If I could turn my tongue like that: the Creole language of Pointe Coupee Parish, Louisiana 9780807127797

Table of contents :
If I Could Turn My Tongue Like That
IF I COULD TURN MY TONGUE Like That
Contents
Tables
Acknowledgments
Abbreviations and Symbols
Introduction
PART I Sociohistorical Background
Chapter 1 Colonial Louisiana
1.1 Exploration and Early Settlement of Louisiana
1.2 Slaves
1.3 Economic Activity and Social Relations
1.4 Population Growth in the Spanish Period
1.4.1 EUROPEANS
1.4.2 RE-AFRICANIZATION UNDER SPANISH RULE
1.4.3 GEOGRAPHIC DISTRIBUTION OF THE SLAVE POPULATION
Conclusion
Table 2: Ratio of Slaves to Free Persons, 1731–1788
Chapter 2 The Development of Louisiana Creole
2.1 Evidence from Early Texts
ANALYSIS
2.2 The Creolization Process
2.3 The Question of African Influence on Louisiana Creole
2.4 The Question of Multiple Geneses of Louisiana Creole58
The Argument for Separate Origins
Demographic Evidence
Linguistic Evidence
Linguistic Evidence
Conclusion
Chapter 3 Pointe Coupee Parish
3.1 The Setting
3.2 Exploration and Early Settlement
The Colonists
3.3 Development of a Plantation Economy and Growth of the Slave Population
3.4 Americanization
3.5 Creole Among Whites
Characteristic Features of the Creole Spoken by Whites
Phonology
Morphosyntax
The Noun Phrase
The Verb Phrase
3.6 The Dominance of English in the Post-War Period
3.6.1 THE MECHANIZATION OF AGRICULTURE
3.6.2 EDUCATION39
3.7 Louisiana Creole in a Broader Francophone Context
3.8 Creole and English in Pointe Coupee
3.9 The Effects of Language Loss
Conclusion
PART II Grammatical Description
Chapter 4 Preliminaries
4.1 Methodology
4.2 Speakers Consulted for the Study
Table 10: Creole Speakers Consulted for the Study
4.3 English Words
4.4 The Phonological System of Louisiana Creole and the Notation of Creole Sounds
4.4.1 CONSONANTS
4.4.2 SEMICONSONANTS
4.4.3 VOWELS
Contextual Nasalization
Problems in Representing Nasal Vowels
4.5 The Division of Lexical Units
Agglutinated Nouns
Compounds
4.6 Editing of Transcribed Speech
4.7 Descriptive Framework
Chapter 5 The Noun Phrase
5.1 Nouns
5.1.1 NOUNS WITH AN AGGLUTINATED ELEMENT
5.1.1.1 GROUP 1: l-, n-, z-
5.1.1.2 GROUP 2: la-,6 le-
5.1.1.3 GROUP 3: di-, du- and de-, dez-
5.1.2 UNAGGLUTINATED NOUNS
5.1.3 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF AGGLUTINATION
5.1.4 GENDER
5.1.5 NUMBER
5.2 Determiners
5.2.1 INDEFINITE DETERMINERS
5.2.2 DEFINITE DETERMINERS
5.2.2.1 FUNCTIONS OF THE DETERMINERS
5.2.2.1.1 The Marking of Specificity
5.2.2.1.2 Deictic Properties of the Definite Determiners
5.2.2.2 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF DEFINITE/DEICTIC DETERMINERS34
Table 12: Definite Determiners (Simplified Summary)
5.2.3 DEMONSTRATIVE DETERMINERS
5.2.3.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF DEMONSTRATIVE DETERMINERS
Table 13: Demonstrative Determiners
5.2.4 POSSESSIVE DETERMINERS
Other Possessive Constructions
5.2.4.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF POSSESSIVE DETERMINERS
Table 14: Possessive Determiners (Singular Forms Only)
5.2.5 QUANTIFYING DETERMINERS tou ‘all, every’
5.2.6 CARDINAL NUMBERS
5.3 Adjectives
5.3.1 PRENOMINAL ADJECTIVES
5.3.1.1 DESCRIPTIVE ADJECTIVES
5.3.1.2 INDEFINITE ADJECTIVES
5.3.1.3 ORDINAL NUMBERS
5.3.2 POSTNOMINAL ADJECTIVES
5.4 Pronouns
5.4.1 PERSONAL PRONOUNS
Gender
Morphophonological Processes
5.4.1.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF PERSONAL PRONOUNS
5.4.2 POSSESSIVE PRONOUNS
Table 15: Subject Personal Pronouns
Table 16: Nonsubject Personal Pronouns
5.4.2.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF POSSESSIVE PRONOUNS
Table 17: Summary of Possessive Pronouns (Singular Forms Only)
5.4.3 DEMONSTRATIVE PRONOUNS
5.4.4 INDEFINITE PRONOUNS
Table 18: Demonstrative Pronouns
5.4.5 RELATIVE PRONOUNS
5.4.5.1 RELATIVE CLAUSES WITH EXPLICIT ANTECEDENTS
5.4.5.2 RELATIVE CLAUSES WITH NO EXPLICIT ANTECEDENT
5.4.5.3 RELATIVIZED PREPOSITIONAL OBJECTS
5.4.5.4 RELATIVIZATION OF NOUNS OF PLACE
5.4.5.5 RELATIVIZATION OF NOUNS OF TIME
5.4.5.6 GENITIVE RELATIVE CLAUSES
Chapter 6 The Verb Phrase
6.1 Verb Morphology
6.1.1 DIACHRONIC AND REGIONAL COMPARISONS
6.1.2 VERBS IN POINTE COUPEE
6.1.2.1 THE DISTRIBUTION OF LONG AND SHORT FORMS IN POINTE COUPEE
6.1.2.2 VERB FORMS
6.1.2.2.1 Verbs with Multiple Forms
6.1.2.2.2 Verbs with a Single Form
6.1.3 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF LONG AND SHORT VERB FORMS
6.2 Preverbal Markers of Tense, Mood, and Aspect
6.2.1 A NOTE CONCERNING GRAMMATICAL TENSE
6.2.2 MARKED AND UNMARKED VERBS
6.2.3 THE ANTERIOR MARKER TE
6.2.4 THE PROGRESSIVE MARKERS E AND APE, AP
6.2.5 THE FUTURE MARKERS A AND SA
6.2.6 THE CONDITIONAL MARKER SE
6.2.7 THE MARKER BIN
6.2.8 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF PREVERBAL MARKERS
6.3 Auxiliary Verbs
6.4 Causative Constructions
6.5 The Copula
6.5.1 ZERO-COPULA STRUCTURES
6.5.2 SE
6.5.2.1 SE AS COPULA
6.5.2.2 PRESENTATIVE SE
6.5.3 THE COPULA YE
6.5.4 THE COPULA ÈT, ETE (RARE)
6.5.5 OTHER COPULATIVE VERBS
6.5.6 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF THE COPULA
6.6 Reflexive Verbs
6.6.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF REFLEXIVE VERBS
6.7 Impersonal Expressions
6.7.1 EXISTENTIAL EXPRESSIONS
6.7.2 OTHER IMPERSONAL EXPRESSIONS
6.8 Verbs in Serial-like Constructions
6.9 The Imperative
6.10 The Passive
6.11 Comparison
6.11.1 EXPRESSION OF INEQUALITY
6.11.2 EQUALITY
6.12 Negation
6.13 Interrogative Structures
6.13.1 YES-OR-NO QUESTIONS
6.13.2 PARTIAL QUESTIONS
6.13.2.1 INTERROGATIVE PRONOUNS
6.13.2.2 THE INTERROGATIVE ADJECTIVE KI ‘WHAT, WHICH’
6.13.2.3 INTERROGATIVE WORDS AS OBJECTS OF PREPOSITIONS
6.13.2.4 INTERROGATIVE ADVERBS
6.14 Adverbs
6.14.1 ADVERBS OF TIME
6.14.2 ADVERBS OF PLACE
6.14.3 ADVERBS OF MANNER
6.14.4 ADVERBS OF DEGREE, QUANTITY
6.14.5 INTERROGATIVE ADVERBS (SEE 6.13.2.4) 6.14.6 NEGATIVE ADVERBS (SEE 6.12) 6.14.7 OTHER ADVERBS
6.15 Prepositions
6.15.1 CIRCUMSTANTIAL COMPLEMENTS NOT INTRODUCED BY A PREPOSITION
6.15.2 THE PREPOSITION D, DÈ (VAR.)
6.15.3 PREPOSITIONS OF TIME
6.15.4 PLACE, DIRECTION, SITUATION
6.15.5 MANNER, ATTRIBUTION, MOTIVE
6.15.6 CAUSE, ORIGIN
6.15.7 OPPOSITION, SEPARATION, EXCEPTION
6.15.8 UNION, CONFORMITY
6.16 Conjunctions
6.16.1 COORDINATING CONJUNCTIONS
6.16.2 SUBORDINATING CONJUNCTIONS
6.16.2.1 SUBORDINATION WITHOUT CONJUNCTIONS
6.16.2.2 SUBORDINATION WITH KE (VAR.), KI (RARE) ‘THAT’
6.16.2.3 CONJUNCTIONS OF TIME
6.16.2.4 CONJUNCTIONS OF CAUSE
6.16.2.5 CONJUNCTION OF GOAL OR PURPOSE
6.16.2.6 CONJUNCTIONS OF CONCESSION
6.16.2.7 CONJUNCTIONS OF CONDITION
6.16.2.8 CONJUNCTION OF COMPARISON
PART III Interview Excerpts
Chapter 7 Conversations in Creole
7.1 Interview with LD
7.2 Interview with RD
7.3 Interview with KS
7.4 Interview with AS
7.5 Interview with GL
7.6 Interview with NF
7.7 Interview with YC and JL
7.8 Interview with ME
7.9 Interview with MP
Works Cited
Glossary
Index

Citation preview

If I Could Turn My Tongue Like That Thomas Klingler Begin Content

IF I COULD TURN MY TONGUE Like That Thomas A. Klingler

IF I COULD TURN MY TONGUE Like That THE CREOLE LANGUAGE OF POINTE COUPEE PARISH, LOUISIANA

Copyright © 2003 by Thomas A. Klingler All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America First printing 12 11 10 09 08 07 06 05 04 03 5 4 3 2 1 Designer: Amanda McDonald Scallan Typeface: Minion Typesetter: Coghill Composition Co., Inc. Printer and Binder: Thomson-Shore, Inc. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Klingler, Thomas A. If I could turn my tongue like that: the Creole Language of Pointe Coupee Parish, Louisiana / Thomas A. Klingler. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-8071-2779-5 (cloth: alk. paper) 1. Creole dialects, French—Louisiana—Pointe Coupee Parish. 2. Louisiana—History—To 1803. I. Title. PM7854.L6 K57 2003 447′.9763454—dc21 2002040631 The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources.

This book was published with the assistance of a grant from the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities, the state affiliate of the National Endowment for the Humanities. To my parents,Charles and Susie Klingler

Contents Acknowledgments Abbreviations and Symbols Maps Introduction PART I Sociohistorical Background

Chapter 1 • Colonial Louisiana 1.1 Exploration and Early Settlement of Louisiana 1.2 Slaves 1.3 Economic Activity and Social Relations 1.4 Population Growth in the Spanish Period 1.4.1 Europeans 1.4.2 Re-Africanization Under Spanish Rule 1.4.3 Geographic Distribution of the Slave Population Chapter 2 • The Development of Louisiana Creole 2.1 Evidence from Early Texts 2.2 The Creolization Process 2.3 The Question of African Influence on Louisiana Creole 2.4 The Question of Multiple Geneses of Louisiana Creole Chapter 3 • Pointe Coupee Parish 3.1 The Setting 3.2 Exploration and Early Settlement 3.3 Development of a Plantation Economy and Growth of the Slave Population 3.4 Americanization 3.5 Creole Among Whites 3.6 The Dominance of English in the Post-War Period

3.6.1 The Mechanization of Agriculture 3.6.2 Education 3.7 Louisiana Creole in a Broader Francophone Context 3.8 Creole and English in Pointe Coupee 3.9 The Effects of Language Loss PART II Grammatical Description Chapter 4 • Preliminaries 4.1 Methodology 4.2 Speakers Consulted for the Study 4.3 English Words 4.4 The Phonological System of Louisiana Creole and the Notation of Creole Sounds 4.4.1 Consonants 4.4.2 Semiconsonants 4.4.3 Vowels 4.5 The Division of Lexical Units 4.6 Editing of Transcribed Speech 4.7 Descriptive Framework Chapter 5 • The Noun Phrase 5.1 Nouns 5.1.1 Nouns with an Agglutinated Element

5.1.1.1 Group 1: l-, n-,z5.1.1.2 Group 2: la-, le5.1.1.3 Group 3: di-, du- and de-, dez5.1.2 Unagglutinated Nouns 5.1.3 A Cross-Creole Comparison of Agglutination 5.1.4 Gender 5.1.5 Number 5.2 Determiners 5.2.1 Indefinite Determiners 5.2.2 Definite Determiners 5.2.2.1 Functions of the Determiners 5.2.2.1.1 The Marking of Specificity 5.2.2.1.2 Deictic Properties of the Definite Determiners 5.2.2.2 A Cross-Creole Comparison of Definite/Deictic Determiners 5.2.3 Demonstrative Determiners 5.2.3.1 A Cross-Creole Comparison of Demonstrative Determiners 5.2.4 Possessive Determiners 5.2.4.1 A Cross-Creole Comparison of Possessive Determiners 5.2.5 Quantifying Determiners 5.2.6 Cardinal Numbers

5.3 Adjectives 5.3.1 Prenominal Adjectives 5.3.1.1 Descriptive Adjectives 5.3.1.2 Indefinite Adjectives 5.3.1.3 Ordinal Numbers 5.3.2 Postnominal Adjectives 5.4 Pronouns 5.4.1 Personal Pronouns 5.4.1.1 A Cross-Creole Comparison of Personal Pronouns/ 212 5.4.2 Possessive Pronouns 5.4.2.1 A Cross-Creole Comparison of Possessive Pronouns 5.4.3 Demonstrative Pronouns 5.4.4 Indefinite Pronouns 5.4.5 Relative Pronouns 5.4.5.1 Relative Clauses with Explicit Antecedents 5.4.5.2 Relative Clauses with No Explicit Antecedent 5.4.5.3 Relativized Prepositional Objects 5.4.5.4 Relativization of Nouns of Place 5.4.5.5 Relativization of Nouns of Time 5.4.5.6 Genitive Relative Clauses

Chapter 6 • The Verb Phrase 6.1. Verb Morphology 6.1.1 Diachronic and Regional Comparisons 6.1.2 Verbs in Pointe Coupee 6.1.2.1 The Distribution of Long and Short Forms in Pointe Coupee 6.1.2.2 Verb Forms 6.1.2.2.1 Verbs with Multiple Forms 6.1.2.2.2 Verbs with a Single Form 6.1.3. A Cross-Creole Comparison of Long and Short Verb Forms 6.2 Preverbal Markers of Tense, Mood, and Aspect 6.2.1 A Note Concerning Grammatical Tense 6.2.2 Marked and Unmarked Verbs 6.2.3 The Anterior Marker te 6.2.4 The Progressive Markers e and ape, ap 6.2.5 The Future Markers a and sa 6.2.6 The Conditional Marker se 6.2.7 The Marker bin 6.2.8 A Cross-Creole Comparison of Preverbal Markers 6.3 Auxiliary Verbs 6.4 Causative Constructions

6.5 The Copula 6.5.1 Zero-Copula Structures 6.5.2 Se 6.5.2.1 Se as Copula 6.5.2.2 Presentative se 6.5.3 The Copula ye 6.5.4 The Copula èt, ete 6.5.5 Other Copulative Verbs 6.5.6 A Cross-Creole Comparison of the Copula 6.6 Reflexive Verbs 6.6.1. A Cross-Creole Comparison of Reflexive Verbs 6.7 Impersonal Expressions 6.7.1 Existential Expressions 6.7.2 Other Impersonal Expressions 6.8 Verbs in Serial-like Constructions 6.9 The Imperative 6.10 The Passive 6.11 Comparison 6.11.1 Expression of Inequality 6.11.2 Equality

6.12 Negation 6.13 Interrogative Structures 6.13.1 Yes-or-No Questions 6.13.2 Partial Questions 6.13.2.1 Interrogative Pronouns 6.13.2.2 The Interrogative Adjective ki ‘what, which’ 6.13.2.3 Interrogative Words as Objects of Prepositions 6.13.2.4 Interrogative Adverbs 6.14 Adverbs 6.14.1 Adverbs of Time 6.14.2 Adverbs of Place 6.14.3 Adverbs of Manner 6.14.4 Adverbs of Degree, Quantity 6.14.5 Interrogative Adverbs 6.14.6 Negative Adverbs 6.14.7 Other Adverbs 6.15 Prepositions 6.15.1 Circumstantial Complements Not Introduced by a Preposition 6.15.2 The Preposition d, dè 6.15.3 Prepositions of Time

6.15.4 Place, Direction, Situation 6.15.5 Manner, Attribution, Motive 6.15.6 Cause, Origin 6.15.7 Opposition, Separation, Exception 6.15.8 Union, Conformity 6.16 Conjunctions 6.16.1 Coordinating Conjunctions 6.16.2 Subordinating Conjunctions 6.16.2.1 Subordination Without Conjunctions 6.16.2.2 Subordination with ke (var.), ki (rare) ‘that’ 6.16.2.3 Conjunctions of Time 6.16.2.4 Conjunctions of Cause 6.16.2.5 Conjunction of Goal or Purpose 6.16.2.6 Conjunctions of Concession 6.16.2.7 Conjunctions of Condition 6.16.2.8 Conjunction of Comparison PART III Interview Excerpts Chapter 7 • Conversations in Creole 7.1 Interview with LD 7.2 Interview with RD

7.3 Interview with KS 7.4 Interview with AS 7.5 Interview with GL 7.6 Interview with NF 7.7 Interview with YC and JL 7.8 Interview with ME 7.9 Interview with MP Works Cited Glossary Index

Tables 1. Slave and Free Populations Along the Mississippi in 1726 and 1731–1732 2. Ratio of Slaves to Free Persons, 1731–1788 3. Free Persons and Slaves in the Attakapas District, 1766–1860 4. Origins of Slaves Appearing in Documents from St. Martin and St. Landry Parishes 5. Mean Ages of Africans and Creoles in the Attakapas and of Newly Arrived Africans in All of Louisiana, by Five-Year Periods, 1770– 1820

6. Saint-Domingue Refugees Arriving in New Orleans from Cuba, 1809–1810 7. Origins of African-Born Slaves in Pointe Coupee During the Spanish Period 8. Population by Race in Louisiana and in Pointe Coupee, 1788– 1920 9. Percentage of Population 25 Years and Older Having Completed Less Than 5, 5–8, 9–12, and More Than 12 Years of School, Pointe Coupee (PC) and Louisiana (LA) 10. Creole Speakers Consulted for the Study 11. Syllabic Agglutinated Nominals in Selected French Lexicon Creoles 12. Definite Determiners (Simplified Summary) 13. Demonstrative Determiners 14. Possessive Determiners (Singular Forms Only) 15. Subject Personal Pronouns 16. Nonsubject Personal Pronouns 17. Summary of Possessive Pronouns (Singular Forms Only) 18. Demonstrative Pronouns

Acknowledgments SO MANY PEOPLE have helped in the creation of this book that it would be impossible to thank each one individually. Still, I want to recognize those who have made especially significant contributions

of one kind or another, and I apologize to anyone I might have overlooked. First and foremost, my deepest gratitude goes to the people of Pointe Coupee Parish, and above all to its Creole speakers, who kindly welcomed me into their community and gave so generously of their knowledge and their hospitality. Thanks to their participation, it has been possible to document a part of their rich cultural heritage for future generations. I would also like to express my sincere thanks to Albert Valdman, whose teaching and scholarship first attracted me to the study of Creole languages and who helped make it possible for me to investigate Louisiana Creole, an endeavor that has proven rewarding far beyond my expectations. His support and his insights in the years since I first began this study have been invaluable. Much of the field research for this project was made possible by generous financial support from the Georges Lurcy Charitable and Educational Trust, the National Endowment for the Humanities (Albert Valdman, Principle Investigator), the Louisiana Board of Regents, and Tulane University’s Committee on Research. Tulane University also provided me with semester-long leaves in 1995 and 1999 that greatly facilitated my gathering of data by allowing me to spend several months at a time in the False River area. Publication of the book was generously supported by a grant from the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities. I have benefitted immensely from the comments and suggestions of many colleagues and friends throughout the many stages of this project. I am especially indebted to Philip Baker, Robert Chaudenson, the late Chris Corne, and two anonymous reviewers for Louisiana State University Press for their careful reading of the manuscript and for their insightful suggestions. I can say with confidence that the book is substantially better than it would have been without their input. Others whose comments on earlier versions of the manuscript helped to improve the final product are Charles Klingler, Rebecca Moreton, Mike Picone, Ingrid Neumann-

Holzschuh, Paul Newman, Cathy R. Pons, and Samuel N. Rosenberg. Thanks also to Christine Cowan, copy editor for LSU Press, for her patience and care in editing the manuscript. Gwendolyn Hall deserves my special gratitude for the many hours she spent retrieving data from her Louisiana Slave Database at my request. Thanks to her patience, generosity, and above all her pathbreaking research, my study of the origin and development of Louisiana Creole (Part I) is informed by a more complete demographic record than exists for the vast majority of creolespeaking regions. The database is a marvelously rich and flexible tool for studying the demography of slavery in Louisiana, and I thank Gwendolyn Hall for letting me benefit from it before its publication on CD-ROM. I would also like to acknowledge the insightful comments of Paul Lachance regarding the influence of Saint-Domingue refugees and their slaves on the demographic and linguistic situation of Louisiana in the early American period. While the aforementioned people all helped to improve the book immensely, any shortcomings that remain are entirely my responsibility. My initial stay in Louisiana was made easier and more pleasant thanks to the warm hospitality of Meg Marshall and Skip Paul in Baton Rouge, Amanda LaFleur and Steve Giambroni in Lafayette, and Cliff Comeaux and Virginia and ovide DeSoto in New Roads. New Roads residents Cliff Fabre, the late Joseph Monceret, and Anne Plauche assisted me in countless ways, but I would particularly like to thank them for helping me to meet Creole speakers in the area. Charles David, Murray LeBeau, the late Patrick Olinde, and Alek Palmer were very generous in sharing their rich knowledge of the language, history, and culture of Pointe Coupee. In the course of innumerable conversations over the years, Brian Costello has given me a deeper understanding of the area and its people than I ever could have acquired on my own, and his fine work, A History of Pointe Coupee Parish, Louisiana, provided much of the historical background that informs Chapter 3 of this book.

The staff at the Pointe Coupee Parish Library, and in particular Beth Jewell Rougon, were always most kind and helpful. Thanks also to Beth and her husband Joe for a magical evening with Joseph DeCuir and other ghosts of Austerlitz Plantation. Special thanks also to Carl Hawkins, whose delicious gumbo helped to soothe spirits on a sad occasion. Among the keepers of the Creole language in Pointe Coupee, a few deserve special recognition for having spent countless hours tolerating with good cheer my repeated, lengthy visits and my interminable questions. I owe a great deal to the patience and expertise of Mable Battley, the late Harriet Christophe, the late Kerney Christophe, the late Mumford Colar, Nola DeCuir, the late Madeleine George, the late Nellie Jarreau, the late Elmo Jarreau, Isabelle Joseph, Earl Major, the late Emily Major, Florence Martin, Lottie Jarreau Mathis, the late Joseph Wilson Olinde, the late Alfred Rodney, and the late John Forrest Victorain. Others who also lent invaluable assistance were the late Claude Aguillard, the late Blanche Ballard, the late Cade Ballard, the late Eugene Baptiste, Ernest Battley, the late Mozart Battley, the late Julie Bergeron, Denis Bueche, Preston Chustz, Joseph Costello, Inez Costello, Eunice David, Fred David, Melba David, Angelina Ellois, the late LeRoy "Doc" Ellois, the late Edward Gauthier, Nolan Guerin, J. B. Guillaume, Thelma Guillaume, Eugene "Garcon" Hebert, Mayola Hebert, the late Eunice Jarreau Holmes, the late Aricie Jarreau, the late Ceasar Jarreau, Edward Jarreau, Hilda Jarreau, Tammy Lynn Jarreau, the late Willet Jarreau, Harry Kador, Melvin Kador, the late Richard "Expert" Kador, the late Richard "Pritcha" Kador, Francis Albert Labatut, Laura Labatut, Nellie Labatut, Thelma "Sis" LeDuff, the late Ferdinand LeDuff, Betty Leonard, Lena Jarreau Lewis, Irene Major, John Wage Major, Dalton Olinde, Laura Olinde, Melta Pourciau, Father Conway Rodney, Jr., the late Maurice Saison, and Winona Sicard. Finally, thanks to Bernie Ricard for her patience, her support, and, not least of all, her outrageous comments, in which, upon reflection, I

usually found a grain of truth. You’ve influenced this book in more ways than you know.

Abbreviations and Symbols Abbreviations French (without distinction as to Standard French or a Fr. regional variety or sociolect but in contrast to any variety of French-lexifier creole). Translation: Utterances in Louisiana Creole given as trans. translations of English cue sentences. (var.) Variant(s): Variant forms of a word exist. Symbols †

Deceased Either (1) a Creole word has been attested only among speakers of the secondary group, or (2) the word has been * attested in the speech of only one member of the primary group (see 4.2). … Portions of an utterance have been omitted. (…) A portion of the recording was incomprehensible.

Map 1

Map 2

Map 3

Map 4

Introduction SITUATED AT THE mouth of the great waterway that links the heart of the North American continent to the Caribbean and Atlantic worlds, Louisiana has been the point of intersection of an impressive variety of Old and New World cultures. In its swamps, along its bayous, and on its plains, American Indians and newly arrived Europeans and Africans encountered, not only each other, but also peoples of Old World origin born and raised in the colonies: French Canadians, Caribbean peoples of European and African descent, and, beginning in the late eighteenth century, English-speaking blacks and whites from the young United States. These encounters led to the creation of new and highly original cultural forms that have combined to give Louisiana the unique character it retains even today, after two centuries of Americanization.

The Creole language remains one of the most poorly understood products of cultural contact in the Lower Mississippi Valley, though it has been a part of the region’s unusually complex linguistic make-up since at least the late eighteenth century. Originally the language of Africans and their offspring, as well as of smaller numbers of Indians and Europeans, in New Orleans and on the plantations of colonial Louisiana, Louisiana Creole was formerly spoken across a wide area extending north as far as the city of Natchitoches and east along the Gulf coast as far as Mobile and possibly even Pensacola. Today it continues to be spoken by blacks, whites, and persons of mixed race, but its geographic spread is largely restricted to three main zones of concentration.1 These are, from east to west: (1) the stretches of the lower Mississippi Valley known as the German Coast and the Acadian Coast, which lie in St. James and St. John the Baptist Parishes between Baton Rouge and New Orleans; (2) the area around False River, an oxbow lake on the west bank of the Mississippi in Pointe Coupee Parish; and (3) an extensive area west of the Atchafalaya River Basin centered along the banks of Bayou Teche, especially in St. Martin Parish and, to a lesser extent, the parishes of Lafayette and St. Landry. It is this last zone that today has the greatest concentration of Creole speakers and may be considered the demographic center of Creole-speaking Louisiana. Outside these zones, pockets of Creole speakers are to be found in the towns of Lacombe, Bayou Liberty, and Slidell, all situated in St. Tammany Parish along the North Shore of Lake Pontchartrain, and in the town of Kraemer (also known as Bayou Boeuf) in Lafourche Parish. Finally, while Creole has all but disappeared among natives of New Orleans, many rural Creole speakers have migrated to the city and to other urban areas of Louisiana such as Baton Rouge, while others have gone beyond the borders of the state, especially to Texas and California. It is doubtful, however, that true Creole language communities have been reconstituted in any of these areas.2 While the Creole of each of these zones and isolates is recognizable as Louisiana Creole (as opposed to Cajun French, on the one hand, and to other French-lexifier creole varieties, on the other), there is considerable regional variation in the language, some of which I describe in Part II by contrasting the grammatical

structures of the Creole of Pointe Coupee with those found in the Creole of Breaux Bridge. Moreover, within individual regions Creole is marked by important variation tied to social groups, as I explain in greater detail in 3.5. While it is clear that Creole speakers in Louisiana today form a small and rapidly shrinking group, it is difficult to estimate their numbers with accuracy. The 1990 U.S. Census tabulations are of little help, listing only 6,310 persons as speakers of "Creole French" (Dubois and Melançon 2000, 246), a number that is surely too low. It is likely that most Creole speakers were either not represented in the census count of speakers of languages other than English or were included in the general category of speakers of "French" (census tabulations list 261,678 speakers of "French or French Creole" in Louisiana). There are several reasons for this. The first has to do with the specific question regarding language use on the census questionnaire, which asked, "Does this person speak a language other than English at home?" Since many Creole speakers no longer use the language regularly in the home (this is usually the case when a spouse has died, for example), they may not have identified themselves as speakers of the language for this question. Also, Creole has traditionally been a highly stigmatized variety and, despite efforts to elevate its status along with that of Cajun French, some people may have been reluctant to admit that they spoke it. Another explanation for the tiny number of self-declared Creole speakers is that language labels in Louisiana are fluid and imprecise. While the terms Cajun and Creole are widely used in reference to language, speakers of these varieties just as often refer to what they speak as simply "French," and many of them surely did so on the census. Furthermore, there is a strong tendency to use an identical term to designate a group’s ethnicity and the language its members speak, so that many white speakers of Creole refer to their speech as "Cajun," since this corresponds to the ethnic label they typically use to identify themselves. By the same token, many black and mixed-race speakers of what could, from a structural point of view, be considered Cajun, call their language "Creole" because that is also how they identify themselves ethnically.3 St. Landry Parish, in

particular, is home to many self-identified Creoles whose "Creole" speech is very similar, if not identical, to the "Cajun" of their white neighbors. Matters are further complicated by the fact that some white francophones of non-Acadian origin also refer to themselves as Creoles (a usage that was far more common in the nineteenth century but has not entirely disappeared today) and often use the same term to designate the language they speak, which in most cases is distinct from Louisiana Creole as defined here and may range in structure from something resembling Cajun French to something much closer to Standard French.4 Clearly, trying to determine the number of Creole speakers in Louisiana today is fraught with difficulty. For lack of a better gauge I will use Neumann’s 1985 estimate of 60,000–80,000 speakers as a point of reference (1985a, 20). Given the advanced age of most of this population and the fact that few, if any, children are learning the language, it is probably safe to assume that today, nearly two decades after Neumann made her estimate, there remain somewhat fewer than 50,000 speakers of Louisiana Creole. The Creole language in Louisiana has long coexisted with two other French-related speech varieties, Cajun French and Plantation Society French. The latter is a regional variety that differs little in structure from Standard French. It is often referred to as Colonial French in the literature on Louisiana, but I prefer the term Plantation Society French (which I borrow from Picone 1998) because it more accurately reflects the time period and social context within which this variety developed. Indeed, it was in large part thanks to the wealth generated by the plantation economy, which did not reach maturity in Louisiana until the nineteenth century (see Chapter 1), that French-speaking immigrants continued to come to Louisiana and that some segments of its population maintained regular links with France and its cultural and linguistic developments. Two important ways that affluent whites and free people of color did this were by sending their children to France for their education or by enrolling them in Louisiana schools where the codified variety of French was the medium of instruction. It was in the early nineteenth century, then, that something resembling emerging Standard French

came to be widely spoken among Louisiana’s elite. During the colonial period, in contrast, when most of Louisiana’s francophone population was illiterate and had its origins in the peasantry and the lower urban classes, it is likely that French dialects and Popular French predominated.5 Although it flourished in the nineteenth century, Plantation Society French underwent rapid decline after the Civil War and is known today to no more than a handful of Louisianans in their eighties and nineties. The label "Cajun French" encompasses a number of speech varieties that differ, sometimes significantly, from region to region. While the main source of these was the dialect brought to Louisiana in the eighteenth century by the Acadians fleeing British repression in Nova Scotia, Cajun is also spoken by people who trace their ancestry directly to France and has been adopted by Louisianans of other origins, as well. The present forms of Cajun appear to have resulted from leveling and reduction that have occurred in Louisiana’s multilingual setting.6 The use of Cajun is today mainly confined to an area stretching west of the Mississippi to the Texas border, often referred to as the francophone triangle, that also encompasses the three zones where Creole is spoken. While the geographical dimensions of the triangle have been variously defined, its angles are usually placed roughly at Avoyelles Parish in the north, Cameron Parish in the southwest, and Lafourche Parish in the southeast.7 Whatever the precise boundaries given to this area, it is generally taken to include the twenty-two parishes that, by virtue of their French heritage, were declared by the Louisiana legislature in 1971 to form the "Heart of Acadiana" (Louisiana Legislature 1971).8 To varying degrees Creole, Cajun, and Plantation Society French have all been displaced by the most widely used language, English. While Plantation Society French has virtually disappeared, Cajun is still spoken by a sizeable, but shrinking, community of Louisianans.9 Determined that the French language should not be given up entirely by its speakers in favor of English, members of the Cajun community

have in the last thirty years mounted a campaign to encourage its continued use in the state. Their efforts were given official expression in 1968 when the State Legislature established the Council for the Development of French in Louisiana, or CODOFIL, whose promotion of Standard French rather than Cajun French initially sparked opposition from those in the Cajun community who were interested in preserving the local variety. More recently, however, CODOFIL has broadened the scope of its activities and now plays a major role in encouraging all forms of French language and culture in Louisiana, including Cajun and, to a lesser extent, Creole. At the same time, some who were once opposed to the organization’s focus on Standard French have tempered their views as this variety has come to be regarded as a vital link between Louisiana’s francophone community and the rest of the francophone world.10 While the long-term success of these efforts remains uncertain, it now seems possible that the decline in the use of French might yet be reversed, an outcome that to many was inconceivable just ten or fifteen years ago. Should this be the case, the important role that Standard French now plays on the Louisiana scene will likely have implications for the kind —or kinds—of French that are spoken there in the future. If the French-related speech varieties that coexist in Louisiana today are viewed as forming a continuum, with Standard French and Creole occupying opposite poles and Cajun lying in between, we might expect to see a gradual shift in the direction of the standard, given its greater prestige and usefulness as a tool of communication with the broader francophone world.11 Speakers of Cajun and Creole who frequently come into contact with speakers of Standard French will likely play some role in this shift, but their numbers are relatively small.12 Perhaps more significant will be the growing numbers of young learners of Standard French who have never been speakers of Cajun or Creole. This trend is already discernible in the findings of a survey conducted jointly by CODOFIL and the University of Southwestern Louisiana among 1,020 residents of Acadiana in the summer of 1990: While an impressive 25.0 percent of respondents under nineteen claimed to be French speakers, only 8.9 percent said

they spoke Cajun French learned at home, as compared with 14.3 percent who spoke Standard French learned in school (Henry 1990).13 The shift toward Standard French does not necessarily imply that Cajun will disappear altogether, of course. After all, a major accomplishment of the French revival movement has been to persuade speakers of Cajun to take pride in the language they were once taught to be ashamed of, and there is still a strong desire within the community to retain a specifically Cajun identity, of which Cajun French is an important component.14 Particularly if the incorporation of elements of Cajun into the French curriculum of the schools, now practiced on a limited scale, becomes more widespread, French in Louisiana can be expected at the very least to retain a distinctly local flavor. While it may no longer be discounted as mere wishful thinking to suggest that language varieties ranging along the continuum between Cajun and Standard French will continue to be used in Louisiana for a long time to come, it seems far less likely that Creole will still be spoken in any recognizable form beyond the next two or three decades. Fluent speakers under the age of sixty are rare and the language is not being passed on to younger generations. Furthermore, as we have seen, the community of Creole speakers today is already small and fragmented into several zones of concentration, each one separated from the others by a considerable distance.15 Paradoxically, at the very moment when the survival of Creole is in doubt, it has come to play an important symbolic role as a marker of a distinct Creole identity that black and mixed-race Creoles have become increasingly interested in expressing and preserving in recent years. Signs of this interest include poetry and other writings in Creole that have been appearing in print since the early 1980s, a series of short lessons in Creole that were published in the early 1990s as a regular column in the Lafayette-based monthly Creole Magazine (now defunct), and a weekly zydeco music show often

hosted in Creole and broadcast on the Lafayette radio station KRVS.16 The group C.R.E.O.L.E., Inc., also based in Lafayette, was constituted several years ago to promote all aspects of Creole culture, including language.17 On the German and Acadian Coasts as well as in the Bayou Teche region, speakers of Creole live in proximity to speakers of Cajun, and it appears they have been shifting away from the Creole pole of the continuum by adopting many Cajun features in their speech (see, for example, Neumann [1985a, 44–81] for St. Martin Parish and Marshall [1987] for the German and Acadian Coasts). Pointe Coupee Parish, in contrast, was never a center for Acadian settlement. Most of the early settlers of the parish came from France (see 3.2). A majority of their descendants, who were small farmers, or habitants, eventually adopted Creole as their language, though in a form somewhat closer to French than was the language of the blacks.18 For this reason the Creole of this zone has existed in relative isolation from Cajun, which, as Neumann (1985a, 21) points out, may explain why it has retained more Creole-like and, in her view, older features than the Creole spoken in the other zones.19 Preliminary research on the Creole spoken in the isolate of St. Tammany Parish, on the North Shore of Lake Pontchartrain, shows that it, too, has retained more basilectal features than those of the other areas.20 The focus of the present study is the grammatical structure of the Creole of Pointe Coupee Parish, which has not previously been examined in depth.21 Based on over 150 hours of recorded interviews with Creole speakers, Part II seeks to provide for the Pointe Coupee variety of Creole the kind of thorough description that Neumann’s landmark work (1985a) provided for the Creole of Breaux Bridge. Each major grammatical structure is illustrated with examples, mostly of sentence length, drawn from the recorded corpus. Throughout, the structures of Pointe Coupee Creole are compared to those of Breaux Bridge Creole as described by Neumann. For selected grammatical features, comparisons are also made with the other French-lexifier creoles. This kind of

documentary and comparative work is essential to understanding the history of Louisiana Creole and its relationship to other varieties of French and to the other French-lexifier creoles of the world.22 While these issues cannot yet be explained with certainty, a good deal of historical and linguistic evidence has surfaced in recent years that makes it possible to formulate plausible hypotheses about the origin and development of Louisiana Creole. In Chapter 2, I examine the fit, or lack thereof, between this evidence and some hypotheses that have been proposed previously. I conclude that Louisiana Creole was not imported from elsewhere but is instead an indigenous language that had its genesis on the plantations bordering the Mississippi and subsequently spread to the other regions where it is still spoken today or was attested in the past. As background to the grammatical study of Part II, Chapter 3 of Part I looks at the demographic and social history of Pointe Coupee Parish and describes its current sociolinguistic situation. Finally, Part III presents excerpts of transcribed conversations with Creole speakers. As examples of extended discourse that allow the language to be observed in a broader context, these are a valuable complement to the sentence-length illustrations of the grammatical description. They also offer a view of traditional social relations and cultural practices in the False River area.

PART I Sociohistorical Background

Chapter 1 Colonial Louisiana OUR UNDERSTANDING OF where Louisiana Creole originated, how it developed, and how it came to be spoken in the several zones of concentration and smaller isolates where it is found today remains sketchy. Nevertheless, based on recent studies of demographics and social relations, as well as documentary evidence of early forms of Creole in Louisiana, it is possible to outline a likely scenario of the language’s development and spread. In this chapter I lay the groundwork for an investigation of the origin of Louisiana Creole by reviewing the exploration and settlement of Louisiana and the changing nature of social relations in the colony throughout the eighteenth century.

1.1 Exploration and Early Settlement of Louisiana The first recorded European contact with the Lower Mississippi Valley was made in 1539, when the expedition led by the Spanish explorer Hernando de Soto marched south along the Mississippi as far as the mouth of the Red River, near the northern tip of what is today Pointe Coupee Parish. Here de Soto fell sick and died, finding his grave at the bottom of the river, where according to legend his men sank his coffin to protect it from the Indians who had harassed them in the course of their journey (Martin 1882, 35–36). The French did not follow in de Soto’s footsteps until 1682, when René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle’s expedition sailed down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico, claiming all of the land they had traversed for France and naming it Louisiana in honor of King Louis XIV. An attempt by La Salle to find the Mississippi again, this time by way of the Gulf, failed, ending in his murder at the hands of his own

men. More successful was the expedition led in 1698 by two Canadian brothers, Pierre le Moyne, Sieur d’Iberville, and JeanBaptiste, Sieur de Bienville, who were able to locate the mouth of the river and sail as far north as the Red River. With the brothers’ establishment of Fort Maurepas near present-day Biloxi, Mississippi, the long and difficult colonization of Louisiana had begun. The original fort was moved to a more favorable site in 1711 and renamed Fort Louis de Mobile. This was followed by the permanent settlements of Natchitoches in 1714, Natchez in 1716, and, most important, in 1718, New Orleans, which quickly became the center of the French colonial presence in Louisiana. The royal government chose in 1712 to turn the responsibility of colonizing this subtropical wilderness over to private hands, granting ownership rights to Antoine Crozat, Marquis de Chatel. At the end of five years Crozat had succeeded in moderately increasing the population (from 400 to 700), but he had accomplished little else in the way of building up the colony and was prepared to relinquish his ownership of it (Taylor [1976] 1984, 7–8). Louisiana was thereupon transferred to John Law’s Company of the West, later called the Company of the Indies, which created a "bubble" of enthusiastic speculation that burst in 1720, forcing Law to flee France. Louisiana remained in possession of the Company of the Indies until 1731, however, when it reverted to the status of a royal colony. During these early years the European population was composed primarily of military personnel, indentured laborers, wage earners, and forced immigrants who had been vagabonds, criminals, or prostitutes in France. Most of these settlers were of urban origin and had neither the inclination nor the competence to produce the agricultural goods needed to sustain the colony. Instead, the French relied crucially on the native population for basic food supplies. The importance of the Indians to French colonization efforts in Louisiana is reflected in the French settlement pattern in the Lower Mississippi Valley. Typically, the French established their military posts and agricultural concessions within a few miles of Indian villages. In many cases the Indian presence predated the French establishment,

but very often the French persuaded Indian groups to relocate to the vicinity of their new posts. Several concessions were established near the existing Tunica settlement north of Pointe Coupee, for example, while the members of the Chitimacha tribe were persuaded to move from their homes on the bayous west of the Mississippi to a location along the river just ten miles south of the newly established Paris-Duvernay concession (Zitomersky 1992, 170–72). Here the Indians served a dual function as suppliers of basic alimentary needs and as buffers protecting the colonists from potentially hostile tribes and the British. The proximity of these Indian communities thus freed the French colonists to pursue their main interests, which were military fortification, commerce, and the cultivation of cash crops. It is important to emphasize that, though there were exceptions, the French generally did not settle in the same villages with the Indians. Instead, the two groups lived in proximity but remained separate from each other, maintaining a symbiotic relationship in which they entered regularly into contact as equals (and this despite the enslavement of Indians, which was practiced on a very limited scale) (Zitomersky 1992). The first numerically significant group of European settlers equipped to produce food for local consumption was the tenant farmers from various parts of Germany and Switzerland who were brought in to work the large concessions that the Company of the Indies granted to individuals prepared to provide the labor and materials necessary for cultivation. "Naturally hard-working and more contented than the French" (Recensement 1724), they were considered the most worthy and capable of the colonists whom the Company of the Indies sent to Louisiana: "Valued for their seriousness, their sense of organization, their enthusiasm for work and their discipline, they were, among all the settlers, the ones who contributed the most effectively to the development of agriculture in the colonies" (Denuzière 1990, 253, my translation). They settled mainly along the Mississippi upstream from New Orleans, and a stretch of river bank in St. John the Baptist Parish is still known as la Côte des Allemands, or the German Coast.1 In 1722 their population was estimated to consist of 330 males and females of all ages, and it

would grow in coming years (Beer 1911, 19). They were vitally important to New Orleans as providers of fresh produce, game, pork, and fish, which they floated downriver in pirogues from their farms to sell in the city (Usner 1992, 200). As would be the case with most immigrant groups who arrived in Louisiana before it was sold to the United States in 1803 and for many years thereafter, these early German-speaking settlers were fully assimilated by the French population. They eventually adopted the French language, and even their names were often Gallicized. Thus today, alongside names like Folse, Himel, Kraemer, Toups, Tregle, and Triche, whose German origin is fairly transparent, we also find names like Oubre (from Huber, but pronounced [ub]) and Labranche (the French rendering of German "Zweig") (Griolet 1986, 34; Taylor [1976] 1984, 11).

1.2 Slaves Of crucial importance to the development of the Creole language was, of course, the slave population. Although it did not attain significant proportions until after 1719, the year in which slave ships from Africa began to arrive, the presence of blacks in the colony was first documented fourteen years earlier, in 1706. That year Iberville, with the aid of his brother Antoine Le Moyne de Châteaugué, had taken 3,178 slaves from the British in a raid on the island of Nevis (Parkvall 1995, 55). According to Higginbo-tham, 6 or more of these were taken to Fort Mobile where they were put into service by Bienville and Châteaugué. The following year saw the baptisms of at least 3 black slaves, all belonging to Bienville: Jean-Baptiste, aged seven; Joseph, aged three; and Antoine Jacemin, who had been born that same year and was the first recorded black born in the Louisiana colony (Higginbotham [1977] 1991, 302; Gould 1996, 29– 30).2 Two years later, in 1709, Bienville succeeded in obtaining some slaves from Havana. Their exact number is not known, but just three years later, in 1712, there were still only 10 blacks in the colony (Hall 1992a, 57–58).

The slave trade from Africa to French Louisiana was brief but intensive. Shipments did not begin until 1719, and they continued in earnest for just twelve years, until 1731. During this period a total of 5,310 Africans were landed in the colony: 1,297 from Juda (also Whydah or Ouidah) on the Gulf of Benin, 3,719 from the Company of the Indies’ Senegalese concession, which comprised a vast area along the west coast between Arguin Island and Sierre Leone, and 294 from Cabinda (Angola) (Hall 1992a, 60).3 After 1731 there was a twelve-year hiatus when no new shipments arrived; then in 1743 the last slave cargo of the French regime brought 190 Africans to Louisiana, also from the Senegalese concession. No additional slaves were imported from Africa until after the Spanish took effective control of the colony in 1769. In all then, 5,500 Africans were brought to Louisiana between 1719 and 1743, of whom 3,909, more than two-thirds, were embarked at the Senegalese concession (Hall 1992a, 60; 1997). While the point of embarkation provides no certain clue as to the specific geographical provenance of the slaves, shipment from the Senegalese concession strongly suggests an origin somewhere in the Senegambian region. In an effort to hasten the transition from subsistence farming to the cultivation of cash crops such as indigo and tobacco, many slaves were distributed among the large planters and small farmers holding lands along the Mississippi. In this early period, however, a significant number were put to work in and around New Orleans building levees, digging ditches and canals, cutting lumber, and performing more skilled work as carpenters, cartwrights, blacksmiths, and even doctors (Hall 1992a, 126). Many were also forced into military service as soldiers, guarding New Orleans and other settlements and fighting in wars against Indian tribes— especially the Natchez and the Chickasaw—who were hostile to the French, or as sailors, bringing supplies to military posts (Hall 1992a, 134).

1.3 Economic Activity and Social Relations The hardships endured by newcomers to the subtropical wilderness of Lower Louisiana were many. Lack of supplies of all kinds, crop failures, famine, and disease reduced Europeans (the tiny ruling elite excepted) and Africans alike to the barest form of existence and made each group dependent on the other, as well as on the Indians, for survival. Their interdependence during these early years necessitated regular and intensive contact among the various segments of the population, which reduced social distances typically linked to race and status and encouraged cultural exchange.4 Pellegrin’s description (1949, 21) of a rigid social hierarchy in early Pointe Coupee must be understood as the "official" version of the social order, which masked a more complex reality: "At the top of the social pyramid were the large landowners. These, of course, had to be in a favored social and economic position in order to receive land grants from the Company of the West. Their representatives, the overseers and supervisors, no doubt were next highest on the social scale, followed by officers of the fort at Pointe Coupee, owners of small holdings, the coureurs de bois, and the soldiers garrisoned at the fort. At the very bottom of the social pyramid, as always, were the Negro slaves." The meaningfulness of the social divisions Pellegrin describes was in fact quite limited during much of the French period, when the colony was still struggling to establish itself. Hall (1992a, 238), also writing about Pointe Coupee, paints a picture of a much more fluid society of Indians, Europeans, and Africans all leading a precarious existence and, in no small measure, bound together by the common need to survive: "Red, white, and black met under crisis conditions. The insecurity of this frontier world created a society in which the three races were deeply dependent upon each other and physical survival was often more important than accumulation of wealth. Racial lines were blurred, and intimate relations among peoples of all

three races flourished. The population of this face-to-face community, living in danger and isolation much of the time, adapted by creating a flexible, permeable world where human talents and abilities were at a premium. Hybrid race, culture, and language were created." The nature of the cultural and linguistic exchange that took place among Indians, colonists, and slaves in Lower Louisiana was shaped by the ways in which they entered into contact. During the early years of the colony in particular, an important setting for regular contact was petty trade, characterized by "small, face-to-face transactions" conducive to cultural exchange (Usner 1992, 198).5 As we have seen, the French typically did not live among the Indians but instead located their settlements near Indian villages in order to have ready access to food supplies and as a buffer against hostile tribes and the British. The colonists gave the Indians imported goods in exchange for food for their own consumption and furs that were shipped off to be sold in Europe. An essential means of survival in the earliest years, the colonists’ widespread practice of trade with the Indians eventually began to interfere with the Company of the Indies’ goal of turning the colony into a profitable agricultural enterprise. General Commissioner Marc-Antoine Hubert complained in 1716 that Louisiana’s settlers "will never be satisfied with this infallible resource [i.e., tilling the soil], accustomed as they are to the trade with the Indians the easy profit from which supports them, giving them what they need day by day like the Indians who find their happiness in an idle and lazy life" (Rowland and Sanders 1929– 1932, 232, quoted in Usner 1992, 41–42). The problem of agricultural labor became somewhat less acute once African slaves began arriving in large numbers in 1719. It was not long, however, before the slaves themselves began engaging in the trade and sale of goods, eventually becoming, along with free people of color, "the most ubiquitous peddlers of food in Lower Mississippi Valley towns" (Usner 1992, 43, 201). Although slaves sometimes sold produce on behalf of their owners, they also marketed goods raised in their own gardens or game and fish they caught, keeping the profits for themselves. Such small-scale farming and marketing of garden

produce was encouraged by owners because it "helped [them] to maintain slaves at a level of subsistence minimizing hardship, death, and rebellion [and] provided consumers with a larger quantity and wider array of foods than would otherwise have been available." There was inherent tension, however, between the advantages these marketing activities held out to owners and the dangerous degree of autonomy they afforded slaves, leading colonial officials to take measures to regulate them more closely (McGowan 1976, 145–46; Usner 1992, 197). Yet such measures could not put an end to petty trade by slaves, which continued to be an important avenue for interaction between blacks, whites, and Indians. While trade activities continued apace, the foundations of a more stable agricultural economy began to be laid in the form of numerous small farms, known throughout the French colonial world as habitations. It was on these modest agricultural units—the essential prelude to large plantations, veritable agro-industrial operations that would not truly take hold in Louisiana until the beginning of the nineteenth century—that the most sustained and intensive contact between Europeans, Africans, and, to a lesser extent, Indians took place in the early years. On the typical habitation, a farmer might live with his wife and children, one or two indentured servants, and perhaps a handful of slaves, if he was fortunate enough to have any at all. For slaves were especially hard to come by in the early eighteenth century, and while some estates had fairly large numbers of them even in the early years, most had just a few or none at all. Father Paul Du Poisson, writing in 1727, described how, with a modest parcel of land granted by the Company of the Indies, a habitant could gradually move from mere subsistence agriculture to the cultivation of cash crops, if he were able to acquire slaves: "A man with his wife or his partner clears a little ground, builds himself a house on four piles, covers it with sheets of bark, and plants corn and rice for his provisions; the next year he raises a little more for food, and has also a field of tobacco; if at last he succeed in having three or four Negroes, then he is out of his difficulties" (Thwaites 1900, 283, quoted in Usner 1992, 155). Although the pattern Du Poisson describes may not have been an unusual one, the transition

from bare subsistence to financial stability was no doubt less smooth for many colonists, especially those who suffered through floods, droughts, disease, and any number of vagaries typical of life in frontier Louisiana. While small farms continued to predominate well into the Spanish period, as early as 1721 several estates along the Mississippi boasted significant numbers of slaves. In New Orleans the only two important slave owners were Trudeau (31 blacks, 1 Indian) and Bienville (27 blacks, 7 Indians), but on either bank ascending the river there was an impressive number of estates with relatively large concentrations of slaves. These included the estates of La freniere (53 blacks, 8 Indians), Kolly (46 blacks, 2 Indians), Dubreuil (43 blacks, 2 Indians), De Lery (33 blacks, 4 Indians), and Beaulieu (30 blacks, 1 Indian).6 Several of these properties were clustered around the village of Chapitoulas, three leagues above New Orleans, which at this early date counted 175 black and 15 Indian slaves as compared to just 32 Europeans (Beer 1911).7 This substantial disproportion in the ratio of slaves to free persons in Chapitoulas would continue for many years. Just five years later, in 1726, the area counted 396 slaves (385 blacks, 11 Indians) and 42 Europeans (including women, children, indentured servants, and soldiers), a ratio of 9.43 slaves to each free person, while in the colony as a whole the ratio was 0.69 to one, and in New Orleans just 0.14 to one (Usner 1992, 48–49). At the same time, other large estates resembled Kolly’s in having more French residents than African slaves. The Law estate below New Orleans, for example, had 40 French servants and no slaves at all, while the neighboring le Blanc estate had 2 slaves and 28 French servants, and the le comte Dartaignan estate near Cannes Bruslées, five leagues above New Orleans, counted 20 black slaves but 58 European men, women, and children (none of whom, however, were listed as servants) (Beer 1911, 14). Table 1 shows the proportions of free people to slaves along selected stretches of the Mississippi in the years 1726 and 1731–1732.

Wealthy planters gradually increased their slaveholdings during the French period. By 1731, for example, Trudeau’s slaveholding had increased to 53, De Lery’s to 68, Bienville’s to 69, Kolly’s to 81, Dubreuil’s to 106, and La freniere’s to 116 (including 4 Indians). Other large slaveholders at this time included the officer Coustillas with 55 slaves (he had had just 13 in 1721), Dartaguiette with 63, Dartaignan with 71, de Mouy with 76 (including 2 Indians), Lange with 97, and Dasfeld with 122. The largest slaveholding of all was that of the Company of the Indies, operated by Le Page, which totaled 230. All together, some twenty-one concessions along the Mississippi possessed 40 slaves or more (Maduell 1972, 114–22), a clear indication that there was already a tendency toward concentrating slaves on the estates of the elite. Within fifteen years, Dubreuil, who served as Entrepreneur Général du Roy, had accumulated some 500 slaves. It would appear that only a portion of these were concentrated on his Chapitoulas plantation, however, since many were employed in public works, probably in New Orleans and other parts of the colony (Clark 1970, 52; Hall 1992b, 77). On these early agricultural units of the Lower Mississippi Valley, the intensity of the African population’s contact with Europeans differed according to the size of the farm and the tasks the slaves were assigned. Among the slaves who found themselves in a substantial majority on the larger farms, those who worked in the fields must have had only occasional contact with French colonists and thus a somewhat limited opportunity to learn their language, while those slaves who were skilled in sugar boiling, brick making, wagon construction, blacksmithing, carpentry, and other specialized tasks enjoyed greater prestige and had more regular contact with the plantation owner or director, his family, or the overseer.8 The slaves who served as domestic servants in the planter’s home had even closer and more regular contact with the dominant class and were surrounded daily by its language and culture. Table 1: Slave and Free Populations Along the Mississippi in 1726 and 1731– 1732

For slaves who worked on the small farms, and particularly on those that owned no more than a few slaves, the contact with French was surely more regular and more intensive than it was for the field hands on the large operations. Here the slaves did not form a significant majority and were in fact often outnumbered by the whites in the household. The latter generally worked alongside the slaves in the field, which tended to break down the social and linguistic barriers between them. Although we have no direct evidence of the

varieties of French to which the slaves were exposed here and elsewhere in the colony, we may be certain that, initially at least, they were very different from Standard French and displayed dialectal features and features typical of Popular French, many of which can be identified as the source for features found in Louisiana Creole today.9 On the small farms, in particular, the slaves were often called upon to perform a wide variety of tasks, some of which, such as helping to transport crops and equipment, required travel away from the farm and thus offered contact with outsiders. Travel away from the farm seems in fact to have been common among Louisiana’s slaves and was made possible by the surprisingly lenient policies toward slave movement and economic activity that prevailed there in the mideighteenth century, as was noted earlier in the discussion of slaves’ commercial activities. When these freedoms led to disturbances, Governor Pierre Vaudreuil sought to restrict them with the police code of 1750, which "was designed specifically to counteract the rising crime rate resulting from slave mobility, property ownership, and ability to engage in commercial transactions with the white community" (McGowan 1976, 145). Slave mobility seems to have been especially great in the early years of the colony. In 1739, for example, it is reported that among the slaves belonging to the king, some made trips as far as Illinois, where they sometimes spent the winter, while others stationed at Balize traveled "fifteen to twenty lieus up the river during seven months out of the year to get provisions for the garrison" (Hall 1992a, 135). But if slave mobility resulted in increased interaction with the white community, it also created new opportunities for establishing wider social networks among the slaves themselves. Marriages between slaves from different farms were not uncommon, and there are frequent reports of slaves who left their plantations at night or on free days to spend time with their lovers. The French traveler C. C. Robin, visiting the colony in the early nineteenth century, offered this description of the men who maintained such relationships: "Sometimes their mistresses live several leagues away. The fatigues

of the day do not prevent them from going to stay the night with her to be back in time for work the next morning. It is no little astonishing that these men enfeebled by difficulty and poor nutrition, are able to continue these nocturnal carouses. Misfortune indeed, for the masters or neighbors who have horses in the charge of these gallants.… I used to hear the galloping of the horses of these lovers all night; coming and going" (Robin 1966, 245, quoted in McGowan 1976, 133). McGowan stresses the important role these "offplantation liaisons" played in shaping Louisiana slave society, for it was through them that "the slaves added a new dimension to the ordering of family and sexual lives, expanding and redefining [the plantation] community beyond the confines of the plantation to satisfy their own needs rather than their masters’" (1976, 134). Slaves also left their plantations to join in group social events such as dances and religious gatherings. The bal tambour, or drum dance, also widely known in Saint-Domingue, was a feature of black society in Louisiana into the twentieth century.10 Such assemblies of slaves came to be seen as a threat to the masters’ authority, as well as to the safety of white society in general, and Vaudreuil’s police code was also directed against them. It laid down severe penalties for planters who failed to confine their slaves to their own plantations and to prevent outside slaves from making visits to their estates for assemblies of any kind (McGowan 1976, 149). Despite these prohibitions, slaves continued to congregate, and their gatherings contributed to the growth of a distinct African American culture in the colony. In the Louisiana of 1750, then, slaves moved in several different worlds. On one hand, there was the world of their farm, where they were likely to have regular and intensive contact with whites if they were part of a small slaveholding, engaged in skilled labor, or employed in the master’s house and much less contact if they were part of a field gang on a larger plantation. On the other hand, there was the world outside the farm, to which many slaves, perhaps even a majority, had access. Here there was further interaction with white society, in particular the lower class, through legal and illegal

commercial activities.11 At the same time, there was the opportunity of association with the wider black community in personal relationships as well as in large gatherings that encouraged the expression of a separate cultural identity. With regard to linguistic developments, the possibility of movement between white and black society in the ways just described meant that many slaves were likely to have considerable exposure to French—whether it was the French of their master and his family, that of their overseer, or that of the poor whites they did business with—and yet ample opportunity to practice forms of communication that bound blacks together as a group and affirmed their distinctness from white society. (These issues are examined further in 2.2.) Finally, a crucially important context for contact between slaves and whites was mixed couples consisting of a black (or Indian) woman and a white man, be it her owner or another colonist. It is hardly surprising that white men took slaves as mistresses, given the disproportionately large ratio of European men to women in the early years. Among the European population living on the lower Mississippi in 1721, for example, there were 293 adult males but only 140 adult females (155 domestiques français are also listed, but this number is not broken down by sex) (Beer 1911, 15).12 Such relations, initiated by force or by mutual consent, were sometimes fleeting, but they were very often enduring, as is attested by evidence of interracial marriage in New Orleans as early as 1723 (Hall 1992a, 128). When they remained slaves, the mixed-race offspring of these unions usually enjoyed a superior status to that of slaves of pure African descent, serving as overseers and in other positions of responsibility and authority. Often, however, these women and the children they bore were freed by their owners, thus becoming a major source for the population of gens de couleur libres, or free people of color, who make their first documented appearance in Mobile in 1715 and in New Orleans seven years later (Gould 1996, 31; Hall 1992a, 129). Their ranks grew rapidly as increasing numbers of slaves were manumitted by various means and for various reasons. A slave could, for example, be freed by his

or her master as a reward for faithful service or military duty or simply because the master had great affection for the slave. Alternatively, a slave or a third party was sometimes able to gather up sufficient resources to purchase the slave’s freedom.13 The free people of color, many of whom owned land and slaves or exercised skilled trades, came to form a distinct and important class in Louisiana society that jealously guarded its separate identity. This did not, however, prevent some, called passés blanc or passent à blanc, from blending into white society.14 More recently the opposite phenomenon has occurred as many "Creoles" have made a conscious decision to integrate themselves into black America. To this day, however, many retain a keen sense of their unique heritage, which they express by proudly calling themselves Creoles and vigorously rejecting the appellation "African American."15 When shipments of slaves from Africa ceased for twelve years between 1731 and 1743, a fairly high birth rate was offset by a comparably high mortality rate, resulting in the stagnation of the slave population. In 1741 commissaire ordinateur Salmon estimated that there were "4,000 blacks of all types and ages" in the colony, scarcely more than the 3,640 blacks recorded nine years earlier in settlements along the lower Mississippi (Maduell 1972, 113, 123).16 Of these 4,000, Salmon estimated that two-thirds were Creoles, meaning that the colony had "a young [slave] population, born in and acclimated to Louisiana" (Hall 1992a, 175). Aside from 190 Africans who disembarked on Louisiana’s shores in 1743 and the occasional slaves, documented or not, brought in from the Caribbean or the North American colonies, it was these (approximately) 2,640 Creoles, 1,360 Africans, and their offspring who would make up Louisiana’s slave force until the African slave trade resumed under Spanish rule. In 1766, four years after the official transfer of Louisiana to Spain, the slave population of the lower colony (not including the posts of St. Louis and St. Genevieve) had grown by about 1,800 to 5,799 out of a total population of 11,410 (Rodríguez 1979, 413, cuadro 1.2 A; 438, cuadro 1.8 A). Since the vast majority of this growth must have been due to natural increase, it is safe to assume that Creoles represented a significantly greater proportion of

the slave force than they had in 1741 (see Usner 1992, 108 for a similar view).

1.4 Population Growth in the Spanish Period 1.4.1 EUROPEANS In 1762, one year before the Treaty of Paris put an official end to the French and Indian War, France transferred Louisiana to its ally, Spain, by the Treaty of Fountainebleau. One reason for the transfer was to compensate Spain for its imminent loss of Florida to England, but another was to prevent France from having to further subsidize what had always been a financially burdensome colony. The first Spanish governor, Don Antonio de Ulloa, did not arrive in Louisiana until 1766, and when he did, he was quickly expelled by a group of rebellious colonists dissatisfied with his restrictive trade policies. Spanish power was not firmly established until Governor Alejandro O’Reilly reached New Orleans in 1769 with 2,000 troops and demonstrated his seriousness of purpose by having the leaders of the rebellion executed (Taylor [1976] 1984, 20–22). Once in place, the Spanish administration proved much more effective than the French had been in populating the colony and in encouraging its economic development. Within twenty years of its transfer to Spain, Louisiana had tripled in population, and commercial activity was growing rapidly (Usner 1992, 112ff.); by 1803 the population had mushroomed to approximately fifty thousand, and the colony was well on its way to developing a true plantation economy based primarily on the cultivation of cotton and sugar cane. Yet for all their success in advancing the colony, the Spanish did not leave a strong cultural or linguistic imprint on Louisiana, which remained resolutely French in character. The main reason for this

was that few Spanish-speaking immigrants were brought in during Spanish rule. The largest contingent were the Isleños, approximately 2,500 inhabitants of the Canary Islands who immigrated to Louisiana mainly between 1778 and 1780, though more arrived in subsequent years. Many Isleños settled in St. Bernard Parish, while two other groups founded New Iberia on Bayou Teche and Valenzuela on Bayou Lafourche (Usner 1992, 110; Holloway 1997, 1); some Isleños also settled in Galvestown near Baton Rouge.17 They appear to have either assimilated to the French-speaking population or, as in the case of the St. Bernard Parish Isleños, remained sufficiently isolated that they had no lasting effect on the linguistic situation in Louisiana.18 Far more significant in this regard was the arrival of between 2,600 and 3,000 Acadian exiles in several waves after 1755, the year they were expelled from Nova Scotia by the British.19 Before making their way to Louisiana, most of the Acadians spent several years in exile in places as diverse as Cayenne, Saint-Domingue, England, France (in particular the Poitou region, which had provided many of the original Acadian settlers in Nova Scotia), and the American colonies of Pennsylvania and Maryland. None of these places, not even France, proved suitable to the Acadians, and eventually news of available land and a sympathetic administration, along with a desire to reconstitute themselves in extended family groups, persuaded many of them to set out for Louisiana. Quick to recognize the promise that these experienced, hard-working farmers held out for advancing the colony’s development, the Spanish administration gave them a warm welcome and provided them with land and supplies to help them establish their farms.20 Settling primarily along the Mississippi between New Orleans and Baton Rouge (hence the "Acadian Coasts" of the Mississippi), along Bayou Lafourche and, farther west, along Bayou Teche, the Acadians greatly increased the French-speaking population of the colony. Their influence was all the more significant because they formed an unusually cohesive group that tended to assimilate other ethnicities, so that today, in addition to typically Acadian names like Arceneaux, Brasseaux, Landry, and Thibodeaux, one finds "Cajuns" with names like Miller, Schexnayder,

Usea, and Gonzalez. In future years they would resist the pressures of American language and culture much more successfully than the descendants of the original French colonists, and they remain today Louisiana’s largest francophone population. Anglo-American planters and small farmers were another important source of population growth. It may be said, in fact, that the Anglicizing of Louisiana began during this period. As Taylor ([1976] 1984, 26) points out, the significant Anglophone presence that established itself in the colony facilitated the Americanization of Louisiana after its purchase by the United States. These newcomers settled east of the Mississippi in West Florida, which the British had obtained by the Treaty of Paris in 1763. Approximately one-third of them left, however, when Spain acquired the territory in 1783 (Usner 1992, 112–13). Some were royalists who brought with them substantial wealth and, very often, English-speaking slaves who helped to spread this language among Louisiana’s Creole and African blacks.

1.4.2 RE-AFRICANIZATION UNDER SPANISH RULE Indeed, the slave population increased dramatically during the Spanish period. The largest group to enter the colony was not, however, English speakers from the British colonies but Africans. Several years ago, Hall noted that it was difficult to arrive at reliable figures for the importation of slaves because Spanish census records are imprecise and the territory covered by them varies from year to year (Hall 1992a, 277). Furthermore, the documentation of the Spanish slave trade was much less thorough than that of the French slave trade, making it difficult to arrive at more than a general idea of the origins of most of the slaves brought to Louisiana during Spanish rule (Hall 1992a, 279). Still, the rise in the colony’s slave population during that period was so substantial and so rapid—it climbed from 4,598 in 1763 to 24,264 in 1800 (Hall 1992a, 279, fig.

8)—that Hall believed it could be explained "Neither [by] natural increase nor the importation of slaves from other parts of the Americas" alone but must have been due in large part to significant numbers of slaves brought from Africa (Hall 1992a, 278–79). Thanks to Hall’s efforts since that time (Hall 2000b), our understanding of slavery during Spain’s rule has improved considerably. In fact, we now have a much clearer picture of the ethnic composition of Louisiana’s slave population than for almost any former slave colony.21 Her careful examination of all documents relevant to slavery in Louisiana turned up data on 26,364 slaves during the Spanish period.22 For 14,406 of these (54.6 percent) some origin is specified, and the figures bear out her earlier claim of a very strong African presence: fully 7,981, or 55.4 percent, are identified as Africans. The Creoles are second in numerical importance, representing 5,366, or 37.2 percent, of all slaves whose origin is identified. Slaves from English-speaking regions remain a small minority at 604, or 4.2 percent. Slaves from Senegambia continue to make up a substantial portion of Africans, though they are no longer in the majority as they were during the French period. Of the 7,981 slaves identified as Africans, 1,699, or 21.3 percent, appear in documents with designations pointing to an origin in the Senegambian region. These include 459 Manding, 304 Wolof, 260 Bambara, 112 Pulaar, and 90 Nard.23 At the same time, there is a marked increase in the number of slaves from other regions, especially the Bight of Benin (including 321 Mina, 251 Chamba, 237 Yoruba, and 133 Fon), the Bight of Biafra (including 242 Ibo and 79 Calabar), and Central Africa (including 1,060 Congo). While the accuracy of these designations by nations is subject to debate (see 2.2), it is not unreasonable to assume that they reveal at least the broad outlines of the origins of Louisiana’s African slave population. In contrast to the large numbers of Africans and Louisiana Creoles, relatively few slaves of Caribbean origin are identified in Spanishperiod documents. In all, the documents list just 374 Caribbean

slaves, a mere 2.6 percent of all slaves with a specified origin. We can be fairly certain, however, that more Caribbean slaves were being brought into Louisiana than these numbers would suggest. Indeed, strong indirect evidence for their presence comes in the form of prohibitions against their importation into Louisiana. These measures were inspired by fears that the Caribbean blacks, who were reputed to be insubordinate, would foment rebellion among Louisiana’s slave population. In 1763 an interdiction was passed against the importation of slaves from Saint-Domingue and, though it was lifted in 1777, in 1786 it was reinstated and extended to slaves from all of the French and British islands (Hall 1992a, 279; Kilman 1972, 65). Such measures could only have been deemed necessary if the importation of slaves from these regions was already being practiced, and, indeed, in declaring his ban on them Governor Esteban Miro explained: "[E]xperience has shown that the admission of blacks born in the French or British Antilles is an ill for this province. It is necessary to put up a serious barrier against them and I order the merchants to stop bringing them in" (quoted in Debien and Le Gardeur 1981, 23, my translation). While it is certain that some Caribbean slaves continued to be smuggled into Louisiana even after the ban, they never constituted more than a small fraction of the total slave population during the Spanish period.24 During the 1790s Louisiana began taking in refugees from the revolution in Saint-Domingue, and despite the 1786 ban and subsequent renewals of it, many fleeing planters were able to bring slaves with them (Debien and Le Gardeur 1981, 23ff.). Between 1,000 and 2,000 refugees arrived in the period from 1791 to 1804, and in 1810 an article in Le Moniteur de la Louisiane noted the arrival in New Orleans of 3,226 slaves, 3,102 persons of color (presumably free), and 2,731 whites since the previous year (Debien and Le Gardeur 1981, 132).25 While a few of these immigrants settled in rural areas, the vast majority remained in New Orleans (see 2.4). It is likely that all of the slaves and most, if not all, of the free persons arriving from Saint-Domingue spoke the Creole of that colony as a first or second language. The free population and many of the slaves also spoke French. The main effect of the immigrants

from Saint-Domingue was, then, to reinforce considerably the French- and creole-speaking populations of New Orleans. Given that the New Orleans population was already made up of whites, slaves, and free people of color, however, their arrival did not radically change relations among these groups. "In general, the settlement of Saint-Domingue refugees in New Orleans added members to all three racial castes in the city without altering significantly the proportion of each in the population as a whole, nor the nature of race relations in a three-caste society" (Lachance 1992, 278). (The possible influence of the Saint-Domingue immigrants on Louisiana’s linguistic situation is considered in 2.4.)

1.4.3 GEOGRAPHIC DISTRIBUTION OF THE SLAVE POPULATION As was the case during the French regime, the distribution of slaves throughout the Spanish colony was uneven. The largest concentrations continued to be found along the lower stretches of the Mississippi, and consequently, these were the areas that showed the greatest disproportions of slaves to free people (see Table 2). By far the largest concentration of slaves was at Chapitoulas, where in 1788 they numbered 6,018. This was nearly three times their number in New Orleans, which had the second largest concentration. In third and fourth places came Bas du Fleuve, with 1,883 slaves and 505 free persons, and Pointe Coupee, with 1,492 slaves and 512 free persons. Areas previously unsettled or only sparsely settled also began to show modest concentrations of population, both slave and free. The Attakapas district, encompassing what is today the demographic center of Creolespeaking Louisiana, had counted only 24 slaves and 138 free persons in 1766, but by 1788 its population had grown to 2,451, of whom 1,039 were slaves and 1,502 were free. Just to the north, the

Opelou-sas district counted 1,007 free inhabitants and 651 slaves. Table 2 tracks changes in population and ratios of slaves to free persons in selected portions of the colony between 1731 and 1788. One important population group left out of the discussion so far are the Indians, who, except for the occasional Indian slave, are not represented in census counts from the period. Usner estimates, however, that by the mid-1780s there were for the first time approximately as many colonists as Indians in lower Louisiana. This rough parity in population constituted "a significant demographic watershed," for henceforth the growth of the white population would quickly outpace that of the Indian (Usner 1992, 115).

Conclusion Between its founding as a French colony in 1699 and its transfer to Spain in 1762, Louisiana witnessed the creation of a new society based on violence and coercion, to be sure, but also on cultural and linguistic accommodation among peoples of European, African, and Indian origin. The negotiation of cultural differences, necessary for survival in a subtropical wilderness, was facilitated by the regular, face-to-face contact among Louisiana’s inhabitants in the colony’s early phase, when the economy was based largely on subsistence farming and petty trade. Under Spanish rule in the late eighteenth century, the development of a plantation economy based on slave labor brought with it a significant re-Africanization of Louisiana’s population and crucial changes in social relations, especially among Creole slaves and those newly arrived from Africa. It was the social structures set in place during the French period and the transformations they underwent during the Spanish reign that set the stage for the development of a Creole language in Louisiana.

Table 2: Ratio of Slaves to Free Persons, 1731–1788

Chapter 2 The Development of Louisiana Creole HAVING ESTABLISHED THE sociohistorical setting that made possible the development of a Creole language in Louisiana, we may now more directly address the questions of where, when, and how Louisiana Creole came into being. It has sometimes been said, and the claim may still be heard today, that the Creole language was imported to Louisiana from Saint-Domingue by the flood of refugees who arrived in the newly acquired American territory during the first decade of the nineteenth century, as described above.1 It stands to reason that the influx of as many as 7,000 speakers of SaintDomingue Creole had an impact on the linguistic situation in Louisiana. There is overwhelming evidence, however, that a Creole language existed in Louisiana prior to the wave of immigration from Saint-Domingue.2

2.1 Evidence from Early Texts One type of evidence comes from a linguistic comparison of Haitian and Louisiana Creole. Neumann (1985b) has shown that early Haitian Creole and nineteenth-century Louisiana Creole did not share a significant number of features that were not also common to other French-lexifier creoles of the Caribbean and that the features they did share exclusively "do not point to an especially close relationship" between the two languages (1985b, 95, my translation). The most significant features shared by early Haitian Creole and Louisiana Creole include the preverbal tense and aspect markers ape (progressive), va/a/ale (future), and sre/se (conditional); the postposed plural marker -ye (Louisiana) / -yo (Haitian); differentiation of subject and object forms for the 1 and 2 sg. pronouns (mo vs. mwa/mwe and to vs. twa/twe); and use of the particle ken/kin for the

possessive pronoun (e.g., Louisiana Creole mokèn and northern Haitian Creole kin-a-m ‘mine’). Neumann notes that the preverbal conditional marker se, post-posed plural markers, and differentiated subject and object forms for the 1 and 2 sg. pronouns have all either been attested in earlier stages of other Caribbean Creoles or continue to be used in one or more of them today and are thus not evidence of Louisiana Creole’s origin as an offshoot of Haitian Creole. Neither can the progressive marker ape constitute such evidence, for while it is not used in any other Caribbean Creole, it is found in the French-lexifier creoles of the Indian Ocean. That leaves only the possessive particle as a feature linking Louisiana Creole and Haitian Creole in opposition to the other French-lexifier creoles. Neumann goes on to note differences in the two languages that further argue against a close relationship between them. The first is the possessive adjective, which in nineteenth-century Haitian texts consistently takes the form Noun + à + Pronoun (café à li ‘his coffee’ rade à nou ‘our harbor’ [Ducoeurjoly 1802, 388, 357, cited in Neumann 1985b, 87]), but in Louisiana Creole is expressed by a set of prenominal forms (mo, to, so, nou/nouzòt, vou/vouzòt, ye).3 A second difference is in the placement of the negative particle pa, which always occupies initial position in the verb phrase in Haitian and the other French-lexifier creoles of the Caribbean, but in Louisiana Creole comes after the preverbal markers te, sa, and se but before the markers ap(e) and ale.4 Finally, whereas Haitian has numerous and varied serial verbs, Louisiana Creole only has a few constructions that, though they resemble serial verbs, are subject to greater restrictions than in Haitian and other Creoles that have ‘true’ serial verbs. In Louisiana Creole, for example, the constructions always consist of one of the motion verbs kouri, vini, or, more rarely, parti followed by a second verb. Typically the meaning of the first verb is significantly weakened and often cannot be translated (mo pa wa ler li vini rive ‘I didn’t see when he came’) (Neumann 1985b, 98, my translation). In other cases the two verbs simply express a sequence of separate actions, one of which immediately follows the other (la fiy vini reste avek mon isi ‘The girl came to stay with me here’) (Neumann 1985b, 98, my translation). Never does the verb of

motion follow the main verb, as occurs in other Creoles, and never do these constructions in Louisiana Creole resemble those in other Creoles where "the two [verbs] are of equal importance and are to be seen as a lexical and semantic unit, as is the case with idiomatic verbal series such as pòté viré ‘bring back’ in HC [Haitian Creole]" (Neumann 1985b, 99, my translation).5 More conclusive even than this comparative evidence is documentary evidence consisting of early language samples and an eighteenth-century reference to Creole in Louisiana. The earliest samples, it must be acknowledged, are of dubious authenticity. Their author is Le Page du Pratz, a Frenchman who served as director of the Company of the Indies in Louisiana for several years and later published a book about his experiences there. One sample he provides is, as Marshall points out, not a direct quote but an utterance fabricated by du Pratz "based on what he has heard his slaves say" (Marshall 1989, 31). It is also worth noting that du Pratz published his work more than twenty years after leaving Louisiana, so that the exactness of his recollections may be doubted. The sentence reads: Monsu, Negre mian mian boucou trabail boucou; quand Negre tenir bon Maître, Negre veni bon, ‘Sir, when a Negro is well nourished, he works well; and when a Negro has a good master, he becomes good’ (Le Page du Pratz 1758, 1:349–50, quoted in Marshall 1989, 31). This differs rather significantly from modern-day Louisiana Creole, particularly in the use of the lexical items mian mian ‘eat’ and tenir ‘have,’ which today are expressed by manje and gen, respectively.6 In the second example, du Pratz claims to be quoting his overseer Samba, himself a slave, whom he supposedly caught organizing a conspiracy to revolt in 1731. That his faulty memory caused du Pratz to date the events surrounding the conspiracy in 1730, a year before they actually occurred, does little to inspire confidence in the accuracy of his quotations.7 For what they are worth, the two sentences du Pratz quotes from Samba are Qui cila qui dire cila à toi? ‘Who told you that?’ and M. le Page li diable li sabai tout ‘M. Le Page is a devil, he knows everything’ (Le Page du Pratz 1758, 3:304–17, quoted in Hall 1992a, 110). While it is possible that this represents some early form of Louisiana Creole,

note that in the modern language the verb kone ‘know’ is used to the exclusion of sabe (or save, as found in Martinican Creole, for example) and that the indirect object typically appears before the direct object, unaccompanied by a preposition; the expected form of the question Qui cila qui dire cila à toi? would today be Sa-ki di twa sa? or Ki di twa sa? A lengthier and much more significant set of language samples appears seventeen years after these events, in the transcript of a murder trial that took place in New Orleans in January of 1748 (Records of the Superior Council).8 In this trial the slave Charlot dit Kakaracou was accused of having stabbed a French soldier to death in a dispute over trapping starlings on land belonging to Monsieur Raguet, Charlot’s master. Charlot, who was in his early twenties (he did not know his age) and was not baptized, initially identified himself as being of the Coneda nation, doubtless because both of his parents, who were also slaves of Raguet, were Africans of that nation (Hall 1992a, 176). Yet he was in fact a Creole and is later identified as such in the transcript (Interrogation of Charlot dit Kakaracou, January 8, 1748). The soldier was discovered alive but gravely wounded. While still conscious he said he would reveal the identity of his attacker, but he died before doing so. Charlot and a number of other slaves, both Creoles and Africans, were interrogated. Charlot at first denied the charges but later confessed when confronted with the incriminating testimony of fellow slaves. Once he had been convicted and sentenced to be broken on the wheel, he implicated Pierrot, a Bambara slave, as his accomplice, but Pierrot denied any involvement. (For a more detailed account of this fascinating trial, see Hall 1992a, 176–79.) In what appears to have been an exceptional practice, the clerk of court transcribed portions of the slaves’ testimony in direct discourse. In other instances, the testimony is recorded in what is, syntactically, indirect discourse (for example, it is introduced by the conjunction que and first-person pronouns are changed to thirdperson pronouns), yet certain lexical items and grammatical structures that deviate from Standard French are used, suggesting

that the clerk intended to record at least some of the actual words of the slave witnesses. Below I have listed all such utterances that I was able to find in the transcript of the trial, along with whatever relevant background information the transcript contained. In particular, I have sought to determine in so far as possible whose words are being quoted and by whom. For some utterances I have included surrounding text that provides important context. All portions of text that are in direct discourse or that appear to contain words actually uttered by slave witnesses are placed in italics. The utterances are listed in the order of their appearance in the documents. I have presented them as they occur here, without adding any punctuation.9 Words or letters that I could not make out with certainty appear in square brackets. The first two utterances come from the testimony of Joseph, a tenyear-old Creole slave belonging to Dubreuil. In (1), Joseph is apparently quoting the slave Cupidon who confronts the French soldier for shooting the starlings caught in the trap that he, Cupidon, has set: (1)… que ce francois ayant tiré sur les etourneaux qui alloien[t] sous les trapes du negre de M. Raguet […] negre lui di [d une?] fois a ce blanc pourquoy toy [tirer] sur les etourneaux qui vont sous ma trape ‘That this Frenchman having shot at the starlings that went under the traps of M. Raguet’s Negro [this?] Negro said to him [at once], to this white man, "Why are you shooting at the starlings that go under my trap?" (Interrogation of Joseph, January 4, 1748, quatrième page) In (2) Joseph quotes the Frenchman’s retort to Cupidon: (2) que le francois repondit au negre [par? ce que desert] est a toy [ne tee] pas a M. Raguet qui est tout ce quil a dit scavoir ‘that the Frenchman answered the Negro ["because the field is yours is it not M. Raguet’s?"] which is all he said that he knew.’ (Ibid.) Utterance (3) comes from the testimony of Claude, a slave who is about eleven years old and belongs to Dubreuil. Claude quotes the

French soldier as he proposes to Claude and his fellow slave Joseph (and to a third slave?) that they join him in going to hunt starlings: (3)… leur dit venez avec moy je[men] vais [tirer? tuer?] des etourneaux vous les ramasserez et je vous en donnerez pour vous ‘[the French soldier] told them, "Come with me, I’m going to shoot starlings. You will gather them up and I’ll give some of them to you."’ (Interrogation of Claude, January 4, 1748, cinquieme page) In (4) Claude gives what appears to be a second version of the quote of Cupidon given in (1): (4)… [que comme] le francois [mettoit] son fusil [enj…] pour tirer sous le trape [led.] Cupidon luy cria [vu tre? veux tu?] laisser la notre trape pourquoy [tire tu] sous [notre] trape que cela nempecha pas le petit francois de tirer sous la trape ‘(that as) the Frenchman (pointed his shotgun?) to shoot under the trap, the said Cupidon shouted at him "(Why don’t you) leave our trap there, why (are you shooting) under our trap?"’ (Ibid.) Utterance (5) is the clerk of court’s rendering of Kakaracou’s denial that a knife found at the scene of the murder belonged to him. While it is not in direct discourse—it is introduced by the conjunction qu(e) —it contains the Creole-like verb gagné ‘to have,’ suggesting that the recorder was sticking close to Kakaracou’s own words. (5) […] sil connoit led. couteau a repondu quil ne connoitpoint ce couteau quil na pas encore gagné couteau depuis quil est dans le monde ‘[asked] if he knows the said knife answered that he does not know this knife and that he has never had a knife in this world (lit., since he has been in the world).’ (Interrogation of Charlot dit Kakaracou, January 5, 1748, cinquième page) The next utterance is made by the witness Pluton, an African of the Devon nation and aged approximately fifty. He quotes himself questioning Charlot about his absence during dinner:

(6) Ou toy courir Charlot pendant que nous diner ‘Where did you go, Charlot, while we were eating?’ (Interrogation of Pluton, January 6, 1748, troisième page) Pluton then quotes Charlot’s reply to his question: (7) Jay ete dans le bois pour voir s’il n’y avoit pas des etournaux [pris] a mes atrapes ‘I was in the woods to see if there weren’t any starlings [caught] in my traps.’ (Ibid.) Seeing Charlot’s muddied clothing, Pluton then asks him: (8) Qui toy tuer Charlot ‘What [Whom?]10 did you kill, Charlot?’ (Ibid., quatrième page) Charlot, again quoted by Pluton, answers: (9) Moy na rien tué ‘I didn’t kill anything.’ (Ibid.) Charlot was wearing his shirt inside out, apparently in an effort to hide the blood stains on it. Seeing this, his mother, identified as an African of the Coneda nation, asks him why he is wearing it in this way. Overheard by Pluton, she is quoted by him in his testimony: (10) Comment, bougre, pourquoy tourner ton chemise comme ca ‘Hey, fellow, why are you turning your shirt like that [lit., How, fellow, why turn your shirt like that]?’ (Ibid., cinquième page) Apparently upon hearing the groans of the wounded Frenchman, Raguet’s slave Laurent, who serves as commandeur of his master’s other slaves (and is thus almost certainly a Creole, though this is not specified), asks Pluton (by whom he is quoted): (11) Qu’est-ce que j’entends ‘What do I hear?’ (Ibid., sixième page) Pluton replies: (12) Je pense que c’est une vache quifaire comme cela ‘I think that it’s a cow that makes that noise [lit., that makes like that].’ (Ibid.)

They go to investigate, however. Upon discovering the wounded soldier, Pluton cries out: (13) [La] voila un grand malheur, un francois blessé ‘Here is a great misfortune, a wounded Frenchman!’ (Ibid.) Pluton then quotes the field slaves, who did not want to touch the wounded man. The first clause, in the words of the clerk of court, introduces Pluton’s quote of the field slaves: (14) Les nègres du desert dirent, il ne faut pas mettre la main la dessus ‘The field Negroes said, "You must not put your hands on him."’ (Ibid.) After the attack (but before the dying soldier has been discovered), Charlot returns to work, but he is distracted, and rather than working, he keeps looking around. Pluton notices this and says to him: (15) Quelle maniere est cela, travaille donc ‘What kind of behavior is this [lit., what way is this], work, then!’ (Ibid.) Another witness to be interrogated is Joseph, another slave of M. Raguet, who is approximately eighteen and a "Creole of this land" (Creolle du pays). Joseph quotes M. Raguet, who gave him the knife that is thought to have been the murder weapon, as asking him: (16) Qu’est-ce que tu fais de ce mauvais couteau ‘What are you doing [did you do?] with that damaged knife?’ (Interrogation of Joseph, January 6, 1748, doc. 2, cinquième page) The next utterance comes during the interrogation of Charlot, the accused, but it is not entirely clear to whom it is to be attributed. It appears to have been uttered by the interrogator, who quotes to Charlot a question that Pluton, in his testimony, claimed to have put to him (Charlot): (17) D’ou toy venir ‘Where are you coming from?’ (Interrogation of Charlot dit Kakaracou, January 8, 1748, deuxième page)

The prosecutor confronts Charlot with three further questions from Pluton’s testimony, two of them, (18) and (19), asked by Pluton and the other, (20), asked by Charlot’s mother. Note that while (18) and (19) conform to Standard French, (20) deviates from it in important ways. (18) Interrogé sy Pluton ne luy a pas dit, quest-ce que tu as tüé, que tu as ton habits comme cela ‘Asked if Pluton had not said to him, "What did you kill, that you have your clothing turned like that?"’ (Ibid., troisième page) (19) Interrogé sy en allant au travail sa mere ne luy dit pas pourquoy bougre [mets] tu ta chemise comme cela quelle maniere est cela ‘Asked if when going to work his mother did not say to him, "Why, fellow, do you (wear?) your shirt like that, what way is that?"’ (Ibid., quatrième page, cinquième page) (20) Interrogé sy lorsquil etoit occupé a regarder Pluton ne luy dit pas quelle maniere est cela pourquoy toy pas travaille[r/s], travaille ‘Asked if, when he was busy looking around, Pluton did not say to him, "What kind of behavior is that [lit., what way is that], why aren’t you working, work!"’ (Ibid., cinquième page) Charlot himself then testifies about what happened. In (21) he tells what he said to the French soldier during a struggle in which the soldier was biting his finger, and in (22) he quotes the soldier’s reply. (21) Veux tu laisser aller mon doigt tu me coupe mon doit, ‘"Would you let go of my finger, you’re cutting my finger,"’ (22) a quoy le petit français luy repondit, [?] je ne te laisseray pas comme cela Bougre ‘to which the little Frenchman answered him, " [?] I won’t let you go like that, fellow."’ (Ibid., septième page) Charlot’s testimony then backs up to the events that led to the struggle. In (23) Charlot quotes the soldier’s proposal to him that they go together to gather starlings.

(23) a repondu que Comme il alloit voir ses trapes qui sont dans le bois, le petit francois luy dit Viens ramasser des etournaux avec moy ‘(Charlot) answered that as he was going to see about his traps that are in the woods, the little Frenchman said to him, "Come gather starlings with me."’ (Ibid., huitième page) The situation then grew tense when Charlot turned down the proposal. (24) il luy repondit que non quil alloit voir ses trapes a quoy le francois luy dit, [h]ebien va te faire foutre ‘He answered that no, that he was going to see about his traps, to which the Frenchman replied [lit., said to him], "Go get fucked!"’ (Ibid., huitième page, neuvième page) (Charlot is quoting the soldier’s words.) (25) que luy luy dit pourquoy toy jurer contre moy comme cela Monsieur ‘(he answered that) he (Charlot) said to him (the soldier), "Why do you swear at me like that, Sir?"’ (Ibid., neuvième page) (26) Le petit francois luy dit, Va ten foutu bougre et savanca contre luy pour le [bourer] ‘The little Frenchman said to him, "Get out of here, fucker!" and came toward him to [hit] him.’ (Ibid.) (27) que meme il luy donna un coup de bourade sous le bras gauche en luy disant Bougre si je te revois je te tireray un coup de fusil ‘(Charlot answered) that he (the soldier) even struck him under the left arm, saying to him, "Man, if I see you again I’ll shoot you with a rifle."’ (Ibid.) (28) qualors il luy dit Est-ce que je ne suis pas sur mon terrain a mon maitre quest-ce que vous voulez me dire ‘(Charlot answered) that then he (Charlot) said to him (the soldier), "Am I not on my master’s land [lit., my land of my master’s]? What do you mean to tell me?"’ (Ibid.) Realizing that his fate is sealed and that he will be put to death for his crime, Charlot now implicates Pierrot, a Bambara slave, as his accomplice. Although he is African, Pierrot, unlike Charlot, is

baptized. He is approximately forty-five years old and serves as cowherd for M. Bellisle. (29) que revenant de ses trapes du fond du desert il a trouvé un negre vacher de M. Bellisle nommé Pierrot, qu’il luy dit Viens avec moy il y a un petit francois qui ma cherchè dispute, nous irons a la cabanne nous trouverons des patates pour manger [que y] revenant ensemble ils on trouvé le meme francois et luy on tous les deux tombé dessus ‘(Charlot declared that) returning from his traps at the back of the field he found a negro cowherd named Pierrot, that he told him, "Come with me, there’s a little Frenchman who picked a fight with me, we’ll go to the cabin, we’ll find some potatoes to eat," [that] returning [there] together they found the same Frenchman and both fell upon him.’ (Declaration [du] negre Charlot dit Kakaracou, January 10, 1748, première page, deuxième page) Charlot goes on to claim that he only held the soldier’s feet while Pierrot delivered the fatal blows with the knife. Pierrot denies Charlot’s charges and claims to have had nothing to do with the soldier’s murder. Charlot then accuses Pierrot of lying. Just before the following passage, he claims that Pierrot harbored his (Charlot’s) sister when she ran away, but that Pierrot lied about having done so. (30) a quoy le dit Charlot a dit, [tient] Monsieur luy mentir toujours et il disoit toujours non a mon maitre quand luy cacher ma sœur dans sa cabanne, Cest Banbara et luy toujours mentir ‘to which the said Charlot said, "Sir, he always lies and he always said no to my master when he hid my sister in his cabin. He’s a Bambara and he always lies."’ (Ibid., cinquième page) (31) Et ont persiste chacun en leur raisonnement en les donnant beaucoup de dementir de part et d’autre en luy disant a luy Pierrot toy mentir toujours ‘and persisted each in their reasoning, (contradicting each other a great deal?), he telling him, Pierrot, "You always lie."’ (Ibid.) (32) et Pierrot disant a Charlot, Cela nest pas bon, sy toy mourir, mourir seul et nia pas faire mourir monde qui ny’a rien faire avec toy

‘and Pierrot saying to Charlot, "That is not good, if you die, die alone and don’t make people die who have nothing to do with you."’ (Ibid.) Pierrot was questioned again on the two following days, January 11 and 12. In the excerpt below, the clerk of court consistently introduces Pierrot’s testimony with the conjunction que/qu, so that it appears to be indirect discourse. Nonetheless, Pierrot’s reported statement is of interest because it contains the typical creole verb gagné ‘to have.’ (33) a repondu quil na point dautre capot que celuy quil porte actuellement et quil na [jamais] gagné de gillet non plus que de chemise ‘(Pierrot) answered that he has no other coat than the one he is currently wearing and that he has never had a vest nor a shirt.’ (Interrogation of Pierrot, January 11, 1748, troisième page) In his testimony on January 12, Pierrot recounts a conversation he had with Leveillé, the commandeur of his master, Bellisle, on the day of the crime. Here he quotes Leveillé’s proposal that they go have dinner together. (34) interrogé sil a parlé a quelques Negres de son maitre peu de temps avant quils soient aller diner a Repondu que le Commandeur de son maitre Nommé Leveillé Luy dit allons Pierrot allons Courir diner ‘asked if he spoke to some of his master’s Negroes shortly before they went to dinner, (Pierrot) answered that his master’s commandeur named Leveillé said to him, "Come, Pierrot, let’s go to dinner.…"’ (Interrogation of Pierrot, January 12, 1748, deuxième page, troisième page) Pierrot then quotes his answer to Leveillés proposal. While Pierrot’s words are recorded in indirect discourse, one portion of it (placed in italics below) is very different from Standard French and is clearly meant to represent Pierrot’s way of speaking. (35) Et quil luy repondit quil netoit pas accoutumé de diner, que sil alloit diner son maitre le foüeteroit et sy luy pas voir, comme luy ecorchoit luy ‘and that he replied to him that he was not accustomed

to eating dinner, that if he went to dinner his master would whip him and (asked Leveillé) if he did not see how he skinned him.’ (Ibid., troisième page) In his answer to a subsequent question, Pierrot quotes himself responding to Leveillé’s offer of an ear of corn to eat. Pierrot’s response to Leveillé is recorded in direct discourse, but note that it is in perfect Standard French (with the exception of the absence of a partitive determiner before the noun sagamité). (36) interrogé sil a parle a quel[eun] des negres de son maitre lorsquils sont revenus au travail a repondu quil avoit parlé a Leveille et que meme il luy avoit demandé un pipe de tabac que led. negre luy donna de son sac et quil vint allumer a son feu que led. Leveillé voulut luy donner un epy de ma[hy] pour boucanner, que luy le [prit], mais quil luy rendit en luy disant jay mal aux dents je ne puis pas le manger, ce soir je feray boullir sagamité que je mangeray ‘asked if he spoke to some of his master’s Negroes when they returned to work, (he) answered that he had spoken to Leveillé and that he had even asked him for a tobacco pipe, which the said Negro gave him from his sack and that he came to light from his fire, that the said Leveillé wanted to give him an ear of corn to smoke, that he [took] it, but which he gave back to him, saying to him, "I have a toothache, I can’t eat it. This evening I’ll boil some hominy that I will eat."’ (Ibid., troisième page) Like several seen above, the following excerpt is not, strictly speaking, recorded in direct discourse, but the use of the word gagne again suggests that the clerk of court is using some of Pierrot’s words and not entirely transposing his testimony into Standard French. Here Pierrot is being asked if he did not eat potatoes on the day the French soldier was killed (as per Charlot’s testimony). (37) interrogé sy quelques negres de son maitre ne luy en ont pas donne a repondu que non et quil n’en connoit aucun qui ait gagne desert a patates ‘asked if some of his master’s Negroes did not give

him some (potatoes), (Pierrot) answered that no, and that he did not know any of them who had a field of potatoes.’ The interrogation continues as Pierrot is asked if he was not given potatoes by Charlot. Most of his answer is given in direct discourse. The first part of the answer has a form that is clearly different from Standard French. The second part, which I list as (39) below for ease of reference, conforms perfecdy to Standard French and contrasts strikingly in structure with what precedes it. (38) interrogé sy Lorsquil a Rencontré Charlot dans le Bois il ne Luy a pas donné des patates a Repondu que Non Et que Charlot ment En ajoutant, tu Vois bien que Luy ne pas dire Vray, quand il dit que moy Gagner Gillet… ‘asked if, when he met Charlot in the woods he did not give him some potatoes, (Pierrot) answered that no, and that Charlot lies, adding, "You see very well that he does not speak truthfully, when he says that I have a vest."’ (Ibid., quatriéme page) (39)… je n’en ay jamais porté, et je nay pas dautre capot derriere ny devant que Celluy que tu me vois ‘"I have never worn one, and I have no other coat in back nor in front than the one that you see (on) me."’ (Ibid., quatrième page) This is the last passage I was able to decipher—portions of the manuscript are virtually illegible—in which direct discourse is clearly being used. Some of the subsequent testimony is significant, however, for what it reveals about social relations among slaves and also about Pierrot’s linguistic ability. Pierrot’s accuser, Charlot, has claimed that they were friends. Pierrot emphatically denies this and in fact points to a division between Africans like himself and Creoles like Charlot when he says that "he is not a friend of the Creoles": interrogé s’yl a eté dans la cabanne de Charlot depuis quil travaille a la petite habitation de M. Raguet et sy Charlot est son camarade a repondu quil na pas ete a la cabanne dans la cabanne [sic]11 de Charlot, que luy nest pas camarade des Creolles, que Charlot non plus n’a pas eté dans sa cabanne ‘asked if he has been in Charlot’s cabin since he has worked at M. Raguet’s little farm and if Charlot is

his friend, (Pierrot) answered that he has not been in Charlot’s cabin, and that he is not a friend of the Creoles, that neither has Charlot been in his (Peirrot’s) cabin.’ (Ibid., sixième page, septième page) Directly afterward Pierrot is accused of lying when he says that on the day of the murder he was keeping his cattle in a corn field: Charlot has testified that Pierrot told him that he was keeping his cattle in a rice field on that day. Pierrot explains this discrepancy as the result of a misunderstanding brought about by his limited ability in French: a repondu quil sest trompé sil a dit cela parce quil na pas eté semé [sic] de ris dans le desert ou il a gardé ses vaches et quil ne parle pas bien francois ‘(Pierrot) answered that he was mistaken if he said that (i.e., said that he was keeping his cattle in a rice field) because he did not sow rice in the field where he kept his cattle and that he does not speak French well.’ (Ibid., sixième page) This is an important piece of information to bear in mind when trying to interpret Pierrot’s speech, but it must be regarded with some suspicion. When, shortly after having claimed not to speak French well, Pierrot was asked how long M. Bellisle had been his master, he answered "that he has been his master since the Natchez War" (quil est son maitre depuis La Guerre des Natchez), suggesting that Pierrot had been in the colony for at least eighteen years (ibid., septième page, huitième page). This should have been sufficient time to acquire a good knowledge of French or the emerging creole of the colony.12 It is possible, then, that Pierrot understated his knowledge of French in order to explain away an inconvenient discrepancy between his testimony and Charlot’s.

ANALYSIS In assessing the linguistic significance of these thirty-nine utterances, it is important to bear in mind that each is removed from the original speaker by up to three intermediaries. First, of course, all

of the utterances are filtered through the clerk of court, a native speaker of French who recorded most of the testimony in Standard French and whose familiarity with the type of French spoken by the slave witnesses is difficult to gauge. While it is impossible to determine how accurate his representation of the slaves’ speech is, his use of direct discourse in recording many of the utterances suggests that he intended to quote their exact words. We can assume that the greatest degree of accuracy obtains when these words were originally uttered by the slave whose testimony is being transcribed. This is the case for items (6), (8), (12), (13), and (15), in which Pluton reports his own past utterances; for items (21), (25), (28), and (29), in which Charlot reports his own past utterances; for items (5), (30), and (31), where the recorder quotes Charlot’s utterances made in court; for item (36), in which Pierrot reports his own past utterance; and for items (38) and (39), in which the recorder quotes Pierrot’s utterances made in court. We are removed one step further from the source in the instances where the slave under interrogation quotes other persons. This is the case for items (1) and (2), Joseph quoting first Cupidon, then the French soldier; for (3) and (4), Claude quoting first the French soldier, then Cupidon; for items (7), (9), (10), (11), (14), Pluton quoting Charlot, Charlot’s mother, Laurent, and the field slaves; for item (16), Joseph quoting M. Raguet; and for items (22), (23), (24), (26), and (27), Charlot quoting the French soldier. It is possible that these tell us more about the speech of the slaves being interrogated than they do about the speech of those whom the slaves are quoting. In items (18), (19), and (20) the interrogator quotes to Charlot portions of Pluton’s testimony in direct discourse. It is in (19) that the reported speech is furthest removed from its source: the original speaker, Charlot’s mother, is quoted by Pluton, who is in turn quoted by the interrogator, whose words are then written down by the clerk of court. When we examine the linguistic features of these utterances, what is most striking is the great variability in their structure. While some clearly deviate from Standard French, others conform to it perfectly. The latter include utterances attributed to Frenchmen, (3), (16), (22), (23), (24), (26), and (27), as well as utterances attributed to slaves,

(7), (13), (14), (15), (18), (19), (21), (29), and (36), including slaves whose speech is elsewhere represented as being very different from Standard French.13 In such cases we can only speculate about the degree to which the transcriber may have normalized the slave’s speech.14 Of greatest interest for exploring the development of Louisiana Creole are, of course, those utterances that clearly deviate from Standard French. This is the case of items (1), (2), (4)–(6), (8)–(10), (12), (17), (20), (25), (30)–(35), (37), and (38), all of which are attributed to African or Creole slaves. While few of these match modern-day Creole perfectly, many of them show structures that resemble it in interesting ways. Most notable among these are the use of the tonic pronouns moy, toy, and luy as subjects and the use of the infinitive in contexts where the verb must clearly be interpreted as tensed: (1) pourquoy toy [tirer]; (6) Ou toy courir, (8) Qui toy tuer, (9) Moy na rien tué; (12)…c’est une vache qui faire comme cela; (17) D’ou toy venir, (20) pourquoy toy pas travaille[r/s]; (25) pourquoy toy jurer contre moy; (30) luy mentir toujours… quand luy cacher ma sœur…, luy toujours mentir, (31) toy mentir toujours; (32) sy toy mourir, (34) sy luy pas voir, comme luy ecorchoit luy; (38) luy nepas dire vray quand il dit que moy gagner gillet. The pronouns closely resemble the Creole pronouns mo, to, li that have their origin in the French tonic pronouns MOI, TOI, LUI, while the verb forms recall the invariant, single-stem verbs (typically identical or nearly identical in form to the French infinitive) that characterize the Creole of nineteenth-century texts. Note, however, that some of these Creolelike pronoun and verb forms are used within the same utterance alongside Standard French structures, as in (12) Je pense que…, where the French subject clitic pronoun je is used instead of tonic moi (moy) and the verb pense is conjugated in the 1 sg. present indicative, and in (38)… quand il dit…, which also shows a subject clitic pronoun (il rather than tonic lui/luy) and a conjugated verb dit (3 sg. present indicative). In (35) the tonic 3 sg. pronoun luy is used both as a subject before the verb and as a direct object following it:… comme luy ecorchoit

luy. This conforms exacdy to the placement of object pronouns in Creole (li kòrche li), but differs significantly from Standard French, where the direct object pronoun would be clitic le/l’ placed before the verb: IL L’ÉCORCHAIT. Also of significance is the placement of the negator pas before the verb in contexts where, in Standard French, it would follow the verb: (20) pourquoy toy pas travaille[r/s] (cf. Fr. POURQUOI [EST-CE QUE] TU NE TRAVAILLES PAS?); (35) sy luy pas voir (cf. Fr. S’IL NE VOIT/VOYAIT PAS); (38) que luy ne pas dire vray (cf. Fr. QU’IL NE DIT PAS VRAI). This matches the placement of pa in nineteenthcentury Creole and, to some extent, in the modern-day language as well (see Chapter 5, section 5.2.12 for details). Note also that in (20) and (35), just as in Creole (and in most types of vernacular French), the particle ne is not used. A third structure that matches Creole is the 1 pl. imperative with allons, found in (34): allons Pierrot allons courir diner ‘Come, Pierrot, let’s go to dinner.’ Here it is clear that allons, at least in its second occurrence, does not mean ‘let’s go’(as it does in French) but serves only to express the 1 pl. imperative, with the verb courir expressing the meaning of’go.’ This is precisely the way the 1 pl. imperative is formed in Creole (see Chapter 5, section 5.2.9). There is also a suggestion in one utterance that, as is the case in basilectal Creole, grammatical gender is not marked on possessive determiners: In (10) the 2 sg. possessive determiner is ton, even though the noun chemise is feminine in French (cf. Fr. TON masc. sg., TA fem. sg.). Gender is clearly marked in (1), however, where the feminine singular form of the 1 sg. possessive determiner, ma, appears before the noun trape. Finally, these utterances contain three lexical items that are used with the same meaning that they have in Creole, which is different from their meaning in Standard French. These are gagne/gagné/gagner ‘have’ in (5), (33), (37), and (38) (cf. Fr. GAGNER ‘to win; to earn’),15monde ‘person, people’ in (32) (cf. Fr. MONDE ‘world’),16 and courir ‘go’ (4), (34) (cf. Fr. COURIR ‘to run’).

For reasons already explained, the thirty-nine utterances found in the transcript of this trial must be interpreted with caution. The great variation that they show may accurately portray the range of variation that characterized the speech of slaves at this time, or it may simply reflect the inconsistent transcription practices of the clerk, who perhaps normalized the witnesses’ speech to different degrees at different times. The utterances in which Creole-like and French-like structures exist side by side are perhaps best interpreted as examples of the highly variable, approximate varieties of French that were being spoken by African and Creole slaves at a time when the small farm was still the main agricultural unit of the colony. Yet in those instances where the clerk was recording a type of speech that he clearly recognized as being structurally distinct from his variety of French, the resemblances to certain grammatical structures and lexical items of Louisiana Creole as we know it from the nineteenth century on are so striking as to allow us to conclude with confidence that, by the mid-eighteenth century, Creole was well on its way to formation as an autonomous language. A second example of slave testimony recorded in direct discourse comes from the transcript of a 1773 trial, uncovered by Marshall (1989, 30–31). Unfortunately, it consists of only two brief sentences: A moi, on assassinè ‘I have been murdered’ and Bombara piqué moi ‘Bombara has stabbed me.’ These samples are too short to tell us much about Creole at this stage, but it may be noted that the second sentence, in which the past tense is expressed by means of an unmarked verb ending in -[e] (without the required auxiliary verb of Standard French) and the direct object is a stressed pronoun following the verb, conforms perfectly to modern-day Creole. Somewhat lengthier samples are to be found in Bossu (1777), which is an account of the author’s third trip to the New World, begun in 1770. Bossu’s work contains two utterances in Creole. The first is part of a story told to Bossu by his friend M. de Livoy, whose plantation was situated six leagues from Mobile. As Bossu explains, on September 27, 1762, at about ten o’clock in the morning, de Livoy, while watching the tide go out, noticed some green branches

on the water that appeared to be rising. This seemed odd to him, and he asked his slave Jupiter if he knew what might cause this. Jupiter did indeed have the answer and, "in his baragouin negre," explained that it was an alligator with branches on its back: (1) Vous pas mire donc Maître à moi, ça Caïman qui mange monde? moi déjà vu bête tant grosse comme ci-là, qui gagne ferdoches en haut dos à ly ‘Don’t you see, my Master, that it’s a crocodile [alligator] that eats people? I have seen ones like it in these parts, which carried green branches on their back.’ (1777, 83, my translation) Like this utterance, the second is also indirect and comes from a story told to Bossu by someone else. During an earlier stay in Louisiana when he served in the military, Bossu had been told about a slave who had been ordered to execute a French soldier who had deserted and been caught in enemy territory. The slave refused, saying: (2) Blanc-là ly pas faire mal à moi; pourquoi toi v’lé moi faire mal à ly? Moi pas v’le déshonorer famille à moi. Moi Negre, ça ben vrai; ma moi gagné sentiment tout comme blancs mêmes ‘This soldier never did me any harm; why should I do him any? I don’t want to dishonor my family. I am a Negro, it’s true; but I have as much feeling as a Frenchman.’ (1777, 374, my translation, based on the rather loose French translation Bossu provides) Compared to the 1748 text, these utterances show grammatical structures that are both more complex—note in particular the first attestation in Louisiana of a postposed definite determiner in the noun phrase Blanc-là—and more consistent. It may be, then, that they represent a more fully developed version of Louisiana Creole. Yet it is unclear how accurate a representation of Louisiana Creole we should take them to be, in particular since neither one is a direct quote of something that the author himself heard a slave say. Moreover, while Bossu spent substantial time in Louisiana and thus may well have been familiar with the speech patterns of slaves in the colony, he also visited several Caribbean colonies, including Saint-

Domingue, and may have placed the Creole of another region in the mouths of the Louisiana slaves he quotes. Neumann, in fact, believes that the samples are actually Haitian rather than Louisiana Creole, given the frequency of prepositional possessive constructions (Maître à moi, dos à ly, famille à moi), which are typical of earlier Haitian but very rare in Louisiana (1985b, 1–2 n. 2).17 The verb v’le ‘want’ also lends support to her claim, since it is typical of Haitian but only very rarely attested in Louisiana, which uses ole or ve/veu instead. A further brief sample of what appears to be Louisiana Creole comes from yet another murder trial, that of the slave Latulipe, accused of shooting his master to death in Pointe Coupee in 1791. In testimony given by fellow slaves, Latulipe is quoted as having made the following utterances: (1) C’est moi! C’est moi moi-même, Latulipe! Toi fini, mois aussi. C’est ton dernier jour aujourd’hui, mon tienne aussi ‘It is I! It is I myself! Latulipe! You are done for today, and so am I.’ (2) Moi crois toi pas besoin moi encore ‘I believe you do not need me anymore.’ (Hall 1992a, 253–54, her translations) With the exception of some phonetic details, these utterances conform perfectly to nineteenth- and twentieth-century Louisiana Creole.18 Of particular note are the possessive structure mon tienne, which is common today as a possessive pronoun in the forms motchèn, mokèn; the lack of a complementizer before the embedded sentence in (2) (Moi crois_______toi pas besoin moi encore); and the use of besoin in a verb-like function, unaccompanied by a form of the verb avoir as it would be in French. All of these features are typical of Louisiana Creole as it appears in nineteenth-century texts and as it is spoken today. The first documented, explicit reference to a language called Creole (Criollo) in Louisiana appears just a year later, in the 1792 transcript of a trial of slaves from Pointe Coupee accused of having planned a revolt the previous year. Sworn statements had been taken from

witnesses and accused in Pointe Coupee, and in the document containing this testimony (Testimonio del Proceso 1792) it is indicated that a Spanish-speaking translator was required because "the witnesses as well as the prisoners only speak French" (Ricard 1992, 117 n. 5, translated from the original Spanish). In the course of the trial, however, which took place in New Orleans, a question was raised about whether the defendants could understand either French or Creole French. The commandant at Pointe Coupee, Valerien LeBlanc, described the slaves’ linguistic abilities as follows: "[I]t is true that they neither understand the authentic French language nor English; but all of them understand and explain themselves perfectly in Creole which is a mixture, as I have already said, of their native language and of a poorly pronounced and structured French; which language is not known by all of the French and English citizens and inhabitants of the Province; but I, the witnesses, and the clerk who assisted know it [Creole] very well" (Ricard 1992, 126, translated from the original Spanish). As Ricard explains, tests were conducted to determine whether the defendants understood Creole sufficiently well to be interrogated, and "It was shown, in several instances, that neither the whites nor the slaves were well versed in Creole French." As he goes on to note, however, the slaves may simply have been feigning ignorance in order to protect themselves. If so, the ploy worked, for they were all eventually returned to their masters (1992, 126). The transcript of the proceedings that took place in New Orleans does not provide any samples of utterances in Creole, but it is an important document because, if LeBlanc’s testimony is accurate, it demonstrates that a language that was recognized as being distinct from French and was known as "Creole" (Criollo in the Spanish original) was spoken at this time by both blacks and whites in Pointe Coupee. A final piece of written evidence of the early existence of Louisiana Creole comes from the account of C. C. Robin (1807), who visited Louisiana in the first years of the nineteenth century, before the arrival of most of the refugees from Saint-Domingue. Although he does not use the term Créole, Robin describes a type of "compressed" or "degraded" French spoken by the slaves.19 His

description is cursory, but with a few exceptions the examples he provides are very close to Louisiana Creole as we know it from the mid-nineteenth century on. His observation that the verb is "stripped of all its moods, all its tenses" and appears "only in the form of an indefinite"20 suggests the invariant, one-stem verbs typical of nineteenth-century texts, and some of his examples match modernday Creole almost perfectly: Moi couris hier ‘I went yesterday,’ toi couris aujourd’hui ‘you go today,’… Moi pas connais ‘I don’t know.’ However, he makes no mention of preverbal markers of tense and aspect, and at least one of his examples, Ly couris demain ‘He will go tomorrow,’ would be ungrammatical in modern-day Creole without a future marker such as a or va or the verb gen in its function as an auxiliary (Robin 1807, 3:187, my translation). This may indicate that slave speech at the time still differed in significant ways from Creole as it would begin to be represented in texts half a century later, but it is just as likely that it reflects Robin’s superficial familiarity with the speech he is describing (see Hull 1983, 7 for a similar view).21 Also of note in this brief account are the consistent use of tonic pronouns in subject position (he provides examples of sentences with moi, toi, and ly) and the typical Creole lexical items vaillant ‘pretty, beautiful, nice,’ capable ‘be able to,’ couris ‘go,’ and gagner ‘have’ (which, as previously noted, is today shortened to gen) (186–88). Taken together, these written speech samples and explicit references to a distinct type of speech used by slaves, even referred to as Criollo in one document, constitute strong evidence that some form of Louisiana Creole was in place by the late eighteenth century. The massive influx of speakers of Saint-Domingue Creole during the first decade of the nineteenth century may have influenced the evolution of this language, but it certainly did not supplant it. It is surprising that no further samples of Louisiana Creole are documented until 1846, when a Creole version of the fable of the Cicada and the Ant (La Cigale et la Fourmi) appeared in the Revue Louisianaise (Cigale et la fourmi 1846, reprinted in NeumannHolzschuh 1987, 24). After this date an increasing number of Creole texts began to be published and by the end of the nineteenth century the language had been well documented in poems, songs, and

folktales (see, in particular, Neumann-Holzschuh 1987 and Fortier 1887, 1895).

2.2 The Creolization Process While the documents cited in the previous section are convincing evidence that a creole language existed in Louisiana before the arrival of the immigrants from Saint-Domingue in the early nineteenth century, they do not tell us whether Louisiana Creole is purely an indigenous creation or whether it developed out of an earlier Creole or pidgin imported from Africa or the Caribbean some time in the course of the eighteenth century. Nor do they tell us much about the linguistic processes by which a creole language developed in Louisiana. In what follows, I attempt to shed as much light as possible on these questions. I begin with an overview of several diffusionist scenarios according to which Louisiana Creole actually had its origins outside of Louisiana itself, in a pidgin or creole that spread from its place of genesis to widely scattered colonial locations. After showing that strong evidence for these hypotheses is lacking, I propose an explanation for the indigenous genesis of Louisiana Creole that is grounded in a careful assessment of the sociolinguistic circumstances that prevailed in colonial Louisiana.22 One hypothesis of creole genesis that has been applied to Louisiana Creole in various guises is commonly known as monogenesis. It was originally proposed to explain the striking similarities noted among creole languages found in distant corners of the world and having different European lexical bases. As articulated in its earliest and broadest form by creolists such as Taylor (1961), Thompson (1961), and Whinnom (1965), the monogenetic hypothesis holds that all of the creole languages having a European lexical base derive from a common source, most often identified as a Portuguese- or AfroPortuguese-based pidgin or jargon used as a contact variety along the West Coast of Africa. This variety, so the hypothesis goes, was eventually exported to many different locations throughout the colonial world where, through a process of relexification, most of its

original lexicon was replaced with lexical items from whatever European language was dominant in a given setting. Its grammar, however, remained intact, resulting in numerous Creoles having different lexical bases but similar grammatical structures. This strong version of monogenesis was soon abandoned by most creolists. In its place some have proposed more limited versions of the hypothesis, sometimes referred to as restricted monogenesis (see for example Arends et al. 1995, 89), which trace only the Creoles of a single lexical base to the same origin. Restricted monogenesis has been most persuasively argued for the Atlantic English-based Creoles by Hancock (1986).23 For the French-based Creoles, the proponents of restricted monogenesis include Stewart (1962), Goodman (1964), and Hull (1974; 1979a; 1979b). Noting the "close historical connection of all the French Creoles," Goodman (1964, 130–31) goes on to claim that "Only by positing a single origin for Creole24 can one account for this historical connection, and its place of origin can scarcely have been other than West Africa, from which it was transported to the various parts of the world where Creole is now found. It most likely developed out of a slavers’ jargon of some sort." Hull is more specific, identifying a common ancestor for all of the French-based Creoles in a pidgin French that formed at the coastal trading post of Juda (also Whydah or Ouidah), in present-day Benin. While not embracing the strong version of monogenesis, Hull does attribute an important role in the formation of pidgin French to a pre-existing Portuguese Creole spoken at the trading post: "Pidg[in] Fr[ench], then, was first stabilized at Ouidah, as a Mar[itime] Fr[ench]-based calque of Gulf of Guinea Por[uguese] Cr[eole], but later came into widespread use throughout the tropics, wherever French sailors, traders, or settlers came into contact with native peoples. It became Cr[eole] wherever a plantation economy was established" (1979a, 213). The historian Gwendolyn Midlo Hall (1992a, 191–92) invokes a similar hypothesis to explain the origin of the Creole language in Louisiana: "Louisiana Creole evidently developed from a Portuguese-based pidgin that had been relexified with French

vocabulary in Senegal. This pidgin was spoken by a number of African slaves brought to Louisiana between 1719 and 1731. The first generation of creole slaves adopted the language as its mother tongue, expanding and nativizing its vocabulary, including Indian terms for local fruits and plants." As evidence of Louisiana Creole’s pidgin origin, Hall cites one of the passages mentioned in the previous section from Le Page du Pratz (1758, 304–17), director of the Company of the Indies, who quotes a few brief utterances of one of his slaves in what Hall takes to be an early form of Louisiana Creole. As noted, the passage contains the words sabai ‘know,’ which Hall (1992a, 192) considers to be "core vocabulary pointing to a Portuguese-based pidgin," and Mian Mian ‘eat,’ a word of NigerCongo origin that is widespread among the Atlantic pidgins and Creoles and has sometimes been attributed to an early pidgin (Holm 1988, 81). Chaudenson (1992, 41–46) dismisses the notion of a single, original pidgin as the source of all the French-based Creoles, proposing instead that polygenesis, the independent development of these languages in the various regions where they are spoken, is the "natural" hypothesis, given "the great geographical dispersion of the territories where the French Creoles appeared" (1992, 45, my translation).25 The monogenetic hypothesis, in contrast, is neither necessary to explain the resemblances between Creoles nor scientifically valid. According to Chaudenson, monogenesis, even in its limited form as applied to the French-based Creoles, lacks validity because rigorous, detailed comparisons of these languages have never been conducted, so that the claim of widespread and systematic similarities among them remains undemonstrated.26 Even if such similarities should be uncovered, however, they could just as easily be attributed to the similarities among the lexical base languages of each creole27 and to linguistic changes brought about by universal strategies of language acquisition, so that the monogenetic hypothesis would by no means be necessary to explain them. Chaudenson may be overstating the case against monogenesis when he claims that it must be necessary—which to him appears to mean the only possible explanation of the observed

facts—in order not to be rejected: In the face of limited evidence, it is to be expected that two or more competing hypotheses could offer equally plausible accounts of the same phenomena. Given, however, that the demographic and sociolinguistic conditions in Louisiana were propitious for the development of a creole language, the burden of proof that this did not happen rests with supporters of mono-genesis. For now, the evidence for monogenesis, including the two lexical items from Le Page du Pratz noted by Hall, is simply too slim for us to adopt it as an explanation of the origin of Louisiana Creole. In recent years, more nuanced diffusionist scenarios have been proposed to explain the resemblances among the French-lexifier creoles. Goodman, for example, has revised his earlier hypothesis of an original West African slave trade jargon as the common source for these languages. Instead, he now believes it likely that the earliest source for the French Creoles developed in the Caribbean during the initial phase of France’s colonial expansion and was subsequently carried in some form to the slave trading posts of West Africa in the early eighteenth century. In these posts it would have been learned by slaves who were then shipped to other colonies, such as Louisiana and Mauritius, where they had an influence on the developing creole language (1992, 355–56). Goodman also suggests that Louisiana Creole "may have been directly influenced from the outset by northern Haitian (Cap Haitian) Creole" (1992, 356). This hypothesis would explain both the similarities between Louisiana and Mauritian Creole and those between Louisiana and Haitian Creole (such as the possessive particle kèn/kin). In a scenario that resembles Goodman’s in many respects, Parkvall (1995) identifies two separate points of origin for these languages, an early one on the island of St. Kitts and a later one in Senegambia. According to this hypothesis, the proto-pidgin that developed on St. Kitts gave rise to the Creoles of the Lesser Antilles, while the one that developed in Senegambia served as the starting point for Louisiana and Mauritian Creole. As for Guianese Creole and Haitian Creole (including its northern variant), Parkvall believes they "may

result from a mixing of the two proto-pidgins" (1995, 42). This scenario has the advantage of explaining the substantial structural differences that separate the so-called ka Creoles—that is, those of the Lesser Antilles and French Guiana, which have ka as the preverbal marker of progressive aspect—from those, like Louisiana, Haitian, and Mauritian Creole, that have ap/ape in this function. Like theories of mo-nogenesis, however, Parkvall’s and Goodman’s theories suffer from a lack of evidence. In particular, as Valdman (1996b, 89 n. 1) points out, there is no clear attestation of a French pidgin spoken in Senegambia that would then have been transported to the Atlantic colonies (and, in Parkvall’s and Goodman’s view, to the Indian Ocean, as well). Jennings, in fact, presents evidence that slaves arriving on St. Kitts as late as 1681, twenty-two years after the French established a permanent fort at Saint Louis in Senegambia, did not speak any type of European-based pidgin or creole. The evidence is from a letter written by Jean Mon-gin, a priest who visited Saint-Christophe (the French name for St. Kitts) in 1681, in which he describes the slaves’ arrival from Africa: When the ships have landed these wretches, which happens several times a year, and once they have been placed in the settlers’ houses, the local missionary finds out which part of Africa they are from. If, for example, he finds one of them is from Ardres or Juda, kingdoms of Guinea, he will ask a Black from his country who is already a Christian to teach the new arrival the basics of Christianity, and he will reward him for doing so. This old hand will do his best, to the point where the new arrival learns French, which he will do in very little time, because the Blacks are completely dependent on their masters and commanders, who will only ever speak French to them, and are forbidden to speak their native language. They might even have difficulty being understood if they did so, there being sometimes ten or a dozen languages spoken in the Blacks’ houses. (Chatillon 1984, 133–34, quoted in Jennings 1995, 69–70, Jennings’ translation)

In Jennings’ view, this account makes clear "that the newly arrived slaves had no knowledge of French, or of any other European language (e.g., Portuguese)," which in turn "rules out the possibility of a relexified Pidgin Portuguese transmitted from the African coast being the origin of any French lexically-based language of communication on Saint-Christophe. It also disproves theories that captives acquired Pidgin French during the crossing of the Atlantic (cf. Hull 1979)." This does not by itself disprove Parkvall’s hypothesis, which places the period when a proto-pidgin based on French might have been transported from West Africa to Louisiana and Mauritius some forty years or more later than Mongin’s eyewitness account of events on St. Kitts. It does, however, raise the question of why slaves shipped from Senegambia in the 1720s or 1730s would have spoken such a pidgin when in 1681 they clearly did not, despite the fact that the French slave trade had been operating in this area for over two decades.28 Valdman (1992, 85ff.; 1996a, 158–59; 1996b) offers an alternative diffu-sionist view of creole origins that also crucially involves St. Kitts but in a rather different role from the one attributed to it by Parkvall. Valdman posits that an incipient French creole arose on St. Kitts in the seventeenth century and then spread to the islands of Martinique, Guadeloupe, and Saint-Domingue. Viewed in terms of Bartoli’s stratigraphic model of dialectology, which Hazaël-Massieux (1990) was the first to apply to the study of the Caribbean Creoles, these islands came to form a "central zone" from which the language was subsequently exported to the "lateral zones" of Cayenne, Louisiana, and the Indian Ocean. Bartoli’s model predicts that newer, more innovative forms will be found in the central zone, while more conservative features will persist in the lateral zones. This is indeed what seems to occur in the New World French Creoles, since those of Guadeloupe, Martinique, and Haiti appear to have evolved further away from French than have the more conservative Creoles of French Guiana, Louisiana, and the Indian Ocean.29 Thus for Valdman, the features that Louisiana and Haitian Creole share are not the result of the latter having been imported directly to Louisiana

but "stem instead from a common base originating elsewhere" (Valdman 1992, 87). It is difficult to reconcile Valdman’s hypothesis with the demographic record, which, as we have seen, offers little evidence of slaves having come to Louisiana from the Caribbean in the eighteenth century. It is true that the hypothesis receives weak support from the fact that, among the handful of slaves who are documented as having been in Louisiana before the first shipment from Africa in 1719, at least some appear to have come from the Caribbean, though it is by no means certain that they spoke any form of French. As noted in 1.4.2, the first black slaves known to have been transported to the colony arrived in 1706 from the English colony of Nevis, and in 1709 Bienville brought an unspecified number from Havana. Although there could not have been more than a handful of slaves in the Havana shipment—just three years later only ten blacks are listed in the colony (Hall 1992a, 57–58)—Goodman (1992, 365) believes that "even a small number of prior arrivals" could have had a significant linguistic influence on the bossals, " [e]ven if not a single newly arrived African slave had been previously exposed to any form of French." But the hypothesis that the early arrivals imparted a French creole or pre-creole to the new arrivals supposes, first, that the early arrivals spoke such a variety and, second, that there was considerable contact between the two groups. In trying to determine what the early arrivals might have spoken, it is important to underscore that the only ones whose place of embarkation is specified were shipped from English and Spanish territories (Nevis and Cuba), not from the French islands. While this does not preclude the possibility that some of them spoke a variety of French, it makes it less likely. Even if these slaves were francophone to some degree before coming to Louisiana, however, their tiny numbers were so overwhelmed by the masses of new arrivals from Africa that it is difficult to believe they could have served as cultural and linguistic models for many in this group. Consider that by June of 1721, just two years after slaves began arriving in Louisiana from Africa, 1,450 Africans had been landed in the colony and that in the twelve-year span from 1719 to 1731, the

year of the last shipment until 1743, Louisiana received fully 5,310 African slaves.30 It is unlikely that a handful of prior arrivals could have had a profound linguistic influence on such a large group of Africans, even if the language they spoke was a fairly stable Frenchbased pidgin or creole. In sum, the hypothesis according to which Louisiana Creole had its beginnings in an early creole or pre-creole originating in the Caribbean suffers from a paucity of documentary evidence showing that slaves who spoke such a variety were present in Louisiana in sufficient numbers to have perpetuated it among the new arrivals from Africa. While there is indirect evidence that more Caribbean slaves were present in colonial Louisiana than were documented, the hypothesis of a significant Caribbean influence on the formation of Louisiana Creole remains largely speculative.31 In what follows, I assume that the Creole language in Louisiana was an indigenous creation that may have been influenced at various stages of its development by a creole, pre-creole, or approximate varieties of French brought from elsewhere but was not actually based on any of these. How, then, did Louisiana Creole come into existence? While a definitive answer to this question remains elusive, it is possible to combine the data examined above on demographics and social relations in colonial Louisiana with recent advances in creole studies to sketch the broad outlines of the origin an development of a creole language. A convenient starting point for understanding linguistic developments in colonial Louisiana will be Chaudenson’s (1992) model of creolization, which is the most fully developed model to date that joins a serious analysis of the social context of creolization with an account of the linguistic processes involved.32 While I share Chaudenson’s view of creolization as resulting from a specific type of second language acquisition, I will show that the Louisiana context presents a challenge to some of the sociolinguistic prerequisites he believes necessary for creolization to occur.

Crucial to Chaudenson’s model is the distinction between the société d’habitation, or small farm society characteristic of a colony’s initial phase, and the société de plantation that followed once the colony became firmly established. As was explained in 1.3, in small farm society agriculture was mainly carried out on a subsistence level by the habitant (farmer), his family, and his slaves, if he had any. Those fortunate enough to own slaves typically had no more than a few, so that the slaves on any given farm were often outnumbered by the farmer and his family, who generally worked alongside the slaves in the field, the yard, and the house. Under these conditions of intimate and regular contact with their francophone masters, the African slaves had considerable exposure to the French they spoke, which, as we have seen, was characterized by dialectal features and features typical of vernacular French. Furthermore, Chaudenson insists that the Africans were under considerable pressure to learn French, first, because it was the language of the dominant class with whom they needed to communicate in order to survive and, second, because it provided the most convenient means of inter-ethnic communication among the slaves themselves. Such a means of communication was necessary because, as numerous historical accounts from the European colonies tell us, the Africans came from widely diverse ethnic and linguistic backgrounds and, in the colonists’ attempt to discourage collusion among them, were purposely distributed among the estates in such a way as to isolate them from others in their same ethnic group (Chaudenson 1992, 72–80). Chaudenson further asserts that this isolation was reinforced by severe restrictions on slave movement that kept them virtually bound to the farm of their owner, making it impossible for them to associate with fellow bondsmen and -women on other farms and thus reconstitute, in some degree, African ethnic and language communities. As would be expected in any language-learning situation, the Africans began by speaking approximations of the colonists’ French. The match between this target language and the slaves’ approximations of it varied widely according to factors such as social

relations on a given farm and the degree of access that slaves had to the French of the colonists, but during the small-farm stage of colonial development, as we have seen, slaves tended to have regular exposure to the target language and thus many were likely to have acquired fairly accurate versions of it. While these approximate varieties might appear to correspond closely to the pidgin that has often been posited as a crucial stage on the way to creolization, Chaudenson rejects the term pidgin to refer to them because, in his view, they constituted the only means of interethnic communication and were thus used to fulfill all normal communicative functions of a language, to the exclusion of the Africans’ first languages. A pidgin, by contrast, is "a language with reduced structures and lexicon, used in a limited number of functions by speakers who also have available to them and otherwise make use of a complete language (or complete languages) of communication, and are themselves included in social groups that enjoy considerable autonomy" (Chaudenson 1992, 24, my translation; see also Chaudenson 1992, 107). With the development of plantation society the sociolinguisitc situation changed in crucial ways. In order to provide sufficient labor for the cultivation of cash crops on large plantations, masses of new slaves, called bossals (or, more commonly in Louisiana, bruts), were imported from Africa. On the plantations, most new arrivals were put to work as field hands and had little contact with white francophones. The responsibility for their socialization as slaves fell to the Creoles and to the Africans who had already been in the colony many years; these slaves typically served as overseers or had more privileged positions performing skilled tasks or working in the house or yard of the master. The target language of the linguistically heterogeneous bossals was, then, not the French of the colonists, but the approximate varieties of it spoken by the Creoles and seasoned Africans. As second language learners the bossals, in turn, began speaking approximations of these approximations. Once the importation of new Africans ceased, the linguistic situation stabilized considerably and it became possible for a distinct creole language to

develop, having a coherent and relatively stable structure autonomous from that of French. Given what we have seen of population patterns, economic activity, and social relations in colonial Louisiana, it is apparent that a number of Chaudenson’s sociolinguistic prerequisites for creolization were not met.33 First, while the small farm was an important economic and social unit of the early colony, it was by no means the only place where significant cultural exchange took place between Europeans, Africans, and Indians. Many slaves were located in New Orleans, where they built levees, dug ditches, and performed various types of skilled labor; some served as guards and soldiers; others traveled up and down the Mississippi transporting supplies from one post to another; and a great many, including those on the farms, engaged in commercial activities that also frequently involved travel. At the same time, though a true plantation economy did not take root until the end of the eighteenth century, a tendency toward the concentration of slaves on large estates became discernible almost as soon as slave ships began arriving from Africa, with several estates having over 40 slaves—and one as many as 53—as early as 1721, just two years after the first slave shipment had arrived. Thus in early colonial Louisiana contacts between settlers and slaves were by no means restricted to the small farm but occurred in other contexts as well, including plantationlike settings where slaves constituted a substantial majority; the urban New Orleans setting where slaves played many different roles and came into contact with a wide variety of Europeans, Indians, and Africans; face-to-face commercial transactions; and military service. A second important way in which the Louisiana context differed from Chaudenson’s model was in the significant degree of ethnic and linguistic homogeneity among slaves, which, if the documented ethnic designations can be believed, far surpassed what his model would allow. Furthermore, we have seen that Louisiana slaves enjoyed surprising freedom of travel away from their estates, making it possible for African ethnic communities to re-form and continue to function in some measure even if many of their members were

scattered among different farms and plantations. As regards language and ethnicity, recall that in her 1992 work Hall claimed that "[t]wo-thirds of the slaves brought to Louisiana by the French slave trade came from Senegambia" (1992a, 29). Her subsequent examination of slave ship arrival records and early Louisiana censuses has led her to conclude that this was in fact a gross underestimate of "the homogeneity of the formative, surviving slave population," and she now believes that "the slaves who survived in the colony came almost entirely from Senegambia" (Hall 1997). This conclusion is supported by the fact that, of the 2,043 slaves shipped to Louisiana from outside Senegal during the French regime, 1,57934 of them arrived between 1719 and 1721, a period when mortality of slaves and Europeans alike was especially high.35 Between 1721 and 1732, when survival rates improved considerably, 3,628 slaves were shipped from Senegal and only 464 from elsewhere (specifically, the Bight of Benin). As Hall notes, the Senegambian region from which the slaves were embarked is not only a geographical but also a cultural region, whose four principle languages are Sereer, Wolof, Pulaar, and Malinke, the first three of which are closely related (1992a, 29). At this point a note of caution is in order regarding the determination of slaves’ ethnicity and geographic provenance. As historians have often noted, the point of embarkation is not always a reliable indicator of where a slave actually came from. Hall believes, however, that the vast majority of Africans embarked in Senegal were in fact of Senegambian origin. She makes this claim based on slave trade patterns in the region and on the designations of the nations to which the African slaves belonged, as indicated in colonial documents. Yet the accuracy of such designations has also been seriously called into question. Chaudenson states emphatically that "all the specialists of the slave trade agree" that "these designations by ‘nation’ have no real value of ethnic membership" (1992, 74, my translation, emphasis in the original). The designation "Bambara," which shows up with especially great frequency in Louisiana documents, has been subjected to particular scrutiny by historians. Curtin describes the difficulties in interpreting this term as follows:

The term Bambara is always hard to interpret in the historical record because it has several different meanings. It could refer to the Bambara, an ethnic group very nearly identical in speech with the Malinke, generally non-Muslim, who made up the dominant people of the new kingdoms of Segu and Kaarta in the eighteenth century. But the word also meant, in Senegambian French, any slave soldier serving in Senegal, and it could be taken as a very general designation for all Malinke-speaking peoples, or even of all people from east of the rivers. The "Bambara" slaves shipped west as a result of eighteenth-century warfare or political consolidation could be dissident people who were ethnically Bambara, or they could just as well be non-Bambara victims of Bambara raiders." (1975, 178– 79) While acknowledging such problems, Hall argues that the "Bambara" in Louisiana were truly members of this ethnic group. She claims, first, that the term did not acquire its more general meaning until well after the end of the French slave trade to Louisiana, by which time "Many distinct ethnic communities had … been incorporated into the Bambara warrior group" (1992a, 43). The original group of "Bambara" brought to Louisiana, however, came primarily in the 1720s, well before the broadening of the term’s meaning, and were thus more likely to have been ethnic Bambara (1992a, 42–43, 288– 89). Hall also argues for the accuracy of "Bambara" and other ethnic designations based on the fact that "slaves testifying in court identified their own nations," which presumably would make the designations more reliable than if they had been assigned by Europeans (1992a, 42). Yet Palmié, in a review of Hall (1992a), remains skeptical of her interpretation of the term Bambara even when used for self-identification by slaves, in part because she does not take into account the possibility of ethnocultural redefinition in the colonial setting: "But are we justified in reading a real African ethnic unit into the eighteenth-century French/Spanish term nation/nación bambara? And what may the use of the name ‘Bambara’ have meant for those who not only bore it as a ‘label’ but called themselves so on American soil? Did an eighteenth-century ‘Bambara culture’ (whatever it may have been) really inform their adaptation to the

Louisiana diaspora?" (1994, 170). In Palmié’s view Hall does not address these problems adequately: "Putting it bluntly, Hall’s ‘Bambara’ could have been an entirely heterogeneous bunch of people who, in the course of enslavement, wound up with an imposed ‘pseudo-African’ identity which, in the end, they may have adopted as their own. This is not to deny that a community of ‘Bambara’ existed in Louisiana; it is to question who they really were. For we cannot rule out the possibility that they may have become ‘Bambara’ only in the New World" (1994, 171). While there is reason to question the true ethnic character of "Bambara" and other African nations in Louisiana, what interests us most here is language, and both Hall (1992a) and Ricard (1992) bring to bear evidence that African language communities did function in Louisiana. Hall cites documents describing a thwarted revolt in 1731 involving "four hundred Bambara slaves speaking the same language" (1992a, 42),36 and during the Spanish period a group of Mina slaves were the driving force behind the abortive revolt in Pointe Coupee noted above. The record of the Pointe Coupee conspirators’ trial shows that of the seventeen slaves implicated in the uprising, fifteen were Minas who spoke a common language that, according to Ricard (1992, 124–25), must have been a dialect of Fon or Yoruba. If the documentary references to common languages among the conspirators are accurate, they show that, to a surprising degree, Africans in slavery were able to regroup themselves into functioning, cohesive African-language communities. This being the case, it would appear that the approximate varieties of French that were the precursors of Louisiana Creole did, in many instances, meet most of the criteria for being a pidgin (though its speakers did not, of course, enjoy autonomy, one of the criteria that Chaudenson includes in his definition of a pidgin). While it is certain that some slaves found themselves entirely cut off from others who spoke their same African language (or languages) and thus had only approximate French at their disposal as a means of communication, it is apparent that large numbers of slaves were able to continue

using their pre-enslavement languages among themselves for some time after their arrival in the colony. For these Africans, approximate French could, in fact, be considered to have constituted a pidgin.37 Yet despite the ability of some Africans in colonial Louisiana to regroup into language communities based on their African languages, it is reasonable to assume that French, as the single most widely spoken language and the language of the dominant class, functioned as a target language for the non-francophones in the colony, including African slaves, Europeans speaking languages other than French, and those Indians living in the French colonial establishments or having regular and intensive contact with their inhabitants.38 While such a claim by no means denies the possibility of influences on the emergent creole from other languages (African, Indian, or European) or from universal processes of language acquisition, it does predict that the main source of lexical, phonological, and morpho-syntactic material will be the varieties of French spoken in the colony, even if this material does undergo extensive restructuring.39

2.3 The Question of African Influence on Louisiana Creole Hall contends that, as a result of the considerable size and homogeneity of its African population, Louisiana’s culture became more thoroughly Africanized than that of any other part of the country (1992a, 161). What is more, she considers Louisiana to have been "the most significant source of Africanization of the entire culture of the United States" (157). Of concern to us here is one particular component of culture in which Hall seeks to locate African influence: the Louisiana Creole language. As she puts it, "The cultural impact of the Africans brought to Louisiana during the French slave trade is engraved upon the very structure of language as well as in the history of its use.… The vocabulary of Louisiana Creole is overwhelmingly French in origin, but its grammatical structure is

largely African" (187–88).40 While it is indisputably true that most of the Creole lexicon is of French origin, the claim that the grammatical structure of the language is largely African is more controversial and considerably more difficult to demonstrate. Finding evidence of African grammatical influence is hardly a straightforward task. Attempts to trace creole structures to African origins are fraught with difficulty even for those Creoles that, like Haitian or Saramac-can, show the greatest structural distance from their lexifiers.41 In trying to trace specific creole features to a particular language or group of languages, it is first necessary to show that speakers of those languages were present in sufficient numbers during the Creole’s inception to have induced the other groups involved in creating it to adopt the features in question. If Hall’s claim about the number of Africans who spoke the same or very similar languages is correct, it may be that this requirement has been met for Louisiana. Even in this case, though, it would still be necessary to identify the specific structural features to be attributed to these languages. Moreover, since most Creoles arose at least two or more centuries ago and all languages change over time, one should ideally compare the Creole’s structure to that of the African languages in question as they were spoken at the time of the Creole’s inception. This is, of course, almost never possible, since the only descriptions we have of most African languages are quite recent. But even when suitable demographic and linguistic data are available, great caution must still be exercised in attributing a substratal origin to a particular feature, since many features could just as easily be attributed to universal principles of language change or acquisition in situations of contact, or to a particular variety of the lexifier spoken in the colonial setting.42 It is beyond the scope of this study to carry out an exhaustive investigation of the question of African influence on the structure of Louisiana Creole. The language does, however, share with other Creoles a number of morphosyntactic features for which African origins have been claimed, and in light of Hall’s position, it will be useful to examine briefly the arguments that have been made in

favor of such claims as well as those that might be made against them.43 The features I will consider here are: (1) the use of a series of preverbal markers to express notions of tense, mood, and aspect; (2) the status of the copula; (3) predicate clefting; (4) the use of definite and demonstrative determiners that follow the noun; and (5) a noun pluralizer that is identical in form to the third person plural pronoun.44 In the verb phrase, one of the most widespread creole features for which African models have been claimed is the use of a series of free morphemes, or "markers," placed before the verb to express notions of tense, mood, and aspect. In Louisiana Creole the series of markers consists of ape/ap/pe/e (progressive), te (anterior), a/sa (future), se (conditional), and Ø (present before stative verbs, past before non-stative verbs).45 Holm (1988, 148–68) observes that the creole tense, mood, and aspect systems, which are strikingly similar from one creole to another even among those having different lexical bases, operate very differently from the way tense, mood, and aspect are expressed in the Creoles’ European lexifiers, where bound morphemes attached to the verb play a crucial role. At the same, he shows that they have close parallels to the verbal systems of some West African languages such as Yoruba and Bambara. While this seems to constitute a strong argument for substratal influence, it is also true that the preference for distinct, independent morphemes corresponding to each separate unit of meaning can be considered a universal tendency that we should not be surprised to see emerge in situations of language contact and second language acquisition such as those that gave rise to creole languages. Furthermore, clear models for both the phonological form and, to no small degree, the function of the preverbal markers of Louisiana Creole are to be found in French and its dialects: for ape, the dialectal expression ÊTRE APRÈS (lit., ‘to be after’) + infinitive, which is still found in Cajun French; for te, the imperfect and past participle forms of the auxiliary and copulative verb ÊTRE ‘to be’ (ÉTAIS, ÉTAIT, ÉTAIENT, ÉTÉ) followed by a past participle or a nominal, adjectival, or circumstantial complement; for a, the form VA of the verb ALLER ‘to go’ used as an auxiliary to form the analytical

future (JE VAIS MANGER ‘I’m going to eat,’ TU VAS MANGER ‘you’re going to eat,’ etc.); for sa, the form SERA, synthetic future of ÊTRE in the third person singular; and for se, various conditional forms of ÊTRE (JE SERAIS "I would be,’ IL SERAIT ‘he would be,’Ils seraient ‘they would be’). The creolization process resulted in a considerable restructuring of French input, so that the functioning of Louisiana Creole’s tense and aspect system as a whole is different from what we find in French. Still, the fact that the French etymon of each Creole marker is used in a function that is clearly related to that of its Creole reflex suggests primary influence from the superstrate in the constitution of the system and weakens the argument for substratal influence. Subtratal models have also been cited for the peculiar status of copulative verbs in creole languages. Generally speaking, the copula tends to be absent from a number of contexts where its presence in European lexifier languages is obligatory, in particular before an adjectival complement (e.g., Louisiana Creole Li malad vs. French IL EST MALADE ‘He is sick’). At the same time, some form of the copula does occur in most Creoles in equative structures having a noun complement (Louisiana Creole Mo se en doktè ‘I’m a doctor’) and in final position in interrogatives beginning with an interrogative pronoun or adverb (Louisiana Creole Ki lè li ye? ‘What time is it?’).46 Holm (1988, 175) points out that a similar distribution of the copula is found in a number of African substrate languages, including Yoruba and Mandinka. Yet here, too, universals might be invoked to explain the status of the copula in Creoles. Alleyne (1996, 86) observes that the copula "is not a strict necessity in the syntactic and semantic organization of languages" (my translation) and notes that some Indo-European languages, including Latin, only gradually acquired an obligatory copula (1996, 85). "[T]he precarious status and the vulnerability of the copula" in the world’s languages are due to its "small functional and semantic value," which Alleyne takes to be a universal feature of this syntactic category (1996, 87, my translation). To explain the way the copula operates in Creoles, Alleyne organizes its various functions according to a "hierarchy of values" in which the equational relation, or that in which the subject "equals" the

complement (e.g., Louisiana Creole Zirandèl se de ti zwazo nwa ‘Purple martins are little black birds’) is taken to be important and requires overt expression, whereas the attributive relation does not need to be reinforced by an overt element. This explains why equational sentences with a noun complement typically feature the copula, while sentences with an adjectival complement do not. Also appearing on the hierarchy of values is the need for a morpheme in predicate position in sentences where extraposition has left this position empty. In Louisiana Creole and most other French-lexifier creoles, this morpheme takes the form of the copula ye: Ki lè i ye? "What time is it?’; Ao to lasœrvel ye dan to latet? ‘Where is your brain in your head?’; Se kòm sa mo piti-ye ye ‘That’s how my children are.’ Alleyne’s analysis suggests that the status of the creole copula reflects universal principles of semantics and syntax. While this does not rule out the possibility of substratal influence, it does offer a plausible alternative explanation that makes recourse to substratal models less compelling.47 A third verbal structure that has substratal parallels is a type of highlighting in which a cleft complement introduced by presentative se is repeated in normal predicate position. In Louisiana I have found this kind of clefting to apply only to adjectives: Se malad li malad ‘He’s really sick’ (lit., ‘It’s sick he’s sick’); Se gro li gro ‘He’s really fat’ (lit., ‘It’s fat he’s fat’). A similar highlighting structure is found in many other Creoles and in the West African languages Yoruba and Mandinka (Holm 1998, 175, 179–82), but it typically can apply to verbs as well as to adjectives (e.g., Haitian Sé manjé, m ap manjé ‘I’m really eating’ [Valdman 1978, 262]). Since there are no parallels to this structure in European superstrate languages, this may be an instance where substratal influence provides the most plausible explanation. African models have also been invoked to explain structures in the Creole noun phrase. Of these, perhaps the most commonly discussed is a determiner system in which the definite, demonstrative, and, in some Creoles (but not in Louisiana), also the possessive determiners are placed after rather than before the noun

or the noun phrase. Thus in basilectal Louisiana Creole, the definite determiners are postposed -la (sg.) and -ye (pl.), while the demonstrative determiners are postposed -sa-la (sg.) and sa-ye (pl.): nòm-la ‘the man’; nòm-ye ‘the men’; èn dan nyès mo mari ye ‘one of my husband’s nieces’; nòm-sa-la ‘that man’; nòm-sa-ye ‘those men.’48 This kind of postnominal determination is very different from that of French or other European lexifier languages, but it is typical of a number of West African languages that were present in colonial societies where Creoles emerged (see, for example, Holm 1988, 190–94). It is clear, however, that the singular form -la owes its existence at least in part to the French adverb -LA, which is very common in vernacular French and carries a deictic force not unlike that of the creole determiner.49 At best, then, it would seem that a good case could be made for the convergence of substratal and superstratal influence in the development of this creole feature, as has been argued by Valdman (1993, 108). A somewhat stronger argument for substratal influence can be made in the case of the plural marker -ye.50 Like the plural marker of many other Creoles, Louisiana Creole -ye is clearly derived from the third person plural pronoun of the same form. This is also true of a number of West African languages. The possibility of a substratal model is strengthened by the lack of a plausible explanation based on universals. As Holm puts it, "This construction is so frequent in Kwa and other West African languages and so unusual among the world’s languages that no serious argument has ever been put forward attributing the creole construction to the influence of language universals rather than substrate influence" (1988, 193). G. Hazaël-Massieux (1991, 72–73), however, proposes an alternative explanation based on resumptive pronoun constructions like Fr. LES GARÇONS, ILS SONT PARTIS ‘The boys, they left.’ He notes numerous examples from the mid-eighteenth-century document Passion selon St-Jean en Langage nègre, representing an unspecified variety of Antillean creole, in which io [jo] appears between a 3 pl. noun subject and the verb: Tous zapotes la io dire à Jesi… ‘All the apostles said to Jesus…’ (1991, 72, my translation). Here the status of io is ambiguous. It could be interpreted as the

plural marker of a bimorphemic determiner la io or as the resumptive pronoun serving as subject of the verb dire. There are also examples, however, where the two elements are clearly dissociated: Sodas la qui pende li, io commencé séparé hardes ‘The soldiers who crucified (lit., hanged) him, they began to divide up (his) clothes’ (1991, 73, my translation). It is thus conceivable that the creole plural marker had its origin in a resumptive 3 pl. subject pronoun that was reanalyzed as a plural marker and eventually became grammaticalized in this function.51 Even in this instance, then, where the argument for substratal influence is particularly convincing, an alternative explanation based on a superstrate model cannot be ruled out. In sum, of these five features for which African models have often been claimed, only highlighting by means of a cleft adjectival predicate appears to have no plausible alternative explanation. The argument in favor of an African model for the plural marker -ye is fairly strong, but a possible superstratal or creole-internal model involving a resumptive third person plural pronoun must be considered as well. The remaining features, preverbal markers, the copula, and postposed determiners, can just as easily be attributed to superstratal models or language universals as to substratal influence and are perhaps best explained by the convergence of two or even all three of these factors. Thus while there is some evidence of African influence on the morpho-syntactic structure of Louisiana Creole, it is far from overwhelming and concerns a limited number of features. It is of course possible that evidence of more widespread substratal influence will eventually come to light, but the chances of this happening appear remote, given that Louisiana Creole bears greater structural resemblance to French than do most of the French-lexifier creoles. Moreover, it is relevant to point out that Louisiana Creole lacks two features for which some of the strongest substratal arguments have been made: an inclusive first person plural pronoun resulting from the fusion of the first and second person plural forms, found in Haitian Creole and Sranan,52 and ‘true’ serial verbs,

common in many Creoles of the world and also widely attested in West African languages.53 Based on the evidence currently available, we may conclude that claims of widespread African influence on the grammatical structure of Louisiana Creole are unfounded. Regardless of what traces of African languages future research might ultimately reveal in Louisiana Creole, it is likely that African language communities ceased to exist on any significant scale shortly after the arrival of the last slave shipment from Africa. Although it is not possible to determine with certainty when this occurred, the last legal shipment of Africans directly to Louisiana from outside the United States could not have come later than 1804, after which date the only new slaves allowed into the former colony were those born in or imported to other cities of the United States (Lachance 1979, 179–80).54 With the only means of replenishing their members severely limited, if not cut off entirely, these language communities, to the extent they did exist, were gradually absorbed into Louisiana’s highly original Creole culture and adopted Louisiana Creole or, increasingly, English as their vernacular language.55 As observed in 2.1, the documentary evidence shows that there was a creole language in Louisiana prior to the large-scale immigration of speakers of Haitian Creole from Saint-Domingue. While it seems probable that the development of this language spanned most of the eighteenth century, we have not yet addressed the question of just when the approximate Frenches (and the approximations of the approximate Frenches) spoken by the slaves cohered into a fairly stable creole language structurally autonomous from French. In the creolization scenario sketched out by Chaudenson (1992, 121), this occurs during the plantation phase of colonial development when masses of new slaves arrive in the colony, as was the case in Louisiana during the Spanish period. The documentary evidence, while sparse, lends some support to the idea that Louisiana Creole stabilized during Spanish rule. As we have seen, the French-period text from 1748 shows what appear to be nothing more than loosely structured approximations of French, while the slave testimony from

the 1791 text, though very short, conforms quite closely to modernday Creole. Just a year later, moreover, we find an explicit reference to "creole" (Criollo) being spoken by both blacks and whites in Pointe Coupee, which suggests that it had come to be perceived as a language variety distinct from French. It remains to be determined, however, what linguistic developments occurred during the long break in the African slave trade to Louisiana between the end of regular shipments during the French regime and the resumption of shipments under the Spanish. As previously noted, slaves were imported in large numbers for a twelve-year period (from 1719 to 1731), during which time many were already concentrated on large estates. Then, with the exception of one shipment in 1743, there was a hiatus of some thirty-five years before the importation of Africans began again under Spanish rule. It is possible that nothing more than a continuum of approximate varieties more or less distantly removed from French continued to be spoken between 1731 and 1766, as the 1748 texts suggest.56 But given the size of the slave population and its growth through natural increase during this period, it is conceivable that a more stable, but as yet undocumented, creole had already developed before the Spanish undertook the re-Africanization of the colony.57 Unless new Louisiana Creole texts from the mid-eighteenth century come to light to confirm this, however, we can only consider it a distinct possibility supported by the demographic facts.

2.4 The Question of Multiple Geneses of Louisiana Creole58 A final point to be considered in examining the development of Louisiana Creole is that of its specific place of origin within the colony. Given the former geographic distribution of the language and the regional variation it shows today, two opposing hypotheses present themselves. One is that the language arose once in a single location and later spread to other regions where it subsequently

diverged from its original form to a greater or lesser degree, depending on the demographic and sociolinguistic situation in each region. This is the hypothesis that Neumann (1985a, 44ff.) implicitly adopts when she claims that the more acrolectal nature of Breaux Bridge Creole as compared to the Creole of nineteenth-century texts is due to recent decreolization resulting from prolonged contact between speakers of Creole and Cajun in the Breaux Bridge area. The alternative hypothesis is that there were multiple geneses of Louisiana Creole—one in the New Orleans area, one in Mobile, one in Pointe Coupee, one in the Bayou Teche region, and so on—in which case the differences among the varieties may be traceable to their origins within different contexts. I evoked this hypothesis several years ago as a possible explanation of the differences between the Creole of Pointe Coupee and that of Breaux Bridge (Klingler 1993), but, as will be explained below, I now consider it unlikely. The idea that the differences between these varieties of Louisiana Creole might be traceable to separate origins has recently been explored in greater depth by Speedy (1994, 1995), who follows Neumann (1985a, 21) in distinguishing two main varieties, Mississippi Creole and Teche Creole. For Speedy, the first includes both the type of Creole represented in nineteenth-century texts and Pointe Coupee Creole as described by Klingler (1992), while the second includes the Creole of Breaux Bridge as described by Neumann (1985a) and the Creole of St. Martinville as described by Broussard (1942). She considers it "almost certain" that the differences between Mississippi and Teche Creole cannot be explained by decreolization but instead are attributable to "two separate starting points," Teche Creole having emerged much later than Mississippi Creole and, crucially, with the participation of slaves from Saint-Domingue who already spoke the creole of that colony. What is almost certain… is that the concept of decreolization, as it is normally understood, cannot be used to explain the differences between Mississippi and Tèche Creole. Demographic evidence clearly indicates that there were two separate starting points for

Creole in Louisiana. Tèche Creole emerged quite some time after Mississippi Creole on the other side of the Atchafalaya Basin, a natural barrier. Unlike Mississippi Creole which was an entirely indigenous creation (i.e. slaves speaking African languages were instrumental in its evolution), Creole-speaking slaves from SaintDomingue had a major input into the latter language. (Speedy 1994, 129–30; 1995, 109) In what follows I examine the demographic and linguistic evidence for both parts of this claim: (1) that there were separate starting points for Mississippi and Teche Creole, and (2) that Haitian-Creolespeaking slaves from Saint-Domingue played a significant role in the development of Teche Creole. The relevant demographic evidence consists of data on the ethnic composition of the region and, more specifically, on the settlement of Saint-Domingue refugees there; for the multiple geneses hypothesis to be plausible, it must be shown, first, that the demographic and the socio-linguistic contexts were appropriate for the development of a creole language and, second, that immigrants from Saint-Domingue were present in sufficient numbers to have influenced this process. Speedy also bases her hypothesis on a comparison of relative clauses in Teche Creole as described by Neumann (1985a) and in Pointe Coupee Creole as described by Klingler (1992). I reexamine this comparative linguistic data in the light of additional material I have gathered from speakers of Pointe Coupee Creole since the appearance of Klingler (1992) (see also 5.4.5.). Finally, I conduct a three-way comparison of Haitian, Teche, and Pointe Coupee Creole in order to determine whether one variety of Louisiana Creole shares a greater number of features with Haitian than does the other Louisiana variety. If Speedy’s hypothesis is correct, we should expect to find a greater affinity between Haitian and Teche Creole than between Haitian and Pointe Coupee Creole.

The Argument for Separate Origins

Demographic Evidence For a creole language to have arisen in the Teche region independently of its congener in the Mississippi Valley, I will assume, first, that slaves of heterogeneous linguistic backgrounds must have made up a substantial portion of the population, and, second, that the creation of a new language was necessary because the slaves did not already possess a common language for communication among themselves and with the white settlers.59 A look at the demographic record shows that the former Attakapas district, where Creole is spoken today, received very little white settlement until the 1760s, just about the time an autonomous creole language was probably emerging along the Mississippi River, to the east. Many of the earliest settlers were Acadian exiles who began arriving in the area in 1766 (Brasseaux 1987, 93). That year, the first for which population data are available for the Attakapas, the district counted just 138 free persons and 24 slaves (Rodríguez 1979, 413, cuadro 1.2 A; 438, cuadro 1.8. A). In 1777, out of a meager population of 841 (grouped into 106 families), there were 539 whites and just 302 blacks (a figure that apparently includes 37 free blacks) (De Ville 1987, 16).60 In contrast to the large slaveholdings of the Mississippi Valley, the two largest slaveholders in the Attakapas owned just 31 and 30 slaves, six others owned more than 20, and the vast majority of families owned just a few slaves or none at all (De Ville 1987, 7– 16). At the time of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, the free population had grown to 2,244 and the slave population to 1,250, but the ratio of 1.80 free residents to each slave remained almost precisely what it had been in 1777. While the proportion of slaves to free persons increased gradually in the following decades, it was not until the 1830 census that more slaves than free persons were recorded in the region. The rapid development of the sugar industry caused the number of slaves to rise dramatically thereafter, and by 1840 there were 2.25 slaves for every free person. Table 3: Free Persons and Slaves in the Attakapas District, 1766–1860

It is not until after 1830, then, that we find in the Attakapas region the high ratio of slaves to free persons that is typically associated with creole development. Of course, these figures are for the region as a whole and do not tell us how the slaves were distributed. On some larger estates slaves would naturally have been in the majority well before 1830 such that, when considered at the level of individual plantations, conditions might have been favorable for the creation of a creole language. After 1830, the ratio of free persons to slaves in the region as a whole became significantly more favorable for creole development. But these numbers do not tell the whole story. A second crucial issue to be considered is that of the slaves’ linguistic backgrounds. Even though slaves began to outnumber free persons by 1830 and outnumbered them by a ratio of more than two to one in 1840, a (new) creole language would only have had its raison d’être if there were no previously existing common medium of communication

widely shared among slaves and free settlers alike. Speedy assumes that such a medium did not exist in the late eighteenth century because, in her estimation, most of the slaves brought to the Teche region between 1765 and 1791 were not speakers of Louisiana Creole who had been transplanted from the Mississippi Valley but instead were newcomers from Africa or the Caribbean who, upon their arrival in Louisiana, began speaking "highly variable (pidginized) L2 varieties of (Acadian) French."61 She goes on to claim that "the arrival of large numbers of Haitian Creole-speaking slaves into such a community" had a significant impact on linguistic developments (1994, 129; 1995, 108). The question of Haitian influence will be taken up later. For now I will focus on the presumed linguistic heterogeneity of slaves in the Teche region. Table 4 provides information on slaves inventoried in the region by Hall (2000b) in the Spanish and early American periods. While I have included data on the Opelousas district (later, St. Landry Parish) for comparative purposes, I will focus here on the 1,169 slaves listed in Spanish-period documents from the Attakapas district for the years 1770–1803. Of these, 648 (55.4 percent) have no origin specified, while 521 (44.6 percent) do have an identified origin. Africans constitute the largest group of slaves with identified origins, numbering 282 (54.1 percent), whereas Creoles, or slaves born in the colony, number 197 (37.8 percent). The figures for the Opelousas district are comparable, though here Africans, while still constituting the single largest group of slaves of identified origin, do not form a majority, and slaves of Anglo origin are far more numerous than in the Attakapas district. Similar trends hold during the early American period, though a much lower percentage of slaves, just 5.7, are identified by birthplace. Table 4: Origins of Slaves Appearing in Documents from St. Martin and St. Landry Parishes

Assuming that these figures are representative of the general slave population, they show that most slaves brought to the Attakapas district during the Spanish period were not Louisiana natives. This does not entail, however, that they had not spent time in other parts of Louisiana and that they were not speakers of Mississippi Creole. Of crucial importance here is that nearly all slaves imported from Africa would have passed through New Orleans before being taken west of the Atchafalaya Basin. Depending on how much time they spent in New Orleans or on estates in the Mississippi Valley, they could have had considerable exposure to the creole language that, as Speedy herself has argued, had already developed in that region by the Spanish period (1994, 110; 1995).

A clue to the length of time spent in the Mississippi Valley is provided by data on the ages of Africans in the Attakapas district. Table 5 shows the mean ages of both Africans and Creoles in the Attakapas, by five-year periods; for purposes of comparison, the ages of newly arrived Africans in Louisiana as a whole are also provided. (Columns three, five, and seven specify the number of cases in which a slave’s age is noted in a document.) As Table 5 makes clear, the mean ages of Africans in the Attakapas are consistently higher than those of newly arrived Africans in Louisiana for all years, even rising above 50 in 1780–1784. This suggests that many of the Africans in the Attakapas were not taken to that district immediately upon their arrival in Louisiana but first spent several years in the Mississippi Valley. This being the case, there is a strong possibility that these Africans brought a version of Mississippi Creole with them when they were sold into the Attakapas region,62 which would have reduced the necessity for the creation of a new medium of interethnic communication. Table 5: Mean Ages of Africans and Creoles in the Attakapas and of Newly Arrived Africans in All of Louisiana, by Five-Year Periods, 1770– 1820

Turning now to the data on Creoles in Table 4, we note that they represent a substantial percentage (37.8) of slaves inventoried during the Spanish period. It seems obvious that any Creoles who were born in the Mississippi Valley would also have been conduits for the importation of Mississippi Creole into the Teche region. However, as Table 5 shows, the mean ages of Creoles in the region were very low for most of the period, suggesting that a majority were in fact born there and were not imported from elsewhere (Gwendolyn Hall, personal communication, November 25, 1999). While the smaller number of Creoles who did come from east of the Atchafalaya surely reinforced the creole language in the Attakapas district, these age statistics support the conclusion that Africans having spent time in the Mississippi Valley were primarily responsible for importing Mississippi Creole to the area.

Linguistic Evidence If there were indeed separate geneses for Mississippi and Teche Creole, this ought to be reflected in structural differences between

the two varieties. Just how significant these differences would need to be to constitute evidence of separate geneses is difficult to determine, in particular since a high degree of similarity between the varieties is virtually assured by their both having had similar input from vernacular French. Indeed, all of the French-based Creoles share a great number of features and, as suggested above, the linguistic evidence is sufficiently ambiguous to make it impossible for linguists to agree on how many, if any, of these Creoles arose separately from the others. Determining the cause of those differences that do exist between Mississippi and Teche Creole is complicated by the fact that speakers of the latter have remained in close contact with speakers of Cajun for generations. A given feature that differs in the two varieties might be seen as evidence of their separate origins, but if the Teche variant is more acrolectal than the Mississippi variant, it could just as easily be attributed to more recent influence on Teche Creole from Cajun, as argued by Neumann (1985a, 44–70). Speedy seeks to overcome the problem of possible recent influence from Cajun by focusing on relativization strategies since, judging from the results of Corne’s study of Tayo, Reunion Creole, and Isle de France Creole (Corne, 1994),63 it appears that modern relative clause structures emerged early in the course of creole development "and thus bear witness, perhaps in diluted form over time, to that early period" of the Creole’s formation (Speedy 1994, 131). On this basis, Speedy concludes that differences in the relativization strategies of Mississippi and Teche Creole may be assumed to date back to their formative periods and "should not… be explainable by decreolization" (1994, 132). The conclusion that relative clauses in Teche Creole have not been modified in the direction of Cajun receives support from Speedy’s comparison of relative clauses in the modern-day language with those found in nineteenth-century Louisiana Creole texts (1994, 164–65). She shows that relative clause structures in the two varieties match very closely, making it unlikely that the structures found in Teche Creole today are the result of recent convergence.

There is, however, an inherent contradiction in Speedy’s comparative approach. On one hand, she compares relative clauses in Teche Creole and in Pointe Coupee Creole, which she takes to be "an isolated descendant of early MIS [Mississippi Creole]" (1994, 169), and cites the differences she finds as evidence for a separate genesis for the Teche and the Mississippi varieties. On the other hand, she uses the similarities between Teche Creole and nineteenth-century Louisiana Creole relative clauses as evidence that relative structures in the former are not the result of recent convergence. The problem lies in Speedy’s acknowledgment that nineteenth-century Louisiana Creole texts are, with one exception, representative of "the Creole spoken in the greater New Orleans area" and thus of Mississippi Creole (1994, 150).64 This means that the similarities she notes between Teche Creole and nineteenthcentury texts, while bolstering one of her claims, at the same time undermine her central claim of a separate genesis for the Creoles of the Teche and the Mississippi. (This problem is also noted by Corne 1999, 122). Even if we put aside this contradiction, however, a closer examination of the data show that the differences are not as great as Speedy’s analysis suggests. Based on her comparison of the data contained in Neumann (1985a), for Teche, and in my 1992 dissertation (Klingler 1992), for Pointe Coupee, she identifies eight ways in which relative clauses differ in the two varieties (Speedy 1994, 147–49). However, some of the differences she notes are based on the somewhat incomplete data on relatives that I provided in 1992. Additional data from Pointe Coupee (presented in Chapter 4), as well as a reexamination of some of Speedy’s analyses of the original data, show that the original eight differences she noted between relativization strategies in Pointe Coupee and Teche Creole can in fact be reduced to just three: (1) the existence of a "special relativizer" ti (subject) in addition to ki in Pointe Coupee, where Teche Creole has only ki, and the elision of the vowel of subject ki before /t/; (2) the use of sg./pl. relative subject pronoun sa + ki ‘the one /those who’ in Pointe Coupee versus sg. sila + ki and pl. sa/lezla/sezla + ki in Teche; and (3) the greater frequency of direct-

object relativization in Teche as compared with Pointe Coupee. The differences are reduced further still, however, if we consider that sila + ki is in fact attested in a 1930 Master’s thesis on Pointe Coupee Creole (Jarreau 1931, 32b, 53b), and that sezla can best be explained as a recent borrowing from Cajun, as suggested by Neumann (1985a, 174 n. 3). Add to this the fact that, by Speedy’s own account (1994, 164–65), relativization strategies in Teche Creole closely resemble those of nineteenth-century texts, which, as we have seen, are mainly representative of Mississippi Creole, and it would seem that the comparative data on relatives in Pointe Coupee, Teche, and nineteenth-century texts reveal a high degree of structural unity among the three varieties that speaks in favor of their common origin.65 It appears then, that neither the demographic nor the linguistic evidence supports the hypothesis of separate geneses for Teche and Pointe Coupee Creole. The Question of Influence from Haitian Creole Demographic Evidence We have seen that the multiple geneses hypothesis carried with it a second claim, namely, that the development of Teche Creole was significantly influenced by Haitian Creole-speaking slaves who arrived in the Teche area during the mass immigration of SaintDomingue refugees to Louisiana in 1809–1810: "A group who was to greatly influence the direction Louisiana Creole was to take, at least in the areas of Saint-Martin Parish, were those slaves who accompanied their masters in their flight from Saint-Domingue after the Black insurrection of 1791.… Some of these newcomers established themselves in New Orleans but the vast majority settled alongside the Acadians in Saint-Martinville, in the Attakapas territory" (Speedy 1994, 105). A look at the demographic record, however, suggests quite a different pattern of settlement. From the founding of the Louisiana colony in 1699 to the end of the eighteenth century, very few persons, free or enslaved, emigrated from the wealthy Saint-Domingue colony to Louisiana. As explained

in 1.4.2, however, the events of the Haitian Revolution, beginning in 1791 and lasting until 1804, brought about a mass exodus of whites, free people of color, and slaves, many of whom eventually made their way to Louisiana, usually after brief stays elsewhere. At first, only relatively small numbers of Saint-Domingue refugees showed up in Louisiana. Estimates are that about 100 arrived between 1791 and 1797, another 200 between 1797 and 1802, and somewhat more than 1,000 in 1803 and 1804 (Debien and Le Gardeur 1992, 239). Although the refugees sometimes brought slaves with them, slave numbers were very small, especially before 1803. This was due to severe restrictions placed on slave importations to Louisiana from Saint-Domingue, inspired by fears that rebellious slaves from this colony would encourage revolt among Louisiana’s slave population.66 The most significant wave of immigration of SaintDomingue refugees occurred in the years 1809–1810, when more than 10,000 whites, free persons of color, and slaves sought refuge in Louisiana upon being expelled from their original place of exile, Cuba, by the Spanish. Unlike the earlier waves of refugees, this group included a significant number of slaves. A Mayor’s Report published in 1810 provided figures broken down by status, race, and sex for 9,059 of these new arrivals. These are shown in Table 6. Table 6: Saint-Domingue Refugees Arriving in New Orleans from Cuba, 1809–1810

It is not possible to ascertain with certainty where most of these persons went. This is especially true in the case of the slaves, about whom only limited information is available. There is evidence, however, that the vast majority of those arriving from Saint-

Domingue remained in New Orleans, while only a small number settled in rural areas. Lachance explains that the destitute condition of many of the refugees initially made it impossible for them to leave New Orleans. Yet even when opportunities to leave were made available, a great many preferred to remain in the city, much to the distress of American officials wary of an increase in the city’s Gallic population (1992a, 259–60). Brasseaux and Conrad (1992b, x, xii), who have examined church and census records from the first two decades of the nineteenth century, also conclude that the overwhelming majority of Saint-Domingue refugees remained in New Orleans. It is true that the census figures give an incomplete picture of the refugee population because they represent only "property-holding heads of household" and thus do not include slaves (the group that interests us most) or whites who did not own property (Brasseaux and Conrad 1992b, x). Fortunately, this gap has been partly filled by data on Louisiana slaves provided in Hall (2000b), described above. Containing 100,364 records on slaves, the database represents a very substantial portion of Louisiana’s entire slave population. The picture remains less than perfect, since some slaves are simply not mentioned in historical documents, and when a slave is mentioned, more often than not his or her origin is not specified.67 Nevertheless, these data, when combined with those from church and census records, give us the fullest account possible, based on existing documents, of the distribution of Saint-Domingue slaves in Louisiana. In all, the Louisiana Slave Database lists 810 slaves whose place of birth is identified as Saint-Domingue; 702 of these appear in documents dating from after 1808.68 When documents from St. Martin Parish and the parishes that were later carved out of it are examined for all periods up to 1820, it is astonishing to note that not a single slave is identified as having come from Saint-Domingue, whereas documents from New Orleans specify such an origin for 727 slaves.69 These documents do not, of course, tell the whole story, since, as previously noted, not all slaves appear in the

documents inventoried and, furthermore, of all slaves who do appear in the documents from this region, over 80 percent have no place of origin specified. When records of slave sales that occurred outside of St. Martin Parish are examined, nine slaves having come to Louisiana via the "French Islands" (without further specification of origin) are shown to have been sold to a resident of St. Martin Parish, as is one slave identified specifically as having been born in Saint-Domingue. There were surely more Saint-Domingue slaves than this who were brought to the lower Teche region, but these data do suggest that their numbers were very small, especially in comparison to those who remained in the New Orleans area.70 Thus the demographic evidence, incomplete though it may be, contradicts the claim that a majority of Saint-Domingue refugees and their slaves settled in St. Martinville or even in the Teche region. There is, in fact, no demographic basis for supposing that Haitian Creole had any substantial influence on the Louisiana Creole of that region. To the contrary, judging from the demographic record, any influence from Haitian would be more likely to show up in the creole of the New Orleans area, where, as we have seen, a substantial majority of Saint-Domingue slaves in fact remained.

Linguistic Evidence If it were true that Haitian Creole had an important influence on the development of Teche Creole, we should expect to find a greater number of features shared by Teche Creole and Haitian than by Mississippi Creole and Haitian, even allowing for the movement of Teche Creole toward Cajun in recent years. To see if such were indeed the case, I examined both modern and nineteenth-century documentation of Teche and Mississippi Creole for features that were found in only one of the two varieties but that were also shared with Haitian, as represented either in modern descriptions of the language or in earlier attestations of it.71 While this comparison was not exhaustive and must be considered preliminary, the results are indicative. Far from confirming a greater influence of Haitian on Teche Creole, the comparison turned up five features found in

Haitian and Mississippi but not in Teche Creole and only one feature found in Haitian and Teche but not in Mississippi Creole.72 The relevant features are listed below. A feature shared by Haitian and Teche Creole (but not attested in Mississippi Creole): The only such feature I have identified is the lexical item mitan ‘middle.’ a. Haitian: fanm-lan se nan mitan de gason-yo ‘the woman is between the two boys.’ (Valdman et al. 1981) b. Teche: ye monte onho én don LOG-ye don miton RIVER-la ‘they climbed on one of the logs in the middle of the river.’ (Neumann 1985a, 406, my translation) (Miton is also attested in Morgan 1960.) This lexical item is not attested to in any variety of Mississippi Creole, and it was not recognized by several Pointe Coupee speakers I consulted. Features shared by Haitian and Mississippi Creole (but not attested in Teche Creole): (1) The plural definite/deictic determiner -la-yo/-la-ye. In early attestations of both Haitian and Mississippi Creole, this determiner is composed of two elements, definite -la and plural -yo (Haitian) / -ye (Mississippi). Haitian examples (Ducoeurjoly 1802, 286, 309, 312, my translations): a. cinq villes la yo bon Dieu té bytmé ‘the five cities that God destroyed.’ b. retrancher z’abus la yo ‘eliminate these abuses.’ c. ly mandé communication à pièce là yo ‘he asked for the documents.’

d. soldat layo mené nion vie qui dir ‘the soldiers lead a hard life.’ e. Soulier layo pas douré arien ‘these shoes don’t last at all.’ Nineteenth-century Louisiana example (Neumann-Holzschuh 1987, 9, my translation): f. Cofair to pa jité vilin Compair Lapin dan zéronce là yé? ‘Why don’t you toss evil Br’er Rabbit into the briers?’ This form is not attested in early or modern Teche Creole, and today it has disappeared from all varieties of Louisiana Creole, replaced in most cases simply by -ye (though -le is attested in St. Tammany Parish). (2) Possessives having the structure Noun + a + Pronoun. This structure is well attested in early Haitian Creole and is still found today in the dialect of northern Haiti: café à li ‘his coffee’; rade à nou ‘our harbor’ (Ducoeurjoly 1802, 388, 357, cited in Neumann 1985b, 87).73 While Neumann (1985a, 130) does note a few examples with apparently similar structures, these instances differ crucially in that, as occurs frequently in French, a + Pronoun is used for emphasis in conjunction with a preposed possessive determiner: No vye paron a nouzot te esklav ‘Our ancestors were slaves’; don motchen ton a mon ‘in my youth’ (my translation). My corpus also contains one example of a + Pronoun: Mo te gen bon lenj a mon (NH) ‘I had my good (i.e., dress) clothes.’74 Aside from these few examples, this structure is not attested in any variety of modern Louisiana Creole or in early Teche Creole, all of which uniformly use Possessive Determiner + Noun. It is, however, mentioned by Mercier in his late nineteenth-century description of Mississippi Creole (1880, 381), in which he explicitly attributes its use in Louisiana to the influence of the Saint-Domingue emigres. The structure must never have been common, however, for it is not attested in other nineteenth-century texts and, as Neumann (1985b, 107–108 n. 37) notes, even Mercier never actually used it in any of the Creole texts he composed.75 This structure is evidence, then, of a rather superficial and ephemeral influence of Haitian Creole on Mississippi Creole.

(3) Possessive pronoun constructions consisting of kèn/kin/kyèn/tyèn + a + Possessor. This structure is well attested in early Haitian Creole and still characterizes the northern dialect (Goodman, 1964, p. 55),76 but it is not typical of Louisiana Creole, which forms its possessive pronoun by placing the particle -kèn, -tchèn after the possessive determiner: motchèn lamezon ‘my house’; tokèn popa ‘your father.’ However, there are two late nineteenth-century attestations of the structure kèn + Possessor, which matches the Haitian construction except for the absence of a (from the French preposition À). One appears in the speech of a slave in Mercier’s novel L’Habitation Saint-Ybars (Mercier, [1881] 1989, 124): a. Dimin, vou connin, cé ain granjou, cé jou niversaire vou nessance é kenne mamzel Chant-d’Oisel ‘Tomorrow, you know, is a great day, it’s your birthday and that of Miss Chant-d’Oisel.’ The other was noted by Fortier (1895, 78) in the speech of an informant from New Orleans: b. So litte té a coté quenne piti garçon la ‘His bed was beside the little boy’s/ that of the little boy.’ My Pointe Coupee corpus also contains several examples of this structure with kenn and tchenn as pronouns: c. kenn doktè (OL) ‘the doctor’s (book).’ d. Se kèn mo sè. (OL) [trans.] ‘(This is my book and) that’s my sister’s.’ e. Wi, t ena lòt chanchon men, mo janmen kontinye avek ye pase mo te ja tournen kote Bæbtis. Se ich tchenn Bæbtis astè mo konnen (YC) ‘Yes, there were other songs but I never continued with (i.e., continued to sing) them because I had already switched (from the Catholic church) to the Baptist church. It’s just the Baptist ones I know now.’

This structure, which is not attested in Teche Creole, represents another possible example of influence from Haitian on Mississippi Creole. (4) Serial verbs. As explained in Neumann (1985a, 268–70) and as seen in sections 2.3 and 6.8, it is questionable whether modern-day Louisiana Creole can be said to have true serial verbs. Serial-like constructions in Louisiana Creole invariably consist of a verb of motion followed by a focus verb, never the other way around. The two verbs do not appear to act as a true semantic unit; rather, the verb of motion either adds a nuance of meaning that is so slight it is often difficult to translate or expresses an action that took place before the action expressed by the focus verb. a. Mo pa wa loer li vini rive ‘I didn’t see what time he arrived.’ (Neumann 1985a, 269, my translation) b. Ye te kouri koupe diri pou si eskalen par jour ‘They went to cut rice for seventy-five cents a day.’ (Neumann 1985a, 269, my translation) c. Mo vini koze ave G. ‘I came to chat with G.’ (DG) There is, however, one attestation in nineteenth-century Mississippi Creole of a more classic type of serial verb involving the verb porté (lit., ‘carry’) followed by the verb dòn ‘to give’ in a dative function. It appears in a song published as part of a skit set in New Orleans. Ma lé la campagne, chère amie Ma lé coupé canne, chère amie Ma fé plin largen, chère Pou porté donne toi. (Wogan 1931, 32–33)77

I’m going to the country, dear friend I’m going to cut cane, dear friend I’m going to make lots of money, dear To bring to you. (my translation)

This construction matches one with ba/ bay found in early and modern Haitian Creole: d. porté z’acra ba moué ‘bring me some acras.’78 (Ducoeurjoly 1802, 286, my translation from Ducoeurjoly’s French) e. Hé! gros Jean, porté bay-nou nion coupe galette biscouit blanc ‘Hey! Big John, bring us a couple of white biscuits!’ (Ducoeurjoly 1802, 361, my translation from Ducoeurjoly’s French) f. Boli pòt véso bâ-m tiré bèf-la ba ou ‘Let Boli bring a vessel for me to milk the cow for you.’ (Hall [1953] 1969, 78) (5) Comparative with pase. Comparatives consisting of an optional comparative term (pi ‘more,’ mwens ‘less’) + Adjective, Adverb, or Noun Phrase + pase are common in Haitian: a. piti pasé mwê ‘smaller than me.’ (Hall [1953] 1969, 52) b. Li pi wo pase m ‘He’s taller than I am.’ (Valdman et al. 1981). They are also well attested in nineteenth-century Mississippi Creole and are still marginally used today in Pointe Coupee (see 6.11): c. Li pli gro michié passé toi ‘He’s a more important gentleman than you.’ (Neumann-Holzschuh 1987, 14, my translation) d. Mo gran pase mo sè ‘I’m taller than my sister.’ (ID) In Teche Creole, however, the only attested comparative for any period is Adverb + Adjective or Adverb + ke: e. Li pa plu rich keJOHN ‘He’s no richer than John.’ (Neumann 1985a, 147) Two other features shared by Louisiana Creole and Haitian Creole that are worth noting are the verb bay, baye (< French BAILLER) ‘give’ and a passive structure using the verb trouve:

f. Haitian: jeune homme la té-trouver blessé par ioun lautre ‘the young man was wounded by another.’ (Faine 1936, 170, my translation) g. Louisiana: Na pa pèrsòn ki trouve tchwè, en? ‘No one was killed, were they?’ (NF) Both of these, however, are attested in Mississippi as well as in Teche Creole and thus do not serve to distinguish these varieties. The verb bay, baye, though rare, is attested in nineteenth-century texts representative of Mississippi Creole,79 and while it appears neither in Neumann (1985a) nor in my Pointe Coupee corpus, it does appear in two contemporary poems by Debbie Clifton, who is from Lake Charles (Ancelet et al. 1980, 69, 70, 76, 77).80 The passive with trouve is also attested in both Teche Creole (li trouve stropye par en chval ‘He was crippled by a horse,’ Corne and Neumann 1984, 78) and Pointe Coupee Creole (see example [5]g above).81 Still to be considered is a final bit of linguistic evidence that does not concern the influence of Haitian on any variety of Louisiana Creole but does speak in favor of a common origin for Mississippi and Teche Creoles and thus against the multiple geneses hypothesis. Teche Creole today has a class of two-stem verbs in which a short stem is used in the habitual/universal present, in the 2 sg. imperative, and with the impersonal expression ifo, while a long stem is used in all other contexts (see 6.1.1). This system is described in Neumann (1985a, 188–99) and, although Broussard (1942) does not mention it, the same system clearly emerges from his data (e.g., [je lɑv ] ‘They wash themselves’ [8] versus [li pote ] ‘He brought me some’ [10]). The two-stem verb system of Teche Creole contrasts with the Creole of nineteenth-century texts in which verbs have a single form used in all contexts. Yet as Hull (1983, 9) and Neumann (1985a, 197) have pointed out, in nearly all of the proverbs Broussard records, only long verb forms are used, despite the fact that they are stated in the universal present, a context in which the short form would be required today.82 Below are a few examples of

these (Broussard 1942, 33–37, my translations of Broussard’s French): a. [tu makak truve so piti ʒoli] ‘Even the monkey thinks its child is pretty.’ b. [buki fe c. [sɑ ki dromi pɑ eating.’

li] ‘Goat83 makes the gumbo, Rabbit eats it.’ ] ‘He who sleeps does not think about

Given that proverbs tend to preserve archaic usage, we may conclude that Teche Creole once shared with nineteenth-century Mississippi Creole a system of invariant, one-stem verbs and that the system of two-stem verbs found in Teche Creole today is a recent innovation most likely attributable to Cajun influence. This increases the likelihood that Teche Creole did not arise separately from Mississippi Creole but represents instead an importation of the latter to the Teche region.84 In sum, the claims that there were separate geneses for Mississippi and Teche Creole and that Haitian Creole played a major role in the development of the latter are supported by neither the demographic nor the linguistic evidence. To the contrary, the demographic evidence suggests, first, that many of the slaves brought to the Teche area were Louisiana Creoles who probably already spoke the creole language of the Mississippi Valley and second, that the vast majority of slaves from Saint-Domingue remained in New Orleans, while only very few were taken to the Teche region. Likewise, the linguistic evidence does not reveal substantial differences between Teche and Mississippi Creole that would point to separate geneses for the two varieties. However, Mississippi Creole, especially in the nineteenth century, does display a number of features that are not attested in the Teche variety but that are found in early or in modernday Haitian. While it is not certain that the existence of these features in Mississippi Creole can be attributed to contact between speakers of this variety and Creole-speaking slaves from SaintDomingue, the fact that most of the features are only sporadically

attested historically and have today disappeared from Louisiana Creole altogether suggests the kind of superficial, short-lived influence that we might expect a single wave of Haitian Creolespeaking immigrants to have had on a Louisiana Creole language that was already firmly implanted by the time of their arrival. Most of the remaining differences between Mississippi and Teche Creole are best explained by recent influence from Cajun on the latter variety, as originally proposed by Neumann. Considered from a broader perspective, the real story of the origin of Louisiana Creole is no doubt more complex than either the singlegenesis or multiple-geneses hypothesis would suggest. Slaves in colonial Louisiana’s fluid and linguistically heterogeneous society probably began early on to speak highly variable, approximate varieties of French that started to cohere into a relatively stable creole language on the plantations flanking New Orleans at Chapitoulas and Bas du Fleuve. These were the areas where great disproportions between the slave and white populations emerged within a few years of the first slave shipments and persisted throughout most of the eighteenth century, thus providing the most propitious context for "approximations of approximations" of French (see Chaudenson 1992 and section 2.2 above) to develop and, eventually, evolve into an autonomous language. These approximate varieties of French and, later, this early form of creole, were then spread around the colony by slaves who were sold to far-off estates or who traveled away from the city and its surrounding plantations, whether to work for their masters, to engage in petty trade for their own benefit, or for other reasons. While this does not necessarily mean that Louisiana Creole was transplanted directly from the New Orleans area to the outlying regions where, no doubt, approximate varieties of French were already being spoken, it does suggest that the language varieties that the slaves who had lived in the New Orleans area took with them when they traveled were likely to have been more fully developed and stabilized than the local varieties and were therefore particularly influential in shaping the creole that came to be spoken in each locality. In this way incipient, divergent tendencies based on region were kept in check, though perhaps not

completely eradicated, thus paving the way for the widespread use of a relatively homogeneous language. Given that the Teche area was settled late in comparison to the Creole-speaking areas along the Mississippi, it is all the more likely that a fairly stable creole was brought to the Teche by westward-moving settlers and their slaves. In subsequent years the presence of large numbers of Cajun speakers and the breakdown of some of the social barriers separating blacks and poor whites led to a substantial influence of Cajun on Creole along the Teche (Neumann 1985a, 41, 48), while in more easterly pockets such as Pointe Coupee Parish the line of demarcation between Creole and other French-related varieties remained clearer. This explains why Pointe Coupee appears to preserve older, more basilectal forms of Creole that more closely resemble what we find in nineteenth-century texts.

Conclusion While most details about the origin and development of Louisiana Creole remain shrouded in the past, we can be fairly certain from historical accounts like those of Ricard (1992) and Robin (1807) that it has existed as a stable, autonomous language in Louisiana since at least the late eighteenth century, and we can affirm unequivocally that it was not brought to Louisiana directly from Saint-Domingue by refugees of the Haitian Revolution. Beyond this, there is little concrete evidence to tell us how the language evolved and whether it was fully indigenous to Louisiana or developed out of a pre-existing pidgin or creole brought from the African coast or from the Caribbean. Neither the demographic nor the linguistic record speaks strongly in favor of an imported base for Louisiana Creole, however, and it seems more reasonable to assume that the language arose within Louisiana’s multilingual colonial society when, in a specific type of second language acquisition, Africans began speaking "approximations of approximations" of French. This process took place in a context that in many respects fit Chaudenson’s model of an initial small-farm economy followed by large-scale plantations. There were important differences, however, between this model and

the Louisiana context. First, large slaveholdings emerged rather early on in Louisiana, well before the plantation economy based on sugar and cotton became firmly established. At the same time, the farmstead and plantation were by no means the only contexts for contact and cultural exchange between colonists, slaves, and Indians. Many slaves worked not in a rural setting but in New Orleans, and rural and urban slaves alike frequently traveled away from their place of residence, interacting with Indians, poor whites, and other slaves. All of these avenues of contact between the colony’s various linguistic and cultural groups must be taken into account when studying the origin of Louisiana Creole. Finally, if Hall is correct in interpreting "Bambara" and other designations of slaves’ nations in colonial documents to be accurate reflections of ethnic group membership, then Louisiana’s slave population may be said to have been ethnically far more homogeneous than Chaudenson’s model would allow. Yet despite this homogeneity, the African languages spoken by slaves did not leave substantial, or at least clearly discernible, imprints on the grammatical structure of Louisiana Creole. With regard to the Creole language’s specific place, or places, of origin within Louisiana, the most plausible scenario is that the language first arose along the stretches of the Mississippi where large concentrations of slaves were to be found and subsequently spread to more peripheral areas such as Bayou Teche, where it has been influenced by prolonged contact with Cajun. The demographic and linguistic evidence does not support the hypothesis that the Creole of Bayou Teche had a separate genesis with substantial input from Haitian Creole. Today, Louisiana Creole continues to be spoken in several isolated zones and smaller pockets, the largest one being Bayou Teche, followed (roughly in order of importance) by the German Coast (including the town of Vacherie), Pointe Coupee Parish, a number of small communities in St. Tammany Parish, and the town of Kraemer in Lafourche Parish. Other pockets where Creole was previously attested but has now died out include Natchitoches, Bay St. Louis

(Mississippi), and Mon Louis Island (Alabama). While the Creole of Pointe Coupee and St. Tammany Parishes retains a number of salient features also found in the language of nineteenth-century texts, in the Teche and German Coast areas prolonged contact between speakers of Creole and speakers of other varieties of French, especially Cajun, has produced less basilectal forms of Creole. In all areas Creole is rapidly being displaced by English, and it is doubtful that many speakers will remain twenty years from now. Nevertheless, even as the number of Creole speakers declines, the language has been taking on growing importance for many francophone African Americans and Creoles of color as a symbol of their distinct identity. For this reason, it is likely that Creole will continue to play a role on the Louisiana cultural scene long after it has ceased to function as a viable means of communication.

Chapter 3 Pointe Coupee Parish 3.1 The Setting POINTE COUPEE PARISH is situated near the northeastern corner of Louisiana’s francophone triangle (see maps preceding Introduction). It is bounded to the east by the irregular course of the Mississippi, to the west by the Atchafalaya River, and to the north by the Lower Old River; only its southern border, the longest portion of which lies a few miles south of Highway 190 running between Baton Rouge and Opelousas, is not a waterway but an artificial line drawn on land. By virtue of its history, language, and culture, as well as its location, Pointe Coupee belongs to the group of twenty-odd south Louisiana parishes that are set off from the rest of the state by the continuing influence of their French heritage.1 The name Pointe Coupée, ‘Cut Off Point,’ was given to a spot where the Mississippi rose above its banks in times of high water to cut a straight path across a sharp oxbow curve that normally formed its bed. First documented in 1699 by Iberville and Bienville, to whom it presented a welcome shortcut as they ascended the Mississippi from the Gulf of Mexico on an early mission to establish a French colony, this temporary waterway eventually became the river’s preferred course. The former curve came to be separated from the river by marshy land but remained as an oxbow lake that the French called la Fausse Rivière; it is more often referred to today by its English name, False River. The land lying between False River and the Mississippi is known as the Island, or l’Île, and except for the stretches of fertile land bordering False River, it was mostly covered by swamp until drainage operations were carried out in recent years. The center of the parish population, which is 61 percent white and 38 percent black, is the capital, New Roads, a town of 4,966 residents situated on the northern edge of False River. Many of the rest of the parish’s 22,763 inhabitants are spread out along its banks, and it is

here that most of the remaining Creole speakers live (U.S. Census Bureau 1993).2 On parish maps the banks of False River are dotted with "towns" such as Ventress, Dupont, Jarreau, Rougon, Chenal, Lakeland, Oscar, and Mix, most of them corresponding to former plantations that bore the same names. Today they do not have large population clusters but in most cases retain their toponymic identity because they have, or once had, a post office. Besides New Roads, other towns of some size include Morganza, Innis, Livonia, and Fordoche, but they are home to few speakers of Creole. Most of the land that lies between the Mississippi and the Atchafalaya is low and wet and therefore only sparsely populated. The economy of the parish is primarily agricultural, the principal crops being sugar cane, cotton, and, more recently, soybeans. Cotton production had ceased entirely after World War II, but in recent years it has made a notable comeback. In 1991 a modern cotton gin was opened in Lettsworth, in the northern part of the parish, and in 1994 cotton was planted on some 13,000 acres, yielding a net production of $8.5 million (Pointe Coupee Banner 1995). Sugar cane has continued to be cultivated in large quantities since its introduction to the parish in the late eighteenth century, and the Alma sugar mill, located near the town of Lakeland on the southern arm of False River, is still in operation. Sugar cane has become such an attractive crop in Pointe Coupee that between 1984 and 1994 the number of farmers cultivating it nearly tripled, from 12 to 35, and the acreage devoted to the crop grew sixfold, from 3,000 to 18,000 (Pointe Coupee farmers experience excellent year 1995). Other important agricultural products include corn, livestock, pecans, and crawfish. Like much of Louisiana, Pointe Coupee profited from the boom in oil drilling of the 1970s and early 1980s. There are well-known stories of people who became wealthy overnight, only to see their fortunes disappear when the oil wells became unprofitable just a few years later. Although oil companies have recently shown a renewed interest in drilling in Pointe Coupee, today the False River area, which is especially popular as a resort for residents of nearby Baton

Rouge, is turning increasingly to tourism as a means of reviving its lagging economy. Billboards advertising the region’s tranquil beauty have sprung up on nearby highways, and several bed and breakfasts have been established in and around New Roads in the last few years. A number of old buildings on False River and in New Roads have been converted to antique stores catering to tourists. If tentative plans are carried out to build a bridge across the Mississippi at a point just above New Roads to replace the ferry to St. Francisville (located in neighboring West Feliciana Parish), there is little doubt that tourism will grow considerably. The same qualities that attract tourists to Pointe Coupee have also brought in new residents in recent years. Land values and construction activity along False River have increased dramatically in the last decade as people from Baton Rouge and elsewhere have moved in to build permanent homes or weekend "camps" on its banks. These newcomers, very few of whom are francophones, serve to reinforce the growing anglophone majority and further dilute the shrinking Creole-speaking population of the area.

3.2 Exploration and Early Settlement While it is likely that Canadian coureurs de bois (also known as voyageurs) had been frequenting the region since the earliest years of the eighteenth century and possibly even before (De Ville 1995, 18), the first recorded European settlement in the vicinity of Pointe Coupee appears in 1721 when 15 men, 5 women, and 2 children, all from Hainaut in present-day Belgium, lived, along with 19 African slaves, on the St. Reyne concession on the east bank of the Mississippi in what is today West Feliciana Parish (Costello 1999, 20). In 1722 there is mention of two other concessions on the east bank opposite Pointe Coupee. The first, belonging to de Mesieres and des Marches, was situated "half aux Ouachitas and half on the Mississippi, from the white cliffs of la Pointe Coupée to the isle

d’yberville, which is two leagues below" (my translation). It was thought to be home to as many as 120 men, women, and children, but it is not clear how many of these were located at the Pointe Coupee portion of the concesssion, and no reference is made to the race or legal status of the inhabitants (Beer 1911, 17). The other concession, that of Ceard, which also began at "the white cliffs of la Pointe Coupée" and stretched upriver along the Mississippi for four leagues, was estimated to have 100 whites, 46 blacks, and 2 Indian slaves (Beer 1911, 18). The first mention of settlement in an area that probably lay within the boundaries of what is today Pointe Coupee Parish appears in a 1726 census listing four families living at a place that is identified as Pointe Coupee. The population totals 21 persons, including 10 adult men (4 of whom are indentured servants), 3 adult women, and 8 children. No blacks or Indians are listed (Maduell 1972, 52). Although the exact date of its founding is uncertain, we know that a formal military post was established at Pointe Coupee some time between 1729 and 1732 (De Ville 1995, 18).3 Slaves are first documented in Pointe Coupee proper in 1731. At this time the population of 36 included 17 European adults and their 4 children, 13 adult black slaves, and 2 black children. On the east bank opposite Pointe Coupee were another 53 European adults with 22 children, 48 adult black slaves, 13 black children, and 3 Indian slaves (Maduell 1972, 118–19).4 Some of these residents were doubtless refugees from Natchez, Fort Rosalie, Ouachita, and Yazoo who feared for their safety after the massacre at Fort Rosalie by the Natchez Indians in 1729 (De Ville 1995, 18–19). In addition, 52 French persons (17 of whom were children) also lived in a village among the Tunica Indians situated five leagues above the Pointe Coupee post (Hall 1992a, 243). By 1745 the population of Pointe Coupee had reached 689, including military personnel, and was made up of 260 whites (of whom 117 were children), 391 black slaves (of whom 153 were children), 15 "mulatto" slaves, 20 Indian slaves, and 3 free Indians (Barron 1978, 34). Although no free people of color are listed, it is likely that some were already present at this time.5 Only thirteen of the sixty-one households enumerated did not possess slaves, but as was typical

of the small farm economy, most of those who did had no more than a few. Nevertheless, the beginnings of slave-holding patterns more characteristic of a plantation economy were already discernible in Pointe Coupee by 1745. For if most slaveholders owned a handful of slaves or even just one or two, the fact that 209 of 426 slaves in the district, or 49 percent, were distributed among the eight habitants who owned twenty or more slaves shows an early tendency toward concentration (the largest number of slaves to be found on one concession was 39, including 1 Indian; the next largest holding had 37, including 2 children). As described in 1.4.2, a significant re-Africanization of Louisiana’s slave population took place during the Spanish period as masses of new slaves were imported to satisfy the demand for labor, which grew along with the development of a plantation economy. The growth in the African population is evident in Pointe Coupee, where Hall counted a total of 2,894 slaves during the Spanish period, of whom 1,085 (37.5 percent) were Africans and 1,264 (44.0 percent) were local Creoles (Hall 2000b).6 The African contingent is even more significant when the count is limited to those over 14 years of age, more than 60 percent of whom were Africans between the years 1771 and 1802 (Hall 1992a, 286, 403, Appendix C, Table 1). Whereas during the French period slaves of Senegambian origin had clearly predominated, now slaves from other parts of Africa are present in large numbers, as well, with slightly more coming from the Bight of Benin than from Senegambia. The breakdown of African slaves by origin, as determined from Spanish-period documents, is given in Table 7. The major ethnic designations represented within the Senegambian region include Manding (74), Bambara (63), Wolof (62), Canga (32), and Pulaar (24); within the Bight of Benin, Mina (80), Yoruba (60), Chamba (52), Fon (44), and Ado (27); within the Bight of Biafra, Ibo (61) and Calabar (37); and within Central Africa, Congo (180) and Angola (18). Table 7: Origins of African-Born Slaves in Pointe Coupee During the Spanish Period

There is little evidence of the presence of slaves from the Caribbean in Pointe Coupee during these years, despite the fact that their importation into Louisiana had been legalized in 1777. Only 30 slaves inventoried in the documents examined by Hall are identified as having come from the Caribbean (Hall 2000b). While it is likely that some slaves of French Caribbean origin went undocumented (see 1.4.2), Hall’s evidence suggests that their numbers were small. It is thus unlikely that, at this stage, French Creole varieties from the Caribbean had any significant effect on linguistic developments in Pointe Coupee. Much more important in this regard were the English-speaking slaves whom Dr. Benjamin Farar brought with him when he moved to the Chenal area of False River from South Carolina. In 1783 he was the largest slaveholder in Pointe Coupee with 153 slaves, 72 of whom were adult Creoles of South Carolina or Virginia. Hall notes that the older slave children on the estate were also identified as Creoles of South Carolina, though she does not specify how many of these there were (1992a, 283). The speakers of English on this estate, who made up half of the slaves (more than half when children are included), must have played an important role in the spread of English among blacks in Pointe Coupee.7 This process may have occurred through regular interaction between Farar’s slaves and those of other estates, but the influence of the anglophone slaves

was surely more enduring when they were sold to other planters and thus permanently transplanted in the midst of a new group of Creole speakers. An especially significant transfer of this type occurred in 1800 when Farar’s daughter sold her inheritance, including 106 slaves, to Julien Poydras (Hall 1992a, 283–84). Thus at a time when Louisiana Creole had just barely come into being as a language, indeed, may still have been in its formative stages, it already faced competition from English in Pointe Coupee. In light of this fact, it is all the more remarkable that after more than two centuries of first gradual, then rapid Americanization, English has still not supplanted Creole entirely.

The Colonists The early black population of Pointe Coupee, then, spoke a variety of African languages and, in lesser numbers, approximate versions of French. In the colonial setting they were exposed in differing degrees to the language of the dominant population, about whom we are somewhat better informed. We know, for instance, that the overwhelming majority spoke French dialects. In many cases it is possible to trace these immigrants to specific towns or regions in Europe or the colonies. As noted above, all of the first recorded settlers who arrived on the St. Reyne concession in 1720 were from Hainaut.8 A partial listing of eighteenth-century marriage contracts in Pointe Coupee Parish (De Ville 1962) and a list of early French settlers (Costello n.d. a) reveal that its population came from many different regions of France, including the Paris region, the West and Southwest (Nantes, Île de Ré, La Rochelle, Bordeaux, Lourdes), Picardy, Lorraine, the city of Lyon, Savoie, Dauphiné, Provence, and Languedoc; various parts of Canada (Quebec, Montreal, Detroit);9 Switzerland and Germany; other parts of the Louisiana colony (Illinois, Arkansas, Natchitoches, Natchez, the German Coast, New Orleans); and, beginning in 1772, the British colonies of North Carolina, Massachusetts, and Virginia. Mention is also made of a man from London, England. Clearly, the French that the slaves were

exposed to in Pointe Coupee was heterogeneous. The presence of English was negligible in these early years, but that language would grow rapidly in importance and become increasingly widespread, first among the slave population (with the arrival of Farar’s slaves from South Carolina and Virginia), then among the free population. As noted in 1.4.1, an event that had a profound effect on the linguistic situation of Louisiana as a whole, but which seems to have been of little consequence in colonial Pointe Coupee, was the arrival of 2,600 to 3,000 Acadian exiles in several waves after 1755, the year they were expelled from Nova Scotia by the British. Unlike other Creole-speaking regions of Louisiana, and in particular St. Martin Parish, Pointe Coupee does not seem to have been a settlement site for the original Acadian exiles. Most Acadians who arrived after the first settlements of 1765–1766 on the Acadian Coasts and in the Opelousas and Attakapas districts further west preferred to join their compatriots in these areas and showed no interest in settling elsewhere. When the Spanish governor Ulloa attempted to settle newly arrived Acadians in the northern outpost of San Luis de Natchez, a considerable distance upriver from the Acadian Coasts, they resisted, and those he forced to go there attempted to relocate to the earlier Acadian settlement of Cabannocé downriver, on what is known as the First Acadian Coast, to be with family and friends. Determined to prevent this, Ulloa gave orders in 1768 prohibiting the military commandants at the posts of Attakapas, Opelousas, Allemands, Cabannocé, and Pointe Coupee from allowing Acadians to settle or seek refuge there. Pointe Coupee was apparently included because it served as "a vital stopover for a large-scale migration to Cabannocé." Soon afterward, "an ordinance ‘conforming perfectly to the import’" of Ulloa’s orders was promulgated by Duplessis, the commandant at Pointe Coupee (Brasseaux 1987, 86). It would appear that the ordinance was obeyed, for the partial listing of marriage contracts for the parish through 1803 (De Ville 1962) does not include anyone whose origin is identified as Acadian.10 While some Louisianans of Acadian origin did relocate to Pointe Coupee later in the nineteenth century, they made up only a tiny

fraction of the population and were more likely to have been assimilated into the existing culture than to have exercised cultural or linguistic influence on the natives of the region. In the 1870 census tables for Pointe Coupee, Brasseaux identified just 237 Acadians, accounting for a mere 1.8 percent of the parish population. Commenting on their fate as a cohesive group, he notes that "[t]he very small numbers of Acadians who had moved to parishes on the periphery of the original Acadian settlement areas were particularly vulnerable to rapid assimilation into the dominant Anglo- and Creolebased cultures of their new domiciles" (1992, 107). Given such an insignificant Acadian presence in Pointe Coupee, it is difficult to know whether the authors of historical accounts of the area who occasionally mention Acadians11 are referring to persons of genuine Acadian background or whether they were misled by the term cadien , which throughout South Louisiana came to be extended to poor, French-speaking whites in general, whether or not they were of Acadian background.12 Costello believes the latter to be true, noting that the term cadiens is "a Pointe Coupee Creole term for poor, usually landless inhabitants and, strictly speaking, a local, social designation, and not an indicator of Acadian ancestry" (1999, 37). To show how far back this usage of the term goes, he cites a revealing dispute over the matter among two rival Pointe Coupee newspapers in 1884: "In its April 12, 1884 issue, the Pointe Coupee Banner blasted its rival Pointe Coupee Democrat who in its (the Democrat’s) ‘very first article in its first column on its first page,’ misunderstood the Banner’s use of ‘Cadien as a social term, the Democrat taking it to mean that Creole and Acadian were synonymous as ethnic qualifiers and that Pointe Coupee was the ‘oldest Acadien parish of the state’" (1999, 48–49 n. 20). Thus in the latter part of the eighteenth century, while some areas of Louisiana were seeing their population jump suddenly because of an influx of Acadians, Pointe Coupee was receiving a steady, but smaller, stream of settlers of European extraction who came primarily from France, from French-speaking Canada (outside Nova Scotia), from other parts of Louisiana, and in lesser numbers from the American colonies. This more measured influx of francophones

to Pointe Coupee may help to explain why other varieties of French eventually gave way to Creole in this parish, while in other Creolespeaking regions of Louisiana the language continues to coexist with Cajun French. As Neumann (1985a, 21) suggests, it may also account for the more basilectal character of the Creole in Pointe Coupee as compared to that of Breaux Bridge, which has taken on more features of Cajun.13

3.3 Development of a Plantation Economy and Growth of the Slave Population Despite the continued immigration of Europeans and other whites, it was by far the slaves who accounted for most of Pointe Coupee’s population growth in this period. The rapid increase in their numbers was brought on by the transition from the economy of the habitation to that of the plantation, in which farming units tended to be larger and more specialized and more slaves were required. As seen in 2.2, according to Chaudenson’s (1989, 1992) model of creolization, this is a crucial stage in the development of creole languages because of the dramatic sociolinguistic changes that accompany it: Whereas on the smaller farms most slaves had regular, direct contact with the French spoken by their masters, on the plantations this direct access was restricted to the overseers and house slaves.14 For the masses of field hands imported from Africa, the target language was the approximate French of the overseers and Creole slaves, since this was the only language of cross-linguistic communication to which many of them had regular exposure (Chaudenson 1989, 26–27).15 As in other parts of the colony bordering the Mississippi, the plantation economy developed in Pointe Coupee as tobacco and indigo, which had proven to be unprofitable, were replaced by cotton and sugar cane.16 Just at the time when Louisiana’s planters were

taking an interest in these crops, the advent of two technological innovations ensured that they would become the mainstays of the colony’s economy. The first, in 1793, was Eli Whitney’s invention of the cotton gin, which automated the separation of the lint from the seed, thus making it feasible to produce the crop on a massive scale. This machine was introduced to Pointe Coupee in 1802 by an American named Mix, who set up a mill along False River.17 The second development was Etienne de Boré’s and Antoine Morin’s discovery in 1795 of a process for making sugar from Louisiana’s cane, which, due to the shorter growing season, was not as rich in sugar content as the cane of the tropical colonies (Conrad and Lucas 1995). It was five years later, in 1800, that sugar cane production began in Pointe Coupee (Curet 1969, 4). The massive importation of slaves required by the plantation system led to a considerable disproportion in the number of blacks and whites in Pointe Coupee and in the other riparian areas undergoing a similar economic transformation. As shown in Tables 2 and 8, the Pointe Coupee Post counted 1,492 slaves and 512 free persons in 1788. This ratio of nearly three slaves (2.90) to each free person was exceeded only by those of Chapitoulas and Bas du Fleuve, which counted 4.08 and 3.73 slaves, respectively, to each free person. New Orleans, in contrast, was home to 2,131 slaves and 3,190 free persons, or a ratio of 0.67. The white residents of Pointe Coupee, all too aware of the recent events sweeping Saint-Domingue, feared that such disproportions in the population would lead to a similar rebellion in their own colony. Their fears soon proved justified. In 1791 several slaves were accused of plotting insurrection but were not convicted (McGowan 1976, 318; Ricard 1992, 126–27). Four years later, however, a wellplanned conspiracy involving a large number of slaves, most of them from the plantation of Julien Poydras, was uncovered before it could be carried out, and its leaders were tried and executed.18 A few years after these events, C. C. Robin, upon visiting Pointe Coupee, had this to say about the threat posed to the white community by the blacks who outnumbered them:

When considering at Pointe Coupee these plantations of more than one hundred blacks, several of which have no more than one or two whites with their wives and children, one cannot see, without a kind of fright, the disproportion of the latter in an isolated place, where the inhabitants are not, as in the cities, grouped together in such a way as to be able to come to one another’s aid at any moment. Dispersed among their plantations, they could not pacify the uprising of a single slave quarter; they would have their throats slit one after the other, without being able to warn each other of the uprising spreading with ease from plantation to plantation. (Robin 1807, 2:244–45, my translation) Robin’s reference to the existence in Pointe Coupee of farms with over 100 slaves indicates how far this part of the colony had evolved toward a plantation system since 1745, when the largest farm counted 38 slaves. The trend toward a majority of slaves in the population and the tendency to concentrate them on large plantations, where their numerical superiority was even more pronounced than in the general population, continued well into the nineteenth century in Pointe Coupee. In 1810, it was one of only two areas of the former colony, now part of the United States, in which slaves made up over 70 percent of the population (the other area comprised New Orleans and adjacent St. Charles Parish, which included Chapitoulas). These proportions remained largely the same for the next century: Census data show that blacks consistently made up between 70 and 78 percent of the population of Pointe Coupee Parish from 1810 until 1900, when their majority began to lessen steadily, while in Louisiana as a whole during the same period blacks never constituted more than 58 percent of the population.19 Table 8 summarizes the population figures for Louisiana and Pointe Coupee through 1920. ("Blacks" here includes both slaves and free blacks.) The documentary evidence indicates that slaves from the Caribbean played a negligible role in the increase of the slave population during the Spanish and early American periods. Hall’s Louisiana Slave Database counts just 30 slaves of Caribbean origin in Pointe Coupee

during the Spanish period and just 32 during the early American period (through 1820), demonstrating that very few, if any, of the more than 3,000 slaves from Saint-Domingue who arrived in Louisiana in 1809–1810 were brought to Pointe Coupee (see 2.4 and 3.2).20 Of these 62 slaves of Caribbean origin, only 20 are clearly identified as having come from a region where a Frenchbased creole was spoken: 15 from Saint-Domingue, 4 from Martinique, and 1 from Guadeloupe. It thus seems unlikely that the linguistic situation in Pointe Coupee could have been influenced in any significant way by the presence of creole varieties from the Caribbean. What the demographic record also makes clear is that conditions were more propitious in Pointe Coupee than in most parts of Louisiana for the continued maintenance and development of an indigenous creole language, which, as noted in 2.2, was firmly implanted there by the late eighteenth century:21 That slaves formed a significant majority, particularly on the large plantations, meant that their access to French was even more limited than it had been in the earlier years of the colony and increased the likelihood that they would be forced to rely on Creole for communication.

3.4 Americanization Along with the movement toward a plantation economy, the nineteenth century brought with it a second development that had profound effects on all aspects of Louisiana society, including language: a massive influx of Americans. While Americans had been present in Louisiana in the eighteenth century, their numbers increased dramatically after the United States purchased the colony from France in 1803.22 So vast was the cultural gap between these new immigrants and the older elements of French colonial society that it was some time before the latter began to consider themselves Americans. To this day the francophones of Louisiana often refer to their non-French-speaking compatriots as Américains (usually pronounced [ ]).

Table 8: Population by Race in Louisiana and in Pointe Coupee, 1788–1920

At first, Americans arrived in moderate numbers. An 1807 census shows ten Anglo-Saxon households out of sixty-seven, most of which were "of modest circumstances" (Costello 1999, 59). Moreover, during these early years the American presence tended to be offset by the continued arrival of new French speakers from Europe (including France, Alsace-Lorraine, and Nice), the

Caribbean, Canada, and other parts of francophone Louisiana (Costello 1999, 60). But as would be the case throughout Louisiana, American planters eventually came to hold a majority of Pointe Coupee’s large plantations. By 1860 Americans, defined as "natives of the rest of the United States resident in Louisiana and persons born in Louisiana of Anglo-American heritage" (Menn 1964, 83), held forty-eight of the sixty-three plantations in Pointe Coupee with 50 slaves or more, including the only two possessing more than 300 slaves (Costello 1999, 71). The largest French slaveholder, Arthur Denis, owned 159 slaves, but all other plantations of more than 150 slaves were in the hands of Americans (Costello 1999, 71; Menn 1964, 90).23 While most of the American immigrants to Pointe Coupee settled in the northern part of the parish, where the French population was less firmly entrenched (Pellegrin 1949, 28; Costello 1999, 60), a significant number set up large plantations along False River, as had Benjamin Farar in the early 1780s. One such American was a planter by the name of Ventress from Mississippi, whose plantation on the Island employed 112 slaves in 1860, many of whom he had brought with him from his home state and who may have spoken English. His case was not exceptional; the Englishspeaking slaves who accompanied the Americans to their new home continued to play a pivotal role in spreading English among the rest of the slave population. According to one life-long resident of the Island, the arrival of large numbers of English-speaking slaves during the nineteenth century had the result that blacks on the Island learned English well before most of their white neighbors who were small farmers (Charles David, personal communication, 1990), and this maybe one reason why the Creole language is better preserved among the white population than among African Americans and Creoles of color in Pointe Coupee today.24 (See also 1.3). Another source of English-speaking slaves was the increased slave trade with the rest of the United States, in particular the eastern seaboard, which was made necessary by Congress’s prohibition of the international commerce in slaves in 1804 (see 2.3). Despite the influx of Americans and, on a smaller scale, Europeans, French and Creole were probably the most widely spoken languages

in Pointe Coupee throughout the nineteenth century. The vitality of French in the mid-1800s is suggested by the existence of three parish newspapers published in both English and French. The same instrument may also be used, however, to measure the rapid decline of the language: By 1872 all three of the newspapers had ceased publication, and by 1880 five new, English-only newspapers had appeared (though only one survived for more than a few years).25 The disappearance of the French newspapers is a clear sign that the language had lost prestige in the parish. It also suggests that fewer people were able to read French, indicating that it was no longer viewed as the primary language of education by those members of society wealthy enough to afford such a luxury.26 There is little question, however, that most of the small farmers and former slaves, who were unable to get an education and who formed a majority of the population, continued to speak French-related varieties. There is even evidence that something resembling Standard French was spoken well into the twentieth century. Costello (1999, 91) tells the story of a Chenal native whose father "insisted that their family use only ‘Parisian’ French in their home" such that "she and her children were at a loss to understand the Creole dialect spoken by most of the neighboring children." The maintenance of these languages continued thanks in large part to the social and economic structure of the parish, which mirrored that of south Louisiana as a whole. As Costello (1999, 83) notes, "each plantation or enclave of small farms existed as its own little universe," where most goods and services could be obtained without leaving the immediate vicinity. Most residents moved within tightly knit social networks so closely centered on the family that marriages between cousins were commonplace: "Oftentimes, and particularly among the French residents, one’s entire social sphere was limited to his or her extended family group. Because of geographical and social distances among the various Creole families of the parish, intra-family marriages were the rule more than the exception. Marriage between second or first cousins was common, and numerous cases exist of unions between double-first cousins. By the mid-1800s and continuing for more than a century, rare were the

unions where Creole brides and grooms were not at least third cousins" (Costello 1999, 83). The inward-looking nature of Pointe Coupee society was the best defense that the French and Creole languages had against the growing pressure from English. The linguistic situation remained much the same during the first half of the twentieth century, with English gradually gaining ground but French and Creole still the primary languages of a substantial portion, if not the majority, of the population. During this time, in fact, the parish’s francophone character was actually reinforced somewhat by a migration of French speakers from neighboring Avoyelles Parish. Most of these newcomers settled in the northern section of Pointe Coupee Parish, however, and thus had little effect on the linguistic situation in New Roads and the False River area, where Creole was most widely spoken (Pellegrin 1949, 154). A revealing window onto language use in Pointe Coupee in the midtwentieth century is afforded by this account written in 1948 by a "temporary resident" of the parish: This morning … I went across the street and spent about twenty minutes in the reception room of the local hospital. Seated to one side of the room was an elderly woman, conversing in Italian with an old gentleman. Next to her sat her daughter-in-law, who was talking to a middle-aged woman in the French that I used to hear in Quebec. Both younger women had come to take their children to the doctor. The little girls, aged about four, were playing together and chatting in English. So much for three generations of one family. In the street, just outside of the window near which I sat, two men were talking about fishing in False River. One was a white man, the other an old gray-haired Negro. The patois Creole which they were speaking was that which I had heard and had myself spoken in the market places of Haiti. (Letter from Miss Alice M. Dugas to Roland J. Pellegrin, May 5, 1948, quoted in Pellegrin 1949, 154) This testimony highlights the multilingual nature of 1940s New Roads, where in a single location one could hear the Italian of recent immigrants, a French dialect resembling Quebecois (at least to the

ears of the listener), English spoken by the younger generation, and Creole spoken by both blacks and whites.

3.5 Creole Among Whites Although most people associate the Creole language in Louisiana with people of color, as the passage quoted above suggests, Louisiana is in fact one of several creole-speaking regions in the world where the local creole is also the first language of a portion of the white population.27 In contrast to some regions of Louisiana where many white Creole speakers also speak Cajun or even Plantation Society French (this is the case, for example, in the Bayou Teche region and in the towns of Vacherie and Kraemer), in Pointe Coupee the weak Acadian presence ensured that Cajun French never became firmly implanted; Plantation Society French, moreover, has virtually disappeared, leaving Louisiana Creole as the only French-related variety still in widespread use. As seen in 2.1, there is documentary evidence of whites speaking Creole in Pointe Coupee as early as 1791. Just how and why they came to adopt the language is the subject of our present inquiry. One hypothesis is that early francophone colonists actually participated directly in the restructuring of their language that led to the development of Louisiana Creole. Writing in terms that betray chauvinism of class as well as race, Harrison (1882, 289) in essence makes such a claim when he ascribes similar roles to blacks and petits blancs in the creation of the Creole language: "Illiterate white folk and Africans of the purest blood, catching by ear the more or less indistinct utterances of the landed and commercial aristocracy around them, have reproduced in their own way, otographically, so to speak the message delivered to their far from fastidious sensorium, producing a dialect resembling French in a fashion that suggests the relation between the Æthiopica of Uncle Remus and current English." In a later passage, he specifically makes reference to the role that poor whites played in syllabic agglutination, which is more widespread in Louisiana Creole than in most of its French-lexifier

counterparts:28 "The petit blanc, in certain circumstances, hears the article associated with the noun; it strikes him as a sort of inseparable prefix to which he clings on most occasions, even when the word is otherwise modified. Thus, larue (la rue), ain (une) larue; mo labouche (ma bouche)" (291). Yet this description of how Louisiana Creole arose is rendered suspect by Harrison’s own observation that the poor whites are bilingual in Creole and French: "All the petits blancs or ‘poor white trash’ of the urban and plantation population speak the same patois simultaneously with the French" (1882, 287). If many or most of the petits blancs did indeed speak French—and there is every reason to believe that Harrison is right on this score—then his suggestion that they perceived indistinctly or misinterpreted the French of the "landed and commercial aristocracy around them" is difficult to accept, even if the kinds of French the two groups spoke differed significantly. To take the point a bit further, if, as I have joined others in claiming, linguistic creolization resulted from second language acquisition that took place under the particular sociolinguistic conditions typical of colonial plantation societies, then it is highly unlikely that poor, French-speaking whites would have creolized French in the same way as the African slaves for whom it was a second language.29 This is all the truer given that, as noted in 1.3, it was mainly the French of the small farmers, the indentured servants, and the overseers—and certainly not the French of Harrison’s "landed and commercial aristocracy"—that served as the target language for the Africans. This being the case, there would have been no obvious motivation for the petits blancs to restructure their own language, except to the extent that they may have practiced "foreigner talk," that is, the intentional modification of their language in ways that they imagined would render it more comprehensible to the Africans. (On this subject, see the quote from Robin 1807, 3:185, given in 2.1.) It is far more likely that the Africans were the true creolizers of French in the way described in 2.2 and that francophones of European background simply learned the Creole language from

them and their Creole-speaking descendants. This view is shared by Neumann (1984, 63–64), who, in examining the situation in St. Martin Parish where Creole is also spoken by whites as well as blacks, offers three possible reasons whites there might have adopted the language. The first is that the conditions of black slaves and poor whites had much in common and the two groups came into frequent contact with each other. Poor whites often joined the slaves as hired hands on the plantations during the harvest, and when sharecropper farming replaced slavery as the dominant system of agricultural labor after the Civil War, the linguistic interaction between the two groups must have been even greater. Second, we know that some members of the planter class learned Creole from their black nurses; since these planters would most likely not have known Cajun French, it may have been easier for them to speak Creole to their white farm hands, leading to "a gradual assimilation of Cajun to Creole" (my translation).30 Finally, Neumann proposes that nonFrench-speaking immigrants (e.g., from Germany and Ireland) may have adopted Creole because it was the only variety of French available to them. Applied to the context of Pointe Coupee, Neumann’s first hypothesis is the most satisfactory to explain why many of its white residents adopted Creole. As elsewhere in Louisiana, it was common for whites to work as day laborers on plantations alongside blacks. This became increasingly common after the Civil War, when progressive subdivisions of land among heirs resulted in tracts too small for profitable cultivation. As a result, many members of land-owning families were forced to become sharecroppers or day laborers (Costello 1999, 138–39). Costello notes that white families, some of whom came from the Island, worked on River Bend, North Lake, and Austerlitz plantations on the opposite side of False River (1999, 142). Contact between blacks and whites was particularly frequent on the Island, where poor whites were numerous and not much better off materially than the former slaves. Today, it is still common for older people who grew up on the Island to reminisce about blacks and whites living and working side by side and even attending social events together, something that rarely occurs today.

While Neumann focuses on contact that took place among adults during working hours on the plantation, a type of linguistic exchange that is likely to have held greater significance for linguistic developments occurred when black and white children who were neighbors played together. Several white speakers of Creole told me that this was how they had learned the language, much to the displeasure of their parents, who spoke le bon français at home and insisted that their children do the same. It is thus my view that children were the primary, though certainly not the only, vehicle for the spread of Creole among the white population in Pointe Coupee. With regard to the second hypothesis, it is indeed likely that some upper-class residents of Pointe Coupee did grow up speaking Creole learned from their nurses. What is less certain is that they played any significant role in the adoption of the language by other whites. To answer this question we would have to know what variety of French was spoken by the poor whites these planters came into contact with and whether it was closer to the Plantation Society French of the planters or to Louisiana Creole. While the settlement records of the area indicate that the language of the Acadians was not present, this does not rule out the possibility that some form of Cajun French was spoken in Pointe Coupee before being displaced by Creole—if Cajun is understood to refer, not specifically to the Acadian dialect or its direct descendant, but to a range of speech varieties that developed as a result of koinéization when numerous French dialects came into contact in Louisiana.31 Certainly the conditions for koinéization existed in Pointe Coupee, given the diverse origins of its early French-speaking population, and it is conceivable that something not unlike varieties of Cajun that are still spoken today in other parts of Louisiana was also spoken in Pointe Coupee during the nineteenth century, though we have no record of this. It is impossible to say, however, whether the planters who spoke Creole as well as Plantation Society French found it easier—or, because of the difference in social status, more appropriate—to communicate with lower-class whites in Creole. A group more likely to have done this was the American planters who did not speak Plantation Society French but who, like their French counterparts,

had learned Creole from their nurses. Lack of information about the frequency with which American planters grew up speaking Creole makes it difficult to explore this hypothesis further, however, and for now it must remain speculative. Neumann’s third hypothesis, that non-French-speaking immigrants came to speak Creole because it was the only variety of French to which they had access, may also have applied in Pointe Coupee, since a large number of immigrants, particularly Italians, settled in the parish and worked on area plantations until they earned enough money to set up farms or businesses of their own. I have been told of at least two second-generation Italian immigrants to Pointe Coupee who learned both Creole and English but used the former as their primary language (Brian Costello, personal communication). This immigration did not occur until the late nineteenth century, however, which suggests that these immigrants simply contributed to a trend that was occurring on a larger scale among whites of French background and were not the major instrument in spreading Creole among the white population.32 To summarize, the notion that the French-speaking settlers of Pointe Coupee, along with Africans, creolized their native language is incompatible with the hypothesis that creolization occurs as the result of a specific type of second language acquisition. Instead, the most plausible explanation for the presence of Creole-speaking whites is that portions of the white population at some point learned the language from blacks. Different segments of the population— children and adults, wealthy plantation owners and poor farmers, including recent immigrants—learned Creole in different contexts, but it is likely that the children of poor farmers who interacted daily with black playmates were the most important vehicle for the spread of the language beyond its original group of speakers. These children, then, grew up bilingual in Creole and French. This bilingualism may have continued for several generations, but in many families it eventually gave way to monolingualism in Creole, which in turn would eventually give way to bilingualism in Creole and English.

Characteristic Features of the Creole Spoken by Whites There does not appear to be a cleavage between "white Creole" and "black Creole" in the perception of most people in Pointe Coupee. When I have asked about possible differences, the answer given by blacks and whites alike has typically been Nouzòt tou parl mèm kichòj ‘We all speak the same thing.’ This contrasts sharply with the situation in Breaux Bridge, where Neumann notes with some irony that white Creole speakers "never fail to insist on the fine nuances that distinguish their speech from that of the blacks! Among the white population one finds an acute awareness of the levels of language that exist in this speech variety" (1984, 64, my translation).33 Yet despite the feeling among blacks and whites that they speak the same language, a careful look at the utterances of each group reveals interesting differences.34 These are generally of the same type as those noted by Neumann in her description of "le créole des Blancs" in Breaux Bridge and result in the Creole of whites appearing more French-like, or mesolectal, than that of blacks (Neumann 1984). This is doubtless the result of one or more generations of bilingualism in French and Creole that characterized many white families in Pointe Coupee, described in the previous section. The differences illustrated below are those that correlate most consistentiy with race, though the frequency with which they occur is highly variable among both groups.

Phonology The phonological features that most typify the Creole of white speakers are the greater frequency of the front rounded vowels [y], [ø], [œ] (as opposed to their unrounded variants [i], [e], [ɛ]) and the

more regular realization of final and preconsonantal [r]: dubwa/dibwa ‘tree’; dufeu/dife ‘fire’; lœvel leve ‘get up’; myeu/mye ‘better’; sœ/sè ‘sister’; larjan/lajan ‘money.’ Also to be noted is the pronunciation of the series of possessive adjectives and determiners mokèn/motchèn ‘my, mine,’ tokèn/totchèn ‘your, yours,’ etc. While white speakers use the forms with the affricate [ʧ] to the exclusion of those with the velar consonant [k], blacks commonly use both forms.35

Morphosyntax The Noun Phrase Gender and number markings, typically absent from adjectives and determiners (especially possessives) in the speech of blacks, are much more frequent among whites. In the following examples, the forms that are more characteristic of the Creole of blacks appear in parentheses. La i se me se zekla anba la i se me se buch, buch dubwa, e chofe (FN) (cf. so zekla-ye, so buch-ye)36 ‘Then he would put his kindling [pl.] at the bottom and he would put his logs and heat (with that).’ Tou me katèn ave en non (MP) (cf. tou mo katèn-ye) ‘All my dolls had a name.’ Ma manman se di mon… (EN) (cf. momanman) ‘My mother would say to me.…’ ma mezon (FE) (cf. mo lamezon)37 ‘my house.’ I vini mouri kote sa manman et so popa (EN) (cf. so manman, so popa) ‘He came to die at his mother’s and father’s house.’ Mo te pa movez (EN) (cf. move, fem, and masc.) ‘I wasn’t bad [fem.].’

kan mo te èn tit-fiy (MP) (cf. ti-fiy) ‘when I was a little girl’ A second feature typical of the noun phrase in the Creole of whites is the use of special forms of certain determiners and pronouns. As in the previous set of examples, some of these bear gender and number markings not present on the forms that are more typical of the Creole of blacks. Iœrtchèn vwazinaj (EC) (cf. yetchèn/yekèn) ‘their neighborhood’ (Here the form lœrtchèn is clearly closer to French, in which leur is the equivalent 3 pl. possessive determiner) metchèn zanfan (EC) (cf. motchèn/mokèn, sg. and pl.) ‘my children.’ tou le paròl-sa-la (EC) (cf. tou paròl-sa-ye) ‘all those words.’ le ti mòrso kòm sizla (GS) (cf. sa-ye) ‘little pieces like these.’ avek èl (GE) (cf. li, masc. and fem.) ‘with her.’ Finally, white speakers make more regular use of the prepositions de/d to express a relationship between two nouns. Among black speakers it is more common for the two nouns to simply be juxtaposed, without a linking preposition: enn mezon-d-ekòl (EN) ‘a schoolhouse.’ Mo popa te konnen konte nouzòt tout kalite d kont (EN) ‘My father used to tell us all kinds of stories.’ kouvèrtu d orye (FE) ‘pillow case.’

The Verb Phrase The Creole of whites in Pointe Coupee shows a verbal system closely matching that of Breaux Bridge Creole (as described by Neumann 1985a), in which there are classes of verbs having two

stems, a long and a short one, that are in complementary distribution: The short stem is used in the habitual or universal present and in the 2 sg. imperative, and the long form is used in all other contexts, including the past without any preverbal marker: si to mèn mo ora dolo (EN) ‘if you take me near the water’ vs. en swar mo trape trwa san (EN) ‘one night I caught three hundred (turtles).’ (The verb mèn has a corresponding long form mene, and trape has a corresponding short form trap.) In Breaux Bridge this system characterizes the speech of blacks and whites alike. In Pointe Coupee, however, it is not fully established in the speech of blacks. Instead, there is a significant degree of free variation in the use of the long and the short forms (see 6.1.2 for details). This is illustrated in the following example, where the speaker uses the short form pal and the long form pale ‘speak,’ in each case to express an action in the habitual present: Dan mo vye jou, WELL, mo pal pi kreyòl. Tou les jen jan-ye, ye pale meriken (FV) ‘In my old age, well, I don’t speak Creole anymore. All the young people, they speak English.’ In the speech of whites there are traces of a more French-like verb morphology that are found with less frequency in the speech of blacks. Such forms are especially common in the case of the verb ‘to have’ and the model verbs ‘to want’ and ‘can.’ Nou u vèrgla on li (Fr. EU, past participle of AVOIR ‘have’; cf. te gen) ‘There was (lit., we had) ice on it.’ Sa-fe ye se pa u [jy] pou montre ye otan ke ye te montre twa (MP) (cf. te pa gen) ‘So they wouldn’t have to teach them as much as they had taught you.’ Tou me katèn ave en non (MP) (Fr. [J’/TU] AVAIS, [IL/ELLE/ON] AVAIT, [ILS/ELLES] AVAIENT, imperfect of AVOIR; cf. te gen) ‘All my dolls had a name.’

Cochon-la pa voule lese mon (EN) (Fr. [JE/TU] voulais, [IL/ELLE/ON] VOULAIT, [ILS/ELLES] VOULAIENT, imperfect of VOULOIR ‘to want’; cf. t ole) ‘The hog didn’t want to let me go.’ ye voule to parl (MP) (cf. t ole) ‘they wanted you to speak’ Sa veu min ye esey pale franse mè ye peu pa (FE) (Fr. [JE/TU] PEUX, [IL/ELLE/ON] PEUT, present indicative of POUVOIR ‘can, be able’; cf. pa kapab) ‘That means they try to speak French but they can’t.’ "Me," i di, "si to mèn mo ora dolo," i di "mo poura chante mjeu" (EN) (Fr. [TU] POURRAS, [IL/ELLE/ON] POURRA, future of POUVOIR ‘can, be able’; cf. sa kapab) "‘But," he said, "if you take me near the water," he said, "I’ll be able to sing better.’" Mo pa pu war byen (EN) (Fr. PU, past participle of POUVOIR ‘can, be able’; cf. te pa kapab) ‘I couldn’t see well.’ Dan tan-sa-la si to te voule èn plas pou to asi i fale to ajet to ban (EN) (cf. t ole) ‘In those days if you wanted a place to sit you had to purchase your pew.’ Mo te swatre li se apràn a lekòl (MP) (Fr. [JE/TU] SOUHAITERAIS, [IL/ELLE/ON] SOUHAITERAIT, [ILS/ELLES] SOUHAITERAIENT, conditional of SOUHAITER ‘to wish’; cf. se ole, se swate) ‘I would have liked for him to learn (Creole) in school.’ Finally, in the Creole of whites the past marker/copula sometimes takes the form ete rather than the typically Creole form te (Fr. [J’/TU] ÉTAIS, [IL/ELLE/ON] ÉTAIT, [ILS/ELLES] ÉTAIENT, imperfect of ÊTRE ‘to be’; ÉTÉ, past participle of ÊTRE), and the clause-final copula, which is typically ye, often takes the more French-like form e (Fr. [TU] ES, [IL/ELLE/ON] EST, present indicative of ÊTRE): Mo toujou ete kòm mo e la, e mo pe e jame chanje (MP) (cf. te, ye) ‘I’ve always been as I am now, and I’m never going to change.’

ou fèr la e (GE) ‘where the iron is.’ Despite its more French-like character, the speech described above is more appropriately viewed as Louisiana Creole than as a form of Cajun French. The set of personal subject pronouns is that of Creole rather than Cajun (1 sg. mo instead of variants of jeu; 2 sg. to instead of tu, ti; 3 sg. li for both masc. and fem. instead of i(l)/a(l) [though èl occasionally occurs, as noted]; 3 pl. ye instead of i(l)/eus/euzòt/sa). The verb system, though retaining more traces of French morphology than the speech of most black Creole speakers, nonetheless shows only limited use of verb inflections, relying primarily on a set of preverbal markers to express notions of tense, mood, and aspect. Finally, certain lexical items that are hallmarks of Creole but not typically found in Cajun are very common (e.g., gen ‘to have,’ kouri ‘to go,’ kapab ‘can, be able,’ ole ‘to want’ [though various reflexes of Fr. POUVOIR and VOULOIR are also used, as noted]).

3.6 The Dominance of English in the Post-War Period 3.6.1 THE MECHANIZATION OF AGRICULTURE After the the upheavals of the Civil War, Louisiana’s planters relied on wage earners and sharecropper farmers, including recent immigrants, to replace slave labor. In many respects, however, social relations remained the same as they had been on the plantations of the antebellum period. The majority of agricultural laborers were still blacks, most of whom continued to live in the former slave quarters of the plantations and to be dependent on the white planters for their livelihood. As Costello (1999, 138) puts it, "Slavery had been

abolished but many of the blacks, as well as whites, who labored on the plantations remained ‘bound’ for generations, in one sense or another, to the places on which they lived and worked." This continuity in social and economic structures contributed to a stable linguistic situation and to the maintenance of the Creole language.38 It was not until agriculture became mechanized in the twentieth century that plantation conditions changed dramatically. The example of Alma plantation, located on the southern arm of False River near the town of Lakeland, illustrates just how far-reaching these changes were. In 1932, when the plantation owned only two tractors and one sugar cane harvester, it employed 165 families. Seventeen years later, after it had purchased eighteen more tractors and four cane harvesters, each of which could perform the work of forty field hands, only 60 families were still employed on the plantation (Pellegrin 1949, 146–47; see also Costello 1999, 206– 209). This pattern was repeated on plantations throughout the parish, resulting in severe unemployment among African Americans. Their means of livelihood thus disrupted, they were forced to seek other means of employment, which often took them outside the parish. The necessity of looking for a new job, especially when this meant leaving the home community, was a strong incentive for those who were still monolingual speakers of Creole to learn English.

3.6.2 EDUCATION39 Throughout rural Louisiana, the schools have played a pivotal role in the shift from French to English. Pointe Coupee is no exception, but the importance of education in accelerating language shift has been much greater among the white than among the black population. In the white community, education has clearly been the main catalyst in the switch from Creole to English. The majority of white speakers I have interviewed claim to have spoken little or no English before entering school, and the only monolingual speaker I encountered was a ninety-year-old woman, now deceased, who had no education

(none of the African Americans or Creoles of color I interviewed were monolingual in Creole).40 Once a child was on school grounds, English typically became the exclusive language; Creole was strictly forbidden. Students were quickly made to feel ashamed of their native language, and various punishments were devised to discourage its use. French was occasionally taught at the beginning levels, but it was treated as a foreign language. It is not surprising, then, that today’s white Creole speakers in their seventies and eighties, many of whom were part of the first generation in their families to receive a public education, were also part of the last generation to learn Creole before they learned English. Convinced that proficiency in English was essential to success, most parents encouraged their children to speak this language at home, even though the elders usually continued to speak Creole among themselves. The rapid transition from monolingualism in Creole (or some other variety of French) to bilingualism in Creole and English that occurred when children began attending school is illustrated in an 1891 account of the final exercises of Poydras Academy before it closed for the summer. "The programme consisted of a tableaux, recitations, declamations and a fine drama entitled "Beauty and the?" [sic] Everything went off without a hitch or flaw.… Boys and girls who a year ago could not have spoken a word of English, to the surprise and admiration of the vast audience recited difficult selections and took part in dialogues in the language" (Poydras Academy Examinations 1891). Yet two generations later, in the 1930s, children were still arriving at school with no knowledge of English. Kan nouzdòt nou ne, pœrsòn parle pa langle.… Inave en peu ki te ramase deu-ou-trwa mo langle paskeu ye te gen de piti ki te plu vyeu keu mon ki kouri lekòl. Me motchèn fanmiy—mon mo tepafoutu parle langle, mo pa kònen langle dutou. Mon sè te leu plu vyeu deu la fanmiy. Mon mo kouri lekòl e mo apràn langle e la me frèr e me sœr apròn avek mon kan ye ye kouri. Kan nouzòt nou kouri, kan mon mo kou lekòl, prèmye chòz fale ye fe mo apròn, se p parle langle. Avan

ye te kapab montre mon ekri, oubyen konte. (MP, born 1931 in Jarreau, on the Island) When we were born, no one spoke English.… There were a few who picked up a few words of English because there were some children who were older than I who went to school. But my family—I couldn’t speak English, I didn’t know English at all. I was the oldest in my family. I went to school and I learned English and then my brothers and my sisters learned with me when they went. When we went to school, when I went to school, the first thing they had to make me learn was to speak English. Before they could teach me to write, or to count. The schools did not play as significant a role in language shift among blacks as they did among whites, partly because English was already fairly widespread among the black community but also because severe restrictions were placed on education for blacks. The first public high school for blacks, New Roads High School, was not built until 1950. Before that time attempts at educating the descendants of slaves met with sometimes violent resistance from whites. In 1901 Reverend Pierre LaForet Albert Plantevigne (often spelled Planving) founded the Industrial and High School for blacks in the town of Oscar, on False River (Palmer 1992, 43). Two years later he was gunned down by a white resident for this transgression of the region’s unspoken code against educating the descendants of slaves.41 Such resistance on the part of whites continued for many years. Black residents born in the first decades of this century tell of receiving threats when seen holding a book on their porch. Those of the following generation enjoyed greater opportunities for attending school, but they still had to suffer vegetables and insults hurled at them or worse. Palmer (1992, 115–16) recounts the chilling story told to her by "Praying Sonny" Smith, who was severely beaten by his mother’s landlord when she ignored his warnings against sending her child to school. This time the landlord’s message had its desired effect, for Sonny Smith never returned to the classroom.

Yet as Reverend Plantevigne’s poignant example illustrates, many black Pointe Coupeeans made valiant attempts to educate their young people despite the formidable obstacles placed in their way. With little help coming from local or state government, they were forced to rely mainly on private foundations, local churches, and their own limited resources to provide schools for their children.42 Since transportation was not available, the schools had to be located within walking distance of the students’ homes. Paradoxically, this resulted in there being a greater number of schools for blacks than for whites (Palmer 1992, 410–11). By the time New Roads High School was built in 1950, there were no fewer than forty-six schools for blacks in the parish, mostly in "churches, society halls, and any other buildings the poor people could build" (Samuel P. Lorio, former superintendant of the Pointe Coupee Parish School Board, quoted in Palmer 1992, 405). Still, some students had to walk as far as five or six miles to reach the nearest school, and because of the local planters’ need for agricultural labor, the school board set the academic "year" for blacks at three to five months (Palmer 1992, 406, 183). In 1918– 1919, for example, the school year for whites was officially set to begin on September 8, while for blacks school was not to start until the following January and was to last only three months (Palmer 1992, 228). NF, a Creole speaker born in 1903, described the inequality of conditions for black and white school children when he was growing up: Ka mo mo te e vini latan pose kan mo te va lekòl, nou te pa gen pase trwa mwa lekòl. Jodi le nwa gen nèf mwa lekòl parey konm de blan. Nou te pa gen oken SCHOOL BUS, e le blan te gen en wagon ave de mile ale de piti kote lekòl, nouzòt n te pa kapab—n te pa gen sa. Te gen mache kat sen mil. Na de fwa n te pa leson ditou, se sa-ki te pli ho kè nouzo, ki te gen ede le metres-d-ekòl, dòn nouzò en leson. Na de fwa pa leson ditou. Sè te mal dan l ton, en? ‘When I was growing up a long time ago when I went to school, we had no more than three months of school. Today the blacks have nine months of school just like the whites. We didn’t have any school bus, and the whites had a wagon with two mules to haul the children

to school, we couldn’t—we didn’t have that. Had to walk four or five miles. Sometimes we didn’t (have) a lesson at all, it was those who were more advanced than us, who had to help the school teachers, give us a lesson. Sometimes no lesson at all. It was bad in those day, huh?’ Typically the schools for blacks did not go beyond the fifth grade.43 In order to provide more advanced education for their children, many black Pointe Coupeeans sent them outside the parish (Palmer 1992, 406). As was the case for those leaving the parish to find jobs, travel away from the home community to pursue education accelerated the switch from Creole to English. Yet some blacks preferred that their children not go to school, either because they were needed to help the rest of their family in the fields or out of misunderstanding or even mistrust of the schools. As two elderly natives of the Island explained, YC: Ena dan vye mounn-ye, mo pa konnen, ye te lenm pa ye piti kou lekòl. JL: THAT’S RIGHT. …Ye te pa konnen mye (…), ye te pa konn aryen pou lekòl. YC: "…Mo tifiy e mo ti-garson… mop ole ye kou lekòl" konm sa.… YC: There were some old folks, I don’t know, they didn’t like for their children to go to school. JL: That’s right.… They didn’t know any better, they didn’t know anything about school. YC: "…My daughter and my son, I don’t want them to go to school."44 When it became clear to white Pointe Coupeeans in the late sixties that they could no longer prevent integration of the public schools, they established a number of private schools for their children, only

one of which, False River Academy, still survives. Since then education has remained highly segregated in the parish, with most whites attending False River Academy and a local parochial school, Catholic High of Pointe Coupee, and most blacks, the public schools (though some also attend the parochial school). The situation changed little with the opening in 1991 of Pointe Coupee Central High School, a consolidated school in which black students make up the overwhelming majority.45 With regard to language, open access to public education for blacks has simply accelerated the shift from Creole to English that had begun even before the Civil War with the influx of English-speaking slaves (see 3.4) and was further encouraged in the early to midtwentieth century by the socioeconomic consequences of the mechanization of agriculture and the need to travel outside the parish for education beyond the elementary level. Prior to Reconstruction, the history of education among Pointe Coupee’s Creoles of color was strikingly different from that of the black population. Most Creoles of color were property owners, some of them very wealthy. On the whole, they were able to provide their children with an excellent education. A journalist writing in 1866 reported that the Creoles of color have supported their own schools, and the general standard of education among them would be creditable to any people in the South. It was their usual practice to obtain rooms in the principal houses, and employ colored teachers during the whole year, the pupils paying a regular tuition fee. For more than fifty years their schools have been kept open in this manner, and the result has been that, out of nearly two hundred colored families in that parish who were free before the war, only one family is unable to read and write, while among the white population from twenty to thirty per cent are in ignorance. (Wiley 1866, 248) After Reconstruction, conditions worsened considerably for Creoles of color. Like their white counterparts, many of them had been financially ruined by the war. But unlike the whites, Creoles suffered

the added burden of a climate of growing racial tension in which their once-privileged status was no longer recognized. Along with the former slaves and their descendants, they were largely excluded from the benefits of public education, while their diminished financial resources now made it difficult for them to provide their children with the private schooling that had once been the norm. Given the crucial role of the schools in discouraging the use of Creole, it is possible to attribute the language’s survival into the late twentieth century at least in part to the relatively low level of education in the parish, this despite the parish’s head start in establishing public schools for its white population in the early nineteenth century. Louisiana’s first three public schools opened in Pointe Coupee Parish during the first decade of the nineteenth century, and the will of local planter Julien Poydras, who died in 1824, provided funds for the establishment five years later of Poydras College, which remained open until the Civil War (Costello 1999, 88–90).46 Yet census statistics show that throughout the twentieth century Pointe Coupee’s black and white populations have both lagged behind the rest of the state in educational attainment. In 1910 the illiteracy rate for people ten years of age or older was 29 percent in Louisiana but 52 percent in Pointe Coupee (U.S. Bureau of the Census 1913). Twenty years later, with an illiteracy rate of 27 percent, Pointe Coupee had slightly surpassed the state’s 1910 rate, but by that time Louisiana’s overall figure had been reduced to a little over 13 percent (U.S. Bureau of the Census 1922). In 1950 the U.S. Census Bureau began reporting on levels of educational achievement, listing figures for the number of years of school completed by the population over twenty-five years of age. Here again, a comparison of Pointe Coupee’s figures with those of the state as a whole reveals the slower spread of education in the parish (see Table 9). The parish’s figures are made especially low by its large black population, whose access to education was, as we have seen, severely limited for many years. But when the figures are broken down by race, they show that the educational level of Pointe Coupee’s white population has also remained well below the state average.

The fact that throughout the twentieth century people in Pointe Coupee were educated in smaller numbers and at lower levels than in the state as a whole helps to explain why Creole continues to be spoken today, particularly among whites. At the same time, the opportunities and incentives that blacks had to learn English outside of school, as well as the necessity of leaving the parish to pursue a high school education before 1950, may help to explain why the loss of Creole is more advanced among this group of speakers than among whites, even though education reached the black community later. Despite its longevity, Creole in Pointe Coupee now appears to be on its way to extinction. It is difficult to estimate with accuracy the number of people in the parish who still speak it fluently, but they probably total fewer than one thousand and their numbers are diminishing rapidly.47 In addition to the fluent speakers, there are perhaps another two or three thousand who are able to understand Creole and have limited speaking skills. Many of these are men and women in their forties and fifties who grew up hearing their parents speak Creole and may even have had to use it to communicate with their grandparents but who learned English as their first language. Typically, the parents of this group were among those who preferred not to teach Creole to their children and who used the language when they wished to exclude them from conversations. There are very few Creole speakers under fifty, though a striking exception I encountered in 1990 was a fifteen-year-old girl who could understand the language and possessed basic speaking skills. Table 9: Percentage of Population 25 Years and Older Having Completed Less than 5, 5–8, 9–12, and More Than 12 Years of School, Pointe Coupee (PC) and Louisiana (LA)

3.7 Louisiana Creole in a Broader Francophone Context Given that the Creole of Pointe Coupee was traditionally a stigmatized language and is now spoken by a small and rapidly dwindling minority in a relatively isolated corner of francophone Louisiana, it is perhaps surprising that many of its speakers have a clear sense of belonging to a broader world of people who speak "French." This is evident in the variety of names they give to their language: Depending on the context, they may call it français, cadien,48 or, most commonly, créole. When pressed on the issue, all will specify that what they speak is not the French of France or the Cajun of Lafayette (often held up as le bon français) but something else again.49 Still, most have had occasion at one time or another to converse with speakers of these languages and generally claim to have communicated successfully.50 Incidents like these reinforce

the speakers’ sense that at some level, Metropolitan French, Cajun, and Creole are the same language. Many have stories to tell about times when their native language came in handy with French speakers. During World War II, many men from the area were stationed in France and Belgium, where their linguistic skills proved particularly valuable. More recently, Pointe Coupee residents have had opportunities to use Creole with growing numbers of tourists from France, Belgium, and Canada who visit the parish, as well as with CODOFIL teachers sent by the same countries. Creole speakers are also conscious of their linguistic ties to other creole languages, particularly to that of Haiti. One man I interviewed, who had lived for a number of years in Haiti, reported having had little trouble picking up Haitian Creole because of its great similarity to Louisiana Creole. Another, who had lived in New York, was able to communicate in Creole with Haitians living in the city. It is significant that in both of these examples the opportunity to use Creole with speakers of another creole language arose when the Pointe Coupee resident traveled outside the parish: In contrast to French, which is increasingly coming to the parish from the outside by way of tourists and CODOFIL teachers, neither Haitian Creole nor any other French-lexifier creole has much of a presence in Pointe Coupee.51 There are signs that this may be changing, however. In 2000 CODOFIL sent two Haitians to teach French in New Roads, and in addition to their regular jobs, they began offering classes in Haitian Creole to interested members of the community, many of whom were themselves speakers of Louisiana Creole. At a more local level, Creole speakers are naturally aware of being a part of "French" Louisiana, even if they are, in both geographical and linguistic terms, at its margins. It is common for Pointe Coupee residents to converse with speakers of Cajun whom they meet when they travel to other parts of Louisiana or who come from Cajunspeaking areas to live in Pointe Coupee. In recent years a number of Cajun speakers have immigrated to Pointe Coupee from Avoyelles

Parish to the northwest (see 3.6), and a few have come from the Cajun-speaking parishes of the southwest. These newcomers are initially struck by the differences between their language and Creole but have little trouble adapting to them. Nevertheless, the geographical and linguistic marginality of the parish in relation to the center of francophone Louisiana in the Lafayette area no doubt helps to explain why the renewed enthusiasm for French in the state, and in particular recent efforts to preserve its local varieties, has been slow to have an impact in Pointe Coupee. To be sure, the widespread popularity of virtually everything associated with the word "Cajun" has contributed to a new sense of pride among white speakers of Creole, who readily identify themselves with this group, and has removed some of the stigma that was long attached to their language. But in contrast to what has occurred in southwestern Louisiana, this ethnic pride has not translated into calls for the preservation of the local language, less still for teaching it in the schools. Francophone African Americans and Creoles of color, who are not considered Cajuns (see the Introduction), remained for many years even further removed from the French revival movement than whites.52 Since my initial contact with the area in 1990, however, Creole speakers of color have become increasingly interested in the efforts of their counterparts in the Lafayette and Opelousas areas to foster an appreciation of the specifically "Creole" contributions to Louisiana’s cultural and linguistic heritage and have begun to organize similar activities in Pointe Coupee. An early expression of this group’s growing cultural awareness was the Pointe Coupee Museum Zydeco Festival, begun in 1995 but discontinued two years later, which featured the style of music that is today the hallmark of Creole culture in Louisiana.53 More recently, with the participation of the two CODOFIL teachers from Haiti, a racially diverse group of Pointe Coupee residents have joined together to form Les Créles de Pointe Coupée, an organization that sponsors the Creole classes mentioned above as well as public events promoting the parish’s francophone heritage.

3.8 Creole and English in Pointe Coupee There is a clear functional division between the use of Creole and the use of English among bilinguals in Pointe Coupee, such that the linguistic situation in the parish may be described as diglossic.54 While English is the language of prestige used in public places and for official purposes, Creole remains something of a stigmatized language whose use is restricted almost entirely to private life. It is spoken at home and with friends but rarely in other contexts (but see the interview with MP in 7.9 for a striking exception). When someone who is not part of the Creole-speaking community is present in a group of Creole speakers, English tends to be used unless the English speaker is intentionally being excluded from the conversation.55 The reluctance to use Creole with outsiders is so great that I sometimes found it nearly impossible to persuade people to speak it with me, even though they might switch to the language without hesitation when making a comment on the side to a friend or relative who also happened to be present. The language’s strong association with the context of family and friends makes it a powerful tool for expressing or reinforcing a sense of community among its speakers. One skillful practitioner of Creole for such purposes is a Catholic priest known for injecting bits of Creole into his services, much to the delight of the congregation, who are thus reminded that he is one of them. His use of Creole also tends to amuse them, in part, no doubt, because it is incongruous to hear the language of privacy and informality in a formal, even solemn, public setting. It is precisely because of its association with informality that Creole lends itself particularly well to humor, and it is the preferred language for jokes among bilinguals, who insist that a joke is simply funnier when told in Creole.56

3.9 The Effects of Language Loss The adoption of English in place of Creole is observable both in the Pointe Coupee community as a whole and at the level of the individual: Not only is the number of Creole speakers constantly shrinking, but those who still do speak the language are nearly all bilinguals and are using it with less and less frequency. Beyond edging Creole out of an increasing number of contexts, English has also had profound effects on the way the language is spoken in its remaining domains of use. Most notably, English constantly seeps into Creole discourse through code-switching, which occurs at several levels. At the sentential level, Creole utterances are frequently sprinkled with phonologically unassimilated English words and phrases. Often this serves the necessary function of filling lexical gaps in Creole, particularly in the case of recent technological innovations (e.g., "radio," "television," "airplane"). Just as frequent, however, are instances of code-switching in which the English word used has a common Creole equivalent. This is illustrated in the following examples, taken from a relatively young, but fairly fluent, Creole speaker: Ye te konnen fe tanbou-ye ye-menm, ye te konnen pran en bari, avek en bout la po, e ye te gen chofe la po-la pou li vini STIFF. Ka li vini STIFF, THEN ye BANG li. Mo pans se de zafè ye mennen isi dan SLAVERY. (KS) They used to make the drums themselves, they used to take a barrel, with a piece of hide, and they had to heat the hide so it would become stiff. When it had become stiff, then they would bang on it. I think those are things they brought here during slavery. Here, the Creole word red could have been used in place of English ‘stiff,’ epi in place of ‘then,’ konyen, bat, or bimen in place of ‘bang,’ and èsklavay in place of ‘slavery.’ With the exception of the rare

word èsklavay, these Creole terms are very common and were certainly known to the speaker. His choice to use the English equivalents instead demonstrates that recourse to this language goes well beyond the need to compensate for lexical gaps in Creole. That this is so can also be seen in the tendency to interrupt Creole discourse with longer utterances in English. Indeed, in my experience it is rare to hear Creole spoken for more than a minute or two without at least one extended switch to English. English has also affected Creole through lexical borrowing in which the English terms are phonologically integrated into Creole (e.g., tròk ‘truck,’ lebay ‘lay by,’ Yenki ‘Yankee’), and through calques of English grammatical contructions (e.g., vini bœk ‘come back,’ garde pou ‘look for,’ galope pou plas ‘run for office,’ Mo monj on dimonch (LD) ‘I eat on Sunday’).57

Conclusion Although Pointe Coupee Parish finds itself today at the periphery of francophone Louisiana, it was for many years populated mainly by speakers of French and Louisiana Creole. Because it was one of the first areas of Louisiana to develop a plantation economy and to see the rapid growth in the black population that accompanied it, Pointe Coupee naturally has a high concentration of Creole speakers. The continued predominance of the black population until the middle of this century may also help to account for the more basilectal nature of the Creole of Pointe Coupee as compared with that of Breaux Bridge. Another contributing factor was the absence of Acadian immigration to the parish, which meant that, unlike Creole speakers in St. Martin Parish and on the Acadian Coasts, those in Pointe Coupee were not placed in contact after 1765 with a new and numerically significant population whose speech was closer to French than their own and might have served as a linguistic model. The survival of Creole in Pointe Coupee to the present may in part be explained by the parish’s rural setting and by the slow rate at which education, the primary vehicle of Americanization, spread

through the population. Eventually, however, economic and social changes discouraged the transmission of Creole to younger generations, and it has now been largely displaced by English. Part II presents the results of an attempt to document and describe the Creole of Pointe Coupee as it may still be heard on the lips of its few remaining speakers.

PART II Grammatical Description

Chapter 4 Preliminaries 4.1 Methodology DATA COLLECTION FOR this study began in 1990, when I spent six-and-a-half months in New Roads and the surrounding area interviewing speakers of Creole. Two years later, in 1992, I moved to New Orleans, which has permitted me to continue gathering data on frequent trips to Pointe Coupee. These have ranged in duration from a single afternoon to four-month stays during sabbatical leaves in 1995 and 1999. In all, I have recorded over 150 hours of interviews with speakers of Creole in Pointe Coupee. The transcribed portions of these recordings, supplemented by occasional field notes taken from unrecorded conversations, form the corpus on which the grammatical description is based. The recorded interviews vary considerably in structure and content. A few were done with groups of speakers, but most involve just two participants, myself and a single interviewee. The advanced degree of language loss in the False River area made it difficult to arrange interviews with two or more speakers, since most of those consulted lived alone, in a nursing home, or in a household where no one else spoke Creole. Much of the research done during my first visits to Pointe Coupee Parish focused on the lexicon (see Klingler 1992 and Valdman et al. 1998), and this is reflected in the content of the interviews. Broadly speaking, these may be divided into three types: free conversations, conversations directed toward specific topics, and elicitation sessions in which a questionnaire was used. The directed conversations and many of the questionnaires were constructed to elicit lexical items for particular semantic domains (farming, hunting, fishing, cooking, sewing, and the like). For the grammatical description, I supplemented the data from these interviews with additional data gathered using translation questionnaires designed to elicit specific grammatical structures.

Since this method often produces unnatural results, I have alerted the reader to illustrative examples that were elicited by means of translation.1

4.2 Speakers Consulted for the Study I have divided the speakers consulted for the study into a primary group and a secondary group. The primary group consists of twentyone African Americans and six Creoles of color; it is their speech that forms the focus of the grammatical description. The secondary group is made up of speakers whom I consider to be exceptional for the purposes of the study because their speech contains numerous mesolectal features heard less frequently or not at all in the speech of the primary group. The most notable of these are the more frequent use of the front rounded vowels [y], [ø], [œ]; a markedly greater tendency to make gender distinctions on determiners, adjectives, and nouns; and the more frequent occurrence of morphologically complex verb forms that are rarely or never found in the speech of the primary group (e.g., voudrae ‘would like,’ poura ‘will be able to,’ voule ‘wanted to,’ ave ‘had’).2 The secondary group is made up of eighteen whites and, in addition, two African Americans (JL and LD) and two Creoles of color (DG and ML) who have had considerable exposure to Cajun French or Standard French.3 The absence from the primary group of any white speakers reflects the fact that the speech of all those I interviewed showed a markedly higher number and frequency of French-like features than were to be found among the speakers of the primary group. Thus it may be said that there is generally a strong correlation between a person’s ethnicity and the mesolectal or basilectal character of his or her speech. The correlation is not perfect, however: While the speech of no whites I interviewed was basilectal enough for me to place them in the primary group, the speech of several African Americans and

Creoles of color was sufficiently marked by mesolectal forms that it seemed appropriate to place them in the secondary group. The decision to concentrate on the speech of persons of color was made in 1990 when I first began conducting field research. It was based on the assumptions that people of African descent were the original speakers of Louisiana Creole and that their relatively basilectal speech was more "authentic" because it more faithfully represented the language as it was spoken in the nineteenth century than did the more mesolectal Creole of whites, which I, like Neumann (1984), supposed had undergone substantial influence from Cajun. Since that time, I have on occasion had doubts about the well-foundedness of this decision. One problem is that the historical relationship between "black Creole" and "white Creole" remains unclear. Can we be sure that persons of color were the original speakers of the language and that whites subsequently learned it from them? Is it not possible that the petits blancs were involved in the creolization process and began speaking Creole at the same time as the population of African origin? As explained in Chapter 3, I believe that the historical and linguistic evidence suggests that Africans and their descendants were indeed primarily responsible for the creation of Louisiana Creole and that white francophones subsequently learned it from them. Yet other questions remain. If it is true that whites learned Creole from blacks, was their form of Creole originally just as basilectal as the blacks’ and subsequently underwent decreolization? Or is it possible that because most whites came from francophone backgrounds, they acquired Creole in a form that was from the outset closer to the French? While I addressed these questions in Chapter 3, the answers I provided must be considered preliminary, and much work remains to be done in this area.

Table 10: Creole Speakers Consulted for

the Study

In addition to these historical questions, there is also the problem of the synchronic relationship between the Creole of whites and that of persons of color. As pointed out in 3.5, most Creole speakers in Pointe Coupee do not seem to be aware of linguistic variation that correlates with ethnicity, and they generally agree that all the creolophones in the area speak "the same thing." Despite this perception, a close examination of the speech of the primary and secondary groups reveals clear patterns of difference along the lines just described. I have thus chosen to continue to focus on the description of the Creole of the primary group. However, in an effort to provide a more complete picture of Creole in Pointe Coupee Parish, for relevant parts of the grammar I also include a discussion of the distinguishing features of the Creole of the secondary group. Interesting as they are, the differences between the Creole of the two groups are not as extensive as their shared features. When illustrating grammatical structures and forms that the two varieties have in common, I have thus not hesitated to use samples from both groups. However, throughout the work I have followed the practice of placing the initials of speakers of the secondary group in italics so that they may easily be distinguished from speakers of the primary group. All participants whose speech appears in the grammatical sketch are listed in Table 10. They are identified by initials in the left-hand column,4 following which their ethnicity,5 sex, and year of birth are noted. The geographical location listed in the right-hand column is not necessarily the speaker’s current residence but the place where he or she grew up, insofar as I was able to determine this. I have used the general designation "False River" for speakers whose

specific place of residence during childhood and early adolescence remains unknown to me.

4.3 English Words As is to be expected in a context where English has been the dominant language for several generations, code-switching is very common among Creole speakers, and English words abound in Creole discourse. Since nearly all speakers of Creole are also fluent in English, it is difficult to determine whether a word of English origin that is used in the midst of an utterance in Creole should be considered part of the Creole lexicon or a momentary borrowing. For the purposes of this study, I have adopted the working principle of transcribing in the Creole notational system any word that is pronounced according to the Creole sound system in a given context (e.g., the words lebay [lebaj] ‘lay by’ and kidni [kɩdni] ‘kidney,’ in which stress is clearly placed on the second syllable). Words that are not phonologically integrated into Creole are written according to English spelling and set in capital letters to distinguish them from the surrounding Creole discourse. While the principle of treating regularly assimilated items as part of the Creole lexicon appears to be straightforward, difficulties arise in applying it. Among these is the fact that the phonological system of the English spoken in south Louisiana differs substantially from that of Standard American English. Thus, for example, the closed, unglided [e] of [lebaj] is typical of the English of the area, so that the segments of this item remain essentially the same whether it is used in English or Creole discourse. It is at the suprasegmental level that the clearest distinction is made: When used in Creole [lebaj] receives stress on the second syllable rather than on the first. Items, like [lebaj], whose segments appear to be the same in Creole and English and that are not set off from surrounding Creole discourse by stress pattern, pauses, or other nonsegmental features are written in the Creole notational system.6

4.4 The Phonological System of Louisiana Creole and the Notation of Creole Sounds For this study I have adopted a notational system that is not strictly phonemic but includes some degree of phonetic detail. There are two reasons for this. The first is that, given the enormous variation in the pronunciation of Creole, the task of performing a rigorous phonemic analysis appeared daunting, indeed, and the risk of ignoring detail that might eventually prove significant, very great. A second consideration is that some aspects of what appears to be subphonemic variation in Creole pronunciation are in fact relevant for questions of the language’s relationship to French. This is particularly true of the front rounded vowels [y], [ø], and [œ] and the nasal vowels and . The appearance of [i], [e], or [ɛ] in words whose French counterparts contain front rounded vowels is one of the most characteristic features of Creole pronunciation, and there are grounds for considering the two sets of sounds to be allophones of the same phoneme when they occur in these words (e.g., [dife] vs. [dyfø] < DU FEU ‘fire’). However, the fact that both occur is significant, and to choose one set to the exclusion of the other would make Creole appear artificially homogeneous and, depending on the set of allophones chosen, more mesolectal or more basilectal than is in fact the case. Likewise, [ ] and [ ] appear to be interchangeable in most contexts, and it is doubtful that a clear set of minimal pairs could be found that would unambiguously establish their status as distinct phonemes. In some studies of Louisiana Creole and Cajun French they have in fact been conflated into a single phoneme, represented as .7 Nevertheless, in Pointe Coupee the nasal vowel of words whose French etymons have often have a very unrounded pronunciation not found in words whose French etymons have ; furthermore, in a few words the nasal vowel is denasalized to [a] (the most common example is the conjunction [ ] / [ka] < QUAND ‘when’), but this only occurs in words whose French

etymons have [ ], never in those whose French etymons have . These facts show that the [ ]/[ ] distinction has left discernible traces in the Creole of Pointe Coupee, and for this reason I have chosen to represent each vowel separately.8 The notational system I have adopted is very close to that of the Institut Pédagogique National, which serves as the semiofficial spelling of Haitian Creole (Valdman 1989, 62–65) and is itself similar to spellings currently used to represent other French-based Creoles of the Caribbean, such as those of Martinique and Guadeloupe (Bernabé 1976) and St. Lucia and Dominica (Nwenmely 1996, 77, 81). This notation is more accessible to the non-linguist than the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) would be, yet it is perfectly systematic and allows for a representation of Louisiana Creole sounds that is sufficiently precise for the purposes of a grammatical study. It is also the notation employed in the Dictionary of Louisiana Creole (Valdman et al. 1998). In the inventory that follows, the graphemes of the notational system appear in the left-hand column, while their IPA equivalents are shown in square brackets to the right of them.

4.4.1 CONSONANTS [b] voiced bilabial stop: byen

b ‘well,’ bobo [bobo] ‘sore,’ en latab [

latab] ‘a table.’ p

[p] voiceless bilabial stop: pran [pɾ

] ‘to take,’ pase [pase] ‘to pass,’ apre [apɾe] ‘after,’ sip [sip] ‘cypress tree.’ [d] voiced dental or alveolar stop: dan [d d ] ‘in,’ madam [madam] ‘lady, wife,’ malad [malad] ‘sick.’ [t] voiceless dental or alveolar stop: tan [t t ] ‘time,’ dite [dite] ‘tea,’ bat [bat] ‘to beat.’ In word-final position [t] is often weakened, and it is at times barely audible (though its influence is usually discernible in the brevity of the preceding vowel). The lenition of final [t] is especially noticeable when it follows the high vowels [i] or [e]: isit [isit], [isit]; lit [lit], [lit]; lavet [lavet], [lavet] ‘washcloth.’ g

[g] voiced velar stop: gòn [gɔn] ‘to go,’ bagas [bagas] ‘bagasse,’ la blag [la blag] ‘bladder.’ [k] voiceless velar stop: konnen

k ‘to know,’ pike [pike] ‘to prick,’ sak [sak] ‘sack.’ [ʤ] voiced palato-alveolar affricate: djich [ʤɩʃ], la djel [la ʤel] ‘mouth.’ This sound does not occur in final position. tch [ʧ] voiceless palato-alveolar affricate: tchòkòt [ʧɔkɔt] ‘hair bun,’ dj

tnotchèn [moʧɛn] ‘my, mine,’ mòtch [mɔʧ] ‘much.’ [v] voiced labio-dental fricative: valse [valse] ‘to waltz,’ anvon [

v

v

] ‘before,’ fev [fev] ‘bean.’ f

[f] voiceless labio-dental fricative: fini [fini] ‘to finish,’ toufe [tufe] ‘to smother,’ saf [saf] ‘greedy.’ [z] voiced alveolar fricative: zoranj [zoɾ

z ʒ] ‘orange,’ ize [ize] ‘easy,’ la miriz [la miɾiz] ‘cherry.’ [s] voiceless alveolar fricative: san [s s ] ‘to feel,’ patasa [patasa] ‘sunfish,’ pyas [pjas] ‘dollar.’ [ʒ] voiced palato-alveolar fricative: joli [ʒoli] ‘pretty,’ boujonnen [buʒ j ] ‘to blossom,’ rouj [ɾuʒ] ‘red.’ ch

[ʃ] voiceless palato-alveolar fricative: chante [ʃ

te] ‘to sing,’ peche [peʃe] ‘to sin,’ la ach [la aʃ] ‘axe.’ [h] voiceless glottal fricative: hont [h

h

t] ‘shame, be ashamed,’ anho [

ho] ‘on.’ This consonant does not occur in word-final position. [m] bilabial nasal: maton [mat

m ] ‘chin,’ limon [lim

] ‘lemon,’ koutum [kutym] ‘be used to.’ n

[n] dental or alveolar nasal: nokèn [nokɛn] ‘our, ours,’ onèt [onɛt] ‘honest,’ la lin [lalin] ‘moon.’ [ŋ] velar nasal: nepenng [nep

ng ŋ] ‘pin,’ banngou [b

ŋgu] ‘weed.’

This sound has phonemic status in word-final position only.9 The preceding vowel is nearly always nasalized, requiring that a sequence of digraphs -an-, -en-, or -on- + -ng be used: to lalanng ‘your tongue,’ nepenng ‘pin,’ zonng ‘fingernail’ The velar stop [g] becomes [ŋ] in final position following a nasal vowel: [lal ŋ], [nep ŋ], [z ŋ].10 In medial position, epenthetic [ŋ] often appears between a nasal vowel and a velar stop: [b gu], [b ŋgu] ‘tall weed’; [ gle], [ ŋgle] ‘English.’ Since the velar stop is always realized in this position, -ngused medially will have a different value from the one it has wordfinally: Medially, the -n- will indicate the nasalization of the preceding vowel, while the -g- will represent the velar stop [g]: bangou [b gu]. To represent the sequence of a nasal vowel + [ŋg], a second -n- will be added: banngou [b ŋgu]; anngle [ ŋgle]. gn

[ŋ] palatal nasal: lalign ‘fishing line,’ brègnon ‘nectarine,’ bengnwa ‘bathtub.’

This consonant is very rare in Pointe Coupee. It is only attested word-finally and, in a few words, medially. In medial position, French [ɲ] is usually realized as [ŋj] or, more often still, as [j] preceded (and usually also followed) by a nasal vowel (in such instances the [j] typically also receives nasalization): senyen [s j ], sennyen [s nj ] (cf. SAIGNER [sɛɲe] ‘bleed’). In Breaux Bridge [ɲ] also occurs in initial position ([ɲ mŋm ] ‘food’), but my corpus contains no examples of word-initial [ɲ]. l [1] alveolar lateral: limen ‘to light,’ balans ‘swing,’ disel ‘salt.’ [ɾ] voiced alveolar flap: rete ‘to live,’ brile ‘to burn,’ tchororo ‘weak r coffee,’ aryen ‘nothing.’ Occasionally this Creole sound is closer to the retroflex approximant of American English, [ɻ]. This occurs mostly in English borrowings, but the sound is also sometimes heard in words of French origin: [tɻɔk] ‘truck,’ [ɻœgad] ‘look.’ The allophones [ ] (velar fricative), [R] (uvular trill), and [w] (after labial consonants), which Neumann (1985a, 93) notes in Breaux Bridge, do not occur in my corpus.11

Following a vowel and before another consonant or word-finally, r is often only lightly articulated or disappears altogether. Typically, r in these positions lengthens the preceding vowel, or, in the case of [ɛ], opens it to [æ]. These effects on a preceding vowel are often produced even when the r itself is not articulated at all: sèr [sɛːɾ], [sɛːɾ], sè [sɛ], sæ [sæ] ‘sister’; parle [paɾle], pale [paːle], [pale] ‘to speak’; lir [liːɾ], li [li] ‘to read.’ As is apparent in some of these examples, the notational system I use does not indicate vowel length. Any r that is articulated, even if only weakly, is noted as r (I do not follow Neumann 1985a, 94, in using a superscript r in the notation), but a potential (i.e., etymological) r that is not articulated is not noted. Thus the verb ‘to go out’ is written sòrti when pronounced [soti], but sòrti when pronounced [sɔɾti] or, with a lightly articulated [ɾ], [sɔɾti].

4.4.2 SEMICONSONANTS y

[j] voiced palatal central approximant: ye [je] ‘they, them,’ pyas [pjas] ‘dollar,’ payas [pajas] ‘straw mattress,’ le fey [fej]‘leaf.’ [w] voiced rounded labio-velar approximant: wè [wɛ] ‘yes,’ wawaron [wawaɾ

w

] ‘bullfrog,’ fwet [fwet] ‘whip,’ kawenn [kaw

n] ‘snapping turtle.’ This semiconsonant does not occur word-finally. Neumann (1985a, 89) analyzes it as an allophone of the vowel /u/ that occurs before vowels. However, the existence of words having the sequence [uw] + vowel in Pointe Coupee suggests that /u/ does occur prevocalically

but that in such cases a transitional semiconsonant [w] appears between /u/ and the following vowel: louwe [luwe] ‘rent,’ tchouwe [ʧuwe] (more commonly pronounced tchwe [ʧwe]) ‘kill,’ jouwe [ʒuwe] (also jwe [ʒwe]) ‘play.’ In such cases of variation between [uw] and [u], I transcribe the word as it is pronounced (tchouwe/tchwe, jouwe/jwe). The rounded palatal central approximant [ɥ] is rare in Creole, but it does occasionally occur, especially among speakers of the secondary group; it is attested only before high or mid front vowels. In my corpus it occurs mainly in the word uit, in which it is usually preceded by a [j], fully or only lightly articulated: [jɥit], [jɥit] ‘eight’ (also diz-uit [dizɥit] ‘eighteen’). It may occasionally be heard in a few other words: [kɥis] ‘thigh,’ [minɥi] ‘midnight,’ [pirɥɛt] ‘somersault,’ [sɥe] ‘sweat.’ In many instances, words whose French etymons have [ɥi] are pronounced with [wi] in Creole: la kwit [la kwit] ‘la cuite’ (a thick, molasses-like byproduct of the sugar-making process) (cf. LA CUITE [la kɥit]), la nwit [la nwit] ‘night’ (cf. LA NUIT [la nɥi]), biskwi [biskwi] ‘biscuit’ (cf. BISCUIT [biskɥi]). In others, the semiconsonant disappears altogether, leaving only the vowel: fri [fɾi] ‘fruit’ (cf. FRUIT [f ɥi]). Because of its rarity, and because it never contrasts with the vowel [y], no special grapheme will be used to note the semiconsonant [ɥ]. It will be represented by the grapheme u when followed by i, e, or è: diz-uit, la kuis, piruèt.

4.4.3 VOWELS [i] high front unrounded: ize [ize] ‘easy,’ kite [kite] ‘leave,’ kriye [kɾije] ‘cry,’ santi [s i ti] ‘feel.’

The semi-high front unrounded vowel [ɩ], which is not as lax as its English counterpart, is also common in Creole, but I have subsumed it under the grapheme i. It occurs most frequently in English borrowings, but it is also found in words of French origin, especially in place of the front rounded vowels [y], [ø], and [œ]: kidni [kɩdni], [kidni] ‘kidney,’ Krismis [krɩsmis], [krismis] ‘Christmas,’ piti [piti], [pɩti] (cf. PETIT [pøti]) ‘little; child,’ ich [ɩʃ], [iʃ] ‘just’ (cf. JUSTE [ʒyst]). e [e] upper-mid front unrounded. è [ɛ] lower-mid front unrounded. These vowels alternate freely in most contexts; [e] occurs more frequently than [ɛ], however, even in final closed syllables, where only [ɛ] occurs in Standard French: èlve [ɛlve], elve [elve] ‘raise’; mete [mete], mète [mɛte], met [met], me [me] (rare) ‘put’; la tèt [la tɛt], la tet [la tet] ‘head’; la pèl [la pɛl], la pel [la pel] ‘spade.’ [ɛ] is rare in word-final position except in the expression sè te [sɛ te] (more rarely se te [se te]) ‘it was,’ before a potentially realized [ɾ], or after a nasal consonant (though [ ] is more common in this context). The only context in which [ɛ] clearly contrasts with [e] is when it occurs in final position in a word where [ɾ] could potentially follow it: fre [fɾe] ‘cold’ vs. frè [fɾɛ] ‘brother’; se [se] ‘conditional marker’ vs. sè [sɛ] ‘sister’; priye [pɾije] ‘pray’ vs. priyè [prijɾ] ‘prayer.’ When this vowel occurs in a word of French origin in which an r would follow it, it often opens to [æ], regardless of whether the r is realized or not in the Creole word. This phenomenon is not restricted to final syllables, but may occur in any syllable that could potentially be closed by [ɾ]: kofœ [kofæ] ‘why’ (< QUOI FAIRE), la tœ [la tæ] ‘land’ (cf. LA TERRE), la sœrvel [la særvel] ‘brain’ (cf. LA CERVELLE), sœrvi [særvi] ‘use’ (cf. SE SERVIR DE), bœsez [bæsez] ‘rocking chair’ (cf. BERCEUSE). œ

[æ] partially open, front unrounded vowel; intermediate in height between [ɛ] and [a].

This vowel occurs in English borrowings with [æ] (bœk [bæk] ‘back,’ Bœptis [bæptis] ‘Baptist’) and, as just noted, frequently replaces [ɛ] before a potential [ɾ]. Often the vowel that occurs is intermediate in

height between [ɛ] and [æ]; in such cases I note è or œ, according to whether the vowel appears to be slightly higher or slightly lower. Occasionally, [æ] also occurs in words that are not borrowings from English and in which it does not replace [ɛ] before a potential [ɾ]: diznœf-san-trez [næf] (more commonly pronounced nèf[nɛf] or nœf[nœf]; cf. DIX-NEUF-CENT-TREIZE [diz-nœfs t ɛz]) ‘nineteen thirteen’; rœkle [rækle] (more commonly pronounced rakle [rakle]; cf. RACLER) ‘beating.’ a

[a] low front unrounded: ase [ase] ‘enough,’ la pat [la pat] ‘dough,’ sa [sa] ‘this.’ [ɑ] low back unrounded. [ɒ] low back rounded.

[ɒ] is an allophone of [a] that occurs frequently after [w] and in syllables closed by [1] or [ɾ]: mwa [mwɒ] ‘month,’ fal [fɒl] ‘turkey gizzard.’ The allophone [ɒ] is more common among speakers of the secondary group, especially in contexts other than after [w]. The vowels [a] and [ɒ] do not contrast, and I write both as a. ò [ɔ] lower-mid back rounded. This vowel occurs primarily in closed syllables or syllables potentially closed by [ɾ]: la plòt [la plɔt] ‘ball,’ lekòl [lekɔl] ‘school,’ fò [fɔ], fòr [fɔɾ] ‘strong,’ sòti [sɔti], sɔrti [sɔɾti] (also soti [soti]) ‘go out.’ o

[o] upper-mid back rounded: ole [ole] ‘want,’ poto [poto] ‘post,’ klo [klo]’field.’

As with [ɛ] and [e], the only context in which [ɔ] clearly contrasts with [o] is in a word-final syllable in which a potential [ɾ] is not realized: (la) fo [la fo] ‘scythe’ vs. fò [fɔ] ‘strong.’ ou

[u] high back rounded: ouzòt [uzɔt] ‘you (pl.),’ moule [mule] ‘grind,’ poul [pul] ‘chicken,’ sou [su] ‘drunk.’

When [u] occurs before the final [e] of a verb, the semiconsonant [w] is usually inserted between the two vowels or replaces [u] altogether: tchouwe [tʃuwe], tchwe [tʃwe] ‘kill’; jouwe [ɛuwe], jwe [ɛwe] ‘play.’ Note also the verb boui [bui], bwi [bwi] ‘cook.’ In rapid speech, final [u] sometimes becomes [w] before a following vowel-initial word. This is not noted in the graphemic representation: Nou te met sak-la konm sa e nou ale li [nwaleli]. ‘We put the sack (over our shoulder) like so and we pulled it.’ u [y] high front rounded. eu [ø] upper-mid front rounded. œ [œ] lower-mid front rounded. These vowels, which alternate frequently with their unrounded counterparts in words whose French etymon has a front rounded vowel, are especially common among speakers of the secondary group. When used by speakers of the primary group, they are rarely as fully rounded as in French: duri [dyri], diri [diri] ‘rice’; de [de], dè [dɛ], deu [dø] ‘two’; astè [astɛ], astœ [astœ] ‘now.’ It is not uncommon, however, to hear a front rounded vowel in words that do not have one in French. Such pronunciations, which occur mainly among white speakers, may be due to hypercorrection (cf. Neumann 1985a, 87 n. 1), but this remains to be demonstrated: mulyeu [myljø] (cf. MILIEU) ‘middle’; melanjeu [mel ɛø] (cf. MÉLANGÉ) ‘mixed up’; cheuj [ʃøʒ] (cf. CHAISE) ‘chair’; klarunet [klarynet] (cf. CLARINETTE) ‘clarinet.’12 Nasal Vowels [ an ] low back unrounded nasal. [ã] low front unrounded nasal.

anba [

ba] ‘under,’ santi [s

ti] ‘feel,’ kan [k

] ‘when.’ [ on ] lower-mid back rounded nasal. [õ] upper-mid back rounded nasal. onz [

z] ‘eleven,’ konte [k

te] ‘tell,’ pobon [pob

] ‘pitcher.’

As noted above, [ ] is subsumed under [ ] in many studies of Louisiana Creole and Cajun French; the distinction is maintained here, however, because there is reason to believe that it still plays some role in Pointe Coupee: Previous studies of Creole in this region have recognized both vowels (Jarreau 1931; Perret 1933), and my own data show that etymological [ ], unlike etymological [ ], is often fronted to [ã] or even denasalized to [a]. Thus the conjunction kan, while it is sometimes pronounced [k ], may also be pronounced [kã] or [ka]. [ en ] lower-mid front unrounded nasal. [

] upper-mid front unrounded nasal. [

] partially open, front unrounded nasal vowel; intermediate in height between [

] and [ã] en [

] ‘sg. indefinite determiner,’ rense [r

se] ‘whipping,’ dipen [dip

] ‘bread.’ This is the only nasal vowel besides [ ]/[ ] that has clear phonemic status: fen [f ] ‘hungry’ vs. fon [f ] ‘deep’; senyen [s j ] ‘bleed’ vs. sonyen [s j ] ‘feed’; ren [r ] ‘backbone’ vs. ran [r ] ‘row.’ œn

[

] lower-mid front rounded nasal: lœndi [l

di] ‘Monday’; œn bal koton [

bal kot

] ‘a bale of cotton’; mo gen yenk œn [mo g

j

k

] (ID) ‘I only have one.’ This vowel is very rare in Pointe Coupee and is used primarily by speakers of the secondary group.13 It may be considered a variant of [ ] that occurs occasionally in words whose French etymon also has [ ] (though in the vast majority of cases French [ ] is realized as [ ] in Pointe Coupee); it may also result from the contextual nasalization of [œ] or [ø]: dejœnnen [deʒ n ] ‘breakfast’; kèkŐnn-dòt [kɛk n dɔt] ‘someone else.’

Contextual Nasalization Oral vowels are frequently nasalized under the influence of a following nasal consonant. Contextual nasalization of the vowels [e], [ɛ], [a], [o], [ɔ] is so common in some words that there are no clear synchronic grounds for considering that one vowel is basic and the other derived: kone [kone] vs. konnen [k n ] ‘know’; fam, fòm [fam], [fɔm] vs. fanm, fonm [f m], [f m] ‘woman’; nòm [nɔm] (rare) vs. nonm [n m] ‘man’; mènè [mεnε] (rare) vs. mennen [m n ] ‘bring.’ Wordfinally, [e] and [e] commonly undergo progressive nasalization: fimen [fim ] ‘to smoke’; konnen [k n ] ‘know’; frenmen [fr m ] ‘close.’ Nasality may cross over an intervening [j] to affect final [e] or [ɛ]: prenmyen [pr mj ]. Etymological [ɲ] (a palatal nasal) and [nj] typically occur as [j] or [ ] (nasalized [j], not represented in the notational system), with nasality transferred or extended to neighboring vowels: prizonyen [priz j ] (cf. PRISONNIER [prizɔnje]); priyen [prij ] ‘plum tree’ (cf. PRUNIER [prynje]); benyen [b ] ‘bathe’ (cf. BAIGNER [bɛɲe]). As noted above, the mid front rounded vowels [œ] and [ø may also become [ ] under the influence of a neighboring nasal

consonant, although this is only attested among speakers of the secondary group. More rarely, the vowels [i] and [y] take on the nasality of a contiguous nasal consonant; the consonant usually follows the vowel, but may also precede it (for reasons having to do with the coherency of the notational system, which I explain below, I do not note contextual nasalization of these vowels): fimye [fimje], [fĩmje] ‘fertilizer’; kontinu [k tiny], [k tĩnỹ] ‘continue’; depech komin [depeʃ komin], [depeʃ k mĩn] ‘clingstone peach’; deprum [deprym], [deprỹm] ‘plum.’ The vowel [u] is very often nasalized in the word moun ‘person.’ This is so characteristic of the pronunciation of this word (at least among certain speakers) that I have chosen to write the word as moun when there is no nasalization of the vowel ([mun]), and mounn when the vowel is nasalized ([mũn]), despite the fact that the combination of graphemes ou + n represents [un] in all other contexts (see below). The vowel [u] is occasionally nasalized in other words where it is preceded or followed by a nasal consonant, but these instances are not represented in the notation: mou [mu], [mũ] ‘soft’; lamou [lamu], [lamũ] ‘love’; lemou [lemu], [lemũ] ‘lungs’; nou [nu], [nũ] (rare) ‘1 pl. pronoun’; tounen [tun ], [tũn ] ‘return.’

Problems in Representing Nasal Vowels The digraphs an, on, en, œn represent the nasal (or nasalized) vowels [ ], [ ], [ ], and [ ] before a consonant or semiconsonant or at the end of a word: sante [s te] ‘health’; divan [div ] ‘wind’; hont [h t] ‘be ashamed’; mouton [mut ] ‘sheep’; pentire [p tiɾe] ‘to paint’; plen [pl ] ‘many, lots of’; œn [ ] ‘one.’ In medial or initial position before a vowel, however, they represent sequences of an oral vowel + [n]: kana [kana] ‘duck’; fiy-d-onè [fijdonɛ] ‘maid of honor’; ena [ena] ‘there is, there are’; jœnou [ʒœnu] ‘knee.’ To represent a nasal vowel followed by [n], a second grapheme n is placed after the nasal

digraph: lannen [l n ] ‘year’; konnen [k n ] ‘know’; mennen [m n ] ‘bring’; dejœnnen [deɛ n ] ‘breakfast.’ This system of representing nasal vowels by means of a series of digraphs consisting of a vowel grapheme (a,o,e, etc.) + n presents difficulties in two contexts. One is that of a nasal vowel followed by another vowel within a word. These instances, which are very rare in Creole, are handled by the ad-hoc device of placing a hyphen between the n of the nasal vowel digraph and the following vowel grapheme: an-o [ o] (also pronounced anho [ ho]) ‘on, on top of.’ The second problematic context is that of a sequence of one of the oral vowels [a], [o], [e], [œ] + [n] in word-final position, since the graphemes an, on, en, œn are reserved for the representation of nasal vowels in this position. The solution adopted here is to place a grave accent over the vowel to show that nasalization does not take place and the n is to be pronounced; in the case of the grapheme o, a grave accent represents the lower-mid variant [ɔ], while an acute accent is used to represent the upper-mid variant [o]:14kabàn (more often kabann) [kaban] ‘house’; vòn [vɔn] ‘sell’; jón [ʒon] ‘yellow’; motchèn [moʧɛn] ‘1 pl. possessive adjective/pronoun’; j n [ʒœn] ‘young.’15

4.5 The Division of Lexical Units Dividing the lexical units of Creole poses numerous problems to which there can be no wholly satisfactory solution. The conventions I have adopted do not correspond precisely to those of any previous work on the French-based creoles, though I have followed Neumann (1985a) closely on many points.

Agglutinated Nouns

A large number of nouns in Creole take an agglutinated initial element having its origin in a French determiner or prenominal adjective that has been reinterpreted as an integral part of the noun. Nouns susceptible to agglutination may be divided into three groups according to the kind of element they take: (1) nouns with initial l-, n-, z-; (2) nouns with initial la-, le-; and (3) nouns with initial di-, du- and de-, dez-. That these initial elements do not function as determiners or have any identifiable semantic value of their own is demonstrated by the fact that the noun to which they are attached may itself be preceded by a determiner or adjective, or followed by a postposed demonstrative determiner or plural definite/deictic determiner:16 en lannen ‘a year’ en zepran ‘a spur’ vou nepòl ‘your shoulder’ so latet ‘his/her head’ en gro lefey ‘a big leaf’ en defig ‘a fig’ en bon divan ‘a strong wind’ The nouns of groups (1) and (3) almost never appear without an agglutinated element and are therefore written with this element attached in all contexts, including those in which no determiner or adjective actually precedes them.17 Many nouns of group (2), however, occur frequently without initial la- or le-. For this reason, when la and le do occur with these nouns, it is difficult to know whether they function as determiners or as agglutinated elements unless the context provides clear clues. For the purposes of this study, la and le are considered to be agglutinated—and are accordingly attached to the noun—when they are also preceded by a determiner or adjective, as illustrated above, or when the noun they precede is itself followed by a postposed demonstrative determiner (sa-la, -sa-ye) or a plural definite/deictic determiner (-ye); otherwise these elements, when they appear, are written as separate units. In citation form la and le are placed in parentheses preceding the noun to which they may agglutinate.

ave la men ‘by hand’ so lamen ‘his/her hand’ Li kouri la mezon. ‘He/She went home.’ so lamezon ‘his/her house’ lamezon-sa-la ‘that house’ lagid-ye ‘the reins’ (la)men ‘hand’ (citation form) (la)mezon ‘house’ (citation form) (la)gid ‘rein(s)’ (citation form)

Compounds As a rule, the elements of a compound are written as separate units linked by a hyphen if they also occur independently or if they may be replaced by another element to form a different compound. It is not always easy to determine, however, whether or not two or more independent morphemes that frequently occur together should be analyzed as a lexicalized unit. I have followed a conservative policy in such unclear cases and have not hyphenated them. Examples of compounds that are hyphenated include the following: gran-momon, gran-popa ‘grandmother, grandfather’ bo-fis, bo-pè ‘son-in-law, father-in-law’ sa-ki ‘who, what’ sa-fe ‘so’ The elements of compounds formed with d or de are also linked by hyphens: kou-d-pye ‘kick’ mal-de-tet ‘headache’ anfan-d-gas ‘son of a bitch’ The pronouns lezòt ‘the other(s),’ nouzòt ‘we, us,’ vouzòt ‘you (pl.)’ are written as units to avoid making an arbitrary choice as to which

element z belongs to, despite the fact that le, nou, vou, and zòt all occur independently. Compounds with Initial a, an, o The division of lexical units is particularly difficult in the case of adverbs, prepositions, and conjunctions that occur with the prepositions a, an, and o. In such cases I write the elements separately, unlinked by hyphens: an bòr isit ‘on this side’ an bout, o bout ‘at the end’ a drwat ‘right, to the right’ a gòch ‘left, to the left’ I have made exceptions, however, of a few very common grammatical elements that clearly function as a unit and are consistently treated as such in the literature on French-lexifier creoles. These I have written as a single unit, without hyphenation: anba ‘below, downstairs’ andan ‘in’ anho ‘up, upstairs’ laba ‘there’ sitan ‘so much’ The adverb and preposition anho has a variant without h, pronounced [ o]. Since, according to the conventions of the notational system used here, the spelling ano would represent the pronunciation [ano], a hyphen must exceptionally be used to show that the a is not nasalized and that the n is pronounced: an-o (see above). Postposed Determiners The definite/deictic determiners -la (sg.), -ye (pl.) and the demonstrative determiners -sa-la (sg.), -sa-ye (pl.) appear after the

noun in Creole. In the notational system used here, these determiners will be linked to a noun they determine by a hyphen: Chyen-la trape lodè lapen-la. ‘The dog caught the rabbit’s scent.’ Depech-ye mi. ‘The peaches are ripe.’ fwa-sa-la ‘this time’ Depech-sa-ye, ye mi. ‘Those peaches are ripe.’ The determiners la, ye may also determine an entire noun phrase, including a relative clause. In such instances, no hyphen is used: mo frè ki mouri la ‘my brother who died’ èn dan nyès mo mari ye ‘one of my husband’s nieces’

4.6 Editing of Transcribed Speech In the interest of accuracy, I have edited the data very little. To facilitate reading, however, I have in some instances eliminated repetitions and false starts when I felt confident that doing so would not in any way misrepresent the grammatical structure of the utterance. Thus, for example, I have rendered the halting utterance dan la kou, dan la kou, uh, uh, Misye G. (YC) ‘in the yard, in the yard, uh, uh, [of] Mr. G.’ as dan la kou Misye G. ‘in Mr. G.’s yard’ and mo, mo mo mo, mo chanje mo nide (YC) simply as mo chanje mo nide ‘I changed my mind.’ When longer segments have been deleted I indicate this by means of an ellipsis: ‘…’. Passages that were unclear on the recording are indicated by an ellipsis placed within parentheses: ‘(…)’. A dash ‘______’ indicates an abrupt change of direction in mid-sentence.

4.7 Descriptive Framework

The framework I have adopted for the description of the morphosyntax of Pointe Coupee Creole matches closely those used in previous studies of French-lexifier creole varieties, including the Creole of Breaux Bridge (Neumann 1985a), Seychelles Creole (Bollée 1977), and Tayo, the Creole of New Caledonia (Ehrhart 1993). The use of a common framework has the advantage of facilitating comparative research on different regional varieties of Louisiana Creole and on different French-lexifier creoles throughout the world. In the grammatical description presented in Chapter 2, considerable emphasis is placed on the ways in which the Pointe Coupee variety of Louisiana Creole differs from that of the Bayou Teche region (as described in Neumann 1985a). For certain key parts of the grammar I have compared the Creole of Pointe Coupee to the other Frenchlexifier creoles of the world. Comparative information is provided for agglutination; definite, demonstrative, and possessive determiners; personal, demonstrative, and possessive pronouns; long and short verb forms; preverbal markers of tense and aspect; the copula; and reflexive verbs. However, I have not made a systematic attempt to establish the origin of Louisiana Creole words and structures. Such a study, as well as a more thorough comparison of Louisiana Creole to the other French-lexifier creoles and to regional and vernacular varieties of French, are beyond the scope of the present work, one of the primary aims of which is precisely to facilitate further historical and comparative studies of the French-lexifier creoles by providing a thorough description of one of them, amply illustrated with data.

Chapter 5 The Noun Phrase 5.1 Nouns NOUNS IN THE Creole of Pointe Coupee, as in Louisiana Creole generally, may be divided into two broad classes. One class comprises nouns of French origin having an initial agglutinated element derived from a French definite, indefinite, or partitive determiner; the other consists of nouns of various origins, but mainly French, which have no such agglutinated element.1

5.1.1 NOUNS WITH AN AGGLUTINATED ELEMENT The nouns of this class may be divided into three subgroups based on the kind of agglutinated element they take: (1) l-, n-, z-, which have their origin as the final element of a preceding determiner or adjective, attach to nouns whose French etymons begin with a vowel; (2) la-, le- form the initial element of a large number of nouns that begin with a consonant in French; and (3) di-, du- and de-, dezappear on a number of nouns that in French are frequently used with a partitive or plural indefinite determiner. While Cajun has many instances of agglutination of a single consonant as in group (1), it does not show agglutination of syllabic elements as in (2) and (3). This type of agglutination thus serves as a salient marker of Creole in contrast to Cajun. It is also substantially more widespread in the Creole of Pointe Coupee than in that of Breaux Bridge: While Neumann’s (1985a) glossary contains only 42 nouns having an agglutinated syllable, my corpus contains 180 nouns attested at least once with clear agglutination of a syllabic element.2 Each type of agglutination in Creole is considered individually in the pages that

follow. The lists of nouns belonging to each group are not meant to be exhaustive, merely illustrative.

5.1.1.1 GROUP 1: l-, n-, zAs the examples below illustrate, the nouns of this group almost never appear in unagglutinated form, even when they are preceded by a determiner or adjective;3 for this reason the noun and its initial element are transcribed as a unit in all contexts. Note, however, that some nouns show variation in the initial element they take. This variation often occurs in the speech of a single individual, as well as from speaker to speaker. Initial llanmson ‘hook’; lanne ‘year’; laj ‘age’; lasyèt ‘dish’; lèb (also zèb) (var.) ‘grass, weeds’; lekiri ‘stable’; lekòch ‘bark; hull’; lestanp ‘branding mark, branding iron’; lestoma (var.) ‘chest; stomach’; letwal ‘star’; lofis ‘office’; lòr ‘gold’; louvraj (also nouvraj) (var.) ‘job, work.’ Mo mèt en lafisèl an la avè en lanmsan e en bouchon (FV) ‘I put a line on there (i.e., on the fishing pole) with a hook and a cork.’ Nou tou te pyoche.… Koupe vye lèb-ye (OL) ‘We all hoed. (We) cut the old weeds.’ mo lasyet (ID) ‘my dish.’ Chval-ye te gen en lekiri (ID) ‘The horses had a stable.’ en pè louvraj (FV) ‘a little work.’ Initial zzanfan4 ‘child’; zafè (also lafè) (var.) ‘thing’; zaret ‘fin’; zèb (also lèb) (var.) ‘weed, grass’; zeklè (var.) ‘lightning’; zepran (var.) ‘spur’; zonng

‘fingernail, toenail’; zoranj (var.) ‘orange’; zorey (var.) ‘ear’; zotey (var.) ‘toe’; zwazo5 ‘bird.’ en ti zanfan (ID) ‘a little child.’ Zeklè frape kabann-sa-a (FV) ‘Lightning struck that house.’ en zepron (ID) ‘a spur.’ mo zonng (ID) ‘my fingernails.’ M ape pliche en zoranj (ML) [trans.] ‘I’m peeling an orange.’ to zotey-ye (ID) ‘your toes.’ Initial nThe set of nouns beginning with agglutinated n- is small and shows a great deal of variation. In particular, initial n- alternates with initial lfor many nouns of this group. Among the most common nouns with initial n- are negwi (var.) (also legwi) ‘needle,’ nepòl (also lepòl) (var.) ‘shoulder,’ nechel ‘ladder,’ nonm ‘man,’ and nouvraj (also louvraj) (var.) ‘work, job.’ file negwi-la (ID) ‘thread the needle.’ gro nègwiy lonng, pou pike kwil (NH) ‘(a) big, long needle, for stitching quilts.’ Wa so nepòl te gonfle (AS) ‘(I) saw that its shoulder was swollen.’ Sa se vou nepòl (LD) ‘That’s your shoulder.’ Li kite so nechel dèryè (AS) ‘He left his ladder in back.’ Le machin pran tou nouvraj (AS) ‘The machines take all the work (away from people).’

5.1.1.2 GROUP 2: la-,6 leInitial laThis group is the largest among nouns showing agglutination and is highly variable: While some nouns occur regularly with agglutinated la- (e.g., latet, lavi), others occur at least as often without it (e.g., chenn, janm). In the case of the former, it is not unusual to find them in unagglutinated form when preceded by a preposition in fixed expressions: so latet vs. mal-de-tet ‘headache.’ The majority of nouns showing agglutination of la- are monosyllabic in their base form, but agglutination of la- to two-syllable nouns is not uncommon, and there are even a few instances of three-syllable nouns that attach this element (e.g., (la)sikleri ‘sugar factory,’ (la)sosyete ‘mutual aid society’). In his analysis of the Creole of St. Martinville, Lane (1935, 11) links the agglutination of la- and di- by polysyllabic nouns to their use in partitive constructions: "Words of more than one syllable do not prefix di or la unless used in a partitive construction: kafe-la pa b ‘le café n’est pas bon’…, farin-la gate ‘la farine est gâtée,’ etc.; but partitively: fe nuzɔt dikafe ‘faites-nous du café,’ m’ole lafarin ‘je veux de la farine.’"7 In my corpus there are numerous examples of polysyllabic noun stems that have agglutinated la- in nonpartitive contexts: so ladepons (ID) ‘his pantry,’ en nouvo lamezon (FV) ‘a new house.’ Di-, de-, and dez-, however, are only attested as agglutinated elements on monosyllabic nouns, though these may sometimes enter into compounds: demi-nwa ‘blackberry,’ depèch-komin ‘clingstone peach.’ In most instances where la occurs without a preceding determiner, there are no clear grounds for deciding whether it functions as part of the noun or as a definite determiner. To this problem Neumann (1985a, 156 n. 2) devised the reasonable solution of attaching la orthographically to the noun whenever it was preceded by another determiner (tou mo lavi ‘all my life’) or followed by plural -ye (lakordye ‘the strings’); in other contexts she writes la separately (La vi te dur lez-ot fwa ‘Life used to be hard’), and in citation form she places

la in parentheses before the noun (e.g., [la]vi).8 I have adopted the same practice for this study but have extended the criteria for writing la- and the noun as a unit to include a preceding adjective, as in en ti lagrenn (ID) ‘a little seed,’ and a demonstrative determiner (-sa-la, sa-ye), as in lamezon-sa-la ‘that house,’ lavesel-sa-ye ‘those dishes,’ lagid-ye ‘the reins.’9 (See below for a similar treatment of agglutinated le-.) Any noun that is attested at least once with lawhen also preceded by an adjective or another determiner is written as (la) … in citation form to show that it is potentially agglutinated. A number of nouns usually or always appear with la in my corpus and yet are never attested with a preceding adjective or determiner. In citation form these are accompanied by la written as a separate unit (e.g., la kokluch ‘[the] whooping cough’) to distinguish them from nouns that are not attested with preposed la. Further research may reveal that some of these do in fact show agglutination. Nouns clearly attested with agglutinated la- include: (la)œs (var.) ‘harrow’; (la)bouch ‘mouth’; (la)bròs ‘brush’; (la)chanm (var.) ‘bedroom’; (la)-chenn ‘chain’; (la)dans ‘dance’; (la)depans (var.) ‘pantry’; (la)figi ‘face’; (la)fisel (var.) ‘string’; (la)flech ‘metal tongue for hitching a wagon or farm implement to a draft animal’; (la)gè ‘war’; (la)gòj (var.) ‘gorge’; (la)grenn ‘seed; testicle’; (la)ke (var.) ‘tail’; (la)kizin ‘kitchen’; (la)kou ‘yard’; (la)kwis ‘thigh’; (la)lanng ‘tongue’; (la)lwa ‘law; police’; (la)lyòn (var.) ‘vine’; (la)-manch (var.) ‘handle; lane’; (la)men ‘hand’; (la)mezan (var.) ‘house’; (la)miray (var.) ‘wall’; (la)mont ‘watch’; (la)mwal (var.) ‘brain’; (la)pel ‘spade’; (la)pli ‘rain’; (la)po ‘skin, hide’; (la)pòt (var.) ‘door’; (la)priyè ‘prayer’; (la)pyòch ‘hoe’; (la)sante ‘health’; (la)sel (var.) ‘saddle’; (la)si ‘saw’; (la)sikleri (var.) ‘sugar factory’; (la)tet (var.) ‘head’; (la)vach ‘cow’; (la)vi ‘life’; (la)vyòn (var.) ‘meat.’ so ladepons (ID) ‘his pantry.’ To ramas to lagrenn kote moulen si t ole (AS) ‘You get your (cotton) seed at the mill if you like.’ Se en lahæs (AS) ‘It’s a harrow.’

Mo travay dan en lakizin (ID) ‘I worked in a kitchen.’ to lakwis (ID) ‘your thigh.’ En poro, l a pouse an to lamen o an to lafigi (FV) ‘A wart can (lit., will) grow on your hand or on your face.’ en nouvo lamezon (FV) ‘a new house.’ Sa se vou lamezon, en? (FV) ‘That’s your house, isn’t it?’ Nòm-sa-la bati lamezon-yen laba-la (FV) ‘That man built those houses over there.’ To gen to lamont ankò? (AS) ‘Do you still have your watch?’ Nou jwen e la pli, gro lapli, divan kan nou te e kouri (NI) ‘We ran into rain, heavy rain and wind on our way (lit., when we were going).’ Ye mete en lapo bef on en bari e ye bimen sa (AS) ‘They placed a piece of cowhide over a barrel and they beat on it.’ fe en lapriyè (AS) ‘say a prayer.’ Diri se bon pou to lasante (FV) [trans. ‘Rice is healthy food.’] ‘Rice is good for you (lit., for your health).’ en gro latchye (ID) ‘a long tail.’ M ole trè en lavach (FV) ‘I’m going (lit., I want) to milk a cow.’ Lavesel-sa-ye sal (FV) ‘Those dishes are dirty.’ Initial leNouns with agglutinated le- (< French masc. LE or pl. LES) form a marginal class in the Creole of Pointe Coupee. They are few in number and show considerable variation between the agglutinated and unagglutinated forms. Their presence in Pointe Coupee is

significant, however, because it distinguishes the Creole of this parish from that of St. Martin Parish, where Neumann (1985a, 156 n. 1) reports having found no examples of agglutinated le-.10 In all, my corpus contains fourteen nouns that occur at least once with agglutinated le-: (le)fey (var.) ‘leaf, leaves’; (le)fos*(CB) ‘clippers’; (le)four-chèt* (ID) ‘gig(s)’; (le)fwa (var.) ‘liver’; (le)gid (var.) ‘rein, reins’; (lè)kolye* (LD) ‘harness collar’; (le)kòt ‘ribs’; (le)mit ‘moth’; (le)mou (var.) ‘lungs, lights’; (le)plas* (ID) (usually plas) ‘plantation, property, place’; (le)pomon ‘lungs’; (le)trip ‘intestines’; (le)twal* (FV) (var.)11 ‘spider’s web’; (le)zèyl (var.) ‘wing.’ While most of these nouns tend to be used in the plural, several of the examples below are clearly in the singular. Dibwa-sa-a gen de gro lefey (FV) [trans.] ‘This tree has big leaves.’ nenpòt-ki lefey ki laj (ML) ‘any leaves that are wide.’ Se ti lefey-ye ki pik moun (OL) ‘They are little leaves that sting people (i.e., nettles).’ Lefey-sa-la mouri (FV) [trans, ‘a dead leaf’] ‘That leaf is dead.’ Ena en lefey mouri an latè (FV) ‘There’s a dead leaf on the ground.’ en lefòs* (CB) ‘a pair of clippers.’ gro lefourchèt* (ID) ‘large gigs.’ to lefwa (ID) ‘your liver.’ to lekòt (FV) ‘your ribs.’ Mo kase enn dan mo kòt-ye, mo kase enn dan mo lekòt-ye12 (ID) ‘I broke one of my ribs.’ en lemit ‘a moth.’ to lemou (FV, ID) ‘your lungs.’

Lòt leplas te konnen èlve sa (ID) ‘Other plantations used to raise that.’ Sa va dan to lepomon (ID) ‘It gets into your lungs.’ to letrip (ID) ‘your intestines.’ Sè en gran lèkolye (LD) ‘It’s a big collar (for a harness).’ Vou pren en legid (LD) ‘You grab a rein.’ So lezèyl kase (GL) ‘Its wing is broken.’

5.1.1.3 GROUP 3: di-, du- and de-, dezInitial di-, duThe nouns in this group are fairly numerous. The variation in form that they exhibit is similar to that described by Neumann for Breaux Bridge, where unagglutinated versions occur occasionally but are clear marks of mesolectal speech (1985a, 151).13 Because the agglutinated forms are far more common, the initial element will be attached orthographically to the noun in citation form and in speech samples (except in the rare instances when this element is not pronounced), regardless of whether or not another determiner or prenominal adjective occurs. Note that the i of di- is often rounded to u (though the degree of rounding rarely approaches that of French /y/). Dibè (var.) ‘butter’; dibwa14 (var.) ‘tree, wood, woods’; dife ‘fire’; difil (var.) ‘thread’; difwon ‘hay’; diji (var.) ‘juice’; dikwiv* (FV) ‘brass’; dile ‘milk’; dipen ‘bread’; diplan (var.) ‘plant cane’; diri (var.) ‘rice’; disab ‘sand’; disan (var.) ‘blood’; disel (var.) ‘salt’; disik (var.) ‘sugar’; divan (var.) ‘wind’; diven (var.) ‘wine.’

Li mèt dibè-la on dipen-la (FV) ‘He puts the butter on the bread.’ Se en gro dibwa (ID) ‘That’s a big tree.’ Difil matla. Gro gro gro difil (FG) ‘Mattress thread. Very thick thread.’ Nou pèd tou no mayi, tou sa nwòye, si to te wa, tou no difwon, nou pèd tou sa (ID) ‘We lost all our corn, all of it flooded. If you had seen! All our hay, we lost all of it.’ Mo gen en lapòt an dikwiv (FV) ‘I have a brass door(knob).’ Li te gen so lavach pou so dile, li te fe so OWN dibè (ND) ‘She had her cow for her milk, she made her own butter.’ Si to koupe to janm o to bra disan è senyen (AS) ‘if you cut your leg or your arm and it’s bleeding.’ en ban divon (ID) ‘a good (strong) wind.’ Initial de-, dezWhile most of the nouns in this group show agglutination as regularly as those of the preceding group, a number of them occur frequently in unagglutinated form in the speech of both the primary and secondary group. These are treated orthographically in the same way as the nouns of the la-, le- group and may be distinguished in the following list from nouns showing more stable agglutination by the parentheses surrounding the initial element. The members of this group include: (de)chou ‘cabbage’; defig (var.) ‘fig’; dekann (var.) ‘sugar cane’; deklou ‘nail’; demi (var.) ‘blackberry’; demlan (var.) ‘watermelon’; demouch ‘fly’; depis ‘flea’; depòm15 (var.) ‘apple’; deprin (var.) ‘plum’; depwa ‘pea’; depwa/depwar ‘pear’; devè ‘worm’; dezef16 (var.) ‘egg’; dezo ‘bone’; dezwit ‘oyster.’ Vou kònen ki se sa en defig? (LD) ‘Do you know what a fig is?’

Grate so sabo wa si te en deklou k t anndan (AS) ‘(He) scraped its hoof to see if there was a nail in it.’ Demi-sa-la li mi (FV) ‘That blackberry is ripe.’ Le e manje en depòm (FV) [trans.] ‘He’s eating an apple.’ M e manje en deprim (ID) [trans.] ‘I’m eating a plum.’ en devè (FD) ‘a worm.’ sis dezèf (LD) ‘six eggs.’ Dan to do to gen en dezo. … To pele sa to ren (ID) ‘In your back you’ve got a bone.… You call that your spine.’ Mo trape en dezwit (FV) ‘I caught an oyster.’ Finally, the noun dolo (var.) ‘water’ [< Fr. (DE L’) EAU] is in a class by itself, for no other Creole noun shows agglutinated dol-. Since the presence of an agglutinated syllabic element does not change the meaning of the noun in any obvious way, the agglutinated element is generally not considered to have morphemic status. In Klingler, Picone, and Valdman (1997, 165), however, we suggest that these agglutinates might in fact be analyzed as noun markers.17 Such an analysis is supported by the fact that the agglutinated element is always lost in verbs derived from nouns by addition of the suffix -e, (la)drag ‘dragline’ → drage ‘to fish with a dragline’; (la)kòd ‘cord of wood’ → kòrde ‘to cord wood’; (la)hæs ‘harrow’ → hærse ‘to harrow’; deklou ‘nail’ → klouwe/koulwe ‘to nail.’ As we observe, "the apparent incompatibility of the agglutinate and the suffix reinforces the status of both—the former as a nominal marker and the latter as a verbalizer."18

5.1.2 UNAGGLUTINATED NOUNS As noted above, most of these nouns are also of French origin. In many cases they have been adopted with no change in form or with only slight changes to make them conform to the Creole phonological system (loss or weakening of postvocalic r, unrounding of front rounded vowels, reduction of word-final clusters of a stop or [v], [f] + liquid, etc.): bari ‘barrel’; bato ‘boat’; bef ‘bull’; fose ‘ditch’; morso ‘piece’; moulen ‘mill’; chiko ‘stump, stubble’; etc. In other cases they have undergone less predictable changes such as apheresis (bitasyon, also labitasyon OUR FATHER pare konm nouzò?

TK: Wè wè wè wè wè. … Translation of "Dances and Other Topics" NF: How old are you? TK: I’m thirty-three. NF: Thirty-three, mhm! TK: Yes. NF: You’re still young. TK: You think so? NF: You’re just in your prime. [Laughs heartily.] Yes. And me, I’m eighty, eighty-eight, going on eighty-nine. And B., he’s eightysomething. TK: Ninety, he told me. NF: Yes, uhuh. Yes sir. TK: And the two of you were raised together? NF: Yes. (He) was a little older than me but we were all (i.e., both?) raised together. We used to go to dances. Do you go to dances? Like music? TK: I like that, yes. NF: Yes. My grandfather (father?) used to play violin. TK: Yes? NF: (…) violin. And my uncle used to play a bass——a bass violin. A big thing, that’s a bass. That’s what he used to play.

TK: And did you go to dances? NF: Oh yes, used to go to dances all the time. [Laughs.] (I) liked that. Used to dance. … TK: What did you all use to dance? NF: Oh (…) danced the two-step, waltzed. TK: And how was it at the dances? NF: It was fine. TK: What did the people do? NF: They used to have dances to raise money. We had to go to—— (…) we had to go treat the girls. That’s how they would pay the musicians. That’s why they gave dances. I don’t know if you do that in your area? When you go—— TK: No, no, I never did that. NF: No? But you paid to go into the dance hall, didn’t you? TK: Ah yes, yes, yes. But you used to go treat the girls? NF: Yes. TK: What does that mean? NF: That means (they…) had fruit to sell. So (…) you took figs or bananas. Or apples, something like that. And they would take that, and they would bring a bag, and they would put their fruit in it. Put their fruit in it. TK: And were there people who fought from time to time?

NF: From time to time, but not much. Did you use to fight when you went to a dance? TK: No. NF: No? TK: No, (I) didn’t do that. Where were they, the dances? NF: We used to go to dances in New Roads. Yes. TK: Did they have a hall for that? NF: Oh yes, they had a hall, yes. Yes sir. TK: Were there just colored people, or was everybody there? NF: No, it——everything was segregated. (…) we couldn’t go to the white dances. Couldn’t go to the mulatto dances, either. They "classed" [i.e., separated] themselves. TK: They "classed" themselves? [Laughs.] NF: Yes. [Laughs.] (You see) mulattoes come from blacks. A woman, a white man mixes with a colored woman, that brings a mulatto. Then, the mulatto, he goes and marries another mûlatresse, that brings a nation of mulattoes. They don’t mix with us. [Laughs.] I can’t go with them. I can’t even go see their girls. [Laughs.] Does that exist there? Does that exist in Indiana? TK: Not so much. NF: No, there aren’t many mulattoes there. … NF: And B. is all alone, he hasn’t taken another wife, has he? TK: No.

NF: He lost both his wives. TK: That’s what he told me. NF: Yes. Now he’s living by himself. TK: Mm, yes, yes, yes. NF: Mhm. It’s not good for him to live alone like that, sickness could come on during the night, or during the day. Even if he’s got a telephone he might not be able to get to his telephone to call his s ——he has a son who lives in New Roads. TK: He has a son in New Roads? NF: Yes. That’s where he lives. He has two sons but one of them was killed in a wreck. (He was) running the car so fast, (he fell?) he killed himself. That was bad, huh? … Translation of "Translation Task" TK: I’m going to tell you various things in English and I’d like for you to tell me how (you?) say it in Creole. NF: Mhm. TK: In English I say, "Anyone can learn to read." NF: Nenpòt-ki-moun ka aprann pou Mr. [Laughs.] TK: "Anyone can learn to swim." NF: Nenpòt-ki-moun ka aprann pou naje. [Laughs.] TK: Mhm, mhm.… "I’ll sell my car to anyone who has enough money to buy it."

NF: Mo kapab vann mo cha ave nenpòt-ki-moun ki gen ase larjan pou peye mon. [Lit., ‘I can sell my car to anyone who has enough money to pay me.’] TK:… "He’ll talk to anyone who will listen." NF: Mo kapab pale e nenpòt-ki sa-k ole tannde. [Lit., ‘I can talk to anyone who wants to hear.’] TK: Mhm, mhm, okay, okay. "They ate so much they could hardly stand up." NF: Li monje tro iska li pa ka debout. [Lit., ‘He ate too much until he couldn’t stand up.’] [Laughs.] That’s something, huh? TK: How ’bout, could you say, ‘Ye monje sitan’?. NF: Li monje tro. TK: Ye monje tro, mhm. You wouldn’t say sitan there? NF: That’s right, Li monje tro bokou [‘He ate too much.’] TK: Tro bokou, okay. NF: Tro bokou. [Laughs.] TK: Okay. Uhm, "He won’t let me drive his car." NF: Li pa b——li p ole mo draiv so cha. [Lit., ‘He doesn’t want me to drive his car.’] TK: [Laughs.] Okay, okay. Uh, "Did you let her come with you?" NF: Mo p ole li vini ave mon. [Lit., ‘I don’t want her to come with me.’] TK: Uhuh, okay, okay. "Did you leave the dog at home?"

NF: Mo l——mo kite mo chyen kote mo lamezon. [Lit., ‘I left my dog at my house.’] TK: Uhuh, okay, okay. Can you say Mo lèse mo chyen? NF: Mo kite mo chyen la mezon. TK: Mo, mo kite, you wouldn’t say Mo lèse mo chyen kote la mezon. NF: No. [Then changing his mind.] You can say it that way, too. TK: Oh yes? NF: Yes, oh yes. TK: To lèse? That’s all right? NF: That’s all right. TK: To lèse to chyen—— NF: Mo, mo lèse mo chyen kote mo lamezon. … Translation of "Fishing" TK: Did you use to fish? NF: Yes! Used to fish, used to catch fish. TK: How did you do that? NF: Had a line. Then we dug worms, and put on the hooks, and then we cast (it) into the water, the fish would come and bite on it. [Laughs.] B. used to fish, too. Yes sir, mhm! TK: And did you just fish like that, or did you fish other ways, too?

NF: No. Sometimes, there were kinds of canals in the woods. And there were choupique. (…) a fish they called it ‘choupique.’ We had barrels and we would go catch that. [Laughs.] TK: With barrels? NF: With barrels. Uhuh. That was a long time ago, that was. And then the bulldozers bulldozed all the woods, and they filled in all the canals. That doesn’t exist anymore. [Pause.] That’s funny, isn’t it? TK: Yes, yes. NF: Uhuh, yes sir. TK: Have you ever used a square net? NF: Yes. (…) go catch crawfish. [Laughs.] Did you use to catch crawfish there? TK: No. NF: No? TK: No. They don’t eat crawfish in Indiana. NF: No? You don’t eat crawfish? TK: No. NF: No? TK: I don’t know why. NF: Is it your religion that tells you not to eat crawfish? NF: [Laughs.] No, no. People just, they don’t do that, (I) don’t know why. NF: They just don’t want to eat that.

TK: They just don’t want to eat that. NF: Uhuh. And crabs. Do you eat that? TK: We don’t have that. NF: (You) don’t have that there. TK: No. NF: No. Uhuh. But… do your father and mother live in a town or in the country? TK: It’s in the country. NF: In the country? Do you raise chickens? TK: No, nothing. NF: (…) don’t raise hogs or anything at all? TK: No. NF: Don’t have cattle, anything like that. TK: No. But all around, there was that. NF: Oh yes, (but) in the direction you lived there wasn’t that. TK: There wasn’t that. But my grandfather and my grandmother used to raise chickens, hogs. NF: Yes, cattle. TK: Cattle, yes. NF: Do you have your own place in Indiana?

TK: [Hesitates, unsure of precise meaning of question.] My mother and father have that, yes, mhm. NF: Oh yes, uhuh. (…) have your own home. TK: Yes. NF: That’s good. How many miles is it from here to Indiana? Really far. TK: Maybe 750 miles. NF: Houwa! That’s a long ways. TK: Yes, it’s far. NF: Yes sir, it’s really far. Is it a big town? TK: No, it’s a little town. NF: Yes? Not big like New Orleans? TK: No! No. NF: Oh no? TK: It’s about like New Roads. NF: Yes? TK: Yes. Did you use to take a thing that looks like a fork to kill the fish? NF: Yes. A gig. TK: A gig? NF: Uhuh. (We) threw (it), (it) had a rope, we had a pole on the gig, we’d throw it, to spear fish. [Laughs.] Yes sir, uhuh. Did you have

that there or didn’t you have that? TK: No, we didn’t have that, no. NF: And you don’t have rivers, or ponds for going fishing, nothing at all like that? TK: There are rivers and ponds to go fishing, yes there are people who do that, I never did that, well, a little bit when I was little I (…) NF: Oh yes, but since you’ve grown up, you’ve stopped all those things. [Laughs.] TK: Yes, I don’t have time to do that. NF: [Laughing] That’s right, that’s right. Uhuh, uhuh. Yes sir. Mhm. And you have a lot of friend there, eh? TK: Yes, yes. That’s true. Mhm. Translation of "Religion" NF: And do you have a church you go to? Do you have a preacher or a priest, something to tell you religion and all? Preach religion? TK: Yes, yes, we have that, yes, mhm, mhm. NF: Do you believe when you die you have a soul in your body to come out and rise? Do you believe in that? TK: That I don’t know. NF: [Laughs.] You see us, the Baptists, (they) all believe, they have priests or preachers, who preach to tell them, say prayers to go to the good place and do what’s good, not to do anything that’s bad. Do you—— TK: Yes, yes, they used to tell us that, too, yes. Yes.

NF: [Laughs.] Uhuh. Oh yes. And do you have a church? TK: Yes, yes, yes. NF: Mhm. Does it have lots of members? TK: Mhm, mhm. NF: Do you pay so much to——who do you pay to keep up the church? Do you have a priest or a preach—— TK: Yes, there’s a preacher, yes, mhm, mhm. NF: Uhuh. That’s how we are. Here we have a priest. (You see) he says mass, we take a collection. La ket that means to give money in the collection (plate?), to help him to make a living. Because he doesn’t do——doesn’t work at all. He just has to preach religion. (…) the same with you, huh? TK: Mhm. NF: [Laughs.] I figured that. TK: Same thing. … Translation of "Blacks and Whites in Church and School" TK: At St. Mary’s were there all kinds of people or just colored people? NF: In the big church, there in New Roads? TK: Mhm. NF: Well, everyone, there were colored, whites, everyone went there. But since they built a church in back of New Roads, it’s all coloreds who (…) there. The whites all go by themselves, and the coloreds go by themselves. But in Lakeland, coloreds and whites all

go together because they have just one church there. But in New Roads there are two. There’s one for coloreds and one for whites. TK: And in Lakeland, do the people, colored people and white people, do they sit together? NF: Well they, they all——oh yes. They all sit together. For a time we couldn’t go sit together with the whites. We had to sit by ourselves. But then they stopped that. [Laughs.] TK: Do you remember that, when that existed all over here? NF: Oh yes, I remember when we couldn’t go sit with the whites. We had to sit apart, we had pews where we sat apart. Mhm. But—— today everything is equal. When they used to give their fairs, the mulattoes used to give their fairs, we couldn’t go there. That’s halfwhite and half-black. But today, the priest says all people are people. Whether he’s black or whether he’s white, they’re all the same.… Everyone together. (When they) have fairs, everyone goes there. (No sections, not mixed up at all?) Are you the same (in your) home? TK: Yes, but there aren’t lots of colored people there. NF: No? TK: There are almost only white people. NF: Yes? TK: Because it’s the country. And in the North, there are hardly any black people, colored people, in the country. NF: Yes? TK: They all went to the city to find work. NF: Oh yes. TK: Yes, yes. But they can always sit together, go together.

NF: Yes, yes. TK: But before it was never like that here, I think. NF: No, never here. [Pause]… When I was growing up a long time ago when I went to school, we didn’t have more than three months of school. Today the blacks have nine months of school just like the whites. We didn’t have any school bus, and the whites had a wagon with two mules to haul the children to school, we couldn’t——we didn’t have that. Had to walk four or five miles. Sometimes we didn’t (have) a lesson at all, it was those who were more advanced than us, who had to help the school teachers, give us a lesson. Sometimes no lesson at all. It was bad in those day, huh? TK: Mhm, mhm. NF: Everyone is together today. Blacks have nine months of school, whites have nine months. And they all go together to the same school. In Indiana is it the same? TK: Yes, it’s the same. NF: Everyone is equal? TK: Mhm, mhm. [Changing subject] But, were your mother and father from here, too? NF: Oh yes, this is their home in Pointe Coupee Parish. This is where they were born and raised. TK: And your grandmother and your grandfather too, do you know? NF: Well, my grandfather, his grandm——his mother came from Africa when the whites took the coloreds and sold them like horses and mules. That’s the way [laughs], that’s the way our old greatgreat(-grand…). Sold them like mules and horses. And, if there was a big man and a big woman, they would put them together so they

would have a big man and a big woman. [Laughs.] That was something, eh? TK: Mhm, mhm. NF: [Laughing.] Yes sir, yes sir. TK: You say it’s your grandfather who comes from Africa? Who came from Africa? NF: Great-great-grandpa. TK: You didn’t know him? NF: Oh no, I didn’t know him, no. That’s where they came from, Africa. And they bought them on the other side in——on the other side of the ocean, tricked them, put them in a [laughs], in a ship, and they brought them here, and the whites here go to buy them. Sold them like they sold animals. [Laughs.] That’s something, eh? TK: Yes. They tricked them? NF: [Laughing] Yes. They didn’t know better, the people in Africa didn’t know anything, but today, Africans are well educated, they know things. But at that time, the people didn’t know anything. And the coloreds never had much education. (It was just) the whites who had education. But today the coloreds are lawyers,7 and they know the law and they vote, and everything. We couldn’t vote here. When they passed vote (…) to vote, that’s when we were able to vote, we couldn’t vote for anyone (before). But now we can vote for who we want. What do you have there, uh, Republicans or Democrats? (What are you, Republican or Democrat?) Translation of "Politics" TK: I’m not a Democrat and I’m not a Republican, but when I vote, I always vote Democrat. NF: Oh yes, you like Democrats. [Laughs heartily.]

TK: I don’t like Democrats, but I prefer Democrats to Republicans. NF: What do you think about the president we have now, what kind of guy, do you think he’s a good guy? Not really, huh? TK: I think he’s too weak. He says many things he wants to do, but then he doesn’t do it, he doesn’t try enough to push through what he wants to do. NF: Well, he makes too many promises. TK: Yes. NF: And he can’t fulfill the promises. He can’t deliver the promises, what he told the people that he was going to do. And a man can’t make the law all by himself, it has to go through Congress. If they all agree on it it’ll pass, he can sign the bill, but if the people don’t want it he can’t sign the bill. And he’ll veto the bill. That’s the biggest problem. TK: That’s right. NF: That’s right. He gives a bill, he signs a bill that provides (I) don’t know (how many) millions of dollars, to run the United States. And then he said that he would give the poor people jobs and all that, but he can’t do those things. If I have a construction company, and I don’t want to hire that man, he can’t make me hire him. That’s where the trouble is. He says he’ll provide I don’t know how many jobs in the United States, but even if the jobs go to the United States, and the one who’s controlling the jobs, if he doesn’t want to hire the men, he still can’t do it——can’t make the man hire people that he doesn’t want. That’s the trouble. And the people who vote don’t understand that. A man will say anything (…) in politics so that he can get into office. He’ll say anything. Then afterwards, when he’s in it, he can’t do what he said. Half the things (he can’t do). (…) certain things he can do but not the majority. That’s what the trouble with politics is! [Laughs.]

TK: It’s always easier to make promises than to, than to—— NF: To fulfill them. TK: Yes, yes. NF: That’s where the problem is. … NF: (President) Bush was all right but many things he could have done he never did. And that guy, he’s all right in a way, but all the important guys he puts into office are white like himself, he never puts blacks. TK: Who? NF: Uh, uh, Clinton, what do you call him? TK: Clinton? But he tried, he tried to put colored people but the Republicans, they’re against it [laughs]. NF: He wanted to put an attorney general, colored woman in office. He said she was qualified, after that he changed, said the woman wasn’t qualified, he put a white in there. TK: Yes. NF: Isn’t that right? TK: That’s right! That’s right. NF: [Laughs.] Right now, it’ll be four years (that he’s) in office but after four years, coloreds aren’t going to vote for him. TK: Mhm, you think (not)? NF: Oh no. He doesn’t want to help the coloreds, he doesn’t want to put them in a higher office, he doesn’t want to put them in an important office. He said that woman was qualified, she was a first-

class school teacher. She was qualified, he said he couldn’t appoint her because she wasn’t qualified. But that same woman will vote for him. That woman voted for him, though. That’s where the problem is. So, politics is just about money. When (you) put him in office, he’ll take whatever he wants in there, and he’ll do what he wants, and he’ll make his salary, what he’s making, so much a month, and then he can take what he wants in there. You won’t know. That’s politics. TK: That’s politics. NF: [Laughs.] Isn’t that right? [Laughs.] TK: Exactly. NF: Yes sir. But you see the black people, that was their party, Republican. My old parents (?) were Republicans. TK: Yes? NF: That was their party. And when I was born and raised, I became a Democrat. TK: Why? NF: Well, they said that Democrats were better than Republicans because they said Republicans caused the Depression. When they had the thing they called the WPA. That was the Depression. Worked for a dollar and a half a day, and couldn’t work every day. There were so many people who didn’t have a job, they had to give everyone a little work. So, the Democrats, they didn’t do that. That’s the trouble (…) and (…) Republicans. They said they stayed twelve years in office and they said they didn’t—— not enough so they put the Democrats back in. [Laughs.] Isn’t that right? [Laughs.] TK: That’s right. NF: Yes. Do you vote?

TK: I didn’t vote the last time because I had just moved to Louisiana, and I wasn’t registered. NF: You weren’t qualified, you have to live six months in a place to be qualified to vote. TK: Mhm, yes, I wasn’t registered. But, the next time, I’m going to vote. I’m going to vote, I believe. NF: You’ve lived long enough in Indiana. TK: Yes. NF: Uhuh. You weren’t a citizen for a——yes, you were a citizen in a way, but not a citizen for voting. TK: I——I could vote but I didn’t know where to go to register. … NF: But formerly we didn’t vote in Pointe Coupee Parish. And then they passed a law that said that we could vote. (…) that’s when we could vote, couldn’t vote before. [Laughs.] Couldn’t. TK: Have you always voted? NF:… After they passed (a law) so I could vote, but I had already become an old man (before) I could vote, all the time that I was a young man I couldn’t vote. That’s where the problem is. … Translation of "Religion Again" NF: Did you hear the preacher, the one they call, uh, the big preacher who——how do they call him again? He’s from up there in the North, he goes all over the United States. Billy Graham. TK: I’ve heard of him, I’ve seen him on TV. NF: Yes, you’ve heard him speak, haven’t you?

TK: A little bit, a little bit. NF: That’s a smart guy, that guy. TK: Well yes, he’s smart, yes. NF: He goes all over abroad…, in Germany, in Jamaica, in France, he goes all over. All over the world. He’s a great man, that man’s smart. TK: Did you know that the Pope is coming? NF: He’s here now! TK: He’s here now? NF: I think he’s here now. … ST: That’s the highest thing you got. NF: Oh yes. He’s the one who gives us all the priests.… When they ordain a priest, he has to go to school I don’t know how many years ——a priest is a smart man. And if he does something that’s bad, they fire him, they remove him.… But a preacher isn’t the same, even if he does something bad they keep him there, but a priest isn’t the same [laughs heartily]. Yes sir, oh yeh. All religions are good. We’re all praying to the same god. All religions are good. I had one of my sisters who was a Catholic, she quit the Catholic church, she took another religion. We didn’t want her to do it but she, that’s what she wanted. TK: What did she take? NF: She took another kind of religion. TK: You don’t know which one?

NF: I don’t know——its name, the religion, but she took another. We didn’t want that, because she was born and raised Catholic. There are lots of religions that come here, that ask me if I want to join them, I tell them I can’t. I say, ever since I was born I’ve been a Catholic, and when I die I’ll be a Catholic just the same. I can’t. I say, your religion is as good as mine, mine is as good as yours. But I can’t leave mine to take yours. I’ve been too long a Catholic to leave it. [Pause, NF laughs slightly.] TK: Yes, I understand that. NF: And there are all kin——there are, I don’t know how many denominations there are in (this world?). There are all kinds of religions. TK: Yes, there are lots of them [laughs], there are lots of them now. NF: There are religions, when you die, they burn you. [Pause.] When someone dies in your religion, do you wake him? Or do you just bury him? TK: We just go bury him. NF: You don’t wake him? TK: No. NF: You see us, when someone dies, we wake him. Say prayers, and the priest, or the preacher, preaches over them. TK: Did you use to go to wakes? NF: Yes! Oh yes. My mother died, my father died, we waked them. My brother died, (we) went to wake him. Oh yes. TK: (Did you) use to stay all night? NF: Half the night. When you go to the undertaker’s shop, they give you a chance to wake until ten o’clock, after ten o’clock, they close it.

TK: Did people use to sing? NF: Yes, sang all kinds of songs. TK: Were there people who used to sing in Creole? NF: Oh yes. But I never did. I never learned that. … TK: You don’t remember what they used to sing? NF: No, I don’t remember. You see, Catholics say prayers in French, in Creole. But I never learned that, my mother taught me English. In your religion do you say your prayers in English or in French? TK: English. NF: English. Mhm. Just the Lord’s Prayer like us? TK: Yes yes yes yes yes.

7.7 Interview with YC and JL YC and JL are black women who grew up together in Ventress, on the Island. At the time of the interview, YC, born in 1909, lived in New Roads and JL, born in 1913, lived in a subdivision just outside of New Roads. The interview took place at YC’s house in late August of 1991 during a followup visit after my initial stay in New Roads a year earlier. I first met JL on the follow-up visit, and she agreed to take me to see her childhood friend YC. Also present are JL’s daughter EL and YC’s niece, identified here simply as N. Neither EL nor N speaks Creole, but they both understand it. Although YC and JL grew up together in the same community, I have included YC in the primary group of speakers and JL in the secondary group. JL’s speech shows a number of mesolectal features that she herself attributes to influence from her father, who

worked among speakers of Cajun French for many years outside of Pointe Coupee Parish and who was apparently influenced by their speech. I first noticed the mesolectal nature of her speech in her lexical usage. She has a much broader lexical range than many speakers, and her words often have a more French-like form than is common among speakers of the primary group. An example of this appears in the discussion of preparing the body for a wake. JL asks if I am familiar with the word èspoze ‘to lay (the body) out’ (< Fr. EXPO-SER), which in fact I had not heard before in my research in Pointe Coupee, despite having had discussions about wakes with many different speakers. Not only was this word evidence of an exceptionally rich vocabulary, but the initial vowel gave it an unusually French-like form, since words that begin with a vowel in French tend to be made consonant initial in Creole through agglutination (e.g., lemen ‘like, love’ < Fr. AIMER) or apocope (e.g., koute ‘listen’ < Fr. ÉCOUTER). The word takes on a completely French form just two lines later when JL reintroduces the k: èkspoze. YC, in contrast, despite having just heard JL pronounce èspoze and èkspoze, then pronounces the word herself in a fully Creole-like form showing both apocope and consonant cluster reduction: poze. Note also that JL and YC each use i (< Fr. EU, past participle of AVOIR ‘to have’) once for ‘had’ rather than the more basilectal te gen. I had asked to come interview YC about life on False River in former times. It quickly became apparent that talking about her past meant far more to her than casual reminiscing. The story she had to tell was one that she believed in deeply and that she invested with great moral and religious significance. It was also full of lessons and messages, often delivered with a fire-and-brimstone quality: people were better in the past; people complain today but don’t know how lucky they are; young people today can’t imagine how hard we worked when we were young and how bad we had it; people complain that the country is no good today, but it’s people who are bad, not the country; and so on. YC and JL are both fervent Baptists who converted from Catholicism many years ago. They regularly attend church, and I have seen YC get up before the congregation to lead them in song, prayer, and call and response. She is quite a

performer, and even at her advanced age can really get the congregation going. During this conversation she often seemed to slip into her role as a gospel messenger, uttering her statements as exclamations, with great emphasis and feeling. With JL constantly interjecting her agreements ("uhuh," "that’s right!" "Wè!"), the scene sometimes sounded like a call-and-response session between a preacher and the congregation. In order to convey something of this flavor——but at the risk of rendering the reading tedious——I have included many such interjections in the transcription. School and Work YC: Vye mounn tan pase ye te lenm pa lekòl. JL: Non, ye te pa, ye te pa BELIEVE tro, tro dan lekòl. YC: Ye vòye ye piti-ye lekòl——mo mo kour lekòl mo te katòz on. TK: Ka vou kòmanse kouri lekòl? JL: Wè. YC: Kan mo konmonse mo aprann en peu.8 JL: Wè, e li aprann en peu (…). YC: Mo ap——mo aprann (en) bon mòrso. JL: Wè, wè. YC: Mèrsi Bondjyeu pou sa. JL: THAT’S RIGHT. (…) kòmanse kouri lekòl. YC: THAT’S RIGHT. TK: Konbyen lanne vou kouri lekòl?

YC: O, me dan en lannen mo te trap de fwa ich en jou! Par mwa konm sa mo se trap de fwa (kat), vye mounn-ye di to te gen kouri fe kèk lòt zafè. JL: (Kouri dan) dezè. YC: To te gen pou kouri. JL: (Kouri) dan dezèr, to te gen (kou dan) dezè YC: De fwa mo te bije STEAL mo TIME OFF pou galope pou kouri kote—— mo te lenm kou lekòl. TK: Vou te lenm sa? YC: O wè mo te lenm kou lekòl. Mo aprann en pe osi. JL: YEH. TK: O, me vou te pa gen tan pou fe sa, bokou tan pou, plen tan pou fe sa? Kouri lekòl? JL: Men non (li te pa gen tan pou kouri lekòl li) te gen pou travaye dan dezèr. (…) YC: Non, mo te, non, mo te va pa mòtch. TK: [In response to JL] Pou vouzòt, ou pou lòt moun, ou pou vou fanmiy ou pou…? JL: Pou so fonmiy e pou lòt moun. YC: Aben, e——ena dan vye mounn-ye, mo pa konnen, ye te lenm pa ye piti kou lekòl. JL: THAT’S RIGHT. Ye te (ich te leme pa) ye te pa konnen mye (…), ye te pa konn aryen pou lekòl.

YC: Ye te ich lenm, ye te ich pa konnen myeu keu, (ye) lenm pa (ye kou) lekòl. "Mo ti-fiy e mo ti-garson, e le ti-garson ansanm, mo ρ ole ye kou lekòl konm sa."9 JL: YEH. YC: Sa-fe, ina dan nouzòt, nou te nèf, piti mo monmon te gen. Aben. (…) se mon ki aprann plus ke enn. (Paseu se mon ki.…) TK: Se vou p——uh, pli laje? pliz aje ou, pli vye? YC: Non, se pa mon ki (ply vye) mon se katriyenm. TK: Katriyenm. E—— YC: Lès mo wa astè (…). Mon mo se katriyenm-la dan nèf. … Life in Days Gone By TK: E, vou, vou ne e elve on Lil osi, se sa? YC: Wè, an Vèntrès an, an Lil. JL: An Ventrès an Lil. TK: Vouzòt te vwazen? YC: Non, pa vwazen. TK: Pa vwazen? JL: Nou te vwazen apre li marye ave mo prèmyè kouzen. Nou te vwazen. YC: Mo te vwazen ka mo te—— JL: Tchobo sa, Y. [handing her the microphone].

YC: Ave, (…) JL: Met li kote to labouch. TK: Kòm, kòm sa. JL: Mèt li kòm sa. YC: [Who has been speaking inaudibly for the last few moments.] O nou te, nou te bon. JL: Nou te, nou te vwazen apre li marye ave mo prèmyen kouzen. YC: Wè. JL: E la nou te vwazen, nou èlve tou no piti-ye ansanm konm sè e frè. TK: Se bon kòm sa. YC?: E mwa e li nou v——nou te va kon——, nou va konm sè e frè, kòm de sè. JL: Wè. Nou janmen i en parol ant nouzòt. Toujou kouri byen. TK: Sa se byen bon pou viv kom sa. JL: Ansanm. Wè. TK: E sa sè te toujou dan Vèn——Vantrès? … YC: Wè, tou dan Vèntrès, wè. (Tou) dan Vèntrès, wè. JL: La nou MOVE don Chmen Nef la, e nou frekont pa souvan pakeu [sic] nou pa gen labarkasyon [laughs]. Men kan nou kapab nou jwann èn-alot! Wè. TK: Vou frekant pa, sa sa min vizite, ou…

JL: Non, si (èl) veu vizite, nou pe pa vizite konm nou te konnen paseu nou pa pròch konm nou te konnen et. … JL: [To YC] Mèt li kote to labouch. YC: O, o! JL: Kote to, kote to—— YC: Aben mo mo gen, [louder, assertively] la mo gen parle pou momenm astè! JL: Wè, uhuh, YES! YC: Mo mo gen parle pou mo-menm ki se sa, BA——BACK YONDER! JL: THA——wè, THAT’S RIGHT! Se sa li vini pou! TK: Mè wè (…) YC: TIME, (ka) tan pase, BACK YONDER. JL: Uhuh! TK: Se——komon sè te? YC: Mo wa ou mo sòr, mo pa ich wa ou m e kouri. JL: Uhuh! YC: Mo wa ou mo sòr. JL: THAT’S RIGHT, nou kon—— YC: Me se bon kan to wa ou to sòr! JL: THAT’S RIGHT.

YC: Si to wa ou to sòr, t a konnen aou t e kouri ka t a, ka t a (vini pou…) JL: THAT’S——kan t a rive pou kouri la, THAT’S RIGHT. YC:… Mon mo COME UP IN MY LIFE, dan motchèn lavi, IT WAS TOUGH! JL: Se sa mo di li. YC: Lite TOUGH! JL: Sè te byen tòf! YC: Mo wa ki-chò, JL: Sè te byen (STROUGH [sic]). YC: mo wa ki-chò, LORD, sa mo te, sa mo——e m a janmen bliye li! JL: Hmhm. YC: M a janmen bliye sa mo wa. JL: Ben non! YC: E konmon ton te va AND EVERYTHING. JL: Wè, wè. YC: Y ich pari——aben ina di se pei-la ki pa bon. JL: Mhm. YC: O na di se pei-la! Men mon mo krwa pa se pei-la! JL: Se pa pei-la se monn, YC: Se mounn! Se mounn!

JL: se 1 monn ki dan 1 pei, k ape fe leu, traka. YC: Paseu se pa konm sa mounn te, tan pase. JL: Huhuh. YC: Na, t a malad, ye pe e vini wa twa astè-la. JL: Ye pe e vini wa twa sèlmon. YC: Na ka—— tan BACK, huh! Vye—— mounn-ye se kouri frekante mounn, e si ye se pa gen ase lenj pou mèt on ye, ye se donn ye yetchenn pou mèt on ye! JL: THAT’S RIGHT, THAT’S RIGHT. YC: E ka vye f——mounn-ye se kou travay, ye se prann ye piti-ye, ye se kite kote lòt vwazen-la ki va pa travay. JL: Uhuh. YC: E ye se TAKE CARE OF ye byen. JL: THAT’S RIGHT. YC: Aben jòrdi èna pa moyen fe sa. JL: Huhuh. YC: To pa ka touche piti kèkenn astèr-la! Ye ρ ole to touche y paseu (se si se sa) traka. JL: Wè. YC: Me tan pase se pa konm s te. JL: Hmhm. YC: La, monmon sotchenn mari

JL: Mhm! YC: konm èlve nouzòt paseu noutchenn monmon te gen travay. Dan la kou Misye G. JL: Dan la kou blan-yè. YC: Dan la kou blan JL: (…) lòt blan-ye YC: li te gen travay JL: travay YC: e i te pey pa RENT. JL: THAT’S RIGHT. YC: Men sa ye te gen fe, te gen travay don la kou la… ye se donn ye en vye lamezon pou ye rèste. JL: Wè. Mo di vou sa yèr, en? YC: Mo vini, mo vini, mo vini, R——R——ROUGH. JL: ROUGH! YC: Se sa-ki fe mon mo pa kapab fe mal. JL: Hmhm! YC: Si m ole fe——mon pa konnen ki se sa fe mal! JL: Nou pa konnen ki se sa pou trète 1 mounn mal. YC: Mon m pò konnen[< pa konnen], mo pò konnen ki se sa. JL: Nou pa konnen kòmon pou konmonse sa.

YC: E, e, e, e rèlmon astè, mo krwa le mounn blan te meyè ton pase ke astè. JL: Mhm, wè. YC: O wè! Paskeu ye te fe pa (mòn di)——Man, mon, mo kan mon mo ne, mo, mo t——motchenn monmon te travay dan la kou TP. E, ka li li se gen en ti bebe, madonm blan-la se gen en ti bebe, JL: Mhm. YC: li li se swanyen ti bebe madonm blan-la JL: Mhm. YC: e dèn sotchenn. Li se dòn li sotchenn BREAST. JL: BREAST, uhuh, YEH. … JL: Se sa ye pèl vou donn tète. Dòn piti-la tète. … YC: Mo nyes vini chèche mon kote en lekòl. Lekòl (drèt dan) Chmen Nef la. Pou mo vini parle kreyòl kote mounn-ye, sa, sa nou, sa mounn tan pase kouri THROUGH. JL: Kouri THROUGH, kòmon ye èlve ye piti-yen, kòmon ye (pase). YC: E, e, e sa ye——THAT’S RIGHT, kòman ye te ajèt lenj pou ye. JL: Mhm. YC: Aben enen en charet ki te pas. JL: Mhm. YC: Letòf-la sè te sen sou la yad.

JL: Sen sou la yad pou letòf. YC: Sen sou la yad. E nou monmon se kouri achte kote charet li achte en gro blòk. E li se vini e so sizo e so negwi, e li se fe nou ti ròb-ye pou mèt an nouzòt. E nouzòt souye, nou tou te pa ka gen souye. JL: Mhm. YC: Kan mo popa (te) chèche en pèr tenis pou mo frè, senkont sou, JL: Mhm. YC: ka li vini e li li te tro piti, i dòn li kote mon. JL: Mhm. YC: La, frè te gen rèste san. JL: [Laughs.] YC: THAT’S RIGH——sa se sa mon mo—— JL: Sa se vre wi, sa! YC: THAT’S WHAT I KNOW! JL: THAT’S RIGHT! YC: Se sa mon mo konnen sa mon mo mo, JL: Sa se vre, uhuh, wè. YC: se sa mon mo konnen. JL: Sa se vre. YC: E, ye mannde mon pou chante kreyòl.

JL: Mhm. YC: Pou chante kreyòl. JL: (…) an kreyòl. TK: Wè? JL: Uhuh. YC: THAT’S RIGHT. JL: Li konnen, li konnen chante en peu kreyòl. YC: Mo chante kreyòl. TK: Vou, vou ka chante pou mon? YC: Ye di sa, ye di——wi—— JL: Mhm, wè li kapab. YC: ye di, ye di konmon ye te konnen CARRY mounn mouri. Ka mounn-la se mouri, ye se kou DRESS li, oben ye se DRESS li kote la mezon e ye se veye li—— TK: Vou gen en paròl pou sa an kreyòl, DRESS li? JL: Wè, chanje li. YC: Chanje li. TK: Chanje li. YC: Chanje li, wè. JL: Chanje li (mwa?), benyen li e chanje li, pou èspoze li. YC: THAT’S RIGHT.

JL: Vou konnen sa ye pel èkspoze? YC: Wi. TK: Se sa vou di osi an kreyòl? JL: Uhuh, èkspoze. YC: Wè, THAT’S RIGHT, poze li, THAT’S RIGHT. JL: èkspoze, se s——LAY, LAY, LAY, LAY HIM OUT. èkspoze. YC: E la ye se vèye ye. … TK: [To YC] E, sa vou te wa ankò? Vou te di mon vou te wa plen zafè kan vou te, pli jenn. YC: Wa mounn blan-ye bimen mounn, mounn nwa-ye. JL: Mounn koul——nwa, THAT’S RIGHT, te konnen konyen nouzòt. YC: Mo wa sa. TK: Wè. JL: YEH, i te konnen konnen——konyen nou vye mounn-ye, sè te SLAVE TIME. YC: (Kote la, kote) la mezon mon momon li te travay dan la kou mounn blan-ye. JL: Bimen ye. YC: E, JL: Taye le piti-ye. Sharecropping

TK: Vou te pa gen la tè pou vou? YC: Non. TK: Te toujou JL: O non! TK: lwe la tèr ou (…) travay JL: (…) wè, wè. YC: (…) TK: (Vou di) peye lwaye? JL: Wè, peye lwaye travay pou la motchye travay pou le kar. YC: [Speaking at same time as above, but completely inaudibly until JL pauses] ON THE FIRST, kan nou FIRST vini, nou te gen pou trav —— Ye se donn nouzò en vye lamezon pou nou rèste nou momon e nou popa. JL: Wè, uhuh. YC: Men, ye ye te gen travay, ye te, ye te kou JL: Ye te gen travay pou ye pou la (pou) YC: dan dezè, (kan) ye te pa, ye te pey pa RENT. JL: Te pey pa la lwaye. YC: La (i) te gen (…) travay, travay pou ye. JL: Lwaye, dòn ye la mezon pou travay pou ye, pou travay pou ye. YC: Wè. E ka momon-ye se travay dan ye lakou ye te pey pa ye.

JL: Non. YC: Ye se dòn ye, JL: Te gen travay pou aryen. YC: ye se dòn ye en pe monje konm sa. JL: Uhuh. YC: O ka ye se, pliche depwa, ye se dòn ye kè-ye pou mennen la mezon e pitiye te tro konton JL: Tro konton p—— YC: pou monje le (mòs ennen) andan l. JL: THAT’S RIGHT, THAT’S RIGHT. (Mòs ennen) andan. Ye te gen pliche depwar-ye, ye te gen pou koupe la chèr-1 an depwar-le, kèrla. YC: Wè JL: Ye te don ye, li. E (den ye) te menn ye kote nouzòt e se sa nouzòt n te gen monje. Kèr depwa-la. YC: THAT’S RIGHT. TK: Depwa se… JL: Depwa se PEAR. YC: PEARS. TK: PEARS, OH. YC: (Se) te tòf. JL: YEH.

TK: Me (poukwa) vou te di mon, titalèr vou te di mon, (vou) te krwa moun, moun blan ye, ye, ye pir astèr-la kè anvon, ye te meyæ anvon? JL: Men, sa—— TK: E la vou di mon tou (…) tan pase. JL: Non, la se WAY BACK LONDER [sic] me 1 e pale.… Astœ, astær-la, ye pa osi mal ke sè te BACK YONDER. TK: (Vou pa k——vou krwa sa.) JL: Non, ye po osi mal, paske, nou gen plus la libèrte, ke, nou te gen bæ—— laba dèryè. Kan nou travay ye pey, ye gen peye nouzò. TK: Mhm, mhm. JL: (…) E, nou kapab achte, la tè, nou ka achte la mezon, AND THINGS LIKE THAT. Nou te pa ka pou fe sa b——uh, dèryè. YC: O men non. TK: E, WHEW! Tan te dir? [YC and TK appear to be having a conversation on the side, but it’s completely inaudible.] JL: Wè! Plen, o, plen dir. Nou te pa gen monje de fwa pou monje. Lenj pou mèt an nou piti-ye (pel nouzò). Ye mache ni-pye. TK: I——Ni-pye vou di? JL: Pa gen souye. Sa t——ni-pye. Ni-pye se kan to pa gen souye an to pye. YC: THAT’S RIGHT. JL: Sa se ni-pye.

TK: E vou te gen mache, uh, lwen pou kouri dan chan, trava——dan dezè, pou travay? JL: O wè, n te va—— TK: Sè te lwen, o—— JL: Lwen! lwen! Nou te gen ki te pròch e nou te gen ki te lwen, men nou te kouri on wagon. Ave nou mile-ye. E kouri dan wagon, kouri lwon dèryè. Wa ye te gen la——uh, koton plante devan e mayi ON THE——GOIN’ ON WAY BACK IN THE FIELD. E nou te gen kouri on wagon. Te gen (…) de lak, on wagon pou kouri lot kote. … YC: O no ja (si frwa). … YC: Nou ja prète difeu kote enn-a-lòt. JL: Wè, p—— YC: Pa gen! JL: Pa gen z——pa ka achte zarimet! Nou prète dufe. YC: (…) mo dèzyenm ti bèbè i, mo, mo mari te pa gen pase en sen sou dan so pòch. E l te trouve sa deyò. JL: Wè [laughs]. YC: Deyò! JL: Sen sou ave senk dezœf, heh, Y.? [Laughs.] YC: (… sen sou.) Dezèf sè te mo krwa THIRTY CENTS A, A DOZEN, e nou ka, ma——men mon poul-ye te e ponn dan s tan-sala.

JL: Uhuh. … Belief in God JL: Ina en bondjè! Vou BELIEVE andan Bondjè? YC: ènen en Bondjeu (…). JL: Vou BELIEVE dan Bondjè? TK: (…) mo krwa sa. Mo pa konne aou! [Laughs.] JL: Men nou, mon, nou pa konnen. YC: (… pa konnen aou) mo janmè wa li. JL: Se pa nou biznis aou li ye! Me li la! YC: Ka mo kouri pou—— JL: So spèrit la! YC: (…) kote en nonm, mo pa kou——mo pa kouri kote en nonm an la tè, mo kouri kote Bondjeu mo kònen sa Bondjeu fe (…). JL: Uhuh, YEH. YC: Ka mo monde li pou, pou don mon, uh, la lijyon e lès mo, pran mo SIN, ote mo SIN—— TK: Komon vou di sa an kreyòl? YC: TAKE MY (SIN) AWAY FROM ME. JL: To pèche, to pèche, san an kreyòl. YC: I ASK GOD (…) TAKE MY SINS AWAY FROM ME, I’LL SERVE YOU ALL MY DAYS!

JL: YOU HEAR WHAT HE SAY? YC: M a sèrvi tou mo jou! E mo gen sèrvi li tou mo jou! O LORD HAVE MERCY! JL: Y., se sa 1 ole to di li sa an kreyòl. YC: Aben me e di li, me, me e di li—— JL: Sa min li è s——sèr—— TK: Kreyòl e meriken (…) JL: e mer——wè, uhuh, YEH. YC: Mo di li mo sèrvi li, m a sèrvi li tou mo jou! Pase ina pa MISTAKE la! JL: Huhuh! TK: Kòmon vou pele plas aou Bondjè ye? [Laughs.] JL: Paradi. TK: Ahh! YC: Ye, pel li paradi. JL: Paradi, paradi. YC: (Paskè) mo janmen wa plas-la, mo janmen wa Bondjè. JL: Nou pa konnen men nou lir pou li. YC: Men, mo janmen wa li, men mo, mo, mo JL: Nou konne ena enn. YC: Mo mo krwa, mo krwa dan——

JL: Nou Labib di nouzòt sa. (…) Labib di nouzòt sa. … Catholics and Baptists TK: (…) kouri legliz katolik … JL: OH YEH! Nou va kote legliz katolik! YC: (Katolik anvon mo) te bæbtis. Men mo stil trouv sa te pa ase fòr pou mon. … YC: Wè, men mo kouri kote li pou en REASON. Mo JOIN katolik pou en REASON, paske, (…), vye mounn-ye, se pa kite ye piti JOIN bæbtis paske ye te dons pa. JL: Uhuh. YC: E nou te lenm donse! JL: Uhuh. YC: Sa-fe mo di ‘M a pran katolik paskeu m ole donse.’ JL: Uhuh. YC: E la, don la vi, kè-ki-chò (CHANGIN’). JL: Uhuh. YC: (…) apre mo marye se SOMETHING ELSE, sé te en lòt lavi to gen aprann kan to marye. JL: Wè, THAT’S RIGHT. YC: Se kè-ki-chò, se kè-ki-chò to gen pou apronn pou to-menm. …

YC: La mo kantinu [k tinỹ], mo kantinu wa kèk lòt zafè. Mo kantinu wa, mo kouri kote katolik, pær-la ka mo vini pou ontre, (la) mo te (den en) lachez mo vini pou asi on la chez la i di mo, ‘To pa ka (asi an-o l).’ JL: Mhm. YC: ALL RIGHT, (sa-fe) si mo te pa ka asi an-o la mo te pa, mo te pa ne pou èt katolik. JL: To te pa sipoze katolik. Mhm. YC: A, mo uch ne pou èt bæbtis, (mo mo) se en BAPTIST (ALL OVER). TK: [Indicating that he hasn’t understood.] JL: Li di li te pa, li te pa ne pou èt en katolik. TK: AH! OKAY. … JL: Li te ne pou èt en bæbtis. YC: Mo te katolik, ka mo kouri kote——mo wa sa dan la nwit. Mo rève sa! JL: Li wa so tr——dan so dòrmi. YC: Mo kouri kote katolik (pèr-la pa aksèpte). JL: YEH. … JL: Wè. Spèrit, spèrit Bondjè mantre li sa. YC: Mo chanje mo nide. Sa-fe mo te (… gen pran), la mo kòmonse wa bæbtis astè. Mo wa bæbtis astè. …

TK: E kofè pret-la pa aksèpte? JL: Men li pa konnen paskè Bondyè te——ve——ve pa li èt en katolik! YC: [Inaudible because of JL] JL: En katolik, te pa sipoze pou et en katolik, sa li te, tournen li pou et en bæbtis. TK: Vou di vou pa ka asi on la chez (…)?! JL: Uhuh, wè. N: SHE DREAMED THAT. JL: Se dan so, dan—— YC: I DREAMED THAT. TK: [Finally understanding.] A! Vou reve sa! A! JL: Dan so, dan so, dan so TRAVELIN.’ YC: THAT’S RIGHT. JL: Mhm, wè. YC: THAT’S RIGHT. TK: HUH. YC: E mo monde Bondjeu (ki-chòz…) JL: Mhm, YEH. YC: sa-fe mo tro, mo tro JL: SHE’S A SPIRITUAL WOMAN NOW.

YC: mo tro TANGLE UP. JL: Uhuh, YEH. YC: I’M TOO TANGLED UP FOR, FOR, FOR ME TO GET UNTANGLED. … Old Age and Good Health YC: Me e viv lanton dan pei-sa-la. TK: Wé. JL: Mè wè! E wè. YC: Huh! E mo son mo-mèm byen. Mo pa gro, mo pa, mo pa JL: Li te janmen en gro pèrsòn. YC: mo pa, mon pa gro gro gro JL: (…) pa gro. YC: men, I FEEL GOOD. AND I DON’T——AND I DON’T HAVE—— mo gen pa tro doulè non-plu. JL: Uhuh. YC: Mo ja rache tou mo dan-yen. TK: Wè? JL: Mhm. YC: THAT’S RIGHT. JL: Li gen FALSE TEETH. Mhm.

YC: E m——e, si mo te pa gen (PYORRHEA OF THE) GUM mo te petèt pa beuzòn rache. JL: Uhuh. Men, i te bije. YC: THAT’S RIGHT. JL: Mhm. YC: E pèrsòn fe pa mo aryen. JL: Mhm. YC: Mo piti-ye p ole mo rèste mo tou-sel. TK: Me sa se bon. JL: Mhm, pèrsòn trakas pa li. YC: Mo di ye, mo di ye, tan ki mo san mo-menm byen, mo pa malad, mo di ye, mo gen rèste mo tou-sel. JL: Mhm. YC: E mo di, si mo vini malad, ye pe e gen traka e mon, pran mon, kour e mon. Si se dan OLD FOLKS HOME, kour e mon SOMEWHERE. JL: Uhuh. YC: Mo pa ka rèste la mo tou-sel. … TK: E, ekan vou mari mouri? YC: Mo mari mouri dan SEVENTY-, [hesitates] ONE, NINETEEN SEVENTY-ONE. E mo sonyè li osi. TK: Mhm. Li te malad?

YC: Wè li te malad JL: Wè li te malad, te gen en STROKE. YC: li rèste, li rèste si senmenn dan lopital e mo rèste si senmen-ye andan-la. JL: Uhuh, wè. YUP. TK: Li sè te en Kreyòl? YC: Wi sè te, wi JL: O wè. YC: sè te en STOMP DOWN Kreyòl. JL: STOMP DOWN Kreyòl. YC: (Mè) sè te en bon nonm, do. JL: Ten en bon nonm e li te gen di sa dan kreyòl. Wè. YC: A! Sè ten en bon nonm astè, mo mon——, mo, mo TK: Se bon pou—— YC: monkè kè-ki-chò men, sèt——li s te ki-chò Bondjeu (sa-fe), Bondjé pran li. JL: Wé, THAT’S TRUE. Uhuh, wé. YC: E mo pe e marye ave en lòt. … Meat Pies and Leavened Bread TK: E vou te konne fe pate?

YC: Wé. JL: Mhm. TK: Me kòmon vou fe sa? YC: Aben mo fe mo lapat dipen epi mo pran mo lavyann, mo moule mo lavyann epi mo, mo pase li e, (…) en pe, e la mo mèt li ant e la mo, BAKE li. Mo fou(re) li dan STOVE. TK: Kòmon vou fe la pat? Uh, wi, la, la pat dipen? Kòmon vou fe sa? YC: Aben, mo, mo mèt mo iskek, mo mèt mo dolo, mo mèt mo disel, e la mo pran mo farin mo, mo fe li vini di e mo farin. TK: E, e, e, e iskek, vou te, vou te konne ajét ou vou te konne fe sa voumenm? YC: Aben, mo, mo te konnen achte iskek. Men mo te kònnen kòmon pou fe iskek. To pran iskek e mèt li e to farin mai e to dolo to ka fe iskek. … Catholics and Baptists Again YC: E si se kouri en bal, JL: Wè YC: momon-la te gen vini. JL: THAT’S RIGHT. Monmon te gen CHAPERON. YC: Monmon te gen vini li osit. TK: E vou te kone kouri bal? YC: OH LORD!

JL: Wè! O wè! … [The discussion returns to the topic of dancing and religion. I ask about Catholics and dancing.] JL: Wè ye dans. Se bæbtis ki dans pa. YC: Wè, me se pou sa mo pran katolik se paski bæbtis te, se—— JL: Baebtis dans pa. TK: A, e vou t ole, vou te ole danse! JL: Li t ole dans——li t ole dans—— YC: Mo t ole danse, men si m——si—— JL: (men kan li te) katolik YC: si mo se kou pran bæbtis, mo se (pa ka) danse. JL: li te pa ka donse. TK: Aaa! Se pou sa vou te rès katolik (…) YC: E, e la, e la JL: Wè, wè. YC: se pou sa mo kou pran katolik an prenmyen. … YC: La ka, la ka mo marye aben, mo stil se pa ka donse kòm mo t ole pas(k)eu mon mari se p——mo se ich ka donse e li, mo se pa ka ave lezòt. … YC: Sa-fe THE BEST OF ALL, se myè mo te kou pran mo, se myè mo te kou pran la lijyon bæbtis.

JL: Bæbtis. YC: Se sa mo t ole ANYWAY. TK: Li li te bæbtis ou li te katolik. YC: Li te bæbtis. JL: Bæbtis. YC: Li BAPTIZE. TK: Vou, vou, vou te marye dan ki legliz? JL: Katolik, li marye katolik. YC: Laba, katolik, katolik, an——an—— TK: Legliz katolik? Li te katolik anvon ou li te bæbtis anvon vou marye? YC: Li te, li te, li te TK: Li toujou bæbtis? YC: Non, li te katolik. Paseu li te batize katolik. JL: Uhuh. Batize katolik. … YC: E la li te, aben, par marye, aben nou marye, aben mo di li, "To pa ka rèste konm sa." JL: Uhuh. YC: Sa-fe li te gen kouri BAPTIZE konm mon. JL: YEH, uhuh, YEH.

YC: Sa-fe li kouri BAPTIZE. … Dances and Music TK: Aou vou te konne kouri bal? Ki kote? YC: Kote ROSENWAL. JL: Men wè. YC: (Men) Kote, TK: Ye te gen bal kote ROSENWAL? YC: kote, kote SAINT JOSEPH on, dan, andan Chmen Nèf. TK: E sè te kan ROSENWAL sèt——te on Lil, se sa? YC: Wè. JL: Uhuh. TK: E ye te gen bal laba? JL: Wi, te kòne fe bal. YC: A wè t ena bal, nou, nou te va, mwen e mo sè. JL: Ye te konnen fe bal dan la kou. YC: Wè(…) JL: Kote la mezon. (…) YC: O mo te lenm bal. Mo te lenm bal. JL: Nou te konnen fe la kou——uh, bal kote le mezon.

YC: (Men) la dèpi, dèpi mo BAPTIZE mo janmen danse! … YC: O mo te p ole danse, mo di mo te ja danse ase kan mo te gen en lot lalijyon-la, e mo di lalijyon-sa-a sè te pa pou danse mo ich pa donse, mo te pa, (e dèn …) mo te pa ka danse. … TK: Sa ye te konne fe pou bal, dan bal, komon sè te? YC: Jwe la muzik e (…) donse. TK: Ki kalite lamizik? YC: O, mo te konnen danse (…) JL: JAZZ MUSIC. YC: JAZZ MUSIC e (te), AW SHUCK! Mo te, mo te va kote bal le sonmdi, le dimonch, e ye te konnen (…) lendi. JL: Mhm! YC: O mon s tè en gro dansè! TK: E ye te konnen fe—— YC: Dan le——dan legliz kan nou gen, kan nou gen nou lames, mon sen en [< se en] gro, (SHOUT FOR JOY) osi. Mo, mo mont on planche-le e mo SHOUT. JL: Mhm. TK: Astèr-la? JL: Wè, mhm. YC: O wè! E mo ka SHOUT osi.

JL: Mhm, wè. TK: (…) YC: Ha! THAT’S RIGHT. [Laughs.] TK: Mo krwa vou! [Laughs.] JL: Wè, se vre! YC: Se vre sa me e di li! JL: Se vre sa le e di vou! YC: Se vre. … Benevolent Societies TK: Vou ja tande pale pou en zafè "fe sosyete"? JL: La sosyète? (…) YC: La sosyète? (Men) sosyète, ben wè! … YC: (Gen) la sosyete, sen en [< se en] lasosyete. JL: Nou andan la sosyete. Mhm. TK: Se, se ki zafè? JL: Se kan to, se kan to po——to tanm malad. YC: E ka to mouri. JL: E kan to mouri, e to lasosyete se li ki, k antær twa, la, li gen larjan pou antère twa. …

YC?: Se en BENEVOLENT SOCIETY. TK: E, ènave, ènave plen sosyete isi, ou … JL: Wè, nou stil gen la sosyète. Nou stil gen plen la sosyete. Nou gen enn ki pel SONS AND DAUGHTER, nou gen enn ki pel YOUNG MAN. E nou gen enn to pel YOUNG VIDALIA, e nou gen enn to pel, uh—— TK: E tou-moun ye, ye, ye pey en pè larjan (…) JL: Wè nou gen peyè. YC: Wè. TK: (…) mouri, kan li malad. … JL: Ye dòn ye doktè e medikòmon. TK: E se jis moun nwa ki gen sa o èna, moun blan-ye gen sosyete osi? JL: Aben mo pa konnen, ina, m pa konnen, uh, bokou blan ki gen sa. TK: Se, se jis en zafè (nwar). JL: Se jus zafèr nwar gen, uhuh, wè. Moun nwar, yeh. YC: Mhm. JL: Paske ye gen la, blan-ye gen lasirons. TK: Mhm. JL: Ye gen lasirons. Uhuh. … A Hard Worker

TK: [To YC] E vou te konne travay dan dezè? YC: Wè. Mo pa travay tou sa, apre mo mariye pase mo mari te, gro travayan. TK: Li se gro travayan? YC: Sè tè en gro travayan. JL: O wè. YC: Mo ramase koton, mo piyoche. JL: Mhm. YC: Mè mo pa, mo pa kase mai e mo pa koupe dikonn. JL: Koupe dikonn o aryen konm sa. … TK: Vou te koup pa? JL: Non. YC: (Mo pròch) pa ka koupe. JL: Hmhm non. TK: Vou te tro piti? YC: Mo kwa sè te tro du. JL: Uhuh [laughs]. So mari te veu pa li koupe dikann. TK: Vou te gen en bon mari (…). JL: Li te gen en bon mari, wi, te gen en bon mari. YC: (…) travay, i te travay, i te travay, i te pa konnen so lafòs.

JL: O l te konnen travay, so mari, te gen en bon mari. TK: O. E, vou, vou, vou kòne sa sa min en kolonm? JL: Kolonm sen en nonm ki—— YC: Sen en BOSS MAN. JL: Se en, sen en nonm ki on en chval e (OVER) de travayon. YC: (…) THAT’S RIGHT. TK: A, li on en chèval? … JL: Sa ye pel en kolòm. Pou di ye sa to po [< te pou?] fe, sa t(e) pa po fe. Mhm. TK: E sa vou te konne fe kote la mezon pou travay. Travay vou te kone fe dan la mezon? YC: Tou mo nouvraj, lave, kwi. A, mo mari te monj plen monje astè! (Li) te toujou gen gen monje-la uh, uh, READY. JL: Kwi. YC: Monje te gen èt kwi paseu i te travay byen men li te JL: te lenm so monje. YC: monj so monje. TK: Men en gro travayan, li, li, li, li beuzon en gro (…) JL: En gro MEAL, en gro monjè. YC: O wè, THAT’S RIGHT, THAT’S RIGHT. E nou i trwa piti. TK: Ki kalite zafè vou te kòne fe pou manje?

YC: Aben! Kwi zariko, kwi la vyonn. E tou kalite ki-chò kòm se. Dan s tan-sa nou te konnen tchwe kochon. JL: Gòmbo fevi, e—— YC: Gonbo fèvi, nou se fe gonmbo e n se fe la (…) JL: Defev, kwi defev. YC: e tou kalite monje. JL: Nou te fe tou sa-la, e kwi la moutad. YC: Nou te konnen kwi astè! … YC: YEH. TIME BACK sè te en ROUGH TIME. JL: Mhm, o wè. YC: La se bon astè, se mye ke, mye ke tan BACK. JL: Wè, se bon, se mye ke se te. TK: Vou kwa? YC: Wè. JL: Wè, se myè d en kote. YC: Den en kote se myeu. TK: Den en kote. YC: Wè,wè. JL: Kan, kan no te BACK YONDER la, en ki-chò nou te pa g——nou dò——nave pa DOPE don ton-sa-la. Nou te pa don donje kòm nou ye astèr-la.

TK: Wè. E vouzòt, vouzòt te fe en bon lavi (…) JL: Te fe en bon lavi, wè YC: Wè, wè, o wè. JL: te fen en [< fe en] bon lavi on Lil. O wè. Nou te elev tou kalite kicho, kochon, poul, kana, zwa, tou-ki-chò pou nou monje. … YC: Nou elev tou sa. JL: Mhm, wè. YEH. Te gen enn vach pou (te) trèr pou gen duleu [sic]. YC: Wè. JL: Mhm, wè. … Translation of "School and Work" YC: Old people in the past, they didn’t like school. JL: No, they didn’t believe too much in school. YC: They sent their children to school, I went to school (when) I was fourteen. TK: When you started going to school? JL: Yes. YC: When I started, I learned a little. JL: Yes, and she learned a little (…). YC: I learned a good bit.

JL: Yes, yes. YC: Thank God for that. JL: That’s right. (…) began to go to school. YC: That’s right. TK: How many years did you go to school? YC: Oh, well in a year I would catch sometimes just one day! In a month I would catch sometimes (four), the old folks said you had to go do something else. JL: (Go to) the field. YC: You had to go. JL: (Go) to the field, you had (go to) the field. YC: At times I had to steal my time off to run to go to——I liked to go to school. TK: You liked it? YC: Oh yes, I liked to go to school. I learned a little, too. JL: Yeh. TK: Oh, but you didn’t have time to do that, much time to do that? To go to school? JL: No (she didn’t have time to go to school she) had to work in the field. (…) YC: No, I didn’t go much. TK: [In response to JL] For yourselves, or for other people, or for your family or for …

JL: For her family and for other people. YC: Well, there were some old folks, I don’t know, they didn’t like for their children to go to school. JL: That’s right. They (just didn’t like it) they didn’t know better (…), they didn’t know anything about school. YC: They just didn’t like, they just didn’t know better (than that they) didn’t like (them to go) to school. "My daughter and my son, and the little boys together, I don’t want them to go to school." JL: Yeh. YC: So, there are some of us, we were nine, children my mother had. Well, (…) I’m the one who learned more than anyone. (Because I’m the one who …) TK: Are you the oldest? YC: No, I’m not the (oldest), I’m the fourth. TK: Fourth. And—— YC: Let me see, now (…). I’m the fourth of nine. … Translation of "Life in Days Gone By" TK: And, you were born and raised on the Island, is that right? YC: Yes, in Ventress, on the Island. JL: In Ventress on the Island. TK: Were you neighbors? YC: No, not neighbors.

TK: Not neighbors? JL: We were neighbors after she married my first cousin. We were neighbors. YC: I was (her) neighbor when I was—— JL: Hold that, Y. [handing her the microphone]. YC: And, (…) JL: Put it near your mouth. TK: Like this. JL: Put it like this. YC: [Who has been speaking inaudibly for the last few moments] Oh, we were good (friends?). JL: We were neighbors after she married my first cousin. YC: Yes. JL: And then we were neighbors, we raised all our children together like brothers and sisters. TK: It’s good like that. YC?: And she and I we——we got——we get along like sister and brother, like two sisters. JL: Yes. We never had a word between us. Always got along well. TK: It’s good to live like that. JL: Together. Yes.

TK: And that was always in Ventress? … YC?: Yes, all in Ventress, yes. (All) in Ventress, yes. JL: Then we moved to New Roads, and we don’t visit often because we don’t have transportation [laughs]. But when we can, we meet each other! Yes. TK: Vou frekant pa, that means ‘visit,’ or … JL: No, if (she) wants to visit, we can’t visit like we used to because we’re not close like we used to be. … JL: [To YC] Put it up to your mouth. YC: Oh! Oh! JL: To your, to your—— YC: Well I’m going, [louder, assertively], now I’m going to speak for myself! JL: Yes, uhuh, yes! YC: I’m going to speak for myself (about) what it was back yonder! JL: Tha——yes, that’s right! That’s what he came for! TK: Yes(…). YC: Time (when) in the past, back yonder. JL: Uhuh! TK: How was it? YC: I see where I come from, I just can’t see where I’m going.

JL: Uhuh! YC: I see where I come from. JL: That’s right, we know—— YC: But it’s good when you know where you come from! JL: That’s right. YC: If you see where you come from, you’ll know where you’re going when you (go to …) JL: That’s——when you arrive to go there, that’s right. YC: (… When I was growing up), in my life, it was tough! JL: That’s what I told him. YC: It was tough! JL: It was really tough! YC: I saw something, JL: It was really (tough). YC: I saw something, Lord, what I——and I’ll never forget it! JL: Hmhm. YC: I’ll never forget what I saw. JL: Oh no! YC: And how times were and everything. JL: Yes, yes.

YC: They just talk——well, there are some who say it’s the country that’s not good. JL: Mhm. YC: There are some who say it’s the country! But I don’t think it’s the country! JL: It’s not the country, it’s people, YC: It’s people! It’s people! JL: it’s the people who are in the country, who are making the trouble. YC: Because that’s not the way people were, in the past. JL: Huhuh. YC: Now, you (may) be sick, they won’t come to see you now. JL: They won’t even come to see you. YC: Now when——in the past, huh! old——the people would go visit people, and if they didn’t have enough clothes to wear, they would give them their own to put on! JL: That’s right, that’s right. YC: And when the old——the people would go to work, they would take their children, they would leave (them) with the other neighbor who didn’t go to work. JL: Uhuh. YC: And they would take good care of them. JL: That’s right.

YC: But today there’s no way to do that. JL: Huhuh. YC: You can’t touch someone’s child today! They don’t want you to touch them because (you’ll get into?) trouble. JL: Yes. YC: But in the old days that’s not how it was. JL: Hmhm. YC: Now, her husband’s mother JL: Mhm! YC: sort of raised us because our mother had to work. In Mr. G’s yard.10 JL: In the white folks’ yard. YC: In the white folks’ yard JL: (…) other whites YC: she had to work JL: work YC: and she didn’t pay rent. JL: That’s right. YC: But what they had to do, they had to work in the yard… and they would give them an old house to live in. JL: Yes. I told you that yesterday, didn’t I?

YC: I grew up rough [i.e., in rough times?]. JL: Rough! YC: That’s why I can’t do wrong. JL: Hmhm! YC: If I wanted to do——I don’t know what it is to do wrong! JL: We don’t know what it is to treat people badly. YC: I don’t know, I don’t know what that is. JL: We don’t know how to begin to do that. YC: And really now, I think white people were better in the past than now. JL: Mhm, yes. YC: Oh yes! Because they didn’t do (…)-Me, when I was born, my mother worked in TP’s yard. And when she would have a baby, the white man’s wife11 would have a baby, JL: Mhm. YC: she would nurse the wife’s baby JL: Mhm. YC: and then her own. She would give it her own breast. JL: Breast, uhuh, yeh. … JL: That’s what they call donn tète. Dòn piti-la tète. …

YC: My niece came to get me (to take me) to a school. The school right there in New Roads. For me to come speak Creole to the people, what we, what people in the old days went through. JL: Went through, how they raised their children, how they (…). YC: And what they——that’s right, how they would buy clothes for them. JL: Mhm. YC: Well, there was a wagon that would pass. JL: Mhm. YC: The material was five cents a yard. JL: Five cents a yard for material. YC: Five cents a yard. And our mother would go buy from the wagon, she bought a big block. And she would come with her scissors and her needle, and she would make us little dresses to wear. And our shoes, we didn’t all have shoes. JL: Mhm. YC: When my father got a pair of tennis shoes for my brother, fifty cents, JL: Mhm. YC: when he came (back) and it was too small, he gave it to me. JL: Mhm. YC: Then, brother had to go without. JL: [Laughs.]

YC: That’s righ——that’s what I—— JL: That’s right, yeh! YC: That’s what I know! JL: That’s right! YC: That’s what I know, what I, JL: That’s right, uhuh, yes. YC: that’s what I know. JL: That’s right. YC: And, they asked me to sing (in) Creole. JL: Mhm. YC: To sing (in) Creole. JL: (…) in Creole. TK: Yes? JL: Uhuh. YC: That’s right. JL: She knows how to sing a little (in) Creole. YC: I sing (in) Creole. TK: Can you sing for me? YC: They tell, they tell—— JL: Mhm, yes, she can.

YC: they tell, they tell how they used to carry dead people. When the person would die, they would go dress him, or they would dress him at the house and they would wake him—— TK: Do you have a word in Creole, ‘dress’ him? JL: Yes, chanje li. YC: Chanje li. TK: Chanje li. YC: Chanje li, yes. JL: Dress him (…), bathe him and dress him, to lay him out. YC: That’s right. JL: Do you know what they call èkspoze?. YC: Yes. TK: Is that also what you say in Creole? JL: Uhuh, èkspoze. YC: Yes, that’s right, poze li, that’s right. JL: èkspoze, that’s——lay him out. èkspoze. YC: And then they would wake them. … TK: [To YC] And, what else did you see? You told me you saw a lot of things when you were younger. YC: (I) saw white people beat black people. JL: Colored people——blacks, that’s right, (they) used to hit us.

YC: I’ve seen that. TK: Yes. JL: Yeh, (they) used to hit our old folks, that was in the time of slavery. YC: (At) the house, my mother used to work in the white people’s yard. JL: Beat them. YC: And, JL: Beat the children. … Translation of "Sharecropping" TK: You didn’t have your own land? YC: No. TK: (You) always JL: Oh no! TK: rented the land (you worked on). JL: (…) yes, yes. YC: (…) TK: (Did you) pay rent? JL: Yes, (we) paid rent, worked for half (or) worked for a fourth. YC: [Speaking at same time as JL but completely inaudible until JL pauses] At first, when we first came, we had to wor——They would

give us an old house to live in (with?) our mother and our father. JL: Yes, uhuh. YC: But, they had to work, they went JL: They had to work for them for the—— YC: in the field, (when) they didn’t pay rent. JL: Didn’t pay rent. YC: Then (they) had to work for them. JL: Rent, gave them the house for working for them, for working for them. YC: Yes. And when my mother’s people would work in their yard they didn’t pay them. JL: No. YC: They would give them, JL: Had to work for nothing. YC: they would give them a little food now and then. JL: Uhuh. YC: Or when they would peel pears, they would give them the cores to take home and the children were only too happy JL: Only too happy to—— YC: to eat (the pieces on them). JL: That’s right, that’s right. (The pieces on them.) They had to peel the pears, they had to cut the meat on the pear, the core.

YC: Yes. JL: They would give it to them. And then they would bring them to us and that’s what we had to eat. The core of the pear. YC: That’s right. TK: Depwa is … JL: Depwa is ‘pear.’ YC: Pears. TK: Pears, oh. YC: (It) was tough. JL: Yeh. TK: But (why) did you tell me, a minute ago you told me, (you) thought people, white people, were worse now than before, they were better before? JL: Well, that—— TK: And now you tell me all (…) in the past. JL: No, that’s way back in the past she’s talking (about).… Now, now they’re not as bad as it was back yonder. TK: (You think so.) JL: No, they’re not as bad, because, we have more freedom than we had back then. When we work they pay, they have to pay us. TK: Mhm, mhm. JL: (…) And, we can buy land, we can buy houses, and things like that. We weren’t able to do that back then.

YC: Oh no. … TK: Whew! Times were hard? [YC and TK appear to be having a conversation on the side, but it’s completely inaudible.] JL: Yes! Very hard. We sometimes didn’t have food to eat. Clothes to put on our children (…). They walked barefoot. TK: Ni-pye you say? JL: Didn’t have shoes. That——barefoot. Ni-pye is when you don’t have shoes on your feet. YC: That’s right. JL: That’s ni-pye. TK: And did you have to walk far to go into the fields, wor——in the field, to work? JL: Oh yes, we would go—— TK: Was it far, or—— JL: Far! Far! We had some that were close and we had some that were far, but we went in a wagon. With our mules. And went in a wagon, went far in the back. (You) see they had the——cotton planted in front and corn going way back into the field. And we had to go in the wagon. Had to (…) lakes, in the wagon to go to the other side. … YC: Oh we were sometimes so cold. … YC: We borrowed fire from each other.

JL: Yes—— YC: (We) didn’t have any! JL: Didn’t have m——couldn’t buy matches! We borrowed fire. YC: (…) my second baby, my husband didn’t have more than a nickel in his pocket. And he found it outside. JL: Yes [laughs]. YC: Outside! JL: Five cents and five eggs, eh Y.? [Laughs.] YC: (… five cents.) Eggs were I think thirty cents a dozen, and we could——but my hens were laying at that time. JL: Uhuh. … Translation of "Belief in God" JL: There’s a God! Do you believe in God? YC: There’s a God (…). JL: Do you believe in God? TK: (…) I believe that. I don’t know where! [Laughs.] JL: But… we don’t know. YC: (… don’t know where) I never saw him. JL: It’s not our business where he is! But he’s there! YC: When I went to——

JL: His spirit is there! YC: (…) to a man, I didn’t go—— I didn’t go to a man on the earth, I went to God, I know what God does (…). JL: Uhuh, yeh. YC: When I asked him to give me religion and let me, take my sin, take away my sin—— TK: How do you say that in Creole? YC: Take my (sin) away from me. JL: To peche, to peche, that’s in Creole. YC: I asked God (…) take my sins away from me, I’ll serve you all my days! JL: Did you hear what he said? YC: I’ll ser——I’ll serve (you) all my days! And I will serve him all my days! Oh, Lord have mercy! JL: Y., he wants you to tell him that in Creole. YC: Well I’m saying it, I’m saying it—— JL: That means she’ll ser—— TK: Creole and English (…) JL: And Eng——yes, uhuh, yeh. YC: I told him I’d serve him, I’ll serve him all my days! Because there’s no mistake there! JL: Huhuh!

TK: What do you call the place where God is? [Laughs.] JL: Paradi. TK: Ahh! YC: They call it paradi. JL: Paradi, paradi. YC: (Because) I’ve never seen the place, I’ve never seen God. JL: We don’t know but we’ve read about him. YC: But, I’ve never seen him, but I, I JL: We know there is one. YC: I believe, I believe in—— JL: Our Bible tells us that. (…) The Bible tells us that. Translation of "Catholics and Baptists" TK: (You don’t) go to the Catholic church? … JL: Oh yeh! We go to the Catholic church! YC: (I was Catholic before I) was Baptist. But I still find it wasn’t strong enough for me. … YC: Yes, but I went to it for a reason. I joined the Catholic church for a reason, because, (…), the old folks wouldn’t let their children join the Baptist church because they didn’t dance. JL: Uhuh.

YC: And we liked to dance! JL: Uhuh. YC: So I said, "I’ll take the Catholic church because I want to dance." JL: Uhuh. YC: And then, in life, something (was changing). JL: Uhuh. YC: (…) after I got married it was something else, it was another life you have to learn when you’re married. JL: Yes, that’s right. YC: That’s something you have to learn for yourself. … YC: Then I continued to see something else. I continued to see, I went to the Catholic church, the Father, when I came to go in, I was (in a) chair, I came to sit down on the chair, then he told me, "You can’t (sit there)." JL: Mhm. YC: All right, (so) if I couldn’t sit there I wasn’t born to be Catholic. JL: You weren’t meant to be Catholic. Mhm. YC: I was just born to be Baptist, I’m a Baptist (all over). TK: [Indicating that he hasn’t understood.] JL: She said she wasn’t born to be Catholic. TK: Ah! Okay. …

JL: She was born to be a Baptist. YC: I was Catholic, when I went to——I saw that in the night. I dreamed that! JL: She saw her——in her sleep. YC: I went to the Catholic church (the Father didn’t accept me). JL: Yeh. … JL: Yes. The spirit, the spirit of God showed her that. YC: I changed my mind. So I was (…), now I’ve begun to see (?) the Baptist church. I see the Baptist church now. … TK: And why didn’t the priest accept (you)? JL: Well she doesn’t know because God didn’t want her to be a Catholic! YC: [Inaudible because of JL.] JL: A Catholic, (she) wasn’t meant to be a Catholic, she converted to become a Baptist. TK: You say you couldn’t sit on the chair (…)?! JL: Uhuh, yes. N: She dreamed that. JL: It was in her, in—— YC: I dreamed that. TK: [Finally understanding.] Ah! You dreamed that! Ah!

JL: In her, in her travelling. YC: That’s right. JL: Mhm, yes. YC: That’s right. TK: Huh. YC: And I asked God (something …) JL: Mhm, yeh. YC: so I’m too, I’m too JL: She’s a spiritual woman now. YC: I’m too tangled up. JL: Uhuh, yeh. YC: I’m too tangled up for me to get untangled. … Translation of "Old Age and Good Health" YC: I’ve been living a long time in this land. TK: Yes. JL: Oh yes! Oh yes. YC: Huh! And I feel good. I’m not big, JL: She was never a big person. YC: I’m not real big JL: (…) not big.

YC: but, I feel good. And I don’t have——I don’t have too much pain, either. JL: Uhuh. YC: I’ve already had all my teeth pulled. TK: Yes? JL: Mhm. YC: That’s right. JL: She has false teeth. Mhm. YC: And if I didn’t have (pyorrhea of the) gum I might not have had to have them pulled. JL: Uhuh. But she had to. YC: That’s right. JL: Mhm. YC: And no one does me any harm (lit., no one does me anything). JL: Mhm. YC: My children don’t want me to live alone. TK: Well that’s good. JL: Mhm, no one bothers her. YC: I tell them, I tell them, as long as I feel well, I’m not sick, I tell them, I’m going to live alone. JL: Mhm.

YC: And I say, if I get sick, they won’t have any trouble with me, take me, go with me. Even if it’s in an old folks home, take me somewhere. JL: Uhuh. YC: I can’t stay here alone. … TK: And when did your husband die? YC: My husband died in seventy-one, nineteen seventy-one. And I took care of him, too. TK: Mhm. Was he sick? YC: Yes, he was sick JL: Yes, he was sick, he had a stroke. YC: he stayed six weeks in the hospital and I stayed the six weeks in there. JL: Uhuh, yes. Yup. TK: Was he a Creole? YC: Yes, he was, yes JL: Oh yes. YC: he was a stomp down Creole. JL: Stomp down Creole. YC: (But) he was a good man, though. JL: He was a good man and (he?) would say it in Creole. Yes.

YC: Ah! He was a good man, now, I—— TK: It’s good to—— YC: missed something but it——he (was a creature of God, so) God took him. JL: Yes, that’s true. Uhuh, yes. YC: And I won’t marry another. … Translation of "Meat Pies and Leavened Bread" TK: And did you use to make meat pies? YC: Yes. JL: Mhm. TK: How do you make that? YC: Well I make my bread dough and I take my meat, I grind my meat and I pass it, (…) a little, and then I put it in between and then I bake it. I put it in the stove. TK: How do you make the dough? Yes, the bread dough? How do you make that? YC: Well, I put in my yeast, I put in my water, I put in my salt, and then I take my flour, I thicken it [lit., make it get hard] with my flour. TK: And yeast, did you use to buy (it) or did you use to make it yourself? YC: Well, I used to buy yeast. But I knew how to make yeast. You take yeast and you put it with your corn flour and your water, you can make yeast. …

Translation of "Catholics and Baptists Again" YC: And if we would go to a dance, JL: Yes. YC: Mother had to come. JL: That’s right. Mother had to chaperon. YC: Mother had to come, too. TK: And did you use to go to dances? YC: Oh Lord! JL: Yes! Oh yes! … [The discussion returns to the topic of dancing and religion. I ask about Catholics and dancing.] JL: Yes, they dance. It’s the Baptists who don’t dance. YC: Yes, that’s why I took the Catholic religion, because Baptists—— JL: Baptists don’t dance. TK: Ah, and you wanted to dance! JL: She wanted to dance——she wanted to dance YC: I wanted to dance, but if I—— JL: (But when she was) Catholic YC: if I went to take the Baptist religion, I couldn’t dance. JL: she couldn’t dance.

TK: Ah! That’s why you remained Catholic (…) YC: And then, and then JL: Yes, yes. YC: that’s why I went to take the Catholic religion at first. … YC: Then, when I got married, well, I still wouldn’t be able to dance like I wanted to because my husband——I would just be able to dance with him, I wouldn’t be able to dance with the others. … YC: So the best of all, it would be better if I went to take the Baptist religion. JL: Baptist. YC: That’s what I wanted anyway. TK: Was he Baptist or Catholic? YC: He was Baptist. JL: Baptist. YC: He was baptized. TK: What church were you married in? JL: Catholic, she was married Catholic. YC: Over there, Catholic, Catholic—— TK: The Catholic church? Was he Catholic before or was he Baptist before you were married? YC: He was, he was

TK: Was he always Baptist? YC: No, he was Catholic. Because he was baptized Catholic. JL: Uhuh. Baptized Catholic. … YC: And then he, well, we got married, well I told him, "You can’t stay like that." JL: Uhuh. YC: So he had to go be baptized like me. JL: Yeh, uhuh, yeh. YC: So he went to be baptized. Translation of "Dances and Music" TK: Where did you use to go to dances? Where? YC: At Rosenwald (school). JL: Well yes. YC: (Or) at, TK: They had dances at Rosenwald? YC: at St. loseph in New Roads. TK: And was that when Rosenwald was on the Island, is that right? YC: Yes. JL: Uhuh. TK: And they had dances there?

JL: Yes, they used to have dances. YC: Oh yes, there were dances. We used to go, my sister and I. JL: They used to have dances in the yard. YC: Yes(…) JL: At the house. (…) YC: Oh I liked dances. I liked dances. JL: We used to have dances at the house. YC: (But) since I was baptized I’ve never danced! … YC: Oh I didn’t want to dance, I said I had already danced enough when I had another religion, and I said if this religion wasn’t for dancing I just wouldn’t dance, I couldn’t dance. … TK: What did they use to do at dances, how were they? YC: Play music and (…) dance. TK: What kind of music? YC: Oh, I used to dance (…) JL: Jazz music. YC: Jazz music and, aw shucks! I went to the dance on Saturday, on Sunday, and they used to (…) on Monday. JL: Mhm! YC: Oh I was a great dancer!

TK: And did they use to—— YC: In church when we have our service, I’m a great (shout for joy), too. I get on the floor and I shout. JL: Mhm. TK: Now? JL: Yes, mhm. YC: Oh yes! And I can shout, too. JL: Mhm, yes. TK: (…) YC: Ha! That’s right. [Laughs.] TK: I believe you! [Laughs.] JL: Yes, it’s true! YC: It’s true, what I’m telling him! JL: It’s true, what she’s telling you! YC: It’s true. … Translation of "Benevolent Societies" TK: Have you ever heard of something (called) fe sosyete? JL: La sosyète? YC: La sosyète?. Well sosyète, of course! …

YC: (We have) la sosyete, that’s a lasosyete. JL: We’re in la sosyete. Mhm. TK: What is it? JL: It’s when you-you get sick. YC: And when you die. JL: And when you die, and your lasosyete, that’s the one that buries you, it has money to bury you. … YC?: It’s a benevolent society. TK: And were there lots of societies here, or … JL: Yes, we still have societies. We still have lots of societies. We have one that’s called "Sons and Daughters," we have one that’s called "Young Men." And we have one you call "Young Vidalia," and we have one you call, uh—— TK: And everyone pays, they pay a little money (…) JL: Yes, we have to pay. YC: Yes. TK: (…) dies, when he’s sick … JL: They give them a doctor and medicine. TK: And is it just black people who have that or are there, do white people have it, too? JL: Well I don’t know, there are, I don’t know many whites who have that.

TK: That’s just something for blacks. JL: That’s just something blacks have, uhuh, yes. Black people, yeh. YC: Mhm. JL: Because they have, the whites have insurance. TK: Mhm. JL: They have insurance. Uhuh. Translation of "A Hard Worker" TK: [To YC] And did you use to work in the field? YC: Yes. I didn’t work all that much, after I got married because my husband was a hard (lit., big) worker. TK: He was a hard worker? YC: He was a hard worker. JL: Oh yes. YC: I picked cotton, I hoed. JL: Mhm. YC: But I didn’t, I didn’t pick corn and I didn’t cut sugar cane. JL: Cut sugar cane or anything like that. … TK: You didn’t cut (cane)? JL: No. YC: (I just about) didn’t cut (cane).

JL: Hmhm, no. TK: Were you too small? YC: I think it was too hard. JL: Uhuh [laughs]. Her husband didn’t want her to cut sugar cane. TK: You had a good husband (…). JL: She had a good husband, yes, had a good husband. YC: (He) worked, he worked, he worked, he didn’t know his own strength. JL: Oh he used to work, her husband, had a good husband. TK: Oh. And do you know what a kolonm means? JL: Kolonm that’s a man who—— YC: That’s a boss man. JL: That’s a man who’s on a horse and (over) the workers. YC: (…) that’s right. TK: Ah, he’s on a horse? … JL: That’s what they call a kolòm. To tell them what to do, what not to do. Mhm. TK: And what did you do in the house in the way of work? Work you did in the house? YC: All my housework, wash, cook. Ah, my husband ate a lot of food, now! (He) always had to have the meal ready.

JL: Cooked. YC: The meal had to be cooked because he worked well but he JL: Liked his food. YC: ate his food. TK: But a hard worker needs a big (…) JL: A big meal. YC: Oh yes, that’s right, that’s right. And we had three children. TK: What kind of things did you make for meals? YC: Well! Cooked beans, cooked meat. And all kinds of things like that. In those days we use to kill hogs. JL: Okra gumbo, and—— YC: Okra gumbo, we would make gumbo and we would make (…) JL: Beans, cook beans. YC: and all kinds of food. JL: We would make all that, and cook mustard. YC: We used to cook, now! … YC: Yeh. Time back was a rough time. JL: Mhm, oh yes. YC: It’s good now, it’s better than time back. JL: Yes, it’s good, it’s better than it was.

TK: You think so? YC: Yes. JL: Yes, it’s better in a way. YC: In a way it’s better. TK: In a way. YC: Yes, yes. JL: When we were back yonder, one thing we didn’t ha——there wasn’t dope in those days. We weren’t in danger like we are now. TK: Yes. And you led a good life (…) JL: Led a good life, yes, YC: Yes, yes, oh yes. JL: led a good life on the Island. Oh yes. We raised all kinds of things, hogs, chickens, ducks, geese, everything for us to eat. … YC: We raised all that. JL: Mhm, yes. Yeh. Had a cow to milk to have milk. YC: Yes. JL: Mhm, yes. …

7.8 Interview with ME This interview with ME, a Creole of color, took place on June 6, 1996, at her residence in a small town near False River that has long been home to many of the area’s Creoles. Born in 1921, ME was seventy-five at the time of the interview. Also present was ME’s husband, KE, who understands Creole but does not speak it fluently, and CS, a native of New Orleans whose father was born and raised in the same town as ME and whom ME knew well. Throughout the interview the term "Creole" as an ethnic label is used to refer to people like ME and CS, that is, people of mixed heritage who have for many generations formed a group distinct from both blacks and whites. Some of the topics ME speaks about in this interview include language use at home and in church, relations among blacks and Creoles, education for Creoles, music and dances, and the famous Creole picnic held annually to raise money for the Catholic Church. At the very end of the interview there is also a revealing discussion of the pronoun to, which ME considers to be Creole, versus vou, which she considers to be French. The last part of the interview also contains a short translation task in which I ask ME to translate a series of sentences from English into Creole. While the content of this portion of the interview is rather dry, it is of value because, like a similar passage in the interview with NF (7.6), it shows the reader by what method much of the material for the grammatical description was obtained. On the whole, ME’s speech in this interview is strikingly basilectal. Grammatical gender is not marked on any determiners or adjectives, the preposition d occurs only once (in the compound metres-d-ekòl), the more basilectal forms ole ‘want’ and kapab ‘be able to’ are used to the near exclusion of the more French-like verbs pe/peu and ve/veu (phonetic variants of pe do occur), and there are no traces of the tense markings on modal and auxiliary verbs that are common among mesolectal speakers (e.g., voudre, ora, ave). The variation in the use of long and short verb forms (section 6.1.2) is illustrated in

the translation task near the end of the interview. ME uses the short form of the verb ‘eat’ (monj) in translating the sentence ‘We eat lunch every day at noon,’ where it expresses a habitual present, and the long form monje after the preverbal marker e (N e monje astèr-la ‘We’re eating right now’), in the preterite (No monje no lontch a midi jòrdi-l ‘We ate lunch at noon today’) and in the ‘if clause of a hypothetical sentence (Si to monje sa, t a vini malad ‘If you eat that, you’ll get sick’). Her use of the long form in the last context shows that the distribution of long and short forms in Pointe Coupee Creole does not correspond perfectly to that of Breaux Bridge Creole, where the short form would be used in this context (Neumann 1985a, 318). Other noteworthy features of ME’s speech are the systematic pronunciation of the adverb koum with a high back vowel12 rather than a mid vowel, as in kom, kòm; the use of the progressive marker e to the complete exclusion of ap/ape; the unusually frequent realization of the postposed determiner or adverb -la as -a after a vowel (e.g., doktè-a, plu vye-a);13 and the absence of the future marker sa (as is revealed in the course of the translation task at the end of the interview, ME does not even recognize this marker). Creole and English TK: Ekan to komonse pale kreyòl? ME: Dèpi mo komonse pale. Mo momon-ye, te tou la ye te pale, se kreyòl. Dan la mezon, dan la kanpony, tou-ki-chò te kreyòl. Tou mo tont-ye, mo nonk, tou-ki-choz te kreyòl, sa-fe mo te gen pale kriyòl. E mo te gen kanprann li. Kan mo konmonse lekòl, la, mo te kòne langle. Men, se kan mo komonse lekòl ke mo pale (…) kreyò31. E mo komonse yus ongle. TK: Ki longaj vou aprann an prèmye? Vou aprann pou pale kreyòl avan vou aprann pou pale langle? ME: Onsonm. Mo pons mo momon te pale ongle (e) mwen, pou fe mo konmpronn, men tou-ki-cho dan la mezon sè te kreyèl. Sa-fe mo jus te kone li. [Pause.] Tou-moun te kònen kreyòl. Se tou la ye te

konnen. Kan mo gran-momon te kouri kote doktè, mo te va e li, e, doktè-a se di mwen sa 1 ole, e mo te gen di (pou) mo gran-momon. TK: Paskè li te pa konprann—— ME: Li pa konprann sa, sa doktè-a te di. TK: E li, doktè-la te pa pale kreyòl? ME: Huhuh. TK: Sè te en Meriken. ME: Uhuh. TK: E to gen de frè e de sè? ME: Mo gen de frè. Na, plu vye-a, li trwaz on apre mwen. L a konprann kreyòl,14 me li (gen plu) pale li konm mwen. E plu jenn-la, li swasannde. Li pa selman konprann kreyòl. TK: E ki lanne vou ne? ME: NINETEEN TWENTY-ONE. TK: NINETEEN TWENTY-ONE, OKAY. Se twa plu laje, plu vye dan la fonmiy? ME: Mhm. TK: E se jus twa ki pal kreyòl reèlman? ME: Mhm. Na mo plu vye piti, sa-ka [sic] Kalifounni a, li pe e pale kreyòl, men li kanprann tou-ki-choz, koum mwen. Paskè no STILL te e pale kreyòl dan la mezon. E mo momon te e parle kreyòl, e mo vwazen touki-choz t e pale kreyòl kan li ne, SO, sa-fe, li konprann kriyòl.15 Plu vyea. Me lòt-ye [lɔʧje], hmhm. TK: Komyen piti vou gen?

ME: Kat. TK: Kat piti. E se jis pli vye-la ki pal kreyòl, en ti bren? ME: Mhm. Li kòmprann tou-ki-choz. TK: Li konpran tou-ki-chò. ME: Mhm. TK: Mhm, mhm. E li aprann fròm twa, o—— ME: Jus dan la mezon. Na, mo mari, 1 a konprann kreyòl men li pa konne pale. Hmhm. TK: Li sòti isi? ME: Li sòrti Rakousi. TK: Rakousi. ME: E se tou la ye te pale la! Men li li te en ti bren, peutèt de mil [pause] pou—— TK: Pli lwen, pou? ME: Plu lwen. De mil plu lwen. Sa-fe li te pa don la konpony, SO, li pa konne pale li. So momon e so popa parle li, men li li pa konnen. M pa konen komon. Li konmprann tou-ki-choz.… E si li wa en F—— en zami ki parl jus kreyòl, ye a parle. Men li li pa konen. L a di en mo koum sa men li parl pa, pa konm mwen. TK: ènave plen moun kreyòl dan Rakousi? ME: Ye tou! Koum ousi [sic]! Men—— TK: Se kòm isi?

ME: Koum isi. Men sokèn famiy-ye te koum de mil [pause], uh, m pa konnè koumon ye pa, ye pa menm. Ye zus pa menm. TK: Me, so popo e so momo te pale kreyòl? ME: O wè. TK: Me li li pa apròn—— ME: Huhuh. Hmhm. TK: Mhm, mhm. E èna ankò jodi èna plen moun ki pal kreyòl kote Rakousi, ou èskè ye tou demenaje? ME: Na pa moun Rakousi ankò. TK: A wi, se tou nwaye. ME: Mhm. TK: Se tou (neye) astè. ME: Mhm, mhm. Na pa moun. TK: Eou ye kouri? Moun ki reste la avan. ME: O, ye kouri la Vil, ye kouri Kalifourni. Enan ki kouri MISSOURI. ST. LOUIS? Li gen so [long pause], pa zami, so paron. Li gen paron, (…) MISSOURI. Preumyè kouzen. TK: E li se en C.? ME: Mhm. … Creoles of Color TK: E Rakousi sè te pròch tou kreyòl.

ME: Tou kreyòl! Se tou la ye te parle. Koum isi. E ye te sanm nouzòt, tou-kichoz. Tou-moun Rakousi-l, te blon, blon, blon. Enan nouzòt, koum te gen monyè bren ave cheve nwa. Me Rakousi te plis blonn. Cheve rouj. Tou so prèmyè kouzin-ye, e kouzen, tou gen cheve rouj. Mo mari. TK: Sè te moun plis blan ME: Mhm! TK: ke (le) moun isit. ME: Ye te pa gen, LIKE, koum nouzòt nou te gen èn ou de k monyè bren, avek cheve nwa. Mo krwa sè te BECAU——paske ye te gen, chovaz isi. Se mwen ki e di sa. Man [sic] mo konne ye te gen chovaz ki res isi. E mwa me e di se sa-ki fe ye te gen enn ou de ki sorti mwanyè bren ave cheve nwa. Men no gen, sa ye pele Kadjen, on Lil, ki plu bren kè nouzòt. … TK: E tou-moun-sa-ye, ye marye ave lòt Kreyòl, ou enan ki ME: Ave Kreyòl! TK: pase——ye pa pase pou blon? Pa isit. ME: Pa isit, non. Hmhm. TK: Ye petèt kouri dan Kalifourni [laughs]. ME: Kouri Kalfourni oben la Vil. Paskè tou sa-ki te Rakoursi e kour la Vil, ye tou marye e blon. Si ye te pòkò marye, ye tou marye e blan. TK: E blan-ye te kone ki-moun sè te? ME: Mo pa konnen. M pa konnen. Pètèt kekenn te konen me pa ye tou. Paskè mo wa enn dan mo gran-nonk, frè mo gran-popa. Li te res la Vil. E, kan mo gran-popa te malad e mouri, li vini, isit pou res e nouzòt. Padan mo gran-popa te malad. E petèt li res, mo pa konnen,

en mwa o petet plis. E kon li te la, enan dan nou zami ki vini wa mo gran-popa. E kon ye rontre, ye wa mon nonk—— TK: Ki te monyè bren, ou (…) ME: Non non! Li te res la Vil. TK: Wi. ME: E ye di nouzòt, ye di nouzòt, "Men ki-moun se ye?" Men mo di, "Se——" mo gran-momon di, "Aben se mo bo-frè, se frè ave mo mari." Li di, "Aben, mo konnen nonm-sa-a dèpi mo te en piti. Me mo toujou konne li te en nom blan." [Laughs.] TK: [Laughs.] Li te kone li on Vil? ME: Uhuh. Te kònen li an Vil. E li wa li isi. TK: Me lanmi-sa-la sè te en moun blan ou en moun kreyòl? ME: Kreyòl. TK: O, me li te krwa—— ME: Li te krwa sa—— TK: Lòt-la [laughs]—— ME: Paskè se tou la li te e toujou konne. TK: Sa-fe, li te vi kòm en blan. ME: Mhm. TK: Li te viv kòm en blan (an Vil). ME: O wè, o wè, ye tou. E tou so piti-ye e tou so gran-peuti-ye e touki-chòz. Mo ja wa ye, me ye te supoze pou BE blan.

TK: Mhm. E le moun isit te konnen vizite ye an Vil? ME: Mhm, mhm. Paskè moun isit te sonm blon. … TK: Me tou to fanmiy, ye sòrti isit? To momo e to popo, e (…) gromomon e (…) gro-popo, ye sòrti isit, ou——? ME: Wè. Men ye, gran-gran-gran sòrti an Frons. TK: èskè to kone ekan ye vini isit fròm la Frans, ki-moun vini la Frans? ME: Mo konen mo, pa mo gran-momon, momon mo gran-mamon. Mo konnè li. Li mouri—— TK: To kone li? To te—— ME: M konnen li, wi. Li mouri—— TK: Li te toujou e viv kan vou te piti? ME: Mo te, [pause] mo te e kou lekòl deja, kon li mouri. Pa raple men mo te, peutet SEVENTH GRADE, kon li mouri. Sa-fe mo konnen li byen.… Tou sokenn moun sòrti (l)a Frons. TK: Na, li li ne isit? ME: Mo pa kone. TK: Li petèt ne la Frons. ME: Petèt li ne la Frons paskè kan li vini isi, ye te stil gen, è—— èsklavaj. Paskè li di mwen. Li raple kan so popa te gen èsklavaj, e li di li jame te e fe aryen ye gen èsklavaj pou fe tou-ki-choz. Sa-fe mo pa konnen si li ne isi o an Frons. M pa konen. TK: Me li te gen èsklav kon li te la? Kon li te piti.

ME: Isit. Li di li te sez on kon, kon ye, [pause] TK: Arète èsklavaj. ME: arète esklavaj, wè. Li te sez on. Paskè li (di) mwen te pa konnen koumon pou fe aryen, li jame te gen ouvraj, tou èsklavaj (…) fe tou la ——louvraj-la. TK: Sè te en fanm blan o sè te Kreyòl? O to pa konè? ME: Te sipoze pou——to wa kon ye tou vini isi… tou no paran … ye seye wa o no sorti. E pli ye wa, pli blon ye te. Sa-fe kon ye vini koum dènyena, té [sic] te blon. Sa-fe… ènan de tan no monde ye, "Ben koumon nouzòt se koulè dèn?" Ye pa konnen.16 TK: Ye jame kapab trouve moun koulè dan fanmiy-la. ME: Non. Ye pa kapab. … School TK: E tou-moun to te konne te pale kreyòl ou èsk ènave moun ki parle franse osi? ME: Mhmh. TK: Ki te pale franse? ME: Na mo gran-momon te pale fronse, e 1 te ekri fronse. TK: Li kouri lekòl pou aprann sa? ME: M pa konnen. Mo te pa konnen ase pou monnde tou kwèstchyon. Si mo se koum astèr-la, mo se monnde. Men, a ton-saa, moun te pa——to wa se sa-ki fe nou parl pa kreyòl. Vye moun-ye te seye fe ye piti bliye kreyòl. Ye te p ole pale kreyòl. TK: Kofè?

ME: M pa kònen. Bet! … TK: Ènave pa lekòl isit pou moun? ME: Ye te gen——non. Pa pou koulè. E te gen, on prèmyè, ye te gen ti lekòl pou Kadjen. On preumye. Mè tou Kreyòl te kouri——si enn te konnen, li te montre lot. TK: Me kote Rougon, ènave pa en lekòl pou Kreyòl? ME: Hmhm. TK: Non? (Ènave) pa sa? ME: Hmhm. Prèmyè lekòl ye te gen, tou Kreyòl nonm-ye met ansonm e ye bati li. E ye peye en TEACHER. … ME: Mwa mo te metres-d-ekòl pou diz-uit on. Mo montre piti-ye, A-BC, pou NINTH GRADE. E ye kite e ye kou HIGH SCHOOL. Baton Rouj oben, la Vil o Kalifourni. Me ye te pa gen HIGH SCHOOL. TK: Antour isit ye te pa gen en HIGH SCHOOL pou moun koulè. ME: Hmhm. TK: Mhm, mhm. Me, eou vou kouri lekòl? ME: Batan Rouj. TK: Batan Rouj. E sè te en lekòl pou moun koulè? ME: Mhm. Men, sé te en lekòl-o mo prèmyè kouri, sè te en lekòl katolik. Sa-fe, pròch tou-moun te kreyòl dan lekòl-la.… On lèskalye to kouri anwo, se te lekòl-la. Onba, se te en gran hòl, jus pou donn donse e touki-choz.… E kon no donn bal, nwa te pa pa [< pe pa] rontre. Ye te gen moun kote le pòt, la pòt-la, si to nwa to te pò pa kouri bal-la. Se te jis Kreyòl.

TK: Me, nwa te kouri lekòl pou aprann? ME: Wè,e—— TK: Me ye te pa kapab rantre pou bal(-la). ME: Non! Huhuh! Sa nou te donn pou lamizmon, NO nwa! Hmhm. TK: Me, la journè ye te la pou aprann. ME: Wi. Men, ye te pa gen plen, paskè moun nwa te pa katolik don ton-sa-a. Petèt en—— TK: Sè te en lekòl katolik? ME: Wè. TK: E ènave nwa la, me ye te pa katolik, nwa sa-ye ki te, ki te aprann (la)—— ME: Enan jus en famiy ki te katolik, te, mwa mo konnen. Me i te gen lòt. TK: Me ènave plen nwa katolik antour la Fòs Rivyèr, non? ME: Mhm. TK: Me Baton Rouj sè te protèstan, sè te babtis. The Church During Segregation ME: Hmhm. E to wa, no legliz, ye te gen nwa, te vyen no legliz, me ye (peu te) pa pa asit. TK: Ye te pa asi dutou. ME: Nuhuh! TK: Ye te rèste debout.

ME: Debout dèryè. To te peye pou to asit. Tou lez an to te peye senk pyas. … ME: To wa, tou lez an to te peye e to te asit dan menm bon-la. Se koum sa te. To peye pou to bon, e to asit. Tou lez on to peye kon se ton. Sa-fe paerla te vonn, pa konnè konmen bon, kote Kreyòl. Sa li te bezwen, li te vonn Kreyòl. Me li te pe e vonn ave nwa-ye. Sa-fe —— TK: Mèm si ye te gen larjan, li pa vonn (li)? ME: Huhuh! Sa-fe ye te pa ka asit. Se koum sa UNTIL, uska pèr-la mouri. TK: Ekan sè te, kon li mouri? ME: Kan, pèr-la mouri, men li batize mo prèmye piti. E mo prèmye piti karont-nèf. Petèt li te dez on, kon li mouri. TK: Wè. Sa-fe, sa pa chanje avon petèt mil-nef-san-senkant ou kèkchòz kòm sa? ME: Mhm. Pa chonje. … TK: Ènave blan dan legliz-la? ME: Wè, blon-ye, te asit, ye peye ye bon. E Kreyòl peye ye bon. Men nwa, hmhm. … TK: E, pèr-la, sè te en Franse? ME: O! Li sòrti on Frons! TK: Kòmon ye te pèle li? ME: Pèr Savoure.

TK: Savoure. ME: Li te pa kapab pale ongle pròch! [Laughs.] To te gen traka konpronn li, si to pa konnen frons [sic]. Mhm. TK: E li te fe la mès an fronse? ME: En dimonch on fronse, lòt dimonch-la ann ongle. TK: Me pa an laten? ME: Huhuh. TK: Li te pa fe sa an laten. ME: Men ye fe laten——la mes-la te laten. Men so, so, so prèche, li prèche en dimonch angle, en dimonch an fronse. Paskè tou legliz-la te fronse! TK: E le moun te kapab konmpronn pasè, franse li te pale sé te franse la Frans? Li te pale kreyòl, mo sipoz. ME: Hmhm, me no te kò——no, no konpronn li. TK: E tou-moun antour isit ki konpron kreyòl, ye te konpron franse-la li te pale? ME: Mhm, mhm. Li li te pa pale angle ditou.òmen17 li te parle ave en piti. Tou-ki-chòz te frons. Fronse. Mhm. TK: E, èskè vou apran pou lir ou ekri franse a lekòl? ME: Hmhm. TK: Non, vou janme etidye franse? ME: Hmhm. Mo te gen de lannen, uh, LATIN.

TK: Me franse se jus kreyòl vou aprann isit e franse vou tande kote legliz? ME: Mhm. TK: Mhm. Ènave plen moun isit ki pale franse la Frans osi, o sè te —— ME: Ye te gen kekenn. TK: Vou, vou gro-moman, vou di. ME: Mhm. TK: Vou mòman te pa pale——vou mòman (…) ME: Hmhm. Se pa mo gran-momon. Gran-momon mo moman. TK: A wi, gran-moman vou mòman. ME: Se, se li. TK: Li te pale franse, e li te pale kreyòl osi? ME: Mhm. Farming TK: E sa vou fanmiy te konne fe? Dan la vi, ye te fe rekòl, ou—— ME: Tou-ki-chòz te rekòt. Se tou. Se tou la ye te gen isi. Rekòt. E vye te fe tou sa ye bezwen. Pèson te ven pa——te pa kouri, uh, [pause] dan, uh, [pause] THE STORE. [ME pronounces this word softly and with rising pitch, as if to ask what the Creole word is.] TK: Ye te pa kouri magazen achte zafè? ME: Mo jame wa mo momon fe GROCERY don en magazen. Jame wa sa. Apre li te vye koum mwen, mo te kouri e li, men pou sokenn

lamezon, li jame fe sa. Mo popa te gen tou sa (no) bizwen. Kon li te vonn so rekòt, li te kouri pron so larjon, e achte savon ave diri e kichòz koum sa, e met la, pou tou lanen. TK: Pou tou lannen? ME: Uhuh. Se koum sa (ne to)18 fe sa. Tou-moun lan antou! TK: E vou popa te fe rekòt? ME: Mhm. TK: Mhm. Li te pa——inave osi moun ki te charpontye, ki te mason, e (zaf è kòm sa)? ME: Ye te konnen en pe, wi. Ye se fe sa a lontour, ye te pa fe sa pou en lavi. TK: Pou en lavi sè te rekòt? ME: Mhm. TK: E vou te konne travay dan dezè, dan klo kon vou te piti? ME: Mwen?! Mwen?! TK: Wè. ME: Kan mo popa mouri, NINETEEN FORTY-FOUR, li te gen rekòt, me li mouri dan jen. Rekòt-la te tou fe. Mwen e mo de fre-ye mete tou rekòtla ondon. Mo ramas koton, mo tou-sel! Ye te, [pause] I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU SAY GIN. TK: Moulen. ME: Moule——ye te moule trwa bal kon mo to gen moun pou ède mwa. Trwa bal mo ramas mo tou-sel! Mo tou-sel! No fe trez bal koton, e de san [pause] CANE. De san tann dekonn. E tou mayi e, zonyon e patat, tou-ki-chò no rontre li tou nou, jis nou trwa.

TK: E, vou fe sa tou a la men? ME: Mhm. TK: Koupe dekann a la men? Wow! ME: Tou-ki-chòz. TK: Sè te en travay dur, en? ME: Mhm! Se la, mo frè kouri Batan Rouj pou aponn [sic] chapontye. Plu vye-a. Apre sa. Apre mo popa mouri. E li apronn la chontpi, uh, la chanp—— TK: La charpant? ME: La charpon. Me li te STILL gen so rekòt. Te e fe tou le de. La, (…) ye kite fe koton isi. Tou-moun kite fe koton. Te pa bon pou fe koton isi. Safe ye fe jus dekonn. To wa ènan jus dekonn ave SOYBEAN isi. Astèr-la. TK: Ye arète koton paskeu ye te pi kapab vonn koton-la, o koton te pa bon? ME: … Se don ton-sa-a gouvèrnemon … di moun sa-ki te meyè. E y te peye ye pou fe dekonn, fe plu dekonn, fe SOYBEAN, e gouvèrnemon di, koton te pa, uh, reisi isit, bon. Sa-fe ye kite. To wa, gouvèrnemon e stil peye moun pou fe dekonn. TK: Ye pa kapab fe plen larjan si ye fe sa jis ye-mèm, se gouvèrnoeman ki gen pou peye pou (…) ME: Mhm. To wa, moun-ye vonn dekonn-la e peye, (…) en pe. Men gouvèrnemon voye ye en tchek apre sa. E ye gen kouri a NEW ROAD e di konmen ye e kou fe, konmen tonn ye e kou fe, konmen [pause] [softly, asking for word] ACRES. TK: Mo bliye komon ye di s——arpan mo krwa——

ME: Arpon! Konmen arpon ye e kou plonte…, ye gen tou sa dan NEW ROAD. To wa? Ye pa kapab jus fe sa y ole ankò. Men ye koumonse [pause] monte koton ankò. Creoles of Color and the Chenal Picnic TK: Eou moun kreyòl, ye rèste antour isit, ènave Rakoursi, ènave Chnal, ènave lòt plas antour la Fòs Rivyè ou don la Pwent Koupe, eou ènave moun kreyòl? ME: Mhm. O ye res? TK: Wè. ME: WELL, jenn-ye, tou-partou ye tou va lekòl. To wa, kan gouvèrneman di to te gen kou lekòl, ye kite. Tou jenn-ye kite ye kou lekòl. E ye kouri menm la Vil, Kalifourni tou-pa. TK: Me dan tan pase, kan vou te piti ou petèt mem avan, ènave diferan plas kòm Chnal eou ènave pròch jus kreyòl ou——moun kreyòl ye te toupartou antour la Fòs Rivyè ou ye te dan diferan plas CONCENTRATED kom? ME: Ye te [pause] jus èn ou de lamezon. kreyòl. Èn ou de lamezon. Men kreyòl-sa-ye pa mele e nouzòt, paske nokenn moun te p e mele ave ye paske ye te sa ye pele ‘bata.’ Ye te gen en paran ki te blon e enn ki te nwa. Sa-fe ye te sonm kreykreyòl, men nouzkreyòlt, nokenn Kreyòl te pe e mele e ye paskè ye di ye te pa ase——mounsa-ye te bas klas. YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYIN’? TK: Mhm, mhm, bas klas, wè wè. Sa-fe, moun kreyòl, vouzòt moun kreyòlsé te jis Chnal, Rougon, antour isit…? ME: Aben, ye te gen koum plas, mo (byen si), sè te jus Kreyòl. Ye te gen kote OPELOUSA, ye te gen Lafayet, ye te gen o fonm, G. sòrti (…). Ye te gen Kreyòl koum sa. Men nouzòt nou te pa vizite paskè pèsòn te pa gen oto. Ye te pa gen [pause] HOW DO YOU SAY IT, I KNOW THE WORD.

TK: Cha? ME: Ye te pa gen cha, ye te pa gen labarkasyon. Le te pa g—— TK: La——? ME: Labarkasyon. TK: Lanbarkasyon! ME: Mhm. Pou vizite. TK: Lanbarkasyon se TRANSPORTATION? Se sa? ME: YES. Mhm. Ye te pa gen sa. Sa-fe, to te pa kouri vizite men to konne y te la. TK: Wè. Ye te fe gran, gro piknik isi? ME: Mhm. Me se koum sa no te konnen ye. Kon ye te gen piknik tou-moun kreyol te vini a piknik pou m——tou—— TK: Me pa moun bas klas? ME: O non! O non! E pa moun nwa! Na piknik-la te pour legliz. Te pour legliz, men NO nwa! Hmhm. TK: Jus moun kreyòl. ME: Mhm. … ME: E blan-ye te vini! Blan, blan te vini. Men ye te pa kapab donse. Se jus kreyòl. Paskè moun blan-(ye) t ole donse, nokenn fiy-ye te plu joli ke yekenn! E t ole danse, men non! Jus kreyòl.… TK: E, tou-moun kreyòl tou lantour te vini pou piknik-ye?

ME: Mhm. … TK: E, pou bal-ye, ki kalite la muzik ye te konne gen? ME: Li te gen gro benn. Ye te jwe plu joli ke astèr-la. E ye te gen—— nou te gaje benn blan, tou blan, o nou te gaje benn tou nwa, e ne [sic] ja gaje benn jus kreyòl. TK: Me jame melanje? Jame mele? ME: Si ye te e jwe ansanm ALL RIGHT. Me ye te gen benn kreyòl. TK: O! Eyou ye te sòrti, benn-la? Sè te moun isit ou sè te moun la Vil (…)? ME: Moun la Vil, ye te gen sa ye pèle CLAIBORNE WILLIAM. Na pa en benn ki te jwe myè ke ye. E ye te tou kreyòl. TK: Ki kalite lamuzik ye te konne jwe? Sè te JAZZ, sè teME: Koum, to konnen, gro benn-ye, ye, ye j——ye mantre an TV, (HARRY JAMES), GLENN MILLER? TK: Wè. ME: Ye te jwe koum sa. TK: O sè te kom sa. ME: Mhm. TK: E sè te chak onne, tou lez an? Tou lez an ye—— ME: Tou lez on. TK: Ye te fe piknik-la. ME: Piknik-la. E nou te konne gen bal tou ton. No donse on en PLATFORM.

TK: E piknik-la sè te pou legliz? ME: Mhm. TK: Huh. Se legliz ki te fe sa? ME: Non! Nouzòt nou——Kreyòl te fe li! Mè se, se pou sa no te fe li, nou dòn pret-la——se sa nouzòt nou te fe pou legliz. TK: OKAY. Uhuh. E, ye te vann diferan zafè pou manje, pou bwa? ME: Mhm. TK: Uhuh, uhuh. Sa ye te gen pou manje? ME: O, tou-ki-chòz. Men tou-moun te fe dinen, no te donn dinen pou aryen. TK: Ye te fe gonbo, ye te fe——? ME: No te vonn gòmbo-a. … TK: E nom te kòne bat? ME: Ou! [Claps hands.] So popa! [in reference to CS’s father, who had a reputation as someone who always got into fights] [Laughs.] TK: [Laughs.] Se sa mo tande di. ME: So popa te konnen——mo pa konnen, si s te pa en move nonm. Men li te toujou ole bat! (…) Ye te jus koumonse e ye te arte ye. Men to te gen gete li. Pa konen, koumon. … ME: Mhm. Men ye te arète ye la e tou-ki-chòz te ALL RIGHT. CS: YOU REMEMBER WHEN THEY TIED HIM TO A TREE?

ME: NO, DON’T REMEMBER THAT [laughs], CS: MY MAMA TOLD ME THAT. THEY TIED HIM TO THE TREE. ME: HE ALWAYS WAS PICKIN’. YOU KNOW. HE ENJOYED—— TK: Me sè te jame aryen deu mal. CS: (S)HE SAID THEY PICKED ON HIM. ME: [In response to TK’s utterance] Huhuh! Huhuh! Jame aryen mal. Hmhm. CS: THEY PICKED ON HIM, HE DIDN’T PICK ON THEM. … Music CS: DID THEY PLAY ZYDECO AT THOSE THINGS? ME: Hm? CS: THEY DIDN’T PLAY ZYDECO (…). ME: Hmhm. THEY PLAY IT NOW. CS: YEH, BUT THEY DIDN’T PLAY IT AT THE OLD PICNICS. ME: Hmhm. TK: SHE WAS SAYTN’ IT WAS BIG BAND MUSIC. CS: I HEARD THAT, YEH. TK: GLENN MILLER AND STUFF. CS: LIKE, LIKE GLENN MILLER AND STUFF. ME: Hmhm, hmhm.

CS: I TOLD YOU I NEVER HEARD ZYDECO UNTIL LATER, I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT ZYDECO WAS, I DON’T REMEMBER THAT FROM OUT HERE. TK: Me ye te mène benn OPELOUSAS? O sè te toujou la Vil? ME: Pa raple. La Vil, o Baton Rouj o kè——ye te gen bon benn. Baton Rouj, to konnen. O nou ka—— TK: Ènave moun isit ki te kone jwe la muzik? ME: Wè! Men se avon mo ton. Ye te gen en benn, tou-moun kreyòlla, te met ansanm e y te gen en gro benn e ye te jwe pou ye ladons ye-mèm. Men sè te anvon mo ton. M pa raple ye. TK: Èskeu vou konnen ki kalite la muzik ye te konnen jwe? ME: Tou-ki-chò. Koum benn-ye, koum GLENN MILLER tou gro benn-ye. Nonm-la la te (p) jwe kòrnet, e te jwe, SAXOPHONE, touki-chòz. Gro benn. TK: Ènave moun ki te kòne jwe vyolon isit? ME: Ou! Pròch tou-moun te kònen jwe vielon. TK: E ki kalite la muzik ye te kone jwe avek sa, paskè gro benn-ye, GLENN MILLER-ye, mo krwa ye pa gen sa. ME: Men ye te gen denn. Paskè mwa mo gen en——kouzen mo popa. Te jwe vielon. Jame fe en lot koum sa. Li se jwe vielon koum ——i ja pa konnen enn not la muzik. … ME: E li te jwe dan Baton Rouj i te jwe on rediyo, tou-ki-chòz. TK: E ki kalite la muzik li te kone jwe? ME: Vielon. E li li te gen en gro benn. E li te jwe vielon.

TK: Me sè te pa kòm la muzik kadjè n o la muzik zaydeko. ME: Huhuh! Te——huhuh, te règ——uh, benn. La muzik benn. Me li te jwe VI——Vllon [ ]. M——kan mo te e kou lekòl Baton Rouj, mo te——to konnen s te pa koum astèr-la, moun te pa fe to aryen. … ME: Mo te kouche don la chonm devon, e te gen, la fenet koum sa, e pèrsòn te pa gen AIR CONDITION, sa-fe to te met to lafenet e, mo te dòrmi. E mo tannde kè-ki-choz. E kan mo rèveye, mo tannde sè te la muzik. E mo garde (dan) la finet, nou te gen en lagaldri devon. E li li te asit onn no lagaldri, e jouwe vielon, a dèz-èr leu maten. Li jwe, li jwe, li jwe, e la li desann li kou laba. [Laughs.] TK: [Laughs.] Sa reveye tou-moun (…)? ME: No us mwa [laughs]. TK: Ènave moun jwe lakòrdeyon? ME: O wè! Kote o li li sòrti [in reference to her husband], Rakousi, sè te lakòrdeyon, ave vielon. KE: (…) GUITAR. ME: Gita. E ye te gen ye OWN benn, ye te fe ye OWN ladons, e y te gen ye OWN benn Rakoursi. E tou nonm-ye te jwe sa yo [sic] t ole. Pèsòn pa montre ye. Ye us te konnen. … ME: Men moun te ENJOY ye-menm, ye te pa jongle tou-ki-chòz koum astèria. Ye te kanton kouri ENJOY tou le dimonch o swa ye te gen bal. … Doctors and Medical Care TK: Vou te ne dan lopital?

ME: Hmhm! Pèsòn te va pa lopital. Dan mokenn ton kon mo te gen mo pitiye, se prèmyè moun ki te kouri lopital. Onvon sa—— TK: Vou piti te tou ne dan lopital? ME: YEH, onvon sa tou-moun te gen piti dan lamezon. TK: Dan la mezon? Avek en chas-fanm? ènave chas-fonm? ME: Ènan moun ki te gen ch——uh, fonm. Men nouzòt, tou Kreyòl(la) to te gen en doktè. TK: O, Ènave doktè ki te vini la mezon. ME: Mhm, mhm. TK: Sa-fe sè te pa avek en chas-fonm, (…) ME: Hmhm, hmhm. Na o li li sòrti, ye te gen fonm-ye. O li li sòrti [in reference to her husband and his place of origin in Raccourci]. TK: Wè? ènave chas-fanm kote Rakousi? ME: Uhuh. Men nouzòt no te gen de doktè ki res isi. TK: Kòmon ye te pel li, vou rapel so non? ME: Enn sè te doktè (Sen Duzye), AND lot-la sé te [pause], mo konnen men mo bliye so non. TK: Me li te rèste Chnal ou Chmen Nef? ME: Ènon enn ki te res, NEXT DOOR N.-ye. E lot-la te res, to kouri on GLYNN, e to vire petet de mil. Men li te gen en lofis…, so lofis kote no legliz. O kote no legliz. Sa-fe li te vini la e ret tou la journen. TK: Sè te doktè ki jis te pale meriken, pa Kreyòl? ME: Wè li te pale kreyol!

TK: O li te pale Kreyòl osi? ME: O wè! Kan mo te e vini pou marye, (… te) nokenn doktè, li te pase, kouri kote so lofis, e lapre-midi li pase kouri BACK kote so lamezon. E si t ole wa doktè, to met en pol ave en mòso raeg on la. Si li wa sa devon to lapòt, li arete. TK: Mo ja tande pale pou sa.… ME: E kan mo popa mouri, dan jen, e mwa mo marye, fèbri-fèvriye, apre sa. E kan mo popa mouri, li tè konnen rete tou le jou e wa nòuzot, e pale e nouzòt. Pou apre de mwa. Li rete tou lè jou. E li te e pale e nouzòt en ti pe la li kour(i) la mezon. TK: Se te en doktè blan? ME: Mhm! Mhm. TK: Nave pa Kreyòl antour isit ki te doktè? ME: Hmhm. Lè mo wa. [Pause.] Pa res isi. Hmhm. Pa res isi. Hmhm. To wa Kreyòl te pa kou lekòl. Li te pa gen lekòl e ye te pe e kouri—— ye te pa kapa kouri lekòl blon, e ye te pe e kouri lekòl nwa, sa-fe ye te pa kouri lekòl. TK: Sa-fe ènave plus nwa ki kouri lekòl ke Kreyòl ki kouri lekòl (…). ME: Men y te gen (PLACE) ye pele (en) lekòl, to wa (anbwa) don en ti legliz, sa-fe s—— TK: Mhm. Me ènave pa lekòl katolik pou Kreyòl? ME: Hmhm. … Blacks, Whites, and Creoles ME: Kreyòl-ye astè, ye tou (e) mèle ave nwa. M pa mokenn famiy.

TK: Pa vokèn fanmiy. ME: Hmhm. TK: Non, ye jus marye Kreyòl ou blan. ME: O blon (…), blon.… To wa mo jonn se en nwa——en blon, mo di twa. Mari mo fiy. (…) res Batan Rouj la. TK: Se en blan? ME: Se en blan, wè. Men, li konnen. Li konnen nouzòt se Kreyòl. TK: Mhm. E sa pa fe li aryen? ME: Hmhm, hmhm, hmhm. TK: Mhm, se bon, se bon. ME: Mo [laughs], li gen en biznis, te AN ACCOUNTANT. E dépi mo ——mo fiy e travay e li dèpi ye marye. Me li komonse travay e li anvon ye marye. Se sa ye konnen. So biznis se trwa fwa sa li te fan anvon [< fe anvon]. Dépi mo fiy e, e—— TK: [Laughs.] Kofè, sa li fe? Li mènè moun? ME: Ménen moun e li konnen—— li pa kapab ronje taks. Mè tou-lòtki-chòla li konnen myè kè so mari. Tou machin-ye, tou COMPUTERS, tou-kichòz! TK: Li kouri lekòl pou sa ou li apronn sa li-mèm? ME: … Li kour lekòl LSU. Me apre sa, li kou travay pou gouvèrnèmon. E ye montre li. Ye dèpi vòye li WASHINGTON pou apronn machin-ye e tou sa pou fe. Sa-fe li li di, li di sa li konnen se mo fiy ki montre li. [Laughs.] Li li konnen kalkule taks. Se sa li apronn. Aben mo fiy pa kapa fe sa, men tou-lòt-ki-chò-la dan lofis-la ——

TK: Vou gen petèt voye L.-ye laba paskè mo krwa ye pa konne komon fe ave ye larjan, ye gen en moun dan Batan Rouj ki fe tou sa pou ye me, mo pa konnen si (se en moun) onèt ou non. ME: Men mo jonn-la-(paskè) jonn se [pause] SON-IN-LAW. Li, se en bon bon katolik. E li 1 pe e vole moun, li pa konton fe sa. Paskè li fe kichòz ki jis, to konnen. Li fe ki-chò pou ede moun. … ME: E li konnen le lwa, la lwa. Pasè li kouri lekòl pou sa osi. Li pa gen so DEGREE dan la lwa, me li pròch. Sa-fe li konnen tou sa. … Translation Task TK: M ole petet monde twa komon pou di kek zafè an kreyòl. M a dòn twa diferan zafè an meriken, pou TRANSLATE, an kreyòl. ME: Si mo kapab! [Laughs.] TK: Wi, si vou kapab me se pa difisil. Se pa difisil. Kòmon to di an kreyòl ‘WE’RE EATING RIGHT NOW.’ ME: Ne e monje, astèr-la. TK: OKAY, OKAY. HOW WOULD YOU SAY—— ME: Astér-la MEANS RIGHT NOW. TK: OKAY. HOW ‘BOUT ‘WE EAT LUNCH EVERY DAY AT NOON.’ ME: No monj lontch tou le jou a midi. TK: UHUH, OKAY. AND HOW WOULD YOU SAY—— ME: LIKE LUNCH, CREOLES WOULD USE THE SAME WORD. TK: OKAY. HOW WOULD YOU SAY, (LET’S) SAY IT’S ABOUT, IT’S IN THE AFTERNOON NOW AND YOU SAY ‘OH WE ATE LUNCH

AT TWELVE O’CLOCK TODAY.’ ME: O, no monje no, no lontch a midi jòrdi-l. TK: OKAY, se bon, se bon. HOW WOULD YOU SAY, IF YOU’RE A, A LITTLE CHILD THINKING ABOUT WHAT YOU WERE GONNA DO IN THE FUTURE AND YOU’D SAY ‘I’M GOING TO BE A DOCTOR WHEN I GROW UP.’ ME: O. M e jangle fe en medsen, fe mo-menm en medsen, en medsen kon m a, uh, [hesitates] TK: WHEN I GROW UP, kon m a … ME: [In low voice] I KNOW IT, I’LL, I HAVE TO THINK. [Quickly, with resolution] Kon m a vini vye. TK: OKAY. Kan m a vini vye. Uh, HOW WOULD YOU SAY ‘I’LL BE FIFTY NEXT WEEK’? ME: M a fe senkont, la smenn-m a fe senkont don en smenn. TK: OKAY. HOW ‘BOUT, ‘WE’LL BE THERE AT SIX O’CLOCK.’ ME: N a vini pou siz-è. TK: OKAY. N a vini pou siz-è. Uh, HOW ‘BOUT, ‘IF YOU EAT THAT, YOU’LL GET SICK.’ ME: Si to monje sa, t a vini malad. TK: T a vini malad, OKAY. DO YOU EVER USE THE WORD ‘sa’ IN THE FUTURE, LIKE ‘to sa malad,’ o—— ME: NO. TK: NO? ‘CAUSE I’VE HEARD THAT A FEW TIMES, AND ONE THING

ME: NO. TK: I’M ALWAYS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ‘a,’ LIKE’t a, t a vini malad’ AND ‘sa.’ ME: NO. THERE WAS SOMETHING I WAS THINKIN’ I WANTED TO TELL YOU, THE DIFFERENCE. TK: WELL, YOU WERE TELLIN’ ME THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WHAT THE CAJUNS SAY AND WHAT THE CREOLES SAY, LIKE YOU HAD GIVEN ME, ONE OF THE, THE WORDS WAS ‘gro—— gran-moman’ AND ME: Gran-men. TK: gran-mè. ME: ‘Kouman vou ye?’ Fronse toujou di ‘Koumon vou ye?’ Kreyòl, ‘Koumon to ye?’ ‘Komon to ye?’ Kreyòl a di. A jamen di ‘vou.’ Anmæ se en moun k konnen fronse. TK: [Not having understood ‘anmæ’] ‘Anmè’ se en mou-komon to di (sa)? ME: UNLESS IT’S—— TK: UNLESS, HOW WOULD YOU SAY ‘UNLESS’ IN CREOLE? ME: CREOLE? TK: YEH, YOU JUST SAID, I, I UNDERSTOOD THAT YOU MEANT ‘UNLESS,’ BUT I DIDN’T QUITE CATCH THE WORD, ‘anmè’? ‘anmwen’? ME: An-onmèr. THAT’S THE WAY TK: [Expressing great surprise] Anmèr?!

ME: THEY ALWAYS SAID ‘anmèr se,’ YOU KNOW ‘INSTEAD OF’ OR ‘UNLESS.’ THAT’S THE WAY I’VE ALWAYS SAID THAT. TK: I’VE NEVER HEARD THAT BEFORE. ‘Anmèr se en moun Kreyòl’? ME: YEH. TK: Ou ‘anmèr se en moun (ki kone) fronse.’ ME: Anmèr, THAT’S THE WORD WE USE TO MEAN ‘UNLESS.’ TK: I’VE NEVER HEARD THAT BEFORE (…). … ME: To wa, kan to vini…, o se di, ‘Zo ja vini? Lon-rontre. Rontre. E, fronse se Ontre.’ TK: A wi, mhm. Sa se vre. ME: Se ontre. Men Kreyòl a di, ‘rontre.’ TK: Kan vou di ‘Fronse,’ vou min moun la Frans? ME: Mhm. TK: A wi, mhm. ME: Mo-la. Se ‘ontre.’ Me Kreyòl di, ‘rontre.’ TK: Mhm, mhm. E Kreyòl, ye di pa ‘vou,’ ye di jis ‘to’? ME: Wi. TK: ‘To,’ OKAY. Me m a di ‘to.’ ME: [Laughs.] TK: [Laughs.]

ME: E kon se en vyè moun ye a di, [long pause], [very low] koman no jus di? Mo-la? TK: ‘Vou?’ ME: ‘Vou. Vou!’ Na, si en Kreyòl e pale ave en vyè moun, ye a di ‘vou.’ TK: Wè, èna moun ki di mwen sa, mhm. Men si se en j n moun ye di ‘to,’ men si se en vyè moun ye di ‘vou.’ (End of tape) Translation of "Creole and English" TK: When did you begin speaking Creole? ME: Since I began speaking. My mother’s people, that’s all they spoke, was Creole. In the house, in the country, everything was Creole. All of my aunts, my uncle, everything was Creole, so I had to speak Creole. And I had to understand it. When I began school, then, I knew English. But, it was when I started school that I (no longer?) spoke Creole. And I began just (speaking) English. TK: Which language did you learn first? Did you learn to speak Creole before you learned to speak English? ME: Together. I think my mother spoke English with me to make me understand, but everything in the house was Creole. So I just knew it. [Pauses.] Everyone knew Creole. That’s all they knew. When my grandmother went to the doctor, I went with her, and the doctor would tell me what he wanted, and I had to tell my grandmother. TK: Because she didn’t understand—— ME: She didn’t understand what the doctor said. TK: And he, the doctor didn’t speak Creole? ME: Huhuh.

TK: He was an "American." ME: Uhuh. TK: And do you have brothers and sisters? ME: I have two brothers. Now, the oldest, he (was born) three years after me. He understands [lit., will understand], but he (doesn’t?) speak it like me. And the youngest, he’s sixty-two. He doesn’t even understand Creole. TK: And what year were you born? ME: Nineteen twenty-one. TK: Nineteen twenty-one, okay. Are you the oldest in the family? ME: Mhm. TK: And you’re the only one who really speaks Creole? ME: Mhm. Now my oldest child, the one who’s in California, he won’t [i.e., can’t] speak Creole, but he understands everything, like me. Because we were still speaking Creole at home. And my mother was speaking Creole, and my neighbors and everything were speaking Creole when he was born, so, he understands Creole. The oldest. But the others, hmhm. TK: How many children do you have? ME: Four. TK: Four children. And it’s just the oldest one who speaks Creole, a little? ME: Mhm. He understands everything. TK: He understands everything.

ME: Mhm. TK: Mhm, mhm. And did he learn from you, or—— ME: Just at home. Now, my husband, he understands Creole but he doesn’t speak (it). Hmhm. TK: Is he from here? ME: He’s from Raccourci. TK: Raccourci. ME: And that’s all they spoke there! But he was a little, maybe two miles—— TK: Farther? ME: Farther. Two miles farther. So he wasn’t in the country [i.e., in this area?], so he doesn’t speak it. His mother and his father spoke it, but he doesn’t know (how to speak it). I don’t know how. He understands everything.… And if he sees a friend who speaks just Creole, they’ll speak (it). But he doesn’t know (how). He’ll say a word now and then but he doesn’t speak (it), not like me. TK: Were there a lot of Creole people in Raccourci? ME: All of them! Like here! But—— TK: Is it like here? ME: Like here. But his family was maybe two miles [pause], uh, I don’t know how they aren’t, aren’t the same. They’re just not the same. TK: But, did his father and his mother speak Creole? ME: Oh yes.

TK: But he didn’t learn—— ME: Huhuh. Hmhm. TK: Mhm, mhm. And, are there still today, are there lots of people who speak Creole in Raccourci, or have they all moved? ME: There are no people in Raccourci anymore. TK: Oh yes, it’s all flooded. ME: Mhm. TK: It’s all flooded now. ME: Mhm, mhm. There are no people. TK: Where did they go, the people who lived there before? ME: Oh, they went to New Orleans, they went to California. There are some who went to Missouri. St. Louis? He [i.e., ME’s husband] has his, not friends, relatives. He has relatives (…) in Missouri. First cousins. TK: And he’s a C. [family name]? ME: Mhm. … Translation of "Creoles of Color" TK: And Raccourci was almost all Creole? ME: All Creole! That’s all they spoke. Like here. And they looked like us, everything. Everyone in Raccourci was white, white, white. There are some of us who were kind of brown with black hair. But Raccourci was whiter. Red hair. All his first cousins, they all have red hair. My husband.

TK: They were people who were whiter (more blonde?) ME: Mhm! TK: than the people here. ME: They didn’t have, like, like us, we had one or two who were kind of brown, with black hair. I think it was because there were Indians here. That’s me saying that [i.e., that’s just my own theory]. But I know there were Indians who lived here. And I’m saying that’s why there were one or two who came out kind of brown with black hair. But we have what they call Cajuns, on the Island, who are browner than us. … TK: And all those people, they married other Creoles, or were there some who ME: Creoles! TK: passed——they didn’t pass for white? Not here. ME: Not here, no. Hmhm. TK: Maybe they went to California [laughs]. ME: Went to California or to New Orleans. Because all of those who were in Raccourci and went to New Orleans, they all married white. If they weren’t already married, they all married white. TK: And did the whites know who they were? ME: I don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe someone (some?) knew but not all of them. Because I saw one of my great uncles, my grandfather’s brother. He lived in New Orleans. And, when my grandfather was sick and dying, he came here to live with us. While my grandfather was sick. And maybe he stayed, I don’t know, a month or maybe more. And when he was here, there were some of

our friends who came to see my grandfather. And when they came in, they saw my uncle—— TK: Who was kind of brown, or (…) ME: No no! He lived in New Orleans. TK: Yes. ME: And they said to us, "But who’s that?" But I said, "That’s-" my grandmother said, "Well that’s my brother-in-law, that’s my husband’s brother." He said, "Well, I’ve known that man since I was a child. But I always knew he was [i.e., I always knew him as] a white man." [Laughs.] TK: [Laughs.] Did he know him in New Orleans? ME: Uhuh. Knew him in New Orleans. And he saw him here. TK: But was that friend a white person or a Creole person? ME: Creole. TK: Oh, but he thought—— ME: He thought that—— TK: The other [laughs]—— ME: Because that’s all he had ever known. TK: So he lived as a white man. ME: Mhm. TK: He lived as a white man (in New Orleans). ME: Oh yes, oh yes, all of them. And all his children and all his grandchildren and everything. I’ve seen them before, but they were

supposed to be white. TK: Mhm. And did the people here use to visit them in New Orleans? ME: Mhm, mhm. Because people here looked white. … TK: But is your whole family from here? Your mother and your father, and (…) grandmother and (…) grandfather, were they from here, or ——? ME: Yes. But their great-great-great (grandparents) came from France. TK: Do you know when they came here from France, who came from France? ME: I knew my, not my grandmother, my grandmother’s mother. I knew her. She’s dead—— TK: You knew her? You—— ME: I knew her, yes. She’s dead—— TK: Was she still living when you were a child? ME: I was already going to school when she died. I don’t remember but I was maybe in seventh grade when she died. So I knew her well. All her people came from France. TK: Now, was she born here? ME: I don’t know. TK: Maybe she was born in France. ME: Maybe she was born in France because when she came here, they still had slaves. Because she told me. She remembered when her father had slaves, and she said she never did anything, they had

slaves to do everything. So I don’t know if she was born here or in France. I don’t know. TK: But she had slaves when she was here? When she was a child. ME: Here. She said she was sixteen when, when they [pause] TK: Stopped slavery? ME: stopped slavery, yes. She was sixteen. Because she told me (she) didn’t know how to do anything, she never had work (to do), all the slaves (…) did all the work. TK: Was she a white woman or was she Creole? Or don’t you know? ME: (She) was supposed to——you see when they all came here … all our relatives… they tried to see where we came from. And the more they saw, the whiter they were. So when they got to like the last one, (they were?) white. So … there were times when we asked them, "Well how is it that we’re colored, then?" They don’t know. TK: They were never able to find colored people in the family. ME: No. They couldn’t. … Translation of "School" TK: And did everyone you know speak Creole or were there people who spoke French, too? ME: Mhm. TK: Who spoke French? ME: Now my grandmother spoke French, and she wrote French. TK: Did she go to school to learn that?

ME: I don’t know. I didn’t know enough to ask all (those) questions. If I had been like (I am) now, I would have asked. But at that time, people didn’t——you see that’s why we don’t speak Creole. The old people tried to make their children forget Creole. They didn’t want to speak Creole. TK: Why (not)? ME: I don’t know. Stupid! … TK: There wasn’t a school here for people? ME: There was——no. Not for coloreds. And there was, at first there was a little school for Cajuns. At first. But all the Creoles went——if one knew, he would teach the others. TK: But in Rougon, there wasn’t a school for Creoles? ME: Hmhm. TK: No? There wasn’t? ME: Hmhm. The first school they had, all the Creole men got together and they built it. And they paid a teacher. … ME: I was a school teacher for eighteen years. I taught the children ABCs, in ninth grade. And they left and they went to high school. (In) Baton Rouge or New Orleans or California. But they didn’t have a high school (here). TK: Around here they didn’t have a high school for colored people. ME: Hmhm. TK: Mhm, mhm. But, where did you go to school? ME: Baton Rouge.

TK: Baton Rouge. And was it a school for colored people? ME: Mhm. But, it was a school——where I first went, it was a Catholic school. So, almost everyone was Creole in the school.… On the stairs you went up, that was the school. Downstairs, that was a big hall, just to give dances and everything.… And when we gave dances, blacks couldn’t come in. There were people at the doors, the door, if you (were) black you couldn’t go to the dance. It was just Creoles. TK: But, did blacks go to school to learn? ME: Yes, and—— TK: But they couldn’t come in for the dance. ME: No! Huhuh! What we gave for entertainment, no blacks! Hmhm. TK: But, during the day they were there to learn. ME: Yes. But there weren’t many of them, because black people weren’t Catholic in those days. Maybe one—— TK: It was a Catholic school? ME: Yes. TK: And there were blacks there, but they weren’t Catholic, those blacks who, who learned (there)—— ME: There was just one family that was Catholic, (that) I knew. But there were others. TK: But there were lots of Catholic blacks around False River, weren’t there? ME: Mhm. TK: But in Baton Rouge they were Protestants, they were Baptists.

Translation of "The Church During Segregation" ME: Hmhm. And you see, our church, there were blacks, came to our church, but they (…) couldn’t sit. TK: They didn’t sit at all. ME: Nuhuh! TK: They remained standing. ME: Standing in the back. You paid to sit down. Every year you paid five dollars. … ME: You see, every year you paid and you sat in the same pew. That’s how it was. You paid for your pew, and you sat. Every year you paid when it was time. So the priest would sell, I don’t know how many pews, to Creoles. Whatever he needed, he would sell to Creoles. But he wouldn’t sell to blacks. So—— TK: Even if they had money, he wouldn’t sell (it)? ME: Huhuh! So they couldn’t sit down. It was like that until, until that priest died. TK: When was that, when he died? ME: When, the priest died, well he baptized my first child. And my first child is forty-nine. Maybe he was two, when he died. TK: Yes. So it didn’t change until maybe nineteen fifty or something like that? ME: Mhm. Didn’t change. … TK: Were there whites in the church?

ME: Yes, the whites sat down, they paid for their pews. And Creoles paid for their pews. But blacks, hmhm. … TK: And the priest, was he a Frenchman? ME: Oh! He came from France! TK: What was his name? ME: Father Savourè. TK: Savourè. ME: He could barely speak English! [Laughs.] You had trouble understanding him, if you didn’t know French. Mhm. TK: And he said mass in French? ME: One Sunday in French, the other Sunday in English. TK: But not in Latin? ME: Huhuh. TK: He didn’t do it in Latin. ME: Well they did Latin——the mass was Latin. But his sermon, he preached one Sunday in English, one Sunday in French. Because the whole church was French! TK: And people could understand because, the French he spoke was the French of France? He (also) spoke Creole, I suppose. ME: Hmhm, but we could——we understood him. TK: And everyone around here who understood Creole, they understood the French he spoke?

ME: Mhm, mhm. He didn’t speak English at all. Unless he was speaking with a child. Everything was French. Mhm. TK: And, did you learn to read or write French in school? ME: Hmhm. TK: No, you never studied French? ME: Hmhm. I had two years of Latin. TK: But [as far as] French [is concerned], it’s just the Creole you learned here and the French you heard in church? ME: Mhm. TK: Mhm. Were there lots of people here who spoke the French of France, or was it—— ME: There were some. TK: Your grandmother, you said. ME: Mhm. TK: Your mother didn’t speak——your mother (…) ME: Hmhm. It wasn’t my grandmother. (It was) my mother’s grandmother. TK: Oh yes, your mother’s grandmother. ME: It was her. TK: She spoke French, and she spoke Creole, too? ME: Mhm. Translation of "Farming"

TK: And what did your family use to do? For a living, did they raise crops, or—— ME: Everything was crops. That’s all. That’s all there was here. Crops. And the old people made everything they needed. No one went to the store. TK: They didn’t go to the store to buy things? ME: I never saw my mother do grocery shopping in a store. Never saw that. After she was old like me [i.e., like I am now (?)], I went with her, but for her own house, she never did that. My father had everything we needed. When he would sell his crops, he would go get his money, and buy soap and rice and things like that, and (get enough) for the whole year. TK: For the whole year? ME: Uhuh. That’s how we did it. Everyone around here! TK: And did your father raise crops? ME: Mhm. TK: Mhm. He wasn’t——were there also people who were carpenters, masons, and (things like that)? ME: There were a few, yes. They would do that (on the side?), they didn’t do that for a living. TK: For a living it was raising crops? ME: Mhm. TK: And did you use to work in the field when you were little? ME: Me?! Me?! TK: Yes.

ME: When my father died, in nineteen forty-four, he had a crop, but he died in June. The crop was all done. Me and my two brothers brought the whole crop in. I picked cotton, all by myself! They didn’t, I don’t know how you say ‘gin.’ TK: Moulen. ME: Moule——they ginned three bales when I had people to help me. Three bales I picked all by myself! By myself! We made thirteen bales of cotton, and two hundred, cane. Two hundred tons of cane. And all the corn, and onions and potatoes, everything, we brought it in, just the three of us. TK: And you did that all by hand? ME: Mhm. TK: Cut cane by hand? Wow! ME: Everything. TK: It was hard work, eh? ME: Mhm! That was when my brother went to Baton Rouge to learn carpentry. The oldest. After that. After my father died. And he learned carpent——[stumbles over word] TK: Carpentry? ME: Carpentry. But he still had his crops. He was doing both. Then, (…) they stopped raising cotton here. Everyone stopped raising cotton. It wasn’t good for raising cotton here. So they just raise cane. You see there are just cane and soybeans here. Now. TK: They stopped raising cotton because they couldn’t sell the cotton, or the cotton wasn’t good? ME: … It was at that time that the government… told people what was best. And they paid them to raise cane, raise more cane, raise

soybeans, and the government said cotton wasn’t succeeding well here. So they stopped. You see, the government is still paying people for raising cane. TK: They can’t make much money if they do it just themselves, it’s the government that has to pay them to (…) ME: Mhm. You see, people sell the cane and pay, (…) a little. But the government sends them a check after that. And they have to go to New Roads and say how much they’re going to raise, how many tons they’re going to raise, how many [pause] acres. TK: I forget how they say——arpan, I think—— ME: Arpon! How many acres they’re going to plant…, they have all that in New Roads. You see? They can’t just raise what they want anymore. But they’ve started raising cotton again. … Translation of "Creoles of Color and the Chenal Picnic" TK: Where did Creole people live around here, there was Raccourci, there was Chenal, were there other places around False River or in Pointe Coupee where there were Creole people? ME: Mhm. Where do they live? TK: Yes. ME: Well, the young people, everywhere, they all go to school. You see, when the government said you had to go to school, they left. All the young people left, they went to school. And they even went to New Orleans, to California, everywhere. TK: But in the past, when you were a child or maybe even before, were there different places like Chenal where there were almost only Creoles or——Creoles, were they everywhere around False River or were they sort of concentrated in different places?

ME: There were just one or two houses. Creoles. One or two houses. But those Creole didn’t mix with us, because our people wouldn’t mix with them because they were what they called "bastards." They had one parent who was white and one who was black. So they looked Creole, but us, our Creoles wouldn’t mix with them because they said they weren’t sufficiently—— those people were low class. You understand what I’m saying? TK: Mhm, mhm, low class, yes, yes. So, Creole people, your Creole people were just in Chenal, Rougon, around here …? ME: Well, they had like places, I’m (sure), where there were just Creoles. There was Opelousas, there was Lafayette, there was the place where (G.’s wife?) came from (…). There were Creoles like that. But we didn’t visit because people didn’t have cars. They didn’t have [pause] how do you say it, I know the word. TK: Cha?. ME: They didn’t have cars, they didn’t have transportation [labarkasyon]. They didn’t—— TK: La—— ME: Labarkasyon [transportation]. TK: Lanbarkasyon! ME: Mhm. To visit. TK: Lanbarkasyon is ‘transportation’? Is that it? ME: Yes. Mhm. They didn’t have that. So, you didn’t go visiting but you knew they were there. TK: Yes. Did they have big picnics here? ME: Mhm. And that’s how we knew them. When they had picnics all the Creole people would come to the picnic to——

TK: But not "low-class" people? ME: Oh no! Oh no! And no black people! Now the picnic was for the church. (It) was for the church, but no blacks! Hmhm. TK: Just Creole people. ME: Mhm. … ME: And the whites would come! Whites, whites would come. But they couldn’t dance. That was just Creoles. Because the white people wanted to dance, our girls were prettier than theirs! And (they) wanted to dance, but no! Just Creoles.… TK: And all the Creole people in the area would come to the picnics? ME: Mhm. … TK: And, for the balls, what kind of music did they have? ME: They had big bands. They played prettier than now. And they had——we hired white bands, all whites, or we hired all-black bands, and we even hired bands that were just Creole. TK: But never mixed? Never mixed? ME: If they were playing together it was all right. But there were Creole bands. TK: Oh! And where were they from, the bands? Were they people from here or were they people from New Orleans (…)? ME: People from New Orleans, they had one they called Claiborne William. There wasn’t a band that played better than them. And they were all Creoles. TK: What kind of music did they play? Was it jazz, was it——

ME: Like, you know, the big bands, they——they show on T.V., (Harry James), Glenn Miller? TK: Yes. ME: They played like that. TK: Oh, it was like that. ME: Mhm. TK: And was it every year? Every year they—— ME: Every year. TK: They had the picnic. ME: The picnic. And we had dances all the time. We danced on a platform. TK: And the picnic was for the church? ME: Mhm. TK: Huh. Was it the church that did that? ME: No! We—— Creoles did it! But that’s why we did it, we gave the priest——that’s what we did for the church. TK: Okay. Uhuh. And did they sell different things to eat, to drink? ME: Mhm. TK: Uhuh, uhuh. What did they have to eat? ME: Oh, everything. But everyone made dinner, we gave dinner for nothing. TK: Did they make gumbo, did they make——?

ME: We sold the gumbo. … TK: And did the men use to fight? ME: Oo! [Claps hands.] Her father [in reference to CS’s father]. [Laughs.] TK: [Laughs.] That’s what I’ve heard. ME: Her father used to——I don’t know, if he wasn’t a bad man. But he always wanted to fight! (…) They would just get started and they would stop them. But you had to watch him. I don’t know why. … ME: Mhm. But they would stop them then and everything was all right. CS: You remember when they tied him to a tree? ME: No, don’t remember that [laughs]. CS: My mama told me that. They tied him to a tree. ME: He always was picking (fights). You know. He enjoyed—— TK: But it was never anything bad. CS: She said they picked on him. ME: [In response to TK’s utterance] Huhuh! Huhuh! Never anything bad. Hmhm. CS: They picked on him, he didn’t pick on them. … Translation of "Music" CS: Did they play zydeco at those things?

ME: Hm? CS: They didn’t play zydeco (…). ME: Hmhm. They play it now. CS: Yeh, but they didn’t play it at the old picnics. ME: Hmhm. TK: She was sayin’ it was big band music. CS: I heard that, yeh. TK: Glenn Miller and stuff. CS: Like, like Glenn Miller and stuff. ME: Hmhm, hmhm. CS: I told you I never heard zydeco until later, I didn’t know what zydeco was, I don’t remember that from out here. TK: But did they bring bands from Opelousas? Or was it always New Orleans? ME: (I) don’t remember. New Orleans, or Baton Rouge or some—— they had good bands. In Baton Rouge, you know. Or we—— TK: Were there people here who played music? ME: Yes! But that’s before my time. There was a band, all the Creoles, got together and they had a big band and they played for their dances themselves. But that was before my time. I don’t remember them. TK: Do you know what kind of music they used to play?

ME: Everything. Like the bands, Glenn Miller, all the big bands. That man played trumpet, played saxophone, everything. Big bands. TK: Were there people who played violin here? ME: Oh! Almost everyone played violin. TK: And what kind of music did they used to play with that, because the big bands, Glenn Miller and them, I don’t think they have that. ME: But they had it then. Because I have——my father’s cousin. Played violin. They’ll never make another like that. He used play violin like——and he never knew a note of music. … ME: And he played in Baton Rouge and he played on the radio, everything. TK: And what kind of music did he play? ME: Violin. And he had a big band, and he played violin. TK: But it wasn’t like Cajun music or zydeco music. ME: Huhuh! It was——huhuh, it was reg—— uh, band (music). Band music. But he played violin. When I was going to school in Baton Rouge, I was——you know it wasn’t like now, people wouldn’t do anything to you. … ME: I slept in the front room, and there was a window like that, and no one had air conditioning, so you put your window (up) and, I slept. And I heard something. And when I woke up, I heard that it was music. And I looked out the window, we had a porch in front. And he was sitting on the porch, and playing the violin, at two o’clock in the morning. He played, he played, he played, and then he got down and went over there. [Laughs.] TK: [Laughs.] Did it wake everyone up (…)?

ME: No, just me [laughs]. TK: Were there people who played accordion? ME: Oh yes! Where he comes from [in reference to her husband], Raccourci, it was the accordion, and the violin. KE: (…) guitar. ME: Guitar. And they had their own bands, they had their own dances, and they had their own bands in Raccourci. And all the men played whatever they wanted. No one taught them. They just knew. … ME: But people enjoyed themselves, they didn’t think about everything like now. They were happy to go enjoy (themselves), every Sunday in the evening there was a dance. … Translation of "Doctors and Medical Care" TK: Were you born in a hospital? ME: Hmhm! No one went to the hospital. In my time, when I had my children, those were the first people to be born in a hospital. Before that—— TK: Your children were all born in a hospital? ME: Yeh, before that everyone had children at home. TK: At home? With a midwife? Were there midwives? ME: There were people who had (mid)wives. But us, all the Creoles, you had a doctor. TK: Oh, there was a doctor who came to the house. ME: Mhm, mhm.

TK: So it wasn’t with a midwife, (…) ME: Hmhm, hmhm. Now where he’s from, they had those women. Where he’s from [in reference to her husband and his place of origin in Raccourci]. TK: Yes? There were midwives in Raccourci? ME: Uhuh. But we had doctors who lived here. TK: What was his name? Do you remember his name? ME: One was Doctor (Saint Douzier), and the other was [pause], I know but I forgot his name. TK: But did he live in Chenal or New Roads? ME: There was one who lived next door to the N.’s. And the other one lived, you go to Glynn, and you turn (after?) about two miles. But he had an office…, his office at our church. At our church. So he would come there and stay all day. TK: Was he a doctor who just spoke English, no Creole? ME: Yes he spoke Creole! TK: Oh he spoke Creole, too? ME: Oh yes! When I was preparing to get married, (he was) our doctor, he would stop by, go to his office, and in the afternoon he stopped by on his way home. And if you wanted to see the doctor, you put out a pole with a piece of rag on it. If he saw that in front of your door, he stopped. TK: I’ve heard of that.… ME: And when my father died, in June, and I got married in February, after that. And when my father died, he would stop every

day and see us, and talk with us. For about two months. He stopped every day. And he talked with us a little, then he went home. TK: Was he a white doctor? ME: Mhm! Mhm. TK: There weren’t any Creoles around here who were doctors? ME: Hmhm. Let me see. [Pause.] Not that lived here. Hmhm. Not that lived here. Hmhm. You see Creoles didn’t go to school. There weren’t any schools and they wouldn’t-they couldn’t go to white schools, and they wouldn’t go to black schools, so they didn’t go to school. TK: So there were more blacks who went to school than Creoles who went to school (…). ME: Well there was a (place) they called a school, you see (…) in a little church, so—— TK: Mhm. But wasn’t there a Catholic school for Creoles? ME: Hmhm. … Translation of "Blacks, Whites, and Creoles" ME: The Creoles today, they’re all mixing with blacks. But not my family. TK: Not your family. ME: Hmhm. TK: No, they just married Creoles or whites. ME: Or whites (…), whites.… You see my son-in-law is a black——a white man, I told you. My daughter’s husband. (The one that) lives in

Baton Rouge. TK: He’s a white man? ME: He’s white, yes. But, he knows. He knows we’re Creole. TK: Mhm. And that isn’t a problem for him? ME: Hmhm, hmhm, hmhm. TK: Mhm, that’s good, that’s good. ME: I [laughs], he has a business, is an accountant. And ever since ——my daughter has been working with him since they were married. But she began working with him before they married. That’s what they know. His business is three times what it was before. Since my daughter TK:[Laughs.] Why, what does she do? Does she bring in people [i.e., customers]? ME: (She) brings in people and she knows——she can’t do taxes. But everything else she knows better than her husband. All the machines, all the computers, everything! TK: Did she go to school for that or did she learn it herself? ME: …She went to school at LSU. But after that, she went to work for the government. And they taught her. Since then they’ve sent her to Washington to learn the machines and everything (you have) to do. So he says, he says what he knows, it’s my daughter who taught him. [Laughs.] He knows how to calculate taxes. That’s what he learned. Well my daughter can’t do that, but everything else in the office——Maybe you should send the G’s there because I don’t think they know what to do with their money, they have someone in Baton Rouge who does all that for them, I don’t know if it’s an honest person or not.

ME: Well my son-in-law——(because) jonn is [pause] ‘son-in-law.’ He’s a good Catholic. And he won’t steal from people, he’s not happy doing that. Because he does what’s right, you know. He does things to help people. … And he knows the law. Because he went to school for that, too. He doesn’t have a degree in law, but he almost (has it). So he knows all that. … Translation of "Translation Task" TK: I’d like to ask you how to say some things in Creole. I’ll give you different things in English, to translate into Creole. ME: If I can! [Laughs.] TK: Yes, if you can but it’s not hard. It’s not hard. How do you say in Creole ‘We’re eating right now’? ME: Ne e monje, astèr-la. TK: Okay, okay. How would you say—— ME: Astèr-la means ‘right now.’ TK: Okay. How about ‘We eat lunch every day at noon.’ ME: No monj lontch tou lejou a midi. TK: Uhuh, okay. And how would you say—— ME: Like ‘lunch,’ Creoles would use the same word. TK: Okay. How would you say, (let’s) say it’s about, it’s in the afternoon now and you say, ‘Oh we ate lunch at twelve o’clock today’? ME: O, no monje no, no lontch a midi jòrdi-l.

TK: Okay, that’s good, that’s good. How would you say, if you’re a, a little child thinking about what you were going to do in the future and you’d say, ‘I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up.’ ME: Oh. M e jangle fe en medsen, fe mo-menm en medsen, en medsen kon m a, uh, [hesitates] TK: ‘When I grow up,’ kon ma… ME: [In a low voice] I know it, I’ll, I have to think. [Quickly, with resolution] Kon m a vini vye. TK: Okay, kan m a vini vye. Uh, how would you say "I’ll be fifty next week’? ME: M a fe senkont, la smenn——m a fe senkont don en smenn [lit., I’ll make fifty in a week]. TK: Okay. How ‘bout, ‘We’ll be there at six o’clock.’ ME: N a vini pou siz-è. TK: Okay. N a vini pou siz-è. Uh, how ‘bout, ‘If you eat that, you’ll get sick.’ ME: Si to monje sa, t a vini malad. TK: T a vini malad, okay. Do you ever use the word sa in the future, like to sa malad, or—— ME: No. TK: No? Because I’ve heard that a few times, and one thing ME: No. TK: I’m always trying to figure out is the difference between a, like t a, t a vini malad, and sa.

ME: No. There was something I was thinking I wanted to tell you, the difference. TK: Well, you were tellin’ me the difference between what the Cajuns say and what the Creoles say, like you had given me, one of the, the words was gro——gran-moman and ME: Gran-men. TK: gran-mè. ME: Kouman vou ye? The French always say Koumon vou ye? Creoles, Koumon to ye? Komon to ye? Creoles will say. (They) will never say vou. Unless it’s someone who knows French. TK: [Not having understood anmæ] Anmè is a——how did you say (that)? ME: Unless it’s—— TK: ‘Unless,’ how would you say ‘unless’ in Creole? ME: Creole? TK: Yeh, you just said, I, I understood that you meant ‘unless,’ but I didn’t quite catch the word, anmè? anmwen? ME: An——onmèr. That’s the way—— TK: [Expressing great surprise] Anmèr?! ME: They always said anmèr se, you know, ‘instead of or ‘unless.’ That’s the way I’ve always said that. TK: I’ve never heard that before. Anmèr se e moun kreyòl? ME: Yeh. TK: Or anmèr se en moun (ki kone) fronse.

ME: Anmér, that’s the word we use to mean ‘unless.’ TK: I’ve never heard that before (…). … ME: You see, when you come …, (or would say) ‘You’re here already?’ [lit., ‘You’ve already come?’] ‘Come in.’ Rontre. And, in French it’s ontre. TK: Oh yes, mhm. That’s right. ME: It’s ontre. But Creoles will say, rontre. TK: When you say ‘French,’ do you mean people from France? ME: Mhm. TK: Oh yes, mhm. ME: The word. It’s ontre. But Creoles say, rontre. TK: Mhm, mhm. And Creoles, they don’t say vou, they just say to? ME: Yes. TK: To, okay. Well I’ll say to. ME: [Laughs.] TK: [Laughs.] ME: And when it’s an old person they’ll say, [long pause], [very low] what did we just say? The word? TK: Vow? ME: Vou. Vou! Now, if it’s a Creole talking with an old person, they’ll say vou.

TK: Yes, there are people who’ve told me that, mhm. But if it’s a young person they say to, but if it’s an old person they say vou. (End of tape)

7.9 Interview with MP MP is a white woman born in 1931. She was sixty-seven at the time of the interview, which took place in June, 1997, at the New Roads business where she had been working as office manager for some twenty-five years. As she explains in the interview, she was born in Jarreau on the Island, where nearly everyone spoke Creole when she was growing up. The conversation covers a range of topics including her job, her childhood on the Island, relations between blacks and whites, learning English in school, the current status of Creole, her great-grandson’s trip to Disney World, and tragic deaths in her family. MP, who is well traveled, also tells stories about speaking Creole as a secret language with her cousin in such faraway places as Las Vegas and Dublin, Ireland. MP speaks Creole fluently and with ease. Unlike most people her age, she continues to speak the language on a daily basis with the many members of her extended family who still speak it and still live in the area. Her speech bears many of the hallmarks of ‘white’ Creole that distinguish it from that of most blacks. The frequency of front rounded vowels is very high (apeupre, jus, sælman, nul; note also front rounded œn [ ] in dizncef-trant-e-aen ‘nineteen thirty-one’; etc.). Plural and feminine markings on possessive determiners are common (me sœr ‘my sisters,’ me deu piti ‘my two children,’ metchenn piti ‘my [own] children,’ metchenn sœr ‘my [own] sisters,’ metchenn gran-piti ‘my [own] grandchildren,’ te vwazen ‘your neighbors,’ se piti, se seer e frè ‘his children, his sisters and brothers,’ ma fanmiy ‘my family,’ ma gran-mœr ‘my grandmother’) and the preposition deu is used to express syntactic relationships between nouns {en kar deu le pakann ‘a fourth of the pecans,’ but note also the more basilectal la motchye dan le pakann ‘half of the pecans’). Finally, there are many traces of French-like flexional verb morphology not typical of basilectal Creole (u ‘had’ < EU, past participle of Fr. AVOIR; swatre ‘wish’ < [JE / TU] SOUHAITERAIS, [IL / ELLE / ON] SOUHAITERAIT, [ILS / ELLES] SOUHAITERAIT,

conditional of Fr. SOUHAITER; sòrte ‘came from’ < [JE / TU] SORTAIS, [IL / ELLE / ON] SORTAIT, [ILS/ELLES] SORTAIENT, imperfect of Fr. SORTIR ‘go out’; voule ‘wanted’ < [JE / TU] VOULAIS, [IL / ELLE / ON] VOULAIT, [ILS / ELLES] VOULAIENT, imperfect of Fr. vouloir; krwaye ‘thought’ < [JE / TU] CROYASIS, [IL / ELLE / ON] CROYAIT, [ILS / ELLS] CROYAIENT, imperfect of Fr. CROIRE). Still, on the whole MP’s speech appears to contain fewer mesolectal features than that of many white Pointe Coupeeans, and as she states, it is her impression that she and the black playmates of her childhood spoke "the same Creole." Growing up on the Island TK: To kapab parle kreyòl. [Stated for confirmation.] MP: Wè mo kapab pale kreyòl si mo kapab konpron totchèn kreyòl [laughs]. … TK: Eou to ne e elve? MP: On la Riviyèr, FALSE RIVER. La Fòls Rivyèr. Enn plas CALLED Jaro. Se enn POST OFFICE, se pa enn, TOWN, se pa aryen——en VILLAGE, se just en POST OFFICE se … apeupre kenz MILES FROM isit, e se jus en, (le) jus de famiy ki reste la. TK: Me se on Lil. MP: On Lil. On Lil. Mo te pa konnen to te konnen sè te on Lil, èna Lil e èna la Fòs Rivyér e … Lil an en kote la Rivyér, Fòs Rivyè r an lot kote. E se kòm sa 1 mon te kònen eou to sòrte, to di, ‘Mo sòr an Lil.’ ‘Ki se sa Lil?’ [laughs]. I’M SAYING YOU THIS IN ENGLISH BECAUSE IT WAS FUNNY, I WAS IN BATON ROUGE, THAT MUST HAVE BEEN IN THE FORTIES, ‘BOUT FORTY-SEVEN, FORTYEIGHT, AND I WAS IN BATON ROUGE AND SOMEBODY ASKED ME WHERE I WAS FROM AND OF COURSE HERE I WAS, I THINK FIFTEEN OR SLXTEEN YEARS OLD AND I SAYS, ‘WELL I’M FROM THE ISLAND.’ AND THIS PERSON LOOKED AT ME

AND SAYS, ‘WHAT ISLAND?’ [laughs] SO THERE, YOU KNOW, WE WERE HERE FROM A RURAL AREA AND NEVER HAD GONE ANYWHERES FURTHER THAN BATON ROUGE YOU KNOW AND, IT WAS FUNNY, ‘WHERE YOU FROM,’ ‘I’M FROM THE ISLAND.’ ‘WHAT ISLAND?’ ‘YOU CRAZY THING, I’M FROM THE ISLAND!’ [laughs] Sa-fe se enterese, kàn to sòr isit e, dan le ton kòm sa, èna de mòn ki te sælman pa gen le otomobil. E to ale pa nul par èksèpte a lantour te vwazen. ‘Vwazen’ IS NEIGHBORS, AS YOU WELL KNOW. E se jus sa to waye sè te te vwazen. To se vini dan Chmen Neuf. En ti bren, pa M——pa bokou, paskeu to te gen le magazen ki te ora, to te pa beuzòn kouri nul par, le magazen… la ou nouzòt nou te (ye) te gen lenj, (ye) te gen manje, ye te gen tou sa to te beuzwòn. To te pa beuzòn kouri nul par. TK: Sé te de bitasyon? MP: Wè. Sè te konnen èt en bitasyon. E la apre sa ye lèse dumòn zus louwe de bou d tær e ye travay pou ye-menm e peye lwaye, a 1 mòn ki te konnen gen lenvitasyon [sic] paskeu ye te pa gen pèrsòn ki te kapab travay. IN OTHER WORDS, I CAN’T——DON’T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN THIS IN FRENCH BUT, IT WAS AFTER SLAVERY (YOUR KIND OF) PLANTATIONS BROKE UP AND THEN YOU RENT—— THEY RENTED THE PROPERTY, THE PLANTATIONS, THE PROPERTY WAS RENTED TO SHARECROPPERS SO TO SPEAK. TK: èskè èna en parol an kreyol pou sa, en mo pou SHARECROPPERS? OR ‘MY DADDY WAS A SHARECROPPER,’ kòmon (…) di sa an kreyòl, non? MP: I’VE NEVER HEARD IT. Mo pa, mo jòmen tann. TK: Ena de moun ki parle pou—— MP: Se jus se-mo te——ye se di, ‘Mo en færmye. Mo en faermye. E mo lou la tèr avek’ WHOEVER, avek, se F. obyen H.… Sè te pou ye, la tær. E kòm mo di, ye se lwe sa a diferan pèrsonn, e mo jòme tann en non pou sa.

TK: Ena de moun ki pari pou ‘travaye on kar.’ ‘Travaye on——’ MP: ènave dumòn ki te kòne travay an kar, wè. BUT motchèn popa jame travay an kar, li toujou peye z19 lwaye.… Ye se di li, ‘To gen pou peye mon san pyas stannen-la’ ou ‘deu-san pyas stannen-la,’ WHATE——,UH, sa ye se parle pour. E, BUT, ina dumoun ki te kònen travay an kar, e inave plen de plas, ina plen de pakann lantour-isit-la. Ena plen dumonn ki se lwe la tær BUT, (l)a kan ye se lwe la taer ye se di, ‘Mo veu en kar deu le pakann,’ obyen ‘Mo veu la motchye dan le pakann.’ Le pakann te peu pa kouri ave la taer, sa sè te separe. TK: Me travay an kar sè te kòm SHARECROPPING. MP: SHARECROP. THAT’S MORE SHARECROPPING THAN RENTING, BECAUSE THERE YOU’RE WORKING ACTUALLY FOR YOURSELF AS A RENTER, BUT YOU PAID THE RENT, IT’S JUST LIKE IF YOU RENT A HOUSE. YOU’RE, YOU KNOW, THAT’S… TK: Wè. E, to kapab di mwen ekan to ne? MP: Lannen? TK: Wè. MP: O, uh [pause], diz-nœf-trant-e-œn. I HAD TO THINK ABOUT THAT [laughs] (…) diz-nœf-trant-e-œn, diz-nœf-trant-e-œn. … MP: Wè. Kan nouzòt nou ne, pærsòn parle pa langle. Inave pa pèrs ——inave en peu ki te ramase deu-ou-trwa mo langle paskeu ye te gen de piti ki te plu vyeu keu mon ki kouri lekòl. Me motchèn fanmiy ——mon mo te pa foutu parle langle, mo pa kònen langle dutou. Mon sè te leu plu vyeu deu la fanmiy. Mon mo kouri lekòl e mo apràn langle e la me frèr e me sœr apròn avek mon kan ye ye kouri. Kan nouzòt nou kouri, kan mon mo kou lekòl, prèmye chòz fale ye fe mo apròn, se p [< pou] parle langle. Avan ye te kapab montre mon ekri,

oubyen konte. … TK: E kòmyen lanne to kouri lekòl? MP: Mon mo kouri onz, (an). Mo gradwe. Kan mon mo gradue,20 dan karantuit——diz-nœf-karant-uit mo gradue——dan diz-nœfkarant-nœf inave pa d graduasyon isit, pou ye kapab kouri pou geny [g ] douz lanne lekòl. Mon mo kouri onz. Andan me onz la mo sur ke mo u plus lendikasyon ke ena ki gen andan douz e katr an kolej astœr-la. Paskeu lekòl mon mo kouri, nou te gen de metrès ki te [pause] EXCELLENT. TK: Eou sè te? MP: Mo kouri lekòl a Rougon. TK: E dan ton-sa-la, Rougon sè te jis pou blan ou sè te blan e Kreyòl…? MP: O wè. Non, sè te zus (pou le) blan. TK: Jus pou blan. MP: Tou le lekòl isit sè te swa zus pou blan o zus pou nwar, zuska diz-nœfswasant-noef. E se la motchenn, mo plu vyeu piti gradue. E lannen apre sa, se la ye mele, le lekòl. … Working MP: Mo pa sèrvi en MICROPHONE èna lantan. TK: Petèt dipi mo te la dènyè fwa! MP: NO NO NO NO NO, mo travay mo ède ye (on) RADIO. TK: Wè?

MP: Mhm. Mo fe sa osi [laughs]. TK: Isit? Dan Chemen Nœf? MP: Uhuh, uhuh. Mo travay pou en stasyon, lantan pase. ANYWAY, kan ye——prèmyè stasyon ye ouvri isit, mo travay pou ye, mo travay dis o onz an. E la mo sòrti andan la, IN FACT me deu piti travay pou sa osi. E la, ye toujou pele mon pou ede. Apre mo te e travay an kèk-plas-dòt, ye toujou (pele mon) pou ede. E astœr-la zus sa mo fe, tanzantan, se de REMOTE BROACAST. … TK: E sa to fe isit, kote H.? MP: Nenpòt-ki ki gen pou èt fèt mo fe li. [Laughs.] TK: Me to gen en tit pou to djòb? MP: Non… [telephone rings] mo tchòb le liv. [There is an interruption as MP answers the telephone.] MP: Mon mo tchòb le liv. E… TK: Sa-fe to en kalite sekretèr o to plis ke sa, mo krwa. MP: [Pause] Non, mo bali me planche [both MP and TK laugh heartily]. Sa se sa mo fe leu myeu. [Laughs.] Li (pa… fe) tro byen jòdui-la mo balye (…). TK: Mo pa wa aryen. MP: Mo pa bale. Non, mo, mo OFFICE——HOW DO YOU SAY ‘OFFICE MANAGER’ THOUGH I CAN’T, I DON’T KNOW—— TK: Mo pa konnen. An kreyòl, mo pa konnen MP: WAIT, I, I’LL THINK ABOUT IT. TK: Me an meriken se sa ye pel twa. OFFICE MANAGER.

MP: [With resolution] Mo mènaj lofis. Se sa mo mo e. BUT, OF COURSE, mo pa enn pèrsòn ki fe zus enn chòz, paskeu mo fe toukèk-chòz. Mo kapab vann, mo kapab——èna pa aryen mo kapab ——mo peu pa fe. èna vent-senk an mo isit. Se konm motchenn plas, plus konm motchenn plas keu——Mo pons èna plen ki ja travay isit [laughs]. BUT, mo lenm mo djòb. Se pou sa mo stil la [laughs]. … MP: E, uhm, mo ja wa plen vini e kouri. Plen! [Laughs.] (Ennen d en tan) mo te konnen gen kèkœnn pou ede mo isit. Mo se montre ye tou sa ye te supoze konnen, e kan mo se fini montre ye, ye se parti. Apre, mo u mo UPDATE, mo COMPUTER, e tou le-z-afær, mo pa beuzwòn kèkœnn andan isit la mo [laughing] plu kantan travay mo tou-sœl. E to peu pa blanmen ye paskeu, mo pans (THE) sœl tan keu mo m a kite se kan m a mouri [laughs]. E ye te kònen——ye se ——(to konnen), pa foutu kouri plu o ke ye te, e ye te jœnn e ye te beuzwòn en meyeu djòb sa-fe ye se kite. Mon mo se montre ye toukè-chò ye se kou [laughing] travay kèkplas-dòt. BUT ye toujou vini bæk e parle e mon, ye vyen bæk e ye parle mon, s fe mo pans ye lenmen mon [laughs]. TK: [Laughs.] Me sa se bon, se sa-ki enpòrtan. MP: O wè. Wè. Language and Society in Former Times TK: Me kan——nou t ape parle pou Jaro. Dan tan pase, tou-mounn te parle kreyòl la? MP: Tou-l-mòn. ènave pa pærsòn ki te——tou-l-mòn ki reste la toujou ète la, ye te ne la, ye fanmiy te la avan ye, e sè te toujou—— se tou menm fanmiy-ye. Si to REAL——si to [pause] gad a le fanmiy, fròm——si to va petet trwa o kat, GENERATION, I DON’T KNOW WHAT ‘GENERATION’ IS IN FRENCH, I’D HAVE TO THINK ABOUT THAT.

TK: An franse ye di jenerasyon. MP: Jenerasyon. TK: Men mo pa konnen si se menm zafèr an kreyòl. MP: Trwa o kat jènèrasyon, se stil——t a trouve keu ye paran. Peutèt, kòm mo di twa, kat ou senk jènèrasyon. BUT, ye paran. TK: Wè. E to di tou-mounn te parle kreyòl. Mounn blan e mounn nwar tou te parle kreyòl? MP: O wè, o wè. Kan nouzòt nou te rèste la, o Jaro, mo toujou jwe avèk le nwar. Me vwazen te toujou nwar. Mo te gen de blan osi, BUT mo toujou jwe ave nwar. Nou te pa konnen la diferans, e sè te plen myeu (dan) tan pase. TK: èna plen mounn ki di mwen. Le nwar di mwen menm zafèr, (ki elve) on Lil. MP: Le nwar e le blan, ye te toujou ède œn-a-lòt. Ye ale byen ansanm. (Tou se toujou ède.) Mo èlve avèk ye, e mo kantan. Mo swatre metchenn piti e me gran-piti, te kapab èt èlve konm sa. Mo toujou swatre sa. TK: To krwa sè te plis kòm sa on Lil ke isit an la Fòs Rivyè? MP: Non. Mo krwa pa, sè te tou kòm sa, tou-l-mòn—— TK: Non mwen di sa paskeu mo krwa, dan vye tan pase petèt pa astè, se te isit ke ènave le gran bitasyon ave le blan ki te rich e le nwar ki te jis travay an bitasyon, e on Lil ènave plen MP: Ki travay pou ye. TK: blan pòv, e ki te fèrmye e ki travay pròch kòm le nwar. MP: E te parey. Wè, nou te parey. Nou te tou parey, men, to wa, (… sezla) ki te rich, ki te gen lez enbitasyon, ye toujou ale byen avèk le

nwar osit, la o mon mo rèste, ANYWAY. Ye ale byen e ye. Ye ede œn-a-lòt. Mòn ede œn-a-lòt dan ton-sa-la. Astœr mòn ed pa œn-alòt. Le blan ed pa œn-alòt. E se pa bon. Sè te myeu kòm nouzòt nou te èt——ète elve. Paskeu mòn lenmen œn-a-lòt. Mòn lenm pa œn-alòt konm ye te konnen lenm enn-a-lòt. èna plen ki ète pærd. TK: Wè. Ye gen plis larjan me ye gen mwens lòt chòz. MP: Ye pærd plen. Larjan se pa tou-kè-chò. TK: Non, se pa osi enpòrtan kè plen lòt chòz. MP: THAT’S RIGHT. O wè. TK: Kan to te jwe ave to vwazen ki te nwa, ye te pale mèm kreyòl ke twa? MP: Mèm kreyòl. TK: Sè te mèm zafè? MP: Wè, mhm. Mo trouve ye te parle mèm kreyòl e nouzòt myeu ke ye parl astœr-la, paskeu, mo trouv le nwar la pærd plen dan ye kreyòl, BUT, ye pa, me ye pa aprann langle kòm ye te supoze aprann langle. Sa-fe, mo trouv ye pærd, e sa-fe mo [pause], mo pa konnen sa, sa——I, LEMME SEE HOW, I CAN’T EXPLAIN THAT. SAD. IT MAKES YOU SAD TO THINK OF THAT. TK: Se tris, en? Tris? MP: Se tris, se me——wè, I CAN’T——I FORGET SOME OF MY WORDS. I DON’T SPEAK IT AS OFTEN. Men, ina ki-chò ki——nan plen ki ète pærd. TK: To krwa le nwar pèrd ye kreyòl plis ke le blan? MP: Wè. Ye pærd li plu vit. TK: Kofè?

MP: Paskeu ye voule fe ye-menm myeu. E ye krwaye sa se se fe ye myeu. Plen de fwa se sa ki ariv. Ena plen de blan ki a di twa astœrla, ki kapab pale kreyòl, ki a di, ‘O men monn a ri apre mon si mo parl kreyòl.’ O, ‘mo sa pa osi bon keu mo e si mo parl kreyòl.’ Pa mon. èna plen nouzòt kòm sa, ki res ki kòm sa. Mo krwa se myeu. Mo mo kapab parle deu angle [sic], ye ye veu pa ADMIT, ye veu pa di, keu ye kapab pale deu langle [sic]. TK: Kofè to krwa le blan te pa panse kòm sa, le blan te kontinye pale kreyòl e langle, me le nwar te krwa ‘Se move pou pale kreyòl, sa-fe nou gen jis pou pale meriken’? MP: Konm mon di twa, mo krwa ye te seye fe ye-menm myeu, e ye krwaye sa se se ede fe ye-menm myeu. TK: E to krwa le blan te pa gen menm lide, MP: Non. TK: ye te pa ponse parle——pi pale kreyòl sa fe mye. Ye te janmen ponse konm sa. MP: Non, mo krwa pa. èna en peu de blan ki krwaye kòm sa. ènen en peu de blan ki krwaye kòm sa. BUT inave pa ase pou ye kont, pou sa kont, to konnen. TK: Me ye te puni vouzòt a lekòl pou pale kreyòl? MP: Wè, ye se puni nouzòt… kan nou te tou piti. Se pa pou puni nouzòt, sè te pou èseye fe nouzòt apron langle. E kan to pa konnen langle byen, t a kòmanse pale kreyòl pseu (< paskeu) to kapab plu vit to te kapab pale plus. E, wè, ye——ye te pa tro dur òn nouzòt. Ye kòmprœnen. BUT ye t ap eseye ede nouzòt. Sè te puni twa pou ede twa. Se sa, to kònen, konm sa mo mo krwa——mo mo pròn li. TK: Mo kanpran, mo kanpran.

MP: OF COURSE, mo mo toujou krwaye keu nenpòt-ki ki seye ede mon le e ede mon pou motchenn byen. Mo pran pa aryen dutout mal. Mo esey pa pran aryen dtou mal. Mo eseye montre metchenn piti sa. E se kòm mo mo ete èlve, mo eseye elve metchenn piti kòm sa. … TK: Me dan vyeu tan pase, le nwar e le blan te pale——enave pa diferans dan kreyòl ye te pale, (sè te) mèm zafèr? MP: Non, mon mo trouve pa di——paskeu nou te toujou——nou ète elve ansanm, e nou tou parle parey. TK: E kreyòl Jaro sè te mèm kreyòl ye parl isit, sè te mèm kreyòl ye parl kote Oskar e Chnal? MP: Wè, sa. BUT, men kan to se arive MORGANZA, ou byen (…), la sè te tou diferan. Sè te tou diferan. No tou a lantour isi, no Chnal, Jaro, ènen en tan to te gen en POST OFFICE, e le POST OFFICE te ora. To te gen Jaro, to te gen DUPONT, to te gen VENTRESS, te gen CHENAL, te gen HERMITAGE, te gen Leklenn, sa sè te tou menm mòn ki parle parey. Men kòm mon di twa, (kan) to ariv MORGANZA, sè te tou diferan. Ye parle pa——ye ye parle plus fronse.21 … Living Rooms TK: èna en parol an kreyòl pou LIVING ROOM? MP: èn sal [sa:l]. AND I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SPELL THAT. Lantan pase, tou le mezon te gen——WELL, plen dan le mezon, pa tou le mezon——te gen enn sal. E pèson asi pa andan la paskeu ye se gen ye mènaj, ye bon mènaj e pèrsòn voule pa to——ye voule pa to sali mènaj—mènaj AS YOU KNOW IS FURNITURE——e ye se tchobo sa s——sè te pito pou to gard, pa pou to asit andan.… Se la verite——

TK: Non mo konne le moun jòdi kòm sa. Mo ja èt dan le mezon kòm sa, me mo gran-moma te kòm sa osi, li te gen so sal. Kote mo momon e mo popa sè te pròch kòm sa me ye te pa gen aryen an plastik, me mo granmèr li te gen sa. Li te gen, plastik an so di——so, kòmon to di sa? To—— MP: To sofa TK: to sofa, wèe MP: ta chèz. E to te peu pa kouri andan lan. Ben se vre, ‘Va pa andan lan! To kapab gard, va pa andan 1!’ E ina dumòn ki se pa sœlman leve le SHADE, ye se tchobo sa nwar andan lan. Ye se pa ouvri li. (Mo pons…) Mo konnen plen di mòn te konnen fe sa. TK: Ekan ye te sèrvi sa? Janmen? MP: Ye janmen sèrvi li! [Laughs.] Te la pou garde. TK: Me mo konpran pa kofè le moun gen sa. MP: Mo krwa se paskeu mòn te si tèlman pòv dan tan-sa-la, e si ye te gen kèchoz, sè te ki-chòz ye te kapab garde e di ye te gen, e ye te kapab montre sa kèkœnn. Petèt pou zus montre ye keu ‘Mo te kapab gen sa. Mo pòv BUT mo gen sa.’ Mo krwa se kòm sa plen di mòn te. … A Trip to Disney World [The telephone rings. It is MP’s daughter calling to tell her that she and her husband are planning to take their grandson (MP’s greatgrandson) on a surprise trip to Disney World. After she hangs up, MP explains the situation to me.] MP: THEY GONNA TAKE MY LITTLE GREAT-GRANDSON TO DISNEY WORLD. TK: OOO! THAT’S NICE!

MP: HE DOESN’T KNOW IT YET. HIS GRANDMA AND HIS GRANDPA WERE GOING TO——ye ape kouri SAVANNAH, GEORGIA, pou en miting.22 E SAVANNAH pa tro lwon, mo krwa se trwa o katr è DRIVE, FROM SAVANNAH TO DISNEY WORLD. E ye te pa gen mennen li, ye mennen li trwa smèn pase kan ye kouri an vakons, e ye te pa gen mennen li, ye chanje ye lide. "O non, ifo nou menn li. Ne e kouri mennen li DISNEY WORLD." E ye pa di li ankò, paskeu si ye se di li, li se janmen dòrmi yèr-o-swa! [Laughs, then continues, laughing] Li se janmen dòrmi yèr-oswa. Sa-fe ye a di li apre (ye… oto) ye di li. La, tou la rout 1 a di, "Nou la? Nou la? Nou la? èskeu nou ora?" [Laughs.] TK: Eou ye ye astèr? SAVANNAH? MP: Ye on Lil, ye on Lil. TK: O ye jus on Lil! MP: Ye pa parti ankò! [Laughs.] La ye tou travay. TK: Me ye ja pèle pou di twa eou ye ye. MP: Non, ye pele pou di ye e parti. O ye tou-l-tan pèl, ye pèl tou le swar, ye (p e pel) aswa mo di ye, "Pel pa aswa," [laughing] paskeu mo se e dòrmi kan ye a pele aswar. Mo krwa ye gen, uh, se katòz œr deu tan pou kouri DISNEY WORLD. Sa-fe ye gen kouri set œr deu tan jòrdui-1 e set œr deu tan deumen, sa-fe deumen ye a rive bonnœr deumen apre-midi sa-fe, deumen apre-midi 1 a wa DISNEY WORLD.… Li wa sa an TELEVISION, e li veu kouri DISNEY WORLD, men ye mennen li DISNEY WORLD [laughing]. Sa-fe kan ye a di li sa, li gen pou PROBABLY sote dan so SEAT! [Laughs.] Li sa si tèlman èksite. … Speaking Creole Today TK: To pal kreyòl ankò ave le mòn?

MP: Wè wè! Mo gen kouzen ki res ora mon, nou rès ora. E nou pal kreyòl tou-l-tan. Na dumòn ki di, ‘Kofè ouzòt parl kreyòl, ouzòt e pale an mon?’ [Laughs.] Nou abitue kòm sa. E, mo gen en kouzen, sotchenn frær, ki res ora ma fiy, ki res on Lil. E le deu fanmiy-sa-a, nou tou parl kreyòl. Nouzòt nou tou parl kreyòl. Nou parl kreyòl tou-ltan. TK: Mo te pa konnen ènave plen moun antòr isi ki pale kreyòl ansanm ankò. MP: Mhm. Nou te e parle kreyòl, mon e li, mo kouzen, nou te e kouri ——nou te dan LAS VEGAS, e nou parl kreyòl nenpòt-eou nou e, nou parl kreyòl (an) AIRPLANE moun gad twa e di, ‘Eou sa-ye sòr?’ Nou kouri IRELAND, nou kouri dan IRELAND ennen enn an. IN FACT lannen pase (…) nou te dan IRELAND, te dan DUBLIN. E nou t apeu23 pale kreyòl, èna deu-trwa mòn ki kòmprann nou te pale kreyòl, ye te pa foutu kòmprann nouzòt. BUT ANYWAY, nou te dan LAS VEGAS nou te den en CASINO, nou te den en [< dan en] tit chòp. Nou te achte de, SOUVENIR. E nou t ape pale kreyòl, AS THEY WOULD SAY FIFTY MILES AN HOUR. [Laughs.] E ènave deu fanm ki sòrte24 Kanada, e ye di, ‘O! Vouzòt e pale franse!’ Nou garde ye. Chanseu nou te pe e parle pou ye! [Laughs.] Nou di, ‘Non, nou pe e pale franse n e pale kreyòl!’ [Laughs heartily.] Me ye te kòmprann œn——ye kòmprann——.… To wa motchenn——nou tou ma fanmiy èksèpte mo gran-papa, mo gran-papa sòrti dan NEWFOUNDLAND. Li li te pa foutu parle kriyòl dutou, e li REALLY, te kapab konmprann li, me li janme pu parle. Li pale e nouzòt, nouzòt nou kanprœnen li, li li kanprœnen nouzòt. E mo GRANDMA, ma gran-mær, li li te pa foutu pale langle. E kèkœnn di, ‘Œnn te peu pa pale kreyòl, œnn te peu pa pale langle, ye te gen nœf piti (mo di) ye te pa beuzòn apron parle.’ [Laughs heartily.] Sa se nouzòtchèn JOKE. Me se vre. To wa sotchenn fanmiy, e lezòt, nouzòt kouzen, ki sòr, uh, mo gran-pær, uh, kote, ye ye pa rèste isit. Ennen enn parti ki kouri η ALEXANDRIA, ènen enn pati ki kouri dan Plakmin, (paskeu) ènave œnn dan le frèr, ye te trwa ki frèr ki vini, FROM NEWFOUNDLAND. èna œnn ki kouri Alegzandri œnn kouri dan PLAQUEMINE, e motchenn gran-pær vini isit. E le deuz òt fanmiy,

ye pa foutu parle kreyòl, o franse, dutou. Pa dutou. Se zus nouzòtchenn paskeu OF COURSE nouzòt gran-mær, e nou te tou franse, sa-fe, e nouzòt nou toujou reste isit. E ye ye se vini, kan nouzòt nou te tou piti, ye se vini kote ma gran-mær e mon gran-pær. OF COURSE nou te kapab bat, nou te kapab kontrarye avèk œnn-alòt, (…) bòn piti-lœ. BUT, œnn sè te franse e œnn sè te kreyòl. E, WHEN YOU LOOK AT THINGS LIKE THAT IT’S SO INTERESTING, YOU KNOW, BECAUSE YOU HAVE ONE SIDE OF THE FAMILY THAT CAN SPEAK ONLY ENGLISH AND ONE SIDE OF THE FAMILY——AND OF COURSE IT’S YOUR ROOTS TO WHERE YOU’RE LIVING AND WHERE YOU COME FROM. TK: Mhm, o wi, wè, wè. Me, ki laj to kouzen, li gen? MP: Li li trwaz an plu jœn ke mon. TK: Plu jœn? E li parl kreyòl kòm twa? MP: O wè nou tou, o wè se piti, se sœr e frè, tou nouzòt sœr e nouzòt frè-ye, nou tou parl kreyòl. Se motchenn, ply jœnn dan metchenn sœr, mo krwa li senkant-e-œnn, se senkant-œnn ou senkant-deu. E mo krwa plu jœnn dan sotchenn fanmiy, li deut apeupre karant-set ou karant-uit. E nou tou parl kreyòl. Me kòm mo di twa, nenpòt-eou nou va, nou parl kriyòl. Se FROM labitud, to wa, nou abitue pale avek enn-enn-òt, kreyòl. Nou a kouri NURSING HOME, e, dèpi n a kòmanse parle, se kreyòl, nou pa abitue pale langle avèk œnn-a-lòt. Nou zus pa abitue sa. … MP: Mo pèd œnn deu me frær, mo gen zus deu ki rès. E li li pèrd en frær, anden en, en en en rek,25 e li, œnn deu se piti, so plu jœn piti, i te gen vent-siz an——vent-katr an. Li li ète tue ON THANKSGIVING, an jour d THANKSGIVING. Kèkœnn frape li, li te e SPEED, li frape li THANKSGIVING DAY. Li te e vini kote li pou dinen. E la so frær, kèkœnn frape li dan Baton Rouj, i te den en JEEP, li te pa gen——to konnen en JEEP se zus lenj, se pa, STEEL. E li ète tue. Li li viv en ti mòman, so so piti ète tue, uhm, INSTANTLY. Li te tue drèt la. Li kase so kou. Li mouri drat la. E, ON THANKSGIVING

DAY, deuz an pase. Li te menm laj, sotchenn piti te menm laj ave œnn deu metchenn gran-piti. Ye kour lekòl tou (ye) vi ansanm, ye kouri kolèj ansanm, e li ète tue. Nou ja u, se tèlman de zafè ki arive nouzòt dèpi dennyè fwa to te isit. èna si tèlman, [pause], an dire sa aret pa. (Se) ma maman u kansær, li li mouri. Deuz an apre mo frær u kansær li li mouri, e mo papa, en mwa apre mo frær mouri, li tue limenm. Sotchenn piti ète tue, enn an apre, e so frèr ète tchwe (…) na pròch enn an. To kònen, to zus, to pœr tou-l-tan astœr-la. … TK: Me mo te pa konnen to gen sitan dan la fanmiy ki pal kreyòl. MP: O wè, nou tou parl kreyòl. Nou tou. Ina plen deu, dumonn ki vyen isit, nou tou parl kreyòl isit. TK: Wè?! MP: O wè. èna plen dumonn ki vyen isi nou parl kreyòl. … MP: Wè, ina plen dumonn ki parl kreyòl antour isit-la. TK: Se bon, mo te krwa sè te pròch fini. MP: [Laughs.] Non. TK: Me mo krwa èna pa deu jœnn ki ape aprann sa. MP: èna pa bokou deu jœnn, ye kanpran BUT ye parl pa THAT M ——ye pal pa, pal pa bokou. Ye pal pa bokou. (Interview continues with translation task.) Translation of "Growing up on the Island" TK: You can speak Creole. [Stated for confirmation.] MP: Yes I can speak Creole, if I can understand your Creole [laughs].

… TK: Where were you born and raised? MP: On the River, False River. A place called Jarreau. It’s a post office, it’s not a town, it’s nothing——(not) a village, it’s just a post office, it’s… about fifteen miles from here, and it’s just a, (there are) just families that live there. TK: But it’s on the Island. MP: On the Island. On the Island. I didn’t know you knew it was on the Island, there’s the Island and there’s False River and… the Island is on one side of the River, False River is on the other side. And that’s how people use to know where you came from, you(’d) say, "I’m from the Island." "What’s the Island?" [laughs]. [MP continues in English for some time.]… So it’s interesting, when you come from here and, in those days, there were people who didn’t even have cars. And you didn’t go anywhere except around your neighbors. Vwazen is neighbors, as you well know. And that’s all you saw, were your neighbors. You would come to New Roads. A little, not much, because you had the stores that were nearby, you didn’t have to go anywhere, the stores… where, where they had clothing, they had food, they had everything you needed. You didn’t have to go anywhere. TK: Were they plantations? MP: Yes. It use to be a plantation. And then after that they let people just rent a piece of land and they worked for themselves and paid rent, to the people who had the plantation because they didn’t have anyone who could work. [MP continues in English.] TK: Is there a word in Creole for that, a word for sharecroppers? Or ‘My daddy was a sharecropper’? How (would you) say that in Creole? No? MP: I’ve never heard it. I’ve never heard (it).

TK: There are people who talk about—— MP: It’s just——I——they use to say, "I’m a farmer. I’m a farmer. And I rent land from" whoever, from F. or H.… It belonged to them, the land. And like I said, they would rent it to different people, and I never heard a name for that. TK: There are people who talk about travaye on kar. Travaye on—— MP: There were people who used to travay an kar [sharecrop], yes. But my father never sharecropped, he always paid rent.… They would say, "You have to pay me a hundred dollars this year" or "two hundred dollars this year," whatever they talked about. But there were people who used to sharecrop, and there were lots of places, there are lots of pecans around here. There are lots of people who would rent land, but when they rented land they would say, "I want a fourth of the pecans," or "I want half of the pecans." The pecans didn’t come with the land, that was separate. TK: But travay an kar was like sharecropping. MP: Sharecrop. [Continues in English.] TK: Yes. And, can you tell me when you were born? MP: The year? TK: Yes. MP: Oh, uh [pause], nineteen thirty-one. I had to think about that [laughs] (…). Nineteen thirty-one, nineteen thirty-one. … MP: Yes. When we were born, no one spoke English. There wasn’t any—— there were a few who picked up a few words of English because they had some children who were older than I who went to school. But my family——I couldn’t speak English, I didn’t know English at all. I was the oldest in my family. I went to school and I

learned English and then my brothers and my sisters learned with me when they went. When we went to school, when I went to school, the first thing they had to make me learn was to speak English. Before they could teach me to write, or to count. … TK: And how many years did you go to school? MP: I went for eleven (years). I graduated. When I graduated, in forty-eight—— nineteen forty-eight I graduated——in nineteen fortynine there wasn’t any graduation here, so they could have twelve years of school. I went eleven. In my eleven I’m sure I got more education than some get in twelve and four years of college now. Because the school I went to, we had teachers who were excellent. TK: Where was it? MP: I went to school in Rougon. TK: And at that time, was Rougon just for whites or was it whites and Creoles…? MP: O yes. No, it was just (for) whites. TK: Just for whites. MP: All of the schools here were either just for whites or just for blacks, until nineteen sixty-nine. And that’s when my oldest child graduated. And the year after that, that’s when they integrated the schools. Translation of "Working" MP: I haven’t use a microphone for a long time. TK: Maybe since the last time I was here! MP: No no no no no, I worked, I helped them at the radio.

TK: Yes. MP: Mhm. I did that, too [laughs]. TK: Here? In New Roads? MP: Uhuh, uhuh. I worked for a station, a long time ago. Anyway, when they——the first station they opened here, I worked for them, I worked for ten or eleven years. And then I left there, in fact my two children work(ed?) for that, too. And then, they still call(ed?) me to help. After I’d been working at another place, they still (called me) to help. And now the only thing I do, from time to time, is remote broadcasts. … TK: And what do you do here, at H.’s? MP: Anything that needs to be done, I do it. [Laughs.] TK: Do you have a title for your job? MP: No… [telephone rings] I keep the books. [There is an interruption as MP answers the telephone.] MP: I keep the books. And… TK: So you’re kind of a secretary, or more than that, I think. MP: [Pause] No, I sweep my floors [both MP and TK laugh heartily]. That’s what I do the best. [Laughs.] It (hasn’t been done) too well today I sweep (…). TK: I don’t see anything (on the floor). MP: I didn’t sweep. No, I’m office——how do you say ‘Office manager’ though I can’t, I don’t know—— TK: I don’t know. In Creole, I don’t know.

MP: Wait, I’ll think about it. TK: But in English that’s what they call you. Office manager. MP: [With resolution] I manage the office. That’s what I am. But, of course, I’m not a person who does just one thing, because I do everything. I can do sales, I can——there’s nothing I can’t do. I’ve been here twenty-five years. It’s like my own place, more like my own place than——I think there are a lot of people who have worked here [i.e., in the time that I’ve been here] [laughs]. But I like my job. That’s why I’m still here [laughs]. … MP: I’ve seen many come and go. Many! [Laughs.] (There was a time when) I had someone to help me here. I would teach them everything they were supposed to know, and when I’d finished teaching them, they would leave. Afterwards, I got my update, my computer, and everything, I don’t need anyone in here, I’m [laughing] happier working alone. And you can’t blame them, because I think the only time that I’ll leave is when I die [laughs]. And they knew that they couldn’t go any higher than they were, and they were young and they needed a better job, so they would leave. I would teach them everything and they would [laughing] go work somewhere else. But they always came back and talked to me, they come back and talk to me, so I think they like me [laughs]. TK: [Laughs.] That’s good, that’s what’s important. MP: Oh yes, oh yes. Translation of "Language and Society in Former Times" TK: But when——We were talking about Jarreau. In the past, did everyone speak Creole there? MP: Everyone. There wasn’t anyone who was——everyone who lived there had always been there, they were born there, their family was there before them, and it was always——it’s all the same

families. If you real——if you look at the families, from——if you go back maybe three or four generations, I don’t know what ‘generation’ is in French, I’d have to think about that. TK: In French they say gènèration. MP: Gènèration. TK: But I don’t know if it’s the same thing in Creole. MP: Three or four generations, it’s still——you’ll find that they’re related. Maybe, like I told you, four or five generations. But, they’re related. TK: Yes. And you said everyone spoke Creole. White people and black people all spoke Creole? MP: Oh yes, oh yes. When we lived there, in Jarreau, I always played with the blacks. My neighbors were always blacks. I had whites, too, but I always played with blacks. We didn’t know the difference, and it was much better in the past. TK: There are lots of people who’ve told me (that). The blacks told me the same thing, (who were raised) on the Island. MP: The blacks and the whites, they always helped each other out. They got along well together. (Everyone always helped.) I was raised with them, and I’m glad. I wish my own children and my grandchildren could have been raised like that. I’ve always wished that. TK: Do you think it was more like that on the Island than here on False River? MP: No. I don’t think so, it was all like that, everyone—— TK: I say that because I think, in the past, maybe not now, it was here that there were the big plantations with the whites who were

rich and the blacks who just worked on the plantations, and on the Island there were many MP: Who worked for themselves. TK: poor whites, and who were farmers and who worked almost like the blacks. MP: It was the same. Yes, we were alike. We were all alike, but, you see, (those) who were rich, who had the plantations, they always got along well with the blacks, too, where I lived, anyway. They got along well with them. They helped each other out. People helped each other out in those days. Now people don’t help each other. Whites don’t help each other. And that’s not good. It was better the way we were raised. Because people loved each other. People don’t love each other like they used to love each other. There’s a lot that’s been lost. TK: Yes. They have more money but they have less of other things. MP: They’ve lost a lot. Money isn’t everything. TK: No, it’s not as important as lots of other things. MP: That’s right, oh yes. TK: When you played with your neighbors who were black, did they speak the same Creole as you? MP: Same Creole. TK: It was the same thing? MP: Yes, mhm. I found they spoke the same Creole with us better than they speak today, because, I find the blacks have lost much of their Creole, but, they didn’t learn English like they were supposed to learn English. So, I find they’ve lost, and it makes me [pause], I don’t know, it——I, let me see how, I can’t explain that. Sad. It makes you sad to think of that.

TK: It’s tris, isn’t it? Tris? MP: It’s sad, it’s——yes, I can’t——I forget some of my words. I don’t speak as often. But, there’s something that——there’s a lot that’s been lost. TK: Do you think the blacks have lost their Creole more than the whites? MP: Yes. They’ve lost it more quickly. TK: Why? MP: Because they wanted to better themselves. And they believed that would make them better. Lots of times that’s what happens. There are lots of whites who’ll tell you now, who can speak Creole, who will say, "Oh, but people will laugh at me if I speak Creole." Or, "I won’t be as good as I am if I speak Creole." Not me. There are lots of us like that, who are left who are like that. I think it’s better. I can speak two Englishes [i.e., languages], they don’t want to admit, they don’t want to say that they can speak two Englishes [languages]. TK: Why do you think the whites didn’t think like that, the whites continued to speak Creole and English, but the blacks thought, "It’s bad to speak Creole, so we have to just speak English"? MP: Like I told you, I think they were trying to better themselves, and they thought that would help make them better. TK: And you think the whites didn’t have the same attitude, MP: No. TK: they didn’t think speaking——not speaking Creole anymore would make (them) better. They never thought like that. MP: No, I don’t think so. There are a few whites who thought like that. There are a few whites who thought like that. But there weren’t enough for them to count, for it to count, you know.

TK: But did they punish you in school for speaking Creole? MP: Yes, they would punish us… when we were very little. It wasn’t to punish us, it was to try to make us learn English. And when you don’t know English well, you’ll start speaking Creole because you can (speak it) faster, you could speak more. And, yes, they——they weren’t too hard on us. They understood. But they were trying to help us. It was punishing you to help you. That’s what, you know, what I think——(how) I take it. TK: I understand, I understand. MP: Of course, I always thought that anyone who tried to help me was helping me for my own good. I don’t take anything in a bad way. I try not to take anything in a bad way. I tried to teach my own children that. And that’s how I was raised, I tried to raise my own children like that. … TK: But a long time ago, the whites and the blacks spoke——there wasn’t any difference in the Creole they spoke, (it was) the same thing? MP: No, I didn’t find it di——because we were always——we were raised together, and we all talked alike. TK: And the Creole of Jarreau was the same Creole they speak here, it was the same Creole they speak in Oscar and Chenal? MP: Yes. But when you’d get to Morganza or (…), there it was altogether different. It was altogether different. All of us around here, in Chenal, Jarreau, there was a time when you had a post office, and the post office was nearby. You had Jarreau, you had Dupont, you had Ventress, Chenal, Hermitage, Lakeland, those were all the same people who spoke the same way. But like I told you, when you got to Morganza, it was altogether different. They didn’t speak——they spoke more French.

Translation of "Living Rooms" TK: Is there a word in Creole for ‘living room’? MP: En sal. And I don’t know how to spell that. A long time ago all houses had——well, lots of houses, not all houses——had a living room. And no one sat in there because they would have their furniture, their good furniture and no one wanted you to——they didn’t want you to dirty the furniture——mènaj as you know is ‘furniture’——and they would keep that——it was more to look at, not for you to sit in.… That’s the truth—— TK: I know people today like that. I’ve been in houses like that, but my grandmother was like that, too, she had her living room. At my mother’s and father’s it was almost like that but they didn’t have anything in plastic, but my grandmother had that. She had plastic on her——her, how do you say that? Your—— MP: Your sofa TK: Your sofa, yes. MP: and your chair. And you couldn’t go in there. Well that’s true, "Don’t go in there! You can look, (but) don’t go in there!" And there are people who wouldn’t even open the blinds, they would keep it dark in there. They wouldn’t open it. (I think…) I know lots of people who did that. TK: When did they use it? Never? MP: They never used it! [Laughs.] (It) was there to look at. TK: But I don’t understand why people have that. MP: I think it’s because people were so poor at that time, and if they had something, it was something they could keep and say they had, and they could show it to someone. Maybe just to show them that "I was able to get this. I’m poor but I have this." I think that’s how lots of

people were. … Translation of "A Trip to Disney World" [The telephone rings.…] MP: They’re gonna take my little great-grandson to Disney World. TK: Ooo! That’s nice! MP: He doesn’t know it yet. His grandma and his grandpa were going to they’re going to Savannah, Georgia, for a meeting. And Savannah isn’t too far, I think it’s a three- or four-hour drive, from Savannah to Disney World. And they weren’t going to take him, they took him three weeks ago when they went on vacation, and they weren’t going to take him, they changed their minds. "Oh no, we have to take him. We’re going to take him to Disney World." And they haven’t told him yet, because if they had told him, he never would have slept last night! [Laughs, then continues, laughing] He never would have slept last night. So they’re going to tell him after (they’re in the car) they’ll tell him. Then, the whole trip he’ll say, "Are we there? Are we there? Are we there? Are we close?" [Laughs.] TK: Where are they now? MP: They’re on the Island, they’re on the Island. TK: Oh, they’re just on the Island. MP: They haven’t left yet! [Laughs.] Now they’re all working. TK: But they already called you to tell you where they are. MP: No, they called to say they’re leaving. Oh they call all the time, they call every night. They (won’t call) tonight, I told them, "Don’t call tonight," [laughing] because I’ll be sleeping when they call tonight. I think they have, it’s fourteen hours to go to Disney World. So they have to go seven hours today and seven hours tomorrow, so

tomorrow they’ll arrive early tomorrow afternoon so, tomorrow afternoon he’ll see Disney World.… He saw that on television, and he wants to go to Disney World, but they took him to Disney World [laughing]. So when they tell him that, he’ll probably jump in (out of?) his seat! [Laughs.] He’ll be so excited. … Translation of "Speaking Creole Today" TK: Do you still speak Creole with people? MP: Yes, yes! I have a cousin who lives near me, we live close to each other. And we speak Creole all the time. There are people who say, "Why do you speak Creole, are you talking about me?" [Laughs.] We’re used to it. And I have a cousin, his brother, who lives near my daughter, who lives on the Island. And those two families, we all speak Creole. We all speak Creole. We speak Creole all the time. TK: I didn’t know there were lots of people around here who still spoke Creole together. MP: Mhm. We were speaking Creole, me and him, my cousin, we were going——we were in Las Vegas, and we speak Creole wherever we are, we speak Creole on airplanes, people look at you and say, "Where do those people come from?" We went to Ireland, we went to Ireland a year ago. In fact, last year (…) we were in Ireland, in Dublin. And we were speaking Creole, there were a few people who understood we were speaking Creole, they couldn’t understand us. But anyway, we were in Las Vegas, we were in a casino, we were in a little shop. We were buying souvenirs. And we were speaking Creole, as they would say, fifty miles an hour. [Laughs.] And there were two women who were from Canada, and they said, "Oh! You’re speaking French!" We looked at them. Good thing we weren’t talking about them! [Laughs.] We said, "No, we’re not speaking French, we’re speaking Creole! [Laughs heartily.] But they understood one——they understood——.… You see my——all of us in my family except my grandfather, my grandfather came from

Newfoundland. He couldn’t speak Creole at all, and he really, could understand it, but he never could speak. He spoke to us, we understood him, he understood us. And my grandma, she couldn’t speak English. And someone said, "One couldn’t speak Creole, one couldn’t speak English, they had nine children (I said) they didn’t need to learn to speak." [Laughs heartily.] That’s our own joke. But it’s true. You see his family, and the others, our cousins (on my grandfather’s side?), they didn’t stay here. There was one part that went to Alexandria, there was one part that went to Plaquemine, because there was one of the brothers, they were three who were brothers who came from Newfoundland. There was one who went to Alexandria, one went to Plaquemine, and my grandfather came here. And the two other families, they couldn’t speak Creole, or French, at all. Not at all. It’s just us because of course (of) our grandmother, and we were all French, so, and we all have always lived here. And they use to come, when we were very little, they would come to my grandmother’s and grandfather’s. Of course we could fight, we could argue with each other, (…) group of children. But one was French and one was Creole. And, when you look at things like that it’s so interesting, you know, because you have one side of the family that can speak only English and one side of the family——and of course it’s your roots to where you’re living and where you come from. TK: Mhm, oh yes, yes, yes. But, how old is your cousin? MP: He’s three years younger than I am. TK: Younger? And he speaks Creole like you? MP: Oh yes, all of us, oh yes his children, his sister(s) and brother(s), all of our sisters and brothers, we all speak Creole. It’s my, the youngest of my sisters, I think she’s fifty-one, it’s fifty-one or fifty-two. And I think the youngest in his family, (s)he must be about forty-seven or forty-eight. And we all speak Creole. But like I told you, wherever we go, we speak Creole. It’s from habit, you see, we’re used to speaking with each other, Creole. We’ll go to the nursing home, and, from the moment we start talking, it’s Creole, we’re not used to speaking English with each other. We’re just not

used to it. … MP: I lost one of my brothers, I just have two left. And he lost a brother, in a wreck, and one of his children, his youngest child, he was twenty-six—— twenty-four. He was killed on Thanksgiving, on Thanksgiving Day. Someone hit him, he was speeding, he hit him on Thanksgiving Day. He was coming to his house for dinner. And then his brother, someone hit him in Baton Rouge, he was in a Jeep, he didn’t have——you know a Jeep is just cloth, it’s not steel. And he was killed. He lived a little while, his child was killed instantly. He was killed right there. He broke his neck. He died right there. And, on Thanksgiving Day, two years ago. He was the same age, his child was the same age as one of my grandchildren. They went to school all their lives together, they went to college together, and he was killed. We’ve had, there are so many things that happened to us since the last time you were here. They are so many, [pause], it seems like it doesn’t stop. My mother had cancer, she died. Two years later my brother had cancer, he died, and my father, a month after my brother died, he killed himself. His child was killed, one year afterward, and his brother was killed (…) about a year ago. You know, you just, you’re always afraid now. … TK: But I didn’t know you had so many in the family who speak Creole. MP: Oh yes, we all speak Creole. All of us. There are lots of people who come here, we all speak Creole here. TK: Yes?! MP: Oh yes. There are lots of people who come here, we speak Creole. … MP: Yes, there are lots of people who speak Creole around here.

TK: That’s good, I thought it was nearly finished. MP: [Laughs.] No. TK: But I think there aren’t any young people who are learning it. MP: There aren’t many young people, they understand but they don’t speak that m——they don’t speak, they don’t speak much. They don’t speak much.

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Glossary Following is a list of all the Pointe Coupee Creole terms contained in the preceding study, along with their attested variants and references to the pages in the text where they occur or are discussed. Page numbers for pages where the word is discussed are set in boldface type. Some very common words occur dozens of times in the text. In such cases, one of two practices has been adopted: only the pages on which the word is the subject of discussion are provided, or only the pages of its first few occurrences are indicated, followed by ‘etc’ Variants are ordered alphabetically, with the following exceptions: (1) full forms are listed before shortened forms, e.g. koute, kout ‘listen’; to, t ‘you’; and (2) variants that are clearly rare or exceptional are listed after more common variants. Variants that differ only in having a high-mid vowel versus a low-mid vowel (e [e] versus è [ε] or o [o] versus ò [ɔ]) are not listed separately.1 For more thorough inventories of the Louisiana Creole lexicon, see Klingler (1992) and especially Valdman et al. (1998). Guide to Abbreviations adj. ‘adjective’ emph. pron. ‘emphatic pronoun’ adv. ‘adverb’ exist. v. ‘existenial verb’ aux. v. ‘auxiliary verb’ impers. v. ‘impersonal verb’ card. num. ‘cardinal number’ indef. adj. ‘indefinite adjective’ conj. ‘conjunction’ indef. det. ‘indefinite determiner’ conj. phr. ‘conjunction phrase’ indef. pron. ‘indefinite pronoun’ cop. v. ‘copular verb’ inter. adj. ‘interrogative adjective’ def. det. ‘definite determiner’ inter. adv. ‘interrogative adverb’ emph. det. ‘emphatic determiner’ inter. part. ‘interrogative particle’ inter. pron. ‘interrogative poss. pron. ‘possessive pronoun’ pronoun’ interj. ‘interjection’ prep. ‘preposition’

intr. v. ‘intransitive verb’ n. ‘noun’ n. phr. ‘nominal phrase’ neg. ‘negative’ ord. num. ‘ordinal number’ past part. ‘past participle’ poss. det. ‘possessive determiner’

prop. n. ‘proper noun’ quant. adv. ‘quantifying adverb’ quant. det. ‘quantifying determiner’ refl. pron. ‘reflexive pronoun’ tr. v. ‘transitive verb’ v. ‘verb’2 v. phr. ‘verbal phrase’

A a (prep.) ‘at, to’ 357–58; in possessive: 30, 34–35, 39, 42–43, 84, 188–89, 361 a preverbal marker of future tense (see also sa) 26, 45, 62–63, 210, 257, 258–60 a (postnominal def. det.) (see la [postnominal def. det.]) a (adv.) (see la [adv.]) a (adv.) (see aou [adv.]) aben, ben (interj.) ‘well’ abitan (see labitan) abitchwe* (NH), abitue* (MP), abitwe (aux. v./adj.) ‘be used to’ 283, 506, 507 abiye, biye (tr. v./adj.) ‘dress, get dressed; dressed’ 347 (la)ach, (la)hach, lach* (LD) (n.) ‘ax’ 145, 356 ache (tr. v.) ‘chop, chop off’ 382 achi (see asi)

achte, ajèt (tr. v.) ‘buy’ 119, 179, 182, 189, 200, 201, 205, 228, 230, 237–42, 244, etc. a drwat (adv.) ‘right, to the right’ 156, 344, 366 a fòs (adv.) ‘so much, so many’ 350, 360 a gòch (adv.) ‘left, to the left’ 156, 344 ajounou* [aʒũnũ] (AS) (intr. v.) ‘kneel, get down on one’s knees’ 388 a kote (prep.) ‘on the side of’ 388 akòz (rare) (conj.) ‘because’ 370 aksèpte* (YC) (v.) ‘accept’ 437 aksidan* (FL), aksidon* (JL) (n.) ‘accident’ 227, 316, 341 a la men, ave la men, e la men (adv.) ‘by hand, manually’ 155, 253, 338, 348, 376 a lantour* (MP), a lontour* (ME), an lantour* (NI), an rantour* (GL) (prep.) (see other variants at a lantour isi* [ML]) ‘around, near’; (adv.) ‘around here’ 261, 345, 359, 471, 499 a lantour isi* (MP), an lantour isi* (ML), an lòtour isit* (KN), anotour isit* (GL), annotour isit* (GL), antour isi* (GL), lantour isit (adv.) ‘around here’ 499, 508, 509, 345 Abeka* (LD) (prop. n.) ‘Rebecca’(?) 224 adrese* (NF) (tr. v.) ‘address’ 175 ale (intr. v.) ‘go’ 260, 324, 379, 499, 502 ale, al* (LD), hal* (AR) (tr. v.) ‘pull; carry, haul’ 123, 150, 214, 244, 254, 257, 274, 275, 297, 312, 338, 345, 360, 368, 390, 408

Alegzandri* (MP) (prop. n.) ‘Alexandria (city in Louisiana)’ 507 Alèksi* (AS) (prop. n.) ‘Alexis’ 256 a mizi, a mizur* (AS), an mzur* (KP) (conj.) ‘as, while’ 368, 390 amuzman (see lamizman) an, on (n.) ‘year’ (see also lannen) 263, 308, 411, 464, 467, 469, 500, 501, 507, 508 an (postnominal def. det.) (see la [postnominal def. det.]) an, on, onn (prep.) ‘on, in, from, off, out of, with, of 357, 358, 361, 362; ‘about’ (in the expression parle on ‘talk about someone’); 207, 506 ‘over’ (in the expression parle on ‘to speak over someone or something,’ a common practice in folk healing rituals) 390, 391 anba, anmba, onba (adv.) ‘under, down’; ‘downstairs’; 116, 150, 156, 253, 301, 314, 344, 377, 382, 380, 388, 468 anba lekò ‘on, down the bank’ 253, 314 anbetan (adj.) ‘bothersome, (be) a nuisance’ 390 anbete, anmbete, anbet, onbet* (GL) (tr./intr. v.) ‘bother, disturb’; ‘mess around with, bother with’ 238, 241, 242, 256, 283, 313, 324, 355, 398 an bòr isit, o bor isit* (AS), bòr isi (adv.) ‘on this side, here, over here’; (prep.) ‘on this side of’ 156, 208, 344, 351, 358 an bout (see o bout) andan, anndan, ondan, ondon, onndon, enndan* (KS), nda* (IL), ndan* (FV) (adv./ prep.) ‘in, inside; from, out of; of, among’ (see also la-don) 344, 358, 360, 363 an dariyen* (EC), an darinyen* (EC), an dèrnyen* (LD), on dœryen* (LD) (adv.) ‘lately, recently’ 342

an deyò* (LD) (prep.) ‘out of’ 358 an dire, on dire (v. phr.) ‘it seems’ 172, 248, 308, 338, 341, 507 anfan-d-gas!, fan-d-gas! (interj.) ‘son of a bitch!’ 155, 356 angle, anngle, langle, ongle (n./adj.) ‘English’ 121, 122, 146, 237, 275, 325, 362, 464, 470, 500, 503, 506, 507 anho, an-o, an-on* (JL), anwo* (JL) (adv.) ‘up, upstairs’; (prep.) ‘above, on’ 153, 344, 358 ankò, onkò* (GL) (adv.)‘again, still’(see also pi… ankò) 335 an kote (prep.) ‘On the side (of)’ 360 an lanvè* (AS), lanvè* (ID) (adv.) ‘over; back’ 173, 344, 391 anlon* (LD), olanng* (LD), olon* (LD) (prep.) ‘by, along’ 359 an lòt kote (see lòt kote) anmœ, anmèr (conj.) (see ormi) anmbwat* (AS) (intr. v.?) ‘limp’(?) 391 anmè (adj.) ‘bitter’ 289 anmèrde* (NH), anmèd* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘bother, disturb’ 202, 289 annaryè* (LD, ML), annceryè (ML), onnaryè* (LD) (adv.) ‘backward’ 348; ‘in back*’ (LD) 348; ‘ago’* (LD) 335 annavon* (LD), onnavon* (LD) (prep.) ‘in front of, ahead of’ 356, 359 anne (see lannen) anon (marker of 1 pl. imperative) ‘let’s’ 212, 314–15; anon di, anon dizon* (LD) ‘let’s say, let’s suppose’ 248, 280, 294, 314–15; anon wa

‘let’s see’ an prèmyen* (LD), on prèmyè, on prenmyen* (LD), on preumye* (ME) (adv.) ‘earlier, before, formerly; at first’ 342, 440, 468 an riflon* (AS), o riflon* (LD) (prep.) ‘near, at the level of 286–87, 359 ansanm, ansonm, asanm* (NF) (adv.) ‘together’ 349 (asanm 408– 09) ant (adj./n.) (see hont) antere, antœr (see tere) antour, antou* (ME), otour* (LD) (prep.) ‘around’ (see also a lantour) 261, 357, 359, 379, 380, 471, 508 antre, ant (prep.) ‘between, among’ 363, 365, 428, 439 antre, ontre* (YC), antr* (NF), annt* (FV) (intr. v.) ‘enter, go into’ 274, 410, 436, 479, 480, 496, 497 anvan, anvon (see avan) anvan-yèr, anvon-yè (see avan-yè) anvi (aux. v.) ‘want’ 277 anvye* (NH) (adj.) ‘envious’ 307 anwo (see anho) ao, aou, eou (rare), ou (inter. adv.) ‘where’ 333; (adv.) ‘wherever’ 240; (rel pron.) ‘where, wherever’ 230–31 aout, aout (n.) ‘August’ 291, 356, 357 ape, ap Preverbal marker of progressive aspect (see also e) 26, 161, 202, 236, 255–58, 264, 265, 297, 317, 429, 502, 504, 505, 506, 508

a penn* (AS) (adv.) ‘barley’ 351 apèpre* (NH), apeupre, apre, apreprè* (LD), apreupre* (KS), pre* (FG) (adv.) ‘approximately, about, around’ 227, 281, 308, 312, 337, 351, 355, 366, 376, 498, 507 apran* (GL), aprann, apronn, apròn, aponn* (ME) (tr. v.) ‘learn’ 122, 192, 204, 207, 220, 223, 241, 274, etc. apre, aprè (adv.) ‘after, afterwards’ 335; (conj.) ‘after’ 369 apre (prep.) ‘on, from, to, at, after’ 357, 359 apre-dmen (adv.) ‘the day after tomorrow’ 336 apre-midi, lapre-midi (adv.) ‘afternoon, in the afternoon; evening, in the evening’ 257, 282, 336, 343, 476, 506 arache (see rache) arete, aret, rete (tr./intr. v.) ‘stop’ 207, 240, 242, 336, 337, 390, 391, 407, 467, 474, 476, 477, 507 ariko (see zariko) arive, ariv* (MP) (tr./intr. v.) ‘happen’ 227, 316, 324, 331, 341, 377, 503, 507 arive ‘arrive, come’ (see rive) armen (see pwason) arpan, arpon* (ME), ærpan, narpan* (AS) (n.) ‘arpent’ 472, 488 arpase (see pase [tr. v.]) aryen, aryan* (NH), pa aryen (adv./indef. pron.) ‘nothing; anything’ (rare) 224, 325–26, 353

asanm (see ansanm) ase (adv.) ‘enough’ 149, 189, 281, 285, 295, 351, 404, 409, 411, 415, 430, 436, 441, 468, 503 asi, achi* (NF), asir (intr. v.) ‘sit’ 119, 174, 238, 247, 254, etc. astœ, astœr* (JL), astè, astèr, astœ* (JL), astœr* (MP, KN) (adv.) ‘now; these days’ 336 aswa, aswar* (MP), aswò* (KN) (adv.) ‘tonight’ 207, 278, 329, 336– 337, 382, 505, 506 atan (see tann [v.]) a travè (adv./prep.) ‘over, across, through’ 344, 360, 366 avan, avon, anvan, anvon, òvan, ovan, onvon (adv./conj.) ‘before’ 335, 368 avan-midi, lavan-midi (n.) ‘morning’ 336, 337, 357 avan-yè, avant-yè* (ML), avon-yè, anvan-yèr* (FE), anvon-yè* (ID) (adv.) ‘the day before yesterday’ 335, 357 ave* (tr. v., imperfect) ‘had’ (see also gen and u) 116, 118, 138, 279 ave, avek, avèt* (GL), e, ek* (BD) (prep.) ‘with’; (conj.) ‘and’ 361, 363, 364 ave la men (see a la men) avon-jou* (ND), onvon-jou* (NH), van-jou* (AS) (adv.) ‘in the morning’ 337 avri (n.) ‘April’ 293 Æ

œr (see è) (la)œs, (la)hœs (n.) ‘harrow’ 163, 164, 168, 195, 197, 329 B ba, bas* (ME) (adv./adj.) ‘low; short’ 203, 345,; bas klas* (ME) ‘low class’ 472, 203 babin (n.) ‘lip’ 201 bagas, bagay* (AS), bagaz* (AS) (n.) ‘bagasse’ 145, 242, 294 bal (n.) ‘cotton bale’ 151, 368, 471 bal (n.) ‘dance, ball 246, 304, 379, 383, 402–03, 440–41, 471, 474 balans (n.) ‘swing’ 146 bale (n.) ‘broom, broomcorn’ 245 bal tanmbou, bal tonmbou (n.) ‘drum dance’ 14, 172, 382–84 balye, bale* (MP), bali (MP) (tr./intr. v.) ‘sweep’ 501 ban, bon (n.) ‘pew’ 119, 277, 408, 469 ban (adj.) (see bon) banann (n.) ‘banana’ 403 bangou* (ML), banngou, banngo* (AS), bàngo* (AS) (n.) ‘any kind of tall weed (or plant?)’ 145, 146 bann, bòn* (MP) (n.) ‘group’ 290, 345, 507 barbi, barbu (n.) ‘catfish’ 309, 355 bari (n.) ‘barrel’ 132, 164, 168, 174, 210, 238, 244, 254, 298, 384, 388, 405

(la)baryœ, (la)baryè (n.) ‘fence’ 309 bas (see ba) bat (tr. v.) ‘fight; beat’ 132, 144, 206, 217, 228, 235, 249, etc. bata* (ME) (n.) "‘bastard," person having one black and one white parent’ 472 Batan Rouj, Baton Rouj (prop. n.) ‘Baton Rouge’ 171, 343, 356, 468, 469, 471, 475, 477, 478, 507 batay (n.) ‘fight, battle’ (see also pete en batay) 222, 286, 307, 339, 379, 384 bati (tr. v.) ‘build’ 164, 468 batis (n.) ‘building’ 345, 389 batistè (n.) ‘baptismal register’ 365 batize (tr. v.) ‘baptize, baptized’ 440, 469 bato (n.) ‘boat’ 168, 204, 232, 409 bavade* (CM), bavad* (NH) (intr. v.) ‘chat’ 340 baye (archaic) (tr. v.) ‘give’ 87–88 bayou (n.) ‘bayou’; Bayou la Kòm Chevrey (prop. n.) ‘Buckhorn Bayou’ 347 bœbtis, bœptis (n./adj.) ‘Baptist, the Baptist denomination’ 86, 149, 204, 215, 274, 366, 407, 436, 437, 439, 440 bœk (adv.) ‘back’ 132, 149, 206, 208, 211, 241, 259, 285, 288, 344, 345, 366, 368, 379, 383, 388, 411, 501 bœrsez, bœsez, bèsez* (NI) (n.) ‘rocking chair’ 149, 336

bebe (n.) ‘baby’ 262, 430, 431 bef (n.) ‘ox, steer’ (see also [la]po) 164, 168, 170, 178, 236, 244, 396 ben, byen (adv.) ‘well, good; very’ 43, 239, 304, 349, 407 ben (interj.) (see aben) benn, bennd* (KS) (n.) ‘musical band’ 182, 383, 473, 475, 476 bengnwa (n.) ‘bathtub’ 146 benyen, benyè* (FV), bengnen* (MP) (v.) ‘bathe’ 152, 258, 304, 344, 432 bet (adj.) ‘dumb’ 314, 468 betay (n.) ‘animal, livestock; insect’ 210, 309, 365, 379, 380 bezòn, bèzon* (LD), bezonn, bezann* (OL), bezwen* (ME), bezwenn* (FV), bezwonn* (GL), beuzòn, beuzwòn* (MP), bizòn* (NH), bizwen* (ME), bizòn* (NH) (tr. v./aux. v.) ‘need, have to’ 138, 192, 210, 229, 279–80, 316, 322, 397, 438, 443, 469, 470, 471, 499, 501, 506 (La)bib (n.) ‘Bible’ 436 (la)bib (n.) ‘barbels on a catfish’ 298 bich, buch (n.) ‘log, firewood’ 116 bije, blije (aux. v.) ‘must, have to’ 280, 309, 322, 345, 427, 438 la bil (n.) ‘bile’ 315, 334 bimen (tr. v.) ‘hit, strike, beat’ 132, 164, 244, 432 bin (n.) ‘bean’ 197, 201, 320

bin preverbal marker of past tense 207, 262–63, 395 birwèt (n.) (see bourwèt) biskwi (n.) ‘biscuit’ 148, 205, 307, 321 bit (n.) ‘hill’ 291 (la)bitasyon, enbitasyon* (MP), lenvitasyon* (MP) (n.) ‘plantation’ 168, 199, 279, 499, 502 biye (see abiye) biznis (n.) ‘business’ 336, 365, 435, 477 bizòn, bizwen (see bezòn) (la)blag (n.) ‘bladder’ 145 blan, blon (adj./n.) ‘white; white person’ blanchi (tr. v.) ‘whitewash’ 247 blanmen* (MP) (tr. v.) ‘blame’ 501 blese, blès (tr. v.) ‘wound’ 32, 224, 226, 262, 317, 324, 384 blije (see bije) bliv* (NF) (intr. v.) ‘believe’ 186 bliye, oubliye* (KS), bliy (tr. v.) ‘forget’ 66, 243, 261, 285, 325, 339, 340, 384, 429, 468, 476 blofe (tr. v.) ‘trick, fool; tricked, fooled’ 409 blòk (n.) ‘large quantity (e.g., of material, butter, etc.); block, large piece of wood’ 362, 371, 431

blonn* (ME) (adj.) ‘blond’ 466 bobo (n.) ‘sore’ 144, 172, 287, 311 bo-fis (n.) ‘son-in-law’ (see also jan) 155 boflo* (LD) (n.) ‘buffalo fish’ 226 bo-frè (n.) ‘brother-in-law’ 348, 466 bokou, boukou (quant, det/adv.) ‘much, many, a lot; very’ 193, 351, 403, 409, 427, 442, 499, 508 bokou (indef. pron.) ‘many’ 223–24, 404, 416 bòl (n.) ‘bowl’ 350, 366 bo-maten, bon-maten, bo-mæten* (ML) (adv.) ‘this morning; early in the morning’ 377 bon, ban, bonn (rare fern, form) (adj.) ‘good; right’ 171, 201 bon (n.) (see ban [n.]) bòn (see bann) bon laj (n.) ‘advanced age, old age’ 200 bon lenj (n.) ‘good clothes, Sunday clothes’ 84, 189, 361 bonæ, bonè, bonnè, bonnær* (MP) (adv.) ‘earl/ 288, 253, 278, 280, 314, 337, 340, 367, 506 Bondje, Bondjeu, Bondjyeu* (YC), Bondyeu* (ID) (prop, n.) ‘God’ 246, 367, 412, 427, 435, 437, 439 bonjou, banjou (interj.) ‘hello, good day’ 321 bo-pè (n.) ‘father-in-law’ 155

bòr isi (see an bòr isi) bòs, gro bòs (n.) ‘landlord; boss, superintendant’ 192, 222, 362 bòs, boste (tr. v.) ‘break’ 187 la bou (n.) ‘mud’ 194, 299 (la)bouch (n.) ‘mouth’lll, 163, 172, 187, 347, 428 bouche (tr. v.) ‘plug, fill in’ 405 bouchon (n.) ‘cork; bob for fishing’ 160, 388 bouden (n.) ‘boudin’ (type of sausage popular in Louisiana) 236, 353 boug (n.) ‘guy’ 31, 33, 34, 183, 192, 196, 200, etc. boui, bouir* (GL), bouy, bwi (tr. v.) ‘boil’ 150, 204, 205, 210, 253, 288, 396, 397 bouiwa, bwiwa, bwiwar (n.) ‘boiler’ 242 boujannè* (FV), boujònen* (FV), boujonnen* (OL), bourjonnen* (LD) (n.) ‘sprout, bud’ 145, 296 la boukann (n.) ‘smoke’ 242 bouke (n.) ‘flower’ 138, 229, 238, 282, 292, 345, 359 bouldou* (NF), bouldouz, bouldoz (n.) ‘bulldozer’ 405 bouldou* (NF) (tr. v.) ‘bulldoze’ 405 bourbe (adj.) ‘muddy’ 205, 279, 316 boure (n.) ‘bourrée (card game)’ 339 bourwèt, binvèt* (FV) (n.) ‘wheelbarrow’ 168, 274

bout (n.) ‘piece, bit; end’ (see also o bout) 132, 156, 196, 222, 230, 262, 286, 346, 358, 359, 361, 376, 377, 384, 389, 395, 398; en bout (adv.) ‘a ways, a short distance’ 346, 369; bout ton ‘a while’ 338; en bon bout ‘a good while, a long time’ 338 boutey (n.) ‘bottle’ 364 boutik (n.) ‘store’ 179, 201, 395 bra (n.) ‘arm’ 166, 241, 390 branch (n.) ‘branch’ 371 brase (tr. v.) ‘stir’ 370 brav (adj.) ‘brave’ 297, 314 bréchtinen* (AS), brèchtin* (AS) (tr. v.) ‘place a breast chain on a draft animal’ 359 brègnon* (NC), brignon* (NC) (n.) ‘nectarine’ 146 bren (n.) ‘bit’; en ti bren (quant, det.) ‘a little, a little bit’ 196, 207, 244, 259, 275, 313, 352, 383, 388, 396, 397, 411, 465, 499 bren (adj.) ‘brown, dark’ 352, 466 brik (n.) ‘brick’ 308, 345, 361, 389 brile, brule, bril, brul (tr./intr. v.) ‘burn’ 146, 232, 233, 242, 243, 314, 397, 413 (la)brds (n.) ‘brush’ 163, 205, 254, 354, 364 brose (tr. v.) ‘brush’ 210, 254, 354, 364 buch (see bich) bwa (tr. v.) ‘drink’ 175, 186, 196, 207, 209, 211, 235, 248, etc.

bwa (n.) (see dibwa) bwa kolye (see kolye) bwat (n.) ‘box’ 255, 379, 380 bwate, bwete* (FV) (intr. v.) ‘limp’ 330, 332, 390, 391 bwi (see boui) bwiwa, bwiwar (see bouiwa) la byè (n.) ‘beer’ 277, 283, 352 byen* (MP) (n.) ‘good’ (attested in the expression pou motchenn byen ‘for my own good’) 504 byen (adv.) (see ben) C cha, char (n.) ‘car’ 232, 238, 240, 321, 346, 358, 360, 404, 415, 416, 473; ‘train’ 218, 224, 337, 345 la chach, la chas (n.) ‘hunt, hunting’ 210, 230 chache, charche, chèche* (LD), chèrche* (KS), chærche, chach* (AS), chærch (tr. v.) ‘go get, fetch; look for’ 177, 241, 243, 245, 253, 257, 382, 388–391, 431 chak (quant, det.) ‘each’ 192–93, 366, 376 chaken (indef. pron.) ‘each one, every one’ 233 chonchon (n.) ‘song’ 86, 215, 413 chanje, chonje (tr. v.) ‘change’119, 296, 297, 342, 369, 410, 469; chanje so lide ‘change one’s mind’ 157, 437, 505

chanje, chonje (tr./intr. v.) ‘dress (someone); get dressed’ 347, 432, 457; tou chanje ‘all dressed up’ (la)chanm, (la)chonm (n.) ‘room; bedroom’ 163, 189, 223, 231, 289, 356, 379, 380, 475 (la)chans, (la)chanch (n.) ‘luck; chance, opportunity’ 193, 201, 237, 292, 327, 370, 398, 413 chanseu* (MP), chonse* (NF) (adj./adv.) lucky, fortunate; luckily, fortunately; it (is, was) a good thing that’ 506 chante, chant* (GL) (tr./intr. v.) ‘sing’ 118, 145, 171, 173, 174, 182, 275, 284, 344, 413, 431, 432 chapo (n.) ‘hat’ 205, 379, 380 charet, charèt (n.) ‘cart’ 431 chart, charu (n.) ‘plow’ 204, 222, 240, 350, 356 charje (tr. v.) ‘charge’ 389 Charlòt* (AS) (prop, n.) ‘Charlotte’ 329 charpontye* (LD), charpantye, sarpantye* (AS), chapontye* (ME), charpon* (ME) (n.) ‘carpenter; carpentry’ 239, 471 la chas (see la chach) chat (n.) ‘cat’ 170, 177, 276, 289, 290 chawe (n.) ‘raccoon’ 177 chè (n.) ‘dear’ (term of endearment) 239, 263, 283 che (adj.) ‘expensive’ 397 (la)chè, (la)chèr* (JL) (n.) ‘flesh of a fruit’ 433

chèche, chèch (tr. v./intr. v./adj.) ‘dry 288 (la)chèj, cheuj* (RD), cheuch* (RD), (la)chij* (ID) (n.) ‘chair’ 150, 378–80 chek (n.) (see tchek) chemen, chenmen, cheumen, chmen (n.) ‘road’ 182, 205, 242; Chemen Nef, Chmen Nef, Chmen Neuf* (MP) (prop, n.) ‘New Roads’ 178, 196, 297, 334, 407, 428, 431, 441, 499; Chèmen Fals Rivyè* (LD) (prop, n.) ‘False River Road’ 366 (la)chèn, (la)chenn (n.) ‘chain’ 162, 163 (la)chér (see [la]chè) cheri* (NH) (n.) ‘dear’ (term of endearment) 211 cheve, chèvè, chèvæ* (ID), cheuveu, chveu, chfeu* (MP) (n.) ‘hair’ 187, 206, 217, 359, 466 chevret, chevrèt (n.) ‘shrimp’ 164, 178, 239, 353, 367, 369, 396 chevrey (n.) ‘deer’ (see bayou) chfal (see chval) chiko (n.) ‘sugar cane stubble’ 168, 205, 280, 286, 287, 318, 327, 359 chikro (see sikro) chimnen (n.) ‘fireplace; chimney’ 199, 290 chinen, chinè* (NF) (tr./intr. v.) ‘win’ 182, 210, 232, 242, 258, 278, 321, 323, 334, 340, 367, 370, 389 chiviy* (FG), chviy* (FN), chwiy* (GE) (n.) ‘dowel’ 247

Chnal (prop, n.) ‘Chenal’ 289, 346, 377, 504 cho (adj.) ‘hot’ 197, 231, 288, 354, 382 chodjœ, chodjè, chodjèr* (JL), chodjyè, chodjyèr* (JL), chodyè, chodè* (FV), sodjè* (NI) (n.) ‘pan, pot’ 348, 359, 397 chofe, chòf(\x. v.) ‘heat’ 116, 132, 287, 318, 383, 384 chòj, chòz (n.) (rare outside of compounds) ‘thing’ (see also dòt, gran-chòj, kèk-chò, ki-chò, nenpòt-ki, tou-kè-chò) 122, 204, 292, 382, 376, 500, 501 chon (rare) (n.) ‘field’ 308 chonje (see chanje) chonse (see chanseu) (de)chou, chou* (ML) (n.) ‘cabbage’ 167, 253, 367 choupik (n.) ‘mudfish, bowfin’ (Read 1963, 88: ‘bowfin’) 309, 355, 405 chovaj, chovay, chovaz* (ME) (n.) ‘Indian’ 192, 195, 466 chval, chfal, chwal (n.) ‘horse’ 88, 161, 170, 177, 199, 202, etc. chval djab (n.) kind of plant (species unidentified); Read [(1931) 1963, 25] glosses this as ‘Praying Mantid’ 197, 320 chveu (see cheve) chwini [∫wni], [∫wĩnĩ], chouwini* (AS) (n.) ‘jack harrow’ 195, 197, 329, 346 chyen (n.) ‘dog’ 157, 170, 173, 177, 178, etc. chyendan (n.) ‘couch grass’ 229

D d (prep.) (see de [prep.]) da, dar (n.) ‘spear used for fishing’ 406 dad, dat (n.) ‘sore’ 339 dan, don* (LD) (n.) ‘tooth, teeth’ 36, 165, 187, 195, 318, 329, 438 dan, don, den (before en), da* (AS), nan* (LD) (prep.) ‘in, on; from, out of 333, 375, 360, 362, 363 danbwa, danmbwa (n.) ‘woods, swamp’ 199, 307, 368, 390 danjerè, danjeurè* (FV) (adj.) ‘dangerous’ (see also donje) 205, 391 dan l tan, dan s tan, dan s tan-la, dan s tan-sa, dan s tan-sa-la, dan tan-la, dan tan-sa-la, dan tan-sa-ye* (RD), dan le tan-sa-la (also ton) (adv.) ‘at that time, in those days’ 119, 123, 172, 182, 184, 193, 201, 254, 277, 288, 299, 311, 312, 323, 336-38, etc.; dan lantan pase* (KN) ‘a long time ago’ 338 dan pase, dan tan pase (adv.) ‘in the past’ 338 (la)dans, (la)dons (n.) ‘dance’ 163, 293, 294, 309, 346, 365, 475, 476 dansè, dansær* (ID) (n.) ‘dancer’ 290, 291, 328, 441 danse, donse, dans, dons* (YC) (v.) ‘dance’ 230, 258, 274, 286, 290, 328, 366, 380, 383, 384, 402, 436, 439, 440, 441, 473, 474 dar (see da) darde (tr. v.) ‘catch a fish with a spear’ 406 dat (see dad) dariyen, darinyen, dæryen (see an dariyen)

daryè* (LD), dæryè, dèryè (prep./adv.) ‘behind’ 345, 360 dæriyè* (JL), dèryè* (JL) (adv.) ‘in the past’ 338, 434 dæryè, dèryè (n.) ‘buttocks, behind’ dæryèmon* (LD), dènyèmon* (NF) (adv.) ‘lately, recently’ 203, 338– 39 de, le (pl. indef./def. det.) ‘the, some’ 172, 174–77 de (n.) ‘dice’ de (n.) ‘thimble’ 398 de, deu, di, d (prep.) ‘of 155, 356–57 de, deu; dez, deuz* (MP) (before a vowel) (card, num.) ‘two’ 197–98 de-an-trwa (see de-o-trwa) debat (refl. v.) ‘manage, get along’ 210, 306 debouche (tr. v.) ‘uncork’ 388 debout, debou* (LD), dibout (intr. v./adj.) ‘stand, stand up; standing’ 222, 249, 299, 235, 245, 404, 415, 469 dechire (tr. v.) ‘tear’ 346 dechou (see [de]chou) defev (n.) ‘field pea’ (see also fev plat) 171, 210, 444 defig (n.) ‘fig’ 154, 167, 282, 403 defwa, le fwa* (ID), ena de fwa, enon de fwa* (GL), ena le fwa, enon le fwa* (GL), ina de fwa* (NF), na defwa (adv.) ‘sometimes’ 123, 196, 259, 286, 307, 339, 354, 371, 384, 390, 405, 408, 427, 434

degan* (ID) (n.) ‘glove’ 171 dego (prop, n.) ‘Italian’ 179, 345 degonfle (intr. v.) ‘go down (of swelling)’ 390, 391 dègre (n.) ‘degree’ 204, 280, 356 dehanche, deanche* (JD) (tr. v.) ‘dislocate a joint’ 253 deja, dja, ja, za (adv.) ‘already’ 339–40 dejennen, dejæennen* (FV) (n.) ‘breakfast’ 151, 153 dejire* (ID), dejure* (MP), dezire* (LD, JL) (v.) ‘digest’ 276 dekann, dekonn, dekòn* (FG), dikann, dikonn, dukann* (FV), le kann* (LD), le konn* (LD) (n.) ‘sugar cane’ (see also kouto) 167, 182, 209, 211, 217, etc. deklinen (intr. v.) ‘wane’ (of the moon) 335 deklou (n.) ‘nail’ 167, 168, 262, 391 deklou (n.) ‘boil’ 341 dekouraje* (LD) (tr. v.) ‘discourage’ 314, 372 delanm (n.) ‘wave’ 352 delivre (tr. v.) ‘deliver’ 204, 205 delò (see dolo) delod (tr. v.) ‘unload’ 284 demannde (see mande)

demen, dœtnen, deumen* (MP) (rare) (adv.) ‘tomorrow’ 199, 220, 260, 288, 337, 339, 368, 391, 596 demenaje (intr. v.) ‘move’ 231, 340 demi, demir* (ML) (n.) ‘berry, blackberry’ 167, 208, 209, 309, 352, 362, 364; deminwa ‘blackberry’ 162 demlan, demlon, demnan (n.) ‘watermelon’ 167 demokrat (n./adj.) ‘Democrat’ 223, 409, 411 demonje* (ML), demanj* (FV) (intr. v.) ‘itch’ 221 demouch (n.) ‘fly’ 167 deòmv* (ID), (k)mòv (n.) ‘mauve’ 288 den (prep.) (see dan) dèn, denn* (ME) (adv.) ‘then’ 281, 364, 383, 384, 410, 431, 441, 467, 475 denn (n.) ‘turkey’ 177 dènyèmon (see dæryèmon) dènyen, dènyè, dennyè* (MP), dennyen* (FL), denryen* (OL) dèrnyè* (AS), dèryen* (LD) (adj./ord. num.) ‘last’ (see also an dariyen) 205, 320, 467, 507

,

de-o-trwa, de-an-trwa, de-trwa, deu-trwa, deu-ou-trwa* (MP) (quant, det.) ‘a few’ 121, 196, 307, 338, 500, 506 depan, depon (v.) ‘depend’ 207, 230, 246, 333 (la)depans, (la)depons* (LD) (n.) ‘pantry’ 162–64, 254, 364

depèch, pèch* (ML) (n.) ‘peach’; depèch-komin ‘clingstone peach’ 152, 157, 162, 174, 182 depi, dipt* (NF) (prep./conj.) ‘since; as long as, provided’ 246, 276, 356, 357, 369, 372, 407, 412, 441, 464, 466, 477, 507 depis (n.) ‘flea’ 167 depòm, deponm (n.) ‘apple’ 167, 403 deprim, deprum, deprin, prin* (n.) ‘plum’ 152, 167, 175, 326 depwa, depwar (n.) ‘pear’ 167, 308, 433, 451 derik (n.) ‘derrick’ 312, 326, 360 dèrnyè, dèryen (see dènyen) dèryè (n.) (see dæryè) dèryè (prep./adv.) (see daryè) desann, desan* (AS) (intr. v.) ‘go down; get down, get off’ 249, 288, 314, 345, 475 desi, desu, dèsur* (FN), disi* (LD), disu* (FN) (adv./prep.) ‘on, on top of, over’ 345, 360, 366 deside, desipe* (NH) (intr. v./refl. v.) ‘decide, make up one’s mind’ 304, 379 dèsik (see disik) dèskrèsyon* (NH) (n.) ‘discretion’ (?) 304 dèt (cop. v.) (see èt) de-trwa (see de-o-trwa)

deu (prep.) (see de, etc. [prep.]) deu (card, num.) (see de, etc. [card, num.]) deu-trwa (see de-o-trwa) deumen (see demen) deut, deuvrèt (èt), dwèt* (MP), dwa èt (aux./cop. v.) ‘must be’ 200, 281–82, 297, 507 deuvre, devreu (see dwat [aux. v.]) deuz (see de [card, num.]) devan, devon, deuvan (prep./adv.) ‘in front, in front of; ‘ahead’ 37, 345, 365, 378, 379, 390, 391, 434, 475, 476 devè (n.) ‘worm’ 167, 325, 405 deyò, diyò* (NI) (adv.) Outside’ 207, 286, 346, 358, 359, 384, 434 dez (see de [card, num.]) dezè, dezæ, dezèr* (JL) (n.) ‘field’ 172, 197, 283, 309, 312, 314, 340, 353, 365, 427, 433 dezèj, dezæf, nef* (ID) zef* (ID) (n.) ‘egg’; dezæf la kou* (NI) ‘yard eggs’ 167, 435, 179, 201, 434 dezire (see dejire) dèzkè* (ID) (conj.) ‘as soon as’ 369 dezo (n.) ‘bone’ 167 dezòt (indef. adj.) ‘other’ 203 dezwit (n.) Oyster’ 164, 167

dèzyèm, dezyenm (ord. num.) ‘second’ 205, 347, 434 di (tr. v.) ‘say’ (see also an dire and anon di) 248, 313–14 di, dis, diz (before a vowel) (card. num.) ‘ten’ 197–98, 203, 289, 308, 312, 413, 501 di, dir, du* (YC), dur (adj./adv.) ‘difficult, hard’ 163, 182, 259, 287, 309, 310, 349, 369, 396, 434, 439, 504 dibè, dibèr* (NH) (n.) ‘butter’166, 362 dibout (see debout) dibri* (NI) (n.) ‘debris’ 253, 323 dibwa, dubwa, bwa (rare) (n.) ‘tree; wood; woods, swamp’ 116, 165, 166, 171, 181, etc. dife, difeu* (YC), dufe* (GL), dufeu (n.) ‘fire’; limen dije ‘light a fire’; fe dife ‘make a fire’ 116, 143, 166, 196, 383, 397, 434 diferan, diferon, diferons* (GS) (indef. adj.) ‘different; various’ 204, 236, 278, 307, 499, 504 (la) diferans (n.) ‘difference’ 174, 197, 502 difil, dufil* (FV) (n.) ‘thread’ 166, 398 difwon (n.) ‘hay’ 166 diji, duju, jiji* (FV)juju* (FV) (n.) ‘juice’ 166, 247, 256, 361, 369 dikann, dikonn (see dekann) dikap (see kap) dikwiv* (FV) (n.) ‘brass’ 166

dile, dule* (ML) (n.) ‘milk’ 166, 256 dilon* (LD), dulon* (LD) (adv.) ‘along’; tou dilon* (LD) (adv.) ‘all along’ 346, 377 dimanch, dimonch (n.) ‘Sunday’ 132, 236, 357, 441, 470, 476 dimero (n.) ‘number’ 284 dinen (n.) ‘lunch’ 261, 312, 342, 370, 474, 507 dipen (n.) ‘bread; loaf of bread’ 151, 166, 334, 365, 439 diplan (dekann), diplon, duplan (n.) ‘plant cane, seed cane’ 166, 280, 310, 318, 327 dipwav, dipwòv (n.) ‘pepper’ 244, 339, 363 dir (adj.) (see di [adj./adv.]) dire (intr. v.) ‘last’ 321, 341 dire (v.) (see an dire) diri diru, duri, duru (n.) ‘rice’ 86, 150, 164, 166, etc. dis (see di [card. num.]) disab (n.) ‘sand’ 166 disan, dison, dusan* (MP) (n.) ‘blood’ 166, 174, 177, 260, 258, 367, 368, 388, 390 disel, disèl (n.) ‘salt’ 146, 166, 244, 254, 339, 363, 439 di-set, di-sèt (card, num.) ‘seventeen’ 197 disi (see desi)

disik, disikr, disuk* (AS), dusuk, dèsik* (LD), suk* (LD) (n.) ‘sugar’ 166, 182, 193, 244, 294, 360, 363, 389 disik, disik dan disan (n.) ‘diabetes’ 367 dispare, disparet (intr. v.) ‘disappear’ 183, 325, 384 disu (see desi) dite (n.) ‘tea’ 144, 204; dite la flè siro ‘elderberry blossom tea’ 169, 196 ditou, dutou, dtou (used with pa and aryen) (adv.) ‘(not, nothing) at all’ 123, 192, 202, 208, 212, 217, 226, 258, 275, 284, 307, 325, 328, 351, etc. divan, divon* (LD), duvan* (BD) (n.) ‘wind’ 153, 154, 164, 166 diven, duven (n.) ‘wine’ 166, 277, 282, 362 divre (see dwat [aux. v.]) diyò (see deyò) diz (see di [card. num.]) diz-næf, diz-nef, diz-næf (card. num.) ‘nineteen’ 197, 198; in dates: diz-nèf-san-dis* (FV) ‘1917’ 203; diz-næf-san-trez* (JL) ‘1913’ 149; diz-næf-trant-e-æn* (MP) ‘1931’ 497, 500; diz-nœf-karant-uit* (MP) ‘1948’ 500; diz-nœf-karant-nœf (MP) ‘1949’ 500; diz-næf-swasantnœf (MP) ‘1969’ 500 diz-uit, diz-yuit (card. num.) ‘eighteen’ 147, 197, 198, 468 dja (adv.) (see deja) dja, ja* (ML), jar* (KN) (n.) ‘jar’ 321, 397 djab (see chval djab)

(la)djel (n.) ‘mouth’ 145 djèp, gep (n.) ‘wasp’ 331 djich, jich, jis, jiz* (NF),;ji* (NV), juch, jucht* (KS), jus, just* (KS), ich, is* (GL), uch, yich* (KS), yuch, zis* (NF) (adv.) ‘only, just’ 352 djòb (n.) ‘job’ 197, 329, 353, 410, 501 djòg (n.) ‘jug’ 199, 388, 390 djounya (n.) ‘junior (farm implement)’ 195, 318, 346 dmi (adj.) ‘half in the expression e dmi ‘and a half 411; ‘(one, two, three, etc.) thirty’ (time) 198 do (n.) ‘back’ 42, 43, 167, 239, 286, 389 do (adv.) ‘though’ 290, 328, 397, 410, 438 doktæ, doktè (n.) ‘doctor’ 63, 86, 177, 193, 215, 239, etc. dolo, dèlo* (ID), dio (rare) (n.) ‘water’ 118, 167, 173, 1 96, 205, etc. dolo ho (n.) ‘high water, flood’ 390 don (n.) (see dan [n.]) don (prep.) (see dan [prep.]) done (rare), dònè (rare), dòn, donn (tr. v.) ‘give’ 30, 86, 249, 288; don tete ‘nurse (a baby)’ 431, 449 donje* (JL) ‘danger’ 444 (la)dons (see [la]dans) donse, dons (see danse)

dòrmi, dourmi* (FV), dòr (intr. v.) ‘sleep’ 235, 241, 245, 258, 277, 282, 324, 329, 389, 437, 475, 505 dot* (LD) (indef. pron.) ‘others’ 224; (adj.) ‘else’ (see also kek-plas, kekenn, nul pa) 329, 339, 384, 501; dòt-chòj* (LD), dòt-chòz* (LD) (indef. pron.) ‘other things’ 224, 353 dou (adj.) ‘sweet’ 289, 354 doulè, doulæ* (JL) (n.) ‘pain’ 262, 323, 438 dous (see patat dous) dousman, dousmon (adj./adv.) ‘slow, slowly; softly’ 289, 291, 321, 349, 354 douz (card. num.) ‘twelve’ 197, 219, 328, 411, 500 (la)drag (n.) ‘drag line for fishing’ 167, 291 drage (v.) ‘fish with a drag line’ 167, 341 draiv (tr. v.) ‘drive’ 404, 416 drat, drit* (NI), drwat, dwat, dwa* (EC) (adv.) ‘right, just, exactly’ 244, 294, 295, 345, 346, 360, 384, 390, 391, 410, 507 drese* (FV) (tr. v.) ‘straighten, put upright’ 266 dròl (adj./adv.) ‘funny, strange; in a funny or strange way’ 321, 349, 405 drwat (n./adj.) ‘right’ 221, 344; a drwat ‘right, to the right’ 156, 344, 366 drwat (adj./adv.) ‘straight’ 207, 217, 244, 319, 359, 368, 390 drwat (aux. v.) (see dwat) dtou (see ditou)

du* (YC) (adj.) (see di [adj./adv.]) dubwa (see dibwa) dufe, dufeu (see dije) dufil (see difil) duju (see diji) dukann (see dekann and kouto) dule (see dile) dulon (see dilon) dur (see di [adj./adv.]) duri (see diri) dusan (see disan) dusuk (see disik) dutou (see ditou) duvan (see divan) duven (see diven) dwa (tr. v.) ‘owe’ 312, 334 dwa (n.) ‘finger’ 65, 174, 187, 325, 398; dwa-chyen (rare) ‘index finger’ (see also tidwa) 294 dwat, dwa* (NF), drwat* (NI), deuvre, deuvreu, divre (aux. v.) ‘must, ought to’ 200, 281–82, 296, 297 dwat, dwa (adv.) (see drat [adv.])

dwèt (see deut) E e (prep./conj.) (see ave) e (cop. v.) (see èt) e, en* (GL) preverbal marker of progressive aspect (see also ape, ap) 255–58; future marker in the negative 257–58, 259, 324–25 è, èr, œr (n.) ‘hour’ (used in telling time) 171, 177, 198, 236, 357, 475, 505, 506; enn-è, dèz-è, etc. ‘one o’clock, two o’clock,’ etc. 171, 198, 236, 357, 475;parè ‘by the hour’ (see also lè) 177 ede, hede* (BD), ed (tr. v.) ‘help, help out’ è de tan, oer deu dan* (MP), nè de ton* (ND) (n. phr.) ‘hour’ (senk nè de ton ‘five hours’) 506 eg, heg* (AS) (adj.) ‘sour’ 288, 298, 354 ek (see ave) ekal (see lekay) ekan, ekon (inter. adv.) ‘when’ 296, 334 ekri (tr. v.) ‘write’ 122, 217, 221, 248, 253, 255, 274, 364, 383, 468, 500 èksèpte* (MP), sèpte, eksèp* (MP), sep* (GL) (prep.) ‘except’ 184, 328, 499, 506 èhite* (MP) (adj.) ‘excited’ 506 èkspoze* (JL), èspoze* (JL), poze* (YC) (tr. v.) ‘display the body at a funeral’ 426, 432, 450

èhprèsyon* (KN) ‘expression’ 347 èl (3 sg. fern, pron.) (rare) ‘she’ (see li and il) e la men (see a la men) ele, hele, el (intr. v.) ‘cry, shout’ 255n39, 228 eleksyon* (AS) (n.) ‘election’ 307, 316, 389 èlve, elve, èleve* (NF), elev (tr. v.) ‘raise (crops, livestock, children, etc.)’ 148, 165, 177, 178, 196, 219, 235n3, 239, 243, etc. en? (inter. part.) ‘eh?’ 87, 123, 164, 195, 200, etc. en preverbal marker (see e) en, enn, èn, in* (AS), æn (indef. det.) ‘a, an’ 171–72 en, enn, æn, ænn* (MP) (card. num.) ‘one’ 197 ena, enan, enæ, enen, enna, ennæ* (ND), ennan, ennen* (ND), enon* (GL), ina, inan, inon* (GL), na, nan (exist, v.) ‘there is, are; ago’ (see also y ena) 307–08; enave, ennave, inave, nave (exist. v.) ‘there was, were’ 308 èn-a-lòt, enn-a-lòt, n-a-lòt* (MP), ænn-a-lòt* (MP), enn-enn-òt* (MP) (reciprocal pron.) ‘each other, one another’ 220, 278, 283, 305, 383, 384, 428, 434, 502, 507 enbitasyon (see [la]bitasyon) èn fwa (conj.) Once’ 258, 308, 369 ènrni* (NF) ennemi ‘enemy; enemies’ 314 enn, æn* (ID), ænn* (MP) (indef. pron.) ‘one’ (see also pa enn) 218– 19

enndan (see andan) enngjèkte* (JL) (tr. v.) ‘inject’ 287, 311 ensilte* (FV) (tr. v.) ‘insult’ 368 entere (n.) ‘interest’ 188, 195 enterese* (MP) (adj.) ‘interesting’ 499 en ti bren (see bren) eou (see ao) epe (adj.) ‘thick’ 307 epi, epwi (conj.) ‘and, and then’ 132, 173, 196, 220, 226, 239, 287, 288, 363, 364–65, 391, 439 èr (see è) erite* (NC) (tr. v.) ‘inherit’ 363 eseye, esey (see seye) èskè, èskeu* (MP), esk* (KN) (inter, adv.) introduces ‘yes/no’ questions. 211, 218, 221, 329, 363, 368, 505 èsklavaj (see lèsklavaj) èspere* (KN, LD), èspèr* (FE, LD), èspè* (LD), spè* (LD) (intr. v.) ‘wait’; éspérpou ‘wait for’ (see also tann [v.]) 353n122 ésplike, fe èsplike* (ID) (tr. v.) ‘explain’ 287, 349 èspoze (see èkspoze) èstanne, èstannen, èstònè, èstonnen (adv.) ‘this year’ 182, 315, 318, 340

òt, ete, òte, ite* (EC), dòl* (KP), e* (cop. v.) (see also ye [cop. v.]) ‘be’ 31, 119, 66n51, 200, 213, 221, 247n22, 281, 282, 296–97, 302, 314, 317, 337, 350, 359, 360, 402, 411, 436, 437, 443, 499, 501–04, 507, 508 etoufe (see toufe) etranje* (NH) (n.) ‘stranger’ 362 F (la)fal (n.) ‘wattle; gizzard’ 149 fale, i fale (aux. v., past tense) ‘it was necessary, I (you, we, etc.) had to’ (see also ifo) 119, 122, 277, 310, 500 Fals Rivyè (see la Fòs Rivyè) fam, fanm, fonm, fòm (n.) ‘woman’ 152, 177, 179, 196, 197, 199– 202, etc.; (pejorative) ‘unmarried woman who has sexual relations with a man’ 195, 277, 327, 333; ‘wife, bride’ 472, 288, 312, 318, 329, 338, 356, 389 fami, fanmi, fanmiy, fonmiy (n.) ‘family’ 43, 122, 212, 318, 356, etc. fan-d-gas (see anfan-d-gas) fann (tr. v.) ‘cut, split’ 239, 249, 287, 307, 311 farin (n.) ‘flour’; farin mayi ‘corn flour’ 162, 237, 244, 259, 287, 396, 397, 439 farouch (adj.) ‘wild; upset’ 380 fas (n.) ‘joke’383; fe fas ‘tell jokes’ 201, 284, 323 fcermè* (FV), fcermen* (AS), firmè* (FV), frèmen* (ID), frenmen, frenm* (NF) (tr. v.) ‘close, closed’ 152, 243, 288, 328, 365, 413

færmye* (MP) ‘farmer’ 292, 499 fe (tr. v.) ‘reach, become (a certain age)’ 341, 478, 495 fè, fèr, fer* (GE) (n.) ‘iron’ (for clothing) 119, 296 fe, fe, fèt (rare), fan* (ME), fen* (JL) (tr. v.) ‘make, do’ 247; in causatives: ‘make (someone) do (something)’ 66n51, 122, 209, 221, 262, 276, 287, 288, 311, 321, 333, 343, 382, 383, 410, 439, 468, 500, 503; fe larjan ‘make money’ 403;fe li ‘make it, get along, succeed’ 192, 210, 211, 278, 279; fe rekòt, fe rekòl ‘raise crops’ 188, 211, 321, 326, 388;fe (en, so) (la)priyè ‘pray, say (a, one’s) prayer(s)’ 164, 362, 390, 391, 407, 413;fe la kous* (FG) ‘race, run a race’ 199;fe konmpran, fe wa, fe èsplike* (ID) ‘explain’ 287, 349, 464; fe tansyon ‘be careful, pay attention’ (see tansyon) 321, 367;fe la diferans* (FV) ‘tell the difference’ 174;fe mal, fe di mal* (NF) ‘hurt’ 228, 256, 370, 430;fe cho ‘(be) hot’ 231;fe fre ‘be cold’ 207, 231 (see also pè [intr. v./tr. v./adj.] and sa-ki fe) fib (adj.) ‘weak’ 289 femèl (see fimeyl) fe-mye, fe-myé, fe-myœ* (NH), fo-mye (aux. v.) ‘had better, ought to’ 282 fen (intr. v./adj.) ‘be hungry’ 151, 253, 289, 340, 341, 350, 354 fen (adj.) ‘fine’ 371 (la)fenet (see [la]fnet]) fèr, fœ* (FV), fè(n.) ‘church fair’ 337, 408 fet (n.) ‘birthday’ 357 fèt (see pa fèt)

fev plat, defev plat, feuv plat* (LD) (n.) ‘butter beans’ 145, 171, 210, 321, 444 fevi (n.) ‘okra’ (see also gòmbo) 178, 196, 313, 371, 396, 443, 444 fèvriye (n.) ‘February’ 477 (le)fey, (le)fèy (n.) ‘leaf 147, 154, 165, 193, 197, 199, 290, 292, 309, 320 (le)féy torchon (see torchon) fid (n.) ‘(animal) feed’ 353 fi-d-gas* (AS), fi-de-gas* (AS) (n.) ‘son of a bitch’ 202, 356 fifole (n.) ‘will-o’-the-wisp’ 177, 192, 201, 323, 362, 382, 383 fige, figye (n.) ‘fig tree’ 294 (la)figi, figir* (ML), figur* (JD) (n.) ‘face’ 163, 164, 253, 330, 363, 389 file (n.) ‘filé: powdered sassafras leaves used to thicken gumbo’ (see gòmbo file) file* (DG, KN) (n.) ‘shot’ (of alcohol) 389, 390 file (n.) ‘string’ 298 file (tr. v.) ‘thread’ (a needle) 161 file (intr. v.) ‘grow on, along’ (said of a vine) 359 fimen [fim ], [fĩm ], fumen [fỹm ]* (FD), fim [fĩm]* (NI), fum [fỹm]* (FD) (tr./intr. v.) ‘smoke’ 152, 276, 283 fimeyl, fimel* (FG), fimèl* (LD) (n./adj.) ‘female’ 170 fimye [fimje], [fĩmje] (n.) ‘fertilizer’ 152, 244, 321

(la)finet (see [la]fnet) fini (tr. v./adj.) ‘finish; finished’ 43, 44n18, 145, 221, 227, 235, 248, 249n32, 253, 259, 284–85, etc. fini (aux. v.) ‘finally (?), completely (?)’ 285, 389 (la)fisel (n.) ‘string; fishing line’ (see also [la]ling) 160, 163 fiy, ti-fiy, tit-fiy (n.) ‘girl; daughter’ (see also fi-d-gas and ti-fiy) 27, 117, 124, 171, 184, 199, 202, etc. fiy-d-onè (n.) ‘maid of honor’ 153 flè (n.) ‘flower, blossom’ 204, 311, 339, 341, 350, 355 la flè siro (n.) ‘elderberry, elderberry flower’ 169, 196 (la)flech* (FL) (n.) ‘tongue of a harness’ 163, 359 flèv, fleuv* (LD) (n./prop. n.) ‘river; Mississippi River’ 308 (la)fnet, (la)finet, (la)fenet* (ME), (la)funet* (JL) (n.) ‘window; casement window’ 298, 364, 379, 380, 475 fo (impers. v.) (see ifo) (la)fo (n.) ‘scythe’ 150 fo, fir (adj./adv.) ‘strong’ 149, 150, 238, 253, 337, 352, 391, 436; ‘loud(ly)’ 321, 349 fo-mye (see fe-mye) fon (n.) ‘bottom’; o fon ‘at the bottom’ 259 fon, fo* (KS) (adj./adv.) ‘deep; steep’ 151, 201, 291, 346, 382 fonm, fòm (see fanm)

fonmiy (see fami) (la)fòs (n.) ‘strength’ 443 (le)fòs* (CB) (n.) ‘pair of clippers’ 165 la Fòs Rivyò, Fòls Rivyè, Fòs Rivyèr* (MP), Fals Rivyè (prop, n.) ‘False River’ 184, 366, 384, 498 fose (n.) ‘ditch’ 168, 229 fou (tr. v.) ‘put, stick; give; throw’ 177, 201, 262, 314, 382, 388, 390, 391 fou (adj.) ‘crazy’ 280, 310n95 foule (tr. v.) ‘sprain’ 390 fou pa mal (v. phr.) ‘not care, not give a damn’ 305 (le)fourchèt* (ID) (n.) ‘gig(s)’ foure (tr. v.) ‘put, place’ 439 fourni* (AS) (tr. v.) ‘provide’ 192, 222, 362 fou so kan (v. phr.) ‘leave’ 343 fouty foud* (AS) (n.?) (always used in the negative) ‘(not) anything, not a thing’ 340, 391 fouti, foutu (see pa fouti) fouye, fouy (tr. v.) ‘dig’ 204, 205, 253, 262, 405 fòye (see fwaye) la Frans, la Frons (prop, n.) ‘France’ 356, 360, 467, 469

Franse, Fronse (prop, n./adj.) ‘French (person); Cajun or other Louisianan of French background’ 172, 470 franse, fronse (n.) ‘French language; Cajun or Creole languages’ 118, 183, 192, 193, 208, 209, etc. ; bon franse ‘good or proper French’ (usually meaning Cajun as opposed to Creole) 284 frape, frap (tr. v.) ‘hit, strike’ 161, 316, 507; ‘come upon, arrive at’ 377, 380 frè, fre* (ME), frèr* (MP), frær* (MP) (n.) ‘brother’ 122, 148, 157, 170, 172, 179, etc. fre (adj./adv./n.) ‘cold’ 148, 205, 207, 213, 231, etc. fredi (v.) ‘cool off, cool down’ 288 frekante* (YC), frekont* (JL), fritante* (AS) (tr./intr. v.) ‘visit’ (someone) 428, 430 frenmen, frenm (seefrermè) frez (n.) ‘strawberry’ 172 fri (n.) ‘fruit’ 148 fri (tr. v.) ‘fry, fried’ 205 frikase (n.) ‘fricassee’ 239, 307 frikase (tr. v.) ‘cook as a fricassee’ 221, 355 frison (n.) ‘chills’; frison pòtrin ‘pneumonia’ 221, 351 frize (adj.) ‘curly, kinky’ 217 fròm (prep.) ‘from’ 395, 406, 502 fromaj (n.) ‘hog’s head cheese’ (also la tèt fromaj) 254

frote, fròt (tr. v.) ‘rub’ 204, 229, 308 froubi (tr. v.) ‘scrub’ 175 fumen, fum (see fimen) (la)funet (see [la]fnet) fwa (n.) ‘time’ 123, 171n22, 172, 177, 192, etc.; fwa-sa-la (adv.) ‘this time’ 157, 182, 241, 278, 321, 340 (see also de fwa, kek-fwa, and lezòtfwa) (le)fwa (n.) ‘liver’ 165 fwaye, fòye* (ID) (n.) ‘fireplace’ 196 fwet, fwèt (n.) ‘whip’ 147, 177n30 G gad* (NF) (tr. v.) ‘keep’ 412 gade, garde, gard* (MP), gad, gar* (GL), ga (tr. v./cop. v.) ‘look, watch; appear’ 200, 202, 224, 238, 241, 243, 262, 277, 298, 318, 325, 349, 377, 379, 380, 388, 391, 395, 475, 502, 504–06 gade pou (see variants of gade) (v. phr.) ‘look for’ 132, 177, 207, 210, 222, 241, 242, 275, 299, 313, 325, 331, 362, 388, 395 gaje, gaj* (LD) (tr. v.) ‘hire’ 193, 410, 473 (la)galdri, garli* (RD, EC) (n.) ‘porch’ 282, 275, 379, 380 galon (n.) ‘gallon’ 388, 389 galope, galpe* (FV), galòp* (YC) (intr./tr. v.) ‘run’ 132, 224, 231, 256, 307, 308, 320, 325, 379, 380, 404, 410, 427; ‘run, operate’ (a car, machine, etc.) 404; ‘manage’ 308, 410; galope pou plas* (AS) ‘run for office’ 132, 224, 307, 325

gan (see gen) ganbo, ganmbo (see gòmbo) ganyen (tr. v.) ‘win, earn’ 248 garde, gar, gard (see gade) garson, gason (n.) ‘son’ 124, 232, 279n65, 293, 317, 331, 364, 371, 379, 380, 404, 427; ‘boy’ (see also ti-garson) 223 gas (n.) ‘bitch’ (in the expressions anfan-d-gas and fi-d-gas) 155, 202, 356 gaspije* (ML), gaspje* (LD), gaspi* (LD) (tr. v.) ‘waste’ 326 gato (n.) ‘cake’ 182, 212, 220, 284, 372 gaya (adj.) ‘well, healthy’ 298, 388 (la)gé (n.) ‘war’ 163 gen, gan* (FV), geny * (MP), ga (tr. v.) ‘have; get’ 27, 41n15, 46, 83n72, 248, 289–90 (see also the rare past forms ave and u) gen (tr. v.) ‘have, give birth to (a baby)’ 430, 476 gen, genn* (BD), gen pou (aux. v.) ‘have to, must’ 45n20, 277–78; also expresses future 277–78; u pou* (MP) ‘had to’ 279 gen, ye gen (exist, v.) ‘there is, are; they have’ 309 genble (intr. v.) ‘gamble’ 247, 336, 343, 377 gen lè* (OL) (cop. v.) ‘seem, look’ 298–99 genng* (LD) (n.) ‘gang’ 377 gep (see djèp)

Geren (prop. n.) ‘Guerin’ 320 geri (tr./intr. v.) ‘heal’ 248 gete, gète, get* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘watch’ 182, 241, 278, 279, 321, 340, 397, 474 (la)gid, (le)gid (n.) ‘rein’ 155, 163, 165, 166, 279, 320, 322 gita (n.) ‘guitar’ 294, 298, 365, 476 glase (tr. v.) ‘ice, frost (a cake)’ 284 glasyè, glasyèr (n.) ‘freezer’ 138nl, 228 Glin (prop, n.) ‘Glynn (town in Pointe Coupee Parish)’ 344, 366, 377 gòch (n./adj.) ‘left’ 205, 390; a gòch ‘left, to the left’ 156, 344 goche (adj.) ‘left-handed’ 205 (la)gòj, (la)gòrj (n.) ‘throat’ 163, 370 gòm* (GL), gonm* (GL) (n.) ‘chewing gum’ 329 gò3mbo, gonbo* (YC), gonmbo, ganbo, ganmbo (n.) ‘gumbo’ 178, 196, 221, 227, 228, 238, 244, 254, 276, 283, 313, 341, 353, 361, 369, 371, 383, 396, 397, 443, 444, 474; gòmbo fevi ‘okra gumbo’ 178, 196, 313, 371, 396, 443, 444 (see also fevi) gòn, gonn, gon* (ID) (intr. v.) ‘go, gone, went’ 145, 222, 231, 249, 391 gonfle (intr. v./n.) ‘swell; swelling’ la gonm (n.) ‘sap’ 363 gòs, gòch* (AS) (n.) ‘boll of cotton’ 241

gou (n.) ‘taste, flavor’ 202, 354 gourman, gourmon (adj.) ‘greedy, gluttonous’ 296, 314 goute, gout (tr./intr. v.) ‘taste’ 192 gouvèmeman, gouvèrnemon, gouvèrneuman* (LD) (n.) ‘government’ 376, 472, 477 gra (adj.) ‘fat, greasy’ 397 (see also rou) graduasyon* (MP) (n.) ‘graduation’ 500 gradue* (MP), gradwe (intr. v.) ‘graduate’ 174, 500 gran, gron, grann (rare fem. form) (adj.) ‘big, tall’ 199 gran-chòj, gran-chòz, gran-chò* (LD) (pron.) ‘much’; pa… gran-chòz ‘not much’ 193–94, 219–20, 323, 403 grandi, granndi (intr. v.) ‘grow’; ‘grow up’ 205, 248, 285, 323 gran-momon, gran-mamon* (ME), gron-momon, gran-mè* (GL), gran-men, gran-mær* (MP) gro-momon* (ID) (n.) ‘grandmother’ 155, 186, 199, 207, 284, etc. gran-nonk* (ME) ‘great uncle’ 466 gran ouvè* (FV), gran ouvri* (JL) ‘wide open’ 288, 328 gran-piti, gran-peuti* (ME) (n.) ‘grandchild’ (see variants of gran) 356, 467, 497, 502, 507 gran-popa, gran-papa* (MP) gran-pè* (GL), gran-pèr* (GL), granpær* (MP) (n.) ‘grandfather’ (see variants of gran) 155, 199, 289, 408, 466, 506, 507 grate, grat (tr. v.) ‘scrape; strike (a match)’ 85n75, 167, 196, 391

graton (n.) ‘crackling’ 236, 353 (la)grenn (n.) ‘seed’ 163, 164, 173, 226 la grenn (n.) ‘drizzle’ 256 grenn (n.) ‘testicle’ 163 grennen (tr. v.) ‘shell’ (beans, peas, corn) 210 (la)gres, (la)grès (n.) ‘fat, grease, lard’ 196, 204, 276, 329, 397 gri (adj.) ‘gray’ 206 griyen

, grignen

(n.) ‘attic’ 388

gro, gròs* (LD) (adj.) ‘big, tall, fat’ 42, 64, 154, 161, 164–66, 172, 176, 182, 198, 199, etc.; ‘large quantity of 164; ‘important’ (see also gran) 87, 281, 293, 410, 412; ‘high’ (of fever); gro chyen* (NF) ‘bigwig’ 281, 292 gro vant (n. phr.) in the expression gen gro vant ‘be pregnant’ 262 gron (see gran) gron-momon, gro-momon (see gran-momon) grosè (n.) ‘size, width’ 197 grosi (tr./intr. v.) ‘grow’ 248, 310, 318; ‘grow up’; ‘wax’ (of moon) 357 H ha (see sa [pron.]) (la)hach (see [la]ach) 145, 356n125 hal (see ale [tr. v.]) hærse (tr. v.) ‘harrow’ 168, 274

(la)hæs (see [la]as) hede (see ede) heg (see eg) hele (see ele) ho (adj.) ‘high’ 123, 177, 231, 367, 408 (see also anho) hòl (see òl) hont, ont, ant* (MP) (adj./n.) ‘be ashamed; shame, disgrace’ 145, 153, 307, 317 houdou (n.) ‘voodoo’ 219 houwa! (interj.) ‘wow!’ 406, 418 I i (see li) ibou (n.) ‘owl’ 308 ich, is* (GL) (see djich) ichka, iska, jichka, jiska, juchka, juska, ouchka, ouska, uchka, uzska* (RD), ska (prep./ conj.) ‘until, all the way to’ 204, 257, 317, 346, 349, 353, 358, 369, 377, 380, 391, 396, 404, 413, 415, 469, 500; ‘even’ 308, 352 ifo, fo (rare) (aux. v.) ‘it is necessary, you (I, we, etc.) have to’ 88, 223, 235n3, 287, 310–11, 339, 365, 505 (see also fale) ifo-mye* (OL) (impers. v.) ‘it would be better’ 311 il* (RD) (3 sg. pron., masc.) ‘he’ 30–38, 40, 379, 380 (see also li and èl) in (see en [indef. det.])

ina, inan, inon (see ena) inave (see ena) isi, isit (adv.) ‘here’ 344, 345, 346, 358 iskek, yiskek (n.) ‘dry yeast’ 439 ite (see èt) Ivonn* (LD) (prop, n.) ‘Yvonne’ 224 ize (adj.) ‘easy’ 145, 148, 309, 397 J (see jeu) ja [adv.] (see deja [adv.]) ja, jar (n.) (see dja [n.]) jamè, janmè, janmen, jonmè, jonmen, jòme* (MP), jòmen* (MP), jòm* (NI) (adv.) ‘never; ever’ 318, 327–28, 372 jan* (BD), jann* (LD), jonn* (ME) (n.) ‘son-in-law’ 478, 495 (see also bo-fis) jangle, janngle, jongle, jonngle, jonng* (AS) (tr./intr. v.) ‘think, think about’ 222, 245, 304, 383, 476, 478, 495 janm, jonm (n.) ‘leg’ 162, 166, 174, 218, 253, 274, 324, 367, 390 janmen … nil plas (see pas… nul plas) Jaro (prop. n.) ‘Jarreau’ (family name and name of town in Pointe Coupee Parish) 498, 502, 504

jèn, jen* (FV), jenn, jn, joenn (adj.) ‘young’ 174, 188, 192, 200, 223, 290, 369, 388, 402, 411, 432, 464, 501, 507; (pron.) ‘young people’ 188, 239, 362, 508; jen jan* (FV) ‘young people’ 118, 174, 192, 200, 240, 318, 372, 472 jen (n.) ‘June’ 471, 477 jenerasyon, jènèrasyon (n.) ‘family, relatives, parents’ 502 jènès, jennès, jœnès (n.) ‘youth’ 321, 323 jeu* (RD), j* (1 sg. subj. pron.) ‘I’ 30–34, 36, 37, 40, 260, 376, 379 jich, jis, jiz, ji, juch, jucht, jus, just (see djich) jichka, jiska, juchka, juska (see ichka) jiji (see diji) jile, jle* (ID) (tr./intr. v.) ‘freeze’ 247 jiman, jimon, juman, jumon* (DG) (n.) ‘mare’ 170 jire, jure* (NH), jur* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘curse, swear’ 34, 40, 207, 314, 389 jiroman* (FV),jiròmon* (ID),jironmon* (AS),juròman* (ML) (n.) ‘pumpkin’ 195, 221, 371 jn, joenn (see jèn) jœ nés (see jénés) jodi, jòdui* (MP), jòrdi, jordi (adv.) ‘today’ 43–45, 123, 175, 177, 192, 223, 291, 317, 318, 327, 340, etc. jolt (adj.) ‘pretty’ 145, 473 joliman, jolimon (adv.) ‘very (much), a lot’ 352, 355, 406

jonggle, jonngle, jonng (see jangle) jonm (see janm) jonmè, jonmen, jòme, jòmen, jòm (see jamè) jonn (n.) (see jan) jonn, jón (adj.) ‘yellow’ 371, 396 jonni (tr./intr. v.) ‘turn yellow; ripen’ 248, 396 joranj, joranz (see zoranj) jou, jour (n.) ‘day’ 43, 85, 86; par jou ‘by the day’ 86, 362, 389, 411 jou-jordi* (AS) (adv.) ‘these days, nowadays’ 192, 223, 340 jounou [ʒunu], [ʒũnu], [ʒũnũ], joenou (n.) ‘knee’ 153 journè, journen (n.) ‘day’ 341, 388, 476 jouwe, jwe, jwè, joue* (AS) (tr./intr. v.) ‘play’ (a game, musical instrument, etc.) 147, 150, 183, 228, 278, 320, 321, 336, 339, 343, 377, 380, 384, 402, 441, 473, 475, 476, 502 juch, jucht, jus, just (see djich) juju (see diji) juman, jumon (see jiman) jure, jur (see jire) juròman (see jiroman) jwann, jwen, jwèn jwenn, jwonn, jwon (tr. v.) ‘meet’ 164, 246, 356, 380, 395, 428

jwif (prop, n./adj.) ‘Jew, Jewish’ 371 K k (rel. pron.) (see ki [rel. pron.]) ka (aux. v.) (see kapab) ka (conj.) (see kan) kabàn, kaban, kabann, kabonn (n.) ‘house’ 153, 161, 189, 230, 232, etc. kabouch* (FV) (n.) ‘caboose’ 218, 345, 358 kache, kachye (tr. v.) ‘hide’ 368, 388, 389 Kadjen (n. / prop, n.) ‘Cajun; any white person of francophone heritage in South Louisiana’; ‘Cajun’ (language) 221, 227, 342, 351, 384, 466, 468 kafe (n.) ‘coffee’ 162, 171, 192, 208, 261, 363, 389 kaldran, kaldron (n.) ‘quadroon’ 297 kale (intr. v.) ‘sink’ 203 kale (tr. v.) ‘stick, stuff’ 187, 379 Kalifourni, Kalifounni* (ME), Kalfourni* (ME) (prop, n.) ‘California’ 257, 364, 464–66, 468, 472 kalite, kalte (n.) ‘kind’ (see also tou kalite) 117, 197, 203–04, 208, 237, etc. kalkule* (ME), karkule* (LD, GE), karkul* (LD) (tr. v.) ‘calculate’ 478 kalomel (n.) ‘calomel’ 221, 290, 291, 351

kamizòl (n.) ‘nightgown’ 244 kan, ka, kon, tan* (ID) (conj.) ‘when’ 27, 35, 37, 40, 151, 231, 175, 334, 370 kan (see fou so kan) kana, kanar* (CB) (n.) ‘duck’ 153, 199, 203, 204, 277, 359, 376, 444; ti-kana ‘duckling’ 199 (see also ti) Kanada (prop, n.) ‘Canada’ 506 kanal (n.) ‘canal’ 405 kangrès (see kongres) kandi, kanndi, kondi* (LD), konndi* (ID) (n.) ‘candy’ 194, 283, 320, 331 kanm (see kòm [adv./conj.]) kanman (see kòman [inter, adv.]) kanmanse, kanmans (see kòmanse) kan-mèm (adv.) ‘still, all the same’ 236n5, 321 le kann (see dekann) kanntine* (FV), kantini [k tĩnĩ]* (KS), kantinu [k tiny], [k tinỹ], kontinu* (LD), kantinwe* (GL), kontinye* (YC) (tr. v./aux. v.) ‘continue’ 86, 152, 205, 215, 223, 235n3, 247n21, 286, 367, 380, 384, 397, 436 la kanpony , konpon* , konpon* (NF) (n.) ‘country, countryside’ 232, 406, 464, 465 kanpran, kanprann, kanprœnen (see konprann) kansær (see konsèr)

kan-se* (NF) (conj.) ‘even if, even though; whether’ 371, 403, 408, 410, 412 kansiyòl (see kraksiyòl) kant (n.) (see kont [n.]) kant (prep.) (see kont [prep.]) kantan, kanton* (ME), kontan, konton (adj.) ‘happy, glad’ 220, 222, 252, 299, 325, 371, 433, 476, 478, 501, 502 kante (see konte) kanyèsasyon (see konvèsasyon) kap, karp* (EC), dikap* (FV) (n.) ‘buffalo fish’ (of various species) 226, 309, 355 kapab, kapa* (NF), ka (aux. v.) ‘can, be able to’ (see also pe, poura, pouve, pu) 247, 273–74 kapo (n.) ‘coat’ 207, 380 kapote (intr./tr. v.) ‘turn over, capsize; knock over’ 286, 352 kar (n.) ‘quarter; quart* (ID)’ 209, 433, 498, 499, 509 (see also kartye and travaye) karabin (n.) ‘rifle’ 207 karant, karannt* (AS), karont (card, num.) ‘forty’ 173, 198, 263, 281, 469, 500, 507 karòt (n.) ‘carrot’ 365 kartouch, katouch* (LD) (n.) ‘cartridge’ 326 kartye* (FL) ‘quarter’ (phase of the moon) 357

kase (tr. v.) ‘break’ 88n82, 165, 166, 507; ‘tear down, demolish’ 307; ‘end, eliminate’ 408; kase mayi ‘separate ears of corn from the stalk’ 171, 210, 243nll, 388, 391, 443 kat, katr (before a vowel), katre- (card, num.) ‘four’ 123, 171, 197– 98, 289, 290, 348, 351, 408, 410, 427, 464, 500, 502, 505; katre-ven ‘eighty’ 198, 402; katre-vendis ‘ninety’ 198; katrè-ven-e-kèk* (NF) ‘eighty-odd’ 290, 402 kat, kart (n.) ‘card, cards’ 336, 343 katapla, kataplas, katopla, katoplanm (n.) ‘poultice’ 341 katenn, katèn* (MP) (n.) ‘doll’ 116, 118, 187, 279 katolik, kòtolik* (YC) (n./adj.) ‘Catholic’ 199, 203, 204, 280, 281, 342, 366, 369, 412, 413, 436, 437, 439, 440, 468, 469, 478 katòrz, katòz (card, num.) ‘fourteen’ 197, 289, 427, 506 katriyenm, katriyèm* (OL) (ord. num.) ‘fourth; fourth grade’ 428 kavalye* (NH) ‘male dance partner’ 230 kawenn, kawann* (EC) (n.) ‘loggerhead or fresh water alligator snapping turtle’ 147, 397 kayou* (FV) (n.) ‘stone’ 274 kè, kœ, kèr* (JL) (n.) ‘heart; core’ 201, 382, 433 ke (rel. pron.) (see ki [rel. pron.]) ke, kœ, keu, ki, k (conj.) ‘that; than (in comparisons)’ 318–20, 367– 68 (la)ke, (la)keu, (la)tche, (la)tcheu, (la)tchye (n.) ‘tail’ (see also la tche chat) 163, 164, 202, 377

kèk (adj./quant. det.) ‘some, a few’ 195–96, 231, 232, 290, 347, 365, 396, 402, 427, 436, 478 kèk-chò* (LD), kèk-chòj* (NF), kè-chò* (NI), kè-chòz* (MP), kèk-kichb, kek-ki-chòj, kè-ki-chò, ke-ki-chòj, kè-ki-choz* (ME) (indef. pron.) ‘something’ 179, 207, 221, 222, 226, 262, 287, 296, 299, 376, 377, 382, 407, 409, 412, 436, 439, 475, 505 (see also kek-zafè, ki-chò, tou-ké-chò) kekenn, keken* (DG), kèkœnn* (MP, EC), kèlkenn* (NF), kikenn, kiken* (KS) (indef. pron.) ‘someone’ 186, 221–22, 299, 319, 325, 368, 384, 389, 413, 430, 466, 470, 501, 505, 506, 507; kèkœnn-dòt ‘someone else’ 151, 339 kek-fwa (adv.) ‘sometimes’ 256, 339, 340 kek-mwòyen* (ID) (adv.) ‘somehow’ 349 kek-plas (adv.) ‘somewhere’ 261, 312, 347; kèk-plas-dòt* (MP) ‘somewhere else’ 501 kèksyonnen* (JL) (tr. v.) ‘question’ 331 kek-zafè (indef. pron.) ‘something’ 221, 351, 353 (see also kèk-chò and ki-chò) kèl* (LD) (inter, adj.) ‘which, what’ 230, 333 kèr (see kè) kèn* (OL), kenn (OL), tchenn* (YC) (poss. pron.) ‘that of, those of 26, 43–44, 50, 83, 85–86, 116, 187–88, 212–15 kenn (n.) ‘canning jar’ 282, 366 kenz (card, num.) ‘fifteen’ 197, 356–58, 498 kèstyon, kestchyon, kwèstchyon* (ME) (n.) ‘question’ 195, 227, 468

la ket (n.) ‘collection of money in church’ (also ‘collection plate’?) 407, 419; fe la ket ‘take up a collection’ 407 (la)keu (n.) (see [la]ke [n.]) keu (rel. pron.) (see ki [rel. pron.]) keu (conj.) (see ke [conj.]) ki (inter, pron.) ‘who, what’ 330–32 ki (inter, adj.) ‘what, which’ 332–33; ki kalite ‘what kind’ 331, 409; ki lanne ‘what year’ 331; ki lè ‘what time’ 63, 64, 211, 262, 295, 331, 334; ki-moun ‘who, whom’ 204, 284, 296, 330–31, 333, 376, 382, 384, 404, 407, 415, 466; ki mwa ‘what month’ 333; ki plas ‘where’ 295, 333 ki, k, ke (rare), keu (rare), ti (rare) (rel. pron.) ‘that, which’ (see also sa) 225–27, 230, 232;… ki vyen ‘next (week, month, year)’ 182, 200, 258, 341, 356 ki (conj.) (see ke [conj.]) ki-chò, ki-chòj, ki-chòw (indef. pron.) ‘something’ 210, 218, 221, 299, 318, etc. (see also kèk-chò and kek-zafè); (n.) ‘thing’ 115, 194, 196, 204, 205, etc. kidni [kidni], [kɩdni] (n.) ‘kidney’ 142, 148, 177, 341 kikenn (see kekenn) kiltavatè* (LD), kiltivatè* (LD), kiltuvatè* (AS), kultivatè, kultuvatè (n.) ‘cultivator’ 204, 350 (see also djounya) ki-moun, ki-mounn (inter, pron.) ‘who, whom’ 204, 284, 296, 330–31, 333, 376, 382, 384, 404, 407, 415, 466 la kiniy* (OL) (n.) ‘quinine’ 316

kirey (n.) ‘squirrel’ 210, 221, 355 kiriyè* (RD), kiriyeu* (RD), kuryeu* (RD) (adj.) ‘curious’ 379, 380 kite, kit (tr./intr. v.) ‘leave’ 148, 162, 231, 232, 261, 262, 288, 311, 312, 328, 335, 338, 356, 357, 363, 370, 377, 389, 404, 412, 416, 430, 468, 472, 501; ‘stop’ (doing something) 283, 352, 471, 472; (in causatives:) ‘let’ 196, 244, 287–88, 314, 326, 335, 344, 366, 396, 436 …ki vyen (see ki [rel. pron.]) kiyè (see ti-kiyè) (la)kizin (n.) ‘kitchen’ 163, 164, 257 Klara* (LD) (prop, n.) ‘Clara’ 224 klarunet* (JD), klèrinet* (CB) (n.) ‘clarinet’ 150 klas (see ba) klase* (NF) (refl. v.) ‘separate oneself, put oneself in a separate class’ 403 klæ, klær, klè (adj.) ‘clear, light; light-skinned’ 206, 321 Kleman* (AS) (prop, n.) ‘Clement’ (?) 329 klere* (FV) (intr. v.) ‘shine’ 265 klo (n.) ‘field’ 149, 332, 357 klou (n.) (see deklou) Klou Klòk* (FV), Kou Klòk* (LD) (prop, n.) ‘Ku Klux Klan’ 370 klouwe, koulwe (tr. v.) ‘nail’ 168

kòche, koche, kòrche* (NH), korche* (AS) (tr. v.) ‘skin’ 40, 368 kochon (n.) ‘hog, pig’ 177, 195, 198, 199, 236, 240, 353, 364, 376, 406, 443, 444 (la)kòd, (la)kòrd* (NF) (n.) ‘rope’ 160n2, 406; (la)kòd lenj ‘clothesline’ 160n2, 346 (la)kòd (n.) ‘cord of wood’ (see also kòrde) 168, 171 kœ (n.) (see kè [n.]) kœ (conj.) (see ke [conj.]) kofè, kòfe, kofæ (inter, adv.) ‘why’ 62n44, 149, 258, 324, 334–35, 344, 345, 506 (see also pouki) koken (adj.) ‘clever, sly’ 353 la kokluch (n.) ‘whooping cough’ 163 kokodri (n.) ‘alligator’ 343 kòl (intr. v.) ‘cling to, stick close to’ 314 kolèj (n.) ‘college’ 338, 507 kolonm, kolòm* (JL) (n.) ‘overseer, foreman’ 443, 461 koloy (n.) ‘kerosene’ 196 kolye, (lè)kolye* (LD) (n.) ‘collar of a harness’ 165; kolye an bwa, bwa kolye ‘wooden collar’ 359, 361; kolye an po ‘leather collar’ 361 kòm, kom, konm, koum, kanm* (GL) (adv./conj.) ‘like’ 320, 349, 365, 372 kòm, konm (adv.) ‘how’ 349

kòm, konm, koum (conj.) ‘as’ 319–20 kòman, kòmen, komon, konmen, konmon, konmyen, kanman* (NF) (inter, adv.) ‘how, how much, how many’ 334 kòman, kòmon, konman, kouman* (ME), koumon* (ME) (adv./inter. adv.) ‘how’ 334, 352; kòman to (vou) ye? ‘How are you?’ kòmanse, kòmonse, konmonse, kanmanse* (AS), koumonse* (ME), kanmans* (AS) (v.) ‘begin, start’ 240, 241, 246, 256, 258, 284, 327, 334, 341, 344, 356, 357, 365, 369, 380, 389, 427, 430, 437, 464, 472, 474, 503, 507 komen (adj.) ‘cheap, of little value’ 295; (in moral sense) ‘no good, common’ 195 komin (see depèch) kòmprann, kòmproenen (see konpron) kòm sa (adv.) ‘like this’ 320, 349 (see variants of kòm) koò si (conj.) ‘as if 294, 308, 318, 365, 372 (see variants of kòm) kon (conj.) (see kan [conj.]) kondi, konndi (see kandi) Konfèdere* (ID), Konnfèdèr* (LD) (prop, n.) ‘Confederate’ 332 kongnen (see konyen) kongres* (NF), kangrès* (AS) (n.) ‘Congress’ 409 konm (see kòm) konman (adv./inter. adv.) (see kòman [adv./inter. adv.]) konmanse (see kòmanse)

konmen, konmon, konmyen (see kòman [inter, adv.]) le konn (see dekann) konnen, kònen, konne, kònè, kone (tr. v.) ‘know’ 247, 252; (aux. v.) ‘know how (to do something)’ 282, 284 konnen (see variants above) (aux. v.) expressing repeated, habitual action. 282–843 konpony, konpon (see kanpony) konprann, konpronn, kòmprann, kanprann, konmpronn, konpron, konpron, konmpran, kòpran, kanpran (tr./intr. v.) ‘understand’ 196, 227, 238, 240, 241, 246, 247n22, 258, 275, 286, 287, 320, 327, 359, 377, 388, 389, 391, 395, 410, 464, 465, 470, 498, 506; kanprœnen* (MP), kòmprrenen* (MP) (imperfect) ‘understood’ 504, 506, 508; fe konmpran ‘explain’ 464 konsèr, kansœr* (MP) (n.) ‘cancer’ 507, 508 kont, kant* (GL) (n.) ‘story, tall tale; gossip’ 117, 256, 324; konte kont, rakonte de kont, fe de kont* (ML) ‘tell tall tales; gossip, tell gossip’ 117, 256, 324 kont, kant (prep.) ‘against; in exchange for’ 195, 218, 221, 222, 329, 362, 368 kontan, konton (see kantan) konte, kante* (GL), rakonte (tr. v.) ‘tell’ 122, 151, 174, 208, 227n62, 225, 256, 324, 379, 383; konte kont ‘tell stories’ 117, 256, 324 konte (v.) ‘count’ 500, 503 kontinu, kontinye (see kanntine) kontrarye* (MP) (intr. v.) ‘argue’ 507

kontrasyon* (NF) (n.) ‘construction company’ 410 konvèsasyon, kanvèsasyon* (NI) (n.) ‘conversation’ 396; tchanmbo en konvèsasyan ‘hold a conversation’ 396 konyen 432

, kongnen (tr. v.) ‘hit, strike, beat’ 132, 325, 331, 368,

kòrche (see kòche) kòrde (tr. v.) ‘stack wood in cords’ 168 (see also (la)kbd) (la)kbrdeyon, kòrdeyon* (CB), kòrdèlon* (JD) (n.) ‘accordion’ 476 (Bayou la) Kòrn Chevrey (prop, n.) ‘Buckhorn Bayou’ (bayou in Pointe Coupee Parish) 347 kòrnet, kòrne, kòrdinef (CB) (n.) ‘trumpet, cornet’ 183, 201, 475 (le)kòt (n.) ‘rib’ 165 kote (n.) ‘side’ 182, 192, 254, 347, 364, 366, 376, 377, 396, 498; (prep.) ‘to, at, on the side of 211, 360–62 (see also an kote); (adv.) ‘on the side, to the side’ 347 kòtolik (see katolik) koton, kotan (n.) ‘cotton’ 151, 211, 240, 293, 307, 309, 311, 312, 325, 327, 339, 343, 434, 443, 471, 472 (la)kou, (la)kour (n.) ‘yard’ 157, 163, 174, 179, 201, 289, 294, 359, 364, 365, 383, 430, 432, 433, 441, 448n10 kou (n.) ‘neck’ 188, 213, 380, 507 kou (n.) ‘strike, blow; round, going over’ (e.g., de kou d chart ‘two rounds of the plow, two plowings’) 155, 177n30, 356, 380 (see also tou-d-en-kou)

Kou Klòk (see Klou Klòk) kou-d-pwon, kou-d-pon, kou-d-pwen* (NI) (n.) ‘fist’ 356 kou-d-pye (n.) ‘kick’ 155, 356 kou-d-pye* (GL) (tr. v.) ‘kick’ kouche, koucha* (ML), kouch (tr./intr. v.) ‘lay down’; ‘lie down’ 243, 260, 305, 348, 389; ‘go to bed, sleep’ 192, 229, 237, 241, 243, 260, 294, 312, 344, 350, 366, 372, 389, 475 koud (v.) ‘sew’ 235, 241, 249, 277, 398 koule (n.) ‘small body of standing water’ 308 koulè, koulœ* (LD) (adj./n.) ‘black colored; black, colored person, people’ 226, 230, 262, 345, 346, 377, 403, 407–10, 467, 468; moun koulè ‘black, colored person, people’ 226, 345 (see moun) koulèv* (AS), koulez* (NF) (n.) ‘blue runner snake’ 350 koulwe (see klouwe) koum (adv./conj.) (see kòm [adv./conj.]) koum (conj.) (see kòm [conj.]) koumon, koumon (adv./inter. adv.) (see kòman [adv./inter. adv.]) koumonse (see kòmanse) koupe, koup (tr. v./adj.) ‘cut; stab’ 236n5, 238, 239 koupe (tr. v./adj.) ‘castrate, castrated’ 335 koupe* (AS) (n.) ‘cut, notch’ 314

kouri, kouru* (LD), kour, kou (intr. v.) ‘go; leave’ 27, 119, 235n3, 246, 257n43, 260n49, 311–12, 313–14, 322–23; ‘run (for political office)’; kouri (pou) prèzidon* (LD) ‘run for president’ 369; kouri lekòl ‘attend, go to school’ 121, 122, 124, 241, 246, 369, 384, 398, 412, 427, 467, 468, 472, 475, 477, 478, 500, 507; kou apre* (BD) ‘take after, resemble’ 323; kouri on* (NF) ‘be going on (a certain age)’ 402 koutè* (LD), kour* (AS) (tr. v.) ‘cost’ 332 koute, kout (tr. v.) ‘listen’ 239, 240, 243, 313, 383, 426 koutim, koutum* (AS), kutim* (DG) (intr. v./adj./aux. v.) expressing a state (in past) or a habitual, repeated action. 145, 194, 283, 294, 320 kouto (n.) ‘knife’ 173, 187, 209, 221, 227, 240, 360, 379, 391; kouto dekann, kouto d kann* (FL), kouto dikann* (FV), kouto dukann* (FV) ‘sugar cane knife’ 209 kouvè, kouvæ, kouv (see krouvi) kouvèti lorye* (NH), kouvæti noriye* (NH), kouvèrtu d orye* (FE), kouvèrtur d orye* (JD) ‘pillowcase’ 117 kouvri (see krouvi) kouyon (see kwiyon) kouzen (n.) ‘cousin (male)’ 170, 172, 179, 226, 377, 428, 465, 466, 475, 506; prèmye kouzen ‘first cousin’ 428, 465, 466 kouzin (n.) ‘cousin (female)’ 170, 258, 466 koze (intr. v.) ‘chat’ 86, 312 kraksiyol* (ML), kansiyòl* (FV) (n.) ‘doughnut’ 320 kraze, kraz (tr. v.) ‘crush, grind sugar cane’ 247n22, 294 kra (see krwa [tr. v.)

la kranp, kronp (n.) ‘cramp’ 274, 324 kredi (n.) ‘credit’ 321 (la)krèm (n.) ‘cream’ 173, 179 kreyòl, kriyòl (prop. n./adj.) ‘Creole’ 141n5, 195, 202, 227, 276, 293, 325, 353, 438, 466, 468, 469, 472, 473, 475, 476, 477, 479 kreyòl, kriyòl (n.) ‘Creole’ (language) 66n51, 118, 173, 174, 182–84, 195, 201, etc. kri (n.) ‘cry’ 380 kribis (n.) ‘crawfish’ 405 krismis, krismous (prop, n.) ‘Christmas’ 148 kriye (intr. v.) ‘cry’ 148, 376 kròch (adj.) ‘crooked, off-center’187, 226, 279, 367; zye kròch ‘crosseyed’ 187 kroche (adj./tr. v.) ‘hitch; latch; hook’ 282, 365 kronp (see la kranp) krouvi, krouv, kouv* (FL), kouvè* (FV), kouvæ, kouvri* (FL) (tr. v.) ‘cover’ 222, 238, 240, 241, 245n13, 246, 382, 388 (la)krwa (n.) ‘cross’ 390 krwa, kwa, kra* (FV) (tr. v.) ‘believe, think’ 235n3, 248, 323; krwaye* (MP) (imperfect) ‘believed, thought’ 498, 503, 504 kultivatè, kultuvatè (see kiltavatè) kuryeu (see kiriyè) kutim (see koutim) kwen, kwon (n.) ‘corner’ 283, 379

la kwenn, la kwèn, la kwann* (JD) (n.) ‘skin of an animal’ 359 kwèstchyon (see kèstyon) kwi (v. tr./adj.) ‘cook, cooked’ 196, 210, 221, 226, 227, etc.; fe kwi (v. phrase) ‘cook’ 312 kwil (n.) ‘quilt’ 161 (la)kwis, (la)kuis (n.) ‘thigh’ 148, 163, 164 la kwit, la kuit (n.) "’la cuite": thick, molasses-like byproduct of the sugar-making process’ 147 kwiyon, kouyon (adj./n.) ‘dumb, stupid; cowardly; fool; coward’ 292, 297, 314 kwiyonad* (AS) (n.) ‘insignificant activity; puttering’ 196; fe kwiyonad* (AS) ‘putter around, mess around’ 196 L la, l (prenominal def. det.) ‘the’ 163, 164n10, 174 (see also le [prenominal def./ indef. det.] and le [prenominal sg. def. det.]) la, lan, l, leu (rare), lœ (rare), a, an, nan (postnominal def. det.) ‘the, this, that’ 33n19, 43, 65, 163, 164n10, 172–74, 176, 178–79 la, a, lon* (GL) (adv.) ‘there; here’ 178–79, 347 la (adv./conj.) ‘then’ 365 la (3 sg. pron.) (rare) ‘it, that’ 208–09 laba (adv.) ‘there, over there’ 347 labarkasyon, lanbarkasyon* (JL) (n.) ‘transportation’ 428, 473, 489 labitan, abitan (n.) ‘farmer’ 160n3

labitud* (MP) (n.) ‘habit’ 283, 507 laboure, raboure* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘plow, cultivate; work in the field’ 205, 226, 340, 389 lach (n.) (see [la]ach) lache, lach (tr./intr. v.) ‘let go’ 173, 391; ‘fire’ (someone) 257; ‘stop working’ 357 ladikasyon (see lendikasyon) la-don* (LD) (prep.) ‘inside’ 347 (see also andan) Lafayet, Lafiyetch* (GL) (prop, n.) ‘Lafayette (city in Louisiana)’ 172, 183, 472 lafè (see zafæ) Lafrik (prop, n.) ‘Africa’ 355, 368, 408, 409 Lafriken (n.) ‘African’ 409 laj (n.) ‘age’ 160, 200, 203, 220, 227, 290, 331, 351, 357, 365, 402, 507 laj (adj.) ‘wide’ 165, 200, 388 lajan (see larjan) lajè* (FL) (n.) ‘width’ 197 lak (n.) ‘lake’ 204, 253, 344 lamizman, lamizmon, lamuzman* (NH), amuzman* (MP) (n.) ‘fun, entertainment, amusement’ 469 lanbarkasyon (see labarkasyon)

langaj, longaj* (ML) (n.) ‘language’ 371 langè, longè (n.) ‘length’ 362 langle (see angle) langon* (ML) (n.) ‘Ointment’ 229 lanmen, lannmen (adv.) ‘the next day’ 341 lanmson, lonmson (n.) ‘fish hook’ 160, 171, 182, 405 lannen, lonnen, anne* (BD), zannen* (NF) (n.) ‘year’ 153, 154, 171, 182, 200, etc. (see also an) (la)lanng (n.) ‘tongue’ 145n9, 146, 163, 208, 255, 328 lanng (adj.) (see lonng) (la)lanp, (la)lanmp, (la)lonmp (n.) ‘kerosene lamp’ 382 lantan, lanton, lonton, latan (adv.) ‘a long time, for a long time’ 123, 172, 262, 278, 285, 288, 299, 321, 322, 328, 334, 338, 341, etc.; lantan pase ‘a long time ago’ 123, 262, 288, 322, 328, 338, 405, 408, 501, 504; komon lonton? ‘how long?’ 334 lantour (see a lantour and a lantour-isi) lanvè (see an lanvè) lapen (n.) ‘rabbit’ 157, 173, 178, 220, 236, 241, 380 lapre-midi (see apre-midi) larbwa (see ratbwa) Iarjan, lajan (n.) ‘money’ 116, 178, 189, 194, 196, etc.

larògon* (FV), larougan* (AS), larougon* (AS), louragon* (FG), ouragon* (JL) (n.) ‘storm; hurricane’ 336, 343 laryen, zaryen (n.) ‘spider’ 165 las (adj.) ‘tired’ 195, 252, 298, 299, 327 lasyèt (n.) ‘plate, dish; dishes’ 160, 161, 247n23, 294, 353, 359 latan (see lantan) latchèn* (RD) (3 pi. poss. det.) ‘their own’ 188 (see also yekèn and lœrtchèn) lavan-midi (see avan-midi) lave, lav (tr. v.) ‘wash’ lavet (n.) ‘washrag’ 145, 204, 213, 253, 279, etc. lay (n.) ‘garlic’ 367 læ, lè (n.) ‘air’ (see also gen lè) 186, 407 læb, lèb, lèrb, zæb, zèb (n.) ‘grass, weeds’ 160, 161, 197, 229, 290, 311, 320, 359 lè (n.) ‘hour, time’ 262; ki lè li ye? ‘What time is it?’ 63, 64, 211, 262, 295, 333, 334 (see also è) le (prenominal def./indef. det., sg. or pl.) ‘the, some’ 154, 164, 172, 176; with postposed dem. det. 182–83 (see also de and lez) le, leu (rare), lœ* (NF) (prenominal sg. def. det.) ‘the’ 173–74 lèb (see læb) lebay (n./tr. v.) ‘laying by’ (of a crop); ‘lay by’ (leave a crop in the field to mature without further cultivation) 132, 142, 249, 327, 344

Lebo* (AS) (prop, n.) ‘Lebeau’ 241, 257, 390, 391 le fwa (see defwa) legliz (n.) ‘church’ 182, 199, 330, 369, 407, 436, 441, 469, 470, 473, 474, 476, 477 legwi, legwiy (see negwi) lekay, ekal* (MP), zekal* (JD), zekaf (LD) (n.) ‘scales on a fish’ 210, 226 lekel, nekel, nekèyl* (NI) (rel. pron.) ‘which one’ 330, 332, 333 lekiri (n.) ‘stable’ 160, 161 lekla (see zekla) Leklenn (prop, n.) ‘Lakeland’ (town in Pointe Coupee Parish) 369, 407, 504 lekò, lekòr (n.) ‘(river) bank’ 253, 314 lekòch (n.) ‘outer covering of various plants’ (tree bark, rice hull, orange peel, etc.) 160 lekòl (n.) ‘school; education, schooling’; kouri lekòl, va lekòl ‘go to school, attend school’ 121–24, 241, 246, 336, 365, etc. (see also metres-d-ekòl) lemon (see limon) len (see li [3 sg. pron.]) lendi, lenndi, lenmdi* (KS), lœndi (n.) ‘Monday’ 151, 357, 441 lendikasyon, ladikasyon* (FV) (n.) ‘education’ 409, 500

lenj, renj (rare) (n.) ‘clothing; cloth’ (see also bon lenj) 84, 160n2, 189, 205, 206, etc.; mòrso lenj ‘rag’ 290 lenmen, lèmen* (ML), lenm, lèm (tr. v.) ‘like, love’ 124, 193, 202, 228, 229, 252, 274, 282, 321, 328, 366, 383, 389, 391, 396, 397, 402, 409, 426, 427, 436, 441, 443, 501, 502 lenvitasyon (see [la]bitasyon) lepòl, nepòl (n.) ‘shoulder’ 154, 161, 162, 390 lese, lès (tr. v./aux. v.) ‘let’ 118, 207, 287, 315, 377, 388, 396, 397, 405, 416, 428, 435, 499 lesi* (LD) (adv.) ‘in, inside’ 347 lèskalye (n.) ‘stairway’ 388, 468 lèsklavaj* (LD), lèsklavay* (FV), èsklavaj* (ME) (n.) ‘slavery; slave* (ME)’ 132, 174, 228, 368, 467 leson* (FV) (n.) ‘lesson’ 123, 408 lespès* (LD), nespes (n.) ‘kind, sort’ 405 lèstoma (n.) ‘chest; stomach’ 160, 256 lestonp, lestanp* (ID) (n.) ‘brand mark’ 160 lèstoran (see rèestoran) letalon* (FG), netalon (n.) ‘stallion, stud horse’ 170 lete (n.) ‘summer’ 174, 240 letòf(n.) ‘cloth, material’ 173, 295, 352, 431 letwal (n.) ‘star’ 160, 165, 398

lètwaye (see netwaye) leu (postnominal def. det.) (see la [postnominal def. det.]) leu (prenominal sg. def. det.) (see le [prenominal sg. def. det.]) (la)lev (n.) ‘lip’ 201 leve, lœve* (JD), reve* (GL), lev (intr. v.) ‘rise; get up; grow’ 116, 182, 243, 244, 276, 282, 296, 305, 307, 337, 341, 343, 357, 359, 380, 388, 390, 391; (tr. v.) ‘raise, lift’ 186, 247n22, 295, 388, 505 (see also èlve); leve la men apre* (FV) ‘wave to’ 186 lez (rare) (prenominal pl. def. det.) ‘the’ 201, 336, 379, 469, 473, 502 (see also le [prenominal def./indef. det., sg. or pl.]) la lezan, lezon, roulezan, roulezon* (LD) (n.) ‘sugar cane harvesting and grinding season’ 327, 344 lezòt (pl. indef. adj./pron.) Other, the other; the others’ 155–56, 203, 440, 506 (see also lòt) lezòt fwa (adv.) ‘in the old days, a long time ago’ 172, 341, 388 li, l, i, len* (FV), lœ* (LD) (3 sg. pron.) ‘he, she, it’ 40, 42, 43, 45, 46, 117, 119, 206–12 (see also èl and il) li, lit (n.) ‘bed’ 215, 229, 237, 241, 281, 366, 379, 382, 383 li, lir (tr. v.) ‘read’ 147, 204, 248, 253, 274, 364, 390, 404, 415, 435 la libèrte (n.) ‘freedom, liberty’ 195, 434 lide, nide (n.) ‘idea’ 157, 318, 437, 505; chanje so tide ‘change one’s mind’ 157, 437, 505 (la)lign, (la)ling (n.) ‘fishing line’ 146, 405

(la)lijyon, (la)lizyon, rèlizyon* (MP) (n.) ‘religion’ 186, 405, 407, 412, 413, 435, 440, 441 lil (n.) ‘island’; Lil, Liyl* (BD) (prop, n.) ‘The Island, portion of land lying between False River and the Mississippi River’ 291, 346, 351, 369, 428, 444, 466, 498, 505, 506 li-mèm, li-menm (3 sg. refl./emph. pron.) ‘himself, herself, itself 230, 304, 318, 335, 397, 404, 410, 508 limen (tr. v.) ‘light’ 146, 383; limen dife ‘light a fire’ 383 limon, lemon* (ID) (n.) ‘lemon’ 145 (la)lin, (la)ling* (AR), (la)lun* (FL) (n.) ‘moon’; nouvel lin* (FL) ‘new moon’ 145, 201, 335, 357, 366, 398 lir (see li [tr. v.]) lit (see li [n.]) liv (n.) ‘book’ 224, 275, 315; ‘ledger, accounting book’ 501 liv (n.) ‘pound’ 194, 226 livè, livèr (n.) ‘winter’ 318 la livyè (see [la]rivyè) Livonnya* (AS) (prop, n.) ‘Livonia’ (town in Pointe Coupee Parish) 358 (la)lizyon (see [la]lijyon) en lo (quant, det.) ‘many, a lot’ 193, 244, 326, 371, 376 lod (tr. v./n.) ‘load’ 338, 383 (see also delod) lodè (n.) ‘smell, scent’ 157, 173, 178, 253

lœ (postnominal def. det.) (see la [postposed def. det.]) lœ (prenominal sg. def. det.) (see le [prenominal sg. def. det.]) lœ (3 sg. pron.) (see li [ 3 sg. def. pron.]) lœndi (see lendi) lœr* (3 pl. poss. det.) ‘their’ (see also ye [3 pl. poss. det.]) 187, 379 lœrtchèn* (EC) (3 pl. poss. det.) ‘their, their own’ 117, 188, 195, 379 (see also yekèn and latchèn) lœve (see leve) lofis (n.) ‘office; political office’ 160, 364, 410, 411, 476, 478, 501 lon (see la [adv.]) longaj (see langaj) longè (see langè) lonmbraj (n.) ‘shade’ 307 (la)lonmp (see [la]lanp) lonmson (see lanmson) lonnen (see lannen) lonng, lanng (adj.) ‘long’ 161, 227, 320, 366 lontch* (ME) (n.) ‘lunch’ 463, 478, 495 lonton (see lantan) lontour (see a lantour) loperasyon (n.) ‘operation’ 193

lopital (n.) ‘hospital’ 206, 328, 438, 476 lòr (n.) ‘gold’ 160 lorye, noriye* (NH), orye (n.) ‘pillow’ 117 (see kouvèti lorye) lòt, -òt (in certain combinations) (indef. adj.) ‘other’ 86, 165, 188, 203, 204, 205, etc. (see also lezòt) lòt (indef. pron.) ‘the other one(s), the others’ 220, 224, 252, 279n65, 317; ‘more, some more’ 220, 464, 469, 476 (see also lezòt) en lòt (indef. pron.) ‘other, another’ 203, 204, 220, 239, 307, 412, 439 (see also lezòt) lòt bò, o lòt bò (adv.) ‘(on) the other side’ 347 lòt-jou (adv.) ‘the other day’ 341, 350 lòt-jou-ye* (KS) (adv.) ‘in former times, formerly’ 336 lòt kote, an lòt kote (adv.) ‘the other side; abroad’ 346, 347, 377; (prep.) ‘on the other side of 361, 377, 498 lòtour (see a lantour isi) lourògon (see larògon) lourè (see roule) lous (n.) ‘bear’ 308, 352 louvraj, nouvraj, ouvraj* (ME) (n.) ‘work’ 160–63, 175, 188, 2.13, 223, 229, 258, 411, 443, 467 louwe, lwe, lou* (MP, EC) (tr. v.) ‘rent’ 147, 499 la Louzyan* (KS), la Louzyàn* (KS), la Louzyæn* (ML) (prop, n.) ‘Louisiana’ 202, 294, 309

(la)lun (see [la]lin) la lve (n.) ‘levee’ 377 (la)lwa (n.) ‘law’ 163, 193, 409, 411, 478 (la)lwa (n.) ‘police, law enforcement officials’ 163, 325, 368 lwaye (n.) ‘rent’ 433, 499 lwazo (see zwazo) lwe (see louwe) lwen, lwon, lwan* (FG) (adv.) ‘far’ 174, 207, 230, 289, 320, 348, 352, 406, 434, 465, 505 lwil (n.) Oil’ 356, 363 (la)lyòn, (la)lyann (n.) ‘vine’ 163, 202 M m (see mo [1 sg. subj. pron.]) ma (l sg. poss. det., fern, for thing possessed) (see mo [l sg. poss. det.]) mache, marche, mach (intr. v.) ‘walk’ 123, 231, 242, 252, 261, 276, 349, 350, 360, 368, 390, 391, 395, 408, 434 machin (n.) ‘machine’ 162, 175, 203, 336, 338, 340, 477 madanm, madonm, madam* (GL), madòm (n.) ‘wife; lady; Madam, Mrs.’ 144, 171, 177, 207, 228, 230, etc. madi, mardi (n.) ‘Tuesday’ 206 (la)magazen (n.) ‘barn; store’ 190, 338, 384, 386, 388, 389, 471, 499

mai, mayi (n.) ‘corn’ 36, 166, 171, 208, 211, etc. la majorite* (NF) (n.) ‘majority’ 410 (la)mak, (la)mark* (FC) (n.) ‘mark’ 201, 279 mal (n.) ‘evil, bad things’ 43, 430 mal (adj./adv.) ‘bad, poor; poorly’ 123, 195, 202, 220, 298, 318, 349, etc. mal (n./adj.) ‘male’ 170 mal (n.) ‘illness; pain’ 36, 228, 256, 370; mal-de-tet ‘headache’ 155, 162; mal-de-gòrj ‘sore throat’ 370 (la)mal (n.) ‘mail’ 335, 369 malad (adj.) ‘sick’ 63, 64, 144, 221, 252, etc. maladi (n.) ‘illness, disease’ 202, 204, 205, 290, 307 la malas (see la mlas) malere (adj./n.) ‘sad, unhappy, unfortunate; miserable, unfortunate people’ 309, 310, 389, 410 mam (n.) ‘mom’ 379, 380, 390 maman (see moma) (la)manch, (la)monch (n.) ‘handle’ 163, 358 (la)manch, (la)monch (n.) ‘lane’ (on a plantation) 163, 389, 390, 391 mande, mannde, monde, monnde, demannde* (NH), mann, monn (tr. v.) ‘ask’ 174, 195, 210, 220, 227, 228, 239, 241, 244, 261, 304, 329, 339, 343, 383, 395, 412, 431, 435, 437, 467, 468

manje, monje, manj, monj, mony* (NI) (tr. v.) ‘eat’ 222, 243 manje (n.) ‘food’ 247n23, 294, 353, 359, 364, 391, 433, 434, 443, 444 mank* (NH) (intr. v.) ‘be lacking’ 195 manke* (AS), monke (tr. v.) ‘miss’ 286, 314, 322, 439; (aux. v.) ‘nearly, almost’ 286 manman (see moma) manngk (n.) ‘gap’ 146n10 mansyonnè, monsyonnen* (FV) (n.) ‘mention’ 211 manti, monti (intr. v.) ‘lie, tell lies’ 256, 319, 353, 368 mantre (see montre) manyè, manyèr* (KN), monyè, monyèr* (GS), monyen, moyen* (YC), mwayen, mwanyè* (ME), mwòyen (n.) ‘way’ 196, 202, 204, 236n5, 253, 329, 350, 352, 377, 404, 410, 430; (adv.) ‘rather, kind of, sort of 279, 311, 352, 367, 388, 466 (see also kek-mwòyen and nenpòt-kimanyè) marche (see mache) mardi (see madi) mari (n.) ‘husband’ 65, 157, 172, 174, 193, etc. (la)mark (see [la]mak) marye, mariye (tr. v./intr. v./adj.) ‘marry, get married; married’ 182, 226, 277, 311, 327, 329, 331, 333, 334, 363, 368, 403, 428, 436, 439, 440, 442, 466, 477 mas (n.) ‘March’ 293

maten (n./adv.) ‘morning’ 175, 240, 274, 277, 283, 326, 337, 341, 342, 343, 355, 356, 357, 389, 475; le maten (adv.) ‘in the morning’ 175, 274, 277, 326, 342, 355, 356, 389, 475 matla (n.) ‘mattress’ 166, 229, 369, 390 maton, matan, manton* (JD) (n.) ‘chin’ 145 matou (n.) ‘tomcat’ 170 mayi (see mai) (la)mæd, (la)mærd, (la)mèd, (la)mèrd (n.) ‘shit’ 311; la mæd! (interj.) ‘Shit!’ (on someone); ‘Go to hell!’ 390 mærkrèdi, mèkrèdi, mèrkrèdi (n.) ‘Wednesday’ 228, 230, 324 mærsi (see mèrsi) me (n.) ‘May’ 356 me (l sg. poss. det., pl. for thing possessed) ‘my’ 31, 116, 118, 122, 186–87, 279n65, 497, 500–02, 507 (see mo [1 sg. poss. det.]) mèd (see mete) medikamon, medikaman, medikòmon, medikòman (n.) ‘medicine’ 205, 239, 253, 254, 320, 371, 388, 442 medsen* (ME) (n.) ‘doctor’ 478, 495 melanje, melanjeu (tr. v./adj.) ‘mix, mixed’ 150 mele, mel (tr. v./intr./v./adj.) ‘mix up; mixed up’ 202, 204, 253, 274, 309, 403, 472, 477, 500 mèm, menm (indef. adj.) ‘same’ 115, 182, 192, 197, 203, etc. mèm, menm (adv.) ‘even’ 472

-mem, -menm (reflexive morpheme): li-mèm ‘himself, herself, itself; mo-mem ‘myself; to-mèm ‘yourself,’ etc. 132, 207, 212, 222, 230, 304–05, etc. mem ton (adv.) (at the) ‘same time’ 342 (la)men (n.) ‘hand’ 155, 163, 164, 171, 186, 201, 221, 253, 287, 311, 336, 338, 348, 376, 384, 398 men, me (conj.) ‘but’ 365 mènaj (n.) ‘furniture’ mènaj* (MP) (tr. v.) ‘manage’ 501, 504, 514 mene, menen, mennen, menn, men (tr. v.) ‘bring, take, carry’ 118, 132, 152, 153, 182, 206, 208, 275, 290, 337, 383, 384, 390, 391, 403, 409, 411, 433, 477, 505, 506; mennen soti ‘take out’ 312 mennwi, mènui* (ML), minui* (RD) (n.) ‘midnight’ 260, 380 mens (adj.) ‘thin’ 173, 307 Meriken, meriken (prop, n./adj.) ‘American without a French family background’ 141, 293, 325, 371 meriken (n.) ‘English’ (see also angle) 118, 174, 201, 226, 240, 284, 315, 334, 363, 371, 395, 413 mèrsi, mèsi, mærsi* (AS) (tr. v.) ‘thank; thank you’ 367, 395, 427 (la)mes (n.) ‘mass’ 356, 376, 407, 441, 470 metchèn* (EC), metchenn* (MP) (1 sg. poss. det., pl. for thing possessed) ‘my, my own’ 117, 188, 356, 497, 502, 504, 507 (see also mokèn) mete, met, mèd* (GL), me (tr. v.) ‘put, place; put on, wear’ 32, 33, 235n3, 243–44

metres-d-ekòl, metrès lekòl* (JD, MP) (n. phr.) ‘school teacher’ (female) 123, 408, 463, 468, 500 meyè, meyce, meyæ, myè* (FV) (adj.) ‘better’ 179, 201, 318, 338, 384, 396, 411, 430, 472, 501 (see also mye) (la)mezan, (la)mezon (n.) ‘house’ mezur (see mizire) mi, mir (adj.) ‘ripe’ 157, 167, 174, 182, 298 midi (adv.) ‘noon’ 175, 342, 356, 389, 463, 478, 495; le midi (adv.) ‘at noon’ 175, 342, 356, 389 mil (n.) ‘mile’ 123, 406, 408, 465, 476 mil (card. num.) ‘thousand’ 194, 198 milat, mulat (n.) ‘mulatto’ 377, 403, 408 milatres* (NF) ‘mûlatresse, female mulatto’ 403 mile, mule (n.) ‘mule’ 123, 170, 173, 202, 214, 224, 244, 254, 274, 279, 288, 291, 330–32, 335, 349, 364, 368, 388–91, 408, 409, 434 milye, milyeu, mulyeu* (MP) (n.) ‘middle’ 150. 217, 218, 356, 380 milye ran, milyeu ran, mulyeu leu ran* (MP) (n. phr.) ‘middle row’ (dug-out area between planted rows) 217, 218 milyon (card, num.) ‘million’ 198, 236, 410 milyonè (n.) ‘millionaire’ 293 min (tr. v.) ‘mean’ 118, 224, 327, 368, 403, 407, 435 minit, minut (n.) ‘minute’ 357, 358

minui (see mennwi) mir (see mi) (la)miray (n.) ‘wall’ 163, 187, 359, 379, 380 (la)miriz, ramiriz* (FV) (n.) ‘cherry’ 145 mirwa (n.) ‘mirror’ 238 Misisipi* (GL), Misipi (prop, n.) ‘Mississippi’ 347 misye, misyeu* (JD), misi* (LD), mise* (LD) (n.) ‘sir, Mister’ 27, 34, 35, 87, 157, 430 (le)mit (n.) ‘moth’ 165, 332 miting* (MP) (n.) ‘meeting’ 505 la mizè (n.) ‘trouble, misery, sadness’ 287, 349 mizi, mizur (see a mizi) (la)mizik, (la)muzik (n.) ‘music’ 201, 228, 269, 378–81, 383, 402, 441, 475 mizire, mizure* (AS), mirise* (FV), mizur* (ID), mezur (KP) (tr. v.) ‘measure’ 361 mizisyen, muzisyen* (NF) (n.) ‘musician’ 403 la mlas, la malas* (LD) (n.) ‘molasses’ 360 mo, mon, m (1 sg. subj. pron.) ‘I’ 26, 30–32, 37, 40, 43, 44–46, 206– 11 mo, mon, mow* (NH), mwa, mwò* (GL), mwen (1 sg. obj. or emph. pron.) ‘me’ 26, 33, 34, 42, 43, 44–46, 206–11 mo, mon, ma (fem.), me (pl.) (1 sg. poss. det.) ‘my’ 26, 29, 31, 33– 35, 116–17, 184, 186–87

mò, mòr (see mouri) la mò (n.) ‘death’ 289, 358 mo-mèm, mo-menm (1 sg. refl./emph. pron.) ‘myself 43, 212, 304, 370, 372, 429, 437, 438, 478, 495 mod (see mòrde) mokèn, mokenn, motchèn, motchenn (1 sg. poss. det./poss. pron.) ‘my, my own; mine’ (see also metchèn) 26, 44, 84, 85, 116, 117, 122, 145, 153, 187–88, 208, 212–13, etc. moma, moman, momò, monman, momon, manman, maman* (MP) (n.) ‘mother’ 170 moma, moman, etc. (n.) ‘female of species’ 170, (in combination with animal names); moman chat ‘female cat’ 170; moman chyen ‘female dog’ 170; moman pwason* (NF) ‘female fish’ mòn, monn (n.) (see moun [n.]) (la)monch (see [la]manch) monde, monnde, monn (see mande) monje, monj (see manje) monke (see manke) Monnti* (LD) (prop, n.) ‘Monty’ 224 mons, mwens (adv.) ‘less’ 319; mons ke, mwens ke ‘less than’ 319 monsyonnen (see mansyonnè) (la)mont (n.) ‘watch’ 163, 164, 206, 262, 335

monte (intr./tr. v.) ‘climb, go up, rise; mount’ (a horse) 83, 259, 379, 441, 471; ‘build, erect’ 407 monti (see manti) montre, mantre (tr. v.) ‘show’ 505; ‘teach’ 118, 122, 279, 391, 413, 468, 473, 476, 477, 500, 501, 504 monyè, monyèr, monyen (see manyè) mòr (see mouri) mòrde, mòrd, mòd (tr. v.) ‘bite, sting’ 232, 330, 332, 368, 371, 390, 391, 398, 405 mòrso, mòso (n.) ‘piece’ 117, 168, 212, 218, 290, 398, 427, 476 mòtch (quant, adj./adv.) ‘much’ 145, 186, 409, 427 la motchye, la motche* (AS) (n.) ‘half 388, 408, 410, 413, 433, 498, 499 (see also travaye) (le)mou [lemu], [lem] (n.) ‘lungs, lights’ 152, 165, 207 mou (adj.) ‘soft’ 152, 287, 295, 352 moule, moul (tr. v.) ‘grind’ (e.g., sugar cane, meat, cotton) 150, 316, 326, 335, 365, 369, 439; ‘gin (cotton)’ 312, 368, 471, 488 moulen (n.) ‘mill’ (for grinding sugar cane, ginning cotton, etc.) 164, 168, 237, 307, 390 moun, mounn, monn, mòn (n.) ‘person, people’ 41n16, 152, 174 etc.; ‘members of one’s family’ 339, 467; moun blan ‘white person, people’ 338, 430, 432, 473; moun klœ ‘light-skinned black person, people’ 206, 321; moun koulè ‘black, colored person, people’ 226, 345; moun kreyòl ‘Creole people’ 473, 475; moun nwa ‘black person, people’ 172, 174, 177, 209, 307, 348, 368, 411, 432, 442, 469, 473 mouri, mòr, mò* (LD) (intr. v./adj.) ‘die; dead’ 35, 40, 248

la mous (n.) ‘Spanish moss’ 368, 390 moustach (n.) ‘moustache’ (or other facial hair) 199, 298 (la)moutad, (la)moutard (n.) ‘mustard’ (greens) 365, 444 mouton (n.) ‘sheep’ 153 (la)mòv (see demòv) move, movez (rare fem, form) (adj.) ‘bad; mean’ 117, 171, 201–02, 231, 289, 318, 397, 474 mow (see mo [1 sg. obj. pron.]) moyen (see manyè) mulat (see milat) mule (see mile) mulyeu (see milye) (la)muzik (see [la]mizik) muzisyen (see mizisyen) mwa (n.) ‘month’ 123, 149, 294, 333, 338, etc. mwa, mwò, mwen (1 sg. obj. or emph. pron) (see mo [1 sg. obj. or emph. pron.]) (la)mwal, (la)mwel (n.) ‘brain; marrow’ 163 mwayen, mwanyè, mwòyen (see manyè) mwens, mwens ke (see mons) mye, myeu, myœ* (FL), myi* (GL) (adv.) ‘better’ 116, 118, 124, 275, 282, 298, 309, 310, 311, 318, 350, 366, 409, 427, 444, 501, 502, 503

(see also meyè); leu myeu* (MP) ‘the best’ 501 myè (adj.) (see meyè) mzur (see a mizi) N η (see nou [1 pl. pron.]) na (adv.) ‘now’ 342, 365, 396, 397, 429, 430, 464, 465, 468, 473, 476, 480 na, nan (exist, v.) (see ena) naje (intr. v.) ‘swim’ 404 nan (prep.) (see dan [prep.]) nan (postnominal def. det.) (see la [postnominal def. det.]) nan (n.) (see non [n.]) nan (adv.) (see non [adv.]) nanm (n.) ‘soul’ 186, 407 napa (n.) ‘bait’ 365 nasyon (n.) ‘racial or ethnic group’ 403 nave (exist, v.) (see ena) nœrvez* (ML), nœrveuz* (ID) (adj.) ‘nervous’ 221, 296 nda, ndan (see andan) ne (n.) (see nen) ne (intr. v.) ‘born’ 121, 178, 202, 203, 230, 231, 247, etc. nè de ton (see è de tan) nechel (n.) ‘ladder’ 161, 162, 288

nef (η.) (see dezèf) nef, neuf* (MP) (adj.) ‘new’ 205, 297, 334, 407, 428, 431, 441, 499 (see Chemen Nef) nef, neuf, nœf* (MP); nev, nœv* (LD) (before è and an) (card, num.) ‘nine’ 123, 149, 197–98, 259, 308, 408, 427, 428, 506 neg (n.) ‘black, black person’ 27, 43, 238, 261, 313, 339, 403, 408 neg (n., form of address) ‘man’ 331 negres (n.) ‘black woman’ 202 negwi, negwiy, legwi, legwiy (n.) ‘needle’ 161, 332, 398, 431 nekel, nekèyl (see lekel) nekla (see zekla) nen, ne (n.) ‘nose’ 202, 352 nenpòt* (NF) (indef. pron.) ‘whatever’ 364, 410 nenpòt-eou* (MP) (adv.) ‘anywhere, wherever’ 506, 507 nenpòt-ki, nenmpòt-ki, nenmpòrt-ki (indef. adj.) ‘any’ 165, 204 nenpòt-ki* (LD) (indef. pron.) ‘anyone’ 221, 227, 377, 404, 415, 504 nenpòt-ki, nenpòt-ki-chò, nenpòt-ki-chòj, nenpòt-kè-chò* (NC) (indef. pron.) ‘anything, whatever’ 221, 247n22, 317, 355, 372, 410, 501; ‘either one’ 221 nenpòt-ki-manyè* (AS), nenpòt-ki-mwòyen* (LD) (adv.) ‘any way, it doesn’t matter how’ 204, 350 nenpòt-ki-moun* (NF) (indef. pron.) ‘anyone’ 204, 404, 415

nenpòt-ki-plas* (GL) (adv.) ‘anywhere’ 230, 397 nenpòt-ki-tan* (ML) (adv.) ‘any time’ 204 nepenng (n.) ‘pin’ 145, 146 nepòl (see lepòl) nespes (see lespès) net (rare) (adv.) ‘completely, thoroughly’ 353 netalon (see letalon) netwaye, lètwaye* (ND), netway* (NI) (tr. v.) ‘clean’ 226, 239, 240, 359 neuf (adj.) (see nef[adj.]) neuf (card, n.) (see nef [card. n.]) neye, nwòye* (ID) (tr./intr. v.) ‘drown’ 232; ‘flood’ 205, 166 nev (see nef[card. n.]) ni, nu* (NF), ni… ni (conj.) ‘neither, neither… nor’ (see also pa… ni) 208, 328–29, 365, 376, 406 nide (see lide) nil plas, nul plas* (FV) (adv.) ‘nowhere, not anywhere’ 314, 328 (see also nul pa and pa… nul plas) ni-pye (adv./adj.) ‘barefoot’ 434, 452 nœf, nœv (card, num.) (see nef [card, num.]) nokèn, nokenn, noukèn, noukenn* (KS), notchèn, notchenn, noutchèn, noutchenn, nouzòtchèn* (MP), nouzòtchenn* (MP) (1 pl.

poss. det./poss. pron.) ‘our, our own; ours’ 145, 187–88, 212, 430, 472, 473, 476, 506, 507 non, nan* (NH) (n.) ‘name’ 116, 118, 192, 193, 203, etc.; ti non ‘nickname’ 199, 390 non, nan (adv.) ‘no’ 35, 189, 195, 240, 258, 281, 304, 321 etc. non plu, no plu (see pa… non plu) nonk (n.) ‘uncle’ 170, 383, 402, 464, 466 nonm, nòm, òm* (RD) (n.) ‘man’ 65, 152, 161, 164, 171, 174, 175 etc. noriye (see lorye) (la)nòs (n.) ‘wedding’ 182 not* (ME) (n.) ‘note’ (enn not la muzik ‘a note of music’) 475 nou, no, nouzòt, nouzò, nouzo, n (1 pl. pron.) ‘we, us’ 206–12 nou, no, nouzòt (1 pl. poss. det.) ‘our’ 186 nou-mèm, nou-menm, no-menm (1 pl. refl./emph. pron.) ‘ourselves’ 207, 304, 331 nouvel (fem, adj.) ‘new’ 200–01, 366 (see also [la]lin) nouvo (adj.) ‘new’ 162, 164, 200–01, 229, 331 nouvraj (see louvraj) nouzòt (see nou) nouzòtchèn, nouzòtchenn (see nokèn) novanm (n.) ‘November’ 358

nu (see ni and pa… ni) nul pa* (MP), nul par* (MP) (adv.) ‘nowhere’ 499; nul pa dòt* (MP) ‘nowhere else, not anywhere else’ 328 (see also nil plas) nwa, nwar (adj.) ‘black’ 64, 172, 174, 177, 199, 202, 209 etc.; ‘dark (of meat)’ 220 nwa, nwar (n.) ‘black person’ 123, 177, 193, 218, 237, 238 etc. la nwit, nwi (n./adv.) ‘night; at night’ 147, 199, 259, 288, 312, 338, 341, 342, etc. nwòye (see neye) nyès (n.) ‘niece’ 65, 157, 172, 174, 431 O o, oben, obyen* (MP), ouben, oubyen* (MP) ou (conj.) Or’ 365–66 o bòr isit (see an bòr isit) o bout, an bout, on bout* (LD) (adv./prep.) ‘at the end of, after’ 156, 222, 230, 346, 358, 361, 377, 389 œn (indef. det.) (see en [indef. det.]) œn, œnn (card. num.) (see en [card. num.]) œn, œnn (indef. pron.) (see enn [indef. pron.]) n-a-lòt, œnn-a-lòt (see èn-a-lòt) œr (see è) œr deu tan (see è de tan) oke* (RD) (interj.) ‘okay’ 379

oken (quant. det.) ‘no, not any’ 123, 197, 224, 353, 408 òktòb (n.) ‘October’ 284, 357 okupe, okup* (GL), okip* (NH) (intr. v.) 237, 239; okupe apre ‘take care of’ 237, 239 òl, hòl (n.) ‘dance hall’ 403, 468 olanng, olon (see anlon) ole, ol (tr./aux. v.) ‘want’ 43, 119, 235n3, 247 (see also ve, voudre, voule) Oliva* (AS) (prop. n.) ‘Oliver’ (town in Pointe Couee Parish) 283, 294 o lòt bò (see lòt bò) olyè* (LD), oryè* (ID), oryen* (ID) (prep./conj.) ‘instead of’ 208, 356, 363, 371 òm (see nonm) on (prep.) (see an [prep.]) onba (see anba) onbet (see anbete) ondan, ondon, onndon (see andan) on dœriyen (see an dariyen) on dire (see an dire) onè (see fiy-d-onè) onét (adj.) ‘honest’ 145

ongle (see angle) onkò (see ankò) onmèr (see ormi) onn (prep.) (see an [prep.]) onnaryè (see annœryè) onnavon (see annavon) onne* (LD) (tr. v./ aux. v.) ‘have’ 376 on prémyè, on prenmyen, on prenmye (see an prèmyen) ont (see hont) ontre (intr. v.) (see antre [intr. v.]) onvon (see avan) onvon jou (see avon jou) onz (card, num.) ‘eleven’ 151, 197, 236, 358, 500, 501 ora (prep.) ‘around, near, beside’ 118, 275, 282, 361, 380, 499, 504– 06 o riflon (see an riflan) ormi, onmèr* (ME), anmœ* (ME), anmèr* (ME) (conj.) ‘unless’ 371– 72, 479, 496 orye (n.) (see lorye) oryè, oryen (prep./conj.) (see olyè)

osi, osit, oust (adv.) ‘also, too’ 355; osi… ke, osi… kòm ‘as… as’ 195, 207, 319–20, 334, 412, 434, 503 -òt (see lòt [indef. adj.]) otan, oton (quant. det./indef. pron.) ‘as much’ 194; otan… ke, otan… kòm ‘as much … as’ 118, 194, 279, 283, 319–20 ote, òt (tr. v.) ‘remove, extract; take off, take out, take away’ 177, 203, 210, 218, 223, 239, 240, 242, 243, 253, 262, 274, 315, 323, 324, 341, 353, 367, 371, 379, 389, 396, 412, 435 oto, otomobil (n.) ‘car’ 329, 472, 499, 505 otour (see antour) otrèmon* (LD) (adv.) ‘otherwise’ 350 ou (2 sg. pron., polite) (see vou) ou (inter. adv.) (see ao) ou (conj.) (see o) ouben, oubyen (see o) oubliye (see bliye) ouchka, ouska (see ichka) oura (intr. v.) ‘hurry’ 241, 248 ouragon (see larògon) ousi (see osi) ouska, ouchka (see iska)

ouvè, ouvœ* (AS), ouvri, ouvrè* (AS), ouvr, ouv (tr./intr. v./adj.) ‘open’ 197, 204, 238–42, 246, 257, 287, 288, 294, 309, 311, 328, 341, 350, 359, 365, 379, 380, 382, 388, 501, 505 ouvraj (see louvraj) ouzò, ouzòt (pron.) (see vouzòt [2 sg. pl. pron.]) ouzò, ouzokenn (see vouzòt [2 pl. poss. pron.]) òvan, ovon (see avan) P pa (n.) term of friendship and respect; ‘bre’r’ (in folktales) 255n39, 329 pa, p, pen (before en) (adv.) ‘not’ 320–29 pa … ankò (adv.) ‘not anymore; not yet’ (see also pi and poko) 182, 207, 241, 257, 258, 292, 298, 304, 307, 323, 326–27, 329, 344, 395, 403, 465, 472, 505 pa aryen (see aryen) padan (see pandan) padèsu* (JL), pardèsu, pardeusu* (EC) (adv./prep.) ‘on, on top of’ 348, 361 padna (n.) ‘friend’ 379 pa enn (indef. pron.) ‘none, not one’ 219, 328 pa fèt* (FV) (aux. v., neg.) ‘cannot, not able’ 247n22, 275 pa fouti, pa foutu (aux. v., neg.) ‘cannot, not be able, not be allowed’ 122, 210, 212n58, 241, 242, 275, 354, 388–91, 500, 501, 506, 507

pa … gran-chòz (see gran-chòj) pakann, pakonn (n.) ‘pecan’ 161n5, 171, 498, 499 pakanyen, pakonyen (n.) ‘pecan tree’ 161n5, 171, 193 pake (n.) ‘package, pack’(of cigarettes) 276, 283 pakò (see pòkò) pale, pal, parl (see parle) palet (n.) ‘pod’ 171, 197, 320 paltron, patron, patrannn* (GL) (n.) ‘pattern for sewing’ 398 panari (n.) ‘whitlow’ 287, 311 pandan, padan (conj.) ‘during, while’ 370, 408, 466 pangnen, panyen* (EC), pongnen (n.) ‘basket’ 183 pa… ni, pa…ni… ni, pa nu* (NF) (adv.) ‘neither, neither … nor’ 208, 328–29, 376 pa… non plu, pa…no plu* (LD) (adv.) ‘not either’ 35, 217, 323, 328, 403 panse* (FV), pans, pons (v.) ‘think’ 132, 223, 243, 364, 384, 464, 501, 505 pantalon* (LD), patalon* (FV), pentalon* (LD) (n.) ‘pants, trousers’ 279, 316 pa … nul plas, janmen … nil plas (adv.) ‘nowhere, not anywhere’ 314, 328 pap (n.) ‘dad, pop’ 179

papa (see popa) papye (n.) ‘paper’ 173 par (prep.) ‘by; with, because of; from’ 86, 88, 177, 316, 362, 363, 379, 380, 389, 411, 427, 440 paradi (n.)‘heaven’435, 453 paran, paron (n.) ‘parent(s); relative’ 84, 353, 411, 465, 467, 472, 502 pardèsu, pardeusu (see padèsu) pare (adj.)‘ready’ 260, 275, 298, 327, 337, 341, 353, 369, 396 paren (n.) ‘godfather’ parèy, pare (adj.) ‘like; the same’ 123, 197, 226, 254, 291, 298, 320, etc. Parlanj* (AS) (prop. n.) ‘Parlange’ (family name and plantation in Pointe Coupee Parish) 283, 297, 390 parle, pale, pari, pal (tr./intr. v.) ‘speak’ 243; parle pou ‘talk about’ 188, 229, 314, 382, 383, 499, 506; parle on ‘talk about’ (someone), ‘say disparaging things about’ (someone) 506; ‘say a prayer over someone to heal him or her’ 207, 390, 391 parmi (prep.) ‘among’ 223, 363, 371 parol (n.) ‘word’ 117, 183, 195, 201, 227–29, 281, 296, 396, 428 partè, partèr* (FN), pate, patèr* (RD) (adv.) ‘on the ground, on the floor’ 173, 348, 366, 379, 391 parti, pati, par* (LD) (intr. v.) ‘leave’ 27, 238, 313, 335, 377, 379, 380, 501, 505

partou, patou (see tou-partou) parwas (n.) ‘parish’ 232, 358, 408, 411 pasaj* (LD) (n.) ‘passage’ 365 pase, pas (tr./intr. v.) ‘pass, pass by, go by way of’ 16, 144, 209, 229, 253, 314, 323, 331, 338, 360, 365, 366, 382, 390, 431, 439, 476; ‘experience, go through’ 287, 349, 431 pase (tr. v.) ‘pass (a law)’ 193, 409, 411 pase (tr. v.) ‘go over (something) with (something)’ 311, 339 pase, arpase* (MP) (tr. v.) ‘iron’ 238, 313 pase,… ki pase (adj.) ‘last (week, month, year, etc.); ago’ 123, 232, 240, 253, 262, 288, 318, 322, 328, 338, 340–41, etc. pase (prép.) ‘after, past’ (in telling time) 357 pase (adv.) ‘except for, only, beyond’ 123, 141n5, 171, 182, 197, 203, 209, 217, 218, 229, 247n23, 263, 293, 294, 325, 326, 353, 408, 434 pase (adv.) used in comparative and quantitative constructions 87, 182, 195, 200, 220, 224, 277, 313, 318–19, 325, 366 pase, paseu, pask, paskè, paskeu, paski (conj.) ‘because’ 370 pa… sèlman (see sèlman) (la)pat (n.) ‘dough, batter’ 149, 364, 365, 439 pat (n.) ‘foot (of an animal or an object), paw, claw; leg (rare)’ 253, 365, 366, 390, 391 patalon (see pantalon)

patasa (n.) ‘various species of sunfish’ 145, 240, 309, 355 patat (n.) ‘potato’ 34, 196, 205, 221, 237–39, 244, 307, 339, 370, 372, 471; patat angle, patat anglez* (ID) ‘(Irish) potato’ 237; patat dous ‘sweet potato’ 221, 237 Paten Daik (prop. n.) ‘Patin Dyke’ (town in Pointe Coupee Parish) 356 patou (see tou partou) patron, patrann (see paltron) (la)pay (n.) ‘straw; various outer parts of plant (leaves, vines, hulls, etc.)’ 196 payas (n.) ‘bedding consisting of a cloth envelope stuffed with corn shucks’ 147, 369 paye (tr. v.) ‘spread, scatter’ 196, 288, 388 pœd, pœrd, pèd, pèrd, pèdi* (FV), pèrdu (tr. v.) ‘lose’ 166, 245, 317, 395, 403, 502, 503, 507 pœrsòn, pœsòn* (FV), pœsonn* (NF), pèrsonn, pèsòn, pèsonn (indef. pron.) ‘no one, not anyone’ 87, 121, 211, 224, 231, etc. pœrsòn, pèrsonn, pèsòn, pésonn (n.) (rare) ‘person’ (see moun) 292, 437, 499, 501 pe, peu (quant. adv.)‘little, few’; en pe, en ti pe (quant. det.) ‘a little, a little bit’ 196, 352 pe, peu (aux. v.) ‘can, be able to’ 188, 231, 273–74, 276, 323–24, 371, 382, 389, 403, 407–12, 428, 463, 468, 469, 499, 501, 505, 506 (see also kapab, poura, pouve, pu) pe (intr. v., imperative only) ‘Be quiet! Shut up!’ 389–90

pè, pèr* (KS), pœr* (MP) (intr./tr. v./adj.) ‘fear, be afraid’ 223, 289, 325, 367, 382, 383, 397, 508; fe pè ‘frighten’ 223, 367, 382, 383 pè, pèr, pœr* (YC) (n.) ‘Father’ (address for priest or when praying to God) 436, 437, 469, 470 pè, pèr* (YC) (n.) ‘pair’ 279, 316, 431 pèch (see depèch) peche (n.) ‘sin’ 435, 453 peche (tr./intr. v.) ‘fish, go fishing’ 207, 405, 406 peche (intr. v.) ‘sin’ 145 peche (tr. v.) ‘prevent’ 262, 368, 377, 397, 398 pèd, pèrdu (see pad) pei, peyi (n.) ‘country, land’ 188, 231, 323, 403, 429, 437 (la)pel, (la)pèyl (n.) ‘spade’ 148, 163 pele, aple* (AS), pel, apèl* (RD) (tr. v.) ‘call’ 243 pen (seepa [adv.]) penm* (LD) (interj.) ‘bam!’ 365 penn (n.) ‘pan’ 366 penn (see a penn) pentalon (see pantalon) pentire, penture* (MP), pent* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘paint’ 153 pèrd (see pœd)

pèrsonn, pèsòn, pèsonn (see pœrsòn [indef. pron.] and [n.]) pete (en) batay* (KS) (v. phr.) ‘start a fight’ 222, 286, 307, 339, 384 petèt, peutèt (adv.) ‘maybe’ 355 peu (quant. adv.) (see pe [quant. adv.]) peu (aux. v.) (see pe [aux. v.]) peye, pey (tr. v.) ‘pay’ 171, 173, 222, 275, 277, etc. peyi (see pei) (la)pèyl (see [la]pel) peze, pez, pèz* (LD) (tr./intr. v.) ‘weigh’ 284 pi, pi… ankò, pli… ankò* (NH) (adv.) ‘no longer, not anymore’ 118, 220, 240, 253, 283, 326–27, 336, 405 (see also pa… ankò) pichtach* (ID), pistach* (MP) (n.) ‘peanut’ 176, 254 pike, pik (tr. v.) ‘prick, sting’ 145, 165, 199, 262, 398 pike (v.) ‘have sexual intercourse’ 312 pike (tr. v.) ‘stitch’ 161, 369 piknik* (ME) (n.) ‘picnic’ 473, 474 pini* (JL), puni* (ME) (tr. v.) ‘punish’ 503, 504 la pip (n.) ‘tobacco pipe’ 276, 347 pir (adj.) ‘pure’ 202–03, 309 (see also pyo) piti (n.) ‘child’ 64, 66n51, 86, 89, 121, 123, 124, 148, 161n4, 173 etc.

piti (adj.) ‘little, small’ 148, 197, 200, 203, 320, 354, 382, 384, 431 (see also ti) pito (tr./aux. v.) ‘rather, prefer’ 277 pito (adv.) ‘rather, more like’ 241, 350, 363, 369, 504 piy* (ID) (n.) ‘stake’ 244 piyant (see tòti) piye (see pye) piyoche (see pyoche) plak (n.) ‘stove burner’ 348 plakmin (n.) ‘persimmon’ 262, 507 (di)plan, (di)plant, (di)plon, plant* (OL), plon* (SD) (n.) ‘plant; seedling’ 166, 352, 364, 280, 327; diplan dekann ‘seed cane’ 310, 318 (la)planch* (AS), (la)plonch* (LD) (n.) ‘board’ 200, 388 planche, plonche* (DG) (n.) ‘floor; bed (of a sled)’ 175, 366, 441, 501 plante, plannte, plonte, plant* (AS), plann* (ML), plan* (ID) (tr. v.) ‘plant’ 176, 182, 205, 211, 230, 243, etc. plarin (n.) ‘praline’ 168 plas* (AS) (n.) ‘political office’ 132, 224, 307, 325 (see galope) (la)plas, (le)plas* (JD) (n.) ‘place’ 119, 165, 193, 204, 230, etc.; ‘property, home’165, 188, 283, 294, 315, 406, 501; ‘plantation’ 165, 218, 333 (see also kek-plas) plat (adj.) ‘flat’ 205, 321, 348

plen (adj.) ‘full’ 172, 289, 297, 304, 345, 364 plen (quant. det./adv./indef. pron.) ‘many, lots of; much, a lot’ 86, 193, 223, 353 la plezi* (FV), plèzir* (MP) (n.) ‘pleasure, fun’ 293, 346 pli, plu (adv.) ‘more’ 318 (see also pa non plu) pli… pli, plu… plu (adv.) ‘the more … the more’ 319, 353, 467 (la)pli, (la)plu, (la)plui* (KN) (n.) ‘rain’ 163, 164, 298, 338, 340, 355 pliche, pluche, pitch (tr. v.) ‘peel, shell, shuck’ plis, plus, plu (quant. det.) ‘more’ 195, 318 (di)plon (see [di]plan) (la)plonch (see [la]planch) plonche (see planche) plonte (see plante) (la)plòt (n.) ‘ball; baseball’ 149, 286, 321, 377 pluzyè* (LD), pluzyèr* (LD) (indef. pron.) ‘several, a few’ 207, 224 (la)po (n.) ‘skin, hide, leather’ 132, 163; la po bef ‘cowhide’ 164, 244, 361, 384 pobon (n.) ‘pitcher’ 151 pòch (n.) ‘pocket’ 434 pœr (intr./tr. v./adj.) (seepè [intr./tr. v./adj.]) pok* (NI) (n.) ‘pork’ 274

poka (n.) ‘poker’ 377 pòkò, pakò* (NI) (adv.) ‘not yet’ 323, 327, 343, 466 (see also pa … ankò) pol (n.) ‘pole; fishing pole’ 244, 406, 476 la politik (n.) ‘politics’ 364, 410 (le)pomon (n.) ‘lungs’ 165 pon, pwon, pwen (n.) ‘fist’ 356, 384 (see also kou-d-pwon) pongnen (see pangnen) ponn (v.) ‘lay eggs, spawn’ 435 ponn (tr. v.) ‘hang’ 249 ponn, pann, pannd (n.) ‘pond’ 356, 359, 406 pons (see panse) popa, pòpò* (BD), papa (n.) ‘father’ 85, 117, 170, 177, 184, 186, 187, 188 etc. (see also pap) popa (n.) ‘male of species’ (in combination with animal names) 170; popa chyen ‘male dog’ 170; popa chat ‘tomcat’ 170 populè* (AS) (adj.) ‘popular’ 348 poro (n.) ‘wart’ 164 la postim, la pòstum (n.) ‘pus’ 287, 311 (la)pòt, (la)pòrt (n.) ‘door’ 163, 166, 232, 242, 288, 294, 328, 331, 359, 364, 365, 382, 388, 468, 476 poto (n.) ‘post’ 149, 226

pòtrin, pòtray* (RD) (n.) ‘chest’ 221, 351 (see frison pòtrin) pou, pour (prep.) ‘for; before, to, till’ (in telling time) 355, 362; ‘to, toward’ 362; ‘about’ 362; used to indicate possession 188–89, 361; (conj.) ‘to’ 370–71 pouki* (CM) (inter, adv.) ‘why’ 321, 335 (see also kofé) poul (n.) ‘chicken’ 150, 172, 177, 204, 277, 361, 364, 376, 397, 406, 435, 444 poura (aux. v.) ‘will be able to’ 118, 138, 275 (see also kapab, pe, pouve, pu) pouri (intr. v.) ‘spoil, rot’ 248, 325 pous (n.) ‘thumb’ 390 pous (n.) ‘inch’ 198 pouse, pous* (FV) (tr. v.) ‘push’ 240 pouse (intr. v.) ‘grow’ 164 la pousyè (n.) ‘dust’ 304, 325 pouve* (LD) (aux. v.) ‘could’ 275 (see also kapab, pe, poura, pu) pòv (adj./n.) ‘poor’ 410, 505; ‘poor person’ 188, 195, 246n20 poze (intr. v.) ‘rest’ 239, 274, 279, 324, 388 poze (tr. v.) (see èkspoze) pozisyon (n.) ‘position’ 281, 292 pran, prann, pron, pròn* (ID) (tr. v.) ‘take’ 246, 248; (intr. v.) ‘begin, start’* (RD) 286, 379 (see also pri)

pranga, prannga (imperative v.) ‘watch out, be careful’ 315 pratike* (LD) (tr. v.) ‘use, speak’ 275 pre* (FG) (see apèpre) prèche* (ME) (n.) ‘sermon, preaching’ 470 preche, prèch* (NF) (tr. v.) ‘preach’ 407, 413 prechke* (GL), prèski* (FN) (adv.) ‘almost’ 353, 369, 396 prèmyè, prèmyen, prenmyen, prenmyè, primyè, preumye, proemyœ* (JL) (adj./ord. num./adv.) ‘first’ 122, 152, 204, 205, 294, etc.; prenmyen kouzen ‘first cousin’ 428, 466 (see also an prèmyen) prèt (n.) ‘priest’ 297, 371, 407, 408, 412, 413, 474 (see also pè) prete, prèt (tr. v.) ‘loan; borrow’ 211, 221, 232, 243, 278, 434 prezan (n.) ‘present’ 230, 366 prezidan, prezidon (n.) ‘president’ 175, 369, 409 pri* (FV) (past part./adj.) ‘stuck’ 31, 299 (see also pran) prin (see deprim) pritcha* (NF) (n.) ‘preacher’ 412 (la)priyè, (la)priyèr* (KS) (n.) ‘prayer’ 148, 163, 164, 362, 390, 391, 407, 413 priye (v.) (rare) ‘pray’ 148, 208, 255, 412 priyen* (ML), pruyen* (JD) 152

, prumyen* (AS)

prizon (n.) ‘jail, prison’ 219, 345, 389, 390

(n.) ‘plum tree’

prizonyen (n.) ‘prisoner’ 152 pròch (adv.) ‘near; almost, nearly’ 348, 354 prœmyœ (see prèmyè) promès* (NF) (n.) ‘promise’ 409 pron, pròn (see pran) prònons* (KN) (tr. v.) ‘pronounce’ 347 prop (adj.) ‘clean, clear’ 205, 254, 297, 354, 364, 368 protestan* (NH), proteston* (NH) (n./adj.) ‘Protestant’ 204 pu* (aux. v.) (rare past form) ‘could’ 118, 275, 506 (see also kapab, pe, poura, pouve) puni (see pint) pwa, pwò* (LD) (n.) ‘weight’ 167, 194 (de)pwa, ti-pwa* (ID) (n.) ‘pea’ 308 pwason (n.) ‘fish’ 199, 320, 405, 406; pwason armen ‘garfish’ pwazon, pwazan* (ID) (n.) ‘poison; venom’ 203 pwen, pwon (see pon) la Pwent Koupe (prop. n.) ‘Pointe Coupee’ 408, 411 pwente* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘point’ 325 pwenti* (ML), pwentu* (MP) (adj.) ‘pointed’ 352 pyas (n.) ‘dollar’ 145, 147, 171, 173, 193, 207, 223, 235, 285, 389, 410, 411, 469, 499

pye (n.) ‘foot (part of body)’ 155, 262, 356, 390, 434, 452 pye (n.) ‘foot’ (unit of measure) 196, 366 pye, piye (n.) ‘individual plant or tree’ 195, 196, 282, 350, 352 pyèj (n.) ‘trap’ 365 pyèste (tr. v.) ‘patch (clothes)’ 398 pyo (adj.) ‘pure’ (see also pir) 202–03 (la)pyòch (n.) ‘hoe’ 163, 311, 339 pyoche, piyoche* (YC), pyòch (tr. v.) ‘hoe’ 161, 243, 256 R ra (adj.) ‘rare’262; byen ra ‘very rare(ly)’ 262 raboure (see labouré) rabwa* (FC), radbwa* (ID), ratbwa* (AS) (n.) ‘Opposum’ 177, 238 rache, arache* (AS), rach (tr. v.) ‘pull out’ 274, 438 rakle, (n.) ‘whipping, beating’ 149 rakòltè (n.) (see rekoltè) rakonte (tr. v.) ‘tell’ 227n62, 256, 379; rakonte de kont’ tell stories; gossip’ 256 (see also konte) Rakoursi* (ME), Rakousi* (ME) (prop. n.) ‘Raccourci’ (formerly a town in Pointe Coupee Parish) 465, 466, 476 ramase, ramas (tr. v.) ‘gather, pick’ 30, 33, 121, 161n5, 164, 171, 173, 179, 204, 209, 217, 218, 240, 335, 341, 368, 369, 390, 443, 471, 500

ramiriz (see [la]miriz) ran (n.) ‘planted row in a field’ 151, 194, 217, 218, 242, 360 (see also re and seyon) ranje, ronje* (LD), ran) (tr. v.) ‘fix, repair’ 229; ‘prepare’ 230, 369, 397, 477; ranje la tab ‘set the table’ 365 rann* (OL) (tr. v.) ‘return, give back, pay back’ 278, 235n3 (la)ranp (n.) ‘ramp providing access to a body of water’ 345 ranpli (tr. v./adj.) ‘fill, full’ 239, 248, 276 rantour (see a lantour) rantre, rontre, rant, ront* (LD) (intr./tr. v.) ‘go into, go inside, go/come home’ 241, 245, 275, 297, 337, 354, 388, 466, 468, 479, 480, 496, 497; ‘put in, bring in; bring in a crop’ 245, 259, 357, 471 raple, rapel, rapèl, rapèyl* (FV) (tr. v.) ‘remember’ 244, 305, 339, 345, 359, 383, 389, 408, 413, 467, 475 rasin (n.) ‘root’ 172n23, 204, 253 ratbwa (see rabwa) rœg (n.) ‘rag’ 476 re (n.) ‘furrow’ 350 (see also ran and seyon) red (adj.) ‘stiff’ 132 rekoltè, rakòltè* (SD) (n.) ‘farmer’ 211, 293 rèkonni* (NH), rèkonnu* (NH) (adj.) ‘recognized’ 316, 362 rekòt, rekòl (n.) ‘crop, harvest’ 188, 211, 259, 321, 326, 357, 388, 470, 471

rèlizyon (see [la]lijyon) rèlman, rèlmon (adv.) ‘really’ 338, 355, 430 remarye* (NF) (intr. v.) ‘remarry’ 232 ren (n.) ‘spine; lower back’ 151, 167 renj (see lenj) rense (n.) ‘whipping, beating’ 151 reponn, repòn* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘answer’ 227, 246, 256 repoubliken, rèpòbliken* (NF), ripoubliken* (EC) (n./adj.) ‘Republican’ 223, 347, 411 rèsevwa, resevwar* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘get, receive’ 248; ‘receive, entertain (company)’ resi* (NH), reisi* (ME), reysi* (NC) (intr. v/aux. v.) ‘succeed’ 235n3, 339, 472 reste, rete, res, ret (intr./cop. v.) ‘live, stay (someplace); stay, remain (in a certain condition or location)’ 245, 299 rèstoran, lèstoran* (OL) (n.) ‘restaurant’ 209, 324, 334 rete ‘stop’ (see arete) reve (tr. v.) ‘dream’ 342, 436 reve (intr. v.) (see leve) reveye (intr./tr. v.) ‘wake up’ 389, 475 rezon (intr. v./adj.) ‘be right’ 377 ri (intr. v.) ‘laugh’ 248, 383, 503

(la)ri (n.) ‘street’ 230 rich (adj.) ‘rich’ 87, 195, 280, 360, 502 riflan, riflon (see an riflan) ritayd* (BD) (adj.) ‘retired’ 304 rive* (LD) (n.) ‘rivet’ 358 rive, arive, riv, ariv* (MP) (tr. v.) ‘arrive, get to’ 86, 222, 243, 342, 358, 368, 390, 429, 504, 506 (see also arive ‘happen’) (la)rivyè* (NF), la rivyèr* (MP), la riviyèf* (MP), la ruvyè* (BD), la livyè* (KS)(n./prop. n.) ‘river; False River’ 199, 232, 308, 377, 406, 498 (see also la Fòs Rivyè) rob (n.) ‘dress’ 431 ronje (see ranje) rontre, ront (see rantre) rou (n.) ‘roux’ 207, 244, 287, 321, 352, 396, 397; rou sek* (GL) ‘dry roux’ 397; rou gra* (GL) ‘roux made with grease’ 397 rouj (adj.) ‘red’ 145, 206, 339, 466 roule, loure* (FV), roul (tr./intr. v.) ‘roll’ 174, 359, 364 roule (tr. v.) ‘grind (sugar cane)’ 297 roulezan, roulezon (see la lezan) roulo, ròl* (AS) (n.) ‘rollers that crush the cane in a sugar mill’ 247, 297, 360 la rout* (MP) (n.) ‘way’; tou la rout* (MP) ‘all the way’ 505 la roze (n.) ‘dew’ 337 (see also seren)

la ruvyè (see [la]rivyè) S s (see dan l tan) sa, ha* (FV) (pron.) ‘it, they, that; he, she (rare)’ 78, 206, 208, 211 sa (rare) (rel. pron.) ‘that, which’ 78, 225, 227–28, 230 (see also ki [rel. pron.]) sa (inter. pron.) ‘what’ 330–32 sa (rare) Preverbal marker of future tense 26, 62–63, 258–60 (see also a) sa (3 sg. poss. det., fern, for thing possessed) (see so) sa-fe (conj.) ‘so, then’ 366 sa-ki, sa-k (rel. pron.) ‘that/the one(s) which, who; what’ 225, 228; (inter. pron.) ‘who, what’ 330–31 sa-ki fe (v. phr.) ‘the reason that, the reason why’ 201, 222, 370, 389, 430, 466, 468 -sa-la, -sa-l, -sa-a, -sa (sg. dem. det.) ‘this, that’ 65, 156–57, 163, 181–84 sa-la, sa-l, sa-a, sa (sg. dem. pron.) ‘this (one), that (one)’ 217 -sa-ye (pl. dem. det.) ‘these, those’ 65, 117, 154, 156–57, 163–64, 182–83 sa-ye (pl. dem. pron.) ‘these, those’ 117, 217–18 sabo (n.) ‘hoof’ 167, 173, 391 saf(adj.) ‘greedy’ 145

sak (n.) ‘sack’ 145, 150, 199, 244, 254 sal (n.) ‘living room’ 504 sal (adj.) ‘dirty’ 164 sale (tr. v./adj.) ‘salt; salted, salty’ 254, 262, 304 sali* (MP) (tr. v.) ‘get dirty, soil’ 504, 514 san, son (prep./conj.) ‘without’ 88n80, 289, 339, 363, 372, 398, 397, 431 san, son (card. num.) ‘hundred’ 118, 149, 171, 177, 198, 203, 226, 471, 499 sanm, sanmb, sonm, sòm (tr. v.) ‘resemble, look like’ 298, 340, 466, 467, 472; ‘seem, appear’ 298, 308, 318, 372, 395 sanmdi, sonmdi (n.) ‘Saturday’ 293, 294, 309, 346, 365, 379, 441 (la)sante, sannte* (ML) (n.) ‘health’ 153, 163–64, 177, 201, 291 santi, san (tr./intr. v.) ‘smell’ 202, 238, 242, 245, 253, 331, 397 santi* (LD), san, son (intr./refl. v.) ‘feel’ 145, 148, 150, 245, 235n3, 304, 318, 370, 372, 437, 438 savon (n.) ‘soap’ 471 sœ (n.) (see sè [n.]) sœrsèl (n.) ‘blue-winged teal’ 203 (la)sœrvel (n.) ‘brain’ 64, 149, 295, 333 sœrvi, sèrvi, sœrv, sèrv* (GL), sœr, sèr (tr. v.) ‘use’ 149, 202, 210, 219, 221, 236n5, 242, 245, 288, 290, 312, 321, 351, 390, 397, 398, 500, 505

sœrvi, sèrvi, sœrv, sèrv* (GL), sœr, sèr (tr. v.) ‘serve’ 245, 377, 435 se (3 sg. poss. det., pl. for thing possessed) ‘his, her, its’ (see so) se, sre* (ML) Preverbal conditional and past habitual marker 26, 62– 63, 261–62 se, sé (usually before te) (cop. v.) ‘is, are’ 63–64, 189, 290–93 se, sé (usually before te), s (before te), sa (rare), è (rare) (presentative v.) ‘it is; they are; there is, are’ 293–95 sè, sœ* (GL), se* (GL), sèr (n.) ‘sister’ 35, 86, 87, 116, 122, 147, 148, 170, 172, 184, 188 etc. se di* (NI) (aux. v.) ‘should’ 282 se paskè pou sa* (KS) (conj. phr.) ‘that’s why’ 223, 367 se pou (conj.) ‘the problem is, it’s a question of’ 309–10, se pou sa (conj.) ‘that’s why’ 174, 194, 277, 342, 366–67, 368, 403, 439, 440, 474, 501 sègon (ord. num./adj.) ‘second’ 205 sek (adj.) ‘dry’ 230, 397, seksyon* (NF) (n.) ‘section’ 408 (la)sel, (le)sel* (CB) (n.) ‘saddle’ 163 sel, le sèl, sœl (quant, det.) ‘the only’ 175, 196–97, 320, 501 (see also tou-sèl) sèlman, sèlmon, sœlman* (MP) (adv.) ‘only’ 354; pa… sèlman, pa… sèlmon, pa sœlman* (MP), sœlman pa* (MP) (adv.) ‘not even’ 274, 276, 329, 368, 403, 429, 464, 497, 499, 505

sèmenn, senmen, senmenn (see smenn) sen* (FV) (n.) ‘virgin’ 292 sen, senk (card, num.) ‘five’ 123, 171, 197, 263, 273, etc. (la)sén, (la)senn, (la)sen* (AS) (n.) ‘fishing net’ 199 senkant, senkont (card. num.) ‘fifty’ 171, 198, 431, 478, 495, 507; senkant-e-œnn* (MP), senkant-œnn* (MP) ‘fifty-one’ 507 senyen, sennyen, segnen* (AS) (intr. v.) ‘bleed’ 146, 151, 166, 260, 390 sep, sèpte (see èhèp) separe (tr. v.) ‘separate, partition’ 334; (adv.) ‘separately’ 408; (adj.) ‘separate’ 499 sere (tr. v.) ‘stock, preserve, save’ 349, 397, 161n5, 171 sere (tr. v.) ‘tighten, pull tight’ 275 seren (n.) ‘dew’ (see also la roze) 337 sèrpan, sœrpon* (NI), sèpan (n.) ‘snake’ 330, 332, 350, 390, 391; (sèrpan) sonèt (see sonèt) sèrvi, sèrv, sèr (see sœrvi) set (card. num.) ‘seven’ 197, 226, 273, 290, 390, 406, 506, 507 sèten, sèrten (indef. adj.) ‘certain’ 204–05, 253, 410 seye, eseye* (MP), esey* (MP, FE), sèy* (LD) (tr. v.) ‘try’ 66n51, 118, 223, 224, 324, 339, 353, 356, 367, 377, 383, 391, 467, 468, 503, 504

seyon* (FG), senyon* (AS) (n.) ‘furrow’ (see also ran and re) sèz (card. num.) ‘sixteen’ 197, 467 sezannen, sezonnè (see sizonnen) sezon, sizon* (LD) (n.) ‘season’ 231 (la)sezon (see [la]sizannmon) si (conj.) ‘if, when, whether’ 255, 261–62, 372 si (adv.) ‘so, so much’ 194, 202, 241, 253, 277, 289, 298, 354, 391, 395, 404, 505, 506, 507 (la)si (n.) ‘saw’ 163 Sidne* (KN) (prop. n.) ‘Sidney’ 188 siga (n.) ‘cigar’ 225, sigarèt (n.) ‘cigarette’ 283 (la)sikleri, (la)sukleri (n.) ‘sugar mill, sugar factory’ 162, 163, 182, 297, 308, 356, 359 sikro, chikro* (LD) (n.) ‘sucrose’ 280, 326 sila* (FL) (dem. pron.) ‘the one’ 79, 183, 217, 218 sip (n.) ‘cypress tree, cypress wood’ 144 sipoze, supoze (aux. v.) ‘be supposed to, supposedly’ 204, 280–81, 436, 437, 467, 501, 503 siprann* (GL), sirprann* (GL), sripran* (GL), sriprann* (GL) (adj.) ‘surprised’ 241, 242, 298, 395 sir, sur* (MP) (adj.) ‘sure’ 321, 368, 500

siro (n.) ‘sirup’ 169, 177, 196, 369 (see also la fiè siro) sis, siz (before a vowel), si* (FL) (card. num.) ‘six’ 86, 167, 197–98, 226, 296, 335, 357, 370, 376, 389, 411, 479, 496, 507; si(z) èskalen ‘seventy-five cents’ 86, 389 sitan, siton (quant. det./adv.) ‘so, so much, so many’ 156, 194, 242, 286, 290, 322, 324, 334, 354, 398 si tèlman* (KN, MP) (quant. det.) ‘so much’ 194, 354, 505, 506, 507 siyen

(tr. v.) ‘sign’ 409

(la)sizannmon* (GL), (la)sizònman* (NH), (la)sizonnen* (GL), (la)sezon* (AS) (n.) ‘seasoning, spices’ 397 sizla* (GS) (dem. pron.) ‘these, those’ 117, 218 sizle, sizœle* (AS) (see sizonnen) sizon (see sezon) sizonnen, sezannen* (ML), sezonnè* (FV), sizle, sizœle (tr. v./adj.) ‘season, add spices; seasoned, spicy’ 397 sizo (n.) ‘scissors, pair of scissors’ 171, 431 ska (see ichka) skrep (tr. v./adj.) ‘scrape (cotton); scraped’ 249, 327, 343 smat, smart (adj.) ‘smart’ 177, 412 smenn, smèn, sèmenn* (KS), senmen* (YC), senmenn* (YC) (n.) ‘week’; la smenn pase ‘last week’ 192, 232, 253, 340, 341, 438, 478, 495, 505 so, sa (fem.), se (pl.) (3 sg. poss. det.) ‘his, her, its’ 35, 186–87, 497

sodjè (see chodjœ) sœl (see sel) sœlman (see sèlman) sœr (see sè) sœrkule* (MP) (intr. v.) ‘circulate’ 258 sofa (n.) ‘sofa’ 504 sokèn, sokenn, sotchèn, sotchenn (3 sg. poss. det./poss. pron.) ‘his, his own; her, hers, her own; its, its own’ 187–88, 212–14, 222, 229, 296, 362, 430, 431, 465, 467, 471, 506–08 soko (n.) ‘muscadine grape’ 262 sole, soley (n.) ‘sun’ 197, 256, 262, 288, 314, 318, 337, 344 son (intr./refl. v.) (see santi [intr./refl. v.]) son (prep./conj.) (see san [prep./conj.]) son (card. num.) (see san [card. num.]) (sèrpan) sonèt, sonnet* (AS), sonne* (NI) (n.) ‘rattlesnake’ 391 sonm, sòm (see sanm) sonmdi (see sanmdi) sonyè, sonyen (tr. v.) ‘feed (animals)’ 151 sonyè, sonyen, swanyen* (YC) (tr. v.) ‘take care of’ 370, 438, 431 sor (intr. v./tr. v.) ‘be taken out, extracted; take out, extract’ 360, 369 (see also sòrti [intr. v.])

sorgo (n.) ‘sorghum’ 283 sòrti, soti, sòr (intr. v.) ‘go out, come out, leave’ 147, 149, 186, 224, 235n3, 245, 247n22, 253, 257, 262, 275, 287, 311, 312, 358, 360, 367, 369, 371, 407, 501; ‘come from’ 174, 207, 226, 245, 256, 308, 333, 347, 348, 351, 353, 356, 360, 395, 408, 409, 412, 429, 465, 467, 469, 472, 476, 498, 499, 506; sòrte* (MP) (imperfect) 498, 506 sòrti, soti, sòti, sòr (aux. v.) ‘just, have just (done something)’ 285, 322nl12 sosis (n.) ‘sausage’ 178, 236n5, 396 (la)sosyete (n.) ‘mutual aid society, benevolent society’ 162, 442, 459, 460 sotchèn, sotchenn (see sokèn) sote, sot* (GL) (tr./intr. v.) ‘jump’ 358, 371, 379, 380, 506 sòti tchouwe* (ND) (v. phr.) ‘be killed’ 227, 317 sou (n.) ‘cent’ 171, 285, 334, 431, 434, 435 sou (adj.) ‘drunk’ 150, 260 soufle (n.) ‘whistle’ 240, 241 soufle (intr. v.) ‘whistle’ 241 soufri, soufer* (JL) (intr. v.) ‘suffer’ 288, 331 soukouye (tr./intr. v.) ‘shake’ 171, 173, 258 soule (tr./intr. v.) ‘make drunk, get drunk’ 329, 389 souloun (n.) ‘bar’ 238, 241, 275, 341, 388, 389 soulye, souye (n.) ‘shoe’ 174, 431, 434

souvan, souvon (adv.) ‘Often’ [343] 428 spèrit, spérik (n.) ‘spirit, ghost’ 177, 382, 383, 435, 437 sre [preverbal marker] (see se [preverbal marker]) sriprann, sripran (see siprann) stil (adv.) ‘still’ 256, 343, 395, 410, 436, 440, 442, 467, 472, 501, 502 stov (n.) ‘stove’ 348, 365 sue (see swe) suk (see disik) (la)sukleri (see [la]sikleri) suporte* (ID) (tr. v.) ‘support’ 331 supoze (see sipoze) sur (see sir) swa, swar*, swò* (CB) (n./adv.) ‘evening’ 118, 175, 227n62, 274, 291, 293, 309, 324, 337, 341, 342, 343, 346, 356, 379, 389, 476; le swa (adv.) ‘in the evening’ 175, 227n62, 274, 291, 324, 337, 341, 342, 356, 389 (see also aswa, yèr-o-swa) swanyen (see sonyen) swa … o, swa… swa (conj.) ‘either … or’ 279, 367, 500, 505 swasant (card. num.) ‘sixty’ 198, 464, 500 swasant-dis (card. num.) ‘seventy’ 198 swasant-kenz (card. num.) ‘seventy-five’ 198

swate, swat; swatre (conditional form) (aux. v.) ‘wish, hope; want’ 119, 260, 289, 321, 498, 502 swe, sue (intr. v.) ‘sweat’ 147 swip* (AS) (n.) ‘sweep’ 204, 350 swivi* (NH), swiv (tr. v.) ‘follow; keep up with’ 245 T t (2 sg. pron.) (see to [2 sg. subj. pron.]) t Preverbal marker (see te) ta (n.) ‘pile’ 173, 288, 371 ta (n.) ‘aunt’ (see tant) ta (adv.) ‘late’ 297, 314, 322, 325, 337 ta (2 sg. poss. det., fem.) (see to [poss. det.]) (la)tab (n.) ‘table’ 138nl, 144, 201, 228, 229, 238, 254, 360, 364, 365 taba (n.) ‘tobacco’ 276, 347 taks* (ME) (n.) ‘taxes’ 477, 478 talè, titalè, ttalè* (AS) (adv.) ‘in a moment, in a little while; a moment ago’ 343, 391 tan, ton (n.) ‘weather’ 231 tan, ton (n.) ‘time’ 84, 119, 123, 144, 172, 178, 182, 184, etc. (see also tanzantan, dan l tan, lantan, mem ton) tan* (FL) (n.) ‘tarp (?)’ 361

tan, ton (quant. det.) ‘so much, a certain amount’ 42, 194–95, 204, 280 tan (conj.) (see kan) tan, tan ki (conj.) ‘as long as’ 308, 356, 370, 372, 438 tan* (FD) (tr. v.) ‘lay, spread’ 291 tanbe, tanmbe, tonbe, tonmbe, tanm*, tonb (intr. v.) ‘fall’ 244, 256, 321, 336, 350, 367, 375, 380, 388–89, 404, 442; tanm malad ‘get sick’ 442 tanbou, tanmbou, tanmbour* (FG), tonmbou* (KS) (n.) ‘drum’ 132, 172, 294, 365, 382–84, 386 tande, tannde, tannd, tann, tonn, tan (tr. v.)‘heart’ 240–41, 245, 255, 309, 311, 358, 378, 379, 390, 404, 415, 475, 499 (la)tanm, (la)tonm (n.) ‘tomb’ 325 tann, tonn (n.) ‘ton’ 173, 194, 471, 472 tann* (NH) (tr. v.) ‘hang’ 346 tann, tonn, tan* (FV), atan* (ID) (v.) ‘wait’ 353, 369, 396, (see also èspere) tanpri* (NH) (interj.) ‘please, I beg you’ 207, 314 tansyon (n.) ‘attention’ (attested only in the expression fe tansyon ‘watch out, pay attention’) 321, 361 tant, tont, tan* (DG), ta* (AS) (n.) ‘aunt’ 170, 329, 389, 390, 464 tanzantan* (NH), tonzonton (adv.) ‘now and then, from time to time’ 343, 403, 501 tap (n.) ‘lid’ 196, 244

tas (n.)‘cup’ 171, 208, 277, 326, 355, 363, 389 taye, tay* (NI) (tr. v.) ‘whip, spank’ 243, 262, 322, 325, 326, 383, 432 (la)tæ, (la)tær (see [la]tè]) Tærnan, Tælan (see Tèrnan) (la)tche, (la)tcheu, (la)tchye (see [la]ke) la tche chat (n.) ‘shingles’ 290 tchek, chek* (NF) (n.) ‘cheque’ 312, 327, 472 tchenn (see kèn) tchi (n.) ‘buttocks, ass’ 207 tchobo, tchonmbo* (AS), tchòmbo* (ML), tchobe* (FN), tchonbe* (FN), tchambo* (FV), tchanmbo* (FV), tchòb, tchanm* (NH), tchòm* (ML), tchyen (tr. v.) ‘hold’ 247, 330, 358, 359, 390, 391, 396, 407, 428, 501, 504, 505 tchòkòt (n.) ‘hair bun’ 145 tchororo (n.) ‘weak coffee’ 146 tchoun (tr. v./adj.) ‘tune; tuned, in tune’ 379, 380 tchouwe, tchwe, tchoue* (KS), tue* (MP) (tr. v.) ‘kill’ 30, 31, 40, 87, 147, 150, 192, 211, 222, 224, 226, 227, 279n65, 317, 354, 384, 404, 507, 508; ‘slaughter (an animal)’ 171, 199, 353, 376; tchwe li-menm ‘get oneself killed; kill oneself, commit suicide’ 304, 404, 443, 508 tchròk (see tròk) te, t Preverbal marker of anteriority, preverbal irrealis marker; cop. v. 26, 62–63, 119, 226, 235, 237–28, 253–55, 258, 262–62, 290–92, 294, 296, 297, 308, 309

(la)té, (la)tér, (la)tce, (la)tær (n.) ‘land, dirt, soil’ 149, 165, 173, 189, 211, 223, 226, etc. tèl-tèl, tèl-e-tèl (indef. adj./pron.) ‘such and such; so-and-so’ 205, 225 telefòn (n.) ‘telephone’ 371, 403, 404 tèlman, tèlmon* (LD) (adv.) ‘so much, so many’ 194, 354, 411, 505– 07 tenk (n.) ‘tank’ 199 tenyen* (KS) (tr. v.) ‘extinguish’ 382 tere, antere, antær* (JL) (tr. v.) ‘bury’ 178, 186, 203, 208, 220, 382, 413, 442 tèritwa* (LD) (n.) ‘territory, property’ 365 Tènan* (KN), Tærnan* (AS), Tælan* (AS) (prop, η.) ‘Ternant’ 309 (la)tèt (n.) ‘head’ 64, 88n82, 148, 154, 155, 162, 163, 201, 240, 283, 295, 333, 365, 383, 397; gen bon (la)tet ‘have a good head, be smart’ 201; la tèt fromaj ‘hog’s head cheese’ (also fromaj) tete (tr. v.) ‘nurse, breast-feed’; dòn tete ‘nurse, breast-feed a baby’ 288, 431, 449 teton (n.) ‘breast’ 288 ti (refl. pron.) (see ki [refl. pron.]) ti, tit* (fem, form) (adj.) ‘little’ 199, 378–79 (see also piti); (adv.) ‘tiny, very little’ 354, 200, 308 ti-, tit-* (fem, form) (adj.) used in compounds to designate the young of a species: ti-kana ‘duckling’; ti-vo ‘calf’ 199 ti-boug (n.) ‘little boy’ 210, 242, 275, 379, 380

ti-dwa (n.) ‘little finger’ 199 ti-fiy, tit-fiy (n.) ‘young girl; daughter’ 117, 124, 199, 217, 427 (see also fiy); ‘virgin’* (NH) 327 ti-frè (n.) ‘little brother, younger brother’ 199, 253 ti-garson (n.) ‘little boy; son’ 124, 223, 427 ti-kana* (GL) (n.) ‘duckling’ 199 ti-kiyè (n.) ‘teaspoon’ 199 ti-non (n.) ‘nickname’ 199 ti-pwa (see [de]pwa) tire, tir* (ML) (tr. v.) ‘shoot’ 29, 30, 34, 40, 325, 384 tire (tr. v.) ‘milk (a cow)’ 249n30 (see also trè) tirwa (n.) ‘drawer’ 173 titalè (see talè) ti-venson (n.) ‘midget’ 343 ti-vo (n.) ‘calf’ 199 tivi (n.) ‘television’ 241, 342, 358 tiyo (n.) ‘pipe’ 346 (la)tizann, (la)tizòn (n.) ‘herbal tea’ 205, 253 to, t (2 sg. subj. pron., informal) ‘you’ 29–35, 37, 40, 43–44, 46, 119, 206, 210 to, twa (2 sg. obj. pron. informal) ‘you’ 28, 30, 33–35, 206–07

to, ta (rare fem, form), te (rare pl. form) (2 sg. poss. det., informal) ‘your’ 31, 33, 41, 43, 44n18, 186n39, 187, 505 to-mèm, to-menm (2 sg. refl/emph. pron.) ‘you, yourself 212, 222, 304, 362, 436 tòf (n.) ‘tough, difficult’ 429, 433 tokèn, tokenn, totchèn, totchenn (2 sg. poss. det./poss. pron., informal) ‘your, your own; yours’ 85, 116, 187–88, 212–13, 412, 413, 498 tomat (n.) ‘tomato’ 195, 196, 202, 238, 298, 396 ton (n.) (see tan [n.]) ton (quant. det.) (see tan [quant. det.]) tonbe, tonb (see tanbe) (la)tonm (see [la]tanm) tonn (n.) (see tann [n.]) tonn (tr. v.) (see tande [tr. v.]) tont (see tant) tonzonton (see tanzantan) torantour* (GL), torontou* (GL), tou-lantour* (AS), tourtour* (JL) (adv.) ‘all around’ 359, 345, 372, 395 tòrchon, (le)fey tòrchon* (ML) (n.) ‘dishrag gourd; vine with bright yellow flowers that produces a large, green fruit whose net-like interior is used as a sponge’ 290 tòrd, tòr* (RD) (tr. v.) ‘twist, wring’ 379, 380 toro (n.) ‘bull’ 170

tòti, tòrti, tòrtu* (EC) (n.) ‘turtle’ 332, 397; (tòti) kawenn* (GL) ‘snapping turtle’ 147, 397; tòti piyant ‘stink turtle’ 332 tou, tout* (EN) (fem, form) (quant. det.) ‘all, every’ 192; (adv.) ‘all, completely’ 43, 230, 254, 279, 316, 352, 354, 364, 369, 391, 503, 507 tou (indef. pron.) ‘all, everything, everyone’ 222 touche, touch* (JN) (tr./intr. v.) ‘touch’ 243, 295, 313, 352, 368, 430 tou-d-en-kou* (NI) (adv.) ‘all of a sudden’ 350, 356 toufe (tr./intr. v.) ‘choke, smother; smother (a dish in sauce); stuff (?)’ 145, 205, 226, 239, 236n5 toujou (adv.) ‘always’ 35, 40, 343 tou kalite, tou kalte, tout kalite* (EN) (indef. adj.) ‘all kinds (of)’ 203– 04, 208, 237, 397, 412, 413, 443, 444 tou-kè-chò, tou-kèk-chò, tou-kèk-chòz, tou-ki-chò, tou-ki-chòj, tou-kichòz (indef. pron.) ‘everything’ 192, 222 tou-lantour (see torantour) tou-le-de (indef. pron.) ‘both, both of them’ 192, 222–23, 349, 363, 471 tou-lòt-ki-chò* (ME), tou-lòt-ki-chòj* (KS) (indef. pron.) ‘everything else’ 192, 222, 477, 478 tou-l-tan, tou-tan (adv.) ‘always, all the time’ 192, 227, 362, 297, 343, 411, 505, 506, 508 tou-moun, tou-mounn, tou-l-moun* (KS), tou-l-mòn* (MP), tou-lmonn* (RD) (indef. pron.) ‘everyone’ 192, 223

tou-pa* (ME) (adv.) ‘everywhere, all over’ 472 tou-partou, tou-patou (adv.) ‘everywhere’ 308, 309, 348, 351, 412 toupe (n.) ‘nerve’ 310n95; gen toupe, gen plen toupe ‘have a lot of nerve’ 310n95 toumaye (intr. v.) ‘walk around, turn around’ 283 tournen, tournè, tounen, tourn, toun (intr. v.) ‘turn, twist; turn around, return, go back; become, change to; turn, turn over’ 31, 86, 152, 173, 192, 215, 223, 226, 230, 231, 243, 245, 284, 288, 304, 314, 317, 325, 327, 344, 347, 349, 367, 369, 391, 395, 437, ; tournen bæk ‘return, go back, come back’ 208, 241; tournen la lanng* (ID) ‘speak well, eloquently’ 208, 255, 328 tourtour (see torantour) tou-sel, tou-sèl, tou-sœl (adv.) ‘alone, by oneself 192, 237, 350, 370– 72, 403, 407–09, 438, 471, 501 touswit (adv.) ‘right away’ 343 traka (n.) ‘trouble, worry’ 194, 217, 223, 328, 331, 409, 410, 411, 429, 430, 438, 470 trakase*, trakas (tr. v./intr. v./adj.) ‘worry, be worried’ 206, 335, 438 trankil, trankin* (OL) (adj.) ‘quiet’ 261, 299, 311; rès trankil! ‘Be quiet!’ 299; kite trankil ‘leave alone’ 261, 311 tranmpe* (ID), tronpe* (ID) (tr. v.) ‘trick’ 253, 367 trant, tront (card. num.) ‘thirty’ 198, 357, 389, 402, 497, 500 (la)trap* (ID) (n.) ‘trap’ 29, 30, 31, 33, 41 trape, trap (tr. v.) ‘take, grab; catch; understand’ 118, 157, 167, 171, 173, 178, 195, 199, 207, 209, 224, 229, 230, 274, 276, 279, 355,

358, 365, 379, 380, 382, 389, 396–98, 405, 427 travay (n.) ‘work’ 241, 331 travayan, travayon (n.) ‘worker, hard worker’ 442, 443 travaye*, travay (intr./tr. v.) ‘work’ 164, 175, 194, 197, 207, 226–31, 239, 242, 249, 256, 257, 263, 283, 324, 327, 332, 336, 337, 343, 349, 353, 357, 371, 376, 389, 395, 407, 411, 427, 430, 432–34, 442, 443, 477, 499–502, 509; travay pou la motchye* (JL), travay an la motche* (KS), travay de motche* (AS), travay pou le kar* (JL), travay a kar, travay an kar* (ML) ‘work as a sharecropper farmer paying half or a quarter of the harvest in rent’ 433, 499 travè (see a travè) travèrsen, trævèrsen* (SD) (n.) ‘bolster’ 366 træk (n.) ‘railroad track’ 346 trœkta, trœktce, trèkta (n.) ‘tractor’ 196 tre* (FH) (adv.) ‘ver/ 351 trè, trèr* (JL) (tr. v.) ‘milk (a cow)’ 164, 249, 444 (see also tire) tren (n.) ‘noise’ 195, 199 tren* (LD) (n.) ‘railroad track (?)’ 366 frènen, trennen, trèn* (intr./tr. v.) ‘drag along, slide’ 366 trete, trèt (tr. v.) ‘treat’ 359, 430 trete, trèt (tr. v.) ‘treat, heal’ 285, 370 tretè (n.) ‘healer’ 280, 390 trèz (card, num.) ‘thirteen’ 149, 197, 471

(le)trip (n.) ‘intestines’ 165, 187, 236n5 tris (adj.) ‘sad’ 253, 323, 503 trit* (FN) (tr. v.) ‘treat, buy a treat for a girl at a dance’ 403 tro (quant. det.) ‘too, too much, too many’ 189, 195, 201, 202, 224, 230, etc. tròk, tchròk* (NF) (n.) ‘truck’ 132, 204, 361 tronpe (see tranmpe) tront (see trant) trou (n.) ‘hole’ 173, 262, 280, 309, 388, 391, trouve, trouv (tr. v.) ‘find’ 34, 87, 88, 210, 223, 226, 228, 232, 242, 243, 262, 275, 279n65, 283, 285, 310, 317, 321, 367, 368, 382, 388, 389, 404, 434, 436, 502–04 trouve (rare) (aux. v.) used to form sentences with passive meaning: li trouve tchwe ‘He was killed.’ 87–88, 226, 279n65, 317, 404 trouve en bebe (v. phr.) ‘have a baby’ 262 trwa, trwaz (before vowel) (card. num.) ‘three’ 118, 121, 123, 171, 193, 194, 196, 197–98, etc. trwazyèm (ord. num.) ‘third’ 205 ttalè (see talè) twa (pron.) (see to) la twal zaryen, la twal laryen* (LD), (le)twal* (FV) (n.) ‘(spider) web’ 165 U

u (tr. v., past) ‘had’ 118, 279, 500, 501, 507, 508 (see also gen [tr. v.] and ave [tr. v.]) u pou* (MP) (aux. v., past) ‘had to’ 279 (see also gen [aux. v.]) uch (see djich) uchka, uzska (see iska) uit, yuit, wit, yui* (LD) (card. num.) ‘eight’ 147, 148, 197–98, 366 uze* (FN) (adj.) ‘worn (out)’ 350, 360 V v (2 sg. pron., polite) (see vou [2 sg. pron., polite]) va Preverbal future marker 26, 186, 257, 260, 409, 410, 413 va, v* (LD) (intr. v.) ‘go’ 34, 45, 123, 165, 175, 177, 183, 233, 260, etc. (la)vach (n.) ‘cow’ 32, 40, 163, 164, 166, 170, 177, 256, 406, 444 vakans, vakons (n.) ‘vacation’; an vakons ‘on vacation’ 505 vale (tr. v.) ‘swallow’ 226 valse (intr. v.) ‘waltz’ 145, 402 van jou (see avon jou) vann, van, vòn, vonn, von, vonnd* (ID) (tr./intr. v.) ‘sell’ 153, 196, 211, 238, 241, 242, 246, 320, 334, 362, 371, 390, 403, 404, 408, 409, 415, 469, 471, 472, 473, 501, ; vandi* (LD) (past participle) ‘sold’ 317 vanse, vonse, vans, vons (tr. v.) ‘advance, approach’ 314, 368, 390

vant, vannt* (FV), vont (n.) ‘belly, stomach’ 380, 262; gen en gro vannt* (FV) ‘be pregnant’ 262 vayan, vanyan, vonyon (adj.) ‘pretty, nice’ 202, 352, 364 ve, veu, vœ* (JL) (tr./aux. v.) ‘want’ 43, 118, 202, 260, 275–76, 323– 24, 329, 334, 335, 376, 378, 379, 382, 428, 437, 443, 463, 499, 503, 506 (see also voudre, voule, ole) vè, vèr* (LD) (adj.) ‘green; unripe’ 206 ven, vent (before a vowel or voiceless consonant) (card. num.) ‘twenty’ 171, 173, 175, 198, 263, 279n65, 290, 357, 384, 388, 390, 402, 501, 507; vent-i-en ‘twentyone’ 198, 388; venn-de, venn-deu ‘twenty-two’ 198 venson (see ti-venson) Ventrès, Vèntrès (prop, n.) ‘Ventress’ (town in Pointe Coupee Parish) 428 vèrgla* (n.) ‘ice’ 118 la verite (n.) ‘truth’ 504 (la)vesel, (la)veseyl* (JL) (n.) ‘dishes’ 163, 164, 213, 340 veu (see ve) veye, veyi* (GL), vey* (AS) (tr. v.) ‘wake (a corpse)’ 186, 413, 432 (la)vi (n.) ‘life’ 162, 163, 186, 218, 276, 291, 349, 378, 380, 407, 429, 436, 444, 471 vide (tr. v.) ‘pour, empty’ 210, 298 vielon (see vyelon)

la Vil, la Viyl* (GL), la Vil Orleyon* (NF) (prop, n.) ‘New Orleans’ 207, 220, 233, 259, 314, 331, 339, 397, 406, 465, 466, 468, 472, 473, 475 (la)vilaj (n.) ‘village’ 188, 308, 406 vilen (adj.) ‘ugly’ 202 vineg (n.) ‘vinegar’ 196, 313, 396 vini, vyen, vin* (LD) (intr. v.) ‘come, arrive’ 27, 86, 235n3, 245, 311– 12; vini bæk ‘come back’ 132, 285, 344, 366, 379, 501; … ki vyen (see ki [rel. pron.]) vini, vyen (aux. v.) ‘become, get’ 195, 197, 200, 208, 246, 255, 256, 259, 280, 287, 288, 298, 320, 327, 340, 382–84, 407, 411, 438, 439, 463, 478, 479, 495, 496; vini byen* (KS) ‘get well, recover’ 298; vini mye (see variants of mye) ‘get better, recover’ 298; vini plu mal* (FV) ‘get worse’ 298; vini vye ‘get old’ 200, 246, 256, 280, 298, 478, 479, 495, 496; vyen pare* (LD) ‘get ready’ 298 vini (intr. v.) ‘grow up’ 123, 188, 228, 376, 408, 430 violon (see vyelon) vire (intr. v.) ‘turn, turn around’ 476 vit (adv.) ‘fast, quickly’ 320, 339, 341, 350, 404, 503 vito* (NF) (tr. v.) ‘veto’ 409 viv (intr. v.) ‘live’ 172, 174, 200, 206, 223, 235n3, 249, 259, 276, 278, 338, 341, 343, 367, 370, 376, 377, 383, 437, 507 vivan, vivon (adj.) ‘alive, living’ 276, 390 viyelon (see vyelon) vizite, vizit (tr./intr. v.) ‘visit, socialize’ 231, 274, 395, 428, 472, 473

vlope (tr. v.) ‘wrap’ 320 vo, ti-vo (n.) ‘calf 199, 310, 389, vo (intr. v.) ‘be worth’ 249, 391 vo, vou, vouzòt, zo* (NF) (2 pl. poss. det.) ‘your’ 186 vœ (see ve) vokenn, voken* (FC), votchèri* (FV), voutchenn, voutchèn, voutchen* (LD) (2 sg. poss. det./poss. pron., formal) 187–88, 212–13 vole (tr. v.) ‘steal’ 186, 207, 263, 283, 315, 478 vo-mye, vo-myeu (aux. v.) ‘prefer, like better’ 249, 277 vòn, von, vonn, vonnd (see vann) vonse, vons (see vanse) vont (see vant) vonyon (see vayan) vote, vòt (intr. v.) ‘vote’ 188, 195, 389, 409–11 vou, vo, v, ou (2 sg. pron., polite) ‘you’ 186, 206–10, 463, 479–80, 496–97 voudre (rare) (tr. v./aux. v.) ‘would like, wish’ 276–77, 398, 463 (see also ve, voule, ole) voule (tr. v./aux. v.) ‘wanted’ 34, 118–19, 138, 276–77, 498, 503, 504 (see also ve, voudre) voutchenn, voutchèn, voutchen (see vokenn)

vouzòt, vouzo* (NF), ouzò, ouzòt, zo, zòt (2 pl. pron.) ‘you’ 150, 155, 156, 186, 188, 206–08, 212–14, 253, etc. vouzòt, ouzò* (NF), zo* (NF), zotchenn* (NF), ouzokenn* (NF) (2 pl. poss. det.) ‘your, your own’ 26, 186–88, 191, 403, 406, 407, 413 voye, vòy, vwa* (LD), vway, vwòy* (LD) (tr. v.) ‘send; throw’ 211, 243, 288, 327, 344, 347, 356n125, 363, 405, 406, 427, 472, 477 vre (adj.) ‘true’ 276, 294, 325, 364, 390, 410, 411, 431, 441, 442, 505, 506 vu* (RD) (tr. v., past part.) ‘saw, (have) seen’ (see wa) vwa (see wa) vwazen (n.) ‘neighbor’ 174, 292, 376, 428, 430, 464, 497, 499, 502, 508 vwazinaj* (EC) (n.) ‘neighborhood’ 117 (la)vyan, (la)vyann, (la)vyòn, (la)vyonn (n.) ‘meat’; la vyòn bef’beef; la vyòn kochon ‘pork’; la vyòn sale ‘salted meat’ vye, vyeu, vyey (adj.) ‘old’ 200; vye fiy ‘old maid’; vye jou ‘old age’ 186, 240 vyelon, vielon, viyelon* (CB), violon* (RD), vyolon* (AS) (n.) ‘violin’ 379, 402, 475, 476 vyen (see vini) W wa, war* (EC, RD), wen* (NE) (before en), vwa (tr./intr. v.) ‘see; understand’ 248; fe wa ‘explain’ 287; waye* (MP) (imperfect) ‘saw’ 499; vu* (RD) (past part.) ‘saw, (have) seen’ 42, 379, 380

waf, wòf(n.) ‘pier’ 204 wagon (n.) ‘wagon’ 123, 217, 218, 244, 254, 284, 312, 338, 408, 434 wawaron, wwaron* (FV) (n.) ‘frog, bullfrog’ 147 way* (BL) (interj.) ‘wow!’ 285 waye* (MP) (tr. v., imperfect) ‘saw’ (see wa) wè, wi (adv.) ‘yes’ 86, 147, 215, 310, 372, etc. wiski (n.) ‘whiskey’ 177n30, 186, 188, 196, 207, etc. wit (see uit) wòf (see waf) Y y ena (for variants, see ena) (exist, v.) ‘there is, are’ 307–08 la yad (n./quant. adv.) ‘yard; per yard’ (unit of measure) 431 ye, γ (3 pl. pron.) ‘they; their’ 206, 208, 210, 211, 213, 214 ye, y (3 pl. poss. det.) 186, 191 (see also lœr) -ye, -yen (rare) (postnominal pl. def. det.) ‘the, these, those’ 33n19, 26, 65–66, 84, 116n36, 154–57, 163, 172, 174, 179, 187, 381; with family names: 280, 476 ye, è (cop. v.) ‘is, are’ 63, 64, 119, 211, 227, 261, 262, 283, 294, 295–96, 297, 301, 331, 333, 334, 349, 352, 377, 410, 411, 435, 466, 479, 496, 501 yè, yæ, yèr (adv.) ‘yesterday’ 228, 240, 241, 336, 343, 430 (see also avan-yè and yèro-swa)

ye gen (exit, v.) (see gen [exist, v.]) yekèn, yekenn, yetchèn, yetchenn (3 pl. poss. det./poss. pron.) ‘their, their own; theirs’ 117, 187–88, 212, 216, 228, 259, 345, 383, 411n5, 430, 473 (see also latchèn, lœrtchèn) ye-mèm, ye-menm (3 pl. refl./emph. pron.) ‘they, themselves’ 132, 304, 382–84, 403, 475, 476, 499, 503 yenk (adv.) ‘just, only’ 151, 277, 322, 326, 354–55 Yenki (n.) ‘Yankee’ 132, 178, 207, 290, 382 yèr-o-swa (adv.) ‘last night’ 335, 344, 505 yich, yuch (see djich) yiskek (see iskek) yuit, yui (see uit) Z za (see deja) zadiko (see zariko) zafæ, zafæ* (RD), zafè, zafèr* (JL), lafè (n.) 132, 161, 174, 182, 183, 188 etc. ‘thing’ (see also kek-zafè) zalimet, zarimet* (JL) (n.) ‘match’ 196, 434 zalimo, zanimo (n.) ‘animals, livestock’ 320, 353, 409 zanfan (n.) (rare) ‘child’ 117, 161, 188, 379 zanmi, zami, zonmi* (LD) (n.) ‘friend’ 220, 286, 293, 384, 407, 465, 466

zannen (see lannen) zanyan, zanyon (see zonyon) zaret (n.) ‘fin’ 161, 175 zariko, zadiko, zaydiko, ariko (rare) (n.) ‘bean’ 321, 443 zarimet (see zalimet) zaryen (see laryen) zæb, zèb (n.) (see læb) zef (see dezèf) zel* (ID), (le)zèyl* (GL) (n.) ‘wing’ 165–66 zekal, zekay (n.) (see lekay) zekla, lekla* (OL), nekla* (ML) (n.) ‘kindling’ 116 zeklè, zeklæe* (FV) (n.) ‘lightning’ 161 zepran, zepron (n.) ‘spur on a boot; spur on a rooster’ 154, 161 zirandèl* (ML), zirondèl* (LD) (n.) ‘purple martin’ 64, 199, 290 zis (see djich) zo (2 pl. pron.) (see vouzòt [2 pl. pron.]) zo (2 pl. poss. det.) (see vo [2 pl. poss. det.]) zo-mèm, zo-menm (2 pl. refl./emph. pron.) ‘you, yourselves’ 304 zonmi (see zanmi) zonng (n.) ‘fingernail, toenail’ 146, 161, 280

zonyon, zanyan* (ML), zanyon* (FV) (n.) ‘onion(s)’ 196, 238, 244, 314, 367, 396, 471 zoranj, joranj, joranz* (FV) (n.) ‘orange’ 145, 161, 256, 361 zorey (n.) ‘ear’ 161, 378–80 zotchenn (see vouzòt) zotey (n.) ‘toe’ 161 (de)zwa (n.) ‘goose, geese’ 171, 177, 294, 376, 444 zwazo, lwazo* (LD) (n.) ‘bird’ 64, 161, 171, 199, 226, 231, 290 zye, zyeu (n.) ‘eye, eyes’ 171, 186, 187, 205, 206, 217, 218, 240, 308, 344, 353, 359; zye kròch ‘cross-eyed’ 187

Index Abbeville, xxixn6 Acadia Parish, xxixn8 Acadian Coast, xxv–xxvi, xxxiii, 19, 100, 101n11, 133 Acadian French, 73, 113 Acadiana, xxixn8, xxxi, 93n1 Acadians: language of, xxix, 73, 113, 133 in Pointe Coupee Parish, xxxiii, 100–02, 110, 113, 133 exile of, 18–19, 100 settlement in Louisiana, 18–19, 71, 79, 100–02, 113, 133 migration within Louisiana, 100. See also Cajuns Acrolect, xxxin11, 69, 77 Act for the Organization of Orleans Territory and the Louisiana District, 67n54 Action verbs, 235, 269, 299. See also Verbs, non-stative Adjectival complements, 63–64, 281, 289, 291 Adjectival phrases, 264 Adjectival predicates, 64, 66, 252, 256, 259, 263, 266, 269, 288–89 Adjectives: possessive, 26, 44n18, 116, 232, 301

in general, 64, 198–206, 277, 295, 302, 318, 348 in comparatives, 87 gender marking on, 116, 138, 198, 200–01, 378, 463 prenominal, 154, 159–60, 162n7, 163, 165n10, 166, 186, 192, 198– 205 descriptive, 198–203 predicate, 66, 198, 200, 252, 256, 259, 263, 265–66, 269, 271, 281, 288–89, 291, 316 indefinite, 203–05 postnominal, 205–06 highlighting of, 64, 66, 295, 310 interrogative, 330, 332–33 reduplication of, 351 Adverbial complements, 289, 291 Adverbial expressions, 272n58 Adverbial predicates, 288 Adverbs: interrogative, 62n44, 63, 295, 302, 330, 333–35 French, 65 in comparatives, 87, 318–20 and division of lexical units, 156 of time, 175, 250n34, 251n36, 335–44

of place, 178–79, 328, 344–48 of degree or quantity, 200, 250, 277, 313, 319–20, 350–55 negative, 256–57, 273, 275, 289, 320 predicate, 266, 288–89, 291 list of, 335–55 of manner, 348–50 reduplication of, 351 Africa: as source of slaves, 6–7, 6n3, 17, 20, 24, 50, 52, 55, 67, 67n54, 73, 75, 97, 103, 420–21 as source for an early pidgin or creole, 46–48, 50–53, 91 mentioned, 355, 368, 387 Africa, Central, 21, 97–98 African Americans, 15–16, 92, 108, 115n34, 120–21, 130, 138–39, 375. See also Blacks African ethnic groups: Calabar, 21, 97 Canga, 97 Chamba, 21, 97 Coneda, 28, 31 Congo, 21, 97 Devon, 31 Fon, 21, 97

Ibo, 21, 97 Malinke, 57 Manding, 21, 97 Mina, 21, 59, 97, 103n151 Nard, 21 Pulaar, 21, 97 Wolof, 21, 97 Yoruba, 21, 97 Africanization, 20, 24, 60–61, 69, 97 African languages, 51, 54–60, 62n44, 63–68, 70, 89n83, 92, 99, 103n15. See also Louisiana Creole, African influence on; names of individual languages Africans: contact with other groups, xxv, 7–9, 11, 23, 37, 54–56, 59 language of, xxv, 42, 48, 51–56, 59–67, 67n53, 68n55, 70, 73, 91, 92, 99, 103n15, 111–12, 114 arrival in Louisiana, 6–7, 9, 17, 20–21, 76, 208n49 origins of, 6–7, 21, 21n23, 51, 54, 57, 97–98 numerical importance of, 10–11, 53, 56, 57n35, 73–75, 92, 97 during Spanish period, 20–21, 21n23, 69, 73–74 ethnicity of, 21, 28, 31, 54, 56–60, 97–98 in the Attakapas district, 75–76

in the Mississippi Valley, 77, 92 in Pointe Coupee Parish, 95, 97 mentioned, 16, 20, 29, 34, 40. See also African ethnic groups Agglutination, 111, 117n37, 154–55, 158, 159–170, 175n28, 426 Agriculture: role of Indians in, 4 role of German settlers in, 5 role of slaves in, 9 for subsistence, 9–10, 54 in Pointe Coupee Parish, 94–95, 119–20 sharecropper farming, 112, 119–20, 125 mentioned, 123. See also Farm, small; Habitation; Plantation Aguillard, Claude, xvii Allemands, Bayou Des, 5n1 Allemands, Côte des, 5. See also German Coast Allemands, Lac Des, 5n1 Alleyne, Mervyn, 64, 65n49 Alsace-Lorraine, 107 Americanization, xxv, 19, 99, 105–10, 133 American period, xvi, 74–75, 82n70, 105 Americans, 18n18, 19, 81, 103, 107, 107n22, 108, 114, 372, 480

Ancelet, Barry Jean, 30n10, xxxiin16, 88, 89n3 Anglicization, 19–20 Anglophones, 19, 95, 99, 108n24. See also English language Anglos (Anglo-Americans, Anglo-Saxons), 19, 101n10, 101n12, 107 Angola, 6, 97 Ante-bellum plantations, 120 Anthony, Arthé, 16n14 Antillean creoles, 66, 216, 300, 364. See also Lesser Antillean creoles Antilles, 22, 50, 180, 185, 189, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 216 table 17, 248 Antoine, Jacemin (slave), 6 Approximate French. See French language, approximate varieties of Arceneaux, 19 Arends, Jacques, 47, 62n42 Arguin Island, 6 Arkansas, 100 Ascension Parish, 30n8 Aspect: habitual, xxxiiin19, 88, 117–18, 235–37, 239, 243, 252–53, 261–67, 269, 272, 282, 321, 463 preverbal markers of, 26, 45, 50, 62–63, 83n72, 119, 158, 234–36, 251–52, 255–59, 264–73, 277, 302–03, 324, 327, 395, 463

progressive, 26, 50, 62, 83–72, 236, 255–59, 264–73, 324, 395, 463 system of, 62–63, 263–68 expression of, 62, 252, 270, 272 inchoative, 264–66, 269 iterative, 266–67 imperfective, 63, 251, 260, 266–68, 275–76 perfect, 264, 267, 270, 272 prospective, 235n2, 257n42, 264–67 definite, 265, 268, 270, 272 indefinite, 265, 269, 271 completive, 268–69, 272, 303n83 Association Guyanaise Pédagogique des Écoles Maternelles, 302 Assumption Parish, 25n1 Atchafalaya River and Basin, xxvi, 70, 75–76, 93–94 Attakapas district and post, 23, 24 table 2, 71–73, 75–76, 79, 100 Aurore, 6n3 Austerlitz Plantation, xvi, 113 Auxiliary verbs. See Verbs, auxiliary Avoyelles Parish, xxix, 109, 129, 504n21 Baggioni, Daniel, 110n27

Baissac, M. C., 269n56, 303 Baker, Philip, xv, 56n33, 60n37, 60n39, 69n56, 160n2, 168n18, 169n19, 219, 250, 270–71, 273n60, 298n78, 303, 316 Balize, 12n4, 14 Ballard, Blanche, xvii Ballard, Cade, xvii Bambara: ethnic group, 21, 29, 34–35, 57–59, 91, 97 language, 63 Bantu languages, 168n18 Baptiste, Eugene, xvii Baptists and the Baptist Church, 86, 204, 215, 274, 366, 418, 426, 436, 439, 454–55, 457–58, 485 Barbaud, Philippe, 13n9, 68n55 Barron, Bill, 97 Bartoli’s stratigraphic model, 51–52 Basilect, xxxin11, xxxiii, 41, 65, 91–92, 102, 133, 139, 161n4, 224, 234–35, 276n64, 357n126, 498 Basilectal features and speakers, xxxiii, 41, 65, 102, 139, 143, 177, 186, 198, 223n60, 224, 234–35, 246n18, 255, 276n64, 357n126, 379, 381, 426, 463, 498 Baton Rouge, xvi, xxvi, 18–19, 93, 95, 485, 488, 491–92, 494–95, 498, 517 Battley, Ernest, xvii

Battley, Mable, xvii Battley, Mozart, xvii Bayou Cirier, 140 table 10 Bayou Teche, xxv, xxvin2, xxxiii, 18–19, 70–71, 73, 76, 78–79, 82, 89–90, 92, 110, 131n56, 158, 234, 310n95. See also Teche Creole Bay St. Louis, xxvin2, 92 Beauchamp, Major de la Mobile, 59n36 Beaulieu (slave owner), 10 Beer, William, 5, 10–11, 16, 96 Belgium, 95, 128–29, 138n3, 388, 395, 398–99 Bell, Caryn Cossé, 17n15, 18 Bellisle, M., 34–35, 38 Benevolent societies, 442, 459–60 Beniamino, Michel, 110n27 Benin, 48 Benin, Bight of, 21, 57, 97–98 Bergeron, Julie, xvii Bernabé, Jean, 153n14, 184–85, 190–91, 213, 215–16, 266–67, 293n75, 296n77, 298n78, 300–02, 306n91, 311n99, 312n101, 318n109 Biafra, Bight of, 21, 97–98

Bickerton, Derek, xxxin11, 176, 235 Bienville, Jean Baptiste, Sieur de, 4, 6, 10–11, 52, 60n38, 93 Biloxi, Mississippi, 4 Black Creoles, xxxii, 141n5, 456. See also African Americans; Blacks; Creoles of color; Free people of color Blacks: English among, xxv, 20, 98–99, 108, 120–22, 124–26, 512– 13 Creole language among, xxv, xxxiii, 45, 52–53, 68, 85n75, 110, 112, 115–19, 120–22, 124–26, 139, 172n23, 186n39, 208–09n53, 255n40, 497–98, 511–13 Cajun French among, xxvii, xxxn9, 90 in colonial Louisiana, 6, 10–11, 15, 17, 21–22, 52–53, 72, 96–97 in contact with other groups, 8–9, 15, 90, 112–15, 120, 255n40 social relations among, 15 French language among, 15, 51–53, 99 and miscegenation, 15, 174, 329, 363, 368, 414–15, 489 and Creoles of color, 16 from the Caribbean, 21–22, 52–53, 85n75 African languages among, 51, 99 in the Attakapas district, 72 free, 72, 105, 106 table 8 satirizing of, 85n75

in Pointe Coupee Parish, 94, 96–99, 103–06, 108, 110, 113, 120–27 table 9, 133 ratio to whites, 103–06, 133 role of, in development of Louisiana Creole, 111, 139 education among, 120–27 table 9, 193, 420, 485, 494, 510 consulted for this study, 140 table 10, 255n40, 299n79, 376, 381, 395, 401, 425 as distinct from Creoles of color, 141n5 during segregation, 122–26, 209, 218, 345, 358, 419–20, 485–86, 510 relations with whites, 112–15, 120, 177, 208, 255n40, 261, 276, 377, 497–98, 511–12 physical mistreatment of, by whites, 122, 262, 425 and the Catholic Church, 419, 485–86, 490 and politics, 422–23 and benevolent societies, 460 relations with Creoles of color, 462, 485, 490, 494. See also African Americans; slaves Blyth, Carl, xxxn9, 132n57 Bollée, Annegret, 157, 180–81, 185, 213 table 15n1, 219 table 18n5, 251, 270, 298n78, 306n88, 319n111 Bombara (slave), 32 Bordeaux, 99

Boré, Étienne de, 103 Bossals, 52, 55. See also Slaves, African Bossu, Jean Bernard, 26n3, 42–43 Brasseaux, Carl A., xxviin3, 16n15, 19, 25n1, 71, 81, 100–01 Breaux Bridge: Creole identity in, xviiin3, 17n15 presence of other creole languages in, 129n51 Breaux Bridge, Creole of: compared to Creole of Pointe Coupee Parish, xxvii, xxxiv, 70, 102, 117–18, 133, 145n9, 146, 151n13, 159– 60, 166–67, 171–72n23, 174–77, 179, 181n35, 183, 185 table 13, 186, 188, 192–93, 198, 204n47, 208n51, 209n53, 210, 218, 223n60, 228n62, 236–37, 243n9, 245n16, 246–48n29, 249–50, 257n42, 257n44, 265, 274nn62–63, 278, 282, 285, 291–92, 295–76, 297–98, 310, 312n100, 314n104, 315–16n106, 317, 319, 322–24n113, 327, 353n122, 364, 463 Neumann’s description of, xxxiv, 70, 157, 159, 166 compared to Creole of early texts, 46n21, 69–70 influence of Cajun on, 69–70, 102 spoken by whites, 115, 117, 172n23, 209n53, 210. See also Teche Creole British colonies, 52 British colonists, 44 Broussard, James Francis, 70, 78n64, 82n71, 88–89, 112n30, 143n7, 167n15, 171n22, 234, 253n37, 254n38 Brown, Becky, xxix, xxxin11, 208n52

Bueche, Denis, xvii Byers, Bruce, xxixn6, 208n52 Cabannocé, 100 Cabinda, 6 Cable, George Washington, 14n10 Cadien, 101–02, 128 Cajun (French) language: in Pointe Coupee Parish, xxvi, xxxiii, 110, 113–14, 129, 504n21 origin and status of, xxvii, xxix–xxxii, 113–14, 128 distinguished from Louisiana Creole, xxvii–xxviii, xxxi, xxxiii, 112, 119, 128, 159–60, 209, 234, 379, 496 efforts to revive, xxx, xxxii linguistic features of, 63, 79, 143, 150n12, 151, 159, 189, 208n52, 234, 379 influence on Louisiana Creole, 69–70, 77, 79, 82, 89–90, 92, 102, 128–38, 177, 189, 224, 230, 260n48, 369, 376, 425 in contact with Louisiana Creole, 129, 138, 224, 376, 425. See also African Americans Cajuns, xxixn6, xxx, xxxii, 19, 101n12, 128n49, 130, 221, 227, 342, 351, 384, 387, 479, 482, 484, 496. See also Acadians Calabar, 21, 97 Calcasieu Parish, xxvi, xxxn8 California, xxvi, 482, 485, 489

Calomel, 221, 290, 351 Calques, 132, 280n66, 285n69, 298 Calvet, Louis-Jean, 22n24, 61n41, 110n27 Cameron Parish, xxix, xxxn8 Canada, 100, 102, 107, 129, 516 Canadians, xxv, 4, 13n9, 60n38, 95 Canary Islanders. See Isleños Cane River Valley, xxvin2 Canga, 97 Cannes Brulées, 11, 12 table 1 Caribbean, slaves from. See slaves, Caribbean Caribbean colonies, 43, 50, 51n28 Caribbean creoles: role of, in development of Louisiana Creole, 26, 46, 53, 91, 98, 105 early development of, 50 exported to West Africa, 51n28 dialectology of, 52 orthography of, 144 features of, compared, 26, 83n72, 168, 184, 189n41, 190, 215, 257n44, 300–02, 305–06, 318n109 Carondelet, Francisco Luis Héctor, Barón de, 67n54

Carrington, Lawrence D., 180, 194, 213 table 15n1, 215, 268, 298n78, 301, 305, 306n92, 311n99, 318n109 Catholics and Catholicism: schools, 124, 485, 494 conversion from, 424, 426, 454–55 prayers, 425 and dancing, 454, 457–58 picnic fundraiser, 463 and race, 485, 494 mentioned, 131, 381, 495 Causative constructions, 287–88 Cayenne, 19, 52 Ceard, Sr., 96 Censuses: U.S., xxvii, xxviiin4, xxxn9, 72 table 3, 73, 81, 94, 101, 104, 106 table 8, 107, 126, 127 table 9 French, 10n7, 12n5, 24 table 2, 57, 96 Spanish, 20, 23, 24 table 2, 57, 72 table 3, 97n5, 106 table 8 Cérol, Marie-Josée, 184–85, 190–91, 214, 216–17, 219 Chagos, creole of, 268 Chamba, 21, 97 Chapitoulas, 10–11, 12 table 1, 23, 24 table 2, 90, 103–04 Charlot dit Kakaracou (slave), 28–35, 37–40

Châteaugué, Antoine Le Moyne de, 6 Chatillon, M., 51 Chaudenson, Robert, xv, xxxiin16, 7n4, 48–49, 54–57, 59, 60n37, 60n39, 68, 69n56, 90–92, 102–03, 110n27, 179–80, 181, 184–85, 190–91, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 216 table 17, 219 table 18, 248n28, 251–35, 271, 298n78 Chenal, 94, 98, 109, 140 Table 10, 346, 378, 472, 489–93, 504, 513, 514 Chetimachas (Indian village), 96n4 Chickasaw, 7, 59 Chitimacha tribe, 4 Christophe, Harriet, xxvii Christophe, Kerney, xxvii Chustz, Preston, xvii Cigale et la Fourmi, la, 46 Civil War: decline of the French language following, xxix social and economic changes caused by, 112–13, 119 mentioned, 125–26 Clark, john G., 11 Claude (slave), 30, 39 Clefting, 62, 63n46, 64, 66, 295, 301, 310 Clifton, Deborah. See Hills, Deborah Clifton

CODOFIL (Council for the Development of French in Louisiana), xxx–xxxi, 129–30 Colar, Mumford, xvii Colonial French. See French language, Colonial French Colonists, 5, 8, 10–11, 13n9, 15, 18–19, 23, 45n19, 54–55, 60n38, 80n66, 91, 99, 111 Colonization, 4 Comeaux, Cliff, xvi Commerce, 5, 13, 15, 18, 56, 108 Comparative structures, 87, 200n45, 313, 318–20 Concessions, 4–7, 11–12, 95–97, 99 Coneda, 28, 31 Congo, 21, 97 Congo Square, 14n10 Conjunctions, 156, 364–72 Conrad, Glenn R., 25nl, 81, 103 Continuum, xxxi–xxxiii, 69, 179 Contout, Auxence, 302 Convergence, linguistic, 65, 67, 78 Conwell, Marilyn J., xxixn6, 143n7, 189 Cooley, Ebenezer, 101n10

Copula, 62–64, 66, 119, 158, 189, 252, 270–71, 20–81, 283, 288– 93, 295–304, 331 Corne, Chris, xv, 69n56, 77–78, 88, 160n2, 169, 180–81 table 12, 184–85, 191, 213 table 15, 216, 219 table 18, 250–51, 270–71, 273n60, 298n78, 303, 316n106, 317n107 Corpora, linguistic, xxixn6, xxxiv, 137, 250, 257n44 Costello, Brian J., xvi, 95, 96n3, 99n8, 99, 101, 103n17, 106 table 8, 107, 109, 113–14, 120, 122n41, 125n45, 126, 128n49, 310n96 Costello, Inez, xvii Costello, Joseph, xvii Côte des Allemands. See German Coast Cotton, 18, 91, 94, 103, 211, 293, 307, 309, 311–12, 325, 327, 339, 343, 452, 460, 488 Cotton gin, 94, 103, 164, 307, 312, 368, 488 Coureurs de bois, 8, 60n38, 95, 96n3 Couri-vini (name for Louisiana Creole), 128n49 Coustillas, 11 Cowan, Christine, xvi C.R.E.O.L.E, Inc., 32–33, 129n51 Creole languages: as part of a speech continuum, xxxin11 speakers of, 23 development of, 24–25, 47–55, 60–67, 71, 73, 77, 102

in Louisiana, 25, 46 compared to Louisiana Creole, 62, 234, 252, 311 African influences on, 61–67 Louisiana Creole speakers’ awareness of, 129 prototypical features of, 176, 178, 235. See also names of individual creole languages; Antillean creoles; Caribbean creoles; Diffusionist scenario of creole development; English-lexifier creoles; Frenchlexifier creoles; Lesser Antillean creoles; Monogenesis Creoles, black, xxxii, 141n5, 456. See also Creoles of color Creoles, white, 102, 109, 130n52, 141n5 Créoles de Pointe Coupée, Les, 130 Creole slaves. See Slaves, Creole Creoles of color: defined, xxvn1, 141n5 ethnic and language labels among, xxvi–xxviiin2, 94n2 and the French revival movement, xxxii–xxxiii, 130 identity among, 16–17n15, 94n2, 462 relations with blacks and whites, 16, 274, 462, 485–86, 489–90, 494 use of the Creole language among, 108–09, 121 education among, 125, 462, 484–85, 494 consulted for this study, 138–40, 375, 388, 462 in Raccourci, 481–82, 489

passing for white, 16, 482–83 and the Catholic church, 485–86, 490 and the Chenal picnic, 489–90 and medical care, 493. See also Creoles, black; Creoles, white; Free people of color Creolization, xxxiiin18, 46–47n22, 54–56, 60n39, 63, 68, 102, 111– 12, 114, 139 Crime, among slaves, 13, 34–35 Crozat, Antoine, Marquis de Chatel, 4 Cuba, 52, 80, 82n70 Cupidon (slave), 29–30, 39 Curet, Bernard, 103, Curtin, Philip D., 57–58 Dances and dancing, 14, 274, 286, 293–94, 304, 346, 365–66, 379– 82, 386–87, 402, 413–14, 439–40, 454, 457–59, 462, 485, 490, 492–93 Damoiseau, Robert, 181n12, 184, 185n13, 191, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 266–67, 291n71, 291n72, 293n75, 300–01, 305, 306n91, 306n92 Dartaguiette, 11 Dartaignan, M. le Comte, 11 Dasfeld, 11 Dauphiné, 100 David, Charles, xvi, 108

David, Eunice, xvii David, Fred, xvii David, Melba, xvii Debien, Gabriel, 14n10, 22, 80 De Bow, J. D. B., 72 table 3 DeCamp, David, xxxin11 Decreolization, xxxiiin18, 26n4, 70, 77, 139, 177, 291 DeCuir, Joseph, xvi DeCuir, Nola, xvii DeGraff, Michel, 263–65, 300–01, 305, 311n99, 318n109 Deiler, J. Hanno, 10n7 De Lery, 10–11 Démocrate de la Pointe Coupée. See Pointe Coupee Democrat Democrats, 223, 421, 423 Denasalization, 144, 151, 246, 334 Denis, Arthur, 107 Denuzière, Maurice, 5 Des Allemands, 5nl, 100 Desegregation, 125n45 De Soto, Hernando, 3

DeSoto, Ovide, xvi DeSoto, Virginia, xvi Determiners: postposed, xxxiiin19, 43, 52n29, 62, 65–66, 84n73, 85n75, 154, 156–57, 172–76, 181–85, 463 definite, xxxiiin19, 43, 62, 65–66, 84–85, 154, 156–57, 159, 163– 64n10, 172–76, 178–81, 192, 388, 463 in general, xxxiiin19, 65, 116–17, 138, 154, 160, 162n7, 163–64n10, 166, 256, 301, 378, 463 partitive, 36, 39n13, 159, 170 possessive, 41, 52n29, 65, 84–85n75, 116–17, 164n10, 174, 186– 91, 212, 215, 231–32, 305, 379, 497, 499n19 indefinite, 159, 171–72, 197, 218 demonstrative, 62, 65, 154, 156–57, 159, 163, 181–85 bimorphemic, 66, 84 French, 41, 65n48, 117, 154, 159, 170 marking of specificity, 176–78 deictic properties of, 178–79 cross-creole comparison of, 179–81, 184–85, 190–91, 388 quantifying, 192–97, 223 Detroit, 100 De Ville, Winston, 72, 95–96, 99–100, 107n22 Devon, 31

Diffusionist scenarios of creole development, 47–51 Diglossia, 130, 208n50 Din, Gilbert C., 18n18 Dislocation (left), 232, 291 Dominguez, Virginia R., xxviin3 Dominica, 144 Dominican Creole, 169 table 11, 305, 306n92 Dormon, James H., 17n15 Dorr, J. W., 101n11 Douglas, Neal Brown, 122n41 Dublin, 497, 506, 515 Dubois, Sylvie, xxvii, xxviiin3, xxviiin4, xxixn6, xxxn9, xxxiin14, xxxiiin17, 17n15 Dubreuil, Entrepreneur Général du Roy, 10, 11, 29–30 Duc du Maine, le, 6n3 Ducœurjoly, S. J., 26, 82n71, 84, 85n76, 87, 215 Dugas, Alice M., 110 Dugas, Stephen, 310n95 Duplessis, commandant at Pointe Coupee, 100 Dupont (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94, 140 table 10, 504, 514 Durand, Sidney Joseph, 143n6

Écho de la Pointe Coupée. See Pointe Coupee Echo Ecology, 54n32 Education: role of, in shift to English, 109, 120–22, 124–26, 133, 480, 497, 509, 513 of African Americans, 120n39, 122–26, 127 table 9, 193, 241, 407, 419–21, 426, 427n9, 444–45, 485, 494 of Louisianans in France, xxviii segregation in, 124, 407, 419–21, 484, 494, 510 of Creoles of color, 28, 120n39, 125, 369, 421, 462, 468, 484–85, 494 of whites, 28, 120n39, 121–22, 124–26, 127 table 9, 342, 407, 419– 21, 484, 494, 510. See also English language, education in; French language, education in Edwards, Jay D., 89n83 Ehrhart, Sabine, 157, 180–81, 184–85, 190–91, 213 table 15, 216, 219n18, 251, 272, 298n78, 303, 306–07, 319n111 Ellois, Angelina, xvii Ellois, LeRoy "Doc," xvii England, 17, 19, 100. See also British colonies; British colonists English language: census data on, xxvii dominance of, xxx–xxxi, 92, 99–100, 108–09, 115, 119–28, 131, 133, 142 influence on Louisiana Creole, 131–32, 142–43, 146, 177n31, 211n55, 280n66, 298

among slaves, 20–21, 44, 68, 98–100, 107–08, 125 early presence in Louisiana, 20–21, 108n24 presence in Pointe Coupee Parish, 44, 97n6, 98–100, 107–08, 125 in the press, 108 in education, 120–28, 480, 497, 509, 513 in diglossic relationship with Louisiana Creole, 130–31 lexical borrowings from 132, 142, 146, 148–49, 249, 262–63 regional features of, 142, 143n6, 189n41, 202, 251n36, 285n69, 304n85, 309n94, 310n96, 341n120 in religion, 425, 486 mentioned, xxv, 110–11, 114 English-lexifier creoles, 47, 189n41, 263n52 Escure, Geneviève, xxxin11 Eunice (city in Louisiana), xxixn6 Evangeline Parish, xxxn8 Ewe, 65n49 Existential expressions, 307–09, 325 Fabre, Alvin J., Jr., 125n45 Fabre, Cliff, xvi, Faine, Jules, 87, 216, 306n90, 307, 311n99 False River: field research in, xv linguistic situation of, xxvi, 109–10, 137, 255n40, 354n123

traditional culture of, xxxv, 386, 426, 512 geography of, 94, 498, 508 economy of, 95, 103 plantations along, 98, 107, 113, 120 "Acadian" settlement along, 101n11 Creole residents of, 462, 489 religions of, 485 mentioned, 122, 140–41 table 10, 142, 184, 196, 378 False River Academy, 124 Farar, Dr. Benjamin, 98–100, 107 Farmers, sharecropper. See Sharecroppers and sharecropper farming Farmers, small, xxxiii, 7, 19, 54, 108–09, 112. See also habitants Farming, sharecropper. See Sharecroppers and sharecropper farming Farming, subsistence, 7, 9, 24 Farms, small, 9–10, 13, 15, 42, 54–56, 91, 97, 102, 109. See also habitations Farmsteads, 38, 91, 168 Fauquenoy, Marguerite, 181 table 12, 184–85, 190–91, 191 table 14, 213 table 15, 215, 216 table 17, 219 table 18, 267–68, 298n78, 300– 02, 306, 311n99, 312n101, 318n109

Fausse Rivière. See False River Ferguson, Charles, 130n54 First-generation creoles, 49n25 Fishman, Joshua A., 130n54 Fleischmann, Ulrich, 14n10 Florida, 17, 19 Folk healers, 280, 370, 388, 390, 393–94 Folklore, 382 Folktales, 46, 89n83 Folse (surname), 6 Fon: ethnic group, 21, 97 language, 59 Fordoche, 94 Fortier, Alcée, 26n3, 46, 85–86, 96n3, 175n27, 176, 215, 227– 28n62, 285n69, 315 Fort Maurepas, 4 Fort Rosalie, 96 Français populaire d’Abidjan, 169n20 France: nineteenth-century links between Louisiana and, xxviii ancestors from, xxix, 483–84 settlers from, xxxiii, 4, 13n9, 96, 99, 102, 107

colonization of Louisiana by (see French colonization); transfer of Louisiana to Spain, 17 Acadians in, 19 United States purchase of Louisiana from, 107 Louisiana soldiers in, 128, 138n3, 388 tourists from, 128–29 priests sent to Louisiana from, 486 Francophones: African American and Creole of color, xxvi, 23, 38, 44, 54–55, 92, 99, 102, 108n24, 109, 132, 141n5 non-Acadian, xxviin3, xxviii continued immigration to Louisiana of, xxviii, 19, 23, 102, 107 in contact with other immigrant groups, 5–6, 18, 60, 112 during colonial period, xxviii, 8–16, 38, 44, 54–55, 60, 102, 111 as part of a world-wide community, xxx–xxxi, 128–30, 515–16 in school, xxxi in contact with Africans, 8–16, 38, 45n19, 48, 51–52, 54–55, 60, 100, 102–03, 105, 108n24 white, 9–13, 44–45, 54, 99–100, 108n24, 109, 111–19, 139 of Acadian descent, 19 as slaves, 23, 38, 44, 51–55, 99, 108 from Saint-Domingue, 23

non-Francophones, 60, 95, 107, 112n29, 114 migration within Louisiana, 100, 109 identity of, 107 Francophone triangle, xxix, 93 Free blacks, 72, 105, 106 table 8 Freeman, Bryant, 250, 312n101 Free people of color, xxviii, 9, 16, 23, 79, 97, 106n3. See also Creoles of color French: as a language label, xxvii–xxviii French and Indian War, 17 French colonization, 3–17, 20–21, 23–24, 50, 56n33, 57, 68–69, 93– 97, 99–100 French Guiana, 50, 52 French islands, 21–22, 25n1, 50, 53, 82, 98 French language: U.S. census data on, xxvii, xxxn9, 127n47 Standard French, xxviii–xxxii, 13, 28n7, 29, 33, 36–37, 39–41, 109, 128, 138 Plantation Society French, xxviii–xxx, 110, 113 Colonial French, xxviii–xxix; dialects of, xxix, xxxiv, 13, 54, 63, 91– 92, 99, 102, 110, 113–14, 248n28 Popular (vernacular) French, xxix, 13, 41, 54, 65, 77 efforts to revive, xxx, xxxii, 129

in a speech a continuum, xxxi–xxxii, 69 among young Louisianans, xxxi in education, xxxi–xxxii, 121, 129–30, 487 maintenance of, xxxiin15, 108–09, 129 other immigrant groups’ adoption of, 5–6, 18, 112, 114 among slaves, 8–16, 38, 44, 51–55, 59–60, 68, 99–100, 102–03, 108n24 during the colonial period, 13, 54 approximate varieties of, 41–42, 45, 53, 55, 59–60, 68–69, 90–91, 99, 103 maritime French, 48 pidgin French, 48, 51, 53, 168, 169n20 in Senegambia, 58, 61n40 restructuring of, 63 Caribbean speakers of, in Louisiana, 107 in the press, 108–09 decline of, 120–21 influence on English (see English language); in diglossic relationship with Louisiana Creole, 208n50 Old French, 248n28 in religion, 362, 425, 486–87

Creole speakers’ contact with, 339–40, 388, 395–96, 398–99, 484, 486–87 French-lexifier creoles, xxv, xxxiv, 26, 47–53, 60n39, 64, 65n50, 67, 77, 83, 110n27, 111, 157 imported to Louisiana, 98, 105, 129 orthographies for, 144, 153, 156, 179n34 comparison of, 157–58, 160n2, 168–69, 178–81, 184–85, 190–91, 198, 212–17, 234, 248n28, 255, 257n44, 263–73, 298n78, 299–307, 310, 311n99, 318n109, 319 French Louisiana: definition of, xxix; language situation in, xxxi Creoles of color in, 94n2 migration to Pointe Coupee Parish from, 107, 109 place of Pointe Coupee Parish in, 129, 132 Gaines, Ernest J., 122n41 Galvestown (town in Louisiana), 18 Gauthier, Edward, xvii Gehman, Mary, 16n15 Gender, xxxiiin19, 41, 116–17, 138, 170–71, 180, 186–87, 198, 209, 378, 463 George, Madeleine, xvii Georgia, 99n7 German Coast, xxv, xxxiii, 5, 12n4, 24, 92, 100. See also Allemand, Côte des

German settlers and immigrants, 5, 100, 112 Giambroni, Steve, xvi Gilcriest, Jean, 101n10 Glynn (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 366, 378, 476, 493 Gold Coast, 98 table 7 Gonzalez (surname), 19 Goodman, Morris F., 47–50, 51n28, 52, 85, 189, 215, 248n28, 302n82, 364 Gougenheim, Georges, 13 Gould, Virginia Meacham, 6, 16 Grant, Anthony P., 168, 169 Grenadian Creole, 312n101 Griolet, Patrick, 6 Guadeloupe, 51, 105, 129n51 Guadeloupean Creole, xxxivn22, 52, 144, 169n11, 180, 184, 190– 91, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 215, 216 table 17, 217, 219 table 18, 250, 266–68, 296n77, 300–02, 305–06, 312n101 Guerin, Nolan, xvii Guianese Creole, 50, 52, 160n2, 169 table 11, 179–80, 184–85, 190, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 215, 216 table 17, 248n28, 257n44, 267– 68, 300–02, 305–06, 312n101 Guidry, Richard, xxxiin16

Guilbeau, John, xxixn6 Guillaume, J. B., xvii Guillaume, Thelma, xvii Guinea: ethnic group, 21n23 region, 51, 98 table 7 Gulf coast, xxv, 17n16 Gulf of Benin, 6 Gulf of Guinea Portuguese Creole, 48 Gulf of Mexico, 3–4, 93 Gullah, 99n7 Gumbo: name for Louisiana Creole, 128n49 traditional Louisiana dish, 89, 178, 196, 221, 227, 238, 244, 254, 313, 353, 361, 369, 371, 386, 396–97, 399–400, 461, 491 Guyanese Creole, 251–52 Habitants, xxxiii, 10, 54, 97. See also Farmers, small Habitations, 9, 37, 109, 168. See also Société d’habitation; Farms, small Habitation Saint-Ybars, 85, 112n30, 208 Hainaut, 95, 99 Haitian Creole: orthography for, xxxivn22, 144

relationship of, to Louisiana Creole, 25–27, 43, 50, 52, 70–71, 73, 79, 82–92, 129, 264–65 origin and development of, 50, 52 possible African influence on, 61, 64–65, 67 in Louisiana, 52, 68–71, 73, 79–83, 85, 89–91, 110 northern dialect of, 84–85, 116n35, 189, 215n59 presence in Pointe Coupee Parish, 129–30 in comparison with other French-lexifier creoles, 160n2, 169, 173n24, 179–80, 184, 189–91, 213–16, 235n2, 248n28, 250, 257n42, 257n44, 263–67, 269, 292n73, 293–75, 300–01, 305–06, 312n101, 317n107, 388, 463n13 Haitian Revolution, 25n1, 79, 91, 105n19 Hall, Gwendolyn Midlo, xvi, 6–8, 10n7, 11, 14, 16–17, 20–21, 28–28, 31n10, 38n1, 44, 48–49, 52, 56–62, 67n54, 74 table 4, 75, 76, 81, 82nn70–71, 89n83, 91, 96–99, 104n18, 105 Hall, Robert A., 87, 250n33, 257n44, 265, Hancock, Ian F., 47, 301 Hanger, Kimberly S., 16n13, 17n17 Harris, M. R., 62n44 Harrison, J. A., 111–12 Havana, 6, 52 Hawkins, Carl, xvi Hazaël-Massieux, Guy, 51–52, 66

Hebert, Eugene "Garcon," xvii Hebert, Mayola, xvii Henry, Jacques, 30n10, 31 Hermitage (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 504, 514 Hewes, Thomas H., 122n41 Higginbotham, Jay, 6, 60n38 Highlighting, 64, 66, 291, 295, 301, 310. See also Clefting Hills, Deborah Clifton, xxvi, xxxiin16, 88 Himel (surname), 6 History of Pointe Coupee Parish, Louisiana, xvi Holloway, Charles E., 18 Holm, John, 47n22, 48, 62–66, 67n52, 99n7, 189n41, 263n52, 310, 311n98, 313, 318n109 Holmes, Eunice Jarreau, xvii Hookoomsing, Vinesh Y., 219 table 18, 298n78 Huber (surname), 6 Hubert, Marc-Antoine, 9 Hull, Alexander, 46–48, 49n26, 51, 88 Hypercorrection, 150, 308n93 Iberia Parish, xxxn8, 71n59, 72 table 3n1 Iberville, Pierre le Moyne, Sieur d’, 4, 6, 93

Iberville Parish, xxxn8 Ibo, 21, 97 Ile-de-France, 13n9 Ile-de-France creoles, 77, 250–51, 302–03 Illinois, 14, 100 Illiteracy, xxviii, xxixn5, 111, 126 Imperative, xxxiiin19, 41, 88, 117, 235, 237–39, 243, 296, 313–15, 321 Impersonal expressions, 88, 235, 298, 307–11, 325 Indentured servants, 4, 9–10, 12 table 1n2, 96, 112 Indian Ocean creoles, 26, 50, 52, 83n72, 168, 190–91, 216–17, 248n28, 250–51, 268–72, 302–03, 305, 318n109 Indians: in contact with other groups, xxv, 3–5, 7–9, 15, 19n20, 23, 56, 60, 91, 482 as speakers of Louisiana Creole, xxv as slaves, 5, 10–12, 15, 23, 69n57, 74n1, 74n3, 96–97 dwindling numbers of, 23, 195 and linguistic influence on Louisiana Creole, 48, 60 and language use, 60, 192 Natchez massacre, 96 mentioned, 106

Indian tribes: Chetimachas, 4 Chickasaw, 7, 59 Natchez, 7, 38n12, 96 Tunica, 4, 96 Indigo, 7, 103 Indo-European languages, 64 Industrial and High School, 122 Innis (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94 Input in creole development, 49n25, 63, 70, 77, 92 Integration, 124 Interracial marriage. See Marriage, interracial Interrogative structures, 63, 227–29, 295–96, 301, 303, 329–35. See also Adjectives, interrogative; Adverbs, interrogative; Pronouns, interrogative. Ireland, 112, 497, 506, 515 Island, The (Pointe Coupee Parish place name): geographical situation of, 94 language use on, 107–08, 255n40, 354n123, 497, 515 contact among blacks and whites on, 113, 255n40, 497, 511–12 "Cajuns" of, 351, 482 life on, 458–62, 497–99, 508, 512

mentioned, 122, 124, 140–41 table 10, 291, 346, 369, 376, 425, 455–56 Isle d’yberville, 96 Isleños, 18 Italian language, 110 Italians, 112n29, 114, 179, 209, 229, 294, 326, 345 Jarreau (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94, 122, 140–41 table 10, 144n8, 497, 508, 511, 513–14 Jarreau, Aricie, xvii Jarreau, Ceasar, xvii Jarreau, Edward, xvii Jarreau, Elmo, xvii Jarreau, Hilda, xvii Jarreau, Lafayette, xxxn15, xxxivn21, 79, 151, 249n32, 255n39, 256, 278, 328n166 Jarreau, Nellie, xvii Jarreau, Tammy Lynn, xvii Jarreau, Willet, xvii Jazz, 441, 459, 473, 490 Jean-Baptiste (slave), 6 Jean-Baptiste, Rozevel, 82n71, 181 table 12, 184, 185 table 13, 190, 191 table 14, 215, 263–65, 298n78, 301, 318n109

Jeanes Fund, 123n42 Jefferson Davis Parish, xxxn8 Jennings, William, 50–51 Joseph (slave), 6, 29–30, 32, 39 Joseph, Isabelle, xvii Juda, 6, 48 Juilland, Alphonse, xxixn6, 143n7, 189 Jupiter (slave), 42 Kaarta, kingdom of, 57 Kador, Harry, xvii Kador, Melvin, xvii Kador, Richard "Expert," xvii Kador, Richard "Pritcha," xvii Kakaracou, Charlot dit. See Charlot dit Kakaracou Karipúna Creole, 305–06 Kein, Sybil, xxxiin16, 17n15 Kennedy, C. G., 72 table 3 Kilman, Grady W., 21 Klingler, Charles, xvi Klingler, Thomas A., xxxin12, 62n44, 69n58, 70–71, 78, 79n65, 132n57, 137, 154n16, 167

Koinéization, 113–14 Kolly, Sr., 10–11 Kraemer (surname), 6 Kraemer (town in Louisiana), xxvi, 92, 110, 150n12 KRVS Lafayette, xxxii Kwa languages, 62n44, 66 Labatut, Francis Albert, xvii Labatut, Laura, xvii Labatut, Nellie, xvii Labranche (surname), 6 Lachance, Paul F., xvi, 23, 67, 68n54, 80, 82–83n71, 108n24 Lacombe (town in Louisiana), xxvi Lafayette, xxxii, 128–30, 172, 183, 396, 399, 489 Lafayette Parish, xxvi, xxxn8, 72 table 3n1 Lafitte, Jean, 22n24 LaFleur, Amanda, xvi Lafourche, Bayou, 18–19 Lafourche Parish, xxvi, xxix, xxxn8, 92, 138n3, 150n12, 224, 230, 234n1, 260n48, 376–77 La freniere, 10–11 Laguerre, Jowel, 250, 312n101

Lake Charles, xxvi, 88 Lakeland (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94, 120, 140 table 10, 369, 419, 514 Landry (surname), 19 Lane, George S., 143n6, 162, 234, 253n37, 254n38, 259 Lange (slave owner), 11 Language universals, 49, 60, 62–64, 66–67 Languedoc, 100 La Rochelle, 99 La Salle, René-Robert Cavalier, Sieur de, 3–4 Latin, 64, 470, 486–87 Latulipe (slave), 43–44 Laurent (slave and overseer), 31, 39 Lavergne, Remi, xxxivn21, 144n8, 255n39 Law, John, 4, 10 LeBeau, Murray, xvi LeBlanc, Valerien, 44–45 LeCan, Jean François, 6n2 LeDuff, Ferdinand, xvii LeDuff, Thelma "Sis," xvii Le Gardeur, René, 22, 80

Leonard, Betty, xvii Lesser Antillean creoles, 27n6, 50. See also Antillean creoles Lettsworth, 94 Leveillé (overseer), 35–36 Leveling, xxix, 114n31 Lewis, Lena Jarreau, xvii Lipski, John M., 18n18 Livonia (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94 Livoy, M. de, 42 Lobdell (town in Louisiana), 140 table 10 London, 100 Lorio, Samuel P., 123 Lorraine, 99 Louisiana Board of Regents, xv Louisiana Creole: origin and development of, xvi, xxxiv, 3, 6, 13, 24– 92, 99, 111–12 current situation of, xxv–xxxiii, 23, 92 distinguished from Cajun French, xxvi, xxvii–xxviii, xxx–xxxi, 119, 128n49, 159–60, 209, 234 compared to Haitian Creole, 25–27, 43, 50, 52, 82–89, 180, 184, 189–90, 215, 248n28, 250, 257n42, 257n44, 263–65, 301

early attestations of, 27–46, 48, 176, 189, 234–36, 248n28, 291, 388 possible influences on, from African languages, 60–67 possible multiple origins of, 69 folktales in, 89n83 white speakers of, 110–12, 119, 139 phonology of and notational system for, 143–53, 179n34 nominal agglutination in, 159–69 definite determiners in, 177–78, 180 possessive determiners in, 187 possessive pronouns in, 215 verbal morphology of, 234–36, 249–50 expression of tense in, 251–52, 254 progressive markers in, 255 future markers in, 258–59 copula in, 301 reflexive verbs in, 305–07 serial-like verbs in, 311–12. See also Breaux Bridge, Creole of; Mississippi Creole; St. Martinville, Creole of; Teche Creole Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities, xv Louisiana Purchase, 5, 19, 72–73, 107 Louisiana Slave Database, xvi, 20n21, 74 table 4, 81, 105

Lourdes, 99 Lucas, Ray F., 103 Ludwig, Ralph, 180, 181 table 12, 191 table 14, 213 table 15, 214 table 16 n2, 216 table 17, 217, 219 table 18, 250, 266–67, 301, 305– 06, 312n101 Lurcy, Georges, Charitable and Education Trust, xv Lyon, 100 Maduell, Charles R., 11, 12 table 1n3, n5, 17, 69n57, 96 Maguire, Rober E., 25n1 Maher, Julianne, 110n27 Major, Earl, xvii Major, Emily, xvii Major, Irene, xvii Major, John Wage, xvii Malaga, 18n17 Malinke: language, 57–58 ethnic group, 57 Manding, 21, 97 Mandinka, 64 Manumission, 16 Marches, des (landowner), 96

Maritime French, 48 Marksville, xxixn6 Marriage: between slaves, 14 interracial, 16; contracts, 20n21, 74 table 4, 99–100, 107n22 intra-family, 109 mentioned, 327 Marshall, Margaret M., xvi, xxvin2, xxxin11, xxxiii, 25n2, 27, 28n7, 42, 143n6, 249n32, 255 Martin, Florence, xvii Martin, François Xavier, 3, 106 table 8 Martinican Creole, xxxivn22, 28, 51–52, 144, 153n14, 168–69, 184, 190n42, 191, 213 table 15n1, 214 table 16n2, 215, 266–68, 292n73, 293n75, 296n77, 300–02, 305, 306nn91–92, 312n101 Martinique, 51, 105 Maryland, 19 Massachusetts, 100, 101n10 Mathis, Lottie Jarreau, xvii Mauritian Creole, 50, 160n2, 168–69, 180, 184–85, 191, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 216 table 17, 250, 268–69, 306, 316 Mauritius, 50–51 McGowan, James T., 9, 13–15, 103n16, 104

McWhorter, John H., 47n23, 67n53 Melançon, Megan E., xxvii, xxvii–viii, xxvi–iin4, xxixn6, xxxn9, xxxiin14, xxxiiin17, 17n15 Menn, Joseph K., 107 Mercier, Alfred, 27n3, 43n17, 84–85, 112n30, 189, 208, 215 Méschacébé, Le, 85n75 Mesieres, de (landowner), 95 Mesolect, xxxin11 Mesolectal speakers and features, 89n84, 115, 138–39, 143, 166, 198, 200, 223n60, 246n18, 251, 255, 260, 279, 302, 313n103, 378– 79, 382, 425, 463, 498 Messenger, 108n25 Military: personnel, 4, 42, 97, 100 posts and fortifications, 4, 5, 7, 96 service, 7, 16, 42, 56 Miller (surname), 19 Mills, Gary B., 16n15 Mina, 21, 59, 97, 103n15 Mina conspiracy, 59, 103n15. See also Slave revolts Miro, Esteban, 21–22 Mississippi, state of, xxvin2, 4, 92, 107

Mississippi Creole, 70, 75–79, 82–90 Mississippi River: as geographic reference point, xxvi, xxix, 5, 19, 93–94, 378 plantations along, xxxiv, 7, 10–12 table 1, 23, 92, 103 linguistic developments along, xxxiv, 92 exploration of, 3–4, 71, 93 settlement along, 5, 7, 10–12 table 1, 16–17, 19, 23, 90, 92, 95–96, 103 travel on, 56 mentioned, 95 Mississippi Valley, xxv, 3–4, 9, 11, 71–73, 75–77 Mix (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94, 122n41, 140 table 10, 283, 294 Mix, Thomas, 103 Mixed race, xxv, xxvii, xxxii, 15–16, 141n5, 202, 414–15, 462, 489. See also Creoles of color Mobile, xxv–xxvin2, 4, 6, 16, 42 Monceret, Joseph, xvi Mondesir, Joseph E., 298n78 Mongin, Jean, 50–51 Moniteur de la Louisiane, Le, 22 Mon Louis Island (Alabama), xxvin2, 92, 249n32

Monogenesis, 47–50, 61n40 Monolingualism and monolinguals, 115, 120–21 Montreal, 100 Mood: preverbal markers of, 26, 62, 119, 234–36, 251–52, 254–55, 261–62, 264–66, 268, 270–72, 277, 302–03, 327 expression of, 45, 62, 276 conditional, 26, 62–63, 235n2, 254–55, 261–62, 264–65, 267–68, 270–72, 276, 296, 303 system of, 62, 252, 263, 267–68 irrealis, 254–55, 261–62, 265–66 Moody, Vernie A., 11n8 Moreton, Rebecca, xvi Morgan, Raleigh, Jr., 83, 114n31, 254n38, 259 Morganza (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94, 504, 514 Morin, Antoine, 103 Morphology. See Verb morphology Morphophonological processes, 173n25, 179, 209–12, 216n7, 242, 388 Morphosyntax, 60, 62, 67, 116–19, 157 Mozambique, 98 table 7 Mufwene, Salikoko S., 54n32, 61n41

Mulattoes, 97, 378, 414–15, 419. See also Creoles of color; Free people of color Mûlattresse, 415 Music, xxxii, 130, 380–81, 386, 414, 440–41, 458–59, 462, 474, 490–92 Nantes, 99 Nard, 21 Nasalization, 145–46, 151–53, 156, 173, 247, 256, 331n117, 388, 395, 463n12 Nasal vowels, 143–46, 150–53, 173, 215, 218, 244, 246–47, 331n117, 388, 463n12 Natchez (fort and town), 4, 96, 100 Natchez (Indiana tribe), 7, 38n12, 96 Natchez War, 38 Natchitoches, xxv, 4, 17n16, 92, 100 Nation/nation in reference to ethnic groups, 21, 28, 31, 57–59n36, 91, 415 National Endowment for the Humanities, xv Ndjuka, 189n41 Negation, 26, 40, 197, 256–59, 264–68, 272–76, 278, 289, 292–93, 301, 313–15, 320–29. See also Adverbs, negative Neumann, Ingrid: on current situation of Louisiana Creole, xxvi, xxvii on Cajun French, xxxn9

on the continuum model, xxxin11 on decreolization and the influence of Cajun on Louisiana Creole, xxxiii, 26n4, 46n21, 69–70, 77, 79, 90–91, 102, 139, 175–77, 186n39, 189, 234–36, 291–92 on Creole of whites, xxxiiin18, 112–15, 138n2, 210n54 on Creole of Pointe Coupee Parish, xxxiii, 102, 179, 223n60, 227n62 description of Creole of Breaux Bridge, xxxiv, 67n53, 70–71, 78, 82n71, 83–84, 86–88, 117, 143n7, 145n9, 146–47, 150–51n13, 157– 59nl, 160–61n4, 162n6, 164, 166–67n15, 171–72n23, 174–77, 179, 181n35, 183, 185 table 13, 188, 192–93, 198, 204n47, 208n51, 209n53, 218–19 table 18, 223n60, 225, 234–36, 243n9, 244–45n16, 246–48n29, 249n32, 253–55, 257n42, n44, 259–61n50, 265, 274nn62–63, 276n64, 278, 280n66, 282, 285–86, 291–93, 295, 297–98, 310, 314n104, 315, 317, 319nlll, 322–24n113, 327, 353n122, 355n124, 364, 463 on notation of Louisiana Creole, xxxivn22, 147, 153, 163–64n10 on origin and development of Louisiana Creole, 25–27, 43, 69–70, 85, 189, 212n56 on serial verbs, 67n53, 86, 311–12 on the passive, 88, 316n106, 317 on names for Louisiana Creole, 128n49 Neumann-Holzschuh, Ingrid, xvi, 46, 84–85n75, 87–88n79, 180, 248n28 Nevis, 6, 52 New Caledonia, 157, 169 table 11 Newfoundland, 506–07, 516

New Iberia, 18 Newman, Paul, xvi New Orleans: language in, xxv-xxvi, 23, 70, 75, 78, 82, 85–86, 88n80, 89–90, 108n24, 215, 298, 335 meaning of Creole as ethnic designation in, xxviin3 settlement, 4–5 slaves in, 7, 10–12 table 1, 14n10, 15, 23–24 table 2, 56, 75, 79–82, 89–91, 103–04, 108n24 cultural contact in, 15, 56 interracial marriage in, 16 free people of color in, 16 passing for white in, 16n 14, 482–83 Governor O’Reilly’s arrival in, 18 Saint-Domingue refugees and slaves in, 22–23, 79–82, 89 slave trials in, 28, 44–45 settlers from, in Pointe Coupee Parish, 100 New Orleans Creole, xxvi, 82, 85–86, 88n80, 335 New Roads, 94–95, 109–10, 123n42, 129, 137, 140 table 10, 403, 407, 414, 419, 446, 449, 458, 472, 488, 508 New Roads High School, 122 Nice, 107

Non-stative verbs. See Verbs, non-stative North Carolina, 100, 100n10, 107n22 North Lake Plantation, 113 Noun complements, 63–64 Noun phrase, 43, 65, 84n73, 87, 116–17, 157, 159–233, 250n34, 273, 292–93, 316, 331, 333, 355, 448nll Noun predicates, 266, 290, 292, 299–301 Nouns, xxxiiin19, 26, 36, 39n13, 41, 52n29, 62–66, 84–85n75, 111, 117, 138, 154–56, 159–83, 186–91n8, 192, 198, 200–01, 205, 214, 216n5, 218, 229, 230–32, 266, 276–77, 290–91, 293, 295n72, 300– 01, 305, 310, 318, 331–34n19, 364, 382, 388, 498 Nova Scotia, xxix, 19, 100, 102. See also Acadians Number (grammatical marking of), xxxiiin19, 116–17, 170–71, 179n33, 186–87, 378–79 Numbers: cardinal, 197–98 ordinal, 205 Nwenmely, Hubisi, 144 Old River, 93 Olinde, Dalton, xvii Olinde, Joseph William, xvii Olinde, Laura, xvii Olinde, Patrick, xvi

Opelousas, xxviiin3, 17n15, 23–24 table 2, 75, 93, 100, 130, 475, 489, 491 O’Reilly, Alejandro, 18 Oscar (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94, 122, 140 table 10, 513 Ouachita/Ouaccitas, 96 Oubre (surname), 6 Ouidah, 6, 48 Overseers: social status of, 8, 55 slaves’ contact with, 11, 15, 102–03 language of, 15, 102–03, 112 slaves as, 16, 27, 55 Palmer, Alek, xvi Palmer, Leola, 120n39, 122–24 Palmié, Stephan, 58 Papen, Robert A.: on Cajun French, xxixn6, 234n1 on the Indian Ocean Creoles, 180–81 table 12, 184–85 table 13, 191 table 14, 213 table 15, 216 table 17, 219 table 18, 250–51, 268–72, 298n78, 306–07 Paris, 99, 109 Paris-Duvernay concession, 5 Parks (town in Louisiana), 310n95

Parkvall, Mikael, 6, 50–51 Parlange Plantation, 107, 140 table 10, 388, 393, 401 Passive, 87–88, 279, 315–17 Patin Dyke, 140 table 10 Patois, 13n9, 110–11, 121n40 Patrick, Peter L., xxxin11 Paul, Skip, xvi Pelican, 198n25 Pellegrin, Roland J., 7–8, 106 table 8, 107, 109–10, 120–21n40 Pennsylvania, 19 Pensacola, xxv–xxvi, 6–7n3, 53n30, 57n34 Périer, Governor, 59n36 Perret, Michael John, 144n8, 151, 236n4, 246, 254n38, 255n39, 295, 297 Phonemes and phonemic analysis, 143, 145, 151 Phonetics, 44, 143, 244, 247n24, 248n28, 463 Phonology, 60, 62n43, 63, 116, 132, 142–53, 168, 250–51 Picardy, 99 Picone, Michael D., xvi, xxviii, xxxn9, 132n57, 154n16, 167 Pidgin languages, 46–48, 50–51, 53, 55, 59–60, 61n40, 73, 91, 168, 169n20

Pierrot (slave), 29, 34–39, 41 Pitre, Glen, 89n83 Plantation economy, xxviii, 9, 18, 24, 48, 56, 68, 91, 97, 102–05, 133 Plantations: and language, xxv, xxxiv, 55, 73, 90–91, 111–15, 208n50, 102–03 slaves on, 11, 14–15, 55–56, 73, 90–91, 102–05 former, in Pointe Coupee Parish, 94 social structure of, 102–03, 109, 119–20 American-owned, in Pointe Coupee Parish, 107 white laborers on, 111–14, 120. See also names of individual plantations; Société de plantation Plantevigne, Reverend Pierre LaForet Albert, 122–23 Plaquemine, 507, 516 Plauche, Anne, xvi Pluton (slave), 31–33, 39, 40n14 Poetry in Louisiana Creole, xxvin2, xxxii, 46, 88 Pointe Coupee Banner, 94, 102, 108n25, 310n96 Pointe Coupee Democrat/Le Démocrate de la Pointe Coupée, 101– 02, 108n25 Pointe Coupee Echo/L’écho de la Pointe Coupée, 108n25 Pointe Coupee Museum Zydeco Festival, xxxii, 130

Pointe Coupee Parish: Creole speakers in, xv, xvii, xxvi, 14n10, 71, 83, 89n84, 108, 133, 137, 140–41 table 10, 223n60, 227n62, 376, 378–79, 381–82, 387–88, 395, 401–02, 425–26, 462–63, 497–98 and other Creole-speaking regions in Louisiana, xxvi, 91–92 use of the ethnic label Creole in, xxviiin3, 141n5 as part of Acediana, xxxn8, 93 Acadian settlement in, xxxiii, 100–02, 110, 133 exploration and early settlement of, 3–4, 7–8, 12, 14 table 1, 16n12, 23–24 table 2, 95-; trials of slaves from, 43–45, 68 early language samples from, 43–44 first reference to Creole language in, 44–45, 68 slave revolts in, 44–45, 59, 103n15, 104–05n21 possible origin of a creole language in, 70 geographical setting of, 93 current population of, 94 economy of, 94–95 development of a plantation economy in, 102–07, 133 introduction of cotton gin to, 103 sugar cane production in, 103 slaves in, 12 table 1, 23–24 table 3, 43–45, 59, 96–98, 102–08 American immigration to, 98–99, 101n10, 107–08

French language in, 100, 102, 107–09, 114–16, 129 multilingualism of, 110, 114 Cajun French in, 110–11, 113–14, 133, 504n21 Italian immigration to, 114 perception of language differences in, 115 education in, 120–27, 133 language attitudes in, 128, 141 Cajun residents of, 128n49, 129, 504n21 Haitian Creole speakers in, 129 cultural and linguistic revival efforts in, 129–30 zydeco music in, 130 English language in, 98–99, 107–08, 130–32 language loss in, 99, 131–32 use of the term Cajun in, 101–02 Pointe Coupee Republican, 108n25 Poitou, 19 Polygenesis, 4 Pons, Cathy R., xvi Pontchartrain, Lake, xxvi, xxxiii Pooser, Charles, 82n71, 181 table 12, 184–85 table 13, 190–91 table 14, 215, 263–65, 298n78, 301, 318n109

Portuguese, 302 Portuguese-based pidgin, 47–48, 51, 61n40 Portuguese-lexifier creole, 48 Possessive constructions, 26n3, 39n13, 43–44, 84–85, 188–90, 214, 305, 361. See also Adjectives, possessive; Determiners, possessive; Pronouns, possessive Possessive particle, 26, 50, 83n72 Pourciau, Melta, xvii Poydras, Julien, 99, 104, 126 Poydras Academy, 126 Poydras College, 126 Poydras High School, 126n46 Poydras School of New Roads, 126n46 Pratz, Le Page du, 27–28, 48–49 Prepositional complements, 289, 291 Prepositional expressions, 286 Prepositional phrases, 326, 342 Prepositional predicates, 288 Prepositions: absence of, 28, 85, 117, 355–56 in possessive constructions, 43, 188–89n41, 190, 215–16 in noun phrase, 117, 463, 498

and division of lexical units, 156 in fixed expressions, 162 with indirect objects, 211, 214n3 in relative clauses, 229–30 introducing verbs, 236n5 in predicates, 288–89, 291 in reflexive constructions, 307n92 introducing an agent, in passive constructions, 316 in interrogative constructions, 330, 333 list of, 356–63 of time, 357–58 of place, direction, situation, 358–61 of manner, attribution, motive, 361–62 of cause, origin, 363 of opposition, separation, exception, 363 of union, conformity, 363 Presentatives, 63n46, 64, 189, 291–95, 301, 303, 309, 325 Preverbal markers: of future tense, 26, 45, 62–63, 89n82, 210, 235n2, 257n45, 258–60, 289, 293n75, 324, 463–64n14 of past tense (anteriority), 62–63, 119, 226, 235, 237, 251, 253–55, 258, 262–63, 273, 275, 277, 289–90, 292, 294, 297, 308–09, 324

of progressive aspect, 26, 50, 62–63, 83n72, 210, 236, 255–59, 263, 299, 395, 463, 506n23 of conditional mood, 26, 62–63, 235n2, 261–62, 273, 277, 293n75 in general, 45, 62, 66, 199, 235, 237, 241–42, 252, 284n68, 289, 302–03, 327 zero marker, 62, 117, 235–36, 252–53 of irrealis, 254–55, 261–62 cross-creole comparison of, 263–73 Prichard, Walter, 101n11 Prohibition, 388–89, 392–93 Pronouns: cross-creole comparison of, 26, 52n29, 67, 84–85, 180, 212–13, 215–17, 219, 271n57, 305–07 personal, 26, 29, 40, 42, 44n18, 46, 52n29, 62, 65–67, 78, 84– 85n75, 86, 117, 119, 155–56, 180, 189–90, 206–16, 232, 238, 256, 260n48, 291–93, 299–300, 304, 306–07, 309–11n98, 376, 379, 463 possessive, 26, 44, 52n29, 65n50, 85, 158, 187, 190, 212–17 clitic, 40 tonic, 40, 46, 212 interrogative, 63, 227, 229, 295, 330–33 resumptive, 66, 232 relative, 78, 208, 217, 225–33, 271n57, 395 demonstrative, 158, 183, 217–19 table 18

disjunctive, 212, 291 reflexive, 212, 304–07 indefinite, 218–25, 290, 309, 315, 332 reciprocal, 305 Prototypical creole features, 176, 178, 235 Provence, 100 Proverbs in Louisiana Creole, 88–89 Pulaar: ethnic group, 21, 97 language, 57 Punctual verbs, 235, 252–53. See also Verbs, non-stative Quebec, 100, 110 Quebecois, 110 Raccourci, 481–82, 489, 492–93 Raguet (slave owner), 28–32, 37–39 Read, William A., 143n7 Re-Africanization. See Africanization Rebellion against Governor Alejandro O’Reilly, 18 Recensement des villages allemands près de la Nouvelle Orléans, 5 Reconstruction, 125 Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, 28 Red River, 3–4

Reduplication, 269, 351 Reflexive verbs, 243n10, 304–07 Relative clauses, 71, 77–79, 157, 172, 179n33, 217, 225, 228–32, 303 Relative pronouns. See Pronouns, relative Religion. See Catholics and Catholicism, Baptists and Baptist Church Republicans, 223, 347, 421–23 Reunion (Island), 56n33, 110n27 Reunion Creole, 77, 160n2, 169 table 11, 179–81, 184–85, 190–91, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 215, 216 table 17, 250–51, 270–73n60, 300, 303, 306 Revolts. See Slave revolts Revolutions. See Haitian Revolution; Saint-Domingue, revolution Revue Louisianaise, 46 Ricard, Bernie, xvii Ricard, Ulysses S., Jr., xxxiin16, xxxivn21, 25n2, 44–45, 59, 89n83, 91, 104 Rickford, John R., xxxin11, 251 River Bend Plantation, 113 Roberts, Peter A., 312n101 Robin, C. C, 14, 45–46, 91, 104, 112

Rodney, Alfred, xvi Rodney, Father Conway, Jr., xvii Rodrigues Creole, 169nll, 250, 268, 306 Rodriguez, Antonio Acosta, 17, 24 table 2, 69n57, 72 table 3, 106 table 8 Rosenberg, Samuel N., xvi Rosenwald Elementary School, 123n42, 458 Rosenwald Fund, 123n42 Rottet, Kevin J., xxixn6, 132n57, 234n1 Rougon (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94, 377–78, 484–85, 489, 510 Rougon, Beth Jewell, xvi Roussève, Charles Barthélémy, 16n15 Rowland, Dunbar, 9 Sabine River, 18n18 Sabine River Spanish, 18n18 Saint-Barthélémy, 110n27, 271n57 Saint-Christophe, 50–51 Saint-Domingue, refugees from, xvi, 22n25, 23, 25, 26n3, 45–46, 68, 71, 79–83, 85, 91 slaves from (See slaves, from Saint-Domingue)

musical tradition imported to Louisiana from, 14 Acadians exiled to, 19 revolution in, 22, 79, 104 (See also Haitian Revolution) in diffusionist scenario of creole development, 51 disproportion of slaves and whites in, 105n19. See also Haitian Creole Saint-Georges de l’Oyapock, creole variety of, 268 Saint Jacques Fauquenoy, Marguerite. See Fauquenoy, Marguerite Saint Louis (fort in Senegambia), 50 Saison, Maurice, xvii Samba (slave), 27, 28 Sanders, Albert Godfrey, 9 San Luis de Natchez, 100 Saramaccan, 61 Savoie, 100 Schexnayder (surname), 19 Schlupp, Daniel, 257n44, 267–68, 298n78, 300–02, 311n99 School. See Education Sea Islands, 99n7 Second-generation creole, 49n25 Second language acquisition, 23, 54–56n33, 63, 91, 111–12, 114

Segregation, 402–03, 414, 469, 485–86 Segu, kingdom of, 57 Senegal, 48, 57–58, 61n40 Senegalese concession, 6–7 Senegambia, 7, 21, 50–51, 56–58, 97–87 table 7 Sereer, 57 Serial verbs, 27, 67, 86, 311–13 Seychelles Creole, 57, 168–69 table 11, 179–81, 184–85, 191, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 215–16, 250–51, 270, 306, 319n111 Sharecroppers and sharecropper farming, 112–13, 119–20, 188, 432, 450, 499, 509 Sicard, Winona, xvii Sierre Leone, 6 Sitterson, J. Carlyle, 103n16 Slaveholders, 11, 72, 97–98, 107 Slaveholdings, 11, 15, 72, 91, 97 Slave revolts, 9, 21–22, 25n1, 27–28, 44–45, 59, 79–80, 103n15, 104, 105n21 Slavery, 20, 74, 112, 120, 132, 174, 178, 228, 284, 287, 321, 349, 368, 382, 384–85, 387, 432, 450, 484, 499 Slaves: from Saint-Domingue, xvi, 21–23, 43n17, 68n54, 70, 73–74, 79–82, 83n71, 89, 91, 105

in development of Louisiana Creole, 6, 25n1, 27–46, 48, 50–53, 55– 73, 98, 102–03, 105, 111–12 first recorded in Louisiana, 6 origins of (see Africans, origins of); work skills of, 7, 11, 56 social status of, 8, 16, 55 in contact with other groups, 8, 11, 13, 15, 54, 56, 91, 100, 102–03, 112 trade activities of, 9, 13 efforts to control, 9, 13–15 on small farms, 9, 13, 15, 54–56, 72, 91, 97, 102 on large plantations, 10–11, 15, 55–56, 69, 73, 91, 97–99, 102–05, 107 in proportion to free persons, 10–13, 23–24, 54, 69n56, 72–73, 90, 103–06 mobility of, 13–14, 54, 56, 91 gatherings of, 14–15 marriage of, 14 sexual relationships with masters, 15–16 manumission of, 16 owned by free people of color, 16 population growth of, 16–17, 20, 69, 73, 97, 102–06

African, 20–21, 24, 28–29, 40, 42, 48, 53–55, 57, 60, 70, 73–75, 95, 97–98, 102, 112 English-speaking, 20–21, 74–75, 98–100, 107–08, 125 Caribbean, 21–22, 52–53, 73, 74 table 4, 97, 105 Creole, 21, 24, 28–29, 32, 40, 42, 55, 74–75, 97, 103 smuggling of, 22 geographic distribution of, 23–24, 72, 74–76, 79–82, 89–90, 104, 106 early speech samples of, 27–46, 48, 85 ethnic conflict among, 37–38, 59n36 communication among, 54, 59–60, 67, 71, 73, 90, 99, 103, 108, 208 socialization of, 55 ethnic and linguistic homogeneity of, 56–59, 91–92, 103n15 mortality rates of, 57 restrictions on importation of, 21, 53n31, 67–68n54, 80, 108 ages of, 75–76, 97 first in Pointe Coupee, 96 mulatto, 97 former, 109, 113, 125 descendants of, 122, 125 in oral history, 178, 208n49, 262, 382, 385, 484

in literature, 208. See also Indians, as slaves Slave trade, 6–7, 17, 20, 50, 51, 57–58, 61, 67, 108, 208n49 Slave trade jargon, 48, 50 Smith, "Praying Sonny," 122–23 Smith, T. Lynn, 101n11 Socialization of slaves, 55 Société de plantation, 54–56n33, 68, 91, 111 Société d’habitation, 54, 56n33, 91 South Carolina, 98, 99n7, 100 Southern Tribune, 108n35 Spain: transfer of Louisiana to, 7, 17–18, 23 acquisition of West Florida, 19–20 Spanish language, 18, 44–45 Spanish period: slavery, 16n13, 17, 20–24, 69, 73, 74 table 4, 75– 76, 97–98 table 7, 105 economic development, 17–24 restrictions on importation of slaves, 21–22, 53n31, 67n54 slave revolts, 44–45, 59 development of Louisiana Creole, 68, 75 Spears, Arthur, 257n44, 264–65

Speedy, Karin Elizabeth, xxixn5, 13n9, 70–71, 73, 75, 77–79, 228n62 Sranan, 67 Stäbler, Cynthia K., xxixn6 Stative predicates, 303n83 Stative verbs. See Verbs, stative St. Augustine Catholic Church, 381 St. Augustine Elementary School, 124n43 St. Barth. See Saint-Barthélemy St. Bernard Parish, 18 St. Charles Parish, xxxn8, 104 Stephenson, Élie, 301–02 Sterkx, H. E., 16 Stewart, William A., 47 St. Francisville, 95 St. Genevieve post, 17 Stigmatization of language, xxvii, 128, 130–31 St. James Parish, xxv, xxxn8 St. John the Baptist Parish, xxv, 5 St. Kitts, 50–51 St. Landry Parish, xxvi–xxvii, xxxn8, 71n59, 74 table 4, 75, 81n69

St. Louis (New Caledonia), 303 St. Louis post, 17 St. Lucian Creole, 144, 169n11, 180, 184, 213n15, 215, 268, 301, 305, 306n92 St. Martin Parish, xxvi, xxxn8, xxxiii, 25n1, 71n59, 72 table 3n1, 74 table 4, 79, 81–82, 100, 112, 133, 164 St. Martinville, 70, 79, 82 St. Martinville, Creole of, 162 St. Mary Catholic Church, 419 St. Mary Parish, xxxn8, 72 table 3n1 St. Reyne concession, 95, 99 St. Tammany Parish, xxvi, xxxiii, 82n71, 84, 92, 146nll, 151n13, 260, 335 St. Thomas, 271n57 Substratal influence, 62–67 Substrate languages, 63 Sugar cane, 18, 86, 94, 103, 120, 166–67, 182, 205, 209, 211, 217– 18, 247n22, 253–54, 275, 280, 284, 287, 294, 297, 310, 312, 315– 16, 318, 326–27, 334–36, 338, 340, 343, 348, 356, 358–58, 360–61, 369, 376–77, 461, 471, 488 Superstratal influence, 65 Suriname creoles, 89n41 Switzerland, 5, 100

Talon, Robert, 6n2 Taylor, Douglas R., 47, 298n78, 305–06n92, 307 Taylor, Joe Gray., 4, 6, 18–19, 68n54 Tayo, 77, 157, 169 table 11, 180–81 table 12, 184–85, 190–91, 213 table 15, 214 table 16, 215–17, 219 table 18, 251, 272–73n60, 298n78, 303–06, 318n109, 319n111 Tchang, Laurent, 300 Teche, Bayou. See Bayou Teche Teche Creole, 70–71, 77–79, 82–84, 86–90, 92, 158, 234–35 Tense: preverbal markers of, 26, 45, 62, 89n82, 119, 158, 234–36, 251–55, 258–62, 264–73, 290, 296, 302–03, 308–09, 324, 327, 463–64n14 mentioned, 40, 45 past, 42, 62, 117, 119, 235, 251–54, 258, 260–73, 283, 290, 296, 303–04, 308–09, 317, 327, 379 system of, 62–63, 252, 263, 267 inflectional marking of, 234n1, 275, 463 present, xxxiiin19, 40, 62, 88, 117–18, 235–37, 239, 243, 251–52, 256n41, 257–58, 261, 263–64, 266, 268–69, 271–73n60, 290, 302– 03, 321–22, 327, 463 pluperfect, 235, 253, 269, 272 expression of, 251, 270, 272 problems in analyzing, 251–52

future, 26, 45, 62–63, 89n82, 235n2, 257–61, 264–73, 275, 277–78, 303, 324, 463–64n14 imperfect, 63, 251, 260, 266–68, 275–77 Tentchoff, Dorice, 131n56 Terrebonne Parish, xxxn8, 234n1 Texas, xxvi, xxix, 18n18 Thibodaux (town in Louisiana), xxixn6 Thibodeaux (surname), 19 Thompson, R. W., 47 Thwaites, Reuben Gold, 10 Tobler, Joy S., 298n78, 306, 318n109 Toups (surname), 6 Tourism and tourists, xxxin12, 95, 128–29 Translation task, 138, 211, 232, 240n6, 245n17, 259, 314, 319, 402, 404, 415, 463, 478, 495–97 Treaty of Fountainebleau, 17 Treaty of Paris, 17, 19 Tregle (surname), 6 Trépanier, Cécyle, xxixn7, xxxn10, 25n1, 93n1 Triche (surname), 6 Trinidad Creole, 169 table 11, 301, 305–06n92

Trudeau (slave owner), 10–11 Trudgill, Peter, 114n31 Tulane University, xv Tunica, 4, 96 Ulloa, Don Antonio de, 17–18, 100 Uncle Remus, 111 United States: cultural Africanization of, 61 slaves imported to Louisiana from, 67, 108 slave trade to, 67–68. See also Louisiana Purchase; American period; Americanization; Americans University of Southwestern Louisiana, xxxi Usea (surname), 19 Usner, Daniel H., 5, 8–10, 12 table 1n4, 17–20, 23, 38n12 Vacherie (town in Louisiana), 92, 110 Valdman, Albert: thanked, xv on creole origins and development, 25n2, 50–52, 65 on African influence, 62n42, 62n44, 65 description of French-lexifier creoles, 178, 180–82n36, 184–85, 189, 191, 213 table 15, 273n61, 293, 310, 311n99, 316 on Haitian Creole, 52, 67n52, 82n71, 83, 87, 144, 173, 180–81, 184– 85 table 13, 189–91 table 14, 213 table 15, 214 table 15, 215, 219 table 18, 235n2, 257n42, 263–65, 298n78, 301, 317n107, 318n109

on diglossia in Louisiana, 112n30, 208 on codeswitching, 132n57 on Louisiana Creole, 25n2, 52, 62n44, 65, 137, 144, 154, 167 Valenzuela, 18 Vaudreuil, Pierre, 13–15n11 Ventress (slave owner), 107 Ventress (town in Pointe Coupee Parish), 94, 140–41 table 10, 376, 425, 446, 504, 514 Verbalizer, 168 Verb morphology, 62, 118–19, 138, 234–51, 498 Verb phrase, 26, 62, 117–19, 234–372 Verb system, xxxiiinn 19–20, 62, 117–19, 234, 236 Verbs: two-stem, xxxiiinn19–20, 88–89, 117, 235–46, 248n29, 249– 51, 313, 320–22, 324–25n114, 327, 463 serial, 27, 67, 86, 311–13 single-stem, 40, 45, 88–89, 235–36, 247–51, 313, 321–22 auxiliary, 42, 45, 63, 257n43, 265, 270–71, 273–87, 297, 311, 317n107, 376, 379, 463 unmarked, 42, 235–37, 251n36, 252, 256–57n43, 259–60, 263–64, 266, 269, 271, 327 copulative, 62–64, 66, 119, 158, 189, 252, 270–71, 280–81, 283, 288–93, 295–304, 331

nonstative (action, punctual), 62, 235, 252–53, 266, 268–69, 299 stative, 62, 235, 252–53, 256, 263–64, 266, 269, 271, 299, 313 in cleft structures, 64 modal, 118, 296, 302 morphologically complex, 138 derived from nouns, 167 variation in, 234 French, 235, 243, 246, 248 having multiple forms, 242–47, 249–51 reflexive, 243n10, 304–07 borrowed from English, 249 cross-creole comparisons of, 249–51, 263–73, 299–307 transitive, 284–86, 288, 313 intransitive, 286, 288, 304 causative, 287–88 existential, 307–09 impersonal, 307–11 in the imperative, 313–15 in passive constructions, 316–17 in negative constructions, 320–27

mentioned, 27n6, 28, 30, 35, 40–41, 43–45, 62–64, 66, 83n72, 87– 88, 147, 150, 184, 197n43, 229, 252, 271n57, 274n63, 289, 292, 353, 355, 376, 382, 463. See also Stative predicates Vermilion Parish, xxxn8, 72 table 3n1 Vernacular French, 41, 54, 65, 77, 158 Viator, Étienne, xxxn20 Victorain, John Forrets, xvii Vietnam, French pidgin of, 169n20 Virginia, 98, 100–01n10 Voyageurs, 95 Wakes, 186, 424–26, 450 Walloon, 99n8 Watts, David, 105n19 West Baton Rouge Parish, xxxn8 West Feliciana Parish, 95 West Florida. See Florida West Indies, 14n10 Whinnom, Keith, 47 Whites: English among, xxv, 108, 121–22, 126 Creole language among, xxv, xxvii–xxviiin4, 45, 68, 105n21, 108, 110–19, 126, 138n2, 139, 141, 150, 171–72n23, 183, 209–10, 218, 227n62, 236n5, 310n97, 333, 376, 378, 381, 497–98, 511, 513 Cajun ethnicity among, xxviin3, 101, 128n48, 129–30

Cajun French among, xxviii, 110 identified as Creoles, xxviii continued links to France, xxviii Creole language among, xxxiiin18 in colonial Louisiana, 6n2, 13–14, 94, 96–97, 102–05 in contact with other groups, 8–9, 13–15, 55, 112–15, 139 in proportion to blacks, 13, 90, 94, 96–97, 103–06 table 8 perceived threats to, from slaves, 14, 104, 108n24 relations with blacks, 8–9, 13–15, 55, 71, 90–91, 112–15, 120, 122, 124, 177, 208, 211, 228, 255n40, 274, 276, 289, 324, 334, 370–71, 377, 419, 448, 450–51, 497, 511–12 lower-class, 15, 91, 111–15, 120, 139, 512 French language among, 15, 101, 110–11, 114, 116, 139, 240 and miscegenation, 15–16, 174, 202, 297, 309, 329, 363, 368, 414, 419, 467n16, 489 refugees from Saint-Domingue, 22–23, 79–81 in New Orleans, 23 in proportion to Indians, 23 in the Attakapas district, 71–72 mulattoes counted as, 97n5 role of, in development of Louisiana Creole, 111–12, 114, 139

non-francophone, 112n29, 113–14 awareness of linguistic differences, 115 French-Creole bilingualism among, 111–12n30, 115–16 sharecropper farming among, 120n38 education among, 120–27 table 9, 420–21, 494, 510 and segregation, 124, 126, 218, 274, 345, 358, 361, 414, 419–20, 486, 494, 510 and the cultural and linguistic revival movement, 129–30 consulted for this study, 138–41 table 10, 183, 218, 375–76, 378, 388, 497 identified as Creoles, 141n5 and the Catholic Church, 419, 486 and slavery, 420–21 and politics, 422 and insurance, 460 marrying Creoles of color, 482, 494 Creoles of color living as, 483–84 relations with Creoles of color, 490, 494 Whitney, Eli, 103 Whydah, 6, 48 Wiley, N., 125

Williamson, Joe, 16–17n15 Winford, Donald, xxxin11 Wogan, Marguerite B., 82n71, 86 Wolof: ethnic group, 21, 97 language, 57, 89n83 Woods, Sr. Frances, 16n15 World War II, 94, 128, 138n3, 388 Yazoo, 96 Yoruba: ethnic group, 21, 97 language, 59, 62n44, 63–64 Zion Travelers’ Baptist Church, 122n41 Zitomersky, Joseph, 5 Zweig (surname), 6 Zydeco music, xxxii, 130, 474–75, 491–92 1 . By referring to persons of mixed race, whom I also call Creoles of color, I do not mean to imply that blacks and whites are, in contrast, of "pure" racial background. Rather, I use all three terms simply to refer to social groups that have traditionally been recognized as distinct in Louisiana. While there are visibly discernible physical features that are typically associated with each group, I take race to be a social construct rather than an objectively definable set of categories grounded in genetic traits. 2 . While Creole is no longer a vital language to the north of the Bayou Teche region and to the east of Lake Pontchartrain, a few

very elderly speakers remain in some geographically marginal locations. In the Cane River Valley I was able to locate two Creole speakers, one of whom was aged 102 at the time of the interview and is now deceased, and I have also interviewed one speaker from Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, who currently lives in New Orleans. In the late 1980s Marshall (1991) located and interviewed the last two remaining Creole speakers, since deceased, in Mon Louis Island, Alabama, near Mobile. I was once told of Creole speakers in Pensacola, but I have no firm evidence of their existence. The city of Lake Charles, located near the Texas border in Calcasieu Parish, is also reputed to be a Creole-speaking area (see for example Neumann 1985a, 21, 488), though my own attempts to locate speakers there have been unsuccessful. This reputation may be based in part on the polysemy of the word Creole. All of the francophones of color I met there used this word to refer both to themselves and to their speech, though the latter was in fact structurally much closer to what, for the purposes of this study, will be called Cajun than to the Creole spoken elsewhere in Louisiana (see below). Nevertheless, there is evidence that Creole (as defined by linguistic criteria) is spoken in Lake Charles. Deborah Clifton Hills, a poet who writes in Creole, is from Lake Charles and learned the language growing up in the area. She suggests that Creole remains hidden to outsiders because it is a language closely associated with the home and the local community and is not typically spoken outside of these circles (personal communication). 3. The term Cajun is used almost exclusively in reference to persons who are socially classified as white; it is very rare for persons of color to identify themselves by the label. (See Chapter 2 for a discussion of the semantic extension of the term during the nineteenth century to refer to francophones of non-Acadian origin.) The use of the term Creole as an ethnic designation is even more complex and varies by region as well as by time period. For a study of the term’s semantic evolution in New Orleans, see Dominguez (1986). For a recent look at Creoles in southwestern Louisiana, see the excellent work of Brasseaux et al. (1994). Melançon (2000) and

Dubois and Melançon (2000) present research on contemporary Creole identity in Opelousas and Breaux Bridge. Chapter 2 of the present work includes a discussion of how the ethnic label "Creole" is used in Pointe Coupee. 4 . It is possible that many of the 607 whites who identified themselves as speakers of Creole on the 1990 census (Dubois 1998, 335 n. 1; Dubois and Melançon 2000, 246) were using the term in the latter sense and not to refer to Louisiana Creole. 5 . Speedy also comments on the inappropriateness of the term "Colonial French" as it is commonly used, noting that the very standard-like French of many nineteenth-century immigrants "was almost certainly not the same language as that which was spoken by the first settlers in the Colonial French period (1699–1718), nor was it the language of the lower class, and probably illiterate, descendants of many of these same settlers" (1994, 46–47). 6 . For grammatical descriptions of Cajun, see Guilbeau (1950), Conwell and Juilland (1963), Stäbler (1995a), and Papen and Rottet (1997). Stäbler (1995b) provides an extensive corpus of transcribed conversations in Cajun. For variationist studies of specific grammatical features of the language, see Brown (1988), Byers (1988), and Rottet (1996, 2001). Dubois (1997, 1998) and Dubois and Melançon (1997) examine the evolving definition of Cajun identity and describe a large-scale sociolinguistic study of Cajun language use and attitudes in four urban centers: Thibodaux, Marksville, Eunice, and Abbeville. 7 . See Trépanier (1988, 3–7, 58ff.), who provides a useful review of previous attempts to define "French" Louisiana geographically and offers her own nuanced definition based on cultural features. 8 . While the resolution adopted by the legislature specifies twentytwo parishes by name, its wording makes clear that the list is expandable: "Therefore, be it resolved… that the Legislature of Louisiana designate the cultural region known as the Heart of Acadiana within the state of Louisiana consisting of, but not

exclusively, the following parishes: Acadia, Avoyelles, Ascension, Assumption, Calcasieu, Cameron, Evangeline, Iberia, Iberville, Jefferson Davis, Lafayette, Lafourche, Pointe Coupee, St. Charles, St. James, St. John, St. Landry, St. Martin, St. Mary, Terrebonne, Vermilion, West Baton Rouge, and other parishes of similar cultural environment." 9 . Estimates range from 1,000,000 to as low as 100,000 speakers. See Neumann (1985a, 19) for a summary of estimates made before the publication of her book in 1985. Figures from the 1990 census show that 27,613 persons claimed to speak Cajun French, among whom were 1,167 blacks (Dubois and Melançon 2000, 246). However, the same caveat applies to interpreting these figures as to interpreting the figures for "Creole" speakers: Most speakers of Cajun probably simply identified their language as "French," and it is safe to assume that the vast majority of the 261,678 speakers of "French or French Creole" listed in Census Bureau statistics were in fact speakers of Cajun. For recent discussions of the problem of defining the Cajun-speaking community, see Blyth (1997), Dubois and Melançon (1997), and Picone (1997). 10 . For more detailed accounts of the French revival movement and the debate over Cajun versus Standard French, see Ancelet (1988), Henry (1993, 1997), and Trépanier (1988, 284–91). 11. In the continuum model, the European lexifier language is referred to as the acrolect, while the variety of creole that is furthest removed from it structurally is called the basilect, and the intermediate varieties situated between these opposite poles collectively make up the mesolect. Here I consider Standard French to be the acrolect and the type of Creole that is most distant from it to be the basilect. Cajun, as well as any speech that falls between the acrolectal and basilectal poles, constitutes the mesolect. The continuum model offers a convenient means of representing francophone Louisiana’s current linguistic situation, in which it is often difficult to draw a clear distinction between the three traditionally recognized, French-related varieties, but especially

between Cajun and Creole. The boundaries appear blurred because many speakers use certain forms typically associated only with Cajun but other forms typically associated only with Creole (as found in the existing descriptions of these varieties). The analysis of Louisiana’s linguistic situation in terms of a continuum is complicated by the presence of English, which plays a much more important role than Standard French. For a discussion of this and other problems related to the application of the continuum model to Louisiana, see Neumann (1985a, 44–51), Marshall (1987), and Brown (1996). For broader theoretical discussions of the continuum model and recent studies applying it to non-francophone situations, see, among others, DeCamp (1971), Bickerton (1975), Rickford (1987), Escure (1997), Winford (1997), and Patrick (1999). 12 . See Klingler (1994) for a study of the influence of tourism on the French spoken in Louisiana. 13 . On the surface, the figure of 25 percent French speakers among the population under nineteen appears to bode well for the future of French in Louisiana. A closer look, however, reveals that only 7.9 percent of those under nineteen claimed to speak the language fluently. 14 . For a recent study of the revalorization of Cajun language and identity, see Dubois and Melançon (1997). 15 . It bears keeping in mind, of course, that similarly pessimistic prognoses have long been made about the maintenance of French in any form in Louisiana. Jarreau (1931, vi) predicted that Creole, "theoretically speaking, will no longer exist anywhere in Louisiana in about fifty years from now." More than seventy years later, while Creole can hardly be said to be robust, Jarreau’s prediction remains far from having come true. I would be delighted if my own prediction about the disappearance of Creole proved to be just as premature. 16 . For Creole writings, see, for example, Kein (1981, 1999), Guidry (1982), the poems by Clifton in Ancelet et al. (1980) and Clifton (1999), and Ricard’s writings published in Chaudenson (1981).

17 . For recent studies of Creole identity and its link to language use, see Melançon (2000) and Dubois and Melançon (2000). 18 . Neumann (1984) studied the Creole of white speakers in St. Martin Parish and concluded that it was probably never as basilectal as the Creole of blacks. She attributes its more French-like features to incomplete creolization rather than to recent decreolization. In Chapter 2, I present a somewhat different view of the relationship between the Creole spoken by blacks and that spoken by whites. 19. Such features include a more systematic use of the postposed definite determiners -la (sg.) and -ye (pl.) with nouns; a lesser tendency to express number and gender in the determiner system; and the incomplete adoption of a two-stem verb system in which there is a class of verbs having a short form used in the habitual present and the imperative and a long form used in other contexts (see 3.5 and the relevant sections in Chapter 6 for further discussion). 20 . Perhaps most significant among these is the verb system, which shows even less of a tendency toward the use of two-stem verbs than the Creole of Pointe Coupee and thus more closely resembles the Creole of nineteenth-century texts in which a single (long) verb form appears in all grammatical contexts. (This observation is based on data from my own research in St. Tammany Parish and from that of Étienne Viator [personal communication]). See 6.1 for details. 21 . The only previous study of the grammar of Pointe Coupee Creole is a short manuscript by the late Ulysses S. Ricard, Jr. (Ricard n.d.), which is currently being readied for posthumous publication. Two master’s theses written in the 1930s contain lengthy transcriptions of Creole discourse from Pointe Coupee, but neither examines grammatical structure (Lavergne 1930; Jarreau 1931). 22 . Neumann’s study of the Creole of Breaux Bridge (Neumann 1985a), as well as the recent linguistic studies that have served as my sources of information for the other French-lexifier creoles of the world, uses a great variety of notational conventions. To render

things less confusing for the reader, I have converted the examples quoted from these sources into the notational system that I use to represent the Creole of Pointe Coupee, which is explained in 4.4. Since the system I use is nearly identical to the ones used in the recent sources I consulted for the Creoles of Haiti, Martinique, and Guadeloupe, I have left the examples from these sources exactly as they appear in the original. Two other types of examples I have not modified are those that come from historical texts (which for purposes of this study I define as those written before 1930) and those that are written in the characters of the International Phonetic Alphabet. Even when I have converted the notation of creole sounds, I have retained the division of words and the use of hyphens and apostrophes found in the original. 1 . This is not the only trace these settlers left on the local toponymy. To the southeast of the German Coast, the town of Des Allemands lies on Bayou Des Allemands, which flows between Lac Des Allemands and Lake Salvador. 2 . The first white child whom the record clearly shows to have been born in Louisiana was Jean François LeCan, born in Mobile on October 4, 1704. There is a strong possibility, however, that the "first Creole of the colony" was in fact one Robert Talon (Gould 1996, 36– 37). 3. These figures on Juda do not include 451 slaves that arrived on the first two slave ships from Africa in 1719, l’Aurore and le Duc du Maine, whose "cargo" had been embarked at Juda. Before they could be disembarked in Louisiana, the slaves from these ships were diverted to Pensacola to help bolster defenses against an anticipated attack by the Spanish. Since the Spanish in fact took possession of Pensacola shortly thereafter, Hall (1997) suspects that "few if any of these slaves ever touched the soil of Louisiana." 4 . See also Chaudenson (1989, 27), who notes the sharp contrast in early colonial society between the vast inequalities in status that divided social groups, especially masters and slaves, and material

conditions, which were nearly identical for all inhabitants and made them dependent on each other. 5 . For a thorough and fascinating account of the exchange economy in colonial Louisiana, see Usner (1992), from which I have drawn most of my information on the subject. 6 . It bears pointing out that the slaves on the Kolly estate were actually in the minority, there being 79 Europeans when women and children are included. In contrast, the La freniere estate counted only 6 Europeans, the De Lery estate 5, the Dubreuil estate 4, and the Beaulieu estate just 1. 7 . Although some maps show Chapitoulas on the west bank of the Mississippi (see, for example, Hall 1992a, 17, and Deiler [1909] 1969, 49), the censuses of 1721 and 1731 list it on the east bank. 8 . Moody (1924, 244) and Hall (1992a, 133ff.) examine the great variety of tasks, many of them highly specialized, carried out by slaves in Louisiana. In addition to those occupations mentioned here, Hall notes that slaves served as locksmiths, shipbuilders, sailors, surgeons, and nurses. 9. Speedy (1994, 31–32, 45–61) examines the origins of the colonists and the various dialectal influences on what may have been an "emergent ‘Louisiana French’" (58). She makes a convincing case for the predominant influence of French (as opposed to patois as defined by Barbaud 1984) in the formation of this variety, thanks primarily to the presence of large numbers of Canadians and settlers from Ile-de-France and surrounding provinces, all of whom would have been francisants rather than patoisants. She is careful to note, however, that the emerging variety must have been highly variable (58). Dozens of the features of early nineteenth-century Popular French noted in Gougenheim (1929) are found in Louisiana Creole today, which may well be an indication of the contribution of this sociolect to the formation of the Creole language in Louisiana.

10. For a description of these ceremonies in Saint-Domingue, see Debien (1972). For a discussion of the significance of the bal tambour and other slave gatherings in the formation of a distinct language and culture in the West Indies, see Fleischmann (1984). Such dances were held regularly in New Orleans’ Congo Square during the nineteenth century, though they are not referred to as bals tambours in historical accounts (see Cable 1886). One Creole speaker in Pointe Coupee recalled having observed bals tambours in his early childhood (he was born in 1903) but only surreptitiously, as children were not allowed to attend. 11 . According to McGowan (1976, 145–46), "Government efforts after 1751 to regain control of slaves and lower-class whites testify to the high degree of slave autonomy to participate in both the legitimate market as purveyors of their garden produce and labor services and in the black market in association with whites." He explains one of the motivations of the police code of 1750 as follows: "Vaudreuil charged that the planters’ lax administration had encouraged a ‘scandalous life’ among the slaves through association with lower-class whites and free Negroes in rural areas and particularly in New Orleans.… The first ten articles of the code were directed not against the slaves, but against the lower-class whites and free Negroes who made a living off the slaves’ demand for liquor. Less demanding than the drudgery of farming and more secure than living in isolated settlements harassed by Indians, the capital offered white farmers the opportunity to exploit the slave market for tafia rum in return for both legitimate and ill-gained earnings." 12 . As Hall (1992a, 240) points out, however, a shortage of eligible white women cannot fully explain the high number of mixed couples: "At the Pointe Coupee post, free women of marriageable age who were counted as white often substantially outnumbered men. Nevertheless, white men who were well off economically and had the means to marry white women often preferred dark women, sometimes their own slaves."

13 . In later years the purchase of freedom for slaves became an increasingly common practice. For a look at the different ways in which New Orleans slaves obtained their freedom during the Spanish regime, see Hanger (1996). 14 . For a recent treatment of "passing for white" in contemporary New Orleans, see Anthony (1995). 15. The gens de couleur libres and their descendants have received considerable attention from historians, especially in recent years. See for example Roussève (1937), Sterkx (1972), Mills (1977), Woods (1989), Gould (1991), Brasseaux et al. (1994), Gehman (1994), Williamson (1995), Dormon (1996), Bell (1997), Hanger (1996, 1997), and Kein (2000). See also Melançon (2000) and Dubois and Melançon (2000) for a study of changing identity and attitudes among Creoles in Opelousas and Breaux Bridge. 16 . There were likely several hundred more blacks living in the settlements along the Gulf coast, on the Mississippi above Pointe Coupee, and in Natchitoches in 1732. If this is so, the net population of blacks did not increase at all between 1732 and 1741. 17 . According to Taylor ([1976] 1984, 26), New Iberia was settled not by Canary Islanders but by immigrants from Malaga. 18 . See, for example, Din (1988, xi), who writes of the Canary Islanders’ "limited influence" on the rest of Louisiana and points out that "the more numerous Americans and Acadians have influenced the Canary Islanders far more than they, in turn, have been influenced." Likewise, Lipski (1990, 2) stresses the geographic isolation and social marginalization of the Isleños and notes that people of Spanish descent who did not remain in isolated regions were for the most part "absorbed into the mainstream culture, losing their ancestral language and their cultural practices." For recent linguistic studies of the Spanish of the Isleños, see, in addition to Lipski (1990), Coles (1991), Holloway (1997), and Lipski (1984, 1987b). Sabine River Spanish, spoken along the Sabine River in

northwestern Louisiana and northeastern Texas, is the subject of Lipski (1987a) and the Appendix to Lipski (1990). 19 . The figures are those of Brasseaux (1987, 91). I have drawn all of my information on the Acadians from this source and from Brasseaux (1992), which provide the most thorough and scholarly treatments of the subject to date. 20 . Relations between the Acadians and the Spanish government were not without wrinkles, however. The Spanish hoped to settle many Acadians at frontier outposts to serve as buffers against hostile Indians. Determined to join family members already settled elsewhere in the colony, the Acadians stubbornly resisted these plans. (See, for example, 3.2.) 21 . The "Louisiana Slave Database, 1719–1820" contains data from all relevant documents on slavery in Louisiana between these dates, including estate inventories made after a master’s death, records of slave sales, testimony taken from slaves in court, marriage contracts, wills, and other types of documents. The database comprises 100,364 records and 114 fields (Hall 2000a). Gwendolyn Hall generously carried out the necessary calculations and provided me with all of the data that I cite here from the Louisiana Slave Database before it became available to the public. 22 . This figure does not represent 26,364 different individuals, since the same slave may sometimes be inventoried in more than one document. Duplicate counts were eliminated whenever possible, but many instances of duplication necessarily went undetected (Gwendolyn Hall, personal communication). 23 . Slaves identified as Guinea number 771 in Spanish-period documents. Historians have typically considered this to be a generic designation, but Hall (personal communication) now believes that slaves so identified actually came from Senegambia. If this is correct, the total number of Senegambian designations rises to 2,470, or 31 percent of slaves identified as African.

24 . For an account of the pirate Jean Lafitte’s role in smuggling slaves into Louisiana in the early nineteenth century, see the historical novel by Calvet (1998). 25 . According to Debien and Le Gardeur, "About a hundred refugees appear to have arrived from Saint-Domingue between 1791 and 1797 and twice this number between 1797 and 1802. We can estimate at more than a thousand those who were able to enter between 1803 and 1804, but we cannot even have an idea of [the number of] those who were able to reach France" (1981, 132, my translation). 1 . See, for example, Maguire (1979a, 2), Trépanier (1988, 134), and Brasseaux and Conrad (1992b, xi). As Maguire puts it, "One easily speculates that part of the impact [of the Saint-Domingue refugees] was the introduction of the Creole language to Louisiana." Similarly, Brasseaux and Conrad, while acknowledging that the origin of Creole remains obscure, nevertheless suggest that the presence of a Creole-speaking population in St. Martin and Assumption Parishes may be evidence that "French Antillian-born, Creole-speaking slaves" were brought there after the Haitian Revolution. 2 . The question of the origin of Louisiana Creole has been addressed in some detail by Neumann (1985b), Marshall (1989), and Valdman (1992; 1993; 1996b); it is also discussed in Ricard (1991, 87). 3. In fact, however, possessive structures of the form Noun + a + Pronoun are not entirely unattested in early forms of Louisiana Creole, though they are certainly uncommon. As Neumann (1985b, 107–108 n. 37) herself notes, they appear in Bossu (1777, 83, 374), and Mercier (1880, 381) and Fortier (1884–1885, 102) both mention them (Mercier attributes them to the immigrants from SaintDomingue, and Fortier says they are "very rare"). This structure is considered again in 2.4. 4 . Neumann admits the possibility that this could be due to recent decreolization and thus may not have characterized early Louisiana

Creole. 5 . See Chapter 5, section 5.2.8 for further examples of verbs in serial-like constructions. 6. The verb ‘have’ is expressed by reflexes of French TENIR in the Lesser Antillean Creoles. 7 . There is further reason to interpret du Pratz’s account with a healthy dose of skepticism. Hall (1992a, 107–11), who recounts the conspiracy as told by du Pratz, cautions that his version of events "is a bit flattering to him and his role in uncovering [the conspiracy]. None of the existing documents mentions him at all. His report appears to be a composite version of several events and places him in the center of developments" (107). Marshall (1989, 31–32) observes "a certain amount of inconsistency" in du Pratz’s representation of Samba’s speech, because shortly after quoting Samba as uttering the above sentences to his co-conspirators, he quotes him speaking Standard French to the same persons. 8 . All of the quotes in this section come from the Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, the originals of which are housed in the Louisiana State Museum in New Orleans. I am indebted to Hall (1992a) for having brought these documents and their linguistic interest to my attention. While my transcriptions and translations occasionally differ from hers, her quotations from the originals were of immense help to me in locating the relevant passages. 9 . The only exception is in capitalization. Since, in the recorder’s handwriting, it was often difficult for me to tell whether or not the first letter of certain words was supposed to be capitalized, I have followed the capitalization rules of modern Standard French unless the letter in the manuscript was clearly lower case. 10. Hall (1992a, 178) translates qui as ‘whom.’ While this is clearly its meaning in Standard French, ki can mean ‘what’ (subject or object) in Louisiana Creole and may also have had this meaning in Pluton’s utterance. If this was the case, it is possible that he merely

thought Charlot had killed some game rather than committed murder. This also appears to be how the interrogator interpreted Pluton’s use of qui: in item (18), where he rephrases Pluton’s question to Charlot, he replaces qui with quest-ce que ‘what.’ 11. The repetition of a la cabanne/dans la cabanne corresponds to the end of one page (sixième) and the beginning of the next (septième). 12 . The war against the Natchez was waged for two years following the famous Natchez uprising of 1729 (see Hall 1992a, 100ff.; and Usner 1992, 65–76). 13. Utterance (34) deviates from Standard French only in the absence of a partitive determiner before the noun sagamité. Utterance (28) conforms to Standard French except for the double possessive construction mon terrain a mon maitre, lit., ‘my land of my master’s.’ 14 . The utterances in (18) and (19), attributed to Pluton and to Charlot’s mother, may have been normalized by the interrogator who repeats them to Charlot. 15. In modern-day Creole only the shortened form gen is used. Genyen is common in nineteenth-century texts, however. 16. Fr. MONDE also means ‘people’ in a few restricted contexts (e.g., the expressions TOUT LE MONDE ‘everyone’ and DU MONDE/BEAUCOUP DE MONDE ‘lots of people’), but the more commonly used word is GENS. In Creole moun (also mòn) is the usual word for ‘person, people’ in most contexts. 17 . As I noted earlier, though he never makes use of it himself, Mercier (1880, 381) mentions this structure in his grammatical sketch of Louisiana Creole and explicitly attributes it to the influence of slaves brought to Louisiana from Saint-Domingue.

18. The phonetic differences involve the subject pronoun toi in Toi fini (presumably representing the pronunciation [twa]), which today is pronounced [to]; the possessive adjective ton (presumably representing the pronunciation [t ]), which today is more often pronounced [ ]; aujourd’hui, which today is usually pronounced [ʒɔrdi] (though [ʒɔrdi] is also attested in my Pointe Coupee corpus); and the possessive adjective moi tienne, which today is pronounced [mokɛn] or [moʧɛn]. Of course, it is possible that the witness’s pronunciation in fact matched that of modern-day Creole more closely than is reflected in the clerk’s Frenchified orthography. 19 . "Ces esclaves, en recevant la langue française pour leur idiome familier, n’ont pu en embrasser l’éténdue vulgaire, puisque leurs besoins et leurs idées étaient plus bornés ; il a donc fallu resserrer pour eux, ou plutôt dégrader, cette belle langue" (Robin 1807, 3:185). "These slaves, when receiving the French language as their everyday idiom, were not able to comprehend its ordinary range, because their needs and their ideas were more limited; it was thus necessary to compress for them, or rather degrade, this beautiful language" (my translation). Note that Robin implies that it was the French colonists who "compressed" and "degraded" their French for the benefit of the slaves and not the slaves themselves who modified the language. 20 . "Il est réduit à un très-petit nombre de mots, et il est dépouillé de tous ses modes, de tous ses temps ; il ne se présente que sous la forme d’indéfini." 21 . See Neumann-Holzschuh (1987) for a collection of nineteenthcentury texts in Louisiana Creole and Neumann (1985a) for a comparison of the Creole found in these texts with the contemporary Creole spoken in the Breaux Bridge area. 22 . In this section I discuss only those theories of creolization that have been proposed to explain the origin of Louisiana Creole or that, in my view, hold out the most promise of doing so successfully. It is beyond the scope of this discussion to provide an overview of all of

the major theories of creolization that have been put forth in recent years. For this, see Holm (1988) and Arends et al. (1995). 23 . For a more recent version of monogenesis applied to the English-based Creoles, see McWhorter (1997). 24 . This is a collective term that Goodman uses to refer to the French-based Creoles in general. 25 . However, Chaudenson rejects a strict polygenetic approach that would deny historical links between any French-based Creoles. His own approach distinguishes between "first-generation" creoles that grew up independently in a colonial setting and "second-generation" creoles that had as a major input in the course of their development a first-generation creole imported from a previously established colony (1992, 38, 45–46, 57ff.). 26 . While it is true that an adequate comparative study of all creole languages—or even of just the French-based creoles—remains to be done, Hull in fact amasses very interesting comparative data in support of his hypothesis. 27 . In Chaudenson’s view, this would be true of all creoles having a European language as their lexical base, given the significant typological similarities between these languages. It would be truer still of the resemblances among the French-based creoles, which all have a common lexical base. 28 . Mongin’s account does not constitute evidence against Goodman’s revised scenario, since, according to Goodman, the exportation of an early French creole from the Caribbean to West Africa would have occurred well after 1681. He dates this event around "the beginning of the eighteenth century, as a result of the ever increasing slave trade and the substantial direct contact between the French Caribbean and those West African areas where the French were established" (1992, 355).

29 . Valdman (1992, 87–88) cites the example of the system of personal pronouns, noting that whereas Louisiana creole has potentially three distinct forms for different syntactic functions (subject, possessive, and complement), and the possessive pronoun precedes the noun as in French, Haitian "has a single set of pronouns undifferentiated for syntactic function, and … possessive determiners occur postposed." 30 . As we saw in 1.2, 451 slaves arriving from Juda on the first two slave ships to Louisiana in 1719 were diverted to Pensacola before being disembarked. They were presumably left behind when the Spanish regained control of this post, and thus they are not included in these totals. 31 . As explained in 1.4.2, there is reason to believe that small numbers of Caribbean blacks, some of them undocumented, were brought into the colony by legal and illegal means even after their importation had been officially prohibited during the Spanish regime. Some of them surely spoke Caribbean varieties of creole French. 32 . Mufwene (2001) is an important work that expands on many of Chaudenson’s ideas by examining the ‘ecology’ of creole development (and of language evolution more generally). Unfortunately, it appeared too late for me to incorporate its ideas here. 33. Baker (1996), in fact, shows that the société d’habitation and société de plantation model can be successfully applied to few French colonial settings other than Reunion, since demographic trends in most of the French colonies did not conform to this pattern. Baker goes on to reject Chaudenson’s analysis of creolization as a special type of second language acquisition with French as the target language, a view he himself formerly held. Unlike Baker, I believe that the second language acquisition model provides the best account of the process of creolization. 34 . These figures include the 451 slaves from the first two ships to arrive in Louisiana, which were immediately diverted to Pensacola.

35 . High mortality among slaves is evident in census figures showing that though 1,705 Africans had been shipped to Louisiana between 1719 and 1721, only 500 were still living in 1721 (Hall 1997). 36. One of the documents clearly refers to the "Bambara" in contradistinction to the other nations of slaves and points to ethnic divisions among them: "Tous les Banbara s’estoient ligué ensembles pour se rendre libres possesseurs du pays par cette révolte; les autres negres qui sont dans la colonie et qui ne sont point de cette nation, leur auroient servy d’esclaves" ["All the Bambara had conspired to make themselves free possessors of the country by this revolt; the other Negroes who are in the colony and who are not of this nation, would have served them as slaves"] (Archives Nationales de France, Beauchamp to the Ministre des Colonies, ANC C13A 13 folio 200). If these were truly ethnic Bambara, then it is likely that they shared a common language. However, the documents do not state this explicitly. The only reference to language that I was able to find in the documents relating to the incident was in the account by Governor Périer, who tells of an African sent by the Chickasaw to persuade the slaves to revolt against the French. "Ce negre estant banbara d’une nation que les autres n’entendent pas avoit mis dans son party tous les negres de sa nation" ["This Negro being a Bambara of a nation that the others do not understand had put in his party all the Negroes of his nation"] (Périer to the Company of the Indies, ANC C13A 13 folio 64, also cited in Hall 1992a, 106). The distinction made here between the emissary and the rest of his nation, on one hand, and the other slaves who "do not understand" this nation, on the other, implies a common language spoken by the conspirators. 37. See also Baker (1996, 100–101), who notes that Chaudenson adopts a more restrictive definition of pidgin than the one used by most linguists and who asks whether, in any case, Chaudenson’s "’français approximatif’ differ[s] in linguistic terms from what many would regard as ‘pidgin.’"

38. In the very early years of the colony, many of the French colonists, including the Canadian coureurs de bois, missionary priests, and Bienville himself, made the effort to learn one or more Indian languages. Details may be found in Higginbotham ([1977] 1991). 39 . As previously noted, Baker rejects the notion that French served as a target language in the development of the French-based creoles: "An essential difference between Chaudenson’s approach and my own is that I believe that the process which led to the emergence of the French creoles was set in motion, not by the efforts of non-Francophones to acquire French, but by the cumulative efforts of everyone present to communicate with those who did not speak their own language" (1996, 109). Baker also states, however, that "as the language of those holding political power," French "may be the only language to which everyone gets some exposure." As a consequence, "words from that language will probably provide the most promising starting point for intercommunication, and the medium for interethnic communication will in consequence develop a lexicon which is largely derived from this one source" (1996, 108–109). He does not explain why, if French is the language of the politically dominant class and "the only language to which everyone gets some exposure," it would not also be likely to provide most of the phonological and morphosyntactic, as well as lexical, material to the developing medium of interethnic communication. Neither is it clear how Baker’s model of creolization, which still attributes a central role to French, differs in its end result from models that posit French as a target language. 40 . While this quote might seem to imply that Hall believes creole arose in Louisiana, we saw in the previous section that she in fact subscribes to the monogenetic hypothesis, according to which Louisiana Creole grew out of a "Portuguese-based pidgin that had been relexified with French vocabulary in Senegal" (1992a, 192). 41 . For recent treatments of this issue, see the contributions in Mufwene (1993) and Calvet (1994).

42 . For illuminating discussions of these issues, see Valdman (1978, 382–86) and Arends et al. (1995, 100–109). 43 . I consider only morphosyntactic features here. There is no doubt that a small portion of the Louisiana Creole lexicon is of African origin, and I leave open the possibility of such influence on the phonology. 44. See Valdman and Klingler (1997, 141) and especially Harris (1973) for a discussion of possible influence from the Kwa languages and Yoruba in the construction of the Louisiana Creole interrogative adverb kofè ‘why.’ 45. Louisiana Creole’s system o preverbal markers differs from that of most other creoles in expressing the conditional by means of a distinct marker se (though te is often used in this function as well) rather than by combining the anterior marker and the future marker. For details, see 6.2.3, 6.2.6, and 6.2.8. 46. Final ye also occurs in Louisiana Creole in emphatic cleft structures beginning with presentative se: Se konm sa mo mo ye ‘That’s how I am.’ See 6.5.3 for details. 47 . Curiously, after an entire chapter devoted to the creole copula in which he never mentions possible substratal influence but considers only universal or pragmatic principles and superstratal models, Alleyne states rather unconvincingly in the book’s concluding paragraph that a substratal explanation of the creole copula appears "very seductive" (1996, 185). 48 . As explained in 5.2, the semantic values of these determiners are somewhat different from those of their French or English counterparts. This section also explains that the basilectal system described here coexists in Louisiana Creole with a more French-like system of prenominal determination. 49. Some linguists have also cited as a possible source of creole -la the Ewe form la that is homophonous with it and also occurs at the

end of the noun phrase (see, for example, Holm 1988, 191 and Alleyne 1996, 136). 50. While in the Creole of Pointe Coupee -ye functions by itself as the plural definite determiner, in nineteenth-century Louisiana Creole and in other French-based creoles there are determiner structures in which -ye or its cognate follows -la, in which case -la carries the semantic force of determiner and -ye appears to function merely as a marker of plurality. In modern-day Louisiana this function of -ye can still be seen in plural possessive constructions like mo dwa-ye ‘my fingers,’ whose singular version is mo dwa, not mo dwa-la. 51. Even today in Louisiana Creole it is often difficult to know whether ye occurring between a plural noun subject and a verb is more appropriately interpreted as a plural definite determiner or as a resumptive subject pronoun, especially when prenominal le is also present: Le vye mounn ye ète tou mouri (NF) ‘The old people are all dead’ / ‘The old people, they’re all dead’; Piti ye te konnen kour ann lit-la (KS) ‘The children would go to bed’/‘The children, they would go to bed’; Vye moun ye te seye fe ye piti bliye kreyòl (ME) ‘The old people tried to make their children forget Creole’ / ‘The old people, they tried to make their children forget Creole.’ 52. In Haitian Creole the pronoun is nou and in Sranan it is unu (Holm 1988, 204). See also Valdman (1978, 205, 384). 53 . Louisiana Creole verbs in serial-like constructions are described in sections 2.1 and 6.8 and in Neumann (1985a, 268–70). For a convincing argument in favor of an African origin for serial verbs in Saramaccan, see McWhorter (1992). 54 . The Spanish governor Carondolet had banned the importation of all slaves in 1796, but shipments from Africa were again allowed in 1800 (Hall 1992a, 278). The 1804 Act for the Organization of Orleans Territory and the Louisiana District banned the introduction of all slaves to Louisiana except those born in the United States or imported before 1798. In 1805 the interpretation of this restriction was relaxed to allow the importation of any slaves to Louisiana from

elsewhere in the United States, even if they had been disembarked after 1798. This, in fact, brought about the continued importation of Africans to the Territory of Orleans (as the new American territory was known until it achieved statehood in 1812) until 1808, when Congress prohibited the importation of all foreign slaves to any part of the United States (Lachance 1979, 180–81). There is evidence, however, that the slave trade continued illegally in Louisiana at least into the 1820s (Taylor 1960, 38–40, cited in Lachance 1979, 181 n. 66). Moreover, exceptions were made for the refugees from SaintDomingue who arrived with their slaves in 1809–10 (Lachance 1992a). 55 . The only other possibility for replenishment of speakers of African languages would have been the population of children who were born to African parents and learned their parents’ language(s). While such instances may have occurred occasionally, they are unlikely to have been widespread. Even when both parents spoke the same first language, the pressure must have been great for both the parents and children to acquire French and, later, the emerging creole. In trying to understand how it was that African languages were so quickly given up, it is instructive to examine the scenarios that Chaudenson (1992, 103–09) and Barbaud (1984) sketch for rapid adoption of the dominant language, even within families where it is spoken by neither parent. 56 . See Baker and Corne (1986, 165–68), whose "events" hypothesis predicts that such a continuum would form between the moment when slaves began to outnumber the dominant class (Event 1) and the moment when Creole slaves outnumbered this same group (Event 2). In a fashion not unlike Chaudenson’s model, the events hypothesis further predicts that the continuum would be broken and a stable creole would jell if there continued to be a significant importation of new slaves into the colony. 57 . The slave population increased from 3,395 in 1731–32, including 47 Indian slaves (Maduell 1972, 133), to 5,799 in 1766 (Rodríguez 1979, 438, cuadro 1.8 A). It is also important to note that

in 1731–32 slaves outnumbered free persons by more than three to one (3,395 to 1,095). Population figures were highly unstable, however, and this great disproportion in the numbers of slaves to free persons did not last long. 58. A somewhat expanded version of this section previously appeared in the Journal of Pidgin and Creole Languages (Klingler 2000). 59 . My focus here will be on the Attakapas district, of which modernday St. Martin Parish forms the heart. However, Bayou Teche also flows through St. Landry Parish, to the north, and Iberia and St. Mary Parishes, to the south. The great majority of Creole speakers in the Teche region today are to be found in St. Martin Parish, and Speedy’s linguistic and demographic evidence for her multiple geneses hypothesis also come from this parish. 60 . De Ville’s figures differ slightly from those of Rodríguez (1979, 413, cuadro 1.2 A, 438, cuadro 1.8 A), who lists 532 free persons and 310 slaves. 61 . This assumption is based on the finding that "the purchase of newly arrived slaves was both easier and cheaper than that of those living on established plantations" (1994, 128 n. 82). 62 . I owe this insight to Gwendolyn Hall (personal communication, November 25, 1999). 63 . See also Corne (1995). 64 . The exception is Broussard (1942) which, though written well after the end of the nineteenth century, represents the Creole of the author’s childhood (Broussard 1942, x) and thus may legitimately be included among the nineteenth-century texts. Speedy does not note any differences between relative clauses in Broussard and the other texts, however, suggesting that nineteenth-century Mississippi and Teche Creole were similar in this regard.

65 . I have only summarized Speedy’s and my analyses of the linguistic data here. For the details, see Speedy (1994, 1995) and Klingler (2000). 66 . "If we assemble so few names of refugees before the Great Wave of 1803 and if amongst them we find so few rich colonists, it is not only because freight is quite scarce, it is also because one knew in Saint-Domingue that a person with slaves would not be well received" (Debien and Le Gardeur 1992, 175). 67 . Slaves only appeared in documents if they testified in court, were listed in an estate inventory, were sold, married, baptized, or took part in some other official activity considered worthy of being recorded. 68 . Recall that, as shown in Table 6, 3,226 Saint-Domingue slaves arrived in New Orleans in 1809–10, meaning that, at best, just over 21 percent of them are represented in the Louisiana Slave Database. 69 . Nine slaves born in Saint-Domingue are inventoried in St. Landry Parish, just to the north of St. Martin Parish. 70. While it is true that the percentage of slaves having no identified origin was rather high in St. Martin Parish during the early American period (94.3 percent, compared, for example, to 79.3 percent in Orleans Parish during the same period), in a personal communication (November, 1999) Gwendolyn Hall states that she "see[s] no reason why literally no slaves recorded in St. Martin documents were born in St. Domingue, or came via St. Domingue or via Santiago de Cuba except that there were insignificant numbers of St. Domingue slaves in St. Martin." 71 . For data on modern-day Haitian Creole I consulted Hall ([1953] 1969), Valdman (1978), Valdman et al. (1981), and Valdman, Pooser, and Jean-Baptiste (1996). For earlier attestations of the language I consulted Ducoeurjoly (1802). For Mississippi Creole I used my data from Pointe Coupee and St. Tammany Parishes, nineteenth-century

texts in Louisiana Creole, and Wogan (1931), which may be taken to represent nineteenth-century Creole in New Orleans (see below). For Teche Creole I used Neumann (1985a) and Broussard (1942). I have not taken dialectal variation in Haitian into account, though this would be necessary for a more thorough and systematic comparison. Paul Lachance, who specializes in the study of the Saint-Domingue refugees in Louisiana, points out that free refugees from various parts of the Saint-Domingue colony ended up together in Louisiana (see, in particular, Lachance [1992b, 109–11]). He also notes quite correctly that, if the same were true of their slaves, this might have resulted in dialect mixing that "would further complicate generalizations about the influence on Creole as spoken in Louisiana" (personal communication, November 1999). 72. At this point, a note of caution is in order. It cannot automatically be assumed that a feature shared by Haitian and some variety of Louisiana Creole must be the result of the former’s influence on the latter. The two languages share a great many features (e.g., the progressive marker ape, the verb gen, genyen ‘to have,’ etc.), but, as previously explained, all but one of them—the possessive particle kèn—is also shared by other French-based creoles of the Caribbean or the Indian Ocean, so that they do not necessarily demonstrate an especially close relationship between Haitian and Louisiana Creole. The features that Mississippi Creole shares with Haitian but not with Teche Creole, then, are taken to be evidence of possible influence from Haitian but not proof of such influence. 73. Elsewhere in Haiti the possessive is formed by placing the possessive determiner directly after the noun phrase, without an intervening a. 74 . The initials in parentheses here and elsewhere in this book refer to the Creole speakers consulted for this study, described in Table 10. 75. A single example of the possessive construction Noun + Possessive Determiner (without an intervening preposition) is found in one of a series of "letters to the editor" satirizing blacks that were

published in the newspaper Le Méschacébé in 1867. Purportedly written by a former resident of Saint-Domingue, the letter contains the clause "ma pé graté la tette moin" ‘I’m scratching my head’ (Neumann-Holzschuh 1987, 107). As Neumann-Holzschuh (1987, 107 n. 2) points out, the author clearly uses this and other structures (e.g., the plural determiner la yo and the second person pronoun ou) in an attempt to imitate the Creole of Saint-Domingue. The use of the postnominal possessive construction for this purpose confirms that it was not widely found in Louisiana and that it retained a strong association with the Creole of Haiti. 76. The following examples are found in Ducoeurjoly (1802) (the English translations are mine, based on the French translations in the original): Case la qien à M. un tel ‘This house is Mr. So-andSo’s’; Petit la qien a moué ‘This child is mine’; Valet là qien a vous ‘This valet is yours’; Ca ben qien à ly ‘This is indeed his’ (318); c’est quien à toué ‘these are yours’; mo cherché tien à toué ‘I’m looking for yours’; to dois pitôt fair ben à tien à toué ‘you should do good to your own, rather than to strangers’ (352); mo va ba-vou quien à z’equipage qui trébel ‘I’m going to give you those of the crew, which are very beautiful’ (362). 77 . Although the skit was published in 1931, the author states that it was "written in real negro dialect, such as it was still spoken 50 or 60 years ago" (Wogan 1931, 5). I thus take it to be representative of nineteenth-century Mississippi Creole. 78. Ducoeurjoly defines acras as a "type of fritter that the blacks make with pea or bean flour" (my translation). 79 . See, for example, Neumann-Holzschuh (1987, 24, 93, 117). 80. The poems are "Ein de les aventures de Cocodrie et Tchoupoule" (Baille-mo-z’en-cinq! ‘Give me five!’ [69]; En tout cas, yé té tous là/sans Tchoupoule pour bailler tracas ‘In any case, they were all there/Without Tchoupoule to give them trouble’ [70], my translations) and "Voyageur" (Yé bailié mo tracas ‘They gave me trouble’ [76]; Mais mo lasse rester là/Sans bailler yé tracas ‘But I’m

tired of staying here /Without giving them any trouble’ [77], my translations). Although Debbie Clifton comes from Lake Charles in southwestern Louisiana, she has informed me that she learned the verb baye from a relative who spent many years in New Orleans (personal communication). It is thus possible that her relative learned baye when exposed to Mississippi Creole as formerly spoken in the city. 81. For additional examples of the passive with trouve from Pointe Coupee, see 6.10. For additional examples from Teche Creole, see Corne and Neumann (1984, 78) and Neumann (1985a, 282). 82. An exception is the proverb that reads [mɑ pɑ pret vu pu kase mo lɑtet] ‘I won’t tell you anything that you will use against me,’ in which the short form [pret] is used instead of the expected long form [prete] ‘loan’ after the future marker [ɑ] (Broussard 1942, 37, my English translation of Broussard’s French). 83. ‘Goat’ (French BOUC) is Broussard’s translation of [buki]. Ricard (n.d.) also relates the term to French BOUQUIN ‘old he-goat.’ However, the same form has the meaning ‘hyena’ in Wolof, and scholars who have written more recently on the subject of Louisiana Creole folktales agree that this is the origin of the word in Louisiana (see, for example, Ancelet, Edwards, and Pitre 1991, 185 and Hall 1992a, 188). 84 . The two-stem verb system is also found among mesolectal speakers of Pointe Coupee Creole. Among other speakers there clearly is a tendency towards such a system, but a good deal of variation subsists, with both long and short forms occurring in contexts from which they are excluded in Teche Creole. See 6.1.2.1 for details. 1 . See the Introduction for the definition of Acadiana adopted by the Louisiana Legislature. Although the francophone triangle may be considered the rough equivalent of Acadiana, it has been variously defined in the literature to comprise from nineteen to twenty-eight parishes. For details, see Trépanier (1988).

2 . Included in the percentage of blacks is a significant number of Creoles of color, who have always constituted a distinct social group in Pointe Coupee, as elsewhere in francophone Louisiana (see 1.3). The 2000 census questionnaire allowed respondents to select multiple racial or ethnic backgrounds, but only 128 Pointe Coupee residents chose to do so. Some 73 parish residents are identified as "some other race." It is likely that both of these categories include some Creoles of color. 3. Fortier (1914, 2:319) claims that a handful of coureurs de bois were living in a village called Pointe Coupee by 1708 and that a post was established there in 1717. He cites no sources for this information, however, and it has never been verified in extant historical documents. (I thank Brian Costello for bringing to my attention the lack of documentary evidence for Fortier’s claim. See also Costello 1999, 23.) 4 . The census is difficult to interpret because place designations are vague. For Pointe Coupee proper I counted only those inhabitants listed under the heading "Continuation at Pointe Coupee" and did not include any on the east (or left) bank. My count for the east bank began at the point where the census taker crossed the river at Pointe Coupee and began descending toward New Orleans. It includes what is called the "second department" but does not extend beyond the heading "Continuation, at Chetimachas." 5 . Hall (1992a, 240, 258–59) notes that free mulattoes were counted as whites on censuses taken before 1803. From 1803 on, they appeared in a separate category. 6 . An additional 122 (4.2) percent had been imported from Englishspeaking regions and 390 (13.5 percent) had no origin specified. 7 . It is likely that at least some of Farar’s slaves spoke creole-like varieties of English resembling the Gullah language still spoken on the Sea Islands of South Carolina and Georgia (see Holm 1989, 491–94).

8 . While this would seem to suggest a strong Walloon influence on early linguistic developments, such a conclusion may not be warranted, since most of the family names of these first settlers are absent from subsequent historical documents (Brian Costello, personal communication). This absence indicates that the families did not have male off-spring, died out completely, or moved out of the area. 9. The general term Canada appears twice. No mention is made of Nova Scotia in these records, which span the period from 1736 to 1803. 10 . While many Acadians made their way to Louisiana after stopovers in the Atlantic colonies, the lists do not indicate that any of the immigrants to Pointe Coupee from these colonies were of Acadian origin. Their names are generally Anglo-Saxon ones that sometimes have been Gallicized, such as Jean Gilcriest (North Carolina), Jean Milts (Virginia), Samuel Bush (Massachusetts), and Ebenezer Cooley (Massachusetts). 11 . While visiting the parish in 1860, New Orleans journalist J. W. Dorr called the False River area "one of the most ancient of the old Acadian settlements." Later in the same passage he states that "on either side" of the oxbow lake "are thickly clustered the fine residences of large planters or the picturesque cottages of the Acadians, who live and die in somnolent ease and simplicity on the same ground where their ancestors for many generations lived and died before them" (Prichard 1938, 1037–38). Smith (1937, 10) claims that "small numbers of them [i.e., Acadians] got possession of lands on the Acadian Coast and on False River," but he cites no source for this information. 12. Brasseaux, who provides an especially illuminating account of the semantic evolution of the term Cajun, notes that it "was used by Anglos to refer to all persons of French descent and low economic standing, regardless of their ethnic affiliation.… The term Cajun thus became a socioeconomic classification for the multicultural amalgam

of several culturally and linguistically distinct groups" (1992, 104– 105). 13 . The grammatical features that distinguish the Creole of Pointe Coupee from that of Breaux Bridge are examined briefly in 2.4 and in greater detail in Chapters 5 and 6. 14 . As was seen in 3.3, this development had already taken place to some extent in Pointe Coupee before a true, large-scale plantation system took hold at the end of the eighteenth century. The plantation economy in Pointe Coupee, then, simply accentuated an existing trend toward the concentration of slaves. 15 . It should be borne in mind, however, that, as the Mina conspiracy described in 2.2 illustrates, slaves from similar ethnolinguistic backgrounds were often kept together on plantations in Pointe Coupee (and other parts of the colony), and lax restrictions on travel allowed African language communities to be maintained even across plantation boundaries. Thus, while the need for a medium of interethnic communication among slaves was surely great, there were also occasions when slaves were able to rely on their native language or other African languages they knew to communicate with their fellow bondsmen and -women. 16 . The tobacco grown in Louisiana was of infamously poor quality, and the indigo crop, which thrived for some time, was eventually destroyed by disease (McGowan 1976, 76–77; Sitterson 1953, 3). 17 . Costello (1999, 58–59), however, casts doubt on the account of Mix having established the first cotton mill in 1802 since the Mix name does not appear in local records until 1835. 18 . For detailed accounts of the 1795 slave conspiracy in Pointe Coupee, see McGowan (1976, chap. 7) and especially Hall (1992b). 19 . This contrasts sharply with the situation in Saint-Domingue, where in 1791, on the eve of the Haitian Revolution, slaves constituted 90 percent of the total population, with whites accounting

for just under 6 percent and freedmen just over 4 percent (Watts 1987, 320, Table 7.9). 20 . There is a strong possibility that the 32 slaves identified during the Spanish period included some of the same ones identified during the French period, since the same slave could easily appear in documents from each period. 21 . As shown in 2.1, the transcript of the trial of those involved in the 1791 slave plot in Pointe Coupee indicates that Creole was spoken there at the time by slaves as well as by some whites. 22 . In the colonial marriage contracts of Pointe Coupee, the first reference to an American immigrant, a native of North Carolina, is made in 1772. Only a handful of others are noted between this date and 1802 (De Ville 1962). 23 . At this date Menn (1964, 90) lists four plantations employing between 150 and 199 slaves, another four employing between 200 and 299, and one employing more than 300. Oddly, Menn does not mention the very large plantation owned by the French widow of Charles Parlange. 24 . In New Orleans the slave population was also the first to become predominantly anglophone, and many French-speaking slaves also learned to speak English. Lachance speculates that these English-speaking slaves may have encouraged the francophone white population to learn the language as well: "One can imagine the inconvenience to unilingual French-speaking masters of household slaves conversing in a language they did not understand. By providing such masters with an incentive to learn English, slaves may well have contributed to their Americanization" (1992, 119). 25. The parish’s first newspaper was the Southern Tribune, which began publication in 1845 in both French and English. The bilingual Pointe Coupee Echo/L’Echo de la Pointe Coupee was first published in 1847 and ceased publication in 1872. The Pointe Coupee

Democrat/Le Démocrate de la Pointe Coupée was published in both French and English from 1858 to 1862. The newspapers of the period that were published only in English were the Pointe Coupee Republican (1871–ca. 1877), the Pelican (1877–80), the Messenger (ca. 1800), and the Pointe Coupee Banner (1800–present). 26 . For further information about the use of French in newspapers and in legal documents, see Costello (1999, 91). 27 . Saint-Barthélemy and Reunion, for example, also have white populations for whom the local French-lexifier creole has long been the primary language. For Saint-Barthélemy, see Maher (1993, 1996, 1997) and Calvet and Chaudenson (1998). For Reunion, see Chaudenson (1974, xvii–xviii) and Beniamino and Baggioni (1993). 28 . See section 5.1.1.1 for a discussion of agglutination in the Creole of Pointe Coupee. 29 . Non-francophone white immigrants, especially Germans and Italians, would have constituted exceptions, but they did not begin arriving in large numbers until the nineteenth century, by which time Louisiana Creole was already firmly in place. 30. Mercier’s novel L’Habitation Saint-Ybars ([1881] 1989) contains examples of children of aristocratic families who speak Creole with their black servants. (See Valdman 1979 for a sociolinguistic analysis of Mercier’s dialogues in Creole.) As late as 1942 Broussard wrote that in St. Martin Parish, Creole was "spoken bilingually with French by a large number of whites who learned it from their nurses in childhood.… In families of better social pretension, the dialect has always been accepted as the language of childhood" (viii). 31. Trudgill (1986) uses the term koinéizatin to refer to the combined effects of leveling and simplification that occur when dialects of the same language come into contact. Leveling is the elimination "of minority and otherwise marked speech forms" from a set of variants, while simplification is the "reduction of irregularities" (1986, 107). See Morgan (1970) for a discussion of leveling (but under a broader

definition than Trudgill’s) among the speech varieties in Louisiana today. 32 . See Costello (1999, 145) for further information on Italian immigration to Pointe Coupee Parish. 33 . "Ils n’oublient cependant jamais d’insister sur les fines nuances qui distinguent leur langue de celle des Noirs! Dans la population blanche, on trouve une conscience très aiguë des niveaux de langue qui existent dans ce parler." 34 . I do not distinguish a separate category for the Creole spoken by Creoles of color. My impression is that it is much closer to the Creole of blacks than to that of whites and can in fact be grouped together with the former. This impression comes from the study of many interviews conducted with members of all three ethnic groups, but it is not founded on a systematic comparison of the speech of Creoles of color with that of African Americans and whites. 35. Pronunciations like motchèn clearly result from the palatalization of [t] before [j] in the morpheme tienne [tjɛn]. Among black speakers, then, this phonological process has gone a step further, the palatal affricate [ʧ] becoming a velar stop. Cf. northern Haitian Creole kin, kèn (see 2.4). 36. Here and in subsequent examples, number is in fact marked by postnominal -ye rather than on the prenominal determiner itself as is common among white speakers. 37. Note the agglutination of la- on the noun mezon. This type of agglutination is much more common among blacks than among whites (see section 5.1.1). 38 . An important change occurred in some white, land-owning families, however, when they "literally inherited themselves out of property" through repeated divisions and subdivisions of pieces of land. As a result, some family members became sharecroppers or hired themselves out as day laborers. Others entered nonagricultural

trades or left the parish for better economic opportunities (Costello 1999, 138–39). 39 . I am indebted to the groundbreaking research of Leona Palmer (1992) for most of the information in this section on the education of blacks in Pointe Coupee. Anyone wishing to learn more about this subject should consult Palmer’s work. For further information on the education of all racial groups in the parish, see Costello (1999, 88– 91, 164–67, 190–194, 228–232). 40. Pellegrin, writing in 1949, notes that a "Creole patois" is spoken natively by "most persons in the southern part of the parish." He further observes that, "To this date, children in many families do not learn English until they attend school. Among older persons, many do not speak English at all" (1949, 153). Thus monolingualism in Creole, fairly widespread just fifty years ago, has now virtually disappeared. 41. For further information about Plantevigne’s school and his murder, see "The Death of Rev. L. A. Planving" (1903), "Negro Educator Slain" (1903), and Hewes (1903). See also Costello (1999, 191–93). A dramatic account of this event may be found in the novel The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman, by Ernest Gaines, who was born and raised on a plantation on False River. In Gaines’s novel Plantevigne’s character is given the name Neal Brown Douglas. Palmer (1992, 178) believes this to be a different person from Reverend Plantevigne, but I suspect that Gaines’s character is based on him. In 1990 I interviewed a living relative of Plantevigne’s assassin, who confirmed the story. Plantevigne’s tombstone sits in the churchyard of the Zion Travelers’ Baptist Church on False River near Mix. 42 . The Jeanes Fund and the Rosenwald Fund both contributed to the operation of schools for blacks in Pointe Coupee. The first Rosenwald Elementary School in the parish was built in New Roads in 1923. Two others were built shortly thereafter, one in 1925 and another in 1927 (Palmer 1992, 229, 232, 235).

43 . Only St. Augustine Elementary School, a Catholic school that opened in 1933, offered education through the eighth grade (Palmer 1992, 252). 44 . Here YC is quoting her mother, who was opposed to sending her children to school. YC herself considered education for her children to be very important. 45 . For further information on desegregation attempts in Pointe Coupee, see Costello (1999, 228–32) and Fabre (1975). 46 . Poydras’s funds continued to be used for the education of Pointe Coupee’s white children after the closing of Poydras College. In 1882 the Poydras School of New Roads was established, only to be replaced in 1890 by Poydras Academy and in 1924 by Poydras High School, which, having been converted to an elementary school, closed its doors in 1991 (Costello 1999, 165, 190). 47 . The 1990 Census counted 1,974 persons five years of age and older who spoke "French or French Creole" at home (Bureau of the Census 1993). It may be assumed that nearly all of these persons spoke Creole, but there is no way to determine the level of their ability in the language. 48. I have only heard this term used by white speakers, who typically also refer to themselves as Cadiens (see the Introduction). 49. Particularly when it is being distinguished from Standard French and Cajun French, Creole is often referred to as "broken French" or "broken down French." The names courivini, nèg, and gumbo, which are attested in other Creole-speaking areas (see, for example, Neumann 1985a, 20), are not used in Pointe Coupee. The continuing stigmatization of Creole in relation to Cajun is evident in the attitudes of Cajuns who have taken up residence in Pointe Coupee. I have been told of couples in which the Cajun wife considers the Creole spoken by her husband to be inferior to her own variety of French (Brian Costello, personal communication).

50 . Native speakers of French often present a different view, however, noting the difficulty they had in understanding Creole. 51 . The situation is somewhat different in the Lafayette-Breaux Bridge area, where people from other creole-speaking regions are brought in more frequently for events such as the Festival International de la Musique and through a high school exchange program with Guadeloupe organized by C.R.E.O.L.E., Inc. 52 . "Creole" is commonly used as an ethnic designation for Creole speakers of all colors, while "Cajun" is reserved for whites. See the Introduction for details. 53 . Although it has recently gained popularity in Pointe Coupee, zydeco music is an imported cultural form that was not traditionally part of the folk music repertoire in the area. 54 . According to an early definition of diglossia by Ferguson (1959), the term applied only to a relation of functional complementarity and unequal prestige between two closely related languages or two varieties of the same language. The situation in Pointe Coupee fits Fishman’s expanded definition of the term (1972) to apply to "functionally differentiated language varieties of any kind," whether or not they are related. 55 . Although the use of English is usually automatic in this context, on more than one occasion speakers described to me with some resentment instances where a non-Creole speaker had demanded that they not speak Creole in his presence for fear they might be talking about him. 56 . Tentchoff (1977, 84–85) notes a similar phenomenon among Creole speakers in the Bayou Teche region. 57 . For discussions of language loss in the Cajun-speaking community, see Rottet (1996, 2001) and Blyth (1997). For an analysis of code-switching phenomena in Cajun, see Klingler, Picone, and Valdman (1997).

1. The abbreviation ‘trans.’ appears in square brackets between initials identifying the speaker and the English translation of the Creole utterance: Nou monje sa-ki te dan la glasyèr-la (NF) [trans.] ‘We ate what was in the refrigerator.’ When the translation conforms in meaning to the cue, no further information is provided. Very often, however, the translation differs from the cue sentence in some way; in such cases, the cue sentence is provided within the square brackets, followed by the semantically accurate translation of the Creole utterance: La tab-la li met bouke-ye anho a bèzòn ranje (NF) [trans. ‘The table he put the flowers on broke.’] ‘The table he put the flowers on needs to be fixed.’ 2 . See 3.5 and Neumann (1984) for more detailed descriptions of the distinguishing features of the Creole of whites, who make up the majority of the speakers that I have placed in the secondary group for this study. 3. JL picked up a good deal of Cajun French from her father, a Creole speaker who learned to speak Cajun while working in Lafourche Parish. LD came into direct contact with Cajun while working in the same parish when he was younger. During World War II, DG spent two years in France and Belgium, where he frequently communicated with native speakers of French. I have chosen to place ML in the category of secondary speakers because she studied enough French in school that she is still able to read it today. However, her speech differs little from that of her brother and sister (FL and OL), who are included in the primary group and with whom she lived until very recently. 4 . Out of concern for confidentiality, I have not used speakers’ real initials. 5. I use the term Creole to identify persons of mixed race who have historically constituted a social group very distinct from both blacks and whites. This is the most common term of self-identification for this group, and most of its members insist that the term cannot legitimately be applied to blacks. This claim notwithstanding, blacks of francophone background in Pointe Coupee do often call

themselves "Creole," as this quote from an elderly black speaker attests: Mo se pa aryen pase kreyòl, mo pa meriken (NH) ‘I’m nothing but Creole, I’m not American.’ As explained in the Introduction, the term has traditionally also been applied to whites of French or Spanish heritage, though this usage seems to be rare today in Pointe Coupee. 6 . An adequate treatment of the problems such items pose would require a comparative study of the sound systems of Creole and the English spoken in the area (see Marshall 1982 for a related discussion of the influence of varieties of Louisiana French on English pronunciation). 7. See, for example, Broussard (1942, 2), Durand (1930, iv), Lane (1935, 9), Neumann (1985a, 88), and Read ([1931] 1963, xx). Conwell and Juilland (1963, 98) note that "LaF [Louisiana French] / / frequently corresponds to Standard French / /," but they specify that the distinction is maintained in most instances. 8. Jarreau (1931, vi) also maintains the [ ]/[ ] distinction for Pointe Coupee Parish. Lavergne (1930) and Perret (1933) note only [ ], but Perret states in a footnote that "The ( ) as well as the ( ) is found in Pointe Coupée Parish" (Perret 1933, x n. 18). 9. Even in this position the status of [ŋ] is in fact questionable. Given the series of alternating pairs [ʒ ŋ], [ʒ gle] ‘to think’; [l ŋ] ‘tongue,’ [l gaʒ] ‘language’; [l ŋ] ‘long,’ [l gʒ] ‘length,’ [ŋ] could be analyzed as an allophone of [g] that occurs in final position after a nasal vowel. In Breaux Bridge, [ŋ] alternates with [ng] in final position: [nep ŋ], [nepɛng] ‘pin,’ [lɔŋ], [lɔng] ‘tongue’ (Neumann 1985a, 93). My corpus contains no such examples. 10. Final [k], in contrast, is realized after nasal vowels, though intervening [ŋ] typically occurs: [m ŋk] ‘gap.’ 11. In St. Tammany Parish, however, r is typically realized as the uvular fricative [ ], and the alveolar flap [ɾ] is not used.

12 . The rounding of etymological [e] to [ø] or [œ] is very widespread among speakers of Cajun and Creole in the village of Kraemer (also known as Bayou Boeuf) in Lafourche Parish; it especially affects the -[e] ending of verbs, which is frequently rounded to -[ø]. 13. Neumann (1985a, 88) does not note [ ] at all in Breaux Bridge. I have encountered it frequently among Creole speakers in St. Tammany Parish. 14 . See Bernabé (1976, 38) for a similar solution applied to the writing of Martinican Creole. 15. The sequence [en] is not attested word-finally in my corpus, obviating the need for orthographic é + n to represent it. 16. But see Klingler, Picone, and Valdman (1997) for an analysis of agglutinated la- as a noun marker. 17 . The specific element that attaches to the noun may vary, however, especially in the case of the nouns of group (1). See 5.1.1 for details. 1 . See Neumann (1985a) for a similar classification of nouns in the Creole of Breaux Bridge. 2. This figure rises to 227 if homophones and compounds are included (that is, if items like lakòd ‘rope’ and lakòd lenj ‘clothesline’ are counted separately). My corpus contains a further 67 nouns preceded by la, but only in contexts where its status as an agglutinated element is unclear. By way of comparison, Baker counted 664 instances of syllabic agglutination in Mauritian Creole, 212 in Guianese Creole, 113 in Haitian Creole, and just 32 in Reunion Creole (1984, 112; 1987, 65). It is important to point out, however, that whereas agglutination is highly variable in Louisiana Creole, it is much more stable in these French creole varieties. Baker and Corne (1986, 170), for example, speak of "non-deletable" agglutinated syllables in Mauritian Creole, a

characterization that certainly would not apply to most agglutinated syllables in Louisiana Creole. 3. An exception is labitan, abitan ‘farmer,’ which often occurs in its vowel-initial form without agglutinated l-: en abitan [ abit ] (NF) ‘a farmer.’ 4. This form is rare and is considered to be French by some speakers. The more common Creole term is piti. Neumann (1985a, 114 n. 6) also notes: "The word zõfõ is not part of the basilect" (my translation). 5. LD once used the form lwazo: Na de lwazo, je v onn dè pakonyen, pou ramase le pa-konn, pou vyen sère ‘There are birds that go on pecan trees to gather pecans, to store them.’ 6. Because of the high degree of variation within this group, Neumann chooses to place its members in the second class, comprising nouns of French origin that generally do not show agglutination. In Pointe Coupee the agglutination of la- is so widespread and is the rule rather than the exception for such a large number of nouns that it is more appropriate to place the nouns susceptible to it in the first class. 7. According to the criteria adopted here for determining whether or not a prenominal element is agglutintated, the status of di and la in Lane’s partitive examples is in fact ambiguous, since they are not preceded by another determiner or adjective (see below). 8 . The examples are Neumann’s. The English translations are my own. 9. I do not include postposed -la as a criterion for agglutination because its status as a definite/deictic determiner is not always clear (see 5.2.3.2). 10. Neumann (1985a) does note the examples mo le zwit ‘my oysters,’ mo le chevret ‘my shrimp’ (113), and mo le tchoris ‘my

sausages’ (130). If we apply the author’s criteria for distinguishing agglutinated la from the definite determiner la to these instances of le, le zwit, le chevret, and le tchoris should be analyzed as lexical units since they are preceded by the determiner mo. Instead, Neumann chooses to analyze le as a preposed determiner. She explains mo le tchoris as a "hybrid form" that results from the linguistic insecurity of Creole speakers (130). Although she does not explain what motivates this analysis, it is presumably the fact that the nouns are plural, with le, rather than postposed ye, serving to mark this. While in my corpus the vast majority of nouns with initial le are also plural, there are a few instances in which the noun is singular (e.g., en lefey ‘a leaf’). The practice adopted here is to treat le in the same fashion as la, attaching it to the noun whenever it intervenes between the noun and a preceding determiner or adjective, regardless of whether the noun is singular or plural. 11. It is possible that FV’s use of this form resulted from a confusion of letwal ‘star’ and the more common form for ‘spider’s web,’ la twal laryen (var.). 12. As the transcription indicates, these two versions of the same sentence were uttered in sequence. The same speaker also used kòt on another occasion: to kòt-ye.… to gen kòt ‘your ribs.… You have ribs.’ These examples well illustrate the highly unstable nature of agglutinated le-. 13 . It is significant, for instance, that in my corpus unagglutinated forms appear primarily in the speech of the secondary group. 14. In Breaux Bridge dibwa means ‘piece of wood, stick’ or ‘woods, forest,’ while ‘tree’ is rendered by narb, larb, zarb (Neumann 1985a, 151). 15. This form is not found in Breaux Bridge today: "The form ẽ depom ‘an apple’ (Broussard 1942, 5) is today replaced by ẽ pom" (Neumann 1985a, 150, my translation). 16. The forms zef, nef are rare: so zef (ID) ‘its eggs.’

17 . This insight was provided by coauthor Michael Picone. 18 . See also Baker (1984) and Grant (1995, 168–69). While they do not analyze agglutinates as noun markers (or treat them as separate morphemes of any kind) in the modern-day French creoles, they propose a link between the relative frequency of syllabic agglutination in particular French Creoles, most notably Mauritian, and the degree of influence that Bantu languages might have had in their formation, since these languages lack articles and, moreover, have nouns that bear a syllabic prefix marking their membership in a specific noun class. 19 . This figure is for all varieties and periods of Louisiana Creole and includes words of dubious authenticity culled from satirical texts (Grant 1995, 161). As noted above, my Pointe Coupee corpus contains 180 words with syllabic agglutination. 20. In contrast, agglutination in the Pidgin French of West Africa and the français populaire d’Abidjan appears to be unstable. No agglutination is attested in Tay Boi, the French pidgin of Vietnam (Grant 1995, 164–65). 21 . Grammatical gender is frequently marked in the Creole of speakers in the secondary group. See 3.7. 22. Èn, enn are used consistently with a small set of common nouns that are feminine in Standard French, e.g., fwa ‘time’ and pyas ‘dollar.’ Broussard (1942, 52 n. 1) also notes the exceptional use of the feminine forms eine and bonne before the noun fois. 23. Neumann noted a similar interchangeability of le and de in the speech of blacks in Breaux Bridge: "While there does not yet appear to exist a functional division between le and de in the speech of blacks, white creolophones very often make the distinction between le and de as in le rasin ‘the roots’ and de rasin ‘roots’ for example" (1985a, 114 n. 4, my translation). The occurrence of forms pronounced with a consonant that can be clearly identified as neither

d nor l, and that I note as d/l, l/d, is perhaps related to the functional ambiguity of these determiners. 24. By way of comparison, the regular variants of the definite determiner la in Haitian Creole are a after oral vowels, an after nasal vowels, and lan or nan after nasal consonants (Valdman et al. 1981, xiv). 25. As explained in 5.2.2.1.2, it is not clear whether lan in this example and nan in the following two are better analyzed as definite determiners or as adverbs. The morphophono-logical variation is the same in either case. 26. The singular use of le, which Neumann (1985a, 109–10) also notes in Breaux Bridge, is rare in Pointe Coupee. 27. If it is interpreted as singular, it would correspond to Standard French LE MATIN, LE SOIR ‘in the morning, in the evening.’ In one pair of nineteenth-century attestations of these expressions, however, this determiner is clearly meant to be plural: C’était toujou les soirs mo te volé des prines. … ‘It was always in the evening that I stole plums’; Nalé prier pou toi les soirs et les matins. ‘We’ll pray for you in the morning and in the evening/every morning and every evening’ (Neumann-Holzschuh 1987, 133, 255, emphasis added, my translation). But note also quand lé soir vini ‘when night came’ (Fortier 1895, 56), where lé is clearly meant to be singular. 28. Even in Breaux Bridge, however, the use of postposed la predominates with monosyllabic nouns and nouns showing agglutination: "Note however that monosyllabic nouns as well as the nouns of Group I [i.e., nouns showing agglutination]… have for the definite article almost exclusively the postposed particle -la" (Neumann 1985a, 109, my translation). 29. It is unclear why the noun parc, which appears to be specific in this context, does not take a definite determiner.

30. A curious exception is the case of unmarked nouns that are already known from the context: Nou fou chval en ti kou-d-fwet ‘We gave the horse a little kick’ (Neumann 1985a, 110, my translation). Such usage does not emerge clearly from my data, but there are a few examples that seem to conform to it: Ne e garde pou wiski (AS) ‘We were looking for the whiskey (the whiskey has already been mentioned).’ 31 . It is possible that this tendency is not a recent development but has always been part of the variation in the Creole of Pointe Coupee. If this is the case, it would be accurate to speak of decreolization only to the extent that the marking of nonspecific nouns is occurring with greater frequency than it did in the past. The more basilectal practice of leaving nonspecific nouns unmarked might be reinforced by influence from English, in which nonspecific plural and mass nouns are unmarked. 32. According to Valdman (1977, 163), "[t]he only feature shared by the noun determiner systems of the various dialects of Créole consists of the use of post-posed -la …, whose semantic value is intermediate between that of the French definite and demonstrative articles." (Valdman uses the term Créole to refer to the Frenchlexifier creoles collectively.) 33. This is an especially interesting example in which a appears to determine the entire preceding noun phrase tou piti-ye mo gen, which includes both a plural determiner and a relative clause. The fact that a does not agree in number with the plural head of the noun phrase, piti, suggests that its function here is closer to that of an adverb than that of a definite determiner. 34 . As explained in the Introduction, I have converted the examples drawn from linguistic studies of the other French-lexifier creoles into the notational system I use to represent Louisiana Creole in this study (see 4.4). 35. This is in contrast to the situation in Breaux Bridge, where Neumann (1985a, 136) observes: "The demonstrative sa is always

reinforced by the actualizer -la, it never appears alone; the construction *diri-sa pa bon ‘the rice isn’t good’ is ungrammatical…" (my translation). It may be that the use of sa by itself as a demonstrative in Pointe Coupee results from the reduction of sa-a [sa:]. 36. The status of -la in the demonstrative is not clear, but it might best be analyzed as the definite determiner. See Valdman (1978, 193–94), who proposes such an analysis of the demonstrative in all of the French-lexifier creoles. 37 . A singular interpretation of this sentence is also possible, however, in which case the translation might be something like ‘All that has disappeared.’ 38. Vou and vo are polite forms. 39. "Most of our informants use the Frenchified forms and the basilectal forms interchangeably" (Neumann 1985a, 128, my translation). The author also notes a difference in the frequency of use of the plural and the feminine singular forms: "In the speech of blacks, the use of the forms me, te, se is much wider spread than that of the forms marking feminine gender ma, ta, sa" (129, my translation). 40 . I encountered a few instances of forms without a final [n]. I have not noted these here. 41. Note that Creole speakers sometimes mark possession in English with the preposition "for": "He’d a (he done?) kill a dog for me dead (i.e., He killed a dog of mine)" (AS); "I say who that for? Who that book for? (i.e., Whose book is that?)" (NH). Such constructions are also found among non-Creole speakers throughout south Louisiana, in particular in reference to fathering children, e.g., "She had three children for him," "Who’s her baby for?" Possessive constructions with "for" are common in the Suriname Creoles and in the English-lexifier Creoles of the Caribbean, as in the Ndjuka example a osu fu mi ‘my house’ (Holm 1988, 200).

42. For Martinican, however, Bernabé (1983, 910) notes that tab li, without definite determiner, means ‘his tables’ (in general), whereas tab li a means ‘his table’ (without particular definite value). In this context, then, it would appear that the definite article is required to render the singular possessive. 43. The verb and the negator have been deleted in this sentence, which is best interpreted as an elliptical version of Ye te pa gen oken fanm andan la, uch nonm. 44 . With regard to adjectives in Breaux Bridge, Neumann notes: "In certain cases it is possible to find a gender distinction, though there is still considerable variation in usage" (1985a, 138, my translation). 45. For the comparative with pase, see 6.8 and 6.11. 46. ‘Unload’ would make more sense here, but I have not attested delivre in this meaning. 47. In Breaux Bridge, this has the forms nenporteke, nenportekel (Neumann 1985a, 123). 48. palo on < pale on. 49 . This is part of ID’s account of how slaves were brought to Louisiana, told to her by her parents. According to this version, the Africans, who were starving, were lured onto the slave traders’ ships by the promise of food. The unsuspecting victims were told they would be taken back to shore after they had eaten, but instead they were shipped to the New World to be sold as slaves. 50 . See, in particular, the exchange between Mamrie and Lauzun (Mercier [1881] 1989, 297–98). For an analysis of French-Creole diglossia on nineteenth-century Louisiana plantations based on Mercier’s novel, see Valdman (1979). 51 . Neumann (1985a, 168) notes such a use in Breaux Bridge.

52. In Cajun, the use of sa as a third person plural pronoun is on the rise (Byers 1988; Brown 1988). 53. The feminine form èl of the 3 sg. pronoun is common among white Creoles speakers in Breaux Bridge but is also used by some blacks (Neumann 1985a, 170; my field notes from interviews with speakers in the Breaux Bridge area). 54. "Note that white creolophones sometimes replace the subject form li with i; we thus observe a reintroduction of the differentiation between subject form/complement form in the third person" (Neumann 1985a, 170, my translation). 55 . It is possible that the use of a preposition was influenced by the English cue sentences in which the indirect objects were introduced by "to." 56. As Neumann (1985a, 170 n. 1) points out, however, li is (or was formerly) also in widespread use in northern and western France. 57. Although the 2 pl. pronoun zokèn, corresponding to the possessive determiner of the same form, does not appear in my corpus, it almost certainly exists. 58. MP once used the form nouzòtchenn: Le deu-z-òt fanmiy, ye pa foutu parle kreyòl o franse, dutou. Pa dutou. Se zus nouzòtchenn… "The other two families couldn’t speak Creole or French at all. Not at all. It was just ours." 59. As previously noted, however, early Haitian Creole and the northern dialect of the modern-day language use the construction kin a/ an + personal pronoun (usually in a reduced form), which is clearly related to the Louisiana construction in -ken, -tchèn: Ban mouen kin-an-m ‘Give me mine’; Sa sé kin-a-y ‘That’s his’ (Valdman 1978, 208). 60 . This form does not appear to be used in Breaux Bridge. Neumann’s only example of it comes from a mesolectal speaker in

Pointe Coupee (but the form is used by basilectal speakers in Pointe Coupee, as well) (1985a, 184). 61. This is the only instance of zekay in the corpus. The usual form is lekay. 62. Neumann (1985a, 177) also noted this use of sa in the speech of a white informant from Pointe Coupee: Et [sic] la li rakonte li sa li te konefe le swar kouri monje mai sa Fronswa te kone met deor pou le zozo-la ‘And then he told him what he used to do at night, go eat the corn François would put outside for the birds’ (my translation). Several attestations appear in Fortier (1895, 70): Donne moin mo cravate, et mo col, ça mo té prété toi ‘Give me my cravat and my collar that I had lent you’; Donne moin mo chimise, ça mo té prété toi ‘Give me my shirt which I had lent you’; Donne moin mo capot, ça mo té prété toi ‘Give me my cloak which I had lent to you’; Donne moin mo tchilottes, et mo caneçons ça mo prété toi ‘Give me my pants and the underwear that I loaned you’ (the translations of all but the last example are For-tier’s). Sa does not appear to be used in this function in Breaux Bridge. Speedy (1994, 141 n. 97) analyzes sa in such constructions, not as a relative pronoun, but as an antecedent noun phrase followed by a Ø relative pronoun (e.g., mai sa _________ Fronswa te kone met deor), a structure that mirrors that found in indirect interrogatives. 63. Note that while the noun being relativized (moun-ye) is plural, the following possessive determiner (so) is singular. 1 . While Cajun makes less extensive use of inflectional morphology than does Standard French, inflectional endings added to variable stems continue to play a crucial role in expressing moods and tenses. This is brought out clearly, for example, in Papen’s and Rottet’s recent description of the Cajun of Terrebonne and Lafourche Parishes (1997, 92–102). 2. As Neumann (1985a, 61–62) points out, however, even in nineteenth-century texts Louisiana Creole differs from Bickerton’s prototypical system in that te also expresses habitual past, a

semantic category not included in Bickerton’s model. Furthermore, Louisiana Creole has a special marker se to express the conditional, which is expressed in Haitian and many other Creoles by a combination of the past and future markers: Haitian Si mouen gen tan, m ta fèl ‘If I had the time, I would do it,’ where ta represents the combination of the anterior marker té and the future, or prospective, marker a (Valdman 1978, 217, my translation). 3. More specifically, this class (labeled Class I in Neumann’s system), includes (1) most verbs ending in -e (in the long form); (2) verbs ending in -er (from the class of French -IR verbs having their past participle in -ERT); and (3) verbs ending in -òn, -èn, which become -on, -en in the short form (from a subset of French verbs ending in -RE). She also recognizes a second class of verbs having a single stem. This class includes several very common verbs (kone ‘know,’ ole ‘want,’ kontine ‘continue,’ fe ‘do, make,’ gen ‘have’); a large number of verbs ending in -i (dormi ‘sleep,’ fini ‘finish,’ kouri ‘go,’ resi ‘succeed,’ etc.); verbs ending in -wa (bwa ‘drink,’ wa ‘see,’ krwa ‘believe’), and a variety of consonant-final verbs (permet ‘allow,’ diparet ‘disappear,’ perd ‘lose,’ koud ‘sew,’ kapab ‘can, be able,’ don ‘give,’ etc.). Finally, a few verbs have multiple stems whose distribution is not governed by the criteria that apply to Class I verbs. The stems of the verbs elve-elev ‘raise,’ sorti-sor ‘go out,’ sonti-sont, son ‘feel,’ servi-serv ‘serve,’ vini-vyen ‘come,’ rondi-ronn ‘give (back)’ are interchangeable in the present, while those of viv-vi ‘live,’ bat-ba ‘strike, fight,’ met-me ‘put, place’ alternate freely in the present as well as in the imperative (Neumann 1985a, 188–94). 4 . Perret (1933) describes a similar system of two-stem verbs. Although he does not say where his data come from, some of it must have come from Pointe Coupee, since he notes [e] as one form of the progressive marker. As explained in 6.2.4, Pointe Coupee is the only area where the form [e] is attested in this function. 5. In the transcribed conversations in Chap. 7, all of the two-stem verbs used by white speakers follow the pattern. My corpus does contain exceptions, however. GS, for instance, used the short form

of koupe ‘cut’ after a preposition, where the long form would be expected, and the long form of monje ‘eat’ in the habitual present, where the short form would be expected: (Inave) kan-menm pròch de milyon de diferons monyèr pou koup la vyàn bef e la vyàn kochon ‘There were nearly two million different ways to cut beef and pork’; Nou sœrv pa jus le trip pou toufe sosis e bouden nou monje le trip osi ‘We don’t just use the intestines for stuffing sausage and boudin, we eat the intestines, too.’ 6 . FV first translated the sentence using the short form, but switched to the long form when I asked him to repeat it. It may be that the long form is preferred for emphasis, which would help to explain why it seems to be especially frequent in utterances elicited by means of a translation questionnaire. 7. Given the forms ouv and ouvri, the form ouvè could be analyzed as a long form of the former or a short form of the latter. 8 . See below for a description of the preverbal tense and aspect markers. 9. As in Breaux Bridge, the short form ga appears to be restricted to the imperative (Neumann 1985a, 189). 10. I recorded one instance of the form sapèl (cf. the French reflexive verb S’APPELER), but in a context where it did not have a reflexive meaning: Mo pa kònè kòmon vou z——to sapèl sa dan kreyòl (GS) ‘I don’t know how you call that in Creole.’ 11. My corpus also contains one occurrence of plan* (ID): kan nou te plan nou mayi nou te kase li (ID) ‘When we planted our corn we picked it.’ 12. I have also noted the form tonb. 13. This rule also applies to most verbs ending in -i that have a short form: dòrmi/dòr, sòrti/sòr, kouvri* (FL)/kouv* (FL) (see below).

14. Also rete, ret 15. As the form chache illustrates, however, there is a strong tendency for postvocalic r to be weakened or even deleted: pale, tounen. 16 . Neumann (1985a, 192) notes only the long form in Breaux Bridge. 17. FV uses the form pèdi in his translation of the sentence ‘He got lost in the woods’ li te pèdi dan mbwa. However, he later translated the same sentence using the more common form, pèd: li te pèd dan mbwa. 18. In Breaux Bridge the forms krouvi and ouvri are used only by mesolectal speakers (Neumann 1985a, 190). In Pointe Coupee they are common among basilectal speakers, as well. 19. The pair tòn/tonde is also used. 20. My corpus contains one instance of vonnd* (ID): La tè, bondjeu te met sa pa pou vonnd, sè te pou dòn pòv mounn-ye (ID) ‘God didn’t create land in order to be sold, it was to give to the poor people.’ 21. The exception is the verb for ‘continue,’ which is kontine, kontigne in Breaux Bridge; my corpus contains many variant forms of this verb (see Glossary). 22. The form fèt occurs occasionally, mainly among speakers of the secondary group: Nenpòt-ki ki gen pou èt fèt mo fe li (MP) ‘Whatever needs to be done, I do it’; to fèt œn chviy (FN) ‘you make a dowel’; gen dè lèvye li lèv le roulo, sa-ki kraz le konn la… pou fèt duju sòrti (LD) ‘There’s a (?) lever that lifts the rollers, those (things) that crush the cane to make the juice come out’; mo pa fèt konmprann sa enon (FV) ‘I can’t understand what’s wrong.’

23. Ole occasionally loses its final vowel before a following vowel: mo p ol aryen pase en lasyè’t manje (FV) ‘I don’t want anything but a plate of food.’ 24. The form asit is also common, but this is purely a phonetic variant and not a long form in the same sense that the verbs in 6.1.2.2.1 have long and short forms whose distribution is linked in some way to grammatical context. 25. Note the fixed expressions an dire (var.) ‘it seems (as if),’ as well as LD’s use of anon dizon instead of the usual anon di ‘let’s say, let’s suppose.’ 26. The form lir is not uncommon. The realization of a final -r in the other verbs that normally end in -i is extremely rare, however. 27. The forms mò, mòr are rare. 28. Reflexes of Fr. GAGNER in the meaning of ‘have’ (the verb in modern Standard French means ‘win, earn’) are found in the creoles of Haiti and Guiana, as well as in those of the Indian Ocean (see, for example, Goodman 1964, 66–68, who also examines the phonetic development of the word in various Creoles). This meaning is well attested in Old French and in French dialects (see Chaudenson 1974, 768–70). In the Lesser Antilles tini, ni (< Fr. TENIR) is used in the meaning of’have.’ Nineteenth-century texts in Louisiana Creole show a long form genyen that is much more common than the short form gen (see Neumann-Holz-schuh 1987, 19), but today only the short form is used in Louisiana (though ganyen exists in the meaning of ‘win, gain, earn’). I noted the form geny in the speech of a single speaker; otherwise the only form attested in Pointe Coupee is gen. 29. This verb has a long form ending in -n in Breaux Bridge (Neumann 1985a, 191). In Pointe Coupee, a long form occurs mainly among members of the secondary group. 30. The verb tire is also used in this meaning.

31. A long form dònè, done appears only rarely in my corpus. 32. A long form travaye did occur three times in my corpus but only among speakers of the secondary group. Jarreau (1931, 17b) also notes a long and a short form in Pointe Coupee: [li m ʒe pl ase pu dine e supe e k li fini f mla di li ke li t t pu li va travaje o n li rep n mo travaj pa apre supe madam] ‘He ate plenty for dinner and supper, and when he had finished the woman told him that it was time for him to go to work. "Oh, no," he replied, "I don’t work after supper, ma’am."’ A long form for this verb is also attested in Breaux Bridge and in Mon Louis Island, Alabama (Neumann 1985a, 210, n. 3, 480; Marshall 1991). 33. Hall ([1953] 1969, 30) states that "bay ‘give’ may lose its final -y when followed by a pronominal complement" and that ale, konne, mete, pòte, rete, wete (’take off’),fini, sòti, and vini "optionally lose their final vowel before a following non-pronominal complement." 34 . For example, short forms are highly favored before a noun phrase or a second verb, while long forms are more common when the verb is followed by an interrogative clause. Baker (1972, 98), however, formulates a more categorical rule according to which "Variable verbs always adopt their short form when immediately followed by an NP and their long form when they occur predicatefinally or are immediately followed by a time adverbial." 35 . I have only briefly summarized the broad outlines of the use of long and short verb forms in the Indian Ocean Creoles. For further information, see Bollée (1977, 28–33), Chaudenson (1974, 330–32), Corne (1977, 73–93), and Papen (1978, 131–41, 405–28). 36 . Given the great variation in the use of long and short forms described in 6.1.2.1, it is often impossible to know whether a verb unaccompanied by a preverbal marker or by an adverb that clearly sets the temporal frame is intended to be past or present. Recourse to English translation is of only limited use here, because in the usage of most Creole speakers, many English verbs do not have

distinct past and present forms (e.g., "I come," past or present; "I pick cotton," past or present). 37. Lane (1935, 14), Broussard (1942, 23), and Neumann (1985a, 203–204) also note this function of te. 38 . See Perret (1933, 6–7), Lane (1935, 13), Broussard (1942, 22– 23), and Morgan (1959, 24b). 39. The form e is attested in three Louisiana State University master’s theses on Louisiana Creole. Lavergne (1930) and Jarreau (1931) state explicitly that their material comes from Pointe Coupee. Perret (1933) does not reveal where his data come from, but the fact that he notes the progressive marker e suggests that at least some of it comes from Pointe Coupee. Examples of e found in these theses include: [ a kek n ki e pele mw ] ‘There’s someone who is calling me’ (Jarreau 1931, 44b); [pɑ lap sel te pɑ e fe preparɑsj ] ‘Br’er Rabbit alone was not getting ready (lit., making preparations)’; [o mo pɑ e s ti mo m m b di tu] ‘Oh, I’m not feeling well at all’ (Jarreau 1931, 55b); [Lap ele, ‘fije me vini uvri lɑpɔt’] ‘Rabbit cried, "Girls, I’m coming, open the door!’" (Lavergne 1930, 4) (my translations). 40. Most of the members of the primary group I spoke with who do use ape are residents of the Island, where contact between blacks and whites seems to have been more intensive than on the west bank of False River (see Chap. 3). 41. Fe mal also occurs in the present without the progressive marker. 42. As Valdman (1978, 217) notes, the Haitian Creole progressive marker [ap] may also have this function: "Ap can also assume a prospective value and, in the presence of appropriate contextual indications, has the value of a futur proche… : L ap rantrè dè men ‘He’s coming back tomorrow’" (my translation). Ape also has this function in Breaux Bridge (Neumann 1985a, 213). See 6.2.8.

43. In all of my attestations of e with a future meaning in affirmative sentences, it precedes the verb kouri, kou. In two of the examples provided here, this verb seems to function as a full (as opposed to auxiliary) verb with the meaning ‘go.’ In this sentence, however, kou could be interpreted either as an auxiliary or a full verb. If it is an auxiliary, both e and kou contribute to the future meaning of the sentence. 44. The use of pa + progressive marker to express the future negative is a feature shared by other French-lexifier creoles of the Caribbean Basin, including Haitian and earlier Guianese (see, for example, Spears 1990, 125; Hall [1953] 1969, 65; Schlupp 1997, 102). The combination va pa as future negative occurred twice in Neumann’s Breaux Bridge corpus and was also used in some nineteenth-century texts. The typical expression of the future negative in Breaux Bridge Creole is by means of pa + ale, which does not occur in my corpus (Neumann 1985a, 215). 45. For the use of the future marker a to express hypothetical actions, see 6.2.5. 46. This is the only example in my corpus in which a precedes an adjective. Sa is the usual future marker before adjectives. 47. Because the progressive marker e in combination with the verb viv expresses a state (that of being alive), here, as in all the other examples, sa serves to express a future state. 48. LD, who had extensive contact with Cajun speakers in Bayou Lafourche, used a number of French-like forms very untypical of the Creole spoken by the primary group (e.g., the French 1 sg. pronoun JE). The most marked of these forms typically occurred at the very beginning of our conversations but were abandoned after a few minutes. This suggests that LD was making an initial attempt to use the most prestigious type of French he knew but was unable or simply chose not to sustain the effort. 49. The usual verb for ‘go’ is kouri.

50. My corpus contains no examples in which se appears in the clause introduced by si (protasis) and te appears in the result, or main, clause (apodosis). The examples of te and se occurring in the same sentence are too few to draw any conclusions from this fact, however. Neumann (1985a, 318) notes examples of se and te in either clause. 51 . Here FV is recounting stories that his grandmother told him about slavery. 52 . For reflexes of ‘been’ as anterior markers in the English-lexifier Creoles, see Holm (1989, 407). 53. As noted in 6.2.4, ape expresses inchoative aspect with the adjectives choke ‘angry’ and fatige ‘tired’ in the Creole of Breaux Bridge. 54. Depending on context, te + a(va) can, like te + ap, also express future in the past (DeGraff forthcoming, sec. 6). 55 . An exception is narrative contexts, where ft is not obligatory once the past context has been established. See 6.2.1 for discussion of a similar situation in Louisiana and other Creoles. 56. In his discussion of future tense, Baissac (1880, 24) notes only the constructions with pour and va; he does not mention the variants a and ava. 57. Corne (Baker and Corne 1982, 18–21) suggests an origin for i in the relative pronoun ki (qui) of the structure Subject + Copula ‘be’ + ki + Verb, found, for example, in the French of St. Thomas and St. Barth: j’ètè ki vènè ‘I was coming (i.e., en route).’ Papen (1978, 386) cites a passage from the earliest recorded text in Reunion Creole in support of this notion: Moin la parti marron parce qu’Alexis I’homme de jardin l’ètait qui fait à moin trop l’amour ‘I ran away because Alexis the gardener was trying too much to seduce me (?)’ (my translation).

58. Although Ehrhart (1993, 161) calls this a "preverbal marker of progressive aspect," it might just as easily be analyzed as an adverbial expression. As explained below, atra de is not required for the expression of progressive aspect, and in the examples of atra de that Ehrhart provides, the progressive nature of the action seems to be highlighted. 59. Fini is an older form that is being replaced by dcha among younger speakers (1993, 164). These same speakers also make use of (e)te to express past tense. 60 . Note that this meaning would require a progressive marker in the other Creoles we have examined, with the exception of Reunion Creole. Thus in Tayo, as in Reunion Creole and in French, progressive meaning appears to be "inherent in the Present tense" (Baker and Corne 1982, 23). 61 . The criteria are those established by Valdman (1978, 223). I have not followed this author in trying to distinguish between auxiliaries and semi-auxiliaries. 62. In this example and the two following ones, ka expresses the notion of permission, a function that is reserved for pe in Breaux Bridge (Neumann 1985a, 226). 63. In contrast, Neumann (1985a, 223) notes that in Breaux Bridge pe occurs somewhat more frequently than kapab. The semantic distinctions she draws between the two verbs are not clearly discernible in my data. 64. Neumann (1985a, 232) analyzes vepa/veupa as a negative verb in basilectal Creole. 65. The form u is attested in other contexts, as well. It occurs mainly among speakers of the secondary group (see 3.5), but I have also noted it occasionally among the primary group. In this example, u is used in conjunction with te: Mo te gen de garson.… Lòt-la trouve tchouwè. En WRECK d AUTOMOBILE. Te u vent an (AS) ‘I had two

sons. The other one was killed (in) a car wreck. (He) was [lit., had] twenty years old.’ Another reflex of French avoir that is attested among these speakers is ave: Tou me katèn ave en non (MP) ‘All of my dolls had a name.’ Even for most speakers of the secondary group, however, gen is the most common form of the verb ‘to have’ in all tenses. 66 . Neumann (1985a, 231 n. 1) is probably right to suggest that it is an English calque. 67. For this meaning Neumann (1985a, 237) notes only the form fomye in Breaux Bridge, which she traces to a French dialectal equivalent of IL VAUT MIEUX.Fe-mye, on the other hand, most likely comes from the French JE FERAIS (TU FERAIS, IL FERAIT, etc.) MIEUXDE. 68. For fin as semi-auxiliary or preverbal marker in other Frenchlexifier creoles, see 6.2.8. 69. FV spontaneously offered the following English version of this sentence, in which fini konnen is translated literally: ‘I was just talking about you and then when you finish know, here you come.’ I am unfamiliar with the expression ‘finish know’ in English and assume that it is a Creole calque. Fini konnen is possibly related to vini kone ‘discover, find out,’ which is found in Fortier (1895, 84–85) and is also noted by Neumann in Breaux Bridge (1985a, 270). 70 . [kãtĩnĩ]. 71. See Damoiseau (1987, 99–104) for an insightful analysis of the differences between copulative and presentative se that also interprets the se of se te as a presentative. 72. The interpretation of se as presentative imposes itself when there is a clear pause between the subject and se, but especially in rapid speech, lack of a clear pause cannot by itself rule out such an interpretation. On this problem, see also Damoiseau (1987, 105 n. 13), who, noting the difficulty of determining the length or even the

existence of a pause, declines to use it as a criterion for distinguishing between copulative and presentative se. 73 . The same is true in the creoles of Haiti and Martinique. See 6.5.6. 74. Directly after uttering this translation, ML reprised with Mwe se pa en rekoltè, in which the form of the pronoun clearly shows that it has been topicalized and, consequently, that se is a presentative. 75. Neumann (1985a, 249) also bases her analysis on the fact that the preverbal markers sa and se, which do not co-occur with copulative se, do appear in combination with se in these constructions. My data contain no such examples. See also Bernabé (1983, 1320–27) and Damoiseau (1987, 99–104) for the distinction between copulative and presentative se in Martinican and Haitian, respectively. 76. Ye is not obligatory in interrogatives with aou and a noun subject: aou to madanm? (NH) ‘Where’s your wife?’ The same is true in Breaux Bridge (Neumann 1985a, 250). 77. For the copula èt in Martinican and Guadeloupean, see Bernabé (1983, 1327–34). 78. Vini also has this meaning in the other French-lexifier creoles. See for example Valdman, Pooser, and Jean-Baptiste (1996, 33); Bernabé (1983, 1041, 1360–61); Taylor (1968, 1035); Mondesir and Carrington (1992, 279); Saint Jacques Fauquenoy (1972, 104); Schlupp (1997, 275–78); Tobler (1983, 45, 90, 115); Baker (1972, 99, 101, 104); Baker and Hookoomsing (1987, 334); Papen (1978, 403); Chaudenson (1974, 887); Corne (1977, 63–64); Bollèe (1977, 29, 65). In Tayo, however, ‘become’ is devya (Ehrhart 1993, 172). 79. UN is an elderly black male whose mother spoke Creole fluently. His own speaking ability in Creole is very limited, however. The actual pronunciation of lœ was something like [lœɔ], where the lightly

pronounced [ɔ] represents the trace of the velar fricative [ ], which was the way UN typically realized this liquid. 80. In Guadeloupean Creole the presentative takes the form a in the negative (Bernabé 1983, 1325). 81. The analysis of ye as copula is not universally accepted. See, for example, DeGraff (forthcoming, sec. 12.5). 82. Fika comes from Portuguese ficar ‘stay’ (Schlupp 1997, 183; Goodman 1964, 59 n. 60; Saint Jacques Fauquenoy 1972, 134). 83. There is an important distinction between stative predicates that are considered to be "generally true" (which are exemplified here) and those that "have become true." The latter, which Corne qualifies as [-durative], take the completive marker n (allomorph of fin): Lion i dir li, i n ler pour li antre ‘Lion says to him (that) it is time (the hour) for him to go in’ (1977, 61–62; see also Baker and Corne 1982, 36– 37). 84 . Corne, however, rejects this analysis and proposes an alternative one according to which there is no copula in the Ile-deFrance creoles (Baker and Corne 1982, 33–40). 85 . The expression "to call oneself X," meaning ‘to claim that one is X’ (with the clear implication that the claim is dubious), is common in the English of the region. 86. Tèt may be used in place of kò: Li rale tèt li nan goumen an ‘He pulled himself out of the fight’ (DeGraff forthcoming, sec.17.7). 87. Note that unlike Louisiana Creole and several of the Caribbean creoles, leve takes a reflexive pronoun in Guianese. 88. Bollée (1977, 65), however, says that the verb apel(e) is rarely used in a reflexive construction.

89. In Rodrigues Creole, so lavi may be used in place of so lekor: Li debat ek so lavi ‘He tries to save himself (Papen 1978, 398). Although Papen does not say so explicitly, lavi appears to be restricted to the third person singular. 90 . Faine (1936, 109) claims that this reflexive structure is characteristic of the more refined creole of the city ("le créole quelque peu affiné, parlé dans les villes"). 91 . Neither Bernabé (1983, 918–20) nor Damoiseau (1984, 92) mentions this construction in Martinican Creole. 92. The descriptions I consulted of the creoles of Martinique, St. Lucia, Dominica, Trinidad, as well as of Karipúna Creole, mentioned only the reflexive structure with kò (see Damoiseau 1984, 92; Bernabé 1983, 918–20; Carrington 1984, 73–74; Taylor 1968, 1034; Hancock 1985; and Tobler 1983, 84). Tobler (1983, 84) does, however, mention a structure with Pronoun + mem following the preposition pou: Mo achte-lpou mo mém ‘I bought it for myself.’ 93. The replacement of the initial l of lak by z in dan le z ak is best interpreted as a hypercorrection. Since the status of z is uncertain, I represent it as a separate unit. 94 . In the English of many residents of southern Louisiana, including non-Creole speakers, the expression ‘they have, they got’ regularly replaces Standard English ‘there is/are’ in an existential function: "They have juice in the refrigerator" means "There is juice in the refrigerator." 95. A Creole speaker from Parks (on Bayou Teche near Breaux Bridge) did not recognize constructions of the type se… li…, but noted instead the frequent use in that region of structures of the type li… li… and se… se…: Li malen li malen ‘He’s really sly,’ Li fou li fou ‘He’s really crazy,’ Se gro se gro ‘That’s (He’s) really fat,’ Sefòl sefòl ‘She’s really crazy,’ Li malad li malad ‘He’s really sick,’ Li gen toupe li gen toupe ‘He’s really got a lot of nerve’ (Stephen Dugas, personal communication).

96. The example and translation are taken from the En Creole column in the Pointe Coupee Banner of October 6, 1994 (p. 2). According to the author (Brian Costello, personal communication) and other sources, expressions like "That’s swollen he’s swollen," "He’s swollen for swollen," and "That’s trouble for trouble" are common in the English of the region. The other examples are also from Brian Costello, who learned Creole from his grandmother. 97. My corpus does not contain the variant fodre, and fale occurs only in the speech of whites (cf. Neumann 1985a, 273). The variant fo, without initial i, is heard only rarely in Pointe Coupee. 98. It is possible that the i, which I have interpreted as part of the impersonal verb ifomye in this example, is in fact the 3 sg. masc. pronoun ‘he’: i fo-mye kite sa trankin. 99 . See, for example, Valdman (1978, 227–31) and Holm (1988, 183–90). For examples and analysis of serial verbs in other Frenchlexifier creoles, see Faine (1938, 149), DeGraff (forthcoming, sec. 14), Bernabè (1983, 1273–1305), Carrington (1984, 108–109), Hancock (1985, 34), Saint Jacques Fauquenoy (1972, 87). See also the section on auxiliary verbs in Schlupp (1997, 275–305) for some serial-like constructions. 100. I recorded only one instance of the serial construction kouri vini, which Neumann notes as one of only two lexicalized serial constructions in Breaux Bridge. The other one she notes is vini kone, which does not appear in my corpus (but see 6.3 for the combination fini konnen). 101. While I found no attestations of mennen sòti in other creoles, combinations involving mennen and other verbs are common: Haitian mennen ale ‘take away, kill, return, bring back,’ mennen bay ‘bring to,’ mennen tounen ‘take back,’ mennen vini ‘bring forth, bring along, bring back, return’ (Freeman and Laguerre 1998, 409); Guadeloupean méné-vini ‘bring,’ méné-alè ‘take’ (Ludwig et al. 1990, 227; see also Bernabé 1983, 1299); Guadeloupean/ Martinican menné/mennen viré ‘bring back’ (Bernabé 1983, 1299); Grenadian

mèné sòti ‘bring out’ (Roberts 1971, cited in Valdman 1978, 229); Guianese menen-ale ‘take,’ menen-viré ‘bring back’ (Saint Jacques Fauquenoy 1972, 87). 102 . My data for the second person plural imperative are insufficient to determine whether or not there are differences between the singular and plural. A few of the examples here were uttered in a context that made it impossible to tell whether the subject was plural or singular. The subject of most of the examples is singular, however. 103. The placement of pa after va is probably related to this verb’s relatively mesolectal status. 104. The variant alon, which Neumann (1985a, 278) notes in Breaux Bridge, does not appear in my corpus. Nor does the form anou, which she found in Pointe Coupee, appear (1985a, 278 n. 1). 105. This is my translation of Neumann’s (1985a, 328) term exhortatif positif. 106 . See Neumann (1985a, 279–80) and especially Corne and Neumann (1984) for a discussion of this construction in Breaux Bridge. 107. For a similar use of this verb in Haitian Creole, see Valdman (1978, 226), who classifies it as a semi-auxiliary. Neumann (1985a, 282) and Neumann and Corne (1984, 78) also note trouve in this function in Breaux Bridge and suggest that it is of Haitian origin. 108. The function of y here is unclear. It may simply be a transitional semiconsonant between the final [i] of the preceding pronoun li and the [ε] of the following verb ète. 109. Comparative structures with pase alternate with more Frenchlike structures involving pli(s) (and more rarely mwens) + ki/ke in all of the Caribbean French-lexifier creoles; comparatives with pase do not occur in the Indian Ocean creoles or in Tayo. For pase in the Caribbean creoles, see DeGraff (forthcoming, sec. 12.6), Valdman,

Pooser, and Jean-Baptiste (1996, xxvii), Bernabé (1983, 1006–12), Carrington (1984, 143–44), Saint Jacques Fauquenoy (1972, 103), Hancock (1985, 34), and Tobler (1983, 113–14). For a survey of parallel constructions in other Atlantic creoles and a discussion of possible African models, see Holm (1988, 188–89). 110. I noted a single example of plus dè + noun: plus dè blan kè koulæ (LD) ‘more whites than blacks.’ 111. Bollée (1977, 64–65) found no reflex of MOINS QUE in Seychelles Creole, and Ehrhart (1993, 148) noted that mwa ke was rejected by most speakers of Tayo she interviewed. However, Neumann (1985a, 148) did find mwens ke in Breaux Bridge. 112. In Breaux Bridge the position of pa with konnen is variable (Neumann 1985a, 320). Neumann (1985a, 324) also notes that pa always precedes the auxiliaries blije ‘have to, must,’ sorti ‘just (have done something),’ and fini ‘finish.’ My corpus contains no data on the auxiliaries blije and sorti used in the negative. 113. In Breaux Bridge the marker of the future in the negative is ale (Neumann 1985a, 323). 114. But note this exception in which pa, which accompanies pærsòn used as subject of the clause, follows the long verb form parle: Kan nouzòt nou ne, pærsòn parle pa langle (MP) ‘When we were born, no one spoke English.’ 115. Neumann (1985a, 330) notes considerable variation in the placement of janmen in Breaux Bridge. 116. Jarreau (1931, 43b) contains an example of nil pa ‘(not) anywhere’: [je te pe pa truve li nil pa] ‘They couldn’t find him anywhere.’ 117. The m in ye te gen m pran mon … is probably the trace of the preposition pou, which became p through loss of its vowel and m under the influence of the preceding nasal vowel.

118. Note that ki plas is not the common term for ‘where,’ which is normally rendered by the adverb ao or one of its variants, as seen at the beginning of this sample sentence. 119 . This is an exceptional example in which the interrogative Adverb + Noun does not occur in sentence-initial position but instead follows the subject as in declarative structures. 120 . In the English of south Louisiana, the expression "to make" is commonly used with age. Thus this sentence might be rendered "I’ll make sixty-five next month." 121. dò-chò < dòt-chòz ‘anything else.’ 122. Tann, atan is the usual verb for ‘wait’ in Pointe Coupee. I did, however, record èspere, èspèr, spè in this meaning among three speakers of the secondary group (FE, KN, and LD). Both verbs are attested in Breaux Bridge (Neumann 1985a, 209, 269). 123. This is used only on the Island. On the west bank of False River djis (var.) is used instead. 124 . For a more thorough treatment of complements with and without prepositions, see Neumann (1985a, 298–300). 125. In general, d follows kou whenever an instrument is specified: ka to voye li en kou d la hach (AS) ‘when you strike it with the ax’; to dòn li de kou d chari (AS) ‘You go over it twice with the plow.’ 126. In basilectal Creole this would be more likely to take the form èn dan so fiy-ye. 127. Here the actual pronunciation of kote was something like [k’te], where the vowel [o] is dropped but the [k] is strongly aspirated. 128. Note that ID alternates between the use of kan and tan. She was the only speaker to use tan in this meaning. 1 . I have replaced family names with initials.

2. KS uses the expression i se frequently to introduce a report of what another person said. As best I can tell, it represents a Creole pronunciation of ‘he say.’ 3. [sĩlj ] < san ye (pe trouve li) ‘without their (being able to find it)’? 4 . In fact, NF stumbles over this word, not pronouncing it as distinctly as the transcription would suggest. 5. The pronounciation yetenn rather than yetchenn or yekenn is probably just a slip of the tongue. 6 . The stress is on the second syllable, but the articulatory tension is more typical of English pronunciation than Creole. The [r] appears to be apical but is only weakly articulated. 7. Although I have translated z / lavoka as ‘lawyers,’ it more likely means simply ‘intelligent.’ 8. The vowel of peu is only slightly rounded. 9 . YC is quoting her mother, who did not approve of schooling for YC and her siblings. 10. It is not clear to me here whether la kou means ‘yard’ or ‘farmyard.’ 11. The noun phrase madonm blan la could mean either ‘the white man’s wife’ or ‘the white lady.’ 12 . In fact, ME very often nasalized the vowel: [kûm]. 13. As noted in 5.2.2, in Haitian Creole postposed [la] systematically becomes [a] after an oral vowel and [ ] after a nasal vowel. 14. For the use of the future marker a to describe past actions that are also likely to occur in the future, see 6.2.5.

15 . ME’s pronunciation of this word various between [krejɔl] and [krijɔl]. The /r/ is rarely apical in the word but only vaguely present as a slight uvular or velar articulation. 16 . ME’s precise meaning here is not entirely clear to me. She appears to be talking about relatives of hers who have done genealogical research on the family and discovered white ancestors once they went back far enough. 17. òrnen appears to be a reflex of Fr. hormis ‘unless.’ 18. ME probably intends to say nou / no te but reverses the vowels. 19. The function of ζ here is unclear. It could be the trace of the possessive determiner which has undergone apocope and voicing of its consonant before the [1] of lwaye. 20. The semiconsonant in gradue is intermediate between [u] and [w]. 21 . It is likely that MP is referring to the type of Cajun French spoken by former residents of Avoyelles Parish who settled in Morganza and other parts of northern Pointe Coupee Parish (see 3.6). 22 . Pronounced [mitin], with stress on the second syllable. 23. This is an unusual instance where the mid vowel of the marker ape is rounded [φ]. 24 . The final vowel of this word appears to be intermediate in height between [i] and [e]. 25. Rek is pronounced with an apical [r] and a high, undiphthongized [e]. 1. I have made exceptions in the case of a few items for which the use of the high-mid or low-mid vowel seems to have some

pertinence. An example is the presentative verb se, sè, since the variant with the low-mid vowel seems to be preferred before te. 2. The abbreviation is used for a few verbs, such as aksèpte ‘accept’ and benyen ‘bathe,’ that can almost certainly take a direct object but are only attested intransitively in my corpus.

Table of contents 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.

If I Could Turn My Tongue Like That IF I COULD TURN MY TONGUE Like That Contents Tables Acknowledgments Abbreviations and Symbols Introduction PART I Sociohistorical Background Chapter 1 Colonial Louisiana 1. 1.1 Exploration and Early Settlement of Louisiana 2. 1.2 Slaves 3. 1.3 Economic Activity and Social Relations 4. 1.4 Population Growth in the Spanish Period 1. 1.4.1 EUROPEANS 2. 1.4.2 RE-AFRICANIZATION UNDER SPANISH RULE 3. 1.4.3 GEOGRAPHIC DISTRIBUTION OF THE SLAVE POPULATION 5. Conclusion 1. Table 2: Ratio of Slaves to Free Persons, 1731–1788 10. Chapter 2 The Development of Louisiana Creole 1. 2.1 Evidence from Early Texts 1. ANALYSIS 2. 2.2 The Creolization Process 3. 2.3 The Question of African Influence on Louisiana Creole 4. 2.4 The Question of Multiple Geneses of Louisiana Creole58 1. The Argument for Separate Origins 1. Demographic Evidence 2. Linguistic Evidence 3. Linguistic Evidence 5. Conclusion 11. Chapter 3 Pointe Coupee Parish

1. 3.1 The Setting 2. 3.2 Exploration and Early Settlement 1. The Colonists 3. 3.3 Development of a Plantation Economy and Growth of the Slave Population 4. 3.4 Americanization 5. 3.5 Creole Among Whites 1. Characteristic Features of the Creole Spoken by Whites 2. Phonology 3. Morphosyntax 1. The Noun Phrase 4. The Verb Phrase 6. 3.6 The Dominance of English in the Post-War Period 1. 3.6.1 THE MECHANIZATION OF AGRICULTURE 2. 3.6.2 EDUCATION39 7. 3.7 Louisiana Creole in a Broader Francophone Context 8. 3.8 Creole and English in Pointe Coupee 9. 3.9 The Effects of Language Loss 10. Conclusion 12. PART II Grammatical Description 13. Chapter 4 Preliminaries 1. 4.1 Methodology 2. 4.2 Speakers Consulted for the Study 1. Table 10: Creole Speakers Consulted for the Study 3. 4.3 English Words 4. 4.4 The Phonological System of Louisiana Creole and the Notation of Creole Sounds 1. 4.4.1 CONSONANTS 2. 4.4.2 SEMICONSONANTS 3. 4.4.3 VOWELS 5. Contextual Nasalization 6. Problems in Representing Nasal Vowels 7. 4.5 The Division of Lexical Units 8. Agglutinated Nouns 9. Compounds

10. 4.6 Editing of Transcribed Speech 11. 4.7 Descriptive Framework 14. Chapter 5 The Noun Phrase 1. 5.1 Nouns 1. 5.1.1 NOUNS WITH AN AGGLUTINATED ELEMENT 1. 5.1.1.1 GROUP 1: l-, n-, z2. 5.1.1.2 GROUP 2: la-,6 le3. 5.1.1.3 GROUP 3: di-, du- and de-, dez2. 5.1.2 UNAGGLUTINATED NOUNS 3. 5.1.3 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF AGGLUTINATION 4. 5.1.4 GENDER 5. 5.1.5 NUMBER 2. 5.2 Determiners 1. 5.2.1 INDEFINITE DETERMINERS 2. 5.2.2 DEFINITE DETERMINERS 1. 5.2.2.1 FUNCTIONS OF THE DETERMINERS 1. 5.2.2.1.1 The Marking of Specificity 2. 5.2.2.1.2 Deictic Properties of the Definite Determiners 2. 5.2.2.2 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF DEFINITE/DEICTIC DETERMINERS34 1. Table 12: Definite Determiners (Simplified Summary) 3. 5.2.3 DEMONSTRATIVE DETERMINERS 1. 5.2.3.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF DEMONSTRATIVE DETERMINERS 1. Table 13: Demonstrative Determiners 4. 5.2.4 POSSESSIVE DETERMINERS 5. Other Possessive Constructions 1. 5.2.4.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF POSSESSIVE DETERMINERS 1. Table 14: Possessive Determiners (Singular Forms Only) 6. 5.2.5 QUANTIFYING DETERMINERS tou ‘all, every’

7. 5.2.6 CARDINAL NUMBERS 3. 5.3 Adjectives 1. 5.3.1 PRENOMINAL ADJECTIVES 1. 5.3.1.1 DESCRIPTIVE ADJECTIVES 2. 5.3.1.2 INDEFINITE ADJECTIVES 3. 5.3.1.3 ORDINAL NUMBERS 2. 5.3.2 POSTNOMINAL ADJECTIVES 4. 5.4 Pronouns 1. 5.4.1 PERSONAL PRONOUNS 2. Gender 3. Morphophonological Processes 1. 5.4.1.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF PERSONAL PRONOUNS 4. 5.4.2 POSSESSIVE PRONOUNS 1. Table 15: Subject Personal Pronouns 2. Table 16: Nonsubject Personal Pronouns 3. 5.4.2.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF POSSESSIVE PRONOUNS 1. Table 17: Summary of Possessive Pronouns (Singular Forms Only) 5. 5.4.3 DEMONSTRATIVE PRONOUNS 6. 5.4.4 INDEFINITE PRONOUNS 1. Table 18: Demonstrative Pronouns 7. 5.4.5 RELATIVE PRONOUNS 1. 5.4.5.1 RELATIVE CLAUSES WITH EXPLICIT ANTECEDENTS 2. 5.4.5.2 RELATIVE CLAUSES WITH NO EXPLICIT ANTECEDENT 3. 5.4.5.3 RELATIVIZED PREPOSITIONAL OBJECTS 4. 5.4.5.4 RELATIVIZATION OF NOUNS OF PLACE 5. 5.4.5.5 RELATIVIZATION OF NOUNS OF TIME 6. 5.4.5.6 GENITIVE RELATIVE CLAUSES

15. Chapter 6 The Verb Phrase 1. 6.1 Verb Morphology 1. 6.1.1 DIACHRONIC AND REGIONAL COMPARISONS 2. 6.1.2 VERBS IN POINTE COUPEE 1. 6.1.2.1 THE DISTRIBUTION OF LONG AND SHORT FORMS IN POINTE COUPEE 2. 6.1.2.2 VERB FORMS 1. 6.1.2.2.1 Verbs with Multiple Forms 2. 6.1.2.2.2 Verbs with a Single Form 3. 6.1.3 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF LONG AND SHORT VERB FORMS 2. 6.2 Preverbal Markers of Tense, Mood, and Aspect 1. 6.2.1 A NOTE CONCERNING GRAMMATICAL TENSE 2. 6.2.2 MARKED AND UNMARKED VERBS 3. 6.2.3 THE ANTERIOR MARKER TE 4. 6.2.4 THE PROGRESSIVE MARKERS E AND APE, AP 5. 6.2.5 THE FUTURE MARKERS A AND SA 6. 6.2.6 THE CONDITIONAL MARKER SE 7. 6.2.7 THE MARKER BIN 8. 6.2.8 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF PREVERBAL MARKERS 3. 6.3 Auxiliary Verbs 4. 6.4 Causative Constructions 5. 6.5 The Copula 1. 6.5.1 ZERO-COPULA STRUCTURES 2. 6.5.2 SE 1. 6.5.2.1 SE AS COPULA 2. 6.5.2.2 PRESENTATIVE SE 3. 6.5.3 THE COPULA YE 4. 6.5.4 THE COPULA ÈT, ETE (RARE) 5. 6.5.5 OTHER COPULATIVE VERBS 6. 6.5.6 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF THE COPULA 6. 6.6 Reflexive Verbs 1. 6.6.1 A CROSS-CREOLE COMPARISON OF REFLEXIVE VERBS

16. 17. 18. 19. 20.

21.

7. 6.7 Impersonal Expressions 1. 6.7.1 EXISTENTIAL EXPRESSIONS 2. 6.7.2 OTHER IMPERSONAL EXPRESSIONS 8. 6.8 Verbs in Serial-like Constructions 9. 6.9 The Imperative 10. 6.10 The Passive 11. 6.11 Comparison 1. 6.11.1 EXPRESSION OF INEQUALITY 2. 6.11.2 EQUALITY 12. 6.12 Negation 13. 6.13 Interrogative Structures 1. 6.13.1 YES-OR-NO QUESTIONS 2. 6.13.2 PARTIAL QUESTIONS 1. 6.13.2.1 INTERROGATIVE PRONOUNS 2. 6.13.2.2 THE INTERROGATIVE ADJECTIVE KI ‘WHAT, WHICH’ 3. 6.13.2.3 INTERROGATIVE WORDS AS OBJECTS OF PREPOSITIONS 4. 6.13.2.4 INTERROGATIVE ADVERBS 14. 6.14 Adverbs 1. 6.14.1 ADVERBS OF TIME 6.14.2 ADVERBS OF PLACE 6.14.3 ADVERBS OF MANNER 6.14.4 ADVERBS OF DEGREE, QUANTITY 6.14.5 INTERROGATIVE ADVERBS (SEE 6.13.2.4) 6.14.6 NEGATIVE ADVERBS (SEE 6.12) 6.14.7 OTHER ADVERBS 6.15 Prepositions 1. 6.15.1 CIRCUMSTANTIAL COMPLEMENTS NOT INTRODUCED BY A PREPOSITION 2. 6.15.2 THE PREPOSITION D, DÈ (VAR.) 3. 6.15.3 PREPOSITIONS OF TIME 4. 6.15.4 PLACE, DIRECTION, SITUATION 5. 6.15.5 MANNER, ATTRIBUTION, MOTIVE 6. 6.15.6 CAUSE, ORIGIN 7. 6.15.7 OPPOSITION, SEPARATION, EXCEPTION 8. 6.15.8 UNION, CONFORMITY 6.16 Conjunctions

22. 23.

24. 25. 26. 27. 28.

1. 6.16.1 COORDINATING CONJUNCTIONS 2. 6.16.2 SUBORDINATING CONJUNCTIONS 1. 6.16.2.1 SUBORDINATION WITHOUT CONJUNCTIONS 2. 6.16.2.2 SUBORDINATION WITH KE (VAR.), KI (RARE) ‘THAT’ 3. 6.16.2.3 CONJUNCTIONS OF TIME 4. 6.16.2.4 CONJUNCTIONS OF CAUSE 5. 6.16.2.5 CONJUNCTION OF GOAL OR PURPOSE 6. 6.16.2.6 CONJUNCTIONS OF CONCESSION 7. 6.16.2.7 CONJUNCTIONS OF CONDITION 8. 6.16.2.8 CONJUNCTION OF COMPARISON PART III Interview Excerpts Chapter 7 Conversations in Creole 1. 7.1 Interview with LD 2. 7.2 Interview with RD 3. 7.3 Interview with KS 4. 7.4 Interview with AS 5. 7.5 Interview with GL 6. 7.6 Interview with NF 7. 7.7 Interview with YC and JL 7.8 Interview with ME 7.9 Interview with MP Works Cited Glossary Index