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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:42:28 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:42:28 -0700 |
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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/13602-0.txt b/13602-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..95d4a38 --- /dev/null +++ b/13602-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9608 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13602 *** + +[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 IV + +GEORGIA NARRATIVES + +PART 1 + + + + +Prepared by +the Federal Writers' Project of +the Works Progress Administration +for the State of Georgia + + +INFORMANTS + +Adams, Rachel +Allen, Uncle Wash [TR: originally listed as Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)] +Allen, Rev. W.B. [TR: different informant] +Atkinson, Jack +Austin, Hannah +Avery, Celestia [TR: also appended is interview with Emmaline Heard + that is repeated in Part 2 of the Georgia Narratives] +Baker, Georgia +Battle, Alice +Battle, Jasper +Binns, Arrie +Bland, Henry +Body, Rias +Bolton, James +Bostwick, Alec +Boudry, Nancy +Bradley, Alice, and Colquitt, Kizzie [TR: interviews filed together + though not connected] +Briscoe, Della +Brooks, George +Brown, Easter +Brown, Julia (Aunt Sally) +Bunch, Julia +Butler, Marshal +Byrd, Sarah + +Calloway, Mariah +Castle, Susan +Claibourn, Ellen +Clay, Berry +Cody, Pierce +Cofer, Willis +Colbert, Mary +Cole, John +Cole, Julia +Colquitt, Martha + +Davis, Minnie +Davis, Mose +Derricotte, Ike +Dillard, Benny + +Eason, George +Elder, Callie +Everette, Martha + +Favor, Lewis [TR: also referred to as Favors] +Ferguson, Mary +Fryer, Carrie Nancy +Furr, Anderson + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Marshal Butler [TR: not listed in original index] +John Cole + + +[TR: The interview headers presented here contain all information +included in the original, but may have been rearranged for readability. +Also, some ages and addresses have been drawn from blocks of information +on subsequent interview pages. Names in brackets were drawn from text of +interviews.] + +[TR: Some interviews were date-stamped; these dates have been added +to interview headers in brackets. Where part of date could not be +determined -- has been substituted. These dates do not appear to +represent actual interview dates, rather dates completed interviews +were received or perhaps transcription dates.] + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +RACHEL ADAMS, Age 78 +300 Odd Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + + +Rachel Adams' two-room, frame house is perched on the side of a steep +hill where peach trees and bamboo form dense shade. Stalks of corn at +the rear of the dwelling reach almost to the roof ridge and a portion of +the front yard is enclosed for a chicken yard. Stepping gingerly around +the amazing number of nondescript articles scattered about the small +veranda, the visitor rapped several times on the front door, but +received no response. A neighbor said the old woman might be found at +her son's store, but she was finally located at the home of a daughter. + +Rachel came to the front door with a sandwich of hoecake and cheese in +one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Dis here's Rachel Adams," +she declared. "Have a seat on de porch." Rachel is tall, thin, very +black, and wears glasses. Her faded pink outing wrapper was partly +covered by an apron made of a heavy meal sack. Tennis shoes, worn +without hose, and a man's black hat completed her outfit. + +Rachel began her story by saying: "Miss, dats been sich a long time back +dat I has most forgot how things went. Anyhow I was borned in Putman +County 'bout two miles from Eatonton, Georgia. My Ma and Pa was 'Melia +and Iaaac Little and, far as I knows, dey was borned and bred in dat +same county. Pa, he was sold away from Ma when I was still a baby. Ma's +job was to weave all de cloth for de white folks. I have wore many a +dress made out of de homespun what she wove. Dere was 17 of us chillun, +and I can't 'member de names of but two of 'em now--dey was John and +Sarah. John was Ma's onliest son; all de rest of de other 16 of us was +gals. + +"Us lived in mud-daubed log cabins what had old stack chimblies made out +of sticks and mud. Our old home-made beds didn't have no slats or metal +springs neither. Dey used stout cords for springs. De cloth what dey +made the ticks of dem old hay mattresses and pillows out of was so +coarse dat it scratched us little chillun most to death, it seemed lak +to us dem days. I kin still feel dem old hay mattresses under me now. +Evvy time I moved at night it sounded lak de wind blowin' through dem +peach trees and bamboos 'round de front of de house whar I lives now. + +"Grandma Anna was 115 years old when she died. She had done wore herself +out in slavery time. Grandpa, he was sold off somewhar. Both of 'em was +field hands. + +"Potlicker and cornbread was fed to us chillun, out of big old wooden +bowls. Two or three chillun et out of de same bowl. Grown folks had +meat, greens, syrup, cornbread, 'taters and de lak. 'Possums! I should +say so. Dey cotch plenty of 'em and atter dey was kilt ma would scald +'em and rub 'em in hot ashes and dat clean't 'em jus' as pretty and +white. OO-o-o but dey was good. Lord, Yessum! Dey used to go fishin' and +rabbit huntin' too. Us jus' fotched in game galore den, for it was de +style dem days. Dere warn't no market meat in slavery days. Seemed lak +to me in dem days dat ash-roasted 'taters and groundpeas was de best +somepin t'eat what anybody could want. 'Course dey had a gyarden, and it +had somepin of jus' about evvything what us knowed anything 'bout in de +way of gyarden sass growin' in it. All de cookin' was done in dem big +old open fireplaces what was fixed up special for de pots and ovens. +Ashcake was most as good as 'taters cooked in de ashes, but not quite. + +"Summertime, us jus' wore homespun dresses made lak de slips dey use for +underwear now. De coats what us wore over our wool dresses in winter was +knowed as 'sacques' den, 'cause dey was so loose fittin'. Dey was heavy +and had wool in 'em too. Marse Lewis, he had a plenty of sheep, 'cause +dey was bound to have lots of warm winter clothes, and den too, dey +lakked mutton to eat. Oh! dem old brogan shoes was coarse and rough. +When Marse Lewis had a cow kilt dey put de hide in de tannin' vat. When +de hides was ready, Uncle Ben made up de shoes, and sometimes dey let +Uncle Jasper holp him if dere was many to be made all at one time. Us +wore de same sort of clothes on Sunday as evvyday, only dey had to be +clean and fresh when dey was put on Sunday mornin'. + +"Marse Lewis Little and his wife, Miss Sallie, owned us, and Old Miss, +she died long 'fore de surrender. Marse Lewis, he was right good to all +his slaves; but dat overseer, he would beat us down in a minute if us +didn't do to suit him. When dey give slaves tasks to do and dey warn't +done in a certain time, dat old overseer would whup 'em 'bout dat. +Marster never had to take none of his Niggers to court or put 'em in +jails neither; him and de overseer sot 'em right. Long as Miss Sallie +lived de carriage driver driv her and Marse Lewis around lots, but atter +she died dere warn't so much use of de carriage. He jus' driv for Marse +Lewis and piddled 'round de yard den. + +"Some slaves larnt to read and write. If dey went to meetin' dey had to +go wid deir white folks 'cause dey didn't have no sep'rate churches for +de Niggers 'til atter de war. On our Marster's place, slaves didn't go +off to meetin' a t'all. Dey jus' went 'round to one another's houses and +sung songs. Some of 'em read de Bible by heart. Once I heared a man +preach what didn't know how to read one word in de Bible, and he didn't +even have no Bible yit. + +"De fust baptizin' I ever seed was atter I was nigh 'bout grown. If a +slave from our place ever jined up wid a church 'fore de war was over, I +never heared tell nothin' 'bout it. + +"Lordy, Miss! I didn't know nothin' 'bout what a funeral was dem days. +If a Nigger died dis mornin', dey sho' didn't waste no time a-puttin' +him right on down in de ground dat same day. Dem coffins never had no +shape to 'em; dey was jus' squar-aidged pine boxes. Now warn't dat +turrible? + +"Slaves never went nowhar widout dem patterollers beatin' 'em up if dey +didn't have no pass. + +"Dere was hunderds of acres in dat dere plantation. Marse Lewis had a +heap of slaves. De overseer, he had a bugle what he blowed to wake up +de slaves. He blowed it long 'fore day so dat dey could eat breakfast +and be out dere in de fields waitin' for de sun to rise so dey could see +how to wuk, and dey stayed out dar and wukked 'til black dark. When a +rainy spell come and de grass got to growin' fast, dey wukked dem slaves +at night, even when de moon warn't shinin'. On dem dark nights one set +of slaves helt lanterns for de others to see how to chop de weeds out of +de cotton and corn. Wuk was sho' tight dem days. Evvy slave had a task +to do atter dey got back to dem cabins at night. Dey each one hed to +spin deir stint same as de 'omans, evvy night. + +"Young and old washed deir clothes Sadday nights. Dey hardly knowed what +Sunday was. Dey didn't have but one day in de Christmas, and de only +diff'unce dey seed dat day was dat dey give 'em some biscuits on +Christmas day. New Year's Day was rail-splittin' day. Dey was told how +many rails was to be cut, and dem Niggers better split dat many or +somebody was gwine to git beat up. + +"I don't 'member much 'bout what us played, 'cept de way us run 'round +in a ring. Us chillun was allus skeered to play in de thicket nigh de +house 'cause Raw Head and Bloody Bones lived der. Dey used to skeer us +out 'bout red 'taters. Dey was fine 'taters, red on de outside and +pretty and white on de inside, but white folks called 'em +'nigger-killers.' Dat was one of deir tricks to keep us from stealin' +dem 'taters. Dere wern't nothin' wrong wid dem 'taters; dey was jus' as +good and healthy as any other 'taters. Aunt Lucy, she was de cook, and +she told me dat slaves was skeered of dem 'nigger-killer' 'taters and +never bothered 'em much den lak dey does de yam patches dese days. I +used to think I seed ha'nts at night, but it allus turned out to be +somebody dat was tryin' to skeer me. + +"'Bout de most fun slaves had was at dem cornshuckin's. De general would +git high on top of de corn pile and whoop and holler down leadin' dat +cornshuckin' song 'til all de corn was done shucked. Den come de big +eats, de likker, and de dancin'. Cotton pickin's was big fun too, and +when dey got through pickin' de cotton dey et and drunk and danced 'til +dey couldn't dance no more. + +"Miss, white folks jus' had to be good to sick slaves, 'cause slaves was +property. For Old Marster to lose a slave, was losin' money. Dere warn't +so many doctors dem days and home-made medicines was all de go. Oil and +turpentine, camphor, assfiddy (asafetida), cherry bark, sweetgum bark; +all dem things was used to make teas for grown folks to take for deir +ailments. Red oak bark tea was give to chillun for stomach mis'ries. + +"All I can ricollect 'bout de comin' of freedom was Old Marster tellin' +us dat us was free as jack-rabbits and dat from den on Niggers would +have to git deir own somepin t'eat. It warn't long atter dat when dem +yankees, wid pretty blue clothes on come through our place and dey stole +most evvything our Marster had. Dey kilt his chickens, hogs, and cows +and tuk his hosses off and sold 'em. Dat didn't look right, did it? + +"My aunt give us a big weddin' feast when I married Tom Adams, and she +sho' did pile up dat table wid heaps of good eatments. My weddin' dress +was blue, trimmed in white. Us had six chillun, nine grandchillun, and +19 great-grandchillun. One of my grandchillun is done been blind since +he was three weeks old. I sont him off to de blind school and now he kin +git around 'most as good as I kin. He has made his home wid me ever +since his Mammy died. + +"'Cordin' to my way of thinkin', Abraham Lincoln done a good thing when +he sot us free. Jeff Davis, he was all right too, 'cause if him and +Lincoln hadn't got to fightin' us would have been slaves to dis very +day. It's mighty good to do jus' as you please, and bread and water is +heaps better dan dat somepin t'eat us had to slave for. + +"I jined up wid de church 'cause I wanted to go to Heben when I dies, +and if folks lives right dey sho' is gwine to have a good restin' place +in de next world. Yes Mam, I sho b'lieves in 'ligion, dat I does. Now, +Miss, if you ain't got nothin' else to ax me, I'se gwine home and give +dat blind boy his somepin t'eat." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slv. #4] + +WASHINGTON ALLEN, EX-SLAVE +Born: December --, 1854 +Place of birth: "Some where" in South Carolina +Present Residence: 1932-Fifth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: December 18, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + +[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the next informant, Rev. W.B. Allen.] + + +The story of "Uncle Wash", as he is familiarly known, is condensed as +follows: + +He was born on the plantation of a Mr. Washington Allen of South +Carolina, for whom he was named. This Mr. Allen had several sons and +daughters, and of these, one son--George Allen--who, during the 1850's +left his South Carolina home and settled near LaFayette, Alabama. About +1858, Mr. Washington Allen died and the next year, when "Wash" was "a +five-year old shaver", the Allen estate in South Carolina was +divided--all except the Allen Negro slaves. These, at the instance and +insistence of Mr. George Allen, were taken to LaFayette, Alabama, to be +sold. All were put on the block and auctioned off, Mr. George Allen +buying every Negro, so that not a single slave family was divided up. + +"Uncle Wash" does not remember what he "fetched at de sale", but he does +distinctly remember that as he stepped up on the block to be sold, the +auctioneer ran his hand "over my head and said: Genilmens, dis boy is +as fine as split silk". Then when Mr. George Allen had bought all the +Allen slaves, it dawned upon them, and they appreciated, why he had +insisted on their being sold in Alabama, rather than in South Carolina. + +Before he was six years of age, little "Wash" lost his mother and, from +then until freedom, he was personally cared for and looked after by Mrs. +George Allen; and the old man wept every time he mentioned her name. + +During the '60's, "Uncle Wash's" father drove a mail and passenger stage +between Cusseta and LaFayette, Alabama--and, finally died and was buried +at LaFayette by the side of his wife. "Uncle Wash" "drifted over" to +Columbus about fifty years ago and is now living with his two surviving +children. + +He has been married four times, all his wives dying "nachul" deaths. He +has also "buried four chillun". + +He was taught to read and write by the sons and daughters of Mr. George +Allen, and attended church where a one-eyed white preacher--named Mr. +Terrentine--preached to the slaves each Sunday "evenin'" (afternoon). +The salary of this preacher was paid by Mr. George Allen. + +When asked what this preacher usually preached about, "Uncle Wash" +answered: "He was a one-eyed man an' couldn' see good; so, he mout +a'made some mistakes, but he sho tole us plenty 'bout hell fire 'n +brimstone." + +"Uncle Wash" is a literal worshipper of the memory of his "old time +white fokes." + + + + +J.R. Jones + +REV. W.B. ALLEN, EX-SLAVE +425-Second Ave +Columbus, Georgia +(June 29, 1937) +[JUL 28 1937] + +[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the previous informant, Washington +Allen, interviewed on Dec. 18, 1936. The previous interview for Rev. +Allen that is mentioned below is not found in this volume.] + + +In a second interview, the submission of which was voluntarily sought by +himself, this very interesting specimen of a rapidly vanishing type +expressed a desire to amend his previous interview (of May 10, 1937) to +incorporate the following facts: + +"For a number of years before freedom, my father bought his time from +his master and traveled about over Russell County (Alabama) as a +journeyman blacksmith, doing work for various planters and making good +money--as money went in those days--on the side. At the close of the +war, however, though he had a trunk full of Confederate money, all of +his good money was gone. + +Father could neither read nor write, but had a good head for figures and +was very pious. His life had a wonderful influence upon me, though I was +originally worldly--that is, I drank and cussed, but haven't touched a +drop of spirits in forty years and quit cussing before I entered the +ministry in 1879. + +I learned to pray when very young and kept it up even in my unsaved +days. My white master's folks knew me to be a praying boy, and asked +me--in 1865--when the South was about whipped and General Wilson was +headed our way--to pray to God to hold the Yankees back. Of course, I +didn't have any love for any Yankees--and haven't now, for that +matter--but I told my white folks straight-from-the-shoulder that I +_could not_ pray along those lines. I told them flat-footedly that, +while I loved them and would do any reasonable praying for them, I could +not pray against my conscience: that I not only wanted to be free, but +that I wanted to see all the Negroes freed! + +I then told them that God was using the Yankees to scourge the +slave-holders just as He had, centuries before, used heathens and +outcasts to chastise His chosen people--the Children of Israel." + +(Here it is to be noted that, for a slave boy of between approximately +15 and 17 years of age, remarkable familiarity with the Old Testament +was displayed.) + +The Parson then entered into a mild tirade against Yankees, saying: + +"The only time the Northern people ever helped the Nigger was when they +freed him. They are not friends of the Negro and many a time, from my +pulpit, have I warned Niggers about going North. No, sir, the colored +man doesn't belong in the North---has no business up there, and you may +tell the world that the Reverend W.B. Allen makes no bones about saying +that! He also says that, if it wasn't for the influence of the white +race in the South, the Negro race would revert to savagery within a +year! Why, if they knew for dead certain that there was not a policeman +or officer of the law in Columbus tonight, the good Lord only knows what +they'd do tonight"! + +When the good Parson had delivered himself as quoted, he was asked a +few questions, the answers to which--as shall follow--disclose their +nature. + +"The lowest down Whites of slavery days were the average overseers. A +few were gentlemen, one must admit, but the regular run of them were +trash--commoner than the 'poor white trash'--and, if possible, their +children were worse than their daddies. The name, 'overseer', was a +synonym for 'slave driver', 'cruelty', 'brutishness'. No, sir, a Nigger +may be humble and refuse to talk outside of his race--because he's +afraid to, but you can't fool him about a white man! + +And you couldn't fool him when he was a slave! He knows a white man for +what he is, and he knew him the same way in slavery times." + +Concerning the punishment of slaves, the Reverend said: + +"I never heard or knew of a slave being tried in court for any thing. I +never knew of a slave being guilty of any crime more serious than taking +something or violating plantation rules. And the only punishment that I +ever heard or knew of being administered slaves was whipping. + +I have personally known a few slaves that were beaten to death for one +or more of the following offenses: + + Leaving home without a pass, + + Talking back to--'sassing'--a white person, + + Hitting another Negro, + + Fussing, fighting, and rukkussing in the quarters, + + Lying, + + Loitering on their work, + + Taking things--the Whites called it stealing. + + Plantation rules forbade a slave to: + + Own a firearm, + + Leave home without a pass, + + Sell or buy anything without his master's consent, + + Marry without his owner's consent, + + Have a light in his cabin after a certain hour at night, + + Attend any secret meeting, + + Harbor or [HW: in] any manner assist a runaway slave, + + Abuse a farm animal, + + Mistreat a member of his family, and do + + A great many other things." + +When asked if he had ever heard slaves plot an insurrection, the Parson +answered in the negative. + +When asked if he had personal knowledge of an instance of a slave +offering resistance to corporal punishment, the Reverend shook his head, +but said: + +"Sometimes a stripped Nigger would say some hard things to the white man +with the strap in his hand, though he knew that he (the Negro) would pay +for it dearly, for when a slave showed spirit that way the master or +overseer laid the lash on all the harder." + +When asked how the women took their whippings, he said: + +"They usually screamed and prayed, though a few never made a sound." + +The Parson has had two wives and five children. Both wives and three of +his children are dead. He is also now superannuated, but occasionally +does a "little preaching", having only recently been down to Montezuma, +Georgia, on a special call to deliver a message to the Methodist flock +there. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slave #2] +Henrietta Carlisle + +JACK ATKINSON--EX-SLAVE +Rt. D +Griffin, Georgia +Interviewed August 21, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + + +"Onct a man, twice a child," quoted Jack Atkinson, grey haired darkey, +when being interviewed, "and I done started in my second childhood. I +useter be active as a cat, but I ain't, no mo." + +Jack acquired his surname from his white master, a Mr. Atkinson, who +owned this Negro family prior to the War Between the States. He was a +little boy during the war but remembers "refugeeing" to Griffin from +Butts County, Georgia, with the Atkinsons when Sherman passed by their +home on his march to the sea. + +Jack's father, Tom, the body-servant of Mr. Atkinson, "tuck care of him" +[HW: during] the four years they were away at war. "Many's the time I +done heard my daddy tell 'bout biting his hands he wuz so hongry, and +him and Marster drinking water outer the ruts of the road, they wuz so +thirsty, during the war." + +"Boss Man (Mr. Atkinson), wuz as fine a man as ever broke bread", +according to Jack. + +When asked how he got married he stated that he "broke off a love vine +and throwed it over the fence and if it growed" he would get married. +The vine "just growed and growed" and it wasn't long before he and Lucy +married. + +"A hootin' owl is a sho sign of rain, and a screech owl means a death, +for a fact." + +"A tree frog's holler is a true sign of rain." + +Jack maintains that he has received "a second blessing from the Lord" +and "no conjurer can bother him." + + + + +Whitley +1-25-37 +[HW: Dis #5 +Unedited] +Minnie B. Ross + +EX TOWN SLAVE HANNAH AUSTIN +[HW: about 75-85] +[APR 8 1937] + + +When the writer was presented to Mrs. Hannah Austin she was immediately +impressed with her alert youthful appearance. Mrs. Austin is well +preserved for her age and speaks clearly and with much intelligence. The +interview was a brief but interesting one. This was due partly to the +fact that Mrs. Austin was a small child when The Civil War ended and too +because her family was classed as "town slaves" so classed because of +their superior intelligence. + +Mrs. Austin was a child of ten or twelve years when the war ended. She +doesn't know her exact age but estimated it to be between seventy and +seventy five years. She was born the oldest child of Liza and George +Hall. Their master Mr. Frank Hall was very kind to them and considerate +in his treatment of them. + +Briefly Mrs. Austin gave the following account of slavery as she knew +it. "My family lived in a two room well built house which had many +windows and a nice large porch. Our master, Mr. Hall was a merchant and +operated a clothing store. Because Mr. Hall lived in town he did not +need but a few slaves. My family which included my mother, father, +sister, and myself were his only servants. Originally Mr. Hall did not +own any slaves, however after marrying Mrs. Hall we were given to her by +her father as a part of her inheritance. + +My mother nursed Mrs. Hall from a baby, consequently the Hall family was +very fond of her and often made the statement that they would not part +with her for anything in the world, besides working as the cook for the +Hall family my mother was also a fine seamstress and made clothing for +the master's family and for our family. We were allowed an ample amount +of good clothing which Mr. Hall selected from the stock in his store. My +father worked as a porter in the store and did other jobs around the +house. I did not have to work and spent most of my time playing with the +Hall children. We were considered the better class of slaves and did not +know the meaning of a hard time. + +Other slave owners whipped their slaves severely and often, but I have +never known our master to whip any one of my family. If any one in the +family became ill the family doctor was called in as often as he was +needed. + +We did not have churches of our own but were allowed to attend the white +churches in the afternoon. The White families attended in the forenoon. +We seldom heard a true religious sermon; but were constantly preached +the doctrine of obedience to our masters and mistresses. We were +required to attend church every Sunday. + +Marriages were conducted in much the same manner as they are today. +After the usual courtship a minister was called in by the master and the +marriage ceremony would then take place. In my opinion people of today +are more lax in their attitude toward marriage than they were in those +days. Following the marriage of a slave couple a celebration would take +place often the master and his family would take part in the +celebration. + +I remember hearing my mother and father discuss the war; but was too +young to know just the effect the war would have on the slave. One day I +remember Mr. Hall coming to my mother telling her we were free. His +exact words were quote--"Liza you don't belong to me any longer you +belong to yourself. If you are hired now I will have to pay you. I do +not want you to leave as you have a home here as long as you live." I +watched my mother to see the effect his words would have on her and I +saw her eyes fill with tears. Mr. Hall's eyes filled with tears also. + +Soon after this incident a Yankee Army appeared in our village one day. +They practically destroyed Mr. Hall's store by throwing all clothes and +other merchandise into the streets. Seeing my sister and I they turned +to us saying, "Little Negroes you are free there are no more masters and +mistresses, here help yourselves to these clothes take them home with +you." Not knowing any better we carried stockings, socks, dresses, +underwear and many other pieces home. After this they opened the smoke +house door and told us to go in and take all of the meat we wanted. + +On another occasion the mistress called me asking that I come in the +yard to play with the children". Here Mrs. Austin began to laugh and +remarked "I did not go but politely told her I was free and didn't +belong to any one but my mama and papa. As I spoke these words my +mistress began to cry. + +My mother and father continued to live with the Halls even after freedom +and until their deaths. Although not impoverished most of the Hall's +fortune was wiped out with the war". + +Mrs. Austin married at the age of 16 years; and was the mother of four +children, all of whom are dead. She was very ambitious and was +determined to get an education if such was possible. After the war +Northern white people came south and set up schools for the education of +Negroes. She remembers the organization of the old Storrs School from +which one of the present Negroes Colleges originated. + +Mrs. Austin proudly spoke of her old blue back speller, which she still +possesses; and of the days when she attended Storrs School. + +As the writer made ready to depart Mrs. Austin smilingly informed her +that she had told her all that she knew about slavery; and every word +spoken was the truth. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex Slave #1 +Ross] + +"A FEW FACTS OF SLAVERY" +As Told by CELESTIA AVERY--EX-SLAVE +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Mrs. Celestia Avery is a small mulatto woman about 5 ft. in height. She +has a remarkably clear memory in view of the fact that she is about 75 +years of age. Before the interview began she reminded the writer that +the facts to be related were either told to her by her grandmother, +Sylvia Heard, or were facts which she remembered herself. + +Mrs. Avery was born 75 years ago in Troupe County, LaGrange, Ga. the +eighth oldest child of Lenora and Silas Heard. There were 10 other +children beside herself. She and her family were owned by Mr. & Mrs. +Peter Heard. In those days the slaves carried the surname of their +master; this accounted for all slaves having the same name whether they +were kin or not. + +The owner Mr. Heard had a plantation of about 500 acres and was +considered wealthy by all who knew him. Mrs. Avery was unable to give +the exact number of slaves on the plantation, but knew he owned a large +number. Cotton, corn, peas, potatoes, (etc.) were the main crops raised. + +The homes provided for the slaves were two room log cabins which had one +door and one window. These homes were not built in a group together but +were more or less scattered over the plantation. Slave homes were very +simple and only contained a home made table, chair and bed which were +made of the same type of wood and could easily be cleaned by scouring +with sand every Saturday. The beds were bottomed with rope which was run +backward and forward from one rail to the other. On this framework was +placed a mattress of wheat straw. Each spring the mattresses were +emptied and refilled with fresh wheat straw. + +Slaves were required to prepare their own meals three times a day. This +was done in a big open fire place which was filled with hot coals. The +master did not give them much of a variety of food, but allowed each +family to raise their own vegetables. Each family was given a hand out +of bacon and meal on Saturdays and through the week corn ash cakes and +meat; which had been broiled on the hot coals was the usual diet found +in each home. The diet did not vary even at Christmas only a little +fruit was added. + +Each family was provided with a loom and in Mrs. Avery's family, her +grandmother, Sylvia Heard, did most of the carding and spinning of the +thread into cloth. The most common cloth for women clothes was homespun, +and calico. This same cloth was dyed and used to make men shirts and +pants. Dye was prepared by taking a berry known as the shumake berry and +boiling them with walnut peelings. Spring and fall were the seasons for +masters to give shoes and clothing to their slaves. Both men and women +wore brogan shoes, the only difference being the piece in the side of +the womens. + +One woman was required to do the work around the house there was also +one slave man required to work around the house doing odd jobs. Other +than these two every one else was required to do the heavy work in the +fields. Work began at "sun up" and lasted until "sun down". In the +middle of the day the big bell was rung to summon the workers from the +field, for their mid-day lunch. After work hours slaves were then free +to do work around their own cabins, such as sewing, cooking (etc.) + +"Once a week Mr. Heard allowed his slaves to have a frolic and folks +would get broke down from so much dancing" Mrs. Avery remarked. The +music was furnished with fiddles. When asked how the slaves came to own +fiddles she replied, "They bought them with money they earned selling +chickens." At night slaves would steal off from the Heard plantation, go +to LaGrange, Ga. and sell chickens which they had raised. Of course the +masters always required half of every thing raised by each slave and it +was not permissible for any slave to sell anything. Another form of +entertainment was the quilting party. Every one would go together to +different person's home on each separate night of the week and finish +that person's quilts. Each night this was repeated until every one had a +sufficient amount of covering for the winter. Any slave from another +plantation, desiring to attend these frolics, could do so after securing +a pass from their master. + +Mrs. Avery related the occasion when her Uncle William was caught off +the Heard plantation without a pass, and was whipped almost to death by +the "Pader Rollers." He stole off to the depths of the woods here he +built a cave large enough to live in. A few nights later he came back to +the plantation unobserved and carried his wife and two children back to +this cave where they lived until after freedom. When found years later +his wife had given birth to two children. No one was ever able to find +his hiding place and if he saw any one in the woods he would run like a +lion. + +Mr. Heard was a very mean master and was not liked by any one of his +slaves. Secretly each one hated him. He whipped unmercifully and in most +cases unnecessarily. However, he sometimes found it hard to subdue some +slaves who happened to have very high tempers. In the event this was the +case he would set a pack of hounds on him. Mrs. Avery related to the +writer the story told to her of Mr. Heard's cruelty by her grandmother. +The facts were as follows: "Every morning my grandmother would pray, and +old man Heard despised to hear any one pray saying they were only doing +so that they might become free niggers. Just as sure as the sun would +rise, she would get a whipping; but this did not stop her prayers every +morning before day. This particular time grandmother Sylvia was in +"family way" and that morning she began to pray as usual. The master +heard her and became so angry he came to her cabin seized and pulled her +clothes from her body and tied her to a young sapling. He whipped her so +brutally that her body was raw all over. When darkness fell her husband +cut her down from the tree, during the day he was afraid to go near her. +Rather than go back to the cabin she crawled on her knees to the woods +and her husband brought grease for her to grease her raw body. For two +weeks the master hunted but could not find her; however, when he finally +did, she had given birth to twins. The only thing that saved her was the +fact that she was a mid-wife and always carried a small pin knife which +she used to cut the navel cord of the babies. After doing this she tore +her petticoat into two pieces and wrapped each baby. Grandmother Sylvia +lived to get 115 years old. + +Not only was Mr. Henderson cruel but it seemed that every one he hired +in the capacity of overseer was just as cruel. For instance, Mrs. +Henderson's grandmother Sylvia, was told to take her clothes off when +she reached the end of a row. She was to be whipped because she had not +completed the required amount of hoeing for the day. Grandmother +continued hoeing until she came to a fence; as the overseer reached out +to grab her she snatched a fence railing and broke it across his arms. +On another occasion grandmother Sylvia ran all the way to town to tell +the master that an overseer was beating her husband to death. The master +immediately jumped on his horse and started for home; and reaching the +plantation he ordered the overseer to stop whipping the old man. Mrs. +Avery received one whipping, with a hair brush, for disobedience; this +was given to her by the mistress. + +Slaves were given separate churches, but the minister, who conducted the +services, was white. Very seldom did the text vary from the usual one of +obedience to the master and mistress, and the necessity for good +behavior. Every one was required to attend church, however, the only +self expression they could indulge in without conflict with the master +was that of singing. Any one heard praying was given a good whipping; +for most masters thought their prayers no good since freedom was the +uppermost thought in every one's head. + +On the Heard plantation as on a number of others, marriages were made by +the masters of the parties concerned. Marriage licenses were unheard of. +If both masters mutually consented, the marriage ceremony was considered +over with. After that the husband was given a pass to visit his wife +once a week. In the event children were born the naming of them was left +entirely to the master. Parents were not allowed to name them. + +Health of slaves was very important to every slave owner for loss of +life meant loss of money to them. Consequently they would call in their +family doctor, if a slave became seriously ill. In minor cases of +illness home remedies were used. "In fact," Mrs. Avery smilingly +remarked, "We used every thing for medicine that grew in the ground." +One particular home remedy was known as "Cow foot oil" which was made by +boiling cow's feet in water. Other medicines used were hoarhound tea, +catnip tea, and castor oil. Very often medicines and doctors failed to +save life; and whenever a slave died he was buried the same day. Mrs. +Avery remarked, "If he died before dinner the funeral and burial usually +took place immediately after dinner." + +Although a very young child, Mrs. Avery remembers the frantic attempt +slave owners made to hide their money when the war broke out. The +following is a story related concerning the Heard family. "Mr. Heard, +our master, went to the swamp, dug a hole, and hid his money, then he +and his wife left for town on their horses. My oldest brother, Percy, +saw their hiding place; and when the Yanks came looking for the money, +he carried them straight to the swamps and showed than where the money +was hidden." Although the Yeard [TR: typo "Heard"] farm was in the +country the highway was very near and Mrs. Avery told of the long army +of soldiers marching to La Grange singing the following song: "Rally +around the flag boys, rally around the flag, joy, joy, for freedom." +When the war ended Mr. Heard visited every slave home and broke the news +to each family that they were free people and if they so desired could +remain on his plantation. Mrs. Avery's family moved away, in fact most +slave families did, for old man Heard had been such a cruel master +everyone was anxious to get away from him. However, one year later he +sold his plantation to Mr George Traylor and some of the families moved +back, Mrs. Avery's family included. + +Mrs. Avery married at the age of 16; and was the mother of 14 children, +three of whom are still living. Although she has had quite a bit of +illness during her life, at present she is quite well and active in +spite of her old age. She assured the writer that the story of slavery, +which she had given her, was a true one and sincerely hoped it would do +some good in this world. + + + + +FOLKLORE (Negro) +Minnie B. Ross + +[MRS. CELESTIA AVERY] + + +In a small house at 173 Phoenix Alley, N.E. lives a little old woman +about 5 ft. 2 in. in height, who is an ex-slave. She greeted the writer +with a bright smile and bade her enter and have a seat by the small fire +in the poorly lighted room. The writer vividly recalled the interview +she gave on slavery previously and wondered if any facts concerning +superstitions, conjure, signs, etc. could be obtained from her. After a +short conversation pertaining to everyday occurrences, the subject of +superstition was broached to Mrs. Avery. The idea amused her and she +gave the writer the following facts: As far as possible the stories are +given in her exact words. The interview required two days, November 30 +and December 2, 1936. + +"When you see a dog lay on his stomach and slide it is a true sign of +death. This is sho true cause it happened to me. Years ago when I lived +on Pine Street I was sitting on my steps playing with my nine-months old +baby. A friend uv mine came by and sat down; and as we set there a dog +that followed her began to slide on his stomach. It scared me; and I +said to her, did you see that dog? Yes, I sho did. That night my baby +died and it wuzn't sick at all that day. That's the truth and a sho sign +of death. Anudder sign of death is ter dream of a new-born baby. One +night not so long ago I dreamt about a new-born baby and you know I went +ter the door and called Miss Mary next door and told her I dreamed about +a new-born baby, and she said, Oh! that's a sho sign of death. The same +week that gal's baby over there died. It didn't surprise me when I heard +it cause I knowed somebody round here wuz go die." She continued: + +"Listen, child! If ebber you clean your bed, don't you never sweep off +your springs with a broom. Always wipe 'em with a rag, or use a brush. +Jest as sho as you do you see or experience death around you. I took my +bed down and swept off my springs, and I jest happened to tell old Mrs. +Smith; and she jumped up and said, 'Child, you ought not done that +cause it's a sign of death.' Sho nuff the same night I lost another +child that wuz eight years old. The child had heart trouble, I think." + +Mrs. Avery believes in luck to a certain extent. The following are +examples of how you may obtain luck: + +"I believe you can change your luck by throwing a teaspoonful of sulphur +in the fire at zackly 12 o'clock in the day. I know last week I was +sitting here without a bit of fire, but I wuzn't thinking bout doing +that till a 'oman came by and told me ter scrape up a stick fire and put +a spoonful of sulphur on it; and sho nuff in a hour's time a coal man +came by and gave me a tub uv coal. Long time ago I used ter work fer +some white women and every day at 12 o'clock I wuz told ter put a +teaspoonful of sulphur in the fire." + +"Another thing, I sho ain't going ter let a 'oman come in my house on +Monday morning unless a man done come in there fust. No, surree, if it +seem lak one ain't coming soon, I'll call one of the boy chilluns, jest +so it is a male. The reason fer this is cause women is bad luck." + +The following are a few of the luck charms as described by Mrs. Avery: + +"Black cat bone is taken from a cat. First, the cat is killed and +boiled, after which the meat is scraped from the bones. The bones are +then taken to the creek and thrown in. The bone that goes up stream is +the lucky bone and is the one that should be kept." "There is a boy in +this neighborhood that sells liquor and I know they done locked him up +ten or twelve times but he always git out. They say he carries a black +cat bone," related Mrs. Avery. + +"The Devil's shoe string looks jest like a fern with a lot of roots. My +mother used to grow them in the corner of our garden. They are lucky. + +"Majres (?) are always carried tied in the corner of a handkerchief. I +don't know how they make 'em. + +"I bought a lucky stick from a man onct. It looked jest lak a candle, +only it wuz small; but he did have some sticks as large as candles and +he called them lucky sticks, too, but you had to burn them all night in +your room. He also had some that looked jest lak buttons, small and +round." + +The following are two stories of conjure told by Mrs. Avery: + +"I knowed a man onct long ago and he stayed sick all der time. He had +the headache from morning till night. One day he went to a old man that +wuz called a conjurer; this old man told him that somebody had stole the +sweat-band out of his cap and less he got it back, something terrible +would happen. They say this man had been going with a 'oman and she had +stole his sweat-band. Well, he never did get it, so he died. + +"I had a cousin named Alec Heard, and he had a wife named Anna Heard. +Anna stayed sick all der time almost; fer two years she complained. One +day a old conjurer came to der house and told Alec that Anna wuz +poisoned, but if he would give him $5.00 he would come back Sunday +morning and find the conjure. Alec wuz wise, so he bored a hole in the +kitchen floor so that he could jest peep through there to der back +steps. Sho nuff Sunday morning the nigger come back and as Alec watched +him he dug down in the gound a piece, then he took a ground puppy, threw +it in the hole and covered it up. All right, he started digging again +and all at onct he jumped up and cried: 'Here 'tis! I got it.' 'Got +what?' Alec said, running to the door with a piece of board. 'I got the +ground puppy dat wuz buried fer her.' Alec wuz so mad he jumped on that +man and beat him most to death. They say he did that all the time and +kept a lot of ground puppies fer that purpose." Continuing, she +explained that a ground puppy was a worm with two small horns. They are +dug up out of the ground, and there is a belief that you will die if one +barks at you. + +Mrs. Avery related two ways in which you can keep from being conjured by +anyone. + +"One thing I do every morning is ter sprinkle chamber-lye [HW: (urine)] +with salt and then throw it all around my door. They sho can't fix you +if you do this. Anudder thing, if you wear a silver dime around your +leg they can't fix you. The 'oman live next door says she done wore two +silver dimes around her leg for 18 years." + +Next is a story of the Jack O'Lantern. + +"Onct when I wuz a little girl a lot of us chillun used to slip off and +take walnuts from a old man. We picked a rainy night so nobody would see +us, but do you know it looked like a thousand Jack ma' Lanterns got in +behind us. They wuz all around us. I never will ferget my brother +telling me ter get out in the path and turn my pocket wrong side out. I +told him I didn't have no pocket but the one in my apron; he said, +'well, turn that one wrong side out.' Sho nuff we did and they scattered +then." + +Closing the interview, Mrs. Avery remarked: "That's bout all I know; but +come back some time and maybe I'll think of something else." + + + + +MRS. EMMALINE HEARD + +[TR: This interview, which was attached to the interview with Mrs. +Celestia Avery, is also included in the second volume of the Georgia +Narratives.] + + +On December 3 and 4, 1936, Mrs. Emmaline Heard was interviewed at her +home, 239 Cain Street. The writer had visited Mrs. Heard previously, and +it was at her own request that another visit was made. This visit was +supposed to be one to obtain information and stories on the practice of +conjure. On two previous occasions Mrs. Heard's stories had proved very +interesting, and I knew as I sat there waiting for her to begin that she +had something very good to tell me. She began: + +"Chile, this story wuz told ter me by my father and I know he sho +wouldn't lie. Every word of it is the trufe; fact, everything I ebber +told you wuz the trufe. Now, my pa had a brother, old Uncle Martin, and +his wife wuz name Julianne. Aunt Julianne used ter have spells and fight +and kick all the time. They had doctor after doctor but none did her any +good. Somebody told Uncle Martin to go ter a old conjurer and let the +doctors go cause they wan't doing nothing fer her anyway. Sho nuff he +got one ter come see her and give her some medicine. This old man said +she had bugs in her head, and after giving her the medicine he started +rubbing her head. While he rubbed her head he said: 'Dar's a bug in her +head; it looks jest like a big black roach. Now, he's coming out of her +head through her ear; whatever you do, don't let him get away cause I +want him. Whatever you do, catch him; he's going ter run, but when he +hits the pillow, grab 'em. I'm go take him and turn it back on the one +who is trying ter send you ter the grave.' Sho nuff that bug drap out +her ear and flew; she hollered, and old Uncle Martin ran in the room, +snatched the bed clothes off but they never did find him. Aunt Julianne +never did get better and soon she died. The conjurer said if they had a +caught the bug she would a lived." + +The next story is a true story. The facts as told by Mrs. Heard were +also witnessed by her; as it deals with the conjuring of one of her +sons. It is related in her exact words as nearly as possible. + +"I got a son named Albert Heard. He is living and well; but chile, there +wuz a time when he wuz almost ter his grave. I wuz living in town then, +and Albert and his wife wuz living in the country with their two +chillun. Well, Albert got down sick and he would go ter doctors, and go +ter doctors, but they didn't do him any good. I wuz worried ter death +cause I had ter run backards and for'ards and it wuz a strain on me. He +wuz suffering with a knot on his right side and he couldn't even fasten +his shoes cause it pained him so, and it wuz so bad he couldn't even +button up his pants. A 'oman teached school out there by the name of +Mrs. Yancy; she's dead now but she lived right here on Randolph Street +years ago. Well, one day when I wuz leaving Albert's house I met her on +the way from her school. 'Good evening, Mrs. Heard,' she says. 'How is +Mr. Albert?' I don't hardly know, I says, cause he don't get no better. +She looked at me kinda funny and said, don't you believe he's hurt?' Yes +mam, I said, I sho do. 'Well,' says she, 'I been wanting to say +something to you concerning this but I didn't know how you would take +it. If I tell you somewhere ter go will you go, and tell them I sent +you?' Yes mam, I will do anything if Albert can get better. 'All right +then', she says. 'Catch the Federal Prison car and get off at Butler +St.' In them days that car came down Forrest Ave. 'When you get to +Butler St.', she says, 'walk up to Clifton St. and go to such and such a +number. Knock on the door and a 'oman by the name of Mrs. Hirshpath will +come ter the door. Fore she let you in she go ask who sent you there; +when you tell 'er, she'll let you in. Now lemme tell you she keeps two +quarts of whisky all the time and you have ter drink a little with her; +sides that she cusses nearly every word she speaks; but don't let that +scare you; she will sho get your son up if it kin be done.' Sho nuff +that old 'oman did jest lak Mrs. Yancy said she would do. She had a +harsh voice and she spoke right snappy. When she let me in she said, sit +down. You lak whisky?' I said, well, I take a little dram sometimes. +'Well, here take some of this', she said. I poured a little bit and +drank it kinda lak I wuz afraid. She cursed and said 'I ain't go conjure +you. Drink it.' She got the cards and told me to cut 'em, so I did. +Looking at the cards, she said: 'You lak ter wait too long; they got him +marching to the cemetery. The poor thing! I'll fix those devils. (A +profane word was used instead of devils). He got a knot on his side, +ain't he?' Yes, Mam, I said. That 'oman told me everything that was +wrong with Albert and zackly how he acted. All at once she said; 'If +them d----d things had hatched in him it would a been too late. If you +do zackly lak I tell you I'll get him up from there.' I sho will, I told +her. 'Well, there's a stable sets east of his house. His house got three +rooms and a path go straight to the stable. I see it there where he +hangs his harness. Yes, I see it all, the devils! Have you got any +money?' Yes, mam, a little, I said. 'All right then,' she said. 'Go to +the drug store and get 5¢ worth of blue stone; 5¢ wheat bran; and go ter +a fish market and ask 'em ter give you a little fish brine; then go in +the woods and get some poke-root berries. Now, there's two kinds of +poke-root berries, the red skin and the white skin berry. Put all this +in a pot, mix with it the guts from a green gourd and 9 parts of red +pepper. Make a poultice and put to his side on that knot. Now, listen, +your son will be afraid and think you are trying ter do something ter +him but be gentle and persuade him that its fer his good.' Child, he sho +did act funny when I told him I wanted to treat his side. I had ter tell +him I wuz carrying out doctors orders so he could get well. He reared +and fussed and said he didn't want that mess on him. I told him the +doctor says you do very well till you go ter the horse lot then you go +blind and you can't see. He looked at me. 'Sho nuff, Ma, he said, 'that +sho is the trufe. I have ter always call one of the chillun when I go +there cause I can't see how ter get back ter the house.' Well, that +convinced him and he let me fix the medicine for him. I put him ter bed +and made the poultice, then I put it ter his side. Now this 'oman said +no one wuz ter take it off the next morning but me. I wuz suppose ter +fix three, one each night, and after taking each one off ter bury it lak +dead folks is buried, east and west, and ter make a real grave out of +each one. Well, when I told him not ter move it the next morning, but +let me move it, he got funny again and wanted to know why. Do you know I +had ter play lak I could move it without messing up my bed clothes and +if he moved it he might waste it all. Finally he said he would call me +the next morning. Sho nuff, the next morning he called me, ma! ma! come +take it off. I went in the room and he wuz smiling. I slept all night +long he said, and I feel so much better. I'm so glad, I said, and do you +know he could reach down and fasten up his shoe and it had been a long +time since he could do that. Later that day I slipped out and made my +first grave under the fig bush in the garden. I even put up head boards, +too. That night Albert said, 'Mama, fix another one. I feel so much +better.' I sho will, I said. Thank God you're better; so fer three +nights I fixed poultices and put ter his side and each morning he would +tell me how much better he felt. Then the last morning I wuz fixing +breakfast and he sat in the next room. After while Albert jumped up and +hollered, Ma! Ma!' What is it,' I said. 'Mama, that knot is gone. It +dropped down in my pants.' What! I cried. Where is it? Chile, we looked +but we didn't find anything, but the knot had sho gone. Der 'oman had +told me ter come back when the knot moved and she would tell me what +else ter do. That same day I went ter see her and when I told her she +just shouted, 'I fixed 'em, The devils! Now, says she, do you [TR: +know?] where you can get a few leaves off a yellow peachtree. It must be +a yellow peach tree, though. Yes, mam, I says to her. I have a yellow +peachtree right there in my yard. Well, she says, get a handful of +leaves, then take a knife and scrape the bark up, then make a tea and +give him so it will heal up the poison from that knot in his side, also +mix a few jimson weeds with it. I come home and told him I wanted ter +give him a tea. He got scared and said, what fer, Ma? I had ter tell him +I wuz still carrying out the doctor's orders. Well, he let me give him +the tea and that boy got well. I went back to Mrs. Hirshpath and told +her my son was well and I wanted to pay her. Go on, she said, keep the +dollar and send your chillun ter school. This sho happened ter me and I +know people kin fix you. Yes sir." + +The next story was told to Mrs. Heard by Mrs. Hirshpath, the woman who +cured her son. + +I used to go see that 'oman quite a bit and even sent some of my +friends ter her. One day while I wuz there she told me about this piece +of work she did. + +"There was a young man and his wife and they worked fer some white +folks. They had jest married and wuz trying ter save some money ter buy +a home with. All at onct the young man went blind and it almost run him +and his wife crazy cause they didn't know what in the world ter do. +Well, somebody told him and her about Mrs. Hirshpath, so they went ter +see her. One day, says Mrs. Hirshpath, a big fine carriage drew up in +front of her door and the coachman helped him to her door. She asked him +who sent him and he told her. She only charged 50¢ for giving advice and +after you wuz cured it wuz up ter you to give her what you wanted to. +Well, this man gave her 50¢ and she talked ter him. She says, boy, you +go home and don't you put that cap on no more. What cap? he says. That +cap you wears ter clean up the stables with, cause somebody done dressed +that cap fer you, and every time you perspire and it run down ter your +eyes it makes you blind. You jest get that cap and bring it ter me. I'll +fix 'em; they's trying ter make you blind, but I go let you see. The boy +was overjoyed, and sho nuff he went back and brought her that cap, and +it wuzn't long fore he could see good as you and me. He brought that +'oman $50, but she wouldn't take but $25 and give the other $25 back ter +him. + +"What I done told you is the trufe, every word of it; I know some other +things that happened but you come back anudder day fer that." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +GEORGIA BAKER, Age 87 +369 Meigs Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +Dist. Supvr. +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + +August 4, 1938 + + +Georgia's address proved to be the home of her daughter, Ida Baker. The +clean-swept walks of the small yard were brightened by borders of gay +colored zinnias and marigolds in front of the drab looking two-story, +frame house. "Come in," answered Ida, in response to a knock at the +front door. "Yessum, Mammy's here. Go right in dat dere room and you'll +find her." + +Standing by the fireplace of the next room was a thin, very black woman +engaged in lighting her pipe. A green checked gingham apron partially +covered her faded blue frock over which she wore a black shirtwaist +fastened together with "safety first" pins. A white cloth, tied turban +fashion about her head, and gray cotton hose worn with black and white +slippers that were run down at the heels, completed her costume. + +"Good mornin'. Yessum, dis here's Georgia," was her greeting. "Let's go +in dar whar Ida is so us can set down. I don't know what you come for, +but I guess I'll soon find out." + +Georgia was eager to talk but her articulation had been impaired by a +paralytic stroke and at times it was difficult to understand her jumble +of words. After observance of the amenities; comments on the weather, +health and such subjects, she began: + +"Whar was I born? Why I was born on de plantation of a great man. It was +Marse Alec Stephens' plantation 'bout a mile and a half from +Crawfordville, in Taliaferro County. Mary and Grandison Tilly was my Ma +and Pa. Ma was cook up at de big house and she died when I was jus' a +little gal. Pa was a field hand, and he belonged to Marse Britt Tilly. + +"Dere was four of us chillun: me, and Mary, and Frances, and Mack," she +counted on the fingers of one hand. "Marse Alec let Marse Jim Johnson +have Mack for his bodyguard. Frances, she wuked in de field, and Mary +was de baby--she was too little to wuk. Me, I was 14 years old when de +war was over. I swept yards, toted water to de field, and played 'round +de house and yard wid de rest of de chillun. + +"De long, log houses what us lived in was called "shotgun" houses 'cause +dey had three rooms, one behind de other in a row lak de barrel of a +shotgun. All de chillun slept in one end room and de grown folkses slept +in de other end room. De kitchen whar us cooked and et was de middle +room. Beds was made out of pine poles put together wid cords. Dem +wheat-straw mattresses was for grown folkses mostly 'cause nigh all de +chillun slept on pallets. How-some-ever, dere was some few slave chillun +what had beds to sleep on. Pillows! Dem days us never knowed what +pillows was. Gals slept on one side of de room and boys on de other in +de chilluns room. Uncle Jim, he was de bed-maker, and he made up a heap +of little beds lak what dey calls cots now. + +"Becky and Stafford Stephens was my Grandma and Grandpa. Marse Alec +bought 'em in Old Virginny. I don't know what my Grandma done 'cause she +died 'fore I was borned, but I 'members Grandpa Stafford well enough. I +can see him now. He was a old man what slept on a trundle bed in the +kitchen, and all he done was to set by de fire all day wid a switch in +his hand and tend de chillun whilst dere mammies was at wuk. Chillun +minded better dem days dan dey does now. Grandpa Stafford never had to +holler at 'em but one time. Dey knowed dey would git de switch next if +dey didn't behave. + +"Now dere you is axin' 'bout dat somepin' t'eat us had dem days! Ida, +ain't dere a piece of watermelon in de ice box?" Georgia lifted the lid +of a small ice box, got out a piece of melon, and began to smack her +thick lips as she devoured it with an air of ineffable satisfaction. +When she had tilted the rind to swallow the last drop of pink juice, she +indicated that she was fortified and ready to exercise her now well +lubricated throat, by resuming her story: + +"Oh, yessum! Marse Alec, had plenty for his slaves to eat. Dere was +meat, bread, collard greens, snap beans, 'taters, peas, all sorts of +dried fruit, and just lots of milk and butter. Marse Alec had 12 cows +and dat's whar I learned to love milk so good. De same Uncle Jim what +made our beds made our wooden bowls what dey kept filled wid bread and +milk for de chillun all day. You might want to call dat place whar Marse +Alec had our veg'tables raised a gyarden, but it looked more lak a big +field to me, it was so big. You jus' ought to have seed dat dere +fireplace whar dey cooked all us had to eat. It was one sho 'nough big +somepin, all full of pots, skillets, and ovens. Dey warn't never 'lowed +to git full of smut neither. Dey had to be cleant and shined up atter +evvy meal, and dey sho was pretty hangin' dar in dat big old fireplace. + +"George and Mack was de hunters. When dey went huntin' dey brought back +jus' evvything: possums, rabbits, coons, squirrels, birds, and wild +turkeys. Yessum, wild turkeys is some sort of birds I reckon, but when +us talked about birds to eat us meant part'idges. Some folkses calls 'em +quails. De fishes us had in summertime was a sight to see. Us sho et +good dem days. Now us jus' eats what-some-ever us can git. + +"Summertime us jus' wore what us wanted to. Dresses was made wid full +skirts gathered on to tight fittin' waisties. Winter clothes was good +and warm; dresses made of yarn cloth made up jus' lak dem summertime +clothes, and petticoats and draw's made out of osnaburg. Chillun what +was big enough done de spinnin' and Aunt Betsey and Aunt Tinny, dey wove +most evvy night 'til dey rung de bell at 10:00 o'clock for us to go to +bed. Us made bolts and bolts of cloth evvy year. + +"Us went bar'foots in summer, but bless your sweet life us had good +shoes in winter and wore good stockin's too. It tuk three shoemakers for +our plantation. Dey was Uncle Isom, Uncle Jim, and Uncle Stafford. Dey +made up hole-stock shoes for de 'omans and gals and brass-toed brogans +for de mens and boys. + +"Us had pretty white dresses for Sunday. Marse Alec wanted evvybody on +his place dressed up dat day. He sont his houseboy, Uncle Harris, down +to de cabins evvy Sunday mornin' to tell evvy slave to clean hisself up. +Dey warn't never give no chance to forgit. Dere was a big old room sot +aside for a wash-room. Folkses laughs at me now 'cause I ain't never +stopped takin' a bath evvy Sunday mornin'. + +"Marse Lordnorth Stephens was de boss on Marse Alec's plantation. Course +Marse Alec owned us and he was our sho 'nough Marster. Neither one of +'em ever married. Marse Lordnorth was a good man, but he didn't have no +use for 'omans--he was a sissy. Dere warn't no Marster no whar no better +dan our Marse Alec Stephens, but he never stayed home enough to tend to +things hisself much 'cause he was all de time too busy on de outside. He +was de President or somepin of our side durin' de war. + +"Uncle Pierce went wid Marse Alec evvy whar he went. His dog, Rio, had +more sense dan most folkses. Marse Alec, he was all de time havin' big +mens visit him up at de big house. One time, out in de yard, him and one +of dem 'portant mens got in a argyment 'bout somepin. Us chillun snuck +up close to hear what dey was makin' such a rukus 'bout. I heared Marse +Alec say: 'I got more sense in my big toe dan you is got in your whole +body.' And he was right--he did have more sense dan most folkses. Ain't +I been a-tellin' you he was de President or somepin lak dat, dem days? + +"Ma, she was Marse Alec's cook and looked atter de house. Atter she died +Marse Lordnorth got Mrs. Mary Berry from Habersham County to keep house +at de big house, but Aunt 'Liza, she done de cookin' atter Miss Mary got +dar. Us little Niggers sho' did love Miss Mary. Us called her "Mammy +Mary" sometimes. Miss Mary had three sons and one of 'em was named Jeff +Davis. I 'members when dey come and got him and tuk him off to war. +Marse Lordnorth built a four-room house on de plantation for Miss Mary +and her boys. Evvybody loved our Miss Mary, 'cause she was so good and +sweet, and dere warn't nothin' us wouldn't have done for her. + +"No Lord! Marse Lordnorth never needed no overseer or no carriage driver +neither. Uncle Jim was de head man wat got de Niggers up evvy mornin' +and started 'em off to wuk right. De big house sho was a pretty place, +a-settin' up on a high hill. De squirrels was so tame dar dey jus' +played all 'round de yard. Marse Alec's dog is buried in dat yard. + +"No Mam, I never knowed how many acres dere was in de plantation us +lived on, and Marse Alec had other places too. He had land scattered +evvywhar. Lord, dere was a heap of Niggers on dat place, and all of us +was kin to one another. Grandma Becky and Grandpa Stafford was de fust +slaves Marse Alec ever had, and dey sho had a passel of chillun. One +thing sho Marse Lordnorth wouldn't keep no bright colored Nigger on dat +plantation if he could help it. Aunt Mary was a bright colored Nigger +and dey said dat Marse John, Marse Lordnorth's brother, was her Pa, but +anyhow Marse Lordnorth never had no use for her 'cause she was a bright +colored Nigger. + +"Marse Lordnorth never had no certain early time for his slaves to git +up nor no special late time for 'em to quit wuk. De hours dey wuked was +'cordin' to how much wuk was ahead to be done. Folks in Crawfordville +called us 'Stephens' Free Niggers.' + +"Us minded Marse Lordnorth--us had to do dat--but he let us do pretty +much as us pleased. Us never had no sorry piece of a Marster. He was a +good man and he made a sho 'nough good Marster. I never seed no Nigger +git a beatin', and what's more I never heared of nothin' lak dat on our +place. Dere was a jail in Crawfordville, but none of us Niggers on Marse +Alec's place warn't never put in it. + +"No Lord! None of us Niggers never knowed nothin' 'bout readin' and +writin'. Dere warn't no school for Niggers den, and I ain't never been +to school a day in my life. Niggers was more skeered of newspapers dan +dey is of snakes now, and us never knowed what a Bible was dem days. + +"Niggers never had no churches of deir own den. Dey went to de white +folkses' churches and sot in de gallery. One Sunday when me and my +sister Frances went to church I found 50¢ in Confederate money and +showed it to her. She tuk it away from me. Dat's de onliest money I seed +durin' slavery time. Course you knows dey throwed Confederate money away +for trash atter de war was over. Den us young chaps used to play wid it. + +"I never went to no baptizin's nor no funerals neither den. Funerals +warn't de style. When a Nigger died dem days, dey jus' put his body in a +box and buried it. I 'members very well when Aunt Sallie and Aunt +Catherine died, but I was little den, and I didn't take it in what dey +done bout buryin' 'em. + +"None of Marse Alec's slaves never run away to de North, 'cause he was +so good to 'em dey never wanted to leave him. De onliest Nigger what +left Marse Alec's place was Uncle Dave, and he wouldn't have left 'cept +he got in trouble wid a white 'oman. You needn't ax me her name 'cause I +ain't gwine to tell it, but I knows it well as I does my own name. +Anyhow Marse Alec give Uncle Dave some money and told him to leave, and +nobody never seed him no more atter dat. + +"Oh yessum! Us heared 'bout 'em, but none of us never seed no +patterollers on Marse Alec's plantation. He never 'lowed 'em on his +land, and he let 'em know dat he kept his slaves supplied wid passes +whenever dey wanted to go places so as dey could come and go when dey +got good and ready. Thursday and Sadday nights was de main nights dey +went off. Uncle Stafford's wife was Miss Mary Stephen's cook, Uncle +Jim's wife lived on de Finley place, and Uncle Isom's belonged to de +Hollises, so dey had regular passes all de time and no patterollers +never bothered 'em none. + +"Whenever Marse Alec or Marse Lordnorth wanted to send a message dey +jus' put George or Mack on a horse and sont 'em on but one thing sho, +dere warn't no slave knowed what was in dem letters. + +"Marse Alec sho had plenty of mules. Some of 'em was named: Pete, Clay, +Rollin, Jack, and Sal. Sal was Allen's slow mule, and he set a heap of +store by her. Dere was a heap more mules on dat place, but I can't call +back dere names right now. + +"Most times when slaves went to deir quarters at night, mens rested, but +sometimes dey holped de 'omans cyard de cotton and wool. Young folkses +frolicked, sung songs, and visited from cabin to cabin. When dey got +behind wid de field wuk, sometimes slaves wuked atter dinner Saddays, +but dat warn't often. But, Oh, dem Sadday nights! Dat was when slaves +got together and danced. George, he blowed de quills, and he sho could +blow grand dance music on 'em. Dem Niggers would jus' dance down. Dere +warn't no foolishment 'lowed atter 10:00 o'clock no night. Sundays dey +went to church and visited 'round, but folks didn't spend as much time +gaddin' 'bout lak dey does now days. + +"Christmas Day! Oh, what a time us Niggers did have dat day! Marse +Lordnorth and Marse Alec give us evvything you could name to eat: cake +of all kinds, fresh meat, lightbread, turkeys, chickens, ducks, geese, +and all kinds of wild game. Dere was allus plenty of pecans, apples, and +dried peaches too at Christmas. Marse Alec had some trees what had fruit +dat looked lak bananas on 'em, but I done forgot what was de name of dem +trees. Marse Alec would call de grown folkses to de big house early in +de mornin' and pass 'round a big pewter pitcher full of whiskey, den he +would put a little whiskey in dat same pitcher and fill it wid sweetened +water and give dat to us chillun. Us called dat 'toddy' or 'dram'. Marse +Alex allus had plenty of good whiskey, 'cause Uncle Willis made it up +for him and it was made jus' right. De night atter Christmas Day us +pulled syrup candy, drunk more liquor, and danced. Us had a big time for +a whole week and den on New Year's Day us done a little wuk jus' to +start de year right and us feasted dat day on fresh meat, plenty of +cake, and whiskey. Dere was allus a big pile of ash-roasted 'taters on +hand to go wid dat good old baked meat. Us allus tried to raise enough +'taters to last all through de winter 'cause Niggers sho does love dem +sweet 'taters. No Mam, us never knowed nothin' 'bout Santa Claus 'til +atter de war. + +"No Mam, dere warn't no special cornshuckin's and cotton pickin's on +Marse Alec's place, but of course dey did quilt in de winter 'cause dere +had to be lots of quiltin' done for all dem slaves to have plenty of +warm kivver, and you knows, Lady, 'omens can quilt better if dey gits a +passel of 'em together to do it. Marse Alec and Marse Lordnorth never +'lowed dere slaves to mix up wid other folkses business much. + +"Oh Lord! Us never played no games in slavery times, 'cept jus' to run +around in a ring and pat our hands. I never sung no songs 'cause I +warn't no singer, and don't talk 'bout no Raw Head and Bloody Bones or +nothin' lak dat. Dey used to skeer us chillun so bad 'bout dem sort of +things dat us used to lay in bed at night a-shakin' lak us was havin' +chills. I've seed plenty of ha'nts right here in Athens. Not long atter +I had left Crawfordville and moved to Athens, I had been in bed jus' a +little while one night, and was jus' dozin' off to sleep when I woke up +and sot right spang up in bed. I seed a white man, dressed in white, +standin' before me. I sho didn't say nothin' to him for I was too +skeered. De very last time I went to a dance, somepin got atter me and +skeered me so my hair riz up 'til I couldn't git my hat on my haid, and +dat cyored me of gwine to dances. I ain't never been to no more sich +doin's. + +"Old Marster was powerful good to his Niggers when dey got sick. He had +'em seed atter soon as it was 'ported to him dat dey was ailin'. Yessum, +dere warn't nothin' short 'bout our good Marsters, 'deed dere warn't! +Grandpa Stafford had a sore laig and Marse Lordnorth looked atter him +and had Uncle Jim dress dat pore old sore laig evvy day. Slaves didn't +git sick as often as Niggers does now days. Mammy Mary had all sorts of +teas made up for us, 'cordin' to whatever ailment us had. Boneset tea +was for colds. De fust thing dey allus done for sore throat was give us +tea made of red oak bark wid alum. Scurvy grass tea cleant us out in the +springtime, and dey made us wear little sacks of assfiddy (asafetida) +'round our necks to keep off lots of sorts of miseries. Some folkses +hung de left hind foot of a mole on a string 'round deir babies necks to +make 'em teethe easier. I never done nothin' lak dat to my babies 'cause +I never believed in no such foolishment. Some babies is jus' natchelly +gwine to teethe easier dan others anyhow. + +"I 'members jus' as good as if it was yesterday what Mammy Mary said +when she told us de fust news of freedom. 'You all is free now,' she +said. 'You don't none of you belong to Mister Lordnorth nor Mister Alec +no more, but I does hope you will all stay on wid 'em, 'cause dey will +allus be jus' as good to you as dey has done been in de past.' Me, I +warn't even studyin' nothin' 'bout leavin' Marse Alec, but Sarah Ann and +Aunt Mary, dey threwed down deir hoes and jus' whooped and hollered +'cause dey was so glad. When dem Yankees come to our place Mammy Mary +axed 'em if dey warn't tired of war. 'What does you know 'bout no war?' +Dey axed her right back. 'No, us won't never git tired of doin' good.' + +"I stayed on wid my two good Marsters 'til most 3 years atter de war, +and den went to wuk for Marse Tye Elder in Crawfordville. Atter dat I +wuked for Miss Puss King, and when she left Crawfordville I come on here +to Athens and wuked for Miss Tildy Upson on Prince Avenue. Den I went to +Atlanta to wuk for Miss Ruth Evage (probably Elliott). Miss Ruth was a +niece of Abraham Lincoln's. Her father was President Lincoln's brother +and he was a Methodist preacher what lived in Mailpack, New York. I went +evvywhar wid Miss Ruth. When me and Miss Ruth was in Philadelphia, I got +sick and she sont me home to Athens and I done been here wid my daughter +ever since. + +"Lawdy, Miss! I ain't never been married, but I did live wid Major Baker +18 years and us had five chillun. Dey is all daid but two. Niggers +didn't pay so much 'tention to gittin' married dem days as dey does now. +I stays here wid my gal, Ida Baker. My son lives in Cleveland, Ohio. My +fust child was borned when I warn't but 14 years old. De war ended in +April and she was borned in November of dat year. Now, Miss! I ain't +never told but one white 'oman who her Pa was, so you needn't start +axin' me nothin' 'bout dat. She had done been walkin' evvywhar 'fore she +died when she was jus' 10 months old and I'm a-tellin' you de truth +when I say she had more sense dan a heap of white chillun has when dey +is lots older dan she was. Whilst I was off in New York wid Miss Ruth, +Major, he up and got married. I reckon he's daid by now. I don't keer +nohow, atter de way he done me. I made a good livin' for Major 'til he +married again. I seed de 'oman he married once. + +"Yes Mam," there was strong emphasis in this reply. "I sho would ruther +have slavery days back if I could have my same good Marsters 'cause I +never had no hard times den lak I went through atter dey give us +freedom. I ain't never got over not bein' able to see Marse Alec no +more. I was livin' at Marse Tye Elder's when de gate fell on Marse Alec, +and he was crippled and lamed up from dat time on 'til he died. He got +to be Governor of Georgia whilst he was crippled. When he got hurt by +dat gate, smallpox was evvywhar and dey wouldn't let me go to see 'bout +him. Dat most killed me 'cause I did want to go see if dere was somepin' +I could do for him. + +"Lordy Mussy, Miss! I had a time jinin' up wid de church. I was in +Mailpack, New York, wid Miss Ruth when I had de urge to jine up. I told +Miss Ruth 'bout it and she said: 'Dere ain't no Baptist church in 10 +miles of here.' 'Lord, have mussy!' I said. 'Miss Ruth, what I gwine do? +Dese is all Methodist churches up here and I jus' can't jine up wid no +Methodists.' 'Yes you can,' she snapped at me, 'cause my own Pa's +a-holdin a 'vival in dis very town and de Methodist church is de best +anyhow.' Well, I went on and jined de Reverend Lincoln's Methodist +church, but I never felt right 'bout it. Den us went to Philadelphia and +soon as I could find a Baptist church dar, I jined up wid it. Northern +churches ain't lak our southern churches 'cause de black and white +folkses all belong to de same church dar and goes to church together. On +dat account I still didn't feel lak I had jined de church. Bless your +sweet life, Honey, when I come back to de South, I was quick as I could +be to jine up wid a good old southern Baptist church. I sho didn't mean +to live outdoors, 'specially atter I dies." Georgia's eyes sparkled and +her flow of speech was smooth as she told of her religious experiences. +When that subject was exhausted her eyes dimmed again and her speech +became less articulate. + +Georgia's reeking pipe had been laid aside for the watermelon and not +long after that was consumed the restless black fingers sought +occupation sewing gay pieces for a quilt. "Miss, I warn't born to be +lazy, I warn't raised dat way, and I sho ain't skeered to die. + +"Good-bye, Honey," said Georgia, as the interviewer arose and made her +way toward the street. "Hurry back and don't forgit to fetch me dat +purty pink dress you is a-wearin'. I don't lak white dresses and I ain't +never gwine to wear a black one nohow." + + +[TR: Return Visit] + +Georgia was on the back porch washing her face and hands and quarrelling +with Ida for not having her breakfast ready at nine-thirty when the +interviewer arrived for a re-visit. + +"Come in," Georgia invited, "and have a cheer. But, Miss I done told you +all I knows 'bout Marse Alec and dem deys when I lived on his +plantation. You know chillun den warn't 'lowed to hang 'round de grown +folks whar dey could hear things what was talked about." + +About this time Ida came down from a second-floor kitchen with her +mother's breakfast. She was grumbling a little louder on each step of +the rickety stairway. "Lord, have mussy! Ma is still a-talkin' 'bout dat +old slavery stuff, and it ain't nothin' nohow." After Ida's eyes had +rested on the yellow crepe frock just presented Georgia in appreciation +of the three hours she had given for the first interview, she became +reconciled for the story to be resumed, and even offered her assistance +in rousing the recollections of her parent. + +"Did I tell you" Georgia began, "dat de man what looked atter Marse +Alec's business was his fust cousin? He was de Marse Lordnorth I'se all +time talkin' 'bout, and Marse John was Marse Lordnorth's brother. Dere +warn't no cook or house gal up at de big house but Ma 'til atter she +died, and den when Miss Mary Berry tuk charge of de house dey made +Uncle Harry and his wife, Aunt 'Liza, house boy and cook. + +"Marse Alec growed all his corn on his Googer Crick plantation. He +planned for evvything us needed and dere warn't but mighty little dat he +didn't have raised to take keer of our needs. Lordy, didn't I tell you +what sort of shoes, holestock shoes is? Dem was de shoes de 'omans wore +and dey had extra pieces on de sides so us wouldn't knock holes in 'em +too quick. + +"De fust time I ever seed Marse Alec to know who he was, I warn't more'n +6 years old. Uncle Stafford had went fishin' and cotched de nicest mess +of fish you ever seed. He cleant 'em and put 'em in a pan of water, and +told me to take 'em up to de big house to Marse Alec. I was skeered when +I went in de big house yard and axed, what looked lak a little boy, whar +Marse Alec was, and I was wuss skeered when he said: 'Dis is Marse Alec +you is talkin' to. What you want?' I tole him Uncle Stafford sont him de +fishes and he told me: 'Take 'em to de kitchen and tell 'Liza to cook +'em for me.' I sho ain't never gwine to forgit dat. + +"One day dey sont me wid a bucket of water to de field, and I had to go +through de peach orchard. I et so many peaches, I was 'most daid when I +got back to de house. Dey had to drench me down wid sweet milk, and from +dat day to dis I ain't never laked peaches. From den on Marse Alec +called me de 'peach gal.' + +"Marse Alec warn't home much of de time, but when he was dar he used to +walk down to de cabins and laugh and talk to his Niggers. He used to +sing a song for de slave chillun dat run somepin lak dis: + + 'Walk light ladies + De cake's all dough, + You needn't mind de weather, + If de wind don't blow.'" + +Georgia giggled when she came to the end of the stanza. "Us didn't know +when he was a-singin' dat tune to us chillun dat when us growed up us +would be cake walkin' to de same song. + +"On Sundays, whenever Marse Alec was home, he done lots of readin' out +of a great big old book. I didn't know what it was, but he was pow'ful +busy wid it. He never had no parties or dancin' dat I knows 'bout, but +he was all time havin' dem big 'portant mens at his house talkin' 'bout +de business what tuk him off from home so much. I used to see Lawyer +Coombs dere heaps of times. He was a big, fine lookin' man. Another big +lawyer was all time comin' dar too, but I done lost his name. Marse Alec +had so awful much sense in his haid dat folkses said it stunted his +growin'. Anyhow, long as he lived he warn't no bigger dan a boy. + +"When Uncle Harry's and Aunt 'Liza's daughter what was named 'Liza, got +married he was in Washin'ton or some place lak dat. He writ word to +Marse Linton, his half-brother, to pervide a weddin' for her. I knows +'bout dat 'cause I et some of dat barbecue. Dat's all I 'members 'bout +her weddin'. I done forgot de name of de bridegroom. He lived on some +other plantation. Aunt 'Liza had two gals and one boy. He was named +Allen. + +"Whilst Marse Alec was President or somepin, he got sick and had to come +back home, and it wern't long atter dat 'fore de surrender. Allen was +'pinted to watch for de blue coats. When dey come to take Marse Alec +off, dey was all over the place wid deir guns. Us Niggers hollered and +cried and tuk on pow'ful 'cause us sho thought dey was gwine to kill him +on account of his bein' such a high up man on de side what dey was +fightin'. All de Niggers followed 'em to de depot when dey tuk Marse +Alec and Uncle Pierce away. Dey kept Marse Alec in prison off somewhar a +long time but dey sont Pierce back home 'fore long. + +"I seed Jeff Davis when dey brung him through Crawfordville on de train. +Dey had him all fastened up wid chains. Dey told me dat a Nigger 'oman +put pizen in Jeff Davis' somepin t'eat and dat was what kilt him. One +thing sho, our Marse Alec warn't pizened by nobody. He was comin' from +de field one day when a big old heavy gate fell down on him, and even if +he did live a long time atterwards dat was what was de cause of his +death. + +"I seed Uncle Pierce 'fore he died and us sot and talked and cried 'bout +Marse Alec. Yessum, us sho did have de best Marster in de world. If +ever a man went to Heaven, Marse Alec did. I sho does wish our good old +Marster was livin' now. Now, Miss, I done told you all I can ricollec' +'bout dem days. I thanks you a lot for dat purty yaller dress, and I +hopes you comes back to see me again sometime." + + + + +ALICE BATTLE, EX-SLAVE +Hawkinsville, Georgia + +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson--1936) +[JUL 20, 1937] + + +During the 1840's, Emanuel Caldwell--born in North Carolina, and Neal +Anne Caldwell--born in South Carolina, were brought to Macon by +"speculators" and sold to Mr. Ed Marshal of Bibb County. Some time +thereafter, this couple married on Mr. Marshal's plantation, and their +second child, born about 1850, was Alice Battle. From her birth until +freedom, Alice was a chattel of this Mr. Marshal, whom she refers to as +a humane man, though inclined to use the whip when occasion demanded. + +Followed to its conclusion, Alice's life history is void of thrills and +simply an average ex-slave's story. As a slave, she was well fed, well +clothed, and well treated, as were her brother and sister slaves. Her +mother was a weaver, her father--a field hand, and she did both +housework and plantation labor. + +Alice saw the Yankee pass her ex-master's home with their famous +prisoner, Jeff Davis, after his capture, in '65. The Yankee band, says +she, was playing "We'll hang Jeff Davis on a Sour Apple Tree". Some of +the soldiers "took time out" to rob the Marshal smokehouse. The Whites +and Negroes were all badly frightened, but the "damyankees didn't harm +nobody". + +After freedom, Alice remained with the Marshals until Christmas, when +she moved away. Later, she and her family moved back to the Marshal +plantation for a few years. A few years still later, Alice married a +Battle "Nigger". + +Since the early '70's, Alice has "drifted around" quite a bit. She and +her husband are now too old and feeble to work. They live with one of +their sons, and are objects of charity. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +JASPER BATTLE, Age 80 +112 Berry St., +Athens, Ga. + +Written by: +Grace McCune [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +The shade of the large water oaks in Jasper's yard was a welcome sight +when the interviewer completed the long walk to the old Negro's place in +the sweltering heat of a sunny July afternoon. The old house appeared to +be in good condition and the yard was clean and tidy. Jasper's wife, +Lula, came around the side of the house in answer to the call for +Jasper. A large checked apron almost covered her blue dress and a clean +white headcloth concealed her hair. Despite her advanced age, she seemed +to be quite spry. + +"Jus' come back here whar I'se a-doin' de white folks' washin'," she +said. "Jasper's done been powerful sick and I can't leave him by hisself +none. I brung him out here in de shade so I could watch him and 'tend to +him whilst I wuks. Jasper stepped on a old plank what had two rusty +nails in it, and both of 'em went up in his foot a fur ways. I done driv +dem nails plumb up to dey haids in de north side of a tree and put +jimpson weed poultices on Jasper's foot, but it's still powerful bad +off." + +By this time we had arrived within sight and earshot of the old rocking +chair where Jasper sat with his foot propped high in another chair. His +chair had long ago been deprived of its rockers. The injured member +appeared to be swollen and was covered with several layers of the +jimpson weed leaves. The old man's thin form was clothed in a faded blue +shirt and old gray cotton trousers. His clothes were clean and his +white hair was in marked contrast to his shining but wrinkled black +face. He smiled when Lula explained the nature of the proposed +interview. "'Scuse me, Missy," he apologized, "for not gittin' up, +'cause I jus' can't use dis old foot much, but you jus' have a seat here +in de shade and rest yourself." Lula now excused herself, saying: "I +jus' got to hurry and git de white folks' clothes washed and dried 'fore +it rains," and she resumed her work in the shade of another huge tree +where a fire was burning brightly under her washpot and a row of +sud-filled tubs occupied a long bench. + +"Lula, she has to wuk all de time," Jasper explained, "and she don't +never have time to listen to me talk. I'se powerful glad somebody is +willin' to stop long enough to pay some heed whilst I talks 'bout +somepin. Dem days 'fore de war was good old days, 'specially for de +colored folks. I know, 'cause my Mammy done told me so. You see I was +mighty little and young when de war was over, but I heared de old folks +do lots of talkin' 'bout dem times whilst I was a-growin' up, and den +too, I stayed right dar on dat same place 'til I was 'bout grown. It was +Marse Henry Jones' plantation 'way off down in Taliaferro County, nigh +Crawfordville, Georgy. Mammy b'longed to Marse Henry. She was Harriet +Jones. Daddy was Simon Battle and his owner was Marse Billie Battle. De +Battle's plantation was off down dar nigh de Jones' place. When my Mammy +and Daddy got married Marse Henry wouldn't sell Mammy, and Marse Billie +wouldn't sell Daddy, so dey didn't git to see one another but twice a +week--dat was on Wednesday and Sadday nights--'til atter de war was done +over. I kin still 'member Daddy comin' over to Marse Henry's plantation +to see us. + +"Marse Henry kept a lot of slaves to wuk his big old plantation whar he +growed jus' evvything us needed to eat and wear 'cept sugar and coffee +and de brass toes for our home-made, brogan shoes. Dere allus was +a-plenty t'eat and wear on dat place. + +"Slave quarters was log cabins built in long rows. Some had chimblies in +de middle, twixt two rooms, but de most of 'em was jus' one-room cabins +wid a stick and mud chimbly at de end. Dem chimblies was awful bad 'bout +ketchin' on fire. Didn't nobody have no glass windows. Dey jus' had +plain plank shutters for blinds and de doors was made de same way, out +of rough planks. All de beds was home-made and de best of 'em was +corded. Dey made holes in de sides and foots and haidpieces, and run +heavy home-made cords in dem holes. Dey wove 'em crossways in and out of +dem holes from one side to another 'til dey had 'em ready to lay de +mattress mat on. I'se helped to pull dem cords tight many a time. Our +mattress ticks was made of homespun cloth and was stuffed wid wheat +straw. 'Fore de mattress tick was put on de bed a stiff mat wove out of +white oak splits was laid on top of de cords to pertect de mattress and +make it lay smooth. Us was 'lowed to pick up all de old dirty cotton +'round de place to make our pillows out of. + +"Jus' a few of de slave famblies was 'lowed to do deir own cookin' +'cause Marster kept cooks up at de big house what never had nothin' else +to do but cook for de white folks and slaves. De big old fireplace in +dat kitchen at de big house was more dan eight feet wide and you could +pile whole sticks of cord-wood on it. It had racks acrost to hang de +pots on and big ovens and little ovens and big, thick, iron fryin' pans +wid long handles and hefty iron lids. Dey could cook for a hunderd +people at one time in dat big old kitchen easy. At one time dere was +tables acrost one end of de kitchen for de slaves t'eat at, and de slave +chillun et dar too. + +"Marster was mighty good to slave chillun. He never sont us out to wuk +in de fields 'til us was 'most growed-up, say 12 or 14 years old. A +Nigger 12 or 14 years old dem days was big as a white child 17 or 18 +years old. Why Miss, Niggers growed so fast, dat most of de Nigger +nurses warn't no older dan de white chillun dey tuk keer of. Marster +said he warn't gwine to send no babies to de fields. When slave chillun +got to be 'bout 9 or 10 years old dey started 'em to fetchin' in wood +and water, cleanin' de yards, and drivin' up de cows at night. De +bigges' boys was 'lowed to measure out and fix de stock feed, but de +most of us chillun jus' played in de cricks and woods all de time. +Sometimes us played Injuns and made so much fuss dat old Aunt Nancy +would come out to de woods to see what was wrong, and den when she found +us was jus' a-havin' fun, she stropped us good for skeerin' her. + +"Mammy's job was to make all de cloth. Dat was what she done all de +time; jus' wove cloth. Some of de others cyarded de bats and spun +thread, but Mammy, she jus' wove on so reg'lar dat she made enough cloth +for clothes for all dem slaves on de plantation and, it's a fact, us did +have plenty of clothes. All de nigger babies wore dresses made jus' alak +for boys and gals. I was sho'ly mighty glad when dey 'lowed me to git +rid of dem dresses and wear shirts. I was 'bout 5 years old den, but dat +boys' shirt made me feel powerful mannish. Slave gals wore homespun +cotton dresses, and dey had plenty of dem dresses, so as dey could keep +nice and clean all de time. Dey knitted all de socks and stockin's for +winter. Dem gals wore shawls, and dere poke bonnets had ruffles 'round +'em. All de shoes was home-made too. Marster kept one man on de +plantation what didn't do nothin' but make shoes. Lordy, Missy! What +would gals say now if dey had to wear dem kind of clothes? Dey would +raise de roof plumb offen de house. But jus' let me tell you, a purty +young gal dressed in dem sort of clothes would look mighty sweet to me +right now. + +"Us never could eat all de meat in Marster's big old smokehouse. +Sometimes he tuk hams to de store and traded 'em for sugar and coffee. +Plenty of 'bacco was raised on dat plantation for all de white folks and +de growed-up Niggers. Slave chillun warn't sposen to have none, so us +had to swipe what 'bacco us got. If our Mammies found out 'bout us +gittin' 'bacco, dey stropped us 'til de skin was most off our backs, but +sometimes us got away wid a little. If us seed any of de old folks was +watchin' us, us slipped de 'bacco from one to another of us whilst dey +s'arched us, and it went mighty bad on us if dey found it. + +"Slaves went to de white folks' church and listened to de white +preachers. Dere warn't no colored preacher 'lowed to preach in dem +churches den. Dey preached to de white folks fust and den dey let de +colored folks come inside and hear some preachin' atter dey was through +wid de white folks. But on de big 'vival meetin' days dey 'lowed de +Niggers to come in and set in de gallery and listen at de same time dey +preached to de white folks. When de sermon was over dey had a big dinner +spread out on de grounds and dey had jus' evvything good t'eat lak +chickens, barbecued hogs and lambs, pies, and lots of watermelons. Us +kept de watermelons in de crick 'til dey was ready to cut 'em. A white +gentleman, what dey called Mr. Kilpatrick, done most of de preachin'. He +was from de White Plains neighborhood. He sho' did try mighty hard to +git evvybody to 'bey de Good Lord and keep his commandments. + +"Mr. Kilpatrick preached all de funerals too. It 'pears lak a heap more +folks is a-dyin' out dese days dan died den, and folks was a heap better +den to folks in trouble. Dey would go miles and miles den when dey +didn't have no auto'biles, to help folks what was in trouble. Now, dey +won't go next door when dere's death in de house. Den, when anybody died +de fust thing dey done was to shroud 'em and lay 'em out on de coolin' +board 'til Old Marster's cyarpenter could git de coffin made up. Dere +warn't no embalmers dem days and us had to bury folks de next day atter +dey died. De coffins was jus' de same for white folks and deir slaves. +On evvy plantation dere was a piece of ground fenced in for a graveyard +whar dey buried white folks and slaves too. My old Daddy is buried down +yonder on Marse Henry's plantation right now. + +"When a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal, he didn't ax de gal, +but he went and told Marster 'bout it. Marster would talk to de gal and +if she was willin', den Marster would tell all de other Niggers us was +a-goin' to have a weddin'. Dey would all come up to de big house and +Marster would tell de couple to jine hands and jump backwards over a +broomstick, and den he pernounced 'em man and wife. Dey didn't have to +have no licenses or nothin' lak dey does now. If a man married up wid +somebody on another place, he had to git a pass from his Marster, so as +he could go see his wife evvy Wednesday and Sadday nights. When de +patterollers cotched slaves out widout no passes, dey evermore did beat +'em up. Leastways dat's what Mammy told me. + +"Durin' de big war all de white folkses was off a-fightin' 'cept dem +what was too old to fight or what was too bad crippled and 'flicted. Dey +stayed home and looked atter de 'omans and chillun. Somebody sont +Mist'ess word dat dem yankees was on de way to our plantation and she +hid evvything she could, den had de hogs and hosses driv off to de +swamps and hid. Mammy was crazy 'bout a pet pig what Marster had done +give her, so Mist'ess told her to go on down to dat swamp quick, and +hide dat little pig. Jus' as she was a-runnin' back in de yard, dem +yankees rid in and she seed 'em a-laughin' fit to kill. She looked +'round to see what dey was tickled 'bout and dere followin' her lak a +baby was dat pig. Dem yankees was perlite lak, and dey never bothered +nothin' on our place, but dey jus' plumb ruint evvything on some of de +plantations right close to our'n. Dey tuk nigh evvything some of our +neighbors had t'eat, most all deir good hosses, and anything else dey +wanted. Us never did know why dey never bothered our white folkses' +things. + +"When dey give us our freedom us went right on over to Marse Billie +Battle's place and stayed dar wid Daddy 'bout a year; den Daddy come wid +us back to Marse Henry's, and dar us stayed 'til Old Marster died. Long +as he lived atter de war, he wukked most of his help on sheers, and seed +dat us was tuk keer of jus' lak he had done when us all b'longed to him. +Us never went to school much 'cause Mammy said white folks didn't lak +for Niggers to have no larnin', but atter de war was done over our Old +Mist'ess let colored chillun have some lessons in a little cabin what +was built in de back yard for de white chillun to go to school in. + +"Atter dey buried our Old Marster, us moved down to Hancock County and +farmed dar, 'cause dat was all us knowed how to do. Us got together and +raised money to buy ground enough for a churchyard and a graveyard for +colored folks. Dat graveyard filled up so fast dat dey had to buy more +land several times. Us holped 'em build de fust colored church in +Hancock County. + +"School for colored chillun was held den in our church house. Our +teacher was a white man, Mr. Tom Andrews, and he was a mighty good +teacher, but Lordy, how strick he was! Dese here chillun don't know +nothin' 'bout school. Us went early in de mornin', tuk our dinner in a +bucket, and never left 'til four o'clock, and sometimes dat was 'most +nigh sundown. All day us studied dat blue back speller, and dat white +teacher of ours sho' tuk de skin offen our backs if us didn't mind him. +Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' and foolin' 'round on de way home, +'cause dat white teacher 'lowed he had control of us 'til us got to our +Mammies' doors and if us didn't git for home in a hurry, it was jus' too +bad for us when he tuk it out on us next day wid dat long hick'ry +switch. + +"Things is sho' diffunt now. Folks ain't good now as dey was den, but +dere is gwine to be a change. I may not be here to see it, but it's +a-comin' 'cause de Good Lord is done 'sied (prophesied) it, and it's got +to be. God's sayin' is comin' to pass jus' as sho' as us is livin' and +settin' in de shade of dis here tree. + +"Lordy, Miss! How come you axes 'bout colored folks'es weddin's? I was +a-courtin' a little 14-year old gal named Lovie Williams, but her Mammy +runned me off and said she warn't gwine to let Lovie git married up wid +nobody 'til she got big enough. I jus' bought dem licenses and watched +for my chanct and den I stole dat gal right from under her Mammy's eyes. +My Mammy knowed all 'bout it and holped us git away. Us didn't have no +time for no weddin'. De best us could do was jus' to git ourselfs +married up. Lovie's Mammy raised de Old Ned, but us didn't keer den, +'cause it was too late for her to do nothin' to part us. Lovie was one +of the bestest gals what ever lived. Us raised 12 chillun and I never +had one speck of trouble wid her. Lovie's done been daid 15 years now." + +His voice trembled as he talked about his first wife, and Lula almost +stopped her work to listen. This kind of talk did not please her and her +expression grew stern. "You done talked a-plenty," she told him. "You +ain't strong 'nough to do no more talkin'," but Jasper was not willing +to be silenced. "I reckon I knows when I'se tired. I ain't gwine to hush +'til I gits good and ready," was his protest. "Yes Missy," he continued. +"All our chillun is done daid now 'cept four and dey is 'way off up +North. Ain't nobody left here 'cept me and Lula. Lula is pow'ful good to +me. I done got too old to wuk, and can't do nothin' nohow wid dis old +foot so bad off. I'se ready and even anxious to go when de Good Lord +calls for old Jasper to come to de Heav'nly Home. + +"I ain't heared nothin' from my only brother in over 7 years. I 'spose +he still lives in Crawfordville. Missy, I wishes I could go back down to +Crawfordville one more time. I kin jus' see our old homeplace on de +plantation down dar now. Lula a-washin' here, makes me study 'bout de +old washplace on Marse Henry's plantation. Dere was a long bench full of +old wood tubs, and a great big iron pot for bilin' de clothes, and de +batten block and stick. Chillun beat de clothes wid de batten stick and +kept up de fire 'round de pot whilst de 'omans leaned over de tubs +washin' and a-singin' dem old songs. You could hear 'em 'most a mile +away. Now and den one of de 'omans would stop singin' long enough to +yell at de chillun to 'git more wood on dat fire 'fore I lash de skin +offen your back.' + +"Oh Missy, dem was good old days. Us would be lucky to have 'em back +again, 'specially when harvest time comes 'round. You could hear Niggers +a-singin' in de fields 'cause dey didn't have no worries lak dey got +now. When us got de corn up from de fields, Niggers come from far and +nigh to Marster's cornshuckin'. Dat cornshuckin' wuk was easy wid +evvybody singin' and havin' a good time together whilst dey made dem +shucks fly. De cornshuckin' captain led all de singin' and he set right +up on top of de highes' pile of corn. De chillun was kept busy a-passin' +de liquor jug 'round. Atter it started gittin' dark, Marster had big +bonfires built up and plenty of torches set 'round so as dere would be +plenty of light. Atter dey et all dey wanted of dem good things what had +done been cooked up for de big supper, den de wrastlin' matches started, +and Marster allus give prizes to de best wrastlers. Dere warn't no +fussin' and fightin' 'lowed on our place, and dem wrastlin' matches was +all in good humor and was kept orderly. Marster wanted evvybody to be +friends on our plantation and to stay dat way, for says he: 'De Blessed +Saviour done said for us to love our neighbor as ourselfs, and to give +and what us gives is gwine to come back to us.' Missy, de Good Lord's +word is always right." + +The interviewer was preparing to leave when one of Jasper's old friends +approached the sheltering tree in the yard, where the interview was +drawing to a close. "Brudder Paul," said Jasper, "I wisht you had come +sooner 'cause Missy, here, and me is done had de bestes' time a-goin' +back over dem old times when folks loved one another better dan dey does +now. Good-bye Missy, you done been mighty kind and patient wid old +Jasper. Come back again some time." + + + + +[HW: Dist. -- +Ex-Slv. #10] + +ARRIE BINNS OF WASHINGTON-WILKES + +by +Minnie Branham Stonestreet +Washington-Wilkes +Georgia +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Arrie Binns lives in Baltimore, a negro suburb of Washington-Wilkes, in +a little old tumbled down kind of a cottage that used to be one of the +neatest and best houses of the settlement and where she has lived for +the past sixty-odd years. In the yard of her home is one of the most +beautiful holly trees to be found anywhere. She set it there herself +over fifty years ago. She recalled how her friends predicted bad luck +would befall her because she "sot out er holly", but not being in the +least bit superstitious she paid them "no mind" and has enjoyed her +beautiful tree all these years. Many lovely oaks are around her house; +she set them there long ago when she was young and with her husband +moved into their new home and wanted to make it as attractive as +possible. She is all alone now. Her husband died some years ago and +three of her four children have passed on. Her "preacher son" who was +her delight, died not very long ago. All this sorrow has left Aunt Arrie +old and sad; her face is no longer lighted by the smile it used to know. +She is a tiny little scrap of a woman with the softest voice and is as +neat as can be. She wears an oldfashioned apron all the time and in cool +weather there is always a little black cape around her frail shoulders +and held together with a plain old gold "breastpin". + +She was born in Lincoln County (Georgia), her mother was Emeline Sybert +and her father Jordan Sybert. They belonged to Mr. Jones Sybert and his +wife "Miss Peggy". After freedom they changed their surname to Gullatt +as they liked that better. Arrie was among the oldest of nine children. +The night she was born the stork brought a little baby girl to the home +of a white family just across the creek from the Syberts. The little +white girl was named Arine so "Miss Peggy" named the little new black +baby girl Arrie, and that is how it happened she was given such an odd +name. + +Arrie said she was "15 or 16 years old when the war broke (1865), I wuz +big enough to be lookin' at boys an' dey lookin' at me." She remembers +the days of war, how when the battle of Atlanta was raging they heard +the distant rumble of cannon, and how "upsot" they all were. Her master +died of "the consumption" during the war. She recalls how hard it was +after his death. The Syberts had no children and there was no one to +turn to after his death. Arrie tells of her Master's illness, how she +was the housemaid and was called upon to fan him and how she would get +so tired and sleepy she would nod a little, the fan dropping from hands +into his face. He would take it up and "crack my haid with the handle to +wake me up. I wuz allus so sorry when I done that, but I jest had ter +nod." + +She told about how bad the overseers were and the trouble they gave +until finally "old Miss turned off ther one she had an' put my Pa in his +place to manage things and look after the work." Arrie was never +punished, (not any more than having her head cracked by her Master when +she nodded while fanning him.) "No mam, not none of our niggers wuz +whipped. Why I recollect once, my brother wuz out without a pass an' de +patter rollers kotch him and brung him to old Miss and said he'd have +ter be whipped, old Miss got so mad she didn't know what ter do, she +said nobody wuz a goin' ter whip her niggers, but the patter roller men +'sisted so she said after er while, 'Well, but I'm goin' ter stan' right +here an' when I say stop, yer got ter stop', an' they 'greed to dat, an' +the third time dey hit him she raised her han' an' said 'STOP' an' dey +had ter let my brother go. My Miss wuz a big 'oman, she'd weigh nigh on +ter three hundred pound, I 'spect." + +After her master's death Arrie had to go into the field to work. She +recalled with a little chuckle, the old cream horse, "Toby" she use to +plow. She loved Toby, she said, and they did good work. When not plowing +she said she "picked er round in the fields" doing whatever she could. +She and the other slaves were not required to do very hard work. Her +mother was a field hand, but in the evenings she spun and wove down in +their cabin. Aunt Arrie added "an' I did love to hear that old spinnin' +wheel. It made a low kind of a whirring sound that made me sleepy." She +said her mother, with all the other negro women on the place, had "a +task of spinnin' a spool at night", and they spun and wove on rainy days +too. "Ma made our clothes an' we had pretty dresses too. She dyed some +blue and brown striped. We growed the indigo she used fer the blue, +right dar on the plantation, and she used bark and leaves to make the +tan and brown colors." + +Aunt Arrie said the Doctor was always called in when they were sick, +"but we never sont fer him lesse'n somebody wuz real sick. De old folks +doctored us jest fer little ailments. Dey give us lye tea fer colds. +(This was made by taking a few clean ashes from the fire place, putting +them in a little thin bag and pouring boiling water over them and let +set for a few minutes. This had to be given very weak or else it would +be harmful, Aunt Arrie explained.) Garlic and whiskey, and den, dar +ain't nothin' better fer the pneumony dan splinter tea. I've cured bad +cases with it." (That is made by pouring boiling water over lightwood +splinters.) + +Aunt Arrie told of their life on the plantation and it was not unlike +that of other slaves who had good masters who looked after them. They +had plenty to eat and to wear. Their food was given them and they cooked +and ate their meals in the cabins in family groups. Santa Claus always +found his way to the Quarters and brought them stick candy and other +things to eat. She said for their Christmas dinner there was always a +big fat hen and a hog head. + +In slavery days the negroes had quiltings, dances, picnics and everybody +had a good time, Aunt Arrie said, "an' I kin dance yit when I hears a +fiddle." They had their work to do in the week days, but when Sundays +came there was no work, everybody rested and on "preachin' days" went to +Church. Her father took them all to old Rehoboth, the neighborhood white +church, and they worshiped together, white and black, the negroes in +the gallery. That was back in the days when there was "no lookin' +neither to the right nor to the left" when in church; no matter what +happened, no one could even half way smile. This all was much harder +than having to listen to the long tiresome sermons of those days, Arrie +thinks, specially when she recalled on one occasion "when Mr. Sutton wuz +a preachin' a old goat [HW: got] up under the Church an' every time Mr. +Sutton would say something out real loud that old goat would go 'Bah-a-a +Bah ba-a-a' an' we couldn't laugh a bit. I most busted, I wanted ter +laugh so bad." + +"Yassum, in dem days" continued Aunt Arrie, "all us colored folks went +to the white folks church kase us didn't have no churches of our own and +day want no colored preachers den, but some what wuz called +"Chairbacks". The Chairback fellows went er round preachin' an' singin' +in the cabins down in the Quarters and dey use ter have the bes' +meetin's, folks would be converted an' change dey way. De hymns dey sung +de most wuz "Amazin' Grace" an' "Am I Born ter Die?" I 'members de +meetin's us use ter have down in our cabin an' how everybody would pray +an' sing." + +"Dey ain't nothin' lak it use ter be," sighed Aunt Arrie, "Now when I +first could recollect, when a nigger died they sot up with de corpse all +night and de next day had de funeral an' when dey started to the burial +ground with the body every body in the whole procession would sing +hymns. I've heard 'em 'nough times clear 'cross the fields, singin' and +moanin' as they went. Dem days of real feelin' an' keerin' is gone." + +When freedom came there were sad times on the Sybert plantation, Arrie +said. "Old Miss cried and cried, and all us cried too. Old Miss said +'You'al jest goin' off to perish.' Aunt Jennie, one of the oldest women +slaves stayed on with her and took keer of her, but all us stayed on a +while. Us didn't know whar to go an' what ter do, an' den come Dr. +Peters and Mr. Allen frum Arkansas to git han's to go out dar an' work +fer dem. My Pa took his family and we stayed two years. It took us might +nigh ar whole week to git dar, we went part way on de train and den rid +de steam boat up de Mississippi River ter de landin'. We worked in the +cotton field out dar and done all kinds er work on de farm, but us +didn't like an' Dr. Peters an' Mr. Allen give my Pa money fer us ter +come home on. 'Fore we could git started my oldest brother wanted to +come home so bad he jest pitched out and walked all de way frum Arkansas +to our old home in Georgy. We come back by Memphis and den come on home +on de train. When we wuz out dar I went to school an' got as far as +'Baker'. Dat's de only schoolin' I ever had." + +Aunt Arrie told about her courtship and marriage, she remembers all +about it and grew rather sentimental and sad while she talked. She said +that Franklin Binns was going with her before she went to live in +Arkansas and when she came home he picked up the courtship where he had +left off when she went away. He would ride 20 miles on horseback to see +her. He brought her candy and nice things to eat, but she still wouldn't +"give him no satisfaction 'bout whether she keered fer him er not." She +said other men wanted to come to see her, but she paid them not one bit +of attention. "No mam, I wouldn't 'cept of them, I never did go with in +an' everybody, I don't do dat yit." She said one day Franklin was to see +her and said "Less us marry, I think 'nough of you to marry." She said +she wouldn't tell him nothin' so he went to see her parents and they +agreed, so she married him sometime later. They were married by a white +minister, Mr. Joe Carter. + +Aunt Arrie leads a lonely life now. She grieves for her loved ones more +than negroes usually do. She doesn't get about much, but "I does go over +to see Sis Lou (a neighbor) every now an' den fer consolation." She says +she is living on borrowed time because she has always taken care of +herself and worked and been honest. She said that now she is almost at +the close of her life waiting day by day for the call to come, she is +glad she knew slavery, glad she was reared by good white people who +taught her the right way to live, and she added: "Mistess, I'se so glad +I allus worked hard an' been honest--hit has sho paid me time an' time +agin." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +ExSlv. #7 +Driskell] + +HENRY BLAND--EX-SLAVE +[MAY -- --] + + +Henry Bland is one of the few living ex-slaves who was born on a +plantation near Edenton, Ga., in 1851. His parents were Martha and Sam +Coxton. In this family group were three other children, two girls and +one boy, who was the oldest. When questioned regarding the birthplace +and the movements of his parents, Mr. Bland stated that his father was +born in Hancock County, Ga. His mother along with her mother was brought +to Georgia by the speculator with a drove of other slaves. The first +thing that he remembers of his parents is when he was quite small and +was allowed to remain in the Master's kitchen in the "big house" where +his mother was cook. + +Mr. Coxton, who was the owner of Mr. Bland and his family, was described +as being very rich and influential man in the community where he lived. +Says Mr. Bland, "His only fault was that of drinking too much of the +whisky that he distilled on the plantation." Unlike some of the other +slave owners in that section, Mr. Coxton was very kind to his slaves. +His plantation was a large one and on it was raised cotton, corn, +cane[TR:?], vegetables, and live stock. More cotton was grown than +anything else. + +From the time he was 1 year and 6 months of age until he was 9 years old +he lived in the "big house" with his mother. At night he slept on the +floor there. In spite of this, his and his mother's treatment was +considerably better than that received by those slaves who worked in the +fields. While their food consisted of the same things as did that of the +field slaves, sometimes choice morsels came back to the kitchen from the +Master's table. He says that his mother's clothes were of better quality +than the other slave women (those who were not employed in the house). + +As a child his first job was to cut wood for the stove, pick up chips, +and to drive the cows to and from the pasture. When 9 years old he was +sent to the field as a plow boy. Here he worked with a large number of +other slaves (he does not know the exact number) who were divided into +two groups, the plow group and the hoe group. His father happened to be +the foreman of the hoe gang. His brothers and sisters also worked here +in the fields being required to hoe as well as plow. When picking time +came, everyone was required to pick. The usual amount of cotton each +person was required to pick was 200 lbs. per day. However, when this +amount was not picked by some they were not punished by the overseer, as +was the case on neighboring plantations, because Mr. Coxton realized +that some could do more work than others. Mr. Coxton often told his +overseer that he had not been hired to whip the slaves, but to teach +them how to work. + +Says Mr. Bland: "Our working hours were the same as on any other +plantation. We had to get up every morning before sun-up and when it was +good and light we were in the field. A bugle was blown to wake us." All +the slaves stayed in the field until dark. After leaving the field they +were never required to do any work but could spend their time as they +saw fit to. No work was required on Saturday or Sunday with the +exception that the stock had to be cared for. Besides those days when no +work was required, there was the 4th of July and Christmas on which the +slaves were permitted to do as they pleased. These two latter dates were +usually spent in true holiday spirit as the master usually gave a big +feast in the form of a barbecue and allowed them to invite their +friends. + +When darkness came they sang and danced and this was what they called a +"frolic." As a general rule this same thing was permitted after the +crops had been gathered. Music for these occasions was furnished by +violin, banjo and a clapping of hands. Mr. Bland says that he used to +help furnish this music as Mr. Coxton had bought him a violin. + +On the Coxton plantation all slaves always had a sufficient amount of +clothing. These clothes which were issued when needed and not at any +certain time included articles for Sunday wear as well as articles for +work. Those servants who worked in the "big house" wore practically the +same clothes as the master and his wife with the possible exception that +it met the qualification of being second-handed. An issue of work +clothing included a heavy pair of work shoes called brogans, homespun +shirts and a pair of jeans pants. A pair of knitted socks was also +included The women wore homespun dresses for their working clothes. For +Sunday wear the men were given white cotton shirts and the women white +cotton dresses. All clothing was made on the plantation by those women +who were too old for field work. + +In the same manner that clothing was sufficient, so was food plentiful. +At the end of each week each family was given 4 lbs. of meat, 1 peck of +meal, and some syrup. Each person in a family was allowed to raise a +garden and so they had vegetables whenever they wished to. In addition +to this they were allowed to raise chickens, to hunt and to fish. +However, none of the food that was secured in any of the ways mentioned +above could be sold. When anyone wished to hunt, Mr. Coxton supplied the +gun and the shot. + +Although the slaves cooked for themselves, their breakfast and dinner +were usually sent to them in the fields after it had been prepared in +the cook house. The reason for this was that they had to get up too soon +in the morning, and at noon too much time would be lost if they were +permitted to go to their cabins for lunch. + +The children who were too young to work in the field were cared for by +some old slave who likewise was unable to do field work. The children +were usually fed pot liquor, corn bread, milk, syrup, and vegetables. +Each one had his individual cup to eat from. The food on Sunday was +usually no different from that of any other day of the week. However, +Mr. Bland says that they never had to break in the smokehouse because of +hunger. + +When asked to describe the living quarters of the slaves on his +plantation he looked around his room and muttered: "Dey wuz a lot better +than dis one." Some of the cabins were made of logs and some of +weatherboards. The chinks in the walls were sealed with mud. In some +instances boards were used on the inside to keep the weather out. There +were usually two windows, shutters being used in the place of window +panes. The chimney and fireplace were made of mud and stones. All +cooking was done at the fireplace as none of them were provided with +stoves. Iron cooking utensils were used. To boil food a pot was hung +over the fire by means of a hook. The remaining furniture was a bench +which served as a chair, and a crude bed. Rope running from side to side +served as bed springs. The mattress was made of straw or hay. For +lighting purposes, pine knots and candles were used. The slaves on the +Coxton plantation were also fortunate in that all cabins had good +floors. All cabins and their furnishings were built by the slaves who +learned the use of hammer and saw from white artisans whom Mr. Coxton +employed from time to time. Mr. Bland remarked that his father was a +blacksmith, having learned the trade in this manner. + +A doctor was employed regularly by Mr. Coxton to minister to the needs +of the slaves in time of illness. "We also had our own medicine," says +Mr. Bland. At different times excursions were made to the woods where +"yarbs" (herbs) were gathered. Various kinds of teas and medicines were +made by boiling these roots in water. The usual causes of illness on +this plantation were colds, fevers, and constipation. Castor oil and +salts were also used to a great extent. If an individual was too ill to +work an older slave had to nurse this person. + +No effort was made by Mr. Coxton to teach his slaves anything except +manual training. A slave who could use his hands at skilled work was +more valuable than the ordinary field hand. If, however, a slave secured +a book, Mr. Coxton would help him learn to read it. Above all, religious +training was not denied. As a matter of fact, Mr. Coxton required each +one of his servants to dress in his Sunday clothes and to go to church +every Sunday. Services for all were held at the white church--the slaves +sitting on one side and the masters on the other. All preaching was done +by a white pastor. + +No promiscuous relationships were allowed. If a man wanted to marry he +merely pointed out the woman of his choice to the master. He in turn +called her and told her that such and such an individual wished her for +a wife. If she agreed they were pronounced man and wife and were +permitted to live together. + +The slaves on his plantation were great believers in roots and their +values in the use of conjuring people. + +Mr. Bland doesn't remember ever seeing anyone sold by Mr. Coxton, but he +heard that on other nearby plantations slaves were placed on an auction +block and sold like cattle. + +None of the slaves were ever whipped or beaten by Mr. Coxton or by +anyone else. If a rule was broken the offender was called before Mr. +Coxton where he was talked to. In some cases a whipping was promised and +that ended the matter. The "Paddie Rollers" whipped the slaves from +other plantations when they were caught off of their premises without a +"pass" but this was never the case when a slave belonging to Mr. Coxton +broke this rule. Mr. Bland remembers that once he and some of his fellow +slaves were away from home without a pass when they were seen by the +"Paddie Rollers" who started after them. When they were recognized as +belonging to Mr. Coxton one of them (Paddie Rollers) said: "Don't bother +them; that's them d---- 'free niggers'." The Paddie Rollers were not +allowed to come on the Coxton plantation to whip his slaves or any other +owner's slaves who happened to be visiting at the time. Mr. Coxton +required that they all be on the plantation by nightfall. + +(The above seems to be rather conclusive proof of Mr. Coxton's influence +in the community.) [TR: Parentheses added by hand.] + +Whenever a slave committed a crime against the State, his master usually +had to pay for the damage done or pay the slave's fine. It was then up +to him to see that the offender was punished. + +Mr. Coxton once saw him (Mr. Bland) beat another slave (who was a guest +at a frolic) when this visitor attempted to draw a pistol on him. Mr. +Bland was upheld in his action and told by Mr. Coxton that he had better +always fight back when anyone struck him, whether the person was white +or black. Further, if he (Mr. Coxton) heard of his not fighting back a +whipping would be in store for him. + +Mr. Coxton was different from some of the slave owners in that he gave +the head of each family spending money at Christmas time--the amount +varying with the size of the family. + +"When the Civil war was begun the master seemed to be worried all the +time" states Mr. Bland. "He was afraid that we would be freed and then +he would have to hire us to do his work." + +When asked to describe his feelings about the war and the possibility of +his being freed, Mr. Bland said that he had no particular feeling of +gladness at all. The outcome of the war did not interest him at all +because Mr. Coxton was such a good master he didn't care whether he was +freed or not. His fellow slaves felt the same way. + +When Sherman and the Yankees were marching through they took all of the +live stock but bothered nothing else. The buildings on the adjoining +plantation were all burned. A small skirmish took place about 2 miles +away from Mr. Coxton's plantation when the Yankees and Confederates met. +Mr. Coxton's two sons took part in the war. + +Mr. Bland was taken by Sherman's army to Savannah and then to Macon. He +says that he saw President Jeff Davis give up his sword to General +Sherman in surrender. + +After the war Mr. Coxton was still well off in spite of the fact that he +had lost quite a bit of money as a result of the war. He saved a great +deal of his cash by burying it when Sherman came through. The cattle +might have been saved if he (Mr. Bland) could have driven them into the +woods before he was seen by some of the soldiers. + +At the close of the war Mr. Coxton informed all the slaves that they +were free to go where they wished, but they all refused to leave. Most +of them died on the plantation. Mr. Bland says that when he became of +age his former master gave him a wagon, two mules, a horse and buggy and +ten pigs. + +Mr. Bland thinks that old age is a characteristic in his family. His +grandmother lived to be 115 years old and his mother 107 years old. +Although in his 80's, Mr. Bland is an almost perfect picture of health. +He thinks that he will live to become at least 100 years old because he +is going to continue to live as sane a life as he has in the past. + + + + +J.R. Jones + +RIAS BODY, Ex-Slave. +Place of birth: Harris County, near Waverly Hall, Georgia +Date of birth: April 9, 1846 +Present residence: 1419-24th Street, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: July 24, 1936 +[JUL 8, 1937] + + +Rias Body was born the slave property of Mr. Ben Body, a Harris County +planter. He states that he was about fifteen years old when the Civil +War started and, many years ago, his old time white folks told him that +April 9, 1846, was the date of his birth. + +The "patarolers," according to "Uncle" Rias, were always quite active in +ante-bellum days. The regular patrol consisted of six men who rode +nightly, different planters and overseers taking turns about to do +patrol duty in each militia district in the County. + +All slaves were required to procure passes from their owners or their +plantation overseers before they could go visiting or leave their home +premises. If the "patarolers" caught a "Nigger" without a pass, they +whipped him and sent him home. Sometimes, however, if the "Nigger" +didn't run and told a straight story, he was let off with a lecture and +a warning. Slave children, though early taught to make themselves +useful, had lots of time for playing and frolicking with the white +children. + +Rias was a great hand to go seining with a certain clique of white boys, +who always gave him a generous or better than equal share of the fish +caught. + +At Christmas, every slave on the Body plantation received a present. The +Negro children received candy, raisins and "nigger-toes", balls, +marbles, etc. + +As for food, the slaves had, with the exception of "fancy trimmins", +about the same food that the whites ate. No darky in Harris County that +he ever heard of ever went hungry or suffered for clothes until after +freedom. + +Every Saturday was a wash day. The clothes and bed linen of all Whites +and Blacks went into wash every Saturday. And "Niggers", whether they +liked it or not, had to "scrub" themselves every Saturday night. + +The usual laundry and toilet soap was a homemade lye product, some of it +a soft-solid, and some as liquid as water. The latter was stored in jugs +and demijohns. Either would "fetch the dirt, or take the hide off"; in +short, when applied "with rag and water, something had to come". + +Many of the Body slaves had wives and husbands living on other +plantations and belonging to other planters. As a courtesy to the +principals of such matrimonial alliances, their owners furnished the men +passes permitting them to visit their wives once or twice a week. +Children born to such unions were the property of the wife's owner; the +father's owner had no claim to them whatsoever. + +"Uncle" Rias used to frequently come to Columbus with his master before +the war, where he often saw "Niggers oxioned off" at the old slave mart +which was located at what is now 1225 Broadway. Negroes to be offered +for sale were driven to Columbus in droves--like cattle--by "Nawthon +speckulatahs". And prospective buyers would visit the "block" +accompanied by doctors, who would feel of, thump, and examine the +"Nigger" to see if sound. A young or middle-aged Negro man, specially or +even well trained in some trade or out-of-the-ordinary line of work, +often sold for from $2000.00 to $4000.00 in gold. Women and "runty +Nigger men" commanded a price of from $600.00 up, each. A good "breedin +oman", though, says "Uncle" Rias, would sometimes sell for as high as +$1200.00. + +Rias Body had twelve brothers, eight of whom were "big buck Niggers," +and older than himself. The planters and "patarolers" accorded these +"big Niggers" unusual privileges--to the end that he estimates that they +"wuz de daddies uv least a hunnert head o' chillun in Harris County +before de war broke out." Some of these children were "scattered" over a +wide area. + +Sin, according to Rias Body, who voices the sentiment of the great +majority of aged Negroes, is that, or everything, which one does and +says "not in the name of the Master". The holy command, "Whatever ye do, +do it in My name," is subjected to some very unorthodox interpretations +by many members of the colored race. Indeed, by their peculiar +interpretation of this command, it is established that "two clean sheets +can't smut", which means that a devout man and woman may indulge in the +primal passion without committing sin. + +The old man rather boasts of the fact that he received a number of +whippings when a slave: says he now knows that he deserved them, "an +thout 'em", he would have no doubt "been hung 'fore he wuz thutty years +ole." + +Among the very old slaves whom he knew as a boy were quite a few whom +the Negroes looked up to, respected, and feared as witches, wizzards, +and magic-workers. These either brought their "learnin" with them from +Africa or absorbed it from their immediate African forebears. Mentally, +these people wern't brilliant, but highly sensitized, and Rias gave "all +sich" as wide a berth as opportunity permitted him, though he knows "dat +dey had secret doins an carrying-ons". In truth, had the Southern Whites +not curbed the mumbo-jumboism of his people, he is of the opinion that +it would not now be safe to step "out his doe at night". + +Incidentally, Rias Body is more fond of rabbit than any other meat "in +de wurrul", and says that he could--if he were able to get them--eat +three rabbits a day, 365 days in the year, and two for breakfast on +Christmas morning. He also states that pork, though killed in the +hottest of July weather, will not spoil if it is packed down in shucked +corn-on-the-cob. This he learned in slavery days when, as a "run-away", +he "knocked a shoat in the head" one summer and tried it--proving it. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +JAMES BOLTON +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Federal Writers' Project +Residency 4 +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Miss Maude Barragan +Residency 13 +Augusta, Georgia + + +"It never was the same on our plantation atter we done laid Mistess +away," said James Bolton, 85 year old mulatto ex-slave. "I ain't never +forget when Mistess died--she had been so good to every nigger on our +plantation. When we got sick, Mistess allus had us tended to. The +niggers on our plantation all walked to church to hear her funeral +sermon and then walked to the graveyard to the buryin'." + +James, shrivelled and wrinkled, with his bright eyes taking in +everything on one of his rare visits to town, seemed glad of the chance +to talk about slavery days. He spoke of his owner as "my employer" and +hastily corrected himself by saying, "I means, my marster." + +"My employer, I means my marster, and my mistess, they was sho' all +right white folkses," he continued. "They lived in the big 'ouse. Hit +was all painted brown. I heard tell they was more'n 900 acres in our +plantation and lots of folkses lived on it. The biggest portion was +woods. My paw, he was name Whitfield Bolton and Liza Bolton was my maw. +Charlie, Edmund, Thomas and John Bolton was my brothers and I had one +sister, she was Rosa. We belonged to Marse Whitfield Bolton and we lived +on his plantation in Oglethorpe County near Lexington, not far from the +Wilkes County line. + +"We stayed in a one room log cabin with a dirt floor. A frame made +outen pine poles was fastened to the wall to hold up the mattresses. Our +mattresses was made outen cotton bagging stuffed with wheat straw. Our +kivers was quilts made outen old clothes. Slave 'omens too old to work +in the fields made the quilts. + +"Maw, she went up to the big house onc't a week to git the 'lowance or +vittles. They 'lowanced us a week's rations at a time. Hit were +generally hog meat, corn meal and sometimes a little flour. Maw, she +done our cookin' on the coals in the fireplace at our cabin. We had +plenty of 'possums and rabbits and fishes and sometimes we had wild +tukkeys and partidges. Slaves warn't spozen to go huntin' at night and +everybody know you can't ketch no 'possums 'ceppin' at night! Jus' the +same, we had plenty 'possums and nobody ax how we cotch 'em!" James +laughed and nodded. "Now, 'bout them rabbits! Slaves warn't 'lowed to +have no guns and no dogs of they own. All the dogs on our plantation +belonged to my employer--I means, to my marster, and he 'lowed us to use +his dogs to run down the rabbits. Nigger mens and boys 'ud go in crowds, +sometimes as many as twelve at one time, and a rabbit ain't got no +chance 'ginst a lot of niggers and dogs when they light out for to run +'im down! + +"What wild critters we wanted to eat and couldn't run down, we was right +smart 'bout ketchin' in traps. We cotch lots of wild tukkeys and +partidges in traps and nets. Long Crick runned through our plantation +and the river warn't no fur piece off. We sho' did ketch the fishes, +mostly cats, and perch and heaps and heaps of suckers. We cotch our +fishes mos'n generally with hook and line, but the carpenters on our +plantation knowed how to make basket traps that sho' nuff did lay in +the fishes! God only knows how long it's been since this old nigger +pulled a big shad out of the river. Ain't no shads been cotch in the +river round here in so long I disremembers when! + +"We didn' have no gardens of our own round our cabins. My employer--I +means, my marster--had one big gyarden for our whole plantation and all +his niggers had to work in it whensomever he wanted 'em to, then he give +'em all plenty good gyarden sass for theyselfs. They was collards and +cabbage and turnips and beets and english peas and beans and onions, and +they was allus some garlic for ailments. Garlic was mostly to cure wums +(worms). They roasted the garlic in the hot ashes and squez the juice +outen it and made the chilluns take it. Sometimes they made poultices +outen garlic for the pneumony. + +"We saved a heap of bark from wild cherry and poplar and black haw and +slippery ellum trees and we dried out mullein leaves. They was all mixed +and brewed to make bitters. Whensomever a nigger got sick, them bitters +was good for--well ma'am, they was good for what ailed 'em! We tuk 'em +for rheumatiz, for fever, and for the misery in the stummick and for +most all sorts of sickness. Red oak bark tea was good for sore throat. + +"I never seed no store bought clothes twel long atter freedom done come! +One slave 'oman done all the weavin' in a separate room called the 'loom +house.' The cloth was dyed with home-made coloring. They used indigo for +blue, red oak bark for brown, green husks offen warnicks (walnuts) for +black, and sumacs for red and they'd mix these colors to make other +colors. Other slave 'omans larned to sew and they made all the clothes. +Endurin' the summertime we jus' wore shirts and pants made outen plain +cotton cloth. They wove wool in with the cotton to make the cloth for +our winter clothes. The wool was raised right thar on our plantation. We +had our own shoemaker man--he was a slave named Buck Bolton and he made +all the shoes the niggers on our plantation wore. + +"I waren't nothin' but chillun when freedom come. In slavery-time +chilluns waren't 'lowed to do no wuk kazen the marsters wanted they +niggers to grow up big and strong and didn' want 'em stunted none. Tha's +howcome I didn' git no mo' beatin's than I did! My employer--I means, my +marster, never did give me but one lickin'. He had done told me to watch +the cows and keep 'em in the pastur'. I cotch lots of grasshoppers and +started fishin' in the crick runnin' through the pastur' and fust thing +I knowed, the overseer was roundin' up all the other niggers to git the +cows outen the cornfields! I knowed then my time had done come!" + +James was enjoying the spotlight now, and his audience did not have to +prompt him. Plantation recollections crowded together in his old mind. + +"We had one overseer at a time," he said, "and he allus lived at the big +'ouse. The overseers warn't quality white folkses like our marster and +mistess but we never heard nuffin' 'bout no poor white trash in them +days, and effen we had heard sumpin' like that we'd have knowed better'n +to let Marster hear us make such talk! Marster made us call his overseer +'Mister.' We had one overseer named Mr. Andrew Smith and another time +we had a overseer named Mr. Pope Short. Overseers was jus' there on the +business of gettin' the work done--they seed atter everybody doin' his +wuk 'cordin' to order. + +"My employer--I means, my marster, never 'lowed no overseer to whup none +of his niggers! Marster done all the whuppin' on our plantation hisself. +He never did make no big bruises and he never drawed no blood, but he +sho' could burn 'em up with that lash! Niggers on our plantation was +whupped for laziness mostly. Next to that, whuppings was for stealin' +eggs and chickens. They fed us good and plenty but a nigger is jus' +bound to pick up chickens and eggs effen he kin, no matter how much he +done eat! He jus' can't help it. Effen a nigger ain't busy he gwine to +git into mischief! + +"Now and then slaves 'ud run away and go in the woods and dig dens and +live in 'em. Sometimes they runned away on 'count of cruel treatment, +but most of the time they runned away kazen they jus' didn't want to +wuk, and wanted to laze around for a spell. The marsters allus put the +dogs atter 'em and git 'em back. They had black and brown dogs called +'nigger hounds' what waren't used for nothin' but to track down niggers. + +"They waren't no such place as a jail whar we was. Effen a nigger done +sumpin' disorderly they jus' natcherly tuk a lash to 'im. I ain't never +seed no nigger in chains twel long atter freedom done come when I seed +'em on the chain gangs. + +"The overseer woke us up at sunrise--leas'n they called it sunrise! We +would finish our vittles and be in the fields ready for wuk befo' we +seed any sun! We laid off wuk at sunset and they didn't drive us hard. +Leas'wise, they didn' on our plantation. I done heard they was moughty +hard on 'em on other plantations. My marster never did 'low his niggers +to wuk atter sundown. My employer, I means my marster, didn't have no +bell. He had 'em blow bugles to wake up his hands and to call 'em from +the fields. Sometimes the overseer blowed it. Mistess done larned the +cook to count the clock, but none of the rest of our niggers could count +the clock. + +"I never knowed Marster to sell but one slave and he jus' had bought her +from the market at New Orleans. She say it lonesome off on the +plantation and axed Marster for to sell her to folkses livin' in town. +Atter he done sold her, every time he got to town she beg 'im to buy her +back! But he didn' pay her no more 'tention. When they had sales of +slaves on the plantations they let everybody know what time the sale +gwine to be. When the crowd git togedder they put the niggers on the +block and sell 'em. Leas'wise, they call it 'puttin' on the block'--they +jus' fotch 'em out and show 'em and sell 'em. + +"They waren't no church for niggers on our plantation and we went to +white folkses church and listened to the white preachers. We set behind +a partition. Sometimes on a plantation a nigger claim he done been +called to preach and effen he kin git his marster's cawn-sent he kin +preach round under trees and in cabins when t'aint wuk time. These +nigger preachers in slavery time was called 'chairbackers.' They waren't +no chairbackers 'lowed to baptize none of Marster's niggers. White +preachers done our baptizin' in Long Crick. When we went to be baptized +they allus sang, 'Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound!'" + +The old negro's quavery voice rose in the familiar song. For a moment he +sat thinking of those long-ago Sundays. His eyes brightened again, and +he went on: + +"We never done no wuk on Sundays on our plantation. The church was 'bout +nine miles from the plantation and we all walked there. Anybody too old +and feeble to walk the nine miles jus' stayed home, kazen Marster didn't +'low his mules used none on Sunday. All along the way niggers from other +plantations 'ud jine us and sometimes befo' we git to the church house +they'd be forty or fifty slaves comin' along the road in a crowd! +Preaching generally lasted twel bout three o'clock. In summertime we had +dinner on the ground at the church. Howsomever we didn' have no barbecue +like they does now. Everybody cooked enough on Sadday and fotched it in +baskets. + +"I was thirty years old when I jined the church. Nobody ought to jine no +church twels't he is truly borned of God, and effen he is truly borned +of God he gwine know it. Effen you want a restin' place atter you leaves +this old world you ought to git ready for it now! + +"When folkses on our plantation died Marster allus let many of us as +wanted to go, lay offen wuk twel atter the buryin'. Sometimes it were +two or three months atter the buryin' befo' the funeral sermon was +preached. Right now I can't rekelleck no song we sung at funerals cep'n +'Hark from the tombs a doleful sound.'" + +The reedy old voice carried the funeral hymn for a few minutes and then +trailed off. James was thinking back into the past again. + +"Spring plowin' and hoein' times we wukked all day Saddays, but mos'en +generally we laid off wuk at twelve o'clock Sadday. That was dinnertime. +Sadday nights we played and danced. Sometimes in the cabins, sometimes +in the yards. Effen we didn' have a big stack of fat kindling wood lit +up to dance by, sometimes the mens and 'omans would carry torches of +kindling wood whils't they danced and it sho' was a sight to see! We +danced the 'Turkey Trot' and 'Buzzard Lope', and how we did love to +dance the 'Mary Jane!' We would git in a ring and when the music started +we would begin wukkin' our footses while we sang 'You steal my true love +and I steal your'n!' + +"Atter supper we used to gether round and knock tin buckets and pans, we +beat 'em like drums. Some used they fingers and some used sticks for to +make the drum sounds and somebody allus blowed on quills. Quills was a +row of whistles made outen reeds, or sometimes they made 'em outen bark. +Every whistle in the row was a different tone and you could play any +kind of tune you wants effen you had a good row of quills. They sho' did +sound sweet! + +"'Bout the most fun we had was at corn shuckin's whar they put the corn +in long piles and called in the folkses from the plantations nigh round +to shuck it. Sometimes four or five hunnert head of niggers 'ud be +shuckin' corn at one time. When the corn all done been shucked they'd +drink the likker the marsters give 'em and then frolic and dance from +sundown to sunup. We started shuckin' corn 'bout dinnertime and tried to +finish by sundown so we could have the whole night for frolic. Some +years we 'ud go to ten or twelve corn shuckin's in one year! + +"We would sing and pray Easter Sunday and on Easter Monday we frolicked +and danced all day long! Christmas we allus had plenty good sumpin' to +eat and we all got togedder and had lots of fun. We runned up to the big +'ouse early Christmas mornin' and holler out: 'Mornin', Christmas Gif'!' +Then they'd give us plenty of Sandy Claus and we would go back to our +cabins to have fun twel New Year's day. We knowed Christmas was over and +gone when New Year's day come, kazen we got back to wuk that day atter +frolickin' all Christmas week. + +"We didn' know nuttin' 'bout games to play. We played with the white +folkses chilluns and watched atter 'em but most of the time we played in +the crick what runned through the pastur'. Nigger chilluns was allus +skeered to go in the woods atter dark. Folkses done told us +Raw-Head-and-Bloody Bones lived in the woods and git little chilluns and +eat 'em up effen they got out in the woods atter dark! + +"'Rockabye baby in the tree trops' was the onliest song I heard my maw +sing to git her babies to sleep. Slave folkses sung most all the time +but we didn' think of what we sang much. We jus' got happy and started +singin'. Sometimes we 'ud sing effen we felt sad and lowdown, but soon +as we could, we 'ud go off whar we could go to sleep and forgit all +'bout trouble!" James nodded his gray head with a wise look in his +bright eyes. "When you hear a nigger singin' sad songs hit's jus' kazen +he can't stop what he is doin' long enough to go to sleep!" + +The laughter that greeted this sally brought an answering grin to the +wrinkled old face. Asked about marriage customs, James said: + +"Folkses didn' make no big to-do over weddings like they do now. When +slaves got married they jus' laid down the broom on the floor and the +couple jined hands and jumped back-uds over the broomstick. I done seed +'em married that way many a time. Sometimes my marster would fetch +Mistess down to the slave quarters to see a weddin'. Effen the slaves +gittin' married was house servants, sometimes they married on the back +porch or in the back yard at the big 'ouse but plantation niggers what +was field hands married in they own cabins. The bride and groom jus' +wore plain clothes kazen they didn' have no more. + +"When the young marsters and mistesses at the big houses got married +they 'lowed the slaves to gadder on the porch and peep through the +windows at the weddin'. Mos'en generally they 'ud give the young couple +a slave or two to take with them to they new home. My marster's chilluns +was too young to git married befo' the war was over. They was seven of +them chilluns; four of 'em was gals. + +"What sort of tales did they tell 'mongs't the slaves 'bout the Norf +befo' the war? To tell the troof, they didn't talk much like they does +now 'bout them sort of things. None of our niggers ever runned away and +we didn' know nuthin' 'bout no Norf twel long atter freedom come. We +visited round each other's cabins at night. I did hear tell 'bout the +patterollers. Folkses said effen they cotched niggers out at night they +'ud give 'em 'what Paddy give the drum'. + +"Jus' befo' freedom comed 'bout 50 Yankee sojers come through our +plantation and told us that the bull-whups and cow-hides was all dead +and buried. Them sojers jus' passed on in a hurry and didn' stop for a +meal or vittles or nuffin'. We didn't talk much 'bout Mr. Abbieham +Lincum endurin' slavery time kazen we was skeered of him atter the war +got started. I don't know nothin' 'bout Mr. Jef'son Davis, I don't +remember ever hearin' 'bout him. I is heard about Mr. Booker Washin'ton +and they do say he runned a moughty good school for niggers. + +"One mornin' Marster blowed the bugle his own self and called us all up +to the big 'ouse yard. He told us: 'You all jus' as free as I is. You +are free from under the taskmarster but you ain't free from labor. You +gotter labor and wuk hard effen you aims to live and eet and have +clothes to wear. You kin stay here and wuk for me, or you kin go +wharsomever you please.' He said he 'ud pay us what was right, and Lady, +hit's the troof, they didn't nary a nigger on our plantation leave our +marster then! I wukked on with Marster for 40 years atter the war!" + +James had no fear of the Ku Klux. + +"Right soon atter the war we saw plenty of Ku Kluxers but they never +bothered nobody on our plantation. They allus seemed to be havin' heaps +of fun. 'Course, they did have to straighten out some of them brash +young nigger bucks on some of the other farms round about. Mos' of the +niggers the Ku Kluxers got atter was'n on no farm, but was jus' roamin' +'round talkin' too much and makin' trouble. They had to take 'em in hand +two or three times befo' some of them fool free niggers could be larned +to behave theyselfs! But them Ku Kluxers kept on atter 'em twels't they +larned they jus got to be good effen they 'spects to stay round here. + +"Hit was about 40 years atter the war befo' many niggers 'gun to own +they own lan'. They didn' know nothin' 'bout tendin' to money business +when the war done ended and it take 'em a long time to larn how to buy +and sell and take care of what they makes." James shook his head sadly. +"Ma'am, heaps of niggers ain't never larned nothin' 'bout them things +yit! + +"A long time atter the war I married Lizy Yerby. I didn' give Liza no +chanc't for to dress up. Jus' went and tuk her right outer the white +folkses' kitchen and married her at the church in her workin' clothes. +We had 13 chilluns but they ain't but two of 'em livin' now. Mos' of our +chilluns died babies. Endurin' slavery Mistess tuk care of all the +nigger babies borned on our plantations and looked atter they mammies +too, but atter freedom come heap of nigger babies died out." + +James said he had two wives, both widows. + +"I married my second wife 37 years ago. To tell the troof, I don't +rightly know how many grandchilluns I got, kazen I ain't seed some of +'em for thirty years. My chilluns is off fum here and I wouldn' know to +save my life whar they is or what they does. My sister and brothers they +is done dead out what ain't gone off, I don't know for sho' whar none of +'em is now." + +A sigh punctuated James' monologue, and his old face was shadowed by a +look of fear. + +"Now I gwine tell you the troof. Now that it's all over I don't find +life so good in my old age, as it was in slavery time when I was chillun +down on Marster's plantation. Then I didn' have to worry 'bout whar my +clothes and my somepin' to eat was comin' from or whar I was gwine to +sleep. Marster tuk keer of all that. Now I ain't able for to wuk and +make a livin' and hit's sho' moughty hard on this old nigger." + + + + +ALEC BOSTWICK +Ex-Slave--Age 76 + +[TR: Preceding page that would usually contain information regarding the +interview was marked 'Placeholder'.] + + +All of Uncle Alec Bostwick's people are dead and he lives in his tiny +home with a young Negress named Emma Vergal. It was a beautiful April +morning when his visitor arrived and while he was cordial enough he +seemed very reluctant about talking. However, as one question followed +another his interest gradually overcame his hesitancy and he began to +unfold his life's story. + +"I wuz born in Morgan County, an' I warn't mo' dan four year old when de +War ended so I don't ricollect nothin' 'bout slav'ry days. I don't know +much 'bout my ma, but her name was Martha an' pa's name was Jordan +Bostwick, I don't know whar dey come from. When I knowed nothin' I wuz +dar on de plantation. I had three brothers; George, John an' Reeje, an' +dey's all dead. I dis'members my sister's name. Dar warn't but one gal +an' she died when she wuz little. + +"Ain't much to tell 'bout what wuz done in de quarters. Slaves wuz +gyarded all de time jus' lak Niggers on de chain gang now. De overseer +always sot by wid a gun. + +"'Bout de beds, Nigger boys didn't pay no 'tention to sich as dat 'cause +all dey keered 'bout wuz a place to sleep but 'peers lak to me dey wuz +corded beds, made wid four high posties, put together wid iron pegs, an' +holes what you run de cords thoo', bored in de sides. De cords wuz made +out of b'ar grass woun' tight together. Dey put straw an' old quilts on +'em, an' called 'em beds. + +"Gran'pa Berry wuz too old to wuk in de field so he stayed 'roun' de +house an' piddled. He cut up wood, tended to de gyarden an' yard, an' +bottomed chairs. Gran'ma Liza done de cookin' an' nussed de white +folkses chilluns. + +"I wukked in de field 'long side da rest of de Niggers, totin' water an' +sich lak, wid de overseer dar all de time wid dat gun. + +"What you talkin' 'bout Miss? Us didn't have no money. Sho' us didn't. +Dey had to feed us an' plenty of it, 'cause us couldn't wuk if dey +didn't feed us good. + +"Us et cornbread, sweet 'tatoes, peas, home-made syrup an' sich lak. De +meat wuz fried sometimes, but mos' of de time it wuz biled wid de +greens. All de somethin' t'eat wuz cooked in de fireplace. Dey didn't +know what stoves wuz in dem days. Yes Ma'am, us went 'possum huntin' at +night, an' us had plenty 'possums too. Dey put sweet 'tatoes an' fat +meat roun' 'em, an' baked 'em in a oven what had eyes on each side of it +to put hooks in to take it off de fire wid. + +"No Ma'am, us didn't go fishin', or rabbit huntin' nuther. Us had to wuk +an' warn't no Nigger 'lowed to do no frolickin' lak dat in daytime. De +white folkses done all de fishin' an' daytime huntin'. I don't 'member +lakin' no sartin' somethin'. I wuz jus' too glad to git anythin'. Slaves +didn't have no gyardens of dey own. Old Marster had one big gyarden what +all de slaves et out of. + +"Tell you 'bout our clo'es: us wore home-made clo'es, pants an' shirts +made out of cotton in summer an' in de winter dey give us mo' home-made +clo'es only dey wuz made of wool. All de clawf wuz made on de loom right +dar on de plantation. Us wore de same things on Sunday what us did in de +week, no diffunt. Our shoes wuz jus' common brogans what dey made at +home. I ain't seed no socks 'til long atter de War. Co'se some folkses +mought a had 'em, but us didn't have none. + +"Marster Berry Bostwick an' Mist'ess Mary Bostwick, had a passel of +chillun, I don't 'member none 'cept young Marse John. De others drifted +off an' didn't come back, but young Marse John stayed on wid Old Marster +an' Old Mist'ess 'til dey died. Old Marster, he warn't good. Truth is de +light, an' he wuz one mean white man. Old Mist'ess wuz heaps better dan +him. Dar wuz 'bout 150 mens an' 75 'omans. I couldn't keep up wid de +chilluns. Dere wuz too many for me. + +"Marster an' Mist'ess lived in a big fine house, but de slave quarters +wuz made of logs, 'bout de size of box cyars wid two rooms. + +"'Bout dat overseer he wuz a mean man, if one ever lived. He got de +slaves up wid a gun at five o'clock an' wukked 'em 'til way atter +sundown, standin' right over 'em wid a gun all de time. If a Nigger +lagged or tuk his eyes off his wuk, right den an' dar he would make him +strip down his clo'es to his waist, an' he whup him wid a cat-o-nine +tails. Evvy lick dey struck him meant he wuz hit nine times, an' it +fotch da red evvy time it struck. + +"Oh! Yes Ma'am, dey had a cyar'iage driver, he didn't do much 'cept look +attar de hawses an' drive de white folkses 'roun'. + +"I done tole you 'bout dat overseer; all he done wuz sot 'roun' all day +wid a gun an' make de Niggers wuk. But I'se gwine tell you de trufe, he +sho' wuz poor white trash wid a house full of snotty-nose chilluns. Old +Marster tole him he wuz jus' lak a rabbit, he had so many chillun. I +means dis; if dem days comes back I hope de good Lord takes me fus'. + +"Dey had a house whar dey put de Niggers, what wuz called de gyard +house, an' us didn't know nothin' 'bout no jail dat day an' time. I seed +'em drive de Niggers by old Marster's place in droves takin' 'em to +Watkinsville. Morgan County, whar us lived, touched Oconee an' dat wuz +the nighes' town. One day I went wid old Marster to Watkinsville an' I +seed 'em sell Niggers on de block. I warn't sold. When I knowed nothin' +I wuz right whar I wuz at. + +"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for de Niggers in dem days. If a Nigger +wuz seed wid a paper, de white folks would pretty nigh knock his head +off him. + +"Us didn't have no church in de country for Niggers, an' dey went to +church wid deir white folkses, if dey went a tall. De white folks sot in +front, an' de Niggers sot in de back. All de time dat overseer wuz right +dar wid his gun. When dey baptized de Niggers dey tuk 'em down to de +river and plunged 'em in, while dem what had done been baptized sang: +"Dar's a Love Feast in Heb'en Today." + +"Yes Ma'am, de white folkses had deir cemetery, an' dey had one for de +slaves. When dere wuz a funeral 'mong de Niggers us sung: + + 'Dark was de night + And cold was de groun' + Whar my Marster was laid + De drops of sweat + Lak blood run down + In agony He prayed.' + +"Dem coffins sho' wuz mournful lookin' things, made out of pine boa'ds +an' painted wid lampblack; dey wuz black as de night. Dey wuz big at de +head an' little at de foot, sort a lak airplanes is. De inside wuz lined +wid white clawf, what dey spun on de plantation. + +"De patterollers wuz right on dey job. Slaves use' to frame up on 'em if +dey knowed whar dey wuz hidin', 'waitin' to cotch a Nigger. Dey would +git hot ashes an' dash over 'em, an' dem patterollers dey sho' would +run, but de slaves would git worse dan dat, if dey was cotched. + +"Miss, in slav'ry time when Niggers come from de fields at night dey +warn't no frolickin'. Dey jus' went to sleep. De mens wukked all day +Sadday, but de 'omans knocked off at twelve o'clock to wash an' sich +lak. + +"Christmas times dey give us a week off an' brung us a little candy an' +stuff 'roun'. Not much, not much. On New Year's Day us had to git back +on de job. + +"Chilluns what wuz big enough to wuk didn't have time in week days to +play no games on Marse Bostwick's place. On Sunday us played wid marbles +made out of clay, but dat's all. I heered my ma sing a little song to de +baby what soun' lak dis: + + 'Hush little baby + Don't you cry + You'll be an angel + Bye-an'-bye.' + +"Yes Ma'am, dere wuz one thing dey wuz good 'bout. When de Niggers got +sick dey sont for de doctor. I heered 'em say dey biled jimson weeds an' +made tea for colds, an' rhubarb tea wuz to cure worms in chillun. I wuz +too young to be bothered 'bout witches an' charms, Rawhead an' Bloody +Bones an' sich. I didn't take it in. + +"When de Yankees come thoo' an' 'lowed us wuz free, us thought dey wuz +jus' dem patterollers, an' us made for de woods. Dey tole us to come +out, dat us wuz free Niggers. Marster Berry said: 'You dam Niggers am +free. You don't b'long to me no more.' + +"Us married long time atter de War, an' us had a little feast: cake, +wine, fried chicken, an' ham, an' danced 'til 'mos' daybreak. I 'members +how good she looked wid dat pretty dove colored dress, all trimmed wid +lace. Us didn't have no chillun. She wuz lak a tree what's sposen to +bear fruit an' don't. She died 'bout thirteen years ago. + +"When de Ku Kluxers come thoo', us chillun thought de devil wuz atter us +for sho'. I wuz sich a young chap I didn't take in what dey said 'bout +Mr. Abyham Lincoln, an' Mr. Jeff Davis. Us would a been slaves 'til yit, +if Mr. Lincoln hadn't sot us free. Dey wuz bofe of 'em, good mens. I +sho' had ruther be free. Who wants a gun over 'em lak a prisoner? A +pusson is better off dead. + +"I jined de church 'cause dis is a bad place at de bes' an' dere's so +many mean folkses, what's out to seem good an' ain't. An' if you serve +God in de right way, I'se sho' when you die he'll give you a place to +rest for evermore. An' 'cordin' to my notion dat's de way evvybody +oughta live." + +In conclusion, Alec said: "I don't want to talk no more. I'se +disappointed, I thought sho' you wuz one of dem pension ladies what come +for to fetch me some money. I sho' wish dey would come. Good-bye Miss." +Then he hobbled into the house. + + + + +Barragan-Harris +[TR: Miss Maude Barragan (interviewer), Mrs. Leila Harris (editor)] + +NANCY BOUDRY, THOMSON, GEORGIA + + +"If I ain't a hunnard," said Nancy, nodding her white-turbaned head, "I +sho' is close to it, 'cause I got a grandson 50 years old." + +Nancy's silky white hair showed long and wavy under her headband. Her +gingham dress was clean, and her wrinkled skin was a reddish-yellow +color, showing a large proportion of Indian and white blood. Har eyes +ware a faded blue. + +"I speck I is mos' white," acknowledged Nancy, "but I ain't never knowed +who my father was. My mother was a dark color." + +The cottage faced the pine grove behind an old church. Pink ramblers +grew everywhere, and the sandy yard was neatly kept. Nancy's paralyzed +granddaughter-in-law hovered in the doorway, her long smooth braids +hanging over Indian-brown shoulders, a loose wrapper of dark blue denim +flowing around her tall unsteady figure. She was eager to taka part in +the conversation but hampered by a thick tongue induced, as Nancy put +it, "by a bad sore throat she ain't got over." + +Nancy's recollections of plantation days were colored to a somber hue by +overwork, childbearing, poor food and long working hours. + +"Master was a hard taskmaster," said Nancy. "My husband didn't live on +de same plantation where I was, de Jerrell places in Columbia County. He +never did have nuthin' to give me 'cause he never got nuthin'. He had to +come and ask my white folks for me. Dey had to carry passes everywhere +dey went, if dey didn't, dey'd git in trouble. + +"I had to work hard, plow and go and split wood jus' like a man. +Sometimes dey whup me. Dey whup me bad, pull de cloes off down to de +wais'--my master did it, our folks didn' have overseer. + +"We had to ask 'em to let us go to ohurch. Went to white folks church, +'tell de black folks get one of dere own. No'm I dunno how to read. +Never had no schools at all, didn' 'low us to pick up a piece paper and +look at it." + +"Nancy, wasn't your mistress kind to you?" + +"Mistis was sorta kin' to me, sometimes. But dey only give me meat and +bread, didn' give me nothin' good--I ain' gwine tell no story. I had a +heap to undergo wid. I had to scour at night at de Big House--two planks +one night, two more de nex'. De women peoples spun at night and reeled, +so many cuts a night. Us had to git up befo' daybreak be ready to go to +de fiel's. + +"My master didn' have but three cullud people, dis yuh was what I stayed +wid, my young master, had not been long married and dus' de han's dey +give him when he marry was all he had. + +"Didn' have no such house as dis," Nancy looked into the open door of +the comfortable octtage, "sometimes dey have a house built, it would be +daubed. Dus' one family, didn' no two families double up." + +"But the children had a good time, didn't they? They played games?" + +"Maybe dey did play ring games, I never had no time to see what games my +chillus play, I work so hard. Heap o' little chillun slep' on de flo'. +Never had no frolics neither, no ma'm, and didn' go to none. We would +have prayer meetings on Saturday nights, and one might in de week us had +a chairback preacher, and sometimes a regular preacher would come in." + +Nancy did not remember ever having seen the Patterollers. + +"I hearn talk of 'em you know, heap o' times dey come out and make out +like dey gwine shoot you at night, dey mus' been Patterollers, dey was +gettin' hold of a heap of 'em." + +"What did you do about funerals, Nancy?" + +"Dey let us knock off for funerals, I tell de truth. Us stay up all +night, singin' and prayin'. Dey make de coffin outter pine boards." + +"Did you suffer during the war?" + +"We done de bes' we could, we et what we could get, sometimes didn' have +nothin' to eat but piece of cornbread, but de white folks allus had +chicken." + +"But you had clothes to wear?" + +"Us had clothes 'cause we spun de thread and weaved 'em. Dey bought dem +dere great big ole brogans where you couldn' hardly walk in 'em. Not +like dese shoes I got on." Nancy thrust out her foot, easy in "Old +Ladies' Comforts." + +"When they told you were free, Nancy, did the master appear to be +angry?" + +"No'm, white folks didn' 'pear to be mad. My master dus' tole us we was +free. Us moved right off, but not so far I couldn' go backwards and +forwards to see 'um." (So it was evident that even if Nancy's life had +been hard, there was a bond between her and her former owners.) "I didn' +do no mo' work for 'um, I work for somebody else. Us rented land and +made what we could, so we could have little somethin' to eat. I scoured +and waited on white people in town, got little piece of money, and was +dus' as proud!" + +Nancy savored the recollection of her first earned money a moment, +thinking back to the old days. + +"I had a preacher for my second marriage," she continued, "Fo' chillun +died on me--one girl, de yuthers was babies. White doctor tended me." + +Asked about midwifery, Nancy smiled. + +"I was a midwife myself, to black and white, after freedom. De Thomson +doctors all liked me and tole people to 'git Nancy.' I used 'tansy +tea'--heap o' little root--made black pepper tea, fotch de pains on 'em. +When I would git to de place where I had a hard case, I would send for +de doctor, and he would help me out, yes, doctor help me out of all of +'em." + +Asked about signs and superstitions, Nancy nodded. + +"I have seed things. Day look dus' like a person, walkin' in de woods. I +would look off and look back to see it again and it be gone." Nancy +lowered her voice mysteriously, and looked back into the little room +where Vanna's unsteady figure moved from bed to chair. "I seed a coffin +floatin' in de air in dat room--" she shivered, "and I heard a heap o' +knockings. I dunno what it bees--but de sounds come in de house. I runs +ev'y squeech owl away what comes close, too." Nancy clasped her hands, +right thumb over left thumb, "does dat--and it goes on away--dey quits +hollerin', you chokin' 'em when you does dat." + +"Do you plant by the moon, Nancy?" + +"Plant when de moon change, my garden, corn, beans. I planted some beans +once on de wrong time of de moon and dey didn' bear nothing--I hated it +so bad, I didn' know what to do, so I been mindful ever since when I +plant. Women peoples come down on de moon, too. I ain't know no signs to +raise chillun. I whup mine when dey didn' do right, I sho' did. I didn' +'low my chillun to take nothin'--no aigs and nothin' 'tall and bring 'em +to my house. I say 'put dem right whar you git 'em." + +"Did you sing spirituals, Nancy?" + +"I sang regular meetin' songs," she said, "like 'lay dis body down' and +'let yo' joys be known'--but I can't sing now, not any mo'." + +Nancy was proud of her quilt-making ability. + +"Git 'um, Vanna, let de ladies see 'um," she said; and when Vanna +brought the gay pieces made up in a "double-burst" (sunburst) pattern, +Nancy fingered the squares with loving fingers. "Hit's pooty, ain't it?" +she asked wistfully, "I made one for a white lady two years ago, but dey +hurts my fingers now--makes 'em stiff." + + + + +FOLKLORE INTERVIEW + +ALICE BRADLEY +Hull Street near Corner of Hoyt Street +Athens, Georgia + +KIZZIE COLQUITT +243 Macon Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Grace McCune +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Mrs. Leila Harris +Editor +Federal Writers' Project +Augusta, Georgia +[APR 20 1938] + +[TR: These two interviews were filed together, though not recorded at +the same place or time.] + + +Alice Bradley + +Alice Bradley, or "Aunt Alice" as she is known to everybody, "runs +cards" and claims to be a seeress. Apologetic and embarrassed because +she had overslept and was straightening her room, she explained that she +hadn't slept well because a dog had howled all night and she was uneasy +because of this certain forerunner of disaster. + +"Here t'is Sunday mornin' and what wid my back, de dog, and de +rheumatics in my feets, its [TR: 'done' crossed out] too late to go to +church, so come in honey I'se glad to hab somebody to talk to. Dere is +sho' goin' to be a corpse close 'round here. One night a long time ago +two dogs howled all night long and on de nex' Sunday dere wuz two +corpses in de church at de same time. Dat's one sign dat neber fails, +when a dog howls dat certain way somebody is sho' goin' to be daid." + +When asked what her full name was, she said: "My whole name is Alice +Bradley now. I used to be a Hill, but when I married dat th'owed me out +of bein' a Hill, so I'se jus' a Bradley now. I wuz born on January 14th +but I don't 'member what year. My ma had three chillun durin' de war and +one jus' atter de war. I think dat las' one wuz me, but I ain't sho'. My +pa's name wuz Jim Hill, and ma's name wuz Ca'line Hill. Both of 'em is +daid now. Pa died October 12, 1896 and wuz 88 years old. Ma died +November 20, 1900; she wuz 80 years old. I knows dem years is right +'cause I got 'em from dat old fambly Bible so I kin git 'em jus' right. +One of my sisters, older dan I is, stays in Atlanta wid her son. Since +she los' one of her sons, her mind's done gone. My other sister ain't as +old as I is but her mind is all right and she is well." + +"I wuz raised in Washin'ton, Wilkes County, and de fust I 'members was +stayin' wid Miss Alice Rayle. She had three chillun and I nussed 'em. +One of de boys is a doctor now, and has a fambly of his own, and de las' +I heared of 'im, he wuz stayin' in Atlanta. + +"I'se been married' two times. I runned away wid Will Grisham, when I +wuz 'bout 14 years old. Mr. Carter, a Justice of de Peace, met us under +a 'simmon tree and tied de knot right dar. My folks ketched us, but us +wuz already married and so it didn't make no diffunce. + +"I lived on a farm wid my fust husband, and us had three chillun, but +dey is all gone now. I 'members when my oldes' gal wuz 'bout 2 years +old, dey wuz playin' out on de porch wid dey little dog, when a mad dog +come by and bit my chillun's dog. Folks kilt our dog, and jus' 'bout one +week atterwards my little gal wuz daid too. She did love dat little dog, +and he sho' did mind 'er. She jus' grieved herself to death 'bout dat +dog. + +"Atter my fust husband died, I married Rich Bradley. Rich wuz a railroad +man, and he went off to Washin'ton, D.C., to wuk. He sont me money all +de time den, but when he went from dar to Shecargo to wuk I didn't hear +from 'im long, and I don't know what's happened to 'im 'til now, for +it's been a long time since I heared from 'im. + +"I loves to run de cyards for my friends. I always tells 'em when I sees +dere's trouble in de cyards for 'em, and shows 'em how to git 'round it, +if I kin. None of de res' of my folks ever run de cyards, but I'se been +at it ever since I wuz jus' a little gal, pickin' up old wore out +cyards, dat had bean th'owed away, 'cause I could see things in 'em. I +'members one time when I wuz small and didn't know so good what de +cyards wuz tellin' me, dat a rich man, one of de riches' in Wilkes +County, wuz at our place, I tol 'im de cyards when I run 'em. I saw +sompin' wuz goin' to happen on his place, dat two colored mens would be +tangled up wid, but I didn't know jus' what wuz goin' to happen. And +sho' 'nuff, two colored mens sot fire to his barns and burned up all his +horses and mules, de onlies' thing dey saved wuz one ridin' horse. Dey +ketched de mens, and dey served time for what dey done. One of 'em died +way out yonder where dey sont 'em. + +"I 'members one white lady way out in Alabama sont a note axin' me to +run de cyards for her. I runned 'em and got one of my friends to writer +her what I seed. Dey had run bright and dat wuz good luck. One time I +runned de cyards for two sisters dat had done married two brothers, and +de cyards run so close kin date I wuz able to tell 'em how dey wuz +married and dey tol me dat I wuz right. + +"And jus' a few days ago a old man come to see me thinkin' dat he wuz +pizened. When I runned de cyards, I seed his trouble. He had been +drinkin' and wuz sick, so I jus' give him a big dose of soda and cream +of tartar and he got better. Den I tole him to go on home; dat nobody +hadn't done nothin' to 'im and all he needed wuz a little medicine. + +"I told Mr. Dick Armell of how he wuz goin' to git kilt if he went up in +his airyplane dat day and begged him not to try it but to wait. He +wouldn't listen and went on and got kilt jus' lak I tole 'im he would. +I runned de cyards for Mrs. Armell lots of times for I liked 'im, and he +wuz a fine man. I runned de cyards for 'im one time 'fore he went to de +World's Fair, and de cyards run bright, and his trip wuz a good one jus' +lak I tole 'im it would be. + +"All de old white folks dat I wuz raised up wid, de Hills from +Washin'ton, Wilkes, is gone now, 'cept I think one of de gals is wukin' +at de capitol in Atlanta, but she done married now and I don't 'member +her name." + +Alice excused herself to answer a knock at the door. Upon her return she +said: "Dat wuz one of my white chillun. I wukked for 'em so long and one +of 'em comes by every now an' den to see if I needs sompin'. Her ma done +had a new picture of herself took and wanted me to see it. Dey sho' is +good to me." + +Alice doesn't charge for "running the cards." She says she doesn't have +a license, and is very thankful for anything that visitors may care to +give her. She will not run the cards on Sunday. "Dat's bad luck," she +said. "Come back some day when tain't Sunday, and I'll see whats in de +cyards for you!" + + +Kizzie Colquitt + +Old Aunt Kizzie Colquitt, about 75 years old, was busily washing in her +neat kitchen. She opened the door and window frequently to let out the +smoke, saying: "Dis old wore out stove don't draw so good." Her hands +and feet were badly swollen and she seemed to be suffering. + +"I'll be glad to tell all I kin 'member 'bout dem old times," she said. +"I wuz borned durin' de war, but I don't 'member what year. My pa wuz +Mitchell Long. He b'longed to Marster Sam Long of Elbert County. Us +lived on Broad River. My ma wuz Sallie Long, and she b'longed to Marster +Billie Lattimore. Dey stayed on de other side of Broad River and my pa +and ma had to cross de river to see one another. Atter de war wuz over, +and dey wuz free, my pa went to Jefferson, Georgia, and dar he died. + +"My ma married some nigger from way out in Indiana. He promised her he +would send money back for her chillun, but us never heered nothin' from +'im no mo'. I wuz wid' my w'ite folks, de Lattimores, when my ma died, +way out in Indiana. + +"Atter Marse Bob died, I stayed wid my old Missus, and slep' by her bed +at night. She wuz good to me, and de hardes' wuk I done wuz pickin' up +acorns to fatten de hogs. I stayed dar wid her 'til she died. Us had +plenty t'eat, a smokehouse filled wid hams, and all de other things us +needed. Dey had a great big fireplace and a big old time oven whar dey +baked bread, and it sho' wuz good bread. + +"My old Missus died when I wuz 'bout 6 years old, and I wus sont to +Lexin'ton, Georgia, to live wid my sister. Dere wuz jus' da two of us +chilluns. Den us wukked every day, and went to bed by dark; not lak de +young folks now, gallivantin' 'bout all night long. + +"When I wuz 'bout 14 I married and come to live on Dr. Willingham's +place. It wuz a big plantation, and dey really lived. When de crops wuz +all in and all de wuk done, dey had big times 'round dar. + +"Dere wuz de corn shuckin' wid one house for de corn and another house +for de shucks. Atter all de shuckin' wuz done, dere wuz eatin' and +dancin'. And it wuz eatin' too! Dey kilt hogs, barbecued 'em, and +roasted some wid apples in dey mouf's to give 'em a good flavor, and +course a little corn likker went wid it. Dey had big doin's at syrup +makin' time too, but dat wuz hard wuk den. Makin' syrup sho' wuz a heap +of trouble. + +"Later us lived wid de Johnson fambly, and atter my old man died, I come +to dis town wid de Johnsons. Dere wuz three chilluns, Percy, Lewis, and +a gal. I stayed wid 'em 'til de chilluns wuz all growed up and +eddicated. All my other w'ite folks is gone; my sister done gone too, +and my son; all de chillun dat I had, deys done daid too. + +"Now I has to wash so I kin live. I used to have plenty, but times is +changed and now sometimes I don't have nothin' but bread, and jus' bread +is hard to git, heap of de time. + +"I put in for one of dem old age pensions, but dey ain't give me nothin' +yet, so I jus' wuk when I kin, and hope dat it won't be long 'fore I has +plenty again." + + + + +OLD SLAVE STORY + +DELLA BRISCOE +Macon, Georgia + +By Adella S. Dixon [HW: (Colored)] +[JUL 28 1937] + + +Della Briscoe, now living in Macon, is a former slave of Mr. David Ross, +who owned a large plantation in Putnam County. Della, when a very tiny +child, was carried there with her father and mother, Sam and Mary Ross. +Soon after their arrival the mother was sent to work at the "big house" +in Eatonton. This arrangement left Della, her brother and sister to the +care of their grandmother, who really posed as their mother. The +children grew up under the impression that their mother was an older +sister and did not know the truth until just after the close of the +Civil War, when the mother became seriously ill and called the children +to her bedside to tell them goodbye. + +Mr. David Ross had a large family and was considered the richest planter +in the county. Nearly every type of soil was found on his vast estate, +composed of hilly sections as well as acres of lowlands. The highway +entering Eatonton divided the plantation and, down this road every +Friday, Della's father drove the wagon to town with a supply of fresh +butter, for Mrs. Ross' thirty head of cows supplied enough milk to +furnish the city dwellers with butter. + +Refrigeration was practically unknown, so a well was used to keep the +butter fresh. This cool well was eighty feet deep and passed through a +layer of solid rock. A rope ladder was suspended from the mouth of the +well to the place where the butter was lowered for preservation. For +safety, and to shield it from the sun, reeds were planted all around the +well. And as they grew very tall, a stranger would not suspect a well +being there. + +In addition to marketing, Della's father trapped beavers which were +plentiful in the swampy part of the plantation bordering the Oconee, +selling their pelts to traders in the nearby towns of Augusta and +Savannah, where Mr. Ross also marketed his cotton and large quantities +of corn. Oxen, instead of mules, were used to make the trips to market +and return, each trip consuming six or seven days. + +The young children were assigned small tasks, such as piling brush in +"new grounds", carrying water to field hands, and driving the calves to +pasture. + +Punishment was administered, though not as often as on some plantations. +The little girl, Della, was whipped only once--for breaking up a +turkey's nest she had found. Several were accused of this, and because +the master could not find the guilty party, he whipped each of the +children. + +Crime was practically unknown and Mr. Ross' slaves never heard of a jail +until they were freed. + +Men were sometimes placed in "bucks", which meant they were laid across +blocks with their hands and feet securely tied. An iron bar was run +between the blocks to prevent any movement; then, after being stripped, +they were whipped. Della said that she knew of but one case of this +type of punishment being administered a Ross slave. Sickness was +negligible--childbirth being practically the only form of a Negro +woman's "coming down". + +As a precaution against disease, a tonic was given each slave every +spring. Three were also, every spring, taken from the field each day +until every one had been given a dose of calomel and salts. Mr. Ross +once bought two slaves who became ill with smallpox soon after their +arrival. They were isolated in a small house located in the center of a +field, while one other slave was sent there to nurse them. All three +were burned to death when their hut was destroyed by fire. + +In case of death, even on a neighboring place, all work was suspended +until the dead was buried. + +Sunday, the only day of rest, was often spent in attending religious +services, and because these were irregularly held, brush arbor meetings +were common. This arbor was constructed of a brush roof supported by +posts and crude joists. The seats were usually made of small saplings +nailed to short stumps. + +Religion was greatly stressed and every child was christened shortly +after its birth. An adult who desired to join the church went first to +the master to obtain his permission. He was then sent to the home of a +minister who lived a short distance away at a place called Flat Rock. +Here, his confession was made and, at the next regular service, he was +formally received into the church. + +Courtships were brief. + +The "old man", who was past the age for work and only had to watch what +went on at the quarters, was usually the first to notice a budding +friendship, which he reported to the master. The couple was then +questioned and, if they consented, were married without the benefit of +clergy. + +Food was distributed on Monday night, and for each adult slave the +following staple products were allowed-- + + Weekly ration: On Sunday: + 3-1/2 lbs. meat One qt. syrup + 1 pk. of meal One gal. flour + 1 gal. shorts One cup lard + +Vegetables, milk, etc., could be obtained at the "big house", but fresh +meat and chickens were never given. The desire for these delicacies +often overcame the slaves' better natures, and some frequently went +night foraging for small shoats and chickens. + +The "old man" kept account of the increase or decrease in live stock and +poultry and reported anything missing each day. When suspicion fell on a +visitor of the previous night, this information was given to his master, +who then searched the accused's dinner pail and cabin. If meat was found +in either the culprit was turned over to his accuser for punishment. +After being whipped, he was forbidden for three months to visit the +plantation where he had committed the theft. + +One of Della's grandmother's favorite recipes was made of dried beef and +wheat. The wheat was brought from the field and husked by hand. This, +added to the rapidly boiling beef, was cooked until a mush resulted, +which was then eaten from wooden bowls with spoons of the same material. +White plates were never used by the slaves. + +Cloth for clothing was woven on the place. Della's grandmother did most +of the spinning, and she taught her child to spin when she was so small +that she had to stand on a raised plank to reach the wheel. After the +cloth was spun it was dyed with dye made from "shoemake" (sumac) leaves, +green walnuts, reeds, and copperas. One person cut and others sewed. The +dresses for women were straight, like slips, and the garments of the +small boys resembled night shirts. If desired, a bias fold of +contrasting colour was placed at the waist line or at the bottom of +dresses. The crudely made garments were starched with a solution of +flour or meal and water which was strained and then boiled. + +As a small child Della remembers hearing a peculiar knock on the door +during the night, and a voice which replied to queries, "No one to hurt +you, but keep that red flannel in your mouth. Have you plenty to eat? +Don't worry; you'll be free." No one would ever tell, if they knew, to +whom this voice belonged. + +Just before the beginning of the Civil War a comet appeared which was so +bright that the elder people amused themselves by sitting on the rail +fence and throwing pins upon the ground where the reflection was cast. +The children scrambled madly to see who could find the most pins. + +During the early part of the war Mr. Ross fought with the Confederates, +leaving his young son, Robert, in charge of his affairs. The young +master was very fond of horses and his favorite horse--"Bill"--was +trained to do tricks. One of these was to lie down when tickled on his +flanks. The Yankees visited the plantation and tried to take this +horse. Robert, who loved him dearly, refused to dismount, and as they +were about to shoot the horse beneath him, the slaves began to plead. +They explained that the boy was kind to every one and devoted to +animals, after which explanation, he was allowed to keep his horse. + +The breastworks at Savannah required many laborers to complete their +construction, and as the commanders desired to save the strength of +their soldiers, slave labor was solicited. Two slaves from each nearby +plantation were sent to work for a limited number of days. The round +trip from the Ross plantation required seven days. + +Nearly every man had a family and when they returned from these long +trips they drove to the quarters and fell on their knees to receive the +welcome caresses of their small children. + +Recreational facilities were not provided and slave children had little +knowledge of how to play. Their two main amusements were building frog +houses and sliding down a steep bank on a long board. One day, as they +played up and down the highway, building frog houses at irregular +intervals, little Della looked up and saw a group of Yankee calvarymen +approaching. She screamed and began running and so attracted the +attention of Mr. Ross who was at home on a furlough. + +He saw the men in time to find a hiding place. Meanwhile, the soldiers +arrived and the leader, springing from his horse, snatched Della up and +spanked her soundly for giving the alarm, as they had hoped to take her +master by surprise. Della said this was the first "white slap" she ever +received. + +Some of the Yankees entered the house, tore up the interior, and threw +the furniture out doors. Another group robbed the smokehouse and smashed +so many barrels of syrup that it ran in a stream through the yard. They +carried much of the meat off with them and gave the remainder to the +slaves. Chickens were caught, dressed, and fried on the spot as each +soldier carried his own frying pan, and a piece of flint rock and a +sponge with which to make a fire. The men were skilled in dressing fowls +and cleaned them in a few strokes. + +When they had eaten as much as they desired, a search for the corral was +made, but the mules were so well hidden that they were not able to find +them. Della's father's hands were tied behind him and he was then forced +to show them the hiding place. These fine beasts, used for plowing, were +named by the slaves who worked them. Characteristic names were: "Jule", +"Pigeon", "Little Deal", "Vic", (the carriage horse), "Streaked leg," +"Kicking Kid", "Sore-back Janie". Every one was carried off. + +This raid took place on Christmas Eve and the slaves were frantic as +they had been told that Yankees were mean people, especially was Sherman +so pictured. + +When Sherman had gone, Mr. Ross came from his hiding place in the "cool +well" and spoke to his slaves. To the elder ones he said, "I saw you +give away my meat and mules." + +"Master, we were afraid. We didn't want to do it, but we were afraid not +to." + +"Yes, I understand that you could not help yourselves." He then turned +to the children, saying, "Bless all of you, but to little Della, I owe +my life. From now on she shall never be whipped, and she shall have a +home of her own for life." + +She shook with laughter as she said, "Master thought I screamed to warn +him and I was only frightened." + +True to his word, after freedom he gave her a three-acre plot of land +upon which he built a house and added a mule, buggy, cow, hogs, etc. +Della lived there until after her marriage, when she had to leave with +her husband. She later lost her home. Having been married twice, she now +bears the name of Briscoe, her last husband's name. + +When the family had again settled down to the ordinary routine, a new +plague, body lice, said to have been left by the invaders, made life +almost unbearable for both races. + +Della now lives with her granddaughter, for she has been unable to work +for twenty-eight years. Macon's Department of Public Welfare assists in +contributing to her livelihood, as the granddaughter can only pay the +room rent. + +She does not know her age but believes that she is above ninety. Her +keen old eyes seemed to look back into those bygone days as she said, "I +got along better den dan I eber hab since. We didn't know nuthin 'bout +jail houses, paying for our burial grounds, and de rent. We had plenty +o' food." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex. Slv. #11] + +GEORGE BROOKS, EX-SLAVE +Date of birth: Year unknown (See below) +Place of birth: In Muscogee County, near Columbus, Georgia +Present Residence: 502 East 8th Street, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: August 4, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + + +This old darky, probably the oldest ex-slave in West Georgia, claims to +be 112 years of age. His colored friends are also of the opinion that he +is fully that old or older--but, since none of his former (two) owners' +people can be located, and no records concerning his birth can be found, +his definite age cannot be positively established. + +"Uncle" George claims to have worked in the fields, "some", the year the +"stars fell"--1833. + +His original owner was Mr. Henry Williams--to whom he was greatly +attached. As a young man, he was--for a number of years--Mr. Williams' +personal body-servant. After Mr. Williams' death--during the 1850's, +"Uncle" George was sold to a white man--whose name he doesn't +remember--of Dadeville, Alabama, with whom he subsequently spent five +months in the Confederate service. + +One of "Uncle" George's stories is to the effect that he once left a +chore he was doing for his second "Marster's" wife, "stepped" to a +nearby well to get a drink of water and, impelled by some strange, +irresistible "power", "jes kep on walkin 'til he run slap-dab inter de +Yankees", who corraled him and kept him for three months. + +Still another story he tells is that of his being sold after freedom! +According to his version of this incident, he was sold along with two +bales of cotton in the fall of 1865--either the cotton being sold and he +"thrown in" with it, or vice versa--he doesn't know which, but he _does +know_ that he and the cotton were "sold" together! And very soon after +this transaction occurred, the seller was clapped in jail! Then, +"somebody" (he doesn't remember who) gave him some money, put him on a +stage-coach at night and "shipped" him to Columbus, where he learned +that he was a free man and has since remained. + +"Uncle" George has been married once and is the father of several +children. His wife, however, died fifty-odd years ago and he knows +nothing of the whereabouts of his children--doesn't even know whether or +not any of them are living, having lost "all track o'all kin fokes too +long ago to tawk about." + +Unfortunately, "Uncle" George's mind is clouded and his memory badly +impaired, otherwise his life story would perhaps be quite interesting. +For more than twenty years, he has been supported and cared for by kind +hearted members of his race, who say that they intend to continue "to +look after the old man 'til he passes on." + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +EASTER BROWN +1020 S. Lumpkin Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written By: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby + +Edited By: +John N. Booth +Federal Writers' Project +WPA Residency No. 7 + + +"Aunt" Easter Brown, 78 years old, was sweeping chips into a basket out +in front of her cabin. "Go right in honey, I'se comin' soon as I git +some chips for my fire. Does I lak to talk 'bout when I wuz a chile? I +sho does. I warn't but 4 years old when de war wuz over, but I knows all +'bout it." + +"I wuz born in Floyd County sometime in October. My pa wuz Erwin and my +ma wuz Liza Lorie. I don't know whar dey come from, but I knows dey wuz +from way down de country somewhars. Dere wuz six of us chilluns. All of +us wuz sold. Yessum, I wuz sold too. My oldest brother wuz named Jim. I +don't riccolec' de others, dey wuz all sold off to diffunt parts of de +country, and us never heared from 'em no more. My brother, my pa and me +wuz sold on de block in Rome, Georgia. Marster Frank Glenn buyed me. I +wuz so little dat when dey bid me off, dey had to hold me up so folkses +could see me. I don't 'member my real ma and pa, and I called Marster +'pa' an' Mist'ess 'ma', 'til I wuz 'bout 'leven years old. + +"I don't know much 'bout slave quarters, or what dey had in 'em, 'cause +I wuz raised in de house wid de white folkses. I does know beds in de +quarters wuz lak shelves. Holes wuz bored in de side of de house, two in +de wall and de floor, and poles runnin' from de wall and de floor, +fastened together wid pegs; on 'em dey put planks, and cross de foot of +de bed dey put a plank to hold de straw and keep de little 'uns from +fallin' out. + +"What did us have to eat? Lordy mussy! Mist'ess! us had everything. +Summertime dere wuz beans, cabbage, squashes, irish 'tatoes, roas'en +ears, 'matoes, cucumbers, cornbread, and fat meat, but de Nigger boys, +dey wuz plum fools 'bout hog head. In winter dey et sweet 'tatoes, +collards, turnips and sich, but I et lak de white folkses. I sho does +lak 'possums and rabbits. Yessum, some of de slaves had gyardens, some +of 'em sholy did. + +"No'm, us Niggers never wore no clothes in summer, I means us little +'uns. In de winter us wore cotton clothes, but us went barefoots. My +uncle Sam and some of de other Niggers went 'bout wid dey foots popped +open from de cold. Marster had 110 slaves on his plantation. + +"Mist'ess wuz good to me. Pa begged her to buy me, 'cause she wuz his +young Mist'ess and he knowed she would be good to me, but Marster wuz +real cruel. He'd beat his hoss down on his knees and he kilt one of 'em. +He whupped de Niggers when dey didn't do right. Niggers is lak dis; dey +wuz brought to dis here land wild as bucks, and dey is lak chicken +roosters in a pen. You just have to make 'em 'have deyselves. Its lak +dat now; if dey'd 'have deyselves, white folkses would let 'em be. + +"Dere warn't no jails in dem days. Dey had a gyuard house what dey +whupped 'em in, and Mondays and Tuesdays wuz set aside for de whuppin's, +when de Niggers what had done wrong got so many lashes, 'cordin' to what +devilment dey had been doin'. De overseer didn't do de whuppin', +Marster done dat. Dem patterrollers wuz sompin else. Mankind! If dey +ketched a Nigger out atter dark widout no pass dey'd most nigh tear de +hide offen his back. + +"I'll tell you what dat overseer done one night. Some enemy of Marster's +sot fire to de big frame house whar him and Mist'ess and de chillun +lived. De overseer seed it burnin', and run and clam up de tree what wuz +close to de house, went in de window and got Marster's two little gals +out dat burnin' house 'fore you could say scat. Dat sho fixed de +overseer wid old Marster. Atter dat Marster give him a nice house to +live in but Marster's fine old house sho wuz burnt to de ground. + +"De cyarriage driver wuz uncle Sam. He drove de chillun to school, tuk +Marster and Mist'ess to church, and done de wuk 'round de house; such +as, totin' in wood, keepin' de yards and waitin' on de cook. No'm us +slaves didn't go to church; de Niggers wuz so wore out on Sundays, dey +wuz glad to stay home and rest up, 'cause de overseer had 'em up way +'fore day and wuked 'em 'til long atter dark. On Saddays dey had to wash +deir clothes and git ready for de next week. Some slaves might a had +special things give to 'em on Christmas and New Years Day, but not on +Marster's plantation; dey rested up a day and dat wuz all. I heared tell +dey had Christmas fixin's and doin's on other plantations, but not on +Marse Frank's place. All corn shuckin's, cotton pickin's, log rollin's, +and de lak was when de boss made 'em do it, an' den dere sho warn't no +extra sompin t'eat. + +"De onliest game I ever played wuz to take my doll made out of a stick +wid a rag on it and play under a tree. When I wuz big 'nough to wuk, all +I done wuz to help de cook in de kitchen and play wid old Mist'ess' +baby. + +"Some of de Niggers runned away. Webster, Hagar, Atney, an' Jane runned +away a little while 'fore freedom. Old Marster didn't try to git 'em +back, 'cause 'bout dat time de war wuz over. Marster and Mist'ess sho +looked atter de Niggers when dey got sick for dey knowed dat if a Nigger +died dat much property wuz lost. Yessum, dey had a doctor sometime, but +de most dey done wuz give 'em hoarhound, yellow root and tansy. When a +baby wuz cuttin' teeth, dey biled ground ivy and give 'em. + +"Louisa, de cook wuz married in de front yard. All I 'members 'bout it +wuz dat all de Niggers gathered in de yard, Louisa had on a white dress; +de white folkses sho fixed Louisa up, 'cause she wuz deir cook. + +"Jus' lemme tell you 'bout my weddin' I buyed myself a dress and had it +laid out on de bed, den some triflin', no 'count Nigger wench tuk and +stole it 'fore I had a chance to git married in it. I had done buyed dat +dress for two pupposes; fust to git married in it, and second to be +buried in. I stayed on wid Old Miss 'til I got 'bout grown and den I +drifted to Athens. When I married my fust husband, Charlie Montgomery, I +wuz wukkin' for Mrs. W.R. Booth, and us married in her dinin' room. +Charlie died out and I married James Hoshier. Us had one baby. Hit wuz a +boy. James an' our boy is both daid now and I'se all by myself. + +"What de slaves done when dey wuz told dat dey wuz free? I wuz too +little to know what dey meant by freedom, but Old Marster called de +overseer and told him to ring de bell for de Niggers to come to de big +house. He told 'em dey wuz free devils and dey could go whar dey pleased +and do what dey pleased--dey could stay wid him if dey wanted to. Some +stayed wid Old Marster and some went away. I never seed no yankee +sojers. I heared tell of 'em comin' but I never seed none of 'em. + +"No'm I don't know nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Booker T. Washington +or Jefferson Davis. I didn't try to ketch on to any of 'em. As for +slavery days; some of de Niggers ought to be free and some oughtn't to +be. I don't know nuttin much 'bout it. I had a good time den, and I gits +on pretty good now. + +"How come I jined de church? Well I felt lak it wuz time for me to live +better and git ready for a home in de next world. Chile you sho has axed +me a pile of questions, and I has sho 'joyed tellin' you what I knowed." + + + + +JULIA BROWN (Aunt Sally) +710 Griffin Place, N.W. +Atlanta, Ga. +July 25, 1936[TR:?] + +by +Geneva Tonsill + +[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.] + + +AH ALWAYS HAD A HARD TIME + +Aunt Sally rocked back and forth incessantly. She mopped her wrinkled +face with a dirty rag as she talked. "Ah wuz born fo' miles frum +Commerce, Georgia, and wuz thirteen year ole at surrender. Ah belonged +to the Nash fambly--three ole maid sisters. My mama belonged to the +Nashes and my papa belonged to General Burns; he wuz a officer in the +war. There wuz six of us chilluns, Lucy, Malvina, Johnnie, Callie, Joe +and me. We didn't stay together long, as we wuz give out to different +people. The Nashes didn't believe in selling slaves but we wuz known as +their niggers. They sold one once 'cause the other slaves said they +would kill him 'cause he had a baby by his own daughter. So to keep him +frum bein' kilt, they sold him. + +"My mama died the year of surrender. Ah didn't fare well after her +death, Ah had sicha hard time. Ah wuz give to the Mitchell fambly and +they done every cruel thing they could to me. Ah slept on the flo' nine +years, winter and summer, sick or well. Ah never wore anything but a +cotton dress, a shimmy and draw's. That 'oman didn't care what happened +to the niggers. Sometimes she would take us to church. We'd walk to the +church house. Ah never went nowhere else. That 'oman took delight in +sellin' slaves. She'd lash us with a cowhide whip. Ah had to shift fur +mahself. + +"They didn't mind the slaves matin', but they wanted their niggers to +marry only amongst them on their place. They didn't 'low 'em to mate +with other slaves frum other places. When the wimmen had babies they wuz +treated kind and they let 'em stay in. We called it 'lay-in', just about +lak they do now. We didn't go to no horspitals as they do now, we jest +had our babies and had a granny to catch 'em. We didn't have all the +pain-easin' medicines then. The granny would put a rusty piece of tin or +a ax under the mattress and this would ease the pains. The granny put a +ax under my mattress once. This wuz to cut off the after-pains and it +sho did too, honey. We'd set up the fifth day and after the 'layin-in' +time wuz up we wuz 'lowed to walk out doors and they tole us to walk +around the house jest once and come in the house. This wuz to keep us +frum takin' a 'lapse. + +"We wuzn't 'lowed to go around and have pleasure as the folks does +today. We had to have passes to go wherever we wanted. When we'd git out +there wuz a bunch of white men called the 'patty rollers'. They'd come +in and see if all us had passes and if they found any who didn't have a +pass he wuz whipped; give fifty or more lashes--and they'd count them +lashes. If they said a hundred you got a hundred. They wuz somethin' lak +the Klu Klux. We wuz 'fraid to tell our masters about the patty rollers +because we wuz skeered they'd whip us again, fur we wuz tole not to +tell. They'd sing a little ditty. Ah wish Ah could remember the words, +but it went somethin' lak this: + + 'Run, Niggah, run, de Patty Rollers'll git you, + Run Niggah, ran, you'd bettah git away.' + +"We wuz 'fraid to go any place. + +"Slaves ware treated in most cases lak cattle. A man went about the +country buyin' up slaves lak buyin' up cattle and the like, and he wuz +called a 'speculator', then he'd sell 'em to the highest bidder. Oh! it +wuz pitiful to see chil'en taken frum their mothers' breast, mothers +sold, husbands sold frum wives. One 'oman he wuz to buy had a baby, and +of course the baby come befo' he bought her and he wouldn't buy the +baby; said he hadn't bargained to buy the baby too, and he jest +wouldn't. My uncle wuz married but he wuz owned by one master and his +wife wuz owned by another. He wuz 'lowed to visit his wife on Wednesday +and Saturday, that's the onliest time he could git off. He went on +Wednesday and when he went back on Saturday his wife had been bought by +the speculator and he never did know where she wuz. + +"Ah worked hard always. Honey, you can't 'magine what a hard time Ah +had. Ah split rails lak a man. How did Ah do it? Ah used a huge glut, +and a iron wedge drove into the wood with a maul, and this would split +the wood. + +"Ah help spin the cotton into thread fur our clothes. The thread wuz +made into big broaches--four broaches made four cuts, or one hank. After +the thread wuz made we used a loom to weave the cloth. We had no sewin' +machine--had to sew by hand. My mistress had a big silver bird and she +would always catch the cloth in the bird's bill and this would hold it +fur her to sew. + +"Ah didn't git to handle money when I wuz young. Ah worked frum sunup to +sundown. We never had overseers lak some of the slaves. We wuz give so +much work to do in a day and if the white folks went off on a vacation +they would give us so much work to do while they wuz gone and we better +have all of that done too when they'd come home. Some of the white folks +wuz very kind to their slaves. Some did not believe in slavery and some +freed them befo' the war and even give 'em land and homes. Some would +give the niggers meal, lard and lak that. They made me hoe when Ah wuz a +chile and Ah'd keep rat up with the others, 'cause they'd tell me that +if Ah got behind a run-a-way nigger would git me and split open my head +and git the milk out'n it. Of course Ah didn't know then that wuzn't +true--Ah believed everything they tole me and that made me work the +harder. + +"There wuz a white man, Mister Jim, that wuz very mean to the slaves. +He'd go 'round and beat 'em. He'd even go to the little homes, tear down +the chimneys and do all sorts of cruel things. The chimneys wuz made of +mud 'n straw 'n sticks; they wuz powerful strong too. Mister Jim wuz +jest a mean man, and when he died we all said God got tired of Mister +Jim being so mean and kilt him. When they laid him out on the coolin' +board, everybody wuz settin' 'round, moanin' over his death, and all of +a sudden Mister Jim rolled off'n the coolin' board, and sich a runnin' +and gittin' out'n that room you never saw. We said Mister Jim wuz tryin' +to run the niggers and we wuz 'fraid to go about at night. Ah believed +it then; now that they's 'mbalmin' Ah know that must have been gas and +he wuz purgin', fur they didn't know nothin' 'bout 'mbalmin' then. They +didn't keep dead folks out'n the ground long in them days. + +"Doctors wuzn't so plentiful then. They'd go 'round in buggies and on +hosses. Them that rode on a hoss had saddle pockets jest filled with +little bottles and lots of them. He'd try one medicine and if it didn't +do not [TR: no?] good he'd try another until it did do good and when the +doctor went to see a sick pusson he'd stay rat there until he wuz +better. He didn't jest come in and write a 'scription fur somebody to +take to a drug store. We used herbs a lots in them days. When a body had +dropsy we'd set him in a tepid bath made of mullein leaves. There wuz a +jimson weed we'd use fur rheumatism, and fur asthma we'd use tea made of +chestnut leaves. We'd git the chestnut leaves, dry them in the sun jest +lak tea leaves, and we wouldn't let them leaves git wet fur nothin' in +the world while they wuz dryin'. We'd take poke salad roots, boil them +and then take sugar and make a syrup. This wuz the best thing fur +asthma. It was known to cure it too. Fur colds and sich we used +ho'hound; made candy out'n it with brown sugar. We used a lots of rock +candy and whiskey fur colds too. They had a remedy that they used fur +consumption--take dry cow manure, make a tea of this and flavor it with +mint and give it to the sick pusson. We didn't need many doctors then +fur we didn't have so much sickness in them days, and nachelly they +didn't die so fast; folks lived a long time then. They used a lot of +peachtree leaves too for fever, and when the stomach got upsot we'd +crush the leaves, pour water over them and wouldn't let them drink any +other kind of water 'till they wuz better. Ah still believes in them ole +ho'made medicines too and ah don't believe in so many doctors. + +"We didn't have stoves plentiful then: just ovens we set in the +fireplace. Ah's toted a many a armful of bark--good ole hickory bark to +cook with. We'd cook light bread--both flour and corn. The yeast fur +this bread wuz made frum hops. Coals of fire wuz put on top of the oven +and under the bottom, too. Everything wuz cooked on coals frum a wood +fire--coffee and all. Wait, let me show you my coffee tribet. Have you +ever seen one? Well, Ah'll show you mine." Aunt Sally got up and hobbled +to the kitchen to get the trivet. After a few moments search she came +back into the room. + +"No, it's not there. Ah guess it's been put in the basement. Ah'll show +it to you when you come back. It's a rack made of iron that the pot is +set on befo' puttin' it on the fire coals. The victuals wuz good in them +days; we got our vegetables out'n the garden in season and didn't have +all the hot-house vegetables. Ah don't eat many vegetables now unless +they come out'n the garden and I know it. Well, as I said, there wuz +racks fitted in the fireplace to put pots on. Once there wuz a big pot +settin' on the fire, jest bilin' away with a big roast in it. As the +water biled, the meat turned over and over, comin' up to the top and +goin' down again, Ole Sandy, the dog, come in the kitchen. He sot there +a while and watched that meat roll over and over in the pot, and all of +a sudden-like he grabbed at that meat and pulls it out'n the pot. +'Course he couldn't eat it 'cause it wuz hot and they got the meat befo' +he et it. The kitchen wuz away frum the big house, so the victuals wuz +cooked and carried up to the house. Ah'd carry it up mahse'f. We +couldn't eat all the different kinds of victuals the white folks et and +one mornin' when I was carryin' the breakfast to the big house we had +waffles that wuz a pretty golden brown and pipin' hot. They wuz a +picture to look at and ah jest couldn't keep frum takin' one, and that +wuz the hardest waffle fur me to eat befo' I got to the big house I ever +saw. Ah jest couldn't git rid of that waffle 'cause my conscience +whipped me so. + +"They taught me to do everything. Ah'd use battlin' blocks and battlin' +sticks to wash the clothes; we all did. The clothes wuz taken out of the +water an put on the block and beat with a battlin' stick, which was made +like a paddle. On wash days you could hear them battlin' sticks poundin' +every which-away. We made our own soap, used ole meat and grease, and +poured water over wood ashes which wuz kept in a rack-like thing and the +water would drip through the ashes. This made strong lye. We used a lot +'o sich lye, too, to bile with. + +"Sometimes the slaves would run away. Their masters wuz mean to them +that caused them to run away. Sometimes they would live in caves. How +did they get along? Well, chile, they got along all right--what with +other people slippin' things in to 'em. And, too, they'd steal hogs, +chickens, and anything else they could git their hands on. Some white +people would help, too, fur there wuz some white people who didn't +believe in slavery. Yes, they'd try to find them slaves that run away +and if they wuz found they'd be beat or sold to somebody else. My +grandmother run away frum her master. She stayed in the woods and she +washed her clothes in the branches. She used sand fur soap. Yes, chile, +I reckon they got 'long all right in the caves. They had babies in thar +and raised 'em too. + +"Ah stayed with the Mitchells 'til Miss Hannah died. Ah even helped to +lay her out. Ah didn't go to the graveyard though. Ah didn't have a home +after she died and Ah wandered from place to place, stayin' with a white +fambly this time and then a nigger fambly the next time. Ah moved to +Jackson County and stayed with a Mister Frank Dowdy. Ah didn't stay +there long though. Then Ah moved to Winder, Georgia. They called it 'Jug +Tavern' in them days, 'cause jugs wuz made there. Ah married Green +Hinton in Winder. Got along well after marryin' him. He farmed fur a +livin' and made a good livin' fur me and the eight chilluns, all born in +Winder. The chilluns wuz grown nearly when he died and wuz able to help +me with the smalles ones. Ah got along all right after his death and +didn't have sich a hard time raisin' the chilluns. Then Ah married Jim +Brown and moved to Atlanta. Jim farmed at first fur a livin' and then he +worked on the railroad--the Seaboard. He helped to grade the first +railroad track for that line. He wuz a sand-dryer." + +Aunt Sally broke off her story here. "Lord, honey, Ah got sich a pain in +mah stomach Ah don't believe Ah can go on. It's a gnawin' kind of pain. +Jest keeps me weak all over." Naturally I suggested that we complete the +story at another time. So I left, promisin' to return in a few days. A +block from the house I stopped in a store to order some groceries for +Aunt Sally. The proprietress, a Jewish woman, spoke up when I gave the +delivery address. She explained in broken English that she knew Aunt +Sally. + +"I tink you vas very kind to do dis for Aunt Sally. She neets it. I +often gif her son food. He's very old and feeble. He passed here +yesterday and he look so wasted and hungry. His stomick look like it vas +drawn in, you know. I gif him some fresh hocks. I know dey could not eat +all of them in a day and I'm afrait it von't be goof [TR: goot? or +good?] for dem today. I vas trained to help people in neet. It's pert of +my religion. See, if ve sit on de stritcar and an olt person comes in +and finds no seat, ve get up and gif him one. If ve see a person loaded +vid bundles and he iss old and barely able to go, ve gif a hand. See, ve +Jews--you colored--but ve know no difference. Anyvon neeting help, ve +gif." + +A couple of days later I was back at Aunt Sally's. I had brought some +groceries for the old woman. I knocked a long time on the front door, +and, getting no answer, I picked my way through the rank growth of weeds +and grass surrounding the house and went around to the back door. It +opened into the kitchen, where Aunt Sally and her son were having +breakfast. The room was small and dark and I could hardly see the +couple, but Aunt Sally welcomed me. "Lawd, honey, you come right on in. +I tole John I heard somebody knockin' at the do'." + +"You been hearin' things all mornin'," John spoke up. He turned to me. +"You must've been thinkin' about mamma just when we started eatin' +breakfast because she asked me did I hear somebody call her. I tole her +the Lawd Jesus is always a-callin' poor niggers, but she said it sounded +like the lady's voice who was here the other day. Well I didn't hear +anything and I tole her she mus' be hearin' things." + +I'd put the bag of groceries on the table unobtrusively, but Aunt Sally +wasn't one to let such gifts pass unnoticed. Eagerly she tore the bag +open and began pulling out the packages. "Lawd bless you, chile, and He +sho will bless you! I feels rich seein' what you brought me. Jest look +at this--Lawdy mercy!--rolls, butter, milk, balogny...! Oh, this +balogny, jest looky there! You must a knowed what I wanted!" She was +stuffing it in her mouth as she talked. "And these aigs...! Honey, you +knows God is goin' to bless you and let you live long. Ah'se goin' to +cook one at a time. And Ah sho been wantin' some milk. Ah'se gonna cook +me a hoecake rat now." + +She went about putting the things in little cans and placing them on +shelves or in the dilapidated little cupboard that stood in a corner. I +sat down near the door and listened while she rambled on. + +"Ah used to say young people didn't care bout ole folks but Ah is takin' +that back now. Ah jest tole my son the other day that its turned round, +the young folks thinks of the ole and tries to help 'em and the ole +folks don't try to think of each other; some of them, they is too mean. +Ah can't understand it; Ah jest know I heard you call me when Ah started +to eat, and tole my son so. Had you been to the do' befo'?" She talked +on not waiting for a reply. "Ah sho did enjoy the victuals you sent day +befo' yistidy. They send me surplus food frum the gove'nment but Ah +don't like what they send. The skim milk gripes me and Ah don't like +that yellow meal. A friend brought me some white meal t'other day. And +that wheat cereal they send! Ah eats it with water when Ah don't have +milk and Ah don't like it but when you don't have nothin' else you got +to eat what you have. They send me 75¢ ever two weeks but that don't go +very fur. Ah ain't complainin' fur Ah'm thankful fur what Ah git. + +"They send a girl to help me around the house, too. She's frum the +housekeepin' department. She's very nice to me. Yes, she sho'ly is a +sweet girl, and her foreman is sweet too. She comes in now 'n then to +see me and see how the girl is gittin' along. She washes, too. Ah's been +on relief a long time. Now when Ah first got on it wuz when they first +started givin' me. They give me plenty of anything Ah asked fur and my +visitor wuz Mrs. Tompkins. She wuz so good to me. Well they stopped that +and then the DPW (Department of Public Welfare) took care of me. When +they first started Ah got more than I do now and they've cut me down +'till Ah gits only a mighty little. + +"Yes, Ah wuz talkin' about my husband when you wuz here t'other day. He +wuz killed on the railroad. After he moved here he bought this home. +Ah'se lived here twenty years. Jim wuz comin' in the railroad yard one +day and stepped off the little engine they used for the workers rat in +the path of the L. & M. train. He wuz cut up and crushed to pieces. He +didn't have a sign of a head. They used a rake to git up the pieces they +did git. A man brought a few pieces out here in a bundle and Ah +wouldn't even look at them. Ah got a little money frum the railroad but +the lawyer got most of it. He brought me a few dollars out and tole me +not to discuss it with anyone nor tell how much Ah got. Ah tried to git +some of the men that worked with him to tell me just how it all +happened, but they wouldn't talk, and it wuz scand'lous how them niggers +held their peace and wouldn't tell me anything. The boss man came out +later but he didn't seem intrusted in it at all, so Ah got little or +nothing fur his death. The lawyer got it fur hisse'f. + +"All my chilluns died 'cept my son and he is ole and sick and can't do +nothin' fur me or hisse'f. He gets relief too, 75¢ every two weeks. He +goes 'round and people gives him a little t'eat. He has a hard time +tryin' to git 'long. + +"Ah had a double bed in t'other room and let a woman have it so she +could git some of the delegates to the Baptist World Alliance and she +wuz goin' to pay me fur lettin' her use the bed, but she didn't git +anybody 'cept two. They come there on Friday and left the next day. She +wuz tole that they didn't act right 'bout the delegates and lots of +people went to the expense to prepare fur them and didn't git a one. Ah +wuz sorry, for Ah intended to use what she paid me fur my water bill. Ah +owes $3.80 and had to give my deeds to my house to a lady to pay the +water bill fur me and it worries me 'cause Ah ain't got no money to pay +it, fur this is all Ah got and Ah hates to loose my house. Ah wisht it +wuz some way to pay it. Ah ain't been able to do fur mahse'f in many +years now, and has to depend on what others gives me. + +"Tell you mo' about the ole times? Lawd, honey, times has changed so +frum when Ah was young. You don't hear of haints as you did when I +growed up. The Lawd had to show His work in miracles 'cause we didn't +have learnin' in them days as they has now. And you may not believe it +but them things happened. Ah knows a old man what died, and after his +death he would come to our house where he always cut wood, and at night +we could hear a chain bein' drug along in the yard, jest as if a big +log-chain wuz bein' pulled by somebody. It would drag on up to the +woodpile and stop, then we could hear the thump-thump of the ax on the +wood. The woodpile was near the chimney and it would chop-chop on, then +stop and we could hear the chain bein' drug back the way it come. This +went on fur several nights until my father got tired and one night after +he heard it so long, the chop-chop, papa got mad and hollered at the +haint, 'G---- D---- you, go to hell!!!' and that spirit went off and +never did come back! + +"We'd always know somebody wuz goin' to die when we heard a owl come to +a house and start screechin'. We always said, 'somebody is gwine to +die!' Honey, you don't hear it now and it's good you don't fur it would +skeer you to death nearly. It sounded so mo'nful like and we'd put the +poker or the shovel in the fire and that always run him away; it burned +his tongue out and he couldn't holler no more. If they'd let us go out +lak we always wanted to, Ah don't 'spects we'd a-done it, 'cause we wuz +too skeered. Lawdy, chile, them wuz tryin' days. Ah sho is glad God let +me live to see these 'uns. + +"Ah tried to git the ole-age pension fur Ah sho'ly needed it and wuz +'titled to it too. Sho wuz. But that visitor jest wouldn't let me go +through. She acted lak that money belonged to her. Ah 'plied when it +first come out and shoulda been one of the first to get one. Ah worried +powerful much at first fur Ah felt how much better off Ah'd be. Ah +wouldn't be so dependent lak Ah'm is now. Ah 'spects you know that +'oman. She is a big black 'oman--wuz named Smith at first befo' she +married. She is a Johns now. She sho is a mean 'oman. She jest wouldn't +do no way. Ah even tole her if she let me go through and Ah got my +pension Ah would give her some of the money Ah got, but she jest didn't +do no way. She tole me if Ah wuz put on Ah'd get no more than Ah _wuz_ +gittin'. Ah sho believes them thats on gits more'n 75¢ every two weeks. +Ah sho had a hard time and a roughety road to travel with her my +visitor until they sent in the housekeeper. Fur that head 'oman jest +went rat out and got me some clothes. Everything Ah needed. When Ah tole +her how my visitor wuz doin' me she jest went out and come rat back with +all the things Ah needed. Ah don't know why my visitor done me lak that. +Ah said at first it wuz because Ah had this house but honey what could +Ah do with a house when Ah wuz hongry and not able to work. Ah always +worked hard. 'Course Ah didn't git much fur it but Ah lak to work fur +what Ah gits." + +Aunt Sally was beginning to repeat herself and I began to suspect she +was talking just to please me. So I arose to go. + +"Lawsy mercy, chile, you sho is sweet to set here and talk to a ole +'oman lak me. Ah sho is glad you come. Ah tole my son you wuz a bundle +of sunshine and Ah felt so much better the day you left--and heah you is +again! Chile, my nose wuzn't itchin' fur nothin'! You come back to see +me real soon. Ah'se always glad to have you. And the Lawd's gonna sho go +with you fur bein' so good to me." + +My awareness of the obvious fulsomeness in the old woman's praise in no +way detracted from my feeling of having done a good deed. Aunt Sally was +a clever psychologist and as I carefully picked my way up the weedy path +toward the street, I felt indeed that the "Lawd" was "sho goin'" with +me. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +JULIA BUNCH, Age 85 +Beech Island +South Carolina + +Written by: +Leila Harris +Augusta + +Edited by: +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Res. 6 & 7 +[MAY 10 1938] + + +Seated in a comfortable chair in the living room of her home, Julia +Bunch, Negress of 85 years, presented a picture of the old South that +will soon pass away forever. The little 3-room house, approachable only +on foot, was situated on top of a hill. Around the clean-swept yard, +petunias, verbena, and other flowers were supplemented by a large patch +of old-fashioned ribbon grass. A little black and white kitten was +frisking about and a big red hen lazily scratched under a big shade tree +in search of food for her brood. Julia's daughter, who was washing +"white people's clothes" around the side of the house, invited us into +the living room where her mother was seated. + +The floors of the front porch and the living room were scrubbed +spotlessly clean. There was a rug on the floor, while a piano across one +corner, a chifforobe with mirrored doors, a bureau, and several +comfortable chairs completed the room's furnishings. A motley assortment +of pictures adorning the walls included: _The Virgin Mother_, _The +Sacred Bleeding Heart_, several large family photographs, two pictures +of the Dionne Quintuplets, and one of President Roosevelt. + +Julia was not very talkative, but had a shy, irresistible chuckle, and +it was this, together with her personal appearance and the tidiness of +her home that left an indelible impression on the minds of her visitors. +Her skin was very dark, and her head closely wrapped in a dark bandana, +from which this gray hair peeped at intervals forming a frame for her +face. She was clad in a black and white flowered print dress and a dark +gray sweater, from which a white ruffle was apparent at the neck. Only +two buttons of the sweater were fastened and it fell away at the waist +displaying her green striped apron. From beneath the long dress, her +feet were visible encased in men's black shoes laced with white strings. +Her ornaments consisted of a ring on her third finger, earrings, and +tortoise-rimmed glasses which plainly displayed their dime-store origin. + +"I b'longed to Marse Jackie Dorn of Edgefield County, I was gived to him +and his wife when dey was married for a weddin' gift. I nussed deir +three chilluns for 'em and slep' on a couch in dier bedroom 'til I was +12 years old, den 'Mancipation come. I loved 'em so and stayed wid 'em +for four years atter freedom and when I left 'em I cried and dem +chilluns cried. + +"Yassir, dey was sho' good white people and very rich. Dere warn't +nothin' lackin' on dat plantation. De big house was part wood and part +brick, and de Niggers lived in one or two room box houses built in rows. +Marse Jackie runned a big grist mill and done de grindin' for all de +neighbors 'round 'bout. Three or four Niggers wukked in de mill all de +time. Us runned a big farm and dairy too. + +"Dere was allus plenty t'eat 'cause Marster had a 2-acre gyarden and a +big fruit orchard. Two cooks was in de kitchen all de time. Dey cooked +in a big fireplace, but us had big ovens to cook de meat, biscuits and +lightbread in. Us made 'lasses and syrup and put up fruits just lak dey +does now. + +"My Ma was head weaver. It tuk two or three days to set up de loom +'cause dere was so many little bitty threads to be threaded up. Us had +dyes of evvy color. Yassir, us could make wool cloth too. De sheeps was +sheered once a year and de wool was manufactured up and us had a loom +wid wheels to spin it into thread. + +"Old Marster never whupped nobody and dere was only one man dat I kin +'member dat de overseer whupped much and he 'served it 'cause he would +run away in spite of evvything. Dey would tie him to a tree way down in +de orchard and whup him." + +Julia kept repeating and seemed anxious to impress upon the minds of her +visitors that her white folks were good and very rich. "Yassir, my white +folks had lots of company and visited a lot. Dey rode saddle horses and +had deir own carriages wid a high seat for de driver. Nosir, she didn't +ride wid hoopskirts--you couldn't ride wid dem on. + +"Us bought some shoes from de market but dere was a travelin' shoemaker +dat wukked by days for all de folks. He was a slave and didn't git no +money; it was paid to his Marster. Us had our own blacksmith dat wukked +all de time. + +"De slaves from all de plantations 'round come to our corn shuckin's. Us +had 'em down in de orchard. Lots of white folks comed too. Dey kilt hogs +and us had a big supper and den us danced. Nosir, dere warn't no toddy, +Marse didn't b'lieve in dat, but dey would beat up apples and us drinked +de juice. It sho' was sweet too. + +"Folks done dey travelin' in stages and hacks in dem days. Each of de +stages had four hosses to 'em. When de cotton and all de other things +was ready to go to market, dey would pack 'em and bring 'em to Augusta +wid mules and wagons. It would take a week and sometimes longer for de +trip, and dey would come back loaded down wid 'visions and clothes, and +dere was allus a plenty for all de Niggers too. + +"De white folks allus helped deir Niggers wid de weddin's and buyed deir +clothes for 'em. I 'members once a man friend of mine come to ax could +he marry one of our gals. Marster axed him a right smart of questions +and den he told him he could have her, but he mustn't knock or cuff her +'bout when he didn't want her no more, but to turn her loose. + +"Us had a big cemetery on our place and de white folks allus let deir +Niggers come to de fun'rals. De white folks had deir own sep'rate +buryin' ground, but all de coffins was home-made. Even de ones for de +settlement peoples was made right in our shop. Yassum, dey sung at de +fun'rals and you wants me to sing. I can't sing, but I'll try a little +bit." Then with a beautiful and peculiar rhythm only attained by the +southern Negro, she chanted: + + 'Come-ye-dat-love-de-Lord + And-let-your-joys-be-known.' + +"A rooster crowin' outside your door means company's comin' and a +squinch owl means sho' death. Dose are all de signs I kin 'member and I +don't 'member nothin' 'bout slavery remedies. + +"Yassir, dey useter give us a nickel or 10 cents sometimes so us could +buy candy from de store." Asked if she remembered patterollers she gave +her sly chuckle and said: "I sho' does. One time dey come to our house +to hunt for some strange Niggers. Dey didn't find 'em but I was so +skeered I hid de whole time dey was dar. Yassir, de Ku Kluxers raised +cain 'round dar too. + +"I 'members de day well when Marster told us us was free. I was glad and +didn't know what I was glad 'bout. Den 'bout 200 Yankee soldiers come +and dey played music right dar by de roadside. Dat was de fust drum and +fife music I ever heared. Lots of de Niggers followed 'em on off wid +just what dey had on. None of our Niggers went and lots of 'em stayed +right on atter freedom. + +"Four years atter dat, I left Edgefield and come here wid my old man. Us +had six chilluns. My old man died six years ago right dar 'cross de road +and I'se livin' here wid my daughter. I can't wuk no more. I tried to +hoe a little out dar in de field last year and I fell down and I hasn't +tried no more since. + +"I went once not so long ago to see my white folkses. Dey gived me a +dollar to spend for myself and I went 'cross de street and buyed me some +snuff--de fust I had had for a long time. Dey wanted to know if I had +ever got de old age pension and said dat if I had been close to dem I +would have had it 'fore now." + + + + +[HW: Ex. Slv. #6] + +[HW: MARSHAL BUTLER] +Subject: Slavery Days And After +District: No. 1 W.P.A. +Editor and Research: Joseph E. Jaffee +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee + +[HW: (This copy has photog. attached.)] + + +Slavery Days And After + +I'se Marshal Butler, [HW: 88] years old and was born on December 25. I +knows it was Christmas Day for I was a gift to my folks. Anyhow, I'se +the only niggah that knows exactly how old he be. I disremembers the +year but you white folks can figure et out. + +[Illustration] + +My mammy was Harriet Butler and my pappy was John Butler and we all was +raised in Washington-Wilkes. + +Mammy was a Frank Collar niggah and her man was of the tribe of Ben +Butler, some miles down de road. Et was one of dem trial +marriages--they'se tried so hard to see each other but old Ben Butler +says two passes a week war enuff to see my mammy on de Collar +plantation. When de war was completed pappy came home to us. We wuz a +family of ten--four females called Sally, Liza, Ellen and Lottie and six +strong bucks called Charlie, Elisha, Marshal, Jack, Heywood and little +Johnnie, [TR: 'cuz he war' marked out] de baby. + +De Collar plantation wuz big and I don't know de size of it. Et must +have been big for dere war [HW: 250] niggahs aching to go to work--I +guess they mus' have been aching after de work wuz done. Marse Frank +bossed the place hisself--dere war no overseers. We raised cotton, +corn, wheat and everything we un's et. Dere war no market to bring de +goods to. Marse Frank wuz like a foodal lord of back history as my good +for nothing grandson would say--he is the one with book-larning from +Atlanta. Waste of time filling up a nigger's head with dat trash--what +that boy needs is muscle-ology--jes' look at my head and hands. + +My mammy was maid in de Collar's home and she had many fine +dresses--some of them were give to her by her missus. Pappy war a field +nigger for ole Ben Butler and I worked in the field when I wuz knee high +to a grasshopper. We uns et our breakfast while et war dark and we +trooped to the fields at sun-up, carrying our lunch wid us. Nothing +fancy but jes' good rib-sticking victuals. We come in from the fields at +sun-down and dere were a good meal awaiting us in de slave quarters. My +good Master give out rations every second Monday and all day Monday wuz +taken to separate the wheat from the chaff--that is--I mean the victuals +had to be organized to be marched off to de proper depository. + +Before we uns et we took care of our mules. I had a mule named George--I +know my mule--he was a good mule. + + "Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee, this mornin'. + Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee. + An' I hit him across the head with + the single-tree, so soon." + +Yes, Boss-man I remembers my mule. + +Marse Frank gave mammy four acres of ground to till for herself and us +childrens. We raised cotton--yes-sah! one bale of it and lots of garden +truck. Our boss-man give us Saturday as a holiday to work our four +acres. + +All the niggers worked hard--de cotton pickers had to pick 200 pounds of +cotton a day and if a nigger didn't, Marse Frank would take de nigger to +the barn and beat him with a switch. He would tell de nigger to hollow +loud as he could and de nigger would do so. Then the old Mistress would +come in and say! "What are you doing Frank?" "Beating a nigger" would be +his answer. "You let him alone, he is my nigger" and both Marse Frank +and de whipped nigger would come out of the barn. We all loved Marse and +the Mistress. No, we wuz never whipped for stealing--we never stole +anything in dose days--much. + +We sure froliked Saturday nights. Dat wuz our day to howl and we howled. +Our gals sure could dance and when we wuz thirsty we had lemonade and +whiskey. No sah! we never mixed [HW: no] whiskey with [HW: no] +water.--Dem dat wanted lemonade got it--de gals all liked it. Niggers +never got drunk those days--we wuz scared of the "Paddle-Rollers." +Um-m-h and swell music. A fiddle and a tin can and one nigger would beat +his hand on the can and another nigger would beat the strings on the +[HW: fiddle] [TR: 'can' marked out.] with broom straws. It wuz almos' +like a banjo. I remembers we sung "Little Liza Jane" and "Green Grows +the Willow Tree". De frolik broke up in de morning--about two +o'clock--and we all scattered to which ever way we wuz going. + +We put on clean clothes on Sunday and go to church. We went to de white +church. Us niggars sat on one side and de white folks sat on the other. +We wuz baptized in de church--de "pool-room" wuz right in de church. + +If we went visiting we had to have a pass. If nigger went out without a +pass de "Paddle-Rollers" would get him. De white folks were the +"Paddle-Rollers" and had masks on their faces. They looked like niggers +wid de devil in dere eyes. They used no paddles--nothing but straps--wid +de belt buckle fastened on. + +Yes sah! I got paddled. Et happened dis way. I'se left home one Thursday +to see a gal on the Palmer plantation--five miles away. Some gal! No, I +didn't get a pass--de boss was so busy! Everything was fine until my +return trip. I wuz two miles out an' three miles to go. There come de +"Paddle-Rollers" I wuz not scared--only I couldn't move. They give me +thirty licks--I ran the rest of the way home. There was belt buckles all +over me. I ate my victuals off de porch railing. Some gal! Um-m-h. Was +worth that paddlin' to see that gal--would do it over again to see Mary +de next night. + + "O Jane! love me lak you useter, + O Jane! chew me lak you useter, + Ev'y time I figger, my heart gits bigger, + Sorry, sorry, can't be yo' piper any mo". + +Um-m-mh--Some gal! + +We Niggers were a healthy lot. If we wuz really sick Marse Frank would +send for Doctor Fielding Ficklin of Washington. If jus' a small cold de +nigger would go to de woods and git catnip and roots and sich things. If +tummy ache--dere was de Castor oil--de white folks say children cry for +it--I done my cryin' afterwards. For sore throat dere was alum. +Everybody made their own soap--if hand was burned would use soap as a +poultice and place it on hand. Soap was made out of grease, potash and +water and boiled in a big iron pot. If yo' cut your finger use kerozene +wid a rag around it. Turpentine was for sprains and bad cuts. For +constipation use tea made from sheep droppings and if away from home de +speed of de feet do not match de speed of this remedy. + +No, boss, I'se not superstitious and I'se believe in no signs. I jes' +carry a rabbits' foot for luck. But I do believe the screeching of an +owl is a sign of death. I found et to be true. I had an Uncle named +Haywood. He stayed at my house and was sick for a month but wasn't so +bad off. One night uncle had a relapse and dat same night a screech owl +come along and sat on de top of de house and he--I mean the +owl,--"whooed" three times and next morning uncle got "worser" and at +eleven o'clock he died. + +I does believe in signs. When de rooster crows in the house it is sign +of a stranger coming. If foot itches you is going to walk on strange +land. If cow lows at house at night death will be 'round de house in +short time. If sweeping out ashes at night dat is bad luck for you is +sweeping out your best friend. Remember, your closest friend is your +worst enemy. + +If you want to go a courtin'--et would take a week or so to get your +gal. Sometimes some fool nigger would bring a gal a present--like +"pulled-candy" and sich like. I had no time for sich foolishness. You +would pop the question to boss man to see if he was willing for you to +marry de gal. There was no minister or boss man to marry you--no +limitations at all. Boss man would jes say: "Don't forget to bring me a +little one or two for next year" De Boss man would fix a cottage for two +and dere you was established for life. + + "If you want to go a courtin', I sho' you where to go, + Right down yonder in de house below, + Clothes all dirty an' ain't got no broom, + Ole dirty clothes all hangin' in de room. + Ask'd me to table, thought I'd take a seat, + First thing I saw was big chunk o'meat. + Big as my head, hard as a maul, + ash-cake, corn bread, bran an' all." + +Marse Frank had plenty of visitors to see him and his three gals was +excuse for anyone for miles around to come trompin' in. He enterained +mostly on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I remembers them nights for what +was left over from de feasts the niggers would eat. + +Dr. Fielding Ficklen [TR: earlier, 'Ficklin'], Bill Pope, Judge +Reese,--General Robert Toombs and Alexander Stephens from +Crawfordville--all would come to Marse Franks' big house. + +General Robert Toombs lived in Washington and had a big plantation 'bout +a mile from de city. He was a farmer and very rich. De General wuz a big +man--'bout six feet tall--heavy and had a full face. Always had +unlighted cigar in his mouth. He was the first man I saw who smoked ten +cent cigars. Niggers used to run to get "the stumps" and the lucky +nigger who got the "stump" could even sell it for a dime to the other +niggers for after all--wasn't it General Toombs' cigar? The General +never wore expensive clothes and always carried a crooked-handled +walking stick. I'se never heard him say "niggah", never heard him cuss. +He always helped us niggars--gave gave us nickles and dimes at times. + +Alexander Stephens wuz crippled. He was a little fellow--slim, dark hair +and blue eyes. Always used a rolling chair. Marse Frank would see him at +least once a month. + +I'se saw a red cloud in de west in 1860. I knew war was brewing. Marse +Frank went to war. My uncle was his man and went to war with him--Uncle +brought him back after the battle at Gettsburg--wounded. He died later. +We all loved him. My mistress and her boys ran de plantation. + +The blue-coats came to our place in '62 and 63. They took everythin' +that was not red-hot or nailed down. The war made no changes--we did the +same work and had plenty to eat. The war was now over. We didn't know we +wuz free until a year later. I'se stayed on with Marse Frank's boys for +twenty years. I'se did the same work fo $35 to $40 a year with rations +thrown in. + +I lived so long because I tells no lies, I never spent more than fifty +cents for a doctor in my life. I believe in whiskey and that kept me +going. And let me tell you--I'se always going to be a nigger till I die. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex. Slave #13] + +AN INTERVIEW ON SLAVERY OBTAINED FROM +MRS. SARAH BYRD--EX-SLAVE + + +Mrs. Sarah Byrd claims to be 95 years of age but the first impression +one receives when looking at her is that of an old lady who is very +active and possessing a sweet clear voice. When she speaks you can +easily understand every word and besides this, each thought is well +expressed. Often during the interview she would suddenly break out in a +merry laugh as if her own thoughts amused her. + +Mrs. Sarah Byrd was born in Orange County Virginia the youngest of three +children. During the early part of her childhood her family lived in +Virginia her mother Judy Newman and father Sam Goodan each belonging to +a different master. Later on the family became separated the father was +sold to a family in East Tennessee and the mother and children were +bought by Doctor Byrd in Augusta, Georgia. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked +"Chile in them days so many families were broke up and some went one way +and der others went t'other way; and you nebber seed them no more. +Virginia wuz a reg'lar slave market." + +Dr. Byrd owned a large plantation and raised such products as peas +potatoes, cotton corn (etc). There were a large number of slaves. Mrs. +Byrd was unable to give the exact number but remarked. "Oh Lordy Chile I +nebber could tell just how many slaves that man had t'wuz too many uv +em." + +The size of the plantation required that the slaves be classified +according to the kind of work each was supposed to do. There were the +"cotton pickers", the "plow hands," the "hoe hands," the "rail +splitters," etc. "My very fust job," remarked Mrs. Byrd, "wuz that uv +cotton picking." Mrs Byrd's mother was a full [TR: field?] hand. + +Houses on the Byrd Plantation were made of logs and the cracks were +daubed with mud. The chimnies were made of mud and supported by sticks. + +Each fireplace varied in length from 3 to 4 feet because they serve the +purpose of stoves; and the family meals were prepared in those large +fireplaces often two and three pots were suspended from a rod running +across the fireplace. Most of the log houses consisted of one room; +however if the family was very large two rooms were built. The +furnishings consisted only of a home-made table, benches, and a +home-made bed, the mattress of which was formed by running ropes from +side to side forming a framework. Mattresses were made by filling a tick +with wheatstraw. The straw was changed each season. Laughing Mrs. Byrd +remarked, "Yessirree, them houses wuz warmer than some are ter day." + +Doctor Byrd was rather kind and tried to help his slaves as much as +possible, but according to Mrs. Byrd his wife was very mean and often +punished her slaves without any cause. She never gave them anything but +the coarsest foods. Although there of plenty of milk and butter, she +only gave it to the families after it had soured. "Many a day I have +seed butter just sittin around in pans day after day till it got good +and spoiled then she would call some uv us and give it ter us. Oh she +wuz a mean un," remarked Mrs. Byrd. Continuing Mrs. Byrd remarked "she +would give us bread that had been cooked a week." Mr. Byrd gave his +slave families good clothes. Twice a year clothing was distributed among +his families. Every June summer clothes were given and every October +winter clothes were given. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked "I nebber knowed what +it wuz not ter have a good pair uv shoes." Cloth for the dresses and +shirts was spun on the plantation by the slaves. + +The treatment of the slaves is told in Mrs. Byrd's own words: + +"We wuz always treated nice by Master Byrd and he always tried ter save +us punishment at the hands uv his wife but that 'oman wuz somethin' +nother. I nebber will ferget once she sent me after some brush broom and +told me ter hurry back. Well plums wuz jest gitting ripe so I just took +my time and et all the plums I wanted after that I come on back ter the +house. When I got there she called me upstairs, 'Sarah come here.' Up +the steps I went and thar she stood with that old cow hide. She struck +me three licks and I lost my balance and tumbled backward down the +stairs. I don't know how come I didn't hurt myself but the Lord wuz wid +me and I got up and flew. I could hear her just hollering 'Come back +here! come back here!' but I ant stop fer nothing. That night at supper +while I wuz fanning the flies from the table she sed ter the doctor. +'Doctor what you think? I had ter whip that little devil ter day. I sent +her after brush broom and she went off and eat plums instead of hurrying +back.' The doctor just looked at her and rolled his eyes but never sed a +word. There wuz very little whipping on Byrd's plantation, but I have +gone ter bed many a night and heard 'em gittin whipped on the plantation +next ter us. If dey runned away they would put the hounds on 'em." +Concluding her story on treatmeant Mrs. Byrd remarked "Yessirree I could +tell that 'oman wuz mean the first time I seed her after we came from +Virginia cause she had red eyes." "Pader rollers" stayed busy all the +time trying to find slaves off their plantations without passes. +Marriages were performed by having the couple jump the broom. If the +[TR: 'couple' deleted, handwritten words above illegible] belonged to +different masters oftentimes one master would purchase the other; but +should neither wish to sell the man would then have to get passes to +visit his wife on her plantation. "Dey would leave the plantation on +Saturday afternoons and on Sunday afternoon you could see 'em coming in +just lak they wuz coming from church," remarked Mrs. Byrd. + +There were frolics on the Byrd plantation any time that the slaves chose +to have them. "Yes sir we could frolic all we want ter. I use ter be so +glad when Saturday night came cause I knowed us wuz go have a frolic and +I wouldn't have a bit 'uv appetite I would tell my ma we gwine dance ter +night I dont want nothin teet. Yes sir us would frolic all night long +sometimes when the sun rise on Sunday morning us would all be layin +round or settin on the floor. They made music on the banjo, by knocking +bones, and blowing quills." + +The Byrds did not provide a church on their plantation for their slaves +neither were they allowed to attend the white church; instead they had +prayer meetings in their own cabins where they could sing pray and shout +as much as they wished. "I nebber will fergit the last prayer meeting us +had," remarked Mrs. Byrd. "Two woman named Ant Patsy and Ant Prudence +came over from the next plantation. I believed they slipped over there +wid out gittin a pass. Anyway, they old master came there and whipped +'em and made 'em go home. I reckin he thought us wuz praying ter git +free." Continuing-- + +I nebber will fergit the fust time I set eyes on them thar Yankees. I +done already heard 'bout how they wuz going round ter the different +plantations taking the horses and carrying away the money and other +valuable things, but they had nebber come ter our place. So this day I +saw 'em coming cross the railroad track and they look jest lack thunder +there wuz so meny 'uv em. When they got ter our house every body wuz +sleep and they knocked and knocked. We had a bad dog that didn't take no +foolishness off nobody, so when he kept barking them Yankees cursed him +and do you know he heshed up? I sid, 'Dear Lord what sort of man is that +all he got ter do is curse that dog and he don't even growl.' Well, when +they finally got in all they wanted wuz ter know if Mr. Byrd could help +feed the soldiers until Monday. Mr. Byrd told 'em he would. Soon after +that the war ended and we wuz called ter gether and told us wuz free. +Some uv'em stayed there and some uv'em left. Us left and moved ter +another plantation." + +Mrs. Byrd who had previously given the writer an interview on folk-lore +asked the writer to return at a later date and she would try to think up +more information concerning superstitions, conjure, etc. The writer +thanked her for the interview and promised to make another visit soon. + + + + +Ex-Slave #18 + +INTERVIEW WITH (MRS.) MARIAH CALLAWAY EX-SLAVE + +[TR: A significant portion of this interview was repeated in typescript; +where there was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used. Where a +completely different word was substituted, 'the original' refers to the +typewritten page.] + + +Mrs. Mariah Callaway sat in a chair opposite the writer and told her +freely of the incidents of slavery as she remembered them. To a casual +observer it will come as a surprise to know the woman was blind. She is +quite old, but her thoughts were clearly and intelligently related to +the writer. + +Mrs. Callaway was born in Washington, Wilkes County, Georgia probably +during the year 1852, as she estimated her age to be around 12 or 13 +years when freedom was declared. She does not remember her mother and +father, as her mother died the second day after she was born, so the job +of rearing her and a small brother fell on her grandmother, Mariah +Willis, for whom she was named. Mrs. Callaway stated that the old +master, Jim Willis, kept every Negro's age in a Bible: but after he died +the Bible was placed upstairs in the gallery and most of the pages were +destroyed. The following is a story of the purchase of Mrs. Callaway's +grandfather as related by her. + +"My grandfather come directly from Africa and I never shall forget the +story he told us of how he and other natives were fooled on board a ship +by the white slave traders using red handkerchiefs as enticement. When +they reached America, droves of them were put on the block and sold to +people all over the United States. + +The master and mistress of their plantation were Mr. Jim Willis and Mrs. +Nancy Willis who owned hundreds of acres of land and a large number of +slaves. Mrs. Callaway was unable to give an exact number but stated the +Willises were considered wealthy people. On their plantation were raised +sheep, goats, mules, horses, cows, etc. Cotton, corn and vegetables were +also raised. The Willis family was a large one consisting of six +children. 4 boys and 2 girls. Their home was a large two-story frame +house which was set apart from the slave quarters. + +Slave homes on the Willis plantation differed in no respect from the +usual type found elsewhere. All homes were simple log cabins grouped +together, forming what is known as slave quarters. + +The Willis family as kind and religious and saw to it that their slaves +were given plenty of food to eat. Every Monday night each family was +given its share of food for the week. Each grown person was given a peck +of corn [TR: meal on original page] and three pounds of meat; besides +the vegetables, etc. On Tuesday morning each family was given an ample +amount of real flour for biscuits. + +Many of the slave families, especially Mrs. Callaway's family, were +given the privilege of earning money by selling different products. "My +grandfather owned a cotton patch," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "and the +master would loan him a mule so he could plow it at night. Two boys +would each hold a light for him to work by. He preferred working at +night to working on his holidays. My master had a friend in Augusta, +Ga., by the name of Steve Heard and just before my grandfather got ready +to sell his cotton, the master would write Mr. Heard and tell him that +he was sending cotton by Sam and wanted his sold and a receipt returned +to him. He also advised him to give all the money received to Sam. When +grandfather returned he would be loaded down with sugar, cheese, tea, +mackerel, etc. for his family." + +When the women came home from the fields they had to spin 7 cuts, so +many before supper and so many after supper. A group of women were then +selected to weave the cuts of thread into cloth. Dyes were made from red +shoe berries and later used to dye this cloth different colors. All +slaves received clothing twice a year, spring and winter. Mr. Jim Willis +was known for his kindness to his slaves and saw to it that they were +kept supplied with Sunday clothes and shoes as well as work clothing. A +colored shoemaker was required to keep the plantation supplied with +shoes; and everyone was given a pair of Sunday shoes which they kept +shined with a mixture of egg white and soot. + +The size of the Willis Plantation and the various crops and cattle +raised required many different types of work. There were the plow hands, +the hoe hands, etc. Each worker had a required amount of work to +complete each day and an overseer was hired by slave owners to keep +check on this phase of the work. "We often waited until the overseer got +behind a hill, and then we would lay down our hoe and call on God to +free us, my grandfather told me," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "However, I +was a pet in the Willis household and did not have any work to do except +play with the small children. I was required to keep their hands and +faces clean. Sometimes I brought in chips to make the fires. We often +kept so much noise playing in the upstairs bedroom that the master would +call to us and ask that we keep quiet." Older women on the plantation +acted as nurses for all the small children and babies while their +parents worked in the fields. The mistress would keep a sharp eye on the +children also to see that they were well cared for. A slave's life was +very valuable to their owners. + +Punishment was seldom necessary on the Willis plantation as the master +and mistress did everything possible to make their slaves happy; and to +a certain extent indulged them. They were given whisky liberally from +their master's still; and other choice food on special occasions. "I +remember once," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "my aunt Rachel burned the +biscuits and the young master said to her, "Rachel, you nursed me and I +promised not to ever whip you, so don't worry about burning the bread." +My mistress was very fond of me, too, and gave me some of everything +that she gave her own children, tea cakes, apples, etc. She often told +me that she was my mother and was supposed to look after me. In spite of +the kindness of the Willis family there were some slaves who were +unruly; so the master built a house off to itself and called it the +Willis jail. Here he would keep those whom he had to punish. I have +known some slaves to run away on other plantations and the hounds would +bite plugs out of their legs." + +The Willis family did not object to girls and boys courting. There were +large trees, and often in the evenings the boys from other plantations +would come over to see the girls on the Willis plantation. They would +stand in groups around the trees, laughing and talking. If the courtship +reached the point of marriage a real marriage ceremony was performed +from the Bible and the man was given a pass to visit his wife weekly. +Following a marriage a frolic took place and the mistress saw to it that +everyone was served nice foods for the occasion. + +Frolics were common occurrences on the Willis plantation, also quilting +parties. Good foods consisting of pies, cakes, chicken, brandied +peaches, etc. "Dancing was always to be expected by anyone attending +them," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "Our master always kept two to three +hundred gallons of whisky and didn't mind his slaves drinking. I can +remember my master taking his sweetened dram every morning, and often he +gave me some in a tumbler. On Christmas Day big dinners were given for +all of the slaves and a few ate from the family's table after they had +finished their dinner." + +Medical care was promptly given a slave when he became ill. Special care +was always given them for the Willis family had a personal interest in +their slaves. "On one occasion," remarked Mrs. Calloway, "the scarlet +fever broke out among the slaves and to protect the well ones it became +necessary to build houses in a field for those who were sick. This +little settlement later became know as "Shant Field." Food was carried +to a hill and left so that the sick persons could get it without coming +in contact with the others. To kill the fever, sticks of fat pine were +dipped in tar and set on fire and then placed all over the field." + +Religion played as important part in the lives of the slaves, and such +[TR: much?] importance was attached to their prayer meetings. There were +no churches, provided and occasionally they attended the white churches; +but more often they held their prayer meetings in their own cabins. +Prayers and singing was in a moaning fashion, and you often heard this +and nothing more. On Sunday afternoons everyone found a seat around the +mulberry tree and the young mistress would conduct Sunday School. + +Concerning the Civil War, Mrs. Callaway related the following story: + +"When the war broke out my mistress' home became a sewing center and +deifferent women in the neighborhood would come there every day to make +clothes for the soldiers. On each bed was placed the vests, coats, +shirts, pants, and caps. One group did all the cutting, one the +stitching, and one the fitting. Many women cried while they served [TR: +sewed?] heart-broken because their husbands and sons had to go to the +war. One day the Yanks came to our plantation and took all of the best +horses. In one of their wagons were bales of money which they had taken. +Money then was blue in color; of course, there was silver and gold. +After taking the horses they drank as much whisky as they could hold and +then filled their canteens. The rest of the whisky they filled with +spit. The master didn't interfere for fear of the long guns which they +carried." + +After the war some of the slaves left the plantation to seek their +fortune; others remained, renting land from the Willis family or working +with them on a share crop basis. + +As a conclusion Mrs. Callaway remarked: "My folks were good and I know +[HW: they're] in heaven." Mrs. Callaway is deeply religious and all +during the interview would constantly drift to the subject of religion. +She is well cared for by her nine children, six girls and three boys. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +SUSAN CASTLE, Age 78 +1257 W. Hancock Ave. +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Augusta, Georgia + + +On a beautiful morning in April, the interviewer found Susan sitting in +the door of her cabin. When asked if she would like to talk about the +old plantation days, she replied; "Yes Ma'am, I don't mind tellin' what +I know, but for dat I done forgot I sho' ain't gwine make nothin' up. +For one thing, I ain't never lived on no plantation. I was a house +servant in town." She added: "Do you mind me axin' you one favor?" +Consent was given and she continued: "Dat is, please don't call me Aunt +Susan; it makes me feel lak I was a hundred years old. + +"I was borned in Clarke County, March 7, 1860; I believes dat's what dey +say. Mudder was named Fannie and Pappy's name was Willis. Us chillun +called 'im Pappy lak he was de onliest one in de world. He fust belonged +to Marse Maxwell of Savannah, Georgia. I was so little I disremembers +how Pappy come by de name of Castle. In all de seben of us chillun, I +didn't have but one brudder, and his name was Johnny. My five sisters +was Mary, Louvenia, Rosa, Fannie, and Sarah. All I 'members 'bout us as +chilluns was dat us played lak chilluns will do. + +"In de quarters us had old timey beds and cheers, but I'll tell you whar +I slept most times. Hit was on a cot right at de foot of Mist'ess' bed. +I stayed at de big house most of de time at night, and 'fore bedtime I +sot close by Mist'ess on a foot stool she had special for me. + +"All I ricollects 'bout my gran'ma was she belonged to General Thomas +R.R. Cobb, and us called 'im Marse Thomas. Gran'ma Susan wouldn't do +right so Marse Thomas sold her on de block. + +"Us had evvything good to eat. Marse Thomas was a rich man and fed 'is +Niggers well. Dey cooked in a big open fireplace and biled greens and +some of de udder vittals in a great big pot what swung on a rack. Meat, +fish and chickens was fried in a griddle iron what was sot on a flat +topped trivet wid slits to let de fire thoo. Dey called it a trivet +'cause it sot on three legs and hot coals was raked up under it. Hoe +cakes made out of cornmeal and wheat flour sho' was good cooked on dat +griddle. 'Tatoes was roasted in de ashes, and dey cooked bread what dey +called ash cake in de ashes. Pound cake, fruit cake, light bread and +biscuits was baked in a great big round pot, only dey warn't as deep as +de pots dey biled in; dese was called ovens. Makes me hongry to think +'bout all dem good vittals now. + +"Oh! Yes Ma'am, us had plenty 'possums. Pappy used to cotch so many +sometimes he jest put 'em in a box and let us eat 'em when us got ready. +'Possums tasted better atter dey was put up in a box and fattened a +while. Us didn't have many rabbits; dey warn't as much in style den as +dey is now, and de style of eatin' 'possums lak dey done in slav'ry +times, dat is 'bout over. Dey eats 'em some yet, but it ain't stylish no +mo'. Us chillun used to go fishin' in Moore's Branch; one would stand on +one side of de branch wid a stick, and one on de udder side would roust +de fishes out. When dey come to de top and jump up, us would hit 'em on +de head, and de grown folks would cook 'em. Dere warn't but one gyarden, +but dat had plenty in it for evvybody. + +"In summer time us wore checkedy dresses made wid low waistes and +gethered skirts, but in winter de dresses was made out of linsey-woolsey +cloth and underclothes was made out of coarse unbleached cloth. +Petticoats had bodice tops and de draw's was made wid waistes too. Us +chillun didn't know when Sunday come. Our clothes warn't no diffu'nt den +from no udder day. Us wore coarse, heavy shoes in winter, but in summer +us went splatter bar feets. + +"Marse Thomas was jest as good as he could be, what us knowed of 'im. +Miss Marion, my Mist'ess, she won't as good to us as Marse Thomas, but +she was all right too. Dey had a heap of chillun. Deir twin boys died, +and de gals was Miss Callie, Miss Sallie, Miss Marion (dey called her +Miss Birdie), and Miss Lucy, dat Lucy Cobb Institute was named for. My +mudder was Miss Lucy's nuss. Marse Thomas had a big fine melonial +(colonial) house on Prince Avenue wid slave quarters in de back yard of +his 10-acre lot. He owned 'most nigh dat whole block 'long dar. + +"Oh! dey had 'bout a hundred slaves I'm sho', for dere was a heap of +'em. De overseer got 'em up 'bout five o'clock in de mornin' and dat +breakfust sho' had better be ready by seben or else somebody gwine to +have to pay for it. Dey went to deir cabins 'bout ten at night. Marse +was good, but he would whup us if we didn't do right. Miss Marion was +allus findin' fault wid some of us. + +"Jesse was de car'iage driver. Car'iages was called phaetons den. Dey +had high seats up in front whar de driver sot, and de white folks sot in +de car'iage below. Jesse went to de War wid Marse Thomas, and was wid +him when he was kilt at Fred'ricksburg, Virginia. I heard 'em sey one of +his men shot 'im by mistake, but I don't know if dat's de trufe or not. +I do know dey sho' had a big grand fun'al 'cause he was a big man and a +general in de War. + +"Some of de slaves on Marse Thomas' place knowed how to read. Aunt Vic +was one of de readers what read de Bible. But most of de Niggers didn't +have sense enough to learn so dey didn't bother wid 'em. Dey had a +church way downtown for de slaves. It was called Landon's Chapel for +Rev. Landon, a white man what preached dar. Us went to Sunday School +too. Aunt Vic read de Bible sometimes den. When us jined de chu'ch dey +sung: 'Amazing Grace How Sweet de Sound.' + +"Marse Thomas had lots of slaves to die, and dey was buried in de +colored folks cemetery what was on de river back of de Lucas place. I +used to know what dey sung at fun'als way back yonder, but I can't bring +it to mind now. + +"No Ma'am, none of Marse Thomas' Niggers ever run away to de Nawth. He +was good to his Niggers. Seems lak to me I 'members dem patterollers run +some of Marse Thomas' Niggers down and whupped 'em and put 'em in jail. +Old Marse had to git 'em out when dey didn't show up at roll call next +mornin'. + +"Marse Thomas allus put a man or de overseer on a hoss or a mule when he +wanted to send news anywhar. He was a big man and had too many slaves to +do anything hisse'f. + +"I 'spect dey done den lak dey does now, slipped 'round and got in +devilment atter de day's wuk was done. Marse Thomas was allus havin' +swell elegant doin's at de big house. De slaves what was house servants +didn't have no time off only atter dinner on Sundays. + +"Christmas was somepin' else. Us sho' had a good time den. Dey give de +chilluns china dolls and dey sont great sacks of apples, oranges, candy, +cake, and evvything good out to de quarters. At night endurin' Christmas +us had parties, and dere was allus some Nigger ready to pick de banjo. +Marse Thomas allus give de slaves a little toddy too, but when dey was +havin' deir fun if dey got too loud he sho' would call 'em down. I was +allus glad to see Christmas come. On New Year's Day, de General had big +dinners and invited all de high-falutin' rich folks. + +"My mudder went to de corn shuckin's off on de plantations, but I was +too little to go. Yes Ma'am, us sho' did dance and sing funny songs way +back in dem days. Us chillun used to play 'Miss Mary Jane,' and us would +pat our hands and walk on broom grass. I don't know nothin' 'bout +charms. Dey used to tell de chillun dat when old folks died dey turned +to witches. I ain't never seed no ghostes, but I sho' has felt 'em. Dey +made de rabbits jump over my grave and had me feelin' right cold and +clammy. Mudder used to sing to Miss Lucy to git her to sleep, but I +don't 'member de songs. + +"Marster was mighty good to his slaves when dey got sick. He allus sont +for Dr. Crawford Long. He was de doctor for de white folks and Marster +had him for de slaves. + +"My mudder said she prayed to de Lord not to let Niggers be slaves all +deir lifes and sho' 'nough de yankees comed and freed us. Some of de +slaves shouted and hollered for joy when Miss Marion called us togedder +and said us was free and warn't slaves no more. Most of 'em went right +out and left 'er and hired out to make money for deyselfs. + +"I stayed on wid my mudder and she stayed on wid Miss Marion. Miss +Marion give her a home on Hull Street 'cause mudder was allus faithful +and didn't never leave her. Atter Miss Marion died, mudder wukked for +Miss Marion's daughter, Miss Callie Hull, in Atlanta. Den Miss Callie +died and mudder come on back to Athens. 'Bout ten years ago she died. + +"I wukked for Mrs. Burns on Jackson Street a long time, but she warn't +no rich lady lak de Cobbs. De last fambly I wukked for was Dr. Hill. I +nussed 'til atter de chillun got too big for dat, and den I done de +washin' 'til dis misery got in my limbs." + +When asked about marriage customs, she laughed and replied: "I was +engaged, but I didn't marry though, 'cause my mudder 'posed me marryin'. +I had done got my clothes bought and ready. Mrs. Hull helped me fix my +things. My dress was a gray silk what had pearl beads on it and was +trimmed in purple. + +"What does I think 'bout freedom? I think it's best to be free, 'cause +you can do pretty well as you please. But in slav'ry time if de Niggers +had a-behaved and minded deir Marster and Mist'ess dey wouldn't have had +sich a hard time. Mr. Jeff Davis 'posed freedom, but Mr. Abraham Lincoln +freed us, and he was all right. Booker Washin'ton was a great man, and +done all he knowed how to make somepin' out of his race. + +"De reason I jined de church was dat de Lord converted me. He is our +guide. I think people ought to be 'ligious and do good and let deir +lights shine 'cause dat's de safest way to go to Heben." + +At the conclusion of the interview Susan asked: "Is dat all you gwine to +ax me? Well, I sho' enjoyed talkin' to you. I hopes I didn't talk loud +'nough for dem other Niggers to hear me, 'cause if you open your mouth +dey sho' gwine tell it. Yes Ma'am, I'se too old to wuk now and I'se +thankful for de old age pension. If it warn't for dat, since dis misery +tuk up wid me, I would be done burnt up, I sho' would. Good-bye +Mist'ess." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 2 +Ex-Slave #17] + +ELLEN CLAIBOURN +808 Campbell Street +(Richmond County) +Augusta, Georgia + +By: +(Mrs.) Margaret Johnson--Editor +Federal Writers' Project +Dist. 2 +Augusta, Ga. + + +Ellen was born August 19, 1852, on the plantation of Mr. Hezie Boyd in +Columbia County, her father being owned by Mr. Hamilton on an adjoining +plantation. She remembers being given, at the age of seven, to her young +mistress, Elizabeth, who afterward was married to Mr. Gabe Hendricks. At +her new home she served as maid, and later as nurse. The dignity of her +position as house servant has clung to her through the years, forming +her speech in a precision unusual in her race. + +"I 'member all our young marsters was drillin' way back in 1860, an' the +Confed'rate War did not break out till in April 1861. My mistis' young +husband went to the war, an' all the other young marsters 'round us. +Young marster's bes' friend came to tell us all goodby, an' he was +killed in the first battle he fought in. + +"Befo' the war, when we was little, we mostly played dolls, and had doll +houses, but sometime young marster would come out on the back porch and +play the fiddle for us. When he played 'Ole Dan Tucker' all the peoples +uster skip and dance 'bout and have a good time. My young mistis played +on the piano. + +"My granpa was so trusty and hon'able his old marster give him and +granma they freedom when he died. He give him a little piece of land and +a mule, and some money, and tole him he didn't b'long to nobody, and +couldn't work for nobody 'cept for pay. He couldn't free granpa's +chilrun, 'cause they already b'longed to their young marsters and +mistises. He worked for Mr. Hezie Boyd one year as overseer, but he say +he didn't wanter lose his religion trying to make slaves work, so he +took to preaching. He rode 'bout on his mule and preach at all the +plantations. I never 'member seein' granma, but granpa came to see us +of'en. He wore a long tail coat and a _big_ beaver hat. In that hat +granma had always pack a pile of ginger cakes for us chilrun. They was +big an' thick, an' longish, an' we all stood 'round to watch him take +off his hat. Every time he came to see us, granma sent us clothes and +granpa carried 'em in his saddle bags. You ever see any saddle bags, +ma'am? Well they could sho' hold a heap of stuff! + +"My pa uster come two or three times a week to our plantashun, an' just +so he was back by sun-up for work, nobody didn't say nothin' to him. He +just lived 'bout three or four miles way from us. + +"Yes ma'am we went to church, and the white preachers preached for us. +We sat in the back of the church just like we sits in the back of the +street cars now-days. Some of the house servants would go one time and +some another. All the hands could go but ev'rybody had to has a pass, to +sho' who they b'long to. + +"Yes ma'am, the slaves was whipped if they didn't do they taskwork, or +if they steal off without a pass, but if our marster found a overseer +whipped the slaves overmuch he would git rid of him. We was always +treated good and kind and well cared for, and we was happy. + +"No ma'am, no overseer ever went to marster's table, or in the house +'cept to speak to marster. Marster had his overseers' house and give 'em +slaves to cook for 'em and wait on 'em, but they never go anywhere with +the fam'ly. + +"The house servants' houses was better than the fiel'-hands'--and +Marster uster buy us cloth from the 'Gusta Fact'ry in checks and plaids +for our dresses, but all the fiel'-hands clothes was made out of cloth +what was wove on mistis' own loom. Sometime the po' white folks in the +neighborhood would come an' ask to make they cloth on mistis' loom, and +she always let 'em. + +"Yes, ma'am, we had seamsters to make all the clothes for everybody, and +mistis had a press-room, where all the clothes was put away when they +was finished. When any body needed clothes mistis would go to the +press-room an' get 'em. + +"During the war mistis had one room all fixed up to take care of sick +soldiers. They would come stragglin' in, all sick or shot, an' sometimes +we had a room full of 'em. Mistis had one young boy to do nothin' but +look after 'em and many's the night I got up and helt the candle for 'em +to see the way to the room. + +"Oh my Gawd, I saw plenty wounded soldiers. We was right on the road to +Brightsboro, and plenty of 'em pass by. That Confed'rate war was the +terriblest, awfullest thing. + +"Nobody but me knowed where mistis buried her gold money and finger +rings and ear-rings and breat-pins. [TR: breast-pins?] I helt the candle +then, too. Mistis and marster, (he was home then) an' me went down back +of the grape arbor to the garden-house. Marster took up some planks, an' +dug a hole like a grabe and buried a big iron box with all them things +in it; then he put back the planks. Nobody ever found 'em, and after the +war was over we went and got 'em. + +"Yes, ma'am, everybody did they own work. De cook cooked, and the +washer, she didn't iron no clothes. De ironer did that. De housemaid +cleaned up, and nurse tended the chilrun. Then they was butlers and +coachmen. Oh, they was a plenty of us to do eve'ything. + +"We didn't have a stove, just a big fire place, and big oven on both +sides, and long-handle spiders. When we was fixin' up to go to Camp +Meeting to the White Oak Camp meeting grounds, they cooked chickens and +roasted pigs, and put apples in they mouth and a lot of other food--good +food too. De food peoples eat these days, you couldn't have got _nobody_ +to eat. Camp Meetin' was always in August and September. It was a good +Methodis' meetin', and eve'ybody got religion. Sometimes a preacher +would come to visit at the house, an' all the slaves was called an' he +prayed for 'em. Sometimes the young ones would laugh, an' then marster +would have 'em whipped. + +"My young mistis had a sister older than her. She married Mr. Artie +Boyd, an' they had a big weddin' but she loved her home and her mother +and father so much she wouldn't leave home. She just stayed on living +there. When her baby come she died, and I tell you, ma'am, her fun'al +was most like a weddin', with so many people an' so many flowers. All +the people from the plantashun came to the house, an' the wimmen had +they babies in they arms. One the ladies say, "How come they let all +these niggers and babies come in the house?" But marster knowed all us +loved mistis, and he call us in. Marse Artie he wrote a long letter an' +all the things he got from mistis he give back to her fam'ly an' all his +own things he give to his brother, an' then he died. Some say his heart +strings just broke 'cause mistis died, and some say he took something. + +"No, ma'am, I wasn't married till after freedom. I was married right +here in 'Gusta by Mr. Wharton, the First Baptist Church preacher, an' I +lived and worked here ever since." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 7 +Ex-Slave #19] +Adella S. Dixon +District 7 + +BERRY CLAY +OLD SLAVE STORY +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Telfair County was the home of some colored people who never were +slaves, but hired their services for wages just as the race does today. +Berry Clay, half Indian, half white, was the son of Fitema Bob Britt, a +full blood Indian, who died shortly after his son's birth. His mother +later married William Clay, whose name was taken by the children as well +as the mother. The family then moved to Macon. + +Clay, next [TR: 'to the' scratched out] oldest of five children was 89 +years old on August 5, 1936, and while he was never a slave, remembers +many incidents that took place then. Not many years after his mother +remarried, she became very ill and he recalls being lifted by his +step-father to kiss her good bye as she lay dying. After her death, the +family continued to live in South Macon where the father was employed as +overseer for a crew at the Railroad yard. + +This position often called for the punishment of slaves but he was too +loyal to his color to assist in making their lives more unhappy. His +method of carrying out orders and yet keeping a clear conscience was +unique--the slave was taken to the woods where he was supposedly laid +upon a log and severely beaten. Actually, he was made to stand to one +side and to emit loud cries which were accompanied by hard blows on the +log. The continuation of the two sounds gave any listener the impression +that some one was severely beaten. It is said that Clay, the father, +wore out several huge leather straps upon logs but that he was never +known to strike a slave. + +Mr. Wadley, by whom he was employed, was a well-known Macon citizen who +served as President of the Central of Georgia Railroad for many years. A +monument on Mulberry Street nearly opposite the Post Office is a +constant reminder of the esteem in which he was held. His plantation was +a huge one extending from the Railroad yard as far as the present site +of Mercer University. A day of rest was given the slaves about once +every three months in addition to the regular holidays which are +observed today. On holidays, "frolics" at which square dances were the +chief form of entertainment (by the music of a banjo or fiddle) were +enjoyed. Ring games were played by the children. The refreshments +usually consisted of ash cakes and barbecue. The ash cake was made by +wrapping corn pones in oak leaves and burying the whole in hot ashes. +When the leaves dried, the cake was usually done and was carefully moved +to prevent its becoming soiled. [HW: A] skillful cook could produce +cakes that were a golden brown and not at all ashy. + +The membership of the local church was composed of slaves from several +plantations. It was an old colored church with a white minister who +preached the usual doctrine of the duty of a slave to his master. The +form of service was the same as that of the white church. One unusual +feature of the plantation was its Sunday School for the Negro children. + +Courtships were very brief for as soon as a man or woman began to +manifest interest in the opposite sex, the master busied himself to +select a wife or husband and only in rare cases was the desire of the +individual considered. When the selection was made, the master read the +ceremony and gave the couple a home. He always requested, or rather +demanded, that they be fruitful. A barren woman was separated from her +husband and usually sold. + +Very little money was handled by these people. The carriage drivers were +more fortunate than the regular workers for they smuggled things to town +when they drove the master and mistress and sold them while the family +shopped or went visiting. At rare intervals, the field hands were able +to earn small sums of money in this manner. + +Food was provided by the owners and all families cooked for themselves +whether they were many or one. The weekly allotments of meal, meat, +etc., were supplemented through the use of vegetables which could always +be obtained from the fields. On special days chicken or beef was given +and each one had a sufficient amount for his needs. Hunting and fishing +were recreations in which the slaves were not allowed to participate +although they frequently went on secret excursions of this nature. All +food stuff as well as cloth for garments was produced at home. + +Clay is very superstitious, still believing in most of the signs +commonly believed in those days, because he has "watched them and found +that they are true". He stated that the screeching of the owl may be +stopped by placing a poker in the fire and allowing it to remain until +it becomes red hot. The owl will then leave, but death will invariably +follow its visit. + +The attitudes of the two races in the South regarding the war were +directly opposite. The whites beheld it as something horrible and +dreaded the losses that would necessarily be theirs. Sons and fathers +had property to be considered, but they were generous in their +contributions to the soldiers. On the other hand, the slaves rejoiced as +they looked forward to their freedom when the war was over. There were, +however, a few who were devoted to their masters to the extent that they +fought in their stead in the Confederate Army. Others remained at home +and skillfully ran the plantation and protected the women and children +until the end of the war. + +When Sherman made his famous "March to Sea", one phalanx of his army +wrought its destruction between this city and Griswoldville. A gun +factory and government shoe factory were completely destroyed. Although +the citizens gave the invaders everything they thought they desired, the +rest was destroyed in most instances. They tried to ascertain the +attitudes of the land owners toward his servants and when for any reason +they presumed that one was cruel, their vengeance was expressed through +the absolute destruction of his property. In nearly every instance smoke +houses were raided and the contents either destroyed or given away. +Barrels of syrup flowing through the yard was a common sight. + +At the end of the war, the South was placed under military rule. The +presence of the Yankee guardsmen had a psychological effect upon the +Southerners and they were very humble. + +Before the terrors of the war had subsided a new menace sprang up--the +Klu Klux Klan. While its energy was usually directed against ex-slaves, +a white man was sometimes a victim. One such occasion was recalled by +Clay. The group planned to visit a man who for some reason became +suspicious and prepared to outwit them if they came. He heated a huge +pot of water and when a part of his door was crashed in he reached +through the opening and poured gourds of boiling water upon his +assailants. They retreated, [HW: and] while they were away, he made his +way to Atlanta. + +Another group which began its operations shortly after the close of the +war was a military clan organized for the purpose of giving the +ex-slaves a knowledge of drilling and war tactics. An order to disband +was received from the "Black Horse Calvary" by the leader of the group. +His life was threatened when he failed to obey so he prepared for a +surprise visit. He fortified his house with twenty-five men on the +inside and the same number outside. When the approaching calvarymen +reached a certain point, the fifty hidden men fired at the same time. +Seven members of the band were killed and many others wounded. There was +no further interference from this group. + +Clay and his father ran a grocery store just after Emancipation. He did +not like this type of work and apprenticed himself to a painter to learn +the trade. He is still considered an excellent painter though he does +not receive much work. + +He has always taken care of himself and never "ran about" at night. He +boasts that his associates never included a dancing woman. As he has +used tobacco for sixty-five years, he does not consider it a menace to +health but states that worry will kill anyone and the man who wants to +live a long time must form the habit of not worrying. His Indian +blood--the high cheek bones, red skin and straight black hair now tinged +with grey make this unmistakable--has probably played a large part in +the length of his life. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 7 +Ex-Slave #22] +Adella S. Dixon +District 7 + +PIERCE CODY +OLD SLAVE STORY +[HW: About 88] +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Pierce Cody was the eldest son of Elbert and Dorothy Cody. His father +was born in Richmond, Virginia, his mother in Warren County. When the +Emancipation Proclamation was signed, he, the eldest child in a large +family, was in his early teens. This group lived on the place owned by +Mr. Bob Cody, [HW: whose] family was a group of ardent believers in the +Hardshell Baptist faith. So firm was their faith that a church of this +denomination was provided for the slaves and each one required to become +a member. A white minister invariably preached the then worn out +doctrine of a slave's duty to his master, the reward of faithfulness and +the usual admonition against stealing. + +The members of this church were required to fast on one day of the week, +the fast lasting all day until seven in the evening. The small boys, +both white and colored, resenting the abstinence from food, usually +secured a reserve supply which was cached during the week and secretly +enjoyed on fast day. Fish were plentiful in all the streams and they +sometimes sneaked away to the river and after enjoying the sport, cooked +their catch on the banks of the stream. + +Groups of ministers--30 to 40--then traveled from one plantation to +another spreading the gospel, and were entertained as they traveled. On +one occasion the group arrived at the Cody estate on fast day. The boys +having been on one of their secret fishing trips had caught so many +perch that they were not able to consume them on the banks, so had +smuggled them to the kitchen, coaxed the cook to promise to prepare +them, and had also sworn her to absolute secrecy regarding their origin. +Although the kitchen was not directly connected with the "big house", +the guests soon detected the aroma of fresh fish and requested that +they be allowed to partake of this delicacy. When the boys, as well as +the servants, heard this, they became panicky for they feared the wrath +of the master. But the catch was so heartily relished that instead of +the expected punishment, they were commended and allowed to fish on the +next day of fasting. + +As was characteristic of many others, the planter's home was near the +center of a vast estate and in this instance had a tall lookout on the +roof from which the watchman might see for miles around. The "quarters" +were nearby and the care-free children who played in the large yard were +closely watched as they were often stolen by speculators and later sold +at auctions far away. The land was divided into many fields each of +which was used to cultivate a particular product. Each field had its +special crew and overseer. + +Cody's father was [HW: one of the] feeders [HW: who] arose at least two +hours before sunrise, to feed the stock. A large number of horses and +more than two hundred head of cattle had to be fed by sunrise when they +were to be turned into the pastures or driven to the field to begin the +day's work. After sunrise, his father's duty [HW: as] foreman for +plowers began. Other workers were hoe hands, additional foremen, cooks, +weavers, spinners, seamstresses, tailors, shoemakers, etc. As everything +used was grown and made on the estate there was plenty of work for all +and in many instances [HW: slaves] learned trades which they liked and +which furnished a livelihood when they were set free. + +[HW: When he entered his teens] Cody's first duties began [HW: as] a +plowhand who broke "newground." As all of this land was to be plowed, a +lack of skill in making straight furrows did not matter, so beginners +were preferably used. Shortly after he began plowing he was made +foreman of one of the groups. Thus encouraged by his master's faith in +his ability to do a man's work, he assumed a "grown up" attitude under +the stimulus of his new responsibilities and was married shortly after. + +At this time marriages resulted from brief courtships. After the consent +of the girl was obtained, it was necessary to seek permission from the +master, whether she lived on the same or an adjoining plantation. In the +latter case, the marriage rites were performed by her master. The +minister was not used in most instances--the ceremony [HW: being] read +from a testament by the owner of the bride. Marriages were nearly always +performed out of doors in the late afternoon. The bride's wedding dress +was fashioned of cloth made on the plantation from a pattern of her own +designing. Attendants at marriages were rare. After the ceremony, the +guests danced far into the night by music from the fiddle and banjo. +Refreshments consisting of ginger cakes, barbecue, etc., were served. +Such a couple, belonging to two different masters, did not keep house. +The [HW: husband] was allowed to visit his wife on Wednesday night and +Saturday when he might remain through Sunday. All marriage unions were +permanent and a barren wife was considered the only real cause for +separation. + +Church services for this group were held jointly with the white members, +the two audiences being separated by a partition. Gradually, the colored +members became dissatisfied with this type of service and withdrew to +form a separate church. The desire for independence in worship must +necessarily have been strong, to endure the inconveniences of the "brush +arbor" churches that they resorted to. As a beginning, several trees +were felled, and the brush and forked branches separated. Four heavy +branches with forks formed the framework. Straight poles were laid +across these to form a crude imitation of beams and the other framework +of a building. The top and sides were formed of brush which was thickly +placed so that it formed a solid wall. A hole left in one side formed a +doorway from which beaten paths extended in all directions. Seats made +from slabs obtained at local sawmills completed the furnishing. In +inclement weather, it was not possible to conduct services here, but +occasionally showers came in the midst of the service and the audience +calmly hoisted umbrellas or papers and with such scant protection, the +worship continued. + +Sunday afternoons were quietly spent, visiting being the only means of +recreation. One of the favorite stay at home pastimes was the inspection +of heads. The pediculous condition made frequent treatment necessary for +comfort. The young white men liked to visit the "quarters" and have the +slaves search their heads. They would stretch full length upon the cabin +floors and rest their heads upon a pillow. Usually they offered a gift +of some sort if many of the tiny parasites were destroyed, so the clever +picker who found a barren head simply reached into his own and produced +a goodly number. There existed on this plantation an antagonistic +feeling toward children (born of slave parents) with a beautiful suit of +hair, and this type of hair was kept cropped very short. + +Gossip, stealing, etc. was not tolerated. No one was ever encouraged to +"tattle" on another. Locks were never used on any of the cabin doors or +on the smokehouse. Food was there in abundance and each person was free +to replenish his supply as necessary. Money was more or less a novelty +as it was only given in 1¢ pieces at Christmas time. As food, clothing, +and shelter were furnished, the absence was not particularly painful. +Connected with nearly every home were those persons who lived "in the +woods" in preference to doing the labor necessary to remain at their +home. Each usually had a scythe and a bulldog for protection. As food +became scarce, they sneaked to the quarters in the still of the night +and coaxed some friend to get food for them from the smokehouse. Their +supply obtained, they would leave again. This was not considered +stealing. + +Medical care was also free. Excellent physicians were maintained. It was +not considered necessary to call a physician until home +remedies--usually teas made of roots--had had no effect. Women in +childbirth were cared for by grannies,--Old women whose knowledge was +broad by experience, acted as practical nurses. + +Several cooks were regularly maintained. Some cooked for the men who had +no families, others for the members of the big house and guests. The +menus varied little from day to day. A diet of bread--called "shortening +bread,"--vegetables and smoked meat were usually consumed. Buttermilk +was always plentiful. On Sundays "seconds" (flour) were added to the +list and butter accompanied this. Chickens, fresh meat, etc., were +holiday items and were seldom enjoyed at any other time. + +Not only were the slaves required to work but the young men of the "big +house" also had their duties. In the summer they went fishing. While +this sport was enjoyed, it was done on an extremely large scale in order +that everyone should have an adequate supply of fish. The streams +abounded in all kinds of fish, and nets were used to obtain large +quantities necessary. In winter hunting was engaged in for this same +purpose. Rabbits, squirrels, etc., were the usual game, but in addition +the trapping of wild hogs was frequently indulged in. The woods +contained many of these animals which were exceptionally vicious. The +hunters, however, trapped them in much the same way that rabbits are now +caught, without injury to the flesh [TR: 'making the meat more +delicious' marked out]. Deer were also plentiful and venison enjoyed +during its season. Horned snakes were the greatest impediments to more +abundant hunting. + +Knowledge of the war was kept from the slaves until long after its +beginning. Most of them had no idea what "war" meant and any news that +might have been spread, fell on deaf ears. Gradually this knowledge was +imparted by Yankee peddlers who came to the plantation to sell +bed-ticking, etc. When the master discovered how this information was +being given out, these peddlers were forbidden to go near the quarters. +This rule was strictly enforced. + +Eventually, the Confederate soldiers on their way to and from camp began +to stop at the house. Food and everything available was given to them. +Three of Mr. Cody's sons were killed in battle. As the Northern soldiers +did not come near the home, the loss of property was practically +negligible [TR: '--six cents being all' marked out]. + +When the Emancipation Proclamation was signed, the slaves were called to +the "big house" in a group to receive the news that they were free. Both +old and young danced and cheered when this information was given out. +Many of the families remained there for a year or two until they were +able to find desirable locations elsewhere. + +Cody attributes his ability to reach a ripe old age to the excellent +care he took of himself in his youth. He has used tobacco since he was a +small boy and does not feel that it affects his health. Distilled liquor +was plentiful in his young days and he always drank but never to an +excess. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +WILLIS COFER, Age 78 +548 Findley Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Grace McCune +Federal Writers' Project +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens, Ga. + +and +Leila Harris +John N. Booth +Augusta, Georgia +[MAY 6 1938] + + +Willis was enjoying the warm sunshine of an April morning as he sat on +his small porch. Apparently, he was pleased because someone actually +wanted to hear him talk about himself. His rheumatism had been painful +ever since that last bad cold had weakened him, but he felt sure the +sunshine would "draw out all the kinks." Having observed the amenities +in regard to health and weather, the old man proceeded with his story: + +"Eden and Calline Cofer was my pa and ma and us all lived on de big old +Cofer plantation 'bout five miles from Washin'ton, Wilkes. Pa b'longed +to Marse Henry Cofer and ma and us chillun wuz de property of Marse +Henry's father, Marse Joe Cofer. + +"I wuz borned in 1860, and at one time I had three brudders, but Cato +and John died. My oldest brudder, Ben Cofer, is still livin' and +a-preachin' de Gospel somewhar up Nawth. + +"Chilluns did have de bestes' good times on our plantation, 'cause Old +Marster didn't 'low 'em to do no wuk 'til dey wuz 12 years old. Us jus' +frolicked and played 'round de yard wid de white chilluns, but us sho' +did evermore have to stay in dat yard. It wuz de cook's place to boss us +when de other Niggers wuz off in de fields, and evvy time us tried to +slip off, she cotch us and de way dat 'oman could burn us up wid a +switch wuz a caution. + +"Dere warn't no schools for us to go to, so us jes' played 'round. Our +cook wuz all time feedin' us. Us had bread and milk for breakfas', and +dinner wuz mos'ly peas and cornbread, den supper wuz milk and bread. +Dere wuz so many chilluns dey fed us in a trough. Dey jes' poured de +peas on de chunks of cornbread what dey had crumbled in de trough, and +us had to mussel 'em out. Yessum, I said mussel. De only spoons us had +wuz mussel shells what us got out of de branches. A little Nigger could +put peas and cornbread away mighty fast wid a mussel shell. + +"Boys jes' wore shirts what looked lak dresses 'til dey wuz 12 years old +and big enough to wuk in de field. Den dey put 'em on pants made open in +de back. Dem britches would look awful funny now, but dey wuz all us had +den, and all de boys wuz mighty proud when dey got big enough to wear +pants and go to wuk in de fields wid grown folkses. When a boy got to be +a man enough to wear pants, he drawed rations and quit eatin' out of de +trough. + +"All de slave quarters wuz log cabins and little famblies had cabins wid +jes' one room. Old Marster sho' did want to see lots of chilluns 'round +de cabins and all de big famblies wuz 'lowed to live in two-room cabins. +Beds for slaves wuz made by nailing frames, built out of oak or walnut +planks to de sides of de cabins. Dey had two or three laigs to make 'em +set right, and de mattresses wuz filled wid wheat straw. Dere warn't no +sto'-bought stoves den, and all our cookin' wuz done in de fireplace. +Pots wuz hung on iron cranes to bile and big pones of light bread wuz +cooked in ovens on de hearth. Dat light bread and de biscuits made out +of shorts wuz our Sunday bread and dey sho' wuz good, wid our home-made +butter. Us had good old corn bread for our evvyday bread, and dere ain't +nothin' lak corn bread and buttermilk to make healthy Niggers. Dere +wouldn't be so many old sick Niggers now if dey et corn bread evvyday +and let all dis wheat bread and sto'-bought, ready-made bread alone +'cept on Sunday. + +"Dere wuz four or five acres in Marster's big old gyarden, but den it +tuk a big place to raise enough for all de slaves and white folkses too +in de same gyarden. Dere wuz jus' de one gyarden wid plenty of cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, beans, corn, peas, onions, 'taters, and jus' +evvything folkses laked in de way of gyarden sass. Marster never 'lowed +but one smokehouse on his place. It wuz plumb full of meat, and evvy +slave had his meat rations weighed out reg'lar. Dere wuz jes' one dairy +house too whar de slaves got all de milk and butter dey needed. Marster +sho' did b'lieve in seeing dat his Niggers had a plenty to eat. + +"Marster raised lots of chickens and de slaves raised chickens too if +dey wanted to. Marster let 'em have land to wuk for deyselves, but dey +had to wuk it atter dey come out of his fields. All dey made on dis land +wuz deir own to sell and do what dey wanted to wid. Lots of 'em plowed +and hoed by moonlight to make deir own crops. + +"Us used to hear tell of big sales of slaves, when sometimes mammies +would be sold away off from deir chilluns. It wuz awful, and dey would +jes' cry and pray and beg to be 'lowed to stay together. Old Marster +wouldn't do nothin' lak dat to us. He said it warn't right for de +chilluns to be tuk away from deir mammies. At dem sales dey would put a +Nigger on de scales and weigh him, and den de biddin' would start. If +he wuz young and strong, de biddin' would start 'round $150 and de +highest bidder got de Nigger. A good young breedin' 'oman brung $2,000 +easy, 'cause all de Marsters wanted to see plenty of strong healthy +chillun comin' on all de time. Cyarpenters and bricklayers and +blacksmiths brung fancy prices from $3,000 to $5,000 sometimes. A Nigger +what warn't no more'n jes' a good field hand brung 'bout $200. + +"Dem bricklayers made all de bricks out of de red clay what dey had +right dar on most all de plantations, and de blacksmith he had to make +all de iron bars and cranes for de chimblies and fireplaces. He had to +make de plow points too and keep de farm tools all fixed up. Sometimes +at night dey slipped off de place to go out and wuk for money, a-fixin' +chimblies and buildin' things, but dey better not let demselves git +cotched. + +"Mammy wove de cloth for our clothes and de white folkses had 'em made +up. Quilts and all de bed-clothes wuz made out of homespun cloth. + +"De fus' Sadday atter Easter wuz allus a holiday for de slaves. Us wuz +proud of dat day 'cause dat wuz de onlies' day in de year a Nigger could +do 'zactly what he pleased. Dey could go huntin', fishin' or visitin', +but most of 'em used it to put in a good days wuk on de land what +Marster 'lowed 'em to use for deyselves. Some of 'em come to Athens and +help lay bricks on a new buildin' goin' up on Jackson Street. No Ma'am, +I done forgot what buildin' it wuz. + +"Us Niggers went to de white folkses churches. Mr. Louis Williams +preached at de Baptist Church on de fust Sundays, and Meferdiss +(Methodist) meetin's wuz on de second Sundays. Mr. Andy Bowden and Mr. +Scott Cowan wuz two of de Meferdiss preachers. Me and pa jined de +Baptis' Church. Ma wuz jes' a Meferdiss, but us all went to church +together. Dey had de baptizin's at de pool and dere wuz sho' a lot of +prayin' and shoutin' and singin' goin' on while de preacher done de +dippin' of 'em. De onliest one of dem baptizin' songs I can ricollect +now is, _Whar de Healin' Water Flows_. Dey waited 'til dey had a crowd +ready to be baptized and den dey tuk a whole Sunday for it and had a big +dinner on de ground at de church. + +"De sho' 'nough big days wuz dem camp meetin' days. White folkses and +Niggers all went to de same camp meetin's, and dey brung plenty 'long to +eat--big old loafs of light bread what had been baked in de skillets. De +night before dey sot it in de ovens to rise and by mawnin' it had done +riz most to de top of de deep old pans. Dey piled red coals all 'round +de ovens and when dat bread got done it wuz good 'nough for anybody. De +tables wuz loaded wid barbecued pigs and lambs and all de fried chicken +folkses could eat, and all sorts of pies and cakes wuz spread out wid de +other goodies. + +"Evvy plantation gen'ally had a barbecue and big dinner for Fourth of +July, and when sev'ral white famblies went in together, dey did have +high old times tryin' to see which one of 'em could git deir barbecue +done and ready to eat fust. Dey jus' et and drunk all day. No Ma'am, us +didn't know nuffin' 'bout what dey wuz celebratin' on Fourth of July, +'cept a big dinner and a good time. + +"When slaves got married, de man had to ax de gal's ma and pa for her +and den he had to ax de white folkses to 'low 'em to git married. De +white preacher married 'em. Dey hold right hands and de preacher ax de +man: 'Do you take dis gal to do de bes' you kin for her?' and if he say +yes, den dey had to change hands and jump over de broomstick and dey wuz +married. Our white folkses wuz all church folkses and didn't 'low no +dancin' at weddin's but dey give 'em big suppers when deir slaves got +married. If you married some gal on another place, you jus' got to see +her on Wednesday and Sadday nights and all de chilluns b'longed to de +gal's white folkses. You had to have a pass to go den, or de +patterollers wuz sho' to git you. Dem patterollers evermore did beat up +slaves if dey cotched 'em off dey own Marster's place 'thout no pass. If +Niggers could out run 'em and git on deir home lines dey wuz safe. + +"On our place when a slave died dey washed de corpse good wid plenty of +hot water and soap and wropt it in a windin' sheet, den laid it out on +de coolin' board and spread a snow white sheet over de whole business, +'til de coffin wuz made up. De windin' sheet wuz sorter lak a bed sheet +made extra long. De coolin' board wuz made lak a ironin' board 'cept it +had laigs. White folkses wuz laid out dat way same as Niggers. De +coffins wuz made in a day. Dey tuk de measurin' stick and measured de +head, de body, and de footses and made de coffin to fit dese +measurements. If it wuz a man what died, dey put a suit of clothes on +him before dey put him in de coffin. Dey buried de 'omans in da windin' +sheets. When de Niggers got from de fields some of 'em went and dug a +grave. Den dey put de coffin on de oxcart and carried it to de +graveyard whar dey jus' had a burial dat day. Dey waited 'bout two +months sometimes before dey preached de fun'ral sermon. For the fun'ral +dey built a brush arbor in front of de white folkses church, and de +white preacher preached de fun'ral sermon, and white folkses would come +lissen to slave fun'rals. De song most sung at fun'rals wuz _Hark from +de Tomb_. De reason dey had slave fun'rals so long atter de burial wuz +to have 'em on Sunday or some other time when de crops had been laid by +so de other slaves could be on hand. + +"When white folkses died deir fun'rals wuz preached before dey wuz +buried. Dat wuz de onliest diff'unce in de way dey buried de whites and +de Niggers. Warn't nobody embalmed dem days and de white folkses wuz +buried in a graveyard on de farm same as de Niggers wuz, and de same +oxcart took 'em all to de graveyard. + +"Our Marster done de overseein' at his place hisself, and he never had +no hired overseer. Nobody never got a lickin' on our plantation lessen +dey needed it bad, but when Marster did whup 'em dey knowed dey had been +whupped. Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' on our place and us all +knowed better'n to take what didn't b'long to us, 'cause Old Marster +sho' did git atter Niggers what stole. If one Nigger did kill another +Nigger, dey tuk him and locked him in da jailhouse for 30 days to make +his peace wid God. Evvy day de preacher would come read de Bible to him, +and when de 30 days wuz up, den dey would hang him by de neck 'til he +died. De man what done de hangin' read de Bible to de folkses what wuz +gathered 'round dar while de murderer wuz a-dyin'. + +"Its de devil makes folkses do bad, and dey all better change and serve +God-a-Mighty, so as he kin save 'em before its too late. I b'lieve +folkses 'haved better dem days dan dey does now. Marstar made 'em be +good 'round his place. + +"When us turned Marster's watch dogs loose at night, dey warn't nothin' +could come 'round dat place. Dey had to be kept chained up in de +daytime. Sometimes Marster let us take his dogs and go huntin' and dey +wuz de best 'possum trailers 'round dem parts. When dey barked up a +'simmon tree, us allus found a 'possum or two in dat tree. Sometimes +atter us cotched up lots of 'em, Marster let us have a 'possum supper. +Baked wid plenty of butter and 'tatoes and sprinkled over wid red +pepper, dey is mighty good eatments. My mouf's jus' a-waterin' 'cause +I'm thinkin' 'bout 'possums. + +"Yes Ma'am, us had corn shuckin's, and dey wuz big old times. Evvybody +from plantations miles 'round would take time out to come. Sometimes de +big piles of corn would make a line most a half a mile long, but when +all de Niggers got at dat corn de shucks sho' would fly and it wouldn't +be so long before all de wuk wuz done and dey would call us to supper. +Dere wuz barbecue and chickens, jus' a plenty for all de Niggers, and +corn bread made lak reg'lar light bread and sho' enough light bread too, +and lots of 'tato pies and all sorts of good things. + +"Atter da War wuz over, dey jus' turned de slaves loose widout nothin'. +Some stayed on wid Old Marster and wukked for a little money and dey +rations. + +"Pa went down on the Hubbard place and wukked for 40 dollars a year and +his rations. Ma made cloth for all de folkses 'round 'bout. Dey fotched +deir thread and she wove de cloth for 50 cents a day. If us made a good +crop, us wuz all right wid plenty of corn, peas, 'tatoes, cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, all de hog meat us needed, and chickens too. Us +started out widout nothin' and had to go in debt to de white folkses at +fust but dat wuz soon paid off. I never had no chance to go to school +and git book larnin'. All de time, us had to wuk in de fields. + +"Ku Kluxers went 'round wid dem doughfaces on heaps atter de War. De +Niggers got more beatin's from 'em dan dey had ever got from deir Old +Marsters. If a Nigger sassed white folkses or kilt a hoss, dem Kluxers +sho' did evermore beat him up. Dey never touched me for I stayed out of +deir way, but dey whupped my pa one time for bein' off his place atter +dark. When dey turned him loose, he couldn't hardly stand up. De Yankees +jus' about broke up de Ku Kluxers, but day sho' wuz bad on Niggers while +dey lasted. + +"I wuz 'bout 21 years old when us married. Us never had no chillun and +my wife done been daid for all dese long years, I don't know how many. I +can't wuk and I jus' has to stay hyar wid my daid brother's chillun. Dey +is mighty good to me, but I gits awful lonesome sometimes. + +"No Ma'am, I ain't never seed but one ghost. Late one night, I wuz +comin' by de graveyard and seed somethin' dat looked lak a dog 'ceppin' +it warn't no dog. It wuz white and went in a grave. It skeered me so I +made tracks gittin' 'way from dar in a hurry and I ain't never bean +'round no more graveyards at night. + +"When I passes by de old graveyard on Jackson Street, I 'members lots +of folkses whats buried dar, bofe white folkses and slaves too, for den +white folkses put dey slaves whar dey aimed to be buried deyselves. Dat +sho' used to be a fine graveyard. + +"Us all gwine to git together someday when us all leaves dis old world. +I'm ready to go; jus' a-waitin' for de Lord to call me home, and I ain't +skeered to face de Lord who will judge us all de same, 'cause I done +tried to do right, and I ain't 'fraid to die." + +Uncle Willis was tired and sent a little boy to the store for milk. As +the interviewer took her departure he said: "Good-bye Missy. God bless +you. Jus' put yourself in de hands of de Lord, for dey ain't no better +place to be." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +MARY COLBERT, Age 84 +168 Pearl Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + + +(NOTE: This is the first story we have had in which the client did not +use any dialect. Mary Colbert's grammar was excellent. Her skin was +almost white, and her hair was quite straight. + +None of us know what a "deep" slave was. It may have the same meaning as +outlandish Negro. The "outlandish Negroes" were those newly arrived +Negroes who had just come in from any country outside of the United +States of America, and were untrained. They were usually just from +Africa. + +Sarah H. Hall) + +With the thermometer registering 93 degrees in the shade on a +particularly humid July day, the visitor trudged up one steep, rocky +alley and down another, hesitantly negotiated shaky little bridges over +several ravines, scrambled out of a ditch, and finally arrived at the +address of Mary Colbert. It was the noon hour. A Negro man had tied his +mule under an apple tree in one corner of Mary's yard. The animal was +peacefully munching hay while his master enjoyed lunch from a battered +tin bucket. Asked if Mary was at home, the man replied: "Yessum, jus' +call her at de door." + +A luxuriant Virginia creeper shaded the front porch of Mary's five-room +frame house, where a rap on the front door brought the response: "Here I +am, honey! Come right on through the house to the back porch." The aged +mulatto woman was hanging out clothes on a line suspended between two +peach trees. To the inquiry for Mary, she answered: "Yes, Honey, this is +Mary. They say I am old, childish, and hellish; anyway, this is Mary." + +"Dear, let's go in my parlor," she suggested in a cultured voice. "I +wouldn't dare go out on the front porch wearing this dirty dress. It +simply isn't my way of living." Mary is about five feet tall and wears +her straight, snowy-white hair in a neat knot low on the back of her +head. The sparkle in her bright brown eyes bespeaks a more youthful +spirit than her wrinkled and almost white face would indicate. She was +wearing a soiled print dress, brown cotton hose, and high-topped black +shoes. In remarkably good English for one of her race she told that her +daughter's family lives with her, "so that I won't be right by myself." +Then she began her story: + +"Honey, what is it you want me to tell you. Where was I born? Oh, my +child! I was born right here in dear old hilly Athens. Yes, that's where +I was born. Polly Crawford was my mother, and she belonged to Major +William H. Crawford before he gave her to his son, Marse John Crawford. +Now about my father, that is the dream. He died when I was just a little +child. They said he was Sandy Thomas and that he was owned by Marster +Obadiah Thomas, who lived in Oglethorpe County. All I can remember about +my grandparents is this: When I found my grandma, Hannah Crawford, she +was living on Major Crawford's plantation, where Crawford, Georgia, is +now. Grandma was a little, bitty woman; so little that she wore a number +one shoe. She was brought here from Virginia to be a field hand, but she +was smart as a whip, and lived to be 118 years old. I used to tell my +mother that I wished I was named Hannah for her, and so Mother called me +Mary Hannah. + +"I can't bring my grandfather to mind very clearly. I do remember that +my mother took me to Penfield to see him, and told me if I wasn't a good +little girl he would surely whip me. They called him 'Uncle Campfire', +because he had such a fiery temper. For a living, after he got to be an +old man, he made cheers (chairs), but for the life of me I don't know +who he belonged to, because Major Crawford sold him before I was born. + +"There were five of us children: Nat, Solomon, Susannah, Sarah, and +myself. Marse John gave Solomon to his daughter, Miss Fannie, when she +married Marse William H. Gerdine. Susannah belonged to Miss Rosa Golden, +and Sarah and I belonged to the other Miss Fannie. She was Marse John's +sister. Nat was Marse John's house boy, and our mother was his cook. We +children just played around the yard until we were large enough to work. + +"Yes, my dear, I was born in Marse John's back yard. He lived in a +two-story frame house on Dougherty Street, back of Scudder's School. The +two slave houses and the kitchen were set off from the house a little +piece out in the yard. It was the style then to have the kitchen built +separate from the dwelling house. + +"Lord bless your life, Honey! We didn't live in log cabins, as you call +them. There were two slave houses. The one Aggie lived in was two-story, +the other one had just one story and they were both weatherboarded like +Marse John's own house. The grown folks slept on beds made with tall oak +posts. There were no metal springs then and the beds were corded +instead. The straw-stuffed mattress ticks were made with plain and +striped material, and pillows were filled with cotton. We children slept +on trundle beds, which were pushed up under the big beds in the daytime, +and pulled out for us to sleep on at night. + +"No Ma'm, there was never any money given to me in slavery time. +Remember, Dear, when the yankees came through here, I was only ten years +old. Misses Fannie and Ann Crawford were Major Crawford's daughters, and +they kept house for Marse John. That morning in May I was wearing a +sleeveless apron, and they (Miss Fannie and Miss Ann) put a bag of gold +and silver, and some old greenback Confederate money in my apron and +told me to hold on to it. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann, both of them, patted +me on the head and said: 'Now, be a good little girl and don't move.' On +came the Blue Coats: they went all over the house searching everything +with their guns and swords shining and flashing. I was so scared the +sweat was running down my face in streams. Bless your life! When they +came to the bedroom where I was standing by a bed, holding that money +inside my apron, they didn't even glance at me the second time. Little +did they think that little slave girl had the money they were hunting +for. After the yankees were gone, I gave it all back to Miss Fannie, and +she didn't give me the first penny. If any of the money was given to my +mother she didn't tell me about it. + +"I am going to tell you the truth about what we had to eat, so listen +now. It was egg bread, biscuits, peas, potatoes--they they were called +'taters then--artichoke pickles, tea cakes, pies, and good old healthy +lye hominy. There was plenty of meat served, but I was not allowed to +eat that, as I was never a very strong child. I was a fool about stale +bread, such as biscuit, cornbread, and light bread. Mother was a fine +cook and her battercakes would just melt in your mouth. Of course, you +know we had no stoves in those days and the cooking was done in open +fireplaces, in ovens and pots. Oh yes! We had a garden. There was only +one on the place and enough was raised in it to feed all of the people +living there. + +"I don't remember eating 'possums, rabbits, squirrels and fish until I +went to Jackson, Mississippi, with Miss Rosa. There were plenty of those +meats in Mississippi and I was then getting old enough and healthy +enough to be allowed to eat them." + +At this point, Mary insisted on serving lunch for her visitor, saying +that she had lived with white people and knew how to cook. After a +polite refusal, the story was continued: + +"I was laughing at myself just the other day about those homespun +dresses and sleeveless aprons I wore as a child. I reckon that was a +sign you were coming to ask me about those things. I kept one of those +dresses of mine until my own baby girl wore it out, and now I am sorry I +let her wear it, for it would be so nice to have it to show you. We wore +just a one piece costume in summer and had calico and muslin dresses for +Sunday. Wintertime, I wore a balmoral petticoat, osnaburg drawers, and +er-r-r. Well, Jacob! I never thought I would live to see the day I'd +forget what our dresses were called. Anyway they were of woolen material +in a checked design, and were made with a full skirt gathered on to a +deep yoke. Uncle Patrick Hull--he was a deep slave belonging to Mr. A.L. +Hull--made all the shoes for Marse John's slaves. We all wore brass-toed +brogans. + +"Oh, good! I should smile! A better man than Marse John never lived. +Nobody better not beat his slaves. Marse John was the postmaster. He +married Miss Sallie Eden, and everybody said she was mighty good, but I +never knew her for she died when I was a baby. Marse John and his wife, +Miss Sallie, had three children. They were: Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa and +Marse Allie. Miss Annie Crawford, who teaches in the school here, is +Marse Allie's daughter. She don't know me so well, but I know mighty +well who she is. I think I have already told you that Misses Fannie and +Rosa kept house for their brother, Marse John, after their mother died. + +"Darling, please get this right: the plantation is a dream to me. If I +should try to tell you about it, I am sure it would be only what my +mother told me about it in the years long after the surrender. Whether +the plantation was the property of Marse John or his father, William H. +Crawford, I don't know, but I am sure there was an overseer, and I am +quite sure it was a very large plantation. You know the town of Crawford +was named for my white folks. The only thing I can be sure of, from my +own memory, is of the things that took place here in Athens. + +"Breakfast had to be served promptly at 7:30. When that 9:00 o'clock +bell sounded at night, God bless your soul! You had to be in your +house, and you had to be in bed by 10:00 o'clock. Marse John never +punished but just two of his slaves that I can remember, but I have seen +them get several good whippings. They were Ned and William, Aggie's and +Lucy's boys, and Marse John cowhided them for misbehaving. + +"There were jails during slavery time, but Marse John kept his slaves +straight himself and did not allow any of them to be taken to jail. I +have never seen slaves sold, but I have seen droves of them marching by, +being taken to Watkinsville to be sold. + +"No! No! Oh! No! You had better not dare let white people know that you +could read, in those days. I remember one colored man, Alfred Evans, who +used to read the Bible during slavery time. All the learning I have, I +got after we were made free. There were two colored churches in Athens; +one was Baptist and the other was Methodist. Yankee ladies came down +from the North and taught us to read and write. I have often considered +writing the history of my life and finally decided to undertake it, but +I found that it was more of a job than I had expected it to be, and then +too, I would have to tell too much, so I thought best to leave it alone. + +"I went to church but very little during slavery time. However, I dearly +loved to go to Sunday school, and never missed an opportunity of +attending. One of our Sunday school songs was worded something like +this: + + 'I want to be an angel, + And with the angels stand.' + +"My favorite song began: + + 'Around the Throne in Heaven, + Ten Thousand children stand.' + +"OO! Yes, I know how they buried folks in slavery time. For caskets they +used straight, white pine boxes that they called coffins. They didn't +have funerals like they do now. A preacher would say a few words at the +grave and then he prayed, and after that everybody sang something like: +'I will arise and go to Jesus.' I was a singer in my younger days. + +"All I remember 'bout Negroes going off to the North was when their +masters took them along on trips to wait on them. Bless your life! That +was one time when the ones that could read and write had the advantage. +They were usually chosen to go along so if anything happened to the +Marster on the trip, they could write back home. I never saw patrollers, +but I heard that they used to beat up Negroes who were caught away from +home without a pass. Marse John kept his slaves supplied with passes at +all necessary times. + +"Not all the slaves had to work on Saturday afternoons. This was their +time of the week to get together and have a little fun around their +quarters. Sunday mornings they went to church, as a rule, and on Sunday +nights they visited each other and held prayer meetings in their homes. +Don't get me wrong. They had to have passes to go visiting and attend +those prayer meetings. + +"Christmas time was a holiday season for slaves, and they had everything +good you could want to eat. Listen, Child, I am telling you the truth. +They even had pumpkin pie. Oh, yes! Santa Claus came to see slave +children. Once I got too smart for my own good. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann +had told us to go to bed early. They said if we weren't asleep when +Santa Claus got there, he would go away and never come back. Well, that +night I made up my mind to stay awake and see Santa Claus. Miss Fannie +and Miss Ann slipped into our quarters right easy and quiet and were +filling up stockings with candy, dolls, and everything you can imagine. +While they were doing that, they turned around and saw me with my eyes +wide open. Right there my Santa Claus ended. We didn't have any special +observance of New Year's Day. It was the same as any other day. + +"Mother said they had cornshuckings, quiltings, and cotton pickings on +the plantation. She told me a good deal about the cornshuckings: about +how they selected a general, whose job was to get up on top of the corn +pile and holler at the top of his voice, leading the cornshucking song, +while the others all shucked the corn and sang. After the corn was all +shucked there were always fine eats. I can remember the quiltings +myself. The women went from one house to another and quilted as many as +12 quilts in one night sometimes. After the quilts were all finished +they had a big spread of good food too. Now it takes a whole month to +quilt one quilt and nothing to eat. + +"What games did we play? Let me see. Oh! yes, one of them was played to +the rhyme: + + 'Chickimy, chickimy, Craney Crow + I went to the well to wash my toe, + When I got back my chicken was gone + What time, Old Witch?' + +"Then we would run and chase each other. Another game was played to the +counting-out by the rhyme that started: + + 'Mollie, Mollie Bright, three-score and ten.' + +"Honey, there is no use to ask me about Raw Head and Bloody Bones. When +folks started talking about that, I always left the room. It is a shame +how folks do frighten children trying to make them get quiet and go to +sleep. I don't believe in ha'nts and ghosts. Since I have been grown, I +have been around so many dead folks I have learned that the dead can't +harm you; its the living that make the trouble. + +"When his slaves were taken sick, Marse John always called in a doctor. +An old woman, who was known as 'Aunt Fannie,' was set aside to nurse +sick slaves. Dr. Joe Carlton was Marse John's doctor. What I am going to +tell you is no fairy tale. Once I was so sick that Marse John called in +Dr. Carlton, Dr. Richard M. Smith, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. James +Long, before they found out what was wrong with me. I had inflammatory +rheumatism and I wore out two and a half pairs of crutches before I +could walk good again. Now, Dr. Crawford Long is a great and famous man +in history, but it is sure true that he doctored on this old Negro many +years ago. + +"Honey, don't flatter me. Don't you know a little girl 10 years old +can't remember everything that went on that far back. A few things they +dosed the slaves with when they were sick was horehound tea, garlic +mixed with whiskey, and the worm-few (vermifuge?) tea that they gave to +Negro children for worms. That worm-few dose was given in April. +Asafetida was used on us at all times and sage tea was considered a +splendid medicine. + +"When news came that Negroes had been freed there was a happy jubilee +time. Marse John explained the new freedom to his slaves and we were +glad and sorry too. My mother stayed with Marse John until he died. I +was still a child and had never had to do anything more than play dolls, +and keep the children in the yard. Lord, Honey! I had a fine time those +days. + +"It wasn't so long after the surrender before schools for Negroes were +opened. It looked like they went wild trying to do just like their white +folks had done. As for buying homes, I don't know where they would have +gotten the money to pay for homes and land. + +"At the time I married I was a washerwoman for the white folks. My first +husband was Isaac Dixon, who came from some place in Alabama and had +been owned by Dr. Lipscomb, the chancelor of the university. Dr. +Lipscomb married us in the colored Methodist Church, and that night the +church was crowded to overflowing. I wore a white dress made with a long +train; that was the style then. After the ceremony, my mother served +cake and wine at her house. Our six children were prettier than you, but +only three of them lived to get grown. Our white friends named our +children. My first husband died and then I married Jones Colbert, who +belonged to Marse Fletcher Colbert of Madison County. We just went +around to the preacher's house and got married. Jones was an old man +when I married him. He was a preacher. He is dead now and so are all my +children except one. I have one grandson, and this is the shameful part +about him; his mother won't married when he was born, but of course she +married later. + +"Now I am going to tell you the truth as I see it. Abraham Lincoln was +an instrument of God sent to set us free, for it was God's will that we +should be freed. I never did hitch my mind on Jeff Davis; like the +children of Israel, he had his time to rule. Booker T. Washington! Well, +now I didn't give him a thought. He had to do his part. His mistress had +taught him to read. + +"Why did I join the church? Well, when the white folks sent their help +off to Mississippi trying to keep them slaves, my sister and I went with +Miss Rosa Crawford to Jackson. Before I left home my mother gave me an +alabaster doll and told me to be a good girl and pray every night. Well, +I never saw so many slave-houses in my life as I saw in Mississippi. +Every night when I heard a colored man named Ben praying in his room +that made me think of what my mother had told me and I grew more and +more homesick for her. Finally one night I crept into Uncle Ben's room +and asked him to tell me about God, and he did. After that, every night +I went into his room and we prayed together. Yes, Honey, I found God in +Jackson, Mississippi, and I joined the church just as soon as I could +after I got back to my mother and dear old Athens. + +"Yes, Honey, I was raised and loved by my own white folks and, when I +grew to be old enough and large enough, I worked for them. I have been +with, or worked for, white folks all my life and, just let me tell you, +I had the best white folks in the world, but it was by God's plan that +the Negroes were set free." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 1 +Ex. Slave #21 +(with Photograph)] + +[HW: "JOHN COLE"] + +Subject: A SLAVE REMEMBERS +District: No. 1 W.P.A +Editor: Edward Ficklen +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee +[MAY 8 1937] + + +A SLAVE REMEMBERS + +The front door of a little vine-clad cottage on Billups Street, in +Athens, Georgia quaked open and John Cole, ex-slave confronted a +"gov'mint man." + +[Illustration] + +Yes, he was the son of Lucius Cole and Betsy Cole, was in his 86th year, +and remembered the time "way back" when other gov'mint men with their +strange ways had descended on Athens. + +And far beyond that, back to the time when they had tried him out as a +scullion boy in the big town house where his mother was the cook, but it +seemed that the trays always escaped his clumsy young hands. + +So "Marse Henry" had put him on the 200 acre Oglethorpe plantation as +apprentice to training of the farm horses whose large unmanageableness +he found more manageable than the dainty china of the banker's house. He +simply had followed more after his father, the carriage driver than his +mother, the cook. + +Of course, all fifteen of the hands worked from sun-up to sun-down, but +his aunt was the plantation cook, and it was not so bad there. + +The night brought no counsel, but it brought better. Stretch cow-hides +over cheese-boxes and you had tambourines. Saw bones from off a cow, +knock them together, and call it [HW: a drum]. Or use broom-straws, on +fiddle-strings, and you had your entire orchestra. + +Grow older, and get by the gates with a pass (you had to have a pass or +the paddle-rollers would get you,) and you had you a woman. If the woman +wasn't willing, a good, hard-working hand could always get the master to +make the girl marry him--whether or no, willy-nilly. + +If a hand were noted for raising up strong black bucks, bucks that would +never "let the monkey get them" while in the high-noon hoeing, he would +be sent out as a species of circuit-rider to the other plantations--to +plantations where there was over-plus of "worthless young nigger gals". +There he would be "married off" again--time and again. This was thrifty +and saved any actual purchase of new stock. + +Always on Saturday afternoon you would have till "first dark" for +base-ball, and from first dark till Sunday-go-to meeting for drinking +and dancing. Sunday you could go to the colored church (with benefit of +white clergy) or you could go to the white church just like real class +except you sat in the rear. + +No, it was not a bad life. + +You usually weren't sick, but if you were sick, it afforded you the +luxury of tea. Turpentine and caster oil composed the entire _materia +medica_. Turpentine was used for sore throats, cuts and bruises. Castor +oil was used for everything else except a major fracture which called +for the master sending in a doctor to the quarters. + +Yes, the gov'mint men with the blue uniforms and the shiny brass buttons +had descended from the North on Athens--descended in spite of the +double-barrelled cannon that the little master and the little master's +men had tried on them. The blue clad invaders had come in despite of the +quick breast-works, and the new-fangled cannon, and Bob Toombs boast +that he "could beat the damn Yankees with corn-stalks before breakfast". +(If only they had fought that way--if only they had [HW: not] needed +grape-shot had enough to invent cannon mouths that spoke at the same +time and were meant to mow down men with a long chain--if only they had +not been able to fight long after Bull Run, and after breakfast!) + +Yes, the Yankees had come over the classic hills of Athens (Athens that +had so many hills that she would have been named Rome except for her +first land-grant college,) had left, and had come again to stay, and to +bring freedom to John Cole and his kind. + +This was six months after Lee and his palandins had laid down the +sword--the gallant, the unstained (but, alas, claimed Meade's batteries) +the unconstitutional sword. Six months had gone and freedom had come. + +But John Cole, slave of Henry Hull, the banker, found that his freedom +was the freedom of "the big oak"--Athens famed tree-that-owns-itself. He +was free, but he had no way to go anywhere. He was rooted in the soil +and would stay fast rooted. He worked on with his master for 20 years, +without pay. + +Did he believe, back in slavery time in "signs" and in "sayings"--that +the itching foot meant the journey to new lands--that the hound's +midnight threnody meant murder? + +No, when he was a young buck and had managed the bad horses, he had had +no such beliefs. No, he was not superstitious. If the foot itched +something ought to be put on it (or taken off it)--and as to the hounds +yelping, nobody ever knew what dark-time foolishness a hound-dog might +be up to. + +But he was old, now. Death always comes in the afternoon. He does +believe in things that have been proved. He does believe that a +squinch-owl's screeching ("V-o-o-o-d-o-o! W-h-o-o-o? Y-ou-u!") is a sure +sign of death. Lowing of a cow in afternoon Georgia meadows means death +mighty close. If death come down to a house, better stop clock and put +white cloth on mirrors. No loud talking permitted. Better for any nigger +to bow low down to death.... + +To what factors did he attribute his long life, queried the gov'mint +man. + +Long living came from leaving off smoking and drinking. + +Would he have a nickle cigar? + +He would. + +Yes, he was feeling quite tol'able, thank you. But he believed now in +the owl and the cow and the clock. + +In the morning-time one lives, but death always come in the afternoon. +Better for any nigger, anywhere, to bow low down to death. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +JULIA COLE, Age 78 +169 Yonah Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Corry Fowler +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +A knock on the door of the comfortable little frame house which Julia +Cole shares with her daughter, Rosa, brought the response, "Who dat?" +Soon Rosa appeared. "Come in Honey and have a cheer," was her greeting +and she added that Julia had "stepped across de street to visit 'round a +little." Soon the neighborhood was echoing and reverberating as the +call, "Tell Aunt Julia somebody wants to see her at her house," was +repeated from cabin to cabin. A few moments later Julia walked in. +Yellowish gingercake in color, and of rather dumpy figure, she presented +a clean, neat appearance. She and her daughter, who cooks for a +dentist's family, take much pride in their attractively furnished home. +Julia was of pleasant manner and seemed anxious to tell all that she +could. It is doubtful if Rosa made much progress with her ironing in an +adjoining room, for every few minutes she came to the door to remind her +mother of some incident that she had heard her tell before. + +Julia began her story by saying: "I was born in Monroe, Georgia and +b'longed to Marster John Grant. My Mamma was Mittie Johnson, and she +died de year 'fore de war ended. I don't 'member my Pa. Mamma had four +chillun. Richard and Thomas Grant was my brothers, but me and my sister +Hattie was Johnsons. Marse John had a big plantation and a heap of +slaves. Dey was rich, his folks was. Dey is de folks dat give Grant's +Park to Atlanta. + +"Dey called my grandpa, 'Uncle Abram.' Atter he had wukked hard in de +field all day, he would jus' lay down on a bench at night and sleep +widout pullin' off his clothes. Us had home-made beds in de cabins +widout no paint on 'em. Evvything slaves had was home-made, jus' +wooden-legged things. Even de coffins was made at home out of pine wood. +Now me, I didn't sleep in de cabin much. I slept on a little trundle bed +up at de big house. In de daytime my bed was pushed back up under one of +de big beds. + +"Marse John's son, Marse Willie Grant, blowed de bugle in de mornin's by +4 o'clock to git de slaves up in time to be in de fields by daybreak. +When slaves got too old to wuk, dey took keer of de chillun in a house +down below de kitchen. Mamma wukked in de field when she was able. +Nobody on our place had to wuk in de fields on Sadday evenin's. Dat was +de time de 'omans washed deir clothes and cleaned up. + +"Chillun didn't have much to do. Us loved to hunt for turkey nests +'cause dey give us a teacake for evvy turkey egg us fetched in. Chillun +et in de yard at de big house, whar dey give us plenty of meat and +cornbread wid good vegetables for dinner. For breakfast and supper, us +had mostly buttermilk and cornbread. On Sundays us had bread made from +wheat flour and sopped good old syrup wid it. Sometimes Marse John would +give us 'mission to kill little pigs at night and broil 'em over de +coals in our yards, and how us did enjoy 'em! I ain't never suffered for +nothin' in all my life, 'cause de Grants was mighty good white folks. De +old White home on Prince Avenue was deir summer home. When dey built +it, woods was all 'round and dere warn't many houses in dat section. + +"Us had plenty of clothes made out of homespun checks, and Marse John +give us brass-toed shoes. Our dresses was well sewed and made wid belts +to 'em. Nobody went 'bout half naked on our plantation lak some of de +old folks f'um other farms talks 'bout. Us had good well-made clothes, +even if dey was made out of common cloth. + +"Nobody on our plantation run away to de North, and de paddyrollers +didn't git nobody at our place neither. Marse John was too good to +evvybody for his slaves to want to cut up and run 'way and do things to +make de paddyrollers hunt 'em down. Dey didn't have no jails 'cause dey +didn't need none on our place. Sometimes Marse John made a colored man +named Uncle Jim Cooper give 'em a good whuppin' when dey needed it. + +"When us was sick, dey give us herbs and things of dat sort. In de +springtime, dey give us jerusalem oak seed in syrup for nine mornin's +and by den us was allus rid of de worms. Dey 'tended to slave chillun so +good and dutiful dat dere warn't many of 'em died, and I don't never +'member no doctor comin' to my Mamma's house. + +"Old Missus used to teach us in da blue back speller, and when I didn't +know my lesson she made me run f'um de house to de gyarden gate for +punishment. De more words I missed; de more times I had to run. Us had +our own church services on de plantation under home-made brush arbors, +and our colored preacher was Uncle Charles Cooper. + +"Once some sojers come by our place lookin' for Marse John. He had done +hid in de loft of de meat house and told evvybody on de place dey +better not tell whar he was. Dey didn't find Marse John, but dey did +find his son, Marse Willie, and dey tuk him 'long wid 'em. Marse Willie +was de only chile dat Marster and Missus had and it nearly killed 'em +for him to be tuk 'way from 'em. When Mr. Lincoln's general got to our +place he was a-ridin' a big red hoss dat sho' was a grand animal. Dem +sojers went in de smokehouses and stores evvywhar and tuk what dey +wanted. + +"Not long 'fore de war ended, my Mamma tuk a 'lapse f'um measles and +died. 'Fore she died, she sont for Marse John and told him what she +wanted done, and he done jus' what she axed. She give him my brothers, +Richard and Thomas, and told him to take dem two boys and to make men +out of 'em by makin' 'em wuk hard. I jus' lak to have died when my Mamma +died. Dey carried her to de graveyard and put her down in de grave and I +jus' couldn't help it; I jumped right down in dat grave wid her, and dey +had to take me out. My brothers said I was plum crazy dat day. + +"Atter de war was over, Marster moved his family to Atlanta on Peachtree +Street. His grandson dat was born dat year died not long ago. Dey didn't +have no farm in Atlanta and so dey didn't need all deir old servants. My +sister Hattie was a baby and Auntie tuk her to Atlanta wid de Grants. + +"I don't know what 'come of de others on Marster's farm. I had to git in +a covered wagon and come wid my Uncle Jordan Johnson to Athens. I didn't +want to leave, and I hid down under our things in de wagon when dey made +me come. When us crossed de river, I was sho' us was 'bout to git +drownded. One time atter dat us tuk a trip to Madison to see de old +breastplates (breastworks) dar. + +"My brother Tom got to be captain of a colored troop dat went to de +Philippine Islands. Over dar de sojers kilt a big snake and et it all +but de head. He had dat thing stuffed and brought it home. Atter he left +de army, he got a job in de Atlanta Post Office whar he wukked 'til he +was 'tired. + +"I was hired out to de Marks family and stayed dar for years and dat was +a mighty good place to be hired out. I was married twice. Me and Crit +Clayton married at home. I ain't never seed nothin' lak dat pretty +flowerdy weddin' dress dat I wore and I had de prettiest hat and things +dat I ever seed. My next husband was Andrew Cole--He was Rosa's Pa. I +forgits de name of de white preacher dat married us when us went to his +house and axed him to. Four of our seven chillun is still livin'. + +"Dey tells me our old big house near Monroe is standin' yit, and I sho' +do wish I could see it once more 'fore I die, but since I broke my hip a +few years ago I jus' don't ride in dem automobiles. No Ma'am, I don't +limp. De Lord was good to heal my hip and I ain't takin' no chances on +breakin' no more of my bones." + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +MARTHA COLQUITT, Age 85 +190 Lyndon Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Federal Writers' Project +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + + +The aged Negress leaned heavily on her cane as she shuffled about her +tiny porch in the waning sunlight of a cold January day. An airplane +writing an advertising slogan in letters of smoke high in the sky was +receiving but indifferent attention from Aunt Martha. Sha shivered and +occasionally leaned against a post until a paroxysm of coughing +subsided. "What would you have thought of that if it had suddenly +appeared in the sky when you were a child?" she was asked. "It would +have scared me plum to death," was the response. "I didn't come out here +just to see dat," she continued, "I didn't have nothin' to make no fire +wid, and I had to git out in de sunshine 'cause it wuz too cold to stay +in de house. It sho' is mighty bad to have to go to bed wid cold feet +and cough all night long." + +Her visitor could not resist the impulse to say, "Let's make a trade, +Aunt Martha! If I give you a little money will you buy wood; then while +you enjoy the fire will you think back over your life and tell me about +your experiences when I come back tomorrow?" "Bless de Lord! I sho' will +be glad to tell you de truf 'bout anything I can 'member," was her quick +reply as she reached for the money. + + +[TR: Return Visit] + +The next day Aunt Martha was in bed, slowly eating a bowl of potlicker +and turnip greens into which cornbread had been crumbled. + +"My ches' hurt so bad I couldn't git up today," was her greeting, "but +set right dar by my bed and I can talk all right, long as I don't have +to walk 'bout none. Walkin' makes me cough." + +Soon the bowl was empty and when she had wiped her mouth with the sleeve +of her nightgown, Aunt Martha began: + +"When I wuz born, my ma b'longed to Marse Billie Glenn and us lived on +his big plantation way down below Lexin'ton. My pa wuz Anderson +Mitchell. He come from Milledgeville and b'longed to Mr. D. Smith. The +Smithies lived close by Marse Billie's place. My ma wuz Healon Mitchell. +I don't know what her last name wuz 'fore she married. She wuz born in +Virginny, and her and my grandma wuz sold and brought to Georgia when ma +wuz a baby. Grandma never did see none of her other chillun or her +husband no more, and us never did hear nothin' 'bout 'em. + +"Ma had four chillun. Lucy wuz my onlies' sister. Mr. Davenport bought +her and she growed up at his place, what wuz called 'De Glade.' It wuz a +big fine place at Point Peter, Georgia. Lucy married a Taylor. + +"My brother, Isaac, wuz raised at Mr. Hamilton's place at Point Peter. +After he growed up, he worked in Atlanta and bought him a home dar. He +got in a fight wid a man what had done stobbed his mule, and de man hurt +Isaac so bad he went crazy and died in de 'sylum at Milledgeville, but +dey took him back and buried him in Atlanta. + +"My other brother wuz Anderson Mitchell, and after freedom come he got +work in Athens at de compress. His boss man moved to Augusta and took +Anderson wid him to work in de compress dar. One day somethin' blowed +up and he wuz scalded so bad it paralyzed him. Dey brought him back +here, but he soon died. + +"Ma's house was right on de edge of Marse Billie's yard, 'cause she was +de cook. Grandma lived in de same house wid ma and us chillun, and she +worked in de loom house and wove cloth all de time. She wove de checkidy +cloth for de slaves clo'es, and she made flannel cloth too, leaseways, +it wuz part flannel. She made heaps of kinds of cloth. + +"Our beds had big home-made posties and frames, and us used ropes for +springs. Grandma brought her feather bed wid her from Virginny, and she +used to piece up a heap of quilts outen our ole clo'es and any kind of +scraps she could get a holt of. I don't know what de others had in dey +cabins 'cause ma didn't 'low her chillun to visit 'round de other +folkses none. + +"Ma's chillun all had vittals from de white folkses kitchen. After Marse +Billie's fambly done et and left de table, de cook wuz s'posed to take +what wuz left to feed de house niggers and her own chillun, and us did +have sho' 'nuff good vittals. All de other slave folks had day rations +weighed out to 'em every week and dey cooked in dey own cabins. When de +wheat wuz ground at de mill it made white flour, and shorts, and +seconds. Most of de shorts wuz weighed out in rations for de slave +folks. Now and den at Christmas and special times dey got a little white +flour. Dey liked cornbread for reg'lar eatin'. Dey wuz always lots of +hogs on Marse Billie's plantation, and his colored folkses had plenty of +side meat. Slaves never had no time to hunt in de day time, but dey sho' +could catch lots of 'possums at night, and dey knowed how to git catfish +at night too. + +"'Cross de road from de Big 'Ouse, Marse Billie had a big gyarden, and +he seed dat his help had plenty of somethin' good to bile. Dey won't no +separate gyardens. Dey didn't have no time to work no gyardens of dey +own. + +"In summertime us chillun wore just one piece of clo'es. It wuz a sack +apron. In winter grandma made us yarn underskirts and yarn drawers +buttoned down over our knees. Ma made our home-knit stockings. Dey +called our brass toed shoes 'brogans.' I don't speck you ever seed a +brass toed shoe! + +"Our Big 'Ouse sho' wuz one grand fine place. Why, it must have been as +big as de Mill Stone Baptist Church! It wuz all painted white wid green +blinds and had a big old high porch dat went nigh all 'round de house. + +"If I ever did hear what Marse Billie's wife wuz named, I done plum +clear forgot. Us called her 'Mist'ess' long as she lived and I don't +recollect hearin' her called nothin' else. Marster and Mist'ess never +had no little chillun whilst I was dar. Miss Lizzie wuz dey youngest +child and she wuz most grown when I wuz born. + +"Marse Billie's overseer lived in a four-room house up de road a piece +from the Big 'Ouse. Nobody thought 'bout none of Marse Billie's +overseers as pore white folkses. Every overseer he ever had wuz decent +and 'spectable. Course dey won't in de same class wid Marse Billie's +fambly, but dey was all right. Dey wuz four or five homes nigh our +plantation, but all of 'em b'longed to rich white folkses. If dey wuz +any pore white folkses 'round dar, us chillun never heared nothin' of +'em. + +"I don't know just how many slaves Marse Billie had, but dey sho' was a +drove of 'em. Sometimes he had 'em all git together in de back yard at +de Big 'Ouse, and dey just filled up de yard. + +"De overseer blowed a horn to wake 'em up just 'fore day, so as +everybody could cook, eat, and git out to de fields by sunrise. Dey quit +nigh sundown, in time for 'em to feed de stock, do de milkin', tend to +bringin' in de wood, and all sorts of other little jobs dat had to be +done 'fore it got too dark to see. Dey never wuz no work done at night +on our plantation. + +"If any of Marse Billie's help wuz whipped, I never knowed nothin' 'bout +it. Dey used to say dat if any of 'em didn't work right de overseer +would take 'em to de workshop. Us chillun never did know what happened +when dey took 'em to de workshop. It wuz too fur away for us to hear +what happened dar. De workshop was a big lone shed off to itself, whar +dey had da blacksmith place, and whar harness wuz mended, and all sorts +of fixin' done to de tools and things. + +"Us never heared of no jail. Marse Billie bossed his place and us never +knowed 'bout no trouble. De workshop wuz de nighest thing to a jail or a +court dat anybody on our plantation knowed anything 'bout. Us never seed +nobody in chains 'til long atter de War, when us wuz livin' in +Lexin'ton, and Mr. Jim Smith come through dar wid some colored folkses +all chained up, but us never did know how come dey wuz chained. + +"No slave never runned away fron Marse Billie's plantation. Dey never +even wanted to try. Dey wuz always 'fraid dey might not be able to take +as good keer of deyselves as Marse Billie did for 'em, and dey didn't +know what would happen to 'em off de plantation. + +"I heared 'em talkin' 'bout paterollers, but I never did see one. +Folkses said dey would git you and beat you if dey cotch you off de +plantation whar you b'longed 'thout no pass. If any of Marse Billie's +slaves got cotched by de paterollers, I never knowed nothin' 'bout it. + +"I never heared of no trouble twixt de white folkses and dey colored +folkses. Grandma and ma never 'lowed us to go to no other cabins, and us +didn't hear 'bout no talk what wuz goin' on 'mongst de others. At night +ma always spinned and knit, and grandma, she sewed, makin' clo'es for us +chillun. Dey done it 'cause dey wanted to. Dey wuz workin' for deyselves +den. Dey won't made to work at night. On Sadday night, ma bathed all her +chillun. I don't know what de other famblies done den. Slaves wuz 'lowed +to frolic Sadday night, if dey b'haved deyselves. On Sunday nights dey +most always had prayer meetings. + +"On Christmas mornin' all of us would come up to de yard back of de Big +'Ouse and Marse Billie and de overseer handed out presents for all. Dey +wuz a little dram and cake too. Us chillun got dolls, and dresses, and +aprons. Them stuffed rag dolls wuz de prettiest things! On New Year's +day all de mens would come up to de Big 'Ouse early in de morning and +would work lively as dey could a-cuttin' wood and doing all sorts of +little jobs 'til de dinner bell rung. Den Marse Billie would come out +and tell 'em dey wuz startin' de New Year right a-workin' lively and +fast. Den he would say dat dey would be fed good and looked atter good, +long as dey worked good. He give 'em a good taste of dram and cake all +'round, and let 'em go back to dey cabins for dinner, and dey could have +de rest of de day to frolic. + +"Dem cornshuckin's us used to have sho' wuz a sight. Corn would be piled +up high as dis house, and de folkses would dance 'round and holler and +whoop. Ma 'lowed us chillun to watch 'em 'bout a half hour; den made us +come back inside our cabin, 'cause dey always give de corn shuckin' +folkses some dram, and things would git mighty lively and rough by de +time all de corn wuz shucked. + +"On bright moonshiny nights folkses would invite de neighbors to come +for cotton pickin's. After the cotton wuz picked dey would eat barbecue, +and dance and have a big time. + +"I never seed but one weddin' 'fore freedom come, and dat wuz when Marse +Billie's daughter, Miss Lizzie Glenn, married Mr. Deadwyler. Dey had +everything at dat weddin'. Yes, Ma'am, just everything. Miss Lizzie had +on a white silk dress a-trailin' so far behind her dat it took two +ladies to tote her train. Her veil wuz floatin' all 'bout her, and she +wuz just de prettiest thing I ever did see in my whole life. A long time +atter dat, Mr. Deadwyler, he died, and left Miss Lizzie wid two chillun, +and she married Mr. Roan. + +"I never seed no slave marriage. Ma went to 'em sometimes, but she never +'lowed us to go, 'cause she said us wuz too little. Marse Billie sont +atter his own preacher, and de couple would come up to de Big 'Ouse and +stand in de parlor door to be married 'fore Marster and Mist'ess. Den +de colored folkses would go back down to da cabins and have a weddin' +supper and frolic and dance. Dat's what ma told me 'bout 'em. + +"Us used to play lots, but us never did have no special name for our +playin'. 'Swingin' the Corner,' wuz when us all jined hands in a low +row, and de leader would begin to run 'round in circles, and at de other +end of de line dey would soon be runnin' so fast dey wuz most flyin'. + +"Us all de time heared folkses talkin' 'bout voodoo, but my grandma wuz +powerful 'ligious, and her and ma told us chillun voodoo wuz a no 'count +doin' of de devil, and Christians wuz never to pay it no 'tention. Us +wuz to be happy in de Lord, and let voodoo and de devil alone. None of +us liked to hear scritch owls holler, 'cause everybody thought it meant +somebody in dat house wuz goin' to die if a scritch owl lit on your +chimney and hollered, so us would stir up de fire to make the smoke +drive him away. I always runned out and tried to see 'em, but old as I +is, nigh 86, I ain't never seed no scritch owl. + +"Yes, Ma'am, I sho' does b'lieve in ha'nts, 'cause I done heared one and +I seed it too, leasewise I seed its light. It wuz 'bout 30 years ago, +and us had just moved in a house whar a white fambly had moved out. The +ma had died a few days atter a little baby wuz born, and de baby had +died too. One night I heared a strange sound like somebody movin' 'round +in de house, and pretty soon a dim light comes a-movin' into my room +real slow and atter goin' 'round de room it went out of sight in de +closet. + +"Next day I went to see de white folkses what had lived dar 'fore us +moved in, and de husband tole me not to worry, dat it wuz his wife's +ha'nt. He said she wuz huntin' for some money she had hid in de house, +'cause she wanted her chillun what wuz still livin' to have it. I went +back home and 'most tore dat house down lookin' for dat money. Long as +us lived dar I would see dat light now and den at night, and I always +hoped it would lead me to de money but it never did. + +"When folkses got sick, Marse Billie had 'em looked atter. Mist'ess +would come every day to see 'bout 'em, and if she thought dey wuz bad +off, she sont atter Dr. Davenport. Dr. Davenport come dar so much 'til +he courted and married Marse Billie's daughter, Miss Martha Glenn. I wuz +named for Miss Martha. Dey sho' did take special good keer of de mammies +and de babies. Dey had a separate house for 'em, and a granny 'oman who +didn't have nothin' else to do but look atter colored babies and +mammies. De granny 'oman took de place of a doctor when de babies wuz +born, but if she found a mammy in a bad fix she would ax Mist'ess to +send for Dr. Davenport. + +"Us didn't have no separate church for colored folkses. De white folkses +had a big Baptist church dey called Mill Stone Church down at Goosepond, +a good ways down de road from Marse Billie's plantation. It sho' wuz a +pretty sight to see, dat church, all painted white and set in a big oak +grove. Colored folkses had dey place in de gallery. Dey won't 'lowed to +jine de church on Sunday, but dey had reg'lar Sadday afternoons for de +slaves to come and 'fess dey faith, and jine de church. Us didn't know +dey wuz no other church but de Baptist. All de baptizin' wuz done on +Sunday by de white preacher. First he would baptize de white folkses in +de pool back of de church and den he would baptize de slaves in de same +pool. + +"My grandma wuz a powerful Christian 'oman, and she did love to sing and +shout. Dat's how come Marse Billie had her locked up in de loom room +when de Yankee mens come to our plantation. Grandma would git to +shoutin' so loud she would make so much fuss nobody in de church could +hear de preacher and she would wander off from de gallery and go +downstairs and try to go down de white folkses aisles to git to de altar +whar de preacher wuz, and dey wuz always lockin' her up for 'sturbin' +worship, but dey never could break her from dat shoutin' and wanderin' +'round de meetin' house, atter she got old. + +"Dem Yankee sojers rode up in de Big 'Ouse yard and 'gun to ax me +questions 'bout whar Marse Billy wuz, and whar everything on de place +wuz kept, but I wuz too skeered to say nuthin'. Everything wuz quiet and +still as could be, 'cept for Grandma a-singin' and a-shoutin' up in de +loom house all by herself. One of dem Yankees tried the door and he axed +me how come it wuz locked. I told him it wuz 'cause grandma had 'sturbed +de Baptist meetin' wid her shoutin'. Dem mens grabbed de axe from de +woodpile and busted de door down. Dey went in and got grandma. Dey axed +her 'bout how come she wuz locked up, and she told 'em de same thing I +had told 'em. Dey axed her if she wuz hongry, and she said she wuz. Den +dey took dat axe and busted down de smokehouse door and told her she wuz +free now and to help herself to anything she wanted, 'cause everything +on de plantation wuz to b'long to de slaves dat had worked dar. Dey took +grandma to de kitchen and told ma to give her some of de white folkses +dinner. Ma said 'But de white folkses ain't et yet.' 'Go right on,' de +Yankees said, 'and give it to her, de best in de pot, and if dey's +anything left when she gets through, maybe us will let de white folkses +have some of it.' + +"Dem brash mens strutted on through de kitchen into de house and dey +didn't see nobody else down stairs. Upstairs dey didn't even have de +manners to knock at Mist'ess' door. Dey just walked right on in whar my +sister, Lucy, wuz combin' Mist'ess' long pretty hair. They told Lucy she +wuz free now and not to do no more work for Mist'ess. Den all of 'em +grabbed dey big old rough hands into Mist'ess' hair, and dey made her +walk down stairs and out in de yard, and all de time dey wuz a-pullin' +and jerkin' at her long hair, tryin' to make her point out to 'em whar +Marse Billie had done had his horses and cattle hid out. Us chilluns wuz +a-cryin' and takin' on 'cause us loved Mist'ess and us didn't want +nobody to bother her. Dey made out like dey wuz goin' to kill her if she +didn't tell 'em what dey wanted to know, but atter a while dey let her +alone. + +"Atter dey had told all de slaves dey could find on de place not to do +no more work, and to go help deyselves to anything dey wanted in de +smokehouse, and 'bout de Big 'Ouse and plantation, dey rode on off, and +us never seed no more of 'em. Atter de Yankees wuz done gone off Grandma +'gun to fuss: 'How, dem sojers wuz tellin' us what ain't so, 'cause +ain't nobody got no right to take what belongs to Marster and Mist'ess.' +And Ma jined in: 'Sho' it ain't no truf in what dem Yankees wuz +a-sayin', and us went right on living' just like us always done 'til +Marse Billie called us together and told us de war wuz over and us wuz +free to go whar us wanted to go, and us could charge wages for our work. + + +"When freedom comed my pa wanted us to move off right away over to Mr. +Smithies' place so our family could be together, but us stayed on wid +Marse Billie de rest of dat year. Den pa and ma moved to Lexin'ton, whar +pa digged walls and ditches and made right good pay. Ma took all four of +us chillun and run a good farm. Us got along fine. + +"'Fore de War, all work stopped on de plantation for de funeral of a +slave. Grandma didn't think chillun ought to see funerals, so de first +one I ever seed, wuz when ma died two years atter de War wuz done over. +A jackleg colored preacher talked, but he didn't have sense 'nuff to +preach a sho' 'nuff sermon. + +"Us heared a heap 'bout dem Ku Kluxers, but none of my folks never even +seed any of 'em. Dey wuz s'posed to have done lots of beatin' of colored +folks, but nobody knowed who dem Ku Kluxers wuz. + +"A long time atter de War I got married to Traverse Colquitt. De weddin' +took place at my sister's house, and us sho' did have a big weddin' and +a fine dinner afterwards. Den next day my husband carried me to whar he +wuz born, and his ma give us another big fine dinner. She had a table +longer dan this room, and it wuz just loaded with all sorts of good +things. De white folkses dat my husband had used to work for had sent +some of de good vittals. + +"Most of my life atter de War wuz spent in Lexin'ton. Does you know +anythin' 'bout Mr. John Bacon dat used to run de only hotel dar den? +Well, I worked for him for many a year. His daughter, Miss Mamie Bacon, +lives here in Athens and she is old and feeble like me. She lives 'bout +four blocks from here, and whenever I'se able to walk dat far, I goes +to see her to talk 'bout old times, and to git her to 'vise me how to +git along. I sho'ly does love Miss Mamie. + +"My husband died 'bout a year ago. Us had eight boys and two girls, but +dey ain't but four of our chillun livin' now. Least, I thinks dey is all +four alive. Two of my sons lives somewhar in Alabama, and one son stays +in New York. My only livin' daughter lives wid me here, pore thing! +Since she seed one of her chillun killed last year, she ain't had no +mind a t'all. I'se tryin' to look atter her and de other child. Her +husband done been dead a long time. My neighbors helps me, by bringin' +me a little to eat, when dey knows I ain't got nothin' in de house to +cook. De storekeeper lets me have a little credit, but I owe her so much +now dat I'se 'shamed to ax her to let me have anythin' else. De white +folkses on Prince Avenue is right good to let me have dey clo'es to +wash, and de young gals in the neighborhood helps me to do de washin'. I +sho' is hopin' de old age pension will soon git started comin' to me. +Some dat I know, has been gittin' dey old age pensions two or three +months. I done signed up for mine twict, so maybe it will 'gin to come +'fore I is done plum wore out." + +When her visitor was ready to leave, Martha hobbled to the door and bade +her an affectionate farewell. "Goodbye, Lady! I prays for you every +night. May de good Lord bless you." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE + +MINNIE DAVIS, Age 78 +237 Billups St. +Athens, Ga. + +Written By: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens, Georgia + +Edited By: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens, Georgia + +and +John N. Booth +WPA Residencies 6 & 7 + +August 29, 1938 + + +The bareness of Minnie Davis' yard was relieved by a single rosebush, +and her small house might best be described as a "tumble-down shack." An +unsteady wooden box served as a step to the fragment of porch before the +front door. + +"Good mornin', Mam," was the greeting of a Negro man who hastened to +answer the visitor's knock at the door. "Yes Mam, Miss Minnie's at +home." He turned, tapped on the door of one of the four rooms adjoining +the hall, and called: "Miss Minnie, a white lady wants to see you." +Minnie hobbled to the door and invited the visitor to her bedroom, where +a suite of handsome walnut furniture reflected the period when marble +tops were standard parts of dressers and washstands. A low chair, an old +table, and a rusty heater completed the furnishings of the room. + +Age and ill health have not dealt kindly with Minnie, and her short-cut, +kinky hair is almost white, but her eyes and face retain a remarkably +youthful appearance. She is a small thin woman of gingercake color and, +despite the sweltering heat, she wore a pink flannel nightgown, faded +and dingy, and a pair of high top black shoes, so badly run over that +she hobbled along on the sides of them. Minnie is well educated, and she +taught school for so long that her speech is remarkably free of dialect. + +When the nature of the visit was explained, Minnie said: "A white woman +has been here several times before, but I was sick and didn't understand +clearly what she wanted me to tell her." She then explained that she did +not care to talk for publication at all. She said she was hungry and had +nothing at all in the house to eat. Her nephew, Ed, an ex-postman lived +with her, she explained, and he would go for food if there was any +money. She might feel like talking a little if she had a little +something to eat. The interviewer provided the cash and Ed soon returned +with a pint of milk and some cinnamon rolls. After her repast, Minnie +began to talk, giving the impression that every word was carefully +weighed before it was uttered. + +"I was born in Greene County near Penfield, Georgia," she said. "Aggie +Crawford was my mother and she was married to Jim Young. My only sister +was Mariah, and my three brothers were Ned, John, and Jim. Ned was a +mulatto. I know who his father was, but of course you won't ask me that. +I wouldn't want to expose my own mother or the man who was Ned's father. +I was quite a small child during the war period, and I can tell you very +little of that time, except the things my mother told me when I grew old +enough to remember. My mother belonged to the Crawford family in Greene +County, but when I knew anything we were living in Athens and were the +slaves of Marster John Crawford. + +"As children we played around the yard; those of us who were old enough +had odd jobs to do. The unceiled house that my father and mother shared +with three other families was weatherboarded and had a chimney made of +sticks and dirt. There was a bed in each corner of the room and from one +to three children slept in the bed with their parents: the rest of the +children slept on the floor. The tall old home-made wooden beds had very +much the appearance of beds used now, except that cords were used +instead of the metal springs that came into use later. Our osnaburg +mattress ticks were filled with straw. I'm quite sure there were no +pillows. There was also a two-story house on the lot for slaves." She +was asked what she called her father and mother during slavery time, and +her reply was: "I have always said father and mother because I liked it +better, and the Bible teaches us to say that. + +"Grandmother Dilsey and grandfather Levi Crawford lived in Lexington. I +saw my grandmother one time, but I don't know what she did at the white +folks' house. Grandfather was a carpenter. + +"I never got any money in slavery time. If the slaves ever got any, it +was when the Yankees came through here. At that time the white people +gave their money to the slaves for safekeeping, and after the Yankees +went on it was returned to the white owners. + +"My mother was the cook and looked after the house. Oh, yes indeed, we +had good food to eat. Bread, milk, meat, collard greens, turnips, and +potatoes. I would say we had just everything that was grown in the +garden and on the plantations to eat at that time. The cooking was done +in the kitchen in the yard. The fireplace was as wide as the end of this +room, and a long iron bar extended from one end to the other. The great +cooking pots were suspended over the coals from this bar by means of pot +hooks. Heavy iron skillets with thick lids were much used for baking, +and they had ovens of various sizes. I have seen my mother bake +beautiful biscuits and cakes in those old skillets, and they were ideal +for roasting meats. Mother's batter cakes would just melt in your mouth +and she could bake and fry the most delicious fish. There was no certain +thing that I liked to eat more than anything else in those days. I was +young and had a keen appetite for all good things. Miss Fannie and Miss +Susan often made candy and it was so good I could have eaten all they +made, had they given it to me. My father hired his time out; he made and +sold gingercakes on the railroad. + +"In the summertime we wore homespun dresses made with a full skirt +gathered onto a tight-fitting waist. In the wintertime the dresses were +made of checked woolen material called linsey cloth. For underwear, we +wore balmoral petticoats and osnaburg drawers. We went barefooted most +of the time. I remember one particular time when the ground was frozen +and I went about without any shoes, but it didn't bother me. Barefooted +children seldom had bad colds in winter. We wore just anything on +Sunday, but we had to look nice and clean. + +"Marster John Crawford, son of the distinguished William H. Crawford, +was my owner. Indeed, he was good to us. I'll tell you after awhile +about the time he wouldn't let the town marshal whip my mother. They +told me his wife was a fine woman and that she was as good to her slaves +as she could be. She died very young in life and Marse John's sisters, +Miss Fannie and Miss Susan, kept house for him after that. Marse John's +three children were Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa, and Marse Allie. Miss Rosa +married Marse Tom Golden, and Miss Fannie married a Gerdine; I've +forgotten his first name. + +"Marse John may have had an overseer on one of his plantations, but I +don't remember. I do know he didn't have a carriage driver for he didn't +have a carriage. I don't believe I can describe the peculiar shape of +his fine eight-room house. It was on Dougherty Street, right back of +Scudder's School. The Crawfords were considered very uppity people and +their slaves were uppish too. Marse John didn't have many slaves and +they had to get up and get going early every morning. Marse John was +postmaster of Athens and had to be in his office by eight o'clock every +morning so he ordered that his breakfast be served regularly at +seven-thirty. + +"No Mam, our white folks didn't teach their slaves to read and write +because it was against the law. However, they did read the Bible to us, +and the slaves that were smart enough, were asked to repeat the verses +they had learned from hearing Miss Fannie, Miss Sue, and Marse John +read. The Crawford children were caught teaching my mother to read and +write, but they were made to stop. Mother was quick to learn and she +never gave up. She would steal the newspapers and read up about the war, +and she kept the other slaves posted as to how the war was progressing. +She knew when the war was over, almost as soon as Marse John did. + +"I don't recall any certain reason why the slaves were punished; they +needed it, I'm sure of that. Some folks need to be punished now. Miss +Sue, as we called her, whipped the slaves for misbehavior. I remember +one time there was quite a commotion. The town marshal came to our house +to whip my mother. It had been told that she had been writing letters, +asking people to buy whiskey from her, but Marse John wouldn't let the +marshal touch her. There was a jail, but I don't recall that any of +Marse John's slaves were ever put in there. I was told that his slaves +were, as a rule, well behaved and that they gave him no trouble. + +"Yes Mam, we went to church, that is, those of us who cared to go did. +There wasn't any separate church for colored people in Athens, that I +can remember. We went to church and Sunday School at the First +Presbyterian Church, where the slaves were allowed to sit in the +gallery. I recall that Dr. Hoyt used to pray that the Lord would drive +the Yankees back. He said that 'Niggers were born to be slaves.' My +mother said that all the time he was praying out loud like that, she was +praying to herself: 'Oh, Lord, please send the Yankees on and let them +set us free.' I wasn't enough of a singer to have a favorite song, and I +was too happy playing with the Crawford children to be interested in +going to baptizings and funerals. + +"I did go to my father's funeral. When he was taken sick Dr. Holt +attended his case, and it was not long before he told Marse John that +Father would never get well. When he died Mother hollered and screamed +something terrible. Miss Sue told her not to cry because, 'the Lord +knows best.' 'Yes, Miss Sue,' answered Mother, 'but you have never loved +a man to lose.' With that, they both cried. When anyone died in those +days, the people sat up all night and didn't go to bed until the funeral +was over. Now, no real sympathy is shown. + +"I don't believe any of Marse John's slaves ever went to the war. He was +good to them and everyone of them loved him. I heard of patterollers +chasing slaves and whipping them if they were caught away from home +without a pass, and sometimes they locked them up. However, nothing of +the kind ever happened to any of Marse John's slaves. He was a highly +respected citizen and everyone in Athens knew better than to touch his +Negroes. + +"After the work for the day was finished at the big house, the slaves +went to their quarters to weave cloth and sew, but when ten o'clock came +and the bell sounded, everything had to be quiet. Slaves on our place +worked Saturday afternoons the same as any other day. On Saturday nights +the young folks and a few of the older folks danced. Some of them got +passes from Marse John so they could visit around. They popped corn, +pulled candy, or just sat around and talked. Those of us who desired +went to Sunday School and church on Sundays; others stayed at home and +did their washing and ironing, and there was always plenty of that to be +done. + +"Christmas was a grand time at Marse John's. We had everything good to +eat under the sun at that time and, as my mother was the cook, I was +sure of getting my share of the good things. Miss Fannie and Miss Sue +played Santa Claus to slave children. I was sorry when Mary got too +smart and peeped to see what it was all about, for after that they just +came to our house and handed us the things that would have come as Santa +Claus. + +"New Year's Day was no different from other days, except that Marse John +gave the grown folks whiskey to drink that day like he did on Christmas +morning. They couldn't risk giving slaves much whiskey because it made +them mean, and then they would fight the white folks. They had to be +mighty careful about things like that in order to keep down uprisings. + +"My mother went to cornshuckings, cotton pickings, and quiltings. They +must have had wonderful times, to hear her tell it. She said that after +the corn was shucked, cotton picked, or quilts quilted, they always gave +them plenty of good things to eat and drink and let them aloose to enjoy +themselves for the balance of the night. Those things took place at +harvest time, and everyone looked forward to having a good time at that +season. Mother said that Marse John was particular with his slaves, and +wouldn't let them go just anywhere to these things. + +"About the only game I can remember playing as a child was a doll game. +The Crawford children would use me for the doll, and then when my turn +came to play mamma and claim one of them for my doll, Miss Fanny or Miss +Sue would appear and then I would have to be a doll for them. I didn't +mind, for I dearly loved them all. + +"Now about Raw Head and Bloody Bones; I am going to tell you, Miss, my +Marster's people were cultured and refined, and they wouldn't allow such +things told to their own children or to their slaves' children. They +didn't want anything said or done to frighten any little children, and +if a nurse or anyone else was caught doing such a thing, that person was +punished for it. With the heritage of training like that I could hardly +be expected to believe in such things. + +"Marse John was grand to sick slaves. He always sent for Dr. Moore, who +would make his examination and write out his prescription. When he left +his parting word was usually 'Give him a sound thrashing and he will get +better.' Of course he didn't mean that; it was his little joke. Dr. +Holt, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. Jones Long were sometimes called in for +consultation on particularly serious cases. We didn't like Dr. Moore and +usually begged for one of the other doctors. I don't think my white +folks used teas made of herbs, leaves or roots; they may have, but I +don't remember it. However, I do know that we wore little sacks of +asafetida around our necks to keep off diseases, and the white folks +wore it too. + +"On the day we learned of the surrender, the Negroes rallied around the +liberty flag pole that they set up near where the city hall is now. All +day long they cut up and there was a song they sung that day that went +something like this: + + 'We rally around the flag pole of liberty, + The Union forever, Hurrah! Boys Hurrah!' + +"Next morning when the Negroes got up the white folks had cut that pole +down. We were mortally afraid of the Yankees when they appeared here a +short time after the surrender. We were afraid of the Ku Klux Klan +riders too. The Negroes did act so bad; there were lots of killings +going on for a long time after the war was supposed to be over. + +"Mother was glad and sorry too that she was free. Marse John had been so +good to all his slaves that none of them really wanted to leave him. We +stayed on a while, then mother left and rented a room. She worked hard +and bought a house as soon as she could; others did the same. There were +very few slaves that had any money at all to begin on. + +"Immediately following the surrender northern people opened Knox +Institute. One of my teachers was Miss Dora Brooks, a white woman from +the North. The principal was a white man, he was Mr. Sortur. After I +graduated from Knox Institute, I went to the Atlanta University four +years, then came back to Athens and taught school here forty years. I +taught whatever grade they assigned me to each year, never any certain +grade from year to year. First and last, I've taught from first grade +through high school. I would be teaching now if it were not for my bad +health. I receive a teacher's pension, but have never applied for an old +age pension. + +"My husband was Samuel B. Davis, publisher of the _Athens Clipper_. I +published this newspaper myself for a short while after his death, then +sold it. We didn't have a big wedding, just a very simple one at my +mother's house. I was married in a nice white dress, but it was nothing +fancy. Our two children were born dead. Once I had a nice home, +beautifully furnished. All I have left of it is this old house and my +good bedroom suite. The rest of my possessions have gotten away from me +during my continued illness. + +"I often think of Abraham Lincoln; he did a good deed for my race. Jeff +Davis was a good man and, no doubt, he thought he was doing the right +thing. Booker T. Washington was a man of brilliant mind, but he was +radically wrong in many of his views pertaining to education of the +black race. He lectured here once, but I didn't bother to hear him +speak. + +"Yes Mam, indeed I had rather be free. Oh! religion is glorious. If God +has set you free from the bonds and penalties of sin, I think you ought +to live up to your Lord's commands. I dearly love to go to church and +hear the preacher tell of God. It gives me strength to live until He is +ready for me to go. + +"Now, Miss, I hope I have told you what you wanted to know, but I must +admit the things that took place way back there are rather vague in my +mind. I'm an old woman and my mind is not as clear as it once was. Next +week, if I am strong enough to make the trip, I am going to spend the +day with Mary Colbert, and go over the old times you and I have +discussed. She remembers them better than I do, because she is older." + + + + +Whitley +[HW: Unedited +Atlanta] +E. Driskell + +EX-SLAVE MOSE DAVIS +[APR 8 1937] + + +In one of Atlanta's many alleys lives Mose Davis, an ex-slave who was +born on a very large plantation 12 miles from Perry, Georgia. His master +was Colonel Davis, a very rich old man, who owned a large number of +slaves in addition to his vast property holdings. Mose Davis says that +all the buildings on this plantation were whitewashed, the lime having +been secured from a corner of the plantation known as "the lime sink". +Colonel Davis had a large family and so he had to have a large house to +accommodate these members. The mansion, as it was called, was a great +big three-storied affair surrounded by a thick growth of cedar trees. + +Mose's parents, Jennie and January Davis, had always been the property +of the Davis family, naturally he and his two brothers and two sisters +never knew any other master than "The Old Colonel". + +Mr. Davis says that the first thing he remembers of his parents is being +whipped by his mother who had tied him to the bed to prevent his running +away. His first recollection of his father is seeing him take a drink of +whiskey from a five gallon jug. When asked if this was'nt against the +plantation rules "Uncle Mose" replied: "The Colonel was one of the +biggest devils you ever seen--he's the one that started my daddy to +drinking. Sometimes he used to come to our house to git a drink +hisself". + +Mose's Father was the family coachman. "All that he had to do was to +drive the master and his family and to take care of the two big grey +horses that he drove. Compared to my mother and the other slaves he had +an easy time," said Uncle Mose, shaking his head and smiling: "My daddy +was so crazy about the white folks and the horses he drove until I +believe he thought more of them than he did of me. One day while I was +in the stable with him one of the horses tried to kick me and when I +started to hit him Daddy cussed me and threatned to beat me." + +His mother, brothers, and sisters, were all field hands, but there was +never any work required of Mose, who was play-mate and companion to +Manning, the youngest of Colonel Davis' five sons. These two spent most +of the time fishing and hunting. Manning had a pony and buggy and +whenever he went to town he always took Mose along. + +Field hands were roused, every morning by the overseer who rang the +large bell near the slave quarters. Women [TR: and] young children were +permitted to remain at home until 9 o'clock to prepare breakfast. At 9 +o'clock these women had to start to the fields where they worked along +with the others until sundown. The one break in the day's work was the +noon dinner hour. Field hands planted and tended cotton, corn, and the +other produce grown on the plantation until harvest time when everybody +picked cotton. Slaves usually worked harder during the picking season +than at any other time. After harvest, the only remaining work was +cleaning out fence corners, splitting rails building fences and numerous +other minor tasks. In hot weather, the only work was shelling corn. +There was no Sunday work other than caring for the stock. + +On this plantation there were quite a few skilled slaves mostly +blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, plasterers, and a cobbler. One of +Mose's brothers was a carpenter. + +All slaves too old for field work remained at home where some took care +of the young children, while others worked in the loom houses helping +make the cloth and the clothing used on the plantation. Since no work +was required at night, this time was utilized by doing personal work +such as the washing and the repairing of clothing, etc. + +On the Fourth of July or at Christmas Colonel Davis always had a +festival for all his slaves. Barbecue was served and there was much +singing and dancing. These frolics were made merrier by the presence of +guests from other plantations. Music was furnished by some of the slaves +who also furnished music at the mansion whenever the Col. or some of the +members of his family had a party. There was also a celebration after +the crops had been gathered. + +Although there was only one distribution of clothing per year nobody +suffered from the lack of clothes because this one lot had enough to +last a year if properly cared for. The children wore one piece garments, +a cross between a dress and a slightly lengthened shirt, made of +homespun or crocus material [TR note: "crocus" is a coarse, loosely +woven material like burlap]. No shoes were given them until winter and +then they got the cast-offs of the grown ups. The men all wore pants +made of material known as "ausenberg". The shirts and under wear were +made of another cotton material. Dresses for the women were of striped +homespun. All shoes were made on the premises of the heaviest leather, +clumsely fashioned and Uncle Mose says that slaves like his father who +worked in the mansion, were given much better clothing. His father +received of "The Colonel" and his grown sons many discarded clothes. One +of the greatest thrills of Mose's boyhood was receiving first pair of +"ausenberg" pants. As his mother had already taught him to knit (by +using four needles at one time) all that he had to do was to go to his +hiding place and get the socks that he had made. + +None of the clothing worn by the slaves on this particular plantation +was bought. Everything was made by the slaves, even to the dye that was +used. + +Asked if there was sufficient food for all slaves, Uncle Mose said "I +never heard any complaints." At the end of each week every family was +given some fat meat, black molasses, meal and flour in quantity varying +with the size of the family. At certain intervals during the week, they +were given vegetables. Here too, as in everything else, Mose's father +was more fortunate than the others, since he took all his meals at the +mansion where he ate the same food served to the master and his family. +The only difference between Week-day and Sunday diet was that biscuits +were served on Sundays. The children were given only one biscuit each. +In addition to the other bread was considered a delicacy. All food stuff +was grown on the plantation. + +The slave quarters were located a short distance below the mansion. The +cabins one-roomed weatherboard structures were arranged so as to form a +semi-circle. There was a wide tree-lined road leading from the master's +home to these cabins. + +Furnishings of each cabin consisted of one or two benches, a bed, and a +few cooking utensils. These were very crude, especially the beds. Some +of them had four posts while the ends of others were nailed to the +walls. All lumber used in their construction was very heavy and rough. +Bed springs were unheard of--wooden slats being used for this purpose. +The mattresses were large ausenberg bags stuffed to capacity with hay, +straw, or leaves. Uncle Mose told about one of the slaves, named Ike, +whose entire family slept on bare pine straw. His children were among +the fattest on the plantation and when Colonel Davis tried to make him +put this straw in a bag he refused claiming that the pine needles kept +his children healthy. + +The floors and chimneys on the Davis Plantation were made of wood and +brick instead of dirt and mud as was the case on many of the other +surrounding plantations. One window (with shutters instead of window +panes) served the purpose of ventilation and light. At night pine knots +or candles gave light. The little cooking that the slaves did at home +was all done at the open fireplace. + +Near the living quarters was a house known as the "chillun house." All +children too young for field work stayed at this house in the care of +the older slave women. There was no hospital building on the premises. +The sick had to remain in their individual cabins where they too were +cared for by slaves too old for field work. + +Only one family lived in a cabin. Mose's mother and father each had a +separate cabin. He did not explain the reason for this but said that he +was made to live in his father's cabin. Whenever he could, (usually when +his father was away with the Colonel for a day or two) he stayed in his +mothers cabin. "The only difference between the houses we lived in +during slavery and those that some of us live in now who said is that we +had more room there than we have now." He says that even the community +cook house was larger than some of the living quarters of today. All +cabins were white washed the same as the other buildings on the +plantation, and the occupants were required to keep the interiors and +the surrounding clean at all times. The overseer's cabin was located a +short distance away from the slave cabins, so that it would be easier +for him to keep check on his charges. + +There was little if any sickness but Colonel Davis employed a doctor who +visited the plantation each week. On other occasions the overseer +administered such remedies as castor oil, turpentine, etc., and the +slaves had remedies of their own. For stomach ache they used a tea made +of Jimson weeds. Another medicine was heart leaf tea. Manual and +religious training were the only types allowed on the plantation. Trades +like carpentry, blacksmithing, etc. were learned from the white +mechanics sometimes employed by Colonel Davis. All slaves were required +to attend church and a special building was known as "Davis' Chapel." A +Negro preacher officiated and no white people were present. Uncle Mose +doesn't know what was preached as he and Manning always slipped into +town on Sundays to see the girls. Uncle Mose says he and Manning were +together so much that occasionally they even slept in the same +bed,--sometimes in Manning's house and sometimes at his own house. + +A pool for baptism was filled with well water. The colored pastor +performed all baptisms and marriages. + +Book learning was prohibited in any form. Sometimes Mose tried to +persuade Manning to teach him to read and write but Manning always +refused. Mose's cousin who was taught to read and write forged Colonel +Davis' name to a check and drew the money from the bank before the hand +writing was discovered. For this act he was given a sound whipping and +assigned to hard labor by the master, "And", said Uncle Mose, "he didn't +even have the pleasure of spending one penny". When asked if his cousin +was arrested and placed in jail he replied that the jails were not for +the slaves, as their punishment was usually left to their individual +masters. When his cousin was whipped this was an exception to "The +Colonel's rule"; he was entirely against any form of whipping. His usual +method of punishment was to cut off individual privileges for a limited +amount of time (in proportion to the nature of the offense), along with +an assignment of extra heavy work. + +The fame of the "Paddle-Rollers" was widespread among the slaves, but +none of Colonel Davis' servants attempted to run away or leave the +plantation often without the required pass (if they did they were never +caught). + +There was very little talk on the plantation about the actual beginning +of the Civil War. Slaves was very guarded in their talk as they feared +the master's wrath. Uncle Mose thought little or nothing about the War +and had even less to say. + +When the Yankee soldiers came to the plantation they drove wagons to the +smoke house and took all the meat away. "The funny part about it was +that "The Colonel" had taken shelter in this particular house when he +saw the Yankees coming," said Uncle Mose. "He didn't have time to hide +any of his other belongings." When the soldiers had left, The Colonel +looked around and said to Manning and Mose: "Just like I get that, I +guess I can get some more." + +Uncle Mose says that when freedom was declared, his father came rushing +to their cabin waving his arms like a windmill, shouting: "Boy we is +free--you can go and git yourself a job 'cause I ain't goin' to hitch up +no more horses". Some of the slaves remained on the plantation where +they worked for wages until their deaths. His father was one of them and +after his death, his mother moved to another plantation to live with +another son. Meanwhile Mose started traveling from place to place as +soon as he was told that he was free to go as he pleased. He paid one +visit to the plantation where he learned of his father's death. He then +asked Manning, who was operating the plantation, for the ox that had +belonged to his father and when Manning refused to part with this +animal, he made a secret visit back, that night, and took the animal +away. He has not been back since. + +At this time Mr. Davis stretched himself, saying: "Well, I guess that's +about as straight as I can get it--Wish that I could tell you some more +but I can't." Smiling broadly, he bade the interviewer a pleasant +good-bye. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +IKE DERRICOTTE, Age 78 +554 Hancock Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Grace McCune +Athens + +Edited by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + +August 19, 1938 + +[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.] + + +Ike Derricotte's brown-painted, frame bungalow, well back from the +street, faces a wide grassy yard where tall pecan trees provide summer +shade and winter nuts. + +A mulatto woman answered the knock at the front door. Her long, +straight, white hair was neatly arranged in a low-pinned coil at the +back of her head. Her print frock and white shoes were immaculate. "Yes +Mam, Ike is at home," was the answer to the inquiry for her husband. +"Jus' have a seat on de porch here 'cause it's so much cooler dan inside +de house, and I'll call Ike. He's jus' piddlin' 'round de back yard dis +mornin'." + +Almost at once a tall, well-built man of gingercake color appeared. He +wore an old black cap, blue work shirt, blue wool trousers, and black +shoes. "Howdy-do, Miss! Did you want to see me?" was his greeting. His +eyes sparkled when he learned that we wished to record the story of his +life. "Yes Mam, I'll be glad to tell you what I kin," he promised, "and +Miss, I'll jus' bet I kin tell you somepin dat very few folks kin say +'bout dem old days. I was born right here on dis same street, and I'm +still livin' on it, but dis house and lot ain't my birthplace. When I +was born, dis section was mostly in woods. Jus' look at it now; houses +has been built up and down both sides of what was den jus' de big road. +Times has changed in lots of ways since dem days. + +"My mother's name was Myra, and she was a laundry 'oman owned by Mr. +Stevens Thomas. Mr. Thomas was one of de biggest merchants in Athens dem +days. He owned de square between Thomas Street and Wall Street, and it +s'tended back to Clayton Street. + +"William Derricotte was my father, and he belonged to Col. Robert +Thomas. My father spent most of his time beautifyin' de yards 'round de +big house, and in dese days and times he would be called a landscape +gardener. Dey jus' called 'em yard boys den. Atter Pa and Ma was +married, Marster Stevens sold Ma to Marster Robert, so dat dey could be +together. Mr. Robert Thomas' place was right up dis same old street, +whar de Y.W.C.A. is now, and right dar is whar I was born. Dat was in +1860, a long time ago; and lots of things has happened since den. Lots +of people has moved away and lots more has died out, 'til dere ain't +many of de folks left here dat lived in Athens den. De Thomases, +Dorseys, and Phinizys was some of de oldest families here. + +"I was too little to know much about de war but, little as I was, dere's +one thing dat's still as fresh in my memory now as den, and dat's how +people watched and waited to hear dat old Georgia train come in. Not +many folks was able to take de papers den, and de news in 'em was from +one to two weeks old when dey got here. All de men dat was able to fight +was off at de front and de folks at home was anxious for news. De way +dat old train brought 'em de news was lak dis: if de southern troops was +in de front, den dat old whistle jus' blowed continuously, but if it +was bad news, den it was jus' one short, sharp blast. In dat way, from +de time it got in hearin', evvybody could tell by de whistle if de news +was good or bad and, believe me, evvybody sho' did listen to dat train. + +"Times was hard durin' de war but from what I've heared de folks dat was +old folks den say, dey warn't near as bad here as in lots of other +places. Yes Mam! Sho' I kin 'member dem Yankees comin' here, but dat was +atter de war was done over. Dey camped right here on Hancock Avenue. +Whar dey camped was mostly woods den, and deir camp reached nearly all +de way to whar Milledge Avenue is now. Us chillun was scared to death of +dem soldiers and stayed out of deir way all us could. My Marster, Mr. +Stevens Thomas, hid all of his family's silver and other valuables dat +could be put out of sight, for dem Yankees jus' went 'round takin' +whatever dey wanted. Dey stole all kinds of food out of de homes, went +into de smokehouses and got hams, and cotched up de chickens. Dey jus' +reached out and tuk what dey wanted and laughed about it lak dey hadn't +been stealin'. + +"Dem Yankees brought de smallpox here wid 'em and give it to all de +Athens folks, and dat was somepin awful. Folks jus' died out wid it so +bad. Dey built a hospital what dey called de 'pest house' out whar de +stockade is now. It was rough and small but I reckon it helped some. It +warn't near large enough for all de folks dat was sick wid smallpox at +one time, and so dey finally got to whar dey used it jus' for de colored +folks, 'cause it seemed dat smallpox went harder wid dem dan wid de +white folks. + +"When de war ended us didn't leave Mr. Stevens Thomas. Ma kept on +cookin' and wukin' 'round de house, and Pa wuked lots for other folks, +larned to do brick-work, build walls, and things lak dat. Atter he got +to be a brickmason he allus had plenty to do. + +"Marbles was de favorite game of de chillun dem days but us never got to +play much lak chillun does dese days, 'cause times was so hard right +atter de war dat as soon as chillun got big enough dey had to go to wuk. +Some of our very best times was at de old swimmin' hole. Us dammed up +dat little crick right back of whar de Seaboard Depot is now and it made +a fine pool to swim in. It was cool for it was shady off down dar in de +woods, and us spent many a hour dar on days as hot as dis one is. When +dey missed us at home, dat was de fust place dey thought of when dey +come to hunt us. I had some mighty good times in dat crick and I +couldn't begin to count de duckin's I got dar and de whuppin's my Ma and +Pa give me for stayin' so long. + +"De biggest time in all de year was de Commencement Day; evvybody got +busy and fixed up for dat. My Marster allus had lots of company at +commencement times, and us had de most good things to eat. Out in town +dey was 'pared for it too. Tables was all along de sidewalks whar you +could buy any kind of 'freshments you wanted. Course dere warn't as many +kinds of 'freshments den as dey has now, but dere was allus plenty of de +strong sort. One time durin' commencement week, Ma give me a whole +quarter to spend. I was de happiest and de richest boy in dis town; +jus' had more money to spend dan anybody, and I walked de streets from +one table to another tryin' to see whar I was gwine to spend all dat +money." Here, Ike laughed heartily. "Miss," he said, "you jus' never +could guess what I spent all dat money for. I bought a whole quarter's +worth of ginger-cakes and lit out for de swimmin' hole. Us chillun had a +fine time down at de swimmin' hole dat day. De Cobbs and Lumpkins owned +all dat land in dar 'round our swimmin' hole den. Dey owned from de +Catholic Church straight through to College Avenue. + +"I mighty well 'member de fust wuk I ever done. I was still jus' a +little fellow when Miss Belle Brumby told Ma she wanted me for a butler +boy and dat she would pay me $2.50 a month. I jus' jumped up and down +and begged her to let me wuk for Miss Belle. Why, I jus' knowed I would +git rich right away, 'cause $2.50 was a mighty lot of money." Ike +laughed as he said: "How many boys would wuk for dat pay for a week now, +let alone a whole month? Ma did let me wuk for Miss Belle and I was +happy, but I know my Mist'ess had a time wid me 'cause, when I got on +dat white coat dey let me wear to wait on de table, I knowed more dan +evvybody else put together and dere couldn't nobody tell me how to keep +de flies off de table. Miss Belle is one fine 'oman, dey jua' don't come +no finer and no better. + +"When I was fourteen my Pa hired me out to be a shoemaker. De shop whar +I was 'prenticed was down on Broad Street, jus' about whar de Bernstein +Furniture Store is now. Dat old buildin' was tore down long years ago +and evvything 'long dar is changed now. De Athens Hardware Store is de +only Broad Street business of dem days dat has stood in de same place +and endured through all dese years. + +"When I went to wuk for Mr. Joe Barry in his shoe shop on Jackson +Street, right in back of whar Mr. Lee Morris' store is now, I felt lak I +had got to be a real sho' 'nough important shoemaker. I wuked for him +'bout 12 or 14 years. He was a good man to wuk for and he was de only +shoemaker I ever knowed to git rich at his trade; he really did make +money in dat shop. I've been a shoemaker ever since 1874, but I never +have been able to git far ahead. In spite of all our trouble for 85 +years atter de war, it seems to me dat times was much better den dan dey +is now. Course, folks didn't make as much den as dey does now. +Carpenters, bricklayers, shoemakers, in fact 'most any kind of laborers +who got from $1.00 to $1.50 a day thought dey had fine wages den. Boys +was paid from $2.50 to $5.00 a month. Cooks got $5.00 to $6.00 a month, +and of course, dey got deir meals whar dey wuked. Sometimes odds and +ends of old clothes was give to 'em, and dey got along very well, even +if most of 'em did have families and big families at dat. Folks could +live on less den 'cause things was cheaper. You could git meal for 50¢ a +bushel; side meat was 5¢ to 6¢ a pound; and you could git a 25-pound +sack of flour for 50¢. Wood was 50¢ a load. House rent was so cheap dat +you didn't have to pay over $3.00 a month for a 2 or 3 room house, and +lots of times you got it cheaper. Most evvybody wore clothes made out of +homespun cloth and jeans, and dey didn't know nothin' 'bout ready-made, +store-bought clothes. Dem clothes what dey made at home didn't cost very +much. Livin' was cheap, but folks lived mighty well in dem days. + +"Us has been married more dan 50 years and dey has all been happy years. +Us has had our troubles and hard luck, but dey come to evvybody. De Lord +has been mighty good to us, 'specially in lettin' us be together so +long. It was what you might call a case of love at fust sight wid us. I +was visitin' down at Camak, Georgia at Christmastime. She lived at +Sparta, and was spendin' Christmas at Camak too, but I didn't see her +'til I was 'bout to leave for Athens. I jus' thought I never could go +'way atter I fust seed her, but I did, and I didn't git to see her again +for 12 long months. Us writ to one another all dat year and got married +at Christmastime, one year from de time us fust met. + +"Us has still got dat old pen I used when I writ and axed her to marry +me; I'd lak to show it to you. 'Scuse me please whilst I goes in de +house to git it." Soon Ike returned. "Ain't it a sight?" he proudly +exclaimed as he displayed the relic. "I made it up myself in December +1886 and it got her consent to marry me, so I'se kept it ever since. My +wife and me wouldn't part wid it for nothin'." The wooden pen staff is +very smooth as though from long usage except at the tip end, where it +appears to have been gnawed. It looks very much as though Ike may have +chewed on it as he wrote that all important letter. The iron pen point, +much too large to fit the standard grooves of the ordinary pen staff, +was placed on the staff and tightly wrapped. After 52 years of service +the pen point and its staff are still in good condition. Ike has the +Prince Albert coat that he wore on his wedding day and he insists that +it looks and fits as well now as it did on the occasion of his marriage. +"I'm keepin' de coat and pen for our chillun," he declared. + +Before resuming the conversation, Ike went back in the house to put the +treasured pen away. In a few moments he returned. "God has been good to +us," he said, "for He let us have all nine of our chillun 'til dey was +grown up. Us wuked mighty hard to raise 'em and give all of 'em a good +education. Dat was somepin us couldn't have when us was growin' up and +I'm thankful to be able to say dat us was able to send 'em all to +college. Four of our chillun has gone on ahead to de next world, and de +five dat's left is scattered from place to place; none of 'em is wid us +now, but dey don't forgit us. Dey writes to us and visits us often and +us goes to see dem. One son is goin' mighty well as a lawyer in +Washin'ton, D.C., and our baby lives in New York City. It's been 'bout 3 +years now since my daughter Juliette died atter a automobile wreck near +Dalton, Georgia. Did you know 'bout Juliette? She give her life to wuk +for de Y.W.C.A., and she went all over de world tryin' to make things +better for de young women of our race. Somebody writ a memorial book +'bout her. I wish dere was a copy of dat book here for you to see, but +it was borrowed from us and it ain't been returned. + +"Did you know I had jus' come back from Washin'ton, whar I visited dat +lawyer son of mine? He sends for me nearly evvy summer and I enjoy +visitin' dar, but I wouldn't lak to live up dar 'cause dem folks ain't +lak our own southern people. I must say dey is mighty nice and good to +me when I goes dar though. Once when I was dar somebody told me dat if I +wanted to have a good time I mustn't let nobody know I was a Georgian +'cause dey said dat de northerners don't lak our State. De rest of de +time I was dar on dat visit I tuk partic'lar pleasure in tellin' +evvybody how proud I was of my State and my home. + +"Dat reminds me of Miss Sally Hodgson. She was in de North, and one +evenin' she was tryin' to tell de folks up dar dat de southern people +warn't as bad as some of de Yankees had said dey was, and dat de white +folks down South didn't mistreat de colored folks. Miss Sally said dat +de very next mornin' de papers up dar was full of news 'bout de lynchin' +of 8 Negroes in one night at Watkinsville. If you had knowed Miss Sally, +you would know how funny dat was," Ike laughed. "She said atter dat dere +warn't no way she could convince dem folks up dar dat Georgia was a good +place to live in. + +"Us had some good friends in de North and sometimes dey comes down here +to see us. One of my wife's friends, a 'oman wid a lot of education has +jus' gone back to Philadelphia atter a visit here in our home. Us +travels a good deal and us has found dat de world ain't so large but dat +us is allus runnin' up against somebody dat us knows wherever us goes. + +"Sometimes when you is in a strange place it's mighty handy to find +somebody you have knowed a long time ago. I 'member one time when I was +visitin' in Washin'ton and wanted to git a glimpse of de President. I +didn't say nothin' to nobody 'bout what was on my mind, but atter my son +went to his wuk in de mornin' I slipped off to de capitol widout tellin' +nobody whar I was gwine. I found a waitin' room outside de President's +office and I made up my mind I would set dar 'til de President had to go +out for dinner or to go home for supper. I never thought about he might +have a side door he could come and go from widout usin' de door to de +waitin' room. Atter I had set dar in dat waitin' room de best part of +two days watchin' for de President, somebody said: 'Howdy, Uncle Ike! +What is you doin' here in de President's waitin' room?' I looked up and +dar stood Albon Holsey. He had growed up in Athens. He was de boy dey +'signed to wait on President Taft when he was at Miss Maggie Welch's +home for a day and night in January 'fore he was inaugurated. I bet +Albon is still got dat $5.00 Mr. Taft give him de mornin' he left +Athens, but he don't need to spend it now 'cause folks say he got rich +off of his chain of stores for colored folks, and anyhow he's got a fine +job dese days. Well, I s'plained to Albon dat I was jus' waitin' to git +a peep at de President whenever he happened to pass through dat room. +Albon he smiled sort of wise-like. He tuk out one of his cyards and writ +sompin on it, and axed a lady to take it right in to de President. She +warn't gone 2 minutes 'fore she come back and said: 'De President will +see Mr. Holsey and his friend now.' I was wuss skeered dan I has ever +been at any other time in my life. Us walked in and I was 'fraid de +President could hear my knees knockin' together, and my heart was +beatin' so fast and loud it seemed to me lak it was 'bout to bust. De +President spoke to us and when he found out dat I was from Athens, he +axed me lots of questions. He said dat he was interested in Athens. Soon +Albon said us must be goin' and when us got out of dar I was right weak, +but I was might proud and happy to think de President had tuk time to +talk pleasant lak wid a pore old Negro shoemaker. + +"Another time in Washin'ton a friend of my son's tuk me to a club one +night whar some of de richest of our race is members. Dat night I met a +man who had went to school wid de Mr. Teddy Roosevelt dat was President +atter Mr. McKinley; den I met another Negro dat had been a classmate of +President Hoover and one dat went to school wid President Franklin D. +Roosevelt. It's right strange how dey all heads for Washin'ton, D.C. to +stay. + +"Athens has allus been a real quiet town, and dere never was no real +serious trouble here 'tween de races, not even when Matt Davis and Pink +Morton was Postmasters here. People was allus predictin' trouble 'bout +dat, but de folks here was too level-headed for dat. Dey knowed dey +could straighten out deir own troubles widout havin' to fly off de +handle in a race riot, and so dey 'tended to deir own business' and de +races got along all right through it all. + +"Atter all, Athens is a good place to live in. Here us has de best +neighbors in de world; dey's allus ready to look atter one another in +times of sickness and trouble. Wid de kind of good, Christian folks dat +lives here, Athens is bound to go ahead." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +BENNY DILLARD, Age 80 +Cor. Broad and Derby Streets +Athens, Ga. + +Written by: +Grace McCune [HW: (white)] +Athens + +Edited by: Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + + +Benny's rocky little yard is gay with flowers and a flourishing rose +vine shades the small porch at the front of his ramshackle two-room +cabin. The old Negro was busily engaged at washing his clothes. He is of +medium size, darker than gingerbread in color, and his clothing on this +day consisted of a faded blue shirt, pants adorned with many patches, +and brogans. A frayed sun hat covered the gray hair that is "gittin' +mighty thin on de top of my haid." + +Benny was singing as he worked and his quavering old voice kept tune and +rhythm to a remarkable degree as he carefully and distinctly pronounced: + + "Jesus will fix it for you, + Just let Him have His way + He knows just how to do, + Jesus will fix it for you." + +Almost in the same breath he began another song: + + "All my sisters gone, + Mammy and Daddy too + Whar would I be if it warn't + For my Lord and Marster." + +About this time he looked up and saw his visitor. Off came the old sun +hat as he said: "'Scuse me, Missy, I didn't know nobody was listenin' to +dem old songs. I loves to sing 'em when I gits lonesome and blue. But +won't you come up on my porch and have a cheer in de shade? Dere's a +good breeze on dat little porch." Having placed a chair for the visitor +and made himself comfortable on a crude bench, Benny began his story: + +"Missy, de good Lord gives and he takes away, and us old darkies is +a-passin' out of dis world. Dat was why I was a-singin'. One of my +bestest friends done passed on to Glory dis very mornin'. I knows I'se +goin' to miss old Randal Clayton 'cause both of us warn't no good but +for to set and talk 'bout old times." Tears rolled down his face as he +told of his friend, and the visitor, fearful that he was too much +overcome by grief to be able to give a good story, suggested that +another engagement be made to record his reminiscences, but he objected. +"Lawsy, Missy!" he protested. "Please don't go now, for dem old times is +on my mind today and I would so love to talk 'bout 'em now, if you don't +mind. If I talks too much, jus' tell me, 'cause I'se mighty apt to do +dat when onct I gits started. + +"My Mammy and Daddy, dey warn't from dis part of de country. My Mammy +said dat not long atter she got to America from a trip on de water dat +took nigh 6 months to make, dey brung her from Virginny and sold her +down here in Georgy when she was jus' 'bout 16 years old. De onliest +name she had when she got to Georgy was Nancy. I don't know whar my +Daddy come from. Him and Mammy was both sold to Marse Isaac Dillard and +he tuk 'em to live on his place in Elbert County, close to de place dey +calls Goose Pond. Dey lived at home on dat big old plantation. By dat, I +means dat Marse Isaac growed evvything needed to feed and clothe his +folks 'cept de little sugar, coffee, and salt dey used. I don't 'member +so much 'bout times 'fore de big war 'cause I warn't but 6 years old +when us was made free. Tellin' de slaves dey was free didn't make much +diff'unce on our place, for most of 'em stayed right on dar and wukked +wid Old Marster jus' lak dey allus done. Dat plantation was jus' lak a +little town, it was so big and it had evvything us wanted and needed. + +"Slaves lived in log cabins what had red mud daubed in de cracks 'twixt +de logs. De roofs was made out of boards what had so many cracks 'twixt +'em, atter a few rains made 'em swink (shrink), dat us could lay in bed +and see de stars through dem big holes. Even if us did have leaky +houses, folkses didn't git sick half as much as dey does now. Our +homemade beds was made out of rough planks nailed to high poles; +leastways de poles was high for de headpieces, and a little lower for de +footpieces. For most of dem beds, planks was nailed to de wall for one +long side and dere was two laigs to make it stand straight on de other +long side. Dey never seed no metal springs dem days but jus' wove cords +back and forth, up and down and across, to lay de mattress on. I never +seed no sto'-bought bed 'til atter I was married. Bedticks was made out +of homespun cloth stuffed wid wheatstraw, and sometimes dey slept on rye +or oatstraw. Pillows was stuffed wid hay what had a little cotton mixed +in it sometimes. Atter a long day of wuk in de fields, nobody bothered +'bout what was inside dem pillows. Dey slept mighty good lak dey was. +Dey fixed planks to slide across de inside of de holes dey cut out for +windows. De doors swung on pegs what tuk de place of de iron hinges dey +uses dese days. Dem old stack chimblies was made out of sticks and red +mud. + +"De fireplaces was a heap bigger dan dey has now, for all de cookin' was +done in open fireplaces den. 'Taters and cornpone was roasted in de +ashes and most of de other victuals was biled in de big old pots what +swung on cranes over de coals. Dey had long-handled fryin' pans and +heavy iron skillets wid big, thick, tight-fittin' lids, and ovens of all +sizes to bake in. All of dem things was used right dar in de fireplace. +Dere never was no better tastin' somepin t'eat dan dat cooked in dem old +cook-things in open fireplaces. + +"Chillun never had no wuk to do. Dey jus' et and frolicked around +gittin' into evvything dey could find. Dey never got no lickin's 'less +dey was mighty bad, 'cause our Marster said he warn't gwine to 'low no +beatin' on his Niggers 'cept what he done his own self, and dat was +pow'ful little. In hot weather chillun played on de crick and de best +game of all was to play lak it was big meetin' time. White chillun loved +to play dar too wid de little slave chillun. Us would have make-believe +preachin' and baptizin' and de way us would sing was a sight. One of dem +songs us chillun loved de best went lak dis: + + 'Why does you thirst + By de livin' stream? + And den pine away + And den go to die. + + 'Why does you search + For all dese earthly things? + When you all can + Drink at de livin' spring, + And den can live.' + +"When us started playin' lak us was baptizin' 'em, us th'owed all us +could ketch right in de crick, clothes and all, and ducked 'em. Whilst +us was doin' dat, us was singin': + + 'Git on board, git on board + For de land of many mansions, + Same old train dat carried + My Mammy to de Promised Land.' + +"One day our Marster hid in de trees and watched us 'cause Mist'ess had +done been fussin' down 'bout chillun all comin' in soaked to de hide. He +waited 'til he seed all de preachin' and baptizin', den he hollered for +us to stop and he tuk de ones what was doin' all de baptizin' and made +'em pray and sing, den he ducked 'em good in de water and made us all go +up to de house to show Mist'ess how come so many of dem pore chillun +had done been gittin' wet so much. Us got a tannin' den dat Marster +'lowed would help us to git sho' 'nough 'ligion. + +"De wooden bowls what slave chillun et out of was made out of sweetgum +trees. Us et wid mussel shells 'stid of spoons. Dem mussel shells was +all right. Us could use 'em to git up plenty of bread and milk, or +cornpone soaked wid peas and pot likker. Dey never let chillun have no +meat 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Us had biscuit once a +week, dat was Sunday breakfast, and dem biscuits was cakebread to us. De +fust bought meat us chillun ever seed was a slab of side-meat Daddy got +from de sto' atter us had done left de plantation, and us was skeered to +eat it 'cause it warn't lak what us had been used to. + +"Chillun jus' wore one piece of clothes in summertime and dey all went +bar'foots. De gals' summer gyarment was a plain, sleeveless apron dress, +and de boys wore skimpy little shirts and nothin' else. Dey mixed +cow-hair wid de cotton when dey wove de cloth to make our winter clothes +out of, and I'm a-tellin' you Missy, dat cow-hair cloth sho' could +scratch, but it was good and warm and Marster seed to it dat us had all +de clothes us needed. De 'omans made all de cloth used on de place; dey +cyarded, spun, and den wove it. Mammy was de weaver; dat was all she +done, jus' wove cloth. Dey dyed it wid red mud and ink balls, and sich +lak. + +"Marster never lakked to git up real early hisself in slavery time, so +he had one man what got de Niggers up out of bed so early dat dey had +done et breakfast and was in de field when daylight come. Atter de war +was over and evvybody was free, all de Niggers used to jus' piddle and +play 'round evvy mornin' whilst dey was waitin' for Marster to come. Dem +and de mules would be jus' a-standin' still and when de word was passed +dat Marster had done got up all of 'em would start off wid a rush, jus' +a-hollerin': 'Whoa, dar! Gee haw!' jus' lak dey had done been wukkin' +hard all mornin'. One day Marster cotch 'em at it, and he didn't say a +word 'til time come to pay off, and he tuk out for all de time dey had +lost. + +"Sometimes slaves run away and hid out in caves. Dey would pile up rocks +and sticks and pine limbs to hide de caves, and sometimes dey would stay +hid out for weeks, and de other Niggers would slip 'em somepin t'eat at +night. Dere warn't many what run off on our place, 'cause our Marster +was so good to all of 'em dat dere warn't nothin' to run from. + +"Marster made all his wuk tools at home. Plow-sheers was made out of +wood trimmed to de right shape and fastened to a iron point. When dey +was plowin' in de young cotton, dey nailed a board on one side of de +plow to rake de dirt back up 'round de cotton plants. + +"Marster's gin was turned by a mule. Dat big old gin wheel had wooden +cogs what made de gin wuk when de old mule went 'round and 'round +hitched to dat wheel. Dat old cotton press was a sight. Fust dey cut +down a big old tree and trimmed off de limbs and made grooves in it for +planks to fit in. It was stood up wid a big weight on top of it, over de +cotton what was to be pressed. It was wukked by a wheel what was turned +by a mule, jus' lak de one what turned de gin. A old mule pulled de pole +what turned de syrup mill too. Missy, dem old mules done deir part 'long +side de Niggers dem days, and Marster seed dat his mules had good keer +too. When dem mules had done turned de mill 'til de juice was squez out +of de sugarcane stalks, dey strained dat juice and biled it down 'til it +was jus' de finest tastin' syrup you ever did see. Marster's mill whar +he ground his wheat and corn was down on de crick, so de water could +turn de big old wheel. + +"Dem old cornshuckin's was sho' 'nough big times, 'cause us raised so +much corn dat it tuk several days to shuck it all. Us had to have two +generals. Dey chose sides and den dey got up on top of de biggest piles +of corn and kept de slaves a-singin' fast so dey would wuk fast. De fust +crowd what finished got de prize. Dere ain't much I can 'member of words +to dem old cornshuckin' songs. One general would start off singin': +'Shuck up dis corn, shuck up dis corn, 'cause us is gwine home,' and de +other general would be a-shoutin': 'Make dem shucks fly, make dem shucks +fly, us is gwine to go home.' Over and over dey kept on singin' dem +lines. Come nighttime Marster would have big bonfires built up and set +out torches for 'em to see how to wuk, and evvy time he passed 'round +dat jug of corn likker shucks would fly some faster. When all de corn +was done shucked and de big supper had been et, dere was wrastlin' +matches and dancin' and all sorts of frolickin'. + +"'Til dey could git a colored preacher, slaves had to go to church wid +deir white folks. Missy, I 'members yit, de fust preacher I ever heared. +He was a white man, Preacher Gibson dey called him, and his sermons made +you mind what you was 'bout 'cause he preached straight from de Bible. +Dat day when I fust heared him his text was: 'If you gits lost in sin, +den you is lost from God's word, and will have to be borned again.' +Dat's de trufe, Missy, it sho' is. Young folks dese days is headed plumb +straight for 'struction, 'cause dey won't listen to de Gospel. If dey +don't change from de way dey is goin' now de old debbil is gwine to +ketch 'em sho. All of us had better mind what us is 'bout, for 'ligion +most times now is by our own minds and thoughts, and somebody else is +apt to follow de 'ligion he sees in us. De Bible says to teach young +folks de way dey should go, and dey won't depart from deir raisin'. You +sho' can't raise 'em right by jus' teachin' 'em dese days; it evermore +do take plenty of layin' on of dat rod. I would jus' lak to see how dese +young folks would lak it if dey had to ride for miles and miles in a +oxcart, or else walk it, to git to 'tend church. Dere wouldn't be many +of de ones I knows 'round here would git dar. Us used to have four +steers hitched to our old cart, and it was slow-goin', but us got dar. + +"Atter us got our own churches us still had to have white preachers for +a long time and den us was 'lowed to have colored preachers. When +somebody wanted to jine our church us 'zamined 'em, and if us didn't +think dey was done ready to be tuk in de church, dey was told to wait +and pray 'til dey had done seed de light. Anybody can jine up wid de +church now, Missy, and it ain't right de way dey lets 'em come in widout +'zaminin' 'em. De good Lord sho' don't lak dat way of handlin' His +church business. One of dem cand-i-dates was a mean Nigger and our +preacher and deacons wouldn't let him in our church. Den he went over to +another church and told 'em dat he had talked wid de Lord 'bout how us +wouldn't let him jine up wid us, and he 'lowed dat de Lord said to him: +'Dat's all right. I done been tryin' to jine up in dat church for 15 +years myself, and can't git in, so you go on and jine another church.' +Dat other church let dat bad Nigger in and it warn't long 'fore dey had +to turn him out, 'cause he warn't fittin' to be in no church. + +"Our preacher used to give us parables. One of 'em was lak dis: 'I'se +seed good cotton growin' in de grass.' He 'splained it dat dere was some +good in de wust sinners. Another of his parables was: 'If you can't keep +up wid de man at de foot, how is you gwine to keep up wid de higher-up +folks?' Dat meant if you can't sarve God here below, how is you gwine to +git along wid him if you gits to Heben? Our preacher told us to sarve +both our marsters. De fust Marster was God, he said, and de other one +was our white marster. + +"I ain't never been inside no courtroom and don't never 'spect to be +dar, 'cause, missy, I don't mind nobody's business but my own, and dat's +all I can do. + +"No Mam, I don't never git much sick. I had a bad old haid cold last +winter, but I stopped dat wid coal oil and by breathin' in smoke from +scorched leather. Light'ood splinter tea is helpful when I has a chist +cold. Salts ain't de best thing for old folks to be doctored wid. I +takes common cookin' soda sweetened wid a little sugar. Dem is old-time +doses from way back in de old days, and I still use 'em all. + +"Durin' of de war time, soda and salt was both hard to git. Dey biled +down de dirt from under old smokehouses to git salt, and soda was made +out of burnt corncobs. You would be s'prised to see what good cookin' +could be done wid dat old corncob soda. + +"Us wukked for Mr. Green Hubbard de fust year us left de old plantation, +but he wouldn't pay us so us left him and rented some land to farm. Den +I went to wuk for Mr. Stephens and stayed wid him 25 years. He was one +of de owners of de Georgy Railroad and I used to drive for him when he +went to 'Gusty (Augusta) to dem board meetin's. He had one of dem +old-time gins what run by mule power, and us sho' did gin a heap of +cotton. Lots of times he had us to haul it all de way to 'Gusty on dem +wagons. Mr. Stephens' place was at Crawford, Georgy. + +"Me and my gal runned away to git married. If you please, Mam, come +inside and look at her pitcher. Ain't she a fine lookin' gal? Well, she +was jus' as good as she looks. I keeps her pitcher hangin' right over my +bed so as I can look at her all de time." The small room was tidy and +clean. In one corner a narrow, single bed, neatly made, stood beneath +the picture of Benny's wife, Mary. The picture showed a young woman +dressed in white in the style of the period when tight waists and +enormous puffed sleeves were in vogue. An old washstand supporting a +huge mirror, a small table, evidently used as a dining table, two +chairs, a small cupboard filled with dishes, and a small, wood-burning +stove completed the furnishings of the room. Back on the porch again, +Benny resumed the story of his marriage. + +"Her daddy wouldn't 'gree for us to git married 'cause he wanted her to +stay on and wuk for him. She warn't but seventeen. My boss-man let us +use his hoss and buggy and, Missy, dat fast hoss is what saved de day +for us. When I got to whar I was to meet her, I seed her runnin' down de +road wid her daddy atter her fast as he could go on foot. I snatched her +up in dat buggy and it seemed lak dat hoss knowed us was in a hurry +'cause he sho' did run. Squire Jimmie Green married us and when us got +back to my boss-man's house her daddy had done got dar and was a-raisin' +cane. Boss Stephens, he come out and told her daddy to git on 'way from +dar and let us 'lone, 'cause us was done married and dere warn't nothin' +could be done 'bout it. Us had a hard time gittin' started housekeepin', +'cause my daddy couldn't holp us none. Our bed was one of dem home-made +ones nailed to de side of de house. Us lived together 43 years 'fore de +Lord tuk her home to Heben 15 years ago. Dem 43 years was all of 'em +happy years. Since she's been gone I'se mighty lonesome, but it won't be +long now 'til I see her, for I'se ready to go whenever de Good Lord +calls me." + + + + +[HW: Atlanta +Dist. 5 +Driskell] + +THE EXPERIENCE OF GEORGE EASON IN SLAVERY TIME +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Mr. George Eason was born in Forsyth, Ga., on the plantation of Mr. Jack +Ormond. In addition to himself there were six other children, one of +whom was his twin brother. He and his brother were the oldest members of +this group of children. His mother, who was the master's cook, had +always belonged to the Ormond family while his father belonged to +another family, having been sold while he (George) was still a baby. + +It so happened that Mr. Ormond was a wealthy planter and in addition to +the plantation that he owned in the country, he also maintained a large +mansion in the town. + +The first few years of his life were spent in town where he helped his +mother in the kitchen by attending to the fire, getting water, etc. He +was also required to look after the master's horse. Unlike most other +slave owners who allowed their house servants to sleep in the mansion, +Mr. Ormond had several cabins built a short distance in the rear of his +house to accommodate those who were employed in the house. This house +group consisted of the cook, seamstress, maid, butler, and the wash +woman. Mr. Eason and those persons who held the above positions always +had good food because they got practically the same thing that was +served to the master and his family. They all had good clothing--the +women's dresses being made of calico, and the butler's suits of good +grade cloth, the particular kind of which Mr. Eason knows nothing about. +He himself wore a one-piece garment made of crocus. + +Mr. Eason was about 7 or 8 years of age when he was first sent to work +in the field. It was then that his troubles began. He says that he was +made to get up each morning at sun-up and that after going to the field +he had to toil there all day until the sun went down. He and his fellow +slaves had to work in all types of weather, good as well as bad. +Although the master or the overseer were not as cruel as some he had +heard of they tolerated no looseness of work and in case a person was +suspected of loafing the whip was applied freely. Although he was never +whipped, he has heard the whip being applied to his mother any number of +times. It hurt him, he says, because he had to stand back unable to +render any assistance whatever. (This happened before he was sent to the +plantation.) When his mother got these whippings she always ran off +afterwards and hid in the woods which were nearby. At night she would +slip to the cabin to get food and while there would caution him and the +other children not to tell the master that they had seen her. The +master's wife who was very mean was always the cause of her receiving +these lashings. + +Some nights after he and the other slaves had left the field they were +required to do extra work such as ginning cotton and shelling peas and +corn, etc. The young women were required to work that in some respects +was as hard as that the men did, while the older women usually did +lighter work. When the time came to pick the cotton all hands were +converted into pickers. Night was the only time that they had to do +their washing and to cultivate the small gardens they were allowed to +have. + +During the months when there was little field work to do they were kept +busy repairing fences, etc. on the farm. Every day was considered a +working day except Sunday, Thanksgiving and Christmas. They were not +allowed to celebrate on these days as were the slaves on other nearby +plantations. + +Clothing on the Ormond plantation was usually insufficient to satisfy +the needs of the slave. Each year one issue was given each slave. For +the men this issue consisted of 1 pair of brogan shoes, several homespun +shirts, a few pairs of knitted socks, and two or three pairs of pants. +The brogans were made of such hard leather until the wearers' feet were +usually blistered before the shoes were "broken in." The women, in +addition to a pair of shoes and some cotton stockings were given several +homespun dresses. On one occasion Mr. Eason says that he wore his shoes +out before time for an issue of clothing. It was so cold until the skin +on his feet cracked, causing the blood to flow. In spite of this his +master would give him no more shoes. All clothing was made on the +plantation except the shoes. + +Those women who were too old for field work did the sewing in addition +to other duties to be described later. + +Indigo was cultivated for dyeing purposes and in some instances a dye +was made by boiling walnut leaves and walnut hulls in water. In addition +to her duties as cook, Mr. Eason's mother had to also weave part of the +cloth. He told of how he had to sit up at night and help her and how she +would "crack" him on the head for being too slow at times. + +The amount of food given each slave was also inadequate as a general +rule. At the end of each week they all went to a certain spot on the +plantation where each was given 1 peck of meal, 1 gal. of syrup, and 3 +pounds of meat. They often suffered from that particular stomach ailment +commonly known as hunger. At such times raids were made on the +smokehouse. This was considered as stealing by the master and the +overseer but to them it was merely taking that which they had worked +for. At other times they increased their food by hunting and fishing. +Possums and coons were the usual game from such a hunting expedition. +All meals usually consisted of grits, bacon, syrup, corn bread and +vegetables. On Sundays and holidays the meals varied to the extent that +they were allowed to have biscuits which they called "cake bread." The +slaves made coffee by parching corn meal, okra seed or Irish potatoes. +When sufficiently parched any one of the above named would make a vile +type of coffee. Syrup was used for all sweetening purposes. The produce +from the gardens which the master allowed them could only be used for +home consumption and under no circumstances could any of it be sold. + +The cabins that the slaves occupied were located on one section of the +plantation known as the "quarters." These dwellings were crude +one-roomed structures usually made from logs. In order to keep the +weather out mud was used to close the openings between the logs. In +most instances the furnishing of a cabin was complete after a bed, a +bench (both of which were made by the slave) and a few cooking utensils +had been placed in it. As there were no stoves for slave use all cooking +was done at the fireplace, which, like the chimney, was made of mud and +stones. One or two openings served the purpose of windows, and shutters +were used instead of glass. The mattresses on which they slept were made +from hay, grass or straw. When a light was needed a tallow candle or a +pine knot was lighted. + +Absolute cleanliness was required at all times and the floors, if they +were made of wood, had to be swept and scrubbed often. In addition to +the private dwellings there was one large house where all children not +old enough to go to the field were kept. One or two of the older women +took charge of them, seeing that they had a sufficient amount of corn +bread, vegetables and milk each day. All were fed from a trough like +little pigs. + +These old women were also responsible for the care of the sick. When +asked if a doctor was employed, Mr. Eason replied that one had to be +mighty sick to have the services of a doctor. The usual treatment for +sick slaves was castor oil, which was given in large doses, salts and a +type of pill known as "hippocat." (ipecac) + +Although they were not permitted any formal type of learning religious +worship it was not denied them. Each Sunday Mr. Ormond required that all +his slaves attend church. All went to the white church where they sat in +back and listened to the sermon of a white preacher. Mr. Eason says that +the slaves believed in all kinds of and every conceivable type of signs. +Their superstitions usually had to do with methods of conjure. + +A preacher was never used to perform a wedding ceremony on the Ormond +plantation. After the man told the master about the woman of his choice +and she had been called and had agreed to the plan, all that was +necessary was for the couple to join hands and jump over a broom which +had been placed on the ground. + +Mr. Ormond permitted few if any celebrations or frolics to take place on +his farm. When he did grant this privilege his slaves were permitted to +invite their friends who of course had to get a "pass" from their +respective masters. They, too, were required to secure a pass from Mr. +Ormond if they wanted to visit off the premises. If caught by the +"Paddle Rollers" (Patrollers) without this pass they were soundly +whipped and then taken to their master. + +At the beginning of the Civil War all the slaves talked among themselves +concerning the possible outcome of the war. However, they never let the +master or the overseer hear them because it meant a whipping. + +When Sherman and his army marched through they burned all the gin houses +on the Ormond plantation and took all the available live stock. Mr. +Ormond took a few prized possessions and a few slaves (one of whom was +Mr. Eason) and fled to Augusta, Ga. + +After freedom was declared he was still held in bondage and hired out by +the day. Once he ran away but was found and brought back. In 1867 the +remaining members of the Ormond family moved to Atlanta, bringing him +along with them. After most of them had died he was finally permitted to +go or stay as he pleased. + +Immediately after freedom had been declared he had the good fortune to +find his father. However, he never got a chance to spend any time with +him as the Ormonds refused to release him. + +Says Mr. Eason: "Slavery had a good point in that we slaves always felt +that somebody was going to take care of us." He says that he has heard +some wish for the good old days but as for himself he prefers things to +remain as they are at present. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +CALLIE ELDER, Age 78 +640 W. Hancock Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +[JUN 6 1938] + + +Callie lives with her daughter, Cornelia, in a 6-room house near the +crest of a hill. Their abode is a short distance from the street and is +reached by steep stone steps. In response to the call for Callie, a tall +mulatto woman appeared. Her crudely fashioned blue dress was of a coarse +cotton fabric and her dingy head rag had long lost its original color. +Straight black hair, streaked with gray, and high cheek bones gave the +impression that in her ancestry of mixed races, Indian characteristics +predominate. Her constant use of snuff causes frequent expectoration and +her favorite pastime seems to be the endeavor to attain an incredible +degree of accuracy in landing each mouthful of the amber fluid at the +greatest possible distance. As she was about to begin conversation, a +little yellow boy about five years old ran into the room and Callie +said: "'Scuse me please, I can't talk 'til I gits my grandboy off so he +won't be late to school at Little Knox. Set down in dat dar cheer and +I'll be right back." + +Soon Callie returned and it was evident that her curiosity was aroused. +When the interviewer explained the purpose of the visit, she exclaimed: +"Lordy! Miss, what is de government gwine do next? For de God's truth, I +never knowed I would have to tell nobody what happened back in dem days, +so its jus' done slipped out of my mind. + +"Anyhow, I warn't even born in Clarke County. I was born in Floyd +County, up nigh Rome, Georgia, on Marse Billy Neal's plantation. Ann and +Washin'ton Neal was my Mammy and Pappy. No Ma'am, no preacher never +married 'em. Marse Billy Neal, he owned bofe of 'em and atter my Pappy +axed him could he marry Mammy, Marse Billy made 'em go up to de hall of +de big house and jump backwards over a broom. + +"Dere was six of us chillun: me and Frances, Beulah, Thomas, Felix, and +Scott. Dere was mighty little wuk done by chillun in slav'ry days. I +jus' played 'round and kicked up my heels wid de rest of de chillun. +When us played our hidin' game, us sung somepin' lak dis: + + 'Mollie, Mollie Bright + Three score and ten, + Can I git dere by candlelight? + Yes, if your laigs is long enough!' + +"Sometimes us played what us called de 'Crow' game. Us spread our +fingers out, side by side and counted 'em out wid a rhyme. De one de +last word of de rhyme fell on had to be de crow. I didn't love to be +counted out and made de crow, but it was a heap of fun to count de +others out. Since I been knee high to a grasshopper, I ain't never done +nothin' but wuk 'round white folks' houses. + +"Our log cabins what us lived in was daubed inside and out wid mud to +keep out bad weather. Our beds was held together by cords what was +twisted evvy which way. You had to be mighty careful tightenin' dem +cords or de beds was liable to fall down. Us slept on wheat straw +mattresses and had plenty of good warm quilts for kiver. + +"Grown folks was fed cornbread and meat wid plenty of vegetables in de +week days and on Sunday mornin's dey give 'em wheat bread, what was +somethin' slaves didn't see no more 'til de next Sunday mornin'. 'Bout +four o'clock on summer atternoons, dey sot a big old wooden bowl full of +cornbread crumbs out in de yard and poured in buttermilk or potliquor +'til de crumbs was kivered. Den dey let de chillun gather 'round it and +eat 'til de bowl was empty. In winter chillun was fed inside de house. + +"'Possums, Oh, mussy me! My grandpa hunted 'possums at night and fetched +in two and three at a time. Don't say nothin' 'bout dem rabbits for dere +warn't no end to 'em. Rabbits stewed, rabbits fried, and rabbits dried, +smoked, and cured lak hog meat! I et so many rabbits when I was young I +can't stand to look at 'em now but I could eat 'possums and gnaw de +bones all day long. Marse Billy let grandpa go fishin' and he was all +time bringin' back a passel of minnows and other fishes. Us rubbed 'em +down wid lard and salt and pepper, den rolled 'em in cornmeal and baked +'em. I never seed no fried meat 'til I was a big strappin' gal. Dere was +one big gyarden whar dey raised 'nough vegetables for all de white folks +and slaves too. All de bilin' was done in pots swung on cranes over +coals in de fireplace. + +"Our clothes was made new for us in de fall out of cloth wove in looms +right dar on de plantation. Top clothes was dyed wid hick'ry bark. De +full skirts was gathered to tight fittin' waisties. Underskirts was made +de same way. De dresses had done wore thin 'nough for hot weather by de +time winter was gone so us wore dem same clothes straight on through de +summer, only us left off de underskirts den. Slave chillun didn't never +wear no shoes. Our foots cracked open 'til dey looked lak goose foots. +Us wore de same on Sunday as evvy day, 'cept dat our clothes was clean, +and stiff wid meal starch when us got into 'em on Sunday mornin's. + +"Marse Billie Neal was our owner and Miss Peggy was his old 'oman. Dey +was jus' as good to us as dey could be. Deir two chillun was Marse Tom +and Marse Mid. De car'iage driver never had much to do but drive Marse +Billy and Miss Peggy 'round and, course he had to see dat de hosses and +car'iage was kept clean and shiny. I don't 'member if he tuk de chillun +'round. Chillun didn't stand de show dey does now. + +"Oh, no Ma'am, I sho' can't tell nothin' t'all 'bout how big dat old +plantation was, but it was one whoppin' big place. Dere was too many +slaves on dat plantation for me to count. De overseer got 'em up by 4:00 +o'clock and de mens had to be in de fields by sunrise. De 'omans went +out 'bout 8:00 o'clock. Dey stopped wuk at sundown and by de time dey et +and done de chores for de day it was 10:00 o'clock 'fore dey hit de bed. +De cabins was built in a circle and de overseer went de rounds evvy +night to see if de slaves was in bed. + +"Yes Ma'am, dey whupped de Niggers. My Pappy and grandpa was de wust +ones 'bout gittin' licked. Evvy time Pappy runned away Marse Billy +sicked dem hounds on his heels and dey was sho' to ketch him and fetch +him back. Dey had to keep knives from Pappy or when dem dogs cotch him +he would jus' cut 'em up so dey would die. When dey got him back to de +house, dey would buckle him down over a barrel and larrup him wid a +plaited whup. 'Omans warn't whupped much. My grandpa York was so bad +'bout runnin' 'way Marse Billy made him wear long old horns. One Sunday +Marse Billy went by our church to see if all his Niggers was dar what +was sposen to be dar. And dere grandpa was a-sottin' wid dem horns on +his head. Marse Billy told him he could take de horns off his head +whilst he was in de meetin' house. At dat grandpa dropped dem horns, and +lit a rag to de woods and it tuk de dogs days to find him. + +"If one slave kilt another, Marse Billy made de overseer tie dat dead +Nigger to de one what kilt him, and de killer had to drag de corpse +'round 'til he died too. De murderers never lived long a-draggin' dem +daid ones 'round. Dat jus' pyorely skeered 'em to death. Dere was a +guard house on de farm, whar de wust Niggers was kept, and while dey was +in dat guard house, dey warn't fed but once a day. It warn't nothin' +unusual for Marse Billy to sell slaves, but he never sold his best +Niggers. De ones he sold was allus dem he couldn't git no wuk out of. + +"Not a Nigger could read or write on Marse Billy's plantation. Dey was +all too dumb to larn. Dere was a shackly sort of church house on our +plantation and on Sundays atter de Niggers had cleaned deyselfs up, if +dey told Marse Billy dey wanted to go to church, he sent 'em on. All I +knows 'bout baptizin's is dey jus' tuk 'em to de river and plunged 'em +in. Dey sung somepin' 'bout: 'Gwine to de River for to be Baptized.' Us +had prayer meetin's on Wednesday nights sometimes. + +"Oh, Mussy! Don't ax me 'bout fun'rals. I got de misery in my laigs and +I feels too bad dis mornin' to let myself even think 'bout fun'rals. +Back den when slave folks died dey jus' put 'em in home-made pine +coffins what dey throwed in a wagon and tuk 'em to de graveyard. At dem +buryin's, dey used to sing: + + 'Am I born to die + To let dis body down.' + +"None of our Niggers ever runned away to de North. Dey was too busy +runnin' off to de woods. Jus' to tell de truth dem Niggers on our place +was so dumb dey didn't even take in 'bout no North. Dey didn't even know +what de war was 'bout 'til it was all over. I don't know whar to start +'bout dem patterollers. Dey was de devil turned a-loose. Dere was a song +'bout 'Run Nigger run, de patteroller git you!' and dey sho' would too, +I want to tell you. + +"What de slaves done on Saddy night? Dey done anything dey was big +'nough to do. Dere warn't no frolickin' 'cept on Sadday night. Niggers +on our place wukked all day Sadday 'cept once a month. Some of de slaves +would slip off and stay half a day and de overseer wouldn't miss 'em +'cause dere was so many in de field. It was jus' too bad for any Nigger +what got cotched at dat trick. Sadday night, slaves was 'lowed to git +together and frolic and cut de buck. + +"Christmas Day Marse Billy called us to de big house and give us a +little fresh meat and sweet bread, dat was cake. Christmas warn't much +diff'unt f'um other times. Jus' more t'eat. Us jus' had dat one day off, +and New Year's Day was used as a holiday too. + +"Oh, dem cornshuckin's! All day 'fore a cornshuckin' dey hauled corn and +put it in great piles as high as dis here house. Us sung all de time us +was shuckin' corn. Dere was a lot of dem old shuckin' songs. De one us +sung most was: 'Whooper John and Calline all night.' Marse Billy, he +give 'em coffee and whiskey all night and dat made 'em git rough and +rowdy. Den de shucks did fly. Us had one more grand feast when de last +ear of corn had done been shucked. Dere warn't nothin' lackin'. + +"Cotton pickin's warn't planned for fun and frolic lak cornshuckin's. If +Marse Billy got behind in his crops, he jus' sent us back to de fields +at night when de moon was bright and sometimes us picked cotton all +night long. Marster give de 'oman what picked de most cotton a day off, +and de man what picked de most had de same privilege. + +"Old Aunt Martha what nussed de chillun while deir Mammies wukked in de +field was de quiltin' manager. It warn't nothin' for 'omans to quilt +three quilts in one night. Dem quilts had to be finished 'fore dey +stopped t'eat a bit of de quiltin' feast. Marse Billy 'vided dem quilts +out 'mongst de Niggers what needed 'em most. + +"Dem blue and white beads what de grown 'omans wore was jus' to look +pretty. Dey never meant nothin' else. Mammy would skeer us down 'bout +Rawhead and Bloody Bones. Us was all time a-lookin' for him, but he +never got dar. What skeered us most was painters (panthers) a-howlin' +close to our cabins at night. You could hear 'em most any night. When +Mammy wanted to make us behave all she had to say was: 'I hears dem +painters comin'!' Dat made us jus' shake all over and git mighty still +and quiet. De mens tried to run dem painters down, but dey never did +ketch one. + +"One of de cabins was allus ha'nted atter some of de slaves got kilt in +it whilst dey was fightin'. Nobody never could live in dat cabin no more +atter dat widout ha'nts gittin' atter 'em. De wust of 'em was a 'oman +ha'nt what you could hear sweepin' up leaves in de yard and all dat time +you might be lookin' hard and not see a leaf move. In dat cabin you +could all time hear ha'nts movin' cheers and knockin' on de wall. Some +of dem ha'nts would p'int a gun in your face if you met 'em in de dark. +Dem ha'nts was too much for me. + +"Our white folks was good as dey knowed how to be when us got sick. I +don't 'member dat dey ever had a doctor for de slaves, but dey give us +all kinds of home-brewed teas. Pinetops, mullein and fat light'ood +splinters was biled together and de tea was our cure for diff'unt +ailments. Scurvy grass tea mixed wid honey was good for stomach +troubles, but you sho' couldn't take much of it at a time. It was de +movin'est medicine! Round our necks us wore asafetida sacks tied on +strings soaked in turpentine. Dat was to keep diseases off of us. + +"What does I 'member 'bout de war? Well, it was fit to fetch our +freedom. Marse Billy had a fine stallion. When de sojers was comin', he +sont Pappy to de woods wid dat stallion and some gold and told him not +to let dem yankees find 'em. Dat stallion kept squealin' 'til de yankees +found him, and dey tuk him and de gold too. Grandma was a churnin' away +out on de back porch and she had a ten dollar gold piece what she didn't +want dem sojers to steal, so she drapped it in de churn. Dem yankees +poured dat buttermilk out right dar on de porch floor and got grandma's +money. Marse Billy hid hisself in a den wid some more money and other +things and dey didn't find him. Dey tuk what dey wanted of what dey +found and give de rest to de slaves. Atter de sojers left, de Niggers +give it all back to Marster 'cause he had allus been so good to 'em. + +"Us stayed on wid Marse Billy for sev'ral years atter de war. He paid us +$10 a month and he 'lowanced out de rations to us evvy week; most allus +on Monday 'cause Sundays us had 'nough company to eat it all at one +time. He give us three pounds of fat meat, a peck of meal, a peck of +flour, 25¢ worth of sugar, and a pound of coffee. Dat had to last a +whole week. + +"I didn't take in nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis and dat +dar Booker T. Washin'ton man, but I heared folks say dey was all right. + +"What is you talkin' 'bout Miss? I didn't need to have no big weddin' +when I married Lige Elder. It was a big 'nough thing to git a man lak +what I got. What did I want to have a big weddin' for when all I was +atter was my man? Us had done been married 25 years 'fore us had no +chillun. Dis here Cornelia what I lives wid was our first chile. She +ain't got no chillun. Isaac, my boy, has got four chillun. My old man +died 'bout two years ago. + +"I j'ined de church 'cause I was happy and wanted de world to know I had +done got 'ligion. I think evvybody ought to git 'ligion. God says if us +do right he will give us all a home in His Heaven. + +"I'd rather have de days as dey is now in some ways. But one thing I +does lak to do is eat and us had a plenty of good eatin' den and never +had to worry none 'bout whar it was a-comin' f'um. Miss, ain't you +through axin' me questions yet? I'm tired of talkin'. I done let de fire +go out under my washpot twice. Dem white folks ain't gwine to lak it if +dey has to wait for deir clothes, and dis misery in my laigs, it sho' +does hurt me bad dis mornin'." + + + + +MARTHA EVERETTE, EX-SLAVE +Hawkinsville, Georgia + +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson--1936) +[JUL 20 1937] + + +Born in Pulaski County about 1848, the daughter of Isaac and Amanda +Lathrop, Martha Everette has lived all her life near where she was born. + +Prior to freedom, her first job was "toting in wood", from which she was +soon "promoted" to waiting on the table, house cleaning, etc. She make +no claims to have ever "graduated" as a cook, as so many old +before-the-war Negresses do. + +"Aunt" Martha's owner was a kind man: he never whipped the slaves, but +the overseer "burnt 'em up sometimes." And her mother was a "whipper, +too"--a woman that "fanned" her children religiously, so to speak, not +overlooking Martha. All the Watson slaves attended the (White) Baptist +church at Blue Springs. + +Rations were distributed on Sunday morning of each week, and the slaves +had plenty to eat. The slaves were also allowed to fish, thus often +adding variety to their regular fare. + +Negro women were taught to sew by the overseers' wives, and most of the +slaves' clothes were made from cloth woven on the plantation. The +Yankees visited the Lathrop plantation in '65, asked for food, received +it, and marched on without molesting anything or any body. Truly, these +were well-behaved Yankees! + +"Aunt" Martha says that she remembers quite well when the Yankees +captured Jefferson Davis. She and other slave children were in the "big +house" yard when they heard drums beating, and soon saw the Yankees pass +with Mr. Davis. + +"Aunt" Martha, now old and decrepit, lives with one of her sons, who +takes care of her. This son is a gardener and a carpenter and, being +thrifty, fares much better than many Negroes of his generation. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex-Slave #30] +By E. Driskell +Typed by A.M. Whitley +1-29-37 + +FIRST COPY OF ARTICLE ENTITLED: +"AN INTERVIEW WITH LEWIS FAVOR," EX-SLAVE +[MAY 8 1937] + +[TR: informant also referred to as Favors in this document.] + + +Among Atlanta's few remaining ex-slaves is one Lewis Favors. When he +fully understood this worker's reasons for approaching him he consented +to tell what he had seen and experienced as a slave. Chewing slowly on a +large wad of tobacco he began his account in the following manner: "I +was born in Merriweather County in 1855 near the present location of +Greenville, Georgia. Besides my mother there were eight of us children +and I was elder than all of them with one exception. Our owner was Mrs. +Favors, but she was known to everybody as the "Widow Favors." My father +was owned by a Mr. Darden who had a plantation in this same county. When +the "Widow's" husband died he left her about one-hundred acres of land +and a large sum of money and so she was considered as being rich. She +didn't have many slaves of her own and so her son (also a plantation +owner) used to send some of his slaves over occasionally to help +cultivate her crops, which consisted of cotton, corn, and all kinds of +vegetables." + +In regard to her treatment of the slaves that she held Mr. Favors says: +"She wasn't so tight and then she was pretty tight too." + +Those slaves who were field hands were in the field and at work by the +time it was light enough to see. They plowed, hoed, and then later in +the season gathered the crops. After the harvesting was over the fences +were repaired and rails were split. In rainy weather nobody had to work +out of doors, instead they shelled the peas and corn and sometimes +ginned the cotton. At night the women were required to spin and to +weave. In the winter season no work was required at night unless they +had not spun as much thread as was required. At such times they had to +work at night until the amount set had been reached. + +Mr. Favor's mother was the cook for the "Widow Favors" and her two +neices who lived with her. The Favors had paid the owner of a hotel Four +hundred dollars to have the hotel cook teach her (Mr. Favors mother) to +prepare all kinds of fancy dishes. His father was a field hand on the +Darden plantation. In addition to this he repaired all the shoes when +this was necessary. + +As a child Mr. Favors was not very strong physically and because of this +the "Widow" made him her pet. He never had to do any work other than +that of waiting on the mistress while she ate her meals. Even in this he +had to get up at four o'clock in the morning and help his mother in the +kitchen. Sometimes he would sweep the yards if he felt like doing so. +When he grew older he was given the task of picking the seed out of the +cotton at night. + +On Sundays all the servants were free to do as they pleased, that is, +with the exception of Mr. Favors, his mother, and the two women who +serve as maids to the "Widow's" two neices. At other times if a task was +done before the day was over with they were given the remaining time to +do as they pleased. However, everybody had a one week holiday at +Christmas. + +Mr. Favors made the following statement in regard to the clothing: +"Everybody wore the homespun cotton clothes that were made on the +plantation by the slave women. The women wore striped ausenberg dresses +while the men wore ausenberg pants and shirts that had been made into +one garment. My clothes were always better than the other little +fellows, who ran around in their shirttails because I was always in the +house of the "Widow." They used red clay to do the dyeing with. In the +winter time cracked feet were common. The grown people wore heavy shoes +called brogans while I wore the cast-off shoes of the white ladies. We +all wrapped our feet in bagging sacks to help them to keep warm. We +were given one complete outfit of clothes each year and these had to +last until the time for the next issue." + +Sheets for the beds were also made out of homespun material while the +heavier cover such as the quilts, etc., were made from the dresses and +the other clothing that was no longer fit for wear. + +As a general rule all of the slaves on this plantation had enough food +to keep them well and healthy. At the end of each week the field hands +were given enough food to last them seven days. For most of them the +week's supply consisted of three and one-half pounds of pork or fat +meat, one peck of meal, flour, and black molasses. The only meals that +they had to prepare from the above mentioned articles were breakfast and +supper. Dinner was cooked in the plantation kitchen by one of the women +who was too old for work in the fields. For this particular meal the +slaves had some different type of vegetable each day along with the fat +meat, corn bread, and the pot liquor which was served every day. They +were allowed to come in from the fields to the house to be served. +Breakfast usually consisted of fat meat, molasses, and corn bread while +supper consisted of pot-liquor, bread, and milk. The only variation from +this diet was on Sunday when all were allowed to have bisquits instead +of corn bread. Mr. Favors was asked what happened if anyone's food was +all eaten before it was time for the weekly issue and he answered: "It +was just too bad for them 'cause they would have to do the best they +could until the time came to get more." When such a thing happened to +anyone the others usually helped as far as their limited supplies would +permit. + +Mr. Favors says that he, his mother, and the two maids ate the same kind +of food that the "Widow," and her nieces were served. After he had seen +to the wants of all at the table he had to take a seat at the table +beside his owner where he ate with her and the others seated there. + +There were two one-roomed cabins located directly behind the four-roomed +house of the "Widow," the entire lot of them were built out of logs. +These two cabins were for the use of those servants who worked in the +house of their owner. At one end of each cabin there was a wide +fireplace which was made of sticks, stones, and dried mud. Instead of +windows there were only one or two small holes cut in the back wall of +the cabin. The beds were made out of heavy planks and were called +"Georgia Looms," by the slaves. Wooden slats were used in the place of +bed springs while the mattresses were merely large bags that had been +stuffed to capacity with hay, wheat straw, or leaves. The only other +furnishings in each of these cabins were several benches and a few +cooking utensils. Mr. Favors says: "We didn't have plank floors like +these on some of the other plantations; the plain bare ground served as +our floor." As he made this statement he reminded this worker that he +meant his mother and some of the other house servants lived in these +cabins. He himself always lived in the house with the "Widow Favors," +who had provided a comfortable bed along with a small chair for his use. +These slaves who worked in the fields lived in several cabins that were +somewhat nearer to their fields than the other two cabins mentioned +above. + +The remaining buildings on the Favors' plantation were the smokehouse +and the cook house where in addition to the cooking the younger children +were cared for by another old person. The woman who cared for these +children had to also help with the cooking. + +Whenever any of the slaves were sick the doctor was called if +conditions warranted it, otherwise a dose of castor oil was prescribed. +Mr. Favors stated that after freedom was declared the white people for +whom they worked gave them hog-feet oil and sometimes beef-oil both of +which had the same effect as castor oil. If any were too ill to work in +the field one of the others was required to remain at the cabin or at +some other convenient place so as to be able to attend to the wants of +these so indisposed. + +When Mr. Favors was asked if the servants on this plantation ever had +the chance to learn how to read or to write he answered: "They was all +afraid to even try because they would cut these off," and he held up his +right hand and pointed to his thumb and forefinger. At any rate the +"Widow," nieces taught him to read a few months before the slaves were +set free. + +On Sunday all were required to attend the white church in town. They sat +in the back of the church as the white minister preached and directed +the following text at them: "Don't steal your master's chickens or his +eggs and your backs won't be whipped." In the afternoon of this same day +when the colored minister was allowed to preach the slaves heard this +text: "Obey your masters and your mistresses and your backs won't be +whipped." All of the marriages ware performed by the colored preacher +who read a text from the Bible and then pronounced the couple being +married as man and wife. + +Although nobody was ever sold on the Favors plantation Mr. Favors has +witnessed the selling of others on the auction block. He says that the +block resembled a flight of steps. The young children and those women +who had babies too young to be separated from them were placed on the +bottom step, those in their early teens on the next, the young men and +women on the next, and the middle-aged and old ones on the last one. +Prices decreased as the auctioneer went from the bottom step to the top +one, that is, the younger a slave was the more money he brought if he +was sold. + +Sometimes there were slaves who were punished by the overseer because +they had broken some rule. Mr. Favors says that at such times a cowhide +whip was used and the number of lashes that the overseer gave depended +on the slave owner's instructions. He has seen others whipped and at +such times he began praying. The only punishment that he ever received +was as a little boy and then a switch was used instead of the whip. If +the "Patter-Roller" caught a slave out in the streets without a pass +from his master they proceeded to give the luckless fellow five lashes +with a whip called the cat-o-nine-tails. They gave six lashes if the +slave was caught out at night regardless of whether he had a pass or +not. + +As none of the slaves held by the "Widow" or her son ever attempted to +run away there was no punishment for this. However, he has heard that on +other plantations blood hounds were used to trail those who ran away and +if they were caught a severe beating was administered. + +Sometime after the civil war had begun the "Widow Favors" packed as many +of her belongings as possible and fled to LaGrange, Georgia. He and his +mother along with several other slaves (one of whom was an old man) were +taken along. He never heard any of the white people say anything about +the war or its possible results. At one time a battle was being fought a +few miles distant and they all saw the cannon balls fall on the +plantation. This was when the journey to LaGrange was decided upon. +Before leaving the "Widow" had the slaves to bury all the meat, flour, +and other food on the plantation so that the Yankee soldiers would not +get it. Mr. Favors was given about two thousand dollars in gold currency +to keep and protect for his owner. At various intervals he had to take +this money to the "Widow". so that she might count it. Another one of +the slaves was given the son's gold watch to keep on his person until +the Yanks left the vicinity. + +Before freedom was declared Mr. Favors says that he prayed all of the +time because he never wanted to be whipped with the cowhide, like others +he had seen. Further he says that it was a happy day for him when he was +told that he could do as he pleased because he realized then that he +could do some of the things that he had always wanted to do. + +When freedom was declared for the slaves the Favors family freed slaves +valued at one-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The live stock that +they sold represented a like sum. Mr. Favors and his mother remained +with the "Widow," who gave him his board in return for his services and +paid his mother twenty-five dollars per year for hers as cook. + +"Even after the war things were pretty tough for us" stated Mr. Favors. +"The plantation owners refused to pay more than thirty or forty cents to +a person for a days work in the fields. Some of them would not allow an +ex-slave to walk in the streets in front of their homes but made them +take to the out-of-the-way paths through the woods to reach their +various destinations. At other times white men cut the clothes from the +backs of the ex-slaves when they were well dressed. If they didn't beg +hard enough when thus accosted they might even be cut to death!" After +the first three years following the war conditions were somewhat better, +he continued. + +Mr. Favors says that his old age is due to the fact that he has always +taken good care of himself and because he has always refrained from +those habits that are known to tear a person's health down. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slave #28] + +THE STORY OF AUNT MARY FERGUSON, EX-SLAVE +1928 Oak Street +Columbus, Georgia +December 18, 1936 + + +"Aunt" Mary Ferguson, née Mary Little, née Mary Shorter, was born +somewhere in Maryland; the exact locality being designated by her simply +as "the eastern shore" of that state. She was born the chattel of a +planter named Shorter, so her first name, of course, was Mary Shorter. + +For many years she has resided with a daughter and a granddaughter, at +1928 Oak Avenue, Columbus, Georgia. + +"Aunt" Mary was about thirteen years old when, in 1860, she was sold and +brought South. The story of which, as told in her own words is as +follows: + +"In 1860 I wuz a happy chile. I had a good ma an a good paw; one older +bruther an one older suster, an a little bruther an a baby suster, too. +All my fambly wucked in de fields, 'ceptin me an de two little uns, +which I stayed at home to mind. (mind--care for). + +"It wuz durin' cotton chopping time dat year (1860), a day I'll never +fergit, when de speckulataws bought me. We come home from the fiel' +'bout haf atter 'leven dat day an cooked a good dinner, I hopin her. O, +I never has forgot dat last dinner wid my fokes! But, some-ow, I had +felt, all de mawnin, lak sumpin was gwineter hapin'. I could jes feel it +in my bones! An' sho nough, bout de middle of the even', up rid my young +Marster on his hoss, an' up driv two strange white mens in a buggy. Dey +hitch dere hosses an' cum in de house, which skeered me. Den one o' de +strangers said, 'git yo clothers, Mary; we has bought you frum Mr. +Shorter." I c'menced cryin' an' beggin' Mr. Shorter to not let 'em take +me away. But he say, 'yes, Mary, I has sole yer, an' yer must go wid +em.' + +"Den dese strange mens, whose names I ain't never knowed, tuk me an' put +me in de buggy an' driv off wid me, me hollerin' at de top o' my voice +an' callin' my Ma! Den dem speckulataws begin to sing loud--jes to drown +out my hollerin.' + +"Us passed de very fiel whar paw an' all my fokes wuz wuckin, an' I calt +out as loud as I could an', as long as I could see 'em, 'good-bye, Ma!' +'good-bye, Ma!' But she never heared me. Naw, nah, daz white mens wuz +singin' so loud Ma could'n hear me! An' she could'n see me, caze dey had +me pushed down out o' sight on de floe o' de buggy. + +"I ain't never seed nor heared tell o' my Ma an' Paw, an' bruthers, an' +susters from dat day to dis. + +"My new owners tuck me to Baltymore, whar dey had herded tergether two +two-hoss wagon loads o' Niggers. All o' us Niggers wuz den shipped on a +boat to Savannah, an' frum dar us wuz put on de cyars an' sont to Macon. + +"In Macon, us wuz sold out, and Doctor (W.R.) Little, of Talbotton, +bought me at oxion (auction) an' tuck me home wid 'im. Den I wuz known +as Mary Little, instid of Mary Shorter." + +In the continuation of her narrative, "Aunt" Mary said that the Littles +trained her to be a nurse. Before the war ended, she was inherited by +Mr. Gus (the late Hon. W.A.) Little. + +She remembers that all the "quality", young white men who went to the +war from Talbotton took Negro men-servants (slaves) along with them. +These were usually called body-servants, and it was a body-servant's +duty to cook, wash, and do general valet service for his master. In a +pinch, he was also supposed to raid a hen roost, or otherwise rustle +food for his "white fokes". + +According to "Aunt" Mary, the Little Negroes were very religious and +given to much loud praying and singing, which often so disturbed Dr. +Little that he gave orders for them to stop it, and also ordered that +all lights in the slave quarters be out at 9 o'clock each night. + +"So us tuck to slippin' off to a big gully in de pastur to sing and pray +whar de white fokes couldn' hear us. + +"My fust baby wuz bawned in 1862, during de secon' year o' de war. I has +had several husbants, my las' un, he died 'bout seventeen years ago. + +"I ain't never seed but one hant in my life, an' I didn' know it wuz a +hant 'til Aunt Peggy (an old slave woman) tole me so. Dis hant was in de +shape o' a duck, an' it followed me one day frum de big house kitchen +ter de hawg pen whar I wuz gwine ter slop de hawgs. When I got back, I +said, 'Aunt Peggy, dar's a strange duck done tuck up wid us!' And she +say, 'hush, chile, dat's a hant!' I been seein' 'im fur severrel years! +An' dat sholy skeert me!" + +When asked if she had ever been whipped when a slave, "Aunt" Mary +replied, "Yes, and thank God fur it, fur ole Miss taught me to be hones' +an' not to steal." She admitted that being whipped for stealing made her +an honest woman. + +"Aunt" Mary's oldest child is now a man of 74. Her hair is as white as +cotton and her eye sight is dim, but she is still mentally alert. She +says that colored people are naturally religious and that they learned +all their "devilment" from the Whites. She deplores the wickedness into +which the world has drifted, but thanks God that slavery ended when it +did. + +She has never had any particular love for the Yankees, and thinks that +they treated the Southern white folks "most scandalously" after the +war, yet feels that she owes them a debt of gratitude for freeing her +people. She admits that her awful hatred of slavery was born of her sad +experience as a girl when she was so unceremoniously separated from her +loved ones, as previously told. She is also of the firm opinion the +those "speculataws" who brought her from Maryland to Georgia in 1860 are +"brilin in hell fur dey sin" of seperating her from her people. + + Must Jesus bear the cross alone + and all the world go free? + No, there is a cross for every one; + there's a cross for me; + This consecrated cross I shall bear til + death shall set me free, + And then go home, my crown to wear; + there is a crown for me. + +Sung for interviewer by Mary Ferguson, ex-slave, December 18, 1936. + + + + +FOLKLORE INTERVIEW + +CARRIE NANCY FRYER +415 Mill Street +Augusta, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Maude Barragan +Federal Writers' Project +Residency #13 +Augusta, Georgia + + +An angular, red-skinned old Negro women was treading heavily down the +dusty sidewalk, leaning on a gnarled stick and talking to a little black +girl. A "sundown" hat shaded a bony face of typical Indian cast and her +red skin was stretched so tight over high cheek bones that few wrinkles +showed. + +"Auntie," she was asked, "have you time to tell me something about +slavery times?" "No'm, I sorry," she answered, "but I gwine to see a +sick lady now, and I gots to 'tend to somepin'." "May I come back to see +you at your house?" "Yas'm, any time you wants. I live in de lil' house +on de canal, it has a ellum tree in front. I riz it from sapling. I name +dat lil' tree 'Nancy' so when I gone, folks kin come by and bow and say +'Howdy, Nancy.'" + +She seated herself on a stone step and spread her many skirts of gray +chambray, hand-sewed with big white stitches. An old woman came by, her +shining black face puckered with anxiety, dressed in a starched white +uniform and a battered black hat, well brushed. + +"Morning, Nancy," she said. "You look mighty peak-ked dis morning." + +"Hunh!" grunted Nancy, "I oughter. I bin to see de mayor. I say 'Mr. +Mayor, here I is. I ain' got nuttin' to eat--it ain' right for a woman +my age to beg food. Now what yer gwine do 'bout it?' De mayor say: +'Auntie, you go right down to de welfare office at de Court House and +tell de lady I sont you to git somepin' to eat.' I done dat--dey promise +to send a lady, but I ain' see no lady yit." A heavy sigh rolled out. "I +didn' lef' skin of meat in my house or a piece of cornpone. But I didn' +take nuttin' to heart 'cause de Lord is my helper." + +The old woman sighed too. "Yeah, Nancy, das de way dey does. I ain' +gwine keep nasty house for nobody. But white people's funny. Dey think +if you got clean house and bleachin' sheets you mus' have somepin' to +eat inside." She clenched her fist, and her voice rose. "I tells you +right now--I gwine keep my house neat jus' like I bin taught, ef I never +gits no somepin' t'eat and ain' got cornpone in de oven." + +"A poor creeter come to my house today to beg for somepin' to eat," said +Nancy, "I ain' got nuttin' and I tell her so. She say she gwine to de +court-house too." + +"T'won't do no good," answered the other woman. "Come over here, Nancy. +I wants to talk to you." + +With a dignified excuse, Nancy creaked to her long length and moved +deliberately to the edge of the sidewalk. Whisperings followed, the +voices of the two old women rising in their excitement. + +"I ain' gwine into somepin' I don't know nuttin' about." + +"Nobody gwine 'swade me either." + +"My husband didn' put no composin' on me. If I don't git but one meal a +day, I ain' gwine dirty. I didn' have mouthful t'eat in my house." + +The interested eavesdropper decided that the welfare office had talked +social security to the women instead of direct relief, and they were +worried and suspicious about the matter. The old black woman was getting +angrier and angrier. + +"If any of 'em lookin' for me to have nasty old tore-up house, I ain' +gwine did it. You dunno when sickness come. When my boy got his leg +broke up, soon as dey could, dey put him off on me. Miz' Powell say: +'Steve, if you don't be good to your ma, de Lord gwine take your +blessing from you.' Dey paid Steve $137.00, Nancy, and he ain't gimmie a +nickle! He spent it on a woman in Edgefield. But my gal is diffunt. If +she ain' got but one mouthful she gwine give me half." + +Nancy nodded: "Dat like my gal too." + +The old woman took up her complaint again: "Um got daughter. When you +walk in her house, you think dey is a white person's house. When I was +workin and able, I put down as many bleachin' sheets as any white +'oman." + +Nancy's ponderous sigh rolled out. She was very "peaked" indeed on this +hot September morning. "If sister got a hoecake of bread, she gwine give +it to me. Ain' nobody else to help now--de Lord done come along and got +ev'y one of my mother's chillun but me." + +Seeing that present necessities were too important to permit an +interview, the visitor said: "Nancy, I'll see you tomorrow." A +preoccupied goodbye followed the interviewer, and the excited +conversation rose again. + +Three days later Nancy was found on the cluttered back porch of her +house by the canal. She was moving heavily about, picking up behind a +white boy and her bright-faced grandchild. Her face was still worried, +but her manner was warm and friendly. + +"I knowed you'd be comin'," she said, smiling, "but I looked for you +yesterday." She sat down and settled herself for conversation, her long +hands, still nice looking in spite of rheumatism, moving nervously over +her gray chambray lap. "Dis las' gone August I was 72 years old," she +began, "my sister say I older dan dat, but I know I born las' year of de +war. I was born on governor Pickens' place, de Grove place fur out, and +my mother was Lizbeth Cohen. Must have was my father a Indian, he +brighter dan me, but redder. I kin' member Miss Dooshka Pickens, de one +what went to Europe. Dey put all de lil' chillun in a row for her to +look at, and she sittin' up on her lil' pony lookin' at us chillun. She +was a pretty thing, yeah, I knowed her well. After de war my mother and +father rented land, paid de rent. We liveded well. I would go to school +three months when we first gether all de krep (crop). We had a colored +teacher in de Baptist Church where dey taught school. De name was Spring +Grove. + +"My father died and mother, she moved over in Ca-lina on General +Butler's place. She work in de fields. I wouldn' go to school but three +months in de year. When I growed up I work for Colonel Doctor McKie in +de house. He de fines' doctor I ever knowed. I got married to General +Butler's place where my mother was. I done had six chillun before I come +to Augusta. I nused to work for Dr. Sam Litchenstein, 17 years. He moved +to Louisville and dat thow me out anything to do. He tried to git me to +go down dere wid him but I fell in bad health. Den my daughter and dis +yere grandchild, I couldn' bear to leave dem. I cried when Dr. Sam lef', +he was good to me. I nused to carry dis grandchild to his house wid me +all de time." + +As Nancy's plantation recollections seemed vague, she was prompted to +talk about remedies and cures and on these her mind worked with speed +and decision. + +"I had high blood pressure so bad I couldn' walk right. My head nused to +spin, laying down all night, couldn' res. One night I doze off in my +sleep and a lady's spirit come to me. Her and my mother was two friends, +her name was Cyndie Gardenigh. She say: 'Honey, in de morning when you +git up, you git you some jimpson weed and put it wid cookin' salt and +bind it on your head.' I done det. I nused to have long hair to my +shoulder. Jimpson weed done cut my hair off, but it cured my blood +pressure. Mus' did kill 'em!" + +Asked how she treated her rheumatism, Nancy replied: + +"Git a pint glass wid a pint of kerosene in it, and a block of camphor. +Cut up de camphor and mix it round in de kerosene. Pat it on when de +pain come. When I got up dis morning, dis yere hand I couldn' move, and +now it feel a heap better. Lord, I done work so hard thoo' life, and all +done tuk from me!" + +A moment's silence brought shadows to Nancy's face. A twinge in her knee +reminded her of rheumatism cures. She rubbed the painful spot and +resumed: "You know what I am wearin' on my leg now? I made me two lil' +bags and put a Irish potato in it, and when it drawed up jus' as hard as +a log it done me good. But you got to _steal_ two Irish potatoes, and +put around both legs jus' below de knee. I just' be leanin' back stiff +all de time, couldn' walk. A old white man told me about dat. He see me +walkin' along crooked and he say: 'Auntie, what's de matter?' I told +him. He say: 'Now, I'll tell you what cure me. I was off in a furn +(foreign) country, and a man say; me walking cripple, and he told me to +steal two Irish potatoes and wear 'em, and when dey git hard you burn +'em up.' I specked I bin crooked up all kind of fashion if I ain't done +dat: I always bind a piece of brass around my leg. Das' good like gold." + +The eager grandchild was hanging over Nancy's shoulder, listening and +smiling. The white boy edged up, and Nancy laughed. "Hunh! I spects dese +chillun kin 'member tomorrow every word I tells you today. Dey knows +everything." Her bony arm encircled the Negro child. "Jooroosalom +oak--we got some and give it to dis lil' thing for worms. She went off +in a trance and never come out until 2 o'clock nex' day. I think we got +de wrong thing and give her root instead of seed. I never fool wid it no +more it skeered me so. Thought we had killed de child." + +Nancy was asked what her methods were in raising children. + +"Bin so long I mos' forgot," she said. "All my babies growed straight +'cause I swep' 'em 9 times for 9 mornings from de knees down on out, +dataway, and bathed 'em wid pot liquor and dish water. I ain' nused no +root cep' sassafax roots to make tea outten das good to purge your blood +in de spring of de year. Drinkin' water from a horse trough, I hearn' +tell das good for whoopin' cough and all lika-dat." + +"Dat daughter of mine, she had a wen on her neck big as a apple. An old +lady come to me. 'I come to git my child today,' she say, 'a lady died +dis morning and I wants to take her dere.' Well I didn' want my child +gwine to de death house but she take her. De corpse ain' cold yit. She +put her 9 times across, nine times straight, and dat child was cured. +Yas'm, she got jus' as pretty face now! Ain' no use talkin', she +straighten my child, her and de Lord! De wen went and jus' pass away. +You got to do it before de corpse git cold, jus' after de breaf' pass +out of de body." + +"I done mark three of my chillun. Yas'm, I ruin't three of 'em. I was +een de country and I was gwine thoo' de orchard, and de cherries was +scarce. I looked up in de man's cherry tree, and one tree was full of +fruit. Dey jus' as pretty! I say: 'Jim, please sir, give me one of dem +cherries.' Jim say: 'No!' I stood dere wishin' for dem cherries, +scratchin' my wrist, and my child born wid cherry on his wrist, right +where I scratch! I took de baby and showed him to old man Jim, and he +cry and pray over dat cherry and told me to forgive him and he never +would do it no more. But he done it den." + +"I live in de country. I come to town where a white man was down here on +McKinne Street makin' dat soft white candy. I stood up and wished for +it. It did look so pretty and I wanted some so bad and I didn' have no +money. I was cryin', scratchin' my forehead over my right eye near de +hair. He didn' give me none. When my gal born, she had white mark right +on her forehead in de place I scratched." + +"My sister-in-law made me ruin't my other child. Twas an old man coming +along. He was ruptured. He had on a white ap'on, and she bus' out +laughin' and say: 'Look at dat!' I jus' young gal, ain' be thinkin' and +I bus' out laughin' too, he did look funny. I ruin't my boy. He was in +de same fix and when I look at him I feel so bad, and think 'dat didn' +have to be.'" + +"Dis kin happen: anybody see another person wid pretty hair and rub dey +hair down, dat child gwine have mustee hair too. A old black 'oman had a +baby. She seen somebody wid dat mustee hair (das what we calls black +folks wid smooth straight hair) and when her child born, everybody say: +'Look what dis baby got! Long black hair!" + +Asked about persons born with cauls, Nancy grunted: + +"Hunh! My mother said it cover my head, shoulders and all! I kin see +ghosts. Was a man lived right dere in dat house yonder. His name was +Will Beasley but we call 'im Bee. De fus' time he got sick he had a +stroke, den he git up. De doctor told him to be careful but he would go +out. One night about 8 o'clock I see him go. I stay sittin' here on dis +porch, and about 10 o'clock here come Bee out of his house, in his night +clothes out de open door and cross de yard. He go behind dat house. I +call out: 'Bee, I thought you was gone off? He didn' notice me no more +dan I never spoke. I got worried about him bein' sick and when he come +out from behind de house I say: 'Bee, you bes' be gwine indorrs, dress +lika-dat. You git sick again.' He walk straight back in de house. Pretty +soon here come Bee down de street, all dressed up in his brown pants and +white shirt! I grab de bannister just' a-tremblin' and de hair rizzed up +on my head. I knowed den he ain' got long for here. He come on by and +say: 'Nancy, how you feelin'?' I say: 'Bee, how long you bin out?' He +say: 'Why, I bin gone since 8 o'clock.' I didn't say nuttin' but I +knowed I seed his spirit and it was his death. He tooken sick two or +three weeks later jus' before Labor Day, and died all paralyzed up. A +woman come to my house and say: 'Nancy, give dis to Bee.' I didn' want +to see him if he dyin' but I went on over. I call: 'Bee! Bee!' He say: +'Who dat, you, Miz' Nancy?' I say: 'Here's a bottle of medicine Miss +Minnie sont you.' He say: 'I can't move my right side.' He was: laying +wid his leg and arm in the air: stiff as a board. He say: 'Miz Nancy?' I +say: 'Hunh?' He say: 'Go down de canal bank and tell my Minnie please +come and rub me 'cause she know how. I want my Minnie.' Das de 'oman he +bin livin' wid since his wife lef' him. I wait till de King Mill boys +come along and call 'em. 'Tell Miz' Minnie dat Will Bee want her to come +and rub him.' But she never did come till 12 o'clock and he was dead +before she come. + +"I did had a niece what died. She was about 20 years old and a good +boy. Twas a year in August. I went on so over him, his mother say: +'Don't you know his last words was, 'I'm on my way to heaven and I ain' +gwine turn back?' Don't worry, Nancy.' But I did worry. Dat night he +come to me in spirit. He stand dere and look at me and smile, and he +say: 'Aunt, I am all right. Aunt, I am all right,' over and over. Den it +went off. I was jus' as satisfy den, and I never worry no more." + +Nancy said she saw ghosts all through her childhood. She did not +characterize them as "hants" but spoke of them throughout as ghosts. + +"I seed 'em when I was chillun," she said, "me and my sister one night +was comin' from spring. Twas in de winter time and jus' as cold, twas +dark and I had de light. Sister say: 'Babe, don't let dat light go out.' +Jus' den I seed it--a horse's head all spread out in fore! A big ball of +fire! I yelled: 'Oh, sister, look at de horse wid a head of fire!' She +knock me out for dead! She grab dat light and run home and lef' me in de +wood. When I come to I run to my mother crying and she say: 'Now Nancy, +you know you kin see 'em but you ought not to tell de other chillun and +skeer 'em. You mus' keep it to yourself.' Ever since den, I won't tell +nobody what I kin see. Yas'm, I wake up in de nighttime and see 'em +standin' all 'bout dis house. I ain' skeered--when you born wid de veil +it jus' be natchel to see 'em. Why, I sees 'em on de canal bank when de +fog sprangles through de trees and de shape forms on de ground'. + +"I hears de death alarm too. One kind of call comes from out de sky, a +big howlin' noise, loud like singin'--a regular tune. De other kind goes +'hummmmmmm' like somebody moanin'. I was settin' down and de bull bat +come in de house. Me and de chillun done all we could to git him out de +house. A woman nex' door was name Rachel. I say: 'Rachel! Dere's a bull +bat in here and we can't get him out.' You know what she done? She turn +her pocket inside out and dat bat went out de door jus' like it come in! +Dat a simple thing to do, ain' it? But it done de work. Dat was on +Thursday night. Saturday morning I got de news that my babiest sister +was dead. One of my boys was wid her. I was settin' down wid my head +bowed, prayin', and a white man dressed in a white robe come in de house +and stood before me and say: 'Oh, yeah! I gwine take your sister! Den +what your child gwine do?' I sot down and studied and I said: 'Lord, +I'll do de bes' I kin.' And Miss you know I had to take dat child back! + +"Before I los' my husband ev'y time he go out to work I couldn' hear +nuttin' but knockin'--ever he step out de house somebody come to de door +and knock four slow knocks. If he go off in de night it wouldn' stop +till he git back. I wouldn' tell him 'cause I knowed twould worry him. I +say: 'Sam, les' us move.' He say: 'Honey, we ain' long bin move here.' +But us 'cided to move anyway. Twas a big show in town. I let all de +chillun go to de show. Time I got my things fix up to move and went to +cook my dinner come de knockin' four times. I knowed he'd be took sick +pretty soon. He didn' 'low me to work. Dat was a good husband! I had six +chillun. He say: 'Honey, no! I workin' makin' enough to support you. All +I want you to do is keep dis house clean and me and my chillun, and I +will pay you de five dollars every week de white lady would pay you.' +And he done dat, gimme five dollars every week for myself. + +"A white lady was crazy about my work, jus' her and her husband. I got +up soon one morning, time he left, and runned up dere and washed her +clothes and ironed dem. Den I started back home 'bout noon. I heared +somethin' walkin' behind me. 'Bip! Bip!' I look round and didn' see +nuttin'. I kep' a lookin' back and den I heard a voice moanin' and kind +of singing: 'Oh, yeah! I bin here and done took your mother. I bin here +and done took your sister! Now I'm a-comin' to take your husband!' +Talking to me like-dat in de broad open daytime! I say: 'No, you won't! +No, you won't!' I commence a runnin', cryin' inside. When I got home I +thow myself on de bed shiverin' and shakin'. Twas no dinner done dat +day. When he come home dat night he tooken sick and never got up again. +He knock on de head of de bed jus' like de knocks come at de door, when +he want me to go to him! He never lived but two weeks and went on to de +judgment! + +"One night dey was givin' my husband toddy. He drink some and wanted me +to finish it. I told him no, I ain' drinkin' after no sick folks 'cause +it mean death. His first cousin tooked it and drank it. He was a fine +looking man in two months he was gone too! + +"My husband come to me in spirit any time I git worried up. When I git +in trouble he'll come and stand over me wid his arms folded behind him. +He told me one night: 'You must pray, Nancy. You must pray! Um gwine +help, and de Lord gwine help you too.' Missy, how you reckon he gwine +help me if he dead? I ask de Lord and beg him to take me too, beg him to +please carry me home." + +Nancy was becoming more and more doleful, and to take her mind from the +thought of her dead husband, she was asked about remedies. + +"When us had de mumps mother git sardines and take de oil out and rub us +jaws and dat cure us good. Sassafax for measles, to run de numor (humor) +out de blood. When de fever gone, she would grease us wid grease from +skin of meat. Git fat light'ood, make fire, cut de skin off bacon meat, +broil it over flame and let grease drip into a pan, den rub us all over +for de rash. Couldn' wash us you see, 'cep' under de arms a little +'cause water musn' tech us. For a sty in de eye we nused to say: 'Sty! +Lie!' You see dat call 'em a lie and dey go on off. 'Um got a sty! Sty! +Lie!' When witches ride me I took a sifter. An old lady told me de nex' +time dey come, 'you put de sifter in de bed.' I done dat and dey ain' +bother me since. A basin of water under de bed is good too." + +Nancy had an experience with a gold digger. He came to board, and had an +inconvenient habit of staying up all night. "I nused to have a old man +stay here wid me. One night I couldn' lay down it was so cold, so I sit +up and wrop in a blanket. He say: 'Nancy, see yonder! In de corner of +your yard is a pot of gold.' Now I knows if you go and git de money what +de dead done bury, you don't see no peace, so I told him he couldn' dig +in my yard. I made him move. A 'oman say he went to stay wid her and +when she got up one morning he had dug a hole in de yard big as a well, +so she runned him off too. He had all de implee-ments but he wouldn' let +nobody see him digging in de night. Well Miss, I knowed dat gold was +truly in my yard, because I got up one night and looked out dere, and a +white 'oman was standin' right where de old man say twas gold pot. I +look at de white lady, a high white lady, and she kep' her eye down in +dat corner guardin' de gold what she bury! Den I seed her go on off +thoo' de gate and I knowed twas de spirit of de woman what bury it." + +Nancy did not remember any stories about witches, booger-men or animals, +but she did give a version of the story of the mistress who was buried +alive. + +"Dat really did happen in Edgefield," she said. "Marster los' his +daughter and den his butler went to de cemetery and dugged her up. He +was gittin' de jewelries off of her finger when she moan; 'Oh, you +hurtin' my finger!' He runned back to de house and she got up out of de +coffin and went to de Big House. She knock on de door and her father +went, and he fainted. Her mother went, and she fainted. Everyone went to +de door fainted. But her father come to himself and he was so happy to +have his daughter back, he said God let de man dig her up and git her +out alive. He made dat nigger rich. Gin him a whole plantation and two +big carriage horses and a great big carriage and I dunno how much gold +and silver. Told him he didn' want him to do anything but sit down and +live off of what he gin him de res' of his life." + +Nancy asked her visitor to write a postcard to her "dear doctor" in +Louisville and tell him she was having a hard time. She insisted that +the card be signed: "Your Carrie Fryer what used to work for you, with +love." + +"Come back and see me some more," she begged wistfully, "I bin callin' +you in my mind all week." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +ANDERSON FURR, Age 87 +298 W. Broad Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (white)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +Anderson Furr's address led the interviewer to a physician's residence +on Broad Street, where she was directed to a small frame house on the +rear of the lot. The little three-room cottage has a separate entrance +from Pulaski Street. Three stone steps lead from the street to the +narrow yard which is enclosed by a low rock coping. Anderson rents only +one room and the remainder of the house is occupied by Annie Sims and +her husband, George, who works at the Holman Hotel. + +Reclining comfortably in a cane-backed chair, with his walking stick +conveniently placed across his knees, Anderson was enjoying the shade of +a wide spread oak tree in the tidy yard. His costume consisted of a +battered old black felt hat, a dingy white shirt, dark gray pants, and +scuffed black shoes. Asked if he remembered the days when the North was +fighting the South for his freedom, Anderson replied: "'Member fightin'! +Why, Lady! Dey ain't never stopped fightin' yit. Folks has been +a-fightin' ever since I come in dis world, and dey will be fightin' long +atter I is gone. + +"I dis'members what was de name of de town whar I was borned, but it was +in Hall County. Lydia and Earl Strickland was my Ma and Pa. All of deir +chillun is daid now 'cept me and Bob. De others was: Abe, Bill, Jim, +and Sarah. Dere ain't much to tell 'bout what us done dem days, 'cept +play and eat. Dem what was big 'nough had to wuk. + +"Lordy, Miss! It's lak dis: I is a old Nigger, and I done been here for +many years, but dese last few years I sho' has been a sick man, and now +I can't git things straight in my mind lak dey was den. I knows us lived +in log houses what had great big chimblies made out of sticks and mud. +Why, dem fireplaces was 'bout eight feet wide, and you could put a whole +stick of cord wood on de fire. Us slept on high-up old timey beds what +had big posties and instead of springs, dey had stout cords wove 'cross +to hold de mattress. De last time I slept on one of dem sort of beds was +when I was a little boy, sleepin' wid my Ma. Pa and Ma was both field +hands. Ma's mammy was de onliest one of my grandmas I ever seed. Her +name was Ca'line and she lived wid Grandpa Abe on another plantation. +Ma's sister, my aunt Ca'line was cook up at our Old Marster's big house. + +"Money? Yessum! Dey gimme a little money now and den for totin' water to +de field, sweepin' de yards, and a million other things dey used to make +me do. De most dey ever gimme was 50 cents. I never spent none of it, +but jus' turned it over to my Ma. Chillun warn't 'lowed to spend money +den lak dey does now, 'cause dey had evvything dey needed anyhow. Old +Marster, he give us plenty somepin t'eat, such as it was. Dere was lots +of cornbread, a little meat now and den, collards, whip-poor-will peas +and dem unknown peas what was most big as a dime, and black 'lasses--dat +was lallyho. + +"Us cotch lots of 'possums, but mighty few of 'em us Niggers ever got a +chance to eat, or rabbits neither. Dey made Niggers go out and hunt 'em +and de white folks et 'em. Our mouths would water for some of dat +'possum but it warn't often dey let us have none. I don't know nothin' +'bout no fishin' bein' done dem days. Yessum, slaves had deir own +gyardens, and dey better wuk 'em good if dey wanted any gyarden sass to +eat. Cookin' was done in dem big open fireplaces, mostly in pots and +thick iron skillets what had lids on 'em. + +"Boys wore long blue striped shirts in summer and nothin' else a t'all. +Dem shirts was made jus' lak mother hubbards. Us wore de same thing in +winter only dem shirts was made new for winter. By summer dey had done +wore thin. When de weather got too cold, Marster give us old coats, what +grown folks had done most wore out, and us warn't none too warm den wid +de wind a-sailin' under our little old shirt tails. Our shoes was rough +old brogans what was hard as rocks, and us had to put rags inside 'em to +keep 'em from rubbin' de skin off our foots. Us didn't know what socks +and stockin's was dem. + +"Marse Earl Strickland owned us. Miss Sarah was his old 'oman and dey +was sho' mighty good to deir slaves. White folks was heap better folks +den dan dey is now anyhow. Now-a-days dey will knock you up right now, +and won't be long 'bout it. I can't git up no ricollections 'bout 'em +havin' no chillun a t'all. Seems lak I know for sho' dey didn't have +none. Dey never had no fine house neither; jus' a plain common house wid +a chimbly at both ends. + +"Oh, Lord! Marster never had no overseer; no car'iage driver neither; +didn't even have no car'iage yit. He did have a surrey what he hitched +mules to and driv for hisself. Warn't no hoss on dat plantation, nothin' +'cept mules. + +"How big was dat plantation? Good Granny! it was so big I never did git +all de way over it, and dere must a been 15 or 20 slaves. Old Marster +got us up 'bout sunrise and fetched us in at sundown. He was all time +knockin' on his Niggers 'bout somepin. He 'lowed dey didn't do dis, or +dat, or somepin else right--he allus had to have some 'scuse to knock +'em 'round." + +A little Negro boy, possibly five years old, came up to Anderson with a +peach in his hand and said: "Look, Uncle Anderson, C.T. done gimme dis +peach what he stole off dat dar wagon." The old man reached out his +hand. "Boy, you gimme dat peach," he commanded. "You knows I lak +peaches. Give it to me, I say. I do declar', nigger chillun jus' got to +steal anyhow. Run git yourself 'nother peach off dat wagon, but don't +you let dat man see you git it. Put dat peach under your shirt 'til you +gits in dis yard, and if you leave dis yard 'gain I'll buss your haid +wide open. Does you hear me, Boy? + +"What was dat you was a-axin' 'bout jails, Miss? Yessum, us had 'em. +Niggers would git too rowdy-lak, drinkin' liquor and fightin', and dat +was when de white folks slapped 'em in de gyardhouse, widout a bite to +eat. Gyardhouses is called jails dese days. I'se lak my Ma. I'se a +fighter. Ma would jump on anybody what looked at her twice. De onliest +time I ever got in de gyardhouse was a long time atter de end of de big +War. A man owed me some money, and when I axed him for it, he got mad +and knocked me down. I got right up and knocked him out, and right den +and dar I was sont to de gyardhouse. + +"Good Lord, Miss! Slave folks warn't 'lowed no time for to larn readin' +and writin'. Deir time was all tuk up in de field at wuk. Slaves went to +de white folks' church, but one thing sho' dey couldn't read de Bible +for deirselfs and couldn't write none. Jus' to tell de truth, I didn't +take in what dey sung at church, but I ain't forgot dem baptizin's. I'se +been to so many of 'em. Evvybody went in dem days. Dere warn't no place +in de church houses for to be ducked dem days, so de white folks had a +pool dug out by de branch for de baptizin's, and white folks and slaves +was ducked in de same pool of water. White folks went in fust and den de +Niggers. Evvybody what come dar sung a song 'bout 'My Sins has all been +Washed Away, and I is White as Snow.' + +"Slave fun'rels was mournful sights, for sho'. Dem home-made coffins was +made out of pine planks, and dey warn't painted or lined or nothin'. And +slave coffins warn't no diffunt from de ones de white folks used. Our +Marster sot aside a spot in his own buryin' grounds for de slaves' +graveyard. When dey was a-buryin' folks dey sung a song what went +somepin lak dis: 'Oh, Lord! Us takes 'em to de Graveyard, Never to fetch +'em Back.' + +"If slaves did run off to de North, I never heared nothin' 'bout it. +Oh, Lord! I jus' can't talk 'bout dem patterollers, for it looked lak +all de white folks tried to jine up wid 'em. How dey did beat up us pore +Niggers! Us had to git a pass for dis and a pass for dat, and dere jus' +warn't nothin' us could do widout dem patterollers a-beatin' us up. Dey +beat you wid a cowhide lash what cut a gash in your back evvy time it +struck you. Yessum, white folks and Niggers was all time quar'ellin' and +fightin'. + +"When slaves got in from de fields dey et deir somepin t'eat and went to +bed. Dey didn't have to wuk on Saddays atter dinnertime. When our old +Marster turned us loose, he turned us loose; and when he wuked us, us +sho' was wuked. De young folks had deir big times on Sadday nights. Dey +danced and frolicked 'round sort of lak dey does now. Evvybody went to +de meetin' house on Sunday, and dere's whar Niggers had a good time +a-courtin'. + +"Christmas was de time when old Marster let us do pretty much as us +pleased. Us had all kinds of good things t'eat, and atter us drunk a lot +of liquor it warn't long 'fore dere was a Nigger fight goin' on. Yessum, +us had cornshuckin's, cotton pickin's, quiltin's, log rollin's, and all +sich as dat. Wid plenty t'eat and good liquor to drink on hand, Niggers +would shuck corn or pick cotton all night. It was de big eats and lots +of liquor dat made slaves lak dem things. + +"Little slave boys played wid sun-baked marbles, made of mud, and old +rag balls, what was sho' a heap diffunt from what chilluns thinks dey +has got to have dese days 'fore dey kin have a good time. + +"Marster had mighty good keer tuk of his slaves when dey got sick. Dere +warn't many doctors dem days. Dey jus' used home-made medicines, mostly +teas made out of yarbs (herbs). I jus' can't git up no ricollection of +what yarbs dey did put in dem teas. I does 'member dat chillun had to +live wid bags of assfiddy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off +ailments. Ma give me and Bob, each one, a block of dat assfiddy for good +luck. I throwed my block 'way a few years ago, and I ain't had nothin' +but bad luck ever since. Dat's why I can't git up de things you wants to +know 'bout. My mind jus' don't wuk right no more. + +"Dem yankees was on de go all de time. One of 'em come to old Marster's +house and axed one of my uncles to go off wid him. Uncle was old and +skeered and he thought de yankees might kill him or somepin lak dat. +When de War was done over, old Marster told us 'bout how things was. He +said us was free and would have to do de best us could for ourselfs. Dem +was happy days for Niggers. Dey sho' didn't take no more foolishment off +of white folks atter dat, and dey don't pay 'em no mind now. Niggers got +so bad atter dey got deir freedom dat de Ku Kluxers come 'round and made +'em be'have deirselfs. One of dem Kluxers come to our house and set down +and talked to us 'bout how us ought to act, and how us was goin' to have +to do, if us 'spected to live and do well. Us allus thought it was our +own old Marster, all dressed up in dem white robes wid his face kivvered +up, and a-talkin' in a strange, put-on lak, voice. None of Marster's +Niggers never left him for 'bout two or three years. Dere warn't no way +for Niggers to buy no land 'til atter dey could make and save up some +money. Marster jus' paid up his Niggers once a year, at de end of crap +time. It warn't long atter de War was over 'fore dere was some few +schools for Niggers scattered 'round 'bout. + +"When did I git married? Lordy, Miss! Such things de giverment do want +to know 'bout pore old Niggers! It warn't 'til ten years atter us was +freed, dat me and Martha Freeman got married up together. Dat was one +sho' 'nough fine weddin' what Miss Sallie Morton and our other white +friends give us. Dey give us evvything us had at dat big old feast. Dere +was three tables full, one for de white folks, and two for de Niggers, +and dem tables was jus' loaded down wid good things. Willie and Ida was +de onliest chillun me and Martha had, and dey never lived to git grown. +Martha died out and den I married up wid Mamie White. Us didn't have no +chillun and Mamie's daid now. Dey's all daid 'cept me. + +"I thinks it was a good thing Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis did set us free, +and I sho hopes de giverment won't never fetch slavery back no more. + +"I never will forgit de day I jined up wid Morton's Baptist Church. I +had done helped my Pa build it from a brush arbor to a sho' 'nough +church house. De reason I jined up was 'cause de Marster had done +changed me from nature to Grace. I thinks evvybody ought to jine up in +de church 'cause it's de Lord's will. + +"Miss, I done told you all I knows and I'se a sick man, so go 'long wid +you and let me take my rest." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of +Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1, by Work Projects Administration + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13602 *** diff --git a/13602-h/13602-h.htm b/13602-h/13602-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e796e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/13602-h/13602-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9721 @@ +<!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: +Georgia Narratives, Volume IV, Part 1</title> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13602 ***</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 IV</h2> + +<h2>GEORGIA NARRATIVES</h2> + +<h2>PART 1</h2> + + + +<h3>Prepared by<br> +the Federal Writers' Project of<br> +the Works Progress Administration<br> +for the State of Georgia</h3> +<br><br><br> + + +<h2>INFORMANTS</h2> + +<a href='#AdamsRachel'>Adams, Rachel</a><br> +<a href='#AllenWashington'>Allen, Uncle Wash</a> [TR: originally listed as Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)]<br> +<a href='#AllenWB'>Allen, Rev. W.B.</a> [TR: different informant]<br> +<a href='#AtkinsonJack'>Atkinson, Jack</a><br> +<a href='#AustinHannah'>Austin, Hannah</a><br> +<a href='#AveryCelestia'>Avery, Celestia</a><br> +<a href='#AveryCelestia2'>Avery, Celestia</a> + [TR: second interview]<br> + [TR: also appended is interview with <a href='#HeardEmmaline'>Emmaline Heard</a> +that is repeated in Part 2 of Georgia Narratives]<br> +<br> +<a href='#BakerGeorgia'>Baker, Georgia</a><br> +<a href='#BattleAlice'>Battle, Alice</a><br> +<a href='#BattleJasper'>Battle, Jasper</a><br> +<a href='#BinnsArrie'>Binns, Arrie</a><br> +<a href='#BlandHenry'>Bland, Henry</a><br> +<a href='#BodyRias'>Body, Rias</a><br> +<a href='#BoltonJames'>Bolton, James</a><br> +<a href='#BostwickAlec'>Bostwick, Alec</a><br> +<a href='#BoudryNancy'>Boudry, Nancy</a><br> +<a href='#BradleyAlice'>Bradley, Alice</a>, and <a href='#ColquittKizzie'>Colquitt, Kizzie</a> + [TR: interviews filed together though not connected]<br> +<a href='#BriscoeDella'>Briscoe, Della</a><br> +<a href='#BrooksGeorge'>Brooks, George</a><br> +<a href='#BrownEaster'>Brown, Easter</a><br> +<a href='#BrownJulia'>Brown, Julia</a> (Aunt Sally)<br> +<a href='#BunchJulia'>Bunch, Julia</a><br> +<a href='#ButlerMarshal'>Butler, Marshal</a><br> +<a href='#ByrdSarah'>Byrd, Sarah</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#CallawayMariah'>Calloway, Mariah</a><br> +<a href='#CastleSusan'>Castle, Susan</a><br> +<a href='#ClaybournEllen'>Claibourn, Ellen</a><br> +<a href='#ClayBerry'>Clay, Berry</a><br> +<a href='#CodyPierce'>Cody, Pierce</a><br> +<a href='#CoferWillis'>Cofer, Willis</a><br> +<a href='#ColbertMary'>Colbert, Mary</a><br> +<a href='#ColeJohn'>Cole, John</a><br> +<a href='#ColeJulia'>Cole, Julia</a><br> +<a href='#ColquittMartha'>Colquitt, Martha</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#DavisMinnie'>Davis, Minnie</a><br> +<a href='#DavisMose'>Davis, Mose</a><br> +<a href='#DerricoteIke'>Derricotte, Ike</a><br> +<a href='#DillardBenny'>Dillard, Benny</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#EasonGeorge'>Eason, George</a><br> +<a href='#ElderCallie'>Elder, Callie</a><br> +<a href='#EveretteMartha'>Everette, Martha</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#FavorLewis'>Favor, Lewis</a> [TR: also referred to as Favors]<br> +<a href='#FergusonMary'>Ferguson, Mary</a><br> +<a href='#FryerCarrieNancy'>Fryer, Carrie Nancy</a><br> +<a href='#FurrAnderson'>Furr, Anderson</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<a href="#img_MB">Marshal Butler</a> [TR: not listed in original index]<br> +<a href="#img_JC">John Cole</a><br> +<br> + +<p>[TR: The interview headers presented here contain all information +included in the original, but may have been rearranged for readability. +Also, some ages and addresses have been drawn from blocks of information +on subsequent interview pages. Names in brackets were drawn from text of +interviews.]</p> + +<p>[TR: Some interviews were date-stamped; these dates have been added +to interview headers in brackets. Where part of date could not be +determined -- has been substituted. These dates do not appear to +represent actual interview dates, rather dates completed interviews +were received or perhaps transcription dates.]</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AdamsRachel"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +RACHEL ADAMS, Age 78<br> +300 Odd Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>Rachel Adams' two-room, frame house is perched on the side of a steep +hill where peach trees and bamboo form dense shade. Stalks of corn at +the rear of the dwelling reach almost to the roof ridge and a portion of +the front yard is enclosed for a chicken yard. Stepping gingerly around +the amazing number of nondescript articles scattered about the small +veranda, the visitor rapped several times on the front door, but +received no response. A neighbor said the old woman might be found at +her son's store, but she was finally located at the home of a daughter.</p> + +<p>Rachel came to the front door with a sandwich of hoecake and cheese in +one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Dis here's Rachel Adams," +she declared. "Have a seat on de porch." Rachel is tall, thin, very +black, and wears glasses. Her faded pink outing wrapper was partly +covered by an apron made of a heavy meal sack. Tennis shoes, worn +without hose, and a man's black hat completed her outfit.</p> + +<p>Rachel began her story by saying: "Miss, dats been sich a long time back +dat I has most forgot how things went. Anyhow I was borned in Putman +County 'bout two miles from Eatonton, Georgia. My Ma and Pa was 'Melia +and Iaaac Little and, far as I knows, dey was borned and bred in dat +same county. Pa, he was sold away from Ma when I was still a baby. Ma's +job was to weave all de cloth for de white folks. I have wore many a +dress made out of de homespun what she wove. Dere was 17 of us chillun, +and I can't 'member de names of but two of 'em now—dey was John and +Sarah. John was Ma's onliest son; all de rest of de other 16 of us was +gals.</p> + +<p>"Us lived in mud-daubed log cabins what had old stack chimblies made out +of sticks and mud. Our old home-made beds didn't have no slats or metal +springs neither. Dey used stout cords for springs. De cloth what dey +made the ticks of dem old hay mattresses and pillows out of was so +coarse dat it scratched us little chillun most to death, it seemed lak +to us dem days. I kin still feel dem old hay mattresses under me now. +Evvy time I moved at night it sounded lak de wind blowin' through dem +peach trees and bamboos 'round de front of de house whar I lives now.</p> + +<p>"Grandma Anna was 115 years old when she died. She had done wore herself +out in slavery time. Grandpa, he was sold off somewhar. Both of 'em was +field hands.</p> + +<p>"Potlicker and cornbread was fed to us chillun, out of big old wooden +bowls. Two or three chillun et out of de same bowl. Grown folks had +meat, greens, syrup, cornbread, 'taters and de lak. 'Possums! I should +say so. Dey cotch plenty of 'em and atter dey was kilt ma would scald +'em and rub 'em in hot ashes and dat clean't 'em jus' as pretty and +white. OO-o-o but dey was good. Lord, Yessum! Dey used to go fishin' and +rabbit huntin' too. Us jus' fotched in game galore den, for it was de +style dem days. Dere warn't no market meat in slavery days. Seemed lak +to me in dem days dat ash-roasted 'taters and groundpeas was de best +somepin t'eat what anybody could want. 'Course dey had a gyarden, and it +had somepin of jus' about evvything what us knowed anything 'bout in de +way of gyarden sass growin' in it. All de cookin' was done in dem big +old open fireplaces what was fixed up special for de pots and ovens. +Ashcake was most as good as 'taters cooked in de ashes, but not quite.</p> + +<p>"Summertime, us jus' wore homespun dresses made lak de slips dey use for +underwear now. De coats what us wore over our wool dresses in winter was +knowed as 'sacques' den, 'cause dey was so loose fittin'. Dey was heavy +and had wool in 'em too. Marse Lewis, he had a plenty of sheep, 'cause +dey was bound to have lots of warm winter clothes, and den too, dey +lakked mutton to eat. Oh! dem old brogan shoes was coarse and rough. +When Marse Lewis had a cow kilt dey put de hide in de tannin' vat. When +de hides was ready, Uncle Ben made up de shoes, and sometimes dey let +Uncle Jasper holp him if dere was many to be made all at one time. Us +wore de same sort of clothes on Sunday as evvyday, only dey had to be +clean and fresh when dey was put on Sunday mornin'.</p> + +<p>"Marse Lewis Little and his wife, Miss Sallie, owned us, and Old Miss, +she died long 'fore de surrender. Marse Lewis, he was right good to all +his slaves; but dat overseer, he would beat us down in a minute if us +didn't do to suit him. When dey give slaves tasks to do and dey warn't +done in a certain time, dat old overseer would whup 'em 'bout dat. +Marster never had to take none of his Niggers to court or put 'em in +jails neither; him and de overseer sot 'em right. Long as Miss Sallie +lived de carriage driver driv her and Marse Lewis around lots, but atter +she died dere warn't so much use of de carriage. He jus' driv for Marse +Lewis and piddled 'round de yard den.</p> + +<p>"Some slaves larnt to read and write. If dey went to meetin' dey had to +go wid deir white folks 'cause dey didn't have no sep'rate churches for +de Niggers 'til atter de war. On our Marster's place, slaves didn't go +off to meetin' a t'all. Dey jus' went 'round to one another's houses and +sung songs. Some of 'em read de Bible by heart. Once I heared a man +preach what didn't know how to read one word in de Bible, and he didn't +even have no Bible yit.</p> + +<p>"De fust baptizin' I ever seed was atter I was nigh 'bout grown. If a +slave from our place ever jined up wid a church 'fore de war was over, I +never heared tell nothin' 'bout it.</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Miss! I didn't know nothin' 'bout what a funeral was dem days. +If a Nigger died dis mornin', dey sho' didn't waste no time a-puttin' +him right on down in de ground dat same day. Dem coffins never had no +shape to 'em; dey was jus' squar-aidged pine boxes. Now warn't dat +turrible?</p> + +<p>"Slaves never went nowhar widout dem patterollers beatin' 'em up if dey +didn't have no pass.</p> + +<p>"Dere was hunderds of acres in dat dere plantation. Marse Lewis had a +heap of slaves. De overseer, he had a bugle what he blowed to wake up +de slaves. He blowed it long 'fore day so dat dey could eat breakfast +and be out dere in de fields waitin' for de sun to rise so dey could see +how to wuk, and dey stayed out dar and wukked 'til black dark. When a +rainy spell come and de grass got to growin' fast, dey wukked dem slaves +at night, even when de moon warn't shinin'. On dem dark nights one set +of slaves helt lanterns for de others to see how to chop de weeds out of +de cotton and corn. Wuk was sho' tight dem days. Evvy slave had a task +to do atter dey got back to dem cabins at night. Dey each one hed to +spin deir stint same as de 'omans, evvy night.</p> + +<p>"Young and old washed deir clothes Sadday nights. Dey hardly knowed what +Sunday was. Dey didn't have but one day in de Christmas, and de only +diff'unce dey seed dat day was dat dey give 'em some biscuits on +Christmas day. New Year's Day was rail-splittin' day. Dey was told how +many rails was to be cut, and dem Niggers better split dat many or +somebody was gwine to git beat up.</p> + +<p>"I don't 'member much 'bout what us played, 'cept de way us run 'round +in a ring. Us chillun was allus skeered to play in de thicket nigh de +house 'cause Raw Head and Bloody Bones lived der. Dey used to skeer us +out 'bout red 'taters. Dey was fine 'taters, red on de outside and +pretty and white on de inside, but white folks called 'em +'nigger-killers.' Dat was one of deir tricks to keep us from stealin' +dem 'taters. Dere wern't nothin' wrong wid dem 'taters; dey was jus' as +good and healthy as any other 'taters. Aunt Lucy, she was de cook, and +she told me dat slaves was skeered of dem 'nigger-killer' 'taters and +never bothered 'em much den lak dey does de yam patches dese days. I +used to think I seed ha'nts at night, but it allus turned out to be +somebody dat was tryin' to skeer me.</p> + +<p>"'Bout de most fun slaves had was at dem cornshuckin's. De general would +git high on top of de corn pile and whoop and holler down leadin' dat +cornshuckin' song 'til all de corn was done shucked. Den come de big +eats, de likker, and de dancin'. Cotton pickin's was big fun too, and +when dey got through pickin' de cotton dey et and drunk and danced 'til +dey couldn't dance no more.</p> + +<p>"Miss, white folks jus' had to be good to sick slaves, 'cause slaves was +property. For Old Marster to lose a slave, was losin' money. Dere warn't +so many doctors dem days and home-made medicines was all de go. Oil and +turpentine, camphor, assfiddy (asafetida), cherry bark, sweetgum bark; +all dem things was used to make teas for grown folks to take for deir +ailments. Red oak bark tea was give to chillun for stomach mis'ries.</p> + +<p>"All I can ricollect 'bout de comin' of freedom was Old Marster tellin' +us dat us was free as jack-rabbits and dat from den on Niggers would +have to git deir own somepin t'eat. It warn't long atter dat when dem +yankees, wid pretty blue clothes on come through our place and dey stole +most evvything our Marster had. Dey kilt his chickens, hogs, and cows +and tuk his hosses off and sold 'em. Dat didn't look right, did it?</p> + +<p>"My aunt give us a big weddin' feast when I married Tom Adams, and she +sho' did pile up dat table wid heaps of good eatments. My weddin' dress +was blue, trimmed in white. Us had six chillun, nine grandchillun, and +19 great-grandchillun. One of my grandchillun is done been blind since +he was three weeks old. I sont him off to de blind school and now he kin +git around 'most as good as I kin. He has made his home wid me ever +since his Mammy died.</p> + +<p>"'Cordin' to my way of thinkin', Abraham Lincoln done a good thing when +he sot us free. Jeff Davis, he was all right too, 'cause if him and +Lincoln hadn't got to fightin' us would have been slaves to dis very +day. It's mighty good to do jus' as you please, and bread and water is +heaps better dan dat somepin t'eat us had to slave for.</p> + +<p>"I jined up wid de church 'cause I wanted to go to Heben when I dies, +and if folks lives right dey sho' is gwine to have a good restin' place +in de next world. Yes Mam, I sho b'lieves in 'ligion, dat I does. Now, +Miss, if you ain't got nothin' else to ax me, I'se gwine home and give +dat blind boy his somepin t'eat."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AllenWashington"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br> +Ex-Slv. #4]<br> +<br> +WASHINGTON ALLEN, EX-SLAVE<br> +Born: December --, 1854<br> +Place of birth: "Some where" in South Carolina<br> +Present Residence: 1932-Fifth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia<br> +Interviewed: December 18, 1936<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> + +<p>[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the next informant, Rev. W.B. Allen.]</p> +<br> + +<p>The story of "Uncle Wash", as he is familiarly known, is condensed as +follows:</p> + +<p>He was born on the plantation of a Mr. Washington Allen of South +Carolina, for whom he was named. This Mr. Allen had several sons and +daughters, and of these, one son—George Allen—who, during the 1850's +left his South Carolina home and settled near LaFayette, Alabama. About +1858, Mr. Washington Allen died and the next year, when "Wash" was "a +five-year old shaver", the Allen estate in South Carolina was +divided—all except the Allen Negro slaves. These, at the instance and +insistence of Mr. George Allen, were taken to LaFayette, Alabama, to be +sold. All were put on the block and auctioned off, Mr. George Allen +buying every Negro, so that not a single slave family was divided up.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Wash" does not remember what he "fetched at de sale", but he does +distinctly remember that as he stepped up on the block to be sold, the +auctioneer ran his hand "over my head and said: Genilmens, dis boy is +as fine as split silk". Then when Mr. George Allen had bought all the +Allen slaves, it dawned upon them, and they appreciated, why he had +insisted on their being sold in Alabama, rather than in South Carolina.</p> + +<p>Before he was six years of age, little "Wash" lost his mother and, from +then until freedom, he was personally cared for and looked after by Mrs. +George Allen; and the old man wept every time he mentioned her name.</p> + +<p>During the '60's, "Uncle Wash's" father drove a mail and passenger stage +between Cusseta and LaFayette, Alabama—and, finally died and was buried +at LaFayette by the side of his wife. "Uncle Wash" "drifted over" to +Columbus about fifty years ago and is now living with his two surviving +children.</p> + +<p>He has been married four times, all his wives dying "nachul" deaths. He +has also "buried four chillun".</p> + +<p>He was taught to read and write by the sons and daughters of Mr. George +Allen, and attended church where a one-eyed white preacher—named Mr. +Terrentine—preached to the slaves each Sunday "evenin'" (afternoon). +The salary of this preacher was paid by Mr. George Allen.</p> + +<p>When asked what this preacher usually preached about, "Uncle Wash" +answered: "He was a one-eyed man an' couldn' see good; so, he mout +a'made some mistakes, but he sho tole us plenty 'bout hell fire 'n +brimstone."</p> + +<p>"Uncle Wash" is a literal worshipper of the memory of his "old time +white fokes."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AllenWB"></a> +<h3>J.R. Jones<br> +<br> +REV. W.B. ALLEN, EX-SLAVE<br> +425-Second Ave<br> +Columbus, Georgia<br> +(June 29, 1937)<br> +[JUL 28 1937]</h3> + +<p>[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the previous informant, Washington +Allen, interviewed on Dec. 18, 1936. The previous interview for Rev. +Allen that is mentioned below is not found in this volume.]</p> +<br> + +<p>In a second interview, the submission of which was voluntarily sought by +himself, this very interesting specimen of a rapidly vanishing type +expressed a desire to amend his previous interview (of May 10, 1937) to +incorporate the following facts:</p> + +<p>"For a number of years before freedom, my father bought his time from +his master and traveled about over Russell County (Alabama) as a +journeyman blacksmith, doing work for various planters and making good +money—as money went in those days—on the side. At the close of the +war, however, though he had a trunk full of Confederate money, all of +his good money was gone.</p> + +<p>Father could neither read nor write, but had a good head for figures and +was very pious. His life had a wonderful influence upon me, though I was +originally worldly—that is, I drank and cussed, but haven't touched a +drop of spirits in forty years and quit cussing before I entered the +ministry in 1879.</p> + +<p>I learned to pray when very young and kept it up even in my unsaved +days. My white master's folks knew me to be a praying boy, and asked +me—in 1865—when the South was about whipped and General Wilson was +headed our way—to pray to God to hold the Yankees back. Of course, I +didn't have any love for any Yankees—and haven't now, for that +matter—but I told my white folks straight-from-the-shoulder that I +<i>could not</i> pray along those lines. I told them flat-footedly that, +while I loved them and would do any reasonable praying for them, I could +not pray against my conscience: that I not only wanted to be free, but +that I wanted to see all the Negroes freed!</p> + +<p>I then told them that God was using the Yankees to scourge the +slave-holders just as He had, centuries before, used heathens and +outcasts to chastise His chosen people—the Children of Israel."</p> + +<p>(Here it is to be noted that, for a slave boy of between approximately +15 and 17 years of age, remarkable familiarity with the Old Testament +was displayed.)</p> + +<p>The Parson then entered into a mild tirade against Yankees, saying:</p> + +<p>"The only time the Northern people ever helped the Nigger was when they +freed him. They are not friends of the Negro and many a time, from my +pulpit, have I warned Niggers about going North. No, sir, the colored +man doesn't belong in the North—-has no business up there, and you may +tell the world that the Reverend W.B. Allen makes no bones about saying +that! He also says that, if it wasn't for the influence of the white +race in the South, the Negro race would revert to savagery within a +year! Why, if they knew for dead certain that there was not a policeman +or officer of the law in Columbus tonight, the good Lord only knows what +they'd do tonight"!</p> + +<p>When the good Parson had delivered himself as quoted, he was asked a +few questions, the answers to which—as shall follow—disclose their +nature.</p> + +<p>"The lowest down Whites of slavery days were the average overseers. A +few were gentlemen, one must admit, but the regular run of them were +trash—commoner than the 'poor white trash'—and, if possible, their +children were worse than their daddies. The name, 'overseer', was a +synonym for 'slave driver', 'cruelty', 'brutishness'. No, sir, a Nigger +may be humble and refuse to talk outside of his race—because he's +afraid to, but you can't fool him about a white man!</p> + +<p>And you couldn't fool him when he was a slave! He knows a white man for +what he is, and he knew him the same way in slavery times."</p> + +<p>Concerning the punishment of slaves, the Reverend said:</p> + +<p>"I never heard or knew of a slave being tried in court for any thing. I +never knew of a slave being guilty of any crime more serious than taking +something or violating plantation rules. And the only punishment that I +ever heard or knew of being administered slaves was whipping.</p> + +<p>I have personally known a few slaves that were beaten to death for one +or more of the following offenses:</p> + +<pre> +Leaving home without a pass, + +Talking back to—'sassing'—a white person, + +Hitting another Negro, + +Fussing, fighting, and rukkussing in the quarters, + +Lying, + +Loitering on their work, + +Taking things—the Whites called it stealing. + +Plantation rules forbade a slave to: + +Own a firearm, + +Leave home without a pass, + +Sell or buy anything without his master's consent, + +Marry without his owner's consent, + +Have a light in his cabin after a certain hour at night, + +Attend any secret meeting, + +Harbor or [HW: in] any manner assist a runaway slave, + +Abuse a farm animal, + +Mistreat a member of his family, and do + +A great many other things." +</pre> + +<p>When asked if he had ever heard slaves plot an insurrection, the Parson +answered in the negative.</p> + +<p>When asked if he had personal knowledge of an instance of a slave +offering resistance to corporal punishment, the Reverend shook his head, +but said:</p> + +<p>"Sometimes a stripped Nigger would say some hard things to the white man +with the strap in his hand, though he knew that he (the Negro) would pay +for it dearly, for when a slave showed spirit that way the master or +overseer laid the lash on all the harder."</p> + +<p>When asked how the women took their whippings, he said:</p> + +<p>"They usually screamed and prayed, though a few never made a sound."</p> + +<p>The Parson has had two wives and five children. Both wives and three of +his children are dead. He is also now superannuated, but occasionally +does a "little preaching", having only recently been down to Montezuma, +Georgia, on a special call to deliver a message to the Methodist flock +there.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AtkinsonJack"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br> +Ex-Slave #2]<br> +Henrietta Carlisle<br> +<br> +JACK ATKINSON—EX-SLAVE<br> +Rt. D<br> +Griffin, Georgia<br> +Interviewed August 21, 1936<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Onct a man, twice a child," quoted Jack Atkinson, grey haired darkey, +when being interviewed, "and I done started in my second childhood. I +useter be active as a cat, but I ain't, no mo."</p> + +<p>Jack acquired his surname from his white master, a Mr. Atkinson, who +owned this Negro family prior to the War Between the States. He was a +little boy during the war but remembers "refugeeing" to Griffin from +Butts County, Georgia, with the Atkinsons when Sherman passed by their +home on his march to the sea.</p> + +<p>Jack's father, Tom, the body-servant of Mr. Atkinson, "tuck care of him" +[HW: during] the four years they were away at war. "Many's the time I +done heard my daddy tell 'bout biting his hands he wuz so hongry, and +him and Marster drinking water outer the ruts of the road, they wuz so +thirsty, during the war."</p> + +<p>"Boss Man (Mr. Atkinson), wuz as fine a man as ever broke bread", +according to Jack.</p> + +<p>When asked how he got married he stated that he "broke off a love vine +and throwed it over the fence and if it growed" he would get married. +The vine "just growed and growed" and it wasn't long before he and Lucy +married.</p> + +<p>"A hootin' owl is a sho sign of rain, and a screech owl means a death, +for a fact."</p> + +<p>"A tree frog's holler is a true sign of rain."</p> + +<p>Jack maintains that he has received "a second blessing from the Lord" +and "no conjurer can bother him."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AustinHannah"></a> +<h3>Whitley<br> +1-25-37<br> +[HW: Dis #5<br> +Unedited]<br> +Minnie B. Ross<br> +<br> +EX TOWN SLAVE HANNAH AUSTIN<br> +[HW: about 75-85]<br> +[APR 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>When the writer was presented to Mrs. Hannah Austin she was immediately +impressed with her alert youthful appearance. Mrs. Austin is well +preserved for her age and speaks clearly and with much intelligence. The +interview was a brief but interesting one. This was due partly to the +fact that Mrs. Austin was a small child when The Civil War ended and too +because her family was classed as "town slaves" so classed because of +their superior intelligence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin was a child of ten or twelve years when the war ended. She +doesn't know her exact age but estimated it to be between seventy and +seventy five years. She was born the oldest child of Liza and George +Hall. Their master Mr. Frank Hall was very kind to them and considerate +in his treatment of them.</p> + +<p>Briefly Mrs. Austin gave the following account of slavery as she knew +it. "My family lived in a two room well built house which had many +windows and a nice large porch. Our master, Mr. Hall was a merchant and +operated a clothing store. Because Mr. Hall lived in town he did not +need but a few slaves. My family which included my mother, father, +sister, and myself were his only servants. Originally Mr. Hall did not +own any slaves, however after marrying Mrs. Hall we were given to her by +her father as a part of her inheritance.</p> + +<p>My mother nursed Mrs. Hall from a baby, consequently the Hall family was +very fond of her and often made the statement that they would not part +with her for anything in the world, besides working as the cook for the +Hall family my mother was also a fine seamstress and made clothing for +the master's family and for our family. We were allowed an ample amount +of good clothing which Mr. Hall selected from the stock in his store. My +father worked as a porter in the store and did other jobs around the +house. I did not have to work and spent most of my time playing with the +Hall children. We were considered the better class of slaves and did not +know the meaning of a hard time.</p> + +<p>Other slave owners whipped their slaves severely and often, but I have +never known our master to whip any one of my family. If any one in the +family became ill the family doctor was called in as often as he was +needed.</p> + +<p>We did not have churches of our own but were allowed to attend the white +churches in the afternoon. The White families attended in the forenoon. +We seldom heard a true religious sermon; but were constantly preached +the doctrine of obedience to our masters and mistresses. We were +required to attend church every Sunday.</p> + +<p>Marriages were conducted in much the same manner as they are today. +After the usual courtship a minister was called in by the master and the +marriage ceremony would then take place. In my opinion people of today +are more lax in their attitude toward marriage than they were in those +days. Following the marriage of a slave couple a celebration would take +place often the master and his family would take part in the +celebration.</p> + +<p>I remember hearing my mother and father discuss the war; but was too +young to know just the effect the war would have on the slave. One day I +remember Mr. Hall coming to my mother telling her we were free. His +exact words were quote—"Liza you don't belong to me any longer you +belong to yourself. If you are hired now I will have to pay you. I do +not want you to leave as you have a home here as long as you live." I +watched my mother to see the effect his words would have on her and I +saw her eyes fill with tears. Mr. Hall's eyes filled with tears also.</p> + +<p>Soon after this incident a Yankee Army appeared in our village one day. +They practically destroyed Mr. Hall's store by throwing all clothes and +other merchandise into the streets. Seeing my sister and I they turned +to us saying, "Little Negroes you are free there are no more masters and +mistresses, here help yourselves to these clothes take them home with +you." Not knowing any better we carried stockings, socks, dresses, +underwear and many other pieces home. After this they opened the smoke +house door and told us to go in and take all of the meat we wanted.</p> + +<p>On another occasion the mistress called me asking that I come in the +yard to play with the children". Here Mrs. Austin began to laugh and +remarked "I did not go but politely told her I was free and didn't +belong to any one but my mama and papa. As I spoke these words my +mistress began to cry.</p> + +<p>My mother and father continued to live with the Halls even after freedom +and until their deaths. Although not impoverished most of the Hall's +fortune was wiped out with the war".</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin married at the age of 16 years; and was the mother of four +children, all of whom are dead. She was very ambitious and was +determined to get an education if such was possible. After the war +Northern white people came south and set up schools for the education of +Negroes. She remembers the organization of the old Storrs School from +which one of the present Negroes Colleges originated.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin proudly spoke of her old blue back speller, which she still +possesses; and of the days when she attended Storrs School.</p> + +<p>As the writer made ready to depart Mrs. Austin smilingly informed her +that she had told her all that she knew about slavery; and every word +spoken was the truth.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AveryCelestia"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br> +Ex Slave #1<br> +Ross]<br> +<br> +"A FEW FACTS OF SLAVERY"<br> +As Told by CELESTIA AVERY—EX-SLAVE<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Celestia Avery is a small mulatto woman about 5 ft. in height. She +has a remarkably clear memory in view of the fact that she is about 75 +years of age. Before the interview began she reminded the writer that +the facts to be related were either told to her by her grandmother, +Sylvia Heard, or were facts which she remembered herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery was born 75 years ago in Troupe County, LaGrange, Ga. the +eighth oldest child of Lenora and Silas Heard. There were 10 other +children beside herself. She and her family were owned by Mr. & Mrs. +Peter Heard. In those days the slaves carried the surname of their +master; this accounted for all slaves having the same name whether they +were kin or not.</p> + +<p>The owner Mr. Heard had a plantation of about 500 acres and was +considered wealthy by all who knew him. Mrs. Avery was unable to give +the exact number of slaves on the plantation, but knew he owned a large +number. Cotton, corn, peas, potatoes, (etc.) were the main crops raised.</p> + +<p>The homes provided for the slaves were two room log cabins which had one +door and one window. These homes were not built in a group together but +were more or less scattered over the plantation. Slave homes were very +simple and only contained a home made table, chair and bed which were +made of the same type of wood and could easily be cleaned by scouring +with sand every Saturday. The beds were bottomed with rope which was run +backward and forward from one rail to the other. On this framework was +placed a mattress of wheat straw. Each spring the mattresses were +emptied and refilled with fresh wheat straw.</p> + +<p>Slaves were required to prepare their own meals three times a day. This +was done in a big open fire place which was filled with hot coals. The +master did not give them much of a variety of food, but allowed each +family to raise their own vegetables. Each family was given a hand out +of bacon and meal on Saturdays and through the week corn ash cakes and +meat; which had been broiled on the hot coals was the usual diet found +in each home. The diet did not vary even at Christmas only a little +fruit was added.</p> + +<p>Each family was provided with a loom and in Mrs. Avery's family, her +grandmother, Sylvia Heard, did most of the carding and spinning of the +thread into cloth. The most common cloth for women clothes was homespun, +and calico. This same cloth was dyed and used to make men shirts and +pants. Dye was prepared by taking a berry known as the shumake berry and +boiling them with walnut peelings. Spring and fall were the seasons for +masters to give shoes and clothing to their slaves. Both men and women +wore brogan shoes, the only difference being the piece in the side of +the womens.</p> + +<p>One woman was required to do the work around the house there was also +one slave man required to work around the house doing odd jobs. Other +than these two every one else was required to do the heavy work in the +fields. Work began at "sun up" and lasted until "sun down". In the +middle of the day the big bell was rung to summon the workers from the +field, for their mid-day lunch. After work hours slaves were then free +to do work around their own cabins, such as sewing, cooking (etc.)</p> + +<p>"Once a week Mr. Heard allowed his slaves to have a frolic and folks +would get broke down from so much dancing" Mrs. Avery remarked. The +music was furnished with fiddles. When asked how the slaves came to own +fiddles she replied, "They bought them with money they earned selling +chickens." At night slaves would steal off from the Heard plantation, go +to LaGrange, Ga. and sell chickens which they had raised. Of course the +masters always required half of every thing raised by each slave and it +was not permissible for any slave to sell anything. Another form of +entertainment was the quilting party. Every one would go together to +different person's home on each separate night of the week and finish +that person's quilts. Each night this was repeated until every one had a +sufficient amount of covering for the winter. Any slave from another +plantation, desiring to attend these frolics, could do so after securing +a pass from their master.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery related the occasion when her Uncle William was caught off +the Heard plantation without a pass, and was whipped almost to death by +the "Pader Rollers." He stole off to the depths of the woods here he +built a cave large enough to live in. A few nights later he came back to +the plantation unobserved and carried his wife and two children back to +this cave where they lived until after freedom. When found years later +his wife had given birth to two children. No one was ever able to find +his hiding place and if he saw any one in the woods he would run like a +lion.</p> + +<p>Mr. Heard was a very mean master and was not liked by any one of his +slaves. Secretly each one hated him. He whipped unmercifully and in most +cases unnecessarily. However, he sometimes found it hard to subdue some +slaves who happened to have very high tempers. In the event this was the +case he would set a pack of hounds on him. Mrs. Avery related to the +writer the story told to her of Mr. Heard's cruelty by her grandmother. +The facts were as follows: "Every morning my grandmother would pray, and +old man Heard despised to hear any one pray saying they were only doing +so that they might become free niggers. Just as sure as the sun would +rise, she would get a whipping; but this did not stop her prayers every +morning before day. This particular time grandmother Sylvia was in +"family way" and that morning she began to pray as usual. The master +heard her and became so angry he came to her cabin seized and pulled her +clothes from her body and tied her to a young sapling. He whipped her so +brutally that her body was raw all over. When darkness fell her husband +cut her down from the tree, during the day he was afraid to go near her. +Rather than go back to the cabin she crawled on her knees to the woods +and her husband brought grease for her to grease her raw body. For two +weeks the master hunted but could not find her; however, when he finally +did, she had given birth to twins. The only thing that saved her was the +fact that she was a mid-wife and always carried a small pin knife which +she used to cut the navel cord of the babies. After doing this she tore +her petticoat into two pieces and wrapped each baby. Grandmother Sylvia +lived to get 115 years old.</p> + +<p>Not only was Mr. Henderson cruel but it seemed that every one he hired +in the capacity of overseer was just as cruel. For instance, Mrs. +Henderson's grandmother Sylvia, was told to take her clothes off when +she reached the end of a row. She was to be whipped because she had not +completed the required amount of hoeing for the day. Grandmother +continued hoeing until she came to a fence; as the overseer reached out +to grab her she snatched a fence railing and broke it across his arms. +On another occasion grandmother Sylvia ran all the way to town to tell +the master that an overseer was beating her husband to death. The master +immediately jumped on his horse and started for home; and reaching the +plantation he ordered the overseer to stop whipping the old man. Mrs. +Avery received one whipping, with a hair brush, for disobedience; this +was given to her by the mistress.</p> + +<p>Slaves were given separate churches, but the minister, who conducted the +services, was white. Very seldom did the text vary from the usual one of +obedience to the master and mistress, and the necessity for good +behavior. Every one was required to attend church, however, the only +self expression they could indulge in without conflict with the master +was that of singing. Any one heard praying was given a good whipping; +for most masters thought their prayers no good since freedom was the +uppermost thought in every one's head.</p> + +<p>On the Heard plantation as on a number of others, marriages were made by +the masters of the parties concerned. Marriage licenses were unheard of. +If both masters mutually consented, the marriage ceremony was considered +over with. After that the husband was given a pass to visit his wife +once a week. In the event children were born the naming of them was left +entirely to the master. Parents were not allowed to name them.</p> + +<p>Health of slaves was very important to every slave owner for loss of +life meant loss of money to them. Consequently they would call in their +family doctor, if a slave became seriously ill. In minor cases of +illness home remedies were used. "In fact," Mrs. Avery smilingly +remarked, "We used every thing for medicine that grew in the ground." +One particular home remedy was known as "Cow foot oil" which was made by +boiling cow's feet in water. Other medicines used were hoarhound tea, +catnip tea, and castor oil. Very often medicines and doctors failed to +save life; and whenever a slave died he was buried the same day. Mrs. +Avery remarked, "If he died before dinner the funeral and burial usually +took place immediately after dinner."</p> + +<p>Although a very young child, Mrs. Avery remembers the frantic attempt +slave owners made to hide their money when the war broke out. The +following is a story related concerning the Heard family. "Mr. Heard, +our master, went to the swamp, dug a hole, and hid his money, then he +and his wife left for town on their horses. My oldest brother, Percy, +saw their hiding place; and when the Yanks came looking for the money, +he carried them straight to the swamps and showed than where the money +was hidden." Although the Yeard [TR: typo "Heard"] farm was in the +country the highway was very near and Mrs. Avery told of the long army +of soldiers marching to La Grange singing the following song: "Rally +around the flag boys, rally around the flag, joy, joy, for freedom." +When the war ended Mr. Heard visited every slave home and broke the news +to each family that they were free people and if they so desired could +remain on his plantation. Mrs. Avery's family moved away, in fact most +slave families did, for old man Heard had been such a cruel master +everyone was anxious to get away from him. However, one year later he +sold his plantation to Mr George Traylor and some of the families moved +back, Mrs. Avery's family included.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery married at the age of 16; and was the mother of 14 children, +three of whom are still living. Although she has had quite a bit of +illness during her life, at present she is quite well and active in +spite of her old age. She assured the writer that the story of slavery, +which she had given her, was a true one and sincerely hoped it would do +some good in this world.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AveryCelestia2"></a> +<h3>FOLKLORE (Negro)<br> +Minnie B. Ross<br> +<br> +[MRS. CELESTIA AVERY]</h3> +<br> + +<p>In a small house at 173 Phoenix Alley, N.E. lives a little old woman +about 5 ft. 2 in. in height, who is an ex-slave. She greeted the writer +with a bright smile and bade her enter and have a seat by the small fire +in the poorly lighted room. The writer vividly recalled the interview +she gave on slavery previously and wondered if any facts concerning +superstitions, conjure, signs, etc. could be obtained from her. After a +short conversation pertaining to everyday occurrences, the subject of +superstition was broached to Mrs. Avery. The idea amused her and she +gave the writer the following facts: As far as possible the stories are +given in her exact words. The interview required two days, November 30 +and December 2, 1936.</p> + +<p>"When you see a dog lay on his stomach and slide it is a true sign of +death. This is sho true cause it happened to me. Years ago when I lived +on Pine Street I was sitting on my steps playing with my nine-months old +baby. A friend uv mine came by and sat down; and as we set there a dog +that followed her began to slide on his stomach. It scared me; and I +said to her, did you see that dog? Yes, I sho did. That night my baby +died and it wuzn't sick at all that day. That's the truth and a sho sign +of death. Anudder sign of death is ter dream of a new-born baby. One +night not so long ago I dreamt about a new-born baby and you know I went +ter the door and called Miss Mary next door and told her I dreamed about +a new-born baby, and she said, Oh! that's a sho sign of death. The same +week that gal's baby over there died. It didn't surprise me when I heard +it cause I knowed somebody round here wuz go die." She continued:</p> + +<p>"Listen, child! If ebber you clean your bed, don't you never sweep off +your springs with a broom. Always wipe 'em with a rag, or use a brush. +Jest as sho as you do you see or experience death around you. I took my +bed down and swept off my springs, and I jest happened to tell old Mrs. +Smith; and she jumped up and said, 'Child, you ought not done that +cause it's a sign of death.' Sho nuff the same night I lost another +child that wuz eight years old. The child had heart trouble, I think."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery believes in luck to a certain extent. The following are +examples of how you may obtain luck:</p> + +<p>"I believe you can change your luck by throwing a teaspoonful of sulphur +in the fire at zackly 12 o'clock in the day. I know last week I was +sitting here without a bit of fire, but I wuzn't thinking bout doing +that till a 'oman came by and told me ter scrape up a stick fire and put +a spoonful of sulphur on it; and sho nuff in a hour's time a coal man +came by and gave me a tub uv coal. Long time ago I used ter work fer +some white women and every day at 12 o'clock I wuz told ter put a +teaspoonful of sulphur in the fire."</p> + +<p>"Another thing, I sho ain't going ter let a 'oman come in my house on +Monday morning unless a man done come in there fust. No, surree, if it +seem lak one ain't coming soon, I'll call one of the boy chilluns, jest +so it is a male. The reason fer this is cause women is bad luck."</p> + +<p>The following are a few of the luck charms as described by Mrs. Avery:</p> + +<p>"Black cat bone is taken from a cat. First, the cat is killed and +boiled, after which the meat is scraped from the bones. The bones are +then taken to the creek and thrown in. The bone that goes up stream is +the lucky bone and is the one that should be kept." "There is a boy in +this neighborhood that sells liquor and I know they done locked him up +ten or twelve times but he always git out. They say he carries a black +cat bone," related Mrs. Avery.</p> + +<p>"The Devil's shoe string looks jest like a fern with a lot of roots. My +mother used to grow them in the corner of our garden. They are lucky.</p> + +<p>"Majres (?) are always carried tied in the corner of a handkerchief. I +don't know how they make 'em.</p> + +<p>"I bought a lucky stick from a man onct. It looked jest lak a candle, +only it wuz small; but he did have some sticks as large as candles and +he called them lucky sticks, too, but you had to burn them all night in +your room. He also had some that looked jest lak buttons, small and +round."</p> + +<p>The following are two stories of conjure told by Mrs. Avery:</p> + +<p>"I knowed a man onct long ago and he stayed sick all der time. He had +the headache from morning till night. One day he went to a old man that +wuz called a conjurer; this old man told him that somebody had stole the +sweat-band out of his cap and less he got it back, something terrible +would happen. They say this man had been going with a 'oman and she had +stole his sweat-band. Well, he never did get it, so he died.</p> + +<p>"I had a cousin named Alec Heard, and he had a wife named Anna Heard. +Anna stayed sick all der time almost; fer two years she complained. One +day a old conjurer came to der house and told Alec that Anna wuz +poisoned, but if he would give him $5.00 he would come back Sunday +morning and find the conjure. Alec wuz wise, so he bored a hole in the +kitchen floor so that he could jest peep through there to der back +steps. Sho nuff Sunday morning the nigger come back and as Alec watched +him he dug down in the gound a piece, then he took a ground puppy, threw +it in the hole and covered it up. All right, he started digging again +and all at onct he jumped up and cried: 'Here 'tis! I got it.' 'Got +what?' Alec said, running to the door with a piece of board. 'I got the +ground puppy dat wuz buried fer her.' Alec wuz so mad he jumped on that +man and beat him most to death. They say he did that all the time and +kept a lot of ground puppies fer that purpose." Continuing, she +explained that a ground puppy was a worm with two small horns. They are +dug up out of the ground, and there is a belief that you will die if one +barks at you.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery related two ways in which you can keep from being conjured by +anyone.</p> + +<p>"One thing I do every morning is ter sprinkle chamber-lye [HW: (urine)] +with salt and then throw it all around my door. They sho can't fix you +if you do this. Anudder thing, if you wear a silver dime around your +leg they can't fix you. The 'oman live next door says she done wore two +silver dimes around her leg for 18 years."</p> + +<p>Next is a story of the Jack O'Lantern.</p> + +<p>"Onct when I wuz a little girl a lot of us chillun used to slip off and +take walnuts from a old man. We picked a rainy night so nobody would see +us, but do you know it looked like a thousand Jack ma' Lanterns got in +behind us. They wuz all around us. I never will ferget my brother +telling me ter get out in the path and turn my pocket wrong side out. I +told him I didn't have no pocket but the one in my apron; he said, +'well, turn that one wrong side out.' Sho nuff we did and they scattered +then."</p> + +<p>Closing the interview, Mrs. Avery remarked: "That's bout all I know; but +come back some time and maybe I'll think of something else."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="HeardEmmaline"></a> +<h3>MRS. EMMALINE HEARD</h3> + +<p>[TR: This interview, which was attached to the interview with Mrs. +Celestia Avery, is also included in the second volume of the Georgia +Narratives.]</p> +<br> + +<p>On December 3 and 4, 1936, Mrs. Emmaline Heard was interviewed at her +home, 239 Cain Street. The writer had visited Mrs. Heard previously, and +it was at her own request that another visit was made. This visit was +supposed to be one to obtain information and stories on the practice of +conjure. On two previous occasions Mrs. Heard's stories had proved very +interesting, and I knew as I sat there waiting for her to begin that she +had something very good to tell me. She began:</p> + +<p>"Chile, this story wuz told ter me by my father and I know he sho +wouldn't lie. Every word of it is the trufe; fact, everything I ebber +told you wuz the trufe. Now, my pa had a brother, old Uncle Martin, and +his wife wuz name Julianne. Aunt Julianne used ter have spells and fight +and kick all the time. They had doctor after doctor but none did her any +good. Somebody told Uncle Martin to go ter a old conjurer and let the +doctors go cause they wan't doing nothing fer her anyway. Sho nuff he +got one ter come see her and give her some medicine. This old man said +she had bugs in her head, and after giving her the medicine he started +rubbing her head. While he rubbed her head he said: 'Dar's a bug in her +head; it looks jest like a big black roach. Now, he's coming out of her +head through her ear; whatever you do, don't let him get away cause I +want him. Whatever you do, catch him; he's going ter run, but when he +hits the pillow, grab 'em. I'm go take him and turn it back on the one +who is trying ter send you ter the grave.' Sho nuff that bug drap out +her ear and flew; she hollered, and old Uncle Martin ran in the room, +snatched the bed clothes off but they never did find him. Aunt Julianne +never did get better and soon she died. The conjurer said if they had a +caught the bug she would a lived."</p> + +<p>The next story is a true story. The facts as told by Mrs. Heard were +also witnessed by her; as it deals with the conjuring of one of her +sons. It is related in her exact words as nearly as possible.</p> + +<p>"I got a son named Albert Heard. He is living and well; but chile, there +wuz a time when he wuz almost ter his grave. I wuz living in town then, +and Albert and his wife wuz living in the country with their two +chillun. Well, Albert got down sick and he would go ter doctors, and go +ter doctors, but they didn't do him any good. I wuz worried ter death +cause I had ter run backards and for'ards and it wuz a strain on me. He +wuz suffering with a knot on his right side and he couldn't even fasten +his shoes cause it pained him so, and it wuz so bad he couldn't even +button up his pants. A 'oman teached school out there by the name of +Mrs. Yancy; she's dead now but she lived right here on Randolph Street +years ago. Well, one day when I wuz leaving Albert's house I met her on +the way from her school. 'Good evening, Mrs. Heard,' she says. 'How is +Mr. Albert?' I don't hardly know, I says, cause he don't get no better. +She looked at me kinda funny and said, don't you believe he's hurt?' Yes +mam, I said, I sho do. 'Well,' says she, 'I been wanting to say +something to you concerning this but I didn't know how you would take +it. If I tell you somewhere ter go will you go, and tell them I sent +you?' Yes mam, I will do anything if Albert can get better. 'All right +then', she says. 'Catch the Federal Prison car and get off at Butler +St.' In them days that car came down Forrest Ave. 'When you get to +Butler St.', she says, 'walk up to Clifton St. and go to such and such a +number. Knock on the door and a 'oman by the name of Mrs. Hirshpath will +come ter the door. Fore she let you in she go ask who sent you there; +when you tell 'er, she'll let you in. Now lemme tell you she keeps two +quarts of whisky all the time and you have ter drink a little with her; +sides that she cusses nearly every word she speaks; but don't let that +scare you; she will sho get your son up if it kin be done.' Sho nuff +that old 'oman did jest lak Mrs. Yancy said she would do. She had a +harsh voice and she spoke right snappy. When she let me in she said, sit +down. You lak whisky?' I said, well, I take a little dram sometimes. +'Well, here take some of this', she said. I poured a little bit and +drank it kinda lak I wuz afraid. She cursed and said 'I ain't go conjure +you. Drink it.' She got the cards and told me to cut 'em, so I did. +Looking at the cards, she said: 'You lak ter wait too long; they got him +marching to the cemetery. The poor thing! I'll fix those devils. (A +profane word was used instead of devils). He got a knot on his side, +ain't he?' Yes, Mam, I said. That 'oman told me everything that was +wrong with Albert and zackly how he acted. All at once she said; 'If +them d----d things had hatched in him it would a been too late. If you +do zackly lak I tell you I'll get him up from there.' I sho will, I told +her. 'Well, there's a stable sets east of his house. His house got three +rooms and a path go straight to the stable. I see it there where he +hangs his harness. Yes, I see it all, the devils! Have you got any +money?' Yes, mam, a little, I said. 'All right then,' she said. 'Go to +the drug store and get 5¢ worth of blue stone; 5¢ wheat bran; and go ter +a fish market and ask 'em ter give you a little fish brine; then go in +the woods and get some poke-root berries. Now, there's two kinds of +poke-root berries, the red skin and the white skin berry. Put all this +in a pot, mix with it the guts from a green gourd and 9 parts of red +pepper. Make a poultice and put to his side on that knot. Now, listen, +your son will be afraid and think you are trying ter do something ter +him but be gentle and persuade him that its fer his good.' Child, he sho +did act funny when I told him I wanted to treat his side. I had ter tell +him I wuz carrying out doctors orders so he could get well. He reared +and fussed and said he didn't want that mess on him. I told him the +doctor says you do very well till you go ter the horse lot then you go +blind and you can't see. He looked at me. 'Sho nuff, Ma, he said, 'that +sho is the trufe. I have ter always call one of the chillun when I go +there cause I can't see how ter get back ter the house.' Well, that +convinced him and he let me fix the medicine for him. I put him ter bed +and made the poultice, then I put it ter his side. Now this 'oman said +no one wuz ter take it off the next morning but me. I wuz suppose ter +fix three, one each night, and after taking each one off ter bury it lak +dead folks is buried, east and west, and ter make a real grave out of +each one. Well, when I told him not ter move it the next morning, but +let me move it, he got funny again and wanted to know why. Do you know I +had ter play lak I could move it without messing up my bed clothes and +if he moved it he might waste it all. Finally he said he would call me +the next morning. Sho nuff, the next morning he called me, ma! ma! come +take it off. I went in the room and he wuz smiling. I slept all night +long he said, and I feel so much better. I'm so glad, I said, and do you +know he could reach down and fasten up his shoe and it had been a long +time since he could do that. Later that day I slipped out and made my +first grave under the fig bush in the garden. I even put up head boards, +too. That night Albert said, 'Mama, fix another one. I feel so much +better.' I sho will, I said. Thank God you're better; so fer three +nights I fixed poultices and put ter his side and each morning he would +tell me how much better he felt. Then the last morning I wuz fixing +breakfast and he sat in the next room. After while Albert jumped up and +hollered, Ma! Ma!' What is it,' I said. 'Mama, that knot is gone. It +dropped down in my pants.' What! I cried. Where is it? Chile, we looked +but we didn't find anything, but the knot had sho gone. Der 'oman had +told me ter come back when the knot moved and she would tell me what +else ter do. That same day I went ter see her and when I told her she +just shouted, 'I fixed 'em, The devils! Now, says she, do you [TR: +know?] where you can get a few leaves off a yellow peachtree. It must be +a yellow peach tree, though. Yes, mam, I says to her. I have a yellow +peachtree right there in my yard. Well, she says, get a handful of +leaves, then take a knife and scrape the bark up, then make a tea and +give him so it will heal up the poison from that knot in his side, also +mix a few jimson weeds with it. I come home and told him I wanted ter +give him a tea. He got scared and said, what fer, Ma? I had ter tell him +I wuz still carrying out the doctor's orders. Well, he let me give him +the tea and that boy got well. I went back to Mrs. Hirshpath and told +her my son was well and I wanted to pay her. Go on, she said, keep the +dollar and send your chillun ter school. This sho happened ter me and I +know people kin fix you. Yes sir."</p> + +<p>The next story was told to Mrs. Heard by Mrs. Hirshpath, the woman who +cured her son.</p> + +<p>I used to go see that 'oman quite a bit and even sent some of my +friends ter her. One day while I wuz there she told me about this piece +of work she did.</p> + +<p>"There was a young man and his wife and they worked fer some white +folks. They had jest married and wuz trying ter save some money ter buy +a home with. All at onct the young man went blind and it almost run him +and his wife crazy cause they didn't know what in the world ter do. +Well, somebody told him and her about Mrs. Hirshpath, so they went ter +see her. One day, says Mrs. Hirshpath, a big fine carriage drew up in +front of her door and the coachman helped him to her door. She asked him +who sent him and he told her. She only charged 50¢ for giving advice and +after you wuz cured it wuz up ter you to give her what you wanted to. +Well, this man gave her 50¢ and she talked ter him. She says, boy, you +go home and don't you put that cap on no more. What cap? he says. That +cap you wears ter clean up the stables with, cause somebody done dressed +that cap fer you, and every time you perspire and it run down ter your +eyes it makes you blind. You jest get that cap and bring it ter me. I'll +fix 'em; they's trying ter make you blind, but I go let you see. The boy +was overjoyed, and sho nuff he went back and brought her that cap, and +it wuzn't long fore he could see good as you and me. He brought that +'oman $50, but she wouldn't take but $25 and give the other $25 back ter +him.</p> + +<p>"What I done told you is the trufe, every word of it; I know some other +things that happened but you come back anudder day fer that."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BakerGeorgia"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +GEORGIA BAKER, Age 87<br> +369 Meigs Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +Dist. Supvr.<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Ga.<br> +<br> +August 4, 1938</h3> +<br> + +<p>Georgia's address proved to be the home of her daughter, Ida Baker. The +clean-swept walks of the small yard were brightened by borders of gay +colored zinnias and marigolds in front of the drab looking two-story, +frame house. "Come in," answered Ida, in response to a knock at the +front door. "Yessum, Mammy's here. Go right in dat dere room and you'll +find her."</p> + +<p>Standing by the fireplace of the next room was a thin, very black woman +engaged in lighting her pipe. A green checked gingham apron partially +covered her faded blue frock over which she wore a black shirtwaist +fastened together with "safety first" pins. A white cloth, tied turban +fashion about her head, and gray cotton hose worn with black and white +slippers that were run down at the heels, completed her costume.</p> + +<p>"Good mornin'. Yessum, dis here's Georgia," was her greeting. "Let's go +in dar whar Ida is so us can set down. I don't know what you come for, +but I guess I'll soon find out."</p> + +<p>Georgia was eager to talk but her articulation had been impaired by a +paralytic stroke and at times it was difficult to understand her jumble +of words. After observance of the amenities; comments on the weather, +health and such subjects, she began:</p> + +<p>"Whar was I born? Why I was born on de plantation of a great man. It was +Marse Alec Stephens' plantation 'bout a mile and a half from +Crawfordville, in Taliaferro County. Mary and Grandison Tilly was my Ma +and Pa. Ma was cook up at de big house and she died when I was jus' a +little gal. Pa was a field hand, and he belonged to Marse Britt Tilly.</p> + +<p>"Dere was four of us chillun: me, and Mary, and Frances, and Mack," she +counted on the fingers of one hand. "Marse Alec let Marse Jim Johnson +have Mack for his bodyguard. Frances, she wuked in de field, and Mary +was de baby—she was too little to wuk. Me, I was 14 years old when de +war was over. I swept yards, toted water to de field, and played 'round +de house and yard wid de rest of de chillun.</p> + +<p>"De long, log houses what us lived in was called "shotgun" houses 'cause +dey had three rooms, one behind de other in a row lak de barrel of a +shotgun. All de chillun slept in one end room and de grown folkses slept +in de other end room. De kitchen whar us cooked and et was de middle +room. Beds was made out of pine poles put together wid cords. Dem +wheat-straw mattresses was for grown folkses mostly 'cause nigh all de +chillun slept on pallets. How-some-ever, dere was some few slave chillun +what had beds to sleep on. Pillows! Dem days us never knowed what +pillows was. Gals slept on one side of de room and boys on de other in +de chilluns room. Uncle Jim, he was de bed-maker, and he made up a heap +of little beds lak what dey calls cots now.</p> + +<p>"Becky and Stafford Stephens was my Grandma and Grandpa. Marse Alec +bought 'em in Old Virginny. I don't know what my Grandma done 'cause she +died 'fore I was borned, but I 'members Grandpa Stafford well enough. I +can see him now. He was a old man what slept on a trundle bed in the +kitchen, and all he done was to set by de fire all day wid a switch in +his hand and tend de chillun whilst dere mammies was at wuk. Chillun +minded better dem days dan dey does now. Grandpa Stafford never had to +holler at 'em but one time. Dey knowed dey would git de switch next if +dey didn't behave.</p> + +<p>"Now dere you is axin' 'bout dat somepin' t'eat us had dem days! Ida, +ain't dere a piece of watermelon in de ice box?" Georgia lifted the lid +of a small ice box, got out a piece of melon, and began to smack her +thick lips as she devoured it with an air of ineffable satisfaction. +When she had tilted the rind to swallow the last drop of pink juice, she +indicated that she was fortified and ready to exercise her now well +lubricated throat, by resuming her story:</p> + +<p>"Oh, yessum! Marse Alec, had plenty for his slaves to eat. Dere was +meat, bread, collard greens, snap beans, 'taters, peas, all sorts of +dried fruit, and just lots of milk and butter. Marse Alec had 12 cows +and dat's whar I learned to love milk so good. De same Uncle Jim what +made our beds made our wooden bowls what dey kept filled wid bread and +milk for de chillun all day. You might want to call dat place whar Marse +Alec had our veg'tables raised a gyarden, but it looked more lak a big +field to me, it was so big. You jus' ought to have seed dat dere +fireplace whar dey cooked all us had to eat. It was one sho 'nough big +somepin, all full of pots, skillets, and ovens. Dey warn't never 'lowed +to git full of smut neither. Dey had to be cleant and shined up atter +evvy meal, and dey sho was pretty hangin' dar in dat big old fireplace.</p> + +<p>"George and Mack was de hunters. When dey went huntin' dey brought back +jus' evvything: possums, rabbits, coons, squirrels, birds, and wild +turkeys. Yessum, wild turkeys is some sort of birds I reckon, but when +us talked about birds to eat us meant part'idges. Some folkses calls 'em +quails. De fishes us had in summertime was a sight to see. Us sho et +good dem days. Now us jus' eats what-some-ever us can git.</p> + +<p>"Summertime us jus' wore what us wanted to. Dresses was made wid full +skirts gathered on to tight fittin' waisties. Winter clothes was good +and warm; dresses made of yarn cloth made up jus' lak dem summertime +clothes, and petticoats and draw's made out of osnaburg. Chillun what +was big enough done de spinnin' and Aunt Betsey and Aunt Tinny, dey wove +most evvy night 'til dey rung de bell at 10:00 o'clock for us to go to +bed. Us made bolts and bolts of cloth evvy year.</p> + +<p>"Us went bar'foots in summer, but bless your sweet life us had good +shoes in winter and wore good stockin's too. It tuk three shoemakers for +our plantation. Dey was Uncle Isom, Uncle Jim, and Uncle Stafford. Dey +made up hole-stock shoes for de 'omans and gals and brass-toed brogans +for de mens and boys.</p> + +<p>"Us had pretty white dresses for Sunday. Marse Alec wanted evvybody on +his place dressed up dat day. He sont his houseboy, Uncle Harris, down +to de cabins evvy Sunday mornin' to tell evvy slave to clean hisself up. +Dey warn't never give no chance to forgit. Dere was a big old room sot +aside for a wash-room. Folkses laughs at me now 'cause I ain't never +stopped takin' a bath evvy Sunday mornin'.</p> + +<p>"Marse Lordnorth Stephens was de boss on Marse Alec's plantation. Course +Marse Alec owned us and he was our sho 'nough Marster. Neither one of +'em ever married. Marse Lordnorth was a good man, but he didn't have no +use for 'omans—he was a sissy. Dere warn't no Marster no whar no better +dan our Marse Alec Stephens, but he never stayed home enough to tend to +things hisself much 'cause he was all de time too busy on de outside. He +was de President or somepin of our side durin' de war.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Pierce went wid Marse Alec evvy whar he went. His dog, Rio, had +more sense dan most folkses. Marse Alec, he was all de time havin' big +mens visit him up at de big house. One time, out in de yard, him and one +of dem 'portant mens got in a argyment 'bout somepin. Us chillun snuck +up close to hear what dey was makin' such a rukus 'bout. I heared Marse +Alec say: 'I got more sense in my big toe dan you is got in your whole +body.' And he was right—he did have more sense dan most folkses. Ain't +I been a-tellin' you he was de President or somepin lak dat, dem days?</p> + +<p>"Ma, she was Marse Alec's cook and looked atter de house. Atter she died +Marse Lordnorth got Mrs. Mary Berry from Habersham County to keep house +at de big house, but Aunt 'Liza, she done de cookin' atter Miss Mary got +dar. Us little Niggers sho' did love Miss Mary. Us called her "Mammy +Mary" sometimes. Miss Mary had three sons and one of 'em was named Jeff +Davis. I 'members when dey come and got him and tuk him off to war. +Marse Lordnorth built a four-room house on de plantation for Miss Mary +and her boys. Evvybody loved our Miss Mary, 'cause she was so good and +sweet, and dere warn't nothin' us wouldn't have done for her.</p> + +<p>"No Lord! Marse Lordnorth never needed no overseer or no carriage driver +neither. Uncle Jim was de head man wat got de Niggers up evvy mornin' +and started 'em off to wuk right. De big house sho was a pretty place, +a-settin' up on a high hill. De squirrels was so tame dar dey jus' +played all 'round de yard. Marse Alec's dog is buried in dat yard.</p> + +<p>"No Mam, I never knowed how many acres dere was in de plantation us +lived on, and Marse Alec had other places too. He had land scattered +evvywhar. Lord, dere was a heap of Niggers on dat place, and all of us +was kin to one another. Grandma Becky and Grandpa Stafford was de fust +slaves Marse Alec ever had, and dey sho had a passel of chillun. One +thing sho Marse Lordnorth wouldn't keep no bright colored Nigger on dat +plantation if he could help it. Aunt Mary was a bright colored Nigger +and dey said dat Marse John, Marse Lordnorth's brother, was her Pa, but +anyhow Marse Lordnorth never had no use for her 'cause she was a bright +colored Nigger.</p> + +<p>"Marse Lordnorth never had no certain early time for his slaves to git +up nor no special late time for 'em to quit wuk. De hours dey wuked was +'cordin' to how much wuk was ahead to be done. Folks in Crawfordville +called us 'Stephens' Free Niggers.'</p> + +<p>"Us minded Marse Lordnorth—us had to do dat—but he let us do pretty +much as us pleased. Us never had no sorry piece of a Marster. He was a +good man and he made a sho 'nough good Marster. I never seed no Nigger +git a beatin', and what's more I never heared of nothin' lak dat on our +place. Dere was a jail in Crawfordville, but none of us Niggers on Marse +Alec's place warn't never put in it.</p> + +<p>"No Lord! None of us Niggers never knowed nothin' 'bout readin' and +writin'. Dere warn't no school for Niggers den, and I ain't never been +to school a day in my life. Niggers was more skeered of newspapers dan +dey is of snakes now, and us never knowed what a Bible was dem days.</p> + +<p>"Niggers never had no churches of deir own den. Dey went to de white +folkses' churches and sot in de gallery. One Sunday when me and my +sister Frances went to church I found 50¢ in Confederate money and +showed it to her. She tuk it away from me. Dat's de onliest money I seed +durin' slavery time. Course you knows dey throwed Confederate money away +for trash atter de war was over. Den us young chaps used to play wid it.</p> + +<p>"I never went to no baptizin's nor no funerals neither den. Funerals +warn't de style. When a Nigger died dem days, dey jus' put his body in a +box and buried it. I 'members very well when Aunt Sallie and Aunt +Catherine died, but I was little den, and I didn't take it in what dey +done bout buryin' 'em.</p> + +<p>"None of Marse Alec's slaves never run away to de North, 'cause he was +so good to 'em dey never wanted to leave him. De onliest Nigger what +left Marse Alec's place was Uncle Dave, and he wouldn't have left 'cept +he got in trouble wid a white 'oman. You needn't ax me her name 'cause I +ain't gwine to tell it, but I knows it well as I does my own name. +Anyhow Marse Alec give Uncle Dave some money and told him to leave, and +nobody never seed him no more atter dat.</p> + +<p>"Oh yessum! Us heared 'bout 'em, but none of us never seed no +patterollers on Marse Alec's plantation. He never 'lowed 'em on his +land, and he let 'em know dat he kept his slaves supplied wid passes +whenever dey wanted to go places so as dey could come and go when dey +got good and ready. Thursday and Sadday nights was de main nights dey +went off. Uncle Stafford's wife was Miss Mary Stephen's cook, Uncle +Jim's wife lived on de Finley place, and Uncle Isom's belonged to de +Hollises, so dey had regular passes all de time and no patterollers +never bothered 'em none.</p> + +<p>"Whenever Marse Alec or Marse Lordnorth wanted to send a message dey +jus' put George or Mack on a horse and sont 'em on but one thing sho, +dere warn't no slave knowed what was in dem letters.</p> + +<p>"Marse Alec sho had plenty of mules. Some of 'em was named: Pete, Clay, +Rollin, Jack, and Sal. Sal was Allen's slow mule, and he set a heap of +store by her. Dere was a heap more mules on dat place, but I can't call +back dere names right now.</p> + +<p>"Most times when slaves went to deir quarters at night, mens rested, but +sometimes dey holped de 'omans cyard de cotton and wool. Young folkses +frolicked, sung songs, and visited from cabin to cabin. When dey got +behind wid de field wuk, sometimes slaves wuked atter dinner Saddays, +but dat warn't often. But, Oh, dem Sadday nights! Dat was when slaves +got together and danced. George, he blowed de quills, and he sho could +blow grand dance music on 'em. Dem Niggers would jus' dance down. Dere +warn't no foolishment 'lowed atter 10:00 o'clock no night. Sundays dey +went to church and visited 'round, but folks didn't spend as much time +gaddin' 'bout lak dey does now days.</p> + +<p>"Christmas Day! Oh, what a time us Niggers did have dat day! Marse +Lordnorth and Marse Alec give us evvything you could name to eat: cake +of all kinds, fresh meat, lightbread, turkeys, chickens, ducks, geese, +and all kinds of wild game. Dere was allus plenty of pecans, apples, and +dried peaches too at Christmas. Marse Alec had some trees what had fruit +dat looked lak bananas on 'em, but I done forgot what was de name of dem +trees. Marse Alec would call de grown folkses to de big house early in +de mornin' and pass 'round a big pewter pitcher full of whiskey, den he +would put a little whiskey in dat same pitcher and fill it wid sweetened +water and give dat to us chillun. Us called dat 'toddy' or 'dram'. Marse +Alex allus had plenty of good whiskey, 'cause Uncle Willis made it up +for him and it was made jus' right. De night atter Christmas Day us +pulled syrup candy, drunk more liquor, and danced. Us had a big time for +a whole week and den on New Year's Day us done a little wuk jus' to +start de year right and us feasted dat day on fresh meat, plenty of +cake, and whiskey. Dere was allus a big pile of ash-roasted 'taters on +hand to go wid dat good old baked meat. Us allus tried to raise enough +'taters to last all through de winter 'cause Niggers sho does love dem +sweet 'taters. No Mam, us never knowed nothin' 'bout Santa Claus 'til +atter de war.</p> + +<p>"No Mam, dere warn't no special cornshuckin's and cotton pickin's on +Marse Alec's place, but of course dey did quilt in de winter 'cause dere +had to be lots of quiltin' done for all dem slaves to have plenty of +warm kivver, and you knows, Lady, 'omens can quilt better if dey gits a +passel of 'em together to do it. Marse Alec and Marse Lordnorth never +'lowed dere slaves to mix up wid other folkses business much.</p> + +<p>"Oh Lord! Us never played no games in slavery times, 'cept jus' to run +around in a ring and pat our hands. I never sung no songs 'cause I +warn't no singer, and don't talk 'bout no Raw Head and Bloody Bones or +nothin' lak dat. Dey used to skeer us chillun so bad 'bout dem sort of +things dat us used to lay in bed at night a-shakin' lak us was havin' +chills. I've seed plenty of ha'nts right here in Athens. Not long atter +I had left Crawfordville and moved to Athens, I had been in bed jus' a +little while one night, and was jus' dozin' off to sleep when I woke up +and sot right spang up in bed. I seed a white man, dressed in white, +standin' before me. I sho didn't say nothin' to him for I was too +skeered. De very last time I went to a dance, somepin got atter me and +skeered me so my hair riz up 'til I couldn't git my hat on my haid, and +dat cyored me of gwine to dances. I ain't never been to no more sich +doin's.</p> + +<p>"Old Marster was powerful good to his Niggers when dey got sick. He had +'em seed atter soon as it was 'ported to him dat dey was ailin'. Yessum, +dere warn't nothin' short 'bout our good Marsters, 'deed dere warn't! +Grandpa Stafford had a sore laig and Marse Lordnorth looked atter him +and had Uncle Jim dress dat pore old sore laig evvy day. Slaves didn't +git sick as often as Niggers does now days. Mammy Mary had all sorts of +teas made up for us, 'cordin' to whatever ailment us had. Boneset tea +was for colds. De fust thing dey allus done for sore throat was give us +tea made of red oak bark wid alum. Scurvy grass tea cleant us out in the +springtime, and dey made us wear little sacks of assfiddy (asafetida) +'round our necks to keep off lots of sorts of miseries. Some folkses +hung de left hind foot of a mole on a string 'round deir babies necks to +make 'em teethe easier. I never done nothin' lak dat to my babies 'cause +I never believed in no such foolishment. Some babies is jus' natchelly +gwine to teethe easier dan others anyhow.</p> + +<p>"I 'members jus' as good as if it was yesterday what Mammy Mary said +when she told us de fust news of freedom. 'You all is free now,' she +said. 'You don't none of you belong to Mister Lordnorth nor Mister Alec +no more, but I does hope you will all stay on wid 'em, 'cause dey will +allus be jus' as good to you as dey has done been in de past.' Me, I +warn't even studyin' nothin' 'bout leavin' Marse Alec, but Sarah Ann and +Aunt Mary, dey threwed down deir hoes and jus' whooped and hollered +'cause dey was so glad. When dem Yankees come to our place Mammy Mary +axed 'em if dey warn't tired of war. 'What does you know 'bout no war?' +Dey axed her right back. 'No, us won't never git tired of doin' good.'</p> + +<p>"I stayed on wid my two good Marsters 'til most 3 years atter de war, +and den went to wuk for Marse Tye Elder in Crawfordville. Atter dat I +wuked for Miss Puss King, and when she left Crawfordville I come on here +to Athens and wuked for Miss Tildy Upson on Prince Avenue. Den I went to +Atlanta to wuk for Miss Ruth Evage (probably Elliott). Miss Ruth was a +niece of Abraham Lincoln's. Her father was President Lincoln's brother +and he was a Methodist preacher what lived in Mailpack, New York. I went +evvywhar wid Miss Ruth. When me and Miss Ruth was in Philadelphia, I got +sick and she sont me home to Athens and I done been here wid my daughter +ever since.</p> + +<p>"Lawdy, Miss! I ain't never been married, but I did live wid Major Baker +18 years and us had five chillun. Dey is all daid but two. Niggers +didn't pay so much 'tention to gittin' married dem days as dey does now. +I stays here wid my gal, Ida Baker. My son lives in Cleveland, Ohio. My +fust child was borned when I warn't but 14 years old. De war ended in +April and she was borned in November of dat year. Now, Miss! I ain't +never told but one white 'oman who her Pa was, so you needn't start +axin' me nothin' 'bout dat. She had done been walkin' evvywhar 'fore she +died when she was jus' 10 months old and I'm a-tellin' you de truth +when I say she had more sense dan a heap of white chillun has when dey +is lots older dan she was. Whilst I was off in New York wid Miss Ruth, +Major, he up and got married. I reckon he's daid by now. I don't keer +nohow, atter de way he done me. I made a good livin' for Major 'til he +married again. I seed de 'oman he married once.</p> + +<p>"Yes Mam," there was strong emphasis in this reply. "I sho would ruther +have slavery days back if I could have my same good Marsters 'cause I +never had no hard times den lak I went through atter dey give us +freedom. I ain't never got over not bein' able to see Marse Alec no +more. I was livin' at Marse Tye Elder's when de gate fell on Marse Alec, +and he was crippled and lamed up from dat time on 'til he died. He got +to be Governor of Georgia whilst he was crippled. When he got hurt by +dat gate, smallpox was evvywhar and dey wouldn't let me go to see 'bout +him. Dat most killed me 'cause I did want to go see if dere was somepin' +I could do for him.</p> + +<p>"Lordy Mussy, Miss! I had a time jinin' up wid de church. I was in +Mailpack, New York, wid Miss Ruth when I had de urge to jine up. I told +Miss Ruth 'bout it and she said: 'Dere ain't no Baptist church in 10 +miles of here.' 'Lord, have mussy!' I said. 'Miss Ruth, what I gwine do? +Dese is all Methodist churches up here and I jus' can't jine up wid no +Methodists.' 'Yes you can,' she snapped at me, 'cause my own Pa's +a-holdin a 'vival in dis very town and de Methodist church is de best +anyhow.' Well, I went on and jined de Reverend Lincoln's Methodist +church, but I never felt right 'bout it. Den us went to Philadelphia and +soon as I could find a Baptist church dar, I jined up wid it. Northern +churches ain't lak our southern churches 'cause de black and white +folkses all belong to de same church dar and goes to church together. On +dat account I still didn't feel lak I had jined de church. Bless your +sweet life, Honey, when I come back to de South, I was quick as I could +be to jine up wid a good old southern Baptist church. I sho didn't mean +to live outdoors, 'specially atter I dies." Georgia's eyes sparkled and +her flow of speech was smooth as she told of her religious experiences. +When that subject was exhausted her eyes dimmed again and her speech +became less articulate.</p> + +<p>Georgia's reeking pipe had been laid aside for the watermelon and not +long after that was consumed the restless black fingers sought +occupation sewing gay pieces for a quilt. "Miss, I warn't born to be +lazy, I warn't raised dat way, and I sho ain't skeered to die.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Honey," said Georgia, as the interviewer arose and made her +way toward the street. "Hurry back and don't forgit to fetch me dat +purty pink dress you is a-wearin'. I don't lak white dresses and I ain't +never gwine to wear a black one nohow."</p> +<br> + +<p><b>[TR: Return Visit]</b></p> + +<p>Georgia was on the back porch washing her face and hands and quarrelling +with Ida for not having her breakfast ready at nine-thirty when the +interviewer arrived for a re-visit.</p> + +<p>"Come in," Georgia invited, "and have a cheer. But, Miss I done told you +all I knows 'bout Marse Alec and dem deys when I lived on his +plantation. You know chillun den warn't 'lowed to hang 'round de grown +folks whar dey could hear things what was talked about."</p> + +<p>About this time Ida came down from a second-floor kitchen with her +mother's breakfast. She was grumbling a little louder on each step of +the rickety stairway. "Lord, have mussy! Ma is still a-talkin' 'bout dat +old slavery stuff, and it ain't nothin' nohow." After Ida's eyes had +rested on the yellow crepe frock just presented Georgia in appreciation +of the three hours she had given for the first interview, she became +reconciled for the story to be resumed, and even offered her assistance +in rousing the recollections of her parent.</p> + +<p>"Did I tell you" Georgia began, "dat de man what looked atter Marse +Alec's business was his fust cousin? He was de Marse Lordnorth I'se all +time talkin' 'bout, and Marse John was Marse Lordnorth's brother. Dere +warn't no cook or house gal up at de big house but Ma 'til atter she +died, and den when Miss Mary Berry tuk charge of de house dey made +Uncle Harry and his wife, Aunt 'Liza, house boy and cook.</p> + +<p>"Marse Alec growed all his corn on his Googer Crick plantation. He +planned for evvything us needed and dere warn't but mighty little dat he +didn't have raised to take keer of our needs. Lordy, didn't I tell you +what sort of shoes, holestock shoes is? Dem was de shoes de 'omans wore +and dey had extra pieces on de sides so us wouldn't knock holes in 'em +too quick.</p> + +<p>"De fust time I ever seed Marse Alec to know who he was, I warn't more'n +6 years old. Uncle Stafford had went fishin' and cotched de nicest mess +of fish you ever seed. He cleant 'em and put 'em in a pan of water, and +told me to take 'em up to de big house to Marse Alec. I was skeered when +I went in de big house yard and axed, what looked lak a little boy, whar +Marse Alec was, and I was wuss skeered when he said: 'Dis is Marse Alec +you is talkin' to. What you want?' I tole him Uncle Stafford sont him de +fishes and he told me: 'Take 'em to de kitchen and tell 'Liza to cook +'em for me.' I sho ain't never gwine to forgit dat.</p> + +<p>"One day dey sont me wid a bucket of water to de field, and I had to go +through de peach orchard. I et so many peaches, I was 'most daid when I +got back to de house. Dey had to drench me down wid sweet milk, and from +dat day to dis I ain't never laked peaches. From den on Marse Alec +called me de 'peach gal.'</p> + +<p>"Marse Alec warn't home much of de time, but when he was dar he used to +walk down to de cabins and laugh and talk to his Niggers. He used to +sing a song for de slave chillun dat run somepin lak dis:</p> + +<pre> +'Walk light ladies + De cake's all dough, + You needn't mind de weather, + If de wind don't blow.'" +</pre> + +<p>Georgia giggled when she came to the end of the stanza. "Us didn't know +when he was a-singin' dat tune to us chillun dat when us growed up us +would be cake walkin' to de same song.</p> + +<p>"On Sundays, whenever Marse Alec was home, he done lots of readin' out +of a great big old book. I didn't know what it was, but he was pow'ful +busy wid it. He never had no parties or dancin' dat I knows 'bout, but +he was all time havin' dem big 'portant mens at his house talkin' 'bout +de business what tuk him off from home so much. I used to see Lawyer +Coombs dere heaps of times. He was a big, fine lookin' man. Another big +lawyer was all time comin' dar too, but I done lost his name. Marse Alec +had so awful much sense in his haid dat folkses said it stunted his +growin'. Anyhow, long as he lived he warn't no bigger dan a boy.</p> + +<p>"When Uncle Harry's and Aunt 'Liza's daughter what was named 'Liza, got +married he was in Washin'ton or some place lak dat. He writ word to +Marse Linton, his half-brother, to pervide a weddin' for her. I knows +'bout dat 'cause I et some of dat barbecue. Dat's all I 'members 'bout +her weddin'. I done forgot de name of de bridegroom. He lived on some +other plantation. Aunt 'Liza had two gals and one boy. He was named +Allen.</p> + +<p>"Whilst Marse Alec was President or somepin, he got sick and had to come +back home, and it wern't long atter dat 'fore de surrender. Allen was +'pinted to watch for de blue coats. When dey come to take Marse Alec +off, dey was all over the place wid deir guns. Us Niggers hollered and +cried and tuk on pow'ful 'cause us sho thought dey was gwine to kill him +on account of his bein' such a high up man on de side what dey was +fightin'. All de Niggers followed 'em to de depot when dey tuk Marse +Alec and Uncle Pierce away. Dey kept Marse Alec in prison off somewhar a +long time but dey sont Pierce back home 'fore long.</p> + +<p>"I seed Jeff Davis when dey brung him through Crawfordville on de train. +Dey had him all fastened up wid chains. Dey told me dat a Nigger 'oman +put pizen in Jeff Davis' somepin t'eat and dat was what kilt him. One +thing sho, our Marse Alec warn't pizened by nobody. He was comin' from +de field one day when a big old heavy gate fell down on him, and even if +he did live a long time atterwards dat was what was de cause of his +death.</p> + +<p>"I seed Uncle Pierce 'fore he died and us sot and talked and cried 'bout +Marse Alec. Yessum, us sho did have de best Marster in de world. If +ever a man went to Heaven, Marse Alec did. I sho does wish our good old +Marster was livin' now. Now, Miss, I done told you all I can ricollec' +'bout dem days. I thanks you a lot for dat purty yaller dress, and I +hopes you comes back to see me again sometime."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BattleAlice"></a> +<h3>ALICE BATTLE, EX-SLAVE<br> +Hawkinsville, Georgia<br> +<br> +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson—1936)<br> +[JUL 20, 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>During the 1840's, Emanuel Caldwell—born in North Carolina, and Neal +Anne Caldwell—born in South Carolina, were brought to Macon by +"speculators" and sold to Mr. Ed Marshal of Bibb County. Some time +thereafter, this couple married on Mr. Marshal's plantation, and their +second child, born about 1850, was Alice Battle. From her birth until +freedom, Alice was a chattel of this Mr. Marshal, whom she refers to as +a humane man, though inclined to use the whip when occasion demanded.</p> + +<p>Followed to its conclusion, Alice's life history is void of thrills and +simply an average ex-slave's story. As a slave, she was well fed, well +clothed, and well treated, as were her brother and sister slaves. Her +mother was a weaver, her father—a field hand, and she did both +housework and plantation labor.</p> + +<p>Alice saw the Yankee pass her ex-master's home with their famous +prisoner, Jeff Davis, after his capture, in '65. The Yankee band, says +she, was playing "We'll hang Jeff Davis on a Sour Apple Tree". Some of +the soldiers "took time out" to rob the Marshal smokehouse. The Whites +and Negroes were all badly frightened, but the "damyankees didn't harm +nobody".</p> + +<p>After freedom, Alice remained with the Marshals until Christmas, when +she moved away. Later, she and her family moved back to the Marshal +plantation for a few years. A few years still later, Alice married a +Battle "Nigger".</p> + +<p>Since the early '70's, Alice has "drifted around" quite a bit. She and +her husband are now too old and feeble to work. They live with one of +their sons, and are objects of charity.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BattleJasper"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +JASPER BATTLE, Age 80<br> +112 Berry St.,<br> +Athens, Ga.<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Grace McCune [HW: (White)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7</h3> +<br> + +<p>The shade of the large water oaks in Jasper's yard was a welcome sight +when the interviewer completed the long walk to the old Negro's place in +the sweltering heat of a sunny July afternoon. The old house appeared to +be in good condition and the yard was clean and tidy. Jasper's wife, +Lula, came around the side of the house in answer to the call for +Jasper. A large checked apron almost covered her blue dress and a clean +white headcloth concealed her hair. Despite her advanced age, she seemed +to be quite spry.</p> + +<p>"Jus' come back here whar I'se a-doin' de white folks' washin'," she +said. "Jasper's done been powerful sick and I can't leave him by hisself +none. I brung him out here in de shade so I could watch him and 'tend to +him whilst I wuks. Jasper stepped on a old plank what had two rusty +nails in it, and both of 'em went up in his foot a fur ways. I done driv +dem nails plumb up to dey haids in de north side of a tree and put +jimpson weed poultices on Jasper's foot, but it's still powerful bad +off."</p> + +<p>By this time we had arrived within sight and earshot of the old rocking +chair where Jasper sat with his foot propped high in another chair. His +chair had long ago been deprived of its rockers. The injured member +appeared to be swollen and was covered with several layers of the +jimpson weed leaves. The old man's thin form was clothed in a faded blue +shirt and old gray cotton trousers. His clothes were clean and his +white hair was in marked contrast to his shining but wrinkled black +face. He smiled when Lula explained the nature of the proposed +interview. "'Scuse me, Missy," he apologized, "for not gittin' up, +'cause I jus' can't use dis old foot much, but you jus' have a seat here +in de shade and rest yourself." Lula now excused herself, saying: "I +jus' got to hurry and git de white folks' clothes washed and dried 'fore +it rains," and she resumed her work in the shade of another huge tree +where a fire was burning brightly under her washpot and a row of +sud-filled tubs occupied a long bench.</p> + +<p>"Lula, she has to wuk all de time," Jasper explained, "and she don't +never have time to listen to me talk. I'se powerful glad somebody is +willin' to stop long enough to pay some heed whilst I talks 'bout +somepin. Dem days 'fore de war was good old days, 'specially for de +colored folks. I know, 'cause my Mammy done told me so. You see I was +mighty little and young when de war was over, but I heared de old folks +do lots of talkin' 'bout dem times whilst I was a-growin' up, and den +too, I stayed right dar on dat same place 'til I was 'bout grown. It was +Marse Henry Jones' plantation 'way off down in Taliaferro County, nigh +Crawfordville, Georgy. Mammy b'longed to Marse Henry. She was Harriet +Jones. Daddy was Simon Battle and his owner was Marse Billie Battle. De +Battle's plantation was off down dar nigh de Jones' place. When my Mammy +and Daddy got married Marse Henry wouldn't sell Mammy, and Marse Billie +wouldn't sell Daddy, so dey didn't git to see one another but twice a +week—dat was on Wednesday and Sadday nights—'til atter de war was done +over. I kin still 'member Daddy comin' over to Marse Henry's plantation +to see us.</p> + +<p>"Marse Henry kept a lot of slaves to wuk his big old plantation whar he +growed jus' evvything us needed to eat and wear 'cept sugar and coffee +and de brass toes for our home-made, brogan shoes. Dere allus was +a-plenty t'eat and wear on dat place.</p> + +<p>"Slave quarters was log cabins built in long rows. Some had chimblies in +de middle, twixt two rooms, but de most of 'em was jus' one-room cabins +wid a stick and mud chimbly at de end. Dem chimblies was awful bad 'bout +ketchin' on fire. Didn't nobody have no glass windows. Dey jus' had +plain plank shutters for blinds and de doors was made de same way, out +of rough planks. All de beds was home-made and de best of 'em was +corded. Dey made holes in de sides and foots and haidpieces, and run +heavy home-made cords in dem holes. Dey wove 'em crossways in and out of +dem holes from one side to another 'til dey had 'em ready to lay de +mattress mat on. I'se helped to pull dem cords tight many a time. Our +mattress ticks was made of homespun cloth and was stuffed wid wheat +straw. 'Fore de mattress tick was put on de bed a stiff mat wove out of +white oak splits was laid on top of de cords to pertect de mattress and +make it lay smooth. Us was 'lowed to pick up all de old dirty cotton +'round de place to make our pillows out of.</p> + +<p>"Jus' a few of de slave famblies was 'lowed to do deir own cookin' +'cause Marster kept cooks up at de big house what never had nothin' else +to do but cook for de white folks and slaves. De big old fireplace in +dat kitchen at de big house was more dan eight feet wide and you could +pile whole sticks of cord-wood on it. It had racks acrost to hang de +pots on and big ovens and little ovens and big, thick, iron fryin' pans +wid long handles and hefty iron lids. Dey could cook for a hunderd +people at one time in dat big old kitchen easy. At one time dere was +tables acrost one end of de kitchen for de slaves t'eat at, and de slave +chillun et dar too.</p> + +<p>"Marster was mighty good to slave chillun. He never sont us out to wuk +in de fields 'til us was 'most growed-up, say 12 or 14 years old. A +Nigger 12 or 14 years old dem days was big as a white child 17 or 18 +years old. Why Miss, Niggers growed so fast, dat most of de Nigger +nurses warn't no older dan de white chillun dey tuk keer of. Marster +said he warn't gwine to send no babies to de fields. When slave chillun +got to be 'bout 9 or 10 years old dey started 'em to fetchin' in wood +and water, cleanin' de yards, and drivin' up de cows at night. De +bigges' boys was 'lowed to measure out and fix de stock feed, but de +most of us chillun jus' played in de cricks and woods all de time. +Sometimes us played Injuns and made so much fuss dat old Aunt Nancy +would come out to de woods to see what was wrong, and den when she found +us was jus' a-havin' fun, she stropped us good for skeerin' her.</p> + +<p>"Mammy's job was to make all de cloth. Dat was what she done all de +time; jus' wove cloth. Some of de others cyarded de bats and spun +thread, but Mammy, she jus' wove on so reg'lar dat she made enough cloth +for clothes for all dem slaves on de plantation and, it's a fact, us did +have plenty of clothes. All de nigger babies wore dresses made jus' alak +for boys and gals. I was sho'ly mighty glad when dey 'lowed me to git +rid of dem dresses and wear shirts. I was 'bout 5 years old den, but dat +boys' shirt made me feel powerful mannish. Slave gals wore homespun +cotton dresses, and dey had plenty of dem dresses, so as dey could keep +nice and clean all de time. Dey knitted all de socks and stockin's for +winter. Dem gals wore shawls, and dere poke bonnets had ruffles 'round +'em. All de shoes was home-made too. Marster kept one man on de +plantation what didn't do nothin' but make shoes. Lordy, Missy! What +would gals say now if dey had to wear dem kind of clothes? Dey would +raise de roof plumb offen de house. But jus' let me tell you, a purty +young gal dressed in dem sort of clothes would look mighty sweet to me +right now.</p> + +<p>"Us never could eat all de meat in Marster's big old smokehouse. +Sometimes he tuk hams to de store and traded 'em for sugar and coffee. +Plenty of 'bacco was raised on dat plantation for all de white folks and +de growed-up Niggers. Slave chillun warn't sposen to have none, so us +had to swipe what 'bacco us got. If our Mammies found out 'bout us +gittin' 'bacco, dey stropped us 'til de skin was most off our backs, but +sometimes us got away wid a little. If us seed any of de old folks was +watchin' us, us slipped de 'bacco from one to another of us whilst dey +s'arched us, and it went mighty bad on us if dey found it.</p> + +<p>"Slaves went to de white folks' church and listened to de white +preachers. Dere warn't no colored preacher 'lowed to preach in dem +churches den. Dey preached to de white folks fust and den dey let de +colored folks come inside and hear some preachin' atter dey was through +wid de white folks. But on de big 'vival meetin' days dey 'lowed de +Niggers to come in and set in de gallery and listen at de same time dey +preached to de white folks. When de sermon was over dey had a big dinner +spread out on de grounds and dey had jus' evvything good t'eat lak +chickens, barbecued hogs and lambs, pies, and lots of watermelons. Us +kept de watermelons in de crick 'til dey was ready to cut 'em. A white +gentleman, what dey called Mr. Kilpatrick, done most of de preachin'. He +was from de White Plains neighborhood. He sho' did try mighty hard to +git evvybody to 'bey de Good Lord and keep his commandments.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Kilpatrick preached all de funerals too. It 'pears lak a heap more +folks is a-dyin' out dese days dan died den, and folks was a heap better +den to folks in trouble. Dey would go miles and miles den when dey +didn't have no auto'biles, to help folks what was in trouble. Now, dey +won't go next door when dere's death in de house. Den, when anybody died +de fust thing dey done was to shroud 'em and lay 'em out on de coolin' +board 'til Old Marster's cyarpenter could git de coffin made up. Dere +warn't no embalmers dem days and us had to bury folks de next day atter +dey died. De coffins was jus' de same for white folks and deir slaves. +On evvy plantation dere was a piece of ground fenced in for a graveyard +whar dey buried white folks and slaves too. My old Daddy is buried down +yonder on Marse Henry's plantation right now.</p> + +<p>"When a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal, he didn't ax de gal, +but he went and told Marster 'bout it. Marster would talk to de gal and +if she was willin', den Marster would tell all de other Niggers us was +a-goin' to have a weddin'. Dey would all come up to de big house and +Marster would tell de couple to jine hands and jump backwards over a +broomstick, and den he pernounced 'em man and wife. Dey didn't have to +have no licenses or nothin' lak dey does now. If a man married up wid +somebody on another place, he had to git a pass from his Marster, so as +he could go see his wife evvy Wednesday and Sadday nights. When de +patterollers cotched slaves out widout no passes, dey evermore did beat +'em up. Leastways dat's what Mammy told me.</p> + +<p>"Durin' de big war all de white folkses was off a-fightin' 'cept dem +what was too old to fight or what was too bad crippled and 'flicted. Dey +stayed home and looked atter de 'omans and chillun. Somebody sont +Mist'ess word dat dem yankees was on de way to our plantation and she +hid evvything she could, den had de hogs and hosses driv off to de +swamps and hid. Mammy was crazy 'bout a pet pig what Marster had done +give her, so Mist'ess told her to go on down to dat swamp quick, and +hide dat little pig. Jus' as she was a-runnin' back in de yard, dem +yankees rid in and she seed 'em a-laughin' fit to kill. She looked +'round to see what dey was tickled 'bout and dere followin' her lak a +baby was dat pig. Dem yankees was perlite lak, and dey never bothered +nothin' on our place, but dey jus' plumb ruint evvything on some of de +plantations right close to our'n. Dey tuk nigh evvything some of our +neighbors had t'eat, most all deir good hosses, and anything else dey +wanted. Us never did know why dey never bothered our white folkses' +things.</p> + +<p>"When dey give us our freedom us went right on over to Marse Billie +Battle's place and stayed dar wid Daddy 'bout a year; den Daddy come wid +us back to Marse Henry's, and dar us stayed 'til Old Marster died. Long +as he lived atter de war, he wukked most of his help on sheers, and seed +dat us was tuk keer of jus' lak he had done when us all b'longed to him. +Us never went to school much 'cause Mammy said white folks didn't lak +for Niggers to have no larnin', but atter de war was done over our Old +Mist'ess let colored chillun have some lessons in a little cabin what +was built in de back yard for de white chillun to go to school in.</p> + +<p>"Atter dey buried our Old Marster, us moved down to Hancock County and +farmed dar, 'cause dat was all us knowed how to do. Us got together and +raised money to buy ground enough for a churchyard and a graveyard for +colored folks. Dat graveyard filled up so fast dat dey had to buy more +land several times. Us holped 'em build de fust colored church in +Hancock County.</p> + +<p>"School for colored chillun was held den in our church house. Our +teacher was a white man, Mr. Tom Andrews, and he was a mighty good +teacher, but Lordy, how strick he was! Dese here chillun don't know +nothin' 'bout school. Us went early in de mornin', tuk our dinner in a +bucket, and never left 'til four o'clock, and sometimes dat was 'most +nigh sundown. All day us studied dat blue back speller, and dat white +teacher of ours sho' tuk de skin offen our backs if us didn't mind him. +Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' and foolin' 'round on de way home, +'cause dat white teacher 'lowed he had control of us 'til us got to our +Mammies' doors and if us didn't git for home in a hurry, it was jus' too +bad for us when he tuk it out on us next day wid dat long hick'ry +switch.</p> + +<p>"Things is sho' diffunt now. Folks ain't good now as dey was den, but +dere is gwine to be a change. I may not be here to see it, but it's +a-comin' 'cause de Good Lord is done 'sied (prophesied) it, and it's got +to be. God's sayin' is comin' to pass jus' as sho' as us is livin' and +settin' in de shade of dis here tree.</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Miss! How come you axes 'bout colored folks'es weddin's? I was +a-courtin' a little 14-year old gal named Lovie Williams, but her Mammy +runned me off and said she warn't gwine to let Lovie git married up wid +nobody 'til she got big enough. I jus' bought dem licenses and watched +for my chanct and den I stole dat gal right from under her Mammy's eyes. +My Mammy knowed all 'bout it and holped us git away. Us didn't have no +time for no weddin'. De best us could do was jus' to git ourselfs +married up. Lovie's Mammy raised de Old Ned, but us didn't keer den, +'cause it was too late for her to do nothin' to part us. Lovie was one +of the bestest gals what ever lived. Us raised 12 chillun and I never +had one speck of trouble wid her. Lovie's done been daid 15 years now."</p> + +<p>His voice trembled as he talked about his first wife, and Lula almost +stopped her work to listen. This kind of talk did not please her and her +expression grew stern. "You done talked a-plenty," she told him. "You +ain't strong 'nough to do no more talkin'," but Jasper was not willing +to be silenced. "I reckon I knows when I'se tired. I ain't gwine to hush +'til I gits good and ready," was his protest. "Yes Missy," he continued. +"All our chillun is done daid now 'cept four and dey is 'way off up +North. Ain't nobody left here 'cept me and Lula. Lula is pow'ful good to +me. I done got too old to wuk, and can't do nothin' nohow wid dis old +foot so bad off. I'se ready and even anxious to go when de Good Lord +calls for old Jasper to come to de Heav'nly Home.</p> + +<p>"I ain't heared nothin' from my only brother in over 7 years. I 'spose +he still lives in Crawfordville. Missy, I wishes I could go back down to +Crawfordville one more time. I kin jus' see our old homeplace on de +plantation down dar now. Lula a-washin' here, makes me study 'bout de +old washplace on Marse Henry's plantation. Dere was a long bench full of +old wood tubs, and a great big iron pot for bilin' de clothes, and de +batten block and stick. Chillun beat de clothes wid de batten stick and +kept up de fire 'round de pot whilst de 'omans leaned over de tubs +washin' and a-singin' dem old songs. You could hear 'em 'most a mile +away. Now and den one of de 'omans would stop singin' long enough to +yell at de chillun to 'git more wood on dat fire 'fore I lash de skin +offen your back.'</p> + +<p>"Oh Missy, dem was good old days. Us would be lucky to have 'em back +again, 'specially when harvest time comes 'round. You could hear Niggers +a-singin' in de fields 'cause dey didn't have no worries lak dey got +now. When us got de corn up from de fields, Niggers come from far and +nigh to Marster's cornshuckin'. Dat cornshuckin' wuk was easy wid +evvybody singin' and havin' a good time together whilst dey made dem +shucks fly. De cornshuckin' captain led all de singin' and he set right +up on top of de highes' pile of corn. De chillun was kept busy a-passin' +de liquor jug 'round. Atter it started gittin' dark, Marster had big +bonfires built up and plenty of torches set 'round so as dere would be +plenty of light. Atter dey et all dey wanted of dem good things what had +done been cooked up for de big supper, den de wrastlin' matches started, +and Marster allus give prizes to de best wrastlers. Dere warn't no +fussin' and fightin' 'lowed on our place, and dem wrastlin' matches was +all in good humor and was kept orderly. Marster wanted evvybody to be +friends on our plantation and to stay dat way, for says he: 'De Blessed +Saviour done said for us to love our neighbor as ourselfs, and to give +and what us gives is gwine to come back to us.' Missy, de Good Lord's +word is always right."</p> + +<p>The interviewer was preparing to leave when one of Jasper's old friends +approached the sheltering tree in the yard, where the interview was +drawing to a close. "Brudder Paul," said Jasper, "I wisht you had come +sooner 'cause Missy, here, and me is done had de bestes' time a-goin' +back over dem old times when folks loved one another better dan dey does +now. Good-bye Missy, you done been mighty kind and patient wid old +Jasper. Come back again some time."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BinnsArrie"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. --<br> +Ex-Slv. #10]<br> +<br> +ARRIE BINNS OF WASHINGTON-WILKES<br> +<br> +by<br> +Minnie Branham Stonestreet<br> +Washington-Wilkes<br> +Georgia<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Arrie Binns lives in Baltimore, a negro suburb of Washington-Wilkes, in +a little old tumbled down kind of a cottage that used to be one of the +neatest and best houses of the settlement and where she has lived for +the past sixty-odd years. In the yard of her home is one of the most +beautiful holly trees to be found anywhere. She set it there herself +over fifty years ago. She recalled how her friends predicted bad luck +would befall her because she "sot out er holly", but not being in the +least bit superstitious she paid them "no mind" and has enjoyed her +beautiful tree all these years. Many lovely oaks are around her house; +she set them there long ago when she was young and with her husband +moved into their new home and wanted to make it as attractive as +possible. She is all alone now. Her husband died some years ago and +three of her four children have passed on. Her "preacher son" who was +her delight, died not very long ago. All this sorrow has left Aunt Arrie +old and sad; her face is no longer lighted by the smile it used to know. +She is a tiny little scrap of a woman with the softest voice and is as +neat as can be. She wears an oldfashioned apron all the time and in cool +weather there is always a little black cape around her frail shoulders +and held together with a plain old gold "breastpin".</p> + +<p>She was born in Lincoln County (Georgia), her mother was Emeline Sybert +and her father Jordan Sybert. They belonged to Mr. Jones Sybert and his +wife "Miss Peggy". After freedom they changed their surname to Gullatt +as they liked that better. Arrie was among the oldest of nine children. +The night she was born the stork brought a little baby girl to the home +of a white family just across the creek from the Syberts. The little +white girl was named Arine so "Miss Peggy" named the little new black +baby girl Arrie, and that is how it happened she was given such an odd +name.</p> + +<p>Arrie said she was "15 or 16 years old when the war broke (1865), I wuz +big enough to be lookin' at boys an' dey lookin' at me." She remembers +the days of war, how when the battle of Atlanta was raging they heard +the distant rumble of cannon, and how "upsot" they all were. Her master +died of "the consumption" during the war. She recalls how hard it was +after his death. The Syberts had no children and there was no one to +turn to after his death. Arrie tells of her Master's illness, how she +was the housemaid and was called upon to fan him and how she would get +so tired and sleepy she would nod a little, the fan dropping from hands +into his face. He would take it up and "crack my haid with the handle to +wake me up. I wuz allus so sorry when I done that, but I jest had ter +nod."</p> + +<p>She told about how bad the overseers were and the trouble they gave +until finally "old Miss turned off ther one she had an' put my Pa in his +place to manage things and look after the work." Arrie was never +punished, (not any more than having her head cracked by her Master when +she nodded while fanning him.) "No mam, not none of our niggers wuz +whipped. Why I recollect once, my brother wuz out without a pass an' de +patter rollers kotch him and brung him to old Miss and said he'd have +ter be whipped, old Miss got so mad she didn't know what ter do, she +said nobody wuz a goin' ter whip her niggers, but the patter roller men +'sisted so she said after er while, 'Well, but I'm goin' ter stan' right +here an' when I say stop, yer got ter stop', an' they 'greed to dat, an' +the third time dey hit him she raised her han' an' said 'STOP' an' dey +had ter let my brother go. My Miss wuz a big 'oman, she'd weigh nigh on +ter three hundred pound, I 'spect."</p> + +<p>After her master's death Arrie had to go into the field to work. She +recalled with a little chuckle, the old cream horse, "Toby" she use to +plow. She loved Toby, she said, and they did good work. When not plowing +she said she "picked er round in the fields" doing whatever she could. +She and the other slaves were not required to do very hard work. Her +mother was a field hand, but in the evenings she spun and wove down in +their cabin. Aunt Arrie added "an' I did love to hear that old spinnin' +wheel. It made a low kind of a whirring sound that made me sleepy." She +said her mother, with all the other negro women on the place, had "a +task of spinnin' a spool at night", and they spun and wove on rainy days +too. "Ma made our clothes an' we had pretty dresses too. She dyed some +blue and brown striped. We growed the indigo she used fer the blue, +right dar on the plantation, and she used bark and leaves to make the +tan and brown colors."</p> + +<p>Aunt Arrie said the Doctor was always called in when they were sick, +"but we never sont fer him lesse'n somebody wuz real sick. De old folks +doctored us jest fer little ailments. Dey give us lye tea fer colds. +(This was made by taking a few clean ashes from the fire place, putting +them in a little thin bag and pouring boiling water over them and let +set for a few minutes. This had to be given very weak or else it would +be harmful, Aunt Arrie explained.) Garlic and whiskey, and den, dar +ain't nothin' better fer the pneumony dan splinter tea. I've cured bad +cases with it." (That is made by pouring boiling water over lightwood +splinters.)</p> + +<p>Aunt Arrie told of their life on the plantation and it was not unlike +that of other slaves who had good masters who looked after them. They +had plenty to eat and to wear. Their food was given them and they cooked +and ate their meals in the cabins in family groups. Santa Claus always +found his way to the Quarters and brought them stick candy and other +things to eat. She said for their Christmas dinner there was always a +big fat hen and a hog head.</p> + +<p>In slavery days the negroes had quiltings, dances, picnics and everybody +had a good time, Aunt Arrie said, "an' I kin dance yit when I hears a +fiddle." They had their work to do in the week days, but when Sundays +came there was no work, everybody rested and on "preachin' days" went to +Church. Her father took them all to old Rehoboth, the neighborhood white +church, and they worshiped together, white and black, the negroes in the +gallery. That was back in the days when there was "no lookin' neither +to the right nor to the left" when in church; no matter what happened, +no one could even half way smile. This all was much harder than having +to listen to the long tiresome sermons of those days, Arrie thinks, +specially when she recalled on one occasion "when Mr. Sutton wuz a +preachin' a old goat [HW: got] up under the Church an' every time Mr. +Sutton would say something out real loud that old goat would go 'Bah-a-a +Bah ba-a-a' an' we couldn't laugh a bit. I most busted, I wanted ter +laugh so bad."</p> + +<p>"Yassum, in dem days" continued Aunt Arrie, "all us colored folks went +to the white folks church kase us didn't have no churches of our own and +day want no colored preachers den, but some what wuz called +"Chairbacks". The Chairback fellows went er round preachin' an' singin' +in the cabins down in the Quarters and dey use ter have the bes' +meetin's, folks would be converted an' change dey way. De hymns dey sung +de most wuz "Amazin' Grace" an' "Am I Born ter Die?" I 'members de +meetin's us use ter have down in our cabin an' how everybody would pray +an' sing."</p> + +<p>"Dey ain't nothin' lak it use ter be," sighed Aunt Arrie, "Now when I +first could recollect, when a nigger died they sot up with de corpse all +night and de next day had de funeral an' when dey started to the burial +ground with the body every body in the whole procession would sing +hymns. I've heard 'em 'nough times clear 'cross the fields, singin' and +moanin' as they went. Dem days of real feelin' an' keerin' is gone."</p> + +<p>When freedom came there were sad times on the Sybert plantation, Arrie +said. "Old Miss cried and cried, and all us cried too. Old Miss said +'You'al jest goin' off to perish.' Aunt Jennie, one of the oldest women +slaves stayed on with her and took keer of her, but all us stayed on a +while. Us didn't know whar to go an' what ter do, an' den come Dr. +Peters and Mr. Allen frum Arkansas to git han's to go out dar an' work +fer dem. My Pa took his family and we stayed two years. It took us might +nigh ar whole week to git dar, we went part way on de train and den rid +de steam boat up de Mississippi River ter de landin'. We worked in the +cotton field out dar and done all kinds er work on de farm, but us +didn't like an' Dr. Peters an' Mr. Allen give my Pa money fer us ter +come home on. 'Fore we could git started my oldest brother wanted to +come home so bad he jest pitched out and walked all de way frum Arkansas +to our old home in Georgy. We come back by Memphis and den come on home +on de train. When we wuz out dar I went to school an' got as far as +'Baker'. Dat's de only schoolin' I ever had."</p> + +<p>Aunt Arrie told about her courtship and marriage, she remembers all +about it and grew rather sentimental and sad while she talked. She said +that Franklin Binns was going with her before she went to live in +Arkansas and when she came home he picked up the courtship where he had +left off when she went away. He would ride 20 miles on horseback to see +her. He brought her candy and nice things to eat, but she still wouldn't +"give him no satisfaction 'bout whether she keered fer him er not." She +said other men wanted to come to see her, but she paid them not one bit +of attention. "No mam, I wouldn't 'cept of them, I never did go with in +an' everybody, I don't do dat yit." She said one day Franklin was to see +her and said "Less us marry, I think 'nough of you to marry." She said +she wouldn't tell him nothin' so he went to see her parents and they +agreed, so she married him sometime later. They were married by a white +minister, Mr. Joe Carter.</p> + +<p>Aunt Arrie leads a lonely life now. She grieves for her loved ones more +than negroes usually do. She doesn't get about much, but "I does go over +to see Sis Lou (a neighbor) every now an' den fer consolation." She says +she is living on borrowed time because she has always taken care of +herself and worked and been honest. She said that now she is almost at +the close of her life waiting day by day for the call to come, she is +glad she knew slavery, glad she was reared by good white people who +taught her the right way to live, and she added: "Mistess, I'se so glad +I allus worked hard an' been honest—hit has sho paid me time an' time +agin."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BlandHenry"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br> +ExSlv. #7<br> +Driskell]<br> +<br> +HENRY BLAND—EX-SLAVE<br> +[MAY -- --]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Henry Bland is one of the few living ex-slaves who was born on a +plantation near Edenton, Ga., in 1851. His parents were Martha and Sam +Coxton. In this family group were three other children, two girls and +one boy, who was the oldest. When questioned regarding the birthplace +and the movements of his parents, Mr. Bland stated that his father was +born in Hancock County, Ga. His mother along with her mother was brought +to Georgia by the speculator with a drove of other slaves. The first +thing that he remembers of his parents is when he was quite small and +was allowed to remain in the Master's kitchen in the "big house" where +his mother was cook.</p> + +<p>Mr. Coxton, who was the owner of Mr. Bland and his family, was described +as being very rich and influential man in the community where he lived. +Says Mr. Bland, "His only fault was that of drinking too much of the +whisky that he distilled on the plantation." Unlike some of the other +slave owners in that section, Mr. Coxton was very kind to his slaves. +His plantation was a large one and on it was raised cotton, corn, +cane[TR:?], vegetables, and live stock. More cotton was grown than +anything else.</p> + +<p>From the time he was 1 year and 6 months of age until he was 9 years old +he lived in the "big house" with his mother. At night he slept on the +floor there. In spite of this, his and his mother's treatment was +considerably better than that received by those slaves who worked in the +fields. While their food consisted of the same things as did that of the +field slaves, sometimes choice morsels came back to the kitchen from the +Master's table. He says that his mother's clothes were of better quality +than the other slave women (those who were not employed in the house).</p> + +<p>As a child his first job was to cut wood for the stove, pick up chips, +and to drive the cows to and from the pasture. When 9 years old he was +sent to the field as a plow boy. Here he worked with a large number of +other slaves (he does not know the exact number) who were divided into +two groups, the plow group and the hoe group. His father happened to be +the foreman of the hoe gang. His brothers and sisters also worked here +in the fields being required to hoe as well as plow. When picking time +came, everyone was required to pick. The usual amount of cotton each +person was required to pick was 200 lbs. per day. However, when this +amount was not picked by some they were not punished by the overseer, as +was the case on neighboring plantations, because Mr. Coxton realized +that some could do more work than others. Mr. Coxton often told his +overseer that he had not been hired to whip the slaves, but to teach +them how to work.</p> + +<p>Says Mr. Bland: "Our working hours were the same as on any other +plantation. We had to get up every morning before sun-up and when it was +good and light we were in the field. A bugle was blown to wake us." All +the slaves stayed in the field until dark. After leaving the field they +were never required to do any work but could spend their time as they +saw fit to. No work was required on Saturday or Sunday with the +exception that the stock had to be cared for. Besides those days when no +work was required, there was the 4th of July and Christmas on which the +slaves were permitted to do as they pleased. These two latter dates were +usually spent in true holiday spirit as the master usually gave a big +feast in the form of a barbecue and allowed them to invite their +friends.</p> + +<p>When darkness came they sang and danced and this was what they called a +"frolic." As a general rule this same thing was permitted after the +crops had been gathered. Music for these occasions was furnished by +violin, banjo and a clapping of hands. Mr. Bland says that he used to +help furnish this music as Mr. Coxton had bought him a violin.</p> + +<p>On the Coxton plantation all slaves always had a sufficient amount of +clothing. These clothes which were issued when needed and not at any +certain time included articles for Sunday wear as well as articles for +work. Those servants who worked in the "big house" wore practically the +same clothes as the master and his wife with the possible exception that +it met the qualification of being second-handed. An issue of work +clothing included a heavy pair of work shoes called brogans, homespun +shirts and a pair of jeans pants. A pair of knitted socks was also +included The women wore homespun dresses for their working clothes. For +Sunday wear the men were given white cotton shirts and the women white +cotton dresses. All clothing was made on the plantation by those women +who were too old for field work.</p> + +<p>In the same manner that clothing was sufficient, so was food plentiful. +At the end of each week each family was given 4 lbs. of meat, 1 peck of +meal, and some syrup. Each person in a family was allowed to raise a +garden and so they had vegetables whenever they wished to. In addition +to this they were allowed to raise chickens, to hunt and to fish. +However, none of the food that was secured in any of the ways mentioned +above could be sold. When anyone wished to hunt, Mr. Coxton supplied the +gun and the shot.</p> + +<p>Although the slaves cooked for themselves, their breakfast and dinner +were usually sent to them in the fields after it had been prepared in +the cook house. The reason for this was that they had to get up too soon +in the morning, and at noon too much time would be lost if they were +permitted to go to their cabins for lunch.</p> + +<p>The children who were too young to work in the field were cared for by +some old slave who likewise was unable to do field work. The children +were usually fed pot liquor, corn bread, milk, syrup, and vegetables. +Each one had his individual cup to eat from. The food on Sunday was +usually no different from that of any other day of the week. However, +Mr. Bland says that they never had to break in the smokehouse because of +hunger.</p> + +<p>When asked to describe the living quarters of the slaves on his +plantation he looked around his room and muttered: "Dey wuz a lot better +than dis one." Some of the cabins were made of logs and some of +weatherboards. The chinks in the walls were sealed with mud. In some +instances boards were used on the inside to keep the weather out. There +were usually two windows, shutters being used in the place of window +panes. The chimney and fireplace were made of mud and stones. All +cooking was done at the fireplace as none of them were provided with +stoves. Iron cooking utensils were used. To boil food a pot was hung +over the fire by means of a hook. The remaining furniture was a bench +which served as a chair, and a crude bed. Rope running from side to side +served as bed springs. The mattress was made of straw or hay. For +lighting purposes, pine knots and candles were used. The slaves on the +Coxton plantation were also fortunate in that all cabins had good +floors. All cabins and their furnishings were built by the slaves who +learned the use of hammer and saw from white artisans whom Mr. Coxton +employed from time to time. Mr. Bland remarked that his father was a +blacksmith, having learned the trade in this manner.</p> + +<p>A doctor was employed regularly by Mr. Coxton to minister to the needs +of the slaves in time of illness. "We also had our own medicine," says +Mr. Bland. At different times excursions were made to the woods where +"yarbs" (herbs) were gathered. Various kinds of teas and medicines were +made by boiling these roots in water. The usual causes of illness on +this plantation were colds, fevers, and constipation. Castor oil and +salts were also used to a great extent. If an individual was too ill to +work an older slave had to nurse this person.</p> + +<p>No effort was made by Mr. Coxton to teach his slaves anything except +manual training. A slave who could use his hands at skilled work was +more valuable than the ordinary field hand. If, however, a slave secured +a book, Mr. Coxton would help him learn to read it. Above all, religious +training was not denied. As a matter of fact, Mr. Coxton required each +one of his servants to dress in his Sunday clothes and to go to church +every Sunday. Services for all were held at the white church—the slaves +sitting on one side and the masters on the other. All preaching was done +by a white pastor.</p> + +<p>No promiscuous relationships were allowed. If a man wanted to marry he +merely pointed out the woman of his choice to the master. He in turn +called her and told her that such and such an individual wished her for +a wife. If she agreed they were pronounced man and wife and were +permitted to live together.</p> + +<p>The slaves on his plantation were great believers in roots and their +values in the use of conjuring people.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bland doesn't remember ever seeing anyone sold by Mr. Coxton, but he +heard that on other nearby plantations slaves were placed on an auction +block and sold like cattle.</p> + +<p>None of the slaves were ever whipped or beaten by Mr. Coxton or by +anyone else. If a rule was broken the offender was called before Mr. +Coxton where he was talked to. In some cases a whipping was promised and +that ended the matter. The "Paddie Rollers" whipped the slaves from +other plantations when they were caught off of their premises without a +"pass" but this was never the case when a slave belonging to Mr. Coxton +broke this rule. Mr. Bland remembers that once he and some of his fellow +slaves were away from home without a pass when they were seen by the +"Paddie Rollers" who started after them. When they were recognized as +belonging to Mr. Coxton one of them (Paddie Rollers) said: "Don't bother +them; that's them d---- 'free niggers'." The Paddie Rollers were not +allowed to come on the Coxton plantation to whip his slaves or any other +owner's slaves who happened to be visiting at the time. Mr. Coxton +required that they all be on the plantation by nightfall.</p> + +<p>(The above seems to be rather conclusive proof of Mr. Coxton's influence +in the community.) [TR: Parentheses added by hand.]</p> + +<p>Whenever a slave committed a crime against the State, his master usually +had to pay for the damage done or pay the slave's fine. It was then up +to him to see that the offender was punished.</p> + +<p>Mr. Coxton once saw him (Mr. Bland) beat another slave (who was a guest +at a frolic) when this visitor attempted to draw a pistol on him. Mr. +Bland was upheld in his action and told by Mr. Coxton that he had better +always fight back when anyone struck him, whether the person was white +or black. Further, if he (Mr. Coxton) heard of his not fighting back a +whipping would be in store for him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Coxton was different from some of the slave owners in that he gave +the head of each family spending money at Christmas time—the amount +varying with the size of the family.</p> + +<p>"When the Civil war was begun the master seemed to be worried all the +time" states Mr. Bland. "He was afraid that we would be freed and then +he would have to hire us to do his work."</p> + +<p>When asked to describe his feelings about the war and the possibility of +his being freed, Mr. Bland said that he had no particular feeling of +gladness at all. The outcome of the war did not interest him at all +because Mr. Coxton was such a good master he didn't care whether he was +freed or not. His fellow slaves felt the same way.</p> + +<p>When Sherman and the Yankees were marching through they took all of the +live stock but bothered nothing else. The buildings on the adjoining +plantation were all burned. A small skirmish took place about 2 miles +away from Mr. Coxton's plantation when the Yankees and Confederates met. +Mr. Coxton's two sons took part in the war.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bland was taken by Sherman's army to Savannah and then to Macon. He +says that he saw President Jeff Davis give up his sword to General +Sherman in surrender.</p> + +<p>After the war Mr. Coxton was still well off in spite of the fact that he +had lost quite a bit of money as a result of the war. He saved a great +deal of his cash by burying it when Sherman came through. The cattle +might have been saved if he (Mr. Bland) could have driven them into the +woods before he was seen by some of the soldiers.</p> + +<p>At the close of the war Mr. Coxton informed all the slaves that they +were free to go where they wished, but they all refused to leave. Most +of them died on the plantation. Mr. Bland says that when he became of +age his former master gave him a wagon, two mules, a horse and buggy and +ten pigs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bland thinks that old age is a characteristic in his family. His +grandmother lived to be 115 years old and his mother 107 years old. +Although in his 80's, Mr. Bland is an almost perfect picture of health. +He thinks that he will live to become at least 100 years old because he +is going to continue to live as sane a life as he has in the past.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BodyRias"></a> +<h3>J.R. Jones<br> +<br> +RIAS BODY, Ex-Slave.<br> +Place of birth: Harris County, near Waverly Hall, Georgia<br> +Date of birth: April 9, 1846<br> +Present residence: 1419-24th Street, Columbus, Georgia<br> +Interviewed: July 24, 1936<br> +[JUL 8, 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Rias Body was born the slave property of Mr. Ben Body, a Harris County +planter. He states that he was about fifteen years old when the Civil +War started and, many years ago, his old time white folks told him that +April 9, 1846, was the date of his birth.</p> + +<p>The "patarolers," according to "Uncle" Rias, were always quite active in +ante-bellum days. The regular patrol consisted of six men who rode +nightly, different planters and overseers taking turns about to do +patrol duty in each militia district in the County.</p> + +<p>All slaves were required to procure passes from their owners or their +plantation overseers before they could go visiting or leave their home +premises. If the "patarolers" caught a "Nigger" without a pass, they +whipped him and sent him home. Sometimes, however, if the "Nigger" +didn't run and told a straight story, he was let off with a lecture and +a warning. Slave children, though early taught to make themselves +useful, had lots of time for playing and frolicking with the white +children.</p> + +<p>Rias was a great hand to go seining with a certain clique of white boys, +who always gave him a generous or better than equal share of the fish +caught.</p> + +<p>At Christmas, every slave on the Body plantation received a present. The +Negro children received candy, raisins and "nigger-toes", balls, +marbles, etc.</p> + +<p>As for food, the slaves had, with the exception of "fancy trimmins", +about the same food that the whites ate. No darky in Harris County that +he ever heard of ever went hungry or suffered for clothes until after +freedom.</p> + +<p>Every Saturday was a wash day. The clothes and bed linen of all Whites +and Blacks went into wash every Saturday. And "Niggers", whether they +liked it or not, had to "scrub" themselves every Saturday night.</p> + +<p>The usual laundry and toilet soap was a homemade lye product, some of it +a soft-solid, and some as liquid as water. The latter was stored in jugs +and demijohns. Either would "fetch the dirt, or take the hide off"; in +short, when applied "with rag and water, something had to come".</p> + +<p>Many of the Body slaves had wives and husbands living on other +plantations and belonging to other planters. As a courtesy to the +principals of such matrimonial alliances, their owners furnished the +men passes permitting them to visit their wives once or twice a week. +Children born to such unions were the property of the wife's owner; the +father's owner had no claim to them whatsoever.</p> + +<p>"Uncle" Rias used to frequently come to Columbus with his master before +the war, where he often saw "Niggers oxioned off" at the old slave mart +which was located at what is now 1225 Broadway. Negroes to be offered +for sale were driven to Columbus in droves—like cattle—by "Nawthon +speckulatahs". And prospective buyers would visit the "block" +accompanied by doctors, who would feel of, thump, and examine the +"Nigger" to see if sound. A young or middle-aged Negro man, specially or +even well trained in some trade or out-of-the-ordinary line of work, +often sold for from $2000.00 to $4000.00 in gold. Women and "runty +Nigger men" commanded a price of from $600.00 up, each. A good "breedin +oman", though, says "Uncle" Rias, would sometimes sell for as high as +$1200.00.</p> + +<p>Rias Body had twelve brothers, eight of whom were "big buck Niggers," +and older than himself. The planters and "patarolers" accorded these +"big Niggers" unusual privileges—to the end that he estimates that they +"wuz de daddies uv least a hunnert head o' chillun in Harris County +before de war broke out." Some of these children were "scattered" over a +wide area.</p> + +<p>Sin, according to Rias Body, who voices the sentiment of the great +majority of aged Negroes, is that, or everything, which one does and +says "not in the name of the Master". The holy command, "Whatever ye do, +do it in My name," is subjected to some very unorthodox interpretations +by many members of the colored race. Indeed, by their peculiar +interpretation of this command, it is established that "two clean sheets +can't smut", which means that a devout man and woman may indulge in the +primal passion without committing sin.</p> + +<p>The old man rather boasts of the fact that he received a number of +whippings when a slave: says he now knows that he deserved them, "an +thout 'em", he would have no doubt "been hung 'fore he wuz thutty years +ole."</p> + +<p>Among the very old slaves whom he knew as a boy were quite a few whom +the Negroes looked up to, respected, and feared as witches, wizzards, +and magic-workers. These either brought their "learnin" with them from +Africa or absorbed it from their immediate African forebears. Mentally, +these people wern't brilliant, but highly sensitized, and Rias gave "all +sich" as wide a berth as opportunity permitted him, though he knows "dat +dey had secret doins an carrying-ons". In truth, had the Southern Whites +not curbed the mumbo-jumboism of his people, he is of the opinion that +it would not now be safe to step "out his doe at night".</p> + +<p>Incidentally, Rias Body is more fond of rabbit than any other meat "in +de wurrul", and says that he could—if he were able to get them—eat +three rabbits a day, 365 days in the year, and two for breakfast on +Christmas morning. He also states that pork, though killed in the +hottest of July weather, will not spoil if it is packed down in shucked +corn-on-the-cob. This he learned in slavery days when, as a "run-away", +he "knocked a shoat in the head" one summer and tried it—proving it.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BoltonJames"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +JAMES BOLTON<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residency 4<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Miss Maude Barragan<br> +Residency 13<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>"It never was the same on our plantation atter we done laid Mistess +away," said James Bolton, 85 year old mulatto ex-slave. "I ain't never +forget when Mistess died—she had been so good to every nigger on our +plantation. When we got sick, Mistess allus had us tended to. The +niggers on our plantation all walked to church to hear her funeral +sermon and then walked to the graveyard to the buryin'."</p> + +<p>James, shrivelled and wrinkled, with his bright eyes taking in +everything on one of his rare visits to town, seemed glad of the chance +to talk about slavery days. He spoke of his owner as "my employer" and +hastily corrected himself by saying, "I means, my marster."</p> + +<p>"My employer, I means my marster, and my mistess, they was sho' all +right white folkses," he continued. "They lived in the big 'ouse. Hit +was all painted brown. I heard tell they was more'n 900 acres in our +plantation and lots of folkses lived on it. The biggest portion was +woods. My paw, he was name Whitfield Bolton and Liza Bolton was my maw. +Charlie, Edmund, Thomas and John Bolton was my brothers and I had one +sister, she was Rosa. We belonged to Marse Whitfield Bolton and we lived +on his plantation in Oglethorpe County near Lexington, not far from the +Wilkes County line.</p> + +<p>"We stayed in a one room log cabin with a dirt floor. A frame made outen +pine poles was fastened to the wall to hold up the mattresses. Our +mattresses was made outen cotton bagging stuffed with wheat straw. Our +kivers was quilts made outen old clothes. Slave 'omens too old to work +in the fields made the quilts.</p> + +<p>"Maw, she went up to the big house onc't a week to git the 'lowance or +vittles. They 'lowanced us a week's rations at a time. Hit were +generally hog meat, corn meal and sometimes a little flour. Maw, she +done our cookin' on the coals in the fireplace at our cabin. We had +plenty of 'possums and rabbits and fishes and sometimes we had wild +tukkeys and partidges. Slaves warn't spozen to go huntin' at night and +everybody know you can't ketch no 'possums 'ceppin' at night! Jus' the +same, we had plenty 'possums and nobody ax how we cotch 'em!" James +laughed and nodded. "Now, 'bout them rabbits! Slaves warn't 'lowed to +have no guns and no dogs of they own. All the dogs on our plantation +belonged to my employer—I means, to my marster, and he 'lowed us to use +his dogs to run down the rabbits. Nigger mens and boys 'ud go in crowds, +sometimes as many as twelve at one time, and a rabbit ain't got no +chance 'ginst a lot of niggers and dogs when they light out for to run +'im down!</p> + +<p>"What wild critters we wanted to eat and couldn't run down, we was right +smart 'bout ketchin' in traps. We cotch lots of wild tukkeys and +partidges in traps and nets. Long Crick runned through our plantation +and the river warn't no fur piece off. We sho' did ketch the fishes, +mostly cats, and perch and heaps and heaps of suckers. We cotch our +fishes mos'n generally with hook and line, but the carpenters on our +plantation knowed how to make basket traps that sho' nuff did lay in the +fishes! God only knows how long it's been since this old nigger pulled +a big shad out of the river. Ain't no shads been cotch in the river +round here in so long I disremembers when!</p> + +<p>"We didn' have no gardens of our own round our cabins. My employer—I +means, my marster—had one big gyarden for our whole plantation and all +his niggers had to work in it whensomever he wanted 'em to, then he give +'em all plenty good gyarden sass for theyselfs. They was collards and +cabbage and turnips and beets and english peas and beans and onions, and +they was allus some garlic for ailments. Garlic was mostly to cure wums +(worms). They roasted the garlic in the hot ashes and squez the juice +outen it and made the chilluns take it. Sometimes they made poultices +outen garlic for the pneumony.</p> + +<p>"We saved a heap of bark from wild cherry and poplar and black haw and +slippery ellum trees and we dried out mullein leaves. They was all mixed +and brewed to make bitters. Whensomever a nigger got sick, them bitters +was good for—well ma'am, they was good for what ailed 'em! We tuk 'em +for rheumatiz, for fever, and for the misery in the stummick and for +most all sorts of sickness. Red oak bark tea was good for sore throat.</p> + +<p>"I never seed no store bought clothes twel long atter freedom done come! +One slave 'oman done all the weavin' in a separate room called the 'loom +house.' The cloth was dyed with home-made coloring. They used indigo for +blue, red oak bark for brown, green husks offen warnicks (walnuts) for +black, and sumacs for red and they'd mix these colors to make other +colors. Other slave 'omans larned to sew and they made all the clothes. +Endurin' the summertime we jus' wore shirts and pants made outen plain +cotton cloth. They wove wool in with the cotton to make the cloth for +our winter clothes. The wool was raised right thar on our plantation. We +had our own shoemaker man—he was a slave named Buck Bolton and he made +all the shoes the niggers on our plantation wore.</p> + +<p>"I waren't nothin' but chillun when freedom come. In slavery-time +chilluns waren't 'lowed to do no wuk kazen the marsters wanted they +niggers to grow up big and strong and didn' want 'em stunted none. Tha's +howcome I didn' git no mo' beatin's than I did! My employer—I means, my +marster, never did give me but one lickin'. He had done told me to watch +the cows and keep 'em in the pastur'. I cotch lots of grasshoppers and +started fishin' in the crick runnin' through the pastur' and fust thing +I knowed, the overseer was roundin' up all the other niggers to git the +cows outen the cornfields! I knowed then my time had done come!"</p> + +<p>James was enjoying the spotlight now, and his audience did not have to +prompt him. Plantation recollections crowded together in his old mind.</p> + +<p>"We had one overseer at a time," he said, "and he allus lived at the big +'ouse. The overseers warn't quality white folkses like our marster and +mistess but we never heard nuffin' 'bout no poor white trash in them +days, and effen we had heard sumpin' like that we'd have knowed better'n +to let Marster hear us make such talk! Marster made us call his overseer +'Mister.' We had one overseer named Mr. Andrew Smith and another time we +had a overseer named Mr. Pope Short. Overseers was jus' there on the +business of gettin' the work done—they seed atter everybody doin' his +wuk 'cordin' to order.</p> + +<p>"My employer—I means, my marster, never 'lowed no overseer to whup none +of his niggers! Marster done all the whuppin' on our plantation hisself. +He never did make no big bruises and he never drawed no blood, but he +sho' could burn 'em up with that lash! Niggers on our plantation was +whupped for laziness mostly. Next to that, whuppings was for stealin' +eggs and chickens. They fed us good and plenty but a nigger is jus' +bound to pick up chickens and eggs effen he kin, no matter how much he +done eat! He jus' can't help it. Effen a nigger ain't busy he gwine to +git into mischief!</p> + +<p>"Now and then slaves 'ud run away and go in the woods and dig dens and +live in 'em. Sometimes they runned away on 'count of cruel treatment, +but most of the time they runned away kazen they jus' didn't want to +wuk, and wanted to laze around for a spell. The marsters allus put the +dogs atter 'em and git 'em back. They had black and brown dogs called +'nigger hounds' what waren't used for nothin' but to track down niggers.</p> + +<p>"They waren't no such place as a jail whar we was. Effen a nigger done +sumpin' disorderly they jus' natcherly tuk a lash to 'im. I ain't never +seed no nigger in chains twel long atter freedom done come when I seed +'em on the chain gangs.</p> + +<p>"The overseer woke us up at sunrise—leas'n they called it sunrise! We +would finish our vittles and be in the fields ready for wuk befo' we +seed any sun! We laid off wuk at sunset and they didn't drive us hard. +Leas'wise, they didn' on our plantation. I done heard they was moughty +hard on 'em on other plantations. My marster never did 'low his niggers +to wuk atter sundown. My employer, I means my marster, didn't have no +bell. He had 'em blow bugles to wake up his hands and to call 'em from +the fields. Sometimes the overseer blowed it. Mistess done larned the +cook to count the clock, but none of the rest of our niggers could count +the clock.</p> + +<p>"I never knowed Marster to sell but one slave and he jus' had bought her +from the market at New Orleans. She say it lonesome off on the +plantation and axed Marster for to sell her to folkses livin' in town. +Atter he done sold her, every time he got to town she beg 'im to buy her +back! But he didn' pay her no more 'tention. When they had sales of +slaves on the plantations they let everybody know what time the sale +gwine to be. When the crowd git togedder they put the niggers on the +block and sell 'em. Leas'wise, they call it 'puttin' on the block'—they +jus' fotch 'em out and show 'em and sell 'em.</p> + +<p>"They waren't no church for niggers on our plantation and we went to +white folkses church and listened to the white preachers. We set behind +a partition. Sometimes on a plantation a nigger claim he done been +called to preach and effen he kin git his marster's cawn-sent he kin +preach round under trees and in cabins when t'aint wuk time. These +nigger preachers in slavery time was called 'chairbackers.' They waren't +no chairbackers 'lowed to baptize none of Marster's niggers. White +preachers done our baptizin' in Long Crick. When we went to be baptized +they allus sang, 'Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound!'"</p> + +<p>The old negro's quavery voice rose in the familiar song. For a moment he +sat thinking of those long-ago Sundays. His eyes brightened again, and +he went on:</p> + +<p>"We never done no wuk on Sundays on our plantation. The church was 'bout +nine miles from the plantation and we all walked there. Anybody too old +and feeble to walk the nine miles jus' stayed home, kazen Marster didn't +'low his mules used none on Sunday. All along the way niggers from other +plantations 'ud jine us and sometimes befo' we git to the church house +they'd be forty or fifty slaves comin' along the road in a crowd! +Preaching generally lasted twel bout three o'clock. In summertime we had +dinner on the ground at the church. Howsomever we didn' have no barbecue +like they does now. Everybody cooked enough on Sadday and fotched it in +baskets.</p> + +<p>"I was thirty years old when I jined the church. Nobody ought to jine no +church twels't he is truly borned of God, and effen he is truly borned +of God he gwine know it. Effen you want a restin' place atter you leaves +this old world you ought to git ready for it now!</p> + +<p>"When folkses on our plantation died Marster allus let many of us as +wanted to go, lay offen wuk twel atter the buryin'. Sometimes it were +two or three months atter the buryin' befo' the funeral sermon was +preached. Right now I can't rekelleck no song we sung at funerals cep'n +'Hark from the tombs a doleful sound.'"</p> + +<p>The reedy old voice carried the funeral hymn for a few minutes and then +trailed off. James was thinking back into the past again.</p> + +<p>"Spring plowin' and hoein' times we wukked all day Saddays, but mos'en +generally we laid off wuk at twelve o'clock Sadday. That was dinnertime. +Sadday nights we played and danced. Sometimes in the cabins, sometimes +in the yards. Effen we didn' have a big stack of fat kindling wood lit +up to dance by, sometimes the mens and 'omans would carry torches of +kindling wood whils't they danced and it sho' was a sight to see! We +danced the 'Turkey Trot' and 'Buzzard Lope', and how we did love to +dance the 'Mary Jane!' We would git in a ring and when the music started +we would begin wukkin' our footses while we sang 'You steal my true love +and I steal your'n!'</p> + +<p>"Atter supper we used to gether round and knock tin buckets and pans, we +beat 'em like drums. Some used they fingers and some used sticks for to +make the drum sounds and somebody allus blowed on quills. Quills was a +row of whistles made outen reeds, or sometimes they made 'em outen bark. +Every whistle in the row was a different tone and you could play any +kind of tune you wants effen you had a good row of quills. They sho' did +sound sweet!</p> + +<p>"'Bout the most fun we had was at corn shuckin's whar they put the corn +in long piles and called in the folkses from the plantations nigh round +to shuck it. Sometimes four or five hunnert head of niggers 'ud be +shuckin' corn at one time. When the corn all done been shucked they'd +drink the likker the marsters give 'em and then frolic and dance from +sundown to sunup. We started shuckin' corn 'bout dinnertime and tried to +finish by sundown so we could have the whole night for frolic. Some +years we 'ud go to ten or twelve corn shuckin's in one year!</p> + +<p>"We would sing and pray Easter Sunday and on Easter Monday we frolicked +and danced all day long! Christmas we allus had plenty good sumpin' to +eat and we all got togedder and had lots of fun. We runned up to the big +'ouse early Christmas mornin' and holler out: 'Mornin', Christmas Gif'!' +Then they'd give us plenty of Sandy Claus and we would go back to our +cabins to have fun twel New Year's day. We knowed Christmas was over and +gone when New Year's day come, kazen we got back to wuk that day atter +frolickin' all Christmas week.</p> + +<p>"We didn' know nuttin' 'bout games to play. We played with the white +folkses chilluns and watched atter 'em but most of the time we played in +the crick what runned through the pastur'. Nigger chilluns was allus +skeered to go in the woods atter dark. Folkses done told us +Raw-Head-and-Bloody Bones lived in the woods and git little chilluns and +eat 'em up effen they got out in the woods atter dark!</p> + +<p>"'Rockabye baby in the tree trops' was the onliest song I heard my maw +sing to git her babies to sleep. Slave folkses sung most all the time +but we didn' think of what we sang much. We jus' got happy and started +singin'. Sometimes we 'ud sing effen we felt sad and lowdown, but soon +as we could, we 'ud go off whar we could go to sleep and forgit all +'bout trouble!" James nodded his gray head with a wise look in his +bright eyes. "When you hear a nigger singin' sad songs hit's jus' kazen +he can't stop what he is doin' long enough to go to sleep!"</p> + +<p>The laughter that greeted this sally brought an answering grin to the +wrinkled old face. Asked about marriage customs, James said:</p> + +<p>"Folkses didn' make no big to-do over weddings like they do now. When +slaves got married they jus' laid down the broom on the floor and the +couple jined hands and jumped back-uds over the broomstick. I done seed +'em married that way many a time. Sometimes my marster would fetch +Mistess down to the slave quarters to see a weddin'. Effen the slaves +gittin' married was house servants, sometimes they married on the back +porch or in the back yard at the big 'ouse but plantation niggers what +was field hands married in they own cabins. The bride and groom jus' +wore plain clothes kazen they didn' have no more.</p> + +<p>"When the young marsters and mistesses at the big houses got married +they 'lowed the slaves to gadder on the porch and peep through the +windows at the weddin'. Mos'en generally they 'ud give the young couple +a slave or two to take with them to they new home. My marster's chilluns +was too young to git married befo' the war was over. They was seven of +them chilluns; four of 'em was gals.</p> + +<p>"What sort of tales did they tell 'mongs't the slaves 'bout the Norf +befo' the war? To tell the troof, they didn't talk much like they does +now 'bout them sort of things. None of our niggers ever runned away and +we didn' know nuthin' 'bout no Norf twel long atter freedom come. We +visited round each other's cabins at night. I did hear tell 'bout the +patterollers. Folkses said effen they cotched niggers out at night they +'ud give 'em 'what Paddy give the drum'.</p> + +<p>"Jus' befo' freedom comed 'bout 50 Yankee sojers come through our +plantation and told us that the bull-whups and cow-hides was all dead +and buried. Them sojers jus' passed on in a hurry and didn' stop for a +meal or vittles or nuffin'. We didn't talk much 'bout Mr. Abbieham +Lincum endurin' slavery time kazen we was skeered of him atter the war +got started. I don't know nothin' 'bout Mr. Jef'son Davis, I don't +remember ever hearin' 'bout him. I is heard about Mr. Booker Washin'ton +and they do say he runned a moughty good school for niggers.</p> + +<p>"One mornin' Marster blowed the bugle his own self and called us all up +to the big 'ouse yard. He told us: 'You all jus' as free as I is. You +are free from under the taskmarster but you ain't free from labor. You +gotter labor and wuk hard effen you aims to live and eet and have +clothes to wear. You kin stay here and wuk for me, or you kin go +wharsomever you please.' He said he 'ud pay us what was right, and Lady, +hit's the troof, they didn't nary a nigger on our plantation leave our +marster then! I wukked on with Marster for 40 years atter the war!"</p> + +<p>James had no fear of the Ku Klux.</p> + +<p>"Right soon atter the war we saw plenty of Ku Kluxers but they never +bothered nobody on our plantation. They allus seemed to be havin' heaps +of fun. 'Course, they did have to straighten out some of them brash +young nigger bucks on some of the other farms round about. Mos' of the +niggers the Ku Kluxers got atter was'n on no farm, but was jus' roamin' +'round talkin' too much and makin' trouble. They had to take 'em in hand +two or three times befo' some of them fool free niggers could be larned +to behave theyselfs! But them Ku Kluxers kept on atter 'em twels't they +larned they jus got to be good effen they 'spects to stay round here.</p> + +<p>"Hit was about 40 years atter the war befo' many niggers 'gun to own +they own lan'. They didn' know nothin' 'bout tendin' to money business +when the war done ended and it take 'em a long time to larn how to buy +and sell and take care of what they makes." James shook his head sadly. +"Ma'am, heaps of niggers ain't never larned nothin' 'bout them things +yit!</p> + +<p>"A long time atter the war I married Lizy Yerby. I didn' give Liza no +chanc't for to dress up. Jus' went and tuk her right outer the white +folkses' kitchen and married her at the church in her workin' clothes. +We had 13 chilluns but they ain't but two of 'em livin' now. Mos' of our +chilluns died babies. Endurin' slavery Mistess tuk care of all the +nigger babies borned on our plantations and looked atter they mammies +too, but atter freedom come heap of nigger babies died out."</p> + +<p>James said he had two wives, both widows.</p> + +<p>"I married my second wife 37 years ago. To tell the troof, I don't +rightly know how many grandchilluns I got, kazen I ain't seed some of +'em for thirty years. My chilluns is off fum here and I wouldn' know to +save my life whar they is or what they does. My sister and brothers they +is done dead out what ain't gone off, I don't know for sho' whar none of +'em is now."</p> + +<p>A sigh punctuated James' monologue, and his old face was shadowed by a +look of fear.</p> + +<p>"Now I gwine tell you the troof. Now that it's all over I don't find +life so good in my old age, as it was in slavery time when I was chillun +down on Marster's plantation. Then I didn' have to worry 'bout whar my +clothes and my somepin' to eat was comin' from or whar I was gwine to +sleep. Marster tuk keer of all that. Now I ain't able for to wuk and +make a livin' and hit's sho' moughty hard on this old nigger."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BostwickAlec"></a> +<h3>ALEC BOSTWICK<br> +Ex-Slave—Age 76</h3> + +<p>[TR: Preceding page that would usually contain information regarding the +interview was marked 'Placeholder'.]</p> +<br> + +<p>All of Uncle Alec Bostwick's people are dead and he lives in his tiny +home with a young Negress named Emma Vergal. It was a beautiful April +morning when his visitor arrived and while he was cordial enough he +seemed very reluctant about talking. However, as one question followed +another his interest gradually overcame his hesitancy and he began to +unfold his life's story.</p> + +<p>"I wuz born in Morgan County, an' I warn't mo' dan four year old when de +War ended so I don't ricollect nothin' 'bout slav'ry days. I don't know +much 'bout my ma, but her name was Martha an' pa's name was Jordan +Bostwick, I don't know whar dey come from. When I knowed nothin' I wuz +dar on de plantation. I had three brothers; George, John an' Reeje, an' +dey's all dead. I dis'members my sister's name. Dar warn't but one gal +an' she died when she wuz little.</p> + +<p>"Ain't much to tell 'bout what wuz done in de quarters. Slaves wuz +gyarded all de time jus' lak Niggers on de chain gang now. De overseer +always sot by wid a gun.</p> + +<p>"'Bout de beds, Nigger boys didn't pay no 'tention to sich as dat 'cause +all dey keered 'bout wuz a place to sleep but 'peers lak to me dey wuz +corded beds, made wid four high posties, put together wid iron pegs, an' +holes what you run de cords thoo', bored in de sides. De cords wuz made +out of b'ar grass woun' tight together. Dey put straw an' old quilts on +'em, an' called 'em beds.</p> + +<p>"Gran'pa Berry wuz too old to wuk in de field so he stayed 'roun' de +house an' piddled. He cut up wood, tended to de gyarden an' yard, an' +bottomed chairs. Gran'ma Liza done de cookin' an' nussed de white +folkses chilluns.</p> + +<p>"I wukked in de field 'long side da rest of de Niggers, totin' water an' +sich lak, wid de overseer dar all de time wid dat gun.</p> + +<p>"What you talkin' 'bout Miss? Us didn't have no money. Sho' us didn't. +Dey had to feed us an' plenty of it, 'cause us couldn't wuk if dey +didn't feed us good.</p> + +<p>"Us et cornbread, sweet 'tatoes, peas, home-made syrup an' sich lak. De +meat wuz fried sometimes, but mos' of de time it wuz biled wid de +greens. All de somethin' t'eat wuz cooked in de fireplace. Dey didn't +know what stoves wuz in dem days. Yes Ma'am, us went 'possum huntin' at +night, an' us had plenty 'possums too. Dey put sweet 'tatoes an' fat +meat roun' 'em, an' baked 'em in a oven what had eyes on each side of it +to put hooks in to take it off de fire wid.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'am, us didn't go fishin', or rabbit huntin' nuther. Us had to wuk +an' warn't no Nigger 'lowed to do no frolickin' lak dat in daytime. De +white folkses done all de fishin' an' daytime huntin'. I don't 'member +lakin' no sartin' somethin'. I wuz jus' too glad to git anythin'. Slaves +didn't have no gyardens of dey own. Old Marster had one big gyarden what +all de slaves et out of.</p> + +<p>"Tell you 'bout our clo'es: us wore home-made clo'es, pants an' shirts +made out of cotton in summer an' in de winter dey give us mo' home-made +clo'es only dey wuz made of wool. All de clawf wuz made on de loom right +dar on de plantation. Us wore de same things on Sunday what us did in de +week, no diffunt. Our shoes wuz jus' common brogans what dey made at +home. I ain't seed no socks 'til long atter de War. Co'se some folkses +mought a had 'em, but us didn't have none.</p> + +<p>"Marster Berry Bostwick an' Mist'ess Mary Bostwick, had a passel of +chillun, I don't 'member none 'cept young Marse John. De others drifted +off an' didn't come back, but young Marse John stayed on wid Old Marster +an' Old Mist'ess 'til dey died. Old Marster, he warn't good. Truth is de +light, an' he wuz one mean white man. Old Mist'ess wuz heaps better dan +him. Dar wuz 'bout 150 mens an' 75 'omans. I couldn't keep up wid de +chilluns. Dere wuz too many for me.</p> + +<p>"Marster an' Mist'ess lived in a big fine house, but de slave quarters +wuz made of logs, 'bout de size of box cyars wid two rooms.</p> + +<p>"'Bout dat overseer he wuz a mean man, if one ever lived. He got de +slaves up wid a gun at five o'clock an' wukked 'em 'til way atter +sundown, standin' right over 'em wid a gun all de time. If a Nigger +lagged or tuk his eyes off his wuk, right den an' dar he would make him +strip down his clo'es to his waist, an' he whup him wid a cat-o-nine +tails. Evvy lick dey struck him meant he wuz hit nine times, an' it +fotch da red evvy time it struck.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Yes Ma'am, dey had a cyar'iage driver, he didn't do much 'cept +look attar de hawses an' drive de white folkses 'roun'.</p> + +<p>"I done tole you 'bout dat overseer; all he done wuz sot 'roun' all day +wid a gun an' make de Niggers wuk. But I'se gwine tell you de trufe, he +sho' wuz poor white trash wid a house full of snotty-nose chilluns. Old +Marster tole him he wuz jus' lak a rabbit, he had so many chillun. I +means dis; if dem days comes back I hope de good Lord takes me fus'.</p> + +<p>"Dey had a house whar dey put de Niggers, what wuz called de gyard +house, an' us didn't know nothin' 'bout no jail dat day an' time. I seed +'em drive de Niggers by old Marster's place in droves takin' 'em to +Watkinsville. Morgan County, whar us lived, touched Oconee an' dat wuz +the nighes' town. One day I went wid old Marster to Watkinsville an' I +seed 'em sell Niggers on de block. I warn't sold. When I knowed nothin' +I wuz right whar I wuz at.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for de Niggers in dem days. If a Nigger +wuz seed wid a paper, de white folks would pretty nigh knock his head +off him.</p> + +<p>"Us didn't have no church in de country for Niggers, an' dey went to +church wid deir white folkses, if dey went a tall. De white folks sot in +front, an' de Niggers sot in de back. All de time dat overseer wuz right +dar wid his gun. When dey baptized de Niggers dey tuk 'em down to de +river and plunged 'em in, while dem what had done been baptized sang: +"Dar's a Love Feast in Heb'en Today."</p> + +<p>"Yes Ma'am, de white folkses had deir cemetery, an' dey had one for de +slaves. When dere wuz a funeral 'mong de Niggers us sung:</p> + +<pre> +'Dark was de night + And cold was de groun' + Whar my Marster was laid + De drops of sweat + Lak blood run down + In agony He prayed.' +</pre> + +<p>"Dem coffins sho' wuz mournful lookin' things, made out of pine boa'ds +an' painted wid lampblack; dey wuz black as de night. Dey wuz big at de +head an' little at de foot, sort a lak airplanes is. De inside wuz lined +wid white clawf, what dey spun on de plantation.</p> + +<p>"De patterollers wuz right on dey job. Slaves use' to frame up on 'em if +dey knowed whar dey wuz hidin', 'waitin' to cotch a Nigger. Dey would +git hot ashes an' dash over 'em, an' dem patterollers dey sho' would +run, but de slaves would git worse dan dat, if dey was cotched.</p> + +<p>"Miss, in slav'ry time when Niggers come from de fields at night dey +warn't no frolickin'. Dey jus' went to sleep. De mens wukked all day +Sadday, but de 'omans knocked off at twelve o'clock to wash an' sich +lak.</p> + +<p>"Christmas times dey give us a week off an' brung us a little candy an' +stuff 'roun'. Not much, not much. On New Year's Day us had to git back +on de job.</p> + +<p>"Chilluns what wuz big enough to wuk didn't have time in week days to +play no games on Marse Bostwick's place. On Sunday us played wid marbles +made out of clay, but dat's all. I heered my ma sing a little song to de +baby what soun' lak dis:</p> + +<pre> +'Hush little baby + Don't you cry + You'll be an angel + Bye-an'-bye.' +</pre> + +<p>"Yes Ma'am, dere wuz one thing dey wuz good 'bout. When de Niggers got +sick dey sont for de doctor. I heered 'em say dey biled jimson weeds an' +made tea for colds, an' rhubarb tea wuz to cure worms in chillun. I wuz +too young to be bothered 'bout witches an' charms, Rawhead an' Bloody +Bones an' sich. I didn't take it in.</p> + +<p>"When de Yankees come thoo' an' 'lowed us wuz free, us thought dey wuz +jus' dem patterollers, an' us made for de woods. Dey tole us to come +out, dat us wuz free Niggers. Marster Berry said: 'You dam Niggers am +free. You don't b'long to me no more.'</p> + +<p>"Us married long time atter de War, an' us had a little feast: cake, +wine, fried chicken, an' ham, an' danced 'til 'mos' daybreak. I 'members +how good she looked wid dat pretty dove colored dress, all trimmed wid +lace. Us didn't have no chillun. She wuz lak a tree what's sposen to +bear fruit an' don't. She died 'bout thirteen years ago.</p> + +<p>"When de Ku Kluxers come thoo', us chillun thought de devil wuz atter us +for sho'. I wuz sich a young chap I didn't take in what dey said 'bout +Mr. Abyham Lincoln, an' Mr. Jeff Davis. Us would a been slaves 'til yit, +if Mr. Lincoln hadn't sot us free. Dey wuz bofe of 'em, good mens. I +sho' had ruther be free. Who wants a gun over 'em lak a prisoner? A +pusson is better off dead.</p> + +<p>"I jined de church 'cause dis is a bad place at de bes' an' dere's so +many mean folkses, what's out to seem good an' ain't. An' if you serve +God in de right way, I'se sho' when you die he'll give you a place to +rest for evermore. An' 'cordin' to my notion dat's de way evvybody +oughta live."</p> + +<p>In conclusion, Alec said: "I don't want to talk no more. I'se +disappointed, I thought sho' you wuz one of dem pension ladies what come +for to fetch me some money. I sho' wish dey would come. Good-bye Miss." +Then he hobbled into the house.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BoudryNancy"></a> +<h3>Barragan-Harris<br> +[TR: Miss Maude Barragan (interviewer), Mrs. Leila Harris (editor)]<br> +<br> +NANCY BOUDRY, THOMSON, GEORGIA</h3> +<br> + +<p>"If I ain't a hunnard," said Nancy, nodding her white-turbaned head, "I +sho' is close to it, 'cause I got a grandson 50 years old."</p> + +<p>Nancy's silky white hair showed long and wavy under her headband. Her +gingham dress was clean, and her wrinkled skin was a reddish-yellow +color, showing a large proportion of Indian and white blood. Har eyes +ware a faded blue.</p> + +<p>"I speck I is mos' white," acknowledged Nancy, "but I ain't never knowed +who my father was. My mother was a dark color."</p> + +<p>The cottage faced the pine grove behind an old church. Pink ramblers +grew everywhere, and the sandy yard was neatly kept. Nancy's paralyzed +granddaughter-in-law hovered in the doorway, her long smooth braids +hanging over Indian-brown shoulders, a loose wrapper of dark blue denim +flowing around her tall unsteady figure. She was eager to taka part in +the conversation but hampered by a thick tongue induced, as Nancy put +it, "by a bad sore throat she ain't got over."</p> + +<p>Nancy's recollections of plantation days were colored to a somber hue by +overwork, childbearing, poor food and long working hours.</p> + +<p>"Master was a hard taskmaster," said Nancy. "My husband didn't live on +de same plantation where I was, de Jerrell places in Columbia County. He +never did have nuthin' to give me 'cause he never got nuthin'. He had to +come and ask my white folks for me. Dey had to carry passes everywhere +dey went, if dey didn't, dey'd git in trouble.</p> + +<p>"I had to work hard, plow and go and split wood jus' like a man. +Sometimes dey whup me. Dey whup me bad, pull de cloes off down to de +wais'—my master did it, our folks didn' have overseer.</p> + +<p>"We had to ask 'em to let us go to ohurch. Went to white folks church, +'tell de black folks get one of dere own. No'm I dunno how to read. +Never had no schools at all, didn' 'low us to pick up a piece paper and +look at it."</p> + +<p>"Nancy, wasn't your mistress kind to you?"</p> + +<p>"Mistis was sorta kin' to me, sometimes. But dey only give me meat and +bread, didn' give me nothin' good—I ain' gwine tell no story. I had a +heap to undergo wid. I had to scour at night at de Big House—two planks +one night, two more de nex'. De women peoples spun at night and reeled, +so many cuts a night. Us had to git up befo' daybreak be ready to go to +de fiel's.</p> + +<p>"My master didn' have but three cullud people, dis yuh was what I stayed +wid, my young master, had not been long married and dus' de han's dey +give him when he marry was all he had.</p> + +<p>"Didn' have no such house as dis," Nancy looked into the open door of +the comfortable octtage, "sometimes dey have a house built, it would be +daubed. Dus' one family, didn' no two families double up."</p> + +<p>"But the children had a good time, didn't they? They played games?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe dey did play ring games, I never had no time to see what games my +chillus play, I work so hard. Heap o' little chillun slep' on de flo'. +Never had no frolics neither, no ma'm, and didn' go to none. We would +have prayer meetings on Saturday nights, and one might in de week us had +a chairback preacher, and sometimes a regular preacher would come in."</p> + +<p>Nancy did not remember ever having seen the Patterollers.</p> + +<p>"I hearn talk of 'em you know, heap o' times dey come out and make out +like dey gwine shoot you at night, dey mus' been Patterollers, dey was +gettin' hold of a heap of 'em."</p> + +<p>"What did you do about funerals, Nancy?"</p> + +<p>"Dey let us knock off for funerals, I tell de truth. Us stay up all +night, singin' and prayin'. Dey make de coffin outter pine boards."</p> + +<p>"Did you suffer during the war?"</p> + +<p>"We done de bes' we could, we et what we could get, sometimes didn' have +nothin' to eat but piece of cornbread, but de white folks allus had +chicken."</p> + +<p>"But you had clothes to wear?"</p> + +<p>"Us had clothes 'cause we spun de thread and weaved 'em. Dey bought dem +dere great big ole brogans where you couldn' hardly walk in 'em. Not +like dese shoes I got on." Nancy thrust out her foot, easy in "Old +Ladies' Comforts."</p> + +<p>"When they told you were free, Nancy, did the master appear to be +angry?"</p> + +<p>"No'm, white folks didn' 'pear to be mad. My master dus' tole us we was +free. Us moved right off, but not so far I couldn' go backwards and +forwards to see 'um." (So it was evident that even if Nancy's life had +been hard, there was a bond between her and her former owners.) "I didn' +do no mo' work for 'um, I work for somebody else. Us rented land and +made what we could, so we could have little somethin' to eat. I scoured +and waited on white people in town, got little piece of money, and was +dus' as proud!"</p> + +<p>Nancy savored the recollection of her first earned money a moment, +thinking back to the old days.</p> + +<p>"I had a preacher for my second marriage," she continued, "Fo' chillun +died on me—one girl, de yuthers was babies. White doctor tended me."</p> + +<p>Asked about midwifery, Nancy smiled.</p> + +<p>"I was a midwife myself, to black and white, after freedom. De Thomson +doctors all liked me and tole people to 'git Nancy.' I used 'tansy +tea'—heap o' little root—made black pepper tea, fotch de pains on 'em. +When I would git to de place where I had a hard case, I would send for +de doctor, and he would help me out, yes, doctor help me out of all of +'em."</p> + +<p>Asked about signs and superstitions, Nancy nodded.</p> + +<p>"I have seed things. Day look dus' like a person, walkin' in de woods. I +would look off and look back to see it again and it be gone." Nancy +lowered her voice mysteriously, and looked back into the little room +where Vanna's unsteady figure moved from bed to chair. "I seed a coffin +floatin' in de air in dat room—" she shivered, "and I heard a heap o' +knockings. I dunno what it bees—but de sounds come in de house. I runs +ev'y squeech owl away what comes close, too." Nancy clasped her hands, +right thumb over left thumb, "does dat—and it goes on away—dey quits +hollerin', you chokin' 'em when you does dat."</p> + +<p>"Do you plant by the moon, Nancy?"</p> + +<p>"Plant when de moon change, my garden, corn, beans. I planted some +beans once on de wrong time of de moon and dey didn' bear nothing—I +hated it so bad, I didn' know what to do, so I been mindful ever since +when I plant. Women peoples come down on de moon, too. I ain't know no +signs to raise chillun. I whup mine when dey didn' do right, I sho' did. +I didn' 'low my chillun to take nothin'—no aigs and nothin' 'tall and +bring 'em to my house. I say 'put dem right whar you git 'em."</p> + +<p>"Did you sing spirituals, Nancy?"</p> + +<p>"I sang regular meetin' songs," she said, "like 'lay dis body down' and +'let yo' joys be known'—but I can't sing now, not any mo'."</p> + +<p>Nancy was proud of her quilt-making ability.</p> + +<p>"Git 'um, Vanna, let de ladies see 'um," she said; and when Vanna +brought the gay pieces made up in a "double-burst" (sunburst) pattern, +Nancy fingered the squares with loving fingers. "Hit's pooty, ain't it?" +she asked wistfully, "I made one for a white lady two years ago, but dey +hurts my fingers now—makes 'em stiff."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BradleyAlice"></a> +<a name="ColquittKizzie"></a> +<h3>FOLKLORE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +ALICE BRADLEY<br> +Hull Street near Corner of Hoyt Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +KIZZIE COLQUITT<br> +243 Macon Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Miss Grace McCune<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Mrs. Leila Harris<br> +Editor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +[APR 20 1938]</h3> + +<p>[TR: These two interviews were filed together, though not recorded at +the same place or time.]</p> +<br> + +<p><b>Alice Bradley</b></p> + +<p>Alice Bradley, or "Aunt Alice" as she is known to everybody, "runs +cards" and claims to be a seeress. Apologetic and embarrassed because +she had overslept and was straightening her room, she explained that she +hadn't slept well because a dog had howled all night and she was uneasy +because of this certain forerunner of disaster.</p> + +<p>"Here t'is Sunday mornin' and what wid my back, de dog, and de +rheumatics in my feets, its [TR: 'done' crossed out] too late to go to +church, so come in honey I'se glad to hab somebody to talk to. Dere is +sho' goin' to be a corpse close 'round here. One night a long time ago +two dogs howled all night long and on de nex' Sunday dere wuz two +corpses in de church at de same time. Dat's one sign dat neber fails, +when a dog howls dat certain way somebody is sho' goin' to be daid."</p> + +<p>When asked what her full name was, she said: "My whole name is Alice +Bradley now. I used to be a Hill, but when I married dat th'owed me out +of bein' a Hill, so I'se jus' a Bradley now. I wuz born on January 14th +but I don't 'member what year. My ma had three chillun durin' de war and +one jus' atter de war. I think dat las' one wuz me, but I ain't sho'. My +pa's name wuz Jim Hill, and ma's name wuz Ca'line Hill. Both of 'em is +daid now. Pa died October 12, 1896 and wuz 88 years old. Ma died +November 20, 1900; she wuz 80 years old. I knows dem years is right +'cause I got 'em from dat old fambly Bible so I kin git 'em jus' right. +One of my sisters, older dan I is, stays in Atlanta wid her son. Since +she los' one of her sons, her mind's done gone. My other sister ain't as +old as I is but her mind is all right and she is well."</p> + +<p>"I wuz raised in Washin'ton, Wilkes County, and de fust I 'members was +stayin' wid Miss Alice Rayle. She had three chillun and I nussed 'em. +One of de boys is a doctor now, and has a fambly of his own, and de las' +I heared of 'im, he wuz stayin' in Atlanta.</p> + +<p>"I'se been married' two times. I runned away wid Will Grisham, when I +wuz 'bout 14 years old. Mr. Carter, a Justice of de Peace, met us under +a 'simmon tree and tied de knot right dar. My folks ketched us, but us +wuz already married and so it didn't make no diffunce.</p> + +<p>"I lived on a farm wid my fust husband, and us had three chillun, but +dey is all gone now. I 'members when my oldes' gal wuz 'bout 2 years +old, dey wuz playin' out on de porch wid dey little dog, when a mad dog +come by and bit my chillun's dog. Folks kilt our dog, and jus' 'bout one +week atterwards my little gal wuz daid too. She did love dat little dog, +and he sho' did mind 'er. She jus' grieved herself to death 'bout dat +dog.</p> + +<p>"Atter my fust husband died, I married Rich Bradley. Rich wuz a railroad +man, and he went off to Washin'ton, D.C., to wuk. He sont me money all +de time den, but when he went from dar to Shecargo to wuk I didn't hear +from 'im long, and I don't know what's happened to 'im 'til now, for +it's been a long time since I heared from 'im.</p> + +<p>"I loves to run de cyards for my friends. I always tells 'em when I sees +dere's trouble in de cyards for 'em, and shows 'em how to git 'round it, +if I kin. None of de res' of my folks ever run de cyards, but I'se been +at it ever since I wuz jus' a little gal, pickin' up old wore out +cyards, dat had bean th'owed away, 'cause I could see things in 'em. I +'members one time when I wuz small and didn't know so good what de +cyards wuz tellin' me, dat a rich man, one of de riches' in Wilkes +County, wuz at our place, I tol 'im de cyards when I run 'em. I saw +sompin' wuz goin' to happen on his place, dat two colored mens would be +tangled up wid, but I didn't know jus' what wuz goin' to happen. And +sho' 'nuff, two colored mens sot fire to his barns and burned up all his +horses and mules, de onlies' thing dey saved wuz one ridin' horse. Dey +ketched de mens, and dey served time for what dey done. One of 'em died +way out yonder where dey sont 'em.</p> + +<p>"I 'members one white lady way out in Alabama sont a note axin' me to +run de cyards for her. I runned 'em and got one of my friends to writer +her what I seed. Dey had run bright and dat wuz good luck. One time I +runned de cyards for two sisters dat had done married two brothers, and +de cyards run so close kin date I wuz able to tell 'em how dey wuz +married and dey tol me dat I wuz right.</p> + +<p>"And jus' a few days ago a old man come to see me thinkin' dat he wuz +pizened. When I runned de cyards, I seed his trouble. He had been +drinkin' and wuz sick, so I jus' give him a big dose of soda and cream +of tartar and he got better. Den I tole him to go on home; dat nobody +hadn't done nothin' to 'im and all he needed wuz a little medicine.</p> + +<p>"I told Mr. Dick Armell of how he wuz goin' to git kilt if he went up in +his airyplane dat day and begged him not to try it but to wait. He +wouldn't listen and went on and got kilt jus' lak I tole 'im he would. I +runned de cyards for Mrs. Armell lots of times for I liked 'im, and he +wuz a fine man. I runned de cyards for 'im one time 'fore he went to de +World's Fair, and de cyards run bright, and his trip wuz a good one jus' +lak I tole 'im it would be.</p> + +<p>"All de old white folks dat I wuz raised up wid, de Hills from +Washin'ton, Wilkes, is gone now, 'cept I think one of de gals is wukin' +at de capitol in Atlanta, but she done married now and I don't 'member +her name."</p> + +<p>Alice excused herself to answer a knock at the door. Upon her return she +said: "Dat wuz one of my white chillun. I wukked for 'em so long and one +of 'em comes by every now an' den to see if I needs sompin'. Her ma done +had a new picture of herself took and wanted me to see it. Dey sho' is +good to me."</p> + +<p>Alice doesn't charge for "running the cards." She says she doesn't have +a license, and is very thankful for anything that visitors may care to +give her. She will not run the cards on Sunday. "Dat's bad luck," she +said. "Come back some day when tain't Sunday, and I'll see whats in de +cyards for you!"</p> +<br> + +<p><b>Kizzie Colquitt</b></p> + +<p>Old Aunt Kizzie Colquitt, about 75 years old, was busily washing in her +neat kitchen. She opened the door and window frequently to let out the +smoke, saying: "Dis old wore out stove don't draw so good." Her hands +and feet were badly swollen and she seemed to be suffering.</p> + +<p>"I'll be glad to tell all I kin 'member 'bout dem old times," she said. +"I wuz borned durin' de war, but I don't 'member what year. My pa wuz +Mitchell Long. He b'longed to Marster Sam Long of Elbert County. Us +lived on Broad River. My ma wuz Sallie Long, and she b'longed to Marster +Billie Lattimore. Dey stayed on de other side of Broad River and my pa +and ma had to cross de river to see one another. Atter de war wuz over, +and dey wuz free, my pa went to Jefferson, Georgia, and dar he died.</p> + +<p>"My ma married some nigger from way out in Indiana. He promised her he +would send money back for her chillun, but us never heered nothin' from +'im no mo'. I wuz wid' my w'ite folks, de Lattimores, when my ma died, +way out in Indiana.</p> + +<p>"Atter Marse Bob died, I stayed wid my old Missus, and slep' by her bed +at night. She wuz good to me, and de hardes' wuk I done wuz pickin' up +acorns to fatten de hogs. I stayed dar wid her 'til she died. Us had +plenty t'eat, a smokehouse filled wid hams, and all de other things us +needed. Dey had a great big fireplace and a big old time oven whar dey +baked bread, and it sho' wuz good bread.</p> + +<p>"My old Missus died when I wuz 'bout 6 years old, and I wus sont to +Lexin'ton, Georgia, to live wid my sister. Dere wuz jus' da two of us +chilluns. Den us wukked every day, and went to bed by dark; not lak de +young folks now, gallivantin' 'bout all night long.</p> + +<p>"When I wuz 'bout 14 I married and come to live on Dr. Willingham's +place. It wuz a big plantation, and dey really lived. When de crops wuz +all in and all de wuk done, dey had big times 'round dar.</p> + +<p>"Dere wuz de corn shuckin' wid one house for de corn and another house +for de shucks. Atter all de shuckin' wuz done, dere wuz eatin' and +dancin'. And it wuz eatin' too! Dey kilt hogs, barbecued 'em, and +roasted some wid apples in dey mouf's to give 'em a good flavor, and +course a little corn likker went wid it. Dey had big doin's at syrup +makin' time too, but dat wuz hard wuk den. Makin' syrup sho' wuz a heap +of trouble.</p> + +<p>"Later us lived wid de Johnson fambly, and atter my old man died, I come +to dis town wid de Johnsons. Dere wuz three chilluns, Percy, Lewis, and +a gal. I stayed wid 'em 'til de chilluns wuz all growed up and +eddicated. All my other w'ite folks is gone; my sister done gone too, +and my son; all de chillun dat I had, deys done daid too.</p> + +<p>"Now I has to wash so I kin live. I used to have plenty, but times is +changed and now sometimes I don't have nothin' but bread, and jus' bread +is hard to git, heap of de time.</p> + +<p>"I put in for one of dem old age pensions, but dey ain't give me nothin' +yet, so I jus' wuk when I kin, and hope dat it won't be long 'fore I has +plenty again."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BriscoeDella"></a> +<h3>OLD SLAVE STORY<br> +<br> +DELLA BRISCOE<br> +Macon, Georgia<br> +<br> +By Adella S. Dixon [HW: (Colored)]<br> +[JUL 28 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Della Briscoe, now living in Macon, is a former slave of Mr. David Ross, +who owned a large plantation in Putnam County. Della, when a very tiny +child, was carried there with her father and mother, Sam and Mary Ross. +Soon after their arrival the mother was sent to work at the "big house" +in Eatonton. This arrangement left Della, her brother and sister to the +care of their grandmother, who really posed as their mother. The +children grew up under the impression that their mother was an older +sister and did not know the truth until just after the close of the +Civil War, when the mother became seriously ill and called the children +to her bedside to tell them goodbye.</p> + +<p>Mr. David Ross had a large family and was considered the richest planter +in the county. Nearly every type of soil was found on his vast estate, +composed of hilly sections as well as acres of lowlands. The highway +entering Eatonton divided the plantation and, down this road every +Friday, Della's father drove the wagon to town with a supply of fresh +butter, for Mrs. Ross' thirty head of cows supplied enough milk to +furnish the city dwellers with butter.</p> + +<p>Refrigeration was practically unknown, so a well was used to keep the +butter fresh. This cool well was eighty feet deep and passed through a +layer of solid rock. A rope ladder was suspended from the mouth of the +well to the place where the butter was lowered for preservation. For +safety, and to shield it from the sun, reeds were planted all around +the well. And as they grew very tall, a stranger would not suspect a +well being there.</p> + +<p>In addition to marketing, Della's father trapped beavers which were +plentiful in the swampy part of the plantation bordering the Oconee, +selling their pelts to traders in the nearby towns of Augusta and +Savannah, where Mr. Ross also marketed his cotton and large quantities +of corn. Oxen, instead of mules, were used to make the trips to market +and return, each trip consuming six or seven days.</p> + +<p>The young children were assigned small tasks, such as piling brush in +"new grounds", carrying water to field hands, and driving the calves to +pasture.</p> + +<p>Punishment was administered, though not as often as on some plantations. +The little girl, Della, was whipped only once—for breaking up a +turkey's nest she had found. Several were accused of this, and because +the master could not find the guilty party, he whipped each of the +children.</p> + +<p>Crime was practically unknown and Mr. Ross' slaves never heard of a jail +until they were freed.</p> + +<p>Men were sometimes placed in "bucks", which meant they were laid across +blocks with their hands and feet securely tied. An iron bar was run +between the blocks to prevent any movement; then, after being stripped, +they were whipped. Della said that she knew of but one case of this type +of punishment being administered a Ross slave. Sickness was +negligible—childbirth being practically the only form of a Negro +woman's "coming down".</p> + +<p>As a precaution against disease, a tonic was given each slave every +spring. Three were also, every spring, taken from the field each day +until every one had been given a dose of calomel and salts. Mr. Ross +once bought two slaves who became ill with smallpox soon after their +arrival. They were isolated in a small house located in the center of a +field, while one other slave was sent there to nurse them. All three +were burned to death when their hut was destroyed by fire.</p> + +<p>In case of death, even on a neighboring place, all work was suspended +until the dead was buried.</p> + +<p>Sunday, the only day of rest, was often spent in attending religious +services, and because these were irregularly held, brush arbor meetings +were common. This arbor was constructed of a brush roof supported by +posts and crude joists. The seats were usually made of small saplings +nailed to short stumps.</p> + +<p>Religion was greatly stressed and every child was christened shortly +after its birth. An adult who desired to join the church went first to +the master to obtain his permission. He was then sent to the home of a +minister who lived a short distance away at a place called Flat Rock. +Here, his confession was made and, at the next regular service, he was +formally received into the church.</p> + +<p>Courtships were brief.</p> + +<p>The "old man", who was past the age for work and only had to watch what +went on at the quarters, was usually the first to notice a budding +friendship, which he reported to the master. The couple was then +questioned and, if they consented, were married without the benefit of +clergy.</p> + +<p>Food was distributed on Monday night, and for each adult slave the +following staple products were allowed—</p> + +<pre> + Weekly ration: On Sunday: +3-1/2 lbs. meat One qt. syrup +1 pk. of meal One gal. flour +1 gal. shorts One cup lard +</pre> + +<p>Vegetables, milk, etc., could be obtained at the "big house", but fresh +meat and chickens were never given. The desire for these delicacies +often overcame the slaves' better natures, and some frequently went +night foraging for small shoats and chickens.</p> + +<p>The "old man" kept account of the increase or decrease in live stock and +poultry and reported anything missing each day. When suspicion fell on a +visitor of the previous night, this information was given to his master, +who then searched the accused's dinner pail and cabin. If meat was found +in either the culprit was turned over to his accuser for punishment. +After being whipped, he was forbidden for three months to visit the +plantation where he had committed the theft.</p> + +<p>One of Della's grandmother's favorite recipes was made of dried beef and +wheat. The wheat was brought from the field and husked by hand. This, +added to the rapidly boiling beef, was cooked until a mush resulted, +which was then eaten from wooden bowls with spoons of the same material. +White plates were never used by the slaves.</p> + +<p>Cloth for clothing was woven on the place. Della's grandmother did most +of the spinning, and she taught her child to spin when she was so small +that she had to stand on a raised plank to reach the wheel. After the +cloth was spun it was dyed with dye made from "shoemake" (sumac) leaves, +green walnuts, reeds, and copperas. One person cut and others sewed. The +dresses for women were straight, like slips, and the garments of the +small boys resembled night shirts. If desired, a bias fold of +contrasting colour was placed at the waist line or at the bottom of +dresses. The crudely made garments were starched with a solution of +flour or meal and water which was strained and then boiled.</p> + +<p>As a small child Della remembers hearing a peculiar knock on the door +during the night, and a voice which replied to queries, "No one to hurt +you, but keep that red flannel in your mouth. Have you plenty to eat? +Don't worry; you'll be free." No one would ever tell, if they knew, to +whom this voice belonged.</p> + +<p>Just before the beginning of the Civil War a comet appeared which was so +bright that the elder people amused themselves by sitting on the rail +fence and throwing pins upon the ground where the reflection was cast. +The children scrambled madly to see who could find the most pins.</p> + +<p>During the early part of the war Mr. Ross fought with the Confederates, +leaving his young son, Robert, in charge of his affairs. The young +master was very fond of horses and his favorite horse—"Bill"—was +trained to do tricks. One of these was to lie down when tickled on his +flanks. The Yankees visited the plantation and tried to take this horse. +Robert, who loved him dearly, refused to dismount, and as they were +about to shoot the horse beneath him, the slaves began to plead. They +explained that the boy was kind to every one and devoted to animals, +after which explanation, he was allowed to keep his horse.</p> + +<p>The breastworks at Savannah required many laborers to complete their +construction, and as the commanders desired to save the strength of +their soldiers, slave labor was solicited. Two slaves from each nearby +plantation were sent to work for a limited number of days. The round +trip from the Ross plantation required seven days.</p> + +<p>Nearly every man had a family and when they returned from these long +trips they drove to the quarters and fell on their knees to receive the +welcome caresses of their small children.</p> + +<p>Recreational facilities were not provided and slave children had little +knowledge of how to play. Their two main amusements were building frog +houses and sliding down a steep bank on a long board. One day, as they +played up and down the highway, building frog houses at irregular +intervals, little Della looked up and saw a group of Yankee calvarymen +approaching. She screamed and began running and so attracted the +attention of Mr. Ross who was at home on a furlough.</p> + +<p>He saw the men in time to find a hiding place. Meanwhile, the soldiers +arrived and the leader, springing from his horse, snatched Della up and +spanked her soundly for giving the alarm, as they had hoped to take her +master by surprise. Della said this was the first "white slap" she ever +received.</p> + +<p>Some of the Yankees entered the house, tore up the interior, and threw +the furniture out doors. Another group robbed the smokehouse and smashed +so many barrels of syrup that it ran in a stream through the yard. They +carried much of the meat off with them and gave the remainder to the +slaves. Chickens were caught, dressed, and fried on the spot as each +soldier carried his own frying pan, and a piece of flint rock and a +sponge with which to make a fire. The men were skilled in dressing fowls +and cleaned them in a few strokes.</p> + +<p>When they had eaten as much as they desired, a search for the corral was +made, but the mules were so well hidden that they were not able to find +them. Della's father's hands were tied behind him and he was then forced +to show them the hiding place. These fine beasts, used for plowing, were +named by the slaves who worked them. Characteristic names were: "Jule", +"Pigeon", "Little Deal", "Vic", (the carriage horse), "Streaked leg," +"Kicking Kid", "Sore-back Janie". Every one was carried off.</p> + +<p>This raid took place on Christmas Eve and the slaves were frantic as +they had been told that Yankees were mean people, especially was Sherman +so pictured.</p> + +<p>When Sherman had gone, Mr. Ross came from his hiding place in the "cool +well" and spoke to his slaves. To the elder ones he said, "I saw you +give away my meat and mules."</p> + +<p>"Master, we were afraid. We didn't want to do it, but we were afraid not +to."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand that you could not help yourselves." He then turned +to the children, saying, "Bless all of you, but to little Della, I owe +my life. From now on she shall never be whipped, and she shall have a +home of her own for life."</p> + +<p>She shook with laughter as she said, "Master thought I screamed to warn +him and I was only frightened."</p> + +<p>True to his word, after freedom he gave her a three-acre plot of land +upon which he built a house and added a mule, buggy, cow, hogs, etc. +Della lived there until after her marriage, when she had to leave with +her husband. She later lost her home. Having been married twice, she now +bears the name of Briscoe, her last husband's name.</p> + +<p>When the family had again settled down to the ordinary routine, a new +plague, body lice, said to have been left by the invaders, made life +almost unbearable for both races.</p> + +<p>Della now lives with her granddaughter, for she has been unable to work +for twenty-eight years. Macon's Department of Public Welfare assists in +contributing to her livelihood, as the granddaughter can only pay the +room rent.</p> + +<p>She does not know her age but believes that she is above ninety. Her +keen old eyes seemed to look back into those bygone days as she said, "I +got along better den dan I eber hab since. We didn't know nuthin 'bout +jail houses, paying for our burial grounds, and de rent. We had plenty +o' food."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BrooksGeorge"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br> +Ex. Slv. #11]<br> +<br> +GEORGE BROOKS, EX-SLAVE<br> +Date of birth: Year unknown (See below)<br> +Place of birth: In Muscogee County, near Columbus, Georgia<br> +Present Residence: 502 East 8th Street, Columbus, Georgia<br> +Interviewed: August 4, 1936<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>This old darky, probably the oldest ex-slave in West Georgia, claims to +be 112 years of age. His colored friends are also of the opinion that he +is fully that old or older—but, since none of his former (two) owners' +people can be located, and no records concerning his birth can be found, +his definite age cannot be positively established.</p> + +<p>"Uncle" George claims to have worked in the fields, "some", the year the +"stars fell"—1833.</p> + +<p>His original owner was Mr. Henry Williams—to whom he was greatly +attached. As a young man, he was—for a number of years—Mr. Williams' +personal body-servant. After Mr. Williams' death—during the 1850's, +"Uncle" George was sold to a white man—whose name he doesn't +remember—of Dadeville, Alabama, with whom he subsequently spent five +months in the Confederate service.</p> + +<p>One of "Uncle" George's stories is to the effect that he once left a +chore he was doing for his second "Marster's" wife, "stepped" to a +nearby well to get a drink of water and, impelled by some strange, +irresistible "power", "jes kep on walkin 'til he run slap-dab inter de +Yankees", who corraled him and kept him for three months.</p> + +<p>Still another story he tells is that of his being sold after freedom! +According to his version of this incident, he was sold along with two +bales of cotton in the fall of 1865—either the cotton being sold and he +"thrown in" with it, or vice versa—he doesn't know which, but he +<i>does know</i> that he and the cotton were "sold" together! And very +soon after this transaction occurred, the seller was clapped in jail! +Then, "somebody" (he doesn't remember who) gave him some money, put him +on a stage-coach at night and "shipped" him to Columbus, where he +learned that he was a free man and has since remained.</p> + +<p>"Uncle" George has been married once and is the father of several +children. His wife, however, died fifty-odd years ago and he knows +nothing of the whereabouts of his children—doesn't even know whether or +not any of them are living, having lost "all track o'all kin fokes too +long ago to tawk about."</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, "Uncle" George's mind is clouded and his memory badly +impaired, otherwise his life story would perhaps be quite interesting. +For more than twenty years, he has been supported and cared for by kind +hearted members of his race, who say that they intend to continue "to +look after the old man 'til he passes on."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BrownEaster"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +EASTER BROWN<br> +1020 S. Lumpkin Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written By:<br> +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby<br> +<br> +Edited By:<br> +John N. Booth<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +WPA Residency No. 7</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Aunt" Easter Brown, 78 years old, was sweeping chips into a basket out +in front of her cabin. "Go right in honey, I'se comin' soon as I git +some chips for my fire. Does I lak to talk 'bout when I wuz a chile? I +sho does. I warn't but 4 years old when de war wuz over, but I knows all +'bout it."</p> + +<p>"I wuz born in Floyd County sometime in October. My pa wuz Erwin and my +ma wuz Liza Lorie. I don't know whar dey come from, but I knows dey wuz +from way down de country somewhars. Dere wuz six of us chilluns. All of +us wuz sold. Yessum, I wuz sold too. My oldest brother wuz named Jim. I +don't riccolec' de others, dey wuz all sold off to diffunt parts of de +country, and us never heared from 'em no more. My brother, my pa and me +wuz sold on de block in Rome, Georgia. Marster Frank Glenn buyed me. I +wuz so little dat when dey bid me off, dey had to hold me up so folkses +could see me. I don't 'member my real ma and pa, and I called Marster +'pa' an' Mist'ess 'ma', 'til I wuz 'bout 'leven years old.</p> + +<p>"I don't know much 'bout slave quarters, or what dey had in 'em, 'cause +I wuz raised in de house wid de white folkses. I does know beds in de +quarters wuz lak shelves. Holes wuz bored in de side of de house, two in +de wall and de floor, and poles runnin' from de wall and de floor, +fastened together wid pegs; on 'em dey put planks, and cross de foot of +de bed dey put a plank to hold de straw and keep de little 'uns from +fallin' out.</p> + +<p>"What did us have to eat? Lordy mussy! Mist'ess! us had everything. +Summertime dere wuz beans, cabbage, squashes, irish 'tatoes, roas'en +ears, 'matoes, cucumbers, cornbread, and fat meat, but de Nigger boys, +dey wuz plum fools 'bout hog head. In winter dey et sweet 'tatoes, +collards, turnips and sich, but I et lak de white folkses. I sho does +lak 'possums and rabbits. Yessum, some of de slaves had gyardens, some +of 'em sholy did.</p> + +<p>"No'm, us Niggers never wore no clothes in summer, I means us little +'uns. In de winter us wore cotton clothes, but us went barefoots. My +uncle Sam and some of de other Niggers went 'bout wid dey foots popped +open from de cold. Marster had 110 slaves on his plantation.</p> + +<p>"Mist'ess wuz good to me. Pa begged her to buy me, 'cause she wuz his +young Mist'ess and he knowed she would be good to me, but Marster wuz +real cruel. He'd beat his hoss down on his knees and he kilt one of 'em. +He whupped de Niggers when dey didn't do right. Niggers is lak dis; dey +wuz brought to dis here land wild as bucks, and dey is lak chicken +roosters in a pen. You just have to make 'em 'have deyselves. Its lak +dat now; if dey'd 'have deyselves, white folkses would let 'em be.</p> + +<p>"Dere warn't no jails in dem days. Dey had a gyuard house what dey +whupped 'em in, and Mondays and Tuesdays wuz set aside for de whuppin's, +when de Niggers what had done wrong got so many lashes, 'cordin' to what +devilment dey had been doin'. De overseer didn't do de whuppin', Marster +done dat. Dem patterrollers wuz sompin else. Mankind! If dey ketched a +Nigger out atter dark widout no pass dey'd most nigh tear de hide offen +his back.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what dat overseer done one night. Some enemy of Marster's +sot fire to de big frame house whar him and Mist'ess and de chillun +lived. De overseer seed it burnin', and run and clam up de tree what wuz +close to de house, went in de window and got Marster's two little gals +out dat burnin' house 'fore you could say scat. Dat sho fixed de +overseer wid old Marster. Atter dat Marster give him a nice house to +live in but Marster's fine old house sho wuz burnt to de ground.</p> + +<p>"De cyarriage driver wuz uncle Sam. He drove de chillun to school, tuk +Marster and Mist'ess to church, and done de wuk 'round de house; such +as, totin' in wood, keepin' de yards and waitin' on de cook. No'm us +slaves didn't go to church; de Niggers wuz so wore out on Sundays, dey +wuz glad to stay home and rest up, 'cause de overseer had 'em up way +'fore day and wuked 'em 'til long atter dark. On Saddays dey had to wash +deir clothes and git ready for de next week. Some slaves might a had +special things give to 'em on Christmas and New Years Day, but not on +Marster's plantation; dey rested up a day and dat wuz all. I heared tell +dey had Christmas fixin's and doin's on other plantations, but not on +Marse Frank's place. All corn shuckin's, cotton pickin's, log rollin's, +and de lak was when de boss made 'em do it, an' den dere sho warn't no +extra sompin t'eat.</p> + +<p>"De onliest game I ever played wuz to take my doll made out of a stick +wid a rag on it and play under a tree. When I wuz big 'nough to wuk, +all I done wuz to help de cook in de kitchen and play wid old Mist'ess' +baby.</p> + +<p>"Some of de Niggers runned away. Webster, Hagar, Atney, an' Jane runned +away a little while 'fore freedom. Old Marster didn't try to git 'em +back, 'cause 'bout dat time de war wuz over. Marster and Mist'ess sho +looked atter de Niggers when dey got sick for dey knowed dat if a Nigger +died dat much property wuz lost. Yessum, dey had a doctor sometime, but +de most dey done wuz give 'em hoarhound, yellow root and tansy. When a +baby wuz cuttin' teeth, dey biled ground ivy and give 'em.</p> + +<p>"Louisa, de cook wuz married in de front yard. All I 'members 'bout it +wuz dat all de Niggers gathered in de yard, Louisa had on a white dress; +de white folkses sho fixed Louisa up, 'cause she wuz deir cook.</p> + +<p>"Jus' lemme tell you 'bout my weddin' I buyed myself a dress and had it +laid out on de bed, den some triflin', no 'count Nigger wench tuk and +stole it 'fore I had a chance to git married in it. I had done buyed dat +dress for two pupposes; fust to git married in it, and second to be +buried in. I stayed on wid Old Miss 'til I got 'bout grown and den I +drifted to Athens. When I married my fust husband, Charlie Montgomery, I +wuz wukkin' for Mrs. W.R. Booth, and us married in her dinin' room. +Charlie died out and I married James Hoshier. Us had one baby. Hit wuz a +boy. James an' our boy is both daid now and I'se all by myself.</p> + +<p>"What de slaves done when dey wuz told dat dey wuz free? I wuz too +little to know what dey meant by freedom, but Old Marster called de +overseer and told him to ring de bell for de Niggers to come to de big +house. He told 'em dey wuz free devils and dey could go whar dey pleased +and do what dey pleased—dey could stay wid him if dey wanted to. Some +stayed wid Old Marster and some went away. I never seed no yankee +sojers. I heared tell of 'em comin' but I never seed none of 'em.</p> + +<p>"No'm I don't know nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Booker T. Washington +or Jefferson Davis. I didn't try to ketch on to any of 'em. As for +slavery days; some of de Niggers ought to be free and some oughtn't to +be. I don't know nuttin much 'bout it. I had a good time den, and I gits +on pretty good now.</p> + +<p>"How come I jined de church? Well I felt lak it wuz time for me to live +better and git ready for a home in de next world. Chile you sho has axed +me a pile of questions, and I has sho 'joyed tellin' you what I knowed."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BrownJulia"></a> +<h3>JULIA BROWN (Aunt Sally)<br> +710 Griffin Place, N.W.<br> +Atlanta, Ga.<br> +July 25, 1936[TR:?]<br> +<br> +by<br> +Geneva Tonsill</h3> + +<p>[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.]</p> +<br> + +<p><b>AH ALWAYS HAD A HARD TIME</b></p> + +<p>Aunt Sally rocked back and forth incessantly. She mopped her wrinkled +face with a dirty rag as she talked. "Ah wuz born fo' miles frum +Commerce, Georgia, and wuz thirteen year ole at surrender. Ah belonged +to the Nash fambly—three ole maid sisters. My mama belonged to the +Nashes and my papa belonged to General Burns; he wuz a officer in the +war. There wuz six of us chilluns, Lucy, Malvina, Johnnie, Callie, Joe +and me. We didn't stay together long, as we wuz give out to different +people. The Nashes didn't believe in selling slaves but we wuz known as +their niggers. They sold one once 'cause the other slaves said they +would kill him 'cause he had a baby by his own daughter. So to keep him +frum bein' kilt, they sold him.</p> + +<p>"My mama died the year of surrender. Ah didn't fare well after her +death, Ah had sicha hard time. Ah wuz give to the Mitchell fambly and +they done every cruel thing they could to me. Ah slept on the flo' nine +years, winter and summer, sick or well. Ah never wore anything but a +cotton dress, a shimmy and draw's. That 'oman didn't care what happened +to the niggers. Sometimes she would take us to church. We'd walk to the +church house. Ah never went nowhere else. That 'oman took delight in +sellin' slaves. She'd lash us with a cowhide whip. Ah had to shift fur +mahself.</p> + +<p>"They didn't mind the slaves matin', but they wanted their niggers to +marry only amongst them on their place. They didn't 'low 'em to mate +with other slaves frum other places. When the wimmen had babies they wuz +treated kind and they let 'em stay in. We called it 'lay-in', just about +lak they do now. We didn't go to no horspitals as they do now, we jest +had our babies and had a granny to catch 'em. We didn't have all the +pain-easin' medicines then. The granny would put a rusty piece of tin +or a ax under the mattress and this would ease the pains. The granny put +a ax under my mattress once. This wuz to cut off the after-pains and it +sho did too, honey. We'd set up the fifth day and after the 'layin-in' +time wuz up we wuz 'lowed to walk out doors and they tole us to walk +around the house jest once and come in the house. This wuz to keep us +frum takin' a 'lapse.</p> + +<p>"We wuzn't 'lowed to go around and have pleasure as the folks does +today. We had to have passes to go wherever we wanted. When we'd git out +there wuz a bunch of white men called the 'patty rollers'. They'd come +in and see if all us had passes and if they found any who didn't have a +pass he wuz whipped; give fifty or more lashes—and they'd count them +lashes. If they said a hundred you got a hundred. They wuz somethin' lak +the Klu Klux. We wuz 'fraid to tell our masters about the patty rollers +because we wuz skeered they'd whip us again, fur we wuz tole not to +tell. They'd sing a little ditty. Ah wish Ah could remember the words, +but it went somethin' lak this:</p> + +<pre> +'Run, Niggah, run, de Patty Rollers'll git you, + Run Niggah, ran, you'd bettah git away.' +</pre> + +<p>"We wuz 'fraid to go any place.</p> + +<p>"Slaves ware treated in most cases lak cattle. A man went about the +country buyin' up slaves lak buyin' up cattle and the like, and he wuz +called a 'speculator', then he'd sell 'em to the highest bidder. Oh! it +wuz pitiful to see chil'en taken frum their mothers' breast, mothers +sold, husbands sold frum wives. One 'oman he wuz to buy had a baby, and +of course the baby come befo' he bought her and he wouldn't buy the +baby; said he hadn't bargained to buy the baby too, and he jest +wouldn't. My uncle wuz married but he wuz owned by one master and his +wife wuz owned by another. He wuz 'lowed to visit his wife on Wednesday +and Saturday, that's the onliest time he could git off. He went on +Wednesday and when he went back on Saturday his wife had been bought by +the speculator and he never did know where she wuz.</p> + +<p>"Ah worked hard always. Honey, you can't 'magine what a hard time Ah +had. Ah split rails lak a man. How did Ah do it? Ah used a huge glut, +and a iron wedge drove into the wood with a maul, and this would split +the wood.</p> + +<p>"Ah help spin the cotton into thread fur our clothes. The thread wuz +made into big broaches—four broaches made four cuts, or one hank. After +the thread wuz made we used a loom to weave the cloth. We had no sewin' +machine—had to sew by hand. My mistress had a big silver bird and she +would always catch the cloth in the bird's bill and this would hold it +fur her to sew.</p> + +<p>"Ah didn't git to handle money when I wuz young. Ah worked frum sunup to +sundown. We never had overseers lak some of the slaves. We wuz give so +much work to do in a day and if the white folks went off on a vacation +they would give us so much work to do while they wuz gone and we better +have all of that done too when they'd come home. Some of the white folks +wuz very kind to their slaves. Some did not believe in slavery and some +freed them befo' the war and even give 'em land and homes. Some would +give the niggers meal, lard and lak that. They made me hoe when Ah wuz a +chile and Ah'd keep rat up with the others, 'cause they'd tell me that +if Ah got behind a run-a-way nigger would git me and split open my head +and git the milk out'n it. Of course Ah didn't know then that wuzn't +true—Ah believed everything they tole me and that made me work the +harder.</p> + +<p>"There wuz a white man, Mister Jim, that wuz very mean to the slaves. +He'd go 'round and beat 'em. He'd even go to the little homes, tear down +the chimneys and do all sorts of cruel things. The chimneys wuz made of +mud 'n straw 'n sticks; they wuz powerful strong too. Mister Jim wuz +jest a mean man, and when he died we all said God got tired of Mister +Jim being so mean and kilt him. When they laid him out on the coolin' +board, everybody wuz settin' 'round, moanin' over his death, and all of +a sudden Mister Jim rolled off'n the coolin' board, and sich a runnin' +and gittin' out'n that room you never saw. We said Mister Jim wuz tryin' +to run the niggers and we wuz 'fraid to go about at night. Ah believed +it then; now that they's 'mbalmin' Ah know that must have been gas and +he wuz purgin', fur they didn't know nothin' 'bout 'mbalmin' then. They +didn't keep dead folks out'n the ground long in them days.</p> + +<p>"Doctors wuzn't so plentiful then. They'd go 'round in buggies and on +hosses. Them that rode on a hoss had saddle pockets jest filled with +little bottles and lots of them. He'd try one medicine and if it didn't +do not [TR: no?] good he'd try another until it did do good and when the +doctor went to see a sick pusson he'd stay rat there until he wuz +better. He didn't jest come in and write a 'scription fur somebody to +take to a drug store. We used herbs a lots in them days. When a body had +dropsy we'd set him in a tepid bath made of mullein leaves. There wuz a +jimson weed we'd use fur rheumatism, and fur asthma we'd use tea made of +chestnut leaves. We'd git the chestnut leaves, dry them in the sun jest +lak tea leaves, and we wouldn't let them leaves git wet fur nothin' in +the world while they wuz dryin'. We'd take poke salad roots, boil them +and then take sugar and make a syrup. This wuz the best thing fur +asthma. It was known to cure it too. Fur colds and sich we used +ho'hound; made candy out'n it with brown sugar. We used a lots of rock +candy and whiskey fur colds too. They had a remedy that they used fur +consumption—take dry cow manure, make a tea of this and flavor it with +mint and give it to the sick pusson. We didn't need many doctors then +fur we didn't have so much sickness in them days, and nachelly they +didn't die so fast; folks lived a long time then. They used a lot of +peachtree leaves too for fever, and when the stomach got upsot we'd +crush the leaves, pour water over them and wouldn't let them drink any +other kind of water 'till they wuz better. Ah still believes in them ole +ho'made medicines too and ah don't believe in so many doctors.</p> + +<p>"We didn't have stoves plentiful then: just ovens we set in the +fireplace. Ah's toted a many a armful of bark—good ole hickory bark to +cook with. We'd cook light bread—both flour and corn. The yeast fur +this bread wuz made frum hops. Coals of fire wuz put on top of the oven +and under the bottom, too. Everything wuz cooked on coals frum a wood +fire—coffee and all. Wait, let me show you my coffee tribet. Have you +ever seen one? Well, Ah'll show you mine." Aunt Sally got up and hobbled +to the kitchen to get the trivet. After a few moments search she came +back into the room.</p> + +<p>"No, it's not there. Ah guess it's been put in the basement. Ah'll show +it to you when you come back. It's a rack made of iron that the pot is +set on befo' puttin' it on the fire coals. The victuals wuz good in them +days; we got our vegetables out'n the garden in season and didn't have +all the hot-house vegetables. Ah don't eat many vegetables now unless +they come out'n the garden and I know it. Well, as I said, there wuz +racks fitted in the fireplace to put pots on. Once there wuz a big pot +settin' on the fire, jest bilin' away with a big roast in it. As the +water biled, the meat turned over and over, comin' up to the top and +goin' down again, Ole Sandy, the dog, come in the kitchen. He sot there +a while and watched that meat roll over and over in the pot, and all of +a sudden-like he grabbed at that meat and pulls it out'n the pot. +'Course he couldn't eat it 'cause it wuz hot and they got the meat befo' +he et it. The kitchen wuz away frum the big house, so the victuals wuz +cooked and carried up to the house. Ah'd carry it up mahse'f. We +couldn't eat all the different kinds of victuals the white folks et and +one mornin' when I was carryin' the breakfast to the big house we had +waffles that wuz a pretty golden brown and pipin' hot. They wuz a +picture to look at and ah jest couldn't keep frum takin' one, and that +wuz the hardest waffle fur me to eat befo' I got to the big house I ever +saw. Ah jest couldn't git rid of that waffle 'cause my conscience +whipped me so.</p> + +<p>"They taught me to do everything. Ah'd use battlin' blocks and battlin' +sticks to wash the clothes; we all did. The clothes wuz taken out of the +water an put on the block and beat with a battlin' stick, which was made +like a paddle. On wash days you could hear them battlin' sticks poundin' +every which-away. We made our own soap, used ole meat and grease, and +poured water over wood ashes which wuz kept in a rack-like thing and the +water would drip through the ashes. This made strong lye. We used a lot +'o sich lye, too, to bile with.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes the slaves would run away. Their masters wuz mean to them +that caused them to run away. Sometimes they would live in caves. How +did they get along? Well, chile, they got along all right—what with +other people slippin' things in to 'em. And, too, they'd steal hogs, +chickens, and anything else they could git their hands on. Some white +people would help, too, fur there wuz some white people who didn't +believe in slavery. Yes, they'd try to find them slaves that run away +and if they wuz found they'd be beat or sold to somebody else. My +grandmother run away frum her master. She stayed in the woods and she +washed her clothes in the branches. She used sand fur soap. Yes, chile, +I reckon they got 'long all right in the caves. They had babies in thar +and raised 'em too.</p> + +<p>"Ah stayed with the Mitchells 'til Miss Hannah died. Ah even helped to +lay her out. Ah didn't go to the graveyard though. Ah didn't have a home +after she died and Ah wandered from place to place, stayin' with a white +fambly this time and then a nigger fambly the next time. Ah moved to +Jackson County and stayed with a Mister Frank Dowdy. Ah didn't stay +there long though. Then Ah moved to Winder, Georgia. They called it 'Jug +Tavern' in them days, 'cause jugs wuz made there. Ah married Green +Hinton in Winder. Got along well after marryin' him. He farmed fur a +livin' and made a good livin' fur me and the eight chilluns, all born in +Winder. The chilluns wuz grown nearly when he died and wuz able to help +me with the smalles ones. Ah got along all right after his death and +didn't have sich a hard time raisin' the chilluns. Then Ah married Jim +Brown and moved to Atlanta. Jim farmed at first fur a livin' and then he +worked on the railroad—the Seaboard. He helped to grade the first +railroad track for that line. He wuz a sand-dryer."</p> + +<p>Aunt Sally broke off her story here. "Lord, honey, Ah got sich a pain in +mah stomach Ah don't believe Ah can go on. It's a gnawin' kind of pain. +Jest keeps me weak all over." Naturally I suggested that we complete the +story at another time. So I left, promisin' to return in a few days. A +block from the house I stopped in a store to order some groceries for +Aunt Sally. The proprietress, a Jewish woman, spoke up when I gave the +delivery address. She explained in broken English that she knew Aunt +Sally.</p> + +<p>"I tink you vas very kind to do dis for Aunt Sally. She neets it. I +often gif her son food. He's very old and feeble. He passed here +yesterday and he look so wasted and hungry. His stomick look like it vas +drawn in, you know. I gif him some fresh hocks. I know dey could not eat +all of them in a day and I'm afrait it von't be goof [TR: goot? or +good?] for dem today. I vas trained to help people in neet. It's pert of +my religion. See, if ve sit on de stritcar and an olt person comes in +and finds no seat, ve get up and gif him one. If ve see a person loaded +vid bundles and he iss old and barely able to go, ve gif a hand. See, ve +Jews—you colored—but ve know no difference. Anyvon neeting help, ve +gif."</p> + +<p>A couple of days later I was back at Aunt Sally's. I had brought some +groceries for the old woman. I knocked a long time on the front door, +and, getting no answer, I picked my way through the rank growth of weeds +and grass surrounding the house and went around to the back door. It +opened into the kitchen, where Aunt Sally and her son were having +breakfast. The room was small and dark and I could hardly see the +couple, but Aunt Sally welcomed me. "Lawd, honey, you come right on in. +I tole John I heard somebody knockin' at the do'."</p> + +<p>"You been hearin' things all mornin'," John spoke up. He turned to me. +"You must've been thinkin' about mamma just when we started eatin' +breakfast because she asked me did I hear somebody call her. I tole her +the Lawd Jesus is always a-callin' poor niggers, but she said it sounded +like the lady's voice who was here the other day. Well I didn't hear +anything and I tole her she mus' be hearin' things."</p> + +<p>I'd put the bag of groceries on the table unobtrusively, but Aunt Sally +wasn't one to let such gifts pass unnoticed. Eagerly she tore the bag +open and began pulling out the packages. "Lawd bless you, chile, and He +sho will bless you! I feels rich seein' what you brought me. Jest look +at this—Lawdy mercy!—rolls, butter, milk, balogny...! Oh, this +balogny, jest looky there! You must a knowed what I wanted!" She was +stuffing it in her mouth as she talked. "And these aigs...! Honey, you +knows God is goin' to bless you and let you live long. Ah'se goin' to +cook one at a time. And Ah sho been wantin' some milk. Ah'se gonna cook +me a hoecake rat now."</p> + +<p>She went about putting the things in little cans and placing them on +shelves or in the dilapidated little cupboard that stood in a corner. I +sat down near the door and listened while she rambled on.</p> + +<p>"Ah used to say young people didn't care bout ole folks but Ah is takin' +that back now. Ah jest tole my son the other day that its turned round, +the young folks thinks of the ole and tries to help 'em and the ole +folks don't try to think of each other; some of them, they is too mean. +Ah can't understand it; Ah jest know I heard you call me when Ah started +to eat, and tole my son so. Had you been to the do' befo'?" She talked +on not waiting for a reply. "Ah sho did enjoy the victuals you sent day +befo' yistidy. They send me surplus food frum the gove'nment but Ah +don't like what they send. The skim milk gripes me and Ah don't like +that yellow meal. A friend brought me some white meal t'other day. And +that wheat cereal they send! Ah eats it with water when Ah don't have +milk and Ah don't like it but when you don't have nothin' else you got +to eat what you have. They send me 75¢ ever two weeks but that don't go +very fur. Ah ain't complainin' fur Ah'm thankful fur what Ah git.</p> + +<p>"They send a girl to help me around the house, too. She's frum the +housekeepin' department. She's very nice to me. Yes, she sho'ly is a +sweet girl, and her foreman is sweet too. She comes in now 'n then to +see me and see how the girl is gittin' along. She washes, too. Ah's been +on relief a long time. Now when Ah first got on it wuz when they first +started givin' me. They give me plenty of anything Ah asked fur and my +visitor wuz Mrs. Tompkins. She wuz so good to me. Well they stopped that +and then the DPW (Department of Public Welfare) took care of me. When +they first started Ah got more than I do now and they've cut me down +'till Ah gits only a mighty little.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ah wuz talkin' about my husband when you wuz here t'other day. He +wuz killed on the railroad. After he moved here he bought this home. +Ah'se lived here twenty years. Jim wuz comin' in the railroad yard one +day and stepped off the little engine they used for the workers rat in +the path of the L. & M. train. He wuz cut up and crushed to pieces. He +didn't have a sign of a head. They used a rake to git up the pieces they +did git. A man brought a few pieces out here in a bundle and Ah wouldn't +even look at them. Ah got a little money frum the railroad but the +lawyer got most of it. He brought me a few dollars out and tole me not +to discuss it with anyone nor tell how much Ah got. Ah tried to git some +of the men that worked with him to tell me just how it all happened, but +they wouldn't talk, and it wuz scand'lous how them niggers held their +peace and wouldn't tell me anything. The boss man came out later but he +didn't seem intrusted in it at all, so Ah got little or nothing fur his +death. The lawyer got it fur hisse'f.</p> + +<p>"All my chilluns died 'cept my son and he is ole and sick and can't do +nothin' fur me or hisse'f. He gets relief too, 75¢ every two weeks. He +goes 'round and people gives him a little t'eat. He has a hard time +tryin' to git 'long.</p> + +<p>"Ah had a double bed in t'other room and let a woman have it so she +could git some of the delegates to the Baptist World Alliance and she +wuz goin' to pay me fur lettin' her use the bed, but she didn't git +anybody 'cept two. They come there on Friday and left the next day. She +wuz tole that they didn't act right 'bout the delegates and lots of +people went to the expense to prepare fur them and didn't git a one. Ah +wuz sorry, for Ah intended to use what she paid me fur my water bill. Ah +owes $3.80 and had to give my deeds to my house to a lady to pay the +water bill fur me and it worries me 'cause Ah ain't got no money to pay +it, fur this is all Ah got and Ah hates to loose my house. Ah wisht it +wuz some way to pay it. Ah ain't been able to do fur mahse'f in many +years now, and has to depend on what others gives me.</p> + +<p>"Tell you mo' about the ole times? Lawd, honey, times has changed so +frum when Ah was young. You don't hear of haints as you did when I +growed up. The Lawd had to show His work in miracles 'cause we didn't +have learnin' in them days as they has now. And you may not believe it +but them things happened. Ah knows a old man what died, and after his +death he would come to our house where he always cut wood, and at night +we could hear a chain bein' drug along in the yard, jest as if a big +log-chain wuz bein' pulled by somebody. It would drag on up to the +woodpile and stop, then we could hear the thump-thump of the ax on the +wood. The woodpile was near the chimney and it would chop-chop on, then +stop and we could hear the chain bein' drug back the way it come. This +went on fur several nights until my father got tired and one night after +he heard it so long, the chop-chop, papa got mad and hollered at the +haint, 'G---- D---- you, go to hell!!!' and that spirit went off and +never did come back!</p> + +<p>"We'd always know somebody wuz goin' to die when we heard a owl come to +a house and start screechin'. We always said, 'somebody is gwine to +die!' Honey, you don't hear it now and it's good you don't fur it would +skeer you to death nearly. It sounded so mo'nful like and we'd put the +poker or the shovel in the fire and that always run him away; it burned +his tongue out and he couldn't holler no more. If they'd let us go out +lak we always wanted to, Ah don't 'spects we'd a-done it, 'cause we wuz +too skeered. Lawdy, chile, them wuz tryin' days. Ah sho is glad God let +me live to see these 'uns.</p> + +<p>"Ah tried to git the ole-age pension fur Ah sho'ly needed it and wuz +'titled to it too. Sho wuz. But that visitor jest wouldn't let me go +through. She acted lak that money belonged to her. Ah 'plied when it +first come out and shoulda been one of the first to get one. Ah worried +powerful much at first fur Ah felt how much better off Ah'd be. Ah +wouldn't be so dependent lak Ah'm is now. Ah 'spects you know that +'oman. She is a big black 'oman—wuz named Smith at first befo' she +married. She is a Johns now. She sho is a mean 'oman. She jest wouldn't +do no way. Ah even tole her if she let me go through and Ah got my +pension Ah would give her some of the money Ah got, but she jest didn't +do no way. She tole me if Ah wuz put on Ah'd get no more than Ah +<i>wuz</i> gittin'. Ah sho believes them thats on gits more'n 75¢ every +two weeks. Ah sho had a hard time and a roughety road to travel with her +my visitor until they sent in the housekeeper. Fur that head 'oman jest +went rat out and got me some clothes. Everything Ah needed. When Ah tole +her how my visitor wuz doin' me she jest went out and come rat back with +all the things Ah needed. Ah don't know why my visitor done me lak that. +Ah said at first it wuz because Ah had this house but honey what could +Ah do with a house when Ah wuz hongry and not able to work. Ah always +worked hard. 'Course Ah didn't git much fur it but Ah lak to work fur +what Ah gits."</p> + +<p>Aunt Sally was beginning to repeat herself and I began to suspect she +was talking just to please me. So I arose to go.</p> + +<p>"Lawsy mercy, chile, you sho is sweet to set here and talk to a ole +'oman lak me. Ah sho is glad you come. Ah tole my son you wuz a bundle +of sunshine and Ah felt so much better the day you left—and heah you is +again! Chile, my nose wuzn't itchin' fur nothin'! You come back to see +me real soon. Ah'se always glad to have you. And the Lawd's gonna sho go +with you fur bein' so good to me."</p> + +<p>My awareness of the obvious fulsomeness in the old woman's praise in no +way detracted from my feeling of having done a good deed. Aunt Sally was +a clever psychologist and as I carefully picked my way up the weedy path +toward the street, I felt indeed that the "Lawd" was "sho goin'" with +me.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BunchJulia"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +JULIA BUNCH, Age 85<br> +Beech Island<br> +South Carolina<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Res. 6 & 7<br> +[MAY 10 1938]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Seated in a comfortable chair in the living room of her home, Julia +Bunch, Negress of 85 years, presented a picture of the old South that +will soon pass away forever. The little 3-room house, approachable only +on foot, was situated on top of a hill. Around the clean-swept yard, +petunias, verbena, and other flowers were supplemented by a large patch +of old-fashioned ribbon grass. A little black and white kitten was +frisking about and a big red hen lazily scratched under a big shade tree +in search of food for her brood. Julia's daughter, who was washing +"white people's clothes" around the side of the house, invited us into +the living room where her mother was seated.</p> + +<p>The floors of the front porch and the living room were scrubbed +spotlessly clean. There was a rug on the floor, while a piano across one +corner, a chifforobe with mirrored doors, a bureau, and several +comfortable chairs completed the room's furnishings. A motley assortment +of pictures adorning the walls included: <i>The Virgin Mother</i>, +<i>The Sacred Bleeding Heart</i>, several large family photographs, two +pictures of the Dionne Quintuplets, and one of President Roosevelt.</p> + +<p>Julia was not very talkative, but had a shy, irresistible chuckle, and +it was this, together with her personal appearance and the tidiness of +her home that left an indelible impression on the minds of her visitors. +Her skin was very dark, and her head closely wrapped in a dark bandana, +from which this gray hair peeped at intervals forming a frame for her +face. She was clad in a black and white flowered print dress and a dark +gray sweater, from which a white ruffle was apparent at the neck. Only +two buttons of the sweater were fastened and it fell away at the waist +displaying her green striped apron. From beneath the long dress, her +feet were visible encased in men's black shoes laced with white strings. +Her ornaments consisted of a ring on her third finger, earrings, and +tortoise-rimmed glasses which plainly displayed their dime-store origin.</p> + +<p>"I b'longed to Marse Jackie Dorn of Edgefield County, I was gived to him +and his wife when dey was married for a weddin' gift. I nussed deir +three chilluns for 'em and slep' on a couch in dier bedroom 'til I was +12 years old, den 'Mancipation come. I loved 'em so and stayed wid 'em +for four years atter freedom and when I left 'em I cried and dem +chilluns cried.</p> + +<p>"Yassir, dey was sho' good white people and very rich. Dere warn't +nothin' lackin' on dat plantation. De big house was part wood and part +brick, and de Niggers lived in one or two room box houses built in rows. +Marse Jackie runned a big grist mill and done de grindin' for all de +neighbors 'round 'bout. Three or four Niggers wukked in de mill all de +time. Us runned a big farm and dairy too.</p> + +<p>"Dere was allus plenty t'eat 'cause Marster had a 2-acre gyarden and a +big fruit orchard. Two cooks was in de kitchen all de time. Dey cooked +in a big fireplace, but us had big ovens to cook de meat, biscuits and +lightbread in. Us made 'lasses and syrup and put up fruits just lak dey +does now.</p> + +<p>"My Ma was head weaver. It tuk two or three days to set up de loom +'cause dere was so many little bitty threads to be threaded up. Us had +dyes of evvy color. Yassir, us could make wool cloth too. De sheeps was +sheered once a year and de wool was manufactured up and us had a loom +wid wheels to spin it into thread.</p> + +<p>"Old Marster never whupped nobody and dere was only one man dat I kin +'member dat de overseer whupped much and he 'served it 'cause he would +run away in spite of evvything. Dey would tie him to a tree way down in +de orchard and whup him."</p> + +<p>Julia kept repeating and seemed anxious to impress upon the minds of her +visitors that her white folks were good and very rich. "Yassir, my white +folks had lots of company and visited a lot. Dey rode saddle horses and +had deir own carriages wid a high seat for de driver. Nosir, she didn't +ride wid hoopskirts—you couldn't ride wid dem on.</p> + +<p>"Us bought some shoes from de market but dere was a travelin' shoemaker +dat wukked by days for all de folks. He was a slave and didn't git no +money; it was paid to his Marster. Us had our own blacksmith dat wukked +all de time.</p> + +<p>"De slaves from all de plantations 'round come to our corn shuckin's. Us +had 'em down in de orchard. Lots of white folks comed too. Dey kilt hogs +and us had a big supper and den us danced. Nosir, dere warn't no toddy, +Marse didn't b'lieve in dat, but dey would beat up apples and us drinked +de juice. It sho' was sweet too.</p> + +<p>"Folks done dey travelin' in stages and hacks in dem days. Each of de +stages had four hosses to 'em. When de cotton and all de other things +was ready to go to market, dey would pack 'em and bring 'em to Augusta +wid mules and wagons. It would take a week and sometimes longer for de +trip, and dey would come back loaded down wid 'visions and clothes, and +dere was allus a plenty for all de Niggers too.</p> + +<p>"De white folks allus helped deir Niggers wid de weddin's and buyed deir +clothes for 'em. I 'members once a man friend of mine come to ax could +he marry one of our gals. Marster axed him a right smart of questions +and den he told him he could have her, but he mustn't knock or cuff her +'bout when he didn't want her no more, but to turn her loose.</p> + +<p>"Us had a big cemetery on our place and de white folks allus let deir +Niggers come to de fun'rals. De white folks had deir own sep'rate +buryin' ground, but all de coffins was home-made. Even de ones for de +settlement peoples was made right in our shop. Yassum, dey sung at de +fun'rals and you wants me to sing. I can't sing, but I'll try a little +bit." Then with a beautiful and peculiar rhythm only attained by the +southern Negro, she chanted:</p> + +<pre> +'Come-ye-dat-love-de-Lord<br> + And-let-your-joys-be-known.' +</pre> + +<p>"A rooster crowin' outside your door means company's comin' and a +squinch owl means sho' death. Dose are all de signs I kin 'member and I +don't 'member nothin' 'bout slavery remedies.</p> + +<p>"Yassir, dey useter give us a nickel or 10 cents sometimes so us could +buy candy from de store." Asked if she remembered patterollers she gave +her sly chuckle and said: "I sho' does. One time dey come to our house +to hunt for some strange Niggers. Dey didn't find 'em but I was so +skeered I hid de whole time dey was dar. Yassir, de Ku Kluxers raised +cain 'round dar too.</p> + +<p>"I 'members de day well when Marster told us us was free. I was glad +and didn't know what I was glad 'bout. Den 'bout 200 Yankee soldiers +come and dey played music right dar by de roadside. Dat was de fust drum +and fife music I ever heared. Lots of de Niggers followed 'em on off wid +just what dey had on. None of our Niggers went and lots of 'em stayed +right on atter freedom.</p> + +<p>"Four years atter dat, I left Edgefield and come here wid my old man. Us +had six chilluns. My old man died six years ago right dar 'cross de road +and I'se livin' here wid my daughter. I can't wuk no more. I tried to +hoe a little out dar in de field last year and I fell down and I hasn't +tried no more since.</p> + +<p>"I went once not so long ago to see my white folkses. Dey gived me a +dollar to spend for myself and I went 'cross de street and buyed me some +snuff—de fust I had had for a long time. Dey wanted to know if I had +ever got de old age pension and said dat if I had been close to dem I +would have had it 'fore now."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ButlerMarshal"></a> +<h3>[HW: Ex. Slv. #6]<br> +<br> +[HW: MARSHAL BUTLER]<br> +Subject: Slavery Days And After<br> +District: No. 1 W.P.A.<br> +Editor and Research: Joseph E. Jaffee<br> +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee<br> +<br> +[HW: (This copy has photog. attached.)]</h3> +<br> + +<p><b>Slavery Days And After</b></p> + +<p>I'se Marshal Butler, [HW: 88] years old and was born on December 25. I +knows it was Christmas Day for I was a gift to my folks. Anyhow, I'se +the only niggah that knows exactly how old he be. I disremembers the +year but you white folks can figure et out.</p> +<br> +<a name="img_MB"></a> + +<center><p> +<img src='images/mbutler.jpg' width='230' height='424' alt='Marshal Butler'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>My mammy was Harriet Butler and my pappy was John Butler and we all was +raised in Washington-Wilkes.</p> + +<p>Mammy was a Frank Collar niggah and her man was of the tribe of Ben +Butler, some miles down de road. Et was one of dem trial +marriages—they'se tried so hard to see each other but old Ben Butler +says two passes a week war enuff to see my mammy on de Collar +plantation. When de war was completed pappy came home to us. We wuz a +family of ten—four females called Sally, Liza, Ellen and Lottie and six +strong bucks called Charlie, Elisha, Marshal, Jack, Heywood and little +Johnnie, [TR: 'cuz he war' marked out] de baby.</p> + +<p>De Collar plantation wuz big and I don't know de size of it. Et must +have been big for dere war [HW: 250] niggahs aching to go to work—I +guess they mus' have been aching after de work wuz done. Marse Frank +bossed the place hisself—dere war no overseers. We raised cotton, corn, +wheat and everything we un's et. Dere war no market to bring de goods +to. Marse Frank wuz like a foodal lord of back history as my good for +nothing grandson would say—he is the one with book-larning from +Atlanta. Waste of time filling up a nigger's head with dat trash—what +that boy needs is muscle-ology—jes' look at my head and hands.</p> + +<p>My mammy was maid in de Collar's home and she had many fine +dresses—some of them were give to her by her missus. Pappy war a field +nigger for ole Ben Butler and I worked in the field when I wuz knee high +to a grasshopper. We uns et our breakfast while et war dark and we +trooped to the fields at sun-up, carrying our lunch wid us. Nothing +fancy but jes' good rib-sticking victuals. We come in from the fields at +sun-down and dere were a good meal awaiting us in de slave quarters. My +good Master give out rations every second Monday and all day Monday wuz +taken to separate the wheat from the chaff—that is—I mean the victuals +had to be organized to be marched off to de proper depository.</p> + +<p>Before we uns et we took care of our mules. I had a mule named George—I +know my mule—he was a good mule.</p> + +<pre> +"Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee, this mornin'. + Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee. + An' I hit him across the head with + the single-tree, so soon." +</pre> + +<p>Yes, Boss-man I remembers my mule.</p> + +<p>Marse Frank gave mammy four acres of ground to till for herself and us +childrens. We raised cotton—yes-sah! one bale of it and lots of garden +truck. Our boss-man give us Saturday as a holiday to work our four +acres.</p> + +<p>All the niggers worked hard—de cotton pickers had to pick 200 pounds of +cotton a day and if a nigger didn't, Marse Frank would take de nigger to +the barn and beat him with a switch. He would tell de nigger to hollow +loud as he could and de nigger would do so. Then the old Mistress would +come in and say! "What are you doing Frank?" "Beating a nigger" would be +his answer. "You let him alone, he is my nigger" and both Marse Frank +and de whipped nigger would come out of the barn. We all loved Marse and +the Mistress. No, we wuz never whipped for stealing—we never stole +anything in dose days—much.</p> + +<p>We sure froliked Saturday nights. Dat wuz our day to howl and we howled. +Our gals sure could dance and when we wuz thirsty we had lemonade and +whiskey. No sah! we never mixed [HW: no] whiskey with [HW: no] +water.—Dem dat wanted lemonade got it—de gals all liked it. Niggers +never got drunk those days—we wuz scared of the "Paddle-Rollers." +Um-m-h and swell music. A fiddle and a tin can and one nigger would beat +his hand on the can and another nigger would beat the strings on the +[HW: fiddle] [TR: 'can' marked out.] with broom straws. It wuz almos' +like a banjo. I remembers we sung "Little Liza Jane" and "Green Grows +the Willow Tree". De frolik broke up in de morning—about two +o'clock—and we all scattered to which ever way we wuz going.</p> + +<p>We put on clean clothes on Sunday and go to church. We went to de white +church. Us niggars sat on one side and de white folks sat on the other. +We wuz baptized in de church—de "pool-room" wuz right in de church.</p> + +<p>If we went visiting we had to have a pass. If nigger went out without a +pass de "Paddle-Rollers" would get him. De white folks were the +"Paddle-Rollers" and had masks on their faces. They looked like niggers +wid de devil in dere eyes. They used no paddles—nothing but straps—wid +de belt buckle fastened on.</p> + +<p>Yes sah! I got paddled. Et happened dis way. I'se left home one Thursday +to see a gal on the Palmer plantation—five miles away. Some gal! No, I +didn't get a pass—de boss was so busy! Everything was fine until my +return trip. I wuz two miles out an' three miles to go. There come de +"Paddle-Rollers" I wuz not scared—only I couldn't move. They give me +thirty licks—I ran the rest of the way home. There was belt buckles all +over me. I ate my victuals off de porch railing. Some gal! Um-m-h. Was +worth that paddlin' to see that gal—would do it over again to see Mary +de next night.</p> + +<pre> +"O Jane! love me lak you useter, + O Jane! chew me lak you useter, + Ev'y time I figger, my heart gits bigger, + Sorry, sorry, can't be yo' piper any mo". +</pre> + +<p>Um-m-mh—Some gal!</p> + +<p>We Niggers were a healthy lot. If we wuz really sick Marse Frank would +send for Doctor Fielding Ficklin of Washington. If jus' a small cold de +nigger would go to de woods and git catnip and roots and sich things. If +tummy ache—dere was de Castor oil—de white folks say children cry for +it—I done my cryin' afterwards. For sore throat dere was alum. +Everybody made their own soap—if hand was burned would use soap as a +poultice and place it on hand. Soap was made out of grease, potash and +water and boiled in a big iron pot. If yo' cut your finger use kerozene +wid a rag around it. Turpentine was for sprains and bad cuts. For +constipation use tea made from sheep droppings and if away from home de +speed of de feet do not match de speed of this remedy.</p> + +<p>No, boss, I'se not superstitious and I'se believe in no signs. I jes' +carry a rabbits' foot for luck. But I do believe the screeching of an +owl is a sign of death. I found et to be true. I had an Uncle named +Haywood. He stayed at my house and was sick for a month but wasn't so +bad off. One night uncle had a relapse and dat same night a screech owl +come along and sat on de top of de house and he—I mean the +owl,—"whooed" three times and next morning uncle got "worser" and at +eleven o'clock he died.</p> + +<p>I does believe in signs. When de rooster crows in the house it is sign +of a stranger coming. If foot itches you is going to walk on strange +land. If cow lows at house at night death will be 'round de house in +short time. If sweeping out ashes at night dat is bad luck for you is +sweeping out your best friend. Remember, your closest friend is your +worst enemy.</p> + +<p>If you want to go a courtin'—et would take a week or so to get your +gal. Sometimes some fool nigger would bring a gal a present—like +"pulled-candy" and sich like. I had no time for sich foolishness. You +would pop the question to boss man to see if he was willing for you to +marry de gal. There was no minister or boss man to marry you—no +limitations at all. Boss man would jes say: "Don't forget to bring me a +little one or two for next year" De Boss man would fix a cottage for +two and dere you was established for life.</p> + +<pre> +"If you want to go a courtin', I sho' you where to go, + Right down yonder in de house below, + Clothes all dirty an' ain't got no broom, + Ole dirty clothes all hangin' in de room. + Ask'd me to table, thought I'd take a seat, + First thing I saw was big chunk o'meat. + Big as my head, hard as a maul, + ash-cake, corn bread, bran an' all." +</pre> + +<p>Marse Frank had plenty of visitors to see him and his three gals was +excuse for anyone for miles around to come trompin' in. He enterained +mostly on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I remembers them nights for what +was left over from de feasts the niggers would eat.</p> + +<p>Dr. Fielding Ficklen [TR: earlier, 'Ficklin'], Bill Pope, Judge +Reese,—General Robert Toombs and Alexander Stephens from +Crawfordville—all would come to Marse Franks' big house.</p> + +<p>General Robert Toombs lived in Washington and had a big plantation 'bout +a mile from de city. He was a farmer and very rich. De General wuz a big +man—'bout six feet tall—heavy and had a full face. Always had +unlighted cigar in his mouth. He was the first man I saw who smoked ten +cent cigars. Niggers used to run to get "the stumps" and the lucky +nigger who got the "stump" could even sell it for a dime to the other +niggers for after all—wasn't it General Toombs' cigar? The General +never wore expensive clothes and always carried a crooked-handled +walking stick. I'se never heard him say "niggah", never heard him cuss. +He always helped us niggars—gave gave us nickles and dimes at times.</p> + +<p>Alexander Stephens wuz crippled. He was a little fellow—slim, dark hair +and blue eyes. Always used a rolling chair. Marse Frank would see him at +least once a month.</p> + +<p>I'se saw a red cloud in de west in 1860. I knew war was brewing. Marse +Frank went to war. My uncle was his man and went to war with him—Uncle +brought him back after the battle at Gettsburg—wounded. He died later. +We all loved him. My mistress and her boys ran de plantation.</p> + +<p>The blue-coats came to our place in '62 and 63. They took everythin' +that was not red-hot or nailed down. The war made no changes—we did the +same work and had plenty to eat. The war was now over. We didn't know we +wuz free until a year later. I'se stayed on with Marse Frank's boys for +twenty years. I'se did the same work fo $35 to $40 a year with rations +thrown in.</p> + +<p>I lived so long because I tells no lies, I never spent more than fifty +cents for a doctor in my life. I believe in whiskey and that kept me +going. And let me tell you—I'se always going to be a nigger till I die.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ByrdSarah"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br> +Ex. Slave #13]<br> +<br> +AN INTERVIEW ON SLAVERY OBTAINED FROM<br> +MRS. SARAH BYRD—EX-SLAVE</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Sarah Byrd claims to be 95 years of age but the first impression +one receives when looking at her is that of an old lady who is very +active and possessing a sweet clear voice. When she speaks you can +easily understand every word and besides this, each thought is well +expressed. Often during the interview she would suddenly break out in a +merry laugh as if her own thoughts amused her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sarah Byrd was born in Orange County Virginia the youngest of three +children. During the early part of her childhood her family lived in +Virginia her mother Judy Newman and father Sam Goodan each belonging to +a different master. Later on the family became separated the father was +sold to a family in East Tennessee and the mother and children were +bought by Doctor Byrd in Augusta, Georgia. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked +"Chile in them days so many families were broke up and some went one way +and der others went t'other way; and you nebber seed them no more. +Virginia wuz a reg'lar slave market."</p> + +<p>Dr. Byrd owned a large plantation and raised such products as peas +potatoes, cotton corn (etc). There were a large number of slaves. Mrs. +Byrd was unable to give the exact number but remarked. "Oh Lordy Chile I +nebber could tell just how many slaves that man had t'wuz too many uv +em."</p> + +<p>The size of the plantation required that the slaves be classified +according to the kind of work each was supposed to do. There were the +"cotton pickers", the "plow hands," the "hoe hands," the "rail +splitters," etc. "My very fust job," remarked Mrs. Byrd, "wuz that uv +cotton picking." Mrs Byrd's mother was a full [TR: field?] hand.</p> + +<p>Houses on the Byrd Plantation were made of logs and the cracks were +daubed with mud. The chimnies were made of mud and supported by sticks.</p> + +<p>Each fireplace varied in length from 3 to 4 feet because they serve the +purpose of stoves; and the family meals were prepared in those large +fireplaces often two and three pots were suspended from a rod running +across the fireplace. Most of the log houses consisted of one room; +however if the family was very large two rooms were built. The +furnishings consisted only of a home-made table, benches, and a +home-made bed, the mattress of which was formed by running ropes from +side to side forming a framework. Mattresses were made by filling a tick +with wheatstraw. The straw was changed each season. Laughing Mrs. Byrd +remarked, "Yessirree, them houses wuz warmer than some are ter day."</p> + +<p>Doctor Byrd was rather kind and tried to help his slaves as much as +possible, but according to Mrs. Byrd his wife was very mean and often +punished her slaves without any cause. She never gave them anything but +the coarsest foods. Although there of plenty of milk and butter, she +only gave it to the families after it had soured. "Many a day I have +seed butter just sittin around in pans day after day till it got good +and spoiled then she would call some uv us and give it ter us. Oh she +wuz a mean un," remarked Mrs. Byrd. Continuing Mrs. Byrd remarked "she +would give us bread that had been cooked a week." Mr. Byrd gave his +slave families good clothes. Twice a year clothing was distributed among +his families. Every June summer clothes were given and every October +winter clothes were given. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked "I nebber knowed what +it wuz not ter have a good pair uv shoes." Cloth for the dresses and +shirts was spun on the plantation by the slaves.</p> + +<p>The treatment of the slaves is told in Mrs. Byrd's own words:</p> + +<p>"We wuz always treated nice by Master Byrd and he always tried ter save +us punishment at the hands uv his wife but that 'oman wuz somethin' +nother. I nebber will ferget once she sent me after some brush broom and +told me ter hurry back. Well plums wuz jest gitting ripe so I just took +my time and et all the plums I wanted after that I come on back ter the +house. When I got there she called me upstairs, 'Sarah come here.' Up +the steps I went and thar she stood with that old cow hide. She struck +me three licks and I lost my balance and tumbled backward down the +stairs. I don't know how come I didn't hurt myself but the Lord wuz wid +me and I got up and flew. I could hear her just hollering 'Come back +here! come back here!' but I ant stop fer nothing. That night at supper +while I wuz fanning the flies from the table she sed ter the doctor. +'Doctor what you think? I had ter whip that little devil ter day. I sent +her after brush broom and she went off and eat plums instead of hurrying +back.' The doctor just looked at her and rolled his eyes but never sed a +word. There wuz very little whipping on Byrd's plantation, but I have +gone ter bed many a night and heard 'em gittin whipped on the plantation +next ter us. If dey runned away they would put the hounds on 'em." +Concluding her story on treatmeant Mrs. Byrd remarked "Yessirree I could +tell that 'oman wuz mean the first time I seed her after we came from +Virginia cause she had red eyes." "Pader rollers" stayed busy all the +time trying to find slaves off their plantations without passes. +Marriages were performed by having the couple jump the broom. If the +[TR: 'couple' deleted, handwritten words above illegible] belonged to +different masters oftentimes one master would purchase the other; but +should neither wish to sell the man would then have to get passes to +visit his wife on her plantation. "Dey would leave the plantation on +Saturday afternoons and on Sunday afternoon you could see 'em coming in +just lak they wuz coming from church," remarked Mrs. Byrd.</p> + +<p>There were frolics on the Byrd plantation any time that the slaves chose +to have them. "Yes sir we could frolic all we want ter. I use ter be so +glad when Saturday night came cause I knowed us wuz go have a frolic and +I wouldn't have a bit 'uv appetite I would tell my ma we gwine dance ter +night I dont want nothin teet. Yes sir us would frolic all night long +sometimes when the sun rise on Sunday morning us would all be layin +round or settin on the floor. They made music on the banjo, by knocking +bones, and blowing quills."</p> + +<p>The Byrds did not provide a church on their plantation for their slaves +neither were they allowed to attend the white church; instead they had +prayer meetings in their own cabins where they could sing pray and +shout as much as they wished. "I nebber will fergit the last prayer +meeting us had," remarked Mrs. Byrd. "Two woman named Ant Patsy and Ant +Prudence came over from the next plantation. I believed they slipped +over there wid out gittin a pass. Anyway, they old master came there and +whipped 'em and made 'em go home. I reckin he thought us wuz praying ter +git free." Continuing—</p> + +<p>I nebber will fergit the fust time I set eyes on them thar Yankees. I +done already heard 'bout how they wuz going round ter the different +plantations taking the horses and carrying away the money and other +valuable things, but they had nebber come ter our place. So this day I +saw 'em coming cross the railroad track and they look jest lack thunder +there wuz so meny 'uv em. When they got ter our house every body wuz +sleep and they knocked and knocked. We had a bad dog that didn't take no +foolishness off nobody, so when he kept barking them Yankees cursed him +and do you know he heshed up? I sid, 'Dear Lord what sort of man is that +all he got ter do is curse that dog and he don't even growl.' Well, when +they finally got in all they wanted wuz ter know if Mr. Byrd could help +feed the soldiers until Monday. Mr. Byrd told 'em he would. Soon after +that the war ended and we wuz called ter gether and told us wuz free. +Some uv'em stayed there and some uv'em left. Us left and moved ter +another plantation."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Byrd who had previously given the writer an interview on folk-lore +asked the writer to return at a later date and she would try to think up +more information concerning superstitions, conjure, etc. The writer +thanked her for the interview and promised to make another visit soon.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CallawayMariah"></a> +<h3>Ex-Slave #18<br> +<br> +INTERVIEW WITH (MRS.) MARIAH CALLAWAY EX-SLAVE</h3> + +<p>[TR: A significant portion of this interview was repeated in typescript; +where there was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used. Where a +completely different word was substituted, 'the original' refers to the +typewritten page.]</p> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Mariah Callaway sat in a chair opposite the writer and told her +freely of the incidents of slavery as she remembered them. To a casual +observer it will come as a surprise to know the woman was blind. She is +quite old, but her thoughts were clearly and intelligently related to +the writer.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Callaway was born in Washington, Wilkes County, Georgia probably +during the year 1852, as she estimated her age to be around 12 or 13 +years when freedom was declared. She does not remember her mother and +father, as her mother died the second day after she was born, so the job +of rearing her and a small brother fell on her grandmother, Mariah +Willis, for whom she was named. Mrs. Callaway stated that the old +master, Jim Willis, kept every Negro's age in a Bible: but after he died +the Bible was placed upstairs in the gallery and most of the pages were +destroyed. The following is a story of the purchase of Mrs. Callaway's +grandfather as related by her.</p> + +<p>"My grandfather come directly from Africa and I never shall forget the +story he told us of how he and other natives were fooled on board a ship +by the white slave traders using red handkerchiefs as enticement. When +they reached America, droves of them were put on the block and sold to +people all over the United States.</p> + +<p>The master and mistress of their plantation were Mr. Jim Willis and Mrs. +Nancy Willis who owned hundreds of acres of land and a large number of +slaves. Mrs. Callaway was unable to give an exact number but stated the +Willises were considered wealthy people. On their plantation were raised +sheep, goats, mules, horses, cows, etc. Cotton, corn and vegetables were +also raised. The Willis family was a large one consisting of six +children. 4 boys and 2 girls. Their home was a large two-story frame +house which was set apart from the slave quarters.</p> + +<p>Slave homes on the Willis plantation differed in no respect from the +usual type found elsewhere. All homes were simple log cabins grouped +together, forming what is known as slave quarters.</p> + +<p>The Willis family as kind and religious and saw to it that their slaves +were given plenty of food to eat. Every Monday night each family was +given its share of food for the week. Each grown person was given a peck +of corn [TR: meal on original page] and three pounds of meat; besides +the vegetables, etc. On Tuesday morning each family was given an ample +amount of real flour for biscuits.</p> + +<p>Many of the slave families, especially Mrs. Callaway's family, were +given the privilege of earning money by selling different products. "My +grandfather owned a cotton patch," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "and the +master would loan him a mule so he could plow it at night. Two boys +would each hold a light for him to work by. He preferred working at +night to working on his holidays. My master had a friend in Augusta, +Ga., by the name of Steve Heard and just before my grandfather got ready +to sell his cotton, the master would write Mr. Heard and tell him that +he was sending cotton by Sam and wanted his sold and a receipt returned +to him. He also advised him to give all the money received to Sam. When +grandfather returned he would be loaded down with sugar, cheese, tea, +mackerel, etc. for his family."</p> + +<p>When the women came home from the fields they had to spin 7 cuts, so +many before supper and so many after supper. A group of women were then +selected to weave the cuts of thread into cloth. Dyes were made from red +shoe berries and later used to dye this cloth different colors. All +slaves received clothing twice a year, spring and winter. Mr. Jim Willis +was known for his kindness to his slaves and saw to it that they were +kept supplied with Sunday clothes and shoes as well as work clothing. A +colored shoemaker was required to keep the plantation supplied with +shoes; and everyone was given a pair of Sunday shoes which they kept +shined with a mixture of egg white and soot.</p> + +<p>The size of the Willis Plantation and the various crops and cattle +raised required many different types of work. There were the plow hands, +the hoe hands, etc. Each worker had a required amount of work to +complete each day and an overseer was hired by slave owners to keep +check on this phase of the work. "We often waited until the overseer got +behind a hill, and then we would lay down our hoe and call on God to +free us, my grandfather told me," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "However, I +was a pet in the Willis household and did not have any work to do except +play with the small children. I was required to keep their hands and +faces clean. Sometimes I brought in chips to make the fires. We often +kept so much noise playing in the upstairs bedroom that the master would +call to us and ask that we keep quiet." Older women on the plantation +acted as nurses for all the small children and babies while their +parents worked in the fields. The mistress would keep a sharp eye on the +children also to see that they were well cared for. A slave's life was +very valuable to their owners.</p> + +<p>Punishment was seldom necessary on the Willis plantation as the master +and mistress did everything possible to make their slaves happy; and to +a certain extent indulged them. They were given whisky liberally from +their master's still; and other choice food on special occasions. "I +remember once," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "my aunt Rachel burned the +biscuits and the young master said to her, "Rachel, you nursed me and I +promised not to ever whip you, so don't worry about burning the bread." +My mistress was very fond of me, too, and gave me some of everything +that she gave her own children, tea cakes, apples, etc. She often told +me that she was my mother and was supposed to look after me. In spite of +the kindness of the Willis family there were some slaves who were +unruly; so the master built a house off to itself and called it the +Willis jail. Here he would keep those whom he had to punish. I have +known some slaves to run away on other plantations and the hounds +would bite plugs out of their legs."</p> + +<p>The Willis family did not object to girls and boys courting. There were +large trees, and often in the evenings the boys from other plantations +would come over to see the girls on the Willis plantation. They would +stand in groups around the trees, laughing and talking. If the courtship +reached the point of marriage a real marriage ceremony was performed +from the Bible and the man was given a pass to visit his wife weekly. +Following a marriage a frolic took place and the mistress saw to it that +everyone was served nice foods for the occasion.</p> + +<p>Frolics were common occurrences on the Willis plantation, also quilting +parties. Good foods consisting of pies, cakes, chicken, brandied +peaches, etc. "Dancing was always to be expected by anyone attending +them," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "Our master always kept two to three +hundred gallons of whisky and didn't mind his slaves drinking. I can +remember my master taking his sweetened dram every morning, and often he +gave me some in a tumbler. On Christmas Day big dinners were given for +all of the slaves and a few ate from the family's table after they had +finished their dinner."</p> + +<p>Medical care was promptly given a slave when he became ill. Special care +was always given them for the Willis family had a personal interest in +their slaves. "On one occasion," remarked Mrs. Calloway, "the scarlet +fever broke out among the slaves and to protect the well ones it became +necessary to build houses in a field for those who were sick. This +little settlement later became know as "Shant Field." Food was carried +to a hill and left so that the sick persons could get it without coming +in contact with the others. To kill the fever, sticks of fat pine were +dipped in tar and set on fire and then placed all over the field."</p> + +<p>Religion played as important part in the lives of the slaves, and such +[TR: much?] importance was attached to their prayer meetings. There were +no churches, provided and occasionally they attended the white churches; +but more often they held their prayer meetings in their own cabins. +Prayers and singing was in a moaning fashion, and you often heard this +and nothing more. On Sunday afternoons everyone found a seat around the +mulberry tree and the young mistress would conduct Sunday School.</p> + +<p>Concerning the Civil War, Mrs. Callaway related the following story:</p> + +<p>"When the war broke out my mistress' home became a sewing center and +deifferent women in the neighborhood would come there every day to make +clothes for the soldiers. On each bed was placed the vests, coats, +shirts, pants, and caps. One group did all the cutting, one the +stitching, and one the fitting. Many women cried while they served [TR: +sewed?] heart-broken because their husbands and sons had to go to the +war. One day the Yanks came to our plantation and took all of the best +horses. In one of their wagons were bales of money which they had taken. +Money then was blue in color; of course, there was silver and gold. +After taking the horses they drank as much whisky as they could hold and +then filled their canteens. The rest of the whisky they filled with +spit. The master didn't interfere for fear of the long guns which they +carried."</p> + +<p>After the war some of the slaves left the plantation to seek their +fortune; others remained, renting land from the Willis family or working +with them on a share crop basis.</p> + +<p>As a conclusion Mrs. Callaway remarked: "My folks were good and I know +[HW: they're] in heaven." Mrs. Callaway is deeply religious and all +during the interview would constantly drift to the subject of religion. +She is well cared for by her nine children, six girls and three boys.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CastleSusan"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br> +<br> +SUSAN CASTLE, Age 78<br> +1257 W. Hancock Ave.<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>On a beautiful morning in April, the interviewer found Susan sitting in +the door of her cabin. When asked if she would like to talk about the +old plantation days, she replied; "Yes Ma'am, I don't mind tellin' what +I know, but for dat I done forgot I sho' ain't gwine make nothin' up. +For one thing, I ain't never lived on no plantation. I was a house +servant in town." She added: "Do you mind me axin' you one favor?" +Consent was given and she continued: "Dat is, please don't call me Aunt +Susan; it makes me feel lak I was a hundred years old.</p> + +<p>"I was borned in Clarke County, March 7, 1860; I believes dat's what dey +say. Mudder was named Fannie and Pappy's name was Willis. Us chillun +called 'im Pappy lak he was de onliest one in de world. He fust belonged +to Marse Maxwell of Savannah, Georgia. I was so little I disremembers +how Pappy come by de name of Castle. In all de seben of us chillun, I +didn't have but one brudder, and his name was Johnny. My five sisters +was Mary, Louvenia, Rosa, Fannie, and Sarah. All I 'members 'bout us as +chilluns was dat us played lak chilluns will do.</p> + +<p>"In de quarters us had old timey beds and cheers, but I'll tell you whar +I slept most times. Hit was on a cot right at de foot of Mist'ess' bed. +I stayed at de big house most of de time at night, and 'fore bedtime I +sot close by Mist'ess on a foot stool she had special for me.</p> + +<p>"All I ricollects 'bout my gran'ma was she belonged to General Thomas +R.R. Cobb, and us called 'im Marse Thomas. Gran'ma Susan wouldn't do +right so Marse Thomas sold her on de block.</p> + +<p>"Us had evvything good to eat. Marse Thomas was a rich man and fed 'is +Niggers well. Dey cooked in a big open fireplace and biled greens and +some of de udder vittals in a great big pot what swung on a rack. Meat, +fish and chickens was fried in a griddle iron what was sot on a flat +topped trivet wid slits to let de fire thoo. Dey called it a trivet +'cause it sot on three legs and hot coals was raked up under it. Hoe +cakes made out of cornmeal and wheat flour sho' was good cooked on dat +griddle. 'Tatoes was roasted in de ashes, and dey cooked bread what dey +called ash cake in de ashes. Pound cake, fruit cake, light bread and +biscuits was baked in a great big round pot, only dey warn't as deep as +de pots dey biled in; dese was called ovens. Makes me hongry to think +'bout all dem good vittals now.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Yes Ma'am, us had plenty 'possums. Pappy used to cotch so many +sometimes he jest put 'em in a box and let us eat 'em when us got ready. +'Possums tasted better atter dey was put up in a box and fattened a +while. Us didn't have many rabbits; dey warn't as much in style den as +dey is now, and de style of eatin' 'possums lak dey done in slav'ry +times, dat is 'bout over. Dey eats 'em some yet, but it ain't stylish no +mo'. Us chillun used to go fishin' in Moore's Branch; one would stand on +one side of de branch wid a stick, and one on de udder side would roust +de fishes out. When dey come to de top and jump up, us would hit 'em on +de head, and de grown folks would cook 'em. Dere warn't but one gyarden, +but dat had plenty in it for evvybody.</p> + +<p>"In summer time us wore checkedy dresses made wid low waistes and +gethered skirts, but in winter de dresses was made out of linsey-woolsey +cloth and underclothes was made out of coarse unbleached cloth. +Petticoats had bodice tops and de draw's was made wid waistes too. Us +chillun didn't know when Sunday come. Our clothes warn't no diffu'nt den +from no udder day. Us wore coarse, heavy shoes in winter, but in summer +us went splatter bar feets.</p> + +<p>"Marse Thomas was jest as good as he could be, what us knowed of 'im. +Miss Marion, my Mist'ess, she won't as good to us as Marse Thomas, but +she was all right too. Dey had a heap of chillun. Deir twin boys died, +and de gals was Miss Callie, Miss Sallie, Miss Marion (dey called her +Miss Birdie), and Miss Lucy, dat Lucy Cobb Institute was named for. My +mudder was Miss Lucy's nuss. Marse Thomas had a big fine melonial +(colonial) house on Prince Avenue wid slave quarters in de back yard of +his 10-acre lot. He owned 'most nigh dat whole block 'long dar.</p> + +<p>"Oh! dey had 'bout a hundred slaves I'm sho', for dere was a heap of +'em. De overseer got 'em up 'bout five o'clock in de mornin' and dat +breakfust sho' had better be ready by seben or else somebody gwine to +have to pay for it. Dey went to deir cabins 'bout ten at night. Marse +was good, but he would whup us if we didn't do right. Miss Marion was +allus findin' fault wid some of us.</p> + +<p>"Jesse was de car'iage driver. Car'iages was called phaetons den. Dey +had high seats up in front whar de driver sot, and de white folks sot in +de car'iage below. Jesse went to de War wid Marse Thomas, and was wid +him when he was kilt at Fred'ricksburg, Virginia. I heard 'em sey one of +his men shot 'im by mistake, but I don't know if dat's de trufe or not. +I do know dey sho' had a big grand fun'al 'cause he was a big man and a +general in de War.</p> + +<p>"Some of de slaves on Marse Thomas' place knowed how to read. Aunt Vic +was one of de readers what read de Bible. But most of de Niggers didn't +have sense enough to learn so dey didn't bother wid 'em. Dey had a +church way downtown for de slaves. It was called Landon's Chapel for +Rev. Landon, a white man what preached dar. Us went to Sunday School +too. Aunt Vic read de Bible sometimes den. When us jined de chu'ch dey +sung: 'Amazing Grace How Sweet de Sound.'</p> + +<p>"Marse Thomas had lots of slaves to die, and dey was buried in de +colored folks cemetery what was on de river back of de Lucas place. I +used to know what dey sung at fun'als way back yonder, but I can't bring +it to mind now.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'am, none of Marse Thomas' Niggers ever run away to de Nawth. He +was good to his Niggers. Seems lak to me I 'members dem patterollers run +some of Marse Thomas' Niggers down and whupped 'em and put 'em in jail. +Old Marse had to git 'em out when dey didn't show up at roll call next +mornin'.</p> + +<p>"Marse Thomas allus put a man or de overseer on a hoss or a mule when he +wanted to send news anywhar. He was a big man and had too many slaves to +do anything hisse'f.</p> + +<p>"I 'spect dey done den lak dey does now, slipped 'round and got in +devilment atter de day's wuk was done. Marse Thomas was allus havin' +swell elegant doin's at de big house. De slaves what was house servants +didn't have no time off only atter dinner on Sundays.</p> + +<p>"Christmas was somepin' else. Us sho' had a good time den. Dey give de +chilluns china dolls and dey sont great sacks of apples, oranges, candy, +cake, and evvything good out to de quarters. At night endurin' Christmas +us had parties, and dere was allus some Nigger ready to pick de banjo. +Marse Thomas allus give de slaves a little toddy too, but when dey was +havin' deir fun if dey got too loud he sho' would call 'em down. I was +allus glad to see Christmas come. On New Year's Day, de General had big +dinners and invited all de high-falutin' rich folks.</p> + +<p>"My mudder went to de corn shuckin's off on de plantations, but I was +too little to go. Yes Ma'am, us sho' did dance and sing funny songs way +back in dem days. Us chillun used to play 'Miss Mary Jane,' and us would +pat our hands and walk on broom grass. I don't know nothin' 'bout +charms. Dey used to tell de chillun dat when old folks died dey turned +to witches. I ain't never seed no ghostes, but I sho' has felt 'em. Dey +made de rabbits jump over my grave and had me feelin' right cold and +clammy. Mudder used to sing to Miss Lucy to git her to sleep, but I +don't 'member de songs.</p> + +<p>"Marster was mighty good to his slaves when dey got sick. He allus sont +for Dr. Crawford Long. He was de doctor for de white folks and Marster +had him for de slaves.</p> + +<p>"My mudder said she prayed to de Lord not to let Niggers be slaves all +deir lifes and sho' 'nough de yankees comed and freed us. Some of de +slaves shouted and hollered for joy when Miss Marion called us togedder +and said us was free and warn't slaves no more. Most of 'em went right +out and left 'er and hired out to make money for deyselfs.</p> + +<p>"I stayed on wid my mudder and she stayed on wid Miss Marion. Miss +Marion give her a home on Hull Street 'cause mudder was allus faithful +and didn't never leave her. Atter Miss Marion died, mudder wukked for +Miss Marion's daughter, Miss Callie Hull, in Atlanta. Den Miss Callie +died and mudder come on back to Athens. 'Bout ten years ago she died.</p> + +<p>"I wukked for Mrs. Burns on Jackson Street a long time, but she warn't +no rich lady lak de Cobbs. De last fambly I wukked for was Dr. Hill. I +nussed 'til atter de chillun got too big for dat, and den I done de +washin' 'til dis misery got in my limbs."</p> + +<p>When asked about marriage customs, she laughed and replied: "I was +engaged, but I didn't marry though, 'cause my mudder 'posed me marryin'. +I had done got my clothes bought and ready. Mrs. Hull helped me fix my +things. My dress was a gray silk what had pearl beads on it and was +trimmed in purple.</p> + +<p>"What does I think 'bout freedom? I think it's best to be free, 'cause +you can do pretty well as you please. But in slav'ry time if de Niggers +had a-behaved and minded deir Marster and Mist'ess dey wouldn't have had +sich a hard time. Mr. Jeff Davis 'posed freedom, but Mr. Abraham Lincoln +freed us, and he was all right. Booker Washin'ton was a great man, and +done all he knowed how to make somepin' out of his race.</p> + +<p>"De reason I jined de church was dat de Lord converted me. He is our +guide. I think people ought to be 'ligious and do good and let deir +lights shine 'cause dat's de safest way to go to Heben."</p> + +<p>At the conclusion of the interview Susan asked: "Is dat all you gwine to +ax me? Well, I sho' enjoyed talkin' to you. I hopes I didn't talk loud +'nough for dem other Niggers to hear me, 'cause if you open your mouth +dey sho' gwine tell it. Yes Ma'am, I'se too old to wuk now and I'se +thankful for de old age pension. If it warn't for dat, since dis misery +tuk up wid me, I would be done burnt up, I sho' would. Good-bye +Mist'ess."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ClaybournEllen"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 2<br> +Ex-Slave #17]<br> +<br> +ELLEN CLAIBOURN<br> +808 Campbell Street<br> +(Richmond County)<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +<br> +By:<br> +(Mrs.) Margaret Johnson—Editor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Dist. 2<br> +Augusta, Ga.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Ellen was born August 19, 1852, on the plantation of Mr. Hezie Boyd in +Columbia County, her father being owned by Mr. Hamilton on an adjoining +plantation. She remembers being given, at the age of seven, to her young +mistress, Elizabeth, who afterward was married to Mr. Gabe Hendricks. At +her new home she served as maid, and later as nurse. The dignity of her +position as house servant has clung to her through the years, forming +her speech in a precision unusual in her race.</p> + +<p>"I 'member all our young marsters was drillin' way back in 1860, an' the +Confed'rate War did not break out till in April 1861. My mistis' young +husband went to the war, an' all the other young marsters 'round us. +Young marster's bes' friend came to tell us all goodby, an' he was +killed in the first battle he fought in.</p> + +<p>"Befo' the war, when we was little, we mostly played dolls, and had doll +houses, but sometime young marster would come out on the back porch and +play the fiddle for us. When he played 'Ole Dan Tucker' all the peoples +uster skip and dance 'bout and have a good time. My young mistis played +on the piano.</p> + +<p>"My granpa was so trusty and hon'able his old marster give him and +granma they freedom when he died. He give him a little piece of land and +a mule, and some money, and tole him he didn't b'long to nobody, and +couldn't work for nobody 'cept for pay. He couldn't free granpa's +chilrun, 'cause they already b'longed to their young marsters and +mistises. He worked for Mr. Hezie Boyd one year as overseer, but he say +he didn't wanter lose his religion trying to make slaves work, so he +took to preaching. He rode 'bout on his mule and preach at all the +plantations. I never 'member seein' granma, but granpa came to see us +of'en. He wore a long tail coat and a <i>big</i> beaver hat. In that hat +granma had always pack a pile of ginger cakes for us chilrun. They was +big an' thick, an' longish, an' we all stood 'round to watch him take +off his hat. Every time he came to see us, granma sent us clothes and +granpa carried 'em in his saddle bags. You ever see any saddle bags, +ma'am? Well they could sho' hold a heap of stuff!</p> + +<p>"My pa uster come two or three times a week to our plantashun, an' just +so he was back by sun-up for work, nobody didn't say nothin' to him. He +just lived 'bout three or four miles way from us.</p> + +<p>"Yes ma'am we went to church, and the white preachers preached for us. +We sat in the back of the church just like we sits in the back of the +street cars now-days. Some of the house servants would go one time and +some another. All the hands could go but ev'rybody had to has a pass, to +sho' who they b'long to.</p> + +<p>"Yes ma'am, the slaves was whipped if they didn't do they taskwork, or +if they steal off without a pass, but if our marster found a overseer +whipped the slaves overmuch he would git rid of him. We was always +treated good and kind and well cared for, and we was happy.</p> + +<p>"No ma'am, no overseer ever went to marster's table, or in the house +'cept to speak to marster. Marster had his overseers' house and give 'em +slaves to cook for 'em and wait on 'em, but they never go anywhere with +the fam'ly.</p> + +<p>"The house servants' houses was better than the fiel'-hands'—and +Marster uster buy us cloth from the 'Gusta Fact'ry in checks and plaids +for our dresses, but all the fiel'-hands clothes was made out of cloth +what was wove on mistis' own loom. Sometime the po' white folks in the +neighborhood would come an' ask to make they cloth on mistis' loom, and +she always let 'em.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am, we had seamsters to make all the clothes for everybody, and +mistis had a press-room, where all the clothes was put away when they +was finished. When any body needed clothes mistis would go to the +press-room an' get 'em.</p> + +<p>"During the war mistis had one room all fixed up to take care of sick +soldiers. They would come stragglin' in, all sick or shot, an' sometimes +we had a room full of 'em. Mistis had one young boy to do nothin' but +look after 'em and many's the night I got up and helt the candle for 'em +to see the way to the room.</p> + +<p>"Oh my Gawd, I saw plenty wounded soldiers. We was right on the road to +Brightsboro, and plenty of 'em pass by. That Confed'rate war was the +terriblest, awfullest thing.</p> + +<p>"Nobody but me knowed where mistis buried her gold money and finger +rings and ear-rings and breat-pins. [TR: breast-pins?] I helt the candle +then, too. Mistis and marster, (he was home then) an' me went down back +of the grape arbor to the garden-house. Marster took up some planks, an' +dug a hole like a grabe and buried a big iron box with all them things +in it; then he put back the planks. Nobody ever found 'em, and after the +war was over we went and got 'em.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am, everybody did they own work. De cook cooked, and the +washer, she didn't iron no clothes. De ironer did that. De housemaid +cleaned up, and nurse tended the chilrun. Then they was butlers and +coachmen. Oh, they was a plenty of us to do eve'ything.</p> + +<p>"We didn't have a stove, just a big fire place, and big oven on both +sides, and long-handle spiders. When we was fixin' up to go to Camp +Meeting to the White Oak Camp meeting grounds, they cooked chickens and +roasted pigs, and put apples in they mouth and a lot of other food—good +food too. De food peoples eat these days, you couldn't have got +<i>nobody</i> to eat. Camp Meetin' was always in August and September. +It was a good Methodis' meetin', and eve'ybody got religion. Sometimes a +preacher would come to visit at the house, an' all the slaves was called +an' he prayed for 'em. Sometimes the young ones would laugh, an' then +marster would have 'em whipped.</p> + +<p>"My young mistis had a sister older than her. She married Mr. Artie +Boyd, an' they had a big weddin' but she loved her home and her mother +and father so much she wouldn't leave home. She just stayed on living +there. When her baby come she died, and I tell you, ma'am, her fun'al +was most like a weddin', with so many people an' so many flowers. All +the people from the plantashun came to the house, an' the wimmen had +they babies in they arms. One the ladies say, "How come they let all +these niggers and babies come in the house?" But marster knowed all us +loved mistis, and he call us in. Marse Artie he wrote a long letter an' +all the things he got from mistis he give back to her fam'ly an' all his +own things he give to his brother, an' then he died. Some say his heart +strings just broke 'cause mistis died, and some say he took something.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, I wasn't married till after freedom. I was married right +here in 'Gusta by Mr. Wharton, the First Baptist Church preacher, an' I +lived and worked here ever since."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ClayBerry"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 7<br> +Ex-Slave #19]<br> +Adella S. Dixon<br> +District 7<br> +<br> +BERRY CLAY<br> +OLD SLAVE STORY<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Telfair County was the home of some colored people who never were +slaves, but hired their services for wages just as the race does today. +Berry Clay, half Indian, half white, was the son of Fitema Bob Britt, a +full blood Indian, who died shortly after his son's birth. His mother +later married William Clay, whose name was taken by the children as well +as the mother. The family then moved to Macon.</p> + +<p>Clay, next [TR: 'to the' scratched out] oldest of five children was 89 +years old on August 5, 1936, and while he was never a slave, remembers +many incidents that took place then. Not many years after his mother +remarried, she became very ill and he recalls being lifted by his +step-father to kiss her good bye as she lay dying. After her death, the +family continued to live in South Macon where the father was employed as +overseer for a crew at the Railroad yard.</p> + +<p>This position often called for the punishment of slaves but he was too +loyal to his color to assist in making their lives more unhappy. His +method of carrying out orders and yet keeping a clear conscience was +unique—the slave was taken to the woods where he was supposedly laid +upon a log and severely beaten. Actually, he was made to stand to one +side and to emit loud cries which were accompanied by hard blows on the +log. The continuation of the two sounds gave any listener the +impression that some one was severely beaten. It is said that Clay, the +father, wore out several huge leather straps upon logs but that he was +never known to strike a slave.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wadley, by whom he was employed, was a well-known Macon citizen who +served as President of the Central of Georgia Railroad for many years. A +monument on Mulberry Street nearly opposite the Post Office is a +constant reminder of the esteem in which he was held. His plantation was +a huge one extending from the Railroad yard as far as the present site +of Mercer University. A day of rest was given the slaves about once +every three months in addition to the regular holidays which are +observed today. On holidays, "frolics" at which square dances were the +chief form of entertainment (by the music of a banjo or fiddle) were +enjoyed. Ring games were played by the children. The refreshments +usually consisted of ash cakes and barbecue. The ash cake was made by +wrapping corn pones in oak leaves and burying the whole in hot ashes. +When the leaves dried, the cake was usually done and was carefully moved +to prevent its becoming soiled. [HW: A] skillful cook could produce +cakes that were a golden brown and not at all ashy.</p> + +<p>The membership of the local church was composed of slaves from several +plantations. It was an old colored church with a white minister who +preached the usual doctrine of the duty of a slave to his master. The +form of service was the same as that of the white church. One unusual +feature of the plantation was its Sunday School for the Negro children.</p> + +<p>Courtships were very brief for as soon as a man or woman began to +manifest interest in the opposite sex, the master busied himself to +select a wife or husband and only in rare cases was the desire of the +individual considered. When the selection was made, the master read the +ceremony and gave the couple a home. He always requested, or rather +demanded, that they be fruitful. A barren woman was separated from her +husband and usually sold.</p> + +<p>Very little money was handled by these people. The carriage drivers were +more fortunate than the regular workers for they smuggled things to town +when they drove the master and mistress and sold them while the family +shopped or went visiting. At rare intervals, the field hands were able +to earn small sums of money in this manner.</p> + +<p>Food was provided by the owners and all families cooked for themselves +whether they were many or one. The weekly allotments of meal, meat, +etc., were supplemented through the use of vegetables which could always +be obtained from the fields. On special days chicken or beef was given +and each one had a sufficient amount for his needs. Hunting and fishing +were recreations in which the slaves were not allowed to participate +although they frequently went on secret excursions of this nature. All +food stuff as well as cloth for garments was produced at home.</p> + +<p>Clay is very superstitious, still believing in most of the signs +commonly believed in those days, because he has "watched them and found +that they are true". He stated that the screeching of the owl may be +stopped by placing a poker in the fire and allowing it to remain until +it becomes red hot. The owl will then leave, but death will invariably +follow its visit.</p> + +<p>The attitudes of the two races in the South regarding the war were +directly opposite. The whites beheld it as something horrible and +dreaded the losses that would necessarily be theirs. Sons and fathers +had property to be considered, but they were generous in their +contributions to the soldiers. On the other hand, the slaves rejoiced as +they looked forward to their freedom when the war was over. There were, +however, a few who were devoted to their masters to the extent that they +fought in their stead in the Confederate Army. Others remained at home +and skillfully ran the plantation and protected the women and children +until the end of the war.</p> + +<p>When Sherman made his famous "March to Sea", one phalanx of his army +wrought its destruction between this city and Griswoldville. A gun +factory and government shoe factory were completely destroyed. Although +the citizens gave the invaders everything they thought they desired, the +rest was destroyed in most instances. They tried to ascertain the +attitudes of the land owners toward his servants and when for any reason +they presumed that one was cruel, their vengeance was expressed through +the absolute destruction of his property. In nearly every instance +smoke houses were raided and the contents either destroyed or given +away. Barrels of syrup flowing through the yard was a common sight.</p> + +<p>At the end of the war, the South was placed under military rule. The +presence of the Yankee guardsmen had a psychological effect upon the +Southerners and they were very humble.</p> + +<p>Before the terrors of the war had subsided a new menace sprang up—the +Klu Klux Klan. While its energy was usually directed against ex-slaves, +a white man was sometimes a victim. One such occasion was recalled by +Clay. The group planned to visit a man who for some reason became +suspicious and prepared to outwit them if they came. He heated a huge +pot of water and when a part of his door was crashed in he reached +through the opening and poured gourds of boiling water upon his +assailants. They retreated, [HW: and] while they were away, he made his +way to Atlanta.</p> + +<p>Another group which began its operations shortly after the close of the +war was a military clan organized for the purpose of giving the +ex-slaves a knowledge of drilling and war tactics. An order to disband +was received from the "Black Horse Calvary" by the leader of the group. +His life was threatened when he failed to obey so he prepared for a +surprise visit. He fortified his house with twenty-five men on the +inside and the same number outside. When the approaching calvarymen +reached a certain point, the fifty hidden men fired at the same time. +Seven members of the band were killed and many others wounded. There +was no further interference from this group.</p> + +<p>Clay and his father ran a grocery store just after Emancipation. He did +not like this type of work and apprenticed himself to a painter to learn +the trade. He is still considered an excellent painter though he does +not receive much work.</p> + +<p>He has always taken care of himself and never "ran about" at night. He +boasts that his associates never included a dancing woman. As he has +used tobacco for sixty-five years, he does not consider it a menace to +health but states that worry will kill anyone and the man who wants to +live a long time must form the habit of not worrying. His Indian +blood—the high cheek bones, red skin and straight black hair now tinged +with grey make this unmistakable—has probably played a large part in +the length of his life.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CodyPierce"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 7<br> +Ex-Slave #22]<br> +Adella S. Dixon<br> +District 7<br> +<br> +PIERCE CODY<br> +OLD SLAVE STORY<br> +[HW: About 88]<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Pierce Cody was the eldest son of Elbert and Dorothy Cody. His father +was born in Richmond, Virginia, his mother in Warren County. When the +Emancipation Proclamation was signed, he, the eldest child in a large +family, was in his early teens. This group lived on the place owned by +Mr. Bob Cody, [HW: whose] family was a group of ardent believers in the +Hardshell Baptist faith. So firm was their faith that a church of this +denomination was provided for the slaves and each one required to become +a member. A white minister invariably preached the then worn out +doctrine of a slave's duty to his master, the reward of faithfulness and +the usual admonition against stealing.</p> + +<p>The members of this church were required to fast on one day of the week, +the fast lasting all day until seven in the evening. The small boys, +both white and colored, resenting the abstinence from food, usually +secured a reserve supply which was cached during the week and secretly +enjoyed on fast day. Fish were plentiful in all the streams and they +sometimes sneaked away to the river and after enjoying the sport, cooked +their catch on the banks of the stream.</p> + +<p>Groups of ministers—30 to 40—then traveled from one plantation to +another spreading the gospel, and were entertained as they traveled. On +one occasion the group arrived at the Cody estate on fast day. The boys +having been on one of their secret fishing trips had caught so many +perch that they were not able to consume them on the banks, so had +smuggled them to the kitchen, coaxed the cook to promise to prepare +them, and had also sworn her to absolute secrecy regarding their origin. +Although the kitchen was not directly connected with the "big house", +the guests soon detected the aroma of fresh fish and requested that +they be allowed to partake of this delicacy. When the boys, as well as +the servants, heard this, they became panicky for they feared the wrath +of the master. But the catch was so heartily relished that instead of +the expected punishment, they were commended and allowed to fish on the +next day of fasting.</p> + +<p>As was characteristic of many others, the planter's home was near the +center of a vast estate and in this instance had a tall lookout on the +roof from which the watchman might see for miles around. The "quarters" +were nearby and the care-free children who played in the large yard were +closely watched as they were often stolen by speculators and later sold +at auctions far away. The land was divided into many fields each of +which was used to cultivate a particular product. Each field had its +special crew and overseer.</p> + +<p>Cody's father was [HW: one of the] feeders [HW: who] arose at least two +hours before sunrise, to feed the stock. A large number of horses and +more than two hundred head of cattle had to be fed by sunrise when they +were to be turned into the pastures or driven to the field to begin the +day's work. After sunrise, his father's duty [HW: as] foreman for +plowers began. Other workers were hoe hands, additional foremen, cooks, +weavers, spinners, seamstresses, tailors, shoemakers, etc. As everything +used was grown and made on the estate there was plenty of work for all +and in many instances [HW: slaves] learned trades which they liked and +which furnished a livelihood when they were set free.</p> + +<p>[HW: When he entered his teens] Cody's first duties began [HW: as] a +plowhand who broke "newground." As all of this land was to be plowed, a +lack of skill in making straight furrows did not matter, so beginners +were preferably used. Shortly after he began plowing he was made foreman +of one of the groups. Thus encouraged by his master's faith in his +ability to do a man's work, he assumed a "grown up" attitude under the +stimulus of his new responsibilities and was married shortly after.</p> + +<p>At this time marriages resulted from brief courtships. After the consent +of the girl was obtained, it was necessary to seek permission from the +master, whether she lived on the same or an adjoining plantation. In the +latter case, the marriage rites were performed by her master. The +minister was not used in most instances—the ceremony [HW: being] read +from a testament by the owner of the bride. Marriages were nearly always +performed out of doors in the late afternoon. The bride's wedding dress +was fashioned of cloth made on the plantation from a pattern of her own +designing. Attendants at marriages were rare. After the ceremony, the +guests danced far into the night by music from the fiddle and banjo. +Refreshments consisting of ginger cakes, barbecue, etc., were served. +Such a couple, belonging to two different masters, did not keep house. +The [HW: husband] was allowed to visit his wife on Wednesday night and +Saturday when he might remain through Sunday. All marriage unions were +permanent and a barren wife was considered the only real cause for +separation.</p> + +<p>Church services for this group were held jointly with the white members, +the two audiences being separated by a partition. Gradually, the colored +members became dissatisfied with this type of service and withdrew to +form a separate church. The desire for independence in worship must +necessarily have been strong, to endure the inconveniences of the "brush +arbor" churches that they resorted to. As a beginning, several trees +were felled, and the brush and forked branches separated. Four heavy +branches with forks formed the framework. Straight poles were laid +across these to form a crude imitation of beams and the other framework +of a building. The top and sides were formed of brush which was thickly +placed so that it formed a solid wall. A hole left in one side formed a +doorway from which beaten paths extended in all directions. Seats made +from slabs obtained at local sawmills completed the furnishing. In +inclement weather, it was not possible to conduct services here, but +occasionally showers came in the midst of the service and the audience +calmly hoisted umbrellas or papers and with such scant protection, the +worship continued.</p> + +<p>Sunday afternoons were quietly spent, visiting being the only means of +recreation. One of the favorite stay at home pastimes was the inspection +of heads. The pediculous condition made frequent treatment necessary for +comfort. The young white men liked to visit the "quarters" and have the +slaves search their heads. They would stretch full length upon the cabin +floors and rest their heads upon a pillow. Usually they offered a gift +of some sort if many of the tiny parasites were destroyed, so the clever +picker who found a barren head simply reached into his own and produced +a goodly number. There existed on this plantation an antagonistic +feeling toward children (born of slave parents) with a beautiful suit of +hair, and this type of hair was kept cropped very short.</p> + +<p>Gossip, stealing, etc. was not tolerated. No one was ever encouraged to +"tattle" on another. Locks were never used on any of the cabin doors or +on the smokehouse. Food was there in abundance and each person was free +to replenish his supply as necessary. Money was more or less a novelty +as it was only given in 1¢ pieces at Christmas time. As food, clothing, +and shelter were furnished, the absence was not particularly painful. +Connected with nearly every home were those persons who lived "in the +woods" in preference to doing the labor necessary to remain at their +home. Each usually had a scythe and a bulldog for protection. As food +became scarce, they sneaked to the quarters in the still of the night +and coaxed some friend to get food for them from the smokehouse. Their +supply obtained, they would leave again. This was not considered +stealing.</p> + +<p>Medical care was also free. Excellent physicians were maintained. It was +not considered necessary to call a physician until home +remedies—usually teas made of roots—had had no effect. Women in +childbirth were cared for by grannies,—Old women whose knowledge was +broad by experience, acted as practical nurses.</p> + +<p>Several cooks were regularly maintained. Some cooked for the men who had +no families, others for the members of the big house and guests. The +menus varied little from day to day. A diet of bread—called "shortening +bread,"—vegetables and smoked meat were usually consumed. Buttermilk +was always plentiful. On Sundays "seconds" (flour) were added to the +list and butter accompanied this. Chickens, fresh meat, etc., were +holiday items and were seldom enjoyed at any other time.</p> + +<p>Not only were the slaves required to work but the young men of the "big +house" also had their duties. In the summer they went fishing. While +this sport was enjoyed, it was done on an extremely large scale in order +that everyone should have an adequate supply of fish. The streams +abounded in all kinds of fish, and nets were used to obtain large +quantities necessary. In winter hunting was engaged in for this same +purpose. Rabbits, squirrels, etc., were the usual game, but in addition +the trapping of wild hogs was frequently indulged in. The woods +contained many of these animals which were exceptionally vicious. The +hunters, however, trapped them in much the same way that rabbits are now +caught, without injury to the flesh [TR: 'making the meat more +delicious' marked out]. Deer were also plentiful and venison enjoyed +during its season. Horned snakes were the greatest impediments to more +abundant hunting.</p> + +<p>Knowledge of the war was kept from the slaves until long after its +beginning. Most of them had no idea what "war" meant and any news that +might have been spread, fell on deaf ears. Gradually this knowledge was +imparted by Yankee peddlers who came to the plantation to sell +bed-ticking, etc. When the master discovered how this information was +being given out, these peddlers were forbidden to go near the quarters. +This rule was strictly enforced.</p> + +<p>Eventually, the Confederate soldiers on their way to and from camp began +to stop at the house. Food and everything available was given to them. +Three of Mr. Cody's sons were killed in battle. As the Northern soldiers +did not come near the home, the loss of property was practically +negligible [TR: '—six cents being all' marked out].</p> + +<p>When the Emancipation Proclamation was signed, the slaves were called to +the "big house" in a group to receive the news that they were free. Both +old and young danced and cheered when this information was given out. +Many of the families remained there for a year or two until they were +able to find desirable locations elsewhere.</p> + +<p>Cody attributes his ability to reach a ripe old age to the excellent +care he took of himself in his youth. He has used tobacco since he was a +small boy and does not feel that it affects his health. Distilled liquor +was plentiful in his young days and he always drank but never to an +excess.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CoferWillis"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +WILLIS COFER, Age 78<br> +548 Findley Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Grace McCune<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens, Ga.<br> +<br> +and<br> +Leila Harris<br> +John N. Booth<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +[MAY 6 1938]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Willis was enjoying the warm sunshine of an April morning as he sat on +his small porch. Apparently, he was pleased because someone actually +wanted to hear him talk about himself. His rheumatism had been painful +ever since that last bad cold had weakened him, but he felt sure the +sunshine would "draw out all the kinks." Having observed the amenities +in regard to health and weather, the old man proceeded with his story:</p> + +<p>"Eden and Calline Cofer was my pa and ma and us all lived on de big old +Cofer plantation 'bout five miles from Washin'ton, Wilkes. Pa b'longed +to Marse Henry Cofer and ma and us chillun wuz de property of Marse +Henry's father, Marse Joe Cofer.</p> + +<p>"I wuz borned in 1860, and at one time I had three brudders, but Cato +and John died. My oldest brudder, Ben Cofer, is still livin' and +a-preachin' de Gospel somewhar up Nawth.</p> + +<p>"Chilluns did have de bestes' good times on our plantation, 'cause Old +Marster didn't 'low 'em to do no wuk 'til dey wuz 12 years old. Us jus' +frolicked and played 'round de yard wid de white chilluns, but us sho' +did evermore have to stay in dat yard. It wuz de cook's place to boss us +when de other Niggers wuz off in de fields, and evvy time us tried to +slip off, she cotch us and de way dat 'oman could burn us up wid a +switch wuz a caution.</p> + +<p>"Dere warn't no schools for us to go to, so us jes' played 'round. Our +cook wuz all time feedin' us. Us had bread and milk for breakfas', and +dinner wuz mos'ly peas and cornbread, den supper wuz milk and bread. +Dere wuz so many chilluns dey fed us in a trough. Dey jes' poured de +peas on de chunks of cornbread what dey had crumbled in de trough, and +us had to mussel 'em out. Yessum, I said mussel. De only spoons us had +wuz mussel shells what us got out of de branches. A little Nigger could +put peas and cornbread away mighty fast wid a mussel shell.</p> + +<p>"Boys jes' wore shirts what looked lak dresses 'til dey wuz 12 years old +and big enough to wuk in de field. Den dey put 'em on pants made open in +de back. Dem britches would look awful funny now, but dey wuz all us had +den, and all de boys wuz mighty proud when dey got big enough to wear +pants and go to wuk in de fields wid grown folkses. When a boy got to be +a man enough to wear pants, he drawed rations and quit eatin' out of de +trough.</p> + +<p>"All de slave quarters wuz log cabins and little famblies had cabins wid +jes' one room. Old Marster sho' did want to see lots of chilluns 'round +de cabins and all de big famblies wuz 'lowed to live in two-room cabins. +Beds for slaves wuz made by nailing frames, built out of oak or walnut +planks to de sides of de cabins. Dey had two or three laigs to make 'em +set right, and de mattresses wuz filled wid wheat straw. Dere warn't no +sto'-bought stoves den, and all our cookin' wuz done in de fireplace. +Pots wuz hung on iron cranes to bile and big pones of light bread wuz +cooked in ovens on de hearth. Dat light bread and de biscuits made out +of shorts wuz our Sunday bread and dey sho' wuz good, wid our home-made +butter. Us had good old corn bread for our evvyday bread, and dere ain't +nothin' lak corn bread and buttermilk to make healthy Niggers. Dere +wouldn't be so many old sick Niggers now if dey et corn bread evvyday +and let all dis wheat bread and sto'-bought, ready-made bread alone +'cept on Sunday.</p> + +<p>"Dere wuz four or five acres in Marster's big old gyarden, but den it +tuk a big place to raise enough for all de slaves and white folkses too +in de same gyarden. Dere wuz jus' de one gyarden wid plenty of cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, beans, corn, peas, onions, 'taters, and jus' +evvything folkses laked in de way of gyarden sass. Marster never 'lowed +but one smokehouse on his place. It wuz plumb full of meat, and evvy +slave had his meat rations weighed out reg'lar. Dere wuz jes' one dairy +house too whar de slaves got all de milk and butter dey needed. Marster +sho' did b'lieve in seeing dat his Niggers had a plenty to eat.</p> + +<p>"Marster raised lots of chickens and de slaves raised chickens too if +dey wanted to. Marster let 'em have land to wuk for deyselves, but dey +had to wuk it atter dey come out of his fields. All dey made on dis land +wuz deir own to sell and do what dey wanted to wid. Lots of 'em plowed +and hoed by moonlight to make deir own crops.</p> + +<p>"Us used to hear tell of big sales of slaves, when sometimes mammies +would be sold away off from deir chilluns. It wuz awful, and dey would +jes' cry and pray and beg to be 'lowed to stay together. Old Marster +wouldn't do nothin' lak dat to us. He said it warn't right for de +chilluns to be tuk away from deir mammies. At dem sales dey would put a +Nigger on de scales and weigh him, and den de biddin' would start. If he +wuz young and strong, de biddin' would start 'round $150 and de highest +bidder got de Nigger. A good young breedin' 'oman brung $2,000 easy, +'cause all de Marsters wanted to see plenty of strong healthy chillun +comin' on all de time. Cyarpenters and bricklayers and blacksmiths brung +fancy prices from $3,000 to $5,000 sometimes. A Nigger what warn't no +more'n jes' a good field hand brung 'bout $200.</p> + +<p>"Dem bricklayers made all de bricks out of de red clay what dey had +right dar on most all de plantations, and de blacksmith he had to make +all de iron bars and cranes for de chimblies and fireplaces. He had to +make de plow points too and keep de farm tools all fixed up. Sometimes +at night dey slipped off de place to go out and wuk for money, a-fixin' +chimblies and buildin' things, but dey better not let demselves git +cotched.</p> + +<p>"Mammy wove de cloth for our clothes and de white folkses had 'em made +up. Quilts and all de bed-clothes wuz made out of homespun cloth.</p> + +<p>"De fus' Sadday atter Easter wuz allus a holiday for de slaves. Us wuz +proud of dat day 'cause dat wuz de onlies' day in de year a Nigger could +do 'zactly what he pleased. Dey could go huntin', fishin' or visitin', +but most of 'em used it to put in a good days wuk on de land what +Marster 'lowed 'em to use for deyselves. Some of 'em come to Athens and +help lay bricks on a new buildin' goin' up on Jackson Street. No Ma'am, +I done forgot what buildin' it wuz.</p> + +<p>"Us Niggers went to de white folkses churches. Mr. Louis Williams +preached at de Baptist Church on de fust Sundays, and Meferdiss +(Methodist) meetin's wuz on de second Sundays. Mr. Andy Bowden and Mr. +Scott Cowan wuz two of de Meferdiss preachers. Me and pa jined de +Baptis' Church. Ma wuz jes' a Meferdiss, but us all went to church +together. Dey had de baptizin's at de pool and dere wuz sho' a lot of +prayin' and shoutin' and singin' goin' on while de preacher done de +dippin' of 'em. De onliest one of dem baptizin' songs I can ricollect +now is, <i>Whar de Healin' Water Flows</i>. Dey waited 'til dey had a +crowd ready to be baptized and den dey tuk a whole Sunday for it and had +a big dinner on de ground at de church.</p> + +<p>"De sho' 'nough big days wuz dem camp meetin' days. White folkses and +Niggers all went to de same camp meetin's, and dey brung plenty 'long to +eat—big old loafs of light bread what had been baked in de skillets. De +night before dey sot it in de ovens to rise and by mawnin' it had done +riz most to de top of de deep old pans. Dey piled red coals all 'round +de ovens and when dat bread got done it wuz good 'nough for anybody. De +tables wuz loaded wid barbecued pigs and lambs and all de fried chicken +folkses could eat, and all sorts of pies and cakes wuz spread out wid de +other goodies.</p> + +<p>"Evvy plantation gen'ally had a barbecue and big dinner for Fourth of +July, and when sev'ral white famblies went in together, dey did have +high old times tryin' to see which one of 'em could git deir barbecue +done and ready to eat fust. Dey jus' et and drunk all day. No Ma'am, us +didn't know nuffin' 'bout what dey wuz celebratin' on Fourth of July, +'cept a big dinner and a good time.</p> + +<p>"When slaves got married, de man had to ax de gal's ma and pa for her +and den he had to ax de white folkses to 'low 'em to git married. De +white preacher married 'em. Dey hold right hands and de preacher ax de +man: 'Do you take dis gal to do de bes' you kin for her?' and if he say +yes, den dey had to change hands and jump over de broomstick and dey wuz +married. Our white folkses wuz all church folkses and didn't 'low no +dancin' at weddin's but dey give 'em big suppers when deir slaves got +married. If you married some gal on another place, you jus' got to see +her on Wednesday and Sadday nights and all de chilluns b'longed to de +gal's white folkses. You had to have a pass to go den, or de +patterollers wuz sho' to git you. Dem patterollers evermore did beat up +slaves if dey cotched 'em off dey own Marster's place 'thout no pass. If +Niggers could out run 'em and git on deir home lines dey wuz safe.</p> + +<p>"On our place when a slave died dey washed de corpse good wid plenty of +hot water and soap and wropt it in a windin' sheet, den laid it out on +de coolin' board and spread a snow white sheet over de whole business, +'til de coffin wuz made up. De windin' sheet wuz sorter lak a bed sheet +made extra long. De coolin' board wuz made lak a ironin' board 'cept it +had laigs. White folkses wuz laid out dat way same as Niggers. De +coffins wuz made in a day. Dey tuk de measurin' stick and measured de +head, de body, and de footses and made de coffin to fit dese +measurements. If it wuz a man what died, dey put a suit of clothes on +him before dey put him in de coffin. Dey buried de 'omans in da windin' +sheets. When de Niggers got from de fields some of 'em went and dug a +grave. Den dey put de coffin on de oxcart and carried it to de graveyard +whar dey jus' had a burial dat day. Dey waited 'bout two months +sometimes before dey preached de fun'ral sermon. For the fun'ral dey +built a brush arbor in front of de white folkses church, and de white +preacher preached de fun'ral sermon, and white folkses would come lissen +to slave fun'rals. De song most sung at fun'rals wuz <i>Hark from de +Tomb</i>. De reason dey had slave fun'rals so long atter de burial wuz +to have 'em on Sunday or some other time when de crops had been laid by +so de other slaves could be on hand.</p> + +<p>"When white folkses died deir fun'rals wuz preached before dey wuz +buried. Dat wuz de onliest diff'unce in de way dey buried de whites and +de Niggers. Warn't nobody embalmed dem days and de white folkses wuz +buried in a graveyard on de farm same as de Niggers wuz, and de same +oxcart took 'em all to de graveyard.</p> + +<p>"Our Marster done de overseein' at his place hisself, and he never had +no hired overseer. Nobody never got a lickin' on our plantation lessen +dey needed it bad, but when Marster did whup 'em dey knowed dey had been +whupped. Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' on our place and us all +knowed better'n to take what didn't b'long to us, 'cause Old Marster +sho' did git atter Niggers what stole. If one Nigger did kill another +Nigger, dey tuk him and locked him in da jailhouse for 30 days to make +his peace wid God. Evvy day de preacher would come read de Bible to him, +and when de 30 days wuz up, den dey would hang him by de neck 'til he +died. De man what done de hangin' read de Bible to de folkses what wuz +gathered 'round dar while de murderer wuz a-dyin'.</p> + +<p>"Its de devil makes folkses do bad, and dey all better change and serve +God-a-Mighty, so as he kin save 'em before its too late. I b'lieve +folkses 'haved better dem days dan dey does now. Marstar made 'em be +good 'round his place.</p> + +<p>"When us turned Marster's watch dogs loose at night, dey warn't nothin' +could come 'round dat place. Dey had to be kept chained up in de +daytime. Sometimes Marster let us take his dogs and go huntin' and dey +wuz de best 'possum trailers 'round dem parts. When dey barked up a +'simmon tree, us allus found a 'possum or two in dat tree. Sometimes +atter us cotched up lots of 'em, Marster let us have a 'possum supper. +Baked wid plenty of butter and 'tatoes and sprinkled over wid red +pepper, dey is mighty good eatments. My mouf's jus' a-waterin' 'cause +I'm thinkin' 'bout 'possums.</p> + +<p>"Yes Ma'am, us had corn shuckin's, and dey wuz big old times. Evvybody +from plantations miles 'round would take time out to come. Sometimes de +big piles of corn would make a line most a half a mile long, but when +all de Niggers got at dat corn de shucks sho' would fly and it wouldn't +be so long before all de wuk wuz done and dey would call us to supper. +Dere wuz barbecue and chickens, jus' a plenty for all de Niggers, and +corn bread made lak reg'lar light bread and sho' enough light bread too, +and lots of 'tato pies and all sorts of good things.</p> + +<p>"Atter da War wuz over, dey jus' turned de slaves loose widout nothin'. +Some stayed on wid Old Marster and wukked for a little money and dey +rations.</p> + +<p>"Pa went down on the Hubbard place and wukked for 40 dollars a year and +his rations. Ma made cloth for all de folkses 'round 'bout. Dey fotched +deir thread and she wove de cloth for 50 cents a day. If us made a good +crop, us wuz all right wid plenty of corn, peas, 'tatoes, cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, all de hog meat us needed, and chickens too. Us +started out widout nothin' and had to go in debt to de white folkses at +fust but dat wuz soon paid off. I never had no chance to go to school +and git book larnin'. All de time, us had to wuk in de fields.</p> + +<p>"Ku Kluxers went 'round wid dem doughfaces on heaps atter de War. De +Niggers got more beatin's from 'em dan dey had ever got from deir Old +Marsters. If a Nigger sassed white folkses or kilt a hoss, dem Kluxers +sho' did evermore beat him up. Dey never touched me for I stayed out of +deir way, but dey whupped my pa one time for bein' off his place atter +dark. When dey turned him loose, he couldn't hardly stand up. De Yankees +jus' about broke up de Ku Kluxers, but day sho' wuz bad on Niggers while +dey lasted.</p> + +<p>"I wuz 'bout 21 years old when us married. Us never had no chillun and +my wife done been daid for all dese long years, I don't know how many. I +can't wuk and I jus' has to stay hyar wid my daid brother's chillun. Dey +is mighty good to me, but I gits awful lonesome sometimes.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'am, I ain't never seed but one ghost. Late one night, I wuz +comin' by de graveyard and seed somethin' dat looked lak a dog 'ceppin' +it warn't no dog. It wuz white and went in a grave. It skeered me so I +made tracks gittin' 'way from dar in a hurry and I ain't never bean +'round no more graveyards at night.</p> + +<p>"When I passes by de old graveyard on Jackson Street, I 'members lots of +folkses whats buried dar, bofe white folkses and slaves too, for den +white folkses put dey slaves whar dey aimed to be buried deyselves. Dat +sho' used to be a fine graveyard.</p> + +<p>"Us all gwine to git together someday when us all leaves dis old world. +I'm ready to go; jus' a-waitin' for de Lord to call me home, and I ain't +skeered to face de Lord who will judge us all de same, 'cause I done +tried to do right, and I ain't 'fraid to die."</p> + +<p>Uncle Willis was tired and sent a little boy to the store for milk. As +the interviewer took her departure he said: "Good-bye Missy. God bless +you. Jus' put yourself in de hands of de Lord, for dey ain't no better +place to be."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ColbertMary"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +MARY COLBERT, Age 84<br> +168 Pearl Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Ga.</h3> +<br> + +<p>(<b>NOTE:</b> This is the first story we have had in which the client did not +use any dialect. Mary Colbert's grammar was excellent. Her skin was +almost white, and her hair was quite straight.</p> + +<p>None of us know what a "deep" slave was. It may have the same meaning as +outlandish Negro. The "outlandish Negroes" were those newly arrived +Negroes who had just come in from any country outside of the United +States of America, and were untrained. They were usually just from +Africa.</p> + +<p>Sarah H. Hall)</p> + + +<p>With the thermometer registering 93 degrees in the shade on a +particularly humid July day, the visitor trudged up one steep, rocky +alley and down another, hesitantly negotiated shaky little bridges over +several ravines, scrambled out of a ditch, and finally arrived at the +address of Mary Colbert. It was the noon hour. A Negro man had tied his +mule under an apple tree in one corner of Mary's yard. The animal was +peacefully munching hay while his master enjoyed lunch from a battered +tin bucket. Asked if Mary was at home, the man replied: "Yessum, jus' +call her at de door."</p> + +<p>A luxuriant Virginia creeper shaded the front porch of Mary's five-room +frame house, where a rap on the front door brought the response: "Here I +am, honey! Come right on through the house to the back porch." The aged +mulatto woman was hanging out clothes on a line suspended between two +peach trees. To the inquiry for Mary, she answered: "Yes, Honey, this is +Mary. They say I am old, childish, and hellish; anyway, this is Mary."</p> + +<p>"Dear, let's go in my parlor," she suggested in a cultured voice. "I +wouldn't dare go out on the front porch wearing this dirty dress. It +simply isn't my way of living." Mary is about five feet tall and wears +her straight, snowy-white hair in a neat knot low on the back of her +head. The sparkle in her bright brown eyes bespeaks a more youthful +spirit than her wrinkled and almost white face would indicate. She was +wearing a soiled print dress, brown cotton hose, and high-topped black +shoes. In remarkably good English for one of her race she told that her +daughter's family lives with her, "so that I won't be right by myself." +Then she began her story:</p> + +<p>"Honey, what is it you want me to tell you. Where was I born? Oh, my +child! I was born right here in dear old hilly Athens. Yes, that's where +I was born. Polly Crawford was my mother, and she belonged to Major +William H. Crawford before he gave her to his son, Marse John Crawford. +Now about my father, that is the dream. He died when I was just a little +child. They said he was Sandy Thomas and that he was owned by Marster +Obadiah Thomas, who lived in Oglethorpe County. All I can remember about +my grandparents is this: When I found my grandma, Hannah Crawford, she +was living on Major Crawford's plantation, where Crawford, Georgia, is +now. Grandma was a little, bitty woman; so little that she wore a number +one shoe. She was brought here from Virginia to be a field hand, but she +was smart as a whip, and lived to be 118 years old. I used to tell my +mother that I wished I was named Hannah for her, and so Mother called me +Mary Hannah.</p> + +<p>"I can't bring my grandfather to mind very clearly. I do remember that +my mother took me to Penfield to see him, and told me if I wasn't a good +little girl he would surely whip me. They called him 'Uncle Campfire', +because he had such a fiery temper. For a living, after he got to be an +old man, he made cheers (chairs), but for the life of me I don't know +who he belonged to, because Major Crawford sold him before I was born.</p> + +<p>"There were five of us children: Nat, Solomon, Susannah, Sarah, and +myself. Marse John gave Solomon to his daughter, Miss Fannie, when she +married Marse William H. Gerdine. Susannah belonged to Miss Rosa Golden, +and Sarah and I belonged to the other Miss Fannie. She was Marse John's +sister. Nat was Marse John's house boy, and our mother was his cook. We +children just played around the yard until we were large enough to work.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, I was born in Marse John's back yard. He lived in a +two-story frame house on Dougherty Street, back of Scudder's School. The +two slave houses and the kitchen were set off from the house a little +piece out in the yard. It was the style then to have the kitchen built +separate from the dwelling house.</p> + +<p>"Lord bless your life, Honey! We didn't live in log cabins, as you call +them. There were two slave houses. The one Aggie lived in was two-story, +the other one had just one story and they were both weatherboarded like +Marse John's own house. The grown folks slept on beds made with tall oak +posts. There were no metal springs then and the beds were corded +instead. The straw-stuffed mattress ticks were made with plain and +striped material, and pillows were filled with cotton. We children slept +on trundle beds, which were pushed up under the big beds in the daytime, +and pulled out for us to sleep on at night.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'm, there was never any money given to me in slavery time. +Remember, Dear, when the yankees came through here, I was only ten years +old. Misses Fannie and Ann Crawford were Major Crawford's daughters, and +they kept house for Marse John. That morning in May I was wearing a +sleeveless apron, and they (Miss Fannie and Miss Ann) put a bag of gold +and silver, and some old greenback Confederate money in my apron and +told me to hold on to it. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann, both of them, patted +me on the head and said: 'Now, be a good little girl and don't move.' On +came the Blue Coats: they went all over the house searching everything +with their guns and swords shining and flashing. I was so scared the +sweat was running down my face in streams. Bless your life! When they +came to the bedroom where I was standing by a bed, holding that money +inside my apron, they didn't even glance at me the second time. Little +did they think that little slave girl had the money they were hunting +for. After the yankees were gone, I gave it all back to Miss Fannie, and +she didn't give me the first penny. If any of the money was given to my +mother she didn't tell me about it.</p> + +<p>"I am going to tell you the truth about what we had to eat, so listen +now. It was egg bread, biscuits, peas, potatoes—they they were called +'taters then—artichoke pickles, tea cakes, pies, and good old healthy +lye hominy. There was plenty of meat served, but I was not allowed to +eat that, as I was never a very strong child. I was a fool about stale +bread, such as biscuit, cornbread, and light bread. Mother was a fine +cook and her battercakes would just melt in your mouth. Of course, you +know we had no stoves in those days and the cooking was done in open +fireplaces, in ovens and pots. Oh yes! We had a garden. There was only +one on the place and enough was raised in it to feed all of the people +living there.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember eating 'possums, rabbits, squirrels and fish until I +went to Jackson, Mississippi, with Miss Rosa. There were plenty of those +meats in Mississippi and I was then getting old enough and healthy +enough to be allowed to eat them."</p> + +<p>At this point, Mary insisted on serving lunch for her visitor, saying +that she had lived with white people and knew how to cook. After a +polite refusal, the story was continued:</p> + +<p>"I was laughing at myself just the other day about those homespun +dresses and sleeveless aprons I wore as a child. I reckon that was a +sign you were coming to ask me about those things. I kept one of those +dresses of mine until my own baby girl wore it out, and now I am sorry I +let her wear it, for it would be so nice to have it to show you. We wore +just a one piece costume in summer and had calico and muslin dresses for +Sunday. Wintertime, I wore a balmoral petticoat, osnaburg drawers, and +er-r-r. Well, Jacob! I never thought I would live to see the day I'd +forget what our dresses were called. Anyway they were of woolen +material in a checked design, and were made with a full skirt gathered +on to a deep yoke. Uncle Patrick Hull—he was a deep slave belonging to +Mr. A.L. Hull—made all the shoes for Marse John's slaves. We all wore +brass-toed brogans.</p> + +<p>"Oh, good! I should smile! A better man than Marse John never lived. +Nobody better not beat his slaves. Marse John was the postmaster. He +married Miss Sallie Eden, and everybody said she was mighty good, but I +never knew her for she died when I was a baby. Marse John and his wife, +Miss Sallie, had three children. They were: Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa and +Marse Allie. Miss Annie Crawford, who teaches in the school here, is +Marse Allie's daughter. She don't know me so well, but I know mighty +well who she is. I think I have already told you that Misses Fannie and +Rosa kept house for their brother, Marse John, after their mother died.</p> + +<p>"Darling, please get this right: the plantation is a dream to me. If I +should try to tell you about it, I am sure it would be only what my +mother told me about it in the years long after the surrender. Whether +the plantation was the property of Marse John or his father, William H. +Crawford, I don't know, but I am sure there was an overseer, and I am +quite sure it was a very large plantation. You know the town of Crawford +was named for my white folks. The only thing I can be sure of, from my +own memory, is of the things that took place here in Athens.</p> + +<p>"Breakfast had to be served promptly at 7:30. When that 9:00 o'clock +bell sounded at night, God bless your soul! You had to be in your house, +and you had to be in bed by 10:00 o'clock. Marse John never punished +but just two of his slaves that I can remember, but I have seen them get +several good whippings. They were Ned and William, Aggie's and Lucy's +boys, and Marse John cowhided them for misbehaving.</p> + +<p>"There were jails during slavery time, but Marse John kept his slaves +straight himself and did not allow any of them to be taken to jail. I +have never seen slaves sold, but I have seen droves of them marching by, +being taken to Watkinsville to be sold.</p> + +<p>"No! No! Oh! No! You had better not dare let white people know that you +could read, in those days. I remember one colored man, Alfred Evans, who +used to read the Bible during slavery time. All the learning I have, I +got after we were made free. There were two colored churches in Athens; +one was Baptist and the other was Methodist. Yankee ladies came down +from the North and taught us to read and write. I have often considered +writing the history of my life and finally decided to undertake it, but +I found that it was more of a job than I had expected it to be, and then +too, I would have to tell too much, so I thought best to leave it alone.</p> + +<p>"I went to church but very little during slavery time. However, I dearly +loved to go to Sunday school, and never missed an opportunity of +attending. One of our Sunday school songs was worded something like +this:</p> + +<pre> +'I want to be an angel, + And with the angels stand.' +</pre> + +<p>"My favorite song began:</p> + +<pre> +'Around the Throne in Heaven, + Ten Thousand children stand.' +</pre> + +<p>"OO! Yes, I know how they buried folks in slavery time. For caskets they +used straight, white pine boxes that they called coffins. They didn't +have funerals like they do now. A preacher would say a few words at the +grave and then he prayed, and after that everybody sang something like: +'I will arise and go to Jesus.' I was a singer in my younger days.</p> + +<p>"All I remember 'bout Negroes going off to the North was when their +masters took them along on trips to wait on them. Bless your life! That +was one time when the ones that could read and write had the advantage. +They were usually chosen to go along so if anything happened to the +Marster on the trip, they could write back home. I never saw patrollers, +but I heard that they used to beat up Negroes who were caught away from +home without a pass. Marse John kept his slaves supplied with passes at +all necessary times.</p> + +<p>"Not all the slaves had to work on Saturday afternoons. This was their +time of the week to get together and have a little fun around their +quarters. Sunday mornings they went to church, as a rule, and on Sunday +nights they visited each other and held prayer meetings in their homes. +Don't get me wrong. They had to have passes to go visiting and attend +those prayer meetings.</p> + +<p>"Christmas time was a holiday season for slaves, and they had everything +good you could want to eat. Listen, Child, I am telling you the truth. +They even had pumpkin pie. Oh, yes! Santa Claus came to see slave +children. Once I got too smart for my own good. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann +had told us to go to bed early. They said if we weren't asleep when +Santa Claus got there, he would go away and never come back. Well, that +night I made up my mind to stay awake and see Santa Claus. Miss Fannie +and Miss Ann slipped into our quarters right easy and quiet and were +filling up stockings with candy, dolls, and everything you can imagine. +While they were doing that, they turned around and saw me with my eyes +wide open. Right there my Santa Claus ended. We didn't have any special +observance of New Year's Day. It was the same as any other day.</p> + +<p>"Mother said they had cornshuckings, quiltings, and cotton pickings on +the plantation. She told me a good deal about the cornshuckings: about +how they selected a general, whose job was to get up on top of the corn +pile and holler at the top of his voice, leading the cornshucking song, +while the others all shucked the corn and sang. After the corn was all +shucked there were always fine eats. I can remember the quiltings +myself. The women went from one house to another and quilted as many as +12 quilts in one night sometimes. After the quilts were all finished +they had a big spread of good food too. Now it takes a whole month to +quilt one quilt and nothing to eat.</p> + +<p>"What games did we play? Let me see. Oh! yes, one of them was played to +the rhyme:</p> + +<pre> +'Chickimy, chickimy, Craney Crow + I went to the well to wash my toe, + When I got back my chicken was gone + What time, Old Witch?' +</pre> + +<p>"Then we would run and chase each other. Another game was played to the +counting-out by the rhyme that started:</p> + +<pre> +'Mollie, Mollie Bright, three-score and ten.' +</pre> + +<p>"Honey, there is no use to ask me about Raw Head and Bloody Bones. When +folks started talking about that, I always left the room. It is a shame +how folks do frighten children trying to make them get quiet and go to +sleep. I don't believe in ha'nts and ghosts. Since I have been grown, I +have been around so many dead folks I have learned that the dead can't +harm you; its the living that make the trouble.</p> + +<p>"When his slaves were taken sick, Marse John always called in a doctor. +An old woman, who was known as 'Aunt Fannie,' was set aside to nurse +sick slaves. Dr. Joe Carlton was Marse John's doctor. What I am going to +tell you is no fairy tale. Once I was so sick that Marse John called in +Dr. Carlton, Dr. Richard M. Smith, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. James +Long, before they found out what was wrong with me. I had inflammatory +rheumatism and I wore out two and a half pairs of crutches before I +could walk good again. Now, Dr. Crawford Long is a great and famous man +in history, but it is sure true that he doctored on this old Negro many +years ago.</p> + +<p>"Honey, don't flatter me. Don't you know a little girl 10 years old +can't remember everything that went on that far back. A few things they +dosed the slaves with when they were sick was horehound tea, garlic +mixed with whiskey, and the worm-few (vermifuge?) tea that they gave to +Negro children for worms. That worm-few dose was given in April. +Asafetida was used on us at all times and sage tea was considered a +splendid medicine.</p> + +<p>"When news came that Negroes had been freed there was a happy jubilee +time. Marse John explained the new freedom to his slaves and we were +glad and sorry too. My mother stayed with Marse John until he died. I +was still a child and had never had to do anything more than play dolls, +and keep the children in the yard. Lord, Honey! I had a fine time those +days.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't so long after the surrender before schools for Negroes were +opened. It looked like they went wild trying to do just like their white +folks had done. As for buying homes, I don't know where they would have +gotten the money to pay for homes and land.</p> + +<p>"At the time I married I was a washerwoman for the white folks. My first +husband was Isaac Dixon, who came from some place in Alabama and had +been owned by Dr. Lipscomb, the chancelor of the university. Dr. +Lipscomb married us in the colored Methodist Church, and that night the +church was crowded to overflowing. I wore a white dress made with a long +train; that was the style then. After the ceremony, my mother served +cake and wine at her house. Our six children were prettier than you, but +only three of them lived to get grown. Our white friends named our +children. My first husband died and then I married Jones Colbert, who +belonged to Marse Fletcher Colbert of Madison County. We just went +around to the preacher's house and got married. Jones was an old man +when I married him. He was a preacher. He is dead now and so are all my +children except one. I have one grandson, and this is the shameful part +about him; his mother won't married when he was born, but of course she +married later.</p> + +<p>"Now I am going to tell you the truth as I see it. Abraham Lincoln was +an instrument of God sent to set us free, for it was God's will that we +should be freed. I never did hitch my mind on Jeff Davis; like the +children of Israel, he had his time to rule. Booker T. Washington! Well, +now I didn't give him a thought. He had to do his part. His mistress had +taught him to read.</p> + +<p>"Why did I join the church? Well, when the white folks sent their help +off to Mississippi trying to keep them slaves, my sister and I went with +Miss Rosa Crawford to Jackson. Before I left home my mother gave me an +alabaster doll and told me to be a good girl and pray every night. Well, +I never saw so many slave-houses in my life as I saw in Mississippi. +Every night when I heard a colored man named Ben praying in his room +that made me think of what my mother had told me and I grew more and +more homesick for her. Finally one night I crept into Uncle Ben's room +and asked him to tell me about God, and he did. After that, every night +I went into his room and we prayed together. Yes, Honey, I found God in +Jackson, Mississippi, and I joined the church just as soon as I could +after I got back to my mother and dear old Athens.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Honey, I was raised and loved by my own white folks and, when I +grew to be old enough and large enough, I worked for them. I have been +with, or worked for, white folks all my life and, just let me tell you, +I had the best white folks in the world, but it was by God's plan that +the Negroes were set free."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ColeJohn"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 1<br> +Ex. Slave #21<br> +(with Photograph)]<br> +<br> +[HW: "JOHN COLE"]<br> +<br> +Subject: A SLAVE REMEMBERS<br> +District: No. 1 W.P.A<br> +Editor: Edward Ficklen<br> +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p><b>A SLAVE REMEMBERS</b></p> + +<p>The front door of a little vine-clad cottage on Billups Street, in +Athens, Georgia quaked open and John Cole, ex-slave confronted a +"gov'mint man."</p> +<br> + +<a name="img_JC"></a> + +<center><p> +<img src='images/jcole.jpg' width='250' height='328' alt='John Cole'> +</p></center> + +<p>Yes, he was the son of Lucius Cole and Betsy Cole, was in his 86th year, +and remembered the time "way back" when other gov'mint men with their +strange ways had descended on Athens.</p> + +<p>And far beyond that, back to the time when they had tried him out as a +scullion boy in the big town house where his mother was the cook, but it +seemed that the trays always escaped his clumsy young hands.</p> + +<p>So "Marse Henry" had put him on the 200 acre Oglethorpe plantation as +apprentice to training of the farm horses whose large unmanageableness +he found more manageable than the dainty china of the banker's house. He +simply had followed more after his father, the carriage driver than his +mother, the cook.</p> + +<p>Of course, all fifteen of the hands worked from sun-up to sun-down, but +his aunt was the plantation cook, and it was not so bad there.</p> + +<p>The night brought no counsel, but it brought better. Stretch cow-hides +over cheese-boxes and you had tambourines. Saw bones from off a cow, +knock them together, and call it [HW: a drum]. Or use broom-straws, on +fiddle-strings, and you had your entire orchestra.</p> + +<p>Grow older, and get by the gates with a pass (you had to have a pass or +the paddle-rollers would get you,) and you had you a woman. If the woman +wasn't willing, a good, hard-working hand could always get the master to +make the girl marry him—whether or no, willy-nilly.</p> + +<p>If a hand were noted for raising up strong black bucks, bucks that would +never "let the monkey get them" while in the high-noon hoeing, he would +be sent out as a species of circuit-rider to the other plantations—to +plantations where there was over-plus of "worthless young nigger gals". +There he would be "married off" again—time and again. This was thrifty +and saved any actual purchase of new stock.</p> + +<p>Always on Saturday afternoon you would have till "first dark" for +base-ball, and from first dark till Sunday-go-to meeting for drinking +and dancing. Sunday you could go to the colored church (with benefit of +white clergy) or you could go to the white church just like real class +except you sat in the rear.</p> + +<p>No, it was not a bad life.</p> + +<p>You usually weren't sick, but if you were sick, it afforded you the +luxury of tea. Turpentine and caster oil composed the entire <i>materia +medica</i>. Turpentine was used for sore throats, cuts and bruises. +Castor oil was used for everything else except a major fracture which +called for the master sending in a doctor to the quarters.</p> + +<p>Yes, the gov'mint men with the blue uniforms and the shiny brass buttons +had descended from the North on Athens—descended in spite of the +double-barrelled cannon that the little master and the little master's +men had tried on them. The blue clad invaders had come in despite of the +quick breast-works, and the new-fangled cannon, and Bob Toombs boast +that he "could beat the damn Yankees with corn-stalks before breakfast". +(If only they had fought that way—if only they had [HW: not] needed +grape-shot had enough to invent cannon mouths that spoke at the same +time and were meant to mow down men with a long chain—if only they had +not been able to fight long after Bull Run, and after breakfast!)</p> + +<p>Yes, the Yankees had come over the classic hills of Athens (Athens that +had so many hills that she would have been named Rome except for her +first land-grant college,) had left, and had come again to stay, and to +bring freedom to John Cole and his kind.</p> + +<p>This was six months after Lee and his palandins had laid down the +sword—the gallant, the unstained (but, alas, claimed Meade's batteries) +the unconstitutional sword. Six months had gone and freedom had come.</p> + +<p>But John Cole, slave of Henry Hull, the banker, found that his freedom +was the freedom of "the big oak"—Athens famed tree-that-owns-itself. He +was free, but he had no way to go anywhere. He was rooted in the soil +and would stay fast rooted. He worked on with his master for 20 years, +without pay.</p> + +<p>Did he believe, back in slavery time in "signs" and in "sayings"—that +the itching foot meant the journey to new lands—that the hound's +midnight threnody meant murder?</p> + +<p>No, when he was a young buck and had managed the bad horses, he had had +no such beliefs. No, he was not superstitious. If the foot itched +something ought to be put on it (or taken off it)—and as to the hounds +yelping, nobody ever knew what dark-time foolishness a hound-dog might +be up to.</p> + +<p>But he was old, now. Death always comes in the afternoon. He does +believe in things that have been proved. He does believe that a +squinch-owl's screeching ("V-o-o-o-d-o-o! W-h-o-o-o? Y-ou-u!") is a sure +sign of death. Lowing of a cow in afternoon Georgia meadows means death +mighty close. If death come down to a house, better stop clock and put +white cloth on mirrors. No loud talking permitted. Better for any nigger +to bow low down to death....</p> + +<p>To what factors did he attribute his long life, queried the gov'mint +man.</p> + +<p>Long living came from leaving off smoking and drinking.</p> + +<p>Would he have a nickle cigar?</p> + +<p>He would.</p> + +<p>Yes, he was feeling quite tol'able, thank you. But he believed now in +the owl and the cow and the clock.</p> + +<p>In the morning-time one lives, but death always come in the afternoon. +Better for any nigger, anywhere, to bow low down to death.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ColeJulia"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br> +<br> +JULIA COLE, Age 78<br> +169 Yonah Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Corry Fowler<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7</h3> +<br> + +<p>A knock on the door of the comfortable little frame house which Julia +Cole shares with her daughter, Rosa, brought the response, "Who dat?" +Soon Rosa appeared. "Come in Honey and have a cheer," was her greeting +and she added that Julia had "stepped across de street to visit 'round a +little." Soon the neighborhood was echoing and reverberating as the +call, "Tell Aunt Julia somebody wants to see her at her house," was +repeated from cabin to cabin. A few moments later Julia walked in. +Yellowish gingercake in color, and of rather dumpy figure, she presented +a clean, neat appearance. She and her daughter, who cooks for a +dentist's family, take much pride in their attractively furnished home. +Julia was of pleasant manner and seemed anxious to tell all that she +could. It is doubtful if Rosa made much progress with her ironing in an +adjoining room, for every few minutes she came to the door to remind her +mother of some incident that she had heard her tell before.</p> + +<p>Julia began her story by saying: "I was born in Monroe, Georgia and +b'longed to Marster John Grant. My Mamma was Mittie Johnson, and she +died de year 'fore de war ended. I don't 'member my Pa. Mamma had four +chillun. Richard and Thomas Grant was my brothers, but me and my sister +Hattie was Johnsons. Marse John had a big plantation and a heap of +slaves. Dey was rich, his folks was. Dey is de folks dat give Grant's +Park to Atlanta.</p> + +<p>"Dey called my grandpa, 'Uncle Abram.' Atter he had wukked hard in de +field all day, he would jus' lay down on a bench at night and sleep +widout pullin' off his clothes. Us had home-made beds in de cabins +widout no paint on 'em. Evvything slaves had was home-made, jus' +wooden-legged things. Even de coffins was made at home out of pine wood. +Now me, I didn't sleep in de cabin much. I slept on a little trundle bed +up at de big house. In de daytime my bed was pushed back up under one of +de big beds.</p> + +<p>"Marse John's son, Marse Willie Grant, blowed de bugle in de mornin's by +4 o'clock to git de slaves up in time to be in de fields by daybreak. +When slaves got too old to wuk, dey took keer of de chillun in a house +down below de kitchen. Mamma wukked in de field when she was able. +Nobody on our place had to wuk in de fields on Sadday evenin's. Dat was +de time de 'omans washed deir clothes and cleaned up.</p> + +<p>"Chillun didn't have much to do. Us loved to hunt for turkey nests +'cause dey give us a teacake for evvy turkey egg us fetched in. Chillun +et in de yard at de big house, whar dey give us plenty of meat and +cornbread wid good vegetables for dinner. For breakfast and supper, us +had mostly buttermilk and cornbread. On Sundays us had bread made from +wheat flour and sopped good old syrup wid it. Sometimes Marse John would +give us 'mission to kill little pigs at night and broil 'em over de +coals in our yards, and how us did enjoy 'em! I ain't never suffered for +nothin' in all my life, 'cause de Grants was mighty good white folks. De +old White home on Prince Avenue was deir summer home. When dey built it, +woods was all 'round and dere warn't many houses in dat section.</p> + +<p>"Us had plenty of clothes made out of homespun checks, and Marse John +give us brass-toed shoes. Our dresses was well sewed and made wid belts +to 'em. Nobody went 'bout half naked on our plantation lak some of de +old folks f'um other farms talks 'bout. Us had good well-made clothes, +even if dey was made out of common cloth.</p> + +<p>"Nobody on our plantation run away to de North, and de paddyrollers +didn't git nobody at our place neither. Marse John was too good to +evvybody for his slaves to want to cut up and run 'way and do things to +make de paddyrollers hunt 'em down. Dey didn't have no jails 'cause dey +didn't need none on our place. Sometimes Marse John made a colored man +named Uncle Jim Cooper give 'em a good whuppin' when dey needed it.</p> + +<p>"When us was sick, dey give us herbs and things of dat sort. In de +springtime, dey give us jerusalem oak seed in syrup for nine mornin's +and by den us was allus rid of de worms. Dey 'tended to slave chillun so +good and dutiful dat dere warn't many of 'em died, and I don't never +'member no doctor comin' to my Mamma's house.</p> + +<p>"Old Missus used to teach us in da blue back speller, and when I didn't +know my lesson she made me run f'um de house to de gyarden gate for +punishment. De more words I missed; de more times I had to run. Us had +our own church services on de plantation under home-made brush arbors, +and our colored preacher was Uncle Charles Cooper.</p> + +<p>"Once some sojers come by our place lookin' for Marse John. He had done +hid in de loft of de meat house and told evvybody on de place dey better +not tell whar he was. Dey didn't find Marse John, but dey did find his +son, Marse Willie, and dey tuk him 'long wid 'em. Marse Willie was de +only chile dat Marster and Missus had and it nearly killed 'em for him +to be tuk 'way from 'em. When Mr. Lincoln's general got to our place he +was a-ridin' a big red hoss dat sho' was a grand animal. Dem sojers went +in de smokehouses and stores evvywhar and tuk what dey wanted.</p> + +<p>"Not long 'fore de war ended, my Mamma tuk a 'lapse f'um measles and +died. 'Fore she died, she sont for Marse John and told him what she +wanted done, and he done jus' what she axed. She give him my brothers, +Richard and Thomas, and told him to take dem two boys and to make men +out of 'em by makin' 'em wuk hard. I jus' lak to have died when my Mamma +died. Dey carried her to de graveyard and put her down in de grave and I +jus' couldn't help it; I jumped right down in dat grave wid her, and dey +had to take me out. My brothers said I was plum crazy dat day.</p> + +<p>"Atter de war was over, Marster moved his family to Atlanta on Peachtree +Street. His grandson dat was born dat year died not long ago. Dey didn't +have no farm in Atlanta and so dey didn't need all deir old servants. My +sister Hattie was a baby and Auntie tuk her to Atlanta wid de Grants.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what 'come of de others on Marster's farm. I had to git in +a covered wagon and come wid my Uncle Jordan Johnson to Athens. I didn't +want to leave, and I hid down under our things in de wagon when dey made +me come. When us crossed de river, I was sho' us was 'bout to git +drownded. One time atter dat us tuk a trip to Madison to see de old +breastplates (breastworks) dar.</p> + +<p>"My brother Tom got to be captain of a colored troop dat went to de +Philippine Islands. Over dar de sojers kilt a big snake and et it all +but de head. He had dat thing stuffed and brought it home. Atter he left +de army, he got a job in de Atlanta Post Office whar he wukked 'til he +was 'tired.</p> + +<p>"I was hired out to de Marks family and stayed dar for years and dat was +a mighty good place to be hired out. I was married twice. Me and Crit +Clayton married at home. I ain't never seed nothin' lak dat pretty +flowerdy weddin' dress dat I wore and I had de prettiest hat and things +dat I ever seed. My next husband was Andrew Cole—He was Rosa's Pa. I +forgits de name of de white preacher dat married us when us went to his +house and axed him to. Four of our seven chillun is still livin'.</p> + +<p>"Dey tells me our old big house near Monroe is standin' yit, and I sho' +do wish I could see it once more 'fore I die, but since I broke my hip a +few years ago I jus' don't ride in dem automobiles. No Ma'am, I don't +limp. De Lord was good to heal my hip and I ain't takin' no chances on +breakin' no more of my bones."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ColquittMartha"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +MARTHA COLQUITT, Age 85<br> +190 Lyndon Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>The aged Negress leaned heavily on her cane as she shuffled about her +tiny porch in the waning sunlight of a cold January day. An airplane +writing an advertising slogan in letters of smoke high in the sky was +receiving but indifferent attention from Aunt Martha. Sha shivered and +occasionally leaned against a post until a paroxysm of coughing +subsided. "What would you have thought of that if it had suddenly +appeared in the sky when you were a child?" she was asked. "It would +have scared me plum to death," was the response. "I didn't come out here +just to see dat," she continued, "I didn't have nothin' to make no fire +wid, and I had to git out in de sunshine 'cause it wuz too cold to stay +in de house. It sho' is mighty bad to have to go to bed wid cold feet +and cough all night long."</p> + +<p>Her visitor could not resist the impulse to say, "Let's make a trade, +Aunt Martha! If I give you a little money will you buy wood; then while +you enjoy the fire will you think back over your life and tell me about +your experiences when I come back tomorrow?" "Bless de Lord! I sho' will +be glad to tell you de truf 'bout anything I can 'member," was her quick +reply as she reached for the money.</p> +<br> + +<p><b>[TR: Return Visit]</b></p> + +<p>The next day Aunt Martha was in bed, slowly eating a bowl of potlicker +and turnip greens into which cornbread had been crumbled.</p> + +<p>"My ches' hurt so bad I couldn't git up today," was her greeting, "but +set right dar by my bed and I can talk all right, long as I don't have +to walk 'bout none. Walkin' makes me cough."</p> + +<p>Soon the bowl was empty and when she had wiped her mouth with the sleeve +of her nightgown, Aunt Martha began:</p> + +<p>"When I wuz born, my ma b'longed to Marse Billie Glenn and us lived on +his big plantation way down below Lexin'ton. My pa wuz Anderson +Mitchell. He come from Milledgeville and b'longed to Mr. D. Smith. The +Smithies lived close by Marse Billie's place. My ma wuz Healon Mitchell. +I don't know what her last name wuz 'fore she married. She wuz born in +Virginny, and her and my grandma wuz sold and brought to Georgia when ma +wuz a baby. Grandma never did see none of her other chillun or her +husband no more, and us never did hear nothin' 'bout 'em.</p> + +<p>"Ma had four chillun. Lucy wuz my onlies' sister. Mr. Davenport bought +her and she growed up at his place, what wuz called 'De Glade.' It wuz a +big fine place at Point Peter, Georgia. Lucy married a Taylor.</p> + +<p>"My brother, Isaac, wuz raised at Mr. Hamilton's place at Point Peter. +After he growed up, he worked in Atlanta and bought him a home dar. He +got in a fight wid a man what had done stobbed his mule, and de man hurt +Isaac so bad he went crazy and died in de 'sylum at Milledgeville, but +dey took him back and buried him in Atlanta.</p> + +<p>"My other brother wuz Anderson Mitchell, and after freedom come he got +work in Athens at de compress. His boss man moved to Augusta and took +Anderson wid him to work in de compress dar. One day somethin' blowed up +and he wuz scalded so bad it paralyzed him. Dey brought him back here, +but he soon died.</p> + +<p>"Ma's house was right on de edge of Marse Billie's yard, 'cause she was +de cook. Grandma lived in de same house wid ma and us chillun, and she +worked in de loom house and wove cloth all de time. She wove de checkidy +cloth for de slaves clo'es, and she made flannel cloth too, leaseways, +it wuz part flannel. She made heaps of kinds of cloth.</p> + +<p>"Our beds had big home-made posties and frames, and us used ropes for +springs. Grandma brought her feather bed wid her from Virginny, and she +used to piece up a heap of quilts outen our ole clo'es and any kind of +scraps she could get a holt of. I don't know what de others had in dey +cabins 'cause ma didn't 'low her chillun to visit 'round de other +folkses none.</p> + +<p>"Ma's chillun all had vittals from de white folkses kitchen. After Marse +Billie's fambly done et and left de table, de cook wuz s'posed to take +what wuz left to feed de house niggers and her own chillun, and us did +have sho' 'nuff good vittals. All de other slave folks had day rations +weighed out to 'em every week and dey cooked in dey own cabins. When de +wheat wuz ground at de mill it made white flour, and shorts, and +seconds. Most of de shorts wuz weighed out in rations for de slave +folks. Now and den at Christmas and special times dey got a little white +flour. Dey liked cornbread for reg'lar eatin'. Dey wuz always lots of +hogs on Marse Billie's plantation, and his colored folkses had plenty of +side meat. Slaves never had no time to hunt in de day time, but dey sho' +could catch lots of 'possums at night, and dey knowed how to git catfish +at night too.</p> + +<p>"'Cross de road from de Big 'Ouse, Marse Billie had a big gyarden, and +he seed dat his help had plenty of somethin' good to bile. Dey won't no +separate gyardens. Dey didn't have no time to work no gyardens of dey +own.</p> + +<p>"In summertime us chillun wore just one piece of clo'es. It wuz a sack +apron. In winter grandma made us yarn underskirts and yarn drawers +buttoned down over our knees. Ma made our home-knit stockings. Dey +called our brass toed shoes 'brogans.' I don't speck you ever seed a +brass toed shoe!</p> + +<p>"Our Big 'Ouse sho' wuz one grand fine place. Why, it must have been as +big as de Mill Stone Baptist Church! It wuz all painted white wid green +blinds and had a big old high porch dat went nigh all 'round de house.</p> + +<p>"If I ever did hear what Marse Billie's wife wuz named, I done plum +clear forgot. Us called her 'Mist'ess' long as she lived and I don't +recollect hearin' her called nothin' else. Marster and Mist'ess never +had no little chillun whilst I was dar. Miss Lizzie wuz dey youngest +child and she wuz most grown when I wuz born.</p> + +<p>"Marse Billie's overseer lived in a four-room house up de road a piece +from the Big 'Ouse. Nobody thought 'bout none of Marse Billie's +overseers as pore white folkses. Every overseer he ever had wuz decent +and 'spectable. Course dey won't in de same class wid Marse Billie's +fambly, but dey was all right. Dey wuz four or five homes nigh our +plantation, but all of 'em b'longed to rich white folkses. If dey wuz +any pore white folkses 'round dar, us chillun never heared nothin' of +'em.</p> + +<p>"I don't know just how many slaves Marse Billie had, but dey sho' was a +drove of 'em. Sometimes he had 'em all git together in de back yard at +de Big 'Ouse, and dey just filled up de yard.</p> + +<p>"De overseer blowed a horn to wake 'em up just 'fore day, so as +everybody could cook, eat, and git out to de fields by sunrise. Dey quit +nigh sundown, in time for 'em to feed de stock, do de milkin', tend to +bringin' in de wood, and all sorts of other little jobs dat had to be +done 'fore it got too dark to see. Dey never wuz no work done at night +on our plantation.</p> + +<p>"If any of Marse Billie's help wuz whipped, I never knowed nothin' 'bout +it. Dey used to say dat if any of 'em didn't work right de overseer +would take 'em to de workshop. Us chillun never did know what happened +when dey took 'em to de workshop. It wuz too fur away for us to hear +what happened dar. De workshop was a big lone shed off to itself, whar +dey had da blacksmith place, and whar harness wuz mended, and all sorts +of fixin' done to de tools and things.</p> + +<p>"Us never heared of no jail. Marse Billie bossed his place and us never +knowed 'bout no trouble. De workshop wuz de nighest thing to a jail or a +court dat anybody on our plantation knowed anything 'bout. Us never seed +nobody in chains 'til long atter de War, when us wuz livin' in +Lexin'ton, and Mr. Jim Smith come through dar wid some colored folkses +all chained up, but us never did know how come dey wuz chained.</p> + +<p>"No slave never runned away fron Marse Billie's plantation. Dey never +even wanted to try. Dey wuz always 'fraid dey might not be able to take +as good keer of deyselves as Marse Billie did for 'em, and dey didn't +know what would happen to 'em off de plantation.</p> + +<p>"I heared 'em talkin' 'bout paterollers, but I never did see one. +Folkses said dey would git you and beat you if dey cotch you off de +plantation whar you b'longed 'thout no pass. If any of Marse Billie's +slaves got cotched by de paterollers, I never knowed nothin' 'bout it.</p> + +<p>"I never heared of no trouble twixt de white folkses and dey colored +folkses. Grandma and ma never 'lowed us to go to no other cabins, and us +didn't hear 'bout no talk what wuz goin' on 'mongst de others. At night +ma always spinned and knit, and grandma, she sewed, makin' clo'es for us +chillun. Dey done it 'cause dey wanted to. Dey wuz workin' for deyselves +den. Dey won't made to work at night. On Sadday night, ma bathed all her +chillun. I don't know what de other famblies done den. Slaves wuz 'lowed +to frolic Sadday night, if dey b'haved deyselves. On Sunday nights dey +most always had prayer meetings.</p> + +<p>"On Christmas mornin' all of us would come up to de yard back of de Big +'Ouse and Marse Billie and de overseer handed out presents for all. Dey +wuz a little dram and cake too. Us chillun got dolls, and dresses, and +aprons. Them stuffed rag dolls wuz de prettiest things! On New Year's +day all de mens would come up to de Big 'Ouse early in de morning and +would work lively as dey could a-cuttin' wood and doing all sorts of +little jobs 'til de dinner bell rung. Den Marse Billie would come out +and tell 'em dey wuz startin' de New Year right a-workin' lively and +fast. Den he would say dat dey would be fed good and looked atter good, +long as dey worked good. He give 'em a good taste of dram and cake all +'round, and let 'em go back to dey cabins for dinner, and dey could +have de rest of de day to frolic.</p> + +<p>"Dem cornshuckin's us used to have sho' wuz a sight. Corn would be piled +up high as dis house, and de folkses would dance 'round and holler and +whoop. Ma 'lowed us chillun to watch 'em 'bout a half hour; den made us +come back inside our cabin, 'cause dey always give de corn shuckin' +folkses some dram, and things would git mighty lively and rough by de +time all de corn wuz shucked.</p> + +<p>"On bright moonshiny nights folkses would invite de neighbors to come +for cotton pickin's. After the cotton wuz picked dey would eat barbecue, +and dance and have a big time.</p> + +<p>"I never seed but one weddin' 'fore freedom come, and dat wuz when Marse +Billie's daughter, Miss Lizzie Glenn, married Mr. Deadwyler. Dey had +everything at dat weddin'. Yes, Ma'am, just everything. Miss Lizzie had +on a white silk dress a-trailin' so far behind her dat it took two +ladies to tote her train. Her veil wuz floatin' all 'bout her, and she +wuz just de prettiest thing I ever did see in my whole life. A long time +atter dat, Mr. Deadwyler, he died, and left Miss Lizzie wid two chillun, +and she married Mr. Roan.</p> + +<p>"I never seed no slave marriage. Ma went to 'em sometimes, but she never +'lowed us to go, 'cause she said us wuz too little. Marse Billie sont +atter his own preacher, and de couple would come up to de Big 'Ouse and +stand in de parlor door to be married 'fore Marster and Mist'ess. Den de +colored folkses would go back down to da cabins and have a weddin' +supper and frolic and dance. Dat's what ma told me 'bout 'em.</p> + +<p>"Us used to play lots, but us never did have no special name for our +playin'. 'Swingin' the Corner,' wuz when us all jined hands in a low +row, and de leader would begin to run 'round in circles, and at de other +end of de line dey would soon be runnin' so fast dey wuz most flyin'.</p> + +<p>"Us all de time heared folkses talkin' 'bout voodoo, but my grandma wuz +powerful 'ligious, and her and ma told us chillun voodoo wuz a no 'count +doin' of de devil, and Christians wuz never to pay it no 'tention. Us +wuz to be happy in de Lord, and let voodoo and de devil alone. None of +us liked to hear scritch owls holler, 'cause everybody thought it meant +somebody in dat house wuz goin' to die if a scritch owl lit on your +chimney and hollered, so us would stir up de fire to make the smoke +drive him away. I always runned out and tried to see 'em, but old as I +is, nigh 86, I ain't never seed no scritch owl.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ma'am, I sho' does b'lieve in ha'nts, 'cause I done heared one and +I seed it too, leasewise I seed its light. It wuz 'bout 30 years ago, +and us had just moved in a house whar a white fambly had moved out. The +ma had died a few days atter a little baby wuz born, and de baby had +died too. One night I heared a strange sound like somebody movin' 'round +in de house, and pretty soon a dim light comes a-movin' into my room +real slow and atter goin' 'round de room it went out of sight in de +closet.</p> + +<p>"Next day I went to see de white folkses what had lived dar 'fore us +moved in, and de husband tole me not to worry, dat it wuz his wife's +ha'nt. He said she wuz huntin' for some money she had hid in de house, +'cause she wanted her chillun what wuz still livin' to have it. I went +back home and 'most tore dat house down lookin' for dat money. Long as +us lived dar I would see dat light now and den at night, and I always +hoped it would lead me to de money but it never did.</p> + +<p>"When folkses got sick, Marse Billie had 'em looked atter. Mist'ess +would come every day to see 'bout 'em, and if she thought dey wuz bad +off, she sont atter Dr. Davenport. Dr. Davenport come dar so much 'til +he courted and married Marse Billie's daughter, Miss Martha Glenn. I wuz +named for Miss Martha. Dey sho' did take special good keer of de mammies +and de babies. Dey had a separate house for 'em, and a granny 'oman who +didn't have nothin' else to do but look atter colored babies and +mammies. De granny 'oman took de place of a doctor when de babies wuz +born, but if she found a mammy in a bad fix she would ax Mist'ess to +send for Dr. Davenport.</p> + +<p>"Us didn't have no separate church for colored folkses. De white folkses +had a big Baptist church dey called Mill Stone Church down at Goosepond, +a good ways down de road from Marse Billie's plantation. It sho' wuz a +pretty sight to see, dat church, all painted white and set in a big oak +grove. Colored folkses had dey place in de gallery. Dey won't 'lowed to +jine de church on Sunday, but dey had reg'lar Sadday afternoons for de +slaves to come and 'fess dey faith, and jine de church. Us didn't know +dey wuz no other church but de Baptist. All de baptizin' wuz done on +Sunday by de white preacher. First he would baptize de white folkses in +de pool back of de church and den he would baptize de slaves in de same +pool.</p> + +<p>"My grandma wuz a powerful Christian 'oman, and she did love to sing +and shout. Dat's how come Marse Billie had her locked up in de loom room +when de Yankee mens come to our plantation. Grandma would git to +shoutin' so loud she would make so much fuss nobody in de church could +hear de preacher and she would wander off from de gallery and go +downstairs and try to go down de white folkses aisles to git to de altar +whar de preacher wuz, and dey wuz always lockin' her up for 'sturbin' +worship, but dey never could break her from dat shoutin' and wanderin' +'round de meetin' house, atter she got old.</p> + +<p>"Dem Yankee sojers rode up in de Big 'Ouse yard and 'gun to ax me +questions 'bout whar Marse Billy wuz, and whar everything on de place +wuz kept, but I wuz too skeered to say nuthin'. Everything wuz quiet and +still as could be, 'cept for Grandma a-singin' and a-shoutin' up in de +loom house all by herself. One of dem Yankees tried the door and he axed +me how come it wuz locked. I told him it wuz 'cause grandma had 'sturbed +de Baptist meetin' wid her shoutin'. Dem mens grabbed de axe from de +woodpile and busted de door down. Dey went in and got grandma. Dey axed +her 'bout how come she wuz locked up, and she told 'em de same thing I +had told 'em. Dey axed her if she wuz hongry, and she said she wuz. Den +dey took dat axe and busted down de smokehouse door and told her she wuz +free now and to help herself to anything she wanted, 'cause everything +on de plantation wuz to b'long to de slaves dat had worked dar. Dey took +grandma to de kitchen and told ma to give her some of de white folkses +dinner. Ma said 'But de white folkses ain't et yet.' 'Go right on,' de +Yankees said, 'and give it to her, de best in de pot, and if dey's +anything left when she gets through, maybe us will let de white folkses +have some of it.'</p> + +<p>"Dem brash mens strutted on through de kitchen into de house and dey +didn't see nobody else down stairs. Upstairs dey didn't even have de +manners to knock at Mist'ess' door. Dey just walked right on in whar my +sister, Lucy, wuz combin' Mist'ess' long pretty hair. They told Lucy she +wuz free now and not to do no more work for Mist'ess. Den all of 'em +grabbed dey big old rough hands into Mist'ess' hair, and dey made her +walk down stairs and out in de yard, and all de time dey wuz a-pullin' +and jerkin' at her long hair, tryin' to make her point out to 'em whar +Marse Billie had done had his horses and cattle hid out. Us chilluns wuz +a-cryin' and takin' on 'cause us loved Mist'ess and us didn't want +nobody to bother her. Dey made out like dey wuz goin' to kill her if she +didn't tell 'em what dey wanted to know, but atter a while dey let her +alone.</p> + +<p>"Atter dey had told all de slaves dey could find on de place not to do +no more work, and to go help deyselves to anything dey wanted in de +smokehouse, and 'bout de Big 'Ouse and plantation, dey rode on off, and +us never seed no more of 'em. Atter de Yankees wuz done gone off Grandma +'gun to fuss: 'How, dem sojers wuz tellin' us what ain't so, 'cause +ain't nobody got no right to take what belongs to Marster and Mist'ess.' +And Ma jined in: 'Sho' it ain't no truf in what dem Yankees wuz +a-sayin', and us went right on living' just like us always done 'til +Marse Billie called us together and told us de war wuz over and us wuz +free to go whar us wanted to go, and us could charge wages for our work.</p> + +<p>"When freedom comed my pa wanted us to move off right away over to Mr. +Smithies' place so our family could be together, but us stayed on wid +Marse Billie de rest of dat year. Den pa and ma moved to Lexin'ton, whar +pa digged walls and ditches and made right good pay. Ma took all four of +us chillun and run a good farm. Us got along fine.</p> + +<p>"'Fore de War, all work stopped on de plantation for de funeral of a +slave. Grandma didn't think chillun ought to see funerals, so de first +one I ever seed, wuz when ma died two years atter de War wuz done over. +A jackleg colored preacher talked, but he didn't have sense 'nuff to +preach a sho' 'nuff sermon.</p> + +<p>"Us heared a heap 'bout dem Ku Kluxers, but none of my folks never even +seed any of 'em. Dey wuz s'posed to have done lots of beatin' of colored +folks, but nobody knowed who dem Ku Kluxers wuz.</p> + +<p>"A long time atter de War I got married to Traverse Colquitt. De weddin' +took place at my sister's house, and us sho' did have a big weddin' and +a fine dinner afterwards. Den next day my husband carried me to whar he +wuz born, and his ma give us another big fine dinner. She had a table +longer dan this room, and it wuz just loaded with all sorts of good +things. De white folkses dat my husband had used to work for had sent +some of de good vittals.</p> + +<p>"Most of my life atter de War wuz spent in Lexin'ton. Does you know +anythin' 'bout Mr. John Bacon dat used to run de only hotel dar den? +Well, I worked for him for many a year. His daughter, Miss Mamie Bacon, +lives here in Athens and she is old and feeble like me. She lives 'bout +four blocks from here, and whenever I'se able to walk dat far, I goes to +see her to talk 'bout old times, and to git her to 'vise me how to git +along. I sho'ly does love Miss Mamie.</p> + +<p>"My husband died 'bout a year ago. Us had eight boys and two girls, but +dey ain't but four of our chillun livin' now. Least, I thinks dey is all +four alive. Two of my sons lives somewhar in Alabama, and one son stays +in New York. My only livin' daughter lives wid me here, pore thing! +Since she seed one of her chillun killed last year, she ain't had no +mind a t'all. I'se tryin' to look atter her and de other child. Her +husband done been dead a long time. My neighbors helps me, by bringin' +me a little to eat, when dey knows I ain't got nothin' in de house to +cook. De storekeeper lets me have a little credit, but I owe her so much +now dat I'se 'shamed to ax her to let me have anythin' else. De white +folkses on Prince Avenue is right good to let me have dey clo'es to +wash, and de young gals in the neighborhood helps me to do de washin'. I +sho' is hopin' de old age pension will soon git started comin' to me. +Some dat I know, has been gittin' dey old age pensions two or three +months. I done signed up for mine twict, so maybe it will 'gin to come +'fore I is done plum wore out."</p> + +<p>When her visitor was ready to leave, Martha hobbled to the door and bade +her an affectionate farewell. "Goodbye, Lady! I prays for you every +night. May de good Lord bless you."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DavisMinnie"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE<br> +<br> +MINNIE DAVIS, Age 78<br> +237 Billups St.<br> +Athens, Ga.<br> +<br> +Written By:<br> +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited By:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +WPA Residencies 6 & 7<br> +<br> +August 29, 1938</h3> +<br> + +<p>The bareness of Minnie Davis' yard was relieved by a single rosebush, +and her small house might best be described as a "tumble-down shack." An +unsteady wooden box served as a step to the fragment of porch before the +front door.</p> + +<p>"Good mornin', Mam," was the greeting of a Negro man who hastened to +answer the visitor's knock at the door. "Yes Mam, Miss Minnie's at +home." He turned, tapped on the door of one of the four rooms adjoining +the hall, and called: "Miss Minnie, a white lady wants to see you." +Minnie hobbled to the door and invited the visitor to her bedroom, where +a suite of handsome walnut furniture reflected the period when marble +tops were standard parts of dressers and washstands. A low chair, an old +table, and a rusty heater completed the furnishings of the room.</p> + +<p>Age and ill health have not dealt kindly with Minnie, and her short-cut, +kinky hair is almost white, but her eyes and face retain a remarkably +youthful appearance. She is a small thin woman of gingercake color and, +despite the sweltering heat, she wore a pink flannel nightgown, faded +and dingy, and a pair of high top black shoes, so badly run over that +she hobbled along on the sides of them. Minnie is well educated, and +she taught school for so long that her speech is remarkably free of +dialect.</p> + +<p>When the nature of the visit was explained, Minnie said: "A white woman +has been here several times before, but I was sick and didn't understand +clearly what she wanted me to tell her." She then explained that she did +not care to talk for publication at all. She said she was hungry and had +nothing at all in the house to eat. Her nephew, Ed, an ex-postman lived +with her, she explained, and he would go for food if there was any +money. She might feel like talking a little if she had a little +something to eat. The interviewer provided the cash and Ed soon returned +with a pint of milk and some cinnamon rolls. After her repast, Minnie +began to talk, giving the impression that every word was carefully +weighed before it was uttered.</p> + +<p>"I was born in Greene County near Penfield, Georgia," she said. "Aggie +Crawford was my mother and she was married to Jim Young. My only sister +was Mariah, and my three brothers were Ned, John, and Jim. Ned was a +mulatto. I know who his father was, but of course you won't ask me that. +I wouldn't want to expose my own mother or the man who was Ned's father. +I was quite a small child during the war period, and I can tell you very +little of that time, except the things my mother told me when I grew old +enough to remember. My mother belonged to the Crawford family in Greene +County, but when I knew anything we were living in Athens and were the +slaves of Marster John Crawford.</p> + +<p>"As children we played around the yard; those of us who were old enough +had odd jobs to do. The unceiled house that my father and mother shared +with three other families was weatherboarded and had a chimney made of +sticks and dirt. There was a bed in each corner of the room and from one +to three children slept in the bed with their parents: the rest of the +children slept on the floor. The tall old home-made wooden beds had very +much the appearance of beds used now, except that cords were used +instead of the metal springs that came into use later. Our osnaburg +mattress ticks were filled with straw. I'm quite sure there were no +pillows. There was also a two-story house on the lot for slaves." She +was asked what she called her father and mother during slavery time, and +her reply was: "I have always said father and mother because I liked it +better, and the Bible teaches us to say that.</p> + +<p>"Grandmother Dilsey and grandfather Levi Crawford lived in Lexington. I +saw my grandmother one time, but I don't know what she did at the white +folks' house. Grandfather was a carpenter.</p> + +<p>"I never got any money in slavery time. If the slaves ever got any, it +was when the Yankees came through here. At that time the white people +gave their money to the slaves for safekeeping, and after the Yankees +went on it was returned to the white owners.</p> + +<p>"My mother was the cook and looked after the house. Oh, yes indeed, we +had good food to eat. Bread, milk, meat, collard greens, turnips, and +potatoes. I would say we had just everything that was grown in the +garden and on the plantations to eat at that time. The cooking was done +in the kitchen in the yard. The fireplace was as wide as the end of this +room, and a long iron bar extended from one end to the other. The great +cooking pots were suspended over the coals from this bar by means of pot +hooks. Heavy iron skillets with thick lids were much used for baking, +and they had ovens of various sizes. I have seen my mother bake +beautiful biscuits and cakes in those old skillets, and they were ideal +for roasting meats. Mother's batter cakes would just melt in your mouth +and she could bake and fry the most delicious fish. There was no certain +thing that I liked to eat more than anything else in those days. I was +young and had a keen appetite for all good things. Miss Fannie and Miss +Susan often made candy and it was so good I could have eaten all they +made, had they given it to me. My father hired his time out; he made and +sold gingercakes on the railroad.</p> + +<p>"In the summertime we wore homespun dresses made with a full skirt +gathered onto a tight-fitting waist. In the wintertime the dresses were +made of checked woolen material called linsey cloth. For underwear, we +wore balmoral petticoats and osnaburg drawers. We went barefooted most +of the time. I remember one particular time when the ground was frozen +and I went about without any shoes, but it didn't bother me. Barefooted +children seldom had bad colds in winter. We wore just anything on +Sunday, but we had to look nice and clean.</p> + +<p>"Marster John Crawford, son of the distinguished William H. Crawford, +was my owner. Indeed, he was good to us. I'll tell you after awhile +about the time he wouldn't let the town marshal whip my mother. They +told me his wife was a fine woman and that she was as good to her slaves +as she could be. She died very young in life and Marse John's sisters, +Miss Fannie and Miss Susan, kept house for him after that. Marse John's +three children were Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa, and Marse Allie. Miss Rosa +married Marse Tom Golden, and Miss Fannie married a Gerdine; I've +forgotten his first name.</p> + +<p>"Marse John may have had an overseer on one of his plantations, but I +don't remember. I do know he didn't have a carriage driver for he didn't +have a carriage. I don't believe I can describe the peculiar shape of +his fine eight-room house. It was on Dougherty Street, right back of +Scudder's School. The Crawfords were considered very uppity people and +their slaves were uppish too. Marse John didn't have many slaves and +they had to get up and get going early every morning. Marse John was +postmaster of Athens and had to be in his office by eight o'clock every +morning so he ordered that his breakfast be served regularly at +seven-thirty.</p> + +<p>"No Mam, our white folks didn't teach their slaves to read and write +because it was against the law. However, they did read the Bible to us, +and the slaves that were smart enough, were asked to repeat the verses +they had learned from hearing Miss Fannie, Miss Sue, and Marse John +read. The Crawford children were caught teaching my mother to read and +write, but they were made to stop. Mother was quick to learn and she +never gave up. She would steal the newspapers and read up about the war, +and she kept the other slaves posted as to how the war was progressing. +She knew when the war was over, almost as soon as Marse John did.</p> + +<p>"I don't recall any certain reason why the slaves were punished; they +needed it, I'm sure of that. Some folks need to be punished now. Miss +Sue, as we called her, whipped the slaves for misbehavior. I remember +one time there was quite a commotion. The town marshal came to our house +to whip my mother. It had been told that she had been writing letters, +asking people to buy whiskey from her, but Marse John wouldn't let the +marshal touch her. There was a jail, but I don't recall that any of +Marse John's slaves were ever put in there. I was told that his slaves +were, as a rule, well behaved and that they gave him no trouble.</p> + +<p>"Yes Mam, we went to church, that is, those of us who cared to go did. +There wasn't any separate church for colored people in Athens, that I +can remember. We went to church and Sunday School at the First +Presbyterian Church, where the slaves were allowed to sit in the +gallery. I recall that Dr. Hoyt used to pray that the Lord would drive +the Yankees back. He said that 'Niggers were born to be slaves.' My +mother said that all the time he was praying out loud like that, she was +praying to herself: 'Oh, Lord, please send the Yankees on and let them +set us free.' I wasn't enough of a singer to have a favorite song, and I +was too happy playing with the Crawford children to be interested in +going to baptizings and funerals.</p> + +<p>"I did go to my father's funeral. When he was taken sick Dr. Holt +attended his case, and it was not long before he told Marse John that +Father would never get well. When he died Mother hollered and screamed +something terrible. Miss Sue told her not to cry because, 'the Lord +knows best.' 'Yes, Miss Sue,' answered Mother, 'but you have never loved +a man to lose.' With that, they both cried. When anyone died in those +days, the people sat up all night and didn't go to bed until the +funeral was over. Now, no real sympathy is shown.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe any of Marse John's slaves ever went to the war. He was +good to them and everyone of them loved him. I heard of patterollers +chasing slaves and whipping them if they were caught away from home +without a pass, and sometimes they locked them up. However, nothing of +the kind ever happened to any of Marse John's slaves. He was a highly +respected citizen and everyone in Athens knew better than to touch his +Negroes.</p> + +<p>"After the work for the day was finished at the big house, the slaves +went to their quarters to weave cloth and sew, but when ten o'clock came +and the bell sounded, everything had to be quiet. Slaves on our place +worked Saturday afternoons the same as any other day. On Saturday nights +the young folks and a few of the older folks danced. Some of them got +passes from Marse John so they could visit around. They popped corn, +pulled candy, or just sat around and talked. Those of us who desired +went to Sunday School and church on Sundays; others stayed at home and +did their washing and ironing, and there was always plenty of that to be +done.</p> + +<p>"Christmas was a grand time at Marse John's. We had everything good to +eat under the sun at that time and, as my mother was the cook, I was +sure of getting my share of the good things. Miss Fannie and Miss Sue +played Santa Claus to slave children. I was sorry when Mary got too +smart and peeped to see what it was all about, for after that they just +came to our house and handed us the things that would have come as Santa +Claus.</p> + +<p>"New Year's Day was no different from other days, except that Marse John +gave the grown folks whiskey to drink that day like he did on Christmas +morning. They couldn't risk giving slaves much whiskey because it made +them mean, and then they would fight the white folks. They had to be +mighty careful about things like that in order to keep down uprisings.</p> + +<p>"My mother went to cornshuckings, cotton pickings, and quiltings. They +must have had wonderful times, to hear her tell it. She said that after +the corn was shucked, cotton picked, or quilts quilted, they always gave +them plenty of good things to eat and drink and let them aloose to enjoy +themselves for the balance of the night. Those things took place at +harvest time, and everyone looked forward to having a good time at that +season. Mother said that Marse John was particular with his slaves, and +wouldn't let them go just anywhere to these things.</p> + +<p>"About the only game I can remember playing as a child was a doll game. +The Crawford children would use me for the doll, and then when my turn +came to play mamma and claim one of them for my doll, Miss Fanny or Miss +Sue would appear and then I would have to be a doll for them. I didn't +mind, for I dearly loved them all.</p> + +<p>"Now about Raw Head and Bloody Bones; I am going to tell you, Miss, my +Marster's people were cultured and refined, and they wouldn't allow such +things told to their own children or to their slaves' children. They +didn't want anything said or done to frighten any little children, and +if a nurse or anyone else was caught doing such a thing, that person was +punished for it. With the heritage of training like that I could hardly +be expected to believe in such things.</p> + +<p>"Marse John was grand to sick slaves. He always sent for Dr. Moore, who +would make his examination and write out his prescription. When he left +his parting word was usually 'Give him a sound thrashing and he will get +better.' Of course he didn't mean that; it was his little joke. Dr. +Holt, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. Jones Long were sometimes called in for +consultation on particularly serious cases. We didn't like Dr. Moore and +usually begged for one of the other doctors. I don't think my white +folks used teas made of herbs, leaves or roots; they may have, but I +don't remember it. However, I do know that we wore little sacks of +asafetida around our necks to keep off diseases, and the white folks +wore it too.</p> + +<p>"On the day we learned of the surrender, the Negroes rallied around the +liberty flag pole that they set up near where the city hall is now. All +day long they cut up and there was a song they sung that day that went +something like this:</p> + +<pre> +'We rally around the flag pole of liberty, +The Union forever, Hurrah! Boys Hurrah!' +</pre> + +<p>"Next morning when the Negroes got up the white folks had cut that pole +down. We were mortally afraid of the Yankees when they appeared here a +short time after the surrender. We were afraid of the Ku Klux Klan +riders too. The Negroes did act so bad; there were lots of killings +going on for a long time after the war was supposed to be over.</p> + +<p>"Mother was glad and sorry too that she was free. Marse John had been so +good to all his slaves that none of them really wanted to leave him. We +stayed on a while, then mother left and rented a room. She worked hard +and bought a house as soon as she could; others did the same. There were +very few slaves that had any money at all to begin on.</p> + +<p>"Immediately following the surrender northern people opened Knox +Institute. One of my teachers was Miss Dora Brooks, a white woman from +the North. The principal was a white man, he was Mr. Sortur. After I +graduated from Knox Institute, I went to the Atlanta University four +years, then came back to Athens and taught school here forty years. I +taught whatever grade they assigned me to each year, never any certain +grade from year to year. First and last, I've taught from first grade +through high school. I would be teaching now if it were not for my bad +health. I receive a teacher's pension, but have never applied for an old +age pension.</p> + +<p>"My husband was Samuel B. Davis, publisher of the <i>Athens Clipper</i>. +I published this newspaper myself for a short while after his death, +then sold it. We didn't have a big wedding, just a very simple one at my +mother's house. I was married in a nice white dress, but it was nothing +fancy. Our two children were born dead. Once I had a nice home, +beautifully furnished. All I have left of it is this old house and my +good bedroom suite. The rest of my possessions have gotten away from me +during my continued illness.</p> + +<p>"I often think of Abraham Lincoln; he did a good deed for my race. Jeff +Davis was a good man and, no doubt, he thought he was doing the right +thing. Booker T. Washington was a man of brilliant mind, but he was +radically wrong in many of his views pertaining to education of the +black race. He lectured here once, but I didn't bother to hear him +speak.</p> + +<p>"Yes Mam, indeed I had rather be free. Oh! religion is glorious. If God +has set you free from the bonds and penalties of sin, I think you ought +to live up to your Lord's commands. I dearly love to go to church and +hear the preacher tell of God. It gives me strength to live until He is +ready for me to go.</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss, I hope I have told you what you wanted to know, but I must +admit the things that took place way back there are rather vague in my +mind. I'm an old woman and my mind is not as clear as it once was. Next +week, if I am strong enough to make the trip, I am going to spend the +day with Mary Colbert, and go over the old times you and I have +discussed. She remembers them better than I do, because she is older."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DavisMose"></a> +<h3>Whitley<br> +[HW: Unedited<br> +Atlanta]<br> +E. Driskell<br> +<br> +EX-SLAVE MOSE DAVIS<br> +[APR 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>In one of Atlanta's many alleys lives Mose Davis, an ex-slave who was +born on a very large plantation 12 miles from Perry, Georgia. His master +was Colonel Davis, a very rich old man, who owned a large number of +slaves in addition to his vast property holdings. Mose Davis says that +all the buildings on this plantation were whitewashed, the lime having +been secured from a corner of the plantation known as "the lime sink". +Colonel Davis had a large family and so he had to have a large house to +accommodate these members. The mansion, as it was called, was a great +big three-storied affair surrounded by a thick growth of cedar trees.</p> + +<p>Mose's parents, Jennie and January Davis, had always been the property +of the Davis family, naturally he and his two brothers and two sisters +never knew any other master than "The Old Colonel".</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis says that the first thing he remembers of his parents is being +whipped by his mother who had tied him to the bed to prevent his running +away. His first recollection of his father is seeing him take a drink of +whiskey from a five gallon jug. When asked if this was'nt against the +plantation rules "Uncle Mose" replied: "The Colonel was one of the +biggest devils you ever seen—he's the one that started my daddy to +drinking. Sometimes he used to come to our house to git a drink +hisself".</p> + +<p>Mose's Father was the family coachman. "All that he had to do was to +drive the master and his family and to take care of the two big grey +horses that he drove. Compared to my mother and the other slaves he had +an easy time," said Uncle Mose, shaking his head and smiling: "My daddy +was so crazy about the white folks and the horses he drove until I +believe he thought more of them than he did of me. One day while I was +in the stable with him one of the horses tried to kick me and when I +started to hit him Daddy cussed me and threatned to beat me."</p> + +<p>His mother, brothers, and sisters, were all field hands, but there was +never any work required of Mose, who was play-mate and companion to +Manning, the youngest of Colonel Davis' five sons. These two spent most +of the time fishing and hunting. Manning had a pony and buggy and +whenever he went to town he always took Mose along.</p> + +<p>Field hands were roused, every morning by the overseer who rang the +large bell near the slave quarters. Women [TR: and] young children were +permitted to remain at home until 9 o'clock to prepare breakfast. At 9 +o'clock these women had to start to the fields where they worked along +with the others until sundown. The one break in the day's work was the +noon dinner hour. Field hands planted and tended cotton, corn, and the +other produce grown on the plantation until harvest time when everybody +picked cotton. Slaves usually worked harder during the picking season +than at any other time. After harvest, the only remaining work was +cleaning out fence corners, splitting rails building fences and numerous +other minor tasks. In hot weather, the only work was shelling corn. +There was no Sunday work other than caring for the stock.</p> + +<p>On this plantation there were quite a few skilled slaves mostly +blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, plasterers, and a cobbler. One of +Mose's brothers was a carpenter.</p> + +<p>All slaves too old for field work remained at home where some took care +of the young children, while others worked in the loom houses helping +make the cloth and the clothing used on the plantation. Since no work +was required at night, this time was utilized by doing personal work +such as the washing and the repairing of clothing, etc.</p> + +<p>On the Fourth of July or at Christmas Colonel Davis always had a +festival for all his slaves. Barbecue was served and there was much +singing and dancing. These frolics were made merrier by the presence of +guests from other plantations. Music was furnished by some of the slaves +who also furnished music at the mansion whenever the Col. or some of the +members of his family had a party. There was also a celebration after +the crops had been gathered.</p> + +<p>Although there was only one distribution of clothing per year nobody +suffered from the lack of clothes because this one lot had enough to +last a year if properly cared for. The children wore one piece garments, +a cross between a dress and a slightly lengthened shirt, made of +homespun or crocus material [TR note: "crocus" is a coarse, loosely +woven material like burlap]. No shoes were given them until winter and +then they got the cast-offs of the grown ups. The men all wore pants +made of material known as "ausenberg". The shirts and under wear were +made of another cotton material. Dresses for the women were of striped +homespun. All shoes were made on the premises of the heaviest leather, +clumsely fashioned and Uncle Mose says that slaves like his father who +worked in the mansion, were given much better clothing. His father +received of "The Colonel" and his grown sons many discarded clothes. One +of the greatest thrills of Mose's boyhood was receiving first pair of +"ausenberg" pants. As his mother had already taught him to knit (by +using four needles at one time) all that he had to do was to go to his +hiding place and get the socks that he had made.</p> + +<p>None of the clothing worn by the slaves on this particular plantation +was bought. Everything was made by the slaves, even to the dye that was +used.</p> + +<p>Asked if there was sufficient food for all slaves, Uncle Mose said "I +never heard any complaints." At the end of each week every family was +given some fat meat, black molasses, meal and flour in quantity varying +with the size of the family. At certain intervals during the week, they +were given vegetables. Here too, as in everything else, Mose's father +was more fortunate than the others, since he took all his meals at the +mansion where he ate the same food served to the master and his family. +The only difference between Week-day and Sunday diet was that biscuits +were served on Sundays. The children were given only one biscuit each. +In addition to the other bread was considered a delicacy. All food stuff +was grown on the plantation.</p> + +<p>The slave quarters were located a short distance below the mansion. The +cabins one-roomed weatherboard structures were arranged so as to form a +semi-circle. There was a wide tree-lined road leading from the master's +home to these cabins.</p> + +<p>Furnishings of each cabin consisted of one or two benches, a bed, and a +few cooking utensils. These were very crude, especially the beds. Some +of them had four posts while the ends of others were nailed to the +walls. All lumber used in their construction was very heavy and rough. +Bed springs were unheard of—wooden slats being used for this purpose. +The mattresses were large ausenberg bags stuffed to capacity with hay, +straw, or leaves. Uncle Mose told about one of the slaves, named Ike, +whose entire family slept on bare pine straw. His children were among +the fattest on the plantation and when Colonel Davis tried to make him +put this straw in a bag he refused claiming that the pine needles kept +his children healthy.</p> + +<p>The floors and chimneys on the Davis Plantation were made of wood and +brick instead of dirt and mud as was the case on many of the other +surrounding plantations. One window (with shutters instead of window +panes) served the purpose of ventilation and light. At night pine knots +or candles gave light. The little cooking that the slaves did at home +was all done at the open fireplace.</p> + +<p>Near the living quarters was a house known as the "chillun house." All +children too young for field work stayed at this house in the care of +the older slave women. There was no hospital building on the premises. +The sick had to remain in their individual cabins where they too were +cared for by slaves too old for field work.</p> + +<p>Only one family lived in a cabin. Mose's mother and father each had a +separate cabin. He did not explain the reason for this but said that he +was made to live in his father's cabin. Whenever he could, (usually when +his father was away with the Colonel for a day or two) he stayed in his +mothers cabin. "The only difference between the houses we lived in +during slavery and those that some of us live in now who said is that we +had more room there than we have now." He says that even the community +cook house was larger than some of the living quarters of today. All +cabins were white washed the same as the other buildings on the +plantation, and the occupants were required to keep the interiors and +the surrounding clean at all times. The overseer's cabin was located a +short distance away from the slave cabins, so that it would be easier +for him to keep check on his charges.</p> + +<p>There was little if any sickness but Colonel Davis employed a doctor who +visited the plantation each week. On other occasions the overseer +administered such remedies as castor oil, turpentine, etc., and the +slaves had remedies of their own. For stomach ache they used a tea made +of Jimson weeds. Another medicine was heart leaf tea. Manual and +religious training were the only types allowed on the plantation. Trades +like carpentry, blacksmithing, etc. were learned from the white +mechanics sometimes employed by Colonel Davis. All slaves were required +to attend church and a special building was known as "Davis' Chapel." A +Negro preacher officiated and no white people were present. Uncle Mose +doesn't know what was preached as he and Manning always slipped into +town on Sundays to see the girls. Uncle Mose says he and Manning were +together so much that occasionally they even slept in the same +bed,—sometimes in Manning's house and sometimes at his own house.</p> + +<p>A pool for baptism was filled with well water. The colored pastor +performed all baptisms and marriages.</p> + +<p>Book learning was prohibited in any form. Sometimes Mose tried to +persuade Manning to teach him to read and write but Manning always +refused. Mose's cousin who was taught to read and write forged Colonel +Davis' name to a check and drew the money from the bank before the hand +writing was discovered. For this act he was given a sound whipping and +assigned to hard labor by the master, "And", said Uncle Mose, "he didn't +even have the pleasure of spending one penny". When asked if his cousin +was arrested and placed in jail he replied that the jails were not for +the slaves, as their punishment was usually left to their individual +masters. When his cousin was whipped this was an exception to "The +Colonel's rule"; he was entirely against any form of whipping. His usual +method of punishment was to cut off individual privileges for a limited +amount of time (in proportion to the nature of the offense), along with +an assignment of extra heavy work.</p> + +<p>The fame of the "Paddle-Rollers" was widespread among the slaves, but +none of Colonel Davis' servants attempted to run away or leave the +plantation often without the required pass (if they did they were never +caught).</p> + +<p>There was very little talk on the plantation about the actual beginning +of the Civil War. Slaves was very guarded in their talk as they feared +the master's wrath. Uncle Mose thought little or nothing about the War +and had even less to say.</p> + +<p>When the Yankee soldiers came to the plantation they drove wagons to the +smoke house and took all the meat away. "The funny part about it was +that "The Colonel" had taken shelter in this particular house when he +saw the Yankees coming," said Uncle Mose. "He didn't have time to hide +any of his other belongings." When the soldiers had left, The Colonel +looked around and said to Manning and Mose: "Just like I get that, I +guess I can get some more."</p> + +<p>Uncle Mose says that when freedom was declared, his father came rushing +to their cabin waving his arms like a windmill, shouting: "Boy we is +free—you can go and git yourself a job 'cause I ain't goin' to hitch up +no more horses". Some of the slaves remained on the plantation where +they worked for wages until their deaths. His father was one of them and +after his death, his mother moved to another plantation to live with +another son. Meanwhile Mose started traveling from place to place as +soon as he was told that he was free to go as he pleased. He paid one +visit to the plantation where he learned of his father's death. He then +asked Manning, who was operating the plantation, for the ox that had +belonged to his father and when Manning refused to part with this +animal, he made a secret visit back, that night, and took the animal +away. He has not been back since.</p> + +<p>At this time Mr. Davis stretched himself, saying: "Well, I guess that's +about as straight as I can get it—Wish that I could tell you some more +but I can't." Smiling broadly, he bade the interviewer a pleasant +good-bye.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DerricoteIke"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +IKE DERRICOTTE, Age 78<br> +554 Hancock Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Miss Grace McCune<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +<br> +August 19, 1938</h3> + +<p>[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.]</p> +<br> + +<p>Ike Derricotte's brown-painted, frame bungalow, well back from the +street, faces a wide grassy yard where tall pecan trees provide summer +shade and winter nuts.</p> + +<p>A mulatto woman answered the knock at the front door. Her long, +straight, white hair was neatly arranged in a low-pinned coil at the +back of her head. Her print frock and white shoes were immaculate. "Yes +Mam, Ike is at home," was the answer to the inquiry for her husband. +"Jus' have a seat on de porch here 'cause it's so much cooler dan inside +de house, and I'll call Ike. He's jus' piddlin' 'round de back yard dis +mornin'."</p> + +<p>Almost at once a tall, well-built man of gingercake color appeared. He +wore an old black cap, blue work shirt, blue wool trousers, and black +shoes. "Howdy-do, Miss! Did you want to see me?" was his greeting. His +eyes sparkled when he learned that we wished to record the story of his +life. "Yes Mam, I'll be glad to tell you what I kin," he promised, "and +Miss, I'll jus' bet I kin tell you somepin dat very few folks kin say +'bout dem old days. I was born right here on dis same street, and I'm +still livin' on it, but dis house and lot ain't my birthplace. When I +was born, dis section was mostly in woods. Jus' look at it now; houses +has been built up and down both sides of what was den jus' de big road. +Times has changed in lots of ways since dem days.</p> + +<p>"My mother's name was Myra, and she was a laundry 'oman owned by Mr. +Stevens Thomas. Mr. Thomas was one of de biggest merchants in Athens dem +days. He owned de square between Thomas Street and Wall Street, and it +s'tended back to Clayton Street.</p> + +<p>"William Derricotte was my father, and he belonged to Col. Robert +Thomas. My father spent most of his time beautifyin' de yards 'round de +big house, and in dese days and times he would be called a landscape +gardener. Dey jus' called 'em yard boys den. Atter Pa and Ma was +married, Marster Stevens sold Ma to Marster Robert, so dat dey could be +together. Mr. Robert Thomas' place was right up dis same old street, +whar de Y.W.C.A. is now, and right dar is whar I was born. Dat was in +1860, a long time ago; and lots of things has happened since den. Lots +of people has moved away and lots more has died out, 'til dere ain't +many of de folks left here dat lived in Athens den. De Thomases, +Dorseys, and Phinizys was some of de oldest families here.</p> + +<p>"I was too little to know much about de war but, little as I was, dere's +one thing dat's still as fresh in my memory now as den, and dat's how +people watched and waited to hear dat old Georgia train come in. Not +many folks was able to take de papers den, and de news in 'em was from +one to two weeks old when dey got here. All de men dat was able to fight +was off at de front and de folks at home was anxious for news. De way +dat old train brought 'em de news was lak dis: if de southern troops was +in de front, den dat old whistle jus' blowed continuously, but if it was +bad news, den it was jus' one short, sharp blast. In dat way, from de +time it got in hearin', evvybody could tell by de whistle if de news was +good or bad and, believe me, evvybody sho' did listen to dat train.</p> + +<p>"Times was hard durin' de war but from what I've heared de folks dat was +old folks den say, dey warn't near as bad here as in lots of other +places. Yes Mam! Sho' I kin 'member dem Yankees comin' here, but dat was +atter de war was done over. Dey camped right here on Hancock Avenue. +Whar dey camped was mostly woods den, and deir camp reached nearly all +de way to whar Milledge Avenue is now. Us chillun was scared to death of +dem soldiers and stayed out of deir way all us could. My Marster, Mr. +Stevens Thomas, hid all of his family's silver and other valuables dat +could be put out of sight, for dem Yankees jus' went 'round takin' +whatever dey wanted. Dey stole all kinds of food out of de homes, went +into de smokehouses and got hams, and cotched up de chickens. Dey jus' +reached out and tuk what dey wanted and laughed about it lak dey hadn't +been stealin'.</p> + +<p>"Dem Yankees brought de smallpox here wid 'em and give it to all de +Athens folks, and dat was somepin awful. Folks jus' died out wid it so +bad. Dey built a hospital what dey called de 'pest house' out whar de +stockade is now. It was rough and small but I reckon it helped some. It +warn't near large enough for all de folks dat was sick wid smallpox at +one time, and so dey finally got to whar dey used it jus' for de colored +folks, 'cause it seemed dat smallpox went harder wid dem dan wid de +white folks.</p> + +<p>"When de war ended us didn't leave Mr. Stevens Thomas. Ma kept on +cookin' and wukin' 'round de house, and Pa wuked lots for other folks, +larned to do brick-work, build walls, and things lak dat. Atter he got +to be a brickmason he allus had plenty to do.</p> + +<p>"Marbles was de favorite game of de chillun dem days but us never got to +play much lak chillun does dese days, 'cause times was so hard right +atter de war dat as soon as chillun got big enough dey had to go to wuk. +Some of our very best times was at de old swimmin' hole. Us dammed up +dat little crick right back of whar de Seaboard Depot is now and it made +a fine pool to swim in. It was cool for it was shady off down dar in de +woods, and us spent many a hour dar on days as hot as dis one is. When +dey missed us at home, dat was de fust place dey thought of when dey +come to hunt us. I had some mighty good times in dat crick and I +couldn't begin to count de duckin's I got dar and de whuppin's my Ma and +Pa give me for stayin' so long.</p> + +<p>"De biggest time in all de year was de Commencement Day; evvybody got +busy and fixed up for dat. My Marster allus had lots of company at +commencement times, and us had de most good things to eat. Out in town +dey was 'pared for it too. Tables was all along de sidewalks whar you +could buy any kind of 'freshments you wanted. Course dere warn't as many +kinds of 'freshments den as dey has now, but dere was allus plenty of de +strong sort. One time durin' commencement week, Ma give me a whole +quarter to spend. I was de happiest and de richest boy in dis town; jus' +had more money to spend dan anybody, and I walked de streets from one +table to another tryin' to see whar I was gwine to spend all dat money." +Here, Ike laughed heartily. "Miss," he said, "you jus' never could guess +what I spent all dat money for. I bought a whole quarter's worth of +ginger-cakes and lit out for de swimmin' hole. Us chillun had a fine +time down at de swimmin' hole dat day. De Cobbs and Lumpkins owned all +dat land in dar 'round our swimmin' hole den. Dey owned from de Catholic +Church straight through to College Avenue.</p> + +<p>"I mighty well 'member de fust wuk I ever done. I was still jus' a +little fellow when Miss Belle Brumby told Ma she wanted me for a butler +boy and dat she would pay me $2.50 a month. I jus' jumped up and down +and begged her to let me wuk for Miss Belle. Why, I jus' knowed I would +git rich right away, 'cause $2.50 was a mighty lot of money." Ike +laughed as he said: "How many boys would wuk for dat pay for a week now, +let alone a whole month? Ma did let me wuk for Miss Belle and I was +happy, but I know my Mist'ess had a time wid me 'cause, when I got on +dat white coat dey let me wear to wait on de table, I knowed more dan +evvybody else put together and dere couldn't nobody tell me how to keep +de flies off de table. Miss Belle is one fine 'oman, dey jua' don't come +no finer and no better.</p> + +<p>"When I was fourteen my Pa hired me out to be a shoemaker. De shop whar +I was 'prenticed was down on Broad Street, jus' about whar de Bernstein +Furniture Store is now. Dat old buildin' was tore down long years ago +and evvything 'long dar is changed now. De Athens Hardware Store is de +only Broad Street business of dem days dat has stood in de same place +and endured through all dese years.</p> + +<p>"When I went to wuk for Mr. Joe Barry in his shoe shop on Jackson +Street, right in back of whar Mr. Lee Morris' store is now, I felt lak I +had got to be a real sho' 'nough important shoemaker. I wuked for him +'bout 12 or 14 years. He was a good man to wuk for and he was de only +shoemaker I ever knowed to git rich at his trade; he really did make +money in dat shop. I've been a shoemaker ever since 1874, but I never +have been able to git far ahead. In spite of all our trouble for 85 +years atter de war, it seems to me dat times was much better den dan dey +is now. Course, folks didn't make as much den as dey does now. +Carpenters, bricklayers, shoemakers, in fact 'most any kind of laborers +who got from $1.00 to $1.50 a day thought dey had fine wages den. Boys +was paid from $2.50 to $5.00 a month. Cooks got $5.00 to $6.00 a month, +and of course, dey got deir meals whar dey wuked. Sometimes odds and +ends of old clothes was give to 'em, and dey got along very well, even +if most of 'em did have families and big families at dat. Folks could +live on less den 'cause things was cheaper. You could git meal for 50¢ a +bushel; side meat was 5¢ to 6¢ a pound; and you could git a 25-pound +sack of flour for 50¢. Wood was 50¢ a load. House rent was so cheap dat +you didn't have to pay over $3.00 a month for a 2 or 3 room house, and +lots of times you got it cheaper. Most evvybody wore clothes made out +of homespun cloth and jeans, and dey didn't know nothin' 'bout +ready-made, store-bought clothes. Dem clothes what dey made at home +didn't cost very much. Livin' was cheap, but folks lived mighty well in +dem days.</p> + +<p>"Us has been married more dan 50 years and dey has all been happy years. +Us has had our troubles and hard luck, but dey come to evvybody. De Lord +has been mighty good to us, 'specially in lettin' us be together so +long. It was what you might call a case of love at fust sight wid us. I +was visitin' down at Camak, Georgia at Christmastime. She lived at +Sparta, and was spendin' Christmas at Camak too, but I didn't see her +'til I was 'bout to leave for Athens. I jus' thought I never could go +'way atter I fust seed her, but I did, and I didn't git to see her again +for 12 long months. Us writ to one another all dat year and got married +at Christmastime, one year from de time us fust met.</p> + +<p>"Us has still got dat old pen I used when I writ and axed her to marry +me; I'd lak to show it to you. 'Scuse me please whilst I goes in de +house to git it." Soon Ike returned. "Ain't it a sight?" he proudly +exclaimed as he displayed the relic. "I made it up myself in December +1886 and it got her consent to marry me, so I'se kept it ever since. My +wife and me wouldn't part wid it for nothin'." The wooden pen staff is +very smooth as though from long usage except at the tip end, where it +appears to have been gnawed. It looks very much as though Ike may have +chewed on it as he wrote that all important letter. The iron pen point, +much too large to fit the standard grooves of the ordinary pen staff, +was placed on the staff and tightly wrapped. After 52 years of service +the pen point and its staff are still in good condition. Ike has the +Prince Albert coat that he wore on his wedding day and he insists that +it looks and fits as well now as it did on the occasion of his marriage. +"I'm keepin' de coat and pen for our chillun," he declared.</p> + +<p>Before resuming the conversation, Ike went back in the house to put the +treasured pen away. In a few moments he returned. "God has been good to +us," he said, "for He let us have all nine of our chillun 'til dey was +grown up. Us wuked mighty hard to raise 'em and give all of 'em a good +education. Dat was somepin us couldn't have when us was growin' up and +I'm thankful to be able to say dat us was able to send 'em all to +college. Four of our chillun has gone on ahead to de next world, and de +five dat's left is scattered from place to place; none of 'em is wid us +now, but dey don't forgit us. Dey writes to us and visits us often and +us goes to see dem. One son is goin' mighty well as a lawyer in +Washin'ton, D.C., and our baby lives in New York City. It's been 'bout 3 +years now since my daughter Juliette died atter a automobile wreck near +Dalton, Georgia. Did you know 'bout Juliette? She give her life to wuk +for de Y.W.C.A., and she went all over de world tryin' to make things +better for de young women of our race. Somebody writ a memorial book +'bout her. I wish dere was a copy of dat book here for you to see, but +it was borrowed from us and it ain't been returned.</p> + +<p>"Did you know I had jus' come back from Washin'ton, whar I visited dat +lawyer son of mine? He sends for me nearly evvy summer and I enjoy +visitin' dar, but I wouldn't lak to live up dar 'cause dem folks ain't +lak our own southern people. I must say dey is mighty nice and good to +me when I goes dar though. Once when I was dar somebody told me dat if I +wanted to have a good time I mustn't let nobody know I was a Georgian +'cause dey said dat de northerners don't lak our State. De rest of de +time I was dar on dat visit I tuk partic'lar pleasure in tellin' +evvybody how proud I was of my State and my home.</p> + +<p>"Dat reminds me of Miss Sally Hodgson. She was in de North, and one +evenin' she was tryin' to tell de folks up dar dat de southern people +warn't as bad as some of de Yankees had said dey was, and dat de white +folks down South didn't mistreat de colored folks. Miss Sally said dat +de very next mornin' de papers up dar was full of news 'bout de lynchin' +of 8 Negroes in one night at Watkinsville. If you had knowed Miss Sally, +you would know how funny dat was," Ike laughed. "She said atter dat dere +warn't no way she could convince dem folks up dar dat Georgia was a good +place to live in.</p> + +<p>"Us had some good friends in de North and sometimes dey comes down here +to see us. One of my wife's friends, a 'oman wid a lot of education has +jus' gone back to Philadelphia atter a visit here in our home. Us +travels a good deal and us has found dat de world ain't so large but dat +us is allus runnin' up against somebody dat us knows wherever us goes.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes when you is in a strange place it's mighty handy to find +somebody you have knowed a long time ago. I 'member one time when I was +visitin' in Washin'ton and wanted to git a glimpse of de President. I +didn't say nothin' to nobody 'bout what was on my mind, but atter my son +went to his wuk in de mornin' I slipped off to de capitol widout tellin' +nobody whar I was gwine. I found a waitin' room outside de President's +office and I made up my mind I would set dar 'til de President had to go +out for dinner or to go home for supper. I never thought about he might +have a side door he could come and go from widout usin' de door to de +waitin' room. Atter I had set dar in dat waitin' room de best part of +two days watchin' for de President, somebody said: 'Howdy, Uncle Ike! +What is you doin' here in de President's waitin' room?' I looked up and +dar stood Albon Holsey. He had growed up in Athens. He was de boy dey +'signed to wait on President Taft when he was at Miss Maggie Welch's +home for a day and night in January 'fore he was inaugurated. I bet +Albon is still got dat $5.00 Mr. Taft give him de mornin' he left +Athens, but he don't need to spend it now 'cause folks say he got rich +off of his chain of stores for colored folks, and anyhow he's got a fine +job dese days. Well, I s'plained to Albon dat I was jus' waitin' to git +a peep at de President whenever he happened to pass through dat room. +Albon he smiled sort of wise-like. He tuk out one of his cyards and +writ sompin on it, and axed a lady to take it right in to de President. +She warn't gone 2 minutes 'fore she come back and said: 'De President +will see Mr. Holsey and his friend now.' I was wuss skeered dan I has +ever been at any other time in my life. Us walked in and I was 'fraid de +President could hear my knees knockin' together, and my heart was +beatin' so fast and loud it seemed to me lak it was 'bout to bust. De +President spoke to us and when he found out dat I was from Athens, he +axed me lots of questions. He said dat he was interested in Athens. Soon +Albon said us must be goin' and when us got out of dar I was right weak, +but I was might proud and happy to think de President had tuk time to +talk pleasant lak wid a pore old Negro shoemaker.</p> + +<p>"Another time in Washin'ton a friend of my son's tuk me to a club one +night whar some of de richest of our race is members. Dat night I met a +man who had went to school wid de Mr. Teddy Roosevelt dat was President +atter Mr. McKinley; den I met another Negro dat had been a classmate of +President Hoover and one dat went to school wid President Franklin D. +Roosevelt. It's right strange how dey all heads for Washin'ton, D.C. to +stay.</p> + +<p>"Athens has allus been a real quiet town, and dere never was no real +serious trouble here 'tween de races, not even when Matt Davis and Pink +Morton was Postmasters here. People was allus predictin' trouble 'bout +dat, but de folks here was too level-headed for dat. Dey knowed dey +could straighten out deir own troubles widout havin' to fly off de +handle in a race riot, and so dey 'tended to deir own business' and de +races got along all right through it all.</p> + +<p>"Atter all, Athens is a good place to live in. Here us has de best +neighbors in de world; dey's allus ready to look atter one another in +times of sickness and trouble. Wid de kind of good, Christian folks dat +lives here, Athens is bound to go ahead."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DillardBenny"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +BENNY DILLARD, Age 80<br> +Cor. Broad and Derby Streets<br> +Athens, Ga.<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Grace McCune [HW: (white)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by: Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Ga.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Benny's rocky little yard is gay with flowers and a flourishing rose +vine shades the small porch at the front of his ramshackle two-room +cabin. The old Negro was busily engaged at washing his clothes. He is of +medium size, darker than gingerbread in color, and his clothing on this +day consisted of a faded blue shirt, pants adorned with many patches, +and brogans. A frayed sun hat covered the gray hair that is "gittin' +mighty thin on de top of my haid."</p> + +<p>Benny was singing as he worked and his quavering old voice kept tune and +rhythm to a remarkable degree as he carefully and distinctly pronounced:</p> + +<pre> +"Jesus will fix it for you, + Just let Him have His way + He knows just how to do, + Jesus will fix it for you." +</pre> + +<p>Almost in the same breath he began another song:</p> + +<pre> +"All my sisters gone, + Mammy and Daddy too + Whar would I be if it warn't + For my Lord and Marster." +</pre> + +<p>About this time he looked up and saw his visitor. Off came the old sun +hat as he said: "'Scuse me, Missy, I didn't know nobody was listenin' to +dem old songs. I loves to sing 'em when I gits lonesome and blue. But +won't you come up on my porch and have a cheer in de shade? Dere's a +good breeze on dat little porch." Having placed a chair for the visitor +and made himself comfortable on a crude bench, Benny began his story:</p> + +<p>"Missy, de good Lord gives and he takes away, and us old darkies is +a-passin' out of dis world. Dat was why I was a-singin'. One of my +bestest friends done passed on to Glory dis very mornin'. I knows I'se +goin' to miss old Randal Clayton 'cause both of us warn't no good but +for to set and talk 'bout old times." Tears rolled down his face as he +told of his friend, and the visitor, fearful that he was too much +overcome by grief to be able to give a good story, suggested that +another engagement be made to record his reminiscences, but he objected. +"Lawsy, Missy!" he protested. "Please don't go now, for dem old times is +on my mind today and I would so love to talk 'bout 'em now, if you don't +mind. If I talks too much, jus' tell me, 'cause I'se mighty apt to do +dat when onct I gits started.</p> + +<p>"My Mammy and Daddy, dey warn't from dis part of de country. My Mammy +said dat not long atter she got to America from a trip on de water dat +took nigh 6 months to make, dey brung her from Virginny and sold her +down here in Georgy when she was jus' 'bout 16 years old. De onliest +name she had when she got to Georgy was Nancy. I don't know whar my +Daddy come from. Him and Mammy was both sold to Marse Isaac Dillard and +he tuk 'em to live on his place in Elbert County, close to de place dey +calls Goose Pond. Dey lived at home on dat big old plantation. By dat, I +means dat Marse Isaac growed evvything needed to feed and clothe his +folks 'cept de little sugar, coffee, and salt dey used. I don't 'member +so much 'bout times 'fore de big war 'cause I warn't but 6 years old +when us was made free. Tellin' de slaves dey was free didn't make much +diff'unce on our place, for most of 'em stayed right on dar and wukked +wid Old Marster jus' lak dey allus done. Dat plantation was jus' lak a +little town, it was so big and it had evvything us wanted and needed.</p> + +<p>"Slaves lived in log cabins what had red mud daubed in de cracks 'twixt +de logs. De roofs was made out of boards what had so many cracks 'twixt +'em, atter a few rains made 'em swink (shrink), dat us could lay in bed +and see de stars through dem big holes. Even if us did have leaky +houses, folkses didn't git sick half as much as dey does now. Our +homemade beds was made out of rough planks nailed to high poles; +leastways de poles was high for de headpieces, and a little lower for de +footpieces. For most of dem beds, planks was nailed to de wall for one +long side and dere was two laigs to make it stand straight on de other +long side. Dey never seed no metal springs dem days but jus' wove cords +back and forth, up and down and across, to lay de mattress on. I never +seed no sto'-bought bed 'til atter I was married. Bedticks was made out +of homespun cloth stuffed wid wheatstraw, and sometimes dey slept on rye +or oatstraw. Pillows was stuffed wid hay what had a little cotton mixed +in it sometimes. Atter a long day of wuk in de fields, nobody bothered +'bout what was inside dem pillows. Dey slept mighty good lak dey was. +Dey fixed planks to slide across de inside of de holes dey cut out for +windows. De doors swung on pegs what tuk de place of de iron hinges dey +uses dese days. Dem old stack chimblies was made out of sticks and red +mud.</p> + +<p>"De fireplaces was a heap bigger dan dey has now, for all de cookin' was +done in open fireplaces den. 'Taters and cornpone was roasted in de +ashes and most of de other victuals was biled in de big old pots what +swung on cranes over de coals. Dey had long-handled fryin' pans and +heavy iron skillets wid big, thick, tight-fittin' lids, and ovens of all +sizes to bake in. All of dem things was used right dar in de fireplace. +Dere never was no better tastin' somepin t'eat dan dat cooked in dem old +cook-things in open fireplaces.</p> + +<p>"Chillun never had no wuk to do. Dey jus' et and frolicked around +gittin' into evvything dey could find. Dey never got no lickin's 'less +dey was mighty bad, 'cause our Marster said he warn't gwine to 'low no +beatin' on his Niggers 'cept what he done his own self, and dat was +pow'ful little. In hot weather chillun played on de crick and de best +game of all was to play lak it was big meetin' time. White chillun loved +to play dar too wid de little slave chillun. Us would have make-believe +preachin' and baptizin' and de way us would sing was a sight. One of dem +songs us chillun loved de best went lak dis:</p> + +<pre> +'Why does you thirst + By de livin' stream? + And den pine away + And den go to die. + +'Why does you search + For all dese earthly things? + When you all can + Drink at de livin' spring, + And den can live.' +</pre> + +<p>"When us started playin' lak us was baptizin' 'em, us th'owed all us +could ketch right in de crick, clothes and all, and ducked 'em. Whilst +us was doin' dat, us was singin':</p> + +<pre> +'Git on board, git on board + For de land of many mansions, + Same old train dat carried + My Mammy to de Promised Land.' +</pre> + +<p>"One day our Marster hid in de trees and watched us 'cause Mist'ess had +done been fussin' down 'bout chillun all comin' in soaked to de hide. He +waited 'til he seed all de preachin' and baptizin', den he hollered for +us to stop and he tuk de ones what was doin' all de baptizin' and made +'em pray and sing, den he ducked 'em good in de water and made us all go +up to de house to show Mist'ess how come so many of dem pore chillun had +done been gittin' wet so much. Us got a tannin' den dat Marster 'lowed +would help us to git sho' 'nough 'ligion.</p> + +<p>"De wooden bowls what slave chillun et out of was made out of sweetgum +trees. Us et wid mussel shells 'stid of spoons. Dem mussel shells was +all right. Us could use 'em to git up plenty of bread and milk, or +cornpone soaked wid peas and pot likker. Dey never let chillun have no +meat 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Us had biscuit once a +week, dat was Sunday breakfast, and dem biscuits was cakebread to us. De +fust bought meat us chillun ever seed was a slab of side-meat Daddy got +from de sto' atter us had done left de plantation, and us was skeered to +eat it 'cause it warn't lak what us had been used to.</p> + +<p>"Chillun jus' wore one piece of clothes in summertime and dey all went +bar'foots. De gals' summer gyarment was a plain, sleeveless apron dress, +and de boys wore skimpy little shirts and nothin' else. Dey mixed +cow-hair wid de cotton when dey wove de cloth to make our winter clothes +out of, and I'm a-tellin' you Missy, dat cow-hair cloth sho' could +scratch, but it was good and warm and Marster seed to it dat us had all +de clothes us needed. De 'omans made all de cloth used on de place; dey +cyarded, spun, and den wove it. Mammy was de weaver; dat was all she +done, jus' wove cloth. Dey dyed it wid red mud and ink balls, and sich +lak.</p> + +<p>"Marster never lakked to git up real early hisself in slavery time, so +he had one man what got de Niggers up out of bed so early dat dey had +done et breakfast and was in de field when daylight come. Atter de war +was over and evvybody was free, all de Niggers used to jus' piddle and +play 'round evvy mornin' whilst dey was waitin' for Marster to come. Dem +and de mules would be jus' a-standin' still and when de word was passed +dat Marster had done got up all of 'em would start off wid a rush, jus' +a-hollerin': 'Whoa, dar! Gee haw!' jus' lak dey had done been wukkin' +hard all mornin'. One day Marster cotch 'em at it, and he didn't say a +word 'til time come to pay off, and he tuk out for all de time dey had +lost.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes slaves run away and hid out in caves. Dey would pile up rocks +and sticks and pine limbs to hide de caves, and sometimes dey would stay +hid out for weeks, and de other Niggers would slip 'em somepin t'eat at +night. Dere warn't many what run off on our place, 'cause our Marster +was so good to all of 'em dat dere warn't nothin' to run from.</p> + +<p>"Marster made all his wuk tools at home. Plow-sheers was made out of +wood trimmed to de right shape and fastened to a iron point. When dey +was plowin' in de young cotton, dey nailed a board on one side of de +plow to rake de dirt back up 'round de cotton plants.</p> + +<p>"Marster's gin was turned by a mule. Dat big old gin wheel had wooden +cogs what made de gin wuk when de old mule went 'round and 'round +hitched to dat wheel. Dat old cotton press was a sight. Fust dey cut +down a big old tree and trimmed off de limbs and made grooves in it for +planks to fit in. It was stood up wid a big weight on top of it, over de +cotton what was to be pressed. It was wukked by a wheel what was turned +by a mule, jus' lak de one what turned de gin. A old mule pulled de pole +what turned de syrup mill too. Missy, dem old mules done deir part 'long +side de Niggers dem days, and Marster seed dat his mules had good keer +too. When dem mules had done turned de mill 'til de juice was squez out +of de sugarcane stalks, dey strained dat juice and biled it down 'til it +was jus' de finest tastin' syrup you ever did see. Marster's mill whar +he ground his wheat and corn was down on de crick, so de water could +turn de big old wheel.</p> + +<p>"Dem old cornshuckin's was sho' 'nough big times, 'cause us raised so +much corn dat it tuk several days to shuck it all. Us had to have two +generals. Dey chose sides and den dey got up on top of de biggest piles +of corn and kept de slaves a-singin' fast so dey would wuk fast. De fust +crowd what finished got de prize. Dere ain't much I can 'member of words +to dem old cornshuckin' songs. One general would start off singin': +'Shuck up dis corn, shuck up dis corn, 'cause us is gwine home,' and de +other general would be a-shoutin': 'Make dem shucks fly, make dem +shucks fly, us is gwine to go home.' Over and over dey kept on singin' +dem lines. Come nighttime Marster would have big bonfires built up and +set out torches for 'em to see how to wuk, and evvy time he passed +'round dat jug of corn likker shucks would fly some faster. When all de +corn was done shucked and de big supper had been et, dere was wrastlin' +matches and dancin' and all sorts of frolickin'.</p> + +<p>"'Til dey could git a colored preacher, slaves had to go to church wid +deir white folks. Missy, I 'members yit, de fust preacher I ever heared. +He was a white man, Preacher Gibson dey called him, and his sermons made +you mind what you was 'bout 'cause he preached straight from de Bible. +Dat day when I fust heared him his text was: 'If you gits lost in sin, +den you is lost from God's word, and will have to be borned again.' +Dat's de trufe, Missy, it sho' is. Young folks dese days is headed plumb +straight for 'struction, 'cause dey won't listen to de Gospel. If dey +don't change from de way dey is goin' now de old debbil is gwine to +ketch 'em sho. All of us had better mind what us is 'bout, for 'ligion +most times now is by our own minds and thoughts, and somebody else is +apt to follow de 'ligion he sees in us. De Bible says to teach young +folks de way dey should go, and dey won't depart from deir raisin'. You +sho' can't raise 'em right by jus' teachin' 'em dese days; it evermore +do take plenty of layin' on of dat rod. I would jus' lak to see how dese +young folks would lak it if dey had to ride for miles and miles in a +oxcart, or else walk it, to git to 'tend church. Dere wouldn't be many +of de ones I knows 'round here would git dar. Us used to have four +steers hitched to our old cart, and it was slow-goin', but us got dar.</p> + +<p>"Atter us got our own churches us still had to have white preachers for +a long time and den us was 'lowed to have colored preachers. When +somebody wanted to jine our church us 'zamined 'em, and if us didn't +think dey was done ready to be tuk in de church, dey was told to wait +and pray 'til dey had done seed de light. Anybody can jine up wid de +church now, Missy, and it ain't right de way dey lets 'em come in widout +'zaminin' 'em. De good Lord sho' don't lak dat way of handlin' His +church business. One of dem cand-i-dates was a mean Nigger and our +preacher and deacons wouldn't let him in our church. Den he went over to +another church and told 'em dat he had talked wid de Lord 'bout how us +wouldn't let him jine up wid us, and he 'lowed dat de Lord said to him: +'Dat's all right. I done been tryin' to jine up in dat church for 15 +years myself, and can't git in, so you go on and jine another church.' +Dat other church let dat bad Nigger in and it warn't long 'fore dey had +to turn him out, 'cause he warn't fittin' to be in no church.</p> + +<p>"Our preacher used to give us parables. One of 'em was lak dis: 'I'se +seed good cotton growin' in de grass.' He 'splained it dat dere was some +good in de wust sinners. Another of his parables was: 'If you can't keep +up wid de man at de foot, how is you gwine to keep up wid de higher-up +folks?' Dat meant if you can't sarve God here below, how is you gwine to +git along wid him if you gits to Heben? Our preacher told us to sarve +both our marsters. De fust Marster was God, he said, and de other one +was our white marster.</p> + +<p>"I ain't never been inside no courtroom and don't never 'spect to be +dar, 'cause, missy, I don't mind nobody's business but my own, and dat's +all I can do.</p> + +<p>"No Mam, I don't never git much sick. I had a bad old haid cold last +winter, but I stopped dat wid coal oil and by breathin' in smoke from +scorched leather. Light'ood splinter tea is helpful when I has a chist +cold. Salts ain't de best thing for old folks to be doctored wid. I +takes common cookin' soda sweetened wid a little sugar. Dem is old-time +doses from way back in de old days, and I still use 'em all.</p> + +<p>"Durin' of de war time, soda and salt was both hard to git. Dey biled +down de dirt from under old smokehouses to git salt, and soda was made +out of burnt corncobs. You would be s'prised to see what good cookin' +could be done wid dat old corncob soda.</p> + +<p>"Us wukked for Mr. Green Hubbard de fust year us left de old plantation, +but he wouldn't pay us so us left him and rented some land to farm. Den +I went to wuk for Mr. Stephens and stayed wid him 25 years. He was one +of de owners of de Georgy Railroad and I used to drive for him when he +went to 'Gusty (Augusta) to dem board meetin's. He had one of dem +old-time gins what run by mule power, and us sho' did gin a heap of +cotton. Lots of times he had us to haul it all de way to 'Gusty on dem +wagons. Mr. Stephens' place was at Crawford, Georgy.</p> + +<p>"Me and my gal runned away to git married. If you please, Mam, come +inside and look at her pitcher. Ain't she a fine lookin' gal? Well, she +was jus' as good as she looks. I keeps her pitcher hangin' right over my +bed so as I can look at her all de time." The small room was tidy and +clean. In one corner a narrow, single bed, neatly made, stood beneath +the picture of Benny's wife, Mary. The picture showed a young woman +dressed in white in the style of the period when tight waists and +enormous puffed sleeves were in vogue. An old washstand supporting a +huge mirror, a small table, evidently used as a dining table, two +chairs, a small cupboard filled with dishes, and a small, wood-burning +stove completed the furnishings of the room. Back on the porch again, +Benny resumed the story of his marriage.</p> + +<p>"Her daddy wouldn't 'gree for us to git married 'cause he wanted her to +stay on and wuk for him. She warn't but seventeen. My boss-man let us +use his hoss and buggy and, Missy, dat fast hoss is what saved de day +for us. When I got to whar I was to meet her, I seed her runnin' down de +road wid her daddy atter her fast as he could go on foot. I snatched her +up in dat buggy and it seemed lak dat hoss knowed us was in a hurry +'cause he sho' did run. Squire Jimmie Green married us and when us got +back to my boss-man's house her daddy had done got dar and was a-raisin' +cane. Boss Stephens, he come out and told her daddy to git on 'way from +dar and let us 'lone, 'cause us was done married and dere warn't nothin' +could be done 'bout it. Us had a hard time gittin' started housekeepin', +'cause my daddy couldn't holp us none. Our bed was one of dem home-made +ones nailed to de side of de house. Us lived together 43 years 'fore de +Lord tuk her home to Heben 15 years ago. Dem 43 years was all of 'em +happy years. Since she's been gone I'se mighty lonesome, but it won't be +long now 'til I see her, for I'se ready to go whenever de Good Lord +calls me."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="EasonGeorge"></a> +<h3>[HW: Atlanta<br> +Dist. 5<br> +Driskell]<br> +<br> +THE EXPERIENCE OF GEORGE EASON IN SLAVERY TIME<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mr. George Eason was born in Forsyth, Ga., on the plantation of Mr. Jack +Ormond. In addition to himself there were six other children, one of +whom was his twin brother. He and his brother were the oldest members of +this group of children. His mother, who was the master's cook, had +always belonged to the Ormond family while his father belonged to +another family, having been sold while he (George) was still a baby.</p> + +<p>It so happened that Mr. Ormond was a wealthy planter and in addition to +the plantation that he owned in the country, he also maintained a large +mansion in the town.</p> + +<p>The first few years of his life were spent in town where he helped his +mother in the kitchen by attending to the fire, getting water, etc. He +was also required to look after the master's horse. Unlike most other +slave owners who allowed their house servants to sleep in the mansion, +Mr. Ormond had several cabins built a short distance in the rear of his +house to accommodate those who were employed in the house. This house +group consisted of the cook, seamstress, maid, butler, and the wash +woman. Mr. Eason and those persons who held the above positions always +had good food because they got practically the same thing that was +served to the master and his family. They all had good clothing—the +women's dresses being made of calico, and the butler's suits of good +grade cloth, the particular kind of which Mr. Eason knows nothing about. +He himself wore a one-piece garment made of crocus.</p> + +<p>Mr. Eason was about 7 or 8 years of age when he was first sent to work +in the field. It was then that his troubles began. He says that he was +made to get up each morning at sun-up and that after going to the field +he had to toil there all day until the sun went down. He and his fellow +slaves had to work in all types of weather, good as well as bad. +Although the master or the overseer were not as cruel as some he had +heard of they tolerated no looseness of work and in case a person was +suspected of loafing the whip was applied freely. Although he was never +whipped, he has heard the whip being applied to his mother any number +of times. It hurt him, he says, because he had to stand back unable to +render any assistance whatever. (This happened before he was sent to the +plantation.) When his mother got these whippings she always ran off +afterwards and hid in the woods which were nearby. At night she would +slip to the cabin to get food and while there would caution him and the +other children not to tell the master that they had seen her. The +master's wife who was very mean was always the cause of her receiving +these lashings.</p> + +<p>Some nights after he and the other slaves had left the field they were +required to do extra work such as ginning cotton and shelling peas and +corn, etc. The young women were required to work that in some respects +was as hard as that the men did, while the older women usually did +lighter work. When the time came to pick the cotton all hands were +converted into pickers. Night was the only time that they had to do +their washing and to cultivate the small gardens they were allowed to +have.</p> + +<p>During the months when there was little field work to do they were kept +busy repairing fences, etc. on the farm. Every day was considered a +working day except Sunday, Thanksgiving and Christmas. They were not +allowed to celebrate on these days as were the slaves on other nearby +plantations.</p> + +<p>Clothing on the Ormond plantation was usually insufficient to satisfy +the needs of the slave. Each year one issue was given each slave. For +the men this issue consisted of 1 pair of brogan shoes, several homespun +shirts, a few pairs of knitted socks, and two or three pairs of pants. +The brogans were made of such hard leather until the wearers' feet were +usually blistered before the shoes were "broken in." The women, in +addition to a pair of shoes and some cotton stockings were given several +homespun dresses. On one occasion Mr. Eason says that he wore his shoes +out before time for an issue of clothing. It was so cold until the skin +on his feet cracked, causing the blood to flow. In spite of this his +master would give him no more shoes. All clothing was made on the +plantation except the shoes.</p> + +<p>Those women who were too old for field work did the sewing in addition +to other duties to be described later.</p> + +<p>Indigo was cultivated for dyeing purposes and in some instances a dye +was made by boiling walnut leaves and walnut hulls in water. In addition +to her duties as cook, Mr. Eason's mother had to also weave part of the +cloth. He told of how he had to sit up at night and help her and how she +would "crack" him on the head for being too slow at times.</p> + +<p>The amount of food given each slave was also inadequate as a general +rule. At the end of each week they all went to a certain spot on the +plantation where each was given 1 peck of meal, 1 gal. of syrup, and 3 +pounds of meat. They often suffered from that particular stomach ailment +commonly known as hunger. At such times raids were made on the +smokehouse. This was considered as stealing by the master and the +overseer but to them it was merely taking that which they had worked +for. At other times they increased their food by hunting and fishing. +Possums and coons were the usual game from such a hunting expedition. +All meals usually consisted of grits, bacon, syrup, corn bread and +vegetables. On Sundays and holidays the meals varied to the extent that +they were allowed to have biscuits which they called "cake bread." The +slaves made coffee by parching corn meal, okra seed or Irish potatoes. +When sufficiently parched any one of the above named would make a vile +type of coffee. Syrup was used for all sweetening purposes. The produce +from the gardens which the master allowed them could only be used for +home consumption and under no circumstances could any of it be sold.</p> + +<p>The cabins that the slaves occupied were located on one section of the +plantation known as the "quarters." These dwellings were crude +one-roomed structures usually made from logs. In order to keep the +weather out mud was used to close the openings between the logs. In most +instances the furnishing of a cabin was complete after a bed, a bench +(both of which were made by the slave) and a few cooking utensils had +been placed in it. As there were no stoves for slave use all cooking was +done at the fireplace, which, like the chimney, was made of mud and +stones. One or two openings served the purpose of windows, and shutters +were used instead of glass. The mattresses on which they slept were made +from hay, grass or straw. When a light was needed a tallow candle or a +pine knot was lighted.</p> + +<p>Absolute cleanliness was required at all times and the floors, if they +were made of wood, had to be swept and scrubbed often. In addition to +the private dwellings there was one large house where all children not +old enough to go to the field were kept. One or two of the older women +took charge of them, seeing that they had a sufficient amount of corn +bread, vegetables and milk each day. All were fed from a trough like +little pigs.</p> + +<p>These old women were also responsible for the care of the sick. When +asked if a doctor was employed, Mr. Eason replied that one had to be +mighty sick to have the services of a doctor. The usual treatment for +sick slaves was castor oil, which was given in large doses, salts and a +type of pill known as "hippocat." (ipecac)</p> + +<p>Although they were not permitted any formal type of learning religious +worship it was not denied them. Each Sunday Mr. Ormond required that all +his slaves attend church. All went to the white church where they sat in +back and listened to the sermon of a white preacher. Mr. Eason says that +the slaves believed in all kinds of and every conceivable type of signs. +Their superstitions usually had to do with methods of conjure.</p> + +<p>A preacher was never used to perform a wedding ceremony on the Ormond +plantation. After the man told the master about the woman of his choice +and she had been called and had agreed to the plan, all that was +necessary was for the couple to join hands and jump over a broom which +had been placed on the ground.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ormond permitted few if any celebrations or frolics to take place +on his farm. When he did grant this privilege his slaves were permitted +to invite their friends who of course had to get a "pass" from their +respective masters. They, too, were required to secure a pass from Mr. +Ormond if they wanted to visit off the premises. If caught by the +"Paddle Rollers" (Patrollers) without this pass they were soundly +whipped and then taken to their master.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the Civil War all the slaves talked among themselves +concerning the possible outcome of the war. However, they never let the +master or the overseer hear them because it meant a whipping.</p> + +<p>When Sherman and his army marched through they burned all the gin houses +on the Ormond plantation and took all the available live stock. Mr. +Ormond took a few prized possessions and a few slaves (one of whom was +Mr. Eason) and fled to Augusta, Ga.</p> + +<p>After freedom was declared he was still held in bondage and hired out by +the day. Once he ran away but was found and brought back. In 1867 the +remaining members of the Ormond family moved to Atlanta, bringing him +along with them. After most of them had died he was finally permitted to +go or stay as he pleased.</p> + +<p>Immediately after freedom had been declared he had the good fortune to +find his father. However, he never got a chance to spend any time with +him as the Ormonds refused to release him.</p> + +<p>Says Mr. Eason: "Slavery had a good point in that we slaves always felt +that somebody was going to take care of us." He says that he has heard +some wish for the good old days but as for himself he prefers things to +remain as they are at present.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ElderCallie"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br> +<br> +CALLIE ELDER, Age 78<br> +640 W. Hancock Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +[JUN 6 1938]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Callie lives with her daughter, Cornelia, in a 6-room house near the +crest of a hill. Their abode is a short distance from the street and is +reached by steep stone steps. In response to the call for Callie, a tall +mulatto woman appeared. Her crudely fashioned blue dress was of a coarse +cotton fabric and her dingy head rag had long lost its original color. +Straight black hair, streaked with gray, and high cheek bones gave the +impression that in her ancestry of mixed races, Indian characteristics +predominate. Her constant use of snuff causes frequent expectoration and +her favorite pastime seems to be the endeavor to attain an incredible +degree of accuracy in landing each mouthful of the amber fluid at the +greatest possible distance. As she was about to begin conversation, a +little yellow boy about five years old ran into the room and Callie +said: "'Scuse me please, I can't talk 'til I gits my grandboy off so he +won't be late to school at Little Knox. Set down in dat dar cheer and +I'll be right back."</p> + +<p>Soon Callie returned and it was evident that her curiosity was aroused. +When the interviewer explained the purpose of the visit, she exclaimed: +"Lordy! Miss, what is de government gwine do next? For de God's truth, I +never knowed I would have to tell nobody what happened back in dem days, +so its jus' done slipped out of my mind.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, I warn't even born in Clarke County. I was born in Floyd +County, up nigh Rome, Georgia, on Marse Billy Neal's plantation. Ann +and Washin'ton Neal was my Mammy and Pappy. No Ma'am, no preacher never +married 'em. Marse Billy Neal, he owned bofe of 'em and atter my Pappy +axed him could he marry Mammy, Marse Billy made 'em go up to de hall of +de big house and jump backwards over a broom.</p> + +<p>"Dere was six of us chillun: me and Frances, Beulah, Thomas, Felix, and +Scott. Dere was mighty little wuk done by chillun in slav'ry days. I +jus' played 'round and kicked up my heels wid de rest of de chillun. +When us played our hidin' game, us sung somepin' lak dis:</p> + +<pre> +'Mollie, Mollie Bright + Three score and ten, + Can I git dere by candlelight? + Yes, if your laigs is long enough!' +</pre> + +<p>"Sometimes us played what us called de 'Crow' game. Us spread our +fingers out, side by side and counted 'em out wid a rhyme. De one de +last word of de rhyme fell on had to be de crow. I didn't love to be +counted out and made de crow, but it was a heap of fun to count de +others out. Since I been knee high to a grasshopper, I ain't never done +nothin' but wuk 'round white folks' houses.</p> + +<p>"Our log cabins what us lived in was daubed inside and out wid mud to +keep out bad weather. Our beds was held together by cords what was +twisted evvy which way. You had to be mighty careful tightenin' dem +cords or de beds was liable to fall down. Us slept on wheat straw +mattresses and had plenty of good warm quilts for kiver.</p> + +<p>"Grown folks was fed cornbread and meat wid plenty of vegetables in de +week days and on Sunday mornin's dey give 'em wheat bread, what was +somethin' slaves didn't see no more 'til de next Sunday mornin'. 'Bout +four o'clock on summer atternoons, dey sot a big old wooden bowl full of +cornbread crumbs out in de yard and poured in buttermilk or potliquor +'til de crumbs was kivered. Den dey let de chillun gather 'round it and +eat 'til de bowl was empty. In winter chillun was fed inside de house.</p> + +<p>"'Possums, Oh, mussy me! My grandpa hunted 'possums at night and fetched +in two and three at a time. Don't say nothin' 'bout dem rabbits for dere +warn't no end to 'em. Rabbits stewed, rabbits fried, and rabbits dried, +smoked, and cured lak hog meat! I et so many rabbits when I was young I +can't stand to look at 'em now but I could eat 'possums and gnaw de +bones all day long. Marse Billy let grandpa go fishin' and he was all +time bringin' back a passel of minnows and other fishes. Us rubbed 'em +down wid lard and salt and pepper, den rolled 'em in cornmeal and baked +'em. I never seed no fried meat 'til I was a big strappin' gal. Dere was +one big gyarden whar dey raised 'nough vegetables for all de white folks +and slaves too. All de bilin' was done in pots swung on cranes over +coals in de fireplace.</p> + +<p>"Our clothes was made new for us in de fall out of cloth wove in looms +right dar on de plantation. Top clothes was dyed wid hick'ry bark. De +full skirts was gathered to tight fittin' waisties. Underskirts was made +de same way. De dresses had done wore thin 'nough for hot weather by de +time winter was gone so us wore dem same clothes straight on through de +summer, only us left off de underskirts den. Slave chillun didn't never +wear no shoes. Our foots cracked open 'til dey looked lak goose foots. +Us wore de same on Sunday as evvy day, 'cept dat our clothes was clean, +and stiff wid meal starch when us got into 'em on Sunday mornin's.</p> + +<p>"Marse Billie Neal was our owner and Miss Peggy was his old 'oman. Dey +was jus' as good to us as dey could be. Deir two chillun was Marse Tom +and Marse Mid. De car'iage driver never had much to do but drive Marse +Billy and Miss Peggy 'round and, course he had to see dat de hosses and +car'iage was kept clean and shiny. I don't 'member if he tuk de chillun +'round. Chillun didn't stand de show dey does now.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no Ma'am, I sho' can't tell nothin' t'all 'bout how big dat old +plantation was, but it was one whoppin' big place. Dere was too many +slaves on dat plantation for me to count. De overseer got 'em up by 4:00 +o'clock and de mens had to be in de fields by sunrise. De 'omans went +out 'bout 8:00 o'clock. Dey stopped wuk at sundown and by de time dey et +and done de chores for de day it was 10:00 o'clock 'fore dey hit de bed. +De cabins was built in a circle and de overseer went de rounds evvy +night to see if de slaves was in bed.</p> + +<p>"Yes Ma'am, dey whupped de Niggers. My Pappy and grandpa was de wust +ones 'bout gittin' licked. Evvy time Pappy runned away Marse Billy +sicked dem hounds on his heels and dey was sho' to ketch him and fetch +him back. Dey had to keep knives from Pappy or when dem dogs cotch him +he would jus' cut 'em up so dey would die. When dey got him back to de +house, dey would buckle him down over a barrel and larrup him wid a +plaited whup. 'Omans warn't whupped much. My grandpa York was so bad +'bout runnin' 'way Marse Billy made him wear long old horns. One Sunday +Marse Billy went by our church to see if all his Niggers was dar what +was sposen to be dar. And dere grandpa was a-sottin' wid dem horns on +his head. Marse Billy told him he could take de horns off his head +whilst he was in de meetin' house. At dat grandpa dropped dem horns, and +lit a rag to de woods and it tuk de dogs days to find him.</p> + +<p>"If one slave kilt another, Marse Billy made de overseer tie dat dead +Nigger to de one what kilt him, and de killer had to drag de corpse +'round 'til he died too. De murderers never lived long a-draggin' dem +daid ones 'round. Dat jus' pyorely skeered 'em to death. Dere was a +guard house on de farm, whar de wust Niggers was kept, and while dey was +in dat guard house, dey warn't fed but once a day. It warn't nothin' +unusual for Marse Billy to sell slaves, but he never sold his best +Niggers. De ones he sold was allus dem he couldn't git no wuk out of.</p> + +<p>"Not a Nigger could read or write on Marse Billy's plantation. Dey was +all too dumb to larn. Dere was a shackly sort of church house on our +plantation and on Sundays atter de Niggers had cleaned deyselfs up, if +dey told Marse Billy dey wanted to go to church, he sent 'em on. All I +knows 'bout baptizin's is dey jus' tuk 'em to de river and plunged 'em +in. Dey sung somepin' 'bout: 'Gwine to de River for to be Baptized.' Us +had prayer meetin's on Wednesday nights sometimes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mussy! Don't ax me 'bout fun'rals. I got de misery in my laigs and +I feels too bad dis mornin' to let myself even think 'bout fun'rals. +Back den when slave folks died dey jus' put 'em in home-made pine +coffins what dey throwed in a wagon and tuk 'em to de graveyard. At dem +buryin's, dey used to sing:</p> + +<pre> +'Am I born to die + To let dis body down.' +</pre> + +<p>"None of our Niggers ever runned away to de North. Dey was too busy +runnin' off to de woods. Jus' to tell de truth dem Niggers on our place +was so dumb dey didn't even take in 'bout no North. Dey didn't even know +what de war was 'bout 'til it was all over. I don't know whar to start +'bout dem patterollers. Dey was de devil turned a-loose. Dere was a song +'bout 'Run Nigger run, de patteroller git you!' and dey sho' would too, +I want to tell you.</p> + +<p>"What de slaves done on Saddy night? Dey done anything dey was big +'nough to do. Dere warn't no frolickin' 'cept on Sadday night. Niggers +on our place wukked all day Sadday 'cept once a month. Some of de slaves +would slip off and stay half a day and de overseer wouldn't miss 'em +'cause dere was so many in de field. It was jus' too bad for any Nigger +what got cotched at dat trick. Sadday night, slaves was 'lowed to git +together and frolic and cut de buck.</p> + +<p>"Christmas Day Marse Billy called us to de big house and give us a +little fresh meat and sweet bread, dat was cake. Christmas warn't much +diff'unt f'um other times. Jus' more t'eat. Us jus' had dat one day off, +and New Year's Day was used as a holiday too.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dem cornshuckin's! All day 'fore a cornshuckin' dey hauled corn and +put it in great piles as high as dis here house. Us sung all de time us +was shuckin' corn. Dere was a lot of dem old shuckin' songs. De one us +sung most was: 'Whooper John and Calline all night.' Marse Billy, he +give 'em coffee and whiskey all night and dat made 'em git rough and +rowdy. Den de shucks did fly. Us had one more grand feast when de last +ear of corn had done been shucked. Dere warn't nothin' lackin'.</p> + +<p>"Cotton pickin's warn't planned for fun and frolic lak cornshuckin's. If +Marse Billy got behind in his crops, he jus' sent us back to de fields +at night when de moon was bright and sometimes us picked cotton all +night long. Marster give de 'oman what picked de most cotton a day off, +and de man what picked de most had de same privilege.</p> + +<p>"Old Aunt Martha what nussed de chillun while deir Mammies wukked in de +field was de quiltin' manager. It warn't nothin' for 'omans to quilt +three quilts in one night. Dem quilts had to be finished 'fore dey +stopped t'eat a bit of de quiltin' feast. Marse Billy 'vided dem quilts +out 'mongst de Niggers what needed 'em most.</p> + +<p>"Dem blue and white beads what de grown 'omans wore was jus' to look +pretty. Dey never meant nothin' else. Mammy would skeer us down 'bout +Rawhead and Bloody Bones. Us was all time a-lookin' for him, but he +never got dar. What skeered us most was painters (panthers) a-howlin' +close to our cabins at night. You could hear 'em most any night. When +Mammy wanted to make us behave all she had to say was: 'I hears dem +painters comin'!' Dat made us jus' shake all over and git mighty still +and quiet. De mens tried to run dem painters down, but dey never did +ketch one.</p> + +<p>"One of de cabins was allus ha'nted atter some of de slaves got kilt in +it whilst dey was fightin'. Nobody never could live in dat cabin no more +atter dat widout ha'nts gittin' atter 'em. De wust of 'em was a 'oman +ha'nt what you could hear sweepin' up leaves in de yard and all dat time +you might be lookin' hard and not see a leaf move. In dat cabin you +could all time hear ha'nts movin' cheers and knockin' on de wall. Some +of dem ha'nts would p'int a gun in your face if you met 'em in de dark. +Dem ha'nts was too much for me.</p> + +<p>"Our white folks was good as dey knowed how to be when us got sick. I +don't 'member dat dey ever had a doctor for de slaves, but dey give us +all kinds of home-brewed teas. Pinetops, mullein and fat light'ood +splinters was biled together and de tea was our cure for diff'unt +ailments. Scurvy grass tea mixed wid honey was good for stomach +troubles, but you sho' couldn't take much of it at a time. It was de +movin'est medicine! Round our necks us wore asafetida sacks tied on +strings soaked in turpentine. Dat was to keep diseases off of us.</p> + +<p>"What does I 'member 'bout de war? Well, it was fit to fetch our +freedom. Marse Billy had a fine stallion. When de sojers was comin', he +sont Pappy to de woods wid dat stallion and some gold and told him not +to let dem yankees find 'em. Dat stallion kept squealin' 'til de yankees +found him, and dey tuk him and de gold too. Grandma was a churnin' away +out on de back porch and she had a ten dollar gold piece what she didn't +want dem sojers to steal, so she drapped it in de churn. Dem yankees +poured dat buttermilk out right dar on de porch floor and got grandma's +money. Marse Billy hid hisself in a den wid some more money and other +things and dey didn't find him. Dey tuk what dey wanted of what dey +found and give de rest to de slaves. Atter de sojers left, de Niggers +give it all back to Marster 'cause he had allus been so good to 'em.</p> + +<p>"Us stayed on wid Marse Billy for sev'ral years atter de war. He paid us +$10 a month and he 'lowanced out de rations to us evvy week; most allus +on Monday 'cause Sundays us had 'nough company to eat it all at one +time. He give us three pounds of fat meat, a peck of meal, a peck of +flour, 25¢ worth of sugar, and a pound of coffee. Dat had to last a +whole week.</p> + +<p>"I didn't take in nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis and dat +dar Booker T. Washin'ton man, but I heared folks say dey was all right.</p> + +<p>"What is you talkin' 'bout Miss? I didn't need to have no big weddin' +when I married Lige Elder. It was a big 'nough thing to git a man lak +what I got. What did I want to have a big weddin' for when all I was +atter was my man? Us had done been married 25 years 'fore us had no +chillun. Dis here Cornelia what I lives wid was our first chile. She +ain't got no chillun. Isaac, my boy, has got four chillun. My old man +died 'bout two years ago.</p> + +<p>"I j'ined de church 'cause I was happy and wanted de world to know I had +done got 'ligion. I think evvybody ought to git 'ligion. God says if us +do right he will give us all a home in His Heaven.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather have de days as dey is now in some ways. But one thing I +does lak to do is eat and us had a plenty of good eatin' den and never +had to worry none 'bout whar it was a-comin' f'um. Miss, ain't you +through axin' me questions yet? I'm tired of talkin'. I done let de fire +go out under my washpot twice. Dem white folks ain't gwine to lak it if +dey has to wait for deir clothes, and dis misery in my laigs, it sho' +does hurt me bad dis mornin'."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="EveretteMartha"></a> +<h3>MARTHA EVERETTE, EX-SLAVE<br> +Hawkinsville, Georgia<br> +<br> +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson—1936)<br> +[JUL 20 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Born in Pulaski County about 1848, the daughter of Isaac and Amanda +Lathrop, Martha Everette has lived all her life near where she was born.</p> + +<p>Prior to freedom, her first job was "toting in wood", from which she was +soon "promoted" to waiting on the table, house cleaning, etc. She make +no claims to have ever "graduated" as a cook, as so many old +before-the-war Negresses do.</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Martha's owner was a kind man: he never whipped the slaves, but +the overseer "burnt 'em up sometimes." And her mother was a "whipper, +too"—a woman that "fanned" her children religiously, so to speak, not +overlooking Martha. All the Watson slaves attended the (White) Baptist +church at Blue Springs.</p> + +<p>Rations were distributed on Sunday morning of each week, and the slaves +had plenty to eat. The slaves were also allowed to fish, thus often +adding variety to their regular fare.</p> + +<p>Negro women were taught to sew by the overseers' wives, and most of the +slaves' clothes were made from cloth woven on the plantation. The +Yankees visited the Lathrop plantation in '65, asked for food, received +it, and marched on without molesting anything or any body. Truly, these +were well-behaved Yankees!</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Martha says that she remembers quite well when the Yankees +captured Jefferson Davis. She and other slave children were in the "big +house" yard when they heard drums beating, and soon saw the Yankees pass +with Mr. Davis.</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Martha, now old and decrepit, lives with one of her sons, who +takes care of her. This son is a gardener and a carpenter and, being +thrifty, fares much better than many Negroes of his generation.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="FavorLewis"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br> +Ex-Slave #30]<br> +By E. Driskell<br> +Typed by A.M. Whitley<br> +1-29-37<br> +<br> +FIRST COPY OF ARTICLE ENTITLED:<br> +"AN INTERVIEW WITH LEWIS FAVOR," EX-SLAVE<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> + +<p>[TR: informant also referred to as Favors in this document.]</p> +<br> + +<p>Among Atlanta's few remaining ex-slaves is one Lewis Favors. When he +fully understood this worker's reasons for approaching him he consented +to tell what he had seen and experienced as a slave. Chewing slowly on a +large wad of tobacco he began his account in the following manner: "I +was born in Merriweather County in 1855 near the present location of +Greenville, Georgia. Besides my mother there were eight of us children +and I was elder than all of them with one exception. Our owner was Mrs. +Favors, but she was known to everybody as the "Widow Favors." My father +was owned by a Mr. Darden who had a plantation in this same county. When +the "Widow's" husband died he left her about one-hundred acres of land +and a large sum of money and so she was considered as being rich. She +didn't have many slaves of her own and so her son (also a plantation +owner) used to send some of his slaves over occasionally to help +cultivate her crops, which consisted of cotton, corn, and all kinds of +vegetables."</p> + +<p>In regard to her treatment of the slaves that she held Mr. Favors says: +"She wasn't so tight and then she was pretty tight too."</p> + +<p>Those slaves who were field hands were in the field and at work by the +time it was light enough to see. They plowed, hoed, and then later in +the season gathered the crops. After the harvesting was over the fences +were repaired and rails were split. In rainy weather nobody had to work +out of doors, instead they shelled the peas and corn and sometimes +ginned the cotton. At night the women were required to spin and to +weave. In the winter season no work was required at night unless they +had not spun as much thread as was required. At such times they had to +work at night until the amount set had been reached.</p> + +<p>Mr. Favor's mother was the cook for the "Widow Favors" and her two +neices who lived with her. The Favors had paid the owner of a hotel Four +hundred dollars to have the hotel cook teach her (Mr. Favors mother) to +prepare all kinds of fancy dishes. His father was a field hand on the +Darden plantation. In addition to this he repaired all the shoes when +this was necessary.</p> + +<p>As a child Mr. Favors was not very strong physically and because of this +the "Widow" made him her pet. He never had to do any work other than +that of waiting on the mistress while she ate her meals. Even in this he +had to get up at four o'clock in the morning and help his mother in the +kitchen. Sometimes he would sweep the yards if he felt like doing so. +When he grew older he was given the task of picking the seed out of the +cotton at night.</p> + +<p>On Sundays all the servants were free to do as they pleased, that is, +with the exception of Mr. Favors, his mother, and the two women who +serve as maids to the "Widow's" two neices. At other times if a task was +done before the day was over with they were given the remaining time to +do as they pleased. However, everybody had a one week holiday at +Christmas.</p> + +<p>Mr. Favors made the following statement in regard to the clothing: +"Everybody wore the homespun cotton clothes that were made on the +plantation by the slave women. The women wore striped ausenberg dresses +while the men wore ausenberg pants and shirts that had been made into +one garment. My clothes were always better than the other little +fellows, who ran around in their shirttails because I was always in the +house of the "Widow." They used red clay to do the dyeing with. In the +winter time cracked feet were common. The grown people wore heavy shoes +called brogans while I wore the cast-off shoes of the white ladies. We +all wrapped our feet in bagging sacks to help them to keep warm. We were +given one complete outfit of clothes each year and these had to last +until the time for the next issue."</p> + +<p>Sheets for the beds were also made out of homespun material while the +heavier cover such as the quilts, etc., were made from the dresses and +the other clothing that was no longer fit for wear.</p> + +<p>As a general rule all of the slaves on this plantation had enough food +to keep them well and healthy. At the end of each week the field hands +were given enough food to last them seven days. For most of them the +week's supply consisted of three and one-half pounds of pork or fat +meat, one peck of meal, flour, and black molasses. The only meals that +they had to prepare from the above mentioned articles were breakfast and +supper. Dinner was cooked in the plantation kitchen by one of the women +who was too old for work in the fields. For this particular meal the +slaves had some different type of vegetable each day along with the fat +meat, corn bread, and the pot liquor which was served every day. They +were allowed to come in from the fields to the house to be served. +Breakfast usually consisted of fat meat, molasses, and corn bread while +supper consisted of pot-liquor, bread, and milk. The only variation from +this diet was on Sunday when all were allowed to have bisquits instead +of corn bread. Mr. Favors was asked what happened if anyone's food was +all eaten before it was time for the weekly issue and he answered: "It +was just too bad for them 'cause they would have to do the best they +could until the time came to get more." When such a thing happened to +anyone the others usually helped as far as their limited supplies would +permit.</p> + +<p>Mr. Favors says that he, his mother, and the two maids ate the same kind +of food that the "Widow," and her nieces were served. After he had seen +to the wants of all at the table he had to take a seat at the table +beside his owner where he ate with her and the others seated there.</p> + +<p>There were two one-roomed cabins located directly behind the four-roomed +house of the "Widow," the entire lot of them were built out of logs. +These two cabins were for the use of those servants who worked in the +house of their owner. At one end of each cabin there was a wide +fireplace which was made of sticks, stones, and dried mud. Instead of +windows there were only one or two small holes cut in the back wall of +the cabin. The beds were made out of heavy planks and were called +"Georgia Looms," by the slaves. Wooden slats were used in the place of +bed springs while the mattresses were merely large bags that had been +stuffed to capacity with hay, wheat straw, or leaves. The only other +furnishings in each of these cabins were several benches and a few +cooking utensils. Mr. Favors says: "We didn't have plank floors like +these on some of the other plantations; the plain bare ground served as +our floor." As he made this statement he reminded this worker that he +meant his mother and some of the other house servants lived in these +cabins. He himself always lived in the house with the "Widow Favors," +who had provided a comfortable bed along with a small chair for his use. +These slaves who worked in the fields lived in several cabins that were +somewhat nearer to their fields than the other two cabins mentioned +above.</p> + +<p>The remaining buildings on the Favors' plantation were the smokehouse +and the cook house where in addition to the cooking the younger children +were cared for by another old person. The woman who cared for these +children had to also help with the cooking.</p> + +<p>Whenever any of the slaves were sick the doctor was called if conditions +warranted it, otherwise a dose of castor oil was prescribed. Mr. Favors +stated that after freedom was declared the white people for whom they +worked gave them hog-feet oil and sometimes beef-oil both of which had +the same effect as castor oil. If any were too ill to work in the field +one of the others was required to remain at the cabin or at some other +convenient place so as to be able to attend to the wants of these so +indisposed.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Favors was asked if the servants on this plantation ever had +the chance to learn how to read or to write he answered: "They was all +afraid to even try because they would cut these off," and he held up his +right hand and pointed to his thumb and forefinger. At any rate the +"Widow," nieces taught him to read a few months before the slaves were +set free.</p> + +<p>On Sunday all were required to attend the white church in town. They sat +in the back of the church as the white minister preached and directed +the following text at them: "Don't steal your master's chickens or his +eggs and your backs won't be whipped." In the afternoon of this same day +when the colored minister was allowed to preach the slaves heard this +text: "Obey your masters and your mistresses and your backs won't be +whipped." All of the marriages ware performed by the colored preacher +who read a text from the Bible and then pronounced the couple being +married as man and wife.</p> + +<p>Although nobody was ever sold on the Favors plantation Mr. Favors has +witnessed the selling of others on the auction block. He says that the +block resembled a flight of steps. The young children and those women +who had babies too young to be separated from them were placed on the +bottom step, those in their early teens on the next, the young men and +women on the next, and the middle-aged and old ones on the last one. +Prices decreased as the auctioneer went from the bottom step to the top +one, that is, the younger a slave was the more money he brought if he +was sold.</p> + +<p>Sometimes there were slaves who were punished by the overseer because +they had broken some rule. Mr. Favors says that at such times a cowhide +whip was used and the number of lashes that the overseer gave depended +on the slave owner's instructions. He has seen others whipped and at +such times he began praying. The only punishment that he ever received +was as a little boy and then a switch was used instead of the whip. If +the "Patter-Roller" caught a slave out in the streets without a pass +from his master they proceeded to give the luckless fellow five lashes +with a whip called the cat-o-nine-tails. They gave six lashes if the +slave was caught out at night regardless of whether he had a pass or +not.</p> + +<p>As none of the slaves held by the "Widow" or her son ever attempted to +run away there was no punishment for this. However, he has heard that on +other plantations blood hounds were used to trail those who ran away and +if they were caught a severe beating was administered.</p> + +<p>Sometime after the civil war had begun the "Widow Favors" packed as many +of her belongings as possible and fled to LaGrange, Georgia. He and his +mother along with several other slaves (one of whom was an old man) were +taken along. He never heard any of the white people say anything about +the war or its possible results. At one time a battle was being fought a +few miles distant and they all saw the cannon balls fall on the +plantation. This was when the journey to LaGrange was decided upon. +Before leaving the "Widow" had the slaves to bury all the meat, flour, +and other food on the plantation so that the Yankee soldiers would not +get it. Mr. Favors was given about two thousand dollars in gold +currency to keep and protect for his owner. At various intervals he had +to take this money to the "Widow". so that she might count it. Another +one of the slaves was given the son's gold watch to keep on his person +until the Yanks left the vicinity.</p> + +<p>Before freedom was declared Mr. Favors says that he prayed all of the +time because he never wanted to be whipped with the cowhide, like others +he had seen. Further he says that it was a happy day for him when he was +told that he could do as he pleased because he realized then that he +could do some of the things that he had always wanted to do.</p> + +<p>When freedom was declared for the slaves the Favors family freed slaves +valued at one-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The live stock that +they sold represented a like sum. Mr. Favors and his mother remained +with the "Widow," who gave him his board in return for his services and +paid his mother twenty-five dollars per year for hers as cook.</p> + +<p>"Even after the war things were pretty tough for us" stated Mr. Favors. +"The plantation owners refused to pay more than thirty or forty cents to +a person for a days work in the fields. Some of them would not allow an +ex-slave to walk in the streets in front of their homes but made them +take to the out-of-the-way paths through the woods to reach their +various destinations. At other times white men cut the clothes from the +backs of the ex-slaves when they were well dressed. If they didn't beg +hard enough when thus accosted they might even be cut to death!" After +the first three years following the war conditions were somewhat better, +he continued.</p> + +<p>Mr. Favors says that his old age is due to the fact that he has always +taken good care of himself and because he has always refrained from +those habits that are known to tear a person's health down.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="FergusonMary"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br> +Ex-Slave #28]<br> +<br> +THE STORY OF AUNT MARY FERGUSON, EX-SLAVE<br> +1928 Oak Street<br> +Columbus, Georgia<br> +December 18, 1936</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Aunt" Mary Ferguson, née Mary Little, née Mary Shorter, was born +somewhere in Maryland; the exact locality being designated by her simply +as "the eastern shore" of that state. She was born the chattel of a +planter named Shorter, so her first name, of course, was Mary Shorter.</p> + +<p>For many years she has resided with a daughter and a granddaughter, at +1928 Oak Avenue, Columbus, Georgia.</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Mary was about thirteen years old when, in 1860, she was sold and +brought South. The story of which, as told in her own words is as +follows:</p> + +<p>"In 1860 I wuz a happy chile. I had a good ma an a good paw; one older +bruther an one older suster, an a little bruther an a baby suster, too. +All my fambly wucked in de fields, 'ceptin me an de two little uns, +which I stayed at home to mind. (mind—care for).</p> + +<p>"It wuz durin' cotton chopping time dat year (1860), a day I'll never +fergit, when de speckulataws bought me. We come home from the fiel' +'bout haf atter 'leven dat day an cooked a good dinner, I hopin her. O, +I never has forgot dat last dinner wid my fokes! But, some-ow, I had +felt, all de mawnin, lak sumpin was gwineter hapin'. I could jes feel +it in my bones! An' sho nough, bout de middle of the even', up rid my +young Marster on his hoss, an' up driv two strange white mens in a +buggy. Dey hitch dere hosses an' cum in de house, which skeered me. Den +one o' de strangers said, 'git yo clothers, Mary; we has bought you frum +Mr. Shorter." I c'menced cryin' an' beggin' Mr. Shorter to not let 'em +take me away. But he say, 'yes, Mary, I has sole yer, an' yer must go +wid em.'</p> + +<p>"Den dese strange mens, whose names I ain't never knowed, tuk me an' put +me in de buggy an' driv off wid me, me hollerin' at de top o' my voice +an' callin' my Ma! Den dem speckulataws begin to sing loud—jes to drown +out my hollerin.'</p> + +<p>"Us passed de very fiel whar paw an' all my fokes wuz wuckin, an' I calt +out as loud as I could an', as long as I could see 'em, 'good-bye, Ma!' +'good-bye, Ma!' But she never heared me. Naw, nah, daz white mens wuz +singin' so loud Ma could'n hear me! An' she could'n see me, caze dey had +me pushed down out o' sight on de floe o' de buggy.</p> + +<p>"I ain't never seed nor heared tell o' my Ma an' Paw, an' bruthers, an' +susters from dat day to dis.</p> + +<p>"My new owners tuck me to Baltymore, whar dey had herded tergether two +two-hoss wagon loads o' Niggers. All o' us Niggers wuz den shipped on a +boat to Savannah, an' frum dar us wuz put on de cyars an' sont to Macon.</p> + +<p>"In Macon, us wuz sold out, and Doctor (W.R.) Little, of Talbotton, +bought me at oxion (auction) an' tuck me home wid 'im. Den I wuz known +as Mary Little, instid of Mary Shorter."</p> + +<p>In the continuation of her narrative, "Aunt" Mary said that the Littles +trained her to be a nurse. Before the war ended, she was inherited by +Mr. Gus (the late Hon. W.A.) Little.</p> + +<p>She remembers that all the "quality", young white men who went to the +war from Talbotton took Negro men-servants (slaves) along with them. +These were usually called body-servants, and it was a body-servant's +duty to cook, wash, and do general valet service for his master. In a +pinch, he was also supposed to raid a hen roost, or otherwise rustle +food for his "white fokes".</p> + +<p>According to "Aunt" Mary, the Little Negroes were very religious and +given to much loud praying and singing, which often so disturbed Dr. +Little that he gave orders for them to stop it, and also ordered that +all lights in the slave quarters be out at 9 o'clock each night.</p> + +<p>"So us tuck to slippin' off to a big gully in de pastur to sing and pray +whar de white fokes couldn' hear us.</p> + +<p>"My fust baby wuz bawned in 1862, during de secon' year o' de war. I +has had several husbants, my las' un, he died 'bout seventeen years ago.</p> + +<p>"I ain't never seed but one hant in my life, an' I didn' know it wuz a +hant 'til Aunt Peggy (an old slave woman) tole me so. Dis hant was in de +shape o' a duck, an' it followed me one day frum de big house kitchen +ter de hawg pen whar I wuz gwine ter slop de hawgs. When I got back, I +said, 'Aunt Peggy, dar's a strange duck done tuck up wid us!' And she +say, 'hush, chile, dat's a hant!' I been seein' 'im fur severrel years! +An' dat sholy skeert me!"</p> + +<p>When asked if she had ever been whipped when a slave, "Aunt" Mary +replied, "Yes, and thank God fur it, fur ole Miss taught me to be hones' +an' not to steal." She admitted that being whipped for stealing made her +an honest woman.</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Mary's oldest child is now a man of 74. Her hair is as white as +cotton and her eye sight is dim, but she is still mentally alert. She +says that colored people are naturally religious and that they learned +all their "devilment" from the Whites. She deplores the wickedness into +which the world has drifted, but thanks God that slavery ended when it +did.</p> + +<p>She has never had any particular love for the Yankees, and thinks that +they treated the Southern white folks "most scandalously" after the war, +yet feels that she owes them a debt of gratitude for freeing her +people. She admits that her awful hatred of slavery was born of her sad +experience as a girl when she was so unceremoniously separated from her +loved ones, as previously told. She is also of the firm opinion the +those "speculataws" who brought her from Maryland to Georgia in 1860 are +"brilin in hell fur dey sin" of seperating her from her people.</p> + +<pre> +Must Jesus bear the cross alone +and all the world go free? +No, there is a cross for every one; +there's a cross for me; +This consecrated cross I shall bear til +death shall set me free, +And then go home, my crown to wear; +there is a crown for me. +</pre> + +<p>Sung for interviewer by Mary Ferguson, ex-slave, December 18, 1936.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="FryerCarrieNancy"></a> +<h3>FOLKLORE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +CARRIE NANCY FRYER<br> +415 Mill Street<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Miss Maude Barragan<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residency #13<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>An angular, red-skinned old Negro women was treading heavily down the +dusty sidewalk, leaning on a gnarled stick and talking to a little black +girl. A "sundown" hat shaded a bony face of typical Indian cast and her +red skin was stretched so tight over high cheek bones that few wrinkles +showed.</p> + +<p>"Auntie," she was asked, "have you time to tell me something about +slavery times?" "No'm, I sorry," she answered, "but I gwine to see a +sick lady now, and I gots to 'tend to somepin'." "May I come back to see +you at your house?" "Yas'm, any time you wants. I live in de lil' house +on de canal, it has a ellum tree in front. I riz it from sapling. I name +dat lil' tree 'Nancy' so when I gone, folks kin come by and bow and say +'Howdy, Nancy.'"</p> + +<p>She seated herself on a stone step and spread her many skirts of gray +chambray, hand-sewed with big white stitches. An old woman came by, her +shining black face puckered with anxiety, dressed in a starched white +uniform and a battered black hat, well brushed.</p> + +<p>"Morning, Nancy," she said. "You look mighty peak-ked dis morning."</p> + +<p>"Hunh!" grunted Nancy, "I oughter. I bin to see de mayor. I say 'Mr. +Mayor, here I is. I ain' got nuttin' to eat—it ain' right for a woman +my age to beg food. Now what yer gwine do 'bout it?' De mayor say: +'Auntie, you go right down to de welfare office at de Court House and +tell de lady I sont you to git somepin' to eat.' I done dat—dey promise +to send a lady, but I ain' see no lady yit." A heavy sigh rolled out. "I +didn' lef' skin of meat in my house or a piece of cornpone. But I didn' +take nuttin' to heart 'cause de Lord is my helper."</p> + +<p>The old woman sighed too. "Yeah, Nancy, das de way dey does. I ain' +gwine keep nasty house for nobody. But white people's funny. Dey think +if you got clean house and bleachin' sheets you mus' have somepin' to +eat inside." She clenched her fist, and her voice rose. "I tells you +right now—I gwine keep my house neat jus' like I bin taught, ef I never +gits no somepin' t'eat and ain' got cornpone in de oven."</p> + +<p>"A poor creeter come to my house today to beg for somepin' to eat," said +Nancy, "I ain' got nuttin' and I tell her so. She say she gwine to de +court-house too."</p> + +<p>"T'won't do no good," answered the other woman. "Come over here, Nancy. +I wants to talk to you."</p> + +<p>With a dignified excuse, Nancy creaked to her long length and moved +deliberately to the edge of the sidewalk. Whisperings followed, the +voices of the two old women rising in their excitement.</p> + +<p>"I ain' gwine into somepin' I don't know nuttin' about."</p> + +<p>"Nobody gwine 'swade me either."</p> + +<p>"My husband didn' put no composin' on me. If I don't git but one meal a +day, I ain' gwine dirty. I didn' have mouthful t'eat in my house."</p> + +<p>The interested eavesdropper decided that the welfare office had talked +social security to the women instead of direct relief, and they were +worried and suspicious about the matter. The old black woman was getting +angrier and angrier.</p> + +<p>"If any of 'em lookin' for me to have nasty old tore-up house, I ain' +gwine did it. You dunno when sickness come. When my boy got his leg +broke up, soon as dey could, dey put him off on me. Miz' Powell say: +'Steve, if you don't be good to your ma, de Lord gwine take your +blessing from you.' Dey paid Steve $137.00, Nancy, and he ain't gimmie a +nickle! He spent it on a woman in Edgefield. But my gal is diffunt. If +she ain' got but one mouthful she gwine give me half."</p> + +<p>Nancy nodded: "Dat like my gal too."</p> + +<p>The old woman took up her complaint again: "Um got daughter. When you +walk in her house, you think dey is a white person's house. When I was +workin and able, I put down as many bleachin' sheets as any white +'oman."</p> + +<p>Nancy's ponderous sigh rolled out. She was very "peaked" indeed on this +hot September morning. "If sister got a hoecake of bread, she gwine give +it to me. Ain' nobody else to help now—de Lord done come along and got +ev'y one of my mother's chillun but me."</p> + +<p>Seeing that present necessities were too important to permit an +interview, the visitor said: "Nancy, I'll see you tomorrow." A +preoccupied goodbye followed the interviewer, and the excited +conversation rose again.</p> + +<p>Three days later Nancy was found on the cluttered back porch of her +house by the canal. She was moving heavily about, picking up behind a +white boy and her bright-faced grandchild. Her face was still worried, +but her manner was warm and friendly.</p> + +<p>"I knowed you'd be comin'," she said, smiling, "but I looked for you +yesterday." She sat down and settled herself for conversation, her long +hands, still nice looking in spite of rheumatism, moving nervously over +her gray chambray lap. "Dis las' gone August I was 72 years old," she +began, "my sister say I older dan dat, but I know I born las' year of de +war. I was born on governor Pickens' place, de Grove place fur out, and +my mother was Lizbeth Cohen. Must have was my father a Indian, he +brighter dan me, but redder. I kin' member Miss Dooshka Pickens, de one +what went to Europe. Dey put all de lil' chillun in a row for her to +look at, and she sittin' up on her lil' pony lookin' at us chillun. She +was a pretty thing, yeah, I knowed her well. After de war my mother and +father rented land, paid de rent. We liveded well. I would go to school +three months when we first gether all de krep (crop). We had a colored +teacher in de Baptist Church where dey taught school. De name was +Spring Grove.</p> + +<p>"My father died and mother, she moved over in Ca-lina on General +Butler's place. She work in de fields. I wouldn' go to school but three +months in de year. When I growed up I work for Colonel Doctor McKie in +de house. He de fines' doctor I ever knowed. I got married to General +Butler's place where my mother was. I done had six chillun before I come +to Augusta. I nused to work for Dr. Sam Litchenstein, 17 years. He moved +to Louisville and dat thow me out anything to do. He tried to git me to +go down dere wid him but I fell in bad health. Den my daughter and dis +yere grandchild, I couldn' bear to leave dem. I cried when Dr. Sam lef', +he was good to me. I nused to carry dis grandchild to his house wid me +all de time."</p> + +<p>As Nancy's plantation recollections seemed vague, she was prompted to +talk about remedies and cures and on these her mind worked with speed +and decision.</p> + +<p>"I had high blood pressure so bad I couldn' walk right. My head nused to +spin, laying down all night, couldn' res. One night I doze off in my +sleep and a lady's spirit come to me. Her and my mother was two friends, +her name was Cyndie Gardenigh. She say: 'Honey, in de morning when you +git up, you git you some jimpson weed and put it wid cookin' salt and +bind it on your head.' I done det. I nused to have long hair to my +shoulder. Jimpson weed done cut my hair off, but it cured my blood +pressure. Mus' did kill 'em!"</p> + +<p>Asked how she treated her rheumatism, Nancy replied:</p> + +<p>"Git a pint glass wid a pint of kerosene in it, and a block of camphor. +Cut up de camphor and mix it round in de kerosene. Pat it on when de +pain come. When I got up dis morning, dis yere hand I couldn' move, and +now it feel a heap better. Lord, I done work so hard thoo' life, and all +done tuk from me!"</p> + +<p>A moment's silence brought shadows to Nancy's face. A twinge in her knee +reminded her of rheumatism cures. She rubbed the painful spot and +resumed: "You know what I am wearin' on my leg now? I made me two lil' +bags and put a Irish potato in it, and when it drawed up jus' as hard as +a log it done me good. But you got to <i>steal</i> two Irish potatoes, +and put around both legs jus' below de knee. I just' be leanin' back +stiff all de time, couldn' walk. A old white man told me about dat. He +see me walkin' along crooked and he say: 'Auntie, what's de matter?' I +told him. He say: 'Now, I'll tell you what cure me. I was off in a furn +(foreign) country, and a man say; me walking cripple, and he told me to +steal two Irish potatoes and wear 'em, and when dey git hard you burn +'em up.' I specked I bin crooked up all kind of fashion if I ain't done +dat: I always bind a piece of brass around my leg. Das' good like gold."</p> + +<p>The eager grandchild was hanging over Nancy's shoulder, listening and +smiling. The white boy edged up, and Nancy laughed. "Hunh! I spects dese +chillun kin 'member tomorrow every word I tells you today. Dey knows +everything." Her bony arm encircled the Negro child. "Jooroosalom +oak—we got some and give it to dis lil' thing for worms. She went off +in a trance and never come out until 2 o'clock nex' day. I think we got +de wrong thing and give her root instead of seed. I never fool wid it no +more it skeered me so. Thought we had killed de child."</p> + +<p>Nancy was asked what her methods were in raising children.</p> + +<p>"Bin so long I mos' forgot," she said. "All my babies growed straight +'cause I swep' 'em 9 times for 9 mornings from de knees down on out, +dataway, and bathed 'em wid pot liquor and dish water. I ain' nused no +root cep' sassafax roots to make tea outten das good to purge your blood +in de spring of de year. Drinkin' water from a horse trough, I hearn' +tell das good for whoopin' cough and all lika-dat."</p> + +<p>"Dat daughter of mine, she had a wen on her neck big as a apple. An old +lady come to me. 'I come to git my child today,' she say, 'a lady died +dis morning and I wants to take her dere.' Well I didn' want my child +gwine to de death house but she take her. De corpse ain' cold yit. She +put her 9 times across, nine times straight, and dat child was cured. +Yas'm, she got jus' as pretty face now! Ain' no use talkin', she +straighten my child, her and de Lord! De wen went and jus' pass away. +You got to do it before de corpse git cold, jus' after de breaf' pass +out of de body."</p> + +<p>"I done mark three of my chillun. Yas'm, I ruin't three of 'em. I was +een de country and I was gwine thoo' de orchard, and de cherries was +scarce. I looked up in de man's cherry tree, and one tree was full of +fruit. Dey jus' as pretty! I say: 'Jim, please sir, give me one of dem +cherries.' Jim say: 'No!' I stood dere wishin' for dem cherries, +scratchin' my wrist, and my child born wid cherry on his wrist, right +where I scratch! I took de baby and showed him to old man Jim, and he +cry and pray over dat cherry and told me to forgive him and he never +would do it no more. But he done it den."</p> + +<p>"I live in de country. I come to town where a white man was down here on +McKinne Street makin' dat soft white candy. I stood up and wished for +it. It did look so pretty and I wanted some so bad and I didn' have no +money. I was cryin', scratchin' my forehead over my right eye near de +hair. He didn' give me none. When my gal born, she had white mark right +on her forehead in de place I scratched."</p> + +<p>"My sister-in-law made me ruin't my other child. Twas an old man coming +along. He was ruptured. He had on a white ap'on, and she bus' out +laughin' and say: 'Look at dat!' I jus' young gal, ain' be thinkin' and +I bus' out laughin' too, he did look funny. I ruin't my boy. He was in +de same fix and when I look at him I feel so bad, and think 'dat didn' +have to be.'"</p> + +<p>"Dis kin happen: anybody see another person wid pretty hair and rub dey +hair down, dat child gwine have mustee hair too. A old black 'oman had a +baby. She seen somebody wid dat mustee hair (das what we calls black +folks wid smooth straight hair) and when her child born, everybody say: +'Look what dis baby got! Long black hair!"</p> + +<p>Asked about persons born with cauls, Nancy grunted:</p> + +<p>"Hunh! My mother said it cover my head, shoulders and all! I kin see +ghosts. Was a man lived right dere in dat house yonder. His name was +Will Beasley but we call 'im Bee. De fus' time he got sick he had a +stroke, den he git up. De doctor told him to be careful but he would go +out. One night about 8 o'clock I see him go. I stay sittin' here on dis +porch, and about 10 o'clock here come Bee out of his house, in his night +clothes out de open door and cross de yard. He go behind dat house. I +call out: 'Bee, I thought you was gone off? He didn' notice me no more +dan I never spoke. I got worried about him bein' sick and when he come +out from behind de house I say: 'Bee, you bes' be gwine indorrs, dress +lika-dat. You git sick again.' He walk straight back in de house. Pretty +soon here come Bee down de street, all dressed up in his brown pants and +white shirt! I grab de bannister just' a-tremblin' and de hair rizzed up +on my head. I knowed den he ain' got long for here. He come on by and +say: 'Nancy, how you feelin'?' I say: 'Bee, how long you bin out?' He +say: 'Why, I bin gone since 8 o'clock.' I didn't say nuttin' but I +knowed I seed his spirit and it was his death. He tooken sick two or +three weeks later jus' before Labor Day, and died all paralyzed up. A +woman come to my house and say: 'Nancy, give dis to Bee.' I didn' want +to see him if he dyin' but I went on over. I call: 'Bee! Bee!' He say: +'Who dat, you, Miz' Nancy?' I say: 'Here's a bottle of medicine Miss +Minnie sont you.' He say: 'I can't move my right side.' He was: laying +wid his leg and arm in the air: stiff as a board. He say: 'Miz Nancy?' I +say: 'Hunh?' He say: 'Go down de canal bank and tell my Minnie please +come and rub me 'cause she know how. I want my Minnie.' Das de 'oman he +bin livin' wid since his wife lef' him. I wait till de King Mill boys +come along and call 'em. 'Tell Miz' Minnie dat Will Bee want her to come +and rub him.' But she never did come till 12 o'clock and he was dead +before she come.</p> + +<p>"I did had a niece what died. She was about 20 years old and a good +boy. Twas a year in August. I went on so over him, his mother say: +'Don't you know his last words was, 'I'm on my way to heaven and I ain' +gwine turn back?' Don't worry, Nancy.' But I did worry. Dat night he +come to me in spirit. He stand dere and look at me and smile, and he +say: 'Aunt, I am all right. Aunt, I am all right,' over and over. Den it +went off. I was jus' as satisfy den, and I never worry no more."</p> + +<p>Nancy said she saw ghosts all through her childhood. She did not +characterize them as "hants" but spoke of them throughout as ghosts.</p> + +<p>"I seed 'em when I was chillun," she said, "me and my sister one night +was comin' from spring. Twas in de winter time and jus' as cold, twas +dark and I had de light. Sister say: 'Babe, don't let dat light go out.' +Jus' den I seed it—a horse's head all spread out in fore! A big ball of +fire! I yelled: 'Oh, sister, look at de horse wid a head of fire!' She +knock me out for dead! She grab dat light and run home and lef' me in de +wood. When I come to I run to my mother crying and she say: 'Now Nancy, +you know you kin see 'em but you ought not to tell de other chillun and +skeer 'em. You mus' keep it to yourself.' Ever since den, I won't tell +nobody what I kin see. Yas'm, I wake up in de nighttime and see 'em +standin' all 'bout dis house. I ain' skeered—when you born wid de veil +it jus' be natchel to see 'em. Why, I sees 'em on de canal bank when de +fog sprangles through de trees and de shape forms on de ground'.</p> + +<p>"I hears de death alarm too. One kind of call comes from out de sky, a +big howlin' noise, loud like singin'—a regular tune. De other kind goes +'hummmmmmm' like somebody moanin'. I was settin' down and de bull bat +come in de house. Me and de chillun done all we could to git him out de +house. A woman nex' door was name Rachel. I say: 'Rachel! Dere's a bull +bat in here and we can't get him out.' You know what she done? She turn +her pocket inside out and dat bat went out de door jus' like it come in! +Dat a simple thing to do, ain' it? But it done de work. Dat was on +Thursday night. Saturday morning I got de news that my babiest sister +was dead. One of my boys was wid her. I was settin' down wid my head +bowed, prayin', and a white man dressed in a white robe come in de house +and stood before me and say: 'Oh, yeah! I gwine take your sister! Den +what your child gwine do?' I sot down and studied and I said: 'Lord, +I'll do de bes' I kin.' And Miss you know I had to take dat child back!</p> + +<p>"Before I los' my husband ev'y time he go out to work I couldn' hear +nuttin' but knockin'—ever he step out de house somebody come to de door +and knock four slow knocks. If he go off in de night it wouldn' stop +till he git back. I wouldn' tell him 'cause I knowed twould worry him. I +say: 'Sam, les' us move.' He say: 'Honey, we ain' long bin move here.' +But us 'cided to move anyway. Twas a big show in town. I let all de +chillun go to de show. Time I got my things fix up to move and went to +cook my dinner come de knockin' four times. I knowed he'd be took sick +pretty soon. He didn' 'low me to work. Dat was a good husband! I had six +chillun. He say: 'Honey, no! I workin' makin' enough to support you. All +I want you to do is keep dis house clean and me and my chillun, and I +will pay you de five dollars every week de white lady would pay you.' +And he done dat, gimme five dollars every week for myself.</p> + +<p>"A white lady was crazy about my work, jus' her and her husband. I got +up soon one morning, time he left, and runned up dere and washed her +clothes and ironed dem. Den I started back home 'bout noon. I heared +somethin' walkin' behind me. 'Bip! Bip!' I look round and didn' see +nuttin'. I kep' a lookin' back and den I heard a voice moanin' and kind +of singing: 'Oh, yeah! I bin here and done took your mother. I bin here +and done took your sister! Now I'm a-comin' to take your husband!' +Talking to me like-dat in de broad open daytime! I say: 'No, you won't! +No, you won't!' I commence a runnin', cryin' inside. When I got home I +thow myself on de bed shiverin' and shakin'. Twas no dinner done dat +day. When he come home dat night he tooken sick and never got up again. +He knock on de head of de bed jus' like de knocks come at de door, when +he want me to go to him! He never lived but two weeks and went on to de +judgment!</p> + +<p>"One night dey was givin' my husband toddy. He drink some and wanted me +to finish it. I told him no, I ain' drinkin' after no sick folks 'cause +it mean death. His first cousin tooked it and drank it. He was a fine +looking man in two months he was gone too!</p> + +<p>"My husband come to me in spirit any time I git worried up. When I git +in trouble he'll come and stand over me wid his arms folded behind him. +He told me one night: 'You must pray, Nancy. You must pray! Um gwine +help, and de Lord gwine help you too.' Missy, how you reckon he gwine +help me if he dead? I ask de Lord and beg him to take me too, beg him to +please carry me home."</p> + +<p>Nancy was becoming more and more doleful, and to take her mind from the +thought of her dead husband, she was asked about remedies.</p> + +<p>"When us had de mumps mother git sardines and take de oil out and rub us +jaws and dat cure us good. Sassafax for measles, to run de numor (humor) +out de blood. When de fever gone, she would grease us wid grease from +skin of meat. Git fat light'ood, make fire, cut de skin off bacon meat, +broil it over flame and let grease drip into a pan, den rub us all over +for de rash. Couldn' wash us you see, 'cep' under de arms a little +'cause water musn' tech us. For a sty in de eye we nused to say: 'Sty! +Lie!' You see dat call 'em a lie and dey go on off. 'Um got a sty! Sty! +Lie!' When witches ride me I took a sifter. An old lady told me de nex' +time dey come, 'you put de sifter in de bed.' I done dat and dey ain' +bother me since. A basin of water under de bed is good too."</p> + +<p>Nancy had an experience with a gold digger. He came to board, and had an +inconvenient habit of staying up all night. "I nused to have a old man +stay here wid me. One night I couldn' lay down it was so cold, so I sit +up and wrop in a blanket. He say: 'Nancy, see yonder! In de corner of +your yard is a pot of gold.' Now I knows if you go and git de money what +de dead done bury, you don't see no peace, so I told him he couldn' dig +in my yard. I made him move. A 'oman say he went to stay wid her and +when she got up one morning he had dug a hole in de yard big as a well, +so she runned him off too. He had all de implee-ments but he wouldn' let +nobody see him digging in de night. Well Miss, I knowed dat gold was +truly in my yard, because I got up one night and looked out dere, and a +white 'oman was standin' right where de old man say twas gold pot. I +look at de white lady, a high white lady, and she kep' her eye down in +dat corner guardin' de gold what she bury! Den I seed her go on off +thoo' de gate and I knowed twas de spirit of de woman what bury it."</p> + +<p>Nancy did not remember any stories about witches, booger-men or animals, +but she did give a version of the story of the mistress who was buried +alive.</p> + +<p>"Dat really did happen in Edgefield," she said. "Marster los' his +daughter and den his butler went to de cemetery and dugged her up. He +was gittin' de jewelries off of her finger when she moan; 'Oh, you +hurtin' my finger!' He runned back to de house and she got up out of de +coffin and went to de Big House. She knock on de door and her father +went, and he fainted. Her mother went, and she fainted. Everyone went to +de door fainted. But her father come to himself and he was so happy to +have his daughter back, he said God let de man dig her up and git her +out alive. He made dat nigger rich. Gin him a whole plantation and two +big carriage horses and a great big carriage and I dunno how much gold +and silver. Told him he didn' want him to do anything but sit down and +live off of what he gin him de res' of his life."</p> + +<p>Nancy asked her visitor to write a postcard to her "dear doctor" in +Louisville and tell him she was having a hard time. She insisted that +the card be signed: "Your Carrie Fryer what used to work for you, with +love."</p> + +<p>"Come back and see me some more," she begged wistfully, "I bin callin' +you in my mind all week."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="FurrAnderson"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +ANDERSON FURR, Age 87<br> +298 W. Broad Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (white)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7</h3> +<br> + +<p>Anderson Furr's address led the interviewer to a physician's residence +on Broad Street, where she was directed to a small frame house on the +rear of the lot. The little three-room cottage has a separate entrance +from Pulaski Street. Three stone steps lead from the street to the +narrow yard which is enclosed by a low rock coping. Anderson rents only +one room and the remainder of the house is occupied by Annie Sims and +her husband, George, who works at the Holman Hotel.</p> + +<p>Reclining comfortably in a cane-backed chair, with his walking stick +conveniently placed across his knees, Anderson was enjoying the shade of +a wide spread oak tree in the tidy yard. His costume consisted of a +battered old black felt hat, a dingy white shirt, dark gray pants, and +scuffed black shoes. Asked if he remembered the days when the North was +fighting the South for his freedom, Anderson replied: "'Member fightin'! +Why, Lady! Dey ain't never stopped fightin' yit. Folks has been +a-fightin' ever since I come in dis world, and dey will be fightin' long +atter I is gone.</p> + +<p>"I dis'members what was de name of de town whar I was borned, but it was +in Hall County. Lydia and Earl Strickland was my Ma and Pa. All of deir +chillun is daid now 'cept me and Bob. De others was: Abe, Bill, Jim, and +Sarah. Dere ain't much to tell 'bout what us done dem days, 'cept play +and eat. Dem what was big 'nough had to wuk.</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Miss! It's lak dis: I is a old Nigger, and I done been here for +many years, but dese last few years I sho' has been a sick man, and now +I can't git things straight in my mind lak dey was den. I knows us lived +in log houses what had great big chimblies made out of sticks and mud. +Why, dem fireplaces was 'bout eight feet wide, and you could put a whole +stick of cord wood on de fire. Us slept on high-up old timey beds what +had big posties and instead of springs, dey had stout cords wove 'cross +to hold de mattress. De last time I slept on one of dem sort of beds was +when I was a little boy, sleepin' wid my Ma. Pa and Ma was both field +hands. Ma's mammy was de onliest one of my grandmas I ever seed. Her +name was Ca'line and she lived wid Grandpa Abe on another plantation. +Ma's sister, my aunt Ca'line was cook up at our Old Marster's big house.</p> + +<p>"Money? Yessum! Dey gimme a little money now and den for totin' water to +de field, sweepin' de yards, and a million other things dey used to make +me do. De most dey ever gimme was 50 cents. I never spent none of it, +but jus' turned it over to my Ma. Chillun warn't 'lowed to spend money +den lak dey does now, 'cause dey had evvything dey needed anyhow. Old +Marster, he give us plenty somepin t'eat, such as it was. Dere was lots +of cornbread, a little meat now and den, collards, whip-poor-will peas +and dem unknown peas what was most big as a dime, and black 'lasses—dat +was lallyho.</p> + +<p>"Us cotch lots of 'possums, but mighty few of 'em us Niggers ever got a +chance to eat, or rabbits neither. Dey made Niggers go out and hunt 'em +and de white folks et 'em. Our mouths would water for some of dat +'possum but it warn't often dey let us have none. I don't know nothin' +'bout no fishin' bein' done dem days. Yessum, slaves had deir own +gyardens, and dey better wuk 'em good if dey wanted any gyarden sass to +eat. Cookin' was done in dem big open fireplaces, mostly in pots and +thick iron skillets what had lids on 'em.</p> + +<p>"Boys wore long blue striped shirts in summer and nothin' else a t'all. +Dem shirts was made jus' lak mother hubbards. Us wore de same thing in +winter only dem shirts was made new for winter. By summer dey had done +wore thin. When de weather got too cold, Marster give us old coats, what +grown folks had done most wore out, and us warn't none too warm den wid +de wind a-sailin' under our little old shirt tails. Our shoes was rough +old brogans what was hard as rocks, and us had to put rags inside 'em to +keep 'em from rubbin' de skin off our foots. Us didn't know what socks +and stockin's was dem.</p> + +<p>"Marse Earl Strickland owned us. Miss Sarah was his old 'oman and dey +was sho' mighty good to deir slaves. White folks was heap better folks +den dan dey is now anyhow. Now-a-days dey will knock you up right now, +and won't be long 'bout it. I can't git up no ricollections 'bout 'em +havin' no chillun a t'all. Seems lak I know for sho' dey didn't have +none. Dey never had no fine house neither; jus' a plain common house wid +a chimbly at both ends.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! Marster never had no overseer; no car'iage driver neither; +didn't even have no car'iage yit. He did have a surrey what he hitched +mules to and driv for hisself. Warn't no hoss on dat plantation, nothin' +'cept mules.</p> + +<p>"How big was dat plantation? Good Granny! it was so big I never did git +all de way over it, and dere must a been 15 or 20 slaves. Old Marster +got us up 'bout sunrise and fetched us in at sundown. He was all time +knockin' on his Niggers 'bout somepin. He 'lowed dey didn't do dis, or +dat, or somepin else right—he allus had to have some 'scuse to knock +'em 'round."</p> + +<p>A little Negro boy, possibly five years old, came up to Anderson with a +peach in his hand and said: "Look, Uncle Anderson, C.T. done gimme dis +peach what he stole off dat dar wagon." The old man reached out his +hand. "Boy, you gimme dat peach," he commanded. "You knows I lak +peaches. Give it to me, I say. I do declar', nigger chillun jus' got to +steal anyhow. Run git yourself 'nother peach off dat wagon, but don't +you let dat man see you git it. Put dat peach under your shirt 'til you +gits in dis yard, and if you leave dis yard 'gain I'll buss your haid +wide open. Does you hear me, Boy?</p> + +<p>"What was dat you was a-axin' 'bout jails, Miss? Yessum, us had 'em. +Niggers would git too rowdy-lak, drinkin' liquor and fightin', and dat +was when de white folks slapped 'em in de gyardhouse, widout a bite to +eat. Gyardhouses is called jails dese days. I'se lak my Ma. I'se a +fighter. Ma would jump on anybody what looked at her twice. De onliest +time I ever got in de gyardhouse was a long time atter de end of de big +War. A man owed me some money, and when I axed him for it, he got mad +and knocked me down. I got right up and knocked him out, and right den +and dar I was sont to de gyardhouse.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, Miss! Slave folks warn't 'lowed no time for to larn readin' +and writin'. Deir time was all tuk up in de field at wuk. Slaves went to +de white folks' church, but one thing sho' dey couldn't read de Bible +for deirselfs and couldn't write none. Jus' to tell de truth, I didn't +take in what dey sung at church, but I ain't forgot dem baptizin's. I'se +been to so many of 'em. Evvybody went in dem days. Dere warn't no place +in de church houses for to be ducked dem days, so de white folks had a +pool dug out by de branch for de baptizin's, and white folks and slaves +was ducked in de same pool of water. White folks went in fust and den de +Niggers. Evvybody what come dar sung a song 'bout 'My Sins has all been +Washed Away, and I is White as Snow.'</p> + +<p>"Slave fun'rels was mournful sights, for sho'. Dem home-made coffins was +made out of pine planks, and dey warn't painted or lined or nothin'. And +slave coffins warn't no diffunt from de ones de white folks used. Our +Marster sot aside a spot in his own buryin' grounds for de slaves' +graveyard. When dey was a-buryin' folks dey sung a song what went +somepin lak dis: 'Oh, Lord! Us takes 'em to de Graveyard, Never to fetch +'em Back.'</p> + +<p>"If slaves did run off to de North, I never heared nothin' 'bout it. Oh, +Lord! I jus' can't talk 'bout dem patterollers, for it looked lak all +de white folks tried to jine up wid 'em. How dey did beat up us pore +Niggers! Us had to git a pass for dis and a pass for dat, and dere jus' +warn't nothin' us could do widout dem patterollers a-beatin' us up. Dey +beat you wid a cowhide lash what cut a gash in your back evvy time it +struck you. Yessum, white folks and Niggers was all time quar'ellin' and +fightin'.</p> + +<p>"When slaves got in from de fields dey et deir somepin t'eat and went to +bed. Dey didn't have to wuk on Saddays atter dinnertime. When our old +Marster turned us loose, he turned us loose; and when he wuked us, us +sho' was wuked. De young folks had deir big times on Sadday nights. Dey +danced and frolicked 'round sort of lak dey does now. Evvybody went to +de meetin' house on Sunday, and dere's whar Niggers had a good time +a-courtin'.</p> + +<p>"Christmas was de time when old Marster let us do pretty much as us +pleased. Us had all kinds of good things t'eat, and atter us drunk a lot +of liquor it warn't long 'fore dere was a Nigger fight goin' on. Yessum, +us had cornshuckin's, cotton pickin's, quiltin's, log rollin's, and all +sich as dat. Wid plenty t'eat and good liquor to drink on hand, Niggers +would shuck corn or pick cotton all night. It was de big eats and lots +of liquor dat made slaves lak dem things.</p> + +<p>"Little slave boys played wid sun-baked marbles, made of mud, and old +rag balls, what was sho' a heap diffunt from what chilluns thinks dey +has got to have dese days 'fore dey kin have a good time.</p> + +<p>"Marster had mighty good keer tuk of his slaves when dey got sick. Dere +warn't many doctors dem days. Dey jus' used home-made medicines, mostly +teas made out of yarbs (herbs). I jus' can't git up no ricollection of +what yarbs dey did put in dem teas. I does 'member dat chillun had to +live wid bags of assfiddy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off +ailments. Ma give me and Bob, each one, a block of dat assfiddy for good +luck. I throwed my block 'way a few years ago, and I ain't had nothin' +but bad luck ever since. Dat's why I can't git up de things you wants to +know 'bout. My mind jus' don't wuk right no more.</p> + +<p>"Dem yankees was on de go all de time. One of 'em come to old Marster's +house and axed one of my uncles to go off wid him. Uncle was old and +skeered and he thought de yankees might kill him or somepin lak dat. +When de War was done over, old Marster told us 'bout how things was. He +said us was free and would have to do de best us could for ourselfs. Dem +was happy days for Niggers. Dey sho' didn't take no more foolishment off +of white folks atter dat, and dey don't pay 'em no mind now. Niggers got +so bad atter dey got deir freedom dat de Ku Kluxers come 'round and made +'em be'have deirselfs. One of dem Kluxers come to our house and set down +and talked to us 'bout how us ought to act, and how us was goin' to have +to do, if us 'spected to live and do well. Us allus thought it was our +own old Marster, all dressed up in dem white robes wid his face kivvered +up, and a-talkin' in a strange, put-on lak, voice. None of Marster's +Niggers never left him for 'bout two or three years. Dere warn't no way +for Niggers to buy no land 'til atter dey could make and save up some +money. Marster jus' paid up his Niggers once a year, at de end of crap +time. It warn't long atter de War was over 'fore dere was some few +schools for Niggers scattered 'round 'bout.</p> + +<p>"When did I git married? Lordy, Miss! Such things de giverment do want +to know 'bout pore old Niggers! It warn't 'til ten years atter us was +freed, dat me and Martha Freeman got married up together. Dat was one +sho' 'nough fine weddin' what Miss Sallie Morton and our other white +friends give us. Dey give us evvything us had at dat big old feast. Dere +was three tables full, one for de white folks, and two for de Niggers, +and dem tables was jus' loaded down wid good things. Willie and Ida was +de onliest chillun me and Martha had, and dey never lived to git grown. +Martha died out and den I married up wid Mamie White. Us didn't have no +chillun and Mamie's daid now. Dey's all daid 'cept me.</p> + +<p>"I thinks it was a good thing Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis did set us free, +and I sho hopes de giverment won't never fetch slavery back no more.</p> + +<p>"I never will forgit de day I jined up wid Morton's Baptist Church. I +had done helped my Pa build it from a brush arbor to a sho' 'nough +church house. De reason I jined up was 'cause de Marster had done +changed me from nature to Grace. I thinks evvybody ought to jine up in +de church 'cause it's de Lord's will.</p> + +<p>"Miss, I done told you all I knows and I'se a sick man, so go 'long wid +you and let me take my rest."</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13602 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/13602-h/images/jcole.jpg b/13602-h/images/jcole.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..253a5f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/13602-h/images/jcole.jpg diff --git a/13602-h/images/mbutler.jpg b/13602-h/images/mbutler.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..97f369b --- /dev/null +++ b/13602-h/images/mbutler.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..8cb399e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #13602 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13602) diff --git a/old/13602-8.txt b/old/13602-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8b504b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13602-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10001 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery +in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1, 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: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1 + +Author: Work Projects Administration + +Release Date: October 5, 2004 [EBook #13602] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: GEORGIA *** + + + + +Produced by Jeannie Howse, 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 IV + +GEORGIA NARRATIVES + +PART 1 + + + + +Prepared by +the Federal Writers' Project of +the Works Progress Administration +for the State of Georgia + + +INFORMANTS + +Adams, Rachel +Allen, Uncle Wash [TR: originally listed as Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)] +Allen, Rev. W.B. [TR: different informant] +Atkinson, Jack +Austin, Hannah +Avery, Celestia [TR: also appended is interview with Emmaline Heard + that is repeated in Part 2 of the Georgia Narratives] +Baker, Georgia +Battle, Alice +Battle, Jasper +Binns, Arrie +Bland, Henry +Body, Rias +Bolton, James +Bostwick, Alec +Boudry, Nancy +Bradley, Alice, and Colquitt, Kizzie [TR: interviews filed together + though not connected] +Briscoe, Della +Brooks, George +Brown, Easter +Brown, Julia (Aunt Sally) +Bunch, Julia +Butler, Marshal +Byrd, Sarah + +Calloway, Mariah +Castle, Susan +Claibourn, Ellen +Clay, Berry +Cody, Pierce +Cofer, Willis +Colbert, Mary +Cole, John +Cole, Julia +Colquitt, Martha + +Davis, Minnie +Davis, Mose +Derricotte, Ike +Dillard, Benny + +Eason, George +Elder, Callie +Everette, Martha + +Favor, Lewis [TR: also referred to as Favors] +Ferguson, Mary +Fryer, Carrie Nancy +Furr, Anderson + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Marshal Butler [TR: not listed in original index] +John Cole + + +[TR: The interview headers presented here contain all information +included in the original, but may have been rearranged for readability. +Also, some ages and addresses have been drawn from blocks of information +on subsequent interview pages. Names in brackets were drawn from text of +interviews.] + +[TR: Some interviews were date-stamped; these dates have been added +to interview headers in brackets. Where part of date could not be +determined -- has been substituted. These dates do not appear to +represent actual interview dates, rather dates completed interviews +were received or perhaps transcription dates.] + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +RACHEL ADAMS, Age 78 +300 Odd Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + + +Rachel Adams' two-room, frame house is perched on the side of a steep +hill where peach trees and bamboo form dense shade. Stalks of corn at +the rear of the dwelling reach almost to the roof ridge and a portion of +the front yard is enclosed for a chicken yard. Stepping gingerly around +the amazing number of nondescript articles scattered about the small +veranda, the visitor rapped several times on the front door, but +received no response. A neighbor said the old woman might be found at +her son's store, but she was finally located at the home of a daughter. + +Rachel came to the front door with a sandwich of hoecake and cheese in +one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Dis here's Rachel Adams," +she declared. "Have a seat on de porch." Rachel is tall, thin, very +black, and wears glasses. Her faded pink outing wrapper was partly +covered by an apron made of a heavy meal sack. Tennis shoes, worn +without hose, and a man's black hat completed her outfit. + +Rachel began her story by saying: "Miss, dats been sich a long time back +dat I has most forgot how things went. Anyhow I was borned in Putman +County 'bout two miles from Eatonton, Georgia. My Ma and Pa was 'Melia +and Iaaac Little and, far as I knows, dey was borned and bred in dat +same county. Pa, he was sold away from Ma when I was still a baby. Ma's +job was to weave all de cloth for de white folks. I have wore many a +dress made out of de homespun what she wove. Dere was 17 of us chillun, +and I can't 'member de names of but two of 'em now--dey was John and +Sarah. John was Ma's onliest son; all de rest of de other 16 of us was +gals. + +"Us lived in mud-daubed log cabins what had old stack chimblies made out +of sticks and mud. Our old home-made beds didn't have no slats or metal +springs neither. Dey used stout cords for springs. De cloth what dey +made the ticks of dem old hay mattresses and pillows out of was so +coarse dat it scratched us little chillun most to death, it seemed lak +to us dem days. I kin still feel dem old hay mattresses under me now. +Evvy time I moved at night it sounded lak de wind blowin' through dem +peach trees and bamboos 'round de front of de house whar I lives now. + +"Grandma Anna was 115 years old when she died. She had done wore herself +out in slavery time. Grandpa, he was sold off somewhar. Both of 'em was +field hands. + +"Potlicker and cornbread was fed to us chillun, out of big old wooden +bowls. Two or three chillun et out of de same bowl. Grown folks had +meat, greens, syrup, cornbread, 'taters and de lak. 'Possums! I should +say so. Dey cotch plenty of 'em and atter dey was kilt ma would scald +'em and rub 'em in hot ashes and dat clean't 'em jus' as pretty and +white. OO-o-o but dey was good. Lord, Yessum! Dey used to go fishin' and +rabbit huntin' too. Us jus' fotched in game galore den, for it was de +style dem days. Dere warn't no market meat in slavery days. Seemed lak +to me in dem days dat ash-roasted 'taters and groundpeas was de best +somepin t'eat what anybody could want. 'Course dey had a gyarden, and it +had somepin of jus' about evvything what us knowed anything 'bout in de +way of gyarden sass growin' in it. All de cookin' was done in dem big +old open fireplaces what was fixed up special for de pots and ovens. +Ashcake was most as good as 'taters cooked in de ashes, but not quite. + +"Summertime, us jus' wore homespun dresses made lak de slips dey use for +underwear now. De coats what us wore over our wool dresses in winter was +knowed as 'sacques' den, 'cause dey was so loose fittin'. Dey was heavy +and had wool in 'em too. Marse Lewis, he had a plenty of sheep, 'cause +dey was bound to have lots of warm winter clothes, and den too, dey +lakked mutton to eat. Oh! dem old brogan shoes was coarse and rough. +When Marse Lewis had a cow kilt dey put de hide in de tannin' vat. When +de hides was ready, Uncle Ben made up de shoes, and sometimes dey let +Uncle Jasper holp him if dere was many to be made all at one time. Us +wore de same sort of clothes on Sunday as evvyday, only dey had to be +clean and fresh when dey was put on Sunday mornin'. + +"Marse Lewis Little and his wife, Miss Sallie, owned us, and Old Miss, +she died long 'fore de surrender. Marse Lewis, he was right good to all +his slaves; but dat overseer, he would beat us down in a minute if us +didn't do to suit him. When dey give slaves tasks to do and dey warn't +done in a certain time, dat old overseer would whup 'em 'bout dat. +Marster never had to take none of his Niggers to court or put 'em in +jails neither; him and de overseer sot 'em right. Long as Miss Sallie +lived de carriage driver driv her and Marse Lewis around lots, but atter +she died dere warn't so much use of de carriage. He jus' driv for Marse +Lewis and piddled 'round de yard den. + +"Some slaves larnt to read and write. If dey went to meetin' dey had to +go wid deir white folks 'cause dey didn't have no sep'rate churches for +de Niggers 'til atter de war. On our Marster's place, slaves didn't go +off to meetin' a t'all. Dey jus' went 'round to one another's houses and +sung songs. Some of 'em read de Bible by heart. Once I heared a man +preach what didn't know how to read one word in de Bible, and he didn't +even have no Bible yit. + +"De fust baptizin' I ever seed was atter I was nigh 'bout grown. If a +slave from our place ever jined up wid a church 'fore de war was over, I +never heared tell nothin' 'bout it. + +"Lordy, Miss! I didn't know nothin' 'bout what a funeral was dem days. +If a Nigger died dis mornin', dey sho' didn't waste no time a-puttin' +him right on down in de ground dat same day. Dem coffins never had no +shape to 'em; dey was jus' squar-aidged pine boxes. Now warn't dat +turrible? + +"Slaves never went nowhar widout dem patterollers beatin' 'em up if dey +didn't have no pass. + +"Dere was hunderds of acres in dat dere plantation. Marse Lewis had a +heap of slaves. De overseer, he had a bugle what he blowed to wake up +de slaves. He blowed it long 'fore day so dat dey could eat breakfast +and be out dere in de fields waitin' for de sun to rise so dey could see +how to wuk, and dey stayed out dar and wukked 'til black dark. When a +rainy spell come and de grass got to growin' fast, dey wukked dem slaves +at night, even when de moon warn't shinin'. On dem dark nights one set +of slaves helt lanterns for de others to see how to chop de weeds out of +de cotton and corn. Wuk was sho' tight dem days. Evvy slave had a task +to do atter dey got back to dem cabins at night. Dey each one hed to +spin deir stint same as de 'omans, evvy night. + +"Young and old washed deir clothes Sadday nights. Dey hardly knowed what +Sunday was. Dey didn't have but one day in de Christmas, and de only +diff'unce dey seed dat day was dat dey give 'em some biscuits on +Christmas day. New Year's Day was rail-splittin' day. Dey was told how +many rails was to be cut, and dem Niggers better split dat many or +somebody was gwine to git beat up. + +"I don't 'member much 'bout what us played, 'cept de way us run 'round +in a ring. Us chillun was allus skeered to play in de thicket nigh de +house 'cause Raw Head and Bloody Bones lived der. Dey used to skeer us +out 'bout red 'taters. Dey was fine 'taters, red on de outside and +pretty and white on de inside, but white folks called 'em +'nigger-killers.' Dat was one of deir tricks to keep us from stealin' +dem 'taters. Dere wern't nothin' wrong wid dem 'taters; dey was jus' as +good and healthy as any other 'taters. Aunt Lucy, she was de cook, and +she told me dat slaves was skeered of dem 'nigger-killer' 'taters and +never bothered 'em much den lak dey does de yam patches dese days. I +used to think I seed ha'nts at night, but it allus turned out to be +somebody dat was tryin' to skeer me. + +"'Bout de most fun slaves had was at dem cornshuckin's. De general would +git high on top of de corn pile and whoop and holler down leadin' dat +cornshuckin' song 'til all de corn was done shucked. Den come de big +eats, de likker, and de dancin'. Cotton pickin's was big fun too, and +when dey got through pickin' de cotton dey et and drunk and danced 'til +dey couldn't dance no more. + +"Miss, white folks jus' had to be good to sick slaves, 'cause slaves was +property. For Old Marster to lose a slave, was losin' money. Dere warn't +so many doctors dem days and home-made medicines was all de go. Oil and +turpentine, camphor, assfiddy (asafetida), cherry bark, sweetgum bark; +all dem things was used to make teas for grown folks to take for deir +ailments. Red oak bark tea was give to chillun for stomach mis'ries. + +"All I can ricollect 'bout de comin' of freedom was Old Marster tellin' +us dat us was free as jack-rabbits and dat from den on Niggers would +have to git deir own somepin t'eat. It warn't long atter dat when dem +yankees, wid pretty blue clothes on come through our place and dey stole +most evvything our Marster had. Dey kilt his chickens, hogs, and cows +and tuk his hosses off and sold 'em. Dat didn't look right, did it? + +"My aunt give us a big weddin' feast when I married Tom Adams, and she +sho' did pile up dat table wid heaps of good eatments. My weddin' dress +was blue, trimmed in white. Us had six chillun, nine grandchillun, and +19 great-grandchillun. One of my grandchillun is done been blind since +he was three weeks old. I sont him off to de blind school and now he kin +git around 'most as good as I kin. He has made his home wid me ever +since his Mammy died. + +"'Cordin' to my way of thinkin', Abraham Lincoln done a good thing when +he sot us free. Jeff Davis, he was all right too, 'cause if him and +Lincoln hadn't got to fightin' us would have been slaves to dis very +day. It's mighty good to do jus' as you please, and bread and water is +heaps better dan dat somepin t'eat us had to slave for. + +"I jined up wid de church 'cause I wanted to go to Heben when I dies, +and if folks lives right dey sho' is gwine to have a good restin' place +in de next world. Yes Mam, I sho b'lieves in 'ligion, dat I does. Now, +Miss, if you ain't got nothin' else to ax me, I'se gwine home and give +dat blind boy his somepin t'eat." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slv. #4] + +WASHINGTON ALLEN, EX-SLAVE +Born: December --, 1854 +Place of birth: "Some where" in South Carolina +Present Residence: 1932-Fifth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: December 18, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + +[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the next informant, Rev. W.B. Allen.] + + +The story of "Uncle Wash", as he is familiarly known, is condensed as +follows: + +He was born on the plantation of a Mr. Washington Allen of South +Carolina, for whom he was named. This Mr. Allen had several sons and +daughters, and of these, one son--George Allen--who, during the 1850's +left his South Carolina home and settled near LaFayette, Alabama. About +1858, Mr. Washington Allen died and the next year, when "Wash" was "a +five-year old shaver", the Allen estate in South Carolina was +divided--all except the Allen Negro slaves. These, at the instance and +insistence of Mr. George Allen, were taken to LaFayette, Alabama, to be +sold. All were put on the block and auctioned off, Mr. George Allen +buying every Negro, so that not a single slave family was divided up. + +"Uncle Wash" does not remember what he "fetched at de sale", but he does +distinctly remember that as he stepped up on the block to be sold, the +auctioneer ran his hand "over my head and said: Genilmens, dis boy is +as fine as split silk". Then when Mr. George Allen had bought all the +Allen slaves, it dawned upon them, and they appreciated, why he had +insisted on their being sold in Alabama, rather than in South Carolina. + +Before he was six years of age, little "Wash" lost his mother and, from +then until freedom, he was personally cared for and looked after by Mrs. +George Allen; and the old man wept every time he mentioned her name. + +During the '60's, "Uncle Wash's" father drove a mail and passenger stage +between Cusseta and LaFayette, Alabama--and, finally died and was buried +at LaFayette by the side of his wife. "Uncle Wash" "drifted over" to +Columbus about fifty years ago and is now living with his two surviving +children. + +He has been married four times, all his wives dying "nachul" deaths. He +has also "buried four chillun". + +He was taught to read and write by the sons and daughters of Mr. George +Allen, and attended church where a one-eyed white preacher--named Mr. +Terrentine--preached to the slaves each Sunday "evenin'" (afternoon). +The salary of this preacher was paid by Mr. George Allen. + +When asked what this preacher usually preached about, "Uncle Wash" +answered: "He was a one-eyed man an' couldn' see good; so, he mout +a'made some mistakes, but he sho tole us plenty 'bout hell fire 'n +brimstone." + +"Uncle Wash" is a literal worshipper of the memory of his "old time +white fokes." + + + + +J.R. Jones + +REV. W.B. ALLEN, EX-SLAVE +425-Second Ave +Columbus, Georgia +(June 29, 1937) +[JUL 28 1937] + +[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the previous informant, Washington +Allen, interviewed on Dec. 18, 1936. The previous interview for Rev. +Allen that is mentioned below is not found in this volume.] + + +In a second interview, the submission of which was voluntarily sought by +himself, this very interesting specimen of a rapidly vanishing type +expressed a desire to amend his previous interview (of May 10, 1937) to +incorporate the following facts: + +"For a number of years before freedom, my father bought his time from +his master and traveled about over Russell County (Alabama) as a +journeyman blacksmith, doing work for various planters and making good +money--as money went in those days--on the side. At the close of the +war, however, though he had a trunk full of Confederate money, all of +his good money was gone. + +Father could neither read nor write, but had a good head for figures and +was very pious. His life had a wonderful influence upon me, though I was +originally worldly--that is, I drank and cussed, but haven't touched a +drop of spirits in forty years and quit cussing before I entered the +ministry in 1879. + +I learned to pray when very young and kept it up even in my unsaved +days. My white master's folks knew me to be a praying boy, and asked +me--in 1865--when the South was about whipped and General Wilson was +headed our way--to pray to God to hold the Yankees back. Of course, I +didn't have any love for any Yankees--and haven't now, for that +matter--but I told my white folks straight-from-the-shoulder that I +_could not_ pray along those lines. I told them flat-footedly that, +while I loved them and would do any reasonable praying for them, I could +not pray against my conscience: that I not only wanted to be free, but +that I wanted to see all the Negroes freed! + +I then told them that God was using the Yankees to scourge the +slave-holders just as He had, centuries before, used heathens and +outcasts to chastise His chosen people--the Children of Israel." + +(Here it is to be noted that, for a slave boy of between approximately +15 and 17 years of age, remarkable familiarity with the Old Testament +was displayed.) + +The Parson then entered into a mild tirade against Yankees, saying: + +"The only time the Northern people ever helped the Nigger was when they +freed him. They are not friends of the Negro and many a time, from my +pulpit, have I warned Niggers about going North. No, sir, the colored +man doesn't belong in the North---has no business up there, and you may +tell the world that the Reverend W.B. Allen makes no bones about saying +that! He also says that, if it wasn't for the influence of the white +race in the South, the Negro race would revert to savagery within a +year! Why, if they knew for dead certain that there was not a policeman +or officer of the law in Columbus tonight, the good Lord only knows what +they'd do tonight"! + +When the good Parson had delivered himself as quoted, he was asked a +few questions, the answers to which--as shall follow--disclose their +nature. + +"The lowest down Whites of slavery days were the average overseers. A +few were gentlemen, one must admit, but the regular run of them were +trash--commoner than the 'poor white trash'--and, if possible, their +children were worse than their daddies. The name, 'overseer', was a +synonym for 'slave driver', 'cruelty', 'brutishness'. No, sir, a Nigger +may be humble and refuse to talk outside of his race--because he's +afraid to, but you can't fool him about a white man! + +And you couldn't fool him when he was a slave! He knows a white man for +what he is, and he knew him the same way in slavery times." + +Concerning the punishment of slaves, the Reverend said: + +"I never heard or knew of a slave being tried in court for any thing. I +never knew of a slave being guilty of any crime more serious than taking +something or violating plantation rules. And the only punishment that I +ever heard or knew of being administered slaves was whipping. + +I have personally known a few slaves that were beaten to death for one +or more of the following offenses: + + Leaving home without a pass, + + Talking back to--'sassing'--a white person, + + Hitting another Negro, + + Fussing, fighting, and rukkussing in the quarters, + + Lying, + + Loitering on their work, + + Taking things--the Whites called it stealing. + + Plantation rules forbade a slave to: + + Own a firearm, + + Leave home without a pass, + + Sell or buy anything without his master's consent, + + Marry without his owner's consent, + + Have a light in his cabin after a certain hour at night, + + Attend any secret meeting, + + Harbor or [HW: in] any manner assist a runaway slave, + + Abuse a farm animal, + + Mistreat a member of his family, and do + + A great many other things." + +When asked if he had ever heard slaves plot an insurrection, the Parson +answered in the negative. + +When asked if he had personal knowledge of an instance of a slave +offering resistance to corporal punishment, the Reverend shook his head, +but said: + +"Sometimes a stripped Nigger would say some hard things to the white man +with the strap in his hand, though he knew that he (the Negro) would pay +for it dearly, for when a slave showed spirit that way the master or +overseer laid the lash on all the harder." + +When asked how the women took their whippings, he said: + +"They usually screamed and prayed, though a few never made a sound." + +The Parson has had two wives and five children. Both wives and three of +his children are dead. He is also now superannuated, but occasionally +does a "little preaching", having only recently been down to Montezuma, +Georgia, on a special call to deliver a message to the Methodist flock +there. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slave #2] +Henrietta Carlisle + +JACK ATKINSON--EX-SLAVE +Rt. D +Griffin, Georgia +Interviewed August 21, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + + +"Onct a man, twice a child," quoted Jack Atkinson, grey haired darkey, +when being interviewed, "and I done started in my second childhood. I +useter be active as a cat, but I ain't, no mo." + +Jack acquired his surname from his white master, a Mr. Atkinson, who +owned this Negro family prior to the War Between the States. He was a +little boy during the war but remembers "refugeeing" to Griffin from +Butts County, Georgia, with the Atkinsons when Sherman passed by their +home on his march to the sea. + +Jack's father, Tom, the body-servant of Mr. Atkinson, "tuck care of him" +[HW: during] the four years they were away at war. "Many's the time I +done heard my daddy tell 'bout biting his hands he wuz so hongry, and +him and Marster drinking water outer the ruts of the road, they wuz so +thirsty, during the war." + +"Boss Man (Mr. Atkinson), wuz as fine a man as ever broke bread", +according to Jack. + +When asked how he got married he stated that he "broke off a love vine +and throwed it over the fence and if it growed" he would get married. +The vine "just growed and growed" and it wasn't long before he and Lucy +married. + +"A hootin' owl is a sho sign of rain, and a screech owl means a death, +for a fact." + +"A tree frog's holler is a true sign of rain." + +Jack maintains that he has received "a second blessing from the Lord" +and "no conjurer can bother him." + + + + +Whitley +1-25-37 +[HW: Dis #5 +Unedited] +Minnie B. Ross + +EX TOWN SLAVE HANNAH AUSTIN +[HW: about 75-85] +[APR 8 1937] + + +When the writer was presented to Mrs. Hannah Austin she was immediately +impressed with her alert youthful appearance. Mrs. Austin is well +preserved for her age and speaks clearly and with much intelligence. The +interview was a brief but interesting one. This was due partly to the +fact that Mrs. Austin was a small child when The Civil War ended and too +because her family was classed as "town slaves" so classed because of +their superior intelligence. + +Mrs. Austin was a child of ten or twelve years when the war ended. She +doesn't know her exact age but estimated it to be between seventy and +seventy five years. She was born the oldest child of Liza and George +Hall. Their master Mr. Frank Hall was very kind to them and considerate +in his treatment of them. + +Briefly Mrs. Austin gave the following account of slavery as she knew +it. "My family lived in a two room well built house which had many +windows and a nice large porch. Our master, Mr. Hall was a merchant and +operated a clothing store. Because Mr. Hall lived in town he did not +need but a few slaves. My family which included my mother, father, +sister, and myself were his only servants. Originally Mr. Hall did not +own any slaves, however after marrying Mrs. Hall we were given to her by +her father as a part of her inheritance. + +My mother nursed Mrs. Hall from a baby, consequently the Hall family was +very fond of her and often made the statement that they would not part +with her for anything in the world, besides working as the cook for the +Hall family my mother was also a fine seamstress and made clothing for +the master's family and for our family. We were allowed an ample amount +of good clothing which Mr. Hall selected from the stock in his store. My +father worked as a porter in the store and did other jobs around the +house. I did not have to work and spent most of my time playing with the +Hall children. We were considered the better class of slaves and did not +know the meaning of a hard time. + +Other slave owners whipped their slaves severely and often, but I have +never known our master to whip any one of my family. If any one in the +family became ill the family doctor was called in as often as he was +needed. + +We did not have churches of our own but were allowed to attend the white +churches in the afternoon. The White families attended in the forenoon. +We seldom heard a true religious sermon; but were constantly preached +the doctrine of obedience to our masters and mistresses. We were +required to attend church every Sunday. + +Marriages were conducted in much the same manner as they are today. +After the usual courtship a minister was called in by the master and the +marriage ceremony would then take place. In my opinion people of today +are more lax in their attitude toward marriage than they were in those +days. Following the marriage of a slave couple a celebration would take +place often the master and his family would take part in the +celebration. + +I remember hearing my mother and father discuss the war; but was too +young to know just the effect the war would have on the slave. One day I +remember Mr. Hall coming to my mother telling her we were free. His +exact words were quote--"Liza you don't belong to me any longer you +belong to yourself. If you are hired now I will have to pay you. I do +not want you to leave as you have a home here as long as you live." I +watched my mother to see the effect his words would have on her and I +saw her eyes fill with tears. Mr. Hall's eyes filled with tears also. + +Soon after this incident a Yankee Army appeared in our village one day. +They practically destroyed Mr. Hall's store by throwing all clothes and +other merchandise into the streets. Seeing my sister and I they turned +to us saying, "Little Negroes you are free there are no more masters and +mistresses, here help yourselves to these clothes take them home with +you." Not knowing any better we carried stockings, socks, dresses, +underwear and many other pieces home. After this they opened the smoke +house door and told us to go in and take all of the meat we wanted. + +On another occasion the mistress called me asking that I come in the +yard to play with the children". Here Mrs. Austin began to laugh and +remarked "I did not go but politely told her I was free and didn't +belong to any one but my mama and papa. As I spoke these words my +mistress began to cry. + +My mother and father continued to live with the Halls even after freedom +and until their deaths. Although not impoverished most of the Hall's +fortune was wiped out with the war". + +Mrs. Austin married at the age of 16 years; and was the mother of four +children, all of whom are dead. She was very ambitious and was +determined to get an education if such was possible. After the war +Northern white people came south and set up schools for the education of +Negroes. She remembers the organization of the old Storrs School from +which one of the present Negroes Colleges originated. + +Mrs. Austin proudly spoke of her old blue back speller, which she still +possesses; and of the days when she attended Storrs School. + +As the writer made ready to depart Mrs. Austin smilingly informed her +that she had told her all that she knew about slavery; and every word +spoken was the truth. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex Slave #1 +Ross] + +"A FEW FACTS OF SLAVERY" +As Told by CELESTIA AVERY--EX-SLAVE +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Mrs. Celestia Avery is a small mulatto woman about 5 ft. in height. She +has a remarkably clear memory in view of the fact that she is about 75 +years of age. Before the interview began she reminded the writer that +the facts to be related were either told to her by her grandmother, +Sylvia Heard, or were facts which she remembered herself. + +Mrs. Avery was born 75 years ago in Troupe County, LaGrange, Ga. the +eighth oldest child of Lenora and Silas Heard. There were 10 other +children beside herself. She and her family were owned by Mr. & Mrs. +Peter Heard. In those days the slaves carried the surname of their +master; this accounted for all slaves having the same name whether they +were kin or not. + +The owner Mr. Heard had a plantation of about 500 acres and was +considered wealthy by all who knew him. Mrs. Avery was unable to give +the exact number of slaves on the plantation, but knew he owned a large +number. Cotton, corn, peas, potatoes, (etc.) were the main crops raised. + +The homes provided for the slaves were two room log cabins which had one +door and one window. These homes were not built in a group together but +were more or less scattered over the plantation. Slave homes were very +simple and only contained a home made table, chair and bed which were +made of the same type of wood and could easily be cleaned by scouring +with sand every Saturday. The beds were bottomed with rope which was run +backward and forward from one rail to the other. On this framework was +placed a mattress of wheat straw. Each spring the mattresses were +emptied and refilled with fresh wheat straw. + +Slaves were required to prepare their own meals three times a day. This +was done in a big open fire place which was filled with hot coals. The +master did not give them much of a variety of food, but allowed each +family to raise their own vegetables. Each family was given a hand out +of bacon and meal on Saturdays and through the week corn ash cakes and +meat; which had been broiled on the hot coals was the usual diet found +in each home. The diet did not vary even at Christmas only a little +fruit was added. + +Each family was provided with a loom and in Mrs. Avery's family, her +grandmother, Sylvia Heard, did most of the carding and spinning of the +thread into cloth. The most common cloth for women clothes was homespun, +and calico. This same cloth was dyed and used to make men shirts and +pants. Dye was prepared by taking a berry known as the shumake berry and +boiling them with walnut peelings. Spring and fall were the seasons for +masters to give shoes and clothing to their slaves. Both men and women +wore brogan shoes, the only difference being the piece in the side of +the womens. + +One woman was required to do the work around the house there was also +one slave man required to work around the house doing odd jobs. Other +than these two every one else was required to do the heavy work in the +fields. Work began at "sun up" and lasted until "sun down". In the +middle of the day the big bell was rung to summon the workers from the +field, for their mid-day lunch. After work hours slaves were then free +to do work around their own cabins, such as sewing, cooking (etc.) + +"Once a week Mr. Heard allowed his slaves to have a frolic and folks +would get broke down from so much dancing" Mrs. Avery remarked. The +music was furnished with fiddles. When asked how the slaves came to own +fiddles she replied, "They bought them with money they earned selling +chickens." At night slaves would steal off from the Heard plantation, go +to LaGrange, Ga. and sell chickens which they had raised. Of course the +masters always required half of every thing raised by each slave and it +was not permissible for any slave to sell anything. Another form of +entertainment was the quilting party. Every one would go together to +different person's home on each separate night of the week and finish +that person's quilts. Each night this was repeated until every one had a +sufficient amount of covering for the winter. Any slave from another +plantation, desiring to attend these frolics, could do so after securing +a pass from their master. + +Mrs. Avery related the occasion when her Uncle William was caught off +the Heard plantation without a pass, and was whipped almost to death by +the "Pader Rollers." He stole off to the depths of the woods here he +built a cave large enough to live in. A few nights later he came back to +the plantation unobserved and carried his wife and two children back to +this cave where they lived until after freedom. When found years later +his wife had given birth to two children. No one was ever able to find +his hiding place and if he saw any one in the woods he would run like a +lion. + +Mr. Heard was a very mean master and was not liked by any one of his +slaves. Secretly each one hated him. He whipped unmercifully and in most +cases unnecessarily. However, he sometimes found it hard to subdue some +slaves who happened to have very high tempers. In the event this was the +case he would set a pack of hounds on him. Mrs. Avery related to the +writer the story told to her of Mr. Heard's cruelty by her grandmother. +The facts were as follows: "Every morning my grandmother would pray, and +old man Heard despised to hear any one pray saying they were only doing +so that they might become free niggers. Just as sure as the sun would +rise, she would get a whipping; but this did not stop her prayers every +morning before day. This particular time grandmother Sylvia was in +"family way" and that morning she began to pray as usual. The master +heard her and became so angry he came to her cabin seized and pulled her +clothes from her body and tied her to a young sapling. He whipped her so +brutally that her body was raw all over. When darkness fell her husband +cut her down from the tree, during the day he was afraid to go near her. +Rather than go back to the cabin she crawled on her knees to the woods +and her husband brought grease for her to grease her raw body. For two +weeks the master hunted but could not find her; however, when he finally +did, she had given birth to twins. The only thing that saved her was the +fact that she was a mid-wife and always carried a small pin knife which +she used to cut the navel cord of the babies. After doing this she tore +her petticoat into two pieces and wrapped each baby. Grandmother Sylvia +lived to get 115 years old. + +Not only was Mr. Henderson cruel but it seemed that every one he hired +in the capacity of overseer was just as cruel. For instance, Mrs. +Henderson's grandmother Sylvia, was told to take her clothes off when +she reached the end of a row. She was to be whipped because she had not +completed the required amount of hoeing for the day. Grandmother +continued hoeing until she came to a fence; as the overseer reached out +to grab her she snatched a fence railing and broke it across his arms. +On another occasion grandmother Sylvia ran all the way to town to tell +the master that an overseer was beating her husband to death. The master +immediately jumped on his horse and started for home; and reaching the +plantation he ordered the overseer to stop whipping the old man. Mrs. +Avery received one whipping, with a hair brush, for disobedience; this +was given to her by the mistress. + +Slaves were given separate churches, but the minister, who conducted the +services, was white. Very seldom did the text vary from the usual one of +obedience to the master and mistress, and the necessity for good +behavior. Every one was required to attend church, however, the only +self expression they could indulge in without conflict with the master +was that of singing. Any one heard praying was given a good whipping; +for most masters thought their prayers no good since freedom was the +uppermost thought in every one's head. + +On the Heard plantation as on a number of others, marriages were made by +the masters of the parties concerned. Marriage licenses were unheard of. +If both masters mutually consented, the marriage ceremony was considered +over with. After that the husband was given a pass to visit his wife +once a week. In the event children were born the naming of them was left +entirely to the master. Parents were not allowed to name them. + +Health of slaves was very important to every slave owner for loss of +life meant loss of money to them. Consequently they would call in their +family doctor, if a slave became seriously ill. In minor cases of +illness home remedies were used. "In fact," Mrs. Avery smilingly +remarked, "We used every thing for medicine that grew in the ground." +One particular home remedy was known as "Cow foot oil" which was made by +boiling cow's feet in water. Other medicines used were hoarhound tea, +catnip tea, and castor oil. Very often medicines and doctors failed to +save life; and whenever a slave died he was buried the same day. Mrs. +Avery remarked, "If he died before dinner the funeral and burial usually +took place immediately after dinner." + +Although a very young child, Mrs. Avery remembers the frantic attempt +slave owners made to hide their money when the war broke out. The +following is a story related concerning the Heard family. "Mr. Heard, +our master, went to the swamp, dug a hole, and hid his money, then he +and his wife left for town on their horses. My oldest brother, Percy, +saw their hiding place; and when the Yanks came looking for the money, +he carried them straight to the swamps and showed than where the money +was hidden." Although the Yeard [TR: typo "Heard"] farm was in the +country the highway was very near and Mrs. Avery told of the long army +of soldiers marching to La Grange singing the following song: "Rally +around the flag boys, rally around the flag, joy, joy, for freedom." +When the war ended Mr. Heard visited every slave home and broke the news +to each family that they were free people and if they so desired could +remain on his plantation. Mrs. Avery's family moved away, in fact most +slave families did, for old man Heard had been such a cruel master +everyone was anxious to get away from him. However, one year later he +sold his plantation to Mr George Traylor and some of the families moved +back, Mrs. Avery's family included. + +Mrs. Avery married at the age of 16; and was the mother of 14 children, +three of whom are still living. Although she has had quite a bit of +illness during her life, at present she is quite well and active in +spite of her old age. She assured the writer that the story of slavery, +which she had given her, was a true one and sincerely hoped it would do +some good in this world. + + + + +FOLKLORE (Negro) +Minnie B. Ross + +[MRS. CELESTIA AVERY] + + +In a small house at 173 Phoenix Alley, N.E. lives a little old woman +about 5 ft. 2 in. in height, who is an ex-slave. She greeted the writer +with a bright smile and bade her enter and have a seat by the small fire +in the poorly lighted room. The writer vividly recalled the interview +she gave on slavery previously and wondered if any facts concerning +superstitions, conjure, signs, etc. could be obtained from her. After a +short conversation pertaining to everyday occurrences, the subject of +superstition was broached to Mrs. Avery. The idea amused her and she +gave the writer the following facts: As far as possible the stories are +given in her exact words. The interview required two days, November 30 +and December 2, 1936. + +"When you see a dog lay on his stomach and slide it is a true sign of +death. This is sho true cause it happened to me. Years ago when I lived +on Pine Street I was sitting on my steps playing with my nine-months old +baby. A friend uv mine came by and sat down; and as we set there a dog +that followed her began to slide on his stomach. It scared me; and I +said to her, did you see that dog? Yes, I sho did. That night my baby +died and it wuzn't sick at all that day. That's the truth and a sho sign +of death. Anudder sign of death is ter dream of a new-born baby. One +night not so long ago I dreamt about a new-born baby and you know I went +ter the door and called Miss Mary next door and told her I dreamed about +a new-born baby, and she said, Oh! that's a sho sign of death. The same +week that gal's baby over there died. It didn't surprise me when I heard +it cause I knowed somebody round here wuz go die." She continued: + +"Listen, child! If ebber you clean your bed, don't you never sweep off +your springs with a broom. Always wipe 'em with a rag, or use a brush. +Jest as sho as you do you see or experience death around you. I took my +bed down and swept off my springs, and I jest happened to tell old Mrs. +Smith; and she jumped up and said, 'Child, you ought not done that +cause it's a sign of death.' Sho nuff the same night I lost another +child that wuz eight years old. The child had heart trouble, I think." + +Mrs. Avery believes in luck to a certain extent. The following are +examples of how you may obtain luck: + +"I believe you can change your luck by throwing a teaspoonful of sulphur +in the fire at zackly 12 o'clock in the day. I know last week I was +sitting here without a bit of fire, but I wuzn't thinking bout doing +that till a 'oman came by and told me ter scrape up a stick fire and put +a spoonful of sulphur on it; and sho nuff in a hour's time a coal man +came by and gave me a tub uv coal. Long time ago I used ter work fer +some white women and every day at 12 o'clock I wuz told ter put a +teaspoonful of sulphur in the fire." + +"Another thing, I sho ain't going ter let a 'oman come in my house on +Monday morning unless a man done come in there fust. No, surree, if it +seem lak one ain't coming soon, I'll call one of the boy chilluns, jest +so it is a male. The reason fer this is cause women is bad luck." + +The following are a few of the luck charms as described by Mrs. Avery: + +"Black cat bone is taken from a cat. First, the cat is killed and +boiled, after which the meat is scraped from the bones. The bones are +then taken to the creek and thrown in. The bone that goes up stream is +the lucky bone and is the one that should be kept." "There is a boy in +this neighborhood that sells liquor and I know they done locked him up +ten or twelve times but he always git out. They say he carries a black +cat bone," related Mrs. Avery. + +"The Devil's shoe string looks jest like a fern with a lot of roots. My +mother used to grow them in the corner of our garden. They are lucky. + +"Majres (?) are always carried tied in the corner of a handkerchief. I +don't know how they make 'em. + +"I bought a lucky stick from a man onct. It looked jest lak a candle, +only it wuz small; but he did have some sticks as large as candles and +he called them lucky sticks, too, but you had to burn them all night in +your room. He also had some that looked jest lak buttons, small and +round." + +The following are two stories of conjure told by Mrs. Avery: + +"I knowed a man onct long ago and he stayed sick all der time. He had +the headache from morning till night. One day he went to a old man that +wuz called a conjurer; this old man told him that somebody had stole the +sweat-band out of his cap and less he got it back, something terrible +would happen. They say this man had been going with a 'oman and she had +stole his sweat-band. Well, he never did get it, so he died. + +"I had a cousin named Alec Heard, and he had a wife named Anna Heard. +Anna stayed sick all der time almost; fer two years she complained. One +day a old conjurer came to der house and told Alec that Anna wuz +poisoned, but if he would give him $5.00 he would come back Sunday +morning and find the conjure. Alec wuz wise, so he bored a hole in the +kitchen floor so that he could jest peep through there to der back +steps. Sho nuff Sunday morning the nigger come back and as Alec watched +him he dug down in the gound a piece, then he took a ground puppy, threw +it in the hole and covered it up. All right, he started digging again +and all at onct he jumped up and cried: 'Here 'tis! I got it.' 'Got +what?' Alec said, running to the door with a piece of board. 'I got the +ground puppy dat wuz buried fer her.' Alec wuz so mad he jumped on that +man and beat him most to death. They say he did that all the time and +kept a lot of ground puppies fer that purpose." Continuing, she +explained that a ground puppy was a worm with two small horns. They are +dug up out of the ground, and there is a belief that you will die if one +barks at you. + +Mrs. Avery related two ways in which you can keep from being conjured by +anyone. + +"One thing I do every morning is ter sprinkle chamber-lye [HW: (urine)] +with salt and then throw it all around my door. They sho can't fix you +if you do this. Anudder thing, if you wear a silver dime around your +leg they can't fix you. The 'oman live next door says she done wore two +silver dimes around her leg for 18 years." + +Next is a story of the Jack O'Lantern. + +"Onct when I wuz a little girl a lot of us chillun used to slip off and +take walnuts from a old man. We picked a rainy night so nobody would see +us, but do you know it looked like a thousand Jack ma' Lanterns got in +behind us. They wuz all around us. I never will ferget my brother +telling me ter get out in the path and turn my pocket wrong side out. I +told him I didn't have no pocket but the one in my apron; he said, +'well, turn that one wrong side out.' Sho nuff we did and they scattered +then." + +Closing the interview, Mrs. Avery remarked: "That's bout all I know; but +come back some time and maybe I'll think of something else." + + + + +MRS. EMMALINE HEARD + +[TR: This interview, which was attached to the interview with Mrs. +Celestia Avery, is also included in the second volume of the Georgia +Narratives.] + + +On December 3 and 4, 1936, Mrs. Emmaline Heard was interviewed at her +home, 239 Cain Street. The writer had visited Mrs. Heard previously, and +it was at her own request that another visit was made. This visit was +supposed to be one to obtain information and stories on the practice of +conjure. On two previous occasions Mrs. Heard's stories had proved very +interesting, and I knew as I sat there waiting for her to begin that she +had something very good to tell me. She began: + +"Chile, this story wuz told ter me by my father and I know he sho +wouldn't lie. Every word of it is the trufe; fact, everything I ebber +told you wuz the trufe. Now, my pa had a brother, old Uncle Martin, and +his wife wuz name Julianne. Aunt Julianne used ter have spells and fight +and kick all the time. They had doctor after doctor but none did her any +good. Somebody told Uncle Martin to go ter a old conjurer and let the +doctors go cause they wan't doing nothing fer her anyway. Sho nuff he +got one ter come see her and give her some medicine. This old man said +she had bugs in her head, and after giving her the medicine he started +rubbing her head. While he rubbed her head he said: 'Dar's a bug in her +head; it looks jest like a big black roach. Now, he's coming out of her +head through her ear; whatever you do, don't let him get away cause I +want him. Whatever you do, catch him; he's going ter run, but when he +hits the pillow, grab 'em. I'm go take him and turn it back on the one +who is trying ter send you ter the grave.' Sho nuff that bug drap out +her ear and flew; she hollered, and old Uncle Martin ran in the room, +snatched the bed clothes off but they never did find him. Aunt Julianne +never did get better and soon she died. The conjurer said if they had a +caught the bug she would a lived." + +The next story is a true story. The facts as told by Mrs. Heard were +also witnessed by her; as it deals with the conjuring of one of her +sons. It is related in her exact words as nearly as possible. + +"I got a son named Albert Heard. He is living and well; but chile, there +wuz a time when he wuz almost ter his grave. I wuz living in town then, +and Albert and his wife wuz living in the country with their two +chillun. Well, Albert got down sick and he would go ter doctors, and go +ter doctors, but they didn't do him any good. I wuz worried ter death +cause I had ter run backards and for'ards and it wuz a strain on me. He +wuz suffering with a knot on his right side and he couldn't even fasten +his shoes cause it pained him so, and it wuz so bad he couldn't even +button up his pants. A 'oman teached school out there by the name of +Mrs. Yancy; she's dead now but she lived right here on Randolph Street +years ago. Well, one day when I wuz leaving Albert's house I met her on +the way from her school. 'Good evening, Mrs. Heard,' she says. 'How is +Mr. Albert?' I don't hardly know, I says, cause he don't get no better. +She looked at me kinda funny and said, don't you believe he's hurt?' Yes +mam, I said, I sho do. 'Well,' says she, 'I been wanting to say +something to you concerning this but I didn't know how you would take +it. If I tell you somewhere ter go will you go, and tell them I sent +you?' Yes mam, I will do anything if Albert can get better. 'All right +then', she says. 'Catch the Federal Prison car and get off at Butler +St.' In them days that car came down Forrest Ave. 'When you get to +Butler St.', she says, 'walk up to Clifton St. and go to such and such a +number. Knock on the door and a 'oman by the name of Mrs. Hirshpath will +come ter the door. Fore she let you in she go ask who sent you there; +when you tell 'er, she'll let you in. Now lemme tell you she keeps two +quarts of whisky all the time and you have ter drink a little with her; +sides that she cusses nearly every word she speaks; but don't let that +scare you; she will sho get your son up if it kin be done.' Sho nuff +that old 'oman did jest lak Mrs. Yancy said she would do. She had a +harsh voice and she spoke right snappy. When she let me in she said, sit +down. You lak whisky?' I said, well, I take a little dram sometimes. +'Well, here take some of this', she said. I poured a little bit and +drank it kinda lak I wuz afraid. She cursed and said 'I ain't go conjure +you. Drink it.' She got the cards and told me to cut 'em, so I did. +Looking at the cards, she said: 'You lak ter wait too long; they got him +marching to the cemetery. The poor thing! I'll fix those devils. (A +profane word was used instead of devils). He got a knot on his side, +ain't he?' Yes, Mam, I said. That 'oman told me everything that was +wrong with Albert and zackly how he acted. All at once she said; 'If +them d----d things had hatched in him it would a been too late. If you +do zackly lak I tell you I'll get him up from there.' I sho will, I told +her. 'Well, there's a stable sets east of his house. His house got three +rooms and a path go straight to the stable. I see it there where he +hangs his harness. Yes, I see it all, the devils! Have you got any +money?' Yes, mam, a little, I said. 'All right then,' she said. 'Go to +the drug store and get 5¢ worth of blue stone; 5¢ wheat bran; and go ter +a fish market and ask 'em ter give you a little fish brine; then go in +the woods and get some poke-root berries. Now, there's two kinds of +poke-root berries, the red skin and the white skin berry. Put all this +in a pot, mix with it the guts from a green gourd and 9 parts of red +pepper. Make a poultice and put to his side on that knot. Now, listen, +your son will be afraid and think you are trying ter do something ter +him but be gentle and persuade him that its fer his good.' Child, he sho +did act funny when I told him I wanted to treat his side. I had ter tell +him I wuz carrying out doctors orders so he could get well. He reared +and fussed and said he didn't want that mess on him. I told him the +doctor says you do very well till you go ter the horse lot then you go +blind and you can't see. He looked at me. 'Sho nuff, Ma, he said, 'that +sho is the trufe. I have ter always call one of the chillun when I go +there cause I can't see how ter get back ter the house.' Well, that +convinced him and he let me fix the medicine for him. I put him ter bed +and made the poultice, then I put it ter his side. Now this 'oman said +no one wuz ter take it off the next morning but me. I wuz suppose ter +fix three, one each night, and after taking each one off ter bury it lak +dead folks is buried, east and west, and ter make a real grave out of +each one. Well, when I told him not ter move it the next morning, but +let me move it, he got funny again and wanted to know why. Do you know I +had ter play lak I could move it without messing up my bed clothes and +if he moved it he might waste it all. Finally he said he would call me +the next morning. Sho nuff, the next morning he called me, ma! ma! come +take it off. I went in the room and he wuz smiling. I slept all night +long he said, and I feel so much better. I'm so glad, I said, and do you +know he could reach down and fasten up his shoe and it had been a long +time since he could do that. Later that day I slipped out and made my +first grave under the fig bush in the garden. I even put up head boards, +too. That night Albert said, 'Mama, fix another one. I feel so much +better.' I sho will, I said. Thank God you're better; so fer three +nights I fixed poultices and put ter his side and each morning he would +tell me how much better he felt. Then the last morning I wuz fixing +breakfast and he sat in the next room. After while Albert jumped up and +hollered, Ma! Ma!' What is it,' I said. 'Mama, that knot is gone. It +dropped down in my pants.' What! I cried. Where is it? Chile, we looked +but we didn't find anything, but the knot had sho gone. Der 'oman had +told me ter come back when the knot moved and she would tell me what +else ter do. That same day I went ter see her and when I told her she +just shouted, 'I fixed 'em, The devils! Now, says she, do you [TR: +know?] where you can get a few leaves off a yellow peachtree. It must be +a yellow peach tree, though. Yes, mam, I says to her. I have a yellow +peachtree right there in my yard. Well, she says, get a handful of +leaves, then take a knife and scrape the bark up, then make a tea and +give him so it will heal up the poison from that knot in his side, also +mix a few jimson weeds with it. I come home and told him I wanted ter +give him a tea. He got scared and said, what fer, Ma? I had ter tell him +I wuz still carrying out the doctor's orders. Well, he let me give him +the tea and that boy got well. I went back to Mrs. Hirshpath and told +her my son was well and I wanted to pay her. Go on, she said, keep the +dollar and send your chillun ter school. This sho happened ter me and I +know people kin fix you. Yes sir." + +The next story was told to Mrs. Heard by Mrs. Hirshpath, the woman who +cured her son. + +I used to go see that 'oman quite a bit and even sent some of my +friends ter her. One day while I wuz there she told me about this piece +of work she did. + +"There was a young man and his wife and they worked fer some white +folks. They had jest married and wuz trying ter save some money ter buy +a home with. All at onct the young man went blind and it almost run him +and his wife crazy cause they didn't know what in the world ter do. +Well, somebody told him and her about Mrs. Hirshpath, so they went ter +see her. One day, says Mrs. Hirshpath, a big fine carriage drew up in +front of her door and the coachman helped him to her door. She asked him +who sent him and he told her. She only charged 50¢ for giving advice and +after you wuz cured it wuz up ter you to give her what you wanted to. +Well, this man gave her 50¢ and she talked ter him. She says, boy, you +go home and don't you put that cap on no more. What cap? he says. That +cap you wears ter clean up the stables with, cause somebody done dressed +that cap fer you, and every time you perspire and it run down ter your +eyes it makes you blind. You jest get that cap and bring it ter me. I'll +fix 'em; they's trying ter make you blind, but I go let you see. The boy +was overjoyed, and sho nuff he went back and brought her that cap, and +it wuzn't long fore he could see good as you and me. He brought that +'oman $50, but she wouldn't take but $25 and give the other $25 back ter +him. + +"What I done told you is the trufe, every word of it; I know some other +things that happened but you come back anudder day fer that." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +GEORGIA BAKER, Age 87 +369 Meigs Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +Dist. Supvr. +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + +August 4, 1938 + + +Georgia's address proved to be the home of her daughter, Ida Baker. The +clean-swept walks of the small yard were brightened by borders of gay +colored zinnias and marigolds in front of the drab looking two-story, +frame house. "Come in," answered Ida, in response to a knock at the +front door. "Yessum, Mammy's here. Go right in dat dere room and you'll +find her." + +Standing by the fireplace of the next room was a thin, very black woman +engaged in lighting her pipe. A green checked gingham apron partially +covered her faded blue frock over which she wore a black shirtwaist +fastened together with "safety first" pins. A white cloth, tied turban +fashion about her head, and gray cotton hose worn with black and white +slippers that were run down at the heels, completed her costume. + +"Good mornin'. Yessum, dis here's Georgia," was her greeting. "Let's go +in dar whar Ida is so us can set down. I don't know what you come for, +but I guess I'll soon find out." + +Georgia was eager to talk but her articulation had been impaired by a +paralytic stroke and at times it was difficult to understand her jumble +of words. After observance of the amenities; comments on the weather, +health and such subjects, she began: + +"Whar was I born? Why I was born on de plantation of a great man. It was +Marse Alec Stephens' plantation 'bout a mile and a half from +Crawfordville, in Taliaferro County. Mary and Grandison Tilly was my Ma +and Pa. Ma was cook up at de big house and she died when I was jus' a +little gal. Pa was a field hand, and he belonged to Marse Britt Tilly. + +"Dere was four of us chillun: me, and Mary, and Frances, and Mack," she +counted on the fingers of one hand. "Marse Alec let Marse Jim Johnson +have Mack for his bodyguard. Frances, she wuked in de field, and Mary +was de baby--she was too little to wuk. Me, I was 14 years old when de +war was over. I swept yards, toted water to de field, and played 'round +de house and yard wid de rest of de chillun. + +"De long, log houses what us lived in was called "shotgun" houses 'cause +dey had three rooms, one behind de other in a row lak de barrel of a +shotgun. All de chillun slept in one end room and de grown folkses slept +in de other end room. De kitchen whar us cooked and et was de middle +room. Beds was made out of pine poles put together wid cords. Dem +wheat-straw mattresses was for grown folkses mostly 'cause nigh all de +chillun slept on pallets. How-some-ever, dere was some few slave chillun +what had beds to sleep on. Pillows! Dem days us never knowed what +pillows was. Gals slept on one side of de room and boys on de other in +de chilluns room. Uncle Jim, he was de bed-maker, and he made up a heap +of little beds lak what dey calls cots now. + +"Becky and Stafford Stephens was my Grandma and Grandpa. Marse Alec +bought 'em in Old Virginny. I don't know what my Grandma done 'cause she +died 'fore I was borned, but I 'members Grandpa Stafford well enough. I +can see him now. He was a old man what slept on a trundle bed in the +kitchen, and all he done was to set by de fire all day wid a switch in +his hand and tend de chillun whilst dere mammies was at wuk. Chillun +minded better dem days dan dey does now. Grandpa Stafford never had to +holler at 'em but one time. Dey knowed dey would git de switch next if +dey didn't behave. + +"Now dere you is axin' 'bout dat somepin' t'eat us had dem days! Ida, +ain't dere a piece of watermelon in de ice box?" Georgia lifted the lid +of a small ice box, got out a piece of melon, and began to smack her +thick lips as she devoured it with an air of ineffable satisfaction. +When she had tilted the rind to swallow the last drop of pink juice, she +indicated that she was fortified and ready to exercise her now well +lubricated throat, by resuming her story: + +"Oh, yessum! Marse Alec, had plenty for his slaves to eat. Dere was +meat, bread, collard greens, snap beans, 'taters, peas, all sorts of +dried fruit, and just lots of milk and butter. Marse Alec had 12 cows +and dat's whar I learned to love milk so good. De same Uncle Jim what +made our beds made our wooden bowls what dey kept filled wid bread and +milk for de chillun all day. You might want to call dat place whar Marse +Alec had our veg'tables raised a gyarden, but it looked more lak a big +field to me, it was so big. You jus' ought to have seed dat dere +fireplace whar dey cooked all us had to eat. It was one sho 'nough big +somepin, all full of pots, skillets, and ovens. Dey warn't never 'lowed +to git full of smut neither. Dey had to be cleant and shined up atter +evvy meal, and dey sho was pretty hangin' dar in dat big old fireplace. + +"George and Mack was de hunters. When dey went huntin' dey brought back +jus' evvything: possums, rabbits, coons, squirrels, birds, and wild +turkeys. Yessum, wild turkeys is some sort of birds I reckon, but when +us talked about birds to eat us meant part'idges. Some folkses calls 'em +quails. De fishes us had in summertime was a sight to see. Us sho et +good dem days. Now us jus' eats what-some-ever us can git. + +"Summertime us jus' wore what us wanted to. Dresses was made wid full +skirts gathered on to tight fittin' waisties. Winter clothes was good +and warm; dresses made of yarn cloth made up jus' lak dem summertime +clothes, and petticoats and draw's made out of osnaburg. Chillun what +was big enough done de spinnin' and Aunt Betsey and Aunt Tinny, dey wove +most evvy night 'til dey rung de bell at 10:00 o'clock for us to go to +bed. Us made bolts and bolts of cloth evvy year. + +"Us went bar'foots in summer, but bless your sweet life us had good +shoes in winter and wore good stockin's too. It tuk three shoemakers for +our plantation. Dey was Uncle Isom, Uncle Jim, and Uncle Stafford. Dey +made up hole-stock shoes for de 'omans and gals and brass-toed brogans +for de mens and boys. + +"Us had pretty white dresses for Sunday. Marse Alec wanted evvybody on +his place dressed up dat day. He sont his houseboy, Uncle Harris, down +to de cabins evvy Sunday mornin' to tell evvy slave to clean hisself up. +Dey warn't never give no chance to forgit. Dere was a big old room sot +aside for a wash-room. Folkses laughs at me now 'cause I ain't never +stopped takin' a bath evvy Sunday mornin'. + +"Marse Lordnorth Stephens was de boss on Marse Alec's plantation. Course +Marse Alec owned us and he was our sho 'nough Marster. Neither one of +'em ever married. Marse Lordnorth was a good man, but he didn't have no +use for 'omans--he was a sissy. Dere warn't no Marster no whar no better +dan our Marse Alec Stephens, but he never stayed home enough to tend to +things hisself much 'cause he was all de time too busy on de outside. He +was de President or somepin of our side durin' de war. + +"Uncle Pierce went wid Marse Alec evvy whar he went. His dog, Rio, had +more sense dan most folkses. Marse Alec, he was all de time havin' big +mens visit him up at de big house. One time, out in de yard, him and one +of dem 'portant mens got in a argyment 'bout somepin. Us chillun snuck +up close to hear what dey was makin' such a rukus 'bout. I heared Marse +Alec say: 'I got more sense in my big toe dan you is got in your whole +body.' And he was right--he did have more sense dan most folkses. Ain't +I been a-tellin' you he was de President or somepin lak dat, dem days? + +"Ma, she was Marse Alec's cook and looked atter de house. Atter she died +Marse Lordnorth got Mrs. Mary Berry from Habersham County to keep house +at de big house, but Aunt 'Liza, she done de cookin' atter Miss Mary got +dar. Us little Niggers sho' did love Miss Mary. Us called her "Mammy +Mary" sometimes. Miss Mary had three sons and one of 'em was named Jeff +Davis. I 'members when dey come and got him and tuk him off to war. +Marse Lordnorth built a four-room house on de plantation for Miss Mary +and her boys. Evvybody loved our Miss Mary, 'cause she was so good and +sweet, and dere warn't nothin' us wouldn't have done for her. + +"No Lord! Marse Lordnorth never needed no overseer or no carriage driver +neither. Uncle Jim was de head man wat got de Niggers up evvy mornin' +and started 'em off to wuk right. De big house sho was a pretty place, +a-settin' up on a high hill. De squirrels was so tame dar dey jus' +played all 'round de yard. Marse Alec's dog is buried in dat yard. + +"No Mam, I never knowed how many acres dere was in de plantation us +lived on, and Marse Alec had other places too. He had land scattered +evvywhar. Lord, dere was a heap of Niggers on dat place, and all of us +was kin to one another. Grandma Becky and Grandpa Stafford was de fust +slaves Marse Alec ever had, and dey sho had a passel of chillun. One +thing sho Marse Lordnorth wouldn't keep no bright colored Nigger on dat +plantation if he could help it. Aunt Mary was a bright colored Nigger +and dey said dat Marse John, Marse Lordnorth's brother, was her Pa, but +anyhow Marse Lordnorth never had no use for her 'cause she was a bright +colored Nigger. + +"Marse Lordnorth never had no certain early time for his slaves to git +up nor no special late time for 'em to quit wuk. De hours dey wuked was +'cordin' to how much wuk was ahead to be done. Folks in Crawfordville +called us 'Stephens' Free Niggers.' + +"Us minded Marse Lordnorth--us had to do dat--but he let us do pretty +much as us pleased. Us never had no sorry piece of a Marster. He was a +good man and he made a sho 'nough good Marster. I never seed no Nigger +git a beatin', and what's more I never heared of nothin' lak dat on our +place. Dere was a jail in Crawfordville, but none of us Niggers on Marse +Alec's place warn't never put in it. + +"No Lord! None of us Niggers never knowed nothin' 'bout readin' and +writin'. Dere warn't no school for Niggers den, and I ain't never been +to school a day in my life. Niggers was more skeered of newspapers dan +dey is of snakes now, and us never knowed what a Bible was dem days. + +"Niggers never had no churches of deir own den. Dey went to de white +folkses' churches and sot in de gallery. One Sunday when me and my +sister Frances went to church I found 50¢ in Confederate money and +showed it to her. She tuk it away from me. Dat's de onliest money I seed +durin' slavery time. Course you knows dey throwed Confederate money away +for trash atter de war was over. Den us young chaps used to play wid it. + +"I never went to no baptizin's nor no funerals neither den. Funerals +warn't de style. When a Nigger died dem days, dey jus' put his body in a +box and buried it. I 'members very well when Aunt Sallie and Aunt +Catherine died, but I was little den, and I didn't take it in what dey +done bout buryin' 'em. + +"None of Marse Alec's slaves never run away to de North, 'cause he was +so good to 'em dey never wanted to leave him. De onliest Nigger what +left Marse Alec's place was Uncle Dave, and he wouldn't have left 'cept +he got in trouble wid a white 'oman. You needn't ax me her name 'cause I +ain't gwine to tell it, but I knows it well as I does my own name. +Anyhow Marse Alec give Uncle Dave some money and told him to leave, and +nobody never seed him no more atter dat. + +"Oh yessum! Us heared 'bout 'em, but none of us never seed no +patterollers on Marse Alec's plantation. He never 'lowed 'em on his +land, and he let 'em know dat he kept his slaves supplied wid passes +whenever dey wanted to go places so as dey could come and go when dey +got good and ready. Thursday and Sadday nights was de main nights dey +went off. Uncle Stafford's wife was Miss Mary Stephen's cook, Uncle +Jim's wife lived on de Finley place, and Uncle Isom's belonged to de +Hollises, so dey had regular passes all de time and no patterollers +never bothered 'em none. + +"Whenever Marse Alec or Marse Lordnorth wanted to send a message dey +jus' put George or Mack on a horse and sont 'em on but one thing sho, +dere warn't no slave knowed what was in dem letters. + +"Marse Alec sho had plenty of mules. Some of 'em was named: Pete, Clay, +Rollin, Jack, and Sal. Sal was Allen's slow mule, and he set a heap of +store by her. Dere was a heap more mules on dat place, but I can't call +back dere names right now. + +"Most times when slaves went to deir quarters at night, mens rested, but +sometimes dey holped de 'omans cyard de cotton and wool. Young folkses +frolicked, sung songs, and visited from cabin to cabin. When dey got +behind wid de field wuk, sometimes slaves wuked atter dinner Saddays, +but dat warn't often. But, Oh, dem Sadday nights! Dat was when slaves +got together and danced. George, he blowed de quills, and he sho could +blow grand dance music on 'em. Dem Niggers would jus' dance down. Dere +warn't no foolishment 'lowed atter 10:00 o'clock no night. Sundays dey +went to church and visited 'round, but folks didn't spend as much time +gaddin' 'bout lak dey does now days. + +"Christmas Day! Oh, what a time us Niggers did have dat day! Marse +Lordnorth and Marse Alec give us evvything you could name to eat: cake +of all kinds, fresh meat, lightbread, turkeys, chickens, ducks, geese, +and all kinds of wild game. Dere was allus plenty of pecans, apples, and +dried peaches too at Christmas. Marse Alec had some trees what had fruit +dat looked lak bananas on 'em, but I done forgot what was de name of dem +trees. Marse Alec would call de grown folkses to de big house early in +de mornin' and pass 'round a big pewter pitcher full of whiskey, den he +would put a little whiskey in dat same pitcher and fill it wid sweetened +water and give dat to us chillun. Us called dat 'toddy' or 'dram'. Marse +Alex allus had plenty of good whiskey, 'cause Uncle Willis made it up +for him and it was made jus' right. De night atter Christmas Day us +pulled syrup candy, drunk more liquor, and danced. Us had a big time for +a whole week and den on New Year's Day us done a little wuk jus' to +start de year right and us feasted dat day on fresh meat, plenty of +cake, and whiskey. Dere was allus a big pile of ash-roasted 'taters on +hand to go wid dat good old baked meat. Us allus tried to raise enough +'taters to last all through de winter 'cause Niggers sho does love dem +sweet 'taters. No Mam, us never knowed nothin' 'bout Santa Claus 'til +atter de war. + +"No Mam, dere warn't no special cornshuckin's and cotton pickin's on +Marse Alec's place, but of course dey did quilt in de winter 'cause dere +had to be lots of quiltin' done for all dem slaves to have plenty of +warm kivver, and you knows, Lady, 'omens can quilt better if dey gits a +passel of 'em together to do it. Marse Alec and Marse Lordnorth never +'lowed dere slaves to mix up wid other folkses business much. + +"Oh Lord! Us never played no games in slavery times, 'cept jus' to run +around in a ring and pat our hands. I never sung no songs 'cause I +warn't no singer, and don't talk 'bout no Raw Head and Bloody Bones or +nothin' lak dat. Dey used to skeer us chillun so bad 'bout dem sort of +things dat us used to lay in bed at night a-shakin' lak us was havin' +chills. I've seed plenty of ha'nts right here in Athens. Not long atter +I had left Crawfordville and moved to Athens, I had been in bed jus' a +little while one night, and was jus' dozin' off to sleep when I woke up +and sot right spang up in bed. I seed a white man, dressed in white, +standin' before me. I sho didn't say nothin' to him for I was too +skeered. De very last time I went to a dance, somepin got atter me and +skeered me so my hair riz up 'til I couldn't git my hat on my haid, and +dat cyored me of gwine to dances. I ain't never been to no more sich +doin's. + +"Old Marster was powerful good to his Niggers when dey got sick. He had +'em seed atter soon as it was 'ported to him dat dey was ailin'. Yessum, +dere warn't nothin' short 'bout our good Marsters, 'deed dere warn't! +Grandpa Stafford had a sore laig and Marse Lordnorth looked atter him +and had Uncle Jim dress dat pore old sore laig evvy day. Slaves didn't +git sick as often as Niggers does now days. Mammy Mary had all sorts of +teas made up for us, 'cordin' to whatever ailment us had. Boneset tea +was for colds. De fust thing dey allus done for sore throat was give us +tea made of red oak bark wid alum. Scurvy grass tea cleant us out in the +springtime, and dey made us wear little sacks of assfiddy (asafetida) +'round our necks to keep off lots of sorts of miseries. Some folkses +hung de left hind foot of a mole on a string 'round deir babies necks to +make 'em teethe easier. I never done nothin' lak dat to my babies 'cause +I never believed in no such foolishment. Some babies is jus' natchelly +gwine to teethe easier dan others anyhow. + +"I 'members jus' as good as if it was yesterday what Mammy Mary said +when she told us de fust news of freedom. 'You all is free now,' she +said. 'You don't none of you belong to Mister Lordnorth nor Mister Alec +no more, but I does hope you will all stay on wid 'em, 'cause dey will +allus be jus' as good to you as dey has done been in de past.' Me, I +warn't even studyin' nothin' 'bout leavin' Marse Alec, but Sarah Ann and +Aunt Mary, dey threwed down deir hoes and jus' whooped and hollered +'cause dey was so glad. When dem Yankees come to our place Mammy Mary +axed 'em if dey warn't tired of war. 'What does you know 'bout no war?' +Dey axed her right back. 'No, us won't never git tired of doin' good.' + +"I stayed on wid my two good Marsters 'til most 3 years atter de war, +and den went to wuk for Marse Tye Elder in Crawfordville. Atter dat I +wuked for Miss Puss King, and when she left Crawfordville I come on here +to Athens and wuked for Miss Tildy Upson on Prince Avenue. Den I went to +Atlanta to wuk for Miss Ruth Evage (probably Elliott). Miss Ruth was a +niece of Abraham Lincoln's. Her father was President Lincoln's brother +and he was a Methodist preacher what lived in Mailpack, New York. I went +evvywhar wid Miss Ruth. When me and Miss Ruth was in Philadelphia, I got +sick and she sont me home to Athens and I done been here wid my daughter +ever since. + +"Lawdy, Miss! I ain't never been married, but I did live wid Major Baker +18 years and us had five chillun. Dey is all daid but two. Niggers +didn't pay so much 'tention to gittin' married dem days as dey does now. +I stays here wid my gal, Ida Baker. My son lives in Cleveland, Ohio. My +fust child was borned when I warn't but 14 years old. De war ended in +April and she was borned in November of dat year. Now, Miss! I ain't +never told but one white 'oman who her Pa was, so you needn't start +axin' me nothin' 'bout dat. She had done been walkin' evvywhar 'fore she +died when she was jus' 10 months old and I'm a-tellin' you de truth +when I say she had more sense dan a heap of white chillun has when dey +is lots older dan she was. Whilst I was off in New York wid Miss Ruth, +Major, he up and got married. I reckon he's daid by now. I don't keer +nohow, atter de way he done me. I made a good livin' for Major 'til he +married again. I seed de 'oman he married once. + +"Yes Mam," there was strong emphasis in this reply. "I sho would ruther +have slavery days back if I could have my same good Marsters 'cause I +never had no hard times den lak I went through atter dey give us +freedom. I ain't never got over not bein' able to see Marse Alec no +more. I was livin' at Marse Tye Elder's when de gate fell on Marse Alec, +and he was crippled and lamed up from dat time on 'til he died. He got +to be Governor of Georgia whilst he was crippled. When he got hurt by +dat gate, smallpox was evvywhar and dey wouldn't let me go to see 'bout +him. Dat most killed me 'cause I did want to go see if dere was somepin' +I could do for him. + +"Lordy Mussy, Miss! I had a time jinin' up wid de church. I was in +Mailpack, New York, wid Miss Ruth when I had de urge to jine up. I told +Miss Ruth 'bout it and she said: 'Dere ain't no Baptist church in 10 +miles of here.' 'Lord, have mussy!' I said. 'Miss Ruth, what I gwine do? +Dese is all Methodist churches up here and I jus' can't jine up wid no +Methodists.' 'Yes you can,' she snapped at me, 'cause my own Pa's +a-holdin a 'vival in dis very town and de Methodist church is de best +anyhow.' Well, I went on and jined de Reverend Lincoln's Methodist +church, but I never felt right 'bout it. Den us went to Philadelphia and +soon as I could find a Baptist church dar, I jined up wid it. Northern +churches ain't lak our southern churches 'cause de black and white +folkses all belong to de same church dar and goes to church together. On +dat account I still didn't feel lak I had jined de church. Bless your +sweet life, Honey, when I come back to de South, I was quick as I could +be to jine up wid a good old southern Baptist church. I sho didn't mean +to live outdoors, 'specially atter I dies." Georgia's eyes sparkled and +her flow of speech was smooth as she told of her religious experiences. +When that subject was exhausted her eyes dimmed again and her speech +became less articulate. + +Georgia's reeking pipe had been laid aside for the watermelon and not +long after that was consumed the restless black fingers sought +occupation sewing gay pieces for a quilt. "Miss, I warn't born to be +lazy, I warn't raised dat way, and I sho ain't skeered to die. + +"Good-bye, Honey," said Georgia, as the interviewer arose and made her +way toward the street. "Hurry back and don't forgit to fetch me dat +purty pink dress you is a-wearin'. I don't lak white dresses and I ain't +never gwine to wear a black one nohow." + + +[TR: Return Visit] + +Georgia was on the back porch washing her face and hands and quarrelling +with Ida for not having her breakfast ready at nine-thirty when the +interviewer arrived for a re-visit. + +"Come in," Georgia invited, "and have a cheer. But, Miss I done told you +all I knows 'bout Marse Alec and dem deys when I lived on his +plantation. You know chillun den warn't 'lowed to hang 'round de grown +folks whar dey could hear things what was talked about." + +About this time Ida came down from a second-floor kitchen with her +mother's breakfast. She was grumbling a little louder on each step of +the rickety stairway. "Lord, have mussy! Ma is still a-talkin' 'bout dat +old slavery stuff, and it ain't nothin' nohow." After Ida's eyes had +rested on the yellow crepe frock just presented Georgia in appreciation +of the three hours she had given for the first interview, she became +reconciled for the story to be resumed, and even offered her assistance +in rousing the recollections of her parent. + +"Did I tell you" Georgia began, "dat de man what looked atter Marse +Alec's business was his fust cousin? He was de Marse Lordnorth I'se all +time talkin' 'bout, and Marse John was Marse Lordnorth's brother. Dere +warn't no cook or house gal up at de big house but Ma 'til atter she +died, and den when Miss Mary Berry tuk charge of de house dey made +Uncle Harry and his wife, Aunt 'Liza, house boy and cook. + +"Marse Alec growed all his corn on his Googer Crick plantation. He +planned for evvything us needed and dere warn't but mighty little dat he +didn't have raised to take keer of our needs. Lordy, didn't I tell you +what sort of shoes, holestock shoes is? Dem was de shoes de 'omans wore +and dey had extra pieces on de sides so us wouldn't knock holes in 'em +too quick. + +"De fust time I ever seed Marse Alec to know who he was, I warn't more'n +6 years old. Uncle Stafford had went fishin' and cotched de nicest mess +of fish you ever seed. He cleant 'em and put 'em in a pan of water, and +told me to take 'em up to de big house to Marse Alec. I was skeered when +I went in de big house yard and axed, what looked lak a little boy, whar +Marse Alec was, and I was wuss skeered when he said: 'Dis is Marse Alec +you is talkin' to. What you want?' I tole him Uncle Stafford sont him de +fishes and he told me: 'Take 'em to de kitchen and tell 'Liza to cook +'em for me.' I sho ain't never gwine to forgit dat. + +"One day dey sont me wid a bucket of water to de field, and I had to go +through de peach orchard. I et so many peaches, I was 'most daid when I +got back to de house. Dey had to drench me down wid sweet milk, and from +dat day to dis I ain't never laked peaches. From den on Marse Alec +called me de 'peach gal.' + +"Marse Alec warn't home much of de time, but when he was dar he used to +walk down to de cabins and laugh and talk to his Niggers. He used to +sing a song for de slave chillun dat run somepin lak dis: + + 'Walk light ladies + De cake's all dough, + You needn't mind de weather, + If de wind don't blow.'" + +Georgia giggled when she came to the end of the stanza. "Us didn't know +when he was a-singin' dat tune to us chillun dat when us growed up us +would be cake walkin' to de same song. + +"On Sundays, whenever Marse Alec was home, he done lots of readin' out +of a great big old book. I didn't know what it was, but he was pow'ful +busy wid it. He never had no parties or dancin' dat I knows 'bout, but +he was all time havin' dem big 'portant mens at his house talkin' 'bout +de business what tuk him off from home so much. I used to see Lawyer +Coombs dere heaps of times. He was a big, fine lookin' man. Another big +lawyer was all time comin' dar too, but I done lost his name. Marse Alec +had so awful much sense in his haid dat folkses said it stunted his +growin'. Anyhow, long as he lived he warn't no bigger dan a boy. + +"When Uncle Harry's and Aunt 'Liza's daughter what was named 'Liza, got +married he was in Washin'ton or some place lak dat. He writ word to +Marse Linton, his half-brother, to pervide a weddin' for her. I knows +'bout dat 'cause I et some of dat barbecue. Dat's all I 'members 'bout +her weddin'. I done forgot de name of de bridegroom. He lived on some +other plantation. Aunt 'Liza had two gals and one boy. He was named +Allen. + +"Whilst Marse Alec was President or somepin, he got sick and had to come +back home, and it wern't long atter dat 'fore de surrender. Allen was +'pinted to watch for de blue coats. When dey come to take Marse Alec +off, dey was all over the place wid deir guns. Us Niggers hollered and +cried and tuk on pow'ful 'cause us sho thought dey was gwine to kill him +on account of his bein' such a high up man on de side what dey was +fightin'. All de Niggers followed 'em to de depot when dey tuk Marse +Alec and Uncle Pierce away. Dey kept Marse Alec in prison off somewhar a +long time but dey sont Pierce back home 'fore long. + +"I seed Jeff Davis when dey brung him through Crawfordville on de train. +Dey had him all fastened up wid chains. Dey told me dat a Nigger 'oman +put pizen in Jeff Davis' somepin t'eat and dat was what kilt him. One +thing sho, our Marse Alec warn't pizened by nobody. He was comin' from +de field one day when a big old heavy gate fell down on him, and even if +he did live a long time atterwards dat was what was de cause of his +death. + +"I seed Uncle Pierce 'fore he died and us sot and talked and cried 'bout +Marse Alec. Yessum, us sho did have de best Marster in de world. If +ever a man went to Heaven, Marse Alec did. I sho does wish our good old +Marster was livin' now. Now, Miss, I done told you all I can ricollec' +'bout dem days. I thanks you a lot for dat purty yaller dress, and I +hopes you comes back to see me again sometime." + + + + +ALICE BATTLE, EX-SLAVE +Hawkinsville, Georgia + +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson--1936) +[JUL 20, 1937] + + +During the 1840's, Emanuel Caldwell--born in North Carolina, and Neal +Anne Caldwell--born in South Carolina, were brought to Macon by +"speculators" and sold to Mr. Ed Marshal of Bibb County. Some time +thereafter, this couple married on Mr. Marshal's plantation, and their +second child, born about 1850, was Alice Battle. From her birth until +freedom, Alice was a chattel of this Mr. Marshal, whom she refers to as +a humane man, though inclined to use the whip when occasion demanded. + +Followed to its conclusion, Alice's life history is void of thrills and +simply an average ex-slave's story. As a slave, she was well fed, well +clothed, and well treated, as were her brother and sister slaves. Her +mother was a weaver, her father--a field hand, and she did both +housework and plantation labor. + +Alice saw the Yankee pass her ex-master's home with their famous +prisoner, Jeff Davis, after his capture, in '65. The Yankee band, says +she, was playing "We'll hang Jeff Davis on a Sour Apple Tree". Some of +the soldiers "took time out" to rob the Marshal smokehouse. The Whites +and Negroes were all badly frightened, but the "damyankees didn't harm +nobody". + +After freedom, Alice remained with the Marshals until Christmas, when +she moved away. Later, she and her family moved back to the Marshal +plantation for a few years. A few years still later, Alice married a +Battle "Nigger". + +Since the early '70's, Alice has "drifted around" quite a bit. She and +her husband are now too old and feeble to work. They live with one of +their sons, and are objects of charity. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +JASPER BATTLE, Age 80 +112 Berry St., +Athens, Ga. + +Written by: +Grace McCune [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +The shade of the large water oaks in Jasper's yard was a welcome sight +when the interviewer completed the long walk to the old Negro's place in +the sweltering heat of a sunny July afternoon. The old house appeared to +be in good condition and the yard was clean and tidy. Jasper's wife, +Lula, came around the side of the house in answer to the call for +Jasper. A large checked apron almost covered her blue dress and a clean +white headcloth concealed her hair. Despite her advanced age, she seemed +to be quite spry. + +"Jus' come back here whar I'se a-doin' de white folks' washin'," she +said. "Jasper's done been powerful sick and I can't leave him by hisself +none. I brung him out here in de shade so I could watch him and 'tend to +him whilst I wuks. Jasper stepped on a old plank what had two rusty +nails in it, and both of 'em went up in his foot a fur ways. I done driv +dem nails plumb up to dey haids in de north side of a tree and put +jimpson weed poultices on Jasper's foot, but it's still powerful bad +off." + +By this time we had arrived within sight and earshot of the old rocking +chair where Jasper sat with his foot propped high in another chair. His +chair had long ago been deprived of its rockers. The injured member +appeared to be swollen and was covered with several layers of the +jimpson weed leaves. The old man's thin form was clothed in a faded blue +shirt and old gray cotton trousers. His clothes were clean and his +white hair was in marked contrast to his shining but wrinkled black +face. He smiled when Lula explained the nature of the proposed +interview. "'Scuse me, Missy," he apologized, "for not gittin' up, +'cause I jus' can't use dis old foot much, but you jus' have a seat here +in de shade and rest yourself." Lula now excused herself, saying: "I +jus' got to hurry and git de white folks' clothes washed and dried 'fore +it rains," and she resumed her work in the shade of another huge tree +where a fire was burning brightly under her washpot and a row of +sud-filled tubs occupied a long bench. + +"Lula, she has to wuk all de time," Jasper explained, "and she don't +never have time to listen to me talk. I'se powerful glad somebody is +willin' to stop long enough to pay some heed whilst I talks 'bout +somepin. Dem days 'fore de war was good old days, 'specially for de +colored folks. I know, 'cause my Mammy done told me so. You see I was +mighty little and young when de war was over, but I heared de old folks +do lots of talkin' 'bout dem times whilst I was a-growin' up, and den +too, I stayed right dar on dat same place 'til I was 'bout grown. It was +Marse Henry Jones' plantation 'way off down in Taliaferro County, nigh +Crawfordville, Georgy. Mammy b'longed to Marse Henry. She was Harriet +Jones. Daddy was Simon Battle and his owner was Marse Billie Battle. De +Battle's plantation was off down dar nigh de Jones' place. When my Mammy +and Daddy got married Marse Henry wouldn't sell Mammy, and Marse Billie +wouldn't sell Daddy, so dey didn't git to see one another but twice a +week--dat was on Wednesday and Sadday nights--'til atter de war was done +over. I kin still 'member Daddy comin' over to Marse Henry's plantation +to see us. + +"Marse Henry kept a lot of slaves to wuk his big old plantation whar he +growed jus' evvything us needed to eat and wear 'cept sugar and coffee +and de brass toes for our home-made, brogan shoes. Dere allus was +a-plenty t'eat and wear on dat place. + +"Slave quarters was log cabins built in long rows. Some had chimblies in +de middle, twixt two rooms, but de most of 'em was jus' one-room cabins +wid a stick and mud chimbly at de end. Dem chimblies was awful bad 'bout +ketchin' on fire. Didn't nobody have no glass windows. Dey jus' had +plain plank shutters for blinds and de doors was made de same way, out +of rough planks. All de beds was home-made and de best of 'em was +corded. Dey made holes in de sides and foots and haidpieces, and run +heavy home-made cords in dem holes. Dey wove 'em crossways in and out of +dem holes from one side to another 'til dey had 'em ready to lay de +mattress mat on. I'se helped to pull dem cords tight many a time. Our +mattress ticks was made of homespun cloth and was stuffed wid wheat +straw. 'Fore de mattress tick was put on de bed a stiff mat wove out of +white oak splits was laid on top of de cords to pertect de mattress and +make it lay smooth. Us was 'lowed to pick up all de old dirty cotton +'round de place to make our pillows out of. + +"Jus' a few of de slave famblies was 'lowed to do deir own cookin' +'cause Marster kept cooks up at de big house what never had nothin' else +to do but cook for de white folks and slaves. De big old fireplace in +dat kitchen at de big house was more dan eight feet wide and you could +pile whole sticks of cord-wood on it. It had racks acrost to hang de +pots on and big ovens and little ovens and big, thick, iron fryin' pans +wid long handles and hefty iron lids. Dey could cook for a hunderd +people at one time in dat big old kitchen easy. At one time dere was +tables acrost one end of de kitchen for de slaves t'eat at, and de slave +chillun et dar too. + +"Marster was mighty good to slave chillun. He never sont us out to wuk +in de fields 'til us was 'most growed-up, say 12 or 14 years old. A +Nigger 12 or 14 years old dem days was big as a white child 17 or 18 +years old. Why Miss, Niggers growed so fast, dat most of de Nigger +nurses warn't no older dan de white chillun dey tuk keer of. Marster +said he warn't gwine to send no babies to de fields. When slave chillun +got to be 'bout 9 or 10 years old dey started 'em to fetchin' in wood +and water, cleanin' de yards, and drivin' up de cows at night. De +bigges' boys was 'lowed to measure out and fix de stock feed, but de +most of us chillun jus' played in de cricks and woods all de time. +Sometimes us played Injuns and made so much fuss dat old Aunt Nancy +would come out to de woods to see what was wrong, and den when she found +us was jus' a-havin' fun, she stropped us good for skeerin' her. + +"Mammy's job was to make all de cloth. Dat was what she done all de +time; jus' wove cloth. Some of de others cyarded de bats and spun +thread, but Mammy, she jus' wove on so reg'lar dat she made enough cloth +for clothes for all dem slaves on de plantation and, it's a fact, us did +have plenty of clothes. All de nigger babies wore dresses made jus' alak +for boys and gals. I was sho'ly mighty glad when dey 'lowed me to git +rid of dem dresses and wear shirts. I was 'bout 5 years old den, but dat +boys' shirt made me feel powerful mannish. Slave gals wore homespun +cotton dresses, and dey had plenty of dem dresses, so as dey could keep +nice and clean all de time. Dey knitted all de socks and stockin's for +winter. Dem gals wore shawls, and dere poke bonnets had ruffles 'round +'em. All de shoes was home-made too. Marster kept one man on de +plantation what didn't do nothin' but make shoes. Lordy, Missy! What +would gals say now if dey had to wear dem kind of clothes? Dey would +raise de roof plumb offen de house. But jus' let me tell you, a purty +young gal dressed in dem sort of clothes would look mighty sweet to me +right now. + +"Us never could eat all de meat in Marster's big old smokehouse. +Sometimes he tuk hams to de store and traded 'em for sugar and coffee. +Plenty of 'bacco was raised on dat plantation for all de white folks and +de growed-up Niggers. Slave chillun warn't sposen to have none, so us +had to swipe what 'bacco us got. If our Mammies found out 'bout us +gittin' 'bacco, dey stropped us 'til de skin was most off our backs, but +sometimes us got away wid a little. If us seed any of de old folks was +watchin' us, us slipped de 'bacco from one to another of us whilst dey +s'arched us, and it went mighty bad on us if dey found it. + +"Slaves went to de white folks' church and listened to de white +preachers. Dere warn't no colored preacher 'lowed to preach in dem +churches den. Dey preached to de white folks fust and den dey let de +colored folks come inside and hear some preachin' atter dey was through +wid de white folks. But on de big 'vival meetin' days dey 'lowed de +Niggers to come in and set in de gallery and listen at de same time dey +preached to de white folks. When de sermon was over dey had a big dinner +spread out on de grounds and dey had jus' evvything good t'eat lak +chickens, barbecued hogs and lambs, pies, and lots of watermelons. Us +kept de watermelons in de crick 'til dey was ready to cut 'em. A white +gentleman, what dey called Mr. Kilpatrick, done most of de preachin'. He +was from de White Plains neighborhood. He sho' did try mighty hard to +git evvybody to 'bey de Good Lord and keep his commandments. + +"Mr. Kilpatrick preached all de funerals too. It 'pears lak a heap more +folks is a-dyin' out dese days dan died den, and folks was a heap better +den to folks in trouble. Dey would go miles and miles den when dey +didn't have no auto'biles, to help folks what was in trouble. Now, dey +won't go next door when dere's death in de house. Den, when anybody died +de fust thing dey done was to shroud 'em and lay 'em out on de coolin' +board 'til Old Marster's cyarpenter could git de coffin made up. Dere +warn't no embalmers dem days and us had to bury folks de next day atter +dey died. De coffins was jus' de same for white folks and deir slaves. +On evvy plantation dere was a piece of ground fenced in for a graveyard +whar dey buried white folks and slaves too. My old Daddy is buried down +yonder on Marse Henry's plantation right now. + +"When a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal, he didn't ax de gal, +but he went and told Marster 'bout it. Marster would talk to de gal and +if she was willin', den Marster would tell all de other Niggers us was +a-goin' to have a weddin'. Dey would all come up to de big house and +Marster would tell de couple to jine hands and jump backwards over a +broomstick, and den he pernounced 'em man and wife. Dey didn't have to +have no licenses or nothin' lak dey does now. If a man married up wid +somebody on another place, he had to git a pass from his Marster, so as +he could go see his wife evvy Wednesday and Sadday nights. When de +patterollers cotched slaves out widout no passes, dey evermore did beat +'em up. Leastways dat's what Mammy told me. + +"Durin' de big war all de white folkses was off a-fightin' 'cept dem +what was too old to fight or what was too bad crippled and 'flicted. Dey +stayed home and looked atter de 'omans and chillun. Somebody sont +Mist'ess word dat dem yankees was on de way to our plantation and she +hid evvything she could, den had de hogs and hosses driv off to de +swamps and hid. Mammy was crazy 'bout a pet pig what Marster had done +give her, so Mist'ess told her to go on down to dat swamp quick, and +hide dat little pig. Jus' as she was a-runnin' back in de yard, dem +yankees rid in and she seed 'em a-laughin' fit to kill. She looked +'round to see what dey was tickled 'bout and dere followin' her lak a +baby was dat pig. Dem yankees was perlite lak, and dey never bothered +nothin' on our place, but dey jus' plumb ruint evvything on some of de +plantations right close to our'n. Dey tuk nigh evvything some of our +neighbors had t'eat, most all deir good hosses, and anything else dey +wanted. Us never did know why dey never bothered our white folkses' +things. + +"When dey give us our freedom us went right on over to Marse Billie +Battle's place and stayed dar wid Daddy 'bout a year; den Daddy come wid +us back to Marse Henry's, and dar us stayed 'til Old Marster died. Long +as he lived atter de war, he wukked most of his help on sheers, and seed +dat us was tuk keer of jus' lak he had done when us all b'longed to him. +Us never went to school much 'cause Mammy said white folks didn't lak +for Niggers to have no larnin', but atter de war was done over our Old +Mist'ess let colored chillun have some lessons in a little cabin what +was built in de back yard for de white chillun to go to school in. + +"Atter dey buried our Old Marster, us moved down to Hancock County and +farmed dar, 'cause dat was all us knowed how to do. Us got together and +raised money to buy ground enough for a churchyard and a graveyard for +colored folks. Dat graveyard filled up so fast dat dey had to buy more +land several times. Us holped 'em build de fust colored church in +Hancock County. + +"School for colored chillun was held den in our church house. Our +teacher was a white man, Mr. Tom Andrews, and he was a mighty good +teacher, but Lordy, how strick he was! Dese here chillun don't know +nothin' 'bout school. Us went early in de mornin', tuk our dinner in a +bucket, and never left 'til four o'clock, and sometimes dat was 'most +nigh sundown. All day us studied dat blue back speller, and dat white +teacher of ours sho' tuk de skin offen our backs if us didn't mind him. +Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' and foolin' 'round on de way home, +'cause dat white teacher 'lowed he had control of us 'til us got to our +Mammies' doors and if us didn't git for home in a hurry, it was jus' too +bad for us when he tuk it out on us next day wid dat long hick'ry +switch. + +"Things is sho' diffunt now. Folks ain't good now as dey was den, but +dere is gwine to be a change. I may not be here to see it, but it's +a-comin' 'cause de Good Lord is done 'sied (prophesied) it, and it's got +to be. God's sayin' is comin' to pass jus' as sho' as us is livin' and +settin' in de shade of dis here tree. + +"Lordy, Miss! How come you axes 'bout colored folks'es weddin's? I was +a-courtin' a little 14-year old gal named Lovie Williams, but her Mammy +runned me off and said she warn't gwine to let Lovie git married up wid +nobody 'til she got big enough. I jus' bought dem licenses and watched +for my chanct and den I stole dat gal right from under her Mammy's eyes. +My Mammy knowed all 'bout it and holped us git away. Us didn't have no +time for no weddin'. De best us could do was jus' to git ourselfs +married up. Lovie's Mammy raised de Old Ned, but us didn't keer den, +'cause it was too late for her to do nothin' to part us. Lovie was one +of the bestest gals what ever lived. Us raised 12 chillun and I never +had one speck of trouble wid her. Lovie's done been daid 15 years now." + +His voice trembled as he talked about his first wife, and Lula almost +stopped her work to listen. This kind of talk did not please her and her +expression grew stern. "You done talked a-plenty," she told him. "You +ain't strong 'nough to do no more talkin'," but Jasper was not willing +to be silenced. "I reckon I knows when I'se tired. I ain't gwine to hush +'til I gits good and ready," was his protest. "Yes Missy," he continued. +"All our chillun is done daid now 'cept four and dey is 'way off up +North. Ain't nobody left here 'cept me and Lula. Lula is pow'ful good to +me. I done got too old to wuk, and can't do nothin' nohow wid dis old +foot so bad off. I'se ready and even anxious to go when de Good Lord +calls for old Jasper to come to de Heav'nly Home. + +"I ain't heared nothin' from my only brother in over 7 years. I 'spose +he still lives in Crawfordville. Missy, I wishes I could go back down to +Crawfordville one more time. I kin jus' see our old homeplace on de +plantation down dar now. Lula a-washin' here, makes me study 'bout de +old washplace on Marse Henry's plantation. Dere was a long bench full of +old wood tubs, and a great big iron pot for bilin' de clothes, and de +batten block and stick. Chillun beat de clothes wid de batten stick and +kept up de fire 'round de pot whilst de 'omans leaned over de tubs +washin' and a-singin' dem old songs. You could hear 'em 'most a mile +away. Now and den one of de 'omans would stop singin' long enough to +yell at de chillun to 'git more wood on dat fire 'fore I lash de skin +offen your back.' + +"Oh Missy, dem was good old days. Us would be lucky to have 'em back +again, 'specially when harvest time comes 'round. You could hear Niggers +a-singin' in de fields 'cause dey didn't have no worries lak dey got +now. When us got de corn up from de fields, Niggers come from far and +nigh to Marster's cornshuckin'. Dat cornshuckin' wuk was easy wid +evvybody singin' and havin' a good time together whilst dey made dem +shucks fly. De cornshuckin' captain led all de singin' and he set right +up on top of de highes' pile of corn. De chillun was kept busy a-passin' +de liquor jug 'round. Atter it started gittin' dark, Marster had big +bonfires built up and plenty of torches set 'round so as dere would be +plenty of light. Atter dey et all dey wanted of dem good things what had +done been cooked up for de big supper, den de wrastlin' matches started, +and Marster allus give prizes to de best wrastlers. Dere warn't no +fussin' and fightin' 'lowed on our place, and dem wrastlin' matches was +all in good humor and was kept orderly. Marster wanted evvybody to be +friends on our plantation and to stay dat way, for says he: 'De Blessed +Saviour done said for us to love our neighbor as ourselfs, and to give +and what us gives is gwine to come back to us.' Missy, de Good Lord's +word is always right." + +The interviewer was preparing to leave when one of Jasper's old friends +approached the sheltering tree in the yard, where the interview was +drawing to a close. "Brudder Paul," said Jasper, "I wisht you had come +sooner 'cause Missy, here, and me is done had de bestes' time a-goin' +back over dem old times when folks loved one another better dan dey does +now. Good-bye Missy, you done been mighty kind and patient wid old +Jasper. Come back again some time." + + + + +[HW: Dist. -- +Ex-Slv. #10] + +ARRIE BINNS OF WASHINGTON-WILKES + +by +Minnie Branham Stonestreet +Washington-Wilkes +Georgia +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Arrie Binns lives in Baltimore, a negro suburb of Washington-Wilkes, in +a little old tumbled down kind of a cottage that used to be one of the +neatest and best houses of the settlement and where she has lived for +the past sixty-odd years. In the yard of her home is one of the most +beautiful holly trees to be found anywhere. She set it there herself +over fifty years ago. She recalled how her friends predicted bad luck +would befall her because she "sot out er holly", but not being in the +least bit superstitious she paid them "no mind" and has enjoyed her +beautiful tree all these years. Many lovely oaks are around her house; +she set them there long ago when she was young and with her husband +moved into their new home and wanted to make it as attractive as +possible. She is all alone now. Her husband died some years ago and +three of her four children have passed on. Her "preacher son" who was +her delight, died not very long ago. All this sorrow has left Aunt Arrie +old and sad; her face is no longer lighted by the smile it used to know. +She is a tiny little scrap of a woman with the softest voice and is as +neat as can be. She wears an oldfashioned apron all the time and in cool +weather there is always a little black cape around her frail shoulders +and held together with a plain old gold "breastpin". + +She was born in Lincoln County (Georgia), her mother was Emeline Sybert +and her father Jordan Sybert. They belonged to Mr. Jones Sybert and his +wife "Miss Peggy". After freedom they changed their surname to Gullatt +as they liked that better. Arrie was among the oldest of nine children. +The night she was born the stork brought a little baby girl to the home +of a white family just across the creek from the Syberts. The little +white girl was named Arine so "Miss Peggy" named the little new black +baby girl Arrie, and that is how it happened she was given such an odd +name. + +Arrie said she was "15 or 16 years old when the war broke (1865), I wuz +big enough to be lookin' at boys an' dey lookin' at me." She remembers +the days of war, how when the battle of Atlanta was raging they heard +the distant rumble of cannon, and how "upsot" they all were. Her master +died of "the consumption" during the war. She recalls how hard it was +after his death. The Syberts had no children and there was no one to +turn to after his death. Arrie tells of her Master's illness, how she +was the housemaid and was called upon to fan him and how she would get +so tired and sleepy she would nod a little, the fan dropping from hands +into his face. He would take it up and "crack my haid with the handle to +wake me up. I wuz allus so sorry when I done that, but I jest had ter +nod." + +She told about how bad the overseers were and the trouble they gave +until finally "old Miss turned off ther one she had an' put my Pa in his +place to manage things and look after the work." Arrie was never +punished, (not any more than having her head cracked by her Master when +she nodded while fanning him.) "No mam, not none of our niggers wuz +whipped. Why I recollect once, my brother wuz out without a pass an' de +patter rollers kotch him and brung him to old Miss and said he'd have +ter be whipped, old Miss got so mad she didn't know what ter do, she +said nobody wuz a goin' ter whip her niggers, but the patter roller men +'sisted so she said after er while, 'Well, but I'm goin' ter stan' right +here an' when I say stop, yer got ter stop', an' they 'greed to dat, an' +the third time dey hit him she raised her han' an' said 'STOP' an' dey +had ter let my brother go. My Miss wuz a big 'oman, she'd weigh nigh on +ter three hundred pound, I 'spect." + +After her master's death Arrie had to go into the field to work. She +recalled with a little chuckle, the old cream horse, "Toby" she use to +plow. She loved Toby, she said, and they did good work. When not plowing +she said she "picked er round in the fields" doing whatever she could. +She and the other slaves were not required to do very hard work. Her +mother was a field hand, but in the evenings she spun and wove down in +their cabin. Aunt Arrie added "an' I did love to hear that old spinnin' +wheel. It made a low kind of a whirring sound that made me sleepy." She +said her mother, with all the other negro women on the place, had "a +task of spinnin' a spool at night", and they spun and wove on rainy days +too. "Ma made our clothes an' we had pretty dresses too. She dyed some +blue and brown striped. We growed the indigo she used fer the blue, +right dar on the plantation, and she used bark and leaves to make the +tan and brown colors." + +Aunt Arrie said the Doctor was always called in when they were sick, +"but we never sont fer him lesse'n somebody wuz real sick. De old folks +doctored us jest fer little ailments. Dey give us lye tea fer colds. +(This was made by taking a few clean ashes from the fire place, putting +them in a little thin bag and pouring boiling water over them and let +set for a few minutes. This had to be given very weak or else it would +be harmful, Aunt Arrie explained.) Garlic and whiskey, and den, dar +ain't nothin' better fer the pneumony dan splinter tea. I've cured bad +cases with it." (That is made by pouring boiling water over lightwood +splinters.) + +Aunt Arrie told of their life on the plantation and it was not unlike +that of other slaves who had good masters who looked after them. They +had plenty to eat and to wear. Their food was given them and they cooked +and ate their meals in the cabins in family groups. Santa Claus always +found his way to the Quarters and brought them stick candy and other +things to eat. She said for their Christmas dinner there was always a +big fat hen and a hog head. + +In slavery days the negroes had quiltings, dances, picnics and everybody +had a good time, Aunt Arrie said, "an' I kin dance yit when I hears a +fiddle." They had their work to do in the week days, but when Sundays +came there was no work, everybody rested and on "preachin' days" went to +Church. Her father took them all to old Rehoboth, the neighborhood white +church, and they worshiped together, white and black, the negroes in +the gallery. That was back in the days when there was "no lookin' +neither to the right nor to the left" when in church; no matter what +happened, no one could even half way smile. This all was much harder +than having to listen to the long tiresome sermons of those days, Arrie +thinks, specially when she recalled on one occasion "when Mr. Sutton wuz +a preachin' a old goat [HW: got] up under the Church an' every time Mr. +Sutton would say something out real loud that old goat would go 'Bah-a-a +Bah ba-a-a' an' we couldn't laugh a bit. I most busted, I wanted ter +laugh so bad." + +"Yassum, in dem days" continued Aunt Arrie, "all us colored folks went +to the white folks church kase us didn't have no churches of our own and +day want no colored preachers den, but some what wuz called +"Chairbacks". The Chairback fellows went er round preachin' an' singin' +in the cabins down in the Quarters and dey use ter have the bes' +meetin's, folks would be converted an' change dey way. De hymns dey sung +de most wuz "Amazin' Grace" an' "Am I Born ter Die?" I 'members de +meetin's us use ter have down in our cabin an' how everybody would pray +an' sing." + +"Dey ain't nothin' lak it use ter be," sighed Aunt Arrie, "Now when I +first could recollect, when a nigger died they sot up with de corpse all +night and de next day had de funeral an' when dey started to the burial +ground with the body every body in the whole procession would sing +hymns. I've heard 'em 'nough times clear 'cross the fields, singin' and +moanin' as they went. Dem days of real feelin' an' keerin' is gone." + +When freedom came there were sad times on the Sybert plantation, Arrie +said. "Old Miss cried and cried, and all us cried too. Old Miss said +'You'al jest goin' off to perish.' Aunt Jennie, one of the oldest women +slaves stayed on with her and took keer of her, but all us stayed on a +while. Us didn't know whar to go an' what ter do, an' den come Dr. +Peters and Mr. Allen frum Arkansas to git han's to go out dar an' work +fer dem. My Pa took his family and we stayed two years. It took us might +nigh ar whole week to git dar, we went part way on de train and den rid +de steam boat up de Mississippi River ter de landin'. We worked in the +cotton field out dar and done all kinds er work on de farm, but us +didn't like an' Dr. Peters an' Mr. Allen give my Pa money fer us ter +come home on. 'Fore we could git started my oldest brother wanted to +come home so bad he jest pitched out and walked all de way frum Arkansas +to our old home in Georgy. We come back by Memphis and den come on home +on de train. When we wuz out dar I went to school an' got as far as +'Baker'. Dat's de only schoolin' I ever had." + +Aunt Arrie told about her courtship and marriage, she remembers all +about it and grew rather sentimental and sad while she talked. She said +that Franklin Binns was going with her before she went to live in +Arkansas and when she came home he picked up the courtship where he had +left off when she went away. He would ride 20 miles on horseback to see +her. He brought her candy and nice things to eat, but she still wouldn't +"give him no satisfaction 'bout whether she keered fer him er not." She +said other men wanted to come to see her, but she paid them not one bit +of attention. "No mam, I wouldn't 'cept of them, I never did go with in +an' everybody, I don't do dat yit." She said one day Franklin was to see +her and said "Less us marry, I think 'nough of you to marry." She said +she wouldn't tell him nothin' so he went to see her parents and they +agreed, so she married him sometime later. They were married by a white +minister, Mr. Joe Carter. + +Aunt Arrie leads a lonely life now. She grieves for her loved ones more +than negroes usually do. She doesn't get about much, but "I does go over +to see Sis Lou (a neighbor) every now an' den fer consolation." She says +she is living on borrowed time because she has always taken care of +herself and worked and been honest. She said that now she is almost at +the close of her life waiting day by day for the call to come, she is +glad she knew slavery, glad she was reared by good white people who +taught her the right way to live, and she added: "Mistess, I'se so glad +I allus worked hard an' been honest--hit has sho paid me time an' time +agin." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +ExSlv. #7 +Driskell] + +HENRY BLAND--EX-SLAVE +[MAY -- --] + + +Henry Bland is one of the few living ex-slaves who was born on a +plantation near Edenton, Ga., in 1851. His parents were Martha and Sam +Coxton. In this family group were three other children, two girls and +one boy, who was the oldest. When questioned regarding the birthplace +and the movements of his parents, Mr. Bland stated that his father was +born in Hancock County, Ga. His mother along with her mother was brought +to Georgia by the speculator with a drove of other slaves. The first +thing that he remembers of his parents is when he was quite small and +was allowed to remain in the Master's kitchen in the "big house" where +his mother was cook. + +Mr. Coxton, who was the owner of Mr. Bland and his family, was described +as being very rich and influential man in the community where he lived. +Says Mr. Bland, "His only fault was that of drinking too much of the +whisky that he distilled on the plantation." Unlike some of the other +slave owners in that section, Mr. Coxton was very kind to his slaves. +His plantation was a large one and on it was raised cotton, corn, +cane[TR:?], vegetables, and live stock. More cotton was grown than +anything else. + +From the time he was 1 year and 6 months of age until he was 9 years old +he lived in the "big house" with his mother. At night he slept on the +floor there. In spite of this, his and his mother's treatment was +considerably better than that received by those slaves who worked in the +fields. While their food consisted of the same things as did that of the +field slaves, sometimes choice morsels came back to the kitchen from the +Master's table. He says that his mother's clothes were of better quality +than the other slave women (those who were not employed in the house). + +As a child his first job was to cut wood for the stove, pick up chips, +and to drive the cows to and from the pasture. When 9 years old he was +sent to the field as a plow boy. Here he worked with a large number of +other slaves (he does not know the exact number) who were divided into +two groups, the plow group and the hoe group. His father happened to be +the foreman of the hoe gang. His brothers and sisters also worked here +in the fields being required to hoe as well as plow. When picking time +came, everyone was required to pick. The usual amount of cotton each +person was required to pick was 200 lbs. per day. However, when this +amount was not picked by some they were not punished by the overseer, as +was the case on neighboring plantations, because Mr. Coxton realized +that some could do more work than others. Mr. Coxton often told his +overseer that he had not been hired to whip the slaves, but to teach +them how to work. + +Says Mr. Bland: "Our working hours were the same as on any other +plantation. We had to get up every morning before sun-up and when it was +good and light we were in the field. A bugle was blown to wake us." All +the slaves stayed in the field until dark. After leaving the field they +were never required to do any work but could spend their time as they +saw fit to. No work was required on Saturday or Sunday with the +exception that the stock had to be cared for. Besides those days when no +work was required, there was the 4th of July and Christmas on which the +slaves were permitted to do as they pleased. These two latter dates were +usually spent in true holiday spirit as the master usually gave a big +feast in the form of a barbecue and allowed them to invite their +friends. + +When darkness came they sang and danced and this was what they called a +"frolic." As a general rule this same thing was permitted after the +crops had been gathered. Music for these occasions was furnished by +violin, banjo and a clapping of hands. Mr. Bland says that he used to +help furnish this music as Mr. Coxton had bought him a violin. + +On the Coxton plantation all slaves always had a sufficient amount of +clothing. These clothes which were issued when needed and not at any +certain time included articles for Sunday wear as well as articles for +work. Those servants who worked in the "big house" wore practically the +same clothes as the master and his wife with the possible exception that +it met the qualification of being second-handed. An issue of work +clothing included a heavy pair of work shoes called brogans, homespun +shirts and a pair of jeans pants. A pair of knitted socks was also +included The women wore homespun dresses for their working clothes. For +Sunday wear the men were given white cotton shirts and the women white +cotton dresses. All clothing was made on the plantation by those women +who were too old for field work. + +In the same manner that clothing was sufficient, so was food plentiful. +At the end of each week each family was given 4 lbs. of meat, 1 peck of +meal, and some syrup. Each person in a family was allowed to raise a +garden and so they had vegetables whenever they wished to. In addition +to this they were allowed to raise chickens, to hunt and to fish. +However, none of the food that was secured in any of the ways mentioned +above could be sold. When anyone wished to hunt, Mr. Coxton supplied the +gun and the shot. + +Although the slaves cooked for themselves, their breakfast and dinner +were usually sent to them in the fields after it had been prepared in +the cook house. The reason for this was that they had to get up too soon +in the morning, and at noon too much time would be lost if they were +permitted to go to their cabins for lunch. + +The children who were too young to work in the field were cared for by +some old slave who likewise was unable to do field work. The children +were usually fed pot liquor, corn bread, milk, syrup, and vegetables. +Each one had his individual cup to eat from. The food on Sunday was +usually no different from that of any other day of the week. However, +Mr. Bland says that they never had to break in the smokehouse because of +hunger. + +When asked to describe the living quarters of the slaves on his +plantation he looked around his room and muttered: "Dey wuz a lot better +than dis one." Some of the cabins were made of logs and some of +weatherboards. The chinks in the walls were sealed with mud. In some +instances boards were used on the inside to keep the weather out. There +were usually two windows, shutters being used in the place of window +panes. The chimney and fireplace were made of mud and stones. All +cooking was done at the fireplace as none of them were provided with +stoves. Iron cooking utensils were used. To boil food a pot was hung +over the fire by means of a hook. The remaining furniture was a bench +which served as a chair, and a crude bed. Rope running from side to side +served as bed springs. The mattress was made of straw or hay. For +lighting purposes, pine knots and candles were used. The slaves on the +Coxton plantation were also fortunate in that all cabins had good +floors. All cabins and their furnishings were built by the slaves who +learned the use of hammer and saw from white artisans whom Mr. Coxton +employed from time to time. Mr. Bland remarked that his father was a +blacksmith, having learned the trade in this manner. + +A doctor was employed regularly by Mr. Coxton to minister to the needs +of the slaves in time of illness. "We also had our own medicine," says +Mr. Bland. At different times excursions were made to the woods where +"yarbs" (herbs) were gathered. Various kinds of teas and medicines were +made by boiling these roots in water. The usual causes of illness on +this plantation were colds, fevers, and constipation. Castor oil and +salts were also used to a great extent. If an individual was too ill to +work an older slave had to nurse this person. + +No effort was made by Mr. Coxton to teach his slaves anything except +manual training. A slave who could use his hands at skilled work was +more valuable than the ordinary field hand. If, however, a slave secured +a book, Mr. Coxton would help him learn to read it. Above all, religious +training was not denied. As a matter of fact, Mr. Coxton required each +one of his servants to dress in his Sunday clothes and to go to church +every Sunday. Services for all were held at the white church--the slaves +sitting on one side and the masters on the other. All preaching was done +by a white pastor. + +No promiscuous relationships were allowed. If a man wanted to marry he +merely pointed out the woman of his choice to the master. He in turn +called her and told her that such and such an individual wished her for +a wife. If she agreed they were pronounced man and wife and were +permitted to live together. + +The slaves on his plantation were great believers in roots and their +values in the use of conjuring people. + +Mr. Bland doesn't remember ever seeing anyone sold by Mr. Coxton, but he +heard that on other nearby plantations slaves were placed on an auction +block and sold like cattle. + +None of the slaves were ever whipped or beaten by Mr. Coxton or by +anyone else. If a rule was broken the offender was called before Mr. +Coxton where he was talked to. In some cases a whipping was promised and +that ended the matter. The "Paddie Rollers" whipped the slaves from +other plantations when they were caught off of their premises without a +"pass" but this was never the case when a slave belonging to Mr. Coxton +broke this rule. Mr. Bland remembers that once he and some of his fellow +slaves were away from home without a pass when they were seen by the +"Paddie Rollers" who started after them. When they were recognized as +belonging to Mr. Coxton one of them (Paddie Rollers) said: "Don't bother +them; that's them d---- 'free niggers'." The Paddie Rollers were not +allowed to come on the Coxton plantation to whip his slaves or any other +owner's slaves who happened to be visiting at the time. Mr. Coxton +required that they all be on the plantation by nightfall. + +(The above seems to be rather conclusive proof of Mr. Coxton's influence +in the community.) [TR: Parentheses added by hand.] + +Whenever a slave committed a crime against the State, his master usually +had to pay for the damage done or pay the slave's fine. It was then up +to him to see that the offender was punished. + +Mr. Coxton once saw him (Mr. Bland) beat another slave (who was a guest +at a frolic) when this visitor attempted to draw a pistol on him. Mr. +Bland was upheld in his action and told by Mr. Coxton that he had better +always fight back when anyone struck him, whether the person was white +or black. Further, if he (Mr. Coxton) heard of his not fighting back a +whipping would be in store for him. + +Mr. Coxton was different from some of the slave owners in that he gave +the head of each family spending money at Christmas time--the amount +varying with the size of the family. + +"When the Civil war was begun the master seemed to be worried all the +time" states Mr. Bland. "He was afraid that we would be freed and then +he would have to hire us to do his work." + +When asked to describe his feelings about the war and the possibility of +his being freed, Mr. Bland said that he had no particular feeling of +gladness at all. The outcome of the war did not interest him at all +because Mr. Coxton was such a good master he didn't care whether he was +freed or not. His fellow slaves felt the same way. + +When Sherman and the Yankees were marching through they took all of the +live stock but bothered nothing else. The buildings on the adjoining +plantation were all burned. A small skirmish took place about 2 miles +away from Mr. Coxton's plantation when the Yankees and Confederates met. +Mr. Coxton's two sons took part in the war. + +Mr. Bland was taken by Sherman's army to Savannah and then to Macon. He +says that he saw President Jeff Davis give up his sword to General +Sherman in surrender. + +After the war Mr. Coxton was still well off in spite of the fact that he +had lost quite a bit of money as a result of the war. He saved a great +deal of his cash by burying it when Sherman came through. The cattle +might have been saved if he (Mr. Bland) could have driven them into the +woods before he was seen by some of the soldiers. + +At the close of the war Mr. Coxton informed all the slaves that they +were free to go where they wished, but they all refused to leave. Most +of them died on the plantation. Mr. Bland says that when he became of +age his former master gave him a wagon, two mules, a horse and buggy and +ten pigs. + +Mr. Bland thinks that old age is a characteristic in his family. His +grandmother lived to be 115 years old and his mother 107 years old. +Although in his 80's, Mr. Bland is an almost perfect picture of health. +He thinks that he will live to become at least 100 years old because he +is going to continue to live as sane a life as he has in the past. + + + + +J.R. Jones + +RIAS BODY, Ex-Slave. +Place of birth: Harris County, near Waverly Hall, Georgia +Date of birth: April 9, 1846 +Present residence: 1419-24th Street, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: July 24, 1936 +[JUL 8, 1937] + + +Rias Body was born the slave property of Mr. Ben Body, a Harris County +planter. He states that he was about fifteen years old when the Civil +War started and, many years ago, his old time white folks told him that +April 9, 1846, was the date of his birth. + +The "patarolers," according to "Uncle" Rias, were always quite active in +ante-bellum days. The regular patrol consisted of six men who rode +nightly, different planters and overseers taking turns about to do +patrol duty in each militia district in the County. + +All slaves were required to procure passes from their owners or their +plantation overseers before they could go visiting or leave their home +premises. If the "patarolers" caught a "Nigger" without a pass, they +whipped him and sent him home. Sometimes, however, if the "Nigger" +didn't run and told a straight story, he was let off with a lecture and +a warning. Slave children, though early taught to make themselves +useful, had lots of time for playing and frolicking with the white +children. + +Rias was a great hand to go seining with a certain clique of white boys, +who always gave him a generous or better than equal share of the fish +caught. + +At Christmas, every slave on the Body plantation received a present. The +Negro children received candy, raisins and "nigger-toes", balls, +marbles, etc. + +As for food, the slaves had, with the exception of "fancy trimmins", +about the same food that the whites ate. No darky in Harris County that +he ever heard of ever went hungry or suffered for clothes until after +freedom. + +Every Saturday was a wash day. The clothes and bed linen of all Whites +and Blacks went into wash every Saturday. And "Niggers", whether they +liked it or not, had to "scrub" themselves every Saturday night. + +The usual laundry and toilet soap was a homemade lye product, some of it +a soft-solid, and some as liquid as water. The latter was stored in jugs +and demijohns. Either would "fetch the dirt, or take the hide off"; in +short, when applied "with rag and water, something had to come". + +Many of the Body slaves had wives and husbands living on other +plantations and belonging to other planters. As a courtesy to the +principals of such matrimonial alliances, their owners furnished the men +passes permitting them to visit their wives once or twice a week. +Children born to such unions were the property of the wife's owner; the +father's owner had no claim to them whatsoever. + +"Uncle" Rias used to frequently come to Columbus with his master before +the war, where he often saw "Niggers oxioned off" at the old slave mart +which was located at what is now 1225 Broadway. Negroes to be offered +for sale were driven to Columbus in droves--like cattle--by "Nawthon +speckulatahs". And prospective buyers would visit the "block" +accompanied by doctors, who would feel of, thump, and examine the +"Nigger" to see if sound. A young or middle-aged Negro man, specially or +even well trained in some trade or out-of-the-ordinary line of work, +often sold for from $2000.00 to $4000.00 in gold. Women and "runty +Nigger men" commanded a price of from $600.00 up, each. A good "breedin +oman", though, says "Uncle" Rias, would sometimes sell for as high as +$1200.00. + +Rias Body had twelve brothers, eight of whom were "big buck Niggers," +and older than himself. The planters and "patarolers" accorded these +"big Niggers" unusual privileges--to the end that he estimates that they +"wuz de daddies uv least a hunnert head o' chillun in Harris County +before de war broke out." Some of these children were "scattered" over a +wide area. + +Sin, according to Rias Body, who voices the sentiment of the great +majority of aged Negroes, is that, or everything, which one does and +says "not in the name of the Master". The holy command, "Whatever ye do, +do it in My name," is subjected to some very unorthodox interpretations +by many members of the colored race. Indeed, by their peculiar +interpretation of this command, it is established that "two clean sheets +can't smut", which means that a devout man and woman may indulge in the +primal passion without committing sin. + +The old man rather boasts of the fact that he received a number of +whippings when a slave: says he now knows that he deserved them, "an +thout 'em", he would have no doubt "been hung 'fore he wuz thutty years +ole." + +Among the very old slaves whom he knew as a boy were quite a few whom +the Negroes looked up to, respected, and feared as witches, wizzards, +and magic-workers. These either brought their "learnin" with them from +Africa or absorbed it from their immediate African forebears. Mentally, +these people wern't brilliant, but highly sensitized, and Rias gave "all +sich" as wide a berth as opportunity permitted him, though he knows "dat +dey had secret doins an carrying-ons". In truth, had the Southern Whites +not curbed the mumbo-jumboism of his people, he is of the opinion that +it would not now be safe to step "out his doe at night". + +Incidentally, Rias Body is more fond of rabbit than any other meat "in +de wurrul", and says that he could--if he were able to get them--eat +three rabbits a day, 365 days in the year, and two for breakfast on +Christmas morning. He also states that pork, though killed in the +hottest of July weather, will not spoil if it is packed down in shucked +corn-on-the-cob. This he learned in slavery days when, as a "run-away", +he "knocked a shoat in the head" one summer and tried it--proving it. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +JAMES BOLTON +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Federal Writers' Project +Residency 4 +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Miss Maude Barragan +Residency 13 +Augusta, Georgia + + +"It never was the same on our plantation atter we done laid Mistess +away," said James Bolton, 85 year old mulatto ex-slave. "I ain't never +forget when Mistess died--she had been so good to every nigger on our +plantation. When we got sick, Mistess allus had us tended to. The +niggers on our plantation all walked to church to hear her funeral +sermon and then walked to the graveyard to the buryin'." + +James, shrivelled and wrinkled, with his bright eyes taking in +everything on one of his rare visits to town, seemed glad of the chance +to talk about slavery days. He spoke of his owner as "my employer" and +hastily corrected himself by saying, "I means, my marster." + +"My employer, I means my marster, and my mistess, they was sho' all +right white folkses," he continued. "They lived in the big 'ouse. Hit +was all painted brown. I heard tell they was more'n 900 acres in our +plantation and lots of folkses lived on it. The biggest portion was +woods. My paw, he was name Whitfield Bolton and Liza Bolton was my maw. +Charlie, Edmund, Thomas and John Bolton was my brothers and I had one +sister, she was Rosa. We belonged to Marse Whitfield Bolton and we lived +on his plantation in Oglethorpe County near Lexington, not far from the +Wilkes County line. + +"We stayed in a one room log cabin with a dirt floor. A frame made +outen pine poles was fastened to the wall to hold up the mattresses. Our +mattresses was made outen cotton bagging stuffed with wheat straw. Our +kivers was quilts made outen old clothes. Slave 'omens too old to work +in the fields made the quilts. + +"Maw, she went up to the big house onc't a week to git the 'lowance or +vittles. They 'lowanced us a week's rations at a time. Hit were +generally hog meat, corn meal and sometimes a little flour. Maw, she +done our cookin' on the coals in the fireplace at our cabin. We had +plenty of 'possums and rabbits and fishes and sometimes we had wild +tukkeys and partidges. Slaves warn't spozen to go huntin' at night and +everybody know you can't ketch no 'possums 'ceppin' at night! Jus' the +same, we had plenty 'possums and nobody ax how we cotch 'em!" James +laughed and nodded. "Now, 'bout them rabbits! Slaves warn't 'lowed to +have no guns and no dogs of they own. All the dogs on our plantation +belonged to my employer--I means, to my marster, and he 'lowed us to use +his dogs to run down the rabbits. Nigger mens and boys 'ud go in crowds, +sometimes as many as twelve at one time, and a rabbit ain't got no +chance 'ginst a lot of niggers and dogs when they light out for to run +'im down! + +"What wild critters we wanted to eat and couldn't run down, we was right +smart 'bout ketchin' in traps. We cotch lots of wild tukkeys and +partidges in traps and nets. Long Crick runned through our plantation +and the river warn't no fur piece off. We sho' did ketch the fishes, +mostly cats, and perch and heaps and heaps of suckers. We cotch our +fishes mos'n generally with hook and line, but the carpenters on our +plantation knowed how to make basket traps that sho' nuff did lay in +the fishes! God only knows how long it's been since this old nigger +pulled a big shad out of the river. Ain't no shads been cotch in the +river round here in so long I disremembers when! + +"We didn' have no gardens of our own round our cabins. My employer--I +means, my marster--had one big gyarden for our whole plantation and all +his niggers had to work in it whensomever he wanted 'em to, then he give +'em all plenty good gyarden sass for theyselfs. They was collards and +cabbage and turnips and beets and english peas and beans and onions, and +they was allus some garlic for ailments. Garlic was mostly to cure wums +(worms). They roasted the garlic in the hot ashes and squez the juice +outen it and made the chilluns take it. Sometimes they made poultices +outen garlic for the pneumony. + +"We saved a heap of bark from wild cherry and poplar and black haw and +slippery ellum trees and we dried out mullein leaves. They was all mixed +and brewed to make bitters. Whensomever a nigger got sick, them bitters +was good for--well ma'am, they was good for what ailed 'em! We tuk 'em +for rheumatiz, for fever, and for the misery in the stummick and for +most all sorts of sickness. Red oak bark tea was good for sore throat. + +"I never seed no store bought clothes twel long atter freedom done come! +One slave 'oman done all the weavin' in a separate room called the 'loom +house.' The cloth was dyed with home-made coloring. They used indigo for +blue, red oak bark for brown, green husks offen warnicks (walnuts) for +black, and sumacs for red and they'd mix these colors to make other +colors. Other slave 'omans larned to sew and they made all the clothes. +Endurin' the summertime we jus' wore shirts and pants made outen plain +cotton cloth. They wove wool in with the cotton to make the cloth for +our winter clothes. The wool was raised right thar on our plantation. We +had our own shoemaker man--he was a slave named Buck Bolton and he made +all the shoes the niggers on our plantation wore. + +"I waren't nothin' but chillun when freedom come. In slavery-time +chilluns waren't 'lowed to do no wuk kazen the marsters wanted they +niggers to grow up big and strong and didn' want 'em stunted none. Tha's +howcome I didn' git no mo' beatin's than I did! My employer--I means, my +marster, never did give me but one lickin'. He had done told me to watch +the cows and keep 'em in the pastur'. I cotch lots of grasshoppers and +started fishin' in the crick runnin' through the pastur' and fust thing +I knowed, the overseer was roundin' up all the other niggers to git the +cows outen the cornfields! I knowed then my time had done come!" + +James was enjoying the spotlight now, and his audience did not have to +prompt him. Plantation recollections crowded together in his old mind. + +"We had one overseer at a time," he said, "and he allus lived at the big +'ouse. The overseers warn't quality white folkses like our marster and +mistess but we never heard nuffin' 'bout no poor white trash in them +days, and effen we had heard sumpin' like that we'd have knowed better'n +to let Marster hear us make such talk! Marster made us call his overseer +'Mister.' We had one overseer named Mr. Andrew Smith and another time +we had a overseer named Mr. Pope Short. Overseers was jus' there on the +business of gettin' the work done--they seed atter everybody doin' his +wuk 'cordin' to order. + +"My employer--I means, my marster, never 'lowed no overseer to whup none +of his niggers! Marster done all the whuppin' on our plantation hisself. +He never did make no big bruises and he never drawed no blood, but he +sho' could burn 'em up with that lash! Niggers on our plantation was +whupped for laziness mostly. Next to that, whuppings was for stealin' +eggs and chickens. They fed us good and plenty but a nigger is jus' +bound to pick up chickens and eggs effen he kin, no matter how much he +done eat! He jus' can't help it. Effen a nigger ain't busy he gwine to +git into mischief! + +"Now and then slaves 'ud run away and go in the woods and dig dens and +live in 'em. Sometimes they runned away on 'count of cruel treatment, +but most of the time they runned away kazen they jus' didn't want to +wuk, and wanted to laze around for a spell. The marsters allus put the +dogs atter 'em and git 'em back. They had black and brown dogs called +'nigger hounds' what waren't used for nothin' but to track down niggers. + +"They waren't no such place as a jail whar we was. Effen a nigger done +sumpin' disorderly they jus' natcherly tuk a lash to 'im. I ain't never +seed no nigger in chains twel long atter freedom done come when I seed +'em on the chain gangs. + +"The overseer woke us up at sunrise--leas'n they called it sunrise! We +would finish our vittles and be in the fields ready for wuk befo' we +seed any sun! We laid off wuk at sunset and they didn't drive us hard. +Leas'wise, they didn' on our plantation. I done heard they was moughty +hard on 'em on other plantations. My marster never did 'low his niggers +to wuk atter sundown. My employer, I means my marster, didn't have no +bell. He had 'em blow bugles to wake up his hands and to call 'em from +the fields. Sometimes the overseer blowed it. Mistess done larned the +cook to count the clock, but none of the rest of our niggers could count +the clock. + +"I never knowed Marster to sell but one slave and he jus' had bought her +from the market at New Orleans. She say it lonesome off on the +plantation and axed Marster for to sell her to folkses livin' in town. +Atter he done sold her, every time he got to town she beg 'im to buy her +back! But he didn' pay her no more 'tention. When they had sales of +slaves on the plantations they let everybody know what time the sale +gwine to be. When the crowd git togedder they put the niggers on the +block and sell 'em. Leas'wise, they call it 'puttin' on the block'--they +jus' fotch 'em out and show 'em and sell 'em. + +"They waren't no church for niggers on our plantation and we went to +white folkses church and listened to the white preachers. We set behind +a partition. Sometimes on a plantation a nigger claim he done been +called to preach and effen he kin git his marster's cawn-sent he kin +preach round under trees and in cabins when t'aint wuk time. These +nigger preachers in slavery time was called 'chairbackers.' They waren't +no chairbackers 'lowed to baptize none of Marster's niggers. White +preachers done our baptizin' in Long Crick. When we went to be baptized +they allus sang, 'Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound!'" + +The old negro's quavery voice rose in the familiar song. For a moment he +sat thinking of those long-ago Sundays. His eyes brightened again, and +he went on: + +"We never done no wuk on Sundays on our plantation. The church was 'bout +nine miles from the plantation and we all walked there. Anybody too old +and feeble to walk the nine miles jus' stayed home, kazen Marster didn't +'low his mules used none on Sunday. All along the way niggers from other +plantations 'ud jine us and sometimes befo' we git to the church house +they'd be forty or fifty slaves comin' along the road in a crowd! +Preaching generally lasted twel bout three o'clock. In summertime we had +dinner on the ground at the church. Howsomever we didn' have no barbecue +like they does now. Everybody cooked enough on Sadday and fotched it in +baskets. + +"I was thirty years old when I jined the church. Nobody ought to jine no +church twels't he is truly borned of God, and effen he is truly borned +of God he gwine know it. Effen you want a restin' place atter you leaves +this old world you ought to git ready for it now! + +"When folkses on our plantation died Marster allus let many of us as +wanted to go, lay offen wuk twel atter the buryin'. Sometimes it were +two or three months atter the buryin' befo' the funeral sermon was +preached. Right now I can't rekelleck no song we sung at funerals cep'n +'Hark from the tombs a doleful sound.'" + +The reedy old voice carried the funeral hymn for a few minutes and then +trailed off. James was thinking back into the past again. + +"Spring plowin' and hoein' times we wukked all day Saddays, but mos'en +generally we laid off wuk at twelve o'clock Sadday. That was dinnertime. +Sadday nights we played and danced. Sometimes in the cabins, sometimes +in the yards. Effen we didn' have a big stack of fat kindling wood lit +up to dance by, sometimes the mens and 'omans would carry torches of +kindling wood whils't they danced and it sho' was a sight to see! We +danced the 'Turkey Trot' and 'Buzzard Lope', and how we did love to +dance the 'Mary Jane!' We would git in a ring and when the music started +we would begin wukkin' our footses while we sang 'You steal my true love +and I steal your'n!' + +"Atter supper we used to gether round and knock tin buckets and pans, we +beat 'em like drums. Some used they fingers and some used sticks for to +make the drum sounds and somebody allus blowed on quills. Quills was a +row of whistles made outen reeds, or sometimes they made 'em outen bark. +Every whistle in the row was a different tone and you could play any +kind of tune you wants effen you had a good row of quills. They sho' did +sound sweet! + +"'Bout the most fun we had was at corn shuckin's whar they put the corn +in long piles and called in the folkses from the plantations nigh round +to shuck it. Sometimes four or five hunnert head of niggers 'ud be +shuckin' corn at one time. When the corn all done been shucked they'd +drink the likker the marsters give 'em and then frolic and dance from +sundown to sunup. We started shuckin' corn 'bout dinnertime and tried to +finish by sundown so we could have the whole night for frolic. Some +years we 'ud go to ten or twelve corn shuckin's in one year! + +"We would sing and pray Easter Sunday and on Easter Monday we frolicked +and danced all day long! Christmas we allus had plenty good sumpin' to +eat and we all got togedder and had lots of fun. We runned up to the big +'ouse early Christmas mornin' and holler out: 'Mornin', Christmas Gif'!' +Then they'd give us plenty of Sandy Claus and we would go back to our +cabins to have fun twel New Year's day. We knowed Christmas was over and +gone when New Year's day come, kazen we got back to wuk that day atter +frolickin' all Christmas week. + +"We didn' know nuttin' 'bout games to play. We played with the white +folkses chilluns and watched atter 'em but most of the time we played in +the crick what runned through the pastur'. Nigger chilluns was allus +skeered to go in the woods atter dark. Folkses done told us +Raw-Head-and-Bloody Bones lived in the woods and git little chilluns and +eat 'em up effen they got out in the woods atter dark! + +"'Rockabye baby in the tree trops' was the onliest song I heard my maw +sing to git her babies to sleep. Slave folkses sung most all the time +but we didn' think of what we sang much. We jus' got happy and started +singin'. Sometimes we 'ud sing effen we felt sad and lowdown, but soon +as we could, we 'ud go off whar we could go to sleep and forgit all +'bout trouble!" James nodded his gray head with a wise look in his +bright eyes. "When you hear a nigger singin' sad songs hit's jus' kazen +he can't stop what he is doin' long enough to go to sleep!" + +The laughter that greeted this sally brought an answering grin to the +wrinkled old face. Asked about marriage customs, James said: + +"Folkses didn' make no big to-do over weddings like they do now. When +slaves got married they jus' laid down the broom on the floor and the +couple jined hands and jumped back-uds over the broomstick. I done seed +'em married that way many a time. Sometimes my marster would fetch +Mistess down to the slave quarters to see a weddin'. Effen the slaves +gittin' married was house servants, sometimes they married on the back +porch or in the back yard at the big 'ouse but plantation niggers what +was field hands married in they own cabins. The bride and groom jus' +wore plain clothes kazen they didn' have no more. + +"When the young marsters and mistesses at the big houses got married +they 'lowed the slaves to gadder on the porch and peep through the +windows at the weddin'. Mos'en generally they 'ud give the young couple +a slave or two to take with them to they new home. My marster's chilluns +was too young to git married befo' the war was over. They was seven of +them chilluns; four of 'em was gals. + +"What sort of tales did they tell 'mongs't the slaves 'bout the Norf +befo' the war? To tell the troof, they didn't talk much like they does +now 'bout them sort of things. None of our niggers ever runned away and +we didn' know nuthin' 'bout no Norf twel long atter freedom come. We +visited round each other's cabins at night. I did hear tell 'bout the +patterollers. Folkses said effen they cotched niggers out at night they +'ud give 'em 'what Paddy give the drum'. + +"Jus' befo' freedom comed 'bout 50 Yankee sojers come through our +plantation and told us that the bull-whups and cow-hides was all dead +and buried. Them sojers jus' passed on in a hurry and didn' stop for a +meal or vittles or nuffin'. We didn't talk much 'bout Mr. Abbieham +Lincum endurin' slavery time kazen we was skeered of him atter the war +got started. I don't know nothin' 'bout Mr. Jef'son Davis, I don't +remember ever hearin' 'bout him. I is heard about Mr. Booker Washin'ton +and they do say he runned a moughty good school for niggers. + +"One mornin' Marster blowed the bugle his own self and called us all up +to the big 'ouse yard. He told us: 'You all jus' as free as I is. You +are free from under the taskmarster but you ain't free from labor. You +gotter labor and wuk hard effen you aims to live and eet and have +clothes to wear. You kin stay here and wuk for me, or you kin go +wharsomever you please.' He said he 'ud pay us what was right, and Lady, +hit's the troof, they didn't nary a nigger on our plantation leave our +marster then! I wukked on with Marster for 40 years atter the war!" + +James had no fear of the Ku Klux. + +"Right soon atter the war we saw plenty of Ku Kluxers but they never +bothered nobody on our plantation. They allus seemed to be havin' heaps +of fun. 'Course, they did have to straighten out some of them brash +young nigger bucks on some of the other farms round about. Mos' of the +niggers the Ku Kluxers got atter was'n on no farm, but was jus' roamin' +'round talkin' too much and makin' trouble. They had to take 'em in hand +two or three times befo' some of them fool free niggers could be larned +to behave theyselfs! But them Ku Kluxers kept on atter 'em twels't they +larned they jus got to be good effen they 'spects to stay round here. + +"Hit was about 40 years atter the war befo' many niggers 'gun to own +they own lan'. They didn' know nothin' 'bout tendin' to money business +when the war done ended and it take 'em a long time to larn how to buy +and sell and take care of what they makes." James shook his head sadly. +"Ma'am, heaps of niggers ain't never larned nothin' 'bout them things +yit! + +"A long time atter the war I married Lizy Yerby. I didn' give Liza no +chanc't for to dress up. Jus' went and tuk her right outer the white +folkses' kitchen and married her at the church in her workin' clothes. +We had 13 chilluns but they ain't but two of 'em livin' now. Mos' of our +chilluns died babies. Endurin' slavery Mistess tuk care of all the +nigger babies borned on our plantations and looked atter they mammies +too, but atter freedom come heap of nigger babies died out." + +James said he had two wives, both widows. + +"I married my second wife 37 years ago. To tell the troof, I don't +rightly know how many grandchilluns I got, kazen I ain't seed some of +'em for thirty years. My chilluns is off fum here and I wouldn' know to +save my life whar they is or what they does. My sister and brothers they +is done dead out what ain't gone off, I don't know for sho' whar none of +'em is now." + +A sigh punctuated James' monologue, and his old face was shadowed by a +look of fear. + +"Now I gwine tell you the troof. Now that it's all over I don't find +life so good in my old age, as it was in slavery time when I was chillun +down on Marster's plantation. Then I didn' have to worry 'bout whar my +clothes and my somepin' to eat was comin' from or whar I was gwine to +sleep. Marster tuk keer of all that. Now I ain't able for to wuk and +make a livin' and hit's sho' moughty hard on this old nigger." + + + + +ALEC BOSTWICK +Ex-Slave--Age 76 + +[TR: Preceding page that would usually contain information regarding the +interview was marked 'Placeholder'.] + + +All of Uncle Alec Bostwick's people are dead and he lives in his tiny +home with a young Negress named Emma Vergal. It was a beautiful April +morning when his visitor arrived and while he was cordial enough he +seemed very reluctant about talking. However, as one question followed +another his interest gradually overcame his hesitancy and he began to +unfold his life's story. + +"I wuz born in Morgan County, an' I warn't mo' dan four year old when de +War ended so I don't ricollect nothin' 'bout slav'ry days. I don't know +much 'bout my ma, but her name was Martha an' pa's name was Jordan +Bostwick, I don't know whar dey come from. When I knowed nothin' I wuz +dar on de plantation. I had three brothers; George, John an' Reeje, an' +dey's all dead. I dis'members my sister's name. Dar warn't but one gal +an' she died when she wuz little. + +"Ain't much to tell 'bout what wuz done in de quarters. Slaves wuz +gyarded all de time jus' lak Niggers on de chain gang now. De overseer +always sot by wid a gun. + +"'Bout de beds, Nigger boys didn't pay no 'tention to sich as dat 'cause +all dey keered 'bout wuz a place to sleep but 'peers lak to me dey wuz +corded beds, made wid four high posties, put together wid iron pegs, an' +holes what you run de cords thoo', bored in de sides. De cords wuz made +out of b'ar grass woun' tight together. Dey put straw an' old quilts on +'em, an' called 'em beds. + +"Gran'pa Berry wuz too old to wuk in de field so he stayed 'roun' de +house an' piddled. He cut up wood, tended to de gyarden an' yard, an' +bottomed chairs. Gran'ma Liza done de cookin' an' nussed de white +folkses chilluns. + +"I wukked in de field 'long side da rest of de Niggers, totin' water an' +sich lak, wid de overseer dar all de time wid dat gun. + +"What you talkin' 'bout Miss? Us didn't have no money. Sho' us didn't. +Dey had to feed us an' plenty of it, 'cause us couldn't wuk if dey +didn't feed us good. + +"Us et cornbread, sweet 'tatoes, peas, home-made syrup an' sich lak. De +meat wuz fried sometimes, but mos' of de time it wuz biled wid de +greens. All de somethin' t'eat wuz cooked in de fireplace. Dey didn't +know what stoves wuz in dem days. Yes Ma'am, us went 'possum huntin' at +night, an' us had plenty 'possums too. Dey put sweet 'tatoes an' fat +meat roun' 'em, an' baked 'em in a oven what had eyes on each side of it +to put hooks in to take it off de fire wid. + +"No Ma'am, us didn't go fishin', or rabbit huntin' nuther. Us had to wuk +an' warn't no Nigger 'lowed to do no frolickin' lak dat in daytime. De +white folkses done all de fishin' an' daytime huntin'. I don't 'member +lakin' no sartin' somethin'. I wuz jus' too glad to git anythin'. Slaves +didn't have no gyardens of dey own. Old Marster had one big gyarden what +all de slaves et out of. + +"Tell you 'bout our clo'es: us wore home-made clo'es, pants an' shirts +made out of cotton in summer an' in de winter dey give us mo' home-made +clo'es only dey wuz made of wool. All de clawf wuz made on de loom right +dar on de plantation. Us wore de same things on Sunday what us did in de +week, no diffunt. Our shoes wuz jus' common brogans what dey made at +home. I ain't seed no socks 'til long atter de War. Co'se some folkses +mought a had 'em, but us didn't have none. + +"Marster Berry Bostwick an' Mist'ess Mary Bostwick, had a passel of +chillun, I don't 'member none 'cept young Marse John. De others drifted +off an' didn't come back, but young Marse John stayed on wid Old Marster +an' Old Mist'ess 'til dey died. Old Marster, he warn't good. Truth is de +light, an' he wuz one mean white man. Old Mist'ess wuz heaps better dan +him. Dar wuz 'bout 150 mens an' 75 'omans. I couldn't keep up wid de +chilluns. Dere wuz too many for me. + +"Marster an' Mist'ess lived in a big fine house, but de slave quarters +wuz made of logs, 'bout de size of box cyars wid two rooms. + +"'Bout dat overseer he wuz a mean man, if one ever lived. He got de +slaves up wid a gun at five o'clock an' wukked 'em 'til way atter +sundown, standin' right over 'em wid a gun all de time. If a Nigger +lagged or tuk his eyes off his wuk, right den an' dar he would make him +strip down his clo'es to his waist, an' he whup him wid a cat-o-nine +tails. Evvy lick dey struck him meant he wuz hit nine times, an' it +fotch da red evvy time it struck. + +"Oh! Yes Ma'am, dey had a cyar'iage driver, he didn't do much 'cept look +attar de hawses an' drive de white folkses 'roun'. + +"I done tole you 'bout dat overseer; all he done wuz sot 'roun' all day +wid a gun an' make de Niggers wuk. But I'se gwine tell you de trufe, he +sho' wuz poor white trash wid a house full of snotty-nose chilluns. Old +Marster tole him he wuz jus' lak a rabbit, he had so many chillun. I +means dis; if dem days comes back I hope de good Lord takes me fus'. + +"Dey had a house whar dey put de Niggers, what wuz called de gyard +house, an' us didn't know nothin' 'bout no jail dat day an' time. I seed +'em drive de Niggers by old Marster's place in droves takin' 'em to +Watkinsville. Morgan County, whar us lived, touched Oconee an' dat wuz +the nighes' town. One day I went wid old Marster to Watkinsville an' I +seed 'em sell Niggers on de block. I warn't sold. When I knowed nothin' +I wuz right whar I wuz at. + +"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for de Niggers in dem days. If a Nigger +wuz seed wid a paper, de white folks would pretty nigh knock his head +off him. + +"Us didn't have no church in de country for Niggers, an' dey went to +church wid deir white folkses, if dey went a tall. De white folks sot in +front, an' de Niggers sot in de back. All de time dat overseer wuz right +dar wid his gun. When dey baptized de Niggers dey tuk 'em down to de +river and plunged 'em in, while dem what had done been baptized sang: +"Dar's a Love Feast in Heb'en Today." + +"Yes Ma'am, de white folkses had deir cemetery, an' dey had one for de +slaves. When dere wuz a funeral 'mong de Niggers us sung: + + 'Dark was de night + And cold was de groun' + Whar my Marster was laid + De drops of sweat + Lak blood run down + In agony He prayed.' + +"Dem coffins sho' wuz mournful lookin' things, made out of pine boa'ds +an' painted wid lampblack; dey wuz black as de night. Dey wuz big at de +head an' little at de foot, sort a lak airplanes is. De inside wuz lined +wid white clawf, what dey spun on de plantation. + +"De patterollers wuz right on dey job. Slaves use' to frame up on 'em if +dey knowed whar dey wuz hidin', 'waitin' to cotch a Nigger. Dey would +git hot ashes an' dash over 'em, an' dem patterollers dey sho' would +run, but de slaves would git worse dan dat, if dey was cotched. + +"Miss, in slav'ry time when Niggers come from de fields at night dey +warn't no frolickin'. Dey jus' went to sleep. De mens wukked all day +Sadday, but de 'omans knocked off at twelve o'clock to wash an' sich +lak. + +"Christmas times dey give us a week off an' brung us a little candy an' +stuff 'roun'. Not much, not much. On New Year's Day us had to git back +on de job. + +"Chilluns what wuz big enough to wuk didn't have time in week days to +play no games on Marse Bostwick's place. On Sunday us played wid marbles +made out of clay, but dat's all. I heered my ma sing a little song to de +baby what soun' lak dis: + + 'Hush little baby + Don't you cry + You'll be an angel + Bye-an'-bye.' + +"Yes Ma'am, dere wuz one thing dey wuz good 'bout. When de Niggers got +sick dey sont for de doctor. I heered 'em say dey biled jimson weeds an' +made tea for colds, an' rhubarb tea wuz to cure worms in chillun. I wuz +too young to be bothered 'bout witches an' charms, Rawhead an' Bloody +Bones an' sich. I didn't take it in. + +"When de Yankees come thoo' an' 'lowed us wuz free, us thought dey wuz +jus' dem patterollers, an' us made for de woods. Dey tole us to come +out, dat us wuz free Niggers. Marster Berry said: 'You dam Niggers am +free. You don't b'long to me no more.' + +"Us married long time atter de War, an' us had a little feast: cake, +wine, fried chicken, an' ham, an' danced 'til 'mos' daybreak. I 'members +how good she looked wid dat pretty dove colored dress, all trimmed wid +lace. Us didn't have no chillun. She wuz lak a tree what's sposen to +bear fruit an' don't. She died 'bout thirteen years ago. + +"When de Ku Kluxers come thoo', us chillun thought de devil wuz atter us +for sho'. I wuz sich a young chap I didn't take in what dey said 'bout +Mr. Abyham Lincoln, an' Mr. Jeff Davis. Us would a been slaves 'til yit, +if Mr. Lincoln hadn't sot us free. Dey wuz bofe of 'em, good mens. I +sho' had ruther be free. Who wants a gun over 'em lak a prisoner? A +pusson is better off dead. + +"I jined de church 'cause dis is a bad place at de bes' an' dere's so +many mean folkses, what's out to seem good an' ain't. An' if you serve +God in de right way, I'se sho' when you die he'll give you a place to +rest for evermore. An' 'cordin' to my notion dat's de way evvybody +oughta live." + +In conclusion, Alec said: "I don't want to talk no more. I'se +disappointed, I thought sho' you wuz one of dem pension ladies what come +for to fetch me some money. I sho' wish dey would come. Good-bye Miss." +Then he hobbled into the house. + + + + +Barragan-Harris +[TR: Miss Maude Barragan (interviewer), Mrs. Leila Harris (editor)] + +NANCY BOUDRY, THOMSON, GEORGIA + + +"If I ain't a hunnard," said Nancy, nodding her white-turbaned head, "I +sho' is close to it, 'cause I got a grandson 50 years old." + +Nancy's silky white hair showed long and wavy under her headband. Her +gingham dress was clean, and her wrinkled skin was a reddish-yellow +color, showing a large proportion of Indian and white blood. Har eyes +ware a faded blue. + +"I speck I is mos' white," acknowledged Nancy, "but I ain't never knowed +who my father was. My mother was a dark color." + +The cottage faced the pine grove behind an old church. Pink ramblers +grew everywhere, and the sandy yard was neatly kept. Nancy's paralyzed +granddaughter-in-law hovered in the doorway, her long smooth braids +hanging over Indian-brown shoulders, a loose wrapper of dark blue denim +flowing around her tall unsteady figure. She was eager to taka part in +the conversation but hampered by a thick tongue induced, as Nancy put +it, "by a bad sore throat she ain't got over." + +Nancy's recollections of plantation days were colored to a somber hue by +overwork, childbearing, poor food and long working hours. + +"Master was a hard taskmaster," said Nancy. "My husband didn't live on +de same plantation where I was, de Jerrell places in Columbia County. He +never did have nuthin' to give me 'cause he never got nuthin'. He had to +come and ask my white folks for me. Dey had to carry passes everywhere +dey went, if dey didn't, dey'd git in trouble. + +"I had to work hard, plow and go and split wood jus' like a man. +Sometimes dey whup me. Dey whup me bad, pull de cloes off down to de +wais'--my master did it, our folks didn' have overseer. + +"We had to ask 'em to let us go to ohurch. Went to white folks church, +'tell de black folks get one of dere own. No'm I dunno how to read. +Never had no schools at all, didn' 'low us to pick up a piece paper and +look at it." + +"Nancy, wasn't your mistress kind to you?" + +"Mistis was sorta kin' to me, sometimes. But dey only give me meat and +bread, didn' give me nothin' good--I ain' gwine tell no story. I had a +heap to undergo wid. I had to scour at night at de Big House--two planks +one night, two more de nex'. De women peoples spun at night and reeled, +so many cuts a night. Us had to git up befo' daybreak be ready to go to +de fiel's. + +"My master didn' have but three cullud people, dis yuh was what I stayed +wid, my young master, had not been long married and dus' de han's dey +give him when he marry was all he had. + +"Didn' have no such house as dis," Nancy looked into the open door of +the comfortable octtage, "sometimes dey have a house built, it would be +daubed. Dus' one family, didn' no two families double up." + +"But the children had a good time, didn't they? They played games?" + +"Maybe dey did play ring games, I never had no time to see what games my +chillus play, I work so hard. Heap o' little chillun slep' on de flo'. +Never had no frolics neither, no ma'm, and didn' go to none. We would +have prayer meetings on Saturday nights, and one might in de week us had +a chairback preacher, and sometimes a regular preacher would come in." + +Nancy did not remember ever having seen the Patterollers. + +"I hearn talk of 'em you know, heap o' times dey come out and make out +like dey gwine shoot you at night, dey mus' been Patterollers, dey was +gettin' hold of a heap of 'em." + +"What did you do about funerals, Nancy?" + +"Dey let us knock off for funerals, I tell de truth. Us stay up all +night, singin' and prayin'. Dey make de coffin outter pine boards." + +"Did you suffer during the war?" + +"We done de bes' we could, we et what we could get, sometimes didn' have +nothin' to eat but piece of cornbread, but de white folks allus had +chicken." + +"But you had clothes to wear?" + +"Us had clothes 'cause we spun de thread and weaved 'em. Dey bought dem +dere great big ole brogans where you couldn' hardly walk in 'em. Not +like dese shoes I got on." Nancy thrust out her foot, easy in "Old +Ladies' Comforts." + +"When they told you were free, Nancy, did the master appear to be +angry?" + +"No'm, white folks didn' 'pear to be mad. My master dus' tole us we was +free. Us moved right off, but not so far I couldn' go backwards and +forwards to see 'um." (So it was evident that even if Nancy's life had +been hard, there was a bond between her and her former owners.) "I didn' +do no mo' work for 'um, I work for somebody else. Us rented land and +made what we could, so we could have little somethin' to eat. I scoured +and waited on white people in town, got little piece of money, and was +dus' as proud!" + +Nancy savored the recollection of her first earned money a moment, +thinking back to the old days. + +"I had a preacher for my second marriage," she continued, "Fo' chillun +died on me--one girl, de yuthers was babies. White doctor tended me." + +Asked about midwifery, Nancy smiled. + +"I was a midwife myself, to black and white, after freedom. De Thomson +doctors all liked me and tole people to 'git Nancy.' I used 'tansy +tea'--heap o' little root--made black pepper tea, fotch de pains on 'em. +When I would git to de place where I had a hard case, I would send for +de doctor, and he would help me out, yes, doctor help me out of all of +'em." + +Asked about signs and superstitions, Nancy nodded. + +"I have seed things. Day look dus' like a person, walkin' in de woods. I +would look off and look back to see it again and it be gone." Nancy +lowered her voice mysteriously, and looked back into the little room +where Vanna's unsteady figure moved from bed to chair. "I seed a coffin +floatin' in de air in dat room--" she shivered, "and I heard a heap o' +knockings. I dunno what it bees--but de sounds come in de house. I runs +ev'y squeech owl away what comes close, too." Nancy clasped her hands, +right thumb over left thumb, "does dat--and it goes on away--dey quits +hollerin', you chokin' 'em when you does dat." + +"Do you plant by the moon, Nancy?" + +"Plant when de moon change, my garden, corn, beans. I planted some beans +once on de wrong time of de moon and dey didn' bear nothing--I hated it +so bad, I didn' know what to do, so I been mindful ever since when I +plant. Women peoples come down on de moon, too. I ain't know no signs to +raise chillun. I whup mine when dey didn' do right, I sho' did. I didn' +'low my chillun to take nothin'--no aigs and nothin' 'tall and bring 'em +to my house. I say 'put dem right whar you git 'em." + +"Did you sing spirituals, Nancy?" + +"I sang regular meetin' songs," she said, "like 'lay dis body down' and +'let yo' joys be known'--but I can't sing now, not any mo'." + +Nancy was proud of her quilt-making ability. + +"Git 'um, Vanna, let de ladies see 'um," she said; and when Vanna +brought the gay pieces made up in a "double-burst" (sunburst) pattern, +Nancy fingered the squares with loving fingers. "Hit's pooty, ain't it?" +she asked wistfully, "I made one for a white lady two years ago, but dey +hurts my fingers now--makes 'em stiff." + + + + +FOLKLORE INTERVIEW + +ALICE BRADLEY +Hull Street near Corner of Hoyt Street +Athens, Georgia + +KIZZIE COLQUITT +243 Macon Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Grace McCune +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Mrs. Leila Harris +Editor +Federal Writers' Project +Augusta, Georgia +[APR 20 1938] + +[TR: These two interviews were filed together, though not recorded at +the same place or time.] + + +Alice Bradley + +Alice Bradley, or "Aunt Alice" as she is known to everybody, "runs +cards" and claims to be a seeress. Apologetic and embarrassed because +she had overslept and was straightening her room, she explained that she +hadn't slept well because a dog had howled all night and she was uneasy +because of this certain forerunner of disaster. + +"Here t'is Sunday mornin' and what wid my back, de dog, and de +rheumatics in my feets, its [TR: 'done' crossed out] too late to go to +church, so come in honey I'se glad to hab somebody to talk to. Dere is +sho' goin' to be a corpse close 'round here. One night a long time ago +two dogs howled all night long and on de nex' Sunday dere wuz two +corpses in de church at de same time. Dat's one sign dat neber fails, +when a dog howls dat certain way somebody is sho' goin' to be daid." + +When asked what her full name was, she said: "My whole name is Alice +Bradley now. I used to be a Hill, but when I married dat th'owed me out +of bein' a Hill, so I'se jus' a Bradley now. I wuz born on January 14th +but I don't 'member what year. My ma had three chillun durin' de war and +one jus' atter de war. I think dat las' one wuz me, but I ain't sho'. My +pa's name wuz Jim Hill, and ma's name wuz Ca'line Hill. Both of 'em is +daid now. Pa died October 12, 1896 and wuz 88 years old. Ma died +November 20, 1900; she wuz 80 years old. I knows dem years is right +'cause I got 'em from dat old fambly Bible so I kin git 'em jus' right. +One of my sisters, older dan I is, stays in Atlanta wid her son. Since +she los' one of her sons, her mind's done gone. My other sister ain't as +old as I is but her mind is all right and she is well." + +"I wuz raised in Washin'ton, Wilkes County, and de fust I 'members was +stayin' wid Miss Alice Rayle. She had three chillun and I nussed 'em. +One of de boys is a doctor now, and has a fambly of his own, and de las' +I heared of 'im, he wuz stayin' in Atlanta. + +"I'se been married' two times. I runned away wid Will Grisham, when I +wuz 'bout 14 years old. Mr. Carter, a Justice of de Peace, met us under +a 'simmon tree and tied de knot right dar. My folks ketched us, but us +wuz already married and so it didn't make no diffunce. + +"I lived on a farm wid my fust husband, and us had three chillun, but +dey is all gone now. I 'members when my oldes' gal wuz 'bout 2 years +old, dey wuz playin' out on de porch wid dey little dog, when a mad dog +come by and bit my chillun's dog. Folks kilt our dog, and jus' 'bout one +week atterwards my little gal wuz daid too. She did love dat little dog, +and he sho' did mind 'er. She jus' grieved herself to death 'bout dat +dog. + +"Atter my fust husband died, I married Rich Bradley. Rich wuz a railroad +man, and he went off to Washin'ton, D.C., to wuk. He sont me money all +de time den, but when he went from dar to Shecargo to wuk I didn't hear +from 'im long, and I don't know what's happened to 'im 'til now, for +it's been a long time since I heared from 'im. + +"I loves to run de cyards for my friends. I always tells 'em when I sees +dere's trouble in de cyards for 'em, and shows 'em how to git 'round it, +if I kin. None of de res' of my folks ever run de cyards, but I'se been +at it ever since I wuz jus' a little gal, pickin' up old wore out +cyards, dat had bean th'owed away, 'cause I could see things in 'em. I +'members one time when I wuz small and didn't know so good what de +cyards wuz tellin' me, dat a rich man, one of de riches' in Wilkes +County, wuz at our place, I tol 'im de cyards when I run 'em. I saw +sompin' wuz goin' to happen on his place, dat two colored mens would be +tangled up wid, but I didn't know jus' what wuz goin' to happen. And +sho' 'nuff, two colored mens sot fire to his barns and burned up all his +horses and mules, de onlies' thing dey saved wuz one ridin' horse. Dey +ketched de mens, and dey served time for what dey done. One of 'em died +way out yonder where dey sont 'em. + +"I 'members one white lady way out in Alabama sont a note axin' me to +run de cyards for her. I runned 'em and got one of my friends to writer +her what I seed. Dey had run bright and dat wuz good luck. One time I +runned de cyards for two sisters dat had done married two brothers, and +de cyards run so close kin date I wuz able to tell 'em how dey wuz +married and dey tol me dat I wuz right. + +"And jus' a few days ago a old man come to see me thinkin' dat he wuz +pizened. When I runned de cyards, I seed his trouble. He had been +drinkin' and wuz sick, so I jus' give him a big dose of soda and cream +of tartar and he got better. Den I tole him to go on home; dat nobody +hadn't done nothin' to 'im and all he needed wuz a little medicine. + +"I told Mr. Dick Armell of how he wuz goin' to git kilt if he went up in +his airyplane dat day and begged him not to try it but to wait. He +wouldn't listen and went on and got kilt jus' lak I tole 'im he would. +I runned de cyards for Mrs. Armell lots of times for I liked 'im, and he +wuz a fine man. I runned de cyards for 'im one time 'fore he went to de +World's Fair, and de cyards run bright, and his trip wuz a good one jus' +lak I tole 'im it would be. + +"All de old white folks dat I wuz raised up wid, de Hills from +Washin'ton, Wilkes, is gone now, 'cept I think one of de gals is wukin' +at de capitol in Atlanta, but she done married now and I don't 'member +her name." + +Alice excused herself to answer a knock at the door. Upon her return she +said: "Dat wuz one of my white chillun. I wukked for 'em so long and one +of 'em comes by every now an' den to see if I needs sompin'. Her ma done +had a new picture of herself took and wanted me to see it. Dey sho' is +good to me." + +Alice doesn't charge for "running the cards." She says she doesn't have +a license, and is very thankful for anything that visitors may care to +give her. She will not run the cards on Sunday. "Dat's bad luck," she +said. "Come back some day when tain't Sunday, and I'll see whats in de +cyards for you!" + + +Kizzie Colquitt + +Old Aunt Kizzie Colquitt, about 75 years old, was busily washing in her +neat kitchen. She opened the door and window frequently to let out the +smoke, saying: "Dis old wore out stove don't draw so good." Her hands +and feet were badly swollen and she seemed to be suffering. + +"I'll be glad to tell all I kin 'member 'bout dem old times," she said. +"I wuz borned durin' de war, but I don't 'member what year. My pa wuz +Mitchell Long. He b'longed to Marster Sam Long of Elbert County. Us +lived on Broad River. My ma wuz Sallie Long, and she b'longed to Marster +Billie Lattimore. Dey stayed on de other side of Broad River and my pa +and ma had to cross de river to see one another. Atter de war wuz over, +and dey wuz free, my pa went to Jefferson, Georgia, and dar he died. + +"My ma married some nigger from way out in Indiana. He promised her he +would send money back for her chillun, but us never heered nothin' from +'im no mo'. I wuz wid' my w'ite folks, de Lattimores, when my ma died, +way out in Indiana. + +"Atter Marse Bob died, I stayed wid my old Missus, and slep' by her bed +at night. She wuz good to me, and de hardes' wuk I done wuz pickin' up +acorns to fatten de hogs. I stayed dar wid her 'til she died. Us had +plenty t'eat, a smokehouse filled wid hams, and all de other things us +needed. Dey had a great big fireplace and a big old time oven whar dey +baked bread, and it sho' wuz good bread. + +"My old Missus died when I wuz 'bout 6 years old, and I wus sont to +Lexin'ton, Georgia, to live wid my sister. Dere wuz jus' da two of us +chilluns. Den us wukked every day, and went to bed by dark; not lak de +young folks now, gallivantin' 'bout all night long. + +"When I wuz 'bout 14 I married and come to live on Dr. Willingham's +place. It wuz a big plantation, and dey really lived. When de crops wuz +all in and all de wuk done, dey had big times 'round dar. + +"Dere wuz de corn shuckin' wid one house for de corn and another house +for de shucks. Atter all de shuckin' wuz done, dere wuz eatin' and +dancin'. And it wuz eatin' too! Dey kilt hogs, barbecued 'em, and +roasted some wid apples in dey mouf's to give 'em a good flavor, and +course a little corn likker went wid it. Dey had big doin's at syrup +makin' time too, but dat wuz hard wuk den. Makin' syrup sho' wuz a heap +of trouble. + +"Later us lived wid de Johnson fambly, and atter my old man died, I come +to dis town wid de Johnsons. Dere wuz three chilluns, Percy, Lewis, and +a gal. I stayed wid 'em 'til de chilluns wuz all growed up and +eddicated. All my other w'ite folks is gone; my sister done gone too, +and my son; all de chillun dat I had, deys done daid too. + +"Now I has to wash so I kin live. I used to have plenty, but times is +changed and now sometimes I don't have nothin' but bread, and jus' bread +is hard to git, heap of de time. + +"I put in for one of dem old age pensions, but dey ain't give me nothin' +yet, so I jus' wuk when I kin, and hope dat it won't be long 'fore I has +plenty again." + + + + +OLD SLAVE STORY + +DELLA BRISCOE +Macon, Georgia + +By Adella S. Dixon [HW: (Colored)] +[JUL 28 1937] + + +Della Briscoe, now living in Macon, is a former slave of Mr. David Ross, +who owned a large plantation in Putnam County. Della, when a very tiny +child, was carried there with her father and mother, Sam and Mary Ross. +Soon after their arrival the mother was sent to work at the "big house" +in Eatonton. This arrangement left Della, her brother and sister to the +care of their grandmother, who really posed as their mother. The +children grew up under the impression that their mother was an older +sister and did not know the truth until just after the close of the +Civil War, when the mother became seriously ill and called the children +to her bedside to tell them goodbye. + +Mr. David Ross had a large family and was considered the richest planter +in the county. Nearly every type of soil was found on his vast estate, +composed of hilly sections as well as acres of lowlands. The highway +entering Eatonton divided the plantation and, down this road every +Friday, Della's father drove the wagon to town with a supply of fresh +butter, for Mrs. Ross' thirty head of cows supplied enough milk to +furnish the city dwellers with butter. + +Refrigeration was practically unknown, so a well was used to keep the +butter fresh. This cool well was eighty feet deep and passed through a +layer of solid rock. A rope ladder was suspended from the mouth of the +well to the place where the butter was lowered for preservation. For +safety, and to shield it from the sun, reeds were planted all around the +well. And as they grew very tall, a stranger would not suspect a well +being there. + +In addition to marketing, Della's father trapped beavers which were +plentiful in the swampy part of the plantation bordering the Oconee, +selling their pelts to traders in the nearby towns of Augusta and +Savannah, where Mr. Ross also marketed his cotton and large quantities +of corn. Oxen, instead of mules, were used to make the trips to market +and return, each trip consuming six or seven days. + +The young children were assigned small tasks, such as piling brush in +"new grounds", carrying water to field hands, and driving the calves to +pasture. + +Punishment was administered, though not as often as on some plantations. +The little girl, Della, was whipped only once--for breaking up a +turkey's nest she had found. Several were accused of this, and because +the master could not find the guilty party, he whipped each of the +children. + +Crime was practically unknown and Mr. Ross' slaves never heard of a jail +until they were freed. + +Men were sometimes placed in "bucks", which meant they were laid across +blocks with their hands and feet securely tied. An iron bar was run +between the blocks to prevent any movement; then, after being stripped, +they were whipped. Della said that she knew of but one case of this +type of punishment being administered a Ross slave. Sickness was +negligible--childbirth being practically the only form of a Negro +woman's "coming down". + +As a precaution against disease, a tonic was given each slave every +spring. Three were also, every spring, taken from the field each day +until every one had been given a dose of calomel and salts. Mr. Ross +once bought two slaves who became ill with smallpox soon after their +arrival. They were isolated in a small house located in the center of a +field, while one other slave was sent there to nurse them. All three +were burned to death when their hut was destroyed by fire. + +In case of death, even on a neighboring place, all work was suspended +until the dead was buried. + +Sunday, the only day of rest, was often spent in attending religious +services, and because these were irregularly held, brush arbor meetings +were common. This arbor was constructed of a brush roof supported by +posts and crude joists. The seats were usually made of small saplings +nailed to short stumps. + +Religion was greatly stressed and every child was christened shortly +after its birth. An adult who desired to join the church went first to +the master to obtain his permission. He was then sent to the home of a +minister who lived a short distance away at a place called Flat Rock. +Here, his confession was made and, at the next regular service, he was +formally received into the church. + +Courtships were brief. + +The "old man", who was past the age for work and only had to watch what +went on at the quarters, was usually the first to notice a budding +friendship, which he reported to the master. The couple was then +questioned and, if they consented, were married without the benefit of +clergy. + +Food was distributed on Monday night, and for each adult slave the +following staple products were allowed-- + + Weekly ration: On Sunday: + 3-1/2 lbs. meat One qt. syrup + 1 pk. of meal One gal. flour + 1 gal. shorts One cup lard + +Vegetables, milk, etc., could be obtained at the "big house", but fresh +meat and chickens were never given. The desire for these delicacies +often overcame the slaves' better natures, and some frequently went +night foraging for small shoats and chickens. + +The "old man" kept account of the increase or decrease in live stock and +poultry and reported anything missing each day. When suspicion fell on a +visitor of the previous night, this information was given to his master, +who then searched the accused's dinner pail and cabin. If meat was found +in either the culprit was turned over to his accuser for punishment. +After being whipped, he was forbidden for three months to visit the +plantation where he had committed the theft. + +One of Della's grandmother's favorite recipes was made of dried beef and +wheat. The wheat was brought from the field and husked by hand. This, +added to the rapidly boiling beef, was cooked until a mush resulted, +which was then eaten from wooden bowls with spoons of the same material. +White plates were never used by the slaves. + +Cloth for clothing was woven on the place. Della's grandmother did most +of the spinning, and she taught her child to spin when she was so small +that she had to stand on a raised plank to reach the wheel. After the +cloth was spun it was dyed with dye made from "shoemake" (sumac) leaves, +green walnuts, reeds, and copperas. One person cut and others sewed. The +dresses for women were straight, like slips, and the garments of the +small boys resembled night shirts. If desired, a bias fold of +contrasting colour was placed at the waist line or at the bottom of +dresses. The crudely made garments were starched with a solution of +flour or meal and water which was strained and then boiled. + +As a small child Della remembers hearing a peculiar knock on the door +during the night, and a voice which replied to queries, "No one to hurt +you, but keep that red flannel in your mouth. Have you plenty to eat? +Don't worry; you'll be free." No one would ever tell, if they knew, to +whom this voice belonged. + +Just before the beginning of the Civil War a comet appeared which was so +bright that the elder people amused themselves by sitting on the rail +fence and throwing pins upon the ground where the reflection was cast. +The children scrambled madly to see who could find the most pins. + +During the early part of the war Mr. Ross fought with the Confederates, +leaving his young son, Robert, in charge of his affairs. The young +master was very fond of horses and his favorite horse--"Bill"--was +trained to do tricks. One of these was to lie down when tickled on his +flanks. The Yankees visited the plantation and tried to take this +horse. Robert, who loved him dearly, refused to dismount, and as they +were about to shoot the horse beneath him, the slaves began to plead. +They explained that the boy was kind to every one and devoted to +animals, after which explanation, he was allowed to keep his horse. + +The breastworks at Savannah required many laborers to complete their +construction, and as the commanders desired to save the strength of +their soldiers, slave labor was solicited. Two slaves from each nearby +plantation were sent to work for a limited number of days. The round +trip from the Ross plantation required seven days. + +Nearly every man had a family and when they returned from these long +trips they drove to the quarters and fell on their knees to receive the +welcome caresses of their small children. + +Recreational facilities were not provided and slave children had little +knowledge of how to play. Their two main amusements were building frog +houses and sliding down a steep bank on a long board. One day, as they +played up and down the highway, building frog houses at irregular +intervals, little Della looked up and saw a group of Yankee calvarymen +approaching. She screamed and began running and so attracted the +attention of Mr. Ross who was at home on a furlough. + +He saw the men in time to find a hiding place. Meanwhile, the soldiers +arrived and the leader, springing from his horse, snatched Della up and +spanked her soundly for giving the alarm, as they had hoped to take her +master by surprise. Della said this was the first "white slap" she ever +received. + +Some of the Yankees entered the house, tore up the interior, and threw +the furniture out doors. Another group robbed the smokehouse and smashed +so many barrels of syrup that it ran in a stream through the yard. They +carried much of the meat off with them and gave the remainder to the +slaves. Chickens were caught, dressed, and fried on the spot as each +soldier carried his own frying pan, and a piece of flint rock and a +sponge with which to make a fire. The men were skilled in dressing fowls +and cleaned them in a few strokes. + +When they had eaten as much as they desired, a search for the corral was +made, but the mules were so well hidden that they were not able to find +them. Della's father's hands were tied behind him and he was then forced +to show them the hiding place. These fine beasts, used for plowing, were +named by the slaves who worked them. Characteristic names were: "Jule", +"Pigeon", "Little Deal", "Vic", (the carriage horse), "Streaked leg," +"Kicking Kid", "Sore-back Janie". Every one was carried off. + +This raid took place on Christmas Eve and the slaves were frantic as +they had been told that Yankees were mean people, especially was Sherman +so pictured. + +When Sherman had gone, Mr. Ross came from his hiding place in the "cool +well" and spoke to his slaves. To the elder ones he said, "I saw you +give away my meat and mules." + +"Master, we were afraid. We didn't want to do it, but we were afraid not +to." + +"Yes, I understand that you could not help yourselves." He then turned +to the children, saying, "Bless all of you, but to little Della, I owe +my life. From now on she shall never be whipped, and she shall have a +home of her own for life." + +She shook with laughter as she said, "Master thought I screamed to warn +him and I was only frightened." + +True to his word, after freedom he gave her a three-acre plot of land +upon which he built a house and added a mule, buggy, cow, hogs, etc. +Della lived there until after her marriage, when she had to leave with +her husband. She later lost her home. Having been married twice, she now +bears the name of Briscoe, her last husband's name. + +When the family had again settled down to the ordinary routine, a new +plague, body lice, said to have been left by the invaders, made life +almost unbearable for both races. + +Della now lives with her granddaughter, for she has been unable to work +for twenty-eight years. Macon's Department of Public Welfare assists in +contributing to her livelihood, as the granddaughter can only pay the +room rent. + +She does not know her age but believes that she is above ninety. Her +keen old eyes seemed to look back into those bygone days as she said, "I +got along better den dan I eber hab since. We didn't know nuthin 'bout +jail houses, paying for our burial grounds, and de rent. We had plenty +o' food." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex. Slv. #11] + +GEORGE BROOKS, EX-SLAVE +Date of birth: Year unknown (See below) +Place of birth: In Muscogee County, near Columbus, Georgia +Present Residence: 502 East 8th Street, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: August 4, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + + +This old darky, probably the oldest ex-slave in West Georgia, claims to +be 112 years of age. His colored friends are also of the opinion that he +is fully that old or older--but, since none of his former (two) owners' +people can be located, and no records concerning his birth can be found, +his definite age cannot be positively established. + +"Uncle" George claims to have worked in the fields, "some", the year the +"stars fell"--1833. + +His original owner was Mr. Henry Williams--to whom he was greatly +attached. As a young man, he was--for a number of years--Mr. Williams' +personal body-servant. After Mr. Williams' death--during the 1850's, +"Uncle" George was sold to a white man--whose name he doesn't +remember--of Dadeville, Alabama, with whom he subsequently spent five +months in the Confederate service. + +One of "Uncle" George's stories is to the effect that he once left a +chore he was doing for his second "Marster's" wife, "stepped" to a +nearby well to get a drink of water and, impelled by some strange, +irresistible "power", "jes kep on walkin 'til he run slap-dab inter de +Yankees", who corraled him and kept him for three months. + +Still another story he tells is that of his being sold after freedom! +According to his version of this incident, he was sold along with two +bales of cotton in the fall of 1865--either the cotton being sold and he +"thrown in" with it, or vice versa--he doesn't know which, but he _does +know_ that he and the cotton were "sold" together! And very soon after +this transaction occurred, the seller was clapped in jail! Then, +"somebody" (he doesn't remember who) gave him some money, put him on a +stage-coach at night and "shipped" him to Columbus, where he learned +that he was a free man and has since remained. + +"Uncle" George has been married once and is the father of several +children. His wife, however, died fifty-odd years ago and he knows +nothing of the whereabouts of his children--doesn't even know whether or +not any of them are living, having lost "all track o'all kin fokes too +long ago to tawk about." + +Unfortunately, "Uncle" George's mind is clouded and his memory badly +impaired, otherwise his life story would perhaps be quite interesting. +For more than twenty years, he has been supported and cared for by kind +hearted members of his race, who say that they intend to continue "to +look after the old man 'til he passes on." + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +EASTER BROWN +1020 S. Lumpkin Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written By: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby + +Edited By: +John N. Booth +Federal Writers' Project +WPA Residency No. 7 + + +"Aunt" Easter Brown, 78 years old, was sweeping chips into a basket out +in front of her cabin. "Go right in honey, I'se comin' soon as I git +some chips for my fire. Does I lak to talk 'bout when I wuz a chile? I +sho does. I warn't but 4 years old when de war wuz over, but I knows all +'bout it." + +"I wuz born in Floyd County sometime in October. My pa wuz Erwin and my +ma wuz Liza Lorie. I don't know whar dey come from, but I knows dey wuz +from way down de country somewhars. Dere wuz six of us chilluns. All of +us wuz sold. Yessum, I wuz sold too. My oldest brother wuz named Jim. I +don't riccolec' de others, dey wuz all sold off to diffunt parts of de +country, and us never heared from 'em no more. My brother, my pa and me +wuz sold on de block in Rome, Georgia. Marster Frank Glenn buyed me. I +wuz so little dat when dey bid me off, dey had to hold me up so folkses +could see me. I don't 'member my real ma and pa, and I called Marster +'pa' an' Mist'ess 'ma', 'til I wuz 'bout 'leven years old. + +"I don't know much 'bout slave quarters, or what dey had in 'em, 'cause +I wuz raised in de house wid de white folkses. I does know beds in de +quarters wuz lak shelves. Holes wuz bored in de side of de house, two in +de wall and de floor, and poles runnin' from de wall and de floor, +fastened together wid pegs; on 'em dey put planks, and cross de foot of +de bed dey put a plank to hold de straw and keep de little 'uns from +fallin' out. + +"What did us have to eat? Lordy mussy! Mist'ess! us had everything. +Summertime dere wuz beans, cabbage, squashes, irish 'tatoes, roas'en +ears, 'matoes, cucumbers, cornbread, and fat meat, but de Nigger boys, +dey wuz plum fools 'bout hog head. In winter dey et sweet 'tatoes, +collards, turnips and sich, but I et lak de white folkses. I sho does +lak 'possums and rabbits. Yessum, some of de slaves had gyardens, some +of 'em sholy did. + +"No'm, us Niggers never wore no clothes in summer, I means us little +'uns. In de winter us wore cotton clothes, but us went barefoots. My +uncle Sam and some of de other Niggers went 'bout wid dey foots popped +open from de cold. Marster had 110 slaves on his plantation. + +"Mist'ess wuz good to me. Pa begged her to buy me, 'cause she wuz his +young Mist'ess and he knowed she would be good to me, but Marster wuz +real cruel. He'd beat his hoss down on his knees and he kilt one of 'em. +He whupped de Niggers when dey didn't do right. Niggers is lak dis; dey +wuz brought to dis here land wild as bucks, and dey is lak chicken +roosters in a pen. You just have to make 'em 'have deyselves. Its lak +dat now; if dey'd 'have deyselves, white folkses would let 'em be. + +"Dere warn't no jails in dem days. Dey had a gyuard house what dey +whupped 'em in, and Mondays and Tuesdays wuz set aside for de whuppin's, +when de Niggers what had done wrong got so many lashes, 'cordin' to what +devilment dey had been doin'. De overseer didn't do de whuppin', +Marster done dat. Dem patterrollers wuz sompin else. Mankind! If dey +ketched a Nigger out atter dark widout no pass dey'd most nigh tear de +hide offen his back. + +"I'll tell you what dat overseer done one night. Some enemy of Marster's +sot fire to de big frame house whar him and Mist'ess and de chillun +lived. De overseer seed it burnin', and run and clam up de tree what wuz +close to de house, went in de window and got Marster's two little gals +out dat burnin' house 'fore you could say scat. Dat sho fixed de +overseer wid old Marster. Atter dat Marster give him a nice house to +live in but Marster's fine old house sho wuz burnt to de ground. + +"De cyarriage driver wuz uncle Sam. He drove de chillun to school, tuk +Marster and Mist'ess to church, and done de wuk 'round de house; such +as, totin' in wood, keepin' de yards and waitin' on de cook. No'm us +slaves didn't go to church; de Niggers wuz so wore out on Sundays, dey +wuz glad to stay home and rest up, 'cause de overseer had 'em up way +'fore day and wuked 'em 'til long atter dark. On Saddays dey had to wash +deir clothes and git ready for de next week. Some slaves might a had +special things give to 'em on Christmas and New Years Day, but not on +Marster's plantation; dey rested up a day and dat wuz all. I heared tell +dey had Christmas fixin's and doin's on other plantations, but not on +Marse Frank's place. All corn shuckin's, cotton pickin's, log rollin's, +and de lak was when de boss made 'em do it, an' den dere sho warn't no +extra sompin t'eat. + +"De onliest game I ever played wuz to take my doll made out of a stick +wid a rag on it and play under a tree. When I wuz big 'nough to wuk, all +I done wuz to help de cook in de kitchen and play wid old Mist'ess' +baby. + +"Some of de Niggers runned away. Webster, Hagar, Atney, an' Jane runned +away a little while 'fore freedom. Old Marster didn't try to git 'em +back, 'cause 'bout dat time de war wuz over. Marster and Mist'ess sho +looked atter de Niggers when dey got sick for dey knowed dat if a Nigger +died dat much property wuz lost. Yessum, dey had a doctor sometime, but +de most dey done wuz give 'em hoarhound, yellow root and tansy. When a +baby wuz cuttin' teeth, dey biled ground ivy and give 'em. + +"Louisa, de cook wuz married in de front yard. All I 'members 'bout it +wuz dat all de Niggers gathered in de yard, Louisa had on a white dress; +de white folkses sho fixed Louisa up, 'cause she wuz deir cook. + +"Jus' lemme tell you 'bout my weddin' I buyed myself a dress and had it +laid out on de bed, den some triflin', no 'count Nigger wench tuk and +stole it 'fore I had a chance to git married in it. I had done buyed dat +dress for two pupposes; fust to git married in it, and second to be +buried in. I stayed on wid Old Miss 'til I got 'bout grown and den I +drifted to Athens. When I married my fust husband, Charlie Montgomery, I +wuz wukkin' for Mrs. W.R. Booth, and us married in her dinin' room. +Charlie died out and I married James Hoshier. Us had one baby. Hit wuz a +boy. James an' our boy is both daid now and I'se all by myself. + +"What de slaves done when dey wuz told dat dey wuz free? I wuz too +little to know what dey meant by freedom, but Old Marster called de +overseer and told him to ring de bell for de Niggers to come to de big +house. He told 'em dey wuz free devils and dey could go whar dey pleased +and do what dey pleased--dey could stay wid him if dey wanted to. Some +stayed wid Old Marster and some went away. I never seed no yankee +sojers. I heared tell of 'em comin' but I never seed none of 'em. + +"No'm I don't know nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Booker T. Washington +or Jefferson Davis. I didn't try to ketch on to any of 'em. As for +slavery days; some of de Niggers ought to be free and some oughtn't to +be. I don't know nuttin much 'bout it. I had a good time den, and I gits +on pretty good now. + +"How come I jined de church? Well I felt lak it wuz time for me to live +better and git ready for a home in de next world. Chile you sho has axed +me a pile of questions, and I has sho 'joyed tellin' you what I knowed." + + + + +JULIA BROWN (Aunt Sally) +710 Griffin Place, N.W. +Atlanta, Ga. +July 25, 1936[TR:?] + +by +Geneva Tonsill + +[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.] + + +AH ALWAYS HAD A HARD TIME + +Aunt Sally rocked back and forth incessantly. She mopped her wrinkled +face with a dirty rag as she talked. "Ah wuz born fo' miles frum +Commerce, Georgia, and wuz thirteen year ole at surrender. Ah belonged +to the Nash fambly--three ole maid sisters. My mama belonged to the +Nashes and my papa belonged to General Burns; he wuz a officer in the +war. There wuz six of us chilluns, Lucy, Malvina, Johnnie, Callie, Joe +and me. We didn't stay together long, as we wuz give out to different +people. The Nashes didn't believe in selling slaves but we wuz known as +their niggers. They sold one once 'cause the other slaves said they +would kill him 'cause he had a baby by his own daughter. So to keep him +frum bein' kilt, they sold him. + +"My mama died the year of surrender. Ah didn't fare well after her +death, Ah had sicha hard time. Ah wuz give to the Mitchell fambly and +they done every cruel thing they could to me. Ah slept on the flo' nine +years, winter and summer, sick or well. Ah never wore anything but a +cotton dress, a shimmy and draw's. That 'oman didn't care what happened +to the niggers. Sometimes she would take us to church. We'd walk to the +church house. Ah never went nowhere else. That 'oman took delight in +sellin' slaves. She'd lash us with a cowhide whip. Ah had to shift fur +mahself. + +"They didn't mind the slaves matin', but they wanted their niggers to +marry only amongst them on their place. They didn't 'low 'em to mate +with other slaves frum other places. When the wimmen had babies they wuz +treated kind and they let 'em stay in. We called it 'lay-in', just about +lak they do now. We didn't go to no horspitals as they do now, we jest +had our babies and had a granny to catch 'em. We didn't have all the +pain-easin' medicines then. The granny would put a rusty piece of tin or +a ax under the mattress and this would ease the pains. The granny put a +ax under my mattress once. This wuz to cut off the after-pains and it +sho did too, honey. We'd set up the fifth day and after the 'layin-in' +time wuz up we wuz 'lowed to walk out doors and they tole us to walk +around the house jest once and come in the house. This wuz to keep us +frum takin' a 'lapse. + +"We wuzn't 'lowed to go around and have pleasure as the folks does +today. We had to have passes to go wherever we wanted. When we'd git out +there wuz a bunch of white men called the 'patty rollers'. They'd come +in and see if all us had passes and if they found any who didn't have a +pass he wuz whipped; give fifty or more lashes--and they'd count them +lashes. If they said a hundred you got a hundred. They wuz somethin' lak +the Klu Klux. We wuz 'fraid to tell our masters about the patty rollers +because we wuz skeered they'd whip us again, fur we wuz tole not to +tell. They'd sing a little ditty. Ah wish Ah could remember the words, +but it went somethin' lak this: + + 'Run, Niggah, run, de Patty Rollers'll git you, + Run Niggah, ran, you'd bettah git away.' + +"We wuz 'fraid to go any place. + +"Slaves ware treated in most cases lak cattle. A man went about the +country buyin' up slaves lak buyin' up cattle and the like, and he wuz +called a 'speculator', then he'd sell 'em to the highest bidder. Oh! it +wuz pitiful to see chil'en taken frum their mothers' breast, mothers +sold, husbands sold frum wives. One 'oman he wuz to buy had a baby, and +of course the baby come befo' he bought her and he wouldn't buy the +baby; said he hadn't bargained to buy the baby too, and he jest +wouldn't. My uncle wuz married but he wuz owned by one master and his +wife wuz owned by another. He wuz 'lowed to visit his wife on Wednesday +and Saturday, that's the onliest time he could git off. He went on +Wednesday and when he went back on Saturday his wife had been bought by +the speculator and he never did know where she wuz. + +"Ah worked hard always. Honey, you can't 'magine what a hard time Ah +had. Ah split rails lak a man. How did Ah do it? Ah used a huge glut, +and a iron wedge drove into the wood with a maul, and this would split +the wood. + +"Ah help spin the cotton into thread fur our clothes. The thread wuz +made into big broaches--four broaches made four cuts, or one hank. After +the thread wuz made we used a loom to weave the cloth. We had no sewin' +machine--had to sew by hand. My mistress had a big silver bird and she +would always catch the cloth in the bird's bill and this would hold it +fur her to sew. + +"Ah didn't git to handle money when I wuz young. Ah worked frum sunup to +sundown. We never had overseers lak some of the slaves. We wuz give so +much work to do in a day and if the white folks went off on a vacation +they would give us so much work to do while they wuz gone and we better +have all of that done too when they'd come home. Some of the white folks +wuz very kind to their slaves. Some did not believe in slavery and some +freed them befo' the war and even give 'em land and homes. Some would +give the niggers meal, lard and lak that. They made me hoe when Ah wuz a +chile and Ah'd keep rat up with the others, 'cause they'd tell me that +if Ah got behind a run-a-way nigger would git me and split open my head +and git the milk out'n it. Of course Ah didn't know then that wuzn't +true--Ah believed everything they tole me and that made me work the +harder. + +"There wuz a white man, Mister Jim, that wuz very mean to the slaves. +He'd go 'round and beat 'em. He'd even go to the little homes, tear down +the chimneys and do all sorts of cruel things. The chimneys wuz made of +mud 'n straw 'n sticks; they wuz powerful strong too. Mister Jim wuz +jest a mean man, and when he died we all said God got tired of Mister +Jim being so mean and kilt him. When they laid him out on the coolin' +board, everybody wuz settin' 'round, moanin' over his death, and all of +a sudden Mister Jim rolled off'n the coolin' board, and sich a runnin' +and gittin' out'n that room you never saw. We said Mister Jim wuz tryin' +to run the niggers and we wuz 'fraid to go about at night. Ah believed +it then; now that they's 'mbalmin' Ah know that must have been gas and +he wuz purgin', fur they didn't know nothin' 'bout 'mbalmin' then. They +didn't keep dead folks out'n the ground long in them days. + +"Doctors wuzn't so plentiful then. They'd go 'round in buggies and on +hosses. Them that rode on a hoss had saddle pockets jest filled with +little bottles and lots of them. He'd try one medicine and if it didn't +do not [TR: no?] good he'd try another until it did do good and when the +doctor went to see a sick pusson he'd stay rat there until he wuz +better. He didn't jest come in and write a 'scription fur somebody to +take to a drug store. We used herbs a lots in them days. When a body had +dropsy we'd set him in a tepid bath made of mullein leaves. There wuz a +jimson weed we'd use fur rheumatism, and fur asthma we'd use tea made of +chestnut leaves. We'd git the chestnut leaves, dry them in the sun jest +lak tea leaves, and we wouldn't let them leaves git wet fur nothin' in +the world while they wuz dryin'. We'd take poke salad roots, boil them +and then take sugar and make a syrup. This wuz the best thing fur +asthma. It was known to cure it too. Fur colds and sich we used +ho'hound; made candy out'n it with brown sugar. We used a lots of rock +candy and whiskey fur colds too. They had a remedy that they used fur +consumption--take dry cow manure, make a tea of this and flavor it with +mint and give it to the sick pusson. We didn't need many doctors then +fur we didn't have so much sickness in them days, and nachelly they +didn't die so fast; folks lived a long time then. They used a lot of +peachtree leaves too for fever, and when the stomach got upsot we'd +crush the leaves, pour water over them and wouldn't let them drink any +other kind of water 'till they wuz better. Ah still believes in them ole +ho'made medicines too and ah don't believe in so many doctors. + +"We didn't have stoves plentiful then: just ovens we set in the +fireplace. Ah's toted a many a armful of bark--good ole hickory bark to +cook with. We'd cook light bread--both flour and corn. The yeast fur +this bread wuz made frum hops. Coals of fire wuz put on top of the oven +and under the bottom, too. Everything wuz cooked on coals frum a wood +fire--coffee and all. Wait, let me show you my coffee tribet. Have you +ever seen one? Well, Ah'll show you mine." Aunt Sally got up and hobbled +to the kitchen to get the trivet. After a few moments search she came +back into the room. + +"No, it's not there. Ah guess it's been put in the basement. Ah'll show +it to you when you come back. It's a rack made of iron that the pot is +set on befo' puttin' it on the fire coals. The victuals wuz good in them +days; we got our vegetables out'n the garden in season and didn't have +all the hot-house vegetables. Ah don't eat many vegetables now unless +they come out'n the garden and I know it. Well, as I said, there wuz +racks fitted in the fireplace to put pots on. Once there wuz a big pot +settin' on the fire, jest bilin' away with a big roast in it. As the +water biled, the meat turned over and over, comin' up to the top and +goin' down again, Ole Sandy, the dog, come in the kitchen. He sot there +a while and watched that meat roll over and over in the pot, and all of +a sudden-like he grabbed at that meat and pulls it out'n the pot. +'Course he couldn't eat it 'cause it wuz hot and they got the meat befo' +he et it. The kitchen wuz away frum the big house, so the victuals wuz +cooked and carried up to the house. Ah'd carry it up mahse'f. We +couldn't eat all the different kinds of victuals the white folks et and +one mornin' when I was carryin' the breakfast to the big house we had +waffles that wuz a pretty golden brown and pipin' hot. They wuz a +picture to look at and ah jest couldn't keep frum takin' one, and that +wuz the hardest waffle fur me to eat befo' I got to the big house I ever +saw. Ah jest couldn't git rid of that waffle 'cause my conscience +whipped me so. + +"They taught me to do everything. Ah'd use battlin' blocks and battlin' +sticks to wash the clothes; we all did. The clothes wuz taken out of the +water an put on the block and beat with a battlin' stick, which was made +like a paddle. On wash days you could hear them battlin' sticks poundin' +every which-away. We made our own soap, used ole meat and grease, and +poured water over wood ashes which wuz kept in a rack-like thing and the +water would drip through the ashes. This made strong lye. We used a lot +'o sich lye, too, to bile with. + +"Sometimes the slaves would run away. Their masters wuz mean to them +that caused them to run away. Sometimes they would live in caves. How +did they get along? Well, chile, they got along all right--what with +other people slippin' things in to 'em. And, too, they'd steal hogs, +chickens, and anything else they could git their hands on. Some white +people would help, too, fur there wuz some white people who didn't +believe in slavery. Yes, they'd try to find them slaves that run away +and if they wuz found they'd be beat or sold to somebody else. My +grandmother run away frum her master. She stayed in the woods and she +washed her clothes in the branches. She used sand fur soap. Yes, chile, +I reckon they got 'long all right in the caves. They had babies in thar +and raised 'em too. + +"Ah stayed with the Mitchells 'til Miss Hannah died. Ah even helped to +lay her out. Ah didn't go to the graveyard though. Ah didn't have a home +after she died and Ah wandered from place to place, stayin' with a white +fambly this time and then a nigger fambly the next time. Ah moved to +Jackson County and stayed with a Mister Frank Dowdy. Ah didn't stay +there long though. Then Ah moved to Winder, Georgia. They called it 'Jug +Tavern' in them days, 'cause jugs wuz made there. Ah married Green +Hinton in Winder. Got along well after marryin' him. He farmed fur a +livin' and made a good livin' fur me and the eight chilluns, all born in +Winder. The chilluns wuz grown nearly when he died and wuz able to help +me with the smalles ones. Ah got along all right after his death and +didn't have sich a hard time raisin' the chilluns. Then Ah married Jim +Brown and moved to Atlanta. Jim farmed at first fur a livin' and then he +worked on the railroad--the Seaboard. He helped to grade the first +railroad track for that line. He wuz a sand-dryer." + +Aunt Sally broke off her story here. "Lord, honey, Ah got sich a pain in +mah stomach Ah don't believe Ah can go on. It's a gnawin' kind of pain. +Jest keeps me weak all over." Naturally I suggested that we complete the +story at another time. So I left, promisin' to return in a few days. A +block from the house I stopped in a store to order some groceries for +Aunt Sally. The proprietress, a Jewish woman, spoke up when I gave the +delivery address. She explained in broken English that she knew Aunt +Sally. + +"I tink you vas very kind to do dis for Aunt Sally. She neets it. I +often gif her son food. He's very old and feeble. He passed here +yesterday and he look so wasted and hungry. His stomick look like it vas +drawn in, you know. I gif him some fresh hocks. I know dey could not eat +all of them in a day and I'm afrait it von't be goof [TR: goot? or +good?] for dem today. I vas trained to help people in neet. It's pert of +my religion. See, if ve sit on de stritcar and an olt person comes in +and finds no seat, ve get up and gif him one. If ve see a person loaded +vid bundles and he iss old and barely able to go, ve gif a hand. See, ve +Jews--you colored--but ve know no difference. Anyvon neeting help, ve +gif." + +A couple of days later I was back at Aunt Sally's. I had brought some +groceries for the old woman. I knocked a long time on the front door, +and, getting no answer, I picked my way through the rank growth of weeds +and grass surrounding the house and went around to the back door. It +opened into the kitchen, where Aunt Sally and her son were having +breakfast. The room was small and dark and I could hardly see the +couple, but Aunt Sally welcomed me. "Lawd, honey, you come right on in. +I tole John I heard somebody knockin' at the do'." + +"You been hearin' things all mornin'," John spoke up. He turned to me. +"You must've been thinkin' about mamma just when we started eatin' +breakfast because she asked me did I hear somebody call her. I tole her +the Lawd Jesus is always a-callin' poor niggers, but she said it sounded +like the lady's voice who was here the other day. Well I didn't hear +anything and I tole her she mus' be hearin' things." + +I'd put the bag of groceries on the table unobtrusively, but Aunt Sally +wasn't one to let such gifts pass unnoticed. Eagerly she tore the bag +open and began pulling out the packages. "Lawd bless you, chile, and He +sho will bless you! I feels rich seein' what you brought me. Jest look +at this--Lawdy mercy!--rolls, butter, milk, balogny...! Oh, this +balogny, jest looky there! You must a knowed what I wanted!" She was +stuffing it in her mouth as she talked. "And these aigs...! Honey, you +knows God is goin' to bless you and let you live long. Ah'se goin' to +cook one at a time. And Ah sho been wantin' some milk. Ah'se gonna cook +me a hoecake rat now." + +She went about putting the things in little cans and placing them on +shelves or in the dilapidated little cupboard that stood in a corner. I +sat down near the door and listened while she rambled on. + +"Ah used to say young people didn't care bout ole folks but Ah is takin' +that back now. Ah jest tole my son the other day that its turned round, +the young folks thinks of the ole and tries to help 'em and the ole +folks don't try to think of each other; some of them, they is too mean. +Ah can't understand it; Ah jest know I heard you call me when Ah started +to eat, and tole my son so. Had you been to the do' befo'?" She talked +on not waiting for a reply. "Ah sho did enjoy the victuals you sent day +befo' yistidy. They send me surplus food frum the gove'nment but Ah +don't like what they send. The skim milk gripes me and Ah don't like +that yellow meal. A friend brought me some white meal t'other day. And +that wheat cereal they send! Ah eats it with water when Ah don't have +milk and Ah don't like it but when you don't have nothin' else you got +to eat what you have. They send me 75¢ ever two weeks but that don't go +very fur. Ah ain't complainin' fur Ah'm thankful fur what Ah git. + +"They send a girl to help me around the house, too. She's frum the +housekeepin' department. She's very nice to me. Yes, she sho'ly is a +sweet girl, and her foreman is sweet too. She comes in now 'n then to +see me and see how the girl is gittin' along. She washes, too. Ah's been +on relief a long time. Now when Ah first got on it wuz when they first +started givin' me. They give me plenty of anything Ah asked fur and my +visitor wuz Mrs. Tompkins. She wuz so good to me. Well they stopped that +and then the DPW (Department of Public Welfare) took care of me. When +they first started Ah got more than I do now and they've cut me down +'till Ah gits only a mighty little. + +"Yes, Ah wuz talkin' about my husband when you wuz here t'other day. He +wuz killed on the railroad. After he moved here he bought this home. +Ah'se lived here twenty years. Jim wuz comin' in the railroad yard one +day and stepped off the little engine they used for the workers rat in +the path of the L. & M. train. He wuz cut up and crushed to pieces. He +didn't have a sign of a head. They used a rake to git up the pieces they +did git. A man brought a few pieces out here in a bundle and Ah +wouldn't even look at them. Ah got a little money frum the railroad but +the lawyer got most of it. He brought me a few dollars out and tole me +not to discuss it with anyone nor tell how much Ah got. Ah tried to git +some of the men that worked with him to tell me just how it all +happened, but they wouldn't talk, and it wuz scand'lous how them niggers +held their peace and wouldn't tell me anything. The boss man came out +later but he didn't seem intrusted in it at all, so Ah got little or +nothing fur his death. The lawyer got it fur hisse'f. + +"All my chilluns died 'cept my son and he is ole and sick and can't do +nothin' fur me or hisse'f. He gets relief too, 75¢ every two weeks. He +goes 'round and people gives him a little t'eat. He has a hard time +tryin' to git 'long. + +"Ah had a double bed in t'other room and let a woman have it so she +could git some of the delegates to the Baptist World Alliance and she +wuz goin' to pay me fur lettin' her use the bed, but she didn't git +anybody 'cept two. They come there on Friday and left the next day. She +wuz tole that they didn't act right 'bout the delegates and lots of +people went to the expense to prepare fur them and didn't git a one. Ah +wuz sorry, for Ah intended to use what she paid me fur my water bill. Ah +owes $3.80 and had to give my deeds to my house to a lady to pay the +water bill fur me and it worries me 'cause Ah ain't got no money to pay +it, fur this is all Ah got and Ah hates to loose my house. Ah wisht it +wuz some way to pay it. Ah ain't been able to do fur mahse'f in many +years now, and has to depend on what others gives me. + +"Tell you mo' about the ole times? Lawd, honey, times has changed so +frum when Ah was young. You don't hear of haints as you did when I +growed up. The Lawd had to show His work in miracles 'cause we didn't +have learnin' in them days as they has now. And you may not believe it +but them things happened. Ah knows a old man what died, and after his +death he would come to our house where he always cut wood, and at night +we could hear a chain bein' drug along in the yard, jest as if a big +log-chain wuz bein' pulled by somebody. It would drag on up to the +woodpile and stop, then we could hear the thump-thump of the ax on the +wood. The woodpile was near the chimney and it would chop-chop on, then +stop and we could hear the chain bein' drug back the way it come. This +went on fur several nights until my father got tired and one night after +he heard it so long, the chop-chop, papa got mad and hollered at the +haint, 'G---- D---- you, go to hell!!!' and that spirit went off and +never did come back! + +"We'd always know somebody wuz goin' to die when we heard a owl come to +a house and start screechin'. We always said, 'somebody is gwine to +die!' Honey, you don't hear it now and it's good you don't fur it would +skeer you to death nearly. It sounded so mo'nful like and we'd put the +poker or the shovel in the fire and that always run him away; it burned +his tongue out and he couldn't holler no more. If they'd let us go out +lak we always wanted to, Ah don't 'spects we'd a-done it, 'cause we wuz +too skeered. Lawdy, chile, them wuz tryin' days. Ah sho is glad God let +me live to see these 'uns. + +"Ah tried to git the ole-age pension fur Ah sho'ly needed it and wuz +'titled to it too. Sho wuz. But that visitor jest wouldn't let me go +through. She acted lak that money belonged to her. Ah 'plied when it +first come out and shoulda been one of the first to get one. Ah worried +powerful much at first fur Ah felt how much better off Ah'd be. Ah +wouldn't be so dependent lak Ah'm is now. Ah 'spects you know that +'oman. She is a big black 'oman--wuz named Smith at first befo' she +married. She is a Johns now. She sho is a mean 'oman. She jest wouldn't +do no way. Ah even tole her if she let me go through and Ah got my +pension Ah would give her some of the money Ah got, but she jest didn't +do no way. She tole me if Ah wuz put on Ah'd get no more than Ah _wuz_ +gittin'. Ah sho believes them thats on gits more'n 75¢ every two weeks. +Ah sho had a hard time and a roughety road to travel with her my +visitor until they sent in the housekeeper. Fur that head 'oman jest +went rat out and got me some clothes. Everything Ah needed. When Ah tole +her how my visitor wuz doin' me she jest went out and come rat back with +all the things Ah needed. Ah don't know why my visitor done me lak that. +Ah said at first it wuz because Ah had this house but honey what could +Ah do with a house when Ah wuz hongry and not able to work. Ah always +worked hard. 'Course Ah didn't git much fur it but Ah lak to work fur +what Ah gits." + +Aunt Sally was beginning to repeat herself and I began to suspect she +was talking just to please me. So I arose to go. + +"Lawsy mercy, chile, you sho is sweet to set here and talk to a ole +'oman lak me. Ah sho is glad you come. Ah tole my son you wuz a bundle +of sunshine and Ah felt so much better the day you left--and heah you is +again! Chile, my nose wuzn't itchin' fur nothin'! You come back to see +me real soon. Ah'se always glad to have you. And the Lawd's gonna sho go +with you fur bein' so good to me." + +My awareness of the obvious fulsomeness in the old woman's praise in no +way detracted from my feeling of having done a good deed. Aunt Sally was +a clever psychologist and as I carefully picked my way up the weedy path +toward the street, I felt indeed that the "Lawd" was "sho goin'" with +me. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +JULIA BUNCH, Age 85 +Beech Island +South Carolina + +Written by: +Leila Harris +Augusta + +Edited by: +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Res. 6 & 7 +[MAY 10 1938] + + +Seated in a comfortable chair in the living room of her home, Julia +Bunch, Negress of 85 years, presented a picture of the old South that +will soon pass away forever. The little 3-room house, approachable only +on foot, was situated on top of a hill. Around the clean-swept yard, +petunias, verbena, and other flowers were supplemented by a large patch +of old-fashioned ribbon grass. A little black and white kitten was +frisking about and a big red hen lazily scratched under a big shade tree +in search of food for her brood. Julia's daughter, who was washing +"white people's clothes" around the side of the house, invited us into +the living room where her mother was seated. + +The floors of the front porch and the living room were scrubbed +spotlessly clean. There was a rug on the floor, while a piano across one +corner, a chifforobe with mirrored doors, a bureau, and several +comfortable chairs completed the room's furnishings. A motley assortment +of pictures adorning the walls included: _The Virgin Mother_, _The +Sacred Bleeding Heart_, several large family photographs, two pictures +of the Dionne Quintuplets, and one of President Roosevelt. + +Julia was not very talkative, but had a shy, irresistible chuckle, and +it was this, together with her personal appearance and the tidiness of +her home that left an indelible impression on the minds of her visitors. +Her skin was very dark, and her head closely wrapped in a dark bandana, +from which this gray hair peeped at intervals forming a frame for her +face. She was clad in a black and white flowered print dress and a dark +gray sweater, from which a white ruffle was apparent at the neck. Only +two buttons of the sweater were fastened and it fell away at the waist +displaying her green striped apron. From beneath the long dress, her +feet were visible encased in men's black shoes laced with white strings. +Her ornaments consisted of a ring on her third finger, earrings, and +tortoise-rimmed glasses which plainly displayed their dime-store origin. + +"I b'longed to Marse Jackie Dorn of Edgefield County, I was gived to him +and his wife when dey was married for a weddin' gift. I nussed deir +three chilluns for 'em and slep' on a couch in dier bedroom 'til I was +12 years old, den 'Mancipation come. I loved 'em so and stayed wid 'em +for four years atter freedom and when I left 'em I cried and dem +chilluns cried. + +"Yassir, dey was sho' good white people and very rich. Dere warn't +nothin' lackin' on dat plantation. De big house was part wood and part +brick, and de Niggers lived in one or two room box houses built in rows. +Marse Jackie runned a big grist mill and done de grindin' for all de +neighbors 'round 'bout. Three or four Niggers wukked in de mill all de +time. Us runned a big farm and dairy too. + +"Dere was allus plenty t'eat 'cause Marster had a 2-acre gyarden and a +big fruit orchard. Two cooks was in de kitchen all de time. Dey cooked +in a big fireplace, but us had big ovens to cook de meat, biscuits and +lightbread in. Us made 'lasses and syrup and put up fruits just lak dey +does now. + +"My Ma was head weaver. It tuk two or three days to set up de loom +'cause dere was so many little bitty threads to be threaded up. Us had +dyes of evvy color. Yassir, us could make wool cloth too. De sheeps was +sheered once a year and de wool was manufactured up and us had a loom +wid wheels to spin it into thread. + +"Old Marster never whupped nobody and dere was only one man dat I kin +'member dat de overseer whupped much and he 'served it 'cause he would +run away in spite of evvything. Dey would tie him to a tree way down in +de orchard and whup him." + +Julia kept repeating and seemed anxious to impress upon the minds of her +visitors that her white folks were good and very rich. "Yassir, my white +folks had lots of company and visited a lot. Dey rode saddle horses and +had deir own carriages wid a high seat for de driver. Nosir, she didn't +ride wid hoopskirts--you couldn't ride wid dem on. + +"Us bought some shoes from de market but dere was a travelin' shoemaker +dat wukked by days for all de folks. He was a slave and didn't git no +money; it was paid to his Marster. Us had our own blacksmith dat wukked +all de time. + +"De slaves from all de plantations 'round come to our corn shuckin's. Us +had 'em down in de orchard. Lots of white folks comed too. Dey kilt hogs +and us had a big supper and den us danced. Nosir, dere warn't no toddy, +Marse didn't b'lieve in dat, but dey would beat up apples and us drinked +de juice. It sho' was sweet too. + +"Folks done dey travelin' in stages and hacks in dem days. Each of de +stages had four hosses to 'em. When de cotton and all de other things +was ready to go to market, dey would pack 'em and bring 'em to Augusta +wid mules and wagons. It would take a week and sometimes longer for de +trip, and dey would come back loaded down wid 'visions and clothes, and +dere was allus a plenty for all de Niggers too. + +"De white folks allus helped deir Niggers wid de weddin's and buyed deir +clothes for 'em. I 'members once a man friend of mine come to ax could +he marry one of our gals. Marster axed him a right smart of questions +and den he told him he could have her, but he mustn't knock or cuff her +'bout when he didn't want her no more, but to turn her loose. + +"Us had a big cemetery on our place and de white folks allus let deir +Niggers come to de fun'rals. De white folks had deir own sep'rate +buryin' ground, but all de coffins was home-made. Even de ones for de +settlement peoples was made right in our shop. Yassum, dey sung at de +fun'rals and you wants me to sing. I can't sing, but I'll try a little +bit." Then with a beautiful and peculiar rhythm only attained by the +southern Negro, she chanted: + + 'Come-ye-dat-love-de-Lord + And-let-your-joys-be-known.' + +"A rooster crowin' outside your door means company's comin' and a +squinch owl means sho' death. Dose are all de signs I kin 'member and I +don't 'member nothin' 'bout slavery remedies. + +"Yassir, dey useter give us a nickel or 10 cents sometimes so us could +buy candy from de store." Asked if she remembered patterollers she gave +her sly chuckle and said: "I sho' does. One time dey come to our house +to hunt for some strange Niggers. Dey didn't find 'em but I was so +skeered I hid de whole time dey was dar. Yassir, de Ku Kluxers raised +cain 'round dar too. + +"I 'members de day well when Marster told us us was free. I was glad and +didn't know what I was glad 'bout. Den 'bout 200 Yankee soldiers come +and dey played music right dar by de roadside. Dat was de fust drum and +fife music I ever heared. Lots of de Niggers followed 'em on off wid +just what dey had on. None of our Niggers went and lots of 'em stayed +right on atter freedom. + +"Four years atter dat, I left Edgefield and come here wid my old man. Us +had six chilluns. My old man died six years ago right dar 'cross de road +and I'se livin' here wid my daughter. I can't wuk no more. I tried to +hoe a little out dar in de field last year and I fell down and I hasn't +tried no more since. + +"I went once not so long ago to see my white folkses. Dey gived me a +dollar to spend for myself and I went 'cross de street and buyed me some +snuff--de fust I had had for a long time. Dey wanted to know if I had +ever got de old age pension and said dat if I had been close to dem I +would have had it 'fore now." + + + + +[HW: Ex. Slv. #6] + +[HW: MARSHAL BUTLER] +Subject: Slavery Days And After +District: No. 1 W.P.A. +Editor and Research: Joseph E. Jaffee +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee + +[HW: (This copy has photog. attached.)] + + +Slavery Days And After + +I'se Marshal Butler, [HW: 88] years old and was born on December 25. I +knows it was Christmas Day for I was a gift to my folks. Anyhow, I'se +the only niggah that knows exactly how old he be. I disremembers the +year but you white folks can figure et out. + +[Illustration] + +My mammy was Harriet Butler and my pappy was John Butler and we all was +raised in Washington-Wilkes. + +Mammy was a Frank Collar niggah and her man was of the tribe of Ben +Butler, some miles down de road. Et was one of dem trial +marriages--they'se tried so hard to see each other but old Ben Butler +says two passes a week war enuff to see my mammy on de Collar +plantation. When de war was completed pappy came home to us. We wuz a +family of ten--four females called Sally, Liza, Ellen and Lottie and six +strong bucks called Charlie, Elisha, Marshal, Jack, Heywood and little +Johnnie, [TR: 'cuz he war' marked out] de baby. + +De Collar plantation wuz big and I don't know de size of it. Et must +have been big for dere war [HW: 250] niggahs aching to go to work--I +guess they mus' have been aching after de work wuz done. Marse Frank +bossed the place hisself--dere war no overseers. We raised cotton, +corn, wheat and everything we un's et. Dere war no market to bring de +goods to. Marse Frank wuz like a foodal lord of back history as my good +for nothing grandson would say--he is the one with book-larning from +Atlanta. Waste of time filling up a nigger's head with dat trash--what +that boy needs is muscle-ology--jes' look at my head and hands. + +My mammy was maid in de Collar's home and she had many fine +dresses--some of them were give to her by her missus. Pappy war a field +nigger for ole Ben Butler and I worked in the field when I wuz knee high +to a grasshopper. We uns et our breakfast while et war dark and we +trooped to the fields at sun-up, carrying our lunch wid us. Nothing +fancy but jes' good rib-sticking victuals. We come in from the fields at +sun-down and dere were a good meal awaiting us in de slave quarters. My +good Master give out rations every second Monday and all day Monday wuz +taken to separate the wheat from the chaff--that is--I mean the victuals +had to be organized to be marched off to de proper depository. + +Before we uns et we took care of our mules. I had a mule named George--I +know my mule--he was a good mule. + + "Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee, this mornin'. + Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee. + An' I hit him across the head with + the single-tree, so soon." + +Yes, Boss-man I remembers my mule. + +Marse Frank gave mammy four acres of ground to till for herself and us +childrens. We raised cotton--yes-sah! one bale of it and lots of garden +truck. Our boss-man give us Saturday as a holiday to work our four +acres. + +All the niggers worked hard--de cotton pickers had to pick 200 pounds of +cotton a day and if a nigger didn't, Marse Frank would take de nigger to +the barn and beat him with a switch. He would tell de nigger to hollow +loud as he could and de nigger would do so. Then the old Mistress would +come in and say! "What are you doing Frank?" "Beating a nigger" would be +his answer. "You let him alone, he is my nigger" and both Marse Frank +and de whipped nigger would come out of the barn. We all loved Marse and +the Mistress. No, we wuz never whipped for stealing--we never stole +anything in dose days--much. + +We sure froliked Saturday nights. Dat wuz our day to howl and we howled. +Our gals sure could dance and when we wuz thirsty we had lemonade and +whiskey. No sah! we never mixed [HW: no] whiskey with [HW: no] +water.--Dem dat wanted lemonade got it--de gals all liked it. Niggers +never got drunk those days--we wuz scared of the "Paddle-Rollers." +Um-m-h and swell music. A fiddle and a tin can and one nigger would beat +his hand on the can and another nigger would beat the strings on the +[HW: fiddle] [TR: 'can' marked out.] with broom straws. It wuz almos' +like a banjo. I remembers we sung "Little Liza Jane" and "Green Grows +the Willow Tree". De frolik broke up in de morning--about two +o'clock--and we all scattered to which ever way we wuz going. + +We put on clean clothes on Sunday and go to church. We went to de white +church. Us niggars sat on one side and de white folks sat on the other. +We wuz baptized in de church--de "pool-room" wuz right in de church. + +If we went visiting we had to have a pass. If nigger went out without a +pass de "Paddle-Rollers" would get him. De white folks were the +"Paddle-Rollers" and had masks on their faces. They looked like niggers +wid de devil in dere eyes. They used no paddles--nothing but straps--wid +de belt buckle fastened on. + +Yes sah! I got paddled. Et happened dis way. I'se left home one Thursday +to see a gal on the Palmer plantation--five miles away. Some gal! No, I +didn't get a pass--de boss was so busy! Everything was fine until my +return trip. I wuz two miles out an' three miles to go. There come de +"Paddle-Rollers" I wuz not scared--only I couldn't move. They give me +thirty licks--I ran the rest of the way home. There was belt buckles all +over me. I ate my victuals off de porch railing. Some gal! Um-m-h. Was +worth that paddlin' to see that gal--would do it over again to see Mary +de next night. + + "O Jane! love me lak you useter, + O Jane! chew me lak you useter, + Ev'y time I figger, my heart gits bigger, + Sorry, sorry, can't be yo' piper any mo". + +Um-m-mh--Some gal! + +We Niggers were a healthy lot. If we wuz really sick Marse Frank would +send for Doctor Fielding Ficklin of Washington. If jus' a small cold de +nigger would go to de woods and git catnip and roots and sich things. If +tummy ache--dere was de Castor oil--de white folks say children cry for +it--I done my cryin' afterwards. For sore throat dere was alum. +Everybody made their own soap--if hand was burned would use soap as a +poultice and place it on hand. Soap was made out of grease, potash and +water and boiled in a big iron pot. If yo' cut your finger use kerozene +wid a rag around it. Turpentine was for sprains and bad cuts. For +constipation use tea made from sheep droppings and if away from home de +speed of de feet do not match de speed of this remedy. + +No, boss, I'se not superstitious and I'se believe in no signs. I jes' +carry a rabbits' foot for luck. But I do believe the screeching of an +owl is a sign of death. I found et to be true. I had an Uncle named +Haywood. He stayed at my house and was sick for a month but wasn't so +bad off. One night uncle had a relapse and dat same night a screech owl +come along and sat on de top of de house and he--I mean the +owl,--"whooed" three times and next morning uncle got "worser" and at +eleven o'clock he died. + +I does believe in signs. When de rooster crows in the house it is sign +of a stranger coming. If foot itches you is going to walk on strange +land. If cow lows at house at night death will be 'round de house in +short time. If sweeping out ashes at night dat is bad luck for you is +sweeping out your best friend. Remember, your closest friend is your +worst enemy. + +If you want to go a courtin'--et would take a week or so to get your +gal. Sometimes some fool nigger would bring a gal a present--like +"pulled-candy" and sich like. I had no time for sich foolishness. You +would pop the question to boss man to see if he was willing for you to +marry de gal. There was no minister or boss man to marry you--no +limitations at all. Boss man would jes say: "Don't forget to bring me a +little one or two for next year" De Boss man would fix a cottage for two +and dere you was established for life. + + "If you want to go a courtin', I sho' you where to go, + Right down yonder in de house below, + Clothes all dirty an' ain't got no broom, + Ole dirty clothes all hangin' in de room. + Ask'd me to table, thought I'd take a seat, + First thing I saw was big chunk o'meat. + Big as my head, hard as a maul, + ash-cake, corn bread, bran an' all." + +Marse Frank had plenty of visitors to see him and his three gals was +excuse for anyone for miles around to come trompin' in. He enterained +mostly on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I remembers them nights for what +was left over from de feasts the niggers would eat. + +Dr. Fielding Ficklen [TR: earlier, 'Ficklin'], Bill Pope, Judge +Reese,--General Robert Toombs and Alexander Stephens from +Crawfordville--all would come to Marse Franks' big house. + +General Robert Toombs lived in Washington and had a big plantation 'bout +a mile from de city. He was a farmer and very rich. De General wuz a big +man--'bout six feet tall--heavy and had a full face. Always had +unlighted cigar in his mouth. He was the first man I saw who smoked ten +cent cigars. Niggers used to run to get "the stumps" and the lucky +nigger who got the "stump" could even sell it for a dime to the other +niggers for after all--wasn't it General Toombs' cigar? The General +never wore expensive clothes and always carried a crooked-handled +walking stick. I'se never heard him say "niggah", never heard him cuss. +He always helped us niggars--gave gave us nickles and dimes at times. + +Alexander Stephens wuz crippled. He was a little fellow--slim, dark hair +and blue eyes. Always used a rolling chair. Marse Frank would see him at +least once a month. + +I'se saw a red cloud in de west in 1860. I knew war was brewing. Marse +Frank went to war. My uncle was his man and went to war with him--Uncle +brought him back after the battle at Gettsburg--wounded. He died later. +We all loved him. My mistress and her boys ran de plantation. + +The blue-coats came to our place in '62 and 63. They took everythin' +that was not red-hot or nailed down. The war made no changes--we did the +same work and had plenty to eat. The war was now over. We didn't know we +wuz free until a year later. I'se stayed on with Marse Frank's boys for +twenty years. I'se did the same work fo $35 to $40 a year with rations +thrown in. + +I lived so long because I tells no lies, I never spent more than fifty +cents for a doctor in my life. I believe in whiskey and that kept me +going. And let me tell you--I'se always going to be a nigger till I die. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex. Slave #13] + +AN INTERVIEW ON SLAVERY OBTAINED FROM +MRS. SARAH BYRD--EX-SLAVE + + +Mrs. Sarah Byrd claims to be 95 years of age but the first impression +one receives when looking at her is that of an old lady who is very +active and possessing a sweet clear voice. When she speaks you can +easily understand every word and besides this, each thought is well +expressed. Often during the interview she would suddenly break out in a +merry laugh as if her own thoughts amused her. + +Mrs. Sarah Byrd was born in Orange County Virginia the youngest of three +children. During the early part of her childhood her family lived in +Virginia her mother Judy Newman and father Sam Goodan each belonging to +a different master. Later on the family became separated the father was +sold to a family in East Tennessee and the mother and children were +bought by Doctor Byrd in Augusta, Georgia. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked +"Chile in them days so many families were broke up and some went one way +and der others went t'other way; and you nebber seed them no more. +Virginia wuz a reg'lar slave market." + +Dr. Byrd owned a large plantation and raised such products as peas +potatoes, cotton corn (etc). There were a large number of slaves. Mrs. +Byrd was unable to give the exact number but remarked. "Oh Lordy Chile I +nebber could tell just how many slaves that man had t'wuz too many uv +em." + +The size of the plantation required that the slaves be classified +according to the kind of work each was supposed to do. There were the +"cotton pickers", the "plow hands," the "hoe hands," the "rail +splitters," etc. "My very fust job," remarked Mrs. Byrd, "wuz that uv +cotton picking." Mrs Byrd's mother was a full [TR: field?] hand. + +Houses on the Byrd Plantation were made of logs and the cracks were +daubed with mud. The chimnies were made of mud and supported by sticks. + +Each fireplace varied in length from 3 to 4 feet because they serve the +purpose of stoves; and the family meals were prepared in those large +fireplaces often two and three pots were suspended from a rod running +across the fireplace. Most of the log houses consisted of one room; +however if the family was very large two rooms were built. The +furnishings consisted only of a home-made table, benches, and a +home-made bed, the mattress of which was formed by running ropes from +side to side forming a framework. Mattresses were made by filling a tick +with wheatstraw. The straw was changed each season. Laughing Mrs. Byrd +remarked, "Yessirree, them houses wuz warmer than some are ter day." + +Doctor Byrd was rather kind and tried to help his slaves as much as +possible, but according to Mrs. Byrd his wife was very mean and often +punished her slaves without any cause. She never gave them anything but +the coarsest foods. Although there of plenty of milk and butter, she +only gave it to the families after it had soured. "Many a day I have +seed butter just sittin around in pans day after day till it got good +and spoiled then she would call some uv us and give it ter us. Oh she +wuz a mean un," remarked Mrs. Byrd. Continuing Mrs. Byrd remarked "she +would give us bread that had been cooked a week." Mr. Byrd gave his +slave families good clothes. Twice a year clothing was distributed among +his families. Every June summer clothes were given and every October +winter clothes were given. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked "I nebber knowed what +it wuz not ter have a good pair uv shoes." Cloth for the dresses and +shirts was spun on the plantation by the slaves. + +The treatment of the slaves is told in Mrs. Byrd's own words: + +"We wuz always treated nice by Master Byrd and he always tried ter save +us punishment at the hands uv his wife but that 'oman wuz somethin' +nother. I nebber will ferget once she sent me after some brush broom and +told me ter hurry back. Well plums wuz jest gitting ripe so I just took +my time and et all the plums I wanted after that I come on back ter the +house. When I got there she called me upstairs, 'Sarah come here.' Up +the steps I went and thar she stood with that old cow hide. She struck +me three licks and I lost my balance and tumbled backward down the +stairs. I don't know how come I didn't hurt myself but the Lord wuz wid +me and I got up and flew. I could hear her just hollering 'Come back +here! come back here!' but I ant stop fer nothing. That night at supper +while I wuz fanning the flies from the table she sed ter the doctor. +'Doctor what you think? I had ter whip that little devil ter day. I sent +her after brush broom and she went off and eat plums instead of hurrying +back.' The doctor just looked at her and rolled his eyes but never sed a +word. There wuz very little whipping on Byrd's plantation, but I have +gone ter bed many a night and heard 'em gittin whipped on the plantation +next ter us. If dey runned away they would put the hounds on 'em." +Concluding her story on treatmeant Mrs. Byrd remarked "Yessirree I could +tell that 'oman wuz mean the first time I seed her after we came from +Virginia cause she had red eyes." "Pader rollers" stayed busy all the +time trying to find slaves off their plantations without passes. +Marriages were performed by having the couple jump the broom. If the +[TR: 'couple' deleted, handwritten words above illegible] belonged to +different masters oftentimes one master would purchase the other; but +should neither wish to sell the man would then have to get passes to +visit his wife on her plantation. "Dey would leave the plantation on +Saturday afternoons and on Sunday afternoon you could see 'em coming in +just lak they wuz coming from church," remarked Mrs. Byrd. + +There were frolics on the Byrd plantation any time that the slaves chose +to have them. "Yes sir we could frolic all we want ter. I use ter be so +glad when Saturday night came cause I knowed us wuz go have a frolic and +I wouldn't have a bit 'uv appetite I would tell my ma we gwine dance ter +night I dont want nothin teet. Yes sir us would frolic all night long +sometimes when the sun rise on Sunday morning us would all be layin +round or settin on the floor. They made music on the banjo, by knocking +bones, and blowing quills." + +The Byrds did not provide a church on their plantation for their slaves +neither were they allowed to attend the white church; instead they had +prayer meetings in their own cabins where they could sing pray and shout +as much as they wished. "I nebber will fergit the last prayer meeting us +had," remarked Mrs. Byrd. "Two woman named Ant Patsy and Ant Prudence +came over from the next plantation. I believed they slipped over there +wid out gittin a pass. Anyway, they old master came there and whipped +'em and made 'em go home. I reckin he thought us wuz praying ter git +free." Continuing-- + +I nebber will fergit the fust time I set eyes on them thar Yankees. I +done already heard 'bout how they wuz going round ter the different +plantations taking the horses and carrying away the money and other +valuable things, but they had nebber come ter our place. So this day I +saw 'em coming cross the railroad track and they look jest lack thunder +there wuz so meny 'uv em. When they got ter our house every body wuz +sleep and they knocked and knocked. We had a bad dog that didn't take no +foolishness off nobody, so when he kept barking them Yankees cursed him +and do you know he heshed up? I sid, 'Dear Lord what sort of man is that +all he got ter do is curse that dog and he don't even growl.' Well, when +they finally got in all they wanted wuz ter know if Mr. Byrd could help +feed the soldiers until Monday. Mr. Byrd told 'em he would. Soon after +that the war ended and we wuz called ter gether and told us wuz free. +Some uv'em stayed there and some uv'em left. Us left and moved ter +another plantation." + +Mrs. Byrd who had previously given the writer an interview on folk-lore +asked the writer to return at a later date and she would try to think up +more information concerning superstitions, conjure, etc. The writer +thanked her for the interview and promised to make another visit soon. + + + + +Ex-Slave #18 + +INTERVIEW WITH (MRS.) MARIAH CALLAWAY EX-SLAVE + +[TR: A significant portion of this interview was repeated in typescript; +where there was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used. Where a +completely different word was substituted, 'the original' refers to the +typewritten page.] + + +Mrs. Mariah Callaway sat in a chair opposite the writer and told her +freely of the incidents of slavery as she remembered them. To a casual +observer it will come as a surprise to know the woman was blind. She is +quite old, but her thoughts were clearly and intelligently related to +the writer. + +Mrs. Callaway was born in Washington, Wilkes County, Georgia probably +during the year 1852, as she estimated her age to be around 12 or 13 +years when freedom was declared. She does not remember her mother and +father, as her mother died the second day after she was born, so the job +of rearing her and a small brother fell on her grandmother, Mariah +Willis, for whom she was named. Mrs. Callaway stated that the old +master, Jim Willis, kept every Negro's age in a Bible: but after he died +the Bible was placed upstairs in the gallery and most of the pages were +destroyed. The following is a story of the purchase of Mrs. Callaway's +grandfather as related by her. + +"My grandfather come directly from Africa and I never shall forget the +story he told us of how he and other natives were fooled on board a ship +by the white slave traders using red handkerchiefs as enticement. When +they reached America, droves of them were put on the block and sold to +people all over the United States. + +The master and mistress of their plantation were Mr. Jim Willis and Mrs. +Nancy Willis who owned hundreds of acres of land and a large number of +slaves. Mrs. Callaway was unable to give an exact number but stated the +Willises were considered wealthy people. On their plantation were raised +sheep, goats, mules, horses, cows, etc. Cotton, corn and vegetables were +also raised. The Willis family was a large one consisting of six +children. 4 boys and 2 girls. Their home was a large two-story frame +house which was set apart from the slave quarters. + +Slave homes on the Willis plantation differed in no respect from the +usual type found elsewhere. All homes were simple log cabins grouped +together, forming what is known as slave quarters. + +The Willis family as kind and religious and saw to it that their slaves +were given plenty of food to eat. Every Monday night each family was +given its share of food for the week. Each grown person was given a peck +of corn [TR: meal on original page] and three pounds of meat; besides +the vegetables, etc. On Tuesday morning each family was given an ample +amount of real flour for biscuits. + +Many of the slave families, especially Mrs. Callaway's family, were +given the privilege of earning money by selling different products. "My +grandfather owned a cotton patch," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "and the +master would loan him a mule so he could plow it at night. Two boys +would each hold a light for him to work by. He preferred working at +night to working on his holidays. My master had a friend in Augusta, +Ga., by the name of Steve Heard and just before my grandfather got ready +to sell his cotton, the master would write Mr. Heard and tell him that +he was sending cotton by Sam and wanted his sold and a receipt returned +to him. He also advised him to give all the money received to Sam. When +grandfather returned he would be loaded down with sugar, cheese, tea, +mackerel, etc. for his family." + +When the women came home from the fields they had to spin 7 cuts, so +many before supper and so many after supper. A group of women were then +selected to weave the cuts of thread into cloth. Dyes were made from red +shoe berries and later used to dye this cloth different colors. All +slaves received clothing twice a year, spring and winter. Mr. Jim Willis +was known for his kindness to his slaves and saw to it that they were +kept supplied with Sunday clothes and shoes as well as work clothing. A +colored shoemaker was required to keep the plantation supplied with +shoes; and everyone was given a pair of Sunday shoes which they kept +shined with a mixture of egg white and soot. + +The size of the Willis Plantation and the various crops and cattle +raised required many different types of work. There were the plow hands, +the hoe hands, etc. Each worker had a required amount of work to +complete each day and an overseer was hired by slave owners to keep +check on this phase of the work. "We often waited until the overseer got +behind a hill, and then we would lay down our hoe and call on God to +free us, my grandfather told me," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "However, I +was a pet in the Willis household and did not have any work to do except +play with the small children. I was required to keep their hands and +faces clean. Sometimes I brought in chips to make the fires. We often +kept so much noise playing in the upstairs bedroom that the master would +call to us and ask that we keep quiet." Older women on the plantation +acted as nurses for all the small children and babies while their +parents worked in the fields. The mistress would keep a sharp eye on the +children also to see that they were well cared for. A slave's life was +very valuable to their owners. + +Punishment was seldom necessary on the Willis plantation as the master +and mistress did everything possible to make their slaves happy; and to +a certain extent indulged them. They were given whisky liberally from +their master's still; and other choice food on special occasions. "I +remember once," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "my aunt Rachel burned the +biscuits and the young master said to her, "Rachel, you nursed me and I +promised not to ever whip you, so don't worry about burning the bread." +My mistress was very fond of me, too, and gave me some of everything +that she gave her own children, tea cakes, apples, etc. She often told +me that she was my mother and was supposed to look after me. In spite of +the kindness of the Willis family there were some slaves who were +unruly; so the master built a house off to itself and called it the +Willis jail. Here he would keep those whom he had to punish. I have +known some slaves to run away on other plantations and the hounds would +bite plugs out of their legs." + +The Willis family did not object to girls and boys courting. There were +large trees, and often in the evenings the boys from other plantations +would come over to see the girls on the Willis plantation. They would +stand in groups around the trees, laughing and talking. If the courtship +reached the point of marriage a real marriage ceremony was performed +from the Bible and the man was given a pass to visit his wife weekly. +Following a marriage a frolic took place and the mistress saw to it that +everyone was served nice foods for the occasion. + +Frolics were common occurrences on the Willis plantation, also quilting +parties. Good foods consisting of pies, cakes, chicken, brandied +peaches, etc. "Dancing was always to be expected by anyone attending +them," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "Our master always kept two to three +hundred gallons of whisky and didn't mind his slaves drinking. I can +remember my master taking his sweetened dram every morning, and often he +gave me some in a tumbler. On Christmas Day big dinners were given for +all of the slaves and a few ate from the family's table after they had +finished their dinner." + +Medical care was promptly given a slave when he became ill. Special care +was always given them for the Willis family had a personal interest in +their slaves. "On one occasion," remarked Mrs. Calloway, "the scarlet +fever broke out among the slaves and to protect the well ones it became +necessary to build houses in a field for those who were sick. This +little settlement later became know as "Shant Field." Food was carried +to a hill and left so that the sick persons could get it without coming +in contact with the others. To kill the fever, sticks of fat pine were +dipped in tar and set on fire and then placed all over the field." + +Religion played as important part in the lives of the slaves, and such +[TR: much?] importance was attached to their prayer meetings. There were +no churches, provided and occasionally they attended the white churches; +but more often they held their prayer meetings in their own cabins. +Prayers and singing was in a moaning fashion, and you often heard this +and nothing more. On Sunday afternoons everyone found a seat around the +mulberry tree and the young mistress would conduct Sunday School. + +Concerning the Civil War, Mrs. Callaway related the following story: + +"When the war broke out my mistress' home became a sewing center and +deifferent women in the neighborhood would come there every day to make +clothes for the soldiers. On each bed was placed the vests, coats, +shirts, pants, and caps. One group did all the cutting, one the +stitching, and one the fitting. Many women cried while they served [TR: +sewed?] heart-broken because their husbands and sons had to go to the +war. One day the Yanks came to our plantation and took all of the best +horses. In one of their wagons were bales of money which they had taken. +Money then was blue in color; of course, there was silver and gold. +After taking the horses they drank as much whisky as they could hold and +then filled their canteens. The rest of the whisky they filled with +spit. The master didn't interfere for fear of the long guns which they +carried." + +After the war some of the slaves left the plantation to seek their +fortune; others remained, renting land from the Willis family or working +with them on a share crop basis. + +As a conclusion Mrs. Callaway remarked: "My folks were good and I know +[HW: they're] in heaven." Mrs. Callaway is deeply religious and all +during the interview would constantly drift to the subject of religion. +She is well cared for by her nine children, six girls and three boys. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +SUSAN CASTLE, Age 78 +1257 W. Hancock Ave. +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Augusta, Georgia + + +On a beautiful morning in April, the interviewer found Susan sitting in +the door of her cabin. When asked if she would like to talk about the +old plantation days, she replied; "Yes Ma'am, I don't mind tellin' what +I know, but for dat I done forgot I sho' ain't gwine make nothin' up. +For one thing, I ain't never lived on no plantation. I was a house +servant in town." She added: "Do you mind me axin' you one favor?" +Consent was given and she continued: "Dat is, please don't call me Aunt +Susan; it makes me feel lak I was a hundred years old. + +"I was borned in Clarke County, March 7, 1860; I believes dat's what dey +say. Mudder was named Fannie and Pappy's name was Willis. Us chillun +called 'im Pappy lak he was de onliest one in de world. He fust belonged +to Marse Maxwell of Savannah, Georgia. I was so little I disremembers +how Pappy come by de name of Castle. In all de seben of us chillun, I +didn't have but one brudder, and his name was Johnny. My five sisters +was Mary, Louvenia, Rosa, Fannie, and Sarah. All I 'members 'bout us as +chilluns was dat us played lak chilluns will do. + +"In de quarters us had old timey beds and cheers, but I'll tell you whar +I slept most times. Hit was on a cot right at de foot of Mist'ess' bed. +I stayed at de big house most of de time at night, and 'fore bedtime I +sot close by Mist'ess on a foot stool she had special for me. + +"All I ricollects 'bout my gran'ma was she belonged to General Thomas +R.R. Cobb, and us called 'im Marse Thomas. Gran'ma Susan wouldn't do +right so Marse Thomas sold her on de block. + +"Us had evvything good to eat. Marse Thomas was a rich man and fed 'is +Niggers well. Dey cooked in a big open fireplace and biled greens and +some of de udder vittals in a great big pot what swung on a rack. Meat, +fish and chickens was fried in a griddle iron what was sot on a flat +topped trivet wid slits to let de fire thoo. Dey called it a trivet +'cause it sot on three legs and hot coals was raked up under it. Hoe +cakes made out of cornmeal and wheat flour sho' was good cooked on dat +griddle. 'Tatoes was roasted in de ashes, and dey cooked bread what dey +called ash cake in de ashes. Pound cake, fruit cake, light bread and +biscuits was baked in a great big round pot, only dey warn't as deep as +de pots dey biled in; dese was called ovens. Makes me hongry to think +'bout all dem good vittals now. + +"Oh! Yes Ma'am, us had plenty 'possums. Pappy used to cotch so many +sometimes he jest put 'em in a box and let us eat 'em when us got ready. +'Possums tasted better atter dey was put up in a box and fattened a +while. Us didn't have many rabbits; dey warn't as much in style den as +dey is now, and de style of eatin' 'possums lak dey done in slav'ry +times, dat is 'bout over. Dey eats 'em some yet, but it ain't stylish no +mo'. Us chillun used to go fishin' in Moore's Branch; one would stand on +one side of de branch wid a stick, and one on de udder side would roust +de fishes out. When dey come to de top and jump up, us would hit 'em on +de head, and de grown folks would cook 'em. Dere warn't but one gyarden, +but dat had plenty in it for evvybody. + +"In summer time us wore checkedy dresses made wid low waistes and +gethered skirts, but in winter de dresses was made out of linsey-woolsey +cloth and underclothes was made out of coarse unbleached cloth. +Petticoats had bodice tops and de draw's was made wid waistes too. Us +chillun didn't know when Sunday come. Our clothes warn't no diffu'nt den +from no udder day. Us wore coarse, heavy shoes in winter, but in summer +us went splatter bar feets. + +"Marse Thomas was jest as good as he could be, what us knowed of 'im. +Miss Marion, my Mist'ess, she won't as good to us as Marse Thomas, but +she was all right too. Dey had a heap of chillun. Deir twin boys died, +and de gals was Miss Callie, Miss Sallie, Miss Marion (dey called her +Miss Birdie), and Miss Lucy, dat Lucy Cobb Institute was named for. My +mudder was Miss Lucy's nuss. Marse Thomas had a big fine melonial +(colonial) house on Prince Avenue wid slave quarters in de back yard of +his 10-acre lot. He owned 'most nigh dat whole block 'long dar. + +"Oh! dey had 'bout a hundred slaves I'm sho', for dere was a heap of +'em. De overseer got 'em up 'bout five o'clock in de mornin' and dat +breakfust sho' had better be ready by seben or else somebody gwine to +have to pay for it. Dey went to deir cabins 'bout ten at night. Marse +was good, but he would whup us if we didn't do right. Miss Marion was +allus findin' fault wid some of us. + +"Jesse was de car'iage driver. Car'iages was called phaetons den. Dey +had high seats up in front whar de driver sot, and de white folks sot in +de car'iage below. Jesse went to de War wid Marse Thomas, and was wid +him when he was kilt at Fred'ricksburg, Virginia. I heard 'em sey one of +his men shot 'im by mistake, but I don't know if dat's de trufe or not. +I do know dey sho' had a big grand fun'al 'cause he was a big man and a +general in de War. + +"Some of de slaves on Marse Thomas' place knowed how to read. Aunt Vic +was one of de readers what read de Bible. But most of de Niggers didn't +have sense enough to learn so dey didn't bother wid 'em. Dey had a +church way downtown for de slaves. It was called Landon's Chapel for +Rev. Landon, a white man what preached dar. Us went to Sunday School +too. Aunt Vic read de Bible sometimes den. When us jined de chu'ch dey +sung: 'Amazing Grace How Sweet de Sound.' + +"Marse Thomas had lots of slaves to die, and dey was buried in de +colored folks cemetery what was on de river back of de Lucas place. I +used to know what dey sung at fun'als way back yonder, but I can't bring +it to mind now. + +"No Ma'am, none of Marse Thomas' Niggers ever run away to de Nawth. He +was good to his Niggers. Seems lak to me I 'members dem patterollers run +some of Marse Thomas' Niggers down and whupped 'em and put 'em in jail. +Old Marse had to git 'em out when dey didn't show up at roll call next +mornin'. + +"Marse Thomas allus put a man or de overseer on a hoss or a mule when he +wanted to send news anywhar. He was a big man and had too many slaves to +do anything hisse'f. + +"I 'spect dey done den lak dey does now, slipped 'round and got in +devilment atter de day's wuk was done. Marse Thomas was allus havin' +swell elegant doin's at de big house. De slaves what was house servants +didn't have no time off only atter dinner on Sundays. + +"Christmas was somepin' else. Us sho' had a good time den. Dey give de +chilluns china dolls and dey sont great sacks of apples, oranges, candy, +cake, and evvything good out to de quarters. At night endurin' Christmas +us had parties, and dere was allus some Nigger ready to pick de banjo. +Marse Thomas allus give de slaves a little toddy too, but when dey was +havin' deir fun if dey got too loud he sho' would call 'em down. I was +allus glad to see Christmas come. On New Year's Day, de General had big +dinners and invited all de high-falutin' rich folks. + +"My mudder went to de corn shuckin's off on de plantations, but I was +too little to go. Yes Ma'am, us sho' did dance and sing funny songs way +back in dem days. Us chillun used to play 'Miss Mary Jane,' and us would +pat our hands and walk on broom grass. I don't know nothin' 'bout +charms. Dey used to tell de chillun dat when old folks died dey turned +to witches. I ain't never seed no ghostes, but I sho' has felt 'em. Dey +made de rabbits jump over my grave and had me feelin' right cold and +clammy. Mudder used to sing to Miss Lucy to git her to sleep, but I +don't 'member de songs. + +"Marster was mighty good to his slaves when dey got sick. He allus sont +for Dr. Crawford Long. He was de doctor for de white folks and Marster +had him for de slaves. + +"My mudder said she prayed to de Lord not to let Niggers be slaves all +deir lifes and sho' 'nough de yankees comed and freed us. Some of de +slaves shouted and hollered for joy when Miss Marion called us togedder +and said us was free and warn't slaves no more. Most of 'em went right +out and left 'er and hired out to make money for deyselfs. + +"I stayed on wid my mudder and she stayed on wid Miss Marion. Miss +Marion give her a home on Hull Street 'cause mudder was allus faithful +and didn't never leave her. Atter Miss Marion died, mudder wukked for +Miss Marion's daughter, Miss Callie Hull, in Atlanta. Den Miss Callie +died and mudder come on back to Athens. 'Bout ten years ago she died. + +"I wukked for Mrs. Burns on Jackson Street a long time, but she warn't +no rich lady lak de Cobbs. De last fambly I wukked for was Dr. Hill. I +nussed 'til atter de chillun got too big for dat, and den I done de +washin' 'til dis misery got in my limbs." + +When asked about marriage customs, she laughed and replied: "I was +engaged, but I didn't marry though, 'cause my mudder 'posed me marryin'. +I had done got my clothes bought and ready. Mrs. Hull helped me fix my +things. My dress was a gray silk what had pearl beads on it and was +trimmed in purple. + +"What does I think 'bout freedom? I think it's best to be free, 'cause +you can do pretty well as you please. But in slav'ry time if de Niggers +had a-behaved and minded deir Marster and Mist'ess dey wouldn't have had +sich a hard time. Mr. Jeff Davis 'posed freedom, but Mr. Abraham Lincoln +freed us, and he was all right. Booker Washin'ton was a great man, and +done all he knowed how to make somepin' out of his race. + +"De reason I jined de church was dat de Lord converted me. He is our +guide. I think people ought to be 'ligious and do good and let deir +lights shine 'cause dat's de safest way to go to Heben." + +At the conclusion of the interview Susan asked: "Is dat all you gwine to +ax me? Well, I sho' enjoyed talkin' to you. I hopes I didn't talk loud +'nough for dem other Niggers to hear me, 'cause if you open your mouth +dey sho' gwine tell it. Yes Ma'am, I'se too old to wuk now and I'se +thankful for de old age pension. If it warn't for dat, since dis misery +tuk up wid me, I would be done burnt up, I sho' would. Good-bye +Mist'ess." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 2 +Ex-Slave #17] + +ELLEN CLAIBOURN +808 Campbell Street +(Richmond County) +Augusta, Georgia + +By: +(Mrs.) Margaret Johnson--Editor +Federal Writers' Project +Dist. 2 +Augusta, Ga. + + +Ellen was born August 19, 1852, on the plantation of Mr. Hezie Boyd in +Columbia County, her father being owned by Mr. Hamilton on an adjoining +plantation. She remembers being given, at the age of seven, to her young +mistress, Elizabeth, who afterward was married to Mr. Gabe Hendricks. At +her new home she served as maid, and later as nurse. The dignity of her +position as house servant has clung to her through the years, forming +her speech in a precision unusual in her race. + +"I 'member all our young marsters was drillin' way back in 1860, an' the +Confed'rate War did not break out till in April 1861. My mistis' young +husband went to the war, an' all the other young marsters 'round us. +Young marster's bes' friend came to tell us all goodby, an' he was +killed in the first battle he fought in. + +"Befo' the war, when we was little, we mostly played dolls, and had doll +houses, but sometime young marster would come out on the back porch and +play the fiddle for us. When he played 'Ole Dan Tucker' all the peoples +uster skip and dance 'bout and have a good time. My young mistis played +on the piano. + +"My granpa was so trusty and hon'able his old marster give him and +granma they freedom when he died. He give him a little piece of land and +a mule, and some money, and tole him he didn't b'long to nobody, and +couldn't work for nobody 'cept for pay. He couldn't free granpa's +chilrun, 'cause they already b'longed to their young marsters and +mistises. He worked for Mr. Hezie Boyd one year as overseer, but he say +he didn't wanter lose his religion trying to make slaves work, so he +took to preaching. He rode 'bout on his mule and preach at all the +plantations. I never 'member seein' granma, but granpa came to see us +of'en. He wore a long tail coat and a _big_ beaver hat. In that hat +granma had always pack a pile of ginger cakes for us chilrun. They was +big an' thick, an' longish, an' we all stood 'round to watch him take +off his hat. Every time he came to see us, granma sent us clothes and +granpa carried 'em in his saddle bags. You ever see any saddle bags, +ma'am? Well they could sho' hold a heap of stuff! + +"My pa uster come two or three times a week to our plantashun, an' just +so he was back by sun-up for work, nobody didn't say nothin' to him. He +just lived 'bout three or four miles way from us. + +"Yes ma'am we went to church, and the white preachers preached for us. +We sat in the back of the church just like we sits in the back of the +street cars now-days. Some of the house servants would go one time and +some another. All the hands could go but ev'rybody had to has a pass, to +sho' who they b'long to. + +"Yes ma'am, the slaves was whipped if they didn't do they taskwork, or +if they steal off without a pass, but if our marster found a overseer +whipped the slaves overmuch he would git rid of him. We was always +treated good and kind and well cared for, and we was happy. + +"No ma'am, no overseer ever went to marster's table, or in the house +'cept to speak to marster. Marster had his overseers' house and give 'em +slaves to cook for 'em and wait on 'em, but they never go anywhere with +the fam'ly. + +"The house servants' houses was better than the fiel'-hands'--and +Marster uster buy us cloth from the 'Gusta Fact'ry in checks and plaids +for our dresses, but all the fiel'-hands clothes was made out of cloth +what was wove on mistis' own loom. Sometime the po' white folks in the +neighborhood would come an' ask to make they cloth on mistis' loom, and +she always let 'em. + +"Yes, ma'am, we had seamsters to make all the clothes for everybody, and +mistis had a press-room, where all the clothes was put away when they +was finished. When any body needed clothes mistis would go to the +press-room an' get 'em. + +"During the war mistis had one room all fixed up to take care of sick +soldiers. They would come stragglin' in, all sick or shot, an' sometimes +we had a room full of 'em. Mistis had one young boy to do nothin' but +look after 'em and many's the night I got up and helt the candle for 'em +to see the way to the room. + +"Oh my Gawd, I saw plenty wounded soldiers. We was right on the road to +Brightsboro, and plenty of 'em pass by. That Confed'rate war was the +terriblest, awfullest thing. + +"Nobody but me knowed where mistis buried her gold money and finger +rings and ear-rings and breat-pins. [TR: breast-pins?] I helt the candle +then, too. Mistis and marster, (he was home then) an' me went down back +of the grape arbor to the garden-house. Marster took up some planks, an' +dug a hole like a grabe and buried a big iron box with all them things +in it; then he put back the planks. Nobody ever found 'em, and after the +war was over we went and got 'em. + +"Yes, ma'am, everybody did they own work. De cook cooked, and the +washer, she didn't iron no clothes. De ironer did that. De housemaid +cleaned up, and nurse tended the chilrun. Then they was butlers and +coachmen. Oh, they was a plenty of us to do eve'ything. + +"We didn't have a stove, just a big fire place, and big oven on both +sides, and long-handle spiders. When we was fixin' up to go to Camp +Meeting to the White Oak Camp meeting grounds, they cooked chickens and +roasted pigs, and put apples in they mouth and a lot of other food--good +food too. De food peoples eat these days, you couldn't have got _nobody_ +to eat. Camp Meetin' was always in August and September. It was a good +Methodis' meetin', and eve'ybody got religion. Sometimes a preacher +would come to visit at the house, an' all the slaves was called an' he +prayed for 'em. Sometimes the young ones would laugh, an' then marster +would have 'em whipped. + +"My young mistis had a sister older than her. She married Mr. Artie +Boyd, an' they had a big weddin' but she loved her home and her mother +and father so much she wouldn't leave home. She just stayed on living +there. When her baby come she died, and I tell you, ma'am, her fun'al +was most like a weddin', with so many people an' so many flowers. All +the people from the plantashun came to the house, an' the wimmen had +they babies in they arms. One the ladies say, "How come they let all +these niggers and babies come in the house?" But marster knowed all us +loved mistis, and he call us in. Marse Artie he wrote a long letter an' +all the things he got from mistis he give back to her fam'ly an' all his +own things he give to his brother, an' then he died. Some say his heart +strings just broke 'cause mistis died, and some say he took something. + +"No, ma'am, I wasn't married till after freedom. I was married right +here in 'Gusta by Mr. Wharton, the First Baptist Church preacher, an' I +lived and worked here ever since." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 7 +Ex-Slave #19] +Adella S. Dixon +District 7 + +BERRY CLAY +OLD SLAVE STORY +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Telfair County was the home of some colored people who never were +slaves, but hired their services for wages just as the race does today. +Berry Clay, half Indian, half white, was the son of Fitema Bob Britt, a +full blood Indian, who died shortly after his son's birth. His mother +later married William Clay, whose name was taken by the children as well +as the mother. The family then moved to Macon. + +Clay, next [TR: 'to the' scratched out] oldest of five children was 89 +years old on August 5, 1936, and while he was never a slave, remembers +many incidents that took place then. Not many years after his mother +remarried, she became very ill and he recalls being lifted by his +step-father to kiss her good bye as she lay dying. After her death, the +family continued to live in South Macon where the father was employed as +overseer for a crew at the Railroad yard. + +This position often called for the punishment of slaves but he was too +loyal to his color to assist in making their lives more unhappy. His +method of carrying out orders and yet keeping a clear conscience was +unique--the slave was taken to the woods where he was supposedly laid +upon a log and severely beaten. Actually, he was made to stand to one +side and to emit loud cries which were accompanied by hard blows on the +log. The continuation of the two sounds gave any listener the impression +that some one was severely beaten. It is said that Clay, the father, +wore out several huge leather straps upon logs but that he was never +known to strike a slave. + +Mr. Wadley, by whom he was employed, was a well-known Macon citizen who +served as President of the Central of Georgia Railroad for many years. A +monument on Mulberry Street nearly opposite the Post Office is a +constant reminder of the esteem in which he was held. His plantation was +a huge one extending from the Railroad yard as far as the present site +of Mercer University. A day of rest was given the slaves about once +every three months in addition to the regular holidays which are +observed today. On holidays, "frolics" at which square dances were the +chief form of entertainment (by the music of a banjo or fiddle) were +enjoyed. Ring games were played by the children. The refreshments +usually consisted of ash cakes and barbecue. The ash cake was made by +wrapping corn pones in oak leaves and burying the whole in hot ashes. +When the leaves dried, the cake was usually done and was carefully moved +to prevent its becoming soiled. [HW: A] skillful cook could produce +cakes that were a golden brown and not at all ashy. + +The membership of the local church was composed of slaves from several +plantations. It was an old colored church with a white minister who +preached the usual doctrine of the duty of a slave to his master. The +form of service was the same as that of the white church. One unusual +feature of the plantation was its Sunday School for the Negro children. + +Courtships were very brief for as soon as a man or woman began to +manifest interest in the opposite sex, the master busied himself to +select a wife or husband and only in rare cases was the desire of the +individual considered. When the selection was made, the master read the +ceremony and gave the couple a home. He always requested, or rather +demanded, that they be fruitful. A barren woman was separated from her +husband and usually sold. + +Very little money was handled by these people. The carriage drivers were +more fortunate than the regular workers for they smuggled things to town +when they drove the master and mistress and sold them while the family +shopped or went visiting. At rare intervals, the field hands were able +to earn small sums of money in this manner. + +Food was provided by the owners and all families cooked for themselves +whether they were many or one. The weekly allotments of meal, meat, +etc., were supplemented through the use of vegetables which could always +be obtained from the fields. On special days chicken or beef was given +and each one had a sufficient amount for his needs. Hunting and fishing +were recreations in which the slaves were not allowed to participate +although they frequently went on secret excursions of this nature. All +food stuff as well as cloth for garments was produced at home. + +Clay is very superstitious, still believing in most of the signs +commonly believed in those days, because he has "watched them and found +that they are true". He stated that the screeching of the owl may be +stopped by placing a poker in the fire and allowing it to remain until +it becomes red hot. The owl will then leave, but death will invariably +follow its visit. + +The attitudes of the two races in the South regarding the war were +directly opposite. The whites beheld it as something horrible and +dreaded the losses that would necessarily be theirs. Sons and fathers +had property to be considered, but they were generous in their +contributions to the soldiers. On the other hand, the slaves rejoiced as +they looked forward to their freedom when the war was over. There were, +however, a few who were devoted to their masters to the extent that they +fought in their stead in the Confederate Army. Others remained at home +and skillfully ran the plantation and protected the women and children +until the end of the war. + +When Sherman made his famous "March to Sea", one phalanx of his army +wrought its destruction between this city and Griswoldville. A gun +factory and government shoe factory were completely destroyed. Although +the citizens gave the invaders everything they thought they desired, the +rest was destroyed in most instances. They tried to ascertain the +attitudes of the land owners toward his servants and when for any reason +they presumed that one was cruel, their vengeance was expressed through +the absolute destruction of his property. In nearly every instance smoke +houses were raided and the contents either destroyed or given away. +Barrels of syrup flowing through the yard was a common sight. + +At the end of the war, the South was placed under military rule. The +presence of the Yankee guardsmen had a psychological effect upon the +Southerners and they were very humble. + +Before the terrors of the war had subsided a new menace sprang up--the +Klu Klux Klan. While its energy was usually directed against ex-slaves, +a white man was sometimes a victim. One such occasion was recalled by +Clay. The group planned to visit a man who for some reason became +suspicious and prepared to outwit them if they came. He heated a huge +pot of water and when a part of his door was crashed in he reached +through the opening and poured gourds of boiling water upon his +assailants. They retreated, [HW: and] while they were away, he made his +way to Atlanta. + +Another group which began its operations shortly after the close of the +war was a military clan organized for the purpose of giving the +ex-slaves a knowledge of drilling and war tactics. An order to disband +was received from the "Black Horse Calvary" by the leader of the group. +His life was threatened when he failed to obey so he prepared for a +surprise visit. He fortified his house with twenty-five men on the +inside and the same number outside. When the approaching calvarymen +reached a certain point, the fifty hidden men fired at the same time. +Seven members of the band were killed and many others wounded. There was +no further interference from this group. + +Clay and his father ran a grocery store just after Emancipation. He did +not like this type of work and apprenticed himself to a painter to learn +the trade. He is still considered an excellent painter though he does +not receive much work. + +He has always taken care of himself and never "ran about" at night. He +boasts that his associates never included a dancing woman. As he has +used tobacco for sixty-five years, he does not consider it a menace to +health but states that worry will kill anyone and the man who wants to +live a long time must form the habit of not worrying. His Indian +blood--the high cheek bones, red skin and straight black hair now tinged +with grey make this unmistakable--has probably played a large part in +the length of his life. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 7 +Ex-Slave #22] +Adella S. Dixon +District 7 + +PIERCE CODY +OLD SLAVE STORY +[HW: About 88] +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Pierce Cody was the eldest son of Elbert and Dorothy Cody. His father +was born in Richmond, Virginia, his mother in Warren County. When the +Emancipation Proclamation was signed, he, the eldest child in a large +family, was in his early teens. This group lived on the place owned by +Mr. Bob Cody, [HW: whose] family was a group of ardent believers in the +Hardshell Baptist faith. So firm was their faith that a church of this +denomination was provided for the slaves and each one required to become +a member. A white minister invariably preached the then worn out +doctrine of a slave's duty to his master, the reward of faithfulness and +the usual admonition against stealing. + +The members of this church were required to fast on one day of the week, +the fast lasting all day until seven in the evening. The small boys, +both white and colored, resenting the abstinence from food, usually +secured a reserve supply which was cached during the week and secretly +enjoyed on fast day. Fish were plentiful in all the streams and they +sometimes sneaked away to the river and after enjoying the sport, cooked +their catch on the banks of the stream. + +Groups of ministers--30 to 40--then traveled from one plantation to +another spreading the gospel, and were entertained as they traveled. On +one occasion the group arrived at the Cody estate on fast day. The boys +having been on one of their secret fishing trips had caught so many +perch that they were not able to consume them on the banks, so had +smuggled them to the kitchen, coaxed the cook to promise to prepare +them, and had also sworn her to absolute secrecy regarding their origin. +Although the kitchen was not directly connected with the "big house", +the guests soon detected the aroma of fresh fish and requested that +they be allowed to partake of this delicacy. When the boys, as well as +the servants, heard this, they became panicky for they feared the wrath +of the master. But the catch was so heartily relished that instead of +the expected punishment, they were commended and allowed to fish on the +next day of fasting. + +As was characteristic of many others, the planter's home was near the +center of a vast estate and in this instance had a tall lookout on the +roof from which the watchman might see for miles around. The "quarters" +were nearby and the care-free children who played in the large yard were +closely watched as they were often stolen by speculators and later sold +at auctions far away. The land was divided into many fields each of +which was used to cultivate a particular product. Each field had its +special crew and overseer. + +Cody's father was [HW: one of the] feeders [HW: who] arose at least two +hours before sunrise, to feed the stock. A large number of horses and +more than two hundred head of cattle had to be fed by sunrise when they +were to be turned into the pastures or driven to the field to begin the +day's work. After sunrise, his father's duty [HW: as] foreman for +plowers began. Other workers were hoe hands, additional foremen, cooks, +weavers, spinners, seamstresses, tailors, shoemakers, etc. As everything +used was grown and made on the estate there was plenty of work for all +and in many instances [HW: slaves] learned trades which they liked and +which furnished a livelihood when they were set free. + +[HW: When he entered his teens] Cody's first duties began [HW: as] a +plowhand who broke "newground." As all of this land was to be plowed, a +lack of skill in making straight furrows did not matter, so beginners +were preferably used. Shortly after he began plowing he was made +foreman of one of the groups. Thus encouraged by his master's faith in +his ability to do a man's work, he assumed a "grown up" attitude under +the stimulus of his new responsibilities and was married shortly after. + +At this time marriages resulted from brief courtships. After the consent +of the girl was obtained, it was necessary to seek permission from the +master, whether she lived on the same or an adjoining plantation. In the +latter case, the marriage rites were performed by her master. The +minister was not used in most instances--the ceremony [HW: being] read +from a testament by the owner of the bride. Marriages were nearly always +performed out of doors in the late afternoon. The bride's wedding dress +was fashioned of cloth made on the plantation from a pattern of her own +designing. Attendants at marriages were rare. After the ceremony, the +guests danced far into the night by music from the fiddle and banjo. +Refreshments consisting of ginger cakes, barbecue, etc., were served. +Such a couple, belonging to two different masters, did not keep house. +The [HW: husband] was allowed to visit his wife on Wednesday night and +Saturday when he might remain through Sunday. All marriage unions were +permanent and a barren wife was considered the only real cause for +separation. + +Church services for this group were held jointly with the white members, +the two audiences being separated by a partition. Gradually, the colored +members became dissatisfied with this type of service and withdrew to +form a separate church. The desire for independence in worship must +necessarily have been strong, to endure the inconveniences of the "brush +arbor" churches that they resorted to. As a beginning, several trees +were felled, and the brush and forked branches separated. Four heavy +branches with forks formed the framework. Straight poles were laid +across these to form a crude imitation of beams and the other framework +of a building. The top and sides were formed of brush which was thickly +placed so that it formed a solid wall. A hole left in one side formed a +doorway from which beaten paths extended in all directions. Seats made +from slabs obtained at local sawmills completed the furnishing. In +inclement weather, it was not possible to conduct services here, but +occasionally showers came in the midst of the service and the audience +calmly hoisted umbrellas or papers and with such scant protection, the +worship continued. + +Sunday afternoons were quietly spent, visiting being the only means of +recreation. One of the favorite stay at home pastimes was the inspection +of heads. The pediculous condition made frequent treatment necessary for +comfort. The young white men liked to visit the "quarters" and have the +slaves search their heads. They would stretch full length upon the cabin +floors and rest their heads upon a pillow. Usually they offered a gift +of some sort if many of the tiny parasites were destroyed, so the clever +picker who found a barren head simply reached into his own and produced +a goodly number. There existed on this plantation an antagonistic +feeling toward children (born of slave parents) with a beautiful suit of +hair, and this type of hair was kept cropped very short. + +Gossip, stealing, etc. was not tolerated. No one was ever encouraged to +"tattle" on another. Locks were never used on any of the cabin doors or +on the smokehouse. Food was there in abundance and each person was free +to replenish his supply as necessary. Money was more or less a novelty +as it was only given in 1¢ pieces at Christmas time. As food, clothing, +and shelter were furnished, the absence was not particularly painful. +Connected with nearly every home were those persons who lived "in the +woods" in preference to doing the labor necessary to remain at their +home. Each usually had a scythe and a bulldog for protection. As food +became scarce, they sneaked to the quarters in the still of the night +and coaxed some friend to get food for them from the smokehouse. Their +supply obtained, they would leave again. This was not considered +stealing. + +Medical care was also free. Excellent physicians were maintained. It was +not considered necessary to call a physician until home +remedies--usually teas made of roots--had had no effect. Women in +childbirth were cared for by grannies,--Old women whose knowledge was +broad by experience, acted as practical nurses. + +Several cooks were regularly maintained. Some cooked for the men who had +no families, others for the members of the big house and guests. The +menus varied little from day to day. A diet of bread--called "shortening +bread,"--vegetables and smoked meat were usually consumed. Buttermilk +was always plentiful. On Sundays "seconds" (flour) were added to the +list and butter accompanied this. Chickens, fresh meat, etc., were +holiday items and were seldom enjoyed at any other time. + +Not only were the slaves required to work but the young men of the "big +house" also had their duties. In the summer they went fishing. While +this sport was enjoyed, it was done on an extremely large scale in order +that everyone should have an adequate supply of fish. The streams +abounded in all kinds of fish, and nets were used to obtain large +quantities necessary. In winter hunting was engaged in for this same +purpose. Rabbits, squirrels, etc., were the usual game, but in addition +the trapping of wild hogs was frequently indulged in. The woods +contained many of these animals which were exceptionally vicious. The +hunters, however, trapped them in much the same way that rabbits are now +caught, without injury to the flesh [TR: 'making the meat more +delicious' marked out]. Deer were also plentiful and venison enjoyed +during its season. Horned snakes were the greatest impediments to more +abundant hunting. + +Knowledge of the war was kept from the slaves until long after its +beginning. Most of them had no idea what "war" meant and any news that +might have been spread, fell on deaf ears. Gradually this knowledge was +imparted by Yankee peddlers who came to the plantation to sell +bed-ticking, etc. When the master discovered how this information was +being given out, these peddlers were forbidden to go near the quarters. +This rule was strictly enforced. + +Eventually, the Confederate soldiers on their way to and from camp began +to stop at the house. Food and everything available was given to them. +Three of Mr. Cody's sons were killed in battle. As the Northern soldiers +did not come near the home, the loss of property was practically +negligible [TR: '--six cents being all' marked out]. + +When the Emancipation Proclamation was signed, the slaves were called to +the "big house" in a group to receive the news that they were free. Both +old and young danced and cheered when this information was given out. +Many of the families remained there for a year or two until they were +able to find desirable locations elsewhere. + +Cody attributes his ability to reach a ripe old age to the excellent +care he took of himself in his youth. He has used tobacco since he was a +small boy and does not feel that it affects his health. Distilled liquor +was plentiful in his young days and he always drank but never to an +excess. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +WILLIS COFER, Age 78 +548 Findley Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Grace McCune +Federal Writers' Project +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens, Ga. + +and +Leila Harris +John N. Booth +Augusta, Georgia +[MAY 6 1938] + + +Willis was enjoying the warm sunshine of an April morning as he sat on +his small porch. Apparently, he was pleased because someone actually +wanted to hear him talk about himself. His rheumatism had been painful +ever since that last bad cold had weakened him, but he felt sure the +sunshine would "draw out all the kinks." Having observed the amenities +in regard to health and weather, the old man proceeded with his story: + +"Eden and Calline Cofer was my pa and ma and us all lived on de big old +Cofer plantation 'bout five miles from Washin'ton, Wilkes. Pa b'longed +to Marse Henry Cofer and ma and us chillun wuz de property of Marse +Henry's father, Marse Joe Cofer. + +"I wuz borned in 1860, and at one time I had three brudders, but Cato +and John died. My oldest brudder, Ben Cofer, is still livin' and +a-preachin' de Gospel somewhar up Nawth. + +"Chilluns did have de bestes' good times on our plantation, 'cause Old +Marster didn't 'low 'em to do no wuk 'til dey wuz 12 years old. Us jus' +frolicked and played 'round de yard wid de white chilluns, but us sho' +did evermore have to stay in dat yard. It wuz de cook's place to boss us +when de other Niggers wuz off in de fields, and evvy time us tried to +slip off, she cotch us and de way dat 'oman could burn us up wid a +switch wuz a caution. + +"Dere warn't no schools for us to go to, so us jes' played 'round. Our +cook wuz all time feedin' us. Us had bread and milk for breakfas', and +dinner wuz mos'ly peas and cornbread, den supper wuz milk and bread. +Dere wuz so many chilluns dey fed us in a trough. Dey jes' poured de +peas on de chunks of cornbread what dey had crumbled in de trough, and +us had to mussel 'em out. Yessum, I said mussel. De only spoons us had +wuz mussel shells what us got out of de branches. A little Nigger could +put peas and cornbread away mighty fast wid a mussel shell. + +"Boys jes' wore shirts what looked lak dresses 'til dey wuz 12 years old +and big enough to wuk in de field. Den dey put 'em on pants made open in +de back. Dem britches would look awful funny now, but dey wuz all us had +den, and all de boys wuz mighty proud when dey got big enough to wear +pants and go to wuk in de fields wid grown folkses. When a boy got to be +a man enough to wear pants, he drawed rations and quit eatin' out of de +trough. + +"All de slave quarters wuz log cabins and little famblies had cabins wid +jes' one room. Old Marster sho' did want to see lots of chilluns 'round +de cabins and all de big famblies wuz 'lowed to live in two-room cabins. +Beds for slaves wuz made by nailing frames, built out of oak or walnut +planks to de sides of de cabins. Dey had two or three laigs to make 'em +set right, and de mattresses wuz filled wid wheat straw. Dere warn't no +sto'-bought stoves den, and all our cookin' wuz done in de fireplace. +Pots wuz hung on iron cranes to bile and big pones of light bread wuz +cooked in ovens on de hearth. Dat light bread and de biscuits made out +of shorts wuz our Sunday bread and dey sho' wuz good, wid our home-made +butter. Us had good old corn bread for our evvyday bread, and dere ain't +nothin' lak corn bread and buttermilk to make healthy Niggers. Dere +wouldn't be so many old sick Niggers now if dey et corn bread evvyday +and let all dis wheat bread and sto'-bought, ready-made bread alone +'cept on Sunday. + +"Dere wuz four or five acres in Marster's big old gyarden, but den it +tuk a big place to raise enough for all de slaves and white folkses too +in de same gyarden. Dere wuz jus' de one gyarden wid plenty of cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, beans, corn, peas, onions, 'taters, and jus' +evvything folkses laked in de way of gyarden sass. Marster never 'lowed +but one smokehouse on his place. It wuz plumb full of meat, and evvy +slave had his meat rations weighed out reg'lar. Dere wuz jes' one dairy +house too whar de slaves got all de milk and butter dey needed. Marster +sho' did b'lieve in seeing dat his Niggers had a plenty to eat. + +"Marster raised lots of chickens and de slaves raised chickens too if +dey wanted to. Marster let 'em have land to wuk for deyselves, but dey +had to wuk it atter dey come out of his fields. All dey made on dis land +wuz deir own to sell and do what dey wanted to wid. Lots of 'em plowed +and hoed by moonlight to make deir own crops. + +"Us used to hear tell of big sales of slaves, when sometimes mammies +would be sold away off from deir chilluns. It wuz awful, and dey would +jes' cry and pray and beg to be 'lowed to stay together. Old Marster +wouldn't do nothin' lak dat to us. He said it warn't right for de +chilluns to be tuk away from deir mammies. At dem sales dey would put a +Nigger on de scales and weigh him, and den de biddin' would start. If +he wuz young and strong, de biddin' would start 'round $150 and de +highest bidder got de Nigger. A good young breedin' 'oman brung $2,000 +easy, 'cause all de Marsters wanted to see plenty of strong healthy +chillun comin' on all de time. Cyarpenters and bricklayers and +blacksmiths brung fancy prices from $3,000 to $5,000 sometimes. A Nigger +what warn't no more'n jes' a good field hand brung 'bout $200. + +"Dem bricklayers made all de bricks out of de red clay what dey had +right dar on most all de plantations, and de blacksmith he had to make +all de iron bars and cranes for de chimblies and fireplaces. He had to +make de plow points too and keep de farm tools all fixed up. Sometimes +at night dey slipped off de place to go out and wuk for money, a-fixin' +chimblies and buildin' things, but dey better not let demselves git +cotched. + +"Mammy wove de cloth for our clothes and de white folkses had 'em made +up. Quilts and all de bed-clothes wuz made out of homespun cloth. + +"De fus' Sadday atter Easter wuz allus a holiday for de slaves. Us wuz +proud of dat day 'cause dat wuz de onlies' day in de year a Nigger could +do 'zactly what he pleased. Dey could go huntin', fishin' or visitin', +but most of 'em used it to put in a good days wuk on de land what +Marster 'lowed 'em to use for deyselves. Some of 'em come to Athens and +help lay bricks on a new buildin' goin' up on Jackson Street. No Ma'am, +I done forgot what buildin' it wuz. + +"Us Niggers went to de white folkses churches. Mr. Louis Williams +preached at de Baptist Church on de fust Sundays, and Meferdiss +(Methodist) meetin's wuz on de second Sundays. Mr. Andy Bowden and Mr. +Scott Cowan wuz two of de Meferdiss preachers. Me and pa jined de +Baptis' Church. Ma wuz jes' a Meferdiss, but us all went to church +together. Dey had de baptizin's at de pool and dere wuz sho' a lot of +prayin' and shoutin' and singin' goin' on while de preacher done de +dippin' of 'em. De onliest one of dem baptizin' songs I can ricollect +now is, _Whar de Healin' Water Flows_. Dey waited 'til dey had a crowd +ready to be baptized and den dey tuk a whole Sunday for it and had a big +dinner on de ground at de church. + +"De sho' 'nough big days wuz dem camp meetin' days. White folkses and +Niggers all went to de same camp meetin's, and dey brung plenty 'long to +eat--big old loafs of light bread what had been baked in de skillets. De +night before dey sot it in de ovens to rise and by mawnin' it had done +riz most to de top of de deep old pans. Dey piled red coals all 'round +de ovens and when dat bread got done it wuz good 'nough for anybody. De +tables wuz loaded wid barbecued pigs and lambs and all de fried chicken +folkses could eat, and all sorts of pies and cakes wuz spread out wid de +other goodies. + +"Evvy plantation gen'ally had a barbecue and big dinner for Fourth of +July, and when sev'ral white famblies went in together, dey did have +high old times tryin' to see which one of 'em could git deir barbecue +done and ready to eat fust. Dey jus' et and drunk all day. No Ma'am, us +didn't know nuffin' 'bout what dey wuz celebratin' on Fourth of July, +'cept a big dinner and a good time. + +"When slaves got married, de man had to ax de gal's ma and pa for her +and den he had to ax de white folkses to 'low 'em to git married. De +white preacher married 'em. Dey hold right hands and de preacher ax de +man: 'Do you take dis gal to do de bes' you kin for her?' and if he say +yes, den dey had to change hands and jump over de broomstick and dey wuz +married. Our white folkses wuz all church folkses and didn't 'low no +dancin' at weddin's but dey give 'em big suppers when deir slaves got +married. If you married some gal on another place, you jus' got to see +her on Wednesday and Sadday nights and all de chilluns b'longed to de +gal's white folkses. You had to have a pass to go den, or de +patterollers wuz sho' to git you. Dem patterollers evermore did beat up +slaves if dey cotched 'em off dey own Marster's place 'thout no pass. If +Niggers could out run 'em and git on deir home lines dey wuz safe. + +"On our place when a slave died dey washed de corpse good wid plenty of +hot water and soap and wropt it in a windin' sheet, den laid it out on +de coolin' board and spread a snow white sheet over de whole business, +'til de coffin wuz made up. De windin' sheet wuz sorter lak a bed sheet +made extra long. De coolin' board wuz made lak a ironin' board 'cept it +had laigs. White folkses wuz laid out dat way same as Niggers. De +coffins wuz made in a day. Dey tuk de measurin' stick and measured de +head, de body, and de footses and made de coffin to fit dese +measurements. If it wuz a man what died, dey put a suit of clothes on +him before dey put him in de coffin. Dey buried de 'omans in da windin' +sheets. When de Niggers got from de fields some of 'em went and dug a +grave. Den dey put de coffin on de oxcart and carried it to de +graveyard whar dey jus' had a burial dat day. Dey waited 'bout two +months sometimes before dey preached de fun'ral sermon. For the fun'ral +dey built a brush arbor in front of de white folkses church, and de +white preacher preached de fun'ral sermon, and white folkses would come +lissen to slave fun'rals. De song most sung at fun'rals wuz _Hark from +de Tomb_. De reason dey had slave fun'rals so long atter de burial wuz +to have 'em on Sunday or some other time when de crops had been laid by +so de other slaves could be on hand. + +"When white folkses died deir fun'rals wuz preached before dey wuz +buried. Dat wuz de onliest diff'unce in de way dey buried de whites and +de Niggers. Warn't nobody embalmed dem days and de white folkses wuz +buried in a graveyard on de farm same as de Niggers wuz, and de same +oxcart took 'em all to de graveyard. + +"Our Marster done de overseein' at his place hisself, and he never had +no hired overseer. Nobody never got a lickin' on our plantation lessen +dey needed it bad, but when Marster did whup 'em dey knowed dey had been +whupped. Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' on our place and us all +knowed better'n to take what didn't b'long to us, 'cause Old Marster +sho' did git atter Niggers what stole. If one Nigger did kill another +Nigger, dey tuk him and locked him in da jailhouse for 30 days to make +his peace wid God. Evvy day de preacher would come read de Bible to him, +and when de 30 days wuz up, den dey would hang him by de neck 'til he +died. De man what done de hangin' read de Bible to de folkses what wuz +gathered 'round dar while de murderer wuz a-dyin'. + +"Its de devil makes folkses do bad, and dey all better change and serve +God-a-Mighty, so as he kin save 'em before its too late. I b'lieve +folkses 'haved better dem days dan dey does now. Marstar made 'em be +good 'round his place. + +"When us turned Marster's watch dogs loose at night, dey warn't nothin' +could come 'round dat place. Dey had to be kept chained up in de +daytime. Sometimes Marster let us take his dogs and go huntin' and dey +wuz de best 'possum trailers 'round dem parts. When dey barked up a +'simmon tree, us allus found a 'possum or two in dat tree. Sometimes +atter us cotched up lots of 'em, Marster let us have a 'possum supper. +Baked wid plenty of butter and 'tatoes and sprinkled over wid red +pepper, dey is mighty good eatments. My mouf's jus' a-waterin' 'cause +I'm thinkin' 'bout 'possums. + +"Yes Ma'am, us had corn shuckin's, and dey wuz big old times. Evvybody +from plantations miles 'round would take time out to come. Sometimes de +big piles of corn would make a line most a half a mile long, but when +all de Niggers got at dat corn de shucks sho' would fly and it wouldn't +be so long before all de wuk wuz done and dey would call us to supper. +Dere wuz barbecue and chickens, jus' a plenty for all de Niggers, and +corn bread made lak reg'lar light bread and sho' enough light bread too, +and lots of 'tato pies and all sorts of good things. + +"Atter da War wuz over, dey jus' turned de slaves loose widout nothin'. +Some stayed on wid Old Marster and wukked for a little money and dey +rations. + +"Pa went down on the Hubbard place and wukked for 40 dollars a year and +his rations. Ma made cloth for all de folkses 'round 'bout. Dey fotched +deir thread and she wove de cloth for 50 cents a day. If us made a good +crop, us wuz all right wid plenty of corn, peas, 'tatoes, cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, all de hog meat us needed, and chickens too. Us +started out widout nothin' and had to go in debt to de white folkses at +fust but dat wuz soon paid off. I never had no chance to go to school +and git book larnin'. All de time, us had to wuk in de fields. + +"Ku Kluxers went 'round wid dem doughfaces on heaps atter de War. De +Niggers got more beatin's from 'em dan dey had ever got from deir Old +Marsters. If a Nigger sassed white folkses or kilt a hoss, dem Kluxers +sho' did evermore beat him up. Dey never touched me for I stayed out of +deir way, but dey whupped my pa one time for bein' off his place atter +dark. When dey turned him loose, he couldn't hardly stand up. De Yankees +jus' about broke up de Ku Kluxers, but day sho' wuz bad on Niggers while +dey lasted. + +"I wuz 'bout 21 years old when us married. Us never had no chillun and +my wife done been daid for all dese long years, I don't know how many. I +can't wuk and I jus' has to stay hyar wid my daid brother's chillun. Dey +is mighty good to me, but I gits awful lonesome sometimes. + +"No Ma'am, I ain't never seed but one ghost. Late one night, I wuz +comin' by de graveyard and seed somethin' dat looked lak a dog 'ceppin' +it warn't no dog. It wuz white and went in a grave. It skeered me so I +made tracks gittin' 'way from dar in a hurry and I ain't never bean +'round no more graveyards at night. + +"When I passes by de old graveyard on Jackson Street, I 'members lots +of folkses whats buried dar, bofe white folkses and slaves too, for den +white folkses put dey slaves whar dey aimed to be buried deyselves. Dat +sho' used to be a fine graveyard. + +"Us all gwine to git together someday when us all leaves dis old world. +I'm ready to go; jus' a-waitin' for de Lord to call me home, and I ain't +skeered to face de Lord who will judge us all de same, 'cause I done +tried to do right, and I ain't 'fraid to die." + +Uncle Willis was tired and sent a little boy to the store for milk. As +the interviewer took her departure he said: "Good-bye Missy. God bless +you. Jus' put yourself in de hands of de Lord, for dey ain't no better +place to be." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +MARY COLBERT, Age 84 +168 Pearl Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + + +(NOTE: This is the first story we have had in which the client did not +use any dialect. Mary Colbert's grammar was excellent. Her skin was +almost white, and her hair was quite straight. + +None of us know what a "deep" slave was. It may have the same meaning as +outlandish Negro. The "outlandish Negroes" were those newly arrived +Negroes who had just come in from any country outside of the United +States of America, and were untrained. They were usually just from +Africa. + +Sarah H. Hall) + +With the thermometer registering 93 degrees in the shade on a +particularly humid July day, the visitor trudged up one steep, rocky +alley and down another, hesitantly negotiated shaky little bridges over +several ravines, scrambled out of a ditch, and finally arrived at the +address of Mary Colbert. It was the noon hour. A Negro man had tied his +mule under an apple tree in one corner of Mary's yard. The animal was +peacefully munching hay while his master enjoyed lunch from a battered +tin bucket. Asked if Mary was at home, the man replied: "Yessum, jus' +call her at de door." + +A luxuriant Virginia creeper shaded the front porch of Mary's five-room +frame house, where a rap on the front door brought the response: "Here I +am, honey! Come right on through the house to the back porch." The aged +mulatto woman was hanging out clothes on a line suspended between two +peach trees. To the inquiry for Mary, she answered: "Yes, Honey, this is +Mary. They say I am old, childish, and hellish; anyway, this is Mary." + +"Dear, let's go in my parlor," she suggested in a cultured voice. "I +wouldn't dare go out on the front porch wearing this dirty dress. It +simply isn't my way of living." Mary is about five feet tall and wears +her straight, snowy-white hair in a neat knot low on the back of her +head. The sparkle in her bright brown eyes bespeaks a more youthful +spirit than her wrinkled and almost white face would indicate. She was +wearing a soiled print dress, brown cotton hose, and high-topped black +shoes. In remarkably good English for one of her race she told that her +daughter's family lives with her, "so that I won't be right by myself." +Then she began her story: + +"Honey, what is it you want me to tell you. Where was I born? Oh, my +child! I was born right here in dear old hilly Athens. Yes, that's where +I was born. Polly Crawford was my mother, and she belonged to Major +William H. Crawford before he gave her to his son, Marse John Crawford. +Now about my father, that is the dream. He died when I was just a little +child. They said he was Sandy Thomas and that he was owned by Marster +Obadiah Thomas, who lived in Oglethorpe County. All I can remember about +my grandparents is this: When I found my grandma, Hannah Crawford, she +was living on Major Crawford's plantation, where Crawford, Georgia, is +now. Grandma was a little, bitty woman; so little that she wore a number +one shoe. She was brought here from Virginia to be a field hand, but she +was smart as a whip, and lived to be 118 years old. I used to tell my +mother that I wished I was named Hannah for her, and so Mother called me +Mary Hannah. + +"I can't bring my grandfather to mind very clearly. I do remember that +my mother took me to Penfield to see him, and told me if I wasn't a good +little girl he would surely whip me. They called him 'Uncle Campfire', +because he had such a fiery temper. For a living, after he got to be an +old man, he made cheers (chairs), but for the life of me I don't know +who he belonged to, because Major Crawford sold him before I was born. + +"There were five of us children: Nat, Solomon, Susannah, Sarah, and +myself. Marse John gave Solomon to his daughter, Miss Fannie, when she +married Marse William H. Gerdine. Susannah belonged to Miss Rosa Golden, +and Sarah and I belonged to the other Miss Fannie. She was Marse John's +sister. Nat was Marse John's house boy, and our mother was his cook. We +children just played around the yard until we were large enough to work. + +"Yes, my dear, I was born in Marse John's back yard. He lived in a +two-story frame house on Dougherty Street, back of Scudder's School. The +two slave houses and the kitchen were set off from the house a little +piece out in the yard. It was the style then to have the kitchen built +separate from the dwelling house. + +"Lord bless your life, Honey! We didn't live in log cabins, as you call +them. There were two slave houses. The one Aggie lived in was two-story, +the other one had just one story and they were both weatherboarded like +Marse John's own house. The grown folks slept on beds made with tall oak +posts. There were no metal springs then and the beds were corded +instead. The straw-stuffed mattress ticks were made with plain and +striped material, and pillows were filled with cotton. We children slept +on trundle beds, which were pushed up under the big beds in the daytime, +and pulled out for us to sleep on at night. + +"No Ma'm, there was never any money given to me in slavery time. +Remember, Dear, when the yankees came through here, I was only ten years +old. Misses Fannie and Ann Crawford were Major Crawford's daughters, and +they kept house for Marse John. That morning in May I was wearing a +sleeveless apron, and they (Miss Fannie and Miss Ann) put a bag of gold +and silver, and some old greenback Confederate money in my apron and +told me to hold on to it. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann, both of them, patted +me on the head and said: 'Now, be a good little girl and don't move.' On +came the Blue Coats: they went all over the house searching everything +with their guns and swords shining and flashing. I was so scared the +sweat was running down my face in streams. Bless your life! When they +came to the bedroom where I was standing by a bed, holding that money +inside my apron, they didn't even glance at me the second time. Little +did they think that little slave girl had the money they were hunting +for. After the yankees were gone, I gave it all back to Miss Fannie, and +she didn't give me the first penny. If any of the money was given to my +mother she didn't tell me about it. + +"I am going to tell you the truth about what we had to eat, so listen +now. It was egg bread, biscuits, peas, potatoes--they they were called +'taters then--artichoke pickles, tea cakes, pies, and good old healthy +lye hominy. There was plenty of meat served, but I was not allowed to +eat that, as I was never a very strong child. I was a fool about stale +bread, such as biscuit, cornbread, and light bread. Mother was a fine +cook and her battercakes would just melt in your mouth. Of course, you +know we had no stoves in those days and the cooking was done in open +fireplaces, in ovens and pots. Oh yes! We had a garden. There was only +one on the place and enough was raised in it to feed all of the people +living there. + +"I don't remember eating 'possums, rabbits, squirrels and fish until I +went to Jackson, Mississippi, with Miss Rosa. There were plenty of those +meats in Mississippi and I was then getting old enough and healthy +enough to be allowed to eat them." + +At this point, Mary insisted on serving lunch for her visitor, saying +that she had lived with white people and knew how to cook. After a +polite refusal, the story was continued: + +"I was laughing at myself just the other day about those homespun +dresses and sleeveless aprons I wore as a child. I reckon that was a +sign you were coming to ask me about those things. I kept one of those +dresses of mine until my own baby girl wore it out, and now I am sorry I +let her wear it, for it would be so nice to have it to show you. We wore +just a one piece costume in summer and had calico and muslin dresses for +Sunday. Wintertime, I wore a balmoral petticoat, osnaburg drawers, and +er-r-r. Well, Jacob! I never thought I would live to see the day I'd +forget what our dresses were called. Anyway they were of woolen material +in a checked design, and were made with a full skirt gathered on to a +deep yoke. Uncle Patrick Hull--he was a deep slave belonging to Mr. A.L. +Hull--made all the shoes for Marse John's slaves. We all wore brass-toed +brogans. + +"Oh, good! I should smile! A better man than Marse John never lived. +Nobody better not beat his slaves. Marse John was the postmaster. He +married Miss Sallie Eden, and everybody said she was mighty good, but I +never knew her for she died when I was a baby. Marse John and his wife, +Miss Sallie, had three children. They were: Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa and +Marse Allie. Miss Annie Crawford, who teaches in the school here, is +Marse Allie's daughter. She don't know me so well, but I know mighty +well who she is. I think I have already told you that Misses Fannie and +Rosa kept house for their brother, Marse John, after their mother died. + +"Darling, please get this right: the plantation is a dream to me. If I +should try to tell you about it, I am sure it would be only what my +mother told me about it in the years long after the surrender. Whether +the plantation was the property of Marse John or his father, William H. +Crawford, I don't know, but I am sure there was an overseer, and I am +quite sure it was a very large plantation. You know the town of Crawford +was named for my white folks. The only thing I can be sure of, from my +own memory, is of the things that took place here in Athens. + +"Breakfast had to be served promptly at 7:30. When that 9:00 o'clock +bell sounded at night, God bless your soul! You had to be in your +house, and you had to be in bed by 10:00 o'clock. Marse John never +punished but just two of his slaves that I can remember, but I have seen +them get several good whippings. They were Ned and William, Aggie's and +Lucy's boys, and Marse John cowhided them for misbehaving. + +"There were jails during slavery time, but Marse John kept his slaves +straight himself and did not allow any of them to be taken to jail. I +have never seen slaves sold, but I have seen droves of them marching by, +being taken to Watkinsville to be sold. + +"No! No! Oh! No! You had better not dare let white people know that you +could read, in those days. I remember one colored man, Alfred Evans, who +used to read the Bible during slavery time. All the learning I have, I +got after we were made free. There were two colored churches in Athens; +one was Baptist and the other was Methodist. Yankee ladies came down +from the North and taught us to read and write. I have often considered +writing the history of my life and finally decided to undertake it, but +I found that it was more of a job than I had expected it to be, and then +too, I would have to tell too much, so I thought best to leave it alone. + +"I went to church but very little during slavery time. However, I dearly +loved to go to Sunday school, and never missed an opportunity of +attending. One of our Sunday school songs was worded something like +this: + + 'I want to be an angel, + And with the angels stand.' + +"My favorite song began: + + 'Around the Throne in Heaven, + Ten Thousand children stand.' + +"OO! Yes, I know how they buried folks in slavery time. For caskets they +used straight, white pine boxes that they called coffins. They didn't +have funerals like they do now. A preacher would say a few words at the +grave and then he prayed, and after that everybody sang something like: +'I will arise and go to Jesus.' I was a singer in my younger days. + +"All I remember 'bout Negroes going off to the North was when their +masters took them along on trips to wait on them. Bless your life! That +was one time when the ones that could read and write had the advantage. +They were usually chosen to go along so if anything happened to the +Marster on the trip, they could write back home. I never saw patrollers, +but I heard that they used to beat up Negroes who were caught away from +home without a pass. Marse John kept his slaves supplied with passes at +all necessary times. + +"Not all the slaves had to work on Saturday afternoons. This was their +time of the week to get together and have a little fun around their +quarters. Sunday mornings they went to church, as a rule, and on Sunday +nights they visited each other and held prayer meetings in their homes. +Don't get me wrong. They had to have passes to go visiting and attend +those prayer meetings. + +"Christmas time was a holiday season for slaves, and they had everything +good you could want to eat. Listen, Child, I am telling you the truth. +They even had pumpkin pie. Oh, yes! Santa Claus came to see slave +children. Once I got too smart for my own good. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann +had told us to go to bed early. They said if we weren't asleep when +Santa Claus got there, he would go away and never come back. Well, that +night I made up my mind to stay awake and see Santa Claus. Miss Fannie +and Miss Ann slipped into our quarters right easy and quiet and were +filling up stockings with candy, dolls, and everything you can imagine. +While they were doing that, they turned around and saw me with my eyes +wide open. Right there my Santa Claus ended. We didn't have any special +observance of New Year's Day. It was the same as any other day. + +"Mother said they had cornshuckings, quiltings, and cotton pickings on +the plantation. She told me a good deal about the cornshuckings: about +how they selected a general, whose job was to get up on top of the corn +pile and holler at the top of his voice, leading the cornshucking song, +while the others all shucked the corn and sang. After the corn was all +shucked there were always fine eats. I can remember the quiltings +myself. The women went from one house to another and quilted as many as +12 quilts in one night sometimes. After the quilts were all finished +they had a big spread of good food too. Now it takes a whole month to +quilt one quilt and nothing to eat. + +"What games did we play? Let me see. Oh! yes, one of them was played to +the rhyme: + + 'Chickimy, chickimy, Craney Crow + I went to the well to wash my toe, + When I got back my chicken was gone + What time, Old Witch?' + +"Then we would run and chase each other. Another game was played to the +counting-out by the rhyme that started: + + 'Mollie, Mollie Bright, three-score and ten.' + +"Honey, there is no use to ask me about Raw Head and Bloody Bones. When +folks started talking about that, I always left the room. It is a shame +how folks do frighten children trying to make them get quiet and go to +sleep. I don't believe in ha'nts and ghosts. Since I have been grown, I +have been around so many dead folks I have learned that the dead can't +harm you; its the living that make the trouble. + +"When his slaves were taken sick, Marse John always called in a doctor. +An old woman, who was known as 'Aunt Fannie,' was set aside to nurse +sick slaves. Dr. Joe Carlton was Marse John's doctor. What I am going to +tell you is no fairy tale. Once I was so sick that Marse John called in +Dr. Carlton, Dr. Richard M. Smith, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. James +Long, before they found out what was wrong with me. I had inflammatory +rheumatism and I wore out two and a half pairs of crutches before I +could walk good again. Now, Dr. Crawford Long is a great and famous man +in history, but it is sure true that he doctored on this old Negro many +years ago. + +"Honey, don't flatter me. Don't you know a little girl 10 years old +can't remember everything that went on that far back. A few things they +dosed the slaves with when they were sick was horehound tea, garlic +mixed with whiskey, and the worm-few (vermifuge?) tea that they gave to +Negro children for worms. That worm-few dose was given in April. +Asafetida was used on us at all times and sage tea was considered a +splendid medicine. + +"When news came that Negroes had been freed there was a happy jubilee +time. Marse John explained the new freedom to his slaves and we were +glad and sorry too. My mother stayed with Marse John until he died. I +was still a child and had never had to do anything more than play dolls, +and keep the children in the yard. Lord, Honey! I had a fine time those +days. + +"It wasn't so long after the surrender before schools for Negroes were +opened. It looked like they went wild trying to do just like their white +folks had done. As for buying homes, I don't know where they would have +gotten the money to pay for homes and land. + +"At the time I married I was a washerwoman for the white folks. My first +husband was Isaac Dixon, who came from some place in Alabama and had +been owned by Dr. Lipscomb, the chancelor of the university. Dr. +Lipscomb married us in the colored Methodist Church, and that night the +church was crowded to overflowing. I wore a white dress made with a long +train; that was the style then. After the ceremony, my mother served +cake and wine at her house. Our six children were prettier than you, but +only three of them lived to get grown. Our white friends named our +children. My first husband died and then I married Jones Colbert, who +belonged to Marse Fletcher Colbert of Madison County. We just went +around to the preacher's house and got married. Jones was an old man +when I married him. He was a preacher. He is dead now and so are all my +children except one. I have one grandson, and this is the shameful part +about him; his mother won't married when he was born, but of course she +married later. + +"Now I am going to tell you the truth as I see it. Abraham Lincoln was +an instrument of God sent to set us free, for it was God's will that we +should be freed. I never did hitch my mind on Jeff Davis; like the +children of Israel, he had his time to rule. Booker T. Washington! Well, +now I didn't give him a thought. He had to do his part. His mistress had +taught him to read. + +"Why did I join the church? Well, when the white folks sent their help +off to Mississippi trying to keep them slaves, my sister and I went with +Miss Rosa Crawford to Jackson. Before I left home my mother gave me an +alabaster doll and told me to be a good girl and pray every night. Well, +I never saw so many slave-houses in my life as I saw in Mississippi. +Every night when I heard a colored man named Ben praying in his room +that made me think of what my mother had told me and I grew more and +more homesick for her. Finally one night I crept into Uncle Ben's room +and asked him to tell me about God, and he did. After that, every night +I went into his room and we prayed together. Yes, Honey, I found God in +Jackson, Mississippi, and I joined the church just as soon as I could +after I got back to my mother and dear old Athens. + +"Yes, Honey, I was raised and loved by my own white folks and, when I +grew to be old enough and large enough, I worked for them. I have been +with, or worked for, white folks all my life and, just let me tell you, +I had the best white folks in the world, but it was by God's plan that +the Negroes were set free." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 1 +Ex. Slave #21 +(with Photograph)] + +[HW: "JOHN COLE"] + +Subject: A SLAVE REMEMBERS +District: No. 1 W.P.A +Editor: Edward Ficklen +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee +[MAY 8 1937] + + +A SLAVE REMEMBERS + +The front door of a little vine-clad cottage on Billups Street, in +Athens, Georgia quaked open and John Cole, ex-slave confronted a +"gov'mint man." + +[Illustration] + +Yes, he was the son of Lucius Cole and Betsy Cole, was in his 86th year, +and remembered the time "way back" when other gov'mint men with their +strange ways had descended on Athens. + +And far beyond that, back to the time when they had tried him out as a +scullion boy in the big town house where his mother was the cook, but it +seemed that the trays always escaped his clumsy young hands. + +So "Marse Henry" had put him on the 200 acre Oglethorpe plantation as +apprentice to training of the farm horses whose large unmanageableness +he found more manageable than the dainty china of the banker's house. He +simply had followed more after his father, the carriage driver than his +mother, the cook. + +Of course, all fifteen of the hands worked from sun-up to sun-down, but +his aunt was the plantation cook, and it was not so bad there. + +The night brought no counsel, but it brought better. Stretch cow-hides +over cheese-boxes and you had tambourines. Saw bones from off a cow, +knock them together, and call it [HW: a drum]. Or use broom-straws, on +fiddle-strings, and you had your entire orchestra. + +Grow older, and get by the gates with a pass (you had to have a pass or +the paddle-rollers would get you,) and you had you a woman. If the woman +wasn't willing, a good, hard-working hand could always get the master to +make the girl marry him--whether or no, willy-nilly. + +If a hand were noted for raising up strong black bucks, bucks that would +never "let the monkey get them" while in the high-noon hoeing, he would +be sent out as a species of circuit-rider to the other plantations--to +plantations where there was over-plus of "worthless young nigger gals". +There he would be "married off" again--time and again. This was thrifty +and saved any actual purchase of new stock. + +Always on Saturday afternoon you would have till "first dark" for +base-ball, and from first dark till Sunday-go-to meeting for drinking +and dancing. Sunday you could go to the colored church (with benefit of +white clergy) or you could go to the white church just like real class +except you sat in the rear. + +No, it was not a bad life. + +You usually weren't sick, but if you were sick, it afforded you the +luxury of tea. Turpentine and caster oil composed the entire _materia +medica_. Turpentine was used for sore throats, cuts and bruises. Castor +oil was used for everything else except a major fracture which called +for the master sending in a doctor to the quarters. + +Yes, the gov'mint men with the blue uniforms and the shiny brass buttons +had descended from the North on Athens--descended in spite of the +double-barrelled cannon that the little master and the little master's +men had tried on them. The blue clad invaders had come in despite of the +quick breast-works, and the new-fangled cannon, and Bob Toombs boast +that he "could beat the damn Yankees with corn-stalks before breakfast". +(If only they had fought that way--if only they had [HW: not] needed +grape-shot had enough to invent cannon mouths that spoke at the same +time and were meant to mow down men with a long chain--if only they had +not been able to fight long after Bull Run, and after breakfast!) + +Yes, the Yankees had come over the classic hills of Athens (Athens that +had so many hills that she would have been named Rome except for her +first land-grant college,) had left, and had come again to stay, and to +bring freedom to John Cole and his kind. + +This was six months after Lee and his palandins had laid down the +sword--the gallant, the unstained (but, alas, claimed Meade's batteries) +the unconstitutional sword. Six months had gone and freedom had come. + +But John Cole, slave of Henry Hull, the banker, found that his freedom +was the freedom of "the big oak"--Athens famed tree-that-owns-itself. He +was free, but he had no way to go anywhere. He was rooted in the soil +and would stay fast rooted. He worked on with his master for 20 years, +without pay. + +Did he believe, back in slavery time in "signs" and in "sayings"--that +the itching foot meant the journey to new lands--that the hound's +midnight threnody meant murder? + +No, when he was a young buck and had managed the bad horses, he had had +no such beliefs. No, he was not superstitious. If the foot itched +something ought to be put on it (or taken off it)--and as to the hounds +yelping, nobody ever knew what dark-time foolishness a hound-dog might +be up to. + +But he was old, now. Death always comes in the afternoon. He does +believe in things that have been proved. He does believe that a +squinch-owl's screeching ("V-o-o-o-d-o-o! W-h-o-o-o? Y-ou-u!") is a sure +sign of death. Lowing of a cow in afternoon Georgia meadows means death +mighty close. If death come down to a house, better stop clock and put +white cloth on mirrors. No loud talking permitted. Better for any nigger +to bow low down to death.... + +To what factors did he attribute his long life, queried the gov'mint +man. + +Long living came from leaving off smoking and drinking. + +Would he have a nickle cigar? + +He would. + +Yes, he was feeling quite tol'able, thank you. But he believed now in +the owl and the cow and the clock. + +In the morning-time one lives, but death always come in the afternoon. +Better for any nigger, anywhere, to bow low down to death. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +JULIA COLE, Age 78 +169 Yonah Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Corry Fowler +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +A knock on the door of the comfortable little frame house which Julia +Cole shares with her daughter, Rosa, brought the response, "Who dat?" +Soon Rosa appeared. "Come in Honey and have a cheer," was her greeting +and she added that Julia had "stepped across de street to visit 'round a +little." Soon the neighborhood was echoing and reverberating as the +call, "Tell Aunt Julia somebody wants to see her at her house," was +repeated from cabin to cabin. A few moments later Julia walked in. +Yellowish gingercake in color, and of rather dumpy figure, she presented +a clean, neat appearance. She and her daughter, who cooks for a +dentist's family, take much pride in their attractively furnished home. +Julia was of pleasant manner and seemed anxious to tell all that she +could. It is doubtful if Rosa made much progress with her ironing in an +adjoining room, for every few minutes she came to the door to remind her +mother of some incident that she had heard her tell before. + +Julia began her story by saying: "I was born in Monroe, Georgia and +b'longed to Marster John Grant. My Mamma was Mittie Johnson, and she +died de year 'fore de war ended. I don't 'member my Pa. Mamma had four +chillun. Richard and Thomas Grant was my brothers, but me and my sister +Hattie was Johnsons. Marse John had a big plantation and a heap of +slaves. Dey was rich, his folks was. Dey is de folks dat give Grant's +Park to Atlanta. + +"Dey called my grandpa, 'Uncle Abram.' Atter he had wukked hard in de +field all day, he would jus' lay down on a bench at night and sleep +widout pullin' off his clothes. Us had home-made beds in de cabins +widout no paint on 'em. Evvything slaves had was home-made, jus' +wooden-legged things. Even de coffins was made at home out of pine wood. +Now me, I didn't sleep in de cabin much. I slept on a little trundle bed +up at de big house. In de daytime my bed was pushed back up under one of +de big beds. + +"Marse John's son, Marse Willie Grant, blowed de bugle in de mornin's by +4 o'clock to git de slaves up in time to be in de fields by daybreak. +When slaves got too old to wuk, dey took keer of de chillun in a house +down below de kitchen. Mamma wukked in de field when she was able. +Nobody on our place had to wuk in de fields on Sadday evenin's. Dat was +de time de 'omans washed deir clothes and cleaned up. + +"Chillun didn't have much to do. Us loved to hunt for turkey nests +'cause dey give us a teacake for evvy turkey egg us fetched in. Chillun +et in de yard at de big house, whar dey give us plenty of meat and +cornbread wid good vegetables for dinner. For breakfast and supper, us +had mostly buttermilk and cornbread. On Sundays us had bread made from +wheat flour and sopped good old syrup wid it. Sometimes Marse John would +give us 'mission to kill little pigs at night and broil 'em over de +coals in our yards, and how us did enjoy 'em! I ain't never suffered for +nothin' in all my life, 'cause de Grants was mighty good white folks. De +old White home on Prince Avenue was deir summer home. When dey built +it, woods was all 'round and dere warn't many houses in dat section. + +"Us had plenty of clothes made out of homespun checks, and Marse John +give us brass-toed shoes. Our dresses was well sewed and made wid belts +to 'em. Nobody went 'bout half naked on our plantation lak some of de +old folks f'um other farms talks 'bout. Us had good well-made clothes, +even if dey was made out of common cloth. + +"Nobody on our plantation run away to de North, and de paddyrollers +didn't git nobody at our place neither. Marse John was too good to +evvybody for his slaves to want to cut up and run 'way and do things to +make de paddyrollers hunt 'em down. Dey didn't have no jails 'cause dey +didn't need none on our place. Sometimes Marse John made a colored man +named Uncle Jim Cooper give 'em a good whuppin' when dey needed it. + +"When us was sick, dey give us herbs and things of dat sort. In de +springtime, dey give us jerusalem oak seed in syrup for nine mornin's +and by den us was allus rid of de worms. Dey 'tended to slave chillun so +good and dutiful dat dere warn't many of 'em died, and I don't never +'member no doctor comin' to my Mamma's house. + +"Old Missus used to teach us in da blue back speller, and when I didn't +know my lesson she made me run f'um de house to de gyarden gate for +punishment. De more words I missed; de more times I had to run. Us had +our own church services on de plantation under home-made brush arbors, +and our colored preacher was Uncle Charles Cooper. + +"Once some sojers come by our place lookin' for Marse John. He had done +hid in de loft of de meat house and told evvybody on de place dey +better not tell whar he was. Dey didn't find Marse John, but dey did +find his son, Marse Willie, and dey tuk him 'long wid 'em. Marse Willie +was de only chile dat Marster and Missus had and it nearly killed 'em +for him to be tuk 'way from 'em. When Mr. Lincoln's general got to our +place he was a-ridin' a big red hoss dat sho' was a grand animal. Dem +sojers went in de smokehouses and stores evvywhar and tuk what dey +wanted. + +"Not long 'fore de war ended, my Mamma tuk a 'lapse f'um measles and +died. 'Fore she died, she sont for Marse John and told him what she +wanted done, and he done jus' what she axed. She give him my brothers, +Richard and Thomas, and told him to take dem two boys and to make men +out of 'em by makin' 'em wuk hard. I jus' lak to have died when my Mamma +died. Dey carried her to de graveyard and put her down in de grave and I +jus' couldn't help it; I jumped right down in dat grave wid her, and dey +had to take me out. My brothers said I was plum crazy dat day. + +"Atter de war was over, Marster moved his family to Atlanta on Peachtree +Street. His grandson dat was born dat year died not long ago. Dey didn't +have no farm in Atlanta and so dey didn't need all deir old servants. My +sister Hattie was a baby and Auntie tuk her to Atlanta wid de Grants. + +"I don't know what 'come of de others on Marster's farm. I had to git in +a covered wagon and come wid my Uncle Jordan Johnson to Athens. I didn't +want to leave, and I hid down under our things in de wagon when dey made +me come. When us crossed de river, I was sho' us was 'bout to git +drownded. One time atter dat us tuk a trip to Madison to see de old +breastplates (breastworks) dar. + +"My brother Tom got to be captain of a colored troop dat went to de +Philippine Islands. Over dar de sojers kilt a big snake and et it all +but de head. He had dat thing stuffed and brought it home. Atter he left +de army, he got a job in de Atlanta Post Office whar he wukked 'til he +was 'tired. + +"I was hired out to de Marks family and stayed dar for years and dat was +a mighty good place to be hired out. I was married twice. Me and Crit +Clayton married at home. I ain't never seed nothin' lak dat pretty +flowerdy weddin' dress dat I wore and I had de prettiest hat and things +dat I ever seed. My next husband was Andrew Cole--He was Rosa's Pa. I +forgits de name of de white preacher dat married us when us went to his +house and axed him to. Four of our seven chillun is still livin'. + +"Dey tells me our old big house near Monroe is standin' yit, and I sho' +do wish I could see it once more 'fore I die, but since I broke my hip a +few years ago I jus' don't ride in dem automobiles. No Ma'am, I don't +limp. De Lord was good to heal my hip and I ain't takin' no chances on +breakin' no more of my bones." + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +MARTHA COLQUITT, Age 85 +190 Lyndon Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Federal Writers' Project +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + + +The aged Negress leaned heavily on her cane as she shuffled about her +tiny porch in the waning sunlight of a cold January day. An airplane +writing an advertising slogan in letters of smoke high in the sky was +receiving but indifferent attention from Aunt Martha. Sha shivered and +occasionally leaned against a post until a paroxysm of coughing +subsided. "What would you have thought of that if it had suddenly +appeared in the sky when you were a child?" she was asked. "It would +have scared me plum to death," was the response. "I didn't come out here +just to see dat," she continued, "I didn't have nothin' to make no fire +wid, and I had to git out in de sunshine 'cause it wuz too cold to stay +in de house. It sho' is mighty bad to have to go to bed wid cold feet +and cough all night long." + +Her visitor could not resist the impulse to say, "Let's make a trade, +Aunt Martha! If I give you a little money will you buy wood; then while +you enjoy the fire will you think back over your life and tell me about +your experiences when I come back tomorrow?" "Bless de Lord! I sho' will +be glad to tell you de truf 'bout anything I can 'member," was her quick +reply as she reached for the money. + + +[TR: Return Visit] + +The next day Aunt Martha was in bed, slowly eating a bowl of potlicker +and turnip greens into which cornbread had been crumbled. + +"My ches' hurt so bad I couldn't git up today," was her greeting, "but +set right dar by my bed and I can talk all right, long as I don't have +to walk 'bout none. Walkin' makes me cough." + +Soon the bowl was empty and when she had wiped her mouth with the sleeve +of her nightgown, Aunt Martha began: + +"When I wuz born, my ma b'longed to Marse Billie Glenn and us lived on +his big plantation way down below Lexin'ton. My pa wuz Anderson +Mitchell. He come from Milledgeville and b'longed to Mr. D. Smith. The +Smithies lived close by Marse Billie's place. My ma wuz Healon Mitchell. +I don't know what her last name wuz 'fore she married. She wuz born in +Virginny, and her and my grandma wuz sold and brought to Georgia when ma +wuz a baby. Grandma never did see none of her other chillun or her +husband no more, and us never did hear nothin' 'bout 'em. + +"Ma had four chillun. Lucy wuz my onlies' sister. Mr. Davenport bought +her and she growed up at his place, what wuz called 'De Glade.' It wuz a +big fine place at Point Peter, Georgia. Lucy married a Taylor. + +"My brother, Isaac, wuz raised at Mr. Hamilton's place at Point Peter. +After he growed up, he worked in Atlanta and bought him a home dar. He +got in a fight wid a man what had done stobbed his mule, and de man hurt +Isaac so bad he went crazy and died in de 'sylum at Milledgeville, but +dey took him back and buried him in Atlanta. + +"My other brother wuz Anderson Mitchell, and after freedom come he got +work in Athens at de compress. His boss man moved to Augusta and took +Anderson wid him to work in de compress dar. One day somethin' blowed +up and he wuz scalded so bad it paralyzed him. Dey brought him back +here, but he soon died. + +"Ma's house was right on de edge of Marse Billie's yard, 'cause she was +de cook. Grandma lived in de same house wid ma and us chillun, and she +worked in de loom house and wove cloth all de time. She wove de checkidy +cloth for de slaves clo'es, and she made flannel cloth too, leaseways, +it wuz part flannel. She made heaps of kinds of cloth. + +"Our beds had big home-made posties and frames, and us used ropes for +springs. Grandma brought her feather bed wid her from Virginny, and she +used to piece up a heap of quilts outen our ole clo'es and any kind of +scraps she could get a holt of. I don't know what de others had in dey +cabins 'cause ma didn't 'low her chillun to visit 'round de other +folkses none. + +"Ma's chillun all had vittals from de white folkses kitchen. After Marse +Billie's fambly done et and left de table, de cook wuz s'posed to take +what wuz left to feed de house niggers and her own chillun, and us did +have sho' 'nuff good vittals. All de other slave folks had day rations +weighed out to 'em every week and dey cooked in dey own cabins. When de +wheat wuz ground at de mill it made white flour, and shorts, and +seconds. Most of de shorts wuz weighed out in rations for de slave +folks. Now and den at Christmas and special times dey got a little white +flour. Dey liked cornbread for reg'lar eatin'. Dey wuz always lots of +hogs on Marse Billie's plantation, and his colored folkses had plenty of +side meat. Slaves never had no time to hunt in de day time, but dey sho' +could catch lots of 'possums at night, and dey knowed how to git catfish +at night too. + +"'Cross de road from de Big 'Ouse, Marse Billie had a big gyarden, and +he seed dat his help had plenty of somethin' good to bile. Dey won't no +separate gyardens. Dey didn't have no time to work no gyardens of dey +own. + +"In summertime us chillun wore just one piece of clo'es. It wuz a sack +apron. In winter grandma made us yarn underskirts and yarn drawers +buttoned down over our knees. Ma made our home-knit stockings. Dey +called our brass toed shoes 'brogans.' I don't speck you ever seed a +brass toed shoe! + +"Our Big 'Ouse sho' wuz one grand fine place. Why, it must have been as +big as de Mill Stone Baptist Church! It wuz all painted white wid green +blinds and had a big old high porch dat went nigh all 'round de house. + +"If I ever did hear what Marse Billie's wife wuz named, I done plum +clear forgot. Us called her 'Mist'ess' long as she lived and I don't +recollect hearin' her called nothin' else. Marster and Mist'ess never +had no little chillun whilst I was dar. Miss Lizzie wuz dey youngest +child and she wuz most grown when I wuz born. + +"Marse Billie's overseer lived in a four-room house up de road a piece +from the Big 'Ouse. Nobody thought 'bout none of Marse Billie's +overseers as pore white folkses. Every overseer he ever had wuz decent +and 'spectable. Course dey won't in de same class wid Marse Billie's +fambly, but dey was all right. Dey wuz four or five homes nigh our +plantation, but all of 'em b'longed to rich white folkses. If dey wuz +any pore white folkses 'round dar, us chillun never heared nothin' of +'em. + +"I don't know just how many slaves Marse Billie had, but dey sho' was a +drove of 'em. Sometimes he had 'em all git together in de back yard at +de Big 'Ouse, and dey just filled up de yard. + +"De overseer blowed a horn to wake 'em up just 'fore day, so as +everybody could cook, eat, and git out to de fields by sunrise. Dey quit +nigh sundown, in time for 'em to feed de stock, do de milkin', tend to +bringin' in de wood, and all sorts of other little jobs dat had to be +done 'fore it got too dark to see. Dey never wuz no work done at night +on our plantation. + +"If any of Marse Billie's help wuz whipped, I never knowed nothin' 'bout +it. Dey used to say dat if any of 'em didn't work right de overseer +would take 'em to de workshop. Us chillun never did know what happened +when dey took 'em to de workshop. It wuz too fur away for us to hear +what happened dar. De workshop was a big lone shed off to itself, whar +dey had da blacksmith place, and whar harness wuz mended, and all sorts +of fixin' done to de tools and things. + +"Us never heared of no jail. Marse Billie bossed his place and us never +knowed 'bout no trouble. De workshop wuz de nighest thing to a jail or a +court dat anybody on our plantation knowed anything 'bout. Us never seed +nobody in chains 'til long atter de War, when us wuz livin' in +Lexin'ton, and Mr. Jim Smith come through dar wid some colored folkses +all chained up, but us never did know how come dey wuz chained. + +"No slave never runned away fron Marse Billie's plantation. Dey never +even wanted to try. Dey wuz always 'fraid dey might not be able to take +as good keer of deyselves as Marse Billie did for 'em, and dey didn't +know what would happen to 'em off de plantation. + +"I heared 'em talkin' 'bout paterollers, but I never did see one. +Folkses said dey would git you and beat you if dey cotch you off de +plantation whar you b'longed 'thout no pass. If any of Marse Billie's +slaves got cotched by de paterollers, I never knowed nothin' 'bout it. + +"I never heared of no trouble twixt de white folkses and dey colored +folkses. Grandma and ma never 'lowed us to go to no other cabins, and us +didn't hear 'bout no talk what wuz goin' on 'mongst de others. At night +ma always spinned and knit, and grandma, she sewed, makin' clo'es for us +chillun. Dey done it 'cause dey wanted to. Dey wuz workin' for deyselves +den. Dey won't made to work at night. On Sadday night, ma bathed all her +chillun. I don't know what de other famblies done den. Slaves wuz 'lowed +to frolic Sadday night, if dey b'haved deyselves. On Sunday nights dey +most always had prayer meetings. + +"On Christmas mornin' all of us would come up to de yard back of de Big +'Ouse and Marse Billie and de overseer handed out presents for all. Dey +wuz a little dram and cake too. Us chillun got dolls, and dresses, and +aprons. Them stuffed rag dolls wuz de prettiest things! On New Year's +day all de mens would come up to de Big 'Ouse early in de morning and +would work lively as dey could a-cuttin' wood and doing all sorts of +little jobs 'til de dinner bell rung. Den Marse Billie would come out +and tell 'em dey wuz startin' de New Year right a-workin' lively and +fast. Den he would say dat dey would be fed good and looked atter good, +long as dey worked good. He give 'em a good taste of dram and cake all +'round, and let 'em go back to dey cabins for dinner, and dey could have +de rest of de day to frolic. + +"Dem cornshuckin's us used to have sho' wuz a sight. Corn would be piled +up high as dis house, and de folkses would dance 'round and holler and +whoop. Ma 'lowed us chillun to watch 'em 'bout a half hour; den made us +come back inside our cabin, 'cause dey always give de corn shuckin' +folkses some dram, and things would git mighty lively and rough by de +time all de corn wuz shucked. + +"On bright moonshiny nights folkses would invite de neighbors to come +for cotton pickin's. After the cotton wuz picked dey would eat barbecue, +and dance and have a big time. + +"I never seed but one weddin' 'fore freedom come, and dat wuz when Marse +Billie's daughter, Miss Lizzie Glenn, married Mr. Deadwyler. Dey had +everything at dat weddin'. Yes, Ma'am, just everything. Miss Lizzie had +on a white silk dress a-trailin' so far behind her dat it took two +ladies to tote her train. Her veil wuz floatin' all 'bout her, and she +wuz just de prettiest thing I ever did see in my whole life. A long time +atter dat, Mr. Deadwyler, he died, and left Miss Lizzie wid two chillun, +and she married Mr. Roan. + +"I never seed no slave marriage. Ma went to 'em sometimes, but she never +'lowed us to go, 'cause she said us wuz too little. Marse Billie sont +atter his own preacher, and de couple would come up to de Big 'Ouse and +stand in de parlor door to be married 'fore Marster and Mist'ess. Den +de colored folkses would go back down to da cabins and have a weddin' +supper and frolic and dance. Dat's what ma told me 'bout 'em. + +"Us used to play lots, but us never did have no special name for our +playin'. 'Swingin' the Corner,' wuz when us all jined hands in a low +row, and de leader would begin to run 'round in circles, and at de other +end of de line dey would soon be runnin' so fast dey wuz most flyin'. + +"Us all de time heared folkses talkin' 'bout voodoo, but my grandma wuz +powerful 'ligious, and her and ma told us chillun voodoo wuz a no 'count +doin' of de devil, and Christians wuz never to pay it no 'tention. Us +wuz to be happy in de Lord, and let voodoo and de devil alone. None of +us liked to hear scritch owls holler, 'cause everybody thought it meant +somebody in dat house wuz goin' to die if a scritch owl lit on your +chimney and hollered, so us would stir up de fire to make the smoke +drive him away. I always runned out and tried to see 'em, but old as I +is, nigh 86, I ain't never seed no scritch owl. + +"Yes, Ma'am, I sho' does b'lieve in ha'nts, 'cause I done heared one and +I seed it too, leasewise I seed its light. It wuz 'bout 30 years ago, +and us had just moved in a house whar a white fambly had moved out. The +ma had died a few days atter a little baby wuz born, and de baby had +died too. One night I heared a strange sound like somebody movin' 'round +in de house, and pretty soon a dim light comes a-movin' into my room +real slow and atter goin' 'round de room it went out of sight in de +closet. + +"Next day I went to see de white folkses what had lived dar 'fore us +moved in, and de husband tole me not to worry, dat it wuz his wife's +ha'nt. He said she wuz huntin' for some money she had hid in de house, +'cause she wanted her chillun what wuz still livin' to have it. I went +back home and 'most tore dat house down lookin' for dat money. Long as +us lived dar I would see dat light now and den at night, and I always +hoped it would lead me to de money but it never did. + +"When folkses got sick, Marse Billie had 'em looked atter. Mist'ess +would come every day to see 'bout 'em, and if she thought dey wuz bad +off, she sont atter Dr. Davenport. Dr. Davenport come dar so much 'til +he courted and married Marse Billie's daughter, Miss Martha Glenn. I wuz +named for Miss Martha. Dey sho' did take special good keer of de mammies +and de babies. Dey had a separate house for 'em, and a granny 'oman who +didn't have nothin' else to do but look atter colored babies and +mammies. De granny 'oman took de place of a doctor when de babies wuz +born, but if she found a mammy in a bad fix she would ax Mist'ess to +send for Dr. Davenport. + +"Us didn't have no separate church for colored folkses. De white folkses +had a big Baptist church dey called Mill Stone Church down at Goosepond, +a good ways down de road from Marse Billie's plantation. It sho' wuz a +pretty sight to see, dat church, all painted white and set in a big oak +grove. Colored folkses had dey place in de gallery. Dey won't 'lowed to +jine de church on Sunday, but dey had reg'lar Sadday afternoons for de +slaves to come and 'fess dey faith, and jine de church. Us didn't know +dey wuz no other church but de Baptist. All de baptizin' wuz done on +Sunday by de white preacher. First he would baptize de white folkses in +de pool back of de church and den he would baptize de slaves in de same +pool. + +"My grandma wuz a powerful Christian 'oman, and she did love to sing and +shout. Dat's how come Marse Billie had her locked up in de loom room +when de Yankee mens come to our plantation. Grandma would git to +shoutin' so loud she would make so much fuss nobody in de church could +hear de preacher and she would wander off from de gallery and go +downstairs and try to go down de white folkses aisles to git to de altar +whar de preacher wuz, and dey wuz always lockin' her up for 'sturbin' +worship, but dey never could break her from dat shoutin' and wanderin' +'round de meetin' house, atter she got old. + +"Dem Yankee sojers rode up in de Big 'Ouse yard and 'gun to ax me +questions 'bout whar Marse Billy wuz, and whar everything on de place +wuz kept, but I wuz too skeered to say nuthin'. Everything wuz quiet and +still as could be, 'cept for Grandma a-singin' and a-shoutin' up in de +loom house all by herself. One of dem Yankees tried the door and he axed +me how come it wuz locked. I told him it wuz 'cause grandma had 'sturbed +de Baptist meetin' wid her shoutin'. Dem mens grabbed de axe from de +woodpile and busted de door down. Dey went in and got grandma. Dey axed +her 'bout how come she wuz locked up, and she told 'em de same thing I +had told 'em. Dey axed her if she wuz hongry, and she said she wuz. Den +dey took dat axe and busted down de smokehouse door and told her she wuz +free now and to help herself to anything she wanted, 'cause everything +on de plantation wuz to b'long to de slaves dat had worked dar. Dey took +grandma to de kitchen and told ma to give her some of de white folkses +dinner. Ma said 'But de white folkses ain't et yet.' 'Go right on,' de +Yankees said, 'and give it to her, de best in de pot, and if dey's +anything left when she gets through, maybe us will let de white folkses +have some of it.' + +"Dem brash mens strutted on through de kitchen into de house and dey +didn't see nobody else down stairs. Upstairs dey didn't even have de +manners to knock at Mist'ess' door. Dey just walked right on in whar my +sister, Lucy, wuz combin' Mist'ess' long pretty hair. They told Lucy she +wuz free now and not to do no more work for Mist'ess. Den all of 'em +grabbed dey big old rough hands into Mist'ess' hair, and dey made her +walk down stairs and out in de yard, and all de time dey wuz a-pullin' +and jerkin' at her long hair, tryin' to make her point out to 'em whar +Marse Billie had done had his horses and cattle hid out. Us chilluns wuz +a-cryin' and takin' on 'cause us loved Mist'ess and us didn't want +nobody to bother her. Dey made out like dey wuz goin' to kill her if she +didn't tell 'em what dey wanted to know, but atter a while dey let her +alone. + +"Atter dey had told all de slaves dey could find on de place not to do +no more work, and to go help deyselves to anything dey wanted in de +smokehouse, and 'bout de Big 'Ouse and plantation, dey rode on off, and +us never seed no more of 'em. Atter de Yankees wuz done gone off Grandma +'gun to fuss: 'How, dem sojers wuz tellin' us what ain't so, 'cause +ain't nobody got no right to take what belongs to Marster and Mist'ess.' +And Ma jined in: 'Sho' it ain't no truf in what dem Yankees wuz +a-sayin', and us went right on living' just like us always done 'til +Marse Billie called us together and told us de war wuz over and us wuz +free to go whar us wanted to go, and us could charge wages for our work. + + +"When freedom comed my pa wanted us to move off right away over to Mr. +Smithies' place so our family could be together, but us stayed on wid +Marse Billie de rest of dat year. Den pa and ma moved to Lexin'ton, whar +pa digged walls and ditches and made right good pay. Ma took all four of +us chillun and run a good farm. Us got along fine. + +"'Fore de War, all work stopped on de plantation for de funeral of a +slave. Grandma didn't think chillun ought to see funerals, so de first +one I ever seed, wuz when ma died two years atter de War wuz done over. +A jackleg colored preacher talked, but he didn't have sense 'nuff to +preach a sho' 'nuff sermon. + +"Us heared a heap 'bout dem Ku Kluxers, but none of my folks never even +seed any of 'em. Dey wuz s'posed to have done lots of beatin' of colored +folks, but nobody knowed who dem Ku Kluxers wuz. + +"A long time atter de War I got married to Traverse Colquitt. De weddin' +took place at my sister's house, and us sho' did have a big weddin' and +a fine dinner afterwards. Den next day my husband carried me to whar he +wuz born, and his ma give us another big fine dinner. She had a table +longer dan this room, and it wuz just loaded with all sorts of good +things. De white folkses dat my husband had used to work for had sent +some of de good vittals. + +"Most of my life atter de War wuz spent in Lexin'ton. Does you know +anythin' 'bout Mr. John Bacon dat used to run de only hotel dar den? +Well, I worked for him for many a year. His daughter, Miss Mamie Bacon, +lives here in Athens and she is old and feeble like me. She lives 'bout +four blocks from here, and whenever I'se able to walk dat far, I goes +to see her to talk 'bout old times, and to git her to 'vise me how to +git along. I sho'ly does love Miss Mamie. + +"My husband died 'bout a year ago. Us had eight boys and two girls, but +dey ain't but four of our chillun livin' now. Least, I thinks dey is all +four alive. Two of my sons lives somewhar in Alabama, and one son stays +in New York. My only livin' daughter lives wid me here, pore thing! +Since she seed one of her chillun killed last year, she ain't had no +mind a t'all. I'se tryin' to look atter her and de other child. Her +husband done been dead a long time. My neighbors helps me, by bringin' +me a little to eat, when dey knows I ain't got nothin' in de house to +cook. De storekeeper lets me have a little credit, but I owe her so much +now dat I'se 'shamed to ax her to let me have anythin' else. De white +folkses on Prince Avenue is right good to let me have dey clo'es to +wash, and de young gals in the neighborhood helps me to do de washin'. I +sho' is hopin' de old age pension will soon git started comin' to me. +Some dat I know, has been gittin' dey old age pensions two or three +months. I done signed up for mine twict, so maybe it will 'gin to come +'fore I is done plum wore out." + +When her visitor was ready to leave, Martha hobbled to the door and bade +her an affectionate farewell. "Goodbye, Lady! I prays for you every +night. May de good Lord bless you." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE + +MINNIE DAVIS, Age 78 +237 Billups St. +Athens, Ga. + +Written By: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens, Georgia + +Edited By: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens, Georgia + +and +John N. Booth +WPA Residencies 6 & 7 + +August 29, 1938 + + +The bareness of Minnie Davis' yard was relieved by a single rosebush, +and her small house might best be described as a "tumble-down shack." An +unsteady wooden box served as a step to the fragment of porch before the +front door. + +"Good mornin', Mam," was the greeting of a Negro man who hastened to +answer the visitor's knock at the door. "Yes Mam, Miss Minnie's at +home." He turned, tapped on the door of one of the four rooms adjoining +the hall, and called: "Miss Minnie, a white lady wants to see you." +Minnie hobbled to the door and invited the visitor to her bedroom, where +a suite of handsome walnut furniture reflected the period when marble +tops were standard parts of dressers and washstands. A low chair, an old +table, and a rusty heater completed the furnishings of the room. + +Age and ill health have not dealt kindly with Minnie, and her short-cut, +kinky hair is almost white, but her eyes and face retain a remarkably +youthful appearance. She is a small thin woman of gingercake color and, +despite the sweltering heat, she wore a pink flannel nightgown, faded +and dingy, and a pair of high top black shoes, so badly run over that +she hobbled along on the sides of them. Minnie is well educated, and she +taught school for so long that her speech is remarkably free of dialect. + +When the nature of the visit was explained, Minnie said: "A white woman +has been here several times before, but I was sick and didn't understand +clearly what she wanted me to tell her." She then explained that she did +not care to talk for publication at all. She said she was hungry and had +nothing at all in the house to eat. Her nephew, Ed, an ex-postman lived +with her, she explained, and he would go for food if there was any +money. She might feel like talking a little if she had a little +something to eat. The interviewer provided the cash and Ed soon returned +with a pint of milk and some cinnamon rolls. After her repast, Minnie +began to talk, giving the impression that every word was carefully +weighed before it was uttered. + +"I was born in Greene County near Penfield, Georgia," she said. "Aggie +Crawford was my mother and she was married to Jim Young. My only sister +was Mariah, and my three brothers were Ned, John, and Jim. Ned was a +mulatto. I know who his father was, but of course you won't ask me that. +I wouldn't want to expose my own mother or the man who was Ned's father. +I was quite a small child during the war period, and I can tell you very +little of that time, except the things my mother told me when I grew old +enough to remember. My mother belonged to the Crawford family in Greene +County, but when I knew anything we were living in Athens and were the +slaves of Marster John Crawford. + +"As children we played around the yard; those of us who were old enough +had odd jobs to do. The unceiled house that my father and mother shared +with three other families was weatherboarded and had a chimney made of +sticks and dirt. There was a bed in each corner of the room and from one +to three children slept in the bed with their parents: the rest of the +children slept on the floor. The tall old home-made wooden beds had very +much the appearance of beds used now, except that cords were used +instead of the metal springs that came into use later. Our osnaburg +mattress ticks were filled with straw. I'm quite sure there were no +pillows. There was also a two-story house on the lot for slaves." She +was asked what she called her father and mother during slavery time, and +her reply was: "I have always said father and mother because I liked it +better, and the Bible teaches us to say that. + +"Grandmother Dilsey and grandfather Levi Crawford lived in Lexington. I +saw my grandmother one time, but I don't know what she did at the white +folks' house. Grandfather was a carpenter. + +"I never got any money in slavery time. If the slaves ever got any, it +was when the Yankees came through here. At that time the white people +gave their money to the slaves for safekeeping, and after the Yankees +went on it was returned to the white owners. + +"My mother was the cook and looked after the house. Oh, yes indeed, we +had good food to eat. Bread, milk, meat, collard greens, turnips, and +potatoes. I would say we had just everything that was grown in the +garden and on the plantations to eat at that time. The cooking was done +in the kitchen in the yard. The fireplace was as wide as the end of this +room, and a long iron bar extended from one end to the other. The great +cooking pots were suspended over the coals from this bar by means of pot +hooks. Heavy iron skillets with thick lids were much used for baking, +and they had ovens of various sizes. I have seen my mother bake +beautiful biscuits and cakes in those old skillets, and they were ideal +for roasting meats. Mother's batter cakes would just melt in your mouth +and she could bake and fry the most delicious fish. There was no certain +thing that I liked to eat more than anything else in those days. I was +young and had a keen appetite for all good things. Miss Fannie and Miss +Susan often made candy and it was so good I could have eaten all they +made, had they given it to me. My father hired his time out; he made and +sold gingercakes on the railroad. + +"In the summertime we wore homespun dresses made with a full skirt +gathered onto a tight-fitting waist. In the wintertime the dresses were +made of checked woolen material called linsey cloth. For underwear, we +wore balmoral petticoats and osnaburg drawers. We went barefooted most +of the time. I remember one particular time when the ground was frozen +and I went about without any shoes, but it didn't bother me. Barefooted +children seldom had bad colds in winter. We wore just anything on +Sunday, but we had to look nice and clean. + +"Marster John Crawford, son of the distinguished William H. Crawford, +was my owner. Indeed, he was good to us. I'll tell you after awhile +about the time he wouldn't let the town marshal whip my mother. They +told me his wife was a fine woman and that she was as good to her slaves +as she could be. She died very young in life and Marse John's sisters, +Miss Fannie and Miss Susan, kept house for him after that. Marse John's +three children were Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa, and Marse Allie. Miss Rosa +married Marse Tom Golden, and Miss Fannie married a Gerdine; I've +forgotten his first name. + +"Marse John may have had an overseer on one of his plantations, but I +don't remember. I do know he didn't have a carriage driver for he didn't +have a carriage. I don't believe I can describe the peculiar shape of +his fine eight-room house. It was on Dougherty Street, right back of +Scudder's School. The Crawfords were considered very uppity people and +their slaves were uppish too. Marse John didn't have many slaves and +they had to get up and get going early every morning. Marse John was +postmaster of Athens and had to be in his office by eight o'clock every +morning so he ordered that his breakfast be served regularly at +seven-thirty. + +"No Mam, our white folks didn't teach their slaves to read and write +because it was against the law. However, they did read the Bible to us, +and the slaves that were smart enough, were asked to repeat the verses +they had learned from hearing Miss Fannie, Miss Sue, and Marse John +read. The Crawford children were caught teaching my mother to read and +write, but they were made to stop. Mother was quick to learn and she +never gave up. She would steal the newspapers and read up about the war, +and she kept the other slaves posted as to how the war was progressing. +She knew when the war was over, almost as soon as Marse John did. + +"I don't recall any certain reason why the slaves were punished; they +needed it, I'm sure of that. Some folks need to be punished now. Miss +Sue, as we called her, whipped the slaves for misbehavior. I remember +one time there was quite a commotion. The town marshal came to our house +to whip my mother. It had been told that she had been writing letters, +asking people to buy whiskey from her, but Marse John wouldn't let the +marshal touch her. There was a jail, but I don't recall that any of +Marse John's slaves were ever put in there. I was told that his slaves +were, as a rule, well behaved and that they gave him no trouble. + +"Yes Mam, we went to church, that is, those of us who cared to go did. +There wasn't any separate church for colored people in Athens, that I +can remember. We went to church and Sunday School at the First +Presbyterian Church, where the slaves were allowed to sit in the +gallery. I recall that Dr. Hoyt used to pray that the Lord would drive +the Yankees back. He said that 'Niggers were born to be slaves.' My +mother said that all the time he was praying out loud like that, she was +praying to herself: 'Oh, Lord, please send the Yankees on and let them +set us free.' I wasn't enough of a singer to have a favorite song, and I +was too happy playing with the Crawford children to be interested in +going to baptizings and funerals. + +"I did go to my father's funeral. When he was taken sick Dr. Holt +attended his case, and it was not long before he told Marse John that +Father would never get well. When he died Mother hollered and screamed +something terrible. Miss Sue told her not to cry because, 'the Lord +knows best.' 'Yes, Miss Sue,' answered Mother, 'but you have never loved +a man to lose.' With that, they both cried. When anyone died in those +days, the people sat up all night and didn't go to bed until the funeral +was over. Now, no real sympathy is shown. + +"I don't believe any of Marse John's slaves ever went to the war. He was +good to them and everyone of them loved him. I heard of patterollers +chasing slaves and whipping them if they were caught away from home +without a pass, and sometimes they locked them up. However, nothing of +the kind ever happened to any of Marse John's slaves. He was a highly +respected citizen and everyone in Athens knew better than to touch his +Negroes. + +"After the work for the day was finished at the big house, the slaves +went to their quarters to weave cloth and sew, but when ten o'clock came +and the bell sounded, everything had to be quiet. Slaves on our place +worked Saturday afternoons the same as any other day. On Saturday nights +the young folks and a few of the older folks danced. Some of them got +passes from Marse John so they could visit around. They popped corn, +pulled candy, or just sat around and talked. Those of us who desired +went to Sunday School and church on Sundays; others stayed at home and +did their washing and ironing, and there was always plenty of that to be +done. + +"Christmas was a grand time at Marse John's. We had everything good to +eat under the sun at that time and, as my mother was the cook, I was +sure of getting my share of the good things. Miss Fannie and Miss Sue +played Santa Claus to slave children. I was sorry when Mary got too +smart and peeped to see what it was all about, for after that they just +came to our house and handed us the things that would have come as Santa +Claus. + +"New Year's Day was no different from other days, except that Marse John +gave the grown folks whiskey to drink that day like he did on Christmas +morning. They couldn't risk giving slaves much whiskey because it made +them mean, and then they would fight the white folks. They had to be +mighty careful about things like that in order to keep down uprisings. + +"My mother went to cornshuckings, cotton pickings, and quiltings. They +must have had wonderful times, to hear her tell it. She said that after +the corn was shucked, cotton picked, or quilts quilted, they always gave +them plenty of good things to eat and drink and let them aloose to enjoy +themselves for the balance of the night. Those things took place at +harvest time, and everyone looked forward to having a good time at that +season. Mother said that Marse John was particular with his slaves, and +wouldn't let them go just anywhere to these things. + +"About the only game I can remember playing as a child was a doll game. +The Crawford children would use me for the doll, and then when my turn +came to play mamma and claim one of them for my doll, Miss Fanny or Miss +Sue would appear and then I would have to be a doll for them. I didn't +mind, for I dearly loved them all. + +"Now about Raw Head and Bloody Bones; I am going to tell you, Miss, my +Marster's people were cultured and refined, and they wouldn't allow such +things told to their own children or to their slaves' children. They +didn't want anything said or done to frighten any little children, and +if a nurse or anyone else was caught doing such a thing, that person was +punished for it. With the heritage of training like that I could hardly +be expected to believe in such things. + +"Marse John was grand to sick slaves. He always sent for Dr. Moore, who +would make his examination and write out his prescription. When he left +his parting word was usually 'Give him a sound thrashing and he will get +better.' Of course he didn't mean that; it was his little joke. Dr. +Holt, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. Jones Long were sometimes called in for +consultation on particularly serious cases. We didn't like Dr. Moore and +usually begged for one of the other doctors. I don't think my white +folks used teas made of herbs, leaves or roots; they may have, but I +don't remember it. However, I do know that we wore little sacks of +asafetida around our necks to keep off diseases, and the white folks +wore it too. + +"On the day we learned of the surrender, the Negroes rallied around the +liberty flag pole that they set up near where the city hall is now. All +day long they cut up and there was a song they sung that day that went +something like this: + + 'We rally around the flag pole of liberty, + The Union forever, Hurrah! Boys Hurrah!' + +"Next morning when the Negroes got up the white folks had cut that pole +down. We were mortally afraid of the Yankees when they appeared here a +short time after the surrender. We were afraid of the Ku Klux Klan +riders too. The Negroes did act so bad; there were lots of killings +going on for a long time after the war was supposed to be over. + +"Mother was glad and sorry too that she was free. Marse John had been so +good to all his slaves that none of them really wanted to leave him. We +stayed on a while, then mother left and rented a room. She worked hard +and bought a house as soon as she could; others did the same. There were +very few slaves that had any money at all to begin on. + +"Immediately following the surrender northern people opened Knox +Institute. One of my teachers was Miss Dora Brooks, a white woman from +the North. The principal was a white man, he was Mr. Sortur. After I +graduated from Knox Institute, I went to the Atlanta University four +years, then came back to Athens and taught school here forty years. I +taught whatever grade they assigned me to each year, never any certain +grade from year to year. First and last, I've taught from first grade +through high school. I would be teaching now if it were not for my bad +health. I receive a teacher's pension, but have never applied for an old +age pension. + +"My husband was Samuel B. Davis, publisher of the _Athens Clipper_. I +published this newspaper myself for a short while after his death, then +sold it. We didn't have a big wedding, just a very simple one at my +mother's house. I was married in a nice white dress, but it was nothing +fancy. Our two children were born dead. Once I had a nice home, +beautifully furnished. All I have left of it is this old house and my +good bedroom suite. The rest of my possessions have gotten away from me +during my continued illness. + +"I often think of Abraham Lincoln; he did a good deed for my race. Jeff +Davis was a good man and, no doubt, he thought he was doing the right +thing. Booker T. Washington was a man of brilliant mind, but he was +radically wrong in many of his views pertaining to education of the +black race. He lectured here once, but I didn't bother to hear him +speak. + +"Yes Mam, indeed I had rather be free. Oh! religion is glorious. If God +has set you free from the bonds and penalties of sin, I think you ought +to live up to your Lord's commands. I dearly love to go to church and +hear the preacher tell of God. It gives me strength to live until He is +ready for me to go. + +"Now, Miss, I hope I have told you what you wanted to know, but I must +admit the things that took place way back there are rather vague in my +mind. I'm an old woman and my mind is not as clear as it once was. Next +week, if I am strong enough to make the trip, I am going to spend the +day with Mary Colbert, and go over the old times you and I have +discussed. She remembers them better than I do, because she is older." + + + + +Whitley +[HW: Unedited +Atlanta] +E. Driskell + +EX-SLAVE MOSE DAVIS +[APR 8 1937] + + +In one of Atlanta's many alleys lives Mose Davis, an ex-slave who was +born on a very large plantation 12 miles from Perry, Georgia. His master +was Colonel Davis, a very rich old man, who owned a large number of +slaves in addition to his vast property holdings. Mose Davis says that +all the buildings on this plantation were whitewashed, the lime having +been secured from a corner of the plantation known as "the lime sink". +Colonel Davis had a large family and so he had to have a large house to +accommodate these members. The mansion, as it was called, was a great +big three-storied affair surrounded by a thick growth of cedar trees. + +Mose's parents, Jennie and January Davis, had always been the property +of the Davis family, naturally he and his two brothers and two sisters +never knew any other master than "The Old Colonel". + +Mr. Davis says that the first thing he remembers of his parents is being +whipped by his mother who had tied him to the bed to prevent his running +away. His first recollection of his father is seeing him take a drink of +whiskey from a five gallon jug. When asked if this was'nt against the +plantation rules "Uncle Mose" replied: "The Colonel was one of the +biggest devils you ever seen--he's the one that started my daddy to +drinking. Sometimes he used to come to our house to git a drink +hisself". + +Mose's Father was the family coachman. "All that he had to do was to +drive the master and his family and to take care of the two big grey +horses that he drove. Compared to my mother and the other slaves he had +an easy time," said Uncle Mose, shaking his head and smiling: "My daddy +was so crazy about the white folks and the horses he drove until I +believe he thought more of them than he did of me. One day while I was +in the stable with him one of the horses tried to kick me and when I +started to hit him Daddy cussed me and threatned to beat me." + +His mother, brothers, and sisters, were all field hands, but there was +never any work required of Mose, who was play-mate and companion to +Manning, the youngest of Colonel Davis' five sons. These two spent most +of the time fishing and hunting. Manning had a pony and buggy and +whenever he went to town he always took Mose along. + +Field hands were roused, every morning by the overseer who rang the +large bell near the slave quarters. Women [TR: and] young children were +permitted to remain at home until 9 o'clock to prepare breakfast. At 9 +o'clock these women had to start to the fields where they worked along +with the others until sundown. The one break in the day's work was the +noon dinner hour. Field hands planted and tended cotton, corn, and the +other produce grown on the plantation until harvest time when everybody +picked cotton. Slaves usually worked harder during the picking season +than at any other time. After harvest, the only remaining work was +cleaning out fence corners, splitting rails building fences and numerous +other minor tasks. In hot weather, the only work was shelling corn. +There was no Sunday work other than caring for the stock. + +On this plantation there were quite a few skilled slaves mostly +blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, plasterers, and a cobbler. One of +Mose's brothers was a carpenter. + +All slaves too old for field work remained at home where some took care +of the young children, while others worked in the loom houses helping +make the cloth and the clothing used on the plantation. Since no work +was required at night, this time was utilized by doing personal work +such as the washing and the repairing of clothing, etc. + +On the Fourth of July or at Christmas Colonel Davis always had a +festival for all his slaves. Barbecue was served and there was much +singing and dancing. These frolics were made merrier by the presence of +guests from other plantations. Music was furnished by some of the slaves +who also furnished music at the mansion whenever the Col. or some of the +members of his family had a party. There was also a celebration after +the crops had been gathered. + +Although there was only one distribution of clothing per year nobody +suffered from the lack of clothes because this one lot had enough to +last a year if properly cared for. The children wore one piece garments, +a cross between a dress and a slightly lengthened shirt, made of +homespun or crocus material [TR note: "crocus" is a coarse, loosely +woven material like burlap]. No shoes were given them until winter and +then they got the cast-offs of the grown ups. The men all wore pants +made of material known as "ausenberg". The shirts and under wear were +made of another cotton material. Dresses for the women were of striped +homespun. All shoes were made on the premises of the heaviest leather, +clumsely fashioned and Uncle Mose says that slaves like his father who +worked in the mansion, were given much better clothing. His father +received of "The Colonel" and his grown sons many discarded clothes. One +of the greatest thrills of Mose's boyhood was receiving first pair of +"ausenberg" pants. As his mother had already taught him to knit (by +using four needles at one time) all that he had to do was to go to his +hiding place and get the socks that he had made. + +None of the clothing worn by the slaves on this particular plantation +was bought. Everything was made by the slaves, even to the dye that was +used. + +Asked if there was sufficient food for all slaves, Uncle Mose said "I +never heard any complaints." At the end of each week every family was +given some fat meat, black molasses, meal and flour in quantity varying +with the size of the family. At certain intervals during the week, they +were given vegetables. Here too, as in everything else, Mose's father +was more fortunate than the others, since he took all his meals at the +mansion where he ate the same food served to the master and his family. +The only difference between Week-day and Sunday diet was that biscuits +were served on Sundays. The children were given only one biscuit each. +In addition to the other bread was considered a delicacy. All food stuff +was grown on the plantation. + +The slave quarters were located a short distance below the mansion. The +cabins one-roomed weatherboard structures were arranged so as to form a +semi-circle. There was a wide tree-lined road leading from the master's +home to these cabins. + +Furnishings of each cabin consisted of one or two benches, a bed, and a +few cooking utensils. These were very crude, especially the beds. Some +of them had four posts while the ends of others were nailed to the +walls. All lumber used in their construction was very heavy and rough. +Bed springs were unheard of--wooden slats being used for this purpose. +The mattresses were large ausenberg bags stuffed to capacity with hay, +straw, or leaves. Uncle Mose told about one of the slaves, named Ike, +whose entire family slept on bare pine straw. His children were among +the fattest on the plantation and when Colonel Davis tried to make him +put this straw in a bag he refused claiming that the pine needles kept +his children healthy. + +The floors and chimneys on the Davis Plantation were made of wood and +brick instead of dirt and mud as was the case on many of the other +surrounding plantations. One window (with shutters instead of window +panes) served the purpose of ventilation and light. At night pine knots +or candles gave light. The little cooking that the slaves did at home +was all done at the open fireplace. + +Near the living quarters was a house known as the "chillun house." All +children too young for field work stayed at this house in the care of +the older slave women. There was no hospital building on the premises. +The sick had to remain in their individual cabins where they too were +cared for by slaves too old for field work. + +Only one family lived in a cabin. Mose's mother and father each had a +separate cabin. He did not explain the reason for this but said that he +was made to live in his father's cabin. Whenever he could, (usually when +his father was away with the Colonel for a day or two) he stayed in his +mothers cabin. "The only difference between the houses we lived in +during slavery and those that some of us live in now who said is that we +had more room there than we have now." He says that even the community +cook house was larger than some of the living quarters of today. All +cabins were white washed the same as the other buildings on the +plantation, and the occupants were required to keep the interiors and +the surrounding clean at all times. The overseer's cabin was located a +short distance away from the slave cabins, so that it would be easier +for him to keep check on his charges. + +There was little if any sickness but Colonel Davis employed a doctor who +visited the plantation each week. On other occasions the overseer +administered such remedies as castor oil, turpentine, etc., and the +slaves had remedies of their own. For stomach ache they used a tea made +of Jimson weeds. Another medicine was heart leaf tea. Manual and +religious training were the only types allowed on the plantation. Trades +like carpentry, blacksmithing, etc. were learned from the white +mechanics sometimes employed by Colonel Davis. All slaves were required +to attend church and a special building was known as "Davis' Chapel." A +Negro preacher officiated and no white people were present. Uncle Mose +doesn't know what was preached as he and Manning always slipped into +town on Sundays to see the girls. Uncle Mose says he and Manning were +together so much that occasionally they even slept in the same +bed,--sometimes in Manning's house and sometimes at his own house. + +A pool for baptism was filled with well water. The colored pastor +performed all baptisms and marriages. + +Book learning was prohibited in any form. Sometimes Mose tried to +persuade Manning to teach him to read and write but Manning always +refused. Mose's cousin who was taught to read and write forged Colonel +Davis' name to a check and drew the money from the bank before the hand +writing was discovered. For this act he was given a sound whipping and +assigned to hard labor by the master, "And", said Uncle Mose, "he didn't +even have the pleasure of spending one penny". When asked if his cousin +was arrested and placed in jail he replied that the jails were not for +the slaves, as their punishment was usually left to their individual +masters. When his cousin was whipped this was an exception to "The +Colonel's rule"; he was entirely against any form of whipping. His usual +method of punishment was to cut off individual privileges for a limited +amount of time (in proportion to the nature of the offense), along with +an assignment of extra heavy work. + +The fame of the "Paddle-Rollers" was widespread among the slaves, but +none of Colonel Davis' servants attempted to run away or leave the +plantation often without the required pass (if they did they were never +caught). + +There was very little talk on the plantation about the actual beginning +of the Civil War. Slaves was very guarded in their talk as they feared +the master's wrath. Uncle Mose thought little or nothing about the War +and had even less to say. + +When the Yankee soldiers came to the plantation they drove wagons to the +smoke house and took all the meat away. "The funny part about it was +that "The Colonel" had taken shelter in this particular house when he +saw the Yankees coming," said Uncle Mose. "He didn't have time to hide +any of his other belongings." When the soldiers had left, The Colonel +looked around and said to Manning and Mose: "Just like I get that, I +guess I can get some more." + +Uncle Mose says that when freedom was declared, his father came rushing +to their cabin waving his arms like a windmill, shouting: "Boy we is +free--you can go and git yourself a job 'cause I ain't goin' to hitch up +no more horses". Some of the slaves remained on the plantation where +they worked for wages until their deaths. His father was one of them and +after his death, his mother moved to another plantation to live with +another son. Meanwhile Mose started traveling from place to place as +soon as he was told that he was free to go as he pleased. He paid one +visit to the plantation where he learned of his father's death. He then +asked Manning, who was operating the plantation, for the ox that had +belonged to his father and when Manning refused to part with this +animal, he made a secret visit back, that night, and took the animal +away. He has not been back since. + +At this time Mr. Davis stretched himself, saying: "Well, I guess that's +about as straight as I can get it--Wish that I could tell you some more +but I can't." Smiling broadly, he bade the interviewer a pleasant +good-bye. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +IKE DERRICOTTE, Age 78 +554 Hancock Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Grace McCune +Athens + +Edited by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + +August 19, 1938 + +[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.] + + +Ike Derricotte's brown-painted, frame bungalow, well back from the +street, faces a wide grassy yard where tall pecan trees provide summer +shade and winter nuts. + +A mulatto woman answered the knock at the front door. Her long, +straight, white hair was neatly arranged in a low-pinned coil at the +back of her head. Her print frock and white shoes were immaculate. "Yes +Mam, Ike is at home," was the answer to the inquiry for her husband. +"Jus' have a seat on de porch here 'cause it's so much cooler dan inside +de house, and I'll call Ike. He's jus' piddlin' 'round de back yard dis +mornin'." + +Almost at once a tall, well-built man of gingercake color appeared. He +wore an old black cap, blue work shirt, blue wool trousers, and black +shoes. "Howdy-do, Miss! Did you want to see me?" was his greeting. His +eyes sparkled when he learned that we wished to record the story of his +life. "Yes Mam, I'll be glad to tell you what I kin," he promised, "and +Miss, I'll jus' bet I kin tell you somepin dat very few folks kin say +'bout dem old days. I was born right here on dis same street, and I'm +still livin' on it, but dis house and lot ain't my birthplace. When I +was born, dis section was mostly in woods. Jus' look at it now; houses +has been built up and down both sides of what was den jus' de big road. +Times has changed in lots of ways since dem days. + +"My mother's name was Myra, and she was a laundry 'oman owned by Mr. +Stevens Thomas. Mr. Thomas was one of de biggest merchants in Athens dem +days. He owned de square between Thomas Street and Wall Street, and it +s'tended back to Clayton Street. + +"William Derricotte was my father, and he belonged to Col. Robert +Thomas. My father spent most of his time beautifyin' de yards 'round de +big house, and in dese days and times he would be called a landscape +gardener. Dey jus' called 'em yard boys den. Atter Pa and Ma was +married, Marster Stevens sold Ma to Marster Robert, so dat dey could be +together. Mr. Robert Thomas' place was right up dis same old street, +whar de Y.W.C.A. is now, and right dar is whar I was born. Dat was in +1860, a long time ago; and lots of things has happened since den. Lots +of people has moved away and lots more has died out, 'til dere ain't +many of de folks left here dat lived in Athens den. De Thomases, +Dorseys, and Phinizys was some of de oldest families here. + +"I was too little to know much about de war but, little as I was, dere's +one thing dat's still as fresh in my memory now as den, and dat's how +people watched and waited to hear dat old Georgia train come in. Not +many folks was able to take de papers den, and de news in 'em was from +one to two weeks old when dey got here. All de men dat was able to fight +was off at de front and de folks at home was anxious for news. De way +dat old train brought 'em de news was lak dis: if de southern troops was +in de front, den dat old whistle jus' blowed continuously, but if it +was bad news, den it was jus' one short, sharp blast. In dat way, from +de time it got in hearin', evvybody could tell by de whistle if de news +was good or bad and, believe me, evvybody sho' did listen to dat train. + +"Times was hard durin' de war but from what I've heared de folks dat was +old folks den say, dey warn't near as bad here as in lots of other +places. Yes Mam! Sho' I kin 'member dem Yankees comin' here, but dat was +atter de war was done over. Dey camped right here on Hancock Avenue. +Whar dey camped was mostly woods den, and deir camp reached nearly all +de way to whar Milledge Avenue is now. Us chillun was scared to death of +dem soldiers and stayed out of deir way all us could. My Marster, Mr. +Stevens Thomas, hid all of his family's silver and other valuables dat +could be put out of sight, for dem Yankees jus' went 'round takin' +whatever dey wanted. Dey stole all kinds of food out of de homes, went +into de smokehouses and got hams, and cotched up de chickens. Dey jus' +reached out and tuk what dey wanted and laughed about it lak dey hadn't +been stealin'. + +"Dem Yankees brought de smallpox here wid 'em and give it to all de +Athens folks, and dat was somepin awful. Folks jus' died out wid it so +bad. Dey built a hospital what dey called de 'pest house' out whar de +stockade is now. It was rough and small but I reckon it helped some. It +warn't near large enough for all de folks dat was sick wid smallpox at +one time, and so dey finally got to whar dey used it jus' for de colored +folks, 'cause it seemed dat smallpox went harder wid dem dan wid de +white folks. + +"When de war ended us didn't leave Mr. Stevens Thomas. Ma kept on +cookin' and wukin' 'round de house, and Pa wuked lots for other folks, +larned to do brick-work, build walls, and things lak dat. Atter he got +to be a brickmason he allus had plenty to do. + +"Marbles was de favorite game of de chillun dem days but us never got to +play much lak chillun does dese days, 'cause times was so hard right +atter de war dat as soon as chillun got big enough dey had to go to wuk. +Some of our very best times was at de old swimmin' hole. Us dammed up +dat little crick right back of whar de Seaboard Depot is now and it made +a fine pool to swim in. It was cool for it was shady off down dar in de +woods, and us spent many a hour dar on days as hot as dis one is. When +dey missed us at home, dat was de fust place dey thought of when dey +come to hunt us. I had some mighty good times in dat crick and I +couldn't begin to count de duckin's I got dar and de whuppin's my Ma and +Pa give me for stayin' so long. + +"De biggest time in all de year was de Commencement Day; evvybody got +busy and fixed up for dat. My Marster allus had lots of company at +commencement times, and us had de most good things to eat. Out in town +dey was 'pared for it too. Tables was all along de sidewalks whar you +could buy any kind of 'freshments you wanted. Course dere warn't as many +kinds of 'freshments den as dey has now, but dere was allus plenty of de +strong sort. One time durin' commencement week, Ma give me a whole +quarter to spend. I was de happiest and de richest boy in dis town; +jus' had more money to spend dan anybody, and I walked de streets from +one table to another tryin' to see whar I was gwine to spend all dat +money." Here, Ike laughed heartily. "Miss," he said, "you jus' never +could guess what I spent all dat money for. I bought a whole quarter's +worth of ginger-cakes and lit out for de swimmin' hole. Us chillun had a +fine time down at de swimmin' hole dat day. De Cobbs and Lumpkins owned +all dat land in dar 'round our swimmin' hole den. Dey owned from de +Catholic Church straight through to College Avenue. + +"I mighty well 'member de fust wuk I ever done. I was still jus' a +little fellow when Miss Belle Brumby told Ma she wanted me for a butler +boy and dat she would pay me $2.50 a month. I jus' jumped up and down +and begged her to let me wuk for Miss Belle. Why, I jus' knowed I would +git rich right away, 'cause $2.50 was a mighty lot of money." Ike +laughed as he said: "How many boys would wuk for dat pay for a week now, +let alone a whole month? Ma did let me wuk for Miss Belle and I was +happy, but I know my Mist'ess had a time wid me 'cause, when I got on +dat white coat dey let me wear to wait on de table, I knowed more dan +evvybody else put together and dere couldn't nobody tell me how to keep +de flies off de table. Miss Belle is one fine 'oman, dey jua' don't come +no finer and no better. + +"When I was fourteen my Pa hired me out to be a shoemaker. De shop whar +I was 'prenticed was down on Broad Street, jus' about whar de Bernstein +Furniture Store is now. Dat old buildin' was tore down long years ago +and evvything 'long dar is changed now. De Athens Hardware Store is de +only Broad Street business of dem days dat has stood in de same place +and endured through all dese years. + +"When I went to wuk for Mr. Joe Barry in his shoe shop on Jackson +Street, right in back of whar Mr. Lee Morris' store is now, I felt lak I +had got to be a real sho' 'nough important shoemaker. I wuked for him +'bout 12 or 14 years. He was a good man to wuk for and he was de only +shoemaker I ever knowed to git rich at his trade; he really did make +money in dat shop. I've been a shoemaker ever since 1874, but I never +have been able to git far ahead. In spite of all our trouble for 85 +years atter de war, it seems to me dat times was much better den dan dey +is now. Course, folks didn't make as much den as dey does now. +Carpenters, bricklayers, shoemakers, in fact 'most any kind of laborers +who got from $1.00 to $1.50 a day thought dey had fine wages den. Boys +was paid from $2.50 to $5.00 a month. Cooks got $5.00 to $6.00 a month, +and of course, dey got deir meals whar dey wuked. Sometimes odds and +ends of old clothes was give to 'em, and dey got along very well, even +if most of 'em did have families and big families at dat. Folks could +live on less den 'cause things was cheaper. You could git meal for 50¢ a +bushel; side meat was 5¢ to 6¢ a pound; and you could git a 25-pound +sack of flour for 50¢. Wood was 50¢ a load. House rent was so cheap dat +you didn't have to pay over $3.00 a month for a 2 or 3 room house, and +lots of times you got it cheaper. Most evvybody wore clothes made out of +homespun cloth and jeans, and dey didn't know nothin' 'bout ready-made, +store-bought clothes. Dem clothes what dey made at home didn't cost very +much. Livin' was cheap, but folks lived mighty well in dem days. + +"Us has been married more dan 50 years and dey has all been happy years. +Us has had our troubles and hard luck, but dey come to evvybody. De Lord +has been mighty good to us, 'specially in lettin' us be together so +long. It was what you might call a case of love at fust sight wid us. I +was visitin' down at Camak, Georgia at Christmastime. She lived at +Sparta, and was spendin' Christmas at Camak too, but I didn't see her +'til I was 'bout to leave for Athens. I jus' thought I never could go +'way atter I fust seed her, but I did, and I didn't git to see her again +for 12 long months. Us writ to one another all dat year and got married +at Christmastime, one year from de time us fust met. + +"Us has still got dat old pen I used when I writ and axed her to marry +me; I'd lak to show it to you. 'Scuse me please whilst I goes in de +house to git it." Soon Ike returned. "Ain't it a sight?" he proudly +exclaimed as he displayed the relic. "I made it up myself in December +1886 and it got her consent to marry me, so I'se kept it ever since. My +wife and me wouldn't part wid it for nothin'." The wooden pen staff is +very smooth as though from long usage except at the tip end, where it +appears to have been gnawed. It looks very much as though Ike may have +chewed on it as he wrote that all important letter. The iron pen point, +much too large to fit the standard grooves of the ordinary pen staff, +was placed on the staff and tightly wrapped. After 52 years of service +the pen point and its staff are still in good condition. Ike has the +Prince Albert coat that he wore on his wedding day and he insists that +it looks and fits as well now as it did on the occasion of his marriage. +"I'm keepin' de coat and pen for our chillun," he declared. + +Before resuming the conversation, Ike went back in the house to put the +treasured pen away. In a few moments he returned. "God has been good to +us," he said, "for He let us have all nine of our chillun 'til dey was +grown up. Us wuked mighty hard to raise 'em and give all of 'em a good +education. Dat was somepin us couldn't have when us was growin' up and +I'm thankful to be able to say dat us was able to send 'em all to +college. Four of our chillun has gone on ahead to de next world, and de +five dat's left is scattered from place to place; none of 'em is wid us +now, but dey don't forgit us. Dey writes to us and visits us often and +us goes to see dem. One son is goin' mighty well as a lawyer in +Washin'ton, D.C., and our baby lives in New York City. It's been 'bout 3 +years now since my daughter Juliette died atter a automobile wreck near +Dalton, Georgia. Did you know 'bout Juliette? She give her life to wuk +for de Y.W.C.A., and she went all over de world tryin' to make things +better for de young women of our race. Somebody writ a memorial book +'bout her. I wish dere was a copy of dat book here for you to see, but +it was borrowed from us and it ain't been returned. + +"Did you know I had jus' come back from Washin'ton, whar I visited dat +lawyer son of mine? He sends for me nearly evvy summer and I enjoy +visitin' dar, but I wouldn't lak to live up dar 'cause dem folks ain't +lak our own southern people. I must say dey is mighty nice and good to +me when I goes dar though. Once when I was dar somebody told me dat if I +wanted to have a good time I mustn't let nobody know I was a Georgian +'cause dey said dat de northerners don't lak our State. De rest of de +time I was dar on dat visit I tuk partic'lar pleasure in tellin' +evvybody how proud I was of my State and my home. + +"Dat reminds me of Miss Sally Hodgson. She was in de North, and one +evenin' she was tryin' to tell de folks up dar dat de southern people +warn't as bad as some of de Yankees had said dey was, and dat de white +folks down South didn't mistreat de colored folks. Miss Sally said dat +de very next mornin' de papers up dar was full of news 'bout de lynchin' +of 8 Negroes in one night at Watkinsville. If you had knowed Miss Sally, +you would know how funny dat was," Ike laughed. "She said atter dat dere +warn't no way she could convince dem folks up dar dat Georgia was a good +place to live in. + +"Us had some good friends in de North and sometimes dey comes down here +to see us. One of my wife's friends, a 'oman wid a lot of education has +jus' gone back to Philadelphia atter a visit here in our home. Us +travels a good deal and us has found dat de world ain't so large but dat +us is allus runnin' up against somebody dat us knows wherever us goes. + +"Sometimes when you is in a strange place it's mighty handy to find +somebody you have knowed a long time ago. I 'member one time when I was +visitin' in Washin'ton and wanted to git a glimpse of de President. I +didn't say nothin' to nobody 'bout what was on my mind, but atter my son +went to his wuk in de mornin' I slipped off to de capitol widout tellin' +nobody whar I was gwine. I found a waitin' room outside de President's +office and I made up my mind I would set dar 'til de President had to go +out for dinner or to go home for supper. I never thought about he might +have a side door he could come and go from widout usin' de door to de +waitin' room. Atter I had set dar in dat waitin' room de best part of +two days watchin' for de President, somebody said: 'Howdy, Uncle Ike! +What is you doin' here in de President's waitin' room?' I looked up and +dar stood Albon Holsey. He had growed up in Athens. He was de boy dey +'signed to wait on President Taft when he was at Miss Maggie Welch's +home for a day and night in January 'fore he was inaugurated. I bet +Albon is still got dat $5.00 Mr. Taft give him de mornin' he left +Athens, but he don't need to spend it now 'cause folks say he got rich +off of his chain of stores for colored folks, and anyhow he's got a fine +job dese days. Well, I s'plained to Albon dat I was jus' waitin' to git +a peep at de President whenever he happened to pass through dat room. +Albon he smiled sort of wise-like. He tuk out one of his cyards and writ +sompin on it, and axed a lady to take it right in to de President. She +warn't gone 2 minutes 'fore she come back and said: 'De President will +see Mr. Holsey and his friend now.' I was wuss skeered dan I has ever +been at any other time in my life. Us walked in and I was 'fraid de +President could hear my knees knockin' together, and my heart was +beatin' so fast and loud it seemed to me lak it was 'bout to bust. De +President spoke to us and when he found out dat I was from Athens, he +axed me lots of questions. He said dat he was interested in Athens. Soon +Albon said us must be goin' and when us got out of dar I was right weak, +but I was might proud and happy to think de President had tuk time to +talk pleasant lak wid a pore old Negro shoemaker. + +"Another time in Washin'ton a friend of my son's tuk me to a club one +night whar some of de richest of our race is members. Dat night I met a +man who had went to school wid de Mr. Teddy Roosevelt dat was President +atter Mr. McKinley; den I met another Negro dat had been a classmate of +President Hoover and one dat went to school wid President Franklin D. +Roosevelt. It's right strange how dey all heads for Washin'ton, D.C. to +stay. + +"Athens has allus been a real quiet town, and dere never was no real +serious trouble here 'tween de races, not even when Matt Davis and Pink +Morton was Postmasters here. People was allus predictin' trouble 'bout +dat, but de folks here was too level-headed for dat. Dey knowed dey +could straighten out deir own troubles widout havin' to fly off de +handle in a race riot, and so dey 'tended to deir own business' and de +races got along all right through it all. + +"Atter all, Athens is a good place to live in. Here us has de best +neighbors in de world; dey's allus ready to look atter one another in +times of sickness and trouble. Wid de kind of good, Christian folks dat +lives here, Athens is bound to go ahead." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +BENNY DILLARD, Age 80 +Cor. Broad and Derby Streets +Athens, Ga. + +Written by: +Grace McCune [HW: (white)] +Athens + +Edited by: Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + + +Benny's rocky little yard is gay with flowers and a flourishing rose +vine shades the small porch at the front of his ramshackle two-room +cabin. The old Negro was busily engaged at washing his clothes. He is of +medium size, darker than gingerbread in color, and his clothing on this +day consisted of a faded blue shirt, pants adorned with many patches, +and brogans. A frayed sun hat covered the gray hair that is "gittin' +mighty thin on de top of my haid." + +Benny was singing as he worked and his quavering old voice kept tune and +rhythm to a remarkable degree as he carefully and distinctly pronounced: + + "Jesus will fix it for you, + Just let Him have His way + He knows just how to do, + Jesus will fix it for you." + +Almost in the same breath he began another song: + + "All my sisters gone, + Mammy and Daddy too + Whar would I be if it warn't + For my Lord and Marster." + +About this time he looked up and saw his visitor. Off came the old sun +hat as he said: "'Scuse me, Missy, I didn't know nobody was listenin' to +dem old songs. I loves to sing 'em when I gits lonesome and blue. But +won't you come up on my porch and have a cheer in de shade? Dere's a +good breeze on dat little porch." Having placed a chair for the visitor +and made himself comfortable on a crude bench, Benny began his story: + +"Missy, de good Lord gives and he takes away, and us old darkies is +a-passin' out of dis world. Dat was why I was a-singin'. One of my +bestest friends done passed on to Glory dis very mornin'. I knows I'se +goin' to miss old Randal Clayton 'cause both of us warn't no good but +for to set and talk 'bout old times." Tears rolled down his face as he +told of his friend, and the visitor, fearful that he was too much +overcome by grief to be able to give a good story, suggested that +another engagement be made to record his reminiscences, but he objected. +"Lawsy, Missy!" he protested. "Please don't go now, for dem old times is +on my mind today and I would so love to talk 'bout 'em now, if you don't +mind. If I talks too much, jus' tell me, 'cause I'se mighty apt to do +dat when onct I gits started. + +"My Mammy and Daddy, dey warn't from dis part of de country. My Mammy +said dat not long atter she got to America from a trip on de water dat +took nigh 6 months to make, dey brung her from Virginny and sold her +down here in Georgy when she was jus' 'bout 16 years old. De onliest +name she had when she got to Georgy was Nancy. I don't know whar my +Daddy come from. Him and Mammy was both sold to Marse Isaac Dillard and +he tuk 'em to live on his place in Elbert County, close to de place dey +calls Goose Pond. Dey lived at home on dat big old plantation. By dat, I +means dat Marse Isaac growed evvything needed to feed and clothe his +folks 'cept de little sugar, coffee, and salt dey used. I don't 'member +so much 'bout times 'fore de big war 'cause I warn't but 6 years old +when us was made free. Tellin' de slaves dey was free didn't make much +diff'unce on our place, for most of 'em stayed right on dar and wukked +wid Old Marster jus' lak dey allus done. Dat plantation was jus' lak a +little town, it was so big and it had evvything us wanted and needed. + +"Slaves lived in log cabins what had red mud daubed in de cracks 'twixt +de logs. De roofs was made out of boards what had so many cracks 'twixt +'em, atter a few rains made 'em swink (shrink), dat us could lay in bed +and see de stars through dem big holes. Even if us did have leaky +houses, folkses didn't git sick half as much as dey does now. Our +homemade beds was made out of rough planks nailed to high poles; +leastways de poles was high for de headpieces, and a little lower for de +footpieces. For most of dem beds, planks was nailed to de wall for one +long side and dere was two laigs to make it stand straight on de other +long side. Dey never seed no metal springs dem days but jus' wove cords +back and forth, up and down and across, to lay de mattress on. I never +seed no sto'-bought bed 'til atter I was married. Bedticks was made out +of homespun cloth stuffed wid wheatstraw, and sometimes dey slept on rye +or oatstraw. Pillows was stuffed wid hay what had a little cotton mixed +in it sometimes. Atter a long day of wuk in de fields, nobody bothered +'bout what was inside dem pillows. Dey slept mighty good lak dey was. +Dey fixed planks to slide across de inside of de holes dey cut out for +windows. De doors swung on pegs what tuk de place of de iron hinges dey +uses dese days. Dem old stack chimblies was made out of sticks and red +mud. + +"De fireplaces was a heap bigger dan dey has now, for all de cookin' was +done in open fireplaces den. 'Taters and cornpone was roasted in de +ashes and most of de other victuals was biled in de big old pots what +swung on cranes over de coals. Dey had long-handled fryin' pans and +heavy iron skillets wid big, thick, tight-fittin' lids, and ovens of all +sizes to bake in. All of dem things was used right dar in de fireplace. +Dere never was no better tastin' somepin t'eat dan dat cooked in dem old +cook-things in open fireplaces. + +"Chillun never had no wuk to do. Dey jus' et and frolicked around +gittin' into evvything dey could find. Dey never got no lickin's 'less +dey was mighty bad, 'cause our Marster said he warn't gwine to 'low no +beatin' on his Niggers 'cept what he done his own self, and dat was +pow'ful little. In hot weather chillun played on de crick and de best +game of all was to play lak it was big meetin' time. White chillun loved +to play dar too wid de little slave chillun. Us would have make-believe +preachin' and baptizin' and de way us would sing was a sight. One of dem +songs us chillun loved de best went lak dis: + + 'Why does you thirst + By de livin' stream? + And den pine away + And den go to die. + + 'Why does you search + For all dese earthly things? + When you all can + Drink at de livin' spring, + And den can live.' + +"When us started playin' lak us was baptizin' 'em, us th'owed all us +could ketch right in de crick, clothes and all, and ducked 'em. Whilst +us was doin' dat, us was singin': + + 'Git on board, git on board + For de land of many mansions, + Same old train dat carried + My Mammy to de Promised Land.' + +"One day our Marster hid in de trees and watched us 'cause Mist'ess had +done been fussin' down 'bout chillun all comin' in soaked to de hide. He +waited 'til he seed all de preachin' and baptizin', den he hollered for +us to stop and he tuk de ones what was doin' all de baptizin' and made +'em pray and sing, den he ducked 'em good in de water and made us all go +up to de house to show Mist'ess how come so many of dem pore chillun +had done been gittin' wet so much. Us got a tannin' den dat Marster +'lowed would help us to git sho' 'nough 'ligion. + +"De wooden bowls what slave chillun et out of was made out of sweetgum +trees. Us et wid mussel shells 'stid of spoons. Dem mussel shells was +all right. Us could use 'em to git up plenty of bread and milk, or +cornpone soaked wid peas and pot likker. Dey never let chillun have no +meat 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Us had biscuit once a +week, dat was Sunday breakfast, and dem biscuits was cakebread to us. De +fust bought meat us chillun ever seed was a slab of side-meat Daddy got +from de sto' atter us had done left de plantation, and us was skeered to +eat it 'cause it warn't lak what us had been used to. + +"Chillun jus' wore one piece of clothes in summertime and dey all went +bar'foots. De gals' summer gyarment was a plain, sleeveless apron dress, +and de boys wore skimpy little shirts and nothin' else. Dey mixed +cow-hair wid de cotton when dey wove de cloth to make our winter clothes +out of, and I'm a-tellin' you Missy, dat cow-hair cloth sho' could +scratch, but it was good and warm and Marster seed to it dat us had all +de clothes us needed. De 'omans made all de cloth used on de place; dey +cyarded, spun, and den wove it. Mammy was de weaver; dat was all she +done, jus' wove cloth. Dey dyed it wid red mud and ink balls, and sich +lak. + +"Marster never lakked to git up real early hisself in slavery time, so +he had one man what got de Niggers up out of bed so early dat dey had +done et breakfast and was in de field when daylight come. Atter de war +was over and evvybody was free, all de Niggers used to jus' piddle and +play 'round evvy mornin' whilst dey was waitin' for Marster to come. Dem +and de mules would be jus' a-standin' still and when de word was passed +dat Marster had done got up all of 'em would start off wid a rush, jus' +a-hollerin': 'Whoa, dar! Gee haw!' jus' lak dey had done been wukkin' +hard all mornin'. One day Marster cotch 'em at it, and he didn't say a +word 'til time come to pay off, and he tuk out for all de time dey had +lost. + +"Sometimes slaves run away and hid out in caves. Dey would pile up rocks +and sticks and pine limbs to hide de caves, and sometimes dey would stay +hid out for weeks, and de other Niggers would slip 'em somepin t'eat at +night. Dere warn't many what run off on our place, 'cause our Marster +was so good to all of 'em dat dere warn't nothin' to run from. + +"Marster made all his wuk tools at home. Plow-sheers was made out of +wood trimmed to de right shape and fastened to a iron point. When dey +was plowin' in de young cotton, dey nailed a board on one side of de +plow to rake de dirt back up 'round de cotton plants. + +"Marster's gin was turned by a mule. Dat big old gin wheel had wooden +cogs what made de gin wuk when de old mule went 'round and 'round +hitched to dat wheel. Dat old cotton press was a sight. Fust dey cut +down a big old tree and trimmed off de limbs and made grooves in it for +planks to fit in. It was stood up wid a big weight on top of it, over de +cotton what was to be pressed. It was wukked by a wheel what was turned +by a mule, jus' lak de one what turned de gin. A old mule pulled de pole +what turned de syrup mill too. Missy, dem old mules done deir part 'long +side de Niggers dem days, and Marster seed dat his mules had good keer +too. When dem mules had done turned de mill 'til de juice was squez out +of de sugarcane stalks, dey strained dat juice and biled it down 'til it +was jus' de finest tastin' syrup you ever did see. Marster's mill whar +he ground his wheat and corn was down on de crick, so de water could +turn de big old wheel. + +"Dem old cornshuckin's was sho' 'nough big times, 'cause us raised so +much corn dat it tuk several days to shuck it all. Us had to have two +generals. Dey chose sides and den dey got up on top of de biggest piles +of corn and kept de slaves a-singin' fast so dey would wuk fast. De fust +crowd what finished got de prize. Dere ain't much I can 'member of words +to dem old cornshuckin' songs. One general would start off singin': +'Shuck up dis corn, shuck up dis corn, 'cause us is gwine home,' and de +other general would be a-shoutin': 'Make dem shucks fly, make dem shucks +fly, us is gwine to go home.' Over and over dey kept on singin' dem +lines. Come nighttime Marster would have big bonfires built up and set +out torches for 'em to see how to wuk, and evvy time he passed 'round +dat jug of corn likker shucks would fly some faster. When all de corn +was done shucked and de big supper had been et, dere was wrastlin' +matches and dancin' and all sorts of frolickin'. + +"'Til dey could git a colored preacher, slaves had to go to church wid +deir white folks. Missy, I 'members yit, de fust preacher I ever heared. +He was a white man, Preacher Gibson dey called him, and his sermons made +you mind what you was 'bout 'cause he preached straight from de Bible. +Dat day when I fust heared him his text was: 'If you gits lost in sin, +den you is lost from God's word, and will have to be borned again.' +Dat's de trufe, Missy, it sho' is. Young folks dese days is headed plumb +straight for 'struction, 'cause dey won't listen to de Gospel. If dey +don't change from de way dey is goin' now de old debbil is gwine to +ketch 'em sho. All of us had better mind what us is 'bout, for 'ligion +most times now is by our own minds and thoughts, and somebody else is +apt to follow de 'ligion he sees in us. De Bible says to teach young +folks de way dey should go, and dey won't depart from deir raisin'. You +sho' can't raise 'em right by jus' teachin' 'em dese days; it evermore +do take plenty of layin' on of dat rod. I would jus' lak to see how dese +young folks would lak it if dey had to ride for miles and miles in a +oxcart, or else walk it, to git to 'tend church. Dere wouldn't be many +of de ones I knows 'round here would git dar. Us used to have four +steers hitched to our old cart, and it was slow-goin', but us got dar. + +"Atter us got our own churches us still had to have white preachers for +a long time and den us was 'lowed to have colored preachers. When +somebody wanted to jine our church us 'zamined 'em, and if us didn't +think dey was done ready to be tuk in de church, dey was told to wait +and pray 'til dey had done seed de light. Anybody can jine up wid de +church now, Missy, and it ain't right de way dey lets 'em come in widout +'zaminin' 'em. De good Lord sho' don't lak dat way of handlin' His +church business. One of dem cand-i-dates was a mean Nigger and our +preacher and deacons wouldn't let him in our church. Den he went over to +another church and told 'em dat he had talked wid de Lord 'bout how us +wouldn't let him jine up wid us, and he 'lowed dat de Lord said to him: +'Dat's all right. I done been tryin' to jine up in dat church for 15 +years myself, and can't git in, so you go on and jine another church.' +Dat other church let dat bad Nigger in and it warn't long 'fore dey had +to turn him out, 'cause he warn't fittin' to be in no church. + +"Our preacher used to give us parables. One of 'em was lak dis: 'I'se +seed good cotton growin' in de grass.' He 'splained it dat dere was some +good in de wust sinners. Another of his parables was: 'If you can't keep +up wid de man at de foot, how is you gwine to keep up wid de higher-up +folks?' Dat meant if you can't sarve God here below, how is you gwine to +git along wid him if you gits to Heben? Our preacher told us to sarve +both our marsters. De fust Marster was God, he said, and de other one +was our white marster. + +"I ain't never been inside no courtroom and don't never 'spect to be +dar, 'cause, missy, I don't mind nobody's business but my own, and dat's +all I can do. + +"No Mam, I don't never git much sick. I had a bad old haid cold last +winter, but I stopped dat wid coal oil and by breathin' in smoke from +scorched leather. Light'ood splinter tea is helpful when I has a chist +cold. Salts ain't de best thing for old folks to be doctored wid. I +takes common cookin' soda sweetened wid a little sugar. Dem is old-time +doses from way back in de old days, and I still use 'em all. + +"Durin' of de war time, soda and salt was both hard to git. Dey biled +down de dirt from under old smokehouses to git salt, and soda was made +out of burnt corncobs. You would be s'prised to see what good cookin' +could be done wid dat old corncob soda. + +"Us wukked for Mr. Green Hubbard de fust year us left de old plantation, +but he wouldn't pay us so us left him and rented some land to farm. Den +I went to wuk for Mr. Stephens and stayed wid him 25 years. He was one +of de owners of de Georgy Railroad and I used to drive for him when he +went to 'Gusty (Augusta) to dem board meetin's. He had one of dem +old-time gins what run by mule power, and us sho' did gin a heap of +cotton. Lots of times he had us to haul it all de way to 'Gusty on dem +wagons. Mr. Stephens' place was at Crawford, Georgy. + +"Me and my gal runned away to git married. If you please, Mam, come +inside and look at her pitcher. Ain't she a fine lookin' gal? Well, she +was jus' as good as she looks. I keeps her pitcher hangin' right over my +bed so as I can look at her all de time." The small room was tidy and +clean. In one corner a narrow, single bed, neatly made, stood beneath +the picture of Benny's wife, Mary. The picture showed a young woman +dressed in white in the style of the period when tight waists and +enormous puffed sleeves were in vogue. An old washstand supporting a +huge mirror, a small table, evidently used as a dining table, two +chairs, a small cupboard filled with dishes, and a small, wood-burning +stove completed the furnishings of the room. Back on the porch again, +Benny resumed the story of his marriage. + +"Her daddy wouldn't 'gree for us to git married 'cause he wanted her to +stay on and wuk for him. She warn't but seventeen. My boss-man let us +use his hoss and buggy and, Missy, dat fast hoss is what saved de day +for us. When I got to whar I was to meet her, I seed her runnin' down de +road wid her daddy atter her fast as he could go on foot. I snatched her +up in dat buggy and it seemed lak dat hoss knowed us was in a hurry +'cause he sho' did run. Squire Jimmie Green married us and when us got +back to my boss-man's house her daddy had done got dar and was a-raisin' +cane. Boss Stephens, he come out and told her daddy to git on 'way from +dar and let us 'lone, 'cause us was done married and dere warn't nothin' +could be done 'bout it. Us had a hard time gittin' started housekeepin', +'cause my daddy couldn't holp us none. Our bed was one of dem home-made +ones nailed to de side of de house. Us lived together 43 years 'fore de +Lord tuk her home to Heben 15 years ago. Dem 43 years was all of 'em +happy years. Since she's been gone I'se mighty lonesome, but it won't be +long now 'til I see her, for I'se ready to go whenever de Good Lord +calls me." + + + + +[HW: Atlanta +Dist. 5 +Driskell] + +THE EXPERIENCE OF GEORGE EASON IN SLAVERY TIME +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Mr. George Eason was born in Forsyth, Ga., on the plantation of Mr. Jack +Ormond. In addition to himself there were six other children, one of +whom was his twin brother. He and his brother were the oldest members of +this group of children. His mother, who was the master's cook, had +always belonged to the Ormond family while his father belonged to +another family, having been sold while he (George) was still a baby. + +It so happened that Mr. Ormond was a wealthy planter and in addition to +the plantation that he owned in the country, he also maintained a large +mansion in the town. + +The first few years of his life were spent in town where he helped his +mother in the kitchen by attending to the fire, getting water, etc. He +was also required to look after the master's horse. Unlike most other +slave owners who allowed their house servants to sleep in the mansion, +Mr. Ormond had several cabins built a short distance in the rear of his +house to accommodate those who were employed in the house. This house +group consisted of the cook, seamstress, maid, butler, and the wash +woman. Mr. Eason and those persons who held the above positions always +had good food because they got practically the same thing that was +served to the master and his family. They all had good clothing--the +women's dresses being made of calico, and the butler's suits of good +grade cloth, the particular kind of which Mr. Eason knows nothing about. +He himself wore a one-piece garment made of crocus. + +Mr. Eason was about 7 or 8 years of age when he was first sent to work +in the field. It was then that his troubles began. He says that he was +made to get up each morning at sun-up and that after going to the field +he had to toil there all day until the sun went down. He and his fellow +slaves had to work in all types of weather, good as well as bad. +Although the master or the overseer were not as cruel as some he had +heard of they tolerated no looseness of work and in case a person was +suspected of loafing the whip was applied freely. Although he was never +whipped, he has heard the whip being applied to his mother any number of +times. It hurt him, he says, because he had to stand back unable to +render any assistance whatever. (This happened before he was sent to the +plantation.) When his mother got these whippings she always ran off +afterwards and hid in the woods which were nearby. At night she would +slip to the cabin to get food and while there would caution him and the +other children not to tell the master that they had seen her. The +master's wife who was very mean was always the cause of her receiving +these lashings. + +Some nights after he and the other slaves had left the field they were +required to do extra work such as ginning cotton and shelling peas and +corn, etc. The young women were required to work that in some respects +was as hard as that the men did, while the older women usually did +lighter work. When the time came to pick the cotton all hands were +converted into pickers. Night was the only time that they had to do +their washing and to cultivate the small gardens they were allowed to +have. + +During the months when there was little field work to do they were kept +busy repairing fences, etc. on the farm. Every day was considered a +working day except Sunday, Thanksgiving and Christmas. They were not +allowed to celebrate on these days as were the slaves on other nearby +plantations. + +Clothing on the Ormond plantation was usually insufficient to satisfy +the needs of the slave. Each year one issue was given each slave. For +the men this issue consisted of 1 pair of brogan shoes, several homespun +shirts, a few pairs of knitted socks, and two or three pairs of pants. +The brogans were made of such hard leather until the wearers' feet were +usually blistered before the shoes were "broken in." The women, in +addition to a pair of shoes and some cotton stockings were given several +homespun dresses. On one occasion Mr. Eason says that he wore his shoes +out before time for an issue of clothing. It was so cold until the skin +on his feet cracked, causing the blood to flow. In spite of this his +master would give him no more shoes. All clothing was made on the +plantation except the shoes. + +Those women who were too old for field work did the sewing in addition +to other duties to be described later. + +Indigo was cultivated for dyeing purposes and in some instances a dye +was made by boiling walnut leaves and walnut hulls in water. In addition +to her duties as cook, Mr. Eason's mother had to also weave part of the +cloth. He told of how he had to sit up at night and help her and how she +would "crack" him on the head for being too slow at times. + +The amount of food given each slave was also inadequate as a general +rule. At the end of each week they all went to a certain spot on the +plantation where each was given 1 peck of meal, 1 gal. of syrup, and 3 +pounds of meat. They often suffered from that particular stomach ailment +commonly known as hunger. At such times raids were made on the +smokehouse. This was considered as stealing by the master and the +overseer but to them it was merely taking that which they had worked +for. At other times they increased their food by hunting and fishing. +Possums and coons were the usual game from such a hunting expedition. +All meals usually consisted of grits, bacon, syrup, corn bread and +vegetables. On Sundays and holidays the meals varied to the extent that +they were allowed to have biscuits which they called "cake bread." The +slaves made coffee by parching corn meal, okra seed or Irish potatoes. +When sufficiently parched any one of the above named would make a vile +type of coffee. Syrup was used for all sweetening purposes. The produce +from the gardens which the master allowed them could only be used for +home consumption and under no circumstances could any of it be sold. + +The cabins that the slaves occupied were located on one section of the +plantation known as the "quarters." These dwellings were crude +one-roomed structures usually made from logs. In order to keep the +weather out mud was used to close the openings between the logs. In +most instances the furnishing of a cabin was complete after a bed, a +bench (both of which were made by the slave) and a few cooking utensils +had been placed in it. As there were no stoves for slave use all cooking +was done at the fireplace, which, like the chimney, was made of mud and +stones. One or two openings served the purpose of windows, and shutters +were used instead of glass. The mattresses on which they slept were made +from hay, grass or straw. When a light was needed a tallow candle or a +pine knot was lighted. + +Absolute cleanliness was required at all times and the floors, if they +were made of wood, had to be swept and scrubbed often. In addition to +the private dwellings there was one large house where all children not +old enough to go to the field were kept. One or two of the older women +took charge of them, seeing that they had a sufficient amount of corn +bread, vegetables and milk each day. All were fed from a trough like +little pigs. + +These old women were also responsible for the care of the sick. When +asked if a doctor was employed, Mr. Eason replied that one had to be +mighty sick to have the services of a doctor. The usual treatment for +sick slaves was castor oil, which was given in large doses, salts and a +type of pill known as "hippocat." (ipecac) + +Although they were not permitted any formal type of learning religious +worship it was not denied them. Each Sunday Mr. Ormond required that all +his slaves attend church. All went to the white church where they sat in +back and listened to the sermon of a white preacher. Mr. Eason says that +the slaves believed in all kinds of and every conceivable type of signs. +Their superstitions usually had to do with methods of conjure. + +A preacher was never used to perform a wedding ceremony on the Ormond +plantation. After the man told the master about the woman of his choice +and she had been called and had agreed to the plan, all that was +necessary was for the couple to join hands and jump over a broom which +had been placed on the ground. + +Mr. Ormond permitted few if any celebrations or frolics to take place on +his farm. When he did grant this privilege his slaves were permitted to +invite their friends who of course had to get a "pass" from their +respective masters. They, too, were required to secure a pass from Mr. +Ormond if they wanted to visit off the premises. If caught by the +"Paddle Rollers" (Patrollers) without this pass they were soundly +whipped and then taken to their master. + +At the beginning of the Civil War all the slaves talked among themselves +concerning the possible outcome of the war. However, they never let the +master or the overseer hear them because it meant a whipping. + +When Sherman and his army marched through they burned all the gin houses +on the Ormond plantation and took all the available live stock. Mr. +Ormond took a few prized possessions and a few slaves (one of whom was +Mr. Eason) and fled to Augusta, Ga. + +After freedom was declared he was still held in bondage and hired out by +the day. Once he ran away but was found and brought back. In 1867 the +remaining members of the Ormond family moved to Atlanta, bringing him +along with them. After most of them had died he was finally permitted to +go or stay as he pleased. + +Immediately after freedom had been declared he had the good fortune to +find his father. However, he never got a chance to spend any time with +him as the Ormonds refused to release him. + +Says Mr. Eason: "Slavery had a good point in that we slaves always felt +that somebody was going to take care of us." He says that he has heard +some wish for the good old days but as for himself he prefers things to +remain as they are at present. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +CALLIE ELDER, Age 78 +640 W. Hancock Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +[JUN 6 1938] + + +Callie lives with her daughter, Cornelia, in a 6-room house near the +crest of a hill. Their abode is a short distance from the street and is +reached by steep stone steps. In response to the call for Callie, a tall +mulatto woman appeared. Her crudely fashioned blue dress was of a coarse +cotton fabric and her dingy head rag had long lost its original color. +Straight black hair, streaked with gray, and high cheek bones gave the +impression that in her ancestry of mixed races, Indian characteristics +predominate. Her constant use of snuff causes frequent expectoration and +her favorite pastime seems to be the endeavor to attain an incredible +degree of accuracy in landing each mouthful of the amber fluid at the +greatest possible distance. As she was about to begin conversation, a +little yellow boy about five years old ran into the room and Callie +said: "'Scuse me please, I can't talk 'til I gits my grandboy off so he +won't be late to school at Little Knox. Set down in dat dar cheer and +I'll be right back." + +Soon Callie returned and it was evident that her curiosity was aroused. +When the interviewer explained the purpose of the visit, she exclaimed: +"Lordy! Miss, what is de government gwine do next? For de God's truth, I +never knowed I would have to tell nobody what happened back in dem days, +so its jus' done slipped out of my mind. + +"Anyhow, I warn't even born in Clarke County. I was born in Floyd +County, up nigh Rome, Georgia, on Marse Billy Neal's plantation. Ann and +Washin'ton Neal was my Mammy and Pappy. No Ma'am, no preacher never +married 'em. Marse Billy Neal, he owned bofe of 'em and atter my Pappy +axed him could he marry Mammy, Marse Billy made 'em go up to de hall of +de big house and jump backwards over a broom. + +"Dere was six of us chillun: me and Frances, Beulah, Thomas, Felix, and +Scott. Dere was mighty little wuk done by chillun in slav'ry days. I +jus' played 'round and kicked up my heels wid de rest of de chillun. +When us played our hidin' game, us sung somepin' lak dis: + + 'Mollie, Mollie Bright + Three score and ten, + Can I git dere by candlelight? + Yes, if your laigs is long enough!' + +"Sometimes us played what us called de 'Crow' game. Us spread our +fingers out, side by side and counted 'em out wid a rhyme. De one de +last word of de rhyme fell on had to be de crow. I didn't love to be +counted out and made de crow, but it was a heap of fun to count de +others out. Since I been knee high to a grasshopper, I ain't never done +nothin' but wuk 'round white folks' houses. + +"Our log cabins what us lived in was daubed inside and out wid mud to +keep out bad weather. Our beds was held together by cords what was +twisted evvy which way. You had to be mighty careful tightenin' dem +cords or de beds was liable to fall down. Us slept on wheat straw +mattresses and had plenty of good warm quilts for kiver. + +"Grown folks was fed cornbread and meat wid plenty of vegetables in de +week days and on Sunday mornin's dey give 'em wheat bread, what was +somethin' slaves didn't see no more 'til de next Sunday mornin'. 'Bout +four o'clock on summer atternoons, dey sot a big old wooden bowl full of +cornbread crumbs out in de yard and poured in buttermilk or potliquor +'til de crumbs was kivered. Den dey let de chillun gather 'round it and +eat 'til de bowl was empty. In winter chillun was fed inside de house. + +"'Possums, Oh, mussy me! My grandpa hunted 'possums at night and fetched +in two and three at a time. Don't say nothin' 'bout dem rabbits for dere +warn't no end to 'em. Rabbits stewed, rabbits fried, and rabbits dried, +smoked, and cured lak hog meat! I et so many rabbits when I was young I +can't stand to look at 'em now but I could eat 'possums and gnaw de +bones all day long. Marse Billy let grandpa go fishin' and he was all +time bringin' back a passel of minnows and other fishes. Us rubbed 'em +down wid lard and salt and pepper, den rolled 'em in cornmeal and baked +'em. I never seed no fried meat 'til I was a big strappin' gal. Dere was +one big gyarden whar dey raised 'nough vegetables for all de white folks +and slaves too. All de bilin' was done in pots swung on cranes over +coals in de fireplace. + +"Our clothes was made new for us in de fall out of cloth wove in looms +right dar on de plantation. Top clothes was dyed wid hick'ry bark. De +full skirts was gathered to tight fittin' waisties. Underskirts was made +de same way. De dresses had done wore thin 'nough for hot weather by de +time winter was gone so us wore dem same clothes straight on through de +summer, only us left off de underskirts den. Slave chillun didn't never +wear no shoes. Our foots cracked open 'til dey looked lak goose foots. +Us wore de same on Sunday as evvy day, 'cept dat our clothes was clean, +and stiff wid meal starch when us got into 'em on Sunday mornin's. + +"Marse Billie Neal was our owner and Miss Peggy was his old 'oman. Dey +was jus' as good to us as dey could be. Deir two chillun was Marse Tom +and Marse Mid. De car'iage driver never had much to do but drive Marse +Billy and Miss Peggy 'round and, course he had to see dat de hosses and +car'iage was kept clean and shiny. I don't 'member if he tuk de chillun +'round. Chillun didn't stand de show dey does now. + +"Oh, no Ma'am, I sho' can't tell nothin' t'all 'bout how big dat old +plantation was, but it was one whoppin' big place. Dere was too many +slaves on dat plantation for me to count. De overseer got 'em up by 4:00 +o'clock and de mens had to be in de fields by sunrise. De 'omans went +out 'bout 8:00 o'clock. Dey stopped wuk at sundown and by de time dey et +and done de chores for de day it was 10:00 o'clock 'fore dey hit de bed. +De cabins was built in a circle and de overseer went de rounds evvy +night to see if de slaves was in bed. + +"Yes Ma'am, dey whupped de Niggers. My Pappy and grandpa was de wust +ones 'bout gittin' licked. Evvy time Pappy runned away Marse Billy +sicked dem hounds on his heels and dey was sho' to ketch him and fetch +him back. Dey had to keep knives from Pappy or when dem dogs cotch him +he would jus' cut 'em up so dey would die. When dey got him back to de +house, dey would buckle him down over a barrel and larrup him wid a +plaited whup. 'Omans warn't whupped much. My grandpa York was so bad +'bout runnin' 'way Marse Billy made him wear long old horns. One Sunday +Marse Billy went by our church to see if all his Niggers was dar what +was sposen to be dar. And dere grandpa was a-sottin' wid dem horns on +his head. Marse Billy told him he could take de horns off his head +whilst he was in de meetin' house. At dat grandpa dropped dem horns, and +lit a rag to de woods and it tuk de dogs days to find him. + +"If one slave kilt another, Marse Billy made de overseer tie dat dead +Nigger to de one what kilt him, and de killer had to drag de corpse +'round 'til he died too. De murderers never lived long a-draggin' dem +daid ones 'round. Dat jus' pyorely skeered 'em to death. Dere was a +guard house on de farm, whar de wust Niggers was kept, and while dey was +in dat guard house, dey warn't fed but once a day. It warn't nothin' +unusual for Marse Billy to sell slaves, but he never sold his best +Niggers. De ones he sold was allus dem he couldn't git no wuk out of. + +"Not a Nigger could read or write on Marse Billy's plantation. Dey was +all too dumb to larn. Dere was a shackly sort of church house on our +plantation and on Sundays atter de Niggers had cleaned deyselfs up, if +dey told Marse Billy dey wanted to go to church, he sent 'em on. All I +knows 'bout baptizin's is dey jus' tuk 'em to de river and plunged 'em +in. Dey sung somepin' 'bout: 'Gwine to de River for to be Baptized.' Us +had prayer meetin's on Wednesday nights sometimes. + +"Oh, Mussy! Don't ax me 'bout fun'rals. I got de misery in my laigs and +I feels too bad dis mornin' to let myself even think 'bout fun'rals. +Back den when slave folks died dey jus' put 'em in home-made pine +coffins what dey throwed in a wagon and tuk 'em to de graveyard. At dem +buryin's, dey used to sing: + + 'Am I born to die + To let dis body down.' + +"None of our Niggers ever runned away to de North. Dey was too busy +runnin' off to de woods. Jus' to tell de truth dem Niggers on our place +was so dumb dey didn't even take in 'bout no North. Dey didn't even know +what de war was 'bout 'til it was all over. I don't know whar to start +'bout dem patterollers. Dey was de devil turned a-loose. Dere was a song +'bout 'Run Nigger run, de patteroller git you!' and dey sho' would too, +I want to tell you. + +"What de slaves done on Saddy night? Dey done anything dey was big +'nough to do. Dere warn't no frolickin' 'cept on Sadday night. Niggers +on our place wukked all day Sadday 'cept once a month. Some of de slaves +would slip off and stay half a day and de overseer wouldn't miss 'em +'cause dere was so many in de field. It was jus' too bad for any Nigger +what got cotched at dat trick. Sadday night, slaves was 'lowed to git +together and frolic and cut de buck. + +"Christmas Day Marse Billy called us to de big house and give us a +little fresh meat and sweet bread, dat was cake. Christmas warn't much +diff'unt f'um other times. Jus' more t'eat. Us jus' had dat one day off, +and New Year's Day was used as a holiday too. + +"Oh, dem cornshuckin's! All day 'fore a cornshuckin' dey hauled corn and +put it in great piles as high as dis here house. Us sung all de time us +was shuckin' corn. Dere was a lot of dem old shuckin' songs. De one us +sung most was: 'Whooper John and Calline all night.' Marse Billy, he +give 'em coffee and whiskey all night and dat made 'em git rough and +rowdy. Den de shucks did fly. Us had one more grand feast when de last +ear of corn had done been shucked. Dere warn't nothin' lackin'. + +"Cotton pickin's warn't planned for fun and frolic lak cornshuckin's. If +Marse Billy got behind in his crops, he jus' sent us back to de fields +at night when de moon was bright and sometimes us picked cotton all +night long. Marster give de 'oman what picked de most cotton a day off, +and de man what picked de most had de same privilege. + +"Old Aunt Martha what nussed de chillun while deir Mammies wukked in de +field was de quiltin' manager. It warn't nothin' for 'omans to quilt +three quilts in one night. Dem quilts had to be finished 'fore dey +stopped t'eat a bit of de quiltin' feast. Marse Billy 'vided dem quilts +out 'mongst de Niggers what needed 'em most. + +"Dem blue and white beads what de grown 'omans wore was jus' to look +pretty. Dey never meant nothin' else. Mammy would skeer us down 'bout +Rawhead and Bloody Bones. Us was all time a-lookin' for him, but he +never got dar. What skeered us most was painters (panthers) a-howlin' +close to our cabins at night. You could hear 'em most any night. When +Mammy wanted to make us behave all she had to say was: 'I hears dem +painters comin'!' Dat made us jus' shake all over and git mighty still +and quiet. De mens tried to run dem painters down, but dey never did +ketch one. + +"One of de cabins was allus ha'nted atter some of de slaves got kilt in +it whilst dey was fightin'. Nobody never could live in dat cabin no more +atter dat widout ha'nts gittin' atter 'em. De wust of 'em was a 'oman +ha'nt what you could hear sweepin' up leaves in de yard and all dat time +you might be lookin' hard and not see a leaf move. In dat cabin you +could all time hear ha'nts movin' cheers and knockin' on de wall. Some +of dem ha'nts would p'int a gun in your face if you met 'em in de dark. +Dem ha'nts was too much for me. + +"Our white folks was good as dey knowed how to be when us got sick. I +don't 'member dat dey ever had a doctor for de slaves, but dey give us +all kinds of home-brewed teas. Pinetops, mullein and fat light'ood +splinters was biled together and de tea was our cure for diff'unt +ailments. Scurvy grass tea mixed wid honey was good for stomach +troubles, but you sho' couldn't take much of it at a time. It was de +movin'est medicine! Round our necks us wore asafetida sacks tied on +strings soaked in turpentine. Dat was to keep diseases off of us. + +"What does I 'member 'bout de war? Well, it was fit to fetch our +freedom. Marse Billy had a fine stallion. When de sojers was comin', he +sont Pappy to de woods wid dat stallion and some gold and told him not +to let dem yankees find 'em. Dat stallion kept squealin' 'til de yankees +found him, and dey tuk him and de gold too. Grandma was a churnin' away +out on de back porch and she had a ten dollar gold piece what she didn't +want dem sojers to steal, so she drapped it in de churn. Dem yankees +poured dat buttermilk out right dar on de porch floor and got grandma's +money. Marse Billy hid hisself in a den wid some more money and other +things and dey didn't find him. Dey tuk what dey wanted of what dey +found and give de rest to de slaves. Atter de sojers left, de Niggers +give it all back to Marster 'cause he had allus been so good to 'em. + +"Us stayed on wid Marse Billy for sev'ral years atter de war. He paid us +$10 a month and he 'lowanced out de rations to us evvy week; most allus +on Monday 'cause Sundays us had 'nough company to eat it all at one +time. He give us three pounds of fat meat, a peck of meal, a peck of +flour, 25¢ worth of sugar, and a pound of coffee. Dat had to last a +whole week. + +"I didn't take in nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis and dat +dar Booker T. Washin'ton man, but I heared folks say dey was all right. + +"What is you talkin' 'bout Miss? I didn't need to have no big weddin' +when I married Lige Elder. It was a big 'nough thing to git a man lak +what I got. What did I want to have a big weddin' for when all I was +atter was my man? Us had done been married 25 years 'fore us had no +chillun. Dis here Cornelia what I lives wid was our first chile. She +ain't got no chillun. Isaac, my boy, has got four chillun. My old man +died 'bout two years ago. + +"I j'ined de church 'cause I was happy and wanted de world to know I had +done got 'ligion. I think evvybody ought to git 'ligion. God says if us +do right he will give us all a home in His Heaven. + +"I'd rather have de days as dey is now in some ways. But one thing I +does lak to do is eat and us had a plenty of good eatin' den and never +had to worry none 'bout whar it was a-comin' f'um. Miss, ain't you +through axin' me questions yet? I'm tired of talkin'. I done let de fire +go out under my washpot twice. Dem white folks ain't gwine to lak it if +dey has to wait for deir clothes, and dis misery in my laigs, it sho' +does hurt me bad dis mornin'." + + + + +MARTHA EVERETTE, EX-SLAVE +Hawkinsville, Georgia + +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson--1936) +[JUL 20 1937] + + +Born in Pulaski County about 1848, the daughter of Isaac and Amanda +Lathrop, Martha Everette has lived all her life near where she was born. + +Prior to freedom, her first job was "toting in wood", from which she was +soon "promoted" to waiting on the table, house cleaning, etc. She make +no claims to have ever "graduated" as a cook, as so many old +before-the-war Negresses do. + +"Aunt" Martha's owner was a kind man: he never whipped the slaves, but +the overseer "burnt 'em up sometimes." And her mother was a "whipper, +too"--a woman that "fanned" her children religiously, so to speak, not +overlooking Martha. All the Watson slaves attended the (White) Baptist +church at Blue Springs. + +Rations were distributed on Sunday morning of each week, and the slaves +had plenty to eat. The slaves were also allowed to fish, thus often +adding variety to their regular fare. + +Negro women were taught to sew by the overseers' wives, and most of the +slaves' clothes were made from cloth woven on the plantation. The +Yankees visited the Lathrop plantation in '65, asked for food, received +it, and marched on without molesting anything or any body. Truly, these +were well-behaved Yankees! + +"Aunt" Martha says that she remembers quite well when the Yankees +captured Jefferson Davis. She and other slave children were in the "big +house" yard when they heard drums beating, and soon saw the Yankees pass +with Mr. Davis. + +"Aunt" Martha, now old and decrepit, lives with one of her sons, who +takes care of her. This son is a gardener and a carpenter and, being +thrifty, fares much better than many Negroes of his generation. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex-Slave #30] +By E. Driskell +Typed by A.M. Whitley +1-29-37 + +FIRST COPY OF ARTICLE ENTITLED: +"AN INTERVIEW WITH LEWIS FAVOR," EX-SLAVE +[MAY 8 1937] + +[TR: informant also referred to as Favors in this document.] + + +Among Atlanta's few remaining ex-slaves is one Lewis Favors. When he +fully understood this worker's reasons for approaching him he consented +to tell what he had seen and experienced as a slave. Chewing slowly on a +large wad of tobacco he began his account in the following manner: "I +was born in Merriweather County in 1855 near the present location of +Greenville, Georgia. Besides my mother there were eight of us children +and I was elder than all of them with one exception. Our owner was Mrs. +Favors, but she was known to everybody as the "Widow Favors." My father +was owned by a Mr. Darden who had a plantation in this same county. When +the "Widow's" husband died he left her about one-hundred acres of land +and a large sum of money and so she was considered as being rich. She +didn't have many slaves of her own and so her son (also a plantation +owner) used to send some of his slaves over occasionally to help +cultivate her crops, which consisted of cotton, corn, and all kinds of +vegetables." + +In regard to her treatment of the slaves that she held Mr. Favors says: +"She wasn't so tight and then she was pretty tight too." + +Those slaves who were field hands were in the field and at work by the +time it was light enough to see. They plowed, hoed, and then later in +the season gathered the crops. After the harvesting was over the fences +were repaired and rails were split. In rainy weather nobody had to work +out of doors, instead they shelled the peas and corn and sometimes +ginned the cotton. At night the women were required to spin and to +weave. In the winter season no work was required at night unless they +had not spun as much thread as was required. At such times they had to +work at night until the amount set had been reached. + +Mr. Favor's mother was the cook for the "Widow Favors" and her two +neices who lived with her. The Favors had paid the owner of a hotel Four +hundred dollars to have the hotel cook teach her (Mr. Favors mother) to +prepare all kinds of fancy dishes. His father was a field hand on the +Darden plantation. In addition to this he repaired all the shoes when +this was necessary. + +As a child Mr. Favors was not very strong physically and because of this +the "Widow" made him her pet. He never had to do any work other than +that of waiting on the mistress while she ate her meals. Even in this he +had to get up at four o'clock in the morning and help his mother in the +kitchen. Sometimes he would sweep the yards if he felt like doing so. +When he grew older he was given the task of picking the seed out of the +cotton at night. + +On Sundays all the servants were free to do as they pleased, that is, +with the exception of Mr. Favors, his mother, and the two women who +serve as maids to the "Widow's" two neices. At other times if a task was +done before the day was over with they were given the remaining time to +do as they pleased. However, everybody had a one week holiday at +Christmas. + +Mr. Favors made the following statement in regard to the clothing: +"Everybody wore the homespun cotton clothes that were made on the +plantation by the slave women. The women wore striped ausenberg dresses +while the men wore ausenberg pants and shirts that had been made into +one garment. My clothes were always better than the other little +fellows, who ran around in their shirttails because I was always in the +house of the "Widow." They used red clay to do the dyeing with. In the +winter time cracked feet were common. The grown people wore heavy shoes +called brogans while I wore the cast-off shoes of the white ladies. We +all wrapped our feet in bagging sacks to help them to keep warm. We +were given one complete outfit of clothes each year and these had to +last until the time for the next issue." + +Sheets for the beds were also made out of homespun material while the +heavier cover such as the quilts, etc., were made from the dresses and +the other clothing that was no longer fit for wear. + +As a general rule all of the slaves on this plantation had enough food +to keep them well and healthy. At the end of each week the field hands +were given enough food to last them seven days. For most of them the +week's supply consisted of three and one-half pounds of pork or fat +meat, one peck of meal, flour, and black molasses. The only meals that +they had to prepare from the above mentioned articles were breakfast and +supper. Dinner was cooked in the plantation kitchen by one of the women +who was too old for work in the fields. For this particular meal the +slaves had some different type of vegetable each day along with the fat +meat, corn bread, and the pot liquor which was served every day. They +were allowed to come in from the fields to the house to be served. +Breakfast usually consisted of fat meat, molasses, and corn bread while +supper consisted of pot-liquor, bread, and milk. The only variation from +this diet was on Sunday when all were allowed to have bisquits instead +of corn bread. Mr. Favors was asked what happened if anyone's food was +all eaten before it was time for the weekly issue and he answered: "It +was just too bad for them 'cause they would have to do the best they +could until the time came to get more." When such a thing happened to +anyone the others usually helped as far as their limited supplies would +permit. + +Mr. Favors says that he, his mother, and the two maids ate the same kind +of food that the "Widow," and her nieces were served. After he had seen +to the wants of all at the table he had to take a seat at the table +beside his owner where he ate with her and the others seated there. + +There were two one-roomed cabins located directly behind the four-roomed +house of the "Widow," the entire lot of them were built out of logs. +These two cabins were for the use of those servants who worked in the +house of their owner. At one end of each cabin there was a wide +fireplace which was made of sticks, stones, and dried mud. Instead of +windows there were only one or two small holes cut in the back wall of +the cabin. The beds were made out of heavy planks and were called +"Georgia Looms," by the slaves. Wooden slats were used in the place of +bed springs while the mattresses were merely large bags that had been +stuffed to capacity with hay, wheat straw, or leaves. The only other +furnishings in each of these cabins were several benches and a few +cooking utensils. Mr. Favors says: "We didn't have plank floors like +these on some of the other plantations; the plain bare ground served as +our floor." As he made this statement he reminded this worker that he +meant his mother and some of the other house servants lived in these +cabins. He himself always lived in the house with the "Widow Favors," +who had provided a comfortable bed along with a small chair for his use. +These slaves who worked in the fields lived in several cabins that were +somewhat nearer to their fields than the other two cabins mentioned +above. + +The remaining buildings on the Favors' plantation were the smokehouse +and the cook house where in addition to the cooking the younger children +were cared for by another old person. The woman who cared for these +children had to also help with the cooking. + +Whenever any of the slaves were sick the doctor was called if +conditions warranted it, otherwise a dose of castor oil was prescribed. +Mr. Favors stated that after freedom was declared the white people for +whom they worked gave them hog-feet oil and sometimes beef-oil both of +which had the same effect as castor oil. If any were too ill to work in +the field one of the others was required to remain at the cabin or at +some other convenient place so as to be able to attend to the wants of +these so indisposed. + +When Mr. Favors was asked if the servants on this plantation ever had +the chance to learn how to read or to write he answered: "They was all +afraid to even try because they would cut these off," and he held up his +right hand and pointed to his thumb and forefinger. At any rate the +"Widow," nieces taught him to read a few months before the slaves were +set free. + +On Sunday all were required to attend the white church in town. They sat +in the back of the church as the white minister preached and directed +the following text at them: "Don't steal your master's chickens or his +eggs and your backs won't be whipped." In the afternoon of this same day +when the colored minister was allowed to preach the slaves heard this +text: "Obey your masters and your mistresses and your backs won't be +whipped." All of the marriages ware performed by the colored preacher +who read a text from the Bible and then pronounced the couple being +married as man and wife. + +Although nobody was ever sold on the Favors plantation Mr. Favors has +witnessed the selling of others on the auction block. He says that the +block resembled a flight of steps. The young children and those women +who had babies too young to be separated from them were placed on the +bottom step, those in their early teens on the next, the young men and +women on the next, and the middle-aged and old ones on the last one. +Prices decreased as the auctioneer went from the bottom step to the top +one, that is, the younger a slave was the more money he brought if he +was sold. + +Sometimes there were slaves who were punished by the overseer because +they had broken some rule. Mr. Favors says that at such times a cowhide +whip was used and the number of lashes that the overseer gave depended +on the slave owner's instructions. He has seen others whipped and at +such times he began praying. The only punishment that he ever received +was as a little boy and then a switch was used instead of the whip. If +the "Patter-Roller" caught a slave out in the streets without a pass +from his master they proceeded to give the luckless fellow five lashes +with a whip called the cat-o-nine-tails. They gave six lashes if the +slave was caught out at night regardless of whether he had a pass or +not. + +As none of the slaves held by the "Widow" or her son ever attempted to +run away there was no punishment for this. However, he has heard that on +other plantations blood hounds were used to trail those who ran away and +if they were caught a severe beating was administered. + +Sometime after the civil war had begun the "Widow Favors" packed as many +of her belongings as possible and fled to LaGrange, Georgia. He and his +mother along with several other slaves (one of whom was an old man) were +taken along. He never heard any of the white people say anything about +the war or its possible results. At one time a battle was being fought a +few miles distant and they all saw the cannon balls fall on the +plantation. This was when the journey to LaGrange was decided upon. +Before leaving the "Widow" had the slaves to bury all the meat, flour, +and other food on the plantation so that the Yankee soldiers would not +get it. Mr. Favors was given about two thousand dollars in gold currency +to keep and protect for his owner. At various intervals he had to take +this money to the "Widow". so that she might count it. Another one of +the slaves was given the son's gold watch to keep on his person until +the Yanks left the vicinity. + +Before freedom was declared Mr. Favors says that he prayed all of the +time because he never wanted to be whipped with the cowhide, like others +he had seen. Further he says that it was a happy day for him when he was +told that he could do as he pleased because he realized then that he +could do some of the things that he had always wanted to do. + +When freedom was declared for the slaves the Favors family freed slaves +valued at one-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The live stock that +they sold represented a like sum. Mr. Favors and his mother remained +with the "Widow," who gave him his board in return for his services and +paid his mother twenty-five dollars per year for hers as cook. + +"Even after the war things were pretty tough for us" stated Mr. Favors. +"The plantation owners refused to pay more than thirty or forty cents to +a person for a days work in the fields. Some of them would not allow an +ex-slave to walk in the streets in front of their homes but made them +take to the out-of-the-way paths through the woods to reach their +various destinations. At other times white men cut the clothes from the +backs of the ex-slaves when they were well dressed. If they didn't beg +hard enough when thus accosted they might even be cut to death!" After +the first three years following the war conditions were somewhat better, +he continued. + +Mr. Favors says that his old age is due to the fact that he has always +taken good care of himself and because he has always refrained from +those habits that are known to tear a person's health down. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slave #28] + +THE STORY OF AUNT MARY FERGUSON, EX-SLAVE +1928 Oak Street +Columbus, Georgia +December 18, 1936 + + +"Aunt" Mary Ferguson, née Mary Little, née Mary Shorter, was born +somewhere in Maryland; the exact locality being designated by her simply +as "the eastern shore" of that state. She was born the chattel of a +planter named Shorter, so her first name, of course, was Mary Shorter. + +For many years she has resided with a daughter and a granddaughter, at +1928 Oak Avenue, Columbus, Georgia. + +"Aunt" Mary was about thirteen years old when, in 1860, she was sold and +brought South. The story of which, as told in her own words is as +follows: + +"In 1860 I wuz a happy chile. I had a good ma an a good paw; one older +bruther an one older suster, an a little bruther an a baby suster, too. +All my fambly wucked in de fields, 'ceptin me an de two little uns, +which I stayed at home to mind. (mind--care for). + +"It wuz durin' cotton chopping time dat year (1860), a day I'll never +fergit, when de speckulataws bought me. We come home from the fiel' +'bout haf atter 'leven dat day an cooked a good dinner, I hopin her. O, +I never has forgot dat last dinner wid my fokes! But, some-ow, I had +felt, all de mawnin, lak sumpin was gwineter hapin'. I could jes feel it +in my bones! An' sho nough, bout de middle of the even', up rid my young +Marster on his hoss, an' up driv two strange white mens in a buggy. Dey +hitch dere hosses an' cum in de house, which skeered me. Den one o' de +strangers said, 'git yo clothers, Mary; we has bought you frum Mr. +Shorter." I c'menced cryin' an' beggin' Mr. Shorter to not let 'em take +me away. But he say, 'yes, Mary, I has sole yer, an' yer must go wid +em.' + +"Den dese strange mens, whose names I ain't never knowed, tuk me an' put +me in de buggy an' driv off wid me, me hollerin' at de top o' my voice +an' callin' my Ma! Den dem speckulataws begin to sing loud--jes to drown +out my hollerin.' + +"Us passed de very fiel whar paw an' all my fokes wuz wuckin, an' I calt +out as loud as I could an', as long as I could see 'em, 'good-bye, Ma!' +'good-bye, Ma!' But she never heared me. Naw, nah, daz white mens wuz +singin' so loud Ma could'n hear me! An' she could'n see me, caze dey had +me pushed down out o' sight on de floe o' de buggy. + +"I ain't never seed nor heared tell o' my Ma an' Paw, an' bruthers, an' +susters from dat day to dis. + +"My new owners tuck me to Baltymore, whar dey had herded tergether two +two-hoss wagon loads o' Niggers. All o' us Niggers wuz den shipped on a +boat to Savannah, an' frum dar us wuz put on de cyars an' sont to Macon. + +"In Macon, us wuz sold out, and Doctor (W.R.) Little, of Talbotton, +bought me at oxion (auction) an' tuck me home wid 'im. Den I wuz known +as Mary Little, instid of Mary Shorter." + +In the continuation of her narrative, "Aunt" Mary said that the Littles +trained her to be a nurse. Before the war ended, she was inherited by +Mr. Gus (the late Hon. W.A.) Little. + +She remembers that all the "quality", young white men who went to the +war from Talbotton took Negro men-servants (slaves) along with them. +These were usually called body-servants, and it was a body-servant's +duty to cook, wash, and do general valet service for his master. In a +pinch, he was also supposed to raid a hen roost, or otherwise rustle +food for his "white fokes". + +According to "Aunt" Mary, the Little Negroes were very religious and +given to much loud praying and singing, which often so disturbed Dr. +Little that he gave orders for them to stop it, and also ordered that +all lights in the slave quarters be out at 9 o'clock each night. + +"So us tuck to slippin' off to a big gully in de pastur to sing and pray +whar de white fokes couldn' hear us. + +"My fust baby wuz bawned in 1862, during de secon' year o' de war. I has +had several husbants, my las' un, he died 'bout seventeen years ago. + +"I ain't never seed but one hant in my life, an' I didn' know it wuz a +hant 'til Aunt Peggy (an old slave woman) tole me so. Dis hant was in de +shape o' a duck, an' it followed me one day frum de big house kitchen +ter de hawg pen whar I wuz gwine ter slop de hawgs. When I got back, I +said, 'Aunt Peggy, dar's a strange duck done tuck up wid us!' And she +say, 'hush, chile, dat's a hant!' I been seein' 'im fur severrel years! +An' dat sholy skeert me!" + +When asked if she had ever been whipped when a slave, "Aunt" Mary +replied, "Yes, and thank God fur it, fur ole Miss taught me to be hones' +an' not to steal." She admitted that being whipped for stealing made her +an honest woman. + +"Aunt" Mary's oldest child is now a man of 74. Her hair is as white as +cotton and her eye sight is dim, but she is still mentally alert. She +says that colored people are naturally religious and that they learned +all their "devilment" from the Whites. She deplores the wickedness into +which the world has drifted, but thanks God that slavery ended when it +did. + +She has never had any particular love for the Yankees, and thinks that +they treated the Southern white folks "most scandalously" after the +war, yet feels that she owes them a debt of gratitude for freeing her +people. She admits that her awful hatred of slavery was born of her sad +experience as a girl when she was so unceremoniously separated from her +loved ones, as previously told. She is also of the firm opinion the +those "speculataws" who brought her from Maryland to Georgia in 1860 are +"brilin in hell fur dey sin" of seperating her from her people. + + Must Jesus bear the cross alone + and all the world go free? + No, there is a cross for every one; + there's a cross for me; + This consecrated cross I shall bear til + death shall set me free, + And then go home, my crown to wear; + there is a crown for me. + +Sung for interviewer by Mary Ferguson, ex-slave, December 18, 1936. + + + + +FOLKLORE INTERVIEW + +CARRIE NANCY FRYER +415 Mill Street +Augusta, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Maude Barragan +Federal Writers' Project +Residency #13 +Augusta, Georgia + + +An angular, red-skinned old Negro women was treading heavily down the +dusty sidewalk, leaning on a gnarled stick and talking to a little black +girl. A "sundown" hat shaded a bony face of typical Indian cast and her +red skin was stretched so tight over high cheek bones that few wrinkles +showed. + +"Auntie," she was asked, "have you time to tell me something about +slavery times?" "No'm, I sorry," she answered, "but I gwine to see a +sick lady now, and I gots to 'tend to somepin'." "May I come back to see +you at your house?" "Yas'm, any time you wants. I live in de lil' house +on de canal, it has a ellum tree in front. I riz it from sapling. I name +dat lil' tree 'Nancy' so when I gone, folks kin come by and bow and say +'Howdy, Nancy.'" + +She seated herself on a stone step and spread her many skirts of gray +chambray, hand-sewed with big white stitches. An old woman came by, her +shining black face puckered with anxiety, dressed in a starched white +uniform and a battered black hat, well brushed. + +"Morning, Nancy," she said. "You look mighty peak-ked dis morning." + +"Hunh!" grunted Nancy, "I oughter. I bin to see de mayor. I say 'Mr. +Mayor, here I is. I ain' got nuttin' to eat--it ain' right for a woman +my age to beg food. Now what yer gwine do 'bout it?' De mayor say: +'Auntie, you go right down to de welfare office at de Court House and +tell de lady I sont you to git somepin' to eat.' I done dat--dey promise +to send a lady, but I ain' see no lady yit." A heavy sigh rolled out. "I +didn' lef' skin of meat in my house or a piece of cornpone. But I didn' +take nuttin' to heart 'cause de Lord is my helper." + +The old woman sighed too. "Yeah, Nancy, das de way dey does. I ain' +gwine keep nasty house for nobody. But white people's funny. Dey think +if you got clean house and bleachin' sheets you mus' have somepin' to +eat inside." She clenched her fist, and her voice rose. "I tells you +right now--I gwine keep my house neat jus' like I bin taught, ef I never +gits no somepin' t'eat and ain' got cornpone in de oven." + +"A poor creeter come to my house today to beg for somepin' to eat," said +Nancy, "I ain' got nuttin' and I tell her so. She say she gwine to de +court-house too." + +"T'won't do no good," answered the other woman. "Come over here, Nancy. +I wants to talk to you." + +With a dignified excuse, Nancy creaked to her long length and moved +deliberately to the edge of the sidewalk. Whisperings followed, the +voices of the two old women rising in their excitement. + +"I ain' gwine into somepin' I don't know nuttin' about." + +"Nobody gwine 'swade me either." + +"My husband didn' put no composin' on me. If I don't git but one meal a +day, I ain' gwine dirty. I didn' have mouthful t'eat in my house." + +The interested eavesdropper decided that the welfare office had talked +social security to the women instead of direct relief, and they were +worried and suspicious about the matter. The old black woman was getting +angrier and angrier. + +"If any of 'em lookin' for me to have nasty old tore-up house, I ain' +gwine did it. You dunno when sickness come. When my boy got his leg +broke up, soon as dey could, dey put him off on me. Miz' Powell say: +'Steve, if you don't be good to your ma, de Lord gwine take your +blessing from you.' Dey paid Steve $137.00, Nancy, and he ain't gimmie a +nickle! He spent it on a woman in Edgefield. But my gal is diffunt. If +she ain' got but one mouthful she gwine give me half." + +Nancy nodded: "Dat like my gal too." + +The old woman took up her complaint again: "Um got daughter. When you +walk in her house, you think dey is a white person's house. When I was +workin and able, I put down as many bleachin' sheets as any white +'oman." + +Nancy's ponderous sigh rolled out. She was very "peaked" indeed on this +hot September morning. "If sister got a hoecake of bread, she gwine give +it to me. Ain' nobody else to help now--de Lord done come along and got +ev'y one of my mother's chillun but me." + +Seeing that present necessities were too important to permit an +interview, the visitor said: "Nancy, I'll see you tomorrow." A +preoccupied goodbye followed the interviewer, and the excited +conversation rose again. + +Three days later Nancy was found on the cluttered back porch of her +house by the canal. She was moving heavily about, picking up behind a +white boy and her bright-faced grandchild. Her face was still worried, +but her manner was warm and friendly. + +"I knowed you'd be comin'," she said, smiling, "but I looked for you +yesterday." She sat down and settled herself for conversation, her long +hands, still nice looking in spite of rheumatism, moving nervously over +her gray chambray lap. "Dis las' gone August I was 72 years old," she +began, "my sister say I older dan dat, but I know I born las' year of de +war. I was born on governor Pickens' place, de Grove place fur out, and +my mother was Lizbeth Cohen. Must have was my father a Indian, he +brighter dan me, but redder. I kin' member Miss Dooshka Pickens, de one +what went to Europe. Dey put all de lil' chillun in a row for her to +look at, and she sittin' up on her lil' pony lookin' at us chillun. She +was a pretty thing, yeah, I knowed her well. After de war my mother and +father rented land, paid de rent. We liveded well. I would go to school +three months when we first gether all de krep (crop). We had a colored +teacher in de Baptist Church where dey taught school. De name was Spring +Grove. + +"My father died and mother, she moved over in Ca-lina on General +Butler's place. She work in de fields. I wouldn' go to school but three +months in de year. When I growed up I work for Colonel Doctor McKie in +de house. He de fines' doctor I ever knowed. I got married to General +Butler's place where my mother was. I done had six chillun before I come +to Augusta. I nused to work for Dr. Sam Litchenstein, 17 years. He moved +to Louisville and dat thow me out anything to do. He tried to git me to +go down dere wid him but I fell in bad health. Den my daughter and dis +yere grandchild, I couldn' bear to leave dem. I cried when Dr. Sam lef', +he was good to me. I nused to carry dis grandchild to his house wid me +all de time." + +As Nancy's plantation recollections seemed vague, she was prompted to +talk about remedies and cures and on these her mind worked with speed +and decision. + +"I had high blood pressure so bad I couldn' walk right. My head nused to +spin, laying down all night, couldn' res. One night I doze off in my +sleep and a lady's spirit come to me. Her and my mother was two friends, +her name was Cyndie Gardenigh. She say: 'Honey, in de morning when you +git up, you git you some jimpson weed and put it wid cookin' salt and +bind it on your head.' I done det. I nused to have long hair to my +shoulder. Jimpson weed done cut my hair off, but it cured my blood +pressure. Mus' did kill 'em!" + +Asked how she treated her rheumatism, Nancy replied: + +"Git a pint glass wid a pint of kerosene in it, and a block of camphor. +Cut up de camphor and mix it round in de kerosene. Pat it on when de +pain come. When I got up dis morning, dis yere hand I couldn' move, and +now it feel a heap better. Lord, I done work so hard thoo' life, and all +done tuk from me!" + +A moment's silence brought shadows to Nancy's face. A twinge in her knee +reminded her of rheumatism cures. She rubbed the painful spot and +resumed: "You know what I am wearin' on my leg now? I made me two lil' +bags and put a Irish potato in it, and when it drawed up jus' as hard as +a log it done me good. But you got to _steal_ two Irish potatoes, and +put around both legs jus' below de knee. I just' be leanin' back stiff +all de time, couldn' walk. A old white man told me about dat. He see me +walkin' along crooked and he say: 'Auntie, what's de matter?' I told +him. He say: 'Now, I'll tell you what cure me. I was off in a furn +(foreign) country, and a man say; me walking cripple, and he told me to +steal two Irish potatoes and wear 'em, and when dey git hard you burn +'em up.' I specked I bin crooked up all kind of fashion if I ain't done +dat: I always bind a piece of brass around my leg. Das' good like gold." + +The eager grandchild was hanging over Nancy's shoulder, listening and +smiling. The white boy edged up, and Nancy laughed. "Hunh! I spects dese +chillun kin 'member tomorrow every word I tells you today. Dey knows +everything." Her bony arm encircled the Negro child. "Jooroosalom +oak--we got some and give it to dis lil' thing for worms. She went off +in a trance and never come out until 2 o'clock nex' day. I think we got +de wrong thing and give her root instead of seed. I never fool wid it no +more it skeered me so. Thought we had killed de child." + +Nancy was asked what her methods were in raising children. + +"Bin so long I mos' forgot," she said. "All my babies growed straight +'cause I swep' 'em 9 times for 9 mornings from de knees down on out, +dataway, and bathed 'em wid pot liquor and dish water. I ain' nused no +root cep' sassafax roots to make tea outten das good to purge your blood +in de spring of de year. Drinkin' water from a horse trough, I hearn' +tell das good for whoopin' cough and all lika-dat." + +"Dat daughter of mine, she had a wen on her neck big as a apple. An old +lady come to me. 'I come to git my child today,' she say, 'a lady died +dis morning and I wants to take her dere.' Well I didn' want my child +gwine to de death house but she take her. De corpse ain' cold yit. She +put her 9 times across, nine times straight, and dat child was cured. +Yas'm, she got jus' as pretty face now! Ain' no use talkin', she +straighten my child, her and de Lord! De wen went and jus' pass away. +You got to do it before de corpse git cold, jus' after de breaf' pass +out of de body." + +"I done mark three of my chillun. Yas'm, I ruin't three of 'em. I was +een de country and I was gwine thoo' de orchard, and de cherries was +scarce. I looked up in de man's cherry tree, and one tree was full of +fruit. Dey jus' as pretty! I say: 'Jim, please sir, give me one of dem +cherries.' Jim say: 'No!' I stood dere wishin' for dem cherries, +scratchin' my wrist, and my child born wid cherry on his wrist, right +where I scratch! I took de baby and showed him to old man Jim, and he +cry and pray over dat cherry and told me to forgive him and he never +would do it no more. But he done it den." + +"I live in de country. I come to town where a white man was down here on +McKinne Street makin' dat soft white candy. I stood up and wished for +it. It did look so pretty and I wanted some so bad and I didn' have no +money. I was cryin', scratchin' my forehead over my right eye near de +hair. He didn' give me none. When my gal born, she had white mark right +on her forehead in de place I scratched." + +"My sister-in-law made me ruin't my other child. Twas an old man coming +along. He was ruptured. He had on a white ap'on, and she bus' out +laughin' and say: 'Look at dat!' I jus' young gal, ain' be thinkin' and +I bus' out laughin' too, he did look funny. I ruin't my boy. He was in +de same fix and when I look at him I feel so bad, and think 'dat didn' +have to be.'" + +"Dis kin happen: anybody see another person wid pretty hair and rub dey +hair down, dat child gwine have mustee hair too. A old black 'oman had a +baby. She seen somebody wid dat mustee hair (das what we calls black +folks wid smooth straight hair) and when her child born, everybody say: +'Look what dis baby got! Long black hair!" + +Asked about persons born with cauls, Nancy grunted: + +"Hunh! My mother said it cover my head, shoulders and all! I kin see +ghosts. Was a man lived right dere in dat house yonder. His name was +Will Beasley but we call 'im Bee. De fus' time he got sick he had a +stroke, den he git up. De doctor told him to be careful but he would go +out. One night about 8 o'clock I see him go. I stay sittin' here on dis +porch, and about 10 o'clock here come Bee out of his house, in his night +clothes out de open door and cross de yard. He go behind dat house. I +call out: 'Bee, I thought you was gone off? He didn' notice me no more +dan I never spoke. I got worried about him bein' sick and when he come +out from behind de house I say: 'Bee, you bes' be gwine indorrs, dress +lika-dat. You git sick again.' He walk straight back in de house. Pretty +soon here come Bee down de street, all dressed up in his brown pants and +white shirt! I grab de bannister just' a-tremblin' and de hair rizzed up +on my head. I knowed den he ain' got long for here. He come on by and +say: 'Nancy, how you feelin'?' I say: 'Bee, how long you bin out?' He +say: 'Why, I bin gone since 8 o'clock.' I didn't say nuttin' but I +knowed I seed his spirit and it was his death. He tooken sick two or +three weeks later jus' before Labor Day, and died all paralyzed up. A +woman come to my house and say: 'Nancy, give dis to Bee.' I didn' want +to see him if he dyin' but I went on over. I call: 'Bee! Bee!' He say: +'Who dat, you, Miz' Nancy?' I say: 'Here's a bottle of medicine Miss +Minnie sont you.' He say: 'I can't move my right side.' He was: laying +wid his leg and arm in the air: stiff as a board. He say: 'Miz Nancy?' I +say: 'Hunh?' He say: 'Go down de canal bank and tell my Minnie please +come and rub me 'cause she know how. I want my Minnie.' Das de 'oman he +bin livin' wid since his wife lef' him. I wait till de King Mill boys +come along and call 'em. 'Tell Miz' Minnie dat Will Bee want her to come +and rub him.' But she never did come till 12 o'clock and he was dead +before she come. + +"I did had a niece what died. She was about 20 years old and a good +boy. Twas a year in August. I went on so over him, his mother say: +'Don't you know his last words was, 'I'm on my way to heaven and I ain' +gwine turn back?' Don't worry, Nancy.' But I did worry. Dat night he +come to me in spirit. He stand dere and look at me and smile, and he +say: 'Aunt, I am all right. Aunt, I am all right,' over and over. Den it +went off. I was jus' as satisfy den, and I never worry no more." + +Nancy said she saw ghosts all through her childhood. She did not +characterize them as "hants" but spoke of them throughout as ghosts. + +"I seed 'em when I was chillun," she said, "me and my sister one night +was comin' from spring. Twas in de winter time and jus' as cold, twas +dark and I had de light. Sister say: 'Babe, don't let dat light go out.' +Jus' den I seed it--a horse's head all spread out in fore! A big ball of +fire! I yelled: 'Oh, sister, look at de horse wid a head of fire!' She +knock me out for dead! She grab dat light and run home and lef' me in de +wood. When I come to I run to my mother crying and she say: 'Now Nancy, +you know you kin see 'em but you ought not to tell de other chillun and +skeer 'em. You mus' keep it to yourself.' Ever since den, I won't tell +nobody what I kin see. Yas'm, I wake up in de nighttime and see 'em +standin' all 'bout dis house. I ain' skeered--when you born wid de veil +it jus' be natchel to see 'em. Why, I sees 'em on de canal bank when de +fog sprangles through de trees and de shape forms on de ground'. + +"I hears de death alarm too. One kind of call comes from out de sky, a +big howlin' noise, loud like singin'--a regular tune. De other kind goes +'hummmmmmm' like somebody moanin'. I was settin' down and de bull bat +come in de house. Me and de chillun done all we could to git him out de +house. A woman nex' door was name Rachel. I say: 'Rachel! Dere's a bull +bat in here and we can't get him out.' You know what she done? She turn +her pocket inside out and dat bat went out de door jus' like it come in! +Dat a simple thing to do, ain' it? But it done de work. Dat was on +Thursday night. Saturday morning I got de news that my babiest sister +was dead. One of my boys was wid her. I was settin' down wid my head +bowed, prayin', and a white man dressed in a white robe come in de house +and stood before me and say: 'Oh, yeah! I gwine take your sister! Den +what your child gwine do?' I sot down and studied and I said: 'Lord, +I'll do de bes' I kin.' And Miss you know I had to take dat child back! + +"Before I los' my husband ev'y time he go out to work I couldn' hear +nuttin' but knockin'--ever he step out de house somebody come to de door +and knock four slow knocks. If he go off in de night it wouldn' stop +till he git back. I wouldn' tell him 'cause I knowed twould worry him. I +say: 'Sam, les' us move.' He say: 'Honey, we ain' long bin move here.' +But us 'cided to move anyway. Twas a big show in town. I let all de +chillun go to de show. Time I got my things fix up to move and went to +cook my dinner come de knockin' four times. I knowed he'd be took sick +pretty soon. He didn' 'low me to work. Dat was a good husband! I had six +chillun. He say: 'Honey, no! I workin' makin' enough to support you. All +I want you to do is keep dis house clean and me and my chillun, and I +will pay you de five dollars every week de white lady would pay you.' +And he done dat, gimme five dollars every week for myself. + +"A white lady was crazy about my work, jus' her and her husband. I got +up soon one morning, time he left, and runned up dere and washed her +clothes and ironed dem. Den I started back home 'bout noon. I heared +somethin' walkin' behind me. 'Bip! Bip!' I look round and didn' see +nuttin'. I kep' a lookin' back and den I heard a voice moanin' and kind +of singing: 'Oh, yeah! I bin here and done took your mother. I bin here +and done took your sister! Now I'm a-comin' to take your husband!' +Talking to me like-dat in de broad open daytime! I say: 'No, you won't! +No, you won't!' I commence a runnin', cryin' inside. When I got home I +thow myself on de bed shiverin' and shakin'. Twas no dinner done dat +day. When he come home dat night he tooken sick and never got up again. +He knock on de head of de bed jus' like de knocks come at de door, when +he want me to go to him! He never lived but two weeks and went on to de +judgment! + +"One night dey was givin' my husband toddy. He drink some and wanted me +to finish it. I told him no, I ain' drinkin' after no sick folks 'cause +it mean death. His first cousin tooked it and drank it. He was a fine +looking man in two months he was gone too! + +"My husband come to me in spirit any time I git worried up. When I git +in trouble he'll come and stand over me wid his arms folded behind him. +He told me one night: 'You must pray, Nancy. You must pray! Um gwine +help, and de Lord gwine help you too.' Missy, how you reckon he gwine +help me if he dead? I ask de Lord and beg him to take me too, beg him to +please carry me home." + +Nancy was becoming more and more doleful, and to take her mind from the +thought of her dead husband, she was asked about remedies. + +"When us had de mumps mother git sardines and take de oil out and rub us +jaws and dat cure us good. Sassafax for measles, to run de numor (humor) +out de blood. When de fever gone, she would grease us wid grease from +skin of meat. Git fat light'ood, make fire, cut de skin off bacon meat, +broil it over flame and let grease drip into a pan, den rub us all over +for de rash. Couldn' wash us you see, 'cep' under de arms a little +'cause water musn' tech us. For a sty in de eye we nused to say: 'Sty! +Lie!' You see dat call 'em a lie and dey go on off. 'Um got a sty! Sty! +Lie!' When witches ride me I took a sifter. An old lady told me de nex' +time dey come, 'you put de sifter in de bed.' I done dat and dey ain' +bother me since. A basin of water under de bed is good too." + +Nancy had an experience with a gold digger. He came to board, and had an +inconvenient habit of staying up all night. "I nused to have a old man +stay here wid me. One night I couldn' lay down it was so cold, so I sit +up and wrop in a blanket. He say: 'Nancy, see yonder! In de corner of +your yard is a pot of gold.' Now I knows if you go and git de money what +de dead done bury, you don't see no peace, so I told him he couldn' dig +in my yard. I made him move. A 'oman say he went to stay wid her and +when she got up one morning he had dug a hole in de yard big as a well, +so she runned him off too. He had all de implee-ments but he wouldn' let +nobody see him digging in de night. Well Miss, I knowed dat gold was +truly in my yard, because I got up one night and looked out dere, and a +white 'oman was standin' right where de old man say twas gold pot. I +look at de white lady, a high white lady, and she kep' her eye down in +dat corner guardin' de gold what she bury! Den I seed her go on off +thoo' de gate and I knowed twas de spirit of de woman what bury it." + +Nancy did not remember any stories about witches, booger-men or animals, +but she did give a version of the story of the mistress who was buried +alive. + +"Dat really did happen in Edgefield," she said. "Marster los' his +daughter and den his butler went to de cemetery and dugged her up. He +was gittin' de jewelries off of her finger when she moan; 'Oh, you +hurtin' my finger!' He runned back to de house and she got up out of de +coffin and went to de Big House. She knock on de door and her father +went, and he fainted. Her mother went, and she fainted. Everyone went to +de door fainted. But her father come to himself and he was so happy to +have his daughter back, he said God let de man dig her up and git her +out alive. He made dat nigger rich. Gin him a whole plantation and two +big carriage horses and a great big carriage and I dunno how much gold +and silver. Told him he didn' want him to do anything but sit down and +live off of what he gin him de res' of his life." + +Nancy asked her visitor to write a postcard to her "dear doctor" in +Louisville and tell him she was having a hard time. She insisted that +the card be signed: "Your Carrie Fryer what used to work for you, with +love." + +"Come back and see me some more," she begged wistfully, "I bin callin' +you in my mind all week." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +ANDERSON FURR, Age 87 +298 W. Broad Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (white)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +Anderson Furr's address led the interviewer to a physician's residence +on Broad Street, where she was directed to a small frame house on the +rear of the lot. The little three-room cottage has a separate entrance +from Pulaski Street. Three stone steps lead from the street to the +narrow yard which is enclosed by a low rock coping. Anderson rents only +one room and the remainder of the house is occupied by Annie Sims and +her husband, George, who works at the Holman Hotel. + +Reclining comfortably in a cane-backed chair, with his walking stick +conveniently placed across his knees, Anderson was enjoying the shade of +a wide spread oak tree in the tidy yard. His costume consisted of a +battered old black felt hat, a dingy white shirt, dark gray pants, and +scuffed black shoes. Asked if he remembered the days when the North was +fighting the South for his freedom, Anderson replied: "'Member fightin'! +Why, Lady! Dey ain't never stopped fightin' yit. Folks has been +a-fightin' ever since I come in dis world, and dey will be fightin' long +atter I is gone. + +"I dis'members what was de name of de town whar I was borned, but it was +in Hall County. Lydia and Earl Strickland was my Ma and Pa. All of deir +chillun is daid now 'cept me and Bob. De others was: Abe, Bill, Jim, +and Sarah. Dere ain't much to tell 'bout what us done dem days, 'cept +play and eat. Dem what was big 'nough had to wuk. + +"Lordy, Miss! It's lak dis: I is a old Nigger, and I done been here for +many years, but dese last few years I sho' has been a sick man, and now +I can't git things straight in my mind lak dey was den. I knows us lived +in log houses what had great big chimblies made out of sticks and mud. +Why, dem fireplaces was 'bout eight feet wide, and you could put a whole +stick of cord wood on de fire. Us slept on high-up old timey beds what +had big posties and instead of springs, dey had stout cords wove 'cross +to hold de mattress. De last time I slept on one of dem sort of beds was +when I was a little boy, sleepin' wid my Ma. Pa and Ma was both field +hands. Ma's mammy was de onliest one of my grandmas I ever seed. Her +name was Ca'line and she lived wid Grandpa Abe on another plantation. +Ma's sister, my aunt Ca'line was cook up at our Old Marster's big house. + +"Money? Yessum! Dey gimme a little money now and den for totin' water to +de field, sweepin' de yards, and a million other things dey used to make +me do. De most dey ever gimme was 50 cents. I never spent none of it, +but jus' turned it over to my Ma. Chillun warn't 'lowed to spend money +den lak dey does now, 'cause dey had evvything dey needed anyhow. Old +Marster, he give us plenty somepin t'eat, such as it was. Dere was lots +of cornbread, a little meat now and den, collards, whip-poor-will peas +and dem unknown peas what was most big as a dime, and black 'lasses--dat +was lallyho. + +"Us cotch lots of 'possums, but mighty few of 'em us Niggers ever got a +chance to eat, or rabbits neither. Dey made Niggers go out and hunt 'em +and de white folks et 'em. Our mouths would water for some of dat +'possum but it warn't often dey let us have none. I don't know nothin' +'bout no fishin' bein' done dem days. Yessum, slaves had deir own +gyardens, and dey better wuk 'em good if dey wanted any gyarden sass to +eat. Cookin' was done in dem big open fireplaces, mostly in pots and +thick iron skillets what had lids on 'em. + +"Boys wore long blue striped shirts in summer and nothin' else a t'all. +Dem shirts was made jus' lak mother hubbards. Us wore de same thing in +winter only dem shirts was made new for winter. By summer dey had done +wore thin. When de weather got too cold, Marster give us old coats, what +grown folks had done most wore out, and us warn't none too warm den wid +de wind a-sailin' under our little old shirt tails. Our shoes was rough +old brogans what was hard as rocks, and us had to put rags inside 'em to +keep 'em from rubbin' de skin off our foots. Us didn't know what socks +and stockin's was dem. + +"Marse Earl Strickland owned us. Miss Sarah was his old 'oman and dey +was sho' mighty good to deir slaves. White folks was heap better folks +den dan dey is now anyhow. Now-a-days dey will knock you up right now, +and won't be long 'bout it. I can't git up no ricollections 'bout 'em +havin' no chillun a t'all. Seems lak I know for sho' dey didn't have +none. Dey never had no fine house neither; jus' a plain common house wid +a chimbly at both ends. + +"Oh, Lord! Marster never had no overseer; no car'iage driver neither; +didn't even have no car'iage yit. He did have a surrey what he hitched +mules to and driv for hisself. Warn't no hoss on dat plantation, nothin' +'cept mules. + +"How big was dat plantation? Good Granny! it was so big I never did git +all de way over it, and dere must a been 15 or 20 slaves. Old Marster +got us up 'bout sunrise and fetched us in at sundown. He was all time +knockin' on his Niggers 'bout somepin. He 'lowed dey didn't do dis, or +dat, or somepin else right--he allus had to have some 'scuse to knock +'em 'round." + +A little Negro boy, possibly five years old, came up to Anderson with a +peach in his hand and said: "Look, Uncle Anderson, C.T. done gimme dis +peach what he stole off dat dar wagon." The old man reached out his +hand. "Boy, you gimme dat peach," he commanded. "You knows I lak +peaches. Give it to me, I say. I do declar', nigger chillun jus' got to +steal anyhow. Run git yourself 'nother peach off dat wagon, but don't +you let dat man see you git it. Put dat peach under your shirt 'til you +gits in dis yard, and if you leave dis yard 'gain I'll buss your haid +wide open. Does you hear me, Boy? + +"What was dat you was a-axin' 'bout jails, Miss? Yessum, us had 'em. +Niggers would git too rowdy-lak, drinkin' liquor and fightin', and dat +was when de white folks slapped 'em in de gyardhouse, widout a bite to +eat. Gyardhouses is called jails dese days. I'se lak my Ma. I'se a +fighter. Ma would jump on anybody what looked at her twice. De onliest +time I ever got in de gyardhouse was a long time atter de end of de big +War. A man owed me some money, and when I axed him for it, he got mad +and knocked me down. I got right up and knocked him out, and right den +and dar I was sont to de gyardhouse. + +"Good Lord, Miss! Slave folks warn't 'lowed no time for to larn readin' +and writin'. Deir time was all tuk up in de field at wuk. Slaves went to +de white folks' church, but one thing sho' dey couldn't read de Bible +for deirselfs and couldn't write none. Jus' to tell de truth, I didn't +take in what dey sung at church, but I ain't forgot dem baptizin's. I'se +been to so many of 'em. Evvybody went in dem days. Dere warn't no place +in de church houses for to be ducked dem days, so de white folks had a +pool dug out by de branch for de baptizin's, and white folks and slaves +was ducked in de same pool of water. White folks went in fust and den de +Niggers. Evvybody what come dar sung a song 'bout 'My Sins has all been +Washed Away, and I is White as Snow.' + +"Slave fun'rels was mournful sights, for sho'. Dem home-made coffins was +made out of pine planks, and dey warn't painted or lined or nothin'. And +slave coffins warn't no diffunt from de ones de white folks used. Our +Marster sot aside a spot in his own buryin' grounds for de slaves' +graveyard. When dey was a-buryin' folks dey sung a song what went +somepin lak dis: 'Oh, Lord! Us takes 'em to de Graveyard, Never to fetch +'em Back.' + +"If slaves did run off to de North, I never heared nothin' 'bout it. +Oh, Lord! I jus' can't talk 'bout dem patterollers, for it looked lak +all de white folks tried to jine up wid 'em. How dey did beat up us pore +Niggers! Us had to git a pass for dis and a pass for dat, and dere jus' +warn't nothin' us could do widout dem patterollers a-beatin' us up. Dey +beat you wid a cowhide lash what cut a gash in your back evvy time it +struck you. Yessum, white folks and Niggers was all time quar'ellin' and +fightin'. + +"When slaves got in from de fields dey et deir somepin t'eat and went to +bed. Dey didn't have to wuk on Saddays atter dinnertime. When our old +Marster turned us loose, he turned us loose; and when he wuked us, us +sho' was wuked. De young folks had deir big times on Sadday nights. Dey +danced and frolicked 'round sort of lak dey does now. Evvybody went to +de meetin' house on Sunday, and dere's whar Niggers had a good time +a-courtin'. + +"Christmas was de time when old Marster let us do pretty much as us +pleased. Us had all kinds of good things t'eat, and atter us drunk a lot +of liquor it warn't long 'fore dere was a Nigger fight goin' on. Yessum, +us had cornshuckin's, cotton pickin's, quiltin's, log rollin's, and all +sich as dat. Wid plenty t'eat and good liquor to drink on hand, Niggers +would shuck corn or pick cotton all night. It was de big eats and lots +of liquor dat made slaves lak dem things. + +"Little slave boys played wid sun-baked marbles, made of mud, and old +rag balls, what was sho' a heap diffunt from what chilluns thinks dey +has got to have dese days 'fore dey kin have a good time. + +"Marster had mighty good keer tuk of his slaves when dey got sick. Dere +warn't many doctors dem days. Dey jus' used home-made medicines, mostly +teas made out of yarbs (herbs). I jus' can't git up no ricollection of +what yarbs dey did put in dem teas. I does 'member dat chillun had to +live wid bags of assfiddy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off +ailments. Ma give me and Bob, each one, a block of dat assfiddy for good +luck. I throwed my block 'way a few years ago, and I ain't had nothin' +but bad luck ever since. Dat's why I can't git up de things you wants to +know 'bout. My mind jus' don't wuk right no more. + +"Dem yankees was on de go all de time. One of 'em come to old Marster's +house and axed one of my uncles to go off wid him. Uncle was old and +skeered and he thought de yankees might kill him or somepin lak dat. +When de War was done over, old Marster told us 'bout how things was. He +said us was free and would have to do de best us could for ourselfs. Dem +was happy days for Niggers. Dey sho' didn't take no more foolishment off +of white folks atter dat, and dey don't pay 'em no mind now. Niggers got +so bad atter dey got deir freedom dat de Ku Kluxers come 'round and made +'em be'have deirselfs. One of dem Kluxers come to our house and set down +and talked to us 'bout how us ought to act, and how us was goin' to have +to do, if us 'spected to live and do well. Us allus thought it was our +own old Marster, all dressed up in dem white robes wid his face kivvered +up, and a-talkin' in a strange, put-on lak, voice. None of Marster's +Niggers never left him for 'bout two or three years. Dere warn't no way +for Niggers to buy no land 'til atter dey could make and save up some +money. Marster jus' paid up his Niggers once a year, at de end of crap +time. It warn't long atter de War was over 'fore dere was some few +schools for Niggers scattered 'round 'bout. + +"When did I git married? Lordy, Miss! Such things de giverment do want +to know 'bout pore old Niggers! It warn't 'til ten years atter us was +freed, dat me and Martha Freeman got married up together. Dat was one +sho' 'nough fine weddin' what Miss Sallie Morton and our other white +friends give us. Dey give us evvything us had at dat big old feast. Dere +was three tables full, one for de white folks, and two for de Niggers, +and dem tables was jus' loaded down wid good things. Willie and Ida was +de onliest chillun me and Martha had, and dey never lived to git grown. +Martha died out and den I married up wid Mamie White. Us didn't have no +chillun and Mamie's daid now. Dey's all daid 'cept me. + +"I thinks it was a good thing Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis did set us free, +and I sho hopes de giverment won't never fetch slavery back no more. + +"I never will forgit de day I jined up wid Morton's Baptist Church. I +had done helped my Pa build it from a brush arbor to a sho' 'nough +church house. De reason I jined up was 'cause de Marster had done +changed me from nature to Grace. I thinks evvybody ought to jine up in +de church 'cause it's de Lord's will. + +"Miss, I done told you all I knows and I'se a sick man, so go 'long wid +you and let me take my rest." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of +Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1, by Work Projects Administration + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: GEORGIA *** + +***** This file should be named 13602-8.txt or 13602-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/6/0/13602/ + +Produced by Jeannie Howse, Andrea Ball and PG Distributed +Proofreaders. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/13602-8.zip b/old/13602-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4ea32e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13602-8.zip diff --git a/old/13602-h.zip b/old/13602-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..358e634 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13602-h.zip diff --git a/old/13602-h/13602-h.htm b/old/13602-h/13602-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5029f55 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13602-h/13602-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10141 @@ +<!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: +Georgia Narratives, Volume IV, Part 1</title> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery +in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1, 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: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1 + +Author: Work Projects Administration + +Release Date: October 5, 2004 [EBook #13602] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: GEORGIA *** + + + + +Produced by Jeannie Howse, 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 IV</h2> + +<h2>GEORGIA NARRATIVES</h2> + +<h2>PART 1</h2> + + + +<h3>Prepared by<br> +the Federal Writers' Project of<br> +the Works Progress Administration<br> +for the State of Georgia</h3> +<br><br><br> + + +<h2>INFORMANTS</h2> + +<a href='#AdamsRachel'>Adams, Rachel</a><br> +<a href='#AllenWashington'>Allen, Uncle Wash</a> [TR: originally listed as Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)]<br> +<a href='#AllenWB'>Allen, Rev. W.B.</a> [TR: different informant]<br> +<a href='#AtkinsonJack'>Atkinson, Jack</a><br> +<a href='#AustinHannah'>Austin, Hannah</a><br> +<a href='#AveryCelestia'>Avery, Celestia</a><br> +<a href='#AveryCelestia2'>Avery, Celestia</a> + [TR: second interview]<br> + [TR: also appended is interview with <a href='#HeardEmmaline'>Emmaline Heard</a> +that is repeated in Part 2 of Georgia Narratives]<br> +<br> +<a href='#BakerGeorgia'>Baker, Georgia</a><br> +<a href='#BattleAlice'>Battle, Alice</a><br> +<a href='#BattleJasper'>Battle, Jasper</a><br> +<a href='#BinnsArrie'>Binns, Arrie</a><br> +<a href='#BlandHenry'>Bland, Henry</a><br> +<a href='#BodyRias'>Body, Rias</a><br> +<a href='#BoltonJames'>Bolton, James</a><br> +<a href='#BostwickAlec'>Bostwick, Alec</a><br> +<a href='#BoudryNancy'>Boudry, Nancy</a><br> +<a href='#BradleyAlice'>Bradley, Alice</a>, and <a href='#ColquittKizzie'>Colquitt, Kizzie</a> + [TR: interviews filed together though not connected]<br> +<a href='#BriscoeDella'>Briscoe, Della</a><br> +<a href='#BrooksGeorge'>Brooks, George</a><br> +<a href='#BrownEaster'>Brown, Easter</a><br> +<a href='#BrownJulia'>Brown, Julia</a> (Aunt Sally)<br> +<a href='#BunchJulia'>Bunch, Julia</a><br> +<a href='#ButlerMarshal'>Butler, Marshal</a><br> +<a href='#ByrdSarah'>Byrd, Sarah</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#CallawayMariah'>Calloway, Mariah</a><br> +<a href='#CastleSusan'>Castle, Susan</a><br> +<a href='#ClaybournEllen'>Claibourn, Ellen</a><br> +<a href='#ClayBerry'>Clay, Berry</a><br> +<a href='#CodyPierce'>Cody, Pierce</a><br> +<a href='#CoferWillis'>Cofer, Willis</a><br> +<a href='#ColbertMary'>Colbert, Mary</a><br> +<a href='#ColeJohn'>Cole, John</a><br> +<a href='#ColeJulia'>Cole, Julia</a><br> +<a href='#ColquittMartha'>Colquitt, Martha</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#DavisMinnie'>Davis, Minnie</a><br> +<a href='#DavisMose'>Davis, Mose</a><br> +<a href='#DerricoteIke'>Derricotte, Ike</a><br> +<a href='#DillardBenny'>Dillard, Benny</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#EasonGeorge'>Eason, George</a><br> +<a href='#ElderCallie'>Elder, Callie</a><br> +<a href='#EveretteMartha'>Everette, Martha</a><br> +<br> +<a href='#FavorLewis'>Favor, Lewis</a> [TR: also referred to as Favors]<br> +<a href='#FergusonMary'>Ferguson, Mary</a><br> +<a href='#FryerCarrieNancy'>Fryer, Carrie Nancy</a><br> +<a href='#FurrAnderson'>Furr, Anderson</a><br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<a href="#img_MB">Marshal Butler</a> [TR: not listed in original index]<br> +<a href="#img_JC">John Cole</a><br> +<br> + +<p>[TR: The interview headers presented here contain all information +included in the original, but may have been rearranged for readability. +Also, some ages and addresses have been drawn from blocks of information +on subsequent interview pages. Names in brackets were drawn from text of +interviews.]</p> + +<p>[TR: Some interviews were date-stamped; these dates have been added +to interview headers in brackets. Where part of date could not be +determined -- has been substituted. These dates do not appear to +represent actual interview dates, rather dates completed interviews +were received or perhaps transcription dates.]</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AdamsRachel"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +RACHEL ADAMS, Age 78<br> +300 Odd Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>Rachel Adams' two-room, frame house is perched on the side of a steep +hill where peach trees and bamboo form dense shade. Stalks of corn at +the rear of the dwelling reach almost to the roof ridge and a portion of +the front yard is enclosed for a chicken yard. Stepping gingerly around +the amazing number of nondescript articles scattered about the small +veranda, the visitor rapped several times on the front door, but +received no response. A neighbor said the old woman might be found at +her son's store, but she was finally located at the home of a daughter.</p> + +<p>Rachel came to the front door with a sandwich of hoecake and cheese in +one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Dis here's Rachel Adams," +she declared. "Have a seat on de porch." Rachel is tall, thin, very +black, and wears glasses. Her faded pink outing wrapper was partly +covered by an apron made of a heavy meal sack. Tennis shoes, worn +without hose, and a man's black hat completed her outfit.</p> + +<p>Rachel began her story by saying: "Miss, dats been sich a long time back +dat I has most forgot how things went. Anyhow I was borned in Putman +County 'bout two miles from Eatonton, Georgia. My Ma and Pa was 'Melia +and Iaaac Little and, far as I knows, dey was borned and bred in dat +same county. Pa, he was sold away from Ma when I was still a baby. Ma's +job was to weave all de cloth for de white folks. I have wore many a +dress made out of de homespun what she wove. Dere was 17 of us chillun, +and I can't 'member de names of but two of 'em now—dey was John and +Sarah. John was Ma's onliest son; all de rest of de other 16 of us was +gals.</p> + +<p>"Us lived in mud-daubed log cabins what had old stack chimblies made out +of sticks and mud. Our old home-made beds didn't have no slats or metal +springs neither. Dey used stout cords for springs. De cloth what dey +made the ticks of dem old hay mattresses and pillows out of was so +coarse dat it scratched us little chillun most to death, it seemed lak +to us dem days. I kin still feel dem old hay mattresses under me now. +Evvy time I moved at night it sounded lak de wind blowin' through dem +peach trees and bamboos 'round de front of de house whar I lives now.</p> + +<p>"Grandma Anna was 115 years old when she died. She had done wore herself +out in slavery time. Grandpa, he was sold off somewhar. Both of 'em was +field hands.</p> + +<p>"Potlicker and cornbread was fed to us chillun, out of big old wooden +bowls. Two or three chillun et out of de same bowl. Grown folks had +meat, greens, syrup, cornbread, 'taters and de lak. 'Possums! I should +say so. Dey cotch plenty of 'em and atter dey was kilt ma would scald +'em and rub 'em in hot ashes and dat clean't 'em jus' as pretty and +white. OO-o-o but dey was good. Lord, Yessum! Dey used to go fishin' and +rabbit huntin' too. Us jus' fotched in game galore den, for it was de +style dem days. Dere warn't no market meat in slavery days. Seemed lak +to me in dem days dat ash-roasted 'taters and groundpeas was de best +somepin t'eat what anybody could want. 'Course dey had a gyarden, and it +had somepin of jus' about evvything what us knowed anything 'bout in de +way of gyarden sass growin' in it. All de cookin' was done in dem big +old open fireplaces what was fixed up special for de pots and ovens. +Ashcake was most as good as 'taters cooked in de ashes, but not quite.</p> + +<p>"Summertime, us jus' wore homespun dresses made lak de slips dey use for +underwear now. De coats what us wore over our wool dresses in winter was +knowed as 'sacques' den, 'cause dey was so loose fittin'. Dey was heavy +and had wool in 'em too. Marse Lewis, he had a plenty of sheep, 'cause +dey was bound to have lots of warm winter clothes, and den too, dey +lakked mutton to eat. Oh! dem old brogan shoes was coarse and rough. +When Marse Lewis had a cow kilt dey put de hide in de tannin' vat. When +de hides was ready, Uncle Ben made up de shoes, and sometimes dey let +Uncle Jasper holp him if dere was many to be made all at one time. Us +wore de same sort of clothes on Sunday as evvyday, only dey had to be +clean and fresh when dey was put on Sunday mornin'.</p> + +<p>"Marse Lewis Little and his wife, Miss Sallie, owned us, and Old Miss, +she died long 'fore de surrender. Marse Lewis, he was right good to all +his slaves; but dat overseer, he would beat us down in a minute if us +didn't do to suit him. When dey give slaves tasks to do and dey warn't +done in a certain time, dat old overseer would whup 'em 'bout dat. +Marster never had to take none of his Niggers to court or put 'em in +jails neither; him and de overseer sot 'em right. Long as Miss Sallie +lived de carriage driver driv her and Marse Lewis around lots, but atter +she died dere warn't so much use of de carriage. He jus' driv for Marse +Lewis and piddled 'round de yard den.</p> + +<p>"Some slaves larnt to read and write. If dey went to meetin' dey had to +go wid deir white folks 'cause dey didn't have no sep'rate churches for +de Niggers 'til atter de war. On our Marster's place, slaves didn't go +off to meetin' a t'all. Dey jus' went 'round to one another's houses and +sung songs. Some of 'em read de Bible by heart. Once I heared a man +preach what didn't know how to read one word in de Bible, and he didn't +even have no Bible yit.</p> + +<p>"De fust baptizin' I ever seed was atter I was nigh 'bout grown. If a +slave from our place ever jined up wid a church 'fore de war was over, I +never heared tell nothin' 'bout it.</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Miss! I didn't know nothin' 'bout what a funeral was dem days. +If a Nigger died dis mornin', dey sho' didn't waste no time a-puttin' +him right on down in de ground dat same day. Dem coffins never had no +shape to 'em; dey was jus' squar-aidged pine boxes. Now warn't dat +turrible?</p> + +<p>"Slaves never went nowhar widout dem patterollers beatin' 'em up if dey +didn't have no pass.</p> + +<p>"Dere was hunderds of acres in dat dere plantation. Marse Lewis had a +heap of slaves. De overseer, he had a bugle what he blowed to wake up +de slaves. He blowed it long 'fore day so dat dey could eat breakfast +and be out dere in de fields waitin' for de sun to rise so dey could see +how to wuk, and dey stayed out dar and wukked 'til black dark. When a +rainy spell come and de grass got to growin' fast, dey wukked dem slaves +at night, even when de moon warn't shinin'. On dem dark nights one set +of slaves helt lanterns for de others to see how to chop de weeds out of +de cotton and corn. Wuk was sho' tight dem days. Evvy slave had a task +to do atter dey got back to dem cabins at night. Dey each one hed to +spin deir stint same as de 'omans, evvy night.</p> + +<p>"Young and old washed deir clothes Sadday nights. Dey hardly knowed what +Sunday was. Dey didn't have but one day in de Christmas, and de only +diff'unce dey seed dat day was dat dey give 'em some biscuits on +Christmas day. New Year's Day was rail-splittin' day. Dey was told how +many rails was to be cut, and dem Niggers better split dat many or +somebody was gwine to git beat up.</p> + +<p>"I don't 'member much 'bout what us played, 'cept de way us run 'round +in a ring. Us chillun was allus skeered to play in de thicket nigh de +house 'cause Raw Head and Bloody Bones lived der. Dey used to skeer us +out 'bout red 'taters. Dey was fine 'taters, red on de outside and +pretty and white on de inside, but white folks called 'em +'nigger-killers.' Dat was one of deir tricks to keep us from stealin' +dem 'taters. Dere wern't nothin' wrong wid dem 'taters; dey was jus' as +good and healthy as any other 'taters. Aunt Lucy, she was de cook, and +she told me dat slaves was skeered of dem 'nigger-killer' 'taters and +never bothered 'em much den lak dey does de yam patches dese days. I +used to think I seed ha'nts at night, but it allus turned out to be +somebody dat was tryin' to skeer me.</p> + +<p>"'Bout de most fun slaves had was at dem cornshuckin's. De general would +git high on top of de corn pile and whoop and holler down leadin' dat +cornshuckin' song 'til all de corn was done shucked. Den come de big +eats, de likker, and de dancin'. Cotton pickin's was big fun too, and +when dey got through pickin' de cotton dey et and drunk and danced 'til +dey couldn't dance no more.</p> + +<p>"Miss, white folks jus' had to be good to sick slaves, 'cause slaves was +property. For Old Marster to lose a slave, was losin' money. Dere warn't +so many doctors dem days and home-made medicines was all de go. Oil and +turpentine, camphor, assfiddy (asafetida), cherry bark, sweetgum bark; +all dem things was used to make teas for grown folks to take for deir +ailments. Red oak bark tea was give to chillun for stomach mis'ries.</p> + +<p>"All I can ricollect 'bout de comin' of freedom was Old Marster tellin' +us dat us was free as jack-rabbits and dat from den on Niggers would +have to git deir own somepin t'eat. It warn't long atter dat when dem +yankees, wid pretty blue clothes on come through our place and dey stole +most evvything our Marster had. Dey kilt his chickens, hogs, and cows +and tuk his hosses off and sold 'em. Dat didn't look right, did it?</p> + +<p>"My aunt give us a big weddin' feast when I married Tom Adams, and she +sho' did pile up dat table wid heaps of good eatments. My weddin' dress +was blue, trimmed in white. Us had six chillun, nine grandchillun, and +19 great-grandchillun. One of my grandchillun is done been blind since +he was three weeks old. I sont him off to de blind school and now he kin +git around 'most as good as I kin. He has made his home wid me ever +since his Mammy died.</p> + +<p>"'Cordin' to my way of thinkin', Abraham Lincoln done a good thing when +he sot us free. Jeff Davis, he was all right too, 'cause if him and +Lincoln hadn't got to fightin' us would have been slaves to dis very +day. It's mighty good to do jus' as you please, and bread and water is +heaps better dan dat somepin t'eat us had to slave for.</p> + +<p>"I jined up wid de church 'cause I wanted to go to Heben when I dies, +and if folks lives right dey sho' is gwine to have a good restin' place +in de next world. Yes Mam, I sho b'lieves in 'ligion, dat I does. Now, +Miss, if you ain't got nothin' else to ax me, I'se gwine home and give +dat blind boy his somepin t'eat."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AllenWashington"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br> +Ex-Slv. #4]<br> +<br> +WASHINGTON ALLEN, EX-SLAVE<br> +Born: December --, 1854<br> +Place of birth: "Some where" in South Carolina<br> +Present Residence: 1932-Fifth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia<br> +Interviewed: December 18, 1936<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> + +<p>[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the next informant, Rev. W.B. Allen.]</p> +<br> + +<p>The story of "Uncle Wash", as he is familiarly known, is condensed as +follows:</p> + +<p>He was born on the plantation of a Mr. Washington Allen of South +Carolina, for whom he was named. This Mr. Allen had several sons and +daughters, and of these, one son—George Allen—who, during the 1850's +left his South Carolina home and settled near LaFayette, Alabama. About +1858, Mr. Washington Allen died and the next year, when "Wash" was "a +five-year old shaver", the Allen estate in South Carolina was +divided—all except the Allen Negro slaves. These, at the instance and +insistence of Mr. George Allen, were taken to LaFayette, Alabama, to be +sold. All were put on the block and auctioned off, Mr. George Allen +buying every Negro, so that not a single slave family was divided up.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Wash" does not remember what he "fetched at de sale", but he does +distinctly remember that as he stepped up on the block to be sold, the +auctioneer ran his hand "over my head and said: Genilmens, dis boy is +as fine as split silk". Then when Mr. George Allen had bought all the +Allen slaves, it dawned upon them, and they appreciated, why he had +insisted on their being sold in Alabama, rather than in South Carolina.</p> + +<p>Before he was six years of age, little "Wash" lost his mother and, from +then until freedom, he was personally cared for and looked after by Mrs. +George Allen; and the old man wept every time he mentioned her name.</p> + +<p>During the '60's, "Uncle Wash's" father drove a mail and passenger stage +between Cusseta and LaFayette, Alabama—and, finally died and was buried +at LaFayette by the side of his wife. "Uncle Wash" "drifted over" to +Columbus about fifty years ago and is now living with his two surviving +children.</p> + +<p>He has been married four times, all his wives dying "nachul" deaths. He +has also "buried four chillun".</p> + +<p>He was taught to read and write by the sons and daughters of Mr. George +Allen, and attended church where a one-eyed white preacher—named Mr. +Terrentine—preached to the slaves each Sunday "evenin'" (afternoon). +The salary of this preacher was paid by Mr. George Allen.</p> + +<p>When asked what this preacher usually preached about, "Uncle Wash" +answered: "He was a one-eyed man an' couldn' see good; so, he mout +a'made some mistakes, but he sho tole us plenty 'bout hell fire 'n +brimstone."</p> + +<p>"Uncle Wash" is a literal worshipper of the memory of his "old time +white fokes."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AllenWB"></a> +<h3>J.R. Jones<br> +<br> +REV. W.B. ALLEN, EX-SLAVE<br> +425-Second Ave<br> +Columbus, Georgia<br> +(June 29, 1937)<br> +[JUL 28 1937]</h3> + +<p>[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the previous informant, Washington +Allen, interviewed on Dec. 18, 1936. The previous interview for Rev. +Allen that is mentioned below is not found in this volume.]</p> +<br> + +<p>In a second interview, the submission of which was voluntarily sought by +himself, this very interesting specimen of a rapidly vanishing type +expressed a desire to amend his previous interview (of May 10, 1937) to +incorporate the following facts:</p> + +<p>"For a number of years before freedom, my father bought his time from +his master and traveled about over Russell County (Alabama) as a +journeyman blacksmith, doing work for various planters and making good +money—as money went in those days—on the side. At the close of the +war, however, though he had a trunk full of Confederate money, all of +his good money was gone.</p> + +<p>Father could neither read nor write, but had a good head for figures and +was very pious. His life had a wonderful influence upon me, though I was +originally worldly—that is, I drank and cussed, but haven't touched a +drop of spirits in forty years and quit cussing before I entered the +ministry in 1879.</p> + +<p>I learned to pray when very young and kept it up even in my unsaved +days. My white master's folks knew me to be a praying boy, and asked +me—in 1865—when the South was about whipped and General Wilson was +headed our way—to pray to God to hold the Yankees back. Of course, I +didn't have any love for any Yankees—and haven't now, for that +matter—but I told my white folks straight-from-the-shoulder that I +<i>could not</i> pray along those lines. I told them flat-footedly that, +while I loved them and would do any reasonable praying for them, I could +not pray against my conscience: that I not only wanted to be free, but +that I wanted to see all the Negroes freed!</p> + +<p>I then told them that God was using the Yankees to scourge the +slave-holders just as He had, centuries before, used heathens and +outcasts to chastise His chosen people—the Children of Israel."</p> + +<p>(Here it is to be noted that, for a slave boy of between approximately +15 and 17 years of age, remarkable familiarity with the Old Testament +was displayed.)</p> + +<p>The Parson then entered into a mild tirade against Yankees, saying:</p> + +<p>"The only time the Northern people ever helped the Nigger was when they +freed him. They are not friends of the Negro and many a time, from my +pulpit, have I warned Niggers about going North. No, sir, the colored +man doesn't belong in the North—-has no business up there, and you may +tell the world that the Reverend W.B. Allen makes no bones about saying +that! He also says that, if it wasn't for the influence of the white +race in the South, the Negro race would revert to savagery within a +year! Why, if they knew for dead certain that there was not a policeman +or officer of the law in Columbus tonight, the good Lord only knows what +they'd do tonight"!</p> + +<p>When the good Parson had delivered himself as quoted, he was asked a +few questions, the answers to which—as shall follow—disclose their +nature.</p> + +<p>"The lowest down Whites of slavery days were the average overseers. A +few were gentlemen, one must admit, but the regular run of them were +trash—commoner than the 'poor white trash'—and, if possible, their +children were worse than their daddies. The name, 'overseer', was a +synonym for 'slave driver', 'cruelty', 'brutishness'. No, sir, a Nigger +may be humble and refuse to talk outside of his race—because he's +afraid to, but you can't fool him about a white man!</p> + +<p>And you couldn't fool him when he was a slave! He knows a white man for +what he is, and he knew him the same way in slavery times."</p> + +<p>Concerning the punishment of slaves, the Reverend said:</p> + +<p>"I never heard or knew of a slave being tried in court for any thing. I +never knew of a slave being guilty of any crime more serious than taking +something or violating plantation rules. And the only punishment that I +ever heard or knew of being administered slaves was whipping.</p> + +<p>I have personally known a few slaves that were beaten to death for one +or more of the following offenses:</p> + +<pre> +Leaving home without a pass, + +Talking back to—'sassing'—a white person, + +Hitting another Negro, + +Fussing, fighting, and rukkussing in the quarters, + +Lying, + +Loitering on their work, + +Taking things—the Whites called it stealing. + +Plantation rules forbade a slave to: + +Own a firearm, + +Leave home without a pass, + +Sell or buy anything without his master's consent, + +Marry without his owner's consent, + +Have a light in his cabin after a certain hour at night, + +Attend any secret meeting, + +Harbor or [HW: in] any manner assist a runaway slave, + +Abuse a farm animal, + +Mistreat a member of his family, and do + +A great many other things." +</pre> + +<p>When asked if he had ever heard slaves plot an insurrection, the Parson +answered in the negative.</p> + +<p>When asked if he had personal knowledge of an instance of a slave +offering resistance to corporal punishment, the Reverend shook his head, +but said:</p> + +<p>"Sometimes a stripped Nigger would say some hard things to the white man +with the strap in his hand, though he knew that he (the Negro) would pay +for it dearly, for when a slave showed spirit that way the master or +overseer laid the lash on all the harder."</p> + +<p>When asked how the women took their whippings, he said:</p> + +<p>"They usually screamed and prayed, though a few never made a sound."</p> + +<p>The Parson has had two wives and five children. Both wives and three of +his children are dead. He is also now superannuated, but occasionally +does a "little preaching", having only recently been down to Montezuma, +Georgia, on a special call to deliver a message to the Methodist flock +there.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AtkinsonJack"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br> +Ex-Slave #2]<br> +Henrietta Carlisle<br> +<br> +JACK ATKINSON—EX-SLAVE<br> +Rt. D<br> +Griffin, Georgia<br> +Interviewed August 21, 1936<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Onct a man, twice a child," quoted Jack Atkinson, grey haired darkey, +when being interviewed, "and I done started in my second childhood. I +useter be active as a cat, but I ain't, no mo."</p> + +<p>Jack acquired his surname from his white master, a Mr. Atkinson, who +owned this Negro family prior to the War Between the States. He was a +little boy during the war but remembers "refugeeing" to Griffin from +Butts County, Georgia, with the Atkinsons when Sherman passed by their +home on his march to the sea.</p> + +<p>Jack's father, Tom, the body-servant of Mr. Atkinson, "tuck care of him" +[HW: during] the four years they were away at war. "Many's the time I +done heard my daddy tell 'bout biting his hands he wuz so hongry, and +him and Marster drinking water outer the ruts of the road, they wuz so +thirsty, during the war."</p> + +<p>"Boss Man (Mr. Atkinson), wuz as fine a man as ever broke bread", +according to Jack.</p> + +<p>When asked how he got married he stated that he "broke off a love vine +and throwed it over the fence and if it growed" he would get married. +The vine "just growed and growed" and it wasn't long before he and Lucy +married.</p> + +<p>"A hootin' owl is a sho sign of rain, and a screech owl means a death, +for a fact."</p> + +<p>"A tree frog's holler is a true sign of rain."</p> + +<p>Jack maintains that he has received "a second blessing from the Lord" +and "no conjurer can bother him."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AustinHannah"></a> +<h3>Whitley<br> +1-25-37<br> +[HW: Dis #5<br> +Unedited]<br> +Minnie B. Ross<br> +<br> +EX TOWN SLAVE HANNAH AUSTIN<br> +[HW: about 75-85]<br> +[APR 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>When the writer was presented to Mrs. Hannah Austin she was immediately +impressed with her alert youthful appearance. Mrs. Austin is well +preserved for her age and speaks clearly and with much intelligence. The +interview was a brief but interesting one. This was due partly to the +fact that Mrs. Austin was a small child when The Civil War ended and too +because her family was classed as "town slaves" so classed because of +their superior intelligence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin was a child of ten or twelve years when the war ended. She +doesn't know her exact age but estimated it to be between seventy and +seventy five years. She was born the oldest child of Liza and George +Hall. Their master Mr. Frank Hall was very kind to them and considerate +in his treatment of them.</p> + +<p>Briefly Mrs. Austin gave the following account of slavery as she knew +it. "My family lived in a two room well built house which had many +windows and a nice large porch. Our master, Mr. Hall was a merchant and +operated a clothing store. Because Mr. Hall lived in town he did not +need but a few slaves. My family which included my mother, father, +sister, and myself were his only servants. Originally Mr. Hall did not +own any slaves, however after marrying Mrs. Hall we were given to her by +her father as a part of her inheritance.</p> + +<p>My mother nursed Mrs. Hall from a baby, consequently the Hall family was +very fond of her and often made the statement that they would not part +with her for anything in the world, besides working as the cook for the +Hall family my mother was also a fine seamstress and made clothing for +the master's family and for our family. We were allowed an ample amount +of good clothing which Mr. Hall selected from the stock in his store. My +father worked as a porter in the store and did other jobs around the +house. I did not have to work and spent most of my time playing with the +Hall children. We were considered the better class of slaves and did not +know the meaning of a hard time.</p> + +<p>Other slave owners whipped their slaves severely and often, but I have +never known our master to whip any one of my family. If any one in the +family became ill the family doctor was called in as often as he was +needed.</p> + +<p>We did not have churches of our own but were allowed to attend the white +churches in the afternoon. The White families attended in the forenoon. +We seldom heard a true religious sermon; but were constantly preached +the doctrine of obedience to our masters and mistresses. We were +required to attend church every Sunday.</p> + +<p>Marriages were conducted in much the same manner as they are today. +After the usual courtship a minister was called in by the master and the +marriage ceremony would then take place. In my opinion people of today +are more lax in their attitude toward marriage than they were in those +days. Following the marriage of a slave couple a celebration would take +place often the master and his family would take part in the +celebration.</p> + +<p>I remember hearing my mother and father discuss the war; but was too +young to know just the effect the war would have on the slave. One day I +remember Mr. Hall coming to my mother telling her we were free. His +exact words were quote—"Liza you don't belong to me any longer you +belong to yourself. If you are hired now I will have to pay you. I do +not want you to leave as you have a home here as long as you live." I +watched my mother to see the effect his words would have on her and I +saw her eyes fill with tears. Mr. Hall's eyes filled with tears also.</p> + +<p>Soon after this incident a Yankee Army appeared in our village one day. +They practically destroyed Mr. Hall's store by throwing all clothes and +other merchandise into the streets. Seeing my sister and I they turned +to us saying, "Little Negroes you are free there are no more masters and +mistresses, here help yourselves to these clothes take them home with +you." Not knowing any better we carried stockings, socks, dresses, +underwear and many other pieces home. After this they opened the smoke +house door and told us to go in and take all of the meat we wanted.</p> + +<p>On another occasion the mistress called me asking that I come in the +yard to play with the children". Here Mrs. Austin began to laugh and +remarked "I did not go but politely told her I was free and didn't +belong to any one but my mama and papa. As I spoke these words my +mistress began to cry.</p> + +<p>My mother and father continued to live with the Halls even after freedom +and until their deaths. Although not impoverished most of the Hall's +fortune was wiped out with the war".</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin married at the age of 16 years; and was the mother of four +children, all of whom are dead. She was very ambitious and was +determined to get an education if such was possible. After the war +Northern white people came south and set up schools for the education of +Negroes. She remembers the organization of the old Storrs School from +which one of the present Negroes Colleges originated.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Austin proudly spoke of her old blue back speller, which she still +possesses; and of the days when she attended Storrs School.</p> + +<p>As the writer made ready to depart Mrs. Austin smilingly informed her +that she had told her all that she knew about slavery; and every word +spoken was the truth.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AveryCelestia"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br> +Ex Slave #1<br> +Ross]<br> +<br> +"A FEW FACTS OF SLAVERY"<br> +As Told by CELESTIA AVERY—EX-SLAVE<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Celestia Avery is a small mulatto woman about 5 ft. in height. She +has a remarkably clear memory in view of the fact that she is about 75 +years of age. Before the interview began she reminded the writer that +the facts to be related were either told to her by her grandmother, +Sylvia Heard, or were facts which she remembered herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery was born 75 years ago in Troupe County, LaGrange, Ga. the +eighth oldest child of Lenora and Silas Heard. There were 10 other +children beside herself. She and her family were owned by Mr. & Mrs. +Peter Heard. In those days the slaves carried the surname of their +master; this accounted for all slaves having the same name whether they +were kin or not.</p> + +<p>The owner Mr. Heard had a plantation of about 500 acres and was +considered wealthy by all who knew him. Mrs. Avery was unable to give +the exact number of slaves on the plantation, but knew he owned a large +number. Cotton, corn, peas, potatoes, (etc.) were the main crops raised.</p> + +<p>The homes provided for the slaves were two room log cabins which had one +door and one window. These homes were not built in a group together but +were more or less scattered over the plantation. Slave homes were very +simple and only contained a home made table, chair and bed which were +made of the same type of wood and could easily be cleaned by scouring +with sand every Saturday. The beds were bottomed with rope which was run +backward and forward from one rail to the other. On this framework was +placed a mattress of wheat straw. Each spring the mattresses were +emptied and refilled with fresh wheat straw.</p> + +<p>Slaves were required to prepare their own meals three times a day. This +was done in a big open fire place which was filled with hot coals. The +master did not give them much of a variety of food, but allowed each +family to raise their own vegetables. Each family was given a hand out +of bacon and meal on Saturdays and through the week corn ash cakes and +meat; which had been broiled on the hot coals was the usual diet found +in each home. The diet did not vary even at Christmas only a little +fruit was added.</p> + +<p>Each family was provided with a loom and in Mrs. Avery's family, her +grandmother, Sylvia Heard, did most of the carding and spinning of the +thread into cloth. The most common cloth for women clothes was homespun, +and calico. This same cloth was dyed and used to make men shirts and +pants. Dye was prepared by taking a berry known as the shumake berry and +boiling them with walnut peelings. Spring and fall were the seasons for +masters to give shoes and clothing to their slaves. Both men and women +wore brogan shoes, the only difference being the piece in the side of +the womens.</p> + +<p>One woman was required to do the work around the house there was also +one slave man required to work around the house doing odd jobs. Other +than these two every one else was required to do the heavy work in the +fields. Work began at "sun up" and lasted until "sun down". In the +middle of the day the big bell was rung to summon the workers from the +field, for their mid-day lunch. After work hours slaves were then free +to do work around their own cabins, such as sewing, cooking (etc.)</p> + +<p>"Once a week Mr. Heard allowed his slaves to have a frolic and folks +would get broke down from so much dancing" Mrs. Avery remarked. The +music was furnished with fiddles. When asked how the slaves came to own +fiddles she replied, "They bought them with money they earned selling +chickens." At night slaves would steal off from the Heard plantation, go +to LaGrange, Ga. and sell chickens which they had raised. Of course the +masters always required half of every thing raised by each slave and it +was not permissible for any slave to sell anything. Another form of +entertainment was the quilting party. Every one would go together to +different person's home on each separate night of the week and finish +that person's quilts. Each night this was repeated until every one had a +sufficient amount of covering for the winter. Any slave from another +plantation, desiring to attend these frolics, could do so after securing +a pass from their master.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery related the occasion when her Uncle William was caught off +the Heard plantation without a pass, and was whipped almost to death by +the "Pader Rollers." He stole off to the depths of the woods here he +built a cave large enough to live in. A few nights later he came back to +the plantation unobserved and carried his wife and two children back to +this cave where they lived until after freedom. When found years later +his wife had given birth to two children. No one was ever able to find +his hiding place and if he saw any one in the woods he would run like a +lion.</p> + +<p>Mr. Heard was a very mean master and was not liked by any one of his +slaves. Secretly each one hated him. He whipped unmercifully and in most +cases unnecessarily. However, he sometimes found it hard to subdue some +slaves who happened to have very high tempers. In the event this was the +case he would set a pack of hounds on him. Mrs. Avery related to the +writer the story told to her of Mr. Heard's cruelty by her grandmother. +The facts were as follows: "Every morning my grandmother would pray, and +old man Heard despised to hear any one pray saying they were only doing +so that they might become free niggers. Just as sure as the sun would +rise, she would get a whipping; but this did not stop her prayers every +morning before day. This particular time grandmother Sylvia was in +"family way" and that morning she began to pray as usual. The master +heard her and became so angry he came to her cabin seized and pulled her +clothes from her body and tied her to a young sapling. He whipped her so +brutally that her body was raw all over. When darkness fell her husband +cut her down from the tree, during the day he was afraid to go near her. +Rather than go back to the cabin she crawled on her knees to the woods +and her husband brought grease for her to grease her raw body. For two +weeks the master hunted but could not find her; however, when he finally +did, she had given birth to twins. The only thing that saved her was the +fact that she was a mid-wife and always carried a small pin knife which +she used to cut the navel cord of the babies. After doing this she tore +her petticoat into two pieces and wrapped each baby. Grandmother Sylvia +lived to get 115 years old.</p> + +<p>Not only was Mr. Henderson cruel but it seemed that every one he hired +in the capacity of overseer was just as cruel. For instance, Mrs. +Henderson's grandmother Sylvia, was told to take her clothes off when +she reached the end of a row. She was to be whipped because she had not +completed the required amount of hoeing for the day. Grandmother +continued hoeing until she came to a fence; as the overseer reached out +to grab her she snatched a fence railing and broke it across his arms. +On another occasion grandmother Sylvia ran all the way to town to tell +the master that an overseer was beating her husband to death. The master +immediately jumped on his horse and started for home; and reaching the +plantation he ordered the overseer to stop whipping the old man. Mrs. +Avery received one whipping, with a hair brush, for disobedience; this +was given to her by the mistress.</p> + +<p>Slaves were given separate churches, but the minister, who conducted the +services, was white. Very seldom did the text vary from the usual one of +obedience to the master and mistress, and the necessity for good +behavior. Every one was required to attend church, however, the only +self expression they could indulge in without conflict with the master +was that of singing. Any one heard praying was given a good whipping; +for most masters thought their prayers no good since freedom was the +uppermost thought in every one's head.</p> + +<p>On the Heard plantation as on a number of others, marriages were made by +the masters of the parties concerned. Marriage licenses were unheard of. +If both masters mutually consented, the marriage ceremony was considered +over with. After that the husband was given a pass to visit his wife +once a week. In the event children were born the naming of them was left +entirely to the master. Parents were not allowed to name them.</p> + +<p>Health of slaves was very important to every slave owner for loss of +life meant loss of money to them. Consequently they would call in their +family doctor, if a slave became seriously ill. In minor cases of +illness home remedies were used. "In fact," Mrs. Avery smilingly +remarked, "We used every thing for medicine that grew in the ground." +One particular home remedy was known as "Cow foot oil" which was made by +boiling cow's feet in water. Other medicines used were hoarhound tea, +catnip tea, and castor oil. Very often medicines and doctors failed to +save life; and whenever a slave died he was buried the same day. Mrs. +Avery remarked, "If he died before dinner the funeral and burial usually +took place immediately after dinner."</p> + +<p>Although a very young child, Mrs. Avery remembers the frantic attempt +slave owners made to hide their money when the war broke out. The +following is a story related concerning the Heard family. "Mr. Heard, +our master, went to the swamp, dug a hole, and hid his money, then he +and his wife left for town on their horses. My oldest brother, Percy, +saw their hiding place; and when the Yanks came looking for the money, +he carried them straight to the swamps and showed than where the money +was hidden." Although the Yeard [TR: typo "Heard"] farm was in the +country the highway was very near and Mrs. Avery told of the long army +of soldiers marching to La Grange singing the following song: "Rally +around the flag boys, rally around the flag, joy, joy, for freedom." +When the war ended Mr. Heard visited every slave home and broke the news +to each family that they were free people and if they so desired could +remain on his plantation. Mrs. Avery's family moved away, in fact most +slave families did, for old man Heard had been such a cruel master +everyone was anxious to get away from him. However, one year later he +sold his plantation to Mr George Traylor and some of the families moved +back, Mrs. Avery's family included.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery married at the age of 16; and was the mother of 14 children, +three of whom are still living. Although she has had quite a bit of +illness during her life, at present she is quite well and active in +spite of her old age. She assured the writer that the story of slavery, +which she had given her, was a true one and sincerely hoped it would do +some good in this world.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="AveryCelestia2"></a> +<h3>FOLKLORE (Negro)<br> +Minnie B. Ross<br> +<br> +[MRS. CELESTIA AVERY]</h3> +<br> + +<p>In a small house at 173 Phoenix Alley, N.E. lives a little old woman +about 5 ft. 2 in. in height, who is an ex-slave. She greeted the writer +with a bright smile and bade her enter and have a seat by the small fire +in the poorly lighted room. The writer vividly recalled the interview +she gave on slavery previously and wondered if any facts concerning +superstitions, conjure, signs, etc. could be obtained from her. After a +short conversation pertaining to everyday occurrences, the subject of +superstition was broached to Mrs. Avery. The idea amused her and she +gave the writer the following facts: As far as possible the stories are +given in her exact words. The interview required two days, November 30 +and December 2, 1936.</p> + +<p>"When you see a dog lay on his stomach and slide it is a true sign of +death. This is sho true cause it happened to me. Years ago when I lived +on Pine Street I was sitting on my steps playing with my nine-months old +baby. A friend uv mine came by and sat down; and as we set there a dog +that followed her began to slide on his stomach. It scared me; and I +said to her, did you see that dog? Yes, I sho did. That night my baby +died and it wuzn't sick at all that day. That's the truth and a sho sign +of death. Anudder sign of death is ter dream of a new-born baby. One +night not so long ago I dreamt about a new-born baby and you know I went +ter the door and called Miss Mary next door and told her I dreamed about +a new-born baby, and she said, Oh! that's a sho sign of death. The same +week that gal's baby over there died. It didn't surprise me when I heard +it cause I knowed somebody round here wuz go die." She continued:</p> + +<p>"Listen, child! If ebber you clean your bed, don't you never sweep off +your springs with a broom. Always wipe 'em with a rag, or use a brush. +Jest as sho as you do you see or experience death around you. I took my +bed down and swept off my springs, and I jest happened to tell old Mrs. +Smith; and she jumped up and said, 'Child, you ought not done that +cause it's a sign of death.' Sho nuff the same night I lost another +child that wuz eight years old. The child had heart trouble, I think."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery believes in luck to a certain extent. The following are +examples of how you may obtain luck:</p> + +<p>"I believe you can change your luck by throwing a teaspoonful of sulphur +in the fire at zackly 12 o'clock in the day. I know last week I was +sitting here without a bit of fire, but I wuzn't thinking bout doing +that till a 'oman came by and told me ter scrape up a stick fire and put +a spoonful of sulphur on it; and sho nuff in a hour's time a coal man +came by and gave me a tub uv coal. Long time ago I used ter work fer +some white women and every day at 12 o'clock I wuz told ter put a +teaspoonful of sulphur in the fire."</p> + +<p>"Another thing, I sho ain't going ter let a 'oman come in my house on +Monday morning unless a man done come in there fust. No, surree, if it +seem lak one ain't coming soon, I'll call one of the boy chilluns, jest +so it is a male. The reason fer this is cause women is bad luck."</p> + +<p>The following are a few of the luck charms as described by Mrs. Avery:</p> + +<p>"Black cat bone is taken from a cat. First, the cat is killed and +boiled, after which the meat is scraped from the bones. The bones are +then taken to the creek and thrown in. The bone that goes up stream is +the lucky bone and is the one that should be kept." "There is a boy in +this neighborhood that sells liquor and I know they done locked him up +ten or twelve times but he always git out. They say he carries a black +cat bone," related Mrs. Avery.</p> + +<p>"The Devil's shoe string looks jest like a fern with a lot of roots. My +mother used to grow them in the corner of our garden. They are lucky.</p> + +<p>"Majres (?) are always carried tied in the corner of a handkerchief. I +don't know how they make 'em.</p> + +<p>"I bought a lucky stick from a man onct. It looked jest lak a candle, +only it wuz small; but he did have some sticks as large as candles and +he called them lucky sticks, too, but you had to burn them all night in +your room. He also had some that looked jest lak buttons, small and +round."</p> + +<p>The following are two stories of conjure told by Mrs. Avery:</p> + +<p>"I knowed a man onct long ago and he stayed sick all der time. He had +the headache from morning till night. One day he went to a old man that +wuz called a conjurer; this old man told him that somebody had stole the +sweat-band out of his cap and less he got it back, something terrible +would happen. They say this man had been going with a 'oman and she had +stole his sweat-band. Well, he never did get it, so he died.</p> + +<p>"I had a cousin named Alec Heard, and he had a wife named Anna Heard. +Anna stayed sick all der time almost; fer two years she complained. One +day a old conjurer came to der house and told Alec that Anna wuz +poisoned, but if he would give him $5.00 he would come back Sunday +morning and find the conjure. Alec wuz wise, so he bored a hole in the +kitchen floor so that he could jest peep through there to der back +steps. Sho nuff Sunday morning the nigger come back and as Alec watched +him he dug down in the gound a piece, then he took a ground puppy, threw +it in the hole and covered it up. All right, he started digging again +and all at onct he jumped up and cried: 'Here 'tis! I got it.' 'Got +what?' Alec said, running to the door with a piece of board. 'I got the +ground puppy dat wuz buried fer her.' Alec wuz so mad he jumped on that +man and beat him most to death. They say he did that all the time and +kept a lot of ground puppies fer that purpose." Continuing, she +explained that a ground puppy was a worm with two small horns. They are +dug up out of the ground, and there is a belief that you will die if one +barks at you.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Avery related two ways in which you can keep from being conjured by +anyone.</p> + +<p>"One thing I do every morning is ter sprinkle chamber-lye [HW: (urine)] +with salt and then throw it all around my door. They sho can't fix you +if you do this. Anudder thing, if you wear a silver dime around your +leg they can't fix you. The 'oman live next door says she done wore two +silver dimes around her leg for 18 years."</p> + +<p>Next is a story of the Jack O'Lantern.</p> + +<p>"Onct when I wuz a little girl a lot of us chillun used to slip off and +take walnuts from a old man. We picked a rainy night so nobody would see +us, but do you know it looked like a thousand Jack ma' Lanterns got in +behind us. They wuz all around us. I never will ferget my brother +telling me ter get out in the path and turn my pocket wrong side out. I +told him I didn't have no pocket but the one in my apron; he said, +'well, turn that one wrong side out.' Sho nuff we did and they scattered +then."</p> + +<p>Closing the interview, Mrs. Avery remarked: "That's bout all I know; but +come back some time and maybe I'll think of something else."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="HeardEmmaline"></a> +<h3>MRS. EMMALINE HEARD</h3> + +<p>[TR: This interview, which was attached to the interview with Mrs. +Celestia Avery, is also included in the second volume of the Georgia +Narratives.]</p> +<br> + +<p>On December 3 and 4, 1936, Mrs. Emmaline Heard was interviewed at her +home, 239 Cain Street. The writer had visited Mrs. Heard previously, and +it was at her own request that another visit was made. This visit was +supposed to be one to obtain information and stories on the practice of +conjure. On two previous occasions Mrs. Heard's stories had proved very +interesting, and I knew as I sat there waiting for her to begin that she +had something very good to tell me. She began:</p> + +<p>"Chile, this story wuz told ter me by my father and I know he sho +wouldn't lie. Every word of it is the trufe; fact, everything I ebber +told you wuz the trufe. Now, my pa had a brother, old Uncle Martin, and +his wife wuz name Julianne. Aunt Julianne used ter have spells and fight +and kick all the time. They had doctor after doctor but none did her any +good. Somebody told Uncle Martin to go ter a old conjurer and let the +doctors go cause they wan't doing nothing fer her anyway. Sho nuff he +got one ter come see her and give her some medicine. This old man said +she had bugs in her head, and after giving her the medicine he started +rubbing her head. While he rubbed her head he said: 'Dar's a bug in her +head; it looks jest like a big black roach. Now, he's coming out of her +head through her ear; whatever you do, don't let him get away cause I +want him. Whatever you do, catch him; he's going ter run, but when he +hits the pillow, grab 'em. I'm go take him and turn it back on the one +who is trying ter send you ter the grave.' Sho nuff that bug drap out +her ear and flew; she hollered, and old Uncle Martin ran in the room, +snatched the bed clothes off but they never did find him. Aunt Julianne +never did get better and soon she died. The conjurer said if they had a +caught the bug she would a lived."</p> + +<p>The next story is a true story. The facts as told by Mrs. Heard were +also witnessed by her; as it deals with the conjuring of one of her +sons. It is related in her exact words as nearly as possible.</p> + +<p>"I got a son named Albert Heard. He is living and well; but chile, there +wuz a time when he wuz almost ter his grave. I wuz living in town then, +and Albert and his wife wuz living in the country with their two +chillun. Well, Albert got down sick and he would go ter doctors, and go +ter doctors, but they didn't do him any good. I wuz worried ter death +cause I had ter run backards and for'ards and it wuz a strain on me. He +wuz suffering with a knot on his right side and he couldn't even fasten +his shoes cause it pained him so, and it wuz so bad he couldn't even +button up his pants. A 'oman teached school out there by the name of +Mrs. Yancy; she's dead now but she lived right here on Randolph Street +years ago. Well, one day when I wuz leaving Albert's house I met her on +the way from her school. 'Good evening, Mrs. Heard,' she says. 'How is +Mr. Albert?' I don't hardly know, I says, cause he don't get no better. +She looked at me kinda funny and said, don't you believe he's hurt?' Yes +mam, I said, I sho do. 'Well,' says she, 'I been wanting to say +something to you concerning this but I didn't know how you would take +it. If I tell you somewhere ter go will you go, and tell them I sent +you?' Yes mam, I will do anything if Albert can get better. 'All right +then', she says. 'Catch the Federal Prison car and get off at Butler +St.' In them days that car came down Forrest Ave. 'When you get to +Butler St.', she says, 'walk up to Clifton St. and go to such and such a +number. Knock on the door and a 'oman by the name of Mrs. Hirshpath will +come ter the door. Fore she let you in she go ask who sent you there; +when you tell 'er, she'll let you in. Now lemme tell you she keeps two +quarts of whisky all the time and you have ter drink a little with her; +sides that she cusses nearly every word she speaks; but don't let that +scare you; she will sho get your son up if it kin be done.' Sho nuff +that old 'oman did jest lak Mrs. Yancy said she would do. She had a +harsh voice and she spoke right snappy. When she let me in she said, sit +down. You lak whisky?' I said, well, I take a little dram sometimes. +'Well, here take some of this', she said. I poured a little bit and +drank it kinda lak I wuz afraid. She cursed and said 'I ain't go conjure +you. Drink it.' She got the cards and told me to cut 'em, so I did. +Looking at the cards, she said: 'You lak ter wait too long; they got him +marching to the cemetery. The poor thing! I'll fix those devils. (A +profane word was used instead of devils). He got a knot on his side, +ain't he?' Yes, Mam, I said. That 'oman told me everything that was +wrong with Albert and zackly how he acted. All at once she said; 'If +them d----d things had hatched in him it would a been too late. If you +do zackly lak I tell you I'll get him up from there.' I sho will, I told +her. 'Well, there's a stable sets east of his house. His house got three +rooms and a path go straight to the stable. I see it there where he +hangs his harness. Yes, I see it all, the devils! Have you got any +money?' Yes, mam, a little, I said. 'All right then,' she said. 'Go to +the drug store and get 5¢ worth of blue stone; 5¢ wheat bran; and go ter +a fish market and ask 'em ter give you a little fish brine; then go in +the woods and get some poke-root berries. Now, there's two kinds of +poke-root berries, the red skin and the white skin berry. Put all this +in a pot, mix with it the guts from a green gourd and 9 parts of red +pepper. Make a poultice and put to his side on that knot. Now, listen, +your son will be afraid and think you are trying ter do something ter +him but be gentle and persuade him that its fer his good.' Child, he sho +did act funny when I told him I wanted to treat his side. I had ter tell +him I wuz carrying out doctors orders so he could get well. He reared +and fussed and said he didn't want that mess on him. I told him the +doctor says you do very well till you go ter the horse lot then you go +blind and you can't see. He looked at me. 'Sho nuff, Ma, he said, 'that +sho is the trufe. I have ter always call one of the chillun when I go +there cause I can't see how ter get back ter the house.' Well, that +convinced him and he let me fix the medicine for him. I put him ter bed +and made the poultice, then I put it ter his side. Now this 'oman said +no one wuz ter take it off the next morning but me. I wuz suppose ter +fix three, one each night, and after taking each one off ter bury it lak +dead folks is buried, east and west, and ter make a real grave out of +each one. Well, when I told him not ter move it the next morning, but +let me move it, he got funny again and wanted to know why. Do you know I +had ter play lak I could move it without messing up my bed clothes and +if he moved it he might waste it all. Finally he said he would call me +the next morning. Sho nuff, the next morning he called me, ma! ma! come +take it off. I went in the room and he wuz smiling. I slept all night +long he said, and I feel so much better. I'm so glad, I said, and do you +know he could reach down and fasten up his shoe and it had been a long +time since he could do that. Later that day I slipped out and made my +first grave under the fig bush in the garden. I even put up head boards, +too. That night Albert said, 'Mama, fix another one. I feel so much +better.' I sho will, I said. Thank God you're better; so fer three +nights I fixed poultices and put ter his side and each morning he would +tell me how much better he felt. Then the last morning I wuz fixing +breakfast and he sat in the next room. After while Albert jumped up and +hollered, Ma! Ma!' What is it,' I said. 'Mama, that knot is gone. It +dropped down in my pants.' What! I cried. Where is it? Chile, we looked +but we didn't find anything, but the knot had sho gone. Der 'oman had +told me ter come back when the knot moved and she would tell me what +else ter do. That same day I went ter see her and when I told her she +just shouted, 'I fixed 'em, The devils! Now, says she, do you [TR: +know?] where you can get a few leaves off a yellow peachtree. It must be +a yellow peach tree, though. Yes, mam, I says to her. I have a yellow +peachtree right there in my yard. Well, she says, get a handful of +leaves, then take a knife and scrape the bark up, then make a tea and +give him so it will heal up the poison from that knot in his side, also +mix a few jimson weeds with it. I come home and told him I wanted ter +give him a tea. He got scared and said, what fer, Ma? I had ter tell him +I wuz still carrying out the doctor's orders. Well, he let me give him +the tea and that boy got well. I went back to Mrs. Hirshpath and told +her my son was well and I wanted to pay her. Go on, she said, keep the +dollar and send your chillun ter school. This sho happened ter me and I +know people kin fix you. Yes sir."</p> + +<p>The next story was told to Mrs. Heard by Mrs. Hirshpath, the woman who +cured her son.</p> + +<p>I used to go see that 'oman quite a bit and even sent some of my +friends ter her. One day while I wuz there she told me about this piece +of work she did.</p> + +<p>"There was a young man and his wife and they worked fer some white +folks. They had jest married and wuz trying ter save some money ter buy +a home with. All at onct the young man went blind and it almost run him +and his wife crazy cause they didn't know what in the world ter do. +Well, somebody told him and her about Mrs. Hirshpath, so they went ter +see her. One day, says Mrs. Hirshpath, a big fine carriage drew up in +front of her door and the coachman helped him to her door. She asked him +who sent him and he told her. She only charged 50¢ for giving advice and +after you wuz cured it wuz up ter you to give her what you wanted to. +Well, this man gave her 50¢ and she talked ter him. She says, boy, you +go home and don't you put that cap on no more. What cap? he says. That +cap you wears ter clean up the stables with, cause somebody done dressed +that cap fer you, and every time you perspire and it run down ter your +eyes it makes you blind. You jest get that cap and bring it ter me. I'll +fix 'em; they's trying ter make you blind, but I go let you see. The boy +was overjoyed, and sho nuff he went back and brought her that cap, and +it wuzn't long fore he could see good as you and me. He brought that +'oman $50, but she wouldn't take but $25 and give the other $25 back ter +him.</p> + +<p>"What I done told you is the trufe, every word of it; I know some other +things that happened but you come back anudder day fer that."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BakerGeorgia"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +GEORGIA BAKER, Age 87<br> +369 Meigs Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +Dist. Supvr.<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Ga.<br> +<br> +August 4, 1938</h3> +<br> + +<p>Georgia's address proved to be the home of her daughter, Ida Baker. The +clean-swept walks of the small yard were brightened by borders of gay +colored zinnias and marigolds in front of the drab looking two-story, +frame house. "Come in," answered Ida, in response to a knock at the +front door. "Yessum, Mammy's here. Go right in dat dere room and you'll +find her."</p> + +<p>Standing by the fireplace of the next room was a thin, very black woman +engaged in lighting her pipe. A green checked gingham apron partially +covered her faded blue frock over which she wore a black shirtwaist +fastened together with "safety first" pins. A white cloth, tied turban +fashion about her head, and gray cotton hose worn with black and white +slippers that were run down at the heels, completed her costume.</p> + +<p>"Good mornin'. Yessum, dis here's Georgia," was her greeting. "Let's go +in dar whar Ida is so us can set down. I don't know what you come for, +but I guess I'll soon find out."</p> + +<p>Georgia was eager to talk but her articulation had been impaired by a +paralytic stroke and at times it was difficult to understand her jumble +of words. After observance of the amenities; comments on the weather, +health and such subjects, she began:</p> + +<p>"Whar was I born? Why I was born on de plantation of a great man. It was +Marse Alec Stephens' plantation 'bout a mile and a half from +Crawfordville, in Taliaferro County. Mary and Grandison Tilly was my Ma +and Pa. Ma was cook up at de big house and she died when I was jus' a +little gal. Pa was a field hand, and he belonged to Marse Britt Tilly.</p> + +<p>"Dere was four of us chillun: me, and Mary, and Frances, and Mack," she +counted on the fingers of one hand. "Marse Alec let Marse Jim Johnson +have Mack for his bodyguard. Frances, she wuked in de field, and Mary +was de baby—she was too little to wuk. Me, I was 14 years old when de +war was over. I swept yards, toted water to de field, and played 'round +de house and yard wid de rest of de chillun.</p> + +<p>"De long, log houses what us lived in was called "shotgun" houses 'cause +dey had three rooms, one behind de other in a row lak de barrel of a +shotgun. All de chillun slept in one end room and de grown folkses slept +in de other end room. De kitchen whar us cooked and et was de middle +room. Beds was made out of pine poles put together wid cords. Dem +wheat-straw mattresses was for grown folkses mostly 'cause nigh all de +chillun slept on pallets. How-some-ever, dere was some few slave chillun +what had beds to sleep on. Pillows! Dem days us never knowed what +pillows was. Gals slept on one side of de room and boys on de other in +de chilluns room. Uncle Jim, he was de bed-maker, and he made up a heap +of little beds lak what dey calls cots now.</p> + +<p>"Becky and Stafford Stephens was my Grandma and Grandpa. Marse Alec +bought 'em in Old Virginny. I don't know what my Grandma done 'cause she +died 'fore I was borned, but I 'members Grandpa Stafford well enough. I +can see him now. He was a old man what slept on a trundle bed in the +kitchen, and all he done was to set by de fire all day wid a switch in +his hand and tend de chillun whilst dere mammies was at wuk. Chillun +minded better dem days dan dey does now. Grandpa Stafford never had to +holler at 'em but one time. Dey knowed dey would git de switch next if +dey didn't behave.</p> + +<p>"Now dere you is axin' 'bout dat somepin' t'eat us had dem days! Ida, +ain't dere a piece of watermelon in de ice box?" Georgia lifted the lid +of a small ice box, got out a piece of melon, and began to smack her +thick lips as she devoured it with an air of ineffable satisfaction. +When she had tilted the rind to swallow the last drop of pink juice, she +indicated that she was fortified and ready to exercise her now well +lubricated throat, by resuming her story:</p> + +<p>"Oh, yessum! Marse Alec, had plenty for his slaves to eat. Dere was +meat, bread, collard greens, snap beans, 'taters, peas, all sorts of +dried fruit, and just lots of milk and butter. Marse Alec had 12 cows +and dat's whar I learned to love milk so good. De same Uncle Jim what +made our beds made our wooden bowls what dey kept filled wid bread and +milk for de chillun all day. You might want to call dat place whar Marse +Alec had our veg'tables raised a gyarden, but it looked more lak a big +field to me, it was so big. You jus' ought to have seed dat dere +fireplace whar dey cooked all us had to eat. It was one sho 'nough big +somepin, all full of pots, skillets, and ovens. Dey warn't never 'lowed +to git full of smut neither. Dey had to be cleant and shined up atter +evvy meal, and dey sho was pretty hangin' dar in dat big old fireplace.</p> + +<p>"George and Mack was de hunters. When dey went huntin' dey brought back +jus' evvything: possums, rabbits, coons, squirrels, birds, and wild +turkeys. Yessum, wild turkeys is some sort of birds I reckon, but when +us talked about birds to eat us meant part'idges. Some folkses calls 'em +quails. De fishes us had in summertime was a sight to see. Us sho et +good dem days. Now us jus' eats what-some-ever us can git.</p> + +<p>"Summertime us jus' wore what us wanted to. Dresses was made wid full +skirts gathered on to tight fittin' waisties. Winter clothes was good +and warm; dresses made of yarn cloth made up jus' lak dem summertime +clothes, and petticoats and draw's made out of osnaburg. Chillun what +was big enough done de spinnin' and Aunt Betsey and Aunt Tinny, dey wove +most evvy night 'til dey rung de bell at 10:00 o'clock for us to go to +bed. Us made bolts and bolts of cloth evvy year.</p> + +<p>"Us went bar'foots in summer, but bless your sweet life us had good +shoes in winter and wore good stockin's too. It tuk three shoemakers for +our plantation. Dey was Uncle Isom, Uncle Jim, and Uncle Stafford. Dey +made up hole-stock shoes for de 'omans and gals and brass-toed brogans +for de mens and boys.</p> + +<p>"Us had pretty white dresses for Sunday. Marse Alec wanted evvybody on +his place dressed up dat day. He sont his houseboy, Uncle Harris, down +to de cabins evvy Sunday mornin' to tell evvy slave to clean hisself up. +Dey warn't never give no chance to forgit. Dere was a big old room sot +aside for a wash-room. Folkses laughs at me now 'cause I ain't never +stopped takin' a bath evvy Sunday mornin'.</p> + +<p>"Marse Lordnorth Stephens was de boss on Marse Alec's plantation. Course +Marse Alec owned us and he was our sho 'nough Marster. Neither one of +'em ever married. Marse Lordnorth was a good man, but he didn't have no +use for 'omans—he was a sissy. Dere warn't no Marster no whar no better +dan our Marse Alec Stephens, but he never stayed home enough to tend to +things hisself much 'cause he was all de time too busy on de outside. He +was de President or somepin of our side durin' de war.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Pierce went wid Marse Alec evvy whar he went. His dog, Rio, had +more sense dan most folkses. Marse Alec, he was all de time havin' big +mens visit him up at de big house. One time, out in de yard, him and one +of dem 'portant mens got in a argyment 'bout somepin. Us chillun snuck +up close to hear what dey was makin' such a rukus 'bout. I heared Marse +Alec say: 'I got more sense in my big toe dan you is got in your whole +body.' And he was right—he did have more sense dan most folkses. Ain't +I been a-tellin' you he was de President or somepin lak dat, dem days?</p> + +<p>"Ma, she was Marse Alec's cook and looked atter de house. Atter she died +Marse Lordnorth got Mrs. Mary Berry from Habersham County to keep house +at de big house, but Aunt 'Liza, she done de cookin' atter Miss Mary got +dar. Us little Niggers sho' did love Miss Mary. Us called her "Mammy +Mary" sometimes. Miss Mary had three sons and one of 'em was named Jeff +Davis. I 'members when dey come and got him and tuk him off to war. +Marse Lordnorth built a four-room house on de plantation for Miss Mary +and her boys. Evvybody loved our Miss Mary, 'cause she was so good and +sweet, and dere warn't nothin' us wouldn't have done for her.</p> + +<p>"No Lord! Marse Lordnorth never needed no overseer or no carriage driver +neither. Uncle Jim was de head man wat got de Niggers up evvy mornin' +and started 'em off to wuk right. De big house sho was a pretty place, +a-settin' up on a high hill. De squirrels was so tame dar dey jus' +played all 'round de yard. Marse Alec's dog is buried in dat yard.</p> + +<p>"No Mam, I never knowed how many acres dere was in de plantation us +lived on, and Marse Alec had other places too. He had land scattered +evvywhar. Lord, dere was a heap of Niggers on dat place, and all of us +was kin to one another. Grandma Becky and Grandpa Stafford was de fust +slaves Marse Alec ever had, and dey sho had a passel of chillun. One +thing sho Marse Lordnorth wouldn't keep no bright colored Nigger on dat +plantation if he could help it. Aunt Mary was a bright colored Nigger +and dey said dat Marse John, Marse Lordnorth's brother, was her Pa, but +anyhow Marse Lordnorth never had no use for her 'cause she was a bright +colored Nigger.</p> + +<p>"Marse Lordnorth never had no certain early time for his slaves to git +up nor no special late time for 'em to quit wuk. De hours dey wuked was +'cordin' to how much wuk was ahead to be done. Folks in Crawfordville +called us 'Stephens' Free Niggers.'</p> + +<p>"Us minded Marse Lordnorth—us had to do dat—but he let us do pretty +much as us pleased. Us never had no sorry piece of a Marster. He was a +good man and he made a sho 'nough good Marster. I never seed no Nigger +git a beatin', and what's more I never heared of nothin' lak dat on our +place. Dere was a jail in Crawfordville, but none of us Niggers on Marse +Alec's place warn't never put in it.</p> + +<p>"No Lord! None of us Niggers never knowed nothin' 'bout readin' and +writin'. Dere warn't no school for Niggers den, and I ain't never been +to school a day in my life. Niggers was more skeered of newspapers dan +dey is of snakes now, and us never knowed what a Bible was dem days.</p> + +<p>"Niggers never had no churches of deir own den. Dey went to de white +folkses' churches and sot in de gallery. One Sunday when me and my +sister Frances went to church I found 50¢ in Confederate money and +showed it to her. She tuk it away from me. Dat's de onliest money I seed +durin' slavery time. Course you knows dey throwed Confederate money away +for trash atter de war was over. Den us young chaps used to play wid it.</p> + +<p>"I never went to no baptizin's nor no funerals neither den. Funerals +warn't de style. When a Nigger died dem days, dey jus' put his body in a +box and buried it. I 'members very well when Aunt Sallie and Aunt +Catherine died, but I was little den, and I didn't take it in what dey +done bout buryin' 'em.</p> + +<p>"None of Marse Alec's slaves never run away to de North, 'cause he was +so good to 'em dey never wanted to leave him. De onliest Nigger what +left Marse Alec's place was Uncle Dave, and he wouldn't have left 'cept +he got in trouble wid a white 'oman. You needn't ax me her name 'cause I +ain't gwine to tell it, but I knows it well as I does my own name. +Anyhow Marse Alec give Uncle Dave some money and told him to leave, and +nobody never seed him no more atter dat.</p> + +<p>"Oh yessum! Us heared 'bout 'em, but none of us never seed no +patterollers on Marse Alec's plantation. He never 'lowed 'em on his +land, and he let 'em know dat he kept his slaves supplied wid passes +whenever dey wanted to go places so as dey could come and go when dey +got good and ready. Thursday and Sadday nights was de main nights dey +went off. Uncle Stafford's wife was Miss Mary Stephen's cook, Uncle +Jim's wife lived on de Finley place, and Uncle Isom's belonged to de +Hollises, so dey had regular passes all de time and no patterollers +never bothered 'em none.</p> + +<p>"Whenever Marse Alec or Marse Lordnorth wanted to send a message dey +jus' put George or Mack on a horse and sont 'em on but one thing sho, +dere warn't no slave knowed what was in dem letters.</p> + +<p>"Marse Alec sho had plenty of mules. Some of 'em was named: Pete, Clay, +Rollin, Jack, and Sal. Sal was Allen's slow mule, and he set a heap of +store by her. Dere was a heap more mules on dat place, but I can't call +back dere names right now.</p> + +<p>"Most times when slaves went to deir quarters at night, mens rested, but +sometimes dey holped de 'omans cyard de cotton and wool. Young folkses +frolicked, sung songs, and visited from cabin to cabin. When dey got +behind wid de field wuk, sometimes slaves wuked atter dinner Saddays, +but dat warn't often. But, Oh, dem Sadday nights! Dat was when slaves +got together and danced. George, he blowed de quills, and he sho could +blow grand dance music on 'em. Dem Niggers would jus' dance down. Dere +warn't no foolishment 'lowed atter 10:00 o'clock no night. Sundays dey +went to church and visited 'round, but folks didn't spend as much time +gaddin' 'bout lak dey does now days.</p> + +<p>"Christmas Day! Oh, what a time us Niggers did have dat day! Marse +Lordnorth and Marse Alec give us evvything you could name to eat: cake +of all kinds, fresh meat, lightbread, turkeys, chickens, ducks, geese, +and all kinds of wild game. Dere was allus plenty of pecans, apples, and +dried peaches too at Christmas. Marse Alec had some trees what had fruit +dat looked lak bananas on 'em, but I done forgot what was de name of dem +trees. Marse Alec would call de grown folkses to de big house early in +de mornin' and pass 'round a big pewter pitcher full of whiskey, den he +would put a little whiskey in dat same pitcher and fill it wid sweetened +water and give dat to us chillun. Us called dat 'toddy' or 'dram'. Marse +Alex allus had plenty of good whiskey, 'cause Uncle Willis made it up +for him and it was made jus' right. De night atter Christmas Day us +pulled syrup candy, drunk more liquor, and danced. Us had a big time for +a whole week and den on New Year's Day us done a little wuk jus' to +start de year right and us feasted dat day on fresh meat, plenty of +cake, and whiskey. Dere was allus a big pile of ash-roasted 'taters on +hand to go wid dat good old baked meat. Us allus tried to raise enough +'taters to last all through de winter 'cause Niggers sho does love dem +sweet 'taters. No Mam, us never knowed nothin' 'bout Santa Claus 'til +atter de war.</p> + +<p>"No Mam, dere warn't no special cornshuckin's and cotton pickin's on +Marse Alec's place, but of course dey did quilt in de winter 'cause dere +had to be lots of quiltin' done for all dem slaves to have plenty of +warm kivver, and you knows, Lady, 'omens can quilt better if dey gits a +passel of 'em together to do it. Marse Alec and Marse Lordnorth never +'lowed dere slaves to mix up wid other folkses business much.</p> + +<p>"Oh Lord! Us never played no games in slavery times, 'cept jus' to run +around in a ring and pat our hands. I never sung no songs 'cause I +warn't no singer, and don't talk 'bout no Raw Head and Bloody Bones or +nothin' lak dat. Dey used to skeer us chillun so bad 'bout dem sort of +things dat us used to lay in bed at night a-shakin' lak us was havin' +chills. I've seed plenty of ha'nts right here in Athens. Not long atter +I had left Crawfordville and moved to Athens, I had been in bed jus' a +little while one night, and was jus' dozin' off to sleep when I woke up +and sot right spang up in bed. I seed a white man, dressed in white, +standin' before me. I sho didn't say nothin' to him for I was too +skeered. De very last time I went to a dance, somepin got atter me and +skeered me so my hair riz up 'til I couldn't git my hat on my haid, and +dat cyored me of gwine to dances. I ain't never been to no more sich +doin's.</p> + +<p>"Old Marster was powerful good to his Niggers when dey got sick. He had +'em seed atter soon as it was 'ported to him dat dey was ailin'. Yessum, +dere warn't nothin' short 'bout our good Marsters, 'deed dere warn't! +Grandpa Stafford had a sore laig and Marse Lordnorth looked atter him +and had Uncle Jim dress dat pore old sore laig evvy day. Slaves didn't +git sick as often as Niggers does now days. Mammy Mary had all sorts of +teas made up for us, 'cordin' to whatever ailment us had. Boneset tea +was for colds. De fust thing dey allus done for sore throat was give us +tea made of red oak bark wid alum. Scurvy grass tea cleant us out in the +springtime, and dey made us wear little sacks of assfiddy (asafetida) +'round our necks to keep off lots of sorts of miseries. Some folkses +hung de left hind foot of a mole on a string 'round deir babies necks to +make 'em teethe easier. I never done nothin' lak dat to my babies 'cause +I never believed in no such foolishment. Some babies is jus' natchelly +gwine to teethe easier dan others anyhow.</p> + +<p>"I 'members jus' as good as if it was yesterday what Mammy Mary said +when she told us de fust news of freedom. 'You all is free now,' she +said. 'You don't none of you belong to Mister Lordnorth nor Mister Alec +no more, but I does hope you will all stay on wid 'em, 'cause dey will +allus be jus' as good to you as dey has done been in de past.' Me, I +warn't even studyin' nothin' 'bout leavin' Marse Alec, but Sarah Ann and +Aunt Mary, dey threwed down deir hoes and jus' whooped and hollered +'cause dey was so glad. When dem Yankees come to our place Mammy Mary +axed 'em if dey warn't tired of war. 'What does you know 'bout no war?' +Dey axed her right back. 'No, us won't never git tired of doin' good.'</p> + +<p>"I stayed on wid my two good Marsters 'til most 3 years atter de war, +and den went to wuk for Marse Tye Elder in Crawfordville. Atter dat I +wuked for Miss Puss King, and when she left Crawfordville I come on here +to Athens and wuked for Miss Tildy Upson on Prince Avenue. Den I went to +Atlanta to wuk for Miss Ruth Evage (probably Elliott). Miss Ruth was a +niece of Abraham Lincoln's. Her father was President Lincoln's brother +and he was a Methodist preacher what lived in Mailpack, New York. I went +evvywhar wid Miss Ruth. When me and Miss Ruth was in Philadelphia, I got +sick and she sont me home to Athens and I done been here wid my daughter +ever since.</p> + +<p>"Lawdy, Miss! I ain't never been married, but I did live wid Major Baker +18 years and us had five chillun. Dey is all daid but two. Niggers +didn't pay so much 'tention to gittin' married dem days as dey does now. +I stays here wid my gal, Ida Baker. My son lives in Cleveland, Ohio. My +fust child was borned when I warn't but 14 years old. De war ended in +April and she was borned in November of dat year. Now, Miss! I ain't +never told but one white 'oman who her Pa was, so you needn't start +axin' me nothin' 'bout dat. She had done been walkin' evvywhar 'fore she +died when she was jus' 10 months old and I'm a-tellin' you de truth +when I say she had more sense dan a heap of white chillun has when dey +is lots older dan she was. Whilst I was off in New York wid Miss Ruth, +Major, he up and got married. I reckon he's daid by now. I don't keer +nohow, atter de way he done me. I made a good livin' for Major 'til he +married again. I seed de 'oman he married once.</p> + +<p>"Yes Mam," there was strong emphasis in this reply. "I sho would ruther +have slavery days back if I could have my same good Marsters 'cause I +never had no hard times den lak I went through atter dey give us +freedom. I ain't never got over not bein' able to see Marse Alec no +more. I was livin' at Marse Tye Elder's when de gate fell on Marse Alec, +and he was crippled and lamed up from dat time on 'til he died. He got +to be Governor of Georgia whilst he was crippled. When he got hurt by +dat gate, smallpox was evvywhar and dey wouldn't let me go to see 'bout +him. Dat most killed me 'cause I did want to go see if dere was somepin' +I could do for him.</p> + +<p>"Lordy Mussy, Miss! I had a time jinin' up wid de church. I was in +Mailpack, New York, wid Miss Ruth when I had de urge to jine up. I told +Miss Ruth 'bout it and she said: 'Dere ain't no Baptist church in 10 +miles of here.' 'Lord, have mussy!' I said. 'Miss Ruth, what I gwine do? +Dese is all Methodist churches up here and I jus' can't jine up wid no +Methodists.' 'Yes you can,' she snapped at me, 'cause my own Pa's +a-holdin a 'vival in dis very town and de Methodist church is de best +anyhow.' Well, I went on and jined de Reverend Lincoln's Methodist +church, but I never felt right 'bout it. Den us went to Philadelphia and +soon as I could find a Baptist church dar, I jined up wid it. Northern +churches ain't lak our southern churches 'cause de black and white +folkses all belong to de same church dar and goes to church together. On +dat account I still didn't feel lak I had jined de church. Bless your +sweet life, Honey, when I come back to de South, I was quick as I could +be to jine up wid a good old southern Baptist church. I sho didn't mean +to live outdoors, 'specially atter I dies." Georgia's eyes sparkled and +her flow of speech was smooth as she told of her religious experiences. +When that subject was exhausted her eyes dimmed again and her speech +became less articulate.</p> + +<p>Georgia's reeking pipe had been laid aside for the watermelon and not +long after that was consumed the restless black fingers sought +occupation sewing gay pieces for a quilt. "Miss, I warn't born to be +lazy, I warn't raised dat way, and I sho ain't skeered to die.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Honey," said Georgia, as the interviewer arose and made her +way toward the street. "Hurry back and don't forgit to fetch me dat +purty pink dress you is a-wearin'. I don't lak white dresses and I ain't +never gwine to wear a black one nohow."</p> +<br> + +<p><b>[TR: Return Visit]</b></p> + +<p>Georgia was on the back porch washing her face and hands and quarrelling +with Ida for not having her breakfast ready at nine-thirty when the +interviewer arrived for a re-visit.</p> + +<p>"Come in," Georgia invited, "and have a cheer. But, Miss I done told you +all I knows 'bout Marse Alec and dem deys when I lived on his +plantation. You know chillun den warn't 'lowed to hang 'round de grown +folks whar dey could hear things what was talked about."</p> + +<p>About this time Ida came down from a second-floor kitchen with her +mother's breakfast. She was grumbling a little louder on each step of +the rickety stairway. "Lord, have mussy! Ma is still a-talkin' 'bout dat +old slavery stuff, and it ain't nothin' nohow." After Ida's eyes had +rested on the yellow crepe frock just presented Georgia in appreciation +of the three hours she had given for the first interview, she became +reconciled for the story to be resumed, and even offered her assistance +in rousing the recollections of her parent.</p> + +<p>"Did I tell you" Georgia began, "dat de man what looked atter Marse +Alec's business was his fust cousin? He was de Marse Lordnorth I'se all +time talkin' 'bout, and Marse John was Marse Lordnorth's brother. Dere +warn't no cook or house gal up at de big house but Ma 'til atter she +died, and den when Miss Mary Berry tuk charge of de house dey made +Uncle Harry and his wife, Aunt 'Liza, house boy and cook.</p> + +<p>"Marse Alec growed all his corn on his Googer Crick plantation. He +planned for evvything us needed and dere warn't but mighty little dat he +didn't have raised to take keer of our needs. Lordy, didn't I tell you +what sort of shoes, holestock shoes is? Dem was de shoes de 'omans wore +and dey had extra pieces on de sides so us wouldn't knock holes in 'em +too quick.</p> + +<p>"De fust time I ever seed Marse Alec to know who he was, I warn't more'n +6 years old. Uncle Stafford had went fishin' and cotched de nicest mess +of fish you ever seed. He cleant 'em and put 'em in a pan of water, and +told me to take 'em up to de big house to Marse Alec. I was skeered when +I went in de big house yard and axed, what looked lak a little boy, whar +Marse Alec was, and I was wuss skeered when he said: 'Dis is Marse Alec +you is talkin' to. What you want?' I tole him Uncle Stafford sont him de +fishes and he told me: 'Take 'em to de kitchen and tell 'Liza to cook +'em for me.' I sho ain't never gwine to forgit dat.</p> + +<p>"One day dey sont me wid a bucket of water to de field, and I had to go +through de peach orchard. I et so many peaches, I was 'most daid when I +got back to de house. Dey had to drench me down wid sweet milk, and from +dat day to dis I ain't never laked peaches. From den on Marse Alec +called me de 'peach gal.'</p> + +<p>"Marse Alec warn't home much of de time, but when he was dar he used to +walk down to de cabins and laugh and talk to his Niggers. He used to +sing a song for de slave chillun dat run somepin lak dis:</p> + +<pre> +'Walk light ladies + De cake's all dough, + You needn't mind de weather, + If de wind don't blow.'" +</pre> + +<p>Georgia giggled when she came to the end of the stanza. "Us didn't know +when he was a-singin' dat tune to us chillun dat when us growed up us +would be cake walkin' to de same song.</p> + +<p>"On Sundays, whenever Marse Alec was home, he done lots of readin' out +of a great big old book. I didn't know what it was, but he was pow'ful +busy wid it. He never had no parties or dancin' dat I knows 'bout, but +he was all time havin' dem big 'portant mens at his house talkin' 'bout +de business what tuk him off from home so much. I used to see Lawyer +Coombs dere heaps of times. He was a big, fine lookin' man. Another big +lawyer was all time comin' dar too, but I done lost his name. Marse Alec +had so awful much sense in his haid dat folkses said it stunted his +growin'. Anyhow, long as he lived he warn't no bigger dan a boy.</p> + +<p>"When Uncle Harry's and Aunt 'Liza's daughter what was named 'Liza, got +married he was in Washin'ton or some place lak dat. He writ word to +Marse Linton, his half-brother, to pervide a weddin' for her. I knows +'bout dat 'cause I et some of dat barbecue. Dat's all I 'members 'bout +her weddin'. I done forgot de name of de bridegroom. He lived on some +other plantation. Aunt 'Liza had two gals and one boy. He was named +Allen.</p> + +<p>"Whilst Marse Alec was President or somepin, he got sick and had to come +back home, and it wern't long atter dat 'fore de surrender. Allen was +'pinted to watch for de blue coats. When dey come to take Marse Alec +off, dey was all over the place wid deir guns. Us Niggers hollered and +cried and tuk on pow'ful 'cause us sho thought dey was gwine to kill him +on account of his bein' such a high up man on de side what dey was +fightin'. All de Niggers followed 'em to de depot when dey tuk Marse +Alec and Uncle Pierce away. Dey kept Marse Alec in prison off somewhar a +long time but dey sont Pierce back home 'fore long.</p> + +<p>"I seed Jeff Davis when dey brung him through Crawfordville on de train. +Dey had him all fastened up wid chains. Dey told me dat a Nigger 'oman +put pizen in Jeff Davis' somepin t'eat and dat was what kilt him. One +thing sho, our Marse Alec warn't pizened by nobody. He was comin' from +de field one day when a big old heavy gate fell down on him, and even if +he did live a long time atterwards dat was what was de cause of his +death.</p> + +<p>"I seed Uncle Pierce 'fore he died and us sot and talked and cried 'bout +Marse Alec. Yessum, us sho did have de best Marster in de world. If +ever a man went to Heaven, Marse Alec did. I sho does wish our good old +Marster was livin' now. Now, Miss, I done told you all I can ricollec' +'bout dem days. I thanks you a lot for dat purty yaller dress, and I +hopes you comes back to see me again sometime."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BattleAlice"></a> +<h3>ALICE BATTLE, EX-SLAVE<br> +Hawkinsville, Georgia<br> +<br> +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson—1936)<br> +[JUL 20, 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>During the 1840's, Emanuel Caldwell—born in North Carolina, and Neal +Anne Caldwell—born in South Carolina, were brought to Macon by +"speculators" and sold to Mr. Ed Marshal of Bibb County. Some time +thereafter, this couple married on Mr. Marshal's plantation, and their +second child, born about 1850, was Alice Battle. From her birth until +freedom, Alice was a chattel of this Mr. Marshal, whom she refers to as +a humane man, though inclined to use the whip when occasion demanded.</p> + +<p>Followed to its conclusion, Alice's life history is void of thrills and +simply an average ex-slave's story. As a slave, she was well fed, well +clothed, and well treated, as were her brother and sister slaves. Her +mother was a weaver, her father—a field hand, and she did both +housework and plantation labor.</p> + +<p>Alice saw the Yankee pass her ex-master's home with their famous +prisoner, Jeff Davis, after his capture, in '65. The Yankee band, says +she, was playing "We'll hang Jeff Davis on a Sour Apple Tree". Some of +the soldiers "took time out" to rob the Marshal smokehouse. The Whites +and Negroes were all badly frightened, but the "damyankees didn't harm +nobody".</p> + +<p>After freedom, Alice remained with the Marshals until Christmas, when +she moved away. Later, she and her family moved back to the Marshal +plantation for a few years. A few years still later, Alice married a +Battle "Nigger".</p> + +<p>Since the early '70's, Alice has "drifted around" quite a bit. She and +her husband are now too old and feeble to work. They live with one of +their sons, and are objects of charity.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BattleJasper"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +JASPER BATTLE, Age 80<br> +112 Berry St.,<br> +Athens, Ga.<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Grace McCune [HW: (White)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7</h3> +<br> + +<p>The shade of the large water oaks in Jasper's yard was a welcome sight +when the interviewer completed the long walk to the old Negro's place in +the sweltering heat of a sunny July afternoon. The old house appeared to +be in good condition and the yard was clean and tidy. Jasper's wife, +Lula, came around the side of the house in answer to the call for +Jasper. A large checked apron almost covered her blue dress and a clean +white headcloth concealed her hair. Despite her advanced age, she seemed +to be quite spry.</p> + +<p>"Jus' come back here whar I'se a-doin' de white folks' washin'," she +said. "Jasper's done been powerful sick and I can't leave him by hisself +none. I brung him out here in de shade so I could watch him and 'tend to +him whilst I wuks. Jasper stepped on a old plank what had two rusty +nails in it, and both of 'em went up in his foot a fur ways. I done driv +dem nails plumb up to dey haids in de north side of a tree and put +jimpson weed poultices on Jasper's foot, but it's still powerful bad +off."</p> + +<p>By this time we had arrived within sight and earshot of the old rocking +chair where Jasper sat with his foot propped high in another chair. His +chair had long ago been deprived of its rockers. The injured member +appeared to be swollen and was covered with several layers of the +jimpson weed leaves. The old man's thin form was clothed in a faded blue +shirt and old gray cotton trousers. His clothes were clean and his +white hair was in marked contrast to his shining but wrinkled black +face. He smiled when Lula explained the nature of the proposed +interview. "'Scuse me, Missy," he apologized, "for not gittin' up, +'cause I jus' can't use dis old foot much, but you jus' have a seat here +in de shade and rest yourself." Lula now excused herself, saying: "I +jus' got to hurry and git de white folks' clothes washed and dried 'fore +it rains," and she resumed her work in the shade of another huge tree +where a fire was burning brightly under her washpot and a row of +sud-filled tubs occupied a long bench.</p> + +<p>"Lula, she has to wuk all de time," Jasper explained, "and she don't +never have time to listen to me talk. I'se powerful glad somebody is +willin' to stop long enough to pay some heed whilst I talks 'bout +somepin. Dem days 'fore de war was good old days, 'specially for de +colored folks. I know, 'cause my Mammy done told me so. You see I was +mighty little and young when de war was over, but I heared de old folks +do lots of talkin' 'bout dem times whilst I was a-growin' up, and den +too, I stayed right dar on dat same place 'til I was 'bout grown. It was +Marse Henry Jones' plantation 'way off down in Taliaferro County, nigh +Crawfordville, Georgy. Mammy b'longed to Marse Henry. She was Harriet +Jones. Daddy was Simon Battle and his owner was Marse Billie Battle. De +Battle's plantation was off down dar nigh de Jones' place. When my Mammy +and Daddy got married Marse Henry wouldn't sell Mammy, and Marse Billie +wouldn't sell Daddy, so dey didn't git to see one another but twice a +week—dat was on Wednesday and Sadday nights—'til atter de war was done +over. I kin still 'member Daddy comin' over to Marse Henry's plantation +to see us.</p> + +<p>"Marse Henry kept a lot of slaves to wuk his big old plantation whar he +growed jus' evvything us needed to eat and wear 'cept sugar and coffee +and de brass toes for our home-made, brogan shoes. Dere allus was +a-plenty t'eat and wear on dat place.</p> + +<p>"Slave quarters was log cabins built in long rows. Some had chimblies in +de middle, twixt two rooms, but de most of 'em was jus' one-room cabins +wid a stick and mud chimbly at de end. Dem chimblies was awful bad 'bout +ketchin' on fire. Didn't nobody have no glass windows. Dey jus' had +plain plank shutters for blinds and de doors was made de same way, out +of rough planks. All de beds was home-made and de best of 'em was +corded. Dey made holes in de sides and foots and haidpieces, and run +heavy home-made cords in dem holes. Dey wove 'em crossways in and out of +dem holes from one side to another 'til dey had 'em ready to lay de +mattress mat on. I'se helped to pull dem cords tight many a time. Our +mattress ticks was made of homespun cloth and was stuffed wid wheat +straw. 'Fore de mattress tick was put on de bed a stiff mat wove out of +white oak splits was laid on top of de cords to pertect de mattress and +make it lay smooth. Us was 'lowed to pick up all de old dirty cotton +'round de place to make our pillows out of.</p> + +<p>"Jus' a few of de slave famblies was 'lowed to do deir own cookin' +'cause Marster kept cooks up at de big house what never had nothin' else +to do but cook for de white folks and slaves. De big old fireplace in +dat kitchen at de big house was more dan eight feet wide and you could +pile whole sticks of cord-wood on it. It had racks acrost to hang de +pots on and big ovens and little ovens and big, thick, iron fryin' pans +wid long handles and hefty iron lids. Dey could cook for a hunderd +people at one time in dat big old kitchen easy. At one time dere was +tables acrost one end of de kitchen for de slaves t'eat at, and de slave +chillun et dar too.</p> + +<p>"Marster was mighty good to slave chillun. He never sont us out to wuk +in de fields 'til us was 'most growed-up, say 12 or 14 years old. A +Nigger 12 or 14 years old dem days was big as a white child 17 or 18 +years old. Why Miss, Niggers growed so fast, dat most of de Nigger +nurses warn't no older dan de white chillun dey tuk keer of. Marster +said he warn't gwine to send no babies to de fields. When slave chillun +got to be 'bout 9 or 10 years old dey started 'em to fetchin' in wood +and water, cleanin' de yards, and drivin' up de cows at night. De +bigges' boys was 'lowed to measure out and fix de stock feed, but de +most of us chillun jus' played in de cricks and woods all de time. +Sometimes us played Injuns and made so much fuss dat old Aunt Nancy +would come out to de woods to see what was wrong, and den when she found +us was jus' a-havin' fun, she stropped us good for skeerin' her.</p> + +<p>"Mammy's job was to make all de cloth. Dat was what she done all de +time; jus' wove cloth. Some of de others cyarded de bats and spun +thread, but Mammy, she jus' wove on so reg'lar dat she made enough cloth +for clothes for all dem slaves on de plantation and, it's a fact, us did +have plenty of clothes. All de nigger babies wore dresses made jus' alak +for boys and gals. I was sho'ly mighty glad when dey 'lowed me to git +rid of dem dresses and wear shirts. I was 'bout 5 years old den, but dat +boys' shirt made me feel powerful mannish. Slave gals wore homespun +cotton dresses, and dey had plenty of dem dresses, so as dey could keep +nice and clean all de time. Dey knitted all de socks and stockin's for +winter. Dem gals wore shawls, and dere poke bonnets had ruffles 'round +'em. All de shoes was home-made too. Marster kept one man on de +plantation what didn't do nothin' but make shoes. Lordy, Missy! What +would gals say now if dey had to wear dem kind of clothes? Dey would +raise de roof plumb offen de house. But jus' let me tell you, a purty +young gal dressed in dem sort of clothes would look mighty sweet to me +right now.</p> + +<p>"Us never could eat all de meat in Marster's big old smokehouse. +Sometimes he tuk hams to de store and traded 'em for sugar and coffee. +Plenty of 'bacco was raised on dat plantation for all de white folks and +de growed-up Niggers. Slave chillun warn't sposen to have none, so us +had to swipe what 'bacco us got. If our Mammies found out 'bout us +gittin' 'bacco, dey stropped us 'til de skin was most off our backs, but +sometimes us got away wid a little. If us seed any of de old folks was +watchin' us, us slipped de 'bacco from one to another of us whilst dey +s'arched us, and it went mighty bad on us if dey found it.</p> + +<p>"Slaves went to de white folks' church and listened to de white +preachers. Dere warn't no colored preacher 'lowed to preach in dem +churches den. Dey preached to de white folks fust and den dey let de +colored folks come inside and hear some preachin' atter dey was through +wid de white folks. But on de big 'vival meetin' days dey 'lowed de +Niggers to come in and set in de gallery and listen at de same time dey +preached to de white folks. When de sermon was over dey had a big dinner +spread out on de grounds and dey had jus' evvything good t'eat lak +chickens, barbecued hogs and lambs, pies, and lots of watermelons. Us +kept de watermelons in de crick 'til dey was ready to cut 'em. A white +gentleman, what dey called Mr. Kilpatrick, done most of de preachin'. He +was from de White Plains neighborhood. He sho' did try mighty hard to +git evvybody to 'bey de Good Lord and keep his commandments.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Kilpatrick preached all de funerals too. It 'pears lak a heap more +folks is a-dyin' out dese days dan died den, and folks was a heap better +den to folks in trouble. Dey would go miles and miles den when dey +didn't have no auto'biles, to help folks what was in trouble. Now, dey +won't go next door when dere's death in de house. Den, when anybody died +de fust thing dey done was to shroud 'em and lay 'em out on de coolin' +board 'til Old Marster's cyarpenter could git de coffin made up. Dere +warn't no embalmers dem days and us had to bury folks de next day atter +dey died. De coffins was jus' de same for white folks and deir slaves. +On evvy plantation dere was a piece of ground fenced in for a graveyard +whar dey buried white folks and slaves too. My old Daddy is buried down +yonder on Marse Henry's plantation right now.</p> + +<p>"When a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal, he didn't ax de gal, +but he went and told Marster 'bout it. Marster would talk to de gal and +if she was willin', den Marster would tell all de other Niggers us was +a-goin' to have a weddin'. Dey would all come up to de big house and +Marster would tell de couple to jine hands and jump backwards over a +broomstick, and den he pernounced 'em man and wife. Dey didn't have to +have no licenses or nothin' lak dey does now. If a man married up wid +somebody on another place, he had to git a pass from his Marster, so as +he could go see his wife evvy Wednesday and Sadday nights. When de +patterollers cotched slaves out widout no passes, dey evermore did beat +'em up. Leastways dat's what Mammy told me.</p> + +<p>"Durin' de big war all de white folkses was off a-fightin' 'cept dem +what was too old to fight or what was too bad crippled and 'flicted. Dey +stayed home and looked atter de 'omans and chillun. Somebody sont +Mist'ess word dat dem yankees was on de way to our plantation and she +hid evvything she could, den had de hogs and hosses driv off to de +swamps and hid. Mammy was crazy 'bout a pet pig what Marster had done +give her, so Mist'ess told her to go on down to dat swamp quick, and +hide dat little pig. Jus' as she was a-runnin' back in de yard, dem +yankees rid in and she seed 'em a-laughin' fit to kill. She looked +'round to see what dey was tickled 'bout and dere followin' her lak a +baby was dat pig. Dem yankees was perlite lak, and dey never bothered +nothin' on our place, but dey jus' plumb ruint evvything on some of de +plantations right close to our'n. Dey tuk nigh evvything some of our +neighbors had t'eat, most all deir good hosses, and anything else dey +wanted. Us never did know why dey never bothered our white folkses' +things.</p> + +<p>"When dey give us our freedom us went right on over to Marse Billie +Battle's place and stayed dar wid Daddy 'bout a year; den Daddy come wid +us back to Marse Henry's, and dar us stayed 'til Old Marster died. Long +as he lived atter de war, he wukked most of his help on sheers, and seed +dat us was tuk keer of jus' lak he had done when us all b'longed to him. +Us never went to school much 'cause Mammy said white folks didn't lak +for Niggers to have no larnin', but atter de war was done over our Old +Mist'ess let colored chillun have some lessons in a little cabin what +was built in de back yard for de white chillun to go to school in.</p> + +<p>"Atter dey buried our Old Marster, us moved down to Hancock County and +farmed dar, 'cause dat was all us knowed how to do. Us got together and +raised money to buy ground enough for a churchyard and a graveyard for +colored folks. Dat graveyard filled up so fast dat dey had to buy more +land several times. Us holped 'em build de fust colored church in +Hancock County.</p> + +<p>"School for colored chillun was held den in our church house. Our +teacher was a white man, Mr. Tom Andrews, and he was a mighty good +teacher, but Lordy, how strick he was! Dese here chillun don't know +nothin' 'bout school. Us went early in de mornin', tuk our dinner in a +bucket, and never left 'til four o'clock, and sometimes dat was 'most +nigh sundown. All day us studied dat blue back speller, and dat white +teacher of ours sho' tuk de skin offen our backs if us didn't mind him. +Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' and foolin' 'round on de way home, +'cause dat white teacher 'lowed he had control of us 'til us got to our +Mammies' doors and if us didn't git for home in a hurry, it was jus' too +bad for us when he tuk it out on us next day wid dat long hick'ry +switch.</p> + +<p>"Things is sho' diffunt now. Folks ain't good now as dey was den, but +dere is gwine to be a change. I may not be here to see it, but it's +a-comin' 'cause de Good Lord is done 'sied (prophesied) it, and it's got +to be. God's sayin' is comin' to pass jus' as sho' as us is livin' and +settin' in de shade of dis here tree.</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Miss! How come you axes 'bout colored folks'es weddin's? I was +a-courtin' a little 14-year old gal named Lovie Williams, but her Mammy +runned me off and said she warn't gwine to let Lovie git married up wid +nobody 'til she got big enough. I jus' bought dem licenses and watched +for my chanct and den I stole dat gal right from under her Mammy's eyes. +My Mammy knowed all 'bout it and holped us git away. Us didn't have no +time for no weddin'. De best us could do was jus' to git ourselfs +married up. Lovie's Mammy raised de Old Ned, but us didn't keer den, +'cause it was too late for her to do nothin' to part us. Lovie was one +of the bestest gals what ever lived. Us raised 12 chillun and I never +had one speck of trouble wid her. Lovie's done been daid 15 years now."</p> + +<p>His voice trembled as he talked about his first wife, and Lula almost +stopped her work to listen. This kind of talk did not please her and her +expression grew stern. "You done talked a-plenty," she told him. "You +ain't strong 'nough to do no more talkin'," but Jasper was not willing +to be silenced. "I reckon I knows when I'se tired. I ain't gwine to hush +'til I gits good and ready," was his protest. "Yes Missy," he continued. +"All our chillun is done daid now 'cept four and dey is 'way off up +North. Ain't nobody left here 'cept me and Lula. Lula is pow'ful good to +me. I done got too old to wuk, and can't do nothin' nohow wid dis old +foot so bad off. I'se ready and even anxious to go when de Good Lord +calls for old Jasper to come to de Heav'nly Home.</p> + +<p>"I ain't heared nothin' from my only brother in over 7 years. I 'spose +he still lives in Crawfordville. Missy, I wishes I could go back down to +Crawfordville one more time. I kin jus' see our old homeplace on de +plantation down dar now. Lula a-washin' here, makes me study 'bout de +old washplace on Marse Henry's plantation. Dere was a long bench full of +old wood tubs, and a great big iron pot for bilin' de clothes, and de +batten block and stick. Chillun beat de clothes wid de batten stick and +kept up de fire 'round de pot whilst de 'omans leaned over de tubs +washin' and a-singin' dem old songs. You could hear 'em 'most a mile +away. Now and den one of de 'omans would stop singin' long enough to +yell at de chillun to 'git more wood on dat fire 'fore I lash de skin +offen your back.'</p> + +<p>"Oh Missy, dem was good old days. Us would be lucky to have 'em back +again, 'specially when harvest time comes 'round. You could hear Niggers +a-singin' in de fields 'cause dey didn't have no worries lak dey got +now. When us got de corn up from de fields, Niggers come from far and +nigh to Marster's cornshuckin'. Dat cornshuckin' wuk was easy wid +evvybody singin' and havin' a good time together whilst dey made dem +shucks fly. De cornshuckin' captain led all de singin' and he set right +up on top of de highes' pile of corn. De chillun was kept busy a-passin' +de liquor jug 'round. Atter it started gittin' dark, Marster had big +bonfires built up and plenty of torches set 'round so as dere would be +plenty of light. Atter dey et all dey wanted of dem good things what had +done been cooked up for de big supper, den de wrastlin' matches started, +and Marster allus give prizes to de best wrastlers. Dere warn't no +fussin' and fightin' 'lowed on our place, and dem wrastlin' matches was +all in good humor and was kept orderly. Marster wanted evvybody to be +friends on our plantation and to stay dat way, for says he: 'De Blessed +Saviour done said for us to love our neighbor as ourselfs, and to give +and what us gives is gwine to come back to us.' Missy, de Good Lord's +word is always right."</p> + +<p>The interviewer was preparing to leave when one of Jasper's old friends +approached the sheltering tree in the yard, where the interview was +drawing to a close. "Brudder Paul," said Jasper, "I wisht you had come +sooner 'cause Missy, here, and me is done had de bestes' time a-goin' +back over dem old times when folks loved one another better dan dey does +now. Good-bye Missy, you done been mighty kind and patient wid old +Jasper. Come back again some time."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BinnsArrie"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. --<br> +Ex-Slv. #10]<br> +<br> +ARRIE BINNS OF WASHINGTON-WILKES<br> +<br> +by<br> +Minnie Branham Stonestreet<br> +Washington-Wilkes<br> +Georgia<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Arrie Binns lives in Baltimore, a negro suburb of Washington-Wilkes, in +a little old tumbled down kind of a cottage that used to be one of the +neatest and best houses of the settlement and where she has lived for +the past sixty-odd years. In the yard of her home is one of the most +beautiful holly trees to be found anywhere. She set it there herself +over fifty years ago. She recalled how her friends predicted bad luck +would befall her because she "sot out er holly", but not being in the +least bit superstitious she paid them "no mind" and has enjoyed her +beautiful tree all these years. Many lovely oaks are around her house; +she set them there long ago when she was young and with her husband +moved into their new home and wanted to make it as attractive as +possible. She is all alone now. Her husband died some years ago and +three of her four children have passed on. Her "preacher son" who was +her delight, died not very long ago. All this sorrow has left Aunt Arrie +old and sad; her face is no longer lighted by the smile it used to know. +She is a tiny little scrap of a woman with the softest voice and is as +neat as can be. She wears an oldfashioned apron all the time and in cool +weather there is always a little black cape around her frail shoulders +and held together with a plain old gold "breastpin".</p> + +<p>She was born in Lincoln County (Georgia), her mother was Emeline Sybert +and her father Jordan Sybert. They belonged to Mr. Jones Sybert and his +wife "Miss Peggy". After freedom they changed their surname to Gullatt +as they liked that better. Arrie was among the oldest of nine children. +The night she was born the stork brought a little baby girl to the home +of a white family just across the creek from the Syberts. The little +white girl was named Arine so "Miss Peggy" named the little new black +baby girl Arrie, and that is how it happened she was given such an odd +name.</p> + +<p>Arrie said she was "15 or 16 years old when the war broke (1865), I wuz +big enough to be lookin' at boys an' dey lookin' at me." She remembers +the days of war, how when the battle of Atlanta was raging they heard +the distant rumble of cannon, and how "upsot" they all were. Her master +died of "the consumption" during the war. She recalls how hard it was +after his death. The Syberts had no children and there was no one to +turn to after his death. Arrie tells of her Master's illness, how she +was the housemaid and was called upon to fan him and how she would get +so tired and sleepy she would nod a little, the fan dropping from hands +into his face. He would take it up and "crack my haid with the handle to +wake me up. I wuz allus so sorry when I done that, but I jest had ter +nod."</p> + +<p>She told about how bad the overseers were and the trouble they gave +until finally "old Miss turned off ther one she had an' put my Pa in his +place to manage things and look after the work." Arrie was never +punished, (not any more than having her head cracked by her Master when +she nodded while fanning him.) "No mam, not none of our niggers wuz +whipped. Why I recollect once, my brother wuz out without a pass an' de +patter rollers kotch him and brung him to old Miss and said he'd have +ter be whipped, old Miss got so mad she didn't know what ter do, she +said nobody wuz a goin' ter whip her niggers, but the patter roller men +'sisted so she said after er while, 'Well, but I'm goin' ter stan' right +here an' when I say stop, yer got ter stop', an' they 'greed to dat, an' +the third time dey hit him she raised her han' an' said 'STOP' an' dey +had ter let my brother go. My Miss wuz a big 'oman, she'd weigh nigh on +ter three hundred pound, I 'spect."</p> + +<p>After her master's death Arrie had to go into the field to work. She +recalled with a little chuckle, the old cream horse, "Toby" she use to +plow. She loved Toby, she said, and they did good work. When not plowing +she said she "picked er round in the fields" doing whatever she could. +She and the other slaves were not required to do very hard work. Her +mother was a field hand, but in the evenings she spun and wove down in +their cabin. Aunt Arrie added "an' I did love to hear that old spinnin' +wheel. It made a low kind of a whirring sound that made me sleepy." She +said her mother, with all the other negro women on the place, had "a +task of spinnin' a spool at night", and they spun and wove on rainy days +too. "Ma made our clothes an' we had pretty dresses too. She dyed some +blue and brown striped. We growed the indigo she used fer the blue, +right dar on the plantation, and she used bark and leaves to make the +tan and brown colors."</p> + +<p>Aunt Arrie said the Doctor was always called in when they were sick, +"but we never sont fer him lesse'n somebody wuz real sick. De old folks +doctored us jest fer little ailments. Dey give us lye tea fer colds. +(This was made by taking a few clean ashes from the fire place, putting +them in a little thin bag and pouring boiling water over them and let +set for a few minutes. This had to be given very weak or else it would +be harmful, Aunt Arrie explained.) Garlic and whiskey, and den, dar +ain't nothin' better fer the pneumony dan splinter tea. I've cured bad +cases with it." (That is made by pouring boiling water over lightwood +splinters.)</p> + +<p>Aunt Arrie told of their life on the plantation and it was not unlike +that of other slaves who had good masters who looked after them. They +had plenty to eat and to wear. Their food was given them and they cooked +and ate their meals in the cabins in family groups. Santa Claus always +found his way to the Quarters and brought them stick candy and other +things to eat. She said for their Christmas dinner there was always a +big fat hen and a hog head.</p> + +<p>In slavery days the negroes had quiltings, dances, picnics and everybody +had a good time, Aunt Arrie said, "an' I kin dance yit when I hears a +fiddle." They had their work to do in the week days, but when Sundays +came there was no work, everybody rested and on "preachin' days" went to +Church. Her father took them all to old Rehoboth, the neighborhood white +church, and they worshiped together, white and black, the negroes in the +gallery. That was back in the days when there was "no lookin' neither +to the right nor to the left" when in church; no matter what happened, +no one could even half way smile. This all was much harder than having +to listen to the long tiresome sermons of those days, Arrie thinks, +specially when she recalled on one occasion "when Mr. Sutton wuz a +preachin' a old goat [HW: got] up under the Church an' every time Mr. +Sutton would say something out real loud that old goat would go 'Bah-a-a +Bah ba-a-a' an' we couldn't laugh a bit. I most busted, I wanted ter +laugh so bad."</p> + +<p>"Yassum, in dem days" continued Aunt Arrie, "all us colored folks went +to the white folks church kase us didn't have no churches of our own and +day want no colored preachers den, but some what wuz called +"Chairbacks". The Chairback fellows went er round preachin' an' singin' +in the cabins down in the Quarters and dey use ter have the bes' +meetin's, folks would be converted an' change dey way. De hymns dey sung +de most wuz "Amazin' Grace" an' "Am I Born ter Die?" I 'members de +meetin's us use ter have down in our cabin an' how everybody would pray +an' sing."</p> + +<p>"Dey ain't nothin' lak it use ter be," sighed Aunt Arrie, "Now when I +first could recollect, when a nigger died they sot up with de corpse all +night and de next day had de funeral an' when dey started to the burial +ground with the body every body in the whole procession would sing +hymns. I've heard 'em 'nough times clear 'cross the fields, singin' and +moanin' as they went. Dem days of real feelin' an' keerin' is gone."</p> + +<p>When freedom came there were sad times on the Sybert plantation, Arrie +said. "Old Miss cried and cried, and all us cried too. Old Miss said +'You'al jest goin' off to perish.' Aunt Jennie, one of the oldest women +slaves stayed on with her and took keer of her, but all us stayed on a +while. Us didn't know whar to go an' what ter do, an' den come Dr. +Peters and Mr. Allen frum Arkansas to git han's to go out dar an' work +fer dem. My Pa took his family and we stayed two years. It took us might +nigh ar whole week to git dar, we went part way on de train and den rid +de steam boat up de Mississippi River ter de landin'. We worked in the +cotton field out dar and done all kinds er work on de farm, but us +didn't like an' Dr. Peters an' Mr. Allen give my Pa money fer us ter +come home on. 'Fore we could git started my oldest brother wanted to +come home so bad he jest pitched out and walked all de way frum Arkansas +to our old home in Georgy. We come back by Memphis and den come on home +on de train. When we wuz out dar I went to school an' got as far as +'Baker'. Dat's de only schoolin' I ever had."</p> + +<p>Aunt Arrie told about her courtship and marriage, she remembers all +about it and grew rather sentimental and sad while she talked. She said +that Franklin Binns was going with her before she went to live in +Arkansas and when she came home he picked up the courtship where he had +left off when she went away. He would ride 20 miles on horseback to see +her. He brought her candy and nice things to eat, but she still wouldn't +"give him no satisfaction 'bout whether she keered fer him er not." She +said other men wanted to come to see her, but she paid them not one bit +of attention. "No mam, I wouldn't 'cept of them, I never did go with in +an' everybody, I don't do dat yit." She said one day Franklin was to see +her and said "Less us marry, I think 'nough of you to marry." She said +she wouldn't tell him nothin' so he went to see her parents and they +agreed, so she married him sometime later. They were married by a white +minister, Mr. Joe Carter.</p> + +<p>Aunt Arrie leads a lonely life now. She grieves for her loved ones more +than negroes usually do. She doesn't get about much, but "I does go over +to see Sis Lou (a neighbor) every now an' den fer consolation." She says +she is living on borrowed time because she has always taken care of +herself and worked and been honest. She said that now she is almost at +the close of her life waiting day by day for the call to come, she is +glad she knew slavery, glad she was reared by good white people who +taught her the right way to live, and she added: "Mistess, I'se so glad +I allus worked hard an' been honest—hit has sho paid me time an' time +agin."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BlandHenry"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br> +ExSlv. #7<br> +Driskell]<br> +<br> +HENRY BLAND—EX-SLAVE<br> +[MAY -- --]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Henry Bland is one of the few living ex-slaves who was born on a +plantation near Edenton, Ga., in 1851. His parents were Martha and Sam +Coxton. In this family group were three other children, two girls and +one boy, who was the oldest. When questioned regarding the birthplace +and the movements of his parents, Mr. Bland stated that his father was +born in Hancock County, Ga. His mother along with her mother was brought +to Georgia by the speculator with a drove of other slaves. The first +thing that he remembers of his parents is when he was quite small and +was allowed to remain in the Master's kitchen in the "big house" where +his mother was cook.</p> + +<p>Mr. Coxton, who was the owner of Mr. Bland and his family, was described +as being very rich and influential man in the community where he lived. +Says Mr. Bland, "His only fault was that of drinking too much of the +whisky that he distilled on the plantation." Unlike some of the other +slave owners in that section, Mr. Coxton was very kind to his slaves. +His plantation was a large one and on it was raised cotton, corn, +cane[TR:?], vegetables, and live stock. More cotton was grown than +anything else.</p> + +<p>From the time he was 1 year and 6 months of age until he was 9 years old +he lived in the "big house" with his mother. At night he slept on the +floor there. In spite of this, his and his mother's treatment was +considerably better than that received by those slaves who worked in the +fields. While their food consisted of the same things as did that of the +field slaves, sometimes choice morsels came back to the kitchen from the +Master's table. He says that his mother's clothes were of better quality +than the other slave women (those who were not employed in the house).</p> + +<p>As a child his first job was to cut wood for the stove, pick up chips, +and to drive the cows to and from the pasture. When 9 years old he was +sent to the field as a plow boy. Here he worked with a large number of +other slaves (he does not know the exact number) who were divided into +two groups, the plow group and the hoe group. His father happened to be +the foreman of the hoe gang. His brothers and sisters also worked here +in the fields being required to hoe as well as plow. When picking time +came, everyone was required to pick. The usual amount of cotton each +person was required to pick was 200 lbs. per day. However, when this +amount was not picked by some they were not punished by the overseer, as +was the case on neighboring plantations, because Mr. Coxton realized +that some could do more work than others. Mr. Coxton often told his +overseer that he had not been hired to whip the slaves, but to teach +them how to work.</p> + +<p>Says Mr. Bland: "Our working hours were the same as on any other +plantation. We had to get up every morning before sun-up and when it was +good and light we were in the field. A bugle was blown to wake us." All +the slaves stayed in the field until dark. After leaving the field they +were never required to do any work but could spend their time as they +saw fit to. No work was required on Saturday or Sunday with the +exception that the stock had to be cared for. Besides those days when no +work was required, there was the 4th of July and Christmas on which the +slaves were permitted to do as they pleased. These two latter dates were +usually spent in true holiday spirit as the master usually gave a big +feast in the form of a barbecue and allowed them to invite their +friends.</p> + +<p>When darkness came they sang and danced and this was what they called a +"frolic." As a general rule this same thing was permitted after the +crops had been gathered. Music for these occasions was furnished by +violin, banjo and a clapping of hands. Mr. Bland says that he used to +help furnish this music as Mr. Coxton had bought him a violin.</p> + +<p>On the Coxton plantation all slaves always had a sufficient amount of +clothing. These clothes which were issued when needed and not at any +certain time included articles for Sunday wear as well as articles for +work. Those servants who worked in the "big house" wore practically the +same clothes as the master and his wife with the possible exception that +it met the qualification of being second-handed. An issue of work +clothing included a heavy pair of work shoes called brogans, homespun +shirts and a pair of jeans pants. A pair of knitted socks was also +included The women wore homespun dresses for their working clothes. For +Sunday wear the men were given white cotton shirts and the women white +cotton dresses. All clothing was made on the plantation by those women +who were too old for field work.</p> + +<p>In the same manner that clothing was sufficient, so was food plentiful. +At the end of each week each family was given 4 lbs. of meat, 1 peck of +meal, and some syrup. Each person in a family was allowed to raise a +garden and so they had vegetables whenever they wished to. In addition +to this they were allowed to raise chickens, to hunt and to fish. +However, none of the food that was secured in any of the ways mentioned +above could be sold. When anyone wished to hunt, Mr. Coxton supplied the +gun and the shot.</p> + +<p>Although the slaves cooked for themselves, their breakfast and dinner +were usually sent to them in the fields after it had been prepared in +the cook house. The reason for this was that they had to get up too soon +in the morning, and at noon too much time would be lost if they were +permitted to go to their cabins for lunch.</p> + +<p>The children who were too young to work in the field were cared for by +some old slave who likewise was unable to do field work. The children +were usually fed pot liquor, corn bread, milk, syrup, and vegetables. +Each one had his individual cup to eat from. The food on Sunday was +usually no different from that of any other day of the week. However, +Mr. Bland says that they never had to break in the smokehouse because of +hunger.</p> + +<p>When asked to describe the living quarters of the slaves on his +plantation he looked around his room and muttered: "Dey wuz a lot better +than dis one." Some of the cabins were made of logs and some of +weatherboards. The chinks in the walls were sealed with mud. In some +instances boards were used on the inside to keep the weather out. There +were usually two windows, shutters being used in the place of window +panes. The chimney and fireplace were made of mud and stones. All +cooking was done at the fireplace as none of them were provided with +stoves. Iron cooking utensils were used. To boil food a pot was hung +over the fire by means of a hook. The remaining furniture was a bench +which served as a chair, and a crude bed. Rope running from side to side +served as bed springs. The mattress was made of straw or hay. For +lighting purposes, pine knots and candles were used. The slaves on the +Coxton plantation were also fortunate in that all cabins had good +floors. All cabins and their furnishings were built by the slaves who +learned the use of hammer and saw from white artisans whom Mr. Coxton +employed from time to time. Mr. Bland remarked that his father was a +blacksmith, having learned the trade in this manner.</p> + +<p>A doctor was employed regularly by Mr. Coxton to minister to the needs +of the slaves in time of illness. "We also had our own medicine," says +Mr. Bland. At different times excursions were made to the woods where +"yarbs" (herbs) were gathered. Various kinds of teas and medicines were +made by boiling these roots in water. The usual causes of illness on +this plantation were colds, fevers, and constipation. Castor oil and +salts were also used to a great extent. If an individual was too ill to +work an older slave had to nurse this person.</p> + +<p>No effort was made by Mr. Coxton to teach his slaves anything except +manual training. A slave who could use his hands at skilled work was +more valuable than the ordinary field hand. If, however, a slave secured +a book, Mr. Coxton would help him learn to read it. Above all, religious +training was not denied. As a matter of fact, Mr. Coxton required each +one of his servants to dress in his Sunday clothes and to go to church +every Sunday. Services for all were held at the white church—the slaves +sitting on one side and the masters on the other. All preaching was done +by a white pastor.</p> + +<p>No promiscuous relationships were allowed. If a man wanted to marry he +merely pointed out the woman of his choice to the master. He in turn +called her and told her that such and such an individual wished her for +a wife. If she agreed they were pronounced man and wife and were +permitted to live together.</p> + +<p>The slaves on his plantation were great believers in roots and their +values in the use of conjuring people.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bland doesn't remember ever seeing anyone sold by Mr. Coxton, but he +heard that on other nearby plantations slaves were placed on an auction +block and sold like cattle.</p> + +<p>None of the slaves were ever whipped or beaten by Mr. Coxton or by +anyone else. If a rule was broken the offender was called before Mr. +Coxton where he was talked to. In some cases a whipping was promised and +that ended the matter. The "Paddie Rollers" whipped the slaves from +other plantations when they were caught off of their premises without a +"pass" but this was never the case when a slave belonging to Mr. Coxton +broke this rule. Mr. Bland remembers that once he and some of his fellow +slaves were away from home without a pass when they were seen by the +"Paddie Rollers" who started after them. When they were recognized as +belonging to Mr. Coxton one of them (Paddie Rollers) said: "Don't bother +them; that's them d---- 'free niggers'." The Paddie Rollers were not +allowed to come on the Coxton plantation to whip his slaves or any other +owner's slaves who happened to be visiting at the time. Mr. Coxton +required that they all be on the plantation by nightfall.</p> + +<p>(The above seems to be rather conclusive proof of Mr. Coxton's influence +in the community.) [TR: Parentheses added by hand.]</p> + +<p>Whenever a slave committed a crime against the State, his master usually +had to pay for the damage done or pay the slave's fine. It was then up +to him to see that the offender was punished.</p> + +<p>Mr. Coxton once saw him (Mr. Bland) beat another slave (who was a guest +at a frolic) when this visitor attempted to draw a pistol on him. Mr. +Bland was upheld in his action and told by Mr. Coxton that he had better +always fight back when anyone struck him, whether the person was white +or black. Further, if he (Mr. Coxton) heard of his not fighting back a +whipping would be in store for him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Coxton was different from some of the slave owners in that he gave +the head of each family spending money at Christmas time—the amount +varying with the size of the family.</p> + +<p>"When the Civil war was begun the master seemed to be worried all the +time" states Mr. Bland. "He was afraid that we would be freed and then +he would have to hire us to do his work."</p> + +<p>When asked to describe his feelings about the war and the possibility of +his being freed, Mr. Bland said that he had no particular feeling of +gladness at all. The outcome of the war did not interest him at all +because Mr. Coxton was such a good master he didn't care whether he was +freed or not. His fellow slaves felt the same way.</p> + +<p>When Sherman and the Yankees were marching through they took all of the +live stock but bothered nothing else. The buildings on the adjoining +plantation were all burned. A small skirmish took place about 2 miles +away from Mr. Coxton's plantation when the Yankees and Confederates met. +Mr. Coxton's two sons took part in the war.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bland was taken by Sherman's army to Savannah and then to Macon. He +says that he saw President Jeff Davis give up his sword to General +Sherman in surrender.</p> + +<p>After the war Mr. Coxton was still well off in spite of the fact that he +had lost quite a bit of money as a result of the war. He saved a great +deal of his cash by burying it when Sherman came through. The cattle +might have been saved if he (Mr. Bland) could have driven them into the +woods before he was seen by some of the soldiers.</p> + +<p>At the close of the war Mr. Coxton informed all the slaves that they +were free to go where they wished, but they all refused to leave. Most +of them died on the plantation. Mr. Bland says that when he became of +age his former master gave him a wagon, two mules, a horse and buggy and +ten pigs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bland thinks that old age is a characteristic in his family. His +grandmother lived to be 115 years old and his mother 107 years old. +Although in his 80's, Mr. Bland is an almost perfect picture of health. +He thinks that he will live to become at least 100 years old because he +is going to continue to live as sane a life as he has in the past.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BodyRias"></a> +<h3>J.R. Jones<br> +<br> +RIAS BODY, Ex-Slave.<br> +Place of birth: Harris County, near Waverly Hall, Georgia<br> +Date of birth: April 9, 1846<br> +Present residence: 1419-24th Street, Columbus, Georgia<br> +Interviewed: July 24, 1936<br> +[JUL 8, 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Rias Body was born the slave property of Mr. Ben Body, a Harris County +planter. He states that he was about fifteen years old when the Civil +War started and, many years ago, his old time white folks told him that +April 9, 1846, was the date of his birth.</p> + +<p>The "patarolers," according to "Uncle" Rias, were always quite active in +ante-bellum days. The regular patrol consisted of six men who rode +nightly, different planters and overseers taking turns about to do +patrol duty in each militia district in the County.</p> + +<p>All slaves were required to procure passes from their owners or their +plantation overseers before they could go visiting or leave their home +premises. If the "patarolers" caught a "Nigger" without a pass, they +whipped him and sent him home. Sometimes, however, if the "Nigger" +didn't run and told a straight story, he was let off with a lecture and +a warning. Slave children, though early taught to make themselves +useful, had lots of time for playing and frolicking with the white +children.</p> + +<p>Rias was a great hand to go seining with a certain clique of white boys, +who always gave him a generous or better than equal share of the fish +caught.</p> + +<p>At Christmas, every slave on the Body plantation received a present. The +Negro children received candy, raisins and "nigger-toes", balls, +marbles, etc.</p> + +<p>As for food, the slaves had, with the exception of "fancy trimmins", +about the same food that the whites ate. No darky in Harris County that +he ever heard of ever went hungry or suffered for clothes until after +freedom.</p> + +<p>Every Saturday was a wash day. The clothes and bed linen of all Whites +and Blacks went into wash every Saturday. And "Niggers", whether they +liked it or not, had to "scrub" themselves every Saturday night.</p> + +<p>The usual laundry and toilet soap was a homemade lye product, some of it +a soft-solid, and some as liquid as water. The latter was stored in jugs +and demijohns. Either would "fetch the dirt, or take the hide off"; in +short, when applied "with rag and water, something had to come".</p> + +<p>Many of the Body slaves had wives and husbands living on other +plantations and belonging to other planters. As a courtesy to the +principals of such matrimonial alliances, their owners furnished the +men passes permitting them to visit their wives once or twice a week. +Children born to such unions were the property of the wife's owner; the +father's owner had no claim to them whatsoever.</p> + +<p>"Uncle" Rias used to frequently come to Columbus with his master before +the war, where he often saw "Niggers oxioned off" at the old slave mart +which was located at what is now 1225 Broadway. Negroes to be offered +for sale were driven to Columbus in droves—like cattle—by "Nawthon +speckulatahs". And prospective buyers would visit the "block" +accompanied by doctors, who would feel of, thump, and examine the +"Nigger" to see if sound. A young or middle-aged Negro man, specially or +even well trained in some trade or out-of-the-ordinary line of work, +often sold for from $2000.00 to $4000.00 in gold. Women and "runty +Nigger men" commanded a price of from $600.00 up, each. A good "breedin +oman", though, says "Uncle" Rias, would sometimes sell for as high as +$1200.00.</p> + +<p>Rias Body had twelve brothers, eight of whom were "big buck Niggers," +and older than himself. The planters and "patarolers" accorded these +"big Niggers" unusual privileges—to the end that he estimates that they +"wuz de daddies uv least a hunnert head o' chillun in Harris County +before de war broke out." Some of these children were "scattered" over a +wide area.</p> + +<p>Sin, according to Rias Body, who voices the sentiment of the great +majority of aged Negroes, is that, or everything, which one does and +says "not in the name of the Master". The holy command, "Whatever ye do, +do it in My name," is subjected to some very unorthodox interpretations +by many members of the colored race. Indeed, by their peculiar +interpretation of this command, it is established that "two clean sheets +can't smut", which means that a devout man and woman may indulge in the +primal passion without committing sin.</p> + +<p>The old man rather boasts of the fact that he received a number of +whippings when a slave: says he now knows that he deserved them, "an +thout 'em", he would have no doubt "been hung 'fore he wuz thutty years +ole."</p> + +<p>Among the very old slaves whom he knew as a boy were quite a few whom +the Negroes looked up to, respected, and feared as witches, wizzards, +and magic-workers. These either brought their "learnin" with them from +Africa or absorbed it from their immediate African forebears. Mentally, +these people wern't brilliant, but highly sensitized, and Rias gave "all +sich" as wide a berth as opportunity permitted him, though he knows "dat +dey had secret doins an carrying-ons". In truth, had the Southern Whites +not curbed the mumbo-jumboism of his people, he is of the opinion that +it would not now be safe to step "out his doe at night".</p> + +<p>Incidentally, Rias Body is more fond of rabbit than any other meat "in +de wurrul", and says that he could—if he were able to get them—eat +three rabbits a day, 365 days in the year, and two for breakfast on +Christmas morning. He also states that pork, though killed in the +hottest of July weather, will not spoil if it is packed down in shucked +corn-on-the-cob. This he learned in slavery days when, as a "run-away", +he "knocked a shoat in the head" one summer and tried it—proving it.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BoltonJames"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +JAMES BOLTON<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residency 4<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Miss Maude Barragan<br> +Residency 13<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>"It never was the same on our plantation atter we done laid Mistess +away," said James Bolton, 85 year old mulatto ex-slave. "I ain't never +forget when Mistess died—she had been so good to every nigger on our +plantation. When we got sick, Mistess allus had us tended to. The +niggers on our plantation all walked to church to hear her funeral +sermon and then walked to the graveyard to the buryin'."</p> + +<p>James, shrivelled and wrinkled, with his bright eyes taking in +everything on one of his rare visits to town, seemed glad of the chance +to talk about slavery days. He spoke of his owner as "my employer" and +hastily corrected himself by saying, "I means, my marster."</p> + +<p>"My employer, I means my marster, and my mistess, they was sho' all +right white folkses," he continued. "They lived in the big 'ouse. Hit +was all painted brown. I heard tell they was more'n 900 acres in our +plantation and lots of folkses lived on it. The biggest portion was +woods. My paw, he was name Whitfield Bolton and Liza Bolton was my maw. +Charlie, Edmund, Thomas and John Bolton was my brothers and I had one +sister, she was Rosa. We belonged to Marse Whitfield Bolton and we lived +on his plantation in Oglethorpe County near Lexington, not far from the +Wilkes County line.</p> + +<p>"We stayed in a one room log cabin with a dirt floor. A frame made outen +pine poles was fastened to the wall to hold up the mattresses. Our +mattresses was made outen cotton bagging stuffed with wheat straw. Our +kivers was quilts made outen old clothes. Slave 'omens too old to work +in the fields made the quilts.</p> + +<p>"Maw, she went up to the big house onc't a week to git the 'lowance or +vittles. They 'lowanced us a week's rations at a time. Hit were +generally hog meat, corn meal and sometimes a little flour. Maw, she +done our cookin' on the coals in the fireplace at our cabin. We had +plenty of 'possums and rabbits and fishes and sometimes we had wild +tukkeys and partidges. Slaves warn't spozen to go huntin' at night and +everybody know you can't ketch no 'possums 'ceppin' at night! Jus' the +same, we had plenty 'possums and nobody ax how we cotch 'em!" James +laughed and nodded. "Now, 'bout them rabbits! Slaves warn't 'lowed to +have no guns and no dogs of they own. All the dogs on our plantation +belonged to my employer—I means, to my marster, and he 'lowed us to use +his dogs to run down the rabbits. Nigger mens and boys 'ud go in crowds, +sometimes as many as twelve at one time, and a rabbit ain't got no +chance 'ginst a lot of niggers and dogs when they light out for to run +'im down!</p> + +<p>"What wild critters we wanted to eat and couldn't run down, we was right +smart 'bout ketchin' in traps. We cotch lots of wild tukkeys and +partidges in traps and nets. Long Crick runned through our plantation +and the river warn't no fur piece off. We sho' did ketch the fishes, +mostly cats, and perch and heaps and heaps of suckers. We cotch our +fishes mos'n generally with hook and line, but the carpenters on our +plantation knowed how to make basket traps that sho' nuff did lay in the +fishes! God only knows how long it's been since this old nigger pulled +a big shad out of the river. Ain't no shads been cotch in the river +round here in so long I disremembers when!</p> + +<p>"We didn' have no gardens of our own round our cabins. My employer—I +means, my marster—had one big gyarden for our whole plantation and all +his niggers had to work in it whensomever he wanted 'em to, then he give +'em all plenty good gyarden sass for theyselfs. They was collards and +cabbage and turnips and beets and english peas and beans and onions, and +they was allus some garlic for ailments. Garlic was mostly to cure wums +(worms). They roasted the garlic in the hot ashes and squez the juice +outen it and made the chilluns take it. Sometimes they made poultices +outen garlic for the pneumony.</p> + +<p>"We saved a heap of bark from wild cherry and poplar and black haw and +slippery ellum trees and we dried out mullein leaves. They was all mixed +and brewed to make bitters. Whensomever a nigger got sick, them bitters +was good for—well ma'am, they was good for what ailed 'em! We tuk 'em +for rheumatiz, for fever, and for the misery in the stummick and for +most all sorts of sickness. Red oak bark tea was good for sore throat.</p> + +<p>"I never seed no store bought clothes twel long atter freedom done come! +One slave 'oman done all the weavin' in a separate room called the 'loom +house.' The cloth was dyed with home-made coloring. They used indigo for +blue, red oak bark for brown, green husks offen warnicks (walnuts) for +black, and sumacs for red and they'd mix these colors to make other +colors. Other slave 'omans larned to sew and they made all the clothes. +Endurin' the summertime we jus' wore shirts and pants made outen plain +cotton cloth. They wove wool in with the cotton to make the cloth for +our winter clothes. The wool was raised right thar on our plantation. We +had our own shoemaker man—he was a slave named Buck Bolton and he made +all the shoes the niggers on our plantation wore.</p> + +<p>"I waren't nothin' but chillun when freedom come. In slavery-time +chilluns waren't 'lowed to do no wuk kazen the marsters wanted they +niggers to grow up big and strong and didn' want 'em stunted none. Tha's +howcome I didn' git no mo' beatin's than I did! My employer—I means, my +marster, never did give me but one lickin'. He had done told me to watch +the cows and keep 'em in the pastur'. I cotch lots of grasshoppers and +started fishin' in the crick runnin' through the pastur' and fust thing +I knowed, the overseer was roundin' up all the other niggers to git the +cows outen the cornfields! I knowed then my time had done come!"</p> + +<p>James was enjoying the spotlight now, and his audience did not have to +prompt him. Plantation recollections crowded together in his old mind.</p> + +<p>"We had one overseer at a time," he said, "and he allus lived at the big +'ouse. The overseers warn't quality white folkses like our marster and +mistess but we never heard nuffin' 'bout no poor white trash in them +days, and effen we had heard sumpin' like that we'd have knowed better'n +to let Marster hear us make such talk! Marster made us call his overseer +'Mister.' We had one overseer named Mr. Andrew Smith and another time we +had a overseer named Mr. Pope Short. Overseers was jus' there on the +business of gettin' the work done—they seed atter everybody doin' his +wuk 'cordin' to order.</p> + +<p>"My employer—I means, my marster, never 'lowed no overseer to whup none +of his niggers! Marster done all the whuppin' on our plantation hisself. +He never did make no big bruises and he never drawed no blood, but he +sho' could burn 'em up with that lash! Niggers on our plantation was +whupped for laziness mostly. Next to that, whuppings was for stealin' +eggs and chickens. They fed us good and plenty but a nigger is jus' +bound to pick up chickens and eggs effen he kin, no matter how much he +done eat! He jus' can't help it. Effen a nigger ain't busy he gwine to +git into mischief!</p> + +<p>"Now and then slaves 'ud run away and go in the woods and dig dens and +live in 'em. Sometimes they runned away on 'count of cruel treatment, +but most of the time they runned away kazen they jus' didn't want to +wuk, and wanted to laze around for a spell. The marsters allus put the +dogs atter 'em and git 'em back. They had black and brown dogs called +'nigger hounds' what waren't used for nothin' but to track down niggers.</p> + +<p>"They waren't no such place as a jail whar we was. Effen a nigger done +sumpin' disorderly they jus' natcherly tuk a lash to 'im. I ain't never +seed no nigger in chains twel long atter freedom done come when I seed +'em on the chain gangs.</p> + +<p>"The overseer woke us up at sunrise—leas'n they called it sunrise! We +would finish our vittles and be in the fields ready for wuk befo' we +seed any sun! We laid off wuk at sunset and they didn't drive us hard. +Leas'wise, they didn' on our plantation. I done heard they was moughty +hard on 'em on other plantations. My marster never did 'low his niggers +to wuk atter sundown. My employer, I means my marster, didn't have no +bell. He had 'em blow bugles to wake up his hands and to call 'em from +the fields. Sometimes the overseer blowed it. Mistess done larned the +cook to count the clock, but none of the rest of our niggers could count +the clock.</p> + +<p>"I never knowed Marster to sell but one slave and he jus' had bought her +from the market at New Orleans. She say it lonesome off on the +plantation and axed Marster for to sell her to folkses livin' in town. +Atter he done sold her, every time he got to town she beg 'im to buy her +back! But he didn' pay her no more 'tention. When they had sales of +slaves on the plantations they let everybody know what time the sale +gwine to be. When the crowd git togedder they put the niggers on the +block and sell 'em. Leas'wise, they call it 'puttin' on the block'—they +jus' fotch 'em out and show 'em and sell 'em.</p> + +<p>"They waren't no church for niggers on our plantation and we went to +white folkses church and listened to the white preachers. We set behind +a partition. Sometimes on a plantation a nigger claim he done been +called to preach and effen he kin git his marster's cawn-sent he kin +preach round under trees and in cabins when t'aint wuk time. These +nigger preachers in slavery time was called 'chairbackers.' They waren't +no chairbackers 'lowed to baptize none of Marster's niggers. White +preachers done our baptizin' in Long Crick. When we went to be baptized +they allus sang, 'Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound!'"</p> + +<p>The old negro's quavery voice rose in the familiar song. For a moment he +sat thinking of those long-ago Sundays. His eyes brightened again, and +he went on:</p> + +<p>"We never done no wuk on Sundays on our plantation. The church was 'bout +nine miles from the plantation and we all walked there. Anybody too old +and feeble to walk the nine miles jus' stayed home, kazen Marster didn't +'low his mules used none on Sunday. All along the way niggers from other +plantations 'ud jine us and sometimes befo' we git to the church house +they'd be forty or fifty slaves comin' along the road in a crowd! +Preaching generally lasted twel bout three o'clock. In summertime we had +dinner on the ground at the church. Howsomever we didn' have no barbecue +like they does now. Everybody cooked enough on Sadday and fotched it in +baskets.</p> + +<p>"I was thirty years old when I jined the church. Nobody ought to jine no +church twels't he is truly borned of God, and effen he is truly borned +of God he gwine know it. Effen you want a restin' place atter you leaves +this old world you ought to git ready for it now!</p> + +<p>"When folkses on our plantation died Marster allus let many of us as +wanted to go, lay offen wuk twel atter the buryin'. Sometimes it were +two or three months atter the buryin' befo' the funeral sermon was +preached. Right now I can't rekelleck no song we sung at funerals cep'n +'Hark from the tombs a doleful sound.'"</p> + +<p>The reedy old voice carried the funeral hymn for a few minutes and then +trailed off. James was thinking back into the past again.</p> + +<p>"Spring plowin' and hoein' times we wukked all day Saddays, but mos'en +generally we laid off wuk at twelve o'clock Sadday. That was dinnertime. +Sadday nights we played and danced. Sometimes in the cabins, sometimes +in the yards. Effen we didn' have a big stack of fat kindling wood lit +up to dance by, sometimes the mens and 'omans would carry torches of +kindling wood whils't they danced and it sho' was a sight to see! We +danced the 'Turkey Trot' and 'Buzzard Lope', and how we did love to +dance the 'Mary Jane!' We would git in a ring and when the music started +we would begin wukkin' our footses while we sang 'You steal my true love +and I steal your'n!'</p> + +<p>"Atter supper we used to gether round and knock tin buckets and pans, we +beat 'em like drums. Some used they fingers and some used sticks for to +make the drum sounds and somebody allus blowed on quills. Quills was a +row of whistles made outen reeds, or sometimes they made 'em outen bark. +Every whistle in the row was a different tone and you could play any +kind of tune you wants effen you had a good row of quills. They sho' did +sound sweet!</p> + +<p>"'Bout the most fun we had was at corn shuckin's whar they put the corn +in long piles and called in the folkses from the plantations nigh round +to shuck it. Sometimes four or five hunnert head of niggers 'ud be +shuckin' corn at one time. When the corn all done been shucked they'd +drink the likker the marsters give 'em and then frolic and dance from +sundown to sunup. We started shuckin' corn 'bout dinnertime and tried to +finish by sundown so we could have the whole night for frolic. Some +years we 'ud go to ten or twelve corn shuckin's in one year!</p> + +<p>"We would sing and pray Easter Sunday and on Easter Monday we frolicked +and danced all day long! Christmas we allus had plenty good sumpin' to +eat and we all got togedder and had lots of fun. We runned up to the big +'ouse early Christmas mornin' and holler out: 'Mornin', Christmas Gif'!' +Then they'd give us plenty of Sandy Claus and we would go back to our +cabins to have fun twel New Year's day. We knowed Christmas was over and +gone when New Year's day come, kazen we got back to wuk that day atter +frolickin' all Christmas week.</p> + +<p>"We didn' know nuttin' 'bout games to play. We played with the white +folkses chilluns and watched atter 'em but most of the time we played in +the crick what runned through the pastur'. Nigger chilluns was allus +skeered to go in the woods atter dark. Folkses done told us +Raw-Head-and-Bloody Bones lived in the woods and git little chilluns and +eat 'em up effen they got out in the woods atter dark!</p> + +<p>"'Rockabye baby in the tree trops' was the onliest song I heard my maw +sing to git her babies to sleep. Slave folkses sung most all the time +but we didn' think of what we sang much. We jus' got happy and started +singin'. Sometimes we 'ud sing effen we felt sad and lowdown, but soon +as we could, we 'ud go off whar we could go to sleep and forgit all +'bout trouble!" James nodded his gray head with a wise look in his +bright eyes. "When you hear a nigger singin' sad songs hit's jus' kazen +he can't stop what he is doin' long enough to go to sleep!"</p> + +<p>The laughter that greeted this sally brought an answering grin to the +wrinkled old face. Asked about marriage customs, James said:</p> + +<p>"Folkses didn' make no big to-do over weddings like they do now. When +slaves got married they jus' laid down the broom on the floor and the +couple jined hands and jumped back-uds over the broomstick. I done seed +'em married that way many a time. Sometimes my marster would fetch +Mistess down to the slave quarters to see a weddin'. Effen the slaves +gittin' married was house servants, sometimes they married on the back +porch or in the back yard at the big 'ouse but plantation niggers what +was field hands married in they own cabins. The bride and groom jus' +wore plain clothes kazen they didn' have no more.</p> + +<p>"When the young marsters and mistesses at the big houses got married +they 'lowed the slaves to gadder on the porch and peep through the +windows at the weddin'. Mos'en generally they 'ud give the young couple +a slave or two to take with them to they new home. My marster's chilluns +was too young to git married befo' the war was over. They was seven of +them chilluns; four of 'em was gals.</p> + +<p>"What sort of tales did they tell 'mongs't the slaves 'bout the Norf +befo' the war? To tell the troof, they didn't talk much like they does +now 'bout them sort of things. None of our niggers ever runned away and +we didn' know nuthin' 'bout no Norf twel long atter freedom come. We +visited round each other's cabins at night. I did hear tell 'bout the +patterollers. Folkses said effen they cotched niggers out at night they +'ud give 'em 'what Paddy give the drum'.</p> + +<p>"Jus' befo' freedom comed 'bout 50 Yankee sojers come through our +plantation and told us that the bull-whups and cow-hides was all dead +and buried. Them sojers jus' passed on in a hurry and didn' stop for a +meal or vittles or nuffin'. We didn't talk much 'bout Mr. Abbieham +Lincum endurin' slavery time kazen we was skeered of him atter the war +got started. I don't know nothin' 'bout Mr. Jef'son Davis, I don't +remember ever hearin' 'bout him. I is heard about Mr. Booker Washin'ton +and they do say he runned a moughty good school for niggers.</p> + +<p>"One mornin' Marster blowed the bugle his own self and called us all up +to the big 'ouse yard. He told us: 'You all jus' as free as I is. You +are free from under the taskmarster but you ain't free from labor. You +gotter labor and wuk hard effen you aims to live and eet and have +clothes to wear. You kin stay here and wuk for me, or you kin go +wharsomever you please.' He said he 'ud pay us what was right, and Lady, +hit's the troof, they didn't nary a nigger on our plantation leave our +marster then! I wukked on with Marster for 40 years atter the war!"</p> + +<p>James had no fear of the Ku Klux.</p> + +<p>"Right soon atter the war we saw plenty of Ku Kluxers but they never +bothered nobody on our plantation. They allus seemed to be havin' heaps +of fun. 'Course, they did have to straighten out some of them brash +young nigger bucks on some of the other farms round about. Mos' of the +niggers the Ku Kluxers got atter was'n on no farm, but was jus' roamin' +'round talkin' too much and makin' trouble. They had to take 'em in hand +two or three times befo' some of them fool free niggers could be larned +to behave theyselfs! But them Ku Kluxers kept on atter 'em twels't they +larned they jus got to be good effen they 'spects to stay round here.</p> + +<p>"Hit was about 40 years atter the war befo' many niggers 'gun to own +they own lan'. They didn' know nothin' 'bout tendin' to money business +when the war done ended and it take 'em a long time to larn how to buy +and sell and take care of what they makes." James shook his head sadly. +"Ma'am, heaps of niggers ain't never larned nothin' 'bout them things +yit!</p> + +<p>"A long time atter the war I married Lizy Yerby. I didn' give Liza no +chanc't for to dress up. Jus' went and tuk her right outer the white +folkses' kitchen and married her at the church in her workin' clothes. +We had 13 chilluns but they ain't but two of 'em livin' now. Mos' of our +chilluns died babies. Endurin' slavery Mistess tuk care of all the +nigger babies borned on our plantations and looked atter they mammies +too, but atter freedom come heap of nigger babies died out."</p> + +<p>James said he had two wives, both widows.</p> + +<p>"I married my second wife 37 years ago. To tell the troof, I don't +rightly know how many grandchilluns I got, kazen I ain't seed some of +'em for thirty years. My chilluns is off fum here and I wouldn' know to +save my life whar they is or what they does. My sister and brothers they +is done dead out what ain't gone off, I don't know for sho' whar none of +'em is now."</p> + +<p>A sigh punctuated James' monologue, and his old face was shadowed by a +look of fear.</p> + +<p>"Now I gwine tell you the troof. Now that it's all over I don't find +life so good in my old age, as it was in slavery time when I was chillun +down on Marster's plantation. Then I didn' have to worry 'bout whar my +clothes and my somepin' to eat was comin' from or whar I was gwine to +sleep. Marster tuk keer of all that. Now I ain't able for to wuk and +make a livin' and hit's sho' moughty hard on this old nigger."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BostwickAlec"></a> +<h3>ALEC BOSTWICK<br> +Ex-Slave—Age 76</h3> + +<p>[TR: Preceding page that would usually contain information regarding the +interview was marked 'Placeholder'.]</p> +<br> + +<p>All of Uncle Alec Bostwick's people are dead and he lives in his tiny +home with a young Negress named Emma Vergal. It was a beautiful April +morning when his visitor arrived and while he was cordial enough he +seemed very reluctant about talking. However, as one question followed +another his interest gradually overcame his hesitancy and he began to +unfold his life's story.</p> + +<p>"I wuz born in Morgan County, an' I warn't mo' dan four year old when de +War ended so I don't ricollect nothin' 'bout slav'ry days. I don't know +much 'bout my ma, but her name was Martha an' pa's name was Jordan +Bostwick, I don't know whar dey come from. When I knowed nothin' I wuz +dar on de plantation. I had three brothers; George, John an' Reeje, an' +dey's all dead. I dis'members my sister's name. Dar warn't but one gal +an' she died when she wuz little.</p> + +<p>"Ain't much to tell 'bout what wuz done in de quarters. Slaves wuz +gyarded all de time jus' lak Niggers on de chain gang now. De overseer +always sot by wid a gun.</p> + +<p>"'Bout de beds, Nigger boys didn't pay no 'tention to sich as dat 'cause +all dey keered 'bout wuz a place to sleep but 'peers lak to me dey wuz +corded beds, made wid four high posties, put together wid iron pegs, an' +holes what you run de cords thoo', bored in de sides. De cords wuz made +out of b'ar grass woun' tight together. Dey put straw an' old quilts on +'em, an' called 'em beds.</p> + +<p>"Gran'pa Berry wuz too old to wuk in de field so he stayed 'roun' de +house an' piddled. He cut up wood, tended to de gyarden an' yard, an' +bottomed chairs. Gran'ma Liza done de cookin' an' nussed de white +folkses chilluns.</p> + +<p>"I wukked in de field 'long side da rest of de Niggers, totin' water an' +sich lak, wid de overseer dar all de time wid dat gun.</p> + +<p>"What you talkin' 'bout Miss? Us didn't have no money. Sho' us didn't. +Dey had to feed us an' plenty of it, 'cause us couldn't wuk if dey +didn't feed us good.</p> + +<p>"Us et cornbread, sweet 'tatoes, peas, home-made syrup an' sich lak. De +meat wuz fried sometimes, but mos' of de time it wuz biled wid de +greens. All de somethin' t'eat wuz cooked in de fireplace. Dey didn't +know what stoves wuz in dem days. Yes Ma'am, us went 'possum huntin' at +night, an' us had plenty 'possums too. Dey put sweet 'tatoes an' fat +meat roun' 'em, an' baked 'em in a oven what had eyes on each side of it +to put hooks in to take it off de fire wid.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'am, us didn't go fishin', or rabbit huntin' nuther. Us had to wuk +an' warn't no Nigger 'lowed to do no frolickin' lak dat in daytime. De +white folkses done all de fishin' an' daytime huntin'. I don't 'member +lakin' no sartin' somethin'. I wuz jus' too glad to git anythin'. Slaves +didn't have no gyardens of dey own. Old Marster had one big gyarden what +all de slaves et out of.</p> + +<p>"Tell you 'bout our clo'es: us wore home-made clo'es, pants an' shirts +made out of cotton in summer an' in de winter dey give us mo' home-made +clo'es only dey wuz made of wool. All de clawf wuz made on de loom right +dar on de plantation. Us wore de same things on Sunday what us did in de +week, no diffunt. Our shoes wuz jus' common brogans what dey made at +home. I ain't seed no socks 'til long atter de War. Co'se some folkses +mought a had 'em, but us didn't have none.</p> + +<p>"Marster Berry Bostwick an' Mist'ess Mary Bostwick, had a passel of +chillun, I don't 'member none 'cept young Marse John. De others drifted +off an' didn't come back, but young Marse John stayed on wid Old Marster +an' Old Mist'ess 'til dey died. Old Marster, he warn't good. Truth is de +light, an' he wuz one mean white man. Old Mist'ess wuz heaps better dan +him. Dar wuz 'bout 150 mens an' 75 'omans. I couldn't keep up wid de +chilluns. Dere wuz too many for me.</p> + +<p>"Marster an' Mist'ess lived in a big fine house, but de slave quarters +wuz made of logs, 'bout de size of box cyars wid two rooms.</p> + +<p>"'Bout dat overseer he wuz a mean man, if one ever lived. He got de +slaves up wid a gun at five o'clock an' wukked 'em 'til way atter +sundown, standin' right over 'em wid a gun all de time. If a Nigger +lagged or tuk his eyes off his wuk, right den an' dar he would make him +strip down his clo'es to his waist, an' he whup him wid a cat-o-nine +tails. Evvy lick dey struck him meant he wuz hit nine times, an' it +fotch da red evvy time it struck.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Yes Ma'am, dey had a cyar'iage driver, he didn't do much 'cept +look attar de hawses an' drive de white folkses 'roun'.</p> + +<p>"I done tole you 'bout dat overseer; all he done wuz sot 'roun' all day +wid a gun an' make de Niggers wuk. But I'se gwine tell you de trufe, he +sho' wuz poor white trash wid a house full of snotty-nose chilluns. Old +Marster tole him he wuz jus' lak a rabbit, he had so many chillun. I +means dis; if dem days comes back I hope de good Lord takes me fus'.</p> + +<p>"Dey had a house whar dey put de Niggers, what wuz called de gyard +house, an' us didn't know nothin' 'bout no jail dat day an' time. I seed +'em drive de Niggers by old Marster's place in droves takin' 'em to +Watkinsville. Morgan County, whar us lived, touched Oconee an' dat wuz +the nighes' town. One day I went wid old Marster to Watkinsville an' I +seed 'em sell Niggers on de block. I warn't sold. When I knowed nothin' +I wuz right whar I wuz at.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for de Niggers in dem days. If a Nigger +wuz seed wid a paper, de white folks would pretty nigh knock his head +off him.</p> + +<p>"Us didn't have no church in de country for Niggers, an' dey went to +church wid deir white folkses, if dey went a tall. De white folks sot in +front, an' de Niggers sot in de back. All de time dat overseer wuz right +dar wid his gun. When dey baptized de Niggers dey tuk 'em down to de +river and plunged 'em in, while dem what had done been baptized sang: +"Dar's a Love Feast in Heb'en Today."</p> + +<p>"Yes Ma'am, de white folkses had deir cemetery, an' dey had one for de +slaves. When dere wuz a funeral 'mong de Niggers us sung:</p> + +<pre> +'Dark was de night + And cold was de groun' + Whar my Marster was laid + De drops of sweat + Lak blood run down + In agony He prayed.' +</pre> + +<p>"Dem coffins sho' wuz mournful lookin' things, made out of pine boa'ds +an' painted wid lampblack; dey wuz black as de night. Dey wuz big at de +head an' little at de foot, sort a lak airplanes is. De inside wuz lined +wid white clawf, what dey spun on de plantation.</p> + +<p>"De patterollers wuz right on dey job. Slaves use' to frame up on 'em if +dey knowed whar dey wuz hidin', 'waitin' to cotch a Nigger. Dey would +git hot ashes an' dash over 'em, an' dem patterollers dey sho' would +run, but de slaves would git worse dan dat, if dey was cotched.</p> + +<p>"Miss, in slav'ry time when Niggers come from de fields at night dey +warn't no frolickin'. Dey jus' went to sleep. De mens wukked all day +Sadday, but de 'omans knocked off at twelve o'clock to wash an' sich +lak.</p> + +<p>"Christmas times dey give us a week off an' brung us a little candy an' +stuff 'roun'. Not much, not much. On New Year's Day us had to git back +on de job.</p> + +<p>"Chilluns what wuz big enough to wuk didn't have time in week days to +play no games on Marse Bostwick's place. On Sunday us played wid marbles +made out of clay, but dat's all. I heered my ma sing a little song to de +baby what soun' lak dis:</p> + +<pre> +'Hush little baby + Don't you cry + You'll be an angel + Bye-an'-bye.' +</pre> + +<p>"Yes Ma'am, dere wuz one thing dey wuz good 'bout. When de Niggers got +sick dey sont for de doctor. I heered 'em say dey biled jimson weeds an' +made tea for colds, an' rhubarb tea wuz to cure worms in chillun. I wuz +too young to be bothered 'bout witches an' charms, Rawhead an' Bloody +Bones an' sich. I didn't take it in.</p> + +<p>"When de Yankees come thoo' an' 'lowed us wuz free, us thought dey wuz +jus' dem patterollers, an' us made for de woods. Dey tole us to come +out, dat us wuz free Niggers. Marster Berry said: 'You dam Niggers am +free. You don't b'long to me no more.'</p> + +<p>"Us married long time atter de War, an' us had a little feast: cake, +wine, fried chicken, an' ham, an' danced 'til 'mos' daybreak. I 'members +how good she looked wid dat pretty dove colored dress, all trimmed wid +lace. Us didn't have no chillun. She wuz lak a tree what's sposen to +bear fruit an' don't. She died 'bout thirteen years ago.</p> + +<p>"When de Ku Kluxers come thoo', us chillun thought de devil wuz atter us +for sho'. I wuz sich a young chap I didn't take in what dey said 'bout +Mr. Abyham Lincoln, an' Mr. Jeff Davis. Us would a been slaves 'til yit, +if Mr. Lincoln hadn't sot us free. Dey wuz bofe of 'em, good mens. I +sho' had ruther be free. Who wants a gun over 'em lak a prisoner? A +pusson is better off dead.</p> + +<p>"I jined de church 'cause dis is a bad place at de bes' an' dere's so +many mean folkses, what's out to seem good an' ain't. An' if you serve +God in de right way, I'se sho' when you die he'll give you a place to +rest for evermore. An' 'cordin' to my notion dat's de way evvybody +oughta live."</p> + +<p>In conclusion, Alec said: "I don't want to talk no more. I'se +disappointed, I thought sho' you wuz one of dem pension ladies what come +for to fetch me some money. I sho' wish dey would come. Good-bye Miss." +Then he hobbled into the house.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BoudryNancy"></a> +<h3>Barragan-Harris<br> +[TR: Miss Maude Barragan (interviewer), Mrs. Leila Harris (editor)]<br> +<br> +NANCY BOUDRY, THOMSON, GEORGIA</h3> +<br> + +<p>"If I ain't a hunnard," said Nancy, nodding her white-turbaned head, "I +sho' is close to it, 'cause I got a grandson 50 years old."</p> + +<p>Nancy's silky white hair showed long and wavy under her headband. Her +gingham dress was clean, and her wrinkled skin was a reddish-yellow +color, showing a large proportion of Indian and white blood. Har eyes +ware a faded blue.</p> + +<p>"I speck I is mos' white," acknowledged Nancy, "but I ain't never knowed +who my father was. My mother was a dark color."</p> + +<p>The cottage faced the pine grove behind an old church. Pink ramblers +grew everywhere, and the sandy yard was neatly kept. Nancy's paralyzed +granddaughter-in-law hovered in the doorway, her long smooth braids +hanging over Indian-brown shoulders, a loose wrapper of dark blue denim +flowing around her tall unsteady figure. She was eager to taka part in +the conversation but hampered by a thick tongue induced, as Nancy put +it, "by a bad sore throat she ain't got over."</p> + +<p>Nancy's recollections of plantation days were colored to a somber hue by +overwork, childbearing, poor food and long working hours.</p> + +<p>"Master was a hard taskmaster," said Nancy. "My husband didn't live on +de same plantation where I was, de Jerrell places in Columbia County. He +never did have nuthin' to give me 'cause he never got nuthin'. He had to +come and ask my white folks for me. Dey had to carry passes everywhere +dey went, if dey didn't, dey'd git in trouble.</p> + +<p>"I had to work hard, plow and go and split wood jus' like a man. +Sometimes dey whup me. Dey whup me bad, pull de cloes off down to de +wais'—my master did it, our folks didn' have overseer.</p> + +<p>"We had to ask 'em to let us go to ohurch. Went to white folks church, +'tell de black folks get one of dere own. No'm I dunno how to read. +Never had no schools at all, didn' 'low us to pick up a piece paper and +look at it."</p> + +<p>"Nancy, wasn't your mistress kind to you?"</p> + +<p>"Mistis was sorta kin' to me, sometimes. But dey only give me meat and +bread, didn' give me nothin' good—I ain' gwine tell no story. I had a +heap to undergo wid. I had to scour at night at de Big House—two planks +one night, two more de nex'. De women peoples spun at night and reeled, +so many cuts a night. Us had to git up befo' daybreak be ready to go to +de fiel's.</p> + +<p>"My master didn' have but three cullud people, dis yuh was what I stayed +wid, my young master, had not been long married and dus' de han's dey +give him when he marry was all he had.</p> + +<p>"Didn' have no such house as dis," Nancy looked into the open door of +the comfortable octtage, "sometimes dey have a house built, it would be +daubed. Dus' one family, didn' no two families double up."</p> + +<p>"But the children had a good time, didn't they? They played games?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe dey did play ring games, I never had no time to see what games my +chillus play, I work so hard. Heap o' little chillun slep' on de flo'. +Never had no frolics neither, no ma'm, and didn' go to none. We would +have prayer meetings on Saturday nights, and one might in de week us had +a chairback preacher, and sometimes a regular preacher would come in."</p> + +<p>Nancy did not remember ever having seen the Patterollers.</p> + +<p>"I hearn talk of 'em you know, heap o' times dey come out and make out +like dey gwine shoot you at night, dey mus' been Patterollers, dey was +gettin' hold of a heap of 'em."</p> + +<p>"What did you do about funerals, Nancy?"</p> + +<p>"Dey let us knock off for funerals, I tell de truth. Us stay up all +night, singin' and prayin'. Dey make de coffin outter pine boards."</p> + +<p>"Did you suffer during the war?"</p> + +<p>"We done de bes' we could, we et what we could get, sometimes didn' have +nothin' to eat but piece of cornbread, but de white folks allus had +chicken."</p> + +<p>"But you had clothes to wear?"</p> + +<p>"Us had clothes 'cause we spun de thread and weaved 'em. Dey bought dem +dere great big ole brogans where you couldn' hardly walk in 'em. Not +like dese shoes I got on." Nancy thrust out her foot, easy in "Old +Ladies' Comforts."</p> + +<p>"When they told you were free, Nancy, did the master appear to be +angry?"</p> + +<p>"No'm, white folks didn' 'pear to be mad. My master dus' tole us we was +free. Us moved right off, but not so far I couldn' go backwards and +forwards to see 'um." (So it was evident that even if Nancy's life had +been hard, there was a bond between her and her former owners.) "I didn' +do no mo' work for 'um, I work for somebody else. Us rented land and +made what we could, so we could have little somethin' to eat. I scoured +and waited on white people in town, got little piece of money, and was +dus' as proud!"</p> + +<p>Nancy savored the recollection of her first earned money a moment, +thinking back to the old days.</p> + +<p>"I had a preacher for my second marriage," she continued, "Fo' chillun +died on me—one girl, de yuthers was babies. White doctor tended me."</p> + +<p>Asked about midwifery, Nancy smiled.</p> + +<p>"I was a midwife myself, to black and white, after freedom. De Thomson +doctors all liked me and tole people to 'git Nancy.' I used 'tansy +tea'—heap o' little root—made black pepper tea, fotch de pains on 'em. +When I would git to de place where I had a hard case, I would send for +de doctor, and he would help me out, yes, doctor help me out of all of +'em."</p> + +<p>Asked about signs and superstitions, Nancy nodded.</p> + +<p>"I have seed things. Day look dus' like a person, walkin' in de woods. I +would look off and look back to see it again and it be gone." Nancy +lowered her voice mysteriously, and looked back into the little room +where Vanna's unsteady figure moved from bed to chair. "I seed a coffin +floatin' in de air in dat room—" she shivered, "and I heard a heap o' +knockings. I dunno what it bees—but de sounds come in de house. I runs +ev'y squeech owl away what comes close, too." Nancy clasped her hands, +right thumb over left thumb, "does dat—and it goes on away—dey quits +hollerin', you chokin' 'em when you does dat."</p> + +<p>"Do you plant by the moon, Nancy?"</p> + +<p>"Plant when de moon change, my garden, corn, beans. I planted some +beans once on de wrong time of de moon and dey didn' bear nothing—I +hated it so bad, I didn' know what to do, so I been mindful ever since +when I plant. Women peoples come down on de moon, too. I ain't know no +signs to raise chillun. I whup mine when dey didn' do right, I sho' did. +I didn' 'low my chillun to take nothin'—no aigs and nothin' 'tall and +bring 'em to my house. I say 'put dem right whar you git 'em."</p> + +<p>"Did you sing spirituals, Nancy?"</p> + +<p>"I sang regular meetin' songs," she said, "like 'lay dis body down' and +'let yo' joys be known'—but I can't sing now, not any mo'."</p> + +<p>Nancy was proud of her quilt-making ability.</p> + +<p>"Git 'um, Vanna, let de ladies see 'um," she said; and when Vanna +brought the gay pieces made up in a "double-burst" (sunburst) pattern, +Nancy fingered the squares with loving fingers. "Hit's pooty, ain't it?" +she asked wistfully, "I made one for a white lady two years ago, but dey +hurts my fingers now—makes 'em stiff."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BradleyAlice"></a> +<a name="ColquittKizzie"></a> +<h3>FOLKLORE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +ALICE BRADLEY<br> +Hull Street near Corner of Hoyt Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +KIZZIE COLQUITT<br> +243 Macon Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Miss Grace McCune<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Mrs. Leila Harris<br> +Editor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +[APR 20 1938]</h3> + +<p>[TR: These two interviews were filed together, though not recorded at +the same place or time.]</p> +<br> + +<p><b>Alice Bradley</b></p> + +<p>Alice Bradley, or "Aunt Alice" as she is known to everybody, "runs +cards" and claims to be a seeress. Apologetic and embarrassed because +she had overslept and was straightening her room, she explained that she +hadn't slept well because a dog had howled all night and she was uneasy +because of this certain forerunner of disaster.</p> + +<p>"Here t'is Sunday mornin' and what wid my back, de dog, and de +rheumatics in my feets, its [TR: 'done' crossed out] too late to go to +church, so come in honey I'se glad to hab somebody to talk to. Dere is +sho' goin' to be a corpse close 'round here. One night a long time ago +two dogs howled all night long and on de nex' Sunday dere wuz two +corpses in de church at de same time. Dat's one sign dat neber fails, +when a dog howls dat certain way somebody is sho' goin' to be daid."</p> + +<p>When asked what her full name was, she said: "My whole name is Alice +Bradley now. I used to be a Hill, but when I married dat th'owed me out +of bein' a Hill, so I'se jus' a Bradley now. I wuz born on January 14th +but I don't 'member what year. My ma had three chillun durin' de war and +one jus' atter de war. I think dat las' one wuz me, but I ain't sho'. My +pa's name wuz Jim Hill, and ma's name wuz Ca'line Hill. Both of 'em is +daid now. Pa died October 12, 1896 and wuz 88 years old. Ma died +November 20, 1900; she wuz 80 years old. I knows dem years is right +'cause I got 'em from dat old fambly Bible so I kin git 'em jus' right. +One of my sisters, older dan I is, stays in Atlanta wid her son. Since +she los' one of her sons, her mind's done gone. My other sister ain't as +old as I is but her mind is all right and she is well."</p> + +<p>"I wuz raised in Washin'ton, Wilkes County, and de fust I 'members was +stayin' wid Miss Alice Rayle. She had three chillun and I nussed 'em. +One of de boys is a doctor now, and has a fambly of his own, and de las' +I heared of 'im, he wuz stayin' in Atlanta.</p> + +<p>"I'se been married' two times. I runned away wid Will Grisham, when I +wuz 'bout 14 years old. Mr. Carter, a Justice of de Peace, met us under +a 'simmon tree and tied de knot right dar. My folks ketched us, but us +wuz already married and so it didn't make no diffunce.</p> + +<p>"I lived on a farm wid my fust husband, and us had three chillun, but +dey is all gone now. I 'members when my oldes' gal wuz 'bout 2 years +old, dey wuz playin' out on de porch wid dey little dog, when a mad dog +come by and bit my chillun's dog. Folks kilt our dog, and jus' 'bout one +week atterwards my little gal wuz daid too. She did love dat little dog, +and he sho' did mind 'er. She jus' grieved herself to death 'bout dat +dog.</p> + +<p>"Atter my fust husband died, I married Rich Bradley. Rich wuz a railroad +man, and he went off to Washin'ton, D.C., to wuk. He sont me money all +de time den, but when he went from dar to Shecargo to wuk I didn't hear +from 'im long, and I don't know what's happened to 'im 'til now, for +it's been a long time since I heared from 'im.</p> + +<p>"I loves to run de cyards for my friends. I always tells 'em when I sees +dere's trouble in de cyards for 'em, and shows 'em how to git 'round it, +if I kin. None of de res' of my folks ever run de cyards, but I'se been +at it ever since I wuz jus' a little gal, pickin' up old wore out +cyards, dat had bean th'owed away, 'cause I could see things in 'em. I +'members one time when I wuz small and didn't know so good what de +cyards wuz tellin' me, dat a rich man, one of de riches' in Wilkes +County, wuz at our place, I tol 'im de cyards when I run 'em. I saw +sompin' wuz goin' to happen on his place, dat two colored mens would be +tangled up wid, but I didn't know jus' what wuz goin' to happen. And +sho' 'nuff, two colored mens sot fire to his barns and burned up all his +horses and mules, de onlies' thing dey saved wuz one ridin' horse. Dey +ketched de mens, and dey served time for what dey done. One of 'em died +way out yonder where dey sont 'em.</p> + +<p>"I 'members one white lady way out in Alabama sont a note axin' me to +run de cyards for her. I runned 'em and got one of my friends to writer +her what I seed. Dey had run bright and dat wuz good luck. One time I +runned de cyards for two sisters dat had done married two brothers, and +de cyards run so close kin date I wuz able to tell 'em how dey wuz +married and dey tol me dat I wuz right.</p> + +<p>"And jus' a few days ago a old man come to see me thinkin' dat he wuz +pizened. When I runned de cyards, I seed his trouble. He had been +drinkin' and wuz sick, so I jus' give him a big dose of soda and cream +of tartar and he got better. Den I tole him to go on home; dat nobody +hadn't done nothin' to 'im and all he needed wuz a little medicine.</p> + +<p>"I told Mr. Dick Armell of how he wuz goin' to git kilt if he went up in +his airyplane dat day and begged him not to try it but to wait. He +wouldn't listen and went on and got kilt jus' lak I tole 'im he would. I +runned de cyards for Mrs. Armell lots of times for I liked 'im, and he +wuz a fine man. I runned de cyards for 'im one time 'fore he went to de +World's Fair, and de cyards run bright, and his trip wuz a good one jus' +lak I tole 'im it would be.</p> + +<p>"All de old white folks dat I wuz raised up wid, de Hills from +Washin'ton, Wilkes, is gone now, 'cept I think one of de gals is wukin' +at de capitol in Atlanta, but she done married now and I don't 'member +her name."</p> + +<p>Alice excused herself to answer a knock at the door. Upon her return she +said: "Dat wuz one of my white chillun. I wukked for 'em so long and one +of 'em comes by every now an' den to see if I needs sompin'. Her ma done +had a new picture of herself took and wanted me to see it. Dey sho' is +good to me."</p> + +<p>Alice doesn't charge for "running the cards." She says she doesn't have +a license, and is very thankful for anything that visitors may care to +give her. She will not run the cards on Sunday. "Dat's bad luck," she +said. "Come back some day when tain't Sunday, and I'll see whats in de +cyards for you!"</p> +<br> + +<p><b>Kizzie Colquitt</b></p> + +<p>Old Aunt Kizzie Colquitt, about 75 years old, was busily washing in her +neat kitchen. She opened the door and window frequently to let out the +smoke, saying: "Dis old wore out stove don't draw so good." Her hands +and feet were badly swollen and she seemed to be suffering.</p> + +<p>"I'll be glad to tell all I kin 'member 'bout dem old times," she said. +"I wuz borned durin' de war, but I don't 'member what year. My pa wuz +Mitchell Long. He b'longed to Marster Sam Long of Elbert County. Us +lived on Broad River. My ma wuz Sallie Long, and she b'longed to Marster +Billie Lattimore. Dey stayed on de other side of Broad River and my pa +and ma had to cross de river to see one another. Atter de war wuz over, +and dey wuz free, my pa went to Jefferson, Georgia, and dar he died.</p> + +<p>"My ma married some nigger from way out in Indiana. He promised her he +would send money back for her chillun, but us never heered nothin' from +'im no mo'. I wuz wid' my w'ite folks, de Lattimores, when my ma died, +way out in Indiana.</p> + +<p>"Atter Marse Bob died, I stayed wid my old Missus, and slep' by her bed +at night. She wuz good to me, and de hardes' wuk I done wuz pickin' up +acorns to fatten de hogs. I stayed dar wid her 'til she died. Us had +plenty t'eat, a smokehouse filled wid hams, and all de other things us +needed. Dey had a great big fireplace and a big old time oven whar dey +baked bread, and it sho' wuz good bread.</p> + +<p>"My old Missus died when I wuz 'bout 6 years old, and I wus sont to +Lexin'ton, Georgia, to live wid my sister. Dere wuz jus' da two of us +chilluns. Den us wukked every day, and went to bed by dark; not lak de +young folks now, gallivantin' 'bout all night long.</p> + +<p>"When I wuz 'bout 14 I married and come to live on Dr. Willingham's +place. It wuz a big plantation, and dey really lived. When de crops wuz +all in and all de wuk done, dey had big times 'round dar.</p> + +<p>"Dere wuz de corn shuckin' wid one house for de corn and another house +for de shucks. Atter all de shuckin' wuz done, dere wuz eatin' and +dancin'. And it wuz eatin' too! Dey kilt hogs, barbecued 'em, and +roasted some wid apples in dey mouf's to give 'em a good flavor, and +course a little corn likker went wid it. Dey had big doin's at syrup +makin' time too, but dat wuz hard wuk den. Makin' syrup sho' wuz a heap +of trouble.</p> + +<p>"Later us lived wid de Johnson fambly, and atter my old man died, I come +to dis town wid de Johnsons. Dere wuz three chilluns, Percy, Lewis, and +a gal. I stayed wid 'em 'til de chilluns wuz all growed up and +eddicated. All my other w'ite folks is gone; my sister done gone too, +and my son; all de chillun dat I had, deys done daid too.</p> + +<p>"Now I has to wash so I kin live. I used to have plenty, but times is +changed and now sometimes I don't have nothin' but bread, and jus' bread +is hard to git, heap of de time.</p> + +<p>"I put in for one of dem old age pensions, but dey ain't give me nothin' +yet, so I jus' wuk when I kin, and hope dat it won't be long 'fore I has +plenty again."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BriscoeDella"></a> +<h3>OLD SLAVE STORY<br> +<br> +DELLA BRISCOE<br> +Macon, Georgia<br> +<br> +By Adella S. Dixon [HW: (Colored)]<br> +[JUL 28 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Della Briscoe, now living in Macon, is a former slave of Mr. David Ross, +who owned a large plantation in Putnam County. Della, when a very tiny +child, was carried there with her father and mother, Sam and Mary Ross. +Soon after their arrival the mother was sent to work at the "big house" +in Eatonton. This arrangement left Della, her brother and sister to the +care of their grandmother, who really posed as their mother. The +children grew up under the impression that their mother was an older +sister and did not know the truth until just after the close of the +Civil War, when the mother became seriously ill and called the children +to her bedside to tell them goodbye.</p> + +<p>Mr. David Ross had a large family and was considered the richest planter +in the county. Nearly every type of soil was found on his vast estate, +composed of hilly sections as well as acres of lowlands. The highway +entering Eatonton divided the plantation and, down this road every +Friday, Della's father drove the wagon to town with a supply of fresh +butter, for Mrs. Ross' thirty head of cows supplied enough milk to +furnish the city dwellers with butter.</p> + +<p>Refrigeration was practically unknown, so a well was used to keep the +butter fresh. This cool well was eighty feet deep and passed through a +layer of solid rock. A rope ladder was suspended from the mouth of the +well to the place where the butter was lowered for preservation. For +safety, and to shield it from the sun, reeds were planted all around +the well. And as they grew very tall, a stranger would not suspect a +well being there.</p> + +<p>In addition to marketing, Della's father trapped beavers which were +plentiful in the swampy part of the plantation bordering the Oconee, +selling their pelts to traders in the nearby towns of Augusta and +Savannah, where Mr. Ross also marketed his cotton and large quantities +of corn. Oxen, instead of mules, were used to make the trips to market +and return, each trip consuming six or seven days.</p> + +<p>The young children were assigned small tasks, such as piling brush in +"new grounds", carrying water to field hands, and driving the calves to +pasture.</p> + +<p>Punishment was administered, though not as often as on some plantations. +The little girl, Della, was whipped only once—for breaking up a +turkey's nest she had found. Several were accused of this, and because +the master could not find the guilty party, he whipped each of the +children.</p> + +<p>Crime was practically unknown and Mr. Ross' slaves never heard of a jail +until they were freed.</p> + +<p>Men were sometimes placed in "bucks", which meant they were laid across +blocks with their hands and feet securely tied. An iron bar was run +between the blocks to prevent any movement; then, after being stripped, +they were whipped. Della said that she knew of but one case of this type +of punishment being administered a Ross slave. Sickness was +negligible—childbirth being practically the only form of a Negro +woman's "coming down".</p> + +<p>As a precaution against disease, a tonic was given each slave every +spring. Three were also, every spring, taken from the field each day +until every one had been given a dose of calomel and salts. Mr. Ross +once bought two slaves who became ill with smallpox soon after their +arrival. They were isolated in a small house located in the center of a +field, while one other slave was sent there to nurse them. All three +were burned to death when their hut was destroyed by fire.</p> + +<p>In case of death, even on a neighboring place, all work was suspended +until the dead was buried.</p> + +<p>Sunday, the only day of rest, was often spent in attending religious +services, and because these were irregularly held, brush arbor meetings +were common. This arbor was constructed of a brush roof supported by +posts and crude joists. The seats were usually made of small saplings +nailed to short stumps.</p> + +<p>Religion was greatly stressed and every child was christened shortly +after its birth. An adult who desired to join the church went first to +the master to obtain his permission. He was then sent to the home of a +minister who lived a short distance away at a place called Flat Rock. +Here, his confession was made and, at the next regular service, he was +formally received into the church.</p> + +<p>Courtships were brief.</p> + +<p>The "old man", who was past the age for work and only had to watch what +went on at the quarters, was usually the first to notice a budding +friendship, which he reported to the master. The couple was then +questioned and, if they consented, were married without the benefit of +clergy.</p> + +<p>Food was distributed on Monday night, and for each adult slave the +following staple products were allowed—</p> + +<pre> + Weekly ration: On Sunday: +3-1/2 lbs. meat One qt. syrup +1 pk. of meal One gal. flour +1 gal. shorts One cup lard +</pre> + +<p>Vegetables, milk, etc., could be obtained at the "big house", but fresh +meat and chickens were never given. The desire for these delicacies +often overcame the slaves' better natures, and some frequently went +night foraging for small shoats and chickens.</p> + +<p>The "old man" kept account of the increase or decrease in live stock and +poultry and reported anything missing each day. When suspicion fell on a +visitor of the previous night, this information was given to his master, +who then searched the accused's dinner pail and cabin. If meat was found +in either the culprit was turned over to his accuser for punishment. +After being whipped, he was forbidden for three months to visit the +plantation where he had committed the theft.</p> + +<p>One of Della's grandmother's favorite recipes was made of dried beef and +wheat. The wheat was brought from the field and husked by hand. This, +added to the rapidly boiling beef, was cooked until a mush resulted, +which was then eaten from wooden bowls with spoons of the same material. +White plates were never used by the slaves.</p> + +<p>Cloth for clothing was woven on the place. Della's grandmother did most +of the spinning, and she taught her child to spin when she was so small +that she had to stand on a raised plank to reach the wheel. After the +cloth was spun it was dyed with dye made from "shoemake" (sumac) leaves, +green walnuts, reeds, and copperas. One person cut and others sewed. The +dresses for women were straight, like slips, and the garments of the +small boys resembled night shirts. If desired, a bias fold of +contrasting colour was placed at the waist line or at the bottom of +dresses. The crudely made garments were starched with a solution of +flour or meal and water which was strained and then boiled.</p> + +<p>As a small child Della remembers hearing a peculiar knock on the door +during the night, and a voice which replied to queries, "No one to hurt +you, but keep that red flannel in your mouth. Have you plenty to eat? +Don't worry; you'll be free." No one would ever tell, if they knew, to +whom this voice belonged.</p> + +<p>Just before the beginning of the Civil War a comet appeared which was so +bright that the elder people amused themselves by sitting on the rail +fence and throwing pins upon the ground where the reflection was cast. +The children scrambled madly to see who could find the most pins.</p> + +<p>During the early part of the war Mr. Ross fought with the Confederates, +leaving his young son, Robert, in charge of his affairs. The young +master was very fond of horses and his favorite horse—"Bill"—was +trained to do tricks. One of these was to lie down when tickled on his +flanks. The Yankees visited the plantation and tried to take this horse. +Robert, who loved him dearly, refused to dismount, and as they were +about to shoot the horse beneath him, the slaves began to plead. They +explained that the boy was kind to every one and devoted to animals, +after which explanation, he was allowed to keep his horse.</p> + +<p>The breastworks at Savannah required many laborers to complete their +construction, and as the commanders desired to save the strength of +their soldiers, slave labor was solicited. Two slaves from each nearby +plantation were sent to work for a limited number of days. The round +trip from the Ross plantation required seven days.</p> + +<p>Nearly every man had a family and when they returned from these long +trips they drove to the quarters and fell on their knees to receive the +welcome caresses of their small children.</p> + +<p>Recreational facilities were not provided and slave children had little +knowledge of how to play. Their two main amusements were building frog +houses and sliding down a steep bank on a long board. One day, as they +played up and down the highway, building frog houses at irregular +intervals, little Della looked up and saw a group of Yankee calvarymen +approaching. She screamed and began running and so attracted the +attention of Mr. Ross who was at home on a furlough.</p> + +<p>He saw the men in time to find a hiding place. Meanwhile, the soldiers +arrived and the leader, springing from his horse, snatched Della up and +spanked her soundly for giving the alarm, as they had hoped to take her +master by surprise. Della said this was the first "white slap" she ever +received.</p> + +<p>Some of the Yankees entered the house, tore up the interior, and threw +the furniture out doors. Another group robbed the smokehouse and smashed +so many barrels of syrup that it ran in a stream through the yard. They +carried much of the meat off with them and gave the remainder to the +slaves. Chickens were caught, dressed, and fried on the spot as each +soldier carried his own frying pan, and a piece of flint rock and a +sponge with which to make a fire. The men were skilled in dressing fowls +and cleaned them in a few strokes.</p> + +<p>When they had eaten as much as they desired, a search for the corral was +made, but the mules were so well hidden that they were not able to find +them. Della's father's hands were tied behind him and he was then forced +to show them the hiding place. These fine beasts, used for plowing, were +named by the slaves who worked them. Characteristic names were: "Jule", +"Pigeon", "Little Deal", "Vic", (the carriage horse), "Streaked leg," +"Kicking Kid", "Sore-back Janie". Every one was carried off.</p> + +<p>This raid took place on Christmas Eve and the slaves were frantic as +they had been told that Yankees were mean people, especially was Sherman +so pictured.</p> + +<p>When Sherman had gone, Mr. Ross came from his hiding place in the "cool +well" and spoke to his slaves. To the elder ones he said, "I saw you +give away my meat and mules."</p> + +<p>"Master, we were afraid. We didn't want to do it, but we were afraid not +to."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand that you could not help yourselves." He then turned +to the children, saying, "Bless all of you, but to little Della, I owe +my life. From now on she shall never be whipped, and she shall have a +home of her own for life."</p> + +<p>She shook with laughter as she said, "Master thought I screamed to warn +him and I was only frightened."</p> + +<p>True to his word, after freedom he gave her a three-acre plot of land +upon which he built a house and added a mule, buggy, cow, hogs, etc. +Della lived there until after her marriage, when she had to leave with +her husband. She later lost her home. Having been married twice, she now +bears the name of Briscoe, her last husband's name.</p> + +<p>When the family had again settled down to the ordinary routine, a new +plague, body lice, said to have been left by the invaders, made life +almost unbearable for both races.</p> + +<p>Della now lives with her granddaughter, for she has been unable to work +for twenty-eight years. Macon's Department of Public Welfare assists in +contributing to her livelihood, as the granddaughter can only pay the +room rent.</p> + +<p>She does not know her age but believes that she is above ninety. Her +keen old eyes seemed to look back into those bygone days as she said, "I +got along better den dan I eber hab since. We didn't know nuthin 'bout +jail houses, paying for our burial grounds, and de rent. We had plenty +o' food."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BrooksGeorge"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br> +Ex. Slv. #11]<br> +<br> +GEORGE BROOKS, EX-SLAVE<br> +Date of birth: Year unknown (See below)<br> +Place of birth: In Muscogee County, near Columbus, Georgia<br> +Present Residence: 502 East 8th Street, Columbus, Georgia<br> +Interviewed: August 4, 1936<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>This old darky, probably the oldest ex-slave in West Georgia, claims to +be 112 years of age. His colored friends are also of the opinion that he +is fully that old or older—but, since none of his former (two) owners' +people can be located, and no records concerning his birth can be found, +his definite age cannot be positively established.</p> + +<p>"Uncle" George claims to have worked in the fields, "some", the year the +"stars fell"—1833.</p> + +<p>His original owner was Mr. Henry Williams—to whom he was greatly +attached. As a young man, he was—for a number of years—Mr. Williams' +personal body-servant. After Mr. Williams' death—during the 1850's, +"Uncle" George was sold to a white man—whose name he doesn't +remember—of Dadeville, Alabama, with whom he subsequently spent five +months in the Confederate service.</p> + +<p>One of "Uncle" George's stories is to the effect that he once left a +chore he was doing for his second "Marster's" wife, "stepped" to a +nearby well to get a drink of water and, impelled by some strange, +irresistible "power", "jes kep on walkin 'til he run slap-dab inter de +Yankees", who corraled him and kept him for three months.</p> + +<p>Still another story he tells is that of his being sold after freedom! +According to his version of this incident, he was sold along with two +bales of cotton in the fall of 1865—either the cotton being sold and he +"thrown in" with it, or vice versa—he doesn't know which, but he +<i>does know</i> that he and the cotton were "sold" together! And very +soon after this transaction occurred, the seller was clapped in jail! +Then, "somebody" (he doesn't remember who) gave him some money, put him +on a stage-coach at night and "shipped" him to Columbus, where he +learned that he was a free man and has since remained.</p> + +<p>"Uncle" George has been married once and is the father of several +children. His wife, however, died fifty-odd years ago and he knows +nothing of the whereabouts of his children—doesn't even know whether or +not any of them are living, having lost "all track o'all kin fokes too +long ago to tawk about."</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, "Uncle" George's mind is clouded and his memory badly +impaired, otherwise his life story would perhaps be quite interesting. +For more than twenty years, he has been supported and cared for by kind +hearted members of his race, who say that they intend to continue "to +look after the old man 'til he passes on."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BrownEaster"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +EASTER BROWN<br> +1020 S. Lumpkin Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written By:<br> +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby<br> +<br> +Edited By:<br> +John N. Booth<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +WPA Residency No. 7</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Aunt" Easter Brown, 78 years old, was sweeping chips into a basket out +in front of her cabin. "Go right in honey, I'se comin' soon as I git +some chips for my fire. Does I lak to talk 'bout when I wuz a chile? I +sho does. I warn't but 4 years old when de war wuz over, but I knows all +'bout it."</p> + +<p>"I wuz born in Floyd County sometime in October. My pa wuz Erwin and my +ma wuz Liza Lorie. I don't know whar dey come from, but I knows dey wuz +from way down de country somewhars. Dere wuz six of us chilluns. All of +us wuz sold. Yessum, I wuz sold too. My oldest brother wuz named Jim. I +don't riccolec' de others, dey wuz all sold off to diffunt parts of de +country, and us never heared from 'em no more. My brother, my pa and me +wuz sold on de block in Rome, Georgia. Marster Frank Glenn buyed me. I +wuz so little dat when dey bid me off, dey had to hold me up so folkses +could see me. I don't 'member my real ma and pa, and I called Marster +'pa' an' Mist'ess 'ma', 'til I wuz 'bout 'leven years old.</p> + +<p>"I don't know much 'bout slave quarters, or what dey had in 'em, 'cause +I wuz raised in de house wid de white folkses. I does know beds in de +quarters wuz lak shelves. Holes wuz bored in de side of de house, two in +de wall and de floor, and poles runnin' from de wall and de floor, +fastened together wid pegs; on 'em dey put planks, and cross de foot of +de bed dey put a plank to hold de straw and keep de little 'uns from +fallin' out.</p> + +<p>"What did us have to eat? Lordy mussy! Mist'ess! us had everything. +Summertime dere wuz beans, cabbage, squashes, irish 'tatoes, roas'en +ears, 'matoes, cucumbers, cornbread, and fat meat, but de Nigger boys, +dey wuz plum fools 'bout hog head. In winter dey et sweet 'tatoes, +collards, turnips and sich, but I et lak de white folkses. I sho does +lak 'possums and rabbits. Yessum, some of de slaves had gyardens, some +of 'em sholy did.</p> + +<p>"No'm, us Niggers never wore no clothes in summer, I means us little +'uns. In de winter us wore cotton clothes, but us went barefoots. My +uncle Sam and some of de other Niggers went 'bout wid dey foots popped +open from de cold. Marster had 110 slaves on his plantation.</p> + +<p>"Mist'ess wuz good to me. Pa begged her to buy me, 'cause she wuz his +young Mist'ess and he knowed she would be good to me, but Marster wuz +real cruel. He'd beat his hoss down on his knees and he kilt one of 'em. +He whupped de Niggers when dey didn't do right. Niggers is lak dis; dey +wuz brought to dis here land wild as bucks, and dey is lak chicken +roosters in a pen. You just have to make 'em 'have deyselves. Its lak +dat now; if dey'd 'have deyselves, white folkses would let 'em be.</p> + +<p>"Dere warn't no jails in dem days. Dey had a gyuard house what dey +whupped 'em in, and Mondays and Tuesdays wuz set aside for de whuppin's, +when de Niggers what had done wrong got so many lashes, 'cordin' to what +devilment dey had been doin'. De overseer didn't do de whuppin', Marster +done dat. Dem patterrollers wuz sompin else. Mankind! If dey ketched a +Nigger out atter dark widout no pass dey'd most nigh tear de hide offen +his back.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what dat overseer done one night. Some enemy of Marster's +sot fire to de big frame house whar him and Mist'ess and de chillun +lived. De overseer seed it burnin', and run and clam up de tree what wuz +close to de house, went in de window and got Marster's two little gals +out dat burnin' house 'fore you could say scat. Dat sho fixed de +overseer wid old Marster. Atter dat Marster give him a nice house to +live in but Marster's fine old house sho wuz burnt to de ground.</p> + +<p>"De cyarriage driver wuz uncle Sam. He drove de chillun to school, tuk +Marster and Mist'ess to church, and done de wuk 'round de house; such +as, totin' in wood, keepin' de yards and waitin' on de cook. No'm us +slaves didn't go to church; de Niggers wuz so wore out on Sundays, dey +wuz glad to stay home and rest up, 'cause de overseer had 'em up way +'fore day and wuked 'em 'til long atter dark. On Saddays dey had to wash +deir clothes and git ready for de next week. Some slaves might a had +special things give to 'em on Christmas and New Years Day, but not on +Marster's plantation; dey rested up a day and dat wuz all. I heared tell +dey had Christmas fixin's and doin's on other plantations, but not on +Marse Frank's place. All corn shuckin's, cotton pickin's, log rollin's, +and de lak was when de boss made 'em do it, an' den dere sho warn't no +extra sompin t'eat.</p> + +<p>"De onliest game I ever played wuz to take my doll made out of a stick +wid a rag on it and play under a tree. When I wuz big 'nough to wuk, +all I done wuz to help de cook in de kitchen and play wid old Mist'ess' +baby.</p> + +<p>"Some of de Niggers runned away. Webster, Hagar, Atney, an' Jane runned +away a little while 'fore freedom. Old Marster didn't try to git 'em +back, 'cause 'bout dat time de war wuz over. Marster and Mist'ess sho +looked atter de Niggers when dey got sick for dey knowed dat if a Nigger +died dat much property wuz lost. Yessum, dey had a doctor sometime, but +de most dey done wuz give 'em hoarhound, yellow root and tansy. When a +baby wuz cuttin' teeth, dey biled ground ivy and give 'em.</p> + +<p>"Louisa, de cook wuz married in de front yard. All I 'members 'bout it +wuz dat all de Niggers gathered in de yard, Louisa had on a white dress; +de white folkses sho fixed Louisa up, 'cause she wuz deir cook.</p> + +<p>"Jus' lemme tell you 'bout my weddin' I buyed myself a dress and had it +laid out on de bed, den some triflin', no 'count Nigger wench tuk and +stole it 'fore I had a chance to git married in it. I had done buyed dat +dress for two pupposes; fust to git married in it, and second to be +buried in. I stayed on wid Old Miss 'til I got 'bout grown and den I +drifted to Athens. When I married my fust husband, Charlie Montgomery, I +wuz wukkin' for Mrs. W.R. Booth, and us married in her dinin' room. +Charlie died out and I married James Hoshier. Us had one baby. Hit wuz a +boy. James an' our boy is both daid now and I'se all by myself.</p> + +<p>"What de slaves done when dey wuz told dat dey wuz free? I wuz too +little to know what dey meant by freedom, but Old Marster called de +overseer and told him to ring de bell for de Niggers to come to de big +house. He told 'em dey wuz free devils and dey could go whar dey pleased +and do what dey pleased—dey could stay wid him if dey wanted to. Some +stayed wid Old Marster and some went away. I never seed no yankee +sojers. I heared tell of 'em comin' but I never seed none of 'em.</p> + +<p>"No'm I don't know nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Booker T. Washington +or Jefferson Davis. I didn't try to ketch on to any of 'em. As for +slavery days; some of de Niggers ought to be free and some oughtn't to +be. I don't know nuttin much 'bout it. I had a good time den, and I gits +on pretty good now.</p> + +<p>"How come I jined de church? Well I felt lak it wuz time for me to live +better and git ready for a home in de next world. Chile you sho has axed +me a pile of questions, and I has sho 'joyed tellin' you what I knowed."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BrownJulia"></a> +<h3>JULIA BROWN (Aunt Sally)<br> +710 Griffin Place, N.W.<br> +Atlanta, Ga.<br> +July 25, 1936[TR:?]<br> +<br> +by<br> +Geneva Tonsill</h3> + +<p>[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.]</p> +<br> + +<p><b>AH ALWAYS HAD A HARD TIME</b></p> + +<p>Aunt Sally rocked back and forth incessantly. She mopped her wrinkled +face with a dirty rag as she talked. "Ah wuz born fo' miles frum +Commerce, Georgia, and wuz thirteen year ole at surrender. Ah belonged +to the Nash fambly—three ole maid sisters. My mama belonged to the +Nashes and my papa belonged to General Burns; he wuz a officer in the +war. There wuz six of us chilluns, Lucy, Malvina, Johnnie, Callie, Joe +and me. We didn't stay together long, as we wuz give out to different +people. The Nashes didn't believe in selling slaves but we wuz known as +their niggers. They sold one once 'cause the other slaves said they +would kill him 'cause he had a baby by his own daughter. So to keep him +frum bein' kilt, they sold him.</p> + +<p>"My mama died the year of surrender. Ah didn't fare well after her +death, Ah had sicha hard time. Ah wuz give to the Mitchell fambly and +they done every cruel thing they could to me. Ah slept on the flo' nine +years, winter and summer, sick or well. Ah never wore anything but a +cotton dress, a shimmy and draw's. That 'oman didn't care what happened +to the niggers. Sometimes she would take us to church. We'd walk to the +church house. Ah never went nowhere else. That 'oman took delight in +sellin' slaves. She'd lash us with a cowhide whip. Ah had to shift fur +mahself.</p> + +<p>"They didn't mind the slaves matin', but they wanted their niggers to +marry only amongst them on their place. They didn't 'low 'em to mate +with other slaves frum other places. When the wimmen had babies they wuz +treated kind and they let 'em stay in. We called it 'lay-in', just about +lak they do now. We didn't go to no horspitals as they do now, we jest +had our babies and had a granny to catch 'em. We didn't have all the +pain-easin' medicines then. The granny would put a rusty piece of tin +or a ax under the mattress and this would ease the pains. The granny put +a ax under my mattress once. This wuz to cut off the after-pains and it +sho did too, honey. We'd set up the fifth day and after the 'layin-in' +time wuz up we wuz 'lowed to walk out doors and they tole us to walk +around the house jest once and come in the house. This wuz to keep us +frum takin' a 'lapse.</p> + +<p>"We wuzn't 'lowed to go around and have pleasure as the folks does +today. We had to have passes to go wherever we wanted. When we'd git out +there wuz a bunch of white men called the 'patty rollers'. They'd come +in and see if all us had passes and if they found any who didn't have a +pass he wuz whipped; give fifty or more lashes—and they'd count them +lashes. If they said a hundred you got a hundred. They wuz somethin' lak +the Klu Klux. We wuz 'fraid to tell our masters about the patty rollers +because we wuz skeered they'd whip us again, fur we wuz tole not to +tell. They'd sing a little ditty. Ah wish Ah could remember the words, +but it went somethin' lak this:</p> + +<pre> +'Run, Niggah, run, de Patty Rollers'll git you, + Run Niggah, ran, you'd bettah git away.' +</pre> + +<p>"We wuz 'fraid to go any place.</p> + +<p>"Slaves ware treated in most cases lak cattle. A man went about the +country buyin' up slaves lak buyin' up cattle and the like, and he wuz +called a 'speculator', then he'd sell 'em to the highest bidder. Oh! it +wuz pitiful to see chil'en taken frum their mothers' breast, mothers +sold, husbands sold frum wives. One 'oman he wuz to buy had a baby, and +of course the baby come befo' he bought her and he wouldn't buy the +baby; said he hadn't bargained to buy the baby too, and he jest +wouldn't. My uncle wuz married but he wuz owned by one master and his +wife wuz owned by another. He wuz 'lowed to visit his wife on Wednesday +and Saturday, that's the onliest time he could git off. He went on +Wednesday and when he went back on Saturday his wife had been bought by +the speculator and he never did know where she wuz.</p> + +<p>"Ah worked hard always. Honey, you can't 'magine what a hard time Ah +had. Ah split rails lak a man. How did Ah do it? Ah used a huge glut, +and a iron wedge drove into the wood with a maul, and this would split +the wood.</p> + +<p>"Ah help spin the cotton into thread fur our clothes. The thread wuz +made into big broaches—four broaches made four cuts, or one hank. After +the thread wuz made we used a loom to weave the cloth. We had no sewin' +machine—had to sew by hand. My mistress had a big silver bird and she +would always catch the cloth in the bird's bill and this would hold it +fur her to sew.</p> + +<p>"Ah didn't git to handle money when I wuz young. Ah worked frum sunup to +sundown. We never had overseers lak some of the slaves. We wuz give so +much work to do in a day and if the white folks went off on a vacation +they would give us so much work to do while they wuz gone and we better +have all of that done too when they'd come home. Some of the white folks +wuz very kind to their slaves. Some did not believe in slavery and some +freed them befo' the war and even give 'em land and homes. Some would +give the niggers meal, lard and lak that. They made me hoe when Ah wuz a +chile and Ah'd keep rat up with the others, 'cause they'd tell me that +if Ah got behind a run-a-way nigger would git me and split open my head +and git the milk out'n it. Of course Ah didn't know then that wuzn't +true—Ah believed everything they tole me and that made me work the +harder.</p> + +<p>"There wuz a white man, Mister Jim, that wuz very mean to the slaves. +He'd go 'round and beat 'em. He'd even go to the little homes, tear down +the chimneys and do all sorts of cruel things. The chimneys wuz made of +mud 'n straw 'n sticks; they wuz powerful strong too. Mister Jim wuz +jest a mean man, and when he died we all said God got tired of Mister +Jim being so mean and kilt him. When they laid him out on the coolin' +board, everybody wuz settin' 'round, moanin' over his death, and all of +a sudden Mister Jim rolled off'n the coolin' board, and sich a runnin' +and gittin' out'n that room you never saw. We said Mister Jim wuz tryin' +to run the niggers and we wuz 'fraid to go about at night. Ah believed +it then; now that they's 'mbalmin' Ah know that must have been gas and +he wuz purgin', fur they didn't know nothin' 'bout 'mbalmin' then. They +didn't keep dead folks out'n the ground long in them days.</p> + +<p>"Doctors wuzn't so plentiful then. They'd go 'round in buggies and on +hosses. Them that rode on a hoss had saddle pockets jest filled with +little bottles and lots of them. He'd try one medicine and if it didn't +do not [TR: no?] good he'd try another until it did do good and when the +doctor went to see a sick pusson he'd stay rat there until he wuz +better. He didn't jest come in and write a 'scription fur somebody to +take to a drug store. We used herbs a lots in them days. When a body had +dropsy we'd set him in a tepid bath made of mullein leaves. There wuz a +jimson weed we'd use fur rheumatism, and fur asthma we'd use tea made of +chestnut leaves. We'd git the chestnut leaves, dry them in the sun jest +lak tea leaves, and we wouldn't let them leaves git wet fur nothin' in +the world while they wuz dryin'. We'd take poke salad roots, boil them +and then take sugar and make a syrup. This wuz the best thing fur +asthma. It was known to cure it too. Fur colds and sich we used +ho'hound; made candy out'n it with brown sugar. We used a lots of rock +candy and whiskey fur colds too. They had a remedy that they used fur +consumption—take dry cow manure, make a tea of this and flavor it with +mint and give it to the sick pusson. We didn't need many doctors then +fur we didn't have so much sickness in them days, and nachelly they +didn't die so fast; folks lived a long time then. They used a lot of +peachtree leaves too for fever, and when the stomach got upsot we'd +crush the leaves, pour water over them and wouldn't let them drink any +other kind of water 'till they wuz better. Ah still believes in them ole +ho'made medicines too and ah don't believe in so many doctors.</p> + +<p>"We didn't have stoves plentiful then: just ovens we set in the +fireplace. Ah's toted a many a armful of bark—good ole hickory bark to +cook with. We'd cook light bread—both flour and corn. The yeast fur +this bread wuz made frum hops. Coals of fire wuz put on top of the oven +and under the bottom, too. Everything wuz cooked on coals frum a wood +fire—coffee and all. Wait, let me show you my coffee tribet. Have you +ever seen one? Well, Ah'll show you mine." Aunt Sally got up and hobbled +to the kitchen to get the trivet. After a few moments search she came +back into the room.</p> + +<p>"No, it's not there. Ah guess it's been put in the basement. Ah'll show +it to you when you come back. It's a rack made of iron that the pot is +set on befo' puttin' it on the fire coals. The victuals wuz good in them +days; we got our vegetables out'n the garden in season and didn't have +all the hot-house vegetables. Ah don't eat many vegetables now unless +they come out'n the garden and I know it. Well, as I said, there wuz +racks fitted in the fireplace to put pots on. Once there wuz a big pot +settin' on the fire, jest bilin' away with a big roast in it. As the +water biled, the meat turned over and over, comin' up to the top and +goin' down again, Ole Sandy, the dog, come in the kitchen. He sot there +a while and watched that meat roll over and over in the pot, and all of +a sudden-like he grabbed at that meat and pulls it out'n the pot. +'Course he couldn't eat it 'cause it wuz hot and they got the meat befo' +he et it. The kitchen wuz away frum the big house, so the victuals wuz +cooked and carried up to the house. Ah'd carry it up mahse'f. We +couldn't eat all the different kinds of victuals the white folks et and +one mornin' when I was carryin' the breakfast to the big house we had +waffles that wuz a pretty golden brown and pipin' hot. They wuz a +picture to look at and ah jest couldn't keep frum takin' one, and that +wuz the hardest waffle fur me to eat befo' I got to the big house I ever +saw. Ah jest couldn't git rid of that waffle 'cause my conscience +whipped me so.</p> + +<p>"They taught me to do everything. Ah'd use battlin' blocks and battlin' +sticks to wash the clothes; we all did. The clothes wuz taken out of the +water an put on the block and beat with a battlin' stick, which was made +like a paddle. On wash days you could hear them battlin' sticks poundin' +every which-away. We made our own soap, used ole meat and grease, and +poured water over wood ashes which wuz kept in a rack-like thing and the +water would drip through the ashes. This made strong lye. We used a lot +'o sich lye, too, to bile with.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes the slaves would run away. Their masters wuz mean to them +that caused them to run away. Sometimes they would live in caves. How +did they get along? Well, chile, they got along all right—what with +other people slippin' things in to 'em. And, too, they'd steal hogs, +chickens, and anything else they could git their hands on. Some white +people would help, too, fur there wuz some white people who didn't +believe in slavery. Yes, they'd try to find them slaves that run away +and if they wuz found they'd be beat or sold to somebody else. My +grandmother run away frum her master. She stayed in the woods and she +washed her clothes in the branches. She used sand fur soap. Yes, chile, +I reckon they got 'long all right in the caves. They had babies in thar +and raised 'em too.</p> + +<p>"Ah stayed with the Mitchells 'til Miss Hannah died. Ah even helped to +lay her out. Ah didn't go to the graveyard though. Ah didn't have a home +after she died and Ah wandered from place to place, stayin' with a white +fambly this time and then a nigger fambly the next time. Ah moved to +Jackson County and stayed with a Mister Frank Dowdy. Ah didn't stay +there long though. Then Ah moved to Winder, Georgia. They called it 'Jug +Tavern' in them days, 'cause jugs wuz made there. Ah married Green +Hinton in Winder. Got along well after marryin' him. He farmed fur a +livin' and made a good livin' fur me and the eight chilluns, all born in +Winder. The chilluns wuz grown nearly when he died and wuz able to help +me with the smalles ones. Ah got along all right after his death and +didn't have sich a hard time raisin' the chilluns. Then Ah married Jim +Brown and moved to Atlanta. Jim farmed at first fur a livin' and then he +worked on the railroad—the Seaboard. He helped to grade the first +railroad track for that line. He wuz a sand-dryer."</p> + +<p>Aunt Sally broke off her story here. "Lord, honey, Ah got sich a pain in +mah stomach Ah don't believe Ah can go on. It's a gnawin' kind of pain. +Jest keeps me weak all over." Naturally I suggested that we complete the +story at another time. So I left, promisin' to return in a few days. A +block from the house I stopped in a store to order some groceries for +Aunt Sally. The proprietress, a Jewish woman, spoke up when I gave the +delivery address. She explained in broken English that she knew Aunt +Sally.</p> + +<p>"I tink you vas very kind to do dis for Aunt Sally. She neets it. I +often gif her son food. He's very old and feeble. He passed here +yesterday and he look so wasted and hungry. His stomick look like it vas +drawn in, you know. I gif him some fresh hocks. I know dey could not eat +all of them in a day and I'm afrait it von't be goof [TR: goot? or +good?] for dem today. I vas trained to help people in neet. It's pert of +my religion. See, if ve sit on de stritcar and an olt person comes in +and finds no seat, ve get up and gif him one. If ve see a person loaded +vid bundles and he iss old and barely able to go, ve gif a hand. See, ve +Jews—you colored—but ve know no difference. Anyvon neeting help, ve +gif."</p> + +<p>A couple of days later I was back at Aunt Sally's. I had brought some +groceries for the old woman. I knocked a long time on the front door, +and, getting no answer, I picked my way through the rank growth of weeds +and grass surrounding the house and went around to the back door. It +opened into the kitchen, where Aunt Sally and her son were having +breakfast. The room was small and dark and I could hardly see the +couple, but Aunt Sally welcomed me. "Lawd, honey, you come right on in. +I tole John I heard somebody knockin' at the do'."</p> + +<p>"You been hearin' things all mornin'," John spoke up. He turned to me. +"You must've been thinkin' about mamma just when we started eatin' +breakfast because she asked me did I hear somebody call her. I tole her +the Lawd Jesus is always a-callin' poor niggers, but she said it sounded +like the lady's voice who was here the other day. Well I didn't hear +anything and I tole her she mus' be hearin' things."</p> + +<p>I'd put the bag of groceries on the table unobtrusively, but Aunt Sally +wasn't one to let such gifts pass unnoticed. Eagerly she tore the bag +open and began pulling out the packages. "Lawd bless you, chile, and He +sho will bless you! I feels rich seein' what you brought me. Jest look +at this—Lawdy mercy!—rolls, butter, milk, balogny...! Oh, this +balogny, jest looky there! You must a knowed what I wanted!" She was +stuffing it in her mouth as she talked. "And these aigs...! Honey, you +knows God is goin' to bless you and let you live long. Ah'se goin' to +cook one at a time. And Ah sho been wantin' some milk. Ah'se gonna cook +me a hoecake rat now."</p> + +<p>She went about putting the things in little cans and placing them on +shelves or in the dilapidated little cupboard that stood in a corner. I +sat down near the door and listened while she rambled on.</p> + +<p>"Ah used to say young people didn't care bout ole folks but Ah is takin' +that back now. Ah jest tole my son the other day that its turned round, +the young folks thinks of the ole and tries to help 'em and the ole +folks don't try to think of each other; some of them, they is too mean. +Ah can't understand it; Ah jest know I heard you call me when Ah started +to eat, and tole my son so. Had you been to the do' befo'?" She talked +on not waiting for a reply. "Ah sho did enjoy the victuals you sent day +befo' yistidy. They send me surplus food frum the gove'nment but Ah +don't like what they send. The skim milk gripes me and Ah don't like +that yellow meal. A friend brought me some white meal t'other day. And +that wheat cereal they send! Ah eats it with water when Ah don't have +milk and Ah don't like it but when you don't have nothin' else you got +to eat what you have. They send me 75¢ ever two weeks but that don't go +very fur. Ah ain't complainin' fur Ah'm thankful fur what Ah git.</p> + +<p>"They send a girl to help me around the house, too. She's frum the +housekeepin' department. She's very nice to me. Yes, she sho'ly is a +sweet girl, and her foreman is sweet too. She comes in now 'n then to +see me and see how the girl is gittin' along. She washes, too. Ah's been +on relief a long time. Now when Ah first got on it wuz when they first +started givin' me. They give me plenty of anything Ah asked fur and my +visitor wuz Mrs. Tompkins. She wuz so good to me. Well they stopped that +and then the DPW (Department of Public Welfare) took care of me. When +they first started Ah got more than I do now and they've cut me down +'till Ah gits only a mighty little.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ah wuz talkin' about my husband when you wuz here t'other day. He +wuz killed on the railroad. After he moved here he bought this home. +Ah'se lived here twenty years. Jim wuz comin' in the railroad yard one +day and stepped off the little engine they used for the workers rat in +the path of the L. & M. train. He wuz cut up and crushed to pieces. He +didn't have a sign of a head. They used a rake to git up the pieces they +did git. A man brought a few pieces out here in a bundle and Ah wouldn't +even look at them. Ah got a little money frum the railroad but the +lawyer got most of it. He brought me a few dollars out and tole me not +to discuss it with anyone nor tell how much Ah got. Ah tried to git some +of the men that worked with him to tell me just how it all happened, but +they wouldn't talk, and it wuz scand'lous how them niggers held their +peace and wouldn't tell me anything. The boss man came out later but he +didn't seem intrusted in it at all, so Ah got little or nothing fur his +death. The lawyer got it fur hisse'f.</p> + +<p>"All my chilluns died 'cept my son and he is ole and sick and can't do +nothin' fur me or hisse'f. He gets relief too, 75¢ every two weeks. He +goes 'round and people gives him a little t'eat. He has a hard time +tryin' to git 'long.</p> + +<p>"Ah had a double bed in t'other room and let a woman have it so she +could git some of the delegates to the Baptist World Alliance and she +wuz goin' to pay me fur lettin' her use the bed, but she didn't git +anybody 'cept two. They come there on Friday and left the next day. She +wuz tole that they didn't act right 'bout the delegates and lots of +people went to the expense to prepare fur them and didn't git a one. Ah +wuz sorry, for Ah intended to use what she paid me fur my water bill. Ah +owes $3.80 and had to give my deeds to my house to a lady to pay the +water bill fur me and it worries me 'cause Ah ain't got no money to pay +it, fur this is all Ah got and Ah hates to loose my house. Ah wisht it +wuz some way to pay it. Ah ain't been able to do fur mahse'f in many +years now, and has to depend on what others gives me.</p> + +<p>"Tell you mo' about the ole times? Lawd, honey, times has changed so +frum when Ah was young. You don't hear of haints as you did when I +growed up. The Lawd had to show His work in miracles 'cause we didn't +have learnin' in them days as they has now. And you may not believe it +but them things happened. Ah knows a old man what died, and after his +death he would come to our house where he always cut wood, and at night +we could hear a chain bein' drug along in the yard, jest as if a big +log-chain wuz bein' pulled by somebody. It would drag on up to the +woodpile and stop, then we could hear the thump-thump of the ax on the +wood. The woodpile was near the chimney and it would chop-chop on, then +stop and we could hear the chain bein' drug back the way it come. This +went on fur several nights until my father got tired and one night after +he heard it so long, the chop-chop, papa got mad and hollered at the +haint, 'G---- D---- you, go to hell!!!' and that spirit went off and +never did come back!</p> + +<p>"We'd always know somebody wuz goin' to die when we heard a owl come to +a house and start screechin'. We always said, 'somebody is gwine to +die!' Honey, you don't hear it now and it's good you don't fur it would +skeer you to death nearly. It sounded so mo'nful like and we'd put the +poker or the shovel in the fire and that always run him away; it burned +his tongue out and he couldn't holler no more. If they'd let us go out +lak we always wanted to, Ah don't 'spects we'd a-done it, 'cause we wuz +too skeered. Lawdy, chile, them wuz tryin' days. Ah sho is glad God let +me live to see these 'uns.</p> + +<p>"Ah tried to git the ole-age pension fur Ah sho'ly needed it and wuz +'titled to it too. Sho wuz. But that visitor jest wouldn't let me go +through. She acted lak that money belonged to her. Ah 'plied when it +first come out and shoulda been one of the first to get one. Ah worried +powerful much at first fur Ah felt how much better off Ah'd be. Ah +wouldn't be so dependent lak Ah'm is now. Ah 'spects you know that +'oman. She is a big black 'oman—wuz named Smith at first befo' she +married. She is a Johns now. She sho is a mean 'oman. She jest wouldn't +do no way. Ah even tole her if she let me go through and Ah got my +pension Ah would give her some of the money Ah got, but she jest didn't +do no way. She tole me if Ah wuz put on Ah'd get no more than Ah +<i>wuz</i> gittin'. Ah sho believes them thats on gits more'n 75¢ every +two weeks. Ah sho had a hard time and a roughety road to travel with her +my visitor until they sent in the housekeeper. Fur that head 'oman jest +went rat out and got me some clothes. Everything Ah needed. When Ah tole +her how my visitor wuz doin' me she jest went out and come rat back with +all the things Ah needed. Ah don't know why my visitor done me lak that. +Ah said at first it wuz because Ah had this house but honey what could +Ah do with a house when Ah wuz hongry and not able to work. Ah always +worked hard. 'Course Ah didn't git much fur it but Ah lak to work fur +what Ah gits."</p> + +<p>Aunt Sally was beginning to repeat herself and I began to suspect she +was talking just to please me. So I arose to go.</p> + +<p>"Lawsy mercy, chile, you sho is sweet to set here and talk to a ole +'oman lak me. Ah sho is glad you come. Ah tole my son you wuz a bundle +of sunshine and Ah felt so much better the day you left—and heah you is +again! Chile, my nose wuzn't itchin' fur nothin'! You come back to see +me real soon. Ah'se always glad to have you. And the Lawd's gonna sho go +with you fur bein' so good to me."</p> + +<p>My awareness of the obvious fulsomeness in the old woman's praise in no +way detracted from my feeling of having done a good deed. Aunt Sally was +a clever psychologist and as I carefully picked my way up the weedy path +toward the street, I felt indeed that the "Lawd" was "sho goin'" with +me.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="BunchJulia"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +JULIA BUNCH, Age 85<br> +Beech Island<br> +South Carolina<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Res. 6 & 7<br> +[MAY 10 1938]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Seated in a comfortable chair in the living room of her home, Julia +Bunch, Negress of 85 years, presented a picture of the old South that +will soon pass away forever. The little 3-room house, approachable only +on foot, was situated on top of a hill. Around the clean-swept yard, +petunias, verbena, and other flowers were supplemented by a large patch +of old-fashioned ribbon grass. A little black and white kitten was +frisking about and a big red hen lazily scratched under a big shade tree +in search of food for her brood. Julia's daughter, who was washing +"white people's clothes" around the side of the house, invited us into +the living room where her mother was seated.</p> + +<p>The floors of the front porch and the living room were scrubbed +spotlessly clean. There was a rug on the floor, while a piano across one +corner, a chifforobe with mirrored doors, a bureau, and several +comfortable chairs completed the room's furnishings. A motley assortment +of pictures adorning the walls included: <i>The Virgin Mother</i>, +<i>The Sacred Bleeding Heart</i>, several large family photographs, two +pictures of the Dionne Quintuplets, and one of President Roosevelt.</p> + +<p>Julia was not very talkative, but had a shy, irresistible chuckle, and +it was this, together with her personal appearance and the tidiness of +her home that left an indelible impression on the minds of her visitors. +Her skin was very dark, and her head closely wrapped in a dark bandana, +from which this gray hair peeped at intervals forming a frame for her +face. She was clad in a black and white flowered print dress and a dark +gray sweater, from which a white ruffle was apparent at the neck. Only +two buttons of the sweater were fastened and it fell away at the waist +displaying her green striped apron. From beneath the long dress, her +feet were visible encased in men's black shoes laced with white strings. +Her ornaments consisted of a ring on her third finger, earrings, and +tortoise-rimmed glasses which plainly displayed their dime-store origin.</p> + +<p>"I b'longed to Marse Jackie Dorn of Edgefield County, I was gived to him +and his wife when dey was married for a weddin' gift. I nussed deir +three chilluns for 'em and slep' on a couch in dier bedroom 'til I was +12 years old, den 'Mancipation come. I loved 'em so and stayed wid 'em +for four years atter freedom and when I left 'em I cried and dem +chilluns cried.</p> + +<p>"Yassir, dey was sho' good white people and very rich. Dere warn't +nothin' lackin' on dat plantation. De big house was part wood and part +brick, and de Niggers lived in one or two room box houses built in rows. +Marse Jackie runned a big grist mill and done de grindin' for all de +neighbors 'round 'bout. Three or four Niggers wukked in de mill all de +time. Us runned a big farm and dairy too.</p> + +<p>"Dere was allus plenty t'eat 'cause Marster had a 2-acre gyarden and a +big fruit orchard. Two cooks was in de kitchen all de time. Dey cooked +in a big fireplace, but us had big ovens to cook de meat, biscuits and +lightbread in. Us made 'lasses and syrup and put up fruits just lak dey +does now.</p> + +<p>"My Ma was head weaver. It tuk two or three days to set up de loom +'cause dere was so many little bitty threads to be threaded up. Us had +dyes of evvy color. Yassir, us could make wool cloth too. De sheeps was +sheered once a year and de wool was manufactured up and us had a loom +wid wheels to spin it into thread.</p> + +<p>"Old Marster never whupped nobody and dere was only one man dat I kin +'member dat de overseer whupped much and he 'served it 'cause he would +run away in spite of evvything. Dey would tie him to a tree way down in +de orchard and whup him."</p> + +<p>Julia kept repeating and seemed anxious to impress upon the minds of her +visitors that her white folks were good and very rich. "Yassir, my white +folks had lots of company and visited a lot. Dey rode saddle horses and +had deir own carriages wid a high seat for de driver. Nosir, she didn't +ride wid hoopskirts—you couldn't ride wid dem on.</p> + +<p>"Us bought some shoes from de market but dere was a travelin' shoemaker +dat wukked by days for all de folks. He was a slave and didn't git no +money; it was paid to his Marster. Us had our own blacksmith dat wukked +all de time.</p> + +<p>"De slaves from all de plantations 'round come to our corn shuckin's. Us +had 'em down in de orchard. Lots of white folks comed too. Dey kilt hogs +and us had a big supper and den us danced. Nosir, dere warn't no toddy, +Marse didn't b'lieve in dat, but dey would beat up apples and us drinked +de juice. It sho' was sweet too.</p> + +<p>"Folks done dey travelin' in stages and hacks in dem days. Each of de +stages had four hosses to 'em. When de cotton and all de other things +was ready to go to market, dey would pack 'em and bring 'em to Augusta +wid mules and wagons. It would take a week and sometimes longer for de +trip, and dey would come back loaded down wid 'visions and clothes, and +dere was allus a plenty for all de Niggers too.</p> + +<p>"De white folks allus helped deir Niggers wid de weddin's and buyed deir +clothes for 'em. I 'members once a man friend of mine come to ax could +he marry one of our gals. Marster axed him a right smart of questions +and den he told him he could have her, but he mustn't knock or cuff her +'bout when he didn't want her no more, but to turn her loose.</p> + +<p>"Us had a big cemetery on our place and de white folks allus let deir +Niggers come to de fun'rals. De white folks had deir own sep'rate +buryin' ground, but all de coffins was home-made. Even de ones for de +settlement peoples was made right in our shop. Yassum, dey sung at de +fun'rals and you wants me to sing. I can't sing, but I'll try a little +bit." Then with a beautiful and peculiar rhythm only attained by the +southern Negro, she chanted:</p> + +<pre> +'Come-ye-dat-love-de-Lord<br> + And-let-your-joys-be-known.' +</pre> + +<p>"A rooster crowin' outside your door means company's comin' and a +squinch owl means sho' death. Dose are all de signs I kin 'member and I +don't 'member nothin' 'bout slavery remedies.</p> + +<p>"Yassir, dey useter give us a nickel or 10 cents sometimes so us could +buy candy from de store." Asked if she remembered patterollers she gave +her sly chuckle and said: "I sho' does. One time dey come to our house +to hunt for some strange Niggers. Dey didn't find 'em but I was so +skeered I hid de whole time dey was dar. Yassir, de Ku Kluxers raised +cain 'round dar too.</p> + +<p>"I 'members de day well when Marster told us us was free. I was glad +and didn't know what I was glad 'bout. Den 'bout 200 Yankee soldiers +come and dey played music right dar by de roadside. Dat was de fust drum +and fife music I ever heared. Lots of de Niggers followed 'em on off wid +just what dey had on. None of our Niggers went and lots of 'em stayed +right on atter freedom.</p> + +<p>"Four years atter dat, I left Edgefield and come here wid my old man. Us +had six chilluns. My old man died six years ago right dar 'cross de road +and I'se livin' here wid my daughter. I can't wuk no more. I tried to +hoe a little out dar in de field last year and I fell down and I hasn't +tried no more since.</p> + +<p>"I went once not so long ago to see my white folkses. Dey gived me a +dollar to spend for myself and I went 'cross de street and buyed me some +snuff—de fust I had had for a long time. Dey wanted to know if I had +ever got de old age pension and said dat if I had been close to dem I +would have had it 'fore now."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ButlerMarshal"></a> +<h3>[HW: Ex. Slv. #6]<br> +<br> +[HW: MARSHAL BUTLER]<br> +Subject: Slavery Days And After<br> +District: No. 1 W.P.A.<br> +Editor and Research: Joseph E. Jaffee<br> +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee<br> +<br> +[HW: (This copy has photog. attached.)]</h3> +<br> + +<p><b>Slavery Days And After</b></p> + +<p>I'se Marshal Butler, [HW: 88] years old and was born on December 25. I +knows it was Christmas Day for I was a gift to my folks. Anyhow, I'se +the only niggah that knows exactly how old he be. I disremembers the +year but you white folks can figure et out.</p> +<br> +<a name="img_MB"></a> + +<center><p> +<img src='images/mbutler.jpg' width='230' height='424' alt='Marshal Butler'> +</p></center> +<br> + +<p>My mammy was Harriet Butler and my pappy was John Butler and we all was +raised in Washington-Wilkes.</p> + +<p>Mammy was a Frank Collar niggah and her man was of the tribe of Ben +Butler, some miles down de road. Et was one of dem trial +marriages—they'se tried so hard to see each other but old Ben Butler +says two passes a week war enuff to see my mammy on de Collar +plantation. When de war was completed pappy came home to us. We wuz a +family of ten—four females called Sally, Liza, Ellen and Lottie and six +strong bucks called Charlie, Elisha, Marshal, Jack, Heywood and little +Johnnie, [TR: 'cuz he war' marked out] de baby.</p> + +<p>De Collar plantation wuz big and I don't know de size of it. Et must +have been big for dere war [HW: 250] niggahs aching to go to work—I +guess they mus' have been aching after de work wuz done. Marse Frank +bossed the place hisself—dere war no overseers. We raised cotton, corn, +wheat and everything we un's et. Dere war no market to bring de goods +to. Marse Frank wuz like a foodal lord of back history as my good for +nothing grandson would say—he is the one with book-larning from +Atlanta. Waste of time filling up a nigger's head with dat trash—what +that boy needs is muscle-ology—jes' look at my head and hands.</p> + +<p>My mammy was maid in de Collar's home and she had many fine +dresses—some of them were give to her by her missus. Pappy war a field +nigger for ole Ben Butler and I worked in the field when I wuz knee high +to a grasshopper. We uns et our breakfast while et war dark and we +trooped to the fields at sun-up, carrying our lunch wid us. Nothing +fancy but jes' good rib-sticking victuals. We come in from the fields at +sun-down and dere were a good meal awaiting us in de slave quarters. My +good Master give out rations every second Monday and all day Monday wuz +taken to separate the wheat from the chaff—that is—I mean the victuals +had to be organized to be marched off to de proper depository.</p> + +<p>Before we uns et we took care of our mules. I had a mule named George—I +know my mule—he was a good mule.</p> + +<pre> +"Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee, this mornin'. + Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee. + An' I hit him across the head with + the single-tree, so soon." +</pre> + +<p>Yes, Boss-man I remembers my mule.</p> + +<p>Marse Frank gave mammy four acres of ground to till for herself and us +childrens. We raised cotton—yes-sah! one bale of it and lots of garden +truck. Our boss-man give us Saturday as a holiday to work our four +acres.</p> + +<p>All the niggers worked hard—de cotton pickers had to pick 200 pounds of +cotton a day and if a nigger didn't, Marse Frank would take de nigger to +the barn and beat him with a switch. He would tell de nigger to hollow +loud as he could and de nigger would do so. Then the old Mistress would +come in and say! "What are you doing Frank?" "Beating a nigger" would be +his answer. "You let him alone, he is my nigger" and both Marse Frank +and de whipped nigger would come out of the barn. We all loved Marse and +the Mistress. No, we wuz never whipped for stealing—we never stole +anything in dose days—much.</p> + +<p>We sure froliked Saturday nights. Dat wuz our day to howl and we howled. +Our gals sure could dance and when we wuz thirsty we had lemonade and +whiskey. No sah! we never mixed [HW: no] whiskey with [HW: no] +water.—Dem dat wanted lemonade got it—de gals all liked it. Niggers +never got drunk those days—we wuz scared of the "Paddle-Rollers." +Um-m-h and swell music. A fiddle and a tin can and one nigger would beat +his hand on the can and another nigger would beat the strings on the +[HW: fiddle] [TR: 'can' marked out.] with broom straws. It wuz almos' +like a banjo. I remembers we sung "Little Liza Jane" and "Green Grows +the Willow Tree". De frolik broke up in de morning—about two +o'clock—and we all scattered to which ever way we wuz going.</p> + +<p>We put on clean clothes on Sunday and go to church. We went to de white +church. Us niggars sat on one side and de white folks sat on the other. +We wuz baptized in de church—de "pool-room" wuz right in de church.</p> + +<p>If we went visiting we had to have a pass. If nigger went out without a +pass de "Paddle-Rollers" would get him. De white folks were the +"Paddle-Rollers" and had masks on their faces. They looked like niggers +wid de devil in dere eyes. They used no paddles—nothing but straps—wid +de belt buckle fastened on.</p> + +<p>Yes sah! I got paddled. Et happened dis way. I'se left home one Thursday +to see a gal on the Palmer plantation—five miles away. Some gal! No, I +didn't get a pass—de boss was so busy! Everything was fine until my +return trip. I wuz two miles out an' three miles to go. There come de +"Paddle-Rollers" I wuz not scared—only I couldn't move. They give me +thirty licks—I ran the rest of the way home. There was belt buckles all +over me. I ate my victuals off de porch railing. Some gal! Um-m-h. Was +worth that paddlin' to see that gal—would do it over again to see Mary +de next night.</p> + +<pre> +"O Jane! love me lak you useter, + O Jane! chew me lak you useter, + Ev'y time I figger, my heart gits bigger, + Sorry, sorry, can't be yo' piper any mo". +</pre> + +<p>Um-m-mh—Some gal!</p> + +<p>We Niggers were a healthy lot. If we wuz really sick Marse Frank would +send for Doctor Fielding Ficklin of Washington. If jus' a small cold de +nigger would go to de woods and git catnip and roots and sich things. If +tummy ache—dere was de Castor oil—de white folks say children cry for +it—I done my cryin' afterwards. For sore throat dere was alum. +Everybody made their own soap—if hand was burned would use soap as a +poultice and place it on hand. Soap was made out of grease, potash and +water and boiled in a big iron pot. If yo' cut your finger use kerozene +wid a rag around it. Turpentine was for sprains and bad cuts. For +constipation use tea made from sheep droppings and if away from home de +speed of de feet do not match de speed of this remedy.</p> + +<p>No, boss, I'se not superstitious and I'se believe in no signs. I jes' +carry a rabbits' foot for luck. But I do believe the screeching of an +owl is a sign of death. I found et to be true. I had an Uncle named +Haywood. He stayed at my house and was sick for a month but wasn't so +bad off. One night uncle had a relapse and dat same night a screech owl +come along and sat on de top of de house and he—I mean the +owl,—"whooed" three times and next morning uncle got "worser" and at +eleven o'clock he died.</p> + +<p>I does believe in signs. When de rooster crows in the house it is sign +of a stranger coming. If foot itches you is going to walk on strange +land. If cow lows at house at night death will be 'round de house in +short time. If sweeping out ashes at night dat is bad luck for you is +sweeping out your best friend. Remember, your closest friend is your +worst enemy.</p> + +<p>If you want to go a courtin'—et would take a week or so to get your +gal. Sometimes some fool nigger would bring a gal a present—like +"pulled-candy" and sich like. I had no time for sich foolishness. You +would pop the question to boss man to see if he was willing for you to +marry de gal. There was no minister or boss man to marry you—no +limitations at all. Boss man would jes say: "Don't forget to bring me a +little one or two for next year" De Boss man would fix a cottage for +two and dere you was established for life.</p> + +<pre> +"If you want to go a courtin', I sho' you where to go, + Right down yonder in de house below, + Clothes all dirty an' ain't got no broom, + Ole dirty clothes all hangin' in de room. + Ask'd me to table, thought I'd take a seat, + First thing I saw was big chunk o'meat. + Big as my head, hard as a maul, + ash-cake, corn bread, bran an' all." +</pre> + +<p>Marse Frank had plenty of visitors to see him and his three gals was +excuse for anyone for miles around to come trompin' in. He enterained +mostly on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I remembers them nights for what +was left over from de feasts the niggers would eat.</p> + +<p>Dr. Fielding Ficklen [TR: earlier, 'Ficklin'], Bill Pope, Judge +Reese,—General Robert Toombs and Alexander Stephens from +Crawfordville—all would come to Marse Franks' big house.</p> + +<p>General Robert Toombs lived in Washington and had a big plantation 'bout +a mile from de city. He was a farmer and very rich. De General wuz a big +man—'bout six feet tall—heavy and had a full face. Always had +unlighted cigar in his mouth. He was the first man I saw who smoked ten +cent cigars. Niggers used to run to get "the stumps" and the lucky +nigger who got the "stump" could even sell it for a dime to the other +niggers for after all—wasn't it General Toombs' cigar? The General +never wore expensive clothes and always carried a crooked-handled +walking stick. I'se never heard him say "niggah", never heard him cuss. +He always helped us niggars—gave gave us nickles and dimes at times.</p> + +<p>Alexander Stephens wuz crippled. He was a little fellow—slim, dark hair +and blue eyes. Always used a rolling chair. Marse Frank would see him at +least once a month.</p> + +<p>I'se saw a red cloud in de west in 1860. I knew war was brewing. Marse +Frank went to war. My uncle was his man and went to war with him—Uncle +brought him back after the battle at Gettsburg—wounded. He died later. +We all loved him. My mistress and her boys ran de plantation.</p> + +<p>The blue-coats came to our place in '62 and 63. They took everythin' +that was not red-hot or nailed down. The war made no changes—we did the +same work and had plenty to eat. The war was now over. We didn't know we +wuz free until a year later. I'se stayed on with Marse Frank's boys for +twenty years. I'se did the same work fo $35 to $40 a year with rations +thrown in.</p> + +<p>I lived so long because I tells no lies, I never spent more than fifty +cents for a doctor in my life. I believe in whiskey and that kept me +going. And let me tell you—I'se always going to be a nigger till I die.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ByrdSarah"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br> +Ex. Slave #13]<br> +<br> +AN INTERVIEW ON SLAVERY OBTAINED FROM<br> +MRS. SARAH BYRD—EX-SLAVE</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Sarah Byrd claims to be 95 years of age but the first impression +one receives when looking at her is that of an old lady who is very +active and possessing a sweet clear voice. When she speaks you can +easily understand every word and besides this, each thought is well +expressed. Often during the interview she would suddenly break out in a +merry laugh as if her own thoughts amused her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sarah Byrd was born in Orange County Virginia the youngest of three +children. During the early part of her childhood her family lived in +Virginia her mother Judy Newman and father Sam Goodan each belonging to +a different master. Later on the family became separated the father was +sold to a family in East Tennessee and the mother and children were +bought by Doctor Byrd in Augusta, Georgia. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked +"Chile in them days so many families were broke up and some went one way +and der others went t'other way; and you nebber seed them no more. +Virginia wuz a reg'lar slave market."</p> + +<p>Dr. Byrd owned a large plantation and raised such products as peas +potatoes, cotton corn (etc). There were a large number of slaves. Mrs. +Byrd was unable to give the exact number but remarked. "Oh Lordy Chile I +nebber could tell just how many slaves that man had t'wuz too many uv +em."</p> + +<p>The size of the plantation required that the slaves be classified +according to the kind of work each was supposed to do. There were the +"cotton pickers", the "plow hands," the "hoe hands," the "rail +splitters," etc. "My very fust job," remarked Mrs. Byrd, "wuz that uv +cotton picking." Mrs Byrd's mother was a full [TR: field?] hand.</p> + +<p>Houses on the Byrd Plantation were made of logs and the cracks were +daubed with mud. The chimnies were made of mud and supported by sticks.</p> + +<p>Each fireplace varied in length from 3 to 4 feet because they serve the +purpose of stoves; and the family meals were prepared in those large +fireplaces often two and three pots were suspended from a rod running +across the fireplace. Most of the log houses consisted of one room; +however if the family was very large two rooms were built. The +furnishings consisted only of a home-made table, benches, and a +home-made bed, the mattress of which was formed by running ropes from +side to side forming a framework. Mattresses were made by filling a tick +with wheatstraw. The straw was changed each season. Laughing Mrs. Byrd +remarked, "Yessirree, them houses wuz warmer than some are ter day."</p> + +<p>Doctor Byrd was rather kind and tried to help his slaves as much as +possible, but according to Mrs. Byrd his wife was very mean and often +punished her slaves without any cause. She never gave them anything but +the coarsest foods. Although there of plenty of milk and butter, she +only gave it to the families after it had soured. "Many a day I have +seed butter just sittin around in pans day after day till it got good +and spoiled then she would call some uv us and give it ter us. Oh she +wuz a mean un," remarked Mrs. Byrd. Continuing Mrs. Byrd remarked "she +would give us bread that had been cooked a week." Mr. Byrd gave his +slave families good clothes. Twice a year clothing was distributed among +his families. Every June summer clothes were given and every October +winter clothes were given. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked "I nebber knowed what +it wuz not ter have a good pair uv shoes." Cloth for the dresses and +shirts was spun on the plantation by the slaves.</p> + +<p>The treatment of the slaves is told in Mrs. Byrd's own words:</p> + +<p>"We wuz always treated nice by Master Byrd and he always tried ter save +us punishment at the hands uv his wife but that 'oman wuz somethin' +nother. I nebber will ferget once she sent me after some brush broom and +told me ter hurry back. Well plums wuz jest gitting ripe so I just took +my time and et all the plums I wanted after that I come on back ter the +house. When I got there she called me upstairs, 'Sarah come here.' Up +the steps I went and thar she stood with that old cow hide. She struck +me three licks and I lost my balance and tumbled backward down the +stairs. I don't know how come I didn't hurt myself but the Lord wuz wid +me and I got up and flew. I could hear her just hollering 'Come back +here! come back here!' but I ant stop fer nothing. That night at supper +while I wuz fanning the flies from the table she sed ter the doctor. +'Doctor what you think? I had ter whip that little devil ter day. I sent +her after brush broom and she went off and eat plums instead of hurrying +back.' The doctor just looked at her and rolled his eyes but never sed a +word. There wuz very little whipping on Byrd's plantation, but I have +gone ter bed many a night and heard 'em gittin whipped on the plantation +next ter us. If dey runned away they would put the hounds on 'em." +Concluding her story on treatmeant Mrs. Byrd remarked "Yessirree I could +tell that 'oman wuz mean the first time I seed her after we came from +Virginia cause she had red eyes." "Pader rollers" stayed busy all the +time trying to find slaves off their plantations without passes. +Marriages were performed by having the couple jump the broom. If the +[TR: 'couple' deleted, handwritten words above illegible] belonged to +different masters oftentimes one master would purchase the other; but +should neither wish to sell the man would then have to get passes to +visit his wife on her plantation. "Dey would leave the plantation on +Saturday afternoons and on Sunday afternoon you could see 'em coming in +just lak they wuz coming from church," remarked Mrs. Byrd.</p> + +<p>There were frolics on the Byrd plantation any time that the slaves chose +to have them. "Yes sir we could frolic all we want ter. I use ter be so +glad when Saturday night came cause I knowed us wuz go have a frolic and +I wouldn't have a bit 'uv appetite I would tell my ma we gwine dance ter +night I dont want nothin teet. Yes sir us would frolic all night long +sometimes when the sun rise on Sunday morning us would all be layin +round or settin on the floor. They made music on the banjo, by knocking +bones, and blowing quills."</p> + +<p>The Byrds did not provide a church on their plantation for their slaves +neither were they allowed to attend the white church; instead they had +prayer meetings in their own cabins where they could sing pray and +shout as much as they wished. "I nebber will fergit the last prayer +meeting us had," remarked Mrs. Byrd. "Two woman named Ant Patsy and Ant +Prudence came over from the next plantation. I believed they slipped +over there wid out gittin a pass. Anyway, they old master came there and +whipped 'em and made 'em go home. I reckin he thought us wuz praying ter +git free." Continuing—</p> + +<p>I nebber will fergit the fust time I set eyes on them thar Yankees. I +done already heard 'bout how they wuz going round ter the different +plantations taking the horses and carrying away the money and other +valuable things, but they had nebber come ter our place. So this day I +saw 'em coming cross the railroad track and they look jest lack thunder +there wuz so meny 'uv em. When they got ter our house every body wuz +sleep and they knocked and knocked. We had a bad dog that didn't take no +foolishness off nobody, so when he kept barking them Yankees cursed him +and do you know he heshed up? I sid, 'Dear Lord what sort of man is that +all he got ter do is curse that dog and he don't even growl.' Well, when +they finally got in all they wanted wuz ter know if Mr. Byrd could help +feed the soldiers until Monday. Mr. Byrd told 'em he would. Soon after +that the war ended and we wuz called ter gether and told us wuz free. +Some uv'em stayed there and some uv'em left. Us left and moved ter +another plantation."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Byrd who had previously given the writer an interview on folk-lore +asked the writer to return at a later date and she would try to think up +more information concerning superstitions, conjure, etc. The writer +thanked her for the interview and promised to make another visit soon.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CallawayMariah"></a> +<h3>Ex-Slave #18<br> +<br> +INTERVIEW WITH (MRS.) MARIAH CALLAWAY EX-SLAVE</h3> + +<p>[TR: A significant portion of this interview was repeated in typescript; +where there was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used. Where a +completely different word was substituted, 'the original' refers to the +typewritten page.]</p> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Mariah Callaway sat in a chair opposite the writer and told her +freely of the incidents of slavery as she remembered them. To a casual +observer it will come as a surprise to know the woman was blind. She is +quite old, but her thoughts were clearly and intelligently related to +the writer.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Callaway was born in Washington, Wilkes County, Georgia probably +during the year 1852, as she estimated her age to be around 12 or 13 +years when freedom was declared. She does not remember her mother and +father, as her mother died the second day after she was born, so the job +of rearing her and a small brother fell on her grandmother, Mariah +Willis, for whom she was named. Mrs. Callaway stated that the old +master, Jim Willis, kept every Negro's age in a Bible: but after he died +the Bible was placed upstairs in the gallery and most of the pages were +destroyed. The following is a story of the purchase of Mrs. Callaway's +grandfather as related by her.</p> + +<p>"My grandfather come directly from Africa and I never shall forget the +story he told us of how he and other natives were fooled on board a ship +by the white slave traders using red handkerchiefs as enticement. When +they reached America, droves of them were put on the block and sold to +people all over the United States.</p> + +<p>The master and mistress of their plantation were Mr. Jim Willis and Mrs. +Nancy Willis who owned hundreds of acres of land and a large number of +slaves. Mrs. Callaway was unable to give an exact number but stated the +Willises were considered wealthy people. On their plantation were raised +sheep, goats, mules, horses, cows, etc. Cotton, corn and vegetables were +also raised. The Willis family was a large one consisting of six +children. 4 boys and 2 girls. Their home was a large two-story frame +house which was set apart from the slave quarters.</p> + +<p>Slave homes on the Willis plantation differed in no respect from the +usual type found elsewhere. All homes were simple log cabins grouped +together, forming what is known as slave quarters.</p> + +<p>The Willis family as kind and religious and saw to it that their slaves +were given plenty of food to eat. Every Monday night each family was +given its share of food for the week. Each grown person was given a peck +of corn [TR: meal on original page] and three pounds of meat; besides +the vegetables, etc. On Tuesday morning each family was given an ample +amount of real flour for biscuits.</p> + +<p>Many of the slave families, especially Mrs. Callaway's family, were +given the privilege of earning money by selling different products. "My +grandfather owned a cotton patch," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "and the +master would loan him a mule so he could plow it at night. Two boys +would each hold a light for him to work by. He preferred working at +night to working on his holidays. My master had a friend in Augusta, +Ga., by the name of Steve Heard and just before my grandfather got ready +to sell his cotton, the master would write Mr. Heard and tell him that +he was sending cotton by Sam and wanted his sold and a receipt returned +to him. He also advised him to give all the money received to Sam. When +grandfather returned he would be loaded down with sugar, cheese, tea, +mackerel, etc. for his family."</p> + +<p>When the women came home from the fields they had to spin 7 cuts, so +many before supper and so many after supper. A group of women were then +selected to weave the cuts of thread into cloth. Dyes were made from red +shoe berries and later used to dye this cloth different colors. All +slaves received clothing twice a year, spring and winter. Mr. Jim Willis +was known for his kindness to his slaves and saw to it that they were +kept supplied with Sunday clothes and shoes as well as work clothing. A +colored shoemaker was required to keep the plantation supplied with +shoes; and everyone was given a pair of Sunday shoes which they kept +shined with a mixture of egg white and soot.</p> + +<p>The size of the Willis Plantation and the various crops and cattle +raised required many different types of work. There were the plow hands, +the hoe hands, etc. Each worker had a required amount of work to +complete each day and an overseer was hired by slave owners to keep +check on this phase of the work. "We often waited until the overseer got +behind a hill, and then we would lay down our hoe and call on God to +free us, my grandfather told me," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "However, I +was a pet in the Willis household and did not have any work to do except +play with the small children. I was required to keep their hands and +faces clean. Sometimes I brought in chips to make the fires. We often +kept so much noise playing in the upstairs bedroom that the master would +call to us and ask that we keep quiet." Older women on the plantation +acted as nurses for all the small children and babies while their +parents worked in the fields. The mistress would keep a sharp eye on the +children also to see that they were well cared for. A slave's life was +very valuable to their owners.</p> + +<p>Punishment was seldom necessary on the Willis plantation as the master +and mistress did everything possible to make their slaves happy; and to +a certain extent indulged them. They were given whisky liberally from +their master's still; and other choice food on special occasions. "I +remember once," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "my aunt Rachel burned the +biscuits and the young master said to her, "Rachel, you nursed me and I +promised not to ever whip you, so don't worry about burning the bread." +My mistress was very fond of me, too, and gave me some of everything +that she gave her own children, tea cakes, apples, etc. She often told +me that she was my mother and was supposed to look after me. In spite of +the kindness of the Willis family there were some slaves who were +unruly; so the master built a house off to itself and called it the +Willis jail. Here he would keep those whom he had to punish. I have +known some slaves to run away on other plantations and the hounds +would bite plugs out of their legs."</p> + +<p>The Willis family did not object to girls and boys courting. There were +large trees, and often in the evenings the boys from other plantations +would come over to see the girls on the Willis plantation. They would +stand in groups around the trees, laughing and talking. If the courtship +reached the point of marriage a real marriage ceremony was performed +from the Bible and the man was given a pass to visit his wife weekly. +Following a marriage a frolic took place and the mistress saw to it that +everyone was served nice foods for the occasion.</p> + +<p>Frolics were common occurrences on the Willis plantation, also quilting +parties. Good foods consisting of pies, cakes, chicken, brandied +peaches, etc. "Dancing was always to be expected by anyone attending +them," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "Our master always kept two to three +hundred gallons of whisky and didn't mind his slaves drinking. I can +remember my master taking his sweetened dram every morning, and often he +gave me some in a tumbler. On Christmas Day big dinners were given for +all of the slaves and a few ate from the family's table after they had +finished their dinner."</p> + +<p>Medical care was promptly given a slave when he became ill. Special care +was always given them for the Willis family had a personal interest in +their slaves. "On one occasion," remarked Mrs. Calloway, "the scarlet +fever broke out among the slaves and to protect the well ones it became +necessary to build houses in a field for those who were sick. This +little settlement later became know as "Shant Field." Food was carried +to a hill and left so that the sick persons could get it without coming +in contact with the others. To kill the fever, sticks of fat pine were +dipped in tar and set on fire and then placed all over the field."</p> + +<p>Religion played as important part in the lives of the slaves, and such +[TR: much?] importance was attached to their prayer meetings. There were +no churches, provided and occasionally they attended the white churches; +but more often they held their prayer meetings in their own cabins. +Prayers and singing was in a moaning fashion, and you often heard this +and nothing more. On Sunday afternoons everyone found a seat around the +mulberry tree and the young mistress would conduct Sunday School.</p> + +<p>Concerning the Civil War, Mrs. Callaway related the following story:</p> + +<p>"When the war broke out my mistress' home became a sewing center and +deifferent women in the neighborhood would come there every day to make +clothes for the soldiers. On each bed was placed the vests, coats, +shirts, pants, and caps. One group did all the cutting, one the +stitching, and one the fitting. Many women cried while they served [TR: +sewed?] heart-broken because their husbands and sons had to go to the +war. One day the Yanks came to our plantation and took all of the best +horses. In one of their wagons were bales of money which they had taken. +Money then was blue in color; of course, there was silver and gold. +After taking the horses they drank as much whisky as they could hold and +then filled their canteens. The rest of the whisky they filled with +spit. The master didn't interfere for fear of the long guns which they +carried."</p> + +<p>After the war some of the slaves left the plantation to seek their +fortune; others remained, renting land from the Willis family or working +with them on a share crop basis.</p> + +<p>As a conclusion Mrs. Callaway remarked: "My folks were good and I know +[HW: they're] in heaven." Mrs. Callaway is deeply religious and all +during the interview would constantly drift to the subject of religion. +She is well cared for by her nine children, six girls and three boys.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CastleSusan"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br> +<br> +SUSAN CASTLE, Age 78<br> +1257 W. Hancock Ave.<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>On a beautiful morning in April, the interviewer found Susan sitting in +the door of her cabin. When asked if she would like to talk about the +old plantation days, she replied; "Yes Ma'am, I don't mind tellin' what +I know, but for dat I done forgot I sho' ain't gwine make nothin' up. +For one thing, I ain't never lived on no plantation. I was a house +servant in town." She added: "Do you mind me axin' you one favor?" +Consent was given and she continued: "Dat is, please don't call me Aunt +Susan; it makes me feel lak I was a hundred years old.</p> + +<p>"I was borned in Clarke County, March 7, 1860; I believes dat's what dey +say. Mudder was named Fannie and Pappy's name was Willis. Us chillun +called 'im Pappy lak he was de onliest one in de world. He fust belonged +to Marse Maxwell of Savannah, Georgia. I was so little I disremembers +how Pappy come by de name of Castle. In all de seben of us chillun, I +didn't have but one brudder, and his name was Johnny. My five sisters +was Mary, Louvenia, Rosa, Fannie, and Sarah. All I 'members 'bout us as +chilluns was dat us played lak chilluns will do.</p> + +<p>"In de quarters us had old timey beds and cheers, but I'll tell you whar +I slept most times. Hit was on a cot right at de foot of Mist'ess' bed. +I stayed at de big house most of de time at night, and 'fore bedtime I +sot close by Mist'ess on a foot stool she had special for me.</p> + +<p>"All I ricollects 'bout my gran'ma was she belonged to General Thomas +R.R. Cobb, and us called 'im Marse Thomas. Gran'ma Susan wouldn't do +right so Marse Thomas sold her on de block.</p> + +<p>"Us had evvything good to eat. Marse Thomas was a rich man and fed 'is +Niggers well. Dey cooked in a big open fireplace and biled greens and +some of de udder vittals in a great big pot what swung on a rack. Meat, +fish and chickens was fried in a griddle iron what was sot on a flat +topped trivet wid slits to let de fire thoo. Dey called it a trivet +'cause it sot on three legs and hot coals was raked up under it. Hoe +cakes made out of cornmeal and wheat flour sho' was good cooked on dat +griddle. 'Tatoes was roasted in de ashes, and dey cooked bread what dey +called ash cake in de ashes. Pound cake, fruit cake, light bread and +biscuits was baked in a great big round pot, only dey warn't as deep as +de pots dey biled in; dese was called ovens. Makes me hongry to think +'bout all dem good vittals now.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Yes Ma'am, us had plenty 'possums. Pappy used to cotch so many +sometimes he jest put 'em in a box and let us eat 'em when us got ready. +'Possums tasted better atter dey was put up in a box and fattened a +while. Us didn't have many rabbits; dey warn't as much in style den as +dey is now, and de style of eatin' 'possums lak dey done in slav'ry +times, dat is 'bout over. Dey eats 'em some yet, but it ain't stylish no +mo'. Us chillun used to go fishin' in Moore's Branch; one would stand on +one side of de branch wid a stick, and one on de udder side would roust +de fishes out. When dey come to de top and jump up, us would hit 'em on +de head, and de grown folks would cook 'em. Dere warn't but one gyarden, +but dat had plenty in it for evvybody.</p> + +<p>"In summer time us wore checkedy dresses made wid low waistes and +gethered skirts, but in winter de dresses was made out of linsey-woolsey +cloth and underclothes was made out of coarse unbleached cloth. +Petticoats had bodice tops and de draw's was made wid waistes too. Us +chillun didn't know when Sunday come. Our clothes warn't no diffu'nt den +from no udder day. Us wore coarse, heavy shoes in winter, but in summer +us went splatter bar feets.</p> + +<p>"Marse Thomas was jest as good as he could be, what us knowed of 'im. +Miss Marion, my Mist'ess, she won't as good to us as Marse Thomas, but +she was all right too. Dey had a heap of chillun. Deir twin boys died, +and de gals was Miss Callie, Miss Sallie, Miss Marion (dey called her +Miss Birdie), and Miss Lucy, dat Lucy Cobb Institute was named for. My +mudder was Miss Lucy's nuss. Marse Thomas had a big fine melonial +(colonial) house on Prince Avenue wid slave quarters in de back yard of +his 10-acre lot. He owned 'most nigh dat whole block 'long dar.</p> + +<p>"Oh! dey had 'bout a hundred slaves I'm sho', for dere was a heap of +'em. De overseer got 'em up 'bout five o'clock in de mornin' and dat +breakfust sho' had better be ready by seben or else somebody gwine to +have to pay for it. Dey went to deir cabins 'bout ten at night. Marse +was good, but he would whup us if we didn't do right. Miss Marion was +allus findin' fault wid some of us.</p> + +<p>"Jesse was de car'iage driver. Car'iages was called phaetons den. Dey +had high seats up in front whar de driver sot, and de white folks sot in +de car'iage below. Jesse went to de War wid Marse Thomas, and was wid +him when he was kilt at Fred'ricksburg, Virginia. I heard 'em sey one of +his men shot 'im by mistake, but I don't know if dat's de trufe or not. +I do know dey sho' had a big grand fun'al 'cause he was a big man and a +general in de War.</p> + +<p>"Some of de slaves on Marse Thomas' place knowed how to read. Aunt Vic +was one of de readers what read de Bible. But most of de Niggers didn't +have sense enough to learn so dey didn't bother wid 'em. Dey had a +church way downtown for de slaves. It was called Landon's Chapel for +Rev. Landon, a white man what preached dar. Us went to Sunday School +too. Aunt Vic read de Bible sometimes den. When us jined de chu'ch dey +sung: 'Amazing Grace How Sweet de Sound.'</p> + +<p>"Marse Thomas had lots of slaves to die, and dey was buried in de +colored folks cemetery what was on de river back of de Lucas place. I +used to know what dey sung at fun'als way back yonder, but I can't bring +it to mind now.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'am, none of Marse Thomas' Niggers ever run away to de Nawth. He +was good to his Niggers. Seems lak to me I 'members dem patterollers run +some of Marse Thomas' Niggers down and whupped 'em and put 'em in jail. +Old Marse had to git 'em out when dey didn't show up at roll call next +mornin'.</p> + +<p>"Marse Thomas allus put a man or de overseer on a hoss or a mule when he +wanted to send news anywhar. He was a big man and had too many slaves to +do anything hisse'f.</p> + +<p>"I 'spect dey done den lak dey does now, slipped 'round and got in +devilment atter de day's wuk was done. Marse Thomas was allus havin' +swell elegant doin's at de big house. De slaves what was house servants +didn't have no time off only atter dinner on Sundays.</p> + +<p>"Christmas was somepin' else. Us sho' had a good time den. Dey give de +chilluns china dolls and dey sont great sacks of apples, oranges, candy, +cake, and evvything good out to de quarters. At night endurin' Christmas +us had parties, and dere was allus some Nigger ready to pick de banjo. +Marse Thomas allus give de slaves a little toddy too, but when dey was +havin' deir fun if dey got too loud he sho' would call 'em down. I was +allus glad to see Christmas come. On New Year's Day, de General had big +dinners and invited all de high-falutin' rich folks.</p> + +<p>"My mudder went to de corn shuckin's off on de plantations, but I was +too little to go. Yes Ma'am, us sho' did dance and sing funny songs way +back in dem days. Us chillun used to play 'Miss Mary Jane,' and us would +pat our hands and walk on broom grass. I don't know nothin' 'bout +charms. Dey used to tell de chillun dat when old folks died dey turned +to witches. I ain't never seed no ghostes, but I sho' has felt 'em. Dey +made de rabbits jump over my grave and had me feelin' right cold and +clammy. Mudder used to sing to Miss Lucy to git her to sleep, but I +don't 'member de songs.</p> + +<p>"Marster was mighty good to his slaves when dey got sick. He allus sont +for Dr. Crawford Long. He was de doctor for de white folks and Marster +had him for de slaves.</p> + +<p>"My mudder said she prayed to de Lord not to let Niggers be slaves all +deir lifes and sho' 'nough de yankees comed and freed us. Some of de +slaves shouted and hollered for joy when Miss Marion called us togedder +and said us was free and warn't slaves no more. Most of 'em went right +out and left 'er and hired out to make money for deyselfs.</p> + +<p>"I stayed on wid my mudder and she stayed on wid Miss Marion. Miss +Marion give her a home on Hull Street 'cause mudder was allus faithful +and didn't never leave her. Atter Miss Marion died, mudder wukked for +Miss Marion's daughter, Miss Callie Hull, in Atlanta. Den Miss Callie +died and mudder come on back to Athens. 'Bout ten years ago she died.</p> + +<p>"I wukked for Mrs. Burns on Jackson Street a long time, but she warn't +no rich lady lak de Cobbs. De last fambly I wukked for was Dr. Hill. I +nussed 'til atter de chillun got too big for dat, and den I done de +washin' 'til dis misery got in my limbs."</p> + +<p>When asked about marriage customs, she laughed and replied: "I was +engaged, but I didn't marry though, 'cause my mudder 'posed me marryin'. +I had done got my clothes bought and ready. Mrs. Hull helped me fix my +things. My dress was a gray silk what had pearl beads on it and was +trimmed in purple.</p> + +<p>"What does I think 'bout freedom? I think it's best to be free, 'cause +you can do pretty well as you please. But in slav'ry time if de Niggers +had a-behaved and minded deir Marster and Mist'ess dey wouldn't have had +sich a hard time. Mr. Jeff Davis 'posed freedom, but Mr. Abraham Lincoln +freed us, and he was all right. Booker Washin'ton was a great man, and +done all he knowed how to make somepin' out of his race.</p> + +<p>"De reason I jined de church was dat de Lord converted me. He is our +guide. I think people ought to be 'ligious and do good and let deir +lights shine 'cause dat's de safest way to go to Heben."</p> + +<p>At the conclusion of the interview Susan asked: "Is dat all you gwine to +ax me? Well, I sho' enjoyed talkin' to you. I hopes I didn't talk loud +'nough for dem other Niggers to hear me, 'cause if you open your mouth +dey sho' gwine tell it. Yes Ma'am, I'se too old to wuk now and I'se +thankful for de old age pension. If it warn't for dat, since dis misery +tuk up wid me, I would be done burnt up, I sho' would. Good-bye +Mist'ess."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ClaybournEllen"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 2<br> +Ex-Slave #17]<br> +<br> +ELLEN CLAIBOURN<br> +808 Campbell Street<br> +(Richmond County)<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +<br> +By:<br> +(Mrs.) Margaret Johnson—Editor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Dist. 2<br> +Augusta, Ga.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Ellen was born August 19, 1852, on the plantation of Mr. Hezie Boyd in +Columbia County, her father being owned by Mr. Hamilton on an adjoining +plantation. She remembers being given, at the age of seven, to her young +mistress, Elizabeth, who afterward was married to Mr. Gabe Hendricks. At +her new home she served as maid, and later as nurse. The dignity of her +position as house servant has clung to her through the years, forming +her speech in a precision unusual in her race.</p> + +<p>"I 'member all our young marsters was drillin' way back in 1860, an' the +Confed'rate War did not break out till in April 1861. My mistis' young +husband went to the war, an' all the other young marsters 'round us. +Young marster's bes' friend came to tell us all goodby, an' he was +killed in the first battle he fought in.</p> + +<p>"Befo' the war, when we was little, we mostly played dolls, and had doll +houses, but sometime young marster would come out on the back porch and +play the fiddle for us. When he played 'Ole Dan Tucker' all the peoples +uster skip and dance 'bout and have a good time. My young mistis played +on the piano.</p> + +<p>"My granpa was so trusty and hon'able his old marster give him and +granma they freedom when he died. He give him a little piece of land and +a mule, and some money, and tole him he didn't b'long to nobody, and +couldn't work for nobody 'cept for pay. He couldn't free granpa's +chilrun, 'cause they already b'longed to their young marsters and +mistises. He worked for Mr. Hezie Boyd one year as overseer, but he say +he didn't wanter lose his religion trying to make slaves work, so he +took to preaching. He rode 'bout on his mule and preach at all the +plantations. I never 'member seein' granma, but granpa came to see us +of'en. He wore a long tail coat and a <i>big</i> beaver hat. In that hat +granma had always pack a pile of ginger cakes for us chilrun. They was +big an' thick, an' longish, an' we all stood 'round to watch him take +off his hat. Every time he came to see us, granma sent us clothes and +granpa carried 'em in his saddle bags. You ever see any saddle bags, +ma'am? Well they could sho' hold a heap of stuff!</p> + +<p>"My pa uster come two or three times a week to our plantashun, an' just +so he was back by sun-up for work, nobody didn't say nothin' to him. He +just lived 'bout three or four miles way from us.</p> + +<p>"Yes ma'am we went to church, and the white preachers preached for us. +We sat in the back of the church just like we sits in the back of the +street cars now-days. Some of the house servants would go one time and +some another. All the hands could go but ev'rybody had to has a pass, to +sho' who they b'long to.</p> + +<p>"Yes ma'am, the slaves was whipped if they didn't do they taskwork, or +if they steal off without a pass, but if our marster found a overseer +whipped the slaves overmuch he would git rid of him. We was always +treated good and kind and well cared for, and we was happy.</p> + +<p>"No ma'am, no overseer ever went to marster's table, or in the house +'cept to speak to marster. Marster had his overseers' house and give 'em +slaves to cook for 'em and wait on 'em, but they never go anywhere with +the fam'ly.</p> + +<p>"The house servants' houses was better than the fiel'-hands'—and +Marster uster buy us cloth from the 'Gusta Fact'ry in checks and plaids +for our dresses, but all the fiel'-hands clothes was made out of cloth +what was wove on mistis' own loom. Sometime the po' white folks in the +neighborhood would come an' ask to make they cloth on mistis' loom, and +she always let 'em.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am, we had seamsters to make all the clothes for everybody, and +mistis had a press-room, where all the clothes was put away when they +was finished. When any body needed clothes mistis would go to the +press-room an' get 'em.</p> + +<p>"During the war mistis had one room all fixed up to take care of sick +soldiers. They would come stragglin' in, all sick or shot, an' sometimes +we had a room full of 'em. Mistis had one young boy to do nothin' but +look after 'em and many's the night I got up and helt the candle for 'em +to see the way to the room.</p> + +<p>"Oh my Gawd, I saw plenty wounded soldiers. We was right on the road to +Brightsboro, and plenty of 'em pass by. That Confed'rate war was the +terriblest, awfullest thing.</p> + +<p>"Nobody but me knowed where mistis buried her gold money and finger +rings and ear-rings and breat-pins. [TR: breast-pins?] I helt the candle +then, too. Mistis and marster, (he was home then) an' me went down back +of the grape arbor to the garden-house. Marster took up some planks, an' +dug a hole like a grabe and buried a big iron box with all them things +in it; then he put back the planks. Nobody ever found 'em, and after the +war was over we went and got 'em.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am, everybody did they own work. De cook cooked, and the +washer, she didn't iron no clothes. De ironer did that. De housemaid +cleaned up, and nurse tended the chilrun. Then they was butlers and +coachmen. Oh, they was a plenty of us to do eve'ything.</p> + +<p>"We didn't have a stove, just a big fire place, and big oven on both +sides, and long-handle spiders. When we was fixin' up to go to Camp +Meeting to the White Oak Camp meeting grounds, they cooked chickens and +roasted pigs, and put apples in they mouth and a lot of other food—good +food too. De food peoples eat these days, you couldn't have got +<i>nobody</i> to eat. Camp Meetin' was always in August and September. +It was a good Methodis' meetin', and eve'ybody got religion. Sometimes a +preacher would come to visit at the house, an' all the slaves was called +an' he prayed for 'em. Sometimes the young ones would laugh, an' then +marster would have 'em whipped.</p> + +<p>"My young mistis had a sister older than her. She married Mr. Artie +Boyd, an' they had a big weddin' but she loved her home and her mother +and father so much she wouldn't leave home. She just stayed on living +there. When her baby come she died, and I tell you, ma'am, her fun'al +was most like a weddin', with so many people an' so many flowers. All +the people from the plantashun came to the house, an' the wimmen had +they babies in they arms. One the ladies say, "How come they let all +these niggers and babies come in the house?" But marster knowed all us +loved mistis, and he call us in. Marse Artie he wrote a long letter an' +all the things he got from mistis he give back to her fam'ly an' all his +own things he give to his brother, an' then he died. Some say his heart +strings just broke 'cause mistis died, and some say he took something.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, I wasn't married till after freedom. I was married right +here in 'Gusta by Mr. Wharton, the First Baptist Church preacher, an' I +lived and worked here ever since."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ClayBerry"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 7<br> +Ex-Slave #19]<br> +Adella S. Dixon<br> +District 7<br> +<br> +BERRY CLAY<br> +OLD SLAVE STORY<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Telfair County was the home of some colored people who never were +slaves, but hired their services for wages just as the race does today. +Berry Clay, half Indian, half white, was the son of Fitema Bob Britt, a +full blood Indian, who died shortly after his son's birth. His mother +later married William Clay, whose name was taken by the children as well +as the mother. The family then moved to Macon.</p> + +<p>Clay, next [TR: 'to the' scratched out] oldest of five children was 89 +years old on August 5, 1936, and while he was never a slave, remembers +many incidents that took place then. Not many years after his mother +remarried, she became very ill and he recalls being lifted by his +step-father to kiss her good bye as she lay dying. After her death, the +family continued to live in South Macon where the father was employed as +overseer for a crew at the Railroad yard.</p> + +<p>This position often called for the punishment of slaves but he was too +loyal to his color to assist in making their lives more unhappy. His +method of carrying out orders and yet keeping a clear conscience was +unique—the slave was taken to the woods where he was supposedly laid +upon a log and severely beaten. Actually, he was made to stand to one +side and to emit loud cries which were accompanied by hard blows on the +log. The continuation of the two sounds gave any listener the +impression that some one was severely beaten. It is said that Clay, the +father, wore out several huge leather straps upon logs but that he was +never known to strike a slave.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wadley, by whom he was employed, was a well-known Macon citizen who +served as President of the Central of Georgia Railroad for many years. A +monument on Mulberry Street nearly opposite the Post Office is a +constant reminder of the esteem in which he was held. His plantation was +a huge one extending from the Railroad yard as far as the present site +of Mercer University. A day of rest was given the slaves about once +every three months in addition to the regular holidays which are +observed today. On holidays, "frolics" at which square dances were the +chief form of entertainment (by the music of a banjo or fiddle) were +enjoyed. Ring games were played by the children. The refreshments +usually consisted of ash cakes and barbecue. The ash cake was made by +wrapping corn pones in oak leaves and burying the whole in hot ashes. +When the leaves dried, the cake was usually done and was carefully moved +to prevent its becoming soiled. [HW: A] skillful cook could produce +cakes that were a golden brown and not at all ashy.</p> + +<p>The membership of the local church was composed of slaves from several +plantations. It was an old colored church with a white minister who +preached the usual doctrine of the duty of a slave to his master. The +form of service was the same as that of the white church. One unusual +feature of the plantation was its Sunday School for the Negro children.</p> + +<p>Courtships were very brief for as soon as a man or woman began to +manifest interest in the opposite sex, the master busied himself to +select a wife or husband and only in rare cases was the desire of the +individual considered. When the selection was made, the master read the +ceremony and gave the couple a home. He always requested, or rather +demanded, that they be fruitful. A barren woman was separated from her +husband and usually sold.</p> + +<p>Very little money was handled by these people. The carriage drivers were +more fortunate than the regular workers for they smuggled things to town +when they drove the master and mistress and sold them while the family +shopped or went visiting. At rare intervals, the field hands were able +to earn small sums of money in this manner.</p> + +<p>Food was provided by the owners and all families cooked for themselves +whether they were many or one. The weekly allotments of meal, meat, +etc., were supplemented through the use of vegetables which could always +be obtained from the fields. On special days chicken or beef was given +and each one had a sufficient amount for his needs. Hunting and fishing +were recreations in which the slaves were not allowed to participate +although they frequently went on secret excursions of this nature. All +food stuff as well as cloth for garments was produced at home.</p> + +<p>Clay is very superstitious, still believing in most of the signs +commonly believed in those days, because he has "watched them and found +that they are true". He stated that the screeching of the owl may be +stopped by placing a poker in the fire and allowing it to remain until +it becomes red hot. The owl will then leave, but death will invariably +follow its visit.</p> + +<p>The attitudes of the two races in the South regarding the war were +directly opposite. The whites beheld it as something horrible and +dreaded the losses that would necessarily be theirs. Sons and fathers +had property to be considered, but they were generous in their +contributions to the soldiers. On the other hand, the slaves rejoiced as +they looked forward to their freedom when the war was over. There were, +however, a few who were devoted to their masters to the extent that they +fought in their stead in the Confederate Army. Others remained at home +and skillfully ran the plantation and protected the women and children +until the end of the war.</p> + +<p>When Sherman made his famous "March to Sea", one phalanx of his army +wrought its destruction between this city and Griswoldville. A gun +factory and government shoe factory were completely destroyed. Although +the citizens gave the invaders everything they thought they desired, the +rest was destroyed in most instances. They tried to ascertain the +attitudes of the land owners toward his servants and when for any reason +they presumed that one was cruel, their vengeance was expressed through +the absolute destruction of his property. In nearly every instance +smoke houses were raided and the contents either destroyed or given +away. Barrels of syrup flowing through the yard was a common sight.</p> + +<p>At the end of the war, the South was placed under military rule. The +presence of the Yankee guardsmen had a psychological effect upon the +Southerners and they were very humble.</p> + +<p>Before the terrors of the war had subsided a new menace sprang up—the +Klu Klux Klan. While its energy was usually directed against ex-slaves, +a white man was sometimes a victim. One such occasion was recalled by +Clay. The group planned to visit a man who for some reason became +suspicious and prepared to outwit them if they came. He heated a huge +pot of water and when a part of his door was crashed in he reached +through the opening and poured gourds of boiling water upon his +assailants. They retreated, [HW: and] while they were away, he made his +way to Atlanta.</p> + +<p>Another group which began its operations shortly after the close of the +war was a military clan organized for the purpose of giving the +ex-slaves a knowledge of drilling and war tactics. An order to disband +was received from the "Black Horse Calvary" by the leader of the group. +His life was threatened when he failed to obey so he prepared for a +surprise visit. He fortified his house with twenty-five men on the +inside and the same number outside. When the approaching calvarymen +reached a certain point, the fifty hidden men fired at the same time. +Seven members of the band were killed and many others wounded. There +was no further interference from this group.</p> + +<p>Clay and his father ran a grocery store just after Emancipation. He did +not like this type of work and apprenticed himself to a painter to learn +the trade. He is still considered an excellent painter though he does +not receive much work.</p> + +<p>He has always taken care of himself and never "ran about" at night. He +boasts that his associates never included a dancing woman. As he has +used tobacco for sixty-five years, he does not consider it a menace to +health but states that worry will kill anyone and the man who wants to +live a long time must form the habit of not worrying. His Indian +blood—the high cheek bones, red skin and straight black hair now tinged +with grey make this unmistakable—has probably played a large part in +the length of his life.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CodyPierce"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 7<br> +Ex-Slave #22]<br> +Adella S. Dixon<br> +District 7<br> +<br> +PIERCE CODY<br> +OLD SLAVE STORY<br> +[HW: About 88]<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Pierce Cody was the eldest son of Elbert and Dorothy Cody. His father +was born in Richmond, Virginia, his mother in Warren County. When the +Emancipation Proclamation was signed, he, the eldest child in a large +family, was in his early teens. This group lived on the place owned by +Mr. Bob Cody, [HW: whose] family was a group of ardent believers in the +Hardshell Baptist faith. So firm was their faith that a church of this +denomination was provided for the slaves and each one required to become +a member. A white minister invariably preached the then worn out +doctrine of a slave's duty to his master, the reward of faithfulness and +the usual admonition against stealing.</p> + +<p>The members of this church were required to fast on one day of the week, +the fast lasting all day until seven in the evening. The small boys, +both white and colored, resenting the abstinence from food, usually +secured a reserve supply which was cached during the week and secretly +enjoyed on fast day. Fish were plentiful in all the streams and they +sometimes sneaked away to the river and after enjoying the sport, cooked +their catch on the banks of the stream.</p> + +<p>Groups of ministers—30 to 40—then traveled from one plantation to +another spreading the gospel, and were entertained as they traveled. On +one occasion the group arrived at the Cody estate on fast day. The boys +having been on one of their secret fishing trips had caught so many +perch that they were not able to consume them on the banks, so had +smuggled them to the kitchen, coaxed the cook to promise to prepare +them, and had also sworn her to absolute secrecy regarding their origin. +Although the kitchen was not directly connected with the "big house", +the guests soon detected the aroma of fresh fish and requested that +they be allowed to partake of this delicacy. When the boys, as well as +the servants, heard this, they became panicky for they feared the wrath +of the master. But the catch was so heartily relished that instead of +the expected punishment, they were commended and allowed to fish on the +next day of fasting.</p> + +<p>As was characteristic of many others, the planter's home was near the +center of a vast estate and in this instance had a tall lookout on the +roof from which the watchman might see for miles around. The "quarters" +were nearby and the care-free children who played in the large yard were +closely watched as they were often stolen by speculators and later sold +at auctions far away. The land was divided into many fields each of +which was used to cultivate a particular product. Each field had its +special crew and overseer.</p> + +<p>Cody's father was [HW: one of the] feeders [HW: who] arose at least two +hours before sunrise, to feed the stock. A large number of horses and +more than two hundred head of cattle had to be fed by sunrise when they +were to be turned into the pastures or driven to the field to begin the +day's work. After sunrise, his father's duty [HW: as] foreman for +plowers began. Other workers were hoe hands, additional foremen, cooks, +weavers, spinners, seamstresses, tailors, shoemakers, etc. As everything +used was grown and made on the estate there was plenty of work for all +and in many instances [HW: slaves] learned trades which they liked and +which furnished a livelihood when they were set free.</p> + +<p>[HW: When he entered his teens] Cody's first duties began [HW: as] a +plowhand who broke "newground." As all of this land was to be plowed, a +lack of skill in making straight furrows did not matter, so beginners +were preferably used. Shortly after he began plowing he was made foreman +of one of the groups. Thus encouraged by his master's faith in his +ability to do a man's work, he assumed a "grown up" attitude under the +stimulus of his new responsibilities and was married shortly after.</p> + +<p>At this time marriages resulted from brief courtships. After the consent +of the girl was obtained, it was necessary to seek permission from the +master, whether she lived on the same or an adjoining plantation. In the +latter case, the marriage rites were performed by her master. The +minister was not used in most instances—the ceremony [HW: being] read +from a testament by the owner of the bride. Marriages were nearly always +performed out of doors in the late afternoon. The bride's wedding dress +was fashioned of cloth made on the plantation from a pattern of her own +designing. Attendants at marriages were rare. After the ceremony, the +guests danced far into the night by music from the fiddle and banjo. +Refreshments consisting of ginger cakes, barbecue, etc., were served. +Such a couple, belonging to two different masters, did not keep house. +The [HW: husband] was allowed to visit his wife on Wednesday night and +Saturday when he might remain through Sunday. All marriage unions were +permanent and a barren wife was considered the only real cause for +separation.</p> + +<p>Church services for this group were held jointly with the white members, +the two audiences being separated by a partition. Gradually, the colored +members became dissatisfied with this type of service and withdrew to +form a separate church. The desire for independence in worship must +necessarily have been strong, to endure the inconveniences of the "brush +arbor" churches that they resorted to. As a beginning, several trees +were felled, and the brush and forked branches separated. Four heavy +branches with forks formed the framework. Straight poles were laid +across these to form a crude imitation of beams and the other framework +of a building. The top and sides were formed of brush which was thickly +placed so that it formed a solid wall. A hole left in one side formed a +doorway from which beaten paths extended in all directions. Seats made +from slabs obtained at local sawmills completed the furnishing. In +inclement weather, it was not possible to conduct services here, but +occasionally showers came in the midst of the service and the audience +calmly hoisted umbrellas or papers and with such scant protection, the +worship continued.</p> + +<p>Sunday afternoons were quietly spent, visiting being the only means of +recreation. One of the favorite stay at home pastimes was the inspection +of heads. The pediculous condition made frequent treatment necessary for +comfort. The young white men liked to visit the "quarters" and have the +slaves search their heads. They would stretch full length upon the cabin +floors and rest their heads upon a pillow. Usually they offered a gift +of some sort if many of the tiny parasites were destroyed, so the clever +picker who found a barren head simply reached into his own and produced +a goodly number. There existed on this plantation an antagonistic +feeling toward children (born of slave parents) with a beautiful suit of +hair, and this type of hair was kept cropped very short.</p> + +<p>Gossip, stealing, etc. was not tolerated. No one was ever encouraged to +"tattle" on another. Locks were never used on any of the cabin doors or +on the smokehouse. Food was there in abundance and each person was free +to replenish his supply as necessary. Money was more or less a novelty +as it was only given in 1¢ pieces at Christmas time. As food, clothing, +and shelter were furnished, the absence was not particularly painful. +Connected with nearly every home were those persons who lived "in the +woods" in preference to doing the labor necessary to remain at their +home. Each usually had a scythe and a bulldog for protection. As food +became scarce, they sneaked to the quarters in the still of the night +and coaxed some friend to get food for them from the smokehouse. Their +supply obtained, they would leave again. This was not considered +stealing.</p> + +<p>Medical care was also free. Excellent physicians were maintained. It was +not considered necessary to call a physician until home +remedies—usually teas made of roots—had had no effect. Women in +childbirth were cared for by grannies,—Old women whose knowledge was +broad by experience, acted as practical nurses.</p> + +<p>Several cooks were regularly maintained. Some cooked for the men who had +no families, others for the members of the big house and guests. The +menus varied little from day to day. A diet of bread—called "shortening +bread,"—vegetables and smoked meat were usually consumed. Buttermilk +was always plentiful. On Sundays "seconds" (flour) were added to the +list and butter accompanied this. Chickens, fresh meat, etc., were +holiday items and were seldom enjoyed at any other time.</p> + +<p>Not only were the slaves required to work but the young men of the "big +house" also had their duties. In the summer they went fishing. While +this sport was enjoyed, it was done on an extremely large scale in order +that everyone should have an adequate supply of fish. The streams +abounded in all kinds of fish, and nets were used to obtain large +quantities necessary. In winter hunting was engaged in for this same +purpose. Rabbits, squirrels, etc., were the usual game, but in addition +the trapping of wild hogs was frequently indulged in. The woods +contained many of these animals which were exceptionally vicious. The +hunters, however, trapped them in much the same way that rabbits are now +caught, without injury to the flesh [TR: 'making the meat more +delicious' marked out]. Deer were also plentiful and venison enjoyed +during its season. Horned snakes were the greatest impediments to more +abundant hunting.</p> + +<p>Knowledge of the war was kept from the slaves until long after its +beginning. Most of them had no idea what "war" meant and any news that +might have been spread, fell on deaf ears. Gradually this knowledge was +imparted by Yankee peddlers who came to the plantation to sell +bed-ticking, etc. When the master discovered how this information was +being given out, these peddlers were forbidden to go near the quarters. +This rule was strictly enforced.</p> + +<p>Eventually, the Confederate soldiers on their way to and from camp began +to stop at the house. Food and everything available was given to them. +Three of Mr. Cody's sons were killed in battle. As the Northern soldiers +did not come near the home, the loss of property was practically +negligible [TR: '—six cents being all' marked out].</p> + +<p>When the Emancipation Proclamation was signed, the slaves were called to +the "big house" in a group to receive the news that they were free. Both +old and young danced and cheered when this information was given out. +Many of the families remained there for a year or two until they were +able to find desirable locations elsewhere.</p> + +<p>Cody attributes his ability to reach a ripe old age to the excellent +care he took of himself in his youth. He has used tobacco since he was a +small boy and does not feel that it affects his health. Distilled liquor +was plentiful in his young days and he always drank but never to an +excess.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="CoferWillis"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +WILLIS COFER, Age 78<br> +548 Findley Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Grace McCune<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens, Ga.<br> +<br> +and<br> +Leila Harris<br> +John N. Booth<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +[MAY 6 1938]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Willis was enjoying the warm sunshine of an April morning as he sat on +his small porch. Apparently, he was pleased because someone actually +wanted to hear him talk about himself. His rheumatism had been painful +ever since that last bad cold had weakened him, but he felt sure the +sunshine would "draw out all the kinks." Having observed the amenities +in regard to health and weather, the old man proceeded with his story:</p> + +<p>"Eden and Calline Cofer was my pa and ma and us all lived on de big old +Cofer plantation 'bout five miles from Washin'ton, Wilkes. Pa b'longed +to Marse Henry Cofer and ma and us chillun wuz de property of Marse +Henry's father, Marse Joe Cofer.</p> + +<p>"I wuz borned in 1860, and at one time I had three brudders, but Cato +and John died. My oldest brudder, Ben Cofer, is still livin' and +a-preachin' de Gospel somewhar up Nawth.</p> + +<p>"Chilluns did have de bestes' good times on our plantation, 'cause Old +Marster didn't 'low 'em to do no wuk 'til dey wuz 12 years old. Us jus' +frolicked and played 'round de yard wid de white chilluns, but us sho' +did evermore have to stay in dat yard. It wuz de cook's place to boss us +when de other Niggers wuz off in de fields, and evvy time us tried to +slip off, she cotch us and de way dat 'oman could burn us up wid a +switch wuz a caution.</p> + +<p>"Dere warn't no schools for us to go to, so us jes' played 'round. Our +cook wuz all time feedin' us. Us had bread and milk for breakfas', and +dinner wuz mos'ly peas and cornbread, den supper wuz milk and bread. +Dere wuz so many chilluns dey fed us in a trough. Dey jes' poured de +peas on de chunks of cornbread what dey had crumbled in de trough, and +us had to mussel 'em out. Yessum, I said mussel. De only spoons us had +wuz mussel shells what us got out of de branches. A little Nigger could +put peas and cornbread away mighty fast wid a mussel shell.</p> + +<p>"Boys jes' wore shirts what looked lak dresses 'til dey wuz 12 years old +and big enough to wuk in de field. Den dey put 'em on pants made open in +de back. Dem britches would look awful funny now, but dey wuz all us had +den, and all de boys wuz mighty proud when dey got big enough to wear +pants and go to wuk in de fields wid grown folkses. When a boy got to be +a man enough to wear pants, he drawed rations and quit eatin' out of de +trough.</p> + +<p>"All de slave quarters wuz log cabins and little famblies had cabins wid +jes' one room. Old Marster sho' did want to see lots of chilluns 'round +de cabins and all de big famblies wuz 'lowed to live in two-room cabins. +Beds for slaves wuz made by nailing frames, built out of oak or walnut +planks to de sides of de cabins. Dey had two or three laigs to make 'em +set right, and de mattresses wuz filled wid wheat straw. Dere warn't no +sto'-bought stoves den, and all our cookin' wuz done in de fireplace. +Pots wuz hung on iron cranes to bile and big pones of light bread wuz +cooked in ovens on de hearth. Dat light bread and de biscuits made out +of shorts wuz our Sunday bread and dey sho' wuz good, wid our home-made +butter. Us had good old corn bread for our evvyday bread, and dere ain't +nothin' lak corn bread and buttermilk to make healthy Niggers. Dere +wouldn't be so many old sick Niggers now if dey et corn bread evvyday +and let all dis wheat bread and sto'-bought, ready-made bread alone +'cept on Sunday.</p> + +<p>"Dere wuz four or five acres in Marster's big old gyarden, but den it +tuk a big place to raise enough for all de slaves and white folkses too +in de same gyarden. Dere wuz jus' de one gyarden wid plenty of cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, beans, corn, peas, onions, 'taters, and jus' +evvything folkses laked in de way of gyarden sass. Marster never 'lowed +but one smokehouse on his place. It wuz plumb full of meat, and evvy +slave had his meat rations weighed out reg'lar. Dere wuz jes' one dairy +house too whar de slaves got all de milk and butter dey needed. Marster +sho' did b'lieve in seeing dat his Niggers had a plenty to eat.</p> + +<p>"Marster raised lots of chickens and de slaves raised chickens too if +dey wanted to. Marster let 'em have land to wuk for deyselves, but dey +had to wuk it atter dey come out of his fields. All dey made on dis land +wuz deir own to sell and do what dey wanted to wid. Lots of 'em plowed +and hoed by moonlight to make deir own crops.</p> + +<p>"Us used to hear tell of big sales of slaves, when sometimes mammies +would be sold away off from deir chilluns. It wuz awful, and dey would +jes' cry and pray and beg to be 'lowed to stay together. Old Marster +wouldn't do nothin' lak dat to us. He said it warn't right for de +chilluns to be tuk away from deir mammies. At dem sales dey would put a +Nigger on de scales and weigh him, and den de biddin' would start. If he +wuz young and strong, de biddin' would start 'round $150 and de highest +bidder got de Nigger. A good young breedin' 'oman brung $2,000 easy, +'cause all de Marsters wanted to see plenty of strong healthy chillun +comin' on all de time. Cyarpenters and bricklayers and blacksmiths brung +fancy prices from $3,000 to $5,000 sometimes. A Nigger what warn't no +more'n jes' a good field hand brung 'bout $200.</p> + +<p>"Dem bricklayers made all de bricks out of de red clay what dey had +right dar on most all de plantations, and de blacksmith he had to make +all de iron bars and cranes for de chimblies and fireplaces. He had to +make de plow points too and keep de farm tools all fixed up. Sometimes +at night dey slipped off de place to go out and wuk for money, a-fixin' +chimblies and buildin' things, but dey better not let demselves git +cotched.</p> + +<p>"Mammy wove de cloth for our clothes and de white folkses had 'em made +up. Quilts and all de bed-clothes wuz made out of homespun cloth.</p> + +<p>"De fus' Sadday atter Easter wuz allus a holiday for de slaves. Us wuz +proud of dat day 'cause dat wuz de onlies' day in de year a Nigger could +do 'zactly what he pleased. Dey could go huntin', fishin' or visitin', +but most of 'em used it to put in a good days wuk on de land what +Marster 'lowed 'em to use for deyselves. Some of 'em come to Athens and +help lay bricks on a new buildin' goin' up on Jackson Street. No Ma'am, +I done forgot what buildin' it wuz.</p> + +<p>"Us Niggers went to de white folkses churches. Mr. Louis Williams +preached at de Baptist Church on de fust Sundays, and Meferdiss +(Methodist) meetin's wuz on de second Sundays. Mr. Andy Bowden and Mr. +Scott Cowan wuz two of de Meferdiss preachers. Me and pa jined de +Baptis' Church. Ma wuz jes' a Meferdiss, but us all went to church +together. Dey had de baptizin's at de pool and dere wuz sho' a lot of +prayin' and shoutin' and singin' goin' on while de preacher done de +dippin' of 'em. De onliest one of dem baptizin' songs I can ricollect +now is, <i>Whar de Healin' Water Flows</i>. Dey waited 'til dey had a +crowd ready to be baptized and den dey tuk a whole Sunday for it and had +a big dinner on de ground at de church.</p> + +<p>"De sho' 'nough big days wuz dem camp meetin' days. White folkses and +Niggers all went to de same camp meetin's, and dey brung plenty 'long to +eat—big old loafs of light bread what had been baked in de skillets. De +night before dey sot it in de ovens to rise and by mawnin' it had done +riz most to de top of de deep old pans. Dey piled red coals all 'round +de ovens and when dat bread got done it wuz good 'nough for anybody. De +tables wuz loaded wid barbecued pigs and lambs and all de fried chicken +folkses could eat, and all sorts of pies and cakes wuz spread out wid de +other goodies.</p> + +<p>"Evvy plantation gen'ally had a barbecue and big dinner for Fourth of +July, and when sev'ral white famblies went in together, dey did have +high old times tryin' to see which one of 'em could git deir barbecue +done and ready to eat fust. Dey jus' et and drunk all day. No Ma'am, us +didn't know nuffin' 'bout what dey wuz celebratin' on Fourth of July, +'cept a big dinner and a good time.</p> + +<p>"When slaves got married, de man had to ax de gal's ma and pa for her +and den he had to ax de white folkses to 'low 'em to git married. De +white preacher married 'em. Dey hold right hands and de preacher ax de +man: 'Do you take dis gal to do de bes' you kin for her?' and if he say +yes, den dey had to change hands and jump over de broomstick and dey wuz +married. Our white folkses wuz all church folkses and didn't 'low no +dancin' at weddin's but dey give 'em big suppers when deir slaves got +married. If you married some gal on another place, you jus' got to see +her on Wednesday and Sadday nights and all de chilluns b'longed to de +gal's white folkses. You had to have a pass to go den, or de +patterollers wuz sho' to git you. Dem patterollers evermore did beat up +slaves if dey cotched 'em off dey own Marster's place 'thout no pass. If +Niggers could out run 'em and git on deir home lines dey wuz safe.</p> + +<p>"On our place when a slave died dey washed de corpse good wid plenty of +hot water and soap and wropt it in a windin' sheet, den laid it out on +de coolin' board and spread a snow white sheet over de whole business, +'til de coffin wuz made up. De windin' sheet wuz sorter lak a bed sheet +made extra long. De coolin' board wuz made lak a ironin' board 'cept it +had laigs. White folkses wuz laid out dat way same as Niggers. De +coffins wuz made in a day. Dey tuk de measurin' stick and measured de +head, de body, and de footses and made de coffin to fit dese +measurements. If it wuz a man what died, dey put a suit of clothes on +him before dey put him in de coffin. Dey buried de 'omans in da windin' +sheets. When de Niggers got from de fields some of 'em went and dug a +grave. Den dey put de coffin on de oxcart and carried it to de graveyard +whar dey jus' had a burial dat day. Dey waited 'bout two months +sometimes before dey preached de fun'ral sermon. For the fun'ral dey +built a brush arbor in front of de white folkses church, and de white +preacher preached de fun'ral sermon, and white folkses would come lissen +to slave fun'rals. De song most sung at fun'rals wuz <i>Hark from de +Tomb</i>. De reason dey had slave fun'rals so long atter de burial wuz +to have 'em on Sunday or some other time when de crops had been laid by +so de other slaves could be on hand.</p> + +<p>"When white folkses died deir fun'rals wuz preached before dey wuz +buried. Dat wuz de onliest diff'unce in de way dey buried de whites and +de Niggers. Warn't nobody embalmed dem days and de white folkses wuz +buried in a graveyard on de farm same as de Niggers wuz, and de same +oxcart took 'em all to de graveyard.</p> + +<p>"Our Marster done de overseein' at his place hisself, and he never had +no hired overseer. Nobody never got a lickin' on our plantation lessen +dey needed it bad, but when Marster did whup 'em dey knowed dey had been +whupped. Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' on our place and us all +knowed better'n to take what didn't b'long to us, 'cause Old Marster +sho' did git atter Niggers what stole. If one Nigger did kill another +Nigger, dey tuk him and locked him in da jailhouse for 30 days to make +his peace wid God. Evvy day de preacher would come read de Bible to him, +and when de 30 days wuz up, den dey would hang him by de neck 'til he +died. De man what done de hangin' read de Bible to de folkses what wuz +gathered 'round dar while de murderer wuz a-dyin'.</p> + +<p>"Its de devil makes folkses do bad, and dey all better change and serve +God-a-Mighty, so as he kin save 'em before its too late. I b'lieve +folkses 'haved better dem days dan dey does now. Marstar made 'em be +good 'round his place.</p> + +<p>"When us turned Marster's watch dogs loose at night, dey warn't nothin' +could come 'round dat place. Dey had to be kept chained up in de +daytime. Sometimes Marster let us take his dogs and go huntin' and dey +wuz de best 'possum trailers 'round dem parts. When dey barked up a +'simmon tree, us allus found a 'possum or two in dat tree. Sometimes +atter us cotched up lots of 'em, Marster let us have a 'possum supper. +Baked wid plenty of butter and 'tatoes and sprinkled over wid red +pepper, dey is mighty good eatments. My mouf's jus' a-waterin' 'cause +I'm thinkin' 'bout 'possums.</p> + +<p>"Yes Ma'am, us had corn shuckin's, and dey wuz big old times. Evvybody +from plantations miles 'round would take time out to come. Sometimes de +big piles of corn would make a line most a half a mile long, but when +all de Niggers got at dat corn de shucks sho' would fly and it wouldn't +be so long before all de wuk wuz done and dey would call us to supper. +Dere wuz barbecue and chickens, jus' a plenty for all de Niggers, and +corn bread made lak reg'lar light bread and sho' enough light bread too, +and lots of 'tato pies and all sorts of good things.</p> + +<p>"Atter da War wuz over, dey jus' turned de slaves loose widout nothin'. +Some stayed on wid Old Marster and wukked for a little money and dey +rations.</p> + +<p>"Pa went down on the Hubbard place and wukked for 40 dollars a year and +his rations. Ma made cloth for all de folkses 'round 'bout. Dey fotched +deir thread and she wove de cloth for 50 cents a day. If us made a good +crop, us wuz all right wid plenty of corn, peas, 'tatoes, cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, all de hog meat us needed, and chickens too. Us +started out widout nothin' and had to go in debt to de white folkses at +fust but dat wuz soon paid off. I never had no chance to go to school +and git book larnin'. All de time, us had to wuk in de fields.</p> + +<p>"Ku Kluxers went 'round wid dem doughfaces on heaps atter de War. De +Niggers got more beatin's from 'em dan dey had ever got from deir Old +Marsters. If a Nigger sassed white folkses or kilt a hoss, dem Kluxers +sho' did evermore beat him up. Dey never touched me for I stayed out of +deir way, but dey whupped my pa one time for bein' off his place atter +dark. When dey turned him loose, he couldn't hardly stand up. De Yankees +jus' about broke up de Ku Kluxers, but day sho' wuz bad on Niggers while +dey lasted.</p> + +<p>"I wuz 'bout 21 years old when us married. Us never had no chillun and +my wife done been daid for all dese long years, I don't know how many. I +can't wuk and I jus' has to stay hyar wid my daid brother's chillun. Dey +is mighty good to me, but I gits awful lonesome sometimes.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'am, I ain't never seed but one ghost. Late one night, I wuz +comin' by de graveyard and seed somethin' dat looked lak a dog 'ceppin' +it warn't no dog. It wuz white and went in a grave. It skeered me so I +made tracks gittin' 'way from dar in a hurry and I ain't never bean +'round no more graveyards at night.</p> + +<p>"When I passes by de old graveyard on Jackson Street, I 'members lots of +folkses whats buried dar, bofe white folkses and slaves too, for den +white folkses put dey slaves whar dey aimed to be buried deyselves. Dat +sho' used to be a fine graveyard.</p> + +<p>"Us all gwine to git together someday when us all leaves dis old world. +I'm ready to go; jus' a-waitin' for de Lord to call me home, and I ain't +skeered to face de Lord who will judge us all de same, 'cause I done +tried to do right, and I ain't 'fraid to die."</p> + +<p>Uncle Willis was tired and sent a little boy to the store for milk. As +the interviewer took her departure he said: "Good-bye Missy. God bless +you. Jus' put yourself in de hands of de Lord, for dey ain't no better +place to be."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ColbertMary"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +MARY COLBERT, Age 84<br> +168 Pearl Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Ga.</h3> +<br> + +<p>(<b>NOTE:</b> This is the first story we have had in which the client did not +use any dialect. Mary Colbert's grammar was excellent. Her skin was +almost white, and her hair was quite straight.</p> + +<p>None of us know what a "deep" slave was. It may have the same meaning as +outlandish Negro. The "outlandish Negroes" were those newly arrived +Negroes who had just come in from any country outside of the United +States of America, and were untrained. They were usually just from +Africa.</p> + +<p>Sarah H. Hall)</p> + + +<p>With the thermometer registering 93 degrees in the shade on a +particularly humid July day, the visitor trudged up one steep, rocky +alley and down another, hesitantly negotiated shaky little bridges over +several ravines, scrambled out of a ditch, and finally arrived at the +address of Mary Colbert. It was the noon hour. A Negro man had tied his +mule under an apple tree in one corner of Mary's yard. The animal was +peacefully munching hay while his master enjoyed lunch from a battered +tin bucket. Asked if Mary was at home, the man replied: "Yessum, jus' +call her at de door."</p> + +<p>A luxuriant Virginia creeper shaded the front porch of Mary's five-room +frame house, where a rap on the front door brought the response: "Here I +am, honey! Come right on through the house to the back porch." The aged +mulatto woman was hanging out clothes on a line suspended between two +peach trees. To the inquiry for Mary, she answered: "Yes, Honey, this is +Mary. They say I am old, childish, and hellish; anyway, this is Mary."</p> + +<p>"Dear, let's go in my parlor," she suggested in a cultured voice. "I +wouldn't dare go out on the front porch wearing this dirty dress. It +simply isn't my way of living." Mary is about five feet tall and wears +her straight, snowy-white hair in a neat knot low on the back of her +head. The sparkle in her bright brown eyes bespeaks a more youthful +spirit than her wrinkled and almost white face would indicate. She was +wearing a soiled print dress, brown cotton hose, and high-topped black +shoes. In remarkably good English for one of her race she told that her +daughter's family lives with her, "so that I won't be right by myself." +Then she began her story:</p> + +<p>"Honey, what is it you want me to tell you. Where was I born? Oh, my +child! I was born right here in dear old hilly Athens. Yes, that's where +I was born. Polly Crawford was my mother, and she belonged to Major +William H. Crawford before he gave her to his son, Marse John Crawford. +Now about my father, that is the dream. He died when I was just a little +child. They said he was Sandy Thomas and that he was owned by Marster +Obadiah Thomas, who lived in Oglethorpe County. All I can remember about +my grandparents is this: When I found my grandma, Hannah Crawford, she +was living on Major Crawford's plantation, where Crawford, Georgia, is +now. Grandma was a little, bitty woman; so little that she wore a number +one shoe. She was brought here from Virginia to be a field hand, but she +was smart as a whip, and lived to be 118 years old. I used to tell my +mother that I wished I was named Hannah for her, and so Mother called me +Mary Hannah.</p> + +<p>"I can't bring my grandfather to mind very clearly. I do remember that +my mother took me to Penfield to see him, and told me if I wasn't a good +little girl he would surely whip me. They called him 'Uncle Campfire', +because he had such a fiery temper. For a living, after he got to be an +old man, he made cheers (chairs), but for the life of me I don't know +who he belonged to, because Major Crawford sold him before I was born.</p> + +<p>"There were five of us children: Nat, Solomon, Susannah, Sarah, and +myself. Marse John gave Solomon to his daughter, Miss Fannie, when she +married Marse William H. Gerdine. Susannah belonged to Miss Rosa Golden, +and Sarah and I belonged to the other Miss Fannie. She was Marse John's +sister. Nat was Marse John's house boy, and our mother was his cook. We +children just played around the yard until we were large enough to work.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, I was born in Marse John's back yard. He lived in a +two-story frame house on Dougherty Street, back of Scudder's School. The +two slave houses and the kitchen were set off from the house a little +piece out in the yard. It was the style then to have the kitchen built +separate from the dwelling house.</p> + +<p>"Lord bless your life, Honey! We didn't live in log cabins, as you call +them. There were two slave houses. The one Aggie lived in was two-story, +the other one had just one story and they were both weatherboarded like +Marse John's own house. The grown folks slept on beds made with tall oak +posts. There were no metal springs then and the beds were corded +instead. The straw-stuffed mattress ticks were made with plain and +striped material, and pillows were filled with cotton. We children slept +on trundle beds, which were pushed up under the big beds in the daytime, +and pulled out for us to sleep on at night.</p> + +<p>"No Ma'm, there was never any money given to me in slavery time. +Remember, Dear, when the yankees came through here, I was only ten years +old. Misses Fannie and Ann Crawford were Major Crawford's daughters, and +they kept house for Marse John. That morning in May I was wearing a +sleeveless apron, and they (Miss Fannie and Miss Ann) put a bag of gold +and silver, and some old greenback Confederate money in my apron and +told me to hold on to it. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann, both of them, patted +me on the head and said: 'Now, be a good little girl and don't move.' On +came the Blue Coats: they went all over the house searching everything +with their guns and swords shining and flashing. I was so scared the +sweat was running down my face in streams. Bless your life! When they +came to the bedroom where I was standing by a bed, holding that money +inside my apron, they didn't even glance at me the second time. Little +did they think that little slave girl had the money they were hunting +for. After the yankees were gone, I gave it all back to Miss Fannie, and +she didn't give me the first penny. If any of the money was given to my +mother she didn't tell me about it.</p> + +<p>"I am going to tell you the truth about what we had to eat, so listen +now. It was egg bread, biscuits, peas, potatoes—they they were called +'taters then—artichoke pickles, tea cakes, pies, and good old healthy +lye hominy. There was plenty of meat served, but I was not allowed to +eat that, as I was never a very strong child. I was a fool about stale +bread, such as biscuit, cornbread, and light bread. Mother was a fine +cook and her battercakes would just melt in your mouth. Of course, you +know we had no stoves in those days and the cooking was done in open +fireplaces, in ovens and pots. Oh yes! We had a garden. There was only +one on the place and enough was raised in it to feed all of the people +living there.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember eating 'possums, rabbits, squirrels and fish until I +went to Jackson, Mississippi, with Miss Rosa. There were plenty of those +meats in Mississippi and I was then getting old enough and healthy +enough to be allowed to eat them."</p> + +<p>At this point, Mary insisted on serving lunch for her visitor, saying +that she had lived with white people and knew how to cook. After a +polite refusal, the story was continued:</p> + +<p>"I was laughing at myself just the other day about those homespun +dresses and sleeveless aprons I wore as a child. I reckon that was a +sign you were coming to ask me about those things. I kept one of those +dresses of mine until my own baby girl wore it out, and now I am sorry I +let her wear it, for it would be so nice to have it to show you. We wore +just a one piece costume in summer and had calico and muslin dresses for +Sunday. Wintertime, I wore a balmoral petticoat, osnaburg drawers, and +er-r-r. Well, Jacob! I never thought I would live to see the day I'd +forget what our dresses were called. Anyway they were of woolen +material in a checked design, and were made with a full skirt gathered +on to a deep yoke. Uncle Patrick Hull—he was a deep slave belonging to +Mr. A.L. Hull—made all the shoes for Marse John's slaves. We all wore +brass-toed brogans.</p> + +<p>"Oh, good! I should smile! A better man than Marse John never lived. +Nobody better not beat his slaves. Marse John was the postmaster. He +married Miss Sallie Eden, and everybody said she was mighty good, but I +never knew her for she died when I was a baby. Marse John and his wife, +Miss Sallie, had three children. They were: Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa and +Marse Allie. Miss Annie Crawford, who teaches in the school here, is +Marse Allie's daughter. She don't know me so well, but I know mighty +well who she is. I think I have already told you that Misses Fannie and +Rosa kept house for their brother, Marse John, after their mother died.</p> + +<p>"Darling, please get this right: the plantation is a dream to me. If I +should try to tell you about it, I am sure it would be only what my +mother told me about it in the years long after the surrender. Whether +the plantation was the property of Marse John or his father, William H. +Crawford, I don't know, but I am sure there was an overseer, and I am +quite sure it was a very large plantation. You know the town of Crawford +was named for my white folks. The only thing I can be sure of, from my +own memory, is of the things that took place here in Athens.</p> + +<p>"Breakfast had to be served promptly at 7:30. When that 9:00 o'clock +bell sounded at night, God bless your soul! You had to be in your house, +and you had to be in bed by 10:00 o'clock. Marse John never punished +but just two of his slaves that I can remember, but I have seen them get +several good whippings. They were Ned and William, Aggie's and Lucy's +boys, and Marse John cowhided them for misbehaving.</p> + +<p>"There were jails during slavery time, but Marse John kept his slaves +straight himself and did not allow any of them to be taken to jail. I +have never seen slaves sold, but I have seen droves of them marching by, +being taken to Watkinsville to be sold.</p> + +<p>"No! No! Oh! No! You had better not dare let white people know that you +could read, in those days. I remember one colored man, Alfred Evans, who +used to read the Bible during slavery time. All the learning I have, I +got after we were made free. There were two colored churches in Athens; +one was Baptist and the other was Methodist. Yankee ladies came down +from the North and taught us to read and write. I have often considered +writing the history of my life and finally decided to undertake it, but +I found that it was more of a job than I had expected it to be, and then +too, I would have to tell too much, so I thought best to leave it alone.</p> + +<p>"I went to church but very little during slavery time. However, I dearly +loved to go to Sunday school, and never missed an opportunity of +attending. One of our Sunday school songs was worded something like +this:</p> + +<pre> +'I want to be an angel, + And with the angels stand.' +</pre> + +<p>"My favorite song began:</p> + +<pre> +'Around the Throne in Heaven, + Ten Thousand children stand.' +</pre> + +<p>"OO! Yes, I know how they buried folks in slavery time. For caskets they +used straight, white pine boxes that they called coffins. They didn't +have funerals like they do now. A preacher would say a few words at the +grave and then he prayed, and after that everybody sang something like: +'I will arise and go to Jesus.' I was a singer in my younger days.</p> + +<p>"All I remember 'bout Negroes going off to the North was when their +masters took them along on trips to wait on them. Bless your life! That +was one time when the ones that could read and write had the advantage. +They were usually chosen to go along so if anything happened to the +Marster on the trip, they could write back home. I never saw patrollers, +but I heard that they used to beat up Negroes who were caught away from +home without a pass. Marse John kept his slaves supplied with passes at +all necessary times.</p> + +<p>"Not all the slaves had to work on Saturday afternoons. This was their +time of the week to get together and have a little fun around their +quarters. Sunday mornings they went to church, as a rule, and on Sunday +nights they visited each other and held prayer meetings in their homes. +Don't get me wrong. They had to have passes to go visiting and attend +those prayer meetings.</p> + +<p>"Christmas time was a holiday season for slaves, and they had everything +good you could want to eat. Listen, Child, I am telling you the truth. +They even had pumpkin pie. Oh, yes! Santa Claus came to see slave +children. Once I got too smart for my own good. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann +had told us to go to bed early. They said if we weren't asleep when +Santa Claus got there, he would go away and never come back. Well, that +night I made up my mind to stay awake and see Santa Claus. Miss Fannie +and Miss Ann slipped into our quarters right easy and quiet and were +filling up stockings with candy, dolls, and everything you can imagine. +While they were doing that, they turned around and saw me with my eyes +wide open. Right there my Santa Claus ended. We didn't have any special +observance of New Year's Day. It was the same as any other day.</p> + +<p>"Mother said they had cornshuckings, quiltings, and cotton pickings on +the plantation. She told me a good deal about the cornshuckings: about +how they selected a general, whose job was to get up on top of the corn +pile and holler at the top of his voice, leading the cornshucking song, +while the others all shucked the corn and sang. After the corn was all +shucked there were always fine eats. I can remember the quiltings +myself. The women went from one house to another and quilted as many as +12 quilts in one night sometimes. After the quilts were all finished +they had a big spread of good food too. Now it takes a whole month to +quilt one quilt and nothing to eat.</p> + +<p>"What games did we play? Let me see. Oh! yes, one of them was played to +the rhyme:</p> + +<pre> +'Chickimy, chickimy, Craney Crow + I went to the well to wash my toe, + When I got back my chicken was gone + What time, Old Witch?' +</pre> + +<p>"Then we would run and chase each other. Another game was played to the +counting-out by the rhyme that started:</p> + +<pre> +'Mollie, Mollie Bright, three-score and ten.' +</pre> + +<p>"Honey, there is no use to ask me about Raw Head and Bloody Bones. When +folks started talking about that, I always left the room. It is a shame +how folks do frighten children trying to make them get quiet and go to +sleep. I don't believe in ha'nts and ghosts. Since I have been grown, I +have been around so many dead folks I have learned that the dead can't +harm you; its the living that make the trouble.</p> + +<p>"When his slaves were taken sick, Marse John always called in a doctor. +An old woman, who was known as 'Aunt Fannie,' was set aside to nurse +sick slaves. Dr. Joe Carlton was Marse John's doctor. What I am going to +tell you is no fairy tale. Once I was so sick that Marse John called in +Dr. Carlton, Dr. Richard M. Smith, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. James +Long, before they found out what was wrong with me. I had inflammatory +rheumatism and I wore out two and a half pairs of crutches before I +could walk good again. Now, Dr. Crawford Long is a great and famous man +in history, but it is sure true that he doctored on this old Negro many +years ago.</p> + +<p>"Honey, don't flatter me. Don't you know a little girl 10 years old +can't remember everything that went on that far back. A few things they +dosed the slaves with when they were sick was horehound tea, garlic +mixed with whiskey, and the worm-few (vermifuge?) tea that they gave to +Negro children for worms. That worm-few dose was given in April. +Asafetida was used on us at all times and sage tea was considered a +splendid medicine.</p> + +<p>"When news came that Negroes had been freed there was a happy jubilee +time. Marse John explained the new freedom to his slaves and we were +glad and sorry too. My mother stayed with Marse John until he died. I +was still a child and had never had to do anything more than play dolls, +and keep the children in the yard. Lord, Honey! I had a fine time those +days.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't so long after the surrender before schools for Negroes were +opened. It looked like they went wild trying to do just like their white +folks had done. As for buying homes, I don't know where they would have +gotten the money to pay for homes and land.</p> + +<p>"At the time I married I was a washerwoman for the white folks. My first +husband was Isaac Dixon, who came from some place in Alabama and had +been owned by Dr. Lipscomb, the chancelor of the university. Dr. +Lipscomb married us in the colored Methodist Church, and that night the +church was crowded to overflowing. I wore a white dress made with a long +train; that was the style then. After the ceremony, my mother served +cake and wine at her house. Our six children were prettier than you, but +only three of them lived to get grown. Our white friends named our +children. My first husband died and then I married Jones Colbert, who +belonged to Marse Fletcher Colbert of Madison County. We just went +around to the preacher's house and got married. Jones was an old man +when I married him. He was a preacher. He is dead now and so are all my +children except one. I have one grandson, and this is the shameful part +about him; his mother won't married when he was born, but of course she +married later.</p> + +<p>"Now I am going to tell you the truth as I see it. Abraham Lincoln was +an instrument of God sent to set us free, for it was God's will that we +should be freed. I never did hitch my mind on Jeff Davis; like the +children of Israel, he had his time to rule. Booker T. Washington! Well, +now I didn't give him a thought. He had to do his part. His mistress had +taught him to read.</p> + +<p>"Why did I join the church? Well, when the white folks sent their help +off to Mississippi trying to keep them slaves, my sister and I went with +Miss Rosa Crawford to Jackson. Before I left home my mother gave me an +alabaster doll and told me to be a good girl and pray every night. Well, +I never saw so many slave-houses in my life as I saw in Mississippi. +Every night when I heard a colored man named Ben praying in his room +that made me think of what my mother had told me and I grew more and +more homesick for her. Finally one night I crept into Uncle Ben's room +and asked him to tell me about God, and he did. After that, every night +I went into his room and we prayed together. Yes, Honey, I found God in +Jackson, Mississippi, and I joined the church just as soon as I could +after I got back to my mother and dear old Athens.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Honey, I was raised and loved by my own white folks and, when I +grew to be old enough and large enough, I worked for them. I have been +with, or worked for, white folks all my life and, just let me tell you, +I had the best white folks in the world, but it was by God's plan that +the Negroes were set free."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ColeJohn"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 1<br> +Ex. Slave #21<br> +(with Photograph)]<br> +<br> +[HW: "JOHN COLE"]<br> +<br> +Subject: A SLAVE REMEMBERS<br> +District: No. 1 W.P.A<br> +Editor: Edward Ficklen<br> +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p><b>A SLAVE REMEMBERS</b></p> + +<p>The front door of a little vine-clad cottage on Billups Street, in +Athens, Georgia quaked open and John Cole, ex-slave confronted a +"gov'mint man."</p> +<br> + +<a name="img_JC"></a> + +<center><p> +<img src='images/jcole.jpg' width='250' height='328' alt='John Cole'> +</p></center> + +<p>Yes, he was the son of Lucius Cole and Betsy Cole, was in his 86th year, +and remembered the time "way back" when other gov'mint men with their +strange ways had descended on Athens.</p> + +<p>And far beyond that, back to the time when they had tried him out as a +scullion boy in the big town house where his mother was the cook, but it +seemed that the trays always escaped his clumsy young hands.</p> + +<p>So "Marse Henry" had put him on the 200 acre Oglethorpe plantation as +apprentice to training of the farm horses whose large unmanageableness +he found more manageable than the dainty china of the banker's house. He +simply had followed more after his father, the carriage driver than his +mother, the cook.</p> + +<p>Of course, all fifteen of the hands worked from sun-up to sun-down, but +his aunt was the plantation cook, and it was not so bad there.</p> + +<p>The night brought no counsel, but it brought better. Stretch cow-hides +over cheese-boxes and you had tambourines. Saw bones from off a cow, +knock them together, and call it [HW: a drum]. Or use broom-straws, on +fiddle-strings, and you had your entire orchestra.</p> + +<p>Grow older, and get by the gates with a pass (you had to have a pass or +the paddle-rollers would get you,) and you had you a woman. If the woman +wasn't willing, a good, hard-working hand could always get the master to +make the girl marry him—whether or no, willy-nilly.</p> + +<p>If a hand were noted for raising up strong black bucks, bucks that would +never "let the monkey get them" while in the high-noon hoeing, he would +be sent out as a species of circuit-rider to the other plantations—to +plantations where there was over-plus of "worthless young nigger gals". +There he would be "married off" again—time and again. This was thrifty +and saved any actual purchase of new stock.</p> + +<p>Always on Saturday afternoon you would have till "first dark" for +base-ball, and from first dark till Sunday-go-to meeting for drinking +and dancing. Sunday you could go to the colored church (with benefit of +white clergy) or you could go to the white church just like real class +except you sat in the rear.</p> + +<p>No, it was not a bad life.</p> + +<p>You usually weren't sick, but if you were sick, it afforded you the +luxury of tea. Turpentine and caster oil composed the entire <i>materia +medica</i>. Turpentine was used for sore throats, cuts and bruises. +Castor oil was used for everything else except a major fracture which +called for the master sending in a doctor to the quarters.</p> + +<p>Yes, the gov'mint men with the blue uniforms and the shiny brass buttons +had descended from the North on Athens—descended in spite of the +double-barrelled cannon that the little master and the little master's +men had tried on them. The blue clad invaders had come in despite of the +quick breast-works, and the new-fangled cannon, and Bob Toombs boast +that he "could beat the damn Yankees with corn-stalks before breakfast". +(If only they had fought that way—if only they had [HW: not] needed +grape-shot had enough to invent cannon mouths that spoke at the same +time and were meant to mow down men with a long chain—if only they had +not been able to fight long after Bull Run, and after breakfast!)</p> + +<p>Yes, the Yankees had come over the classic hills of Athens (Athens that +had so many hills that she would have been named Rome except for her +first land-grant college,) had left, and had come again to stay, and to +bring freedom to John Cole and his kind.</p> + +<p>This was six months after Lee and his palandins had laid down the +sword—the gallant, the unstained (but, alas, claimed Meade's batteries) +the unconstitutional sword. Six months had gone and freedom had come.</p> + +<p>But John Cole, slave of Henry Hull, the banker, found that his freedom +was the freedom of "the big oak"—Athens famed tree-that-owns-itself. He +was free, but he had no way to go anywhere. He was rooted in the soil +and would stay fast rooted. He worked on with his master for 20 years, +without pay.</p> + +<p>Did he believe, back in slavery time in "signs" and in "sayings"—that +the itching foot meant the journey to new lands—that the hound's +midnight threnody meant murder?</p> + +<p>No, when he was a young buck and had managed the bad horses, he had had +no such beliefs. No, he was not superstitious. If the foot itched +something ought to be put on it (or taken off it)—and as to the hounds +yelping, nobody ever knew what dark-time foolishness a hound-dog might +be up to.</p> + +<p>But he was old, now. Death always comes in the afternoon. He does +believe in things that have been proved. He does believe that a +squinch-owl's screeching ("V-o-o-o-d-o-o! W-h-o-o-o? Y-ou-u!") is a sure +sign of death. Lowing of a cow in afternoon Georgia meadows means death +mighty close. If death come down to a house, better stop clock and put +white cloth on mirrors. No loud talking permitted. Better for any nigger +to bow low down to death....</p> + +<p>To what factors did he attribute his long life, queried the gov'mint +man.</p> + +<p>Long living came from leaving off smoking and drinking.</p> + +<p>Would he have a nickle cigar?</p> + +<p>He would.</p> + +<p>Yes, he was feeling quite tol'able, thank you. But he believed now in +the owl and the cow and the clock.</p> + +<p>In the morning-time one lives, but death always come in the afternoon. +Better for any nigger, anywhere, to bow low down to death.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ColeJulia"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br> +<br> +JULIA COLE, Age 78<br> +169 Yonah Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Corry Fowler<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7</h3> +<br> + +<p>A knock on the door of the comfortable little frame house which Julia +Cole shares with her daughter, Rosa, brought the response, "Who dat?" +Soon Rosa appeared. "Come in Honey and have a cheer," was her greeting +and she added that Julia had "stepped across de street to visit 'round a +little." Soon the neighborhood was echoing and reverberating as the +call, "Tell Aunt Julia somebody wants to see her at her house," was +repeated from cabin to cabin. A few moments later Julia walked in. +Yellowish gingercake in color, and of rather dumpy figure, she presented +a clean, neat appearance. She and her daughter, who cooks for a +dentist's family, take much pride in their attractively furnished home. +Julia was of pleasant manner and seemed anxious to tell all that she +could. It is doubtful if Rosa made much progress with her ironing in an +adjoining room, for every few minutes she came to the door to remind her +mother of some incident that she had heard her tell before.</p> + +<p>Julia began her story by saying: "I was born in Monroe, Georgia and +b'longed to Marster John Grant. My Mamma was Mittie Johnson, and she +died de year 'fore de war ended. I don't 'member my Pa. Mamma had four +chillun. Richard and Thomas Grant was my brothers, but me and my sister +Hattie was Johnsons. Marse John had a big plantation and a heap of +slaves. Dey was rich, his folks was. Dey is de folks dat give Grant's +Park to Atlanta.</p> + +<p>"Dey called my grandpa, 'Uncle Abram.' Atter he had wukked hard in de +field all day, he would jus' lay down on a bench at night and sleep +widout pullin' off his clothes. Us had home-made beds in de cabins +widout no paint on 'em. Evvything slaves had was home-made, jus' +wooden-legged things. Even de coffins was made at home out of pine wood. +Now me, I didn't sleep in de cabin much. I slept on a little trundle bed +up at de big house. In de daytime my bed was pushed back up under one of +de big beds.</p> + +<p>"Marse John's son, Marse Willie Grant, blowed de bugle in de mornin's by +4 o'clock to git de slaves up in time to be in de fields by daybreak. +When slaves got too old to wuk, dey took keer of de chillun in a house +down below de kitchen. Mamma wukked in de field when she was able. +Nobody on our place had to wuk in de fields on Sadday evenin's. Dat was +de time de 'omans washed deir clothes and cleaned up.</p> + +<p>"Chillun didn't have much to do. Us loved to hunt for turkey nests +'cause dey give us a teacake for evvy turkey egg us fetched in. Chillun +et in de yard at de big house, whar dey give us plenty of meat and +cornbread wid good vegetables for dinner. For breakfast and supper, us +had mostly buttermilk and cornbread. On Sundays us had bread made from +wheat flour and sopped good old syrup wid it. Sometimes Marse John would +give us 'mission to kill little pigs at night and broil 'em over de +coals in our yards, and how us did enjoy 'em! I ain't never suffered for +nothin' in all my life, 'cause de Grants was mighty good white folks. De +old White home on Prince Avenue was deir summer home. When dey built it, +woods was all 'round and dere warn't many houses in dat section.</p> + +<p>"Us had plenty of clothes made out of homespun checks, and Marse John +give us brass-toed shoes. Our dresses was well sewed and made wid belts +to 'em. Nobody went 'bout half naked on our plantation lak some of de +old folks f'um other farms talks 'bout. Us had good well-made clothes, +even if dey was made out of common cloth.</p> + +<p>"Nobody on our plantation run away to de North, and de paddyrollers +didn't git nobody at our place neither. Marse John was too good to +evvybody for his slaves to want to cut up and run 'way and do things to +make de paddyrollers hunt 'em down. Dey didn't have no jails 'cause dey +didn't need none on our place. Sometimes Marse John made a colored man +named Uncle Jim Cooper give 'em a good whuppin' when dey needed it.</p> + +<p>"When us was sick, dey give us herbs and things of dat sort. In de +springtime, dey give us jerusalem oak seed in syrup for nine mornin's +and by den us was allus rid of de worms. Dey 'tended to slave chillun so +good and dutiful dat dere warn't many of 'em died, and I don't never +'member no doctor comin' to my Mamma's house.</p> + +<p>"Old Missus used to teach us in da blue back speller, and when I didn't +know my lesson she made me run f'um de house to de gyarden gate for +punishment. De more words I missed; de more times I had to run. Us had +our own church services on de plantation under home-made brush arbors, +and our colored preacher was Uncle Charles Cooper.</p> + +<p>"Once some sojers come by our place lookin' for Marse John. He had done +hid in de loft of de meat house and told evvybody on de place dey better +not tell whar he was. Dey didn't find Marse John, but dey did find his +son, Marse Willie, and dey tuk him 'long wid 'em. Marse Willie was de +only chile dat Marster and Missus had and it nearly killed 'em for him +to be tuk 'way from 'em. When Mr. Lincoln's general got to our place he +was a-ridin' a big red hoss dat sho' was a grand animal. Dem sojers went +in de smokehouses and stores evvywhar and tuk what dey wanted.</p> + +<p>"Not long 'fore de war ended, my Mamma tuk a 'lapse f'um measles and +died. 'Fore she died, she sont for Marse John and told him what she +wanted done, and he done jus' what she axed. She give him my brothers, +Richard and Thomas, and told him to take dem two boys and to make men +out of 'em by makin' 'em wuk hard. I jus' lak to have died when my Mamma +died. Dey carried her to de graveyard and put her down in de grave and I +jus' couldn't help it; I jumped right down in dat grave wid her, and dey +had to take me out. My brothers said I was plum crazy dat day.</p> + +<p>"Atter de war was over, Marster moved his family to Atlanta on Peachtree +Street. His grandson dat was born dat year died not long ago. Dey didn't +have no farm in Atlanta and so dey didn't need all deir old servants. My +sister Hattie was a baby and Auntie tuk her to Atlanta wid de Grants.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what 'come of de others on Marster's farm. I had to git in +a covered wagon and come wid my Uncle Jordan Johnson to Athens. I didn't +want to leave, and I hid down under our things in de wagon when dey made +me come. When us crossed de river, I was sho' us was 'bout to git +drownded. One time atter dat us tuk a trip to Madison to see de old +breastplates (breastworks) dar.</p> + +<p>"My brother Tom got to be captain of a colored troop dat went to de +Philippine Islands. Over dar de sojers kilt a big snake and et it all +but de head. He had dat thing stuffed and brought it home. Atter he left +de army, he got a job in de Atlanta Post Office whar he wukked 'til he +was 'tired.</p> + +<p>"I was hired out to de Marks family and stayed dar for years and dat was +a mighty good place to be hired out. I was married twice. Me and Crit +Clayton married at home. I ain't never seed nothin' lak dat pretty +flowerdy weddin' dress dat I wore and I had de prettiest hat and things +dat I ever seed. My next husband was Andrew Cole—He was Rosa's Pa. I +forgits de name of de white preacher dat married us when us went to his +house and axed him to. Four of our seven chillun is still livin'.</p> + +<p>"Dey tells me our old big house near Monroe is standin' yit, and I sho' +do wish I could see it once more 'fore I die, but since I broke my hip a +few years ago I jus' don't ride in dem automobiles. No Ma'am, I don't +limp. De Lord was good to heal my hip and I ain't takin' no chances on +breakin' no more of my bones."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ColquittMartha"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +MARTHA COLQUITT, Age 85<br> +190 Lyndon Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>The aged Negress leaned heavily on her cane as she shuffled about her +tiny porch in the waning sunlight of a cold January day. An airplane +writing an advertising slogan in letters of smoke high in the sky was +receiving but indifferent attention from Aunt Martha. Sha shivered and +occasionally leaned against a post until a paroxysm of coughing +subsided. "What would you have thought of that if it had suddenly +appeared in the sky when you were a child?" she was asked. "It would +have scared me plum to death," was the response. "I didn't come out here +just to see dat," she continued, "I didn't have nothin' to make no fire +wid, and I had to git out in de sunshine 'cause it wuz too cold to stay +in de house. It sho' is mighty bad to have to go to bed wid cold feet +and cough all night long."</p> + +<p>Her visitor could not resist the impulse to say, "Let's make a trade, +Aunt Martha! If I give you a little money will you buy wood; then while +you enjoy the fire will you think back over your life and tell me about +your experiences when I come back tomorrow?" "Bless de Lord! I sho' will +be glad to tell you de truf 'bout anything I can 'member," was her quick +reply as she reached for the money.</p> +<br> + +<p><b>[TR: Return Visit]</b></p> + +<p>The next day Aunt Martha was in bed, slowly eating a bowl of potlicker +and turnip greens into which cornbread had been crumbled.</p> + +<p>"My ches' hurt so bad I couldn't git up today," was her greeting, "but +set right dar by my bed and I can talk all right, long as I don't have +to walk 'bout none. Walkin' makes me cough."</p> + +<p>Soon the bowl was empty and when she had wiped her mouth with the sleeve +of her nightgown, Aunt Martha began:</p> + +<p>"When I wuz born, my ma b'longed to Marse Billie Glenn and us lived on +his big plantation way down below Lexin'ton. My pa wuz Anderson +Mitchell. He come from Milledgeville and b'longed to Mr. D. Smith. The +Smithies lived close by Marse Billie's place. My ma wuz Healon Mitchell. +I don't know what her last name wuz 'fore she married. She wuz born in +Virginny, and her and my grandma wuz sold and brought to Georgia when ma +wuz a baby. Grandma never did see none of her other chillun or her +husband no more, and us never did hear nothin' 'bout 'em.</p> + +<p>"Ma had four chillun. Lucy wuz my onlies' sister. Mr. Davenport bought +her and she growed up at his place, what wuz called 'De Glade.' It wuz a +big fine place at Point Peter, Georgia. Lucy married a Taylor.</p> + +<p>"My brother, Isaac, wuz raised at Mr. Hamilton's place at Point Peter. +After he growed up, he worked in Atlanta and bought him a home dar. He +got in a fight wid a man what had done stobbed his mule, and de man hurt +Isaac so bad he went crazy and died in de 'sylum at Milledgeville, but +dey took him back and buried him in Atlanta.</p> + +<p>"My other brother wuz Anderson Mitchell, and after freedom come he got +work in Athens at de compress. His boss man moved to Augusta and took +Anderson wid him to work in de compress dar. One day somethin' blowed up +and he wuz scalded so bad it paralyzed him. Dey brought him back here, +but he soon died.</p> + +<p>"Ma's house was right on de edge of Marse Billie's yard, 'cause she was +de cook. Grandma lived in de same house wid ma and us chillun, and she +worked in de loom house and wove cloth all de time. She wove de checkidy +cloth for de slaves clo'es, and she made flannel cloth too, leaseways, +it wuz part flannel. She made heaps of kinds of cloth.</p> + +<p>"Our beds had big home-made posties and frames, and us used ropes for +springs. Grandma brought her feather bed wid her from Virginny, and she +used to piece up a heap of quilts outen our ole clo'es and any kind of +scraps she could get a holt of. I don't know what de others had in dey +cabins 'cause ma didn't 'low her chillun to visit 'round de other +folkses none.</p> + +<p>"Ma's chillun all had vittals from de white folkses kitchen. After Marse +Billie's fambly done et and left de table, de cook wuz s'posed to take +what wuz left to feed de house niggers and her own chillun, and us did +have sho' 'nuff good vittals. All de other slave folks had day rations +weighed out to 'em every week and dey cooked in dey own cabins. When de +wheat wuz ground at de mill it made white flour, and shorts, and +seconds. Most of de shorts wuz weighed out in rations for de slave +folks. Now and den at Christmas and special times dey got a little white +flour. Dey liked cornbread for reg'lar eatin'. Dey wuz always lots of +hogs on Marse Billie's plantation, and his colored folkses had plenty of +side meat. Slaves never had no time to hunt in de day time, but dey sho' +could catch lots of 'possums at night, and dey knowed how to git catfish +at night too.</p> + +<p>"'Cross de road from de Big 'Ouse, Marse Billie had a big gyarden, and +he seed dat his help had plenty of somethin' good to bile. Dey won't no +separate gyardens. Dey didn't have no time to work no gyardens of dey +own.</p> + +<p>"In summertime us chillun wore just one piece of clo'es. It wuz a sack +apron. In winter grandma made us yarn underskirts and yarn drawers +buttoned down over our knees. Ma made our home-knit stockings. Dey +called our brass toed shoes 'brogans.' I don't speck you ever seed a +brass toed shoe!</p> + +<p>"Our Big 'Ouse sho' wuz one grand fine place. Why, it must have been as +big as de Mill Stone Baptist Church! It wuz all painted white wid green +blinds and had a big old high porch dat went nigh all 'round de house.</p> + +<p>"If I ever did hear what Marse Billie's wife wuz named, I done plum +clear forgot. Us called her 'Mist'ess' long as she lived and I don't +recollect hearin' her called nothin' else. Marster and Mist'ess never +had no little chillun whilst I was dar. Miss Lizzie wuz dey youngest +child and she wuz most grown when I wuz born.</p> + +<p>"Marse Billie's overseer lived in a four-room house up de road a piece +from the Big 'Ouse. Nobody thought 'bout none of Marse Billie's +overseers as pore white folkses. Every overseer he ever had wuz decent +and 'spectable. Course dey won't in de same class wid Marse Billie's +fambly, but dey was all right. Dey wuz four or five homes nigh our +plantation, but all of 'em b'longed to rich white folkses. If dey wuz +any pore white folkses 'round dar, us chillun never heared nothin' of +'em.</p> + +<p>"I don't know just how many slaves Marse Billie had, but dey sho' was a +drove of 'em. Sometimes he had 'em all git together in de back yard at +de Big 'Ouse, and dey just filled up de yard.</p> + +<p>"De overseer blowed a horn to wake 'em up just 'fore day, so as +everybody could cook, eat, and git out to de fields by sunrise. Dey quit +nigh sundown, in time for 'em to feed de stock, do de milkin', tend to +bringin' in de wood, and all sorts of other little jobs dat had to be +done 'fore it got too dark to see. Dey never wuz no work done at night +on our plantation.</p> + +<p>"If any of Marse Billie's help wuz whipped, I never knowed nothin' 'bout +it. Dey used to say dat if any of 'em didn't work right de overseer +would take 'em to de workshop. Us chillun never did know what happened +when dey took 'em to de workshop. It wuz too fur away for us to hear +what happened dar. De workshop was a big lone shed off to itself, whar +dey had da blacksmith place, and whar harness wuz mended, and all sorts +of fixin' done to de tools and things.</p> + +<p>"Us never heared of no jail. Marse Billie bossed his place and us never +knowed 'bout no trouble. De workshop wuz de nighest thing to a jail or a +court dat anybody on our plantation knowed anything 'bout. Us never seed +nobody in chains 'til long atter de War, when us wuz livin' in +Lexin'ton, and Mr. Jim Smith come through dar wid some colored folkses +all chained up, but us never did know how come dey wuz chained.</p> + +<p>"No slave never runned away fron Marse Billie's plantation. Dey never +even wanted to try. Dey wuz always 'fraid dey might not be able to take +as good keer of deyselves as Marse Billie did for 'em, and dey didn't +know what would happen to 'em off de plantation.</p> + +<p>"I heared 'em talkin' 'bout paterollers, but I never did see one. +Folkses said dey would git you and beat you if dey cotch you off de +plantation whar you b'longed 'thout no pass. If any of Marse Billie's +slaves got cotched by de paterollers, I never knowed nothin' 'bout it.</p> + +<p>"I never heared of no trouble twixt de white folkses and dey colored +folkses. Grandma and ma never 'lowed us to go to no other cabins, and us +didn't hear 'bout no talk what wuz goin' on 'mongst de others. At night +ma always spinned and knit, and grandma, she sewed, makin' clo'es for us +chillun. Dey done it 'cause dey wanted to. Dey wuz workin' for deyselves +den. Dey won't made to work at night. On Sadday night, ma bathed all her +chillun. I don't know what de other famblies done den. Slaves wuz 'lowed +to frolic Sadday night, if dey b'haved deyselves. On Sunday nights dey +most always had prayer meetings.</p> + +<p>"On Christmas mornin' all of us would come up to de yard back of de Big +'Ouse and Marse Billie and de overseer handed out presents for all. Dey +wuz a little dram and cake too. Us chillun got dolls, and dresses, and +aprons. Them stuffed rag dolls wuz de prettiest things! On New Year's +day all de mens would come up to de Big 'Ouse early in de morning and +would work lively as dey could a-cuttin' wood and doing all sorts of +little jobs 'til de dinner bell rung. Den Marse Billie would come out +and tell 'em dey wuz startin' de New Year right a-workin' lively and +fast. Den he would say dat dey would be fed good and looked atter good, +long as dey worked good. He give 'em a good taste of dram and cake all +'round, and let 'em go back to dey cabins for dinner, and dey could +have de rest of de day to frolic.</p> + +<p>"Dem cornshuckin's us used to have sho' wuz a sight. Corn would be piled +up high as dis house, and de folkses would dance 'round and holler and +whoop. Ma 'lowed us chillun to watch 'em 'bout a half hour; den made us +come back inside our cabin, 'cause dey always give de corn shuckin' +folkses some dram, and things would git mighty lively and rough by de +time all de corn wuz shucked.</p> + +<p>"On bright moonshiny nights folkses would invite de neighbors to come +for cotton pickin's. After the cotton wuz picked dey would eat barbecue, +and dance and have a big time.</p> + +<p>"I never seed but one weddin' 'fore freedom come, and dat wuz when Marse +Billie's daughter, Miss Lizzie Glenn, married Mr. Deadwyler. Dey had +everything at dat weddin'. Yes, Ma'am, just everything. Miss Lizzie had +on a white silk dress a-trailin' so far behind her dat it took two +ladies to tote her train. Her veil wuz floatin' all 'bout her, and she +wuz just de prettiest thing I ever did see in my whole life. A long time +atter dat, Mr. Deadwyler, he died, and left Miss Lizzie wid two chillun, +and she married Mr. Roan.</p> + +<p>"I never seed no slave marriage. Ma went to 'em sometimes, but she never +'lowed us to go, 'cause she said us wuz too little. Marse Billie sont +atter his own preacher, and de couple would come up to de Big 'Ouse and +stand in de parlor door to be married 'fore Marster and Mist'ess. Den de +colored folkses would go back down to da cabins and have a weddin' +supper and frolic and dance. Dat's what ma told me 'bout 'em.</p> + +<p>"Us used to play lots, but us never did have no special name for our +playin'. 'Swingin' the Corner,' wuz when us all jined hands in a low +row, and de leader would begin to run 'round in circles, and at de other +end of de line dey would soon be runnin' so fast dey wuz most flyin'.</p> + +<p>"Us all de time heared folkses talkin' 'bout voodoo, but my grandma wuz +powerful 'ligious, and her and ma told us chillun voodoo wuz a no 'count +doin' of de devil, and Christians wuz never to pay it no 'tention. Us +wuz to be happy in de Lord, and let voodoo and de devil alone. None of +us liked to hear scritch owls holler, 'cause everybody thought it meant +somebody in dat house wuz goin' to die if a scritch owl lit on your +chimney and hollered, so us would stir up de fire to make the smoke +drive him away. I always runned out and tried to see 'em, but old as I +is, nigh 86, I ain't never seed no scritch owl.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ma'am, I sho' does b'lieve in ha'nts, 'cause I done heared one and +I seed it too, leasewise I seed its light. It wuz 'bout 30 years ago, +and us had just moved in a house whar a white fambly had moved out. The +ma had died a few days atter a little baby wuz born, and de baby had +died too. One night I heared a strange sound like somebody movin' 'round +in de house, and pretty soon a dim light comes a-movin' into my room +real slow and atter goin' 'round de room it went out of sight in de +closet.</p> + +<p>"Next day I went to see de white folkses what had lived dar 'fore us +moved in, and de husband tole me not to worry, dat it wuz his wife's +ha'nt. He said she wuz huntin' for some money she had hid in de house, +'cause she wanted her chillun what wuz still livin' to have it. I went +back home and 'most tore dat house down lookin' for dat money. Long as +us lived dar I would see dat light now and den at night, and I always +hoped it would lead me to de money but it never did.</p> + +<p>"When folkses got sick, Marse Billie had 'em looked atter. Mist'ess +would come every day to see 'bout 'em, and if she thought dey wuz bad +off, she sont atter Dr. Davenport. Dr. Davenport come dar so much 'til +he courted and married Marse Billie's daughter, Miss Martha Glenn. I wuz +named for Miss Martha. Dey sho' did take special good keer of de mammies +and de babies. Dey had a separate house for 'em, and a granny 'oman who +didn't have nothin' else to do but look atter colored babies and +mammies. De granny 'oman took de place of a doctor when de babies wuz +born, but if she found a mammy in a bad fix she would ax Mist'ess to +send for Dr. Davenport.</p> + +<p>"Us didn't have no separate church for colored folkses. De white folkses +had a big Baptist church dey called Mill Stone Church down at Goosepond, +a good ways down de road from Marse Billie's plantation. It sho' wuz a +pretty sight to see, dat church, all painted white and set in a big oak +grove. Colored folkses had dey place in de gallery. Dey won't 'lowed to +jine de church on Sunday, but dey had reg'lar Sadday afternoons for de +slaves to come and 'fess dey faith, and jine de church. Us didn't know +dey wuz no other church but de Baptist. All de baptizin' wuz done on +Sunday by de white preacher. First he would baptize de white folkses in +de pool back of de church and den he would baptize de slaves in de same +pool.</p> + +<p>"My grandma wuz a powerful Christian 'oman, and she did love to sing +and shout. Dat's how come Marse Billie had her locked up in de loom room +when de Yankee mens come to our plantation. Grandma would git to +shoutin' so loud she would make so much fuss nobody in de church could +hear de preacher and she would wander off from de gallery and go +downstairs and try to go down de white folkses aisles to git to de altar +whar de preacher wuz, and dey wuz always lockin' her up for 'sturbin' +worship, but dey never could break her from dat shoutin' and wanderin' +'round de meetin' house, atter she got old.</p> + +<p>"Dem Yankee sojers rode up in de Big 'Ouse yard and 'gun to ax me +questions 'bout whar Marse Billy wuz, and whar everything on de place +wuz kept, but I wuz too skeered to say nuthin'. Everything wuz quiet and +still as could be, 'cept for Grandma a-singin' and a-shoutin' up in de +loom house all by herself. One of dem Yankees tried the door and he axed +me how come it wuz locked. I told him it wuz 'cause grandma had 'sturbed +de Baptist meetin' wid her shoutin'. Dem mens grabbed de axe from de +woodpile and busted de door down. Dey went in and got grandma. Dey axed +her 'bout how come she wuz locked up, and she told 'em de same thing I +had told 'em. Dey axed her if she wuz hongry, and she said she wuz. Den +dey took dat axe and busted down de smokehouse door and told her she wuz +free now and to help herself to anything she wanted, 'cause everything +on de plantation wuz to b'long to de slaves dat had worked dar. Dey took +grandma to de kitchen and told ma to give her some of de white folkses +dinner. Ma said 'But de white folkses ain't et yet.' 'Go right on,' de +Yankees said, 'and give it to her, de best in de pot, and if dey's +anything left when she gets through, maybe us will let de white folkses +have some of it.'</p> + +<p>"Dem brash mens strutted on through de kitchen into de house and dey +didn't see nobody else down stairs. Upstairs dey didn't even have de +manners to knock at Mist'ess' door. Dey just walked right on in whar my +sister, Lucy, wuz combin' Mist'ess' long pretty hair. They told Lucy she +wuz free now and not to do no more work for Mist'ess. Den all of 'em +grabbed dey big old rough hands into Mist'ess' hair, and dey made her +walk down stairs and out in de yard, and all de time dey wuz a-pullin' +and jerkin' at her long hair, tryin' to make her point out to 'em whar +Marse Billie had done had his horses and cattle hid out. Us chilluns wuz +a-cryin' and takin' on 'cause us loved Mist'ess and us didn't want +nobody to bother her. Dey made out like dey wuz goin' to kill her if she +didn't tell 'em what dey wanted to know, but atter a while dey let her +alone.</p> + +<p>"Atter dey had told all de slaves dey could find on de place not to do +no more work, and to go help deyselves to anything dey wanted in de +smokehouse, and 'bout de Big 'Ouse and plantation, dey rode on off, and +us never seed no more of 'em. Atter de Yankees wuz done gone off Grandma +'gun to fuss: 'How, dem sojers wuz tellin' us what ain't so, 'cause +ain't nobody got no right to take what belongs to Marster and Mist'ess.' +And Ma jined in: 'Sho' it ain't no truf in what dem Yankees wuz +a-sayin', and us went right on living' just like us always done 'til +Marse Billie called us together and told us de war wuz over and us wuz +free to go whar us wanted to go, and us could charge wages for our work.</p> + +<p>"When freedom comed my pa wanted us to move off right away over to Mr. +Smithies' place so our family could be together, but us stayed on wid +Marse Billie de rest of dat year. Den pa and ma moved to Lexin'ton, whar +pa digged walls and ditches and made right good pay. Ma took all four of +us chillun and run a good farm. Us got along fine.</p> + +<p>"'Fore de War, all work stopped on de plantation for de funeral of a +slave. Grandma didn't think chillun ought to see funerals, so de first +one I ever seed, wuz when ma died two years atter de War wuz done over. +A jackleg colored preacher talked, but he didn't have sense 'nuff to +preach a sho' 'nuff sermon.</p> + +<p>"Us heared a heap 'bout dem Ku Kluxers, but none of my folks never even +seed any of 'em. Dey wuz s'posed to have done lots of beatin' of colored +folks, but nobody knowed who dem Ku Kluxers wuz.</p> + +<p>"A long time atter de War I got married to Traverse Colquitt. De weddin' +took place at my sister's house, and us sho' did have a big weddin' and +a fine dinner afterwards. Den next day my husband carried me to whar he +wuz born, and his ma give us another big fine dinner. She had a table +longer dan this room, and it wuz just loaded with all sorts of good +things. De white folkses dat my husband had used to work for had sent +some of de good vittals.</p> + +<p>"Most of my life atter de War wuz spent in Lexin'ton. Does you know +anythin' 'bout Mr. John Bacon dat used to run de only hotel dar den? +Well, I worked for him for many a year. His daughter, Miss Mamie Bacon, +lives here in Athens and she is old and feeble like me. She lives 'bout +four blocks from here, and whenever I'se able to walk dat far, I goes to +see her to talk 'bout old times, and to git her to 'vise me how to git +along. I sho'ly does love Miss Mamie.</p> + +<p>"My husband died 'bout a year ago. Us had eight boys and two girls, but +dey ain't but four of our chillun livin' now. Least, I thinks dey is all +four alive. Two of my sons lives somewhar in Alabama, and one son stays +in New York. My only livin' daughter lives wid me here, pore thing! +Since she seed one of her chillun killed last year, she ain't had no +mind a t'all. I'se tryin' to look atter her and de other child. Her +husband done been dead a long time. My neighbors helps me, by bringin' +me a little to eat, when dey knows I ain't got nothin' in de house to +cook. De storekeeper lets me have a little credit, but I owe her so much +now dat I'se 'shamed to ax her to let me have anythin' else. De white +folkses on Prince Avenue is right good to let me have dey clo'es to +wash, and de young gals in the neighborhood helps me to do de washin'. I +sho' is hopin' de old age pension will soon git started comin' to me. +Some dat I know, has been gittin' dey old age pensions two or three +months. I done signed up for mine twict, so maybe it will 'gin to come +'fore I is done plum wore out."</p> + +<p>When her visitor was ready to leave, Martha hobbled to the door and bade +her an affectionate farewell. "Goodbye, Lady! I prays for you every +night. May de good Lord bless you."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DavisMinnie"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE<br> +<br> +MINNIE DAVIS, Age 78<br> +237 Billups St.<br> +Athens, Ga.<br> +<br> +Written By:<br> +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Edited By:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +WPA Residencies 6 & 7<br> +<br> +August 29, 1938</h3> +<br> + +<p>The bareness of Minnie Davis' yard was relieved by a single rosebush, +and her small house might best be described as a "tumble-down shack." An +unsteady wooden box served as a step to the fragment of porch before the +front door.</p> + +<p>"Good mornin', Mam," was the greeting of a Negro man who hastened to +answer the visitor's knock at the door. "Yes Mam, Miss Minnie's at +home." He turned, tapped on the door of one of the four rooms adjoining +the hall, and called: "Miss Minnie, a white lady wants to see you." +Minnie hobbled to the door and invited the visitor to her bedroom, where +a suite of handsome walnut furniture reflected the period when marble +tops were standard parts of dressers and washstands. A low chair, an old +table, and a rusty heater completed the furnishings of the room.</p> + +<p>Age and ill health have not dealt kindly with Minnie, and her short-cut, +kinky hair is almost white, but her eyes and face retain a remarkably +youthful appearance. She is a small thin woman of gingercake color and, +despite the sweltering heat, she wore a pink flannel nightgown, faded +and dingy, and a pair of high top black shoes, so badly run over that +she hobbled along on the sides of them. Minnie is well educated, and +she taught school for so long that her speech is remarkably free of +dialect.</p> + +<p>When the nature of the visit was explained, Minnie said: "A white woman +has been here several times before, but I was sick and didn't understand +clearly what she wanted me to tell her." She then explained that she did +not care to talk for publication at all. She said she was hungry and had +nothing at all in the house to eat. Her nephew, Ed, an ex-postman lived +with her, she explained, and he would go for food if there was any +money. She might feel like talking a little if she had a little +something to eat. The interviewer provided the cash and Ed soon returned +with a pint of milk and some cinnamon rolls. After her repast, Minnie +began to talk, giving the impression that every word was carefully +weighed before it was uttered.</p> + +<p>"I was born in Greene County near Penfield, Georgia," she said. "Aggie +Crawford was my mother and she was married to Jim Young. My only sister +was Mariah, and my three brothers were Ned, John, and Jim. Ned was a +mulatto. I know who his father was, but of course you won't ask me that. +I wouldn't want to expose my own mother or the man who was Ned's father. +I was quite a small child during the war period, and I can tell you very +little of that time, except the things my mother told me when I grew old +enough to remember. My mother belonged to the Crawford family in Greene +County, but when I knew anything we were living in Athens and were the +slaves of Marster John Crawford.</p> + +<p>"As children we played around the yard; those of us who were old enough +had odd jobs to do. The unceiled house that my father and mother shared +with three other families was weatherboarded and had a chimney made of +sticks and dirt. There was a bed in each corner of the room and from one +to three children slept in the bed with their parents: the rest of the +children slept on the floor. The tall old home-made wooden beds had very +much the appearance of beds used now, except that cords were used +instead of the metal springs that came into use later. Our osnaburg +mattress ticks were filled with straw. I'm quite sure there were no +pillows. There was also a two-story house on the lot for slaves." She +was asked what she called her father and mother during slavery time, and +her reply was: "I have always said father and mother because I liked it +better, and the Bible teaches us to say that.</p> + +<p>"Grandmother Dilsey and grandfather Levi Crawford lived in Lexington. I +saw my grandmother one time, but I don't know what she did at the white +folks' house. Grandfather was a carpenter.</p> + +<p>"I never got any money in slavery time. If the slaves ever got any, it +was when the Yankees came through here. At that time the white people +gave their money to the slaves for safekeeping, and after the Yankees +went on it was returned to the white owners.</p> + +<p>"My mother was the cook and looked after the house. Oh, yes indeed, we +had good food to eat. Bread, milk, meat, collard greens, turnips, and +potatoes. I would say we had just everything that was grown in the +garden and on the plantations to eat at that time. The cooking was done +in the kitchen in the yard. The fireplace was as wide as the end of this +room, and a long iron bar extended from one end to the other. The great +cooking pots were suspended over the coals from this bar by means of pot +hooks. Heavy iron skillets with thick lids were much used for baking, +and they had ovens of various sizes. I have seen my mother bake +beautiful biscuits and cakes in those old skillets, and they were ideal +for roasting meats. Mother's batter cakes would just melt in your mouth +and she could bake and fry the most delicious fish. There was no certain +thing that I liked to eat more than anything else in those days. I was +young and had a keen appetite for all good things. Miss Fannie and Miss +Susan often made candy and it was so good I could have eaten all they +made, had they given it to me. My father hired his time out; he made and +sold gingercakes on the railroad.</p> + +<p>"In the summertime we wore homespun dresses made with a full skirt +gathered onto a tight-fitting waist. In the wintertime the dresses were +made of checked woolen material called linsey cloth. For underwear, we +wore balmoral petticoats and osnaburg drawers. We went barefooted most +of the time. I remember one particular time when the ground was frozen +and I went about without any shoes, but it didn't bother me. Barefooted +children seldom had bad colds in winter. We wore just anything on +Sunday, but we had to look nice and clean.</p> + +<p>"Marster John Crawford, son of the distinguished William H. Crawford, +was my owner. Indeed, he was good to us. I'll tell you after awhile +about the time he wouldn't let the town marshal whip my mother. They +told me his wife was a fine woman and that she was as good to her slaves +as she could be. She died very young in life and Marse John's sisters, +Miss Fannie and Miss Susan, kept house for him after that. Marse John's +three children were Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa, and Marse Allie. Miss Rosa +married Marse Tom Golden, and Miss Fannie married a Gerdine; I've +forgotten his first name.</p> + +<p>"Marse John may have had an overseer on one of his plantations, but I +don't remember. I do know he didn't have a carriage driver for he didn't +have a carriage. I don't believe I can describe the peculiar shape of +his fine eight-room house. It was on Dougherty Street, right back of +Scudder's School. The Crawfords were considered very uppity people and +their slaves were uppish too. Marse John didn't have many slaves and +they had to get up and get going early every morning. Marse John was +postmaster of Athens and had to be in his office by eight o'clock every +morning so he ordered that his breakfast be served regularly at +seven-thirty.</p> + +<p>"No Mam, our white folks didn't teach their slaves to read and write +because it was against the law. However, they did read the Bible to us, +and the slaves that were smart enough, were asked to repeat the verses +they had learned from hearing Miss Fannie, Miss Sue, and Marse John +read. The Crawford children were caught teaching my mother to read and +write, but they were made to stop. Mother was quick to learn and she +never gave up. She would steal the newspapers and read up about the war, +and she kept the other slaves posted as to how the war was progressing. +She knew when the war was over, almost as soon as Marse John did.</p> + +<p>"I don't recall any certain reason why the slaves were punished; they +needed it, I'm sure of that. Some folks need to be punished now. Miss +Sue, as we called her, whipped the slaves for misbehavior. I remember +one time there was quite a commotion. The town marshal came to our house +to whip my mother. It had been told that she had been writing letters, +asking people to buy whiskey from her, but Marse John wouldn't let the +marshal touch her. There was a jail, but I don't recall that any of +Marse John's slaves were ever put in there. I was told that his slaves +were, as a rule, well behaved and that they gave him no trouble.</p> + +<p>"Yes Mam, we went to church, that is, those of us who cared to go did. +There wasn't any separate church for colored people in Athens, that I +can remember. We went to church and Sunday School at the First +Presbyterian Church, where the slaves were allowed to sit in the +gallery. I recall that Dr. Hoyt used to pray that the Lord would drive +the Yankees back. He said that 'Niggers were born to be slaves.' My +mother said that all the time he was praying out loud like that, she was +praying to herself: 'Oh, Lord, please send the Yankees on and let them +set us free.' I wasn't enough of a singer to have a favorite song, and I +was too happy playing with the Crawford children to be interested in +going to baptizings and funerals.</p> + +<p>"I did go to my father's funeral. When he was taken sick Dr. Holt +attended his case, and it was not long before he told Marse John that +Father would never get well. When he died Mother hollered and screamed +something terrible. Miss Sue told her not to cry because, 'the Lord +knows best.' 'Yes, Miss Sue,' answered Mother, 'but you have never loved +a man to lose.' With that, they both cried. When anyone died in those +days, the people sat up all night and didn't go to bed until the +funeral was over. Now, no real sympathy is shown.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe any of Marse John's slaves ever went to the war. He was +good to them and everyone of them loved him. I heard of patterollers +chasing slaves and whipping them if they were caught away from home +without a pass, and sometimes they locked them up. However, nothing of +the kind ever happened to any of Marse John's slaves. He was a highly +respected citizen and everyone in Athens knew better than to touch his +Negroes.</p> + +<p>"After the work for the day was finished at the big house, the slaves +went to their quarters to weave cloth and sew, but when ten o'clock came +and the bell sounded, everything had to be quiet. Slaves on our place +worked Saturday afternoons the same as any other day. On Saturday nights +the young folks and a few of the older folks danced. Some of them got +passes from Marse John so they could visit around. They popped corn, +pulled candy, or just sat around and talked. Those of us who desired +went to Sunday School and church on Sundays; others stayed at home and +did their washing and ironing, and there was always plenty of that to be +done.</p> + +<p>"Christmas was a grand time at Marse John's. We had everything good to +eat under the sun at that time and, as my mother was the cook, I was +sure of getting my share of the good things. Miss Fannie and Miss Sue +played Santa Claus to slave children. I was sorry when Mary got too +smart and peeped to see what it was all about, for after that they just +came to our house and handed us the things that would have come as Santa +Claus.</p> + +<p>"New Year's Day was no different from other days, except that Marse John +gave the grown folks whiskey to drink that day like he did on Christmas +morning. They couldn't risk giving slaves much whiskey because it made +them mean, and then they would fight the white folks. They had to be +mighty careful about things like that in order to keep down uprisings.</p> + +<p>"My mother went to cornshuckings, cotton pickings, and quiltings. They +must have had wonderful times, to hear her tell it. She said that after +the corn was shucked, cotton picked, or quilts quilted, they always gave +them plenty of good things to eat and drink and let them aloose to enjoy +themselves for the balance of the night. Those things took place at +harvest time, and everyone looked forward to having a good time at that +season. Mother said that Marse John was particular with his slaves, and +wouldn't let them go just anywhere to these things.</p> + +<p>"About the only game I can remember playing as a child was a doll game. +The Crawford children would use me for the doll, and then when my turn +came to play mamma and claim one of them for my doll, Miss Fanny or Miss +Sue would appear and then I would have to be a doll for them. I didn't +mind, for I dearly loved them all.</p> + +<p>"Now about Raw Head and Bloody Bones; I am going to tell you, Miss, my +Marster's people were cultured and refined, and they wouldn't allow such +things told to their own children or to their slaves' children. They +didn't want anything said or done to frighten any little children, and +if a nurse or anyone else was caught doing such a thing, that person was +punished for it. With the heritage of training like that I could hardly +be expected to believe in such things.</p> + +<p>"Marse John was grand to sick slaves. He always sent for Dr. Moore, who +would make his examination and write out his prescription. When he left +his parting word was usually 'Give him a sound thrashing and he will get +better.' Of course he didn't mean that; it was his little joke. Dr. +Holt, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. Jones Long were sometimes called in for +consultation on particularly serious cases. We didn't like Dr. Moore and +usually begged for one of the other doctors. I don't think my white +folks used teas made of herbs, leaves or roots; they may have, but I +don't remember it. However, I do know that we wore little sacks of +asafetida around our necks to keep off diseases, and the white folks +wore it too.</p> + +<p>"On the day we learned of the surrender, the Negroes rallied around the +liberty flag pole that they set up near where the city hall is now. All +day long they cut up and there was a song they sung that day that went +something like this:</p> + +<pre> +'We rally around the flag pole of liberty, +The Union forever, Hurrah! Boys Hurrah!' +</pre> + +<p>"Next morning when the Negroes got up the white folks had cut that pole +down. We were mortally afraid of the Yankees when they appeared here a +short time after the surrender. We were afraid of the Ku Klux Klan +riders too. The Negroes did act so bad; there were lots of killings +going on for a long time after the war was supposed to be over.</p> + +<p>"Mother was glad and sorry too that she was free. Marse John had been so +good to all his slaves that none of them really wanted to leave him. We +stayed on a while, then mother left and rented a room. She worked hard +and bought a house as soon as she could; others did the same. There were +very few slaves that had any money at all to begin on.</p> + +<p>"Immediately following the surrender northern people opened Knox +Institute. One of my teachers was Miss Dora Brooks, a white woman from +the North. The principal was a white man, he was Mr. Sortur. After I +graduated from Knox Institute, I went to the Atlanta University four +years, then came back to Athens and taught school here forty years. I +taught whatever grade they assigned me to each year, never any certain +grade from year to year. First and last, I've taught from first grade +through high school. I would be teaching now if it were not for my bad +health. I receive a teacher's pension, but have never applied for an old +age pension.</p> + +<p>"My husband was Samuel B. Davis, publisher of the <i>Athens Clipper</i>. +I published this newspaper myself for a short while after his death, +then sold it. We didn't have a big wedding, just a very simple one at my +mother's house. I was married in a nice white dress, but it was nothing +fancy. Our two children were born dead. Once I had a nice home, +beautifully furnished. All I have left of it is this old house and my +good bedroom suite. The rest of my possessions have gotten away from me +during my continued illness.</p> + +<p>"I often think of Abraham Lincoln; he did a good deed for my race. Jeff +Davis was a good man and, no doubt, he thought he was doing the right +thing. Booker T. Washington was a man of brilliant mind, but he was +radically wrong in many of his views pertaining to education of the +black race. He lectured here once, but I didn't bother to hear him +speak.</p> + +<p>"Yes Mam, indeed I had rather be free. Oh! religion is glorious. If God +has set you free from the bonds and penalties of sin, I think you ought +to live up to your Lord's commands. I dearly love to go to church and +hear the preacher tell of God. It gives me strength to live until He is +ready for me to go.</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss, I hope I have told you what you wanted to know, but I must +admit the things that took place way back there are rather vague in my +mind. I'm an old woman and my mind is not as clear as it once was. Next +week, if I am strong enough to make the trip, I am going to spend the +day with Mary Colbert, and go over the old times you and I have +discussed. She remembers them better than I do, because she is older."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DavisMose"></a> +<h3>Whitley<br> +[HW: Unedited<br> +Atlanta]<br> +E. Driskell<br> +<br> +EX-SLAVE MOSE DAVIS<br> +[APR 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>In one of Atlanta's many alleys lives Mose Davis, an ex-slave who was +born on a very large plantation 12 miles from Perry, Georgia. His master +was Colonel Davis, a very rich old man, who owned a large number of +slaves in addition to his vast property holdings. Mose Davis says that +all the buildings on this plantation were whitewashed, the lime having +been secured from a corner of the plantation known as "the lime sink". +Colonel Davis had a large family and so he had to have a large house to +accommodate these members. The mansion, as it was called, was a great +big three-storied affair surrounded by a thick growth of cedar trees.</p> + +<p>Mose's parents, Jennie and January Davis, had always been the property +of the Davis family, naturally he and his two brothers and two sisters +never knew any other master than "The Old Colonel".</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis says that the first thing he remembers of his parents is being +whipped by his mother who had tied him to the bed to prevent his running +away. His first recollection of his father is seeing him take a drink of +whiskey from a five gallon jug. When asked if this was'nt against the +plantation rules "Uncle Mose" replied: "The Colonel was one of the +biggest devils you ever seen—he's the one that started my daddy to +drinking. Sometimes he used to come to our house to git a drink +hisself".</p> + +<p>Mose's Father was the family coachman. "All that he had to do was to +drive the master and his family and to take care of the two big grey +horses that he drove. Compared to my mother and the other slaves he had +an easy time," said Uncle Mose, shaking his head and smiling: "My daddy +was so crazy about the white folks and the horses he drove until I +believe he thought more of them than he did of me. One day while I was +in the stable with him one of the horses tried to kick me and when I +started to hit him Daddy cussed me and threatned to beat me."</p> + +<p>His mother, brothers, and sisters, were all field hands, but there was +never any work required of Mose, who was play-mate and companion to +Manning, the youngest of Colonel Davis' five sons. These two spent most +of the time fishing and hunting. Manning had a pony and buggy and +whenever he went to town he always took Mose along.</p> + +<p>Field hands were roused, every morning by the overseer who rang the +large bell near the slave quarters. Women [TR: and] young children were +permitted to remain at home until 9 o'clock to prepare breakfast. At 9 +o'clock these women had to start to the fields where they worked along +with the others until sundown. The one break in the day's work was the +noon dinner hour. Field hands planted and tended cotton, corn, and the +other produce grown on the plantation until harvest time when everybody +picked cotton. Slaves usually worked harder during the picking season +than at any other time. After harvest, the only remaining work was +cleaning out fence corners, splitting rails building fences and numerous +other minor tasks. In hot weather, the only work was shelling corn. +There was no Sunday work other than caring for the stock.</p> + +<p>On this plantation there were quite a few skilled slaves mostly +blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, plasterers, and a cobbler. One of +Mose's brothers was a carpenter.</p> + +<p>All slaves too old for field work remained at home where some took care +of the young children, while others worked in the loom houses helping +make the cloth and the clothing used on the plantation. Since no work +was required at night, this time was utilized by doing personal work +such as the washing and the repairing of clothing, etc.</p> + +<p>On the Fourth of July or at Christmas Colonel Davis always had a +festival for all his slaves. Barbecue was served and there was much +singing and dancing. These frolics were made merrier by the presence of +guests from other plantations. Music was furnished by some of the slaves +who also furnished music at the mansion whenever the Col. or some of the +members of his family had a party. There was also a celebration after +the crops had been gathered.</p> + +<p>Although there was only one distribution of clothing per year nobody +suffered from the lack of clothes because this one lot had enough to +last a year if properly cared for. The children wore one piece garments, +a cross between a dress and a slightly lengthened shirt, made of +homespun or crocus material [TR note: "crocus" is a coarse, loosely +woven material like burlap]. No shoes were given them until winter and +then they got the cast-offs of the grown ups. The men all wore pants +made of material known as "ausenberg". The shirts and under wear were +made of another cotton material. Dresses for the women were of striped +homespun. All shoes were made on the premises of the heaviest leather, +clumsely fashioned and Uncle Mose says that slaves like his father who +worked in the mansion, were given much better clothing. His father +received of "The Colonel" and his grown sons many discarded clothes. One +of the greatest thrills of Mose's boyhood was receiving first pair of +"ausenberg" pants. As his mother had already taught him to knit (by +using four needles at one time) all that he had to do was to go to his +hiding place and get the socks that he had made.</p> + +<p>None of the clothing worn by the slaves on this particular plantation +was bought. Everything was made by the slaves, even to the dye that was +used.</p> + +<p>Asked if there was sufficient food for all slaves, Uncle Mose said "I +never heard any complaints." At the end of each week every family was +given some fat meat, black molasses, meal and flour in quantity varying +with the size of the family. At certain intervals during the week, they +were given vegetables. Here too, as in everything else, Mose's father +was more fortunate than the others, since he took all his meals at the +mansion where he ate the same food served to the master and his family. +The only difference between Week-day and Sunday diet was that biscuits +were served on Sundays. The children were given only one biscuit each. +In addition to the other bread was considered a delicacy. All food stuff +was grown on the plantation.</p> + +<p>The slave quarters were located a short distance below the mansion. The +cabins one-roomed weatherboard structures were arranged so as to form a +semi-circle. There was a wide tree-lined road leading from the master's +home to these cabins.</p> + +<p>Furnishings of each cabin consisted of one or two benches, a bed, and a +few cooking utensils. These were very crude, especially the beds. Some +of them had four posts while the ends of others were nailed to the +walls. All lumber used in their construction was very heavy and rough. +Bed springs were unheard of—wooden slats being used for this purpose. +The mattresses were large ausenberg bags stuffed to capacity with hay, +straw, or leaves. Uncle Mose told about one of the slaves, named Ike, +whose entire family slept on bare pine straw. His children were among +the fattest on the plantation and when Colonel Davis tried to make him +put this straw in a bag he refused claiming that the pine needles kept +his children healthy.</p> + +<p>The floors and chimneys on the Davis Plantation were made of wood and +brick instead of dirt and mud as was the case on many of the other +surrounding plantations. One window (with shutters instead of window +panes) served the purpose of ventilation and light. At night pine knots +or candles gave light. The little cooking that the slaves did at home +was all done at the open fireplace.</p> + +<p>Near the living quarters was a house known as the "chillun house." All +children too young for field work stayed at this house in the care of +the older slave women. There was no hospital building on the premises. +The sick had to remain in their individual cabins where they too were +cared for by slaves too old for field work.</p> + +<p>Only one family lived in a cabin. Mose's mother and father each had a +separate cabin. He did not explain the reason for this but said that he +was made to live in his father's cabin. Whenever he could, (usually when +his father was away with the Colonel for a day or two) he stayed in his +mothers cabin. "The only difference between the houses we lived in +during slavery and those that some of us live in now who said is that we +had more room there than we have now." He says that even the community +cook house was larger than some of the living quarters of today. All +cabins were white washed the same as the other buildings on the +plantation, and the occupants were required to keep the interiors and +the surrounding clean at all times. The overseer's cabin was located a +short distance away from the slave cabins, so that it would be easier +for him to keep check on his charges.</p> + +<p>There was little if any sickness but Colonel Davis employed a doctor who +visited the plantation each week. On other occasions the overseer +administered such remedies as castor oil, turpentine, etc., and the +slaves had remedies of their own. For stomach ache they used a tea made +of Jimson weeds. Another medicine was heart leaf tea. Manual and +religious training were the only types allowed on the plantation. Trades +like carpentry, blacksmithing, etc. were learned from the white +mechanics sometimes employed by Colonel Davis. All slaves were required +to attend church and a special building was known as "Davis' Chapel." A +Negro preacher officiated and no white people were present. Uncle Mose +doesn't know what was preached as he and Manning always slipped into +town on Sundays to see the girls. Uncle Mose says he and Manning were +together so much that occasionally they even slept in the same +bed,—sometimes in Manning's house and sometimes at his own house.</p> + +<p>A pool for baptism was filled with well water. The colored pastor +performed all baptisms and marriages.</p> + +<p>Book learning was prohibited in any form. Sometimes Mose tried to +persuade Manning to teach him to read and write but Manning always +refused. Mose's cousin who was taught to read and write forged Colonel +Davis' name to a check and drew the money from the bank before the hand +writing was discovered. For this act he was given a sound whipping and +assigned to hard labor by the master, "And", said Uncle Mose, "he didn't +even have the pleasure of spending one penny". When asked if his cousin +was arrested and placed in jail he replied that the jails were not for +the slaves, as their punishment was usually left to their individual +masters. When his cousin was whipped this was an exception to "The +Colonel's rule"; he was entirely against any form of whipping. His usual +method of punishment was to cut off individual privileges for a limited +amount of time (in proportion to the nature of the offense), along with +an assignment of extra heavy work.</p> + +<p>The fame of the "Paddle-Rollers" was widespread among the slaves, but +none of Colonel Davis' servants attempted to run away or leave the +plantation often without the required pass (if they did they were never +caught).</p> + +<p>There was very little talk on the plantation about the actual beginning +of the Civil War. Slaves was very guarded in their talk as they feared +the master's wrath. Uncle Mose thought little or nothing about the War +and had even less to say.</p> + +<p>When the Yankee soldiers came to the plantation they drove wagons to the +smoke house and took all the meat away. "The funny part about it was +that "The Colonel" had taken shelter in this particular house when he +saw the Yankees coming," said Uncle Mose. "He didn't have time to hide +any of his other belongings." When the soldiers had left, The Colonel +looked around and said to Manning and Mose: "Just like I get that, I +guess I can get some more."</p> + +<p>Uncle Mose says that when freedom was declared, his father came rushing +to their cabin waving his arms like a windmill, shouting: "Boy we is +free—you can go and git yourself a job 'cause I ain't goin' to hitch up +no more horses". Some of the slaves remained on the plantation where +they worked for wages until their deaths. His father was one of them and +after his death, his mother moved to another plantation to live with +another son. Meanwhile Mose started traveling from place to place as +soon as he was told that he was free to go as he pleased. He paid one +visit to the plantation where he learned of his father's death. He then +asked Manning, who was operating the plantation, for the ox that had +belonged to his father and when Manning refused to part with this +animal, he made a secret visit back, that night, and took the animal +away. He has not been back since.</p> + +<p>At this time Mr. Davis stretched himself, saying: "Well, I guess that's +about as straight as I can get it—Wish that I could tell you some more +but I can't." Smiling broadly, he bade the interviewer a pleasant +good-bye.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DerricoteIke"></a> +<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +IKE DERRICOTTE, Age 78<br> +554 Hancock Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Miss Grace McCune<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +<br> +August 19, 1938</h3> + +<p>[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.]</p> +<br> + +<p>Ike Derricotte's brown-painted, frame bungalow, well back from the +street, faces a wide grassy yard where tall pecan trees provide summer +shade and winter nuts.</p> + +<p>A mulatto woman answered the knock at the front door. Her long, +straight, white hair was neatly arranged in a low-pinned coil at the +back of her head. Her print frock and white shoes were immaculate. "Yes +Mam, Ike is at home," was the answer to the inquiry for her husband. +"Jus' have a seat on de porch here 'cause it's so much cooler dan inside +de house, and I'll call Ike. He's jus' piddlin' 'round de back yard dis +mornin'."</p> + +<p>Almost at once a tall, well-built man of gingercake color appeared. He +wore an old black cap, blue work shirt, blue wool trousers, and black +shoes. "Howdy-do, Miss! Did you want to see me?" was his greeting. His +eyes sparkled when he learned that we wished to record the story of his +life. "Yes Mam, I'll be glad to tell you what I kin," he promised, "and +Miss, I'll jus' bet I kin tell you somepin dat very few folks kin say +'bout dem old days. I was born right here on dis same street, and I'm +still livin' on it, but dis house and lot ain't my birthplace. When I +was born, dis section was mostly in woods. Jus' look at it now; houses +has been built up and down both sides of what was den jus' de big road. +Times has changed in lots of ways since dem days.</p> + +<p>"My mother's name was Myra, and she was a laundry 'oman owned by Mr. +Stevens Thomas. Mr. Thomas was one of de biggest merchants in Athens dem +days. He owned de square between Thomas Street and Wall Street, and it +s'tended back to Clayton Street.</p> + +<p>"William Derricotte was my father, and he belonged to Col. Robert +Thomas. My father spent most of his time beautifyin' de yards 'round de +big house, and in dese days and times he would be called a landscape +gardener. Dey jus' called 'em yard boys den. Atter Pa and Ma was +married, Marster Stevens sold Ma to Marster Robert, so dat dey could be +together. Mr. Robert Thomas' place was right up dis same old street, +whar de Y.W.C.A. is now, and right dar is whar I was born. Dat was in +1860, a long time ago; and lots of things has happened since den. Lots +of people has moved away and lots more has died out, 'til dere ain't +many of de folks left here dat lived in Athens den. De Thomases, +Dorseys, and Phinizys was some of de oldest families here.</p> + +<p>"I was too little to know much about de war but, little as I was, dere's +one thing dat's still as fresh in my memory now as den, and dat's how +people watched and waited to hear dat old Georgia train come in. Not +many folks was able to take de papers den, and de news in 'em was from +one to two weeks old when dey got here. All de men dat was able to fight +was off at de front and de folks at home was anxious for news. De way +dat old train brought 'em de news was lak dis: if de southern troops was +in de front, den dat old whistle jus' blowed continuously, but if it was +bad news, den it was jus' one short, sharp blast. In dat way, from de +time it got in hearin', evvybody could tell by de whistle if de news was +good or bad and, believe me, evvybody sho' did listen to dat train.</p> + +<p>"Times was hard durin' de war but from what I've heared de folks dat was +old folks den say, dey warn't near as bad here as in lots of other +places. Yes Mam! Sho' I kin 'member dem Yankees comin' here, but dat was +atter de war was done over. Dey camped right here on Hancock Avenue. +Whar dey camped was mostly woods den, and deir camp reached nearly all +de way to whar Milledge Avenue is now. Us chillun was scared to death of +dem soldiers and stayed out of deir way all us could. My Marster, Mr. +Stevens Thomas, hid all of his family's silver and other valuables dat +could be put out of sight, for dem Yankees jus' went 'round takin' +whatever dey wanted. Dey stole all kinds of food out of de homes, went +into de smokehouses and got hams, and cotched up de chickens. Dey jus' +reached out and tuk what dey wanted and laughed about it lak dey hadn't +been stealin'.</p> + +<p>"Dem Yankees brought de smallpox here wid 'em and give it to all de +Athens folks, and dat was somepin awful. Folks jus' died out wid it so +bad. Dey built a hospital what dey called de 'pest house' out whar de +stockade is now. It was rough and small but I reckon it helped some. It +warn't near large enough for all de folks dat was sick wid smallpox at +one time, and so dey finally got to whar dey used it jus' for de colored +folks, 'cause it seemed dat smallpox went harder wid dem dan wid de +white folks.</p> + +<p>"When de war ended us didn't leave Mr. Stevens Thomas. Ma kept on +cookin' and wukin' 'round de house, and Pa wuked lots for other folks, +larned to do brick-work, build walls, and things lak dat. Atter he got +to be a brickmason he allus had plenty to do.</p> + +<p>"Marbles was de favorite game of de chillun dem days but us never got to +play much lak chillun does dese days, 'cause times was so hard right +atter de war dat as soon as chillun got big enough dey had to go to wuk. +Some of our very best times was at de old swimmin' hole. Us dammed up +dat little crick right back of whar de Seaboard Depot is now and it made +a fine pool to swim in. It was cool for it was shady off down dar in de +woods, and us spent many a hour dar on days as hot as dis one is. When +dey missed us at home, dat was de fust place dey thought of when dey +come to hunt us. I had some mighty good times in dat crick and I +couldn't begin to count de duckin's I got dar and de whuppin's my Ma and +Pa give me for stayin' so long.</p> + +<p>"De biggest time in all de year was de Commencement Day; evvybody got +busy and fixed up for dat. My Marster allus had lots of company at +commencement times, and us had de most good things to eat. Out in town +dey was 'pared for it too. Tables was all along de sidewalks whar you +could buy any kind of 'freshments you wanted. Course dere warn't as many +kinds of 'freshments den as dey has now, but dere was allus plenty of de +strong sort. One time durin' commencement week, Ma give me a whole +quarter to spend. I was de happiest and de richest boy in dis town; jus' +had more money to spend dan anybody, and I walked de streets from one +table to another tryin' to see whar I was gwine to spend all dat money." +Here, Ike laughed heartily. "Miss," he said, "you jus' never could guess +what I spent all dat money for. I bought a whole quarter's worth of +ginger-cakes and lit out for de swimmin' hole. Us chillun had a fine +time down at de swimmin' hole dat day. De Cobbs and Lumpkins owned all +dat land in dar 'round our swimmin' hole den. Dey owned from de Catholic +Church straight through to College Avenue.</p> + +<p>"I mighty well 'member de fust wuk I ever done. I was still jus' a +little fellow when Miss Belle Brumby told Ma she wanted me for a butler +boy and dat she would pay me $2.50 a month. I jus' jumped up and down +and begged her to let me wuk for Miss Belle. Why, I jus' knowed I would +git rich right away, 'cause $2.50 was a mighty lot of money." Ike +laughed as he said: "How many boys would wuk for dat pay for a week now, +let alone a whole month? Ma did let me wuk for Miss Belle and I was +happy, but I know my Mist'ess had a time wid me 'cause, when I got on +dat white coat dey let me wear to wait on de table, I knowed more dan +evvybody else put together and dere couldn't nobody tell me how to keep +de flies off de table. Miss Belle is one fine 'oman, dey jua' don't come +no finer and no better.</p> + +<p>"When I was fourteen my Pa hired me out to be a shoemaker. De shop whar +I was 'prenticed was down on Broad Street, jus' about whar de Bernstein +Furniture Store is now. Dat old buildin' was tore down long years ago +and evvything 'long dar is changed now. De Athens Hardware Store is de +only Broad Street business of dem days dat has stood in de same place +and endured through all dese years.</p> + +<p>"When I went to wuk for Mr. Joe Barry in his shoe shop on Jackson +Street, right in back of whar Mr. Lee Morris' store is now, I felt lak I +had got to be a real sho' 'nough important shoemaker. I wuked for him +'bout 12 or 14 years. He was a good man to wuk for and he was de only +shoemaker I ever knowed to git rich at his trade; he really did make +money in dat shop. I've been a shoemaker ever since 1874, but I never +have been able to git far ahead. In spite of all our trouble for 85 +years atter de war, it seems to me dat times was much better den dan dey +is now. Course, folks didn't make as much den as dey does now. +Carpenters, bricklayers, shoemakers, in fact 'most any kind of laborers +who got from $1.00 to $1.50 a day thought dey had fine wages den. Boys +was paid from $2.50 to $5.00 a month. Cooks got $5.00 to $6.00 a month, +and of course, dey got deir meals whar dey wuked. Sometimes odds and +ends of old clothes was give to 'em, and dey got along very well, even +if most of 'em did have families and big families at dat. Folks could +live on less den 'cause things was cheaper. You could git meal for 50¢ a +bushel; side meat was 5¢ to 6¢ a pound; and you could git a 25-pound +sack of flour for 50¢. Wood was 50¢ a load. House rent was so cheap dat +you didn't have to pay over $3.00 a month for a 2 or 3 room house, and +lots of times you got it cheaper. Most evvybody wore clothes made out +of homespun cloth and jeans, and dey didn't know nothin' 'bout +ready-made, store-bought clothes. Dem clothes what dey made at home +didn't cost very much. Livin' was cheap, but folks lived mighty well in +dem days.</p> + +<p>"Us has been married more dan 50 years and dey has all been happy years. +Us has had our troubles and hard luck, but dey come to evvybody. De Lord +has been mighty good to us, 'specially in lettin' us be together so +long. It was what you might call a case of love at fust sight wid us. I +was visitin' down at Camak, Georgia at Christmastime. She lived at +Sparta, and was spendin' Christmas at Camak too, but I didn't see her +'til I was 'bout to leave for Athens. I jus' thought I never could go +'way atter I fust seed her, but I did, and I didn't git to see her again +for 12 long months. Us writ to one another all dat year and got married +at Christmastime, one year from de time us fust met.</p> + +<p>"Us has still got dat old pen I used when I writ and axed her to marry +me; I'd lak to show it to you. 'Scuse me please whilst I goes in de +house to git it." Soon Ike returned. "Ain't it a sight?" he proudly +exclaimed as he displayed the relic. "I made it up myself in December +1886 and it got her consent to marry me, so I'se kept it ever since. My +wife and me wouldn't part wid it for nothin'." The wooden pen staff is +very smooth as though from long usage except at the tip end, where it +appears to have been gnawed. It looks very much as though Ike may have +chewed on it as he wrote that all important letter. The iron pen point, +much too large to fit the standard grooves of the ordinary pen staff, +was placed on the staff and tightly wrapped. After 52 years of service +the pen point and its staff are still in good condition. Ike has the +Prince Albert coat that he wore on his wedding day and he insists that +it looks and fits as well now as it did on the occasion of his marriage. +"I'm keepin' de coat and pen for our chillun," he declared.</p> + +<p>Before resuming the conversation, Ike went back in the house to put the +treasured pen away. In a few moments he returned. "God has been good to +us," he said, "for He let us have all nine of our chillun 'til dey was +grown up. Us wuked mighty hard to raise 'em and give all of 'em a good +education. Dat was somepin us couldn't have when us was growin' up and +I'm thankful to be able to say dat us was able to send 'em all to +college. Four of our chillun has gone on ahead to de next world, and de +five dat's left is scattered from place to place; none of 'em is wid us +now, but dey don't forgit us. Dey writes to us and visits us often and +us goes to see dem. One son is goin' mighty well as a lawyer in +Washin'ton, D.C., and our baby lives in New York City. It's been 'bout 3 +years now since my daughter Juliette died atter a automobile wreck near +Dalton, Georgia. Did you know 'bout Juliette? She give her life to wuk +for de Y.W.C.A., and she went all over de world tryin' to make things +better for de young women of our race. Somebody writ a memorial book +'bout her. I wish dere was a copy of dat book here for you to see, but +it was borrowed from us and it ain't been returned.</p> + +<p>"Did you know I had jus' come back from Washin'ton, whar I visited dat +lawyer son of mine? He sends for me nearly evvy summer and I enjoy +visitin' dar, but I wouldn't lak to live up dar 'cause dem folks ain't +lak our own southern people. I must say dey is mighty nice and good to +me when I goes dar though. Once when I was dar somebody told me dat if I +wanted to have a good time I mustn't let nobody know I was a Georgian +'cause dey said dat de northerners don't lak our State. De rest of de +time I was dar on dat visit I tuk partic'lar pleasure in tellin' +evvybody how proud I was of my State and my home.</p> + +<p>"Dat reminds me of Miss Sally Hodgson. She was in de North, and one +evenin' she was tryin' to tell de folks up dar dat de southern people +warn't as bad as some of de Yankees had said dey was, and dat de white +folks down South didn't mistreat de colored folks. Miss Sally said dat +de very next mornin' de papers up dar was full of news 'bout de lynchin' +of 8 Negroes in one night at Watkinsville. If you had knowed Miss Sally, +you would know how funny dat was," Ike laughed. "She said atter dat dere +warn't no way she could convince dem folks up dar dat Georgia was a good +place to live in.</p> + +<p>"Us had some good friends in de North and sometimes dey comes down here +to see us. One of my wife's friends, a 'oman wid a lot of education has +jus' gone back to Philadelphia atter a visit here in our home. Us +travels a good deal and us has found dat de world ain't so large but dat +us is allus runnin' up against somebody dat us knows wherever us goes.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes when you is in a strange place it's mighty handy to find +somebody you have knowed a long time ago. I 'member one time when I was +visitin' in Washin'ton and wanted to git a glimpse of de President. I +didn't say nothin' to nobody 'bout what was on my mind, but atter my son +went to his wuk in de mornin' I slipped off to de capitol widout tellin' +nobody whar I was gwine. I found a waitin' room outside de President's +office and I made up my mind I would set dar 'til de President had to go +out for dinner or to go home for supper. I never thought about he might +have a side door he could come and go from widout usin' de door to de +waitin' room. Atter I had set dar in dat waitin' room de best part of +two days watchin' for de President, somebody said: 'Howdy, Uncle Ike! +What is you doin' here in de President's waitin' room?' I looked up and +dar stood Albon Holsey. He had growed up in Athens. He was de boy dey +'signed to wait on President Taft when he was at Miss Maggie Welch's +home for a day and night in January 'fore he was inaugurated. I bet +Albon is still got dat $5.00 Mr. Taft give him de mornin' he left +Athens, but he don't need to spend it now 'cause folks say he got rich +off of his chain of stores for colored folks, and anyhow he's got a fine +job dese days. Well, I s'plained to Albon dat I was jus' waitin' to git +a peep at de President whenever he happened to pass through dat room. +Albon he smiled sort of wise-like. He tuk out one of his cyards and +writ sompin on it, and axed a lady to take it right in to de President. +She warn't gone 2 minutes 'fore she come back and said: 'De President +will see Mr. Holsey and his friend now.' I was wuss skeered dan I has +ever been at any other time in my life. Us walked in and I was 'fraid de +President could hear my knees knockin' together, and my heart was +beatin' so fast and loud it seemed to me lak it was 'bout to bust. De +President spoke to us and when he found out dat I was from Athens, he +axed me lots of questions. He said dat he was interested in Athens. Soon +Albon said us must be goin' and when us got out of dar I was right weak, +but I was might proud and happy to think de President had tuk time to +talk pleasant lak wid a pore old Negro shoemaker.</p> + +<p>"Another time in Washin'ton a friend of my son's tuk me to a club one +night whar some of de richest of our race is members. Dat night I met a +man who had went to school wid de Mr. Teddy Roosevelt dat was President +atter Mr. McKinley; den I met another Negro dat had been a classmate of +President Hoover and one dat went to school wid President Franklin D. +Roosevelt. It's right strange how dey all heads for Washin'ton, D.C. to +stay.</p> + +<p>"Athens has allus been a real quiet town, and dere never was no real +serious trouble here 'tween de races, not even when Matt Davis and Pink +Morton was Postmasters here. People was allus predictin' trouble 'bout +dat, but de folks here was too level-headed for dat. Dey knowed dey +could straighten out deir own troubles widout havin' to fly off de +handle in a race riot, and so dey 'tended to deir own business' and de +races got along all right through it all.</p> + +<p>"Atter all, Athens is a good place to live in. Here us has de best +neighbors in de world; dey's allus ready to look atter one another in +times of sickness and trouble. Wid de kind of good, Christian folks dat +lives here, Athens is bound to go ahead."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="DillardBenny"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +BENNY DILLARD, Age 80<br> +Cor. Broad and Derby Streets<br> +Athens, Ga.<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Grace McCune [HW: (white)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by: Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +Augusta, Ga.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Benny's rocky little yard is gay with flowers and a flourishing rose +vine shades the small porch at the front of his ramshackle two-room +cabin. The old Negro was busily engaged at washing his clothes. He is of +medium size, darker than gingerbread in color, and his clothing on this +day consisted of a faded blue shirt, pants adorned with many patches, +and brogans. A frayed sun hat covered the gray hair that is "gittin' +mighty thin on de top of my haid."</p> + +<p>Benny was singing as he worked and his quavering old voice kept tune and +rhythm to a remarkable degree as he carefully and distinctly pronounced:</p> + +<pre> +"Jesus will fix it for you, + Just let Him have His way + He knows just how to do, + Jesus will fix it for you." +</pre> + +<p>Almost in the same breath he began another song:</p> + +<pre> +"All my sisters gone, + Mammy and Daddy too + Whar would I be if it warn't + For my Lord and Marster." +</pre> + +<p>About this time he looked up and saw his visitor. Off came the old sun +hat as he said: "'Scuse me, Missy, I didn't know nobody was listenin' to +dem old songs. I loves to sing 'em when I gits lonesome and blue. But +won't you come up on my porch and have a cheer in de shade? Dere's a +good breeze on dat little porch." Having placed a chair for the visitor +and made himself comfortable on a crude bench, Benny began his story:</p> + +<p>"Missy, de good Lord gives and he takes away, and us old darkies is +a-passin' out of dis world. Dat was why I was a-singin'. One of my +bestest friends done passed on to Glory dis very mornin'. I knows I'se +goin' to miss old Randal Clayton 'cause both of us warn't no good but +for to set and talk 'bout old times." Tears rolled down his face as he +told of his friend, and the visitor, fearful that he was too much +overcome by grief to be able to give a good story, suggested that +another engagement be made to record his reminiscences, but he objected. +"Lawsy, Missy!" he protested. "Please don't go now, for dem old times is +on my mind today and I would so love to talk 'bout 'em now, if you don't +mind. If I talks too much, jus' tell me, 'cause I'se mighty apt to do +dat when onct I gits started.</p> + +<p>"My Mammy and Daddy, dey warn't from dis part of de country. My Mammy +said dat not long atter she got to America from a trip on de water dat +took nigh 6 months to make, dey brung her from Virginny and sold her +down here in Georgy when she was jus' 'bout 16 years old. De onliest +name she had when she got to Georgy was Nancy. I don't know whar my +Daddy come from. Him and Mammy was both sold to Marse Isaac Dillard and +he tuk 'em to live on his place in Elbert County, close to de place dey +calls Goose Pond. Dey lived at home on dat big old plantation. By dat, I +means dat Marse Isaac growed evvything needed to feed and clothe his +folks 'cept de little sugar, coffee, and salt dey used. I don't 'member +so much 'bout times 'fore de big war 'cause I warn't but 6 years old +when us was made free. Tellin' de slaves dey was free didn't make much +diff'unce on our place, for most of 'em stayed right on dar and wukked +wid Old Marster jus' lak dey allus done. Dat plantation was jus' lak a +little town, it was so big and it had evvything us wanted and needed.</p> + +<p>"Slaves lived in log cabins what had red mud daubed in de cracks 'twixt +de logs. De roofs was made out of boards what had so many cracks 'twixt +'em, atter a few rains made 'em swink (shrink), dat us could lay in bed +and see de stars through dem big holes. Even if us did have leaky +houses, folkses didn't git sick half as much as dey does now. Our +homemade beds was made out of rough planks nailed to high poles; +leastways de poles was high for de headpieces, and a little lower for de +footpieces. For most of dem beds, planks was nailed to de wall for one +long side and dere was two laigs to make it stand straight on de other +long side. Dey never seed no metal springs dem days but jus' wove cords +back and forth, up and down and across, to lay de mattress on. I never +seed no sto'-bought bed 'til atter I was married. Bedticks was made out +of homespun cloth stuffed wid wheatstraw, and sometimes dey slept on rye +or oatstraw. Pillows was stuffed wid hay what had a little cotton mixed +in it sometimes. Atter a long day of wuk in de fields, nobody bothered +'bout what was inside dem pillows. Dey slept mighty good lak dey was. +Dey fixed planks to slide across de inside of de holes dey cut out for +windows. De doors swung on pegs what tuk de place of de iron hinges dey +uses dese days. Dem old stack chimblies was made out of sticks and red +mud.</p> + +<p>"De fireplaces was a heap bigger dan dey has now, for all de cookin' was +done in open fireplaces den. 'Taters and cornpone was roasted in de +ashes and most of de other victuals was biled in de big old pots what +swung on cranes over de coals. Dey had long-handled fryin' pans and +heavy iron skillets wid big, thick, tight-fittin' lids, and ovens of all +sizes to bake in. All of dem things was used right dar in de fireplace. +Dere never was no better tastin' somepin t'eat dan dat cooked in dem old +cook-things in open fireplaces.</p> + +<p>"Chillun never had no wuk to do. Dey jus' et and frolicked around +gittin' into evvything dey could find. Dey never got no lickin's 'less +dey was mighty bad, 'cause our Marster said he warn't gwine to 'low no +beatin' on his Niggers 'cept what he done his own self, and dat was +pow'ful little. In hot weather chillun played on de crick and de best +game of all was to play lak it was big meetin' time. White chillun loved +to play dar too wid de little slave chillun. Us would have make-believe +preachin' and baptizin' and de way us would sing was a sight. One of dem +songs us chillun loved de best went lak dis:</p> + +<pre> +'Why does you thirst + By de livin' stream? + And den pine away + And den go to die. + +'Why does you search + For all dese earthly things? + When you all can + Drink at de livin' spring, + And den can live.' +</pre> + +<p>"When us started playin' lak us was baptizin' 'em, us th'owed all us +could ketch right in de crick, clothes and all, and ducked 'em. Whilst +us was doin' dat, us was singin':</p> + +<pre> +'Git on board, git on board + For de land of many mansions, + Same old train dat carried + My Mammy to de Promised Land.' +</pre> + +<p>"One day our Marster hid in de trees and watched us 'cause Mist'ess had +done been fussin' down 'bout chillun all comin' in soaked to de hide. He +waited 'til he seed all de preachin' and baptizin', den he hollered for +us to stop and he tuk de ones what was doin' all de baptizin' and made +'em pray and sing, den he ducked 'em good in de water and made us all go +up to de house to show Mist'ess how come so many of dem pore chillun had +done been gittin' wet so much. Us got a tannin' den dat Marster 'lowed +would help us to git sho' 'nough 'ligion.</p> + +<p>"De wooden bowls what slave chillun et out of was made out of sweetgum +trees. Us et wid mussel shells 'stid of spoons. Dem mussel shells was +all right. Us could use 'em to git up plenty of bread and milk, or +cornpone soaked wid peas and pot likker. Dey never let chillun have no +meat 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Us had biscuit once a +week, dat was Sunday breakfast, and dem biscuits was cakebread to us. De +fust bought meat us chillun ever seed was a slab of side-meat Daddy got +from de sto' atter us had done left de plantation, and us was skeered to +eat it 'cause it warn't lak what us had been used to.</p> + +<p>"Chillun jus' wore one piece of clothes in summertime and dey all went +bar'foots. De gals' summer gyarment was a plain, sleeveless apron dress, +and de boys wore skimpy little shirts and nothin' else. Dey mixed +cow-hair wid de cotton when dey wove de cloth to make our winter clothes +out of, and I'm a-tellin' you Missy, dat cow-hair cloth sho' could +scratch, but it was good and warm and Marster seed to it dat us had all +de clothes us needed. De 'omans made all de cloth used on de place; dey +cyarded, spun, and den wove it. Mammy was de weaver; dat was all she +done, jus' wove cloth. Dey dyed it wid red mud and ink balls, and sich +lak.</p> + +<p>"Marster never lakked to git up real early hisself in slavery time, so +he had one man what got de Niggers up out of bed so early dat dey had +done et breakfast and was in de field when daylight come. Atter de war +was over and evvybody was free, all de Niggers used to jus' piddle and +play 'round evvy mornin' whilst dey was waitin' for Marster to come. Dem +and de mules would be jus' a-standin' still and when de word was passed +dat Marster had done got up all of 'em would start off wid a rush, jus' +a-hollerin': 'Whoa, dar! Gee haw!' jus' lak dey had done been wukkin' +hard all mornin'. One day Marster cotch 'em at it, and he didn't say a +word 'til time come to pay off, and he tuk out for all de time dey had +lost.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes slaves run away and hid out in caves. Dey would pile up rocks +and sticks and pine limbs to hide de caves, and sometimes dey would stay +hid out for weeks, and de other Niggers would slip 'em somepin t'eat at +night. Dere warn't many what run off on our place, 'cause our Marster +was so good to all of 'em dat dere warn't nothin' to run from.</p> + +<p>"Marster made all his wuk tools at home. Plow-sheers was made out of +wood trimmed to de right shape and fastened to a iron point. When dey +was plowin' in de young cotton, dey nailed a board on one side of de +plow to rake de dirt back up 'round de cotton plants.</p> + +<p>"Marster's gin was turned by a mule. Dat big old gin wheel had wooden +cogs what made de gin wuk when de old mule went 'round and 'round +hitched to dat wheel. Dat old cotton press was a sight. Fust dey cut +down a big old tree and trimmed off de limbs and made grooves in it for +planks to fit in. It was stood up wid a big weight on top of it, over de +cotton what was to be pressed. It was wukked by a wheel what was turned +by a mule, jus' lak de one what turned de gin. A old mule pulled de pole +what turned de syrup mill too. Missy, dem old mules done deir part 'long +side de Niggers dem days, and Marster seed dat his mules had good keer +too. When dem mules had done turned de mill 'til de juice was squez out +of de sugarcane stalks, dey strained dat juice and biled it down 'til it +was jus' de finest tastin' syrup you ever did see. Marster's mill whar +he ground his wheat and corn was down on de crick, so de water could +turn de big old wheel.</p> + +<p>"Dem old cornshuckin's was sho' 'nough big times, 'cause us raised so +much corn dat it tuk several days to shuck it all. Us had to have two +generals. Dey chose sides and den dey got up on top of de biggest piles +of corn and kept de slaves a-singin' fast so dey would wuk fast. De fust +crowd what finished got de prize. Dere ain't much I can 'member of words +to dem old cornshuckin' songs. One general would start off singin': +'Shuck up dis corn, shuck up dis corn, 'cause us is gwine home,' and de +other general would be a-shoutin': 'Make dem shucks fly, make dem +shucks fly, us is gwine to go home.' Over and over dey kept on singin' +dem lines. Come nighttime Marster would have big bonfires built up and +set out torches for 'em to see how to wuk, and evvy time he passed +'round dat jug of corn likker shucks would fly some faster. When all de +corn was done shucked and de big supper had been et, dere was wrastlin' +matches and dancin' and all sorts of frolickin'.</p> + +<p>"'Til dey could git a colored preacher, slaves had to go to church wid +deir white folks. Missy, I 'members yit, de fust preacher I ever heared. +He was a white man, Preacher Gibson dey called him, and his sermons made +you mind what you was 'bout 'cause he preached straight from de Bible. +Dat day when I fust heared him his text was: 'If you gits lost in sin, +den you is lost from God's word, and will have to be borned again.' +Dat's de trufe, Missy, it sho' is. Young folks dese days is headed plumb +straight for 'struction, 'cause dey won't listen to de Gospel. If dey +don't change from de way dey is goin' now de old debbil is gwine to +ketch 'em sho. All of us had better mind what us is 'bout, for 'ligion +most times now is by our own minds and thoughts, and somebody else is +apt to follow de 'ligion he sees in us. De Bible says to teach young +folks de way dey should go, and dey won't depart from deir raisin'. You +sho' can't raise 'em right by jus' teachin' 'em dese days; it evermore +do take plenty of layin' on of dat rod. I would jus' lak to see how dese +young folks would lak it if dey had to ride for miles and miles in a +oxcart, or else walk it, to git to 'tend church. Dere wouldn't be many +of de ones I knows 'round here would git dar. Us used to have four +steers hitched to our old cart, and it was slow-goin', but us got dar.</p> + +<p>"Atter us got our own churches us still had to have white preachers for +a long time and den us was 'lowed to have colored preachers. When +somebody wanted to jine our church us 'zamined 'em, and if us didn't +think dey was done ready to be tuk in de church, dey was told to wait +and pray 'til dey had done seed de light. Anybody can jine up wid de +church now, Missy, and it ain't right de way dey lets 'em come in widout +'zaminin' 'em. De good Lord sho' don't lak dat way of handlin' His +church business. One of dem cand-i-dates was a mean Nigger and our +preacher and deacons wouldn't let him in our church. Den he went over to +another church and told 'em dat he had talked wid de Lord 'bout how us +wouldn't let him jine up wid us, and he 'lowed dat de Lord said to him: +'Dat's all right. I done been tryin' to jine up in dat church for 15 +years myself, and can't git in, so you go on and jine another church.' +Dat other church let dat bad Nigger in and it warn't long 'fore dey had +to turn him out, 'cause he warn't fittin' to be in no church.</p> + +<p>"Our preacher used to give us parables. One of 'em was lak dis: 'I'se +seed good cotton growin' in de grass.' He 'splained it dat dere was some +good in de wust sinners. Another of his parables was: 'If you can't keep +up wid de man at de foot, how is you gwine to keep up wid de higher-up +folks?' Dat meant if you can't sarve God here below, how is you gwine to +git along wid him if you gits to Heben? Our preacher told us to sarve +both our marsters. De fust Marster was God, he said, and de other one +was our white marster.</p> + +<p>"I ain't never been inside no courtroom and don't never 'spect to be +dar, 'cause, missy, I don't mind nobody's business but my own, and dat's +all I can do.</p> + +<p>"No Mam, I don't never git much sick. I had a bad old haid cold last +winter, but I stopped dat wid coal oil and by breathin' in smoke from +scorched leather. Light'ood splinter tea is helpful when I has a chist +cold. Salts ain't de best thing for old folks to be doctored wid. I +takes common cookin' soda sweetened wid a little sugar. Dem is old-time +doses from way back in de old days, and I still use 'em all.</p> + +<p>"Durin' of de war time, soda and salt was both hard to git. Dey biled +down de dirt from under old smokehouses to git salt, and soda was made +out of burnt corncobs. You would be s'prised to see what good cookin' +could be done wid dat old corncob soda.</p> + +<p>"Us wukked for Mr. Green Hubbard de fust year us left de old plantation, +but he wouldn't pay us so us left him and rented some land to farm. Den +I went to wuk for Mr. Stephens and stayed wid him 25 years. He was one +of de owners of de Georgy Railroad and I used to drive for him when he +went to 'Gusty (Augusta) to dem board meetin's. He had one of dem +old-time gins what run by mule power, and us sho' did gin a heap of +cotton. Lots of times he had us to haul it all de way to 'Gusty on dem +wagons. Mr. Stephens' place was at Crawford, Georgy.</p> + +<p>"Me and my gal runned away to git married. If you please, Mam, come +inside and look at her pitcher. Ain't she a fine lookin' gal? Well, she +was jus' as good as she looks. I keeps her pitcher hangin' right over my +bed so as I can look at her all de time." The small room was tidy and +clean. In one corner a narrow, single bed, neatly made, stood beneath +the picture of Benny's wife, Mary. The picture showed a young woman +dressed in white in the style of the period when tight waists and +enormous puffed sleeves were in vogue. An old washstand supporting a +huge mirror, a small table, evidently used as a dining table, two +chairs, a small cupboard filled with dishes, and a small, wood-burning +stove completed the furnishings of the room. Back on the porch again, +Benny resumed the story of his marriage.</p> + +<p>"Her daddy wouldn't 'gree for us to git married 'cause he wanted her to +stay on and wuk for him. She warn't but seventeen. My boss-man let us +use his hoss and buggy and, Missy, dat fast hoss is what saved de day +for us. When I got to whar I was to meet her, I seed her runnin' down de +road wid her daddy atter her fast as he could go on foot. I snatched her +up in dat buggy and it seemed lak dat hoss knowed us was in a hurry +'cause he sho' did run. Squire Jimmie Green married us and when us got +back to my boss-man's house her daddy had done got dar and was a-raisin' +cane. Boss Stephens, he come out and told her daddy to git on 'way from +dar and let us 'lone, 'cause us was done married and dere warn't nothin' +could be done 'bout it. Us had a hard time gittin' started housekeepin', +'cause my daddy couldn't holp us none. Our bed was one of dem home-made +ones nailed to de side of de house. Us lived together 43 years 'fore de +Lord tuk her home to Heben 15 years ago. Dem 43 years was all of 'em +happy years. Since she's been gone I'se mighty lonesome, but it won't be +long now 'til I see her, for I'se ready to go whenever de Good Lord +calls me."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="EasonGeorge"></a> +<h3>[HW: Atlanta<br> +Dist. 5<br> +Driskell]<br> +<br> +THE EXPERIENCE OF GEORGE EASON IN SLAVERY TIME<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Mr. George Eason was born in Forsyth, Ga., on the plantation of Mr. Jack +Ormond. In addition to himself there were six other children, one of +whom was his twin brother. He and his brother were the oldest members of +this group of children. His mother, who was the master's cook, had +always belonged to the Ormond family while his father belonged to +another family, having been sold while he (George) was still a baby.</p> + +<p>It so happened that Mr. Ormond was a wealthy planter and in addition to +the plantation that he owned in the country, he also maintained a large +mansion in the town.</p> + +<p>The first few years of his life were spent in town where he helped his +mother in the kitchen by attending to the fire, getting water, etc. He +was also required to look after the master's horse. Unlike most other +slave owners who allowed their house servants to sleep in the mansion, +Mr. Ormond had several cabins built a short distance in the rear of his +house to accommodate those who were employed in the house. This house +group consisted of the cook, seamstress, maid, butler, and the wash +woman. Mr. Eason and those persons who held the above positions always +had good food because they got practically the same thing that was +served to the master and his family. They all had good clothing—the +women's dresses being made of calico, and the butler's suits of good +grade cloth, the particular kind of which Mr. Eason knows nothing about. +He himself wore a one-piece garment made of crocus.</p> + +<p>Mr. Eason was about 7 or 8 years of age when he was first sent to work +in the field. It was then that his troubles began. He says that he was +made to get up each morning at sun-up and that after going to the field +he had to toil there all day until the sun went down. He and his fellow +slaves had to work in all types of weather, good as well as bad. +Although the master or the overseer were not as cruel as some he had +heard of they tolerated no looseness of work and in case a person was +suspected of loafing the whip was applied freely. Although he was never +whipped, he has heard the whip being applied to his mother any number +of times. It hurt him, he says, because he had to stand back unable to +render any assistance whatever. (This happened before he was sent to the +plantation.) When his mother got these whippings she always ran off +afterwards and hid in the woods which were nearby. At night she would +slip to the cabin to get food and while there would caution him and the +other children not to tell the master that they had seen her. The +master's wife who was very mean was always the cause of her receiving +these lashings.</p> + +<p>Some nights after he and the other slaves had left the field they were +required to do extra work such as ginning cotton and shelling peas and +corn, etc. The young women were required to work that in some respects +was as hard as that the men did, while the older women usually did +lighter work. When the time came to pick the cotton all hands were +converted into pickers. Night was the only time that they had to do +their washing and to cultivate the small gardens they were allowed to +have.</p> + +<p>During the months when there was little field work to do they were kept +busy repairing fences, etc. on the farm. Every day was considered a +working day except Sunday, Thanksgiving and Christmas. They were not +allowed to celebrate on these days as were the slaves on other nearby +plantations.</p> + +<p>Clothing on the Ormond plantation was usually insufficient to satisfy +the needs of the slave. Each year one issue was given each slave. For +the men this issue consisted of 1 pair of brogan shoes, several homespun +shirts, a few pairs of knitted socks, and two or three pairs of pants. +The brogans were made of such hard leather until the wearers' feet were +usually blistered before the shoes were "broken in." The women, in +addition to a pair of shoes and some cotton stockings were given several +homespun dresses. On one occasion Mr. Eason says that he wore his shoes +out before time for an issue of clothing. It was so cold until the skin +on his feet cracked, causing the blood to flow. In spite of this his +master would give him no more shoes. All clothing was made on the +plantation except the shoes.</p> + +<p>Those women who were too old for field work did the sewing in addition +to other duties to be described later.</p> + +<p>Indigo was cultivated for dyeing purposes and in some instances a dye +was made by boiling walnut leaves and walnut hulls in water. In addition +to her duties as cook, Mr. Eason's mother had to also weave part of the +cloth. He told of how he had to sit up at night and help her and how she +would "crack" him on the head for being too slow at times.</p> + +<p>The amount of food given each slave was also inadequate as a general +rule. At the end of each week they all went to a certain spot on the +plantation where each was given 1 peck of meal, 1 gal. of syrup, and 3 +pounds of meat. They often suffered from that particular stomach ailment +commonly known as hunger. At such times raids were made on the +smokehouse. This was considered as stealing by the master and the +overseer but to them it was merely taking that which they had worked +for. At other times they increased their food by hunting and fishing. +Possums and coons were the usual game from such a hunting expedition. +All meals usually consisted of grits, bacon, syrup, corn bread and +vegetables. On Sundays and holidays the meals varied to the extent that +they were allowed to have biscuits which they called "cake bread." The +slaves made coffee by parching corn meal, okra seed or Irish potatoes. +When sufficiently parched any one of the above named would make a vile +type of coffee. Syrup was used for all sweetening purposes. The produce +from the gardens which the master allowed them could only be used for +home consumption and under no circumstances could any of it be sold.</p> + +<p>The cabins that the slaves occupied were located on one section of the +plantation known as the "quarters." These dwellings were crude +one-roomed structures usually made from logs. In order to keep the +weather out mud was used to close the openings between the logs. In most +instances the furnishing of a cabin was complete after a bed, a bench +(both of which were made by the slave) and a few cooking utensils had +been placed in it. As there were no stoves for slave use all cooking was +done at the fireplace, which, like the chimney, was made of mud and +stones. One or two openings served the purpose of windows, and shutters +were used instead of glass. The mattresses on which they slept were made +from hay, grass or straw. When a light was needed a tallow candle or a +pine knot was lighted.</p> + +<p>Absolute cleanliness was required at all times and the floors, if they +were made of wood, had to be swept and scrubbed often. In addition to +the private dwellings there was one large house where all children not +old enough to go to the field were kept. One or two of the older women +took charge of them, seeing that they had a sufficient amount of corn +bread, vegetables and milk each day. All were fed from a trough like +little pigs.</p> + +<p>These old women were also responsible for the care of the sick. When +asked if a doctor was employed, Mr. Eason replied that one had to be +mighty sick to have the services of a doctor. The usual treatment for +sick slaves was castor oil, which was given in large doses, salts and a +type of pill known as "hippocat." (ipecac)</p> + +<p>Although they were not permitted any formal type of learning religious +worship it was not denied them. Each Sunday Mr. Ormond required that all +his slaves attend church. All went to the white church where they sat in +back and listened to the sermon of a white preacher. Mr. Eason says that +the slaves believed in all kinds of and every conceivable type of signs. +Their superstitions usually had to do with methods of conjure.</p> + +<p>A preacher was never used to perform a wedding ceremony on the Ormond +plantation. After the man told the master about the woman of his choice +and she had been called and had agreed to the plan, all that was +necessary was for the couple to join hands and jump over a broom which +had been placed on the ground.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ormond permitted few if any celebrations or frolics to take place +on his farm. When he did grant this privilege his slaves were permitted +to invite their friends who of course had to get a "pass" from their +respective masters. They, too, were required to secure a pass from Mr. +Ormond if they wanted to visit off the premises. If caught by the +"Paddle Rollers" (Patrollers) without this pass they were soundly +whipped and then taken to their master.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the Civil War all the slaves talked among themselves +concerning the possible outcome of the war. However, they never let the +master or the overseer hear them because it meant a whipping.</p> + +<p>When Sherman and his army marched through they burned all the gin houses +on the Ormond plantation and took all the available live stock. Mr. +Ormond took a few prized possessions and a few slaves (one of whom was +Mr. Eason) and fled to Augusta, Ga.</p> + +<p>After freedom was declared he was still held in bondage and hired out by +the day. Once he ran away but was found and brought back. In 1867 the +remaining members of the Ormond family moved to Atlanta, bringing him +along with them. After most of them had died he was finally permitted to +go or stay as he pleased.</p> + +<p>Immediately after freedom had been declared he had the good fortune to +find his father. However, he never got a chance to spend any time with +him as the Ormonds refused to release him.</p> + +<p>Says Mr. Eason: "Slavery had a good point in that we slaves always felt +that somebody was going to take care of us." He says that he has heard +some wish for the good old days but as for himself he prefers things to +remain as they are at present.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="ElderCallie"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br> +<br> +CALLIE ELDER, Age 78<br> +640 W. Hancock Avenue<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7<br> +[JUN 6 1938]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Callie lives with her daughter, Cornelia, in a 6-room house near the +crest of a hill. Their abode is a short distance from the street and is +reached by steep stone steps. In response to the call for Callie, a tall +mulatto woman appeared. Her crudely fashioned blue dress was of a coarse +cotton fabric and her dingy head rag had long lost its original color. +Straight black hair, streaked with gray, and high cheek bones gave the +impression that in her ancestry of mixed races, Indian characteristics +predominate. Her constant use of snuff causes frequent expectoration and +her favorite pastime seems to be the endeavor to attain an incredible +degree of accuracy in landing each mouthful of the amber fluid at the +greatest possible distance. As she was about to begin conversation, a +little yellow boy about five years old ran into the room and Callie +said: "'Scuse me please, I can't talk 'til I gits my grandboy off so he +won't be late to school at Little Knox. Set down in dat dar cheer and +I'll be right back."</p> + +<p>Soon Callie returned and it was evident that her curiosity was aroused. +When the interviewer explained the purpose of the visit, she exclaimed: +"Lordy! Miss, what is de government gwine do next? For de God's truth, I +never knowed I would have to tell nobody what happened back in dem days, +so its jus' done slipped out of my mind.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, I warn't even born in Clarke County. I was born in Floyd +County, up nigh Rome, Georgia, on Marse Billy Neal's plantation. Ann +and Washin'ton Neal was my Mammy and Pappy. No Ma'am, no preacher never +married 'em. Marse Billy Neal, he owned bofe of 'em and atter my Pappy +axed him could he marry Mammy, Marse Billy made 'em go up to de hall of +de big house and jump backwards over a broom.</p> + +<p>"Dere was six of us chillun: me and Frances, Beulah, Thomas, Felix, and +Scott. Dere was mighty little wuk done by chillun in slav'ry days. I +jus' played 'round and kicked up my heels wid de rest of de chillun. +When us played our hidin' game, us sung somepin' lak dis:</p> + +<pre> +'Mollie, Mollie Bright + Three score and ten, + Can I git dere by candlelight? + Yes, if your laigs is long enough!' +</pre> + +<p>"Sometimes us played what us called de 'Crow' game. Us spread our +fingers out, side by side and counted 'em out wid a rhyme. De one de +last word of de rhyme fell on had to be de crow. I didn't love to be +counted out and made de crow, but it was a heap of fun to count de +others out. Since I been knee high to a grasshopper, I ain't never done +nothin' but wuk 'round white folks' houses.</p> + +<p>"Our log cabins what us lived in was daubed inside and out wid mud to +keep out bad weather. Our beds was held together by cords what was +twisted evvy which way. You had to be mighty careful tightenin' dem +cords or de beds was liable to fall down. Us slept on wheat straw +mattresses and had plenty of good warm quilts for kiver.</p> + +<p>"Grown folks was fed cornbread and meat wid plenty of vegetables in de +week days and on Sunday mornin's dey give 'em wheat bread, what was +somethin' slaves didn't see no more 'til de next Sunday mornin'. 'Bout +four o'clock on summer atternoons, dey sot a big old wooden bowl full of +cornbread crumbs out in de yard and poured in buttermilk or potliquor +'til de crumbs was kivered. Den dey let de chillun gather 'round it and +eat 'til de bowl was empty. In winter chillun was fed inside de house.</p> + +<p>"'Possums, Oh, mussy me! My grandpa hunted 'possums at night and fetched +in two and three at a time. Don't say nothin' 'bout dem rabbits for dere +warn't no end to 'em. Rabbits stewed, rabbits fried, and rabbits dried, +smoked, and cured lak hog meat! I et so many rabbits when I was young I +can't stand to look at 'em now but I could eat 'possums and gnaw de +bones all day long. Marse Billy let grandpa go fishin' and he was all +time bringin' back a passel of minnows and other fishes. Us rubbed 'em +down wid lard and salt and pepper, den rolled 'em in cornmeal and baked +'em. I never seed no fried meat 'til I was a big strappin' gal. Dere was +one big gyarden whar dey raised 'nough vegetables for all de white folks +and slaves too. All de bilin' was done in pots swung on cranes over +coals in de fireplace.</p> + +<p>"Our clothes was made new for us in de fall out of cloth wove in looms +right dar on de plantation. Top clothes was dyed wid hick'ry bark. De +full skirts was gathered to tight fittin' waisties. Underskirts was made +de same way. De dresses had done wore thin 'nough for hot weather by de +time winter was gone so us wore dem same clothes straight on through de +summer, only us left off de underskirts den. Slave chillun didn't never +wear no shoes. Our foots cracked open 'til dey looked lak goose foots. +Us wore de same on Sunday as evvy day, 'cept dat our clothes was clean, +and stiff wid meal starch when us got into 'em on Sunday mornin's.</p> + +<p>"Marse Billie Neal was our owner and Miss Peggy was his old 'oman. Dey +was jus' as good to us as dey could be. Deir two chillun was Marse Tom +and Marse Mid. De car'iage driver never had much to do but drive Marse +Billy and Miss Peggy 'round and, course he had to see dat de hosses and +car'iage was kept clean and shiny. I don't 'member if he tuk de chillun +'round. Chillun didn't stand de show dey does now.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no Ma'am, I sho' can't tell nothin' t'all 'bout how big dat old +plantation was, but it was one whoppin' big place. Dere was too many +slaves on dat plantation for me to count. De overseer got 'em up by 4:00 +o'clock and de mens had to be in de fields by sunrise. De 'omans went +out 'bout 8:00 o'clock. Dey stopped wuk at sundown and by de time dey et +and done de chores for de day it was 10:00 o'clock 'fore dey hit de bed. +De cabins was built in a circle and de overseer went de rounds evvy +night to see if de slaves was in bed.</p> + +<p>"Yes Ma'am, dey whupped de Niggers. My Pappy and grandpa was de wust +ones 'bout gittin' licked. Evvy time Pappy runned away Marse Billy +sicked dem hounds on his heels and dey was sho' to ketch him and fetch +him back. Dey had to keep knives from Pappy or when dem dogs cotch him +he would jus' cut 'em up so dey would die. When dey got him back to de +house, dey would buckle him down over a barrel and larrup him wid a +plaited whup. 'Omans warn't whupped much. My grandpa York was so bad +'bout runnin' 'way Marse Billy made him wear long old horns. One Sunday +Marse Billy went by our church to see if all his Niggers was dar what +was sposen to be dar. And dere grandpa was a-sottin' wid dem horns on +his head. Marse Billy told him he could take de horns off his head +whilst he was in de meetin' house. At dat grandpa dropped dem horns, and +lit a rag to de woods and it tuk de dogs days to find him.</p> + +<p>"If one slave kilt another, Marse Billy made de overseer tie dat dead +Nigger to de one what kilt him, and de killer had to drag de corpse +'round 'til he died too. De murderers never lived long a-draggin' dem +daid ones 'round. Dat jus' pyorely skeered 'em to death. Dere was a +guard house on de farm, whar de wust Niggers was kept, and while dey was +in dat guard house, dey warn't fed but once a day. It warn't nothin' +unusual for Marse Billy to sell slaves, but he never sold his best +Niggers. De ones he sold was allus dem he couldn't git no wuk out of.</p> + +<p>"Not a Nigger could read or write on Marse Billy's plantation. Dey was +all too dumb to larn. Dere was a shackly sort of church house on our +plantation and on Sundays atter de Niggers had cleaned deyselfs up, if +dey told Marse Billy dey wanted to go to church, he sent 'em on. All I +knows 'bout baptizin's is dey jus' tuk 'em to de river and plunged 'em +in. Dey sung somepin' 'bout: 'Gwine to de River for to be Baptized.' Us +had prayer meetin's on Wednesday nights sometimes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mussy! Don't ax me 'bout fun'rals. I got de misery in my laigs and +I feels too bad dis mornin' to let myself even think 'bout fun'rals. +Back den when slave folks died dey jus' put 'em in home-made pine +coffins what dey throwed in a wagon and tuk 'em to de graveyard. At dem +buryin's, dey used to sing:</p> + +<pre> +'Am I born to die + To let dis body down.' +</pre> + +<p>"None of our Niggers ever runned away to de North. Dey was too busy +runnin' off to de woods. Jus' to tell de truth dem Niggers on our place +was so dumb dey didn't even take in 'bout no North. Dey didn't even know +what de war was 'bout 'til it was all over. I don't know whar to start +'bout dem patterollers. Dey was de devil turned a-loose. Dere was a song +'bout 'Run Nigger run, de patteroller git you!' and dey sho' would too, +I want to tell you.</p> + +<p>"What de slaves done on Saddy night? Dey done anything dey was big +'nough to do. Dere warn't no frolickin' 'cept on Sadday night. Niggers +on our place wukked all day Sadday 'cept once a month. Some of de slaves +would slip off and stay half a day and de overseer wouldn't miss 'em +'cause dere was so many in de field. It was jus' too bad for any Nigger +what got cotched at dat trick. Sadday night, slaves was 'lowed to git +together and frolic and cut de buck.</p> + +<p>"Christmas Day Marse Billy called us to de big house and give us a +little fresh meat and sweet bread, dat was cake. Christmas warn't much +diff'unt f'um other times. Jus' more t'eat. Us jus' had dat one day off, +and New Year's Day was used as a holiday too.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dem cornshuckin's! All day 'fore a cornshuckin' dey hauled corn and +put it in great piles as high as dis here house. Us sung all de time us +was shuckin' corn. Dere was a lot of dem old shuckin' songs. De one us +sung most was: 'Whooper John and Calline all night.' Marse Billy, he +give 'em coffee and whiskey all night and dat made 'em git rough and +rowdy. Den de shucks did fly. Us had one more grand feast when de last +ear of corn had done been shucked. Dere warn't nothin' lackin'.</p> + +<p>"Cotton pickin's warn't planned for fun and frolic lak cornshuckin's. If +Marse Billy got behind in his crops, he jus' sent us back to de fields +at night when de moon was bright and sometimes us picked cotton all +night long. Marster give de 'oman what picked de most cotton a day off, +and de man what picked de most had de same privilege.</p> + +<p>"Old Aunt Martha what nussed de chillun while deir Mammies wukked in de +field was de quiltin' manager. It warn't nothin' for 'omans to quilt +three quilts in one night. Dem quilts had to be finished 'fore dey +stopped t'eat a bit of de quiltin' feast. Marse Billy 'vided dem quilts +out 'mongst de Niggers what needed 'em most.</p> + +<p>"Dem blue and white beads what de grown 'omans wore was jus' to look +pretty. Dey never meant nothin' else. Mammy would skeer us down 'bout +Rawhead and Bloody Bones. Us was all time a-lookin' for him, but he +never got dar. What skeered us most was painters (panthers) a-howlin' +close to our cabins at night. You could hear 'em most any night. When +Mammy wanted to make us behave all she had to say was: 'I hears dem +painters comin'!' Dat made us jus' shake all over and git mighty still +and quiet. De mens tried to run dem painters down, but dey never did +ketch one.</p> + +<p>"One of de cabins was allus ha'nted atter some of de slaves got kilt in +it whilst dey was fightin'. Nobody never could live in dat cabin no more +atter dat widout ha'nts gittin' atter 'em. De wust of 'em was a 'oman +ha'nt what you could hear sweepin' up leaves in de yard and all dat time +you might be lookin' hard and not see a leaf move. In dat cabin you +could all time hear ha'nts movin' cheers and knockin' on de wall. Some +of dem ha'nts would p'int a gun in your face if you met 'em in de dark. +Dem ha'nts was too much for me.</p> + +<p>"Our white folks was good as dey knowed how to be when us got sick. I +don't 'member dat dey ever had a doctor for de slaves, but dey give us +all kinds of home-brewed teas. Pinetops, mullein and fat light'ood +splinters was biled together and de tea was our cure for diff'unt +ailments. Scurvy grass tea mixed wid honey was good for stomach +troubles, but you sho' couldn't take much of it at a time. It was de +movin'est medicine! Round our necks us wore asafetida sacks tied on +strings soaked in turpentine. Dat was to keep diseases off of us.</p> + +<p>"What does I 'member 'bout de war? Well, it was fit to fetch our +freedom. Marse Billy had a fine stallion. When de sojers was comin', he +sont Pappy to de woods wid dat stallion and some gold and told him not +to let dem yankees find 'em. Dat stallion kept squealin' 'til de yankees +found him, and dey tuk him and de gold too. Grandma was a churnin' away +out on de back porch and she had a ten dollar gold piece what she didn't +want dem sojers to steal, so she drapped it in de churn. Dem yankees +poured dat buttermilk out right dar on de porch floor and got grandma's +money. Marse Billy hid hisself in a den wid some more money and other +things and dey didn't find him. Dey tuk what dey wanted of what dey +found and give de rest to de slaves. Atter de sojers left, de Niggers +give it all back to Marster 'cause he had allus been so good to 'em.</p> + +<p>"Us stayed on wid Marse Billy for sev'ral years atter de war. He paid us +$10 a month and he 'lowanced out de rations to us evvy week; most allus +on Monday 'cause Sundays us had 'nough company to eat it all at one +time. He give us three pounds of fat meat, a peck of meal, a peck of +flour, 25¢ worth of sugar, and a pound of coffee. Dat had to last a +whole week.</p> + +<p>"I didn't take in nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis and dat +dar Booker T. Washin'ton man, but I heared folks say dey was all right.</p> + +<p>"What is you talkin' 'bout Miss? I didn't need to have no big weddin' +when I married Lige Elder. It was a big 'nough thing to git a man lak +what I got. What did I want to have a big weddin' for when all I was +atter was my man? Us had done been married 25 years 'fore us had no +chillun. Dis here Cornelia what I lives wid was our first chile. She +ain't got no chillun. Isaac, my boy, has got four chillun. My old man +died 'bout two years ago.</p> + +<p>"I j'ined de church 'cause I was happy and wanted de world to know I had +done got 'ligion. I think evvybody ought to git 'ligion. God says if us +do right he will give us all a home in His Heaven.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather have de days as dey is now in some ways. But one thing I +does lak to do is eat and us had a plenty of good eatin' den and never +had to worry none 'bout whar it was a-comin' f'um. Miss, ain't you +through axin' me questions yet? I'm tired of talkin'. I done let de fire +go out under my washpot twice. Dem white folks ain't gwine to lak it if +dey has to wait for deir clothes, and dis misery in my laigs, it sho' +does hurt me bad dis mornin'."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="EveretteMartha"></a> +<h3>MARTHA EVERETTE, EX-SLAVE<br> +Hawkinsville, Georgia<br> +<br> +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson—1936)<br> +[JUL 20 1937]</h3> +<br> + +<p>Born in Pulaski County about 1848, the daughter of Isaac and Amanda +Lathrop, Martha Everette has lived all her life near where she was born.</p> + +<p>Prior to freedom, her first job was "toting in wood", from which she was +soon "promoted" to waiting on the table, house cleaning, etc. She make +no claims to have ever "graduated" as a cook, as so many old +before-the-war Negresses do.</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Martha's owner was a kind man: he never whipped the slaves, but +the overseer "burnt 'em up sometimes." And her mother was a "whipper, +too"—a woman that "fanned" her children religiously, so to speak, not +overlooking Martha. All the Watson slaves attended the (White) Baptist +church at Blue Springs.</p> + +<p>Rations were distributed on Sunday morning of each week, and the slaves +had plenty to eat. The slaves were also allowed to fish, thus often +adding variety to their regular fare.</p> + +<p>Negro women were taught to sew by the overseers' wives, and most of the +slaves' clothes were made from cloth woven on the plantation. The +Yankees visited the Lathrop plantation in '65, asked for food, received +it, and marched on without molesting anything or any body. Truly, these +were well-behaved Yankees!</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Martha says that she remembers quite well when the Yankees +captured Jefferson Davis. She and other slave children were in the "big +house" yard when they heard drums beating, and soon saw the Yankees pass +with Mr. Davis.</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Martha, now old and decrepit, lives with one of her sons, who +takes care of her. This son is a gardener and a carpenter and, being +thrifty, fares much better than many Negroes of his generation.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="FavorLewis"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br> +Ex-Slave #30]<br> +By E. Driskell<br> +Typed by A.M. Whitley<br> +1-29-37<br> +<br> +FIRST COPY OF ARTICLE ENTITLED:<br> +"AN INTERVIEW WITH LEWIS FAVOR," EX-SLAVE<br> +[MAY 8 1937]</h3> + +<p>[TR: informant also referred to as Favors in this document.]</p> +<br> + +<p>Among Atlanta's few remaining ex-slaves is one Lewis Favors. When he +fully understood this worker's reasons for approaching him he consented +to tell what he had seen and experienced as a slave. Chewing slowly on a +large wad of tobacco he began his account in the following manner: "I +was born in Merriweather County in 1855 near the present location of +Greenville, Georgia. Besides my mother there were eight of us children +and I was elder than all of them with one exception. Our owner was Mrs. +Favors, but she was known to everybody as the "Widow Favors." My father +was owned by a Mr. Darden who had a plantation in this same county. When +the "Widow's" husband died he left her about one-hundred acres of land +and a large sum of money and so she was considered as being rich. She +didn't have many slaves of her own and so her son (also a plantation +owner) used to send some of his slaves over occasionally to help +cultivate her crops, which consisted of cotton, corn, and all kinds of +vegetables."</p> + +<p>In regard to her treatment of the slaves that she held Mr. Favors says: +"She wasn't so tight and then she was pretty tight too."</p> + +<p>Those slaves who were field hands were in the field and at work by the +time it was light enough to see. They plowed, hoed, and then later in +the season gathered the crops. After the harvesting was over the fences +were repaired and rails were split. In rainy weather nobody had to work +out of doors, instead they shelled the peas and corn and sometimes +ginned the cotton. At night the women were required to spin and to +weave. In the winter season no work was required at night unless they +had not spun as much thread as was required. At such times they had to +work at night until the amount set had been reached.</p> + +<p>Mr. Favor's mother was the cook for the "Widow Favors" and her two +neices who lived with her. The Favors had paid the owner of a hotel Four +hundred dollars to have the hotel cook teach her (Mr. Favors mother) to +prepare all kinds of fancy dishes. His father was a field hand on the +Darden plantation. In addition to this he repaired all the shoes when +this was necessary.</p> + +<p>As a child Mr. Favors was not very strong physically and because of this +the "Widow" made him her pet. He never had to do any work other than +that of waiting on the mistress while she ate her meals. Even in this he +had to get up at four o'clock in the morning and help his mother in the +kitchen. Sometimes he would sweep the yards if he felt like doing so. +When he grew older he was given the task of picking the seed out of the +cotton at night.</p> + +<p>On Sundays all the servants were free to do as they pleased, that is, +with the exception of Mr. Favors, his mother, and the two women who +serve as maids to the "Widow's" two neices. At other times if a task was +done before the day was over with they were given the remaining time to +do as they pleased. However, everybody had a one week holiday at +Christmas.</p> + +<p>Mr. Favors made the following statement in regard to the clothing: +"Everybody wore the homespun cotton clothes that were made on the +plantation by the slave women. The women wore striped ausenberg dresses +while the men wore ausenberg pants and shirts that had been made into +one garment. My clothes were always better than the other little +fellows, who ran around in their shirttails because I was always in the +house of the "Widow." They used red clay to do the dyeing with. In the +winter time cracked feet were common. The grown people wore heavy shoes +called brogans while I wore the cast-off shoes of the white ladies. We +all wrapped our feet in bagging sacks to help them to keep warm. We were +given one complete outfit of clothes each year and these had to last +until the time for the next issue."</p> + +<p>Sheets for the beds were also made out of homespun material while the +heavier cover such as the quilts, etc., were made from the dresses and +the other clothing that was no longer fit for wear.</p> + +<p>As a general rule all of the slaves on this plantation had enough food +to keep them well and healthy. At the end of each week the field hands +were given enough food to last them seven days. For most of them the +week's supply consisted of three and one-half pounds of pork or fat +meat, one peck of meal, flour, and black molasses. The only meals that +they had to prepare from the above mentioned articles were breakfast and +supper. Dinner was cooked in the plantation kitchen by one of the women +who was too old for work in the fields. For this particular meal the +slaves had some different type of vegetable each day along with the fat +meat, corn bread, and the pot liquor which was served every day. They +were allowed to come in from the fields to the house to be served. +Breakfast usually consisted of fat meat, molasses, and corn bread while +supper consisted of pot-liquor, bread, and milk. The only variation from +this diet was on Sunday when all were allowed to have bisquits instead +of corn bread. Mr. Favors was asked what happened if anyone's food was +all eaten before it was time for the weekly issue and he answered: "It +was just too bad for them 'cause they would have to do the best they +could until the time came to get more." When such a thing happened to +anyone the others usually helped as far as their limited supplies would +permit.</p> + +<p>Mr. Favors says that he, his mother, and the two maids ate the same kind +of food that the "Widow," and her nieces were served. After he had seen +to the wants of all at the table he had to take a seat at the table +beside his owner where he ate with her and the others seated there.</p> + +<p>There were two one-roomed cabins located directly behind the four-roomed +house of the "Widow," the entire lot of them were built out of logs. +These two cabins were for the use of those servants who worked in the +house of their owner. At one end of each cabin there was a wide +fireplace which was made of sticks, stones, and dried mud. Instead of +windows there were only one or two small holes cut in the back wall of +the cabin. The beds were made out of heavy planks and were called +"Georgia Looms," by the slaves. Wooden slats were used in the place of +bed springs while the mattresses were merely large bags that had been +stuffed to capacity with hay, wheat straw, or leaves. The only other +furnishings in each of these cabins were several benches and a few +cooking utensils. Mr. Favors says: "We didn't have plank floors like +these on some of the other plantations; the plain bare ground served as +our floor." As he made this statement he reminded this worker that he +meant his mother and some of the other house servants lived in these +cabins. He himself always lived in the house with the "Widow Favors," +who had provided a comfortable bed along with a small chair for his use. +These slaves who worked in the fields lived in several cabins that were +somewhat nearer to their fields than the other two cabins mentioned +above.</p> + +<p>The remaining buildings on the Favors' plantation were the smokehouse +and the cook house where in addition to the cooking the younger children +were cared for by another old person. The woman who cared for these +children had to also help with the cooking.</p> + +<p>Whenever any of the slaves were sick the doctor was called if conditions +warranted it, otherwise a dose of castor oil was prescribed. Mr. Favors +stated that after freedom was declared the white people for whom they +worked gave them hog-feet oil and sometimes beef-oil both of which had +the same effect as castor oil. If any were too ill to work in the field +one of the others was required to remain at the cabin or at some other +convenient place so as to be able to attend to the wants of these so +indisposed.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Favors was asked if the servants on this plantation ever had +the chance to learn how to read or to write he answered: "They was all +afraid to even try because they would cut these off," and he held up his +right hand and pointed to his thumb and forefinger. At any rate the +"Widow," nieces taught him to read a few months before the slaves were +set free.</p> + +<p>On Sunday all were required to attend the white church in town. They sat +in the back of the church as the white minister preached and directed +the following text at them: "Don't steal your master's chickens or his +eggs and your backs won't be whipped." In the afternoon of this same day +when the colored minister was allowed to preach the slaves heard this +text: "Obey your masters and your mistresses and your backs won't be +whipped." All of the marriages ware performed by the colored preacher +who read a text from the Bible and then pronounced the couple being +married as man and wife.</p> + +<p>Although nobody was ever sold on the Favors plantation Mr. Favors has +witnessed the selling of others on the auction block. He says that the +block resembled a flight of steps. The young children and those women +who had babies too young to be separated from them were placed on the +bottom step, those in their early teens on the next, the young men and +women on the next, and the middle-aged and old ones on the last one. +Prices decreased as the auctioneer went from the bottom step to the top +one, that is, the younger a slave was the more money he brought if he +was sold.</p> + +<p>Sometimes there were slaves who were punished by the overseer because +they had broken some rule. Mr. Favors says that at such times a cowhide +whip was used and the number of lashes that the overseer gave depended +on the slave owner's instructions. He has seen others whipped and at +such times he began praying. The only punishment that he ever received +was as a little boy and then a switch was used instead of the whip. If +the "Patter-Roller" caught a slave out in the streets without a pass +from his master they proceeded to give the luckless fellow five lashes +with a whip called the cat-o-nine-tails. They gave six lashes if the +slave was caught out at night regardless of whether he had a pass or +not.</p> + +<p>As none of the slaves held by the "Widow" or her son ever attempted to +run away there was no punishment for this. However, he has heard that on +other plantations blood hounds were used to trail those who ran away and +if they were caught a severe beating was administered.</p> + +<p>Sometime after the civil war had begun the "Widow Favors" packed as many +of her belongings as possible and fled to LaGrange, Georgia. He and his +mother along with several other slaves (one of whom was an old man) were +taken along. He never heard any of the white people say anything about +the war or its possible results. At one time a battle was being fought a +few miles distant and they all saw the cannon balls fall on the +plantation. This was when the journey to LaGrange was decided upon. +Before leaving the "Widow" had the slaves to bury all the meat, flour, +and other food on the plantation so that the Yankee soldiers would not +get it. Mr. Favors was given about two thousand dollars in gold +currency to keep and protect for his owner. At various intervals he had +to take this money to the "Widow". so that she might count it. Another +one of the slaves was given the son's gold watch to keep on his person +until the Yanks left the vicinity.</p> + +<p>Before freedom was declared Mr. Favors says that he prayed all of the +time because he never wanted to be whipped with the cowhide, like others +he had seen. Further he says that it was a happy day for him when he was +told that he could do as he pleased because he realized then that he +could do some of the things that he had always wanted to do.</p> + +<p>When freedom was declared for the slaves the Favors family freed slaves +valued at one-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The live stock that +they sold represented a like sum. Mr. Favors and his mother remained +with the "Widow," who gave him his board in return for his services and +paid his mother twenty-five dollars per year for hers as cook.</p> + +<p>"Even after the war things were pretty tough for us" stated Mr. Favors. +"The plantation owners refused to pay more than thirty or forty cents to +a person for a days work in the fields. Some of them would not allow an +ex-slave to walk in the streets in front of their homes but made them +take to the out-of-the-way paths through the woods to reach their +various destinations. At other times white men cut the clothes from the +backs of the ex-slaves when they were well dressed. If they didn't beg +hard enough when thus accosted they might even be cut to death!" After +the first three years following the war conditions were somewhat better, +he continued.</p> + +<p>Mr. Favors says that his old age is due to the fact that he has always +taken good care of himself and because he has always refrained from +those habits that are known to tear a person's health down.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="FergusonMary"></a> +<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br> +Ex-Slave #28]<br> +<br> +THE STORY OF AUNT MARY FERGUSON, EX-SLAVE<br> +1928 Oak Street<br> +Columbus, Georgia<br> +December 18, 1936</h3> +<br> + +<p>"Aunt" Mary Ferguson, née Mary Little, née Mary Shorter, was born +somewhere in Maryland; the exact locality being designated by her simply +as "the eastern shore" of that state. She was born the chattel of a +planter named Shorter, so her first name, of course, was Mary Shorter.</p> + +<p>For many years she has resided with a daughter and a granddaughter, at +1928 Oak Avenue, Columbus, Georgia.</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Mary was about thirteen years old when, in 1860, she was sold and +brought South. The story of which, as told in her own words is as +follows:</p> + +<p>"In 1860 I wuz a happy chile. I had a good ma an a good paw; one older +bruther an one older suster, an a little bruther an a baby suster, too. +All my fambly wucked in de fields, 'ceptin me an de two little uns, +which I stayed at home to mind. (mind—care for).</p> + +<p>"It wuz durin' cotton chopping time dat year (1860), a day I'll never +fergit, when de speckulataws bought me. We come home from the fiel' +'bout haf atter 'leven dat day an cooked a good dinner, I hopin her. O, +I never has forgot dat last dinner wid my fokes! But, some-ow, I had +felt, all de mawnin, lak sumpin was gwineter hapin'. I could jes feel +it in my bones! An' sho nough, bout de middle of the even', up rid my +young Marster on his hoss, an' up driv two strange white mens in a +buggy. Dey hitch dere hosses an' cum in de house, which skeered me. Den +one o' de strangers said, 'git yo clothers, Mary; we has bought you frum +Mr. Shorter." I c'menced cryin' an' beggin' Mr. Shorter to not let 'em +take me away. But he say, 'yes, Mary, I has sole yer, an' yer must go +wid em.'</p> + +<p>"Den dese strange mens, whose names I ain't never knowed, tuk me an' put +me in de buggy an' driv off wid me, me hollerin' at de top o' my voice +an' callin' my Ma! Den dem speckulataws begin to sing loud—jes to drown +out my hollerin.'</p> + +<p>"Us passed de very fiel whar paw an' all my fokes wuz wuckin, an' I calt +out as loud as I could an', as long as I could see 'em, 'good-bye, Ma!' +'good-bye, Ma!' But she never heared me. Naw, nah, daz white mens wuz +singin' so loud Ma could'n hear me! An' she could'n see me, caze dey had +me pushed down out o' sight on de floe o' de buggy.</p> + +<p>"I ain't never seed nor heared tell o' my Ma an' Paw, an' bruthers, an' +susters from dat day to dis.</p> + +<p>"My new owners tuck me to Baltymore, whar dey had herded tergether two +two-hoss wagon loads o' Niggers. All o' us Niggers wuz den shipped on a +boat to Savannah, an' frum dar us wuz put on de cyars an' sont to Macon.</p> + +<p>"In Macon, us wuz sold out, and Doctor (W.R.) Little, of Talbotton, +bought me at oxion (auction) an' tuck me home wid 'im. Den I wuz known +as Mary Little, instid of Mary Shorter."</p> + +<p>In the continuation of her narrative, "Aunt" Mary said that the Littles +trained her to be a nurse. Before the war ended, she was inherited by +Mr. Gus (the late Hon. W.A.) Little.</p> + +<p>She remembers that all the "quality", young white men who went to the +war from Talbotton took Negro men-servants (slaves) along with them. +These were usually called body-servants, and it was a body-servant's +duty to cook, wash, and do general valet service for his master. In a +pinch, he was also supposed to raid a hen roost, or otherwise rustle +food for his "white fokes".</p> + +<p>According to "Aunt" Mary, the Little Negroes were very religious and +given to much loud praying and singing, which often so disturbed Dr. +Little that he gave orders for them to stop it, and also ordered that +all lights in the slave quarters be out at 9 o'clock each night.</p> + +<p>"So us tuck to slippin' off to a big gully in de pastur to sing and pray +whar de white fokes couldn' hear us.</p> + +<p>"My fust baby wuz bawned in 1862, during de secon' year o' de war. I +has had several husbants, my las' un, he died 'bout seventeen years ago.</p> + +<p>"I ain't never seed but one hant in my life, an' I didn' know it wuz a +hant 'til Aunt Peggy (an old slave woman) tole me so. Dis hant was in de +shape o' a duck, an' it followed me one day frum de big house kitchen +ter de hawg pen whar I wuz gwine ter slop de hawgs. When I got back, I +said, 'Aunt Peggy, dar's a strange duck done tuck up wid us!' And she +say, 'hush, chile, dat's a hant!' I been seein' 'im fur severrel years! +An' dat sholy skeert me!"</p> + +<p>When asked if she had ever been whipped when a slave, "Aunt" Mary +replied, "Yes, and thank God fur it, fur ole Miss taught me to be hones' +an' not to steal." She admitted that being whipped for stealing made her +an honest woman.</p> + +<p>"Aunt" Mary's oldest child is now a man of 74. Her hair is as white as +cotton and her eye sight is dim, but she is still mentally alert. She +says that colored people are naturally religious and that they learned +all their "devilment" from the Whites. She deplores the wickedness into +which the world has drifted, but thanks God that slavery ended when it +did.</p> + +<p>She has never had any particular love for the Yankees, and thinks that +they treated the Southern white folks "most scandalously" after the war, +yet feels that she owes them a debt of gratitude for freeing her +people. She admits that her awful hatred of slavery was born of her sad +experience as a girl when she was so unceremoniously separated from her +loved ones, as previously told. She is also of the firm opinion the +those "speculataws" who brought her from Maryland to Georgia in 1860 are +"brilin in hell fur dey sin" of seperating her from her people.</p> + +<pre> +Must Jesus bear the cross alone +and all the world go free? +No, there is a cross for every one; +there's a cross for me; +This consecrated cross I shall bear til +death shall set me free, +And then go home, my crown to wear; +there is a crown for me. +</pre> + +<p>Sung for interviewer by Mary Ferguson, ex-slave, December 18, 1936.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="FryerCarrieNancy"></a> +<h3>FOLKLORE INTERVIEW<br> +<br> +CARRIE NANCY FRYER<br> +415 Mill Street<br> +Augusta, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Miss Maude Barragan<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residency #13<br> +Augusta, Georgia</h3> +<br> + +<p>An angular, red-skinned old Negro women was treading heavily down the +dusty sidewalk, leaning on a gnarled stick and talking to a little black +girl. A "sundown" hat shaded a bony face of typical Indian cast and her +red skin was stretched so tight over high cheek bones that few wrinkles +showed.</p> + +<p>"Auntie," she was asked, "have you time to tell me something about +slavery times?" "No'm, I sorry," she answered, "but I gwine to see a +sick lady now, and I gots to 'tend to somepin'." "May I come back to see +you at your house?" "Yas'm, any time you wants. I live in de lil' house +on de canal, it has a ellum tree in front. I riz it from sapling. I name +dat lil' tree 'Nancy' so when I gone, folks kin come by and bow and say +'Howdy, Nancy.'"</p> + +<p>She seated herself on a stone step and spread her many skirts of gray +chambray, hand-sewed with big white stitches. An old woman came by, her +shining black face puckered with anxiety, dressed in a starched white +uniform and a battered black hat, well brushed.</p> + +<p>"Morning, Nancy," she said. "You look mighty peak-ked dis morning."</p> + +<p>"Hunh!" grunted Nancy, "I oughter. I bin to see de mayor. I say 'Mr. +Mayor, here I is. I ain' got nuttin' to eat—it ain' right for a woman +my age to beg food. Now what yer gwine do 'bout it?' De mayor say: +'Auntie, you go right down to de welfare office at de Court House and +tell de lady I sont you to git somepin' to eat.' I done dat—dey promise +to send a lady, but I ain' see no lady yit." A heavy sigh rolled out. "I +didn' lef' skin of meat in my house or a piece of cornpone. But I didn' +take nuttin' to heart 'cause de Lord is my helper."</p> + +<p>The old woman sighed too. "Yeah, Nancy, das de way dey does. I ain' +gwine keep nasty house for nobody. But white people's funny. Dey think +if you got clean house and bleachin' sheets you mus' have somepin' to +eat inside." She clenched her fist, and her voice rose. "I tells you +right now—I gwine keep my house neat jus' like I bin taught, ef I never +gits no somepin' t'eat and ain' got cornpone in de oven."</p> + +<p>"A poor creeter come to my house today to beg for somepin' to eat," said +Nancy, "I ain' got nuttin' and I tell her so. She say she gwine to de +court-house too."</p> + +<p>"T'won't do no good," answered the other woman. "Come over here, Nancy. +I wants to talk to you."</p> + +<p>With a dignified excuse, Nancy creaked to her long length and moved +deliberately to the edge of the sidewalk. Whisperings followed, the +voices of the two old women rising in their excitement.</p> + +<p>"I ain' gwine into somepin' I don't know nuttin' about."</p> + +<p>"Nobody gwine 'swade me either."</p> + +<p>"My husband didn' put no composin' on me. If I don't git but one meal a +day, I ain' gwine dirty. I didn' have mouthful t'eat in my house."</p> + +<p>The interested eavesdropper decided that the welfare office had talked +social security to the women instead of direct relief, and they were +worried and suspicious about the matter. The old black woman was getting +angrier and angrier.</p> + +<p>"If any of 'em lookin' for me to have nasty old tore-up house, I ain' +gwine did it. You dunno when sickness come. When my boy got his leg +broke up, soon as dey could, dey put him off on me. Miz' Powell say: +'Steve, if you don't be good to your ma, de Lord gwine take your +blessing from you.' Dey paid Steve $137.00, Nancy, and he ain't gimmie a +nickle! He spent it on a woman in Edgefield. But my gal is diffunt. If +she ain' got but one mouthful she gwine give me half."</p> + +<p>Nancy nodded: "Dat like my gal too."</p> + +<p>The old woman took up her complaint again: "Um got daughter. When you +walk in her house, you think dey is a white person's house. When I was +workin and able, I put down as many bleachin' sheets as any white +'oman."</p> + +<p>Nancy's ponderous sigh rolled out. She was very "peaked" indeed on this +hot September morning. "If sister got a hoecake of bread, she gwine give +it to me. Ain' nobody else to help now—de Lord done come along and got +ev'y one of my mother's chillun but me."</p> + +<p>Seeing that present necessities were too important to permit an +interview, the visitor said: "Nancy, I'll see you tomorrow." A +preoccupied goodbye followed the interviewer, and the excited +conversation rose again.</p> + +<p>Three days later Nancy was found on the cluttered back porch of her +house by the canal. She was moving heavily about, picking up behind a +white boy and her bright-faced grandchild. Her face was still worried, +but her manner was warm and friendly.</p> + +<p>"I knowed you'd be comin'," she said, smiling, "but I looked for you +yesterday." She sat down and settled herself for conversation, her long +hands, still nice looking in spite of rheumatism, moving nervously over +her gray chambray lap. "Dis las' gone August I was 72 years old," she +began, "my sister say I older dan dat, but I know I born las' year of de +war. I was born on governor Pickens' place, de Grove place fur out, and +my mother was Lizbeth Cohen. Must have was my father a Indian, he +brighter dan me, but redder. I kin' member Miss Dooshka Pickens, de one +what went to Europe. Dey put all de lil' chillun in a row for her to +look at, and she sittin' up on her lil' pony lookin' at us chillun. She +was a pretty thing, yeah, I knowed her well. After de war my mother and +father rented land, paid de rent. We liveded well. I would go to school +three months when we first gether all de krep (crop). We had a colored +teacher in de Baptist Church where dey taught school. De name was +Spring Grove.</p> + +<p>"My father died and mother, she moved over in Ca-lina on General +Butler's place. She work in de fields. I wouldn' go to school but three +months in de year. When I growed up I work for Colonel Doctor McKie in +de house. He de fines' doctor I ever knowed. I got married to General +Butler's place where my mother was. I done had six chillun before I come +to Augusta. I nused to work for Dr. Sam Litchenstein, 17 years. He moved +to Louisville and dat thow me out anything to do. He tried to git me to +go down dere wid him but I fell in bad health. Den my daughter and dis +yere grandchild, I couldn' bear to leave dem. I cried when Dr. Sam lef', +he was good to me. I nused to carry dis grandchild to his house wid me +all de time."</p> + +<p>As Nancy's plantation recollections seemed vague, she was prompted to +talk about remedies and cures and on these her mind worked with speed +and decision.</p> + +<p>"I had high blood pressure so bad I couldn' walk right. My head nused to +spin, laying down all night, couldn' res. One night I doze off in my +sleep and a lady's spirit come to me. Her and my mother was two friends, +her name was Cyndie Gardenigh. She say: 'Honey, in de morning when you +git up, you git you some jimpson weed and put it wid cookin' salt and +bind it on your head.' I done det. I nused to have long hair to my +shoulder. Jimpson weed done cut my hair off, but it cured my blood +pressure. Mus' did kill 'em!"</p> + +<p>Asked how she treated her rheumatism, Nancy replied:</p> + +<p>"Git a pint glass wid a pint of kerosene in it, and a block of camphor. +Cut up de camphor and mix it round in de kerosene. Pat it on when de +pain come. When I got up dis morning, dis yere hand I couldn' move, and +now it feel a heap better. Lord, I done work so hard thoo' life, and all +done tuk from me!"</p> + +<p>A moment's silence brought shadows to Nancy's face. A twinge in her knee +reminded her of rheumatism cures. She rubbed the painful spot and +resumed: "You know what I am wearin' on my leg now? I made me two lil' +bags and put a Irish potato in it, and when it drawed up jus' as hard as +a log it done me good. But you got to <i>steal</i> two Irish potatoes, +and put around both legs jus' below de knee. I just' be leanin' back +stiff all de time, couldn' walk. A old white man told me about dat. He +see me walkin' along crooked and he say: 'Auntie, what's de matter?' I +told him. He say: 'Now, I'll tell you what cure me. I was off in a furn +(foreign) country, and a man say; me walking cripple, and he told me to +steal two Irish potatoes and wear 'em, and when dey git hard you burn +'em up.' I specked I bin crooked up all kind of fashion if I ain't done +dat: I always bind a piece of brass around my leg. Das' good like gold."</p> + +<p>The eager grandchild was hanging over Nancy's shoulder, listening and +smiling. The white boy edged up, and Nancy laughed. "Hunh! I spects dese +chillun kin 'member tomorrow every word I tells you today. Dey knows +everything." Her bony arm encircled the Negro child. "Jooroosalom +oak—we got some and give it to dis lil' thing for worms. She went off +in a trance and never come out until 2 o'clock nex' day. I think we got +de wrong thing and give her root instead of seed. I never fool wid it no +more it skeered me so. Thought we had killed de child."</p> + +<p>Nancy was asked what her methods were in raising children.</p> + +<p>"Bin so long I mos' forgot," she said. "All my babies growed straight +'cause I swep' 'em 9 times for 9 mornings from de knees down on out, +dataway, and bathed 'em wid pot liquor and dish water. I ain' nused no +root cep' sassafax roots to make tea outten das good to purge your blood +in de spring of de year. Drinkin' water from a horse trough, I hearn' +tell das good for whoopin' cough and all lika-dat."</p> + +<p>"Dat daughter of mine, she had a wen on her neck big as a apple. An old +lady come to me. 'I come to git my child today,' she say, 'a lady died +dis morning and I wants to take her dere.' Well I didn' want my child +gwine to de death house but she take her. De corpse ain' cold yit. She +put her 9 times across, nine times straight, and dat child was cured. +Yas'm, she got jus' as pretty face now! Ain' no use talkin', she +straighten my child, her and de Lord! De wen went and jus' pass away. +You got to do it before de corpse git cold, jus' after de breaf' pass +out of de body."</p> + +<p>"I done mark three of my chillun. Yas'm, I ruin't three of 'em. I was +een de country and I was gwine thoo' de orchard, and de cherries was +scarce. I looked up in de man's cherry tree, and one tree was full of +fruit. Dey jus' as pretty! I say: 'Jim, please sir, give me one of dem +cherries.' Jim say: 'No!' I stood dere wishin' for dem cherries, +scratchin' my wrist, and my child born wid cherry on his wrist, right +where I scratch! I took de baby and showed him to old man Jim, and he +cry and pray over dat cherry and told me to forgive him and he never +would do it no more. But he done it den."</p> + +<p>"I live in de country. I come to town where a white man was down here on +McKinne Street makin' dat soft white candy. I stood up and wished for +it. It did look so pretty and I wanted some so bad and I didn' have no +money. I was cryin', scratchin' my forehead over my right eye near de +hair. He didn' give me none. When my gal born, she had white mark right +on her forehead in de place I scratched."</p> + +<p>"My sister-in-law made me ruin't my other child. Twas an old man coming +along. He was ruptured. He had on a white ap'on, and she bus' out +laughin' and say: 'Look at dat!' I jus' young gal, ain' be thinkin' and +I bus' out laughin' too, he did look funny. I ruin't my boy. He was in +de same fix and when I look at him I feel so bad, and think 'dat didn' +have to be.'"</p> + +<p>"Dis kin happen: anybody see another person wid pretty hair and rub dey +hair down, dat child gwine have mustee hair too. A old black 'oman had a +baby. She seen somebody wid dat mustee hair (das what we calls black +folks wid smooth straight hair) and when her child born, everybody say: +'Look what dis baby got! Long black hair!"</p> + +<p>Asked about persons born with cauls, Nancy grunted:</p> + +<p>"Hunh! My mother said it cover my head, shoulders and all! I kin see +ghosts. Was a man lived right dere in dat house yonder. His name was +Will Beasley but we call 'im Bee. De fus' time he got sick he had a +stroke, den he git up. De doctor told him to be careful but he would go +out. One night about 8 o'clock I see him go. I stay sittin' here on dis +porch, and about 10 o'clock here come Bee out of his house, in his night +clothes out de open door and cross de yard. He go behind dat house. I +call out: 'Bee, I thought you was gone off? He didn' notice me no more +dan I never spoke. I got worried about him bein' sick and when he come +out from behind de house I say: 'Bee, you bes' be gwine indorrs, dress +lika-dat. You git sick again.' He walk straight back in de house. Pretty +soon here come Bee down de street, all dressed up in his brown pants and +white shirt! I grab de bannister just' a-tremblin' and de hair rizzed up +on my head. I knowed den he ain' got long for here. He come on by and +say: 'Nancy, how you feelin'?' I say: 'Bee, how long you bin out?' He +say: 'Why, I bin gone since 8 o'clock.' I didn't say nuttin' but I +knowed I seed his spirit and it was his death. He tooken sick two or +three weeks later jus' before Labor Day, and died all paralyzed up. A +woman come to my house and say: 'Nancy, give dis to Bee.' I didn' want +to see him if he dyin' but I went on over. I call: 'Bee! Bee!' He say: +'Who dat, you, Miz' Nancy?' I say: 'Here's a bottle of medicine Miss +Minnie sont you.' He say: 'I can't move my right side.' He was: laying +wid his leg and arm in the air: stiff as a board. He say: 'Miz Nancy?' I +say: 'Hunh?' He say: 'Go down de canal bank and tell my Minnie please +come and rub me 'cause she know how. I want my Minnie.' Das de 'oman he +bin livin' wid since his wife lef' him. I wait till de King Mill boys +come along and call 'em. 'Tell Miz' Minnie dat Will Bee want her to come +and rub him.' But she never did come till 12 o'clock and he was dead +before she come.</p> + +<p>"I did had a niece what died. She was about 20 years old and a good +boy. Twas a year in August. I went on so over him, his mother say: +'Don't you know his last words was, 'I'm on my way to heaven and I ain' +gwine turn back?' Don't worry, Nancy.' But I did worry. Dat night he +come to me in spirit. He stand dere and look at me and smile, and he +say: 'Aunt, I am all right. Aunt, I am all right,' over and over. Den it +went off. I was jus' as satisfy den, and I never worry no more."</p> + +<p>Nancy said she saw ghosts all through her childhood. She did not +characterize them as "hants" but spoke of them throughout as ghosts.</p> + +<p>"I seed 'em when I was chillun," she said, "me and my sister one night +was comin' from spring. Twas in de winter time and jus' as cold, twas +dark and I had de light. Sister say: 'Babe, don't let dat light go out.' +Jus' den I seed it—a horse's head all spread out in fore! A big ball of +fire! I yelled: 'Oh, sister, look at de horse wid a head of fire!' She +knock me out for dead! She grab dat light and run home and lef' me in de +wood. When I come to I run to my mother crying and she say: 'Now Nancy, +you know you kin see 'em but you ought not to tell de other chillun and +skeer 'em. You mus' keep it to yourself.' Ever since den, I won't tell +nobody what I kin see. Yas'm, I wake up in de nighttime and see 'em +standin' all 'bout dis house. I ain' skeered—when you born wid de veil +it jus' be natchel to see 'em. Why, I sees 'em on de canal bank when de +fog sprangles through de trees and de shape forms on de ground'.</p> + +<p>"I hears de death alarm too. One kind of call comes from out de sky, a +big howlin' noise, loud like singin'—a regular tune. De other kind goes +'hummmmmmm' like somebody moanin'. I was settin' down and de bull bat +come in de house. Me and de chillun done all we could to git him out de +house. A woman nex' door was name Rachel. I say: 'Rachel! Dere's a bull +bat in here and we can't get him out.' You know what she done? She turn +her pocket inside out and dat bat went out de door jus' like it come in! +Dat a simple thing to do, ain' it? But it done de work. Dat was on +Thursday night. Saturday morning I got de news that my babiest sister +was dead. One of my boys was wid her. I was settin' down wid my head +bowed, prayin', and a white man dressed in a white robe come in de house +and stood before me and say: 'Oh, yeah! I gwine take your sister! Den +what your child gwine do?' I sot down and studied and I said: 'Lord, +I'll do de bes' I kin.' And Miss you know I had to take dat child back!</p> + +<p>"Before I los' my husband ev'y time he go out to work I couldn' hear +nuttin' but knockin'—ever he step out de house somebody come to de door +and knock four slow knocks. If he go off in de night it wouldn' stop +till he git back. I wouldn' tell him 'cause I knowed twould worry him. I +say: 'Sam, les' us move.' He say: 'Honey, we ain' long bin move here.' +But us 'cided to move anyway. Twas a big show in town. I let all de +chillun go to de show. Time I got my things fix up to move and went to +cook my dinner come de knockin' four times. I knowed he'd be took sick +pretty soon. He didn' 'low me to work. Dat was a good husband! I had six +chillun. He say: 'Honey, no! I workin' makin' enough to support you. All +I want you to do is keep dis house clean and me and my chillun, and I +will pay you de five dollars every week de white lady would pay you.' +And he done dat, gimme five dollars every week for myself.</p> + +<p>"A white lady was crazy about my work, jus' her and her husband. I got +up soon one morning, time he left, and runned up dere and washed her +clothes and ironed dem. Den I started back home 'bout noon. I heared +somethin' walkin' behind me. 'Bip! Bip!' I look round and didn' see +nuttin'. I kep' a lookin' back and den I heard a voice moanin' and kind +of singing: 'Oh, yeah! I bin here and done took your mother. I bin here +and done took your sister! Now I'm a-comin' to take your husband!' +Talking to me like-dat in de broad open daytime! I say: 'No, you won't! +No, you won't!' I commence a runnin', cryin' inside. When I got home I +thow myself on de bed shiverin' and shakin'. Twas no dinner done dat +day. When he come home dat night he tooken sick and never got up again. +He knock on de head of de bed jus' like de knocks come at de door, when +he want me to go to him! He never lived but two weeks and went on to de +judgment!</p> + +<p>"One night dey was givin' my husband toddy. He drink some and wanted me +to finish it. I told him no, I ain' drinkin' after no sick folks 'cause +it mean death. His first cousin tooked it and drank it. He was a fine +looking man in two months he was gone too!</p> + +<p>"My husband come to me in spirit any time I git worried up. When I git +in trouble he'll come and stand over me wid his arms folded behind him. +He told me one night: 'You must pray, Nancy. You must pray! Um gwine +help, and de Lord gwine help you too.' Missy, how you reckon he gwine +help me if he dead? I ask de Lord and beg him to take me too, beg him to +please carry me home."</p> + +<p>Nancy was becoming more and more doleful, and to take her mind from the +thought of her dead husband, she was asked about remedies.</p> + +<p>"When us had de mumps mother git sardines and take de oil out and rub us +jaws and dat cure us good. Sassafax for measles, to run de numor (humor) +out de blood. When de fever gone, she would grease us wid grease from +skin of meat. Git fat light'ood, make fire, cut de skin off bacon meat, +broil it over flame and let grease drip into a pan, den rub us all over +for de rash. Couldn' wash us you see, 'cep' under de arms a little +'cause water musn' tech us. For a sty in de eye we nused to say: 'Sty! +Lie!' You see dat call 'em a lie and dey go on off. 'Um got a sty! Sty! +Lie!' When witches ride me I took a sifter. An old lady told me de nex' +time dey come, 'you put de sifter in de bed.' I done dat and dey ain' +bother me since. A basin of water under de bed is good too."</p> + +<p>Nancy had an experience with a gold digger. He came to board, and had an +inconvenient habit of staying up all night. "I nused to have a old man +stay here wid me. One night I couldn' lay down it was so cold, so I sit +up and wrop in a blanket. He say: 'Nancy, see yonder! In de corner of +your yard is a pot of gold.' Now I knows if you go and git de money what +de dead done bury, you don't see no peace, so I told him he couldn' dig +in my yard. I made him move. A 'oman say he went to stay wid her and +when she got up one morning he had dug a hole in de yard big as a well, +so she runned him off too. He had all de implee-ments but he wouldn' let +nobody see him digging in de night. Well Miss, I knowed dat gold was +truly in my yard, because I got up one night and looked out dere, and a +white 'oman was standin' right where de old man say twas gold pot. I +look at de white lady, a high white lady, and she kep' her eye down in +dat corner guardin' de gold what she bury! Den I seed her go on off +thoo' de gate and I knowed twas de spirit of de woman what bury it."</p> + +<p>Nancy did not remember any stories about witches, booger-men or animals, +but she did give a version of the story of the mistress who was buried +alive.</p> + +<p>"Dat really did happen in Edgefield," she said. "Marster los' his +daughter and den his butler went to de cemetery and dugged her up. He +was gittin' de jewelries off of her finger when she moan; 'Oh, you +hurtin' my finger!' He runned back to de house and she got up out of de +coffin and went to de Big House. She knock on de door and her father +went, and he fainted. Her mother went, and she fainted. Everyone went to +de door fainted. But her father come to himself and he was so happy to +have his daughter back, he said God let de man dig her up and git her +out alive. He made dat nigger rich. Gin him a whole plantation and two +big carriage horses and a great big carriage and I dunno how much gold +and silver. Told him he didn' want him to do anything but sit down and +live off of what he gin him de res' of his life."</p> + +<p>Nancy asked her visitor to write a postcard to her "dear doctor" in +Louisville and tell him she was having a hard time. She insisted that +the card be signed: "Your Carrie Fryer what used to work for you, with +love."</p> + +<p>"Come back and see me some more," she begged wistfully, "I bin callin' +you in my mind all week."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr width="65%"><br><br> +<a name="FurrAnderson"></a> +<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br> +<br> +ANDERSON FURR, Age 87<br> +298 W. Broad Street<br> +Athens, Georgia<br> +<br> +Written by:<br> +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (white)]<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Edited by:<br> +Sarah H. Hall<br> +Athens<br> +<br> +Leila Harris<br> +Augusta<br> +<br> +and<br> +John N. Booth<br> +District Supervisor<br> +Federal Writers' Project<br> +Residencies 6 & 7</h3> +<br> + +<p>Anderson Furr's address led the interviewer to a physician's residence +on Broad Street, where she was directed to a small frame house on the +rear of the lot. The little three-room cottage has a separate entrance +from Pulaski Street. Three stone steps lead from the street to the +narrow yard which is enclosed by a low rock coping. Anderson rents only +one room and the remainder of the house is occupied by Annie Sims and +her husband, George, who works at the Holman Hotel.</p> + +<p>Reclining comfortably in a cane-backed chair, with his walking stick +conveniently placed across his knees, Anderson was enjoying the shade of +a wide spread oak tree in the tidy yard. His costume consisted of a +battered old black felt hat, a dingy white shirt, dark gray pants, and +scuffed black shoes. Asked if he remembered the days when the North was +fighting the South for his freedom, Anderson replied: "'Member fightin'! +Why, Lady! Dey ain't never stopped fightin' yit. Folks has been +a-fightin' ever since I come in dis world, and dey will be fightin' long +atter I is gone.</p> + +<p>"I dis'members what was de name of de town whar I was borned, but it was +in Hall County. Lydia and Earl Strickland was my Ma and Pa. All of deir +chillun is daid now 'cept me and Bob. De others was: Abe, Bill, Jim, and +Sarah. Dere ain't much to tell 'bout what us done dem days, 'cept play +and eat. Dem what was big 'nough had to wuk.</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Miss! It's lak dis: I is a old Nigger, and I done been here for +many years, but dese last few years I sho' has been a sick man, and now +I can't git things straight in my mind lak dey was den. I knows us lived +in log houses what had great big chimblies made out of sticks and mud. +Why, dem fireplaces was 'bout eight feet wide, and you could put a whole +stick of cord wood on de fire. Us slept on high-up old timey beds what +had big posties and instead of springs, dey had stout cords wove 'cross +to hold de mattress. De last time I slept on one of dem sort of beds was +when I was a little boy, sleepin' wid my Ma. Pa and Ma was both field +hands. Ma's mammy was de onliest one of my grandmas I ever seed. Her +name was Ca'line and she lived wid Grandpa Abe on another plantation. +Ma's sister, my aunt Ca'line was cook up at our Old Marster's big house.</p> + +<p>"Money? Yessum! Dey gimme a little money now and den for totin' water to +de field, sweepin' de yards, and a million other things dey used to make +me do. De most dey ever gimme was 50 cents. I never spent none of it, +but jus' turned it over to my Ma. Chillun warn't 'lowed to spend money +den lak dey does now, 'cause dey had evvything dey needed anyhow. Old +Marster, he give us plenty somepin t'eat, such as it was. Dere was lots +of cornbread, a little meat now and den, collards, whip-poor-will peas +and dem unknown peas what was most big as a dime, and black 'lasses—dat +was lallyho.</p> + +<p>"Us cotch lots of 'possums, but mighty few of 'em us Niggers ever got a +chance to eat, or rabbits neither. Dey made Niggers go out and hunt 'em +and de white folks et 'em. Our mouths would water for some of dat +'possum but it warn't often dey let us have none. I don't know nothin' +'bout no fishin' bein' done dem days. Yessum, slaves had deir own +gyardens, and dey better wuk 'em good if dey wanted any gyarden sass to +eat. Cookin' was done in dem big open fireplaces, mostly in pots and +thick iron skillets what had lids on 'em.</p> + +<p>"Boys wore long blue striped shirts in summer and nothin' else a t'all. +Dem shirts was made jus' lak mother hubbards. Us wore de same thing in +winter only dem shirts was made new for winter. By summer dey had done +wore thin. When de weather got too cold, Marster give us old coats, what +grown folks had done most wore out, and us warn't none too warm den wid +de wind a-sailin' under our little old shirt tails. Our shoes was rough +old brogans what was hard as rocks, and us had to put rags inside 'em to +keep 'em from rubbin' de skin off our foots. Us didn't know what socks +and stockin's was dem.</p> + +<p>"Marse Earl Strickland owned us. Miss Sarah was his old 'oman and dey +was sho' mighty good to deir slaves. White folks was heap better folks +den dan dey is now anyhow. Now-a-days dey will knock you up right now, +and won't be long 'bout it. I can't git up no ricollections 'bout 'em +havin' no chillun a t'all. Seems lak I know for sho' dey didn't have +none. Dey never had no fine house neither; jus' a plain common house wid +a chimbly at both ends.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! Marster never had no overseer; no car'iage driver neither; +didn't even have no car'iage yit. He did have a surrey what he hitched +mules to and driv for hisself. Warn't no hoss on dat plantation, nothin' +'cept mules.</p> + +<p>"How big was dat plantation? Good Granny! it was so big I never did git +all de way over it, and dere must a been 15 or 20 slaves. Old Marster +got us up 'bout sunrise and fetched us in at sundown. He was all time +knockin' on his Niggers 'bout somepin. He 'lowed dey didn't do dis, or +dat, or somepin else right—he allus had to have some 'scuse to knock +'em 'round."</p> + +<p>A little Negro boy, possibly five years old, came up to Anderson with a +peach in his hand and said: "Look, Uncle Anderson, C.T. done gimme dis +peach what he stole off dat dar wagon." The old man reached out his +hand. "Boy, you gimme dat peach," he commanded. "You knows I lak +peaches. Give it to me, I say. I do declar', nigger chillun jus' got to +steal anyhow. Run git yourself 'nother peach off dat wagon, but don't +you let dat man see you git it. Put dat peach under your shirt 'til you +gits in dis yard, and if you leave dis yard 'gain I'll buss your haid +wide open. Does you hear me, Boy?</p> + +<p>"What was dat you was a-axin' 'bout jails, Miss? Yessum, us had 'em. +Niggers would git too rowdy-lak, drinkin' liquor and fightin', and dat +was when de white folks slapped 'em in de gyardhouse, widout a bite to +eat. Gyardhouses is called jails dese days. I'se lak my Ma. I'se a +fighter. Ma would jump on anybody what looked at her twice. De onliest +time I ever got in de gyardhouse was a long time atter de end of de big +War. A man owed me some money, and when I axed him for it, he got mad +and knocked me down. I got right up and knocked him out, and right den +and dar I was sont to de gyardhouse.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, Miss! Slave folks warn't 'lowed no time for to larn readin' +and writin'. Deir time was all tuk up in de field at wuk. Slaves went to +de white folks' church, but one thing sho' dey couldn't read de Bible +for deirselfs and couldn't write none. Jus' to tell de truth, I didn't +take in what dey sung at church, but I ain't forgot dem baptizin's. I'se +been to so many of 'em. Evvybody went in dem days. Dere warn't no place +in de church houses for to be ducked dem days, so de white folks had a +pool dug out by de branch for de baptizin's, and white folks and slaves +was ducked in de same pool of water. White folks went in fust and den de +Niggers. Evvybody what come dar sung a song 'bout 'My Sins has all been +Washed Away, and I is White as Snow.'</p> + +<p>"Slave fun'rels was mournful sights, for sho'. Dem home-made coffins was +made out of pine planks, and dey warn't painted or lined or nothin'. And +slave coffins warn't no diffunt from de ones de white folks used. Our +Marster sot aside a spot in his own buryin' grounds for de slaves' +graveyard. When dey was a-buryin' folks dey sung a song what went +somepin lak dis: 'Oh, Lord! Us takes 'em to de Graveyard, Never to fetch +'em Back.'</p> + +<p>"If slaves did run off to de North, I never heared nothin' 'bout it. Oh, +Lord! I jus' can't talk 'bout dem patterollers, for it looked lak all +de white folks tried to jine up wid 'em. How dey did beat up us pore +Niggers! Us had to git a pass for dis and a pass for dat, and dere jus' +warn't nothin' us could do widout dem patterollers a-beatin' us up. Dey +beat you wid a cowhide lash what cut a gash in your back evvy time it +struck you. Yessum, white folks and Niggers was all time quar'ellin' and +fightin'.</p> + +<p>"When slaves got in from de fields dey et deir somepin t'eat and went to +bed. Dey didn't have to wuk on Saddays atter dinnertime. When our old +Marster turned us loose, he turned us loose; and when he wuked us, us +sho' was wuked. De young folks had deir big times on Sadday nights. Dey +danced and frolicked 'round sort of lak dey does now. Evvybody went to +de meetin' house on Sunday, and dere's whar Niggers had a good time +a-courtin'.</p> + +<p>"Christmas was de time when old Marster let us do pretty much as us +pleased. Us had all kinds of good things t'eat, and atter us drunk a lot +of liquor it warn't long 'fore dere was a Nigger fight goin' on. Yessum, +us had cornshuckin's, cotton pickin's, quiltin's, log rollin's, and all +sich as dat. Wid plenty t'eat and good liquor to drink on hand, Niggers +would shuck corn or pick cotton all night. It was de big eats and lots +of liquor dat made slaves lak dem things.</p> + +<p>"Little slave boys played wid sun-baked marbles, made of mud, and old +rag balls, what was sho' a heap diffunt from what chilluns thinks dey +has got to have dese days 'fore dey kin have a good time.</p> + +<p>"Marster had mighty good keer tuk of his slaves when dey got sick. Dere +warn't many doctors dem days. Dey jus' used home-made medicines, mostly +teas made out of yarbs (herbs). I jus' can't git up no ricollection of +what yarbs dey did put in dem teas. I does 'member dat chillun had to +live wid bags of assfiddy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off +ailments. Ma give me and Bob, each one, a block of dat assfiddy for good +luck. I throwed my block 'way a few years ago, and I ain't had nothin' +but bad luck ever since. Dat's why I can't git up de things you wants to +know 'bout. My mind jus' don't wuk right no more.</p> + +<p>"Dem yankees was on de go all de time. One of 'em come to old Marster's +house and axed one of my uncles to go off wid him. Uncle was old and +skeered and he thought de yankees might kill him or somepin lak dat. +When de War was done over, old Marster told us 'bout how things was. He +said us was free and would have to do de best us could for ourselfs. Dem +was happy days for Niggers. Dey sho' didn't take no more foolishment off +of white folks atter dat, and dey don't pay 'em no mind now. Niggers got +so bad atter dey got deir freedom dat de Ku Kluxers come 'round and made +'em be'have deirselfs. One of dem Kluxers come to our house and set down +and talked to us 'bout how us ought to act, and how us was goin' to have +to do, if us 'spected to live and do well. Us allus thought it was our +own old Marster, all dressed up in dem white robes wid his face kivvered +up, and a-talkin' in a strange, put-on lak, voice. None of Marster's +Niggers never left him for 'bout two or three years. Dere warn't no way +for Niggers to buy no land 'til atter dey could make and save up some +money. Marster jus' paid up his Niggers once a year, at de end of crap +time. It warn't long atter de War was over 'fore dere was some few +schools for Niggers scattered 'round 'bout.</p> + +<p>"When did I git married? Lordy, Miss! Such things de giverment do want +to know 'bout pore old Niggers! It warn't 'til ten years atter us was +freed, dat me and Martha Freeman got married up together. Dat was one +sho' 'nough fine weddin' what Miss Sallie Morton and our other white +friends give us. Dey give us evvything us had at dat big old feast. Dere +was three tables full, one for de white folks, and two for de Niggers, +and dem tables was jus' loaded down wid good things. Willie and Ida was +de onliest chillun me and Martha had, and dey never lived to git grown. +Martha died out and den I married up wid Mamie White. Us didn't have no +chillun and Mamie's daid now. Dey's all daid 'cept me.</p> + +<p>"I thinks it was a good thing Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis did set us free, +and I sho hopes de giverment won't never fetch slavery back no more.</p> + +<p>"I never will forgit de day I jined up wid Morton's Baptist Church. I +had done helped my Pa build it from a brush arbor to a sho' 'nough +church house. De reason I jined up was 'cause de Marster had done +changed me from nature to Grace. I thinks evvybody ought to jine up in +de church 'cause it's de Lord's will.</p> + +<p>"Miss, I done told you all I knows and I'se a sick man, so go 'long wid +you and let me take my rest."</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: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1, by Work Projects Administration + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: GEORGIA *** + +***** This file should be named 13602-h.htm or 13602-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/6/0/13602/ + +Produced by Jeannie Howse, Andrea Ball and PG Distributed +Proofreaders. 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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: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1 + +Author: Work Projects Administration + +Release Date: October 5, 2004 [EBook #13602] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: GEORGIA *** + + + + +Produced by Jeannie Howse, 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 IV + +GEORGIA NARRATIVES + +PART 1 + + + + +Prepared by +the Federal Writers' Project of +the Works Progress Administration +for the State of Georgia + + +INFORMANTS + +Adams, Rachel +Allen, Uncle Wash [TR: originally listed as Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)] +Allen, Rev. W.B. [TR: different informant] +Atkinson, Jack +Austin, Hannah +Avery, Celestia [TR: also appended is interview with Emmaline Heard + that is repeated in Part 2 of the Georgia Narratives] +Baker, Georgia +Battle, Alice +Battle, Jasper +Binns, Arrie +Bland, Henry +Body, Rias +Bolton, James +Bostwick, Alec +Boudry, Nancy +Bradley, Alice, and Colquitt, Kizzie [TR: interviews filed together + though not connected] +Briscoe, Della +Brooks, George +Brown, Easter +Brown, Julia (Aunt Sally) +Bunch, Julia +Butler, Marshal +Byrd, Sarah + +Calloway, Mariah +Castle, Susan +Claibourn, Ellen +Clay, Berry +Cody, Pierce +Cofer, Willis +Colbert, Mary +Cole, John +Cole, Julia +Colquitt, Martha + +Davis, Minnie +Davis, Mose +Derricotte, Ike +Dillard, Benny + +Eason, George +Elder, Callie +Everette, Martha + +Favor, Lewis [TR: also referred to as Favors] +Ferguson, Mary +Fryer, Carrie Nancy +Furr, Anderson + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Marshal Butler [TR: not listed in original index] +John Cole + + +[TR: The interview headers presented here contain all information +included in the original, but may have been rearranged for readability. +Also, some ages and addresses have been drawn from blocks of information +on subsequent interview pages. Names in brackets were drawn from text of +interviews.] + +[TR: Some interviews were date-stamped; these dates have been added +to interview headers in brackets. Where part of date could not be +determined -- has been substituted. These dates do not appear to +represent actual interview dates, rather dates completed interviews +were received or perhaps transcription dates.] + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +RACHEL ADAMS, Age 78 +300 Odd Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + + +Rachel Adams' two-room, frame house is perched on the side of a steep +hill where peach trees and bamboo form dense shade. Stalks of corn at +the rear of the dwelling reach almost to the roof ridge and a portion of +the front yard is enclosed for a chicken yard. Stepping gingerly around +the amazing number of nondescript articles scattered about the small +veranda, the visitor rapped several times on the front door, but +received no response. A neighbor said the old woman might be found at +her son's store, but she was finally located at the home of a daughter. + +Rachel came to the front door with a sandwich of hoecake and cheese in +one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Dis here's Rachel Adams," +she declared. "Have a seat on de porch." Rachel is tall, thin, very +black, and wears glasses. Her faded pink outing wrapper was partly +covered by an apron made of a heavy meal sack. Tennis shoes, worn +without hose, and a man's black hat completed her outfit. + +Rachel began her story by saying: "Miss, dats been sich a long time back +dat I has most forgot how things went. Anyhow I was borned in Putman +County 'bout two miles from Eatonton, Georgia. My Ma and Pa was 'Melia +and Iaaac Little and, far as I knows, dey was borned and bred in dat +same county. Pa, he was sold away from Ma when I was still a baby. Ma's +job was to weave all de cloth for de white folks. I have wore many a +dress made out of de homespun what she wove. Dere was 17 of us chillun, +and I can't 'member de names of but two of 'em now--dey was John and +Sarah. John was Ma's onliest son; all de rest of de other 16 of us was +gals. + +"Us lived in mud-daubed log cabins what had old stack chimblies made out +of sticks and mud. Our old home-made beds didn't have no slats or metal +springs neither. Dey used stout cords for springs. De cloth what dey +made the ticks of dem old hay mattresses and pillows out of was so +coarse dat it scratched us little chillun most to death, it seemed lak +to us dem days. I kin still feel dem old hay mattresses under me now. +Evvy time I moved at night it sounded lak de wind blowin' through dem +peach trees and bamboos 'round de front of de house whar I lives now. + +"Grandma Anna was 115 years old when she died. She had done wore herself +out in slavery time. Grandpa, he was sold off somewhar. Both of 'em was +field hands. + +"Potlicker and cornbread was fed to us chillun, out of big old wooden +bowls. Two or three chillun et out of de same bowl. Grown folks had +meat, greens, syrup, cornbread, 'taters and de lak. 'Possums! I should +say so. Dey cotch plenty of 'em and atter dey was kilt ma would scald +'em and rub 'em in hot ashes and dat clean't 'em jus' as pretty and +white. OO-o-o but dey was good. Lord, Yessum! Dey used to go fishin' and +rabbit huntin' too. Us jus' fotched in game galore den, for it was de +style dem days. Dere warn't no market meat in slavery days. Seemed lak +to me in dem days dat ash-roasted 'taters and groundpeas was de best +somepin t'eat what anybody could want. 'Course dey had a gyarden, and it +had somepin of jus' about evvything what us knowed anything 'bout in de +way of gyarden sass growin' in it. All de cookin' was done in dem big +old open fireplaces what was fixed up special for de pots and ovens. +Ashcake was most as good as 'taters cooked in de ashes, but not quite. + +"Summertime, us jus' wore homespun dresses made lak de slips dey use for +underwear now. De coats what us wore over our wool dresses in winter was +knowed as 'sacques' den, 'cause dey was so loose fittin'. Dey was heavy +and had wool in 'em too. Marse Lewis, he had a plenty of sheep, 'cause +dey was bound to have lots of warm winter clothes, and den too, dey +lakked mutton to eat. Oh! dem old brogan shoes was coarse and rough. +When Marse Lewis had a cow kilt dey put de hide in de tannin' vat. When +de hides was ready, Uncle Ben made up de shoes, and sometimes dey let +Uncle Jasper holp him if dere was many to be made all at one time. Us +wore de same sort of clothes on Sunday as evvyday, only dey had to be +clean and fresh when dey was put on Sunday mornin'. + +"Marse Lewis Little and his wife, Miss Sallie, owned us, and Old Miss, +she died long 'fore de surrender. Marse Lewis, he was right good to all +his slaves; but dat overseer, he would beat us down in a minute if us +didn't do to suit him. When dey give slaves tasks to do and dey warn't +done in a certain time, dat old overseer would whup 'em 'bout dat. +Marster never had to take none of his Niggers to court or put 'em in +jails neither; him and de overseer sot 'em right. Long as Miss Sallie +lived de carriage driver driv her and Marse Lewis around lots, but atter +she died dere warn't so much use of de carriage. He jus' driv for Marse +Lewis and piddled 'round de yard den. + +"Some slaves larnt to read and write. If dey went to meetin' dey had to +go wid deir white folks 'cause dey didn't have no sep'rate churches for +de Niggers 'til atter de war. On our Marster's place, slaves didn't go +off to meetin' a t'all. Dey jus' went 'round to one another's houses and +sung songs. Some of 'em read de Bible by heart. Once I heared a man +preach what didn't know how to read one word in de Bible, and he didn't +even have no Bible yit. + +"De fust baptizin' I ever seed was atter I was nigh 'bout grown. If a +slave from our place ever jined up wid a church 'fore de war was over, I +never heared tell nothin' 'bout it. + +"Lordy, Miss! I didn't know nothin' 'bout what a funeral was dem days. +If a Nigger died dis mornin', dey sho' didn't waste no time a-puttin' +him right on down in de ground dat same day. Dem coffins never had no +shape to 'em; dey was jus' squar-aidged pine boxes. Now warn't dat +turrible? + +"Slaves never went nowhar widout dem patterollers beatin' 'em up if dey +didn't have no pass. + +"Dere was hunderds of acres in dat dere plantation. Marse Lewis had a +heap of slaves. De overseer, he had a bugle what he blowed to wake up +de slaves. He blowed it long 'fore day so dat dey could eat breakfast +and be out dere in de fields waitin' for de sun to rise so dey could see +how to wuk, and dey stayed out dar and wukked 'til black dark. When a +rainy spell come and de grass got to growin' fast, dey wukked dem slaves +at night, even when de moon warn't shinin'. On dem dark nights one set +of slaves helt lanterns for de others to see how to chop de weeds out of +de cotton and corn. Wuk was sho' tight dem days. Evvy slave had a task +to do atter dey got back to dem cabins at night. Dey each one hed to +spin deir stint same as de 'omans, evvy night. + +"Young and old washed deir clothes Sadday nights. Dey hardly knowed what +Sunday was. Dey didn't have but one day in de Christmas, and de only +diff'unce dey seed dat day was dat dey give 'em some biscuits on +Christmas day. New Year's Day was rail-splittin' day. Dey was told how +many rails was to be cut, and dem Niggers better split dat many or +somebody was gwine to git beat up. + +"I don't 'member much 'bout what us played, 'cept de way us run 'round +in a ring. Us chillun was allus skeered to play in de thicket nigh de +house 'cause Raw Head and Bloody Bones lived der. Dey used to skeer us +out 'bout red 'taters. Dey was fine 'taters, red on de outside and +pretty and white on de inside, but white folks called 'em +'nigger-killers.' Dat was one of deir tricks to keep us from stealin' +dem 'taters. Dere wern't nothin' wrong wid dem 'taters; dey was jus' as +good and healthy as any other 'taters. Aunt Lucy, she was de cook, and +she told me dat slaves was skeered of dem 'nigger-killer' 'taters and +never bothered 'em much den lak dey does de yam patches dese days. I +used to think I seed ha'nts at night, but it allus turned out to be +somebody dat was tryin' to skeer me. + +"'Bout de most fun slaves had was at dem cornshuckin's. De general would +git high on top of de corn pile and whoop and holler down leadin' dat +cornshuckin' song 'til all de corn was done shucked. Den come de big +eats, de likker, and de dancin'. Cotton pickin's was big fun too, and +when dey got through pickin' de cotton dey et and drunk and danced 'til +dey couldn't dance no more. + +"Miss, white folks jus' had to be good to sick slaves, 'cause slaves was +property. For Old Marster to lose a slave, was losin' money. Dere warn't +so many doctors dem days and home-made medicines was all de go. Oil and +turpentine, camphor, assfiddy (asafetida), cherry bark, sweetgum bark; +all dem things was used to make teas for grown folks to take for deir +ailments. Red oak bark tea was give to chillun for stomach mis'ries. + +"All I can ricollect 'bout de comin' of freedom was Old Marster tellin' +us dat us was free as jack-rabbits and dat from den on Niggers would +have to git deir own somepin t'eat. It warn't long atter dat when dem +yankees, wid pretty blue clothes on come through our place and dey stole +most evvything our Marster had. Dey kilt his chickens, hogs, and cows +and tuk his hosses off and sold 'em. Dat didn't look right, did it? + +"My aunt give us a big weddin' feast when I married Tom Adams, and she +sho' did pile up dat table wid heaps of good eatments. My weddin' dress +was blue, trimmed in white. Us had six chillun, nine grandchillun, and +19 great-grandchillun. One of my grandchillun is done been blind since +he was three weeks old. I sont him off to de blind school and now he kin +git around 'most as good as I kin. He has made his home wid me ever +since his Mammy died. + +"'Cordin' to my way of thinkin', Abraham Lincoln done a good thing when +he sot us free. Jeff Davis, he was all right too, 'cause if him and +Lincoln hadn't got to fightin' us would have been slaves to dis very +day. It's mighty good to do jus' as you please, and bread and water is +heaps better dan dat somepin t'eat us had to slave for. + +"I jined up wid de church 'cause I wanted to go to Heben when I dies, +and if folks lives right dey sho' is gwine to have a good restin' place +in de next world. Yes Mam, I sho b'lieves in 'ligion, dat I does. Now, +Miss, if you ain't got nothin' else to ax me, I'se gwine home and give +dat blind boy his somepin t'eat." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slv. #4] + +WASHINGTON ALLEN, EX-SLAVE +Born: December --, 1854 +Place of birth: "Some where" in South Carolina +Present Residence: 1932-Fifth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: December 18, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + +[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the next informant, Rev. W.B. Allen.] + + +The story of "Uncle Wash", as he is familiarly known, is condensed as +follows: + +He was born on the plantation of a Mr. Washington Allen of South +Carolina, for whom he was named. This Mr. Allen had several sons and +daughters, and of these, one son--George Allen--who, during the 1850's +left his South Carolina home and settled near LaFayette, Alabama. About +1858, Mr. Washington Allen died and the next year, when "Wash" was "a +five-year old shaver", the Allen estate in South Carolina was +divided--all except the Allen Negro slaves. These, at the instance and +insistence of Mr. George Allen, were taken to LaFayette, Alabama, to be +sold. All were put on the block and auctioned off, Mr. George Allen +buying every Negro, so that not a single slave family was divided up. + +"Uncle Wash" does not remember what he "fetched at de sale", but he does +distinctly remember that as he stepped up on the block to be sold, the +auctioneer ran his hand "over my head and said: Genilmens, dis boy is +as fine as split silk". Then when Mr. George Allen had bought all the +Allen slaves, it dawned upon them, and they appreciated, why he had +insisted on their being sold in Alabama, rather than in South Carolina. + +Before he was six years of age, little "Wash" lost his mother and, from +then until freedom, he was personally cared for and looked after by Mrs. +George Allen; and the old man wept every time he mentioned her name. + +During the '60's, "Uncle Wash's" father drove a mail and passenger stage +between Cusseta and LaFayette, Alabama--and, finally died and was buried +at LaFayette by the side of his wife. "Uncle Wash" "drifted over" to +Columbus about fifty years ago and is now living with his two surviving +children. + +He has been married four times, all his wives dying "nachul" deaths. He +has also "buried four chillun". + +He was taught to read and write by the sons and daughters of Mr. George +Allen, and attended church where a one-eyed white preacher--named Mr. +Terrentine--preached to the slaves each Sunday "evenin'" (afternoon). +The salary of this preacher was paid by Mr. George Allen. + +When asked what this preacher usually preached about, "Uncle Wash" +answered: "He was a one-eyed man an' couldn' see good; so, he mout +a'made some mistakes, but he sho tole us plenty 'bout hell fire 'n +brimstone." + +"Uncle Wash" is a literal worshipper of the memory of his "old time +white fokes." + + + + +J.R. Jones + +REV. W.B. ALLEN, EX-SLAVE +425-Second Ave +Columbus, Georgia +(June 29, 1937) +[JUL 28 1937] + +[TR: Original index refers to "Allen, Rev. W.B. (Uncle Wash)"; however, +this informant is different from the previous informant, Washington +Allen, interviewed on Dec. 18, 1936. The previous interview for Rev. +Allen that is mentioned below is not found in this volume.] + + +In a second interview, the submission of which was voluntarily sought by +himself, this very interesting specimen of a rapidly vanishing type +expressed a desire to amend his previous interview (of May 10, 1937) to +incorporate the following facts: + +"For a number of years before freedom, my father bought his time from +his master and traveled about over Russell County (Alabama) as a +journeyman blacksmith, doing work for various planters and making good +money--as money went in those days--on the side. At the close of the +war, however, though he had a trunk full of Confederate money, all of +his good money was gone. + +Father could neither read nor write, but had a good head for figures and +was very pious. His life had a wonderful influence upon me, though I was +originally worldly--that is, I drank and cussed, but haven't touched a +drop of spirits in forty years and quit cussing before I entered the +ministry in 1879. + +I learned to pray when very young and kept it up even in my unsaved +days. My white master's folks knew me to be a praying boy, and asked +me--in 1865--when the South was about whipped and General Wilson was +headed our way--to pray to God to hold the Yankees back. Of course, I +didn't have any love for any Yankees--and haven't now, for that +matter--but I told my white folks straight-from-the-shoulder that I +_could not_ pray along those lines. I told them flat-footedly that, +while I loved them and would do any reasonable praying for them, I could +not pray against my conscience: that I not only wanted to be free, but +that I wanted to see all the Negroes freed! + +I then told them that God was using the Yankees to scourge the +slave-holders just as He had, centuries before, used heathens and +outcasts to chastise His chosen people--the Children of Israel." + +(Here it is to be noted that, for a slave boy of between approximately +15 and 17 years of age, remarkable familiarity with the Old Testament +was displayed.) + +The Parson then entered into a mild tirade against Yankees, saying: + +"The only time the Northern people ever helped the Nigger was when they +freed him. They are not friends of the Negro and many a time, from my +pulpit, have I warned Niggers about going North. No, sir, the colored +man doesn't belong in the North---has no business up there, and you may +tell the world that the Reverend W.B. Allen makes no bones about saying +that! He also says that, if it wasn't for the influence of the white +race in the South, the Negro race would revert to savagery within a +year! Why, if they knew for dead certain that there was not a policeman +or officer of the law in Columbus tonight, the good Lord only knows what +they'd do tonight"! + +When the good Parson had delivered himself as quoted, he was asked a +few questions, the answers to which--as shall follow--disclose their +nature. + +"The lowest down Whites of slavery days were the average overseers. A +few were gentlemen, one must admit, but the regular run of them were +trash--commoner than the 'poor white trash'--and, if possible, their +children were worse than their daddies. The name, 'overseer', was a +synonym for 'slave driver', 'cruelty', 'brutishness'. No, sir, a Nigger +may be humble and refuse to talk outside of his race--because he's +afraid to, but you can't fool him about a white man! + +And you couldn't fool him when he was a slave! He knows a white man for +what he is, and he knew him the same way in slavery times." + +Concerning the punishment of slaves, the Reverend said: + +"I never heard or knew of a slave being tried in court for any thing. I +never knew of a slave being guilty of any crime more serious than taking +something or violating plantation rules. And the only punishment that I +ever heard or knew of being administered slaves was whipping. + +I have personally known a few slaves that were beaten to death for one +or more of the following offenses: + + Leaving home without a pass, + + Talking back to--'sassing'--a white person, + + Hitting another Negro, + + Fussing, fighting, and rukkussing in the quarters, + + Lying, + + Loitering on their work, + + Taking things--the Whites called it stealing. + + Plantation rules forbade a slave to: + + Own a firearm, + + Leave home without a pass, + + Sell or buy anything without his master's consent, + + Marry without his owner's consent, + + Have a light in his cabin after a certain hour at night, + + Attend any secret meeting, + + Harbor or [HW: in] any manner assist a runaway slave, + + Abuse a farm animal, + + Mistreat a member of his family, and do + + A great many other things." + +When asked if he had ever heard slaves plot an insurrection, the Parson +answered in the negative. + +When asked if he had personal knowledge of an instance of a slave +offering resistance to corporal punishment, the Reverend shook his head, +but said: + +"Sometimes a stripped Nigger would say some hard things to the white man +with the strap in his hand, though he knew that he (the Negro) would pay +for it dearly, for when a slave showed spirit that way the master or +overseer laid the lash on all the harder." + +When asked how the women took their whippings, he said: + +"They usually screamed and prayed, though a few never made a sound." + +The Parson has had two wives and five children. Both wives and three of +his children are dead. He is also now superannuated, but occasionally +does a "little preaching", having only recently been down to Montezuma, +Georgia, on a special call to deliver a message to the Methodist flock +there. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slave #2] +Henrietta Carlisle + +JACK ATKINSON--EX-SLAVE +Rt. D +Griffin, Georgia +Interviewed August 21, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + + +"Onct a man, twice a child," quoted Jack Atkinson, grey haired darkey, +when being interviewed, "and I done started in my second childhood. I +useter be active as a cat, but I ain't, no mo." + +Jack acquired his surname from his white master, a Mr. Atkinson, who +owned this Negro family prior to the War Between the States. He was a +little boy during the war but remembers "refugeeing" to Griffin from +Butts County, Georgia, with the Atkinsons when Sherman passed by their +home on his march to the sea. + +Jack's father, Tom, the body-servant of Mr. Atkinson, "tuck care of him" +[HW: during] the four years they were away at war. "Many's the time I +done heard my daddy tell 'bout biting his hands he wuz so hongry, and +him and Marster drinking water outer the ruts of the road, they wuz so +thirsty, during the war." + +"Boss Man (Mr. Atkinson), wuz as fine a man as ever broke bread", +according to Jack. + +When asked how he got married he stated that he "broke off a love vine +and throwed it over the fence and if it growed" he would get married. +The vine "just growed and growed" and it wasn't long before he and Lucy +married. + +"A hootin' owl is a sho sign of rain, and a screech owl means a death, +for a fact." + +"A tree frog's holler is a true sign of rain." + +Jack maintains that he has received "a second blessing from the Lord" +and "no conjurer can bother him." + + + + +Whitley +1-25-37 +[HW: Dis #5 +Unedited] +Minnie B. Ross + +EX TOWN SLAVE HANNAH AUSTIN +[HW: about 75-85] +[APR 8 1937] + + +When the writer was presented to Mrs. Hannah Austin she was immediately +impressed with her alert youthful appearance. Mrs. Austin is well +preserved for her age and speaks clearly and with much intelligence. The +interview was a brief but interesting one. This was due partly to the +fact that Mrs. Austin was a small child when The Civil War ended and too +because her family was classed as "town slaves" so classed because of +their superior intelligence. + +Mrs. Austin was a child of ten or twelve years when the war ended. She +doesn't know her exact age but estimated it to be between seventy and +seventy five years. She was born the oldest child of Liza and George +Hall. Their master Mr. Frank Hall was very kind to them and considerate +in his treatment of them. + +Briefly Mrs. Austin gave the following account of slavery as she knew +it. "My family lived in a two room well built house which had many +windows and a nice large porch. Our master, Mr. Hall was a merchant and +operated a clothing store. Because Mr. Hall lived in town he did not +need but a few slaves. My family which included my mother, father, +sister, and myself were his only servants. Originally Mr. Hall did not +own any slaves, however after marrying Mrs. Hall we were given to her by +her father as a part of her inheritance. + +My mother nursed Mrs. Hall from a baby, consequently the Hall family was +very fond of her and often made the statement that they would not part +with her for anything in the world, besides working as the cook for the +Hall family my mother was also a fine seamstress and made clothing for +the master's family and for our family. We were allowed an ample amount +of good clothing which Mr. Hall selected from the stock in his store. My +father worked as a porter in the store and did other jobs around the +house. I did not have to work and spent most of my time playing with the +Hall children. We were considered the better class of slaves and did not +know the meaning of a hard time. + +Other slave owners whipped their slaves severely and often, but I have +never known our master to whip any one of my family. If any one in the +family became ill the family doctor was called in as often as he was +needed. + +We did not have churches of our own but were allowed to attend the white +churches in the afternoon. The White families attended in the forenoon. +We seldom heard a true religious sermon; but were constantly preached +the doctrine of obedience to our masters and mistresses. We were +required to attend church every Sunday. + +Marriages were conducted in much the same manner as they are today. +After the usual courtship a minister was called in by the master and the +marriage ceremony would then take place. In my opinion people of today +are more lax in their attitude toward marriage than they were in those +days. Following the marriage of a slave couple a celebration would take +place often the master and his family would take part in the +celebration. + +I remember hearing my mother and father discuss the war; but was too +young to know just the effect the war would have on the slave. One day I +remember Mr. Hall coming to my mother telling her we were free. His +exact words were quote--"Liza you don't belong to me any longer you +belong to yourself. If you are hired now I will have to pay you. I do +not want you to leave as you have a home here as long as you live." I +watched my mother to see the effect his words would have on her and I +saw her eyes fill with tears. Mr. Hall's eyes filled with tears also. + +Soon after this incident a Yankee Army appeared in our village one day. +They practically destroyed Mr. Hall's store by throwing all clothes and +other merchandise into the streets. Seeing my sister and I they turned +to us saying, "Little Negroes you are free there are no more masters and +mistresses, here help yourselves to these clothes take them home with +you." Not knowing any better we carried stockings, socks, dresses, +underwear and many other pieces home. After this they opened the smoke +house door and told us to go in and take all of the meat we wanted. + +On another occasion the mistress called me asking that I come in the +yard to play with the children". Here Mrs. Austin began to laugh and +remarked "I did not go but politely told her I was free and didn't +belong to any one but my mama and papa. As I spoke these words my +mistress began to cry. + +My mother and father continued to live with the Halls even after freedom +and until their deaths. Although not impoverished most of the Hall's +fortune was wiped out with the war". + +Mrs. Austin married at the age of 16 years; and was the mother of four +children, all of whom are dead. She was very ambitious and was +determined to get an education if such was possible. After the war +Northern white people came south and set up schools for the education of +Negroes. She remembers the organization of the old Storrs School from +which one of the present Negroes Colleges originated. + +Mrs. Austin proudly spoke of her old blue back speller, which she still +possesses; and of the days when she attended Storrs School. + +As the writer made ready to depart Mrs. Austin smilingly informed her +that she had told her all that she knew about slavery; and every word +spoken was the truth. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex Slave #1 +Ross] + +"A FEW FACTS OF SLAVERY" +As Told by CELESTIA AVERY--EX-SLAVE +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Mrs. Celestia Avery is a small mulatto woman about 5 ft. in height. She +has a remarkably clear memory in view of the fact that she is about 75 +years of age. Before the interview began she reminded the writer that +the facts to be related were either told to her by her grandmother, +Sylvia Heard, or were facts which she remembered herself. + +Mrs. Avery was born 75 years ago in Troupe County, LaGrange, Ga. the +eighth oldest child of Lenora and Silas Heard. There were 10 other +children beside herself. She and her family were owned by Mr. & Mrs. +Peter Heard. In those days the slaves carried the surname of their +master; this accounted for all slaves having the same name whether they +were kin or not. + +The owner Mr. Heard had a plantation of about 500 acres and was +considered wealthy by all who knew him. Mrs. Avery was unable to give +the exact number of slaves on the plantation, but knew he owned a large +number. Cotton, corn, peas, potatoes, (etc.) were the main crops raised. + +The homes provided for the slaves were two room log cabins which had one +door and one window. These homes were not built in a group together but +were more or less scattered over the plantation. Slave homes were very +simple and only contained a home made table, chair and bed which were +made of the same type of wood and could easily be cleaned by scouring +with sand every Saturday. The beds were bottomed with rope which was run +backward and forward from one rail to the other. On this framework was +placed a mattress of wheat straw. Each spring the mattresses were +emptied and refilled with fresh wheat straw. + +Slaves were required to prepare their own meals three times a day. This +was done in a big open fire place which was filled with hot coals. The +master did not give them much of a variety of food, but allowed each +family to raise their own vegetables. Each family was given a hand out +of bacon and meal on Saturdays and through the week corn ash cakes and +meat; which had been broiled on the hot coals was the usual diet found +in each home. The diet did not vary even at Christmas only a little +fruit was added. + +Each family was provided with a loom and in Mrs. Avery's family, her +grandmother, Sylvia Heard, did most of the carding and spinning of the +thread into cloth. The most common cloth for women clothes was homespun, +and calico. This same cloth was dyed and used to make men shirts and +pants. Dye was prepared by taking a berry known as the shumake berry and +boiling them with walnut peelings. Spring and fall were the seasons for +masters to give shoes and clothing to their slaves. Both men and women +wore brogan shoes, the only difference being the piece in the side of +the womens. + +One woman was required to do the work around the house there was also +one slave man required to work around the house doing odd jobs. Other +than these two every one else was required to do the heavy work in the +fields. Work began at "sun up" and lasted until "sun down". In the +middle of the day the big bell was rung to summon the workers from the +field, for their mid-day lunch. After work hours slaves were then free +to do work around their own cabins, such as sewing, cooking (etc.) + +"Once a week Mr. Heard allowed his slaves to have a frolic and folks +would get broke down from so much dancing" Mrs. Avery remarked. The +music was furnished with fiddles. When asked how the slaves came to own +fiddles she replied, "They bought them with money they earned selling +chickens." At night slaves would steal off from the Heard plantation, go +to LaGrange, Ga. and sell chickens which they had raised. Of course the +masters always required half of every thing raised by each slave and it +was not permissible for any slave to sell anything. Another form of +entertainment was the quilting party. Every one would go together to +different person's home on each separate night of the week and finish +that person's quilts. Each night this was repeated until every one had a +sufficient amount of covering for the winter. Any slave from another +plantation, desiring to attend these frolics, could do so after securing +a pass from their master. + +Mrs. Avery related the occasion when her Uncle William was caught off +the Heard plantation without a pass, and was whipped almost to death by +the "Pader Rollers." He stole off to the depths of the woods here he +built a cave large enough to live in. A few nights later he came back to +the plantation unobserved and carried his wife and two children back to +this cave where they lived until after freedom. When found years later +his wife had given birth to two children. No one was ever able to find +his hiding place and if he saw any one in the woods he would run like a +lion. + +Mr. Heard was a very mean master and was not liked by any one of his +slaves. Secretly each one hated him. He whipped unmercifully and in most +cases unnecessarily. However, he sometimes found it hard to subdue some +slaves who happened to have very high tempers. In the event this was the +case he would set a pack of hounds on him. Mrs. Avery related to the +writer the story told to her of Mr. Heard's cruelty by her grandmother. +The facts were as follows: "Every morning my grandmother would pray, and +old man Heard despised to hear any one pray saying they were only doing +so that they might become free niggers. Just as sure as the sun would +rise, she would get a whipping; but this did not stop her prayers every +morning before day. This particular time grandmother Sylvia was in +"family way" and that morning she began to pray as usual. The master +heard her and became so angry he came to her cabin seized and pulled her +clothes from her body and tied her to a young sapling. He whipped her so +brutally that her body was raw all over. When darkness fell her husband +cut her down from the tree, during the day he was afraid to go near her. +Rather than go back to the cabin she crawled on her knees to the woods +and her husband brought grease for her to grease her raw body. For two +weeks the master hunted but could not find her; however, when he finally +did, she had given birth to twins. The only thing that saved her was the +fact that she was a mid-wife and always carried a small pin knife which +she used to cut the navel cord of the babies. After doing this she tore +her petticoat into two pieces and wrapped each baby. Grandmother Sylvia +lived to get 115 years old. + +Not only was Mr. Henderson cruel but it seemed that every one he hired +in the capacity of overseer was just as cruel. For instance, Mrs. +Henderson's grandmother Sylvia, was told to take her clothes off when +she reached the end of a row. She was to be whipped because she had not +completed the required amount of hoeing for the day. Grandmother +continued hoeing until she came to a fence; as the overseer reached out +to grab her she snatched a fence railing and broke it across his arms. +On another occasion grandmother Sylvia ran all the way to town to tell +the master that an overseer was beating her husband to death. The master +immediately jumped on his horse and started for home; and reaching the +plantation he ordered the overseer to stop whipping the old man. Mrs. +Avery received one whipping, with a hair brush, for disobedience; this +was given to her by the mistress. + +Slaves were given separate churches, but the minister, who conducted the +services, was white. Very seldom did the text vary from the usual one of +obedience to the master and mistress, and the necessity for good +behavior. Every one was required to attend church, however, the only +self expression they could indulge in without conflict with the master +was that of singing. Any one heard praying was given a good whipping; +for most masters thought their prayers no good since freedom was the +uppermost thought in every one's head. + +On the Heard plantation as on a number of others, marriages were made by +the masters of the parties concerned. Marriage licenses were unheard of. +If both masters mutually consented, the marriage ceremony was considered +over with. After that the husband was given a pass to visit his wife +once a week. In the event children were born the naming of them was left +entirely to the master. Parents were not allowed to name them. + +Health of slaves was very important to every slave owner for loss of +life meant loss of money to them. Consequently they would call in their +family doctor, if a slave became seriously ill. In minor cases of +illness home remedies were used. "In fact," Mrs. Avery smilingly +remarked, "We used every thing for medicine that grew in the ground." +One particular home remedy was known as "Cow foot oil" which was made by +boiling cow's feet in water. Other medicines used were hoarhound tea, +catnip tea, and castor oil. Very often medicines and doctors failed to +save life; and whenever a slave died he was buried the same day. Mrs. +Avery remarked, "If he died before dinner the funeral and burial usually +took place immediately after dinner." + +Although a very young child, Mrs. Avery remembers the frantic attempt +slave owners made to hide their money when the war broke out. The +following is a story related concerning the Heard family. "Mr. Heard, +our master, went to the swamp, dug a hole, and hid his money, then he +and his wife left for town on their horses. My oldest brother, Percy, +saw their hiding place; and when the Yanks came looking for the money, +he carried them straight to the swamps and showed than where the money +was hidden." Although the Yeard [TR: typo "Heard"] farm was in the +country the highway was very near and Mrs. Avery told of the long army +of soldiers marching to La Grange singing the following song: "Rally +around the flag boys, rally around the flag, joy, joy, for freedom." +When the war ended Mr. Heard visited every slave home and broke the news +to each family that they were free people and if they so desired could +remain on his plantation. Mrs. Avery's family moved away, in fact most +slave families did, for old man Heard had been such a cruel master +everyone was anxious to get away from him. However, one year later he +sold his plantation to Mr George Traylor and some of the families moved +back, Mrs. Avery's family included. + +Mrs. Avery married at the age of 16; and was the mother of 14 children, +three of whom are still living. Although she has had quite a bit of +illness during her life, at present she is quite well and active in +spite of her old age. She assured the writer that the story of slavery, +which she had given her, was a true one and sincerely hoped it would do +some good in this world. + + + + +FOLKLORE (Negro) +Minnie B. Ross + +[MRS. CELESTIA AVERY] + + +In a small house at 173 Phoenix Alley, N.E. lives a little old woman +about 5 ft. 2 in. in height, who is an ex-slave. She greeted the writer +with a bright smile and bade her enter and have a seat by the small fire +in the poorly lighted room. The writer vividly recalled the interview +she gave on slavery previously and wondered if any facts concerning +superstitions, conjure, signs, etc. could be obtained from her. After a +short conversation pertaining to everyday occurrences, the subject of +superstition was broached to Mrs. Avery. The idea amused her and she +gave the writer the following facts: As far as possible the stories are +given in her exact words. The interview required two days, November 30 +and December 2, 1936. + +"When you see a dog lay on his stomach and slide it is a true sign of +death. This is sho true cause it happened to me. Years ago when I lived +on Pine Street I was sitting on my steps playing with my nine-months old +baby. A friend uv mine came by and sat down; and as we set there a dog +that followed her began to slide on his stomach. It scared me; and I +said to her, did you see that dog? Yes, I sho did. That night my baby +died and it wuzn't sick at all that day. That's the truth and a sho sign +of death. Anudder sign of death is ter dream of a new-born baby. One +night not so long ago I dreamt about a new-born baby and you know I went +ter the door and called Miss Mary next door and told her I dreamed about +a new-born baby, and she said, Oh! that's a sho sign of death. The same +week that gal's baby over there died. It didn't surprise me when I heard +it cause I knowed somebody round here wuz go die." She continued: + +"Listen, child! If ebber you clean your bed, don't you never sweep off +your springs with a broom. Always wipe 'em with a rag, or use a brush. +Jest as sho as you do you see or experience death around you. I took my +bed down and swept off my springs, and I jest happened to tell old Mrs. +Smith; and she jumped up and said, 'Child, you ought not done that +cause it's a sign of death.' Sho nuff the same night I lost another +child that wuz eight years old. The child had heart trouble, I think." + +Mrs. Avery believes in luck to a certain extent. The following are +examples of how you may obtain luck: + +"I believe you can change your luck by throwing a teaspoonful of sulphur +in the fire at zackly 12 o'clock in the day. I know last week I was +sitting here without a bit of fire, but I wuzn't thinking bout doing +that till a 'oman came by and told me ter scrape up a stick fire and put +a spoonful of sulphur on it; and sho nuff in a hour's time a coal man +came by and gave me a tub uv coal. Long time ago I used ter work fer +some white women and every day at 12 o'clock I wuz told ter put a +teaspoonful of sulphur in the fire." + +"Another thing, I sho ain't going ter let a 'oman come in my house on +Monday morning unless a man done come in there fust. No, surree, if it +seem lak one ain't coming soon, I'll call one of the boy chilluns, jest +so it is a male. The reason fer this is cause women is bad luck." + +The following are a few of the luck charms as described by Mrs. Avery: + +"Black cat bone is taken from a cat. First, the cat is killed and +boiled, after which the meat is scraped from the bones. The bones are +then taken to the creek and thrown in. The bone that goes up stream is +the lucky bone and is the one that should be kept." "There is a boy in +this neighborhood that sells liquor and I know they done locked him up +ten or twelve times but he always git out. They say he carries a black +cat bone," related Mrs. Avery. + +"The Devil's shoe string looks jest like a fern with a lot of roots. My +mother used to grow them in the corner of our garden. They are lucky. + +"Majres (?) are always carried tied in the corner of a handkerchief. I +don't know how they make 'em. + +"I bought a lucky stick from a man onct. It looked jest lak a candle, +only it wuz small; but he did have some sticks as large as candles and +he called them lucky sticks, too, but you had to burn them all night in +your room. He also had some that looked jest lak buttons, small and +round." + +The following are two stories of conjure told by Mrs. Avery: + +"I knowed a man onct long ago and he stayed sick all der time. He had +the headache from morning till night. One day he went to a old man that +wuz called a conjurer; this old man told him that somebody had stole the +sweat-band out of his cap and less he got it back, something terrible +would happen. They say this man had been going with a 'oman and she had +stole his sweat-band. Well, he never did get it, so he died. + +"I had a cousin named Alec Heard, and he had a wife named Anna Heard. +Anna stayed sick all der time almost; fer two years she complained. One +day a old conjurer came to der house and told Alec that Anna wuz +poisoned, but if he would give him $5.00 he would come back Sunday +morning and find the conjure. Alec wuz wise, so he bored a hole in the +kitchen floor so that he could jest peep through there to der back +steps. Sho nuff Sunday morning the nigger come back and as Alec watched +him he dug down in the gound a piece, then he took a ground puppy, threw +it in the hole and covered it up. All right, he started digging again +and all at onct he jumped up and cried: 'Here 'tis! I got it.' 'Got +what?' Alec said, running to the door with a piece of board. 'I got the +ground puppy dat wuz buried fer her.' Alec wuz so mad he jumped on that +man and beat him most to death. They say he did that all the time and +kept a lot of ground puppies fer that purpose." Continuing, she +explained that a ground puppy was a worm with two small horns. They are +dug up out of the ground, and there is a belief that you will die if one +barks at you. + +Mrs. Avery related two ways in which you can keep from being conjured by +anyone. + +"One thing I do every morning is ter sprinkle chamber-lye [HW: (urine)] +with salt and then throw it all around my door. They sho can't fix you +if you do this. Anudder thing, if you wear a silver dime around your +leg they can't fix you. The 'oman live next door says she done wore two +silver dimes around her leg for 18 years." + +Next is a story of the Jack O'Lantern. + +"Onct when I wuz a little girl a lot of us chillun used to slip off and +take walnuts from a old man. We picked a rainy night so nobody would see +us, but do you know it looked like a thousand Jack ma' Lanterns got in +behind us. They wuz all around us. I never will ferget my brother +telling me ter get out in the path and turn my pocket wrong side out. I +told him I didn't have no pocket but the one in my apron; he said, +'well, turn that one wrong side out.' Sho nuff we did and they scattered +then." + +Closing the interview, Mrs. Avery remarked: "That's bout all I know; but +come back some time and maybe I'll think of something else." + + + + +MRS. EMMALINE HEARD + +[TR: This interview, which was attached to the interview with Mrs. +Celestia Avery, is also included in the second volume of the Georgia +Narratives.] + + +On December 3 and 4, 1936, Mrs. Emmaline Heard was interviewed at her +home, 239 Cain Street. The writer had visited Mrs. Heard previously, and +it was at her own request that another visit was made. This visit was +supposed to be one to obtain information and stories on the practice of +conjure. On two previous occasions Mrs. Heard's stories had proved very +interesting, and I knew as I sat there waiting for her to begin that she +had something very good to tell me. She began: + +"Chile, this story wuz told ter me by my father and I know he sho +wouldn't lie. Every word of it is the trufe; fact, everything I ebber +told you wuz the trufe. Now, my pa had a brother, old Uncle Martin, and +his wife wuz name Julianne. Aunt Julianne used ter have spells and fight +and kick all the time. They had doctor after doctor but none did her any +good. Somebody told Uncle Martin to go ter a old conjurer and let the +doctors go cause they wan't doing nothing fer her anyway. Sho nuff he +got one ter come see her and give her some medicine. This old man said +she had bugs in her head, and after giving her the medicine he started +rubbing her head. While he rubbed her head he said: 'Dar's a bug in her +head; it looks jest like a big black roach. Now, he's coming out of her +head through her ear; whatever you do, don't let him get away cause I +want him. Whatever you do, catch him; he's going ter run, but when he +hits the pillow, grab 'em. I'm go take him and turn it back on the one +who is trying ter send you ter the grave.' Sho nuff that bug drap out +her ear and flew; she hollered, and old Uncle Martin ran in the room, +snatched the bed clothes off but they never did find him. Aunt Julianne +never did get better and soon she died. The conjurer said if they had a +caught the bug she would a lived." + +The next story is a true story. The facts as told by Mrs. Heard were +also witnessed by her; as it deals with the conjuring of one of her +sons. It is related in her exact words as nearly as possible. + +"I got a son named Albert Heard. He is living and well; but chile, there +wuz a time when he wuz almost ter his grave. I wuz living in town then, +and Albert and his wife wuz living in the country with their two +chillun. Well, Albert got down sick and he would go ter doctors, and go +ter doctors, but they didn't do him any good. I wuz worried ter death +cause I had ter run backards and for'ards and it wuz a strain on me. He +wuz suffering with a knot on his right side and he couldn't even fasten +his shoes cause it pained him so, and it wuz so bad he couldn't even +button up his pants. A 'oman teached school out there by the name of +Mrs. Yancy; she's dead now but she lived right here on Randolph Street +years ago. Well, one day when I wuz leaving Albert's house I met her on +the way from her school. 'Good evening, Mrs. Heard,' she says. 'How is +Mr. Albert?' I don't hardly know, I says, cause he don't get no better. +She looked at me kinda funny and said, don't you believe he's hurt?' Yes +mam, I said, I sho do. 'Well,' says she, 'I been wanting to say +something to you concerning this but I didn't know how you would take +it. If I tell you somewhere ter go will you go, and tell them I sent +you?' Yes mam, I will do anything if Albert can get better. 'All right +then', she says. 'Catch the Federal Prison car and get off at Butler +St.' In them days that car came down Forrest Ave. 'When you get to +Butler St.', she says, 'walk up to Clifton St. and go to such and such a +number. Knock on the door and a 'oman by the name of Mrs. Hirshpath will +come ter the door. Fore she let you in she go ask who sent you there; +when you tell 'er, she'll let you in. Now lemme tell you she keeps two +quarts of whisky all the time and you have ter drink a little with her; +sides that she cusses nearly every word she speaks; but don't let that +scare you; she will sho get your son up if it kin be done.' Sho nuff +that old 'oman did jest lak Mrs. Yancy said she would do. She had a +harsh voice and she spoke right snappy. When she let me in she said, sit +down. You lak whisky?' I said, well, I take a little dram sometimes. +'Well, here take some of this', she said. I poured a little bit and +drank it kinda lak I wuz afraid. She cursed and said 'I ain't go conjure +you. Drink it.' She got the cards and told me to cut 'em, so I did. +Looking at the cards, she said: 'You lak ter wait too long; they got him +marching to the cemetery. The poor thing! I'll fix those devils. (A +profane word was used instead of devils). He got a knot on his side, +ain't he?' Yes, Mam, I said. That 'oman told me everything that was +wrong with Albert and zackly how he acted. All at once she said; 'If +them d----d things had hatched in him it would a been too late. If you +do zackly lak I tell you I'll get him up from there.' I sho will, I told +her. 'Well, there's a stable sets east of his house. His house got three +rooms and a path go straight to the stable. I see it there where he +hangs his harness. Yes, I see it all, the devils! Have you got any +money?' Yes, mam, a little, I said. 'All right then,' she said. 'Go to +the drug store and get 5c worth of blue stone; 5c wheat bran; and go ter +a fish market and ask 'em ter give you a little fish brine; then go in +the woods and get some poke-root berries. Now, there's two kinds of +poke-root berries, the red skin and the white skin berry. Put all this +in a pot, mix with it the guts from a green gourd and 9 parts of red +pepper. Make a poultice and put to his side on that knot. Now, listen, +your son will be afraid and think you are trying ter do something ter +him but be gentle and persuade him that its fer his good.' Child, he sho +did act funny when I told him I wanted to treat his side. I had ter tell +him I wuz carrying out doctors orders so he could get well. He reared +and fussed and said he didn't want that mess on him. I told him the +doctor says you do very well till you go ter the horse lot then you go +blind and you can't see. He looked at me. 'Sho nuff, Ma, he said, 'that +sho is the trufe. I have ter always call one of the chillun when I go +there cause I can't see how ter get back ter the house.' Well, that +convinced him and he let me fix the medicine for him. I put him ter bed +and made the poultice, then I put it ter his side. Now this 'oman said +no one wuz ter take it off the next morning but me. I wuz suppose ter +fix three, one each night, and after taking each one off ter bury it lak +dead folks is buried, east and west, and ter make a real grave out of +each one. Well, when I told him not ter move it the next morning, but +let me move it, he got funny again and wanted to know why. Do you know I +had ter play lak I could move it without messing up my bed clothes and +if he moved it he might waste it all. Finally he said he would call me +the next morning. Sho nuff, the next morning he called me, ma! ma! come +take it off. I went in the room and he wuz smiling. I slept all night +long he said, and I feel so much better. I'm so glad, I said, and do you +know he could reach down and fasten up his shoe and it had been a long +time since he could do that. Later that day I slipped out and made my +first grave under the fig bush in the garden. I even put up head boards, +too. That night Albert said, 'Mama, fix another one. I feel so much +better.' I sho will, I said. Thank God you're better; so fer three +nights I fixed poultices and put ter his side and each morning he would +tell me how much better he felt. Then the last morning I wuz fixing +breakfast and he sat in the next room. After while Albert jumped up and +hollered, Ma! Ma!' What is it,' I said. 'Mama, that knot is gone. It +dropped down in my pants.' What! I cried. Where is it? Chile, we looked +but we didn't find anything, but the knot had sho gone. Der 'oman had +told me ter come back when the knot moved and she would tell me what +else ter do. That same day I went ter see her and when I told her she +just shouted, 'I fixed 'em, The devils! Now, says she, do you [TR: +know?] where you can get a few leaves off a yellow peachtree. It must be +a yellow peach tree, though. Yes, mam, I says to her. I have a yellow +peachtree right there in my yard. Well, she says, get a handful of +leaves, then take a knife and scrape the bark up, then make a tea and +give him so it will heal up the poison from that knot in his side, also +mix a few jimson weeds with it. I come home and told him I wanted ter +give him a tea. He got scared and said, what fer, Ma? I had ter tell him +I wuz still carrying out the doctor's orders. Well, he let me give him +the tea and that boy got well. I went back to Mrs. Hirshpath and told +her my son was well and I wanted to pay her. Go on, she said, keep the +dollar and send your chillun ter school. This sho happened ter me and I +know people kin fix you. Yes sir." + +The next story was told to Mrs. Heard by Mrs. Hirshpath, the woman who +cured her son. + +I used to go see that 'oman quite a bit and even sent some of my +friends ter her. One day while I wuz there she told me about this piece +of work she did. + +"There was a young man and his wife and they worked fer some white +folks. They had jest married and wuz trying ter save some money ter buy +a home with. All at onct the young man went blind and it almost run him +and his wife crazy cause they didn't know what in the world ter do. +Well, somebody told him and her about Mrs. Hirshpath, so they went ter +see her. One day, says Mrs. Hirshpath, a big fine carriage drew up in +front of her door and the coachman helped him to her door. She asked him +who sent him and he told her. She only charged 50c for giving advice and +after you wuz cured it wuz up ter you to give her what you wanted to. +Well, this man gave her 50c and she talked ter him. She says, boy, you +go home and don't you put that cap on no more. What cap? he says. That +cap you wears ter clean up the stables with, cause somebody done dressed +that cap fer you, and every time you perspire and it run down ter your +eyes it makes you blind. You jest get that cap and bring it ter me. I'll +fix 'em; they's trying ter make you blind, but I go let you see. The boy +was overjoyed, and sho nuff he went back and brought her that cap, and +it wuzn't long fore he could see good as you and me. He brought that +'oman $50, but she wouldn't take but $25 and give the other $25 back ter +him. + +"What I done told you is the trufe, every word of it; I know some other +things that happened but you come back anudder day fer that." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +GEORGIA BAKER, Age 87 +369 Meigs Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +Dist. Supvr. +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + +August 4, 1938 + + +Georgia's address proved to be the home of her daughter, Ida Baker. The +clean-swept walks of the small yard were brightened by borders of gay +colored zinnias and marigolds in front of the drab looking two-story, +frame house. "Come in," answered Ida, in response to a knock at the +front door. "Yessum, Mammy's here. Go right in dat dere room and you'll +find her." + +Standing by the fireplace of the next room was a thin, very black woman +engaged in lighting her pipe. A green checked gingham apron partially +covered her faded blue frock over which she wore a black shirtwaist +fastened together with "safety first" pins. A white cloth, tied turban +fashion about her head, and gray cotton hose worn with black and white +slippers that were run down at the heels, completed her costume. + +"Good mornin'. Yessum, dis here's Georgia," was her greeting. "Let's go +in dar whar Ida is so us can set down. I don't know what you come for, +but I guess I'll soon find out." + +Georgia was eager to talk but her articulation had been impaired by a +paralytic stroke and at times it was difficult to understand her jumble +of words. After observance of the amenities; comments on the weather, +health and such subjects, she began: + +"Whar was I born? Why I was born on de plantation of a great man. It was +Marse Alec Stephens' plantation 'bout a mile and a half from +Crawfordville, in Taliaferro County. Mary and Grandison Tilly was my Ma +and Pa. Ma was cook up at de big house and she died when I was jus' a +little gal. Pa was a field hand, and he belonged to Marse Britt Tilly. + +"Dere was four of us chillun: me, and Mary, and Frances, and Mack," she +counted on the fingers of one hand. "Marse Alec let Marse Jim Johnson +have Mack for his bodyguard. Frances, she wuked in de field, and Mary +was de baby--she was too little to wuk. Me, I was 14 years old when de +war was over. I swept yards, toted water to de field, and played 'round +de house and yard wid de rest of de chillun. + +"De long, log houses what us lived in was called "shotgun" houses 'cause +dey had three rooms, one behind de other in a row lak de barrel of a +shotgun. All de chillun slept in one end room and de grown folkses slept +in de other end room. De kitchen whar us cooked and et was de middle +room. Beds was made out of pine poles put together wid cords. Dem +wheat-straw mattresses was for grown folkses mostly 'cause nigh all de +chillun slept on pallets. How-some-ever, dere was some few slave chillun +what had beds to sleep on. Pillows! Dem days us never knowed what +pillows was. Gals slept on one side of de room and boys on de other in +de chilluns room. Uncle Jim, he was de bed-maker, and he made up a heap +of little beds lak what dey calls cots now. + +"Becky and Stafford Stephens was my Grandma and Grandpa. Marse Alec +bought 'em in Old Virginny. I don't know what my Grandma done 'cause she +died 'fore I was borned, but I 'members Grandpa Stafford well enough. I +can see him now. He was a old man what slept on a trundle bed in the +kitchen, and all he done was to set by de fire all day wid a switch in +his hand and tend de chillun whilst dere mammies was at wuk. Chillun +minded better dem days dan dey does now. Grandpa Stafford never had to +holler at 'em but one time. Dey knowed dey would git de switch next if +dey didn't behave. + +"Now dere you is axin' 'bout dat somepin' t'eat us had dem days! Ida, +ain't dere a piece of watermelon in de ice box?" Georgia lifted the lid +of a small ice box, got out a piece of melon, and began to smack her +thick lips as she devoured it with an air of ineffable satisfaction. +When she had tilted the rind to swallow the last drop of pink juice, she +indicated that she was fortified and ready to exercise her now well +lubricated throat, by resuming her story: + +"Oh, yessum! Marse Alec, had plenty for his slaves to eat. Dere was +meat, bread, collard greens, snap beans, 'taters, peas, all sorts of +dried fruit, and just lots of milk and butter. Marse Alec had 12 cows +and dat's whar I learned to love milk so good. De same Uncle Jim what +made our beds made our wooden bowls what dey kept filled wid bread and +milk for de chillun all day. You might want to call dat place whar Marse +Alec had our veg'tables raised a gyarden, but it looked more lak a big +field to me, it was so big. You jus' ought to have seed dat dere +fireplace whar dey cooked all us had to eat. It was one sho 'nough big +somepin, all full of pots, skillets, and ovens. Dey warn't never 'lowed +to git full of smut neither. Dey had to be cleant and shined up atter +evvy meal, and dey sho was pretty hangin' dar in dat big old fireplace. + +"George and Mack was de hunters. When dey went huntin' dey brought back +jus' evvything: possums, rabbits, coons, squirrels, birds, and wild +turkeys. Yessum, wild turkeys is some sort of birds I reckon, but when +us talked about birds to eat us meant part'idges. Some folkses calls 'em +quails. De fishes us had in summertime was a sight to see. Us sho et +good dem days. Now us jus' eats what-some-ever us can git. + +"Summertime us jus' wore what us wanted to. Dresses was made wid full +skirts gathered on to tight fittin' waisties. Winter clothes was good +and warm; dresses made of yarn cloth made up jus' lak dem summertime +clothes, and petticoats and draw's made out of osnaburg. Chillun what +was big enough done de spinnin' and Aunt Betsey and Aunt Tinny, dey wove +most evvy night 'til dey rung de bell at 10:00 o'clock for us to go to +bed. Us made bolts and bolts of cloth evvy year. + +"Us went bar'foots in summer, but bless your sweet life us had good +shoes in winter and wore good stockin's too. It tuk three shoemakers for +our plantation. Dey was Uncle Isom, Uncle Jim, and Uncle Stafford. Dey +made up hole-stock shoes for de 'omans and gals and brass-toed brogans +for de mens and boys. + +"Us had pretty white dresses for Sunday. Marse Alec wanted evvybody on +his place dressed up dat day. He sont his houseboy, Uncle Harris, down +to de cabins evvy Sunday mornin' to tell evvy slave to clean hisself up. +Dey warn't never give no chance to forgit. Dere was a big old room sot +aside for a wash-room. Folkses laughs at me now 'cause I ain't never +stopped takin' a bath evvy Sunday mornin'. + +"Marse Lordnorth Stephens was de boss on Marse Alec's plantation. Course +Marse Alec owned us and he was our sho 'nough Marster. Neither one of +'em ever married. Marse Lordnorth was a good man, but he didn't have no +use for 'omans--he was a sissy. Dere warn't no Marster no whar no better +dan our Marse Alec Stephens, but he never stayed home enough to tend to +things hisself much 'cause he was all de time too busy on de outside. He +was de President or somepin of our side durin' de war. + +"Uncle Pierce went wid Marse Alec evvy whar he went. His dog, Rio, had +more sense dan most folkses. Marse Alec, he was all de time havin' big +mens visit him up at de big house. One time, out in de yard, him and one +of dem 'portant mens got in a argyment 'bout somepin. Us chillun snuck +up close to hear what dey was makin' such a rukus 'bout. I heared Marse +Alec say: 'I got more sense in my big toe dan you is got in your whole +body.' And he was right--he did have more sense dan most folkses. Ain't +I been a-tellin' you he was de President or somepin lak dat, dem days? + +"Ma, she was Marse Alec's cook and looked atter de house. Atter she died +Marse Lordnorth got Mrs. Mary Berry from Habersham County to keep house +at de big house, but Aunt 'Liza, she done de cookin' atter Miss Mary got +dar. Us little Niggers sho' did love Miss Mary. Us called her "Mammy +Mary" sometimes. Miss Mary had three sons and one of 'em was named Jeff +Davis. I 'members when dey come and got him and tuk him off to war. +Marse Lordnorth built a four-room house on de plantation for Miss Mary +and her boys. Evvybody loved our Miss Mary, 'cause she was so good and +sweet, and dere warn't nothin' us wouldn't have done for her. + +"No Lord! Marse Lordnorth never needed no overseer or no carriage driver +neither. Uncle Jim was de head man wat got de Niggers up evvy mornin' +and started 'em off to wuk right. De big house sho was a pretty place, +a-settin' up on a high hill. De squirrels was so tame dar dey jus' +played all 'round de yard. Marse Alec's dog is buried in dat yard. + +"No Mam, I never knowed how many acres dere was in de plantation us +lived on, and Marse Alec had other places too. He had land scattered +evvywhar. Lord, dere was a heap of Niggers on dat place, and all of us +was kin to one another. Grandma Becky and Grandpa Stafford was de fust +slaves Marse Alec ever had, and dey sho had a passel of chillun. One +thing sho Marse Lordnorth wouldn't keep no bright colored Nigger on dat +plantation if he could help it. Aunt Mary was a bright colored Nigger +and dey said dat Marse John, Marse Lordnorth's brother, was her Pa, but +anyhow Marse Lordnorth never had no use for her 'cause she was a bright +colored Nigger. + +"Marse Lordnorth never had no certain early time for his slaves to git +up nor no special late time for 'em to quit wuk. De hours dey wuked was +'cordin' to how much wuk was ahead to be done. Folks in Crawfordville +called us 'Stephens' Free Niggers.' + +"Us minded Marse Lordnorth--us had to do dat--but he let us do pretty +much as us pleased. Us never had no sorry piece of a Marster. He was a +good man and he made a sho 'nough good Marster. I never seed no Nigger +git a beatin', and what's more I never heared of nothin' lak dat on our +place. Dere was a jail in Crawfordville, but none of us Niggers on Marse +Alec's place warn't never put in it. + +"No Lord! None of us Niggers never knowed nothin' 'bout readin' and +writin'. Dere warn't no school for Niggers den, and I ain't never been +to school a day in my life. Niggers was more skeered of newspapers dan +dey is of snakes now, and us never knowed what a Bible was dem days. + +"Niggers never had no churches of deir own den. Dey went to de white +folkses' churches and sot in de gallery. One Sunday when me and my +sister Frances went to church I found 50c in Confederate money and +showed it to her. She tuk it away from me. Dat's de onliest money I seed +durin' slavery time. Course you knows dey throwed Confederate money away +for trash atter de war was over. Den us young chaps used to play wid it. + +"I never went to no baptizin's nor no funerals neither den. Funerals +warn't de style. When a Nigger died dem days, dey jus' put his body in a +box and buried it. I 'members very well when Aunt Sallie and Aunt +Catherine died, but I was little den, and I didn't take it in what dey +done bout buryin' 'em. + +"None of Marse Alec's slaves never run away to de North, 'cause he was +so good to 'em dey never wanted to leave him. De onliest Nigger what +left Marse Alec's place was Uncle Dave, and he wouldn't have left 'cept +he got in trouble wid a white 'oman. You needn't ax me her name 'cause I +ain't gwine to tell it, but I knows it well as I does my own name. +Anyhow Marse Alec give Uncle Dave some money and told him to leave, and +nobody never seed him no more atter dat. + +"Oh yessum! Us heared 'bout 'em, but none of us never seed no +patterollers on Marse Alec's plantation. He never 'lowed 'em on his +land, and he let 'em know dat he kept his slaves supplied wid passes +whenever dey wanted to go places so as dey could come and go when dey +got good and ready. Thursday and Sadday nights was de main nights dey +went off. Uncle Stafford's wife was Miss Mary Stephen's cook, Uncle +Jim's wife lived on de Finley place, and Uncle Isom's belonged to de +Hollises, so dey had regular passes all de time and no patterollers +never bothered 'em none. + +"Whenever Marse Alec or Marse Lordnorth wanted to send a message dey +jus' put George or Mack on a horse and sont 'em on but one thing sho, +dere warn't no slave knowed what was in dem letters. + +"Marse Alec sho had plenty of mules. Some of 'em was named: Pete, Clay, +Rollin, Jack, and Sal. Sal was Allen's slow mule, and he set a heap of +store by her. Dere was a heap more mules on dat place, but I can't call +back dere names right now. + +"Most times when slaves went to deir quarters at night, mens rested, but +sometimes dey holped de 'omans cyard de cotton and wool. Young folkses +frolicked, sung songs, and visited from cabin to cabin. When dey got +behind wid de field wuk, sometimes slaves wuked atter dinner Saddays, +but dat warn't often. But, Oh, dem Sadday nights! Dat was when slaves +got together and danced. George, he blowed de quills, and he sho could +blow grand dance music on 'em. Dem Niggers would jus' dance down. Dere +warn't no foolishment 'lowed atter 10:00 o'clock no night. Sundays dey +went to church and visited 'round, but folks didn't spend as much time +gaddin' 'bout lak dey does now days. + +"Christmas Day! Oh, what a time us Niggers did have dat day! Marse +Lordnorth and Marse Alec give us evvything you could name to eat: cake +of all kinds, fresh meat, lightbread, turkeys, chickens, ducks, geese, +and all kinds of wild game. Dere was allus plenty of pecans, apples, and +dried peaches too at Christmas. Marse Alec had some trees what had fruit +dat looked lak bananas on 'em, but I done forgot what was de name of dem +trees. Marse Alec would call de grown folkses to de big house early in +de mornin' and pass 'round a big pewter pitcher full of whiskey, den he +would put a little whiskey in dat same pitcher and fill it wid sweetened +water and give dat to us chillun. Us called dat 'toddy' or 'dram'. Marse +Alex allus had plenty of good whiskey, 'cause Uncle Willis made it up +for him and it was made jus' right. De night atter Christmas Day us +pulled syrup candy, drunk more liquor, and danced. Us had a big time for +a whole week and den on New Year's Day us done a little wuk jus' to +start de year right and us feasted dat day on fresh meat, plenty of +cake, and whiskey. Dere was allus a big pile of ash-roasted 'taters on +hand to go wid dat good old baked meat. Us allus tried to raise enough +'taters to last all through de winter 'cause Niggers sho does love dem +sweet 'taters. No Mam, us never knowed nothin' 'bout Santa Claus 'til +atter de war. + +"No Mam, dere warn't no special cornshuckin's and cotton pickin's on +Marse Alec's place, but of course dey did quilt in de winter 'cause dere +had to be lots of quiltin' done for all dem slaves to have plenty of +warm kivver, and you knows, Lady, 'omens can quilt better if dey gits a +passel of 'em together to do it. Marse Alec and Marse Lordnorth never +'lowed dere slaves to mix up wid other folkses business much. + +"Oh Lord! Us never played no games in slavery times, 'cept jus' to run +around in a ring and pat our hands. I never sung no songs 'cause I +warn't no singer, and don't talk 'bout no Raw Head and Bloody Bones or +nothin' lak dat. Dey used to skeer us chillun so bad 'bout dem sort of +things dat us used to lay in bed at night a-shakin' lak us was havin' +chills. I've seed plenty of ha'nts right here in Athens. Not long atter +I had left Crawfordville and moved to Athens, I had been in bed jus' a +little while one night, and was jus' dozin' off to sleep when I woke up +and sot right spang up in bed. I seed a white man, dressed in white, +standin' before me. I sho didn't say nothin' to him for I was too +skeered. De very last time I went to a dance, somepin got atter me and +skeered me so my hair riz up 'til I couldn't git my hat on my haid, and +dat cyored me of gwine to dances. I ain't never been to no more sich +doin's. + +"Old Marster was powerful good to his Niggers when dey got sick. He had +'em seed atter soon as it was 'ported to him dat dey was ailin'. Yessum, +dere warn't nothin' short 'bout our good Marsters, 'deed dere warn't! +Grandpa Stafford had a sore laig and Marse Lordnorth looked atter him +and had Uncle Jim dress dat pore old sore laig evvy day. Slaves didn't +git sick as often as Niggers does now days. Mammy Mary had all sorts of +teas made up for us, 'cordin' to whatever ailment us had. Boneset tea +was for colds. De fust thing dey allus done for sore throat was give us +tea made of red oak bark wid alum. Scurvy grass tea cleant us out in the +springtime, and dey made us wear little sacks of assfiddy (asafetida) +'round our necks to keep off lots of sorts of miseries. Some folkses +hung de left hind foot of a mole on a string 'round deir babies necks to +make 'em teethe easier. I never done nothin' lak dat to my babies 'cause +I never believed in no such foolishment. Some babies is jus' natchelly +gwine to teethe easier dan others anyhow. + +"I 'members jus' as good as if it was yesterday what Mammy Mary said +when she told us de fust news of freedom. 'You all is free now,' she +said. 'You don't none of you belong to Mister Lordnorth nor Mister Alec +no more, but I does hope you will all stay on wid 'em, 'cause dey will +allus be jus' as good to you as dey has done been in de past.' Me, I +warn't even studyin' nothin' 'bout leavin' Marse Alec, but Sarah Ann and +Aunt Mary, dey threwed down deir hoes and jus' whooped and hollered +'cause dey was so glad. When dem Yankees come to our place Mammy Mary +axed 'em if dey warn't tired of war. 'What does you know 'bout no war?' +Dey axed her right back. 'No, us won't never git tired of doin' good.' + +"I stayed on wid my two good Marsters 'til most 3 years atter de war, +and den went to wuk for Marse Tye Elder in Crawfordville. Atter dat I +wuked for Miss Puss King, and when she left Crawfordville I come on here +to Athens and wuked for Miss Tildy Upson on Prince Avenue. Den I went to +Atlanta to wuk for Miss Ruth Evage (probably Elliott). Miss Ruth was a +niece of Abraham Lincoln's. Her father was President Lincoln's brother +and he was a Methodist preacher what lived in Mailpack, New York. I went +evvywhar wid Miss Ruth. When me and Miss Ruth was in Philadelphia, I got +sick and she sont me home to Athens and I done been here wid my daughter +ever since. + +"Lawdy, Miss! I ain't never been married, but I did live wid Major Baker +18 years and us had five chillun. Dey is all daid but two. Niggers +didn't pay so much 'tention to gittin' married dem days as dey does now. +I stays here wid my gal, Ida Baker. My son lives in Cleveland, Ohio. My +fust child was borned when I warn't but 14 years old. De war ended in +April and she was borned in November of dat year. Now, Miss! I ain't +never told but one white 'oman who her Pa was, so you needn't start +axin' me nothin' 'bout dat. She had done been walkin' evvywhar 'fore she +died when she was jus' 10 months old and I'm a-tellin' you de truth +when I say she had more sense dan a heap of white chillun has when dey +is lots older dan she was. Whilst I was off in New York wid Miss Ruth, +Major, he up and got married. I reckon he's daid by now. I don't keer +nohow, atter de way he done me. I made a good livin' for Major 'til he +married again. I seed de 'oman he married once. + +"Yes Mam," there was strong emphasis in this reply. "I sho would ruther +have slavery days back if I could have my same good Marsters 'cause I +never had no hard times den lak I went through atter dey give us +freedom. I ain't never got over not bein' able to see Marse Alec no +more. I was livin' at Marse Tye Elder's when de gate fell on Marse Alec, +and he was crippled and lamed up from dat time on 'til he died. He got +to be Governor of Georgia whilst he was crippled. When he got hurt by +dat gate, smallpox was evvywhar and dey wouldn't let me go to see 'bout +him. Dat most killed me 'cause I did want to go see if dere was somepin' +I could do for him. + +"Lordy Mussy, Miss! I had a time jinin' up wid de church. I was in +Mailpack, New York, wid Miss Ruth when I had de urge to jine up. I told +Miss Ruth 'bout it and she said: 'Dere ain't no Baptist church in 10 +miles of here.' 'Lord, have mussy!' I said. 'Miss Ruth, what I gwine do? +Dese is all Methodist churches up here and I jus' can't jine up wid no +Methodists.' 'Yes you can,' she snapped at me, 'cause my own Pa's +a-holdin a 'vival in dis very town and de Methodist church is de best +anyhow.' Well, I went on and jined de Reverend Lincoln's Methodist +church, but I never felt right 'bout it. Den us went to Philadelphia and +soon as I could find a Baptist church dar, I jined up wid it. Northern +churches ain't lak our southern churches 'cause de black and white +folkses all belong to de same church dar and goes to church together. On +dat account I still didn't feel lak I had jined de church. Bless your +sweet life, Honey, when I come back to de South, I was quick as I could +be to jine up wid a good old southern Baptist church. I sho didn't mean +to live outdoors, 'specially atter I dies." Georgia's eyes sparkled and +her flow of speech was smooth as she told of her religious experiences. +When that subject was exhausted her eyes dimmed again and her speech +became less articulate. + +Georgia's reeking pipe had been laid aside for the watermelon and not +long after that was consumed the restless black fingers sought +occupation sewing gay pieces for a quilt. "Miss, I warn't born to be +lazy, I warn't raised dat way, and I sho ain't skeered to die. + +"Good-bye, Honey," said Georgia, as the interviewer arose and made her +way toward the street. "Hurry back and don't forgit to fetch me dat +purty pink dress you is a-wearin'. I don't lak white dresses and I ain't +never gwine to wear a black one nohow." + + +[TR: Return Visit] + +Georgia was on the back porch washing her face and hands and quarrelling +with Ida for not having her breakfast ready at nine-thirty when the +interviewer arrived for a re-visit. + +"Come in," Georgia invited, "and have a cheer. But, Miss I done told you +all I knows 'bout Marse Alec and dem deys when I lived on his +plantation. You know chillun den warn't 'lowed to hang 'round de grown +folks whar dey could hear things what was talked about." + +About this time Ida came down from a second-floor kitchen with her +mother's breakfast. She was grumbling a little louder on each step of +the rickety stairway. "Lord, have mussy! Ma is still a-talkin' 'bout dat +old slavery stuff, and it ain't nothin' nohow." After Ida's eyes had +rested on the yellow crepe frock just presented Georgia in appreciation +of the three hours she had given for the first interview, she became +reconciled for the story to be resumed, and even offered her assistance +in rousing the recollections of her parent. + +"Did I tell you" Georgia began, "dat de man what looked atter Marse +Alec's business was his fust cousin? He was de Marse Lordnorth I'se all +time talkin' 'bout, and Marse John was Marse Lordnorth's brother. Dere +warn't no cook or house gal up at de big house but Ma 'til atter she +died, and den when Miss Mary Berry tuk charge of de house dey made +Uncle Harry and his wife, Aunt 'Liza, house boy and cook. + +"Marse Alec growed all his corn on his Googer Crick plantation. He +planned for evvything us needed and dere warn't but mighty little dat he +didn't have raised to take keer of our needs. Lordy, didn't I tell you +what sort of shoes, holestock shoes is? Dem was de shoes de 'omans wore +and dey had extra pieces on de sides so us wouldn't knock holes in 'em +too quick. + +"De fust time I ever seed Marse Alec to know who he was, I warn't more'n +6 years old. Uncle Stafford had went fishin' and cotched de nicest mess +of fish you ever seed. He cleant 'em and put 'em in a pan of water, and +told me to take 'em up to de big house to Marse Alec. I was skeered when +I went in de big house yard and axed, what looked lak a little boy, whar +Marse Alec was, and I was wuss skeered when he said: 'Dis is Marse Alec +you is talkin' to. What you want?' I tole him Uncle Stafford sont him de +fishes and he told me: 'Take 'em to de kitchen and tell 'Liza to cook +'em for me.' I sho ain't never gwine to forgit dat. + +"One day dey sont me wid a bucket of water to de field, and I had to go +through de peach orchard. I et so many peaches, I was 'most daid when I +got back to de house. Dey had to drench me down wid sweet milk, and from +dat day to dis I ain't never laked peaches. From den on Marse Alec +called me de 'peach gal.' + +"Marse Alec warn't home much of de time, but when he was dar he used to +walk down to de cabins and laugh and talk to his Niggers. He used to +sing a song for de slave chillun dat run somepin lak dis: + + 'Walk light ladies + De cake's all dough, + You needn't mind de weather, + If de wind don't blow.'" + +Georgia giggled when she came to the end of the stanza. "Us didn't know +when he was a-singin' dat tune to us chillun dat when us growed up us +would be cake walkin' to de same song. + +"On Sundays, whenever Marse Alec was home, he done lots of readin' out +of a great big old book. I didn't know what it was, but he was pow'ful +busy wid it. He never had no parties or dancin' dat I knows 'bout, but +he was all time havin' dem big 'portant mens at his house talkin' 'bout +de business what tuk him off from home so much. I used to see Lawyer +Coombs dere heaps of times. He was a big, fine lookin' man. Another big +lawyer was all time comin' dar too, but I done lost his name. Marse Alec +had so awful much sense in his haid dat folkses said it stunted his +growin'. Anyhow, long as he lived he warn't no bigger dan a boy. + +"When Uncle Harry's and Aunt 'Liza's daughter what was named 'Liza, got +married he was in Washin'ton or some place lak dat. He writ word to +Marse Linton, his half-brother, to pervide a weddin' for her. I knows +'bout dat 'cause I et some of dat barbecue. Dat's all I 'members 'bout +her weddin'. I done forgot de name of de bridegroom. He lived on some +other plantation. Aunt 'Liza had two gals and one boy. He was named +Allen. + +"Whilst Marse Alec was President or somepin, he got sick and had to come +back home, and it wern't long atter dat 'fore de surrender. Allen was +'pinted to watch for de blue coats. When dey come to take Marse Alec +off, dey was all over the place wid deir guns. Us Niggers hollered and +cried and tuk on pow'ful 'cause us sho thought dey was gwine to kill him +on account of his bein' such a high up man on de side what dey was +fightin'. All de Niggers followed 'em to de depot when dey tuk Marse +Alec and Uncle Pierce away. Dey kept Marse Alec in prison off somewhar a +long time but dey sont Pierce back home 'fore long. + +"I seed Jeff Davis when dey brung him through Crawfordville on de train. +Dey had him all fastened up wid chains. Dey told me dat a Nigger 'oman +put pizen in Jeff Davis' somepin t'eat and dat was what kilt him. One +thing sho, our Marse Alec warn't pizened by nobody. He was comin' from +de field one day when a big old heavy gate fell down on him, and even if +he did live a long time atterwards dat was what was de cause of his +death. + +"I seed Uncle Pierce 'fore he died and us sot and talked and cried 'bout +Marse Alec. Yessum, us sho did have de best Marster in de world. If +ever a man went to Heaven, Marse Alec did. I sho does wish our good old +Marster was livin' now. Now, Miss, I done told you all I can ricollec' +'bout dem days. I thanks you a lot for dat purty yaller dress, and I +hopes you comes back to see me again sometime." + + + + +ALICE BATTLE, EX-SLAVE +Hawkinsville, Georgia + +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson--1936) +[JUL 20, 1937] + + +During the 1840's, Emanuel Caldwell--born in North Carolina, and Neal +Anne Caldwell--born in South Carolina, were brought to Macon by +"speculators" and sold to Mr. Ed Marshal of Bibb County. Some time +thereafter, this couple married on Mr. Marshal's plantation, and their +second child, born about 1850, was Alice Battle. From her birth until +freedom, Alice was a chattel of this Mr. Marshal, whom she refers to as +a humane man, though inclined to use the whip when occasion demanded. + +Followed to its conclusion, Alice's life history is void of thrills and +simply an average ex-slave's story. As a slave, she was well fed, well +clothed, and well treated, as were her brother and sister slaves. Her +mother was a weaver, her father--a field hand, and she did both +housework and plantation labor. + +Alice saw the Yankee pass her ex-master's home with their famous +prisoner, Jeff Davis, after his capture, in '65. The Yankee band, says +she, was playing "We'll hang Jeff Davis on a Sour Apple Tree". Some of +the soldiers "took time out" to rob the Marshal smokehouse. The Whites +and Negroes were all badly frightened, but the "damyankees didn't harm +nobody". + +After freedom, Alice remained with the Marshals until Christmas, when +she moved away. Later, she and her family moved back to the Marshal +plantation for a few years. A few years still later, Alice married a +Battle "Nigger". + +Since the early '70's, Alice has "drifted around" quite a bit. She and +her husband are now too old and feeble to work. They live with one of +their sons, and are objects of charity. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +JASPER BATTLE, Age 80 +112 Berry St., +Athens, Ga. + +Written by: +Grace McCune [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +The shade of the large water oaks in Jasper's yard was a welcome sight +when the interviewer completed the long walk to the old Negro's place in +the sweltering heat of a sunny July afternoon. The old house appeared to +be in good condition and the yard was clean and tidy. Jasper's wife, +Lula, came around the side of the house in answer to the call for +Jasper. A large checked apron almost covered her blue dress and a clean +white headcloth concealed her hair. Despite her advanced age, she seemed +to be quite spry. + +"Jus' come back here whar I'se a-doin' de white folks' washin'," she +said. "Jasper's done been powerful sick and I can't leave him by hisself +none. I brung him out here in de shade so I could watch him and 'tend to +him whilst I wuks. Jasper stepped on a old plank what had two rusty +nails in it, and both of 'em went up in his foot a fur ways. I done driv +dem nails plumb up to dey haids in de north side of a tree and put +jimpson weed poultices on Jasper's foot, but it's still powerful bad +off." + +By this time we had arrived within sight and earshot of the old rocking +chair where Jasper sat with his foot propped high in another chair. His +chair had long ago been deprived of its rockers. The injured member +appeared to be swollen and was covered with several layers of the +jimpson weed leaves. The old man's thin form was clothed in a faded blue +shirt and old gray cotton trousers. His clothes were clean and his +white hair was in marked contrast to his shining but wrinkled black +face. He smiled when Lula explained the nature of the proposed +interview. "'Scuse me, Missy," he apologized, "for not gittin' up, +'cause I jus' can't use dis old foot much, but you jus' have a seat here +in de shade and rest yourself." Lula now excused herself, saying: "I +jus' got to hurry and git de white folks' clothes washed and dried 'fore +it rains," and she resumed her work in the shade of another huge tree +where a fire was burning brightly under her washpot and a row of +sud-filled tubs occupied a long bench. + +"Lula, she has to wuk all de time," Jasper explained, "and she don't +never have time to listen to me talk. I'se powerful glad somebody is +willin' to stop long enough to pay some heed whilst I talks 'bout +somepin. Dem days 'fore de war was good old days, 'specially for de +colored folks. I know, 'cause my Mammy done told me so. You see I was +mighty little and young when de war was over, but I heared de old folks +do lots of talkin' 'bout dem times whilst I was a-growin' up, and den +too, I stayed right dar on dat same place 'til I was 'bout grown. It was +Marse Henry Jones' plantation 'way off down in Taliaferro County, nigh +Crawfordville, Georgy. Mammy b'longed to Marse Henry. She was Harriet +Jones. Daddy was Simon Battle and his owner was Marse Billie Battle. De +Battle's plantation was off down dar nigh de Jones' place. When my Mammy +and Daddy got married Marse Henry wouldn't sell Mammy, and Marse Billie +wouldn't sell Daddy, so dey didn't git to see one another but twice a +week--dat was on Wednesday and Sadday nights--'til atter de war was done +over. I kin still 'member Daddy comin' over to Marse Henry's plantation +to see us. + +"Marse Henry kept a lot of slaves to wuk his big old plantation whar he +growed jus' evvything us needed to eat and wear 'cept sugar and coffee +and de brass toes for our home-made, brogan shoes. Dere allus was +a-plenty t'eat and wear on dat place. + +"Slave quarters was log cabins built in long rows. Some had chimblies in +de middle, twixt two rooms, but de most of 'em was jus' one-room cabins +wid a stick and mud chimbly at de end. Dem chimblies was awful bad 'bout +ketchin' on fire. Didn't nobody have no glass windows. Dey jus' had +plain plank shutters for blinds and de doors was made de same way, out +of rough planks. All de beds was home-made and de best of 'em was +corded. Dey made holes in de sides and foots and haidpieces, and run +heavy home-made cords in dem holes. Dey wove 'em crossways in and out of +dem holes from one side to another 'til dey had 'em ready to lay de +mattress mat on. I'se helped to pull dem cords tight many a time. Our +mattress ticks was made of homespun cloth and was stuffed wid wheat +straw. 'Fore de mattress tick was put on de bed a stiff mat wove out of +white oak splits was laid on top of de cords to pertect de mattress and +make it lay smooth. Us was 'lowed to pick up all de old dirty cotton +'round de place to make our pillows out of. + +"Jus' a few of de slave famblies was 'lowed to do deir own cookin' +'cause Marster kept cooks up at de big house what never had nothin' else +to do but cook for de white folks and slaves. De big old fireplace in +dat kitchen at de big house was more dan eight feet wide and you could +pile whole sticks of cord-wood on it. It had racks acrost to hang de +pots on and big ovens and little ovens and big, thick, iron fryin' pans +wid long handles and hefty iron lids. Dey could cook for a hunderd +people at one time in dat big old kitchen easy. At one time dere was +tables acrost one end of de kitchen for de slaves t'eat at, and de slave +chillun et dar too. + +"Marster was mighty good to slave chillun. He never sont us out to wuk +in de fields 'til us was 'most growed-up, say 12 or 14 years old. A +Nigger 12 or 14 years old dem days was big as a white child 17 or 18 +years old. Why Miss, Niggers growed so fast, dat most of de Nigger +nurses warn't no older dan de white chillun dey tuk keer of. Marster +said he warn't gwine to send no babies to de fields. When slave chillun +got to be 'bout 9 or 10 years old dey started 'em to fetchin' in wood +and water, cleanin' de yards, and drivin' up de cows at night. De +bigges' boys was 'lowed to measure out and fix de stock feed, but de +most of us chillun jus' played in de cricks and woods all de time. +Sometimes us played Injuns and made so much fuss dat old Aunt Nancy +would come out to de woods to see what was wrong, and den when she found +us was jus' a-havin' fun, she stropped us good for skeerin' her. + +"Mammy's job was to make all de cloth. Dat was what she done all de +time; jus' wove cloth. Some of de others cyarded de bats and spun +thread, but Mammy, she jus' wove on so reg'lar dat she made enough cloth +for clothes for all dem slaves on de plantation and, it's a fact, us did +have plenty of clothes. All de nigger babies wore dresses made jus' alak +for boys and gals. I was sho'ly mighty glad when dey 'lowed me to git +rid of dem dresses and wear shirts. I was 'bout 5 years old den, but dat +boys' shirt made me feel powerful mannish. Slave gals wore homespun +cotton dresses, and dey had plenty of dem dresses, so as dey could keep +nice and clean all de time. Dey knitted all de socks and stockin's for +winter. Dem gals wore shawls, and dere poke bonnets had ruffles 'round +'em. All de shoes was home-made too. Marster kept one man on de +plantation what didn't do nothin' but make shoes. Lordy, Missy! What +would gals say now if dey had to wear dem kind of clothes? Dey would +raise de roof plumb offen de house. But jus' let me tell you, a purty +young gal dressed in dem sort of clothes would look mighty sweet to me +right now. + +"Us never could eat all de meat in Marster's big old smokehouse. +Sometimes he tuk hams to de store and traded 'em for sugar and coffee. +Plenty of 'bacco was raised on dat plantation for all de white folks and +de growed-up Niggers. Slave chillun warn't sposen to have none, so us +had to swipe what 'bacco us got. If our Mammies found out 'bout us +gittin' 'bacco, dey stropped us 'til de skin was most off our backs, but +sometimes us got away wid a little. If us seed any of de old folks was +watchin' us, us slipped de 'bacco from one to another of us whilst dey +s'arched us, and it went mighty bad on us if dey found it. + +"Slaves went to de white folks' church and listened to de white +preachers. Dere warn't no colored preacher 'lowed to preach in dem +churches den. Dey preached to de white folks fust and den dey let de +colored folks come inside and hear some preachin' atter dey was through +wid de white folks. But on de big 'vival meetin' days dey 'lowed de +Niggers to come in and set in de gallery and listen at de same time dey +preached to de white folks. When de sermon was over dey had a big dinner +spread out on de grounds and dey had jus' evvything good t'eat lak +chickens, barbecued hogs and lambs, pies, and lots of watermelons. Us +kept de watermelons in de crick 'til dey was ready to cut 'em. A white +gentleman, what dey called Mr. Kilpatrick, done most of de preachin'. He +was from de White Plains neighborhood. He sho' did try mighty hard to +git evvybody to 'bey de Good Lord and keep his commandments. + +"Mr. Kilpatrick preached all de funerals too. It 'pears lak a heap more +folks is a-dyin' out dese days dan died den, and folks was a heap better +den to folks in trouble. Dey would go miles and miles den when dey +didn't have no auto'biles, to help folks what was in trouble. Now, dey +won't go next door when dere's death in de house. Den, when anybody died +de fust thing dey done was to shroud 'em and lay 'em out on de coolin' +board 'til Old Marster's cyarpenter could git de coffin made up. Dere +warn't no embalmers dem days and us had to bury folks de next day atter +dey died. De coffins was jus' de same for white folks and deir slaves. +On evvy plantation dere was a piece of ground fenced in for a graveyard +whar dey buried white folks and slaves too. My old Daddy is buried down +yonder on Marse Henry's plantation right now. + +"When a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal, he didn't ax de gal, +but he went and told Marster 'bout it. Marster would talk to de gal and +if she was willin', den Marster would tell all de other Niggers us was +a-goin' to have a weddin'. Dey would all come up to de big house and +Marster would tell de couple to jine hands and jump backwards over a +broomstick, and den he pernounced 'em man and wife. Dey didn't have to +have no licenses or nothin' lak dey does now. If a man married up wid +somebody on another place, he had to git a pass from his Marster, so as +he could go see his wife evvy Wednesday and Sadday nights. When de +patterollers cotched slaves out widout no passes, dey evermore did beat +'em up. Leastways dat's what Mammy told me. + +"Durin' de big war all de white folkses was off a-fightin' 'cept dem +what was too old to fight or what was too bad crippled and 'flicted. Dey +stayed home and looked atter de 'omans and chillun. Somebody sont +Mist'ess word dat dem yankees was on de way to our plantation and she +hid evvything she could, den had de hogs and hosses driv off to de +swamps and hid. Mammy was crazy 'bout a pet pig what Marster had done +give her, so Mist'ess told her to go on down to dat swamp quick, and +hide dat little pig. Jus' as she was a-runnin' back in de yard, dem +yankees rid in and she seed 'em a-laughin' fit to kill. She looked +'round to see what dey was tickled 'bout and dere followin' her lak a +baby was dat pig. Dem yankees was perlite lak, and dey never bothered +nothin' on our place, but dey jus' plumb ruint evvything on some of de +plantations right close to our'n. Dey tuk nigh evvything some of our +neighbors had t'eat, most all deir good hosses, and anything else dey +wanted. Us never did know why dey never bothered our white folkses' +things. + +"When dey give us our freedom us went right on over to Marse Billie +Battle's place and stayed dar wid Daddy 'bout a year; den Daddy come wid +us back to Marse Henry's, and dar us stayed 'til Old Marster died. Long +as he lived atter de war, he wukked most of his help on sheers, and seed +dat us was tuk keer of jus' lak he had done when us all b'longed to him. +Us never went to school much 'cause Mammy said white folks didn't lak +for Niggers to have no larnin', but atter de war was done over our Old +Mist'ess let colored chillun have some lessons in a little cabin what +was built in de back yard for de white chillun to go to school in. + +"Atter dey buried our Old Marster, us moved down to Hancock County and +farmed dar, 'cause dat was all us knowed how to do. Us got together and +raised money to buy ground enough for a churchyard and a graveyard for +colored folks. Dat graveyard filled up so fast dat dey had to buy more +land several times. Us holped 'em build de fust colored church in +Hancock County. + +"School for colored chillun was held den in our church house. Our +teacher was a white man, Mr. Tom Andrews, and he was a mighty good +teacher, but Lordy, how strick he was! Dese here chillun don't know +nothin' 'bout school. Us went early in de mornin', tuk our dinner in a +bucket, and never left 'til four o'clock, and sometimes dat was 'most +nigh sundown. All day us studied dat blue back speller, and dat white +teacher of ours sho' tuk de skin offen our backs if us didn't mind him. +Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' and foolin' 'round on de way home, +'cause dat white teacher 'lowed he had control of us 'til us got to our +Mammies' doors and if us didn't git for home in a hurry, it was jus' too +bad for us when he tuk it out on us next day wid dat long hick'ry +switch. + +"Things is sho' diffunt now. Folks ain't good now as dey was den, but +dere is gwine to be a change. I may not be here to see it, but it's +a-comin' 'cause de Good Lord is done 'sied (prophesied) it, and it's got +to be. God's sayin' is comin' to pass jus' as sho' as us is livin' and +settin' in de shade of dis here tree. + +"Lordy, Miss! How come you axes 'bout colored folks'es weddin's? I was +a-courtin' a little 14-year old gal named Lovie Williams, but her Mammy +runned me off and said she warn't gwine to let Lovie git married up wid +nobody 'til she got big enough. I jus' bought dem licenses and watched +for my chanct and den I stole dat gal right from under her Mammy's eyes. +My Mammy knowed all 'bout it and holped us git away. Us didn't have no +time for no weddin'. De best us could do was jus' to git ourselfs +married up. Lovie's Mammy raised de Old Ned, but us didn't keer den, +'cause it was too late for her to do nothin' to part us. Lovie was one +of the bestest gals what ever lived. Us raised 12 chillun and I never +had one speck of trouble wid her. Lovie's done been daid 15 years now." + +His voice trembled as he talked about his first wife, and Lula almost +stopped her work to listen. This kind of talk did not please her and her +expression grew stern. "You done talked a-plenty," she told him. "You +ain't strong 'nough to do no more talkin'," but Jasper was not willing +to be silenced. "I reckon I knows when I'se tired. I ain't gwine to hush +'til I gits good and ready," was his protest. "Yes Missy," he continued. +"All our chillun is done daid now 'cept four and dey is 'way off up +North. Ain't nobody left here 'cept me and Lula. Lula is pow'ful good to +me. I done got too old to wuk, and can't do nothin' nohow wid dis old +foot so bad off. I'se ready and even anxious to go when de Good Lord +calls for old Jasper to come to de Heav'nly Home. + +"I ain't heared nothin' from my only brother in over 7 years. I 'spose +he still lives in Crawfordville. Missy, I wishes I could go back down to +Crawfordville one more time. I kin jus' see our old homeplace on de +plantation down dar now. Lula a-washin' here, makes me study 'bout de +old washplace on Marse Henry's plantation. Dere was a long bench full of +old wood tubs, and a great big iron pot for bilin' de clothes, and de +batten block and stick. Chillun beat de clothes wid de batten stick and +kept up de fire 'round de pot whilst de 'omans leaned over de tubs +washin' and a-singin' dem old songs. You could hear 'em 'most a mile +away. Now and den one of de 'omans would stop singin' long enough to +yell at de chillun to 'git more wood on dat fire 'fore I lash de skin +offen your back.' + +"Oh Missy, dem was good old days. Us would be lucky to have 'em back +again, 'specially when harvest time comes 'round. You could hear Niggers +a-singin' in de fields 'cause dey didn't have no worries lak dey got +now. When us got de corn up from de fields, Niggers come from far and +nigh to Marster's cornshuckin'. Dat cornshuckin' wuk was easy wid +evvybody singin' and havin' a good time together whilst dey made dem +shucks fly. De cornshuckin' captain led all de singin' and he set right +up on top of de highes' pile of corn. De chillun was kept busy a-passin' +de liquor jug 'round. Atter it started gittin' dark, Marster had big +bonfires built up and plenty of torches set 'round so as dere would be +plenty of light. Atter dey et all dey wanted of dem good things what had +done been cooked up for de big supper, den de wrastlin' matches started, +and Marster allus give prizes to de best wrastlers. Dere warn't no +fussin' and fightin' 'lowed on our place, and dem wrastlin' matches was +all in good humor and was kept orderly. Marster wanted evvybody to be +friends on our plantation and to stay dat way, for says he: 'De Blessed +Saviour done said for us to love our neighbor as ourselfs, and to give +and what us gives is gwine to come back to us.' Missy, de Good Lord's +word is always right." + +The interviewer was preparing to leave when one of Jasper's old friends +approached the sheltering tree in the yard, where the interview was +drawing to a close. "Brudder Paul," said Jasper, "I wisht you had come +sooner 'cause Missy, here, and me is done had de bestes' time a-goin' +back over dem old times when folks loved one another better dan dey does +now. Good-bye Missy, you done been mighty kind and patient wid old +Jasper. Come back again some time." + + + + +[HW: Dist. -- +Ex-Slv. #10] + +ARRIE BINNS OF WASHINGTON-WILKES + +by +Minnie Branham Stonestreet +Washington-Wilkes +Georgia +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Arrie Binns lives in Baltimore, a negro suburb of Washington-Wilkes, in +a little old tumbled down kind of a cottage that used to be one of the +neatest and best houses of the settlement and where she has lived for +the past sixty-odd years. In the yard of her home is one of the most +beautiful holly trees to be found anywhere. She set it there herself +over fifty years ago. She recalled how her friends predicted bad luck +would befall her because she "sot out er holly", but not being in the +least bit superstitious she paid them "no mind" and has enjoyed her +beautiful tree all these years. Many lovely oaks are around her house; +she set them there long ago when she was young and with her husband +moved into their new home and wanted to make it as attractive as +possible. She is all alone now. Her husband died some years ago and +three of her four children have passed on. Her "preacher son" who was +her delight, died not very long ago. All this sorrow has left Aunt Arrie +old and sad; her face is no longer lighted by the smile it used to know. +She is a tiny little scrap of a woman with the softest voice and is as +neat as can be. She wears an oldfashioned apron all the time and in cool +weather there is always a little black cape around her frail shoulders +and held together with a plain old gold "breastpin". + +She was born in Lincoln County (Georgia), her mother was Emeline Sybert +and her father Jordan Sybert. They belonged to Mr. Jones Sybert and his +wife "Miss Peggy". After freedom they changed their surname to Gullatt +as they liked that better. Arrie was among the oldest of nine children. +The night she was born the stork brought a little baby girl to the home +of a white family just across the creek from the Syberts. The little +white girl was named Arine so "Miss Peggy" named the little new black +baby girl Arrie, and that is how it happened she was given such an odd +name. + +Arrie said she was "15 or 16 years old when the war broke (1865), I wuz +big enough to be lookin' at boys an' dey lookin' at me." She remembers +the days of war, how when the battle of Atlanta was raging they heard +the distant rumble of cannon, and how "upsot" they all were. Her master +died of "the consumption" during the war. She recalls how hard it was +after his death. The Syberts had no children and there was no one to +turn to after his death. Arrie tells of her Master's illness, how she +was the housemaid and was called upon to fan him and how she would get +so tired and sleepy she would nod a little, the fan dropping from hands +into his face. He would take it up and "crack my haid with the handle to +wake me up. I wuz allus so sorry when I done that, but I jest had ter +nod." + +She told about how bad the overseers were and the trouble they gave +until finally "old Miss turned off ther one she had an' put my Pa in his +place to manage things and look after the work." Arrie was never +punished, (not any more than having her head cracked by her Master when +she nodded while fanning him.) "No mam, not none of our niggers wuz +whipped. Why I recollect once, my brother wuz out without a pass an' de +patter rollers kotch him and brung him to old Miss and said he'd have +ter be whipped, old Miss got so mad she didn't know what ter do, she +said nobody wuz a goin' ter whip her niggers, but the patter roller men +'sisted so she said after er while, 'Well, but I'm goin' ter stan' right +here an' when I say stop, yer got ter stop', an' they 'greed to dat, an' +the third time dey hit him she raised her han' an' said 'STOP' an' dey +had ter let my brother go. My Miss wuz a big 'oman, she'd weigh nigh on +ter three hundred pound, I 'spect." + +After her master's death Arrie had to go into the field to work. She +recalled with a little chuckle, the old cream horse, "Toby" she use to +plow. She loved Toby, she said, and they did good work. When not plowing +she said she "picked er round in the fields" doing whatever she could. +She and the other slaves were not required to do very hard work. Her +mother was a field hand, but in the evenings she spun and wove down in +their cabin. Aunt Arrie added "an' I did love to hear that old spinnin' +wheel. It made a low kind of a whirring sound that made me sleepy." She +said her mother, with all the other negro women on the place, had "a +task of spinnin' a spool at night", and they spun and wove on rainy days +too. "Ma made our clothes an' we had pretty dresses too. She dyed some +blue and brown striped. We growed the indigo she used fer the blue, +right dar on the plantation, and she used bark and leaves to make the +tan and brown colors." + +Aunt Arrie said the Doctor was always called in when they were sick, +"but we never sont fer him lesse'n somebody wuz real sick. De old folks +doctored us jest fer little ailments. Dey give us lye tea fer colds. +(This was made by taking a few clean ashes from the fire place, putting +them in a little thin bag and pouring boiling water over them and let +set for a few minutes. This had to be given very weak or else it would +be harmful, Aunt Arrie explained.) Garlic and whiskey, and den, dar +ain't nothin' better fer the pneumony dan splinter tea. I've cured bad +cases with it." (That is made by pouring boiling water over lightwood +splinters.) + +Aunt Arrie told of their life on the plantation and it was not unlike +that of other slaves who had good masters who looked after them. They +had plenty to eat and to wear. Their food was given them and they cooked +and ate their meals in the cabins in family groups. Santa Claus always +found his way to the Quarters and brought them stick candy and other +things to eat. She said for their Christmas dinner there was always a +big fat hen and a hog head. + +In slavery days the negroes had quiltings, dances, picnics and everybody +had a good time, Aunt Arrie said, "an' I kin dance yit when I hears a +fiddle." They had their work to do in the week days, but when Sundays +came there was no work, everybody rested and on "preachin' days" went to +Church. Her father took them all to old Rehoboth, the neighborhood white +church, and they worshiped together, white and black, the negroes in +the gallery. That was back in the days when there was "no lookin' +neither to the right nor to the left" when in church; no matter what +happened, no one could even half way smile. This all was much harder +than having to listen to the long tiresome sermons of those days, Arrie +thinks, specially when she recalled on one occasion "when Mr. Sutton wuz +a preachin' a old goat [HW: got] up under the Church an' every time Mr. +Sutton would say something out real loud that old goat would go 'Bah-a-a +Bah ba-a-a' an' we couldn't laugh a bit. I most busted, I wanted ter +laugh so bad." + +"Yassum, in dem days" continued Aunt Arrie, "all us colored folks went +to the white folks church kase us didn't have no churches of our own and +day want no colored preachers den, but some what wuz called +"Chairbacks". The Chairback fellows went er round preachin' an' singin' +in the cabins down in the Quarters and dey use ter have the bes' +meetin's, folks would be converted an' change dey way. De hymns dey sung +de most wuz "Amazin' Grace" an' "Am I Born ter Die?" I 'members de +meetin's us use ter have down in our cabin an' how everybody would pray +an' sing." + +"Dey ain't nothin' lak it use ter be," sighed Aunt Arrie, "Now when I +first could recollect, when a nigger died they sot up with de corpse all +night and de next day had de funeral an' when dey started to the burial +ground with the body every body in the whole procession would sing +hymns. I've heard 'em 'nough times clear 'cross the fields, singin' and +moanin' as they went. Dem days of real feelin' an' keerin' is gone." + +When freedom came there were sad times on the Sybert plantation, Arrie +said. "Old Miss cried and cried, and all us cried too. Old Miss said +'You'al jest goin' off to perish.' Aunt Jennie, one of the oldest women +slaves stayed on with her and took keer of her, but all us stayed on a +while. Us didn't know whar to go an' what ter do, an' den come Dr. +Peters and Mr. Allen frum Arkansas to git han's to go out dar an' work +fer dem. My Pa took his family and we stayed two years. It took us might +nigh ar whole week to git dar, we went part way on de train and den rid +de steam boat up de Mississippi River ter de landin'. We worked in the +cotton field out dar and done all kinds er work on de farm, but us +didn't like an' Dr. Peters an' Mr. Allen give my Pa money fer us ter +come home on. 'Fore we could git started my oldest brother wanted to +come home so bad he jest pitched out and walked all de way frum Arkansas +to our old home in Georgy. We come back by Memphis and den come on home +on de train. When we wuz out dar I went to school an' got as far as +'Baker'. Dat's de only schoolin' I ever had." + +Aunt Arrie told about her courtship and marriage, she remembers all +about it and grew rather sentimental and sad while she talked. She said +that Franklin Binns was going with her before she went to live in +Arkansas and when she came home he picked up the courtship where he had +left off when she went away. He would ride 20 miles on horseback to see +her. He brought her candy and nice things to eat, but she still wouldn't +"give him no satisfaction 'bout whether she keered fer him er not." She +said other men wanted to come to see her, but she paid them not one bit +of attention. "No mam, I wouldn't 'cept of them, I never did go with in +an' everybody, I don't do dat yit." She said one day Franklin was to see +her and said "Less us marry, I think 'nough of you to marry." She said +she wouldn't tell him nothin' so he went to see her parents and they +agreed, so she married him sometime later. They were married by a white +minister, Mr. Joe Carter. + +Aunt Arrie leads a lonely life now. She grieves for her loved ones more +than negroes usually do. She doesn't get about much, but "I does go over +to see Sis Lou (a neighbor) every now an' den fer consolation." She says +she is living on borrowed time because she has always taken care of +herself and worked and been honest. She said that now she is almost at +the close of her life waiting day by day for the call to come, she is +glad she knew slavery, glad she was reared by good white people who +taught her the right way to live, and she added: "Mistess, I'se so glad +I allus worked hard an' been honest--hit has sho paid me time an' time +agin." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +ExSlv. #7 +Driskell] + +HENRY BLAND--EX-SLAVE +[MAY -- --] + + +Henry Bland is one of the few living ex-slaves who was born on a +plantation near Edenton, Ga., in 1851. His parents were Martha and Sam +Coxton. In this family group were three other children, two girls and +one boy, who was the oldest. When questioned regarding the birthplace +and the movements of his parents, Mr. Bland stated that his father was +born in Hancock County, Ga. His mother along with her mother was brought +to Georgia by the speculator with a drove of other slaves. The first +thing that he remembers of his parents is when he was quite small and +was allowed to remain in the Master's kitchen in the "big house" where +his mother was cook. + +Mr. Coxton, who was the owner of Mr. Bland and his family, was described +as being very rich and influential man in the community where he lived. +Says Mr. Bland, "His only fault was that of drinking too much of the +whisky that he distilled on the plantation." Unlike some of the other +slave owners in that section, Mr. Coxton was very kind to his slaves. +His plantation was a large one and on it was raised cotton, corn, +cane[TR:?], vegetables, and live stock. More cotton was grown than +anything else. + +From the time he was 1 year and 6 months of age until he was 9 years old +he lived in the "big house" with his mother. At night he slept on the +floor there. In spite of this, his and his mother's treatment was +considerably better than that received by those slaves who worked in the +fields. While their food consisted of the same things as did that of the +field slaves, sometimes choice morsels came back to the kitchen from the +Master's table. He says that his mother's clothes were of better quality +than the other slave women (those who were not employed in the house). + +As a child his first job was to cut wood for the stove, pick up chips, +and to drive the cows to and from the pasture. When 9 years old he was +sent to the field as a plow boy. Here he worked with a large number of +other slaves (he does not know the exact number) who were divided into +two groups, the plow group and the hoe group. His father happened to be +the foreman of the hoe gang. His brothers and sisters also worked here +in the fields being required to hoe as well as plow. When picking time +came, everyone was required to pick. The usual amount of cotton each +person was required to pick was 200 lbs. per day. However, when this +amount was not picked by some they were not punished by the overseer, as +was the case on neighboring plantations, because Mr. Coxton realized +that some could do more work than others. Mr. Coxton often told his +overseer that he had not been hired to whip the slaves, but to teach +them how to work. + +Says Mr. Bland: "Our working hours were the same as on any other +plantation. We had to get up every morning before sun-up and when it was +good and light we were in the field. A bugle was blown to wake us." All +the slaves stayed in the field until dark. After leaving the field they +were never required to do any work but could spend their time as they +saw fit to. No work was required on Saturday or Sunday with the +exception that the stock had to be cared for. Besides those days when no +work was required, there was the 4th of July and Christmas on which the +slaves were permitted to do as they pleased. These two latter dates were +usually spent in true holiday spirit as the master usually gave a big +feast in the form of a barbecue and allowed them to invite their +friends. + +When darkness came they sang and danced and this was what they called a +"frolic." As a general rule this same thing was permitted after the +crops had been gathered. Music for these occasions was furnished by +violin, banjo and a clapping of hands. Mr. Bland says that he used to +help furnish this music as Mr. Coxton had bought him a violin. + +On the Coxton plantation all slaves always had a sufficient amount of +clothing. These clothes which were issued when needed and not at any +certain time included articles for Sunday wear as well as articles for +work. Those servants who worked in the "big house" wore practically the +same clothes as the master and his wife with the possible exception that +it met the qualification of being second-handed. An issue of work +clothing included a heavy pair of work shoes called brogans, homespun +shirts and a pair of jeans pants. A pair of knitted socks was also +included The women wore homespun dresses for their working clothes. For +Sunday wear the men were given white cotton shirts and the women white +cotton dresses. All clothing was made on the plantation by those women +who were too old for field work. + +In the same manner that clothing was sufficient, so was food plentiful. +At the end of each week each family was given 4 lbs. of meat, 1 peck of +meal, and some syrup. Each person in a family was allowed to raise a +garden and so they had vegetables whenever they wished to. In addition +to this they were allowed to raise chickens, to hunt and to fish. +However, none of the food that was secured in any of the ways mentioned +above could be sold. When anyone wished to hunt, Mr. Coxton supplied the +gun and the shot. + +Although the slaves cooked for themselves, their breakfast and dinner +were usually sent to them in the fields after it had been prepared in +the cook house. The reason for this was that they had to get up too soon +in the morning, and at noon too much time would be lost if they were +permitted to go to their cabins for lunch. + +The children who were too young to work in the field were cared for by +some old slave who likewise was unable to do field work. The children +were usually fed pot liquor, corn bread, milk, syrup, and vegetables. +Each one had his individual cup to eat from. The food on Sunday was +usually no different from that of any other day of the week. However, +Mr. Bland says that they never had to break in the smokehouse because of +hunger. + +When asked to describe the living quarters of the slaves on his +plantation he looked around his room and muttered: "Dey wuz a lot better +than dis one." Some of the cabins were made of logs and some of +weatherboards. The chinks in the walls were sealed with mud. In some +instances boards were used on the inside to keep the weather out. There +were usually two windows, shutters being used in the place of window +panes. The chimney and fireplace were made of mud and stones. All +cooking was done at the fireplace as none of them were provided with +stoves. Iron cooking utensils were used. To boil food a pot was hung +over the fire by means of a hook. The remaining furniture was a bench +which served as a chair, and a crude bed. Rope running from side to side +served as bed springs. The mattress was made of straw or hay. For +lighting purposes, pine knots and candles were used. The slaves on the +Coxton plantation were also fortunate in that all cabins had good +floors. All cabins and their furnishings were built by the slaves who +learned the use of hammer and saw from white artisans whom Mr. Coxton +employed from time to time. Mr. Bland remarked that his father was a +blacksmith, having learned the trade in this manner. + +A doctor was employed regularly by Mr. Coxton to minister to the needs +of the slaves in time of illness. "We also had our own medicine," says +Mr. Bland. At different times excursions were made to the woods where +"yarbs" (herbs) were gathered. Various kinds of teas and medicines were +made by boiling these roots in water. The usual causes of illness on +this plantation were colds, fevers, and constipation. Castor oil and +salts were also used to a great extent. If an individual was too ill to +work an older slave had to nurse this person. + +No effort was made by Mr. Coxton to teach his slaves anything except +manual training. A slave who could use his hands at skilled work was +more valuable than the ordinary field hand. If, however, a slave secured +a book, Mr. Coxton would help him learn to read it. Above all, religious +training was not denied. As a matter of fact, Mr. Coxton required each +one of his servants to dress in his Sunday clothes and to go to church +every Sunday. Services for all were held at the white church--the slaves +sitting on one side and the masters on the other. All preaching was done +by a white pastor. + +No promiscuous relationships were allowed. If a man wanted to marry he +merely pointed out the woman of his choice to the master. He in turn +called her and told her that such and such an individual wished her for +a wife. If she agreed they were pronounced man and wife and were +permitted to live together. + +The slaves on his plantation were great believers in roots and their +values in the use of conjuring people. + +Mr. Bland doesn't remember ever seeing anyone sold by Mr. Coxton, but he +heard that on other nearby plantations slaves were placed on an auction +block and sold like cattle. + +None of the slaves were ever whipped or beaten by Mr. Coxton or by +anyone else. If a rule was broken the offender was called before Mr. +Coxton where he was talked to. In some cases a whipping was promised and +that ended the matter. The "Paddie Rollers" whipped the slaves from +other plantations when they were caught off of their premises without a +"pass" but this was never the case when a slave belonging to Mr. Coxton +broke this rule. Mr. Bland remembers that once he and some of his fellow +slaves were away from home without a pass when they were seen by the +"Paddie Rollers" who started after them. When they were recognized as +belonging to Mr. Coxton one of them (Paddie Rollers) said: "Don't bother +them; that's them d---- 'free niggers'." The Paddie Rollers were not +allowed to come on the Coxton plantation to whip his slaves or any other +owner's slaves who happened to be visiting at the time. Mr. Coxton +required that they all be on the plantation by nightfall. + +(The above seems to be rather conclusive proof of Mr. Coxton's influence +in the community.) [TR: Parentheses added by hand.] + +Whenever a slave committed a crime against the State, his master usually +had to pay for the damage done or pay the slave's fine. It was then up +to him to see that the offender was punished. + +Mr. Coxton once saw him (Mr. Bland) beat another slave (who was a guest +at a frolic) when this visitor attempted to draw a pistol on him. Mr. +Bland was upheld in his action and told by Mr. Coxton that he had better +always fight back when anyone struck him, whether the person was white +or black. Further, if he (Mr. Coxton) heard of his not fighting back a +whipping would be in store for him. + +Mr. Coxton was different from some of the slave owners in that he gave +the head of each family spending money at Christmas time--the amount +varying with the size of the family. + +"When the Civil war was begun the master seemed to be worried all the +time" states Mr. Bland. "He was afraid that we would be freed and then +he would have to hire us to do his work." + +When asked to describe his feelings about the war and the possibility of +his being freed, Mr. Bland said that he had no particular feeling of +gladness at all. The outcome of the war did not interest him at all +because Mr. Coxton was such a good master he didn't care whether he was +freed or not. His fellow slaves felt the same way. + +When Sherman and the Yankees were marching through they took all of the +live stock but bothered nothing else. The buildings on the adjoining +plantation were all burned. A small skirmish took place about 2 miles +away from Mr. Coxton's plantation when the Yankees and Confederates met. +Mr. Coxton's two sons took part in the war. + +Mr. Bland was taken by Sherman's army to Savannah and then to Macon. He +says that he saw President Jeff Davis give up his sword to General +Sherman in surrender. + +After the war Mr. Coxton was still well off in spite of the fact that he +had lost quite a bit of money as a result of the war. He saved a great +deal of his cash by burying it when Sherman came through. The cattle +might have been saved if he (Mr. Bland) could have driven them into the +woods before he was seen by some of the soldiers. + +At the close of the war Mr. Coxton informed all the slaves that they +were free to go where they wished, but they all refused to leave. Most +of them died on the plantation. Mr. Bland says that when he became of +age his former master gave him a wagon, two mules, a horse and buggy and +ten pigs. + +Mr. Bland thinks that old age is a characteristic in his family. His +grandmother lived to be 115 years old and his mother 107 years old. +Although in his 80's, Mr. Bland is an almost perfect picture of health. +He thinks that he will live to become at least 100 years old because he +is going to continue to live as sane a life as he has in the past. + + + + +J.R. Jones + +RIAS BODY, Ex-Slave. +Place of birth: Harris County, near Waverly Hall, Georgia +Date of birth: April 9, 1846 +Present residence: 1419-24th Street, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: July 24, 1936 +[JUL 8, 1937] + + +Rias Body was born the slave property of Mr. Ben Body, a Harris County +planter. He states that he was about fifteen years old when the Civil +War started and, many years ago, his old time white folks told him that +April 9, 1846, was the date of his birth. + +The "patarolers," according to "Uncle" Rias, were always quite active in +ante-bellum days. The regular patrol consisted of six men who rode +nightly, different planters and overseers taking turns about to do +patrol duty in each militia district in the County. + +All slaves were required to procure passes from their owners or their +plantation overseers before they could go visiting or leave their home +premises. If the "patarolers" caught a "Nigger" without a pass, they +whipped him and sent him home. Sometimes, however, if the "Nigger" +didn't run and told a straight story, he was let off with a lecture and +a warning. Slave children, though early taught to make themselves +useful, had lots of time for playing and frolicking with the white +children. + +Rias was a great hand to go seining with a certain clique of white boys, +who always gave him a generous or better than equal share of the fish +caught. + +At Christmas, every slave on the Body plantation received a present. The +Negro children received candy, raisins and "nigger-toes", balls, +marbles, etc. + +As for food, the slaves had, with the exception of "fancy trimmins", +about the same food that the whites ate. No darky in Harris County that +he ever heard of ever went hungry or suffered for clothes until after +freedom. + +Every Saturday was a wash day. The clothes and bed linen of all Whites +and Blacks went into wash every Saturday. And "Niggers", whether they +liked it or not, had to "scrub" themselves every Saturday night. + +The usual laundry and toilet soap was a homemade lye product, some of it +a soft-solid, and some as liquid as water. The latter was stored in jugs +and demijohns. Either would "fetch the dirt, or take the hide off"; in +short, when applied "with rag and water, something had to come". + +Many of the Body slaves had wives and husbands living on other +plantations and belonging to other planters. As a courtesy to the +principals of such matrimonial alliances, their owners furnished the men +passes permitting them to visit their wives once or twice a week. +Children born to such unions were the property of the wife's owner; the +father's owner had no claim to them whatsoever. + +"Uncle" Rias used to frequently come to Columbus with his master before +the war, where he often saw "Niggers oxioned off" at the old slave mart +which was located at what is now 1225 Broadway. Negroes to be offered +for sale were driven to Columbus in droves--like cattle--by "Nawthon +speckulatahs". And prospective buyers would visit the "block" +accompanied by doctors, who would feel of, thump, and examine the +"Nigger" to see if sound. A young or middle-aged Negro man, specially or +even well trained in some trade or out-of-the-ordinary line of work, +often sold for from $2000.00 to $4000.00 in gold. Women and "runty +Nigger men" commanded a price of from $600.00 up, each. A good "breedin +oman", though, says "Uncle" Rias, would sometimes sell for as high as +$1200.00. + +Rias Body had twelve brothers, eight of whom were "big buck Niggers," +and older than himself. The planters and "patarolers" accorded these +"big Niggers" unusual privileges--to the end that he estimates that they +"wuz de daddies uv least a hunnert head o' chillun in Harris County +before de war broke out." Some of these children were "scattered" over a +wide area. + +Sin, according to Rias Body, who voices the sentiment of the great +majority of aged Negroes, is that, or everything, which one does and +says "not in the name of the Master". The holy command, "Whatever ye do, +do it in My name," is subjected to some very unorthodox interpretations +by many members of the colored race. Indeed, by their peculiar +interpretation of this command, it is established that "two clean sheets +can't smut", which means that a devout man and woman may indulge in the +primal passion without committing sin. + +The old man rather boasts of the fact that he received a number of +whippings when a slave: says he now knows that he deserved them, "an +thout 'em", he would have no doubt "been hung 'fore he wuz thutty years +ole." + +Among the very old slaves whom he knew as a boy were quite a few whom +the Negroes looked up to, respected, and feared as witches, wizzards, +and magic-workers. These either brought their "learnin" with them from +Africa or absorbed it from their immediate African forebears. Mentally, +these people wern't brilliant, but highly sensitized, and Rias gave "all +sich" as wide a berth as opportunity permitted him, though he knows "dat +dey had secret doins an carrying-ons". In truth, had the Southern Whites +not curbed the mumbo-jumboism of his people, he is of the opinion that +it would not now be safe to step "out his doe at night". + +Incidentally, Rias Body is more fond of rabbit than any other meat "in +de wurrul", and says that he could--if he were able to get them--eat +three rabbits a day, 365 days in the year, and two for breakfast on +Christmas morning. He also states that pork, though killed in the +hottest of July weather, will not spoil if it is packed down in shucked +corn-on-the-cob. This he learned in slavery days when, as a "run-away", +he "knocked a shoat in the head" one summer and tried it--proving it. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +JAMES BOLTON +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Federal Writers' Project +Residency 4 +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Miss Maude Barragan +Residency 13 +Augusta, Georgia + + +"It never was the same on our plantation atter we done laid Mistess +away," said James Bolton, 85 year old mulatto ex-slave. "I ain't never +forget when Mistess died--she had been so good to every nigger on our +plantation. When we got sick, Mistess allus had us tended to. The +niggers on our plantation all walked to church to hear her funeral +sermon and then walked to the graveyard to the buryin'." + +James, shrivelled and wrinkled, with his bright eyes taking in +everything on one of his rare visits to town, seemed glad of the chance +to talk about slavery days. He spoke of his owner as "my employer" and +hastily corrected himself by saying, "I means, my marster." + +"My employer, I means my marster, and my mistess, they was sho' all +right white folkses," he continued. "They lived in the big 'ouse. Hit +was all painted brown. I heard tell they was more'n 900 acres in our +plantation and lots of folkses lived on it. The biggest portion was +woods. My paw, he was name Whitfield Bolton and Liza Bolton was my maw. +Charlie, Edmund, Thomas and John Bolton was my brothers and I had one +sister, she was Rosa. We belonged to Marse Whitfield Bolton and we lived +on his plantation in Oglethorpe County near Lexington, not far from the +Wilkes County line. + +"We stayed in a one room log cabin with a dirt floor. A frame made +outen pine poles was fastened to the wall to hold up the mattresses. Our +mattresses was made outen cotton bagging stuffed with wheat straw. Our +kivers was quilts made outen old clothes. Slave 'omens too old to work +in the fields made the quilts. + +"Maw, she went up to the big house onc't a week to git the 'lowance or +vittles. They 'lowanced us a week's rations at a time. Hit were +generally hog meat, corn meal and sometimes a little flour. Maw, she +done our cookin' on the coals in the fireplace at our cabin. We had +plenty of 'possums and rabbits and fishes and sometimes we had wild +tukkeys and partidges. Slaves warn't spozen to go huntin' at night and +everybody know you can't ketch no 'possums 'ceppin' at night! Jus' the +same, we had plenty 'possums and nobody ax how we cotch 'em!" James +laughed and nodded. "Now, 'bout them rabbits! Slaves warn't 'lowed to +have no guns and no dogs of they own. All the dogs on our plantation +belonged to my employer--I means, to my marster, and he 'lowed us to use +his dogs to run down the rabbits. Nigger mens and boys 'ud go in crowds, +sometimes as many as twelve at one time, and a rabbit ain't got no +chance 'ginst a lot of niggers and dogs when they light out for to run +'im down! + +"What wild critters we wanted to eat and couldn't run down, we was right +smart 'bout ketchin' in traps. We cotch lots of wild tukkeys and +partidges in traps and nets. Long Crick runned through our plantation +and the river warn't no fur piece off. We sho' did ketch the fishes, +mostly cats, and perch and heaps and heaps of suckers. We cotch our +fishes mos'n generally with hook and line, but the carpenters on our +plantation knowed how to make basket traps that sho' nuff did lay in +the fishes! God only knows how long it's been since this old nigger +pulled a big shad out of the river. Ain't no shads been cotch in the +river round here in so long I disremembers when! + +"We didn' have no gardens of our own round our cabins. My employer--I +means, my marster--had one big gyarden for our whole plantation and all +his niggers had to work in it whensomever he wanted 'em to, then he give +'em all plenty good gyarden sass for theyselfs. They was collards and +cabbage and turnips and beets and english peas and beans and onions, and +they was allus some garlic for ailments. Garlic was mostly to cure wums +(worms). They roasted the garlic in the hot ashes and squez the juice +outen it and made the chilluns take it. Sometimes they made poultices +outen garlic for the pneumony. + +"We saved a heap of bark from wild cherry and poplar and black haw and +slippery ellum trees and we dried out mullein leaves. They was all mixed +and brewed to make bitters. Whensomever a nigger got sick, them bitters +was good for--well ma'am, they was good for what ailed 'em! We tuk 'em +for rheumatiz, for fever, and for the misery in the stummick and for +most all sorts of sickness. Red oak bark tea was good for sore throat. + +"I never seed no store bought clothes twel long atter freedom done come! +One slave 'oman done all the weavin' in a separate room called the 'loom +house.' The cloth was dyed with home-made coloring. They used indigo for +blue, red oak bark for brown, green husks offen warnicks (walnuts) for +black, and sumacs for red and they'd mix these colors to make other +colors. Other slave 'omans larned to sew and they made all the clothes. +Endurin' the summertime we jus' wore shirts and pants made outen plain +cotton cloth. They wove wool in with the cotton to make the cloth for +our winter clothes. The wool was raised right thar on our plantation. We +had our own shoemaker man--he was a slave named Buck Bolton and he made +all the shoes the niggers on our plantation wore. + +"I waren't nothin' but chillun when freedom come. In slavery-time +chilluns waren't 'lowed to do no wuk kazen the marsters wanted they +niggers to grow up big and strong and didn' want 'em stunted none. Tha's +howcome I didn' git no mo' beatin's than I did! My employer--I means, my +marster, never did give me but one lickin'. He had done told me to watch +the cows and keep 'em in the pastur'. I cotch lots of grasshoppers and +started fishin' in the crick runnin' through the pastur' and fust thing +I knowed, the overseer was roundin' up all the other niggers to git the +cows outen the cornfields! I knowed then my time had done come!" + +James was enjoying the spotlight now, and his audience did not have to +prompt him. Plantation recollections crowded together in his old mind. + +"We had one overseer at a time," he said, "and he allus lived at the big +'ouse. The overseers warn't quality white folkses like our marster and +mistess but we never heard nuffin' 'bout no poor white trash in them +days, and effen we had heard sumpin' like that we'd have knowed better'n +to let Marster hear us make such talk! Marster made us call his overseer +'Mister.' We had one overseer named Mr. Andrew Smith and another time +we had a overseer named Mr. Pope Short. Overseers was jus' there on the +business of gettin' the work done--they seed atter everybody doin' his +wuk 'cordin' to order. + +"My employer--I means, my marster, never 'lowed no overseer to whup none +of his niggers! Marster done all the whuppin' on our plantation hisself. +He never did make no big bruises and he never drawed no blood, but he +sho' could burn 'em up with that lash! Niggers on our plantation was +whupped for laziness mostly. Next to that, whuppings was for stealin' +eggs and chickens. They fed us good and plenty but a nigger is jus' +bound to pick up chickens and eggs effen he kin, no matter how much he +done eat! He jus' can't help it. Effen a nigger ain't busy he gwine to +git into mischief! + +"Now and then slaves 'ud run away and go in the woods and dig dens and +live in 'em. Sometimes they runned away on 'count of cruel treatment, +but most of the time they runned away kazen they jus' didn't want to +wuk, and wanted to laze around for a spell. The marsters allus put the +dogs atter 'em and git 'em back. They had black and brown dogs called +'nigger hounds' what waren't used for nothin' but to track down niggers. + +"They waren't no such place as a jail whar we was. Effen a nigger done +sumpin' disorderly they jus' natcherly tuk a lash to 'im. I ain't never +seed no nigger in chains twel long atter freedom done come when I seed +'em on the chain gangs. + +"The overseer woke us up at sunrise--leas'n they called it sunrise! We +would finish our vittles and be in the fields ready for wuk befo' we +seed any sun! We laid off wuk at sunset and they didn't drive us hard. +Leas'wise, they didn' on our plantation. I done heard they was moughty +hard on 'em on other plantations. My marster never did 'low his niggers +to wuk atter sundown. My employer, I means my marster, didn't have no +bell. He had 'em blow bugles to wake up his hands and to call 'em from +the fields. Sometimes the overseer blowed it. Mistess done larned the +cook to count the clock, but none of the rest of our niggers could count +the clock. + +"I never knowed Marster to sell but one slave and he jus' had bought her +from the market at New Orleans. She say it lonesome off on the +plantation and axed Marster for to sell her to folkses livin' in town. +Atter he done sold her, every time he got to town she beg 'im to buy her +back! But he didn' pay her no more 'tention. When they had sales of +slaves on the plantations they let everybody know what time the sale +gwine to be. When the crowd git togedder they put the niggers on the +block and sell 'em. Leas'wise, they call it 'puttin' on the block'--they +jus' fotch 'em out and show 'em and sell 'em. + +"They waren't no church for niggers on our plantation and we went to +white folkses church and listened to the white preachers. We set behind +a partition. Sometimes on a plantation a nigger claim he done been +called to preach and effen he kin git his marster's cawn-sent he kin +preach round under trees and in cabins when t'aint wuk time. These +nigger preachers in slavery time was called 'chairbackers.' They waren't +no chairbackers 'lowed to baptize none of Marster's niggers. White +preachers done our baptizin' in Long Crick. When we went to be baptized +they allus sang, 'Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound!'" + +The old negro's quavery voice rose in the familiar song. For a moment he +sat thinking of those long-ago Sundays. His eyes brightened again, and +he went on: + +"We never done no wuk on Sundays on our plantation. The church was 'bout +nine miles from the plantation and we all walked there. Anybody too old +and feeble to walk the nine miles jus' stayed home, kazen Marster didn't +'low his mules used none on Sunday. All along the way niggers from other +plantations 'ud jine us and sometimes befo' we git to the church house +they'd be forty or fifty slaves comin' along the road in a crowd! +Preaching generally lasted twel bout three o'clock. In summertime we had +dinner on the ground at the church. Howsomever we didn' have no barbecue +like they does now. Everybody cooked enough on Sadday and fotched it in +baskets. + +"I was thirty years old when I jined the church. Nobody ought to jine no +church twels't he is truly borned of God, and effen he is truly borned +of God he gwine know it. Effen you want a restin' place atter you leaves +this old world you ought to git ready for it now! + +"When folkses on our plantation died Marster allus let many of us as +wanted to go, lay offen wuk twel atter the buryin'. Sometimes it were +two or three months atter the buryin' befo' the funeral sermon was +preached. Right now I can't rekelleck no song we sung at funerals cep'n +'Hark from the tombs a doleful sound.'" + +The reedy old voice carried the funeral hymn for a few minutes and then +trailed off. James was thinking back into the past again. + +"Spring plowin' and hoein' times we wukked all day Saddays, but mos'en +generally we laid off wuk at twelve o'clock Sadday. That was dinnertime. +Sadday nights we played and danced. Sometimes in the cabins, sometimes +in the yards. Effen we didn' have a big stack of fat kindling wood lit +up to dance by, sometimes the mens and 'omans would carry torches of +kindling wood whils't they danced and it sho' was a sight to see! We +danced the 'Turkey Trot' and 'Buzzard Lope', and how we did love to +dance the 'Mary Jane!' We would git in a ring and when the music started +we would begin wukkin' our footses while we sang 'You steal my true love +and I steal your'n!' + +"Atter supper we used to gether round and knock tin buckets and pans, we +beat 'em like drums. Some used they fingers and some used sticks for to +make the drum sounds and somebody allus blowed on quills. Quills was a +row of whistles made outen reeds, or sometimes they made 'em outen bark. +Every whistle in the row was a different tone and you could play any +kind of tune you wants effen you had a good row of quills. They sho' did +sound sweet! + +"'Bout the most fun we had was at corn shuckin's whar they put the corn +in long piles and called in the folkses from the plantations nigh round +to shuck it. Sometimes four or five hunnert head of niggers 'ud be +shuckin' corn at one time. When the corn all done been shucked they'd +drink the likker the marsters give 'em and then frolic and dance from +sundown to sunup. We started shuckin' corn 'bout dinnertime and tried to +finish by sundown so we could have the whole night for frolic. Some +years we 'ud go to ten or twelve corn shuckin's in one year! + +"We would sing and pray Easter Sunday and on Easter Monday we frolicked +and danced all day long! Christmas we allus had plenty good sumpin' to +eat and we all got togedder and had lots of fun. We runned up to the big +'ouse early Christmas mornin' and holler out: 'Mornin', Christmas Gif'!' +Then they'd give us plenty of Sandy Claus and we would go back to our +cabins to have fun twel New Year's day. We knowed Christmas was over and +gone when New Year's day come, kazen we got back to wuk that day atter +frolickin' all Christmas week. + +"We didn' know nuttin' 'bout games to play. We played with the white +folkses chilluns and watched atter 'em but most of the time we played in +the crick what runned through the pastur'. Nigger chilluns was allus +skeered to go in the woods atter dark. Folkses done told us +Raw-Head-and-Bloody Bones lived in the woods and git little chilluns and +eat 'em up effen they got out in the woods atter dark! + +"'Rockabye baby in the tree trops' was the onliest song I heard my maw +sing to git her babies to sleep. Slave folkses sung most all the time +but we didn' think of what we sang much. We jus' got happy and started +singin'. Sometimes we 'ud sing effen we felt sad and lowdown, but soon +as we could, we 'ud go off whar we could go to sleep and forgit all +'bout trouble!" James nodded his gray head with a wise look in his +bright eyes. "When you hear a nigger singin' sad songs hit's jus' kazen +he can't stop what he is doin' long enough to go to sleep!" + +The laughter that greeted this sally brought an answering grin to the +wrinkled old face. Asked about marriage customs, James said: + +"Folkses didn' make no big to-do over weddings like they do now. When +slaves got married they jus' laid down the broom on the floor and the +couple jined hands and jumped back-uds over the broomstick. I done seed +'em married that way many a time. Sometimes my marster would fetch +Mistess down to the slave quarters to see a weddin'. Effen the slaves +gittin' married was house servants, sometimes they married on the back +porch or in the back yard at the big 'ouse but plantation niggers what +was field hands married in they own cabins. The bride and groom jus' +wore plain clothes kazen they didn' have no more. + +"When the young marsters and mistesses at the big houses got married +they 'lowed the slaves to gadder on the porch and peep through the +windows at the weddin'. Mos'en generally they 'ud give the young couple +a slave or two to take with them to they new home. My marster's chilluns +was too young to git married befo' the war was over. They was seven of +them chilluns; four of 'em was gals. + +"What sort of tales did they tell 'mongs't the slaves 'bout the Norf +befo' the war? To tell the troof, they didn't talk much like they does +now 'bout them sort of things. None of our niggers ever runned away and +we didn' know nuthin' 'bout no Norf twel long atter freedom come. We +visited round each other's cabins at night. I did hear tell 'bout the +patterollers. Folkses said effen they cotched niggers out at night they +'ud give 'em 'what Paddy give the drum'. + +"Jus' befo' freedom comed 'bout 50 Yankee sojers come through our +plantation and told us that the bull-whups and cow-hides was all dead +and buried. Them sojers jus' passed on in a hurry and didn' stop for a +meal or vittles or nuffin'. We didn't talk much 'bout Mr. Abbieham +Lincum endurin' slavery time kazen we was skeered of him atter the war +got started. I don't know nothin' 'bout Mr. Jef'son Davis, I don't +remember ever hearin' 'bout him. I is heard about Mr. Booker Washin'ton +and they do say he runned a moughty good school for niggers. + +"One mornin' Marster blowed the bugle his own self and called us all up +to the big 'ouse yard. He told us: 'You all jus' as free as I is. You +are free from under the taskmarster but you ain't free from labor. You +gotter labor and wuk hard effen you aims to live and eet and have +clothes to wear. You kin stay here and wuk for me, or you kin go +wharsomever you please.' He said he 'ud pay us what was right, and Lady, +hit's the troof, they didn't nary a nigger on our plantation leave our +marster then! I wukked on with Marster for 40 years atter the war!" + +James had no fear of the Ku Klux. + +"Right soon atter the war we saw plenty of Ku Kluxers but they never +bothered nobody on our plantation. They allus seemed to be havin' heaps +of fun. 'Course, they did have to straighten out some of them brash +young nigger bucks on some of the other farms round about. Mos' of the +niggers the Ku Kluxers got atter was'n on no farm, but was jus' roamin' +'round talkin' too much and makin' trouble. They had to take 'em in hand +two or three times befo' some of them fool free niggers could be larned +to behave theyselfs! But them Ku Kluxers kept on atter 'em twels't they +larned they jus got to be good effen they 'spects to stay round here. + +"Hit was about 40 years atter the war befo' many niggers 'gun to own +they own lan'. They didn' know nothin' 'bout tendin' to money business +when the war done ended and it take 'em a long time to larn how to buy +and sell and take care of what they makes." James shook his head sadly. +"Ma'am, heaps of niggers ain't never larned nothin' 'bout them things +yit! + +"A long time atter the war I married Lizy Yerby. I didn' give Liza no +chanc't for to dress up. Jus' went and tuk her right outer the white +folkses' kitchen and married her at the church in her workin' clothes. +We had 13 chilluns but they ain't but two of 'em livin' now. Mos' of our +chilluns died babies. Endurin' slavery Mistess tuk care of all the +nigger babies borned on our plantations and looked atter they mammies +too, but atter freedom come heap of nigger babies died out." + +James said he had two wives, both widows. + +"I married my second wife 37 years ago. To tell the troof, I don't +rightly know how many grandchilluns I got, kazen I ain't seed some of +'em for thirty years. My chilluns is off fum here and I wouldn' know to +save my life whar they is or what they does. My sister and brothers they +is done dead out what ain't gone off, I don't know for sho' whar none of +'em is now." + +A sigh punctuated James' monologue, and his old face was shadowed by a +look of fear. + +"Now I gwine tell you the troof. Now that it's all over I don't find +life so good in my old age, as it was in slavery time when I was chillun +down on Marster's plantation. Then I didn' have to worry 'bout whar my +clothes and my somepin' to eat was comin' from or whar I was gwine to +sleep. Marster tuk keer of all that. Now I ain't able for to wuk and +make a livin' and hit's sho' moughty hard on this old nigger." + + + + +ALEC BOSTWICK +Ex-Slave--Age 76 + +[TR: Preceding page that would usually contain information regarding the +interview was marked 'Placeholder'.] + + +All of Uncle Alec Bostwick's people are dead and he lives in his tiny +home with a young Negress named Emma Vergal. It was a beautiful April +morning when his visitor arrived and while he was cordial enough he +seemed very reluctant about talking. However, as one question followed +another his interest gradually overcame his hesitancy and he began to +unfold his life's story. + +"I wuz born in Morgan County, an' I warn't mo' dan four year old when de +War ended so I don't ricollect nothin' 'bout slav'ry days. I don't know +much 'bout my ma, but her name was Martha an' pa's name was Jordan +Bostwick, I don't know whar dey come from. When I knowed nothin' I wuz +dar on de plantation. I had three brothers; George, John an' Reeje, an' +dey's all dead. I dis'members my sister's name. Dar warn't but one gal +an' she died when she wuz little. + +"Ain't much to tell 'bout what wuz done in de quarters. Slaves wuz +gyarded all de time jus' lak Niggers on de chain gang now. De overseer +always sot by wid a gun. + +"'Bout de beds, Nigger boys didn't pay no 'tention to sich as dat 'cause +all dey keered 'bout wuz a place to sleep but 'peers lak to me dey wuz +corded beds, made wid four high posties, put together wid iron pegs, an' +holes what you run de cords thoo', bored in de sides. De cords wuz made +out of b'ar grass woun' tight together. Dey put straw an' old quilts on +'em, an' called 'em beds. + +"Gran'pa Berry wuz too old to wuk in de field so he stayed 'roun' de +house an' piddled. He cut up wood, tended to de gyarden an' yard, an' +bottomed chairs. Gran'ma Liza done de cookin' an' nussed de white +folkses chilluns. + +"I wukked in de field 'long side da rest of de Niggers, totin' water an' +sich lak, wid de overseer dar all de time wid dat gun. + +"What you talkin' 'bout Miss? Us didn't have no money. Sho' us didn't. +Dey had to feed us an' plenty of it, 'cause us couldn't wuk if dey +didn't feed us good. + +"Us et cornbread, sweet 'tatoes, peas, home-made syrup an' sich lak. De +meat wuz fried sometimes, but mos' of de time it wuz biled wid de +greens. All de somethin' t'eat wuz cooked in de fireplace. Dey didn't +know what stoves wuz in dem days. Yes Ma'am, us went 'possum huntin' at +night, an' us had plenty 'possums too. Dey put sweet 'tatoes an' fat +meat roun' 'em, an' baked 'em in a oven what had eyes on each side of it +to put hooks in to take it off de fire wid. + +"No Ma'am, us didn't go fishin', or rabbit huntin' nuther. Us had to wuk +an' warn't no Nigger 'lowed to do no frolickin' lak dat in daytime. De +white folkses done all de fishin' an' daytime huntin'. I don't 'member +lakin' no sartin' somethin'. I wuz jus' too glad to git anythin'. Slaves +didn't have no gyardens of dey own. Old Marster had one big gyarden what +all de slaves et out of. + +"Tell you 'bout our clo'es: us wore home-made clo'es, pants an' shirts +made out of cotton in summer an' in de winter dey give us mo' home-made +clo'es only dey wuz made of wool. All de clawf wuz made on de loom right +dar on de plantation. Us wore de same things on Sunday what us did in de +week, no diffunt. Our shoes wuz jus' common brogans what dey made at +home. I ain't seed no socks 'til long atter de War. Co'se some folkses +mought a had 'em, but us didn't have none. + +"Marster Berry Bostwick an' Mist'ess Mary Bostwick, had a passel of +chillun, I don't 'member none 'cept young Marse John. De others drifted +off an' didn't come back, but young Marse John stayed on wid Old Marster +an' Old Mist'ess 'til dey died. Old Marster, he warn't good. Truth is de +light, an' he wuz one mean white man. Old Mist'ess wuz heaps better dan +him. Dar wuz 'bout 150 mens an' 75 'omans. I couldn't keep up wid de +chilluns. Dere wuz too many for me. + +"Marster an' Mist'ess lived in a big fine house, but de slave quarters +wuz made of logs, 'bout de size of box cyars wid two rooms. + +"'Bout dat overseer he wuz a mean man, if one ever lived. He got de +slaves up wid a gun at five o'clock an' wukked 'em 'til way atter +sundown, standin' right over 'em wid a gun all de time. If a Nigger +lagged or tuk his eyes off his wuk, right den an' dar he would make him +strip down his clo'es to his waist, an' he whup him wid a cat-o-nine +tails. Evvy lick dey struck him meant he wuz hit nine times, an' it +fotch da red evvy time it struck. + +"Oh! Yes Ma'am, dey had a cyar'iage driver, he didn't do much 'cept look +attar de hawses an' drive de white folkses 'roun'. + +"I done tole you 'bout dat overseer; all he done wuz sot 'roun' all day +wid a gun an' make de Niggers wuk. But I'se gwine tell you de trufe, he +sho' wuz poor white trash wid a house full of snotty-nose chilluns. Old +Marster tole him he wuz jus' lak a rabbit, he had so many chillun. I +means dis; if dem days comes back I hope de good Lord takes me fus'. + +"Dey had a house whar dey put de Niggers, what wuz called de gyard +house, an' us didn't know nothin' 'bout no jail dat day an' time. I seed +'em drive de Niggers by old Marster's place in droves takin' 'em to +Watkinsville. Morgan County, whar us lived, touched Oconee an' dat wuz +the nighes' town. One day I went wid old Marster to Watkinsville an' I +seed 'em sell Niggers on de block. I warn't sold. When I knowed nothin' +I wuz right whar I wuz at. + +"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for de Niggers in dem days. If a Nigger +wuz seed wid a paper, de white folks would pretty nigh knock his head +off him. + +"Us didn't have no church in de country for Niggers, an' dey went to +church wid deir white folkses, if dey went a tall. De white folks sot in +front, an' de Niggers sot in de back. All de time dat overseer wuz right +dar wid his gun. When dey baptized de Niggers dey tuk 'em down to de +river and plunged 'em in, while dem what had done been baptized sang: +"Dar's a Love Feast in Heb'en Today." + +"Yes Ma'am, de white folkses had deir cemetery, an' dey had one for de +slaves. When dere wuz a funeral 'mong de Niggers us sung: + + 'Dark was de night + And cold was de groun' + Whar my Marster was laid + De drops of sweat + Lak blood run down + In agony He prayed.' + +"Dem coffins sho' wuz mournful lookin' things, made out of pine boa'ds +an' painted wid lampblack; dey wuz black as de night. Dey wuz big at de +head an' little at de foot, sort a lak airplanes is. De inside wuz lined +wid white clawf, what dey spun on de plantation. + +"De patterollers wuz right on dey job. Slaves use' to frame up on 'em if +dey knowed whar dey wuz hidin', 'waitin' to cotch a Nigger. Dey would +git hot ashes an' dash over 'em, an' dem patterollers dey sho' would +run, but de slaves would git worse dan dat, if dey was cotched. + +"Miss, in slav'ry time when Niggers come from de fields at night dey +warn't no frolickin'. Dey jus' went to sleep. De mens wukked all day +Sadday, but de 'omans knocked off at twelve o'clock to wash an' sich +lak. + +"Christmas times dey give us a week off an' brung us a little candy an' +stuff 'roun'. Not much, not much. On New Year's Day us had to git back +on de job. + +"Chilluns what wuz big enough to wuk didn't have time in week days to +play no games on Marse Bostwick's place. On Sunday us played wid marbles +made out of clay, but dat's all. I heered my ma sing a little song to de +baby what soun' lak dis: + + 'Hush little baby + Don't you cry + You'll be an angel + Bye-an'-bye.' + +"Yes Ma'am, dere wuz one thing dey wuz good 'bout. When de Niggers got +sick dey sont for de doctor. I heered 'em say dey biled jimson weeds an' +made tea for colds, an' rhubarb tea wuz to cure worms in chillun. I wuz +too young to be bothered 'bout witches an' charms, Rawhead an' Bloody +Bones an' sich. I didn't take it in. + +"When de Yankees come thoo' an' 'lowed us wuz free, us thought dey wuz +jus' dem patterollers, an' us made for de woods. Dey tole us to come +out, dat us wuz free Niggers. Marster Berry said: 'You dam Niggers am +free. You don't b'long to me no more.' + +"Us married long time atter de War, an' us had a little feast: cake, +wine, fried chicken, an' ham, an' danced 'til 'mos' daybreak. I 'members +how good she looked wid dat pretty dove colored dress, all trimmed wid +lace. Us didn't have no chillun. She wuz lak a tree what's sposen to +bear fruit an' don't. She died 'bout thirteen years ago. + +"When de Ku Kluxers come thoo', us chillun thought de devil wuz atter us +for sho'. I wuz sich a young chap I didn't take in what dey said 'bout +Mr. Abyham Lincoln, an' Mr. Jeff Davis. Us would a been slaves 'til yit, +if Mr. Lincoln hadn't sot us free. Dey wuz bofe of 'em, good mens. I +sho' had ruther be free. Who wants a gun over 'em lak a prisoner? A +pusson is better off dead. + +"I jined de church 'cause dis is a bad place at de bes' an' dere's so +many mean folkses, what's out to seem good an' ain't. An' if you serve +God in de right way, I'se sho' when you die he'll give you a place to +rest for evermore. An' 'cordin' to my notion dat's de way evvybody +oughta live." + +In conclusion, Alec said: "I don't want to talk no more. I'se +disappointed, I thought sho' you wuz one of dem pension ladies what come +for to fetch me some money. I sho' wish dey would come. Good-bye Miss." +Then he hobbled into the house. + + + + +Barragan-Harris +[TR: Miss Maude Barragan (interviewer), Mrs. Leila Harris (editor)] + +NANCY BOUDRY, THOMSON, GEORGIA + + +"If I ain't a hunnard," said Nancy, nodding her white-turbaned head, "I +sho' is close to it, 'cause I got a grandson 50 years old." + +Nancy's silky white hair showed long and wavy under her headband. Her +gingham dress was clean, and her wrinkled skin was a reddish-yellow +color, showing a large proportion of Indian and white blood. Har eyes +ware a faded blue. + +"I speck I is mos' white," acknowledged Nancy, "but I ain't never knowed +who my father was. My mother was a dark color." + +The cottage faced the pine grove behind an old church. Pink ramblers +grew everywhere, and the sandy yard was neatly kept. Nancy's paralyzed +granddaughter-in-law hovered in the doorway, her long smooth braids +hanging over Indian-brown shoulders, a loose wrapper of dark blue denim +flowing around her tall unsteady figure. She was eager to taka part in +the conversation but hampered by a thick tongue induced, as Nancy put +it, "by a bad sore throat she ain't got over." + +Nancy's recollections of plantation days were colored to a somber hue by +overwork, childbearing, poor food and long working hours. + +"Master was a hard taskmaster," said Nancy. "My husband didn't live on +de same plantation where I was, de Jerrell places in Columbia County. He +never did have nuthin' to give me 'cause he never got nuthin'. He had to +come and ask my white folks for me. Dey had to carry passes everywhere +dey went, if dey didn't, dey'd git in trouble. + +"I had to work hard, plow and go and split wood jus' like a man. +Sometimes dey whup me. Dey whup me bad, pull de cloes off down to de +wais'--my master did it, our folks didn' have overseer. + +"We had to ask 'em to let us go to ohurch. Went to white folks church, +'tell de black folks get one of dere own. No'm I dunno how to read. +Never had no schools at all, didn' 'low us to pick up a piece paper and +look at it." + +"Nancy, wasn't your mistress kind to you?" + +"Mistis was sorta kin' to me, sometimes. But dey only give me meat and +bread, didn' give me nothin' good--I ain' gwine tell no story. I had a +heap to undergo wid. I had to scour at night at de Big House--two planks +one night, two more de nex'. De women peoples spun at night and reeled, +so many cuts a night. Us had to git up befo' daybreak be ready to go to +de fiel's. + +"My master didn' have but three cullud people, dis yuh was what I stayed +wid, my young master, had not been long married and dus' de han's dey +give him when he marry was all he had. + +"Didn' have no such house as dis," Nancy looked into the open door of +the comfortable octtage, "sometimes dey have a house built, it would be +daubed. Dus' one family, didn' no two families double up." + +"But the children had a good time, didn't they? They played games?" + +"Maybe dey did play ring games, I never had no time to see what games my +chillus play, I work so hard. Heap o' little chillun slep' on de flo'. +Never had no frolics neither, no ma'm, and didn' go to none. We would +have prayer meetings on Saturday nights, and one might in de week us had +a chairback preacher, and sometimes a regular preacher would come in." + +Nancy did not remember ever having seen the Patterollers. + +"I hearn talk of 'em you know, heap o' times dey come out and make out +like dey gwine shoot you at night, dey mus' been Patterollers, dey was +gettin' hold of a heap of 'em." + +"What did you do about funerals, Nancy?" + +"Dey let us knock off for funerals, I tell de truth. Us stay up all +night, singin' and prayin'. Dey make de coffin outter pine boards." + +"Did you suffer during the war?" + +"We done de bes' we could, we et what we could get, sometimes didn' have +nothin' to eat but piece of cornbread, but de white folks allus had +chicken." + +"But you had clothes to wear?" + +"Us had clothes 'cause we spun de thread and weaved 'em. Dey bought dem +dere great big ole brogans where you couldn' hardly walk in 'em. Not +like dese shoes I got on." Nancy thrust out her foot, easy in "Old +Ladies' Comforts." + +"When they told you were free, Nancy, did the master appear to be +angry?" + +"No'm, white folks didn' 'pear to be mad. My master dus' tole us we was +free. Us moved right off, but not so far I couldn' go backwards and +forwards to see 'um." (So it was evident that even if Nancy's life had +been hard, there was a bond between her and her former owners.) "I didn' +do no mo' work for 'um, I work for somebody else. Us rented land and +made what we could, so we could have little somethin' to eat. I scoured +and waited on white people in town, got little piece of money, and was +dus' as proud!" + +Nancy savored the recollection of her first earned money a moment, +thinking back to the old days. + +"I had a preacher for my second marriage," she continued, "Fo' chillun +died on me--one girl, de yuthers was babies. White doctor tended me." + +Asked about midwifery, Nancy smiled. + +"I was a midwife myself, to black and white, after freedom. De Thomson +doctors all liked me and tole people to 'git Nancy.' I used 'tansy +tea'--heap o' little root--made black pepper tea, fotch de pains on 'em. +When I would git to de place where I had a hard case, I would send for +de doctor, and he would help me out, yes, doctor help me out of all of +'em." + +Asked about signs and superstitions, Nancy nodded. + +"I have seed things. Day look dus' like a person, walkin' in de woods. I +would look off and look back to see it again and it be gone." Nancy +lowered her voice mysteriously, and looked back into the little room +where Vanna's unsteady figure moved from bed to chair. "I seed a coffin +floatin' in de air in dat room--" she shivered, "and I heard a heap o' +knockings. I dunno what it bees--but de sounds come in de house. I runs +ev'y squeech owl away what comes close, too." Nancy clasped her hands, +right thumb over left thumb, "does dat--and it goes on away--dey quits +hollerin', you chokin' 'em when you does dat." + +"Do you plant by the moon, Nancy?" + +"Plant when de moon change, my garden, corn, beans. I planted some beans +once on de wrong time of de moon and dey didn' bear nothing--I hated it +so bad, I didn' know what to do, so I been mindful ever since when I +plant. Women peoples come down on de moon, too. I ain't know no signs to +raise chillun. I whup mine when dey didn' do right, I sho' did. I didn' +'low my chillun to take nothin'--no aigs and nothin' 'tall and bring 'em +to my house. I say 'put dem right whar you git 'em." + +"Did you sing spirituals, Nancy?" + +"I sang regular meetin' songs," she said, "like 'lay dis body down' and +'let yo' joys be known'--but I can't sing now, not any mo'." + +Nancy was proud of her quilt-making ability. + +"Git 'um, Vanna, let de ladies see 'um," she said; and when Vanna +brought the gay pieces made up in a "double-burst" (sunburst) pattern, +Nancy fingered the squares with loving fingers. "Hit's pooty, ain't it?" +she asked wistfully, "I made one for a white lady two years ago, but dey +hurts my fingers now--makes 'em stiff." + + + + +FOLKLORE INTERVIEW + +ALICE BRADLEY +Hull Street near Corner of Hoyt Street +Athens, Georgia + +KIZZIE COLQUITT +243 Macon Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Grace McCune +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Mrs. Leila Harris +Editor +Federal Writers' Project +Augusta, Georgia +[APR 20 1938] + +[TR: These two interviews were filed together, though not recorded at +the same place or time.] + + +Alice Bradley + +Alice Bradley, or "Aunt Alice" as she is known to everybody, "runs +cards" and claims to be a seeress. Apologetic and embarrassed because +she had overslept and was straightening her room, she explained that she +hadn't slept well because a dog had howled all night and she was uneasy +because of this certain forerunner of disaster. + +"Here t'is Sunday mornin' and what wid my back, de dog, and de +rheumatics in my feets, its [TR: 'done' crossed out] too late to go to +church, so come in honey I'se glad to hab somebody to talk to. Dere is +sho' goin' to be a corpse close 'round here. One night a long time ago +two dogs howled all night long and on de nex' Sunday dere wuz two +corpses in de church at de same time. Dat's one sign dat neber fails, +when a dog howls dat certain way somebody is sho' goin' to be daid." + +When asked what her full name was, she said: "My whole name is Alice +Bradley now. I used to be a Hill, but when I married dat th'owed me out +of bein' a Hill, so I'se jus' a Bradley now. I wuz born on January 14th +but I don't 'member what year. My ma had three chillun durin' de war and +one jus' atter de war. I think dat las' one wuz me, but I ain't sho'. My +pa's name wuz Jim Hill, and ma's name wuz Ca'line Hill. Both of 'em is +daid now. Pa died October 12, 1896 and wuz 88 years old. Ma died +November 20, 1900; she wuz 80 years old. I knows dem years is right +'cause I got 'em from dat old fambly Bible so I kin git 'em jus' right. +One of my sisters, older dan I is, stays in Atlanta wid her son. Since +she los' one of her sons, her mind's done gone. My other sister ain't as +old as I is but her mind is all right and she is well." + +"I wuz raised in Washin'ton, Wilkes County, and de fust I 'members was +stayin' wid Miss Alice Rayle. She had three chillun and I nussed 'em. +One of de boys is a doctor now, and has a fambly of his own, and de las' +I heared of 'im, he wuz stayin' in Atlanta. + +"I'se been married' two times. I runned away wid Will Grisham, when I +wuz 'bout 14 years old. Mr. Carter, a Justice of de Peace, met us under +a 'simmon tree and tied de knot right dar. My folks ketched us, but us +wuz already married and so it didn't make no diffunce. + +"I lived on a farm wid my fust husband, and us had three chillun, but +dey is all gone now. I 'members when my oldes' gal wuz 'bout 2 years +old, dey wuz playin' out on de porch wid dey little dog, when a mad dog +come by and bit my chillun's dog. Folks kilt our dog, and jus' 'bout one +week atterwards my little gal wuz daid too. She did love dat little dog, +and he sho' did mind 'er. She jus' grieved herself to death 'bout dat +dog. + +"Atter my fust husband died, I married Rich Bradley. Rich wuz a railroad +man, and he went off to Washin'ton, D.C., to wuk. He sont me money all +de time den, but when he went from dar to Shecargo to wuk I didn't hear +from 'im long, and I don't know what's happened to 'im 'til now, for +it's been a long time since I heared from 'im. + +"I loves to run de cyards for my friends. I always tells 'em when I sees +dere's trouble in de cyards for 'em, and shows 'em how to git 'round it, +if I kin. None of de res' of my folks ever run de cyards, but I'se been +at it ever since I wuz jus' a little gal, pickin' up old wore out +cyards, dat had bean th'owed away, 'cause I could see things in 'em. I +'members one time when I wuz small and didn't know so good what de +cyards wuz tellin' me, dat a rich man, one of de riches' in Wilkes +County, wuz at our place, I tol 'im de cyards when I run 'em. I saw +sompin' wuz goin' to happen on his place, dat two colored mens would be +tangled up wid, but I didn't know jus' what wuz goin' to happen. And +sho' 'nuff, two colored mens sot fire to his barns and burned up all his +horses and mules, de onlies' thing dey saved wuz one ridin' horse. Dey +ketched de mens, and dey served time for what dey done. One of 'em died +way out yonder where dey sont 'em. + +"I 'members one white lady way out in Alabama sont a note axin' me to +run de cyards for her. I runned 'em and got one of my friends to writer +her what I seed. Dey had run bright and dat wuz good luck. One time I +runned de cyards for two sisters dat had done married two brothers, and +de cyards run so close kin date I wuz able to tell 'em how dey wuz +married and dey tol me dat I wuz right. + +"And jus' a few days ago a old man come to see me thinkin' dat he wuz +pizened. When I runned de cyards, I seed his trouble. He had been +drinkin' and wuz sick, so I jus' give him a big dose of soda and cream +of tartar and he got better. Den I tole him to go on home; dat nobody +hadn't done nothin' to 'im and all he needed wuz a little medicine. + +"I told Mr. Dick Armell of how he wuz goin' to git kilt if he went up in +his airyplane dat day and begged him not to try it but to wait. He +wouldn't listen and went on and got kilt jus' lak I tole 'im he would. +I runned de cyards for Mrs. Armell lots of times for I liked 'im, and he +wuz a fine man. I runned de cyards for 'im one time 'fore he went to de +World's Fair, and de cyards run bright, and his trip wuz a good one jus' +lak I tole 'im it would be. + +"All de old white folks dat I wuz raised up wid, de Hills from +Washin'ton, Wilkes, is gone now, 'cept I think one of de gals is wukin' +at de capitol in Atlanta, but she done married now and I don't 'member +her name." + +Alice excused herself to answer a knock at the door. Upon her return she +said: "Dat wuz one of my white chillun. I wukked for 'em so long and one +of 'em comes by every now an' den to see if I needs sompin'. Her ma done +had a new picture of herself took and wanted me to see it. Dey sho' is +good to me." + +Alice doesn't charge for "running the cards." She says she doesn't have +a license, and is very thankful for anything that visitors may care to +give her. She will not run the cards on Sunday. "Dat's bad luck," she +said. "Come back some day when tain't Sunday, and I'll see whats in de +cyards for you!" + + +Kizzie Colquitt + +Old Aunt Kizzie Colquitt, about 75 years old, was busily washing in her +neat kitchen. She opened the door and window frequently to let out the +smoke, saying: "Dis old wore out stove don't draw so good." Her hands +and feet were badly swollen and she seemed to be suffering. + +"I'll be glad to tell all I kin 'member 'bout dem old times," she said. +"I wuz borned durin' de war, but I don't 'member what year. My pa wuz +Mitchell Long. He b'longed to Marster Sam Long of Elbert County. Us +lived on Broad River. My ma wuz Sallie Long, and she b'longed to Marster +Billie Lattimore. Dey stayed on de other side of Broad River and my pa +and ma had to cross de river to see one another. Atter de war wuz over, +and dey wuz free, my pa went to Jefferson, Georgia, and dar he died. + +"My ma married some nigger from way out in Indiana. He promised her he +would send money back for her chillun, but us never heered nothin' from +'im no mo'. I wuz wid' my w'ite folks, de Lattimores, when my ma died, +way out in Indiana. + +"Atter Marse Bob died, I stayed wid my old Missus, and slep' by her bed +at night. She wuz good to me, and de hardes' wuk I done wuz pickin' up +acorns to fatten de hogs. I stayed dar wid her 'til she died. Us had +plenty t'eat, a smokehouse filled wid hams, and all de other things us +needed. Dey had a great big fireplace and a big old time oven whar dey +baked bread, and it sho' wuz good bread. + +"My old Missus died when I wuz 'bout 6 years old, and I wus sont to +Lexin'ton, Georgia, to live wid my sister. Dere wuz jus' da two of us +chilluns. Den us wukked every day, and went to bed by dark; not lak de +young folks now, gallivantin' 'bout all night long. + +"When I wuz 'bout 14 I married and come to live on Dr. Willingham's +place. It wuz a big plantation, and dey really lived. When de crops wuz +all in and all de wuk done, dey had big times 'round dar. + +"Dere wuz de corn shuckin' wid one house for de corn and another house +for de shucks. Atter all de shuckin' wuz done, dere wuz eatin' and +dancin'. And it wuz eatin' too! Dey kilt hogs, barbecued 'em, and +roasted some wid apples in dey mouf's to give 'em a good flavor, and +course a little corn likker went wid it. Dey had big doin's at syrup +makin' time too, but dat wuz hard wuk den. Makin' syrup sho' wuz a heap +of trouble. + +"Later us lived wid de Johnson fambly, and atter my old man died, I come +to dis town wid de Johnsons. Dere wuz three chilluns, Percy, Lewis, and +a gal. I stayed wid 'em 'til de chilluns wuz all growed up and +eddicated. All my other w'ite folks is gone; my sister done gone too, +and my son; all de chillun dat I had, deys done daid too. + +"Now I has to wash so I kin live. I used to have plenty, but times is +changed and now sometimes I don't have nothin' but bread, and jus' bread +is hard to git, heap of de time. + +"I put in for one of dem old age pensions, but dey ain't give me nothin' +yet, so I jus' wuk when I kin, and hope dat it won't be long 'fore I has +plenty again." + + + + +OLD SLAVE STORY + +DELLA BRISCOE +Macon, Georgia + +By Adella S. Dixon [HW: (Colored)] +[JUL 28 1937] + + +Della Briscoe, now living in Macon, is a former slave of Mr. David Ross, +who owned a large plantation in Putnam County. Della, when a very tiny +child, was carried there with her father and mother, Sam and Mary Ross. +Soon after their arrival the mother was sent to work at the "big house" +in Eatonton. This arrangement left Della, her brother and sister to the +care of their grandmother, who really posed as their mother. The +children grew up under the impression that their mother was an older +sister and did not know the truth until just after the close of the +Civil War, when the mother became seriously ill and called the children +to her bedside to tell them goodbye. + +Mr. David Ross had a large family and was considered the richest planter +in the county. Nearly every type of soil was found on his vast estate, +composed of hilly sections as well as acres of lowlands. The highway +entering Eatonton divided the plantation and, down this road every +Friday, Della's father drove the wagon to town with a supply of fresh +butter, for Mrs. Ross' thirty head of cows supplied enough milk to +furnish the city dwellers with butter. + +Refrigeration was practically unknown, so a well was used to keep the +butter fresh. This cool well was eighty feet deep and passed through a +layer of solid rock. A rope ladder was suspended from the mouth of the +well to the place where the butter was lowered for preservation. For +safety, and to shield it from the sun, reeds were planted all around the +well. And as they grew very tall, a stranger would not suspect a well +being there. + +In addition to marketing, Della's father trapped beavers which were +plentiful in the swampy part of the plantation bordering the Oconee, +selling their pelts to traders in the nearby towns of Augusta and +Savannah, where Mr. Ross also marketed his cotton and large quantities +of corn. Oxen, instead of mules, were used to make the trips to market +and return, each trip consuming six or seven days. + +The young children were assigned small tasks, such as piling brush in +"new grounds", carrying water to field hands, and driving the calves to +pasture. + +Punishment was administered, though not as often as on some plantations. +The little girl, Della, was whipped only once--for breaking up a +turkey's nest she had found. Several were accused of this, and because +the master could not find the guilty party, he whipped each of the +children. + +Crime was practically unknown and Mr. Ross' slaves never heard of a jail +until they were freed. + +Men were sometimes placed in "bucks", which meant they were laid across +blocks with their hands and feet securely tied. An iron bar was run +between the blocks to prevent any movement; then, after being stripped, +they were whipped. Della said that she knew of but one case of this +type of punishment being administered a Ross slave. Sickness was +negligible--childbirth being practically the only form of a Negro +woman's "coming down". + +As a precaution against disease, a tonic was given each slave every +spring. Three were also, every spring, taken from the field each day +until every one had been given a dose of calomel and salts. Mr. Ross +once bought two slaves who became ill with smallpox soon after their +arrival. They were isolated in a small house located in the center of a +field, while one other slave was sent there to nurse them. All three +were burned to death when their hut was destroyed by fire. + +In case of death, even on a neighboring place, all work was suspended +until the dead was buried. + +Sunday, the only day of rest, was often spent in attending religious +services, and because these were irregularly held, brush arbor meetings +were common. This arbor was constructed of a brush roof supported by +posts and crude joists. The seats were usually made of small saplings +nailed to short stumps. + +Religion was greatly stressed and every child was christened shortly +after its birth. An adult who desired to join the church went first to +the master to obtain his permission. He was then sent to the home of a +minister who lived a short distance away at a place called Flat Rock. +Here, his confession was made and, at the next regular service, he was +formally received into the church. + +Courtships were brief. + +The "old man", who was past the age for work and only had to watch what +went on at the quarters, was usually the first to notice a budding +friendship, which he reported to the master. The couple was then +questioned and, if they consented, were married without the benefit of +clergy. + +Food was distributed on Monday night, and for each adult slave the +following staple products were allowed-- + + Weekly ration: On Sunday: + 3-1/2 lbs. meat One qt. syrup + 1 pk. of meal One gal. flour + 1 gal. shorts One cup lard + +Vegetables, milk, etc., could be obtained at the "big house", but fresh +meat and chickens were never given. The desire for these delicacies +often overcame the slaves' better natures, and some frequently went +night foraging for small shoats and chickens. + +The "old man" kept account of the increase or decrease in live stock and +poultry and reported anything missing each day. When suspicion fell on a +visitor of the previous night, this information was given to his master, +who then searched the accused's dinner pail and cabin. If meat was found +in either the culprit was turned over to his accuser for punishment. +After being whipped, he was forbidden for three months to visit the +plantation where he had committed the theft. + +One of Della's grandmother's favorite recipes was made of dried beef and +wheat. The wheat was brought from the field and husked by hand. This, +added to the rapidly boiling beef, was cooked until a mush resulted, +which was then eaten from wooden bowls with spoons of the same material. +White plates were never used by the slaves. + +Cloth for clothing was woven on the place. Della's grandmother did most +of the spinning, and she taught her child to spin when she was so small +that she had to stand on a raised plank to reach the wheel. After the +cloth was spun it was dyed with dye made from "shoemake" (sumac) leaves, +green walnuts, reeds, and copperas. One person cut and others sewed. The +dresses for women were straight, like slips, and the garments of the +small boys resembled night shirts. If desired, a bias fold of +contrasting colour was placed at the waist line or at the bottom of +dresses. The crudely made garments were starched with a solution of +flour or meal and water which was strained and then boiled. + +As a small child Della remembers hearing a peculiar knock on the door +during the night, and a voice which replied to queries, "No one to hurt +you, but keep that red flannel in your mouth. Have you plenty to eat? +Don't worry; you'll be free." No one would ever tell, if they knew, to +whom this voice belonged. + +Just before the beginning of the Civil War a comet appeared which was so +bright that the elder people amused themselves by sitting on the rail +fence and throwing pins upon the ground where the reflection was cast. +The children scrambled madly to see who could find the most pins. + +During the early part of the war Mr. Ross fought with the Confederates, +leaving his young son, Robert, in charge of his affairs. The young +master was very fond of horses and his favorite horse--"Bill"--was +trained to do tricks. One of these was to lie down when tickled on his +flanks. The Yankees visited the plantation and tried to take this +horse. Robert, who loved him dearly, refused to dismount, and as they +were about to shoot the horse beneath him, the slaves began to plead. +They explained that the boy was kind to every one and devoted to +animals, after which explanation, he was allowed to keep his horse. + +The breastworks at Savannah required many laborers to complete their +construction, and as the commanders desired to save the strength of +their soldiers, slave labor was solicited. Two slaves from each nearby +plantation were sent to work for a limited number of days. The round +trip from the Ross plantation required seven days. + +Nearly every man had a family and when they returned from these long +trips they drove to the quarters and fell on their knees to receive the +welcome caresses of their small children. + +Recreational facilities were not provided and slave children had little +knowledge of how to play. Their two main amusements were building frog +houses and sliding down a steep bank on a long board. One day, as they +played up and down the highway, building frog houses at irregular +intervals, little Della looked up and saw a group of Yankee calvarymen +approaching. She screamed and began running and so attracted the +attention of Mr. Ross who was at home on a furlough. + +He saw the men in time to find a hiding place. Meanwhile, the soldiers +arrived and the leader, springing from his horse, snatched Della up and +spanked her soundly for giving the alarm, as they had hoped to take her +master by surprise. Della said this was the first "white slap" she ever +received. + +Some of the Yankees entered the house, tore up the interior, and threw +the furniture out doors. Another group robbed the smokehouse and smashed +so many barrels of syrup that it ran in a stream through the yard. They +carried much of the meat off with them and gave the remainder to the +slaves. Chickens were caught, dressed, and fried on the spot as each +soldier carried his own frying pan, and a piece of flint rock and a +sponge with which to make a fire. The men were skilled in dressing fowls +and cleaned them in a few strokes. + +When they had eaten as much as they desired, a search for the corral was +made, but the mules were so well hidden that they were not able to find +them. Della's father's hands were tied behind him and he was then forced +to show them the hiding place. These fine beasts, used for plowing, were +named by the slaves who worked them. Characteristic names were: "Jule", +"Pigeon", "Little Deal", "Vic", (the carriage horse), "Streaked leg," +"Kicking Kid", "Sore-back Janie". Every one was carried off. + +This raid took place on Christmas Eve and the slaves were frantic as +they had been told that Yankees were mean people, especially was Sherman +so pictured. + +When Sherman had gone, Mr. Ross came from his hiding place in the "cool +well" and spoke to his slaves. To the elder ones he said, "I saw you +give away my meat and mules." + +"Master, we were afraid. We didn't want to do it, but we were afraid not +to." + +"Yes, I understand that you could not help yourselves." He then turned +to the children, saying, "Bless all of you, but to little Della, I owe +my life. From now on she shall never be whipped, and she shall have a +home of her own for life." + +She shook with laughter as she said, "Master thought I screamed to warn +him and I was only frightened." + +True to his word, after freedom he gave her a three-acre plot of land +upon which he built a house and added a mule, buggy, cow, hogs, etc. +Della lived there until after her marriage, when she had to leave with +her husband. She later lost her home. Having been married twice, she now +bears the name of Briscoe, her last husband's name. + +When the family had again settled down to the ordinary routine, a new +plague, body lice, said to have been left by the invaders, made life +almost unbearable for both races. + +Della now lives with her granddaughter, for she has been unable to work +for twenty-eight years. Macon's Department of Public Welfare assists in +contributing to her livelihood, as the granddaughter can only pay the +room rent. + +She does not know her age but believes that she is above ninety. Her +keen old eyes seemed to look back into those bygone days as she said, "I +got along better den dan I eber hab since. We didn't know nuthin 'bout +jail houses, paying for our burial grounds, and de rent. We had plenty +o' food." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex. Slv. #11] + +GEORGE BROOKS, EX-SLAVE +Date of birth: Year unknown (See below) +Place of birth: In Muscogee County, near Columbus, Georgia +Present Residence: 502 East 8th Street, Columbus, Georgia +Interviewed: August 4, 1936 +[MAY 8 1937] + + +This old darky, probably the oldest ex-slave in West Georgia, claims to +be 112 years of age. His colored friends are also of the opinion that he +is fully that old or older--but, since none of his former (two) owners' +people can be located, and no records concerning his birth can be found, +his definite age cannot be positively established. + +"Uncle" George claims to have worked in the fields, "some", the year the +"stars fell"--1833. + +His original owner was Mr. Henry Williams--to whom he was greatly +attached. As a young man, he was--for a number of years--Mr. Williams' +personal body-servant. After Mr. Williams' death--during the 1850's, +"Uncle" George was sold to a white man--whose name he doesn't +remember--of Dadeville, Alabama, with whom he subsequently spent five +months in the Confederate service. + +One of "Uncle" George's stories is to the effect that he once left a +chore he was doing for his second "Marster's" wife, "stepped" to a +nearby well to get a drink of water and, impelled by some strange, +irresistible "power", "jes kep on walkin 'til he run slap-dab inter de +Yankees", who corraled him and kept him for three months. + +Still another story he tells is that of his being sold after freedom! +According to his version of this incident, he was sold along with two +bales of cotton in the fall of 1865--either the cotton being sold and he +"thrown in" with it, or vice versa--he doesn't know which, but he _does +know_ that he and the cotton were "sold" together! And very soon after +this transaction occurred, the seller was clapped in jail! Then, +"somebody" (he doesn't remember who) gave him some money, put him on a +stage-coach at night and "shipped" him to Columbus, where he learned +that he was a free man and has since remained. + +"Uncle" George has been married once and is the father of several +children. His wife, however, died fifty-odd years ago and he knows +nothing of the whereabouts of his children--doesn't even know whether or +not any of them are living, having lost "all track o'all kin fokes too +long ago to tawk about." + +Unfortunately, "Uncle" George's mind is clouded and his memory badly +impaired, otherwise his life story would perhaps be quite interesting. +For more than twenty years, he has been supported and cared for by kind +hearted members of his race, who say that they intend to continue "to +look after the old man 'til he passes on." + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +EASTER BROWN +1020 S. Lumpkin Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written By: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby + +Edited By: +John N. Booth +Federal Writers' Project +WPA Residency No. 7 + + +"Aunt" Easter Brown, 78 years old, was sweeping chips into a basket out +in front of her cabin. "Go right in honey, I'se comin' soon as I git +some chips for my fire. Does I lak to talk 'bout when I wuz a chile? I +sho does. I warn't but 4 years old when de war wuz over, but I knows all +'bout it." + +"I wuz born in Floyd County sometime in October. My pa wuz Erwin and my +ma wuz Liza Lorie. I don't know whar dey come from, but I knows dey wuz +from way down de country somewhars. Dere wuz six of us chilluns. All of +us wuz sold. Yessum, I wuz sold too. My oldest brother wuz named Jim. I +don't riccolec' de others, dey wuz all sold off to diffunt parts of de +country, and us never heared from 'em no more. My brother, my pa and me +wuz sold on de block in Rome, Georgia. Marster Frank Glenn buyed me. I +wuz so little dat when dey bid me off, dey had to hold me up so folkses +could see me. I don't 'member my real ma and pa, and I called Marster +'pa' an' Mist'ess 'ma', 'til I wuz 'bout 'leven years old. + +"I don't know much 'bout slave quarters, or what dey had in 'em, 'cause +I wuz raised in de house wid de white folkses. I does know beds in de +quarters wuz lak shelves. Holes wuz bored in de side of de house, two in +de wall and de floor, and poles runnin' from de wall and de floor, +fastened together wid pegs; on 'em dey put planks, and cross de foot of +de bed dey put a plank to hold de straw and keep de little 'uns from +fallin' out. + +"What did us have to eat? Lordy mussy! Mist'ess! us had everything. +Summertime dere wuz beans, cabbage, squashes, irish 'tatoes, roas'en +ears, 'matoes, cucumbers, cornbread, and fat meat, but de Nigger boys, +dey wuz plum fools 'bout hog head. In winter dey et sweet 'tatoes, +collards, turnips and sich, but I et lak de white folkses. I sho does +lak 'possums and rabbits. Yessum, some of de slaves had gyardens, some +of 'em sholy did. + +"No'm, us Niggers never wore no clothes in summer, I means us little +'uns. In de winter us wore cotton clothes, but us went barefoots. My +uncle Sam and some of de other Niggers went 'bout wid dey foots popped +open from de cold. Marster had 110 slaves on his plantation. + +"Mist'ess wuz good to me. Pa begged her to buy me, 'cause she wuz his +young Mist'ess and he knowed she would be good to me, but Marster wuz +real cruel. He'd beat his hoss down on his knees and he kilt one of 'em. +He whupped de Niggers when dey didn't do right. Niggers is lak dis; dey +wuz brought to dis here land wild as bucks, and dey is lak chicken +roosters in a pen. You just have to make 'em 'have deyselves. Its lak +dat now; if dey'd 'have deyselves, white folkses would let 'em be. + +"Dere warn't no jails in dem days. Dey had a gyuard house what dey +whupped 'em in, and Mondays and Tuesdays wuz set aside for de whuppin's, +when de Niggers what had done wrong got so many lashes, 'cordin' to what +devilment dey had been doin'. De overseer didn't do de whuppin', +Marster done dat. Dem patterrollers wuz sompin else. Mankind! If dey +ketched a Nigger out atter dark widout no pass dey'd most nigh tear de +hide offen his back. + +"I'll tell you what dat overseer done one night. Some enemy of Marster's +sot fire to de big frame house whar him and Mist'ess and de chillun +lived. De overseer seed it burnin', and run and clam up de tree what wuz +close to de house, went in de window and got Marster's two little gals +out dat burnin' house 'fore you could say scat. Dat sho fixed de +overseer wid old Marster. Atter dat Marster give him a nice house to +live in but Marster's fine old house sho wuz burnt to de ground. + +"De cyarriage driver wuz uncle Sam. He drove de chillun to school, tuk +Marster and Mist'ess to church, and done de wuk 'round de house; such +as, totin' in wood, keepin' de yards and waitin' on de cook. No'm us +slaves didn't go to church; de Niggers wuz so wore out on Sundays, dey +wuz glad to stay home and rest up, 'cause de overseer had 'em up way +'fore day and wuked 'em 'til long atter dark. On Saddays dey had to wash +deir clothes and git ready for de next week. Some slaves might a had +special things give to 'em on Christmas and New Years Day, but not on +Marster's plantation; dey rested up a day and dat wuz all. I heared tell +dey had Christmas fixin's and doin's on other plantations, but not on +Marse Frank's place. All corn shuckin's, cotton pickin's, log rollin's, +and de lak was when de boss made 'em do it, an' den dere sho warn't no +extra sompin t'eat. + +"De onliest game I ever played wuz to take my doll made out of a stick +wid a rag on it and play under a tree. When I wuz big 'nough to wuk, all +I done wuz to help de cook in de kitchen and play wid old Mist'ess' +baby. + +"Some of de Niggers runned away. Webster, Hagar, Atney, an' Jane runned +away a little while 'fore freedom. Old Marster didn't try to git 'em +back, 'cause 'bout dat time de war wuz over. Marster and Mist'ess sho +looked atter de Niggers when dey got sick for dey knowed dat if a Nigger +died dat much property wuz lost. Yessum, dey had a doctor sometime, but +de most dey done wuz give 'em hoarhound, yellow root and tansy. When a +baby wuz cuttin' teeth, dey biled ground ivy and give 'em. + +"Louisa, de cook wuz married in de front yard. All I 'members 'bout it +wuz dat all de Niggers gathered in de yard, Louisa had on a white dress; +de white folkses sho fixed Louisa up, 'cause she wuz deir cook. + +"Jus' lemme tell you 'bout my weddin' I buyed myself a dress and had it +laid out on de bed, den some triflin', no 'count Nigger wench tuk and +stole it 'fore I had a chance to git married in it. I had done buyed dat +dress for two pupposes; fust to git married in it, and second to be +buried in. I stayed on wid Old Miss 'til I got 'bout grown and den I +drifted to Athens. When I married my fust husband, Charlie Montgomery, I +wuz wukkin' for Mrs. W.R. Booth, and us married in her dinin' room. +Charlie died out and I married James Hoshier. Us had one baby. Hit wuz a +boy. James an' our boy is both daid now and I'se all by myself. + +"What de slaves done when dey wuz told dat dey wuz free? I wuz too +little to know what dey meant by freedom, but Old Marster called de +overseer and told him to ring de bell for de Niggers to come to de big +house. He told 'em dey wuz free devils and dey could go whar dey pleased +and do what dey pleased--dey could stay wid him if dey wanted to. Some +stayed wid Old Marster and some went away. I never seed no yankee +sojers. I heared tell of 'em comin' but I never seed none of 'em. + +"No'm I don't know nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Booker T. Washington +or Jefferson Davis. I didn't try to ketch on to any of 'em. As for +slavery days; some of de Niggers ought to be free and some oughtn't to +be. I don't know nuttin much 'bout it. I had a good time den, and I gits +on pretty good now. + +"How come I jined de church? Well I felt lak it wuz time for me to live +better and git ready for a home in de next world. Chile you sho has axed +me a pile of questions, and I has sho 'joyed tellin' you what I knowed." + + + + +JULIA BROWN (Aunt Sally) +710 Griffin Place, N.W. +Atlanta, Ga. +July 25, 1936[TR:?] + +by +Geneva Tonsill + +[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.] + + +AH ALWAYS HAD A HARD TIME + +Aunt Sally rocked back and forth incessantly. She mopped her wrinkled +face with a dirty rag as she talked. "Ah wuz born fo' miles frum +Commerce, Georgia, and wuz thirteen year ole at surrender. Ah belonged +to the Nash fambly--three ole maid sisters. My mama belonged to the +Nashes and my papa belonged to General Burns; he wuz a officer in the +war. There wuz six of us chilluns, Lucy, Malvina, Johnnie, Callie, Joe +and me. We didn't stay together long, as we wuz give out to different +people. The Nashes didn't believe in selling slaves but we wuz known as +their niggers. They sold one once 'cause the other slaves said they +would kill him 'cause he had a baby by his own daughter. So to keep him +frum bein' kilt, they sold him. + +"My mama died the year of surrender. Ah didn't fare well after her +death, Ah had sicha hard time. Ah wuz give to the Mitchell fambly and +they done every cruel thing they could to me. Ah slept on the flo' nine +years, winter and summer, sick or well. Ah never wore anything but a +cotton dress, a shimmy and draw's. That 'oman didn't care what happened +to the niggers. Sometimes she would take us to church. We'd walk to the +church house. Ah never went nowhere else. That 'oman took delight in +sellin' slaves. She'd lash us with a cowhide whip. Ah had to shift fur +mahself. + +"They didn't mind the slaves matin', but they wanted their niggers to +marry only amongst them on their place. They didn't 'low 'em to mate +with other slaves frum other places. When the wimmen had babies they wuz +treated kind and they let 'em stay in. We called it 'lay-in', just about +lak they do now. We didn't go to no horspitals as they do now, we jest +had our babies and had a granny to catch 'em. We didn't have all the +pain-easin' medicines then. The granny would put a rusty piece of tin or +a ax under the mattress and this would ease the pains. The granny put a +ax under my mattress once. This wuz to cut off the after-pains and it +sho did too, honey. We'd set up the fifth day and after the 'layin-in' +time wuz up we wuz 'lowed to walk out doors and they tole us to walk +around the house jest once and come in the house. This wuz to keep us +frum takin' a 'lapse. + +"We wuzn't 'lowed to go around and have pleasure as the folks does +today. We had to have passes to go wherever we wanted. When we'd git out +there wuz a bunch of white men called the 'patty rollers'. They'd come +in and see if all us had passes and if they found any who didn't have a +pass he wuz whipped; give fifty or more lashes--and they'd count them +lashes. If they said a hundred you got a hundred. They wuz somethin' lak +the Klu Klux. We wuz 'fraid to tell our masters about the patty rollers +because we wuz skeered they'd whip us again, fur we wuz tole not to +tell. They'd sing a little ditty. Ah wish Ah could remember the words, +but it went somethin' lak this: + + 'Run, Niggah, run, de Patty Rollers'll git you, + Run Niggah, ran, you'd bettah git away.' + +"We wuz 'fraid to go any place. + +"Slaves ware treated in most cases lak cattle. A man went about the +country buyin' up slaves lak buyin' up cattle and the like, and he wuz +called a 'speculator', then he'd sell 'em to the highest bidder. Oh! it +wuz pitiful to see chil'en taken frum their mothers' breast, mothers +sold, husbands sold frum wives. One 'oman he wuz to buy had a baby, and +of course the baby come befo' he bought her and he wouldn't buy the +baby; said he hadn't bargained to buy the baby too, and he jest +wouldn't. My uncle wuz married but he wuz owned by one master and his +wife wuz owned by another. He wuz 'lowed to visit his wife on Wednesday +and Saturday, that's the onliest time he could git off. He went on +Wednesday and when he went back on Saturday his wife had been bought by +the speculator and he never did know where she wuz. + +"Ah worked hard always. Honey, you can't 'magine what a hard time Ah +had. Ah split rails lak a man. How did Ah do it? Ah used a huge glut, +and a iron wedge drove into the wood with a maul, and this would split +the wood. + +"Ah help spin the cotton into thread fur our clothes. The thread wuz +made into big broaches--four broaches made four cuts, or one hank. After +the thread wuz made we used a loom to weave the cloth. We had no sewin' +machine--had to sew by hand. My mistress had a big silver bird and she +would always catch the cloth in the bird's bill and this would hold it +fur her to sew. + +"Ah didn't git to handle money when I wuz young. Ah worked frum sunup to +sundown. We never had overseers lak some of the slaves. We wuz give so +much work to do in a day and if the white folks went off on a vacation +they would give us so much work to do while they wuz gone and we better +have all of that done too when they'd come home. Some of the white folks +wuz very kind to their slaves. Some did not believe in slavery and some +freed them befo' the war and even give 'em land and homes. Some would +give the niggers meal, lard and lak that. They made me hoe when Ah wuz a +chile and Ah'd keep rat up with the others, 'cause they'd tell me that +if Ah got behind a run-a-way nigger would git me and split open my head +and git the milk out'n it. Of course Ah didn't know then that wuzn't +true--Ah believed everything they tole me and that made me work the +harder. + +"There wuz a white man, Mister Jim, that wuz very mean to the slaves. +He'd go 'round and beat 'em. He'd even go to the little homes, tear down +the chimneys and do all sorts of cruel things. The chimneys wuz made of +mud 'n straw 'n sticks; they wuz powerful strong too. Mister Jim wuz +jest a mean man, and when he died we all said God got tired of Mister +Jim being so mean and kilt him. When they laid him out on the coolin' +board, everybody wuz settin' 'round, moanin' over his death, and all of +a sudden Mister Jim rolled off'n the coolin' board, and sich a runnin' +and gittin' out'n that room you never saw. We said Mister Jim wuz tryin' +to run the niggers and we wuz 'fraid to go about at night. Ah believed +it then; now that they's 'mbalmin' Ah know that must have been gas and +he wuz purgin', fur they didn't know nothin' 'bout 'mbalmin' then. They +didn't keep dead folks out'n the ground long in them days. + +"Doctors wuzn't so plentiful then. They'd go 'round in buggies and on +hosses. Them that rode on a hoss had saddle pockets jest filled with +little bottles and lots of them. He'd try one medicine and if it didn't +do not [TR: no?] good he'd try another until it did do good and when the +doctor went to see a sick pusson he'd stay rat there until he wuz +better. He didn't jest come in and write a 'scription fur somebody to +take to a drug store. We used herbs a lots in them days. When a body had +dropsy we'd set him in a tepid bath made of mullein leaves. There wuz a +jimson weed we'd use fur rheumatism, and fur asthma we'd use tea made of +chestnut leaves. We'd git the chestnut leaves, dry them in the sun jest +lak tea leaves, and we wouldn't let them leaves git wet fur nothin' in +the world while they wuz dryin'. We'd take poke salad roots, boil them +and then take sugar and make a syrup. This wuz the best thing fur +asthma. It was known to cure it too. Fur colds and sich we used +ho'hound; made candy out'n it with brown sugar. We used a lots of rock +candy and whiskey fur colds too. They had a remedy that they used fur +consumption--take dry cow manure, make a tea of this and flavor it with +mint and give it to the sick pusson. We didn't need many doctors then +fur we didn't have so much sickness in them days, and nachelly they +didn't die so fast; folks lived a long time then. They used a lot of +peachtree leaves too for fever, and when the stomach got upsot we'd +crush the leaves, pour water over them and wouldn't let them drink any +other kind of water 'till they wuz better. Ah still believes in them ole +ho'made medicines too and ah don't believe in so many doctors. + +"We didn't have stoves plentiful then: just ovens we set in the +fireplace. Ah's toted a many a armful of bark--good ole hickory bark to +cook with. We'd cook light bread--both flour and corn. The yeast fur +this bread wuz made frum hops. Coals of fire wuz put on top of the oven +and under the bottom, too. Everything wuz cooked on coals frum a wood +fire--coffee and all. Wait, let me show you my coffee tribet. Have you +ever seen one? Well, Ah'll show you mine." Aunt Sally got up and hobbled +to the kitchen to get the trivet. After a few moments search she came +back into the room. + +"No, it's not there. Ah guess it's been put in the basement. Ah'll show +it to you when you come back. It's a rack made of iron that the pot is +set on befo' puttin' it on the fire coals. The victuals wuz good in them +days; we got our vegetables out'n the garden in season and didn't have +all the hot-house vegetables. Ah don't eat many vegetables now unless +they come out'n the garden and I know it. Well, as I said, there wuz +racks fitted in the fireplace to put pots on. Once there wuz a big pot +settin' on the fire, jest bilin' away with a big roast in it. As the +water biled, the meat turned over and over, comin' up to the top and +goin' down again, Ole Sandy, the dog, come in the kitchen. He sot there +a while and watched that meat roll over and over in the pot, and all of +a sudden-like he grabbed at that meat and pulls it out'n the pot. +'Course he couldn't eat it 'cause it wuz hot and they got the meat befo' +he et it. The kitchen wuz away frum the big house, so the victuals wuz +cooked and carried up to the house. Ah'd carry it up mahse'f. We +couldn't eat all the different kinds of victuals the white folks et and +one mornin' when I was carryin' the breakfast to the big house we had +waffles that wuz a pretty golden brown and pipin' hot. They wuz a +picture to look at and ah jest couldn't keep frum takin' one, and that +wuz the hardest waffle fur me to eat befo' I got to the big house I ever +saw. Ah jest couldn't git rid of that waffle 'cause my conscience +whipped me so. + +"They taught me to do everything. Ah'd use battlin' blocks and battlin' +sticks to wash the clothes; we all did. The clothes wuz taken out of the +water an put on the block and beat with a battlin' stick, which was made +like a paddle. On wash days you could hear them battlin' sticks poundin' +every which-away. We made our own soap, used ole meat and grease, and +poured water over wood ashes which wuz kept in a rack-like thing and the +water would drip through the ashes. This made strong lye. We used a lot +'o sich lye, too, to bile with. + +"Sometimes the slaves would run away. Their masters wuz mean to them +that caused them to run away. Sometimes they would live in caves. How +did they get along? Well, chile, they got along all right--what with +other people slippin' things in to 'em. And, too, they'd steal hogs, +chickens, and anything else they could git their hands on. Some white +people would help, too, fur there wuz some white people who didn't +believe in slavery. Yes, they'd try to find them slaves that run away +and if they wuz found they'd be beat or sold to somebody else. My +grandmother run away frum her master. She stayed in the woods and she +washed her clothes in the branches. She used sand fur soap. Yes, chile, +I reckon they got 'long all right in the caves. They had babies in thar +and raised 'em too. + +"Ah stayed with the Mitchells 'til Miss Hannah died. Ah even helped to +lay her out. Ah didn't go to the graveyard though. Ah didn't have a home +after she died and Ah wandered from place to place, stayin' with a white +fambly this time and then a nigger fambly the next time. Ah moved to +Jackson County and stayed with a Mister Frank Dowdy. Ah didn't stay +there long though. Then Ah moved to Winder, Georgia. They called it 'Jug +Tavern' in them days, 'cause jugs wuz made there. Ah married Green +Hinton in Winder. Got along well after marryin' him. He farmed fur a +livin' and made a good livin' fur me and the eight chilluns, all born in +Winder. The chilluns wuz grown nearly when he died and wuz able to help +me with the smalles ones. Ah got along all right after his death and +didn't have sich a hard time raisin' the chilluns. Then Ah married Jim +Brown and moved to Atlanta. Jim farmed at first fur a livin' and then he +worked on the railroad--the Seaboard. He helped to grade the first +railroad track for that line. He wuz a sand-dryer." + +Aunt Sally broke off her story here. "Lord, honey, Ah got sich a pain in +mah stomach Ah don't believe Ah can go on. It's a gnawin' kind of pain. +Jest keeps me weak all over." Naturally I suggested that we complete the +story at another time. So I left, promisin' to return in a few days. A +block from the house I stopped in a store to order some groceries for +Aunt Sally. The proprietress, a Jewish woman, spoke up when I gave the +delivery address. She explained in broken English that she knew Aunt +Sally. + +"I tink you vas very kind to do dis for Aunt Sally. She neets it. I +often gif her son food. He's very old and feeble. He passed here +yesterday and he look so wasted and hungry. His stomick look like it vas +drawn in, you know. I gif him some fresh hocks. I know dey could not eat +all of them in a day and I'm afrait it von't be goof [TR: goot? or +good?] for dem today. I vas trained to help people in neet. It's pert of +my religion. See, if ve sit on de stritcar and an olt person comes in +and finds no seat, ve get up and gif him one. If ve see a person loaded +vid bundles and he iss old and barely able to go, ve gif a hand. See, ve +Jews--you colored--but ve know no difference. Anyvon neeting help, ve +gif." + +A couple of days later I was back at Aunt Sally's. I had brought some +groceries for the old woman. I knocked a long time on the front door, +and, getting no answer, I picked my way through the rank growth of weeds +and grass surrounding the house and went around to the back door. It +opened into the kitchen, where Aunt Sally and her son were having +breakfast. The room was small and dark and I could hardly see the +couple, but Aunt Sally welcomed me. "Lawd, honey, you come right on in. +I tole John I heard somebody knockin' at the do'." + +"You been hearin' things all mornin'," John spoke up. He turned to me. +"You must've been thinkin' about mamma just when we started eatin' +breakfast because she asked me did I hear somebody call her. I tole her +the Lawd Jesus is always a-callin' poor niggers, but she said it sounded +like the lady's voice who was here the other day. Well I didn't hear +anything and I tole her she mus' be hearin' things." + +I'd put the bag of groceries on the table unobtrusively, but Aunt Sally +wasn't one to let such gifts pass unnoticed. Eagerly she tore the bag +open and began pulling out the packages. "Lawd bless you, chile, and He +sho will bless you! I feels rich seein' what you brought me. Jest look +at this--Lawdy mercy!--rolls, butter, milk, balogny...! Oh, this +balogny, jest looky there! You must a knowed what I wanted!" She was +stuffing it in her mouth as she talked. "And these aigs...! Honey, you +knows God is goin' to bless you and let you live long. Ah'se goin' to +cook one at a time. And Ah sho been wantin' some milk. Ah'se gonna cook +me a hoecake rat now." + +She went about putting the things in little cans and placing them on +shelves or in the dilapidated little cupboard that stood in a corner. I +sat down near the door and listened while she rambled on. + +"Ah used to say young people didn't care bout ole folks but Ah is takin' +that back now. Ah jest tole my son the other day that its turned round, +the young folks thinks of the ole and tries to help 'em and the ole +folks don't try to think of each other; some of them, they is too mean. +Ah can't understand it; Ah jest know I heard you call me when Ah started +to eat, and tole my son so. Had you been to the do' befo'?" She talked +on not waiting for a reply. "Ah sho did enjoy the victuals you sent day +befo' yistidy. They send me surplus food frum the gove'nment but Ah +don't like what they send. The skim milk gripes me and Ah don't like +that yellow meal. A friend brought me some white meal t'other day. And +that wheat cereal they send! Ah eats it with water when Ah don't have +milk and Ah don't like it but when you don't have nothin' else you got +to eat what you have. They send me 75c ever two weeks but that don't go +very fur. Ah ain't complainin' fur Ah'm thankful fur what Ah git. + +"They send a girl to help me around the house, too. She's frum the +housekeepin' department. She's very nice to me. Yes, she sho'ly is a +sweet girl, and her foreman is sweet too. She comes in now 'n then to +see me and see how the girl is gittin' along. She washes, too. Ah's been +on relief a long time. Now when Ah first got on it wuz when they first +started givin' me. They give me plenty of anything Ah asked fur and my +visitor wuz Mrs. Tompkins. She wuz so good to me. Well they stopped that +and then the DPW (Department of Public Welfare) took care of me. When +they first started Ah got more than I do now and they've cut me down +'till Ah gits only a mighty little. + +"Yes, Ah wuz talkin' about my husband when you wuz here t'other day. He +wuz killed on the railroad. After he moved here he bought this home. +Ah'se lived here twenty years. Jim wuz comin' in the railroad yard one +day and stepped off the little engine they used for the workers rat in +the path of the L. & M. train. He wuz cut up and crushed to pieces. He +didn't have a sign of a head. They used a rake to git up the pieces they +did git. A man brought a few pieces out here in a bundle and Ah +wouldn't even look at them. Ah got a little money frum the railroad but +the lawyer got most of it. He brought me a few dollars out and tole me +not to discuss it with anyone nor tell how much Ah got. Ah tried to git +some of the men that worked with him to tell me just how it all +happened, but they wouldn't talk, and it wuz scand'lous how them niggers +held their peace and wouldn't tell me anything. The boss man came out +later but he didn't seem intrusted in it at all, so Ah got little or +nothing fur his death. The lawyer got it fur hisse'f. + +"All my chilluns died 'cept my son and he is ole and sick and can't do +nothin' fur me or hisse'f. He gets relief too, 75c every two weeks. He +goes 'round and people gives him a little t'eat. He has a hard time +tryin' to git 'long. + +"Ah had a double bed in t'other room and let a woman have it so she +could git some of the delegates to the Baptist World Alliance and she +wuz goin' to pay me fur lettin' her use the bed, but she didn't git +anybody 'cept two. They come there on Friday and left the next day. She +wuz tole that they didn't act right 'bout the delegates and lots of +people went to the expense to prepare fur them and didn't git a one. Ah +wuz sorry, for Ah intended to use what she paid me fur my water bill. Ah +owes $3.80 and had to give my deeds to my house to a lady to pay the +water bill fur me and it worries me 'cause Ah ain't got no money to pay +it, fur this is all Ah got and Ah hates to loose my house. Ah wisht it +wuz some way to pay it. Ah ain't been able to do fur mahse'f in many +years now, and has to depend on what others gives me. + +"Tell you mo' about the ole times? Lawd, honey, times has changed so +frum when Ah was young. You don't hear of haints as you did when I +growed up. The Lawd had to show His work in miracles 'cause we didn't +have learnin' in them days as they has now. And you may not believe it +but them things happened. Ah knows a old man what died, and after his +death he would come to our house where he always cut wood, and at night +we could hear a chain bein' drug along in the yard, jest as if a big +log-chain wuz bein' pulled by somebody. It would drag on up to the +woodpile and stop, then we could hear the thump-thump of the ax on the +wood. The woodpile was near the chimney and it would chop-chop on, then +stop and we could hear the chain bein' drug back the way it come. This +went on fur several nights until my father got tired and one night after +he heard it so long, the chop-chop, papa got mad and hollered at the +haint, 'G---- D---- you, go to hell!!!' and that spirit went off and +never did come back! + +"We'd always know somebody wuz goin' to die when we heard a owl come to +a house and start screechin'. We always said, 'somebody is gwine to +die!' Honey, you don't hear it now and it's good you don't fur it would +skeer you to death nearly. It sounded so mo'nful like and we'd put the +poker or the shovel in the fire and that always run him away; it burned +his tongue out and he couldn't holler no more. If they'd let us go out +lak we always wanted to, Ah don't 'spects we'd a-done it, 'cause we wuz +too skeered. Lawdy, chile, them wuz tryin' days. Ah sho is glad God let +me live to see these 'uns. + +"Ah tried to git the ole-age pension fur Ah sho'ly needed it and wuz +'titled to it too. Sho wuz. But that visitor jest wouldn't let me go +through. She acted lak that money belonged to her. Ah 'plied when it +first come out and shoulda been one of the first to get one. Ah worried +powerful much at first fur Ah felt how much better off Ah'd be. Ah +wouldn't be so dependent lak Ah'm is now. Ah 'spects you know that +'oman. She is a big black 'oman--wuz named Smith at first befo' she +married. She is a Johns now. She sho is a mean 'oman. She jest wouldn't +do no way. Ah even tole her if she let me go through and Ah got my +pension Ah would give her some of the money Ah got, but she jest didn't +do no way. She tole me if Ah wuz put on Ah'd get no more than Ah _wuz_ +gittin'. Ah sho believes them thats on gits more'n 75c every two weeks. +Ah sho had a hard time and a roughety road to travel with her my +visitor until they sent in the housekeeper. Fur that head 'oman jest +went rat out and got me some clothes. Everything Ah needed. When Ah tole +her how my visitor wuz doin' me she jest went out and come rat back with +all the things Ah needed. Ah don't know why my visitor done me lak that. +Ah said at first it wuz because Ah had this house but honey what could +Ah do with a house when Ah wuz hongry and not able to work. Ah always +worked hard. 'Course Ah didn't git much fur it but Ah lak to work fur +what Ah gits." + +Aunt Sally was beginning to repeat herself and I began to suspect she +was talking just to please me. So I arose to go. + +"Lawsy mercy, chile, you sho is sweet to set here and talk to a ole +'oman lak me. Ah sho is glad you come. Ah tole my son you wuz a bundle +of sunshine and Ah felt so much better the day you left--and heah you is +again! Chile, my nose wuzn't itchin' fur nothin'! You come back to see +me real soon. Ah'se always glad to have you. And the Lawd's gonna sho go +with you fur bein' so good to me." + +My awareness of the obvious fulsomeness in the old woman's praise in no +way detracted from my feeling of having done a good deed. Aunt Sally was +a clever psychologist and as I carefully picked my way up the weedy path +toward the street, I felt indeed that the "Lawd" was "sho goin'" with +me. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +JULIA BUNCH, Age 85 +Beech Island +South Carolina + +Written by: +Leila Harris +Augusta + +Edited by: +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Res. 6 & 7 +[MAY 10 1938] + + +Seated in a comfortable chair in the living room of her home, Julia +Bunch, Negress of 85 years, presented a picture of the old South that +will soon pass away forever. The little 3-room house, approachable only +on foot, was situated on top of a hill. Around the clean-swept yard, +petunias, verbena, and other flowers were supplemented by a large patch +of old-fashioned ribbon grass. A little black and white kitten was +frisking about and a big red hen lazily scratched under a big shade tree +in search of food for her brood. Julia's daughter, who was washing +"white people's clothes" around the side of the house, invited us into +the living room where her mother was seated. + +The floors of the front porch and the living room were scrubbed +spotlessly clean. There was a rug on the floor, while a piano across one +corner, a chifforobe with mirrored doors, a bureau, and several +comfortable chairs completed the room's furnishings. A motley assortment +of pictures adorning the walls included: _The Virgin Mother_, _The +Sacred Bleeding Heart_, several large family photographs, two pictures +of the Dionne Quintuplets, and one of President Roosevelt. + +Julia was not very talkative, but had a shy, irresistible chuckle, and +it was this, together with her personal appearance and the tidiness of +her home that left an indelible impression on the minds of her visitors. +Her skin was very dark, and her head closely wrapped in a dark bandana, +from which this gray hair peeped at intervals forming a frame for her +face. She was clad in a black and white flowered print dress and a dark +gray sweater, from which a white ruffle was apparent at the neck. Only +two buttons of the sweater were fastened and it fell away at the waist +displaying her green striped apron. From beneath the long dress, her +feet were visible encased in men's black shoes laced with white strings. +Her ornaments consisted of a ring on her third finger, earrings, and +tortoise-rimmed glasses which plainly displayed their dime-store origin. + +"I b'longed to Marse Jackie Dorn of Edgefield County, I was gived to him +and his wife when dey was married for a weddin' gift. I nussed deir +three chilluns for 'em and slep' on a couch in dier bedroom 'til I was +12 years old, den 'Mancipation come. I loved 'em so and stayed wid 'em +for four years atter freedom and when I left 'em I cried and dem +chilluns cried. + +"Yassir, dey was sho' good white people and very rich. Dere warn't +nothin' lackin' on dat plantation. De big house was part wood and part +brick, and de Niggers lived in one or two room box houses built in rows. +Marse Jackie runned a big grist mill and done de grindin' for all de +neighbors 'round 'bout. Three or four Niggers wukked in de mill all de +time. Us runned a big farm and dairy too. + +"Dere was allus plenty t'eat 'cause Marster had a 2-acre gyarden and a +big fruit orchard. Two cooks was in de kitchen all de time. Dey cooked +in a big fireplace, but us had big ovens to cook de meat, biscuits and +lightbread in. Us made 'lasses and syrup and put up fruits just lak dey +does now. + +"My Ma was head weaver. It tuk two or three days to set up de loom +'cause dere was so many little bitty threads to be threaded up. Us had +dyes of evvy color. Yassir, us could make wool cloth too. De sheeps was +sheered once a year and de wool was manufactured up and us had a loom +wid wheels to spin it into thread. + +"Old Marster never whupped nobody and dere was only one man dat I kin +'member dat de overseer whupped much and he 'served it 'cause he would +run away in spite of evvything. Dey would tie him to a tree way down in +de orchard and whup him." + +Julia kept repeating and seemed anxious to impress upon the minds of her +visitors that her white folks were good and very rich. "Yassir, my white +folks had lots of company and visited a lot. Dey rode saddle horses and +had deir own carriages wid a high seat for de driver. Nosir, she didn't +ride wid hoopskirts--you couldn't ride wid dem on. + +"Us bought some shoes from de market but dere was a travelin' shoemaker +dat wukked by days for all de folks. He was a slave and didn't git no +money; it was paid to his Marster. Us had our own blacksmith dat wukked +all de time. + +"De slaves from all de plantations 'round come to our corn shuckin's. Us +had 'em down in de orchard. Lots of white folks comed too. Dey kilt hogs +and us had a big supper and den us danced. Nosir, dere warn't no toddy, +Marse didn't b'lieve in dat, but dey would beat up apples and us drinked +de juice. It sho' was sweet too. + +"Folks done dey travelin' in stages and hacks in dem days. Each of de +stages had four hosses to 'em. When de cotton and all de other things +was ready to go to market, dey would pack 'em and bring 'em to Augusta +wid mules and wagons. It would take a week and sometimes longer for de +trip, and dey would come back loaded down wid 'visions and clothes, and +dere was allus a plenty for all de Niggers too. + +"De white folks allus helped deir Niggers wid de weddin's and buyed deir +clothes for 'em. I 'members once a man friend of mine come to ax could +he marry one of our gals. Marster axed him a right smart of questions +and den he told him he could have her, but he mustn't knock or cuff her +'bout when he didn't want her no more, but to turn her loose. + +"Us had a big cemetery on our place and de white folks allus let deir +Niggers come to de fun'rals. De white folks had deir own sep'rate +buryin' ground, but all de coffins was home-made. Even de ones for de +settlement peoples was made right in our shop. Yassum, dey sung at de +fun'rals and you wants me to sing. I can't sing, but I'll try a little +bit." Then with a beautiful and peculiar rhythm only attained by the +southern Negro, she chanted: + + 'Come-ye-dat-love-de-Lord + And-let-your-joys-be-known.' + +"A rooster crowin' outside your door means company's comin' and a +squinch owl means sho' death. Dose are all de signs I kin 'member and I +don't 'member nothin' 'bout slavery remedies. + +"Yassir, dey useter give us a nickel or 10 cents sometimes so us could +buy candy from de store." Asked if she remembered patterollers she gave +her sly chuckle and said: "I sho' does. One time dey come to our house +to hunt for some strange Niggers. Dey didn't find 'em but I was so +skeered I hid de whole time dey was dar. Yassir, de Ku Kluxers raised +cain 'round dar too. + +"I 'members de day well when Marster told us us was free. I was glad and +didn't know what I was glad 'bout. Den 'bout 200 Yankee soldiers come +and dey played music right dar by de roadside. Dat was de fust drum and +fife music I ever heared. Lots of de Niggers followed 'em on off wid +just what dey had on. None of our Niggers went and lots of 'em stayed +right on atter freedom. + +"Four years atter dat, I left Edgefield and come here wid my old man. Us +had six chilluns. My old man died six years ago right dar 'cross de road +and I'se livin' here wid my daughter. I can't wuk no more. I tried to +hoe a little out dar in de field last year and I fell down and I hasn't +tried no more since. + +"I went once not so long ago to see my white folkses. Dey gived me a +dollar to spend for myself and I went 'cross de street and buyed me some +snuff--de fust I had had for a long time. Dey wanted to know if I had +ever got de old age pension and said dat if I had been close to dem I +would have had it 'fore now." + + + + +[HW: Ex. Slv. #6] + +[HW: MARSHAL BUTLER] +Subject: Slavery Days And After +District: No. 1 W.P.A. +Editor and Research: Joseph E. Jaffee +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee + +[HW: (This copy has photog. attached.)] + + +Slavery Days And After + +I'se Marshal Butler, [HW: 88] years old and was born on December 25. I +knows it was Christmas Day for I was a gift to my folks. Anyhow, I'se +the only niggah that knows exactly how old he be. I disremembers the +year but you white folks can figure et out. + +[Illustration] + +My mammy was Harriet Butler and my pappy was John Butler and we all was +raised in Washington-Wilkes. + +Mammy was a Frank Collar niggah and her man was of the tribe of Ben +Butler, some miles down de road. Et was one of dem trial +marriages--they'se tried so hard to see each other but old Ben Butler +says two passes a week war enuff to see my mammy on de Collar +plantation. When de war was completed pappy came home to us. We wuz a +family of ten--four females called Sally, Liza, Ellen and Lottie and six +strong bucks called Charlie, Elisha, Marshal, Jack, Heywood and little +Johnnie, [TR: 'cuz he war' marked out] de baby. + +De Collar plantation wuz big and I don't know de size of it. Et must +have been big for dere war [HW: 250] niggahs aching to go to work--I +guess they mus' have been aching after de work wuz done. Marse Frank +bossed the place hisself--dere war no overseers. We raised cotton, +corn, wheat and everything we un's et. Dere war no market to bring de +goods to. Marse Frank wuz like a foodal lord of back history as my good +for nothing grandson would say--he is the one with book-larning from +Atlanta. Waste of time filling up a nigger's head with dat trash--what +that boy needs is muscle-ology--jes' look at my head and hands. + +My mammy was maid in de Collar's home and she had many fine +dresses--some of them were give to her by her missus. Pappy war a field +nigger for ole Ben Butler and I worked in the field when I wuz knee high +to a grasshopper. We uns et our breakfast while et war dark and we +trooped to the fields at sun-up, carrying our lunch wid us. Nothing +fancy but jes' good rib-sticking victuals. We come in from the fields at +sun-down and dere were a good meal awaiting us in de slave quarters. My +good Master give out rations every second Monday and all day Monday wuz +taken to separate the wheat from the chaff--that is--I mean the victuals +had to be organized to be marched off to de proper depository. + +Before we uns et we took care of our mules. I had a mule named George--I +know my mule--he was a good mule. + + "Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee, this mornin'. + Yes, I hollow at the mule, and the + mule would not gee. + An' I hit him across the head with + the single-tree, so soon." + +Yes, Boss-man I remembers my mule. + +Marse Frank gave mammy four acres of ground to till for herself and us +childrens. We raised cotton--yes-sah! one bale of it and lots of garden +truck. Our boss-man give us Saturday as a holiday to work our four +acres. + +All the niggers worked hard--de cotton pickers had to pick 200 pounds of +cotton a day and if a nigger didn't, Marse Frank would take de nigger to +the barn and beat him with a switch. He would tell de nigger to hollow +loud as he could and de nigger would do so. Then the old Mistress would +come in and say! "What are you doing Frank?" "Beating a nigger" would be +his answer. "You let him alone, he is my nigger" and both Marse Frank +and de whipped nigger would come out of the barn. We all loved Marse and +the Mistress. No, we wuz never whipped for stealing--we never stole +anything in dose days--much. + +We sure froliked Saturday nights. Dat wuz our day to howl and we howled. +Our gals sure could dance and when we wuz thirsty we had lemonade and +whiskey. No sah! we never mixed [HW: no] whiskey with [HW: no] +water.--Dem dat wanted lemonade got it--de gals all liked it. Niggers +never got drunk those days--we wuz scared of the "Paddle-Rollers." +Um-m-h and swell music. A fiddle and a tin can and one nigger would beat +his hand on the can and another nigger would beat the strings on the +[HW: fiddle] [TR: 'can' marked out.] with broom straws. It wuz almos' +like a banjo. I remembers we sung "Little Liza Jane" and "Green Grows +the Willow Tree". De frolik broke up in de morning--about two +o'clock--and we all scattered to which ever way we wuz going. + +We put on clean clothes on Sunday and go to church. We went to de white +church. Us niggars sat on one side and de white folks sat on the other. +We wuz baptized in de church--de "pool-room" wuz right in de church. + +If we went visiting we had to have a pass. If nigger went out without a +pass de "Paddle-Rollers" would get him. De white folks were the +"Paddle-Rollers" and had masks on their faces. They looked like niggers +wid de devil in dere eyes. They used no paddles--nothing but straps--wid +de belt buckle fastened on. + +Yes sah! I got paddled. Et happened dis way. I'se left home one Thursday +to see a gal on the Palmer plantation--five miles away. Some gal! No, I +didn't get a pass--de boss was so busy! Everything was fine until my +return trip. I wuz two miles out an' three miles to go. There come de +"Paddle-Rollers" I wuz not scared--only I couldn't move. They give me +thirty licks--I ran the rest of the way home. There was belt buckles all +over me. I ate my victuals off de porch railing. Some gal! Um-m-h. Was +worth that paddlin' to see that gal--would do it over again to see Mary +de next night. + + "O Jane! love me lak you useter, + O Jane! chew me lak you useter, + Ev'y time I figger, my heart gits bigger, + Sorry, sorry, can't be yo' piper any mo". + +Um-m-mh--Some gal! + +We Niggers were a healthy lot. If we wuz really sick Marse Frank would +send for Doctor Fielding Ficklin of Washington. If jus' a small cold de +nigger would go to de woods and git catnip and roots and sich things. If +tummy ache--dere was de Castor oil--de white folks say children cry for +it--I done my cryin' afterwards. For sore throat dere was alum. +Everybody made their own soap--if hand was burned would use soap as a +poultice and place it on hand. Soap was made out of grease, potash and +water and boiled in a big iron pot. If yo' cut your finger use kerozene +wid a rag around it. Turpentine was for sprains and bad cuts. For +constipation use tea made from sheep droppings and if away from home de +speed of de feet do not match de speed of this remedy. + +No, boss, I'se not superstitious and I'se believe in no signs. I jes' +carry a rabbits' foot for luck. But I do believe the screeching of an +owl is a sign of death. I found et to be true. I had an Uncle named +Haywood. He stayed at my house and was sick for a month but wasn't so +bad off. One night uncle had a relapse and dat same night a screech owl +come along and sat on de top of de house and he--I mean the +owl,--"whooed" three times and next morning uncle got "worser" and at +eleven o'clock he died. + +I does believe in signs. When de rooster crows in the house it is sign +of a stranger coming. If foot itches you is going to walk on strange +land. If cow lows at house at night death will be 'round de house in +short time. If sweeping out ashes at night dat is bad luck for you is +sweeping out your best friend. Remember, your closest friend is your +worst enemy. + +If you want to go a courtin'--et would take a week or so to get your +gal. Sometimes some fool nigger would bring a gal a present--like +"pulled-candy" and sich like. I had no time for sich foolishness. You +would pop the question to boss man to see if he was willing for you to +marry de gal. There was no minister or boss man to marry you--no +limitations at all. Boss man would jes say: "Don't forget to bring me a +little one or two for next year" De Boss man would fix a cottage for two +and dere you was established for life. + + "If you want to go a courtin', I sho' you where to go, + Right down yonder in de house below, + Clothes all dirty an' ain't got no broom, + Ole dirty clothes all hangin' in de room. + Ask'd me to table, thought I'd take a seat, + First thing I saw was big chunk o'meat. + Big as my head, hard as a maul, + ash-cake, corn bread, bran an' all." + +Marse Frank had plenty of visitors to see him and his three gals was +excuse for anyone for miles around to come trompin' in. He enterained +mostly on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I remembers them nights for what +was left over from de feasts the niggers would eat. + +Dr. Fielding Ficklen [TR: earlier, 'Ficklin'], Bill Pope, Judge +Reese,--General Robert Toombs and Alexander Stephens from +Crawfordville--all would come to Marse Franks' big house. + +General Robert Toombs lived in Washington and had a big plantation 'bout +a mile from de city. He was a farmer and very rich. De General wuz a big +man--'bout six feet tall--heavy and had a full face. Always had +unlighted cigar in his mouth. He was the first man I saw who smoked ten +cent cigars. Niggers used to run to get "the stumps" and the lucky +nigger who got the "stump" could even sell it for a dime to the other +niggers for after all--wasn't it General Toombs' cigar? The General +never wore expensive clothes and always carried a crooked-handled +walking stick. I'se never heard him say "niggah", never heard him cuss. +He always helped us niggars--gave gave us nickles and dimes at times. + +Alexander Stephens wuz crippled. He was a little fellow--slim, dark hair +and blue eyes. Always used a rolling chair. Marse Frank would see him at +least once a month. + +I'se saw a red cloud in de west in 1860. I knew war was brewing. Marse +Frank went to war. My uncle was his man and went to war with him--Uncle +brought him back after the battle at Gettsburg--wounded. He died later. +We all loved him. My mistress and her boys ran de plantation. + +The blue-coats came to our place in '62 and 63. They took everythin' +that was not red-hot or nailed down. The war made no changes--we did the +same work and had plenty to eat. The war was now over. We didn't know we +wuz free until a year later. I'se stayed on with Marse Frank's boys for +twenty years. I'se did the same work fo $35 to $40 a year with rations +thrown in. + +I lived so long because I tells no lies, I never spent more than fifty +cents for a doctor in my life. I believe in whiskey and that kept me +going. And let me tell you--I'se always going to be a nigger till I die. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex. Slave #13] + +AN INTERVIEW ON SLAVERY OBTAINED FROM +MRS. SARAH BYRD--EX-SLAVE + + +Mrs. Sarah Byrd claims to be 95 years of age but the first impression +one receives when looking at her is that of an old lady who is very +active and possessing a sweet clear voice. When she speaks you can +easily understand every word and besides this, each thought is well +expressed. Often during the interview she would suddenly break out in a +merry laugh as if her own thoughts amused her. + +Mrs. Sarah Byrd was born in Orange County Virginia the youngest of three +children. During the early part of her childhood her family lived in +Virginia her mother Judy Newman and father Sam Goodan each belonging to +a different master. Later on the family became separated the father was +sold to a family in East Tennessee and the mother and children were +bought by Doctor Byrd in Augusta, Georgia. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked +"Chile in them days so many families were broke up and some went one way +and der others went t'other way; and you nebber seed them no more. +Virginia wuz a reg'lar slave market." + +Dr. Byrd owned a large plantation and raised such products as peas +potatoes, cotton corn (etc). There were a large number of slaves. Mrs. +Byrd was unable to give the exact number but remarked. "Oh Lordy Chile I +nebber could tell just how many slaves that man had t'wuz too many uv +em." + +The size of the plantation required that the slaves be classified +according to the kind of work each was supposed to do. There were the +"cotton pickers", the "plow hands," the "hoe hands," the "rail +splitters," etc. "My very fust job," remarked Mrs. Byrd, "wuz that uv +cotton picking." Mrs Byrd's mother was a full [TR: field?] hand. + +Houses on the Byrd Plantation were made of logs and the cracks were +daubed with mud. The chimnies were made of mud and supported by sticks. + +Each fireplace varied in length from 3 to 4 feet because they serve the +purpose of stoves; and the family meals were prepared in those large +fireplaces often two and three pots were suspended from a rod running +across the fireplace. Most of the log houses consisted of one room; +however if the family was very large two rooms were built. The +furnishings consisted only of a home-made table, benches, and a +home-made bed, the mattress of which was formed by running ropes from +side to side forming a framework. Mattresses were made by filling a tick +with wheatstraw. The straw was changed each season. Laughing Mrs. Byrd +remarked, "Yessirree, them houses wuz warmer than some are ter day." + +Doctor Byrd was rather kind and tried to help his slaves as much as +possible, but according to Mrs. Byrd his wife was very mean and often +punished her slaves without any cause. She never gave them anything but +the coarsest foods. Although there of plenty of milk and butter, she +only gave it to the families after it had soured. "Many a day I have +seed butter just sittin around in pans day after day till it got good +and spoiled then she would call some uv us and give it ter us. Oh she +wuz a mean un," remarked Mrs. Byrd. Continuing Mrs. Byrd remarked "she +would give us bread that had been cooked a week." Mr. Byrd gave his +slave families good clothes. Twice a year clothing was distributed among +his families. Every June summer clothes were given and every October +winter clothes were given. Here Mrs. Byrd remarked "I nebber knowed what +it wuz not ter have a good pair uv shoes." Cloth for the dresses and +shirts was spun on the plantation by the slaves. + +The treatment of the slaves is told in Mrs. Byrd's own words: + +"We wuz always treated nice by Master Byrd and he always tried ter save +us punishment at the hands uv his wife but that 'oman wuz somethin' +nother. I nebber will ferget once she sent me after some brush broom and +told me ter hurry back. Well plums wuz jest gitting ripe so I just took +my time and et all the plums I wanted after that I come on back ter the +house. When I got there she called me upstairs, 'Sarah come here.' Up +the steps I went and thar she stood with that old cow hide. She struck +me three licks and I lost my balance and tumbled backward down the +stairs. I don't know how come I didn't hurt myself but the Lord wuz wid +me and I got up and flew. I could hear her just hollering 'Come back +here! come back here!' but I ant stop fer nothing. That night at supper +while I wuz fanning the flies from the table she sed ter the doctor. +'Doctor what you think? I had ter whip that little devil ter day. I sent +her after brush broom and she went off and eat plums instead of hurrying +back.' The doctor just looked at her and rolled his eyes but never sed a +word. There wuz very little whipping on Byrd's plantation, but I have +gone ter bed many a night and heard 'em gittin whipped on the plantation +next ter us. If dey runned away they would put the hounds on 'em." +Concluding her story on treatmeant Mrs. Byrd remarked "Yessirree I could +tell that 'oman wuz mean the first time I seed her after we came from +Virginia cause she had red eyes." "Pader rollers" stayed busy all the +time trying to find slaves off their plantations without passes. +Marriages were performed by having the couple jump the broom. If the +[TR: 'couple' deleted, handwritten words above illegible] belonged to +different masters oftentimes one master would purchase the other; but +should neither wish to sell the man would then have to get passes to +visit his wife on her plantation. "Dey would leave the plantation on +Saturday afternoons and on Sunday afternoon you could see 'em coming in +just lak they wuz coming from church," remarked Mrs. Byrd. + +There were frolics on the Byrd plantation any time that the slaves chose +to have them. "Yes sir we could frolic all we want ter. I use ter be so +glad when Saturday night came cause I knowed us wuz go have a frolic and +I wouldn't have a bit 'uv appetite I would tell my ma we gwine dance ter +night I dont want nothin teet. Yes sir us would frolic all night long +sometimes when the sun rise on Sunday morning us would all be layin +round or settin on the floor. They made music on the banjo, by knocking +bones, and blowing quills." + +The Byrds did not provide a church on their plantation for their slaves +neither were they allowed to attend the white church; instead they had +prayer meetings in their own cabins where they could sing pray and shout +as much as they wished. "I nebber will fergit the last prayer meeting us +had," remarked Mrs. Byrd. "Two woman named Ant Patsy and Ant Prudence +came over from the next plantation. I believed they slipped over there +wid out gittin a pass. Anyway, they old master came there and whipped +'em and made 'em go home. I reckin he thought us wuz praying ter git +free." Continuing-- + +I nebber will fergit the fust time I set eyes on them thar Yankees. I +done already heard 'bout how they wuz going round ter the different +plantations taking the horses and carrying away the money and other +valuable things, but they had nebber come ter our place. So this day I +saw 'em coming cross the railroad track and they look jest lack thunder +there wuz so meny 'uv em. When they got ter our house every body wuz +sleep and they knocked and knocked. We had a bad dog that didn't take no +foolishness off nobody, so when he kept barking them Yankees cursed him +and do you know he heshed up? I sid, 'Dear Lord what sort of man is that +all he got ter do is curse that dog and he don't even growl.' Well, when +they finally got in all they wanted wuz ter know if Mr. Byrd could help +feed the soldiers until Monday. Mr. Byrd told 'em he would. Soon after +that the war ended and we wuz called ter gether and told us wuz free. +Some uv'em stayed there and some uv'em left. Us left and moved ter +another plantation." + +Mrs. Byrd who had previously given the writer an interview on folk-lore +asked the writer to return at a later date and she would try to think up +more information concerning superstitions, conjure, etc. The writer +thanked her for the interview and promised to make another visit soon. + + + + +Ex-Slave #18 + +INTERVIEW WITH (MRS.) MARIAH CALLAWAY EX-SLAVE + +[TR: A significant portion of this interview was repeated in typescript; +where there was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used. Where a +completely different word was substituted, 'the original' refers to the +typewritten page.] + + +Mrs. Mariah Callaway sat in a chair opposite the writer and told her +freely of the incidents of slavery as she remembered them. To a casual +observer it will come as a surprise to know the woman was blind. She is +quite old, but her thoughts were clearly and intelligently related to +the writer. + +Mrs. Callaway was born in Washington, Wilkes County, Georgia probably +during the year 1852, as she estimated her age to be around 12 or 13 +years when freedom was declared. She does not remember her mother and +father, as her mother died the second day after she was born, so the job +of rearing her and a small brother fell on her grandmother, Mariah +Willis, for whom she was named. Mrs. Callaway stated that the old +master, Jim Willis, kept every Negro's age in a Bible: but after he died +the Bible was placed upstairs in the gallery and most of the pages were +destroyed. The following is a story of the purchase of Mrs. Callaway's +grandfather as related by her. + +"My grandfather come directly from Africa and I never shall forget the +story he told us of how he and other natives were fooled on board a ship +by the white slave traders using red handkerchiefs as enticement. When +they reached America, droves of them were put on the block and sold to +people all over the United States. + +The master and mistress of their plantation were Mr. Jim Willis and Mrs. +Nancy Willis who owned hundreds of acres of land and a large number of +slaves. Mrs. Callaway was unable to give an exact number but stated the +Willises were considered wealthy people. On their plantation were raised +sheep, goats, mules, horses, cows, etc. Cotton, corn and vegetables were +also raised. The Willis family was a large one consisting of six +children. 4 boys and 2 girls. Their home was a large two-story frame +house which was set apart from the slave quarters. + +Slave homes on the Willis plantation differed in no respect from the +usual type found elsewhere. All homes were simple log cabins grouped +together, forming what is known as slave quarters. + +The Willis family as kind and religious and saw to it that their slaves +were given plenty of food to eat. Every Monday night each family was +given its share of food for the week. Each grown person was given a peck +of corn [TR: meal on original page] and three pounds of meat; besides +the vegetables, etc. On Tuesday morning each family was given an ample +amount of real flour for biscuits. + +Many of the slave families, especially Mrs. Callaway's family, were +given the privilege of earning money by selling different products. "My +grandfather owned a cotton patch," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "and the +master would loan him a mule so he could plow it at night. Two boys +would each hold a light for him to work by. He preferred working at +night to working on his holidays. My master had a friend in Augusta, +Ga., by the name of Steve Heard and just before my grandfather got ready +to sell his cotton, the master would write Mr. Heard and tell him that +he was sending cotton by Sam and wanted his sold and a receipt returned +to him. He also advised him to give all the money received to Sam. When +grandfather returned he would be loaded down with sugar, cheese, tea, +mackerel, etc. for his family." + +When the women came home from the fields they had to spin 7 cuts, so +many before supper and so many after supper. A group of women were then +selected to weave the cuts of thread into cloth. Dyes were made from red +shoe berries and later used to dye this cloth different colors. All +slaves received clothing twice a year, spring and winter. Mr. Jim Willis +was known for his kindness to his slaves and saw to it that they were +kept supplied with Sunday clothes and shoes as well as work clothing. A +colored shoemaker was required to keep the plantation supplied with +shoes; and everyone was given a pair of Sunday shoes which they kept +shined with a mixture of egg white and soot. + +The size of the Willis Plantation and the various crops and cattle +raised required many different types of work. There were the plow hands, +the hoe hands, etc. Each worker had a required amount of work to +complete each day and an overseer was hired by slave owners to keep +check on this phase of the work. "We often waited until the overseer got +behind a hill, and then we would lay down our hoe and call on God to +free us, my grandfather told me," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "However, I +was a pet in the Willis household and did not have any work to do except +play with the small children. I was required to keep their hands and +faces clean. Sometimes I brought in chips to make the fires. We often +kept so much noise playing in the upstairs bedroom that the master would +call to us and ask that we keep quiet." Older women on the plantation +acted as nurses for all the small children and babies while their +parents worked in the fields. The mistress would keep a sharp eye on the +children also to see that they were well cared for. A slave's life was +very valuable to their owners. + +Punishment was seldom necessary on the Willis plantation as the master +and mistress did everything possible to make their slaves happy; and to +a certain extent indulged them. They were given whisky liberally from +their master's still; and other choice food on special occasions. "I +remember once," remarked Mrs. Callaway, "my aunt Rachel burned the +biscuits and the young master said to her, "Rachel, you nursed me and I +promised not to ever whip you, so don't worry about burning the bread." +My mistress was very fond of me, too, and gave me some of everything +that she gave her own children, tea cakes, apples, etc. She often told +me that she was my mother and was supposed to look after me. In spite of +the kindness of the Willis family there were some slaves who were +unruly; so the master built a house off to itself and called it the +Willis jail. Here he would keep those whom he had to punish. I have +known some slaves to run away on other plantations and the hounds would +bite plugs out of their legs." + +The Willis family did not object to girls and boys courting. There were +large trees, and often in the evenings the boys from other plantations +would come over to see the girls on the Willis plantation. They would +stand in groups around the trees, laughing and talking. If the courtship +reached the point of marriage a real marriage ceremony was performed +from the Bible and the man was given a pass to visit his wife weekly. +Following a marriage a frolic took place and the mistress saw to it that +everyone was served nice foods for the occasion. + +Frolics were common occurrences on the Willis plantation, also quilting +parties. Good foods consisting of pies, cakes, chicken, brandied +peaches, etc. "Dancing was always to be expected by anyone attending +them," remarked Mrs. Callaway. "Our master always kept two to three +hundred gallons of whisky and didn't mind his slaves drinking. I can +remember my master taking his sweetened dram every morning, and often he +gave me some in a tumbler. On Christmas Day big dinners were given for +all of the slaves and a few ate from the family's table after they had +finished their dinner." + +Medical care was promptly given a slave when he became ill. Special care +was always given them for the Willis family had a personal interest in +their slaves. "On one occasion," remarked Mrs. Calloway, "the scarlet +fever broke out among the slaves and to protect the well ones it became +necessary to build houses in a field for those who were sick. This +little settlement later became know as "Shant Field." Food was carried +to a hill and left so that the sick persons could get it without coming +in contact with the others. To kill the fever, sticks of fat pine were +dipped in tar and set on fire and then placed all over the field." + +Religion played as important part in the lives of the slaves, and such +[TR: much?] importance was attached to their prayer meetings. There were +no churches, provided and occasionally they attended the white churches; +but more often they held their prayer meetings in their own cabins. +Prayers and singing was in a moaning fashion, and you often heard this +and nothing more. On Sunday afternoons everyone found a seat around the +mulberry tree and the young mistress would conduct Sunday School. + +Concerning the Civil War, Mrs. Callaway related the following story: + +"When the war broke out my mistress' home became a sewing center and +deifferent women in the neighborhood would come there every day to make +clothes for the soldiers. On each bed was placed the vests, coats, +shirts, pants, and caps. One group did all the cutting, one the +stitching, and one the fitting. Many women cried while they served [TR: +sewed?] heart-broken because their husbands and sons had to go to the +war. One day the Yanks came to our plantation and took all of the best +horses. In one of their wagons were bales of money which they had taken. +Money then was blue in color; of course, there was silver and gold. +After taking the horses they drank as much whisky as they could hold and +then filled their canteens. The rest of the whisky they filled with +spit. The master didn't interfere for fear of the long guns which they +carried." + +After the war some of the slaves left the plantation to seek their +fortune; others remained, renting land from the Willis family or working +with them on a share crop basis. + +As a conclusion Mrs. Callaway remarked: "My folks were good and I know +[HW: they're] in heaven." Mrs. Callaway is deeply religious and all +during the interview would constantly drift to the subject of religion. +She is well cared for by her nine children, six girls and three boys. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +SUSAN CASTLE, Age 78 +1257 W. Hancock Ave. +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Augusta, Georgia + + +On a beautiful morning in April, the interviewer found Susan sitting in +the door of her cabin. When asked if she would like to talk about the +old plantation days, she replied; "Yes Ma'am, I don't mind tellin' what +I know, but for dat I done forgot I sho' ain't gwine make nothin' up. +For one thing, I ain't never lived on no plantation. I was a house +servant in town." She added: "Do you mind me axin' you one favor?" +Consent was given and she continued: "Dat is, please don't call me Aunt +Susan; it makes me feel lak I was a hundred years old. + +"I was borned in Clarke County, March 7, 1860; I believes dat's what dey +say. Mudder was named Fannie and Pappy's name was Willis. Us chillun +called 'im Pappy lak he was de onliest one in de world. He fust belonged +to Marse Maxwell of Savannah, Georgia. I was so little I disremembers +how Pappy come by de name of Castle. In all de seben of us chillun, I +didn't have but one brudder, and his name was Johnny. My five sisters +was Mary, Louvenia, Rosa, Fannie, and Sarah. All I 'members 'bout us as +chilluns was dat us played lak chilluns will do. + +"In de quarters us had old timey beds and cheers, but I'll tell you whar +I slept most times. Hit was on a cot right at de foot of Mist'ess' bed. +I stayed at de big house most of de time at night, and 'fore bedtime I +sot close by Mist'ess on a foot stool she had special for me. + +"All I ricollects 'bout my gran'ma was she belonged to General Thomas +R.R. Cobb, and us called 'im Marse Thomas. Gran'ma Susan wouldn't do +right so Marse Thomas sold her on de block. + +"Us had evvything good to eat. Marse Thomas was a rich man and fed 'is +Niggers well. Dey cooked in a big open fireplace and biled greens and +some of de udder vittals in a great big pot what swung on a rack. Meat, +fish and chickens was fried in a griddle iron what was sot on a flat +topped trivet wid slits to let de fire thoo. Dey called it a trivet +'cause it sot on three legs and hot coals was raked up under it. Hoe +cakes made out of cornmeal and wheat flour sho' was good cooked on dat +griddle. 'Tatoes was roasted in de ashes, and dey cooked bread what dey +called ash cake in de ashes. Pound cake, fruit cake, light bread and +biscuits was baked in a great big round pot, only dey warn't as deep as +de pots dey biled in; dese was called ovens. Makes me hongry to think +'bout all dem good vittals now. + +"Oh! Yes Ma'am, us had plenty 'possums. Pappy used to cotch so many +sometimes he jest put 'em in a box and let us eat 'em when us got ready. +'Possums tasted better atter dey was put up in a box and fattened a +while. Us didn't have many rabbits; dey warn't as much in style den as +dey is now, and de style of eatin' 'possums lak dey done in slav'ry +times, dat is 'bout over. Dey eats 'em some yet, but it ain't stylish no +mo'. Us chillun used to go fishin' in Moore's Branch; one would stand on +one side of de branch wid a stick, and one on de udder side would roust +de fishes out. When dey come to de top and jump up, us would hit 'em on +de head, and de grown folks would cook 'em. Dere warn't but one gyarden, +but dat had plenty in it for evvybody. + +"In summer time us wore checkedy dresses made wid low waistes and +gethered skirts, but in winter de dresses was made out of linsey-woolsey +cloth and underclothes was made out of coarse unbleached cloth. +Petticoats had bodice tops and de draw's was made wid waistes too. Us +chillun didn't know when Sunday come. Our clothes warn't no diffu'nt den +from no udder day. Us wore coarse, heavy shoes in winter, but in summer +us went splatter bar feets. + +"Marse Thomas was jest as good as he could be, what us knowed of 'im. +Miss Marion, my Mist'ess, she won't as good to us as Marse Thomas, but +she was all right too. Dey had a heap of chillun. Deir twin boys died, +and de gals was Miss Callie, Miss Sallie, Miss Marion (dey called her +Miss Birdie), and Miss Lucy, dat Lucy Cobb Institute was named for. My +mudder was Miss Lucy's nuss. Marse Thomas had a big fine melonial +(colonial) house on Prince Avenue wid slave quarters in de back yard of +his 10-acre lot. He owned 'most nigh dat whole block 'long dar. + +"Oh! dey had 'bout a hundred slaves I'm sho', for dere was a heap of +'em. De overseer got 'em up 'bout five o'clock in de mornin' and dat +breakfust sho' had better be ready by seben or else somebody gwine to +have to pay for it. Dey went to deir cabins 'bout ten at night. Marse +was good, but he would whup us if we didn't do right. Miss Marion was +allus findin' fault wid some of us. + +"Jesse was de car'iage driver. Car'iages was called phaetons den. Dey +had high seats up in front whar de driver sot, and de white folks sot in +de car'iage below. Jesse went to de War wid Marse Thomas, and was wid +him when he was kilt at Fred'ricksburg, Virginia. I heard 'em sey one of +his men shot 'im by mistake, but I don't know if dat's de trufe or not. +I do know dey sho' had a big grand fun'al 'cause he was a big man and a +general in de War. + +"Some of de slaves on Marse Thomas' place knowed how to read. Aunt Vic +was one of de readers what read de Bible. But most of de Niggers didn't +have sense enough to learn so dey didn't bother wid 'em. Dey had a +church way downtown for de slaves. It was called Landon's Chapel for +Rev. Landon, a white man what preached dar. Us went to Sunday School +too. Aunt Vic read de Bible sometimes den. When us jined de chu'ch dey +sung: 'Amazing Grace How Sweet de Sound.' + +"Marse Thomas had lots of slaves to die, and dey was buried in de +colored folks cemetery what was on de river back of de Lucas place. I +used to know what dey sung at fun'als way back yonder, but I can't bring +it to mind now. + +"No Ma'am, none of Marse Thomas' Niggers ever run away to de Nawth. He +was good to his Niggers. Seems lak to me I 'members dem patterollers run +some of Marse Thomas' Niggers down and whupped 'em and put 'em in jail. +Old Marse had to git 'em out when dey didn't show up at roll call next +mornin'. + +"Marse Thomas allus put a man or de overseer on a hoss or a mule when he +wanted to send news anywhar. He was a big man and had too many slaves to +do anything hisse'f. + +"I 'spect dey done den lak dey does now, slipped 'round and got in +devilment atter de day's wuk was done. Marse Thomas was allus havin' +swell elegant doin's at de big house. De slaves what was house servants +didn't have no time off only atter dinner on Sundays. + +"Christmas was somepin' else. Us sho' had a good time den. Dey give de +chilluns china dolls and dey sont great sacks of apples, oranges, candy, +cake, and evvything good out to de quarters. At night endurin' Christmas +us had parties, and dere was allus some Nigger ready to pick de banjo. +Marse Thomas allus give de slaves a little toddy too, but when dey was +havin' deir fun if dey got too loud he sho' would call 'em down. I was +allus glad to see Christmas come. On New Year's Day, de General had big +dinners and invited all de high-falutin' rich folks. + +"My mudder went to de corn shuckin's off on de plantations, but I was +too little to go. Yes Ma'am, us sho' did dance and sing funny songs way +back in dem days. Us chillun used to play 'Miss Mary Jane,' and us would +pat our hands and walk on broom grass. I don't know nothin' 'bout +charms. Dey used to tell de chillun dat when old folks died dey turned +to witches. I ain't never seed no ghostes, but I sho' has felt 'em. Dey +made de rabbits jump over my grave and had me feelin' right cold and +clammy. Mudder used to sing to Miss Lucy to git her to sleep, but I +don't 'member de songs. + +"Marster was mighty good to his slaves when dey got sick. He allus sont +for Dr. Crawford Long. He was de doctor for de white folks and Marster +had him for de slaves. + +"My mudder said she prayed to de Lord not to let Niggers be slaves all +deir lifes and sho' 'nough de yankees comed and freed us. Some of de +slaves shouted and hollered for joy when Miss Marion called us togedder +and said us was free and warn't slaves no more. Most of 'em went right +out and left 'er and hired out to make money for deyselfs. + +"I stayed on wid my mudder and she stayed on wid Miss Marion. Miss +Marion give her a home on Hull Street 'cause mudder was allus faithful +and didn't never leave her. Atter Miss Marion died, mudder wukked for +Miss Marion's daughter, Miss Callie Hull, in Atlanta. Den Miss Callie +died and mudder come on back to Athens. 'Bout ten years ago she died. + +"I wukked for Mrs. Burns on Jackson Street a long time, but she warn't +no rich lady lak de Cobbs. De last fambly I wukked for was Dr. Hill. I +nussed 'til atter de chillun got too big for dat, and den I done de +washin' 'til dis misery got in my limbs." + +When asked about marriage customs, she laughed and replied: "I was +engaged, but I didn't marry though, 'cause my mudder 'posed me marryin'. +I had done got my clothes bought and ready. Mrs. Hull helped me fix my +things. My dress was a gray silk what had pearl beads on it and was +trimmed in purple. + +"What does I think 'bout freedom? I think it's best to be free, 'cause +you can do pretty well as you please. But in slav'ry time if de Niggers +had a-behaved and minded deir Marster and Mist'ess dey wouldn't have had +sich a hard time. Mr. Jeff Davis 'posed freedom, but Mr. Abraham Lincoln +freed us, and he was all right. Booker Washin'ton was a great man, and +done all he knowed how to make somepin' out of his race. + +"De reason I jined de church was dat de Lord converted me. He is our +guide. I think people ought to be 'ligious and do good and let deir +lights shine 'cause dat's de safest way to go to Heben." + +At the conclusion of the interview Susan asked: "Is dat all you gwine to +ax me? Well, I sho' enjoyed talkin' to you. I hopes I didn't talk loud +'nough for dem other Niggers to hear me, 'cause if you open your mouth +dey sho' gwine tell it. Yes Ma'am, I'se too old to wuk now and I'se +thankful for de old age pension. If it warn't for dat, since dis misery +tuk up wid me, I would be done burnt up, I sho' would. Good-bye +Mist'ess." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 2 +Ex-Slave #17] + +ELLEN CLAIBOURN +808 Campbell Street +(Richmond County) +Augusta, Georgia + +By: +(Mrs.) Margaret Johnson--Editor +Federal Writers' Project +Dist. 2 +Augusta, Ga. + + +Ellen was born August 19, 1852, on the plantation of Mr. Hezie Boyd in +Columbia County, her father being owned by Mr. Hamilton on an adjoining +plantation. She remembers being given, at the age of seven, to her young +mistress, Elizabeth, who afterward was married to Mr. Gabe Hendricks. At +her new home she served as maid, and later as nurse. The dignity of her +position as house servant has clung to her through the years, forming +her speech in a precision unusual in her race. + +"I 'member all our young marsters was drillin' way back in 1860, an' the +Confed'rate War did not break out till in April 1861. My mistis' young +husband went to the war, an' all the other young marsters 'round us. +Young marster's bes' friend came to tell us all goodby, an' he was +killed in the first battle he fought in. + +"Befo' the war, when we was little, we mostly played dolls, and had doll +houses, but sometime young marster would come out on the back porch and +play the fiddle for us. When he played 'Ole Dan Tucker' all the peoples +uster skip and dance 'bout and have a good time. My young mistis played +on the piano. + +"My granpa was so trusty and hon'able his old marster give him and +granma they freedom when he died. He give him a little piece of land and +a mule, and some money, and tole him he didn't b'long to nobody, and +couldn't work for nobody 'cept for pay. He couldn't free granpa's +chilrun, 'cause they already b'longed to their young marsters and +mistises. He worked for Mr. Hezie Boyd one year as overseer, but he say +he didn't wanter lose his religion trying to make slaves work, so he +took to preaching. He rode 'bout on his mule and preach at all the +plantations. I never 'member seein' granma, but granpa came to see us +of'en. He wore a long tail coat and a _big_ beaver hat. In that hat +granma had always pack a pile of ginger cakes for us chilrun. They was +big an' thick, an' longish, an' we all stood 'round to watch him take +off his hat. Every time he came to see us, granma sent us clothes and +granpa carried 'em in his saddle bags. You ever see any saddle bags, +ma'am? Well they could sho' hold a heap of stuff! + +"My pa uster come two or three times a week to our plantashun, an' just +so he was back by sun-up for work, nobody didn't say nothin' to him. He +just lived 'bout three or four miles way from us. + +"Yes ma'am we went to church, and the white preachers preached for us. +We sat in the back of the church just like we sits in the back of the +street cars now-days. Some of the house servants would go one time and +some another. All the hands could go but ev'rybody had to has a pass, to +sho' who they b'long to. + +"Yes ma'am, the slaves was whipped if they didn't do they taskwork, or +if they steal off without a pass, but if our marster found a overseer +whipped the slaves overmuch he would git rid of him. We was always +treated good and kind and well cared for, and we was happy. + +"No ma'am, no overseer ever went to marster's table, or in the house +'cept to speak to marster. Marster had his overseers' house and give 'em +slaves to cook for 'em and wait on 'em, but they never go anywhere with +the fam'ly. + +"The house servants' houses was better than the fiel'-hands'--and +Marster uster buy us cloth from the 'Gusta Fact'ry in checks and plaids +for our dresses, but all the fiel'-hands clothes was made out of cloth +what was wove on mistis' own loom. Sometime the po' white folks in the +neighborhood would come an' ask to make they cloth on mistis' loom, and +she always let 'em. + +"Yes, ma'am, we had seamsters to make all the clothes for everybody, and +mistis had a press-room, where all the clothes was put away when they +was finished. When any body needed clothes mistis would go to the +press-room an' get 'em. + +"During the war mistis had one room all fixed up to take care of sick +soldiers. They would come stragglin' in, all sick or shot, an' sometimes +we had a room full of 'em. Mistis had one young boy to do nothin' but +look after 'em and many's the night I got up and helt the candle for 'em +to see the way to the room. + +"Oh my Gawd, I saw plenty wounded soldiers. We was right on the road to +Brightsboro, and plenty of 'em pass by. That Confed'rate war was the +terriblest, awfullest thing. + +"Nobody but me knowed where mistis buried her gold money and finger +rings and ear-rings and breat-pins. [TR: breast-pins?] I helt the candle +then, too. Mistis and marster, (he was home then) an' me went down back +of the grape arbor to the garden-house. Marster took up some planks, an' +dug a hole like a grabe and buried a big iron box with all them things +in it; then he put back the planks. Nobody ever found 'em, and after the +war was over we went and got 'em. + +"Yes, ma'am, everybody did they own work. De cook cooked, and the +washer, she didn't iron no clothes. De ironer did that. De housemaid +cleaned up, and nurse tended the chilrun. Then they was butlers and +coachmen. Oh, they was a plenty of us to do eve'ything. + +"We didn't have a stove, just a big fire place, and big oven on both +sides, and long-handle spiders. When we was fixin' up to go to Camp +Meeting to the White Oak Camp meeting grounds, they cooked chickens and +roasted pigs, and put apples in they mouth and a lot of other food--good +food too. De food peoples eat these days, you couldn't have got _nobody_ +to eat. Camp Meetin' was always in August and September. It was a good +Methodis' meetin', and eve'ybody got religion. Sometimes a preacher +would come to visit at the house, an' all the slaves was called an' he +prayed for 'em. Sometimes the young ones would laugh, an' then marster +would have 'em whipped. + +"My young mistis had a sister older than her. She married Mr. Artie +Boyd, an' they had a big weddin' but she loved her home and her mother +and father so much she wouldn't leave home. She just stayed on living +there. When her baby come she died, and I tell you, ma'am, her fun'al +was most like a weddin', with so many people an' so many flowers. All +the people from the plantashun came to the house, an' the wimmen had +they babies in they arms. One the ladies say, "How come they let all +these niggers and babies come in the house?" But marster knowed all us +loved mistis, and he call us in. Marse Artie he wrote a long letter an' +all the things he got from mistis he give back to her fam'ly an' all his +own things he give to his brother, an' then he died. Some say his heart +strings just broke 'cause mistis died, and some say he took something. + +"No, ma'am, I wasn't married till after freedom. I was married right +here in 'Gusta by Mr. Wharton, the First Baptist Church preacher, an' I +lived and worked here ever since." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 7 +Ex-Slave #19] +Adella S. Dixon +District 7 + +BERRY CLAY +OLD SLAVE STORY +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Telfair County was the home of some colored people who never were +slaves, but hired their services for wages just as the race does today. +Berry Clay, half Indian, half white, was the son of Fitema Bob Britt, a +full blood Indian, who died shortly after his son's birth. His mother +later married William Clay, whose name was taken by the children as well +as the mother. The family then moved to Macon. + +Clay, next [TR: 'to the' scratched out] oldest of five children was 89 +years old on August 5, 1936, and while he was never a slave, remembers +many incidents that took place then. Not many years after his mother +remarried, she became very ill and he recalls being lifted by his +step-father to kiss her good bye as she lay dying. After her death, the +family continued to live in South Macon where the father was employed as +overseer for a crew at the Railroad yard. + +This position often called for the punishment of slaves but he was too +loyal to his color to assist in making their lives more unhappy. His +method of carrying out orders and yet keeping a clear conscience was +unique--the slave was taken to the woods where he was supposedly laid +upon a log and severely beaten. Actually, he was made to stand to one +side and to emit loud cries which were accompanied by hard blows on the +log. The continuation of the two sounds gave any listener the impression +that some one was severely beaten. It is said that Clay, the father, +wore out several huge leather straps upon logs but that he was never +known to strike a slave. + +Mr. Wadley, by whom he was employed, was a well-known Macon citizen who +served as President of the Central of Georgia Railroad for many years. A +monument on Mulberry Street nearly opposite the Post Office is a +constant reminder of the esteem in which he was held. His plantation was +a huge one extending from the Railroad yard as far as the present site +of Mercer University. A day of rest was given the slaves about once +every three months in addition to the regular holidays which are +observed today. On holidays, "frolics" at which square dances were the +chief form of entertainment (by the music of a banjo or fiddle) were +enjoyed. Ring games were played by the children. The refreshments +usually consisted of ash cakes and barbecue. The ash cake was made by +wrapping corn pones in oak leaves and burying the whole in hot ashes. +When the leaves dried, the cake was usually done and was carefully moved +to prevent its becoming soiled. [HW: A] skillful cook could produce +cakes that were a golden brown and not at all ashy. + +The membership of the local church was composed of slaves from several +plantations. It was an old colored church with a white minister who +preached the usual doctrine of the duty of a slave to his master. The +form of service was the same as that of the white church. One unusual +feature of the plantation was its Sunday School for the Negro children. + +Courtships were very brief for as soon as a man or woman began to +manifest interest in the opposite sex, the master busied himself to +select a wife or husband and only in rare cases was the desire of the +individual considered. When the selection was made, the master read the +ceremony and gave the couple a home. He always requested, or rather +demanded, that they be fruitful. A barren woman was separated from her +husband and usually sold. + +Very little money was handled by these people. The carriage drivers were +more fortunate than the regular workers for they smuggled things to town +when they drove the master and mistress and sold them while the family +shopped or went visiting. At rare intervals, the field hands were able +to earn small sums of money in this manner. + +Food was provided by the owners and all families cooked for themselves +whether they were many or one. The weekly allotments of meal, meat, +etc., were supplemented through the use of vegetables which could always +be obtained from the fields. On special days chicken or beef was given +and each one had a sufficient amount for his needs. Hunting and fishing +were recreations in which the slaves were not allowed to participate +although they frequently went on secret excursions of this nature. All +food stuff as well as cloth for garments was produced at home. + +Clay is very superstitious, still believing in most of the signs +commonly believed in those days, because he has "watched them and found +that they are true". He stated that the screeching of the owl may be +stopped by placing a poker in the fire and allowing it to remain until +it becomes red hot. The owl will then leave, but death will invariably +follow its visit. + +The attitudes of the two races in the South regarding the war were +directly opposite. The whites beheld it as something horrible and +dreaded the losses that would necessarily be theirs. Sons and fathers +had property to be considered, but they were generous in their +contributions to the soldiers. On the other hand, the slaves rejoiced as +they looked forward to their freedom when the war was over. There were, +however, a few who were devoted to their masters to the extent that they +fought in their stead in the Confederate Army. Others remained at home +and skillfully ran the plantation and protected the women and children +until the end of the war. + +When Sherman made his famous "March to Sea", one phalanx of his army +wrought its destruction between this city and Griswoldville. A gun +factory and government shoe factory were completely destroyed. Although +the citizens gave the invaders everything they thought they desired, the +rest was destroyed in most instances. They tried to ascertain the +attitudes of the land owners toward his servants and when for any reason +they presumed that one was cruel, their vengeance was expressed through +the absolute destruction of his property. In nearly every instance smoke +houses were raided and the contents either destroyed or given away. +Barrels of syrup flowing through the yard was a common sight. + +At the end of the war, the South was placed under military rule. The +presence of the Yankee guardsmen had a psychological effect upon the +Southerners and they were very humble. + +Before the terrors of the war had subsided a new menace sprang up--the +Klu Klux Klan. While its energy was usually directed against ex-slaves, +a white man was sometimes a victim. One such occasion was recalled by +Clay. The group planned to visit a man who for some reason became +suspicious and prepared to outwit them if they came. He heated a huge +pot of water and when a part of his door was crashed in he reached +through the opening and poured gourds of boiling water upon his +assailants. They retreated, [HW: and] while they were away, he made his +way to Atlanta. + +Another group which began its operations shortly after the close of the +war was a military clan organized for the purpose of giving the +ex-slaves a knowledge of drilling and war tactics. An order to disband +was received from the "Black Horse Calvary" by the leader of the group. +His life was threatened when he failed to obey so he prepared for a +surprise visit. He fortified his house with twenty-five men on the +inside and the same number outside. When the approaching calvarymen +reached a certain point, the fifty hidden men fired at the same time. +Seven members of the band were killed and many others wounded. There was +no further interference from this group. + +Clay and his father ran a grocery store just after Emancipation. He did +not like this type of work and apprenticed himself to a painter to learn +the trade. He is still considered an excellent painter though he does +not receive much work. + +He has always taken care of himself and never "ran about" at night. He +boasts that his associates never included a dancing woman. As he has +used tobacco for sixty-five years, he does not consider it a menace to +health but states that worry will kill anyone and the man who wants to +live a long time must form the habit of not worrying. His Indian +blood--the high cheek bones, red skin and straight black hair now tinged +with grey make this unmistakable--has probably played a large part in +the length of his life. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 7 +Ex-Slave #22] +Adella S. Dixon +District 7 + +PIERCE CODY +OLD SLAVE STORY +[HW: About 88] +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Pierce Cody was the eldest son of Elbert and Dorothy Cody. His father +was born in Richmond, Virginia, his mother in Warren County. When the +Emancipation Proclamation was signed, he, the eldest child in a large +family, was in his early teens. This group lived on the place owned by +Mr. Bob Cody, [HW: whose] family was a group of ardent believers in the +Hardshell Baptist faith. So firm was their faith that a church of this +denomination was provided for the slaves and each one required to become +a member. A white minister invariably preached the then worn out +doctrine of a slave's duty to his master, the reward of faithfulness and +the usual admonition against stealing. + +The members of this church were required to fast on one day of the week, +the fast lasting all day until seven in the evening. The small boys, +both white and colored, resenting the abstinence from food, usually +secured a reserve supply which was cached during the week and secretly +enjoyed on fast day. Fish were plentiful in all the streams and they +sometimes sneaked away to the river and after enjoying the sport, cooked +their catch on the banks of the stream. + +Groups of ministers--30 to 40--then traveled from one plantation to +another spreading the gospel, and were entertained as they traveled. On +one occasion the group arrived at the Cody estate on fast day. The boys +having been on one of their secret fishing trips had caught so many +perch that they were not able to consume them on the banks, so had +smuggled them to the kitchen, coaxed the cook to promise to prepare +them, and had also sworn her to absolute secrecy regarding their origin. +Although the kitchen was not directly connected with the "big house", +the guests soon detected the aroma of fresh fish and requested that +they be allowed to partake of this delicacy. When the boys, as well as +the servants, heard this, they became panicky for they feared the wrath +of the master. But the catch was so heartily relished that instead of +the expected punishment, they were commended and allowed to fish on the +next day of fasting. + +As was characteristic of many others, the planter's home was near the +center of a vast estate and in this instance had a tall lookout on the +roof from which the watchman might see for miles around. The "quarters" +were nearby and the care-free children who played in the large yard were +closely watched as they were often stolen by speculators and later sold +at auctions far away. The land was divided into many fields each of +which was used to cultivate a particular product. Each field had its +special crew and overseer. + +Cody's father was [HW: one of the] feeders [HW: who] arose at least two +hours before sunrise, to feed the stock. A large number of horses and +more than two hundred head of cattle had to be fed by sunrise when they +were to be turned into the pastures or driven to the field to begin the +day's work. After sunrise, his father's duty [HW: as] foreman for +plowers began. Other workers were hoe hands, additional foremen, cooks, +weavers, spinners, seamstresses, tailors, shoemakers, etc. As everything +used was grown and made on the estate there was plenty of work for all +and in many instances [HW: slaves] learned trades which they liked and +which furnished a livelihood when they were set free. + +[HW: When he entered his teens] Cody's first duties began [HW: as] a +plowhand who broke "newground." As all of this land was to be plowed, a +lack of skill in making straight furrows did not matter, so beginners +were preferably used. Shortly after he began plowing he was made +foreman of one of the groups. Thus encouraged by his master's faith in +his ability to do a man's work, he assumed a "grown up" attitude under +the stimulus of his new responsibilities and was married shortly after. + +At this time marriages resulted from brief courtships. After the consent +of the girl was obtained, it was necessary to seek permission from the +master, whether she lived on the same or an adjoining plantation. In the +latter case, the marriage rites were performed by her master. The +minister was not used in most instances--the ceremony [HW: being] read +from a testament by the owner of the bride. Marriages were nearly always +performed out of doors in the late afternoon. The bride's wedding dress +was fashioned of cloth made on the plantation from a pattern of her own +designing. Attendants at marriages were rare. After the ceremony, the +guests danced far into the night by music from the fiddle and banjo. +Refreshments consisting of ginger cakes, barbecue, etc., were served. +Such a couple, belonging to two different masters, did not keep house. +The [HW: husband] was allowed to visit his wife on Wednesday night and +Saturday when he might remain through Sunday. All marriage unions were +permanent and a barren wife was considered the only real cause for +separation. + +Church services for this group were held jointly with the white members, +the two audiences being separated by a partition. Gradually, the colored +members became dissatisfied with this type of service and withdrew to +form a separate church. The desire for independence in worship must +necessarily have been strong, to endure the inconveniences of the "brush +arbor" churches that they resorted to. As a beginning, several trees +were felled, and the brush and forked branches separated. Four heavy +branches with forks formed the framework. Straight poles were laid +across these to form a crude imitation of beams and the other framework +of a building. The top and sides were formed of brush which was thickly +placed so that it formed a solid wall. A hole left in one side formed a +doorway from which beaten paths extended in all directions. Seats made +from slabs obtained at local sawmills completed the furnishing. In +inclement weather, it was not possible to conduct services here, but +occasionally showers came in the midst of the service and the audience +calmly hoisted umbrellas or papers and with such scant protection, the +worship continued. + +Sunday afternoons were quietly spent, visiting being the only means of +recreation. One of the favorite stay at home pastimes was the inspection +of heads. The pediculous condition made frequent treatment necessary for +comfort. The young white men liked to visit the "quarters" and have the +slaves search their heads. They would stretch full length upon the cabin +floors and rest their heads upon a pillow. Usually they offered a gift +of some sort if many of the tiny parasites were destroyed, so the clever +picker who found a barren head simply reached into his own and produced +a goodly number. There existed on this plantation an antagonistic +feeling toward children (born of slave parents) with a beautiful suit of +hair, and this type of hair was kept cropped very short. + +Gossip, stealing, etc. was not tolerated. No one was ever encouraged to +"tattle" on another. Locks were never used on any of the cabin doors or +on the smokehouse. Food was there in abundance and each person was free +to replenish his supply as necessary. Money was more or less a novelty +as it was only given in 1c pieces at Christmas time. As food, clothing, +and shelter were furnished, the absence was not particularly painful. +Connected with nearly every home were those persons who lived "in the +woods" in preference to doing the labor necessary to remain at their +home. Each usually had a scythe and a bulldog for protection. As food +became scarce, they sneaked to the quarters in the still of the night +and coaxed some friend to get food for them from the smokehouse. Their +supply obtained, they would leave again. This was not considered +stealing. + +Medical care was also free. Excellent physicians were maintained. It was +not considered necessary to call a physician until home +remedies--usually teas made of roots--had had no effect. Women in +childbirth were cared for by grannies,--Old women whose knowledge was +broad by experience, acted as practical nurses. + +Several cooks were regularly maintained. Some cooked for the men who had +no families, others for the members of the big house and guests. The +menus varied little from day to day. A diet of bread--called "shortening +bread,"--vegetables and smoked meat were usually consumed. Buttermilk +was always plentiful. On Sundays "seconds" (flour) were added to the +list and butter accompanied this. Chickens, fresh meat, etc., were +holiday items and were seldom enjoyed at any other time. + +Not only were the slaves required to work but the young men of the "big +house" also had their duties. In the summer they went fishing. While +this sport was enjoyed, it was done on an extremely large scale in order +that everyone should have an adequate supply of fish. The streams +abounded in all kinds of fish, and nets were used to obtain large +quantities necessary. In winter hunting was engaged in for this same +purpose. Rabbits, squirrels, etc., were the usual game, but in addition +the trapping of wild hogs was frequently indulged in. The woods +contained many of these animals which were exceptionally vicious. The +hunters, however, trapped them in much the same way that rabbits are now +caught, without injury to the flesh [TR: 'making the meat more +delicious' marked out]. Deer were also plentiful and venison enjoyed +during its season. Horned snakes were the greatest impediments to more +abundant hunting. + +Knowledge of the war was kept from the slaves until long after its +beginning. Most of them had no idea what "war" meant and any news that +might have been spread, fell on deaf ears. Gradually this knowledge was +imparted by Yankee peddlers who came to the plantation to sell +bed-ticking, etc. When the master discovered how this information was +being given out, these peddlers were forbidden to go near the quarters. +This rule was strictly enforced. + +Eventually, the Confederate soldiers on their way to and from camp began +to stop at the house. Food and everything available was given to them. +Three of Mr. Cody's sons were killed in battle. As the Northern soldiers +did not come near the home, the loss of property was practically +negligible [TR: '--six cents being all' marked out]. + +When the Emancipation Proclamation was signed, the slaves were called to +the "big house" in a group to receive the news that they were free. Both +old and young danced and cheered when this information was given out. +Many of the families remained there for a year or two until they were +able to find desirable locations elsewhere. + +Cody attributes his ability to reach a ripe old age to the excellent +care he took of himself in his youth. He has used tobacco since he was a +small boy and does not feel that it affects his health. Distilled liquor +was plentiful in his young days and he always drank but never to an +excess. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +WILLIS COFER, Age 78 +548 Findley Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Grace McCune +Federal Writers' Project +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens, Ga. + +and +Leila Harris +John N. Booth +Augusta, Georgia +[MAY 6 1938] + + +Willis was enjoying the warm sunshine of an April morning as he sat on +his small porch. Apparently, he was pleased because someone actually +wanted to hear him talk about himself. His rheumatism had been painful +ever since that last bad cold had weakened him, but he felt sure the +sunshine would "draw out all the kinks." Having observed the amenities +in regard to health and weather, the old man proceeded with his story: + +"Eden and Calline Cofer was my pa and ma and us all lived on de big old +Cofer plantation 'bout five miles from Washin'ton, Wilkes. Pa b'longed +to Marse Henry Cofer and ma and us chillun wuz de property of Marse +Henry's father, Marse Joe Cofer. + +"I wuz borned in 1860, and at one time I had three brudders, but Cato +and John died. My oldest brudder, Ben Cofer, is still livin' and +a-preachin' de Gospel somewhar up Nawth. + +"Chilluns did have de bestes' good times on our plantation, 'cause Old +Marster didn't 'low 'em to do no wuk 'til dey wuz 12 years old. Us jus' +frolicked and played 'round de yard wid de white chilluns, but us sho' +did evermore have to stay in dat yard. It wuz de cook's place to boss us +when de other Niggers wuz off in de fields, and evvy time us tried to +slip off, she cotch us and de way dat 'oman could burn us up wid a +switch wuz a caution. + +"Dere warn't no schools for us to go to, so us jes' played 'round. Our +cook wuz all time feedin' us. Us had bread and milk for breakfas', and +dinner wuz mos'ly peas and cornbread, den supper wuz milk and bread. +Dere wuz so many chilluns dey fed us in a trough. Dey jes' poured de +peas on de chunks of cornbread what dey had crumbled in de trough, and +us had to mussel 'em out. Yessum, I said mussel. De only spoons us had +wuz mussel shells what us got out of de branches. A little Nigger could +put peas and cornbread away mighty fast wid a mussel shell. + +"Boys jes' wore shirts what looked lak dresses 'til dey wuz 12 years old +and big enough to wuk in de field. Den dey put 'em on pants made open in +de back. Dem britches would look awful funny now, but dey wuz all us had +den, and all de boys wuz mighty proud when dey got big enough to wear +pants and go to wuk in de fields wid grown folkses. When a boy got to be +a man enough to wear pants, he drawed rations and quit eatin' out of de +trough. + +"All de slave quarters wuz log cabins and little famblies had cabins wid +jes' one room. Old Marster sho' did want to see lots of chilluns 'round +de cabins and all de big famblies wuz 'lowed to live in two-room cabins. +Beds for slaves wuz made by nailing frames, built out of oak or walnut +planks to de sides of de cabins. Dey had two or three laigs to make 'em +set right, and de mattresses wuz filled wid wheat straw. Dere warn't no +sto'-bought stoves den, and all our cookin' wuz done in de fireplace. +Pots wuz hung on iron cranes to bile and big pones of light bread wuz +cooked in ovens on de hearth. Dat light bread and de biscuits made out +of shorts wuz our Sunday bread and dey sho' wuz good, wid our home-made +butter. Us had good old corn bread for our evvyday bread, and dere ain't +nothin' lak corn bread and buttermilk to make healthy Niggers. Dere +wouldn't be so many old sick Niggers now if dey et corn bread evvyday +and let all dis wheat bread and sto'-bought, ready-made bread alone +'cept on Sunday. + +"Dere wuz four or five acres in Marster's big old gyarden, but den it +tuk a big place to raise enough for all de slaves and white folkses too +in de same gyarden. Dere wuz jus' de one gyarden wid plenty of cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, beans, corn, peas, onions, 'taters, and jus' +evvything folkses laked in de way of gyarden sass. Marster never 'lowed +but one smokehouse on his place. It wuz plumb full of meat, and evvy +slave had his meat rations weighed out reg'lar. Dere wuz jes' one dairy +house too whar de slaves got all de milk and butter dey needed. Marster +sho' did b'lieve in seeing dat his Niggers had a plenty to eat. + +"Marster raised lots of chickens and de slaves raised chickens too if +dey wanted to. Marster let 'em have land to wuk for deyselves, but dey +had to wuk it atter dey come out of his fields. All dey made on dis land +wuz deir own to sell and do what dey wanted to wid. Lots of 'em plowed +and hoed by moonlight to make deir own crops. + +"Us used to hear tell of big sales of slaves, when sometimes mammies +would be sold away off from deir chilluns. It wuz awful, and dey would +jes' cry and pray and beg to be 'lowed to stay together. Old Marster +wouldn't do nothin' lak dat to us. He said it warn't right for de +chilluns to be tuk away from deir mammies. At dem sales dey would put a +Nigger on de scales and weigh him, and den de biddin' would start. If +he wuz young and strong, de biddin' would start 'round $150 and de +highest bidder got de Nigger. A good young breedin' 'oman brung $2,000 +easy, 'cause all de Marsters wanted to see plenty of strong healthy +chillun comin' on all de time. Cyarpenters and bricklayers and +blacksmiths brung fancy prices from $3,000 to $5,000 sometimes. A Nigger +what warn't no more'n jes' a good field hand brung 'bout $200. + +"Dem bricklayers made all de bricks out of de red clay what dey had +right dar on most all de plantations, and de blacksmith he had to make +all de iron bars and cranes for de chimblies and fireplaces. He had to +make de plow points too and keep de farm tools all fixed up. Sometimes +at night dey slipped off de place to go out and wuk for money, a-fixin' +chimblies and buildin' things, but dey better not let demselves git +cotched. + +"Mammy wove de cloth for our clothes and de white folkses had 'em made +up. Quilts and all de bed-clothes wuz made out of homespun cloth. + +"De fus' Sadday atter Easter wuz allus a holiday for de slaves. Us wuz +proud of dat day 'cause dat wuz de onlies' day in de year a Nigger could +do 'zactly what he pleased. Dey could go huntin', fishin' or visitin', +but most of 'em used it to put in a good days wuk on de land what +Marster 'lowed 'em to use for deyselves. Some of 'em come to Athens and +help lay bricks on a new buildin' goin' up on Jackson Street. No Ma'am, +I done forgot what buildin' it wuz. + +"Us Niggers went to de white folkses churches. Mr. Louis Williams +preached at de Baptist Church on de fust Sundays, and Meferdiss +(Methodist) meetin's wuz on de second Sundays. Mr. Andy Bowden and Mr. +Scott Cowan wuz two of de Meferdiss preachers. Me and pa jined de +Baptis' Church. Ma wuz jes' a Meferdiss, but us all went to church +together. Dey had de baptizin's at de pool and dere wuz sho' a lot of +prayin' and shoutin' and singin' goin' on while de preacher done de +dippin' of 'em. De onliest one of dem baptizin' songs I can ricollect +now is, _Whar de Healin' Water Flows_. Dey waited 'til dey had a crowd +ready to be baptized and den dey tuk a whole Sunday for it and had a big +dinner on de ground at de church. + +"De sho' 'nough big days wuz dem camp meetin' days. White folkses and +Niggers all went to de same camp meetin's, and dey brung plenty 'long to +eat--big old loafs of light bread what had been baked in de skillets. De +night before dey sot it in de ovens to rise and by mawnin' it had done +riz most to de top of de deep old pans. Dey piled red coals all 'round +de ovens and when dat bread got done it wuz good 'nough for anybody. De +tables wuz loaded wid barbecued pigs and lambs and all de fried chicken +folkses could eat, and all sorts of pies and cakes wuz spread out wid de +other goodies. + +"Evvy plantation gen'ally had a barbecue and big dinner for Fourth of +July, and when sev'ral white famblies went in together, dey did have +high old times tryin' to see which one of 'em could git deir barbecue +done and ready to eat fust. Dey jus' et and drunk all day. No Ma'am, us +didn't know nuffin' 'bout what dey wuz celebratin' on Fourth of July, +'cept a big dinner and a good time. + +"When slaves got married, de man had to ax de gal's ma and pa for her +and den he had to ax de white folkses to 'low 'em to git married. De +white preacher married 'em. Dey hold right hands and de preacher ax de +man: 'Do you take dis gal to do de bes' you kin for her?' and if he say +yes, den dey had to change hands and jump over de broomstick and dey wuz +married. Our white folkses wuz all church folkses and didn't 'low no +dancin' at weddin's but dey give 'em big suppers when deir slaves got +married. If you married some gal on another place, you jus' got to see +her on Wednesday and Sadday nights and all de chilluns b'longed to de +gal's white folkses. You had to have a pass to go den, or de +patterollers wuz sho' to git you. Dem patterollers evermore did beat up +slaves if dey cotched 'em off dey own Marster's place 'thout no pass. If +Niggers could out run 'em and git on deir home lines dey wuz safe. + +"On our place when a slave died dey washed de corpse good wid plenty of +hot water and soap and wropt it in a windin' sheet, den laid it out on +de coolin' board and spread a snow white sheet over de whole business, +'til de coffin wuz made up. De windin' sheet wuz sorter lak a bed sheet +made extra long. De coolin' board wuz made lak a ironin' board 'cept it +had laigs. White folkses wuz laid out dat way same as Niggers. De +coffins wuz made in a day. Dey tuk de measurin' stick and measured de +head, de body, and de footses and made de coffin to fit dese +measurements. If it wuz a man what died, dey put a suit of clothes on +him before dey put him in de coffin. Dey buried de 'omans in da windin' +sheets. When de Niggers got from de fields some of 'em went and dug a +grave. Den dey put de coffin on de oxcart and carried it to de +graveyard whar dey jus' had a burial dat day. Dey waited 'bout two +months sometimes before dey preached de fun'ral sermon. For the fun'ral +dey built a brush arbor in front of de white folkses church, and de +white preacher preached de fun'ral sermon, and white folkses would come +lissen to slave fun'rals. De song most sung at fun'rals wuz _Hark from +de Tomb_. De reason dey had slave fun'rals so long atter de burial wuz +to have 'em on Sunday or some other time when de crops had been laid by +so de other slaves could be on hand. + +"When white folkses died deir fun'rals wuz preached before dey wuz +buried. Dat wuz de onliest diff'unce in de way dey buried de whites and +de Niggers. Warn't nobody embalmed dem days and de white folkses wuz +buried in a graveyard on de farm same as de Niggers wuz, and de same +oxcart took 'em all to de graveyard. + +"Our Marster done de overseein' at his place hisself, and he never had +no hired overseer. Nobody never got a lickin' on our plantation lessen +dey needed it bad, but when Marster did whup 'em dey knowed dey had been +whupped. Dere warn't no fussin' and fightin' on our place and us all +knowed better'n to take what didn't b'long to us, 'cause Old Marster +sho' did git atter Niggers what stole. If one Nigger did kill another +Nigger, dey tuk him and locked him in da jailhouse for 30 days to make +his peace wid God. Evvy day de preacher would come read de Bible to him, +and when de 30 days wuz up, den dey would hang him by de neck 'til he +died. De man what done de hangin' read de Bible to de folkses what wuz +gathered 'round dar while de murderer wuz a-dyin'. + +"Its de devil makes folkses do bad, and dey all better change and serve +God-a-Mighty, so as he kin save 'em before its too late. I b'lieve +folkses 'haved better dem days dan dey does now. Marstar made 'em be +good 'round his place. + +"When us turned Marster's watch dogs loose at night, dey warn't nothin' +could come 'round dat place. Dey had to be kept chained up in de +daytime. Sometimes Marster let us take his dogs and go huntin' and dey +wuz de best 'possum trailers 'round dem parts. When dey barked up a +'simmon tree, us allus found a 'possum or two in dat tree. Sometimes +atter us cotched up lots of 'em, Marster let us have a 'possum supper. +Baked wid plenty of butter and 'tatoes and sprinkled over wid red +pepper, dey is mighty good eatments. My mouf's jus' a-waterin' 'cause +I'm thinkin' 'bout 'possums. + +"Yes Ma'am, us had corn shuckin's, and dey wuz big old times. Evvybody +from plantations miles 'round would take time out to come. Sometimes de +big piles of corn would make a line most a half a mile long, but when +all de Niggers got at dat corn de shucks sho' would fly and it wouldn't +be so long before all de wuk wuz done and dey would call us to supper. +Dere wuz barbecue and chickens, jus' a plenty for all de Niggers, and +corn bread made lak reg'lar light bread and sho' enough light bread too, +and lots of 'tato pies and all sorts of good things. + +"Atter da War wuz over, dey jus' turned de slaves loose widout nothin'. +Some stayed on wid Old Marster and wukked for a little money and dey +rations. + +"Pa went down on the Hubbard place and wukked for 40 dollars a year and +his rations. Ma made cloth for all de folkses 'round 'bout. Dey fotched +deir thread and she wove de cloth for 50 cents a day. If us made a good +crop, us wuz all right wid plenty of corn, peas, 'tatoes, cabbage, +collards, turnip greens, all de hog meat us needed, and chickens too. Us +started out widout nothin' and had to go in debt to de white folkses at +fust but dat wuz soon paid off. I never had no chance to go to school +and git book larnin'. All de time, us had to wuk in de fields. + +"Ku Kluxers went 'round wid dem doughfaces on heaps atter de War. De +Niggers got more beatin's from 'em dan dey had ever got from deir Old +Marsters. If a Nigger sassed white folkses or kilt a hoss, dem Kluxers +sho' did evermore beat him up. Dey never touched me for I stayed out of +deir way, but dey whupped my pa one time for bein' off his place atter +dark. When dey turned him loose, he couldn't hardly stand up. De Yankees +jus' about broke up de Ku Kluxers, but day sho' wuz bad on Niggers while +dey lasted. + +"I wuz 'bout 21 years old when us married. Us never had no chillun and +my wife done been daid for all dese long years, I don't know how many. I +can't wuk and I jus' has to stay hyar wid my daid brother's chillun. Dey +is mighty good to me, but I gits awful lonesome sometimes. + +"No Ma'am, I ain't never seed but one ghost. Late one night, I wuz +comin' by de graveyard and seed somethin' dat looked lak a dog 'ceppin' +it warn't no dog. It wuz white and went in a grave. It skeered me so I +made tracks gittin' 'way from dar in a hurry and I ain't never bean +'round no more graveyards at night. + +"When I passes by de old graveyard on Jackson Street, I 'members lots +of folkses whats buried dar, bofe white folkses and slaves too, for den +white folkses put dey slaves whar dey aimed to be buried deyselves. Dat +sho' used to be a fine graveyard. + +"Us all gwine to git together someday when us all leaves dis old world. +I'm ready to go; jus' a-waitin' for de Lord to call me home, and I ain't +skeered to face de Lord who will judge us all de same, 'cause I done +tried to do right, and I ain't 'fraid to die." + +Uncle Willis was tired and sent a little boy to the store for milk. As +the interviewer took her departure he said: "Good-bye Missy. God bless +you. Jus' put yourself in de hands of de Lord, for dey ain't no better +place to be." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +MARY COLBERT, Age 84 +168 Pearl Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (White)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + + +(NOTE: This is the first story we have had in which the client did not +use any dialect. Mary Colbert's grammar was excellent. Her skin was +almost white, and her hair was quite straight. + +None of us know what a "deep" slave was. It may have the same meaning as +outlandish Negro. The "outlandish Negroes" were those newly arrived +Negroes who had just come in from any country outside of the United +States of America, and were untrained. They were usually just from +Africa. + +Sarah H. Hall) + +With the thermometer registering 93 degrees in the shade on a +particularly humid July day, the visitor trudged up one steep, rocky +alley and down another, hesitantly negotiated shaky little bridges over +several ravines, scrambled out of a ditch, and finally arrived at the +address of Mary Colbert. It was the noon hour. A Negro man had tied his +mule under an apple tree in one corner of Mary's yard. The animal was +peacefully munching hay while his master enjoyed lunch from a battered +tin bucket. Asked if Mary was at home, the man replied: "Yessum, jus' +call her at de door." + +A luxuriant Virginia creeper shaded the front porch of Mary's five-room +frame house, where a rap on the front door brought the response: "Here I +am, honey! Come right on through the house to the back porch." The aged +mulatto woman was hanging out clothes on a line suspended between two +peach trees. To the inquiry for Mary, she answered: "Yes, Honey, this is +Mary. They say I am old, childish, and hellish; anyway, this is Mary." + +"Dear, let's go in my parlor," she suggested in a cultured voice. "I +wouldn't dare go out on the front porch wearing this dirty dress. It +simply isn't my way of living." Mary is about five feet tall and wears +her straight, snowy-white hair in a neat knot low on the back of her +head. The sparkle in her bright brown eyes bespeaks a more youthful +spirit than her wrinkled and almost white face would indicate. She was +wearing a soiled print dress, brown cotton hose, and high-topped black +shoes. In remarkably good English for one of her race she told that her +daughter's family lives with her, "so that I won't be right by myself." +Then she began her story: + +"Honey, what is it you want me to tell you. Where was I born? Oh, my +child! I was born right here in dear old hilly Athens. Yes, that's where +I was born. Polly Crawford was my mother, and she belonged to Major +William H. Crawford before he gave her to his son, Marse John Crawford. +Now about my father, that is the dream. He died when I was just a little +child. They said he was Sandy Thomas and that he was owned by Marster +Obadiah Thomas, who lived in Oglethorpe County. All I can remember about +my grandparents is this: When I found my grandma, Hannah Crawford, she +was living on Major Crawford's plantation, where Crawford, Georgia, is +now. Grandma was a little, bitty woman; so little that she wore a number +one shoe. She was brought here from Virginia to be a field hand, but she +was smart as a whip, and lived to be 118 years old. I used to tell my +mother that I wished I was named Hannah for her, and so Mother called me +Mary Hannah. + +"I can't bring my grandfather to mind very clearly. I do remember that +my mother took me to Penfield to see him, and told me if I wasn't a good +little girl he would surely whip me. They called him 'Uncle Campfire', +because he had such a fiery temper. For a living, after he got to be an +old man, he made cheers (chairs), but for the life of me I don't know +who he belonged to, because Major Crawford sold him before I was born. + +"There were five of us children: Nat, Solomon, Susannah, Sarah, and +myself. Marse John gave Solomon to his daughter, Miss Fannie, when she +married Marse William H. Gerdine. Susannah belonged to Miss Rosa Golden, +and Sarah and I belonged to the other Miss Fannie. She was Marse John's +sister. Nat was Marse John's house boy, and our mother was his cook. We +children just played around the yard until we were large enough to work. + +"Yes, my dear, I was born in Marse John's back yard. He lived in a +two-story frame house on Dougherty Street, back of Scudder's School. The +two slave houses and the kitchen were set off from the house a little +piece out in the yard. It was the style then to have the kitchen built +separate from the dwelling house. + +"Lord bless your life, Honey! We didn't live in log cabins, as you call +them. There were two slave houses. The one Aggie lived in was two-story, +the other one had just one story and they were both weatherboarded like +Marse John's own house. The grown folks slept on beds made with tall oak +posts. There were no metal springs then and the beds were corded +instead. The straw-stuffed mattress ticks were made with plain and +striped material, and pillows were filled with cotton. We children slept +on trundle beds, which were pushed up under the big beds in the daytime, +and pulled out for us to sleep on at night. + +"No Ma'm, there was never any money given to me in slavery time. +Remember, Dear, when the yankees came through here, I was only ten years +old. Misses Fannie and Ann Crawford were Major Crawford's daughters, and +they kept house for Marse John. That morning in May I was wearing a +sleeveless apron, and they (Miss Fannie and Miss Ann) put a bag of gold +and silver, and some old greenback Confederate money in my apron and +told me to hold on to it. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann, both of them, patted +me on the head and said: 'Now, be a good little girl and don't move.' On +came the Blue Coats: they went all over the house searching everything +with their guns and swords shining and flashing. I was so scared the +sweat was running down my face in streams. Bless your life! When they +came to the bedroom where I was standing by a bed, holding that money +inside my apron, they didn't even glance at me the second time. Little +did they think that little slave girl had the money they were hunting +for. After the yankees were gone, I gave it all back to Miss Fannie, and +she didn't give me the first penny. If any of the money was given to my +mother she didn't tell me about it. + +"I am going to tell you the truth about what we had to eat, so listen +now. It was egg bread, biscuits, peas, potatoes--they they were called +'taters then--artichoke pickles, tea cakes, pies, and good old healthy +lye hominy. There was plenty of meat served, but I was not allowed to +eat that, as I was never a very strong child. I was a fool about stale +bread, such as biscuit, cornbread, and light bread. Mother was a fine +cook and her battercakes would just melt in your mouth. Of course, you +know we had no stoves in those days and the cooking was done in open +fireplaces, in ovens and pots. Oh yes! We had a garden. There was only +one on the place and enough was raised in it to feed all of the people +living there. + +"I don't remember eating 'possums, rabbits, squirrels and fish until I +went to Jackson, Mississippi, with Miss Rosa. There were plenty of those +meats in Mississippi and I was then getting old enough and healthy +enough to be allowed to eat them." + +At this point, Mary insisted on serving lunch for her visitor, saying +that she had lived with white people and knew how to cook. After a +polite refusal, the story was continued: + +"I was laughing at myself just the other day about those homespun +dresses and sleeveless aprons I wore as a child. I reckon that was a +sign you were coming to ask me about those things. I kept one of those +dresses of mine until my own baby girl wore it out, and now I am sorry I +let her wear it, for it would be so nice to have it to show you. We wore +just a one piece costume in summer and had calico and muslin dresses for +Sunday. Wintertime, I wore a balmoral petticoat, osnaburg drawers, and +er-r-r. Well, Jacob! I never thought I would live to see the day I'd +forget what our dresses were called. Anyway they were of woolen material +in a checked design, and were made with a full skirt gathered on to a +deep yoke. Uncle Patrick Hull--he was a deep slave belonging to Mr. A.L. +Hull--made all the shoes for Marse John's slaves. We all wore brass-toed +brogans. + +"Oh, good! I should smile! A better man than Marse John never lived. +Nobody better not beat his slaves. Marse John was the postmaster. He +married Miss Sallie Eden, and everybody said she was mighty good, but I +never knew her for she died when I was a baby. Marse John and his wife, +Miss Sallie, had three children. They were: Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa and +Marse Allie. Miss Annie Crawford, who teaches in the school here, is +Marse Allie's daughter. She don't know me so well, but I know mighty +well who she is. I think I have already told you that Misses Fannie and +Rosa kept house for their brother, Marse John, after their mother died. + +"Darling, please get this right: the plantation is a dream to me. If I +should try to tell you about it, I am sure it would be only what my +mother told me about it in the years long after the surrender. Whether +the plantation was the property of Marse John or his father, William H. +Crawford, I don't know, but I am sure there was an overseer, and I am +quite sure it was a very large plantation. You know the town of Crawford +was named for my white folks. The only thing I can be sure of, from my +own memory, is of the things that took place here in Athens. + +"Breakfast had to be served promptly at 7:30. When that 9:00 o'clock +bell sounded at night, God bless your soul! You had to be in your +house, and you had to be in bed by 10:00 o'clock. Marse John never +punished but just two of his slaves that I can remember, but I have seen +them get several good whippings. They were Ned and William, Aggie's and +Lucy's boys, and Marse John cowhided them for misbehaving. + +"There were jails during slavery time, but Marse John kept his slaves +straight himself and did not allow any of them to be taken to jail. I +have never seen slaves sold, but I have seen droves of them marching by, +being taken to Watkinsville to be sold. + +"No! No! Oh! No! You had better not dare let white people know that you +could read, in those days. I remember one colored man, Alfred Evans, who +used to read the Bible during slavery time. All the learning I have, I +got after we were made free. There were two colored churches in Athens; +one was Baptist and the other was Methodist. Yankee ladies came down +from the North and taught us to read and write. I have often considered +writing the history of my life and finally decided to undertake it, but +I found that it was more of a job than I had expected it to be, and then +too, I would have to tell too much, so I thought best to leave it alone. + +"I went to church but very little during slavery time. However, I dearly +loved to go to Sunday school, and never missed an opportunity of +attending. One of our Sunday school songs was worded something like +this: + + 'I want to be an angel, + And with the angels stand.' + +"My favorite song began: + + 'Around the Throne in Heaven, + Ten Thousand children stand.' + +"OO! Yes, I know how they buried folks in slavery time. For caskets they +used straight, white pine boxes that they called coffins. They didn't +have funerals like they do now. A preacher would say a few words at the +grave and then he prayed, and after that everybody sang something like: +'I will arise and go to Jesus.' I was a singer in my younger days. + +"All I remember 'bout Negroes going off to the North was when their +masters took them along on trips to wait on them. Bless your life! That +was one time when the ones that could read and write had the advantage. +They were usually chosen to go along so if anything happened to the +Marster on the trip, they could write back home. I never saw patrollers, +but I heard that they used to beat up Negroes who were caught away from +home without a pass. Marse John kept his slaves supplied with passes at +all necessary times. + +"Not all the slaves had to work on Saturday afternoons. This was their +time of the week to get together and have a little fun around their +quarters. Sunday mornings they went to church, as a rule, and on Sunday +nights they visited each other and held prayer meetings in their homes. +Don't get me wrong. They had to have passes to go visiting and attend +those prayer meetings. + +"Christmas time was a holiday season for slaves, and they had everything +good you could want to eat. Listen, Child, I am telling you the truth. +They even had pumpkin pie. Oh, yes! Santa Claus came to see slave +children. Once I got too smart for my own good. Miss Fannie and Miss Ann +had told us to go to bed early. They said if we weren't asleep when +Santa Claus got there, he would go away and never come back. Well, that +night I made up my mind to stay awake and see Santa Claus. Miss Fannie +and Miss Ann slipped into our quarters right easy and quiet and were +filling up stockings with candy, dolls, and everything you can imagine. +While they were doing that, they turned around and saw me with my eyes +wide open. Right there my Santa Claus ended. We didn't have any special +observance of New Year's Day. It was the same as any other day. + +"Mother said they had cornshuckings, quiltings, and cotton pickings on +the plantation. She told me a good deal about the cornshuckings: about +how they selected a general, whose job was to get up on top of the corn +pile and holler at the top of his voice, leading the cornshucking song, +while the others all shucked the corn and sang. After the corn was all +shucked there were always fine eats. I can remember the quiltings +myself. The women went from one house to another and quilted as many as +12 quilts in one night sometimes. After the quilts were all finished +they had a big spread of good food too. Now it takes a whole month to +quilt one quilt and nothing to eat. + +"What games did we play? Let me see. Oh! yes, one of them was played to +the rhyme: + + 'Chickimy, chickimy, Craney Crow + I went to the well to wash my toe, + When I got back my chicken was gone + What time, Old Witch?' + +"Then we would run and chase each other. Another game was played to the +counting-out by the rhyme that started: + + 'Mollie, Mollie Bright, three-score and ten.' + +"Honey, there is no use to ask me about Raw Head and Bloody Bones. When +folks started talking about that, I always left the room. It is a shame +how folks do frighten children trying to make them get quiet and go to +sleep. I don't believe in ha'nts and ghosts. Since I have been grown, I +have been around so many dead folks I have learned that the dead can't +harm you; its the living that make the trouble. + +"When his slaves were taken sick, Marse John always called in a doctor. +An old woman, who was known as 'Aunt Fannie,' was set aside to nurse +sick slaves. Dr. Joe Carlton was Marse John's doctor. What I am going to +tell you is no fairy tale. Once I was so sick that Marse John called in +Dr. Carlton, Dr. Richard M. Smith, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. James +Long, before they found out what was wrong with me. I had inflammatory +rheumatism and I wore out two and a half pairs of crutches before I +could walk good again. Now, Dr. Crawford Long is a great and famous man +in history, but it is sure true that he doctored on this old Negro many +years ago. + +"Honey, don't flatter me. Don't you know a little girl 10 years old +can't remember everything that went on that far back. A few things they +dosed the slaves with when they were sick was horehound tea, garlic +mixed with whiskey, and the worm-few (vermifuge?) tea that they gave to +Negro children for worms. That worm-few dose was given in April. +Asafetida was used on us at all times and sage tea was considered a +splendid medicine. + +"When news came that Negroes had been freed there was a happy jubilee +time. Marse John explained the new freedom to his slaves and we were +glad and sorry too. My mother stayed with Marse John until he died. I +was still a child and had never had to do anything more than play dolls, +and keep the children in the yard. Lord, Honey! I had a fine time those +days. + +"It wasn't so long after the surrender before schools for Negroes were +opened. It looked like they went wild trying to do just like their white +folks had done. As for buying homes, I don't know where they would have +gotten the money to pay for homes and land. + +"At the time I married I was a washerwoman for the white folks. My first +husband was Isaac Dixon, who came from some place in Alabama and had +been owned by Dr. Lipscomb, the chancelor of the university. Dr. +Lipscomb married us in the colored Methodist Church, and that night the +church was crowded to overflowing. I wore a white dress made with a long +train; that was the style then. After the ceremony, my mother served +cake and wine at her house. Our six children were prettier than you, but +only three of them lived to get grown. Our white friends named our +children. My first husband died and then I married Jones Colbert, who +belonged to Marse Fletcher Colbert of Madison County. We just went +around to the preacher's house and got married. Jones was an old man +when I married him. He was a preacher. He is dead now and so are all my +children except one. I have one grandson, and this is the shameful part +about him; his mother won't married when he was born, but of course she +married later. + +"Now I am going to tell you the truth as I see it. Abraham Lincoln was +an instrument of God sent to set us free, for it was God's will that we +should be freed. I never did hitch my mind on Jeff Davis; like the +children of Israel, he had his time to rule. Booker T. Washington! Well, +now I didn't give him a thought. He had to do his part. His mistress had +taught him to read. + +"Why did I join the church? Well, when the white folks sent their help +off to Mississippi trying to keep them slaves, my sister and I went with +Miss Rosa Crawford to Jackson. Before I left home my mother gave me an +alabaster doll and told me to be a good girl and pray every night. Well, +I never saw so many slave-houses in my life as I saw in Mississippi. +Every night when I heard a colored man named Ben praying in his room +that made me think of what my mother had told me and I grew more and +more homesick for her. Finally one night I crept into Uncle Ben's room +and asked him to tell me about God, and he did. After that, every night +I went into his room and we prayed together. Yes, Honey, I found God in +Jackson, Mississippi, and I joined the church just as soon as I could +after I got back to my mother and dear old Athens. + +"Yes, Honey, I was raised and loved by my own white folks and, when I +grew to be old enough and large enough, I worked for them. I have been +with, or worked for, white folks all my life and, just let me tell you, +I had the best white folks in the world, but it was by God's plan that +the Negroes were set free." + + + + +[HW: Dist. 1 +Ex. Slave #21 +(with Photograph)] + +[HW: "JOHN COLE"] + +Subject: A SLAVE REMEMBERS +District: No. 1 W.P.A +Editor: Edward Ficklen +Supervisor: Joseph E. Jaffee +[MAY 8 1937] + + +A SLAVE REMEMBERS + +The front door of a little vine-clad cottage on Billups Street, in +Athens, Georgia quaked open and John Cole, ex-slave confronted a +"gov'mint man." + +[Illustration] + +Yes, he was the son of Lucius Cole and Betsy Cole, was in his 86th year, +and remembered the time "way back" when other gov'mint men with their +strange ways had descended on Athens. + +And far beyond that, back to the time when they had tried him out as a +scullion boy in the big town house where his mother was the cook, but it +seemed that the trays always escaped his clumsy young hands. + +So "Marse Henry" had put him on the 200 acre Oglethorpe plantation as +apprentice to training of the farm horses whose large unmanageableness +he found more manageable than the dainty china of the banker's house. He +simply had followed more after his father, the carriage driver than his +mother, the cook. + +Of course, all fifteen of the hands worked from sun-up to sun-down, but +his aunt was the plantation cook, and it was not so bad there. + +The night brought no counsel, but it brought better. Stretch cow-hides +over cheese-boxes and you had tambourines. Saw bones from off a cow, +knock them together, and call it [HW: a drum]. Or use broom-straws, on +fiddle-strings, and you had your entire orchestra. + +Grow older, and get by the gates with a pass (you had to have a pass or +the paddle-rollers would get you,) and you had you a woman. If the woman +wasn't willing, a good, hard-working hand could always get the master to +make the girl marry him--whether or no, willy-nilly. + +If a hand were noted for raising up strong black bucks, bucks that would +never "let the monkey get them" while in the high-noon hoeing, he would +be sent out as a species of circuit-rider to the other plantations--to +plantations where there was over-plus of "worthless young nigger gals". +There he would be "married off" again--time and again. This was thrifty +and saved any actual purchase of new stock. + +Always on Saturday afternoon you would have till "first dark" for +base-ball, and from first dark till Sunday-go-to meeting for drinking +and dancing. Sunday you could go to the colored church (with benefit of +white clergy) or you could go to the white church just like real class +except you sat in the rear. + +No, it was not a bad life. + +You usually weren't sick, but if you were sick, it afforded you the +luxury of tea. Turpentine and caster oil composed the entire _materia +medica_. Turpentine was used for sore throats, cuts and bruises. Castor +oil was used for everything else except a major fracture which called +for the master sending in a doctor to the quarters. + +Yes, the gov'mint men with the blue uniforms and the shiny brass buttons +had descended from the North on Athens--descended in spite of the +double-barrelled cannon that the little master and the little master's +men had tried on them. The blue clad invaders had come in despite of the +quick breast-works, and the new-fangled cannon, and Bob Toombs boast +that he "could beat the damn Yankees with corn-stalks before breakfast". +(If only they had fought that way--if only they had [HW: not] needed +grape-shot had enough to invent cannon mouths that spoke at the same +time and were meant to mow down men with a long chain--if only they had +not been able to fight long after Bull Run, and after breakfast!) + +Yes, the Yankees had come over the classic hills of Athens (Athens that +had so many hills that she would have been named Rome except for her +first land-grant college,) had left, and had come again to stay, and to +bring freedom to John Cole and his kind. + +This was six months after Lee and his palandins had laid down the +sword--the gallant, the unstained (but, alas, claimed Meade's batteries) +the unconstitutional sword. Six months had gone and freedom had come. + +But John Cole, slave of Henry Hull, the banker, found that his freedom +was the freedom of "the big oak"--Athens famed tree-that-owns-itself. He +was free, but he had no way to go anywhere. He was rooted in the soil +and would stay fast rooted. He worked on with his master for 20 years, +without pay. + +Did he believe, back in slavery time in "signs" and in "sayings"--that +the itching foot meant the journey to new lands--that the hound's +midnight threnody meant murder? + +No, when he was a young buck and had managed the bad horses, he had had +no such beliefs. No, he was not superstitious. If the foot itched +something ought to be put on it (or taken off it)--and as to the hounds +yelping, nobody ever knew what dark-time foolishness a hound-dog might +be up to. + +But he was old, now. Death always comes in the afternoon. He does +believe in things that have been proved. He does believe that a +squinch-owl's screeching ("V-o-o-o-d-o-o! W-h-o-o-o? Y-ou-u!") is a sure +sign of death. Lowing of a cow in afternoon Georgia meadows means death +mighty close. If death come down to a house, better stop clock and put +white cloth on mirrors. No loud talking permitted. Better for any nigger +to bow low down to death.... + +To what factors did he attribute his long life, queried the gov'mint +man. + +Long living came from leaving off smoking and drinking. + +Would he have a nickle cigar? + +He would. + +Yes, he was feeling quite tol'able, thank you. But he believed now in +the owl and the cow and the clock. + +In the morning-time one lives, but death always come in the afternoon. +Better for any nigger, anywhere, to bow low down to death. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +JULIA COLE, Age 78 +169 Yonah Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Corry Fowler +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +A knock on the door of the comfortable little frame house which Julia +Cole shares with her daughter, Rosa, brought the response, "Who dat?" +Soon Rosa appeared. "Come in Honey and have a cheer," was her greeting +and she added that Julia had "stepped across de street to visit 'round a +little." Soon the neighborhood was echoing and reverberating as the +call, "Tell Aunt Julia somebody wants to see her at her house," was +repeated from cabin to cabin. A few moments later Julia walked in. +Yellowish gingercake in color, and of rather dumpy figure, she presented +a clean, neat appearance. She and her daughter, who cooks for a +dentist's family, take much pride in their attractively furnished home. +Julia was of pleasant manner and seemed anxious to tell all that she +could. It is doubtful if Rosa made much progress with her ironing in an +adjoining room, for every few minutes she came to the door to remind her +mother of some incident that she had heard her tell before. + +Julia began her story by saying: "I was born in Monroe, Georgia and +b'longed to Marster John Grant. My Mamma was Mittie Johnson, and she +died de year 'fore de war ended. I don't 'member my Pa. Mamma had four +chillun. Richard and Thomas Grant was my brothers, but me and my sister +Hattie was Johnsons. Marse John had a big plantation and a heap of +slaves. Dey was rich, his folks was. Dey is de folks dat give Grant's +Park to Atlanta. + +"Dey called my grandpa, 'Uncle Abram.' Atter he had wukked hard in de +field all day, he would jus' lay down on a bench at night and sleep +widout pullin' off his clothes. Us had home-made beds in de cabins +widout no paint on 'em. Evvything slaves had was home-made, jus' +wooden-legged things. Even de coffins was made at home out of pine wood. +Now me, I didn't sleep in de cabin much. I slept on a little trundle bed +up at de big house. In de daytime my bed was pushed back up under one of +de big beds. + +"Marse John's son, Marse Willie Grant, blowed de bugle in de mornin's by +4 o'clock to git de slaves up in time to be in de fields by daybreak. +When slaves got too old to wuk, dey took keer of de chillun in a house +down below de kitchen. Mamma wukked in de field when she was able. +Nobody on our place had to wuk in de fields on Sadday evenin's. Dat was +de time de 'omans washed deir clothes and cleaned up. + +"Chillun didn't have much to do. Us loved to hunt for turkey nests +'cause dey give us a teacake for evvy turkey egg us fetched in. Chillun +et in de yard at de big house, whar dey give us plenty of meat and +cornbread wid good vegetables for dinner. For breakfast and supper, us +had mostly buttermilk and cornbread. On Sundays us had bread made from +wheat flour and sopped good old syrup wid it. Sometimes Marse John would +give us 'mission to kill little pigs at night and broil 'em over de +coals in our yards, and how us did enjoy 'em! I ain't never suffered for +nothin' in all my life, 'cause de Grants was mighty good white folks. De +old White home on Prince Avenue was deir summer home. When dey built +it, woods was all 'round and dere warn't many houses in dat section. + +"Us had plenty of clothes made out of homespun checks, and Marse John +give us brass-toed shoes. Our dresses was well sewed and made wid belts +to 'em. Nobody went 'bout half naked on our plantation lak some of de +old folks f'um other farms talks 'bout. Us had good well-made clothes, +even if dey was made out of common cloth. + +"Nobody on our plantation run away to de North, and de paddyrollers +didn't git nobody at our place neither. Marse John was too good to +evvybody for his slaves to want to cut up and run 'way and do things to +make de paddyrollers hunt 'em down. Dey didn't have no jails 'cause dey +didn't need none on our place. Sometimes Marse John made a colored man +named Uncle Jim Cooper give 'em a good whuppin' when dey needed it. + +"When us was sick, dey give us herbs and things of dat sort. In de +springtime, dey give us jerusalem oak seed in syrup for nine mornin's +and by den us was allus rid of de worms. Dey 'tended to slave chillun so +good and dutiful dat dere warn't many of 'em died, and I don't never +'member no doctor comin' to my Mamma's house. + +"Old Missus used to teach us in da blue back speller, and when I didn't +know my lesson she made me run f'um de house to de gyarden gate for +punishment. De more words I missed; de more times I had to run. Us had +our own church services on de plantation under home-made brush arbors, +and our colored preacher was Uncle Charles Cooper. + +"Once some sojers come by our place lookin' for Marse John. He had done +hid in de loft of de meat house and told evvybody on de place dey +better not tell whar he was. Dey didn't find Marse John, but dey did +find his son, Marse Willie, and dey tuk him 'long wid 'em. Marse Willie +was de only chile dat Marster and Missus had and it nearly killed 'em +for him to be tuk 'way from 'em. When Mr. Lincoln's general got to our +place he was a-ridin' a big red hoss dat sho' was a grand animal. Dem +sojers went in de smokehouses and stores evvywhar and tuk what dey +wanted. + +"Not long 'fore de war ended, my Mamma tuk a 'lapse f'um measles and +died. 'Fore she died, she sont for Marse John and told him what she +wanted done, and he done jus' what she axed. She give him my brothers, +Richard and Thomas, and told him to take dem two boys and to make men +out of 'em by makin' 'em wuk hard. I jus' lak to have died when my Mamma +died. Dey carried her to de graveyard and put her down in de grave and I +jus' couldn't help it; I jumped right down in dat grave wid her, and dey +had to take me out. My brothers said I was plum crazy dat day. + +"Atter de war was over, Marster moved his family to Atlanta on Peachtree +Street. His grandson dat was born dat year died not long ago. Dey didn't +have no farm in Atlanta and so dey didn't need all deir old servants. My +sister Hattie was a baby and Auntie tuk her to Atlanta wid de Grants. + +"I don't know what 'come of de others on Marster's farm. I had to git in +a covered wagon and come wid my Uncle Jordan Johnson to Athens. I didn't +want to leave, and I hid down under our things in de wagon when dey made +me come. When us crossed de river, I was sho' us was 'bout to git +drownded. One time atter dat us tuk a trip to Madison to see de old +breastplates (breastworks) dar. + +"My brother Tom got to be captain of a colored troop dat went to de +Philippine Islands. Over dar de sojers kilt a big snake and et it all +but de head. He had dat thing stuffed and brought it home. Atter he left +de army, he got a job in de Atlanta Post Office whar he wukked 'til he +was 'tired. + +"I was hired out to de Marks family and stayed dar for years and dat was +a mighty good place to be hired out. I was married twice. Me and Crit +Clayton married at home. I ain't never seed nothin' lak dat pretty +flowerdy weddin' dress dat I wore and I had de prettiest hat and things +dat I ever seed. My next husband was Andrew Cole--He was Rosa's Pa. I +forgits de name of de white preacher dat married us when us went to his +house and axed him to. Four of our seven chillun is still livin'. + +"Dey tells me our old big house near Monroe is standin' yit, and I sho' +do wish I could see it once more 'fore I die, but since I broke my hip a +few years ago I jus' don't ride in dem automobiles. No Ma'am, I don't +limp. De Lord was good to heal my hip and I ain't takin' no chances on +breakin' no more of my bones." + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +MARTHA COLQUITT, Age 85 +190 Lyndon Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Federal Writers' Project +Athens, Georgia + +Edited by: +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + + +The aged Negress leaned heavily on her cane as she shuffled about her +tiny porch in the waning sunlight of a cold January day. An airplane +writing an advertising slogan in letters of smoke high in the sky was +receiving but indifferent attention from Aunt Martha. Sha shivered and +occasionally leaned against a post until a paroxysm of coughing +subsided. "What would you have thought of that if it had suddenly +appeared in the sky when you were a child?" she was asked. "It would +have scared me plum to death," was the response. "I didn't come out here +just to see dat," she continued, "I didn't have nothin' to make no fire +wid, and I had to git out in de sunshine 'cause it wuz too cold to stay +in de house. It sho' is mighty bad to have to go to bed wid cold feet +and cough all night long." + +Her visitor could not resist the impulse to say, "Let's make a trade, +Aunt Martha! If I give you a little money will you buy wood; then while +you enjoy the fire will you think back over your life and tell me about +your experiences when I come back tomorrow?" "Bless de Lord! I sho' will +be glad to tell you de truf 'bout anything I can 'member," was her quick +reply as she reached for the money. + + +[TR: Return Visit] + +The next day Aunt Martha was in bed, slowly eating a bowl of potlicker +and turnip greens into which cornbread had been crumbled. + +"My ches' hurt so bad I couldn't git up today," was her greeting, "but +set right dar by my bed and I can talk all right, long as I don't have +to walk 'bout none. Walkin' makes me cough." + +Soon the bowl was empty and when she had wiped her mouth with the sleeve +of her nightgown, Aunt Martha began: + +"When I wuz born, my ma b'longed to Marse Billie Glenn and us lived on +his big plantation way down below Lexin'ton. My pa wuz Anderson +Mitchell. He come from Milledgeville and b'longed to Mr. D. Smith. The +Smithies lived close by Marse Billie's place. My ma wuz Healon Mitchell. +I don't know what her last name wuz 'fore she married. She wuz born in +Virginny, and her and my grandma wuz sold and brought to Georgia when ma +wuz a baby. Grandma never did see none of her other chillun or her +husband no more, and us never did hear nothin' 'bout 'em. + +"Ma had four chillun. Lucy wuz my onlies' sister. Mr. Davenport bought +her and she growed up at his place, what wuz called 'De Glade.' It wuz a +big fine place at Point Peter, Georgia. Lucy married a Taylor. + +"My brother, Isaac, wuz raised at Mr. Hamilton's place at Point Peter. +After he growed up, he worked in Atlanta and bought him a home dar. He +got in a fight wid a man what had done stobbed his mule, and de man hurt +Isaac so bad he went crazy and died in de 'sylum at Milledgeville, but +dey took him back and buried him in Atlanta. + +"My other brother wuz Anderson Mitchell, and after freedom come he got +work in Athens at de compress. His boss man moved to Augusta and took +Anderson wid him to work in de compress dar. One day somethin' blowed +up and he wuz scalded so bad it paralyzed him. Dey brought him back +here, but he soon died. + +"Ma's house was right on de edge of Marse Billie's yard, 'cause she was +de cook. Grandma lived in de same house wid ma and us chillun, and she +worked in de loom house and wove cloth all de time. She wove de checkidy +cloth for de slaves clo'es, and she made flannel cloth too, leaseways, +it wuz part flannel. She made heaps of kinds of cloth. + +"Our beds had big home-made posties and frames, and us used ropes for +springs. Grandma brought her feather bed wid her from Virginny, and she +used to piece up a heap of quilts outen our ole clo'es and any kind of +scraps she could get a holt of. I don't know what de others had in dey +cabins 'cause ma didn't 'low her chillun to visit 'round de other +folkses none. + +"Ma's chillun all had vittals from de white folkses kitchen. After Marse +Billie's fambly done et and left de table, de cook wuz s'posed to take +what wuz left to feed de house niggers and her own chillun, and us did +have sho' 'nuff good vittals. All de other slave folks had day rations +weighed out to 'em every week and dey cooked in dey own cabins. When de +wheat wuz ground at de mill it made white flour, and shorts, and +seconds. Most of de shorts wuz weighed out in rations for de slave +folks. Now and den at Christmas and special times dey got a little white +flour. Dey liked cornbread for reg'lar eatin'. Dey wuz always lots of +hogs on Marse Billie's plantation, and his colored folkses had plenty of +side meat. Slaves never had no time to hunt in de day time, but dey sho' +could catch lots of 'possums at night, and dey knowed how to git catfish +at night too. + +"'Cross de road from de Big 'Ouse, Marse Billie had a big gyarden, and +he seed dat his help had plenty of somethin' good to bile. Dey won't no +separate gyardens. Dey didn't have no time to work no gyardens of dey +own. + +"In summertime us chillun wore just one piece of clo'es. It wuz a sack +apron. In winter grandma made us yarn underskirts and yarn drawers +buttoned down over our knees. Ma made our home-knit stockings. Dey +called our brass toed shoes 'brogans.' I don't speck you ever seed a +brass toed shoe! + +"Our Big 'Ouse sho' wuz one grand fine place. Why, it must have been as +big as de Mill Stone Baptist Church! It wuz all painted white wid green +blinds and had a big old high porch dat went nigh all 'round de house. + +"If I ever did hear what Marse Billie's wife wuz named, I done plum +clear forgot. Us called her 'Mist'ess' long as she lived and I don't +recollect hearin' her called nothin' else. Marster and Mist'ess never +had no little chillun whilst I was dar. Miss Lizzie wuz dey youngest +child and she wuz most grown when I wuz born. + +"Marse Billie's overseer lived in a four-room house up de road a piece +from the Big 'Ouse. Nobody thought 'bout none of Marse Billie's +overseers as pore white folkses. Every overseer he ever had wuz decent +and 'spectable. Course dey won't in de same class wid Marse Billie's +fambly, but dey was all right. Dey wuz four or five homes nigh our +plantation, but all of 'em b'longed to rich white folkses. If dey wuz +any pore white folkses 'round dar, us chillun never heared nothin' of +'em. + +"I don't know just how many slaves Marse Billie had, but dey sho' was a +drove of 'em. Sometimes he had 'em all git together in de back yard at +de Big 'Ouse, and dey just filled up de yard. + +"De overseer blowed a horn to wake 'em up just 'fore day, so as +everybody could cook, eat, and git out to de fields by sunrise. Dey quit +nigh sundown, in time for 'em to feed de stock, do de milkin', tend to +bringin' in de wood, and all sorts of other little jobs dat had to be +done 'fore it got too dark to see. Dey never wuz no work done at night +on our plantation. + +"If any of Marse Billie's help wuz whipped, I never knowed nothin' 'bout +it. Dey used to say dat if any of 'em didn't work right de overseer +would take 'em to de workshop. Us chillun never did know what happened +when dey took 'em to de workshop. It wuz too fur away for us to hear +what happened dar. De workshop was a big lone shed off to itself, whar +dey had da blacksmith place, and whar harness wuz mended, and all sorts +of fixin' done to de tools and things. + +"Us never heared of no jail. Marse Billie bossed his place and us never +knowed 'bout no trouble. De workshop wuz de nighest thing to a jail or a +court dat anybody on our plantation knowed anything 'bout. Us never seed +nobody in chains 'til long atter de War, when us wuz livin' in +Lexin'ton, and Mr. Jim Smith come through dar wid some colored folkses +all chained up, but us never did know how come dey wuz chained. + +"No slave never runned away fron Marse Billie's plantation. Dey never +even wanted to try. Dey wuz always 'fraid dey might not be able to take +as good keer of deyselves as Marse Billie did for 'em, and dey didn't +know what would happen to 'em off de plantation. + +"I heared 'em talkin' 'bout paterollers, but I never did see one. +Folkses said dey would git you and beat you if dey cotch you off de +plantation whar you b'longed 'thout no pass. If any of Marse Billie's +slaves got cotched by de paterollers, I never knowed nothin' 'bout it. + +"I never heared of no trouble twixt de white folkses and dey colored +folkses. Grandma and ma never 'lowed us to go to no other cabins, and us +didn't hear 'bout no talk what wuz goin' on 'mongst de others. At night +ma always spinned and knit, and grandma, she sewed, makin' clo'es for us +chillun. Dey done it 'cause dey wanted to. Dey wuz workin' for deyselves +den. Dey won't made to work at night. On Sadday night, ma bathed all her +chillun. I don't know what de other famblies done den. Slaves wuz 'lowed +to frolic Sadday night, if dey b'haved deyselves. On Sunday nights dey +most always had prayer meetings. + +"On Christmas mornin' all of us would come up to de yard back of de Big +'Ouse and Marse Billie and de overseer handed out presents for all. Dey +wuz a little dram and cake too. Us chillun got dolls, and dresses, and +aprons. Them stuffed rag dolls wuz de prettiest things! On New Year's +day all de mens would come up to de Big 'Ouse early in de morning and +would work lively as dey could a-cuttin' wood and doing all sorts of +little jobs 'til de dinner bell rung. Den Marse Billie would come out +and tell 'em dey wuz startin' de New Year right a-workin' lively and +fast. Den he would say dat dey would be fed good and looked atter good, +long as dey worked good. He give 'em a good taste of dram and cake all +'round, and let 'em go back to dey cabins for dinner, and dey could have +de rest of de day to frolic. + +"Dem cornshuckin's us used to have sho' wuz a sight. Corn would be piled +up high as dis house, and de folkses would dance 'round and holler and +whoop. Ma 'lowed us chillun to watch 'em 'bout a half hour; den made us +come back inside our cabin, 'cause dey always give de corn shuckin' +folkses some dram, and things would git mighty lively and rough by de +time all de corn wuz shucked. + +"On bright moonshiny nights folkses would invite de neighbors to come +for cotton pickin's. After the cotton wuz picked dey would eat barbecue, +and dance and have a big time. + +"I never seed but one weddin' 'fore freedom come, and dat wuz when Marse +Billie's daughter, Miss Lizzie Glenn, married Mr. Deadwyler. Dey had +everything at dat weddin'. Yes, Ma'am, just everything. Miss Lizzie had +on a white silk dress a-trailin' so far behind her dat it took two +ladies to tote her train. Her veil wuz floatin' all 'bout her, and she +wuz just de prettiest thing I ever did see in my whole life. A long time +atter dat, Mr. Deadwyler, he died, and left Miss Lizzie wid two chillun, +and she married Mr. Roan. + +"I never seed no slave marriage. Ma went to 'em sometimes, but she never +'lowed us to go, 'cause she said us wuz too little. Marse Billie sont +atter his own preacher, and de couple would come up to de Big 'Ouse and +stand in de parlor door to be married 'fore Marster and Mist'ess. Den +de colored folkses would go back down to da cabins and have a weddin' +supper and frolic and dance. Dat's what ma told me 'bout 'em. + +"Us used to play lots, but us never did have no special name for our +playin'. 'Swingin' the Corner,' wuz when us all jined hands in a low +row, and de leader would begin to run 'round in circles, and at de other +end of de line dey would soon be runnin' so fast dey wuz most flyin'. + +"Us all de time heared folkses talkin' 'bout voodoo, but my grandma wuz +powerful 'ligious, and her and ma told us chillun voodoo wuz a no 'count +doin' of de devil, and Christians wuz never to pay it no 'tention. Us +wuz to be happy in de Lord, and let voodoo and de devil alone. None of +us liked to hear scritch owls holler, 'cause everybody thought it meant +somebody in dat house wuz goin' to die if a scritch owl lit on your +chimney and hollered, so us would stir up de fire to make the smoke +drive him away. I always runned out and tried to see 'em, but old as I +is, nigh 86, I ain't never seed no scritch owl. + +"Yes, Ma'am, I sho' does b'lieve in ha'nts, 'cause I done heared one and +I seed it too, leasewise I seed its light. It wuz 'bout 30 years ago, +and us had just moved in a house whar a white fambly had moved out. The +ma had died a few days atter a little baby wuz born, and de baby had +died too. One night I heared a strange sound like somebody movin' 'round +in de house, and pretty soon a dim light comes a-movin' into my room +real slow and atter goin' 'round de room it went out of sight in de +closet. + +"Next day I went to see de white folkses what had lived dar 'fore us +moved in, and de husband tole me not to worry, dat it wuz his wife's +ha'nt. He said she wuz huntin' for some money she had hid in de house, +'cause she wanted her chillun what wuz still livin' to have it. I went +back home and 'most tore dat house down lookin' for dat money. Long as +us lived dar I would see dat light now and den at night, and I always +hoped it would lead me to de money but it never did. + +"When folkses got sick, Marse Billie had 'em looked atter. Mist'ess +would come every day to see 'bout 'em, and if she thought dey wuz bad +off, she sont atter Dr. Davenport. Dr. Davenport come dar so much 'til +he courted and married Marse Billie's daughter, Miss Martha Glenn. I wuz +named for Miss Martha. Dey sho' did take special good keer of de mammies +and de babies. Dey had a separate house for 'em, and a granny 'oman who +didn't have nothin' else to do but look atter colored babies and +mammies. De granny 'oman took de place of a doctor when de babies wuz +born, but if she found a mammy in a bad fix she would ax Mist'ess to +send for Dr. Davenport. + +"Us didn't have no separate church for colored folkses. De white folkses +had a big Baptist church dey called Mill Stone Church down at Goosepond, +a good ways down de road from Marse Billie's plantation. It sho' wuz a +pretty sight to see, dat church, all painted white and set in a big oak +grove. Colored folkses had dey place in de gallery. Dey won't 'lowed to +jine de church on Sunday, but dey had reg'lar Sadday afternoons for de +slaves to come and 'fess dey faith, and jine de church. Us didn't know +dey wuz no other church but de Baptist. All de baptizin' wuz done on +Sunday by de white preacher. First he would baptize de white folkses in +de pool back of de church and den he would baptize de slaves in de same +pool. + +"My grandma wuz a powerful Christian 'oman, and she did love to sing and +shout. Dat's how come Marse Billie had her locked up in de loom room +when de Yankee mens come to our plantation. Grandma would git to +shoutin' so loud she would make so much fuss nobody in de church could +hear de preacher and she would wander off from de gallery and go +downstairs and try to go down de white folkses aisles to git to de altar +whar de preacher wuz, and dey wuz always lockin' her up for 'sturbin' +worship, but dey never could break her from dat shoutin' and wanderin' +'round de meetin' house, atter she got old. + +"Dem Yankee sojers rode up in de Big 'Ouse yard and 'gun to ax me +questions 'bout whar Marse Billy wuz, and whar everything on de place +wuz kept, but I wuz too skeered to say nuthin'. Everything wuz quiet and +still as could be, 'cept for Grandma a-singin' and a-shoutin' up in de +loom house all by herself. One of dem Yankees tried the door and he axed +me how come it wuz locked. I told him it wuz 'cause grandma had 'sturbed +de Baptist meetin' wid her shoutin'. Dem mens grabbed de axe from de +woodpile and busted de door down. Dey went in and got grandma. Dey axed +her 'bout how come she wuz locked up, and she told 'em de same thing I +had told 'em. Dey axed her if she wuz hongry, and she said she wuz. Den +dey took dat axe and busted down de smokehouse door and told her she wuz +free now and to help herself to anything she wanted, 'cause everything +on de plantation wuz to b'long to de slaves dat had worked dar. Dey took +grandma to de kitchen and told ma to give her some of de white folkses +dinner. Ma said 'But de white folkses ain't et yet.' 'Go right on,' de +Yankees said, 'and give it to her, de best in de pot, and if dey's +anything left when she gets through, maybe us will let de white folkses +have some of it.' + +"Dem brash mens strutted on through de kitchen into de house and dey +didn't see nobody else down stairs. Upstairs dey didn't even have de +manners to knock at Mist'ess' door. Dey just walked right on in whar my +sister, Lucy, wuz combin' Mist'ess' long pretty hair. They told Lucy she +wuz free now and not to do no more work for Mist'ess. Den all of 'em +grabbed dey big old rough hands into Mist'ess' hair, and dey made her +walk down stairs and out in de yard, and all de time dey wuz a-pullin' +and jerkin' at her long hair, tryin' to make her point out to 'em whar +Marse Billie had done had his horses and cattle hid out. Us chilluns wuz +a-cryin' and takin' on 'cause us loved Mist'ess and us didn't want +nobody to bother her. Dey made out like dey wuz goin' to kill her if she +didn't tell 'em what dey wanted to know, but atter a while dey let her +alone. + +"Atter dey had told all de slaves dey could find on de place not to do +no more work, and to go help deyselves to anything dey wanted in de +smokehouse, and 'bout de Big 'Ouse and plantation, dey rode on off, and +us never seed no more of 'em. Atter de Yankees wuz done gone off Grandma +'gun to fuss: 'How, dem sojers wuz tellin' us what ain't so, 'cause +ain't nobody got no right to take what belongs to Marster and Mist'ess.' +And Ma jined in: 'Sho' it ain't no truf in what dem Yankees wuz +a-sayin', and us went right on living' just like us always done 'til +Marse Billie called us together and told us de war wuz over and us wuz +free to go whar us wanted to go, and us could charge wages for our work. + + +"When freedom comed my pa wanted us to move off right away over to Mr. +Smithies' place so our family could be together, but us stayed on wid +Marse Billie de rest of dat year. Den pa and ma moved to Lexin'ton, whar +pa digged walls and ditches and made right good pay. Ma took all four of +us chillun and run a good farm. Us got along fine. + +"'Fore de War, all work stopped on de plantation for de funeral of a +slave. Grandma didn't think chillun ought to see funerals, so de first +one I ever seed, wuz when ma died two years atter de War wuz done over. +A jackleg colored preacher talked, but he didn't have sense 'nuff to +preach a sho' 'nuff sermon. + +"Us heared a heap 'bout dem Ku Kluxers, but none of my folks never even +seed any of 'em. Dey wuz s'posed to have done lots of beatin' of colored +folks, but nobody knowed who dem Ku Kluxers wuz. + +"A long time atter de War I got married to Traverse Colquitt. De weddin' +took place at my sister's house, and us sho' did have a big weddin' and +a fine dinner afterwards. Den next day my husband carried me to whar he +wuz born, and his ma give us another big fine dinner. She had a table +longer dan this room, and it wuz just loaded with all sorts of good +things. De white folkses dat my husband had used to work for had sent +some of de good vittals. + +"Most of my life atter de War wuz spent in Lexin'ton. Does you know +anythin' 'bout Mr. John Bacon dat used to run de only hotel dar den? +Well, I worked for him for many a year. His daughter, Miss Mamie Bacon, +lives here in Athens and she is old and feeble like me. She lives 'bout +four blocks from here, and whenever I'se able to walk dat far, I goes +to see her to talk 'bout old times, and to git her to 'vise me how to +git along. I sho'ly does love Miss Mamie. + +"My husband died 'bout a year ago. Us had eight boys and two girls, but +dey ain't but four of our chillun livin' now. Least, I thinks dey is all +four alive. Two of my sons lives somewhar in Alabama, and one son stays +in New York. My only livin' daughter lives wid me here, pore thing! +Since she seed one of her chillun killed last year, she ain't had no +mind a t'all. I'se tryin' to look atter her and de other child. Her +husband done been dead a long time. My neighbors helps me, by bringin' +me a little to eat, when dey knows I ain't got nothin' in de house to +cook. De storekeeper lets me have a little credit, but I owe her so much +now dat I'se 'shamed to ax her to let me have anythin' else. De white +folkses on Prince Avenue is right good to let me have dey clo'es to +wash, and de young gals in the neighborhood helps me to do de washin'. I +sho' is hopin' de old age pension will soon git started comin' to me. +Some dat I know, has been gittin' dey old age pensions two or three +months. I done signed up for mine twict, so maybe it will 'gin to come +'fore I is done plum wore out." + +When her visitor was ready to leave, Martha hobbled to the door and bade +her an affectionate farewell. "Goodbye, Lady! I prays for you every +night. May de good Lord bless you." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE + +MINNIE DAVIS, Age 78 +237 Billups St. +Athens, Ga. + +Written By: +Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens, Georgia + +Edited By: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens, Georgia + +and +John N. Booth +WPA Residencies 6 & 7 + +August 29, 1938 + + +The bareness of Minnie Davis' yard was relieved by a single rosebush, +and her small house might best be described as a "tumble-down shack." An +unsteady wooden box served as a step to the fragment of porch before the +front door. + +"Good mornin', Mam," was the greeting of a Negro man who hastened to +answer the visitor's knock at the door. "Yes Mam, Miss Minnie's at +home." He turned, tapped on the door of one of the four rooms adjoining +the hall, and called: "Miss Minnie, a white lady wants to see you." +Minnie hobbled to the door and invited the visitor to her bedroom, where +a suite of handsome walnut furniture reflected the period when marble +tops were standard parts of dressers and washstands. A low chair, an old +table, and a rusty heater completed the furnishings of the room. + +Age and ill health have not dealt kindly with Minnie, and her short-cut, +kinky hair is almost white, but her eyes and face retain a remarkably +youthful appearance. She is a small thin woman of gingercake color and, +despite the sweltering heat, she wore a pink flannel nightgown, faded +and dingy, and a pair of high top black shoes, so badly run over that +she hobbled along on the sides of them. Minnie is well educated, and she +taught school for so long that her speech is remarkably free of dialect. + +When the nature of the visit was explained, Minnie said: "A white woman +has been here several times before, but I was sick and didn't understand +clearly what she wanted me to tell her." She then explained that she did +not care to talk for publication at all. She said she was hungry and had +nothing at all in the house to eat. Her nephew, Ed, an ex-postman lived +with her, she explained, and he would go for food if there was any +money. She might feel like talking a little if she had a little +something to eat. The interviewer provided the cash and Ed soon returned +with a pint of milk and some cinnamon rolls. After her repast, Minnie +began to talk, giving the impression that every word was carefully +weighed before it was uttered. + +"I was born in Greene County near Penfield, Georgia," she said. "Aggie +Crawford was my mother and she was married to Jim Young. My only sister +was Mariah, and my three brothers were Ned, John, and Jim. Ned was a +mulatto. I know who his father was, but of course you won't ask me that. +I wouldn't want to expose my own mother or the man who was Ned's father. +I was quite a small child during the war period, and I can tell you very +little of that time, except the things my mother told me when I grew old +enough to remember. My mother belonged to the Crawford family in Greene +County, but when I knew anything we were living in Athens and were the +slaves of Marster John Crawford. + +"As children we played around the yard; those of us who were old enough +had odd jobs to do. The unceiled house that my father and mother shared +with three other families was weatherboarded and had a chimney made of +sticks and dirt. There was a bed in each corner of the room and from one +to three children slept in the bed with their parents: the rest of the +children slept on the floor. The tall old home-made wooden beds had very +much the appearance of beds used now, except that cords were used +instead of the metal springs that came into use later. Our osnaburg +mattress ticks were filled with straw. I'm quite sure there were no +pillows. There was also a two-story house on the lot for slaves." She +was asked what she called her father and mother during slavery time, and +her reply was: "I have always said father and mother because I liked it +better, and the Bible teaches us to say that. + +"Grandmother Dilsey and grandfather Levi Crawford lived in Lexington. I +saw my grandmother one time, but I don't know what she did at the white +folks' house. Grandfather was a carpenter. + +"I never got any money in slavery time. If the slaves ever got any, it +was when the Yankees came through here. At that time the white people +gave their money to the slaves for safekeeping, and after the Yankees +went on it was returned to the white owners. + +"My mother was the cook and looked after the house. Oh, yes indeed, we +had good food to eat. Bread, milk, meat, collard greens, turnips, and +potatoes. I would say we had just everything that was grown in the +garden and on the plantations to eat at that time. The cooking was done +in the kitchen in the yard. The fireplace was as wide as the end of this +room, and a long iron bar extended from one end to the other. The great +cooking pots were suspended over the coals from this bar by means of pot +hooks. Heavy iron skillets with thick lids were much used for baking, +and they had ovens of various sizes. I have seen my mother bake +beautiful biscuits and cakes in those old skillets, and they were ideal +for roasting meats. Mother's batter cakes would just melt in your mouth +and she could bake and fry the most delicious fish. There was no certain +thing that I liked to eat more than anything else in those days. I was +young and had a keen appetite for all good things. Miss Fannie and Miss +Susan often made candy and it was so good I could have eaten all they +made, had they given it to me. My father hired his time out; he made and +sold gingercakes on the railroad. + +"In the summertime we wore homespun dresses made with a full skirt +gathered onto a tight-fitting waist. In the wintertime the dresses were +made of checked woolen material called linsey cloth. For underwear, we +wore balmoral petticoats and osnaburg drawers. We went barefooted most +of the time. I remember one particular time when the ground was frozen +and I went about without any shoes, but it didn't bother me. Barefooted +children seldom had bad colds in winter. We wore just anything on +Sunday, but we had to look nice and clean. + +"Marster John Crawford, son of the distinguished William H. Crawford, +was my owner. Indeed, he was good to us. I'll tell you after awhile +about the time he wouldn't let the town marshal whip my mother. They +told me his wife was a fine woman and that she was as good to her slaves +as she could be. She died very young in life and Marse John's sisters, +Miss Fannie and Miss Susan, kept house for him after that. Marse John's +three children were Miss Fannie, Miss Rosa, and Marse Allie. Miss Rosa +married Marse Tom Golden, and Miss Fannie married a Gerdine; I've +forgotten his first name. + +"Marse John may have had an overseer on one of his plantations, but I +don't remember. I do know he didn't have a carriage driver for he didn't +have a carriage. I don't believe I can describe the peculiar shape of +his fine eight-room house. It was on Dougherty Street, right back of +Scudder's School. The Crawfords were considered very uppity people and +their slaves were uppish too. Marse John didn't have many slaves and +they had to get up and get going early every morning. Marse John was +postmaster of Athens and had to be in his office by eight o'clock every +morning so he ordered that his breakfast be served regularly at +seven-thirty. + +"No Mam, our white folks didn't teach their slaves to read and write +because it was against the law. However, they did read the Bible to us, +and the slaves that were smart enough, were asked to repeat the verses +they had learned from hearing Miss Fannie, Miss Sue, and Marse John +read. The Crawford children were caught teaching my mother to read and +write, but they were made to stop. Mother was quick to learn and she +never gave up. She would steal the newspapers and read up about the war, +and she kept the other slaves posted as to how the war was progressing. +She knew when the war was over, almost as soon as Marse John did. + +"I don't recall any certain reason why the slaves were punished; they +needed it, I'm sure of that. Some folks need to be punished now. Miss +Sue, as we called her, whipped the slaves for misbehavior. I remember +one time there was quite a commotion. The town marshal came to our house +to whip my mother. It had been told that she had been writing letters, +asking people to buy whiskey from her, but Marse John wouldn't let the +marshal touch her. There was a jail, but I don't recall that any of +Marse John's slaves were ever put in there. I was told that his slaves +were, as a rule, well behaved and that they gave him no trouble. + +"Yes Mam, we went to church, that is, those of us who cared to go did. +There wasn't any separate church for colored people in Athens, that I +can remember. We went to church and Sunday School at the First +Presbyterian Church, where the slaves were allowed to sit in the +gallery. I recall that Dr. Hoyt used to pray that the Lord would drive +the Yankees back. He said that 'Niggers were born to be slaves.' My +mother said that all the time he was praying out loud like that, she was +praying to herself: 'Oh, Lord, please send the Yankees on and let them +set us free.' I wasn't enough of a singer to have a favorite song, and I +was too happy playing with the Crawford children to be interested in +going to baptizings and funerals. + +"I did go to my father's funeral. When he was taken sick Dr. Holt +attended his case, and it was not long before he told Marse John that +Father would never get well. When he died Mother hollered and screamed +something terrible. Miss Sue told her not to cry because, 'the Lord +knows best.' 'Yes, Miss Sue,' answered Mother, 'but you have never loved +a man to lose.' With that, they both cried. When anyone died in those +days, the people sat up all night and didn't go to bed until the funeral +was over. Now, no real sympathy is shown. + +"I don't believe any of Marse John's slaves ever went to the war. He was +good to them and everyone of them loved him. I heard of patterollers +chasing slaves and whipping them if they were caught away from home +without a pass, and sometimes they locked them up. However, nothing of +the kind ever happened to any of Marse John's slaves. He was a highly +respected citizen and everyone in Athens knew better than to touch his +Negroes. + +"After the work for the day was finished at the big house, the slaves +went to their quarters to weave cloth and sew, but when ten o'clock came +and the bell sounded, everything had to be quiet. Slaves on our place +worked Saturday afternoons the same as any other day. On Saturday nights +the young folks and a few of the older folks danced. Some of them got +passes from Marse John so they could visit around. They popped corn, +pulled candy, or just sat around and talked. Those of us who desired +went to Sunday School and church on Sundays; others stayed at home and +did their washing and ironing, and there was always plenty of that to be +done. + +"Christmas was a grand time at Marse John's. We had everything good to +eat under the sun at that time and, as my mother was the cook, I was +sure of getting my share of the good things. Miss Fannie and Miss Sue +played Santa Claus to slave children. I was sorry when Mary got too +smart and peeped to see what it was all about, for after that they just +came to our house and handed us the things that would have come as Santa +Claus. + +"New Year's Day was no different from other days, except that Marse John +gave the grown folks whiskey to drink that day like he did on Christmas +morning. They couldn't risk giving slaves much whiskey because it made +them mean, and then they would fight the white folks. They had to be +mighty careful about things like that in order to keep down uprisings. + +"My mother went to cornshuckings, cotton pickings, and quiltings. They +must have had wonderful times, to hear her tell it. She said that after +the corn was shucked, cotton picked, or quilts quilted, they always gave +them plenty of good things to eat and drink and let them aloose to enjoy +themselves for the balance of the night. Those things took place at +harvest time, and everyone looked forward to having a good time at that +season. Mother said that Marse John was particular with his slaves, and +wouldn't let them go just anywhere to these things. + +"About the only game I can remember playing as a child was a doll game. +The Crawford children would use me for the doll, and then when my turn +came to play mamma and claim one of them for my doll, Miss Fanny or Miss +Sue would appear and then I would have to be a doll for them. I didn't +mind, for I dearly loved them all. + +"Now about Raw Head and Bloody Bones; I am going to tell you, Miss, my +Marster's people were cultured and refined, and they wouldn't allow such +things told to their own children or to their slaves' children. They +didn't want anything said or done to frighten any little children, and +if a nurse or anyone else was caught doing such a thing, that person was +punished for it. With the heritage of training like that I could hardly +be expected to believe in such things. + +"Marse John was grand to sick slaves. He always sent for Dr. Moore, who +would make his examination and write out his prescription. When he left +his parting word was usually 'Give him a sound thrashing and he will get +better.' Of course he didn't mean that; it was his little joke. Dr. +Holt, Dr. Crawford Long, and Dr. Jones Long were sometimes called in for +consultation on particularly serious cases. We didn't like Dr. Moore and +usually begged for one of the other doctors. I don't think my white +folks used teas made of herbs, leaves or roots; they may have, but I +don't remember it. However, I do know that we wore little sacks of +asafetida around our necks to keep off diseases, and the white folks +wore it too. + +"On the day we learned of the surrender, the Negroes rallied around the +liberty flag pole that they set up near where the city hall is now. All +day long they cut up and there was a song they sung that day that went +something like this: + + 'We rally around the flag pole of liberty, + The Union forever, Hurrah! Boys Hurrah!' + +"Next morning when the Negroes got up the white folks had cut that pole +down. We were mortally afraid of the Yankees when they appeared here a +short time after the surrender. We were afraid of the Ku Klux Klan +riders too. The Negroes did act so bad; there were lots of killings +going on for a long time after the war was supposed to be over. + +"Mother was glad and sorry too that she was free. Marse John had been so +good to all his slaves that none of them really wanted to leave him. We +stayed on a while, then mother left and rented a room. She worked hard +and bought a house as soon as she could; others did the same. There were +very few slaves that had any money at all to begin on. + +"Immediately following the surrender northern people opened Knox +Institute. One of my teachers was Miss Dora Brooks, a white woman from +the North. The principal was a white man, he was Mr. Sortur. After I +graduated from Knox Institute, I went to the Atlanta University four +years, then came back to Athens and taught school here forty years. I +taught whatever grade they assigned me to each year, never any certain +grade from year to year. First and last, I've taught from first grade +through high school. I would be teaching now if it were not for my bad +health. I receive a teacher's pension, but have never applied for an old +age pension. + +"My husband was Samuel B. Davis, publisher of the _Athens Clipper_. I +published this newspaper myself for a short while after his death, then +sold it. We didn't have a big wedding, just a very simple one at my +mother's house. I was married in a nice white dress, but it was nothing +fancy. Our two children were born dead. Once I had a nice home, +beautifully furnished. All I have left of it is this old house and my +good bedroom suite. The rest of my possessions have gotten away from me +during my continued illness. + +"I often think of Abraham Lincoln; he did a good deed for my race. Jeff +Davis was a good man and, no doubt, he thought he was doing the right +thing. Booker T. Washington was a man of brilliant mind, but he was +radically wrong in many of his views pertaining to education of the +black race. He lectured here once, but I didn't bother to hear him +speak. + +"Yes Mam, indeed I had rather be free. Oh! religion is glorious. If God +has set you free from the bonds and penalties of sin, I think you ought +to live up to your Lord's commands. I dearly love to go to church and +hear the preacher tell of God. It gives me strength to live until He is +ready for me to go. + +"Now, Miss, I hope I have told you what you wanted to know, but I must +admit the things that took place way back there are rather vague in my +mind. I'm an old woman and my mind is not as clear as it once was. Next +week, if I am strong enough to make the trip, I am going to spend the +day with Mary Colbert, and go over the old times you and I have +discussed. She remembers them better than I do, because she is older." + + + + +Whitley +[HW: Unedited +Atlanta] +E. Driskell + +EX-SLAVE MOSE DAVIS +[APR 8 1937] + + +In one of Atlanta's many alleys lives Mose Davis, an ex-slave who was +born on a very large plantation 12 miles from Perry, Georgia. His master +was Colonel Davis, a very rich old man, who owned a large number of +slaves in addition to his vast property holdings. Mose Davis says that +all the buildings on this plantation were whitewashed, the lime having +been secured from a corner of the plantation known as "the lime sink". +Colonel Davis had a large family and so he had to have a large house to +accommodate these members. The mansion, as it was called, was a great +big three-storied affair surrounded by a thick growth of cedar trees. + +Mose's parents, Jennie and January Davis, had always been the property +of the Davis family, naturally he and his two brothers and two sisters +never knew any other master than "The Old Colonel". + +Mr. Davis says that the first thing he remembers of his parents is being +whipped by his mother who had tied him to the bed to prevent his running +away. His first recollection of his father is seeing him take a drink of +whiskey from a five gallon jug. When asked if this was'nt against the +plantation rules "Uncle Mose" replied: "The Colonel was one of the +biggest devils you ever seen--he's the one that started my daddy to +drinking. Sometimes he used to come to our house to git a drink +hisself". + +Mose's Father was the family coachman. "All that he had to do was to +drive the master and his family and to take care of the two big grey +horses that he drove. Compared to my mother and the other slaves he had +an easy time," said Uncle Mose, shaking his head and smiling: "My daddy +was so crazy about the white folks and the horses he drove until I +believe he thought more of them than he did of me. One day while I was +in the stable with him one of the horses tried to kick me and when I +started to hit him Daddy cussed me and threatned to beat me." + +His mother, brothers, and sisters, were all field hands, but there was +never any work required of Mose, who was play-mate and companion to +Manning, the youngest of Colonel Davis' five sons. These two spent most +of the time fishing and hunting. Manning had a pony and buggy and +whenever he went to town he always took Mose along. + +Field hands were roused, every morning by the overseer who rang the +large bell near the slave quarters. Women [TR: and] young children were +permitted to remain at home until 9 o'clock to prepare breakfast. At 9 +o'clock these women had to start to the fields where they worked along +with the others until sundown. The one break in the day's work was the +noon dinner hour. Field hands planted and tended cotton, corn, and the +other produce grown on the plantation until harvest time when everybody +picked cotton. Slaves usually worked harder during the picking season +than at any other time. After harvest, the only remaining work was +cleaning out fence corners, splitting rails building fences and numerous +other minor tasks. In hot weather, the only work was shelling corn. +There was no Sunday work other than caring for the stock. + +On this plantation there were quite a few skilled slaves mostly +blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, plasterers, and a cobbler. One of +Mose's brothers was a carpenter. + +All slaves too old for field work remained at home where some took care +of the young children, while others worked in the loom houses helping +make the cloth and the clothing used on the plantation. Since no work +was required at night, this time was utilized by doing personal work +such as the washing and the repairing of clothing, etc. + +On the Fourth of July or at Christmas Colonel Davis always had a +festival for all his slaves. Barbecue was served and there was much +singing and dancing. These frolics were made merrier by the presence of +guests from other plantations. Music was furnished by some of the slaves +who also furnished music at the mansion whenever the Col. or some of the +members of his family had a party. There was also a celebration after +the crops had been gathered. + +Although there was only one distribution of clothing per year nobody +suffered from the lack of clothes because this one lot had enough to +last a year if properly cared for. The children wore one piece garments, +a cross between a dress and a slightly lengthened shirt, made of +homespun or crocus material [TR note: "crocus" is a coarse, loosely +woven material like burlap]. No shoes were given them until winter and +then they got the cast-offs of the grown ups. The men all wore pants +made of material known as "ausenberg". The shirts and under wear were +made of another cotton material. Dresses for the women were of striped +homespun. All shoes were made on the premises of the heaviest leather, +clumsely fashioned and Uncle Mose says that slaves like his father who +worked in the mansion, were given much better clothing. His father +received of "The Colonel" and his grown sons many discarded clothes. One +of the greatest thrills of Mose's boyhood was receiving first pair of +"ausenberg" pants. As his mother had already taught him to knit (by +using four needles at one time) all that he had to do was to go to his +hiding place and get the socks that he had made. + +None of the clothing worn by the slaves on this particular plantation +was bought. Everything was made by the slaves, even to the dye that was +used. + +Asked if there was sufficient food for all slaves, Uncle Mose said "I +never heard any complaints." At the end of each week every family was +given some fat meat, black molasses, meal and flour in quantity varying +with the size of the family. At certain intervals during the week, they +were given vegetables. Here too, as in everything else, Mose's father +was more fortunate than the others, since he took all his meals at the +mansion where he ate the same food served to the master and his family. +The only difference between Week-day and Sunday diet was that biscuits +were served on Sundays. The children were given only one biscuit each. +In addition to the other bread was considered a delicacy. All food stuff +was grown on the plantation. + +The slave quarters were located a short distance below the mansion. The +cabins one-roomed weatherboard structures were arranged so as to form a +semi-circle. There was a wide tree-lined road leading from the master's +home to these cabins. + +Furnishings of each cabin consisted of one or two benches, a bed, and a +few cooking utensils. These were very crude, especially the beds. Some +of them had four posts while the ends of others were nailed to the +walls. All lumber used in their construction was very heavy and rough. +Bed springs were unheard of--wooden slats being used for this purpose. +The mattresses were large ausenberg bags stuffed to capacity with hay, +straw, or leaves. Uncle Mose told about one of the slaves, named Ike, +whose entire family slept on bare pine straw. His children were among +the fattest on the plantation and when Colonel Davis tried to make him +put this straw in a bag he refused claiming that the pine needles kept +his children healthy. + +The floors and chimneys on the Davis Plantation were made of wood and +brick instead of dirt and mud as was the case on many of the other +surrounding plantations. One window (with shutters instead of window +panes) served the purpose of ventilation and light. At night pine knots +or candles gave light. The little cooking that the slaves did at home +was all done at the open fireplace. + +Near the living quarters was a house known as the "chillun house." All +children too young for field work stayed at this house in the care of +the older slave women. There was no hospital building on the premises. +The sick had to remain in their individual cabins where they too were +cared for by slaves too old for field work. + +Only one family lived in a cabin. Mose's mother and father each had a +separate cabin. He did not explain the reason for this but said that he +was made to live in his father's cabin. Whenever he could, (usually when +his father was away with the Colonel for a day or two) he stayed in his +mothers cabin. "The only difference between the houses we lived in +during slavery and those that some of us live in now who said is that we +had more room there than we have now." He says that even the community +cook house was larger than some of the living quarters of today. All +cabins were white washed the same as the other buildings on the +plantation, and the occupants were required to keep the interiors and +the surrounding clean at all times. The overseer's cabin was located a +short distance away from the slave cabins, so that it would be easier +for him to keep check on his charges. + +There was little if any sickness but Colonel Davis employed a doctor who +visited the plantation each week. On other occasions the overseer +administered such remedies as castor oil, turpentine, etc., and the +slaves had remedies of their own. For stomach ache they used a tea made +of Jimson weeds. Another medicine was heart leaf tea. Manual and +religious training were the only types allowed on the plantation. Trades +like carpentry, blacksmithing, etc. were learned from the white +mechanics sometimes employed by Colonel Davis. All slaves were required +to attend church and a special building was known as "Davis' Chapel." A +Negro preacher officiated and no white people were present. Uncle Mose +doesn't know what was preached as he and Manning always slipped into +town on Sundays to see the girls. Uncle Mose says he and Manning were +together so much that occasionally they even slept in the same +bed,--sometimes in Manning's house and sometimes at his own house. + +A pool for baptism was filled with well water. The colored pastor +performed all baptisms and marriages. + +Book learning was prohibited in any form. Sometimes Mose tried to +persuade Manning to teach him to read and write but Manning always +refused. Mose's cousin who was taught to read and write forged Colonel +Davis' name to a check and drew the money from the bank before the hand +writing was discovered. For this act he was given a sound whipping and +assigned to hard labor by the master, "And", said Uncle Mose, "he didn't +even have the pleasure of spending one penny". When asked if his cousin +was arrested and placed in jail he replied that the jails were not for +the slaves, as their punishment was usually left to their individual +masters. When his cousin was whipped this was an exception to "The +Colonel's rule"; he was entirely against any form of whipping. His usual +method of punishment was to cut off individual privileges for a limited +amount of time (in proportion to the nature of the offense), along with +an assignment of extra heavy work. + +The fame of the "Paddle-Rollers" was widespread among the slaves, but +none of Colonel Davis' servants attempted to run away or leave the +plantation often without the required pass (if they did they were never +caught). + +There was very little talk on the plantation about the actual beginning +of the Civil War. Slaves was very guarded in their talk as they feared +the master's wrath. Uncle Mose thought little or nothing about the War +and had even less to say. + +When the Yankee soldiers came to the plantation they drove wagons to the +smoke house and took all the meat away. "The funny part about it was +that "The Colonel" had taken shelter in this particular house when he +saw the Yankees coming," said Uncle Mose. "He didn't have time to hide +any of his other belongings." When the soldiers had left, The Colonel +looked around and said to Manning and Mose: "Just like I get that, I +guess I can get some more." + +Uncle Mose says that when freedom was declared, his father came rushing +to their cabin waving his arms like a windmill, shouting: "Boy we is +free--you can go and git yourself a job 'cause I ain't goin' to hitch up +no more horses". Some of the slaves remained on the plantation where +they worked for wages until their deaths. His father was one of them and +after his death, his mother moved to another plantation to live with +another son. Meanwhile Mose started traveling from place to place as +soon as he was told that he was free to go as he pleased. He paid one +visit to the plantation where he learned of his father's death. He then +asked Manning, who was operating the plantation, for the ox that had +belonged to his father and when Manning refused to part with this +animal, he made a secret visit back, that night, and took the animal +away. He has not been back since. + +At this time Mr. Davis stretched himself, saying: "Well, I guess that's +about as straight as I can get it--Wish that I could tell you some more +but I can't." Smiling broadly, he bade the interviewer a pleasant +good-bye. + + + + +EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW + +IKE DERRICOTTE, Age 78 +554 Hancock Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Grace McCune +Athens + +Edited by: +Mrs. Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Georgia + +August 19, 1938 + +[TR: One page of this interview was repeated in typescript; where there +was a discrepancy, the clearer version was used.] + + +Ike Derricotte's brown-painted, frame bungalow, well back from the +street, faces a wide grassy yard where tall pecan trees provide summer +shade and winter nuts. + +A mulatto woman answered the knock at the front door. Her long, +straight, white hair was neatly arranged in a low-pinned coil at the +back of her head. Her print frock and white shoes were immaculate. "Yes +Mam, Ike is at home," was the answer to the inquiry for her husband. +"Jus' have a seat on de porch here 'cause it's so much cooler dan inside +de house, and I'll call Ike. He's jus' piddlin' 'round de back yard dis +mornin'." + +Almost at once a tall, well-built man of gingercake color appeared. He +wore an old black cap, blue work shirt, blue wool trousers, and black +shoes. "Howdy-do, Miss! Did you want to see me?" was his greeting. His +eyes sparkled when he learned that we wished to record the story of his +life. "Yes Mam, I'll be glad to tell you what I kin," he promised, "and +Miss, I'll jus' bet I kin tell you somepin dat very few folks kin say +'bout dem old days. I was born right here on dis same street, and I'm +still livin' on it, but dis house and lot ain't my birthplace. When I +was born, dis section was mostly in woods. Jus' look at it now; houses +has been built up and down both sides of what was den jus' de big road. +Times has changed in lots of ways since dem days. + +"My mother's name was Myra, and she was a laundry 'oman owned by Mr. +Stevens Thomas. Mr. Thomas was one of de biggest merchants in Athens dem +days. He owned de square between Thomas Street and Wall Street, and it +s'tended back to Clayton Street. + +"William Derricotte was my father, and he belonged to Col. Robert +Thomas. My father spent most of his time beautifyin' de yards 'round de +big house, and in dese days and times he would be called a landscape +gardener. Dey jus' called 'em yard boys den. Atter Pa and Ma was +married, Marster Stevens sold Ma to Marster Robert, so dat dey could be +together. Mr. Robert Thomas' place was right up dis same old street, +whar de Y.W.C.A. is now, and right dar is whar I was born. Dat was in +1860, a long time ago; and lots of things has happened since den. Lots +of people has moved away and lots more has died out, 'til dere ain't +many of de folks left here dat lived in Athens den. De Thomases, +Dorseys, and Phinizys was some of de oldest families here. + +"I was too little to know much about de war but, little as I was, dere's +one thing dat's still as fresh in my memory now as den, and dat's how +people watched and waited to hear dat old Georgia train come in. Not +many folks was able to take de papers den, and de news in 'em was from +one to two weeks old when dey got here. All de men dat was able to fight +was off at de front and de folks at home was anxious for news. De way +dat old train brought 'em de news was lak dis: if de southern troops was +in de front, den dat old whistle jus' blowed continuously, but if it +was bad news, den it was jus' one short, sharp blast. In dat way, from +de time it got in hearin', evvybody could tell by de whistle if de news +was good or bad and, believe me, evvybody sho' did listen to dat train. + +"Times was hard durin' de war but from what I've heared de folks dat was +old folks den say, dey warn't near as bad here as in lots of other +places. Yes Mam! Sho' I kin 'member dem Yankees comin' here, but dat was +atter de war was done over. Dey camped right here on Hancock Avenue. +Whar dey camped was mostly woods den, and deir camp reached nearly all +de way to whar Milledge Avenue is now. Us chillun was scared to death of +dem soldiers and stayed out of deir way all us could. My Marster, Mr. +Stevens Thomas, hid all of his family's silver and other valuables dat +could be put out of sight, for dem Yankees jus' went 'round takin' +whatever dey wanted. Dey stole all kinds of food out of de homes, went +into de smokehouses and got hams, and cotched up de chickens. Dey jus' +reached out and tuk what dey wanted and laughed about it lak dey hadn't +been stealin'. + +"Dem Yankees brought de smallpox here wid 'em and give it to all de +Athens folks, and dat was somepin awful. Folks jus' died out wid it so +bad. Dey built a hospital what dey called de 'pest house' out whar de +stockade is now. It was rough and small but I reckon it helped some. It +warn't near large enough for all de folks dat was sick wid smallpox at +one time, and so dey finally got to whar dey used it jus' for de colored +folks, 'cause it seemed dat smallpox went harder wid dem dan wid de +white folks. + +"When de war ended us didn't leave Mr. Stevens Thomas. Ma kept on +cookin' and wukin' 'round de house, and Pa wuked lots for other folks, +larned to do brick-work, build walls, and things lak dat. Atter he got +to be a brickmason he allus had plenty to do. + +"Marbles was de favorite game of de chillun dem days but us never got to +play much lak chillun does dese days, 'cause times was so hard right +atter de war dat as soon as chillun got big enough dey had to go to wuk. +Some of our very best times was at de old swimmin' hole. Us dammed up +dat little crick right back of whar de Seaboard Depot is now and it made +a fine pool to swim in. It was cool for it was shady off down dar in de +woods, and us spent many a hour dar on days as hot as dis one is. When +dey missed us at home, dat was de fust place dey thought of when dey +come to hunt us. I had some mighty good times in dat crick and I +couldn't begin to count de duckin's I got dar and de whuppin's my Ma and +Pa give me for stayin' so long. + +"De biggest time in all de year was de Commencement Day; evvybody got +busy and fixed up for dat. My Marster allus had lots of company at +commencement times, and us had de most good things to eat. Out in town +dey was 'pared for it too. Tables was all along de sidewalks whar you +could buy any kind of 'freshments you wanted. Course dere warn't as many +kinds of 'freshments den as dey has now, but dere was allus plenty of de +strong sort. One time durin' commencement week, Ma give me a whole +quarter to spend. I was de happiest and de richest boy in dis town; +jus' had more money to spend dan anybody, and I walked de streets from +one table to another tryin' to see whar I was gwine to spend all dat +money." Here, Ike laughed heartily. "Miss," he said, "you jus' never +could guess what I spent all dat money for. I bought a whole quarter's +worth of ginger-cakes and lit out for de swimmin' hole. Us chillun had a +fine time down at de swimmin' hole dat day. De Cobbs and Lumpkins owned +all dat land in dar 'round our swimmin' hole den. Dey owned from de +Catholic Church straight through to College Avenue. + +"I mighty well 'member de fust wuk I ever done. I was still jus' a +little fellow when Miss Belle Brumby told Ma she wanted me for a butler +boy and dat she would pay me $2.50 a month. I jus' jumped up and down +and begged her to let me wuk for Miss Belle. Why, I jus' knowed I would +git rich right away, 'cause $2.50 was a mighty lot of money." Ike +laughed as he said: "How many boys would wuk for dat pay for a week now, +let alone a whole month? Ma did let me wuk for Miss Belle and I was +happy, but I know my Mist'ess had a time wid me 'cause, when I got on +dat white coat dey let me wear to wait on de table, I knowed more dan +evvybody else put together and dere couldn't nobody tell me how to keep +de flies off de table. Miss Belle is one fine 'oman, dey jua' don't come +no finer and no better. + +"When I was fourteen my Pa hired me out to be a shoemaker. De shop whar +I was 'prenticed was down on Broad Street, jus' about whar de Bernstein +Furniture Store is now. Dat old buildin' was tore down long years ago +and evvything 'long dar is changed now. De Athens Hardware Store is de +only Broad Street business of dem days dat has stood in de same place +and endured through all dese years. + +"When I went to wuk for Mr. Joe Barry in his shoe shop on Jackson +Street, right in back of whar Mr. Lee Morris' store is now, I felt lak I +had got to be a real sho' 'nough important shoemaker. I wuked for him +'bout 12 or 14 years. He was a good man to wuk for and he was de only +shoemaker I ever knowed to git rich at his trade; he really did make +money in dat shop. I've been a shoemaker ever since 1874, but I never +have been able to git far ahead. In spite of all our trouble for 85 +years atter de war, it seems to me dat times was much better den dan dey +is now. Course, folks didn't make as much den as dey does now. +Carpenters, bricklayers, shoemakers, in fact 'most any kind of laborers +who got from $1.00 to $1.50 a day thought dey had fine wages den. Boys +was paid from $2.50 to $5.00 a month. Cooks got $5.00 to $6.00 a month, +and of course, dey got deir meals whar dey wuked. Sometimes odds and +ends of old clothes was give to 'em, and dey got along very well, even +if most of 'em did have families and big families at dat. Folks could +live on less den 'cause things was cheaper. You could git meal for 50c a +bushel; side meat was 5c to 6c a pound; and you could git a 25-pound +sack of flour for 50c. Wood was 50c a load. House rent was so cheap dat +you didn't have to pay over $3.00 a month for a 2 or 3 room house, and +lots of times you got it cheaper. Most evvybody wore clothes made out of +homespun cloth and jeans, and dey didn't know nothin' 'bout ready-made, +store-bought clothes. Dem clothes what dey made at home didn't cost very +much. Livin' was cheap, but folks lived mighty well in dem days. + +"Us has been married more dan 50 years and dey has all been happy years. +Us has had our troubles and hard luck, but dey come to evvybody. De Lord +has been mighty good to us, 'specially in lettin' us be together so +long. It was what you might call a case of love at fust sight wid us. I +was visitin' down at Camak, Georgia at Christmastime. She lived at +Sparta, and was spendin' Christmas at Camak too, but I didn't see her +'til I was 'bout to leave for Athens. I jus' thought I never could go +'way atter I fust seed her, but I did, and I didn't git to see her again +for 12 long months. Us writ to one another all dat year and got married +at Christmastime, one year from de time us fust met. + +"Us has still got dat old pen I used when I writ and axed her to marry +me; I'd lak to show it to you. 'Scuse me please whilst I goes in de +house to git it." Soon Ike returned. "Ain't it a sight?" he proudly +exclaimed as he displayed the relic. "I made it up myself in December +1886 and it got her consent to marry me, so I'se kept it ever since. My +wife and me wouldn't part wid it for nothin'." The wooden pen staff is +very smooth as though from long usage except at the tip end, where it +appears to have been gnawed. It looks very much as though Ike may have +chewed on it as he wrote that all important letter. The iron pen point, +much too large to fit the standard grooves of the ordinary pen staff, +was placed on the staff and tightly wrapped. After 52 years of service +the pen point and its staff are still in good condition. Ike has the +Prince Albert coat that he wore on his wedding day and he insists that +it looks and fits as well now as it did on the occasion of his marriage. +"I'm keepin' de coat and pen for our chillun," he declared. + +Before resuming the conversation, Ike went back in the house to put the +treasured pen away. In a few moments he returned. "God has been good to +us," he said, "for He let us have all nine of our chillun 'til dey was +grown up. Us wuked mighty hard to raise 'em and give all of 'em a good +education. Dat was somepin us couldn't have when us was growin' up and +I'm thankful to be able to say dat us was able to send 'em all to +college. Four of our chillun has gone on ahead to de next world, and de +five dat's left is scattered from place to place; none of 'em is wid us +now, but dey don't forgit us. Dey writes to us and visits us often and +us goes to see dem. One son is goin' mighty well as a lawyer in +Washin'ton, D.C., and our baby lives in New York City. It's been 'bout 3 +years now since my daughter Juliette died atter a automobile wreck near +Dalton, Georgia. Did you know 'bout Juliette? She give her life to wuk +for de Y.W.C.A., and she went all over de world tryin' to make things +better for de young women of our race. Somebody writ a memorial book +'bout her. I wish dere was a copy of dat book here for you to see, but +it was borrowed from us and it ain't been returned. + +"Did you know I had jus' come back from Washin'ton, whar I visited dat +lawyer son of mine? He sends for me nearly evvy summer and I enjoy +visitin' dar, but I wouldn't lak to live up dar 'cause dem folks ain't +lak our own southern people. I must say dey is mighty nice and good to +me when I goes dar though. Once when I was dar somebody told me dat if I +wanted to have a good time I mustn't let nobody know I was a Georgian +'cause dey said dat de northerners don't lak our State. De rest of de +time I was dar on dat visit I tuk partic'lar pleasure in tellin' +evvybody how proud I was of my State and my home. + +"Dat reminds me of Miss Sally Hodgson. She was in de North, and one +evenin' she was tryin' to tell de folks up dar dat de southern people +warn't as bad as some of de Yankees had said dey was, and dat de white +folks down South didn't mistreat de colored folks. Miss Sally said dat +de very next mornin' de papers up dar was full of news 'bout de lynchin' +of 8 Negroes in one night at Watkinsville. If you had knowed Miss Sally, +you would know how funny dat was," Ike laughed. "She said atter dat dere +warn't no way she could convince dem folks up dar dat Georgia was a good +place to live in. + +"Us had some good friends in de North and sometimes dey comes down here +to see us. One of my wife's friends, a 'oman wid a lot of education has +jus' gone back to Philadelphia atter a visit here in our home. Us +travels a good deal and us has found dat de world ain't so large but dat +us is allus runnin' up against somebody dat us knows wherever us goes. + +"Sometimes when you is in a strange place it's mighty handy to find +somebody you have knowed a long time ago. I 'member one time when I was +visitin' in Washin'ton and wanted to git a glimpse of de President. I +didn't say nothin' to nobody 'bout what was on my mind, but atter my son +went to his wuk in de mornin' I slipped off to de capitol widout tellin' +nobody whar I was gwine. I found a waitin' room outside de President's +office and I made up my mind I would set dar 'til de President had to go +out for dinner or to go home for supper. I never thought about he might +have a side door he could come and go from widout usin' de door to de +waitin' room. Atter I had set dar in dat waitin' room de best part of +two days watchin' for de President, somebody said: 'Howdy, Uncle Ike! +What is you doin' here in de President's waitin' room?' I looked up and +dar stood Albon Holsey. He had growed up in Athens. He was de boy dey +'signed to wait on President Taft when he was at Miss Maggie Welch's +home for a day and night in January 'fore he was inaugurated. I bet +Albon is still got dat $5.00 Mr. Taft give him de mornin' he left +Athens, but he don't need to spend it now 'cause folks say he got rich +off of his chain of stores for colored folks, and anyhow he's got a fine +job dese days. Well, I s'plained to Albon dat I was jus' waitin' to git +a peep at de President whenever he happened to pass through dat room. +Albon he smiled sort of wise-like. He tuk out one of his cyards and writ +sompin on it, and axed a lady to take it right in to de President. She +warn't gone 2 minutes 'fore she come back and said: 'De President will +see Mr. Holsey and his friend now.' I was wuss skeered dan I has ever +been at any other time in my life. Us walked in and I was 'fraid de +President could hear my knees knockin' together, and my heart was +beatin' so fast and loud it seemed to me lak it was 'bout to bust. De +President spoke to us and when he found out dat I was from Athens, he +axed me lots of questions. He said dat he was interested in Athens. Soon +Albon said us must be goin' and when us got out of dar I was right weak, +but I was might proud and happy to think de President had tuk time to +talk pleasant lak wid a pore old Negro shoemaker. + +"Another time in Washin'ton a friend of my son's tuk me to a club one +night whar some of de richest of our race is members. Dat night I met a +man who had went to school wid de Mr. Teddy Roosevelt dat was President +atter Mr. McKinley; den I met another Negro dat had been a classmate of +President Hoover and one dat went to school wid President Franklin D. +Roosevelt. It's right strange how dey all heads for Washin'ton, D.C. to +stay. + +"Athens has allus been a real quiet town, and dere never was no real +serious trouble here 'tween de races, not even when Matt Davis and Pink +Morton was Postmasters here. People was allus predictin' trouble 'bout +dat, but de folks here was too level-headed for dat. Dey knowed dey +could straighten out deir own troubles widout havin' to fly off de +handle in a race riot, and so dey 'tended to deir own business' and de +races got along all right through it all. + +"Atter all, Athens is a good place to live in. Here us has de best +neighbors in de world; dey's allus ready to look atter one another in +times of sickness and trouble. Wid de kind of good, Christian folks dat +lives here, Athens is bound to go ahead." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +BENNY DILLARD, Age 80 +Cor. Broad and Derby Streets +Athens, Ga. + +Written by: +Grace McCune [HW: (white)] +Athens + +Edited by: Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +Augusta, Ga. + + +Benny's rocky little yard is gay with flowers and a flourishing rose +vine shades the small porch at the front of his ramshackle two-room +cabin. The old Negro was busily engaged at washing his clothes. He is of +medium size, darker than gingerbread in color, and his clothing on this +day consisted of a faded blue shirt, pants adorned with many patches, +and brogans. A frayed sun hat covered the gray hair that is "gittin' +mighty thin on de top of my haid." + +Benny was singing as he worked and his quavering old voice kept tune and +rhythm to a remarkable degree as he carefully and distinctly pronounced: + + "Jesus will fix it for you, + Just let Him have His way + He knows just how to do, + Jesus will fix it for you." + +Almost in the same breath he began another song: + + "All my sisters gone, + Mammy and Daddy too + Whar would I be if it warn't + For my Lord and Marster." + +About this time he looked up and saw his visitor. Off came the old sun +hat as he said: "'Scuse me, Missy, I didn't know nobody was listenin' to +dem old songs. I loves to sing 'em when I gits lonesome and blue. But +won't you come up on my porch and have a cheer in de shade? Dere's a +good breeze on dat little porch." Having placed a chair for the visitor +and made himself comfortable on a crude bench, Benny began his story: + +"Missy, de good Lord gives and he takes away, and us old darkies is +a-passin' out of dis world. Dat was why I was a-singin'. One of my +bestest friends done passed on to Glory dis very mornin'. I knows I'se +goin' to miss old Randal Clayton 'cause both of us warn't no good but +for to set and talk 'bout old times." Tears rolled down his face as he +told of his friend, and the visitor, fearful that he was too much +overcome by grief to be able to give a good story, suggested that +another engagement be made to record his reminiscences, but he objected. +"Lawsy, Missy!" he protested. "Please don't go now, for dem old times is +on my mind today and I would so love to talk 'bout 'em now, if you don't +mind. If I talks too much, jus' tell me, 'cause I'se mighty apt to do +dat when onct I gits started. + +"My Mammy and Daddy, dey warn't from dis part of de country. My Mammy +said dat not long atter she got to America from a trip on de water dat +took nigh 6 months to make, dey brung her from Virginny and sold her +down here in Georgy when she was jus' 'bout 16 years old. De onliest +name she had when she got to Georgy was Nancy. I don't know whar my +Daddy come from. Him and Mammy was both sold to Marse Isaac Dillard and +he tuk 'em to live on his place in Elbert County, close to de place dey +calls Goose Pond. Dey lived at home on dat big old plantation. By dat, I +means dat Marse Isaac growed evvything needed to feed and clothe his +folks 'cept de little sugar, coffee, and salt dey used. I don't 'member +so much 'bout times 'fore de big war 'cause I warn't but 6 years old +when us was made free. Tellin' de slaves dey was free didn't make much +diff'unce on our place, for most of 'em stayed right on dar and wukked +wid Old Marster jus' lak dey allus done. Dat plantation was jus' lak a +little town, it was so big and it had evvything us wanted and needed. + +"Slaves lived in log cabins what had red mud daubed in de cracks 'twixt +de logs. De roofs was made out of boards what had so many cracks 'twixt +'em, atter a few rains made 'em swink (shrink), dat us could lay in bed +and see de stars through dem big holes. Even if us did have leaky +houses, folkses didn't git sick half as much as dey does now. Our +homemade beds was made out of rough planks nailed to high poles; +leastways de poles was high for de headpieces, and a little lower for de +footpieces. For most of dem beds, planks was nailed to de wall for one +long side and dere was two laigs to make it stand straight on de other +long side. Dey never seed no metal springs dem days but jus' wove cords +back and forth, up and down and across, to lay de mattress on. I never +seed no sto'-bought bed 'til atter I was married. Bedticks was made out +of homespun cloth stuffed wid wheatstraw, and sometimes dey slept on rye +or oatstraw. Pillows was stuffed wid hay what had a little cotton mixed +in it sometimes. Atter a long day of wuk in de fields, nobody bothered +'bout what was inside dem pillows. Dey slept mighty good lak dey was. +Dey fixed planks to slide across de inside of de holes dey cut out for +windows. De doors swung on pegs what tuk de place of de iron hinges dey +uses dese days. Dem old stack chimblies was made out of sticks and red +mud. + +"De fireplaces was a heap bigger dan dey has now, for all de cookin' was +done in open fireplaces den. 'Taters and cornpone was roasted in de +ashes and most of de other victuals was biled in de big old pots what +swung on cranes over de coals. Dey had long-handled fryin' pans and +heavy iron skillets wid big, thick, tight-fittin' lids, and ovens of all +sizes to bake in. All of dem things was used right dar in de fireplace. +Dere never was no better tastin' somepin t'eat dan dat cooked in dem old +cook-things in open fireplaces. + +"Chillun never had no wuk to do. Dey jus' et and frolicked around +gittin' into evvything dey could find. Dey never got no lickin's 'less +dey was mighty bad, 'cause our Marster said he warn't gwine to 'low no +beatin' on his Niggers 'cept what he done his own self, and dat was +pow'ful little. In hot weather chillun played on de crick and de best +game of all was to play lak it was big meetin' time. White chillun loved +to play dar too wid de little slave chillun. Us would have make-believe +preachin' and baptizin' and de way us would sing was a sight. One of dem +songs us chillun loved de best went lak dis: + + 'Why does you thirst + By de livin' stream? + And den pine away + And den go to die. + + 'Why does you search + For all dese earthly things? + When you all can + Drink at de livin' spring, + And den can live.' + +"When us started playin' lak us was baptizin' 'em, us th'owed all us +could ketch right in de crick, clothes and all, and ducked 'em. Whilst +us was doin' dat, us was singin': + + 'Git on board, git on board + For de land of many mansions, + Same old train dat carried + My Mammy to de Promised Land.' + +"One day our Marster hid in de trees and watched us 'cause Mist'ess had +done been fussin' down 'bout chillun all comin' in soaked to de hide. He +waited 'til he seed all de preachin' and baptizin', den he hollered for +us to stop and he tuk de ones what was doin' all de baptizin' and made +'em pray and sing, den he ducked 'em good in de water and made us all go +up to de house to show Mist'ess how come so many of dem pore chillun +had done been gittin' wet so much. Us got a tannin' den dat Marster +'lowed would help us to git sho' 'nough 'ligion. + +"De wooden bowls what slave chillun et out of was made out of sweetgum +trees. Us et wid mussel shells 'stid of spoons. Dem mussel shells was +all right. Us could use 'em to git up plenty of bread and milk, or +cornpone soaked wid peas and pot likker. Dey never let chillun have no +meat 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Us had biscuit once a +week, dat was Sunday breakfast, and dem biscuits was cakebread to us. De +fust bought meat us chillun ever seed was a slab of side-meat Daddy got +from de sto' atter us had done left de plantation, and us was skeered to +eat it 'cause it warn't lak what us had been used to. + +"Chillun jus' wore one piece of clothes in summertime and dey all went +bar'foots. De gals' summer gyarment was a plain, sleeveless apron dress, +and de boys wore skimpy little shirts and nothin' else. Dey mixed +cow-hair wid de cotton when dey wove de cloth to make our winter clothes +out of, and I'm a-tellin' you Missy, dat cow-hair cloth sho' could +scratch, but it was good and warm and Marster seed to it dat us had all +de clothes us needed. De 'omans made all de cloth used on de place; dey +cyarded, spun, and den wove it. Mammy was de weaver; dat was all she +done, jus' wove cloth. Dey dyed it wid red mud and ink balls, and sich +lak. + +"Marster never lakked to git up real early hisself in slavery time, so +he had one man what got de Niggers up out of bed so early dat dey had +done et breakfast and was in de field when daylight come. Atter de war +was over and evvybody was free, all de Niggers used to jus' piddle and +play 'round evvy mornin' whilst dey was waitin' for Marster to come. Dem +and de mules would be jus' a-standin' still and when de word was passed +dat Marster had done got up all of 'em would start off wid a rush, jus' +a-hollerin': 'Whoa, dar! Gee haw!' jus' lak dey had done been wukkin' +hard all mornin'. One day Marster cotch 'em at it, and he didn't say a +word 'til time come to pay off, and he tuk out for all de time dey had +lost. + +"Sometimes slaves run away and hid out in caves. Dey would pile up rocks +and sticks and pine limbs to hide de caves, and sometimes dey would stay +hid out for weeks, and de other Niggers would slip 'em somepin t'eat at +night. Dere warn't many what run off on our place, 'cause our Marster +was so good to all of 'em dat dere warn't nothin' to run from. + +"Marster made all his wuk tools at home. Plow-sheers was made out of +wood trimmed to de right shape and fastened to a iron point. When dey +was plowin' in de young cotton, dey nailed a board on one side of de +plow to rake de dirt back up 'round de cotton plants. + +"Marster's gin was turned by a mule. Dat big old gin wheel had wooden +cogs what made de gin wuk when de old mule went 'round and 'round +hitched to dat wheel. Dat old cotton press was a sight. Fust dey cut +down a big old tree and trimmed off de limbs and made grooves in it for +planks to fit in. It was stood up wid a big weight on top of it, over de +cotton what was to be pressed. It was wukked by a wheel what was turned +by a mule, jus' lak de one what turned de gin. A old mule pulled de pole +what turned de syrup mill too. Missy, dem old mules done deir part 'long +side de Niggers dem days, and Marster seed dat his mules had good keer +too. When dem mules had done turned de mill 'til de juice was squez out +of de sugarcane stalks, dey strained dat juice and biled it down 'til it +was jus' de finest tastin' syrup you ever did see. Marster's mill whar +he ground his wheat and corn was down on de crick, so de water could +turn de big old wheel. + +"Dem old cornshuckin's was sho' 'nough big times, 'cause us raised so +much corn dat it tuk several days to shuck it all. Us had to have two +generals. Dey chose sides and den dey got up on top of de biggest piles +of corn and kept de slaves a-singin' fast so dey would wuk fast. De fust +crowd what finished got de prize. Dere ain't much I can 'member of words +to dem old cornshuckin' songs. One general would start off singin': +'Shuck up dis corn, shuck up dis corn, 'cause us is gwine home,' and de +other general would be a-shoutin': 'Make dem shucks fly, make dem shucks +fly, us is gwine to go home.' Over and over dey kept on singin' dem +lines. Come nighttime Marster would have big bonfires built up and set +out torches for 'em to see how to wuk, and evvy time he passed 'round +dat jug of corn likker shucks would fly some faster. When all de corn +was done shucked and de big supper had been et, dere was wrastlin' +matches and dancin' and all sorts of frolickin'. + +"'Til dey could git a colored preacher, slaves had to go to church wid +deir white folks. Missy, I 'members yit, de fust preacher I ever heared. +He was a white man, Preacher Gibson dey called him, and his sermons made +you mind what you was 'bout 'cause he preached straight from de Bible. +Dat day when I fust heared him his text was: 'If you gits lost in sin, +den you is lost from God's word, and will have to be borned again.' +Dat's de trufe, Missy, it sho' is. Young folks dese days is headed plumb +straight for 'struction, 'cause dey won't listen to de Gospel. If dey +don't change from de way dey is goin' now de old debbil is gwine to +ketch 'em sho. All of us had better mind what us is 'bout, for 'ligion +most times now is by our own minds and thoughts, and somebody else is +apt to follow de 'ligion he sees in us. De Bible says to teach young +folks de way dey should go, and dey won't depart from deir raisin'. You +sho' can't raise 'em right by jus' teachin' 'em dese days; it evermore +do take plenty of layin' on of dat rod. I would jus' lak to see how dese +young folks would lak it if dey had to ride for miles and miles in a +oxcart, or else walk it, to git to 'tend church. Dere wouldn't be many +of de ones I knows 'round here would git dar. Us used to have four +steers hitched to our old cart, and it was slow-goin', but us got dar. + +"Atter us got our own churches us still had to have white preachers for +a long time and den us was 'lowed to have colored preachers. When +somebody wanted to jine our church us 'zamined 'em, and if us didn't +think dey was done ready to be tuk in de church, dey was told to wait +and pray 'til dey had done seed de light. Anybody can jine up wid de +church now, Missy, and it ain't right de way dey lets 'em come in widout +'zaminin' 'em. De good Lord sho' don't lak dat way of handlin' His +church business. One of dem cand-i-dates was a mean Nigger and our +preacher and deacons wouldn't let him in our church. Den he went over to +another church and told 'em dat he had talked wid de Lord 'bout how us +wouldn't let him jine up wid us, and he 'lowed dat de Lord said to him: +'Dat's all right. I done been tryin' to jine up in dat church for 15 +years myself, and can't git in, so you go on and jine another church.' +Dat other church let dat bad Nigger in and it warn't long 'fore dey had +to turn him out, 'cause he warn't fittin' to be in no church. + +"Our preacher used to give us parables. One of 'em was lak dis: 'I'se +seed good cotton growin' in de grass.' He 'splained it dat dere was some +good in de wust sinners. Another of his parables was: 'If you can't keep +up wid de man at de foot, how is you gwine to keep up wid de higher-up +folks?' Dat meant if you can't sarve God here below, how is you gwine to +git along wid him if you gits to Heben? Our preacher told us to sarve +both our marsters. De fust Marster was God, he said, and de other one +was our white marster. + +"I ain't never been inside no courtroom and don't never 'spect to be +dar, 'cause, missy, I don't mind nobody's business but my own, and dat's +all I can do. + +"No Mam, I don't never git much sick. I had a bad old haid cold last +winter, but I stopped dat wid coal oil and by breathin' in smoke from +scorched leather. Light'ood splinter tea is helpful when I has a chist +cold. Salts ain't de best thing for old folks to be doctored wid. I +takes common cookin' soda sweetened wid a little sugar. Dem is old-time +doses from way back in de old days, and I still use 'em all. + +"Durin' of de war time, soda and salt was both hard to git. Dey biled +down de dirt from under old smokehouses to git salt, and soda was made +out of burnt corncobs. You would be s'prised to see what good cookin' +could be done wid dat old corncob soda. + +"Us wukked for Mr. Green Hubbard de fust year us left de old plantation, +but he wouldn't pay us so us left him and rented some land to farm. Den +I went to wuk for Mr. Stephens and stayed wid him 25 years. He was one +of de owners of de Georgy Railroad and I used to drive for him when he +went to 'Gusty (Augusta) to dem board meetin's. He had one of dem +old-time gins what run by mule power, and us sho' did gin a heap of +cotton. Lots of times he had us to haul it all de way to 'Gusty on dem +wagons. Mr. Stephens' place was at Crawford, Georgy. + +"Me and my gal runned away to git married. If you please, Mam, come +inside and look at her pitcher. Ain't she a fine lookin' gal? Well, she +was jus' as good as she looks. I keeps her pitcher hangin' right over my +bed so as I can look at her all de time." The small room was tidy and +clean. In one corner a narrow, single bed, neatly made, stood beneath +the picture of Benny's wife, Mary. The picture showed a young woman +dressed in white in the style of the period when tight waists and +enormous puffed sleeves were in vogue. An old washstand supporting a +huge mirror, a small table, evidently used as a dining table, two +chairs, a small cupboard filled with dishes, and a small, wood-burning +stove completed the furnishings of the room. Back on the porch again, +Benny resumed the story of his marriage. + +"Her daddy wouldn't 'gree for us to git married 'cause he wanted her to +stay on and wuk for him. She warn't but seventeen. My boss-man let us +use his hoss and buggy and, Missy, dat fast hoss is what saved de day +for us. When I got to whar I was to meet her, I seed her runnin' down de +road wid her daddy atter her fast as he could go on foot. I snatched her +up in dat buggy and it seemed lak dat hoss knowed us was in a hurry +'cause he sho' did run. Squire Jimmie Green married us and when us got +back to my boss-man's house her daddy had done got dar and was a-raisin' +cane. Boss Stephens, he come out and told her daddy to git on 'way from +dar and let us 'lone, 'cause us was done married and dere warn't nothin' +could be done 'bout it. Us had a hard time gittin' started housekeepin', +'cause my daddy couldn't holp us none. Our bed was one of dem home-made +ones nailed to de side of de house. Us lived together 43 years 'fore de +Lord tuk her home to Heben 15 years ago. Dem 43 years was all of 'em +happy years. Since she's been gone I'se mighty lonesome, but it won't be +long now 'til I see her, for I'se ready to go whenever de Good Lord +calls me." + + + + +[HW: Atlanta +Dist. 5 +Driskell] + +THE EXPERIENCE OF GEORGE EASON IN SLAVERY TIME +[MAY 8 1937] + + +Mr. George Eason was born in Forsyth, Ga., on the plantation of Mr. Jack +Ormond. In addition to himself there were six other children, one of +whom was his twin brother. He and his brother were the oldest members of +this group of children. His mother, who was the master's cook, had +always belonged to the Ormond family while his father belonged to +another family, having been sold while he (George) was still a baby. + +It so happened that Mr. Ormond was a wealthy planter and in addition to +the plantation that he owned in the country, he also maintained a large +mansion in the town. + +The first few years of his life were spent in town where he helped his +mother in the kitchen by attending to the fire, getting water, etc. He +was also required to look after the master's horse. Unlike most other +slave owners who allowed their house servants to sleep in the mansion, +Mr. Ormond had several cabins built a short distance in the rear of his +house to accommodate those who were employed in the house. This house +group consisted of the cook, seamstress, maid, butler, and the wash +woman. Mr. Eason and those persons who held the above positions always +had good food because they got practically the same thing that was +served to the master and his family. They all had good clothing--the +women's dresses being made of calico, and the butler's suits of good +grade cloth, the particular kind of which Mr. Eason knows nothing about. +He himself wore a one-piece garment made of crocus. + +Mr. Eason was about 7 or 8 years of age when he was first sent to work +in the field. It was then that his troubles began. He says that he was +made to get up each morning at sun-up and that after going to the field +he had to toil there all day until the sun went down. He and his fellow +slaves had to work in all types of weather, good as well as bad. +Although the master or the overseer were not as cruel as some he had +heard of they tolerated no looseness of work and in case a person was +suspected of loafing the whip was applied freely. Although he was never +whipped, he has heard the whip being applied to his mother any number of +times. It hurt him, he says, because he had to stand back unable to +render any assistance whatever. (This happened before he was sent to the +plantation.) When his mother got these whippings she always ran off +afterwards and hid in the woods which were nearby. At night she would +slip to the cabin to get food and while there would caution him and the +other children not to tell the master that they had seen her. The +master's wife who was very mean was always the cause of her receiving +these lashings. + +Some nights after he and the other slaves had left the field they were +required to do extra work such as ginning cotton and shelling peas and +corn, etc. The young women were required to work that in some respects +was as hard as that the men did, while the older women usually did +lighter work. When the time came to pick the cotton all hands were +converted into pickers. Night was the only time that they had to do +their washing and to cultivate the small gardens they were allowed to +have. + +During the months when there was little field work to do they were kept +busy repairing fences, etc. on the farm. Every day was considered a +working day except Sunday, Thanksgiving and Christmas. They were not +allowed to celebrate on these days as were the slaves on other nearby +plantations. + +Clothing on the Ormond plantation was usually insufficient to satisfy +the needs of the slave. Each year one issue was given each slave. For +the men this issue consisted of 1 pair of brogan shoes, several homespun +shirts, a few pairs of knitted socks, and two or three pairs of pants. +The brogans were made of such hard leather until the wearers' feet were +usually blistered before the shoes were "broken in." The women, in +addition to a pair of shoes and some cotton stockings were given several +homespun dresses. On one occasion Mr. Eason says that he wore his shoes +out before time for an issue of clothing. It was so cold until the skin +on his feet cracked, causing the blood to flow. In spite of this his +master would give him no more shoes. All clothing was made on the +plantation except the shoes. + +Those women who were too old for field work did the sewing in addition +to other duties to be described later. + +Indigo was cultivated for dyeing purposes and in some instances a dye +was made by boiling walnut leaves and walnut hulls in water. In addition +to her duties as cook, Mr. Eason's mother had to also weave part of the +cloth. He told of how he had to sit up at night and help her and how she +would "crack" him on the head for being too slow at times. + +The amount of food given each slave was also inadequate as a general +rule. At the end of each week they all went to a certain spot on the +plantation where each was given 1 peck of meal, 1 gal. of syrup, and 3 +pounds of meat. They often suffered from that particular stomach ailment +commonly known as hunger. At such times raids were made on the +smokehouse. This was considered as stealing by the master and the +overseer but to them it was merely taking that which they had worked +for. At other times they increased their food by hunting and fishing. +Possums and coons were the usual game from such a hunting expedition. +All meals usually consisted of grits, bacon, syrup, corn bread and +vegetables. On Sundays and holidays the meals varied to the extent that +they were allowed to have biscuits which they called "cake bread." The +slaves made coffee by parching corn meal, okra seed or Irish potatoes. +When sufficiently parched any one of the above named would make a vile +type of coffee. Syrup was used for all sweetening purposes. The produce +from the gardens which the master allowed them could only be used for +home consumption and under no circumstances could any of it be sold. + +The cabins that the slaves occupied were located on one section of the +plantation known as the "quarters." These dwellings were crude +one-roomed structures usually made from logs. In order to keep the +weather out mud was used to close the openings between the logs. In +most instances the furnishing of a cabin was complete after a bed, a +bench (both of which were made by the slave) and a few cooking utensils +had been placed in it. As there were no stoves for slave use all cooking +was done at the fireplace, which, like the chimney, was made of mud and +stones. One or two openings served the purpose of windows, and shutters +were used instead of glass. The mattresses on which they slept were made +from hay, grass or straw. When a light was needed a tallow candle or a +pine knot was lighted. + +Absolute cleanliness was required at all times and the floors, if they +were made of wood, had to be swept and scrubbed often. In addition to +the private dwellings there was one large house where all children not +old enough to go to the field were kept. One or two of the older women +took charge of them, seeing that they had a sufficient amount of corn +bread, vegetables and milk each day. All were fed from a trough like +little pigs. + +These old women were also responsible for the care of the sick. When +asked if a doctor was employed, Mr. Eason replied that one had to be +mighty sick to have the services of a doctor. The usual treatment for +sick slaves was castor oil, which was given in large doses, salts and a +type of pill known as "hippocat." (ipecac) + +Although they were not permitted any formal type of learning religious +worship it was not denied them. Each Sunday Mr. Ormond required that all +his slaves attend church. All went to the white church where they sat in +back and listened to the sermon of a white preacher. Mr. Eason says that +the slaves believed in all kinds of and every conceivable type of signs. +Their superstitions usually had to do with methods of conjure. + +A preacher was never used to perform a wedding ceremony on the Ormond +plantation. After the man told the master about the woman of his choice +and she had been called and had agreed to the plan, all that was +necessary was for the couple to join hands and jump over a broom which +had been placed on the ground. + +Mr. Ormond permitted few if any celebrations or frolics to take place on +his farm. When he did grant this privilege his slaves were permitted to +invite their friends who of course had to get a "pass" from their +respective masters. They, too, were required to secure a pass from Mr. +Ormond if they wanted to visit off the premises. If caught by the +"Paddle Rollers" (Patrollers) without this pass they were soundly +whipped and then taken to their master. + +At the beginning of the Civil War all the slaves talked among themselves +concerning the possible outcome of the war. However, they never let the +master or the overseer hear them because it meant a whipping. + +When Sherman and his army marched through they burned all the gin houses +on the Ormond plantation and took all the available live stock. Mr. +Ormond took a few prized possessions and a few slaves (one of whom was +Mr. Eason) and fled to Augusta, Ga. + +After freedom was declared he was still held in bondage and hired out by +the day. Once he ran away but was found and brought back. In 1867 the +remaining members of the Ormond family moved to Atlanta, bringing him +along with them. After most of them had died he was finally permitted to +go or stay as he pleased. + +Immediately after freedom had been declared he had the good fortune to +find his father. However, he never got a chance to spend any time with +him as the Ormonds refused to release him. + +Says Mr. Eason: "Slavery had a good point in that we slaves always felt +that somebody was going to take care of us." He says that he has heard +some wish for the good old days but as for himself he prefers things to +remain as they are at present. + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE + +CALLIE ELDER, Age 78 +640 W. Hancock Avenue +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 +[JUN 6 1938] + + +Callie lives with her daughter, Cornelia, in a 6-room house near the +crest of a hill. Their abode is a short distance from the street and is +reached by steep stone steps. In response to the call for Callie, a tall +mulatto woman appeared. Her crudely fashioned blue dress was of a coarse +cotton fabric and her dingy head rag had long lost its original color. +Straight black hair, streaked with gray, and high cheek bones gave the +impression that in her ancestry of mixed races, Indian characteristics +predominate. Her constant use of snuff causes frequent expectoration and +her favorite pastime seems to be the endeavor to attain an incredible +degree of accuracy in landing each mouthful of the amber fluid at the +greatest possible distance. As she was about to begin conversation, a +little yellow boy about five years old ran into the room and Callie +said: "'Scuse me please, I can't talk 'til I gits my grandboy off so he +won't be late to school at Little Knox. Set down in dat dar cheer and +I'll be right back." + +Soon Callie returned and it was evident that her curiosity was aroused. +When the interviewer explained the purpose of the visit, she exclaimed: +"Lordy! Miss, what is de government gwine do next? For de God's truth, I +never knowed I would have to tell nobody what happened back in dem days, +so its jus' done slipped out of my mind. + +"Anyhow, I warn't even born in Clarke County. I was born in Floyd +County, up nigh Rome, Georgia, on Marse Billy Neal's plantation. Ann and +Washin'ton Neal was my Mammy and Pappy. No Ma'am, no preacher never +married 'em. Marse Billy Neal, he owned bofe of 'em and atter my Pappy +axed him could he marry Mammy, Marse Billy made 'em go up to de hall of +de big house and jump backwards over a broom. + +"Dere was six of us chillun: me and Frances, Beulah, Thomas, Felix, and +Scott. Dere was mighty little wuk done by chillun in slav'ry days. I +jus' played 'round and kicked up my heels wid de rest of de chillun. +When us played our hidin' game, us sung somepin' lak dis: + + 'Mollie, Mollie Bright + Three score and ten, + Can I git dere by candlelight? + Yes, if your laigs is long enough!' + +"Sometimes us played what us called de 'Crow' game. Us spread our +fingers out, side by side and counted 'em out wid a rhyme. De one de +last word of de rhyme fell on had to be de crow. I didn't love to be +counted out and made de crow, but it was a heap of fun to count de +others out. Since I been knee high to a grasshopper, I ain't never done +nothin' but wuk 'round white folks' houses. + +"Our log cabins what us lived in was daubed inside and out wid mud to +keep out bad weather. Our beds was held together by cords what was +twisted evvy which way. You had to be mighty careful tightenin' dem +cords or de beds was liable to fall down. Us slept on wheat straw +mattresses and had plenty of good warm quilts for kiver. + +"Grown folks was fed cornbread and meat wid plenty of vegetables in de +week days and on Sunday mornin's dey give 'em wheat bread, what was +somethin' slaves didn't see no more 'til de next Sunday mornin'. 'Bout +four o'clock on summer atternoons, dey sot a big old wooden bowl full of +cornbread crumbs out in de yard and poured in buttermilk or potliquor +'til de crumbs was kivered. Den dey let de chillun gather 'round it and +eat 'til de bowl was empty. In winter chillun was fed inside de house. + +"'Possums, Oh, mussy me! My grandpa hunted 'possums at night and fetched +in two and three at a time. Don't say nothin' 'bout dem rabbits for dere +warn't no end to 'em. Rabbits stewed, rabbits fried, and rabbits dried, +smoked, and cured lak hog meat! I et so many rabbits when I was young I +can't stand to look at 'em now but I could eat 'possums and gnaw de +bones all day long. Marse Billy let grandpa go fishin' and he was all +time bringin' back a passel of minnows and other fishes. Us rubbed 'em +down wid lard and salt and pepper, den rolled 'em in cornmeal and baked +'em. I never seed no fried meat 'til I was a big strappin' gal. Dere was +one big gyarden whar dey raised 'nough vegetables for all de white folks +and slaves too. All de bilin' was done in pots swung on cranes over +coals in de fireplace. + +"Our clothes was made new for us in de fall out of cloth wove in looms +right dar on de plantation. Top clothes was dyed wid hick'ry bark. De +full skirts was gathered to tight fittin' waisties. Underskirts was made +de same way. De dresses had done wore thin 'nough for hot weather by de +time winter was gone so us wore dem same clothes straight on through de +summer, only us left off de underskirts den. Slave chillun didn't never +wear no shoes. Our foots cracked open 'til dey looked lak goose foots. +Us wore de same on Sunday as evvy day, 'cept dat our clothes was clean, +and stiff wid meal starch when us got into 'em on Sunday mornin's. + +"Marse Billie Neal was our owner and Miss Peggy was his old 'oman. Dey +was jus' as good to us as dey could be. Deir two chillun was Marse Tom +and Marse Mid. De car'iage driver never had much to do but drive Marse +Billy and Miss Peggy 'round and, course he had to see dat de hosses and +car'iage was kept clean and shiny. I don't 'member if he tuk de chillun +'round. Chillun didn't stand de show dey does now. + +"Oh, no Ma'am, I sho' can't tell nothin' t'all 'bout how big dat old +plantation was, but it was one whoppin' big place. Dere was too many +slaves on dat plantation for me to count. De overseer got 'em up by 4:00 +o'clock and de mens had to be in de fields by sunrise. De 'omans went +out 'bout 8:00 o'clock. Dey stopped wuk at sundown and by de time dey et +and done de chores for de day it was 10:00 o'clock 'fore dey hit de bed. +De cabins was built in a circle and de overseer went de rounds evvy +night to see if de slaves was in bed. + +"Yes Ma'am, dey whupped de Niggers. My Pappy and grandpa was de wust +ones 'bout gittin' licked. Evvy time Pappy runned away Marse Billy +sicked dem hounds on his heels and dey was sho' to ketch him and fetch +him back. Dey had to keep knives from Pappy or when dem dogs cotch him +he would jus' cut 'em up so dey would die. When dey got him back to de +house, dey would buckle him down over a barrel and larrup him wid a +plaited whup. 'Omans warn't whupped much. My grandpa York was so bad +'bout runnin' 'way Marse Billy made him wear long old horns. One Sunday +Marse Billy went by our church to see if all his Niggers was dar what +was sposen to be dar. And dere grandpa was a-sottin' wid dem horns on +his head. Marse Billy told him he could take de horns off his head +whilst he was in de meetin' house. At dat grandpa dropped dem horns, and +lit a rag to de woods and it tuk de dogs days to find him. + +"If one slave kilt another, Marse Billy made de overseer tie dat dead +Nigger to de one what kilt him, and de killer had to drag de corpse +'round 'til he died too. De murderers never lived long a-draggin' dem +daid ones 'round. Dat jus' pyorely skeered 'em to death. Dere was a +guard house on de farm, whar de wust Niggers was kept, and while dey was +in dat guard house, dey warn't fed but once a day. It warn't nothin' +unusual for Marse Billy to sell slaves, but he never sold his best +Niggers. De ones he sold was allus dem he couldn't git no wuk out of. + +"Not a Nigger could read or write on Marse Billy's plantation. Dey was +all too dumb to larn. Dere was a shackly sort of church house on our +plantation and on Sundays atter de Niggers had cleaned deyselfs up, if +dey told Marse Billy dey wanted to go to church, he sent 'em on. All I +knows 'bout baptizin's is dey jus' tuk 'em to de river and plunged 'em +in. Dey sung somepin' 'bout: 'Gwine to de River for to be Baptized.' Us +had prayer meetin's on Wednesday nights sometimes. + +"Oh, Mussy! Don't ax me 'bout fun'rals. I got de misery in my laigs and +I feels too bad dis mornin' to let myself even think 'bout fun'rals. +Back den when slave folks died dey jus' put 'em in home-made pine +coffins what dey throwed in a wagon and tuk 'em to de graveyard. At dem +buryin's, dey used to sing: + + 'Am I born to die + To let dis body down.' + +"None of our Niggers ever runned away to de North. Dey was too busy +runnin' off to de woods. Jus' to tell de truth dem Niggers on our place +was so dumb dey didn't even take in 'bout no North. Dey didn't even know +what de war was 'bout 'til it was all over. I don't know whar to start +'bout dem patterollers. Dey was de devil turned a-loose. Dere was a song +'bout 'Run Nigger run, de patteroller git you!' and dey sho' would too, +I want to tell you. + +"What de slaves done on Saddy night? Dey done anything dey was big +'nough to do. Dere warn't no frolickin' 'cept on Sadday night. Niggers +on our place wukked all day Sadday 'cept once a month. Some of de slaves +would slip off and stay half a day and de overseer wouldn't miss 'em +'cause dere was so many in de field. It was jus' too bad for any Nigger +what got cotched at dat trick. Sadday night, slaves was 'lowed to git +together and frolic and cut de buck. + +"Christmas Day Marse Billy called us to de big house and give us a +little fresh meat and sweet bread, dat was cake. Christmas warn't much +diff'unt f'um other times. Jus' more t'eat. Us jus' had dat one day off, +and New Year's Day was used as a holiday too. + +"Oh, dem cornshuckin's! All day 'fore a cornshuckin' dey hauled corn and +put it in great piles as high as dis here house. Us sung all de time us +was shuckin' corn. Dere was a lot of dem old shuckin' songs. De one us +sung most was: 'Whooper John and Calline all night.' Marse Billy, he +give 'em coffee and whiskey all night and dat made 'em git rough and +rowdy. Den de shucks did fly. Us had one more grand feast when de last +ear of corn had done been shucked. Dere warn't nothin' lackin'. + +"Cotton pickin's warn't planned for fun and frolic lak cornshuckin's. If +Marse Billy got behind in his crops, he jus' sent us back to de fields +at night when de moon was bright and sometimes us picked cotton all +night long. Marster give de 'oman what picked de most cotton a day off, +and de man what picked de most had de same privilege. + +"Old Aunt Martha what nussed de chillun while deir Mammies wukked in de +field was de quiltin' manager. It warn't nothin' for 'omans to quilt +three quilts in one night. Dem quilts had to be finished 'fore dey +stopped t'eat a bit of de quiltin' feast. Marse Billy 'vided dem quilts +out 'mongst de Niggers what needed 'em most. + +"Dem blue and white beads what de grown 'omans wore was jus' to look +pretty. Dey never meant nothin' else. Mammy would skeer us down 'bout +Rawhead and Bloody Bones. Us was all time a-lookin' for him, but he +never got dar. What skeered us most was painters (panthers) a-howlin' +close to our cabins at night. You could hear 'em most any night. When +Mammy wanted to make us behave all she had to say was: 'I hears dem +painters comin'!' Dat made us jus' shake all over and git mighty still +and quiet. De mens tried to run dem painters down, but dey never did +ketch one. + +"One of de cabins was allus ha'nted atter some of de slaves got kilt in +it whilst dey was fightin'. Nobody never could live in dat cabin no more +atter dat widout ha'nts gittin' atter 'em. De wust of 'em was a 'oman +ha'nt what you could hear sweepin' up leaves in de yard and all dat time +you might be lookin' hard and not see a leaf move. In dat cabin you +could all time hear ha'nts movin' cheers and knockin' on de wall. Some +of dem ha'nts would p'int a gun in your face if you met 'em in de dark. +Dem ha'nts was too much for me. + +"Our white folks was good as dey knowed how to be when us got sick. I +don't 'member dat dey ever had a doctor for de slaves, but dey give us +all kinds of home-brewed teas. Pinetops, mullein and fat light'ood +splinters was biled together and de tea was our cure for diff'unt +ailments. Scurvy grass tea mixed wid honey was good for stomach +troubles, but you sho' couldn't take much of it at a time. It was de +movin'est medicine! Round our necks us wore asafetida sacks tied on +strings soaked in turpentine. Dat was to keep diseases off of us. + +"What does I 'member 'bout de war? Well, it was fit to fetch our +freedom. Marse Billy had a fine stallion. When de sojers was comin', he +sont Pappy to de woods wid dat stallion and some gold and told him not +to let dem yankees find 'em. Dat stallion kept squealin' 'til de yankees +found him, and dey tuk him and de gold too. Grandma was a churnin' away +out on de back porch and she had a ten dollar gold piece what she didn't +want dem sojers to steal, so she drapped it in de churn. Dem yankees +poured dat buttermilk out right dar on de porch floor and got grandma's +money. Marse Billy hid hisself in a den wid some more money and other +things and dey didn't find him. Dey tuk what dey wanted of what dey +found and give de rest to de slaves. Atter de sojers left, de Niggers +give it all back to Marster 'cause he had allus been so good to 'em. + +"Us stayed on wid Marse Billy for sev'ral years atter de war. He paid us +$10 a month and he 'lowanced out de rations to us evvy week; most allus +on Monday 'cause Sundays us had 'nough company to eat it all at one +time. He give us three pounds of fat meat, a peck of meal, a peck of +flour, 25c worth of sugar, and a pound of coffee. Dat had to last a +whole week. + +"I didn't take in nothin' 'bout Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis and dat +dar Booker T. Washin'ton man, but I heared folks say dey was all right. + +"What is you talkin' 'bout Miss? I didn't need to have no big weddin' +when I married Lige Elder. It was a big 'nough thing to git a man lak +what I got. What did I want to have a big weddin' for when all I was +atter was my man? Us had done been married 25 years 'fore us had no +chillun. Dis here Cornelia what I lives wid was our first chile. She +ain't got no chillun. Isaac, my boy, has got four chillun. My old man +died 'bout two years ago. + +"I j'ined de church 'cause I was happy and wanted de world to know I had +done got 'ligion. I think evvybody ought to git 'ligion. God says if us +do right he will give us all a home in His Heaven. + +"I'd rather have de days as dey is now in some ways. But one thing I +does lak to do is eat and us had a plenty of good eatin' den and never +had to worry none 'bout whar it was a-comin' f'um. Miss, ain't you +through axin' me questions yet? I'm tired of talkin'. I done let de fire +go out under my washpot twice. Dem white folks ain't gwine to lak it if +dey has to wait for deir clothes, and dis misery in my laigs, it sho' +does hurt me bad dis mornin'." + + + + +MARTHA EVERETTE, EX-SLAVE +Hawkinsville, Georgia + +(Interviewed By Elizabeth Watson--1936) +[JUL 20 1937] + + +Born in Pulaski County about 1848, the daughter of Isaac and Amanda +Lathrop, Martha Everette has lived all her life near where she was born. + +Prior to freedom, her first job was "toting in wood", from which she was +soon "promoted" to waiting on the table, house cleaning, etc. She make +no claims to have ever "graduated" as a cook, as so many old +before-the-war Negresses do. + +"Aunt" Martha's owner was a kind man: he never whipped the slaves, but +the overseer "burnt 'em up sometimes." And her mother was a "whipper, +too"--a woman that "fanned" her children religiously, so to speak, not +overlooking Martha. All the Watson slaves attended the (White) Baptist +church at Blue Springs. + +Rations were distributed on Sunday morning of each week, and the slaves +had plenty to eat. The slaves were also allowed to fish, thus often +adding variety to their regular fare. + +Negro women were taught to sew by the overseers' wives, and most of the +slaves' clothes were made from cloth woven on the plantation. The +Yankees visited the Lathrop plantation in '65, asked for food, received +it, and marched on without molesting anything or any body. Truly, these +were well-behaved Yankees! + +"Aunt" Martha says that she remembers quite well when the Yankees +captured Jefferson Davis. She and other slave children were in the "big +house" yard when they heard drums beating, and soon saw the Yankees pass +with Mr. Davis. + +"Aunt" Martha, now old and decrepit, lives with one of her sons, who +takes care of her. This son is a gardener and a carpenter and, being +thrifty, fares much better than many Negroes of his generation. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 5 +Ex-Slave #30] +By E. Driskell +Typed by A.M. Whitley +1-29-37 + +FIRST COPY OF ARTICLE ENTITLED: +"AN INTERVIEW WITH LEWIS FAVOR," EX-SLAVE +[MAY 8 1937] + +[TR: informant also referred to as Favors in this document.] + + +Among Atlanta's few remaining ex-slaves is one Lewis Favors. When he +fully understood this worker's reasons for approaching him he consented +to tell what he had seen and experienced as a slave. Chewing slowly on a +large wad of tobacco he began his account in the following manner: "I +was born in Merriweather County in 1855 near the present location of +Greenville, Georgia. Besides my mother there were eight of us children +and I was elder than all of them with one exception. Our owner was Mrs. +Favors, but she was known to everybody as the "Widow Favors." My father +was owned by a Mr. Darden who had a plantation in this same county. When +the "Widow's" husband died he left her about one-hundred acres of land +and a large sum of money and so she was considered as being rich. She +didn't have many slaves of her own and so her son (also a plantation +owner) used to send some of his slaves over occasionally to help +cultivate her crops, which consisted of cotton, corn, and all kinds of +vegetables." + +In regard to her treatment of the slaves that she held Mr. Favors says: +"She wasn't so tight and then she was pretty tight too." + +Those slaves who were field hands were in the field and at work by the +time it was light enough to see. They plowed, hoed, and then later in +the season gathered the crops. After the harvesting was over the fences +were repaired and rails were split. In rainy weather nobody had to work +out of doors, instead they shelled the peas and corn and sometimes +ginned the cotton. At night the women were required to spin and to +weave. In the winter season no work was required at night unless they +had not spun as much thread as was required. At such times they had to +work at night until the amount set had been reached. + +Mr. Favor's mother was the cook for the "Widow Favors" and her two +neices who lived with her. The Favors had paid the owner of a hotel Four +hundred dollars to have the hotel cook teach her (Mr. Favors mother) to +prepare all kinds of fancy dishes. His father was a field hand on the +Darden plantation. In addition to this he repaired all the shoes when +this was necessary. + +As a child Mr. Favors was not very strong physically and because of this +the "Widow" made him her pet. He never had to do any work other than +that of waiting on the mistress while she ate her meals. Even in this he +had to get up at four o'clock in the morning and help his mother in the +kitchen. Sometimes he would sweep the yards if he felt like doing so. +When he grew older he was given the task of picking the seed out of the +cotton at night. + +On Sundays all the servants were free to do as they pleased, that is, +with the exception of Mr. Favors, his mother, and the two women who +serve as maids to the "Widow's" two neices. At other times if a task was +done before the day was over with they were given the remaining time to +do as they pleased. However, everybody had a one week holiday at +Christmas. + +Mr. Favors made the following statement in regard to the clothing: +"Everybody wore the homespun cotton clothes that were made on the +plantation by the slave women. The women wore striped ausenberg dresses +while the men wore ausenberg pants and shirts that had been made into +one garment. My clothes were always better than the other little +fellows, who ran around in their shirttails because I was always in the +house of the "Widow." They used red clay to do the dyeing with. In the +winter time cracked feet were common. The grown people wore heavy shoes +called brogans while I wore the cast-off shoes of the white ladies. We +all wrapped our feet in bagging sacks to help them to keep warm. We +were given one complete outfit of clothes each year and these had to +last until the time for the next issue." + +Sheets for the beds were also made out of homespun material while the +heavier cover such as the quilts, etc., were made from the dresses and +the other clothing that was no longer fit for wear. + +As a general rule all of the slaves on this plantation had enough food +to keep them well and healthy. At the end of each week the field hands +were given enough food to last them seven days. For most of them the +week's supply consisted of three and one-half pounds of pork or fat +meat, one peck of meal, flour, and black molasses. The only meals that +they had to prepare from the above mentioned articles were breakfast and +supper. Dinner was cooked in the plantation kitchen by one of the women +who was too old for work in the fields. For this particular meal the +slaves had some different type of vegetable each day along with the fat +meat, corn bread, and the pot liquor which was served every day. They +were allowed to come in from the fields to the house to be served. +Breakfast usually consisted of fat meat, molasses, and corn bread while +supper consisted of pot-liquor, bread, and milk. The only variation from +this diet was on Sunday when all were allowed to have bisquits instead +of corn bread. Mr. Favors was asked what happened if anyone's food was +all eaten before it was time for the weekly issue and he answered: "It +was just too bad for them 'cause they would have to do the best they +could until the time came to get more." When such a thing happened to +anyone the others usually helped as far as their limited supplies would +permit. + +Mr. Favors says that he, his mother, and the two maids ate the same kind +of food that the "Widow," and her nieces were served. After he had seen +to the wants of all at the table he had to take a seat at the table +beside his owner where he ate with her and the others seated there. + +There were two one-roomed cabins located directly behind the four-roomed +house of the "Widow," the entire lot of them were built out of logs. +These two cabins were for the use of those servants who worked in the +house of their owner. At one end of each cabin there was a wide +fireplace which was made of sticks, stones, and dried mud. Instead of +windows there were only one or two small holes cut in the back wall of +the cabin. The beds were made out of heavy planks and were called +"Georgia Looms," by the slaves. Wooden slats were used in the place of +bed springs while the mattresses were merely large bags that had been +stuffed to capacity with hay, wheat straw, or leaves. The only other +furnishings in each of these cabins were several benches and a few +cooking utensils. Mr. Favors says: "We didn't have plank floors like +these on some of the other plantations; the plain bare ground served as +our floor." As he made this statement he reminded this worker that he +meant his mother and some of the other house servants lived in these +cabins. He himself always lived in the house with the "Widow Favors," +who had provided a comfortable bed along with a small chair for his use. +These slaves who worked in the fields lived in several cabins that were +somewhat nearer to their fields than the other two cabins mentioned +above. + +The remaining buildings on the Favors' plantation were the smokehouse +and the cook house where in addition to the cooking the younger children +were cared for by another old person. The woman who cared for these +children had to also help with the cooking. + +Whenever any of the slaves were sick the doctor was called if +conditions warranted it, otherwise a dose of castor oil was prescribed. +Mr. Favors stated that after freedom was declared the white people for +whom they worked gave them hog-feet oil and sometimes beef-oil both of +which had the same effect as castor oil. If any were too ill to work in +the field one of the others was required to remain at the cabin or at +some other convenient place so as to be able to attend to the wants of +these so indisposed. + +When Mr. Favors was asked if the servants on this plantation ever had +the chance to learn how to read or to write he answered: "They was all +afraid to even try because they would cut these off," and he held up his +right hand and pointed to his thumb and forefinger. At any rate the +"Widow," nieces taught him to read a few months before the slaves were +set free. + +On Sunday all were required to attend the white church in town. They sat +in the back of the church as the white minister preached and directed +the following text at them: "Don't steal your master's chickens or his +eggs and your backs won't be whipped." In the afternoon of this same day +when the colored minister was allowed to preach the slaves heard this +text: "Obey your masters and your mistresses and your backs won't be +whipped." All of the marriages ware performed by the colored preacher +who read a text from the Bible and then pronounced the couple being +married as man and wife. + +Although nobody was ever sold on the Favors plantation Mr. Favors has +witnessed the selling of others on the auction block. He says that the +block resembled a flight of steps. The young children and those women +who had babies too young to be separated from them were placed on the +bottom step, those in their early teens on the next, the young men and +women on the next, and the middle-aged and old ones on the last one. +Prices decreased as the auctioneer went from the bottom step to the top +one, that is, the younger a slave was the more money he brought if he +was sold. + +Sometimes there were slaves who were punished by the overseer because +they had broken some rule. Mr. Favors says that at such times a cowhide +whip was used and the number of lashes that the overseer gave depended +on the slave owner's instructions. He has seen others whipped and at +such times he began praying. The only punishment that he ever received +was as a little boy and then a switch was used instead of the whip. If +the "Patter-Roller" caught a slave out in the streets without a pass +from his master they proceeded to give the luckless fellow five lashes +with a whip called the cat-o-nine-tails. They gave six lashes if the +slave was caught out at night regardless of whether he had a pass or +not. + +As none of the slaves held by the "Widow" or her son ever attempted to +run away there was no punishment for this. However, he has heard that on +other plantations blood hounds were used to trail those who ran away and +if they were caught a severe beating was administered. + +Sometime after the civil war had begun the "Widow Favors" packed as many +of her belongings as possible and fled to LaGrange, Georgia. He and his +mother along with several other slaves (one of whom was an old man) were +taken along. He never heard any of the white people say anything about +the war or its possible results. At one time a battle was being fought a +few miles distant and they all saw the cannon balls fall on the +plantation. This was when the journey to LaGrange was decided upon. +Before leaving the "Widow" had the slaves to bury all the meat, flour, +and other food on the plantation so that the Yankee soldiers would not +get it. Mr. Favors was given about two thousand dollars in gold currency +to keep and protect for his owner. At various intervals he had to take +this money to the "Widow". so that she might count it. Another one of +the slaves was given the son's gold watch to keep on his person until +the Yanks left the vicinity. + +Before freedom was declared Mr. Favors says that he prayed all of the +time because he never wanted to be whipped with the cowhide, like others +he had seen. Further he says that it was a happy day for him when he was +told that he could do as he pleased because he realized then that he +could do some of the things that he had always wanted to do. + +When freedom was declared for the slaves the Favors family freed slaves +valued at one-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The live stock that +they sold represented a like sum. Mr. Favors and his mother remained +with the "Widow," who gave him his board in return for his services and +paid his mother twenty-five dollars per year for hers as cook. + +"Even after the war things were pretty tough for us" stated Mr. Favors. +"The plantation owners refused to pay more than thirty or forty cents to +a person for a days work in the fields. Some of them would not allow an +ex-slave to walk in the streets in front of their homes but made them +take to the out-of-the-way paths through the woods to reach their +various destinations. At other times white men cut the clothes from the +backs of the ex-slaves when they were well dressed. If they didn't beg +hard enough when thus accosted they might even be cut to death!" After +the first three years following the war conditions were somewhat better, +he continued. + +Mr. Favors says that his old age is due to the fact that he has always +taken good care of himself and because he has always refrained from +those habits that are known to tear a person's health down. + + + + +[HW: Dist. 6 +Ex-Slave #28] + +THE STORY OF AUNT MARY FERGUSON, EX-SLAVE +1928 Oak Street +Columbus, Georgia +December 18, 1936 + + +"Aunt" Mary Ferguson, nee Mary Little, nee Mary Shorter, was born +somewhere in Maryland; the exact locality being designated by her simply +as "the eastern shore" of that state. She was born the chattel of a +planter named Shorter, so her first name, of course, was Mary Shorter. + +For many years she has resided with a daughter and a granddaughter, at +1928 Oak Avenue, Columbus, Georgia. + +"Aunt" Mary was about thirteen years old when, in 1860, she was sold and +brought South. The story of which, as told in her own words is as +follows: + +"In 1860 I wuz a happy chile. I had a good ma an a good paw; one older +bruther an one older suster, an a little bruther an a baby suster, too. +All my fambly wucked in de fields, 'ceptin me an de two little uns, +which I stayed at home to mind. (mind--care for). + +"It wuz durin' cotton chopping time dat year (1860), a day I'll never +fergit, when de speckulataws bought me. We come home from the fiel' +'bout haf atter 'leven dat day an cooked a good dinner, I hopin her. O, +I never has forgot dat last dinner wid my fokes! But, some-ow, I had +felt, all de mawnin, lak sumpin was gwineter hapin'. I could jes feel it +in my bones! An' sho nough, bout de middle of the even', up rid my young +Marster on his hoss, an' up driv two strange white mens in a buggy. Dey +hitch dere hosses an' cum in de house, which skeered me. Den one o' de +strangers said, 'git yo clothers, Mary; we has bought you frum Mr. +Shorter." I c'menced cryin' an' beggin' Mr. Shorter to not let 'em take +me away. But he say, 'yes, Mary, I has sole yer, an' yer must go wid +em.' + +"Den dese strange mens, whose names I ain't never knowed, tuk me an' put +me in de buggy an' driv off wid me, me hollerin' at de top o' my voice +an' callin' my Ma! Den dem speckulataws begin to sing loud--jes to drown +out my hollerin.' + +"Us passed de very fiel whar paw an' all my fokes wuz wuckin, an' I calt +out as loud as I could an', as long as I could see 'em, 'good-bye, Ma!' +'good-bye, Ma!' But she never heared me. Naw, nah, daz white mens wuz +singin' so loud Ma could'n hear me! An' she could'n see me, caze dey had +me pushed down out o' sight on de floe o' de buggy. + +"I ain't never seed nor heared tell o' my Ma an' Paw, an' bruthers, an' +susters from dat day to dis. + +"My new owners tuck me to Baltymore, whar dey had herded tergether two +two-hoss wagon loads o' Niggers. All o' us Niggers wuz den shipped on a +boat to Savannah, an' frum dar us wuz put on de cyars an' sont to Macon. + +"In Macon, us wuz sold out, and Doctor (W.R.) Little, of Talbotton, +bought me at oxion (auction) an' tuck me home wid 'im. Den I wuz known +as Mary Little, instid of Mary Shorter." + +In the continuation of her narrative, "Aunt" Mary said that the Littles +trained her to be a nurse. Before the war ended, she was inherited by +Mr. Gus (the late Hon. W.A.) Little. + +She remembers that all the "quality", young white men who went to the +war from Talbotton took Negro men-servants (slaves) along with them. +These were usually called body-servants, and it was a body-servant's +duty to cook, wash, and do general valet service for his master. In a +pinch, he was also supposed to raid a hen roost, or otherwise rustle +food for his "white fokes". + +According to "Aunt" Mary, the Little Negroes were very religious and +given to much loud praying and singing, which often so disturbed Dr. +Little that he gave orders for them to stop it, and also ordered that +all lights in the slave quarters be out at 9 o'clock each night. + +"So us tuck to slippin' off to a big gully in de pastur to sing and pray +whar de white fokes couldn' hear us. + +"My fust baby wuz bawned in 1862, during de secon' year o' de war. I has +had several husbants, my las' un, he died 'bout seventeen years ago. + +"I ain't never seed but one hant in my life, an' I didn' know it wuz a +hant 'til Aunt Peggy (an old slave woman) tole me so. Dis hant was in de +shape o' a duck, an' it followed me one day frum de big house kitchen +ter de hawg pen whar I wuz gwine ter slop de hawgs. When I got back, I +said, 'Aunt Peggy, dar's a strange duck done tuck up wid us!' And she +say, 'hush, chile, dat's a hant!' I been seein' 'im fur severrel years! +An' dat sholy skeert me!" + +When asked if she had ever been whipped when a slave, "Aunt" Mary +replied, "Yes, and thank God fur it, fur ole Miss taught me to be hones' +an' not to steal." She admitted that being whipped for stealing made her +an honest woman. + +"Aunt" Mary's oldest child is now a man of 74. Her hair is as white as +cotton and her eye sight is dim, but she is still mentally alert. She +says that colored people are naturally religious and that they learned +all their "devilment" from the Whites. She deplores the wickedness into +which the world has drifted, but thanks God that slavery ended when it +did. + +She has never had any particular love for the Yankees, and thinks that +they treated the Southern white folks "most scandalously" after the +war, yet feels that she owes them a debt of gratitude for freeing her +people. She admits that her awful hatred of slavery was born of her sad +experience as a girl when she was so unceremoniously separated from her +loved ones, as previously told. She is also of the firm opinion the +those "speculataws" who brought her from Maryland to Georgia in 1860 are +"brilin in hell fur dey sin" of seperating her from her people. + + Must Jesus bear the cross alone + and all the world go free? + No, there is a cross for every one; + there's a cross for me; + This consecrated cross I shall bear til + death shall set me free, + And then go home, my crown to wear; + there is a crown for me. + +Sung for interviewer by Mary Ferguson, ex-slave, December 18, 1936. + + + + +FOLKLORE INTERVIEW + +CARRIE NANCY FRYER +415 Mill Street +Augusta, Georgia + +Written by: +Miss Maude Barragan +Federal Writers' Project +Residency #13 +Augusta, Georgia + + +An angular, red-skinned old Negro women was treading heavily down the +dusty sidewalk, leaning on a gnarled stick and talking to a little black +girl. A "sundown" hat shaded a bony face of typical Indian cast and her +red skin was stretched so tight over high cheek bones that few wrinkles +showed. + +"Auntie," she was asked, "have you time to tell me something about +slavery times?" "No'm, I sorry," she answered, "but I gwine to see a +sick lady now, and I gots to 'tend to somepin'." "May I come back to see +you at your house?" "Yas'm, any time you wants. I live in de lil' house +on de canal, it has a ellum tree in front. I riz it from sapling. I name +dat lil' tree 'Nancy' so when I gone, folks kin come by and bow and say +'Howdy, Nancy.'" + +She seated herself on a stone step and spread her many skirts of gray +chambray, hand-sewed with big white stitches. An old woman came by, her +shining black face puckered with anxiety, dressed in a starched white +uniform and a battered black hat, well brushed. + +"Morning, Nancy," she said. "You look mighty peak-ked dis morning." + +"Hunh!" grunted Nancy, "I oughter. I bin to see de mayor. I say 'Mr. +Mayor, here I is. I ain' got nuttin' to eat--it ain' right for a woman +my age to beg food. Now what yer gwine do 'bout it?' De mayor say: +'Auntie, you go right down to de welfare office at de Court House and +tell de lady I sont you to git somepin' to eat.' I done dat--dey promise +to send a lady, but I ain' see no lady yit." A heavy sigh rolled out. "I +didn' lef' skin of meat in my house or a piece of cornpone. But I didn' +take nuttin' to heart 'cause de Lord is my helper." + +The old woman sighed too. "Yeah, Nancy, das de way dey does. I ain' +gwine keep nasty house for nobody. But white people's funny. Dey think +if you got clean house and bleachin' sheets you mus' have somepin' to +eat inside." She clenched her fist, and her voice rose. "I tells you +right now--I gwine keep my house neat jus' like I bin taught, ef I never +gits no somepin' t'eat and ain' got cornpone in de oven." + +"A poor creeter come to my house today to beg for somepin' to eat," said +Nancy, "I ain' got nuttin' and I tell her so. She say she gwine to de +court-house too." + +"T'won't do no good," answered the other woman. "Come over here, Nancy. +I wants to talk to you." + +With a dignified excuse, Nancy creaked to her long length and moved +deliberately to the edge of the sidewalk. Whisperings followed, the +voices of the two old women rising in their excitement. + +"I ain' gwine into somepin' I don't know nuttin' about." + +"Nobody gwine 'swade me either." + +"My husband didn' put no composin' on me. If I don't git but one meal a +day, I ain' gwine dirty. I didn' have mouthful t'eat in my house." + +The interested eavesdropper decided that the welfare office had talked +social security to the women instead of direct relief, and they were +worried and suspicious about the matter. The old black woman was getting +angrier and angrier. + +"If any of 'em lookin' for me to have nasty old tore-up house, I ain' +gwine did it. You dunno when sickness come. When my boy got his leg +broke up, soon as dey could, dey put him off on me. Miz' Powell say: +'Steve, if you don't be good to your ma, de Lord gwine take your +blessing from you.' Dey paid Steve $137.00, Nancy, and he ain't gimmie a +nickle! He spent it on a woman in Edgefield. But my gal is diffunt. If +she ain' got but one mouthful she gwine give me half." + +Nancy nodded: "Dat like my gal too." + +The old woman took up her complaint again: "Um got daughter. When you +walk in her house, you think dey is a white person's house. When I was +workin and able, I put down as many bleachin' sheets as any white +'oman." + +Nancy's ponderous sigh rolled out. She was very "peaked" indeed on this +hot September morning. "If sister got a hoecake of bread, she gwine give +it to me. Ain' nobody else to help now--de Lord done come along and got +ev'y one of my mother's chillun but me." + +Seeing that present necessities were too important to permit an +interview, the visitor said: "Nancy, I'll see you tomorrow." A +preoccupied goodbye followed the interviewer, and the excited +conversation rose again. + +Three days later Nancy was found on the cluttered back porch of her +house by the canal. She was moving heavily about, picking up behind a +white boy and her bright-faced grandchild. Her face was still worried, +but her manner was warm and friendly. + +"I knowed you'd be comin'," she said, smiling, "but I looked for you +yesterday." She sat down and settled herself for conversation, her long +hands, still nice looking in spite of rheumatism, moving nervously over +her gray chambray lap. "Dis las' gone August I was 72 years old," she +began, "my sister say I older dan dat, but I know I born las' year of de +war. I was born on governor Pickens' place, de Grove place fur out, and +my mother was Lizbeth Cohen. Must have was my father a Indian, he +brighter dan me, but redder. I kin' member Miss Dooshka Pickens, de one +what went to Europe. Dey put all de lil' chillun in a row for her to +look at, and she sittin' up on her lil' pony lookin' at us chillun. She +was a pretty thing, yeah, I knowed her well. After de war my mother and +father rented land, paid de rent. We liveded well. I would go to school +three months when we first gether all de krep (crop). We had a colored +teacher in de Baptist Church where dey taught school. De name was Spring +Grove. + +"My father died and mother, she moved over in Ca-lina on General +Butler's place. She work in de fields. I wouldn' go to school but three +months in de year. When I growed up I work for Colonel Doctor McKie in +de house. He de fines' doctor I ever knowed. I got married to General +Butler's place where my mother was. I done had six chillun before I come +to Augusta. I nused to work for Dr. Sam Litchenstein, 17 years. He moved +to Louisville and dat thow me out anything to do. He tried to git me to +go down dere wid him but I fell in bad health. Den my daughter and dis +yere grandchild, I couldn' bear to leave dem. I cried when Dr. Sam lef', +he was good to me. I nused to carry dis grandchild to his house wid me +all de time." + +As Nancy's plantation recollections seemed vague, she was prompted to +talk about remedies and cures and on these her mind worked with speed +and decision. + +"I had high blood pressure so bad I couldn' walk right. My head nused to +spin, laying down all night, couldn' res. One night I doze off in my +sleep and a lady's spirit come to me. Her and my mother was two friends, +her name was Cyndie Gardenigh. She say: 'Honey, in de morning when you +git up, you git you some jimpson weed and put it wid cookin' salt and +bind it on your head.' I done det. I nused to have long hair to my +shoulder. Jimpson weed done cut my hair off, but it cured my blood +pressure. Mus' did kill 'em!" + +Asked how she treated her rheumatism, Nancy replied: + +"Git a pint glass wid a pint of kerosene in it, and a block of camphor. +Cut up de camphor and mix it round in de kerosene. Pat it on when de +pain come. When I got up dis morning, dis yere hand I couldn' move, and +now it feel a heap better. Lord, I done work so hard thoo' life, and all +done tuk from me!" + +A moment's silence brought shadows to Nancy's face. A twinge in her knee +reminded her of rheumatism cures. She rubbed the painful spot and +resumed: "You know what I am wearin' on my leg now? I made me two lil' +bags and put a Irish potato in it, and when it drawed up jus' as hard as +a log it done me good. But you got to _steal_ two Irish potatoes, and +put around both legs jus' below de knee. I just' be leanin' back stiff +all de time, couldn' walk. A old white man told me about dat. He see me +walkin' along crooked and he say: 'Auntie, what's de matter?' I told +him. He say: 'Now, I'll tell you what cure me. I was off in a furn +(foreign) country, and a man say; me walking cripple, and he told me to +steal two Irish potatoes and wear 'em, and when dey git hard you burn +'em up.' I specked I bin crooked up all kind of fashion if I ain't done +dat: I always bind a piece of brass around my leg. Das' good like gold." + +The eager grandchild was hanging over Nancy's shoulder, listening and +smiling. The white boy edged up, and Nancy laughed. "Hunh! I spects dese +chillun kin 'member tomorrow every word I tells you today. Dey knows +everything." Her bony arm encircled the Negro child. "Jooroosalom +oak--we got some and give it to dis lil' thing for worms. She went off +in a trance and never come out until 2 o'clock nex' day. I think we got +de wrong thing and give her root instead of seed. I never fool wid it no +more it skeered me so. Thought we had killed de child." + +Nancy was asked what her methods were in raising children. + +"Bin so long I mos' forgot," she said. "All my babies growed straight +'cause I swep' 'em 9 times for 9 mornings from de knees down on out, +dataway, and bathed 'em wid pot liquor and dish water. I ain' nused no +root cep' sassafax roots to make tea outten das good to purge your blood +in de spring of de year. Drinkin' water from a horse trough, I hearn' +tell das good for whoopin' cough and all lika-dat." + +"Dat daughter of mine, she had a wen on her neck big as a apple. An old +lady come to me. 'I come to git my child today,' she say, 'a lady died +dis morning and I wants to take her dere.' Well I didn' want my child +gwine to de death house but she take her. De corpse ain' cold yit. She +put her 9 times across, nine times straight, and dat child was cured. +Yas'm, she got jus' as pretty face now! Ain' no use talkin', she +straighten my child, her and de Lord! De wen went and jus' pass away. +You got to do it before de corpse git cold, jus' after de breaf' pass +out of de body." + +"I done mark three of my chillun. Yas'm, I ruin't three of 'em. I was +een de country and I was gwine thoo' de orchard, and de cherries was +scarce. I looked up in de man's cherry tree, and one tree was full of +fruit. Dey jus' as pretty! I say: 'Jim, please sir, give me one of dem +cherries.' Jim say: 'No!' I stood dere wishin' for dem cherries, +scratchin' my wrist, and my child born wid cherry on his wrist, right +where I scratch! I took de baby and showed him to old man Jim, and he +cry and pray over dat cherry and told me to forgive him and he never +would do it no more. But he done it den." + +"I live in de country. I come to town where a white man was down here on +McKinne Street makin' dat soft white candy. I stood up and wished for +it. It did look so pretty and I wanted some so bad and I didn' have no +money. I was cryin', scratchin' my forehead over my right eye near de +hair. He didn' give me none. When my gal born, she had white mark right +on her forehead in de place I scratched." + +"My sister-in-law made me ruin't my other child. Twas an old man coming +along. He was ruptured. He had on a white ap'on, and she bus' out +laughin' and say: 'Look at dat!' I jus' young gal, ain' be thinkin' and +I bus' out laughin' too, he did look funny. I ruin't my boy. He was in +de same fix and when I look at him I feel so bad, and think 'dat didn' +have to be.'" + +"Dis kin happen: anybody see another person wid pretty hair and rub dey +hair down, dat child gwine have mustee hair too. A old black 'oman had a +baby. She seen somebody wid dat mustee hair (das what we calls black +folks wid smooth straight hair) and when her child born, everybody say: +'Look what dis baby got! Long black hair!" + +Asked about persons born with cauls, Nancy grunted: + +"Hunh! My mother said it cover my head, shoulders and all! I kin see +ghosts. Was a man lived right dere in dat house yonder. His name was +Will Beasley but we call 'im Bee. De fus' time he got sick he had a +stroke, den he git up. De doctor told him to be careful but he would go +out. One night about 8 o'clock I see him go. I stay sittin' here on dis +porch, and about 10 o'clock here come Bee out of his house, in his night +clothes out de open door and cross de yard. He go behind dat house. I +call out: 'Bee, I thought you was gone off? He didn' notice me no more +dan I never spoke. I got worried about him bein' sick and when he come +out from behind de house I say: 'Bee, you bes' be gwine indorrs, dress +lika-dat. You git sick again.' He walk straight back in de house. Pretty +soon here come Bee down de street, all dressed up in his brown pants and +white shirt! I grab de bannister just' a-tremblin' and de hair rizzed up +on my head. I knowed den he ain' got long for here. He come on by and +say: 'Nancy, how you feelin'?' I say: 'Bee, how long you bin out?' He +say: 'Why, I bin gone since 8 o'clock.' I didn't say nuttin' but I +knowed I seed his spirit and it was his death. He tooken sick two or +three weeks later jus' before Labor Day, and died all paralyzed up. A +woman come to my house and say: 'Nancy, give dis to Bee.' I didn' want +to see him if he dyin' but I went on over. I call: 'Bee! Bee!' He say: +'Who dat, you, Miz' Nancy?' I say: 'Here's a bottle of medicine Miss +Minnie sont you.' He say: 'I can't move my right side.' He was: laying +wid his leg and arm in the air: stiff as a board. He say: 'Miz Nancy?' I +say: 'Hunh?' He say: 'Go down de canal bank and tell my Minnie please +come and rub me 'cause she know how. I want my Minnie.' Das de 'oman he +bin livin' wid since his wife lef' him. I wait till de King Mill boys +come along and call 'em. 'Tell Miz' Minnie dat Will Bee want her to come +and rub him.' But she never did come till 12 o'clock and he was dead +before she come. + +"I did had a niece what died. She was about 20 years old and a good +boy. Twas a year in August. I went on so over him, his mother say: +'Don't you know his last words was, 'I'm on my way to heaven and I ain' +gwine turn back?' Don't worry, Nancy.' But I did worry. Dat night he +come to me in spirit. He stand dere and look at me and smile, and he +say: 'Aunt, I am all right. Aunt, I am all right,' over and over. Den it +went off. I was jus' as satisfy den, and I never worry no more." + +Nancy said she saw ghosts all through her childhood. She did not +characterize them as "hants" but spoke of them throughout as ghosts. + +"I seed 'em when I was chillun," she said, "me and my sister one night +was comin' from spring. Twas in de winter time and jus' as cold, twas +dark and I had de light. Sister say: 'Babe, don't let dat light go out.' +Jus' den I seed it--a horse's head all spread out in fore! A big ball of +fire! I yelled: 'Oh, sister, look at de horse wid a head of fire!' She +knock me out for dead! She grab dat light and run home and lef' me in de +wood. When I come to I run to my mother crying and she say: 'Now Nancy, +you know you kin see 'em but you ought not to tell de other chillun and +skeer 'em. You mus' keep it to yourself.' Ever since den, I won't tell +nobody what I kin see. Yas'm, I wake up in de nighttime and see 'em +standin' all 'bout dis house. I ain' skeered--when you born wid de veil +it jus' be natchel to see 'em. Why, I sees 'em on de canal bank when de +fog sprangles through de trees and de shape forms on de ground'. + +"I hears de death alarm too. One kind of call comes from out de sky, a +big howlin' noise, loud like singin'--a regular tune. De other kind goes +'hummmmmmm' like somebody moanin'. I was settin' down and de bull bat +come in de house. Me and de chillun done all we could to git him out de +house. A woman nex' door was name Rachel. I say: 'Rachel! Dere's a bull +bat in here and we can't get him out.' You know what she done? She turn +her pocket inside out and dat bat went out de door jus' like it come in! +Dat a simple thing to do, ain' it? But it done de work. Dat was on +Thursday night. Saturday morning I got de news that my babiest sister +was dead. One of my boys was wid her. I was settin' down wid my head +bowed, prayin', and a white man dressed in a white robe come in de house +and stood before me and say: 'Oh, yeah! I gwine take your sister! Den +what your child gwine do?' I sot down and studied and I said: 'Lord, +I'll do de bes' I kin.' And Miss you know I had to take dat child back! + +"Before I los' my husband ev'y time he go out to work I couldn' hear +nuttin' but knockin'--ever he step out de house somebody come to de door +and knock four slow knocks. If he go off in de night it wouldn' stop +till he git back. I wouldn' tell him 'cause I knowed twould worry him. I +say: 'Sam, les' us move.' He say: 'Honey, we ain' long bin move here.' +But us 'cided to move anyway. Twas a big show in town. I let all de +chillun go to de show. Time I got my things fix up to move and went to +cook my dinner come de knockin' four times. I knowed he'd be took sick +pretty soon. He didn' 'low me to work. Dat was a good husband! I had six +chillun. He say: 'Honey, no! I workin' makin' enough to support you. All +I want you to do is keep dis house clean and me and my chillun, and I +will pay you de five dollars every week de white lady would pay you.' +And he done dat, gimme five dollars every week for myself. + +"A white lady was crazy about my work, jus' her and her husband. I got +up soon one morning, time he left, and runned up dere and washed her +clothes and ironed dem. Den I started back home 'bout noon. I heared +somethin' walkin' behind me. 'Bip! Bip!' I look round and didn' see +nuttin'. I kep' a lookin' back and den I heard a voice moanin' and kind +of singing: 'Oh, yeah! I bin here and done took your mother. I bin here +and done took your sister! Now I'm a-comin' to take your husband!' +Talking to me like-dat in de broad open daytime! I say: 'No, you won't! +No, you won't!' I commence a runnin', cryin' inside. When I got home I +thow myself on de bed shiverin' and shakin'. Twas no dinner done dat +day. When he come home dat night he tooken sick and never got up again. +He knock on de head of de bed jus' like de knocks come at de door, when +he want me to go to him! He never lived but two weeks and went on to de +judgment! + +"One night dey was givin' my husband toddy. He drink some and wanted me +to finish it. I told him no, I ain' drinkin' after no sick folks 'cause +it mean death. His first cousin tooked it and drank it. He was a fine +looking man in two months he was gone too! + +"My husband come to me in spirit any time I git worried up. When I git +in trouble he'll come and stand over me wid his arms folded behind him. +He told me one night: 'You must pray, Nancy. You must pray! Um gwine +help, and de Lord gwine help you too.' Missy, how you reckon he gwine +help me if he dead? I ask de Lord and beg him to take me too, beg him to +please carry me home." + +Nancy was becoming more and more doleful, and to take her mind from the +thought of her dead husband, she was asked about remedies. + +"When us had de mumps mother git sardines and take de oil out and rub us +jaws and dat cure us good. Sassafax for measles, to run de numor (humor) +out de blood. When de fever gone, she would grease us wid grease from +skin of meat. Git fat light'ood, make fire, cut de skin off bacon meat, +broil it over flame and let grease drip into a pan, den rub us all over +for de rash. Couldn' wash us you see, 'cep' under de arms a little +'cause water musn' tech us. For a sty in de eye we nused to say: 'Sty! +Lie!' You see dat call 'em a lie and dey go on off. 'Um got a sty! Sty! +Lie!' When witches ride me I took a sifter. An old lady told me de nex' +time dey come, 'you put de sifter in de bed.' I done dat and dey ain' +bother me since. A basin of water under de bed is good too." + +Nancy had an experience with a gold digger. He came to board, and had an +inconvenient habit of staying up all night. "I nused to have a old man +stay here wid me. One night I couldn' lay down it was so cold, so I sit +up and wrop in a blanket. He say: 'Nancy, see yonder! In de corner of +your yard is a pot of gold.' Now I knows if you go and git de money what +de dead done bury, you don't see no peace, so I told him he couldn' dig +in my yard. I made him move. A 'oman say he went to stay wid her and +when she got up one morning he had dug a hole in de yard big as a well, +so she runned him off too. He had all de implee-ments but he wouldn' let +nobody see him digging in de night. Well Miss, I knowed dat gold was +truly in my yard, because I got up one night and looked out dere, and a +white 'oman was standin' right where de old man say twas gold pot. I +look at de white lady, a high white lady, and she kep' her eye down in +dat corner guardin' de gold what she bury! Den I seed her go on off +thoo' de gate and I knowed twas de spirit of de woman what bury it." + +Nancy did not remember any stories about witches, booger-men or animals, +but she did give a version of the story of the mistress who was buried +alive. + +"Dat really did happen in Edgefield," she said. "Marster los' his +daughter and den his butler went to de cemetery and dugged her up. He +was gittin' de jewelries off of her finger when she moan; 'Oh, you +hurtin' my finger!' He runned back to de house and she got up out of de +coffin and went to de Big House. She knock on de door and her father +went, and he fainted. Her mother went, and she fainted. Everyone went to +de door fainted. But her father come to himself and he was so happy to +have his daughter back, he said God let de man dig her up and git her +out alive. He made dat nigger rich. Gin him a whole plantation and two +big carriage horses and a great big carriage and I dunno how much gold +and silver. Told him he didn' want him to do anything but sit down and +live off of what he gin him de res' of his life." + +Nancy asked her visitor to write a postcard to her "dear doctor" in +Louisville and tell him she was having a hard time. She insisted that +the card be signed: "Your Carrie Fryer what used to work for you, with +love." + +"Come back and see me some more," she begged wistfully, "I bin callin' +you in my mind all week." + + + + +PLANTATION LIFE + +ANDERSON FURR, Age 87 +298 W. Broad Street +Athens, Georgia + +Written by: +Sadie B. Hornsby [HW: (white)] +Athens + +Edited by: +Sarah H. Hall +Athens + +Leila Harris +Augusta + +and +John N. Booth +District Supervisor +Federal Writers' Project +Residencies 6 & 7 + + +Anderson Furr's address led the interviewer to a physician's residence +on Broad Street, where she was directed to a small frame house on the +rear of the lot. The little three-room cottage has a separate entrance +from Pulaski Street. Three stone steps lead from the street to the +narrow yard which is enclosed by a low rock coping. Anderson rents only +one room and the remainder of the house is occupied by Annie Sims and +her husband, George, who works at the Holman Hotel. + +Reclining comfortably in a cane-backed chair, with his walking stick +conveniently placed across his knees, Anderson was enjoying the shade of +a wide spread oak tree in the tidy yard. His costume consisted of a +battered old black felt hat, a dingy white shirt, dark gray pants, and +scuffed black shoes. Asked if he remembered the days when the North was +fighting the South for his freedom, Anderson replied: "'Member fightin'! +Why, Lady! Dey ain't never stopped fightin' yit. Folks has been +a-fightin' ever since I come in dis world, and dey will be fightin' long +atter I is gone. + +"I dis'members what was de name of de town whar I was borned, but it was +in Hall County. Lydia and Earl Strickland was my Ma and Pa. All of deir +chillun is daid now 'cept me and Bob. De others was: Abe, Bill, Jim, +and Sarah. Dere ain't much to tell 'bout what us done dem days, 'cept +play and eat. Dem what was big 'nough had to wuk. + +"Lordy, Miss! It's lak dis: I is a old Nigger, and I done been here for +many years, but dese last few years I sho' has been a sick man, and now +I can't git things straight in my mind lak dey was den. I knows us lived +in log houses what had great big chimblies made out of sticks and mud. +Why, dem fireplaces was 'bout eight feet wide, and you could put a whole +stick of cord wood on de fire. Us slept on high-up old timey beds what +had big posties and instead of springs, dey had stout cords wove 'cross +to hold de mattress. De last time I slept on one of dem sort of beds was +when I was a little boy, sleepin' wid my Ma. Pa and Ma was both field +hands. Ma's mammy was de onliest one of my grandmas I ever seed. Her +name was Ca'line and she lived wid Grandpa Abe on another plantation. +Ma's sister, my aunt Ca'line was cook up at our Old Marster's big house. + +"Money? Yessum! Dey gimme a little money now and den for totin' water to +de field, sweepin' de yards, and a million other things dey used to make +me do. De most dey ever gimme was 50 cents. I never spent none of it, +but jus' turned it over to my Ma. Chillun warn't 'lowed to spend money +den lak dey does now, 'cause dey had evvything dey needed anyhow. Old +Marster, he give us plenty somepin t'eat, such as it was. Dere was lots +of cornbread, a little meat now and den, collards, whip-poor-will peas +and dem unknown peas what was most big as a dime, and black 'lasses--dat +was lallyho. + +"Us cotch lots of 'possums, but mighty few of 'em us Niggers ever got a +chance to eat, or rabbits neither. Dey made Niggers go out and hunt 'em +and de white folks et 'em. Our mouths would water for some of dat +'possum but it warn't often dey let us have none. I don't know nothin' +'bout no fishin' bein' done dem days. Yessum, slaves had deir own +gyardens, and dey better wuk 'em good if dey wanted any gyarden sass to +eat. Cookin' was done in dem big open fireplaces, mostly in pots and +thick iron skillets what had lids on 'em. + +"Boys wore long blue striped shirts in summer and nothin' else a t'all. +Dem shirts was made jus' lak mother hubbards. Us wore de same thing in +winter only dem shirts was made new for winter. By summer dey had done +wore thin. When de weather got too cold, Marster give us old coats, what +grown folks had done most wore out, and us warn't none too warm den wid +de wind a-sailin' under our little old shirt tails. Our shoes was rough +old brogans what was hard as rocks, and us had to put rags inside 'em to +keep 'em from rubbin' de skin off our foots. Us didn't know what socks +and stockin's was dem. + +"Marse Earl Strickland owned us. Miss Sarah was his old 'oman and dey +was sho' mighty good to deir slaves. White folks was heap better folks +den dan dey is now anyhow. Now-a-days dey will knock you up right now, +and won't be long 'bout it. I can't git up no ricollections 'bout 'em +havin' no chillun a t'all. Seems lak I know for sho' dey didn't have +none. Dey never had no fine house neither; jus' a plain common house wid +a chimbly at both ends. + +"Oh, Lord! Marster never had no overseer; no car'iage driver neither; +didn't even have no car'iage yit. He did have a surrey what he hitched +mules to and driv for hisself. Warn't no hoss on dat plantation, nothin' +'cept mules. + +"How big was dat plantation? Good Granny! it was so big I never did git +all de way over it, and dere must a been 15 or 20 slaves. Old Marster +got us up 'bout sunrise and fetched us in at sundown. He was all time +knockin' on his Niggers 'bout somepin. He 'lowed dey didn't do dis, or +dat, or somepin else right--he allus had to have some 'scuse to knock +'em 'round." + +A little Negro boy, possibly five years old, came up to Anderson with a +peach in his hand and said: "Look, Uncle Anderson, C.T. done gimme dis +peach what he stole off dat dar wagon." The old man reached out his +hand. "Boy, you gimme dat peach," he commanded. "You knows I lak +peaches. Give it to me, I say. I do declar', nigger chillun jus' got to +steal anyhow. Run git yourself 'nother peach off dat wagon, but don't +you let dat man see you git it. Put dat peach under your shirt 'til you +gits in dis yard, and if you leave dis yard 'gain I'll buss your haid +wide open. Does you hear me, Boy? + +"What was dat you was a-axin' 'bout jails, Miss? Yessum, us had 'em. +Niggers would git too rowdy-lak, drinkin' liquor and fightin', and dat +was when de white folks slapped 'em in de gyardhouse, widout a bite to +eat. Gyardhouses is called jails dese days. I'se lak my Ma. I'se a +fighter. Ma would jump on anybody what looked at her twice. De onliest +time I ever got in de gyardhouse was a long time atter de end of de big +War. A man owed me some money, and when I axed him for it, he got mad +and knocked me down. I got right up and knocked him out, and right den +and dar I was sont to de gyardhouse. + +"Good Lord, Miss! Slave folks warn't 'lowed no time for to larn readin' +and writin'. Deir time was all tuk up in de field at wuk. Slaves went to +de white folks' church, but one thing sho' dey couldn't read de Bible +for deirselfs and couldn't write none. Jus' to tell de truth, I didn't +take in what dey sung at church, but I ain't forgot dem baptizin's. I'se +been to so many of 'em. Evvybody went in dem days. Dere warn't no place +in de church houses for to be ducked dem days, so de white folks had a +pool dug out by de branch for de baptizin's, and white folks and slaves +was ducked in de same pool of water. White folks went in fust and den de +Niggers. Evvybody what come dar sung a song 'bout 'My Sins has all been +Washed Away, and I is White as Snow.' + +"Slave fun'rels was mournful sights, for sho'. Dem home-made coffins was +made out of pine planks, and dey warn't painted or lined or nothin'. And +slave coffins warn't no diffunt from de ones de white folks used. Our +Marster sot aside a spot in his own buryin' grounds for de slaves' +graveyard. When dey was a-buryin' folks dey sung a song what went +somepin lak dis: 'Oh, Lord! Us takes 'em to de Graveyard, Never to fetch +'em Back.' + +"If slaves did run off to de North, I never heared nothin' 'bout it. +Oh, Lord! I jus' can't talk 'bout dem patterollers, for it looked lak +all de white folks tried to jine up wid 'em. How dey did beat up us pore +Niggers! Us had to git a pass for dis and a pass for dat, and dere jus' +warn't nothin' us could do widout dem patterollers a-beatin' us up. Dey +beat you wid a cowhide lash what cut a gash in your back evvy time it +struck you. Yessum, white folks and Niggers was all time quar'ellin' and +fightin'. + +"When slaves got in from de fields dey et deir somepin t'eat and went to +bed. Dey didn't have to wuk on Saddays atter dinnertime. When our old +Marster turned us loose, he turned us loose; and when he wuked us, us +sho' was wuked. De young folks had deir big times on Sadday nights. Dey +danced and frolicked 'round sort of lak dey does now. Evvybody went to +de meetin' house on Sunday, and dere's whar Niggers had a good time +a-courtin'. + +"Christmas was de time when old Marster let us do pretty much as us +pleased. Us had all kinds of good things t'eat, and atter us drunk a lot +of liquor it warn't long 'fore dere was a Nigger fight goin' on. Yessum, +us had cornshuckin's, cotton pickin's, quiltin's, log rollin's, and all +sich as dat. Wid plenty t'eat and good liquor to drink on hand, Niggers +would shuck corn or pick cotton all night. It was de big eats and lots +of liquor dat made slaves lak dem things. + +"Little slave boys played wid sun-baked marbles, made of mud, and old +rag balls, what was sho' a heap diffunt from what chilluns thinks dey +has got to have dese days 'fore dey kin have a good time. + +"Marster had mighty good keer tuk of his slaves when dey got sick. Dere +warn't many doctors dem days. Dey jus' used home-made medicines, mostly +teas made out of yarbs (herbs). I jus' can't git up no ricollection of +what yarbs dey did put in dem teas. I does 'member dat chillun had to +live wid bags of assfiddy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off +ailments. Ma give me and Bob, each one, a block of dat assfiddy for good +luck. I throwed my block 'way a few years ago, and I ain't had nothin' +but bad luck ever since. Dat's why I can't git up de things you wants to +know 'bout. My mind jus' don't wuk right no more. + +"Dem yankees was on de go all de time. One of 'em come to old Marster's +house and axed one of my uncles to go off wid him. Uncle was old and +skeered and he thought de yankees might kill him or somepin lak dat. +When de War was done over, old Marster told us 'bout how things was. He +said us was free and would have to do de best us could for ourselfs. Dem +was happy days for Niggers. Dey sho' didn't take no more foolishment off +of white folks atter dat, and dey don't pay 'em no mind now. Niggers got +so bad atter dey got deir freedom dat de Ku Kluxers come 'round and made +'em be'have deirselfs. One of dem Kluxers come to our house and set down +and talked to us 'bout how us ought to act, and how us was goin' to have +to do, if us 'spected to live and do well. Us allus thought it was our +own old Marster, all dressed up in dem white robes wid his face kivvered +up, and a-talkin' in a strange, put-on lak, voice. None of Marster's +Niggers never left him for 'bout two or three years. Dere warn't no way +for Niggers to buy no land 'til atter dey could make and save up some +money. Marster jus' paid up his Niggers once a year, at de end of crap +time. It warn't long atter de War was over 'fore dere was some few +schools for Niggers scattered 'round 'bout. + +"When did I git married? Lordy, Miss! Such things de giverment do want +to know 'bout pore old Niggers! It warn't 'til ten years atter us was +freed, dat me and Martha Freeman got married up together. Dat was one +sho' 'nough fine weddin' what Miss Sallie Morton and our other white +friends give us. Dey give us evvything us had at dat big old feast. Dere +was three tables full, one for de white folks, and two for de Niggers, +and dem tables was jus' loaded down wid good things. Willie and Ida was +de onliest chillun me and Martha had, and dey never lived to git grown. +Martha died out and den I married up wid Mamie White. Us didn't have no +chillun and Mamie's daid now. Dey's all daid 'cept me. + +"I thinks it was a good thing Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis did set us free, +and I sho hopes de giverment won't never fetch slavery back no more. + +"I never will forgit de day I jined up wid Morton's Baptist Church. I +had done helped my Pa build it from a brush arbor to a sho' 'nough +church house. De reason I jined up was 'cause de Marster had done +changed me from nature to Grace. I thinks evvybody ought to jine up in +de church 'cause it's de Lord's will. + +"Miss, I done told you all I knows and I'se a sick man, so go 'long wid +you and let me take my rest." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of +Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves: Volume IV, Georgia Narratives, Part 1, by Work Projects Administration + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: GEORGIA *** + +***** This file should be named 13602.txt or 13602.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/6/0/13602/ + +Produced by Jeannie Howse, Andrea Ball and PG Distributed +Proofreaders. 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