In _Slave Songs of the United States_ (1967), Allen/etc. offer "Heave Away," which is recognizably the chanty (presumably familiar to most in the sailor version) "Heave Away, My Johnnies." It was a song of Savannah firemen.

Since Stan Hugill ended up reprinting it, I recorded a sample of it back when I was doing all of Hugill's examples:
https://youtu.be/iJXXW94LLbI

The editors of _Slave Songs_ say they got it from Kane O'Donnell, a journalist from Philadelphia.

O'Donnell had been a war correspondent for _The Press_ of Philadelphia, in Savannah in Dec 1864/1865, at the time when General Sherman took the city.

In the Jan. 6, 1865 edition of The Press, O'Donnell's observations of Savannah were printed. One observation was of Sherman's inspection of the city's Black fire companies.

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It is not generally known that the fire-engines of Savannah are, with the exception of their white captains, entirely manned by the slaves, who are immediately officered by firemen of their own. Two or three thousand of those black firemen, all of them delivered bondmen passed by the Exchange, singing twenty or thirty different songs. Their singing is the great character mark of the negroes. Marshaled by their uniformed foremen (most of whom look like stalwart and intelligent fellows), and carrying banners of welcome on which the words “Union,” “Freedom,” “Gen. Sherman,” and “the rebels” were conspicuous at times, they marched on with enthusiasm, making the air wild with their strange, hoarse, musical voices. No singing in the world is like it, and most of the songs are untranslatable. Half a dozen of these airs or choruses rang in the ear at once, as the firemen passed by, keeping all the while the orderly step of soldiers. The verses for the greater part were extemporized by the leaders, each company joining in its own chorus, for I am informed that the different bands of firemen have tunes peculiar to themselves. I caught a few words of one song:
        “I work all night
        ‘Till broad daylight,
And all his fellows joined in:
        “I cannot work any mo’.”
        This refrain alternated constantly with a line extemporized by the leader, and was a never-wearying repetition. There was another, on the same principle, composed of recitative and a short refrain of powerful volume and wonderful effect, called “Granny Ho!” A contraband friend explained to me another as being a “Hoojah song,” and I learned that the Hoojah was a fellow who stole vessels, but whether this song has any connection with Admiral Dahlgren, the blockade-runners, or the pirate Alabama, I could not exactly discover. The tune, however, was enchanting in its way, and more fresh and musical than any of the airs lately in vogue in the negro minstrelsy of the North, which used to pirate so much from the plantations, while it made fun for the oppressors of the slave. The words were extemporized by a smart-looking foreman, and were full of merry points about General Sherman, the rebels, and the great theme of freedom. The chorus was larger and quicker than usual, and wound up with the meaning or unmeaning interrogatory:
        “Yaller gal, don’t ye want to go?”
        The effect of this song was especially great upon the inspired singers, who sang it through with the seriousness peculiar to the slave, and laughed loudly at the end or between verses. I asked one of the firemen if he could tell me the words, but he grinned: “Lor’, I dunno mass’r; de boys mak’t up as dey go ‘long.” I am satisfied that all effort to transcribe these songs is vain. The firemen did not pride themselves especially upon the day’s display, which was much inferior to their annual parade, and gotten up at short notice to please Gen. Sherman; but to every Northerner it was the rarest entertainment which Savannah has given, and perhaps none enjoyed it more than the conqueror of Georgia. As I learned, the slaves (and now the freedmen) had a hundred different songs which they sung at a fire, and that was the place (my informant told me) to hear them sing in their best humor.
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