Part 5

“Brer Jasper got troubles ’bout de way young childun wuz got inter de church. He say ‘all yer got ter do is to pitty-pat em (making the motion in the pulpit with his hands) on dere haids and dey are in de kingdom. Sum uv yer duz the convertin’ of dese little uns instid er leavin’ it ter God ter do de work.’ He believed in regenerashum of folks. He preach’d ter de very last on being born agin, and he didn’t want nobody ter kum inter his church wat ain’t felt de power uv de sperrit in dere souls.

“But Brer Jasper wuz a mity luver uv de childun. He had a great way of stoppin’ and talkin’ ter dem on de street. He wuz a beautiful story-teller, and de childrun often flocked ter his house ter hear ’im tell nice stories and all kine uv good tales. He kept pennies in his pockets and often dropped ’em along for de chilrun--he had great ways,--til de chilrun ud think he wuz de greatest man dat ever put foot on de yearth.

“Brer Jasper wuz sosherbul wid everybody, and nobody cud beat him as a talker. He knew lots ’bout Richmond, and de ole times, and he had de grandest stories and jokes dat he luved ter tell and dat de folks went wild ter hear. He wuz great on jokes and cracked ’em in sech a funny way dat folks most killed de ’sefs laughin’. But yer mus’ kno’ dat he wuz mity keerful ’bout how he talked. Yer neer hear no bad words frum his mouth. His stories he could tell ennywhar, and wuz jes’ as nice ter de ladies as ter der men. He didn’t b’leve in no Sercities. Dey tried ter git ’im in de Masons, and I don’t kno’ wat all, but he ain’t tech none uv’em. He sez dar ain’t but one Grand Past Master and dat is King Jesus.

“Dey orf’n wanted ’im at de big public suppers war dey et an’ drank an’ made speeches, but he wouldn’t go near; and den our high people had der big suppers in dere houses and wanted de ’onur uv entertainin’ Brer Jasper, but he didn’t hanker arter dose kind uv things. He wanted his meals simple and reglur and uv de plain sort, and as fer dese high ferlootin’ feasts dey didn’t suit his taste.

“It look lik Brer Jasper couldn’t stop preachin’. It wuz his food and drink, an’ enny time he’d git way beyond his strength. I’ve seen ’im wen it looked lik de las’ bref hed gone out’en his body, and sometimes some uv de brutherin say he did not look like a natchul man. He seemed more in hevun dan on urth. I most reckun some uv de brutherin thought he wuz gone up in ter heavun like Lijer. Dey go in de pulpit and tek hol’ uv ’im and say Brer Jasper yer dun preached nuff. Don’t wear yerself down. Tek yer seat and res’ yersef. He knew dey did it fer luv, and he took it kind, but he didn’t always stop at once.

“Brer Jasper had a walk mity remarkbul. Wen he went in de streets he wuz so stately and grave lik dat he walk diffrunt from all de people. Folks wud run out uv all de stores, or out on der porches, or turn back ter look wen Jasper kum ’long. Oh, it made us proud ter look at him. No other preacher could walk like him. Yer felt de ground got holy war he went ’long. Sum uv ’em say it wuz ekul ter a revival ter see John Jasper moving lik a king ’long de street. Often he seemed ter be wrappd up in his thoughts and hardly to know whar he wuz. De people feared ’im so much,--wid sech a luvin’ kind uv fear, dat dey hardly dared to speak ter him.

“Brer Jasper wuz mity fond uv walkin’ in de pulpit. It wuz a great large place, and he frisked round most lik he wuz a boy. Wen he filled up wid de rousement of the Gospel on him, it was just glor’us to see him as he whirled about the stand; the faces of his folks shone wid de brightness of de sun, and they ofen made the house ring with laughter and with their shouts.

“One thing he did dat always made his congregasons rock wid joy, an’ dat wuz ter sing wile he wuz preachin’. He wuz mos’ ninety years old, but he never lost his power ter sing, an’ wen he struck er tune de note uv it shot in de people lik arrurs from anguls quivur. Yer cudn’t hol’ still wen Jasper sung. Soon as he started, de people would ’gin to swing an’ jine in tel de music filled de house. He cud sing a heap uv songs, but he had a few great songs. Yer orter to hear him sing by hiself his favrite piece.” Here it is:

EV’BUDY GOT TER RISE TER MEET KING JESUS IN DE MORNIN’

“‘Ev’budy got ter rise ter meet King Jesus in de mornin’; De high and de lo’; De rich and de po’, De bond and de free, As well as me.

“‘Yer got ter rise ter meet King Jesus in de mornin’, Weddur yer iz purparred er no, Ter Gord’s trirbewnul Yer got ter go, Yer got ter rise ter meet King Jesus in de mornin’.

“‘De lurnid and de unlurnid, Barbareun, Jentile and de Jew, Hev yer red hit in Hiz wurd, Dat de peepul wuz drondid in de flud, Ev’budy got ter rise ter meet King Jesus in de mornin’.’

“Dar wuz a song dat Jasper made hisself. Some called it a ballard, and udders said it wuz a poem; but wat evur twuz, it wuz glory ter hear him sing it. It went dis way:--

“‘I beheld and lo A grate multertude dat no man kin number, Thousuns and thousuns, an’ ten thousun times ten thousun, Standin’ befo’ de Lam’, And dey had pams in dere hans.

“‘Dey nevur restid day nur night, Cryin’ Holy, Holy, Holy, iz de Lord, Gord uv Sabbuth Dat wuz, an’ iz, and iz ter kum, I saw a mi’ty ainjel flyin’ through de midst uv heaven, Cryin’ wid a loud voice, Sayin’ Woe! Woe! Woe! be unto de earth by reazun uv de trumpit, Dat which is yet ter soun’. And when de las’ trumpit shall soun’, See de great men and noble, De rich, and de po’, de bond and de free, Gueddur ’emselves terguedder, cryin’ ter de rocks, an’ ter de mountins, Ter fall ’pon ’em an’ hide ’em, From de face uv Him dat sitteth on de throne, De great day uv His rath hav kum an’ who shall be able ter stan’?’

“And den, too, he had his shoutin’ song. He never sung it ’cept wen de heavenly fires wuz burnin’ all over his soul. He kept tune wid his walkin’ and wid de clappin’ uv his hands. Dis song never got in ’cept at de close uv sermons dat had heaven in ’em, and somehow he jumped from de sermon all at once in ter de song an’ it would hev fairly kilt yer wid joy ter hear it. Here is de way he put it:--

“‘My soul will mount higher in a chariot of fire, And de wurl’ is put under my feet.’

“Dis wuz the start uv it, but dere wuz heaps more.

“It wuz an awful time ter us wen we begun ter see dat our ole pastor wuz near ter de end uv his race. We had been a-dreddin’ it by degrees and it broke on us more and more. I think de dere man tried ter git us reddy fer it. He kep sayin’ to us: ‘My chilrun, my work on de earth is dun. I doan ask death no more odds dan a horse-fly.’ But den he’d preach so powerful dat we’d hope dat he’d hol’ out a good deal longer. He said ter me one day: ‘Compartivly speakin’, my time in dis wurl’ is skin deep,’ and I look at my hand and think how thin de skin is, and I feel dat sho’ nuff he mus’ soon be goin’.

“One night at de church he turned hissef loos. He said dat as fer ’imself it mattered nuthin’. He had paid all his debts, dat he did not keer whar or when he dropped; but he wanted everybody ter know dat he wud be wid Jesus. Dat wuz one uv de things dat he luved ter say. Den he told de church dat dar wuz nuthin’ lef’ uv him,--dat he wanted ’em to git tergedder and pay off der church debt and live tergedder lik little chil’run. He wuz mity gret dat night, an’ it looked lik de powers uv de wurl’ ter kum wuz dar.

“De people went out silent lik an’ dey said dat de gud ole pastor preached his own funeral dat night. He allus thought uv hissef es de servant uv King Jesus. Dat wuz a slavery dat he liked and nevur wished to git free from it. Towards de las’ he wuz all de time sayin’: ‘I am now at de river’s brink and waitin’ fer furder orders. It’s de same ter me ter go or stay, jes’ es Gord commands.’

“Some folks said dat he wuz conceited. Dey did not know him. He wuz too full uv de fear uv Gord to think he wuz sum great body, an’ he know’d his own sins an’ troubles too well ter boast. He must hev known dat Gord made him more uv a man dan de gen’ral run. He had ter kno’ dat, ’caus’ it wuz proved ter him every day, an’ in a heap uv ways. Besides dat, he hilt hisself up high. He had good respec’ for hisself and felt dat a man lik he wuz had got ter behave hisself ’cordin’ ter wat he wuz. But dat wuz very different from bein’ one uv dese giddy little fops dat is always trancin’ aroun’ showin’ hisself off, and braggin’ ’bout everything. I often wondered how Jasper could be so umble lik, wen so many cacklin’ fools wuz bodderin’ ’im.

“Brer Jasper could git up big things wen he tried. Wen dey got in a tight place ’bout de church an’ had to have money, he got up a skurshun ter Washington. He sent out de members ter sell tickets, an’ dey sold so many dat dey had ter have two trains ter carry ’em, and jes’ think, sir, he cleared $1,500 fer his church by dat skurshun, and he got up anudder to Staunton dat wuz mos’ as good as de udder one. Ah, he wuz a leader, I tell you he wuz. We never could have had our fine church if it had not bin fer him.

“It’s mity easy fer folks ter forget things. Some folks are teerin’ ’roun’ as if the church b’longed ter ’em now, and dey are ready ter tell you dat Jasper made mistakes and all dat, but sum uv us knows well dat Jasper built dat church. You need nevur spect ter hear any more sech preachin’ in dat pulpit as dat grand ole man uv God used ter give us.

“You know Brer Jasper got convicted uv his sins fer de first time on de 4th of July in Capitol Squar’, Richmond. He use ter tell us ’bout it many a time. While de folks wuz swarmin’ ’roun’ and laffin’ and hurrahin’, an arrer uv convicshun went in ter his proud heart an’ brought ’im low. He never forgot dat place, and when he got ter be an ole man he wuz kinder drawn ter Capitol Squar. He luv ter go down dar. He like de cool shade uv de trees and ’joyed de res’, dozin’ sometimes wen he wuz tired. De people, and speshully de chilrun, used ter git ’roun’ him an’ ask him questions an’ make him talk. He lik things lik dat. Some uv de Jews used ter kum ter hear Brer Jasper preach. They called him Father Abraham and showed gret gud feelin’ fur ’im. Some uv ’em used ter meet him in de Cap’tol Squar’ an’ dey would have great ole talks tergudder, an’ he didn’t mind tellin’ ’em de truth an’ he told ’em dat dey wuz de chilrun uv Abraham, but dat dey had gone all to pieces.

“Dey tell me he never went ter skule ’cep’ six months, an’ I hear dat he jes’ studied wid a man dat taught him in a New York Speller book; but when he spoke at de Y. M. C. A. and many uv de white gemmen went ter hear ’im, they say he certainly used ellergunt language. I know he could handle great words when he wanted to, an’ he could talk in de old way, an’ he often loved to do dat.”

IX

JASPER’S SERMON ON “DEM SEBUN WIMMIN”

“Did yer ebur git yer mine on wat Iz’er say in chapter fo’ an’ vurs wun? Listen ter hiz wurds: ‘An’ sebun wimmin shall tek hol’ uv wun man in dat day, sayin’ we will eat our own bread an’ wear our own ’parrel; only let us be called by Thy name; tek Thou erway our reproach.’ De Profit iz furloserfizin’ ’bout de mattur uv wimmin,--speshully wen dar is sebun in de lan’, wen wars dun thin out de men and de wimmins feels de stings an’ bites uv reproach. I tell yer, yer bettur not fling yer gibes an’ sneers at er ’omun. She wuzn’t made ter stan’ it, an’ wats mo’, she ain’t gwine ter stan’ it. Shure ez yer iz settin’ on dat bench she will fly erway an’ hide hersef, or she will fly at yer, an’ den, ole fellur, yer had bettur be pullin’ out fer de tall timbur fast. Gord dun settled it dat wun ’omun iz nuff fer a man, an’ two iz er war on yer hans,--bles yer, it is.

“But dar kums times wen it goze hard wid wimmin. Dey iz lef out uv de lottry uv heavun,--dey draws blanks an’ dey gits ter be a laughin’ stock uv de ungodly. Not dat dey iz crazy ter marry an’ not dat dey iz uv dat flautin’, slatturn lot dat’s allus gallantin’ eroun’ ertryin’ ter git a man ter ’sport um. Dese wuz squar, alrite wimmin. Wurk wud not skeer um. Dey wuz willin’ ter mek dere bread an’ cloes, ter pay dere own way, purvidid dey cud be Mrs. Sumbody, an’ in dat way ’skape de dev’lish jeers an’ slites uv base men. Fur my part, I feels quite sorry fur dat class uv ladiz, an’ I kinder feels my blud gittin’ up wen I finds folks castin’ reproachiz on dere fair names.

“But my mastur in de skies! Dis pikshur here uv de Profit iz too much fer me. It mek me feel lik tekin’ ter de woods, in quick ordur. Lord, wat wud I do ef I wuz pursued by er army uv seben wimmin axin me ter ’low each wun uv um ter be call’d Mrs. Jasper? It may be dat each wun wuz fer hersef ter de limit, an’ hoped ter shet out de udder six an’ hev de man ter hersef;--an’ ef she wuz ter hev ’im ertall she ort ter hav all uv im. Dar iz not nuff ter d’vide; I tel yer, dar ain’t, an’ wen yer git er haf intrest in er man yer iz po’ indeed, an’ ef only wun sevunth iz yourn, yer had es wel start on ter de po’house ’fo yer git yer dinner.

“A gud ’omun can’t byar ter be oberluked. It ain’t her nature, an’ it iz a site fer de anguls ter see wat sort uv men sum wimmin wil tek sooner dan be lef’ out inti’ly.

“But wat gits me arter all iz a man. I see ’im in de quiet uv de day,--de Sabbuth day. He teks a strole fer de koolin’ uv hiz mine, erwearin’ uv hiz nice cloes, an’ feelin’ lik a new man in de City Kounsil; de fust thing he know’d a lady glide up ter ’im an’ put her han’ lite on hiz arm. He jump ’roun’ an’ she say, mity flush’d up, ‘’skuse me!’

“He see at wunst she er lady, but he wuz kinder lo’ in hiz sperrit, an’ yit he wish in hiz hart dat she had gon ter de udder en uv de rode, but he want ter hear her out.

“She tel ’im de site uv a man wuz medsin fer bad eyes, dat nurly all uv ’em wuz cut down in de war an’ dat in konsquens it wuz er lonesum time fer wimmin; dey hev nobody now ringin’ de do’ bells in de eebnin; no boys sendin’ ’em flowers an’ ’fekshuns; no sweetarts tekin’ ’em walkin’ on Sunday arternoons, an’ weddins gwine out er fashun. An’ dis ain’t de wust uv it. It mek us shamed. De wives,--dey purrades roun’ an’ brags ’bout dere ’ole mans’ an’ cuts der eye at us skornful; an’ de husban’s iz mity nigh es bad, erpokin’ fun at us an’ axin erbout de chillun.

“She say yer needn’ think we’re crazy ter marry; tain’t dat, an’ tain’t dat we want yer ter ’sport us,--no, no! We hev money an’ kin funnish our own vittuls an’ cloes, an’ we kin wuk; but it iz dat reproach dey kas’ on us, de wear an’ tear uv bein’ laff’d at dat cuts us so deep. Ef I cud be Mrs. Sumbody,--had sum proof dat I had de name uv sum un,--sumthin’ ter rub off de reproach. Dat’s it,--dis ding-dongin’ uv de fokes at me.

“De man wuz pale es linnin, an’ wuz hopin’ ter ansur, but fo’ de wud floo frum his lips ernudder ’omun hooked ’im on de ter side. Mursy uv de Lord! two uv ’em had ’im an’ it luk lik dey wuz gwine ter rip ’im in tew an’ each tek a haf. De las’ wun tel her tale jes’ lik de fust wun an’ wuss. She brung in tears es part uv her argurmint, an’ de ter wun got fretted an’ used wuds dat wud hev konkurred ’im ef jes’ den two mo’,--two mo’, mine yer, mekin’ fo’ in all, hed not kum up an’ gits er grip on de gemmun, an’ hiz eyes luk lik dey’d pop out his hed;--wun on each side an’ two ter hiz face, an’ it seems he gwine ter faint.

“‘Yer ladiz,’ he says, ‘may be rite in yer ’thuzasm, but yer iz too menny. Up ter dis time I hev bin shy uv wun, but ef I cud be erlowed ter choose jes’ wun I mite try it.’

“Den de fo’ wimmins begun ter git shaky wen a nur wun sailed in,--dat’s five, den ernudder; dat’s six, and den wun mo’--SEBUN!

“Luk, will yer! Sevun got wun man. It izn’t sed wedder de wimmin wuz fer a partnurship wid de man es de kapertul, or wedder each uv ’em hoped ter beat out de udder six; but wun thing we know an’ dat iz dat de po’ man iz in de low grounds uv sorrur. Ter my min’, de pikshur iz mity seerus, ebun do it mek us smile. Fur my po’ part, I iz glad we lives in fairer times. In our day mens iz awful plen’ful wid us, tho’ I kin not say dat de qualty iz fust class in ve’y menny. But I thanks de Lord dat mos’ enny nice leddy kin git merrid in dese times ef dey choose, an’ dat wid out gwine out sparkin’ fur de man. I notis dat ef she stay ter home, ten her buznis, min’ her mudder, an’ not sweep de streets too off’n wid her skirts, in de long run her modes’ sperrit will win de day. I ubsurv ernudder thing; de unmerrid lady, de ole maid es sum calls her,--need not hang her haid. Jes’ let her be quiet an’ surv de Lord; jes’ not fret ’bout wat fools says,--dey duz er heep uv talkin’, but it iz lik de cracklin’ uv de burnin’ sticks under de pot, a big fuss an’ a littul heat. Fer my part, I honners de ’oman dat b’haves hersef, briduls her tongue, duz her wuk, an’ sings es she goes erlong. Her contentid sperrit beats a lazy husbun’ ebry time, an’ mity off’n it brings er gud husbun’ erlong.

“Es fer dese fokes dat flurts an’ skouts at ole maids dey ain’ fitten ter live, an’ ort ter be in de bottum uv Jeems Rivur, ’cept’n’ dey’d spile de watur. No gemmun nur no lady wud do it.

“Now dis iz my wud ’bout de wimmin, an’ I hope yer lik it, but if yer doant, jes’ ’member dat Jasper sed it, an’ will stan’ by it, til de cows in de lo’er feil’ kums home.”

X

JASPER GLIMPSED UNDER VARIOUS LIGHTS

Jasper’s mother was near the century line when she died, and he attained unto the extraordinary age of eighty-nine. Truly there must have been rare endurance in the texture of the stock. Jasper’s thoughts did not turn to religion until he was twenty-seven and yet by reason of his longevity he was a preacher for sixty years. During twenty-five years of that time he was a slave, and he had about thirty-five years of personal civil freedom, during which he won the distinctions that will make him a figure slow to pass out of history.

Jasper can have no successor. Freedom did not change him. It came too late for him to be seriously affected by its transforming hand. It never dazzled him by its festive charms nor crooked him with prejudice against the white people. There was far more for him in the traditions, sentiments, and habits of his bondage-days than in the new things which emancipation offered. He never took up with gaudy displays which marked his race in the morning of their freedom. This was especially true as to his ministry. He clung without apology to the old ways. In preaching, he spurned the new pulpit manners, the new style of dress, and all new-fangled tricks, which so fascinated his race. He intoned his sermons,--at least, in their more tender passages--sang the old revival songs of the plantations and factories, and felt it a part of his religion to smash, with giant hand, the innovations which the new order was bringing in. Of all the men whom I have known this weird, indescribable man cared the least for opposition;--unless he believed it touched his personal honour or was likely to injure the cause of religion. Indeed, he liked it. He was a born fighter and a stranger to fear. There was a charm in his resentments: they were of a high order, and inevitably commanded manly sympathy. He instinctively identified himself with the Lord and felt that when he fought he was fighting the Lord’s battles. Satire and sarcasm were like Toledo blades in his hands. He often softened his attacks upon his enemies by such ludicrous hits and provoking jests that you felt that, after all, his hostility lacked the roots of hatred. He was far more prone to despise than to hate his enemies.

There is a curious fact in connection with Jasper’s language. Evidently in his early days his speech was atrociously ungrammatical. His dialect, while possessing an element of fascination, was almost unspellable. During his long ministerial life his reading and contact with educated people rooted out many of his linguistic excrescences. There were times when he spoke with approximate accuracy, and even with elegance; and yet he delighted, if indeed he was conscious of it, in returning to his dialect and in pouring it forth unblushingly in its worst shape, and yet always with telling effect. But the wonder of his speaking was his practical independence of language. When he became thoroughly impassioned and his face lit with the orator’s glory, he seemed to mount above the bondage of words: his feet, his eyes, indeed every feature of his outer being became to him a new language. If he used words, you did not notice it You were simply entranced and borne along on the mountain-tide of his passion. You saw nothing but him. You heard _him_; you felt him, and the glow of his soul was language enough to bring to you his message. It ought to be added that no man ever used the pause more eloquently or effectively than Jasper, and his smile was logic; it was rhetoric; it was blissful conviction.

Those who thought that Jasper was a mere raver did not know. Logic was his tower of strength. He never heard of a syllogism, but he had a way of marshalling his facts and texts which set forth his view as clear as the beaming sun. The Bible was to him the source of all authority, while his belief in the justice and truth of God was something unworldly. He understood well enough his frailties, his fallibility, and the tendency of the human soul towards unfairness and deceit. I heard him say once with irresistible effect: “Brutherin, Gord never lies; He can’t lie. Men lie. I lie sometimes, I am very sorry to say it. I oughtn’t to lie, and it hurts me when I do. I am tryin’ ter git ober it, and I think I will by Gord’s grace, but de Lord nevur lies.” His tone in saying this was so humble and candid that I am sure the people loved him and believed in him more for what he said. A hypocrite could never have said it. Jasper could never be put into words. As he could speak without words so it is true that words could never contain him,--never tell his matchless story, never make those who did not hear him and see him fully understand the man that he was.

A notable and pathetic episode in Jasper’s history was the fact that during the bitter days of the Confederacy when Richmond was crowded with hospitals,--hospitals themselves crowded with the suffering,--Jasper used to go in and preach to them. It was no idle entertainment provided by a grotesque player. He always had a message for the sorrowful. There is no extended record of his labours in the hospitals, but the simple fact is that he, a negro labourer with rude speech, was welcomed by these sufferers and heard with undying interest; no wonder they liked him. His songs were so mellow, so tender, so reminiscent of the southern plantation and of the homes from which these men came. His sermons had the ring of the old gospel preaching so common in the South. He had caught his manner of preaching from the white preachers and they too had been his only theological teachers. We can easily understand how his genius, seasoned with religious reverence, made him a winsome figure to the men who languished through the weary days on the cots. It cannot be said too often that Jasper was the white man’s preacher. Wherever he went, the Anglo-Saxon waived all racial prejudices and drank the truth in as it poured in crystal streams from his lips.