JoeMc (Curator)

Pioneers sometimes come in unexpected and unwanted forms. Take the case of Polk Miller. Who would have thought that the son of a slave owner, who himself firmly believed in the institution of slavery, would spend his life popularizing black music as a member of the first integrated group in American music?

Born in Virginia in 1844, Polk Miller grew up on a plantation run by slave labor. As a boy, he was fascinated by the music of his father's slaves and learned to play banjo from them. Soon after, however, in a pattern that would reoccur throughout his life, he spent several years fighting to defend slavery as a member of the Confederate army. Miller was indeed well-suited to a grey uniform.

After the war ended, Miller returned to civilian life and became a druggist. A remedy that he concocted to nurse his ailing dog Sergeant turned into a successful business, and Miller became one of Richmond's most prominent businessmen. (His pet care brand, Sergeant's, is still around, by the way.) All this time, though, Miller would break out his banjo and entertain his friends with old spirituals from the plantation.

Finally, in 1892, Miller handed his business over to his son and became a full-time entertainer. Ever mindful of the sounds of the singing he'd heard as a boy, he hired a black quartet to accompany him in his reproductions of spirituals and folk songs he loved. This fivesome soon began to tour the country, playing and singing at everything from big city socials to monument raisings in country towns. Mark Twain caught them at Madison Square Garden after the turn of the century and remarked that "Polk Miller and his wonderful four is about the only thing the country can furnish that is originally and utterly American."

In 1909, while stopping in New Jersey, Miller and his Old South Quartette recorded 7 records for the Edison company. One of these is featured in today's post. The remarkable thing about "Jerusalem Mournin'," as well as the other six songs recorded at this time, is how well the group is integrated musically as well as racially. Miller, despite being the undisputed leader of the group, gives the Quartette full room to display their talents, from the call and response led by tenor Randall Graves to the way pre-doowop "bom bom boms" by bass singer James L. Stamper.

But, lest you think all was honey and good cheer, Miller made no bones about his quartet of singers being his "boys" and his "employees," and he went through over 20 different members in the 13 years the group existed. He firmly believed that most blacks were happier under the plantation system even as he sang the very spirituals that testified to their hope for deliverance.

Ironically, the Old South Quartette finally disbanded in 1912 because Miller was tired of dealing with the bigotry he and his group encountered. In the South, "hoodlums" would threaten the group with violence, while in the North, society matrons would disdain the presence of an integrated group in their towns. Miller would sometimes fear for the safety of his group members and often had to hire police to protect them.

Polk Miller died soon after he broke up his group, in October of 1913, at age 69. In his long career, Miller was both one of the few proudly Confederate soldiers to record and an enthusastic member of an integrated group. He was both a representative of an unjust and inhumane system and a promoter of black culture. Polk Miller was a living contradiction, much like the America of "all men are equal" and the America of institutionalized slavery that co-existed during his boyhood. Maybe it's this grey area that makes his music so evocative.

For more Polk Miller, check out "What a Time" elsewhere on the FMA. The complete recordings can be found on "Polk Miller and His Old South Quartette" released on Tompkins Square Records late last year.