Now brave the Klansmen rallied there
In Maxton town that night,
All armed with knives and pistol guns
And honing for a fight.
Oh, rally round, you Klansmen bold,
But do not show your face.
We'll burn the fiery cross tonight
And save the Nordic race.
Oh the Klan,
Oh the Klan,
It calls on every red blood fighting man
Who is free and white and bigot,
Gets his courage from a spigot,
And protects his racial purity the very best he can.
The Indians, the Indians,
They are our natural foe,
They lure our girls with coke and pie
And take them to the show,
They wear blue jeans and leather coats,
But anyone can see,
They are not real Americans
The like of you and me.
The heroes left their stores and plows,
Their pool-halls and their bars,
And in their gallant hooded shirts
They drove up in their cars,
For in this grave emergency
That mustered every soul,
Who should appear to lead the fight
But Wizard Jimmy Kole!
Now as the cars were drawing in
An ominous sound was heard.
Was that an Indian battle cry
Or just a gooney bird?
Is that a gooney bird I see
Or grandpa's fighting cock,
Or is it a Lumbee war bonnet
That comes from Chimney Rock?
Oh the Klan,
Oh the Klan,
It calls on ev'ry red blood fighting man
Who is free and white and bigot,
Gets his courage from a spigot,
And protects his racial purity the very best he can
The headlights shone, the Klansmen stood
In circle brave and fine,
When suddenly a whoop was heard
That curdled every spine,
An Indian youth with steely eyes,
Sauntered in alone,
He calmly drew his shootin' iron
And conked the microphone.
Another shot, the lights went out,
There was a moment's hush,
Then a hundred thousand Lumbee boys
Came screaming from the brush.
Well, maybe not a million quite,
But surely more than four,
And the Klansmen shook from head to foot
And headed for the door.
The Lumbee Indians whooped and howled
In the ancient Lumbee way,
And the Klansmen melted off the ground
Like snow on a sunny day.
Our histories will long record
That perilous advance,
When many a Klansman left the field
With buckshot in his pants.
Oh the Klan,
Oh the Klan,
It calls on ev'ry red blood fighting man
Who is free and white and bigot,
Gets his courage from a spigot,
And protects his racial purity the very best he can
The coppers listened from afar,
They did not lift a gun.
They heard the noise, they said, "The boys
Are having a little fun"
But when they saw the nightshirt lads
Trooping down the road,
They knew that something went amiss,
The wrong switch had been throwed.
When the coppers reached the battlefield,
They saw no single soul;
In Pembroke town, the Indians
Were hanging Jimmy Kole.
Not James himself, for he had fled
With his shirt-tail waving free,
But all the joyful Lumbee boys,
They hanged his effigy.
Oh the Klan,
Oh the Klan,
They've hung their little nightshirts in the can,1
If you want to see them run,
Shoot a pistol toward the sun,
And give an Indian warwhoop like a joyful Lumbee man.
In Maxton town that night,
All armed with knives and pistol guns
And honing for a fight.
Oh, rally round, you Klansmen bold,
But do not show your face.
We'll burn the fiery cross tonight
And save the Nordic race.
Oh the Klan,
Oh the Klan,
It calls on every red blood fighting man
Who is free and white and bigot,
Gets his courage from a spigot,
And protects his racial purity the very best he can.
The Indians, the Indians,
They are our natural foe,
They lure our girls with coke and pie
And take them to the show,
They wear blue jeans and leather coats,
But anyone can see,
They are not real Americans
The like of you and me.
The heroes left their stores and plows,
Their pool-halls and their bars,
And in their gallant hooded shirts
They drove up in their cars,
For in this grave emergency
That mustered every soul,
Who should appear to lead the fight
But Wizard Jimmy Kole!
Now as the cars were drawing in
An ominous sound was heard.
Was that an Indian battle cry
Or just a gooney bird?
Is that a gooney bird I see
Or grandpa's fighting cock,
Or is it a Lumbee war bonnet
That comes from Chimney Rock?
Oh the Klan,
Oh the Klan,
It calls on ev'ry red blood fighting man
Who is free and white and bigot,
Gets his courage from a spigot,
And protects his racial purity the very best he can
The headlights shone, the Klansmen stood
In circle brave and fine,
When suddenly a whoop was heard
That curdled every spine,
An Indian youth with steely eyes,
Sauntered in alone,
He calmly drew his shootin' iron
And conked the microphone.
Another shot, the lights went out,
There was a moment's hush,
Then a hundred thousand Lumbee boys
Came screaming from the brush.
Well, maybe not a million quite,
But surely more than four,
And the Klansmen shook from head to foot
And headed for the door.
The Lumbee Indians whooped and howled
In the ancient Lumbee way,
And the Klansmen melted off the ground
Like snow on a sunny day.
Our histories will long record
That perilous advance,
When many a Klansman left the field
With buckshot in his pants.
Oh the Klan,
Oh the Klan,
It calls on ev'ry red blood fighting man
Who is free and white and bigot,
Gets his courage from a spigot,
And protects his racial purity the very best he can
The coppers listened from afar,
They did not lift a gun.
They heard the noise, they said, "The boys
Are having a little fun"
But when they saw the nightshirt lads
Trooping down the road,
They knew that something went amiss,
The wrong switch had been throwed.
When the coppers reached the battlefield,
They saw no single soul;
In Pembroke town, the Indians
Were hanging Jimmy Kole.
Not James himself, for he had fled
With his shirt-tail waving free,
But all the joyful Lumbee boys,
They hanged his effigy.
Oh the Klan,
Oh the Klan,
They've hung their little nightshirts in the can,1
If you want to see them run,
Shoot a pistol toward the sun,
And give an Indian warwhoop like a joyful Lumbee man.
Contributed by giorgio - 2009/5/27 - 17:37
Language: English
A metà degli anni 50, quando le istanze del movimento per i diritti civili cominciavano ad essere accolte anche a livello istituzionale (la sentenza della Corte Suprema che avviò il processo di desegregazione razziale è del 1954, si veda State of Arkansas (My Name Is Terry Roberts)), le organizzazioni suprematiste, in testa il Ku Klux Klan, cominciarono a innervosirsi e misero in piedi una vera e propria campagna di terrore. Nel South Carolina il predicatore evangelico James W. "Catfish" Cole, “grande dragone” del Klan, scatenò i suoi incappucciati contro le minoranze razziali della regione ed in particolare contro i Lumbee, una tribù di nativi stanziata nella zona di confine con il North Carolina. Per mesi i Klaners terrorizzarono i pellerossa, accusati di promuovere l’imbastardimento della razza bianca attraverso i matrimoni misti.
La sera del 18 gennaio 1958 un centinaio di attivisti del Klan con i loro familiari si diedero appuntamento a Hayes Pond, una località vicino a Maxton, cittadina cuore della comunità Lumbee, per una dimostrazione che avrebbe voluto essere di forza... Ma come già il General Custer a Little Big Horn, i visi pallidi sottovalutarono gli indiani: i klaners furono circondati da 5 o 600 Lumbee incazzati ed armati, molti dei quali - come il leader Simeon Oxendine - veterani decorati della seconda guerra mondiale che le armi le sapevano usare, eccome...
Bastarono qualche mazzata e qualche colpo in aria e i tracotanti suprematisti se la diedero a gambe levate, abbandonando divise, bandiere, croci e persino mogli e figli sul posto... Pare che il “grande dragone” James W. "Pesce Gatto" Cole sia stato “ripescato” in mezzo ad una palude lì vicina mentre cercava di nascondersi...
La “battaglia” di Maxton mise per sempre fine all’attività del Klan nella regione e Cole si fece pure un anno di prigione per incitamento ai disordini. Poi la vergogna lo indusse a trasferirsi in un altro Stato...
La sera del 18 gennaio 1958 un centinaio di attivisti del Klan con i loro familiari si diedero appuntamento a Hayes Pond, una località vicino a Maxton, cittadina cuore della comunità Lumbee, per una dimostrazione che avrebbe voluto essere di forza... Ma come già il General Custer a Little Big Horn, i visi pallidi sottovalutarono gli indiani: i klaners furono circondati da 5 o 600 Lumbee incazzati ed armati, molti dei quali - come il leader Simeon Oxendine - veterani decorati della seconda guerra mondiale che le armi le sapevano usare, eccome...
Bastarono qualche mazzata e qualche colpo in aria e i tracotanti suprematisti se la diedero a gambe levate, abbandonando divise, bandiere, croci e persino mogli e figli sul posto... Pare che il “grande dragone” James W. "Pesce Gatto" Cole sia stato “ripescato” in mezzo ad una palude lì vicina mentre cercava di nascondersi...
Simeon Oxendine e Charlie Warriax, leader dei Lumbee vittoriosi si prendono gioco del Klan avvolgendosi in una delle bandiere lasciate dai suprematisti nella loro precipitosa fuga.
La “battaglia” di Maxton mise per sempre fine all’attività del Klan nella regione e Cole si fece pure un anno di prigione per incitamento ai disordini. Poi la vergogna lo indusse a trasferirsi in un altro Stato...
Pete Seeger diede una sua versione della canzone della Reynolds nel disco “Gazette, Vol. 1” del 1958, dal che deduco che la canzone originale - che pure la Reynolds incise solo nel 1967 - deve risalire proprio al 1958, scritta nell’immediatezza degli eventi...
BATTLE OF MAXTON FIELD
Oh, have you seen the bed-sheet boys
the terrors of the night?
They rallied here at Maxton
just honin' for a fight
rally around you Klansmen bold
but do not show your face
we'll burn the fiety cross tonight
and save the nordic race
Oh the Klan, oh the klan
it calls on ev’ry red-blood fighting man
If your are free and white and bigot
get your courage from a spigot
they be needing reinforcements
for to fight the Indian
Now the Indians, the Indians
they are our natural foe
they lure our girls with coke and pie
take them to a show
They wear blue jeans and leather coats
but anyone can see
they are not reall americans
the likes of you and me
Now the head-lights shone, the klansmen stood
in circle brave and fine
when suddenly a whoop was heard
that curdled every spine
An Indian youth with steely eyes
he sauntered in alone
he calmly drew his shooting iron
and conked the microphone
Oh the Klan, oh the klan
it calls on ev’ry red-blood fighting man
If your are free and white and bigot
get your courage from a spigot
they be needing reinforcements
for to fight the Indian
Now another shot, the lights went out
there was a moment's hush
then a hundred thousand Lumbee boys
came screaming from the brush
Well, maybe not a million quite
but surely more than four
the Klansmen shook from head to foot
and headed for the door
Now the troopers they were down the road
they did not lift a gun
they heard the noise, they said “The boys
were having a little fun”
But when they saw the night-shirt lads
streaming down the road
they knew that something went amiss
the wrong switch had been throwed
One lonely Klansman in the brush
The troopers chanced to find.
“The Klanvocation ran away
And left me here behind!”
He staggered home that greenish morn
to greet his loving wife
She beamed him with a rolling pin
for losing her kitchen knife.
Oh the Klan, oh the klan
it calls on ev’ry red-blood fighting man
If your are free and white and bigot
get your courage from a spigot
they be needing reinforcements
for to fight the Indian
Oh, have you seen the bed-sheet boys
the terrors of the night?
They rallied here at Maxton
just honin' for a fight
rally around you Klansmen bold
but do not show your face
we'll burn the fiety cross tonight
and save the nordic race
Oh the Klan, oh the klan
it calls on ev’ry red-blood fighting man
If your are free and white and bigot
get your courage from a spigot
they be needing reinforcements
for to fight the Indian
Now the Indians, the Indians
they are our natural foe
they lure our girls with coke and pie
take them to a show
They wear blue jeans and leather coats
but anyone can see
they are not reall americans
the likes of you and me
Now the head-lights shone, the klansmen stood
in circle brave and fine
when suddenly a whoop was heard
that curdled every spine
An Indian youth with steely eyes
he sauntered in alone
he calmly drew his shooting iron
and conked the microphone
Oh the Klan, oh the klan
it calls on ev’ry red-blood fighting man
If your are free and white and bigot
get your courage from a spigot
they be needing reinforcements
for to fight the Indian
Now another shot, the lights went out
there was a moment's hush
then a hundred thousand Lumbee boys
came screaming from the brush
Well, maybe not a million quite
but surely more than four
the Klansmen shook from head to foot
and headed for the door
Now the troopers they were down the road
they did not lift a gun
they heard the noise, they said “The boys
were having a little fun”
But when they saw the night-shirt lads
streaming down the road
they knew that something went amiss
the wrong switch had been throwed
One lonely Klansman in the brush
The troopers chanced to find.
“The Klanvocation ran away
And left me here behind!”
He staggered home that greenish morn
to greet his loving wife
She beamed him with a rolling pin
for losing her kitchen knife.
Oh the Klan, oh the klan
it calls on ev’ry red-blood fighting man
If your are free and white and bigot
get your courage from a spigot
they be needing reinforcements
for to fight the Indian
Contributed by Bernart - 2013/11/29 - 20:00
The Ballad of Maxton commemorates the Battle of Hayes Pond between the Lumbee Indians and the Ku Klux Klan near Maxton, North Carolina https://soundcloud.com/user660132316/b...
Joe DeFilippo - 2019/1/2 - 16:56
NEW LINK
The Ballad of Maxton commemorates the Battle of Hayes Pond between the Lumbee Indians and the Ku Klux Klan near Maxton, North Carolina https://soundcloud.com/hillipsand/ball...
The Ballad of Maxton commemorates the Battle of Hayes Pond between the Lumbee Indians and the Ku Klux Klan near Maxton, North Carolina https://soundcloud.com/hillipsand/ball...
Joe DeFilippo - 2019/2/5 - 17:02
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