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Old Josh: The Funeral
[Ozark, Alabama, 1864]
Chapter Episode Four 8/2005]
[Josh and Silas: The funeral] Josh stood by he wooden cross, in the graveyard Jordan, his cousin, who had fought with the Yankees, had come home--Josh and his two sons Silas and Toby had journeyed down to a section of South Carolina know as the Richland Country, they wanted Josh to give a sermon. Mr. Hightower, his overseer agreed to allow this, and wrote a letter, had it notarized indicating these Negroes belonged to him, and were not escaping or running away, that anyone whom might be in authority, to allow them to attend the funeral without delay.
This part of the country had it share, or I should say, more than its share of superstitions (having lived in the Carolina's I can vouch for that). There were tales of African Terror created by the canebrakes and Jungles--its yellow waters, dikes and slave dap. And so Josh found his way to the funeral location.
Interlude
The dialect is of course English influenced by traditions, and sentient of the times, of African slaves. I agree few words are distinguishable, but there is a rhythm to it, and I have tired to duplicate it. It is a peculiar sound with significance. This is/was of its day pure Negro, not a dialect of the coast, or the Black Border, but rather a distinct product of the soil, race, environment, their world. It is English adapted to the need of its speakers.
In those days many of the Negroes wee hybrids to speak of, black with white and Indian blood, or as we world say now, part of their genetic pool. Now back to the story.
The Funeral:
Says Josh, standing by the grave of his cousin, fifty black folks, Negroes there with him: family members, and old friends:
Josh: Is you her da news?
Voices: wuh news
Josh: wite folks dhe blue-coats goina win dhe wor!
Silas: pop 'tanint no difference, all two de-same when it's wite folk, free or not.
Toby: you all remble off, wht de seromon pop?
Josh looking at the crowd, then at his sons, especially Silas:
Josh: wes live on bacon, cornbread an cabbage...
Silas: pop, dthe serman...
Josh: so he luh dem wite folk wander on... (Everyone starts to laugh, but Silas, he just shakes his head).
Josh: Silas wants us niggers to go in dem swamps an' live, like de site folks want..."
A Voices: its best dont middle wid nobody, dats what I say
Josh: I sees a dog goes in da wasmp an' git lost, an't die-y air' got much sense as a man who loss. I tells my boys bring 'em to dey senses wid a stick. (Josh now moves, waves his cane in the air, up to the heavens, as if he was Moses.)
Well, ain't none er dem wite folk--da gray religious guh hep dem.
Silas: Pappy, I ain't gub jine you in all you say; pray say dthe sermon.
(Josh clears his throat, looks at the son, smiles, pats his hand on his shoulder, looks up to heaven--)
Josh: I knows I ain't thinking 'bout no love er God when I's all tored up so furgive me, but me bones witen like me boss MR. Hightower, he jes cant see dem, and' no me sermon folks:
'Our brother is gone, he dead, he lives in rest, arms of gloary, he breathes in Jesus, fre of dis world below asleep in dhe old graveyard an' dhe hear dhe mokinbirds ...ol brother Jordan--he looks down wid pity, on us ol friends, smiles he does, free of dis world below ...he asleep under de earth by de soul dat is flown de arms of dth savior my brotherin an' sisters we is here today to pr'y to weep, his life full of trouble an' hardships He wis suffernin to set to set us niggers free, he's gone, gave de body of Jordon, stiff an' cool, life is done...he now at dhe pearly gates on'y his body life fur us weepers and mourners de singer of songs.
--most of the Negroes had bare feet, folks in cotton bagging and split flour sack cloths. A few umbrellas by their side, some mules tied to a tree. A few grunted faces. The headstone was plain; just a flat stone with his name, and his name cared in it: a date and the date cared in it--: showing his birth and death [1803-1864]; that was the sum of it. Into the dirt he went. It was a bit damp, and Josh's rheumatism was acting up, his hands were heavy, hard lifting--he hobbled along side his sons leaving the cemetery, using a stick for a cane. Then three men picked up shovels--
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
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