Chapter X: Foreword (9)

Grace Rivers was her “eentitlement.” The color of her skin was so deep that a piece of charcoal drawn across her face would have left a pallid mark. Although literally on the “shady side” of seventy, she was not regardless of the advantages of dress, and her costume was, like Katisha’s left elbow, worth “coming miles to see.” The gray wool that covered her head was snarled and tangled like a burry merino pelt, but a man’s black straw hat, battered and weather-stained, was set upon it as jauntily as was ever worn the rakish cap of Fra Diavolo! When a fashion-plate had last been seen in her habitat near Ion’s Cross Roads, bustles were “the thing.” Although these protuberances on the human form divine had long since been called in and relegated to the rear (?) they were still “the thing” for Grace. The balloon bustle of the society actress, the oscillating bustle, the coiled-spring variety that rebelled at being sat upon, and, when “crushed to earth,” like truth, would “rise again,” having passed away, were not now obtainable at the country stores; so the ingenuity of this dusky devotee of fashion was called into play, and she had constructed as unique a “dress improver” as was ever worn under the sun--or under a homespun skirt, either, for that matter. A rift in the rear of her gown disclosed the mechanism of this work of art, which was merely a piece of an iron barrel hoop, bent into a half-elipse, and wound with two or three thicknesses of cotton bagging. Primitive as it was, it sufficed to elevate the hind part of her skirt several inches above the level of the lower periphery of the front breadth, which was hidden by an apron made of a rough-dried guano sack, on which appeared in bold stenciled letters, “Ashepoo Acid Phosphate, 200 pounds--privilege tax paid.”

Taking a seat in the counsellor’s office, she said: “Majuh, I come fuh git jestuss yuh teday, teday! W’en my juntlemun, Mistuh Ribbuhs, dead yeah befo’ las’, een Augus’ munt’ (en’ ’e dead ’cause snake structid’um on ’e lef’ han’ feet w’en ’e binnuh gwine to praise meetin’ to Sistuh Gibbes’ house on Hawss Shoe causeway) w’en him dead, ’e lef’ me t’irty acre’ lan’ w’ich ’e buy frum Cap’n Gracy befo’ ’e dead. Now, w’en my juntlemun binnuh lib, Cudjo Singletun en’ ’e fambly buy a piece uh groun’ close to weh we lib, en’ likeso Sambo Hawlback buy groun’ eenjinin’ de same lan’. ’Long ez my juntlemun binnuh _lib_, dem berry well sattify fuh trabble ’longside de aige uh my groun’ w’en dem duh gwine chu’ch, eeduhso to de sto’, but soon ez my juntlemun _dead_, de eegnunt nigguh’ git so swell’up en’ ’laagin’, dem come en’ cut paat’ t’ru my pinelan’, en’ call’um pulblic road. W’en I see de ’ceitfulness’ en’ de ondeestunt gwinin’ en’ gwinin’ uh dese nomannus nigguh’, I git disgus’ wid de nigguh’, en’ I mek a fench ’cross de road, ’tell de road couldn’ specify. Now, w’en Sunday night come, Sambo tek ’e lady een ’e oxin cyaa’t, en’ staa’t lukkuh him duh gwine chu’ch, but ’e nebbuh git to chu’ch, suh, ’cause ’e oxin ent gots good eye duh night time, en’ de oxin git tanglety’up een de fench, befo’ Sambo ruckuhnize weh ’e duh gwine, en’ de oxin t’row Sambo’ lady out’n de cyaa’t, en’ de lady fuhgit de ’lij’un w’at ’e staa’t fuh tek to chu’ch, en’ ’e git bex, en’ Sambo git bex, en, fin’lly at las’, dem didn’ gone chu’ch, but dem tu’n back home, en’ nex’ mawnin’ Sambo gone to de Trial Jestuss en’ swayre out warrant fuh ’res’ me en’ my groun’ fuh twis’up en’ obstruck de pulblic highway, en’ de Jestuss sen’ a mufflejaw’ nigguh counstubble to my house, en’ him tek me off befo’ I gitt’uh chance eb’nso fuh pit on me shoesh, en’ I tell’um dat ’e yent deestunt, no, suh, fuh ’res’ a lady en’ tek’um to co’t, bidout ’e shoesh ’puntop ’e foot, but dat counstubble raise’ by po’ buckruh en’ ’e yent gots uh Chryce’ mannus to ’e name!”

“Well,” said the attorney, when he had stemmed this torrent of speech, “did you tell him that you were not ready for trial; that you wished time to secure counsel and to summon witnesses to testify in your behalf?”

“I _baig’um_, I tell’um, ‘Mistuh Awkuhmun, I want to quizzit you on dis p’int, how de debble you kin ’res’ a lady fuh obstruck uh highway, w’en you know berrywell de road w’ich de nigguh’ mek t’ru my lan’, run t’ru _low groun’_! How, een de name uh Gawd, kin I eentuhfayre wid de pulblic _highway_ w’en de road so _low_ dat ’e full uh watuh ’tell limus cootuh en’ t’ing duh swim een’um! No, suh! ’scusin’ you kin ansuh me dat parable, yo’ eenditement cyan’ specify’.”

“What was his reply,” asked the lawyer.

“’E didn’ reply _nutt’n’_, suh. ’E jis’ tell me I gots fuh specify wid nine dolluh’ en’ de cawss’, ’scusin’ I want’uh leddown een Walterburruh jail ontell de t’ree Sat’d’y een June. I didn’ gots no money fuh g’em, so I g’em mawgidge on my cow en’ t’ing ’tell I kin come yuh to you, suh, en’ git you fuh see me t’ru, ’cause dis ondelicate buckruh ’res’ me’, en’ try me en’ all, een one en’ de same day. ’E wouldn’ eb’n gimme time fuh go home en’ reconstruck meself, en’, please suh, Majuh, w’en my juntlemun dead, ’e tell me fuh fin’ out w’at you will chaa’ge me fuh tek care uh me en’ my cow en’ my groun’ en’ t’ing by de yeah--eb’n so ef I duh sleep--I want you fuh see how much you will chaa’ge fuh keep nigguh, en’ counstubble, en’ po’buckruh en’ all kind’uh waa’ment en’ t’ing off my groun’, ’tell I _dead_, suh.”

The lawyer told her he would consider the matter, and, Ashepoo’s “Nada, the Lily,” with a curtsy to the stranger within the attorney’s gate, drifted out into the brilliant sunlight that lay like a golden mantle on field and woodland.

OLD WINE--NEW BOTTLES

He lived in Spartanburg, and was the proud valet (pronounced “valley” in the up-country) of a young physician. Whether the charcoal hue of his face, or his employer’s profession, prompted a clever woman to bestow upon him the appellation of “the valley of the shadow of death,” I do not know, but it certainly seemed, to every one acquainted with him, a peculiarly appropriate “eentitle_ment_.”

Whence he came was a mystery. He tramped into the town one day, with his kinky wool full of the red dust of the up-country roads and his mouth full of the Gullah dialect of the coast, and asked for work. Although not more than thirteen years of age, his hardened muscles and pinched face indicated that he had known both toil and starvation. “Gran’puh lick me en’ I run’way en’ lef’um,” was all he said, and, as he proved industrious and reasonably honest, there was no further inquiry into his antecedents.

One day, soon after he had established himself in his Spartanburg sanctuary, I chanced, while on a visit to the low-country, to learn something of his history. Passing through a plantation, formerly the home of a distinguished South Carolina family, but now abandoned to the occupancy of a few negro squatters, whose slovenly agricultural methods extracted but a scanty subsistence from the naturally fertile soil, I came to a miserable cabin, half a mile away from the main settlement. On its site had once stood a comfortable frame house of the type in general use on Southern plantations for ante-bellum negro quarters, but the woodwork had long since been destroyed by fire, and the brick chimney alone remained. Among the negroes of the coast, where brick are scarce and the cabin chimneys are generally made of clay or mud, the possession of a brick “chimbly” is a sort of badge of aristocracy and a passport to high position in colored society, and old Scipio Smashum, having been a house servant before the war, and, retaining through all the hardships that had come to him with freedom, a profound contempt for the coarser-fibred “field hands,” preferred to live apart from them, and had reared around the isolated brick chimney a habitation which, even when new, was never weatherproof, and was now in a pitiable state of dilapidation.

From the pine saplings, of which the walls were constructed, the rotting bark had fallen away, disclosing the perforations of the wood borers or “sawyers,” whose industry had almost honey-combed the sappy logs. The clapboards which covered the house were falling to pieces with decay, and here and there on the weather-worn roof lay, like oases in a desert of gray, patches of green mould.

The surroundings of the cabin were as unkempt and unattractive as the building itself. Dogfennel and “Jimpson” weed grew almost up to the threshold. A few rows of corn and beans in a garden nearby were choked with grass and had been abandoned soon after the plants were up. The “wattled” fence of clapboards surrounding it was tumbling down, and through the fallen panels the neighbors’ cows and pigs roamed at will. On the top of a little log chicken coop, a young Dominique rooster cackled loudly while he awaited the coming of his partner, who was, at the moment, busied with domestic duties within.

On a bench near the door sat old Scipio. The wool which covered his head was as white as the back of a Cotswold sheep, and the face, in which his bleared and jaundiced eyes were deeply set, was seamed with care.

As I approached, he was upbraiding the boastful rooster. “You so ’laagin’. Soon ez yo’ lady git on ’e nes’ you biggin fuh cackle same lukkuh _you_ duh specify, ’stead’uh _him_. You stan’ dey wid yo’ back speckle’ lukkuh one dese red-head’ woodpeckuh’, en’ t’ink you gots mo’ eentruss’ een dat aig den de hen ’eself.--Mawnin’, maussuh, t’engk _Gawd_ I see you teday. De time so berry haa’d, maussuh; ef you didn’ bin come soon, I ’spec’ you wouldn’ uh fine’ yo’ ole nigguh yuh teday. I mos’ t’ink de big Maussuh gwine to call me putty soon, ’cause de mis’ry een de back git mo’ wuss den ’e nyuse to be, en’ bittle git so sca’ceful dese day’, en’ I cyan’ hol’ de hoe like I could’uh do one time, en’ I cyan’ git no cow, needuhso no mule, fuh plow de groun’, ’tell I cyan’ raise no crop, en’ eb’nso w’en de crop done plant, I yent gots no chillun en’ t’ing’ fuh keep de waa’_ment_ out’n’um, en’ I mos’ t’ink ef you didn’ come teday, _Stepney_ would’uh git dis po’ ole body. Trouble come sence you bin yuh las’, sho’ ez Gawd! Dat boy Joe run’way en’ gone to de up-country jis’ ’cause I lick’um, en’ soon as _him_ gone, old Sancho Haywu’d’ lady dead, en’ Sancho come en’ tek’way my gran’daa’tuh ’Riah, en’ tek’um home fuh wife. I t’aw’t dat ole nigguh had mo’ sense, but w’en I peruse ’e cyarrictuh close, I see ’e cyan’ specify ez uh sensubble man.”

“When did his wife die?” I asked.

“’E dead een Fibbywerry, suh. ’E binnuh cook supper, en’ ’e gone to de shelf fuh git salt fuh pit een de hom’ny, en’ ebbuh sence ’e gots catt’rack’ een ’e yeye ’e cyan’ see berry well, en’ ’stead’uh tek de can wid de salt, ’e tek de can wid de consecrate’ lye, en’ ’e pit de consecrate’ lye een de hom’ny, en’ fus’ t’ing ’e know, ’e yent know _nutt’n’_ ’cause ’e dead! Oh yaas’suh, ’e git relij’un jis’ befo’ ’e dead, en’ ’e dead beautiful, yaas’ suh, en’ ’e had de biggis’ fun’rul you ebbuh see, en’ ole Pa Sancho pit ’e lady een de groun’ lukkuh teday, en’, please Gawd, ez ’e gwine home frum de fun’rul dat same berry day, ’e come by my house en’ tek my gran’ ’Riah en’ tek she home fuh wife! Ef I had’uh bin home, I wouldn’uh let’um tek de gal befo’ de munt’ done out, ’e would’uh look mo’ _deestunt_, yaas’suh. But I don’ min’ ’bout Sancho, ’cause dat gal gwine to mek’um t’ink t’unduhsnake got’um befo’ dis yeah gone, yaas’suh. I tell’um, ‘Sancho, you better min’! Tek care bettuh mo’nuh baig paa’d’n[4], en’ Paul’ wu’d to Buhrabbus een de Scriptuh specify puhtickluh dat you cyan’ pit uh nyung grapewine een uh ole killybash, en’ you cyan’ pit a nyung ’ooman een uh ole ’ooman’ frock, ’cause dem alltwo will buss’. Sancho, you know berry well you cyan’ specify, en’ you ent gots de strengk fuh lick dat nyung ’ooman, en’ likeso Buhrabbus say dat ef you don’ lick yo’ lady you will spile ’e chile,’ but I sway-to-Gawd, suh, dat gal tu’n Pa Sancho staa’t fool, en’ ’e nebbuh had my exwice een de back’uh ’e head! En’ now, maussuh, sence de gal gone, I ent gots nobody fuh do nutt’n’ fuh me. Dese nigguh’ w’at grow up sence freedom come een ent gots no mannus, en’ dey would’uh lemme dead een dis house, ef de w’ite people didn’ see me t’ru. W’en ole Missis binnuh lib, bress Gawd, ’e always ’membuh de ole nigguh, but now, sence him dead en’ de grass duh grow obuh ’e grabe out yonduh onduhneet’ de libe-oak tree, en’ all de w’ite people w’at I raise lef’ de ole plantesshun en’ scattuh all obuh de wull’, en’ all kind’uh low-down buckruh, w’at couldn’ ’sociate wid we w’ite people’ fambly een ole time’, come fuh lib on de place, please Gawd, I yent gots nutt’n’ much fuh lib fuh now, dese days. T’engk you, nyung maussuh, t’engk you, suh, Gawd bress you!”

A GULLAH GLOSSARY

The Glossary included in this volume, while making no pretense to absolute accuracy, is offered as a workable list of the words in common use by the Negroes of the South Carolina coast. It is doubtful, however, if the vocabulary of any single individual comprises more than half the list, for many words in everyday use about Georgetown or Charleston occur rarely at Beaufort, or on the Combahee. Then, too, many terms and expressions have only a local significance. On the seacoast and along the lower reaches of the tidal rivers, “trus’-me-Gawd” (I trust my God) is the common name for the cranky, unseaworthy dugout canoe, the hazard of whose use on the rough waters of the coast implies faith in the watchful care of a divine Providence. Higher up the same river, however, where smoother waters exact smaller faith, the coffin-like craft is merely a “coo-noo,” a “cun-noo,” or a “con-noo.”

He who adventures into Gullah and would “make head or tail” of its queer phonetics, must keep in mind the sounds “uh,” “e,” “ran,” and “a.” In no other tongue, perhaps, can so much be expressed with so little strain upon brain or lips or glottis as by the Gullah’s laconic use of these grunting jungle-sounds.

To the Gullah, the naked “a” at the top of the first column of the dictionary is “uh,” the dominant note upon which his speech is pitched. With “uh” he boastfully proclaims the personal pronoun “I.” As “bubbuh,” or “budduh,” or “buh,” he greets his brethren; as “sistuh,” or “tittuh,” his sisters. Sweet potatoes he roasts and eats as “tettuh.” His father, mother, daughter, are “farruh, murruh, daa’tuh;” his ever is “ebbuh,” his never is “nebbuh;” forever, “fuhrebbuh.” His answer is “ansuh,” his master is “mastuh,” his pastor is “pastuh” (and so is his pasture); his either is “eeduh,” his neither is “needuh,” his fever is “febuh,” his river is “ribbuh,” his cooter is “cootuh,” his silver is “silbuh.” If in daylight he falls asleep in an open place, the vulture’s wing that hovers over him will cast a “shadduh.” His neighbor is “navuh,” his favor is “fabuh,” his labor is “lavuh,” his Savior is “Sabeyuh.” His bother is “bodduh,” his other is “odduh,” his t’other is “todduh;” another, “anodduh.” Otter is “ottuh,” and ’gator is “’gatuh;” better, “mo’bettuh,” and alligator, “alligettuh.” Barrow is “barruh,” burrow is “burruh,” furrow is “furruh,” harrow is “harruh,” borrow is “borruh;” tomorrow, “tomorruh.” His mourner is “mo’nuh,” and so is his more than (more nor) and corner is “cawnuh,” “mauma” is “maumuh,” “maussa” is “maussuh,” cover is “kibbuh;” uncover, “onkibbuh,” the white man is “buckruh,” the Negro is “Nigguh.” And finger is “finguh,” as ginger is “ginjuh.” Pshaw is “shuh,” and sir is “suh.” His feather is “fedduh,” his weather is “wedduh,” his measure is “medjuh,” his pleasure is “pledjuh.” And if, in pleasantry or wrath, he cries out upon a compatriot, he scornfully apostrophizes him as “uh Gulluh nigguh!”

Following “uh” in frequency of occurrence comes “’e,” a contraction of he, she (but used also for it)--usually pronounced as “ee” in see, but sometimes approaching “e” in set and “i” in sit; but, without the use of diacritical marks, the exact shading cannot be expressed. This “’e” is ever in the Gullah mouth. If a man has shuffled off this mortal coil, “’e dead;” if a fruitful woman has blessed the earth, “’e hab chile;” if the dusky infant cries out upon the world, “’e cry;” if a mule be too free with her hindlegs, “’e kick.” If winter comes, “’e freeze,” and in summer weather “’e hot.” If a storm approaches, “’e gwine to wedduh;” when it breaks, “’e t’unduh, ’e lightnin’, ’e blow win’, ’e rain.”

In “Myths of the Georgia Coast,” Colonel Jones’s Gullahs pronounce this contraction “eh,” but with this a clearer phonetic apprehension of the Gullah does not permit agreement. “Eh” is a good English word which the Gullah pronounces correctly and frequently utters in the ejaculation “eh, eh!” to express surprise or bewilderment.

Almost the twin of “’e” is “um,” expressing him, her, it and them. Did that man steal your pig? “’E t’ief’um.” Did the woman whip the boy? “’E lick’um.” Did the fire burn your house? “’E bu’n’um.” Have you finished your task? “Uh done’um.” Did you shoot those crows? “Uh shoot’um.” And “um” added to see or saw becomes “shum.” See that woman? “Uh shum.” Did you see her yesterday? “Uh shum.” Will you see her tomorrow? “Uh gwine shum.” “Shum” expresses see, seeing, or saw him, her, it, or them.

If the Gullah Negro, in “fuh him” and “fuh she,” changes the pronoun to “um,” he adds an “r” for euphony and utters a rolling “fuhr’um;” and, similarly, “tuh him,” “tuh she” are changed to “tuhr’um.”

The Gullah’s favorite pronunciation of our first vowel is that of “a” in at, hat, bat--words that, like all others having the same “a” sound, he invariably pronounces correctly. Drawled to the double “a” as in “baa,” it does yeoman service in “paat’,” path; “paa’t,” part; “smaa’t,” smart; “cyaa’t,” cart; “h’aa’t,” heart; “shaa’p,” sharp; “baa’n,” barn; “yaa’d,” yard; “maamy,” mother; “maa’k,” mark; “staa’t,” start; and so in many other words.

In the Gullah there are many contradictions, the Negro sometimes taking surprisingly short-cuts, expressing himself succinctly and saying a great deal with but a mouthful of words; while at others he rambles interminably and wanders so far afield in his verbal intoxication that he can hardly come soberly again to his starting point.

In this tongue one word or combination of words frequently does duty for singular and plural numbers, past and present tenses, and for masculine, feminine, and neuter genders. Thus “Uh shum” may mean I saw him, I see him, I saw her, I see her, I saw it, I see it, I saw them, I see them. So “Uh tell’um” means I told or I tell him, her, or them. Oxen and bulls, as well as cows, are generally classified and denominated as “cow,” oxen as “ox,” “two ox,” “ten ox,” etc., while a single ox, if not called a “cow,” is invariably “one oxin.” “’Ooman” is both woman and women; “man” stands also for men, although “mens” is sometimes used for the plural, as “t’ree man,” or “fo’ mens.”

Many words the Gullahs pronounce correctly. These are here spelled in the normal way, as to respell them would result only in a useless mutilation of the text.

Very often the Gullah usage consists in new and peculiar applications of words, twisted to meet its own needs, and making a single vocable serve the purpose of many.

With a single “knock,” the Gullah knocks, has knocked, is knocking.

With but a “rock,” he rocks, has rocked, is rocking.

With “fight,” he fights, has fought, is fighting.

With “run,” he runs, has run, is running; and so on with many other words, used to express singular and plural numbers, or all the simple tenses of the verb.

While the Gullah usually holds fast to his favorite pronunciation, he sometimes permits himself a grotesque variation. For example, his usual pronunciation of car is “cyaa’,” which he utters as flatly as a Charlestonian of the Battery; but should he permit himself a “cyaar,” he will roll you an “r” as raucously as any Ohioan.

Of course, all Gullah Negroes pronounce certain English words correctly, while others approximate, in varying degrees, the speech of their former masters. This fact accounts for the slight variations that will be noticed in the speech of different individuals in these stories, and in the several pronunciations sometimes occurring in the Glossary. For example, the Gullah word for you, ye, your, yours, is variously pronounced “ona, oona, oonuh, unnuh,” and, among dyed-in-the-wool dialecticians, “yunnuh” and “wunnuh.” So, the Orang-utan is called by some “’Rangatang” and by the extremists “’Ranguhtang.”

Warm is “wawm;” form or inform, “fawm,” “eenfawm;” morning is “mawnin’;” corn, “cawn;” horse or horses, “hawss;” horn, “hawn;” born, “bawn;” cow is correctly pronounced, and calf is near enough to the Charleston usage to pass. Tore, torn, tears, and tearing are never used, tear taking the place of all. As: the girl tore her petticoat--“De gal tayre ’e ’coat.” That man’s shirt is torn--“Da’ man’ shu’t tayre.” This cloth tears badly--“Dis clawt’ tayre bad.” They are tearing off the boards--“Dem duh (does) tayre off de boa’d’.”

Them (“dem”) is universally used for they and their. They took off their shoes--“Dem tek off dem shoesh.” Dog and hog, while sometimes drawled, are very rarely lengthened to “dawg” and “hawg,” tho’ God is almost invariably “Gawd.” The contraction of your is “yo’;” and yet, for yours, instead of “yo’n”--the mountaineers’ “yourn”--they prefer “you’own,” as theirs or their own is always “dem’own.”

Unlike Mr. Weller, the Gullah does not affect the letter V, which he always changes to W or B--Violet modestly shrinking to Wi’let or Bi’let, while, as Benus, the amorous Aphrodite doubtless loves quite as ardently in her humble way. And the soft and teasing vex suggests, as “bex,” anger swift and passionate!

“Lukkuh,” or “same lukkuh,” a corruption of like unto or same like unto--“same lukkuh” occasionally shortened into “sukkuh” by an excited or rapid talker--express likeness, resemblance.

“Hukkuh” is, of course, how come, or how came.

“’E fat” means that the man, the woman, the pig, or the lightwood, is or was fat. “’E fat fuh true” (in truth) adds emphasis, while “’E fat fuh sowl” brooks no contradiction.

“’Puntop,” sometimes “’puntap,” or “’pantap,” on or near Edisto Island, means not only on top and on, but at. As: “De squinch owl light ’puntop de chimbly;” “Him plant’ ’puntop Cumbee ribbuh;” “W’en uh look ’puntop de ’ooman en’ see ’e yeye red, uh know him bex.” “Biggin” is equivalent to begin, began, begun, or beginning.

“Haffuh” is both have to and had to. “W’en de strain leff’um to John’ Ilun’, him haffuh tek him foot en’ gone _spang_ town,” meaning when she missed the train at John’s Island station she had to walk all the way to Charleston.

“Same fashi’n,” expressing likeness, has no sartorial significance.

“Alltwo” may mean both or each; as: “alligettuh en’ cootuh alltwo stan’ same fashi’n, alltwo hab fo’ foot en’ one tail, en’ alltwo trabble ’puntop dem belly.” So “stan’ lukkuh” and “stan’ sukkuh” mean look alike or bear a close resemblance, whether standing, sitting, crawling, lying, flying, or swimming.

“Wuffuh,” or “woffuh,” means why, or what for.

At times, “duh” and “suh” (not the “suh” for sir) have peculiar usage. “Wuffuh you duh do dat?” What for, or why are you doing that? “Him gone duh ribbuh,” he has gone to the river. “Him walk duh paat’,” he walks in the path (or the road). So, too, “’e duh sleep” for he does sleep, or he sleeps; and “duh wintuh time” for in the winter or during the winter. “Nuh” is another oddity, “me nuh him” being he and I.

Many years ago, the Reverend Kinlaw, upon hearing an educated darkey reading aloud one of the Kinlaw sermons from a newspaper, exclaimed: “Uh ’cla’ to Gawd da’ buckruh do me too bad! Dem t’ing suh him suh suh me susso, me nubbuh susso. Me t’ink’um, aw, but uh nubbuh susso, en’ how de debble him know suh me t’ink’um, w’en uh nubbuh susso?” Which, interpreted, means: “I declare that buckra did me too bad. Those things that he said I said, I never said so. I thought them, it is true, but I never said them, and how did he know that I thought them, when I never said them?” Kinlaw was an extremely uncouth creature and his Gullah was of the rankest, spoken with the hot-potato-in-the-mouth effect of the low-comedy stage Irishman, hence his use of “suh” for that as well as for said, and of “nubbuh” for never, instead of the usual “nebbuh.”

“Aw,” for true, or to be sure, is seldom used.

“Ki,” rarely “kwi,” or “kwoy,” is an exclamation.

“Nyam,” or “nyam-nyam,” means to eat.

“Bittle,” is, of course, victuals--food.

“Blan,” pronounced with the nasal resonance of the French “blanc,” but without the broad “a” sound, or as the French would pronounce “blin,” is probably a corruption of belong, and means used to or accustomed to.

“Study” means to think, ponder, plan.

The Gullah, like the Queen of Spain, has no legs, “foot” serving for the lower limbs as well as for their extremities. “Deer hab long foot, him run fas’;” “Cootuh hab shawt foot, him trabble slow.”

“Yez” is ear or ears, and “yeddy,” sometimes “yerry,” is hear, or hearing, heard; while “haa’kee” (hark ye) is also hear, and so on, whether addressed to one or to more persons, and is used not only in admonition, as “haa’kee at me good fashi’n,” but is sometimes spoken lightly, as certain modern flappers and their bifurcated companions say “listen!” “Haa’kee” also does duty interchangeably for “yeddy,” as “haa’kee att’um,” “yeddy’um”--hearken to him! hear him! And one who holds a warning as of small account, will often say in response to an admonitory “haa’kee!” “Yaas, bubbuh, uh haa’kee, but uh yent yeddy”--literally, I hearken but I don’t hear, while actually meaning I hear but I don’t heed, going in one ear and coming out of the other.

“’Nuf” means not only enough, sufficiency, but more often abundance. Thus “you hab enny mint?” “Yaas, suh, we hab ’nuf,” carries assurance of not merely enough for a few juleps, but a patch of fragrant greenery that could cover the graves of a score of old-school Virginians!

“Specify,” one of the most characteristic Gullah words, from the English “specify,” serves for most of the varied meanings of “specifications”--“making good.” If a woman proves an unsuitable mate, she “cyan’ specify.” If trousers are frail, and “de britchiz buss’,” “’e yent specify.” If a “cunnoo” proves unseaworthy--“him cyan’ specify.” And even of a Bible text, the fulfilment of whose promise seems inadequate, the Gullah says: “Buhrabbus’ wu’d, him ent specify berry well.”

“Enty,” “ent,” “yent,” sometimes “ain’,” serve for isn’t, aren’t, didn’t, don’t, doesn’t. “Ent you shum?” “enty you shum?” may mean didn’t you see? or don’t you see? him, her, it, or them.

Preceded by a soft vowel sound, “iz” and “ent” are changed to “yiz” and “yent;” as: “him iz,” “him ent,” become, by the substitution of “’e” for him, “’e yiz,” “’e yent.

“’Cep’n’” is except or excepting, and so is “’scusin’” or “excusin’.”

There is no nephew in the Gullah vocabulary, “niece” being used instead.

“Wunnuh,” “yunnuh,” “oonuh,” “unnuh,” occasionally “hoonuh,” probably from one and another, is used for you and ye, usually in addressing more than one, though sometimes also in the singular.

Except along the Georgia and Carolina seacoast and the outlying islands, the older Negroes are almost invariably addressed as “uncle” and “auntie” by the whites of all ages, and by the younger Negroes, but, wherever the Gullah dialect predominates, “daddy” and “mauma” take their places. For that reason, perhaps, white children in the low-country never call their fathers “daddy,” pa or papa frequently taking the place of the more formal “father.”

Where the name of the person addressed or spoken of is used, “mauma” is changed to “maum,” as “Maum Kate.”

The simple name of the month is seldom sufficient, but must be fortified by the addition of “munt’,” as: “Uh hab da’ gal een June munt’.”

Second, third, etc., are seldom used, the preferred forms being “two-time,” “t’ree-time,” etc. “Uh done tell oonuh fuh de two-time fuh lef’ da’ gal ’lone”--I’ve told you for the second time to leave that girl alone; and “two-time” is invariably used for twice. “Uh done call you two-time”--I’ve called you twice. The third Tuesday in August would be “De t’ree Chuesday een Augus’.”

“Onrabble ’e mout’”--unravel her mouth, for it’s always a feminine skein that’s to be unwound--is as comprehensive as it is picturesque. At times the verbal tide flows on unchecked from a full ball of yarn; again, the ravelings are pulled angrily, jerkily, from the warp of a threadbare subject. “Onrabble ’e mout’!”

“Lef’”--left--is given not only its own proper meaning, but serves for leave, leaving, as “loss” does extra duty for lose, losing, lost.

“She-she talk”--a contemptuous characterization by Gullah bucks of feminine gossip--is suggestive of the whispering _frou-frou_ of silken petticoats.

“En’ t’ing’”--and things--is a verbal grab-bag comprehensive enough to hold every etcetera, animate or inanimate, that one may lay tongue to. A woman’s “chillun en’ t’ing’” may cover her chickens as well as her children; her “husbun’ en’ t’ing’” may include also her gentlemen friends, while reference to King Solomon’s “wife en’ t’ing’” would assuredly have lumped in with his wives every petticoat on the “Proverbial” premises!

The Gullah contraction of defend, is “’fen’,” yet, if that defense be inadequate, he will invariably “refen’” himself. If he anoint, ’tis “’n’int,” yet his pastor is the Lord’s “renointed.”

As the Gullah’s tongue has no trouble with “eart’”--his correctly pronounced contraction of “earth”--he should have no difficulty with dirt or shirt, but these are invariably pronounced “du’t” and “shu’t;” and, although the “uh” sound is so easily uttered, he always “shets” a door, and tries to “shet,” but never shuts, his lady’s mouth.

Among the Negroes on Pon Pon, Stepney--a man’s name--is commonly used as a synonym for hunger, want. He who hoped to keep the wolf away would “haffuh wu’k haa’d fuh keep Stepney frum de do’,” while the fabled ant would admonish _La Cigale_, the grasshopper, “tek care, gal, you duh sing duh summuhtime, tek care Stepney don’ come een yo’ house ’fo’ wintuhtime!”

There are, of course, many variations, some Negroes using only a few Gullah words, while practically all the house servants spoke without a taint. During the Confederate War, Phyllis, a highly trained young maid who had been taught deportment under Maum Bella, a fine old family servant in Charleston, once “impeached” the language of the five-year old boy under her charge. “Mass----, you shouldn’t say path, you should say parth.” How a broad “a” got loose in Charleston one can’t imagine, unless it came in with the buxom Virginia girls who periodically descended upon “the City” to marry her most eligible young men.

The Gullah grabs his prophets, his kings, and his apostles out of the Old and New Testaments, haphazard, and uses them as they come, “to point a moral or adorn a tale”--and he believes in elaborate adornment.

Himself unlettered, he catches the names as they come to his ears from the lips of the whites, or of educated Negroes, and frequently gets his personnel inextricably mixed, the mouth-filling “Nickuhdemus” being quite as frequently turned out to graze, “bite grass,” as the esteemed “Nebuhkuhnezzuh.” The Apostle Paul is most often quoted by the class-leaders and local preachers, but they love to mouth over “Buhrabbus,” while entirely ignorant of the character.

What Old Testament book can it be that the Gullah calls “Rebus?” Perhaps some Bible student will hazard a guess. It may be a far-fetched corruption of Genesis, for, in giving assurance of his having pursued a subject or an investigation from beginning to end, he will often say: “Uh bin t’ru da’ t’ing frum Rebus _spang_ to Rebelashun!”

Edisto Island was, before the war, through the fine Sea Island cotton produced there, one of the garden spots of the earth, and has been for many generations noted for the hospitality, culture, and refinement of its families; but in old times it was also noted for an unusual provincialism and for the habitual use of Gullah dialect by many of the planters’ young sons. These were in constant association with their slaves on hunting and fishing parties, and unconsciously adopted the highly picturesque and expressive speech of their black servitors. They were accordingly subjected to many hard stories by their neighbors on the main land, who declared that, when the tardy news of Napoleon’s exile to St. Helena, one hundred years ago, reached Edisto, the young islanders, believing their neighboring island of St. Helena to be the place of safekeeping, were apprehensive of another “return from Elba,” and, fearing the great Corsican as a potential liberator of their precious slaves, held an indignation meeting and resolved that: “Ef dem buckruh’ ’pantap Sa’leenuh choose fuh hab ’Poleon come ’pantap _dem_ ilun’, berry well, but, uh sway-to-Gawd, him cyan’ come ’pantap _dis_ ilun’, ’cause dat duh dainjus buckruh, en’, fus’ t’ing wunnuh know, him set we Nigguh’ free.”

The Edisto marshes abounded in wild donkeys, and a favorite Sunday amusement used to be the chevying of these unhappy animals out of the marshes by the white and black boys who, using sections of jackvine for whips, chased them over the plantations. A story is told of a young Edisto Islander who, a few days after matriculation at the University of Virginia, was requested by his fellow students to tell them something about the favorite sports and amusements of the South Carolina coast. He enlightened them as follows: “Great King wunnuh boy! Me nuh Cudjo blan hab fun duh Sunday. Cudjo him ketch long tail’ hawss, me ketch shawt tail’ hawss; we tek dem jack-wine, run dem jackass out’uh maa’sh, run’um all obuh plantesshun; den we blan go duh crik, ketch dem _big_ pap-eye mullet!”

VOCABULARY

The following list contains some seventeen hundred words. About this vocabulary two things are to be noted:

First, the Gullah is entirely a spoken, never a written, language;

Second, these 1,700 and odd words are so extended and applied according to Gullah usage as to serve the purpose and scope of at least 5,000 English words.

A

AA’GYFY--argue, argues, argued, arguing.

AA’GYMENT--argument, arguments.

AA’M--arm, arms.

AA’MY--army, armies.

ABBUHTIZE--advertise, advertises, advertised, advertising.

AB’NUE--avenue, avenues.

ACKSIDENT--accident, accidents.

ACQUAINTUN--acquainted. (See “’quaintun”).

ADSWOCATE--advocate, advocates, advocated, advocating.

AFF’IKIN--African, Africans.

AFF’IKY--Africa.

AFO’SED--aforesaid.

AGGUHNIZE--agonize, agonizes, agonized, agonizing.

AIG--(n. and v.) egg, eggs, egged, egging; as “him aig’um on.”

AIGE--(n. and v.) edge, edges, edged, edging.

AIN’--(ain’t) is not, isn’t. (See “ent” and “yent”).

AINJUL--angel, angels.

ALLDO’--although. (See “’do’”).

ALLIGETTUH--alligator, alligators. (See “’gatuh”).

ALLIMUNNY--alimony.

ALLTIME--all the time, always.

ALLTWO--both, also each.

ALL UB UH SUDD’N/ALL UB UH SUDD’NT/ALL UB UH
SUTT’N--all of a sudden, suddenly.

AMBRELLUH--umbrella, umbrellas.

ANNIMEL--animal, animals.

ANODDUH/ANUDDUH--another.

ANSUH--answer, answers, answered, answering. Also used
for message, especially for one requiring an answer;
as: “Uh sen’ uh ansuh to de gal fuh tell’um uh
wan’ hab’um fuh wife”--I sent a message to the
girl to tell her that I wanted to marry her.

AP’UN--apron, aprons.

AREY/ARUH--each, either.

ASHISH--ashes.

ATTACKTID--attacked. (See “’tack’” and “’tacktid”).

ATTUH--after.

ATTUHR’UM--after him, her, it, them.

ATTUHW’ILE--after a while.

AUGUS’--August.

AW--a queer word, sometimes used instead of “fuh true;”
meaning, it is true, in truth.

AWKUHMUN--Ackerman--name of a white family.

AX--ask, asks, asked, asking.

AXIL--axle, axles.

AX’ME--ask, asks, asked, asking me.

AX’UM--ask or asked him, her, it, them.

B

BAA’BUH--barber, barbers.

BAA’K--(n. and v.) bark, barks, barked, barking.

BAA’NWELL--Barnwell. A low-country family name.

BAA’NYAA’D/BA’NYAA’D--barnyard, barnyards.

BACTIZE--baptize, baptizes, baptized, baptizing.

BAD MOUT’--bad mouth--a spell, a form of curse.

BAID--beard, beards.

BAIG--beg, begs, begged, begging.

BAIG’UM--beg, begs, begged, begging him, her, it, them.

BAIT’UM--bait, baits, baited, baiting him, her, it, them.

BAKIN--bacon.

BALMUHRAL SKU’T--Balmoral skirt--a dark worsted underskirt
with red stripes above the hem, of the time of
Queen Victoria and named for her castle at Balmoral.

’BANDUN--abandon, abandons, abandoned, abandoning.

BAPTIS’--Baptist, Baptists.

BARRIL--barrel, barrels.

BARRUH--barrow, a bacon hog.

BAWN--born.

BAYRE--bare, bares, bared, baring.

BEABUH--beaver, beavers.

BEAGLE--fox hound, fox hounds.

BEDOUT/BIDOUT--without, unless, except.

BEEBU’D--bee-martin, king bird or Tyrannus Tyrannus.

BEEFU’T--Beaufort.

BEEHIBE--beehive, beehives.

BEFO’--before; as: “Befo’ de wah.” (See “’fo’”).

BEFO’ DAY--before day. (See “crack-uh-day,” and “’fo’ day”).

BEHABE--behave, behaves, behaved, behaving.

BEHIME/BEHIN’/BEHINE--behind.

BEKASE/BEKASEW’Y--because, because why.

BEHOL’--behold, beholds, beheld, beholding.

BELLUH--bellow, bellows, bellowed, bellowing.

BELLUS--bellows (blacksmith’s).

BEMEAN--to be mean to any one, to slander, abuse.

BEN’--bend, bends, bent, bending.

BENUS--(sometimes “Wenus”)--Venus.

BERRY--(sometimes “werry”)--very.

BERRYWELL--very well.

BERRYWELLDEN--very well then.

BES’--best.

BETTUH--better.

BEX--vex, vexes, vexing; angry, anger, angers, angered,
angering.

BIDNESS--business.

BIGGIN--begin, begins, begun, began.

BIGGUH--bigger.

BIGHOUSE--the Master’s house.

BILE--boil, boils, boiled, boiling.

BILIN’--boiling.

BILLIGE/BILLAGE--village, villages.

BIMEBYE/BUMBYE--bye and bye.

BIN--been, was.

BINNUH--been, was, was a; as: “W’en uh binnuh boy”--when
I was a boy.

BITTLE--victuals, food.

BLACKBU’D--blackbird, blackbirds.

BLAN--belong, belongs, belonged, belonging; used redundantly;
as: “Da’ gal him blan blonx to my Maussuh”--That
girl she belonged to belong, or used to
belong, to my Master.

B’LEEBE--believe, believes, believed, believing.

’BLEEGE--oblige, obliges, obliged, obliging.

BLINE--(n. and v.) blind, blinds, blinded, blinding.

BLINE GAWD--blind God--personal idol or fetish of African
suggestiveness whose aid is invoked to further the
desires of its owner.

B’LONG/BLONX--belong, belongs, belonged, belonging.

BLOODYNOUN--the great bullfrog of the swamps.

BOA’D--(n. and v.) board, boards, boarded, boarding.

BODDUH--bother, bothers, bothered, bothering; worry, worries,
worried, worrying.

BODDUHR’UM--bother, bothers, bothered, or bothering him,
her, it, them.

BOFE--both. (See “alltwo”).

BOL’--bold.

BORRUH--borrow, borrows, borrowed, borrowing.

BOUN’--bound, resolved upon.

’BOUT--about.

BOWRE--bore, bores, bored, boring.

BRAWTUS--broadus, lagniappe.

BREAS’--breast, breasts.

BREDDUH--(also brudduh) brother, brethren (formal).

BREKWUS’/BRUKWUS’--breakfast, breakfasts.

BRESH--brush, brushwood; brush, brushes, brushed, brushing.

BRESS--bless, blesses, blessed, blessing.

BRE’T’--breath.

BRIAH--briar, briars.

BRINLY--brindled.

BRITCHIN’--breeching (harness).

BRITCHIS/BRITCHIZ--breeches, trousers.

BRUK--break, breaks, broke, breaking, broken; “bruk-foot
man”--a broken-legged man.

BRUK-AA’M--broken-arm.

BRUK-FOOT--broken-foot, or leg.

BRUK’UP--break up, broke up, broken up: “De meetin’ done
bruk’up.”

BRURO--bureau, as “Freedmun’ bruro.”

BRUSTLE--bustle, bustles.

BUBBUH/BUDDUH--(familiar) brother.

BUCKRUH--a white person or persons; the white people.

BUCKRUH-BITTLE--white man’s food.

BUCKRUH-NIGGUH--white man’s Negro, used contemptuously.

BUCKSLEY--Berkeley (county).

BUD--bud, buds, budded, budding.

BU’D--bird, birds.

BU’DCAGE--birdcage, birdcages.

BUH--brother, as “Buh Rabbit.”

BUHHIME/BUHHINE--behind.

BUHR--burr, burrs.

BULL-YELLIN’--bull-yearling, or yearlings.

BU’N--burn, burns, burned, burning.

BURRUH--burrow, burrows, burrowed, burrowing.

BUSS’/BUS’--burst, bursts, bursting.

BUTT’N--button, buttons, buttoned, buttoning.

BUZZUM--bosom, bosoms.

BUZZUT--buzzard, buzzards; vulture, vultures.