Elizabeth Alexander
From:
Kentucky
DAVIES CO.
(Cecelia Laswell)
[Mrs. Elizabeth Alexander:]
The following is a very old Negro sermon I found in an old scrap book
dated 1839, belonging to Mrs. Elizabeth Alexander, Frederica St. She
says she has heard her family refer to parts of it at different time in
her early life and supposed that the negro preacher belonged to her
people. Quote: Mine deerly fren: Ub dar's wun ting wot de Lord
abominerates worser nor anudder; it is a wicked nigger! A wicked wite
man's bad snuff, dur Lord nose! but dey so dam wite, an so kussed sarcy,
day doun no no better, so dar's some appolleragee fur 'em; but I gin yer
for th noe as how, a wicked nigger can nibber scape frum de vengence ob
de Lord-day's no use playin possum any more dan day was ob Joner coorin
it into de wale's belly! (Glory from the congregation) Let um go to de
Norf Pole, or to de Souf Pole, to de West Pole, or to de East Pole, or
de Poles in any ob de words; he ant a bit safer den he would be in a
cellar at 5 pints, wid ole Hays arter him! (groans) Oh! niggers! I tink
I see you look round. Yer's better! Fer wot I tells yer's trufe! Gorda
mity's trufe! Werrily I say unter yer! Wen de court ob seshions ob de
las day cum, ye'll reckerlect wot I say at dis times! Wen yer hab de
Lord fer Recorder, an a jury ob angles, an Gabriel ter report der trial
fer de hebbenly "Herald" (deep groans) Yas! den yar'll turn up de wite
ob yer eyes! (Sighs) den ter'll call fer de rock ter cubber yer! An de
hill ter fall top o' yer. No yer don't. Kase, in de fus place day
woodn't do it; an in de libenth place, ub day would it would be no
better dan ridin in a cart in de big city or gettin under de butcher's
stall in de fly market; fer de Lord can move more mountins in wun
minite, dan de biggest nigger in dis congregation could shake a stick at
twixt now an next fort ob July (clapping of hands, sighs, groans and
grunts) Tink, yer black sinners ob de bottomless pit, deeper dan de hole
Holt bored fer water. Oh! yer'll wish yo cood bore fer wat-r dar! but
day's no water dar, an de deeper yer go, Oh, my bredren, de deeper it
git! An den de smell! Yer'll gib yer soul uv yer had any left, jist fur
wun smell ob a rotten egg! Oh, my deelee frens some ob yer hold yer nose
wen yer go by de gas works. How der yer spose yer'l feel dare yer smell
notin but brimstone an nashin ob teeth! (deep groans) Oh, I hear yer
groans, but I ant begin to cum ter worst yit. Oh! my toenail a'most
shake off in ma stockin wen I tink ob dat heat ob infernal regins! Den
yer tink melted led cold as de young gemmen at de big houses tink a miny
julip is now, an besid's my brederen it keeps a burnin nite on day to de
end ob ebrerlastin; yer needn't tink bimeby yer go from dare to hebben
like de Rummin Catlick--No, in de fust place yer don't; an in de second
if yer cood, yer'd git yer def of cole goin frum one place to tudder. An
now, my belobbed brederen, lets in terwestigate how tar git bale; how to
avoid de Sing Sing ob de world wot's got to cume. Fiddlin an dancin wont
do it. Yer'll neber git ter hebben by loafin, pitchin cents, an dancin
Juba! De only way is ter support de preacher, gib yer money ter me, and
I'll take yer sins on my shoulder. An now I beseech yer not ter leebe
dis here holy place an go round er corner, round er corner and fergit de
words yer have heered dis night. Next Wednesday ebenin dar will be a
sarbice in his place de Lord willin, but next Thursday ebenin weffer or
no. An now we will sing inti de 40-elebent him de particlarest meter.
Old Ebe he was de second man fur Adam was de fust----
A black man's made ob ebony, a white man's made o' dust.
Methuselah was the oldest man, but Sampson was the strongest----
Cats, rats, and puppies all hab tails, but monkies is der longest.
(While they were singing the 11th verse, I took my departure.--B.L.)
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Amelia Jones
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Mrs Duncan
