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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/13217-0.txt b/13217-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..30f3a6b --- /dev/null +++ b/13217-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4214 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13217 *** + +[TR: ***] = Transcriber Note +[HW: ***] = Handwritten Note + + + + +SLAVE NARRATIVES + + +A Folk History of Slavery in the United States +From Interviews with Former Slaves + + +TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY +THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT +1936-1938 +ASSEMBLED BY +THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT +WORK PROJECTS ADMINISTRATION +FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA +SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS + +Illustrated with Photographs + + +WASHINGTON 1941 + + + + +VOLUME XII + +OHIO NARRATIVES + + + + +Prepared by +the Federal Writers' Project of +the Works Progress Administration +for the State of Ohio + + + +INFORMANTS + +Anderson, Charles H. + +Barden, Melissa +Bledsoe, Susan +Bost, Phoebe +Brown, Ben +Burke, Sarah Woods + +Campbell, James +Clark, Fleming + +Davidson, Hannah +Dempsey, Mary Belle + +East, Nancy + +Glenn, Wade + +Hall, David A. +Henderson, Celia + +Jackson, George +Jemison, Rev. Perry Sid [TR: Name also appears as Jamison] + +King, Julia + +Lester, Angeline + +McKimm, Kisey +McMillan, Thomas +Mann, Sarah +Matheus, John William + +Nelson, William + +Slim, Catherine +Small, Jennie +Smith, Anna +Stewart, Nan +Sutton, Samuel + +Toler, Richard + +Williams, Julia +Williams, Rev. +Williams, William + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Charles H. Anderson + +Melissa Barden +Phoebe Bost + +James Campbell + +Angeline Lester + +Richard Toler + + + + +Ruth Thompson, Interviewing +Graff, Editing + +Ex-Slave Interview +Cincinnati + +CHARLES H. ANDERSON +3122 Fredonia St., +Cincinnati, Ohio + +[Illustration: Charles H. Anderson] + + +"Life experience excels all reading. Every place you go, you learn +something from every class of people. Books are just for a memory, to +keep history and the like, but I don't have to go huntin' in libraries, +I got one in my own head, for you can't forget what you learn from +experience." + +The old man speaking is a living example of his theory, and, judging +from his bearing, his experience has given him a philosophical outlook +which comprehends love, gentleness and wisdom. Charles H. Anderson, 3122 +Fredonia Street, was born December 23, 1845, in Richmond, Virginia, as a +slave belonging to J.L. Woodson, grocer, "an exceedingly good owner--not +cruel to anyone". + +With his mother, father, and 15 brothers and sisters, he lived at the +Woodson home in the city, some of the time in a cabin in the rear, but +mostly in the "big house". Favored of all the slaves, he was trusted to +go to the cash drawer for spending money, and permitted to help himself +to candy and all he wanted to eat. With the help of the mistress, his +mother made all his clothes, and he was "about as well dressed as +anybody". + +"I always associated with high-class folks, but I never went to church +then, or to school a day in my life. My owner never sent me or my +brothers, and then when free schools came in, education wasn't on my +mind. I just didn't think about education. Now, I read a few words, and +I can write my name. But experience is what counts most." + +Tapping the porch floor with his cane for emphasis, the old fellow's +softly slurred words fell rapidly but clearly. Sometimes his tongue got +twisted, and he had to repeat. Often he had to switch his pipe from one +side of his mouth to the other; for, as he explained, "there ain't many +tooth-es left in there". Mr. Anderson is rather slight of build, and his +features are fine, his bald head shiny, and his eyes bright and eager. +Though he says he "ain't much good anymore", he seems half a century old +instead of "92 next December, if I can make it". + +"I have been having some sick spells lately, snapped three or four ribs +out of place several years ago, and was in bed for six weeks after my +wife died ten year ago. But my step-daughter here nursed me through it. +Doctor says he doesn't see how I keep on living. But they take good care +of me, my sons and step-daughter. They live here with me, and we're +comfortable." + +And comfortable, neat, and clean they are in the trimmest little frame +house on the street, painted grey with green trim, having a square of +green lawn in front and another in back enclosed with a rail fence, gay +flowers in the corners, rubber plants in pots on the porch, and grape +arbor down one side of the back yard. Inside, rust-colored mohair +overstuffed chairs and davenport look prim with white, crocheted +doilies, a big clock with weights stands in one corner on an ornately +carved table, and several enlarged framed photographs hang on the wall. +The other two rooms are the combined kitchen and dining room, and a +bedroom with a heatrola in it "to warm an old man's bones". Additional +bedrooms are upstairs. + +Pointing to one of the pictures, he remarked, "That was me at 37. Had it +taken for my boss where I worked. It was a post card, and then I had it +enlarged for myself. That was just before I married Helen". + +Helen Comer, nee Cruitt, was a widow with four youngsters when he met +her 54 years ago. One year later they were married and had two boys, +Charles, now 47, employed as an auto repair man, and Samuel, 43, a +sorter in the Post Office, both bachelors. + +"Yes sir, I sure was healthy-looking them days. Always was strong, never +took a dollars worth of medicine in fifty year or more till I had these +last sick spells. But we had good living in slave days. In one sense we +were better off then than after the war, 'cause we had plenty to eat. +Nowadays, everybody has to fen' for himself, and they'd kill a man for a +dime. + +"Whip the slaves? Oh, my God! Don't mention it, don't mention it! Lots +of 'em in Old Dominion got beatings for punishment. They didn't have no +jail for slaves, but the owners used a whip and lash on 'em. I've seen +'am on a chain gang, too, up at the penitentiary. But I never got a +whipping in my life. Used to help around the grocery, and deliver +groceries. Used to go up to Jeff Davis' house every day. He was a fine +man. Always was good to me. But then I never quarreled with anybody, +always minded my own business. And I never was scared of nothing. Most +folks was superstitious, but I never believed in ghosts nor anything I +didn't see. Never wore a charm. Never took much stock in that kind of +business. The old people used to carry potatoes to keep off rheumatism. +Yes, sir. They had to steal an Irish potato, and carry it till it was +hard as a rock; then they'd say they never get rheumatism. + +"Saturday was our busy day at the store; but after work, I used to go to +the drag downs. Some people say 'hoe down' or 'dig down', I guess 'cause +they'd dig right into it, and give it all they got. I was a great hand +at fiddlin'. Got one in there now that is 107-year old, but I haven't +played for years. Since I broke my shoulder bone, I can't handle the +bow. But I used to play at all the drag downs. Anything I heard played +once, I could play. Used to play two steps, one of 'em called 'Devil's +Dream', and three or four good German waltzes, and 'Turkey in the +Straw'--but we didn't call it that then. It was the same piece, but I +forget what we called it. They don't play the same nowadays. Playin' now +is just a time-consumer, that's all; they got it all tore to pieces, no +top or bottom to it. + +"We used to play games, too. Ring games at play parties--'Ring Around +the Rosie', 'Chase the Squirrel', and 'Holly Golly'. Never hear of Holly +Golly? Well, they'd pass around the peanuts, and whoever'd get three +nuts in one shell had to give that one to the one who had started the +game. Then they'd pass 'em around again. Just a peanut-eating contest, +sorta. + +"Abraham Lincoln? Well, they's people born in this world for every +occupation and Lincoln was a natural born man for the job he completed. +Just check it back to Pharoah' time: There was Moses born to deliver the +children of Israel. And John Brown, he was born for a purpose. But they +said he was cruel all the way th'ough, and they hung him in February, +1859. That created a great sensation. And he said, 'Go ahead. Do your +work. I done mine'. Then they whipped around till they got the war +started. And that was the start of the Civil War. + +"I enlisted April 10, 1865, and was sent to San Diego, Texas; but I +never was in a battle. And they was only one time when I felt anyways +skittish. That was when I was a new recruit on picket duty. And it was +pitch dark, and I heard something comin' th'ough the bushes, and I +thought, 'Let 'em come, whoever it is'. And I got my bayonet all ready, +and waited. I'se gittin' sorta nervous, and purty soon the bushes +opened, and what you think come out? A great big ole hog! + +"In June '65, I got a cold one night, and contracted this throat trouble +I get--never did get rid of it. Still carry it from the war. Got my +first pension on that--$6 a month. Ain't many of us left to get pensions +now. They's only 11 veterans left in Cincinnati. + +"They used to be the Ku Klux Klan organization. That was the +pat-rollers, then they called them the Night Riders, and at one time the +Regulators. The 'Ole Dragon', his name was Simons, he had control of it, +and that continued on for 50 year till after the war when Garfield was +president. Then it sprung up again, now the King Bee is in prison. + +"Well, after the war I was free. But it didn't make much difference to +me; I just had to work for myself instead of somebody else. And I just +rambled around. Sort of a floater. But I always worked, and I always eat +regular, and had regular rest. Work never hurt nobody. I lived so many +places, Cleveland, and ever'place, but I made it here longer than +anyplace--53 year. I worked on the railroad, bossin'. Always had men +under me. When the Chesapeake and Ohio put th'ough that extension to +White Sulphur, we cut tracks th'ough a tunnel 7 mile long. And I handled +men in '83 when they put the C & O th'ough here. But since I was 71, I +been doin' handy work--just general handy man. Used to do a lot of +carving, too, till I broke my shoulder bone. Carved that ol' pipe of +mine 25 year ago out of an ol' umbrella handle, and carved this monkey +watch charm. But the last three year I ain't done much of anything. + +"Go to church sometimes, over here to the Corinthian Baptis' Church of +Walnut Hills. But church don't do much good nowadays. They got too much +education for church. This new-fangled education is just a bunch of +ignoramacy. Everybody's just looking for a string to pull to get +something--not to help others. About one-third goes to see what everbody +else is wearing, and who's got the nicest clothes. And they sit back, +and they say, 'What she think she look like with that thing on her +haid?'. The other two-thirds? Why, they just go for nonsense, I guess. +Those who go for religion are scarce as chicken teeth. Yes sir, they go +more for sight-seein' than soul-savin'. + +"They's so much gingerbread work goin' on now. Our most prominent people +come from the eastern part of the United States. All wise people come +from the East, just as the wise men did when the Star of Bethlehem +appeared when Christ was born. And the farther east you go, the more +common knowledge a person's got. That ain't no Dream Boat. Nowadays, +people are gettin' crazier everyday. We got too much liberty; it's all +'little you, and big me'. Everybody's got a right to his own opinion, +and the old fashioned way was good enough for my father, and it's good +enough for me. + +"If your back trail is clean, you don't need to worry about the future. +Your future life is your past conduct. It's a trailer behind you. And I +ain't quite dead yet, efn I do smell bad!" + + + + +Story and Photo by Frank M. Smith + +Ex-Slaves +Mahoning County, District #5 +Youngstown, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. MELISSA (LOWE) BARDEN, Youngstown, Ohio. + +[Illustration: Melissa Barden] + + +Mrs. Melissa (Lowe) Barden of 1671 Jacobs Road, was "bred and born" on +the plantation of David Lowe, near Summersville, Georgia, Chattooga +County, and when asked how old she was said "I's way up yonder +somewheres maybe 80 or 90 years." + +Melissa assumed her master's name Lowe, and says he was very good to her +and that she loved him. Only once did she feel ill towards him and that +was when he sold her mother. She and her sister were left alone. Later +he gave her sister and several other slaves to his newly married +daughter as a wedding present. This sister was sold and re-sold and when +the slaves were given their freedom her mother came to claim her +children, but Melissa was the only one of the four she could find. Her +mother took her to a plantation in Newton County, where they worked +until coming north. The mother died here and Melissa married a man named +Barden. + +Melissa says she was very happy on the plantation where they danced and +sang folk songs of the South, such as _"Sho' Fly Go 'Way From Me"_, and +others after their days work was done. + +When asked if she objected to having her picture taken she said, "all +right, but don't you-all poke fun at me because I am just as God made +me." + +Melissa lives with her daughter, Nany Hardie, in a neat bungalow on the +Sharon Line, a Negro district. Melissa's health is good with the +exception of cataracts over her eyes which have caused her to be totally +blind. + + + + +Ohio Guide +Ex-Slave Stories +Aug 15, 1937 + +SUSAN BLEDSOE +462-12th St. S.E., Canton, Ohio. + +"I was born on a plantation in Gilee County, near the town of Elkton, in +Tennessee, on August 15, 1845. My father's name was Shedrick Daley and +he was owned by Tom Daley and my mother's name was Rhedia Jenkins and +her master's name was Silas Jenkins. I was owned by my mother's master +but some of my brothers and sisters--I had six brothers and six +sisters--were owned by Tom Daley. + +I always worked in the fields with the men except when I was called to +the house to do work there. 'Masse' Jenkins was good and kind to all us +slaves and we had good times in the evening after work. We got in groups +in front of the cabins and sang and danced to the music of banjoes until +the overseer would come along and make us go to bed. No, I don't +remember what the songs were, nothing in particular, I guess, just some +we made up and we would sing a line or two over and over again. + +We were not allowed to work on Sunday but we could go to church if we +wanted to. There wasn't any colored church but we could go to the white +folks church if we went with our overseer. His name was Charlie Bull and +he was good to all of us. + +Yes, they had to whip a slave sometimes, but only the bad ones, and they +deserved it. No, there wasn't any jail on the plantation. + +We all had to get up at sunup and work till sundown and we always had +good food and plenty of it; you see they had to feed us well so we would +be strong. I got better food when I was a slave than I have ever had +since. + +Our beds were home made, they made them out of poplar wood and gave us +straw ticks to sleep on. I got two calico dresses a year and these were +my Sunday dresses and I was only allowed to wear them on week days after +they were almost worn out. Our shoes were made right on the plantation. + +When any slaves got sick, Mr. Bull, the overseer, got a regular doctor +and when a slave died we kept right on working until it was time for the +funeral, then we were called in but had to go right back to work as soon +as it was over. Coffins were made by the slaves out of poplar lumber. + +We didn't play many games, the only ones I can remember are 'ball' and +'marbles'. No, they would not let us play 'cards'. + +One day I was sent out to clean the hen house and to burn the straw. I +cleaned the hen house, pushed the straw up on a pile and set fire to it +and burned the hen house down and I sure thought I was going to get +whipped, but I didn't, for I had a good 'masse'. + +We always got along fine with the children of the slave owners but none +of the colored people would have anything to do with the 'poor white +trash' who were too poor to own slaves and had to do their own work. + +There was never any uprisings on our plantations and I never heard about +any around where I lived. We were all happy and contented and had good +times. + +Yes, I can remember when we were set free. Mr. Bull told us and we cut +long poles and fastened balls of cotton on the ends and set fire to +them. Then, we run around with them burning, a-singin' and a-dancin'. +No, we did not try to run away and never left the plantation until Mr. +Bull said we could go. + +After the war, I worked for Mr. Bull for about a year on the old +plantation and was treated like one of the family. After that I worked +for my brother on a little farm near the old home place. He was buying +his farm from his master, Mr. Tom Daley. + +I was married on my brother's place to Wade Bledsoe in 1870. He has been +dead now about 15 years. His master had given him a small farm but I do +not remember his master's name. Yes, I lived in Tennessee until after my +husband died. I came to Canton in 1929 to live with my granddaughter, +Mrs. Algie Clark. + +I had three children; they are all dead but I have 6 grandchildren, 8 +great-grandchildren and 9 great-great-grandchildren, all living. No, I +don't think the children today are as good as they used to be, they are +just not raised like we were and do too much as they please. + +I can't read or write as none of we slaves ever went to school but I +used to listen to the white folks talk and copied after them as much as +I could." + + +NOTE: The above is almost exactly as Mrs. Bledsoe talked to our +interviewer. Although she is a woman of no schooling she talks well and +uses the common negro dialect very little. She is 92 years of age but +her mind is clear and she is very entertaining. She receives an Old Age +Pension. (Interviewed by Chas. McCullough.) + + + + +Story and Photo by Frank Smith + +Topic: Ex-slaves +Mahoning County, District #5 +Youngstown, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. PHOEBE BOST, of Youngstown, Ohio. + +[Illustration: Phoebe Bost] + + +Mrs. Phoebe Bost, was born on a plantation in Louisiana, near New +Orleans. She does not know her exact age but says she was told, when +given her freedom that she was about 15 years of age. Phoebe's first +master was a man named Simons, who took her to a slave auction in +Baltimore, where she was sold to Vaul Mooney (this name is spelled as +pronounced, the correct spelling not known.) When Phoebe was given her +freedom she assummed the name of Mooney, and went to Stanley County, +North Carolina, where she worked for wages until she came north and +married to Peter Bost. Phoebe claims both her masters were very mean and +would administer a whipping at the slightest provocation. + +Phoebe's duties were that of a nurse maid. "I had to hol' the baby all +de time she slept" she said "and sometimes I got so sleepy myself I had +to prop ma' eyes open with pieces of whisks from a broom." + +She claims there was not any recreation, such as singing and dancing +permitted at this plantation. + +Phoebe, who is now widowed, lives with her daughter, in part of a double +house, at 3461 Wilson Avenue, Campbell, Ohio. Their home is fairly well +furnished and clean in appearance. Phoebe is of slender stature, and is +quite active in spite of the fact that she is nearing her nineties. + + + + +WPA in Ohio +By Albert I. Dugan [TR: also reported as Dugen] +Jun 9, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-slaves +Muskingum County, District #2 + +BEN BROWN +Ex-slave, 100 years +Keen St., Zanesville, Ohio + + +Yes suh I wuz a slave in Vaginyah, Alvamaul (Albermarle) county an' I +didn't have any good life, I'm tellin' you dat! It wuz a tough life. I +don't know how old I am, dey never told me down dere, but the folks here +say I'm a hunderd yeah old an' I spect dats about right. My fathah's +name wuz Jack Brown and' my mammy's Nellie Brown. Dey wuz six of us +chillun, one sistah Hannah an' three brothers, Jim, Harrison, an' Spot. +Jim wuz de oldes an' I wuz next. We wuz born on a very lauge plantation +an dey wuz lots an' lots of other slaves, I don't know how many. De log +cabins what we live in[HW:?] on both sides de path make it look like a +town. Mastah's house wuz a big, big one an' had big brick chimneys on de +outside. It wuz a frame house, brown, an' set way back from de road, an' +behind dat wuz de slaves' quarters. De mastah, he wuz Fleming Moon an' +dey say he wuz cap'n in de wah of 1812. De missy wuz Parley Moon and dey +had one son an fouh daughters. + +All us chillun an mammy live in a log cabin dat wuz lauge enuf foh us an +we sleep in good beds, tall ones an' low ones dat went undaneath, +trundles dey call 'em, and de covahs wuz comfohtable. De mammies did de +cookin. We et cohn bread, beans, soup, cabbage an' some othah vegtubles, +an a little meat an fish, not much. Cohn cake wuz baked in de ashes, +ash-cake we call 'em an' dey wuz good and sweet. Sometimes we got wheat +bread, we call dat "seldom bread" an' cohn bread wuz called "common" +becos we had it ev'ry day. A boss mammy, she looked aftah de eatins' and +believe me nobuddy got too much. + +De meat house wuz full of smoked po'k, but we only got a little piece +now an' den. At hog killin' time we built a big fiah an put on stones +an' when dey git hot we throw 'em in a hogshead dat has watah in it. Den +moah hot stones till de watah is jus right for takin' de hair off de +hogs, lots of 'em. Salt herrin' fish in barls cum to our place an we put +em in watah to soak an den string em on pointed sticks an' hang up to +dry so dey wont be so salty. A little wuz given us with de other food. + +I worked about de place doin' chores an takin' care of de younger +chillun, when mammy wuz out in de fields at harvest time, an' I worked +in de fields too sometimes. De mastah sent me sometimes with young +recruits goin' to de army headquartahs at Charlottesville to take care +of de horses an show de way. We all worked hard an' when supper wuz ovah +I wuz too tired to do anything but go to bed. It wuz jus work, eat an +sleep foh most of us, dere wuz no time foh play. Some of em tried to +sing or tell stories or pray but dey soon went to bed. Sometimes I heard +some of de stories about hants and speerits an devils that skeered me so +I ran to bed an' covered mah head. + +Mastah died an' den missie, she and a son-in-law took charge of de +place. Mah sistah Hannah wuz sold on de auction block at Richmon to +Mastah Frank Maxie (Massie?) an' taken to de plantation near +Charlottesville. I missed mah sistah terrible an ran away to see her, +ran away three times, but ev'ry time dey cum on horseback an git me jus +befoh I got to Maxies. The missie wuz with dem on a horse and she ax +where I goin an' I told her. Mah hands wuz tied crossways in front with +a big rope so hard it hurt. Den I wuz left on de groun foh a long time +while missie visited Missie Maxie. Dey start home on horses pulling de +rope tied to mah hands. I had to run or fall down an' be dragged on de +groun'. It wuz terrible. When we got home de missie whipped me with a +thick hickory switch an' she wasn't a bit lenient. I wuz whipped ev'ry +time I ran away to see mah sister. + +When dere wuz talk of Yankies cumin' de missie told me to git a box an +she filled it with gold an' silver, lots of it, she wuz rich, an I dug a +hole near de hen house an put in de box an' covered it with dirt an' +smoothed it down an scattered some leaves an twigs ovah it. She told me +nevah, nevah to tell about it and I nevah did until now. She showed me a +big white card with writin' on it an' said it say "This is a Union +Plantation" an' put it on a tree so the Yankies wouldn't try to find de +gold and silvers. But I never saw any Yankie squads cum around. When de +wah wuz ovah, de missie nevah tell me dat I wuz free an' I kep' on +workin' same as befoh. I couldn't read or write an' to me all money +coins wuz a cent, big copper cents, dey wuz all alike to me. De slaves +wuz not allowed any learnin an' if any books, papers or pictures wuz +foun' among us we wuz whipped if we couldn't explain where dey cum from. +Mah sistah an' brother cum foh me an tell me I am free and take me with +them to Mastah Maxies' place where dey workin. Dey had a big dinnah +ready foh me, but I wuz too excited to eat. I worked foh Mastah Maxie +too, helpin' with de horses an' doin' chores. Mammy cum' an wuz de cook. +I got some clothes and a few cents an' travelers give me small coins foh +tending dere horses an' I done done odd jobs here an dere. + +I wanted some learnin but dere wuz no way to git it until a white man +cleared a place in de woods an' put up branches to make shade. He read +books to us foh a while an' den gave it up. A lovly white woman, Missy +Holstottle, her husband's name wuz Dave, read a book to me an' I +remember de stories to dis day. It wuz called "White an' Black." Some of +de stories made me cry. + +After wanderin about doin work where I could git it I got a job on de C +an O Railroad workin' on de tracks. In Middleport, dat's near Pomeroy, +Ohio, I wuz married to Gertie Nutter, a widow with two chillun, an dere +wuz no moah chilluns. After mah wife died I wandered about workin' on +railroads an' in coal mines an' I wuz hurt in a mine near Zanesville. +Felt like mah spine wuz pulled out an I couldn't work any moah an' I cum +to mah neice's home here in Zanesville. I got some compensation at +first, but not now. I get some old age pension, a little, not much, but +I'm thankful foh dat. + +Mah life wuz hard an' sad, but now I'm comfortable here with kind +friens. I can't read or write, but I surely enjoy de radio. Some nights +I dream about de old slave times an' I hear dem cryin' an' prayin', "Oh, +Mastah, pray Oh, mastah, mercy!" when dey are bein' whipped, an' I wake +up cryin.' I set here in dis room and can remember mos' all of de old +life, can see it as plain as day, de hard work, de plantation, de +whippings, an' de misery. I'm sure glad it's all over. + + + + +James Immel, Reporter + +Folklore +Washington County, District Three + +SARAH WOODS BURKE +Aged 85 + + +"Yessir, I guess you all would call me an ex-slave cause I was born in +Grayson County, West Virginia and on a plantation I lived for quite a +spell, that is until when I was seven years old when we all moved up +here to Washington county." + +"My Pappy's old Mammy was supposed to have been sold into slavery when +my Pappy was one month old and some poor white people took him ter +raise. We worked for them until he was a growed up man, also 'til they +give him his free papers and 'lowed him to leave the plantation and come +up here to the North." + +"How did we live on the plantation? Well--you see it was like this we +lived in a log cabin with the ground for floors and the beds were built +against the walls jus' like bunks. I 'member that the slaves had a hard +time getting food, most times they got just what was left over or +whatever the slaveholder wanted to give them so at night they would slip +outa their cabins on to the plantation and kill a pig, a sheep or some +cattle which they would butcher in the woods and cut up. The wimmin +folks would carry the pieces back to the cabins in their aprons while +the men would stay behind and bury the head, skin and feet." + +"Whenever they killed a pig they would have to skin it, because they +didn't dare to build a fire. The women folk after getting home would put +the meat in special dug trenches and the men would come erlong and cover +it up." + +"The slave holders in the port of the country I came from was men and it +was quite offen that slaves were tied to a whipping stake and whipped +with a blacksnake until the blood ran down their bodies." + +"I remembers quite clearly one scene that happened jus' afore I left +that there part of the country. At the slaveholders home on the +plantation I was at it was customary for the white folks to go to church +on Sunday morning and to leave the cook in charge. This cook had a habit +of making cookies and handing them out to the slaves before the folks +returned. Now it happened that on one Sunday for some reason or tother +the white folks returned before the regular time and the poor cook did +not have time to get the cookies to the slaves so she just hid then in a +drawer that was in a sewing chair." + +"The white folks had a parrot that always sat on top of a door in this +room and when the mistress came in the room the mean old bird hollered +out at the top of his voice, 'Its in the rocker. It's in the rocker'. +Well the Missus found the cookies and told her husband where upon the +husband called his man that done the whipping and they tied the poor +cook to the stake and whipped her till she fainted. Next morning the +parrot was found dead and a slave was accused because he liked the woman +that had been whipped the day before. They whipped him than until the +blood ran down his legs." + +"Spirits? Yessir I believe in them, but we warnt bothered so much by +them in them days but we was by the wild animals. Why after it got dark +we children would have to stay indoors for fear of them. The men folks +would build a big fire and I can remember my Pappy a settin on top of +the house at night with a old flint lock across his legs awaiting for +one of them critters to come close enough so he could shoot it. The +reason for him being trusted with a gun was because he had been raised +by the poor white man who worked for the slaveholder. My Pappy did not +work in the fields but drove a team of horses." + +"I remembers that when we left the plantation and come to Washington +County, Ohio that we traveled in a covered wagon that had big white +horse hitched to it. The man that owned the horse was Blake Randolls. He +crossed the river 12 miles below Parkersberg. W. Va. on a ferry and went +to Stafford, Ohio, in Monroe County where we lived until I was married +at the age of 15 to Mr. Burke, by the Justice of the Peace, Edward +Oakley. A year later we moved to Curtis Ridge which is seven miles from +Stafford and we lived their for say 20 year or more. We moved to Rainbow +for a spell and then in 1918 my husband died. The old man hard luck came +around cause three years my home burned to the ground and then I came +here to live with my boy Joe and his family." + +"Mr. Burke and myself raised a family of 16 chilluns and at that time my +husband worked at farming for other people at $2.00 a month and a few +things they would give him." + +"My Pappy got his education from the boy of the white man he lived with +because he wasn't allowed to go to school and the white boy was very +smart and taught him just as he learned. My Pappy, fought in the Civil +War too. On which side? Well, sho nuff on the site of the North, boy." + + + + +Hallie Miller, Reporter +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor + +Folklore: Ex-slaves +Gellia County, District 3 + +JAMES CAMPBELL +Age 86 + +[Illustration: James Campbell] + + +"Well, I'se bo'n Monro' County, West Virginia, on January 15, 1852, jes' +few miles from Union, West Virginia." + +"My mammy wuz Dinnah Alexander Campbell an' my pappy wuz Levi Campbell +an' dey bof cum frum Monro' County. Dat's 'bout only place I heerd dem +speak 'bout." + +"Der wuz Levi, Floyd, Henry, Noah, an' Nancy, jes' my haf brudders an' +sistahs, but I neber knowed no diffrunce but whut dey wuz my sistahs an' +brudders." + +"Where we liv? On Marsa John Alexander's farm, he wuz a good Marsa too. +All Marsa John want wuz plenty wurk dun and we dun it too, so der wuz no +trubble on ouah plantashun. I neber reclec' anyone gittin' whipped or +bad treatment frum him. I does 'members, dat sum de neighbers say dey +wuz treated prutty mean, but I don't 'member much 'bout it 'caise I'se +leetle den." + +"Wher'd I sleep? I neber fergit dat trun'l bed, dat I sleep in. + +"Marsa John's place kinda stock farm an' I dun de milkin'. You all know +dat wuz easy like so I jes' keep busy milkin' an' gits out de hard work. +Nudder thing I lik to do wuz pick berries, dat wuz easy too, so I dun my +shar' pickin'." + +"Money? Lawsy chile, I neber dun seen eny money 'til aftah I dun cum to +Gallipolis aftah der war. An' how I lik' to heah it jingle, if I jes' +had two cents, I'd make it jingle." + +"We all had plenty an' good things to eat, beans, corn, tatahs, melons +an' hot mush, corn bread; we jes' seen white flour wunce in a while." + +"Yes mam, we had rabbit, wil' turkey, pheasunts, an' fish, say I'se +tellin' you-all dat riful pappy had shure cud kill de game." + +"Nudder good ole time wuz maple sugar makin' time, mostly dun at night +by limestone burnin'. Yes, I heped with the 'lasses an' all de time I +wuz a thinkin' 'bout dem hot biscets, ham meat, corn bread an' 'lasses." + +"We liv in a cabin on Marse John's place. Der wuzn't much in de cabin +but my mammy kept it mighty clean. Say, I kin see dat ole' fiah place +wid de big logs a burnin' right now; uh, an' smell dat good cookin', all +dun in iron pots an' skillets. An' all de cookin' an' heatin' wuz dun by +wood, why I nebber seed a lump o' coal all time I wuz der. We all had to +cut so much wood an' pile it up two weeks 'for Christmas, an' den when +ouah pile wuz cut, den ouah wurk wuz dun, so we'd jes' hav good time." + +"We all woah jeans clos', jes pants an' jacket. In de summah we chilluns +all went barefoot, but in de wintah we all woah shoes." + +"Ol' Marse John an' his family liv in a big fine brick hous'. Marse John +had des chilluns, Miss Betty an' Miss Ann an' der wuz Marse Mike an' +Marse John. Marse John, he wuz sorta spiled lik. He dun wen to de war +an' runs 'way frum Harpers Ferry an' cum home jes' sceered to death. He +get himsef a pah o' crutches an' neber goes back. Marse John dun used +dem crutches 'til aftah de war wuz ovah. Den der wuz ol' Missy +Kimberton--de gran'muthah. She wuz 'culiar but prutty good, so wuz +Marse's chilluns." + +"Ol' Marse John had bout 20 slaves so de wurk wuzn't so bad on nun ob +us. I kin jes' see dem ol' bindahs and harrows now, dat dey used den. It +would shure look funny usin' 'em now." + +"I all'us got up foah clock in de mornin' to git in de cows an' I didn't +hurry nun, 'caise dat tak in de time." + +"Ouah mammy neber 'lowed de old folks to tell us chilluns sceery stories +o' hants an' sich lik' so der's nun foah me to 'member." + +"Travelin' wuz rather slo' lik. De only way wuz in ox-carts or on hoss +back. We all didn't hay much time fer travelin'. Our Marse wuz too good +to think 'bout runnin' 'way." + +"Nun my fam'ly cud read er write. I lurned to read an write aftah I cum +up Norf to Ohio. Dat wuz biggest thing I ebber tackled, but it made me +de happies' aftah I learn't." + +"We all went to Sunday School an' meetin'. Yes mam, we had to wurk on +Sundays, too, if we did hav any spare time, we went visit in'. On +Saturday nights we had big time foah der wuz mos' all'us dancin' an' +we'd dance long as de can'les lasted. Can'les wuz all we had any time +fur light." + +"I 'member one de neighbah boys tried to run 'way an' de patrollahs got +'im an' fetched 'im back an' he shure dun got a wallopin' fer it. Dat +dun tuk any sich notion out my head. Dem patrollahs dun keep us skeered +to deaf all de time. One, Henry Jones, runned off and went cleah up Norf +sum place an' dey neber did git 'im. 'Course we all wuz shure powahful +glad 'bout his 'scapin'." + +"We'se neber 'lowed out de cabin at night. But sum times de oldah 'uns +wud sneak out at night an'tak de hosses an' tak a leetle ride. An' man +it wud bin jes' too bad if ol' Marse John ketched 'em: dat wuz shure +heaps o' fun fer de kids. I 'member hearin' wunce de ol' folks talkin' +'bout de way one Marse dun sum black boys dat dun sumthin' wrong. He +jes' mak 'em bite off de heads o' baccer wurms; mysef I'd ruther tuk a +lickin." + +"On Christmus Day, we'd git fiah crackahs an' drink brandy, dat wuz all. +Dat day wuz only one we didn't wurk. On Saturday evenin's we'd mold +candles, dat wuzn't so bad." + +"De happies' time o' my life wuz when Cap'n Tipton, a Yankee soljer +cumed an' tol' us de wah wuz ober an' we wuz free. Cap'n. Tipton sez, +"Youse de boys we dun dis foah". We shure didn't lose no time gittin' +'way; no man." + +"We went to Lewisburg an' den up to Cha'leston by wagon an' den tuk de +guvment boat, _Genrul Crooks_, an' it brung us heah to Gallipolis in +1865. Dat Ohio shoah shure looked prutty." + +"I'se shure thankful to Mr. Lincoln foah whut he dun foah us folks, but +dat Jeff Davis, well I ain't sayin' whut I'se thinkin'." + +"De is jes' like de worl', der is lots o' good an' lots o' bad in it." + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project + +Topic: Ex-Slavery +Jefferson Co, District #2 + +FLEMING CLARK +Ex-Slave, 74+ in years + + +My father's name wuz Fleming Clark and my mother's name wuz Emmaline +Clark. Both of dem wuz in slavery. Der massa's name wuz David Bowers. I +don't know where dey cum from but dey moved to Bad Creek after slavery +days. + +Der wuz three of us chillun. Charles, de oldest, den Anthony next and +den me, de youngest. I wuz workin' for a white man and wuz old enough to +drive cows and work in de 'bacco fields, pickin' worms off de leaves. De +other brudders worked wid my father on another plantation. De house +where I lived wid de white Massa Lewis Northsinge and his Missus, wuz a +log house wid just two rooms. I had just a little straw tick and a cot +dat de massa made himself and I hed a common quilt dat de missus made to +cover me. + +I hear dat my grandmother died during slavery and dat my grandfather wuz +killed by his massa during slavery. + +On Sunday I would go home and stay wid my father and mother and two +brothers. We would play around wid ball and marbles. We had no school or +church. We were too far away for church. + +I earned no money. All I got wus just my food and clothes. I wuz leasted +out to my massa and missus. I ate corn bread, fat hog meat and drank +butter milk. Sometimes my father would catch possum and my mother would +cook them, and bring me over a piece. I used to eat rabbit and fish. Dey +used to go fishin' in de creek. I liked rabbit and groundhog. De food +wuz boiled and roasted in de oven. De slaves have a little patch for a +garden and day work it mostly at night when it wuz moonlight. + +We wore geans and shirts of yellow cotton, we wore no shoes up til +Christmas. I wore just de same during de summer except a little coat. We +had no under shirt lik we have now. We wore de same on Sunday. Der wuz +no Sunday suit. + +De mass and missus hed one boy. De boy wuz much older than I. Dey were +all kind to me. I remember plenty poor white chillun. I remember Will +and John Nathan. Dey were poor white people. + +My massa had three plantations. He had five slaves on one and four on +another. I worked on one with four slaves. My father worked on one wid +my brother and mother. We would wake up at 4 and 5 o'clock and do chores +in de barn by lamp light. De overseer would ring a bell in de yeard, if +it wuz not too cold to go out. If it wuz too cold he would cum and knock +on de door. It wuz 8 or 9 o'clock fore we cum in at night. Den we have +to milk de cows to fore we have supper. + +De slaves were punished fore cumin' in too soon and unhitching de +horses. Dey would bend dem accross a barrel and switch dem and den send +dem back to de fields. + +I head dem say dey switch de blood out of dem and salt de wound den dey +could not work de next day. + +I saw slaves sold. Dey would stand on a block and men would bid for dem. +De highest bidder bought de slaves. I saw dem travel in groups, not +chained, one white man in front and one in back. Dey looked like cattle. + +De white folks never learned me to read or write. + +Der were petrollers. Dey were mean if dey catch you out late at night. +If a slave wus out late at night he had to have a notice from his massa. +Der wuz trouble if de slaves were out late at night or if dey run off to +another man. + +De slaves worked on Saturday afternoons. Dey stay in de cabins on +Saturday nights and Sundays. We worked on New Years day. De massa would +give us a little hard cider on Christmas day. Dey would give a big +supper at corn huskin' or cotton pickin' and give a little play or +somethin' lik dat. + +I remember two weddings. Dey hed chicken, and mutton to eat and corn +bread. Dey all ganged round de table. Der wur milk and butter. I +remember one wedding of de white people. I made de ice cream for dem. I +remember playin' marbles and ball. + +Sometimes a racer snake would run after us, wrap round us and whip us +with its tail. The first one I remember got after me in de orchard. He +wrapped right round me and whipped me with his tail. + +My mother took care of de slaves when dey were sick. You had to be awful +sick if dey didn't make you go out. Dey made der own medicine in those +days. We used asafetida and put a piece in a bag and hung it round our +necks. It wuz supposed to keep us from ketchin' diseases from anyone +else. + +When freedom cum dey were all shoutin' and I run to my mother and asked +her what it wuz all bout. De white man said you are all free and can go. +I remember the Yankee soldier comin' through the wheat field. + +My parents lived very light de first year after de war. We lived in a +log cabin. De white man helped dem a little. My father went to work +makin' charcoal. Der wuz no school for Negroes and no land that I +remember. + +I married Alice Thompson. She wuz 16 and I wuz 26. We hed a little +weddin' down in Bushannon, Virginny. A Baptist preacher named Shirley +married us. Der were bout a dozen at de weddin'. We hed a little dancin' +and banjo play in'. I hed two chillun but dey died and my wife died a +long, long time ago. + +I just heard a little bout Abraham Lincoln. I believe he wuz a good man. +I just hed a slight remembrance of Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis. +I have heard of Booker T. Washington, felt just de same bout him. A +pretty good man. + +I think it wuz a great thing that slavery anded, I would not lik to see +it now. + +I joined de Baptist church but I have been runnin' round from place to +place. We always prosper and get along with our fellowmen if we are +religious. + +De overseer wuz poor white trash. His rules were you hed to be out on de +plantation before daylight. Sometimes we hed to sit around on de fence +to wait for daylight and we did not go in before dark. We go in bout one +for meals. + + + + +K. Osthimer, Author +Aug 12, 1937 + +Folklore: Stories from Ex-Slaves +Lucas County, District Nine +Toledo, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. HANNAH DAVIDSON. + + +Mrs. Hannah Davidson occupies two rooms in a home at 533 Woodland +Avenue, Toledo, Ohio. Born on a plantation in Ballard County, Kentucky, +in 1852, she is today a little, white-haired old lady. Dark, flashing +eyes peer through her spectacles. Always quick to learn, she has taught +herself to read. She says, "I could always spell almost everything." She +has eagerly sought education. Much of her ability to read has been +gained from attendance in recent years in WPA "opportunity classes" in +the city. Today, this warm-hearted, quiet little Negro woman ekes out a +bare existence on an old age pension of $23.00 a month. It is with +regret that she recalls the shadows and sufferings of the past. She +says, "It is best not to talk about them. The things that my sister May +and I suffered were so terrible that people would not believe them. It +is best not to have such things in our memory." + +"My father and mother were Isaac and Nancy Meriwether," she stated. "All +the slaves went under the name of my master and mistress, Emmett and +Susan Meriwether. I had four sisters and two brothers. There was +Adeline, Dorah, Alice, and Lizzie. My brothers were Major and George +Meriwether. We lived in a log cabin made of sticks and dirt, you know, +logs and dirt stuck in the cracks. We slept on beds made of boards +nailed up. + +"I don't remember anything about my grandparents. My folks were sold +around and I couldn't keep track of them. + +"The first work I did out from home was with my mistress's brother, Dr. +Jim Taylor, in Kentucky, taking care of his children. I was an awful +tiny little somethin' about eight or nine years old. I used to turn the +reel for the old folks who was spinning. That's all I've ever +known--work. + +"I never got a penny. My master kept me and my sister Mary twenty-two +long years after we were supposed to be free. Work, work, work. I don't +think my sister and I ever went to bed before twelve o'clock at night. +We never got a penny. They could have spared it, too; they had enough. + +"We ate corn bread and fat meat. Meat and bread, we kids called it. We +all had a pint tin cup of buttermilk. No slaves had their own gardens. + +"The men just wore jeans. The slaves all made their own clothes. They +just wove all the time; the old women wove all the time. I wasn't old +enough to go in the field like the oldest children. The oldest +children--they _worked_. After slavery ended, my sister Mary and me +worked as ex-slaves, and we _worked_. Most of the slaves had shoes, but +us kids used to run around barefoot most of the time. + +"My folks, my master and mistress, lived in a great, white, frame house, +just the same as a hotel. I grew up with the youngest child, Mayo. The +other white children grew up and worked as overseers. Mayo always wanted +me to call him 'Master Mayo'. I fought him all the time. I never would +call him 'Master Mayo'. My mistress wouldn't let anyone harm me and she +made Mayo behave. + +"My master wouldn't let the poor white neighbors--no one--tell us we was +free. The plantation was many, many acres, hundreds and hundreds of +acres, honey. There were about twenty-five or thirty families of slaves. +They got up and stood until daylight, waiting to plow. Yes, child, they +was up _early_. Our folks don't know how we had to work. I don't like to +tell you how we were treated--how we had to _work_. It's best to brush +those things out of our memory. + +"If you wanted to go to another plantation, you had to have a pass. If +my folks was going to somebody's house, they'd have to have a pass. +Otherwise they'd be whipped. They'd take a big man and tie his hands +behind a tree, just like that big tree outside, and whip him with a +rawhide and draw blood every whip. I know I was scared every time I'd +hear the slave say, 'Pray, Master.' + +"Once, when I was milking a cow, I asked Master Ousley, 'Master Ousley, +will you do me a favor?' + +"He said in his drawl, 'Of course I will.' + +"'Take me to McCracken County,' I said. I didn't even know where +McCracken County was, but my sister was there. I wanted to find my +sister. When I reached the house where my sister stayed, I went through +the gate. I asked if this was the house where Mary Meriwether lived. Her +mistress said, 'Yes, she's in the back. Are you the girl Mr. +Meriwether's looking for?" My heart was in my mouth. It just seemed I +couldn't go through the gate. I never even saw my sister that time. I +hid for a while and then went back. + +"We didn't have any churches. My master would come down Sunday morning +with just enough flour to make bread. Coffee, too. Their coffee was +parts of meal, corn and so on. Work all week and that's what they had +for coffee. + +"We used to sing, 'Swing low, sweet chariot'. When our folks sang that, +we could really see the chariot. + +"Once, Jim Ferguson, a colored man, came to teach school. The white +folks beat and whipped him and drove him away in his underwear. + +"I wanted so hard to learn to read, but I didn't even know I was free, +even when slavery was ended. + +"I been so exhausted working, I was like an inch-worm crawling along a +roof. I worked till I thought another lick would kill me. If you had +something to do, you did it or got whipped. Once I was so tired I +couldn't work any more. I crawled in a hole under the house and stayed +there till I was rested. I didn't get whipped, either. + +"I never will forget it--how my master always used to say, 'Keep a +nigger down' I never will forget it. I used to wait on table and I heard +them talk. + +"The only fun we had was on Sunday evening, after work. That was the +only chance we got. We used to go away off from the house and play in +the haystack. + +"Our folks was so cruel, the slaves used to whisper 'round. Some of them +knew they was free, even if the white folks didn't want 'em to find out +they was free. They went off in the woods sometimes. But I was just a +little kid and I wasn't allowed to go around the big folks. + +"I seen enough what the old folks went through. My sister and I went +through enough after slavery was over. For twenty-one long years we were +enslaved, even after we were supposed to be free. We didn't even know we +were free. We had to wash the white people's feet when they took their +shoes off at night--the men and women. + +"Sundays the slaves would wash out their clothes. It was the only time +they had to themselves. Some of the old men worked in their tobacco +patches. We never observed Christmas. We never had no holidays, son, +_no, sir_! We didn't know what the word was. + +"I never saw any slave funerals. Some slaves died, but I never saw any +of them buried. I didn't see any funerals at all. + +"The white folks would come down to the cabins to marry the slaves. The +master or mistress would read a little out of a book. That's all there +was to it. + +"We used to play a game called 'Hulgul'. We'd play it in the cabins and +sometimes with the white children. We'd hold hazelnuts in our hands. I'd +say 'Hulgul' How many? You'd guess. If you hit it right, you'd get them +all and it would be your turn to say 'Hulgul'. If you'd say 'Three!' and +I only had two, you'd have to give me another to make three. + +"The kids nowadays can go right to the store and buy a ball to play +with. We'd have to make a ball out of yarn and put a sock around it for +a cover. Six of us would stay on one side of a house and six on the +other side. Then we'd throw the ball over the roof and say 'Catch!' If +you'd catch it you'd run around to the; other side and hit somebody, +then start over. We worked so hard we couldn't play long on Sunday +evenings. + +"School? We never seen the inside of a schoolhouse. Mistress used to +read the Bible to us every Sunday morning. + +"We say two songs I still remember. + + "I think when I read that sweet story of old, + When Jesus was here among men, + How he called little children like lambs to his fold, + I should like to have been with them then. + + "I wish that his hands had been placed on my head, + That his arms had been thrown around me, + That I might have seen his kind face when he said + 'Let the little ones come unto me.' + + "Yet still to his footstool in prayer I nay go + And ask for a share of his love, + And that I might earnestly seek Him below + And see Him and hear Him above. + +"Then there was another: + + "I want to be an angel + And with the angels stand + With a crown upon my Forehead + And a harp within my hand. + + "And there before my Saviour, + So glorious and so bright, + I'd make the sweetest music + And praise him day and night. + +"And as soon as we got through singing those songs, we had to get right +out to work. I was always glad when they called us in the house to +Sunday school. It was the only chance we'd get to rest. + +"When the slaves got sick, they'd take and look after themselves. My +master had a whole wall of his house for medicine, just like a store. +They made their own medicines and pills. My mistress's brother, Dr. Jim +Taylor, was a doctor. They done their own doctoring. I still have the +mark where I was vaccinated by my master. + +"People was lousy in them days. I always had to pick louses from the +heads of the white children. You don't find children like that nowadays. + +"My mistress had a little roan horse. She went all through the war on +that horse. Us little kids never went around the big folks. We didn't +watch folks faces to learn, like children do now. They wouldn't let us. +All I know about the Civil War was that it was goin' on. I heard talk +about killin' and so on, but I didn't know no thin' about it. + +"My mother was the last slave to get off the plantation. She travelled +across the plantation all night with us children. It was pouring rain. +The white folks surrounded her and took away us children, and gave her +so many minutes to get off the plantation. We never saw her again. She +died away from us. + +"My brother came to see us once when slavery was over. He was grown up. +My master wasn't going to let him see us and he took up his gun. My +mistress said he should let him see us. My brother gave me a little +coral ring. I thought it was the prettiest thing I ever saw. + +"I made my sister leave. I took a rolling pin to make her go and she +finally left. They didn't have any more business with us than you have +right now. + +"I remember when Yankee soldiers came riding through the yard. I was +scared and ran away crying. I can see them now. Their swords hung at +their sides and their horses walked proud, as if they walked on their +hind legs. The master was in the field trying to hide his money and guns +and things. The soldiers said, 'We won't hurt you, child.' It made me +feel wonderful. + +"What I call the Ku Klux were those people who met at night and if they +heard anybody saying you was free, they would take you out at night and +whip you. They were the plantation owners. I never saw them ride, but I +heard about them and what they did. My master used to tell us he wished +he knew who the Ku Kluxers were. But he knew, all right, I used to wait +on table and I heard them talking. 'Gonna lynch another nigger tonight!' + +"The slaves tried to get schools, but they didn't get any. Finally they +started a few schools in little log cabins. But we children, my sister +and I, never went to school. + +"I married William L. Davison, when I was thirty-two years old. That was +after I left the plantation. I never had company there. I had to _work_. +I have only one grandchild still living, Willa May Reynolds. She taught +school in City Grove, Tennessee. She's married now. + +"I thought Abe Lincoln was a great man. What little I know about him, I +always thought he was a great man. He did a lot of good. + +"Us kids always used to sing a song, 'Gonna hang Jeff Davis to a sour +apple tree as we go marchin' home.' I didn't know what it meant at the +time. + +"I never knew much about Booker T. Washington, but I heard about him. +Frederick Douglass was a great man, too. He did lots of good, like Abe +Lincoln. + +"Well, slavery's over and I think that's a grand thing. A white lady +recently asked me, 'Don't you think you were better off under the white +people?' I said 'What you talkin' about? The birds of the air have their +freedom'. I don't know why she should ask me that anyway. + +"I belong to the Third Baptist Church. I think all people should be +religious. Christ was a missionary. He went about doing good to people. +You should be clean, honest, and do everything good for people. I first +turn the searchlight on myself. To be a true Christian, you must do as +Christ said: 'Love one another'. You know, that's why I said I didn't +want to tell about my life and the terrible things that I and my sister +Mary suffered. I want to forgive those people. Some people tell me those +people are in hell now. But I don't think that. I believe we should all +do good to everybody." + + + + +Betty Lugabell, Reporter [TR: also reported as Lugabill] +Harold Pugh, Editor +R.S. Drum, Supervisor +Jun 9, 1937 + +Folklore: Ex-Slaves +Paulding Co., District 10 + +MARY BELLE DEMPSEY +Ex-Slave, 87 years + + +"I was only two years old when my family moved here, from _Wilford_ +county, Kentucky. 'Course I don't remember anything of our slave days, +but my mother told me all about it." + +"My mother and father were named Sidney Jane and William Booker. I had +one brother named George William Booker." + +"The man who owned my father and mother was a good man." He was good to +them and never 'bused them. He had quite a large plantation and owned 26 +slaves. Each slave family had a house of their own and the women of each +family prepared the meals, in their cabins. These cabins were warm and +in good shape." + +"The master farmed his land and the men folks helped in the fields but +the women took care of their homes." + +"We had our churches, too. Sometimes the white folks would try to cause +trouble when the negroes were holding their meetings, then a night the +men of the church would place chunks and matches on the white folks gate +post. In the morning the white folks would find them and know that it +was a warning if they din't quit causing trouble their buildings would +be burned." + +"There was a farm that joined my parents' master's place and the owner +was about ready to sell the mother slave with her five small children. +The children carried on so much because they were to be separated that +the mistress bought them back although she had very little money to +spare." + +"I don't know any more slave stories, but now I am getting old, and I +know that I do not have long to live, but I'm not sorry, I am, ready to +go. I have lived as the Lord wants us to live and I know that when I die +I shall join many of my friends and relatives in the Lord's place. +Religion is the finest thing on earth. It is the one and only thing that +matters." + + + + +Former Slave Interview, Special +Aug 16, 1937 + +Butler County, District #2 +Middletown + +MRS. NANCE EAST +809 Seventeenth Ave., +Middletown, Ohio + + +"Mammy" East, 809 Seventeenth Ave., Middletown, Ohio, rules a four-room +bungalow in the negro district set aside by the American Rolling Mill +Corporation. She lives there with her sons, workers in the mill, and +keeps them an immaculate home in the manner which she was taught on a +Southern plantation. Her house is furnished with modern electrical +appliances and furniture, but she herself is an anachronism, a personage +with no faith in modern methods of living, one who belongs in that vague +period designated as "befo' de wah." + +"I 'membahs all 'bout de slave time. I was powerful small but my mother +and daddy done tole me all 'bout it. Mother and daddy bofe come from +Vaginny; mother's mama did too. She was a weaver and made all our +clothes and de white folks clothes. Dat's all she ever did; just weave +and spin. Gran'mama and her chilluns was _sold_ to the Lett fambly, two +brothers from Monroe County, Alabama. _Sole_ jist like cows, honey, +right off the block, jist like cows. But they was good to they slaves. + +"My mother's last name was Lett, after the white folks, and my daddy's +name was Harris Mosley, after his master. After mother and daddy +married, the Mosleys done bought her from the Letts so they could be +together. They was brother-in-laws. Den I was named after Miss Nancy. +Dey was Miss Nancy and Miss Hattie and two boys in the Mosleys. Land, +honey, they had a big (waving her hands in the air) plantation; a whole +section; and de biggest home you done ever see. We darkies had cabins. +Jist as clean and nice. Them Mosleys, they had a grist mill and a gin. +They like my daddy and he worked in de mill for them. Dey sure was good +to us. My mother worked on de place for Miss Nancy." + +Mammy East, in a neat, voile dress and little pig-tails all over her +head, is a tall, light-skinned Negro, who admits that she would much +rather care for children than attend to the other duties of the little +house she owns; but the white spreads on the beds and the spotless +kitchen is no indication of this fact. She has a passion for the good +old times when the Negroes had security with no responsibility. Her +tall, statuesque appearance is in direct contrast to the present-day +conception of old southern "mammmies." + +"De wah, honey? Why, when dem Yankees come through our county mother and +Miss Nancy and de rest hid de hosses in de swamps and hid other things +in the house, but dey got all the cattle and hogs. Killed 'em, but only +took the hams. Killed all de chickens and things, too. But dey didn't +hurt the house. + +"After de wah, everybody jist went on working same as ever. Then one day +a white mans come riding through the county and tole us we was free. +_Free!_ Honey, did yo' hear _that_? Why we always had been free. He +didn't know what he was talking 'bout. He kept telling us we was free +and dat we oughtn't to work for no white folks 'less'n we got paid for +it. Well Miss Nancy took care of us then. We got our cabin and a piece +of ground for a garden and a share of de crops. Daddy worked in de mill. +Miss Nancy saw to it that we always had nice clothes too. + +"Ku Klux, honey? Why, we nevah did hear tell of no sich thing where we +was. Nevah heered nothin' 'bout dat atall until we come up here, and dey +had em here. Law, honey, folks don't know when dey's well off. My daddy +worked in de mill and save his money, and twelve yeahs aftah de wah he +bought two hundred and twenty acres of land, 'bout ten miles away. Den +latah on daddy bought de mill from de Mosleys too. Yas'm, my daddy was +well off. + +"My, you had to be somebody to votes. I sure do 'membahs all 'bout dat. +You had to be edicated and have money to votes. But I don' 'membahs no +trouble 'bout de votin'. Not where we come from, no how. + +"I was married down dere. Mah husband's fust name was Monroe after the +county we lived in. My chilluns was named aftah some of the Mosleys. I +got a Ed and Hattie. Aftah my daddy died we each got forty acahs. I sold +mine and come up here to live with my boys. + +"But honey dis ain't no way to raise chilluns. Not lak dey raised now. +All dis dishonesty and stealin' and laziness. _No mam!_ Look here at my +gran'sons. Eatin' offen dey daddy. No place for 'em. Got edication, and +caint git no jobs outside cuttin' grass and de like. Down on de +plantation ev'body worked. No laziness er 'oneriness, er nothin! I tells +yo' honey, I sure do wish these chilluns had de chances we had. Not much +learnin', but we had up-bringin'! Look at dem chilluns across de street. +Jist had a big fight ovah dere, and dey mothah's too lazy to do any +thing 'bout it. No'm, nevah did see none o' dat when we was young. +Gittin' in de folkeses hen houses and stealing, and de carryins on at +night. _No mam!_ I sure do wish de old times was here. + +"I went back two-three yeahs ago, to de old home place, and dere it was, +jist same as when I was livin' with Miss Nancy. Co'se, theys all dead +and gone now, but some of the gran'chilluns was around. Yas'm, I membahs +heap bout dem times." + + + + +Miriam Logan, Reporter +Lebanon, Ohio + +Warren County, District 21 + +Story of WADE GLENN from Winston-Salem North Carolina: +(doesn't know his age) + + +"Yes Madam, I were a slave--I'm old enough to have been born into +slavery, but I was only a baby slave, for I do not remember about +slavery, I've just heard them tell about it. My Mammy were Lydia Glenn, +and father were Caesar Glenn, for they belonged to old Glenn. I've heard +tell he were a mean man too. My birthday is October 30th--but what +year--I don't know. There were eight brothers and two sisters. We lived +on John Beck's farm--a big farm, and the first work for me to do was +picking up chips o' wood, and lookin' after hogs. + +"In those days they'd all kinds of work by hand on the farm. No Madam, +no cotton to speak of, or tobacco _then_. Just farmin' corn, hogs, wheat +fruit,--like here. Yes Madam, that was all on John Beck's farm except +the flax and the big wooley sheep. Plenty of nice clean flax-cloth suits +we all had. + +"Beck wasn't so good--but we had enough to eat, wear, and could have our +Saturday afternoon to go to town, and Sunday for church. We sho did have +church, large meetin'--camp meetin'--with lot of singin' an shoutin' and +it was fine! Nevah was no singer, but I was a good dancer in my day, +yes--yes Madam I were a good dancer. I went to dances and to church with +my folks. My father played a violin. He played well, so did my brother, +but I never did play or sing. Mammy sang a lot when she was spinning and +weaving. She sing an' that big wheel a turnin.' + + "When I can read my title clear, + Up Yonder, Up Yonder, Up Yonder! + +and another of her spinnin' songs was a humin:-- + + "The Promise of God Salvation free to give..." + +"Besides helpin' on the farm, father was ferryman on the Yadkin River +for Beck. He had a boat for hire. Sometimes passengers would want to go +a mile, sometimes 30. Father died at thirty-five. He played the violin +fine. My brother played for dances, and he used to sing lots of songs:-- + + "Ol' Aunt Katy, fine ol' soul, + She's beatin' her batter, + In a brand new bowl... + +--that was a fetchin' tune, but you see I can't even carry it. Maybe I +could think up the words of a lot of those ol' tunes but they ought to +pay well for them, for they make money out of them. I liked to go to +church and to dances both. For a big church to sing I like 'Nearer My +God to Thee'--there isn't anything so good for a big crowd to sing out +big! + +"Father died when he was thirty-five of typhoid. We all had to work +hard. I came up here in 1892--and I don't know why I should have, for +Winston-Salem was a big place. I've worked on farm and roads. My wife +died ten years ago. We adopted a girl in Tennennesee years ago, and she +takes a care of me now. She was always good to us--a good girl. Yes, +Madam." + +Wade Glenn proved to be not nearly so interesting as his appearance +promised. He is short; wears gold rimmed glasses; a Southern Colonel's +Mustache and Goatee--and capitals are need to describe the style! He had +his comical-serious little countenance topped off with a soft felt hat +worn at the most rakish angle. He can't carry a tune, and really is not +musical. His adopted daughter with whom he lives is rated the town's +best colored cook. + + + + +Ohio Guide, Special +Ex-Slave Stories +August 16, 1937 + +DAVID A. HALL + + +"I was born at Goldsboro, N.C., July 25, 1847. I never knew who owned my +father, but my mother's master's name was Lifich Pamer. My mother did +not live on the plantation but had a little cabin in town. You see, she +worked as a cook in the hotel and her master wanted her to live close to +her work. I was born in the cabin in town. + +"No, I never went to school, but I was taught a little by my master's +daughter, and can read and write a little. As a slave boy I had to work +in the military school in Goldsboro. I waited on tables and washed +dishes, but my wages went to my master the sane as my mother's. + +"I was about fourteen when the war broke out, and remember when the +Yankees came through our town. There was a Yankee soldier by the name of +Kuhns who took charge of a Government Store. He would sell tobacco and +such like to the soldiers. He was the man who told me I was free and +then give me a job working in the store. + +"I had some brothers and sisters but I do not remember them--can't tell +you anything about them. + +"Our beds were homemade out of poplar lumber and we slept on straw +ticks. We had good things to eat and a lot of corn cakes and sweet +potatoes. I had pretty good clothes, shoes, pants and a shirt, the same +winter and summer. + +"I don't know anything about the plantation as I had to work in town and +did not go out there very much. No, I don't know how big it was or how +many slaves there was. I never heard of any uprisings either. + +"Our overseer was 'poor white-trash', hired by the master. I remember +the master lived in a big white house and he was always kind to his +slaves, so was his wife and children, but we didn't like the overseer. I +heard of some slaves being whipped, but I never was and I did not see +any of the others get punished. Yes, there was a jail on the plantation +where slaves had to go if they wouldn't behave. I never saw a slave in +chains but I have seen colored men in the chain gang since the war. + +"We had a negro church in town and slaves that could be trusted could go +to church. It was a Methodist Church and we sang negro spirituals. + +"We could go to the funeral of a relative and quit work until it was +over and then went back to work. There was a graveyard on the +plantation. + +"A lot of slaves ran away and if they were caught they were brought back +and put in the stocks until they were sold. The master would never keep +a runaway slave. We used to have fights with the 'white trash' sometimes +and once I was hit by a rock throwed by a white boy and that's what this +lump on my head is. + +"Yes, we had to work every day but Sunday. The slaves did not have any +holidays. I did not have time to play games but used to watch the slaves +sing and dance after dark. I don't remember any stories. + +"When the slaves heard they had been set free, I remember a lot of them +were sorry and did not want to leave the plantation. No, I never heard +of any in our section getting any mules or land. + +"I do remember the 'night riders' that come through our country after +the war. They put the horse shoes on the horses backwards and wrapped +the horses feet in burlap so we couldn't hear them coming. The colored +folks were deathly afraid of these men and would all run and hide when +they heard they were coming. These 'night riders' used to steal +everything the colored people had--even their beds and straw ticks. + +"Right after the war I was brought north by Mr. Kuhns I spoke of, and +for a short while I worked at the milling trade in Tiffin and came to +Canton in 1866. Mr. Kuhns owned a part in the old flour mill here (now +the Ohio Builders and Milling Co.) and he give me a job as a miller. I +worked there until the end of last year, 70 years, and I am sure this is +a record in Canton. No, I never worked any other place. + +"I was married July 4, 1871 to Jennie Scott in Massillon. We had four +children but they are all dead except one boy. Our first baby--a girl +named Mary Jane, born February 21, 1872, was the first colored child +born in Canton. My wife died in 1926. No, I do not know when she was +born, but I do know she was not a slave. + +"I started to vote after I came north but did not ever vote in the +south. I do not like the way the young people of today live; they are +too fast and drink too much. Yes, I think this is true of the white +children the same as the colored. + +"I saved my money when I worked and when I quit I had three properties. +I sold one of these, gave one to my son, and I am living in the other. +No, I have never had to ask for charity. I also get a pension check +from, the mill where I worked so long. + +"I joined church simply because I thought it would make me a better man +and I think every one should belong. I have been a member of St. Paul's +A.M.E. church here in Canton for 54 years. Yesterday (Sunday, August 15, +1937) our church celebrated by burning the mortgage. As I was the oldest +member I was one of the three who lit it, the other two are the only +living charter members. My church friends made me a present yesterday of +$100.00 which was a birthday gift. I was 90 years old the 25th of last +month." + +Hall resides at 1225 High Ave., S.W., Canton, Ohio. + + + + +Miriam Logan +Lebanon, Ohio + +MRS. CELIA HENDERSON, aged 88. +Born Hardin County, Kentucky in 1849 + +(drawing of Celia Henderson) [TR: no drawing found] + + +"Mah mammy were Julia Dittoe, an pappy, he were name Willis Dittoe. Dey +live at Louieville till mammy were sold fo' her marster's debt. She were +a powerful good cook, mammy were--an she were sol' fo to pay dat debt." + +"She tuk us four chillen 'long wid her, an pappy an th' others staid +back in Louieville. Dey tuk us all on a boat de Big Ribber--evah heah ob +de big ribber? Mississippi its name--but we calls it de big ribber." + +"_Natchez on de hill_--dats whaah de tuk us to. Nactchez-on-de-hill dis +side of N' Or'leans. Mammy she have eleven chillen. No 'em, don't +'member all dem names no mo'. No 'em, nevah see pappy no moah. Im +'member mammy cryin' goin' down on de boat, and us chillen a cryin' too, +but de place we got us was a nice place, nicer den what we left. Family +'o name of GROHAGEN it was dat got us. Yas'em dey was nice to mammy fo' +she was a fine cook, mammy wus. A fine cook!" + +"Me? Go'Long! I ain't no sech cook as my mammy was. But mah boy, he were +a fine cook. I ain't nothin' of a cook. Yas'em, I cook fo Mis Gallagher, +an fo 4 o' de sheriffs here, up at de jail. But de fancy cookin' I ain't +much on, no'em I ain't. But mah boy an mammy now, dey was fine! Mah boy +cook at hotels and wealthy homes in Louieville 'til he died." + +"Dey was cotton down dere in Natchez, but no tobacco like up here. No +'em, I nevah wuk in cotton fields. I he'p mammy tote water, hunt chips, +hunt pigs, get things outa de col' house. Dat way, I guess I went to wuk +when I wuz about 7 or 8 yeahs ol'. Chillen is sma't now, an dey hafto be +taught to wuk, but dem days us culled chillen wuk; an we had a good time +wukin' fo dey wernt no shows, no playthings lak dey have now to takey up +day time, no'em." + +"Nevah no church fo' culled people does I 'member in Natchez. One time +dey was a drouth, an de water we hauls from way ovah to de rivah. Now +dat wuz down right wuk, a haulin dat water. Dey wuz an ol' man, he were +powerful in prayer, an gather de darkies unda a big tree, an we all +kneels down whilse he pray fo de po' beastes what needs good clean water +fo to drink. Dat wuz a putty sight, dat church meetin' under de big +tree. I alus member dat, an how, dat day he foun a spring wid he ol' +cane, jes' like a miracle after prayer. It were a putty sight to see mah +cows an all de cattle a trottin' fo dat water. De mens dey dug out a +round pond fo' de water to run up into outa de spring, an it wuz good +watah dat wudn't make de beastes sick, an we-all was sho' happy.'" + +"Yes'em, I'se de only one of mammy's chillen livin'. She had 11 chillen. +Mah gran'na on pappy's side, she live to be one hundred an ten yeah's +ol' powerful ol' ev'y body say, an she were part Indian, gran'ma were, +an dat made her live to be ol'. + +"Me? I had two husband an three chillen. Mah firs' husban die an lef' me +wid three little chillens, an mah secon' husban', he die 'bout six yeahs +ago. Ah cum heah to Lebanon about forty yeahs ago, because mah mammy +were heah, an she wanted me to come. When ah wuz little, we live nine +yeahs in Natchez on de hill. Den when de wah were ovah Mammy she want to +go back to Louieville fo her folks wuz all theah. Ah live in Louieville +til ah cum to Lebanon. All ah 'members bout de close o'de wah, wuz dat +white folks wuz broke up an po' down dere at Natchez; and de fus time ah +hears de EMANICAPTION read out dey was a lot o' prancin 'roun, an a big +time." + +"Ah seen soldiers in blue down there in Natchez on de hill, oncet ah +seen dem cumin down de road when ah were drivin mah cows up de road. Ah +wuz scared sho, an' ah hid in de bushes side o' de road til dey went by, +don' member dat mah cows was much scared though." Mammy say 'bettah hide +when you sees sojers a-marchin by, so dat time a whole line o dem cum +along and I hide." + +"Down dere mammy done her cookin' outa doors, wid a big oven. Yo gits yo +fiah goin' jes so under de oven, den you shovels some fiah up on top de +oven fo to get you bakin jes right. Dey wuz big black kettles wid hooks +an dey run up an down like on pulleys ovah de oven stove. Den dere wuz +de col'house. No 'lectric ice box lak now, but a house under groun' +wheah things wuz kept jest as col' as a ice box. No'em don't 'member jes +how it were fix inside." + +"Yas'em we comes back to Louieville. Yes'em mah chillen goes to school, +lak ah nevah did. Culled teachers in de culled school. Yes'em mah +chillen went far as dey could take 'em." + +"Medicin? My ol' mammy were great fo herb doctorin' an I holds by dat +too a good deal, yas'em. Now-a-days you gets a rusty nail in yo foot an +has lockjaw. But ah member mammy--she put soot mix wid bacon fryin's on +mah foot when ah run a big nail inter it, an mah foot get well as nice!" + +"Long time ago ah cum heah to see mammy, Ah got a terrible misery. Ah +wuz asleep a dreamin bout it, an a sayin, "Mammy yo reckon axel grease +goin' to he'p it?" Den ah wake up an go to her wheahs she's sleepin an +say it. + +"What fo axel grease gointo hep?--an I tol her, an she say:-- + +"Axel grease put on hot, wid red flannel goin'to tak it away chile." + +Ah were an ol' woman mahse'f den--bout fifty, but mammy she climb outa +bed an go out in de yard where deys an ol' wagon, an she scrapes dat +axel off, an heat it up an put it on wid red flannel. Den ah got easy! +Ah sho was thankful when dat grease an flannel got to wukin on me! + +"You try it sometime when you gets one o' dem col' miseries in de winter +time. But go 'long! Folks is too sma't nowadays to use dem good ol' +medicines. Dey jes' calls de Doctor an he come an cut 'em wide open fo +de 'pendycitus--he sho do! Yas'em ah has de doctor, ef ah needs him. Ah +has de rheumatism, no pain--ah jes gets stiffer, an' stiffer right +along." + +Mah sight sho am poor now. Ah cain't wuk no mo. Ah done ironin aftah ah +quit cookin--washin an ironin, ah likes a nice wash an iron the bes fo +wuk. But lasyear mah eyes done give out on me, an dey tell me not to +worry dey gointo give me a pension. De man goes to a heap o' wuk to get +dem papers fix jes right." + +"Yes 'em, I'se de on'y one o' mammy's chillen livin. Mah, gran'ma on +pappy's side, she live to be one hundred and ten yeah's ol--powerful ol +eve'ybody say. She were part Indian, gran' ma were, an dat made her to +be ol." + +"Yes'em, mos' I evah earn were five dollars a week. Ah gets twenty +dollars now, an pays eight dollars fo rent. We is got no mo'--ah +figgers--a wukin fo ourself den what we'd have wuz we slaves, fo dey +gives you a log house, an clothes, an yo eats all yo want to, an when +you _buys_ things, maybe you doesn't make enough to git you what you +needs, wukin sun-up to sun down. No' em 'course ah isn't wukin _now_ +when you gits be de hour--wukin people does now; but ah don't know +nothin 'but that way o'doin." + +"We weahs cotton cloths when ah were young, jes plain weave it were; no +collar nor cuffs, n' belt like store clothes. Den men's jes have a kinda +clothes like ... well, like a chemise, den some pantaloons wid a string +run through at de knees. Bare feet--yes'em, no shoes. Nevah need no coat +down to Natchez, no'em." + +"When we comes back to Louieville on de boat, we sleeps in de straw on +de flo' o' de boat. It gits colder 'n colder! Come big chunks ol ice +down de river. De sky am dark, an hit col' an spit snow. Ah wish ah were +back dere in Natchez dat time after de war were ovah! Yes'em, ah members +dat much." + +"Ah wuk along wid mammy til ah were married, den ah gits on by mahsef. +Manny she come heah to Lebanon wid de Suttons--she married Sam. Sutton's +pappy. Yes 'em dey wuz about 12 o'de fambly cum heah, an ah come to see +mammy,... den ah gits me wuk, an ah stays. + +"Cookin'? Yes'em, way meat is so high now, ah likes groundhog. Ground +hog is good eatin. A peddler was by wid groun' hog fo ten cents apiece. +Ground hog is good as fried chicken any day. You cleans de hog, an boils +it in salt water til its tender. Den you makes flour gravy, puts it on +after de water am drain off; you puts it in de oven wif de lid on an +bakes hit a nice brown. No 'em, don' like fish so well, nor coon, nor +possum, dey is too greasy. Likes chicken, groundhog an pork." Wid de +wild meat you wants plain boiled potatoes, yes'em Irish potatoes, sho +enough, ah heard o' eatin skunk, and muskrat, but ah ain't cookin em. +But ah tells you dat groun' hog is _good eatin_. + +"Ah were Baptized by a white minister in Louieville, an' ah been a +Baptist fo' sixty yeahs now. Yes'em dey is plenty o' colored churches in +Louisville now, but when I were young, de white folks has to see to it +dat we is Baptised an knows Bible verses an' hymns. Dere want no smart +culled preachers like Reverend Williams ... an dey ain't so many now." + +"Up to Xenia is de culled school, an dey is mo's smart culled folks, ol' +ones too--dat could give you-all a real story if you finds dem. But me, +ah cain't read, nor write, and don't member's nuthin fo de War no good." + +Celia is very black as to complexion; tall spare; has small grey eyes. +In three long interviews she has tried very hard to remember for us from +her youth and back through the years; it seems to trouble her that she +cannot remember more. Samuel Sutton's father married her mother. Neither +she or Samuel had the kind of a story to tell that I was expecting to +hear from what little I know about colored people. I may have tried to +get them on the songs and amusements of their youth too often, but it +seems that most that they knew was work; did not sing or have a very +good time. Of course I thought they would say that slavery was terrible, +but was surprised there too. Colored people here are used to having +white people come for them to work as they have no telephones, and most +white people only hire colored help by the day or as needed. Celia and +Samuel, old age pensioners, were very apoligetic because they are no +longer able to work. + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Bishop & Isleman +Reporter: Bishop +[HW: Revised] + +Topic: Ex-Slaves. +Jefferson County, District #5 +July 6, 1937 + +GEORGE JACKSON +Ex-Slave, 79 years + + +I was born in Loudon County, Virginny, Feb. 6, 1858. My mother's name +was Betsy Jackson. My father's name was Henry Jackson. Dey were slaves +and was born right der in Loudon County. I had 16 brothers and sisters. +All of dem is dead. My brothers were Henry, Richard, Wesley, John and +me; Sisters were Annie, Marion, Sarah Jane, Elizabeth, Alice, Cecila and +Meryl. Der were three other chillun dat died when babies. + +I can remember Henry pullin' me out of de fire. I've got scars on my leg +yet. He was sold out of de family to a man dat was Wesley McGuest. +Afterwards my brother was taken sick with small-pox and died. + +We lived on a big plantation right close to Bloomfield, Virginny. I was +born in de storeroom close to massa's home. It was called de weavin' +room--place where dey weaved cotton and yarn. My bed was like a little +cradle bed and dey push it under de big bed at day time. + +My grandfather died so my mother told me, when he was very old. My +grandmother died when se bout 96. She went blind fore she died. Dey were +all slaves. + +My father was owned by John Butler and my grandmother was owned by Tommy +Humphries. Dey were both farmers. My massa joined de war. He was killed +right der where he lived. + +When my father wanted to cum home he had to get a permit from his massa. +He would only cum home on Saturday. He worked on de next plantation +joinin' us. All us chillun and my mother belonged to Massa Humphries. + +I worked in de garden, hoein' weeds and den I washed dishes in de +kitchen. I never got any money. + +I eat fat pork, corn bread, black molasses and bad milk. The meat was +mostly boiled. I lived on fat meat and corn bread. I don't remember +eatin' rabbit, possum or fish. + +De slaves on our plantation did not own der own garden. Dey ate +vegetables out of de big garden. + +In hot weather I wore gean pants and shirt. De pants were red color and +shirt white. I wore heavy woolen clothes in de winter. I wore little +britches wid jacket fastened on. I went barefooted in de summer. + +De mistress scold and beat me when I was pullin' weeds. Sometimes I +pulled a cabbage stead of weed. She would jump me and beat me. I can +remember cryin'. She told me she had to learn me to be careful. I +remember the massa when he went to war. He was a picket in an apple +tree. A Yankee soldier spied and shot him out of de tree. + +I remember Miss Ledig Humphries. She was a pretty girl and she had a +sister Susie. She married a Mr. Chamlain who was overseer. Der were +Robert and Herbert Humphries. Dey were older dan me. Robert wuz about 15 +years old when de war surrender. + +De one that married Susie was de overseer. He was pretty rough. I don't +remember any white neighbors round at dat time. + +Der were 450 acres of de plantation. I can't remember all de slaves. I +know der were 80, odd slaves. + +Lots of mornings I would go out hours fore daylight and when it was cold +my feet would 'most freeze. They all knew dey had to get up in de +mornin'. De slaves all worked hard and late at night. + +I heerd some say that the overseer would take dem to de barn. I remember +Tom Lewis. Then his massa sold him to our massa he told him not to let +the overseer whip him. The overseer said he would whip him. One day Tom +did something wrong. The overseer ordered him to de barn. Tom took his +shirt off to get ready for de whippin' and when de overseer raised de +whip Tom gave him one lick wid his fist and broke de overseer's neck. + +Den de massa sold Tom to a man by de name of Joseph Fletcher. He stayed +with old man Fletcher til he died. + +Fore de slaves were sold dey were put in a cell place til next day when +dey would be sold. Uncle Marshall and Douglas were sold and I remember +dem handcuffed but I never saw dem on de auction block. + +I never knew nothin' bout de Bible til after I was free. I went to +school bout three months. I was 19 or 20 years old den. + +My uncle Bill heard dey were goin' to sell him and he run away. He went +north and cum back after de surrender. He died in Bluemont, Virginny, +bout four years ago. + +After de days work dey would have banjo pickin', singin' and dancin'. +Dey work all day Saturday and Saturday night those dat had wives to see +would go to see dem. On Sunday de would sit around. + +When Massa was shot my mother and dem was cryin'. + +When Slaves were sick one of the mammies would look after dem and dey +would call de doctor if she couldn't fix de sick. + +I remember de big battle dey fought for four days on de plantation. That +was de battle of Bull Run. I heard shootin' and saw soldiers shot down. +It was one of de worst fights of de war. It was right between Blue Ridge +and Bull Run mountain. De smoke from de shootin' was just like a fog. I +saw horses and men runnin' to de fight and men shot off de horses. I +heard de cannon roar and saw de locust tree cut off in de yard. Some of +de bullets smashed de house. De apple tree where my massa was shot from +was in de orchard not far from de house. + +De Union Soldiers won de battle and dey camped right by de house. Dey +helped demselves to de chickens and cut their heads off wid their +swords. Dey broke into de cellar and took wine and preserves. + +After de war I worked in de cornfield. Dey pay my mother for me in food +and clothes. But dey paid my mother money for workin' in de kitchen. + +De slaves were awful glad bout de surrender. + +De Klu Klux Klan, we called dem de paroles, dey would run de colored +people, who were out late, back home. I know no school or church or land +for negroes. I married in Farguar [HW: Farquhar] Co., state of Virginny, +in de county seat. Dat was in 1883. I was married by a Methodist +preacher in Leesburg. I did not get drunk, but had plenty to drink. We +had singin' and music. My sister was a religious woman and would not +allow dancin'. + +I have fourteen chillun. Four boys are livin' and two girls. All are +married. George, my oldest boy graduated from grade school and de next +boy. I have 24 grandchillun and one great grandson. John, my son is +sickly and not able to work and my daughter, Mamie has nine chillun to +support. Her husband doesn't have steady work. + +The grandchillun are doin' pretty well. + +I think Abraham Lincoln was a fine man. It was put in his mind to free +de colored people. Booker T. Washington was alright. + +Henry Logan, a colored man that lives near Bridgeport, Ohio is a great +man. He is a deacon in de Mt. Zion Baptist church. He is a plasterer and +liked by de colored and white people. + +I think it wuz a fine thing that slavery was finished. I don't have a +thing more than my chillun and dey are all poor. (A grandchild nearby +said, "We are as poor as church mice".) My chillun are my best friends +and dey love me. + +I first joined church at Upperville, Virginny. I was buried under de +water. I feel dat everybody should have religion. Dey get on better in +dis life, and not only in dis life but in de life to cum. + +My overseer wuz just a plain man. He wasn't hard. I worked for him since +the surrender and since I been a man. I was down home bout six yares ago +and met de overseer's son and he took me and my wife around in his +automobile. + +My wife died de ninth of last October (1936). I buried her in Week's +cemetery, near Bridgeport, Ohio. We have a family burial lot there. Dat +where I want to be buried, if I die around here. + + +Description of GEORGE JACKSON [TR: original "Word Picture" struck out] + +George Jackson is about 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighs 145 lbs. He has +not done any manual labor for the past two years. He attends church +regularly at the Mt. Zion Baptist church. As he only attended school +about four months his reading is limited. His vision and hearing is fair +and he takes a walk everyday. He does not smoke, chew or drink +intoxicating beverages. + +His wife, Malina died October 9, 1936 and was buried at Bridgeport, +Ohio. He lives with his daughter-in-law whose husband forks for a junk +dealer. The four room house that they rent for $20 per month is in a bad +state of repairs and is in the midst of one of the poorest sections of +Steubenville. + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Written by Bishop & Isleman +Edited by Albert I. Dugen [TR: also reported as Dugan] + +Ex-Slaves +Jefferson County, District #2 + +PERRY SID JEMISON [TR: also reported as Jamison] +Ex-Slave, 79 years + + +(Perry Sid Jemison lives with his married daughter and some of his +grand-children at 422 South Sixth Street, Steubenville, O.) + +"I wuz borned in Perry County, Alabama! De way I remember my age is, I +was 37 years when I wuz married and dat wuz 42 years ago the 12th day of +last May. I hed all dis down on papers, but I hab been stayin' in +different places de last six years and lost my papers and some heavy +insurance in jumpin' round from place to place. + +"My mudders name wuz Jane Perry. Father's name wuz Sid Jemison. Father +died and William Perry was mudders second husband. + +"My mudder wuz a Virginian and my father was a South Carolinian. My +oldest brodder was named Sebron and oldest sister wuz Maggie. Den de +next brudder wuz William, de next sister wuz named Artie, next Susie. +Dats all of dem. + +"De hol entire family lived together on the Cakhoba river, Perry County, +Alabama. After dat we wuz scattered about, some God knows where. + +"We chillun played 'chicken me craner crow'. We go out in de sand and +build sand houses and put out little tools and one thing and another in +der. + +"When we wuz all together we lived in a log hut. Der wuz a porch in +between and two rooms on each side. De porch wuz covered over--all of it +wuz under one roof. + +"Our bed wuz a wooden frame wid slats nailed on it. We jus had a common +hay mattress to sleep on. We had very respectable quilts, because my +mudder made them. I believe we had better bed covers dem days den we hab +des days. + +"My grandmother wuz named Snooky and my grandfather Anthony. I thought +der wasn't a better friend in all de world den my grandmother. She would +do all she could for her grandchildren. Der wuz no food allowance for +chillun that could not work and my grandmother fed us out of her and my +mudders allowance. I member my grandmudder giving us pot-licker, bread +and red syrup. + +"De furst work I done to get my food wuz to carry water in de field to +de hands dat wuz workin'. De next work after dat, wuz when I wuz large +enough to plow. Den I done eberything else that come to mind on de farm. +I neber earned money in dem slave days. + +"Your general food wuz such as sweet potatoes, peas and turnip greens. +Den we would jump out and ketch a coon or possum. We ate rabbits, +squirrels, ground-hog and hog meat. We had fish, cat-fish and scale +fish. Such things as greens, we boil dem. Fish we fry. Possum we parboil +den pick him up and bake him. Of all dat meat I prefar fish and rabbit. +When it come to vegetables, cabbage wuz my delight, and turnips. De +slaves had their own garden patch. + +"I wore one piece suit until I wuz near grown, jes one garment dat we +called et dat time, going out in your shirt tail. In de winter we had +cotton shirt with a string to tie de collar, instead of a button and +tie. We war den same on Sunday, excepting dat mudder would wash and iron +dem for dat day. + +"We went barefooted in de summer and in de winter we wore brogan shoes. +Dey were made of heavy stiff leather. + +"My massa wuz named Sam Jemison and his wife wuz named Chloe. Dey had +chillun. One of the boys wuz named Sam after his father. De udder wuz +Jack. Der wuz daughter Nellie. Dem wuz all I know bout. De had a large +six room building. It wuz weather boarded and built on de common order. + +"Dey hed 750 acres on de plantation. De Jemisons sold de plantation to +my uncle after the surrender and I heard him say ever so many times that +it was 750 acres. Der wuz bout 60 slaves on de plantation. Dey work hard +and late at night. Dey tole me dey were up fore daylight and in de +fields til dark. + +"I heard my mudder say dat the mistress was a fine woman, but dat de +marse was rigied [TR: rigid?]. + +"De white folks did not help us to learn to read or write. De furst +school I remember dat wuz accessbile was foh 90 days duration. I could +only go when it wuz too wet to work in de fields. I wuz bout 16 years +when I went to de school. + +"Der wuz no church on de plantation. Couldn't none of us read. But after +de surrender I remember de furst preacher I ebber heard. I remember de +text. His name was Charles Fletcher. De text was "Awake thou dat +sleepeth, arise from de dead and Christ will give you life!" I remember +of one of de baptizing. De men dat did it was Emanuel Sanders. Dis wuz +de song dat dey sing: "Beside de gospel pool, Appointed for de poor." +Dat is all I member of dat song now. + +"I heard of de slaves running away to de north, but I nebber knew one to +do it. My mudder tole me bout patrollers. Dey would ketch de slaves when +dey were out late and whip and thress dem. Some of de owners would not +stand for it and if de slaves would tell de massa he might whip de +patrollers if he could ketch dem. + +"I knowed one colored boy. He wuz a fighter. He wuz six foot tall and +over 200 pounds. He would not stand to be whipped by de white man. Dey +called him Jack. Des wuz after de surrender. De white men could do +nothin' wid him. En so one day dey got a crowd together and dey shoot +him. It wuz a senation[TR: sensation?] in de country, but no one was +arrested for it. + +"De slaves work on Saturday afternoon and sometimes on Sunday. On +Saturday night de slaves would slip around to de next plantation and +have parties and dancin' and so on. + +"When I wuz a child I played, 'chicken me craner crow' and would build +little sand houses and call dem frog dens and we play hidin' switches. +One of de play songs wuz 'Rockaby Miss Susie girl' and 'Sugar Queen in +goin south, carrying de young ones in her mouth.' + +"I remember several riddles. One wuz: + + 'My father had a little seal, + Sixteen inches high. + He roamed the hills in old Kentuck, + And also in sunny Spain. + If any man can beat dat, + I'll try my hand agin.' + +"One little speech I know: + + 'I tumbled down one day, + When de water was wide and deep + I place my foot on the de goose's back + And lovely swam de creek.' + +"When I wuz a little boy I wuz follin' wid my father's scythe. It fell +on my arm and nearly cut if off. Dey got somethin' and bind it up. +Eventually after a while, it mended up. + +"De marse give de sick slaves a dose of turpentine, blue mass, caromel +and number six. + +"After de surrender my mother tole me dat the marse told de slaves dat +dey could buy de place or dey could share de crops wid him and he would +rent dem de land. + +"I married Lizzie Perry, in Perry County Alabama. A preacher married us +by the name of John Jemison. We just played around after de weddin' and +hed a good time til bedtime come, and dat wuz very soon wid me. + +"I am de father of seven chillun. Both daughters married and dey are +housekeepers. I have 11 grandchillun. Three of dem are full grown and +married. One of dem has graduated from high school. + +"Abraham Lincoln fixed it so de slaves could be free. He struck off de +handcuffs and de ankle cuffs from de slaves. But how could I be free if +I had to go back to my massa and beg for bread, clothes and shelter? It +is up to everybody to work for freedom. + +"I don't think dat Jefferson Davus wuz much in favor of liberality. I +think dat Booker T. Washington wuz a man of de furst magnitude. When it +come to de historiance I don't know much about dem, but according to +what I red in dem, Fred Douglas, Christopher Hatton, Peter Salem, all of +dem colored men--dey wuz great men. Christopher Hatton wuz de furst +slave to dream of liberty and den shed his blood for it. De three of dem +play a conspicuous part in de emancipation. + +"I think it's a good thing dat slavery is ended, for God hadn't intended +there to be no man a slave. + +"My reason for joining de church is, de church is said to be de furst +born, the general assembly of the living God. I joined it to be in the +general assembly of God. + +"We have had too much destructive religion. We need pure and undefiled +religion. If we had dat religion, conditions would be de reverse of that +dey are." + + +(Note: The worker who interviewed this old man was impressed with his +deep religious nature and the manner in which there would crop out in +his conversation the facile use of such words as eventually, general, +accessible, etc. The interview also revealed that the old man had a +knowledge of the scripture. He claims to be a preacher and during the +conversation gave indications of the oratory that is peculiar to old +style colored preachers.) + + +Word Picture of PERRY SID JAMISON and his Home + +[TR: also reported as Jemison] + +Mr. Jamison is about 5'2" and weighs 130 pounds. Except for a slight +limp, caused by a broken bone that did not heal, necessitating the use +of a cane, he gets around in a lively manner. He takes a walk each +morning and has a smile for everybody. + +Mr. Jamison is an elder in the Second Baptist Church and possesses a +deep religious nature. In his conversation there crops out the facile +use of such words as "eventually", "general", "accessible", and the +like. He has not been engaged in manual labor since 1907. Since then he +has made his living as an evangelist for the colored Baptist church. + +Mr. Jamison says he does not like to travel around without something +more than a verbal word to certify who and what he is. He produced a +certificate from the "Illinois Theological Seminary" awarding him the +degree of Doctor of Divinity and dated December 15, 1933, and signed by +Rev. Walter Pitty for the trustees and S. Billup, D.D., Ph.D. as the +president. Another document was a minister's license issued by the +Probate court of Jefferson county authorizing him to perform marriage +ceremonies. He has his ordination certificate dated November 7, 1900, at +Red Mountain Baptist Church, Sloss, Alabama, which certifies that he was +ordained an elder of that church; it is signed by Dr. G.S. Smith, +Moderator. Then he has two letters of recommendation from churches in +Alabama and Chicago. + +That Mr. Jamison is a vigerous preacher is attested by other ministers +who say they never knew a man of his age to preach like he does. + +Mr. Jamison lives with his daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Cookes, whose +husband is a WPA worker. Also living in the house is the daughter's son, +employed as a laborer, and his wife. Between them all, a rent of $28.00 +a month is paid for the house of six rooms. The house at 424 S. Seventh +Street, Steubenville, is in a respectable part of the city and is of the +type used by poorer classes of laborers. + +Mr. Jamison's wife died June 4, 1928, and since then he has lived with +his daughter. In his conversation he gives indication of a latent +oratory easily called forth. + + + + +K. Osthimer, Author + +Folklore: Stories From Ex-Slaves +Lucas County, Dist. 9 +Toledo, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. JULIA KING of Toledo, Ohio. + + +Mrs. Julia King resides at 731 Oakwood Avenue, Toledo, Ohio. Although +the records of the family births were destroyed by a fire years ago, +Mrs. King places her age at about eighty years. Her husband, Albert +King, who died two years ago, was the first Negro policeman employed on +the Toledo police force. Mrs. King, whose hair is whitening with age, is +a kind and motherly woman, small in stature, pleasing and quiet in +conversation. She lives with her adopted daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth King +Kimbrew, who works as an elevator operator at the Lasalle & Koch Co. +Mrs. King walks with a limp and moves about with some difficulty. She +was the first colored juvenile officer in Toledo, and worked for twenty +years under Judges O'Donnell and Austin, the first three years as a +volunteer without pay. + +Before her marriage, Mrs. King was Julia Ward. She was born in +Louisville, Kentucky. Her parents Samuel and Matilda Ward, were slaves. +She had one sister, Mary Ward, a year and a half older than herself. + +She related her story in her own way. "Mamma was keeping house. Papa +paid the white people who owned them, for her time. He left before Momma +did. He run away to Canada on the Underground Railroad. + +"My mother's mistress--I don't remember her name--used to come and take +Mary with her to market every day. The morning my mother ran away, her +mistress decided she wouldn't take Mary with her to market. Mamma was +glad, because she had almost made up her mind to go, even without Mary. + +"Mamma went down to the boat. A man on the boat told Mamma not to answer +the door for anybody, until he gave her the signal. The man was a +Quaker, one of those people who says 'Thee' and 'Thou'. Mary kept on +calling out the mistress's name and Mamma couldn't keep her still. + +"When the boat docked, the man told Mamma he thought her master was +about. He told Mamma to put a veil over her face, in case the master was +coming. He told Mamma he would cut the master's heart out and give it to +her, before he would ever let her be taken. + +"She left the boat before reaching Canada, somewhere on the Underground +Railroad--Detroit, I think--and a woman who took her in said: 'Come in, +my child, you're safe now.' Then Mama met my father in Windsor. I think +they were taken to Canada free. + +"I don't remember anything about grandparents at all. + +"Father was a cook. + +"Mother's mistress was always good and kind to her. + +"When I was born, mother's master said he was worth three hundred +dollars more. I don't know if he ever would have sold me. + +"I think our home was on the plantation. We lived in a cabin and there +must have been at least six or eight cabins. + +"Uncle Simon, who boarded with me in later years, was a kind of +overseer. Whenever he told his master the slaves did something wrong, +the slaves were whipped, and Uncle Simon was whipped, too. I asked him +why he should be whipped, he hadn't done anything wrong. But Uncle Simon +said he guessed he needed it anyway. + +"I think there was a jail on the plantation, because Mamma said if the +slaves weren't in at a certain hour at night, the watchman would lock +them up if he found them out after hours without a pass. + +"Uncle Simon used to tell me slaves were not allowed to read and write. +If you ever got caught reading or writing, the white folks would punish +you. Uncle Simon said they were beaten with a leather strap cut into +strips at the end. + +"I think the colored folks had a church, because Mamma was always a +Baptist. Only colored people went to the church. + +"Mamma used to sing a song: + + "Don't you remember the promise that you made, + To my old dying mother's request? + That I never should be sold, + Not for silver or for gold. + While the sun rose from the East to the West? + + "And it hadn't been a year, + The grass had not grown over her grave. + I was advertised for sale. + And I would have been in jail, + If I had not crossed the deep, dancing waves. + + "I'm upon the Northern banks + And beneath the Lion's paw, + And he'll growl if you come near the shore. + +"The slaves left the plantation because they were sold and their +children were sold. Sometimes their masters were mean and cranky. + +"The slaves used to get together in their cabins and tell one another +the news in the evening. They visited, the same as anybody else. +Evenings, Mamma did the washing and ironing and cooked for my father. + +"When the slaves got sick, the other slaves generally looked after them. +They had white doctors, who took care of the families, and they looked +after the slaves, too, but the slaves looked after each other when they +got sick. + +"I remember in the Civil War, how the soldiers went away. I seen them +all go to war. Lots of colored folks went. That was the time we were +living in Detroit. The Negro people were tickled to death because it was +to free the slaves. + +"Mamma said the Ku Klux was against the Catholics, but not against the +Negroes. The Nightriders would turn out at night. They were also called +the Know-Nothings, that's what they always said. They were the same as +the Nightriders. One night, the Nightriders in Louisville surrounded a +block of buildings occupied by Catholic people. They permitted the women +and children to exscape, but killed all the men. When they found out the +men were putting on women's clothes, they killed everything, women and +children, too. It was terrible. That must have been about eighty years +ago, when I was a very little girl. + +"There was no school for Negro children during slavery, but they have +schools in Louisville, now, and they're doing fine. + +"I had two little girls. One died when she was three years old, the +other when she was thirteen. I had two children I adopted. One died just +before she was to graduate from Scott High School. + +"I think Lincoln was a grand man! He was the first president I heard of. +Jeff Davis, I think he was tough. He was against the colored people. He +was no friend of the colored people. Abe Lincoln was a real friend. + +"I knew Booker T. Washington and his wife. I belonged to a society that +his wife belonged to. I think it was called the National Federation of +Colored Women's Clubs. I heard him speak here in Toledo. I think it was +in the Methodist church. He wanted the colored people to educate +themselves. Lots of them wanted to be teachers and doctors, but he +wanted them to have farms. He wanted them to get an education and make +something of themselves. All the prominent Negro women belonged to the +Club. We met once a year. I went to quite a few cities where the +meetings were held: Detroit, Cleveland, and Philadelphia. + +"The only thing I had against Frederick Douglass was that he married a +white woman. I never heard Douglass speak. + +"I knew some others too. I think Paul Lawrence Dunbar was a fine young +man. I heard him recite his poems. He visited with us right here several +times. + +"I knew Charles Cottrell, too. He was an engraver. There was a young +fellow who went to Scott High. He was quite an artist; I can't remember +his name. He was the one who did the fine picture of my daughter that +hangs in the parlor. + +"I think slavery is a terrible system. I think slavery is the cause of +mixing. If people want to choose somebody, it should be their own color. +Many masters had children from their Negro slaves, but the slaves +weren't able to help themselves. + +"I'm a member of the Third Baptist Church. None join unless they've been +immersed. That's what I believe in. I don't believe in christening or +pouring. When the bishop was here from Cleveland, I said I wanted to be +immersed. He said, 'We'll take you under the water as far as you care to +go.' I think the other churches are good, too. But I was born and raised +a Baptist. Joining a church or not joining a church won't keep you out +of heaven, but I think you should join a church." + +(Interview, Thursday, June 10, 1937.) + + + + +Story and Photo by Frank M. Smith + +Ex-Slaves +Mahoning County, Dist. #5 +Youngstown, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. ANGELINE LESTER, of Youngstown, Ohio. + +[Illustration: Angeline Lester] + + +Mrs. Angeline Lester lives at 836 West Federal Street, on U.S. Route +#422, in a very dilapidated one story structure, which once was a retail +store room with an addition built on the rear at a different floor +level. + +Angeline lives alone and keeps her several cats and chickens in the +house with her. She was born on the plantation of Mr. Womble, near +Lumpkin, Stewart County, Georgia about 1847, the exact date not known to +her, where she lived until she was about four years old. Then her father +was sold to a Dr. Sales, near Brooksville, Georgia, and her mother and a +sister two years younger were sold to John Grimrs[HW:?], who in turn +gave them to his newly married daughter, the bride of Henry Fagen, and +was taken to their plantation, near Benevolence, Randolph County, +Georgia. + +When the Civil War broke out, Angeline, her mother and sister were +turned over to Robert Smith, who substituted for Henry Fagen, in the +Confederate Army. + +Angeline remembers the soldiers coming to the plantation, but any news +about the war was kept from them. After the war a celebration was held +in Benevolence, Georgia, and Angeline says it was here she first tasted +a roasted piece of meat. + +The following Sunday, the negroes were called to their master's house +where they were told they were free, and those who wished, could go, and +the others could stay and he would pay them a fair wage, but if they +left they could take only the clothing on their back. Angeline said "We +couldn't tote away much clothes, because we were only given one pair of +shoes and two dresses a year." + +Not long after the surrender Angeline said, "My father came and gathered +us up and took us away and we worked for different white folks for +money". As time went on, Angeline's father and mother passed away, and +she married John Lester whom she has outlived. + +Angeline enjoys good health considering her age and she devotes her time +working "For De Laud". She says she has "Worked for De Laud in New +Castle, Pennsylvania, and I's worked for De Laud in Akron". She also +says "De Laud does not want me to smoke, or drink even tea or coffee, I +must keep my strength to work for De Laud". + +After having her picture taken she wanted to know what was to be done +with it and when told it was to be sent to Columbus or maybe to +Washington, D.C. she said "Lawsy me, if you had tol' me befo' I'd fixed +up a bit." + + + + +Betty Lugabill, Reporter [TR: also reported as Lugabell] +Harold Pugh, Editor +R.S. Drum, Supervisor +Jun 9, 1937 + +Folklore: Ex-Slaves +Paulding Co., District 10 + +KISEY McKIMM +Ex-Slave, 83 years + + +Ah was born in Bourbon county, sometime in 1853, in the state of +Kaintucky where they raise fine horses and beautiful women. Me 'n my +Mammy, Liza 'n Joe, all belonged to Marse Jacob Sandusky the richest man +in de county. Pappy, he belonged to de Henry Young's who owned de +plantation next to us. + +Marse Jacob was good to his slaves, but his son, Clay was mean. Ah +remembah once when he took mah Mammy out and whipped her cauz she forgot +to put cake in his basket, when he went huntin'. But dat was de las' +time, cauz de master heard of it and cussed him lak God has come down +from Hebbin. + +Besides doin' all de cookin' 'n she was de best in de county, mah Mammy +had to help do de chores and milk fifteen cows. De shacks of all de +slaves was set at de edge of a wood, an' Lawse, honey, us chillun used +to had to go out 'n gatha' all de twigs 'n brush 'n sweep it jes' lak a +floor. + +Den de Massa used to go to de court house in Paris 'n buy sheep an' +hogs. Den we use to help drive dem home. In de evenin' our Mammy took de +old cloes of Mistress Mary 'n made cloes fo' us to wear. Pappy, he come +ovah to see us every Sunday, through de summer, but in de winter, we +would only see him maybe once a month. + +De great day on de plantation, was Christmas when we all got a little +present from de Master. De men slaves would cut a whole pile of wood fo' +de fiah place 'n pile it on de porch. As long as de whole pile of wood +lasted we didn't hab to work but when it was gone, our Christmas was +ovah. Sometimes on Sunday afternoons, we would go to de Master's honey +room 'n he would gib us sticks of candied honey, an' Lawd chile was dem +good. I et so much once, ah got sick 'nough to die. + +Our Master was what white folks call a "miser". I remembah one time, he +hid $3,000, between de floor an' de ceilin', but when he went fur it, de +rats had done chewed it all up into bits. He used to go to de stock +auction, every Monday, 'n he didn't weah no stockings. He had a high +silk hat, but it was tore so bad, dat he held de top n' bottom to-gether +wid a silk neckerchief. One time when ah went wid him to drive de sheep +home, ah heard some of de men wid kid gloves, call him a "hill-billy" 'n +make fun of his clothes. But he said, "Don't look at de clothes, but +look at de man". + +One time, dey sent me down de road to fetch somethin' 'n I heerd a bunch +of horses comin', ah jumped ovah de fence 'n hid behind de elderberry +bushes, until dey passed, den ah ran home 'n tol' 'em what ah done seen. +Pretty soon dey come to de house, 125 Union soldiers an' asked fo' +something to eat. We all jumped roun' and fixed dem a dinnah, when dey +finished, dey looked for Master, but he was hid. Dey was gentlemen 'n +didn't botha or take nothin'. When de war was ovah de Master gave Mammy +a house an' 160 acre farm, but when he died, his son Clay tole us to get +out of de place or he'd burn de house an' us up in it, so we lef an' +moved to Paris. After I was married 'n had two children, me an my man +moved north an' I've been heah evah since. + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Bishop & Isleman +Reporter: Bishop +July 7, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-Slaves. +Jefferson County, District #5 +[HW: Steubenville] + +THOMAS McMILLAN, Ex-Slave +(Does not know age) + + +I was borned in Monroe County, Alabam. I do not know de date. My +father's name was Dave McMillan and my mothers name was Minda. Dey cum +from Old Virginny and he was sold from der. We lived in a log house. De +beds hed ropes instead of slats and de chillun slept on de floor. + +Dey put us out in de garden to pick out weeds from de potatoes. We did +not get any money. We eat bread, syrup and potatoes. It wuz cooked in +pots and some was made in fire, like ash cakes. We hed possum lots of +times and rabbit and squirrel. When dey go fishin' we hed fish to eat. I +liked most anything they gave us to eat. + +In de summer we wore white shirt and pants and de same in de winter. We +wore brogans in de winter too. + +De Massa name wuz John and his wife died before I know her. He hed a boy +named John. He lived in a big house. He done de overseeing himself. + +He hed lots of acres in his plantation and he hed a big gang of slaves. +He hed a man to go and call de slaves up at 4 o'clock every morning. He +was good to his slaves and did not work them so late at night. I heard +some of de slaves on other plantations being punished, but our boss take +good care of us. + +Our Massa learn some of us to read and write, but some of de udder +massas did not. + +We hed church under a arbor. De preacher read de bible and he told us +what to do to be saved. I 'member he lined us up on Jordan's bank and we +sung behind him. + +De partrollers watch de slaves who were out at night. If dey have a pass +dey were alright. If not dey would get into it. De patrollers whip dem +and carry dem home. + +On Saturday afternoon dey wash de clothes and stay around. On Sunday dey +go to church. On Christmas day we did not work and dey make a nice meal +for us. We sometimes shuck corn at night. We pick cotton plenty. + +When we were chillun me other brudders and five sisters played marbles +together. + +I saw de blue jackets, dat's what we called de Yankee soldiers. When we +heard of our freedom we hated it because we did not know what it was for +and did not know where to go. De massa say we could stay as long as we +pleased. + +De Yankee soldier asked my father what dey wuz all doing around der and +that dey were free. But we did not know where to go. We stayed on wid de +massa for a long time after de war wuz over. + +De Klu Klux Klan wuz pretty rough to us and dey whip us. Der was no +school for us colored people. + +I wuz nearly 20 when I first took up with my first woman and lived with +her 20 years den I marry my present wife. I married her in Alabama and +Elder Worthy wuz de preacher. We had seven chillun, all grandchillun are +dead. I don't know where dey all are at excepting me daughter in +Steubenville and she is a widow. She been keepin' rooms and wash a +little for her living. + +I didn't hear much bout de politics but I think Abraham Lincoln done +pretty well. I reckon Jefferson Davis did the best he knowed how. Booker +T. Washington, I nebber seen him, but he wuz a great man. + +Religion is all right; can't find no fault with religion. I think all of +us ought to be religious because the dear Lord died for us all. Dis +world would be a better place if we all were religious. + + +Word Picture of MR. MCMILLAN + +Thomas McMillan, 909 Morris Ave., Steubenville, Ohio. He lives with his +wife, Toby who is over 50 years old. He makes his living using a hand +cart to collect junk. He is 5'6" tall and weighs 155 pounds. His beard +is gray and hair white and close cropped. He attends Mt. Zion Baptist +Church and lives his religion. He is able to read a little and takes +pleasure in reading the bible and newspaper. + +He has seven children. He has not heard of them for several years except +one daughter who lives in Steubenville and is a widow. + +His home is a three room shack and his landlord lets him stay there rent +free. The houses in the general surrounding are in a run down condition. + + + + +Wilbur Ammon, Editor +George Conn, Writer +C.R. McLean, District Supervisor +June 16, 1937 + +Folklore +Summit County, District #9 + +SARAH MANN + + +Mrs. Mann places her birth sometime in 1861 during the first year of the +Civil War, on a plantation owned by Dick Belcher, about thirty miles +southwest of Richmond, Virginia. + +Her father, Frederick Green, was owned by Belcher and her mother, Mandy +Booker, by Race Booker on an adjoining plantation. Her grandparents were +slaves of Race Booker. + +After the slaves were freed she went with her parents to Clover Hill, a +small hamlet, where she worked out as a servant until she married +Beverly Mann. Rev. Mike Vason, a white minister, performed the ceremony +with, only her parents and a few friends present. At the close of the +ceremony, the preacher asked if they would "live together as Isaac and +Rebecca did." Upon receiving a satisfactory reply, he pronounced them +man and wife. + +Mr. and Mrs. Mann were of a party of more than 100 ex-slaves who left +Richmond in 1880 for Silver Creek where Mr. Mann worked in the coal +mines. Two years later they moved to Wadsworth where their first child +was born. + +In 1883 they came to Akron. Mr. Mann, working as laborer, was able to +purchase two houses on Furnace Street, the oldest and now one of the +poorer negro sections of the city. It is situated on a high bluff +overlooking the Little Cuyahoga River. + +Today Mrs. Mann, her daughter, a son-in-law and one grandchild occupy +one of the houses. Three children were born to Mr. and Mrs. Mann, but +only one is living. Mr. Mann, a deacon in the church, died three years +ago. Time has laid its heavy hand on her property. It is the average +home of colored people living in this section, two stories, small front +yeard, enclosed with wooden picket fence. A large coal stove in front +room furnishes heat. In recent years electricity has supplanted the +overhead oil lamp. + +Most of the furnishings were purchased in early married life. They are +somewhat worn but arranged in orderly manner and are clean. + +Mrs. Mann is tall and angular. Her hair is streaked with gray, her face +thin, with eyes and cheek bones dominating. With little or no southern +accent, she speaks freely of her family, but refrains from discussing +affairs of others of her race. + +She is a firm believer in the Bible. It is apparent she strives to lead +a religious life according to her understanding. She is a member of the +Second Baptist Church since its organization in 1892. + +Having passed her three score and ten years she is "ready to go when the +Lord calls her." + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Bishop & Isleman +Reporter: Bishop +(Revision) +July 8, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-Slaves +Jefferson County, District #5 + +JOHN WILLIAMS MATHEUS +Ex-Slave, 77 years + + +"My mothers name was Martha. She died when I was eleven months old. My +mother was owned by Racer Blue and his wife Scotty. When I was bout +eleven or twelve they put me out with Michael Blue and his wife Mary. +Michael Blue was a brother to Racer Blue. Racer Blue died when I was +three or four. I have a faint rememberance of him dying suddenly one +night and see him laying out. He was the first dead person I saw and it +seemed funny to me to see him laying there so stiff and still." + +"I remember the Yankee Soldier, a string of them on horses, coming +through Springfield, W. Va. It was like a circus parade. What made me +remember that, was a colored man standing near me who had a new hat on +his head. A soldier came by and saw the hat and he took it off the +colored man's head, and put his old dirty one on the colored man's head +and put the nice new one on his own head." + +"I think Abraham Lincoln the greatest man that ever lived. He belonged +to no church; but he sure was Christian. I think he was born for the +time and if he lived longer he would have done lots of good for the +colored people." + +"I wore jeans and they got so stiff when they were wet that they would +stand up. I wore boots in the winter, but none in the summer." + +"When slavery was going on there was the 'underground railway' in Ohio. +But after the surrender some of the people in Ohio were not so good to +the colored people. The old folks told me they were stoned when they +came across the river to Ohio after the surrender and that the colored +people were treated like cats and dogs." + +"Mary Blue had two daughters, both a little older than me and I played +with them. One day they went to pick berries. When they came back they +left the berries on the table in the kitchen and went to the front room +to talk to their mother. I remember the two steps down to the room and I +came to listen to them tell about berry pickin'. Then their mother told +me to go sweep the kitchen. I went and took the broom and saw the +berries. I helped myself to the berries. Mary wore soft shoes, so I did +not hear her coming until she was nearly in the room. I had berries in +my hand and I closed my hand around the handle of the broom with the +berries in my hand. She says, 'John, what are you doin'? I say, +'nothin'. Den she say, 'Let me see your hand! I showed her my hand with +nothin' in it. She say, 'let me see the other hand! I had to show her my +hand with the berries all crushed an the juice on my hand and on the +handle of the broom." + +"Den she say; 'You done two sins'. 'You stole the berries!, I don't mind +you having the berries, but you should have asked for them. 'You stole +them and you have sinned. 'Den you told a lie! She says, 'John I must +punish you, I want you to be a good man; don't try to be a great man, be +a good man then you will be a great man! She got a switch off a peach +tree and she gave me a good switching. I never forgot being caught with +the berries and the way she talked bout my two sins. That hurt me worse +than the switching. I never stole after that." + +"I stayed with Michael and Mary Blue till I was nineteen. They were +supposed to give me a saddle and bridle, clothes and a hundred dollars. +The massa made me mad one day. I was rendering hog fat. When the +crackling would fizzle, he hollo and say 'don't put so much fire.' He +came out again and said, 'I told you not to put too much fire,' and he +threatened to give me a thrashing. I said, 'If you do I will throw rocks +at you.'" + +"After that I decided to leave and I told Anna Blue I was going. She +say, 'Don't do it, you are too young to go out into the world.' I say, I +don't care, and I took a couple of sacks and put in a few things and +walked to my uncle. He was a farmer at New Creek. He told me he would +get me a job at his brothers farm until they were ready to use me in the +tannary. He gave me eight dollars a month until the tanner got ready to +use me. I went to the tanner and worked for eight dollars a week. Then I +came to Steubenville. I got work and stayed in Steubenville 18 months. +Then I went back and returned to Steubenville in 1884." + + +Word Picture of JOHN WILLIAM MATHEUS + +Mr. John William Matheus is about 5'4" and weighs about 130 pounds. He +looks smart in his bank messenger uniform. On his sleeve he wears nine +stripes. Each stripe means five years service. Two years were served +before he earned his first strip, so that gives him a total of 47 years +service for the Union Savings Bank and Trust Company, Steubenville, +Ohio. He also wears a badge which designates him as a deputy sheriff of +Jefferson County. + +Mr. Matheus lives with his wife at 203 Dock Street. This moderate sized +and comfortable home he has owned for over 40 years. His first wife died +several years ago. During his first marriage nine children came to them. +In his second marriage one child was born. + +His oldest son is John Frederick Matheus. He is a professor at +[Charleston] [HW: West Virginia] State College Institute. He was born in +Steubenville and graduated from Steubenville High School. Later he +studied in Cleveland and New York. He speaks six languages fluently and +is the author of many published short stories. + +Two other sons are employed in the post office, one is a mail carrier +and the other is a janitor. His only daughter is a domestic servant. + +Mr. Matheus attended school in Springfield, W. Va., for four years. When +he came to Steubenville he attended night school for two winters. Mr. +Dorhman J. Sinclair who founded the Union Savings Bank and Trust Co., +employed Mr. Matheus from the beginning and in recognition of his loyal +service bequeated to Mr. Matheus a pension of fifty dollars per month. + +Mr. Matheus is a member of the office board of the Quinn Memorial A.M.E. +He has been an elder of that church for many years and also trustee and +treasure. He frequently serves on the jury. He is well known and highly +respected in the community. + + + + +Sarah Probst, Reporter +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor + +Folklore: Ex-Slaves +Meigs County, District Three + +MR. WILLIAM NELSON +Aged 88 + + +"Whar's I bawned? 'Way down Belmont Missouri, jes' cross frum C'lumbus +Kentucky on de Mississippi. Oh, I 'lows 'twuz about 1848, caise I wuz +fo'teen when Marse Ben done brung me up to de North home with him in +1862." + +"My Pappy, he wuz 'Kaintuck', John Nelson an' my mammy wuz Junis Nelson. +No suh, I don't know whar dey wuz bawned, first I member 'bout wuz my +pappy buildin' railroad in Belmont. Yes suh, I had five sistahs and +bruthahs. Der names--lets see--Oh yes--der wuz, John, Jim, George, Suzan +and Ida. No, I don't member nothin' 'bout my gran'parents." + +"My mammy had her own cabin for hur and us chilluns. De wuz rails stuck +through de cracks in de logs fo' beds with straw on top fo' to sleep +on." + +"What'd I do, down dar on plantashun? I hoed corn, tatahs, garden +onions, and hepped take cair de hosses, mules an oxen. Say--I could hoe +onions goin' backwards. Yessuh, I cud." + +"De first money I see wuz what I got frum sum soljers fo' sellin' dem a +bucket of turtl' eggs. Dat wuz de day I run away to see sum Yankee +steamboats filled with soljers." + +"Marse Dick, Marse Beckwith's son used to go fishin' with me. Wunce we +ketched a fish so big it tuk three men to tote it home. Yes suh, we +always had plenty to eat. What'd I like best? Corn pone, ham, bacon, +chickens, ducks and possum. My mammy had hur own garden. In de summah +men folks weah overalls, and de womins weah cotton and all of us went +barefooted. In de winter we wore shoes made on de plantashun. I wuzn't +married 'til aftah I come up North to Ohio." + +"Der wuz Marse Beckwith, mighty mean ol' devel; Miss Lucy, his wife, and +de chilluns, Miss Manda, Miss Nan, and Marse Dick, and the other son wuz +killed in der war at Belmont. Deir hous' wuz big and had two stories and +porticoes and den Marse Beckwith owned land with cabins on 'em whar de +slaves lived." + +"No suh, we didn't hab no driver, ol' Marse dun his own drivin'. He was +a mean ol' debel and whipped his slaves of'n and hard. He'd make 'em +strip to the waist then he's lash 'em with his long blacksnake whip. Ol' +Marse he'd whip womin same as men. I member seein' 'im whip my mammy +wunce. Marse Beckwith used the big smoke hous' for de jail. I neber see +no slaves sold but I have seen 'em loaned and traded off." + +"I member one time a slave named Tom and his wife, my mammy an' me tried +to run away, but we's ketched and brung back. Ol' Marse whipped Tom and +my mammy and den sent Tom off on a boat." + +"One day a white man tol' us der wuz a war and sum day we'd be free." + +"I neber heard of no 'ligion, baptizing', nor God, nor Heaven, de Bible +nor education down on de plantashun, I gues' dey didn't hab nun of 'em. +When Marse Ben brung me North to Ohio with him wuz first time I knowed +'bout such things. Marse Ben and Miss Lucy mighty good to me, sent me to +school and tole me 'bout God and Heaven and took me to Church. No, de +white folks down dar neber hepped me to read or write." + +"The slaves wus always tiahed when dey got wurk dim in evenins' so dey +usually went to bed early so dey'd be up fo' clock next mornin'. On +Christmas Day dey always had big dinna but no tree or gifts." + +"How'd I cum North? Well, one day I run 'way from plantashun and hunted +'til I filled a bucket full turtl' eggs den I takes dem ovah on river +what I hears der's sum Yankee soljers and de soljers buyed my eggs and +hepped me on board de boat. Den Marse Ben, he wuz Yankee ofser, tol 'em +he take cair me and he did. Den Marse Ben got sick and cum home and +brung me along and I staid with 'em 'til I wuz 'bout fo'ty, when I gets +married and moved to Wyllis Hill. My wife, was Mary Williams, but she +died long time 'go and so did our little son, since dat time I've lived +alone." + +"Yessuh, I'se read 'bout Booker Washington." + +"I think Abraham Lincoln wuz a mighty fine man, he is de 'Saint of de +colured race'." + +"Good day suh." + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Bishop & Isleman +Jun 9, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-Slaves +Jefferson County, District #2 + +MRS. CATHERINE SLIM +Ex-slave, 87 years, +939 N. 6th St., Steubenville + + +I wuz born in Rockingham, Virginny; a beautiful place where I cum from. +My age is en de courthouse, Harrisonburg, Virginny. I dunno de date of +my birth, our massa's wouldn't tell us our age. + +My mother's name wuz Sally. She wuz a colored woman and she died when I +wuz a little infant. I don't remember her. She had four chillun by my +father who wuz a white man. His name wuz Jack Rose. He made caskets for +de dead people. + +My mother had six chillun altogether. De name of de four by my father +wuz, Frances de oldest sister, Sarah wuz next, den Mary. I am de baby, +all three are dead cept me. I am very last one livin'. + +I had two half-brudders, dey were slaves too, John and Berwin. Berwin +wuz drowned in W. Va. He wuz bound out to Hamsburger and drowned just +after he got free. Dey did not sold infant slaves. Den dey bound out by +de court. John got free and went to Liberia and died after he got there. +He wuz my oldest brudder. + +I wuz bound out by de court to Marse Barley and Miss Sally. I had to git +up fore daylight and look at de clock wid de candle. I held up de candle +to de clock, but couldn't tell de time. Den dey ask me if de little hand +wuz on three mark or four mark. Dey wouldn't tell me de time but bye and +bye I learned de time myself. + +I asked de mistress to learn me a book and she sez, "Don't yo know we +not allowed to learn you niggers nothin', don't ask me dat no more. I'll +kill you if you do." I wuzn't goin' to ask her dat anymore. + +When I wuz ten years old I wuz doin' women's work. I learned to do a +little bit of eberthin'. I worked on de farm and I worked in de house. I +learned to do a little bit of eberthin'. On de farm I did eberthin' cept +plow. + +I lived in a nice brick house. En de front wuz de valley pike. It wuz +four and three-quarter miles to Harrisonburg and three and three-quarter +miles to Mt. Crawford. It wuz a lobley place and a fine farm. + +I used to sleep in a waggoner's bed. It wuz like a big bed-comfort, +stuffed with wool. I laid it on de floor and sleep on it wid a blanket +ober me, when I get up I roll up de bed and push it under de mistress's +bed. + +I earned money, but nebber got it. Dey wuz so mean I run away. I think +dey wuz so mean dat dey make me run away and den dey wouldn't heb to pay +de money. If I could roll up my sleeve I could show you a mark that cum +from a beatin' I had wid a cow-hide whip. Dey whip me for nothin'. + +After I run away I had around until the surrender cum. Eberybody cum to +life then. It wuz a hot time in de ole place when dey sezs freedom. The +colored ones jumped straight up and down. + +De feed us plenty. We had pork, corn, rabbit, dey hed eberythin' nice. +Dey made us stan' up to eat. Dey no low us sit down to eat. Der wuz bout +twenty or thirty slaves on de farm an some ob dem hed der own gardens. +Anythin' dey gib us to eat I liked. Dey had bees and honey. + +I wore little calico dress in de summer, white, red, and blue. Some hed +flowers and some hed strips. We went barefooted until Christmas. Den dey +gabe us shoes. De shoes were regular ole common shoes; not eben +calfskin. Dey weaved linen and made us our clothes. Dey hab sleeves, +plain body and little skirt. I hed two of dem for winter. + +I hab seen lots of slaves chained together, goin' south, some wuz +singin' and some wuz cryin'. Some hed dey chillun and some didn't. + +Dey took me to church wid dem and dey put me behind de door. Dey tole me +to set der till dey cum out. And when I see dem cumin' out to follow +behind and get into de carrage. I dursent say nothin'. I wuz like a +petty dog. + + + + +INTERVIEW OF EX-SLAVE FROM VIRGINIA +Reported by Rev. Edward Knox +Jun. 9, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-slaves +Guernsey County, District #2 + +JENNIE SMALL +Ex-slave, over 80 years of age + + +I was born in Pocahontas County, Virginia in the drab and awful +surroundings of slavery. The whipping post and cruelty in general made +an indelible impression in my mind. I can see my older brothers in their +tow-shirts that fell knee-length which was sometimes their only garment, +toiling laborously under a cruel lash as the burning sun beamed down +upon their backs. + +Pappy McNeal (we called the master Pappy) was cruel and mean. Nothing +was too hard, too sharp, or too heavy to throw at an unfortunate slave. +I was very much afraid of him; I think as much for my brothers' sakes as +for my own. Sometimes in his fits of anger, I was afraid he might kill +someone. However, one happy spot in my heart was for his son-in-law who +told us: "Do not call Mr. McNeal the master, no one is your master but +God, call Mr. McNeal, mister." I have always had a tender spot in my +heart for him. + +There are all types of farm work to do and also some repair work about +the barns and carriages. It was one of these carriages my brother was +repairing when the Yankees came, but I am getting ahead of my story. + +I was a favorite of my master. I had a much better sleeping quarters +than my brothers. Their cots were made of straw or corn husks. Money was +very rare but we were all well-fed and kept. We wore tow-shirts which +were knee-length, and no shoes. Of course, some of the master's +favorites had some kind of footwear. + +There were many slaves on our plantation. I never saw any of them +auctioned off or put in chains. Our master's way of punishment was the +use of the whipping post. When we received cuts from the whip he put +soft soap and salt into our wounds to prevent scars. He did not teach us +any reading or writing; we had no special way of learning; we picked up +what little we knew. + +When we were ill on our plantation, Dr. Wallace, a relative of Master +McNeal, took care of us. We were always taught to fear the Yankees. One +day I was playing in the yard of our master, with the master's little +boy. Some Yankee Soldiers came up and we hid, of course, because we had +been taught to fear the soldiers. One Yankee soldier discovered me, +however, and took me on his knee and told me that they were our friends +end not our enemies; they were here to help us. After that I loved them +instead of fearing them. When we received our freedom, our master was +very sorry, because we had always done all their work, and hard labor. + + + + +Geo. H. Conn, Writer +Wilbur C. Ammon, Editor +C.R. McLean, District Supervisor +June 11, 1937 + +Folklore +Summit County, District #5 + +ANNA SMITH + + +In a little old rocking chair, sits an old colored "mammy" known to her +friends as "Grandma" Smith, spending the remaining days with her +grandchildren. Small of stature, tipping the scales at about 100 lbs. +but alert to the wishes and cares of her children, this old lady keeps +posted on current events from those around her. With no stoop or bent +back and with a firm step she helps with the housework and preparing of +meals, waiting, when permitted, on others. In odd moments, she like to +work at her favorite task of "hooking" rag rugs. Never having worn +glasses, her eyesight is the envy of the younger generation. She spends +most of the time at home, preferring her rocker and pipe (she has been +smoking for more than eighty year) to a back seat in an automobile. + +When referring to Civil War days, her eyes flash and words flow from her +with a fluency equal to that of any youngster. Much of her speech is +hard to understand as she reverts to the early idiom and pronunciation +of her race. Her head, tongue, arms and hands all move at the same time +as she talks. + +A note of hesitancy about speaking of her past shows at times when she +realizes she is talking to one not of her own race, but after eight +years in the north, where she has been treated courteously by her white +neighbors, that old feeling of inferiority under which she lived during +slave days and later on a plantation in Kentucky has about disappeared. + +Her home is comfortably furnished two story house with a front porch +where, in the comfort of an old rocking chair, she smokes her pipe and +dreams as the days slip away. Her children and their children are +devoted to her. With but a few wants or requests her days a re quiet and +peaceful. + +Kentucky with its past history still retains its hold. She refers to it +as "God's Chosen Land" and would prefer to end her days where about +eighty years of her life was spent. + +On her 101st birthday (1935) she posed for a picture, seated in her +favorite chair with her closest friend, her pipe. + +Abraham Lincoln is as big a man with her today as when he freed her +people. + +With the memories of the Civil War still fresh in her mind and and +secret longing to return to her Old Kentucky Home, Mrs. Anna Smith, born +in May of 1833 and better known to her friends as "Grandma" Smith, is +spending her remaining days with her grandchildren, in a pleasant home +at 518 Bishop Street. + +On a plantation owned by Judge Toll, on the banks of the Ohio River at +Henderson, Ke., Anna (Toll) Smith was born. From her own story, and +information gathered from other sources the year 1835 is as near a +correct date as possible to obtain. + +Anna Smith's parents were William Clarke and Miranda Toll. Her father +was a slave belonging to Judge Toll. It was common practice for slaves +to assume the last name of their owners. + +It was before war was declared between the north and south that she was +married, for she claims her daughter was "going on three" when President +Lincoln freed the slaves. Mrs. Smith remembers her father who died at +the age of 117 years. + +Her oldest brother was 50 when he joined the confederate army. Three +other brothers were sent to the front. One was an ambulance attendant, +one belonged to the cavalry, one an orderly seargeant and the other +joined the infantry. All were killed in action. Anna Smith's husband +later joined the war and was reported killed. + +When she became old enough for service she was taken into the "Big +House" of her master, where she served as kitchen helper, cook and later +as nurse, taking care of her mistress' second child. + +She learned her A.B.C.'s by listening to the tutor teaching the children +of Judge Toll. + +"Grandma" Smith's vision is the wonder of her friends. She has never +worn glasses and can distinguish objects and people at a distance as +readily as at close range. She occupies her time by hooking rag rugs and +doing housework and cooking. She is "on the go" most of the time, but +when need for rest overtakes her, she resorts to her easy chair, a +pipeful of tobacco and a short nap and she is ready to carry on. + +Many instances during those terrible war days are fresh in her mind: men +and boys, in pairs and groups passing the "big house" on their way to +the recruiting station on the public square, later going back in squads +and companies to fight; Yankee soldiers raiding the plantation, taking +corn and hay or whatever could be used by the northern army; and +continual apprehension for the menfolk at the front. + +She remembers the baying of blood hounds at night along the Ohio River, +trying to follow the scent of escaping negroes and the crack of firearms +as white people, employed by the plantation owners attempted to halt the +negroes in their efforts to cross the Ohio River into Ohio or to join +the Federal army. + +Referring to her early life, she recalls no special outstanding events. +Her treatment from her master and mistress was pleasant, always +receiving plenty of food and clothing but never any money. + +In a grove not far from the plantation home, the slaves from the nearby +estates meet on Sunday for worship. Here under the spreading branches +they gathered for religious worship and to exchange news. + +When President Lincoln issued his proclamation freeing the slaves, and +the news reached the plantation, she went to her master to learn if she +was free. On learning it was true she returned to her parents who were +living on another plantation. + +She has been living with her grandchildren for the past nine years, +contented but ready to go when the "Good Lord calls her." + + + + +Sarah Probst, Reporter +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor +Jun 9, 1937 + +Folklore +Meigs County, District Three +[HW: Middeport] + +NAN STEWART +Age 87 + + +"I'se bawned Charl'stun, West Virginia in February 1850." + +"My mammy's name? Hur name wuz Kath'run Paine an' she wuz bawned down +Jackson County, Virginia. My pappy wuz John James, a coopah an' he wuz +bawned at Rock Creek, West Virginia. He cum'd ovah heah with Lightburn's +Retreat. Dey all crossed de ribah at Buffington Island. Yes, I had two +bruthahs and three sistahs. Deir wuz Jim, Thomas, he refugeed from +Charl'stun to Pum'roy and it tuk him fo' months, den de wuz sistah Adah, +Carrie an' Ella. When I rite young I wurked as hous' maid fo' numbah +quality white folks an' latah on I wuz nurs' fo' de chilluns in sum +homes, heah abouts." + +"Oh, de slaves quartahs, dey wuz undah de sam' ruf with Marse Hunt's big +hous' but in de back. When I'se littl' I sleeped in a trun'l bed. My +mammy wuz mighty 'ticlar an' clean, why she made us chilluns wash ouah +feets ebry night fo' we git into de bed." + +"When Marse Hunt muved up to Charl'stun, my mammy and pappy liv' in log +cabin." + +"My gran' mammy, duz I 'member hur? Honey chile, I shure duz. She wuz my +pappy's mammy. She wuz one hun'erd and fo' yeahs ol' when she die rite +in hur cheer. Dat mawhin' she eat a big hearty brekfast. One day I +'member she sezs to Marse Hunt, 'I hopes you buys hun'erds an' hun'erds +ob slaves an' neber sells a one. Hur name wuz Erslie Kizar Chartarn." + +"Marse an' missus, mighty kind to us slaves. I lurned to sew, piece +quilts, clean de brass an' irons an' dog irons. Most time I set with de +ol' ladies, an' light deir pipes, an' tote 'em watah, in gourds. I us' +tu gether de turkey eggs an' guinea eggs an' sell 'em. I gits ten cents +duzen fo' de eggs. Marse and Missus wuz English an' de count money like +dis--fo' pence, ha' penny. Whut I do with my money? Chile I saved it to +buy myself a nankeen dress." + +"Yes mam we always had plenty to eat. What'd I like bes' to eat, +waffl's, honey and stuffed sausage, but I spise possum and coon. Marse +Hunt had great big meat hous' chuck full all kinds of meats. Say, do you +all know Marse used to keep stuffed sausage in his smoke hous' fo' yeahs +an' it wuz shure powahful good when it wuz cooked. Ouah kitchin wuz big +an' had great big fiah place whur we'd bake ouah bread in de ashes. We +baked ouah corn pone an' biskets in a big spidah. I still have dat +spidah an' uses it." + +"By the way you knows Squire Gellison wuz sum fishahman an' shure to +goodness ketched lots ob fish. Why he'd ketch so many, he'd clean 'em, +cut 'em up, put 'em in half barrels an' pass 'em 'round to de people on +de farms." + +"Most de slaves on Marse Hunt's place had dir own garden patches. +Sumtimes dey'd have to hoe the gardens by moonlight. Dey sell deir +vegetables to Marse Hunt." + +"In de summah de women weah dresses and apruns made ob linen an' men +weah pants and shurts ob linen. Linsey-woolsey and jean wuz woven on de +place fo' wintah clothes. We had better clothes to weah on Sunday and we +weahed shoes on Sunday. The' shoes and hoots wuz made on de plantashun." + +"My mastah wuz Marse Harley Hunt an' his wife wuz Miss Maria Sanders +Hunt. Marse and Miss Hunt didn't hab no chilluns of der own but a nephew +Marse Oscar Martin and niece Miss Mary Hunt frum Missouri lived with +'em. Dey's all kind to us slaves. De Hous' wuz great big white frame +with picket fence all 'round de lot. When we lived Charl'stun Marse Hunt +wuz a magistrate. Miss Hunt's muthah and two aunts lived with 'em." + +"No mam, we didn't hab no ovahseeah. Marse Hunt had no use fo' +ovahseeahs, fact is he 'spise 'em. De oldah men guided de young ones in +deir labors. The poor white neighbahs wurn't 'lowed to live very close +to de plantashun as Marse Hunt wanted de culured slave chilluns to be +raised in propah mannah." + +"I duzn't know how many acres in de plantashun. Deir wuz only 'bout +three or fo' cabins on de place. Wurk started 'bout seben clock 'cept +harvest time when ebrybudy wuz up early. De slaves didn't wurk so hard +nor bery late at night. Slaves wuz punished by sendin' 'em off to bed +early. + +"When I'se livin' at Red House I seed slaves auctioned off. Ol' Marse +Veneable sold ten or lebin slaves, women and chilluns, to niggah tradahs +way down farthah south. I well 'members day Aunt Millie an' Uncl' Edmund +wuz sold--dir son Harrison wuz bought by Marse Hunt. 'Twuz shure sad an' +folks cried when Aunt Millie and Uncl' Edmund wuz tuk away. Harrison +neber see his mammy an' pappy agin. Slaves wuz hired out by de yeah fo' +nine hundred dollahs." + +"Marse Hunt had schools fo' de slaves chilluns. I went to school on +Lincoln Hill, too." + +"Culured preachahs use to cum to plantashun an' dey would read de Bible +to us. I 'member one special passage preachahs read an' I neber +understood it 'til I cross de riber at Buffinton Island. It wuz, 'But +they shall sit every man under his own vine and under his fig tree; and +none shall make them afraid; for the mouth of the Lord of Hosts hath +spoken it." Micah 4:4. Den I knows it is de fulfillment ob dat promis; +'I would soon be undah my own vine an' fig tree' and hab no feah of +bein' sold down de riber to a mean Marse. I recalls der wuz Thorton +Powell, Ben Sales and Charley Releford among de preachahs. De church wuz +quite aways frum de hous'. When der'd be baptizins de sistahs and +brethruns would sing 'Freely, freely will you go with me, down to the +riber'. 'Freely, freely quench your thirst Zion's sons and daughtahs'." + +"How wells I 'member when I wuz converted. I'd thought 'bout 'ligion a +lot but neber wunce wuz I muved to repent. One day I went out to cut sum +wood an' begin thinkin' agin and all wunce I feeled so relieved an' good +an' run home to tell granny an' de uthahs dat I'd cum out at last." + +"No, we didn't wurk on Saturday aftahnoons. Christmas wuz big time at +Marse Hunts hous'. Preparations wuz made fo' it two weeks fo' day cum. +Der wuz corn sings an' big dances, 'ceptin' at 'ligious homes. Der wuz +no weddins' at Marse Hunts, cause dey had no chilluns an' de niece and +nephew went back to own homes to git married." + +"We played sich games as marbles; yarn ball; hop, skip, an' jump; mumble +peg an' pee wee. Wunce I's asked to speak down to white chilluns school +an' dis is what I speak: + + 'The cherries are ripe, + The cherries are ripe, + Oh give the baby one, + The baby is too little to chew, + The robin I see up in the tree, + Eating his fill and shaking his bill, + And down his throat they run.' + +Another one: + + 'Tobacco is an Indian weed, + And from the devil doth proceed + It robs the pocket and burns the clothes + And makes a chimney of the nose.' + +"When de slaves gits sick, deir mammies luked af'er em but de Marse +gived de rem'dies. Yes, dere wuz dif'runt kinds, salts, pills, Castah +orl, herb teas, garlic, 'fedia, sulphah, whiskey, dog wood bark, +sahsaparilla an' apple root. Sometimes charms wuz used. + +"I 'member very well de day de Yankees cum. De slaves all cum a runnin' +an' yellin': "Yankees is cumin', Yankee soljers is comin', hurrah". Bout +two or three clock, we herd bugles blowing' an' guns on Taylah Ridge. +Kids wuz playin' an' all 'cited. Sumone sed: "Kathrun, sumthin' awful +gwine happen", an' sumone else sez; "De' is de Yankees". De Yankee mens +camp on ouah farm an' buyed ouah buttah, milk an' eggs. Marse Hunt, whut +you all call 'bilionist [HW: abolitionist] an' he wuz skeered of suthern +soljers an' went out to de woods an' laid behind a log fo' seben weeks +and seben days, den he 'cided to go back home. He sez he had a dream an' +prayed, "I had bettah agone, but I prayed. No use let des debils take +you, let God take you." We tote food an' papahs to Marse while he wuz a +hidin'." + +"One ob my prized possessions is Abraham Lincoln's pictures an' I'se +gwine to gib it to a culured young man whose done bin so kind to me, +when I'se gone. Dat's Bookah T. Washington's picture ovah thar." + +"I'se married heah in Middeport by Preachah Bill, 1873. My husban' wuz +Charles Stewart, son of Johnny Stewart. Deir wuz hous' full my own +folks, mammy, pappy, sistahs, bruthas, an' sum white folks who cumed in +to hep dress me up fo' de weddin'. We kep de weddin' a secrut an' my +aunt butted hur horns right off tryin' to fin' out when it wuz. My +husban' had to leave right away to go to his job on de boat. We had +great big dinnah, two big cakes an' ice cream fo' desurt. We had fo'teen +chilluns with only two livin'. I has five gran' sons an' two great gran' +daughters." + +"Goodbye--cum back agin." + + + + +Miriam Logan, Lebanon, Ohio +Warren County, Dist. 2 +July 2, 1937 + +Interview with SAMUEL SUTTON, Ex Slave. +Born in Garrett County, Kentucky, in 1854 + +(drawing of Sutton) [TR: no drawing found] + + +"Yes'em, I sho were bo'n into slavery. Mah mothah were a cook--(they was +none betteah)--an she were sold four times to my knownin'. She were part +white, for her fathah were a white man. She live to be seventy-nine +yeahs an nine months old." + +"Ah was bo'n in Garrett County, but were raised by ol' Marster Ballinger +in Knox County, an' ah don remember nothin 'bout Garrett County." When +Lincoln was elected last time, I were about eight yeahs ol'." + +"Ol' Marster own 'bout 400-acres, n' ah don' know how many slaves--maybe +30. He'd get hard up fo money n' sell one or two; then he'd get a lotta +work on hands, an maybe buy one or two cheap,--go 'long lak dat you +see." He were a good man, Ol' Mars Ballinger were--a preacher, an he wuk +hisse'f too. Ol' Mis' she pretty cross sometime, but ol' Mars, he +weren't no mean man, an ah don' 'member he evah whip us. Yes'em dat ol' +hous is still standin' on the Lexington-Lancaster Pike, and las time I +know, Baby Marster he were still livin." + +"Ol' Mars. tuk us boys out to learn to wuk when we was both right little +me and Baby Mars. Ah wuz to he'p him, an do what he tol' me to--an first +thing ah members is a learnin to hoe de clods. Corn an wheat Ol' Mars. +raised, an he sets us boys out fo to learn to wuk. Soon as he lef' us +Baby Mars, he'd want to eat; send me ovah to de grocery fo sardines an' +oysters. Nevah see no body lak oyster lak he do! Ah do n' lak dem. Ol +Mars. scold him--say he not only lazy hese'f, but he make me lazy too." + +"De Wah? Yes'em ah sees soldiers, Union Calvary [HW: Cavalry] goin' by, +dressed fine, wid gold braid on blue, an big boots. But de Rebels now, I +recollect dey had no uniforms fo dey wuz hard up, an dey cum in jes +common clothes. Ol' Mars., he were a Rebel, an he always he'p 'em. +Yes'em a pitched battle start right on our place. Didn't las' long, fo +dey wuz a runnin fight on to Perryville, whaah de one big battle to take +place in de State o' Kentucky, tuk place." + +"Most likely story I remembers to tell you 'bout were somepin made me +mad an I allus remember fo' dat. Ah had de bigges' fines' watermellon an +ah wuz told to set up on de fence wid de watermellon an show 'em, and +sell 'em fo twenty cents. Along cum a line o' soldiers." + +"Heigh there boy!... How much for the mellon?" holler one at me. + +"Twenty cents sir!" Ah say jes lak ah ben tol' to say; and he take dat +mellon right out o' mah arms an' ride off widout payin' me. Ah run after +dem, a tryin' to get mah money, but ah couldn't keep up wid dem soldiers +on hosses; an all de soldiers jes' laf at me." + +"Yes'em dat wuz de fines' big mellon ah evah see. Dat wuz right mean in +him--fine lookin gemman he were, at the head o' de line." + +"Ol' Marster Ballinger, he were a Rebel, an he harbors Rebels. Dey wuz +two men a hangin' around dere name o' Buell and Bragg." + +"Buell were a nawtherner; Bragg, he were a Reb." + +"Buell give Bragg a chance to get away, when he should have found out +what de Rebs were doin' an a tuk him prisoner ah heard tell about dat." + +"Dey wuz a lotta spyin', ridin' around dere fo' one thing and another, +but ah don' know what it were all about. I does know ah feels sorry fo +dem Rebel soldiers ah seen dat wuz ragged an tired, an all woe out, an +Mars. He fell pretty bad about everything sometimes, but ah reckon dey +wuz mean Rebs an southerners at had it all cumin' to em; ah allus heard +tell dey had it comin' to em." + +"Some ways I recollect times wuz lots harder after de War, some ways dey +was better. But now a culled man ain't so much better off 'bout votin' +an such some places yet, ah hears dat." + +"Yes'em, they come an want hosses once in awhile, an they was a rarin' +tarin' time atryin to catch them hosses fo they would run into the woods +befo' you could get ahold of 'em. Morgan's men come fo hosses once, an +ol Mars, get him's hosses, fo he were a Reb. Yes'em, but ah thinks them +hosses got away from the Rebels; seem lak ah heard they did." + +"Hosses? Ah wishes ah had me a team right now, and ah'd make me my own +good livin! No'em, don't want no mule. They is set on havin they own +way, an the contrariest critters! But a mule is a wuk animal, an eats +little. Lotsa wuk in a mule. Mah boy, he say, 'quit wukin, an give us +younguns a chance,' Sho nuf, they ain't the wuk they use to be, an the +younguns needs it. Ah got me a pension, an a fine garden; ain't it fine +now?" + +"Yes'em, lak ah tells you, the wah were ovah, and the culled folks had a +Big Time wid speakin'n everything ovah at Dick Robinsen's camp on de +4th. Nevah see such rejoicin on de Fourth 'o July since,-no'em, ah +ain't." + +"Ah seen two presidents, Grant an Hayes. I voted fo Hayes wen I wuz +twenty-two yeahs old. General Grant, he were runnin against Greeley when +ah heard him speak at Louieville. He tol what all Lincoln had done fo de +culled man. Yes'em, fine lookin man he were, an he wore a fine suit. +Yes'em ah ain't miss an election since ah were twenty-two an vote fo +Hayes. Ah ain't gonto miss none, an ah vote lak the white man read outa +de Emanicaption Proclamation, ah votes fo one ob Abe Lincoln's men ev'y +time--ah sho do." + +"_Run a way slaves?_ No'em nevah know ed of any. Mars. Ballinger +neighbor, old Mars. Tye--he harbor culled folks dat cum ask fo sumpin to +eat in winter--n' he get 'em to stay awhile and do a little wuk fo him. +Now, he did always have one or two 'roun dere dat way,--dat ah +recollects--dat he didn't own. Maybe dey was runaway, maybe dey wuz just +tramps an didn't belong to noboddy. Nevah hear o' anybody claimin' +dem--dey stay awhile an wuk, den move on--den mo' cum, wuk while then +move on. Mars. Tye--he get his wuk done dat way, cheap. + +"No'em, don't believe in anything lak dat much. We use to sprinkle salt +in a thin line 'roun Mars. Ballinger's house, clear 'roun, to ward off +quarellin an arguein' an ol' Miss Ballinger gettin a cross spell,--dat +ah members, an then too;--ah don believe in payin out money on a Monday. +You is liable to be a spendin an a losin' all week if you do. Den ah +don' want see de new moon (nor ol' moon either) through, de branches o' +trees. Ah know' a man dat see de moon tru de tree branches, an he were +lookin' tru de bars 'a jail fo de month were out--an fo sumpin he nevah +done either,--jus enuf bad luck--seein a moon through bush." + +"Ah been married twice, an had three chillens. Mah oles' are Madge +Hannah, an she sixty yeah ol' an still a teachin' at the Indian School +where she been fo twenty-two yeahs now. She were trained at Berea in +High School then Knoxville; then she get mo' learnin in Nashville in +some course." + +"Mah wife died way back yonder in 1884. Then when ah gets married again, +mah wife am 32 when ah am 63. No'am, no mo' chillens. Ah lives heah an +farms, an takes care ob mah sick girl, an mah boy, he live across the +lane thah." + +"No'em, no church, no meetin hous fo us culled people in Kentucky befo' +de wah. Dey wuz prayin folks, and gets to meetin' at each othah's houses +when dey is sumpin a pushin' fo prayer. No'em no school dem days, fo +us." "Ol Mars., he were a preacher, he knowed de Bible, an tells out +verses fo us--dats all ah members. Yes'em Ah am Baptist now, and ah sho +do believe in a havin church." + +"Ah has wuked on steam boats, an done railroad labor, an done a lotta +farmin, an ah likes to farm best. Like to live in Ohio best. Ah can +_vote_. If ah gits into trouble, de law give us a chance fo our +property, same as if we were white. An we can vote lak white, widout no +shootin, no fightin' about it--dats what ah likes. Nevah know white men +to be so mean about anythin as dey is about votin some places--No'em, ah +don't! Ah come heah in 1912. Ah was goin on to see mah daughter Madge +Hannah in Oklahoma, den dis girl come to me paralized, an ah got me work +heah in Lebanon, tendin cows an such at de creamery, an heah ah is evah +since. Yes'em an ah don' wanto go no wheres else." + +"No'em, no huntin' no mo. Useto hunt rabbit until las yeah. They ain't +wuth the price ob a license no mo." No'em, ah ain't evah fished in +Ohio." + +"No'em, nevah wuz no singer, no time. Not on steamboats, nor nowheres. +Don't member any songs, except maybe the holler we useto set up when dey +wuz late wid de dinner when we wuked on de steamboat;--Dey sing-song lak +dis:" + + 'Ol hen, she flew + Ovah de ga-rden gate, + Fo' she wuz dat hungrey + She jes' couldn't wait.' + +--but den dat ain't no real song." + +"Kentucky river is place to fish--big cat fish. Cat fish an greens is +good eatin. Ah seen a cat fish cum outa de Kentucky river 'lon as a man +is tall; an them ol' fins slap mah laig when ah carries him ovah mah +shoulder, an he tail draggin' on mah feet.--Sho nuf!" + +"No'em, ah jes cain't tell you all no cryin sad story 'bout beatin' an a +slave drivin, an ah don' know no ghost stories, ner nuthin'--ah is jes +dumb dat way--ah's sorry 'bout it, but ah Jes--is." + +Samuel Sutton lives in north lane Lebanon, just back of the French +Creamery. He has one acre of land, a little unpainted, poorly furnished +and poorly kept. His daughter is a huge fleshy colored woman wears a +turban on her head. She has a fixed smile; says not a word. Samuel talks +easily; answers questions directly; is quick in his movements. He is +stooped and may 5'7" or 8" if standing straight. He wears an old +fashioned "Walrus" mustache, and has a grey wooley fringe of hair about +his smooth chocolate colored bald head. He is very dark in color, but +his son is darker yet. His hearing is good. His sight very poor. Being +so young when the Civil War was over, he remembers little or nothing +about what the colored people thought or expected from freedom. He just +remembers what a big time there was on that first "Free Fourth of July." + + + + +Ruth Thompson, Interviewing +Graff, Editing + +Ex-Slave Interviews +Hamilton Co., District 12 +Cincinnati + +RICHARD TOLER +515 Poplar St., +Cincinnati, O. + +[Illustration: Richard Toler] + + +"Ah never fit in de wah; no suh, ah couldn't. Mah belly's been broke! +But ah sho' did want to, and ah went up to be examined, but they didn't +receive me on account of mah broken stomach. But ah sho' tried, 'cause +ah wanted to be free. Ah didn't like to be no slave. Dat wasn't good +times." + +Richard Toler, 515 Poplar Street, century old former slave lifted a bony +knee with one gnarled hand and crossed his legs, then smoothed his thick +white beard. His rocking chair creaked, the flies droned, and through +the open, unscreened door came the bawling of a calf from the building +of a hide company across the street. A maltese kitten sauntered into the +front room, which served as parlor and bedroom, and climbed complacently +into his lap. In one corner a wooden bed was piled high with feather +ticks, and bedecked with a crazy quilt and an number of small, +brightly-colored pillows; a bureau opposite was laden to the edges with +a collection of odds and ends--a one-legged alarm clock, a coal oil +lamp, faded aritifical flowers in a gaudy vase, a pile of newspapers. A +trunk against the wall was littered with several large books (one of +which was the family Bible), a stack of dusty lamp shades, a dingy +sweater, and several bushel-basket lids. Several packing cases and +crates, a lard can full of cracked ice, a small, round oil heating +stove, and an assorted lot of chairs completed the furnishings. The one +decorative spot in the room was on the wall over the bed, where hung a +large framed picture of Christ in The Temple. The two rooms beyond +exhibited various broken-down additions to the heterogeneous collection. + +"Ah never had no good times till ah was free", the old man continued. +"Ah was bo'n on Mastah Tolah's (Henry Toler) plantation down in ole +V'ginia, near Lynchburg in Campbell County. Mah pappy was a slave befo' +me, and mah mammy, too. His name was Gawge Washin'ton Tolah, and her'n +was Lucy Tolah. We took ouah name from ouah ownah, and we lived in a +cabin way back of the big house, me and mah pappy and mammy and two +brothahs. + +"They nevah mistreated me, neithah. They's a whipping the slaves all the +time, but ah run away all the time. And ah jus' tell them--if they +whipped me, ah'd kill 'em, and ah nevah did get a whippin'. If ah +thought one was comin' to me, Ah'd hide in the woods; then they'd send +aftah me, and they say, 'Come, on back--we won't whip you'. But they +killed some of the niggahs, whipped 'em to death. Ah guess they killed +three or fo' on Tolah's place while ah was there. + +"Ah nevah went to school. Learned to read and write mah name after ah +was free in night school, but they nevah allowed us to have a book in +ouah hand, and we couldn't have no money neither. If we had money we had +to tu'n it ovah to ouah ownah. Chu'ch was not allowed in ouah pa't +neithah. Ah go to the Meth'dist Chu'ch now, everybody ought to go. I +think RELIGION MUST BE FINE, 'CAUSE GOD ALMIGHTY'S AT THE HEAD OF IT." + +Toler took a small piece of ice from the lard can, popped it between his +toothless gum, smacking enjoyment, swished at the swarming flies with a +soiled rag handkerchief, and continued. + +"Ah nevah could unnerstand about ghos'es. Nevah did see one. Lots of +folks tell about seein' ghos'es, but ah nevah feared 'em. Ah was nevah +raised up undah such supastitious believin's. + +"We was nevah allowed no pa'ties, and when they had goin' ons at the big +house, we had to clear out. Ah had to wo'k hard all the time every day +in the week. Had to min' the cows and calves, and when ah got older ah +had to hoe in the field. Mastah Tolah had about 500 acres, so they tell +me, and he had a lot of cows and ho'ses and oxens, and he was a big +fa'mer. Ah've done about evahthing in mah life, blacksmith and stone +mason, ca'penter, evahthing but brick-layin'. Ah was a blacksmith heah +fo' 36 yea's. Learned it down at Tolah's. + +"Ah stayed on the plantation during the wah, and jes' did what they tol' +me. Ah was 21 then. And ah walked 50 mile to vote for Gen'l Grant at +Vaughn's precinct. Ah voted fo' him in two sessions, he run twice. And +ah was 21 the fust time, cause they come and got me, and say, 'Come on +now. You can vote now, you is 21.' And theah now--mah age is right +theah. 'Bout as close as you can get it. + +"Ah was close to the battle front, and I seen all dem famous men. Seen +Gen'l Lee, and Grant, and Abe Lincoln. Seen John Brown, and seen the +seven men that was hung with him, but we wasn't allowed to talk to any +of 'em, jes' looked on in the crowd. Jes' spoke, and say 'How d' do.' + +[HW: Harper's Ferry is not [TR: rest illegible]] + +"But ah did talk to Lincoln, and ah tol' him ah wanted to be free, and +he was a fine man, 'cause he made us all free. And ah got a ole histry, +it's the Sanford American History, and was published in _17_84[HW:18?]. +But ah don't know where it is now, ah misplaced it. It is printed in the +book, something ah said, not written by hand. And it says, 'Ah am a ole +slave which has suvved fo' 21 yeahs, and ah would be quite pleased if +you could help us to be free. We thank you very much. Ah trust that some +day ah can do you the same privilege that you are doing for me. Ah have +been a slave for many years.' (Note discrepancy). + +"Aftah the wah, ah came to Cincinnati, and ah was married three times. +Mah fust wife was Nannie. Then there was Mollie. They both died, and +than ah was married Cora heah, and ah had six child'en, one girl and fo' +boys. (Note discrepancy) They's two living yet; James is 70 and he is +not married. And Bob's about thutty or fo'ty. Ah done lost al mah +rememb'ance, too ole now. But Mollie died when he was bo'n, and he is +crazy. He is out of Longview (Home for Mentally Infirm) now fo' a while, +and he jes' wanders around, and wo'ks a little. He's not [TR: "not" is +crossed out] ha'mless, he wouldn't hurt nobody. He ain't married +neithah. + +"After the wah, ah bought a fiddle, and ah was a good fiddlah. Used to +be a fiddlah fo' the white girls to dance. Jes' picked it up, it was a +natural gif'. Ah could still play if ah had a fiddle. Ah used to play at +our hoe downs, too. Played all those ole time songs--_Soldier's Joy_, +_Jimmy Long Josey_, _Arkansas Traveler_, and _Black Eye Susie_. Ah +remembah the wo'ds to that one." + +Smiling inwardly with pleasure as he again lived the past, the old Negro +swayed and recited: + + Black Eye Susie, you look so fine, + Black Eye Susie, ah think youah mine. + A wondahful time we're having now, + Oh, Black Eye Susie, ah believe that youah mine. + + And away down we stomp aroun' the bush, + We'd think that we'd get back to wheah we could push + Black Eye Susie, ah think youah fine, + Black Eye Susie, Ah know youah mine. + +Then, he resumed his conversational tone: + +"Befo' the wah we nevah had no good times. They took good care of us, +though. As pa'taculah with slaves as with the stock--that was their +money, you know. And if we claimed a bein' sick, they'd give us a dose +of castah oil and tu'pentine. That was the principal medicine cullud +folks had to take, and sometimes salts. But nevah no whiskey--that was +not allowed. And if we was real sick, they had the Doctah fo' us. + +"We had very bad eatin'. Bread, meat, water. And they fed it to us in a +trough, jes' like the hogs. And ah went in may shirt tail till I was 16, +nevah had no clothes. And the flo' in ouah cabin was dirt, and at night +we'd jes' take a blanket and lay down on the flo'. The dog was supe'ior +to us; they would take him in the house. + +"Some of the people I belonged to was in the Klu Klux Klan. Tolah had +fo' girls and fo' boys. Some of those boys belonged. And I used to see +them turn out. They went aroun' whippin' niggahs. They'd get young girls +and strip 'em sta'k naked, and put 'em across barrels, and whip 'em till +the blood run out of 'em, and then they would put salt in the raw pahts. +And ah seen it, and it was as bloody aroun' em as if they'd stuck hogs. + +"I sho' is glad I ain't no slave no moah. Ah thank God that ah lived to +pas the yeahs until the day of 1937. Ah'm happy and satisfied now, and +ah hopes ah see a million yeahs to come." + + + + +Forest H. Lees +C.R. McLean, Supervisor +June 10, 1937 + +Topic: Folkways +Medina County, District #5 + +JULIA WILLIAMS, ex-slave + + +Julia Williams, born in Winepark, Chesterfield County near Richmond, +Virginia. Her age is estimated close to 100 years. A little more or a +little less, it is not known for sure. + +Her memory is becoming faded. She could remember her mothers name was +Katharine but her father died when she was very small and she remembers +not his name. + +Julia had three sisters, Charlotte, Rose and Emoline Mack. The last +names of the first two, Charlotte and Rose she could not recall. + +As her memory is becoming faded, her thoughts wander from one thing to +another and her speech is not very plain, the following is what I heard +and understood during the interview. + +"All de slaves work with neighbors; or like neighbors now-adays. I no +work in de fiel, I slave in de house, maid to de mistress." + +"After Yankees come, one sister came to Ohio with me." + +"The slaves get a whippin if they run away." + +"After Yankees come, my ole mother come home and all chillun together. I +live with gramma and go home after work each day. Hired out doin maid +work. All dis after Yankees come dat I live with gramma." + +"Someone yell, 'Yankees are comin',' and de mistress tell me, she say +'You mus learn to be good and hones'.' I tole her, 'I am now'." + +"No I nevah get no money foh work." + +"I allways had good meals and was well taken care of. De Mrs. she nevah +let me be sold." + +"Sho we had a cook in de kichen and she was a slave too." + +"Plantashun slaves had gahdens but not de house slaves. I allus had da +bes clothes and bes meals, anyting I want to eat. De Mrs. like me and +she like me and she say effen you want sompin ask foh it, anytime you +want sompin or haff to have, get it. I didn suffer for enythin befoh dim +Yankees come." + +"After de Yankees come even de house people, de white people didn get +shoes. But I hab some, I save. I have some othah shoes I didn dare go in +de house with. Da had wood soles. Oh Lawde how da hurt mah feet. One day +I come down stair too fas and slip an fall. Right den I tile de Mrs. I +couldn wear dem big heavy shoes and besides da makes mah feet so sore." + +"Bof de Mrs. and de Master sickly. An their chillun died. Da live in a +big manshun house. Sho we had an overseer on de plantashun. De poor +white people da live purty good, all dat I seed. It was a big +plantashun. I can't remember how big but I know dat it was sho big. Da +had lots an lots of slaves but I doan no zackly how many. Da scattered +around de plantashun in diffren settlements. De horn blew every mohnin +to wake up de fiel hans. Da gone to fiel long time foh I get up. De fiel +hans work from dawn till dark, but evabody had good eats on holidays. No +work jus eat and have good time." + +"Da whipp dem slaves what run away." + +"One day after de war was over and I come to Ohio, a man stop at mah +house. I seem him and I know him too but I preten like I didn, so I say, +'I doan want ter buy nothin today' and he says 'Doan you know me?' Den I +laugh an say sho I remember the day you wuz goin to whip me, you run +affer me and I run to de Mrs. and she wouldn let you whip me. Now you +bettah be careful or I get you." + +"Sho I saw slaves sole. Da come from all ovah to buy an sell de slaves, +chillun to ole men and women." + +"De slaves walk and travel with carts and mules." + +"De slaves on aukshun block dey went to highes bidder. One colored +woman, all de men want her. She sold to de master who was de highes +bidder, and den I saw her comin down de road singin 'I done got a home +at las!'. She was half crazy. De maste he sole her and den Mrs. buy her +back. They lef her work around de house. I used to make her work and +make her shine things. She say I make her shine too much, but she haff +crazy, an run away." + +"No dey didn help colored folks read and write. Effn dey saw you wif a +book dey knock it down on de floor. Dey wouldn let dem learn." + +"De aukshun allus held at Richmond. Plantashun owners come from all +states to buy slaves and sell them." + +"We had church an had to be dere every single Sunday. We read de Bible. +De preacher did the readin. I can't read or write. We sho had good +prayer meetins. Show nuf it was a Baptis church. I like any spiritual, +all of dem." + +"Dey batize all de young men and women, colored folks. Dey sing mos any +spirtual, none in paticlar. A bell toll foh a funeral. At de baptizen do +de pracher leads dem into de rivah, way in, den each one he stick dem +clear under. I waz gonna be batize and couldn. Eva time sompin happin an +I couldn. My ole mothah tole me I gotta be but I never did be baptize +when Ise young in de south. De othah people befoh me all batized." + +"A lot of de slaves come north. Dey run away cause dey didn want to be +slaves, like I didn like what you do and I get mad, den you get mad an I +run away." + +"De pattyroller was a man who watched foh de slaves what try to run +away. I see dem sneakin in an out dem bushes. When dey fine im de give +im a good whippin." + +"I nevah seed mush trouble between de whites and blacks when I live +dare. Effen dey didn want you to get married, they wouldn let you. Dey +had to ask de mastah and if he say no he mean it." + +"When de Yankees were a comin through dem fiels, dey sho was awful. Dey +take everythin and destroy what ever they could not take. De othah house +slave bury the valables in de groun so de soldiers couldn fine em." + +"One of the house slaves was allus havin her man comin to see her, so +one day affer he lef, when I was makin fun and laughin at her de +mistress she say, 'Why you picken on her?' I say, dat man comin here all +the time hangin round, why doan he marry her." + +"I was nevah lowed to go out an soshiate with de othah slaves much. I +was in de house all time." + +"I went to prayer meetins every Sunday monin and evenin." + +"Sometimes dey could have a good time in de evenin and sometimes day +couldn." + +"Chrismas was a big time for everyone. In the manshun we allus had roast +pig and a big feed. I could have anythin I want. New Years was the big +aukshun day. All day hollerin on de block. Dey come from all ovah to +Richmond to buy and sell de slaves." + +"Butchern day sho was a big time. A big long table with de pigs laid out +ready to be cut up." + +"Lots of big parties an dances in de manshun. I nevah have time foh +play. Mrs, she keep me busy and I work when I jus little girl and all +mah life." + +"Effen any slaves were sick dey come to de house for splies and medsin. +De Mrs. and Master had de doctor if things were very bad." + +"I'll nevah forget de soldiers comin. An old woman tole me de war done +broke up, and I was settin on de porch. De Mrs. she say, 'Julia you ant +stayin eneymore'. She tole me if I keep my money and save it she would +give me some. An she done gave me a gold breast pin too. She was rich +and had lots of money. After the war I wen home to my mother. She was +half sick and she work too hard. On de way I met one slave woman who +didn know she was even free." + +"The Yankees were bad!" + +"I didn get married right away. I worked out foh diffren famlies." + +"After de war dare was good schools in de south. De free slaves had land +effen dey knowed what to do with. I got married in the south to Richar +Williams but I didn have no big weddin. I had an old preacher what +knowed all bout de Bible, who married me. He was a good preacher. I was +de mothah of eight chillun." + +"Lincoln? Well I tell you I doan know. I didn have no thought about him +but I seed him. I work in de house all de time and didn hear much about +people outside." + +"I doan believe in ghosts or hants. As foh dancin I enjoy it when I was +young." + +"I cant read and I thought to myself I thought there was a change comin. +I sense that. I think de Lawd he does everythin right. De Lawd open my +way. I think all people should be religious and know about de Lawd and +his ways." + +Her husband came to Wadsworth with the first group that came from +Doylestown. The men came first then they sent for their families. Her +husband came first them sent for her and the children. They settled in +Wadsworth and built small shacks then later as times got better they +bought properties. + +This year is the 57th Anniversary of the Wadsworth Colored Baptist +Church of which Julia Williams was a charter member. She is very close +to 100 years old if not that now and lives at 160 Kyle Street, +Wadsworth, Ohio. + + + + +Lees +Ohio Guide, Special +Ex-Slave Stories +August 17, 1937 + +JULIA WILLIAMS +(Supplementary Story) + + +"After de War deh had to pick their own livin' an seek homes. + +"Shuah, deh expected de 40 acres of lan' an mules, but deh had to work +foh dem." + +"Shuah, deh got paht of de lan but de shuah had to work foh it. + +"After de war deh had no place to stay an den deh went to so many +diffrunt places. Some of dem today don't have settled places to live. + +"Those owners who were good gave their slaves lan but de othahs jus +turned de slaves loose to wander roun'. Othahs try to fine out where +dere people were and went to them. + +"One day I seed a man who was a doctor down dere, an' I says, 'You +doktah now?' An says 'No, I doan doktah no mow.' I work foh him once +when I was slave, few days durin de war. I say, 'Member that day you +gonna lick me but you didn', you know I big woman an fight back. Now de +war ovah and you can't do dat now'. + +"Slaves didn get money unless deh work for it. Maybe a slave he would +work long time before he get eny pay." + +"Lak you hire me an you say you goin to pay me an then you don't. Lots +of them hired slaves aftah de war and worked dem a long time sayin deh +gwine pay and then when he ask for money, deh drive him away instead of +payin him. + +"Yes, some of de slaves were force to stay on de plantation. I see how +some had to live." "They had homes for awhile but when deh wasen't able +to pay dere rent cause deh weren't paid, deh were thrown out of dere +houses." Some of dem didn't know when deh were free till long time after +de Wah. + +"When I were free, one mornin I seed the mistress and she ask me would I +stay with her a couple years. I say, 'No I gonna find mah people an go +dere.' + +"Anyway, she had a young mister, a son, an he was mean to de slaves. I +nebber lak him. + +"Once I was sent to mah missys' brother for a time but I wouldn' stay +dere: he too rough. + +"No, deh didn't want you to learn out of books. My missy say one day +when I was free, 'Now you can get your lessons.' + +"I allus lowed to do what I wanted, take what I wanted, and eat what I +wanted. Deh had lots of money but what good did it do them? Deh allus +was sick. + +"De poor soldiers had lots to go thru, even after de wah. Deh starvin +and beggin and sick. + +"De slaves had more meetins and gatherins aftah de war. + +"On de plantation where I work dey had a great big horn blow every +mornin to get de slaves up to de field, I allus get up soon after it +blew, most allways, but this mornin dey blew de horn a long time an I +says, 'what foh dey blow dat horn so long?' an den de mastah say, 'You +all is free'. Den he says, ter me, 'What you all goin to do now', and I +says, 'I'm goin to fine my mother.' + +"One day a soldier stop me an says, 'Sister, where do you live?' I tole +him, den he says, 'I'm hungry.' So I went an got him sompin to eat. + +"One time I was to be sold de next day, but de missy tole the man who +cried the block not to sell me, but deh sold my mother and I didn't see +her after dat till just befoh de war ovah. + +"All dat de slaves got after de war was loaned dem and dey had to work +mighty hard to pay for dem. I saw a lot of poor people cut off from +votin and dey off right now, I guess. I doan like it dat de woman vote. +A woman ain't got no right votin, nowhow. + +"Most of de slaves get pensions and are taken care of by their chillun." + +"Ah doan know about de generation today, just suit yourself bout dat." + +Julia Williams resides at 150 Kyle St., Wadsworth, Ohio. + + + + +Miriam Logan +Lebanon, Ohio +July 8th + +Warren County, District 2 + +Story of REVEREND WILLIAMS, Aged 76, +Colored Methodist Minister, +Born Greenbriar County, West Virginia (Born 1859) + + +"I was born on the estate of Miss Frances Cree, my mother's mistress. +She had set my grandmother Delilah free with her sixteen children, so my +mother was free when I was born, but my father was not. + +"My father was butler to General Davis, nephew of Jefferson Davis. +General Davis was wounded in the Civil War and came home to die. My +father, Allen Williams was not free until the Emancipation." + +"Grandmother Delilah belonged to Dr. Cree. Upon his death and the +division of his estate, his maiden daughter came into possession of my +grandmother, you understand. Miss Frances nor her brother Mr. Cam. ever +married. Miss Frances was very religious, a Methodist, and she believed +Grandmother Delilah should be free, and that we colored children should +have schooling." + +"Yes ma'm, we colored people had a church down there in West Virginia, +and grandmother Delilah had a family Bible of her own. She had fourteen +boys and two girls. My mother had sixteen children, two boys, fourteen +girls. Of them--mother's children, you understand,--there were seven +teachers and two ministers; all were educated--thanks to Miss Frances +and to Miss Sands of Gallipolice. Mother lived to be ninety-seven years +old. No, she was not a cook." + +"In the south, you understand--there is the COLORED M.E. CHURCH, and the +AFRICAN M.E. CHURCH, and the SOUTHERN METHODIST, and METHODIST EPISCOPAL +CHURCHES of the white people. They say there will be UNION METHODIST of +both white and colored people, but I don't believe there will be, for +there is a great difference in beliefs, even today. SOUTHERN METHODIST +do believe, do believe in slavery; while the Methodist to which Miss +Frances Cree belonged did not believe in slavery. The Davis family, (one +of the finest) did believe in slavery and they were good southern +Methodist. Mr. Cam., Miss Frances brother was not so opposed to slavery +as was Miss Frances. Miss Frances willed us to the care of her good +Methodist friend Miss Eliza Sands of Ohio." + +"Culture loosens predijuce. I do not believe in social equality at all +myself; it cannot be; but we all must learn to keep to our own road, and +bear Christian good will towards each other." + +"I do not know of any colored people who are any more superstitious than +are white people. They have the advantages of education now equally and +are about on the same level. Of course illiterate whites and the +illiterate colored man are apt to believe in charms. I do not remember +of hearing of any particular superstitious among my church people that I +could tell you about, no ma'm, I do not." + +"In church music I hold that the good old hymns of John and of Charles +Wesley are the best to be had. I don' like shouting 'Spirituals' +show-off and carrying on--never did encourage it! Inward Grace will come +out in your singing more than anything else you do, and the impression +we carry away from your song and, from the singer are what I count." +Read well, sing correctly, but first, last, remember real inward Grace +is what shows forth the most in a song." + +"In New Oreleans where I went to school,--(graduated in 1887 from the +Freedman's Aid College)--there were 14 or 15 colored churches +(methodist) in my youth. New Oreleans is one third colored in +population, you understand. Some places in the south the colored +outnumber the whites 30 to 1. + +"I pastored St. Paul's church in Louieville, a church of close to 3,000 +members. No'ma'm can't say just how old a church it is." + +"To live a consecrated life, you'd better leave off dancing, drinking +smoking and the movies. I've never been to a movie in my life. When I +hear some of the programs colored folks put on the radio sometimes I +feel just like going out to the woodshed and getting my axe and chopping +up the radio, I do! It's natural and graceful to dance, but it is not +natural or good to mill around in a low-minded smoky dance hall." + +"I don't hold it right to put anybody out of church, no ma'm. No matter +what they do, I don't believe in putting anybody out of church." + +"My mother and her children were sent to Miss Eliza Sands at Gallipolis, +Ohio after Miss Frances Cree's death, at Miss Frances' request. Father +did not go, no ma'm. He came later and finished his days with us." + +"We went first to Point Pleasant, then up the river to Gallipolis." + +"After we got there we went to school. A man got me a place in +Cincinnati when I was twelve years old. I blacked boots and ran errands +of the hotel office until I was thirteen; then I went to the FREEDMAN'S +AID COLLEGE in N' Orleans; remained until I graduated. Shoemaking and +carpentering were given to me for trades, but as young fellow I shipped +on a freighter plying between New Orleans and Liverpool, thinking I +would like to be a seaman. I was a mean tempered boy. As cook's helper +one day, I got mad at the boatswain,--threw a pan of hot grease on him." + +The crew wanted me put into irons, but the captain said 'no,--leave him +in Liverpool soon as we land--in about a day or two. When I landed there +they left me to be deported back to the States according to law." + +"Yes, I had an aunt live to be 112 years old. She died at Granville +(Ohio) some thirty years ago. We know her age from a paper on Dr. Cree's +estate where she was listed as a child of twelve, and that had been one +hundred years before." + +"About the music now,--you see I'm used to thinking of religion as the +working out of life in good deeds, not just a singing-show-off kind." + +Some of the Spirituals are fine, but still I think Wesley hymns are +best. I tell my folks that the good Lord isn't a deaf old gentleman that +has to be shouted up to, or amused. I do think we colored people are a +little too apt to want to show off in our singing sometimes." + +"I was very small when we went away from Greenbriar County to Point +Pleasant, and from there to Gallipolis by wagon. I do remember Mr. Cam. +Cree. I was taring around the front lawn where he didn't want me; he was +cross. I remember somebody taking me around the house, and thats +all,-all that I can remember of the old Virginia home where my folks had +belonged for several generations." + +"I've pastored large churches in Louisville and St. Louis. In Ohio I +have been at Glendale, and at Oxford,--other places. This old place was +for sale on the court house steps one day when I happened to be in +Lebanon. Five acres, yes ma'm. There's the corner stone with 1822--age +of the house. My sight is poor, can't read, so I do not try to preach +much anymore, but I help in church in any way that I am needed, keep +busy and happy always! I am able to garden and enjoy life every day. +Certainly my life has been a fortunate one in my mother's belonging to +Miss Frances Cree. I have been a minister some forty years. I graduated +from Wilberforce College." + +This colored minister has a five acre plot of ground and an old brick +house located at the corporation line of the village of Lebanon. He is a +medium sized man. Talks very fast. A writer could turn in about 40 pages +on an interview with him, but he is very much in earnest about his +beliefs. He seems to be rather nervous and has very poor sight. His wife +is yellow in color, and has a decidedly oriental cast of face. She is as +silent, as he is talkative, and from general appearances of her home +she is a very neat housekeeper. Neither of them speak in dialect at all. +Wade Glenn does not speak in dialect, although he is from North +Carolina. + + + + +Ex-Slaves +Stark County, District 5 +Aug 13, 1937 + +WILLIAM WILLIAMS, Ex-Slave + + +Interview with William Williams, 1227 Rex Ave. S.E. Canton, O. + +"I was born a slave in Caswell County, North Carolina, April 14, 1857. +My mother's name was Sarah Hunt and her master's name was Taz Hunt. I +did not know who my father was until after the war. When I was about 11 +years old I went to work on a farm for Thomas Williams and he told me he +was my father. When I was born he was a slave on the plantation next to +Hunt's place and was owned by John Jefferson. Jefferson sold my father +after I was born but I do not know his last master's name. + +My father and mother were never married. They just had the permission of +the two slave owners to live together and I became the property of my +father's master, John Jefferson until I was sold. After the war my +mother joined my father on his little farm and it was then I first +learned he was my father. + +I was sold when I was 3 years old but I don't remember the name of the +man that bought me. + +After the war my father got 100 acres and a team of mules to farm on +shares, the master furnishing the food for the first year and at the end +of the second year he had the privilege of buying the land at $1.00 per +acre. + +When I was a boy I played with other slave children and sometimes with +the master's children and what little education I have I got from them. +No, I can't read or write but I can figure 'like the devil'. + +The plantation of John Jefferson was one of the biggest in the south, it +had 2200 acres and he owned about 2000 slaves. + +I was too young to remember anything about the slave days although I do +remember that I never saw a pair of shoes until I was old enough to +work. My father was a cobbler and I used to have to whittle out shoe +pegs for him and I had to walk sometimes six miles to get pine knots +which we lit at night so my mother could see to work. + +I did not stay with my father and mother long as I was only about 14 +when I started north. I worked for farmers every place I could find work +and sometimes would work a month or maybe two. The last farmer I worked +for I stayed a year and I got my board and room and five dollars a month +which was paid at the end of every six months. I stayed in Pennsylvania +for some years and came to Canton in 1884. I have always worked at farm +work except now and then in a factory. + +I had two brothers, Dan and Tom, and one sister, Dora, but I never heard +from them or saw them after the war. I have been married twice. My first +wife was Sally Dillis Blaire and we were married in 1889. I got a +divorce a few years later and I don't know whatever became of her. My +second wife is still living. Her name was Kattie Belle Reed and I +married her in 1907. No, I never had any children. + +I don't believe I had a bed when I was a slave as I don't remember any. +At home, after the war, my mother and father's bed was made of wood with +ropes stretched across with a straw tick on top. 'Us kids' slept under +this bed on a 'trundle' bed so that at night my mother could just reach +down and look after any one of us if we were sick or anything. + +I was raised on ash cakes, yams and butter milk. These ash cakes were +small balls made of dough and my mother would rake the ashes out of the +fire place and lay these balls on the hot coals and then cover them over +with the ashes again. When they were done we would take 'em out, clean +off the ashes and eat them. We used to cook chicken by first cleaning +it, but leaving the feathers on, then cover it with clay and lay it in a +hole filled with hot coals. When it was done we would just knock off the +clay and the feathers would come off with it. + +When I was a 'kid' I wore nothing but a 'three cornered rag' and my +mother made all my clothes as I grew older. No, the slaves never knew +what underwear was. + +We didn't have any clocks to go by; we just went to work when it was +light enough and quit when it was too dark to see. When any slaves took +sick they called in a nigger mammy who used roots and herbs, that is, +unless they were bad sick, then the overseer would call a regular +doctor. + +When some slave died no one quit work except relatives and they stopped +just long enough to go to the funeral. The coffins were made on the +plantation, these were just rough pine board boxes, and the bodies were +buried in the grave yard on the plantation. + +The overseer on the Jefferson plantation, so my father told me, would +not allow the slaves to pray and I never saw a bible until after I came +north. This overseer was not a religious man and would whip a slave if +he found him praying. + +The slaves were allowed to sing and dance but were not allowed to play +games, but we did play marbles and cards on the quiet. If we wandered +too far from the plantation we were chased and when they caught us they +put us in the stockade. Some of the slaves escaped and as soon as the +overseer found this out they would turn the blood hounds loose. If they +caught any runaway slaves they would whip them and then sell them, they +would never keep a slave who tried to run away." + + +NOTE: Mr. Williams and his wife are supported by the Old Age Pension. +Interviewed by Chas. McCullough. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of +Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: +The Ohio Narratives, by Work Projects Administration + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13217 *** diff --git a/13217-h/13217-h.htm b/13217-h/13217-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..87a06d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/13217-h/13217-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4305 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + <title>Born in Slavery: Slave Narratives from the Federal Writers' Project, 1936-1938: + Ohio Narratives, Volume XII </title> + <meta name="author" content="Federal Writers' Project"> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13217 ***</div> + +<p>[TR: ***] = Transcriber Note</p> +<p>[HW: ***] = Handwritten Note</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> + +<h1>SLAVE NARRATIVES</h1> +<br> + +<h2><i>A Folk History of Slavery in the United States<br> +From Interviews with Former Slaves</i></h2> +<br> + +<h4>TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY<br> +THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT<br> +1936-1938<br> +ASSEMBLED BY<br> +THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT<br> +WORK PROJECTS ADMINISTRATION<br> +FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA<br> +SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS</h4> +<br> + +<p><i>Illustrated with Photographs</i></p> +<br> + +<p>WASHINGTON 1941</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>VOLUME XII</h2> + +<h2>OHIO NARRATIVES</h2> + +<h3>Prepared by<br> +the Federal Writers' Project of<br> +the Works Progress Administration<br> +for the State of Ohio</h3> +<br><br><br> + + +<h2>INFORMANTS</h2> + +<a href='#AndersonCharlesH'>Anderson, Charles H.</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#BardenMelissa'>Barden, Melissa</a><br> +<a href='#BledsoeSusan'>Bledsoe, Susan</a><br> +<a href='#BostPhoebe'>Bost, Phoebe</a><br> +<a href='#BrownBen'>Brown, Ben</a><br> +<a href='#BurkeSarahWoods'>Burke, Sarah Woods</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#CampbellJames'>Campbell, James</a><br> +<a href='#ClarkFleming'>Clark, Fleming</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#DavidsonHannah'>Davidson, Hannah</a><br> +<a href='#DempseyMaryBelle'>Dempsey, Mary Belle</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#EastNancy'>East, Nancy</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#GlennWade'>Glenn, Wade</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#HallDavidA'>Hall, David A.</a><br> +<a href='#HendersonCelia'>Henderson, Celia</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#JacksonGeorge'>Jackson, George</a><br> +<a href='#JacksonGeorge2'>Jackson, George</a> + [TR: Description]<br> +<a href='#JemisonPerrySid'>Jemison, Rev. Perry Sid</a> [TR: Name also appears as Jamison]<br> +<a href='#JamisonPerrySid'>Jamison, Rev. Perry Sid</a> + [TR: Word Picture]<br> +<br> +<a href='#KingJulia'>King, Julia</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#LesterAngeline'>Lester, Angeline</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#McKimmKisey'>McKimm, Kisey</a><br> +<a href='#McMillanThomas'>McMillan, Thomas</a><br> +<a href='#McMillanThomas2'>McMillan, Thomas</a> + [TR: Word Picture]<br> +<a href='#MannSarah'>Mann, Sarah</a><br> +<a href='#MatheusJohnWilliams'>Matheus, John William</a><br> +<a href='#MatheusJohnWilliam2'>Matheus, John William</a> + [TR: Word Picture]<br> +<br> +<a href='#NelsonWilliam'>Nelson, William</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#SlimCatherine'>Slim, Catherine</a><br> +<a href='#SmallJennie'>Small, Jennie</a><br> +<a href='#SmithAnna'>Smith, Anna</a><br> +<a href='#StewartNan'>Stewart, Nan</a><br> +<a href='#SuttonSamuel'>Sutton, Samuel</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#TolerRichard'>Toler, Richard</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#WilliamsJulia'>Williams, Julia</a><br> +<a href='#WilliamsJulia2'>Williams, Julia</a> + [TR: Supplemental Story]<br> +<a href='#WilliamsReverend'>Williams, Rev.</a><br> +<a href='#WilliamsWilliam'>Williams, William</a><br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<a href="#img_CA">Charles H. Anderson</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#img_MB">Melissa Barden</a><br> +<a href="#img_PB">Phoebe Bost</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#img_JC">James Campbell</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#img_AL">Angeline Lester</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#img_RT">Richard Toler</a><br> +<br><br> + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AndersonCharlesH"></a> +<h3>Ruth Thompson, Interviewing<br> +Graff, Editing<br> +<br> +Ex-Slave Interview<br> +Cincinnati<br> +<br> +CHARLES H. ANDERSON<br> +3122 Fredonia St.,<br> +Cincinnati, Ohio</h3> +<br> + +<a name="img_CA"></a> + +<center><p> +<img src='images/canderson.jpg' width='250' height='315' alt='Charles H. Anderson'> +</p></center> + +<br> +<p>"Life experience excels all reading. Every place you go, you learn +something from every class of people. Books are just for a memory, to +keep history and the like, but I don't have to go huntin' in libraries, +I got one in my own head, for you can't forget what you learn from +experience."</p> + +<p>The old man speaking is a living example of his theory, and, judging +from his bearing, his experience has given him a philosophical outlook +which comprehends love, gentleness and wisdom. Charles H. Anderson, 3122 +Fredonia Street, was born December 23, 1845, in Richmond, Virginia, as a +slave belonging to J.L. Woodson, grocer, "an exceedingly good owner—not +cruel to anyone".</p> + +<p>With his mother, father, and 15 brothers and sisters, he lived at the +Woodson home in the city, some of the time in a cabin in the rear, but +mostly in the "big house". Favored of all the slaves, he was trusted to +go to the cash drawer for spending money, and permitted to help himself +to candy and all he wanted to eat. With the help of the mistress, his +mother made all his clothes, and he was "about as well dressed as +anybody".</p> + +<p>"I always associated with high-class folks, but I never went to church +then, or to school a day in my life. My owner never sent me or my +brothers, and then when free schools came in, education wasn't on my +mind. I just didn't think about education. Now, I read a few words, and +I can write my name. But experience is what counts most."</p> + +<p>Tapping the porch floor with his cane for emphasis, the old fellow's +softly slurred words fell rapidly but clearly. Sometimes his tongue got +twisted, and he had to repeat. Often he had to switch his pipe from one +side of his mouth to the other; for, as he explained, "there ain't many +tooth-es left in there". Mr. Anderson is rather slight of build, and his +features are fine, his bald head shiny, and his eyes bright and eager. +Though he says he "ain't much good anymore", he seems half a century old +instead of "92 next December, if I can make it".</p> + +<p>"I have been having some sick spells lately, snapped three or four ribs +out of place several years ago, and was in bed for six weeks after my +wife died ten year ago. But my step-daughter here nursed me through it. +Doctor says he doesn't see how I keep on living. But they take good care +of me, my sons and step-daughter. They live here with me, and we're +comfortable."</p> + +<p>And comfortable, neat, and clean they are in the trimmest little frame +house on the street, painted grey with green trim, having a square of +green lawn in front and another in back enclosed with a rail fence, gay +flowers in the corners, rubber plants in pots on the porch, and grape +arbor down one side of the back yard. Inside, rust-colored mohair +overstuffed chairs and davenport look prim with white, crocheted +doilies, a big clock with weights stands in one corner on an ornately +carved table, and several enlarged framed photographs hang on the wall. +The other two rooms are the combined kitchen and dining room, and a +bedroom with a heatrola in it "to warm an old man's bones". Additional +bedrooms are upstairs.</p> + +<p>Pointing to one of the pictures, he remarked, "That was me at 37. Had it +taken for my boss where I worked. It was a post card, and then I had it +enlarged for myself. That was just before I married Helen".</p> + +<p>Helen Comer, nee Cruitt, was a widow with four youngsters when he met +her 54 years ago. One year later they were married and had two boys, +Charles, now 47, employed as an auto repair man, and Samuel, 43, a +sorter in the Post Office, both bachelors.</p> + +<p>"Yes sir, I sure was healthy-looking them days. Always was strong, never +took a dollars worth of medicine in fifty year or more till I had these +last sick spells. But we had good living in slave days. In one sense we +were better off then than after the war, 'cause we had plenty to eat. +Nowadays, everybody has to fen' for himself, and they'd kill a man for a +dime.</p> + +<p>"Whip the slaves? Oh, my God! Don't mention it, don't mention it! Lots +of 'em in Old Dominion got beatings for punishment. They didn't have no +jail for slaves, but the owners used a whip and lash on 'em. I've seen +'am on a chain gang, too, up at the penitentiary. But I never got a +whipping in my life. Used to help around the grocery, and deliver +groceries. Used to go up to Jeff Davis' house every day. He was a fine +man. Always was good to me. But then I never quarreled with anybody, +always minded my own business. And I never was scared of nothing. Most +folks was superstitious, but I never believed in ghosts nor anything I +didn't see. Never wore a charm. Never took much stock in that kind of +business. The old people used to carry potatoes to keep off rheumatism. +Yes, sir. They had to steal an Irish potato, and carry it till it was +hard as a rock; then they'd say they never get rheumatism.</p> + +<p>"Saturday was our busy day at the store; but after work, I used to go to +the drag downs. Some people say 'hoe down' or 'dig down', I guess 'cause +they'd dig right into it, and give it all they got. I was a great hand +at fiddlin'. Got one in there now that is 107-year old, but I haven't +played for years. Since I broke my shoulder bone, I can't handle the +bow. But I used to play at all the drag downs. Anything I heard played +once, I could play. Used to play two steps, one of 'em called 'Devil's +Dream', and three or four good German waltzes, and 'Turkey in the +Straw'—but we didn't call it that then. It was the same piece, but I +forget what we called it. They don't play the same nowadays. Playin' now +is just a time-consumer, that's all; they got it all tore to pieces, no +top or bottom to it.</p> + +<p>"We used to play games, too. Ring games at play parties—'Ring Around +the Rosie', 'Chase the Squirrel', and 'Holly Golly'. Never hear of Holly +Golly? Well, they'd pass around the peanuts, and whoever'd get three +nuts in one shell had to give that one to the one who had started the +game. Then they'd pass 'em around again. Just a peanut-eating contest, +sorta.</p> + +<p>"Abraham Lincoln? Well, they's people born in this world for every +occupation and Lincoln was a natural born man for the job he completed. +Just check it back to Pharoah' time: There was Moses born to deliver the +children of Israel. And John Brown, he was born for a purpose. But they +said he was cruel all the way th'ough, and they hung him in February, +1859. That created a great sensation. And he said, 'Go ahead. Do your +work. I done mine'. Then they whipped around till they got the war +started. And that was the start of the Civil War.</p> + +<p>"I enlisted April 10, 1865, and was sent to San Diego, Texas; but I +never was in a battle. And they was only one time when I felt anyways +skittish. That was when I was a new recruit on picket duty. And it was +pitch dark, and I heard something comin' th'ough the bushes, and I +thought, 'Let 'em come, whoever it is'. And I got my bayonet all ready, +and waited. I'se gittin' sorta nervous, and purty soon the bushes +opened, and what you think come out? A great big ole hog!</p> + +<p>"In June '65, I got a cold one night, and contracted this throat trouble +I get—never did get rid of it. Still carry it from the war. Got my +first pension on that—$6 a month. Ain't many of us left to get pensions +now. They's only 11 veterans left in Cincinnati.</p> + +<p>"They used to be the Ku Klux Klan organization. That was the +pat-rollers, then they called them the Night Riders, and at one time the +Regulators. The 'Ole Dragon', his name was Simons, he had control of it, +and that continued on for 50 year till after the war when Garfield was +president. Then it sprung up again, now the King Bee is in prison.</p> + +<p>"Well, after the war I was free. But it didn't make much difference to +me; I just had to work for myself instead of somebody else. And I just +rambled around. Sort of a floater. But I always worked, and I always eat +regular, and had regular rest. Work never hurt nobody. I lived so many +places, Cleveland, and ever'place, but I made it here longer than +anyplace—53 year. I worked on the railroad, bossin'. Always had men +under me. When the Chesapeake and Ohio put th'ough that extension to +White Sulphur, we cut tracks th'ough a tunnel 7 mile long. And I handled +men in '83 when they put the C & O th'ough here. But since I was 71, I +been doin' handy work—just general handy man. Used to do a lot of +carving, too, till I broke my shoulder bone. Carved that ol' pipe of +mine 25 year ago out of an ol' umbrella handle, and carved this monkey +watch charm. But the last three year I ain't done much of anything.</p> + +<p>"Go to church sometimes, over here to the Corinthian Baptis' Church of +Walnut Hills. But church don't do much good nowadays. They got too much +education for church. This new-fangled education is just a bunch of +ignoramacy. Everybody's just looking for a string to pull to get +something—not to help others. About one-third goes to see what everbody +else is wearing, and who's got the nicest clothes. And they sit back, +and they say, 'What she think she look like with that thing on her +haid?'. The other two-thirds? Why, they just go for nonsense, I guess. +Those who go for religion are scarce as chicken teeth. Yes sir, they go +more for sight-seein' than soul-savin'.</p> + +<p>"They's so much gingerbread work goin' on now. Our most prominent people +come from the eastern part of the United States. All wise people come +from the East, just as the wise men did when the Star of Bethlehem +appeared when Christ was born. And the farther east you go, the more +common knowledge a person's got. That ain't no Dream Boat. Nowadays, +people are gettin' crazier everyday. We got too much liberty; it's all +'little you, and big me'. Everybody's got a right to his own opinion, +and the old fashioned way was good enough for my father, and it's good +enough for me.</p> + +<p>"If your back trail is clean, you don't need to worry about the future. +Your future life is your past conduct. It's a trailer behind you. And I +ain't quite dead yet, efn I do smell bad!"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BardenMelissa"></a> +<h3>Story and Photo by Frank M. Smith<br> +<br> +Ex-Slaves<br> +Mahoning County, District #5<br> +Youngstown, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. MELISSA (LOWE) BARDEN, Youngstown, Ohio.</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_MB"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/mbarden.jpg' width='250' height='380' alt='Melissa Barden' > +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Melissa (Lowe) Barden of 1671 Jacobs Road, was "bred and born" on +the plantation of David Lowe, near Summersville, Georgia, Chattooga +County, and when asked how old she was said "I's way up yonder +somewheres maybe 80 or 90 years."</p> + +<p>Melissa assumed her master's name Lowe, and says he was very good to her +and that she loved him. Only once did she feel ill towards him and that +was when he sold her mother. She and her sister were left alone. Later +he gave her sister and several other slaves to his newly married +daughter as a wedding present. This sister was sold and re-sold and when +the slaves were given their freedom her mother came to claim her +children, but Melissa was the only one of the four she could find. Her +mother took her to a plantation in Newton County, where they worked +until coming north. The mother died here and Melissa married a man named +Barden.</p> + +<p>Melissa says she was very happy on the plantation where they danced and +sang folk songs of the South, such as <u>"Sho' Fly Go 'Way From Me"</u>, +and others after their days work was done.</p> + +<p>When asked if she objected to having her picture taken she said, "all +right, but don't you-all poke fun at me because I am just as God made +me."</p> + +<p>Melissa lives with her daughter, Nany Hardie, in a neat bungalow on the +Sharon Line, a Negro district. Melissa's health is good with the +exception of cataracts over her eyes which have caused her to be totally +blind.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BledsoeSusan"></a> +<h3>Ohio Guide<br> +Ex-Slave Stories<br> +Aug 15, 1937<br> +<br> +SUSAN BLEDSOE<br> +462-12th St. S.E., Canton, Ohio</h3> +<br> +<p>"I was born on a plantation in Gilee County, near the town of Elkton, in +Tennessee, on August 15, 1845. My father's name was Shedrick Daley and +he was owned by Tom Daley and my mother's name was Rhedia Jenkins and +her master's name was Silas Jenkins. I was owned by my mother's master +but some of my brothers and sisters—I had six brothers and six +sisters—were owned by Tom Daley.</p> + +<p>I always worked in the fields with the men except when I was called to +the house to do work there. 'Masse' Jenkins was good and kind to all us +slaves and we had good times in the evening after work. We got in groups +in front of the cabins and sang and danced to the music of banjoes until +the overseer would come along and make us go to bed. No, I don't +remember what the songs were, nothing in particular, I guess, just some +we made up and we would sing a line or two over and over again.</p> + +<p>We were not allowed to work on Sunday but we could go to church if we +wanted to. There wasn't any colored church but we could go to the white +folks church if we went with our overseer. His name was Charlie Bull and +he was good to all of us.</p> + +<p>Yes, they had to whip a slave sometimes, but only the bad ones, and they +deserved it. No, there wasn't any jail on the plantation.</p> + +<p>We all had to get up at sunup and work till sundown and we always had +good food and plenty of it; you see they had to feed us well so we would +be strong. I got better food when I was a slave than I have ever had +since.</p> + +<p>Our beds were home made, they made them out of poplar wood and gave us +straw ticks to sleep on. I got two calico dresses a year and these were +my Sunday dresses and I was only allowed to wear them on week days after +they were almost worn out. Our shoes were made right on the plantation.</p> + +<p>When any slaves got sick, Mr. Bull, the overseer, got a regular doctor +and when a slave died we kept right on working until it was time for the +funeral, then we were called in but had to go right back to work as soon +as it was over. Coffins were made by the slaves out of poplar lumber.</p> + +<p>We didn't play many games, the only ones I can remember are 'ball' and +'marbles'. No, they would not let us play 'cards'.</p> + +<p>One day I was sent out to clean the hen house and to burn the straw. I +cleaned the hen house, pushed the straw up on a pile and set fire to it +and burned the hen house down and I sure thought I was going to get +whipped, but I didn't, for I had a good 'masse'.</p> + +<p>We always got along fine with the children of the slave owners but none +of the colored people would have anything to do with the 'poor white +trash' who were too poor to own slaves and had to do their own work.</p> + +<p>There was never any uprisings on our plantations and I never heard about +any around where I lived. We were all happy and contented and had good +times.</p> + +<p>Yes, I can remember when we were set free. Mr. Bull told us and we cut +long poles and fastened balls of cotton on the ends and set fire to +them. Then, we run around with them burning, a-singin' and a-dancin'. +No, we did not try to run away and never left the plantation until Mr. +Bull said we could go.</p> + +<p>After the war, I worked for Mr. Bull for about a year on the old +plantation and was treated like one of the family. After that I worked +for my brother on a little farm near the old home place. He was buying +his farm from his master, Mr. Tom Daley.</p> + +<p>I was married on my brother's place to Wade Bledsoe in 1870. He has been +dead now about 15 years. His master had given him a small farm but I do +not remember his master's name. Yes, I lived in Tennessee until after my +husband died. I came to Canton in 1929 to live with my granddaughter, +Mrs. Algie Clark.</p> + +<p>I had three children; they are all dead but I have 6 grandchildren, 8 +great-grandchildren and 9 great-great-grandchildren, all living. No, I +don't think the children today are as good as they used to be, they are +just not raised like we were and do too much as they please.</p> + +<p>I can't read or write as none of we slaves ever went to school but I +used to listen to the white folks talk and copied after them as much as +I could."</p> +<br> + +<p><b>NOTE:</b> The above is almost exactly as Mrs. Bledsoe talked to our +interviewer. Although she is a woman of no schooling she talks well and +uses the common negro dialect very little. She is 92 years of age but +her mind is clear and she is very entertaining. She receives an Old Age +Pension. (Interviewed by Chas. McCullough.)</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BostPhoebe"></a> +<h3>Story and Photo by Frank Smith<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-slaves<br> +Mahoning County, District #5<br> +Youngstown, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. PHOEBE BOST, of Youngstown, Ohio.</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_PB"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/pbost.jpg' width='230' height='392' alt='Phoebe Bost'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Phoebe Bost, was born on a plantation in Louisiana, near New +Orleans. She does not know her exact age but says she was told, when +given her freedom that she was about 15 years of age. Phoebe's first +master was a man named Simons, who took her to a slave auction in +Baltimore, where she was sold to Vaul Mooney (this name is spelled as +pronounced, the correct spelling not known.) When Phoebe was given her +freedom she assummed the name of Mooney, and went to Stanley County, +North Carolina, where she worked for wages until she came north and +married to Peter Bost. Phoebe claims both her masters were very mean and +would administer a whipping at the slightest provocation.</p> + +<p>Phoebe's duties were that of a nurse maid. "I had to hol' the baby all +de time she slept" she said "and sometimes I got so sleepy myself I had +to prop ma' eyes open with pieces of whisks from a broom."</p> + +<p>She claims there was not any recreation, such as singing and dancing +permitted at this plantation.</p> + +<p>Phoebe, who is now widowed, lives with her daughter, in part of a double +house, at 3461 Wilson Avenue, Campbell, Ohio. Their home is fairly well +furnished and clean in appearance. Phoebe is of slender stature, and is +quite active in spite of the fact that she is nearing her nineties.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BrownBen"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +By Albert I Dugan [TR: also reported as Dugen]<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-slaves<br> +Muskingum County, District #2<br> +<br> +BEN BROWN<br> +Ex-slave, 100 years<br> +Keen St., Zanesville, Ohio</h3> +<br> + +<p>Yes suh I wuz a slave in Vaginyah, Alvamaul (Albermarle) county an' I +didn't have any good life, I'm tellin' you dat! It wuz a tough life. I +don't know how old I am, dey never told me down dere, but the folks here +say I'm a hunderd yeah old an' I spect dats about right. My fathah's +name wuz Jack Brown and' my mammy's Nellie Brown. Dey wuz six of us +chillun, one sistah Hannah an' three brothers, Jim, Harrison, an' Spot. +Jim wuz de oldes an' I wuz next. We wuz born on a very lauge plantation +an dey wuz lots an' lots of other slaves, I don't know how many. De log +cabins what we live in[HW:?] on both sides de path make it look like a +town. Mastah's house wuz a big, big one an' had big brick chimneys on de +outside. It wuz a frame house, brown, an' set way back from de road, an' +behind dat wuz de slaves' quarters. De mastah, he wuz Fleming Moon an' +dey say he wuz cap'n in de wah of 1812. De missy wuz Parley Moon and dey +had one son an fouh daughters.</p> + +<p>All us chillun an mammy live in a log cabin dat wuz lauge enuf foh us an +we sleep in good beds, tall ones an' low ones dat went undaneath, +trundles dey call 'em, and de covahs wuz comfohtable. De mammies did de +cookin. We et cohn bread, beans, soup, cabbage an' some othah vegtubles, +an a little meat an fish, not much. Cohn cake wuz baked in de ashes, +ash-cake we call 'em an' dey wuz good and sweet. Sometimes we got wheat +bread, we call dat "seldom bread" an' cohn bread wuz called "common" +becos we had it ev'ry day. A boss mammy, she looked aftah de eatins' and +believe me nobuddy got too much.</p> + +<p>De meat house wuz full of smoked po'k, but we only got a little piece +now an' den. At hog killin' time we built a big fiah an put on stones +an' when dey git hot we throw 'em in a hogshead dat has watah in it. Den +moah hot stones till de watah is jus right for takin' de hair off de +hogs, lots of 'em. Salt herrin' fish in barls cum to our place an we put +em in watah to soak an den string em on pointed sticks an' hang up to +dry so dey wont be so salty. A little wuz given us with de other food.</p> + +<p>I worked about de place doin' chores an takin' care of de younger +chillun, when mammy wuz out in de fields at harvest time, an' I worked +in de fields too sometimes. De mastah sent me sometimes with young +recruits goin' to de army headquartahs at Charlottesville to take care +of de horses an show de way. We all worked hard an' when supper wuz ovah +I wuz too tired to do anything but go to bed. It wuz jus work, eat an +sleep foh most of us, dere wuz no time foh play. Some of em tried to +sing or tell stories or pray but dey soon went to bed. Sometimes I heard +some of de stories about hants and speerits an devils that skeered me so +I ran to bed an' covered mah head.</p> + +<p>Mastah died an' den missie, she and a son-in-law took charge of de +place. Mah sistah Hannah wuz sold on de auction block at Richmon to +Mastah Frank Maxie (Massie?) an' taken to de plantation near +Charlottesville. I missed mah sistah terrible an ran away to see her, +ran away three times, but ev'ry time dey cum on horseback an git me jus +befoh I got to Maxies. The missie wuz with dem on a horse and she ax +where I goin an' I told her. Mah hands wuz tied crossways in front with +a big rope so hard it hurt. Den I wuz left on de groun foh a long time +while missie visited Missie Maxie. Dey start home on horses pulling de +rope tied to mah hands. I had to run or fall down an' be dragged on de +groun'. It wuz terrible. When we got home de missie whipped me with a +thick hickory switch an' she wasn't a bit lenient. I wuz whipped ev'ry +time I ran away to see mah sister.</p> + +<p>When dere wuz talk of Yankies cumin' de missie told me to git a box an +she filled it with gold an' silver, lots of it, she wuz rich, an I dug a +hole near de hen house an put in de box an' covered it with dirt an' +smoothed it down an scattered some leaves an twigs ovah it. She told me +nevah, nevah to tell about it and I nevah did until now. She showed me a +big white card with writin' on it an' said it say "This is a Union +Plantation" an' put it on a tree so the Yankies wouldn't try to find de +gold and silvers. But I never saw any Yankie squads cum around. When de +wah wuz ovah, de missie nevah tell me dat I wuz free an' I kep' on +workin' same as befoh. I couldn't read or write an' to me all money +coins wuz a cent, big copper cents, dey wuz all alike to me. De slaves +wuz not allowed any learnin an' if any books, papers or pictures wuz +foun' among us we wuz whipped if we couldn't explain where dey cum from. +Mah sistah an' brother cum foh me an tell me I am free and take me with +them to Mastah Maxies' place where dey workin. Dey had a big dinnah +ready foh me, but I wuz too excited to eat. I worked foh Mastah Maxie +too, helpin' with de horses an' doin' chores. Mammy cum' an wuz de cook. +I got some clothes and a few cents an' travelers give me small coins foh +tending dere horses an' I done done odd jobs here an dere.</p> + +<p>I wanted some learnin but dere wuz no way to git it until a white man +cleared a place in de woods an' put up branches to make shade. He read +books to us foh a while an' den gave it up. A lovly white woman, Missy +Holstottle, her husband's name wuz Dave, read a book to me an' I +remember de stories to dis day. It wuz called "White an' Black." Some of +de stories made me cry.</p> + +<p>After wanderin about doin work where I could git it I got a job on de C +an O Railroad workin' on de tracks. In Middleport, dat's near Pomeroy, +Ohio, I wuz married to Gertie Nutter, a widow with two chillun, an dere +wuz no moah chilluns. After mah wife died I wandered about workin' on +railroads an' in coal mines an' I wuz hurt in a mine near Zanesville. +Felt like mah spine wuz pulled out an I couldn't work any moah an' I cum +to mah neice's home here in Zanesville. I got some compensation at +first, but not now. I get some old age pension, a little, not much, but +I'm thankful foh dat.</p> + +<p>Mah life wuz hard an' sad, but now I'm comfortable here with kind +friens. I can't read or write, but I surely enjoy de radio. Some nights +I dream about de old slave times an' I hear dem cryin' an' prayin', "Oh, +Mastah, pray Oh, mastah, mercy!" when dey are bein' whipped, an' I wake +up cryin.' I set here in dis room and can remember mos' all of de old +life, can see it as plain as day, de hard work, de plantation, de +whippings, an' de misery. I'm sure glad it's all over.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BurkeSarahWoods"></a> +<h3>James Immel, Reporter<br> +<br> +Folklore<br> +Washington County, District Three<br> +<br> +SARAH WOODS BURKE<br> +Aged 85</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Yessir, I guess you all would call me an ex-slave cause I was born in +Grayson County, West Virginia and on a plantation I lived for quite a +spell, that is until when I was seven years old when we all moved up +here to Washington county."</p> + +<p>"My Pappy's old Mammy was supposed to have been sold into slavery when +my Pappy was one month old and some poor white people took him ter +raise. We worked for them until he was a growed up man, also 'til they +give him his free papers and 'lowed him to leave the plantation and come +up here to the North."</p> + +<p>"How did we live on the plantation? Well—you see it was like this we +lived in a log cabin with the ground for floors and the beds were built +against the walls jus' like bunks. I 'member that the slaves had a hard +time getting food, most times they got just what was left over or +whatever the slaveholder wanted to give them so at night they would slip +outa their cabins on to the plantation and kill a pig, a sheep or some +cattle which they would butcher in the woods and cut up. The wimmin +folks would carry the pieces back to the cabins in their aprons while +the men would stay behind and bury the head, skin and feet."</p> + +<p>"Whenever they killed a pig they would have to skin it, because they +didn't dare to build a fire. The women folk after getting home would put +the meat in special dug trenches and the men would come erlong and cover +it up."</p> + +<p>"The slave holders in the port of the country I came from was men and it +was quite offen that slaves were tied to a whipping stake and whipped +with a blacksnake until the blood ran down their bodies."</p> + +<p>"I remembers quite clearly one scene that happened jus' afore I left +that there part of the country. At the slaveholders home on the +plantation I was at it was customary for the white folks to go to church +on Sunday morning and to leave the cook in charge. This cook had a habit +of making cookies and handing them out to the slaves before the folks +returned. Now it happened that on one Sunday for some reason or tother +the white folks returned before the regular time and the poor cook did +not have time to get the cookies to the slaves so she just hid then in a +drawer that was in a sewing chair."</p> + +<p>"The white folks had a parrot that always sat on top of a door in this +room and when the mistress came in the room the mean old bird hollered +out at the top of his voice, 'Its in the rocker. It's in the rocker'. +Well the Missus found the cookies and told her husband where upon the +husband called his man that done the whipping and they tied the poor +cook to the stake and whipped her till she fainted. Next morning the +parrot was found dead and a slave was accused because he liked the woman +that had been whipped the day before. They whipped him than until the +blood ran down his legs."</p> + +<p>"Spirits? Yessir I believe in them, but we warnt bothered so much by +them in them days but we was by the wild animals. Why after it got dark +we children would have to stay indoors for fear of them. The men folks +would build a big fire and I can remember my Pappy a settin on top of +the house at night with a old flint lock across his legs awaiting for +one of them critters to come close enough so he could shoot it. The +reason for him being trusted with a gun was because he had been raised +by the poor white man who worked for the slaveholder. My Pappy did not +work in the fields but drove a team of horses."</p> + +<p>"I remembers that when we left the plantation and come to Washington +County, Ohio that we traveled in a covered wagon that had big white +horse hitched to it. The man that owned the horse was Blake Randolls. He +crossed the river 12 miles below Parkersberg. W. Va. on a ferry and went +to Stafford, Ohio, in Monroe County where we lived until I was married +at the age of 15 to Mr. Burke, by the Justice of the Peace, Edward +Oakley. A year later we moved to Curtis Ridge which is seven miles from +Stafford and we lived their for say 20 year or more. We moved to Rainbow +for a spell and then in 1918 my husband died. The old man hard luck came +around cause three years my home burned to the ground and then I came +here to live with my boy Joe and his family."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Burke and myself raised a family of 16 chilluns and at that time my +husband worked at farming for other people at $2.00 a month and a few +things they would give him."</p> + +<p>"My Pappy got his education from the boy of the white man he lived with +because he wasn't allowed to go to school and the white boy was very +smart and taught him just as he learned. My Pappy, fought in the Civil +War too. On which side? Well, sho nuff on the site of the North, boy."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CampbellJames"></a> +<h3>Hallie Miller, Reporter<br> +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor<br> +<br> +Folklore: Ex-slaves<br> +Gellia County, District 3<br> +<br> +JAMES CAMPBELL<br> +Age 86</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_JC"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/jcampbell.jpg' width='255' height='365' alt='James Campbell'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>"Well, I'se bo'n Monro' County, West Virginia, on January 15, 1852, jes' +few miles from Union, West Virginia."</p> + +<p>"My mammy wuz Dinnah Alexander Campbell an' my pappy wuz Levi Campbell +an' dey bof cum frum Monro' County. Dat's 'bout only place I heerd dem +speak 'bout."</p> + +<p>"Der wuz Levi, Floyd, Henry, Noah, an' Nancy, jes' my haf brudders an' +sistahs, but I neber knowed no diffrunce but whut dey wuz my sistahs an' +brudders."</p> + +<p>"Where we liv? On Marsa John Alexander's farm, he wuz a good Marsa too. +All Marsa John want wuz plenty wurk dun and we dun it too, so der wuz no +trubble on ouah plantashun. I neber reclec' anyone gittin' whipped or +bad treatment frum him. I does 'members, dat sum de neighbers say dey +wuz treated prutty mean, but I don't 'member much 'bout it 'caise I'se +leetle den."</p> + +<p>"Wher'd I sleep? I neber fergit dat trun'l bed, dat I sleep in.</p> + +<p>"Marsa John's place kinda stock farm an' I dun de milkin'. You all know +dat wuz easy like so I jes' keep busy milkin' an' gits out de hard work. +Nudder thing I lik to do wuz pick berries, dat wuz easy too, so I dun my +shar' pickin'."</p> + +<p>"Money? Lawsy chile, I neber dun seen eny money 'til aftah I dun cum to +Gallipolis aftah der war. An' how I lik' to heah it jingle, if I jes' +had two cents, I'd make it jingle."</p> + +<p>"We all had plenty an' good things to eat, beans, corn, tatahs, melons +an' hot mush, corn bread; we jes' seen white flour wunce in a while."</p> + +<p>"Yes mam, we had rabbit, wil' turkey, pheasunts, an' fish, say I'se +tellin' you-all dat riful pappy had shure cud kill de game."</p> + +<p>"Nudder good ole time wuz maple sugar makin' time, mostly dun at night +by limestone burnin'. Yes, I heped with the 'lasses an' all de time I +wuz a thinkin' 'bout dem hot biscets, ham meat, corn bread an' 'lasses."</p> + +<p>"We liv in a cabin on Marse John's place. Der wuzn't much in de cabin +but my mammy kept it mighty clean. Say, I kin see dat ole' fiah place +wid de big logs a burnin' right now; uh, an' smell dat good cookin', all +dun in iron pots an' skillets. An' all de cookin' an' heatin' wuz dun by +wood, why I nebber seed a lump o' coal all time I wuz der. We all had to +cut so much wood an' pile it up two weeks 'for Christmas, an' den when +ouah pile wuz cut, den ouah wurk wuz dun, so we'd jes' hav good time."</p> + +<p>"We all woah jeans clos', jes pants an' jacket. In de summah we chilluns +all went barefoot, but in de wintah we all woah shoes."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Marse John an' his family liv in a big fine brick hous'. Marse John +had des chilluns, Miss Betty an' Miss Ann an' der wuz Marse Mike an' +Marse John. Marse John, he wuz sorta spiled lik. He dun wen to de war +an' runs 'way frum Harpers Ferry an' cum home jes' sceered to death. He +get himsef a pah o' crutches an' neber goes back. Marse John dun used +dem crutches 'til aftah de war wuz ovah. Den der wuz ol' Missy +Kimberton—de gran'muthah. She wuz 'culiar but prutty good, so wuz +Marse's chilluns."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Marse John had bout 20 slaves so de wurk wuzn't so bad on nun ob +us. I kin jes' see dem ol' bindahs and harrows now, dat dey used den. It +would shure look funny usin' 'em now."</p> + +<p>"I all'us got up foah clock in de mornin' to git in de cows an' I didn't +hurry nun, 'caise dat tak in de time."</p> + +<p>"Ouah mammy neber 'lowed de old folks to tell us chilluns sceery stories +o' hants an' sich lik' so der's nun foah me to 'member."</p> + +<p>"Travelin' wuz rather slo' lik. De only way wuz in ox-carts or on hoss +back. We all didn't hay much time fer travelin'. Our Marse wuz too good +to think 'bout runnin' 'way."</p> + +<p>"Nun my fam'ly cud read er write. I lurned to read an write aftah I cum +up Norf to Ohio. Dat wuz biggest thing I ebber tackled, but it made me +de happies' aftah I learn't."</p> + +<p>"We all went to Sunday School an' meetin'. Yes mam, we had to wurk on +Sundays, too, if we did hav any spare time, we went visit in'. On +Saturday nights we had big time foah der wuz mos' all'us dancin' an' +we'd dance long as de can'les lasted. Can'les wuz all we had any time +fur light."</p> + +<p>"I 'member one de neighbah boys tried to run 'way an' de patrollahs got +'im an' fetched 'im back an' he shure dun got a wallopin' fer it. Dat +dun tuk any sich notion out my head. Dem patrollahs dun keep us skeered +to deaf all de time. One, Henry Jones, runned off and went cleah up Norf +sum place an' dey neber did git 'im. 'Course we all wuz shure powahful +glad 'bout his 'scapin'."</p> + +<p>"We'se neber 'lowed out de cabin at night. But sum times de oldah 'uns +wud sneak out at night an'tak de hosses an' tak a leetle ride. An' man +it wud bin jes' too bad if ol' Marse John ketched 'em: dat wuz shure +heaps o' fun fer de kids. I 'member hearin' wunce de ol' folks talkin' +'bout de way one Marse dun sum black boys dat dun sumthin' wrong. He +jes' mak 'em bite off de heads o' baccer wurms; mysef I'd ruther tuk a +lickin."</p> + +<p>"On Christmus Day, we'd git fiah crackahs an' drink brandy, dat wuz all. +Dat day wuz only one we didn't wurk. On Saturday evenin's we'd mold +candles, dat wuzn't so bad."</p> + +<p>"De happies' time o' my life wuz when Cap'n Tipton, a Yankee soljer +cumed an' tol' us de wah wuz ober an' we wuz free. Cap'n. Tipton sez, +"Youse de boys we dun dis foah". We shure didn't lose no time gittin' +'way; no man."</p> + +<p>"We went to Lewisburg an' den up to Cha'leston by wagon an' den tuk de +guvment boat, <u>Genrul Crooks</u>, an' it brung us heah to Gallipolis +in 1865. Dat Ohio shoah shure looked prutty."</p> + +<p>"I'se shure thankful to Mr. Lincoln foah whut he dun foah us folks, but +dat Jeff Davis, well I ain't sayin' whut I'se thinkin'."</p> + +<p>"De is jes' like de worl', der is lots o' good an' lots o' bad in it."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ClarkFleming"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slavery<br> +Jefferson Co, District #2<br> +<br> +FLEMING CLARK<br> +Ex-Slave, 74+ in years</h3> +<br> + +<p>My father's name wuz Fleming Clark and my mother's name wuz Emmaline +Clark. Both of dem wuz in slavery. Der massa's name wuz David Bowers. I +don't know where dey cum from but dey moved to Bad Creek after slavery +days.</p> + +<p>Der wuz three of us chillun. Charles, de oldest, den Anthony next and +den me, de youngest. I wuz workin' for a white man and wuz old enough to +drive cows and work in de 'bacco fields, pickin' worms off de leaves. De +other brudders worked wid my father on another plantation. De house +where I lived wid de white Massa Lewis Northsinge and his Missus, wuz a +log house wid just two rooms. I had just a little straw tick and a cot +dat de massa made himself and I hed a common quilt dat de missus made to +cover me.</p> + +<p>I hear dat my grandmother died during slavery and dat my grandfather wuz +killed by his massa during slavery.</p> + +<p>On Sunday I would go home and stay wid my father and mother and two +brothers. We would play around wid ball and marbles. We had no school or +church. We were too far away for church.</p> + +<p>I earned no money. All I got wus just my food and clothes. I wuz leasted +out to my massa and missus. I ate corn bread, fat hog meat and drank +butter milk. Sometimes my father would catch possum and my mother would +cook them, and bring me over a piece. I used to eat rabbit and fish. Dey +used to go fishin' in de creek. I liked rabbit and groundhog. De food +wuz boiled and roasted in de oven. De slaves have a little patch for a +garden and day work it mostly at night when it wuz moonlight.</p> + +<p>We wore geans and shirts of yellow cotton, we wore no shoes up til +Christmas. I wore just de same during de summer except a little coat. We +had no under shirt lik we have now. We wore de same on Sunday. Der wuz +no Sunday suit.</p> + +<p>De mass and missus hed one boy. De boy wuz much older than I. Dey were +all kind to me. I remember plenty poor white chillun. I remember Will +and John Nathan. Dey were poor white people.</p> + +<p>My massa had three plantations. He had five slaves on one and four on +another. I worked on one with four slaves. My father worked on one wid +my brother and mother. We would wake up at 4 and 5 o'clock and do chores +in de barn by lamp light. De overseer would ring a bell in de yeard, if +it wuz not too cold to go out. If it wuz too cold he would cum and knock +on de door. It wuz 8 or 9 o'clock fore we cum in at night. Den we have +to milk de cows to fore we have supper.</p> + +<p>De slaves were punished fore cumin' in too soon and unhitching de +horses. Dey would bend dem accross a barrel and switch dem and den send +dem back to de fields.</p> + +<p>I head dem say dey switch de blood out of dem and salt de wound den dey +could not work de next day.</p> + +<p>I saw slaves sold. Dey would stand on a block and men would bid for dem. +De highest bidder bought de slaves. I saw dem travel in groups, not +chained, one white man in front and one in back. Dey looked like cattle.</p> + +<p>De white folks never learned me to read or write.</p> + +<p>Der were petrollers. Dey were mean if dey catch you out late at night. +If a slave wus out late at night he had to have a notice from his massa. +Der wuz trouble if de slaves were out late at night or if dey run off to +another man.</p> + +<p>De slaves worked on Saturday afternoons. Dey stay in de cabins on +Saturday nights and Sundays. We worked on New Years day. De massa would +give us a little hard cider on Christmas day. Dey would give a big +supper at corn huskin' or cotton pickin' and give a little play or +somethin' lik dat.</p> + +<p>I remember two weddings. Dey hed chicken, and mutton to eat and corn +bread. Dey all ganged round de table. Der wur milk and butter. I +remember one wedding of de white people. I made de ice cream for dem. I +remember playin' marbles and ball.</p> + +<p>Sometimes a racer snake would run after us, wrap round us and whip us +with its tail. The first one I remember got after me in de orchard. He +wrapped right round me and whipped me with his tail.</p> + +<p>My mother took care of de slaves when dey were sick. You had to be awful +sick if dey didn't make you go out. Dey made der own medicine in those +days. We used asafetida and put a piece in a bag and hung it round our +necks. It wuz supposed to keep us from ketchin' diseases from anyone +else.</p> + +<p>When freedom cum dey were all shoutin' and I run to my mother and asked +her what it wuz all bout. De white man said you are all free and can go. +I remember the Yankee soldier comin' through the wheat field.</p> + +<p>My parents lived very light de first year after de war. We lived in a +log cabin. De white man helped dem a little. My father went to work +makin' charcoal. Der wuz no school for Negroes and no land that I +remember.</p> + +<p>I married Alice Thompson. She wuz 16 and I wuz 26. We hed a little +weddin' down in Bushannon, Virginny. A Baptist preacher named Shirley +married us. Der were bout a dozen at de weddin'. We hed a little dancin' +and banjo play in'. I hed two chillun but dey died and my wife died a +long, long time ago.</p> + +<p>I just heard a little bout Abraham Lincoln. I believe he wuz a good man. +I just hed a slight remembrance of Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis. +I have heard of Booker T. Washington, felt just de same bout him. A +pretty good man.</p> + +<p>I think it wuz a great thing that slavery anded, I would not lik to see +it now.</p> + +<p>I joined de Baptist church but I have been runnin' round from place to +place. We always prosper and get along with our fellowmen if we are +religious.</p> + +<p>De overseer wuz poor white trash. His rules were you hed to be out on de +plantation before daylight. Sometimes we hed to sit around on de fence +to wait for daylight and we did not go in before dark. We go in bout one +for meals.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DavidsonHannah"></a> +<h3>K. Osthimer, Author<br> +Aug 12, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore: Stories from Ex-Slaves<br> +Lucas County, District Nine<br> +Toledo, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. HANNAH DAVIDSON.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Hannah Davidson occupies two rooms in a home at 533 Woodland +Avenue, Toledo, Ohio. Born on a plantation in Ballard County, Kentucky, +in 1852, she is today a little, white-haired old lady. Dark, flashing +eyes peer through her spectacles. Always quick to learn, she has taught +herself to read. She says, "I could always spell almost everything." She +has eagerly sought education. Much of her ability to read has been +gained from attendance in recent years in WPA "opportunity classes" in +the city. Today, this warm-hearted, quiet little Negro woman ekes out a +bare existence on an old age pension of $23.00 a month. It is with +regret that she recalls the shadows and sufferings of the past. She +says, "It is best not to talk about them. The things that my sister May +and I suffered were so terrible that people would not believe them. It +is best not to have such things in our memory."</p> + +<p>"My father and mother were Isaac and Nancy Meriwether," she stated. "All +the slaves went under the name of my master and mistress, Emmett and +Susan Meriwether. I had four sisters and two brothers. There was +Adeline, Dorah, Alice, and Lizzie. My brothers were Major and George +Meriwether. We lived in a log cabin made of sticks and dirt, you know, +logs and dirt stuck in the cracks. We slept on beds made of boards +nailed up.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember anything about my grandparents. My folks were sold +around and I couldn't keep track of them.</p> + +<p>"The first work I did out from home was with my mistress's brother, Dr. +Jim Taylor, in Kentucky, taking care of his children. I was an awful +tiny little somethin' about eight or nine years old. I used to turn the +reel for the old folks who was spinning. That's all I've ever +known—work.</p> + +<p>"I never got a penny. My master kept me and my sister Mary twenty-two +long years after we were supposed to be free. Work, work, work. I don't +think my sister and I ever went to bed before twelve o'clock at night. +We never got a penny. They could have spared it, too; they had enough.</p> + +<p>"We ate corn bread and fat meat. Meat and bread, we kids called it. We +all had a pint tin cup of buttermilk. No slaves had their own gardens.</p> + +<p>"The men just wore jeans. The slaves all made their own clothes. They +just wove all the time; the old women wove all the time. I wasn't old +enough to go in the field like the oldest children. The oldest +children—they <u>worked</u>. After slavery ended, my sister Mary and me +worked as ex-slaves, and we <u>worked</u>. Most of the slaves had shoes, +but us kids used to run around barefoot most of the time.</p> + +<p>"My folks, my master and mistress, lived in a great, white, frame house, +just the same as a hotel. I grew up with the youngest child, Mayo. The +other white children grew up and worked as overseers. Mayo always wanted +me to call him 'Master Mayo'. I fought him all the time. I never would +call him 'Master Mayo'. My mistress wouldn't let anyone harm me and she +made Mayo behave.</p> + +<p>"My master wouldn't let the poor white neighbors—no one—tell us we was +free. The plantation was many, many acres, hundreds and hundreds of +acres, honey. There were about twenty-five or thirty families of slaves. +They got up and stood until daylight, waiting to plow. Yes, child, they +was up <u>early</u>. Our folks don't know how we had to work. I don't +like to tell you how we were treated—how we had to <u>work</u>. It's +best to brush those things out of our memory.</p> + +<p>"If you wanted to go to another plantation, you had to have a pass. If +my folks was going to somebody's house, they'd have to have a pass. +Otherwise they'd be whipped. They'd take a big man and tie his hands +behind a tree, just like that big tree outside, and whip him with a +rawhide and draw blood every whip. I know I was scared every time I'd +hear the slave say, 'Pray, Master.'</p> + +<p>"Once, when I was milking a cow, I asked Master Ousley, 'Master Ousley, +will you do me a favor?'</p> + +<p>"He said in his drawl, 'Of course I will.'</p> + +<p>"'Take me to McCracken County,' I said. I didn't even know where +McCracken County was, but my sister was there. I wanted to find my +sister. When I reached the house where my sister stayed, I went through +the gate. I asked if this was the house where Mary Meriwether lived. Her +mistress said, 'Yes, she's in the back. Are you the girl Mr. +Meriwether's looking for?" My heart was in my mouth. It just seemed I +couldn't go through the gate. I never even saw my sister that time. I +hid for a while and then went back.</p> + +<p>"We didn't have any churches. My master would come down Sunday morning +with just enough flour to make bread. Coffee, too. Their coffee was +parts of meal, corn and so on. Work all week and that's what they had +for coffee.</p> + +<p>"We used to sing, 'Swing low, sweet chariot'. When our folks sang that, +we could really see the chariot.</p> + +<p>"Once, Jim Ferguson, a colored man, came to teach school. The white +folks beat and whipped him and drove him away in his underwear.</p> + +<p>"I wanted so hard to learn to read, but I didn't even know I was free, +even when slavery was ended.</p> + +<p>"I been so exhausted working, I was like an inch-worm crawling along a +roof. I worked till I thought another lick would kill me. If you had +something to do, you did it or got whipped. Once I was so tired I +couldn't work any more. I crawled in a hole under the house and stayed +there till I was rested. I didn't get whipped, either.</p> + +<p>"I never will forget it—how my master always used to say, 'Keep a +nigger down' I never will forget it. I used to wait on table and I heard +them talk.</p> + +<p>"The only fun we had was on Sunday evening, after work. That was the +only chance we got. We used to go away off from the house and play in +the haystack.</p> + +<p>"Our folks was so cruel, the slaves used to whisper 'round. Some of them +knew they was free, even if the white folks didn't want 'em to find out +they was free. They went off in the woods sometimes. But I was just a +little kid and I wasn't allowed to go around the big folks.</p> + +<p>"I seen enough what the old folks went through. My sister and I went +through enough after slavery was over. For twenty-one long years we were +enslaved, even after we were supposed to be free. We didn't even know we +were free. We had to wash the white people's feet when they took their +shoes off at night—the men and women.</p> + +<p>"Sundays the slaves would wash out their clothes. It was the only time +they had to themselves. Some of the old men worked in their tobacco +patches. We never observed Christmas. We never had no holidays, son, +<u>no, sir</u>! We didn't know what the word was.</p> + +<p>"I never saw any slave funerals. Some slaves died, but I never saw any +of them buried. I didn't see any funerals at all.</p> + +<p>"The white folks would come down to the cabins to marry the slaves. The +master or mistress would read a little out of a book. That's all there +was to it.</p> + +<p>"We used to play a game called 'Hulgul'. We'd play it in the cabins and +sometimes with the white children. We'd hold hazelnuts in our hands. I'd +say 'Hulgul' How many? You'd guess. If you hit it right, you'd get them +all and it would be your turn to say 'Hulgul'. If you'd say 'Three!' and +I only had two, you'd have to give me another to make three.</p> + +<p>"The kids nowadays can go right to the store and buy a ball to play +with. We'd have to make a ball out of yarn and put a sock around it for +a cover. Six of us would stay on one side of a house and six on the +other side. Then we'd throw the ball over the roof and say 'Catch!' If +you'd catch it you'd run around to the; other side and hit somebody, +then start over. We worked so hard we couldn't play long on Sunday +evenings.</p> + +<p>"School? We never seen the inside of a schoolhouse. Mistress used to +read the Bible to us every Sunday morning.</p> + +<p>"We say two songs I still remember.</p> + +<pre> +"I think when I read that sweet story of old, +When Jesus was here among men, +How he called little children like lambs to his fold, +I should like to have been with them then. + +"I wish that his hands had been placed on my head, +That his arms had been thrown around me, +That I might have seen his kind face when he said +'Let the little ones come unto me.' + +"Yet still to his footstool in prayer I nay go +And ask for a share of his love, +And that I might earnestly seek Him below +And see Him and hear Him above. +</pre> + +<p>"Then there was another:</p> + +<pre> +"I want to be an angel +And with the angels stand +With a crown upon my Forehead +And a harp within my hand. + +"And there before my Saviour, +So glorious and so bright, +I'd make the sweetest music +And praise him day and night. +</pre> + +<p>"And as soon as we got through singing those songs, we had to get right +out to work. I was always glad when they called us in the house to +Sunday school. It was the only chance we'd get to rest.</p> + +<p>"When the slaves got sick, they'd take and look after themselves. My +master had a whole wall of his house for medicine, just like a store. +They made their own medicines and pills. My mistress's brother, Dr. Jim +Taylor, was a doctor. They done their own doctoring. I still have the +mark where I was vaccinated by my master.</p> + +<p>"People was lousy in them days. I always had to pick louses from the +heads of the white children. You don't find children like that nowadays.</p> + +<p>"My mistress had a little roan horse. She went all through the war on +that horse. Us little kids never went around the big folks. We didn't +watch folks faces to learn, like children do now. They wouldn't let us. +All I know about the Civil War was that it was goin' on. I heard talk +about killin' and so on, but I didn't know no thin' about it.</p> + +<p>"My mother was the last slave to get off the plantation. She travelled +across the plantation all night with us children. It was pouring rain. +The white folks surrounded her and took away us children, and gave her +so many minutes to get off the plantation. We never saw her again. She +died away from us.</p> + +<p>"My brother came to see us once when slavery was over. He was grown up. +My master wasn't going to let him see us and he took up his gun. My +mistress said he should let him see us. My brother gave me a little +coral ring. I thought it was the prettiest thing I ever saw.</p> + +<p>"I made my sister leave. I took a rolling pin to make her go and she +finally left. They didn't have any more business with us than you have +right now.</p> + +<p>"I remember when Yankee soldiers came riding through the yard. I was +scared and ran away crying. I can see them now. Their swords hung at +their sides and their horses walked proud, as if they walked on their +hind legs. The master was in the field trying to hide his money and guns +and things. The soldiers said, 'We won't hurt you, child.' It made me +feel wonderful.</p> + +<p>"What I call the Ku Klux were those people who met at night and if they +heard anybody saying you was free, they would take you out at night and +whip you. They were the plantation owners. I never saw them ride, but I +heard about them and what they did. My master used to tell us he wished +he knew who the Ku Kluxers were. But he knew, all right, I used to wait +on table and I heard them talking. 'Gonna lynch another nigger tonight!'</p> + +<p>"The slaves tried to get schools, but they didn't get any. Finally they +started a few schools in little log cabins. But we children, my sister +and I, never went to school.</p> + +<p>"I married William L. Davison, when I was thirty-two years old. That was +after I left the plantation. I never had company there. I had to +<u>work</u>. I have only one grandchild still living, Willa May +Reynolds. She taught school in City Grove, Tennessee. She's married now.</p> + +<p>"I thought Abe Lincoln was a great man. What little I know about him, I +always thought he was a great man. He did a lot of good.</p> + +<p>"Us kids always used to sing a song, 'Gonna hang Jeff Davis to a sour +apple tree as we go marchin' home.' I didn't know what it meant at the +time.</p> + +<p>"I never knew much about Booker T. Washington, but I heard about him. +Frederick Douglass was a great man, too. He did lots of good, like Abe +Lincoln.</p> + +<p>"Well, slavery's over and I think that's a grand thing. A white lady +recently asked me, 'Don't you think you were better off under the white +people?' I said 'What you talkin' about? The birds of the air have their +freedom'. I don't know why she should ask me that anyway.</p> + +<p>"I belong to the Third Baptist Church. I think all people should be +religious. Christ was a missionary. He went about doing good to people. +You should be clean, honest, and do everything good for people. I first +turn the searchlight on myself. To be a true Christian, you must do as +Christ said: 'Love one another'. You know, that's why I said I didn't +want to tell about my life and the terrible things that I and my sister +Mary suffered. I want to forgive those people. Some people tell me those +people are in hell now. But I don't think that. I believe we should all +do good to everybody."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DempseyMaryBelle"></a> +<h3>Betty Lugabell, Reporter [TR: also reported as Lugabill]<br> +Harold Pugh, Editor<br> +R.S. Drum, Supervisor<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore: Ex-Slaves<br> +Paulding Co., District 10<br> +<br> +MARY BELLE DEMPSEY<br> +Ex-Slave, 87 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>"I was only two years old when my family moved here, from <u>Wilford</u> +county, Kentucky. 'Course I don't remember anything of our slave days, +but my mother told me all about it."</p> + +<p>"My mother and father were named Sidney Jane and William Booker. I had +one brother named George William Booker."</p> + +<p>"The man who owned my father and mother was a good man." He was good to +them and never 'bused them. He had quite a large plantation and owned 26 +slaves. Each slave family had a house of their own and the women of each +family prepared the meals, in their cabins. These cabins were warm and +in good shape."</p> + +<p>"The master farmed his land and the men folks helped in the fields but +the women took care of their homes."</p> + +<p>"We had our churches, too. Sometimes the white folks would try to cause +trouble when the negroes were holding their meetings, then a night the +men of the church would place chunks and matches on the white folks gate +post. In the morning the white folks would find them and know that it +was a warning if they din't quit causing trouble their buildings would +be burned."</p> + +<p>"There was a farm that joined my parents' master's place and the owner +was about ready to sell the mother slave with her five small children. +The children carried on so much because they were to be separated that +the mistress bought them back although she had very little money to +spare."</p> + +<p>"I don't know any more slave stories, but now I am getting old, and I +know that I do not have long to live, but I'm not sorry, I am, ready to +go. I have lived as the Lord wants us to live and I know that when I die +I shall join many of my friends and relatives in the Lord's place. +Religion is the finest thing on earth. It is the one and only thing that +matters."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="EastNancy"></a> +<h3>Former Slave Interview, Special<br> +Aug 16, 1937<br> +<br> +Butler County, District #2<br> +Middletown <br> +<br> +MRS. NANCY EAST<br> +809 Seventeenth Ave., <br> +Middletown, Ohio</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Mammy" East, 809 Seventeenth Ave., Middletown, Ohio, rules a four-room +bungalow in the negro district set aside by the American Rolling Mill +Corporation. She lives there with her sons, workers in the mill, and +keeps them an immaculate home in the manner which she was taught on a +Southern plantation. Her house is furnished with modern electrical +appliances and furniture, but she herself is an anachronism, a personage +with no faith in modern methods of living, one who belongs in that vague +period designated as "befo' de wah."</p> + +<p>"I 'membahs all 'bout de slave time. I was powerful small but my mother +and daddy done tole me all 'bout it. Mother and daddy bofe come from +Vaginny; mother's mama did too. She was a weaver and made all our +clothes and de white folks clothes. Dat's all she ever did; just weave +and spin. Gran'mama and her chilluns was <u>sold</u> to the Lett fambly, +two brothers from Monroe County, Alabama. <u>Sole</u> jist like cows, +honey, right off the block, jist like cows. But they was good to they +slaves.</p> + +<p>"My mother's last name was Lett, after the white folks, and my daddy's +name was Harris Mosley, after his master. After mother and daddy +married, the Mosleys done bought her from the Letts so they could be +together. They was brother-in-laws. Den I was named after Miss Nancy. +Dey was Miss Nancy and Miss Hattie and two boys in the Mosleys. Land, +honey, they had a big (waving her hands in the air) plantation; a whole +section; and de biggest home you done ever see. We darkies had cabins. +Jist as clean and nice. Them Mosleys, they had a grist mill and a gin. +They like my daddy and he worked in de mill for them. Dey sure was good +to us. My mother worked on de place for Miss Nancy."</p> + +<p>Mammy East, in a neat, voile dress and little pig-tails all over her +head, is a tall, light-skinned Negro, who admits that she would much +rather care for children than attend to the other duties of the little +house she owns; but the white spreads on the beds and the spotless +kitchen is no indication of this fact. She has a passion for the good +old times when the Negroes had security with no responsibility. Her +tall, statuesque appearance is in direct contrast to the present-day +conception of old southern "mammmies."</p> + +<p>"De wah, honey? Why, when dem Yankees come through our county mother and +Miss Nancy and de rest hid de hosses in de swamps and hid other things +in the house, but dey got all the cattle and hogs. Killed 'em, but only +took the hams. Killed all de chickens and things, too. But dey didn't +hurt the house.</p> + +<p>"After de wah, everybody jist went on working same as ever. Then one day +a white mans come riding through the county and tole us we was free. +<u>Free!</u> Honey, did yo' hear <u>that</u>? Why we always had been +free. He didn't know what he was talking 'bout. He kept telling us we +was free and dat we oughtn't to work for no white folks 'less'n we got +paid for it. Well Miss Nancy took care of us then. We got our cabin and +a piece of ground for a garden and a share of de crops. Daddy worked in +de mill. Miss Nancy saw to it that we always had nice clothes too.</p> + +<p>"Ku Klux, honey? Why, we nevah did hear tell of no sich thing where we +was. Nevah heered nothin' 'bout dat atall until we come up here, and dey +had em here. Law, honey, folks don't know when dey's well off. My daddy +worked in de mill and save his money, and twelve yeahs aftah de wah he +bought two hundred and twenty acres of land, 'bout ten miles away. Den +latah on daddy bought de mill from de Mosleys too. Yas'm, my daddy was +well off.</p> + +<p>"My, you had to be somebody to votes. I sure do 'membahs all 'bout dat. +You had to be edicated and have money to votes. But I don' 'membahs no +trouble 'bout de votin'. Not where we come from, no how.</p> + +<p>"I was married down dere. Mah husband's fust name was Monroe after the +county we lived in. My chilluns was named aftah some of the Mosleys. I +got a Ed and Hattie. Aftah my daddy died we each got forty acahs. I sold +mine and come up here to live with my boys.</p> + +<p>"But honey dis ain't no way to raise chilluns. Not lak dey raised now. +All dis dishonesty and stealin' and laziness. <u>No mam!</u> Look here +at my gran'sons. Eatin' offen dey daddy. No place for 'em. Got +edication, and caint git no jobs outside cuttin' grass and de like. Down +on de plantation ev'body worked. No laziness er 'oneriness, er nothin! I +tells yo' honey, I sure do wish these chilluns had de chances we had. +Not much learnin', but we had up-bringin'! Look at dem chilluns across +de street. Jist had a big fight ovah dere, and dey mothah's too lazy to +do any thing 'bout it. No'm, nevah did see none o' dat when we was +young. Gittin' in de folkeses hen houses and stealing, and de carryins +on at night. <u>No mam!</u> I sure do wish de old times was here.</p> + +<p>"I went back two-three yeahs ago, to de old home place, and dere it was, +jist same as when I was livin' with Miss Nancy. Co'se, theys all dead +and gone now, but some of the gran'chilluns was around. Yas'm, I membahs +heap bout dem times."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="GlennWade"></a> +<h3>Miriam Logan, Reporter<br> +Lebanon, Ohio<br> +<br> +Warren County, District 21<br> +<br> +Story of WADE GLENN from Winston-Salem North Carolina:<br> +(doesn't know his age)</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Yes Madam, I were a slave—I'm old enough to have been born into +slavery, but I was only a baby slave, for I do not remember about +slavery, I've just heard them tell about it. My Mammy were Lydia Glenn, +and father were Caesar Glenn, for they belonged to old Glenn. I've heard +tell he were a mean man too. My birthday is October 30th—but what +year—I don't know. There were eight brothers and two sisters. We lived +on John Beck's farm—a big farm, and the first work for me to do was +picking up chips o' wood, and lookin' after hogs.</p> + +<p>"In those days they'd all kinds of work by hand on the farm. No Madam, +no cotton to speak of, or tobacco <u>then</u>. Just farmin' corn, hogs, +wheat fruit,—like here. Yes Madam, that was all on John Beck's farm +except the flax and the big wooley sheep. Plenty of nice clean +flax-cloth suits we all had.</p> + +<p>"Beck wasn't so good—but we had enough to eat, wear, and could have our +Saturday afternoon to go to town, and Sunday for church. We sho did have +church, large meetin'—camp meetin'—with lot of singin' an shoutin' and +it was fine! Nevah was no singer, but I was a good dancer in my day, +yes—yes Madam I were a good dancer. I went to dances and to church with +my folks. My father played a violin. He played well, so did my brother, +but I never did play or sing. Mammy sang a lot when she was spinning and +weaving. She sing an' that big wheel a turnin.'</p> + +<pre> +"When I can read my title clear, +Up Yonder, Up Yonder, Up Yonder! +</pre> + +<p>and another of her spinnin' songs was a humin:—</p> + +<pre> +"The Promise of God Salvation free to give..." +</pre> + +<p>"Besides helpin' on the farm, father was ferryman on the Yadkin River +for Beck. He had a boat for hire. Sometimes passengers would want to go +a mile, sometimes 30. Father died at thirty-five. He played the violin +fine. My brother played for dances, and he used to sing lots of songs:—</p> + +<pre> +"Ol' Aunt Katy, fine ol' soul, +She's beatin' her batter, +In a brand new bowl... +</pre> + +<p>—that was a fetchin' tune, but you see I can't even carry it. Maybe I +could think up the words of a lot of those ol' tunes but they ought to +pay well for them, for they make money out of them. I liked to go to +church and to dances both. For a big church to sing I like 'Nearer My +God to Thee'—there isn't anything so good for a big crowd to sing out +big!</p> + +<p>"Father died when he was thirty-five of typhoid. We all had to work +hard. I came up here in 1892—and I don't know why I should have, for +Winston-Salem was a big place. I've worked on farm and roads. My wife +died ten years ago. We adopted a girl in Tennennesee years ago, and she +takes a care of me now. She was always good to us—a good girl. Yes, +Madam."</p> + +<p>Wade Glenn proved to be not nearly so interesting as his appearance +promised. He is short; wears gold rimmed glasses; a Southern Colonel's +Mustache and Goatee—and capitals are need to describe the style! He had +his comical-serious little countenance topped off with a soft felt hat +worn at the most rakish angle. He can't carry a tune, and really is not +musical. His adopted daughter with whom he lives is rated the town's +best colored cook.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="HallDavidA"></a> +<h3>Ohio Guide, Special<br> +Ex-Slave Stories<br> +August 16, 1937<br> +<br> +DAVID A. HALL</h3> +<br> + +<p>"I was born at Goldsboro, N.C., July 25, 1847. I never knew who owned my +father, but my mother's master's name was Lifich Pamer. My mother did +not live on the plantation but had a little cabin in town. You see, she +worked as a cook in the hotel and her master wanted her to live close to +her work. I was born in the cabin in town.</p> + +<p>"No, I never went to school, but I was taught a little by my master's +daughter, and can read and write a little. As a slave boy I had to work +in the military school in Goldsboro. I waited on tables and washed +dishes, but my wages went to my master the sane as my mother's.</p> + +<p>"I was about fourteen when the war broke out, and remember when the +Yankees came through our town. There was a Yankee soldier by the name of +Kuhns who took charge of a Government Store. He would sell tobacco and +such like to the soldiers. He was the man who told me I was free and +then give me a job working in the store.</p> + +<p>"I had some brothers and sisters but I do not remember them—can't tell +you anything about them.</p> + +<p>"Our beds were homemade out of poplar lumber and we slept on straw +ticks. We had good things to eat and a lot of corn cakes and sweet +potatoes. I had pretty good clothes, shoes, pants and a shirt, the same +winter and summer.</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about the plantation as I had to work in town and +did not go out there very much. No, I don't know how big it was or how +many slaves there was. I never heard of any uprisings either.</p> + +<p>"Our overseer was 'poor white-trash', hired by the master. I remember +the master lived in a big white house and he was always kind to his +slaves, so was his wife and children, but we didn't like the overseer. I +heard of some slaves being whipped, but I never was and I did not see +any of the others get punished. Yes, there was a jail on the plantation +where slaves had to go if they wouldn't behave. I never saw a slave in +chains but I have seen colored men in the chain gang since the war.</p> + +<p>"We had a negro church in town and slaves that could be trusted could go +to church. It was a Methodist Church and we sang negro spirituals.</p> + +<p>"We could go to the funeral of a relative and quit work until it was +over and then went back to work. There was a graveyard on the +plantation.</p> + +<p>"A lot of slaves ran away and if they were caught they were brought back +and put in the stocks until they were sold. The master would never keep +a runaway slave. We used to have fights with the 'white trash' sometimes +and once I was hit by a rock throwed by a white boy and that's what this +lump on my head is.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we had to work every day but Sunday. The slaves did not have any +holidays. I did not have time to play games but used to watch the slaves +sing and dance after dark. I don't remember any stories.</p> + +<p>"When the slaves heard they had been set free, I remember a lot of them +were sorry and did not want to leave the plantation. No, I never heard +of any in our section getting any mules or land.</p> + +<p>"I do remember the 'night riders' that come through our country after +the war. They put the horse shoes on the horses backwards and wrapped +the horses feet in burlap so we couldn't hear them coming. The colored +folks were deathly afraid of these men and would all run and hide when +they heard they were coming. These 'night riders' used to steal +everything the colored people had—even their beds and straw ticks.</p> + +<p>"Right after the war I was brought north by Mr. Kuhns I spoke of, and +for a short while I worked at the milling trade in Tiffin and came to +Canton in 1866. Mr. Kuhns owned a part in the old flour mill here (now +the Ohio Builders and Milling Co.) and he give me a job as a miller. I +worked there until the end of last year, 70 years, and I am sure this is +a record in Canton. No, I never worked any other place.</p> + +<p>"I was married July 4, 1871 to Jennie Scott in Massillon. We had four +children but they are all dead except one boy. Our first baby—a girl +named Mary Jane, born February 21, 1872, was the first colored child +born in Canton. My wife died in 1926. No, I do not know when she was +born, but I do know she was not a slave.</p> + +<p>"I started to vote after I came north but did not ever vote in the +south. I do not like the way the young people of today live; they are +too fast and drink too much. Yes, I think this is true of the white +children the same as the colored.</p> + +<p>"I saved my money when I worked and when I quit I had three properties. +I sold one of these, gave one to my son, and I am living in the other. +No, I have never had to ask for charity. I also get a pension check +from, the mill where I worked so long.</p> + +<p>"I joined church simply because I thought it would make me a better man +and I think every one should belong. I have been a member of St. Paul's +A.M.E. church here in Canton for 54 years. Yesterday (Sunday, August 15, +1937) our church celebrated by burning the mortgage. As I was the oldest +member I was one of the three who lit it, the other two are the only +living charter members. My church friends made me a present yesterday of +$100.00 which was a birthday gift. I was 90 years old the 25th of last +month."</p> + +<p>Hall resides at 1225 High Ave., S.W., Canton, Ohio.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="HendersonCelia"></a> +<h3>Miriam Logan<br> +Lebanon, Ohio<br> +<br> +MRS. CELIA HENDERSON, aged 88<br> +Born Hardin County, Kentucky in 1849</h3> + +<p>(drawing of Celia Henderson) [TR: no drawing found]</p> +<br> + +<p>"Mah mammy were Julia Dittoe, an pappy, he were name Willis Dittoe. Dey +live at Louieville till mammy were sold fo' her marster's debt. She were +a powerful good cook, mammy were—an she were sol' fo to pay dat debt."</p> + +<p>"She tuk us four chillen 'long wid her, an pappy an th' others staid +back in Louieville. Dey tuk us all on a boat de Big Ribber—evah heah ob +de big ribber? Mississippi its name—but we calls it de big ribber."</p> + +<p>"<u>Natchez on de hill</u>—dats whaah de tuk us to. Nactchez-on-de-hill +dis side of N' Or'leans. Mammy she have eleven chillen. No 'em, don't +'member all dem names no mo'. No 'em, nevah see pappy no moah. Im +'member mammy cryin' goin' down on de boat, and us chillen a cryin' too, +but de place we got us was a nice place, nicer den what we left. Family +'o name of GROHAGEN it was dat got us. Yas'em dey was nice to mammy fo' +she was a fine cook, mammy wus. A fine cook!"</p> + +<p>"Me? Go'Long! I ain't no sech cook as my mammy was. But mah boy, he were +a fine cook. I ain't nothin' of a cook. Yas'em, I cook fo Mis Gallagher, +an fo 4 o' de sheriffs here, up at de jail. But de fancy cookin' I ain't +much on, no'em I ain't. But mah boy an mammy now, dey was fine! Mah boy +cook at hotels and wealthy homes in Louieville 'til he died."</p> + +<p>"Dey was cotton down dere in Natchez, but no tobacco like up here. No +'em, I nevah wuk in cotton fields. I he'p mammy tote water, hunt chips, +hunt pigs, get things outa de col' house. Dat way, I guess I went to wuk +when I wuz about 7 or 8 yeahs ol'. Chillen is sma't now, an dey hafto be +taught to wuk, but dem days us culled chillen wuk; an we had a good time +wukin' fo dey wernt no shows, no playthings lak dey have now to takey up +day time, no'em."</p> + +<p>"Nevah no church fo' culled people does I 'member in Natchez. One time +dey was a drouth, an de water we hauls from way ovah to de rivah. Now +dat wuz down right wuk, a haulin dat water. Dey wuz an ol' man, he were +powerful in prayer, an gather de darkies unda a big tree, an we all +kneels down whilse he pray fo de po' beastes what needs good clean water +fo to drink. Dat wuz a putty sight, dat church meetin' under de big +tree. I alus member dat, an how, dat day he foun a spring wid he ol' +cane, jes' like a miracle after prayer. It were a putty sight to see mah +cows an all de cattle a trottin' fo dat water. De mens dey dug out a +round pond fo' de water to run up into outa de spring, an it wuz good +watah dat wudn't make de beastes sick, an we-all was sho' happy.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes'em, I'se de only one of mammy's chillen livin'. She had 11 chillen. +Mah gran'na on pappy's side, she live to be one hundred an ten yeah's +ol' powerful ol' ev'y body say, an she were part Indian, gran'ma were, +an dat made her live to be ol'.</p> + +<p>"Me? I had two husband an three chillen. Mah firs' husban die an lef' me +wid three little chillens, an mah secon' husban', he die 'bout six yeahs +ago. Ah cum heah to Lebanon about forty yeahs ago, because mah mammy +were heah, an she wanted me to come. When ah wuz little, we live nine +yeahs in Natchez on de hill. Den when de wah were ovah Mammy she want to +go back to Louieville fo her folks wuz all theah. Ah live in Louieville +til ah cum to Lebanon. All ah 'members bout de close o'de wah, wuz dat +white folks wuz broke up an po' down dere at Natchez; and de fus time ah +hears de EMANICAPTION read out dey was a lot o' prancin 'roun, an a big +time."</p> + +<p>"Ah seen soldiers in blue down there in Natchez on de hill, oncet ah +seen dem cumin down de road when ah were drivin mah cows up de road. Ah +wuz scared sho, an' ah hid in de bushes side o' de road til dey went by, +don' member dat mah cows was much scared though." Mammy say 'bettah hide +when you sees sojers a-marchin by, so dat time a whole line o dem cum +along and I hide."</p> + +<p>"Down dere mammy done her cookin' outa doors, wid a big oven. Yo gits yo +fiah goin' jes so under de oven, den you shovels some fiah up on top de +oven fo to get you bakin jes right. Dey wuz big black kettles wid hooks +an dey run up an down like on pulleys ovah de oven stove. Den dere wuz +de col'house. No 'lectric ice box lak now, but a house under groun' +wheah things wuz kept jest as col' as a ice box. No'em don't 'member jes +how it were fix inside."</p> + +<p>"Yas'em we comes back to Louieville. Yes'em mah chillen goes to school, +lak ah nevah did. Culled teachers in de culled school. Yes'em mah +chillen went far as dey could take 'em."</p> + +<p>"Medicin? My ol' mammy were great fo herb doctorin' an I holds by dat +too a good deal, yas'em. Now-a-days you gets a rusty nail in yo foot an +has lockjaw. But ah member mammy—she put soot mix wid bacon fryin's on +mah foot when ah run a big nail inter it, an mah foot get well as nice!"</p> + +<p>"Long time ago ah cum heah to see mammy, Ah got a terrible misery. Ah +wuz asleep a dreamin bout it, an a sayin, "Mammy yo reckon axel grease +goin' to he'p it?" Den ah wake up an go to her wheahs she's sleepin an +say it.</p> + +<p>"What fo axel grease gointo hep?—an I tol her, an she say:—</p> + +<p>"Axel grease put on hot, wid red flannel goin'to tak it away chile."</p> + +<p>Ah were an ol' woman mahse'f den—bout fifty, but mammy she climb outa +bed an go out in de yard where deys an ol' wagon, an she scrapes dat +axel off, an heat it up an put it on wid red flannel. Den ah got easy! +Ah sho was thankful when dat grease an flannel got to wukin on me!</p> + +<p>"You try it sometime when you gets one o' dem col' miseries in de winter +time. But go 'long! Folks is too sma't nowadays to use dem good ol' +medicines. Dey jes' calls de Doctor an he come an cut 'em wide open fo +de 'pendycitus—he sho do! Yas'em ah has de doctor, ef ah needs him. Ah +has de rheumatism, no pain—ah jes gets stiffer, an' stiffer right +along."</p> + +<p>Mah sight sho am poor now. Ah cain't wuk no mo. Ah done ironin aftah ah +quit cookin—washin an ironin, ah likes a nice wash an iron the bes fo +wuk. But lasyear mah eyes done give out on me, an dey tell me not to +worry dey gointo give me a pension. De man goes to a heap o' wuk to get +dem papers fix jes right."</p> + +<p>"Yes 'em, I'se de on'y one o' mammy's chillen livin. Mah, gran'ma on +pappy's side, she live to be one hundred and ten yeah's ol—powerful ol +eve'ybody say. She were part Indian, gran' ma were, an dat made her to +be ol."</p> + +<p>"Yes'em, mos' I evah earn were five dollars a week. Ah gets twenty +dollars now, an pays eight dollars fo rent. We is got no mo'—ah +figgers—a wukin fo ourself den what we'd have wuz we slaves, fo dey +gives you a log house, an clothes, an yo eats all yo want to, an when +you <u>buys</u> things, maybe you doesn't make enough to git you what +you needs, wukin sun-up to sun down. No' em 'course ah isn't wukin +<u>now</u> when you gits be de hour—wukin people does now; but ah don't +know nothin 'but that way o'doin."</p> + +<p>"We weahs cotton cloths when ah were young, jes plain weave it were; no +collar nor cuffs, n' belt like store clothes. Den men's jes have a kinda +clothes like ... well, like a chemise, den some pantaloons wid a string +run through at de knees. Bare feet—yes'em, no shoes. Nevah need no coat +down to Natchez, no'em."</p> + +<p>"When we comes back to Louieville on de boat, we sleeps in de straw on +de flo' o' de boat. It gits colder 'n colder! Come big chunks ol ice +down de river. De sky am dark, an hit col' an spit snow. Ah wish ah were +back dere in Natchez dat time after de war were ovah! Yes'em, ah members +dat much."</p> + +<p>"Ah wuk along wid mammy til ah were married, den ah gits on by mahsef. +Manny she come heah to Lebanon wid de Suttons—she married Sam. Sutton's +pappy. Yes 'em dey wuz about 12 o'de fambly cum heah, an ah come to see +mammy,... den ah gits me wuk, an ah stays.</p> + +<p>"Cookin'? Yes'em, way meat is so high now, ah likes groundhog. Ground +hog is good eatin. A peddler was by wid groun' hog fo ten cents apiece. +Ground hog is good as fried chicken any day. You cleans de hog, an boils +it in salt water til its tender. Den you makes flour gravy, puts it on +after de water am drain off; you puts it in de oven wif de lid on an +bakes hit a nice brown. No 'em, don' like fish so well, nor coon, nor +possum, dey is too greasy. Likes chicken, groundhog an pork." Wid de +wild meat you wants plain boiled potatoes, yes'em Irish potatoes, sho +enough, ah heard o' eatin skunk, and muskrat, but ah ain't cookin em. +But ah tells you dat groun' hog is <u>good eatin</u>.</p> + +<p>"Ah were Baptized by a white minister in Louieville, an' ah been a +Baptist fo' sixty yeahs now. Yes'em dey is plenty o' colored churches in +Louisville now, but when I were young, de white folks has to see to it +dat we is Baptised an knows Bible verses an' hymns. Dere want no smart +culled preachers like Reverend Williams ... an dey ain't so many now."</p> + +<p>"Up to Xenia is de culled school, an dey is mo's smart culled folks, ol' +ones too—dat could give you-all a real story if you finds dem. But me, +ah cain't read, nor write, and don't member's nuthin fo de War no good."</p> + +<p>Celia is very black as to complexion; tall spare; has small grey eyes. +In three long interviews she has tried very hard to remember for us from +her youth and back through the years; it seems to trouble her that she +cannot remember more. Samuel Sutton's father married her mother. Neither +she or Samuel had the kind of a story to tell that I was expecting to +hear from what little I know about colored people. I may have tried to +get them on the songs and amusements of their youth too often, but it +seems that most that they knew was work; did not sing or have a very +good time. Of course I thought they would say that slavery was terrible, +but was surprised there too. Colored people here are used to having +white people come for them to work as they have no telephones, and most +white people only hire colored help by the day or as needed. Celia and +Samuel, old age pensioners, were very apoligetic because they are no +longer able to work.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="JacksonGeorge"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Bishop & Isleman<br> +Reporter: Bishop<br> +[HW: Revised]<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slaves.<br> +Jefferson County, District #5<br> +July 6, 1937<br> +<br> +GEORGE JACKSON<br> +Ex-Slave, 79 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>I was born in Loudon County, Virginny, Feb. 6, 1858. My mother's name +was Betsy Jackson. My father's name was Henry Jackson. Dey were slaves +and was born right der in Loudon County. I had 16 brothers and sisters. +All of dem is dead. My brothers were Henry, Richard, Wesley, John and +me; Sisters were Annie, Marion, Sarah Jane, Elizabeth, Alice, Cecila and +Meryl. Der were three other chillun dat died when babies.</p> + +<p>I can remember Henry pullin' me out of de fire. I've got scars on my leg +yet. He was sold out of de family to a man dat was Wesley McGuest. +Afterwards my brother was taken sick with small-pox and died.</p> + +<p>We lived on a big plantation right close to Bloomfield, Virginny. I was +born in de storeroom close to massa's home. It was called de weavin' +room—place where dey weaved cotton and yarn. My bed was like a little +cradle bed and dey push it under de big bed at day time.</p> + +<p>My grandfather died so my mother told me, when he was very old. My +grandmother died when se bout 96. She went blind fore she died. Dey were +all slaves.</p> + +<p>My father was owned by John Butler and my grandmother was owned by Tommy +Humphries. Dey were both farmers. My massa joined de war. He was killed +right der where he lived.</p> + +<p>When my father wanted to cum home he had to get a permit from his massa. +He would only cum home on Saturday. He worked on de next plantation +joinin' us. All us chillun and my mother belonged to Massa Humphries.</p> + +<p>I worked in de garden, hoein' weeds and den I washed dishes in de +kitchen. I never got any money.</p> + +<p>I eat fat pork, corn bread, black molasses and bad milk. The meat was +mostly boiled. I lived on fat meat and corn bread. I don't remember +eatin' rabbit, possum or fish.</p> + +<p>De slaves on our plantation did not own der own garden. Dey ate +vegetables out of de big garden.</p> + +<p>In hot weather I wore gean pants and shirt. De pants were red color and +shirt white. I wore heavy woolen clothes in de winter. I wore little +britches wid jacket fastened on. I went barefooted in de summer.</p> + +<p>De mistress scold and beat me when I was pullin' weeds. Sometimes I +pulled a cabbage stead of weed. She would jump me and beat me. I can +remember cryin'. She told me she had to learn me to be careful. I +remember the massa when he went to war. He was a picket in an apple +tree. A Yankee soldier spied and shot him out of de tree.</p> + +<p>I remember Miss Ledig Humphries. She was a pretty girl and she had a +sister Susie. She married a Mr. Chamlain who was overseer. Der were +Robert and Herbert Humphries. Dey were older dan me. Robert wuz about 15 +years old when de war surrender.</p> + +<p>De one that married Susie was de overseer. He was pretty rough. I don't +remember any white neighbors round at dat time.</p> + +<p>Der were 450 acres of de plantation. I can't remember all de slaves. I +know der were 80, odd slaves.</p> + +<p>Lots of mornings I would go out hours fore daylight and when it was cold +my feet would 'most freeze. They all knew dey had to get up in de +mornin'. De slaves all worked hard and late at night.</p> + +<p>I heerd some say that the overseer would take dem to de barn. I remember +Tom Lewis. Then his massa sold him to our massa he told him not to let +the overseer whip him. The overseer said he would whip him. One day Tom +did something wrong. The overseer ordered him to de barn. Tom took his +shirt off to get ready for de whippin' and when de overseer raised de +whip Tom gave him one lick wid his fist and broke de overseer's neck.</p> + +<p>Den de massa sold Tom to a man by de name of Joseph Fletcher. He stayed +with old man Fletcher til he died.</p> + +<p>Fore de slaves were sold dey were put in a cell place til next day when +dey would be sold. Uncle Marshall and Douglas were sold and I remember +dem handcuffed but I never saw dem on de auction block.</p> + +<p>I never knew nothin' bout de Bible til after I was free. I went to +school bout three months. I was 19 or 20 years old den.</p> + +<p>My uncle Bill heard dey were goin' to sell him and he run away. He went +north and cum back after de surrender. He died in Bluemont, Virginny, +bout four years ago.</p> + +<p>After de days work dey would have banjo pickin', singin' and dancin'. +Dey work all day Saturday and Saturday night those dat had wives to see +would go to see dem. On Sunday de would sit around.</p> + +<p>When Massa was shot my mother and dem was cryin'.</p> + +<p>When Slaves were sick one of the mammies would look after dem and dey +would call de doctor if she couldn't fix de sick.</p> + +<p>I remember de big battle dey fought for four days on de plantation. That +was de battle of Bull Run. I heard shootin' and saw soldiers shot down. +It was one of de worst fights of de war. It was right between Blue Ridge +and Bull Run mountain. De smoke from de shootin' was just like a fog. I +saw horses and men runnin' to de fight and men shot off de horses. I +heard de cannon roar and saw de locust tree cut off in de yard. Some of +de bullets smashed de house. De apple tree where my massa was shot from +was in de orchard not far from de house.</p> + +<p>De Union Soldiers won de battle and dey camped right by de house. Dey +helped demselves to de chickens and cut their heads off wid their +swords. Dey broke into de cellar and took wine and preserves.</p> + +<p>After de war I worked in de cornfield. Dey pay my mother for me in food +and clothes. But dey paid my mother money for workin' in de kitchen.</p> + +<p>De slaves were awful glad bout de surrender.</p> + +<p>De Klu Klux Klan, we called dem de paroles, dey would run de colored +people, who were out late, back home. I know no school or church or land +for negroes. I married in Farguar [HW: Farquhar] Co., state of Virginny, +in de county seat. Dat was in 1883. I was married by a Methodist +preacher in Leesburg. I did not get drunk, but had plenty to drink. We +had singin' and music. My sister was a religious woman and would not +allow dancin'.</p> + +<p>I have fourteen chillun. Four boys are livin' and two girls. All are +married. George, my oldest boy graduated from grade school and de next +boy. I have 24 grandchillun and one great grandson. John, my son is +sickly and not able to work and my daughter, Mamie has nine chillun to +support. Her husband doesn't have steady work.</p> + +<p>The grandchillun are doin' pretty well.</p> + +<p>I think Abraham Lincoln was a fine man. It was put in his mind to free +de colored people. Booker T. Washington was alright.</p> + +<p>Henry Logan, a colored man that lives near Bridgeport, Ohio is a great +man. He is a deacon in de Mt. Zion Baptist church. He is a plasterer and +liked by de colored and white people.</p> + +<p>I think it wuz a fine thing that slavery was finished. I don't have a +thing more than my chillun and dey are all poor. (A grandchild nearby +said, "We are as poor as church mice".) My chillun are my best friends +and dey love me.</p> + +<p>I first joined church at Upperville, Virginny. I was buried under de +water. I feel dat everybody should have religion. Dey get on better in +dis life, and not only in dis life but in de life to cum.</p> + +<p>My overseer wuz just a plain man. He wasn't hard. I worked for him since +the surrender and since I been a man. I was down home bout six yares ago +and met de overseer's son and he took me and my wife around in his +automobile.</p> + +<p>My wife died de ninth of last October (1936). I buried her in Week's +cemetery, near Bridgeport, Ohio. We have a family burial lot there. Dat +where I want to be buried, if I die around here.</p> +<br> + +<a name="JacksonGeorge2"></a> +<b>Description of GEORGE JACKSON</b> [TR: original "Word Picture" struck out] + +<p>George Jackson is about 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighs 145 lbs. He has +not done any manual labor for the past two years. He attends church +regularly at the Mt. Zion Baptist church. As he only attended school +about four months his reading is limited. His vision and hearing is fair +and he takes a walk everyday. He does not smoke, chew or drink +intoxicating beverages.</p> + +<p>His wife, Malina died October 9, 1936 and was buried at Bridgeport, +Ohio. He lives with his daughter-in-law whose husband forks for a junk +dealer. The four room house that they rent for $20 per month is in a bad +state of repairs and is in the midst of one of the poorest sections of +Steubenville.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="JemisonPerrySid"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Written by Bishop & Isleman<br> +Edited by Albert I. Dugen [TR: also reported as Dugan]<br> +<br> +Ex-Slaves<br> +Jefferson County, District #2<br> +<br> +PERRY SID JEMISON [TR: also reported as Jamison]<br> +Ex-Slave, 79 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>(Perry Sid Jemison lives with his married daughter and some of his +grand-children at 422 South Sixth Street, Steubenville, O.)</p> + +<p>"I wuz borned in Perry County, Alabama! De way I remember my age is, I +was 37 years when I wuz married and dat wuz 42 years ago the 12th day of +last May. I hed all dis down on papers, but I hab been stayin' in +different places de last six years and lost my papers and some heavy +insurance in jumpin' round from place to place.</p> + +<p>"My mudders name wuz Jane Perry. Father's name wuz Sid Jemison. Father +died and William Perry was mudders second husband.</p> + +<p>"My mudder wuz a Virginian and my father was a South Carolinian. My +oldest brodder was named Sebron and oldest sister wuz Maggie. Den de +next brudder wuz William, de next sister wuz named Artie, next Susie. +Dats all of dem.</p> + +<p>"De hol entire family lived together on the Cakhoba river, Perry County, +Alabama. After dat we wuz scattered about, some God knows where.</p> + +<p>"We chillun played 'chicken me craner crow'. We go out in de sand and +build sand houses and put out little tools and one thing and another in +der.</p> + +<p>"When we wuz all together we lived in a log hut. Der wuz a porch in +between and two rooms on each side. De porch wuz covered over—all of it +wuz under one roof.</p> + +<p>"Our bed wuz a wooden frame wid slats nailed on it. We jus had a common +hay mattress to sleep on. We had very respectable quilts, because my +mudder made them. I believe we had better bed covers dem days den we hab +des days.</p> + +<p>"My grandmother wuz named Snooky and my grandfather Anthony. I thought +der wasn't a better friend in all de world den my grandmother. She would +do all she could for her grandchildren. Der wuz no food allowance for +chillun that could not work and my grandmother fed us out of her and my +mudders allowance. I member my grandmudder giving us pot-licker, bread +and red syrup.</p> + +<p>"De furst work I done to get my food wuz to carry water in de field to +de hands dat wuz workin'. De next work after dat, wuz when I wuz large +enough to plow. Den I done eberything else that come to mind on de farm. +I neber earned money in dem slave days.</p> + +<p>"Your general food wuz such as sweet potatoes, peas and turnip greens. +Den we would jump out and ketch a coon or possum. We ate rabbits, +squirrels, ground-hog and hog meat. We had fish, cat-fish and scale +fish. Such things as greens, we boil dem. Fish we fry. Possum we parboil +den pick him up and bake him. Of all dat meat I prefar fish and rabbit. +When it come to vegetables, cabbage wuz my delight, and turnips. De +slaves had their own garden patch.</p> + +<p>"I wore one piece suit until I wuz near grown, jes one garment dat we +called et dat time, going out in your shirt tail. In de winter we had +cotton shirt with a string to tie de collar, instead of a button and +tie. We war den same on Sunday, excepting dat mudder would wash and iron +dem for dat day.</p> + +<p>"We went barefooted in de summer and in de winter we wore brogan shoes. +Dey were made of heavy stiff leather.</p> + +<p>"My massa wuz named Sam Jemison and his wife wuz named Chloe. Dey had +chillun. One of the boys wuz named Sam after his father. De udder wuz +Jack. Der wuz daughter Nellie. Dem wuz all I know bout. De had a large +six room building. It wuz weather boarded and built on de common order.</p> + +<p>"Dey hed 750 acres on de plantation. De Jemisons sold de plantation to +my uncle after the surrender and I heard him say ever so many times that +it was 750 acres. Der wuz bout 60 slaves on de plantation. Dey work hard +and late at night. Dey tole me dey were up fore daylight and in de +fields til dark.</p> + +<p>"I heard my mudder say dat the mistress was a fine woman, but dat de +marse was rigied [TR: rigid?].</p> + +<p>"De white folks did not help us to learn to read or write. De furst +school I remember dat wuz accessbile was foh 90 days duration. I could +only go when it wuz too wet to work in de fields. I wuz bout 16 years +when I went to de school.</p> + +<p>"Der wuz no church on de plantation. Couldn't none of us read. But after +de surrender I remember de furst preacher I ebber heard. I remember de +text. His name was Charles Fletcher. De text was "Awake thou dat +sleepeth, arise from de dead and Christ will give you life!" I remember +of one of de baptizing. De men dat did it was Emanuel Sanders. Dis wuz +de song dat dey sing: "Beside de gospel pool, Appointed for de poor." +Dat is all I member of dat song now.</p> + +<p>"I heard of de slaves running away to de north, but I nebber knew one to +do it. My mudder tole me bout patrollers. Dey would ketch de slaves when +dey were out late and whip and thress dem. Some of de owners would not +stand for it and if de slaves would tell de massa he might whip de +patrollers if he could ketch dem.</p> + +<p>"I knowed one colored boy. He wuz a fighter. He wuz six foot tall and +over 200 pounds. He would not stand to be whipped by de white man. Dey +called him Jack. Des wuz after de surrender. De white men could do +nothin' wid him. En so one day dey got a crowd together and dey shoot +him. It wuz a senation [TR: sensation?] in de country, but no one was +arrested for it.</p> + +<p>"De slaves work on Saturday afternoon and sometimes on Sunday. On +Saturday night de slaves would slip around to de next plantation and +have parties and dancin' and so on.</p> + +<p>"When I wuz a child I played, 'chicken me craner crow' and would build +little sand houses and call dem frog dens and we play hidin' switches. +One of de play songs wuz 'Rockaby Miss Susie girl' and 'Sugar Queen in +goin south, carrying de young ones in her mouth.'</p> + +<p>"I remember several riddles. One wuz:</p> + +<pre> +'My father had a little seal, +Sixteen inches high. +He roamed the hills in old Kentuck, +And also in sunny Spain. +If any man can beat dat, +I'll try my hand agin.' +</pre> + +<p>"One little speech I know:</p> + +<pre> +'I tumbled down one day, +When de water was wide and deep +I place my foot on the de goose's back +And lovely swam de creek.' +</pre> + +<p>"When I wuz a little boy I wuz follin' wid my father's scythe. It fell +on my arm and nearly cut if off. Dey got somethin' and bind it up. +Eventually after a while, it mended up.</p> + +<p>"De marse give de sick slaves a dose of turpentine, blue mass, caromel +and number six.</p> + +<p>"After de surrender my mother tole me dat the marse told de slaves dat +dey could buy de place or dey could share de crops wid him and he would +rent dem de land.</p> + +<p>"I married Lizzie Perry, in Perry County Alabama. A preacher married us +by the name of John Jemison. We just played around after de weddin' and +hed a good time til bedtime come, and dat wuz very soon wid me.</p> + +<p>"I am de father of seven chillun. Both daughters married and dey are +housekeepers. I have 11 grandchillun. Three of dem are full grown and +married. One of dem has graduated from high school.</p> + +<p>"Abraham Lincoln fixed it so de slaves could be free. He struck off de +handcuffs and de ankle cuffs from de slaves. But how could I be free if +I had to go back to my massa and beg for bread, clothes and shelter? It +is up to everybody to work for freedom.</p> + +<p>"I don't think dat Jefferson Davus wuz much in favor of liberality. I +think dat Booker T. Washington wuz a man of de furst magnitude. When it +come to de historiance I don't know much about dem, but according to +what I red in dem, Fred Douglas, Christopher Hatton, Peter Salem, all of +dem colored men—dey wuz great men. Christopher Hatton wuz de furst +slave to dream of liberty and den shed his blood for it. De three of dem +play a conspicuous part in de emancipation.</p> + +<p>"I think it's a good thing dat slavery is ended, for God hadn't intended +there to be no man a slave.</p> + +<p>"My reason for joining de church is, de church is said to be de furst +born, the general assembly of the living God. I joined it to be in the +general assembly of God.</p> + +<p>"We have had too much destructive religion. We need pure and undefiled +religion. If we had dat religion, conditions would be de reverse of that +dey are."</p> +<br> + +<p>(<b>Note:</b> The worker who interviewed this old man was impressed with his +deep religious nature and the manner in which there would crop out in +his conversation the facile use of such words as eventually, general, +accessible, etc. The interview also revealed that the old man had a +knowledge of the scripture. He claims to be a preacher and during the +conversation gave indications of the oratory that is peculiar to old +style colored preachers.)</p> +<br> + +<a name="JamisonPerrySid"></a> +<b>Word Picture of PERRY SID JAMISON and his Home</b> +[TR: also reported as Jemison] + +<p>Mr. Jamison is about 5'2" and weighs 130 pounds. Except for a slight +limp, caused by a broken bone that did not heal, necessitating the use +of a cane, he gets around in a lively manner. He takes a walk each +morning and has a smile for everybody.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamison is an elder in the Second Baptist Church and possesses a +deep religious nature. In his conversation there crops out the facile +use of such words as "eventually", "general", "accessible", and the +like. He has not been engaged in manual labor since 1907. Since then he +has made his living as an evangelist for the colored Baptist church.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamison says he does not like to travel around without something +more than a verbal word to certify who and what he is. He produced a +certificate from the "Illinois Theological Seminary" awarding him the +degree of Doctor of Divinity and dated December 15, 1933, and signed by +Rev. Walter Pitty for the trustees and S. Billup, D.D., Ph.D. as the +president. Another document was a minister's license issued by the +Probate court of Jefferson county authorizing him to perform marriage +ceremonies. He has his ordination certificate dated November 7, 1900, at +Red Mountain Baptist Church, Sloss, Alabama, which certifies that he was +ordained an elder of that church; it is signed by Dr. G.S. Smith, +Moderator. Then he has two letters of recommendation from churches in +Alabama and Chicago.</p> + +<p>That Mr. Jamison is a vigerous preacher is attested by other ministers +who say they never knew a man of his age to preach like he does.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamison lives with his daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Cookes, whose +husband is a WPA worker. Also living in the house is the daughter's son, +employed as a laborer, and his wife. Between them all, a rent of $28.00 +a month is paid for the house of six rooms. The house at 424 S. Seventh +Street, Steubenville, is in a respectable part of the city and is of the +type used by poorer classes of laborers.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamison's wife died June 4, 1928, and since then he has lived with +his daughter. In his conversation he gives indication of a latent +oratory easily called forth.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="KingJulia"></a> +<h3>K. Osthimer, Author<br> +<br> +Folklore: Stories From Ex-Slaves<br> +Lucas County, Dist. 9<br> +Toledo, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. JULIA KING of Toledo, Ohio.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Julia King resides at 731 Oakwood Avenue, Toledo, Ohio. Although +the records of the family births were destroyed by a fire years ago, +Mrs. King places her age at about eighty years. Her husband, Albert +King, who died two years ago, was the first Negro policeman employed on +the Toledo police force. Mrs. King, whose hair is whitening with age, is +a kind and motherly woman, small in stature, pleasing and quiet in +conversation. She lives with her adopted daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth King +Kimbrew, who works as an elevator operator at the Lasalle & Koch Co. +Mrs. King walks with a limp and moves about with some difficulty. She +was the first colored juvenile officer in Toledo, and worked for twenty +years under Judges O'Donnell and Austin, the first three years as a +volunteer without pay.</p> + +<p>Before her marriage, Mrs. King was Julia Ward. She was born in +Louisville, Kentucky. Her parents Samuel and Matilda Ward, were slaves. +She had one sister, Mary Ward, a year and a half older than herself.</p> + +<p>She related her story in her own way. "Mamma was keeping house. Papa +paid the white people who owned them, for her time. He left before Momma +did. He run away to Canada on the Underground Railroad.</p> + +<p>"My mother's mistress—I don't remember her name—used to come and take +Mary with her to market every day. The morning my mother ran away, her +mistress decided she wouldn't take Mary with her to market. Mamma was +glad, because she had almost made up her mind to go, even without Mary.</p> + +<p>"Mamma went down to the boat. A man on the boat told Mamma not to answer +the door for anybody, until he gave her the signal. The man was a +Quaker, one of those people who says 'Thee' and 'Thou'. Mary kept on +calling out the mistress's name and Mamma couldn't keep her still.</p> + +<p>"When the boat docked, the man told Mamma he thought her master was +about. He told Mamma to put a veil over her face, in case the master was +coming. He told Mamma he would cut the master's heart out and give it to +her, before he would ever let her be taken.</p> + +<p>"She left the boat before reaching Canada, somewhere on the Underground +Railroad—Detroit, I think—and a woman who took her in said: 'Come in, +my child, you're safe now.' Then Mama met my father in Windsor. I think +they were taken to Canada free.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember anything about grandparents at all.</p> + +<p>"Father was a cook.</p> + +<p>"Mother's mistress was always good and kind to her.</p> + +<p>"When I was born, mother's master said he was worth three hundred +dollars more. I don't know if he ever would have sold me.</p> + +<p>"I think our home was on the plantation. We lived in a cabin and there +must have been at least six or eight cabins.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Simon, who boarded with me in later years, was a kind of +overseer. Whenever he told his master the slaves did something wrong, +the slaves were whipped, and Uncle Simon was whipped, too. I asked him +why he should be whipped, he hadn't done anything wrong. But Uncle Simon +said he guessed he needed it anyway.</p> + +<p>"I think there was a jail on the plantation, because Mamma said if the +slaves weren't in at a certain hour at night, the watchman would lock +them up if he found them out after hours without a pass.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Simon used to tell me slaves were not allowed to read and write. +If you ever got caught reading or writing, the white folks would punish +you. Uncle Simon said they were beaten with a leather strap cut into +strips at the end.</p> + +<p>"I think the colored folks had a church, because Mamma was always a +Baptist. Only colored people went to the church.</p> + +<p>"Mamma used to sing a song:</p> + +<pre> +"Don't you remember the promise that you made, +To my old dying mother's request? +That I never should be sold, +Not for silver or for gold. +While the sun rose from the East to the West? + +"And it hadn't been a year, +The grass had not grown over her grave. +I was advertised for sale. +And I would have been in jail, +If I had not crossed the deep, dancing waves. + +"I'm upon the Northern banks +And beneath the Lion's paw, +And he'll growl if you come near the shore. +</pre> + +<p>"The slaves left the plantation because they were sold and their +children were sold. Sometimes their masters were mean and cranky.</p> + +<p>"The slaves used to get together in their cabins and tell one another +the news in the evening. They visited, the same as anybody else. +Evenings, Mamma did the washing and ironing and cooked for my father.</p> + +<p>"When the slaves got sick, the other slaves generally looked after them. +They had white doctors, who took care of the families, and they looked +after the slaves, too, but the slaves looked after each other when they +got sick.</p> + +<p>"I remember in the Civil War, how the soldiers went away. I seen them +all go to war. Lots of colored folks went. That was the time we were +living in Detroit. The Negro people were tickled to death because it was +to free the slaves.</p> + +<p>"Mamma said the Ku Klux was against the Catholics, but not against the +Negroes. The Nightriders would turn out at night. They were also called +the Know-Nothings, that's what they always said. They were the same as +the Nightriders. One night, the Nightriders in Louisville surrounded a +block of buildings occupied by Catholic people. They permitted the women +and children to exscape, but killed all the men. When they found out the +men were putting on women's clothes, they killed everything, women and +children, too. It was terrible. That must have been about eighty years +ago, when I was a very little girl.</p> + +<p>"There was no school for Negro children during slavery, but they have +schools in Louisville, now, and they're doing fine.</p> + +<p>"I had two little girls. One died when she was three years old, the +other when she was thirteen. I had two children I adopted. One died just +before she was to graduate from Scott High School.</p> + +<p>"I think Lincoln was a grand man! He was the first president I heard of. +Jeff Davis, I think he was tough. He was against the colored people. He +was no friend of the colored people. Abe Lincoln was a real friend.</p> + +<p>"I knew Booker T. Washington and his wife. I belonged to a society that +his wife belonged to. I think it was called the National Federation of +Colored Women's Clubs. I heard him speak here in Toledo. I think it was +in the Methodist church. He wanted the colored people to educate +themselves. Lots of them wanted to be teachers and doctors, but he +wanted them to have farms. He wanted them to get an education and make +something of themselves. All the prominent Negro women belonged to the +Club. We met once a year. I went to quite a few cities where the +meetings were held: Detroit, Cleveland, and Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>"The only thing I had against Frederick Douglass was that he married a +white woman. I never heard Douglass speak.</p> + +<p>"I knew some others too. I think Paul Lawrence Dunbar was a fine young +man. I heard him recite his poems. He visited with us right here several +times.</p> + +<p>"I knew Charles Cottrell, too. He was an engraver. There was a young +fellow who went to Scott High. He was quite an artist; I can't remember +his name. He was the one who did the fine picture of my daughter that +hangs in the parlor.</p> + +<p>"I think slavery is a terrible system. I think slavery is the cause of +mixing. If people want to choose somebody, it should be their own color. +Many masters had children from their Negro slaves, but the slaves +weren't able to help themselves.</p> + +<p>"I'm a member of the Third Baptist Church. None join unless they've been +immersed. That's what I believe in. I don't believe in christening or +pouring. When the bishop was here from Cleveland, I said I wanted to be +immersed. He said, 'We'll take you under the water as far as you care to +go.' I think the other churches are good, too. But I was born and raised +a Baptist. Joining a church or not joining a church won't keep you out +of heaven, but I think you should join a church."</p> + +<p>(Interview, Thursday, June 10, 1937.)</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="LesterAngeline"></a> +<h3>Story and Photo by Frank M. Smith<br> +<br> +Ex-Slaves<br> +Mahoning County, Dist. #5<br> +Youngstown, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. ANGELINE LESTER, of Youngstown, Ohio.</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_AL"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/alester.jpg' width='240' height='424' alt='Angeline Lester'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Angeline Lester lives at 836 West Federal Street, on U.S. Route +#422, in a very dilapidated one story structure, which once was a retail +store room with an addition built on the rear at a different floor +level.</p> + +<p>Angeline lives alone and keeps her several cats and chickens in the +house with her. She was born on the plantation of Mr. Womble, near +Lumpkin, Stewart County, Georgia about 1847, the exact date not known to +her, where she lived until she was about four years old. Then her father +was sold to a Dr. Sales, near Brooksville, Georgia, and her mother and a +sister two years younger were sold to John Grimrs[HW:?], who in turn +gave them to his newly married daughter, the bride of Henry Fagen, and +was taken to their plantation, near Benevolence, Randolph County, +Georgia.</p> + +<p>When the Civil War broke out, Angeline, her mother and sister were +turned over to Robert Smith, who substituted for Henry Fagen, in the +Confederate Army.</p> + +<p>Angeline remembers the soldiers coming to the plantation, but any news +about the war was kept from them. After the war a celebration was held +in Benevolence, Georgia, and Angeline says it was here she first tasted +a roasted piece of meat.</p> + +<p>The following Sunday, the negroes were called to their master's house +where they were told they were free, and those who wished, could go, and +the others could stay and he would pay them a fair wage, but if they +left they could take only the clothing on their back. Angeline said "We +couldn't tote away much clothes, because we were only given one pair of +shoes and two dresses a year."</p> + +<p>Not long after the surrender Angeline said, "My father came and gathered +us up and took us away and we worked for different white folks for +money". As time went on, Angeline's father and mother passed away, and +she married John Lester whom she has outlived.</p> + +<p>Angeline enjoys good health considering her age and she devotes her time +working "For De Laud". She says she has "Worked for De Laud in New +Castle, Pennsylvania, and I's worked for De Laud in Akron". She also +says "De Laud does not want me to smoke, or drink even tea or coffee, I +must keep my strength to work for De Laud".</p> + +<p>After having her picture taken she wanted to know what was to be done +with it and when told it was to be sent to Columbus or maybe to +Washington, D.C. she said "Lawsy me, if you had tol' me befo' I'd fixed +up a bit."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="McKimmKisey"></a> +<h3>Betty Lugabill, Reporter [TR: also reported as Lugabell]<br> +Harold Pugh, Editor<br> +R.S. Drum, Supervisor<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore: Ex-Slaves<br> +Paulding Co., District 10<br> +<br> +KISEY McKIMM<br> +Ex-Slave, 83 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>Ah was born in Bourbon county, sometime in 1853, in the state of +Kaintucky where they raise fine horses and beautiful women. Me 'n my +Mammy, Liza 'n Joe, all belonged to Marse Jacob Sandusky the richest man +in de county. Pappy, he belonged to de Henry Young's who owned de +plantation next to us.</p> + +<p>Marse Jacob was good to his slaves, but his son, Clay was mean. Ah +remembah once when he took mah Mammy out and whipped her cauz she forgot +to put cake in his basket, when he went huntin'. But dat was de las' +time, cauz de master heard of it and cussed him lak God has come down +from Hebbin.</p> + +<p>Besides doin' all de cookin' 'n she was de best in de county, mah Mammy +had to help do de chores and milk fifteen cows. De shacks of all de +slaves was set at de edge of a wood, an' Lawse, honey, us chillun used +to had to go out 'n gatha' all de twigs 'n brush 'n sweep it jes' lak a +floor.</p> + +<p>Den de Massa used to go to de court house in Paris 'n buy sheep an' +hogs. Den we use to help drive dem home. In de evenin' our Mammy took de +old cloes of Mistress Mary 'n made cloes fo' us to wear. Pappy, he come +ovah to see us every Sunday, through de summer, but in de winter, we +would only see him maybe once a month.</p> + +<p>De great day on de plantation, was Christmas when we all got a little +present from de Master. De men slaves would cut a whole pile of wood fo' +de fiah place 'n pile it on de porch. As long as de whole pile of wood +lasted we didn't hab to work but when it was gone, our Christmas was +ovah. Sometimes on Sunday afternoons, we would go to de Master's honey +room 'n he would gib us sticks of candied honey, an' Lawd chile was dem +good. I et so much once, ah got sick 'nough to die.</p> + +<p>Our Master was what white folks call a "miser". I remembah one time, he +hid $3,000, between de floor an' de ceilin', but when he went fur it, de +rats had done chewed it all up into bits. He used to go to de stock +auction, every Monday, 'n he didn't weah no stockings. He had a high +silk hat, but it was tore so bad, dat he held de top n' bottom to-gether +wid a silk neckerchief. One time when ah went wid him to drive de sheep +home, ah heard some of de men wid kid gloves, call him a "hill-billy" 'n +make fun of his clothes. But he said, "Don't look at de clothes, but +look at de man".</p> + +<p>One time, dey sent me down de road to fetch somethin' 'n I heerd a bunch +of horses comin', ah jumped ovah de fence 'n hid behind de elderberry +bushes, until dey passed, den ah ran home 'n tol' 'em what ah done seen. +Pretty soon dey come to de house, 125 Union soldiers an' asked fo' +something to eat. We all jumped roun' and fixed dem a dinnah, when dey +finished, dey looked for Master, but he was hid. Dey was gentlemen 'n +didn't botha or take nothin'. When de war was ovah de Master gave Mammy +a house an' 160 acre farm, but when he died, his son Clay tole us to get +out of de place or he'd burn de house an' us up in it, so we lef an' +moved to Paris. After I was married 'n had two children, me an my man +moved north an' I've been heah evah since.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="McMillanThomas"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Bishop & Isleman<br> +Reporter: Bishop<br> +July 7, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slaves.<br> +Jefferson County, District #5<br> +[HW: Steubenville]<br> +<br> +THOMAS McMILLAN, Ex-Slave<br> +(Does not know age)</h3> +<br> + +<p>I was borned in Monroe County, Alabam. I do not know de date. My +father's name was Dave McMillan and my mothers name was Minda. Dey cum +from Old Virginny and he was sold from der. We lived in a log house. De +beds hed ropes instead of slats and de chillun slept on de floor.</p> + +<p>Dey put us out in de garden to pick out weeds from de potatoes. We did +not get any money. We eat bread, syrup and potatoes. It wuz cooked in +pots and some was made in fire, like ash cakes. We hed possum lots of +times and rabbit and squirrel. When dey go fishin' we hed fish to eat. I +liked most anything they gave us to eat.</p> + +<p>In de summer we wore white shirt and pants and de same in de winter. We +wore brogans in de winter too.</p> + +<p>De Massa name wuz John and his wife died before I know her. He hed a boy +named John. He lived in a big house. He done de overseeing himself.</p> + +<p>He hed lots of acres in his plantation and he hed a big gang of slaves. +He hed a man to go and call de slaves up at 4 o'clock every morning. He +was good to his slaves and did not work them so late at night. I heard +some of de slaves on other plantations being punished, but our boss take +good care of us.</p> + +<p>Our Massa learn some of us to read and write, but some of de udder +massas did not.</p> + +<p>We hed church under a arbor. De preacher read de bible and he told us +what to do to be saved. I 'member he lined us up on Jordan's bank and we +sung behind him.</p> + +<p>De partrollers watch de slaves who were out at night. If dey have a pass +dey were alright. If not dey would get into it. De patrollers whip dem +and carry dem home.</p> + +<p>On Saturday afternoon dey wash de clothes and stay around. On Sunday dey +go to church. On Christmas day we did not work and dey make a nice meal +for us. We sometimes shuck corn at night. We pick cotton plenty.</p> + +<p>When we were chillun me other brudders and five sisters played marbles +together.</p> + +<p>I saw de blue jackets, dat's what we called de Yankee soldiers. When we +heard of our freedom we hated it because we did not know what it was for +and did not know where to go. De massa say we could stay as long as we +pleased.</p> + +<p>De Yankee soldier asked my father what dey wuz all doing around der and +that dey were free. But we did not know where to go. We stayed on wid de +massa for a long time after de war wuz over.</p> + +<p>De Klu Klux Klan wuz pretty rough to us and dey whip us. Der was no +school for us colored people.</p> + +<p>I wuz nearly 20 when I first took up with my first woman and lived with +her 20 years den I marry my present wife. I married her in Alabama and +Elder Worthy wuz de preacher. We had seven chillun, all grandchillun are +dead. I don't know where dey all are at excepting me daughter in +Steubenville and she is a widow. She been keepin' rooms and wash a +little for her living.</p> + +<p>I didn't hear much bout de politics but I think Abraham Lincoln done +pretty well. I reckon Jefferson Davis did the best he knowed how. Booker +T. Washington, I nebber seen him, but he wuz a great man.</p> + +<p>Religion is all right; can't find no fault with religion. I think all of +us ought to be religious because the dear Lord died for us all. Dis +world would be a better place if we all were religious.</p> +<br> + +<a name="McMillanThomas2"></a> +<b>Word Picture of MR. MCMILLAN</b> + +<p>Thomas McMillan, 909 Morris Ave., Steubenville, Ohio. He lives with his +wife, Toby who is over 50 years old. He makes his living using a hand +cart to collect junk. He is 5'6" tall and weighs 155 pounds. His beard +is gray and hair white and close cropped. He attends Mt. Zion Baptist +Church and lives his religion. He is able to read a little and takes +pleasure in reading the bible and newspaper.</p> + +<p>He has seven children. He has not heard of them for several years except +one daughter who lives in Steubenville and is a widow.</p> + +<p>His home is a three room shack and his landlord lets him stay there rent +free. The houses in the general surrounding are in a run down condition.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="MannSarah"></a> +<h3>Wilbur Ammon, Editor<br> +George Conn, Writer<br> +C.R. McLean, District Supervisor<br> +June 16, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore<br> +Summit County, District #9<br> +<br> +SARAH MANN</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Mann places her birth sometime in 1861 during the first year of the +Civil War, on a plantation owned by Dick Belcher, about thirty miles +southwest of Richmond, Virginia.</p> + +<p>Her father, Frederick Green, was owned by Belcher and her mother, Mandy +Booker, by Race Booker on an adjoining plantation. Her grandparents were +slaves of Race Booker.</p> + +<p>After the slaves were freed she went with her parents to Clover Hill, a +small hamlet, where she worked out as a servant until she married +Beverly Mann. Rev. Mike Vason, a white minister, performed the ceremony +with, only her parents and a few friends present. At the close of the +ceremony, the preacher asked if they would "live together as Isaac and +Rebecca did." Upon receiving a satisfactory reply, he pronounced them +man and wife.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Mann were of a party of more than 100 ex-slaves who left +Richmond in 1880 for Silver Creek where Mr. Mann worked in the coal +mines. Two years later they moved to Wadsworth where their first child +was born.</p> + +<p>In 1883 they came to Akron. Mr. Mann, working as laborer, was able to +purchase two houses on Furnace Street, the oldest and now one of the +poorer negro sections of the city. It is situated on a high bluff +overlooking the Little Cuyahoga River.</p> + +<p>Today Mrs. Mann, her daughter, a son-in-law and one grandchild occupy +one of the houses. Three children were born to Mr. and Mrs. Mann, but +only one is living. Mr. Mann, a deacon in the church, died three years +ago. Time has laid its heavy hand on her property. It is the average +home of colored people living in this section, two stories, small front +yeard, enclosed with wooden picket fence. A large coal stove in front +room furnishes heat. In recent years electricity has supplanted the +overhead oil lamp.</p> + +<p>Most of the furnishings were purchased in early married life. They are +somewhat worn but arranged in orderly manner and are clean.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mann is tall and angular. Her hair is streaked with gray, her face +thin, with eyes and cheek bones dominating. With little or no southern +accent, she speaks freely of her family, but refrains from discussing +affairs of others of her race.</p> + +<p>She is a firm believer in the Bible. It is apparent she strives to lead +a religious life according to her understanding. She is a member of the +Second Baptist Church since its organization in 1892.</p> + +<p>Having passed her three score and ten years she is "ready to go when the +Lord calls her."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="MatheusJohnWilliams"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Bishop & Isleman<br> +Reporter: Bishop<br> +(Revision)<br> +July 8, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slaves<br> +Jefferson County, District #5<br> +<br> +JOHN WILLIAMS MATHEUS<br> +Ex-Slave, 77 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>"My mothers name was Martha. She died when I was eleven months old. My +mother was owned by Racer Blue and his wife Scotty. When I was bout +eleven or twelve they put me out with Michael Blue and his wife Mary. +Michael Blue was a brother to Racer Blue. Racer Blue died when I was +three or four. I have a faint rememberance of him dying suddenly one +night and see him laying out. He was the first dead person I saw and it +seemed funny to me to see him laying there so stiff and still."</p> + +<p>"I remember the Yankee Soldier, a string of them on horses, coming +through Springfield, W. Va. It was like a circus parade. What made me +remember that, was a colored man standing near me who had a new hat on +his head. A soldier came by and saw the hat and he took it off the +colored man's head, and put his old dirty one on the colored man's head +and put the nice new one on his own head."</p> + +<p>"I think Abraham Lincoln the greatest man that ever lived. He belonged +to no church; but he sure was Christian. I think he was born for the +time and if he lived longer he would have done lots of good for the +colored people."</p> + +<p>"I wore jeans and they got so stiff when they were wet that they would +stand up. I wore boots in the winter, but none in the summer."</p> + +<p>"When slavery was going on there was the 'underground railway' in Ohio. +But after the surrender some of the people in Ohio were not so good to +the colored people. The old folks told me they were stoned when they +came across the river to Ohio after the surrender and that the colored +people were treated like cats and dogs."</p> + +<p>"Mary Blue had two daughters, both a little older than me and I played +with them. One day they went to pick berries. When they came back they +left the berries on the table in the kitchen and went to the front room +to talk to their mother. I remember the two steps down to the room and I +came to listen to them tell about berry pickin'. Then their mother told +me to go sweep the kitchen. I went and took the broom and saw the +berries. I helped myself to the berries. Mary wore soft shoes, so I did +not hear her coming until she was nearly in the room. I had berries in +my hand and I closed my hand around the handle of the broom with the +berries in my hand. She says, 'John, what are you doin'? I say, +'nothin'. Den she say, 'Let me see your hand! I showed her my hand with +nothin' in it. She say, 'let me see the other hand! I had to show her my +hand with the berries all crushed an the juice on my hand and on the +handle of the broom."</p> + +<p>"Den she say; 'You done two sins'. 'You stole the berries!, I don't mind +you having the berries, but you should have asked for them. 'You stole +them and you have sinned. 'Den you told a lie! She says, 'John I must +punish you, I want you to be a good man; don't try to be a great man, be +a good man then you will be a great man! She got a switch off a peach +tree and she gave me a good switching. I never forgot being caught with +the berries and the way she talked bout my two sins. That hurt me worse +than the switching. I never stole after that."</p> + +<p>"I stayed with Michael and Mary Blue till I was nineteen. They were +supposed to give me a saddle and bridle, clothes and a hundred dollars. +The massa made me mad one day. I was rendering hog fat. When the +crackling would fizzle, he hollo and say 'don't put so much fire.' He +came out again and said, 'I told you not to put too much fire,' and he +threatened to give me a thrashing. I said, 'If you do I will throw rocks +at you.'"</p> + +<p>"After that I decided to leave and I told Anna Blue I was going. She +say, 'Don't do it, you are too young to go out into the world.' I say, I +don't care, and I took a couple of sacks and put in a few things and +walked to my uncle. He was a farmer at New Creek. He told me he would +get me a job at his brothers farm until they were ready to use me in the +tannary. He gave me eight dollars a month until the tanner got ready to +use me. I went to the tanner and worked for eight dollars a week. Then I +came to Steubenville. I got work and stayed in Steubenville 18 months. +Then I went back and returned to Steubenville in 1884."</p> +<br> + +<a name="MatheusJohnWilliam2"></a> +<b>Word Picture of JOHN WILLIAM MATHEUS</b> + +<p>Mr. John William Matheus is about 5'4" and weighs about 130 pounds. He +looks smart in his bank messenger uniform. On his sleeve he wears nine +stripes. Each stripe means five years service. Two years were served +before he earned his first strip, so that gives him a total of 47 years +service for the Union Savings Bank and Trust Company, Steubenville, +Ohio. He also wears a badge which designates him as a deputy sheriff of +Jefferson County.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matheus lives with his wife at 203 Dock Street. This moderate sized +and comfortable home he has owned for over 40 years. His first wife died +several years ago. During his first marriage nine children came to them. +In his second marriage one child was born.</p> + +<p>His oldest son is John Frederick Matheus. He is a professor at +[Charleston] [HW: West Virginia] State College Institute. He was born in +Steubenville and graduated from Steubenville High School. Later he +studied in Cleveland and New York. He speaks six languages fluently and +is the author of many published short stories.</p> + +<p>Two other sons are employed in the post office, one is a mail carrier +and the other is a janitor. His only daughter is a domestic servant.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matheus attended school in Springfield, W. Va., for four years. When +he came to Steubenville he attended night school for two winters. Mr. +Dorhman J. Sinclair who founded the Union Savings Bank and Trust Co., +employed Mr. Matheus from the beginning and in recognition of his loyal +service bequeated to Mr. Matheus a pension of fifty dollars per month.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matheus is a member of the office board of the Quinn Memorial A.M.E. +He has been an elder of that church for many years and also trustee and +treasure. He frequently serves on the jury. He is well known and highly +respected in the community.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="NelsonWilliam"></a> +<h3>Sarah Probst, Reporter<br> +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor<br> +<br> +Folklore: Ex-Slaves<br> +Meigs County, District Three<br> +<br> +MR. WILLIAM NELSON<br> +Aged 88</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Whar's I bawned? 'Way down Belmont Missouri, jes' cross frum C'lumbus +Kentucky on de Mississippi. Oh, I 'lows 'twuz about 1848, caise I wuz +fo'teen when Marse Ben done brung me up to de North home with him in +1862."</p> + +<p>"My Pappy, he wuz 'Kaintuck', John Nelson an' my mammy wuz Junis Nelson. +No suh, I don't know whar dey wuz bawned, first I member 'bout wuz my +pappy buildin' railroad in Belmont. Yes suh, I had five sistahs and +bruthahs. Der names—lets see—Oh yes—der wuz, John, Jim, George, Suzan +and Ida. No, I don't member nothin' 'bout my gran'parents."</p> + +<p>"My mammy had her own cabin for hur and us chilluns. De wuz rails stuck +through de cracks in de logs fo' beds with straw on top fo' to sleep +on."</p> + +<p>"What'd I do, down dar on plantashun? I hoed corn, tatahs, garden +onions, and hepped take cair de hosses, mules an oxen. Say—I could hoe +onions goin' backwards. Yessuh, I cud."</p> + +<p>"De first money I see wuz what I got frum sum soljers fo' sellin' dem a +bucket of turtl' eggs. Dat wuz de day I run away to see sum Yankee +steamboats filled with soljers."</p> + +<p>"Marse Dick, Marse Beckwith's son used to go fishin' with me. Wunce we +ketched a fish so big it tuk three men to tote it home. Yes suh, we +always had plenty to eat. What'd I like best? Corn pone, ham, bacon, +chickens, ducks and possum. My mammy had hur own garden. In de summah +men folks weah overalls, and de womins weah cotton and all of us went +barefooted. In de winter we wore shoes made on de plantashun. I wuzn't +married 'til aftah I come up North to Ohio."</p> + +<p>"Der wuz Marse Beckwith, mighty mean ol' devel; Miss Lucy, his wife, and +de chilluns, Miss Manda, Miss Nan, and Marse Dick, and the other son wuz +killed in der war at Belmont. Deir hous' wuz big and had two stories and +porticoes and den Marse Beckwith owned land with cabins on 'em whar de +slaves lived."</p> + +<p>"No suh, we didn't hab no driver, ol' Marse dun his own drivin'. He was +a mean ol' debel and whipped his slaves of'n and hard. He'd make 'em +strip to the waist then he's lash 'em with his long blacksnake whip. Ol' +Marse he'd whip womin same as men. I member seein' 'im whip my mammy +wunce. Marse Beckwith used the big smoke hous' for de jail. I neber see +no slaves sold but I have seen 'em loaned and traded off."</p> + +<p>"I member one time a slave named Tom and his wife, my mammy an' me tried +to run away, but we's ketched and brung back. Ol' Marse whipped Tom and +my mammy and den sent Tom off on a boat."</p> + +<p>"One day a white man tol' us der wuz a war and sum day we'd be free."</p> + +<p>"I neber heard of no 'ligion, baptizing', nor God, nor Heaven, de Bible +nor education down on de plantashun, I gues' dey didn't hab nun of 'em. +When Marse Ben brung me North to Ohio with him wuz first time I knowed +'bout such things. Marse Ben and Miss Lucy mighty good to me, sent me to +school and tole me 'bout God and Heaven and took me to Church. No, de +white folks down dar neber hepped me to read or write."</p> + +<p>"The slaves wus always tiahed when dey got wurk dim in evenins' so dey +usually went to bed early so dey'd be up fo' clock next mornin'. On +Christmas Day dey always had big dinna but no tree or gifts."</p> + +<p>"How'd I cum North? Well, one day I run 'way from plantashun and hunted +'til I filled a bucket full turtl' eggs den I takes dem ovah on river +what I hears der's sum Yankee soljers and de soljers buyed my eggs and +hepped me on board de boat. Den Marse Ben, he wuz Yankee ofser, tol 'em +he take cair me and he did. Den Marse Ben got sick and cum home and +brung me along and I staid with 'em 'til I wuz 'bout fo'ty, when I gets +married and moved to Wyllis Hill. My wife, was Mary Williams, but she +died long time 'go and so did our little son, since dat time I've lived +alone."</p> + +<p>"Yessuh, I'se read 'bout Booker Washington."</p> + +<p>"I think Abraham Lincoln wuz a mighty fine man, he is de 'Saint of de +colured race'."</p> + +<p>"Good day suh."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="SlimCatherine"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Bishop & Isleman<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slaves<br> +Jefferson County, District #2<br> +<br> +MRS. CATHERINE SLIM<br> +Ex-slave, 87 years,<br> +939 N. 6th St., Steubenville</h3> +<br> + +<p>I wuz born in Rockingham, Virginny; a beautiful place where I cum from. +My age is en de courthouse, Harrisonburg, Virginny. I dunno de date of +my birth, our massa's wouldn't tell us our age.</p> + +<p>My mother's name wuz Sally. She wuz a colored woman and she died when I +wuz a little infant. I don't remember her. She had four chillun by my +father who wuz a white man. His name wuz Jack Rose. He made caskets for +de dead people.</p> + +<p>My mother had six chillun altogether. De name of de four by my father +wuz, Frances de oldest sister, Sarah wuz next, den Mary. I am de baby, +all three are dead cept me. I am very last one livin'.</p> + +<p>I had two half-brudders, dey were slaves too, John and Berwin. Berwin +wuz drowned in W. Va. He wuz bound out to Hamsburger and drowned just +after he got free. Dey did not sold infant slaves. Den dey bound out by +de court. John got free and went to Liberia and died after he got there. +He wuz my oldest brudder.</p> + +<p>I wuz bound out by de court to Marse Barley and Miss Sally. I had to git +up fore daylight and look at de clock wid de candle. I held up de candle +to de clock, but couldn't tell de time. Den dey ask me if de little hand +wuz on three mark or four mark. Dey wouldn't tell me de time but bye and +bye I learned de time myself.</p> + +<p>I asked de mistress to learn me a book and she sez, "Don't yo know we +not allowed to learn you niggers nothin', don't ask me dat no more. I'll +kill you if you do." I wuzn't goin' to ask her dat anymore.</p> + +<p>When I wuz ten years old I wuz doin' women's work. I learned to do a +little bit of eberthin'. I worked on de farm and I worked in de house. I +learned to do a little bit of eberthin'. On de farm I did eberthin' cept +plow.</p> + +<p>I lived in a nice brick house. En de front wuz de valley pike. It wuz +four and three-quarter miles to Harrisonburg and three and three-quarter +miles to Mt. Crawford. It wuz a lobley place and a fine farm.</p> + +<p>I used to sleep in a waggoner's bed. It wuz like a big bed-comfort, +stuffed with wool. I laid it on de floor and sleep on it wid a blanket +ober me, when I get up I roll up de bed and push it under de mistress's +bed.</p> + +<p>I earned money, but nebber got it. Dey wuz so mean I run away. I think +dey wuz so mean dat dey make me run away and den dey wouldn't heb to pay +de money. If I could roll up my sleeve I could show you a mark that cum +from a beatin' I had wid a cow-hide whip. Dey whip me for nothin'.</p> + +<p>After I run away I had around until the surrender cum. Eberybody cum to +life then. It wuz a hot time in de ole place when dey sezs freedom. The +colored ones jumped straight up and down.</p> + +<p>De feed us plenty. We had pork, corn, rabbit, dey hed eberythin' nice. +Dey made us stan' up to eat. Dey no low us sit down to eat. Der wuz bout +twenty or thirty slaves on de farm an some ob dem hed der own gardens. +Anythin' dey gib us to eat I liked. Dey had bees and honey.</p> + +<p>I wore little calico dress in de summer, white, red, and blue. Some hed +flowers and some hed strips. We went barefooted until Christmas. Den dey +gabe us shoes. De shoes were regular ole common shoes; not eben +calfskin. Dey weaved linen and made us our clothes. Dey hab sleeves, +plain body and little skirt. I hed two of dem for winter.</p> + +<p>I hab seen lots of slaves chained together, goin' south, some wuz +singin' and some wuz cryin'. Some hed dey chillun and some didn't.</p> + +<p>Dey took me to church wid dem and dey put me behind de door. Dey tole me +to set der till dey cum out. And when I see dem cumin' out to follow +behind and get into de carrage. I dursent say nothin'. I wuz like a +petty dog.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="SmallJennie"></a> +<h3>INTERVIEW OF EX-SLAVE FROM VIRGINIA<br> +Reported by Rev. Edward Knox<br> +Jun. 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-slaves<br> +Guernsey County, District #2<br> +<br> +JENNIE SMALL<br> +Ex-slave, over 80 years of age</h3> +<br> + +<p>I was born in Pocahontas County, Virginia in the drab and awful +surroundings of slavery. The whipping post and cruelty in general made +an indelible impression in my mind. I can see my older brothers in their +tow-shirts that fell knee-length which was sometimes their only garment, +toiling laborously under a cruel lash as the burning sun beamed down +upon their backs.</p> + +<p>Pappy McNeal (we called the master Pappy) was cruel and mean. Nothing +was too hard, too sharp, or too heavy to throw at an unfortunate slave. +I was very much afraid of him; I think as much for my brothers' sakes as +for my own. Sometimes in his fits of anger, I was afraid he might kill +someone. However, one happy spot in my heart was for his son-in-law who +told us: "Do not call Mr. McNeal the master, no one is your master but +God, call Mr. McNeal, mister." I have always had a tender spot in my +heart for him.</p> + +<p>There are all types of farm work to do and also some repair work about +the barns and carriages. It was one of these carriages my brother was +repairing when the Yankees came, but I am getting ahead of my story.</p> + +<p>I was a favorite of my master. I had a much better sleeping quarters +than my brothers. Their cots were made of straw or corn husks. Money was +very rare but we were all well-fed and kept. We wore tow-shirts which +were knee-length, and no shoes. Of course, some of the master's +favorites had some kind of footwear.</p> + +<p>There were many slaves on our plantation. I never saw any of them +auctioned off or put in chains. Our master's way of punishment was the +use of the whipping post. When we received cuts from the whip he put +soft soap and salt into our wounds to prevent scars. He did not teach us +any reading or writing; we had no special way of learning; we picked up +what little we knew.</p> + +<p>When we were ill on our plantation, Dr. Wallace, a relative of Master +McNeal, took care of us. We were always taught to fear the Yankees. One +day I was playing in the yard of our master, with the master's little +boy. Some Yankee Soldiers came up and we hid, of course, because we had +been taught to fear the soldiers. One Yankee soldier discovered me, +however, and took me on his knee and told me that they were our friends +end not our enemies; they were here to help us. After that I loved them +instead of fearing them. When we received our freedom, our master was +very sorry, because we had always done all their work, and hard labor.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="SmithAnna"></a> +<h3>Geo. H. Conn, Writer<br> +Wilbur C. Ammon, Editor<br> +C.R. McLean, District Supervisor<br> +June 11, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore<br> +Summit County, District #5<br> +<br> +ANNA SMITH</h3> +<br> + +<p>In a little old rocking chair, sits an old colored "mammy" known to her +friends as "Grandma" Smith, spending the remaining days with her +grandchildren. Small of stature, tipping the scales at about 100 lbs. +but alert to the wishes and cares of her children, this old lady keeps +posted on current events from those around her. With no stoop or bent +back and with a firm step she helps with the housework and preparing of +meals, waiting, when permitted, on others. In odd moments, she like to +work at her favorite task of "hooking" rag rugs. Never having worn +glasses, her eyesight is the envy of the younger generation. She spends +most of the time at home, preferring her rocker and pipe (she has been +smoking for more than eighty year) to a back seat in an automobile.</p> + +<p>When referring to Civil War days, her eyes flash and words flow from her +with a fluency equal to that of any youngster. Much of her speech is +hard to understand as she reverts to the early idiom and pronunciation +of her race. Her head, tongue, arms and hands all move at the same time +as she talks.</p> + +<p>A note of hesitancy about speaking of her past shows at times when she +realizes she is talking to one not of her own race, but after eight +years in the north, where she has been treated courteously by her white +neighbors, that old feeling of inferiority under which she lived during +slave days and later on a plantation in Kentucky has about disappeared.</p> + +<p>Her home is comfortably furnished two story house with a front porch +where, in the comfort of an old rocking chair, she smokes her pipe and +dreams as the days slip away. Her children and their children are +devoted to her. With but a few wants or requests her days a re quiet and +peaceful.</p> + +<p>Kentucky with its past history still retains its hold. She refers to it +as "God's Chosen Land" and would prefer to end her days where about +eighty years of her life was spent.</p> + +<p>On her 101st birthday (1935) she posed for a picture, seated in her +favorite chair with her closest friend, her pipe.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln is as big a man with her today as when he freed her +people.</p> + +<p>With the memories of the Civil War still fresh in her mind and and +secret longing to return to her Old Kentucky Home, Mrs. Anna Smith, born +in May of 1833 and better known to her friends as "Grandma" Smith, is +spending her remaining days with her grandchildren, in a pleasant home +at 518 Bishop Street.</p> + +<p>On a plantation owned by Judge Toll, on the banks of the Ohio River at +Henderson, Ke., Anna (Toll) Smith was born. From her own story, and +information gathered from other sources the year 1835 is as near a +correct date as possible to obtain.</p> + +<p>Anna Smith's parents were William Clarke and Miranda Toll. Her father +was a slave belonging to Judge Toll. It was common practice for slaves +to assume the last name of their owners.</p> + +<p>It was before war was declared between the north and south that she was +married, for she claims her daughter was "going on three" when President +Lincoln freed the slaves. Mrs. Smith remembers her father who died at +the age of 117 years.</p> + +<p>Her oldest brother was 50 when he joined the confederate army. Three +other brothers were sent to the front. One was an ambulance attendant, +one belonged to the cavalry, one an orderly seargeant and the other +joined the infantry. All were killed in action. Anna Smith's husband +later joined the war and was reported killed.</p> + +<p>When she became old enough for service she was taken into the "Big +House" of her master, where she served as kitchen helper, cook and later +as nurse, taking care of her mistress' second child.</p> + +<p>She learned her A.B.C.'s by listening to the tutor teaching the children +of Judge Toll.</p> + +<p>"Grandma" Smith's vision is the wonder of her friends. She has never +worn glasses and can distinguish objects and people at a distance as +readily as at close range. She occupies her time by hooking rag rugs and +doing housework and cooking. She is "on the go" most of the time, but +when need for rest overtakes her, she resorts to her easy chair, a +pipeful of tobacco and a short nap and she is ready to carry on.</p> + +<p>Many instances during those terrible war days are fresh in her mind: men +and boys, in pairs and groups passing the "big house" on their way to +the recruiting station on the public square, later going back in squads +and companies to fight; Yankee soldiers raiding the plantation, taking +corn and hay or whatever could be used by the northern army; and +continual apprehension for the menfolk at the front.</p> + +<p>She remembers the baying of blood hounds at night along the Ohio River, +trying to follow the scent of escaping negroes and the crack of firearms +as white people, employed by the plantation owners attempted to halt the +negroes in their efforts to cross the Ohio River into Ohio or to join +the Federal army.</p> + +<p>Referring to her early life, she recalls no special outstanding events. +Her treatment from her master and mistress was pleasant, always +receiving plenty of food and clothing but never any money.</p> + +<p>In a grove not far from the plantation home, the slaves from the nearby +estates meet on Sunday for worship. Here under the spreading branches +they gathered for religious worship and to exchange news.</p> + +<p>When President Lincoln issued his proclamation freeing the slaves, and +the news reached the plantation, she went to her master to learn if she +was free. On learning it was true she returned to her parents who were +living on another plantation.</p> + +<p>She has been living with her grandchildren for the past nine years, +contented but ready to go when the "Good Lord calls her."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="StewartNan"></a> +<h3>Sarah Probst, Reporter<br> +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore<br> +Meigs County, District Three<br> +[HW: Middeport]<br> +<br> +NAN STEWART<br> +Age 87</h3> +<br> + +<p>"I'se bawned Charl'stun, West Virginia in February 1850."</p> + +<p>"My mammy's name? Hur name wuz Kath'run Paine an' she wuz bawned down +Jackson County, Virginia. My pappy wuz John James, a coopah an' he wuz +bawned at Rock Creek, West Virginia. He cum'd ovah heah with Lightburn's +Retreat. Dey all crossed de ribah at Buffington Island. Yes, I had two +bruthahs and three sistahs. Deir wuz Jim, Thomas, he refugeed from +Charl'stun to Pum'roy and it tuk him fo' months, den de wuz sistah Adah, +Carrie an' Ella. When I rite young I wurked as hous' maid fo' numbah +quality white folks an' latah on I wuz nurs' fo' de chilluns in sum +homes, heah abouts."</p> + +<p>"Oh, de slaves quartahs, dey wuz undah de sam' ruf with Marse Hunt's big +hous' but in de back. When I'se littl' I sleeped in a trun'l bed. My +mammy wuz mighty 'ticlar an' clean, why she made us chilluns wash ouah +feets ebry night fo' we git into de bed."</p> + +<p>"When Marse Hunt muved up to Charl'stun, my mammy and pappy liv' in log +cabin."</p> + +<p>"My gran' mammy, duz I 'member hur? Honey chile, I shure duz. She wuz my +pappy's mammy. She wuz one hun'erd and fo' yeahs ol' when she die rite +in hur cheer. Dat mawhin' she eat a big hearty brekfast. One day I +'member she sezs to Marse Hunt, 'I hopes you buys hun'erds an' hun'erds +ob slaves an' neber sells a one. Hur name wuz Erslie Kizar Chartarn."</p> + +<p>"Marse an' missus, mighty kind to us slaves. I lurned to sew, piece +quilts, clean de brass an' irons an' dog irons. Most time I set with de +ol' ladies, an' light deir pipes, an' tote 'em watah, in gourds. I us' +tu gether de turkey eggs an' guinea eggs an' sell 'em. I gits ten cents +duzen fo' de eggs. Marse and Missus wuz English an' de count money like +dis—fo' pence, ha' penny. Whut I do with my money? Chile I saved it to +buy myself a nankeen dress."</p> + +<p>"Yes mam we always had plenty to eat. What'd I like bes' to eat, +waffl's, honey and stuffed sausage, but I spise possum and coon. Marse +Hunt had great big meat hous' chuck full all kinds of meats. Say, do you +all know Marse used to keep stuffed sausage in his smoke hous' fo' yeahs +an' it wuz shure powahful good when it wuz cooked. Ouah kitchin wuz big +an' had great big fiah place whur we'd bake ouah bread in de ashes. We +baked ouah corn pone an' biskets in a big spidah. I still have dat +spidah an' uses it."</p> + +<p>"By the way you knows Squire Gellison wuz sum fishahman an' shure to +goodness ketched lots ob fish. Why he'd ketch so many, he'd clean 'em, +cut 'em up, put 'em in half barrels an' pass 'em 'round to de people on +de farms."</p> + +<p>"Most de slaves on Marse Hunt's place had dir own garden patches. +Sumtimes dey'd have to hoe the gardens by moonlight. Dey sell deir +vegetables to Marse Hunt."</p> + +<p>"In de summah de women weah dresses and apruns made ob linen an' men +weah pants and shurts ob linen. Linsey-woolsey and jean wuz woven on de +place fo' wintah clothes. We had better clothes to weah on Sunday and we +weahed shoes on Sunday. The' shoes and hoots wuz made on de plantashun."</p> + +<p>"My mastah wuz Marse Harley Hunt an' his wife wuz Miss Maria Sanders +Hunt. Marse and Miss Hunt didn't hab no chilluns of der own but a nephew +Marse Oscar Martin and niece Miss Mary Hunt frum Missouri lived with +'em. Dey's all kind to us slaves. De Hous' wuz great big white frame +with picket fence all 'round de lot. When we lived Charl'stun Marse Hunt +wuz a magistrate. Miss Hunt's muthah and two aunts lived with 'em."</p> + +<p>"No mam, we didn't hab no ovahseeah. Marse Hunt had no use fo' +ovahseeahs, fact is he 'spise 'em. De oldah men guided de young ones in +deir labors. The poor white neighbahs wurn't 'lowed to live very close +to de plantashun as Marse Hunt wanted de culured slave chilluns to be +raised in propah mannah."</p> + +<p>"I duzn't know how many acres in de plantashun. Deir wuz only 'bout +three or fo' cabins on de place. Wurk started 'bout seben clock 'cept +harvest time when ebrybudy wuz up early. De slaves didn't wurk so hard +nor bery late at night. Slaves wuz punished by sendin' 'em off to bed +early.</p> + +<p>"When I'se livin' at Red House I seed slaves auctioned off. Ol' Marse +Veneable sold ten or lebin slaves, women and chilluns, to niggah tradahs +way down farthah south. I well 'members day Aunt Millie an' Uncl' Edmund +wuz sold—dir son Harrison wuz bought by Marse Hunt. 'Twuz shure sad an' +folks cried when Aunt Millie and Uncl' Edmund wuz tuk away. Harrison +neber see his mammy an' pappy agin. Slaves wuz hired out by de yeah fo' +nine hundred dollahs."</p> + +<p>"Marse Hunt had schools fo' de slaves chilluns. I went to school on +Lincoln Hill, too."</p> + +<p>"Culured preachahs use to cum to plantashun an' dey would read de Bible +to us. I 'member one special passage preachahs read an' I neber +understood it 'til I cross de riber at Buffinton Island. It wuz, 'But +they shall sit every man under his own vine and under his fig tree; and +none shall make them afraid; for the mouth of the Lord of Hosts hath +spoken it." Micah 4:4. Den I knows it is de fulfillment ob dat promis; +'I would soon be undah my own vine an' fig tree' and hab no feah of +bein' sold down de riber to a mean Marse. I recalls der wuz Thorton +Powell, Ben Sales and Charley Releford among de preachahs. De church wuz +quite aways frum de hous'. When der'd be baptizins de sistahs and +brethruns would sing 'Freely, freely will you go with me, down to the +riber'. 'Freely, freely quench your thirst Zion's sons and daughtahs'."</p> + +<p>"How wells I 'member when I wuz converted. I'd thought 'bout 'ligion a +lot but neber wunce wuz I muved to repent. One day I went out to cut sum +wood an' begin thinkin' agin and all wunce I feeled so relieved an' good +an' run home to tell granny an' de uthahs dat I'd cum out at last."</p> + +<p>"No, we didn't wurk on Saturday aftahnoons. Christmas wuz big time at +Marse Hunts hous'. Preparations wuz made fo' it two weeks fo' day cum. +Der wuz corn sings an' big dances, 'ceptin' at 'ligious homes. Der wuz +no weddins' at Marse Hunts, cause dey had no chilluns an' de niece and +nephew went back to own homes to git married."</p> + +<p>"We played sich games as marbles; yarn ball; hop, skip, an' jump; mumble +peg an' pee wee. Wunce I's asked to speak down to white chilluns school +an' dis is what I speak:</p> + +<pre> +'The cherries are ripe, +The cherries are ripe, +Oh give the baby one, +The baby is too little to chew, +The robin I see up in the tree, +Eating his fill and shaking his bill, +And down his throat they run.' +</pre> + +<p>Another one:</p> + +<pre> +'Tobacco is an Indian weed, +And from the devil doth proceed +It robs the pocket and burns the clothes +And makes a chimney of the nose.' +</pre> + +<p>"When de slaves gits sick, deir mammies luked af'er em but de Marse +gived de rem'dies. Yes, dere wuz dif'runt kinds, salts, pills, Castah +orl, herb teas, garlic, 'fedia, sulphah, whiskey, dog wood bark, +sahsaparilla an' apple root. Sometimes charms wuz used.</p> + +<p>"I 'member very well de day de Yankees cum. De slaves all cum a runnin' +an' yellin': "Yankees is cumin', Yankee soljers is comin', hurrah". Bout +two or three clock, we herd bugles blowing' an' guns on Taylah Ridge. +Kids wuz playin' an' all 'cited. Sumone sed: "Kathrun, sumthin' awful +gwine happen", an' sumone else sez; "De' is de Yankees". De Yankee mens +camp on ouah farm an' buyed ouah buttah, milk an' eggs. Marse Hunt, whut +you all call 'bilionist [HW: abolitionist] an' he wuz skeered of suthern +soljers an' went out to de woods an' laid behind a log fo' seben weeks +and seben days, den he 'cided to go back home. He sez he had a dream an' +prayed, "I had bettah agone, but I prayed. No use let des debils take +you, let God take you." We tote food an' papahs to Marse while he wuz a +hidin'."</p> + +<p>"One ob my prized possessions is Abraham Lincoln's pictures an' I'se +gwine to gib it to a culured young man whose done bin so kind to me, +when I'se gone. Dat's Bookah T. Washington's picture ovah thar."</p> + +<p>"I'se married heah in Middeport by Preachah Bill, 1873. My husban' wuz +Charles Stewart, son of Johnny Stewart. Deir wuz hous' full my own +folks, mammy, pappy, sistahs, bruthas, an' sum white folks who cumed in +to hep dress me up fo' de weddin'. We kep de weddin' a secrut an' my +aunt butted hur horns right off tryin' to fin' out when it wuz. My +husban' had to leave right away to go to his job on de boat. We had +great big dinnah, two big cakes an' ice cream fo' desurt. We had fo'teen +chilluns with only two livin'. I has five gran' sons an' two great gran' +daughters."</p> + +<p>"Goodbye—cum back agin."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="SuttonSamuel"></a> +<h3>Miriam Logan, Lebanon, Ohio<br> +Warren County, Dist. 2<br> +July 2, 1937<br> +<br> +Interview with SAMUEL SUTTON, Ex Slave.<br> +Born in Garrett County, Kentucky, in 1854</h3> + +<p>(drawing of Sutton) [TR: no drawing found]</p> +<br> + +<p>"Yes'em, I sho were bo'n into slavery. Mah mothah were a cook—(they was +none betteah)—an she were sold four times to my knownin'. She were part +white, for her fathah were a white man. She live to be seventy-nine +yeahs an nine months old."</p> + +<p>"Ah was bo'n in Garrett County, but were raised by ol' Marster Ballinger +in Knox County, an' ah don remember nothin 'bout Garrett County." When +Lincoln was elected last time, I were about eight yeahs ol'."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Marster own 'bout 400-acres, n' ah don' know how many slaves—maybe +30. He'd get hard up fo money n' sell one or two; then he'd get a lotta +work on hands, an maybe buy one or two cheap,—go 'long lak dat you +see." He were a good man, Ol' Mars Ballinger were—a preacher, an he wuk +hisse'f too. Ol' Mis' she pretty cross sometime, but ol' Mars, he +weren't no mean man, an ah don' 'member he evah whip us. Yes'em dat ol' +hous is still standin' on the Lexington-Lancaster Pike, and las time I +know, Baby Marster he were still livin."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Mars. tuk us boys out to learn to wuk when we was both right little +me and Baby Mars. Ah wuz to he'p him, an do what he tol' me to—an first +thing ah members is a learnin to hoe de clods. Corn an wheat Ol' Mars. +raised, an he sets us boys out fo to learn to wuk. Soon as he lef' us +Baby Mars, he'd want to eat; send me ovah to de grocery fo sardines an' +oysters. Nevah see no body lak oyster lak he do! Ah do n' lak dem. Ol +Mars. scold him—say he not only lazy hese'f, but he make me lazy too."</p> + +<p>"De Wah? Yes'em ah sees soldiers, Union Calvary [HW: Cavalry] goin' by, +dressed fine, wid gold braid on blue, an big boots. But de Rebels now, I +recollect dey had no uniforms fo dey wuz hard up, an dey cum in jes +common clothes. Ol' Mars., he were a Rebel, an he always he'p 'em. +Yes'em a pitched battle start right on our place. Didn't las' long, fo +dey wuz a runnin fight on to Perryville, whaah de one big battle to take +place in de State o' Kentucky, tuk place."</p> + +<p>"Most likely story I remembers to tell you 'bout were somepin made me +mad an I allus remember fo' dat. Ah had de bigges' fines' watermellon an +ah wuz told to set up on de fence wid de watermellon an show 'em, and +sell 'em fo twenty cents. Along cum a line o' soldiers."</p> + +<p>"Heigh there boy!... How much for the mellon?" holler one at me.</p> + +<p>"Twenty cents sir!" Ah say jes lak ah ben tol' to say; and he take dat +mellon right out o' mah arms an' ride off widout payin' me. Ah run after +dem, a tryin' to get mah money, but ah couldn't keep up wid dem soldiers +on hosses; an all de soldiers jes' laf at me."</p> + +<p>"Yes'em dat wuz de fines' big mellon ah evah see. Dat wuz right mean in +him—fine lookin gemman he were, at the head o' de line."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Marster Ballinger, he were a Rebel, an he harbors Rebels. Dey wuz +two men a hangin' around dere name o' Buell and Bragg."</p> + +<p>"Buell were a nawtherner; Bragg, he were a Reb."</p> + +<p>"Buell give Bragg a chance to get away, when he should have found out +what de Rebs were doin' an a tuk him prisoner ah heard tell about dat."</p> + +<p>"Dey wuz a lotta spyin', ridin' around dere fo' one thing and another, +but ah don' know what it were all about. I does know ah feels sorry fo +dem Rebel soldiers ah seen dat wuz ragged an tired, an all woe out, an +Mars. He fell pretty bad about everything sometimes, but ah reckon dey +wuz mean Rebs an southerners at had it all cumin' to em; ah allus heard +tell dey had it comin' to em."</p> + +<p>"Some ways I recollect times wuz lots harder after de War, some ways dey +was better. But now a culled man ain't so much better off 'bout votin' +an such some places yet, ah hears dat."</p> + +<p>"Yes'em, they come an want hosses once in awhile, an they was a rarin' +tarin' time atryin to catch them hosses fo they would run into the woods +befo' you could get ahold of 'em. Morgan's men come fo hosses once, an +ol Mars, get him's hosses, fo he were a Reb. Yes'em, but ah thinks them +hosses got away from the Rebels; seem lak ah heard they did."</p> + +<p>"Hosses? Ah wishes ah had me a team right now, and ah'd make me my own +good livin! No'em, don't want no mule. They is set on havin they own +way, an the contrariest critters! But a mule is a wuk animal, an eats +little. Lotsa wuk in a mule. Mah boy, he say, 'quit wukin, an give us +younguns a chance,' Sho nuf, they ain't the wuk they use to be, an the +younguns needs it. Ah got me a pension, an a fine garden; ain't it fine +now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes'em, lak ah tells you, the wah were ovah, and the culled folks had a +Big Time wid speakin'n everything ovah at Dick Robinsen's camp on de +4th. Nevah see such rejoicin on de Fourth 'o July since,-no'em, ah +ain't."</p> + +<p>"Ah seen two presidents, Grant an Hayes. I voted fo Hayes wen I wuz +twenty-two yeahs old. General Grant, he were runnin against Greeley when +ah heard him speak at Louieville. He tol what all Lincoln had done fo de +culled man. Yes'em, fine lookin man he were, an he wore a fine suit. +Yes'em ah ain't miss an election since ah were twenty-two an vote fo +Hayes. Ah ain't gonto miss none, an ah vote lak the white man read outa +de Emanicaption Proclamation, ah votes fo one ob Abe Lincoln's men ev'y +time—ah sho do."</p> + +<p>"<u>Run a way slaves?</u> No'em nevah know ed of any. Mars. Ballinger +neighbor, old Mars. Tye—he harbor culled folks dat cum ask fo sumpin to +eat in winter—n' he get 'em to stay awhile and do a little wuk fo him. +Now, he did always have one or two 'roun dere dat way,—dat ah +recollects—dat he didn't own. Maybe dey was runaway, maybe dey wuz just +tramps an didn't belong to noboddy. Nevah hear o' anybody claimin' +dem—dey stay awhile an wuk, den move on—den mo' cum, wuk while then +move on. Mars. Tye—he get his wuk done dat way, cheap.</p> + +<p>"No'em, don't believe in anything lak dat much. We use to sprinkle salt +in a thin line 'roun Mars. Ballinger's house, clear 'roun, to ward off +quarellin an arguein' an ol' Miss Ballinger gettin a cross spell,—dat +ah members, an then too;—ah don believe in payin out money on a Monday. +You is liable to be a spendin an a losin' all week if you do. Den ah +don' want see de new moon (nor ol' moon either) through, de branches o' +trees. Ah know' a man dat see de moon tru de tree branches, an he were +lookin' tru de bars 'a jail fo de month were out—an fo sumpin he nevah +done either,—jus enuf bad luck—seein a moon through bush."</p> + +<p>"Ah been married twice, an had three chillens. Mah oles' are Madge +Hannah, an she sixty yeah ol' an still a teachin' at the Indian School +where she been fo twenty-two yeahs now. She were trained at Berea in +High School then Knoxville; then she get mo' learnin in Nashville in +some course."</p> + +<p>"Mah wife died way back yonder in 1884. Then when ah gets married again, +mah wife am 32 when ah am 63. No'am, no mo' chillens. Ah lives heah an +farms, an takes care ob mah sick girl, an mah boy, he live across the +lane thah."</p> + +<p>"No'em, no church, no meetin hous fo us culled people in Kentucky befo' +de wah. Dey wuz prayin folks, and gets to meetin' at each othah's houses +when dey is sumpin a pushin' fo prayer. No'em no school dem days, fo +us." "Ol Mars., he were a preacher, he knowed de Bible, an tells out +verses fo us—dats all ah members. Yes'em Ah am Baptist now, and ah sho +do believe in a havin church."</p> + +<p>"Ah has wuked on steam boats, an done railroad labor, an done a lotta +farmin, an ah likes to farm best. Like to live in Ohio best. Ah can +<u>vote</u>. If ah gits into trouble, de law give us a chance fo our +property, same as if we were white. An we can vote lak white, widout no +shootin, no fightin' about it—dats what ah likes. Nevah know white men +to be so mean about anythin as dey is about votin some places—No'em, ah +don't! Ah come heah in 1912. Ah was goin on to see mah daughter Madge +Hannah in Oklahoma, den dis girl come to me paralized, an ah got me work +heah in Lebanon, tendin cows an such at de creamery, an heah ah is evah +since. Yes'em an ah don' wanto go no wheres else."</p> + +<p>"No'em, no huntin' no mo. Useto hunt rabbit until las yeah. They ain't +wuth the price ob a license no mo." No'em, ah ain't evah fished in +Ohio."</p> + +<p>"No'em, nevah wuz no singer, no time. Not on steamboats, nor nowheres. +Don't member any songs, except maybe the holler we useto set up when dey +wuz late wid de dinner when we wuked on de steamboat;—Dey sing-song lak +dis:"</p> + +<pre> +'Ol hen, she flew +Ovah de ga-rden gate, +Fo' she wuz dat hungrey +She jes' couldn't wait.' +</pre> + +<p>—but den dat ain't no real song."</p> + +<p>"Kentucky river is place to fish—big cat fish. Cat fish an greens is +good eatin. Ah seen a cat fish cum outa de Kentucky river 'lon as a man +is tall; an them ol' fins slap mah laig when ah carries him ovah mah +shoulder, an he tail draggin' on mah feet.—Sho nuf!"</p> + +<p>"No'em, ah jes cain't tell you all no cryin sad story 'bout beatin' an a +slave drivin, an ah don' know no ghost stories, ner nuthin'—ah is jes +dumb dat way—ah's sorry 'bout it, but ah Jes—is."</p> + +<p>Samuel Sutton lives in north lane Lebanon, just back of the French +Creamery. He has one acre of land, a little unpainted, poorly furnished +and poorly kept. His daughter is a huge fleshy colored woman wears a +turban on her head. She has a fixed smile; says not a word. Samuel talks +easily; answers questions directly; is quick in his movements. He is +stooped and may 5'7" or 8" if standing straight. He wears an old +fashioned "Walrus" mustache, and has a grey wooley fringe of hair about +his smooth chocolate colored bald head. He is very dark in color, but +his son is darker yet. His hearing is good. His sight very poor. Being +so young when the Civil War was over, he remembers little or nothing +about what the colored people thought or expected from freedom. He just +remembers what a big time there was on that first "Free Fourth of July."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="TolerRichard"></a> +<h3>Ruth Thompson, Interviewing<br> +Graff, Editing<br> +<br> +Ex-Slave Interviews<br> +Hamilton Co., District 12<br> +Cincinnati<br> +<br> +RICHARD TOLER<br> +515 Poplar St.,<br> +Cincinnati, O.</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_RT"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/rtoler.jpg' width='240' height='306' alt='Richard Toler'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>"Ah never fit in de wah; no suh, ah couldn't. Mah belly's been broke! +But ah sho' did want to, and ah went up to be examined, but they didn't +receive me on account of mah broken stomach. But ah sho' tried, 'cause +ah wanted to be free. Ah didn't like to be no slave. Dat wasn't good +times."</p> + +<p>Richard Toler, 515 Poplar Street, century old former slave lifted a bony +knee with one gnarled hand and crossed his legs, then smoothed his thick +white beard. His rocking chair creaked, the flies droned, and through +the open, unscreened door came the bawling of a calf from the building +of a hide company across the street. A maltese kitten sauntered into the +front room, which served as parlor and bedroom, and climbed complacently +into his lap. In one corner a wooden bed was piled high with feather +ticks, and bedecked with a crazy quilt and an number of small, +brightly-colored pillows; a bureau opposite was laden to the edges with +a collection of odds and ends—a one-legged alarm clock, a coal oil +lamp, faded aritifical flowers in a gaudy vase, a pile of newspapers. A +trunk against the wall was littered with several large books (one of +which was the family Bible), a stack of dusty lamp shades, a dingy +sweater, and several bushel-basket lids. Several packing cases and +crates, a lard can full of cracked ice, a small, round oil heating +stove, and an assorted lot of chairs completed the furnishings. The one +decorative spot in the room was on the wall over the bed, where hung a +large framed picture of Christ in The Temple. The two rooms beyond +exhibited various broken-down additions to the heterogeneous collection.</p> + +<p>"Ah never had no good times till ah was free", the old man continued. +"Ah was bo'n on Mastah Tolah's (Henry Toler) plantation down in ole +V'ginia, near Lynchburg in Campbell County. Mah pappy was a slave befo' +me, and mah mammy, too. His name was Gawge Washin'ton Tolah, and her'n +was Lucy Tolah. We took ouah name from ouah ownah, and we lived in a +cabin way back of the big house, me and mah pappy and mammy and two +brothahs.</p> + +<p>"They nevah mistreated me, neithah. They's a whipping the slaves all the +time, but ah run away all the time. And ah jus' tell them—if they +whipped me, ah'd kill 'em, and ah nevah did get a whippin'. If ah +thought one was comin' to me, Ah'd hide in the woods; then they'd send +aftah me, and they say, 'Come, on back—we won't whip you'. But they +killed some of the niggahs, whipped 'em to death. Ah guess they killed +three or fo' on Tolah's place while ah was there.</p> + +<p>"Ah nevah went to school. Learned to read and write mah name after ah +was free in night school, but they nevah allowed us to have a book in +ouah hand, and we couldn't have no money neither. If we had money we had +to tu'n it ovah to ouah ownah. Chu'ch was not allowed in ouah pa't +neithah. Ah go to the Meth'dist Chu'ch now, everybody ought to go. I +think RELIGION MUST BE FINE, 'CAUSE GOD ALMIGHTY'S AT THE HEAD OF IT."</p> + +<p>Toler took a small piece of ice from the lard can, popped it between his +toothless gum, smacking enjoyment, swished at the swarming flies with a +soiled rag handkerchief, and continued.</p> + +<p>"Ah nevah could unnerstand about ghos'es. Nevah did see one. Lots of +folks tell about seein' ghos'es, but ah nevah feared 'em. Ah was nevah +raised up undah such supastitious believin's.</p> + +<p>"We was nevah allowed no pa'ties, and when they had goin' ons at the big +house, we had to clear out. Ah had to wo'k hard all the time every day +in the week. Had to min' the cows and calves, and when ah got older ah +had to hoe in the field. Mastah Tolah had about 500 acres, so they tell +me, and he had a lot of cows and ho'ses and oxens, and he was a big +fa'mer. Ah've done about evahthing in mah life, blacksmith and stone +mason, ca'penter, evahthing but brick-layin'. Ah was a blacksmith heah +fo' 36 yea's. Learned it down at Tolah's.</p> + +<p>"Ah stayed on the plantation during the wah, and jes' did what they tol' +me. Ah was 21 then. And ah walked 50 mile to vote for Gen'l Grant at +Vaughn's precinct. Ah voted fo' him in two sessions, he run twice. And +ah was 21 the fust time, cause they come and got me, and say, 'Come on +now. You can vote now, you is 21.' And theah now—mah age is right +theah. 'Bout as close as you can get it.</p> + +<p>"Ah was close to the battle front, and I seen all dem famous men. Seen +Gen'l Lee, and Grant, and Abe Lincoln. Seen John Brown, and seen the +seven men that was hung with him, but we wasn't allowed to talk to any +of 'em, jes' looked on in the crowd. Jes' spoke, and say 'How d' do.'</p> + +<p>[HW: Harper's Ferry is not [TR: rest illegible]]</p> + +<p>"But ah did talk to Lincoln, and ah tol' him ah wanted to be free, and +he was a fine man, 'cause he made us all free. And ah got a ole histry, +it's the Sanford American History, and was published in +<u>17</u>84[HW:18?]. But ah don't know where it is now, ah misplaced it. +It is printed in the book, something ah said, not written by hand. And +it says, 'Ah am a ole slave which has suvved fo' 21 yeahs, and ah would +be quite pleased if you could help us to be free. We thank you very +much. Ah trust that some day ah can do you the same privilege that you +are doing for me. Ah have been a slave for many years.' (Note +discrepancy).</p> + +<p>"Aftah the wah, ah came to Cincinnati, and ah was married three times. +Mah fust wife was Nannie. Then there was Mollie. They both died, and +than ah was married Cora heah, and ah had six child'en, one girl and fo' +boys. (Note discrepancy) They's two living yet; James is 70 and he is +not married. And Bob's about thutty or fo'ty. Ah done lost al mah +rememb'ance, too ole now. But Mollie died when he was bo'n, and he is +crazy. He is out of Longview (Home for Mentally Infirm) now fo' a while, +and he jes' wanders around, and wo'ks a little. He's not [TR: "not" is +crossed out] ha'mless, he wouldn't hurt nobody. He ain't married +neithah.</p> + +<p>"After the wah, ah bought a fiddle, and ah was a good fiddlah. Used to +be a fiddlah fo' the white girls to dance. Jes' picked it up, it was a +natural gif'. Ah could still play if ah had a fiddle. Ah used to play at +our hoe downs, too. Played all those ole time songs—<u>Soldier's +Joy</u>, <u>Jimmy Long Josey</u>, <u>Arkansas Traveler</u>, and <u>Black +Eye Susie</u>. Ah remembah the wo'ds to that one."</p> + +<p>Smiling inwardly with pleasure as he again lived the past, the old Negro +swayed and recited:</p> + +<pre> +Black Eye Susie, you look so fine, +Black Eye Susie, ah think youah mine. +A wondahful time we're having now, +Oh, Black Eye Susie, ah believe that youah mine. + +And away down we stomp aroun' the bush, +We'd think that we'd get back to wheah we could push +Black Eye Susie, ah think youah fine, +Black Eye Susie, Ah know youah mine. +</pre> + +<p>Then, he resumed his conversational tone:</p> + +<p>"Befo' the wah we nevah had no good times. They took good care of us, +though. As pa'taculah with slaves as with the stock—that was their +money, you know. And if we claimed a bein' sick, they'd give us a dose +of castah oil and tu'pentine. That was the principal medicine cullud +folks had to take, and sometimes salts. But nevah no whiskey—that was +not allowed. And if we was real sick, they had the Doctah fo' us.</p> + +<p>"We had very bad eatin'. Bread, meat, water. And they fed it to us in a +trough, jes' like the hogs. And ah went in may shirt tail till I was 16, +nevah had no clothes. And the flo' in ouah cabin was dirt, and at night +we'd jes' take a blanket and lay down on the flo'. The dog was supe'ior +to us; they would take him in the house.</p> + +<p>"Some of the people I belonged to was in the Klu Klux Klan. Tolah had +fo' girls and fo' boys. Some of those boys belonged. And I used to see +them turn out. They went aroun' whippin' niggahs. They'd get young girls +and strip 'em sta'k naked, and put 'em across barrels, and whip 'em till +the blood run out of 'em, and then they would put salt in the raw pahts. +And ah seen it, and it was as bloody aroun' em as if they'd stuck hogs.</p> + +<p>"I sho' is glad I ain't no slave no moah. Ah thank God that ah lived to +pas the yeahs until the day of 1937. Ah'm happy and satisfied now, and +ah hopes ah see a million yeahs to come."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="WilliamsJulia"></a> +<h3>Forest H. Lees<br> +C.R. McLean, Supervisor<br> +June 10, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Folkways<br> +Medina County, District #5<br> +<br> +JULIA WILLIAMS, ex-slave</h3> +<br> + +<p>Julia Williams, born in Winepark, Chesterfield County near Richmond, +Virginia. Her age is estimated close to 100 years. A little more or a +little less, it is not known for sure.</p> + +<p>Her memory is becoming faded. She could remember her mothers name was +Katharine but her father died when she was very small and she remembers +not his name.</p> + +<p>Julia had three sisters, Charlotte, Rose and Emoline Mack. The last +names of the first two, Charlotte and Rose she could not recall.</p> + +<p>As her memory is becoming faded, her thoughts wander from one thing to +another and her speech is not very plain, the following is what I heard +and understood during the interview.</p> + +<p>"All de slaves work with neighbors; or like neighbors now-adays. I no +work in de fiel, I slave in de house, maid to de mistress."</p> + +<p>"After Yankees come, one sister came to Ohio with me."</p> + +<p>"The slaves get a whippin if they run away."</p> + +<p>"After Yankees come, my ole mother come home and all chillun together. I +live with gramma and go home after work each day. Hired out doin maid +work. All dis after Yankees come dat I live with gramma."</p> + +<p>"Someone yell, 'Yankees are comin',' and de mistress tell me, she say +'You mus learn to be good and hones'.' I tole her, 'I am now'."</p> + +<p>"No I nevah get no money foh work."</p> + +<p>"I allways had good meals and was well taken care of. De Mrs. she nevah +let me be sold."</p> + +<p>"Sho we had a cook in de kichen and she was a slave too."</p> + +<p>"Plantashun slaves had gahdens but not de house slaves. I allus had da +bes clothes and bes meals, anyting I want to eat. De Mrs. like me and +she like me and she say effen you want sompin ask foh it, anytime you +want sompin or haff to have, get it. I didn suffer for enythin befoh dim +Yankees come."</p> + +<p>"After de Yankees come even de house people, de white people didn get +shoes. But I hab some, I save. I have some othah shoes I didn dare go in +de house with. Da had wood soles. Oh Lawde how da hurt mah feet. One day +I come down stair too fas and slip an fall. Right den I tile de Mrs. I +couldn wear dem big heavy shoes and besides da makes mah feet so sore."</p> + +<p>"Bof de Mrs. and de Master sickly. An their chillun died. Da live in a +big manshun house. Sho we had an overseer on de plantashun. De poor +white people da live purty good, all dat I seed. It was a big +plantashun. I can't remember how big but I know dat it was sho big. Da +had lots an lots of slaves but I doan no zackly how many. Da scattered +around de plantashun in diffren settlements. De horn blew every mohnin +to wake up de fiel hans. Da gone to fiel long time foh I get up. De fiel +hans work from dawn till dark, but evabody had good eats on holidays. No +work jus eat and have good time."</p> + +<p>"Da whipp dem slaves what run away."</p> + +<p>"One day after de war was over and I come to Ohio, a man stop at mah +house. I seem him and I know him too but I preten like I didn, so I say, +'I doan want ter buy nothin today' and he says 'Doan you know me?' Den I +laugh an say sho I remember the day you wuz goin to whip me, you run +affer me and I run to de Mrs. and she wouldn let you whip me. Now you +bettah be careful or I get you."</p> + +<p>"Sho I saw slaves sole. Da come from all ovah to buy an sell de slaves, +chillun to ole men and women."</p> + +<p>"De slaves walk and travel with carts and mules."</p> + +<p>"De slaves on aukshun block dey went to highes bidder. One colored +woman, all de men want her. She sold to de master who was de highes +bidder, and den I saw her comin down de road singin 'I done got a home +at las!'. She was half crazy. De maste he sole her and den Mrs. buy her +back. They lef her work around de house. I used to make her work and +make her shine things. She say I make her shine too much, but she haff +crazy, an run away."</p> + +<p>"No dey didn help colored folks read and write. Effn dey saw you wif a +book dey knock it down on de floor. Dey wouldn let dem learn."</p> + +<p>"De aukshun allus held at Richmond. Plantashun owners come from all +states to buy slaves and sell them."</p> + +<p>"We had church an had to be dere every single Sunday. We read de Bible. +De preacher did the readin. I can't read or write. We sho had good +prayer meetins. Show nuf it was a Baptis church. I like any spiritual, +all of dem."</p> + +<p>"Dey batize all de young men and women, colored folks. Dey sing mos any +spirtual, none in paticlar. A bell toll foh a funeral. At de baptizen do +de pracher leads dem into de rivah, way in, den each one he stick dem +clear under. I waz gonna be batize and couldn. Eva time sompin happin an +I couldn. My ole mothah tole me I gotta be but I never did be baptize +when Ise young in de south. De othah people befoh me all batized."</p> + +<p>"A lot of de slaves come north. Dey run away cause dey didn want to be +slaves, like I didn like what you do and I get mad, den you get mad an I +run away."</p> + +<p>"De pattyroller was a man who watched foh de slaves what try to run +away. I see dem sneakin in an out dem bushes. When dey fine im de give +im a good whippin."</p> + +<p>"I nevah seed mush trouble between de whites and blacks when I live +dare. Effen dey didn want you to get married, they wouldn let you. Dey +had to ask de mastah and if he say no he mean it."</p> + +<p>"When de Yankees were a comin through dem fiels, dey sho was awful. Dey +take everythin and destroy what ever they could not take. De othah house +slave bury the valables in de groun so de soldiers couldn fine em."</p> + +<p>"One of the house slaves was allus havin her man comin to see her, so +one day affer he lef, when I was makin fun and laughin at her de +mistress she say, 'Why you picken on her?' I say, dat man comin here all +the time hangin round, why doan he marry her."</p> + +<p>"I was nevah lowed to go out an soshiate with de othah slaves much. I +was in de house all time."</p> + +<p>"I went to prayer meetins every Sunday monin and evenin."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes dey could have a good time in de evenin and sometimes day +couldn."</p> + +<p>"Chrismas was a big time for everyone. In the manshun we allus had roast +pig and a big feed. I could have anythin I want. New Years was the big +aukshun day. All day hollerin on de block. Dey come from all ovah to +Richmond to buy and sell de slaves."</p> + +<p>"Butchern day sho was a big time. A big long table with de pigs laid out +ready to be cut up."</p> + +<p>"Lots of big parties an dances in de manshun. I nevah have time foh +play. Mrs, she keep me busy and I work when I jus little girl and all +mah life."</p> + +<p>"Effen any slaves were sick dey come to de house for splies and medsin. +De Mrs. and Master had de doctor if things were very bad."</p> + +<p>"I'll nevah forget de soldiers comin. An old woman tole me de war done +broke up, and I was settin on de porch. De Mrs. she say, 'Julia you ant +stayin eneymore'. She tole me if I keep my money and save it she would +give me some. An she done gave me a gold breast pin too. She was rich +and had lots of money. After the war I wen home to my mother. She was +half sick and she work too hard. On de way I met one slave woman who +didn know she was even free."</p> + +<p>"The Yankees were bad!"</p> + +<p>"I didn get married right away. I worked out foh diffren famlies."</p> + +<p>"After de war dare was good schools in de south. De free slaves had land +effen dey knowed what to do with. I got married in the south to Richar +Williams but I didn have no big weddin. I had an old preacher what +knowed all bout de Bible, who married me. He was a good preacher. I was +de mothah of eight chillun."</p> + +<p>"Lincoln? Well I tell you I doan know. I didn have no thought about him +but I seed him. I work in de house all de time and didn hear much about +people outside."</p> + +<p>"I doan believe in ghosts or hants. As foh dancin I enjoy it when I was +young."</p> + +<p>"I cant read and I thought to myself I thought there was a change comin. +I sense that. I think de Lawd he does everythin right. De Lawd open my +way. I think all people should be religious and know about de Lawd and +his ways."</p> + +<p>Her husband came to Wadsworth with the first group that came from +Doylestown. The men came first then they sent for their families. Her +husband came first them sent for her and the children. They settled in +Wadsworth and built small shacks then later as times got better they +bought properties.</p> + +<p>This year is the 57th Anniversary of the Wadsworth Colored Baptist +Church of which Julia Williams was a charter member. She is very close +to 100 years old if not that now and lives at 160 Kyle Street, +Wadsworth, Ohio.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="WilliamsJulia2"></a> +<h3>Lees<br> +Ohio Guide, Special<br> +Ex-Slave Stories<br> +August 17, 1937<br> +<br> +JULIA WILLIAMS<br> +(Supplementary Story)</h3> +<br> + +<p>"After de War deh had to pick their own livin' an seek homes.</p> + +<p>"Shuah, deh expected de 40 acres of lan' an mules, but deh had to work +foh dem."</p> + +<p>"Shuah, deh got paht of de lan but de shuah had to work foh it.</p> + +<p>"After de war deh had no place to stay an den deh went to so many +diffrunt places. Some of dem today don't have settled places to live.</p> + +<p>"Those owners who were good gave their slaves lan but de othahs jus +turned de slaves loose to wander roun'. Othahs try to fine out where +dere people were and went to them.</p> + +<p>"One day I seed a man who was a doctor down dere, an' I says, 'You +doktah now?' An says 'No, I doan doktah no mow.' I work foh him once +when I was slave, few days durin de war. I say, 'Member that day you +gonna lick me but you didn', you know I big woman an fight back. Now de +war ovah and you can't do dat now'.</p> + +<p>"Slaves didn get money unless deh work for it. Maybe a slave he would +work long time before he get eny pay."</p> + +<p>"Lak you hire me an you say you goin to pay me an then you don't. Lots +of them hired slaves aftah de war and worked dem a long time sayin deh +gwine pay and then when he ask for money, deh drive him away instead of +payin him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, some of de slaves were force to stay on de plantation. I see how +some had to live." "They had homes for awhile but when deh wasen't able +to pay dere rent cause deh weren't paid, deh were thrown out of dere +houses." Some of dem didn't know when deh were free till long time after +de Wah.</p> + +<p>"When I were free, one mornin I seed the mistress and she ask me would I +stay with her a couple years. I say, 'No I gonna find mah people an go +dere.'</p> + +<p>"Anyway, she had a young mister, a son, an he was mean to de slaves. I +nebber lak him.</p> + +<p>"Once I was sent to mah missys' brother for a time but I wouldn' stay +dere: he too rough.</p> + +<p>"No, deh didn't want you to learn out of books. My missy say one day +when I was free, 'Now you can get your lessons.'</p> + +<p>"I allus lowed to do what I wanted, take what I wanted, and eat what I +wanted. Deh had lots of money but what good did it do them? Deh allus +was sick.</p> + +<p>"De poor soldiers had lots to go thru, even after de wah. Deh starvin +and beggin and sick.</p> + +<p>"De slaves had more meetins and gatherins aftah de war.</p> + +<p>"On de plantation where I work dey had a great big horn blow every +mornin to get de slaves up to de field, I allus get up soon after it +blew, most allways, but this mornin dey blew de horn a long time an I +says, 'what foh dey blow dat horn so long?' an den de mastah say, 'You +all is free'. Den he says, ter me, 'What you all goin to do now', and I +says, 'I'm goin to fine my mother.'</p> + +<p>"One day a soldier stop me an says, 'Sister, where do you live?' I tole +him, den he says, 'I'm hungry.' So I went an got him sompin to eat.</p> + +<p>"One time I was to be sold de next day, but de missy tole the man who +cried the block not to sell me, but deh sold my mother and I didn't see +her after dat till just befoh de war ovah.</p> + +<p>"All dat de slaves got after de war was loaned dem and dey had to work +mighty hard to pay for dem. I saw a lot of poor people cut off from +votin and dey off right now, I guess. I doan like it dat de woman vote. +A woman ain't got no right votin, nowhow.</p> + +<p>"Most of de slaves get pensions and are taken care of by their chillun."</p> + +<p>"Ah doan know about de generation today, just suit yourself bout dat."</p> + +<p>Julia Williams resides at 150 Kyle St., Wadsworth, Ohio.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="WilliamsReverend"></a> +<h3>Miriam Logan<br> +Lebanon, Ohio<br> +July 8th<br> +<br> +Warren County, District 2<br> +<br> +Story of REVEREND WILLIAMS, Aged 76,<br> +Colored Methodist Minister,<br> +Born Greenbriar County, West Virginia (Born 1859)</h3> +<br> + +<p>"I was born on the estate of Miss Frances Cree, my mother's mistress. +She had set my grandmother Delilah free with her sixteen children, so my +mother was free when I was born, but my father was not.</p> + +<p>"My father was butler to General Davis, nephew of Jefferson Davis. +General Davis was wounded in the Civil War and came home to die. My +father, Allen Williams was not free until the Emancipation."</p> + +<p>"Grandmother Delilah belonged to Dr. Cree. Upon his death and the +division of his estate, his maiden daughter came into possession of my +grandmother, you understand. Miss Frances nor her brother Mr. Cam. ever +married. Miss Frances was very religious, a Methodist, and she believed +Grandmother Delilah should be free, and that we colored children should +have schooling."</p> + +<p>"Yes ma'm, we colored people had a church down there in West Virginia, +and grandmother Delilah had a family Bible of her own. She had fourteen +boys and two girls. My mother had sixteen children, two boys, fourteen +girls. Of them—mother's children, you understand,—there were seven +teachers and two ministers; all were educated—thanks to Miss Frances +and to Miss Sands of Gallipolice. Mother lived to be ninety-seven years +old. No, she was not a cook."</p> + +<p>"In the south, you understand—there is the COLORED M.E. CHURCH, and the +AFRICAN M.E. CHURCH, and the SOUTHERN METHODIST, and METHODIST EPISCOPAL +CHURCHES of the white people. They say there will be UNION METHODIST of +both white and colored people, but I don't believe there will be, for +there is a great difference in beliefs, even today. SOUTHERN METHODIST +do believe, do believe in slavery; while the Methodist to which Miss +Frances Cree belonged did not believe in slavery. The Davis family, (one +of the finest) did believe in slavery and they were good southern +Methodist. Mr. Cam., Miss Frances brother was not so opposed to slavery +as was Miss Frances. Miss Frances willed us to the care of her good +Methodist friend Miss Eliza Sands of Ohio."</p> + +<p>"Culture loosens predijuce. I do not believe in social equality at all +myself; it cannot be; but we all must learn to keep to our own road, and +bear Christian good will towards each other."</p> + +<p>"I do not know of any colored people who are any more superstitious than +are white people. They have the advantages of education now equally and +are about on the same level. Of course illiterate whites and the +illiterate colored man are apt to believe in charms. I do not remember +of hearing of any particular superstitious among my church people that I +could tell you about, no ma'm, I do not."</p> + +<p>"In church music I hold that the good old hymns of John and of Charles +Wesley are the best to be had. I don' like shouting 'Spirituals' +show-off and carrying on—never did encourage it! Inward Grace will come +out in your singing more than anything else you do, and the impression +we carry away from your song and, from the singer are what I count." +Read well, sing correctly, but first, last, remember real inward Grace +is what shows forth the most in a song."</p> + +<p>"In New Oreleans where I went to school,—(graduated in 1887 from the +Freedman's Aid College)—there were 14 or 15 colored churches +(methodist) in my youth. New Oreleans is one third colored in +population, you understand. Some places in the south the colored +outnumber the whites 30 to 1.</p> + +<p>"I pastored St. Paul's church in Louieville, a church of close to 3,000 +members. No'ma'm can't say just how old a church it is."</p> + +<p>"To live a consecrated life, you'd better leave off dancing, drinking +smoking and the movies. I've never been to a movie in my life. When I +hear some of the programs colored folks put on the radio sometimes I +feel just like going out to the woodshed and getting my axe and chopping +up the radio, I do! It's natural and graceful to dance, but it is not +natural or good to mill around in a low-minded smoky dance hall."</p> + +<p>"I don't hold it right to put anybody out of church, no ma'm. No matter +what they do, I don't believe in putting anybody out of church."</p> + +<p>"My mother and her children were sent to Miss Eliza Sands at Gallipolis, +Ohio after Miss Frances Cree's death, at Miss Frances' request. Father +did not go, no ma'm. He came later and finished his days with us."</p> + +<p>"We went first to Point Pleasant, then up the river to Gallipolis."</p> + +<p>"After we got there we went to school. A man got me a place in +Cincinnati when I was twelve years old. I blacked boots and ran errands +of the hotel office until I was thirteen; then I went to the FREEDMAN'S +AID COLLEGE in N' Orleans; remained until I graduated. Shoemaking and +carpentering were given to me for trades, but as young fellow I shipped +on a freighter plying between New Orleans and Liverpool, thinking I +would like to be a seaman. I was a mean tempered boy. As cook's helper +one day, I got mad at the boatswain,—threw a pan of hot grease on him."</p> + +<p>The crew wanted me put into irons, but the captain said 'no,—leave him +in Liverpool soon as we land—in about a day or two. When I landed there +they left me to be deported back to the States according to law."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I had an aunt live to be 112 years old. She died at Granville +(Ohio) some thirty years ago. We know her age from a paper on Dr. Cree's +estate where she was listed as a child of twelve, and that had been one +hundred years before."</p> + +<p>"About the music now,—you see I'm used to thinking of religion as the +working out of life in good deeds, not just a singing-show-off kind."</p> + +<p>Some of the Spirituals are fine, but still I think Wesley hymns are +best. I tell my folks that the good Lord isn't a deaf old gentleman that +has to be shouted up to, or amused. I do think we colored people are a +little too apt to want to show off in our singing sometimes."</p> + +<p>"I was very small when we went away from Greenbriar County to Point +Pleasant, and from there to Gallipolis by wagon. I do remember Mr. Cam. +Cree. I was taring around the front lawn where he didn't want me; he was +cross. I remember somebody taking me around the house, and thats +all,-all that I can remember of the old Virginia home where my folks had +belonged for several generations."</p> + +<p>"I've pastored large churches in Louisville and St. Louis. In Ohio I +have been at Glendale, and at Oxford,—other places. This old place was +for sale on the court house steps one day when I happened to be in +Lebanon. Five acres, yes ma'm. There's the corner stone with 1822—age +of the house. My sight is poor, can't read, so I do not try to preach +much anymore, but I help in church in any way that I am needed, keep +busy and happy always! I am able to garden and enjoy life every day. +Certainly my life has been a fortunate one in my mother's belonging to +Miss Frances Cree. I have been a minister some forty years. I graduated +from Wilberforce College."</p> + +<p>This colored minister has a five acre plot of ground and an old brick +house located at the corporation line of the village of Lebanon. He is a +medium sized man. Talks very fast. A writer could turn in about 40 pages +on an interview with him, but he is very much in earnest about his +beliefs. He seems to be rather nervous and has very poor sight. His wife +is yellow in color, and has a decidedly oriental cast of face. She is as +silent, as he is talkative, and from general appearances of her home +she is a very neat housekeeper. Neither of them speak in dialect at all. +Wade Glenn does not speak in dialect, although he is from North +Carolina.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="WilliamsWilliam"></a> +<h3>Ex-Slaves<br> +Stark County, District 5<br> +Aug 13, 1937<br> +<br> +WILLIAM WILLIAMS, Ex-Slave</h3> +<br> + +<p>Interview with William Williams, 1227 Rex Ave. S.E. Canton, O.</p> + +<p>"I was born a slave in Caswell County, North Carolina, April 14, 1857. +My mother's name was Sarah Hunt and her master's name was Taz Hunt. I +did not know who my father was until after the war. When I was about 11 +years old I went to work on a farm for Thomas Williams and he told me he +was my father. When I was born he was a slave on the plantation next to +Hunt's place and was owned by John Jefferson. Jefferson sold my father +after I was born but I do not know his last master's name.</p> + +<p>My father and mother were never married. They just had the permission of +the two slave owners to live together and I became the property of my +father's master, John Jefferson until I was sold. After the war my +mother joined my father on his little farm and it was then I first +learned he was my father.</p> + +<p>I was sold when I was 3 years old but I don't remember the name of the +man that bought me.</p> + +<p>After the war my father got 100 acres and a team of mules to farm on +shares, the master furnishing the food for the first year and at the end +of the second year he had the privilege of buying the land at $1.00 per +acre.</p> + +<p>When I was a boy I played with other slave children and sometimes with +the master's children and what little education I have I got from them. +No, I can't read or write but I can figure 'like the devil'.</p> + +<p>The plantation of John Jefferson was one of the biggest in the south, it +had 2200 acres and he owned about 2000 slaves.</p> + +<p>I was too young to remember anything about the slave days although I do +remember that I never saw a pair of shoes until I was old enough to +work. My father was a cobbler and I used to have to whittle out shoe +pegs for him and I had to walk sometimes six miles to get pine knots +which we lit at night so my mother could see to work.</p> + +<p>I did not stay with my father and mother long as I was only about 14 +when I started north. I worked for farmers every place I could find work +and sometimes would work a month or maybe two. The last farmer I worked +for I stayed a year and I got my board and room and five dollars a month +which was paid at the end of every six months. I stayed in Pennsylvania +for some years and came to Canton in 1884. I have always worked at farm +work except now and then in a factory.</p> + +<p>I had two brothers, Dan and Tom, and one sister, Dora, but I never heard +from them or saw them after the war. I have been married twice. My first +wife was Sally Dillis Blaire and we were married in 1889. I got a +divorce a few years later and I don't know whatever became of her. My +second wife is still living. Her name was Kattie Belle Reed and I +married her in 1907. No, I never had any children.</p> + +<p>I don't believe I had a bed when I was a slave as I don't remember any. +At home, after the war, my mother and father's bed was made of wood with +ropes stretched across with a straw tick on top. 'Us kids' slept under +this bed on a 'trundle' bed so that at night my mother could just reach +down and look after any one of us if we were sick or anything.</p> + +<p>I was raised on ash cakes, yams and butter milk. These ash cakes were +small balls made of dough and my mother would rake the ashes out of the +fire place and lay these balls on the hot coals and then cover them over +with the ashes again. When they were done we would take 'em out, clean +off the ashes and eat them. We used to cook chicken by first cleaning +it, but leaving the feathers on, then cover it with clay and lay it in a +hole filled with hot coals. When it was done we would just knock off the +clay and the feathers would come off with it.</p> + +<p>When I was a 'kid' I wore nothing but a 'three cornered rag' and my +mother made all my clothes as I grew older. No, the slaves never knew +what underwear was.</p> + +<p>We didn't have any clocks to go by; we just went to work when it was +light enough and quit when it was too dark to see. When any slaves took +sick they called in a nigger mammy who used roots and herbs, that is, +unless they were bad sick, then the overseer would call a regular +doctor.</p> + +<p>When some slave died no one quit work except relatives and they stopped +just long enough to go to the funeral. The coffins were made on the +plantation, these were just rough pine board boxes, and the bodies were +buried in the grave yard on the plantation.</p> + +<p>The overseer on the Jefferson plantation, so my father told me, would +not allow the slaves to pray and I never saw a bible until after I came +north. This overseer was not a religious man and would whip a slave if +he found him praying.</p> + +<p>The slaves were allowed to sing and dance but were not allowed to play +games, but we did play marbles and cards on the quiet. If we wandered +too far from the plantation we were chased and when they caught us they +put us in the stockade. Some of the slaves escaped and as soon as the +overseer found this out they would turn the blood hounds loose. If they +caught any runaway slaves they would whip them and then sell them, they +would never keep a slave who tried to run away."</p> +<br> + +<p><b>NOTE:</b> Mr. Williams and his wife are supported by the Old Age Pension. +Interviewed by Chas. McCullough.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13217 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/13217-h/images/alester.jpg b/13217-h/images/alester.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..584d1df --- /dev/null +++ b/13217-h/images/alester.jpg diff --git a/13217-h/images/canderson.jpg b/13217-h/images/canderson.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..89c750f --- /dev/null +++ b/13217-h/images/canderson.jpg diff --git a/13217-h/images/jcampbell.jpg b/13217-h/images/jcampbell.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..15ff62f --- /dev/null +++ b/13217-h/images/jcampbell.jpg diff --git a/13217-h/images/mbarden.jpg b/13217-h/images/mbarden.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..47688ee --- /dev/null +++ b/13217-h/images/mbarden.jpg diff --git a/13217-h/images/pbost.jpg b/13217-h/images/pbost.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7980dcb --- /dev/null +++ b/13217-h/images/pbost.jpg diff --git a/13217-h/images/rtoler.jpg b/13217-h/images/rtoler.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..25fae07 --- /dev/null +++ b/13217-h/images/rtoler.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6372706 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #13217 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13217) diff --git a/old/13217-h.zip b/old/13217-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..700841a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13217-h.zip diff --git a/old/13217-h/13217-h.htm b/old/13217-h/13217-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc0f351 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13217-h/13217-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4727 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + <title>Born in Slavery: Slave Narratives from the Federal Writers' Project, 1936-1938: + Ohio Narratives, Volume XII </title> + <meta name="author" content="Federal Writers' Project"> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery +in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: The Ohio Narratives +by Work Projects Administration + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States + From Interviews with Former Slaves: The Ohio Narratives + +Author: Work Projects Administration + +Release Date: August 18, 2004 [EBook #13217] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES *** + + + + +Produced by Andrea Ball and PG Distributed Proofreaders. Produced +from images provided by the Library of Congress, Manuscript Division. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p>[TR: ***] = Transcriber Note</p> +<p>[HW: ***] = Handwritten Note</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"><br><br> + +<h1>SLAVE NARRATIVES</h1> +<br> + +<h2><i>A Folk History of Slavery in the United States<br> +From Interviews with Former Slaves</i></h2> +<br> + +<h4>TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY<br> +THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT<br> +1936-1938<br> +ASSEMBLED BY<br> +THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT<br> +WORK PROJECTS ADMINISTRATION<br> +FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA<br> +SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS</h4> +<br> + +<p><i>Illustrated with Photographs</i></p> +<br> + +<p>WASHINGTON 1941</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>VOLUME XII</h2> + +<h2>OHIO NARRATIVES</h2> + +<h3>Prepared by<br> +the Federal Writers' Project of<br> +the Works Progress Administration<br> +for the State of Ohio</h3> +<br><br><br> + + +<h2>INFORMANTS</h2> + +<a href='#AndersonCharlesH'>Anderson, Charles H.</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#BardenMelissa'>Barden, Melissa</a><br> +<a href='#BledsoeSusan'>Bledsoe, Susan</a><br> +<a href='#BostPhoebe'>Bost, Phoebe</a><br> +<a href='#BrownBen'>Brown, Ben</a><br> +<a href='#BurkeSarahWoods'>Burke, Sarah Woods</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#CampbellJames'>Campbell, James</a><br> +<a href='#ClarkFleming'>Clark, Fleming</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#DavidsonHannah'>Davidson, Hannah</a><br> +<a href='#DempseyMaryBelle'>Dempsey, Mary Belle</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#EastNancy'>East, Nancy</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#GlennWade'>Glenn, Wade</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#HallDavidA'>Hall, David A.</a><br> +<a href='#HendersonCelia'>Henderson, Celia</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#JacksonGeorge'>Jackson, George</a><br> +<a href='#JacksonGeorge2'>Jackson, George</a> + [TR: Description]<br> +<a href='#JemisonPerrySid'>Jemison, Rev. Perry Sid</a> [TR: Name also appears as Jamison]<br> +<a href='#JamisonPerrySid'>Jamison, Rev. Perry Sid</a> + [TR: Word Picture]<br> +<br> +<a href='#KingJulia'>King, Julia</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#LesterAngeline'>Lester, Angeline</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#McKimmKisey'>McKimm, Kisey</a><br> +<a href='#McMillanThomas'>McMillan, Thomas</a><br> +<a href='#McMillanThomas2'>McMillan, Thomas</a> + [TR: Word Picture]<br> +<a href='#MannSarah'>Mann, Sarah</a><br> +<a href='#MatheusJohnWilliams'>Matheus, John William</a><br> +<a href='#MatheusJohnWilliam2'>Matheus, John William</a> + [TR: Word Picture]<br> +<br> +<a href='#NelsonWilliam'>Nelson, William</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#SlimCatherine'>Slim, Catherine</a><br> +<a href='#SmallJennie'>Small, Jennie</a><br> +<a href='#SmithAnna'>Smith, Anna</a><br> +<a href='#StewartNan'>Stewart, Nan</a><br> +<a href='#SuttonSamuel'>Sutton, Samuel</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#TolerRichard'>Toler, Richard</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#WilliamsJulia'>Williams, Julia</a><br> +<a href='#WilliamsJulia2'>Williams, Julia</a> + [TR: Supplemental Story]<br> +<a href='#WilliamsReverend'>Williams, Rev.</a><br> +<a href='#WilliamsWilliam'>Williams, William</a><br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<a href="#img_CA">Charles H. Anderson</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#img_MB">Melissa Barden</a><br> +<a href="#img_PB">Phoebe Bost</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#img_JC">James Campbell</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#img_AL">Angeline Lester</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#img_RT">Richard Toler</a><br> +<br><br> + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AndersonCharlesH"></a> +<h3>Ruth Thompson, Interviewing<br> +Graff, Editing<br> +<br> +Ex-Slave Interview<br> +Cincinnati<br> +<br> +CHARLES H. ANDERSON<br> +3122 Fredonia St.,<br> +Cincinnati, Ohio</h3> +<br> + +<a name="img_CA"></a> + +<center><p> +<img src='images/canderson.jpg' width='250' height='315' alt='Charles H. Anderson'> +</p></center> + +<br> +<p>"Life experience excels all reading. Every place you go, you learn +something from every class of people. Books are just for a memory, to +keep history and the like, but I don't have to go huntin' in libraries, +I got one in my own head, for you can't forget what you learn from +experience."</p> + +<p>The old man speaking is a living example of his theory, and, judging +from his bearing, his experience has given him a philosophical outlook +which comprehends love, gentleness and wisdom. Charles H. Anderson, 3122 +Fredonia Street, was born December 23, 1845, in Richmond, Virginia, as a +slave belonging to J.L. Woodson, grocer, "an exceedingly good owner—not +cruel to anyone".</p> + +<p>With his mother, father, and 15 brothers and sisters, he lived at the +Woodson home in the city, some of the time in a cabin in the rear, but +mostly in the "big house". Favored of all the slaves, he was trusted to +go to the cash drawer for spending money, and permitted to help himself +to candy and all he wanted to eat. With the help of the mistress, his +mother made all his clothes, and he was "about as well dressed as +anybody".</p> + +<p>"I always associated with high-class folks, but I never went to church +then, or to school a day in my life. My owner never sent me or my +brothers, and then when free schools came in, education wasn't on my +mind. I just didn't think about education. Now, I read a few words, and +I can write my name. But experience is what counts most."</p> + +<p>Tapping the porch floor with his cane for emphasis, the old fellow's +softly slurred words fell rapidly but clearly. Sometimes his tongue got +twisted, and he had to repeat. Often he had to switch his pipe from one +side of his mouth to the other; for, as he explained, "there ain't many +tooth-es left in there". Mr. Anderson is rather slight of build, and his +features are fine, his bald head shiny, and his eyes bright and eager. +Though he says he "ain't much good anymore", he seems half a century old +instead of "92 next December, if I can make it".</p> + +<p>"I have been having some sick spells lately, snapped three or four ribs +out of place several years ago, and was in bed for six weeks after my +wife died ten year ago. But my step-daughter here nursed me through it. +Doctor says he doesn't see how I keep on living. But they take good care +of me, my sons and step-daughter. They live here with me, and we're +comfortable."</p> + +<p>And comfortable, neat, and clean they are in the trimmest little frame +house on the street, painted grey with green trim, having a square of +green lawn in front and another in back enclosed with a rail fence, gay +flowers in the corners, rubber plants in pots on the porch, and grape +arbor down one side of the back yard. Inside, rust-colored mohair +overstuffed chairs and davenport look prim with white, crocheted +doilies, a big clock with weights stands in one corner on an ornately +carved table, and several enlarged framed photographs hang on the wall. +The other two rooms are the combined kitchen and dining room, and a +bedroom with a heatrola in it "to warm an old man's bones". Additional +bedrooms are upstairs.</p> + +<p>Pointing to one of the pictures, he remarked, "That was me at 37. Had it +taken for my boss where I worked. It was a post card, and then I had it +enlarged for myself. That was just before I married Helen".</p> + +<p>Helen Comer, nee Cruitt, was a widow with four youngsters when he met +her 54 years ago. One year later they were married and had two boys, +Charles, now 47, employed as an auto repair man, and Samuel, 43, a +sorter in the Post Office, both bachelors.</p> + +<p>"Yes sir, I sure was healthy-looking them days. Always was strong, never +took a dollars worth of medicine in fifty year or more till I had these +last sick spells. But we had good living in slave days. In one sense we +were better off then than after the war, 'cause we had plenty to eat. +Nowadays, everybody has to fen' for himself, and they'd kill a man for a +dime.</p> + +<p>"Whip the slaves? Oh, my God! Don't mention it, don't mention it! Lots +of 'em in Old Dominion got beatings for punishment. They didn't have no +jail for slaves, but the owners used a whip and lash on 'em. I've seen +'am on a chain gang, too, up at the penitentiary. But I never got a +whipping in my life. Used to help around the grocery, and deliver +groceries. Used to go up to Jeff Davis' house every day. He was a fine +man. Always was good to me. But then I never quarreled with anybody, +always minded my own business. And I never was scared of nothing. Most +folks was superstitious, but I never believed in ghosts nor anything I +didn't see. Never wore a charm. Never took much stock in that kind of +business. The old people used to carry potatoes to keep off rheumatism. +Yes, sir. They had to steal an Irish potato, and carry it till it was +hard as a rock; then they'd say they never get rheumatism.</p> + +<p>"Saturday was our busy day at the store; but after work, I used to go to +the drag downs. Some people say 'hoe down' or 'dig down', I guess 'cause +they'd dig right into it, and give it all they got. I was a great hand +at fiddlin'. Got one in there now that is 107-year old, but I haven't +played for years. Since I broke my shoulder bone, I can't handle the +bow. But I used to play at all the drag downs. Anything I heard played +once, I could play. Used to play two steps, one of 'em called 'Devil's +Dream', and three or four good German waltzes, and 'Turkey in the +Straw'—but we didn't call it that then. It was the same piece, but I +forget what we called it. They don't play the same nowadays. Playin' now +is just a time-consumer, that's all; they got it all tore to pieces, no +top or bottom to it.</p> + +<p>"We used to play games, too. Ring games at play parties—'Ring Around +the Rosie', 'Chase the Squirrel', and 'Holly Golly'. Never hear of Holly +Golly? Well, they'd pass around the peanuts, and whoever'd get three +nuts in one shell had to give that one to the one who had started the +game. Then they'd pass 'em around again. Just a peanut-eating contest, +sorta.</p> + +<p>"Abraham Lincoln? Well, they's people born in this world for every +occupation and Lincoln was a natural born man for the job he completed. +Just check it back to Pharoah' time: There was Moses born to deliver the +children of Israel. And John Brown, he was born for a purpose. But they +said he was cruel all the way th'ough, and they hung him in February, +1859. That created a great sensation. And he said, 'Go ahead. Do your +work. I done mine'. Then they whipped around till they got the war +started. And that was the start of the Civil War.</p> + +<p>"I enlisted April 10, 1865, and was sent to San Diego, Texas; but I +never was in a battle. And they was only one time when I felt anyways +skittish. That was when I was a new recruit on picket duty. And it was +pitch dark, and I heard something comin' th'ough the bushes, and I +thought, 'Let 'em come, whoever it is'. And I got my bayonet all ready, +and waited. I'se gittin' sorta nervous, and purty soon the bushes +opened, and what you think come out? A great big ole hog!</p> + +<p>"In June '65, I got a cold one night, and contracted this throat trouble +I get—never did get rid of it. Still carry it from the war. Got my +first pension on that—$6 a month. Ain't many of us left to get pensions +now. They's only 11 veterans left in Cincinnati.</p> + +<p>"They used to be the Ku Klux Klan organization. That was the +pat-rollers, then they called them the Night Riders, and at one time the +Regulators. The 'Ole Dragon', his name was Simons, he had control of it, +and that continued on for 50 year till after the war when Garfield was +president. Then it sprung up again, now the King Bee is in prison.</p> + +<p>"Well, after the war I was free. But it didn't make much difference to +me; I just had to work for myself instead of somebody else. And I just +rambled around. Sort of a floater. But I always worked, and I always eat +regular, and had regular rest. Work never hurt nobody. I lived so many +places, Cleveland, and ever'place, but I made it here longer than +anyplace—53 year. I worked on the railroad, bossin'. Always had men +under me. When the Chesapeake and Ohio put th'ough that extension to +White Sulphur, we cut tracks th'ough a tunnel 7 mile long. And I handled +men in '83 when they put the C & O th'ough here. But since I was 71, I +been doin' handy work—just general handy man. Used to do a lot of +carving, too, till I broke my shoulder bone. Carved that ol' pipe of +mine 25 year ago out of an ol' umbrella handle, and carved this monkey +watch charm. But the last three year I ain't done much of anything.</p> + +<p>"Go to church sometimes, over here to the Corinthian Baptis' Church of +Walnut Hills. But church don't do much good nowadays. They got too much +education for church. This new-fangled education is just a bunch of +ignoramacy. Everybody's just looking for a string to pull to get +something—not to help others. About one-third goes to see what everbody +else is wearing, and who's got the nicest clothes. And they sit back, +and they say, 'What she think she look like with that thing on her +haid?'. The other two-thirds? Why, they just go for nonsense, I guess. +Those who go for religion are scarce as chicken teeth. Yes sir, they go +more for sight-seein' than soul-savin'.</p> + +<p>"They's so much gingerbread work goin' on now. Our most prominent people +come from the eastern part of the United States. All wise people come +from the East, just as the wise men did when the Star of Bethlehem +appeared when Christ was born. And the farther east you go, the more +common knowledge a person's got. That ain't no Dream Boat. Nowadays, +people are gettin' crazier everyday. We got too much liberty; it's all +'little you, and big me'. Everybody's got a right to his own opinion, +and the old fashioned way was good enough for my father, and it's good +enough for me.</p> + +<p>"If your back trail is clean, you don't need to worry about the future. +Your future life is your past conduct. It's a trailer behind you. And I +ain't quite dead yet, efn I do smell bad!"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BardenMelissa"></a> +<h3>Story and Photo by Frank M. Smith<br> +<br> +Ex-Slaves<br> +Mahoning County, District #5<br> +Youngstown, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. MELISSA (LOWE) BARDEN, Youngstown, Ohio.</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_MB"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/mbarden.jpg' width='250' height='380' alt='Melissa Barden' > +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Melissa (Lowe) Barden of 1671 Jacobs Road, was "bred and born" on +the plantation of David Lowe, near Summersville, Georgia, Chattooga +County, and when asked how old she was said "I's way up yonder +somewheres maybe 80 or 90 years."</p> + +<p>Melissa assumed her master's name Lowe, and says he was very good to her +and that she loved him. Only once did she feel ill towards him and that +was when he sold her mother. She and her sister were left alone. Later +he gave her sister and several other slaves to his newly married +daughter as a wedding present. This sister was sold and re-sold and when +the slaves were given their freedom her mother came to claim her +children, but Melissa was the only one of the four she could find. Her +mother took her to a plantation in Newton County, where they worked +until coming north. The mother died here and Melissa married a man named +Barden.</p> + +<p>Melissa says she was very happy on the plantation where they danced and +sang folk songs of the South, such as <u>"Sho' Fly Go 'Way From Me"</u>, +and others after their days work was done.</p> + +<p>When asked if she objected to having her picture taken she said, "all +right, but don't you-all poke fun at me because I am just as God made +me."</p> + +<p>Melissa lives with her daughter, Nany Hardie, in a neat bungalow on the +Sharon Line, a Negro district. Melissa's health is good with the +exception of cataracts over her eyes which have caused her to be totally +blind.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BledsoeSusan"></a> +<h3>Ohio Guide<br> +Ex-Slave Stories<br> +Aug 15, 1937<br> +<br> +SUSAN BLEDSOE<br> +462-12th St. S.E., Canton, Ohio</h3> +<br> +<p>"I was born on a plantation in Gilee County, near the town of Elkton, in +Tennessee, on August 15, 1845. My father's name was Shedrick Daley and +he was owned by Tom Daley and my mother's name was Rhedia Jenkins and +her master's name was Silas Jenkins. I was owned by my mother's master +but some of my brothers and sisters—I had six brothers and six +sisters—were owned by Tom Daley.</p> + +<p>I always worked in the fields with the men except when I was called to +the house to do work there. 'Masse' Jenkins was good and kind to all us +slaves and we had good times in the evening after work. We got in groups +in front of the cabins and sang and danced to the music of banjoes until +the overseer would come along and make us go to bed. No, I don't +remember what the songs were, nothing in particular, I guess, just some +we made up and we would sing a line or two over and over again.</p> + +<p>We were not allowed to work on Sunday but we could go to church if we +wanted to. There wasn't any colored church but we could go to the white +folks church if we went with our overseer. His name was Charlie Bull and +he was good to all of us.</p> + +<p>Yes, they had to whip a slave sometimes, but only the bad ones, and they +deserved it. No, there wasn't any jail on the plantation.</p> + +<p>We all had to get up at sunup and work till sundown and we always had +good food and plenty of it; you see they had to feed us well so we would +be strong. I got better food when I was a slave than I have ever had +since.</p> + +<p>Our beds were home made, they made them out of poplar wood and gave us +straw ticks to sleep on. I got two calico dresses a year and these were +my Sunday dresses and I was only allowed to wear them on week days after +they were almost worn out. Our shoes were made right on the plantation.</p> + +<p>When any slaves got sick, Mr. Bull, the overseer, got a regular doctor +and when a slave died we kept right on working until it was time for the +funeral, then we were called in but had to go right back to work as soon +as it was over. Coffins were made by the slaves out of poplar lumber.</p> + +<p>We didn't play many games, the only ones I can remember are 'ball' and +'marbles'. No, they would not let us play 'cards'.</p> + +<p>One day I was sent out to clean the hen house and to burn the straw. I +cleaned the hen house, pushed the straw up on a pile and set fire to it +and burned the hen house down and I sure thought I was going to get +whipped, but I didn't, for I had a good 'masse'.</p> + +<p>We always got along fine with the children of the slave owners but none +of the colored people would have anything to do with the 'poor white +trash' who were too poor to own slaves and had to do their own work.</p> + +<p>There was never any uprisings on our plantations and I never heard about +any around where I lived. We were all happy and contented and had good +times.</p> + +<p>Yes, I can remember when we were set free. Mr. Bull told us and we cut +long poles and fastened balls of cotton on the ends and set fire to +them. Then, we run around with them burning, a-singin' and a-dancin'. +No, we did not try to run away and never left the plantation until Mr. +Bull said we could go.</p> + +<p>After the war, I worked for Mr. Bull for about a year on the old +plantation and was treated like one of the family. After that I worked +for my brother on a little farm near the old home place. He was buying +his farm from his master, Mr. Tom Daley.</p> + +<p>I was married on my brother's place to Wade Bledsoe in 1870. He has been +dead now about 15 years. His master had given him a small farm but I do +not remember his master's name. Yes, I lived in Tennessee until after my +husband died. I came to Canton in 1929 to live with my granddaughter, +Mrs. Algie Clark.</p> + +<p>I had three children; they are all dead but I have 6 grandchildren, 8 +great-grandchildren and 9 great-great-grandchildren, all living. No, I +don't think the children today are as good as they used to be, they are +just not raised like we were and do too much as they please.</p> + +<p>I can't read or write as none of we slaves ever went to school but I +used to listen to the white folks talk and copied after them as much as +I could."</p> +<br> + +<p><b>NOTE:</b> The above is almost exactly as Mrs. Bledsoe talked to our +interviewer. Although she is a woman of no schooling she talks well and +uses the common negro dialect very little. She is 92 years of age but +her mind is clear and she is very entertaining. She receives an Old Age +Pension. (Interviewed by Chas. McCullough.)</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BostPhoebe"></a> +<h3>Story and Photo by Frank Smith<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-slaves<br> +Mahoning County, District #5<br> +Youngstown, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. PHOEBE BOST, of Youngstown, Ohio.</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_PB"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/pbost.jpg' width='230' height='392' alt='Phoebe Bost'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Phoebe Bost, was born on a plantation in Louisiana, near New +Orleans. She does not know her exact age but says she was told, when +given her freedom that she was about 15 years of age. Phoebe's first +master was a man named Simons, who took her to a slave auction in +Baltimore, where she was sold to Vaul Mooney (this name is spelled as +pronounced, the correct spelling not known.) When Phoebe was given her +freedom she assummed the name of Mooney, and went to Stanley County, +North Carolina, where she worked for wages until she came north and +married to Peter Bost. Phoebe claims both her masters were very mean and +would administer a whipping at the slightest provocation.</p> + +<p>Phoebe's duties were that of a nurse maid. "I had to hol' the baby all +de time she slept" she said "and sometimes I got so sleepy myself I had +to prop ma' eyes open with pieces of whisks from a broom."</p> + +<p>She claims there was not any recreation, such as singing and dancing +permitted at this plantation.</p> + +<p>Phoebe, who is now widowed, lives with her daughter, in part of a double +house, at 3461 Wilson Avenue, Campbell, Ohio. Their home is fairly well +furnished and clean in appearance. Phoebe is of slender stature, and is +quite active in spite of the fact that she is nearing her nineties.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BrownBen"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +By Albert I Dugan [TR: also reported as Dugen]<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-slaves<br> +Muskingum County, District #2<br> +<br> +BEN BROWN<br> +Ex-slave, 100 years<br> +Keen St., Zanesville, Ohio</h3> +<br> + +<p>Yes suh I wuz a slave in Vaginyah, Alvamaul (Albermarle) county an' I +didn't have any good life, I'm tellin' you dat! It wuz a tough life. I +don't know how old I am, dey never told me down dere, but the folks here +say I'm a hunderd yeah old an' I spect dats about right. My fathah's +name wuz Jack Brown and' my mammy's Nellie Brown. Dey wuz six of us +chillun, one sistah Hannah an' three brothers, Jim, Harrison, an' Spot. +Jim wuz de oldes an' I wuz next. We wuz born on a very lauge plantation +an dey wuz lots an' lots of other slaves, I don't know how many. De log +cabins what we live in[HW:?] on both sides de path make it look like a +town. Mastah's house wuz a big, big one an' had big brick chimneys on de +outside. It wuz a frame house, brown, an' set way back from de road, an' +behind dat wuz de slaves' quarters. De mastah, he wuz Fleming Moon an' +dey say he wuz cap'n in de wah of 1812. De missy wuz Parley Moon and dey +had one son an fouh daughters.</p> + +<p>All us chillun an mammy live in a log cabin dat wuz lauge enuf foh us an +we sleep in good beds, tall ones an' low ones dat went undaneath, +trundles dey call 'em, and de covahs wuz comfohtable. De mammies did de +cookin. We et cohn bread, beans, soup, cabbage an' some othah vegtubles, +an a little meat an fish, not much. Cohn cake wuz baked in de ashes, +ash-cake we call 'em an' dey wuz good and sweet. Sometimes we got wheat +bread, we call dat "seldom bread" an' cohn bread wuz called "common" +becos we had it ev'ry day. A boss mammy, she looked aftah de eatins' and +believe me nobuddy got too much.</p> + +<p>De meat house wuz full of smoked po'k, but we only got a little piece +now an' den. At hog killin' time we built a big fiah an put on stones +an' when dey git hot we throw 'em in a hogshead dat has watah in it. Den +moah hot stones till de watah is jus right for takin' de hair off de +hogs, lots of 'em. Salt herrin' fish in barls cum to our place an we put +em in watah to soak an den string em on pointed sticks an' hang up to +dry so dey wont be so salty. A little wuz given us with de other food.</p> + +<p>I worked about de place doin' chores an takin' care of de younger +chillun, when mammy wuz out in de fields at harvest time, an' I worked +in de fields too sometimes. De mastah sent me sometimes with young +recruits goin' to de army headquartahs at Charlottesville to take care +of de horses an show de way. We all worked hard an' when supper wuz ovah +I wuz too tired to do anything but go to bed. It wuz jus work, eat an +sleep foh most of us, dere wuz no time foh play. Some of em tried to +sing or tell stories or pray but dey soon went to bed. Sometimes I heard +some of de stories about hants and speerits an devils that skeered me so +I ran to bed an' covered mah head.</p> + +<p>Mastah died an' den missie, she and a son-in-law took charge of de +place. Mah sistah Hannah wuz sold on de auction block at Richmon to +Mastah Frank Maxie (Massie?) an' taken to de plantation near +Charlottesville. I missed mah sistah terrible an ran away to see her, +ran away three times, but ev'ry time dey cum on horseback an git me jus +befoh I got to Maxies. The missie wuz with dem on a horse and she ax +where I goin an' I told her. Mah hands wuz tied crossways in front with +a big rope so hard it hurt. Den I wuz left on de groun foh a long time +while missie visited Missie Maxie. Dey start home on horses pulling de +rope tied to mah hands. I had to run or fall down an' be dragged on de +groun'. It wuz terrible. When we got home de missie whipped me with a +thick hickory switch an' she wasn't a bit lenient. I wuz whipped ev'ry +time I ran away to see mah sister.</p> + +<p>When dere wuz talk of Yankies cumin' de missie told me to git a box an +she filled it with gold an' silver, lots of it, she wuz rich, an I dug a +hole near de hen house an put in de box an' covered it with dirt an' +smoothed it down an scattered some leaves an twigs ovah it. She told me +nevah, nevah to tell about it and I nevah did until now. She showed me a +big white card with writin' on it an' said it say "This is a Union +Plantation" an' put it on a tree so the Yankies wouldn't try to find de +gold and silvers. But I never saw any Yankie squads cum around. When de +wah wuz ovah, de missie nevah tell me dat I wuz free an' I kep' on +workin' same as befoh. I couldn't read or write an' to me all money +coins wuz a cent, big copper cents, dey wuz all alike to me. De slaves +wuz not allowed any learnin an' if any books, papers or pictures wuz +foun' among us we wuz whipped if we couldn't explain where dey cum from. +Mah sistah an' brother cum foh me an tell me I am free and take me with +them to Mastah Maxies' place where dey workin. Dey had a big dinnah +ready foh me, but I wuz too excited to eat. I worked foh Mastah Maxie +too, helpin' with de horses an' doin' chores. Mammy cum' an wuz de cook. +I got some clothes and a few cents an' travelers give me small coins foh +tending dere horses an' I done done odd jobs here an dere.</p> + +<p>I wanted some learnin but dere wuz no way to git it until a white man +cleared a place in de woods an' put up branches to make shade. He read +books to us foh a while an' den gave it up. A lovly white woman, Missy +Holstottle, her husband's name wuz Dave, read a book to me an' I +remember de stories to dis day. It wuz called "White an' Black." Some of +de stories made me cry.</p> + +<p>After wanderin about doin work where I could git it I got a job on de C +an O Railroad workin' on de tracks. In Middleport, dat's near Pomeroy, +Ohio, I wuz married to Gertie Nutter, a widow with two chillun, an dere +wuz no moah chilluns. After mah wife died I wandered about workin' on +railroads an' in coal mines an' I wuz hurt in a mine near Zanesville. +Felt like mah spine wuz pulled out an I couldn't work any moah an' I cum +to mah neice's home here in Zanesville. I got some compensation at +first, but not now. I get some old age pension, a little, not much, but +I'm thankful foh dat.</p> + +<p>Mah life wuz hard an' sad, but now I'm comfortable here with kind +friens. I can't read or write, but I surely enjoy de radio. Some nights +I dream about de old slave times an' I hear dem cryin' an' prayin', "Oh, +Mastah, pray Oh, mastah, mercy!" when dey are bein' whipped, an' I wake +up cryin.' I set here in dis room and can remember mos' all of de old +life, can see it as plain as day, de hard work, de plantation, de +whippings, an' de misery. I'm sure glad it's all over.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BurkeSarahWoods"></a> +<h3>James Immel, Reporter<br> +<br> +Folklore<br> +Washington County, District Three<br> +<br> +SARAH WOODS BURKE<br> +Aged 85</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Yessir, I guess you all would call me an ex-slave cause I was born in +Grayson County, West Virginia and on a plantation I lived for quite a +spell, that is until when I was seven years old when we all moved up +here to Washington county."</p> + +<p>"My Pappy's old Mammy was supposed to have been sold into slavery when +my Pappy was one month old and some poor white people took him ter +raise. We worked for them until he was a growed up man, also 'til they +give him his free papers and 'lowed him to leave the plantation and come +up here to the North."</p> + +<p>"How did we live on the plantation? Well—you see it was like this we +lived in a log cabin with the ground for floors and the beds were built +against the walls jus' like bunks. I 'member that the slaves had a hard +time getting food, most times they got just what was left over or +whatever the slaveholder wanted to give them so at night they would slip +outa their cabins on to the plantation and kill a pig, a sheep or some +cattle which they would butcher in the woods and cut up. The wimmin +folks would carry the pieces back to the cabins in their aprons while +the men would stay behind and bury the head, skin and feet."</p> + +<p>"Whenever they killed a pig they would have to skin it, because they +didn't dare to build a fire. The women folk after getting home would put +the meat in special dug trenches and the men would come erlong and cover +it up."</p> + +<p>"The slave holders in the port of the country I came from was men and it +was quite offen that slaves were tied to a whipping stake and whipped +with a blacksnake until the blood ran down their bodies."</p> + +<p>"I remembers quite clearly one scene that happened jus' afore I left +that there part of the country. At the slaveholders home on the +plantation I was at it was customary for the white folks to go to church +on Sunday morning and to leave the cook in charge. This cook had a habit +of making cookies and handing them out to the slaves before the folks +returned. Now it happened that on one Sunday for some reason or tother +the white folks returned before the regular time and the poor cook did +not have time to get the cookies to the slaves so she just hid then in a +drawer that was in a sewing chair."</p> + +<p>"The white folks had a parrot that always sat on top of a door in this +room and when the mistress came in the room the mean old bird hollered +out at the top of his voice, 'Its in the rocker. It's in the rocker'. +Well the Missus found the cookies and told her husband where upon the +husband called his man that done the whipping and they tied the poor +cook to the stake and whipped her till she fainted. Next morning the +parrot was found dead and a slave was accused because he liked the woman +that had been whipped the day before. They whipped him than until the +blood ran down his legs."</p> + +<p>"Spirits? Yessir I believe in them, but we warnt bothered so much by +them in them days but we was by the wild animals. Why after it got dark +we children would have to stay indoors for fear of them. The men folks +would build a big fire and I can remember my Pappy a settin on top of +the house at night with a old flint lock across his legs awaiting for +one of them critters to come close enough so he could shoot it. The +reason for him being trusted with a gun was because he had been raised +by the poor white man who worked for the slaveholder. My Pappy did not +work in the fields but drove a team of horses."</p> + +<p>"I remembers that when we left the plantation and come to Washington +County, Ohio that we traveled in a covered wagon that had big white +horse hitched to it. The man that owned the horse was Blake Randolls. He +crossed the river 12 miles below Parkersberg. W. Va. on a ferry and went +to Stafford, Ohio, in Monroe County where we lived until I was married +at the age of 15 to Mr. Burke, by the Justice of the Peace, Edward +Oakley. A year later we moved to Curtis Ridge which is seven miles from +Stafford and we lived their for say 20 year or more. We moved to Rainbow +for a spell and then in 1918 my husband died. The old man hard luck came +around cause three years my home burned to the ground and then I came +here to live with my boy Joe and his family."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Burke and myself raised a family of 16 chilluns and at that time my +husband worked at farming for other people at $2.00 a month and a few +things they would give him."</p> + +<p>"My Pappy got his education from the boy of the white man he lived with +because he wasn't allowed to go to school and the white boy was very +smart and taught him just as he learned. My Pappy, fought in the Civil +War too. On which side? Well, sho nuff on the site of the North, boy."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CampbellJames"></a> +<h3>Hallie Miller, Reporter<br> +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor<br> +<br> +Folklore: Ex-slaves<br> +Gellia County, District 3<br> +<br> +JAMES CAMPBELL<br> +Age 86</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_JC"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/jcampbell.jpg' width='255' height='365' alt='James Campbell'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>"Well, I'se bo'n Monro' County, West Virginia, on January 15, 1852, jes' +few miles from Union, West Virginia."</p> + +<p>"My mammy wuz Dinnah Alexander Campbell an' my pappy wuz Levi Campbell +an' dey bof cum frum Monro' County. Dat's 'bout only place I heerd dem +speak 'bout."</p> + +<p>"Der wuz Levi, Floyd, Henry, Noah, an' Nancy, jes' my haf brudders an' +sistahs, but I neber knowed no diffrunce but whut dey wuz my sistahs an' +brudders."</p> + +<p>"Where we liv? On Marsa John Alexander's farm, he wuz a good Marsa too. +All Marsa John want wuz plenty wurk dun and we dun it too, so der wuz no +trubble on ouah plantashun. I neber reclec' anyone gittin' whipped or +bad treatment frum him. I does 'members, dat sum de neighbers say dey +wuz treated prutty mean, but I don't 'member much 'bout it 'caise I'se +leetle den."</p> + +<p>"Wher'd I sleep? I neber fergit dat trun'l bed, dat I sleep in.</p> + +<p>"Marsa John's place kinda stock farm an' I dun de milkin'. You all know +dat wuz easy like so I jes' keep busy milkin' an' gits out de hard work. +Nudder thing I lik to do wuz pick berries, dat wuz easy too, so I dun my +shar' pickin'."</p> + +<p>"Money? Lawsy chile, I neber dun seen eny money 'til aftah I dun cum to +Gallipolis aftah der war. An' how I lik' to heah it jingle, if I jes' +had two cents, I'd make it jingle."</p> + +<p>"We all had plenty an' good things to eat, beans, corn, tatahs, melons +an' hot mush, corn bread; we jes' seen white flour wunce in a while."</p> + +<p>"Yes mam, we had rabbit, wil' turkey, pheasunts, an' fish, say I'se +tellin' you-all dat riful pappy had shure cud kill de game."</p> + +<p>"Nudder good ole time wuz maple sugar makin' time, mostly dun at night +by limestone burnin'. Yes, I heped with the 'lasses an' all de time I +wuz a thinkin' 'bout dem hot biscets, ham meat, corn bread an' 'lasses."</p> + +<p>"We liv in a cabin on Marse John's place. Der wuzn't much in de cabin +but my mammy kept it mighty clean. Say, I kin see dat ole' fiah place +wid de big logs a burnin' right now; uh, an' smell dat good cookin', all +dun in iron pots an' skillets. An' all de cookin' an' heatin' wuz dun by +wood, why I nebber seed a lump o' coal all time I wuz der. We all had to +cut so much wood an' pile it up two weeks 'for Christmas, an' den when +ouah pile wuz cut, den ouah wurk wuz dun, so we'd jes' hav good time."</p> + +<p>"We all woah jeans clos', jes pants an' jacket. In de summah we chilluns +all went barefoot, but in de wintah we all woah shoes."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Marse John an' his family liv in a big fine brick hous'. Marse John +had des chilluns, Miss Betty an' Miss Ann an' der wuz Marse Mike an' +Marse John. Marse John, he wuz sorta spiled lik. He dun wen to de war +an' runs 'way frum Harpers Ferry an' cum home jes' sceered to death. He +get himsef a pah o' crutches an' neber goes back. Marse John dun used +dem crutches 'til aftah de war wuz ovah. Den der wuz ol' Missy +Kimberton—de gran'muthah. She wuz 'culiar but prutty good, so wuz +Marse's chilluns."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Marse John had bout 20 slaves so de wurk wuzn't so bad on nun ob +us. I kin jes' see dem ol' bindahs and harrows now, dat dey used den. It +would shure look funny usin' 'em now."</p> + +<p>"I all'us got up foah clock in de mornin' to git in de cows an' I didn't +hurry nun, 'caise dat tak in de time."</p> + +<p>"Ouah mammy neber 'lowed de old folks to tell us chilluns sceery stories +o' hants an' sich lik' so der's nun foah me to 'member."</p> + +<p>"Travelin' wuz rather slo' lik. De only way wuz in ox-carts or on hoss +back. We all didn't hay much time fer travelin'. Our Marse wuz too good +to think 'bout runnin' 'way."</p> + +<p>"Nun my fam'ly cud read er write. I lurned to read an write aftah I cum +up Norf to Ohio. Dat wuz biggest thing I ebber tackled, but it made me +de happies' aftah I learn't."</p> + +<p>"We all went to Sunday School an' meetin'. Yes mam, we had to wurk on +Sundays, too, if we did hav any spare time, we went visit in'. On +Saturday nights we had big time foah der wuz mos' all'us dancin' an' +we'd dance long as de can'les lasted. Can'les wuz all we had any time +fur light."</p> + +<p>"I 'member one de neighbah boys tried to run 'way an' de patrollahs got +'im an' fetched 'im back an' he shure dun got a wallopin' fer it. Dat +dun tuk any sich notion out my head. Dem patrollahs dun keep us skeered +to deaf all de time. One, Henry Jones, runned off and went cleah up Norf +sum place an' dey neber did git 'im. 'Course we all wuz shure powahful +glad 'bout his 'scapin'."</p> + +<p>"We'se neber 'lowed out de cabin at night. But sum times de oldah 'uns +wud sneak out at night an'tak de hosses an' tak a leetle ride. An' man +it wud bin jes' too bad if ol' Marse John ketched 'em: dat wuz shure +heaps o' fun fer de kids. I 'member hearin' wunce de ol' folks talkin' +'bout de way one Marse dun sum black boys dat dun sumthin' wrong. He +jes' mak 'em bite off de heads o' baccer wurms; mysef I'd ruther tuk a +lickin."</p> + +<p>"On Christmus Day, we'd git fiah crackahs an' drink brandy, dat wuz all. +Dat day wuz only one we didn't wurk. On Saturday evenin's we'd mold +candles, dat wuzn't so bad."</p> + +<p>"De happies' time o' my life wuz when Cap'n Tipton, a Yankee soljer +cumed an' tol' us de wah wuz ober an' we wuz free. Cap'n. Tipton sez, +"Youse de boys we dun dis foah". We shure didn't lose no time gittin' +'way; no man."</p> + +<p>"We went to Lewisburg an' den up to Cha'leston by wagon an' den tuk de +guvment boat, <u>Genrul Crooks</u>, an' it brung us heah to Gallipolis +in 1865. Dat Ohio shoah shure looked prutty."</p> + +<p>"I'se shure thankful to Mr. Lincoln foah whut he dun foah us folks, but +dat Jeff Davis, well I ain't sayin' whut I'se thinkin'."</p> + +<p>"De is jes' like de worl', der is lots o' good an' lots o' bad in it."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ClarkFleming"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slavery<br> +Jefferson Co, District #2<br> +<br> +FLEMING CLARK<br> +Ex-Slave, 74+ in years</h3> +<br> + +<p>My father's name wuz Fleming Clark and my mother's name wuz Emmaline +Clark. Both of dem wuz in slavery. Der massa's name wuz David Bowers. I +don't know where dey cum from but dey moved to Bad Creek after slavery +days.</p> + +<p>Der wuz three of us chillun. Charles, de oldest, den Anthony next and +den me, de youngest. I wuz workin' for a white man and wuz old enough to +drive cows and work in de 'bacco fields, pickin' worms off de leaves. De +other brudders worked wid my father on another plantation. De house +where I lived wid de white Massa Lewis Northsinge and his Missus, wuz a +log house wid just two rooms. I had just a little straw tick and a cot +dat de massa made himself and I hed a common quilt dat de missus made to +cover me.</p> + +<p>I hear dat my grandmother died during slavery and dat my grandfather wuz +killed by his massa during slavery.</p> + +<p>On Sunday I would go home and stay wid my father and mother and two +brothers. We would play around wid ball and marbles. We had no school or +church. We were too far away for church.</p> + +<p>I earned no money. All I got wus just my food and clothes. I wuz leasted +out to my massa and missus. I ate corn bread, fat hog meat and drank +butter milk. Sometimes my father would catch possum and my mother would +cook them, and bring me over a piece. I used to eat rabbit and fish. Dey +used to go fishin' in de creek. I liked rabbit and groundhog. De food +wuz boiled and roasted in de oven. De slaves have a little patch for a +garden and day work it mostly at night when it wuz moonlight.</p> + +<p>We wore geans and shirts of yellow cotton, we wore no shoes up til +Christmas. I wore just de same during de summer except a little coat. We +had no under shirt lik we have now. We wore de same on Sunday. Der wuz +no Sunday suit.</p> + +<p>De mass and missus hed one boy. De boy wuz much older than I. Dey were +all kind to me. I remember plenty poor white chillun. I remember Will +and John Nathan. Dey were poor white people.</p> + +<p>My massa had three plantations. He had five slaves on one and four on +another. I worked on one with four slaves. My father worked on one wid +my brother and mother. We would wake up at 4 and 5 o'clock and do chores +in de barn by lamp light. De overseer would ring a bell in de yeard, if +it wuz not too cold to go out. If it wuz too cold he would cum and knock +on de door. It wuz 8 or 9 o'clock fore we cum in at night. Den we have +to milk de cows to fore we have supper.</p> + +<p>De slaves were punished fore cumin' in too soon and unhitching de +horses. Dey would bend dem accross a barrel and switch dem and den send +dem back to de fields.</p> + +<p>I head dem say dey switch de blood out of dem and salt de wound den dey +could not work de next day.</p> + +<p>I saw slaves sold. Dey would stand on a block and men would bid for dem. +De highest bidder bought de slaves. I saw dem travel in groups, not +chained, one white man in front and one in back. Dey looked like cattle.</p> + +<p>De white folks never learned me to read or write.</p> + +<p>Der were petrollers. Dey were mean if dey catch you out late at night. +If a slave wus out late at night he had to have a notice from his massa. +Der wuz trouble if de slaves were out late at night or if dey run off to +another man.</p> + +<p>De slaves worked on Saturday afternoons. Dey stay in de cabins on +Saturday nights and Sundays. We worked on New Years day. De massa would +give us a little hard cider on Christmas day. Dey would give a big +supper at corn huskin' or cotton pickin' and give a little play or +somethin' lik dat.</p> + +<p>I remember two weddings. Dey hed chicken, and mutton to eat and corn +bread. Dey all ganged round de table. Der wur milk and butter. I +remember one wedding of de white people. I made de ice cream for dem. I +remember playin' marbles and ball.</p> + +<p>Sometimes a racer snake would run after us, wrap round us and whip us +with its tail. The first one I remember got after me in de orchard. He +wrapped right round me and whipped me with his tail.</p> + +<p>My mother took care of de slaves when dey were sick. You had to be awful +sick if dey didn't make you go out. Dey made der own medicine in those +days. We used asafetida and put a piece in a bag and hung it round our +necks. It wuz supposed to keep us from ketchin' diseases from anyone +else.</p> + +<p>When freedom cum dey were all shoutin' and I run to my mother and asked +her what it wuz all bout. De white man said you are all free and can go. +I remember the Yankee soldier comin' through the wheat field.</p> + +<p>My parents lived very light de first year after de war. We lived in a +log cabin. De white man helped dem a little. My father went to work +makin' charcoal. Der wuz no school for Negroes and no land that I +remember.</p> + +<p>I married Alice Thompson. She wuz 16 and I wuz 26. We hed a little +weddin' down in Bushannon, Virginny. A Baptist preacher named Shirley +married us. Der were bout a dozen at de weddin'. We hed a little dancin' +and banjo play in'. I hed two chillun but dey died and my wife died a +long, long time ago.</p> + +<p>I just heard a little bout Abraham Lincoln. I believe he wuz a good man. +I just hed a slight remembrance of Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis. +I have heard of Booker T. Washington, felt just de same bout him. A +pretty good man.</p> + +<p>I think it wuz a great thing that slavery anded, I would not lik to see +it now.</p> + +<p>I joined de Baptist church but I have been runnin' round from place to +place. We always prosper and get along with our fellowmen if we are +religious.</p> + +<p>De overseer wuz poor white trash. His rules were you hed to be out on de +plantation before daylight. Sometimes we hed to sit around on de fence +to wait for daylight and we did not go in before dark. We go in bout one +for meals.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DavidsonHannah"></a> +<h3>K. Osthimer, Author<br> +Aug 12, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore: Stories from Ex-Slaves<br> +Lucas County, District Nine<br> +Toledo, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. HANNAH DAVIDSON.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Hannah Davidson occupies two rooms in a home at 533 Woodland +Avenue, Toledo, Ohio. Born on a plantation in Ballard County, Kentucky, +in 1852, she is today a little, white-haired old lady. Dark, flashing +eyes peer through her spectacles. Always quick to learn, she has taught +herself to read. She says, "I could always spell almost everything." She +has eagerly sought education. Much of her ability to read has been +gained from attendance in recent years in WPA "opportunity classes" in +the city. Today, this warm-hearted, quiet little Negro woman ekes out a +bare existence on an old age pension of $23.00 a month. It is with +regret that she recalls the shadows and sufferings of the past. She +says, "It is best not to talk about them. The things that my sister May +and I suffered were so terrible that people would not believe them. It +is best not to have such things in our memory."</p> + +<p>"My father and mother were Isaac and Nancy Meriwether," she stated. "All +the slaves went under the name of my master and mistress, Emmett and +Susan Meriwether. I had four sisters and two brothers. There was +Adeline, Dorah, Alice, and Lizzie. My brothers were Major and George +Meriwether. We lived in a log cabin made of sticks and dirt, you know, +logs and dirt stuck in the cracks. We slept on beds made of boards +nailed up.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember anything about my grandparents. My folks were sold +around and I couldn't keep track of them.</p> + +<p>"The first work I did out from home was with my mistress's brother, Dr. +Jim Taylor, in Kentucky, taking care of his children. I was an awful +tiny little somethin' about eight or nine years old. I used to turn the +reel for the old folks who was spinning. That's all I've ever +known—work.</p> + +<p>"I never got a penny. My master kept me and my sister Mary twenty-two +long years after we were supposed to be free. Work, work, work. I don't +think my sister and I ever went to bed before twelve o'clock at night. +We never got a penny. They could have spared it, too; they had enough.</p> + +<p>"We ate corn bread and fat meat. Meat and bread, we kids called it. We +all had a pint tin cup of buttermilk. No slaves had their own gardens.</p> + +<p>"The men just wore jeans. The slaves all made their own clothes. They +just wove all the time; the old women wove all the time. I wasn't old +enough to go in the field like the oldest children. The oldest +children—they <u>worked</u>. After slavery ended, my sister Mary and me +worked as ex-slaves, and we <u>worked</u>. Most of the slaves had shoes, +but us kids used to run around barefoot most of the time.</p> + +<p>"My folks, my master and mistress, lived in a great, white, frame house, +just the same as a hotel. I grew up with the youngest child, Mayo. The +other white children grew up and worked as overseers. Mayo always wanted +me to call him 'Master Mayo'. I fought him all the time. I never would +call him 'Master Mayo'. My mistress wouldn't let anyone harm me and she +made Mayo behave.</p> + +<p>"My master wouldn't let the poor white neighbors—no one—tell us we was +free. The plantation was many, many acres, hundreds and hundreds of +acres, honey. There were about twenty-five or thirty families of slaves. +They got up and stood until daylight, waiting to plow. Yes, child, they +was up <u>early</u>. Our folks don't know how we had to work. I don't +like to tell you how we were treated—how we had to <u>work</u>. It's +best to brush those things out of our memory.</p> + +<p>"If you wanted to go to another plantation, you had to have a pass. If +my folks was going to somebody's house, they'd have to have a pass. +Otherwise they'd be whipped. They'd take a big man and tie his hands +behind a tree, just like that big tree outside, and whip him with a +rawhide and draw blood every whip. I know I was scared every time I'd +hear the slave say, 'Pray, Master.'</p> + +<p>"Once, when I was milking a cow, I asked Master Ousley, 'Master Ousley, +will you do me a favor?'</p> + +<p>"He said in his drawl, 'Of course I will.'</p> + +<p>"'Take me to McCracken County,' I said. I didn't even know where +McCracken County was, but my sister was there. I wanted to find my +sister. When I reached the house where my sister stayed, I went through +the gate. I asked if this was the house where Mary Meriwether lived. Her +mistress said, 'Yes, she's in the back. Are you the girl Mr. +Meriwether's looking for?" My heart was in my mouth. It just seemed I +couldn't go through the gate. I never even saw my sister that time. I +hid for a while and then went back.</p> + +<p>"We didn't have any churches. My master would come down Sunday morning +with just enough flour to make bread. Coffee, too. Their coffee was +parts of meal, corn and so on. Work all week and that's what they had +for coffee.</p> + +<p>"We used to sing, 'Swing low, sweet chariot'. When our folks sang that, +we could really see the chariot.</p> + +<p>"Once, Jim Ferguson, a colored man, came to teach school. The white +folks beat and whipped him and drove him away in his underwear.</p> + +<p>"I wanted so hard to learn to read, but I didn't even know I was free, +even when slavery was ended.</p> + +<p>"I been so exhausted working, I was like an inch-worm crawling along a +roof. I worked till I thought another lick would kill me. If you had +something to do, you did it or got whipped. Once I was so tired I +couldn't work any more. I crawled in a hole under the house and stayed +there till I was rested. I didn't get whipped, either.</p> + +<p>"I never will forget it—how my master always used to say, 'Keep a +nigger down' I never will forget it. I used to wait on table and I heard +them talk.</p> + +<p>"The only fun we had was on Sunday evening, after work. That was the +only chance we got. We used to go away off from the house and play in +the haystack.</p> + +<p>"Our folks was so cruel, the slaves used to whisper 'round. Some of them +knew they was free, even if the white folks didn't want 'em to find out +they was free. They went off in the woods sometimes. But I was just a +little kid and I wasn't allowed to go around the big folks.</p> + +<p>"I seen enough what the old folks went through. My sister and I went +through enough after slavery was over. For twenty-one long years we were +enslaved, even after we were supposed to be free. We didn't even know we +were free. We had to wash the white people's feet when they took their +shoes off at night—the men and women.</p> + +<p>"Sundays the slaves would wash out their clothes. It was the only time +they had to themselves. Some of the old men worked in their tobacco +patches. We never observed Christmas. We never had no holidays, son, +<u>no, sir</u>! We didn't know what the word was.</p> + +<p>"I never saw any slave funerals. Some slaves died, but I never saw any +of them buried. I didn't see any funerals at all.</p> + +<p>"The white folks would come down to the cabins to marry the slaves. The +master or mistress would read a little out of a book. That's all there +was to it.</p> + +<p>"We used to play a game called 'Hulgul'. We'd play it in the cabins and +sometimes with the white children. We'd hold hazelnuts in our hands. I'd +say 'Hulgul' How many? You'd guess. If you hit it right, you'd get them +all and it would be your turn to say 'Hulgul'. If you'd say 'Three!' and +I only had two, you'd have to give me another to make three.</p> + +<p>"The kids nowadays can go right to the store and buy a ball to play +with. We'd have to make a ball out of yarn and put a sock around it for +a cover. Six of us would stay on one side of a house and six on the +other side. Then we'd throw the ball over the roof and say 'Catch!' If +you'd catch it you'd run around to the; other side and hit somebody, +then start over. We worked so hard we couldn't play long on Sunday +evenings.</p> + +<p>"School? We never seen the inside of a schoolhouse. Mistress used to +read the Bible to us every Sunday morning.</p> + +<p>"We say two songs I still remember.</p> + +<pre> +"I think when I read that sweet story of old, +When Jesus was here among men, +How he called little children like lambs to his fold, +I should like to have been with them then. + +"I wish that his hands had been placed on my head, +That his arms had been thrown around me, +That I might have seen his kind face when he said +'Let the little ones come unto me.' + +"Yet still to his footstool in prayer I nay go +And ask for a share of his love, +And that I might earnestly seek Him below +And see Him and hear Him above. +</pre> + +<p>"Then there was another:</p> + +<pre> +"I want to be an angel +And with the angels stand +With a crown upon my Forehead +And a harp within my hand. + +"And there before my Saviour, +So glorious and so bright, +I'd make the sweetest music +And praise him day and night. +</pre> + +<p>"And as soon as we got through singing those songs, we had to get right +out to work. I was always glad when they called us in the house to +Sunday school. It was the only chance we'd get to rest.</p> + +<p>"When the slaves got sick, they'd take and look after themselves. My +master had a whole wall of his house for medicine, just like a store. +They made their own medicines and pills. My mistress's brother, Dr. Jim +Taylor, was a doctor. They done their own doctoring. I still have the +mark where I was vaccinated by my master.</p> + +<p>"People was lousy in them days. I always had to pick louses from the +heads of the white children. You don't find children like that nowadays.</p> + +<p>"My mistress had a little roan horse. She went all through the war on +that horse. Us little kids never went around the big folks. We didn't +watch folks faces to learn, like children do now. They wouldn't let us. +All I know about the Civil War was that it was goin' on. I heard talk +about killin' and so on, but I didn't know no thin' about it.</p> + +<p>"My mother was the last slave to get off the plantation. She travelled +across the plantation all night with us children. It was pouring rain. +The white folks surrounded her and took away us children, and gave her +so many minutes to get off the plantation. We never saw her again. She +died away from us.</p> + +<p>"My brother came to see us once when slavery was over. He was grown up. +My master wasn't going to let him see us and he took up his gun. My +mistress said he should let him see us. My brother gave me a little +coral ring. I thought it was the prettiest thing I ever saw.</p> + +<p>"I made my sister leave. I took a rolling pin to make her go and she +finally left. They didn't have any more business with us than you have +right now.</p> + +<p>"I remember when Yankee soldiers came riding through the yard. I was +scared and ran away crying. I can see them now. Their swords hung at +their sides and their horses walked proud, as if they walked on their +hind legs. The master was in the field trying to hide his money and guns +and things. The soldiers said, 'We won't hurt you, child.' It made me +feel wonderful.</p> + +<p>"What I call the Ku Klux were those people who met at night and if they +heard anybody saying you was free, they would take you out at night and +whip you. They were the plantation owners. I never saw them ride, but I +heard about them and what they did. My master used to tell us he wished +he knew who the Ku Kluxers were. But he knew, all right, I used to wait +on table and I heard them talking. 'Gonna lynch another nigger tonight!'</p> + +<p>"The slaves tried to get schools, but they didn't get any. Finally they +started a few schools in little log cabins. But we children, my sister +and I, never went to school.</p> + +<p>"I married William L. Davison, when I was thirty-two years old. That was +after I left the plantation. I never had company there. I had to +<u>work</u>. I have only one grandchild still living, Willa May +Reynolds. She taught school in City Grove, Tennessee. She's married now.</p> + +<p>"I thought Abe Lincoln was a great man. What little I know about him, I +always thought he was a great man. He did a lot of good.</p> + +<p>"Us kids always used to sing a song, 'Gonna hang Jeff Davis to a sour +apple tree as we go marchin' home.' I didn't know what it meant at the +time.</p> + +<p>"I never knew much about Booker T. Washington, but I heard about him. +Frederick Douglass was a great man, too. He did lots of good, like Abe +Lincoln.</p> + +<p>"Well, slavery's over and I think that's a grand thing. A white lady +recently asked me, 'Don't you think you were better off under the white +people?' I said 'What you talkin' about? The birds of the air have their +freedom'. I don't know why she should ask me that anyway.</p> + +<p>"I belong to the Third Baptist Church. I think all people should be +religious. Christ was a missionary. He went about doing good to people. +You should be clean, honest, and do everything good for people. I first +turn the searchlight on myself. To be a true Christian, you must do as +Christ said: 'Love one another'. You know, that's why I said I didn't +want to tell about my life and the terrible things that I and my sister +Mary suffered. I want to forgive those people. Some people tell me those +people are in hell now. But I don't think that. I believe we should all +do good to everybody."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DempseyMaryBelle"></a> +<h3>Betty Lugabell, Reporter [TR: also reported as Lugabill]<br> +Harold Pugh, Editor<br> +R.S. Drum, Supervisor<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore: Ex-Slaves<br> +Paulding Co., District 10<br> +<br> +MARY BELLE DEMPSEY<br> +Ex-Slave, 87 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>"I was only two years old when my family moved here, from <u>Wilford</u> +county, Kentucky. 'Course I don't remember anything of our slave days, +but my mother told me all about it."</p> + +<p>"My mother and father were named Sidney Jane and William Booker. I had +one brother named George William Booker."</p> + +<p>"The man who owned my father and mother was a good man." He was good to +them and never 'bused them. He had quite a large plantation and owned 26 +slaves. Each slave family had a house of their own and the women of each +family prepared the meals, in their cabins. These cabins were warm and +in good shape."</p> + +<p>"The master farmed his land and the men folks helped in the fields but +the women took care of their homes."</p> + +<p>"We had our churches, too. Sometimes the white folks would try to cause +trouble when the negroes were holding their meetings, then a night the +men of the church would place chunks and matches on the white folks gate +post. In the morning the white folks would find them and know that it +was a warning if they din't quit causing trouble their buildings would +be burned."</p> + +<p>"There was a farm that joined my parents' master's place and the owner +was about ready to sell the mother slave with her five small children. +The children carried on so much because they were to be separated that +the mistress bought them back although she had very little money to +spare."</p> + +<p>"I don't know any more slave stories, but now I am getting old, and I +know that I do not have long to live, but I'm not sorry, I am, ready to +go. I have lived as the Lord wants us to live and I know that when I die +I shall join many of my friends and relatives in the Lord's place. +Religion is the finest thing on earth. It is the one and only thing that +matters."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="EastNancy"></a> +<h3>Former Slave Interview, Special<br> +Aug 16, 1937<br> +<br> +Butler County, District #2<br> +Middletown <br> +<br> +MRS. NANCY EAST<br> +809 Seventeenth Ave., <br> +Middletown, Ohio</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Mammy" East, 809 Seventeenth Ave., Middletown, Ohio, rules a four-room +bungalow in the negro district set aside by the American Rolling Mill +Corporation. She lives there with her sons, workers in the mill, and +keeps them an immaculate home in the manner which she was taught on a +Southern plantation. Her house is furnished with modern electrical +appliances and furniture, but she herself is an anachronism, a personage +with no faith in modern methods of living, one who belongs in that vague +period designated as "befo' de wah."</p> + +<p>"I 'membahs all 'bout de slave time. I was powerful small but my mother +and daddy done tole me all 'bout it. Mother and daddy bofe come from +Vaginny; mother's mama did too. She was a weaver and made all our +clothes and de white folks clothes. Dat's all she ever did; just weave +and spin. Gran'mama and her chilluns was <u>sold</u> to the Lett fambly, +two brothers from Monroe County, Alabama. <u>Sole</u> jist like cows, +honey, right off the block, jist like cows. But they was good to they +slaves.</p> + +<p>"My mother's last name was Lett, after the white folks, and my daddy's +name was Harris Mosley, after his master. After mother and daddy +married, the Mosleys done bought her from the Letts so they could be +together. They was brother-in-laws. Den I was named after Miss Nancy. +Dey was Miss Nancy and Miss Hattie and two boys in the Mosleys. Land, +honey, they had a big (waving her hands in the air) plantation; a whole +section; and de biggest home you done ever see. We darkies had cabins. +Jist as clean and nice. Them Mosleys, they had a grist mill and a gin. +They like my daddy and he worked in de mill for them. Dey sure was good +to us. My mother worked on de place for Miss Nancy."</p> + +<p>Mammy East, in a neat, voile dress and little pig-tails all over her +head, is a tall, light-skinned Negro, who admits that she would much +rather care for children than attend to the other duties of the little +house she owns; but the white spreads on the beds and the spotless +kitchen is no indication of this fact. She has a passion for the good +old times when the Negroes had security with no responsibility. Her +tall, statuesque appearance is in direct contrast to the present-day +conception of old southern "mammmies."</p> + +<p>"De wah, honey? Why, when dem Yankees come through our county mother and +Miss Nancy and de rest hid de hosses in de swamps and hid other things +in the house, but dey got all the cattle and hogs. Killed 'em, but only +took the hams. Killed all de chickens and things, too. But dey didn't +hurt the house.</p> + +<p>"After de wah, everybody jist went on working same as ever. Then one day +a white mans come riding through the county and tole us we was free. +<u>Free!</u> Honey, did yo' hear <u>that</u>? Why we always had been +free. He didn't know what he was talking 'bout. He kept telling us we +was free and dat we oughtn't to work for no white folks 'less'n we got +paid for it. Well Miss Nancy took care of us then. We got our cabin and +a piece of ground for a garden and a share of de crops. Daddy worked in +de mill. Miss Nancy saw to it that we always had nice clothes too.</p> + +<p>"Ku Klux, honey? Why, we nevah did hear tell of no sich thing where we +was. Nevah heered nothin' 'bout dat atall until we come up here, and dey +had em here. Law, honey, folks don't know when dey's well off. My daddy +worked in de mill and save his money, and twelve yeahs aftah de wah he +bought two hundred and twenty acres of land, 'bout ten miles away. Den +latah on daddy bought de mill from de Mosleys too. Yas'm, my daddy was +well off.</p> + +<p>"My, you had to be somebody to votes. I sure do 'membahs all 'bout dat. +You had to be edicated and have money to votes. But I don' 'membahs no +trouble 'bout de votin'. Not where we come from, no how.</p> + +<p>"I was married down dere. Mah husband's fust name was Monroe after the +county we lived in. My chilluns was named aftah some of the Mosleys. I +got a Ed and Hattie. Aftah my daddy died we each got forty acahs. I sold +mine and come up here to live with my boys.</p> + +<p>"But honey dis ain't no way to raise chilluns. Not lak dey raised now. +All dis dishonesty and stealin' and laziness. <u>No mam!</u> Look here +at my gran'sons. Eatin' offen dey daddy. No place for 'em. Got +edication, and caint git no jobs outside cuttin' grass and de like. Down +on de plantation ev'body worked. No laziness er 'oneriness, er nothin! I +tells yo' honey, I sure do wish these chilluns had de chances we had. +Not much learnin', but we had up-bringin'! Look at dem chilluns across +de street. Jist had a big fight ovah dere, and dey mothah's too lazy to +do any thing 'bout it. No'm, nevah did see none o' dat when we was +young. Gittin' in de folkeses hen houses and stealing, and de carryins +on at night. <u>No mam!</u> I sure do wish de old times was here.</p> + +<p>"I went back two-three yeahs ago, to de old home place, and dere it was, +jist same as when I was livin' with Miss Nancy. Co'se, theys all dead +and gone now, but some of the gran'chilluns was around. Yas'm, I membahs +heap bout dem times."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="GlennWade"></a> +<h3>Miriam Logan, Reporter<br> +Lebanon, Ohio<br> +<br> +Warren County, District 21<br> +<br> +Story of WADE GLENN from Winston-Salem North Carolina:<br> +(doesn't know his age)</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Yes Madam, I were a slave—I'm old enough to have been born into +slavery, but I was only a baby slave, for I do not remember about +slavery, I've just heard them tell about it. My Mammy were Lydia Glenn, +and father were Caesar Glenn, for they belonged to old Glenn. I've heard +tell he were a mean man too. My birthday is October 30th—but what +year—I don't know. There were eight brothers and two sisters. We lived +on John Beck's farm—a big farm, and the first work for me to do was +picking up chips o' wood, and lookin' after hogs.</p> + +<p>"In those days they'd all kinds of work by hand on the farm. No Madam, +no cotton to speak of, or tobacco <u>then</u>. Just farmin' corn, hogs, +wheat fruit,—like here. Yes Madam, that was all on John Beck's farm +except the flax and the big wooley sheep. Plenty of nice clean +flax-cloth suits we all had.</p> + +<p>"Beck wasn't so good—but we had enough to eat, wear, and could have our +Saturday afternoon to go to town, and Sunday for church. We sho did have +church, large meetin'—camp meetin'—with lot of singin' an shoutin' and +it was fine! Nevah was no singer, but I was a good dancer in my day, +yes—yes Madam I were a good dancer. I went to dances and to church with +my folks. My father played a violin. He played well, so did my brother, +but I never did play or sing. Mammy sang a lot when she was spinning and +weaving. She sing an' that big wheel a turnin.'</p> + +<pre> +"When I can read my title clear, +Up Yonder, Up Yonder, Up Yonder! +</pre> + +<p>and another of her spinnin' songs was a humin:—</p> + +<pre> +"The Promise of God Salvation free to give..." +</pre> + +<p>"Besides helpin' on the farm, father was ferryman on the Yadkin River +for Beck. He had a boat for hire. Sometimes passengers would want to go +a mile, sometimes 30. Father died at thirty-five. He played the violin +fine. My brother played for dances, and he used to sing lots of songs:—</p> + +<pre> +"Ol' Aunt Katy, fine ol' soul, +She's beatin' her batter, +In a brand new bowl... +</pre> + +<p>—that was a fetchin' tune, but you see I can't even carry it. Maybe I +could think up the words of a lot of those ol' tunes but they ought to +pay well for them, for they make money out of them. I liked to go to +church and to dances both. For a big church to sing I like 'Nearer My +God to Thee'—there isn't anything so good for a big crowd to sing out +big!</p> + +<p>"Father died when he was thirty-five of typhoid. We all had to work +hard. I came up here in 1892—and I don't know why I should have, for +Winston-Salem was a big place. I've worked on farm and roads. My wife +died ten years ago. We adopted a girl in Tennennesee years ago, and she +takes a care of me now. She was always good to us—a good girl. Yes, +Madam."</p> + +<p>Wade Glenn proved to be not nearly so interesting as his appearance +promised. He is short; wears gold rimmed glasses; a Southern Colonel's +Mustache and Goatee—and capitals are need to describe the style! He had +his comical-serious little countenance topped off with a soft felt hat +worn at the most rakish angle. He can't carry a tune, and really is not +musical. His adopted daughter with whom he lives is rated the town's +best colored cook.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="HallDavidA"></a> +<h3>Ohio Guide, Special<br> +Ex-Slave Stories<br> +August 16, 1937<br> +<br> +DAVID A. HALL</h3> +<br> + +<p>"I was born at Goldsboro, N.C., July 25, 1847. I never knew who owned my +father, but my mother's master's name was Lifich Pamer. My mother did +not live on the plantation but had a little cabin in town. You see, she +worked as a cook in the hotel and her master wanted her to live close to +her work. I was born in the cabin in town.</p> + +<p>"No, I never went to school, but I was taught a little by my master's +daughter, and can read and write a little. As a slave boy I had to work +in the military school in Goldsboro. I waited on tables and washed +dishes, but my wages went to my master the sane as my mother's.</p> + +<p>"I was about fourteen when the war broke out, and remember when the +Yankees came through our town. There was a Yankee soldier by the name of +Kuhns who took charge of a Government Store. He would sell tobacco and +such like to the soldiers. He was the man who told me I was free and +then give me a job working in the store.</p> + +<p>"I had some brothers and sisters but I do not remember them—can't tell +you anything about them.</p> + +<p>"Our beds were homemade out of poplar lumber and we slept on straw +ticks. We had good things to eat and a lot of corn cakes and sweet +potatoes. I had pretty good clothes, shoes, pants and a shirt, the same +winter and summer.</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about the plantation as I had to work in town and +did not go out there very much. No, I don't know how big it was or how +many slaves there was. I never heard of any uprisings either.</p> + +<p>"Our overseer was 'poor white-trash', hired by the master. I remember +the master lived in a big white house and he was always kind to his +slaves, so was his wife and children, but we didn't like the overseer. I +heard of some slaves being whipped, but I never was and I did not see +any of the others get punished. Yes, there was a jail on the plantation +where slaves had to go if they wouldn't behave. I never saw a slave in +chains but I have seen colored men in the chain gang since the war.</p> + +<p>"We had a negro church in town and slaves that could be trusted could go +to church. It was a Methodist Church and we sang negro spirituals.</p> + +<p>"We could go to the funeral of a relative and quit work until it was +over and then went back to work. There was a graveyard on the +plantation.</p> + +<p>"A lot of slaves ran away and if they were caught they were brought back +and put in the stocks until they were sold. The master would never keep +a runaway slave. We used to have fights with the 'white trash' sometimes +and once I was hit by a rock throwed by a white boy and that's what this +lump on my head is.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we had to work every day but Sunday. The slaves did not have any +holidays. I did not have time to play games but used to watch the slaves +sing and dance after dark. I don't remember any stories.</p> + +<p>"When the slaves heard they had been set free, I remember a lot of them +were sorry and did not want to leave the plantation. No, I never heard +of any in our section getting any mules or land.</p> + +<p>"I do remember the 'night riders' that come through our country after +the war. They put the horse shoes on the horses backwards and wrapped +the horses feet in burlap so we couldn't hear them coming. The colored +folks were deathly afraid of these men and would all run and hide when +they heard they were coming. These 'night riders' used to steal +everything the colored people had—even their beds and straw ticks.</p> + +<p>"Right after the war I was brought north by Mr. Kuhns I spoke of, and +for a short while I worked at the milling trade in Tiffin and came to +Canton in 1866. Mr. Kuhns owned a part in the old flour mill here (now +the Ohio Builders and Milling Co.) and he give me a job as a miller. I +worked there until the end of last year, 70 years, and I am sure this is +a record in Canton. No, I never worked any other place.</p> + +<p>"I was married July 4, 1871 to Jennie Scott in Massillon. We had four +children but they are all dead except one boy. Our first baby—a girl +named Mary Jane, born February 21, 1872, was the first colored child +born in Canton. My wife died in 1926. No, I do not know when she was +born, but I do know she was not a slave.</p> + +<p>"I started to vote after I came north but did not ever vote in the +south. I do not like the way the young people of today live; they are +too fast and drink too much. Yes, I think this is true of the white +children the same as the colored.</p> + +<p>"I saved my money when I worked and when I quit I had three properties. +I sold one of these, gave one to my son, and I am living in the other. +No, I have never had to ask for charity. I also get a pension check +from, the mill where I worked so long.</p> + +<p>"I joined church simply because I thought it would make me a better man +and I think every one should belong. I have been a member of St. Paul's +A.M.E. church here in Canton for 54 years. Yesterday (Sunday, August 15, +1937) our church celebrated by burning the mortgage. As I was the oldest +member I was one of the three who lit it, the other two are the only +living charter members. My church friends made me a present yesterday of +$100.00 which was a birthday gift. I was 90 years old the 25th of last +month."</p> + +<p>Hall resides at 1225 High Ave., S.W., Canton, Ohio.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="HendersonCelia"></a> +<h3>Miriam Logan<br> +Lebanon, Ohio<br> +<br> +MRS. CELIA HENDERSON, aged 88<br> +Born Hardin County, Kentucky in 1849</h3> + +<p>(drawing of Celia Henderson) [TR: no drawing found]</p> +<br> + +<p>"Mah mammy were Julia Dittoe, an pappy, he were name Willis Dittoe. Dey +live at Louieville till mammy were sold fo' her marster's debt. She were +a powerful good cook, mammy were—an she were sol' fo to pay dat debt."</p> + +<p>"She tuk us four chillen 'long wid her, an pappy an th' others staid +back in Louieville. Dey tuk us all on a boat de Big Ribber—evah heah ob +de big ribber? Mississippi its name—but we calls it de big ribber."</p> + +<p>"<u>Natchez on de hill</u>—dats whaah de tuk us to. Nactchez-on-de-hill +dis side of N' Or'leans. Mammy she have eleven chillen. No 'em, don't +'member all dem names no mo'. No 'em, nevah see pappy no moah. Im +'member mammy cryin' goin' down on de boat, and us chillen a cryin' too, +but de place we got us was a nice place, nicer den what we left. Family +'o name of GROHAGEN it was dat got us. Yas'em dey was nice to mammy fo' +she was a fine cook, mammy wus. A fine cook!"</p> + +<p>"Me? Go'Long! I ain't no sech cook as my mammy was. But mah boy, he were +a fine cook. I ain't nothin' of a cook. Yas'em, I cook fo Mis Gallagher, +an fo 4 o' de sheriffs here, up at de jail. But de fancy cookin' I ain't +much on, no'em I ain't. But mah boy an mammy now, dey was fine! Mah boy +cook at hotels and wealthy homes in Louieville 'til he died."</p> + +<p>"Dey was cotton down dere in Natchez, but no tobacco like up here. No +'em, I nevah wuk in cotton fields. I he'p mammy tote water, hunt chips, +hunt pigs, get things outa de col' house. Dat way, I guess I went to wuk +when I wuz about 7 or 8 yeahs ol'. Chillen is sma't now, an dey hafto be +taught to wuk, but dem days us culled chillen wuk; an we had a good time +wukin' fo dey wernt no shows, no playthings lak dey have now to takey up +day time, no'em."</p> + +<p>"Nevah no church fo' culled people does I 'member in Natchez. One time +dey was a drouth, an de water we hauls from way ovah to de rivah. Now +dat wuz down right wuk, a haulin dat water. Dey wuz an ol' man, he were +powerful in prayer, an gather de darkies unda a big tree, an we all +kneels down whilse he pray fo de po' beastes what needs good clean water +fo to drink. Dat wuz a putty sight, dat church meetin' under de big +tree. I alus member dat, an how, dat day he foun a spring wid he ol' +cane, jes' like a miracle after prayer. It were a putty sight to see mah +cows an all de cattle a trottin' fo dat water. De mens dey dug out a +round pond fo' de water to run up into outa de spring, an it wuz good +watah dat wudn't make de beastes sick, an we-all was sho' happy.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes'em, I'se de only one of mammy's chillen livin'. She had 11 chillen. +Mah gran'na on pappy's side, she live to be one hundred an ten yeah's +ol' powerful ol' ev'y body say, an she were part Indian, gran'ma were, +an dat made her live to be ol'.</p> + +<p>"Me? I had two husband an three chillen. Mah firs' husban die an lef' me +wid three little chillens, an mah secon' husban', he die 'bout six yeahs +ago. Ah cum heah to Lebanon about forty yeahs ago, because mah mammy +were heah, an she wanted me to come. When ah wuz little, we live nine +yeahs in Natchez on de hill. Den when de wah were ovah Mammy she want to +go back to Louieville fo her folks wuz all theah. Ah live in Louieville +til ah cum to Lebanon. All ah 'members bout de close o'de wah, wuz dat +white folks wuz broke up an po' down dere at Natchez; and de fus time ah +hears de EMANICAPTION read out dey was a lot o' prancin 'roun, an a big +time."</p> + +<p>"Ah seen soldiers in blue down there in Natchez on de hill, oncet ah +seen dem cumin down de road when ah were drivin mah cows up de road. Ah +wuz scared sho, an' ah hid in de bushes side o' de road til dey went by, +don' member dat mah cows was much scared though." Mammy say 'bettah hide +when you sees sojers a-marchin by, so dat time a whole line o dem cum +along and I hide."</p> + +<p>"Down dere mammy done her cookin' outa doors, wid a big oven. Yo gits yo +fiah goin' jes so under de oven, den you shovels some fiah up on top de +oven fo to get you bakin jes right. Dey wuz big black kettles wid hooks +an dey run up an down like on pulleys ovah de oven stove. Den dere wuz +de col'house. No 'lectric ice box lak now, but a house under groun' +wheah things wuz kept jest as col' as a ice box. No'em don't 'member jes +how it were fix inside."</p> + +<p>"Yas'em we comes back to Louieville. Yes'em mah chillen goes to school, +lak ah nevah did. Culled teachers in de culled school. Yes'em mah +chillen went far as dey could take 'em."</p> + +<p>"Medicin? My ol' mammy were great fo herb doctorin' an I holds by dat +too a good deal, yas'em. Now-a-days you gets a rusty nail in yo foot an +has lockjaw. But ah member mammy—she put soot mix wid bacon fryin's on +mah foot when ah run a big nail inter it, an mah foot get well as nice!"</p> + +<p>"Long time ago ah cum heah to see mammy, Ah got a terrible misery. Ah +wuz asleep a dreamin bout it, an a sayin, "Mammy yo reckon axel grease +goin' to he'p it?" Den ah wake up an go to her wheahs she's sleepin an +say it.</p> + +<p>"What fo axel grease gointo hep?—an I tol her, an she say:—</p> + +<p>"Axel grease put on hot, wid red flannel goin'to tak it away chile."</p> + +<p>Ah were an ol' woman mahse'f den—bout fifty, but mammy she climb outa +bed an go out in de yard where deys an ol' wagon, an she scrapes dat +axel off, an heat it up an put it on wid red flannel. Den ah got easy! +Ah sho was thankful when dat grease an flannel got to wukin on me!</p> + +<p>"You try it sometime when you gets one o' dem col' miseries in de winter +time. But go 'long! Folks is too sma't nowadays to use dem good ol' +medicines. Dey jes' calls de Doctor an he come an cut 'em wide open fo +de 'pendycitus—he sho do! Yas'em ah has de doctor, ef ah needs him. Ah +has de rheumatism, no pain—ah jes gets stiffer, an' stiffer right +along."</p> + +<p>Mah sight sho am poor now. Ah cain't wuk no mo. Ah done ironin aftah ah +quit cookin—washin an ironin, ah likes a nice wash an iron the bes fo +wuk. But lasyear mah eyes done give out on me, an dey tell me not to +worry dey gointo give me a pension. De man goes to a heap o' wuk to get +dem papers fix jes right."</p> + +<p>"Yes 'em, I'se de on'y one o' mammy's chillen livin. Mah, gran'ma on +pappy's side, she live to be one hundred and ten yeah's ol—powerful ol +eve'ybody say. She were part Indian, gran' ma were, an dat made her to +be ol."</p> + +<p>"Yes'em, mos' I evah earn were five dollars a week. Ah gets twenty +dollars now, an pays eight dollars fo rent. We is got no mo'—ah +figgers—a wukin fo ourself den what we'd have wuz we slaves, fo dey +gives you a log house, an clothes, an yo eats all yo want to, an when +you <u>buys</u> things, maybe you doesn't make enough to git you what +you needs, wukin sun-up to sun down. No' em 'course ah isn't wukin +<u>now</u> when you gits be de hour—wukin people does now; but ah don't +know nothin 'but that way o'doin."</p> + +<p>"We weahs cotton cloths when ah were young, jes plain weave it were; no +collar nor cuffs, n' belt like store clothes. Den men's jes have a kinda +clothes like ... well, like a chemise, den some pantaloons wid a string +run through at de knees. Bare feet—yes'em, no shoes. Nevah need no coat +down to Natchez, no'em."</p> + +<p>"When we comes back to Louieville on de boat, we sleeps in de straw on +de flo' o' de boat. It gits colder 'n colder! Come big chunks ol ice +down de river. De sky am dark, an hit col' an spit snow. Ah wish ah were +back dere in Natchez dat time after de war were ovah! Yes'em, ah members +dat much."</p> + +<p>"Ah wuk along wid mammy til ah were married, den ah gits on by mahsef. +Manny she come heah to Lebanon wid de Suttons—she married Sam. Sutton's +pappy. Yes 'em dey wuz about 12 o'de fambly cum heah, an ah come to see +mammy,... den ah gits me wuk, an ah stays.</p> + +<p>"Cookin'? Yes'em, way meat is so high now, ah likes groundhog. Ground +hog is good eatin. A peddler was by wid groun' hog fo ten cents apiece. +Ground hog is good as fried chicken any day. You cleans de hog, an boils +it in salt water til its tender. Den you makes flour gravy, puts it on +after de water am drain off; you puts it in de oven wif de lid on an +bakes hit a nice brown. No 'em, don' like fish so well, nor coon, nor +possum, dey is too greasy. Likes chicken, groundhog an pork." Wid de +wild meat you wants plain boiled potatoes, yes'em Irish potatoes, sho +enough, ah heard o' eatin skunk, and muskrat, but ah ain't cookin em. +But ah tells you dat groun' hog is <u>good eatin</u>.</p> + +<p>"Ah were Baptized by a white minister in Louieville, an' ah been a +Baptist fo' sixty yeahs now. Yes'em dey is plenty o' colored churches in +Louisville now, but when I were young, de white folks has to see to it +dat we is Baptised an knows Bible verses an' hymns. Dere want no smart +culled preachers like Reverend Williams ... an dey ain't so many now."</p> + +<p>"Up to Xenia is de culled school, an dey is mo's smart culled folks, ol' +ones too—dat could give you-all a real story if you finds dem. But me, +ah cain't read, nor write, and don't member's nuthin fo de War no good."</p> + +<p>Celia is very black as to complexion; tall spare; has small grey eyes. +In three long interviews she has tried very hard to remember for us from +her youth and back through the years; it seems to trouble her that she +cannot remember more. Samuel Sutton's father married her mother. Neither +she or Samuel had the kind of a story to tell that I was expecting to +hear from what little I know about colored people. I may have tried to +get them on the songs and amusements of their youth too often, but it +seems that most that they knew was work; did not sing or have a very +good time. Of course I thought they would say that slavery was terrible, +but was surprised there too. Colored people here are used to having +white people come for them to work as they have no telephones, and most +white people only hire colored help by the day or as needed. Celia and +Samuel, old age pensioners, were very apoligetic because they are no +longer able to work.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="JacksonGeorge"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Bishop & Isleman<br> +Reporter: Bishop<br> +[HW: Revised]<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slaves.<br> +Jefferson County, District #5<br> +July 6, 1937<br> +<br> +GEORGE JACKSON<br> +Ex-Slave, 79 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>I was born in Loudon County, Virginny, Feb. 6, 1858. My mother's name +was Betsy Jackson. My father's name was Henry Jackson. Dey were slaves +and was born right der in Loudon County. I had 16 brothers and sisters. +All of dem is dead. My brothers were Henry, Richard, Wesley, John and +me; Sisters were Annie, Marion, Sarah Jane, Elizabeth, Alice, Cecila and +Meryl. Der were three other chillun dat died when babies.</p> + +<p>I can remember Henry pullin' me out of de fire. I've got scars on my leg +yet. He was sold out of de family to a man dat was Wesley McGuest. +Afterwards my brother was taken sick with small-pox and died.</p> + +<p>We lived on a big plantation right close to Bloomfield, Virginny. I was +born in de storeroom close to massa's home. It was called de weavin' +room—place where dey weaved cotton and yarn. My bed was like a little +cradle bed and dey push it under de big bed at day time.</p> + +<p>My grandfather died so my mother told me, when he was very old. My +grandmother died when se bout 96. She went blind fore she died. Dey were +all slaves.</p> + +<p>My father was owned by John Butler and my grandmother was owned by Tommy +Humphries. Dey were both farmers. My massa joined de war. He was killed +right der where he lived.</p> + +<p>When my father wanted to cum home he had to get a permit from his massa. +He would only cum home on Saturday. He worked on de next plantation +joinin' us. All us chillun and my mother belonged to Massa Humphries.</p> + +<p>I worked in de garden, hoein' weeds and den I washed dishes in de +kitchen. I never got any money.</p> + +<p>I eat fat pork, corn bread, black molasses and bad milk. The meat was +mostly boiled. I lived on fat meat and corn bread. I don't remember +eatin' rabbit, possum or fish.</p> + +<p>De slaves on our plantation did not own der own garden. Dey ate +vegetables out of de big garden.</p> + +<p>In hot weather I wore gean pants and shirt. De pants were red color and +shirt white. I wore heavy woolen clothes in de winter. I wore little +britches wid jacket fastened on. I went barefooted in de summer.</p> + +<p>De mistress scold and beat me when I was pullin' weeds. Sometimes I +pulled a cabbage stead of weed. She would jump me and beat me. I can +remember cryin'. She told me she had to learn me to be careful. I +remember the massa when he went to war. He was a picket in an apple +tree. A Yankee soldier spied and shot him out of de tree.</p> + +<p>I remember Miss Ledig Humphries. She was a pretty girl and she had a +sister Susie. She married a Mr. Chamlain who was overseer. Der were +Robert and Herbert Humphries. Dey were older dan me. Robert wuz about 15 +years old when de war surrender.</p> + +<p>De one that married Susie was de overseer. He was pretty rough. I don't +remember any white neighbors round at dat time.</p> + +<p>Der were 450 acres of de plantation. I can't remember all de slaves. I +know der were 80, odd slaves.</p> + +<p>Lots of mornings I would go out hours fore daylight and when it was cold +my feet would 'most freeze. They all knew dey had to get up in de +mornin'. De slaves all worked hard and late at night.</p> + +<p>I heerd some say that the overseer would take dem to de barn. I remember +Tom Lewis. Then his massa sold him to our massa he told him not to let +the overseer whip him. The overseer said he would whip him. One day Tom +did something wrong. The overseer ordered him to de barn. Tom took his +shirt off to get ready for de whippin' and when de overseer raised de +whip Tom gave him one lick wid his fist and broke de overseer's neck.</p> + +<p>Den de massa sold Tom to a man by de name of Joseph Fletcher. He stayed +with old man Fletcher til he died.</p> + +<p>Fore de slaves were sold dey were put in a cell place til next day when +dey would be sold. Uncle Marshall and Douglas were sold and I remember +dem handcuffed but I never saw dem on de auction block.</p> + +<p>I never knew nothin' bout de Bible til after I was free. I went to +school bout three months. I was 19 or 20 years old den.</p> + +<p>My uncle Bill heard dey were goin' to sell him and he run away. He went +north and cum back after de surrender. He died in Bluemont, Virginny, +bout four years ago.</p> + +<p>After de days work dey would have banjo pickin', singin' and dancin'. +Dey work all day Saturday and Saturday night those dat had wives to see +would go to see dem. On Sunday de would sit around.</p> + +<p>When Massa was shot my mother and dem was cryin'.</p> + +<p>When Slaves were sick one of the mammies would look after dem and dey +would call de doctor if she couldn't fix de sick.</p> + +<p>I remember de big battle dey fought for four days on de plantation. That +was de battle of Bull Run. I heard shootin' and saw soldiers shot down. +It was one of de worst fights of de war. It was right between Blue Ridge +and Bull Run mountain. De smoke from de shootin' was just like a fog. I +saw horses and men runnin' to de fight and men shot off de horses. I +heard de cannon roar and saw de locust tree cut off in de yard. Some of +de bullets smashed de house. De apple tree where my massa was shot from +was in de orchard not far from de house.</p> + +<p>De Union Soldiers won de battle and dey camped right by de house. Dey +helped demselves to de chickens and cut their heads off wid their +swords. Dey broke into de cellar and took wine and preserves.</p> + +<p>After de war I worked in de cornfield. Dey pay my mother for me in food +and clothes. But dey paid my mother money for workin' in de kitchen.</p> + +<p>De slaves were awful glad bout de surrender.</p> + +<p>De Klu Klux Klan, we called dem de paroles, dey would run de colored +people, who were out late, back home. I know no school or church or land +for negroes. I married in Farguar [HW: Farquhar] Co., state of Virginny, +in de county seat. Dat was in 1883. I was married by a Methodist +preacher in Leesburg. I did not get drunk, but had plenty to drink. We +had singin' and music. My sister was a religious woman and would not +allow dancin'.</p> + +<p>I have fourteen chillun. Four boys are livin' and two girls. All are +married. George, my oldest boy graduated from grade school and de next +boy. I have 24 grandchillun and one great grandson. John, my son is +sickly and not able to work and my daughter, Mamie has nine chillun to +support. Her husband doesn't have steady work.</p> + +<p>The grandchillun are doin' pretty well.</p> + +<p>I think Abraham Lincoln was a fine man. It was put in his mind to free +de colored people. Booker T. Washington was alright.</p> + +<p>Henry Logan, a colored man that lives near Bridgeport, Ohio is a great +man. He is a deacon in de Mt. Zion Baptist church. He is a plasterer and +liked by de colored and white people.</p> + +<p>I think it wuz a fine thing that slavery was finished. I don't have a +thing more than my chillun and dey are all poor. (A grandchild nearby +said, "We are as poor as church mice".) My chillun are my best friends +and dey love me.</p> + +<p>I first joined church at Upperville, Virginny. I was buried under de +water. I feel dat everybody should have religion. Dey get on better in +dis life, and not only in dis life but in de life to cum.</p> + +<p>My overseer wuz just a plain man. He wasn't hard. I worked for him since +the surrender and since I been a man. I was down home bout six yares ago +and met de overseer's son and he took me and my wife around in his +automobile.</p> + +<p>My wife died de ninth of last October (1936). I buried her in Week's +cemetery, near Bridgeport, Ohio. We have a family burial lot there. Dat +where I want to be buried, if I die around here.</p> +<br> + +<a name="JacksonGeorge2"></a> +<b>Description of GEORGE JACKSON</b> [TR: original "Word Picture" struck out] + +<p>George Jackson is about 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighs 145 lbs. He has +not done any manual labor for the past two years. He attends church +regularly at the Mt. Zion Baptist church. As he only attended school +about four months his reading is limited. His vision and hearing is fair +and he takes a walk everyday. He does not smoke, chew or drink +intoxicating beverages.</p> + +<p>His wife, Malina died October 9, 1936 and was buried at Bridgeport, +Ohio. He lives with his daughter-in-law whose husband forks for a junk +dealer. The four room house that they rent for $20 per month is in a bad +state of repairs and is in the midst of one of the poorest sections of +Steubenville.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="JemisonPerrySid"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Written by Bishop & Isleman<br> +Edited by Albert I. Dugen [TR: also reported as Dugan]<br> +<br> +Ex-Slaves<br> +Jefferson County, District #2<br> +<br> +PERRY SID JEMISON [TR: also reported as Jamison]<br> +Ex-Slave, 79 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>(Perry Sid Jemison lives with his married daughter and some of his +grand-children at 422 South Sixth Street, Steubenville, O.)</p> + +<p>"I wuz borned in Perry County, Alabama! De way I remember my age is, I +was 37 years when I wuz married and dat wuz 42 years ago the 12th day of +last May. I hed all dis down on papers, but I hab been stayin' in +different places de last six years and lost my papers and some heavy +insurance in jumpin' round from place to place.</p> + +<p>"My mudders name wuz Jane Perry. Father's name wuz Sid Jemison. Father +died and William Perry was mudders second husband.</p> + +<p>"My mudder wuz a Virginian and my father was a South Carolinian. My +oldest brodder was named Sebron and oldest sister wuz Maggie. Den de +next brudder wuz William, de next sister wuz named Artie, next Susie. +Dats all of dem.</p> + +<p>"De hol entire family lived together on the Cakhoba river, Perry County, +Alabama. After dat we wuz scattered about, some God knows where.</p> + +<p>"We chillun played 'chicken me craner crow'. We go out in de sand and +build sand houses and put out little tools and one thing and another in +der.</p> + +<p>"When we wuz all together we lived in a log hut. Der wuz a porch in +between and two rooms on each side. De porch wuz covered over—all of it +wuz under one roof.</p> + +<p>"Our bed wuz a wooden frame wid slats nailed on it. We jus had a common +hay mattress to sleep on. We had very respectable quilts, because my +mudder made them. I believe we had better bed covers dem days den we hab +des days.</p> + +<p>"My grandmother wuz named Snooky and my grandfather Anthony. I thought +der wasn't a better friend in all de world den my grandmother. She would +do all she could for her grandchildren. Der wuz no food allowance for +chillun that could not work and my grandmother fed us out of her and my +mudders allowance. I member my grandmudder giving us pot-licker, bread +and red syrup.</p> + +<p>"De furst work I done to get my food wuz to carry water in de field to +de hands dat wuz workin'. De next work after dat, wuz when I wuz large +enough to plow. Den I done eberything else that come to mind on de farm. +I neber earned money in dem slave days.</p> + +<p>"Your general food wuz such as sweet potatoes, peas and turnip greens. +Den we would jump out and ketch a coon or possum. We ate rabbits, +squirrels, ground-hog and hog meat. We had fish, cat-fish and scale +fish. Such things as greens, we boil dem. Fish we fry. Possum we parboil +den pick him up and bake him. Of all dat meat I prefar fish and rabbit. +When it come to vegetables, cabbage wuz my delight, and turnips. De +slaves had their own garden patch.</p> + +<p>"I wore one piece suit until I wuz near grown, jes one garment dat we +called et dat time, going out in your shirt tail. In de winter we had +cotton shirt with a string to tie de collar, instead of a button and +tie. We war den same on Sunday, excepting dat mudder would wash and iron +dem for dat day.</p> + +<p>"We went barefooted in de summer and in de winter we wore brogan shoes. +Dey were made of heavy stiff leather.</p> + +<p>"My massa wuz named Sam Jemison and his wife wuz named Chloe. Dey had +chillun. One of the boys wuz named Sam after his father. De udder wuz +Jack. Der wuz daughter Nellie. Dem wuz all I know bout. De had a large +six room building. It wuz weather boarded and built on de common order.</p> + +<p>"Dey hed 750 acres on de plantation. De Jemisons sold de plantation to +my uncle after the surrender and I heard him say ever so many times that +it was 750 acres. Der wuz bout 60 slaves on de plantation. Dey work hard +and late at night. Dey tole me dey were up fore daylight and in de +fields til dark.</p> + +<p>"I heard my mudder say dat the mistress was a fine woman, but dat de +marse was rigied [TR: rigid?].</p> + +<p>"De white folks did not help us to learn to read or write. De furst +school I remember dat wuz accessbile was foh 90 days duration. I could +only go when it wuz too wet to work in de fields. I wuz bout 16 years +when I went to de school.</p> + +<p>"Der wuz no church on de plantation. Couldn't none of us read. But after +de surrender I remember de furst preacher I ebber heard. I remember de +text. His name was Charles Fletcher. De text was "Awake thou dat +sleepeth, arise from de dead and Christ will give you life!" I remember +of one of de baptizing. De men dat did it was Emanuel Sanders. Dis wuz +de song dat dey sing: "Beside de gospel pool, Appointed for de poor." +Dat is all I member of dat song now.</p> + +<p>"I heard of de slaves running away to de north, but I nebber knew one to +do it. My mudder tole me bout patrollers. Dey would ketch de slaves when +dey were out late and whip and thress dem. Some of de owners would not +stand for it and if de slaves would tell de massa he might whip de +patrollers if he could ketch dem.</p> + +<p>"I knowed one colored boy. He wuz a fighter. He wuz six foot tall and +over 200 pounds. He would not stand to be whipped by de white man. Dey +called him Jack. Des wuz after de surrender. De white men could do +nothin' wid him. En so one day dey got a crowd together and dey shoot +him. It wuz a senation [TR: sensation?] in de country, but no one was +arrested for it.</p> + +<p>"De slaves work on Saturday afternoon and sometimes on Sunday. On +Saturday night de slaves would slip around to de next plantation and +have parties and dancin' and so on.</p> + +<p>"When I wuz a child I played, 'chicken me craner crow' and would build +little sand houses and call dem frog dens and we play hidin' switches. +One of de play songs wuz 'Rockaby Miss Susie girl' and 'Sugar Queen in +goin south, carrying de young ones in her mouth.'</p> + +<p>"I remember several riddles. One wuz:</p> + +<pre> +'My father had a little seal, +Sixteen inches high. +He roamed the hills in old Kentuck, +And also in sunny Spain. +If any man can beat dat, +I'll try my hand agin.' +</pre> + +<p>"One little speech I know:</p> + +<pre> +'I tumbled down one day, +When de water was wide and deep +I place my foot on the de goose's back +And lovely swam de creek.' +</pre> + +<p>"When I wuz a little boy I wuz follin' wid my father's scythe. It fell +on my arm and nearly cut if off. Dey got somethin' and bind it up. +Eventually after a while, it mended up.</p> + +<p>"De marse give de sick slaves a dose of turpentine, blue mass, caromel +and number six.</p> + +<p>"After de surrender my mother tole me dat the marse told de slaves dat +dey could buy de place or dey could share de crops wid him and he would +rent dem de land.</p> + +<p>"I married Lizzie Perry, in Perry County Alabama. A preacher married us +by the name of John Jemison. We just played around after de weddin' and +hed a good time til bedtime come, and dat wuz very soon wid me.</p> + +<p>"I am de father of seven chillun. Both daughters married and dey are +housekeepers. I have 11 grandchillun. Three of dem are full grown and +married. One of dem has graduated from high school.</p> + +<p>"Abraham Lincoln fixed it so de slaves could be free. He struck off de +handcuffs and de ankle cuffs from de slaves. But how could I be free if +I had to go back to my massa and beg for bread, clothes and shelter? It +is up to everybody to work for freedom.</p> + +<p>"I don't think dat Jefferson Davus wuz much in favor of liberality. I +think dat Booker T. Washington wuz a man of de furst magnitude. When it +come to de historiance I don't know much about dem, but according to +what I red in dem, Fred Douglas, Christopher Hatton, Peter Salem, all of +dem colored men—dey wuz great men. Christopher Hatton wuz de furst +slave to dream of liberty and den shed his blood for it. De three of dem +play a conspicuous part in de emancipation.</p> + +<p>"I think it's a good thing dat slavery is ended, for God hadn't intended +there to be no man a slave.</p> + +<p>"My reason for joining de church is, de church is said to be de furst +born, the general assembly of the living God. I joined it to be in the +general assembly of God.</p> + +<p>"We have had too much destructive religion. We need pure and undefiled +religion. If we had dat religion, conditions would be de reverse of that +dey are."</p> +<br> + +<p>(<b>Note:</b> The worker who interviewed this old man was impressed with his +deep religious nature and the manner in which there would crop out in +his conversation the facile use of such words as eventually, general, +accessible, etc. The interview also revealed that the old man had a +knowledge of the scripture. He claims to be a preacher and during the +conversation gave indications of the oratory that is peculiar to old +style colored preachers.)</p> +<br> + +<a name="JamisonPerrySid"></a> +<b>Word Picture of PERRY SID JAMISON and his Home</b> +[TR: also reported as Jemison] + +<p>Mr. Jamison is about 5'2" and weighs 130 pounds. Except for a slight +limp, caused by a broken bone that did not heal, necessitating the use +of a cane, he gets around in a lively manner. He takes a walk each +morning and has a smile for everybody.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamison is an elder in the Second Baptist Church and possesses a +deep religious nature. In his conversation there crops out the facile +use of such words as "eventually", "general", "accessible", and the +like. He has not been engaged in manual labor since 1907. Since then he +has made his living as an evangelist for the colored Baptist church.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamison says he does not like to travel around without something +more than a verbal word to certify who and what he is. He produced a +certificate from the "Illinois Theological Seminary" awarding him the +degree of Doctor of Divinity and dated December 15, 1933, and signed by +Rev. Walter Pitty for the trustees and S. Billup, D.D., Ph.D. as the +president. Another document was a minister's license issued by the +Probate court of Jefferson county authorizing him to perform marriage +ceremonies. He has his ordination certificate dated November 7, 1900, at +Red Mountain Baptist Church, Sloss, Alabama, which certifies that he was +ordained an elder of that church; it is signed by Dr. G.S. Smith, +Moderator. Then he has two letters of recommendation from churches in +Alabama and Chicago.</p> + +<p>That Mr. Jamison is a vigerous preacher is attested by other ministers +who say they never knew a man of his age to preach like he does.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamison lives with his daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Cookes, whose +husband is a WPA worker. Also living in the house is the daughter's son, +employed as a laborer, and his wife. Between them all, a rent of $28.00 +a month is paid for the house of six rooms. The house at 424 S. Seventh +Street, Steubenville, is in a respectable part of the city and is of the +type used by poorer classes of laborers.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamison's wife died June 4, 1928, and since then he has lived with +his daughter. In his conversation he gives indication of a latent +oratory easily called forth.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="KingJulia"></a> +<h3>K. Osthimer, Author<br> +<br> +Folklore: Stories From Ex-Slaves<br> +Lucas County, Dist. 9<br> +Toledo, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. JULIA KING of Toledo, Ohio.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Julia King resides at 731 Oakwood Avenue, Toledo, Ohio. Although +the records of the family births were destroyed by a fire years ago, +Mrs. King places her age at about eighty years. Her husband, Albert +King, who died two years ago, was the first Negro policeman employed on +the Toledo police force. Mrs. King, whose hair is whitening with age, is +a kind and motherly woman, small in stature, pleasing and quiet in +conversation. She lives with her adopted daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth King +Kimbrew, who works as an elevator operator at the Lasalle & Koch Co. +Mrs. King walks with a limp and moves about with some difficulty. She +was the first colored juvenile officer in Toledo, and worked for twenty +years under Judges O'Donnell and Austin, the first three years as a +volunteer without pay.</p> + +<p>Before her marriage, Mrs. King was Julia Ward. She was born in +Louisville, Kentucky. Her parents Samuel and Matilda Ward, were slaves. +She had one sister, Mary Ward, a year and a half older than herself.</p> + +<p>She related her story in her own way. "Mamma was keeping house. Papa +paid the white people who owned them, for her time. He left before Momma +did. He run away to Canada on the Underground Railroad.</p> + +<p>"My mother's mistress—I don't remember her name—used to come and take +Mary with her to market every day. The morning my mother ran away, her +mistress decided she wouldn't take Mary with her to market. Mamma was +glad, because she had almost made up her mind to go, even without Mary.</p> + +<p>"Mamma went down to the boat. A man on the boat told Mamma not to answer +the door for anybody, until he gave her the signal. The man was a +Quaker, one of those people who says 'Thee' and 'Thou'. Mary kept on +calling out the mistress's name and Mamma couldn't keep her still.</p> + +<p>"When the boat docked, the man told Mamma he thought her master was +about. He told Mamma to put a veil over her face, in case the master was +coming. He told Mamma he would cut the master's heart out and give it to +her, before he would ever let her be taken.</p> + +<p>"She left the boat before reaching Canada, somewhere on the Underground +Railroad—Detroit, I think—and a woman who took her in said: 'Come in, +my child, you're safe now.' Then Mama met my father in Windsor. I think +they were taken to Canada free.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember anything about grandparents at all.</p> + +<p>"Father was a cook.</p> + +<p>"Mother's mistress was always good and kind to her.</p> + +<p>"When I was born, mother's master said he was worth three hundred +dollars more. I don't know if he ever would have sold me.</p> + +<p>"I think our home was on the plantation. We lived in a cabin and there +must have been at least six or eight cabins.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Simon, who boarded with me in later years, was a kind of +overseer. Whenever he told his master the slaves did something wrong, +the slaves were whipped, and Uncle Simon was whipped, too. I asked him +why he should be whipped, he hadn't done anything wrong. But Uncle Simon +said he guessed he needed it anyway.</p> + +<p>"I think there was a jail on the plantation, because Mamma said if the +slaves weren't in at a certain hour at night, the watchman would lock +them up if he found them out after hours without a pass.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Simon used to tell me slaves were not allowed to read and write. +If you ever got caught reading or writing, the white folks would punish +you. Uncle Simon said they were beaten with a leather strap cut into +strips at the end.</p> + +<p>"I think the colored folks had a church, because Mamma was always a +Baptist. Only colored people went to the church.</p> + +<p>"Mamma used to sing a song:</p> + +<pre> +"Don't you remember the promise that you made, +To my old dying mother's request? +That I never should be sold, +Not for silver or for gold. +While the sun rose from the East to the West? + +"And it hadn't been a year, +The grass had not grown over her grave. +I was advertised for sale. +And I would have been in jail, +If I had not crossed the deep, dancing waves. + +"I'm upon the Northern banks +And beneath the Lion's paw, +And he'll growl if you come near the shore. +</pre> + +<p>"The slaves left the plantation because they were sold and their +children were sold. Sometimes their masters were mean and cranky.</p> + +<p>"The slaves used to get together in their cabins and tell one another +the news in the evening. They visited, the same as anybody else. +Evenings, Mamma did the washing and ironing and cooked for my father.</p> + +<p>"When the slaves got sick, the other slaves generally looked after them. +They had white doctors, who took care of the families, and they looked +after the slaves, too, but the slaves looked after each other when they +got sick.</p> + +<p>"I remember in the Civil War, how the soldiers went away. I seen them +all go to war. Lots of colored folks went. That was the time we were +living in Detroit. The Negro people were tickled to death because it was +to free the slaves.</p> + +<p>"Mamma said the Ku Klux was against the Catholics, but not against the +Negroes. The Nightriders would turn out at night. They were also called +the Know-Nothings, that's what they always said. They were the same as +the Nightriders. One night, the Nightriders in Louisville surrounded a +block of buildings occupied by Catholic people. They permitted the women +and children to exscape, but killed all the men. When they found out the +men were putting on women's clothes, they killed everything, women and +children, too. It was terrible. That must have been about eighty years +ago, when I was a very little girl.</p> + +<p>"There was no school for Negro children during slavery, but they have +schools in Louisville, now, and they're doing fine.</p> + +<p>"I had two little girls. One died when she was three years old, the +other when she was thirteen. I had two children I adopted. One died just +before she was to graduate from Scott High School.</p> + +<p>"I think Lincoln was a grand man! He was the first president I heard of. +Jeff Davis, I think he was tough. He was against the colored people. He +was no friend of the colored people. Abe Lincoln was a real friend.</p> + +<p>"I knew Booker T. Washington and his wife. I belonged to a society that +his wife belonged to. I think it was called the National Federation of +Colored Women's Clubs. I heard him speak here in Toledo. I think it was +in the Methodist church. He wanted the colored people to educate +themselves. Lots of them wanted to be teachers and doctors, but he +wanted them to have farms. He wanted them to get an education and make +something of themselves. All the prominent Negro women belonged to the +Club. We met once a year. I went to quite a few cities where the +meetings were held: Detroit, Cleveland, and Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>"The only thing I had against Frederick Douglass was that he married a +white woman. I never heard Douglass speak.</p> + +<p>"I knew some others too. I think Paul Lawrence Dunbar was a fine young +man. I heard him recite his poems. He visited with us right here several +times.</p> + +<p>"I knew Charles Cottrell, too. He was an engraver. There was a young +fellow who went to Scott High. He was quite an artist; I can't remember +his name. He was the one who did the fine picture of my daughter that +hangs in the parlor.</p> + +<p>"I think slavery is a terrible system. I think slavery is the cause of +mixing. If people want to choose somebody, it should be their own color. +Many masters had children from their Negro slaves, but the slaves +weren't able to help themselves.</p> + +<p>"I'm a member of the Third Baptist Church. None join unless they've been +immersed. That's what I believe in. I don't believe in christening or +pouring. When the bishop was here from Cleveland, I said I wanted to be +immersed. He said, 'We'll take you under the water as far as you care to +go.' I think the other churches are good, too. But I was born and raised +a Baptist. Joining a church or not joining a church won't keep you out +of heaven, but I think you should join a church."</p> + +<p>(Interview, Thursday, June 10, 1937.)</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="LesterAngeline"></a> +<h3>Story and Photo by Frank M. Smith<br> +<br> +Ex-Slaves<br> +Mahoning County, Dist. #5<br> +Youngstown, Ohio<br> +<br> +The Story of MRS. ANGELINE LESTER, of Youngstown, Ohio.</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_AL"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/alester.jpg' width='240' height='424' alt='Angeline Lester'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Angeline Lester lives at 836 West Federal Street, on U.S. Route +#422, in a very dilapidated one story structure, which once was a retail +store room with an addition built on the rear at a different floor +level.</p> + +<p>Angeline lives alone and keeps her several cats and chickens in the +house with her. She was born on the plantation of Mr. Womble, near +Lumpkin, Stewart County, Georgia about 1847, the exact date not known to +her, where she lived until she was about four years old. Then her father +was sold to a Dr. Sales, near Brooksville, Georgia, and her mother and a +sister two years younger were sold to John Grimrs[HW:?], who in turn +gave them to his newly married daughter, the bride of Henry Fagen, and +was taken to their plantation, near Benevolence, Randolph County, +Georgia.</p> + +<p>When the Civil War broke out, Angeline, her mother and sister were +turned over to Robert Smith, who substituted for Henry Fagen, in the +Confederate Army.</p> + +<p>Angeline remembers the soldiers coming to the plantation, but any news +about the war was kept from them. After the war a celebration was held +in Benevolence, Georgia, and Angeline says it was here she first tasted +a roasted piece of meat.</p> + +<p>The following Sunday, the negroes were called to their master's house +where they were told they were free, and those who wished, could go, and +the others could stay and he would pay them a fair wage, but if they +left they could take only the clothing on their back. Angeline said "We +couldn't tote away much clothes, because we were only given one pair of +shoes and two dresses a year."</p> + +<p>Not long after the surrender Angeline said, "My father came and gathered +us up and took us away and we worked for different white folks for +money". As time went on, Angeline's father and mother passed away, and +she married John Lester whom she has outlived.</p> + +<p>Angeline enjoys good health considering her age and she devotes her time +working "For De Laud". She says she has "Worked for De Laud in New +Castle, Pennsylvania, and I's worked for De Laud in Akron". She also +says "De Laud does not want me to smoke, or drink even tea or coffee, I +must keep my strength to work for De Laud".</p> + +<p>After having her picture taken she wanted to know what was to be done +with it and when told it was to be sent to Columbus or maybe to +Washington, D.C. she said "Lawsy me, if you had tol' me befo' I'd fixed +up a bit."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="McKimmKisey"></a> +<h3>Betty Lugabill, Reporter [TR: also reported as Lugabell]<br> +Harold Pugh, Editor<br> +R.S. Drum, Supervisor<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore: Ex-Slaves<br> +Paulding Co., District 10<br> +<br> +KISEY McKIMM<br> +Ex-Slave, 83 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>Ah was born in Bourbon county, sometime in 1853, in the state of +Kaintucky where they raise fine horses and beautiful women. Me 'n my +Mammy, Liza 'n Joe, all belonged to Marse Jacob Sandusky the richest man +in de county. Pappy, he belonged to de Henry Young's who owned de +plantation next to us.</p> + +<p>Marse Jacob was good to his slaves, but his son, Clay was mean. Ah +remembah once when he took mah Mammy out and whipped her cauz she forgot +to put cake in his basket, when he went huntin'. But dat was de las' +time, cauz de master heard of it and cussed him lak God has come down +from Hebbin.</p> + +<p>Besides doin' all de cookin' 'n she was de best in de county, mah Mammy +had to help do de chores and milk fifteen cows. De shacks of all de +slaves was set at de edge of a wood, an' Lawse, honey, us chillun used +to had to go out 'n gatha' all de twigs 'n brush 'n sweep it jes' lak a +floor.</p> + +<p>Den de Massa used to go to de court house in Paris 'n buy sheep an' +hogs. Den we use to help drive dem home. In de evenin' our Mammy took de +old cloes of Mistress Mary 'n made cloes fo' us to wear. Pappy, he come +ovah to see us every Sunday, through de summer, but in de winter, we +would only see him maybe once a month.</p> + +<p>De great day on de plantation, was Christmas when we all got a little +present from de Master. De men slaves would cut a whole pile of wood fo' +de fiah place 'n pile it on de porch. As long as de whole pile of wood +lasted we didn't hab to work but when it was gone, our Christmas was +ovah. Sometimes on Sunday afternoons, we would go to de Master's honey +room 'n he would gib us sticks of candied honey, an' Lawd chile was dem +good. I et so much once, ah got sick 'nough to die.</p> + +<p>Our Master was what white folks call a "miser". I remembah one time, he +hid $3,000, between de floor an' de ceilin', but when he went fur it, de +rats had done chewed it all up into bits. He used to go to de stock +auction, every Monday, 'n he didn't weah no stockings. He had a high +silk hat, but it was tore so bad, dat he held de top n' bottom to-gether +wid a silk neckerchief. One time when ah went wid him to drive de sheep +home, ah heard some of de men wid kid gloves, call him a "hill-billy" 'n +make fun of his clothes. But he said, "Don't look at de clothes, but +look at de man".</p> + +<p>One time, dey sent me down de road to fetch somethin' 'n I heerd a bunch +of horses comin', ah jumped ovah de fence 'n hid behind de elderberry +bushes, until dey passed, den ah ran home 'n tol' 'em what ah done seen. +Pretty soon dey come to de house, 125 Union soldiers an' asked fo' +something to eat. We all jumped roun' and fixed dem a dinnah, when dey +finished, dey looked for Master, but he was hid. Dey was gentlemen 'n +didn't botha or take nothin'. When de war was ovah de Master gave Mammy +a house an' 160 acre farm, but when he died, his son Clay tole us to get +out of de place or he'd burn de house an' us up in it, so we lef an' +moved to Paris. After I was married 'n had two children, me an my man +moved north an' I've been heah evah since.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="McMillanThomas"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Bishop & Isleman<br> +Reporter: Bishop<br> +July 7, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slaves.<br> +Jefferson County, District #5<br> +[HW: Steubenville]<br> +<br> +THOMAS McMILLAN, Ex-Slave<br> +(Does not know age)</h3> +<br> + +<p>I was borned in Monroe County, Alabam. I do not know de date. My +father's name was Dave McMillan and my mothers name was Minda. Dey cum +from Old Virginny and he was sold from der. We lived in a log house. De +beds hed ropes instead of slats and de chillun slept on de floor.</p> + +<p>Dey put us out in de garden to pick out weeds from de potatoes. We did +not get any money. We eat bread, syrup and potatoes. It wuz cooked in +pots and some was made in fire, like ash cakes. We hed possum lots of +times and rabbit and squirrel. When dey go fishin' we hed fish to eat. I +liked most anything they gave us to eat.</p> + +<p>In de summer we wore white shirt and pants and de same in de winter. We +wore brogans in de winter too.</p> + +<p>De Massa name wuz John and his wife died before I know her. He hed a boy +named John. He lived in a big house. He done de overseeing himself.</p> + +<p>He hed lots of acres in his plantation and he hed a big gang of slaves. +He hed a man to go and call de slaves up at 4 o'clock every morning. He +was good to his slaves and did not work them so late at night. I heard +some of de slaves on other plantations being punished, but our boss take +good care of us.</p> + +<p>Our Massa learn some of us to read and write, but some of de udder +massas did not.</p> + +<p>We hed church under a arbor. De preacher read de bible and he told us +what to do to be saved. I 'member he lined us up on Jordan's bank and we +sung behind him.</p> + +<p>De partrollers watch de slaves who were out at night. If dey have a pass +dey were alright. If not dey would get into it. De patrollers whip dem +and carry dem home.</p> + +<p>On Saturday afternoon dey wash de clothes and stay around. On Sunday dey +go to church. On Christmas day we did not work and dey make a nice meal +for us. We sometimes shuck corn at night. We pick cotton plenty.</p> + +<p>When we were chillun me other brudders and five sisters played marbles +together.</p> + +<p>I saw de blue jackets, dat's what we called de Yankee soldiers. When we +heard of our freedom we hated it because we did not know what it was for +and did not know where to go. De massa say we could stay as long as we +pleased.</p> + +<p>De Yankee soldier asked my father what dey wuz all doing around der and +that dey were free. But we did not know where to go. We stayed on wid de +massa for a long time after de war wuz over.</p> + +<p>De Klu Klux Klan wuz pretty rough to us and dey whip us. Der was no +school for us colored people.</p> + +<p>I wuz nearly 20 when I first took up with my first woman and lived with +her 20 years den I marry my present wife. I married her in Alabama and +Elder Worthy wuz de preacher. We had seven chillun, all grandchillun are +dead. I don't know where dey all are at excepting me daughter in +Steubenville and she is a widow. She been keepin' rooms and wash a +little for her living.</p> + +<p>I didn't hear much bout de politics but I think Abraham Lincoln done +pretty well. I reckon Jefferson Davis did the best he knowed how. Booker +T. Washington, I nebber seen him, but he wuz a great man.</p> + +<p>Religion is all right; can't find no fault with religion. I think all of +us ought to be religious because the dear Lord died for us all. Dis +world would be a better place if we all were religious.</p> +<br> + +<a name="McMillanThomas2"></a> +<b>Word Picture of MR. MCMILLAN</b> + +<p>Thomas McMillan, 909 Morris Ave., Steubenville, Ohio. He lives with his +wife, Toby who is over 50 years old. He makes his living using a hand +cart to collect junk. He is 5'6" tall and weighs 155 pounds. His beard +is gray and hair white and close cropped. He attends Mt. Zion Baptist +Church and lives his religion. He is able to read a little and takes +pleasure in reading the bible and newspaper.</p> + +<p>He has seven children. He has not heard of them for several years except +one daughter who lives in Steubenville and is a widow.</p> + +<p>His home is a three room shack and his landlord lets him stay there rent +free. The houses in the general surrounding are in a run down condition.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="MannSarah"></a> +<h3>Wilbur Ammon, Editor<br> +George Conn, Writer<br> +C.R. McLean, District Supervisor<br> +June 16, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore<br> +Summit County, District #9<br> +<br> +SARAH MANN</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Mann places her birth sometime in 1861 during the first year of the +Civil War, on a plantation owned by Dick Belcher, about thirty miles +southwest of Richmond, Virginia.</p> + +<p>Her father, Frederick Green, was owned by Belcher and her mother, Mandy +Booker, by Race Booker on an adjoining plantation. Her grandparents were +slaves of Race Booker.</p> + +<p>After the slaves were freed she went with her parents to Clover Hill, a +small hamlet, where she worked out as a servant until she married +Beverly Mann. Rev. Mike Vason, a white minister, performed the ceremony +with, only her parents and a few friends present. At the close of the +ceremony, the preacher asked if they would "live together as Isaac and +Rebecca did." Upon receiving a satisfactory reply, he pronounced them +man and wife.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Mann were of a party of more than 100 ex-slaves who left +Richmond in 1880 for Silver Creek where Mr. Mann worked in the coal +mines. Two years later they moved to Wadsworth where their first child +was born.</p> + +<p>In 1883 they came to Akron. Mr. Mann, working as laborer, was able to +purchase two houses on Furnace Street, the oldest and now one of the +poorer negro sections of the city. It is situated on a high bluff +overlooking the Little Cuyahoga River.</p> + +<p>Today Mrs. Mann, her daughter, a son-in-law and one grandchild occupy +one of the houses. Three children were born to Mr. and Mrs. Mann, but +only one is living. Mr. Mann, a deacon in the church, died three years +ago. Time has laid its heavy hand on her property. It is the average +home of colored people living in this section, two stories, small front +yeard, enclosed with wooden picket fence. A large coal stove in front +room furnishes heat. In recent years electricity has supplanted the +overhead oil lamp.</p> + +<p>Most of the furnishings were purchased in early married life. They are +somewhat worn but arranged in orderly manner and are clean.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mann is tall and angular. Her hair is streaked with gray, her face +thin, with eyes and cheek bones dominating. With little or no southern +accent, she speaks freely of her family, but refrains from discussing +affairs of others of her race.</p> + +<p>She is a firm believer in the Bible. It is apparent she strives to lead +a religious life according to her understanding. She is a member of the +Second Baptist Church since its organization in 1892.</p> + +<p>Having passed her three score and ten years she is "ready to go when the +Lord calls her."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="MatheusJohnWilliams"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Bishop & Isleman<br> +Reporter: Bishop<br> +(Revision)<br> +July 8, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slaves<br> +Jefferson County, District #5<br> +<br> +JOHN WILLIAMS MATHEUS<br> +Ex-Slave, 77 years</h3> +<br> + +<p>"My mothers name was Martha. She died when I was eleven months old. My +mother was owned by Racer Blue and his wife Scotty. When I was bout +eleven or twelve they put me out with Michael Blue and his wife Mary. +Michael Blue was a brother to Racer Blue. Racer Blue died when I was +three or four. I have a faint rememberance of him dying suddenly one +night and see him laying out. He was the first dead person I saw and it +seemed funny to me to see him laying there so stiff and still."</p> + +<p>"I remember the Yankee Soldier, a string of them on horses, coming +through Springfield, W. Va. It was like a circus parade. What made me +remember that, was a colored man standing near me who had a new hat on +his head. A soldier came by and saw the hat and he took it off the +colored man's head, and put his old dirty one on the colored man's head +and put the nice new one on his own head."</p> + +<p>"I think Abraham Lincoln the greatest man that ever lived. He belonged +to no church; but he sure was Christian. I think he was born for the +time and if he lived longer he would have done lots of good for the +colored people."</p> + +<p>"I wore jeans and they got so stiff when they were wet that they would +stand up. I wore boots in the winter, but none in the summer."</p> + +<p>"When slavery was going on there was the 'underground railway' in Ohio. +But after the surrender some of the people in Ohio were not so good to +the colored people. The old folks told me they were stoned when they +came across the river to Ohio after the surrender and that the colored +people were treated like cats and dogs."</p> + +<p>"Mary Blue had two daughters, both a little older than me and I played +with them. One day they went to pick berries. When they came back they +left the berries on the table in the kitchen and went to the front room +to talk to their mother. I remember the two steps down to the room and I +came to listen to them tell about berry pickin'. Then their mother told +me to go sweep the kitchen. I went and took the broom and saw the +berries. I helped myself to the berries. Mary wore soft shoes, so I did +not hear her coming until she was nearly in the room. I had berries in +my hand and I closed my hand around the handle of the broom with the +berries in my hand. She says, 'John, what are you doin'? I say, +'nothin'. Den she say, 'Let me see your hand! I showed her my hand with +nothin' in it. She say, 'let me see the other hand! I had to show her my +hand with the berries all crushed an the juice on my hand and on the +handle of the broom."</p> + +<p>"Den she say; 'You done two sins'. 'You stole the berries!, I don't mind +you having the berries, but you should have asked for them. 'You stole +them and you have sinned. 'Den you told a lie! She says, 'John I must +punish you, I want you to be a good man; don't try to be a great man, be +a good man then you will be a great man! She got a switch off a peach +tree and she gave me a good switching. I never forgot being caught with +the berries and the way she talked bout my two sins. That hurt me worse +than the switching. I never stole after that."</p> + +<p>"I stayed with Michael and Mary Blue till I was nineteen. They were +supposed to give me a saddle and bridle, clothes and a hundred dollars. +The massa made me mad one day. I was rendering hog fat. When the +crackling would fizzle, he hollo and say 'don't put so much fire.' He +came out again and said, 'I told you not to put too much fire,' and he +threatened to give me a thrashing. I said, 'If you do I will throw rocks +at you.'"</p> + +<p>"After that I decided to leave and I told Anna Blue I was going. She +say, 'Don't do it, you are too young to go out into the world.' I say, I +don't care, and I took a couple of sacks and put in a few things and +walked to my uncle. He was a farmer at New Creek. He told me he would +get me a job at his brothers farm until they were ready to use me in the +tannary. He gave me eight dollars a month until the tanner got ready to +use me. I went to the tanner and worked for eight dollars a week. Then I +came to Steubenville. I got work and stayed in Steubenville 18 months. +Then I went back and returned to Steubenville in 1884."</p> +<br> + +<a name="MatheusJohnWilliam2"></a> +<b>Word Picture of JOHN WILLIAM MATHEUS</b> + +<p>Mr. John William Matheus is about 5'4" and weighs about 130 pounds. He +looks smart in his bank messenger uniform. On his sleeve he wears nine +stripes. Each stripe means five years service. Two years were served +before he earned his first strip, so that gives him a total of 47 years +service for the Union Savings Bank and Trust Company, Steubenville, +Ohio. He also wears a badge which designates him as a deputy sheriff of +Jefferson County.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matheus lives with his wife at 203 Dock Street. This moderate sized +and comfortable home he has owned for over 40 years. His first wife died +several years ago. During his first marriage nine children came to them. +In his second marriage one child was born.</p> + +<p>His oldest son is John Frederick Matheus. He is a professor at +[Charleston] [HW: West Virginia] State College Institute. He was born in +Steubenville and graduated from Steubenville High School. Later he +studied in Cleveland and New York. He speaks six languages fluently and +is the author of many published short stories.</p> + +<p>Two other sons are employed in the post office, one is a mail carrier +and the other is a janitor. His only daughter is a domestic servant.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matheus attended school in Springfield, W. Va., for four years. When +he came to Steubenville he attended night school for two winters. Mr. +Dorhman J. Sinclair who founded the Union Savings Bank and Trust Co., +employed Mr. Matheus from the beginning and in recognition of his loyal +service bequeated to Mr. Matheus a pension of fifty dollars per month.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matheus is a member of the office board of the Quinn Memorial A.M.E. +He has been an elder of that church for many years and also trustee and +treasure. He frequently serves on the jury. He is well known and highly +respected in the community.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="NelsonWilliam"></a> +<h3>Sarah Probst, Reporter<br> +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor<br> +<br> +Folklore: Ex-Slaves<br> +Meigs County, District Three<br> +<br> +MR. WILLIAM NELSON<br> +Aged 88</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Whar's I bawned? 'Way down Belmont Missouri, jes' cross frum C'lumbus +Kentucky on de Mississippi. Oh, I 'lows 'twuz about 1848, caise I wuz +fo'teen when Marse Ben done brung me up to de North home with him in +1862."</p> + +<p>"My Pappy, he wuz 'Kaintuck', John Nelson an' my mammy wuz Junis Nelson. +No suh, I don't know whar dey wuz bawned, first I member 'bout wuz my +pappy buildin' railroad in Belmont. Yes suh, I had five sistahs and +bruthahs. Der names—lets see—Oh yes—der wuz, John, Jim, George, Suzan +and Ida. No, I don't member nothin' 'bout my gran'parents."</p> + +<p>"My mammy had her own cabin for hur and us chilluns. De wuz rails stuck +through de cracks in de logs fo' beds with straw on top fo' to sleep +on."</p> + +<p>"What'd I do, down dar on plantashun? I hoed corn, tatahs, garden +onions, and hepped take cair de hosses, mules an oxen. Say—I could hoe +onions goin' backwards. Yessuh, I cud."</p> + +<p>"De first money I see wuz what I got frum sum soljers fo' sellin' dem a +bucket of turtl' eggs. Dat wuz de day I run away to see sum Yankee +steamboats filled with soljers."</p> + +<p>"Marse Dick, Marse Beckwith's son used to go fishin' with me. Wunce we +ketched a fish so big it tuk three men to tote it home. Yes suh, we +always had plenty to eat. What'd I like best? Corn pone, ham, bacon, +chickens, ducks and possum. My mammy had hur own garden. In de summah +men folks weah overalls, and de womins weah cotton and all of us went +barefooted. In de winter we wore shoes made on de plantashun. I wuzn't +married 'til aftah I come up North to Ohio."</p> + +<p>"Der wuz Marse Beckwith, mighty mean ol' devel; Miss Lucy, his wife, and +de chilluns, Miss Manda, Miss Nan, and Marse Dick, and the other son wuz +killed in der war at Belmont. Deir hous' wuz big and had two stories and +porticoes and den Marse Beckwith owned land with cabins on 'em whar de +slaves lived."</p> + +<p>"No suh, we didn't hab no driver, ol' Marse dun his own drivin'. He was +a mean ol' debel and whipped his slaves of'n and hard. He'd make 'em +strip to the waist then he's lash 'em with his long blacksnake whip. Ol' +Marse he'd whip womin same as men. I member seein' 'im whip my mammy +wunce. Marse Beckwith used the big smoke hous' for de jail. I neber see +no slaves sold but I have seen 'em loaned and traded off."</p> + +<p>"I member one time a slave named Tom and his wife, my mammy an' me tried +to run away, but we's ketched and brung back. Ol' Marse whipped Tom and +my mammy and den sent Tom off on a boat."</p> + +<p>"One day a white man tol' us der wuz a war and sum day we'd be free."</p> + +<p>"I neber heard of no 'ligion, baptizing', nor God, nor Heaven, de Bible +nor education down on de plantashun, I gues' dey didn't hab nun of 'em. +When Marse Ben brung me North to Ohio with him wuz first time I knowed +'bout such things. Marse Ben and Miss Lucy mighty good to me, sent me to +school and tole me 'bout God and Heaven and took me to Church. No, de +white folks down dar neber hepped me to read or write."</p> + +<p>"The slaves wus always tiahed when dey got wurk dim in evenins' so dey +usually went to bed early so dey'd be up fo' clock next mornin'. On +Christmas Day dey always had big dinna but no tree or gifts."</p> + +<p>"How'd I cum North? Well, one day I run 'way from plantashun and hunted +'til I filled a bucket full turtl' eggs den I takes dem ovah on river +what I hears der's sum Yankee soljers and de soljers buyed my eggs and +hepped me on board de boat. Den Marse Ben, he wuz Yankee ofser, tol 'em +he take cair me and he did. Den Marse Ben got sick and cum home and +brung me along and I staid with 'em 'til I wuz 'bout fo'ty, when I gets +married and moved to Wyllis Hill. My wife, was Mary Williams, but she +died long time 'go and so did our little son, since dat time I've lived +alone."</p> + +<p>"Yessuh, I'se read 'bout Booker Washington."</p> + +<p>"I think Abraham Lincoln wuz a mighty fine man, he is de 'Saint of de +colured race'."</p> + +<p>"Good day suh."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="SlimCatherine"></a> +<h3>WPA in Ohio<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Bishop & Isleman<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-Slaves<br> +Jefferson County, District #2<br> +<br> +MRS. CATHERINE SLIM<br> +Ex-slave, 87 years,<br> +939 N. 6th St., Steubenville</h3> +<br> + +<p>I wuz born in Rockingham, Virginny; a beautiful place where I cum from. +My age is en de courthouse, Harrisonburg, Virginny. I dunno de date of +my birth, our massa's wouldn't tell us our age.</p> + +<p>My mother's name wuz Sally. She wuz a colored woman and she died when I +wuz a little infant. I don't remember her. She had four chillun by my +father who wuz a white man. His name wuz Jack Rose. He made caskets for +de dead people.</p> + +<p>My mother had six chillun altogether. De name of de four by my father +wuz, Frances de oldest sister, Sarah wuz next, den Mary. I am de baby, +all three are dead cept me. I am very last one livin'.</p> + +<p>I had two half-brudders, dey were slaves too, John and Berwin. Berwin +wuz drowned in W. Va. He wuz bound out to Hamsburger and drowned just +after he got free. Dey did not sold infant slaves. Den dey bound out by +de court. John got free and went to Liberia and died after he got there. +He wuz my oldest brudder.</p> + +<p>I wuz bound out by de court to Marse Barley and Miss Sally. I had to git +up fore daylight and look at de clock wid de candle. I held up de candle +to de clock, but couldn't tell de time. Den dey ask me if de little hand +wuz on three mark or four mark. Dey wouldn't tell me de time but bye and +bye I learned de time myself.</p> + +<p>I asked de mistress to learn me a book and she sez, "Don't yo know we +not allowed to learn you niggers nothin', don't ask me dat no more. I'll +kill you if you do." I wuzn't goin' to ask her dat anymore.</p> + +<p>When I wuz ten years old I wuz doin' women's work. I learned to do a +little bit of eberthin'. I worked on de farm and I worked in de house. I +learned to do a little bit of eberthin'. On de farm I did eberthin' cept +plow.</p> + +<p>I lived in a nice brick house. En de front wuz de valley pike. It wuz +four and three-quarter miles to Harrisonburg and three and three-quarter +miles to Mt. Crawford. It wuz a lobley place and a fine farm.</p> + +<p>I used to sleep in a waggoner's bed. It wuz like a big bed-comfort, +stuffed with wool. I laid it on de floor and sleep on it wid a blanket +ober me, when I get up I roll up de bed and push it under de mistress's +bed.</p> + +<p>I earned money, but nebber got it. Dey wuz so mean I run away. I think +dey wuz so mean dat dey make me run away and den dey wouldn't heb to pay +de money. If I could roll up my sleeve I could show you a mark that cum +from a beatin' I had wid a cow-hide whip. Dey whip me for nothin'.</p> + +<p>After I run away I had around until the surrender cum. Eberybody cum to +life then. It wuz a hot time in de ole place when dey sezs freedom. The +colored ones jumped straight up and down.</p> + +<p>De feed us plenty. We had pork, corn, rabbit, dey hed eberythin' nice. +Dey made us stan' up to eat. Dey no low us sit down to eat. Der wuz bout +twenty or thirty slaves on de farm an some ob dem hed der own gardens. +Anythin' dey gib us to eat I liked. Dey had bees and honey.</p> + +<p>I wore little calico dress in de summer, white, red, and blue. Some hed +flowers and some hed strips. We went barefooted until Christmas. Den dey +gabe us shoes. De shoes were regular ole common shoes; not eben +calfskin. Dey weaved linen and made us our clothes. Dey hab sleeves, +plain body and little skirt. I hed two of dem for winter.</p> + +<p>I hab seen lots of slaves chained together, goin' south, some wuz +singin' and some wuz cryin'. Some hed dey chillun and some didn't.</p> + +<p>Dey took me to church wid dem and dey put me behind de door. Dey tole me +to set der till dey cum out. And when I see dem cumin' out to follow +behind and get into de carrage. I dursent say nothin'. I wuz like a +petty dog.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="SmallJennie"></a> +<h3>INTERVIEW OF EX-SLAVE FROM VIRGINIA<br> +Reported by Rev. Edward Knox<br> +Jun. 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Ex-slaves<br> +Guernsey County, District #2<br> +<br> +JENNIE SMALL<br> +Ex-slave, over 80 years of age</h3> +<br> + +<p>I was born in Pocahontas County, Virginia in the drab and awful +surroundings of slavery. The whipping post and cruelty in general made +an indelible impression in my mind. I can see my older brothers in their +tow-shirts that fell knee-length which was sometimes their only garment, +toiling laborously under a cruel lash as the burning sun beamed down +upon their backs.</p> + +<p>Pappy McNeal (we called the master Pappy) was cruel and mean. Nothing +was too hard, too sharp, or too heavy to throw at an unfortunate slave. +I was very much afraid of him; I think as much for my brothers' sakes as +for my own. Sometimes in his fits of anger, I was afraid he might kill +someone. However, one happy spot in my heart was for his son-in-law who +told us: "Do not call Mr. McNeal the master, no one is your master but +God, call Mr. McNeal, mister." I have always had a tender spot in my +heart for him.</p> + +<p>There are all types of farm work to do and also some repair work about +the barns and carriages. It was one of these carriages my brother was +repairing when the Yankees came, but I am getting ahead of my story.</p> + +<p>I was a favorite of my master. I had a much better sleeping quarters +than my brothers. Their cots were made of straw or corn husks. Money was +very rare but we were all well-fed and kept. We wore tow-shirts which +were knee-length, and no shoes. Of course, some of the master's +favorites had some kind of footwear.</p> + +<p>There were many slaves on our plantation. I never saw any of them +auctioned off or put in chains. Our master's way of punishment was the +use of the whipping post. When we received cuts from the whip he put +soft soap and salt into our wounds to prevent scars. He did not teach us +any reading or writing; we had no special way of learning; we picked up +what little we knew.</p> + +<p>When we were ill on our plantation, Dr. Wallace, a relative of Master +McNeal, took care of us. We were always taught to fear the Yankees. One +day I was playing in the yard of our master, with the master's little +boy. Some Yankee Soldiers came up and we hid, of course, because we had +been taught to fear the soldiers. One Yankee soldier discovered me, +however, and took me on his knee and told me that they were our friends +end not our enemies; they were here to help us. After that I loved them +instead of fearing them. When we received our freedom, our master was +very sorry, because we had always done all their work, and hard labor.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="SmithAnna"></a> +<h3>Geo. H. Conn, Writer<br> +Wilbur C. Ammon, Editor<br> +C.R. McLean, District Supervisor<br> +June 11, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore<br> +Summit County, District #5<br> +<br> +ANNA SMITH</h3> +<br> + +<p>In a little old rocking chair, sits an old colored "mammy" known to her +friends as "Grandma" Smith, spending the remaining days with her +grandchildren. Small of stature, tipping the scales at about 100 lbs. +but alert to the wishes and cares of her children, this old lady keeps +posted on current events from those around her. With no stoop or bent +back and with a firm step she helps with the housework and preparing of +meals, waiting, when permitted, on others. In odd moments, she like to +work at her favorite task of "hooking" rag rugs. Never having worn +glasses, her eyesight is the envy of the younger generation. She spends +most of the time at home, preferring her rocker and pipe (she has been +smoking for more than eighty year) to a back seat in an automobile.</p> + +<p>When referring to Civil War days, her eyes flash and words flow from her +with a fluency equal to that of any youngster. Much of her speech is +hard to understand as she reverts to the early idiom and pronunciation +of her race. Her head, tongue, arms and hands all move at the same time +as she talks.</p> + +<p>A note of hesitancy about speaking of her past shows at times when she +realizes she is talking to one not of her own race, but after eight +years in the north, where she has been treated courteously by her white +neighbors, that old feeling of inferiority under which she lived during +slave days and later on a plantation in Kentucky has about disappeared.</p> + +<p>Her home is comfortably furnished two story house with a front porch +where, in the comfort of an old rocking chair, she smokes her pipe and +dreams as the days slip away. Her children and their children are +devoted to her. With but a few wants or requests her days a re quiet and +peaceful.</p> + +<p>Kentucky with its past history still retains its hold. She refers to it +as "God's Chosen Land" and would prefer to end her days where about +eighty years of her life was spent.</p> + +<p>On her 101st birthday (1935) she posed for a picture, seated in her +favorite chair with her closest friend, her pipe.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln is as big a man with her today as when he freed her +people.</p> + +<p>With the memories of the Civil War still fresh in her mind and and +secret longing to return to her Old Kentucky Home, Mrs. Anna Smith, born +in May of 1833 and better known to her friends as "Grandma" Smith, is +spending her remaining days with her grandchildren, in a pleasant home +at 518 Bishop Street.</p> + +<p>On a plantation owned by Judge Toll, on the banks of the Ohio River at +Henderson, Ke., Anna (Toll) Smith was born. From her own story, and +information gathered from other sources the year 1835 is as near a +correct date as possible to obtain.</p> + +<p>Anna Smith's parents were William Clarke and Miranda Toll. Her father +was a slave belonging to Judge Toll. It was common practice for slaves +to assume the last name of their owners.</p> + +<p>It was before war was declared between the north and south that she was +married, for she claims her daughter was "going on three" when President +Lincoln freed the slaves. Mrs. Smith remembers her father who died at +the age of 117 years.</p> + +<p>Her oldest brother was 50 when he joined the confederate army. Three +other brothers were sent to the front. One was an ambulance attendant, +one belonged to the cavalry, one an orderly seargeant and the other +joined the infantry. All were killed in action. Anna Smith's husband +later joined the war and was reported killed.</p> + +<p>When she became old enough for service she was taken into the "Big +House" of her master, where she served as kitchen helper, cook and later +as nurse, taking care of her mistress' second child.</p> + +<p>She learned her A.B.C.'s by listening to the tutor teaching the children +of Judge Toll.</p> + +<p>"Grandma" Smith's vision is the wonder of her friends. She has never +worn glasses and can distinguish objects and people at a distance as +readily as at close range. She occupies her time by hooking rag rugs and +doing housework and cooking. She is "on the go" most of the time, but +when need for rest overtakes her, she resorts to her easy chair, a +pipeful of tobacco and a short nap and she is ready to carry on.</p> + +<p>Many instances during those terrible war days are fresh in her mind: men +and boys, in pairs and groups passing the "big house" on their way to +the recruiting station on the public square, later going back in squads +and companies to fight; Yankee soldiers raiding the plantation, taking +corn and hay or whatever could be used by the northern army; and +continual apprehension for the menfolk at the front.</p> + +<p>She remembers the baying of blood hounds at night along the Ohio River, +trying to follow the scent of escaping negroes and the crack of firearms +as white people, employed by the plantation owners attempted to halt the +negroes in their efforts to cross the Ohio River into Ohio or to join +the Federal army.</p> + +<p>Referring to her early life, she recalls no special outstanding events. +Her treatment from her master and mistress was pleasant, always +receiving plenty of food and clothing but never any money.</p> + +<p>In a grove not far from the plantation home, the slaves from the nearby +estates meet on Sunday for worship. Here under the spreading branches +they gathered for religious worship and to exchange news.</p> + +<p>When President Lincoln issued his proclamation freeing the slaves, and +the news reached the plantation, she went to her master to learn if she +was free. On learning it was true she returned to her parents who were +living on another plantation.</p> + +<p>She has been living with her grandchildren for the past nine years, +contented but ready to go when the "Good Lord calls her."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="StewartNan"></a> +<h3>Sarah Probst, Reporter<br> +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor<br> +Jun 9, 1937<br> +<br> +Folklore<br> +Meigs County, District Three<br> +[HW: Middeport]<br> +<br> +NAN STEWART<br> +Age 87</h3> +<br> + +<p>"I'se bawned Charl'stun, West Virginia in February 1850."</p> + +<p>"My mammy's name? Hur name wuz Kath'run Paine an' she wuz bawned down +Jackson County, Virginia. My pappy wuz John James, a coopah an' he wuz +bawned at Rock Creek, West Virginia. He cum'd ovah heah with Lightburn's +Retreat. Dey all crossed de ribah at Buffington Island. Yes, I had two +bruthahs and three sistahs. Deir wuz Jim, Thomas, he refugeed from +Charl'stun to Pum'roy and it tuk him fo' months, den de wuz sistah Adah, +Carrie an' Ella. When I rite young I wurked as hous' maid fo' numbah +quality white folks an' latah on I wuz nurs' fo' de chilluns in sum +homes, heah abouts."</p> + +<p>"Oh, de slaves quartahs, dey wuz undah de sam' ruf with Marse Hunt's big +hous' but in de back. When I'se littl' I sleeped in a trun'l bed. My +mammy wuz mighty 'ticlar an' clean, why she made us chilluns wash ouah +feets ebry night fo' we git into de bed."</p> + +<p>"When Marse Hunt muved up to Charl'stun, my mammy and pappy liv' in log +cabin."</p> + +<p>"My gran' mammy, duz I 'member hur? Honey chile, I shure duz. She wuz my +pappy's mammy. She wuz one hun'erd and fo' yeahs ol' when she die rite +in hur cheer. Dat mawhin' she eat a big hearty brekfast. One day I +'member she sezs to Marse Hunt, 'I hopes you buys hun'erds an' hun'erds +ob slaves an' neber sells a one. Hur name wuz Erslie Kizar Chartarn."</p> + +<p>"Marse an' missus, mighty kind to us slaves. I lurned to sew, piece +quilts, clean de brass an' irons an' dog irons. Most time I set with de +ol' ladies, an' light deir pipes, an' tote 'em watah, in gourds. I us' +tu gether de turkey eggs an' guinea eggs an' sell 'em. I gits ten cents +duzen fo' de eggs. Marse and Missus wuz English an' de count money like +dis—fo' pence, ha' penny. Whut I do with my money? Chile I saved it to +buy myself a nankeen dress."</p> + +<p>"Yes mam we always had plenty to eat. What'd I like bes' to eat, +waffl's, honey and stuffed sausage, but I spise possum and coon. Marse +Hunt had great big meat hous' chuck full all kinds of meats. Say, do you +all know Marse used to keep stuffed sausage in his smoke hous' fo' yeahs +an' it wuz shure powahful good when it wuz cooked. Ouah kitchin wuz big +an' had great big fiah place whur we'd bake ouah bread in de ashes. We +baked ouah corn pone an' biskets in a big spidah. I still have dat +spidah an' uses it."</p> + +<p>"By the way you knows Squire Gellison wuz sum fishahman an' shure to +goodness ketched lots ob fish. Why he'd ketch so many, he'd clean 'em, +cut 'em up, put 'em in half barrels an' pass 'em 'round to de people on +de farms."</p> + +<p>"Most de slaves on Marse Hunt's place had dir own garden patches. +Sumtimes dey'd have to hoe the gardens by moonlight. Dey sell deir +vegetables to Marse Hunt."</p> + +<p>"In de summah de women weah dresses and apruns made ob linen an' men +weah pants and shurts ob linen. Linsey-woolsey and jean wuz woven on de +place fo' wintah clothes. We had better clothes to weah on Sunday and we +weahed shoes on Sunday. The' shoes and hoots wuz made on de plantashun."</p> + +<p>"My mastah wuz Marse Harley Hunt an' his wife wuz Miss Maria Sanders +Hunt. Marse and Miss Hunt didn't hab no chilluns of der own but a nephew +Marse Oscar Martin and niece Miss Mary Hunt frum Missouri lived with +'em. Dey's all kind to us slaves. De Hous' wuz great big white frame +with picket fence all 'round de lot. When we lived Charl'stun Marse Hunt +wuz a magistrate. Miss Hunt's muthah and two aunts lived with 'em."</p> + +<p>"No mam, we didn't hab no ovahseeah. Marse Hunt had no use fo' +ovahseeahs, fact is he 'spise 'em. De oldah men guided de young ones in +deir labors. The poor white neighbahs wurn't 'lowed to live very close +to de plantashun as Marse Hunt wanted de culured slave chilluns to be +raised in propah mannah."</p> + +<p>"I duzn't know how many acres in de plantashun. Deir wuz only 'bout +three or fo' cabins on de place. Wurk started 'bout seben clock 'cept +harvest time when ebrybudy wuz up early. De slaves didn't wurk so hard +nor bery late at night. Slaves wuz punished by sendin' 'em off to bed +early.</p> + +<p>"When I'se livin' at Red House I seed slaves auctioned off. Ol' Marse +Veneable sold ten or lebin slaves, women and chilluns, to niggah tradahs +way down farthah south. I well 'members day Aunt Millie an' Uncl' Edmund +wuz sold—dir son Harrison wuz bought by Marse Hunt. 'Twuz shure sad an' +folks cried when Aunt Millie and Uncl' Edmund wuz tuk away. Harrison +neber see his mammy an' pappy agin. Slaves wuz hired out by de yeah fo' +nine hundred dollahs."</p> + +<p>"Marse Hunt had schools fo' de slaves chilluns. I went to school on +Lincoln Hill, too."</p> + +<p>"Culured preachahs use to cum to plantashun an' dey would read de Bible +to us. I 'member one special passage preachahs read an' I neber +understood it 'til I cross de riber at Buffinton Island. It wuz, 'But +they shall sit every man under his own vine and under his fig tree; and +none shall make them afraid; for the mouth of the Lord of Hosts hath +spoken it." Micah 4:4. Den I knows it is de fulfillment ob dat promis; +'I would soon be undah my own vine an' fig tree' and hab no feah of +bein' sold down de riber to a mean Marse. I recalls der wuz Thorton +Powell, Ben Sales and Charley Releford among de preachahs. De church wuz +quite aways frum de hous'. When der'd be baptizins de sistahs and +brethruns would sing 'Freely, freely will you go with me, down to the +riber'. 'Freely, freely quench your thirst Zion's sons and daughtahs'."</p> + +<p>"How wells I 'member when I wuz converted. I'd thought 'bout 'ligion a +lot but neber wunce wuz I muved to repent. One day I went out to cut sum +wood an' begin thinkin' agin and all wunce I feeled so relieved an' good +an' run home to tell granny an' de uthahs dat I'd cum out at last."</p> + +<p>"No, we didn't wurk on Saturday aftahnoons. Christmas wuz big time at +Marse Hunts hous'. Preparations wuz made fo' it two weeks fo' day cum. +Der wuz corn sings an' big dances, 'ceptin' at 'ligious homes. Der wuz +no weddins' at Marse Hunts, cause dey had no chilluns an' de niece and +nephew went back to own homes to git married."</p> + +<p>"We played sich games as marbles; yarn ball; hop, skip, an' jump; mumble +peg an' pee wee. Wunce I's asked to speak down to white chilluns school +an' dis is what I speak:</p> + +<pre> +'The cherries are ripe, +The cherries are ripe, +Oh give the baby one, +The baby is too little to chew, +The robin I see up in the tree, +Eating his fill and shaking his bill, +And down his throat they run.' +</pre> + +<p>Another one:</p> + +<pre> +'Tobacco is an Indian weed, +And from the devil doth proceed +It robs the pocket and burns the clothes +And makes a chimney of the nose.' +</pre> + +<p>"When de slaves gits sick, deir mammies luked af'er em but de Marse +gived de rem'dies. Yes, dere wuz dif'runt kinds, salts, pills, Castah +orl, herb teas, garlic, 'fedia, sulphah, whiskey, dog wood bark, +sahsaparilla an' apple root. Sometimes charms wuz used.</p> + +<p>"I 'member very well de day de Yankees cum. De slaves all cum a runnin' +an' yellin': "Yankees is cumin', Yankee soljers is comin', hurrah". Bout +two or three clock, we herd bugles blowing' an' guns on Taylah Ridge. +Kids wuz playin' an' all 'cited. Sumone sed: "Kathrun, sumthin' awful +gwine happen", an' sumone else sez; "De' is de Yankees". De Yankee mens +camp on ouah farm an' buyed ouah buttah, milk an' eggs. Marse Hunt, whut +you all call 'bilionist [HW: abolitionist] an' he wuz skeered of suthern +soljers an' went out to de woods an' laid behind a log fo' seben weeks +and seben days, den he 'cided to go back home. He sez he had a dream an' +prayed, "I had bettah agone, but I prayed. No use let des debils take +you, let God take you." We tote food an' papahs to Marse while he wuz a +hidin'."</p> + +<p>"One ob my prized possessions is Abraham Lincoln's pictures an' I'se +gwine to gib it to a culured young man whose done bin so kind to me, +when I'se gone. Dat's Bookah T. Washington's picture ovah thar."</p> + +<p>"I'se married heah in Middeport by Preachah Bill, 1873. My husban' wuz +Charles Stewart, son of Johnny Stewart. Deir wuz hous' full my own +folks, mammy, pappy, sistahs, bruthas, an' sum white folks who cumed in +to hep dress me up fo' de weddin'. We kep de weddin' a secrut an' my +aunt butted hur horns right off tryin' to fin' out when it wuz. My +husban' had to leave right away to go to his job on de boat. We had +great big dinnah, two big cakes an' ice cream fo' desurt. We had fo'teen +chilluns with only two livin'. I has five gran' sons an' two great gran' +daughters."</p> + +<p>"Goodbye—cum back agin."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="SuttonSamuel"></a> +<h3>Miriam Logan, Lebanon, Ohio<br> +Warren County, Dist. 2<br> +July 2, 1937<br> +<br> +Interview with SAMUEL SUTTON, Ex Slave.<br> +Born in Garrett County, Kentucky, in 1854</h3> + +<p>(drawing of Sutton) [TR: no drawing found]</p> +<br> + +<p>"Yes'em, I sho were bo'n into slavery. Mah mothah were a cook—(they was +none betteah)—an she were sold four times to my knownin'. She were part +white, for her fathah were a white man. She live to be seventy-nine +yeahs an nine months old."</p> + +<p>"Ah was bo'n in Garrett County, but were raised by ol' Marster Ballinger +in Knox County, an' ah don remember nothin 'bout Garrett County." When +Lincoln was elected last time, I were about eight yeahs ol'."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Marster own 'bout 400-acres, n' ah don' know how many slaves—maybe +30. He'd get hard up fo money n' sell one or two; then he'd get a lotta +work on hands, an maybe buy one or two cheap,—go 'long lak dat you +see." He were a good man, Ol' Mars Ballinger were—a preacher, an he wuk +hisse'f too. Ol' Mis' she pretty cross sometime, but ol' Mars, he +weren't no mean man, an ah don' 'member he evah whip us. Yes'em dat ol' +hous is still standin' on the Lexington-Lancaster Pike, and las time I +know, Baby Marster he were still livin."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Mars. tuk us boys out to learn to wuk when we was both right little +me and Baby Mars. Ah wuz to he'p him, an do what he tol' me to—an first +thing ah members is a learnin to hoe de clods. Corn an wheat Ol' Mars. +raised, an he sets us boys out fo to learn to wuk. Soon as he lef' us +Baby Mars, he'd want to eat; send me ovah to de grocery fo sardines an' +oysters. Nevah see no body lak oyster lak he do! Ah do n' lak dem. Ol +Mars. scold him—say he not only lazy hese'f, but he make me lazy too."</p> + +<p>"De Wah? Yes'em ah sees soldiers, Union Calvary [HW: Cavalry] goin' by, +dressed fine, wid gold braid on blue, an big boots. But de Rebels now, I +recollect dey had no uniforms fo dey wuz hard up, an dey cum in jes +common clothes. Ol' Mars., he were a Rebel, an he always he'p 'em. +Yes'em a pitched battle start right on our place. Didn't las' long, fo +dey wuz a runnin fight on to Perryville, whaah de one big battle to take +place in de State o' Kentucky, tuk place."</p> + +<p>"Most likely story I remembers to tell you 'bout were somepin made me +mad an I allus remember fo' dat. Ah had de bigges' fines' watermellon an +ah wuz told to set up on de fence wid de watermellon an show 'em, and +sell 'em fo twenty cents. Along cum a line o' soldiers."</p> + +<p>"Heigh there boy!... How much for the mellon?" holler one at me.</p> + +<p>"Twenty cents sir!" Ah say jes lak ah ben tol' to say; and he take dat +mellon right out o' mah arms an' ride off widout payin' me. Ah run after +dem, a tryin' to get mah money, but ah couldn't keep up wid dem soldiers +on hosses; an all de soldiers jes' laf at me."</p> + +<p>"Yes'em dat wuz de fines' big mellon ah evah see. Dat wuz right mean in +him—fine lookin gemman he were, at the head o' de line."</p> + +<p>"Ol' Marster Ballinger, he were a Rebel, an he harbors Rebels. Dey wuz +two men a hangin' around dere name o' Buell and Bragg."</p> + +<p>"Buell were a nawtherner; Bragg, he were a Reb."</p> + +<p>"Buell give Bragg a chance to get away, when he should have found out +what de Rebs were doin' an a tuk him prisoner ah heard tell about dat."</p> + +<p>"Dey wuz a lotta spyin', ridin' around dere fo' one thing and another, +but ah don' know what it were all about. I does know ah feels sorry fo +dem Rebel soldiers ah seen dat wuz ragged an tired, an all woe out, an +Mars. He fell pretty bad about everything sometimes, but ah reckon dey +wuz mean Rebs an southerners at had it all cumin' to em; ah allus heard +tell dey had it comin' to em."</p> + +<p>"Some ways I recollect times wuz lots harder after de War, some ways dey +was better. But now a culled man ain't so much better off 'bout votin' +an such some places yet, ah hears dat."</p> + +<p>"Yes'em, they come an want hosses once in awhile, an they was a rarin' +tarin' time atryin to catch them hosses fo they would run into the woods +befo' you could get ahold of 'em. Morgan's men come fo hosses once, an +ol Mars, get him's hosses, fo he were a Reb. Yes'em, but ah thinks them +hosses got away from the Rebels; seem lak ah heard they did."</p> + +<p>"Hosses? Ah wishes ah had me a team right now, and ah'd make me my own +good livin! No'em, don't want no mule. They is set on havin they own +way, an the contrariest critters! But a mule is a wuk animal, an eats +little. Lotsa wuk in a mule. Mah boy, he say, 'quit wukin, an give us +younguns a chance,' Sho nuf, they ain't the wuk they use to be, an the +younguns needs it. Ah got me a pension, an a fine garden; ain't it fine +now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes'em, lak ah tells you, the wah were ovah, and the culled folks had a +Big Time wid speakin'n everything ovah at Dick Robinsen's camp on de +4th. Nevah see such rejoicin on de Fourth 'o July since,-no'em, ah +ain't."</p> + +<p>"Ah seen two presidents, Grant an Hayes. I voted fo Hayes wen I wuz +twenty-two yeahs old. General Grant, he were runnin against Greeley when +ah heard him speak at Louieville. He tol what all Lincoln had done fo de +culled man. Yes'em, fine lookin man he were, an he wore a fine suit. +Yes'em ah ain't miss an election since ah were twenty-two an vote fo +Hayes. Ah ain't gonto miss none, an ah vote lak the white man read outa +de Emanicaption Proclamation, ah votes fo one ob Abe Lincoln's men ev'y +time—ah sho do."</p> + +<p>"<u>Run a way slaves?</u> No'em nevah know ed of any. Mars. Ballinger +neighbor, old Mars. Tye—he harbor culled folks dat cum ask fo sumpin to +eat in winter—n' he get 'em to stay awhile and do a little wuk fo him. +Now, he did always have one or two 'roun dere dat way,—dat ah +recollects—dat he didn't own. Maybe dey was runaway, maybe dey wuz just +tramps an didn't belong to noboddy. Nevah hear o' anybody claimin' +dem—dey stay awhile an wuk, den move on—den mo' cum, wuk while then +move on. Mars. Tye—he get his wuk done dat way, cheap.</p> + +<p>"No'em, don't believe in anything lak dat much. We use to sprinkle salt +in a thin line 'roun Mars. Ballinger's house, clear 'roun, to ward off +quarellin an arguein' an ol' Miss Ballinger gettin a cross spell,—dat +ah members, an then too;—ah don believe in payin out money on a Monday. +You is liable to be a spendin an a losin' all week if you do. Den ah +don' want see de new moon (nor ol' moon either) through, de branches o' +trees. Ah know' a man dat see de moon tru de tree branches, an he were +lookin' tru de bars 'a jail fo de month were out—an fo sumpin he nevah +done either,—jus enuf bad luck—seein a moon through bush."</p> + +<p>"Ah been married twice, an had three chillens. Mah oles' are Madge +Hannah, an she sixty yeah ol' an still a teachin' at the Indian School +where she been fo twenty-two yeahs now. She were trained at Berea in +High School then Knoxville; then she get mo' learnin in Nashville in +some course."</p> + +<p>"Mah wife died way back yonder in 1884. Then when ah gets married again, +mah wife am 32 when ah am 63. No'am, no mo' chillens. Ah lives heah an +farms, an takes care ob mah sick girl, an mah boy, he live across the +lane thah."</p> + +<p>"No'em, no church, no meetin hous fo us culled people in Kentucky befo' +de wah. Dey wuz prayin folks, and gets to meetin' at each othah's houses +when dey is sumpin a pushin' fo prayer. No'em no school dem days, fo +us." "Ol Mars., he were a preacher, he knowed de Bible, an tells out +verses fo us—dats all ah members. Yes'em Ah am Baptist now, and ah sho +do believe in a havin church."</p> + +<p>"Ah has wuked on steam boats, an done railroad labor, an done a lotta +farmin, an ah likes to farm best. Like to live in Ohio best. Ah can +<u>vote</u>. If ah gits into trouble, de law give us a chance fo our +property, same as if we were white. An we can vote lak white, widout no +shootin, no fightin' about it—dats what ah likes. Nevah know white men +to be so mean about anythin as dey is about votin some places—No'em, ah +don't! Ah come heah in 1912. Ah was goin on to see mah daughter Madge +Hannah in Oklahoma, den dis girl come to me paralized, an ah got me work +heah in Lebanon, tendin cows an such at de creamery, an heah ah is evah +since. Yes'em an ah don' wanto go no wheres else."</p> + +<p>"No'em, no huntin' no mo. Useto hunt rabbit until las yeah. They ain't +wuth the price ob a license no mo." No'em, ah ain't evah fished in +Ohio."</p> + +<p>"No'em, nevah wuz no singer, no time. Not on steamboats, nor nowheres. +Don't member any songs, except maybe the holler we useto set up when dey +wuz late wid de dinner when we wuked on de steamboat;—Dey sing-song lak +dis:"</p> + +<pre> +'Ol hen, she flew +Ovah de ga-rden gate, +Fo' she wuz dat hungrey +She jes' couldn't wait.' +</pre> + +<p>—but den dat ain't no real song."</p> + +<p>"Kentucky river is place to fish—big cat fish. Cat fish an greens is +good eatin. Ah seen a cat fish cum outa de Kentucky river 'lon as a man +is tall; an them ol' fins slap mah laig when ah carries him ovah mah +shoulder, an he tail draggin' on mah feet.—Sho nuf!"</p> + +<p>"No'em, ah jes cain't tell you all no cryin sad story 'bout beatin' an a +slave drivin, an ah don' know no ghost stories, ner nuthin'—ah is jes +dumb dat way—ah's sorry 'bout it, but ah Jes—is."</p> + +<p>Samuel Sutton lives in north lane Lebanon, just back of the French +Creamery. He has one acre of land, a little unpainted, poorly furnished +and poorly kept. His daughter is a huge fleshy colored woman wears a +turban on her head. She has a fixed smile; says not a word. Samuel talks +easily; answers questions directly; is quick in his movements. He is +stooped and may 5'7" or 8" if standing straight. He wears an old +fashioned "Walrus" mustache, and has a grey wooley fringe of hair about +his smooth chocolate colored bald head. He is very dark in color, but +his son is darker yet. His hearing is good. His sight very poor. Being +so young when the Civil War was over, he remembers little or nothing +about what the colored people thought or expected from freedom. He just +remembers what a big time there was on that first "Free Fourth of July."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="TolerRichard"></a> +<h3>Ruth Thompson, Interviewing<br> +Graff, Editing<br> +<br> +Ex-Slave Interviews<br> +Hamilton Co., District 12<br> +Cincinnati<br> +<br> +RICHARD TOLER<br> +515 Poplar St.,<br> +Cincinnati, O.</h3> +<br> +<a name="img_RT"></a> +<center><p> +<img src='images/rtoler.jpg' width='240' height='306' alt='Richard Toler'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>"Ah never fit in de wah; no suh, ah couldn't. Mah belly's been broke! +But ah sho' did want to, and ah went up to be examined, but they didn't +receive me on account of mah broken stomach. But ah sho' tried, 'cause +ah wanted to be free. Ah didn't like to be no slave. Dat wasn't good +times."</p> + +<p>Richard Toler, 515 Poplar Street, century old former slave lifted a bony +knee with one gnarled hand and crossed his legs, then smoothed his thick +white beard. His rocking chair creaked, the flies droned, and through +the open, unscreened door came the bawling of a calf from the building +of a hide company across the street. A maltese kitten sauntered into the +front room, which served as parlor and bedroom, and climbed complacently +into his lap. In one corner a wooden bed was piled high with feather +ticks, and bedecked with a crazy quilt and an number of small, +brightly-colored pillows; a bureau opposite was laden to the edges with +a collection of odds and ends—a one-legged alarm clock, a coal oil +lamp, faded aritifical flowers in a gaudy vase, a pile of newspapers. A +trunk against the wall was littered with several large books (one of +which was the family Bible), a stack of dusty lamp shades, a dingy +sweater, and several bushel-basket lids. Several packing cases and +crates, a lard can full of cracked ice, a small, round oil heating +stove, and an assorted lot of chairs completed the furnishings. The one +decorative spot in the room was on the wall over the bed, where hung a +large framed picture of Christ in The Temple. The two rooms beyond +exhibited various broken-down additions to the heterogeneous collection.</p> + +<p>"Ah never had no good times till ah was free", the old man continued. +"Ah was bo'n on Mastah Tolah's (Henry Toler) plantation down in ole +V'ginia, near Lynchburg in Campbell County. Mah pappy was a slave befo' +me, and mah mammy, too. His name was Gawge Washin'ton Tolah, and her'n +was Lucy Tolah. We took ouah name from ouah ownah, and we lived in a +cabin way back of the big house, me and mah pappy and mammy and two +brothahs.</p> + +<p>"They nevah mistreated me, neithah. They's a whipping the slaves all the +time, but ah run away all the time. And ah jus' tell them—if they +whipped me, ah'd kill 'em, and ah nevah did get a whippin'. If ah +thought one was comin' to me, Ah'd hide in the woods; then they'd send +aftah me, and they say, 'Come, on back—we won't whip you'. But they +killed some of the niggahs, whipped 'em to death. Ah guess they killed +three or fo' on Tolah's place while ah was there.</p> + +<p>"Ah nevah went to school. Learned to read and write mah name after ah +was free in night school, but they nevah allowed us to have a book in +ouah hand, and we couldn't have no money neither. If we had money we had +to tu'n it ovah to ouah ownah. Chu'ch was not allowed in ouah pa't +neithah. Ah go to the Meth'dist Chu'ch now, everybody ought to go. I +think RELIGION MUST BE FINE, 'CAUSE GOD ALMIGHTY'S AT THE HEAD OF IT."</p> + +<p>Toler took a small piece of ice from the lard can, popped it between his +toothless gum, smacking enjoyment, swished at the swarming flies with a +soiled rag handkerchief, and continued.</p> + +<p>"Ah nevah could unnerstand about ghos'es. Nevah did see one. Lots of +folks tell about seein' ghos'es, but ah nevah feared 'em. Ah was nevah +raised up undah such supastitious believin's.</p> + +<p>"We was nevah allowed no pa'ties, and when they had goin' ons at the big +house, we had to clear out. Ah had to wo'k hard all the time every day +in the week. Had to min' the cows and calves, and when ah got older ah +had to hoe in the field. Mastah Tolah had about 500 acres, so they tell +me, and he had a lot of cows and ho'ses and oxens, and he was a big +fa'mer. Ah've done about evahthing in mah life, blacksmith and stone +mason, ca'penter, evahthing but brick-layin'. Ah was a blacksmith heah +fo' 36 yea's. Learned it down at Tolah's.</p> + +<p>"Ah stayed on the plantation during the wah, and jes' did what they tol' +me. Ah was 21 then. And ah walked 50 mile to vote for Gen'l Grant at +Vaughn's precinct. Ah voted fo' him in two sessions, he run twice. And +ah was 21 the fust time, cause they come and got me, and say, 'Come on +now. You can vote now, you is 21.' And theah now—mah age is right +theah. 'Bout as close as you can get it.</p> + +<p>"Ah was close to the battle front, and I seen all dem famous men. Seen +Gen'l Lee, and Grant, and Abe Lincoln. Seen John Brown, and seen the +seven men that was hung with him, but we wasn't allowed to talk to any +of 'em, jes' looked on in the crowd. Jes' spoke, and say 'How d' do.'</p> + +<p>[HW: Harper's Ferry is not [TR: rest illegible]]</p> + +<p>"But ah did talk to Lincoln, and ah tol' him ah wanted to be free, and +he was a fine man, 'cause he made us all free. And ah got a ole histry, +it's the Sanford American History, and was published in +<u>17</u>84[HW:18?]. But ah don't know where it is now, ah misplaced it. +It is printed in the book, something ah said, not written by hand. And +it says, 'Ah am a ole slave which has suvved fo' 21 yeahs, and ah would +be quite pleased if you could help us to be free. We thank you very +much. Ah trust that some day ah can do you the same privilege that you +are doing for me. Ah have been a slave for many years.' (Note +discrepancy).</p> + +<p>"Aftah the wah, ah came to Cincinnati, and ah was married three times. +Mah fust wife was Nannie. Then there was Mollie. They both died, and +than ah was married Cora heah, and ah had six child'en, one girl and fo' +boys. (Note discrepancy) They's two living yet; James is 70 and he is +not married. And Bob's about thutty or fo'ty. Ah done lost al mah +rememb'ance, too ole now. But Mollie died when he was bo'n, and he is +crazy. He is out of Longview (Home for Mentally Infirm) now fo' a while, +and he jes' wanders around, and wo'ks a little. He's not [TR: "not" is +crossed out] ha'mless, he wouldn't hurt nobody. He ain't married +neithah.</p> + +<p>"After the wah, ah bought a fiddle, and ah was a good fiddlah. Used to +be a fiddlah fo' the white girls to dance. Jes' picked it up, it was a +natural gif'. Ah could still play if ah had a fiddle. Ah used to play at +our hoe downs, too. Played all those ole time songs—<u>Soldier's +Joy</u>, <u>Jimmy Long Josey</u>, <u>Arkansas Traveler</u>, and <u>Black +Eye Susie</u>. Ah remembah the wo'ds to that one."</p> + +<p>Smiling inwardly with pleasure as he again lived the past, the old Negro +swayed and recited:</p> + +<pre> +Black Eye Susie, you look so fine, +Black Eye Susie, ah think youah mine. +A wondahful time we're having now, +Oh, Black Eye Susie, ah believe that youah mine. + +And away down we stomp aroun' the bush, +We'd think that we'd get back to wheah we could push +Black Eye Susie, ah think youah fine, +Black Eye Susie, Ah know youah mine. +</pre> + +<p>Then, he resumed his conversational tone:</p> + +<p>"Befo' the wah we nevah had no good times. They took good care of us, +though. As pa'taculah with slaves as with the stock—that was their +money, you know. And if we claimed a bein' sick, they'd give us a dose +of castah oil and tu'pentine. That was the principal medicine cullud +folks had to take, and sometimes salts. But nevah no whiskey—that was +not allowed. And if we was real sick, they had the Doctah fo' us.</p> + +<p>"We had very bad eatin'. Bread, meat, water. And they fed it to us in a +trough, jes' like the hogs. And ah went in may shirt tail till I was 16, +nevah had no clothes. And the flo' in ouah cabin was dirt, and at night +we'd jes' take a blanket and lay down on the flo'. The dog was supe'ior +to us; they would take him in the house.</p> + +<p>"Some of the people I belonged to was in the Klu Klux Klan. Tolah had +fo' girls and fo' boys. Some of those boys belonged. And I used to see +them turn out. They went aroun' whippin' niggahs. They'd get young girls +and strip 'em sta'k naked, and put 'em across barrels, and whip 'em till +the blood run out of 'em, and then they would put salt in the raw pahts. +And ah seen it, and it was as bloody aroun' em as if they'd stuck hogs.</p> + +<p>"I sho' is glad I ain't no slave no moah. Ah thank God that ah lived to +pas the yeahs until the day of 1937. Ah'm happy and satisfied now, and +ah hopes ah see a million yeahs to come."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="WilliamsJulia"></a> +<h3>Forest H. Lees<br> +C.R. McLean, Supervisor<br> +June 10, 1937<br> +<br> +Topic: Folkways<br> +Medina County, District #5<br> +<br> +JULIA WILLIAMS, ex-slave</h3> +<br> + +<p>Julia Williams, born in Winepark, Chesterfield County near Richmond, +Virginia. Her age is estimated close to 100 years. A little more or a +little less, it is not known for sure.</p> + +<p>Her memory is becoming faded. She could remember her mothers name was +Katharine but her father died when she was very small and she remembers +not his name.</p> + +<p>Julia had three sisters, Charlotte, Rose and Emoline Mack. The last +names of the first two, Charlotte and Rose she could not recall.</p> + +<p>As her memory is becoming faded, her thoughts wander from one thing to +another and her speech is not very plain, the following is what I heard +and understood during the interview.</p> + +<p>"All de slaves work with neighbors; or like neighbors now-adays. I no +work in de fiel, I slave in de house, maid to de mistress."</p> + +<p>"After Yankees come, one sister came to Ohio with me."</p> + +<p>"The slaves get a whippin if they run away."</p> + +<p>"After Yankees come, my ole mother come home and all chillun together. I +live with gramma and go home after work each day. Hired out doin maid +work. All dis after Yankees come dat I live with gramma."</p> + +<p>"Someone yell, 'Yankees are comin',' and de mistress tell me, she say +'You mus learn to be good and hones'.' I tole her, 'I am now'."</p> + +<p>"No I nevah get no money foh work."</p> + +<p>"I allways had good meals and was well taken care of. De Mrs. she nevah +let me be sold."</p> + +<p>"Sho we had a cook in de kichen and she was a slave too."</p> + +<p>"Plantashun slaves had gahdens but not de house slaves. I allus had da +bes clothes and bes meals, anyting I want to eat. De Mrs. like me and +she like me and she say effen you want sompin ask foh it, anytime you +want sompin or haff to have, get it. I didn suffer for enythin befoh dim +Yankees come."</p> + +<p>"After de Yankees come even de house people, de white people didn get +shoes. But I hab some, I save. I have some othah shoes I didn dare go in +de house with. Da had wood soles. Oh Lawde how da hurt mah feet. One day +I come down stair too fas and slip an fall. Right den I tile de Mrs. I +couldn wear dem big heavy shoes and besides da makes mah feet so sore."</p> + +<p>"Bof de Mrs. and de Master sickly. An their chillun died. Da live in a +big manshun house. Sho we had an overseer on de plantashun. De poor +white people da live purty good, all dat I seed. It was a big +plantashun. I can't remember how big but I know dat it was sho big. Da +had lots an lots of slaves but I doan no zackly how many. Da scattered +around de plantashun in diffren settlements. De horn blew every mohnin +to wake up de fiel hans. Da gone to fiel long time foh I get up. De fiel +hans work from dawn till dark, but evabody had good eats on holidays. No +work jus eat and have good time."</p> + +<p>"Da whipp dem slaves what run away."</p> + +<p>"One day after de war was over and I come to Ohio, a man stop at mah +house. I seem him and I know him too but I preten like I didn, so I say, +'I doan want ter buy nothin today' and he says 'Doan you know me?' Den I +laugh an say sho I remember the day you wuz goin to whip me, you run +affer me and I run to de Mrs. and she wouldn let you whip me. Now you +bettah be careful or I get you."</p> + +<p>"Sho I saw slaves sole. Da come from all ovah to buy an sell de slaves, +chillun to ole men and women."</p> + +<p>"De slaves walk and travel with carts and mules."</p> + +<p>"De slaves on aukshun block dey went to highes bidder. One colored +woman, all de men want her. She sold to de master who was de highes +bidder, and den I saw her comin down de road singin 'I done got a home +at las!'. She was half crazy. De maste he sole her and den Mrs. buy her +back. They lef her work around de house. I used to make her work and +make her shine things. She say I make her shine too much, but she haff +crazy, an run away."</p> + +<p>"No dey didn help colored folks read and write. Effn dey saw you wif a +book dey knock it down on de floor. Dey wouldn let dem learn."</p> + +<p>"De aukshun allus held at Richmond. Plantashun owners come from all +states to buy slaves and sell them."</p> + +<p>"We had church an had to be dere every single Sunday. We read de Bible. +De preacher did the readin. I can't read or write. We sho had good +prayer meetins. Show nuf it was a Baptis church. I like any spiritual, +all of dem."</p> + +<p>"Dey batize all de young men and women, colored folks. Dey sing mos any +spirtual, none in paticlar. A bell toll foh a funeral. At de baptizen do +de pracher leads dem into de rivah, way in, den each one he stick dem +clear under. I waz gonna be batize and couldn. Eva time sompin happin an +I couldn. My ole mothah tole me I gotta be but I never did be baptize +when Ise young in de south. De othah people befoh me all batized."</p> + +<p>"A lot of de slaves come north. Dey run away cause dey didn want to be +slaves, like I didn like what you do and I get mad, den you get mad an I +run away."</p> + +<p>"De pattyroller was a man who watched foh de slaves what try to run +away. I see dem sneakin in an out dem bushes. When dey fine im de give +im a good whippin."</p> + +<p>"I nevah seed mush trouble between de whites and blacks when I live +dare. Effen dey didn want you to get married, they wouldn let you. Dey +had to ask de mastah and if he say no he mean it."</p> + +<p>"When de Yankees were a comin through dem fiels, dey sho was awful. Dey +take everythin and destroy what ever they could not take. De othah house +slave bury the valables in de groun so de soldiers couldn fine em."</p> + +<p>"One of the house slaves was allus havin her man comin to see her, so +one day affer he lef, when I was makin fun and laughin at her de +mistress she say, 'Why you picken on her?' I say, dat man comin here all +the time hangin round, why doan he marry her."</p> + +<p>"I was nevah lowed to go out an soshiate with de othah slaves much. I +was in de house all time."</p> + +<p>"I went to prayer meetins every Sunday monin and evenin."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes dey could have a good time in de evenin and sometimes day +couldn."</p> + +<p>"Chrismas was a big time for everyone. In the manshun we allus had roast +pig and a big feed. I could have anythin I want. New Years was the big +aukshun day. All day hollerin on de block. Dey come from all ovah to +Richmond to buy and sell de slaves."</p> + +<p>"Butchern day sho was a big time. A big long table with de pigs laid out +ready to be cut up."</p> + +<p>"Lots of big parties an dances in de manshun. I nevah have time foh +play. Mrs, she keep me busy and I work when I jus little girl and all +mah life."</p> + +<p>"Effen any slaves were sick dey come to de house for splies and medsin. +De Mrs. and Master had de doctor if things were very bad."</p> + +<p>"I'll nevah forget de soldiers comin. An old woman tole me de war done +broke up, and I was settin on de porch. De Mrs. she say, 'Julia you ant +stayin eneymore'. She tole me if I keep my money and save it she would +give me some. An she done gave me a gold breast pin too. She was rich +and had lots of money. After the war I wen home to my mother. She was +half sick and she work too hard. On de way I met one slave woman who +didn know she was even free."</p> + +<p>"The Yankees were bad!"</p> + +<p>"I didn get married right away. I worked out foh diffren famlies."</p> + +<p>"After de war dare was good schools in de south. De free slaves had land +effen dey knowed what to do with. I got married in the south to Richar +Williams but I didn have no big weddin. I had an old preacher what +knowed all bout de Bible, who married me. He was a good preacher. I was +de mothah of eight chillun."</p> + +<p>"Lincoln? Well I tell you I doan know. I didn have no thought about him +but I seed him. I work in de house all de time and didn hear much about +people outside."</p> + +<p>"I doan believe in ghosts or hants. As foh dancin I enjoy it when I was +young."</p> + +<p>"I cant read and I thought to myself I thought there was a change comin. +I sense that. I think de Lawd he does everythin right. De Lawd open my +way. I think all people should be religious and know about de Lawd and +his ways."</p> + +<p>Her husband came to Wadsworth with the first group that came from +Doylestown. The men came first then they sent for their families. Her +husband came first them sent for her and the children. They settled in +Wadsworth and built small shacks then later as times got better they +bought properties.</p> + +<p>This year is the 57th Anniversary of the Wadsworth Colored Baptist +Church of which Julia Williams was a charter member. She is very close +to 100 years old if not that now and lives at 160 Kyle Street, +Wadsworth, Ohio.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="WilliamsJulia2"></a> +<h3>Lees<br> +Ohio Guide, Special<br> +Ex-Slave Stories<br> +August 17, 1937<br> +<br> +JULIA WILLIAMS<br> +(Supplementary Story)</h3> +<br> + +<p>"After de War deh had to pick their own livin' an seek homes.</p> + +<p>"Shuah, deh expected de 40 acres of lan' an mules, but deh had to work +foh dem."</p> + +<p>"Shuah, deh got paht of de lan but de shuah had to work foh it.</p> + +<p>"After de war deh had no place to stay an den deh went to so many +diffrunt places. Some of dem today don't have settled places to live.</p> + +<p>"Those owners who were good gave their slaves lan but de othahs jus +turned de slaves loose to wander roun'. Othahs try to fine out where +dere people were and went to them.</p> + +<p>"One day I seed a man who was a doctor down dere, an' I says, 'You +doktah now?' An says 'No, I doan doktah no mow.' I work foh him once +when I was slave, few days durin de war. I say, 'Member that day you +gonna lick me but you didn', you know I big woman an fight back. Now de +war ovah and you can't do dat now'.</p> + +<p>"Slaves didn get money unless deh work for it. Maybe a slave he would +work long time before he get eny pay."</p> + +<p>"Lak you hire me an you say you goin to pay me an then you don't. Lots +of them hired slaves aftah de war and worked dem a long time sayin deh +gwine pay and then when he ask for money, deh drive him away instead of +payin him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, some of de slaves were force to stay on de plantation. I see how +some had to live." "They had homes for awhile but when deh wasen't able +to pay dere rent cause deh weren't paid, deh were thrown out of dere +houses." Some of dem didn't know when deh were free till long time after +de Wah.</p> + +<p>"When I were free, one mornin I seed the mistress and she ask me would I +stay with her a couple years. I say, 'No I gonna find mah people an go +dere.'</p> + +<p>"Anyway, she had a young mister, a son, an he was mean to de slaves. I +nebber lak him.</p> + +<p>"Once I was sent to mah missys' brother for a time but I wouldn' stay +dere: he too rough.</p> + +<p>"No, deh didn't want you to learn out of books. My missy say one day +when I was free, 'Now you can get your lessons.'</p> + +<p>"I allus lowed to do what I wanted, take what I wanted, and eat what I +wanted. Deh had lots of money but what good did it do them? Deh allus +was sick.</p> + +<p>"De poor soldiers had lots to go thru, even after de wah. Deh starvin +and beggin and sick.</p> + +<p>"De slaves had more meetins and gatherins aftah de war.</p> + +<p>"On de plantation where I work dey had a great big horn blow every +mornin to get de slaves up to de field, I allus get up soon after it +blew, most allways, but this mornin dey blew de horn a long time an I +says, 'what foh dey blow dat horn so long?' an den de mastah say, 'You +all is free'. Den he says, ter me, 'What you all goin to do now', and I +says, 'I'm goin to fine my mother.'</p> + +<p>"One day a soldier stop me an says, 'Sister, where do you live?' I tole +him, den he says, 'I'm hungry.' So I went an got him sompin to eat.</p> + +<p>"One time I was to be sold de next day, but de missy tole the man who +cried the block not to sell me, but deh sold my mother and I didn't see +her after dat till just befoh de war ovah.</p> + +<p>"All dat de slaves got after de war was loaned dem and dey had to work +mighty hard to pay for dem. I saw a lot of poor people cut off from +votin and dey off right now, I guess. I doan like it dat de woman vote. +A woman ain't got no right votin, nowhow.</p> + +<p>"Most of de slaves get pensions and are taken care of by their chillun."</p> + +<p>"Ah doan know about de generation today, just suit yourself bout dat."</p> + +<p>Julia Williams resides at 150 Kyle St., Wadsworth, Ohio.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="WilliamsReverend"></a> +<h3>Miriam Logan<br> +Lebanon, Ohio<br> +July 8th<br> +<br> +Warren County, District 2<br> +<br> +Story of REVEREND WILLIAMS, Aged 76,<br> +Colored Methodist Minister,<br> +Born Greenbriar County, West Virginia (Born 1859)</h3> +<br> + +<p>"I was born on the estate of Miss Frances Cree, my mother's mistress. +She had set my grandmother Delilah free with her sixteen children, so my +mother was free when I was born, but my father was not.</p> + +<p>"My father was butler to General Davis, nephew of Jefferson Davis. +General Davis was wounded in the Civil War and came home to die. My +father, Allen Williams was not free until the Emancipation."</p> + +<p>"Grandmother Delilah belonged to Dr. Cree. Upon his death and the +division of his estate, his maiden daughter came into possession of my +grandmother, you understand. Miss Frances nor her brother Mr. Cam. ever +married. Miss Frances was very religious, a Methodist, and she believed +Grandmother Delilah should be free, and that we colored children should +have schooling."</p> + +<p>"Yes ma'm, we colored people had a church down there in West Virginia, +and grandmother Delilah had a family Bible of her own. She had fourteen +boys and two girls. My mother had sixteen children, two boys, fourteen +girls. Of them—mother's children, you understand,—there were seven +teachers and two ministers; all were educated—thanks to Miss Frances +and to Miss Sands of Gallipolice. Mother lived to be ninety-seven years +old. No, she was not a cook."</p> + +<p>"In the south, you understand—there is the COLORED M.E. CHURCH, and the +AFRICAN M.E. CHURCH, and the SOUTHERN METHODIST, and METHODIST EPISCOPAL +CHURCHES of the white people. They say there will be UNION METHODIST of +both white and colored people, but I don't believe there will be, for +there is a great difference in beliefs, even today. SOUTHERN METHODIST +do believe, do believe in slavery; while the Methodist to which Miss +Frances Cree belonged did not believe in slavery. The Davis family, (one +of the finest) did believe in slavery and they were good southern +Methodist. Mr. Cam., Miss Frances brother was not so opposed to slavery +as was Miss Frances. Miss Frances willed us to the care of her good +Methodist friend Miss Eliza Sands of Ohio."</p> + +<p>"Culture loosens predijuce. I do not believe in social equality at all +myself; it cannot be; but we all must learn to keep to our own road, and +bear Christian good will towards each other."</p> + +<p>"I do not know of any colored people who are any more superstitious than +are white people. They have the advantages of education now equally and +are about on the same level. Of course illiterate whites and the +illiterate colored man are apt to believe in charms. I do not remember +of hearing of any particular superstitious among my church people that I +could tell you about, no ma'm, I do not."</p> + +<p>"In church music I hold that the good old hymns of John and of Charles +Wesley are the best to be had. I don' like shouting 'Spirituals' +show-off and carrying on—never did encourage it! Inward Grace will come +out in your singing more than anything else you do, and the impression +we carry away from your song and, from the singer are what I count." +Read well, sing correctly, but first, last, remember real inward Grace +is what shows forth the most in a song."</p> + +<p>"In New Oreleans where I went to school,—(graduated in 1887 from the +Freedman's Aid College)—there were 14 or 15 colored churches +(methodist) in my youth. New Oreleans is one third colored in +population, you understand. Some places in the south the colored +outnumber the whites 30 to 1.</p> + +<p>"I pastored St. Paul's church in Louieville, a church of close to 3,000 +members. No'ma'm can't say just how old a church it is."</p> + +<p>"To live a consecrated life, you'd better leave off dancing, drinking +smoking and the movies. I've never been to a movie in my life. When I +hear some of the programs colored folks put on the radio sometimes I +feel just like going out to the woodshed and getting my axe and chopping +up the radio, I do! It's natural and graceful to dance, but it is not +natural or good to mill around in a low-minded smoky dance hall."</p> + +<p>"I don't hold it right to put anybody out of church, no ma'm. No matter +what they do, I don't believe in putting anybody out of church."</p> + +<p>"My mother and her children were sent to Miss Eliza Sands at Gallipolis, +Ohio after Miss Frances Cree's death, at Miss Frances' request. Father +did not go, no ma'm. He came later and finished his days with us."</p> + +<p>"We went first to Point Pleasant, then up the river to Gallipolis."</p> + +<p>"After we got there we went to school. A man got me a place in +Cincinnati when I was twelve years old. I blacked boots and ran errands +of the hotel office until I was thirteen; then I went to the FREEDMAN'S +AID COLLEGE in N' Orleans; remained until I graduated. Shoemaking and +carpentering were given to me for trades, but as young fellow I shipped +on a freighter plying between New Orleans and Liverpool, thinking I +would like to be a seaman. I was a mean tempered boy. As cook's helper +one day, I got mad at the boatswain,—threw a pan of hot grease on him."</p> + +<p>The crew wanted me put into irons, but the captain said 'no,—leave him +in Liverpool soon as we land—in about a day or two. When I landed there +they left me to be deported back to the States according to law."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I had an aunt live to be 112 years old. She died at Granville +(Ohio) some thirty years ago. We know her age from a paper on Dr. Cree's +estate where she was listed as a child of twelve, and that had been one +hundred years before."</p> + +<p>"About the music now,—you see I'm used to thinking of religion as the +working out of life in good deeds, not just a singing-show-off kind."</p> + +<p>Some of the Spirituals are fine, but still I think Wesley hymns are +best. I tell my folks that the good Lord isn't a deaf old gentleman that +has to be shouted up to, or amused. I do think we colored people are a +little too apt to want to show off in our singing sometimes."</p> + +<p>"I was very small when we went away from Greenbriar County to Point +Pleasant, and from there to Gallipolis by wagon. I do remember Mr. Cam. +Cree. I was taring around the front lawn where he didn't want me; he was +cross. I remember somebody taking me around the house, and thats +all,-all that I can remember of the old Virginia home where my folks had +belonged for several generations."</p> + +<p>"I've pastored large churches in Louisville and St. Louis. In Ohio I +have been at Glendale, and at Oxford,—other places. This old place was +for sale on the court house steps one day when I happened to be in +Lebanon. Five acres, yes ma'm. There's the corner stone with 1822—age +of the house. My sight is poor, can't read, so I do not try to preach +much anymore, but I help in church in any way that I am needed, keep +busy and happy always! I am able to garden and enjoy life every day. +Certainly my life has been a fortunate one in my mother's belonging to +Miss Frances Cree. I have been a minister some forty years. I graduated +from Wilberforce College."</p> + +<p>This colored minister has a five acre plot of ground and an old brick +house located at the corporation line of the village of Lebanon. He is a +medium sized man. Talks very fast. A writer could turn in about 40 pages +on an interview with him, but he is very much in earnest about his +beliefs. He seems to be rather nervous and has very poor sight. His wife +is yellow in color, and has a decidedly oriental cast of face. She is as +silent, as he is talkative, and from general appearances of her home +she is a very neat housekeeper. Neither of them speak in dialect at all. +Wade Glenn does not speak in dialect, although he is from North +Carolina.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="WilliamsWilliam"></a> +<h3>Ex-Slaves<br> +Stark County, District 5<br> +Aug 13, 1937<br> +<br> +WILLIAM WILLIAMS, Ex-Slave</h3> +<br> + +<p>Interview with William Williams, 1227 Rex Ave. S.E. Canton, O.</p> + +<p>"I was born a slave in Caswell County, North Carolina, April 14, 1857. +My mother's name was Sarah Hunt and her master's name was Taz Hunt. I +did not know who my father was until after the war. When I was about 11 +years old I went to work on a farm for Thomas Williams and he told me he +was my father. When I was born he was a slave on the plantation next to +Hunt's place and was owned by John Jefferson. Jefferson sold my father +after I was born but I do not know his last master's name.</p> + +<p>My father and mother were never married. They just had the permission of +the two slave owners to live together and I became the property of my +father's master, John Jefferson until I was sold. After the war my +mother joined my father on his little farm and it was then I first +learned he was my father.</p> + +<p>I was sold when I was 3 years old but I don't remember the name of the +man that bought me.</p> + +<p>After the war my father got 100 acres and a team of mules to farm on +shares, the master furnishing the food for the first year and at the end +of the second year he had the privilege of buying the land at $1.00 per +acre.</p> + +<p>When I was a boy I played with other slave children and sometimes with +the master's children and what little education I have I got from them. +No, I can't read or write but I can figure 'like the devil'.</p> + +<p>The plantation of John Jefferson was one of the biggest in the south, it +had 2200 acres and he owned about 2000 slaves.</p> + +<p>I was too young to remember anything about the slave days although I do +remember that I never saw a pair of shoes until I was old enough to +work. My father was a cobbler and I used to have to whittle out shoe +pegs for him and I had to walk sometimes six miles to get pine knots +which we lit at night so my mother could see to work.</p> + +<p>I did not stay with my father and mother long as I was only about 14 +when I started north. I worked for farmers every place I could find work +and sometimes would work a month or maybe two. The last farmer I worked +for I stayed a year and I got my board and room and five dollars a month +which was paid at the end of every six months. I stayed in Pennsylvania +for some years and came to Canton in 1884. I have always worked at farm +work except now and then in a factory.</p> + +<p>I had two brothers, Dan and Tom, and one sister, Dora, but I never heard +from them or saw them after the war. I have been married twice. My first +wife was Sally Dillis Blaire and we were married in 1889. I got a +divorce a few years later and I don't know whatever became of her. My +second wife is still living. Her name was Kattie Belle Reed and I +married her in 1907. No, I never had any children.</p> + +<p>I don't believe I had a bed when I was a slave as I don't remember any. +At home, after the war, my mother and father's bed was made of wood with +ropes stretched across with a straw tick on top. 'Us kids' slept under +this bed on a 'trundle' bed so that at night my mother could just reach +down and look after any one of us if we were sick or anything.</p> + +<p>I was raised on ash cakes, yams and butter milk. These ash cakes were +small balls made of dough and my mother would rake the ashes out of the +fire place and lay these balls on the hot coals and then cover them over +with the ashes again. When they were done we would take 'em out, clean +off the ashes and eat them. We used to cook chicken by first cleaning +it, but leaving the feathers on, then cover it with clay and lay it in a +hole filled with hot coals. When it was done we would just knock off the +clay and the feathers would come off with it.</p> + +<p>When I was a 'kid' I wore nothing but a 'three cornered rag' and my +mother made all my clothes as I grew older. No, the slaves never knew +what underwear was.</p> + +<p>We didn't have any clocks to go by; we just went to work when it was +light enough and quit when it was too dark to see. When any slaves took +sick they called in a nigger mammy who used roots and herbs, that is, +unless they were bad sick, then the overseer would call a regular +doctor.</p> + +<p>When some slave died no one quit work except relatives and they stopped +just long enough to go to the funeral. The coffins were made on the +plantation, these were just rough pine board boxes, and the bodies were +buried in the grave yard on the plantation.</p> + +<p>The overseer on the Jefferson plantation, so my father told me, would +not allow the slaves to pray and I never saw a bible until after I came +north. This overseer was not a religious man and would whip a slave if +he found him praying.</p> + +<p>The slaves were allowed to sing and dance but were not allowed to play +games, but we did play marbles and cards on the quiet. If we wandered +too far from the plantation we were chased and when they caught us they +put us in the stockade. Some of the slaves escaped and as soon as the +overseer found this out they would turn the blood hounds loose. If they +caught any runaway slaves they would whip them and then sell them, they +would never keep a slave who tried to run away."</p> +<br> + +<p><b>NOTE:</b> Mr. Williams and his wife are supported by the Old Age Pension. +Interviewed by Chas. McCullough.</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of +Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: The Ohio Narratives +by Work Projects Administration + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES *** + +***** This file should be named 13217-h.htm or 13217-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/2/1/13217/ + +Produced by Andrea Ball and PG Distributed Proofreaders. Produced +from images provided by the Library of Congress, Manuscript Division. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: The Ohio Narratives + +Author: Work Projects Administration + +Release Date: August 18, 2004 [EBook #13217] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES *** + + + + +Produced by Andrea Ball and PG Distributed Proofreaders. Produced +from images provided by the Library of Congress, Manuscript Division. + + + + + + + +[TR: ***] = Transcriber Note +[HW: ***] = Handwritten Note + + + + +SLAVE NARRATIVES + + +A Folk History of Slavery in the United States +From Interviews with Former Slaves + + +TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY +THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT +1936-1938 +ASSEMBLED BY +THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT +WORK PROJECTS ADMINISTRATION +FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA +SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS + +Illustrated with Photographs + + +WASHINGTON 1941 + + + + +VOLUME XII + +OHIO NARRATIVES + + + + +Prepared by +the Federal Writers' Project of +the Works Progress Administration +for the State of Ohio + + + +INFORMANTS + +Anderson, Charles H. + +Barden, Melissa +Bledsoe, Susan +Bost, Phoebe +Brown, Ben +Burke, Sarah Woods + +Campbell, James +Clark, Fleming + +Davidson, Hannah +Dempsey, Mary Belle + +East, Nancy + +Glenn, Wade + +Hall, David A. +Henderson, Celia + +Jackson, George +Jemison, Rev. Perry Sid [TR: Name also appears as Jamison] + +King, Julia + +Lester, Angeline + +McKimm, Kisey +McMillan, Thomas +Mann, Sarah +Matheus, John William + +Nelson, William + +Slim, Catherine +Small, Jennie +Smith, Anna +Stewart, Nan +Sutton, Samuel + +Toler, Richard + +Williams, Julia +Williams, Rev. +Williams, William + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Charles H. Anderson + +Melissa Barden +Phoebe Bost + +James Campbell + +Angeline Lester + +Richard Toler + + + + +Ruth Thompson, Interviewing +Graff, Editing + +Ex-Slave Interview +Cincinnati + +CHARLES H. ANDERSON +3122 Fredonia St., +Cincinnati, Ohio + +[Illustration: Charles H. Anderson] + + +"Life experience excels all reading. Every place you go, you learn +something from every class of people. Books are just for a memory, to +keep history and the like, but I don't have to go huntin' in libraries, +I got one in my own head, for you can't forget what you learn from +experience." + +The old man speaking is a living example of his theory, and, judging +from his bearing, his experience has given him a philosophical outlook +which comprehends love, gentleness and wisdom. Charles H. Anderson, 3122 +Fredonia Street, was born December 23, 1845, in Richmond, Virginia, as a +slave belonging to J.L. Woodson, grocer, "an exceedingly good owner--not +cruel to anyone". + +With his mother, father, and 15 brothers and sisters, he lived at the +Woodson home in the city, some of the time in a cabin in the rear, but +mostly in the "big house". Favored of all the slaves, he was trusted to +go to the cash drawer for spending money, and permitted to help himself +to candy and all he wanted to eat. With the help of the mistress, his +mother made all his clothes, and he was "about as well dressed as +anybody". + +"I always associated with high-class folks, but I never went to church +then, or to school a day in my life. My owner never sent me or my +brothers, and then when free schools came in, education wasn't on my +mind. I just didn't think about education. Now, I read a few words, and +I can write my name. But experience is what counts most." + +Tapping the porch floor with his cane for emphasis, the old fellow's +softly slurred words fell rapidly but clearly. Sometimes his tongue got +twisted, and he had to repeat. Often he had to switch his pipe from one +side of his mouth to the other; for, as he explained, "there ain't many +tooth-es left in there". Mr. Anderson is rather slight of build, and his +features are fine, his bald head shiny, and his eyes bright and eager. +Though he says he "ain't much good anymore", he seems half a century old +instead of "92 next December, if I can make it". + +"I have been having some sick spells lately, snapped three or four ribs +out of place several years ago, and was in bed for six weeks after my +wife died ten year ago. But my step-daughter here nursed me through it. +Doctor says he doesn't see how I keep on living. But they take good care +of me, my sons and step-daughter. They live here with me, and we're +comfortable." + +And comfortable, neat, and clean they are in the trimmest little frame +house on the street, painted grey with green trim, having a square of +green lawn in front and another in back enclosed with a rail fence, gay +flowers in the corners, rubber plants in pots on the porch, and grape +arbor down one side of the back yard. Inside, rust-colored mohair +overstuffed chairs and davenport look prim with white, crocheted +doilies, a big clock with weights stands in one corner on an ornately +carved table, and several enlarged framed photographs hang on the wall. +The other two rooms are the combined kitchen and dining room, and a +bedroom with a heatrola in it "to warm an old man's bones". Additional +bedrooms are upstairs. + +Pointing to one of the pictures, he remarked, "That was me at 37. Had it +taken for my boss where I worked. It was a post card, and then I had it +enlarged for myself. That was just before I married Helen". + +Helen Comer, nee Cruitt, was a widow with four youngsters when he met +her 54 years ago. One year later they were married and had two boys, +Charles, now 47, employed as an auto repair man, and Samuel, 43, a +sorter in the Post Office, both bachelors. + +"Yes sir, I sure was healthy-looking them days. Always was strong, never +took a dollars worth of medicine in fifty year or more till I had these +last sick spells. But we had good living in slave days. In one sense we +were better off then than after the war, 'cause we had plenty to eat. +Nowadays, everybody has to fen' for himself, and they'd kill a man for a +dime. + +"Whip the slaves? Oh, my God! Don't mention it, don't mention it! Lots +of 'em in Old Dominion got beatings for punishment. They didn't have no +jail for slaves, but the owners used a whip and lash on 'em. I've seen +'am on a chain gang, too, up at the penitentiary. But I never got a +whipping in my life. Used to help around the grocery, and deliver +groceries. Used to go up to Jeff Davis' house every day. He was a fine +man. Always was good to me. But then I never quarreled with anybody, +always minded my own business. And I never was scared of nothing. Most +folks was superstitious, but I never believed in ghosts nor anything I +didn't see. Never wore a charm. Never took much stock in that kind of +business. The old people used to carry potatoes to keep off rheumatism. +Yes, sir. They had to steal an Irish potato, and carry it till it was +hard as a rock; then they'd say they never get rheumatism. + +"Saturday was our busy day at the store; but after work, I used to go to +the drag downs. Some people say 'hoe down' or 'dig down', I guess 'cause +they'd dig right into it, and give it all they got. I was a great hand +at fiddlin'. Got one in there now that is 107-year old, but I haven't +played for years. Since I broke my shoulder bone, I can't handle the +bow. But I used to play at all the drag downs. Anything I heard played +once, I could play. Used to play two steps, one of 'em called 'Devil's +Dream', and three or four good German waltzes, and 'Turkey in the +Straw'--but we didn't call it that then. It was the same piece, but I +forget what we called it. They don't play the same nowadays. Playin' now +is just a time-consumer, that's all; they got it all tore to pieces, no +top or bottom to it. + +"We used to play games, too. Ring games at play parties--'Ring Around +the Rosie', 'Chase the Squirrel', and 'Holly Golly'. Never hear of Holly +Golly? Well, they'd pass around the peanuts, and whoever'd get three +nuts in one shell had to give that one to the one who had started the +game. Then they'd pass 'em around again. Just a peanut-eating contest, +sorta. + +"Abraham Lincoln? Well, they's people born in this world for every +occupation and Lincoln was a natural born man for the job he completed. +Just check it back to Pharoah' time: There was Moses born to deliver the +children of Israel. And John Brown, he was born for a purpose. But they +said he was cruel all the way th'ough, and they hung him in February, +1859. That created a great sensation. And he said, 'Go ahead. Do your +work. I done mine'. Then they whipped around till they got the war +started. And that was the start of the Civil War. + +"I enlisted April 10, 1865, and was sent to San Diego, Texas; but I +never was in a battle. And they was only one time when I felt anyways +skittish. That was when I was a new recruit on picket duty. And it was +pitch dark, and I heard something comin' th'ough the bushes, and I +thought, 'Let 'em come, whoever it is'. And I got my bayonet all ready, +and waited. I'se gittin' sorta nervous, and purty soon the bushes +opened, and what you think come out? A great big ole hog! + +"In June '65, I got a cold one night, and contracted this throat trouble +I get--never did get rid of it. Still carry it from the war. Got my +first pension on that--$6 a month. Ain't many of us left to get pensions +now. They's only 11 veterans left in Cincinnati. + +"They used to be the Ku Klux Klan organization. That was the +pat-rollers, then they called them the Night Riders, and at one time the +Regulators. The 'Ole Dragon', his name was Simons, he had control of it, +and that continued on for 50 year till after the war when Garfield was +president. Then it sprung up again, now the King Bee is in prison. + +"Well, after the war I was free. But it didn't make much difference to +me; I just had to work for myself instead of somebody else. And I just +rambled around. Sort of a floater. But I always worked, and I always eat +regular, and had regular rest. Work never hurt nobody. I lived so many +places, Cleveland, and ever'place, but I made it here longer than +anyplace--53 year. I worked on the railroad, bossin'. Always had men +under me. When the Chesapeake and Ohio put th'ough that extension to +White Sulphur, we cut tracks th'ough a tunnel 7 mile long. And I handled +men in '83 when they put the C & O th'ough here. But since I was 71, I +been doin' handy work--just general handy man. Used to do a lot of +carving, too, till I broke my shoulder bone. Carved that ol' pipe of +mine 25 year ago out of an ol' umbrella handle, and carved this monkey +watch charm. But the last three year I ain't done much of anything. + +"Go to church sometimes, over here to the Corinthian Baptis' Church of +Walnut Hills. But church don't do much good nowadays. They got too much +education for church. This new-fangled education is just a bunch of +ignoramacy. Everybody's just looking for a string to pull to get +something--not to help others. About one-third goes to see what everbody +else is wearing, and who's got the nicest clothes. And they sit back, +and they say, 'What she think she look like with that thing on her +haid?'. The other two-thirds? Why, they just go for nonsense, I guess. +Those who go for religion are scarce as chicken teeth. Yes sir, they go +more for sight-seein' than soul-savin'. + +"They's so much gingerbread work goin' on now. Our most prominent people +come from the eastern part of the United States. All wise people come +from the East, just as the wise men did when the Star of Bethlehem +appeared when Christ was born. And the farther east you go, the more +common knowledge a person's got. That ain't no Dream Boat. Nowadays, +people are gettin' crazier everyday. We got too much liberty; it's all +'little you, and big me'. Everybody's got a right to his own opinion, +and the old fashioned way was good enough for my father, and it's good +enough for me. + +"If your back trail is clean, you don't need to worry about the future. +Your future life is your past conduct. It's a trailer behind you. And I +ain't quite dead yet, efn I do smell bad!" + + + + +Story and Photo by Frank M. Smith + +Ex-Slaves +Mahoning County, District #5 +Youngstown, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. MELISSA (LOWE) BARDEN, Youngstown, Ohio. + +[Illustration: Melissa Barden] + + +Mrs. Melissa (Lowe) Barden of 1671 Jacobs Road, was "bred and born" on +the plantation of David Lowe, near Summersville, Georgia, Chattooga +County, and when asked how old she was said "I's way up yonder +somewheres maybe 80 or 90 years." + +Melissa assumed her master's name Lowe, and says he was very good to her +and that she loved him. Only once did she feel ill towards him and that +was when he sold her mother. She and her sister were left alone. Later +he gave her sister and several other slaves to his newly married +daughter as a wedding present. This sister was sold and re-sold and when +the slaves were given their freedom her mother came to claim her +children, but Melissa was the only one of the four she could find. Her +mother took her to a plantation in Newton County, where they worked +until coming north. The mother died here and Melissa married a man named +Barden. + +Melissa says she was very happy on the plantation where they danced and +sang folk songs of the South, such as _"Sho' Fly Go 'Way From Me"_, and +others after their days work was done. + +When asked if she objected to having her picture taken she said, "all +right, but don't you-all poke fun at me because I am just as God made +me." + +Melissa lives with her daughter, Nany Hardie, in a neat bungalow on the +Sharon Line, a Negro district. Melissa's health is good with the +exception of cataracts over her eyes which have caused her to be totally +blind. + + + + +Ohio Guide +Ex-Slave Stories +Aug 15, 1937 + +SUSAN BLEDSOE +462-12th St. S.E., Canton, Ohio. + +"I was born on a plantation in Gilee County, near the town of Elkton, in +Tennessee, on August 15, 1845. My father's name was Shedrick Daley and +he was owned by Tom Daley and my mother's name was Rhedia Jenkins and +her master's name was Silas Jenkins. I was owned by my mother's master +but some of my brothers and sisters--I had six brothers and six +sisters--were owned by Tom Daley. + +I always worked in the fields with the men except when I was called to +the house to do work there. 'Masse' Jenkins was good and kind to all us +slaves and we had good times in the evening after work. We got in groups +in front of the cabins and sang and danced to the music of banjoes until +the overseer would come along and make us go to bed. No, I don't +remember what the songs were, nothing in particular, I guess, just some +we made up and we would sing a line or two over and over again. + +We were not allowed to work on Sunday but we could go to church if we +wanted to. There wasn't any colored church but we could go to the white +folks church if we went with our overseer. His name was Charlie Bull and +he was good to all of us. + +Yes, they had to whip a slave sometimes, but only the bad ones, and they +deserved it. No, there wasn't any jail on the plantation. + +We all had to get up at sunup and work till sundown and we always had +good food and plenty of it; you see they had to feed us well so we would +be strong. I got better food when I was a slave than I have ever had +since. + +Our beds were home made, they made them out of poplar wood and gave us +straw ticks to sleep on. I got two calico dresses a year and these were +my Sunday dresses and I was only allowed to wear them on week days after +they were almost worn out. Our shoes were made right on the plantation. + +When any slaves got sick, Mr. Bull, the overseer, got a regular doctor +and when a slave died we kept right on working until it was time for the +funeral, then we were called in but had to go right back to work as soon +as it was over. Coffins were made by the slaves out of poplar lumber. + +We didn't play many games, the only ones I can remember are 'ball' and +'marbles'. No, they would not let us play 'cards'. + +One day I was sent out to clean the hen house and to burn the straw. I +cleaned the hen house, pushed the straw up on a pile and set fire to it +and burned the hen house down and I sure thought I was going to get +whipped, but I didn't, for I had a good 'masse'. + +We always got along fine with the children of the slave owners but none +of the colored people would have anything to do with the 'poor white +trash' who were too poor to own slaves and had to do their own work. + +There was never any uprisings on our plantations and I never heard about +any around where I lived. We were all happy and contented and had good +times. + +Yes, I can remember when we were set free. Mr. Bull told us and we cut +long poles and fastened balls of cotton on the ends and set fire to +them. Then, we run around with them burning, a-singin' and a-dancin'. +No, we did not try to run away and never left the plantation until Mr. +Bull said we could go. + +After the war, I worked for Mr. Bull for about a year on the old +plantation and was treated like one of the family. After that I worked +for my brother on a little farm near the old home place. He was buying +his farm from his master, Mr. Tom Daley. + +I was married on my brother's place to Wade Bledsoe in 1870. He has been +dead now about 15 years. His master had given him a small farm but I do +not remember his master's name. Yes, I lived in Tennessee until after my +husband died. I came to Canton in 1929 to live with my granddaughter, +Mrs. Algie Clark. + +I had three children; they are all dead but I have 6 grandchildren, 8 +great-grandchildren and 9 great-great-grandchildren, all living. No, I +don't think the children today are as good as they used to be, they are +just not raised like we were and do too much as they please. + +I can't read or write as none of we slaves ever went to school but I +used to listen to the white folks talk and copied after them as much as +I could." + + +NOTE: The above is almost exactly as Mrs. Bledsoe talked to our +interviewer. Although she is a woman of no schooling she talks well and +uses the common negro dialect very little. She is 92 years of age but +her mind is clear and she is very entertaining. She receives an Old Age +Pension. (Interviewed by Chas. McCullough.) + + + + +Story and Photo by Frank Smith + +Topic: Ex-slaves +Mahoning County, District #5 +Youngstown, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. PHOEBE BOST, of Youngstown, Ohio. + +[Illustration: Phoebe Bost] + + +Mrs. Phoebe Bost, was born on a plantation in Louisiana, near New +Orleans. She does not know her exact age but says she was told, when +given her freedom that she was about 15 years of age. Phoebe's first +master was a man named Simons, who took her to a slave auction in +Baltimore, where she was sold to Vaul Mooney (this name is spelled as +pronounced, the correct spelling not known.) When Phoebe was given her +freedom she assummed the name of Mooney, and went to Stanley County, +North Carolina, where she worked for wages until she came north and +married to Peter Bost. Phoebe claims both her masters were very mean and +would administer a whipping at the slightest provocation. + +Phoebe's duties were that of a nurse maid. "I had to hol' the baby all +de time she slept" she said "and sometimes I got so sleepy myself I had +to prop ma' eyes open with pieces of whisks from a broom." + +She claims there was not any recreation, such as singing and dancing +permitted at this plantation. + +Phoebe, who is now widowed, lives with her daughter, in part of a double +house, at 3461 Wilson Avenue, Campbell, Ohio. Their home is fairly well +furnished and clean in appearance. Phoebe is of slender stature, and is +quite active in spite of the fact that she is nearing her nineties. + + + + +WPA in Ohio +By Albert I. Dugan [TR: also reported as Dugen] +Jun 9, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-slaves +Muskingum County, District #2 + +BEN BROWN +Ex-slave, 100 years +Keen St., Zanesville, Ohio + + +Yes suh I wuz a slave in Vaginyah, Alvamaul (Albermarle) county an' I +didn't have any good life, I'm tellin' you dat! It wuz a tough life. I +don't know how old I am, dey never told me down dere, but the folks here +say I'm a hunderd yeah old an' I spect dats about right. My fathah's +name wuz Jack Brown and' my mammy's Nellie Brown. Dey wuz six of us +chillun, one sistah Hannah an' three brothers, Jim, Harrison, an' Spot. +Jim wuz de oldes an' I wuz next. We wuz born on a very lauge plantation +an dey wuz lots an' lots of other slaves, I don't know how many. De log +cabins what we live in[HW:?] on both sides de path make it look like a +town. Mastah's house wuz a big, big one an' had big brick chimneys on de +outside. It wuz a frame house, brown, an' set way back from de road, an' +behind dat wuz de slaves' quarters. De mastah, he wuz Fleming Moon an' +dey say he wuz cap'n in de wah of 1812. De missy wuz Parley Moon and dey +had one son an fouh daughters. + +All us chillun an mammy live in a log cabin dat wuz lauge enuf foh us an +we sleep in good beds, tall ones an' low ones dat went undaneath, +trundles dey call 'em, and de covahs wuz comfohtable. De mammies did de +cookin. We et cohn bread, beans, soup, cabbage an' some othah vegtubles, +an a little meat an fish, not much. Cohn cake wuz baked in de ashes, +ash-cake we call 'em an' dey wuz good and sweet. Sometimes we got wheat +bread, we call dat "seldom bread" an' cohn bread wuz called "common" +becos we had it ev'ry day. A boss mammy, she looked aftah de eatins' and +believe me nobuddy got too much. + +De meat house wuz full of smoked po'k, but we only got a little piece +now an' den. At hog killin' time we built a big fiah an put on stones +an' when dey git hot we throw 'em in a hogshead dat has watah in it. Den +moah hot stones till de watah is jus right for takin' de hair off de +hogs, lots of 'em. Salt herrin' fish in barls cum to our place an we put +em in watah to soak an den string em on pointed sticks an' hang up to +dry so dey wont be so salty. A little wuz given us with de other food. + +I worked about de place doin' chores an takin' care of de younger +chillun, when mammy wuz out in de fields at harvest time, an' I worked +in de fields too sometimes. De mastah sent me sometimes with young +recruits goin' to de army headquartahs at Charlottesville to take care +of de horses an show de way. We all worked hard an' when supper wuz ovah +I wuz too tired to do anything but go to bed. It wuz jus work, eat an +sleep foh most of us, dere wuz no time foh play. Some of em tried to +sing or tell stories or pray but dey soon went to bed. Sometimes I heard +some of de stories about hants and speerits an devils that skeered me so +I ran to bed an' covered mah head. + +Mastah died an' den missie, she and a son-in-law took charge of de +place. Mah sistah Hannah wuz sold on de auction block at Richmon to +Mastah Frank Maxie (Massie?) an' taken to de plantation near +Charlottesville. I missed mah sistah terrible an ran away to see her, +ran away three times, but ev'ry time dey cum on horseback an git me jus +befoh I got to Maxies. The missie wuz with dem on a horse and she ax +where I goin an' I told her. Mah hands wuz tied crossways in front with +a big rope so hard it hurt. Den I wuz left on de groun foh a long time +while missie visited Missie Maxie. Dey start home on horses pulling de +rope tied to mah hands. I had to run or fall down an' be dragged on de +groun'. It wuz terrible. When we got home de missie whipped me with a +thick hickory switch an' she wasn't a bit lenient. I wuz whipped ev'ry +time I ran away to see mah sister. + +When dere wuz talk of Yankies cumin' de missie told me to git a box an +she filled it with gold an' silver, lots of it, she wuz rich, an I dug a +hole near de hen house an put in de box an' covered it with dirt an' +smoothed it down an scattered some leaves an twigs ovah it. She told me +nevah, nevah to tell about it and I nevah did until now. She showed me a +big white card with writin' on it an' said it say "This is a Union +Plantation" an' put it on a tree so the Yankies wouldn't try to find de +gold and silvers. But I never saw any Yankie squads cum around. When de +wah wuz ovah, de missie nevah tell me dat I wuz free an' I kep' on +workin' same as befoh. I couldn't read or write an' to me all money +coins wuz a cent, big copper cents, dey wuz all alike to me. De slaves +wuz not allowed any learnin an' if any books, papers or pictures wuz +foun' among us we wuz whipped if we couldn't explain where dey cum from. +Mah sistah an' brother cum foh me an tell me I am free and take me with +them to Mastah Maxies' place where dey workin. Dey had a big dinnah +ready foh me, but I wuz too excited to eat. I worked foh Mastah Maxie +too, helpin' with de horses an' doin' chores. Mammy cum' an wuz de cook. +I got some clothes and a few cents an' travelers give me small coins foh +tending dere horses an' I done done odd jobs here an dere. + +I wanted some learnin but dere wuz no way to git it until a white man +cleared a place in de woods an' put up branches to make shade. He read +books to us foh a while an' den gave it up. A lovly white woman, Missy +Holstottle, her husband's name wuz Dave, read a book to me an' I +remember de stories to dis day. It wuz called "White an' Black." Some of +de stories made me cry. + +After wanderin about doin work where I could git it I got a job on de C +an O Railroad workin' on de tracks. In Middleport, dat's near Pomeroy, +Ohio, I wuz married to Gertie Nutter, a widow with two chillun, an dere +wuz no moah chilluns. After mah wife died I wandered about workin' on +railroads an' in coal mines an' I wuz hurt in a mine near Zanesville. +Felt like mah spine wuz pulled out an I couldn't work any moah an' I cum +to mah neice's home here in Zanesville. I got some compensation at +first, but not now. I get some old age pension, a little, not much, but +I'm thankful foh dat. + +Mah life wuz hard an' sad, but now I'm comfortable here with kind +friens. I can't read or write, but I surely enjoy de radio. Some nights +I dream about de old slave times an' I hear dem cryin' an' prayin', "Oh, +Mastah, pray Oh, mastah, mercy!" when dey are bein' whipped, an' I wake +up cryin.' I set here in dis room and can remember mos' all of de old +life, can see it as plain as day, de hard work, de plantation, de +whippings, an' de misery. I'm sure glad it's all over. + + + + +James Immel, Reporter + +Folklore +Washington County, District Three + +SARAH WOODS BURKE +Aged 85 + + +"Yessir, I guess you all would call me an ex-slave cause I was born in +Grayson County, West Virginia and on a plantation I lived for quite a +spell, that is until when I was seven years old when we all moved up +here to Washington county." + +"My Pappy's old Mammy was supposed to have been sold into slavery when +my Pappy was one month old and some poor white people took him ter +raise. We worked for them until he was a growed up man, also 'til they +give him his free papers and 'lowed him to leave the plantation and come +up here to the North." + +"How did we live on the plantation? Well--you see it was like this we +lived in a log cabin with the ground for floors and the beds were built +against the walls jus' like bunks. I 'member that the slaves had a hard +time getting food, most times they got just what was left over or +whatever the slaveholder wanted to give them so at night they would slip +outa their cabins on to the plantation and kill a pig, a sheep or some +cattle which they would butcher in the woods and cut up. The wimmin +folks would carry the pieces back to the cabins in their aprons while +the men would stay behind and bury the head, skin and feet." + +"Whenever they killed a pig they would have to skin it, because they +didn't dare to build a fire. The women folk after getting home would put +the meat in special dug trenches and the men would come erlong and cover +it up." + +"The slave holders in the port of the country I came from was men and it +was quite offen that slaves were tied to a whipping stake and whipped +with a blacksnake until the blood ran down their bodies." + +"I remembers quite clearly one scene that happened jus' afore I left +that there part of the country. At the slaveholders home on the +plantation I was at it was customary for the white folks to go to church +on Sunday morning and to leave the cook in charge. This cook had a habit +of making cookies and handing them out to the slaves before the folks +returned. Now it happened that on one Sunday for some reason or tother +the white folks returned before the regular time and the poor cook did +not have time to get the cookies to the slaves so she just hid then in a +drawer that was in a sewing chair." + +"The white folks had a parrot that always sat on top of a door in this +room and when the mistress came in the room the mean old bird hollered +out at the top of his voice, 'Its in the rocker. It's in the rocker'. +Well the Missus found the cookies and told her husband where upon the +husband called his man that done the whipping and they tied the poor +cook to the stake and whipped her till she fainted. Next morning the +parrot was found dead and a slave was accused because he liked the woman +that had been whipped the day before. They whipped him than until the +blood ran down his legs." + +"Spirits? Yessir I believe in them, but we warnt bothered so much by +them in them days but we was by the wild animals. Why after it got dark +we children would have to stay indoors for fear of them. The men folks +would build a big fire and I can remember my Pappy a settin on top of +the house at night with a old flint lock across his legs awaiting for +one of them critters to come close enough so he could shoot it. The +reason for him being trusted with a gun was because he had been raised +by the poor white man who worked for the slaveholder. My Pappy did not +work in the fields but drove a team of horses." + +"I remembers that when we left the plantation and come to Washington +County, Ohio that we traveled in a covered wagon that had big white +horse hitched to it. The man that owned the horse was Blake Randolls. He +crossed the river 12 miles below Parkersberg. W. Va. on a ferry and went +to Stafford, Ohio, in Monroe County where we lived until I was married +at the age of 15 to Mr. Burke, by the Justice of the Peace, Edward +Oakley. A year later we moved to Curtis Ridge which is seven miles from +Stafford and we lived their for say 20 year or more. We moved to Rainbow +for a spell and then in 1918 my husband died. The old man hard luck came +around cause three years my home burned to the ground and then I came +here to live with my boy Joe and his family." + +"Mr. Burke and myself raised a family of 16 chilluns and at that time my +husband worked at farming for other people at $2.00 a month and a few +things they would give him." + +"My Pappy got his education from the boy of the white man he lived with +because he wasn't allowed to go to school and the white boy was very +smart and taught him just as he learned. My Pappy, fought in the Civil +War too. On which side? Well, sho nuff on the site of the North, boy." + + + + +Hallie Miller, Reporter +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor + +Folklore: Ex-slaves +Gellia County, District 3 + +JAMES CAMPBELL +Age 86 + +[Illustration: James Campbell] + + +"Well, I'se bo'n Monro' County, West Virginia, on January 15, 1852, jes' +few miles from Union, West Virginia." + +"My mammy wuz Dinnah Alexander Campbell an' my pappy wuz Levi Campbell +an' dey bof cum frum Monro' County. Dat's 'bout only place I heerd dem +speak 'bout." + +"Der wuz Levi, Floyd, Henry, Noah, an' Nancy, jes' my haf brudders an' +sistahs, but I neber knowed no diffrunce but whut dey wuz my sistahs an' +brudders." + +"Where we liv? On Marsa John Alexander's farm, he wuz a good Marsa too. +All Marsa John want wuz plenty wurk dun and we dun it too, so der wuz no +trubble on ouah plantashun. I neber reclec' anyone gittin' whipped or +bad treatment frum him. I does 'members, dat sum de neighbers say dey +wuz treated prutty mean, but I don't 'member much 'bout it 'caise I'se +leetle den." + +"Wher'd I sleep? I neber fergit dat trun'l bed, dat I sleep in. + +"Marsa John's place kinda stock farm an' I dun de milkin'. You all know +dat wuz easy like so I jes' keep busy milkin' an' gits out de hard work. +Nudder thing I lik to do wuz pick berries, dat wuz easy too, so I dun my +shar' pickin'." + +"Money? Lawsy chile, I neber dun seen eny money 'til aftah I dun cum to +Gallipolis aftah der war. An' how I lik' to heah it jingle, if I jes' +had two cents, I'd make it jingle." + +"We all had plenty an' good things to eat, beans, corn, tatahs, melons +an' hot mush, corn bread; we jes' seen white flour wunce in a while." + +"Yes mam, we had rabbit, wil' turkey, pheasunts, an' fish, say I'se +tellin' you-all dat riful pappy had shure cud kill de game." + +"Nudder good ole time wuz maple sugar makin' time, mostly dun at night +by limestone burnin'. Yes, I heped with the 'lasses an' all de time I +wuz a thinkin' 'bout dem hot biscets, ham meat, corn bread an' 'lasses." + +"We liv in a cabin on Marse John's place. Der wuzn't much in de cabin +but my mammy kept it mighty clean. Say, I kin see dat ole' fiah place +wid de big logs a burnin' right now; uh, an' smell dat good cookin', all +dun in iron pots an' skillets. An' all de cookin' an' heatin' wuz dun by +wood, why I nebber seed a lump o' coal all time I wuz der. We all had to +cut so much wood an' pile it up two weeks 'for Christmas, an' den when +ouah pile wuz cut, den ouah wurk wuz dun, so we'd jes' hav good time." + +"We all woah jeans clos', jes pants an' jacket. In de summah we chilluns +all went barefoot, but in de wintah we all woah shoes." + +"Ol' Marse John an' his family liv in a big fine brick hous'. Marse John +had des chilluns, Miss Betty an' Miss Ann an' der wuz Marse Mike an' +Marse John. Marse John, he wuz sorta spiled lik. He dun wen to de war +an' runs 'way frum Harpers Ferry an' cum home jes' sceered to death. He +get himsef a pah o' crutches an' neber goes back. Marse John dun used +dem crutches 'til aftah de war wuz ovah. Den der wuz ol' Missy +Kimberton--de gran'muthah. She wuz 'culiar but prutty good, so wuz +Marse's chilluns." + +"Ol' Marse John had bout 20 slaves so de wurk wuzn't so bad on nun ob +us. I kin jes' see dem ol' bindahs and harrows now, dat dey used den. It +would shure look funny usin' 'em now." + +"I all'us got up foah clock in de mornin' to git in de cows an' I didn't +hurry nun, 'caise dat tak in de time." + +"Ouah mammy neber 'lowed de old folks to tell us chilluns sceery stories +o' hants an' sich lik' so der's nun foah me to 'member." + +"Travelin' wuz rather slo' lik. De only way wuz in ox-carts or on hoss +back. We all didn't hay much time fer travelin'. Our Marse wuz too good +to think 'bout runnin' 'way." + +"Nun my fam'ly cud read er write. I lurned to read an write aftah I cum +up Norf to Ohio. Dat wuz biggest thing I ebber tackled, but it made me +de happies' aftah I learn't." + +"We all went to Sunday School an' meetin'. Yes mam, we had to wurk on +Sundays, too, if we did hav any spare time, we went visit in'. On +Saturday nights we had big time foah der wuz mos' all'us dancin' an' +we'd dance long as de can'les lasted. Can'les wuz all we had any time +fur light." + +"I 'member one de neighbah boys tried to run 'way an' de patrollahs got +'im an' fetched 'im back an' he shure dun got a wallopin' fer it. Dat +dun tuk any sich notion out my head. Dem patrollahs dun keep us skeered +to deaf all de time. One, Henry Jones, runned off and went cleah up Norf +sum place an' dey neber did git 'im. 'Course we all wuz shure powahful +glad 'bout his 'scapin'." + +"We'se neber 'lowed out de cabin at night. But sum times de oldah 'uns +wud sneak out at night an'tak de hosses an' tak a leetle ride. An' man +it wud bin jes' too bad if ol' Marse John ketched 'em: dat wuz shure +heaps o' fun fer de kids. I 'member hearin' wunce de ol' folks talkin' +'bout de way one Marse dun sum black boys dat dun sumthin' wrong. He +jes' mak 'em bite off de heads o' baccer wurms; mysef I'd ruther tuk a +lickin." + +"On Christmus Day, we'd git fiah crackahs an' drink brandy, dat wuz all. +Dat day wuz only one we didn't wurk. On Saturday evenin's we'd mold +candles, dat wuzn't so bad." + +"De happies' time o' my life wuz when Cap'n Tipton, a Yankee soljer +cumed an' tol' us de wah wuz ober an' we wuz free. Cap'n. Tipton sez, +"Youse de boys we dun dis foah". We shure didn't lose no time gittin' +'way; no man." + +"We went to Lewisburg an' den up to Cha'leston by wagon an' den tuk de +guvment boat, _Genrul Crooks_, an' it brung us heah to Gallipolis in +1865. Dat Ohio shoah shure looked prutty." + +"I'se shure thankful to Mr. Lincoln foah whut he dun foah us folks, but +dat Jeff Davis, well I ain't sayin' whut I'se thinkin'." + +"De is jes' like de worl', der is lots o' good an' lots o' bad in it." + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project + +Topic: Ex-Slavery +Jefferson Co, District #2 + +FLEMING CLARK +Ex-Slave, 74+ in years + + +My father's name wuz Fleming Clark and my mother's name wuz Emmaline +Clark. Both of dem wuz in slavery. Der massa's name wuz David Bowers. I +don't know where dey cum from but dey moved to Bad Creek after slavery +days. + +Der wuz three of us chillun. Charles, de oldest, den Anthony next and +den me, de youngest. I wuz workin' for a white man and wuz old enough to +drive cows and work in de 'bacco fields, pickin' worms off de leaves. De +other brudders worked wid my father on another plantation. De house +where I lived wid de white Massa Lewis Northsinge and his Missus, wuz a +log house wid just two rooms. I had just a little straw tick and a cot +dat de massa made himself and I hed a common quilt dat de missus made to +cover me. + +I hear dat my grandmother died during slavery and dat my grandfather wuz +killed by his massa during slavery. + +On Sunday I would go home and stay wid my father and mother and two +brothers. We would play around wid ball and marbles. We had no school or +church. We were too far away for church. + +I earned no money. All I got wus just my food and clothes. I wuz leasted +out to my massa and missus. I ate corn bread, fat hog meat and drank +butter milk. Sometimes my father would catch possum and my mother would +cook them, and bring me over a piece. I used to eat rabbit and fish. Dey +used to go fishin' in de creek. I liked rabbit and groundhog. De food +wuz boiled and roasted in de oven. De slaves have a little patch for a +garden and day work it mostly at night when it wuz moonlight. + +We wore geans and shirts of yellow cotton, we wore no shoes up til +Christmas. I wore just de same during de summer except a little coat. We +had no under shirt lik we have now. We wore de same on Sunday. Der wuz +no Sunday suit. + +De mass and missus hed one boy. De boy wuz much older than I. Dey were +all kind to me. I remember plenty poor white chillun. I remember Will +and John Nathan. Dey were poor white people. + +My massa had three plantations. He had five slaves on one and four on +another. I worked on one with four slaves. My father worked on one wid +my brother and mother. We would wake up at 4 and 5 o'clock and do chores +in de barn by lamp light. De overseer would ring a bell in de yeard, if +it wuz not too cold to go out. If it wuz too cold he would cum and knock +on de door. It wuz 8 or 9 o'clock fore we cum in at night. Den we have +to milk de cows to fore we have supper. + +De slaves were punished fore cumin' in too soon and unhitching de +horses. Dey would bend dem accross a barrel and switch dem and den send +dem back to de fields. + +I head dem say dey switch de blood out of dem and salt de wound den dey +could not work de next day. + +I saw slaves sold. Dey would stand on a block and men would bid for dem. +De highest bidder bought de slaves. I saw dem travel in groups, not +chained, one white man in front and one in back. Dey looked like cattle. + +De white folks never learned me to read or write. + +Der were petrollers. Dey were mean if dey catch you out late at night. +If a slave wus out late at night he had to have a notice from his massa. +Der wuz trouble if de slaves were out late at night or if dey run off to +another man. + +De slaves worked on Saturday afternoons. Dey stay in de cabins on +Saturday nights and Sundays. We worked on New Years day. De massa would +give us a little hard cider on Christmas day. Dey would give a big +supper at corn huskin' or cotton pickin' and give a little play or +somethin' lik dat. + +I remember two weddings. Dey hed chicken, and mutton to eat and corn +bread. Dey all ganged round de table. Der wur milk and butter. I +remember one wedding of de white people. I made de ice cream for dem. I +remember playin' marbles and ball. + +Sometimes a racer snake would run after us, wrap round us and whip us +with its tail. The first one I remember got after me in de orchard. He +wrapped right round me and whipped me with his tail. + +My mother took care of de slaves when dey were sick. You had to be awful +sick if dey didn't make you go out. Dey made der own medicine in those +days. We used asafetida and put a piece in a bag and hung it round our +necks. It wuz supposed to keep us from ketchin' diseases from anyone +else. + +When freedom cum dey were all shoutin' and I run to my mother and asked +her what it wuz all bout. De white man said you are all free and can go. +I remember the Yankee soldier comin' through the wheat field. + +My parents lived very light de first year after de war. We lived in a +log cabin. De white man helped dem a little. My father went to work +makin' charcoal. Der wuz no school for Negroes and no land that I +remember. + +I married Alice Thompson. She wuz 16 and I wuz 26. We hed a little +weddin' down in Bushannon, Virginny. A Baptist preacher named Shirley +married us. Der were bout a dozen at de weddin'. We hed a little dancin' +and banjo play in'. I hed two chillun but dey died and my wife died a +long, long time ago. + +I just heard a little bout Abraham Lincoln. I believe he wuz a good man. +I just hed a slight remembrance of Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis. +I have heard of Booker T. Washington, felt just de same bout him. A +pretty good man. + +I think it wuz a great thing that slavery anded, I would not lik to see +it now. + +I joined de Baptist church but I have been runnin' round from place to +place. We always prosper and get along with our fellowmen if we are +religious. + +De overseer wuz poor white trash. His rules were you hed to be out on de +plantation before daylight. Sometimes we hed to sit around on de fence +to wait for daylight and we did not go in before dark. We go in bout one +for meals. + + + + +K. Osthimer, Author +Aug 12, 1937 + +Folklore: Stories from Ex-Slaves +Lucas County, District Nine +Toledo, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. HANNAH DAVIDSON. + + +Mrs. Hannah Davidson occupies two rooms in a home at 533 Woodland +Avenue, Toledo, Ohio. Born on a plantation in Ballard County, Kentucky, +in 1852, she is today a little, white-haired old lady. Dark, flashing +eyes peer through her spectacles. Always quick to learn, she has taught +herself to read. She says, "I could always spell almost everything." She +has eagerly sought education. Much of her ability to read has been +gained from attendance in recent years in WPA "opportunity classes" in +the city. Today, this warm-hearted, quiet little Negro woman ekes out a +bare existence on an old age pension of $23.00 a month. It is with +regret that she recalls the shadows and sufferings of the past. She +says, "It is best not to talk about them. The things that my sister May +and I suffered were so terrible that people would not believe them. It +is best not to have such things in our memory." + +"My father and mother were Isaac and Nancy Meriwether," she stated. "All +the slaves went under the name of my master and mistress, Emmett and +Susan Meriwether. I had four sisters and two brothers. There was +Adeline, Dorah, Alice, and Lizzie. My brothers were Major and George +Meriwether. We lived in a log cabin made of sticks and dirt, you know, +logs and dirt stuck in the cracks. We slept on beds made of boards +nailed up. + +"I don't remember anything about my grandparents. My folks were sold +around and I couldn't keep track of them. + +"The first work I did out from home was with my mistress's brother, Dr. +Jim Taylor, in Kentucky, taking care of his children. I was an awful +tiny little somethin' about eight or nine years old. I used to turn the +reel for the old folks who was spinning. That's all I've ever +known--work. + +"I never got a penny. My master kept me and my sister Mary twenty-two +long years after we were supposed to be free. Work, work, work. I don't +think my sister and I ever went to bed before twelve o'clock at night. +We never got a penny. They could have spared it, too; they had enough. + +"We ate corn bread and fat meat. Meat and bread, we kids called it. We +all had a pint tin cup of buttermilk. No slaves had their own gardens. + +"The men just wore jeans. The slaves all made their own clothes. They +just wove all the time; the old women wove all the time. I wasn't old +enough to go in the field like the oldest children. The oldest +children--they _worked_. After slavery ended, my sister Mary and me +worked as ex-slaves, and we _worked_. Most of the slaves had shoes, but +us kids used to run around barefoot most of the time. + +"My folks, my master and mistress, lived in a great, white, frame house, +just the same as a hotel. I grew up with the youngest child, Mayo. The +other white children grew up and worked as overseers. Mayo always wanted +me to call him 'Master Mayo'. I fought him all the time. I never would +call him 'Master Mayo'. My mistress wouldn't let anyone harm me and she +made Mayo behave. + +"My master wouldn't let the poor white neighbors--no one--tell us we was +free. The plantation was many, many acres, hundreds and hundreds of +acres, honey. There were about twenty-five or thirty families of slaves. +They got up and stood until daylight, waiting to plow. Yes, child, they +was up _early_. Our folks don't know how we had to work. I don't like to +tell you how we were treated--how we had to _work_. It's best to brush +those things out of our memory. + +"If you wanted to go to another plantation, you had to have a pass. If +my folks was going to somebody's house, they'd have to have a pass. +Otherwise they'd be whipped. They'd take a big man and tie his hands +behind a tree, just like that big tree outside, and whip him with a +rawhide and draw blood every whip. I know I was scared every time I'd +hear the slave say, 'Pray, Master.' + +"Once, when I was milking a cow, I asked Master Ousley, 'Master Ousley, +will you do me a favor?' + +"He said in his drawl, 'Of course I will.' + +"'Take me to McCracken County,' I said. I didn't even know where +McCracken County was, but my sister was there. I wanted to find my +sister. When I reached the house where my sister stayed, I went through +the gate. I asked if this was the house where Mary Meriwether lived. Her +mistress said, 'Yes, she's in the back. Are you the girl Mr. +Meriwether's looking for?" My heart was in my mouth. It just seemed I +couldn't go through the gate. I never even saw my sister that time. I +hid for a while and then went back. + +"We didn't have any churches. My master would come down Sunday morning +with just enough flour to make bread. Coffee, too. Their coffee was +parts of meal, corn and so on. Work all week and that's what they had +for coffee. + +"We used to sing, 'Swing low, sweet chariot'. When our folks sang that, +we could really see the chariot. + +"Once, Jim Ferguson, a colored man, came to teach school. The white +folks beat and whipped him and drove him away in his underwear. + +"I wanted so hard to learn to read, but I didn't even know I was free, +even when slavery was ended. + +"I been so exhausted working, I was like an inch-worm crawling along a +roof. I worked till I thought another lick would kill me. If you had +something to do, you did it or got whipped. Once I was so tired I +couldn't work any more. I crawled in a hole under the house and stayed +there till I was rested. I didn't get whipped, either. + +"I never will forget it--how my master always used to say, 'Keep a +nigger down' I never will forget it. I used to wait on table and I heard +them talk. + +"The only fun we had was on Sunday evening, after work. That was the +only chance we got. We used to go away off from the house and play in +the haystack. + +"Our folks was so cruel, the slaves used to whisper 'round. Some of them +knew they was free, even if the white folks didn't want 'em to find out +they was free. They went off in the woods sometimes. But I was just a +little kid and I wasn't allowed to go around the big folks. + +"I seen enough what the old folks went through. My sister and I went +through enough after slavery was over. For twenty-one long years we were +enslaved, even after we were supposed to be free. We didn't even know we +were free. We had to wash the white people's feet when they took their +shoes off at night--the men and women. + +"Sundays the slaves would wash out their clothes. It was the only time +they had to themselves. Some of the old men worked in their tobacco +patches. We never observed Christmas. We never had no holidays, son, +_no, sir_! We didn't know what the word was. + +"I never saw any slave funerals. Some slaves died, but I never saw any +of them buried. I didn't see any funerals at all. + +"The white folks would come down to the cabins to marry the slaves. The +master or mistress would read a little out of a book. That's all there +was to it. + +"We used to play a game called 'Hulgul'. We'd play it in the cabins and +sometimes with the white children. We'd hold hazelnuts in our hands. I'd +say 'Hulgul' How many? You'd guess. If you hit it right, you'd get them +all and it would be your turn to say 'Hulgul'. If you'd say 'Three!' and +I only had two, you'd have to give me another to make three. + +"The kids nowadays can go right to the store and buy a ball to play +with. We'd have to make a ball out of yarn and put a sock around it for +a cover. Six of us would stay on one side of a house and six on the +other side. Then we'd throw the ball over the roof and say 'Catch!' If +you'd catch it you'd run around to the; other side and hit somebody, +then start over. We worked so hard we couldn't play long on Sunday +evenings. + +"School? We never seen the inside of a schoolhouse. Mistress used to +read the Bible to us every Sunday morning. + +"We say two songs I still remember. + + "I think when I read that sweet story of old, + When Jesus was here among men, + How he called little children like lambs to his fold, + I should like to have been with them then. + + "I wish that his hands had been placed on my head, + That his arms had been thrown around me, + That I might have seen his kind face when he said + 'Let the little ones come unto me.' + + "Yet still to his footstool in prayer I nay go + And ask for a share of his love, + And that I might earnestly seek Him below + And see Him and hear Him above. + +"Then there was another: + + "I want to be an angel + And with the angels stand + With a crown upon my Forehead + And a harp within my hand. + + "And there before my Saviour, + So glorious and so bright, + I'd make the sweetest music + And praise him day and night. + +"And as soon as we got through singing those songs, we had to get right +out to work. I was always glad when they called us in the house to +Sunday school. It was the only chance we'd get to rest. + +"When the slaves got sick, they'd take and look after themselves. My +master had a whole wall of his house for medicine, just like a store. +They made their own medicines and pills. My mistress's brother, Dr. Jim +Taylor, was a doctor. They done their own doctoring. I still have the +mark where I was vaccinated by my master. + +"People was lousy in them days. I always had to pick louses from the +heads of the white children. You don't find children like that nowadays. + +"My mistress had a little roan horse. She went all through the war on +that horse. Us little kids never went around the big folks. We didn't +watch folks faces to learn, like children do now. They wouldn't let us. +All I know about the Civil War was that it was goin' on. I heard talk +about killin' and so on, but I didn't know no thin' about it. + +"My mother was the last slave to get off the plantation. She travelled +across the plantation all night with us children. It was pouring rain. +The white folks surrounded her and took away us children, and gave her +so many minutes to get off the plantation. We never saw her again. She +died away from us. + +"My brother came to see us once when slavery was over. He was grown up. +My master wasn't going to let him see us and he took up his gun. My +mistress said he should let him see us. My brother gave me a little +coral ring. I thought it was the prettiest thing I ever saw. + +"I made my sister leave. I took a rolling pin to make her go and she +finally left. They didn't have any more business with us than you have +right now. + +"I remember when Yankee soldiers came riding through the yard. I was +scared and ran away crying. I can see them now. Their swords hung at +their sides and their horses walked proud, as if they walked on their +hind legs. The master was in the field trying to hide his money and guns +and things. The soldiers said, 'We won't hurt you, child.' It made me +feel wonderful. + +"What I call the Ku Klux were those people who met at night and if they +heard anybody saying you was free, they would take you out at night and +whip you. They were the plantation owners. I never saw them ride, but I +heard about them and what they did. My master used to tell us he wished +he knew who the Ku Kluxers were. But he knew, all right, I used to wait +on table and I heard them talking. 'Gonna lynch another nigger tonight!' + +"The slaves tried to get schools, but they didn't get any. Finally they +started a few schools in little log cabins. But we children, my sister +and I, never went to school. + +"I married William L. Davison, when I was thirty-two years old. That was +after I left the plantation. I never had company there. I had to _work_. +I have only one grandchild still living, Willa May Reynolds. She taught +school in City Grove, Tennessee. She's married now. + +"I thought Abe Lincoln was a great man. What little I know about him, I +always thought he was a great man. He did a lot of good. + +"Us kids always used to sing a song, 'Gonna hang Jeff Davis to a sour +apple tree as we go marchin' home.' I didn't know what it meant at the +time. + +"I never knew much about Booker T. Washington, but I heard about him. +Frederick Douglass was a great man, too. He did lots of good, like Abe +Lincoln. + +"Well, slavery's over and I think that's a grand thing. A white lady +recently asked me, 'Don't you think you were better off under the white +people?' I said 'What you talkin' about? The birds of the air have their +freedom'. I don't know why she should ask me that anyway. + +"I belong to the Third Baptist Church. I think all people should be +religious. Christ was a missionary. He went about doing good to people. +You should be clean, honest, and do everything good for people. I first +turn the searchlight on myself. To be a true Christian, you must do as +Christ said: 'Love one another'. You know, that's why I said I didn't +want to tell about my life and the terrible things that I and my sister +Mary suffered. I want to forgive those people. Some people tell me those +people are in hell now. But I don't think that. I believe we should all +do good to everybody." + + + + +Betty Lugabell, Reporter [TR: also reported as Lugabill] +Harold Pugh, Editor +R.S. Drum, Supervisor +Jun 9, 1937 + +Folklore: Ex-Slaves +Paulding Co., District 10 + +MARY BELLE DEMPSEY +Ex-Slave, 87 years + + +"I was only two years old when my family moved here, from _Wilford_ +county, Kentucky. 'Course I don't remember anything of our slave days, +but my mother told me all about it." + +"My mother and father were named Sidney Jane and William Booker. I had +one brother named George William Booker." + +"The man who owned my father and mother was a good man." He was good to +them and never 'bused them. He had quite a large plantation and owned 26 +slaves. Each slave family had a house of their own and the women of each +family prepared the meals, in their cabins. These cabins were warm and +in good shape." + +"The master farmed his land and the men folks helped in the fields but +the women took care of their homes." + +"We had our churches, too. Sometimes the white folks would try to cause +trouble when the negroes were holding their meetings, then a night the +men of the church would place chunks and matches on the white folks gate +post. In the morning the white folks would find them and know that it +was a warning if they din't quit causing trouble their buildings would +be burned." + +"There was a farm that joined my parents' master's place and the owner +was about ready to sell the mother slave with her five small children. +The children carried on so much because they were to be separated that +the mistress bought them back although she had very little money to +spare." + +"I don't know any more slave stories, but now I am getting old, and I +know that I do not have long to live, but I'm not sorry, I am, ready to +go. I have lived as the Lord wants us to live and I know that when I die +I shall join many of my friends and relatives in the Lord's place. +Religion is the finest thing on earth. It is the one and only thing that +matters." + + + + +Former Slave Interview, Special +Aug 16, 1937 + +Butler County, District #2 +Middletown + +MRS. NANCE EAST +809 Seventeenth Ave., +Middletown, Ohio + + +"Mammy" East, 809 Seventeenth Ave., Middletown, Ohio, rules a four-room +bungalow in the negro district set aside by the American Rolling Mill +Corporation. She lives there with her sons, workers in the mill, and +keeps them an immaculate home in the manner which she was taught on a +Southern plantation. Her house is furnished with modern electrical +appliances and furniture, but she herself is an anachronism, a personage +with no faith in modern methods of living, one who belongs in that vague +period designated as "befo' de wah." + +"I 'membahs all 'bout de slave time. I was powerful small but my mother +and daddy done tole me all 'bout it. Mother and daddy bofe come from +Vaginny; mother's mama did too. She was a weaver and made all our +clothes and de white folks clothes. Dat's all she ever did; just weave +and spin. Gran'mama and her chilluns was _sold_ to the Lett fambly, two +brothers from Monroe County, Alabama. _Sole_ jist like cows, honey, +right off the block, jist like cows. But they was good to they slaves. + +"My mother's last name was Lett, after the white folks, and my daddy's +name was Harris Mosley, after his master. After mother and daddy +married, the Mosleys done bought her from the Letts so they could be +together. They was brother-in-laws. Den I was named after Miss Nancy. +Dey was Miss Nancy and Miss Hattie and two boys in the Mosleys. Land, +honey, they had a big (waving her hands in the air) plantation; a whole +section; and de biggest home you done ever see. We darkies had cabins. +Jist as clean and nice. Them Mosleys, they had a grist mill and a gin. +They like my daddy and he worked in de mill for them. Dey sure was good +to us. My mother worked on de place for Miss Nancy." + +Mammy East, in a neat, voile dress and little pig-tails all over her +head, is a tall, light-skinned Negro, who admits that she would much +rather care for children than attend to the other duties of the little +house she owns; but the white spreads on the beds and the spotless +kitchen is no indication of this fact. She has a passion for the good +old times when the Negroes had security with no responsibility. Her +tall, statuesque appearance is in direct contrast to the present-day +conception of old southern "mammmies." + +"De wah, honey? Why, when dem Yankees come through our county mother and +Miss Nancy and de rest hid de hosses in de swamps and hid other things +in the house, but dey got all the cattle and hogs. Killed 'em, but only +took the hams. Killed all de chickens and things, too. But dey didn't +hurt the house. + +"After de wah, everybody jist went on working same as ever. Then one day +a white mans come riding through the county and tole us we was free. +_Free!_ Honey, did yo' hear _that_? Why we always had been free. He +didn't know what he was talking 'bout. He kept telling us we was free +and dat we oughtn't to work for no white folks 'less'n we got paid for +it. Well Miss Nancy took care of us then. We got our cabin and a piece +of ground for a garden and a share of de crops. Daddy worked in de mill. +Miss Nancy saw to it that we always had nice clothes too. + +"Ku Klux, honey? Why, we nevah did hear tell of no sich thing where we +was. Nevah heered nothin' 'bout dat atall until we come up here, and dey +had em here. Law, honey, folks don't know when dey's well off. My daddy +worked in de mill and save his money, and twelve yeahs aftah de wah he +bought two hundred and twenty acres of land, 'bout ten miles away. Den +latah on daddy bought de mill from de Mosleys too. Yas'm, my daddy was +well off. + +"My, you had to be somebody to votes. I sure do 'membahs all 'bout dat. +You had to be edicated and have money to votes. But I don' 'membahs no +trouble 'bout de votin'. Not where we come from, no how. + +"I was married down dere. Mah husband's fust name was Monroe after the +county we lived in. My chilluns was named aftah some of the Mosleys. I +got a Ed and Hattie. Aftah my daddy died we each got forty acahs. I sold +mine and come up here to live with my boys. + +"But honey dis ain't no way to raise chilluns. Not lak dey raised now. +All dis dishonesty and stealin' and laziness. _No mam!_ Look here at my +gran'sons. Eatin' offen dey daddy. No place for 'em. Got edication, and +caint git no jobs outside cuttin' grass and de like. Down on de +plantation ev'body worked. No laziness er 'oneriness, er nothin! I tells +yo' honey, I sure do wish these chilluns had de chances we had. Not much +learnin', but we had up-bringin'! Look at dem chilluns across de street. +Jist had a big fight ovah dere, and dey mothah's too lazy to do any +thing 'bout it. No'm, nevah did see none o' dat when we was young. +Gittin' in de folkeses hen houses and stealing, and de carryins on at +night. _No mam!_ I sure do wish de old times was here. + +"I went back two-three yeahs ago, to de old home place, and dere it was, +jist same as when I was livin' with Miss Nancy. Co'se, theys all dead +and gone now, but some of the gran'chilluns was around. Yas'm, I membahs +heap bout dem times." + + + + +Miriam Logan, Reporter +Lebanon, Ohio + +Warren County, District 21 + +Story of WADE GLENN from Winston-Salem North Carolina: +(doesn't know his age) + + +"Yes Madam, I were a slave--I'm old enough to have been born into +slavery, but I was only a baby slave, for I do not remember about +slavery, I've just heard them tell about it. My Mammy were Lydia Glenn, +and father were Caesar Glenn, for they belonged to old Glenn. I've heard +tell he were a mean man too. My birthday is October 30th--but what +year--I don't know. There were eight brothers and two sisters. We lived +on John Beck's farm--a big farm, and the first work for me to do was +picking up chips o' wood, and lookin' after hogs. + +"In those days they'd all kinds of work by hand on the farm. No Madam, +no cotton to speak of, or tobacco _then_. Just farmin' corn, hogs, wheat +fruit,--like here. Yes Madam, that was all on John Beck's farm except +the flax and the big wooley sheep. Plenty of nice clean flax-cloth suits +we all had. + +"Beck wasn't so good--but we had enough to eat, wear, and could have our +Saturday afternoon to go to town, and Sunday for church. We sho did have +church, large meetin'--camp meetin'--with lot of singin' an shoutin' and +it was fine! Nevah was no singer, but I was a good dancer in my day, +yes--yes Madam I were a good dancer. I went to dances and to church with +my folks. My father played a violin. He played well, so did my brother, +but I never did play or sing. Mammy sang a lot when she was spinning and +weaving. She sing an' that big wheel a turnin.' + + "When I can read my title clear, + Up Yonder, Up Yonder, Up Yonder! + +and another of her spinnin' songs was a humin:-- + + "The Promise of God Salvation free to give..." + +"Besides helpin' on the farm, father was ferryman on the Yadkin River +for Beck. He had a boat for hire. Sometimes passengers would want to go +a mile, sometimes 30. Father died at thirty-five. He played the violin +fine. My brother played for dances, and he used to sing lots of songs:-- + + "Ol' Aunt Katy, fine ol' soul, + She's beatin' her batter, + In a brand new bowl... + +--that was a fetchin' tune, but you see I can't even carry it. Maybe I +could think up the words of a lot of those ol' tunes but they ought to +pay well for them, for they make money out of them. I liked to go to +church and to dances both. For a big church to sing I like 'Nearer My +God to Thee'--there isn't anything so good for a big crowd to sing out +big! + +"Father died when he was thirty-five of typhoid. We all had to work +hard. I came up here in 1892--and I don't know why I should have, for +Winston-Salem was a big place. I've worked on farm and roads. My wife +died ten years ago. We adopted a girl in Tennennesee years ago, and she +takes a care of me now. She was always good to us--a good girl. Yes, +Madam." + +Wade Glenn proved to be not nearly so interesting as his appearance +promised. He is short; wears gold rimmed glasses; a Southern Colonel's +Mustache and Goatee--and capitals are need to describe the style! He had +his comical-serious little countenance topped off with a soft felt hat +worn at the most rakish angle. He can't carry a tune, and really is not +musical. His adopted daughter with whom he lives is rated the town's +best colored cook. + + + + +Ohio Guide, Special +Ex-Slave Stories +August 16, 1937 + +DAVID A. HALL + + +"I was born at Goldsboro, N.C., July 25, 1847. I never knew who owned my +father, but my mother's master's name was Lifich Pamer. My mother did +not live on the plantation but had a little cabin in town. You see, she +worked as a cook in the hotel and her master wanted her to live close to +her work. I was born in the cabin in town. + +"No, I never went to school, but I was taught a little by my master's +daughter, and can read and write a little. As a slave boy I had to work +in the military school in Goldsboro. I waited on tables and washed +dishes, but my wages went to my master the sane as my mother's. + +"I was about fourteen when the war broke out, and remember when the +Yankees came through our town. There was a Yankee soldier by the name of +Kuhns who took charge of a Government Store. He would sell tobacco and +such like to the soldiers. He was the man who told me I was free and +then give me a job working in the store. + +"I had some brothers and sisters but I do not remember them--can't tell +you anything about them. + +"Our beds were homemade out of poplar lumber and we slept on straw +ticks. We had good things to eat and a lot of corn cakes and sweet +potatoes. I had pretty good clothes, shoes, pants and a shirt, the same +winter and summer. + +"I don't know anything about the plantation as I had to work in town and +did not go out there very much. No, I don't know how big it was or how +many slaves there was. I never heard of any uprisings either. + +"Our overseer was 'poor white-trash', hired by the master. I remember +the master lived in a big white house and he was always kind to his +slaves, so was his wife and children, but we didn't like the overseer. I +heard of some slaves being whipped, but I never was and I did not see +any of the others get punished. Yes, there was a jail on the plantation +where slaves had to go if they wouldn't behave. I never saw a slave in +chains but I have seen colored men in the chain gang since the war. + +"We had a negro church in town and slaves that could be trusted could go +to church. It was a Methodist Church and we sang negro spirituals. + +"We could go to the funeral of a relative and quit work until it was +over and then went back to work. There was a graveyard on the +plantation. + +"A lot of slaves ran away and if they were caught they were brought back +and put in the stocks until they were sold. The master would never keep +a runaway slave. We used to have fights with the 'white trash' sometimes +and once I was hit by a rock throwed by a white boy and that's what this +lump on my head is. + +"Yes, we had to work every day but Sunday. The slaves did not have any +holidays. I did not have time to play games but used to watch the slaves +sing and dance after dark. I don't remember any stories. + +"When the slaves heard they had been set free, I remember a lot of them +were sorry and did not want to leave the plantation. No, I never heard +of any in our section getting any mules or land. + +"I do remember the 'night riders' that come through our country after +the war. They put the horse shoes on the horses backwards and wrapped +the horses feet in burlap so we couldn't hear them coming. The colored +folks were deathly afraid of these men and would all run and hide when +they heard they were coming. These 'night riders' used to steal +everything the colored people had--even their beds and straw ticks. + +"Right after the war I was brought north by Mr. Kuhns I spoke of, and +for a short while I worked at the milling trade in Tiffin and came to +Canton in 1866. Mr. Kuhns owned a part in the old flour mill here (now +the Ohio Builders and Milling Co.) and he give me a job as a miller. I +worked there until the end of last year, 70 years, and I am sure this is +a record in Canton. No, I never worked any other place. + +"I was married July 4, 1871 to Jennie Scott in Massillon. We had four +children but they are all dead except one boy. Our first baby--a girl +named Mary Jane, born February 21, 1872, was the first colored child +born in Canton. My wife died in 1926. No, I do not know when she was +born, but I do know she was not a slave. + +"I started to vote after I came north but did not ever vote in the +south. I do not like the way the young people of today live; they are +too fast and drink too much. Yes, I think this is true of the white +children the same as the colored. + +"I saved my money when I worked and when I quit I had three properties. +I sold one of these, gave one to my son, and I am living in the other. +No, I have never had to ask for charity. I also get a pension check +from, the mill where I worked so long. + +"I joined church simply because I thought it would make me a better man +and I think every one should belong. I have been a member of St. Paul's +A.M.E. church here in Canton for 54 years. Yesterday (Sunday, August 15, +1937) our church celebrated by burning the mortgage. As I was the oldest +member I was one of the three who lit it, the other two are the only +living charter members. My church friends made me a present yesterday of +$100.00 which was a birthday gift. I was 90 years old the 25th of last +month." + +Hall resides at 1225 High Ave., S.W., Canton, Ohio. + + + + +Miriam Logan +Lebanon, Ohio + +MRS. CELIA HENDERSON, aged 88. +Born Hardin County, Kentucky in 1849 + +(drawing of Celia Henderson) [TR: no drawing found] + + +"Mah mammy were Julia Dittoe, an pappy, he were name Willis Dittoe. Dey +live at Louieville till mammy were sold fo' her marster's debt. She were +a powerful good cook, mammy were--an she were sol' fo to pay dat debt." + +"She tuk us four chillen 'long wid her, an pappy an th' others staid +back in Louieville. Dey tuk us all on a boat de Big Ribber--evah heah ob +de big ribber? Mississippi its name--but we calls it de big ribber." + +"_Natchez on de hill_--dats whaah de tuk us to. Nactchez-on-de-hill dis +side of N' Or'leans. Mammy she have eleven chillen. No 'em, don't +'member all dem names no mo'. No 'em, nevah see pappy no moah. Im +'member mammy cryin' goin' down on de boat, and us chillen a cryin' too, +but de place we got us was a nice place, nicer den what we left. Family +'o name of GROHAGEN it was dat got us. Yas'em dey was nice to mammy fo' +she was a fine cook, mammy wus. A fine cook!" + +"Me? Go'Long! I ain't no sech cook as my mammy was. But mah boy, he were +a fine cook. I ain't nothin' of a cook. Yas'em, I cook fo Mis Gallagher, +an fo 4 o' de sheriffs here, up at de jail. But de fancy cookin' I ain't +much on, no'em I ain't. But mah boy an mammy now, dey was fine! Mah boy +cook at hotels and wealthy homes in Louieville 'til he died." + +"Dey was cotton down dere in Natchez, but no tobacco like up here. No +'em, I nevah wuk in cotton fields. I he'p mammy tote water, hunt chips, +hunt pigs, get things outa de col' house. Dat way, I guess I went to wuk +when I wuz about 7 or 8 yeahs ol'. Chillen is sma't now, an dey hafto be +taught to wuk, but dem days us culled chillen wuk; an we had a good time +wukin' fo dey wernt no shows, no playthings lak dey have now to takey up +day time, no'em." + +"Nevah no church fo' culled people does I 'member in Natchez. One time +dey was a drouth, an de water we hauls from way ovah to de rivah. Now +dat wuz down right wuk, a haulin dat water. Dey wuz an ol' man, he were +powerful in prayer, an gather de darkies unda a big tree, an we all +kneels down whilse he pray fo de po' beastes what needs good clean water +fo to drink. Dat wuz a putty sight, dat church meetin' under de big +tree. I alus member dat, an how, dat day he foun a spring wid he ol' +cane, jes' like a miracle after prayer. It were a putty sight to see mah +cows an all de cattle a trottin' fo dat water. De mens dey dug out a +round pond fo' de water to run up into outa de spring, an it wuz good +watah dat wudn't make de beastes sick, an we-all was sho' happy.'" + +"Yes'em, I'se de only one of mammy's chillen livin'. She had 11 chillen. +Mah gran'na on pappy's side, she live to be one hundred an ten yeah's +ol' powerful ol' ev'y body say, an she were part Indian, gran'ma were, +an dat made her live to be ol'. + +"Me? I had two husband an three chillen. Mah firs' husban die an lef' me +wid three little chillens, an mah secon' husban', he die 'bout six yeahs +ago. Ah cum heah to Lebanon about forty yeahs ago, because mah mammy +were heah, an she wanted me to come. When ah wuz little, we live nine +yeahs in Natchez on de hill. Den when de wah were ovah Mammy she want to +go back to Louieville fo her folks wuz all theah. Ah live in Louieville +til ah cum to Lebanon. All ah 'members bout de close o'de wah, wuz dat +white folks wuz broke up an po' down dere at Natchez; and de fus time ah +hears de EMANICAPTION read out dey was a lot o' prancin 'roun, an a big +time." + +"Ah seen soldiers in blue down there in Natchez on de hill, oncet ah +seen dem cumin down de road when ah were drivin mah cows up de road. Ah +wuz scared sho, an' ah hid in de bushes side o' de road til dey went by, +don' member dat mah cows was much scared though." Mammy say 'bettah hide +when you sees sojers a-marchin by, so dat time a whole line o dem cum +along and I hide." + +"Down dere mammy done her cookin' outa doors, wid a big oven. Yo gits yo +fiah goin' jes so under de oven, den you shovels some fiah up on top de +oven fo to get you bakin jes right. Dey wuz big black kettles wid hooks +an dey run up an down like on pulleys ovah de oven stove. Den dere wuz +de col'house. No 'lectric ice box lak now, but a house under groun' +wheah things wuz kept jest as col' as a ice box. No'em don't 'member jes +how it were fix inside." + +"Yas'em we comes back to Louieville. Yes'em mah chillen goes to school, +lak ah nevah did. Culled teachers in de culled school. Yes'em mah +chillen went far as dey could take 'em." + +"Medicin? My ol' mammy were great fo herb doctorin' an I holds by dat +too a good deal, yas'em. Now-a-days you gets a rusty nail in yo foot an +has lockjaw. But ah member mammy--she put soot mix wid bacon fryin's on +mah foot when ah run a big nail inter it, an mah foot get well as nice!" + +"Long time ago ah cum heah to see mammy, Ah got a terrible misery. Ah +wuz asleep a dreamin bout it, an a sayin, "Mammy yo reckon axel grease +goin' to he'p it?" Den ah wake up an go to her wheahs she's sleepin an +say it. + +"What fo axel grease gointo hep?--an I tol her, an she say:-- + +"Axel grease put on hot, wid red flannel goin'to tak it away chile." + +Ah were an ol' woman mahse'f den--bout fifty, but mammy she climb outa +bed an go out in de yard where deys an ol' wagon, an she scrapes dat +axel off, an heat it up an put it on wid red flannel. Den ah got easy! +Ah sho was thankful when dat grease an flannel got to wukin on me! + +"You try it sometime when you gets one o' dem col' miseries in de winter +time. But go 'long! Folks is too sma't nowadays to use dem good ol' +medicines. Dey jes' calls de Doctor an he come an cut 'em wide open fo +de 'pendycitus--he sho do! Yas'em ah has de doctor, ef ah needs him. Ah +has de rheumatism, no pain--ah jes gets stiffer, an' stiffer right +along." + +Mah sight sho am poor now. Ah cain't wuk no mo. Ah done ironin aftah ah +quit cookin--washin an ironin, ah likes a nice wash an iron the bes fo +wuk. But lasyear mah eyes done give out on me, an dey tell me not to +worry dey gointo give me a pension. De man goes to a heap o' wuk to get +dem papers fix jes right." + +"Yes 'em, I'se de on'y one o' mammy's chillen livin. Mah, gran'ma on +pappy's side, she live to be one hundred and ten yeah's ol--powerful ol +eve'ybody say. She were part Indian, gran' ma were, an dat made her to +be ol." + +"Yes'em, mos' I evah earn were five dollars a week. Ah gets twenty +dollars now, an pays eight dollars fo rent. We is got no mo'--ah +figgers--a wukin fo ourself den what we'd have wuz we slaves, fo dey +gives you a log house, an clothes, an yo eats all yo want to, an when +you _buys_ things, maybe you doesn't make enough to git you what you +needs, wukin sun-up to sun down. No' em 'course ah isn't wukin _now_ +when you gits be de hour--wukin people does now; but ah don't know +nothin 'but that way o'doin." + +"We weahs cotton cloths when ah were young, jes plain weave it were; no +collar nor cuffs, n' belt like store clothes. Den men's jes have a kinda +clothes like ... well, like a chemise, den some pantaloons wid a string +run through at de knees. Bare feet--yes'em, no shoes. Nevah need no coat +down to Natchez, no'em." + +"When we comes back to Louieville on de boat, we sleeps in de straw on +de flo' o' de boat. It gits colder 'n colder! Come big chunks ol ice +down de river. De sky am dark, an hit col' an spit snow. Ah wish ah were +back dere in Natchez dat time after de war were ovah! Yes'em, ah members +dat much." + +"Ah wuk along wid mammy til ah were married, den ah gits on by mahsef. +Manny she come heah to Lebanon wid de Suttons--she married Sam. Sutton's +pappy. Yes 'em dey wuz about 12 o'de fambly cum heah, an ah come to see +mammy,... den ah gits me wuk, an ah stays. + +"Cookin'? Yes'em, way meat is so high now, ah likes groundhog. Ground +hog is good eatin. A peddler was by wid groun' hog fo ten cents apiece. +Ground hog is good as fried chicken any day. You cleans de hog, an boils +it in salt water til its tender. Den you makes flour gravy, puts it on +after de water am drain off; you puts it in de oven wif de lid on an +bakes hit a nice brown. No 'em, don' like fish so well, nor coon, nor +possum, dey is too greasy. Likes chicken, groundhog an pork." Wid de +wild meat you wants plain boiled potatoes, yes'em Irish potatoes, sho +enough, ah heard o' eatin skunk, and muskrat, but ah ain't cookin em. +But ah tells you dat groun' hog is _good eatin_. + +"Ah were Baptized by a white minister in Louieville, an' ah been a +Baptist fo' sixty yeahs now. Yes'em dey is plenty o' colored churches in +Louisville now, but when I were young, de white folks has to see to it +dat we is Baptised an knows Bible verses an' hymns. Dere want no smart +culled preachers like Reverend Williams ... an dey ain't so many now." + +"Up to Xenia is de culled school, an dey is mo's smart culled folks, ol' +ones too--dat could give you-all a real story if you finds dem. But me, +ah cain't read, nor write, and don't member's nuthin fo de War no good." + +Celia is very black as to complexion; tall spare; has small grey eyes. +In three long interviews she has tried very hard to remember for us from +her youth and back through the years; it seems to trouble her that she +cannot remember more. Samuel Sutton's father married her mother. Neither +she or Samuel had the kind of a story to tell that I was expecting to +hear from what little I know about colored people. I may have tried to +get them on the songs and amusements of their youth too often, but it +seems that most that they knew was work; did not sing or have a very +good time. Of course I thought they would say that slavery was terrible, +but was surprised there too. Colored people here are used to having +white people come for them to work as they have no telephones, and most +white people only hire colored help by the day or as needed. Celia and +Samuel, old age pensioners, were very apoligetic because they are no +longer able to work. + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Bishop & Isleman +Reporter: Bishop +[HW: Revised] + +Topic: Ex-Slaves. +Jefferson County, District #5 +July 6, 1937 + +GEORGE JACKSON +Ex-Slave, 79 years + + +I was born in Loudon County, Virginny, Feb. 6, 1858. My mother's name +was Betsy Jackson. My father's name was Henry Jackson. Dey were slaves +and was born right der in Loudon County. I had 16 brothers and sisters. +All of dem is dead. My brothers were Henry, Richard, Wesley, John and +me; Sisters were Annie, Marion, Sarah Jane, Elizabeth, Alice, Cecila and +Meryl. Der were three other chillun dat died when babies. + +I can remember Henry pullin' me out of de fire. I've got scars on my leg +yet. He was sold out of de family to a man dat was Wesley McGuest. +Afterwards my brother was taken sick with small-pox and died. + +We lived on a big plantation right close to Bloomfield, Virginny. I was +born in de storeroom close to massa's home. It was called de weavin' +room--place where dey weaved cotton and yarn. My bed was like a little +cradle bed and dey push it under de big bed at day time. + +My grandfather died so my mother told me, when he was very old. My +grandmother died when se bout 96. She went blind fore she died. Dey were +all slaves. + +My father was owned by John Butler and my grandmother was owned by Tommy +Humphries. Dey were both farmers. My massa joined de war. He was killed +right der where he lived. + +When my father wanted to cum home he had to get a permit from his massa. +He would only cum home on Saturday. He worked on de next plantation +joinin' us. All us chillun and my mother belonged to Massa Humphries. + +I worked in de garden, hoein' weeds and den I washed dishes in de +kitchen. I never got any money. + +I eat fat pork, corn bread, black molasses and bad milk. The meat was +mostly boiled. I lived on fat meat and corn bread. I don't remember +eatin' rabbit, possum or fish. + +De slaves on our plantation did not own der own garden. Dey ate +vegetables out of de big garden. + +In hot weather I wore gean pants and shirt. De pants were red color and +shirt white. I wore heavy woolen clothes in de winter. I wore little +britches wid jacket fastened on. I went barefooted in de summer. + +De mistress scold and beat me when I was pullin' weeds. Sometimes I +pulled a cabbage stead of weed. She would jump me and beat me. I can +remember cryin'. She told me she had to learn me to be careful. I +remember the massa when he went to war. He was a picket in an apple +tree. A Yankee soldier spied and shot him out of de tree. + +I remember Miss Ledig Humphries. She was a pretty girl and she had a +sister Susie. She married a Mr. Chamlain who was overseer. Der were +Robert and Herbert Humphries. Dey were older dan me. Robert wuz about 15 +years old when de war surrender. + +De one that married Susie was de overseer. He was pretty rough. I don't +remember any white neighbors round at dat time. + +Der were 450 acres of de plantation. I can't remember all de slaves. I +know der were 80, odd slaves. + +Lots of mornings I would go out hours fore daylight and when it was cold +my feet would 'most freeze. They all knew dey had to get up in de +mornin'. De slaves all worked hard and late at night. + +I heerd some say that the overseer would take dem to de barn. I remember +Tom Lewis. Then his massa sold him to our massa he told him not to let +the overseer whip him. The overseer said he would whip him. One day Tom +did something wrong. The overseer ordered him to de barn. Tom took his +shirt off to get ready for de whippin' and when de overseer raised de +whip Tom gave him one lick wid his fist and broke de overseer's neck. + +Den de massa sold Tom to a man by de name of Joseph Fletcher. He stayed +with old man Fletcher til he died. + +Fore de slaves were sold dey were put in a cell place til next day when +dey would be sold. Uncle Marshall and Douglas were sold and I remember +dem handcuffed but I never saw dem on de auction block. + +I never knew nothin' bout de Bible til after I was free. I went to +school bout three months. I was 19 or 20 years old den. + +My uncle Bill heard dey were goin' to sell him and he run away. He went +north and cum back after de surrender. He died in Bluemont, Virginny, +bout four years ago. + +After de days work dey would have banjo pickin', singin' and dancin'. +Dey work all day Saturday and Saturday night those dat had wives to see +would go to see dem. On Sunday de would sit around. + +When Massa was shot my mother and dem was cryin'. + +When Slaves were sick one of the mammies would look after dem and dey +would call de doctor if she couldn't fix de sick. + +I remember de big battle dey fought for four days on de plantation. That +was de battle of Bull Run. I heard shootin' and saw soldiers shot down. +It was one of de worst fights of de war. It was right between Blue Ridge +and Bull Run mountain. De smoke from de shootin' was just like a fog. I +saw horses and men runnin' to de fight and men shot off de horses. I +heard de cannon roar and saw de locust tree cut off in de yard. Some of +de bullets smashed de house. De apple tree where my massa was shot from +was in de orchard not far from de house. + +De Union Soldiers won de battle and dey camped right by de house. Dey +helped demselves to de chickens and cut their heads off wid their +swords. Dey broke into de cellar and took wine and preserves. + +After de war I worked in de cornfield. Dey pay my mother for me in food +and clothes. But dey paid my mother money for workin' in de kitchen. + +De slaves were awful glad bout de surrender. + +De Klu Klux Klan, we called dem de paroles, dey would run de colored +people, who were out late, back home. I know no school or church or land +for negroes. I married in Farguar [HW: Farquhar] Co., state of Virginny, +in de county seat. Dat was in 1883. I was married by a Methodist +preacher in Leesburg. I did not get drunk, but had plenty to drink. We +had singin' and music. My sister was a religious woman and would not +allow dancin'. + +I have fourteen chillun. Four boys are livin' and two girls. All are +married. George, my oldest boy graduated from grade school and de next +boy. I have 24 grandchillun and one great grandson. John, my son is +sickly and not able to work and my daughter, Mamie has nine chillun to +support. Her husband doesn't have steady work. + +The grandchillun are doin' pretty well. + +I think Abraham Lincoln was a fine man. It was put in his mind to free +de colored people. Booker T. Washington was alright. + +Henry Logan, a colored man that lives near Bridgeport, Ohio is a great +man. He is a deacon in de Mt. Zion Baptist church. He is a plasterer and +liked by de colored and white people. + +I think it wuz a fine thing that slavery was finished. I don't have a +thing more than my chillun and dey are all poor. (A grandchild nearby +said, "We are as poor as church mice".) My chillun are my best friends +and dey love me. + +I first joined church at Upperville, Virginny. I was buried under de +water. I feel dat everybody should have religion. Dey get on better in +dis life, and not only in dis life but in de life to cum. + +My overseer wuz just a plain man. He wasn't hard. I worked for him since +the surrender and since I been a man. I was down home bout six yares ago +and met de overseer's son and he took me and my wife around in his +automobile. + +My wife died de ninth of last October (1936). I buried her in Week's +cemetery, near Bridgeport, Ohio. We have a family burial lot there. Dat +where I want to be buried, if I die around here. + + +Description of GEORGE JACKSON [TR: original "Word Picture" struck out] + +George Jackson is about 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighs 145 lbs. He has +not done any manual labor for the past two years. He attends church +regularly at the Mt. Zion Baptist church. As he only attended school +about four months his reading is limited. His vision and hearing is fair +and he takes a walk everyday. He does not smoke, chew or drink +intoxicating beverages. + +His wife, Malina died October 9, 1936 and was buried at Bridgeport, +Ohio. He lives with his daughter-in-law whose husband forks for a junk +dealer. The four room house that they rent for $20 per month is in a bad +state of repairs and is in the midst of one of the poorest sections of +Steubenville. + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Written by Bishop & Isleman +Edited by Albert I. Dugen [TR: also reported as Dugan] + +Ex-Slaves +Jefferson County, District #2 + +PERRY SID JEMISON [TR: also reported as Jamison] +Ex-Slave, 79 years + + +(Perry Sid Jemison lives with his married daughter and some of his +grand-children at 422 South Sixth Street, Steubenville, O.) + +"I wuz borned in Perry County, Alabama! De way I remember my age is, I +was 37 years when I wuz married and dat wuz 42 years ago the 12th day of +last May. I hed all dis down on papers, but I hab been stayin' in +different places de last six years and lost my papers and some heavy +insurance in jumpin' round from place to place. + +"My mudders name wuz Jane Perry. Father's name wuz Sid Jemison. Father +died and William Perry was mudders second husband. + +"My mudder wuz a Virginian and my father was a South Carolinian. My +oldest brodder was named Sebron and oldest sister wuz Maggie. Den de +next brudder wuz William, de next sister wuz named Artie, next Susie. +Dats all of dem. + +"De hol entire family lived together on the Cakhoba river, Perry County, +Alabama. After dat we wuz scattered about, some God knows where. + +"We chillun played 'chicken me craner crow'. We go out in de sand and +build sand houses and put out little tools and one thing and another in +der. + +"When we wuz all together we lived in a log hut. Der wuz a porch in +between and two rooms on each side. De porch wuz covered over--all of it +wuz under one roof. + +"Our bed wuz a wooden frame wid slats nailed on it. We jus had a common +hay mattress to sleep on. We had very respectable quilts, because my +mudder made them. I believe we had better bed covers dem days den we hab +des days. + +"My grandmother wuz named Snooky and my grandfather Anthony. I thought +der wasn't a better friend in all de world den my grandmother. She would +do all she could for her grandchildren. Der wuz no food allowance for +chillun that could not work and my grandmother fed us out of her and my +mudders allowance. I member my grandmudder giving us pot-licker, bread +and red syrup. + +"De furst work I done to get my food wuz to carry water in de field to +de hands dat wuz workin'. De next work after dat, wuz when I wuz large +enough to plow. Den I done eberything else that come to mind on de farm. +I neber earned money in dem slave days. + +"Your general food wuz such as sweet potatoes, peas and turnip greens. +Den we would jump out and ketch a coon or possum. We ate rabbits, +squirrels, ground-hog and hog meat. We had fish, cat-fish and scale +fish. Such things as greens, we boil dem. Fish we fry. Possum we parboil +den pick him up and bake him. Of all dat meat I prefar fish and rabbit. +When it come to vegetables, cabbage wuz my delight, and turnips. De +slaves had their own garden patch. + +"I wore one piece suit until I wuz near grown, jes one garment dat we +called et dat time, going out in your shirt tail. In de winter we had +cotton shirt with a string to tie de collar, instead of a button and +tie. We war den same on Sunday, excepting dat mudder would wash and iron +dem for dat day. + +"We went barefooted in de summer and in de winter we wore brogan shoes. +Dey were made of heavy stiff leather. + +"My massa wuz named Sam Jemison and his wife wuz named Chloe. Dey had +chillun. One of the boys wuz named Sam after his father. De udder wuz +Jack. Der wuz daughter Nellie. Dem wuz all I know bout. De had a large +six room building. It wuz weather boarded and built on de common order. + +"Dey hed 750 acres on de plantation. De Jemisons sold de plantation to +my uncle after the surrender and I heard him say ever so many times that +it was 750 acres. Der wuz bout 60 slaves on de plantation. Dey work hard +and late at night. Dey tole me dey were up fore daylight and in de +fields til dark. + +"I heard my mudder say dat the mistress was a fine woman, but dat de +marse was rigied [TR: rigid?]. + +"De white folks did not help us to learn to read or write. De furst +school I remember dat wuz accessbile was foh 90 days duration. I could +only go when it wuz too wet to work in de fields. I wuz bout 16 years +when I went to de school. + +"Der wuz no church on de plantation. Couldn't none of us read. But after +de surrender I remember de furst preacher I ebber heard. I remember de +text. His name was Charles Fletcher. De text was "Awake thou dat +sleepeth, arise from de dead and Christ will give you life!" I remember +of one of de baptizing. De men dat did it was Emanuel Sanders. Dis wuz +de song dat dey sing: "Beside de gospel pool, Appointed for de poor." +Dat is all I member of dat song now. + +"I heard of de slaves running away to de north, but I nebber knew one to +do it. My mudder tole me bout patrollers. Dey would ketch de slaves when +dey were out late and whip and thress dem. Some of de owners would not +stand for it and if de slaves would tell de massa he might whip de +patrollers if he could ketch dem. + +"I knowed one colored boy. He wuz a fighter. He wuz six foot tall and +over 200 pounds. He would not stand to be whipped by de white man. Dey +called him Jack. Des wuz after de surrender. De white men could do +nothin' wid him. En so one day dey got a crowd together and dey shoot +him. It wuz a senation[TR: sensation?] in de country, but no one was +arrested for it. + +"De slaves work on Saturday afternoon and sometimes on Sunday. On +Saturday night de slaves would slip around to de next plantation and +have parties and dancin' and so on. + +"When I wuz a child I played, 'chicken me craner crow' and would build +little sand houses and call dem frog dens and we play hidin' switches. +One of de play songs wuz 'Rockaby Miss Susie girl' and 'Sugar Queen in +goin south, carrying de young ones in her mouth.' + +"I remember several riddles. One wuz: + + 'My father had a little seal, + Sixteen inches high. + He roamed the hills in old Kentuck, + And also in sunny Spain. + If any man can beat dat, + I'll try my hand agin.' + +"One little speech I know: + + 'I tumbled down one day, + When de water was wide and deep + I place my foot on the de goose's back + And lovely swam de creek.' + +"When I wuz a little boy I wuz follin' wid my father's scythe. It fell +on my arm and nearly cut if off. Dey got somethin' and bind it up. +Eventually after a while, it mended up. + +"De marse give de sick slaves a dose of turpentine, blue mass, caromel +and number six. + +"After de surrender my mother tole me dat the marse told de slaves dat +dey could buy de place or dey could share de crops wid him and he would +rent dem de land. + +"I married Lizzie Perry, in Perry County Alabama. A preacher married us +by the name of John Jemison. We just played around after de weddin' and +hed a good time til bedtime come, and dat wuz very soon wid me. + +"I am de father of seven chillun. Both daughters married and dey are +housekeepers. I have 11 grandchillun. Three of dem are full grown and +married. One of dem has graduated from high school. + +"Abraham Lincoln fixed it so de slaves could be free. He struck off de +handcuffs and de ankle cuffs from de slaves. But how could I be free if +I had to go back to my massa and beg for bread, clothes and shelter? It +is up to everybody to work for freedom. + +"I don't think dat Jefferson Davus wuz much in favor of liberality. I +think dat Booker T. Washington wuz a man of de furst magnitude. When it +come to de historiance I don't know much about dem, but according to +what I red in dem, Fred Douglas, Christopher Hatton, Peter Salem, all of +dem colored men--dey wuz great men. Christopher Hatton wuz de furst +slave to dream of liberty and den shed his blood for it. De three of dem +play a conspicuous part in de emancipation. + +"I think it's a good thing dat slavery is ended, for God hadn't intended +there to be no man a slave. + +"My reason for joining de church is, de church is said to be de furst +born, the general assembly of the living God. I joined it to be in the +general assembly of God. + +"We have had too much destructive religion. We need pure and undefiled +religion. If we had dat religion, conditions would be de reverse of that +dey are." + + +(Note: The worker who interviewed this old man was impressed with his +deep religious nature and the manner in which there would crop out in +his conversation the facile use of such words as eventually, general, +accessible, etc. The interview also revealed that the old man had a +knowledge of the scripture. He claims to be a preacher and during the +conversation gave indications of the oratory that is peculiar to old +style colored preachers.) + + +Word Picture of PERRY SID JAMISON and his Home + +[TR: also reported as Jemison] + +Mr. Jamison is about 5'2" and weighs 130 pounds. Except for a slight +limp, caused by a broken bone that did not heal, necessitating the use +of a cane, he gets around in a lively manner. He takes a walk each +morning and has a smile for everybody. + +Mr. Jamison is an elder in the Second Baptist Church and possesses a +deep religious nature. In his conversation there crops out the facile +use of such words as "eventually", "general", "accessible", and the +like. He has not been engaged in manual labor since 1907. Since then he +has made his living as an evangelist for the colored Baptist church. + +Mr. Jamison says he does not like to travel around without something +more than a verbal word to certify who and what he is. He produced a +certificate from the "Illinois Theological Seminary" awarding him the +degree of Doctor of Divinity and dated December 15, 1933, and signed by +Rev. Walter Pitty for the trustees and S. Billup, D.D., Ph.D. as the +president. Another document was a minister's license issued by the +Probate court of Jefferson county authorizing him to perform marriage +ceremonies. He has his ordination certificate dated November 7, 1900, at +Red Mountain Baptist Church, Sloss, Alabama, which certifies that he was +ordained an elder of that church; it is signed by Dr. G.S. Smith, +Moderator. Then he has two letters of recommendation from churches in +Alabama and Chicago. + +That Mr. Jamison is a vigerous preacher is attested by other ministers +who say they never knew a man of his age to preach like he does. + +Mr. Jamison lives with his daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Cookes, whose +husband is a WPA worker. Also living in the house is the daughter's son, +employed as a laborer, and his wife. Between them all, a rent of $28.00 +a month is paid for the house of six rooms. The house at 424 S. Seventh +Street, Steubenville, is in a respectable part of the city and is of the +type used by poorer classes of laborers. + +Mr. Jamison's wife died June 4, 1928, and since then he has lived with +his daughter. In his conversation he gives indication of a latent +oratory easily called forth. + + + + +K. Osthimer, Author + +Folklore: Stories From Ex-Slaves +Lucas County, Dist. 9 +Toledo, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. JULIA KING of Toledo, Ohio. + + +Mrs. Julia King resides at 731 Oakwood Avenue, Toledo, Ohio. Although +the records of the family births were destroyed by a fire years ago, +Mrs. King places her age at about eighty years. Her husband, Albert +King, who died two years ago, was the first Negro policeman employed on +the Toledo police force. Mrs. King, whose hair is whitening with age, is +a kind and motherly woman, small in stature, pleasing and quiet in +conversation. She lives with her adopted daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth King +Kimbrew, who works as an elevator operator at the Lasalle & Koch Co. +Mrs. King walks with a limp and moves about with some difficulty. She +was the first colored juvenile officer in Toledo, and worked for twenty +years under Judges O'Donnell and Austin, the first three years as a +volunteer without pay. + +Before her marriage, Mrs. King was Julia Ward. She was born in +Louisville, Kentucky. Her parents Samuel and Matilda Ward, were slaves. +She had one sister, Mary Ward, a year and a half older than herself. + +She related her story in her own way. "Mamma was keeping house. Papa +paid the white people who owned them, for her time. He left before Momma +did. He run away to Canada on the Underground Railroad. + +"My mother's mistress--I don't remember her name--used to come and take +Mary with her to market every day. The morning my mother ran away, her +mistress decided she wouldn't take Mary with her to market. Mamma was +glad, because she had almost made up her mind to go, even without Mary. + +"Mamma went down to the boat. A man on the boat told Mamma not to answer +the door for anybody, until he gave her the signal. The man was a +Quaker, one of those people who says 'Thee' and 'Thou'. Mary kept on +calling out the mistress's name and Mamma couldn't keep her still. + +"When the boat docked, the man told Mamma he thought her master was +about. He told Mamma to put a veil over her face, in case the master was +coming. He told Mamma he would cut the master's heart out and give it to +her, before he would ever let her be taken. + +"She left the boat before reaching Canada, somewhere on the Underground +Railroad--Detroit, I think--and a woman who took her in said: 'Come in, +my child, you're safe now.' Then Mama met my father in Windsor. I think +they were taken to Canada free. + +"I don't remember anything about grandparents at all. + +"Father was a cook. + +"Mother's mistress was always good and kind to her. + +"When I was born, mother's master said he was worth three hundred +dollars more. I don't know if he ever would have sold me. + +"I think our home was on the plantation. We lived in a cabin and there +must have been at least six or eight cabins. + +"Uncle Simon, who boarded with me in later years, was a kind of +overseer. Whenever he told his master the slaves did something wrong, +the slaves were whipped, and Uncle Simon was whipped, too. I asked him +why he should be whipped, he hadn't done anything wrong. But Uncle Simon +said he guessed he needed it anyway. + +"I think there was a jail on the plantation, because Mamma said if the +slaves weren't in at a certain hour at night, the watchman would lock +them up if he found them out after hours without a pass. + +"Uncle Simon used to tell me slaves were not allowed to read and write. +If you ever got caught reading or writing, the white folks would punish +you. Uncle Simon said they were beaten with a leather strap cut into +strips at the end. + +"I think the colored folks had a church, because Mamma was always a +Baptist. Only colored people went to the church. + +"Mamma used to sing a song: + + "Don't you remember the promise that you made, + To my old dying mother's request? + That I never should be sold, + Not for silver or for gold. + While the sun rose from the East to the West? + + "And it hadn't been a year, + The grass had not grown over her grave. + I was advertised for sale. + And I would have been in jail, + If I had not crossed the deep, dancing waves. + + "I'm upon the Northern banks + And beneath the Lion's paw, + And he'll growl if you come near the shore. + +"The slaves left the plantation because they were sold and their +children were sold. Sometimes their masters were mean and cranky. + +"The slaves used to get together in their cabins and tell one another +the news in the evening. They visited, the same as anybody else. +Evenings, Mamma did the washing and ironing and cooked for my father. + +"When the slaves got sick, the other slaves generally looked after them. +They had white doctors, who took care of the families, and they looked +after the slaves, too, but the slaves looked after each other when they +got sick. + +"I remember in the Civil War, how the soldiers went away. I seen them +all go to war. Lots of colored folks went. That was the time we were +living in Detroit. The Negro people were tickled to death because it was +to free the slaves. + +"Mamma said the Ku Klux was against the Catholics, but not against the +Negroes. The Nightriders would turn out at night. They were also called +the Know-Nothings, that's what they always said. They were the same as +the Nightriders. One night, the Nightriders in Louisville surrounded a +block of buildings occupied by Catholic people. They permitted the women +and children to exscape, but killed all the men. When they found out the +men were putting on women's clothes, they killed everything, women and +children, too. It was terrible. That must have been about eighty years +ago, when I was a very little girl. + +"There was no school for Negro children during slavery, but they have +schools in Louisville, now, and they're doing fine. + +"I had two little girls. One died when she was three years old, the +other when she was thirteen. I had two children I adopted. One died just +before she was to graduate from Scott High School. + +"I think Lincoln was a grand man! He was the first president I heard of. +Jeff Davis, I think he was tough. He was against the colored people. He +was no friend of the colored people. Abe Lincoln was a real friend. + +"I knew Booker T. Washington and his wife. I belonged to a society that +his wife belonged to. I think it was called the National Federation of +Colored Women's Clubs. I heard him speak here in Toledo. I think it was +in the Methodist church. He wanted the colored people to educate +themselves. Lots of them wanted to be teachers and doctors, but he +wanted them to have farms. He wanted them to get an education and make +something of themselves. All the prominent Negro women belonged to the +Club. We met once a year. I went to quite a few cities where the +meetings were held: Detroit, Cleveland, and Philadelphia. + +"The only thing I had against Frederick Douglass was that he married a +white woman. I never heard Douglass speak. + +"I knew some others too. I think Paul Lawrence Dunbar was a fine young +man. I heard him recite his poems. He visited with us right here several +times. + +"I knew Charles Cottrell, too. He was an engraver. There was a young +fellow who went to Scott High. He was quite an artist; I can't remember +his name. He was the one who did the fine picture of my daughter that +hangs in the parlor. + +"I think slavery is a terrible system. I think slavery is the cause of +mixing. If people want to choose somebody, it should be their own color. +Many masters had children from their Negro slaves, but the slaves +weren't able to help themselves. + +"I'm a member of the Third Baptist Church. None join unless they've been +immersed. That's what I believe in. I don't believe in christening or +pouring. When the bishop was here from Cleveland, I said I wanted to be +immersed. He said, 'We'll take you under the water as far as you care to +go.' I think the other churches are good, too. But I was born and raised +a Baptist. Joining a church or not joining a church won't keep you out +of heaven, but I think you should join a church." + +(Interview, Thursday, June 10, 1937.) + + + + +Story and Photo by Frank M. Smith + +Ex-Slaves +Mahoning County, Dist. #5 +Youngstown, Ohio + +The Story of MRS. ANGELINE LESTER, of Youngstown, Ohio. + +[Illustration: Angeline Lester] + + +Mrs. Angeline Lester lives at 836 West Federal Street, on U.S. Route +#422, in a very dilapidated one story structure, which once was a retail +store room with an addition built on the rear at a different floor +level. + +Angeline lives alone and keeps her several cats and chickens in the +house with her. She was born on the plantation of Mr. Womble, near +Lumpkin, Stewart County, Georgia about 1847, the exact date not known to +her, where she lived until she was about four years old. Then her father +was sold to a Dr. Sales, near Brooksville, Georgia, and her mother and a +sister two years younger were sold to John Grimrs[HW:?], who in turn +gave them to his newly married daughter, the bride of Henry Fagen, and +was taken to their plantation, near Benevolence, Randolph County, +Georgia. + +When the Civil War broke out, Angeline, her mother and sister were +turned over to Robert Smith, who substituted for Henry Fagen, in the +Confederate Army. + +Angeline remembers the soldiers coming to the plantation, but any news +about the war was kept from them. After the war a celebration was held +in Benevolence, Georgia, and Angeline says it was here she first tasted +a roasted piece of meat. + +The following Sunday, the negroes were called to their master's house +where they were told they were free, and those who wished, could go, and +the others could stay and he would pay them a fair wage, but if they +left they could take only the clothing on their back. Angeline said "We +couldn't tote away much clothes, because we were only given one pair of +shoes and two dresses a year." + +Not long after the surrender Angeline said, "My father came and gathered +us up and took us away and we worked for different white folks for +money". As time went on, Angeline's father and mother passed away, and +she married John Lester whom she has outlived. + +Angeline enjoys good health considering her age and she devotes her time +working "For De Laud". She says she has "Worked for De Laud in New +Castle, Pennsylvania, and I's worked for De Laud in Akron". She also +says "De Laud does not want me to smoke, or drink even tea or coffee, I +must keep my strength to work for De Laud". + +After having her picture taken she wanted to know what was to be done +with it and when told it was to be sent to Columbus or maybe to +Washington, D.C. she said "Lawsy me, if you had tol' me befo' I'd fixed +up a bit." + + + + +Betty Lugabill, Reporter [TR: also reported as Lugabell] +Harold Pugh, Editor +R.S. Drum, Supervisor +Jun 9, 1937 + +Folklore: Ex-Slaves +Paulding Co., District 10 + +KISEY McKIMM +Ex-Slave, 83 years + + +Ah was born in Bourbon county, sometime in 1853, in the state of +Kaintucky where they raise fine horses and beautiful women. Me 'n my +Mammy, Liza 'n Joe, all belonged to Marse Jacob Sandusky the richest man +in de county. Pappy, he belonged to de Henry Young's who owned de +plantation next to us. + +Marse Jacob was good to his slaves, but his son, Clay was mean. Ah +remembah once when he took mah Mammy out and whipped her cauz she forgot +to put cake in his basket, when he went huntin'. But dat was de las' +time, cauz de master heard of it and cussed him lak God has come down +from Hebbin. + +Besides doin' all de cookin' 'n she was de best in de county, mah Mammy +had to help do de chores and milk fifteen cows. De shacks of all de +slaves was set at de edge of a wood, an' Lawse, honey, us chillun used +to had to go out 'n gatha' all de twigs 'n brush 'n sweep it jes' lak a +floor. + +Den de Massa used to go to de court house in Paris 'n buy sheep an' +hogs. Den we use to help drive dem home. In de evenin' our Mammy took de +old cloes of Mistress Mary 'n made cloes fo' us to wear. Pappy, he come +ovah to see us every Sunday, through de summer, but in de winter, we +would only see him maybe once a month. + +De great day on de plantation, was Christmas when we all got a little +present from de Master. De men slaves would cut a whole pile of wood fo' +de fiah place 'n pile it on de porch. As long as de whole pile of wood +lasted we didn't hab to work but when it was gone, our Christmas was +ovah. Sometimes on Sunday afternoons, we would go to de Master's honey +room 'n he would gib us sticks of candied honey, an' Lawd chile was dem +good. I et so much once, ah got sick 'nough to die. + +Our Master was what white folks call a "miser". I remembah one time, he +hid $3,000, between de floor an' de ceilin', but when he went fur it, de +rats had done chewed it all up into bits. He used to go to de stock +auction, every Monday, 'n he didn't weah no stockings. He had a high +silk hat, but it was tore so bad, dat he held de top n' bottom to-gether +wid a silk neckerchief. One time when ah went wid him to drive de sheep +home, ah heard some of de men wid kid gloves, call him a "hill-billy" 'n +make fun of his clothes. But he said, "Don't look at de clothes, but +look at de man". + +One time, dey sent me down de road to fetch somethin' 'n I heerd a bunch +of horses comin', ah jumped ovah de fence 'n hid behind de elderberry +bushes, until dey passed, den ah ran home 'n tol' 'em what ah done seen. +Pretty soon dey come to de house, 125 Union soldiers an' asked fo' +something to eat. We all jumped roun' and fixed dem a dinnah, when dey +finished, dey looked for Master, but he was hid. Dey was gentlemen 'n +didn't botha or take nothin'. When de war was ovah de Master gave Mammy +a house an' 160 acre farm, but when he died, his son Clay tole us to get +out of de place or he'd burn de house an' us up in it, so we lef an' +moved to Paris. After I was married 'n had two children, me an my man +moved north an' I've been heah evah since. + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Bishop & Isleman +Reporter: Bishop +July 7, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-Slaves. +Jefferson County, District #5 +[HW: Steubenville] + +THOMAS McMILLAN, Ex-Slave +(Does not know age) + + +I was borned in Monroe County, Alabam. I do not know de date. My +father's name was Dave McMillan and my mothers name was Minda. Dey cum +from Old Virginny and he was sold from der. We lived in a log house. De +beds hed ropes instead of slats and de chillun slept on de floor. + +Dey put us out in de garden to pick out weeds from de potatoes. We did +not get any money. We eat bread, syrup and potatoes. It wuz cooked in +pots and some was made in fire, like ash cakes. We hed possum lots of +times and rabbit and squirrel. When dey go fishin' we hed fish to eat. I +liked most anything they gave us to eat. + +In de summer we wore white shirt and pants and de same in de winter. We +wore brogans in de winter too. + +De Massa name wuz John and his wife died before I know her. He hed a boy +named John. He lived in a big house. He done de overseeing himself. + +He hed lots of acres in his plantation and he hed a big gang of slaves. +He hed a man to go and call de slaves up at 4 o'clock every morning. He +was good to his slaves and did not work them so late at night. I heard +some of de slaves on other plantations being punished, but our boss take +good care of us. + +Our Massa learn some of us to read and write, but some of de udder +massas did not. + +We hed church under a arbor. De preacher read de bible and he told us +what to do to be saved. I 'member he lined us up on Jordan's bank and we +sung behind him. + +De partrollers watch de slaves who were out at night. If dey have a pass +dey were alright. If not dey would get into it. De patrollers whip dem +and carry dem home. + +On Saturday afternoon dey wash de clothes and stay around. On Sunday dey +go to church. On Christmas day we did not work and dey make a nice meal +for us. We sometimes shuck corn at night. We pick cotton plenty. + +When we were chillun me other brudders and five sisters played marbles +together. + +I saw de blue jackets, dat's what we called de Yankee soldiers. When we +heard of our freedom we hated it because we did not know what it was for +and did not know where to go. De massa say we could stay as long as we +pleased. + +De Yankee soldier asked my father what dey wuz all doing around der and +that dey were free. But we did not know where to go. We stayed on wid de +massa for a long time after de war wuz over. + +De Klu Klux Klan wuz pretty rough to us and dey whip us. Der was no +school for us colored people. + +I wuz nearly 20 when I first took up with my first woman and lived with +her 20 years den I marry my present wife. I married her in Alabama and +Elder Worthy wuz de preacher. We had seven chillun, all grandchillun are +dead. I don't know where dey all are at excepting me daughter in +Steubenville and she is a widow. She been keepin' rooms and wash a +little for her living. + +I didn't hear much bout de politics but I think Abraham Lincoln done +pretty well. I reckon Jefferson Davis did the best he knowed how. Booker +T. Washington, I nebber seen him, but he wuz a great man. + +Religion is all right; can't find no fault with religion. I think all of +us ought to be religious because the dear Lord died for us all. Dis +world would be a better place if we all were religious. + + +Word Picture of MR. MCMILLAN + +Thomas McMillan, 909 Morris Ave., Steubenville, Ohio. He lives with his +wife, Toby who is over 50 years old. He makes his living using a hand +cart to collect junk. He is 5'6" tall and weighs 155 pounds. His beard +is gray and hair white and close cropped. He attends Mt. Zion Baptist +Church and lives his religion. He is able to read a little and takes +pleasure in reading the bible and newspaper. + +He has seven children. He has not heard of them for several years except +one daughter who lives in Steubenville and is a widow. + +His home is a three room shack and his landlord lets him stay there rent +free. The houses in the general surrounding are in a run down condition. + + + + +Wilbur Ammon, Editor +George Conn, Writer +C.R. McLean, District Supervisor +June 16, 1937 + +Folklore +Summit County, District #9 + +SARAH MANN + + +Mrs. Mann places her birth sometime in 1861 during the first year of the +Civil War, on a plantation owned by Dick Belcher, about thirty miles +southwest of Richmond, Virginia. + +Her father, Frederick Green, was owned by Belcher and her mother, Mandy +Booker, by Race Booker on an adjoining plantation. Her grandparents were +slaves of Race Booker. + +After the slaves were freed she went with her parents to Clover Hill, a +small hamlet, where she worked out as a servant until she married +Beverly Mann. Rev. Mike Vason, a white minister, performed the ceremony +with, only her parents and a few friends present. At the close of the +ceremony, the preacher asked if they would "live together as Isaac and +Rebecca did." Upon receiving a satisfactory reply, he pronounced them +man and wife. + +Mr. and Mrs. Mann were of a party of more than 100 ex-slaves who left +Richmond in 1880 for Silver Creek where Mr. Mann worked in the coal +mines. Two years later they moved to Wadsworth where their first child +was born. + +In 1883 they came to Akron. Mr. Mann, working as laborer, was able to +purchase two houses on Furnace Street, the oldest and now one of the +poorer negro sections of the city. It is situated on a high bluff +overlooking the Little Cuyahoga River. + +Today Mrs. Mann, her daughter, a son-in-law and one grandchild occupy +one of the houses. Three children were born to Mr. and Mrs. Mann, but +only one is living. Mr. Mann, a deacon in the church, died three years +ago. Time has laid its heavy hand on her property. It is the average +home of colored people living in this section, two stories, small front +yeard, enclosed with wooden picket fence. A large coal stove in front +room furnishes heat. In recent years electricity has supplanted the +overhead oil lamp. + +Most of the furnishings were purchased in early married life. They are +somewhat worn but arranged in orderly manner and are clean. + +Mrs. Mann is tall and angular. Her hair is streaked with gray, her face +thin, with eyes and cheek bones dominating. With little or no southern +accent, she speaks freely of her family, but refrains from discussing +affairs of others of her race. + +She is a firm believer in the Bible. It is apparent she strives to lead +a religious life according to her understanding. She is a member of the +Second Baptist Church since its organization in 1892. + +Having passed her three score and ten years she is "ready to go when the +Lord calls her." + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Bishop & Isleman +Reporter: Bishop +(Revision) +July 8, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-Slaves +Jefferson County, District #5 + +JOHN WILLIAMS MATHEUS +Ex-Slave, 77 years + + +"My mothers name was Martha. She died when I was eleven months old. My +mother was owned by Racer Blue and his wife Scotty. When I was bout +eleven or twelve they put me out with Michael Blue and his wife Mary. +Michael Blue was a brother to Racer Blue. Racer Blue died when I was +three or four. I have a faint rememberance of him dying suddenly one +night and see him laying out. He was the first dead person I saw and it +seemed funny to me to see him laying there so stiff and still." + +"I remember the Yankee Soldier, a string of them on horses, coming +through Springfield, W. Va. It was like a circus parade. What made me +remember that, was a colored man standing near me who had a new hat on +his head. A soldier came by and saw the hat and he took it off the +colored man's head, and put his old dirty one on the colored man's head +and put the nice new one on his own head." + +"I think Abraham Lincoln the greatest man that ever lived. He belonged +to no church; but he sure was Christian. I think he was born for the +time and if he lived longer he would have done lots of good for the +colored people." + +"I wore jeans and they got so stiff when they were wet that they would +stand up. I wore boots in the winter, but none in the summer." + +"When slavery was going on there was the 'underground railway' in Ohio. +But after the surrender some of the people in Ohio were not so good to +the colored people. The old folks told me they were stoned when they +came across the river to Ohio after the surrender and that the colored +people were treated like cats and dogs." + +"Mary Blue had two daughters, both a little older than me and I played +with them. One day they went to pick berries. When they came back they +left the berries on the table in the kitchen and went to the front room +to talk to their mother. I remember the two steps down to the room and I +came to listen to them tell about berry pickin'. Then their mother told +me to go sweep the kitchen. I went and took the broom and saw the +berries. I helped myself to the berries. Mary wore soft shoes, so I did +not hear her coming until she was nearly in the room. I had berries in +my hand and I closed my hand around the handle of the broom with the +berries in my hand. She says, 'John, what are you doin'? I say, +'nothin'. Den she say, 'Let me see your hand! I showed her my hand with +nothin' in it. She say, 'let me see the other hand! I had to show her my +hand with the berries all crushed an the juice on my hand and on the +handle of the broom." + +"Den she say; 'You done two sins'. 'You stole the berries!, I don't mind +you having the berries, but you should have asked for them. 'You stole +them and you have sinned. 'Den you told a lie! She says, 'John I must +punish you, I want you to be a good man; don't try to be a great man, be +a good man then you will be a great man! She got a switch off a peach +tree and she gave me a good switching. I never forgot being caught with +the berries and the way she talked bout my two sins. That hurt me worse +than the switching. I never stole after that." + +"I stayed with Michael and Mary Blue till I was nineteen. They were +supposed to give me a saddle and bridle, clothes and a hundred dollars. +The massa made me mad one day. I was rendering hog fat. When the +crackling would fizzle, he hollo and say 'don't put so much fire.' He +came out again and said, 'I told you not to put too much fire,' and he +threatened to give me a thrashing. I said, 'If you do I will throw rocks +at you.'" + +"After that I decided to leave and I told Anna Blue I was going. She +say, 'Don't do it, you are too young to go out into the world.' I say, I +don't care, and I took a couple of sacks and put in a few things and +walked to my uncle. He was a farmer at New Creek. He told me he would +get me a job at his brothers farm until they were ready to use me in the +tannary. He gave me eight dollars a month until the tanner got ready to +use me. I went to the tanner and worked for eight dollars a week. Then I +came to Steubenville. I got work and stayed in Steubenville 18 months. +Then I went back and returned to Steubenville in 1884." + + +Word Picture of JOHN WILLIAM MATHEUS + +Mr. John William Matheus is about 5'4" and weighs about 130 pounds. He +looks smart in his bank messenger uniform. On his sleeve he wears nine +stripes. Each stripe means five years service. Two years were served +before he earned his first strip, so that gives him a total of 47 years +service for the Union Savings Bank and Trust Company, Steubenville, +Ohio. He also wears a badge which designates him as a deputy sheriff of +Jefferson County. + +Mr. Matheus lives with his wife at 203 Dock Street. This moderate sized +and comfortable home he has owned for over 40 years. His first wife died +several years ago. During his first marriage nine children came to them. +In his second marriage one child was born. + +His oldest son is John Frederick Matheus. He is a professor at +[Charleston] [HW: West Virginia] State College Institute. He was born in +Steubenville and graduated from Steubenville High School. Later he +studied in Cleveland and New York. He speaks six languages fluently and +is the author of many published short stories. + +Two other sons are employed in the post office, one is a mail carrier +and the other is a janitor. His only daughter is a domestic servant. + +Mr. Matheus attended school in Springfield, W. Va., for four years. When +he came to Steubenville he attended night school for two winters. Mr. +Dorhman J. Sinclair who founded the Union Savings Bank and Trust Co., +employed Mr. Matheus from the beginning and in recognition of his loyal +service bequeated to Mr. Matheus a pension of fifty dollars per month. + +Mr. Matheus is a member of the office board of the Quinn Memorial A.M.E. +He has been an elder of that church for many years and also trustee and +treasure. He frequently serves on the jury. He is well known and highly +respected in the community. + + + + +Sarah Probst, Reporter +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor + +Folklore: Ex-Slaves +Meigs County, District Three + +MR. WILLIAM NELSON +Aged 88 + + +"Whar's I bawned? 'Way down Belmont Missouri, jes' cross frum C'lumbus +Kentucky on de Mississippi. Oh, I 'lows 'twuz about 1848, caise I wuz +fo'teen when Marse Ben done brung me up to de North home with him in +1862." + +"My Pappy, he wuz 'Kaintuck', John Nelson an' my mammy wuz Junis Nelson. +No suh, I don't know whar dey wuz bawned, first I member 'bout wuz my +pappy buildin' railroad in Belmont. Yes suh, I had five sistahs and +bruthahs. Der names--lets see--Oh yes--der wuz, John, Jim, George, Suzan +and Ida. No, I don't member nothin' 'bout my gran'parents." + +"My mammy had her own cabin for hur and us chilluns. De wuz rails stuck +through de cracks in de logs fo' beds with straw on top fo' to sleep +on." + +"What'd I do, down dar on plantashun? I hoed corn, tatahs, garden +onions, and hepped take cair de hosses, mules an oxen. Say--I could hoe +onions goin' backwards. Yessuh, I cud." + +"De first money I see wuz what I got frum sum soljers fo' sellin' dem a +bucket of turtl' eggs. Dat wuz de day I run away to see sum Yankee +steamboats filled with soljers." + +"Marse Dick, Marse Beckwith's son used to go fishin' with me. Wunce we +ketched a fish so big it tuk three men to tote it home. Yes suh, we +always had plenty to eat. What'd I like best? Corn pone, ham, bacon, +chickens, ducks and possum. My mammy had hur own garden. In de summah +men folks weah overalls, and de womins weah cotton and all of us went +barefooted. In de winter we wore shoes made on de plantashun. I wuzn't +married 'til aftah I come up North to Ohio." + +"Der wuz Marse Beckwith, mighty mean ol' devel; Miss Lucy, his wife, and +de chilluns, Miss Manda, Miss Nan, and Marse Dick, and the other son wuz +killed in der war at Belmont. Deir hous' wuz big and had two stories and +porticoes and den Marse Beckwith owned land with cabins on 'em whar de +slaves lived." + +"No suh, we didn't hab no driver, ol' Marse dun his own drivin'. He was +a mean ol' debel and whipped his slaves of'n and hard. He'd make 'em +strip to the waist then he's lash 'em with his long blacksnake whip. Ol' +Marse he'd whip womin same as men. I member seein' 'im whip my mammy +wunce. Marse Beckwith used the big smoke hous' for de jail. I neber see +no slaves sold but I have seen 'em loaned and traded off." + +"I member one time a slave named Tom and his wife, my mammy an' me tried +to run away, but we's ketched and brung back. Ol' Marse whipped Tom and +my mammy and den sent Tom off on a boat." + +"One day a white man tol' us der wuz a war and sum day we'd be free." + +"I neber heard of no 'ligion, baptizing', nor God, nor Heaven, de Bible +nor education down on de plantashun, I gues' dey didn't hab nun of 'em. +When Marse Ben brung me North to Ohio with him wuz first time I knowed +'bout such things. Marse Ben and Miss Lucy mighty good to me, sent me to +school and tole me 'bout God and Heaven and took me to Church. No, de +white folks down dar neber hepped me to read or write." + +"The slaves wus always tiahed when dey got wurk dim in evenins' so dey +usually went to bed early so dey'd be up fo' clock next mornin'. On +Christmas Day dey always had big dinna but no tree or gifts." + +"How'd I cum North? Well, one day I run 'way from plantashun and hunted +'til I filled a bucket full turtl' eggs den I takes dem ovah on river +what I hears der's sum Yankee soljers and de soljers buyed my eggs and +hepped me on board de boat. Den Marse Ben, he wuz Yankee ofser, tol 'em +he take cair me and he did. Den Marse Ben got sick and cum home and +brung me along and I staid with 'em 'til I wuz 'bout fo'ty, when I gets +married and moved to Wyllis Hill. My wife, was Mary Williams, but she +died long time 'go and so did our little son, since dat time I've lived +alone." + +"Yessuh, I'se read 'bout Booker Washington." + +"I think Abraham Lincoln wuz a mighty fine man, he is de 'Saint of de +colured race'." + +"Good day suh." + + + + +WPA in Ohio +Federal Writers' Project +Bishop & Isleman +Jun 9, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-Slaves +Jefferson County, District #2 + +MRS. CATHERINE SLIM +Ex-slave, 87 years, +939 N. 6th St., Steubenville + + +I wuz born in Rockingham, Virginny; a beautiful place where I cum from. +My age is en de courthouse, Harrisonburg, Virginny. I dunno de date of +my birth, our massa's wouldn't tell us our age. + +My mother's name wuz Sally. She wuz a colored woman and she died when I +wuz a little infant. I don't remember her. She had four chillun by my +father who wuz a white man. His name wuz Jack Rose. He made caskets for +de dead people. + +My mother had six chillun altogether. De name of de four by my father +wuz, Frances de oldest sister, Sarah wuz next, den Mary. I am de baby, +all three are dead cept me. I am very last one livin'. + +I had two half-brudders, dey were slaves too, John and Berwin. Berwin +wuz drowned in W. Va. He wuz bound out to Hamsburger and drowned just +after he got free. Dey did not sold infant slaves. Den dey bound out by +de court. John got free and went to Liberia and died after he got there. +He wuz my oldest brudder. + +I wuz bound out by de court to Marse Barley and Miss Sally. I had to git +up fore daylight and look at de clock wid de candle. I held up de candle +to de clock, but couldn't tell de time. Den dey ask me if de little hand +wuz on three mark or four mark. Dey wouldn't tell me de time but bye and +bye I learned de time myself. + +I asked de mistress to learn me a book and she sez, "Don't yo know we +not allowed to learn you niggers nothin', don't ask me dat no more. I'll +kill you if you do." I wuzn't goin' to ask her dat anymore. + +When I wuz ten years old I wuz doin' women's work. I learned to do a +little bit of eberthin'. I worked on de farm and I worked in de house. I +learned to do a little bit of eberthin'. On de farm I did eberthin' cept +plow. + +I lived in a nice brick house. En de front wuz de valley pike. It wuz +four and three-quarter miles to Harrisonburg and three and three-quarter +miles to Mt. Crawford. It wuz a lobley place and a fine farm. + +I used to sleep in a waggoner's bed. It wuz like a big bed-comfort, +stuffed with wool. I laid it on de floor and sleep on it wid a blanket +ober me, when I get up I roll up de bed and push it under de mistress's +bed. + +I earned money, but nebber got it. Dey wuz so mean I run away. I think +dey wuz so mean dat dey make me run away and den dey wouldn't heb to pay +de money. If I could roll up my sleeve I could show you a mark that cum +from a beatin' I had wid a cow-hide whip. Dey whip me for nothin'. + +After I run away I had around until the surrender cum. Eberybody cum to +life then. It wuz a hot time in de ole place when dey sezs freedom. The +colored ones jumped straight up and down. + +De feed us plenty. We had pork, corn, rabbit, dey hed eberythin' nice. +Dey made us stan' up to eat. Dey no low us sit down to eat. Der wuz bout +twenty or thirty slaves on de farm an some ob dem hed der own gardens. +Anythin' dey gib us to eat I liked. Dey had bees and honey. + +I wore little calico dress in de summer, white, red, and blue. Some hed +flowers and some hed strips. We went barefooted until Christmas. Den dey +gabe us shoes. De shoes were regular ole common shoes; not eben +calfskin. Dey weaved linen and made us our clothes. Dey hab sleeves, +plain body and little skirt. I hed two of dem for winter. + +I hab seen lots of slaves chained together, goin' south, some wuz +singin' and some wuz cryin'. Some hed dey chillun and some didn't. + +Dey took me to church wid dem and dey put me behind de door. Dey tole me +to set der till dey cum out. And when I see dem cumin' out to follow +behind and get into de carrage. I dursent say nothin'. I wuz like a +petty dog. + + + + +INTERVIEW OF EX-SLAVE FROM VIRGINIA +Reported by Rev. Edward Knox +Jun. 9, 1937 + +Topic: Ex-slaves +Guernsey County, District #2 + +JENNIE SMALL +Ex-slave, over 80 years of age + + +I was born in Pocahontas County, Virginia in the drab and awful +surroundings of slavery. The whipping post and cruelty in general made +an indelible impression in my mind. I can see my older brothers in their +tow-shirts that fell knee-length which was sometimes their only garment, +toiling laborously under a cruel lash as the burning sun beamed down +upon their backs. + +Pappy McNeal (we called the master Pappy) was cruel and mean. Nothing +was too hard, too sharp, or too heavy to throw at an unfortunate slave. +I was very much afraid of him; I think as much for my brothers' sakes as +for my own. Sometimes in his fits of anger, I was afraid he might kill +someone. However, one happy spot in my heart was for his son-in-law who +told us: "Do not call Mr. McNeal the master, no one is your master but +God, call Mr. McNeal, mister." I have always had a tender spot in my +heart for him. + +There are all types of farm work to do and also some repair work about +the barns and carriages. It was one of these carriages my brother was +repairing when the Yankees came, but I am getting ahead of my story. + +I was a favorite of my master. I had a much better sleeping quarters +than my brothers. Their cots were made of straw or corn husks. Money was +very rare but we were all well-fed and kept. We wore tow-shirts which +were knee-length, and no shoes. Of course, some of the master's +favorites had some kind of footwear. + +There were many slaves on our plantation. I never saw any of them +auctioned off or put in chains. Our master's way of punishment was the +use of the whipping post. When we received cuts from the whip he put +soft soap and salt into our wounds to prevent scars. He did not teach us +any reading or writing; we had no special way of learning; we picked up +what little we knew. + +When we were ill on our plantation, Dr. Wallace, a relative of Master +McNeal, took care of us. We were always taught to fear the Yankees. One +day I was playing in the yard of our master, with the master's little +boy. Some Yankee Soldiers came up and we hid, of course, because we had +been taught to fear the soldiers. One Yankee soldier discovered me, +however, and took me on his knee and told me that they were our friends +end not our enemies; they were here to help us. After that I loved them +instead of fearing them. When we received our freedom, our master was +very sorry, because we had always done all their work, and hard labor. + + + + +Geo. H. Conn, Writer +Wilbur C. Ammon, Editor +C.R. McLean, District Supervisor +June 11, 1937 + +Folklore +Summit County, District #5 + +ANNA SMITH + + +In a little old rocking chair, sits an old colored "mammy" known to her +friends as "Grandma" Smith, spending the remaining days with her +grandchildren. Small of stature, tipping the scales at about 100 lbs. +but alert to the wishes and cares of her children, this old lady keeps +posted on current events from those around her. With no stoop or bent +back and with a firm step she helps with the housework and preparing of +meals, waiting, when permitted, on others. In odd moments, she like to +work at her favorite task of "hooking" rag rugs. Never having worn +glasses, her eyesight is the envy of the younger generation. She spends +most of the time at home, preferring her rocker and pipe (she has been +smoking for more than eighty year) to a back seat in an automobile. + +When referring to Civil War days, her eyes flash and words flow from her +with a fluency equal to that of any youngster. Much of her speech is +hard to understand as she reverts to the early idiom and pronunciation +of her race. Her head, tongue, arms and hands all move at the same time +as she talks. + +A note of hesitancy about speaking of her past shows at times when she +realizes she is talking to one not of her own race, but after eight +years in the north, where she has been treated courteously by her white +neighbors, that old feeling of inferiority under which she lived during +slave days and later on a plantation in Kentucky has about disappeared. + +Her home is comfortably furnished two story house with a front porch +where, in the comfort of an old rocking chair, she smokes her pipe and +dreams as the days slip away. Her children and their children are +devoted to her. With but a few wants or requests her days a re quiet and +peaceful. + +Kentucky with its past history still retains its hold. She refers to it +as "God's Chosen Land" and would prefer to end her days where about +eighty years of her life was spent. + +On her 101st birthday (1935) she posed for a picture, seated in her +favorite chair with her closest friend, her pipe. + +Abraham Lincoln is as big a man with her today as when he freed her +people. + +With the memories of the Civil War still fresh in her mind and and +secret longing to return to her Old Kentucky Home, Mrs. Anna Smith, born +in May of 1833 and better known to her friends as "Grandma" Smith, is +spending her remaining days with her grandchildren, in a pleasant home +at 518 Bishop Street. + +On a plantation owned by Judge Toll, on the banks of the Ohio River at +Henderson, Ke., Anna (Toll) Smith was born. From her own story, and +information gathered from other sources the year 1835 is as near a +correct date as possible to obtain. + +Anna Smith's parents were William Clarke and Miranda Toll. Her father +was a slave belonging to Judge Toll. It was common practice for slaves +to assume the last name of their owners. + +It was before war was declared between the north and south that she was +married, for she claims her daughter was "going on three" when President +Lincoln freed the slaves. Mrs. Smith remembers her father who died at +the age of 117 years. + +Her oldest brother was 50 when he joined the confederate army. Three +other brothers were sent to the front. One was an ambulance attendant, +one belonged to the cavalry, one an orderly seargeant and the other +joined the infantry. All were killed in action. Anna Smith's husband +later joined the war and was reported killed. + +When she became old enough for service she was taken into the "Big +House" of her master, where she served as kitchen helper, cook and later +as nurse, taking care of her mistress' second child. + +She learned her A.B.C.'s by listening to the tutor teaching the children +of Judge Toll. + +"Grandma" Smith's vision is the wonder of her friends. She has never +worn glasses and can distinguish objects and people at a distance as +readily as at close range. She occupies her time by hooking rag rugs and +doing housework and cooking. She is "on the go" most of the time, but +when need for rest overtakes her, she resorts to her easy chair, a +pipeful of tobacco and a short nap and she is ready to carry on. + +Many instances during those terrible war days are fresh in her mind: men +and boys, in pairs and groups passing the "big house" on their way to +the recruiting station on the public square, later going back in squads +and companies to fight; Yankee soldiers raiding the plantation, taking +corn and hay or whatever could be used by the northern army; and +continual apprehension for the menfolk at the front. + +She remembers the baying of blood hounds at night along the Ohio River, +trying to follow the scent of escaping negroes and the crack of firearms +as white people, employed by the plantation owners attempted to halt the +negroes in their efforts to cross the Ohio River into Ohio or to join +the Federal army. + +Referring to her early life, she recalls no special outstanding events. +Her treatment from her master and mistress was pleasant, always +receiving plenty of food and clothing but never any money. + +In a grove not far from the plantation home, the slaves from the nearby +estates meet on Sunday for worship. Here under the spreading branches +they gathered for religious worship and to exchange news. + +When President Lincoln issued his proclamation freeing the slaves, and +the news reached the plantation, she went to her master to learn if she +was free. On learning it was true she returned to her parents who were +living on another plantation. + +She has been living with her grandchildren for the past nine years, +contented but ready to go when the "Good Lord calls her." + + + + +Sarah Probst, Reporter +Audrey Meighen, Author-Editor +Jun 9, 1937 + +Folklore +Meigs County, District Three +[HW: Middeport] + +NAN STEWART +Age 87 + + +"I'se bawned Charl'stun, West Virginia in February 1850." + +"My mammy's name? Hur name wuz Kath'run Paine an' she wuz bawned down +Jackson County, Virginia. My pappy wuz John James, a coopah an' he wuz +bawned at Rock Creek, West Virginia. He cum'd ovah heah with Lightburn's +Retreat. Dey all crossed de ribah at Buffington Island. Yes, I had two +bruthahs and three sistahs. Deir wuz Jim, Thomas, he refugeed from +Charl'stun to Pum'roy and it tuk him fo' months, den de wuz sistah Adah, +Carrie an' Ella. When I rite young I wurked as hous' maid fo' numbah +quality white folks an' latah on I wuz nurs' fo' de chilluns in sum +homes, heah abouts." + +"Oh, de slaves quartahs, dey wuz undah de sam' ruf with Marse Hunt's big +hous' but in de back. When I'se littl' I sleeped in a trun'l bed. My +mammy wuz mighty 'ticlar an' clean, why she made us chilluns wash ouah +feets ebry night fo' we git into de bed." + +"When Marse Hunt muved up to Charl'stun, my mammy and pappy liv' in log +cabin." + +"My gran' mammy, duz I 'member hur? Honey chile, I shure duz. She wuz my +pappy's mammy. She wuz one hun'erd and fo' yeahs ol' when she die rite +in hur cheer. Dat mawhin' she eat a big hearty brekfast. One day I +'member she sezs to Marse Hunt, 'I hopes you buys hun'erds an' hun'erds +ob slaves an' neber sells a one. Hur name wuz Erslie Kizar Chartarn." + +"Marse an' missus, mighty kind to us slaves. I lurned to sew, piece +quilts, clean de brass an' irons an' dog irons. Most time I set with de +ol' ladies, an' light deir pipes, an' tote 'em watah, in gourds. I us' +tu gether de turkey eggs an' guinea eggs an' sell 'em. I gits ten cents +duzen fo' de eggs. Marse and Missus wuz English an' de count money like +dis--fo' pence, ha' penny. Whut I do with my money? Chile I saved it to +buy myself a nankeen dress." + +"Yes mam we always had plenty to eat. What'd I like bes' to eat, +waffl's, honey and stuffed sausage, but I spise possum and coon. Marse +Hunt had great big meat hous' chuck full all kinds of meats. Say, do you +all know Marse used to keep stuffed sausage in his smoke hous' fo' yeahs +an' it wuz shure powahful good when it wuz cooked. Ouah kitchin wuz big +an' had great big fiah place whur we'd bake ouah bread in de ashes. We +baked ouah corn pone an' biskets in a big spidah. I still have dat +spidah an' uses it." + +"By the way you knows Squire Gellison wuz sum fishahman an' shure to +goodness ketched lots ob fish. Why he'd ketch so many, he'd clean 'em, +cut 'em up, put 'em in half barrels an' pass 'em 'round to de people on +de farms." + +"Most de slaves on Marse Hunt's place had dir own garden patches. +Sumtimes dey'd have to hoe the gardens by moonlight. Dey sell deir +vegetables to Marse Hunt." + +"In de summah de women weah dresses and apruns made ob linen an' men +weah pants and shurts ob linen. Linsey-woolsey and jean wuz woven on de +place fo' wintah clothes. We had better clothes to weah on Sunday and we +weahed shoes on Sunday. The' shoes and hoots wuz made on de plantashun." + +"My mastah wuz Marse Harley Hunt an' his wife wuz Miss Maria Sanders +Hunt. Marse and Miss Hunt didn't hab no chilluns of der own but a nephew +Marse Oscar Martin and niece Miss Mary Hunt frum Missouri lived with +'em. Dey's all kind to us slaves. De Hous' wuz great big white frame +with picket fence all 'round de lot. When we lived Charl'stun Marse Hunt +wuz a magistrate. Miss Hunt's muthah and two aunts lived with 'em." + +"No mam, we didn't hab no ovahseeah. Marse Hunt had no use fo' +ovahseeahs, fact is he 'spise 'em. De oldah men guided de young ones in +deir labors. The poor white neighbahs wurn't 'lowed to live very close +to de plantashun as Marse Hunt wanted de culured slave chilluns to be +raised in propah mannah." + +"I duzn't know how many acres in de plantashun. Deir wuz only 'bout +three or fo' cabins on de place. Wurk started 'bout seben clock 'cept +harvest time when ebrybudy wuz up early. De slaves didn't wurk so hard +nor bery late at night. Slaves wuz punished by sendin' 'em off to bed +early. + +"When I'se livin' at Red House I seed slaves auctioned off. Ol' Marse +Veneable sold ten or lebin slaves, women and chilluns, to niggah tradahs +way down farthah south. I well 'members day Aunt Millie an' Uncl' Edmund +wuz sold--dir son Harrison wuz bought by Marse Hunt. 'Twuz shure sad an' +folks cried when Aunt Millie and Uncl' Edmund wuz tuk away. Harrison +neber see his mammy an' pappy agin. Slaves wuz hired out by de yeah fo' +nine hundred dollahs." + +"Marse Hunt had schools fo' de slaves chilluns. I went to school on +Lincoln Hill, too." + +"Culured preachahs use to cum to plantashun an' dey would read de Bible +to us. I 'member one special passage preachahs read an' I neber +understood it 'til I cross de riber at Buffinton Island. It wuz, 'But +they shall sit every man under his own vine and under his fig tree; and +none shall make them afraid; for the mouth of the Lord of Hosts hath +spoken it." Micah 4:4. Den I knows it is de fulfillment ob dat promis; +'I would soon be undah my own vine an' fig tree' and hab no feah of +bein' sold down de riber to a mean Marse. I recalls der wuz Thorton +Powell, Ben Sales and Charley Releford among de preachahs. De church wuz +quite aways frum de hous'. When der'd be baptizins de sistahs and +brethruns would sing 'Freely, freely will you go with me, down to the +riber'. 'Freely, freely quench your thirst Zion's sons and daughtahs'." + +"How wells I 'member when I wuz converted. I'd thought 'bout 'ligion a +lot but neber wunce wuz I muved to repent. One day I went out to cut sum +wood an' begin thinkin' agin and all wunce I feeled so relieved an' good +an' run home to tell granny an' de uthahs dat I'd cum out at last." + +"No, we didn't wurk on Saturday aftahnoons. Christmas wuz big time at +Marse Hunts hous'. Preparations wuz made fo' it two weeks fo' day cum. +Der wuz corn sings an' big dances, 'ceptin' at 'ligious homes. Der wuz +no weddins' at Marse Hunts, cause dey had no chilluns an' de niece and +nephew went back to own homes to git married." + +"We played sich games as marbles; yarn ball; hop, skip, an' jump; mumble +peg an' pee wee. Wunce I's asked to speak down to white chilluns school +an' dis is what I speak: + + 'The cherries are ripe, + The cherries are ripe, + Oh give the baby one, + The baby is too little to chew, + The robin I see up in the tree, + Eating his fill and shaking his bill, + And down his throat they run.' + +Another one: + + 'Tobacco is an Indian weed, + And from the devil doth proceed + It robs the pocket and burns the clothes + And makes a chimney of the nose.' + +"When de slaves gits sick, deir mammies luked af'er em but de Marse +gived de rem'dies. Yes, dere wuz dif'runt kinds, salts, pills, Castah +orl, herb teas, garlic, 'fedia, sulphah, whiskey, dog wood bark, +sahsaparilla an' apple root. Sometimes charms wuz used. + +"I 'member very well de day de Yankees cum. De slaves all cum a runnin' +an' yellin': "Yankees is cumin', Yankee soljers is comin', hurrah". Bout +two or three clock, we herd bugles blowing' an' guns on Taylah Ridge. +Kids wuz playin' an' all 'cited. Sumone sed: "Kathrun, sumthin' awful +gwine happen", an' sumone else sez; "De' is de Yankees". De Yankee mens +camp on ouah farm an' buyed ouah buttah, milk an' eggs. Marse Hunt, whut +you all call 'bilionist [HW: abolitionist] an' he wuz skeered of suthern +soljers an' went out to de woods an' laid behind a log fo' seben weeks +and seben days, den he 'cided to go back home. He sez he had a dream an' +prayed, "I had bettah agone, but I prayed. No use let des debils take +you, let God take you." We tote food an' papahs to Marse while he wuz a +hidin'." + +"One ob my prized possessions is Abraham Lincoln's pictures an' I'se +gwine to gib it to a culured young man whose done bin so kind to me, +when I'se gone. Dat's Bookah T. Washington's picture ovah thar." + +"I'se married heah in Middeport by Preachah Bill, 1873. My husban' wuz +Charles Stewart, son of Johnny Stewart. Deir wuz hous' full my own +folks, mammy, pappy, sistahs, bruthas, an' sum white folks who cumed in +to hep dress me up fo' de weddin'. We kep de weddin' a secrut an' my +aunt butted hur horns right off tryin' to fin' out when it wuz. My +husban' had to leave right away to go to his job on de boat. We had +great big dinnah, two big cakes an' ice cream fo' desurt. We had fo'teen +chilluns with only two livin'. I has five gran' sons an' two great gran' +daughters." + +"Goodbye--cum back agin." + + + + +Miriam Logan, Lebanon, Ohio +Warren County, Dist. 2 +July 2, 1937 + +Interview with SAMUEL SUTTON, Ex Slave. +Born in Garrett County, Kentucky, in 1854 + +(drawing of Sutton) [TR: no drawing found] + + +"Yes'em, I sho were bo'n into slavery. Mah mothah were a cook--(they was +none betteah)--an she were sold four times to my knownin'. She were part +white, for her fathah were a white man. She live to be seventy-nine +yeahs an nine months old." + +"Ah was bo'n in Garrett County, but were raised by ol' Marster Ballinger +in Knox County, an' ah don remember nothin 'bout Garrett County." When +Lincoln was elected last time, I were about eight yeahs ol'." + +"Ol' Marster own 'bout 400-acres, n' ah don' know how many slaves--maybe +30. He'd get hard up fo money n' sell one or two; then he'd get a lotta +work on hands, an maybe buy one or two cheap,--go 'long lak dat you +see." He were a good man, Ol' Mars Ballinger were--a preacher, an he wuk +hisse'f too. Ol' Mis' she pretty cross sometime, but ol' Mars, he +weren't no mean man, an ah don' 'member he evah whip us. Yes'em dat ol' +hous is still standin' on the Lexington-Lancaster Pike, and las time I +know, Baby Marster he were still livin." + +"Ol' Mars. tuk us boys out to learn to wuk when we was both right little +me and Baby Mars. Ah wuz to he'p him, an do what he tol' me to--an first +thing ah members is a learnin to hoe de clods. Corn an wheat Ol' Mars. +raised, an he sets us boys out fo to learn to wuk. Soon as he lef' us +Baby Mars, he'd want to eat; send me ovah to de grocery fo sardines an' +oysters. Nevah see no body lak oyster lak he do! Ah do n' lak dem. Ol +Mars. scold him--say he not only lazy hese'f, but he make me lazy too." + +"De Wah? Yes'em ah sees soldiers, Union Calvary [HW: Cavalry] goin' by, +dressed fine, wid gold braid on blue, an big boots. But de Rebels now, I +recollect dey had no uniforms fo dey wuz hard up, an dey cum in jes +common clothes. Ol' Mars., he were a Rebel, an he always he'p 'em. +Yes'em a pitched battle start right on our place. Didn't las' long, fo +dey wuz a runnin fight on to Perryville, whaah de one big battle to take +place in de State o' Kentucky, tuk place." + +"Most likely story I remembers to tell you 'bout were somepin made me +mad an I allus remember fo' dat. Ah had de bigges' fines' watermellon an +ah wuz told to set up on de fence wid de watermellon an show 'em, and +sell 'em fo twenty cents. Along cum a line o' soldiers." + +"Heigh there boy!... How much for the mellon?" holler one at me. + +"Twenty cents sir!" Ah say jes lak ah ben tol' to say; and he take dat +mellon right out o' mah arms an' ride off widout payin' me. Ah run after +dem, a tryin' to get mah money, but ah couldn't keep up wid dem soldiers +on hosses; an all de soldiers jes' laf at me." + +"Yes'em dat wuz de fines' big mellon ah evah see. Dat wuz right mean in +him--fine lookin gemman he were, at the head o' de line." + +"Ol' Marster Ballinger, he were a Rebel, an he harbors Rebels. Dey wuz +two men a hangin' around dere name o' Buell and Bragg." + +"Buell were a nawtherner; Bragg, he were a Reb." + +"Buell give Bragg a chance to get away, when he should have found out +what de Rebs were doin' an a tuk him prisoner ah heard tell about dat." + +"Dey wuz a lotta spyin', ridin' around dere fo' one thing and another, +but ah don' know what it were all about. I does know ah feels sorry fo +dem Rebel soldiers ah seen dat wuz ragged an tired, an all woe out, an +Mars. He fell pretty bad about everything sometimes, but ah reckon dey +wuz mean Rebs an southerners at had it all cumin' to em; ah allus heard +tell dey had it comin' to em." + +"Some ways I recollect times wuz lots harder after de War, some ways dey +was better. But now a culled man ain't so much better off 'bout votin' +an such some places yet, ah hears dat." + +"Yes'em, they come an want hosses once in awhile, an they was a rarin' +tarin' time atryin to catch them hosses fo they would run into the woods +befo' you could get ahold of 'em. Morgan's men come fo hosses once, an +ol Mars, get him's hosses, fo he were a Reb. Yes'em, but ah thinks them +hosses got away from the Rebels; seem lak ah heard they did." + +"Hosses? Ah wishes ah had me a team right now, and ah'd make me my own +good livin! No'em, don't want no mule. They is set on havin they own +way, an the contrariest critters! But a mule is a wuk animal, an eats +little. Lotsa wuk in a mule. Mah boy, he say, 'quit wukin, an give us +younguns a chance,' Sho nuf, they ain't the wuk they use to be, an the +younguns needs it. Ah got me a pension, an a fine garden; ain't it fine +now?" + +"Yes'em, lak ah tells you, the wah were ovah, and the culled folks had a +Big Time wid speakin'n everything ovah at Dick Robinsen's camp on de +4th. Nevah see such rejoicin on de Fourth 'o July since,-no'em, ah +ain't." + +"Ah seen two presidents, Grant an Hayes. I voted fo Hayes wen I wuz +twenty-two yeahs old. General Grant, he were runnin against Greeley when +ah heard him speak at Louieville. He tol what all Lincoln had done fo de +culled man. Yes'em, fine lookin man he were, an he wore a fine suit. +Yes'em ah ain't miss an election since ah were twenty-two an vote fo +Hayes. Ah ain't gonto miss none, an ah vote lak the white man read outa +de Emanicaption Proclamation, ah votes fo one ob Abe Lincoln's men ev'y +time--ah sho do." + +"_Run a way slaves?_ No'em nevah know ed of any. Mars. Ballinger +neighbor, old Mars. Tye--he harbor culled folks dat cum ask fo sumpin to +eat in winter--n' he get 'em to stay awhile and do a little wuk fo him. +Now, he did always have one or two 'roun dere dat way,--dat ah +recollects--dat he didn't own. Maybe dey was runaway, maybe dey wuz just +tramps an didn't belong to noboddy. Nevah hear o' anybody claimin' +dem--dey stay awhile an wuk, den move on--den mo' cum, wuk while then +move on. Mars. Tye--he get his wuk done dat way, cheap. + +"No'em, don't believe in anything lak dat much. We use to sprinkle salt +in a thin line 'roun Mars. Ballinger's house, clear 'roun, to ward off +quarellin an arguein' an ol' Miss Ballinger gettin a cross spell,--dat +ah members, an then too;--ah don believe in payin out money on a Monday. +You is liable to be a spendin an a losin' all week if you do. Den ah +don' want see de new moon (nor ol' moon either) through, de branches o' +trees. Ah know' a man dat see de moon tru de tree branches, an he were +lookin' tru de bars 'a jail fo de month were out--an fo sumpin he nevah +done either,--jus enuf bad luck--seein a moon through bush." + +"Ah been married twice, an had three chillens. Mah oles' are Madge +Hannah, an she sixty yeah ol' an still a teachin' at the Indian School +where she been fo twenty-two yeahs now. She were trained at Berea in +High School then Knoxville; then she get mo' learnin in Nashville in +some course." + +"Mah wife died way back yonder in 1884. Then when ah gets married again, +mah wife am 32 when ah am 63. No'am, no mo' chillens. Ah lives heah an +farms, an takes care ob mah sick girl, an mah boy, he live across the +lane thah." + +"No'em, no church, no meetin hous fo us culled people in Kentucky befo' +de wah. Dey wuz prayin folks, and gets to meetin' at each othah's houses +when dey is sumpin a pushin' fo prayer. No'em no school dem days, fo +us." "Ol Mars., he were a preacher, he knowed de Bible, an tells out +verses fo us--dats all ah members. Yes'em Ah am Baptist now, and ah sho +do believe in a havin church." + +"Ah has wuked on steam boats, an done railroad labor, an done a lotta +farmin, an ah likes to farm best. Like to live in Ohio best. Ah can +_vote_. If ah gits into trouble, de law give us a chance fo our +property, same as if we were white. An we can vote lak white, widout no +shootin, no fightin' about it--dats what ah likes. Nevah know white men +to be so mean about anythin as dey is about votin some places--No'em, ah +don't! Ah come heah in 1912. Ah was goin on to see mah daughter Madge +Hannah in Oklahoma, den dis girl come to me paralized, an ah got me work +heah in Lebanon, tendin cows an such at de creamery, an heah ah is evah +since. Yes'em an ah don' wanto go no wheres else." + +"No'em, no huntin' no mo. Useto hunt rabbit until las yeah. They ain't +wuth the price ob a license no mo." No'em, ah ain't evah fished in +Ohio." + +"No'em, nevah wuz no singer, no time. Not on steamboats, nor nowheres. +Don't member any songs, except maybe the holler we useto set up when dey +wuz late wid de dinner when we wuked on de steamboat;--Dey sing-song lak +dis:" + + 'Ol hen, she flew + Ovah de ga-rden gate, + Fo' she wuz dat hungrey + She jes' couldn't wait.' + +--but den dat ain't no real song." + +"Kentucky river is place to fish--big cat fish. Cat fish an greens is +good eatin. Ah seen a cat fish cum outa de Kentucky river 'lon as a man +is tall; an them ol' fins slap mah laig when ah carries him ovah mah +shoulder, an he tail draggin' on mah feet.--Sho nuf!" + +"No'em, ah jes cain't tell you all no cryin sad story 'bout beatin' an a +slave drivin, an ah don' know no ghost stories, ner nuthin'--ah is jes +dumb dat way--ah's sorry 'bout it, but ah Jes--is." + +Samuel Sutton lives in north lane Lebanon, just back of the French +Creamery. He has one acre of land, a little unpainted, poorly furnished +and poorly kept. His daughter is a huge fleshy colored woman wears a +turban on her head. She has a fixed smile; says not a word. Samuel talks +easily; answers questions directly; is quick in his movements. He is +stooped and may 5'7" or 8" if standing straight. He wears an old +fashioned "Walrus" mustache, and has a grey wooley fringe of hair about +his smooth chocolate colored bald head. He is very dark in color, but +his son is darker yet. His hearing is good. His sight very poor. Being +so young when the Civil War was over, he remembers little or nothing +about what the colored people thought or expected from freedom. He just +remembers what a big time there was on that first "Free Fourth of July." + + + + +Ruth Thompson, Interviewing +Graff, Editing + +Ex-Slave Interviews +Hamilton Co., District 12 +Cincinnati + +RICHARD TOLER +515 Poplar St., +Cincinnati, O. + +[Illustration: Richard Toler] + + +"Ah never fit in de wah; no suh, ah couldn't. Mah belly's been broke! +But ah sho' did want to, and ah went up to be examined, but they didn't +receive me on account of mah broken stomach. But ah sho' tried, 'cause +ah wanted to be free. Ah didn't like to be no slave. Dat wasn't good +times." + +Richard Toler, 515 Poplar Street, century old former slave lifted a bony +knee with one gnarled hand and crossed his legs, then smoothed his thick +white beard. His rocking chair creaked, the flies droned, and through +the open, unscreened door came the bawling of a calf from the building +of a hide company across the street. A maltese kitten sauntered into the +front room, which served as parlor and bedroom, and climbed complacently +into his lap. In one corner a wooden bed was piled high with feather +ticks, and bedecked with a crazy quilt and an number of small, +brightly-colored pillows; a bureau opposite was laden to the edges with +a collection of odds and ends--a one-legged alarm clock, a coal oil +lamp, faded aritifical flowers in a gaudy vase, a pile of newspapers. A +trunk against the wall was littered with several large books (one of +which was the family Bible), a stack of dusty lamp shades, a dingy +sweater, and several bushel-basket lids. Several packing cases and +crates, a lard can full of cracked ice, a small, round oil heating +stove, and an assorted lot of chairs completed the furnishings. The one +decorative spot in the room was on the wall over the bed, where hung a +large framed picture of Christ in The Temple. The two rooms beyond +exhibited various broken-down additions to the heterogeneous collection. + +"Ah never had no good times till ah was free", the old man continued. +"Ah was bo'n on Mastah Tolah's (Henry Toler) plantation down in ole +V'ginia, near Lynchburg in Campbell County. Mah pappy was a slave befo' +me, and mah mammy, too. His name was Gawge Washin'ton Tolah, and her'n +was Lucy Tolah. We took ouah name from ouah ownah, and we lived in a +cabin way back of the big house, me and mah pappy and mammy and two +brothahs. + +"They nevah mistreated me, neithah. They's a whipping the slaves all the +time, but ah run away all the time. And ah jus' tell them--if they +whipped me, ah'd kill 'em, and ah nevah did get a whippin'. If ah +thought one was comin' to me, Ah'd hide in the woods; then they'd send +aftah me, and they say, 'Come, on back--we won't whip you'. But they +killed some of the niggahs, whipped 'em to death. Ah guess they killed +three or fo' on Tolah's place while ah was there. + +"Ah nevah went to school. Learned to read and write mah name after ah +was free in night school, but they nevah allowed us to have a book in +ouah hand, and we couldn't have no money neither. If we had money we had +to tu'n it ovah to ouah ownah. Chu'ch was not allowed in ouah pa't +neithah. Ah go to the Meth'dist Chu'ch now, everybody ought to go. I +think RELIGION MUST BE FINE, 'CAUSE GOD ALMIGHTY'S AT THE HEAD OF IT." + +Toler took a small piece of ice from the lard can, popped it between his +toothless gum, smacking enjoyment, swished at the swarming flies with a +soiled rag handkerchief, and continued. + +"Ah nevah could unnerstand about ghos'es. Nevah did see one. Lots of +folks tell about seein' ghos'es, but ah nevah feared 'em. Ah was nevah +raised up undah such supastitious believin's. + +"We was nevah allowed no pa'ties, and when they had goin' ons at the big +house, we had to clear out. Ah had to wo'k hard all the time every day +in the week. Had to min' the cows and calves, and when ah got older ah +had to hoe in the field. Mastah Tolah had about 500 acres, so they tell +me, and he had a lot of cows and ho'ses and oxens, and he was a big +fa'mer. Ah've done about evahthing in mah life, blacksmith and stone +mason, ca'penter, evahthing but brick-layin'. Ah was a blacksmith heah +fo' 36 yea's. Learned it down at Tolah's. + +"Ah stayed on the plantation during the wah, and jes' did what they tol' +me. Ah was 21 then. And ah walked 50 mile to vote for Gen'l Grant at +Vaughn's precinct. Ah voted fo' him in two sessions, he run twice. And +ah was 21 the fust time, cause they come and got me, and say, 'Come on +now. You can vote now, you is 21.' And theah now--mah age is right +theah. 'Bout as close as you can get it. + +"Ah was close to the battle front, and I seen all dem famous men. Seen +Gen'l Lee, and Grant, and Abe Lincoln. Seen John Brown, and seen the +seven men that was hung with him, but we wasn't allowed to talk to any +of 'em, jes' looked on in the crowd. Jes' spoke, and say 'How d' do.' + +[HW: Harper's Ferry is not [TR: rest illegible]] + +"But ah did talk to Lincoln, and ah tol' him ah wanted to be free, and +he was a fine man, 'cause he made us all free. And ah got a ole histry, +it's the Sanford American History, and was published in _17_84[HW:18?]. +But ah don't know where it is now, ah misplaced it. It is printed in the +book, something ah said, not written by hand. And it says, 'Ah am a ole +slave which has suvved fo' 21 yeahs, and ah would be quite pleased if +you could help us to be free. We thank you very much. Ah trust that some +day ah can do you the same privilege that you are doing for me. Ah have +been a slave for many years.' (Note discrepancy). + +"Aftah the wah, ah came to Cincinnati, and ah was married three times. +Mah fust wife was Nannie. Then there was Mollie. They both died, and +than ah was married Cora heah, and ah had six child'en, one girl and fo' +boys. (Note discrepancy) They's two living yet; James is 70 and he is +not married. And Bob's about thutty or fo'ty. Ah done lost al mah +rememb'ance, too ole now. But Mollie died when he was bo'n, and he is +crazy. He is out of Longview (Home for Mentally Infirm) now fo' a while, +and he jes' wanders around, and wo'ks a little. He's not [TR: "not" is +crossed out] ha'mless, he wouldn't hurt nobody. He ain't married +neithah. + +"After the wah, ah bought a fiddle, and ah was a good fiddlah. Used to +be a fiddlah fo' the white girls to dance. Jes' picked it up, it was a +natural gif'. Ah could still play if ah had a fiddle. Ah used to play at +our hoe downs, too. Played all those ole time songs--_Soldier's Joy_, +_Jimmy Long Josey_, _Arkansas Traveler_, and _Black Eye Susie_. Ah +remembah the wo'ds to that one." + +Smiling inwardly with pleasure as he again lived the past, the old Negro +swayed and recited: + + Black Eye Susie, you look so fine, + Black Eye Susie, ah think youah mine. + A wondahful time we're having now, + Oh, Black Eye Susie, ah believe that youah mine. + + And away down we stomp aroun' the bush, + We'd think that we'd get back to wheah we could push + Black Eye Susie, ah think youah fine, + Black Eye Susie, Ah know youah mine. + +Then, he resumed his conversational tone: + +"Befo' the wah we nevah had no good times. They took good care of us, +though. As pa'taculah with slaves as with the stock--that was their +money, you know. And if we claimed a bein' sick, they'd give us a dose +of castah oil and tu'pentine. That was the principal medicine cullud +folks had to take, and sometimes salts. But nevah no whiskey--that was +not allowed. And if we was real sick, they had the Doctah fo' us. + +"We had very bad eatin'. Bread, meat, water. And they fed it to us in a +trough, jes' like the hogs. And ah went in may shirt tail till I was 16, +nevah had no clothes. And the flo' in ouah cabin was dirt, and at night +we'd jes' take a blanket and lay down on the flo'. The dog was supe'ior +to us; they would take him in the house. + +"Some of the people I belonged to was in the Klu Klux Klan. Tolah had +fo' girls and fo' boys. Some of those boys belonged. And I used to see +them turn out. They went aroun' whippin' niggahs. They'd get young girls +and strip 'em sta'k naked, and put 'em across barrels, and whip 'em till +the blood run out of 'em, and then they would put salt in the raw pahts. +And ah seen it, and it was as bloody aroun' em as if they'd stuck hogs. + +"I sho' is glad I ain't no slave no moah. Ah thank God that ah lived to +pas the yeahs until the day of 1937. Ah'm happy and satisfied now, and +ah hopes ah see a million yeahs to come." + + + + +Forest H. Lees +C.R. McLean, Supervisor +June 10, 1937 + +Topic: Folkways +Medina County, District #5 + +JULIA WILLIAMS, ex-slave + + +Julia Williams, born in Winepark, Chesterfield County near Richmond, +Virginia. Her age is estimated close to 100 years. A little more or a +little less, it is not known for sure. + +Her memory is becoming faded. She could remember her mothers name was +Katharine but her father died when she was very small and she remembers +not his name. + +Julia had three sisters, Charlotte, Rose and Emoline Mack. The last +names of the first two, Charlotte and Rose she could not recall. + +As her memory is becoming faded, her thoughts wander from one thing to +another and her speech is not very plain, the following is what I heard +and understood during the interview. + +"All de slaves work with neighbors; or like neighbors now-adays. I no +work in de fiel, I slave in de house, maid to de mistress." + +"After Yankees come, one sister came to Ohio with me." + +"The slaves get a whippin if they run away." + +"After Yankees come, my ole mother come home and all chillun together. I +live with gramma and go home after work each day. Hired out doin maid +work. All dis after Yankees come dat I live with gramma." + +"Someone yell, 'Yankees are comin',' and de mistress tell me, she say +'You mus learn to be good and hones'.' I tole her, 'I am now'." + +"No I nevah get no money foh work." + +"I allways had good meals and was well taken care of. De Mrs. she nevah +let me be sold." + +"Sho we had a cook in de kichen and she was a slave too." + +"Plantashun slaves had gahdens but not de house slaves. I allus had da +bes clothes and bes meals, anyting I want to eat. De Mrs. like me and +she like me and she say effen you want sompin ask foh it, anytime you +want sompin or haff to have, get it. I didn suffer for enythin befoh dim +Yankees come." + +"After de Yankees come even de house people, de white people didn get +shoes. But I hab some, I save. I have some othah shoes I didn dare go in +de house with. Da had wood soles. Oh Lawde how da hurt mah feet. One day +I come down stair too fas and slip an fall. Right den I tile de Mrs. I +couldn wear dem big heavy shoes and besides da makes mah feet so sore." + +"Bof de Mrs. and de Master sickly. An their chillun died. Da live in a +big manshun house. Sho we had an overseer on de plantashun. De poor +white people da live purty good, all dat I seed. It was a big +plantashun. I can't remember how big but I know dat it was sho big. Da +had lots an lots of slaves but I doan no zackly how many. Da scattered +around de plantashun in diffren settlements. De horn blew every mohnin +to wake up de fiel hans. Da gone to fiel long time foh I get up. De fiel +hans work from dawn till dark, but evabody had good eats on holidays. No +work jus eat and have good time." + +"Da whipp dem slaves what run away." + +"One day after de war was over and I come to Ohio, a man stop at mah +house. I seem him and I know him too but I preten like I didn, so I say, +'I doan want ter buy nothin today' and he says 'Doan you know me?' Den I +laugh an say sho I remember the day you wuz goin to whip me, you run +affer me and I run to de Mrs. and she wouldn let you whip me. Now you +bettah be careful or I get you." + +"Sho I saw slaves sole. Da come from all ovah to buy an sell de slaves, +chillun to ole men and women." + +"De slaves walk and travel with carts and mules." + +"De slaves on aukshun block dey went to highes bidder. One colored +woman, all de men want her. She sold to de master who was de highes +bidder, and den I saw her comin down de road singin 'I done got a home +at las!'. She was half crazy. De maste he sole her and den Mrs. buy her +back. They lef her work around de house. I used to make her work and +make her shine things. She say I make her shine too much, but she haff +crazy, an run away." + +"No dey didn help colored folks read and write. Effn dey saw you wif a +book dey knock it down on de floor. Dey wouldn let dem learn." + +"De aukshun allus held at Richmond. Plantashun owners come from all +states to buy slaves and sell them." + +"We had church an had to be dere every single Sunday. We read de Bible. +De preacher did the readin. I can't read or write. We sho had good +prayer meetins. Show nuf it was a Baptis church. I like any spiritual, +all of dem." + +"Dey batize all de young men and women, colored folks. Dey sing mos any +spirtual, none in paticlar. A bell toll foh a funeral. At de baptizen do +de pracher leads dem into de rivah, way in, den each one he stick dem +clear under. I waz gonna be batize and couldn. Eva time sompin happin an +I couldn. My ole mothah tole me I gotta be but I never did be baptize +when Ise young in de south. De othah people befoh me all batized." + +"A lot of de slaves come north. Dey run away cause dey didn want to be +slaves, like I didn like what you do and I get mad, den you get mad an I +run away." + +"De pattyroller was a man who watched foh de slaves what try to run +away. I see dem sneakin in an out dem bushes. When dey fine im de give +im a good whippin." + +"I nevah seed mush trouble between de whites and blacks when I live +dare. Effen dey didn want you to get married, they wouldn let you. Dey +had to ask de mastah and if he say no he mean it." + +"When de Yankees were a comin through dem fiels, dey sho was awful. Dey +take everythin and destroy what ever they could not take. De othah house +slave bury the valables in de groun so de soldiers couldn fine em." + +"One of the house slaves was allus havin her man comin to see her, so +one day affer he lef, when I was makin fun and laughin at her de +mistress she say, 'Why you picken on her?' I say, dat man comin here all +the time hangin round, why doan he marry her." + +"I was nevah lowed to go out an soshiate with de othah slaves much. I +was in de house all time." + +"I went to prayer meetins every Sunday monin and evenin." + +"Sometimes dey could have a good time in de evenin and sometimes day +couldn." + +"Chrismas was a big time for everyone. In the manshun we allus had roast +pig and a big feed. I could have anythin I want. New Years was the big +aukshun day. All day hollerin on de block. Dey come from all ovah to +Richmond to buy and sell de slaves." + +"Butchern day sho was a big time. A big long table with de pigs laid out +ready to be cut up." + +"Lots of big parties an dances in de manshun. I nevah have time foh +play. Mrs, she keep me busy and I work when I jus little girl and all +mah life." + +"Effen any slaves were sick dey come to de house for splies and medsin. +De Mrs. and Master had de doctor if things were very bad." + +"I'll nevah forget de soldiers comin. An old woman tole me de war done +broke up, and I was settin on de porch. De Mrs. she say, 'Julia you ant +stayin eneymore'. She tole me if I keep my money and save it she would +give me some. An she done gave me a gold breast pin too. She was rich +and had lots of money. After the war I wen home to my mother. She was +half sick and she work too hard. On de way I met one slave woman who +didn know she was even free." + +"The Yankees were bad!" + +"I didn get married right away. I worked out foh diffren famlies." + +"After de war dare was good schools in de south. De free slaves had land +effen dey knowed what to do with. I got married in the south to Richar +Williams but I didn have no big weddin. I had an old preacher what +knowed all bout de Bible, who married me. He was a good preacher. I was +de mothah of eight chillun." + +"Lincoln? Well I tell you I doan know. I didn have no thought about him +but I seed him. I work in de house all de time and didn hear much about +people outside." + +"I doan believe in ghosts or hants. As foh dancin I enjoy it when I was +young." + +"I cant read and I thought to myself I thought there was a change comin. +I sense that. I think de Lawd he does everythin right. De Lawd open my +way. I think all people should be religious and know about de Lawd and +his ways." + +Her husband came to Wadsworth with the first group that came from +Doylestown. The men came first then they sent for their families. Her +husband came first them sent for her and the children. They settled in +Wadsworth and built small shacks then later as times got better they +bought properties. + +This year is the 57th Anniversary of the Wadsworth Colored Baptist +Church of which Julia Williams was a charter member. She is very close +to 100 years old if not that now and lives at 160 Kyle Street, +Wadsworth, Ohio. + + + + +Lees +Ohio Guide, Special +Ex-Slave Stories +August 17, 1937 + +JULIA WILLIAMS +(Supplementary Story) + + +"After de War deh had to pick their own livin' an seek homes. + +"Shuah, deh expected de 40 acres of lan' an mules, but deh had to work +foh dem." + +"Shuah, deh got paht of de lan but de shuah had to work foh it. + +"After de war deh had no place to stay an den deh went to so many +diffrunt places. Some of dem today don't have settled places to live. + +"Those owners who were good gave their slaves lan but de othahs jus +turned de slaves loose to wander roun'. Othahs try to fine out where +dere people were and went to them. + +"One day I seed a man who was a doctor down dere, an' I says, 'You +doktah now?' An says 'No, I doan doktah no mow.' I work foh him once +when I was slave, few days durin de war. I say, 'Member that day you +gonna lick me but you didn', you know I big woman an fight back. Now de +war ovah and you can't do dat now'. + +"Slaves didn get money unless deh work for it. Maybe a slave he would +work long time before he get eny pay." + +"Lak you hire me an you say you goin to pay me an then you don't. Lots +of them hired slaves aftah de war and worked dem a long time sayin deh +gwine pay and then when he ask for money, deh drive him away instead of +payin him. + +"Yes, some of de slaves were force to stay on de plantation. I see how +some had to live." "They had homes for awhile but when deh wasen't able +to pay dere rent cause deh weren't paid, deh were thrown out of dere +houses." Some of dem didn't know when deh were free till long time after +de Wah. + +"When I were free, one mornin I seed the mistress and she ask me would I +stay with her a couple years. I say, 'No I gonna find mah people an go +dere.' + +"Anyway, she had a young mister, a son, an he was mean to de slaves. I +nebber lak him. + +"Once I was sent to mah missys' brother for a time but I wouldn' stay +dere: he too rough. + +"No, deh didn't want you to learn out of books. My missy say one day +when I was free, 'Now you can get your lessons.' + +"I allus lowed to do what I wanted, take what I wanted, and eat what I +wanted. Deh had lots of money but what good did it do them? Deh allus +was sick. + +"De poor soldiers had lots to go thru, even after de wah. Deh starvin +and beggin and sick. + +"De slaves had more meetins and gatherins aftah de war. + +"On de plantation where I work dey had a great big horn blow every +mornin to get de slaves up to de field, I allus get up soon after it +blew, most allways, but this mornin dey blew de horn a long time an I +says, 'what foh dey blow dat horn so long?' an den de mastah say, 'You +all is free'. Den he says, ter me, 'What you all goin to do now', and I +says, 'I'm goin to fine my mother.' + +"One day a soldier stop me an says, 'Sister, where do you live?' I tole +him, den he says, 'I'm hungry.' So I went an got him sompin to eat. + +"One time I was to be sold de next day, but de missy tole the man who +cried the block not to sell me, but deh sold my mother and I didn't see +her after dat till just befoh de war ovah. + +"All dat de slaves got after de war was loaned dem and dey had to work +mighty hard to pay for dem. I saw a lot of poor people cut off from +votin and dey off right now, I guess. I doan like it dat de woman vote. +A woman ain't got no right votin, nowhow. + +"Most of de slaves get pensions and are taken care of by their chillun." + +"Ah doan know about de generation today, just suit yourself bout dat." + +Julia Williams resides at 150 Kyle St., Wadsworth, Ohio. + + + + +Miriam Logan +Lebanon, Ohio +July 8th + +Warren County, District 2 + +Story of REVEREND WILLIAMS, Aged 76, +Colored Methodist Minister, +Born Greenbriar County, West Virginia (Born 1859) + + +"I was born on the estate of Miss Frances Cree, my mother's mistress. +She had set my grandmother Delilah free with her sixteen children, so my +mother was free when I was born, but my father was not. + +"My father was butler to General Davis, nephew of Jefferson Davis. +General Davis was wounded in the Civil War and came home to die. My +father, Allen Williams was not free until the Emancipation." + +"Grandmother Delilah belonged to Dr. Cree. Upon his death and the +division of his estate, his maiden daughter came into possession of my +grandmother, you understand. Miss Frances nor her brother Mr. Cam. ever +married. Miss Frances was very religious, a Methodist, and she believed +Grandmother Delilah should be free, and that we colored children should +have schooling." + +"Yes ma'm, we colored people had a church down there in West Virginia, +and grandmother Delilah had a family Bible of her own. She had fourteen +boys and two girls. My mother had sixteen children, two boys, fourteen +girls. Of them--mother's children, you understand,--there were seven +teachers and two ministers; all were educated--thanks to Miss Frances +and to Miss Sands of Gallipolice. Mother lived to be ninety-seven years +old. No, she was not a cook." + +"In the south, you understand--there is the COLORED M.E. CHURCH, and the +AFRICAN M.E. CHURCH, and the SOUTHERN METHODIST, and METHODIST EPISCOPAL +CHURCHES of the white people. They say there will be UNION METHODIST of +both white and colored people, but I don't believe there will be, for +there is a great difference in beliefs, even today. SOUTHERN METHODIST +do believe, do believe in slavery; while the Methodist to which Miss +Frances Cree belonged did not believe in slavery. The Davis family, (one +of the finest) did believe in slavery and they were good southern +Methodist. Mr. Cam., Miss Frances brother was not so opposed to slavery +as was Miss Frances. Miss Frances willed us to the care of her good +Methodist friend Miss Eliza Sands of Ohio." + +"Culture loosens predijuce. I do not believe in social equality at all +myself; it cannot be; but we all must learn to keep to our own road, and +bear Christian good will towards each other." + +"I do not know of any colored people who are any more superstitious than +are white people. They have the advantages of education now equally and +are about on the same level. Of course illiterate whites and the +illiterate colored man are apt to believe in charms. I do not remember +of hearing of any particular superstitious among my church people that I +could tell you about, no ma'm, I do not." + +"In church music I hold that the good old hymns of John and of Charles +Wesley are the best to be had. I don' like shouting 'Spirituals' +show-off and carrying on--never did encourage it! Inward Grace will come +out in your singing more than anything else you do, and the impression +we carry away from your song and, from the singer are what I count." +Read well, sing correctly, but first, last, remember real inward Grace +is what shows forth the most in a song." + +"In New Oreleans where I went to school,--(graduated in 1887 from the +Freedman's Aid College)--there were 14 or 15 colored churches +(methodist) in my youth. New Oreleans is one third colored in +population, you understand. Some places in the south the colored +outnumber the whites 30 to 1. + +"I pastored St. Paul's church in Louieville, a church of close to 3,000 +members. No'ma'm can't say just how old a church it is." + +"To live a consecrated life, you'd better leave off dancing, drinking +smoking and the movies. I've never been to a movie in my life. When I +hear some of the programs colored folks put on the radio sometimes I +feel just like going out to the woodshed and getting my axe and chopping +up the radio, I do! It's natural and graceful to dance, but it is not +natural or good to mill around in a low-minded smoky dance hall." + +"I don't hold it right to put anybody out of church, no ma'm. No matter +what they do, I don't believe in putting anybody out of church." + +"My mother and her children were sent to Miss Eliza Sands at Gallipolis, +Ohio after Miss Frances Cree's death, at Miss Frances' request. Father +did not go, no ma'm. He came later and finished his days with us." + +"We went first to Point Pleasant, then up the river to Gallipolis." + +"After we got there we went to school. A man got me a place in +Cincinnati when I was twelve years old. I blacked boots and ran errands +of the hotel office until I was thirteen; then I went to the FREEDMAN'S +AID COLLEGE in N' Orleans; remained until I graduated. Shoemaking and +carpentering were given to me for trades, but as young fellow I shipped +on a freighter plying between New Orleans and Liverpool, thinking I +would like to be a seaman. I was a mean tempered boy. As cook's helper +one day, I got mad at the boatswain,--threw a pan of hot grease on him." + +The crew wanted me put into irons, but the captain said 'no,--leave him +in Liverpool soon as we land--in about a day or two. When I landed there +they left me to be deported back to the States according to law." + +"Yes, I had an aunt live to be 112 years old. She died at Granville +(Ohio) some thirty years ago. We know her age from a paper on Dr. Cree's +estate where she was listed as a child of twelve, and that had been one +hundred years before." + +"About the music now,--you see I'm used to thinking of religion as the +working out of life in good deeds, not just a singing-show-off kind." + +Some of the Spirituals are fine, but still I think Wesley hymns are +best. I tell my folks that the good Lord isn't a deaf old gentleman that +has to be shouted up to, or amused. I do think we colored people are a +little too apt to want to show off in our singing sometimes." + +"I was very small when we went away from Greenbriar County to Point +Pleasant, and from there to Gallipolis by wagon. I do remember Mr. Cam. +Cree. I was taring around the front lawn where he didn't want me; he was +cross. I remember somebody taking me around the house, and thats +all,-all that I can remember of the old Virginia home where my folks had +belonged for several generations." + +"I've pastored large churches in Louisville and St. Louis. In Ohio I +have been at Glendale, and at Oxford,--other places. This old place was +for sale on the court house steps one day when I happened to be in +Lebanon. Five acres, yes ma'm. There's the corner stone with 1822--age +of the house. My sight is poor, can't read, so I do not try to preach +much anymore, but I help in church in any way that I am needed, keep +busy and happy always! I am able to garden and enjoy life every day. +Certainly my life has been a fortunate one in my mother's belonging to +Miss Frances Cree. I have been a minister some forty years. I graduated +from Wilberforce College." + +This colored minister has a five acre plot of ground and an old brick +house located at the corporation line of the village of Lebanon. He is a +medium sized man. Talks very fast. A writer could turn in about 40 pages +on an interview with him, but he is very much in earnest about his +beliefs. He seems to be rather nervous and has very poor sight. His wife +is yellow in color, and has a decidedly oriental cast of face. She is as +silent, as he is talkative, and from general appearances of her home +she is a very neat housekeeper. Neither of them speak in dialect at all. +Wade Glenn does not speak in dialect, although he is from North +Carolina. + + + + +Ex-Slaves +Stark County, District 5 +Aug 13, 1937 + +WILLIAM WILLIAMS, Ex-Slave + + +Interview with William Williams, 1227 Rex Ave. S.E. Canton, O. + +"I was born a slave in Caswell County, North Carolina, April 14, 1857. +My mother's name was Sarah Hunt and her master's name was Taz Hunt. I +did not know who my father was until after the war. When I was about 11 +years old I went to work on a farm for Thomas Williams and he told me he +was my father. When I was born he was a slave on the plantation next to +Hunt's place and was owned by John Jefferson. Jefferson sold my father +after I was born but I do not know his last master's name. + +My father and mother were never married. They just had the permission of +the two slave owners to live together and I became the property of my +father's master, John Jefferson until I was sold. After the war my +mother joined my father on his little farm and it was then I first +learned he was my father. + +I was sold when I was 3 years old but I don't remember the name of the +man that bought me. + +After the war my father got 100 acres and a team of mules to farm on +shares, the master furnishing the food for the first year and at the end +of the second year he had the privilege of buying the land at $1.00 per +acre. + +When I was a boy I played with other slave children and sometimes with +the master's children and what little education I have I got from them. +No, I can't read or write but I can figure 'like the devil'. + +The plantation of John Jefferson was one of the biggest in the south, it +had 2200 acres and he owned about 2000 slaves. + +I was too young to remember anything about the slave days although I do +remember that I never saw a pair of shoes until I was old enough to +work. My father was a cobbler and I used to have to whittle out shoe +pegs for him and I had to walk sometimes six miles to get pine knots +which we lit at night so my mother could see to work. + +I did not stay with my father and mother long as I was only about 14 +when I started north. I worked for farmers every place I could find work +and sometimes would work a month or maybe two. The last farmer I worked +for I stayed a year and I got my board and room and five dollars a month +which was paid at the end of every six months. I stayed in Pennsylvania +for some years and came to Canton in 1884. I have always worked at farm +work except now and then in a factory. + +I had two brothers, Dan and Tom, and one sister, Dora, but I never heard +from them or saw them after the war. I have been married twice. My first +wife was Sally Dillis Blaire and we were married in 1889. I got a +divorce a few years later and I don't know whatever became of her. My +second wife is still living. Her name was Kattie Belle Reed and I +married her in 1907. No, I never had any children. + +I don't believe I had a bed when I was a slave as I don't remember any. +At home, after the war, my mother and father's bed was made of wood with +ropes stretched across with a straw tick on top. 'Us kids' slept under +this bed on a 'trundle' bed so that at night my mother could just reach +down and look after any one of us if we were sick or anything. + +I was raised on ash cakes, yams and butter milk. These ash cakes were +small balls made of dough and my mother would rake the ashes out of the +fire place and lay these balls on the hot coals and then cover them over +with the ashes again. When they were done we would take 'em out, clean +off the ashes and eat them. We used to cook chicken by first cleaning +it, but leaving the feathers on, then cover it with clay and lay it in a +hole filled with hot coals. When it was done we would just knock off the +clay and the feathers would come off with it. + +When I was a 'kid' I wore nothing but a 'three cornered rag' and my +mother made all my clothes as I grew older. No, the slaves never knew +what underwear was. + +We didn't have any clocks to go by; we just went to work when it was +light enough and quit when it was too dark to see. When any slaves took +sick they called in a nigger mammy who used roots and herbs, that is, +unless they were bad sick, then the overseer would call a regular +doctor. + +When some slave died no one quit work except relatives and they stopped +just long enough to go to the funeral. The coffins were made on the +plantation, these were just rough pine board boxes, and the bodies were +buried in the grave yard on the plantation. + +The overseer on the Jefferson plantation, so my father told me, would +not allow the slaves to pray and I never saw a bible until after I came +north. This overseer was not a religious man and would whip a slave if +he found him praying. + +The slaves were allowed to sing and dance but were not allowed to play +games, but we did play marbles and cards on the quiet. If we wandered +too far from the plantation we were chased and when they caught us they +put us in the stockade. Some of the slaves escaped and as soon as the +overseer found this out they would turn the blood hounds loose. If they +caught any runaway slaves they would whip them and then sell them, they +would never keep a slave who tried to run away." + + +NOTE: Mr. Williams and his wife are supported by the Old Age Pension. +Interviewed by Chas. McCullough. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of +Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: +The Ohio Narratives, by Work Projects Administration + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES *** + +***** This file should be named 13217.txt or 13217.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/2/1/13217/ + +Produced by Andrea Ball and PG Distributed Proofreaders. Produced +from images provided by the Library of Congress, Manuscript Division. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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