Smears, Laughs, and Barnyard Hokum: Early Jazz Trombone and the Problem of Novelty

Economy Hall: The Hidden History of a Free Black Brotherhood

“There must be some truly great quality in the character of that old gaucho,” Domingo F. Sarmiento admitted in his ambiguous reflections on Chacho Peñaloza, a caudillo whose assassination he allegedly ordered.1 Sarmiento’s commentary in 1866 suggested that there was something unique and mysterious about caudillos because of their sentimental appeal and ability to mobilize gauchos through a personalistic rapport;2 in fact, the unique personality traits of these rural leaders was an essential component of the first explanation of Latin American caudillismo proposed by Sarmiento himself in his book, Facundo, and documents and contemporary accounts are replete with references to this phenomenon.3 Yet this question has been largely neglected by modern historiography, which preferred to focus on the broad social, economic, and cultural factors that created the conditions for the emergence and development of this type of political leadership, authority, and mass mobilization in post-independence Latin America.4This article reexamines the nature of the appeal of caudillos by focusing on Facundo Quiroga and Chacho Peñaloza, two Federalist caudillos from the northwestern province of La Rioja.5 The study of these legendary leaders is significant for, at least, two reasons: first, they played an important role in the foundation of Argentine and Latin American literature, thanks to Sarmiento’s writings and obsession with Riojan caudillos; second, these caudillos were among the most powerful leaders in the Argentine interior, with a capacity to shape national politics. Scholars’ reluctance to consider this aspect of caudillista leadership could be attributed to common understandings of the phenomenon of personal magnetism, which social scientists often refer to as charisma. In its most common use, the concept of charisma carries a sense of emotional involvement and manipulation and is often associated with irrationality and political incapacity on the part of the followers. The phenomenon of charisma has, in fact, been considered to be exceptional and idiosyncratic to allow valid generalizations. Given the explanatory limitations of this concept, historians merely acknowledged that the phenomenon was at work, but failed to systematically explore its workings.6Some social scientists have, however, called into question the idea that charisma irradiates from the persona of the leader; in fact, it should be viewed as a reciprocal relationship between leaders and followers. “One has charisma,” James C. Scott says, “to the extent that others confer it upon one; in other words, it is the attribution of charisma that establishes the relationship.”7 By this definition, followers are a fundamental part of the equation mainly because it is their “cultural and social expectations that exercise a controlling or, at least, limiting influence over the would-be charismatic figure.”8 In a creative study of the Saravia brothers—strongmen of the Uruguayan-Brazilian borderlands—John Charles Chasteen has recently proposed a revision of caudillista leadership and charisma along these lines. According to Chasteen, charismatic leadership must be analyzed less in terms of leaders’ personal qualities than as a relationship between leaders and followers: “The charisma of the Saravia brothers was in the eyes of the beholders who projected their own values onto the strongman.”9If charisma is conferred upon and if charisma lies in the eyes of the beholder, then the historian should try to reconstruct the beholder’s gaze. In other words, the charismatic appeal of the caudillos should be explained in terms of the followers’ perceptions and representations of their leaders. My principal argument is that the charisma of the caudillos derived from their followers’ expectations, and it is possible to make sense of its workings by focusing on their representations of the leaders.This approach requires close attention to the culture and expectations of the followers. According to Scott, charisma is culturally specific: “what is charismatic for an audience is not compelling for another; what works in one culture, falls flat in another.”10 This relationship between leadership and cultural specificity has also been recognized by Clifford Geertz, who argued that an analysis of any charismatic figure requires a serious study of the symbols and conceptions of that society.11 In his study of Queen Elizabeth’s charisma, Geertz showed how she “became a moral idea” in the British political imagination: Elizabeth was “Chastity, Wisdom, Peace, Perfect Beauty and Pure Religion, as well as Queen, and being Queen she was these things.”12 Similarly, my research suggests that gauchos perceived caudillos to be more than simple party or military leaders. Representations of caudillos touched upon a vast array of significant cultural and political experiences in post-independence rural Argentina, and were greatly influenced by popular notions of power, authority, justice, patronage, supernatural qualities, masculinity, patriarchy, as well as gauchos’ definitions of Unitarian and Federalist Party identities. As Geertz observed in the case of Queen Elizabeth, in the representations of caudillos, “everything stood for some vast idea and nothing took place unburdened with parable” and, thus, they also became a “moral idea.”13A study of caudillos’ charismatic appeal, therefore, reveals as much about the leaders as about the culture of their followers. The cultural specificity of the phenomenon has also been subtly recognized by Chasteen who, appropriately, categorized caudillos as “culture heroes.”14 And it was the role of gauchos’ values in the construction of the charismatic appeal that explains, in part, the emotional bond between the caudillos and the followers; it was a relationship based on gauchos’ obedience to and admiration and fear of their leaders.15The study of the representations of caudillos also raises questions concerning the role of oral culture in the formation of the nation. In the nineteenth century the Argentine interior was poor and largely illiterate, and representations of caudillos took place mainly in the realm of oral culture.16 Popular jokes and speeches featured caudillos as protagonists, but most of the repertoire about them took the form of songs and stories. This repertoire was part of a politicized oral culture whose pieces circulated throughout the provinces, put the people from different regions in contact with politics and their protagonists and, in the process, helped define a political space of national dimensions in the mind of the audience. In nineteenth-century Argentina, oral culture and the repertoire on the caudillos played a fundamental role in the slow process of nation formation. Thus, the study of the representations of the caudillos and of the workings of oral culture enable us to question Benedict Anderson’s assertion about the exclusive role of “print capitalism” in the process of nation-building in nineteenth-century Latin America.17Another concern of this article is to establish a dialogue with the growing historiography on caudillismo and federalism in nineteenth-century Argentina. Recent works have shifted the focus from the persona of the caudillo to the study of discourses, cultural and institutional practices, and the importance of law in caudillista regimes, and most studies have focused on the government of Juan Manuel de Rosas in the city and province of Buenos Aires.18 Particularly relevant are the insightful studies on the representations of Rosas and federalism in the writings of the intellectuals and the politicians of the regime, as well as in the public festivals organized and sponsored by the state.19 These studies have shown that Rosista discourses had an important republican content that reiterated the rhetoric of the independence and the Rivadavian period by presenting Rosas as the most virtuous republican of all—the “Great Citizen”— and federalism as the realization of the good republic. In this respect, my study of the oral representations of caudillista leadership and, to some extent, of federalism in La Rioja offers a very different perspective. On the one hand, this article shows how agrarian conditions, ethnic relations, and political traditions specific to the region shaped the representations of caudillos and federalism in La Rioja. On the other hand, unlike studies of the writings of intellectuals or the public festivals that do not shed light on how their messages were actually received by the general public, this study of the oral repertoire in gaucho songs brings the historian much closer to the voice of the illiterate majority.20 My research shows that classic republicanism or the rhetoric of the revolutionary period only had an occasional and very limited influence on the oral representations of the caudillos and federalism in La Rioja. The representations of caudillos were shaped by folkloric archetypes that expressed concepts and ideas about holders of power that preceded independence and that were foreign to republicanism.To study the representations of caudillos, I consulted several collections of popular songs gathered by folklorists in the early twentieth century. In addition, I used the Colección de folklore de la encuesta docente (a folklore collection gathered by teachers), which is exceptionally rich in content and unique in Latin America, and comparable to the Federal Writers’ Project of the Works Project Administration (WPA) in the United States. This collection, which has been ignored by historians, is made up of hundreds of dossiers containing songs, tales, testimonies, proverbs, and superstitions from different parts of the country. The material was collected in 1921 from informants, a majority of whom were at least 70, 80 or 90 years old and lived in rural areas; by virtue of their education and experience, they belonged to the nineteenth century and some of them had been either protagonists or eyewitnesses of the phenomena under study. Thus several collections of folklore, and specially the songs and stories collected in 1921, offer a unique opportunity to study gauchos’ representations and perceptions of caudillos. The use of folklore raises methodological questions that will be also explored in the course of this article.21During the nineteenth century, politics occupied an important place in the oral culture of the provinces of the interior, and many of the songs remained in the collective memory of the provinces in the early twentieth century. Over 250 songs, among thousands of pieces collected by teachers in 1921, had a strictly political content; some of them focused on the political lives of caudillos. In the case of the caudillos from La Rioja, 8 songs were devoted to Facundo and 21 to Chacho.22 The geographic distribution of the songs collected suggests the extent of their circulation. Songs that had as their protagonist the Riojano caudillos, for example, appeared not only in the province of La Rioja, but also in Córdoba, San Luis, San Juan, Catamarca, Tucumán, Salta, and Jujuy. The survey of 1921 showed that collective memory also preserved a good number of stories featuring the caudillos as protagonists: 22 stories about Facundo and 13 about Chacho were collected in the provinces of La Rioja, Catamarca, and San Juan.Testimonies from some of the caudillos’ contemporaries illustrates the importance of the songs and stories in Argentine politics. In 1862 an observer noted that after Chacho had successfully resisted the Porteño troops, the gauchos were simply raising the power and prestige of Peñaloza in the provinces of the interior “by singing the glories of the general.”23 And General José María Paz recalled that during his campaigns in the province of Córdoba in the late 1820s, besides confronting Facundo on the battlefield, heThe beliefs that circulated in the form of stories and songs, and the resulting perceptions that they generated among the rural population of Córdoba, were key elements of the gauchos’ loyalty to the Riojano caudillo.Oral culture, as Paz recognized, was a political domain, a space where the struggle between Unitarians and Federalists was waged. Humor was also used as a weapon in this conflict and Unitarian and Federalist leaders became protagonists (and targets!) of jokes. During the 1840s a Unitarian from Santiago del Estero named one of his horses “Juan Manuel” (referring to Rosas—it was another way of placing the Federalist caudillo in the camp of the barbarians / enemies of civilization).25 In 1862 when Catamarca was occupied by the Unitarian troops from Buenos Aires, a poor black defiantly called a dog passing by “Bartolo” (referring to Bartolome Mitre, the Porteño leader of the Unitarian Party), an insolence that cost him 500 lashes.26 And after the death of Chacho in 1863, a Unitarian couplet used the sky blue and red colors that identified the Unitarians and Federalists, respectively, to ridicule him: “Peñaloza died / he went straight to heaven, / but when he saw it was sky blue / he went back down to hell.”27Despite its contentious nature, oral culture seems to have been dominated by federalism. A quick review of 205 songs collected in 1921 about the conflict between the two parties indicates that nearly two-thirds of them were Federal ist.28 And if we consider the presence of the leaders of both parties in those songs, the predominance of federalism is even more pronounced: whenever leaders of both parties were portrayed in a positive manner, Federalist caudillos outshined the Unitarians, nearly 80 percent; for example, Federalist caudillos such as Urquiza, Facundo, Rosas, El Chacho and Felipe Varela were more often evoked than Unitarian leaders such as the Taboadas, General Lavalle, General José María Paz, General La Madrid, Bartolome Mitre, and Domingo F. Sarmiento.29 Although these comparisons do not proportionally reflect the support for both parties, we can certainly consider them as a symptom of the predominance of federalism in the oral culture and the pervasiveness of this partisan identity among the illiterate, the main users of oral culture. This predominance is also suggested by the positive identification of some Federalist caudillos with the popular art of composing songs. In two versions of a story that involved Rosas and Felipe Varela, prisoners of the caudillos composed two songs, which eventually became famous; and in recognition of the prisoners’ ingenuity and creativity, the Federalist leaders rewarded them with their freedom.30The more comfortable classes in the small urban centers of the interior also consumed, modified, and added elements to this repertoire. The private diary of Ramón Gil Navarro Ocampo, a Unitarian and member of the Catamarca elite, allows a rare opportunity to observe the way in which the repertoire functioned in the political arena and how it was consumed and reproduced, generating appropriations and exchanges between the repertoire of one social sector and another.Sent into political exile, Navarro Ocampo and his family were en route to Chile from Catamarca. Juan Lavaysse, an exiled Unitarian from Santiago del Estero, accompanied them. Crossing the countryside of the Province of San Juan one night in March of 1846, they “sang together the Salchichín, the Trágala, and other songs against the tyrant [ Juan Manuel de Rosas]. There were many guasos around there who were terrified when they heard us.”31 Neither the lyrics of the Salchichín nor the Trágala were recorded in the diary. The 1921 collection, however, uncovered one version of the Salchichín and it appeared, precisely, in the Province of Catamarca, and as the young Unitarian noted in his diary, the song’s clearly anti-Federalist message denounced Rosas and Juan Felipe Ibarra, the caudillo from Santiago de Estero.32 Thus, this song that the Unitarian elite from Catamarca sang in the 1840s was still extant in the collective memory of the province in 1921. The lyrics of the Trágala are also absent from the diary. Yet, the 1921 collection gathered six versions of it, but none of them were “against the Tyrant.” On the contrary, they were unequivocally Federalist and Rosista,33 which suggests that both the Unitarian elite and the Federalist supporters from the lower classes used the same song, but with a different message. And here, the evidence leads us to believe that it was the Unitarians who defiantly appropriated elements of a popular Federalist song and changed its meaning. These songs were only the beginning of a night heavily-laden with politics. After the singing, Juan Lavaysse called together the guasos and issued the following “proclamation”:This speech to the peons and gauchos in the province of San Juan might have appeared incoherent, or at least, obscure. It is difficult to understand the intention of the Unitarian, who invoked Richard the Lion-Hearted, and it is impossible to know the impact of his remarks on the gauchos. However, other parts of his proclamation are not so difficult to decipher. Part of his speech was a convocation of contradictory figures who formed part of the religious and political cultures of the audience and whose common denominator was to be (or better, to have been) in positions of power. Among those who were on the march against Rosas was the Pharaoh, the biblical archetype of tyrannical power. On the other hand, borrowing from the rhetoric used during the wars of independence, Lavaysse invoked Moctezuma. In sermons and proclamations priests and lay patriots had as one of most and whose at the of had years of the Unitarian from Santiago the Porteño caudillo with the and that family the Rosas the of good of the of religious culture as the for his message was not This aspect of popular culture was one of the most to be by any in the loyalty of the gauchos. the Unitarians had been from that because of their lay and The gauchos that the Unitarians an to but Lavaysse to that in his proclamation it was Rosas who was associated with the these by the between politics and was a realm occupied by federalism and speech not the repertoire of this politicized in the countryside of San There was more to the of the to Juan the who stories about the lives of [ Juan The the of two Federalist Facundo who had been years and Juan Felipe Ibarra, who after years in power was still in of the province of Santiago del how the Unitarians, whose had under Quiroga and Ibarra, the stories of the from Navarro diary that Facundo as most tyrant of those how Quiroga and were that This might also the Unitarians to the of the two caudillos, of the of a Unitarian intention have been to an of the caudillos that from that among the however, on this as the Unitarians a difficult a / a / Quiroga I my / for Ibarra, my least the gauchos associated Facundo with the Santiago Thus, the stories about caudillos was another oral in which both elite and gaucho political to how oral culture functioned in the political the from Navarro diary suggested other of this type of political the took place in March 1846, when the of foreign in the province of Buenos as the institutional among the the provinces upon the formation of a national and the Argentine still this took place in the countryside of the province of San Juan, the Unitarian and the illiterate gauchos invoked the caudillos who the provinces of Santiago de Estero and Buenos Aires, as well as the caudillo who had La Rioja for perceived these caudillos their common use of songs, and proclamations a political that was part of the struggle between Unitarians and The gathered with Navarro Ocampo in San Juan that those whose and lives the recognized that the struggle Buenos Aires, Santiago de Estero, San Juan, Catamarca, La Rioja. The of by Unitarians and Federalists, had a common political space in which the struggle took a common political space that was one of the the protagonists the process of nation formation. And it is possible to this process as early as A Unitarian song composed in that denounced Facundo Quiroga as an to the of the Riojan Unitarians and the to / / to on the / of Riojan Unitarians became of Thus, the political conflict and in one of the parties was a sense of between people of these two idea that the conflict between and federalism those provinces was a of other as oral culture played a role in the formation and of that political The use of oral culture recognized that most people were illiterate and was by two first, and singing was an essential part of that and second, in those provinces the majority of the population the same political that a recognition of the national political space not from the of a social sector but from the conflict that both gauchos and this was through In other words, the of a national political space was being shaped by and political This the process of nation formation of the exclusive of and of nineteenth-century culture such as and and it also in the realm of popular culture and among the songs from Songs were composed about political but the main in the and were by folkloric In stories from folklore and caudillos for but it is difficult to the with political Although the presence of caudillos in these is their political are and stories formed a and circulated for their of and Thus, in 1921, when the his version of the assassination of he by a for the death of more the song explanation of the assassination of the and stories often archetypes and from the oral culture of the Argentine interior and from other oral cultures as These elements were from a repertoire and were to for and explanation that political had The political of a caudillo however, not to the archetypes and of the oral culture. such of oral culture and politics to the political of a his in and elements of his personality had to least to some the and archetypes of the oral culture and the of that A between the caudillos’ political and and the values in the culture made some of them whose lives and into the of oral use of and and the of their by Facundo and two Federalist caudillos, was a reciprocal on the one hand, it the and moral content of the repertoire a political on the other hand, this of put the of the caudillos in contact with and values this and their Thus, the process not only politicized the expressed in the oral culture but also shaped the figure of the caudillos, them with the and their helped to In this process the caudillos and their party became moral the songs and stories collected in 1921, through which we reconstruct the of the caudillos in the oral culture of the nineteenth century, during the of the caudillos, or at least, in a significant period after their they have been a from a much or of in the case of the The use of folklore should with the use of other of songs and stories are with and by private testimonies, and that allow us to the and archetypes associated with the caudillos and to establish a dialogue between and for example, Navarro private diary, in 1846, is to some of the songs collected in 1921 and to how they were used in the political between the songs and the stories also enable us to the repertoire. The more political and by them more in In addition, some songs in and archetypes that with the and archetypes of the stories. the specific political in the songs as by which to the and archetypes that the songs and stories as of the and the way they the also that the songs and the stories belonged to the nineteenth century during the of the caudillos. who an about of was years must have been in and had the and education of a of the nineteenth a story that involved Facundo heard my who was in of another Similarly, Manuel who was years old in 1921, explained that he heard about the 1862 and of from his the and because at that I was years And Felipe Paz, from in of La Rioja, who was 90 years old in 1921, his story about the assassination of Chacho by was a of General what was the relationship between oral culture and the it be that some of the pieces collected in 1921 were actually of songs and stories that circulated in or popular The research on these in nineteenth-century us from any and the evidence from my own research to two different On the one hand, the and the of the death of Facundo circulated in and throughout the provinces during the and generating oral some of which were collected in 1921. On the other hand, the songs and stories about the death of Chacho how difficult it was for the to and to in the oral culture. The death of Chacho in 1863, and it became the of oral and after the it became a popular in the popular of and his the oral versions of 1921 are with the versions of popular literature, it is that they have different and the oral versions of 1921 the and on the death of Chacho that circulated through

Songs and Intellectuals:

Contributors’ Notes

Reconstructing the City, Constructing the State: Government in Valparaíso after the Earthquake of 1906

Paul Watt, Derek B. Scott, and Patrick Spedding, eds. Cheap Print and Popular Song in the Nineteenth Century: A Cultural History of the Songster . Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2017. 250 pages. Songsters, “pocket-sized anthologies of popular songs,” present a vibrant cultural form

IN MARCH 1875, A CHICAGO TRIBUNE CORRESPONDENT reported that a miners’ strike in Brazil, Indiana, continued with conditions worsening and the “breach between labor and capital widen[ing].” The year-long labor dispute found the striking miners “dogged and sullen” and was taking a dreadful toll on the men and their families. Many of the town's merchants initially supported the strike, but they increasingly feared violence would ensue as the striking miners became more vigilant and defiant. One merchant stated that he had witnessed other strikes, but none of them had “men so determined not to yield,” and he believed it would be necessary to bring in the military to prevent an outbreak of violence. The Tribune correspondent predicted that a “revolution in labor” was imminent because the desperate mine operators were willing to hire Black workers to take the place of the striking miners. The mine operators were “confident that, if negro labor [was] adopted unanimously, it [would] completely and effectively crush strikes, which [had] become so frequent and arrogant of late as to make any dependence on white labor impracticable.” African American workers, according to the correspondent, were more dependable than white laborers, and they would not become “turbulent at trifles, and for many other reasons that are apparent.” As a result, some midwestern mine operators had already arranged to fill their mines with Black workers, and “others will follow suit.”1The newspaper correspondent's prediction about a “revolution in labor” was accurate—during the height of labor unrest in the late 1870s, Northern industrialists sought measures to undercut the burgeoning labor movement by importing African American workers from the South into their predominantly European American worksites. Industrialists were encouraged by two overarching factors: first, Black workers from the South traditionally earned lower wages than their Northern counterparts and would therefore cost less; and more importantly, due to racist exclusionary measures, as well as the relatively small African American population in the North, semi-skilled and skilled worksites were dominated by European American workers. Industrialists correctly assumed that the racism of their workers would cause an exceedingly vitriolic reaction to the idea of Black workers replacing them. In addition to the typical labor conflict issues, racialized violence would invariably ensue. Industrialists then found justification to utilize draconian measures on the strikers—enforced by local militia or police—to ensure that the replacement workers would be allowed to work in relative safety, and to ensure that industrialists continued to make profits.2This racial dynamic became increasingly prevalent throughout the Midwest as rapid industrialization and massive population growth created whole new categories of workers. European American workers braced themselves for the possibility of a chaotic economic transformation by frantically jockeying for occupational viability within the racial hierarchy. In the environment of an increasingly racialized labor movement, Black and other non-white workers, with few exceptions, were forced to the bottom of the economic ladder.Among midwestern states, Illinois was particularly distinct due, in part, to the massive growth of Chicago as a central industrial hub for the region. In comparison to adjacent midwestern states, Illinois was also unique because of its relatively small African American population. By 1890, the African American population in Illinois was only 57,028 (1.5 percent of the state population); in 1900, 85,078 (1.8 percent of the state population). The dearth of a substantial Black population, coupled with a significant rise in anti-Black sentiment throughout the state, helped to create the perception that African American workers were unable to perform technologically advanced labor. Thus, Black Illinoisans of the late nineteenth century were often forced out or excluded from more desirable occupations and, subsequently, forced to the periphery of the labor movement.This article explores the labor activism of Black Illinoisans during the tumultuous late nineteenth century in the context of this relatively new phenomenon—that is, the racialization of labor. Of course, historians generally acknowledge this period as the Second Industrial Revolution in the United States. Yet for African Americans, the period also signified a time in which their racial “character” was under severe scrutiny—not only in labor, but also in virtually every aspect of Black American life. Notions of white racial superiority invariably circumscribed Black people as inferior outsiders—undeserving of a place within mainstream American life. Thus, to most European Americans, it made perfect sense within the twisted logical framework of white supremacy to categorize labor based upon race.In the context of heightened anti-Black sentiment, Black Illinoisans were faced with a difficult decision: should they remain with the larger labor movement that increasingly viewed them as “inferior” workers? While the European American working class famously fought for labor issues such as unionization, safer working conditions, and the eight-hour workday, Black Illinoisans during the nineteenth century also supported these issues. Yet Black workers were forced into a hybrid labor activism—an activism where they fought for their rights not only as workers but also as workers who were gradually excluded from higher-skilled occupations based upon their race. In addition to the racialized occupational environment, Black workers were also forced into a battle for their civil rights during the late nineteenth century as they fought against the inimical rise in white supremacy throughout the United States.The concept of racializing labor was not entirely novel to Northern industries. As historian Jacqueline Jones explained, white Northerners had always expressed their apprehension over emancipating Black people from slavery in moralistic terms. As early as the eighteenth century, they claimed that free Black laborers had shown a lack of restraint in public—displaying “racial” behavior that European American city dwellers found galling. Various groups of African American workers came under attack by the early nineteenth century for advertising for services in a supposedly unseemly fashion. For European American workers, their goal was to maintain their advantageous position in the workplace, and any other socio-political aspect in which there was the perception of losing ground within the racial hierarchy. Thus, European American workers developed new forms of self-definition that would establish a sharper distinction between “white” and “Black” labor.3One of the earliest and staunchest proponents for disrupting the burgeoning labor movement through racialization was co-owner of the Chicago, Wilmington, and Vermillion Coal Company (CW&V) Alanson Sweet. He quickly developed a reputation for slashing wages and firing workers when he forced workers at the Michigan Central Railroad Company to take a pay cut during a dispute in 1862. Workers that protested were fired and replaced with African American workers from the South.4 Sweet believed that the reaction of his predominantly white workforce would be intensified with the importation of an all-Black strikebreaking unit that would likely lead to violence. When violence inevitably ensued, Sweet and his co-owners were then able to utilize state-sponsored protection to ensure the protection of both his imported workers and his property.5As a co-owner of the CW&V in Braidwood, Illinois, during an economic depression, once again, Sweet reduced workers’ wages. Predictably, the unionized miners refused any pay cuts and went on strike. After some convincing, the CW&V co-owners acquiesced to Sweet's ideas on importing African American men to disrupt the conflict. “With the mines filled with colored men,” he assured his fellow owners and stockholders, “it is believed that the Company will not be burdened with the expense of another strike for many years.”6 The CW&V co-owners may have been willing to agree to Sweet's concept due to their past failures. In an 1874 labor dispute with their workers, both recently arriving European immigrants and white workers were recruited as strikebreakers. Instead of being a disruptive force, the replacement miners met with the striking Braidwood miners, became informed of the ongoing labor dispute, and were subsequently convinced to leave. Significantly, the workers left relatively peaceably within days of their arrival.7The nation was in the throes of a massive railroad strike starting in July 1877. Wage cuts, and generally poor conditions and treatment touched off a nationwide strike that shut down most of the nation's railroads. The Chicago Times observed that the arrival of African American workers, combined with the news of the national railroad strike created an “anxious mood” among the Braidwood miners, and “it would take but very little to cause an outbreak in this place.” When the African American workers arrived in Braidwood, there were no friendly meetings. Instead, the striking Braidwood miners gave them an ultimatum: leave town “peaceably or forcibly.” Fearing trouble, some of the miners left town.8 However, when Sweet and the CW&V ownership alerted Illinois governor Shelby Cullom of the intimidation tactics, the state militia was brought in to restore the Black miners to their jobs. The next day, 1,250 Illinois state militia were called into Braidwood to quell the conflict, and if the strikers resisted, “the troops [would] make short work of them.” The CW&V owners understood that an escalation in violence could possibly lead to such measures—and these measures would ensure that the African American workers would be protected and allowed to work in the mines.9Convinced that order could be maintained, and the African American miners would be allowed to remain in the mine shafts, the state militia left Braidwood several weeks later. Although relative peace did prevail after the departure of the state militia, the strike continued another four months. The Braidwood strike of 1877 was the longest strike in United States’ history (to that date) and took an enormous toll on the lives of the strikers and their families. With winter approaching in November 1877, the weary miners finally gave in and ended the strike. The owner's desire to destroy the miners’ union was successful, and the company refused to hire the union leaders as well. Feeling victimized by the CW&V owners, many miners complained bitterly about working alongside the African American strikebreakers who they believed had done “all they possibly could to assist capital to crush labor.”10 For the CW&V owners, the reaction of the Braidwood miners to the importation of African Americans into the mines was the crucial element in their victory. If white and immigrant miners did not react violently, the owners would not have brought in the state militia to see that their mines and their replacement workers were protected.Race relations remained strained in the Braidwood mines during the immediate years after the strike. Nevertheless, African American miners remained in Braidwood and continued to work in the mines. At least half of the seven hundred miners in Braidwood were African American; by 1880, there were 703 Black men and their families living in the surrounding area (compared to 242 in 1870). Institutions such as the Colored Odd Fellows lodge and the First Baptist Church were established in 1878 to support the town's African American community. Reverend T. C. Fleming, who was one of the strikebreakers during the 1877 strike, was the pastor of the church.11 Despite establishing themselves as viable workers in the mines, and decent citizens in Braidwood, the small African American population continued to experience difficulties in town and the workplace.While the African American miners at Braidwood established a reputation for being viable workers and willing union men, their white counterparts insisted on following national racist trends in the workplace. Moses Gordon, an African American miner among those imported from Virginia, observed: “[African Americans] could no more get work here until the year 1877 than they could fly. . . . [I]t was the miners themselves who would come out on strike before they would allow the negro to earn his daily bread.” White workers increasingly drew the color line in the workplace and the major labor unions in the late nineteenth century. Significantly, Gordon also noted that CW&V owners fired African American workers that joined unions. Thus, the racialization of labor worked as a two-pronged attack against Black workers during the industrial era: As discriminatory policies against non-white citizens in the United States became the norm, and therefore accepted by the dominant racial group, employers increasingly utilized African Americans as strikebreakers in order to disrupt unionization. African American workers were either shunned from major labor unions by white union members who refused to allow them to join, or, as in the case in Braidwood, African American workers were threatened with termination. On the other hand, white workers—embracing the full social Darwinism of the late nineteenth century—and thus, completely accepting their collective place at the top of the racial hierarchy in American society—readily rejected African American workers from the most desirable occupations. As white workers wielded more bargaining power in the last decade of the nineteenth century, they insisted on the racialization of both the workplace and their labor unions. Gordon remarked on how this racist process in Braidwood would affect the working class: “Every nationality on the face of the globe can come here and go to work wherever there is work to be had, except for the colored man, and in nine cases out of ten the miners are to blame for it. A house divided against itself cannot stand. If the laboring class fights capital for their rights, they have enough to do without fighting against six millions [sic] of people that have got to earn their bread by the sweat of their brow.”12Strikebreaking served as an occupational and economic weapon against the racialization of labor for men like Moses Gordon. As labor historian Eric Arnesen explained, strikebreaking was a viable form of working-class activism for African Americans as they sought to strengthen their economic position during the labor upheaval of post-Reconstruction America. The most important coal mining towns in Illinois followed the practice of racial exclusion. Strikebreaking not only allowed African American workers to gain entry into desirable industrial positions, but it also represented chances for low paid Southern African Americans to earn higher wages. Their decisions to become strikebreakers were often informed choices, rationalized by a complex and changing worldview that balanced their experiences as industrial workers, farmers, and African Americans. Indeed, these Black men were neither willing tools nor ignorant serfs—rather, they were poor and ambitious men who were often recruited by coal company agents, sometimes under false pretenses. During the nineteenth century, African Americans were never the only workers used as strikebreakers in Illinois or any other Northern state. Moreover, they were never the most used strikebreakers during the height of labor turbulence of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. However, African Americans were usually the most visible strikebreakers because of American racism, and therefore, they were almost always the easiest targets for white working-class rage during the tumultuous labor disputes of this era.13As the Chicago Tribune correspondent predicted, other industrialists throughout the region adopted racialization as a weapon to squelch unionization among the working class. For example, in 1880, approximately one hundred African Americans were hired to replace striking coal miners in Rapids City, near Rock Island, Illinois. Tragedy struck immediately—one of the African American strikebreakers was shot and killed by a striking miner. That same year in Springfield, Illinois, mine owners resisted demands made by union officials and proceeded to import African American miners from Richmond, Virginia. The predominantly European American workforce was ordered to remove their tools from the mines and evacuate company houses. If any violence ensued, the mine operators, their property, and the African American workers, were all protected by local police officials. These drastic actions led to the demise of the union.14 In the summer of 1886, a strike for higher wages occurred in Vermillion County at Grape Creek. In this case, there was a small African American presence in the mines—yet they refused to strike with their European American coworkers. The African American miners belonged to the biracial Knights of Labor (KOL) union and refused to participate because it was “a white man's fight.” The Grape Creek operators brought in African American men from Tennessee and Kentucky under police protection. The conflict dragged out and defeated the strikers, as the mine operators brought in five to fifteen new African American workers each day.15 This pattern of racialization continued throughout Illinois during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. According to data compiled by economic historian Warren Whatley, Illinois industrialists utilized Black strikebreakers more than any state during this period. However, while Black strikebreaking increased substantially during this period—especially in high-profile conflicts—they remained a relatively small percentage of the nation's strikebreaking force.16While Northern industrialists continued to recruit Black workers from the South during the late nineteenth century, they virtually ignored Northern Black workers. This omission was particularly glaring in Illinois and other midwestern states due to the dearth of African Americans living in the region. Approximately 90 percent of the African American population remained in the South, and it was simply easier to find and recruit Black labor in the South. Another more compelling reason had to do with the collective attitudes of African Americans living in the North. While Southern Black workers were cajoled relatively easily due to precarious economic condition or general lack of knowledge of a particular labor conflict in the North, Northern African Americans simply had more exposure to Northern labor strife. Although the Black population of Illinois was quite small, they gained a reputation as ferocious labor agitators during the late nineteenth century. Like their European American working-class counterparts, they also battled for workers’ rights. To be sure, African American workers in Illinois were occasionally used as strikebreakers during the late nineteenth century—there would be a collective shift in their attitude toward the labor movement by the turn of the twentieth century as white working-class racism became more pronounced. Yet prior to the full implementation of white supremacist ideas about allegedly inferior and superior workers based upon race, Black Illinoisans were not only a part of the labor movement, in some cases they were at the vanguard of the movement.During the summer of 1877, while the Braidwood mine operators were importing African American workers into their labor fracas, more than 150 Black longshoremen from Illinois disputed recent wage cuts against the Mississippi Valley Transportation Company (MVTC). Like their Braidwood counterparts, they too were inspired by the “Great Railroad Strike” and organized their own all-Black union. In solidarity with the national movement, the workers arranged a general strike against all Illinois, employers due to the recent wage When the owners were of the strike, they hired strikebreakers. The next the striking longshoremen on the and their and that they leave the When they refused to the longshoremen them by a of in their The longshoremen then after the to ensure that none of the strikebreakers would only a few but it created quite a throughout The observed that the longshoremen may well have been within their rights to strike for higher but they no to prevent from working who willing . . . to work for the The noted that by the strikebreakers off the the Black longshoremen were a for which they be a significant in how the African American workers were in When African American workers for their rights, they were often as or workers. In Black labor activism was often viewed as chaotic and While strikebreaking was generally in white working-class when Black workers fought to their economic the they should be a that [would] last them for all time to the Braidwood which and supported striking miners during their African American workers were viewed with throughout and as workers throughout Illinois sought the same measures in unionization as other workers prior to the full of racialization in labor. As early as 1877, the Knights of Labor (KOL) established as many as seven in Illinois that African American men and into their For many Black workers, the was more than a labor the of leaders and as a than any other union in their the were able to the for African American After the national railroad strike in 1877, labor leaders recruited Black workers to the to racist to workers. goal of the labor leaders was also to the of Black workers during an 1878 African Americans the supported the and the city and with the white Chicago continued to into one of the nation's industrial the of the city was for African Americans. The battle for skilled labor in a environment, was often a losing for African American for from the South. African American men often to racist racist white and workers with the of racist to Black men out of viable As a result, Black workers in Chicago were left with occupational and often found themselves to with national of the racialization of labor was in Chicago by the last of the nineteenth century. By 1890, African Americans were as the to be laborers, workers, or to the During that decade they represented only percent of the population percent of all in the occupational for Black of or no higher than railroad or were also tools for the of such as or who were who or the of and dwellers more and the to their To ideas of racial and economic the their to an One noted that African American men of slavery . . . and became a of to the of the African American men, as a Chicago were the they are by and to were not always to ideas of racial if it in wages. A could a sense of and the of the of the South, which could lead to a was a relatively novel idea in the nineteenth Yet any that these men would allow these to into their in labor issues of the would be an Black in were the of hybrid labor activism of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Black over pay In 1875, they out of throughout the during and in some of At the out because their new to He informed the all-Black that they would be to at the an before their and they would no be allowed to left over by practice that allowed workers to their out in during the and workers of all and were toward labor unionization in the Yet European American workers to follow nationwide discriminatory in labor unions by Black workers from union Black often with their own of labor activism that all-Black unions or biracial unions. For example, after the of the five Black from the in Chicago, were to their of the that were to citizens of every and and were informed that it was against the to of their in the The the men a in the where the and their while on The by the left for another where they were and served without in Chicago were to find a labor union that would their in fighting for their labor and civil rights. The them with the of unionization that they In 1886, created the Colored local and more than four hundred Black and during a The Chicago Times the the Knights had on the Black the union the colored and gave the with This represented the entry of African Americans into organized labor in Chicago and was followed within two years by a Black the which organized after from the of the Black in Chicago little time in their reputation as labor In two hundred African American joined nine hundred white in of the of and in wages. The biracial an of substantial for The owners to a through the workers by importing African American replacement workers to replace the white The between the workers was and the Black were enough to the strikebreakers to A year during another Black labor conditions, and they also the to become more about their rights and the labor was not one African American predicted, by would for their working-class men and in Illinois for more biracial union during the late nineteenth century. an African American of the that more Black workers to the union to themselves as a within the labor than a within the the for laboring men and was an of wages. have been

As a result of its unique colonial history, Louisiana was characterized by a three-tiered society in which the Creoles formed a middle-class that distinguished itself by its attachment to the French culture and language, and to the Catholic Church. Using creolization as a model to describe the process of cultural interchange leading to the creation of new cultural products, this thesis documents the contribution of the Creoles to the development of early jazz. Already in the nineteenth century, Creole musicians played and/or sang classical, military and dance music as well as popular songs and cantiques that incorporated African, European and Caribbean elements. When jazz emerged (1890-1917), they continued to play a significant role as teachers, bandleaders, instrumentalists, singers, and composers. Their most original contribution were the Creole songs, regularly performed during the formative years of jazz but recorded only during the early jazz revival of the 1940s and 1950s.

INTRODUCTION One of the reasons for writing this book is a belief that early twentieth-century recordings can shed new light on the performing styles of the nineteenth century. The most obvious link is that many of the musicians who performed on early recordings were brought up in the nineteenth century, and their playing must include remnants of nineteenth-century style. The fact, for example, that Ysaye studied under Vieuxtemps and Wieniawski, and that Joachim played under Mendelssohn and was associated with Brahms, gives particular importance to their recordings. But the recordings of the early twentieth century have a more general relevance to nineteenth-century practice. Stated at its simplest, it is that none of the aspects of early twentieth-century style described in this book can have arisen overnight. In the use of vibrato and portamento, in flexibility of tempo, and in detailed rhythmic style, the performers of the early twentieth century can be heard moving towards what we now think of as modern style, and away from earlier practice – that is, the practice of the nineteenth century. This is no more than a statement of the obvious. In any period, performance is in a state of transition from the past to the future, and the early twentieth century is no exception. The difficult question, and the question of most interest to students of historical performance practice, is what aspects of early twentieth-century performance can be identified as surviving from the nineteenth century.

Sámi Literature in Norwegian Language Arts Textbooks

Contributors’ Notes

Indian Blues The Indigenization ofAmerican Popular Music Jo/m W. Troutman Native artists todayperform not onlyatpowwows butalso inrockand hip-hopclubs. Infact,American Indians have performed European andAfrican-derived musicfor centuries. Thefollowing essay revealsonefacet of thishistory, whenNative musicians turnedthe federalgovernment's"civilization" campaignon itshead, indigenizingthe music meant todetribalizethem. above The Navajo rock band Blackfire In 1955 anthropologist James Howard cast a dim light over the expressive culture of American Indians, remarking that powwows reflecta "process by which socio-cultural entities . . .are losing their tribaldistinctiveness and in its place are developing a nontribal Indian' culture."1 He believed thatAmerican Indian musical tradi tions were fast becoming generic, "pan-tribal" per formances that reflected a decreasing vitality and diversity of songs and dances. Any powwow sing er or dancer would immediately rejecthis analysis on the simple basis thattriballyspecific?and clan or family-specific?songs have vastly multiplied over thepast century, just as intertribalpowwow culture has proliferated to an extraordinary and quite heterogeneous degree. Yet equally profound in growth to powwow culture are theways in which American Indians have also manipulated 42 i World Literature Today Iand refiguredother formsofmusic, in theprocess developing new means within expressive culture toperform their identities as indigenous peoples. Just as the continued expanse of inter tribalpowwow culture has facilitated the sharing and development of new varieties of songs and dances, Native singers, musicians, and dancers of all varieties continue to access every available musical arena, including cyberspace. The Native American Music Awards, or "Nammys," are tell ing: they comprise over thirtygenres of music and provide awards ranging from best powwow and Native American Church recordings to best blues and hip-hop recordings. Indeed, many Native musicians have recognized popular music genres as opportunities to expand their tribal, oral traditions. For example, the 2008 Nammy Record of theYear award went to Blackfire's (Silence) Is a Weapon. The two-disc set is a tour de forceby these veteran "Alter-Native" and punk rockers from theDine Nation. They describe themselves on theirMySpace site as a "traditionally influ enced, high-energy, politically driven group com prised of two brothers and theirsister. Born into theheart of a political land dispute area on Black Mesa in the Navajo Nation, thisFamily's powerful music reflects the Hopes, Freedoms, and Barriers of today'sworld." Blackfire in facttours the world and has gained respect in many circles; their2002 album One Nation Under featured the last record ed vocals by punk legend Joey Ramone, and David Fricke, Rolling Stonemagazine's premier music critic,has promoted Blackfire in his col umns. (Silence) Is aWeapon consists of one disc of charging, protest rock-n-roll interlaced with Dine chants; the other disc is solely Dine ceremonial vocal and drum songs. Both discs suggest musi callywhat it means toBlackfire to beDine today, and the album demonstrates their extraordinary ability toweave thousands of years of ideas into one musical text. In effect, these artists have refig ured themeaning ofwhat constitutes their tribal, and indeed "Indian," music altogether. The practice by American Indians of fusing tribally derived music with that of Anglos and African Americans has existed for a very long time. Sacred music in missions and churches probably provided the first and certainly the longest-lasting variety of this blending of tradi tions, and the genres of American secular, popu larmusic have provided another. In the 1960s and 1970s, a number of Native musicians such as Cree singer Buffy Sainte-Marie, Kaw-Creek Saxophonist JimPepper, and Dakota singer Floyd Red Crow Westerman gained international fame for their rock, jazz, country, and folk recordings. These musicians and others gained an even high erprofile in the midst of theNative protestmove ments such as the takeover of Alcatraz Island, which captured the national media's attention at that time. Westerman's album Custer Died for Your Sins, for example, provided an equally scathing soundtrack forVine Deloria Jr/sgroundbreaking Nativepeoples forquite some timehad been blowing the saxophone, sawing the fiddle(or violin), and strumming guitars and mandolins. How theycame to those instruments and to these new styles ofmusic becomes particularly revealing when we considertheways in which thepracticeofmusic had become so divisively, politically charged in Indian Country inthe late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. 1969 "Indian manifesto...

Reviewed by: A Life Adrift: Soeda Azembō, Popular Song, and Modern Mass Culture in Japan Gerald Groemer A Life Adrift: Soeda Azembō, Popular Song, and Modern Mass Culture in Japan. By Michael Lewis. Abingdon, Oxon, UK: Routledge, 2008. 286 pages. Hardcover $85.00. Those familiar with today's stereotyped, mass-produced enka may find it almost impossible to imagine that in the past this genre of popular song valued politics over tears. Indeed, the majority of present-day Japanese, whether they love or detest the hackneyed melodies and maudlin lyrics typical of enka, remain unaware of the drastic transformation the genre has experienced over the last century. Most enka fans, usually middle-aged and elderly members of the working class, associate these songs with visions of lonely, tipsy men stumbling down the street at night, or with snowy scenes at distant harbors where jilted women wait for ferries to take them home. Only a century ago enka would have been far more likely to conjure up images of activism, war heroes, and dynamite. Michael Lewis's translation of the memoirs of Soeda Azenbō (1872–1944), the premier enka lyricist and performer of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, presents a vibrant account of the world of enka during an age in which it was still new and thriving. Engaging, well translated, and replete with countless song texts composed by Azenbō and others, the book ushers the reader into a world of popular culture radically different from the current commercial music industry, steered by giant corporate conglomerates. A helpful introduction and copious notes provide socio-historical context and debunk the fables Azenbō sought to create for himself. This study constitutes a significant contribution to our knowledge of prewar Japanese culture and is likely to change most readers' image of enka and prewar Japanese popular music. [End Page 201] The roots of enka can be traced to chants, supposedly more shouted than sung, created and performed by early Meiji activists (sōshi). This period of enka did not last long, for after the promulgation of the Meiji constitution and the establishment of a national Diet, the Freedom and People's Rights movement that had inflamed the imagination of the sōshi found itself in a rapid decline. Newer enka thus shifted their themes in the direction of romance and urban woes. These songs were often performed by self-styled "students" wailing their creations on street corners, usually while peddling hastily produced chapbooks or flyers of lyrics. Soon thereafter, as Japan prepared for war—against the Chinese and in turn the Russians—song texts lurched toward the right and embraced blatantly militaristic themes. Nevertheless, some enka texts continued to feature social critique and satire, not necessarily because the writers and singers were socialists (though some, including Azenbō, were), but because topical songs, whether critical or humorous, were likely to sell. As enka singing changed from bellowing and sloganeering to more melodious styles of delivery, street singers ceased being content to perform unaccompanied. During the late Meiji and early Taishō years street performers could no longer hope to survive by barking dramatically inflected words of dissent. Instead, they took up the violin to accompany themselves more lyrically, or wandered the streets with a comrade who played the shakuhachi. By the 1920s performers were struggling to keep up with the challenges posed by phonograph records, imported genres, and then the radio. The new and rapidly developing music industry valued what was slick and easily consumable (and disposable) over what stirred political passions. Soon enough ensembles with guitars, piano, and other Western musical instruments became the standard backup for a genre evolving in a direction few would have predicted half a century earlier. Azenbō penned and published his memoir A Life Adrift during the wartime years. This fact, as Lewis points out, raises red flags of caution regarding matters of veracity, self-editing, and emphasis. In 1940 writing that did not openly support the government-approved goals of military supremacy and sociocultural unity was unlikely to get by the censor. Azenbō, in part to immunize himself from the open secret of his socialist past, and in part as a way of supporting some abstract concept...

Female Physicians in American Literature: Abortion in 19th-Century Literature and Culture

Political ideology at the end of the nineteenth century in the early twentieth century in Vietnam has contributed significantly to creating a special change in the thinking of the Vietnamese nation. The basic content in the political ideology at the end of the nineteenth century in the early twentieth century in Vietnam was shown in a rich, diverse and profound way in many different aspects, but the most general focused on questioning. It is important to strengthen national self -enhancement, raise the people's intellect, foster the people's strength, spread democratic and civil rights. The proper awareness and evaluation of economic and political and social conditions in Vietnam at the end of the nineteenth century of the early twentieth century with the formation of political ideology in the late nineteenth century XX in Vietnam is essential, making an important contribution to better understanding of the political thought content of thoughts in Vietnamese history. The article is to analyze and clarify economic and political and social conditions in Vietnam at the end of the nineteenth century of the early twentieth century with the formation of political thought in the late nineteenth century in the early twentieth century in Vietnam Male. The article is structured with 3 parts: (1), economic conditions at the end of the nineteenth century in the early twentieth century with the formation of political thought in the late nineteenth century in the early twentieth century in Vietnam; (2), Socio -political conditions at the end of the nineteenth century in the early twentieth century with the formation of political ideology in the late nineteenth century in the early twentieth century in Vietnam; (3) Some comments are drawn.