Musicking in Lumpkin County, Georgia, 1909–1928

Introduction

This study documents the full range of musical activity that took place in a Southern Appalachian community during a period of rapid cultural transformation.¹ While scholars of Appalachian music have typically pursued inquiry into a bounded tradition—social dancing,² for example, or fiddling³—we have instead attempted to document the entire musical life of a rural town (Dahlonega) and the small county (Lumpkin) in which it is situated. This approach allows us to shed light on musical practices that have received limited attention, due either to their peripherality or to the perception that they are “commercial” or “inauthentic.” While our findings are limited to the community under consideration and cannot be generalized to the state or region, this is a strength, not a weakness. Indeed, this study emphasizes the particularity of local musical ecosystems and contributes to the growing argument that “Appalachian music” is a shaky and perhaps insupportable category.

Scholars have long acknowledged that “Appalachian music” is constructed and supported by collective yearning for an imagined and idealized white rural past. Bill C. Malone makes the forthright claim that “there is no such thing as ‘Appalachian music,’” although he readily admits the perennial cultural saliency of the idea.⁴ In a review of Appalachian hip-hop, Jordan Laney likewise addresses the “oppressive notions of authenticity” that restrict perceptions of Appalachian musical identity, noting that “while work is being done in recent Appalachian scholarship . . . , much is left to do.”⁵ Notions such as “purity” and “authenticity” in vernacular and regional musics are routinely dismantled in the academic literature. Richard A. Peterson, for example, draws upon the work of Maurice Halbwachs to argue that “authenticity is not inherent in the object or event that is designated authentic but is a socially agreed-upon construct in which the past is to a degree misremembered,”⁶ while Benjamin Filene similarly eschews value judgments in order to examine the role of public memory in fabricating a U.S. folk tradition.⁷ And yet, mainstream notions of “Appalachian music” have remained mired in stereotype, as regularly acknowledged by scholars who seek to expand the category beyond the traditional spheres of ballad/hymn singing and string band music.⁸ While this lone study will not turn the tide in reframing notions of “Appalachian-ness” and “authenticity,” our methodology decenters received ideas of Appalachian music and embraces the multiplicity and messiness of musical life in a Southern Appalachian community between 1909 and 1928.

It was in this crucial twenty-year period that political and technological developments transformed musical activity and ideology in urban and rural areas alike.⁹ New South advocates embraced both elite and traditional music in their effort to curate and project a regional cultural identity. As historian Gavin James Campbell has demonstrated, the former allowed Georgians to assert cultural parity with the North, while the latter provided a means of uniting wealthy and working-class whites in celebration of a supposedly shared musical inheritance.¹⁰ The musical activities in Atlanta that Campbell addresses—an opera week featuring performers from the New York Metropolitan Opera Company (1910–1986) and the Georgia Old-Time Fiddlers’ Convention (1913–1935)—were both established in the period under investigation.

The 1910s also saw the first robust efforts to document rural music in North Georgia, culminating in the publication of English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians in 1917 by Olive Dame Campbell and Cecil Sharp.¹¹ While Sharp and his research assistant Maud Karpeles did not visit Lumpkin County, they brought national attention to the region and forged lasting ideas about what constituted “Appalachian music.” As has been frequently noted, Sharp and Karpeles tended to dismiss all musical activity outside of their ballad-collecting purview, especially the singing of popular and religious songs.¹² Commercial recording agents would likewise take a selective view of “Appalachian music,” curating it in a way that impacted both artists, who sought to satisfy the desires of agents, and consumers, who were exposed to narrow representations of the region. The 1920s saw the founding and rapid growth of a “hillbilly” record industry, and it was in Atlanta that Ralph Peer found his first success recording and marketing the music of Fiddlin’ John Carson in 1923.¹³ “Hillbilly” music also found its way onto the radio in 1924, with the inauguration of the Chicago-based National Barn Dance.¹⁴ In this way, rural Southern music was simultaneously commercialized and nationalized as a result of rapid technological advancement. Rural Southerners, however, did not always share the urban or Northern views of their regional musical traditions, and it is only by examining local accounts of musicking¹⁵ that we can elucidate insider perspectives. Likewise, the realities of Southern Appalachian musical life did not necessarily adhere to mainstream folkloric or commercial representations. Our study of musicking in Lumpkin County questions romanticized notions of early twentieth-century Appalachian life and culture while revealing the specificity of musical life within a given geographical region.

Lumpkin County, Georgia

Lumpkin County is located in the Southern foothills of the Appalachians, about 65 miles to the northeast of Atlanta. The Georgia state legislature created Lumpkin County in December of 1832. This action was part of the ongoing effort to remove Cherokee from the region and reallocate their lands to white settlers, a project that would culminate in the 1836 Treaty of New Echota and forced removal in 1838. Although the Supreme Court recognized Cherokee sovereignty in the 1832 case Worcester v. Georgia, ruling that the state could not enforce its laws within Cherokee territory, President Andrew Jackson refused to intervene in the confiscation of Cherokee property. Cherokee County was created by legislative act on December 21, 1830, and was divided into ten smaller counties two years later. Governor Wilson Lumpkin won his post in 1832 on the promise of allocating land parcels to eligible residents via a pair of state lotteries.¹⁶ The land in Lumpkin was of particular interest, having become the site of an early gold rush after Benjamin Parks discovered gold in 1828 or 1829. News of his findings brought a reported four thousand miners to the area by 1830.¹⁷ Dahlonega was named the county seat after lottery fraud threw the ownership of the county's mining settlement, Auroria, into question. At the time, there was nobody living at the site of the future city, and it was some years before the city's name (and its spelling) were settled. The two-story brick courthouse, which still stands in the central square, was constructed in 1836.¹⁸ Enough gold was unearthed to merit the inclusion of Dahlonega in the Mint Act of 1835, where a branch was to be opened “for the coinage of gold only.” The Dahlonega Branch Mint finally opened on February 12, 1838.¹⁹ It was closed by the Confederate Congress on January 19, 1861.²⁰

The Mint stood vacant for a decade, but when Dahlonega native William P. Price was elected to the U.S. Congress in 1870, he engineered a bill that would hand over ownership to the recently incorporated North Georgia Agricultural College (NGAC). The school, which officially opened in 1873, was the first in the state to admit and graduate female students.²¹ It also employed female faculty from the start, including instrumental music instructor Fannie Grattan Lewis, a daughter of the first president.²² Price ensured, however, that nonwhite students would be barred from admission, and the institution remained segregated until 1959.²³ NGAC grew quickly, enrolling over two hundred students in its second year. Because NGAC was a land-grant institution, it was required to train male students for military service, and cadets were eligible to commission as officers upon graduation. A formal ROTC program was inaugurated after President Woodrow Wilson signed the National Defense Act of 1916.²⁴ In 1877, a normal school was opened to train teachers, while the School of Mining Engineering capitalized on local expertise to develop a national reputation.²⁵

During the period under consideration, Lumpkin County was grappling with significant population decline. While the presence of NGAC provided some stability to the local economy, many residents left for better employment opportunities in Atlanta. In 1910, Lumpkin County had a population of 5,444—down from 7,488 in 1900 and 6,867 in 1890.²⁶ In fact, census records reveal that Lumpkin was shrinking more rapidly than any other county in Georgia.²⁷ With a population of 1,089 in 1910, the city of Dahlonega was the only substantial settlement; most county residents lived rurally. Lumpkin County continued to shrink over the next two decades, reporting 5,240 residents in 1920 and only 4,927 in 1930, before experiencing a mid-century resurgence. The population of Dahlonega declined to 913 by 1920, but then rose to 1,175 over the next decade.²⁸

William Townsend and The Dahlonega Nugget

The Dahlonega Nugget was founded as a local weekly in March 1890, although it initially failed to thrive. William Benjamin Franklin Townsend (1855–1933), a Dahlonega native who had worked in newspaper publishing for many decades, took a lease on the Nugget in 1897 (Figure 1). Although he had only a primary school education, Townsend became the singular creative force behind the Nugget.²⁹ A typical issue contained national and international stories, advertisements, and comic material on the front and back pages, and local news on the two interior pages. It was in these local columns that Townsend built his reputation for dispensing homespun wisdom, folksy humor, and opinionated commentary. Demand became so great that Townsend had to maintain a waiting list for subscribers, since he printed the papers himself on a hand-cranked press and could not produce more than 1,000 each week.³⁰ Meanwhile, Townsend accessed an international readership when his columns were syndicated across the United States and Canada.³¹

Although not a trained musician, Townsend was a keen music lover. Townsend described himself as follows: “Can sing, whistle, dance, play the phonograph and turn a grind stone all day.”³² He took a lead role in organizing the local fiddlers’ convention and was a dedicated patron of the NGAC band. Townsend wrote frequently about his own music-making activities, which included singing hymns in the office and playing upon the jaw harp and harmonica.³³ His paper chronicled various instances of local musicking, although often colored by personal tastes and moral judgments. Additionally, Townsend was a staunch segregationist and took limited interest in the wellbeing or activities of Lumpkin County's sizeable African American population. His biases will be addressed throughout the following account.

Creating and Consuming Music

We have chosen to categorize the musical activities of Lumpkin County residents according to themes that arose organically out of our engagement with the Nugget. Locals had access to a wide array of participatory and presentational practices that encompassed religious, concert, popular, and vernacular categories.

Recorded Music and Instruments

By 1909, recorded music was readily available in Lumpkin County. Graphophones (the trademark name for a Columbia phonograph) could be purchased from Craig R. Arnold, proprietor of Hotel Hall's Villa. Arnold operated out of his hotel as an official agent for Columbia, selling both machines and records. The novelty of the technology, however, is reflected in the fact that his weekly advertisements contained the misspelling “reckords” until February 19, 1909.³⁴ A Columbia graphophone could be had for between $20 and $200 dollars, with “Bargains in slightly used Machines.”³⁵ By May, Arnold was advertising both graphophones and other phonographs, with cylinder machines selling for $10 to $15, Columbia disc machines for $25 and up, and two-sided discs for sixty-five cents. He also boasted a “Large stock of Cylinder and Disc Records and needles constantly on hand.”³⁶ In 1916, Arnold—now relocated to the Mountain Inn—was advertising “New Hornless Machines” and “Large Horn Machines,” as well as supplies and a repair service.³⁷ Arnold ceased to advertise after this date, but in 1922 he was cited for donating a phonograph to a local blind man, John Lingerfelt.³⁸

While Arnold appears to have had a monopoly on the phonograph market, jeweler G. H. McGuire took the lead in selling musical instruments and accessories. Advertisements that McGuire ran in tandem with Arnold's indicated that “most any kind of a musical instrument you may wish” was available alongside clocks and watches.³⁹ A 1909 blurb on the local news page specified that McGuire could provide “clocks, spectacles, violins, banjos, accordians [sic], etc. Also fiddle, banjo, guitar and mandoline [sic] strings, all priced down low.”⁴⁰ It appears that McGuire also tuned and repaired pianos.⁴¹ Other peddlers of musical instruments only offered cheap goods. W. A. Gayden was known as “the music man who sells so many harps” in 1912, while in 1922 Mrs. T. H. Jones offered harmonicas, mouth harps, and accessories such as banjo and fiddle strings at her “Novelty Store.”⁴²

Pianos and pump organs were widely available, primarily on the resale market. Between 1912 and 1925, the Nugget included periodic listings for pianos, both new and used, that were available for purchase from private citizens.⁴³ Organs could be obtained in a similar manner.⁴⁴ The Clermont firm of Griffin Bros. offered Baldwin player pianos in 1917, and also outfitted Cleveland High School with a piano.⁴⁵ Proprietor C. T. Griffin visited Dahlonega in the same year “with some of his fine organs,” hoping to make sales.⁴⁶ Organs were also available from McGuire, who in 1909 offered “two good second hand organs either for sale, or to exchange for most any thing you may have.”⁴⁷ A similar listing in 1926 indicated that McGuire was still active in the organ trade. In 1928, it was reported that a piano dealer from Athens had visited the area in hopes of making sales, while itinerant piano tuners passed through town in 1914 and 1915.⁴⁸ Keyboard instruments were found not only in homes and schools but in churches. The first Dahlonega church to use a piano was the Methodist Episcopal church in 1909, while Philippi Church boasted a new organ in 1923.⁴⁹ Lumpkin residents also had access to private music education. Mrs. W. M. Barnett advertised for piano students in 1915, charging three dollars for eight lessons over the course of a month.⁵⁰ A decade later, Mrs. Masvelle Fry Dobbs sought music pupils at twenty-five cents a lesson.⁵¹

Radio came to Lumpkin County in 1925, when a working receiver was made available for citizens to observe over a twenty-four-hour period at Dahlonega Service Station. Townsend reported that “all persons were at liberty to go and enjoy it, and realize what a progress age we are living in.”⁵² Three years later, Townsend acquired a radio for the Nugget offices.⁵³ It is likely that Dahlonega's other wealthy citizens also owned receivers by 1928.

Staged Entertainment

During this era, the citizens of Lumpkin County enjoyed various shows produced both locally and by visiting performers. There were no brick-and-mortar theaters or playhouses in Dahlonega between 1909 and 1928, but performances could be found downtown at the courthouse, in churches, and at the college. There were various types of stage productions including variety shows, minstrel shows, and circuses.

One of the most important hubs for entertainment was the courthouse in Dahlonega's town square. In 1924, W. G. Keith and his “band of musicians” sought to attract an audience there by announcing on his posters that five dollars would be awarded “to the prettiest girl who attended, and a small money prize to the ugliest man who showed up. This caused a number of pretty girls to attend as well as some ugly ones and aged women to go to see who won the prizes.” Although the gimmick worked on the first night, Keith's failure to follow through on a second resulted in a riot during which the electric lights were cut off. Keith had to be escorted back to his hotel by two police officers.⁵⁴ Not all staged events at the courthouse were quite this lively. More often they constituted tame community gatherings, such as a 1928 box supper fundraiser for the high school library accompanied by “free music and entertainment.”⁵⁵

Keith's program followed a long line of traveling shows that came through to delight the citizens of Dahlonega, although it is not always clear what type of entertainment was on offer. In June 1928, Townsend reported that “a nice, clean show” had been presented every night of the previous week, although he decried the fact that local residents were willing to spend their last quarter “to see some woman get up on the platform and dance” when they failed to support neighbors in need. Indeed, he expressed deep concern that “every little show is permitted to come in Dahlonega by the city authorities and gather up and carry off a lot of money to the detriment off the town.”⁵⁶

Circuses stopped in the area with some regularity.⁵⁷ One such exhibitor was Aunt Rose Killian, who visited Dahlonega at least three times before 1915 with a troupe of actors who specialized in “singing, dancing, and walking the rope.”⁵⁸ In 1920, patrons of the Clark & Son circus were able “to watch the rope walker and see the street parade and listen to the music” at what was described as “a nice, clean one” that had previously visited the area a decade before.⁵⁹

Lumpkin County residents also had access to motion picture entertainment, which included live music. In 1910, McGuire exhibited films at Anderson's Hall, where patrons were also treated to “good music by fiddlers, banjo and guitar pickers.”⁶⁰ While McGuire's show ran for only two weeks, a permanent picture house opened a few years later. The Bonita Theatre, which in March 1914 advertised a program of films with “special music,” appears not to have been a success.⁶¹ After a report that the theater had paid twenty dollars in “special taxes” two months later, all traces of the establishment disappear from the record.⁶² While it seems that the community could not support a dedicated film theater, a “Moving Picture Show” took place at the NGAC chapel every Saturday night from January to June 1917. Notices in the Nugget indicated that all were welcome to attend.⁶³

A variety of musical and dramatic presentations were available at NGAC. Apart from performances by the regular ensembles, NGAC students and faculty frequently gave “entertainments,” although newspaper notices never indicated the precise nature of these affairs. In December 1912, for example, Desma Pentecost gave an entertainment at the college chapel that was “very interesting as usual. She has given a number of entertainments at this place and has never failed to please a single audience yet.”⁶⁴ While it appears that her talents lay in the realm of drama, we can only guess at her programs. The same is true of an entertainment given later that month by “the young ladies and young gentlemen of the College and town . . . for the benefit of the poor.”⁶⁵ However, a complete program was published for a YMCA-sponsored “tribute to the mothers of our land,” held in the NGAC chapel on May 12, 1912. On this occasion, audience members were treated to a performance of the song “Tell Mother I'll Be There,” a pantomime of “Home, Sweet Home” by nine young ladies, a “special song” by a quartet, a selection from Pentecost, readings from scripture and literature, and a talk by an NGAC professor. Attendees also joined in for two community singing selections.⁶⁶ It is likely that other local entertainments of the period featured similar elements.

College Ensembles

Townsend was an ardent supporter of the NGAC cadet band, which he praised frequently in print (Figure 2). “When you hear the college band,” he opined in a one-line “Local News” entry in 1923, “it drives away the blues.”⁶⁷ He mentioned the band most often in connection with commencement, noting year after year that NGAC used to rely on a hired ensemble of violin, guitar, and piano to provide music for this important occasion.⁶⁸ In Townsend's view, the capacity of the college to supply a musical ensemble constituted of its own students was a mark of great distinction. The band also played commencement ceremonies at high schools throughout the region.⁶⁹

The band director at the beginning of our period was Edward Steiner, described in the Nugget as “a most excellent musician and teacher.”⁷⁰ In early 1912 Steiner collaborated with Pentecost to form the Music and Dramatic Club, with the aim of undertaking a regional tour to promote the university and recruit students.⁷¹ The program was printed in advance of the first performance, to take place in the College Chapel:

1. Military Band, consisting of fifteen members, under the expert leadership of a master musician, Prof. Edward Steiner.

2. Short clever dramatic production, full of humor, one hour, eight characters.

3. Male Quartette.

4. Several individual and dual selections and “stunts”.⁷²

Although Dahlonega did not enjoy the convenience of a rail station, the company ultimately traveled a reported one thousand miles between March 4 and 16, giving entertainments in twelve towns and “being met at every place by a large and attentive audience.”⁷³ This included a crowd of over 500 in neighboring Gainesville.⁷⁴

Steiner was succeeded by M. M. Cole, a retired army musician who increased band participation to a record twenty-two players in the fall of 1912.⁷⁵ The ensemble's first concert, given in the college chapel on November 18, featured “some of the very latest Standard and Popular Overtures and Selection [sic] of today.”⁷⁶ At about the same time, Cole took the band to Union county, where he offered a free concert in a remote schoolhouse. Townsend emphasized the musical significance of NGAC to the region, noting that some of the students in Union had “never heard a band before, and all enjoyed what they heard and saw. . . . One father brought his children ten miles through the rain for them to hear the band.”⁷⁷

Cole departed after two years and was replaced by Ferdinand Angelsberg, who served as band director from January 1914 to 1923, and then again from 1925 to 1943.⁷⁸ By 1914, the student dance orchestra had grown to include violins, flute, clarinets, saxophone, trumpets, trombone, piano, and percussion (Figure 3).⁷⁹ This group was active in the community, providing music for the fiftieth anniversary celebration of the Knights of Pythias held at the Mountain Club House.⁸⁰ Later, the orchestra would furnish music for NGAC dances, suggesting that they cultivated a repertoire of recent tunes in a popular style.⁸¹ The band, meanwhile, played for college basketball games and undertook another tour in April 1915, visiting ten Georgia cities.⁸² The band maintained a strong community presence as well, playing for commencement and other end-of-term exercises at grade schools throughout the region.⁸³ Although most students returned home at the conclusion of classes, band members were encouraged to remain on campus through commencement with the promise of having their five-dollar matriculation fee refunded—a policy first enacted out of necessity by Steiner.⁸⁴

In October 1919 it was announced that Angelsberg had built the band membership to its highest level yet, twenty-four players, turning away a handful of applicants in the process.⁸⁵ Musical activity at NGAC seems generally to have thrived in this period (Figures 4 and 5). The next few years saw the band frequently mentioned in connection with college baseball games, both at home and abroad.⁸⁶ On one occasion, while accompanying the team to Spartanburg, South Carolina, for a series of games against Wofford College, the band was recruited to provide music for a reunion of Civil War veterans. The band concluded its program with a rendition of “Dixie,” after which “the old soldiers yelled to the top of their voices and all present were delighted because the music added more pleasure for those old gray headed veterans who succeeded in passing through the bloody struggle in defense of their country.”⁸⁷ In June the band would welcome a delegation from the state legislature, which came to survey the region with regard to touristic development.⁸⁸

In February 1923, Angelsberg was succeeded by Mils B. Peterson, a retired U.S. Army musician. The next month Peterson took the band to perform at a convict camp, and in May he coordinated participation in a standing-room-only entertainment by the NGAC Dramatic Club.⁸⁹ The band undertook several noteworthy projects in his remaining years, with the advantage of twenty-eight new instruments procured by President Colonel John W. West from the U.S. government to support the military training program.⁹⁰ In January 1926, the band entertained a delegation of farmers and agricultural experts, sent by the state legislature as part of an educational effort, with a concert on the town square.⁹¹ Then, in May, apparently in response to a suggestion from Townsend himself, the band gave a free outdoor concert at Neel's Gap.⁹² Townsend reported that five hundred visitors from Tennessee, North Carolina, Florida, and all over Georgia came to marvel at “the first band ever heard on this mountain high up in the clouds.”⁹³ In November of that year, Angelsberg organized a trip by the dance orchestra and “others numbering about twenty” to broadcast out of the offices of the Atlanta Journal. The hour-long radio program combined vocal and instrumental music with a lecture about the history of the Dahlonega Mint and the founding of NGAC.⁹⁴

In February 1926, it was announced in the Nugget that “Prof. Angelberg [sic] is going to have some ladies in the band later on. . . . Ladies are quick to learn music, and after this plan it won't be long until we will be furnished with some extra ordinary fine music.”⁹⁵ The following semester women were admitted to the regular band, increasing the membership to its highest level yet.⁹⁶ The experiment, however, seems to have been short-lived. In January 1928, Townsend reported, “A couple of years ago a move was made to have young ladies join the college band. But it did not last long. Most of the ladies had rather sing than to blow.”⁹⁷

If the ladies were singing, it was not in the all-male Glee Club.⁹⁸ An entry in the yearbook calendar for January 10, 1923, reads “Glee Club Makes its Debut. A big hit.”⁹⁹ The ensemble undertook regional spring tours in 1924 and 1927 (and probably other years as well).¹⁰⁰ It appears that the Glee Club's performances were humorous in nature. After hearing their final Dahlonega concert before the 1927 tour, Townsend reported that “no one went away without laughing . . . if there is any one wishing to enjoy themselves and forget all their troubles, all they have to do is to attend one of the N.G.A.C. Club's entertainments.”¹⁰¹

Although Townsend's coverage was heavily in favor of the band, he occasionally mentioned other musical activities taking place at the college. In March 1917 he reported that the ladies’ singing class led by Ferdinand Ruge “performed the bridal chorus from a Grand Opera which had been sung in Atlanta two years ago by the Metropolitan Opera Company. We are glad that Prof. Ruge thinks that the highest class of music is not too good for us.”¹⁰² Evidence from the NGAC yearbook suggests that singing was taught throughout the period under consideration, but there are few details. Singing teachers were never listed by name, and it appears that the class was taught by whichever member of the faculty had the necessary expertise.¹⁰³ Townsend documented several vocal performances, including a “Concert of old time songs” in 1923 and a performance by “the teachers of the Summer School, mostly young ladies,” in 1928.¹⁰⁴ Finally, Townsend recorded numerous performances by the NGAC Minstrels, including a 1923 presentation of “the ‘Alabama Minstrels’” to a packed house on campus. Townsend described the presentation, which was subsequently heard in at least one nearby town, as “a nice clean show. Nothing said or done to shock the modesty of either male or female, not even a country editor.”¹⁰⁵

Social Dancing

Townsend displayed some ambivalence toward dancing throughout the period in question. On the one hand, he often made light of strict prohibitions, whether from the church or state, and frequently joked about his own “fancy steps,” reporting to readers in 1928 that, “since it has gotten out that ye editor is such a fine dancer,” he was being inundated with invitations to out-of-state balls.¹⁰⁶ On the other, he was strictly censorious in his attitude toward the modern “hugging” dances, and he seemed to concur with then-President West that “less dancing and more studying” would better serve college students in their preparation for a career.¹⁰⁷ Townsend, who lamented his advancing age, does not appear to have attended any of the dances on which he reported.¹⁰⁸

The disharmony between social dancing and religion is evident throughout the two decades of Nugget documentation. In a typical entry from 1909, we learn that “Bro. Tillam stopped dancing by members of the church while he was here, but some of them are going [at] it again.”¹⁰⁹ As was true elsewhere in the rural South, the Saturday night dance existed in constant tension with the Sunday morning service; although condemned and excoriated by the faithful, the dance could never be eradicated.¹¹⁰ However, this period also saw the increased acceptance of dancing by some white churches. The 1914 announcement that “dancing has been introduced in one of the Atlanta churches to get the young people out” sparked a flurry of reports that urban pastors were no longer banning dancing but encouraging it.¹¹¹ One was reportedly teaching “tango and other modern dances,” while a visiting evangelist “wants dancing in the pulpits” and “urges dance halls for the improvement of public morals.”¹¹² Just as there was disparity between Atlanta and mountain communities, members of town and country parishes within Lumpkin County were held to different standards. As late as 1928, Townsend noted that “one member of a country church in this county was dropped from the roll for dancing. So you see that the country and town religion is different. Or that is, they look at it differently.”¹¹³

While social dancing certainly took place in the 1910s, it was not always reputable. Reports, such as this one from 1912, associated dancing with the consumption of alcohol, violent encounters, and general mayhem:

The next month, “eighteen empty quart bottles found laying around the yard” after a dance in a Gwinnett schoolhouse led the editor to “judge that it was a high old dance.”¹¹⁵

More formal dances were held as well, although seemingly not frequently. Anderson Hall was the site of regular dances between 1909 and 1912, while a 1909 old ladies’ dance at Hotel Hall's Villa was described as “the most comical occurrence in Dahlonega for a long time.”¹¹⁶ In 1916, “the biggest dance of the season occurred in the second story of the old Hall store building.” An admittance fee was charged, although Townsend was not sure whether it was to raise money “for foreign missions or athletics. Doesn't matter though, as about as much good is accomplished by one as the other, religiously speaking.”¹¹⁷

Mountain Inn became the principal dance venue of the 1920s.¹¹⁸ During this decade, social dancing would become not only more common but more institutionalized and respectable. With forty-five rooms, up-to-date amenities, and extensive grounds, the Mountain Inn was Dahlonega's largest and most comfortable hotel. One dance in 1923 attracted over a hundred visitors, many of whom slept in tents or private residences when no hotel beds were available.¹¹⁹ Visitors to a 1924 Mountain Inn dance again had to find lodging elsewhere, filling the Tate House and Wigham Hotel.¹²⁰ At a big Mountain Inn dance in 1927, “more than twenty-five couples were out on the floor at once,” occupying all of the available space.¹²¹ Beginning in 1926, dances were also frequently held at the Porter Springs hotel, located at the mineral spa of that name to the north of Dahlonega. Although the spa and hotel had long been in decline by the 1920s, the dances there seem to have drawn large numbers of participants, especially from Gainesville and Atlanta.¹²²

The decade also saw a great increase in dancing at the college. Writing in April 1925, Townsend noted that “they had another dance at the College Friday night, making two dances there in less than a week. If parents want their sons to learn and keep up dancing we know of no institution where there is more dancing done by the students than those here.”¹²³ Beginning in 1926, regular dances were held in the newly constructed athletic building.¹²⁴ This also became the location for an annual military ball, which was an occasion of exceptional pomp. The proceedings of the 1928 military ball, heralded as “the most brilliant social affair of the season,” opened with a parade of students in dress uniform on the square, after which a series of boxing and wrestling matches pitted NGAC students against representatives of other institutions. Dancers then adjourned to the gymnasium, where “artistic decorations . . . gave it the appearance of fairyland,” while a picture show was provided for those who preferred such entertainment.

Although neither the dancing nor the music were ever described in any detail, occasional hints tell us something about what these events looked and sounded like. Townsend condemned “hugging dances” throughout the 1920s, suggesting that dancers were performing modern ballroom styles.¹²⁵ In describing his own activity, Townsend made frequent references to doing the “cake walk” and the “old Virginia backstep,” while in 1923 he described other dancers as executing steps in response to “some of which old Aunt Martha Washington would have blushed with shame and disgust in her day.”¹²⁶ The same entry in which Townsend conjured a blushing Martha also included the most comprehensive description of the musical accompaniment, which he described as being provided by “usually fiddles, different size horns, [and] a long concern that the musician holds with one hand to his mouth and runs the other up and down the stem of it like something was out of fix and he was sand papering and adjusting,” which seems most likely to have been a trombone.¹²⁷ This instrumentation suggests that dances were most frequently accompanied by something resembling a jazz orchestra rather than a string band. Further evidence for this comes from the NGAC yearbook, which documents dance ensembles employing brass and reeds alongside violin and piano from as early as 1908 (Figure 6).¹²⁸ A reference to “music furnished by an orchestra from Atlanta” for a Sigma Nu dance held at the Mountain Inn in 1925 likewise indicates jazz-oriented instrumentation and music.¹²⁹ However, a string band was also sometimes employed, such as at a 1926 dance where “Will Thompson played the fiddle, Uncle Lum Motes picked the banjo, [and] Paul Boartfield patted both hands and feet and sang.”¹³⁰ Fiddle was mentioned frequently in connection with dances, although this is the only reference to banjo. Other string band instruments, including guitar, mandolin, and bass, were never mentioned.

Townsend made frequent complaints in the 1920s about both churchgoing and dancing becoming expensive, often drawing comparisons between the two. In early 1922, he claimed to have been deterred from attending a dance due to the fact that “it would cost about two hundred dollars, the most of the female dancers having to be imported from Gainesville, their lodging and traveling expenses paid.”¹³¹ The next year he reported that while “it used to be that a dance cost nothing because there were so many fiddlers . . . Now it costs a dollar to get into the hall, whether you dance any or not.”¹³² A year later the entry cost seems to have risen to $1.50.¹³³

Fiddling and Fiddle Contests

On August 28, 1909, the fifth annual Fiddlers Convention of Lumpkin County was convened in a public park.¹³⁴ Although the convention was ultimately declared a success, uncertainty about the event's viability and low turnout among competitors hinted at a possible decline in this type of activity. Indeed, the 1909 convention would turn out to be the last of its era—all efforts in the ensuing decade to organize a similar gathering met with failure. Whether due to declining population or changing musical tastes, fiddling was a vanishing tradition in the North Georgia foothills. Townsend, who expressed a nostalgic fondness for the fiddle, described it as “sweet good old time music” and lamented the disappearance of fiddlers and decline of fiddle conventions.¹³⁵ This contradicts contemporary accounts in the Atlanta Constitution, which suggested that the hills were bristling with fiddlers.¹³⁶ The Nugget instead offers a narrative of decline and threatened extinction, at least in the immediate area. At the same time, Townsend provided glimpses into the activities of fiddlers and revealed how important this music was to his own mountain identity.

Just two months before the 1909 Fiddlers Convention of Lumpkin County, Townsend announced that the event was to be canceled, “for the reason of so many calls having been made on our citizens during the past month for money for various purposes, such as, for the sick and afflicted, home missions, foreign missions, preachers salaries [sic], preachers visits [sic], prizes for school children, banquets, monuments, athletics, and the Lord only knows what else.”¹³⁷ The following week, however, Townsend reported that the convention was back on, after “some of our citizens requested us to have it so they may be able to see our country friends come to town and all have one more happy day.”¹³⁸ The ensuing weeks saw announcements concerning the contest categories, pleas for prize money, citations of upstanding citizens who had made contributions, and reports from those who had written with their plans to attend.¹³⁹ The program, published a week in advance, indicated that first and second prizes would be given for best fiddler ($5/$2.50), best “lady fiddler” ($5/$2.50), and best singing class ($10/$5). A spelling competition was also held, with separate categories for town and country students divided into two age groups (under 11 and 6–18). The proceedings opened, as they had in all previous years, with an address from Col. R. H. Baker of Atlanta (previously cited for donating $5 in prize money)¹⁴⁰ and a rendering of three “good old time tunes that made even the oldest person present think of their childhood days” by former contest winner W. H. Satterfield, and closed with prize distribution by Dr. G. R. Glenn.¹⁴¹ While it was reported that “hundreds of people were here from this and various other counties and states, and everyone enjoyed and behaved themselves,” only the men's fiddle contest proved competitive, attracting ten participants who each played two tunes.¹⁴² Both first and second prize in the ladies’ contest were awarded to the sole participant, Mrs. William Jackson. Likewise, only the Yahoola singing class, led by John Anderson, showed up to compete, singing “many beautiful pieces [that] caught the attention of both the old and young” to win both prizes.¹⁴³

It is clear that fiddlers’ conventions were no longer flourishing. The 1910 convention, scheduled for the first Saturday in August, with a “reunion of the old Dahlonega boys” planned the day before, was canceled two months in advance.¹⁴⁴ Townsend blamed social strife: “Politics seem to be all that can be talked about and too much confusion for people to meet together and enjoy themselves.”¹⁴⁵ His bitterness, which is evident on many occasions, can be explained by the fact that Townsend was apparently the driving force behind the fiddlers’ conventions. Not only did he use the Nugget to organize and advertise, posting calls for subscriptions in support of the prize money fund and reporting on individual fiddlers who planned to attend, but he himself put up $10 in prize money and $25 toward the “reunion” for the canceled 1910 event.¹⁴⁶

In 1912, a parallel course of events unfolded: a convention scheduled for Saturday, August 17, at which cash prizes would be “offered for both fiddling and singing as usual,” was canceled “on account of a sufficient amount of money not being sent in for the prizes.”¹⁴⁷ Townsend's offer to publish the names of political candidates who pledged prize money, with the idea that such an action would win them support, does not seem to have carried enough appeal.¹⁴⁸ A few lackluster calls for subscriptions in 1914, which again contained a direct appeal to political candidates, suggested that a convention was in the works for the third Sunday in August, but there is no clear evidence that it took place.¹⁴⁹ In 1915, Townsend mused that if he continued to feel as fit as he had been in recent days, he would “aim to call a fiddlers and singing convention so everybody can enjoy themselves once more in the good old town of Dahlonega,” while 1917 elicited only the comment that “if it wasn't for the war we would have another old time fiddlers convention. How would you like it?”¹⁵⁰ A convention planned for the first Saturday in August 1918 was again canceled, several weeks after Townsend ran a rather petulant article in which he published the names of subscribers to a convention “a number of years ago when the citizens all pulled together, causing the town to prosper, everybody to be in peace and happy.”¹⁵¹ Throughout the 1910s, therefore, the Lumpkin County Fiddlers Convention was more literary motif than actual event. There were no mentions of fiddlers’ conventions after 1918, hypothetical or otherwise.

Although fiddling in Lumpkin County might have declined to the point where large conventions were no longer feasible, it retained enough popular appeal to serve political candidates on the campaign trail. As Peter La Chapelle has demonstrated, Southern politicians have used fiddle music to attract crowds and convey a populist image since at least 1878, when Bob Taylor played the fiddle after speeches in his pursuit of a congressional seat representing his district in East Tennessee.¹⁵² While it may be true, as La Chapelle claims, that individuals in pursuit of national office were no longer fiddling after Taylor's death in 1912, Townsend reported in 1928 that, while seeking the office of Lumpkin County Sheriff, Anderson “carries his fiddle and while out through the country, gives campaign musical entertainments.”¹⁵³ Townsend suggested that this gave him an edge over his nonmusical competitors.

La Chapelle also documents the employment of string bands by political campaigns in the early twentieth century, again to convey a populist message.¹⁵⁴ The Nugget contains two early examples of this practice. In 1914, Dr. Arnold, then a candidate for the state legislature, visited Nimblewill and Mill Creek “with his string band to furnish music before speaking.” Although successful in the first instance, his ruse backfired in the second when the crowd almost drove away one of his band members “because he had been going with the revenue officers.”¹⁵⁵ Ten years later, Col. Sam Brown of Lawrenceville appeared with a string band as he campaigned for a seat in congress. Brown used the band to preface an afternoon address and then offered an evening concert at which he also spoke. Townsend indicated admiration for the ingenuity by which Brown convinced audience members to pay twenty-five cents admission to a campaign event and complimented the band, which appears to have included Gid Tanner (later to record with the Skillet Lickers). Indeed, the “three other musicians” mentioned may have included Riley Puckett or other Tanner collaborators of the era.¹⁵⁶

Finally, Townsend offers some insight into the repertoire of North Georgia fiddlers in the early twentieth century. He mentions a total of thirteen tunes across the two decades under consideration. Some, such as “Billy in the Low Ground,” “Leather Breeches,” “Katy Hill,” and “Hop Light Ladies,” are prominent in the recorded Georgia repertoire and well known to fiddlers today. (Interestingly, Townsend reports the last of these tunes being played to him over the telephone—a practice that he documented on several occasions.)¹⁵⁷ “In the Sweet Bye and Bye,” although better known as a hymn than a fiddle tune, is also familiar. Other titles, such as “Devil's Broke Loose in Georgia,” “Devil on the Hillside,” and “Going to the Wild Woods to Catch a Buffalo,” cannot be specifically identified but do suggest possible relationships with known tunes (e.g. “Hell Broke Loose in Georgia,” recorded by the Skillet Lickers in 1929). However, we cannot be sure what these sounded like, nor can we recover “Heights of Alabama,” “Tipacanoo,” “The Unfortunate Purp,” “Neel's Gap Waltz” (named after a locale in the mountains), or “I'm Going to the Wedding, Miss Polly Ann” (mentioned twice, once as being played with the accompaniment of fiddle sticks).¹⁵⁸

Sacred Singing

Throughout the period under consideration, singing in churches received more attention in the Nugget than any other form of musical activity. Despite this, we are left with frustratingly little detail concerning what that singing was like. It is clear that all-day singings constituted a significant part of social life in Lumpkin County, as indicated by frequent announcements and reports associating the practice with no fewer than thirty local churches and two schoolhouses. A typical entry reads, “We are requested to state that there will be an all day singing at Wahoo church next Sunday and dinner on the ground.”¹⁵⁹ Townsend took his obligation to print notices of singings (as well as other church events) very seriously, often reminding his readers that he would do so “free of charge, matters not what denomination.”¹⁶⁰ Instrumental accompaniment, when mentioned, was always provided by the organ.¹⁶¹ Drinking and rowdy behavior were of some concern, and the Ku Klux Klan visited singings in the mid-1920s ostensibly to keep order, meeting with Townsend's approval.¹⁶² Titles of songs and songbooks, however, are almost invariably omitted.

It is likely that singers in the region would have employed seven-shape books in the gospel style, although they were also familiar with older four-shape repertoire.¹⁶³ The most prominent local advocate of “the old time four note books” was Uncle Marv Grizzle, a song leader active in the first half of the 1910s.¹⁶⁴ Although the books are not specified, it is likely that Grizzle led out of The Sacred Harp (1844, with multiple revisions), which was originally published in Georgia. Grizzle sometimes led alongside John Anderson, who evidently favored more recent songs and styles, in which case the participants would engage a mixed repertoire. Occasional notices indicate that a singing would employ “old and new books,” such as one that took place at Town Creek church in 1912, or even just “the old time books,” which singers were invited to bring to Wahoo church in 1927.¹⁶⁵

The title of a songbook is mentioned just once, in a notice from 1912: “Prof. W. A. Waters will be at Yahoola church on the 1st Sunday to conduct a singing in the old books [sic], Christian Harmony. Everybody, both old and young, are invited.” The Christian Harmony is a seven-shape book first published in 1867. It was revised in 1873 and reprinted several times in the early twentieth century.¹⁶⁶ Although Lumpkin singers would have had easy access to the volume, it is clear from this and other notices that Christian Harmony was not the book they typically used. Another notice from the same year invites singers to “carry dinner and all your No. 10 books and spend a full days [sic] enjoyment” at Wahoo church.¹⁶⁷ This is almost certainly a reference to John B. Vaughan and Samuel W. Beazley's gospel collection Windows of Heaven No. 10, published nearby in Athens, Georgia, that same year.¹⁶⁸ Further clues can be found in a contemporaneous account of a singer who,

The refrain mentioned comes from the Robert Lowry song “The Glorious Day Is Coming,” which appears in the round-note collection Bright Jewels (1869).¹⁷⁰ Other verses and song titles mentioned in the Nugget, such as J. Gilchrist Lawson and Charles Gabriel's “Honey from the Rock” (1912), likewise connect with the gospel repertoire.¹⁷¹

The only mention of the most famous Southern shape-note collection, The Sacred Harp, appears in an unusual context. In 1928, a series of notices indicated that the Smith Sacred Harp Singers of Braselton were to give three performances in the area, first at Siloam church on May 27, with a return engagement on June 17, and then at the Methodist Episcopal church in Dahlonega on July 8. The notices are a bit confusing; one states that “the Smiths from Braselton will have an all day singing at Siloam,” which suggests a participatory event, but the others make it clear that these were in fact performances.¹⁷² Those who attended the Siloam engagement “spent most of Sunday . . . listening to the music furnished by the Smith Sacred Singers of Braselton,” while in their final appearance the Smiths “delighted the big crowd . . . with very fine vocal music. The best that has been heard in Dahlonega in a long time.”¹⁷³ The group is only referred to as the “Smith Sacred Harp Singers” in the final notice, and it is possible that the addition of “Harp” to their name was an editorial error. However, it is plausible that they were indeed a family ensemble who performed selections from The Sacred Harp, perhaps with instrumental accompaniment. This would put them in company with groups like J. T. Allison's Sacred Harp Singers, who recorded for Gennett in 1927 and 1928.¹⁷⁴ It was common for professional vocal ensembles of this type to visit the area, often in conjunction with revivals or other meetings. For example, the Nelson Male Quartette participated in the Ashe reunion at Mt. Pisgah church in July 1926.¹⁷⁵

Lines between performance and participation were blurred in other contexts as well. The Yahoola singing class, led by Anderson and cited above for taking a prize at the 1909 Lumpkin County Fiddlers Convention, appeared in numerous venues between 1909 and 1912. Townsend reported in September 1910 that the Methodist church was “full of people last Sunday afternoon to hear the Yahoola class sing,” indicating that this was a performance.¹⁷⁶ However, when the class failed to make a scheduled appearance at the courthouse in October 1912 due to the weather, “a goodly number joined in here and made it interesting to all present.”¹⁷⁷ Lumpkin residents certainly had access to education in singing and note reading. Anderson ran regular singing schools at the courthouse and the Baptist church in 1912, and was cited for conducting a ten-day singing school at Philippi church in 1923.¹⁷⁸ It is likely that he was also active as a teacher between these years. In 1915, Ed Carroll led a ten-day singing school at Cavender's Creek church, while in 1912 his school at Macedonia church was disrupted when “a certain person ‘blessed out’ the singing master and told him he would put a dynamite under the house. This wasn't done, but when night came the black board was destroyed.”¹⁷⁹ Carroll frequently led all-day singings between 1912 and 1920.

Singing was often incorporated into Sunday School activities and celebrations, which were associated primarily with the Baptist and Methodist churches.¹⁸⁰ The same denominations hosted revivals and camp meetings, some of which brought the white and African American communities together to hear preaching and to sing.¹⁸¹ In 1917, the choir at the Presbyterian church participated in monthly Vespers services, held at 4:30 pm on Sunday.¹⁸² They worked under the direction of Ferdinand Ruge, a professor of modern languages at NGAC whose “efforts to bring out the local talent of which there is no lack in our community” were praised by Townsend.¹⁸³ Townsend also documented the musical activities of local Pentecostals, although in less effusive terms; he was clearly skeptical of their beliefs and practices. In 1912 he compared the singing of Pentecostal women to “a man's angry wife . . . preaching his funeral, at the same time cursing like a sailor, wanting him damned.”¹⁸⁴ Two years later he described a meeting of African American Pentecostals as

Townsend's caricature of the scene witnessed is typical of his reporting on the musical activities of both African Americans and Pentecostals, two communities to which he was a largely disdainful outsider.

African American Musicking

Throughout our two decades of the Nugget, Townsend deliberately illustrated a “separate” (and hardly “equal”) racial divide in Lumpkin and surrounding counties. State laws mandating segregation were ruled constitutional under the Supreme Court case Plessy v. Ferguson just twelve years prior to the first issue in our body of research. Over the span of twenty years, the newspaper mentioned only a few dozen instances of African American musicking. It is imperative that we consider the intransigent and prevailing white societal dominance while analyzing this primary source. Townsend's few reports on African American musicking constitute glimpses of the community through an unfortunately distorting lens.

The majority of Townsend's reports concern revivals, camp meetings, singings, and informal gatherings that took place at African American churches, all of which attracted white participants and auditors. Before the Civil War, many African Americans attended the white Baptist and Methodist churches, where they were allocated seats in the gallery. They also held their own afternoon services. In his 1932 history of Lumpkin County, Andrew Cain notes that African American parishioners “sang with the whites” in the morning, but engaged in more spirited music-making in the afternoons, suggesting a long history of both mixed-race music-making and white observation of Black music-making.¹⁸⁶ After the war, African Americans left the white churches and established their own. The most influential of these was Hickory Grove, which was founded in 1880 and continues to operate as a house of worship under the name Hickory Grove Christian Methodist Episcopal.

It seems that white Dahlonega residents were fascinated by Black church music. In July 1910, Townsend reported that “quite a number of white people were present to hear the good old time singing” at a recent children's service at the African American Baptist church.¹⁸⁷ The following month he reported on the regional meeting of the Colored Baptist Association, noting that “many white people went out on Sunday to hear these colored people sing which was very interesting. Most everybody is fond of good singing, and if the members of the white churches here would employ muic [sic] teachers to instruct a class in singing at each church it would build up the congregations and do much good.”¹⁸⁸ Later, Townsend published frequently on the activities of the Hickory Grove and Wahoo singing classes, both of which made public appearances attended by citizens of both races.¹⁸⁹ White residents also attended all-day singings at Hickory Grove and other churches, as well as concerts and other entertainments at the Hickory Grove School.¹⁹⁰

In describing mixed-race religious gatherings hosted by African American churches, such as that which attracted “more whites than negroes” to Lizard Lope church in 1915, or another held at “the colored church in Wahoo” in 1922, Townsend sometimes emphasized the role of alcohol, describing boisterous scenes of preaching and singing.¹⁹¹ He offered a similarly vivid account of a camp meeting that took place in White County in 1925.¹⁹² While Townsend could also be critical of drinking and violence at white revivals and singings, his reporting often contributed to racist beliefs concerning Black immorality.

Finally, Townsend left scattered records of nonreligious Black musicking. These included a description of an African American prisoner in Milledgeville who “plays his banjo from morning till night,” a few accounts of boisterous dances, and a lengthy portrait of “Uncle” Tom Whelchel, who “stays at the Mountain Inn and furnishes amusement for the boarders by patting, singing and telling things that took place long ago while a slave.”¹⁹³ All of these supported racist categorizations of African Americans as either dangerous and out of control or subservient and harmless.

Conclusion

This overview of musical activity in Lumpkin County tugs against dominant narratives concerning Southern Appalachian musicking in the early decades of the twentieth century. Practices traditionally associated with the region both then and now, such as fiddling and square dancing, were in decline and viewed as old-fashioned by Townsend and his readership. While urban Americans imagined small Southern Appalachian towns as the last bastions of traditional culture, Dahlonega residents were listening to phonograph records, dancing to jazz, and visiting the Atlanta opera. Indeed, the iconic Appalachian practice of ballad singing is mentioned in the pages of the Nugget only once—in a 1921 column reprinted from the Concord Monitor that laments the passing of wholesome domestic singing.¹⁹⁴

The relative modernity of Dahlonega was predicated both on its proximity to Atlanta and on the fact that it housed an institution of higher learning. NGAC shaped local engagement with music by supplying up-to-date entertainment, as well as education in singing and instrumental music. College professors became deeply involved in the local community, performing and teaching beyond their formal duties. NGAC also anchored the local economy through a period of population shrinkage and significant national and global turmoil. While one would expect to encounter a different cultural landscape in a community without a college, there were quite a few such institutions in North Georgia in the early twentieth century, and they had a significant reach. Few mountain residents would have escaped their influence altogether, as demonstrated by the NGAC outreach activities documented here. NGAC, however, did not in any way “spoil” local culture. Dahlonega was a fully “authentic” Southern Appalachian town, and the musical activities of its residents are as worthy of study as those of any other.

While the Nugget was an unusually interesting and influential newspaper, sources of this type are widely available and becoming easier to access. Our collaboration allowed undergraduates and community members to make essential contributions to this project, which would have been unwieldy in scope for a single researcher. This approach invites community engagement and investment, while our findings are relevant to present-day music curators and teachers in Lumpkin County who hold an interest in sustaining the region's music traditions.¹⁹⁵

Notes