George Singleton writes of 'Dixieland' and Southern culture

George Buster Singleton

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Why did song ‘Dixie’ disappear from culture,” was originally published in the March 9, 1989 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

The name “Dixie” is probably a bit of Franco-American slang born in the Mississippi River boat trade, though some same it derived from the Mason-Dixon Line, the imaginary boundary line between North and South.

It had become a universal nickname for the South long before the Civil War. But the believed origin was derived from the most endearing of all commodities, money.

The financial houses of New Orleans had within their bank notes a $10 bill. On the corners of this bank note was the French word “dix.” The rough, rugged boatmen and stevedores of the New Orleans waterfront called these bills “dixies.” Thus, the story goes that because of this, the great river basin in the lower South acquired the name “Dixieland.”

Many rumors give evidence as to who actually wrote the song “Dixie.” It was 1859 before the words made their formal debut in song, though the early stages of the Southern anthem, or something quite like it, had been sung on the plantations and steamboat decks for generations before.

What actually started out as a minstrel-show tune, changed meaning when on Feb. 18, 1861, Jefferson Davis was inducted as president of the Confederacy in Montgomery.

As a small band wound its way up the hill toward the Capitol under the direction of Herman Arnold, a naturalized German music teacher, the small marching band struck up Arnold’s version of “I Wish I Was in Dixieland.” Soldiers from the 1^st Alabama Regiment were the escort. They were the first to march to the peppy music of the grand tune.

The song was an overnight sensation; even Abraham Lincoln liked it. Just a little more than four years after its Montgomery debut, he was in the final week of his life, President Lincoln took “Dixie” back into the Union.

It was April 8, 1865. President Lincoln was returning from a tour of the Union Army camps near Richmond, Va. He had boarded a paddle-wheel steamer, the River Queen, for his return trip to Washington.

A Federal Army band was aboard. Mr. Lincoln asked the director of the band if he knew “Dixie.”

“It has always been a favorite tune of mine,” stated the president, “and since it is now Federal property, we have the perfect right to enjoy it. Also, the Rebels can now be free to hear it and play it whenever they choose.”

The Federal Army band on board the River Queen struck up the sweet, inspiring tune “Dixie.” When the music had died away, there was clapping of hands and other applause.

Within minutes, the River Queen slipped away downstream, bearing President Lincoln on the last trip of his life.

With all the history that is associated with this grand old tune, why must our society of today hide a song that has meant so much in the past?

Nowhere in the lyrics of the old song do I recall anything about hate, race or slavery. As I have stated many times, our modern-day history tends to fabricate and misquote the actual happenings of yesteryear.

As we sink deeper into our worlds of fantasy, we are widening the gaps from truth and reality. Our fantasies will soon push us forever from the pages of our true heritage to the make-believe world of fiction and falsehood.

Our national cemeteries, where those who have fallen in the defense of their beliefs wait for the final roll call of judgement, will be sold to the highest foreign bidder, and a video factory will fill the landscape that once was hallowed ground.

Gone forever will be America as we knew it, and the pitiful few who dare to recite our National Anthem will have to do so in top secrecy for fear of their life.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done.
In the storm of the years that are fading,
No braver battle was won.
Under the sod and dew of the evening,
Waiting for the judgement day,
The forgotten graves of the Blue
And the not-remembered graves of the Gray.

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, was bitten at least twice by venomous snakes, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)