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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery
+in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, 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
+       Georgia Narratives, Part 3
+
+Author: Work Projects Administration
+
+Release Date: June 1, 2006 [EBook #18484]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: A FOLK ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Reda and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available 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 3
+
+
+
+
+Prepared by
+the Federal Writers' Project of
+the Works Progress Administration
+for the State of Georgia
+
+
+INFORMANTS
+
+Kendricks, Jennie                       1
+Kilpatrick, Emmaline                    8
+Kimbrough, Frances                     14
+King, Charlie                          16
+Kinney, Nicey                          21
+
+Larken, Julia                          34
+Lewis, George                          47
+
+McCommons, Mirriam                     51
+McCree, Ed                             56
+McCullough, Lucy                       66
+McDaniel, Amanda                       71
+McGruder, Tom                          76
+McIntosh, Susan                        78
+McKinney, Matilda                      88
+McWhorter, William                     91
+Malone, Mollie                        104
+Mason, Charlie                        108
+  [TR: In the interview, Aunt Carrie Mason]
+Matthews, Susan                       115
+Mays, Emily                           118
+Mention, Liza                         121
+Miller, Harriet                       126
+Mitchell, Mollie                      133
+Mobley, Bob                           136
+
+Nix, Fanny                            139
+Nix, Henry                            143
+
+Ogletree, Lewis                       146
+Orford, Richard                       149
+
+Parkes, Anna                          153
+Pattillio, G.W.                       165
+  [TR: In the interview,  G.W. Pattillo]
+Pope, Alec                            171
+Price, Annie                          178
+Pye, Charlie                          185
+
+Raines, Charlotte                     189
+Randolph, Fanny                       194
+Richards, Shade                       200
+Roberts, Dora                         206
+Rogers, Ferebe                        209
+Rogers, Henry                         217
+Rush, Julia                           229
+
+Settles, Nancy                        232
+Sheets, Will                          236
+Shepherd, Robert                      245
+Singleton, Tom                        264
+Smith, Charles                        274
+  [TR: In the interview, Charlie Tye Smith]
+Smith, Georgia                        278
+Smith, Mary                           285
+Smith, Melvin                         288
+Smith, Nancy                          295
+Smith, Nellie                         304
+Smith, Paul                           320
+Stepney, Emeline                      339
+Styles, Amanda                        343
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+[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.]
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist 5
+Ex-Slave #63]
+
+Whitley,
+1-22-36
+Driskell
+
+EX SLAVE
+JENNIE KENDRICKS
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Jennie Kendricks, the oldest of 7 children, was born in Sheram, Georgia
+in 1855. Her parents were Martha and Henry Bell. She says that the first
+thing she remembers is being whipped by her mother.
+
+Jennie Kendricks' grandmother and her ten children lived on this
+plantation. The grandmother had been brought to Georgia from Virginia:
+"She used to tell me how the slave dealers brought her and a group of
+other children along much the same as they would a herd of cattle," said
+the ex-slave, "when they reached a town all of them had to dance through
+the streets and act lively so that the chances for selling them would be
+greater".
+
+When asked to tell about Mr. Moore, her owner, and his family Jennie
+Kendricks stated that although her master owned and operated a large
+plantation, he was not considered a wealthy man. He owned only two other
+slaves besides her immediate family and these were men.
+
+"In Mr. Moores family were his mother, his wife, and six children (four
+boys and two girls). This family lived very comfortably in a two storied
+weatherboard house. With the exception of our grandmother who cooked for
+the owner's family and slaves, and assisted her mistress with housework
+all the slaves worked in the fields where they cultivated cotton and the
+corn, as well as the other produce grown there. Every morning at sunrise
+they had to get up and go to the fields where they worked until it was
+too dark to see. At noon each day they were permitted to come to the
+kitchen, located just a short distance in the rear of the master's
+house, where they were served dinner. During the course of the day's
+work the women shared all the men's work except plowing. All of them
+picked cotton when it was time to gather the crops. Some nights they
+were required to spin and to help Mrs. Moore, who did all of the
+weaving. They used to do their own personal work, at night also." Jennie
+Kendricks says she remembers how her mother and the older girls would go
+to the spring at night where they washed their clothes and then left
+them to dry on the surrounding bushes.
+
+As a little girl Jennie Kendricks spent all of her time in the master's
+house where she played with the young white children. Sometimes she and
+Mrs. Moore's youngest child, a little boy, would fight because it
+appeared to one that the other was receiving more attention from Mrs.
+Moore than the other. As she grew older she was kept in the house as a
+playmate to the Moore children so she never had to work in the field a
+single day.
+
+She stated that they all wore good clothing and that all of it was made
+on the plantation with one exception. The servants spun the thread and
+Mrs. Moore and her daughters did all of the weaving as well as the
+making of the dresses that were worn on this particular plantation. "The
+way they made this cloth", she continued, "was to wind a certain amount
+of thread known as a "cut" onto a reel. When a certain number of cuts
+were reached they were placed on the loom. This cloth was colored with a
+dye made from the bark of trees or with a dye that was made from the
+indigo berry cultivated on the plantation. The dresses that the women
+wore on working days were made of striped or checked materials while
+those worn on Sunday were usually white."
+
+She does not know what the men wore on work days as she never came in
+contact with them. Stockings for all were knitted on the place. The
+shoes, which were the one exception mentioned above, were made by one
+Bill Jacobs, an elderly white man who made the shoes for all the
+plantations in the community. The grown people wore heavy shoes called
+"Brogans" while those worn by the children were not so heavy and were
+called "Pekers" because of their narrow appearance. For Sunday wear, all
+had shoes bought for this purpose. Mr. Moore's mother was a tailoress
+and at times, when the men were able to get the necessary material, she
+made their suits.
+
+There was always enough feed for everybody on the Moore plantation. Mrs.
+Moore once told Jennie's mother to always see that her children had
+sufficient to eat so that they would not have to steal and would
+therefore grow up to be honorable. As the Grandmother did all of the
+cooking, none of the other servants ever had to cook, not even on
+Sundays or other holidays such as the Fourth of July. There was no stove
+in this plantation kitchen, all the cooking was done at the large
+fireplace where there were a number of hooks called potracks. The pots,
+in which the cooking was done, hung from these hooks directly over the
+fire.
+
+The meals served during the week consisted of vegetables, salt bacon,
+corn bread, pot liquor, and milk. On Sunday they were served milk,
+biscuits, vegetables, and sometimes chicken. Jennie Kendricks ate all of
+her meals in the master's house and says that her food was even better.
+She was also permitted to go to the kitchen to get food at any time
+during the day. Sometimes when the boys went hunting everyone was given
+roast 'possum and other small game. The two male slaves were often
+permitted to accompany them but were not allowed to handle the guns.
+None of the slaves had individual gardens of their own as food
+sufficient for their needs was raised in the master's garden.
+
+The houses that they lived in were one-roomed structures made of heavy
+plank instead of logs, with planer [HW: ?] floors. At one end of this
+one-roomed cabin there was a large chimney and fireplace made of rocks,
+mud, and dirt. In addition to the one door, there was a window at the
+back. Only one family could live in a cabin as the space was so limited.
+The furnishings of each cabin consisted of a bed and one or two chairs.
+The beds were well constructed, a great deal better than some of the
+beds the ex-slave saw during these days. Regarding mattresses she said,
+"We took some tick and stuffed it with cotton and corn husks, which had
+been torn into small pieces and when we got through sewing it looked
+like a mattress that was bought in a store."
+
+Light was furnished by lightwood torches and sometimes by the homemade
+tallow candles. The hot tallow was poured into a candle mold, which was
+then dipped into a pan of cold water, when the tallow had hardened, the
+finished product was removed.
+
+Whenever there was sickness, a doctor was always called. As a child
+Gussie was rather sickly, and a doctor was always called to attend to
+her. In addition to the doctor's prescriptions there was heart leaf tea
+and a warm remedy of garlic tea prepared by her grandmother.
+
+If any of the slaves ever pretended sickness to avoid work, she knows
+nothing about it.
+
+As a general rule, slaves were not permitted to learn to read or write,
+but the younger Moore children tried to teach her to spell, read, and
+write. When she used to stand around Mrs. Moore when she was sewing she
+appeared to be interested and so she was taught to sew.
+
+Every Sunday afternoon they were all permitted to go to town where a
+colored pastor preached to them. This same minister performed all
+marriages after the candidates had secured the permission of the master.
+
+There was only one time when Mr. Moore found it necessary to sell any of
+his slaves. On this occasion he had to sell two; he saw that they were
+sold to another kind master.
+
+The whipping on most plantation were administered by the [HW: over]seers
+and in some cases punishment was rather severe. There was no overseer on
+this plantation. Only one of Mr. Moore's sons told the field hands what
+to do. When this son went to war it became necessary to hire an
+overseer. Once he attempted to whip one of the women but when she
+refused to allow him to whip her he never tried to whip any of the
+others. Jennie Kendricks' husband, who was also a slave, once told her
+his master was so mean that he often whipped his slaves until blood ran
+in their shoes.
+
+There was a group of men, known as the "Patter-Rollers", whose duty it
+was to see that slaves were not allowed to leave their individual
+plantations without passes which [HW: they] were supposed to receive
+from their masters. "A heap of them got whippings for being caught off
+without these passes," she stated, adding that "sometimes a few of them
+were fortunate enough to escape from the Patter-Rollers". She knew of
+one boy who, after having outrun the "Patter-Rollers", proceeded to make
+fun of them after he was safe behind his master's fence. Another man
+whom the Patter-Rollers had pursued any number of times but who had
+always managed to escape, was finally caught one day and told to pray
+before he was given his whipping. As he obeyed he noticed that he was
+not being closely observed, whereupon he made a break that resulted in
+his escape from them again.
+
+The treatment on some of the other plantations was so severe that slaves
+often ran away, Jennie Kendricks told of one man [HW: who was] [TR:
+"being" crossed out] lashed [HW: and who] ran away but was finally
+caught. When his master brought him back he was locked in a room until
+he could be punished. When the master finally came to administer the
+whipping, Lash had cut his own throat in a last effort to secure his
+freedom. He was not successful; his life was saved by quick action on
+the part of his master. Sometime later after rough handling Lash finally
+killed his master [HW: and] was burned at the stake for this crime.
+
+Other slaves were more successful at escape, some being able to remain
+away for as long as three years at a time. At nights, they slipped to
+the plantation where they stole hogs and other food. Their shelters were
+usually caves, some times holes dug in the ground. Whenever they were
+caught, they were severely whipped.
+
+A slave might secure his freedom without running away. This is true in
+the case of Jennie Kendricks' grandfather who, after hiring his time out
+for a number of years, was able to save enough money with which to
+purchase himself from his master.
+
+Jennie Kendricks remembers very little of the talk between her master
+and mistress concerning the war. She does remember being taken to see
+the Confederate soldiers drill a short distance from the house. She says
+"I though it was very pretty, 'course I did'nt know what was causing
+this or what the results would be". Mr. Moore's oldest sons went to war
+[HW: but he] himself did not enlist until the war was nearly over. She
+was told that the Yankee soldiers burned all the gin houses and took all
+live stock that they saw while on the march, but no soldiers passed near
+their plantation.
+
+After the war ended and all the slaves had been set free, some did not
+know it, [HW: as] they were not told by their masters. [HW: A number of
+them] were tricked into signing contracts which bound them to their
+masters for several years longer.
+
+As for herself and her grandmother, they remained on the Moore property
+where her grandmother finally died. Her mother moved away when freedom
+was declared and started working for someone else. It was about this
+time that Mr. Moore began to prosper, he and his brother Marvin gone
+into business together.
+
+According to Jennie Kendricks, she has lived to reach such a ripe old
+age because she has always been obedient and because she has always
+been a firm believer in God.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist 1
+Ex-Slave #62]
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:
+EMMALINE KILPATRICK, Age 74
+Born a slave on the plantation of
+Judge William Watson Moore,
+White Plains, (Greene County) Georgia
+
+BY: SARAH H. HALL
+ATHENS, GA.
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+One morning in October, as I finished planting hyacinth bulbs on my
+cemetery lot, I saw an old negro woman approaching. She was Emmaline
+Kilpatrick, born in 1863, on my grandfather's plantation.
+
+"Mawnin' Miss Sarah," she began, "Ah seed yer out hyar in de graveyard,
+en I cum right erlong fer ter git yer ter read yo' Aunt Willie's
+birthday, offen her toomstone, en put it in writin' fer me."
+
+"I don't mind doing that for you, Emmaline," I replied, "but why do you
+want to know my aunt's birthday?"
+
+"Well," answered the old ex-slave, "I can't rightly tell mah age no
+udder way. My mammy, she tole me, I wuz bawned de same night ez Miss
+Willie wuz, en mammy allus tole me effen I ever want ter know how ole I
+is, jes' ask my white folks how ole Miss Willie is."
+
+When I had pencilled the birthdate on a scrap of paper torn from my note
+book and she had tucked it carefully away in a pocket in her clean blue
+checked gingham apron, Emmaline began to talk of the old days on my
+grandfather's farm.
+
+"Miss Sarah, Ah sho did love yo' aunt Willie. We wuz chilluns growin' up
+tergedder on Marse Billie's place. You mought not know it, but black
+chilluns gits grown heap faster den white chilluns, en whilst us played
+'round de yard, en orchards, en pastures out dar, I wuz sposed ter take
+care er Miss Willie en not let her git hurt, er nuthin' happen ter her."
+
+"My mammy say dat whan Marse Billie cum hom' frum de War, he call all
+his niggers tergedder en tell 'am dey is free, en doan b'long ter nobody
+no mo'. He say dat eny uf 'um dat want to, kin go 'way and live whar dey
+laks, en do lak dey wanter. Howsome ebber, he do say effen enybody wants
+ter stay wid him, en live right on in de same cabins, dey kin do it,
+effen dey promise him ter be good niggers en mine him lak dey allus
+done."
+
+"Most all de niggers stayed wid Marse Billie, 'ceppen two er thee brash,
+good fer nuthin's."
+
+Standing there in the cemetery, as I listened to old Emmaline tell of
+the old days, I could see cotton being loaded on freight cars at the
+depot. I asked Emmaline to tell what she could remember of the days whan
+we had no railroad to haul the cotton to market.
+
+"Well," she said, "Fore dis hyar railroad wuz made, dey hauled de cotton
+ter de Pint (She meant Union Point) en sold it dar. De Pint's jes' 'bout
+twelve miles fum hyar. Fo' day had er railroad thu de Pint, Marse Billie
+used ter haul his cotton clear down ter Jools ter sell it. My manny say
+dat long fo' de War he used ter wait twel all de cotton wuz picked in de
+fall, en den he would have it all loaded on his waggins. Not long fo'
+sundown he wud start de waggins off, wid yo' unker Anderson bossin' 'em,
+on de all night long ride towards Jools. 'Bout fo' in de mawnin' Marse
+Billie en yo' grammaw, Miss Margie, 'ud start off in de surrey, driving
+de bays, en fo' dem waggins git ter Jools Marse Billie done cotch up wid
+em. He drive er head en lead em on ter de cotton mill in Jools, whar he
+sell all his cotton. Den him en Miss Margie, dey go ter de mill sto' en
+buy white sugar en udder things dey doan raise on de plantation, en load
+'em on de waggins en start back home."
+
+"But Emmaline," I interrupted, "Sherman's army passed through Jewels and
+burned the houses and destroyed the property there. How did the people
+market their cotton then?"
+
+Emmaline scratched her head. "Ah 'members somepin 'bout dat," she
+declared. "Yassum, I sho' does 'member my mammy sayin' dat folks sed
+when de Fed'rals wuz bunnin' up evvy thing 'bout Jools, dey wuz settin'
+fire ter de mill, when de boss uv dem sojers look up en see er sign up
+over er upstairs window. Hit wuz de Mason's sign up day, kaze dat wuz de
+Mason's lodge hall up over de mill. De sojer boss, he meks de udder
+sojers put out de fire. He say him er Mason hisself en he ain' gwine see
+nobuddy burn up er Masonic Hall. Dey kinder tears up some uv de fixin's
+er de Mill wuks, but dey dassent burn down de mill house kaze he ain't
+let 'em do nuthin' ter de Masonic Hall. Yar knows, Miss Sarah, Ah wuz
+jes' 'bout two years ole when dat happen, but I ain't heered nuffin'
+'bout no time when dey didden' take cotton ter Jools ever year twel de
+railroad come hyar."
+
+"Did yer ax me who mah'ed my maw an paw? Why, Marse Billie did, cose he
+did! He wuz Jedge Moore, Marse Billie wuz, en he wone gwine hev no
+foolis'mant 'mongst 'is niggers. Fo' de War en durin' de War, de niggers
+went ter de same church whar dare white folks went. Only de niggers, dey
+set en de gallery."
+
+"Marse Billie made all his niggers wuk moughty hard, but he sho' tuk
+good keer uv 'em. Miss Margie allus made 'em send fer her when de
+chilluns wuz bawned in de slave cabins. My mammy, she say, Ise 'bout de
+onliest slave baby Miss Margie diden' look after de bawnin, on dat
+plantation. When any nigger on dat farm wuz sick, Marse Billie seed dat
+he had medicine an lookin' atter, en ef he wuz bad sick Marse Billie had
+da white folks doctor come see 'bout 'im."
+
+"Did us hev shoes? Yas Ma'am us had shoes. Dat wuz all ole Pegleg wuz
+good fer, jes ter mek shoes, en fix shoes atter dey wuz 'bout ter give
+out. Pegleg made de evvy day shoes for Marse Billie's own chilluns,
+'cept now en den Marse Billie fetched 'em home some sto' bought shoes
+fun Jools."
+
+"Yassum, us sho' wuz skeered er ghosts. Dem days when de War won't long
+gone, niggers sho' wus skert er graveyards. Mos' evvy nigger kep' er
+rabbit foot, kaze ghosties wone gwine bodder nobuddy dat hed er lef'
+hind foot frum er graveyard rabbit. Dem days dar wuz mos' allus woods
+'round de graveyards, en it uz easy ter ketch er rabbit az he loped
+outer er graveyard. Lawsy, Miss Sarah, dose days Ah sho' wouldn't er
+been standin' hyar in no graveyard talkin' ter ennybody, eben in wide
+open daytime."
+
+"En you ax wuz dey enny thing else uz wuz skert uv? Yassum, us allus did
+git moughty oneasy ef er scritch owl hollered et night. Pappy ud hop
+right out er his bed en stick de fire shovel en de coals. Effen he did
+dat rat quick, an look over 'is lef' shoulder whilst de shovel gittin'
+hot, den maybe no no nigger gwine die dat week on dat plantation. En us
+nebber did lak ter fine er hawse tail hair en de hawse trough, kaze us
+wuz sho' ter meet er snake fo' long."
+
+"Yassum, us had chawms fer heap er things. Us got 'em fum er ole Injun
+'oman dat lived crost de crick. Her sold us chawms ter mek de mens lak
+us, en chawms dat would git er boy baby, er anudder kind er chawms effen
+yer want er gal baby. Miss Margie allus scold 'bout de chawns, en mek us
+shamed ter wear 'em, 'cept she doan mine ef us wear asserfitidy chawms
+ter keep off fevers, en she doan say nuffin when my mammy wear er nutmeg
+on a wool string 'round her neck ter keep off de rheumatiz.
+
+"En is you got ter git on home now, Miss Sarah? Lemme tote dat hoe en
+trowel ter yer car fer yer. Yer gwine ter take me home in yer car wid
+yer, so ez I kin weed yer flower gyarden fo' night? Yassum, I sho' will
+be proud ter do it fer de black dress you wo' las' year. Ah gwine ter
+git evvy speck er grass outer yo' flowers, kaze ain' you jes' lak yo'
+grammaw--my Miss Margie."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist 6
+Ex Slave #65]
+
+J.R. Jones
+
+FRANCES KIMBROUGH, EX-SLAVE
+Place of birth: On Kimbrough plantation, Harries County,
+near Cataula, Georgia
+Date of birth: About 1854
+Present residence: 1639-5th Avenue, Columbus, Georgia
+Interviewed: August 7, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 --]
+
+
+"Aunt Frances" story reveals that, her young "marster" was Dr. Jessie
+Kimbrough--a man who died when she was about eighteen years of age. But
+a few weeks later, while working in the field one day, she saw "Marse
+Jessie's" ghost leaning against a pine "watchin us free Niggers wuckin."
+
+When she was about twenty-two years of age, "a jealous Nigger oman"
+"tricked" her. The "spell" cast by this "bad oman" affected the victim's
+left arm and hand. Both became numb and gave her great "misery". A
+peculiar feature of this visitation of the "conjurer's" spite was: if a
+friend or any one massaged or even touched the sufferer's afflicted arm
+or hand, that person was also similarly stricken the following day,
+always recovering, however, on the second day.
+
+Finally, "Aunt" Frances got in touch with a "hoodoo" doctor, a man who
+lived in Muscogee County--about twenty-five miles distant from her. This
+man paid the patient one visit, then gave her absent treatment for
+several weeks, at the end of which time she recovered the full use of
+her arm and hand. Neither ever gave her any trouble again.
+
+For her old-time "white fokes", "Aunt" Frances entertains an almost
+worshipful memory. Also, in her old age, she reflects the superstitious
+type of her race.
+
+Being so young when freedom was declared, emancipation did not have as
+much significance for "Aunt" Frances as it did for the older colored
+people. In truth, she had no true conception of what it "wuz all about"
+until several years later. But she does know that she had better food
+and clothes before the slaves were freed than she had in the years
+immediately following.
+
+She is deeply religious, as most ex-slaves are, but--as typical of the
+majority of aged Negroes--associates "hants" and superstition with her
+religion.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist 6
+Ex-Slave #64]
+
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-Search Worker
+
+CHARLIE KING--EX-SLAVE
+Interviewed
+435 E. Taylor Street, Griffin, Georgia
+September 16, 1936
+
+
+Charlie was born in Sandtown, (now Woodbury) Meriwether County, Georgia,
+eighty-five or six years ago. He does not know his exact age because his
+"age got burned up" when the house in which his parents lived was burned
+to the ground.
+
+The old man's parents, Ned and Ann King, [TR: "were slaves of" crossed
+out] Mr. John King, who owned a big plantation near Sandtown [TR: "also
+about two hundred slaves" crossed out]. [TR: HW corrections are too
+faint to read.]
+
+Charlie's parents were married by the "broom stick ceremony." The Master
+and Mistress were present at the wedding. The broom was laid down on the
+floor, the couple held each other's hands and stepped backward over it,
+then the Master told the crowd that the couple were man and wife.
+
+This marriage lasted for over fifty years and they "allus treated each
+other right."
+
+Charlie said that all the "Niggers" on "ole Master's place" had to work,
+"even chillun over seven or eight years of age."
+
+The first work that Charlie remembered was "toting cawn" for his mother
+"to drap", and sweeping the yards up at the "big house". He also recalls
+that many times when he was in the yard at the "big house", "Ole Miss"
+would call him in and give him a buttered biscuit.
+
+The Master and Mistress always named the Negro babies and usually gave
+them Bible names.
+
+When the Negroes were sick, "Ole Master" and "Ole Miss" did the
+doctoring, sometimes giving them salts or oil, and if [HW: a Negro]
+refused it, they used the raw hide "whup."
+
+When a member of a Negro family died, the master permitted all the
+Negroes to stop work and go to the funeral. The slave was buried in the
+slave grave yard. Sometimes a white minister read the Bible service, but
+usually a Negro preacher [HW: "officiated"].
+
+The Negroes on this plantation had to work from sun up till sun down,
+except Saturday and Sunday; those were free.
+
+The master blew on a big conch shell every morning at four o'clock, and
+when the first long blast was heard the lights "'gin to twinkle in every
+"Nigger" cabin." Charlie, chuckling, recalled that "ole Master" blowed
+that shell so it could-a-been heard for five miles." Some of the
+"Niggers" went to feed the mules and horses, some to milk the cows, some
+to cook the breakfast in the big house, some to chop the wood, while
+others were busy cleaning up the "big house."
+
+When asked if he believed in signs, Charlie replied: "I sho does for dis
+reason. Once jest befo my baby brother died, ole screech owl, he done
+come and set up in the big oak tree right at the doah by de bed and fo'
+the next twelve hours passed, my brother was dead. Screech owls allus
+holler 'round the house before death."
+
+The slaves always had plenty to eat and wear, and therefore did not know
+what it was to be hungry.
+
+The Master planted many acres of cotton, corn, wheat, peas, and all
+kinds of garden things. Every "Nigger family was required to raise
+plenty of sweet potatoes, the Master giving them a patch." "My 'ole
+Master' trained his smartest 'Niggers' to do certain kinds of work. My
+mother was a good weaver, and [HW: she] wove all the cloth for her own
+family, and bossed the weaving of all the other weavers on the
+plantation."
+
+Charlie and all of his ten brothers and sisters helped to card and spin
+the cotton for the looms. Sometimes they worked all night, Charlie often
+going to sleep while carding, when his mother would crack him on the
+head with the carder handle and wake him up. Each child had a night for
+carding and spinning, so they all would get a chance to sleep.
+
+Every Saturday night, the Negroes had a "breakdown," often dancing all
+night long. About twelve o'clock they had a big supper, everybody
+bringing a box of all kinds of good things to eat, and putting it on a
+long table.
+
+On Sunday, all the darkies had to go to church. Sometimes the Master had
+a house on his plantation for preaching, and sometimes the slaves had to
+go ten or twelve miles to preaching. When they went so far the slaves
+could use 'ole' Master's' mules and wagons.
+
+Charlie recalls very well when the Yankees came through. The first thing
+they did when they reached 'ole Master's' place was to break open the
+smokehouse and throw the best hams and shoulders out to the darkies, but
+as soon as the Yankees passed, the white folks made the "Niggers" take
+"all dey had'nt et up" back to the smokehouse. "Yes, Miss, we had plenty
+of liquor. Ole Master always kept kegs of it in the cellar and big
+'Jimmy-john's' full in the house, and every Saturday night he'd give us
+darkies a dram, but nobody nevah seed no drunk Nigger lak dey does now."
+
+Charlie's mother used to give her "chillun" "burnt whiskey" every
+morning "to start the day off." This burnt whiskey gave them "long
+life".
+
+Another thing that Charlie recalls about the Yankees coming through, was
+that they took the saddles off their "old sore back horses", turned them
+loose, and caught some of Master's fine "hosses", threw the saddles over
+them and rode away.
+
+Charlie said though "ole Marster" "whupped" when it was necessary, but
+he was not "onmerciful" like some of the other "ole Marsters" were, but
+the "paterolers would sho lay it on if they caught a Nigger off his home
+plantation without a pass." The passes were written statements or
+permits signed by the darkies' owner, or the plantation overseer.
+
+Charlie is very feeble and unable to work. The Griffin Relief
+Association [TR: "furnishes him his sustenance" crossed out, "sees to
+him" or possibly "supports him" written in.]
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE
+
+NICEY KINNEY, Age 86
+R.F.D. #3
+Athens, Ga.
+
+Written by:
+Miss Grace McCune
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Proj.
+Res. 6 & 7
+Augusta, Ga.
+
+Sept. 28, 1938
+
+
+A narrow path under large water oaks led through a well-kept yard where
+a profusion of summer flowers surrounded Nicey Kinney's two-story frame
+house. The porch floor and a large portion of the roof had rotted down,
+and even the old stone chimney at one end of the structure seemed to
+sag. The middle-aged mulatto woman who answered the door shook her head
+when asked if she was Nicey Kinney. "No, mam," she protested, "but dat's
+my mother and she's sick in bed. She gits mighty lonesome lyin' dar in
+de bed and she sho does love to talk. Us would be mighty proud if you
+would come in and see her."
+
+Nicey was propped up in bed and, although the heat of the September day
+was oppressive, the sick woman wore a black shoulder cape over her thick
+flannel nightgown; heavy quilts and blankets were piled close about her
+thin form, and the window at the side of her bed was tightly closed. Not
+a lock of her hair escaped the nightcap that enveloped her head. The
+daughter removed an empty food tray and announced, "Mammy, dis lady's
+come to see you and I 'spects you is gwine to lak her fine 'cause she
+wants to hear 'bout dem old days dat you loves so good to tell about."
+Nicey smiled. "I'se so glad you come to see me," she said, "'cause I
+gits so lonesome; jus' got to stay here in dis bed, day in and day out.
+I'se done wore out wid all de hard wuk I'se had to do, and now I'se a
+aged 'oman, done played out and sufferin' wid de high blood pressur'.
+But I kin talk and I does love to bring back dem good old days a-fore de
+war."
+
+Newspapers had been pasted on the walls of Nicey's room. In one corner
+an enclosed staircase was cut off from the room by a door at the head of
+the third step; the space underneath the stair was in use as a closet.
+The marble topped bureau, two double beds, a couple of small tables, and
+some old chairs were all of a period prior to the current century. A pot
+of peas was perched on a pair of "firedogs" over the coals of a wood
+fire in the open fireplace. On a bed of red coals a thick iron pan held
+a large pone of cornbread, and the tantalizing aroma of coffee drew
+attention to a steaming coffeepot on a trivet in one corner of the
+hearth. Nicey's daughter turned the bread over and said, "Missy, I jus'
+bet you ain't never seed nobody cookin' dis way. Us is got a stove back
+in de kitchen, but our somepin t'eat seems to taste better fixed dis
+'way; it brings back dem old days when us was chillun and all of us was
+at home wid mammy." Nicey grinned. "Missy," she said, "Annie--dat's dis
+gal of mine here--laughs at de way I laks dem old ways of livin', but
+she's jus' as bad 'bout 'em as I is, 'specially 'bout dat sort of
+cookin'; somepin t'eat cooked in dat old black pot is sho good.
+
+"Marse Gerald Sharp and his wife, Miss Annie, owned us and, Child, dey
+was grand folks. Deir old home was 'way up in Jackson County 'twixt
+Athens and Jefferson. Dat big old plantation run plumb back down to de
+Oconee River. Yes, mam, all dem rich river bottoms was Marse Gerald's.
+
+"Mammy's name was Ca'line and she b'longed to Marse Gerald, but Marse
+Hatton David owned my daddy--his name was Phineas. De David place warn't
+but 'bout a mile from our plantation and daddy was 'lowed to stay wid
+his fambly most evvy night; he was allus wid us on Sundays. Marse Gerald
+didn't have no slaves but my mammy and her chillun, and he was sho
+mighty good to us.
+
+"Marse Gerald had a nice four-room house wid a hall all de way through
+it. It even had two big old fireplaces on one chimbly. No, mam, it
+warn't a rock chimbly; dat chimbly was made out of home-made bricks.
+Marster's fambly had deir cookin' done in a open fireplace lak evvybody
+else for a long time and den jus' 'fore de big war he bought a stove.
+Yes, mam, Marse Gerald bought a cook stove and us felt plumb rich 'cause
+dere warn't many folks dat had stoves back in dem days.
+
+"Mammy lived in de old kitchen close by de big house 'til dere got to be
+too many of us; den Marse Gerald built us a house jus' a little piece
+off from de big house. It was jus' a log house, but Marster had all dem
+cracks chinked tight wid red mud, and he even had one of dem
+franklin-back chimblies built to keep our little cabin nice and warm.
+Why, Child, ain't you never seed none of dem old chimblies? Deir backs
+sloped out in de middle to throw out de heat into de room and keep too
+much of it from gwine straight up de flue. Our beds in our cabin was
+corded jus' lak dem up at de big house, but us slept on straw ticks and,
+let me tell you, dey sho slept good atter a hard days's wuk.
+
+"De bestest water dat ever was come from a spring right nigh our cabin
+and us had long-handled gourds to drink it out of. Some of dem gourds
+hung by de spring all de time and dere was allus one or two of 'em
+hangin' by de side of our old cedar waterbucket. Sho', us had a cedar
+bucket and it had brass hoops on it; dat was some job to keep dem hoops
+scrubbed wid sand to make 'em bright and shiny, and dey had to be clean
+and pretty all de time or mammy would git right in behind us wid a
+switch. Marse Gerald raised all dem long-handled gourds dat us used
+'stid of de tin dippers folks has now, but dem warn't de onliest kinds
+of gourds he growed on his place. Dere was gourds mos' as big as
+waterbuckets, and dey had short handles dat was bent whilst de gourds
+was green, so us could hang 'em on a limb of a tree in de shade to keep
+water cool for us when us was wukin' in de field durin' hot weather.
+
+"I never done much field wuk 'til de war come on, 'cause Mistess was
+larnin' me to be a housemaid. Marse Gerald and Miss Annie never had no
+chillun 'cause she warn't no bearin' 'oman, but dey was both mighty fond
+of little folks. On Sunday mornin's mammy used to fix us all up nice and
+clean and take us up to de big house for Marse Gerald to play wid. Dey
+was good christian folks and tuk de mostest pains to larn us chillun how
+to live right. Marster used to 'low as how he had done paid $500 for
+Ca'line but he sho wouldn't sell her for no price.
+
+"Evvything us needed was raised on dat plantation 'cept cotton. Nary a
+stalk of cotton was growed dar, but jus' de same our clothes was made
+out of cloth dat Mistess and my mammy wove out of thread us chillun
+spun, and Mistess tuk a heap of pains makin' up our dresses. Durin' de
+war evvybody had to wear homespun, but dere didn't nobody have no better
+or prettier dresses den ours, 'cause Mistess knowed more'n anybody 'bout
+dyein' cloth. When time come to make up a batch of clothes Mistess would
+say, 'Ca'line holp me git up my things for dyein',' and us would fetch
+dogwood bark, sumach, poison ivy, and sweetgum bark. That poison ivy
+made the best black of anything us ever tried, and Mistess could dye the
+prettiest sort of purple wid sweetgum bark. Cop'ras was used to keep de
+colors from fadin', and she knowed so well how to handle it dat you
+could wash cloth what she had dyed all day long and it wouldn't fade a
+speck.
+
+"Marster was too old to go to de war, so he had to stay home and he sho
+seed dat us done our wuk raisin' somepin t'eat. He had us plant all our
+cleared ground, and I sho has done some hard wuk down in dem old bottom
+lands, plowin', hoein', pullin' corn and fodder, and I'se even cut
+cordwood and split rails. Dem was hard times and evvybody had to wuk.
+
+"Sometimes Marse Gerald would be away a week at a time when he went to
+court at Jefferson, and de very last thing he said 'fore he driv off
+allus was, 'Ca'line, you and de chillun take good care of Mistess.' He
+most allus fetched us new shoes when he come back, 'cause he never kept
+no shoemaker man on our place, and all our shoes was store-bought. Dey
+was jus' brogans wid brass toes, but us felt powerful dressed up when us
+got 'em on, 'specially when dey was new and de brass was bright and
+shiny. Dere was nine of us chillun, four boys and five gals. Us gals had
+plain cotton dresses made wid long sleeves and us wore big sunbonnets.
+What would gals say now if dey had to wear dem sort of clothes and do
+wuk lak what us done? Little boys didn't wear nothin' but long shirts in
+summertime, but come winter evvybody had good warm clothes made out of
+wool off of Marse Gerald's own sheep, and boys, even little tiny boys,
+had britches in winter.
+
+"Did you ever see folks shear sheep, Child? Well, it was a sight in dem
+days. Marster would tie a sheep on de scaffold, what he had done built
+for dat job, and den he would have me set on de sheep's head whilst he
+cut off de wool. He sont it to de factory to have it carded into bats
+and us chillun spun de thread at home and mammy and Mistess wove it into
+cloth for our winter clothes. Nobody warn't fixed up better on church
+days dan Marster's Niggers and he was sho proud of dat.
+
+"Us went to church wid our white folks 'cause dere warn't no colored
+churches dem days. None of de churches 'round our part of de country had
+meetin' evvy Sunday, so us went to three diffunt meetin' houses. On de
+fust Sunday us went to Captain Crick Baptist church, to Sandy Crick
+Presbyterian church on second Sundays, and on third Sundays meetin' was
+at Antioch Methodist church whar Marster and Mistess was members. Dey
+put me under de watchkeer of deir church when I was a mighty little gal,
+'cause my white folks sho b'lieved in de church and in livin' for God;
+de larnin' dat dem two good old folks gimme is done stayed right wid me
+all through life, so far, and I aims to live by it to de end. I didn't
+sho 'nough jine up wid no church 'til I was done growed up and had left
+Marse Gerald; den I jined de Cedar Grove Baptist church and was baptized
+dar, and dar's whar I b'longs yit.
+
+"Marster was too old to wuk when dey sot us free, so for a long time us
+jus' stayed dar and run his place for him. I never seed none of dem
+Yankee sojers but one time. Marster was off in Jefferson and while I was
+down at de washplace I seed 'bout 12 men come ridin' over de hill. I was
+sho skeered and when I run and told Mistess she made us all come inside
+her house and lock all de doors. Dem Yankee mens jus' rode on through
+our yard down to de river and stayed dar a little while; den dey turned
+around and rid back through our yard and on down de big road, and us
+never seed 'em no more.
+
+"Soon atter dey was sot free Niggers started up churches of dey own and
+it was some sight to see and hear 'em on meetin' days. Dey would go in
+big crowds and sometimes dey would go to meetin's a fur piece off. Dey
+was all fixed up in deir Sunday clothes and dey walked barfoots wid deir
+shoes acrost deir shoulders to keep 'em from gittin' dirty. Jus' 'fore
+dey got to de church dey stopped and put on deir shoes and den dey was
+ready to git together to hear de preacher.
+
+"Folks don't know nothin' 'bout hard times now, 'specially young folks;
+dey is on de gravy train and don't know it, but dey is headed straight
+for 'struction and perdition; dey's gwine to land in dat burnin' fire if
+dey don't mind what dey's about. Jus' trust in de Lord, Honey, and cast
+your troubles on Him and He'll stay wid you, but if you turns your back
+on Him, den you is lost, plumb gone, jus' as sho as shelled corn.
+
+"When us left Marse Gerald and moved nigh Athens he got a old Nigger
+named Egypt, what had a big fambly, to live on his place and do all de
+wuk. Old Marster didn't last long atter us was gone. One night he had
+done let his farm hands have a big cornshuckin' and had seed dat dey had
+plenty of supper and liquor to go wid it and, as was de custom dem days,
+some of dem Niggers got Old Marster up on deir shoulders and toted him
+up to de big house, singin' as dey went along. He was jus' as gay as dey
+was, and joked de boys. When dey put him down on de big house porch he
+told Old Mistess he didn't want no supper 'cept a little coffee and
+bread, and he strangled on de fust bite. Mistess sont for de doctor but
+he was too nigh gone, and it warn't long 'fore he had done gone into de
+glory of de next world. He was 'bout 95 years old when he died and he
+had sho been a good man. One of my nieces and her husband went dar atter
+Marse Gerald died and tuk keer of Mistess 'til she went home to glory
+too.
+
+"Mammy followed Old Mistess to glory in 'bout 3 years. Us was livin' on
+de Johnson place den, and it warn't long 'fore me and George Kinney got
+married. A white preacher married us, but us didn't have no weddin'
+celebration. Us moved to de Joe Langford place in Oconee County, but
+didn't stay dar but one year; den us moved 'crost de crick into Clarke
+County and atter us farmed dar 9 years, us moved on to dis here place
+whar us has been ever since. Plain old farmin' is de most us is ever
+done, but George used to make some mighty nice cheers to sell to de
+white folks. He made 'em out of hick'ry what he seasoned jus' right and
+put rye split bottoms in 'em. Dem cheers lasted a lifetime; when dey got
+dirty you jus' washed 'em good and sot 'em in de sun to dry and dey was
+good as new. George made and sold a lot of rugs and mats dat he made out
+of plaited shucks. Most evvybody kep' a shuck footmat 'fore deir front
+doors. Dem sunhats made out of shucks and bulrushes was mighty fine to
+wear in de field when de sun was hot. Not long atter all ten of our
+chillun was borned, George died out and left me wid dem five boys and
+five gals.
+
+"Some old witch-man conjured me into marryin' Jordan Jackson. Dat's de
+blessed truth, Honey; a fortune-teller is done told me how it was done.
+I didn't want to have nothin' to do wid Jordan 'cause I knowed he was
+jus' a no 'count old drinkin' man dat jus' wanted my land and stuff.
+When he couldn't git me to pay him no heed hisself, he went to a old
+conjure man and got him to put a spell on me. Honey, didn't you know dey
+could do dat back in dem days? I knows dey could, 'cause I never woulda
+run round wid no Nigger and married him if I hadn't been witched by dat
+conjure business. De good Lord sho punishes folks for deir sins on dis
+earth and dat old man what put dat spell on me died and went down to
+burnin' hell, and it warn't long den 'fore de spell left me.
+
+"Right den I showed dat no 'count Jordan Jackson dat I was a good 'oman,
+a powerful sight above him, and dat he warn't gwine to git none of dis
+land what my chillun's daddy had done left 'em. When I jus' stood right
+up to him and showed him he warn't gwine to out whack me, he up and left
+me and I don't even use his name no more 'cause I don't want it in my
+business no way a t'all. Jordan's done paid his debt now since he died
+and went down in dat big old burnin' hell 'long wid de old witch man dat
+conjured me for him.
+
+"Yes, Honey, de Lord done put it on record dat dere is sho a burnin'
+place for torment, and didn't my Marster and Mistess larn me de same
+thing? I sho does thank 'em to dis day for de pains dey tuk wid de
+little Nigger gal dat growed up to be me, tryin' to show her de right
+road to travel. Oh! If I could jus' see 'em one more time, but dey can
+look down from de glory land and see dat I'se still tryin' to follow de
+road dat leads to whar dey is, and when I gits to dat good and better
+world I jus' knows de Good Lord will let dis aged 'oman be wid her dear
+Marster and Mistess all through de time to come.
+
+"Trust God, Honey, and He will lead you home to glory. I'se sho enjoyed
+talkin' to you, and I thanks you for comin'. I'se gwine to ax Him to
+take good keer of you and let you come back to cheer up old Nicey
+again."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE
+
+JULIA LARKEN, Age 76
+693 Meigs Street
+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
+
+
+Julia's small three-room cottage is a servant house at the rear of a
+white family's residence. A gate through an old-fashioned picket fence
+led into a spacious yard where dense shade from tall pecan trees was
+particularly inviting after a long walk in the sweltering heat.
+
+An aged mulatto woman was seated on the narrow porch. Her straight white
+hair was arranged in braids, and her faded print dress and enormous
+checked apron were clean and carefully patched. A pair of dark colored
+tennis shoes completed her costume. She arose, tall and erect, to greet
+her visitor. "Yessum, dis here's Julia Larken," she said with a friendly
+smile. "Come right in, Chile, and set here and rest on my nice cool
+porch. I knows you's tired plumb out. You shouldn't be out walkin'
+'round in dis hot sun--It ain't good for you. It'll make you have brain
+fever 'fore you knows it."
+
+When asked for the story of her life, Julia replied: "Lordy, Chile, did
+you do all dis walkin', hot as it is today, jus' to hear dis old Nigger
+talk? Well, jus' let me tell you, dem days back yonder 'fore de war was
+de happiest time of my whole life.
+
+"I don't know much 'bout slavery, 'cause I was jus' a little gal when de
+war ended. I was borned in war times on Marse Payton Sails' plantation,
+way off down in Lincoln County. My Ma was borned and bred right dar on
+dat same place. Marster bought my Daddy and his Mammy from Captain
+LeMars, and dey tuk de name of Sails atter dey come to live on his
+place. Mammy's name was Betsy Sails and Daddy was named Sam'l. Dey was
+married soon atter Marster fetched Daddy dar.
+
+"Dere ain't no tellin' how big Marster's old plantation was. His house
+set right on top of a high hill. His plantation road circled 'round dat
+hill two or three times gittin' from de big road to de top of de hill.
+Dere was a great deep well in de yard whar dey got de water for de big
+house. Marster's room was upstairs and had steps on de outside dat come
+down into de yard. On one side of his house was a fine apple orchard, so
+big dat it went all de way down de hill to de big road.
+
+"On de other side of de house was a large gyarden whar us raised
+evvything in de way of good veg'tables; dere was beans, corn, peas,
+turnips, collards, 'taters, and onions. Why dey had a big patch of
+nothin' but onions. Us did love onions. Dere was allus plenty of good
+meat in Marster's big old smokehouse dat stood close by de well.
+Marster, he believed in raisin' heaps of meat. He had cows, hogs, goats,
+and sheep, not to mention his chickens and turkeys.
+
+"All de cloth for slaves' clothes was made at home. Mammy was one of de
+cooks up at de big house, and she made cloth too. Daddy was de shoe man.
+He made de shoes for all de folks on de plantation.
+
+"De log cabins what de slaves lived in was off a piece from de big
+house. Dem cabins had rock chimblies, put together wid red mud. Dere
+warn't no glass in de windows and doors of dem cabins--jus' plain old
+home-made wooden shutters and doors." Julia laughed as she told of their
+beds. "Us called 'em four posters, and dat's what dey was, but dey was
+jus' plain old pine posties what one of de men on de plantation made up.
+Two posties at de head and two at de foot wid pine rails betwixt 'em was
+de way dey made dem beds. Dere warn't no sto'-bought steel springs dem
+days, not even for de white folks, but dem old cord springs went a long
+ways towards makin' de beds comfortable and dey holped to hold de bed
+together. De four poster beds de white folks slept on was corded too,
+but deir posties warn't made out of pine. Dey used oak and walnut and
+sometimes real mahogany, and dey carved 'em up pretty. Some of dem big
+old posties to de white folkses beds was six inches thick.
+
+"Slaves all et up at de big house in dat long old kitchen. I kin jus'
+see dat kitchen now. It warn't built on to de big house, 'cept it was at
+de end of a big porch dat went from it to de big house. A great big
+fireplace was 'most all de way 'cross one end of dat kitchen, and it had
+racks and cranes for de pots and pans and ovens but, jus' let me tell
+you, our Marster had a cookstove too. Yessum, it was a real sho' 'nough
+iron cookstove. No'm, it warn't 'zactly lak de stoves us uses now. It
+was jus' a long, low stove, widout much laigs, jus' flat on top wid eyes
+to cook on. De oven was at de bottom. Mammy and Grandma Mary was mighty
+proud of dat stove, 'cause dere warn't nobody else 'round dar what had a
+cookstove so us was jus' plumb rich folks.
+
+"Slaves didn't come to de house for dinner when dey was wukin' a fur
+piece off in de fields. It was sont to 'em, and dat was what kilt one of
+my brothers. Whilst it was hot, de cooks would set de bucket of dinner
+on his haid and tell him to run to de field wid it fore it got cold. He
+died wid brain fever, and de doctor said it was from totin' all dem hot
+victuals on his haid. Pore Brudder John, he sho' died out, and ever
+since den I been skeered of gittin' too hot on top of de haid.
+
+"Dere was twelve of Mammy's chillun in all, countin' Little Peter who
+died out when he was a baby. De other boys was John, Tramer, Sam'l,
+George, and Scott. De only one of my brothers left now is George,
+leastwise I reckon he's livin' yet. De last 'count I had of him he was
+in Chicago, and he must be 'bout a hundred years old now. De gals was me
+and Mary, 'Merica, Hannah, Betsy, and Emma.
+
+"'Fore Grandma Mary got too old to do all de cookin', Mammy wuked in de
+field. Mammy said she allus woke up early, and she could hear Marster
+when he started gittin' up. She would hurry and git out 'fore he had
+time to call 'em. Sometimes she cotch her hoss and rid to the field
+ahead of de others, 'cause Marster never laked for nobody to be late in
+de mornin'. One time he got atter one of his young slaves out in de
+field and told him he was a good mind to have him whupped. Dat night de
+young Nigger was tellin' a old slave 'bout it, and de old man jus'
+laughed and said: 'When Marster pesters me dat way I jus' rise up and
+cuss him out.' Dat young fellow 'cided he would try it out and de next
+time Marster got atter him dey had a rukus what I ain't never gwine to
+forgit. Us was all out in de yard at de big house, skeered to git a good
+breath when us heared Marster tell him to do somepin, 'cause us knowed
+what he was meanin' to do. He didn't go right ahead and mind Marster lak
+he had allus been used to doin'. Marster called to him again, and den
+dat fool Nigger cut loose and he evermore did cuss Marster out. Lordy,
+Chile, Marster jus' fairly tuk de hide off dat Nigger's back. When he
+tried to talk to dat old slave 'bout it de old man laughed and said:
+'Shucks, I allus waits 'til I gits to de field to cuss Marster so he
+won't hear me.'
+
+"Marster didn't have but two boys and one of 'em got kilt in de war. Dat
+sho'ly did hurt our good old Marster, but dat was de onliest diffunce de
+war made on our place. When it was over and dey said us was free, all de
+slaves stayed right on wid de Marster; dat was all dey knowed to do.
+Marster told 'em dey could stay on jus' as long as dey wanted to, and
+dey was right dar on dat hill 'til Marster had done died out and gone to
+Glory.
+
+"Us chillun thought hog killin' time wes de best time of all de year. Us
+would hang 'round de pots whar dey was rendin' up de lard and all day us
+et dem good old browned skin cracklin's and ash roasted 'taters. Marster
+allus kilt from 50 to 60 hogs at a time. It tuk dat much meat to feed
+all de folks dat had to eat from his kitchen. Little chillun never had
+nothin' much to do 'cept eat and sleep and play, but now, jus' let me
+tell you for sho', dere warn't no runnin' 'round nights lak dey does
+now. Not long 'fore sundown dey give evvy slave chile a wooden bowl of
+buttermilk and cornpone and a wooden spoon to eat it wid. Us knowed us
+had to finish eatin' in time to be in bed by de time it got dark.
+
+"Our homespun dresses had plain waisties wid long skirts gathered on to
+'em. In hot weather chillun wore jus' one piece; dat was a plain slip,
+but in cold weather us had plenty of good warm clothes. Dey wove cotton
+and wool together to make warm cloth for our winter clothes and made
+shoes for us to wear in winter too. Marster evermore did believe in
+takin' good keer of his Niggers.
+
+"I kin ricollect dat 'fore dere was any churches right in our
+neighborhood, slaves would walk 8 and 10 miles to church. Dey would git
+up 'way 'fore dawn on meetin' day, so as to git dar on time. Us wouldn't
+wear our shoes on dem long walks, but jus' went barfoots 'til us got
+nearly to de meetin' house. I jus' kin 'member dat, for chillun warn't
+'lowed to try to walk dat fur a piece, but us could git up early in de
+mornin' and see de grown folks start off. Dey was dressed in deir best
+Sunday go-to-meetin' clothes and deir shoes, all shined up, was tied
+together and hung over deir shoulders to keep 'em from gittin' dust on
+'em. [HW in margin: Sunday clothing] Men folks had on plain homespun
+shirts and jeans pants. De jeans what deir pants was made out of was
+homespun too. Some of de 'omans wore homespun dresses, but most of 'em
+had a calico dress what was saved special for Sunday meetin' wear.
+'Omans wore two or three petticoats all ruffled and starched 'til one or
+dem underskirts would stand by itself. Dey went barfoots wid deir shoes
+hung over deir shoulders, jus' lak de mens, and evvy 'oman pinned up her
+dress and evvy one of her petticoats but one to keep 'em from gittin'
+muddy. Dresses and underskirts was made long enough to touch de ground
+dem days. Dey allus went off singin', and us chillun would be wishin'
+for de time when us would be old enough to wear long dresses wid
+starched petticoats and go to meetin'. Us chillun tried our best to stay
+'wake 'til dey got home so us could hear 'em talk 'bout de preachin' and
+singin' and testifyin' for de Lord, and us allus axed how many had done
+jined de church dat day.
+
+"Long 'fore I was old enough to make dat trip on foot, dey built a
+Baptist church nearby. It was de white folkses church, but dey let deir
+own Niggers join dar too, and how us chillun did love to play 'round it.
+No'm, us never broke out no windows or hurt nothin' playin' dar. Us
+warn't never 'lowed to throw no rocks when us was on de church grounds.
+De church was up on top of a high hill and at de bottom of dat hill was
+de creek whar de white folks had a fine pool for baptizin'. Dey had
+wooden steps to go down into it and a long wooden trough leadin' from de
+creek to fill up de pool whenever dere was baptizin' to be done. Dey had
+real sermons in dat church and folks come from miles around to see dem
+baptizin's. White folks was baptized fust and den de Niggers. When de
+time come for to baptize dem Niggers you could hear 'em singin' and
+shoutin' a long ways off.
+
+"It jus' don't seem lak folks has de same sort of 'ligion now dey had
+dem days, 'specially when somebody dies. Den de neighbors all went to de
+house whar de corpse was and sung and prayed wid de fambly. De coffins
+had to be made atter folks was done dead. Dey measured de corpse and
+made de coffin 'cordin'ly. Most of 'em was made out of plain pine wood,
+lined wid black calico, and sometimes dey painted 'em black on de
+outside. Dey didn't have no 'balmers on de plantations so dey couldn't
+keep dead folks out long; dey had to bury 'em de very next day atter dey
+died. Dey put de corpse in one wagon and de fambly rode in another, but
+all de other folks walked to de graveyard. When dey put de coffin in de
+grave dey didn't have no sep'rate box to place it in, but dey did lay
+planks 'cross de top of it 'fore de dirt was put in. De preacher said a
+prayer and de folks sung _Harps from de Tomb_. Maybe several months
+later dey would have de funeral preached some Sunday.
+
+"Us had all sorts of big doin's at harvest time. Dere was cornshuckin's,
+logrollin's, syrup makin's, and cotton pickin's. Dey tuk time about from
+one big plantation to another. Evvy place whar dey was a-goin' to
+celebrate tuk time off to cook up a lot of tasty eatments, 'specially to
+barbecue plenty of good meat. De Marsters at dem diffunt places allus
+seed dat dere was plenty of liquor passed 'round and when de wuk was
+done and de Niggers et all dey wanted, dey danced and played 'most all
+night. What us chillun laked most 'bout it was de eatin'. What I 'member
+best of all is de good old corn risin' lightbread. Did you ever see any
+of it, Chile? Why, my Mammy and Grandma Mary could bake dat bread so
+good it would jus' melt in your mouth.
+
+"Mammy died whilst I was still little and Daddy married again. I guess
+his second wife had a time wid all of us chillun. She tried to be good
+to us, but I was skeered of her for a long time atter she come to our
+cabin. She larnt me how to make my dresses, and de fust one I made all
+by myself was a long sight too big for me. I tried it on and was plumb
+sick 'bout it bein' so big, den she said; 'Never mind, you'll grow to
+it.' Let me tell you, I got dat dress off in a hurry 'cause I was 'most
+skeered to death for fear dat if I kept it on it would grow to my skin
+lak I thought she meant. [HW in margin: Humor] I never put dat dress on
+no more for a long time and dat was atter I found out dat she jus' meant
+dat my dress would fit me atter I had growed a little more.
+
+"All us chillun used to pick cotton for Marster, and he bought all our
+clothes and shoes. One day he told me and Mary dat us could go to de
+store and git us a pair of shoes apiece. 'Course us knowed what kind of
+shoes he meant for us to git, but Mary wanted a fine pair of Sunday
+shoes and dat's what she picked out and tuk home. Me, I got brass-toed
+brogans lak Marster meant for us to git. 'Bout half way home Mary put on
+her shoes and walked to de big house in 'em. When Marster seed 'em he
+was sho' mad as a hornet, but it was too late to take 'em back to de
+store atter de shoes had done been wore and was all scratched up.
+Marster fussed: 'Blast your hide, I'm a good mind to thrash you to
+death.' Mary stood dar shakin' and tremblin', but dat's all Marster ever
+said to her 'bout it. Us heared him tell Mist'ess dat dat gal Mary was a
+right smart Nigger.
+
+"Marster had a great big old bull dat was mighty mean. He had real long
+horns, and he could lift de fence railin's down one by one and turn all
+de cows out. Evvy time he got out he would fight us chillun, so Marster
+had to keep him fastened up in de stable. One day when us wanted to play
+in de stable, us turned Old Camel (dat was de bull) out in de pasture.
+He tuk down rails enough wid his horns to let de cows in Marster's fine
+gyarden and dey et it all up. Marster was wuss dan mad dat time, but us
+hid in de barn under some hay 'til he went to bed. Next mornin' he
+called us all up to git our whuppin', but us cried and said us wouldn't
+never do it no more so our good old Marster let us off dat time.
+
+"Lak I done said before, I stayed on dar 'til Marster died, den I
+married Matthew Hartsfield. Lordy, Chile, us didn't have no weddin'. I
+had on a new calico dress and Matthew wore some new blue jeans breeches.
+De Reverend Hargrove, de white folks preacher, married us and nobody
+didn't know nothin' 'bout it 'til it was all over. Us went to Oglethorpe
+County and lived dar 19 years 'fore Matthew died. I wuked wid white
+folks dar 'til I married up wid Ben Larken and us come on here to Athens
+to live. I have done some wuk for 'most all de white folks 'round here.
+Ben's grandpappy was a miller on Potts Creek, nigh Stephens, and
+sometimes Ben used to have to go help him out wid de wuk, atter he got
+old and feeble.
+
+"Dey's all gone now and 'cept for some nieces, I'm left all alone. I kin
+still mind de chillun and even do a little wuk. For dat I do give thanks
+to de Good Lord--dat he keeps me able to do some wuk.
+
+"Goodbye Chile," said Julia, when her visitor arose to leave. "You must
+be more keerful 'bout walkin' 'round when de sun is too hot. It'll make
+you sick sho'. Folks jus' don't know how to take de right sort of keer
+of deyselves dese days."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5
+Ex-Slave #67
+E.F. Driskell
+12/31/36]
+
+[HW: GEORGE LEWIS]
+[Date Stamp: MAY 2- --]
+
+
+Mr. George Lewis was born in Pensacola, Florida December 17, 1849. In
+addition to himself and his parents, Sophie and Charles Lewis, there
+were thirteen other children; two of whom were girls. Mr. Lewis (Geo.)
+was the third eldest child.
+
+Although married Mr. Lewis' parents belonged to different owners.
+However, Dr. Brosenhan often allowed his servant to visit his wife on
+the plantation of her owner, Mrs. Caroline Bright.
+
+In regard to work all of the members of the Lewis clan fared very well.
+The father, who belonged to Dr. Brosenhan, was a skilled shipbuilder and
+he was permitted to hire himself out to those needing his services. He
+was also allowed to hire [HW: out] those children belonging to him who
+were old enough to work. He was only required to pay his master and the
+mistress of his children a certain percent of his earnings. On the
+Bright plantation Mrs. Lewis served as maid and as part of her duties
+she had to help with the cooking. Mr. Lewis and his brothers and sisters
+were never required to do very much work. Most of their time was spent
+in playing around in the yard of the big house.
+
+In answer to a query concerning the work requirements of the other
+slaves on this particular plantation Mr. Lewis replied "De sun would
+never ketch dem at de house. By de time it wus up dey had done got to de
+fiel'--not jes gwine. I've known men to have to wait till it wus bright
+enough to see how to plow without "kivering" the plants up. Dey lef' so
+early in de mornings dat breakfus' had to be sent to dem in de fiel'. De
+chillun was de ones who carried de meals dere. Dis was de first job dat
+I had. All de pails wus put on a long stick an' somebody hold to each
+end of de stick. If de fiel' hands was too far away fum de house at
+dinner time it was sent to dem de same as de breakfus'".
+
+All of the slaves on the plantation were awakened each morning by a
+bugle or a horn which was blown by the overseer. The same overseer gave
+the signal for dinner hour by blowing on the same horn. All were usually
+given one hour for dinner. None had to do any work after leaving the
+fields unless it happened to be personal work. No work other than the
+caring for the stock was required on Sundays.
+
+A few years before the Civil War Mrs. Bright married a Dr. Bennett
+Ferrel and moved to his home in Georgia (Troupe County).
+
+Mr. Lewis states that he and his fellow slaves always had "pretty fair"
+food. Before they moved to Georgia the rations were issued daily and for
+the most part an issue consisted of vegetables, rice, beans, meat
+(pork), all kinds of fish and grits, etc.
+
+"We got good clothes too says Mr. Lewis. All of 'em was bought. All de
+chillun wore a long shirt until dey wus too big an' den dey was given
+pants an' dresses. De shoes wus made out of red leather an' wus called
+brogans. After we moved to Georgia our new marster bought de cloth an'
+had all de clothes made on de plantation. De food wus "pretty fair" here
+too. We got corn bread an' biscuit sometimes--an' it was sometimes
+too--bacon, milk, all kinds of vegetables an' sicha stuff like dat. De
+flour dat we made de biscuits out of was de third grade shorts."
+
+The food on Sunday was almost identical with that eaten during the week.
+However, those who desired to were allowed to hunt as much as they
+pleased to at night. They were not permitted to carry guns and so when
+the game was treed the tree had to be cut down in order to get it. It
+was in this way that the family larder was increased.
+
+"All in all", says Mr. Lewis, "we got everything we wanted excep' dere
+wus no money comin' for our work an' we couldn't go off de place unless
+we asked. If you wus caught off your plantation without a permit fum
+marster de Paddy-Rollers whupped you an' sent you home."
+
+The slaves living quarters were located in the rear of the "big house"
+(this was true of the plantation located in Pensacola as well as the one
+in Georgia). All were made of logs and, according to Mr. Lewis, all were
+substantially built. Wooden pegs were used in the place of nails and the
+cracks left in the walls were sealed with mud and sticks. These cabins
+were very comfortable and only one family was allowed to a cabin. All
+floors were of wood. The only furnishings were the beds and one or two
+benches or bales which served as chairs. In some respects these beds
+resembled a scaffold nailed to the side of a house. Others were made of
+heavy wood and had four legs to stand upon. For the most part, however,
+one end of the bed was nailed to the wall. The mattresses were made out
+of any kind of material that a slave could secure, burlap sacks,
+ausenberg, etc. After a large bag had been made with this material it
+was stuffed with straw. Heavy cord running from side to side was used
+for the bed springs. The end of the cord was tied to a handle at the end
+of the bed. This pemitted the occupant to tighten the cord when it
+became loosened. A few cooking utensils completed the furnishings. All
+illumination was secured by means of the door and the open fire place.
+
+All of the slaves on the plantation were permitted to "frolic" whenever
+they wanted to and for as long a time as they wanted to. The master gave
+them all of the whiskey that they desired. One of the main times for a
+frolic was during a corn shucking. At each frolic there was dancing,
+fiddling, and eating. The next morning, however all had to be prepared
+to report as usual to the fields.
+
+All were required to attend church each Sunday. The same church was used
+by the slave owners and their slaves. The owners attended church in the
+morning at eleven o'clock and the slaves attended at three o'clock. A
+white minister did all of the preaching. "De bigges' sermon he
+preached", says Mr. Lewis, "was to read de Bible an' den tell us to be
+smart an' not to steal chickens, eggs, an' butter, fum our marsters."
+All baptising was done by this selfsame minister.
+
+When a couple wished to marry the man secured the permission of his
+intended wife's owner and if he consented, a broom was placed on the
+floor and the couple jumped over it and were then pronounced man and
+wife.
+
+There was not a great deal of whipping on the plantation of Dr. Ferrel
+but at such times all whippings were administered by one of the
+overseers employed on the plantation. Mr. Lewis himself was only whipped
+once and then by the Doctor. This was just a few days before the slaves
+were freed. Mr. Lewis says that the doctor came to the field one morning
+and called him. He told him that they were going to be freed but that
+before he did free him he was going to let him see what it was like to
+be whipped by a white man, and he proceeded to paddle him with a white
+oak paddle.
+
+When there was serious illness the slaves had the attention of Dr.
+Ferrel. On other occasions the old remedy of castor oil and turpentine
+was administered. There was very little sickness then according to Mr.
+Lewis. Most every family kept a large pot of "Bitters" (a mixture of
+whiskey and tree barks) and each morning every member of the family took
+a drink from this bucket. This supposedly prevented illness.
+
+When the war broke out Mr. Lewis says that he often heard the old folks
+whispering among themselves at night. Several times he saw the Northern
+troops as well as the Southern troops but he dos'nt know whether they
+were going or coming from the scene of the fighting. Doctor Ferrel
+joined the army but on three different occasions he deserted. Before
+going to war Dr. Ferrel called Mr. Lewis to him and after giving him his
+favorite horse gave him the following "charge" "Don't let the Yankees
+get him". Every morning Mr. Lewis would take the horse to the woods
+where he hid with him all day. On several occasions Dr. Ferrel slipped
+back to his home to see if the horse was being properly cared for. All
+of the other valuables belongings to the Ferrels were hidden also.
+
+All of the slaves on the plantation were glad when they were told that
+they were free but there was no big demonstration as they were somewhat
+afraid of what the Master might do. Some of them remained on the
+plantation while others of them left as soon as they were told that they
+were free.
+
+Several months after freedom was declared Mr. Lewis' father was able to
+join his family which he had not seen since they had moved to Georgia.
+
+When asked his opinion of slavery and of freedom Mr. Lewis said that he
+would rather be free because to a certain degree he is able to do as he
+pleases, on the other hand he did not have to worry about food and
+shelter as a slave as he has to do now at times.
+
+
+
+
+INTERVIEW WITH:
+MIRRIAM McCOMMONS, Age 76
+164 Augusta Avenue
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Miss Grace McCune
+Research Worker
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: APR 29 1938]
+
+
+It was a bright sunny day when the interviewer stopped at the home of
+Aunt Merry, as she is called, and found her tending her old-fashioned
+flower garden. The old Negress was tired and while resting she talked of
+days long passed and of how things have changed since she was "a little
+gal."
+
+"My pa wuz William Young, and he belonged to old Marse Wylie Young and
+later to young Marse Mack Young, a son of old marster. Pa wuz born in
+1841, and he died in 1918.
+
+"Ma wuz Lula Lumpkin, and she belonged to Marse Jack Lumpkin. I forgits
+de year, but she wuz jus' 38 years old when she died. Ma's young mistis
+wuz Miss Mirriam Lumpkin, and she wuz sho' good ter my ma. I 'members,
+'cause I seed her lots of times. She married Marse William Nichols, and
+she ain't been dead many years.
+
+"I wuz born at Steebens (Stephens), Georgia, in 1862 at seben 'clock in
+de mornin' on de 27th day of April. Yassum, I got here in time for
+breakfast. Dey named me Mirriam Young. When I wuz 'bout eight years old,
+us moved on de Bowling Green road dat runs to Lexin'ton, Georgia. Us
+stayed dar 'til I wuz 'bout 10 years old, den us moved to de old
+Hutchins place. I wukked in de field wid my pa 'til I wuz 'bout 'leben
+years old. Den ma put me out to wuk. I wukked for 25 dollars a year and
+my schoolin'. Den I nussed for Marse George Rice in Hutchins, Georgia. I
+think Marse George and his twin sister stays in Lexin'ton now. When I
+wuz twelve, I went to wuk for Marse John I. Callaway. Ma hired me for de
+same pay, 25 dollars a year and my schoolin'.
+
+"Missus Callaway sho' wuz good to me. Sha larnt me my books--readin' and
+writin'--and sewin', knittin', and crochetin'. I still got some of de
+wuk dat she larnt me to do." At this point Aunt Merry proudly displayed
+a number of articles that she had crocheted and knitted. All were
+fashioned after old patterns and showed fine workmanship. "Mistis larnt
+me to be neat and clean in evvything I done, and I would walk 'long de
+road a-knittin' and nebber miss a stitch. I just bet none of dese young
+folkses now days could do dat. Dey sho' don't do no wuk, just run 'round
+all de time, day and night. I don't know what'll 'come of 'em, lessen
+dey change deir ways.
+
+"Whilst I wuz still nussin' Missis' little gal and baby boy dey went
+down to Buffalo Crick to stay, and dey give me a pretty gray mare. She
+wuz all mine and her name wuz Lucy.
+
+"I tuk de chillun to ride evvy day and down at de crick, I pulled off
+dey clo'es and baptized 'em, in de water. I would wade out in de crick
+wid 'em, and say: 'I baptizes you in de name of de Fadder and de Son and
+de Holy Ghost.' Den I would souse 'em under de water. I didn't know
+nobody wuz seein' me, but one mornin' Missis axed me 'bout it and I
+thought she mought be mad but she just laughed and said dat hit mought
+be good for 'em, 'cause she 'spect dey needed baptizin', but to be
+keerful, for just on t'other side of de rock wuz a hole dat didn't have
+no bottom.
+
+"Dere wuz just two things on de place dat I wuz 'fraid of, and one wuz
+de big registered bull dat Marster had paid so much money for. He sho'
+wuz bad, and when he got out, us all stayed in de house 'til dey cotched
+'im. Marster had a big black stallion dat cost lots of money. He wuz bad
+too, but Marster kept 'im shut up most of de time. De wust I ever wuz
+skeert wuz de time I wuz takin' de baby to ride horseback. When one of
+de Nigger boys on de place started off on Marster's horse, my mare
+started runnin' and I couldn't stop 'er. She runned plumb away wid me,
+and when de boy cotched us, I wuz holdin' de baby wid one hand and de
+saddle wid t'other.
+
+"I sho' did have a big time once when us went to Atlanta. De place whar
+us stayed wuz 'bout four miles out, whar Kirkwood is now, and it
+belonged to Mrs. Robert A. Austin. She wuz a widder 'oman. She had a gal
+name' Mary and us chillun used to play together. It wuz a pretty place
+wid great big yards, and de mostes' flowers. Us used to go into Atlanta
+on de six 'clock 'commodation, and come home on de two 'clock
+'commodation, but evvythings changed now.
+
+"At de Callaway place us colored folks had big suppers and all day
+dinners, wid plenty to eat--chicken, turkey, and 'possum, and all de
+hogs us wanted. But dere warnt no dancin' or fightin', 'cause old Missis
+sho' didn't 'low dat.
+
+"I married when I wuz sebenteen. I didn't have no weddin'. I wuz just
+married by de preacher to Albert McCommons, at Hutchins. Us stayed at
+Steebens 'bout one year after us married and den come to Athens, whar I
+stays now. I ain't never had but two chillun; dey wuz twins, one died,
+but my boy is wid me now.
+
+"I used to nuss Miss Calline Davis, and she done got married and left
+here, but I still hears from 'er. She done married one of dem northern
+mens, Mr. Hope. I 'members one time whilst dey wuz visitin' I stayed wid
+'em to nuss deir baby. One of Mr. Hope's friends from New York wuz wid
+'em. When dey got to de train to go home, Miss Calline kissed me
+good-bye and de yankee didn't know what to say. Miss Calline say de
+yankees 'low dat southern folks air mean to us Niggers and just beat us
+all de time. Dey just don't know 'cause my white folkses wuz all good to
+me, and I loves 'em all."
+
+As the interviewer left, Aunt Merry followed her into the yard asking
+for a return visit and promising to tell more, "bout my good white
+folkses."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE
+
+As viewed by
+ED McCREE, Age 76
+543 Reese 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
+
+
+Ed McCree's home was pointed out by a little albino Negro girl about 10
+years old. The small front yard was gay with snapdragons, tiger lilies,
+dahlias, and other colorful flowers, and the two-story frame house,
+painted gray with white trimmings seemed to be in far better repair than
+the average Negro residence.
+
+Chewing on a cud of tobacco, Ed answered the knock on his front door.
+"Good evenin' Lady," he said. "Have a cheer on de porch whar it's cool."
+Ed is about five feet, six inches in height, and on this afternoon he
+was wearing a blue striped shirt, black vest, gray pants and black
+shoes. His gray hair was topped by a soiled gray hat.
+
+Nett, his wife, came hobbling out on the porch and sat down to listen to
+the conversation. At first the old man was reluctant to talk of his
+childhood experiences, but his interest was aroused by questioning and
+soon he began to eagerly volunteer his memories. He had just had his
+noon meal and now and then would doze a little, but was easily aroused
+when questions called him back to the subject.
+
+"I was borned in Oconee County," he said, "jus' below Watkinsville. My
+Ma and Pa was Louisa and Henry McCree, but Old Marster called Pa 'Sherm'
+for short. Far as I ever heared, my Ma and Pa was borned and brung up
+right dar in Oconee County. Dere was six of us chillun: Silas, Lumpkin,
+Bennie, Lucy, Babe, and me. Babe, she was borned a long time atter de
+war.
+
+"Little Niggers, what was too young to wuk in de fields, toted water to
+de field hands and waited on de old 'omans what was too old to wuk in de
+craps. Dem old 'omans looked atter de babies and piddled 'round de
+yards.
+
+"Slave quarters was lots of log cabins wid chimlies of criss-crossed
+sticks and mud. Pore white folks lived in houses lak dat too. Our bed
+was made wid high posties and had cords, what run evvy which a-way, for
+springs. 'Course dey had to be wound tight to keep dem beds from fallin'
+down when you tried to git in 'em. For mattresses, de 'omans put wheat
+straw in ticks made out of coarse cloth wove right dar on de plantation,
+and de pillows was made de same way. Ole Miss, she let her special
+favorite Niggers, what wuked up at de big house, have feather mattresses
+and pillows. Dem other Niggers shined dey eyes over dat, but dere warn't
+nothin' dey could do 'bout it 'cept slip 'round and cut dem feather beds
+and pillows open jus' to see de feathers fly. Kivver was 'lowanced out
+evvy year to de ones what needed it most. In dat way dere was allus good
+kivver for evvybody.
+
+"Grandma Liza b'longed to Marse Calvin Johnson long 'fore Marse John
+McCree buyed her. She was cook at de big house. Grandpa Charlie, he
+b'longed to Marse Charlie Hardin, but atter him and Grandma married, she
+still went by de name of McCree.
+
+"Lawdy Miss! Who ever heared of folks payin' slaves to wuk? Leastwise, I
+never knowed 'bout none of 'em on our place gittin' money for what dey
+done. 'Course dey give us plenty of somepin' t'eat and clothes to wear,
+and den dey made us keep a-humpin' it. I does 'member seein' dem paper
+nickels, dimes, and quarters what us chillun played wid atter de war. Us
+used to pretend us was rich wid all dat old money what warn't no good
+den.
+
+"'Bout dem eatments, Miss, it was lek dis, dere warn't no fancy victuals
+lak us thinks us got to have now, but what dere was, dere was plenty of.
+Most times dere was poke sallet, turnip greens, old blue head collards,
+cabbages, peas, and 'taters by de wholesale for de slaves to eat and,
+onct a week, dey rationed us out wheat bread, syrup, brown sugar, and
+ginger cakes. What dey give chillun de most of was potlicker poured over
+cornbread crumbs in a long trough. For fresh meat, outside of killin' a
+shoat, a lamb, or a kid now and den, slaves was 'lowed to go huntin' a
+right smart and dey fotch in a good many turkles (turtles), 'possums,
+rabbits, and fish. Folks didn't know what iron cookstoves was dem days.
+Leastwise, our white folks didn't have none of 'em. All our cookin' was
+done in open fireplaces in big old pots and pans. Dey had thick iron
+skillets wid heavy lids on 'em, and dey could bake and fry too in dem
+skillets. De meats, cornbread, biscuits, and cakes what was cooked in
+dem old skillets was sho' mighty good.
+
+"De cotton, flax, and wool what our clothes was made out of was growed,
+spun, wove, and sewed right dar on our plantation. Marse John had a
+reg'lar seamster what didn't do nothin' else but sew. Summertime us
+chillun wore shirts what looked lak nightgowns. You jus' pulled one of
+dem slips over your haid and went on 'cause you was done dressed for de
+whole week, day and night. Wintertime our clothes was a heap better. Dey
+give us thick jeans pants, heavy shirts, and brogan shoes wid brass
+toes. Summertime us all went bar'foots.
+
+"Old Marster John McCree was sho' a good white man, I jus' tells you de
+truf, 'cause I ain't in for tellin' nothin' else. I done jus' plum
+forgot Ole Miss' fust name, and I can't git up de chilluns' names no
+way. I didn't play 'round wid 'em much nohow. Dey was jus' little young
+chillun den anyhow. Dey lived in a big old plank house--nothin' fine
+'bout it. I 'members de heavy timbers was mortised together and de other
+lumber was put on wid pegs; dere warn't no nails 'bout it. Dat's all I
+ricollects 'bout dat dere house right now. It was jus' a common house,
+I'd say.
+
+"Dere was a thousand or more acres in dat old plantation. It sho' was a
+big piece of land, and it was plumb full of Niggers--I couldn't say how
+many, 'cause I done forgot. You could hear dat bugle de overseer blowed
+to wake up de slaves for miles and miles. He got 'em up long 'fore sunup
+and wuked 'em in de fields long as dey could see how to wuk. Don't talk
+'bout dat overseer whuppin' Niggers. He beat on 'em for most anything.
+What would dey need no jail for wid dat old overseer a-comin' down on
+'em wid dat rawhide bull-whup?
+
+"If dey got any larnin', it was at night. Dere warn't no school 'ouse or
+no church on dat plantation for Niggers. Slaves had to git a pass when
+dey wanted to go to church. Sometimes de white preacher preached to de
+Niggers, but most of de time a Nigger wid a good wit done de preachin'.
+Dat Nigger, he sho' couldn't read nary a word out of de Bible. At de
+baptizin's was when de Nigger boys shined up to de gals. Dey dammed up
+de crick to make de water deep enough to duck 'em under good and, durin'
+de service, dey sung: _It's de Good Old Time Religion_.
+
+"When folks died den, Niggers for miles and miles around went to de
+funeral. Now days dey got to know you mighty well if dey bothers to go a
+t'all. Dem days folks was buried in homemade coffins. Some of dem
+coffins was painted and lined wid cloth and some warn't. De onliest song
+I ricollects 'em singin' at buryin's was: _Am I Born to Lay Dis Body
+Down_? Dey didn't dig graves lak dey does now. Dey jus' dug straight
+down to 'bout five feet, den dey cut a vault to fit de coffin in de side
+of de grave. Dey didn't put no boards or nothin' over de coffins to keep
+de dirt off.
+
+"'Bout dem patterollers! Well, you knowed if dey cotched you out widout
+no pass, dey was gwine to beat your back most off and send you on home.
+One night my Pa 'lowed he would go to see his gal. All right, he went.
+When he got back, his cabin door was fastened hard and fast. He was
+a-climbin' in de window when de patterollers got to him. Dey 'lowed:
+'Nigger, is you got a pass?' Pa said: 'No Sir.' Den dey said: 'Us can't
+beat you 'cause you done got home on your marster's place, but us is
+sho' gwine to tell your Marster to whup your hide off. But Old Marster
+never tetched him for dat.
+
+"Atter dey come in from de fields, dem Niggers et deir supper, went to
+deir cabins, sot down and rested a little while, and den dey drapped
+down on de beds to sleep. Dey didn't wuk none Sadday atter dinner in de
+fields. Dat was wash day for slave 'omans. De mens done fust one thing
+and den another. Dey cleant up de yards, chopped wood, mended de
+harness, sharpened plow points, and things lak dat. Sadday nights, Old
+Marster give de young folks passes so dey could go from one place to
+another a-dancin' and a-frolickin' and havin' a big time gen'ally. Dey
+done most anything dey wanted to on Sundays, so long as dey behaved
+deyselfs and had deir passes handy to show if de patterollers bothered
+'em.
+
+"Yessum, slaves sho' looked forward to Christmas times. Dere was such
+extra good eatin's dat week and so much of 'em. Old Marster had 'em kill
+a plenty of shoats, lambs, kids, cows, and turkeys for fresh meat. De
+'omans up at de big house was busy for a week ahead cookin' peach puffs,
+'tater custards, and plenty of cakes sweetened wid brown sugar and
+syrup. Dere was plenty of home-made candy for de chilluns' Santa Claus
+and late apples and peaches had done been saved and banked in wheat
+straw to keep 'em good 'til Christmas. Watermelons was packed away in
+cottonseed and when dey cut 'em open on Christmas Dey, dey et lak fresh
+melons in July. Us had a high old time for a week, and den on New Year's
+Day dey started back to wuk.
+
+"Come winter, de mens had big cornshuckin's and dere was quiltin's for
+de 'omans. Dere was a row of corn to be shucked as long as from here to
+Milledge Avenue. Old Marster put a gang of Niggers at each end of de row
+and it was a hot race 'tween dem gangs to see which could git to de
+middle fust. Dere was allus a big feast waitin' for 'em when de last ear
+of corn was shucked. 'Bout dem quiltin's!" Now Lady, what would a old
+Nigger man know 'bout somepin' dat didn't nothin' but 'omans have
+nothin' to do wid?
+
+"Dem cotton pickin's was grand times. Dey picked cotton in de moonlight
+and den had a big feast of barbecued beef, mutton, and pork washed down
+wid plenty of good whiskey. Atter de feast was over, some of dem Niggers
+played fiddles and picked banjoes for de others to dance down 'til dey
+was wore out.
+
+"When slaves got sick, our white folks was mighty good 'bout havin' 'em
+keered for. Dey dosed 'em up wid oil and turpentine and give 'em teas
+made out of hoarhound for some mis'ries and bone-set for other troubles.
+Most all the slaves wore a sack of assfiddy (asafetida) 'round deir
+necks all de time to keep 'em from gittin' sick.
+
+"It was a happy day for us slaves when news come dat de war was over and
+de white folks had to turn us 'loose. Marster called his Niggers to come
+up to de big house yard, but I never stayed 'round to see what he had to
+say. I runned 'round dat place a-shoutin' to de top of my voice. My
+folks stayed on wid Old Marster for 'bout a year or more. If us had
+left, it would have been jus' lak swappin' places from de fryin' pan to
+de fire, 'cause Niggers didn't have no money to buy no land wid for a
+long time atter de war. Schools was soon scattered 'bout by dem Yankees
+what had done sot us free. I warn't big enough den to do nothin' much
+'cept tote water to de field and chop a little cotton.
+
+"Me and Nettie Freeman married a long time atter de war. At our weddin'
+I wore a pair of brown jeans pants, white shirt, white vest, and a
+cutaway coat. Nettie wore a black silk dress what she had done bought
+from Miss Blanche Rutherford. Pears lak to me it had a overskirt of blue
+what was scalloped 'round de bottom."
+
+At this point, Nettie, who had been an interested listener, was
+delighted. She broke into the conversation with: "Ed, you sho' did take
+in dat dress and you ain't forgot it yit."
+
+"You is right 'bout dat, Honey," he smilingly replied, "I sho' ain't and
+I never will forgit how you looked dat day."
+
+"Miss Blanche give me a pair of white silk gloves to wear wid dat
+dress," mused Nettie.
+
+"Us didn't have no sho' 'nough weddin'," continued Ed. "Us jus' went off
+to de preacher man's house and got married up together. I sho' is glad
+my Nett is still a-livin', even if she is down wid de rheumatiz."
+
+"I'm glad I'm livin' too," Nettie said with a chuckle.
+
+Ed ignored the question as to the number of their children and Nettie
+made no attempt to take further part in the conversation. There is a
+deep seated idea prevalent among old people of this type that if the
+"giver'ment folks" learn that they have able-bodied children, their
+pensions and relief allowances will be discontinued.
+
+Soon Ed was willing to talk again. "Yessum," he said. "I sho' had ruther
+be free. I don't never want to be a slave no more. Now if me and Nett
+wants to, us can set around and not fix and eat but one meal all day
+long. If us don't want to do dat, us can do jus' whatsomever us pleases.
+Den, us had to wuk whether us laked it or not.
+
+"Lordy Miss, I ain't never jined up wid no church. I ain't got no reason
+why, only I jus' ain't never had no urge from inside of me to jine.
+'Course, you know, evvybody ought to lissen to de services in de church
+and live right and den dey wouldn't be so skeered to die. Miss, ain't
+you through axin' me questions yit? I is so sleepy, and I don't know no
+more to tell you. Goodbye."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex Slave #68]
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:
+LUCY McCULLOUGH, Age 79
+
+BY: SARAH H. HALL
+ATHENS, GA.
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+[TR: This first half of this interview was edited by hand to change many
+'er' sounds to 'uh', for example, 'der' to 'duh', 'ter' to 'tuh'; as a
+single word, 'er' was also changed to 'a'.]
+
+
+"Does Ah 'member 'bout war time, en dem days fo' de war? Yassum, Ah sho'
+does. Ah blong ter Marse Ned Carter in Walton county."
+
+"Whut Ah 'members mos' is duh onliest beatin' Ah ebber got fum de
+overseer on Marse Ned's place. De hawgs wuz dyin' moughty bad wid
+cholry, en Marse Ned hed 'is mens drag evvy dead hawg off in de woods
+'en bun 'em up ter keep de cholry fum spreadin' mongst de udder hawgs.
+De mens wuz keerless 'bout de fire, en fo' long de woods wuz on fire, en
+de way dat fire spread in dem dry grape vines in de woods mek it 'peer
+lak jedgment day tuh us chilluns. Us run 'bout de woods lookin' at de
+mens fight de fire, en evvy time we see uh new place a-blaze we run dis
+way en dat way, twel fus' thing us knows, we is plum off Marse Ned's
+plantation, en us doan rightly know whar us is. Us play 'roun' in de
+woods en arter while Marse Ned's overseer cum fine us, en he druv us
+back tuh de big house yahd en give evvy one uv us uh good beaten'. Ah
+sho' wuz black en blue, en Ah nebber did fuhgit en run offen Marse Ned's
+lan' no mo' lessen I hed uh pass."
+
+"Mah mammy, she wuz cook at duh big house, en Ah wuz raised dah in de
+kitchen en de back yahd at de big house. Ah wuz tuh be uh maid fer de
+ladies in de big house. De house servants hold that dey is uh step
+better den de field niggers. House servants wuz niggah quality folks."
+
+Ah mus' not a been mo' en thee uh fo' yeahs ole when Miss Millie cum out
+in de kitchen one day, en 'gin tuh scold my mammy 'bout de sorry way
+mammy done clean de chitlins. Ah ain' nebber heard nobuddy fuss et my
+mammy befo'. Little ez Ah wuz, Ah swell up en rar' back, en I sez tuh
+Miss Millie, "Doan you no' Mammy is boss uh dis hyar kitchen. You cyan'
+cum a fussin' in hyar." "Miss Millie, she jus laff, but Mammy grab a
+switch en 'gin ticklin' my laigs, but Miss Millie mek her quit it." "Who
+wuz Miss Millie? Why, she wuz Marse Ned's wife."
+
+"Whilst Marse Ned wuz 'way at de war, bad sojer mens cum thoo de
+country. Miss Millie done hyar tell dey wuz on de way, an she had de
+mens haul all Marse Ned's cotton off in de woods en hide it. De waggins
+wuz piled up high wid cotton, en de groun' wuz soft atter de rain. De
+waggins leff deep ruts in de groun', but none us folks on de plantation
+pay no heed ter dem ruts. When de sojer mens cum, dey see dem ruts en
+trail 'em right out dar in de woods ter de cotton. Den dey sot fire ter
+de cotton en bun it all up. Dey cum back ter de big house en take all de
+sweet milk in de dairy house, en help 'emselfs ter evvy thing in de
+smoke houses. Den dey pick out de stronges' er Marse Ned's slave mens en
+take 'em 'way wid 'em. Dey take evvy good horse Marse Ned had on de
+plantation. No Ma'am, dey diden' bun nuffin ceppen' de cotton."
+
+"Us wuz mo' skeered er patter-rollers den any thing else. Patter-rollers
+diden' bodder folks much, lessen dey caught 'em offen dar marsters
+plantations en dey diden' hab no pass. One night en durin' de war, de
+patter-rollers cum ter our cabin, en I scrooge down under de kiver in de
+bed. De patter-roller man tho' de kiver offen mah face, en he see me
+blong dar, en he let me be, but Ah wuz skeered plumb ter death. Courtin'
+folks got ketched en beat up by de patter-rollers mo' den enny buddy
+else, kazen dey wuz allus slippen' out fer ter meet one er nudder at
+night."
+
+"When folks dat lived on diffunt plantations, en blonged ter diffunt
+marsters wanted ter git married, dey hed ter ax both dar marsters fus'.
+Den effen dar marsters 'gree on it, dey let 'em marry. De mans marster
+'ud give de man er pass so he cud go see his wife et night, but he sho'
+better be back on his own marsters farm when de bell ring evvy morning.
+De chilluns 'ud blong ter de marster dat own de 'oman."
+
+"Black folks wuz heap smarter den dey is now. Dem days de 'omans knowed
+how ter cyard, en spin, en weave de cloff, en dey made de close. De mens
+know how ter mek shoes ter wear den. Black folks diden' hev ter go cole
+er hongry den, kaze dey marsters made 'em wuk en grow good crops, en den
+der marsters fed 'em plenty en tuk keer uv 'em."
+
+"Black folks wuz better folks den dey is now. Dey knowed dey hed ter be
+good er dey got beat. De gals dey diden't sho' dare laigs lak dey do
+now. Cloff hed ter be made den, en hit wuz er heap mo' trouble ter mek
+er yahd er cloff, den it is ter buy it now, but 'omans en gals, dey
+stayed kivvered up better den. Why, Ah 'member one time my mammy seed me
+cummin' crost de yahd en she say mah dress too short. She tuk it offen
+me, en rip out de hem, en ravel at de aig' er little, en den fus' thing
+I knows, she got dat dress tail on ter de loom, en weave more cloff on
+hit, twel it long enuf, lak she want it."
+
+"Long 'bout dat time dey wuz killin' hawgs on de plantation, en it wuz
+er moughty cole day. Miss Millie, she tell me fer ter tote dis quart er
+brandy out dar fer ter warm up de mens dat wuz er wukkin in de cole
+win'. 'Long de way, Ah keep er sippin' dat brandy, en time Ah got ter de
+hawg killin' place Ah wuz crazy drunk en tryin' ter sing. Dat time
+'twon't no overseer beat me. Dem slave mens beat me den fo' drinkin' dat
+likker."
+
+"Mah folks stayed on en wukked fo' Marse Ned long atter de war. When Ah
+wuz mos' grown mah fam'ly moved ter Logansville. No, Ma'am, I ain't
+nebber been so free en happy es when I diden' hev ter worry 'bout whar
+de vittles en close gwine cum fum, en all Ah had ter do wuz wuk evvy day
+lak mah whitefolks tole me."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5 (Driskell)
+Ex Slave #69]
+
+AMANDA MCDANIEL, 80 yrs old
+Ex-slave
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Among these few remaining persons who have lived long enough to tell of
+some of their experiences during the reign of "King Slavery" in the
+United States is one Mrs. Amanda McDaniel.
+
+As she sat on the porch in the glare of the warm October sun she
+presented a perfect picture of the old Negro Mammy commonly seen during
+the days of slavery. She smiled as she expectorated a large amount of
+the snuff she was chewing and began her story in the following manner:
+"I was born in Watsonville, Georgia in 1850. My mother's name was
+Matilda Hale and my father was Gilbert Whitlew. My mother and father
+belonged to different master's, but the plantations that they lived on
+were near each other and so my father was allowed to visit us often. My
+mother had two other girls who were my half-sisters. You see--my mother
+was sold to the speculator in Virginia and brought to Georgia where she
+was sold to Mr. Hale, who was our master until freedom was declared.
+When she was sold to the speculator the two girls who were my
+half-sisters had to be sold with her because they were too young to be
+separated from their mother. My father, Gilbert Whitlew, was my mother's
+second husband.
+
+"Mr. Hale, our master, was not rich like some of the other planters in
+the community. His plantation was a small one and he only had eight
+servants who were all women. He wasn't able to hire an overseer and all
+of the heavy work such as the plowing was done by his sons. Mrs. Hale
+did all of her own cooking and that of the slaves too. In all Mr. Hale
+had eleven children. I had to nurse three of them before I was old
+enough to go to the field to work."
+
+When asked to tell about the kind of work the slaves had to do Mrs.
+McDaniel said: "Our folks had to get up at four o'clock every morning
+and feed the stock first. By the time it was light enough to see they
+had to be in the fields where they hoed the cotton and the corn as well
+as the other crops. Between ten and eleven o'clock everybody left the
+field and went to the house where they worked until it was too dark to
+see. My first job was to take breakfast to those working in the fields.
+I used buckets for this. Besides this I had to drive the cows to and
+from the pasture. The rest of the day was spent in taking care of Mrs.
+Hale's young children. After a few years of this I was sent to the
+fields where I planted peas, corn, etc. I also had to pick cotton when
+that time came, but I never had to hoe and do the heavy work like my
+mother and sisters did." According to Mrs. McDaniel they were seldom
+required to work at night after they had left the fields but when such
+occasions did arise they were usually in the form of spinning thread and
+weaving cloth. During the winter months this was the only type of work
+that they did. On days when the weather was too bad for work out of
+doors they shelled the corn and peas and did other minor types of work
+not requiring too much exposure. Nobody had to work on Saturday
+afternoons or on Sundays. It was on Saturdays or at night that the
+slaves had the chance to do their own work such as the repairing of
+clothing, etc.
+
+On the Hale plantation clothing was issued two times each year, once at
+the beginning of summer and again at the beginning of the winter season.
+On this first issue all were given striped dresses made of cotton
+material. These dresses were for wear during the week while dresses made
+of white muslin were given for Sunday wear. The dye which was necessary
+in order to color those clothes worn during the week was made by boiling
+red dirt or the bark of trees in water. Sometimes the indigo berry was
+also used. The winter issue consisted of dresses made of woolen
+material. The socks and stockings were all knitted. All of this wearing
+apparel was made by Mrs. Hale. The shoes that these women slaves wore
+were made in the nearby town at a place known as the tan yards. These
+shoes were called "Brogans" and they were very crude in construction
+having been made of very stiff leather. None of the clothing that was
+worn on this plantation was bought as everything necessary for the
+manufacture of clothing was available on the premises.
+
+As has been previously stated, Mrs. Hale did all of the cooking on the
+plantation with the possible exception of Sundays when the slaves cooked
+for themselves. During the week their diet usually consisted of corn
+bread, fat meat, vegetables, milk, and potliquor. The food that they ate
+on Sunday was practically the same. All the food that they ate was
+produced in the master's garden and there was a sufficient amount for
+everyone at all times.
+
+There were two one-room log cabins in the rear of the master's house.
+These cabins were dedicated to slave use. Mrs. McDaniel says: "The
+floors were made of heavy wooden planks. At one end of the cabin was the
+chimney which was made out of dried mud, sticks, and dirt. On the side
+of the cabin opposite the door there was a window where we got a little
+air and a little light. Our beds were made out of the same kind of wood
+that the floors were and we called them "Bed-Stilts." Slats were used
+for springs while the mattresses were made of large bags stuffed with
+straw. At night we used tallow candles for light and sometimes fat pine
+that we called light-wood. As Mrs. Hale did all of our cooking we had
+very few pots and pans. In the Winter months we used to take mud and
+close the cracks left in the wall where the logs did not fit close
+together."
+
+According to Mrs. McDaniel all the serious illnesses were handled by a
+doctor who was called in at such times. At other times Mr. or Mrs. Hale
+gave them either castor oil or salts. Sometimes they were given a type
+of oil called "lobelia oil." At the beginning of the spring season they
+drank various teas made out of the roots that they gathered in the
+surrounding woods. The only one that Mrs. McDaniel remembers is that
+which was made from sassafras roots. "This was good to clean the
+system," says Mrs. McDaniel. Whenever they were sick they did not have
+to report to the master's house each day as was the case on some of the
+other plantations. There were never any pretended illnesses to avoid
+work as far as Mrs. McDaniel knows.
+
+On Sunday all of the slaves on the Hale plantation were permitted to
+dress in their Sunday clothes and go to the white church in town. During
+the morning services they sat in the back of the church where they
+listened to the white pastor deliver the sermon. In the afternoon they
+listened to a sermon that was preached by a colored minister. Mrs.
+McDaniel hasn't the slightest idea of what these sermons were about.
+She remembers how marriages were performed, however, although the only
+one that she ever witnessed took place on one of the neighboring
+plantations. After a broom was placed on the ground a white minister
+read the scriptures and then the couple in the process of being married
+jumped over this broom. They were then considered as man and wife.
+
+Whippings were very uncommon the the Hale plantation. Sometimes Mr. Hale
+had to resort to this form of punishment for disobedience on the part of
+some of the servants. Mrs. McDaniel says that she was whipped many times
+but only once with the cowhide. Nearly every time that she was whipped a
+switch was used. She has seen her mother as well as some of the others
+punished but they were never beaten unmercifully. Neither she or any of
+the other slaves on the Hale plantation ever came in contact with the
+"Paddie-Rollers," whom they knew as a group of white men who went around
+whipping slaves who were caught away from their respective homes without
+passes from their masters. When asked about the buying and the selling
+of slaves Mrs. McDaniel said that she had never witnessed an auction at
+which slaves were being sold and that the only thing she knew about this
+was what she had been told by her mother who had been separated from her
+husband and sold in Georgia. Mr. Hale never had the occasion to sell any
+of those slaves that he held.
+
+Mrs. McDaniel remembers nothing of the talk that transpired between the
+slaves or her owners at the beginning of the war. She says: "I was a
+little girl, and like the other children then, I didn't have as much
+sense as the children of today who are of the age that I was then. I do
+remember that my master moved somewhere near Macon, Georgia after
+General Wheeler marched through. I believe that he did more damage than
+the Yanks did when they came through. When my master moved us along with
+his family we had to go out of the way a great deal because General
+Wheeler had destroyed all of the bridges. Besides this he damaged a
+great deal of the property that he passed." Continuing, Mrs. McDaniel
+said: "I didn't see any of the fighting but I did hear the firing of the
+cannons. I also saw any number of Confederate soldiers pass by our
+place." Mr. Hale didn't join the army although his oldest son did.
+
+At the time that the slaves were freed it meant nothing in particular to
+Mrs. McDaniel, who says that she was too young to pay much attention to
+what was happening. She never saw her father after they moved away from
+Watsonville. At any rate she and her mother remained in the service of
+Mr. Hale for a number of years after the war. In the course of this time
+Mr. Hale grew to be a wealthy man. He continued to be good to those
+servants who remained with him. After she was a grown woman Mrs.
+McDaniel left Mr. Hale as she was then married.
+
+Mrs. McDaniel says that she has reached such an old age because she has
+always taken care of herself, which is more than the young people of
+today are doing, she added as an after thought.
+
+
+
+
+Dist. 7
+Ex. Slave #74
+
+TOM McGRUDER, 102 years old
+Ex-Slave
+
+By Elizabeth Watson, Hawkinsville, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Tom McGruder, one of the oldest living ex-slaves in Pulaski County, was
+sitting on the porch of his son's home when we went in to see him. His
+grizzled old head began to nod a "Good morning" and his brown face
+became wreathed in smiles when he saw us.
+
+He looked very small as he sat in a low straight chair by the door. His
+shirt and overalls were ragged but spotlessly clean. On his feet were
+heavy shoes that were kept free from dirt. His complexion was not black
+as some of the other members of his race but was a light brown. There
+were very few wrinkles in his face considering the fact that he was one
+hundred and two years old in June. He spoke in a quiet voice though
+somewhat falteringly as he suffers greatly from asthma.
+
+"Were you born in this county, Uncle Tom?" we asked.
+
+"No mam, Missus," he replied. "Me and my mother and sister wuz brought
+from Virginia to this state by the speculators and sold here. I was only
+about eighteen or twenty and I was sold for $1250. My mother was given
+to one of Old Marster's married chillun.
+
+"You see, Missus," he spoke again after a long pause. "We wuz put on the
+block just like cattle and sold to one man today and another tomorrow. I
+wuz sold three times after coming to this state."
+
+Tom could tell us very little about his life on the large plantations
+because his feeble old mind would only be clear at intervals. He would
+begin relating some incident but would suddenly break off with, "I'd
+better leave that alone 'cause I done forgot." He remembered, however,
+that he trained dogs for his "whie folks," trained them to be good
+hunters as that was one of the favorite sports of the day.
+
+The last man to whom Tom was sold was Mr. Jim McGruder, of Emanuel
+County. He was living in a small cabin belonging to Mr. McGruder, when
+he married. "I 'members", said Tom, "That Old Marster and Missus fixed
+up a lunch and they and their chillun brought it to my cabin. Then they
+said, 'Nigger, jump the broom' and we wuz married, 'cause you see we
+didn't know nothing 'bout no cer'mony."
+
+It was with Mr. McGruder that Tom entered the army, working for him as
+his valet.
+
+"I wuz in the army for 'bout four years," Tom said. "I fought in the
+battles at Petersburg, Virginia and Chattanooga, Tennessee. I looked
+after Old Marster's shoes and clothes. Old Marster, what he done he done
+well. He was kind to me and I guess better to me sometimes than I
+deserved but I had to do what he told me."
+
+"Do you remember any of the old songs you used to sing?" we asked.
+"Missus, I can't sing no mo'," he replied. But pausing for a few minutes
+he raised his head and sang in a quiet voice, the words and melody
+perfectly clear;
+
+  "Why do you wait, dear brother,
+     Oh, why do you tarry so long?
+   Your Saviour is waiting to give you
+     A place in His sanctified throng."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by ex-slave
+
+SUSAN McINTOSH, Age 87
+1203 W. Hancook Avenue
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sadie B. Hornsby
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Ga.
+
+Edited by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+John N. Booth
+Augusta
+
+Leila Harris
+Augusta
+
+April 28, 1938
+[Date Stamp: MAY 6 1938]
+
+
+A driving rain sent the interviewer scurrying into the house of Susan
+McIntosh who lives with her son, Dr. Andrew Jones, at the corner of
+Hancock Avenue and Billups Street.
+
+Susan readily gave her story: "They tell me I was born in November
+1851," she said, "and I know I've been here a long time 'cause I've seen
+so many come and go. I've outlived 'most all of my folks 'cept my son
+that I live with now. Honey, I've 'most forgot about slavery days. I
+don't read, and anyway there ain't no need to think of them times now. I
+was born in Oconee County on Judge William Stroud's plantation. We
+called him Marse Billy. That was a long time before Athens was the
+county seat. Ma's name was Mary Jen, and Pa was Christopher Harris. They
+called him Chris for short. Marster Young L.G. Harris bought him from
+Marster Hudson of Elbert County and turned him over to his niece, Miss
+Lula Harris, when she married Marster Robert Taylor. Marse Robert was a
+son of General Taylor what lived in the Grady house before it belonged
+to Mr. Henry Grady's mother. Pa was coachman and house boy for Miss
+Lula.
+
+"Marse Billy owned Ma, and Marse Robert owned Pa, and Pa, he come to see
+Ma about once or twice a month. The Taylor's, they done a heap of
+travellin' and always took my Pa with 'em. Oh! there was thirteen of us
+chillun, seven died soon after they was born, and none of 'em lived to
+git grown 'cept me. Their names was Nanette and Ella, what was next to
+me; Susan--thats me; Isabelle, Martha, Mary, Diana, Lila, William, Gus,
+and the twins what was born dead; and Harden. He was named for a Dr.
+Harden what lived here then.
+
+"Marse Billy bought my gran'ma in Virginia. She was part Injun. I can
+see her long, straight, black hair now, and when she died she didn't
+have gray hair like mine. They say Injuns don't turn gray like other
+folks. Gran'ma made cloth for the white folks and slaves on the
+plantation. I used to hand her thread while she was weavin'. The lady
+what taught Gran'ma to weave cloth, was Mist'ess Gowel, and she was a
+foreigner, 'cause she warn't born in Georgia. She had two sons what run
+the factory between Watkinsville and Athens. My aunt, Mila Jackson, made
+all the thread what they done the weavin' with. Gran'pa worked for a
+widow lady what was a simster (seamstress) and she just had a little
+plantation. She was Mist'ess Doolittle. All Gran'pa done was cut wood,
+'tend the yard and gyarden. He had rheumatism and couldn't do much.
+
+"There ain't much to tell about what we done in the slave quarters,
+'cause when we got big enough, we had to work: nussin' the babies,
+totin' water, and helpin' Gran'ma with the weavin', and such like. Beds
+was driv to the walls of the cabin; foot and headboard put together with
+rails, what run from head to foot. Planks was laid crossways and straw
+put on them and the beds was kivvered with the whitest sheets you ever
+seen. Some made pallets on the floor.
+
+"No, Ma'am, I didn't make no money 'til after freedom. I heard tell of
+ten and fifteen cents, but I didn't know nothing 'bout no figgers. I
+didn't know a nickel from a dime them days.
+
+"Yes, Ma'am, Marse Billy 'lowed his slaves to have their own gyardens,
+and 'sides plenty of good gyarden sass, we had milk and butter, bread
+and meat, chickens, greens, peas, and just everything that growed on the
+farm. Winter and summer, all the food was cooked in a great big
+fireplace, about four feet wide, and you could put on a whole stick of
+cord wood at a time. When they wanted plenty of hot ashes to bake with,
+they burnt wood from ash trees. Sweet potatoes and bread was baked in
+the ashes. Seems like vittuls don't taste as good as they used to, when
+we cooked like that. 'Possums, Oh! I dearly love 'possums. My cousins
+used to catch 'em and when they was fixed up and cooked with sweet
+potatoes, 'possum meat was fit for a king. Marse Billy had a son named
+Mark, what was a little bitty man. They said he was a dwarf. He never
+done nothing but play with the children on the plantation. He would take
+the children down to the crick what run through the plantation and fish
+all day. We had rabbits, but they was most generally caught in a box
+trap, so there warn't no time wasted a-huntin' for 'em.
+
+"In summer, the slave women wore white homespun and the men wore pants
+and shirts made out of cloth what looked like overall cloth does now. In
+winter, we wore the same things, 'cept Marse Billy give the men woolen
+coats what come down to their knees, and the women wore warm wraps what
+they called sacks. On Sunday we had dresses dyed different colors. The
+dyes were made from red clay and barks. Bark from pines, sweetgums, and
+blackjacks was boiled, and each one made a different color dye. The
+cloth made at home was coarse and was called 'gusta cloth. Marse Billy
+let the slaves raise chickens, and cows, and have cotton patches too.
+They would sell butter, eggs, chickens, brooms, made out of wheat straw
+and such like. They took the money and bought calico, muslin and good
+shoes, pants, coats and other nice things for their Sunday clothes.
+Marse Billy bought leather from Marster Brumby's tanyard and had shoes
+made for us. They was coarse and rough, but they lasted a long time.
+
+"My Marster was father-in-law of Dr. Jones Long. Marse Billy's wife,
+Miss Rena, died long before I was born. Their six children was all grown
+when I first knowed 'em. The gals was: Miss Rena, Miss Selena, Miss
+Liza, and Miss Susan. Miss Susan was Dr. Long's wife. I was named for
+her. There was two boys; Marse John and Marse Mark. I done told you
+'bout Marse Mark bein' a dwarf. They lived in a big old eight room
+house, on a high hill in sight of Mars Hill Baptist Church. Marse Billy
+was a great deacon in that church. Yes, Ma'am, he sho' was good to his
+Negroes. I heard 'em say that after he had done bought his slaves by
+working in a blacksmith shop, and wearin' cheap clothes, like mulberry
+suspenders, he warn't goin' to slash his Negroes up. The older folks
+admired Mist'ess and spoke well of her. They said she had lots more
+property than Marse Billy. She said she wanted Marse Billy to see that
+her slaves was give to her children. I 'spose there was about a hundred
+acres on that plantation and Marse Billy owned more property besides.
+There was about fifty grown folks and as to the children, I just don't
+know how many there was. Around the quarters looked like a little town.
+
+"Marse Billy had a overseer up to the time War broke out, then he picked
+out a reliable colored man to carry out his orders. Sometimes the
+overseer got rough, then Marse Billy let him go and got another one. The
+overseer got us up about four or five o'clock in the morning, and dark
+brought us in at night.
+
+"Jails! Yes, Ma'am, I ricollect one was in Watkinsville. No, Ma'am, I
+never saw nobody auctioned off, but I heard about it. Men used to come
+through an buy up slaves for foreign states where there warn't so many.
+
+"Well, I didn't have no privilege to learn to read and write, but the
+white lady what taught my gran'ma to weave, had two sons what run the
+factory, and they taught my uncles to read and write.
+
+"There warn't no church on the plantation, so we went to Mars Hill
+Church. The white folks went in the mornings from nine 'til twelve and
+the slaves went in the evenings from three 'till about five. The white
+folks went in the front door and slaves used the back door. Rev. Bedford
+Lankford, what preached to the white folks helped a Negro, named Cy
+Stroud, to preach to the Negroes. Oh! Yes, Ma'am, I well remembers them
+baptizings. I believe in church and baptizing.
+
+"They buried the slaves on the plantation, in coffins made out of pine
+boards. Didn't put them in two boxes lak dey does now, and dey warn't
+painted needer.
+
+"Did you say patterollers? Sho' I seen 'em, but they didn't come on our
+plantation, 'cause Marse Billy was good to his Negroes and when they
+wanted a pass, if it was for a good reason, he give 'em one. Didn't none
+of Marse Billy's slaves run off to no North. When Marse Billy had need
+to send news somewhere, he put a reliable Negro on a mule and sent him.
+I sho' didn't hear about no trouble twixt white folks and Negroes.
+
+"I tell you, Honey, when the days work was over them slaves went to bed,
+'cep' when the moon was out and they worked in their own cotton patches.
+On dark nights, the women mended and quilted sometimes. Not many worked
+in the fields on Saturday evenin's. They caught up on little jobs aroun'
+the lot; a mending harness and such like. On Saturday nights the young
+folks got together and had little frolics and feasts, but the older
+folks was gettin' things ready for Sunday, 'cause Marse Billy was a
+mighty religious man: we had to go to church, and every last one of the
+children was dragged along too.
+
+"We always had one week for Christmas. They brought us as much of good
+things to eat as we could destroy in one week, but on New Year's Day we
+went back to work. No, Ma'am, as I ricollect, we didn't have no corn
+shuckings or cotton pickings only what we had to do as part of our
+regular work.
+
+"The white folks mostly got married on Wednesday or Thursday evenin's.
+Oh! they had fine times, with everything good to eat, and lots of
+dancing too. Then they took a trip. Some went to Texas and some to
+Chicago. They call Chicago, the colored folks' New York now. I don't
+remember no weddings 'mongst the slaves. My cousin married on another
+plantation, but I warn't there.
+
+"Where I was, there warn't no playing done, only 'mongst the little
+chillun, and I can't remember much that far back. I recall that we sung
+a little song, about:
+
+  'Little drops of water
+   Little grains of sand,
+   Make the mighty ocean
+   And the pleasant land.'
+
+"Oh! Yes, Ma'am, Marse Billy was good to his slaves, when they got sick.
+He called in Dr. Jones Long, Dr. Harden, and Dr. Lumpkin when they was
+real sick. There was lots of typhoid fever then. I don't know nothing
+about no herbs, they used for diseases; only boneset and hoarhound tea
+for colds and croup. They put penrile (pennyroyal) in the house to keep
+out flies and fleas, and if there was a flea in the house he would shoo
+from that place right then and there.
+
+"The old folks put little bags of assfiddy (assafoetida) around their
+chillun's necks to keep off measles and chickenpox, and they used
+turpentine and castor oil on chillun's gums to make 'em teethe easy.
+When I was living on Milledge Avenue, I had Dr. Crawford W. Long to see
+about one of my babies, and he slit that baby's gums so the teeth could
+come through. That looked might bad to me, but they don't believe in old
+ways no more."
+
+She laughed and said: "No, Ma'am, I don't know nothing about such low
+down things as hants and ghosts! Rawhead and Bloody Bones, I just
+thought he was a skelerpin, with no meat on him. Course lots of Negroes
+believe in ghosts and hants. Us chillun done lots of flightin' like
+chillun will do. I remember how little Marse Mark Stroud used to take
+all the little boys on the plantation and teach 'em to play Dixie on
+reeds what they called quills. That was good music, but the radio has
+done away with all that now.
+
+"I knowed I was a slave and that it was the War that sot me free. It was
+'bout dinner time when Marse Billy come to the door and called us to the
+house. He pulled out a paper and read it to us, and then he said: 'You
+all are free, as I am.' We couldn't help thinking about what a good
+marster he always had been, and how old, and feeble, and gray headed he
+looked as he kept on a-talkin' that day. 'You all can stay on here with
+me if you want to,' he 'lowed, 'but if you do, I will have to pay you
+wages for your work.'
+
+"I never saw no Yankees in Athens, but I was in Atlanta at Mrs.
+Winship's on Peachtree Street, when General Sherman come to that town
+'parin' his men for to go home. There was about two thousand in all,
+white and black. They marched up and down Marietta Street from three
+o'clock in the evening 'til seven o'clock next morning. Then they left.
+I remember well that there warn't a house left standing in Atlanta, what
+warn't riddled with shell holes. I was scared pretty nigh to death and I
+never want to leave home at no time like that again. But Pa saw 'em soon
+after that in Athens. They was a marching down Broad Street on their way
+to Macon, and Pa said it looked like a blue cloud going through.
+
+"Ma and me stayed on with Marse Billy 'bout six months after the War
+ended before we come to town to live with Pa. We lived right back of
+Rock College and Ma took in washin' for the folks what went to school
+there. No, Ma'am I never saw no Ku Kluxers. Me and Ma didn't leave home
+at night and the white folks wouldn't let 'em git Pa.
+
+"Major Knox brought three or four teachers to teach in a school for
+Negroes that was started up here the first year after the War. Major
+Knox, he was left like a sort of Justice of Peace to get things to going
+smooth after the War. I went to school there about three months, then Ma
+took sick, and I didn't go no more. My white teacher was Miss Sarah, and
+she was from Chicago.
+
+"Now and then the Negroes bought a little land, and white folks gave
+little places to some Negroes what had been good slaves for 'em.
+
+"I didn't take in about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. A long time after the War,
+I heard 'em say he got killed. I knowed Mr. Jeff. Davis was President of
+the Confederacy. As for Booker Washington, I never saw him, but I heard
+his son whan he was here once and gave a musical of some sort at the
+Congregational Church.
+
+"I was a old gal when I married 'bout thirty or forty years after the
+War. I married George McIntosh. Wedding clothes!" she chuckled, and
+said: "I didn't have many. I bought 'em second hand from Mrs. Ed. Bond.
+They was nice though. The dress I married in was red silk. We had a
+little cake and wine; no big to do, just a little fambly affair. Of our
+four chillun, two died young, and two lived to git grown. My daughter
+was a school teacher and she has been dead sometime. I stays wid my only
+living child. My husban' died a long time ago.
+
+"I cooked and washed for Mr. Prince Hodgson for thirty years. Miss Mary
+Franklin used to tell me 'bout all them strange places she had been to
+while she was paintin'. There never was nobody in this town could paint
+prettier pictures than Miss Mary's.
+
+"I'm glad slavery is over. I'm too old to really work anymore, but I'm
+like a fish going down the crick and if he sees a bug he will catch him
+if he can.
+
+"I joined the church 'cause I believe in the Son of God. I know he is a
+forgiving God, and will give me a place to rest after I am gone from the
+earth. Everybody ought to 'pare for the promised land, where they can
+live always after they are done with this world."
+
+After the interview, she said: "Honey, this is the most I have talked
+about slavery days in twelve years; and I believe what I told you is
+right. Of course, lots has faded from my mind about it now."
+
+
+
+
+District #7
+Adella S. Dixon, Macon, Georgia
+
+MATILDA McKINNEY
+100 Empire Avenue, Macon, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: JUL 28 1937]
+
+
+Matilda McKinney was born in Texas but was brought to southwest Georgia,
+near Albany, at an early age. Her mother, Amy Dean, had eight children,
+of which Aunt Matilda is the eldest. The plantation on which they lived
+was owned by Mr. Milton Ball, and it varied little in size or
+arrangement from the average one of that time. Here was found the usual
+two-story white house finished with high columns and surrounded by
+trees.
+
+Most of the Negro mothers did field work, so it was necessary for others
+to care for the children. Mr. Ball handled this problem in the usual
+way. He established what would today be called a day nursery. Each
+mother brought her offspring to the home of an elderly woman before
+leaving for her day's work. Here, they were safely kept until their
+parents returned. The midday meal for everyone was prepared at the Big
+House and the slaves were served from huge tubs of vegetables and pots
+of meat. "Aunt" Julia was responsible for the children's noon meal.
+
+When "Aunt" Matilda was old enough to do a little work, she was moved
+into the house where she swept floors, waited on the table, and fanned
+flies while a meal was being served. The adult females who lived in the
+house did most of the weaving and sewing. All the summer, garments were
+made and put away for winter use. Two dresses of osnaburg were then
+given each person.
+
+The field hands, always considered an inferior group by the house
+servants, worked from sunup to sundown. When they returned from the
+fields they prepared supper for their families and many times had to
+feed the children in the dark, for a curfew horn was blown and no lights
+could be lighted after its warning note had sounded. There was very
+little visiting to or from the group which dwelt here, as the curfew
+hour was early.
+
+Saturday varied a little from the other week days. The field work was
+suspended in the afternoon to allow the mothers time to wash their
+clothing. With sunset came the preparations for the weekly frolic. A
+fiddler furnished music while the dancers danced numerous square dances
+until a late hour.
+
+Home remedies for illness were used much more extensively than any
+doctor's medicine. Teas, compounded from sage, boneset, tansy, and
+mullen, usually sufficed for any minor sickness, and serious illness was
+rare.
+
+Food was distributed on Sunday morning. Two-and-a-half pounds of meat, a
+quantity of syrup, and a peck of meal were given each adult for the
+week. A special ration for Sunday alone was potatoes, buttermilk, and
+material for biscuits. Each family had its own garden from which a
+supply of vegetables could always be obtained in season. The smaller
+children had additional delicacies, for they early learned that the
+house where produce was kept had holes in the floor which yielded
+peanuts, etc, when punched with a stick.
+
+"Aunt" Matilda was unable to give any information regarding the war, but
+remembers that her family remained at her former owner's plantation for
+some time after they were freed. She now lives with her granddaughter
+who takes excellent care of her. Her long life is attributed to her
+habit of going to bed early and otherwise caring for herself properly.
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE
+
+WILLIAM McWHORTER, Age 78
+383 W. Broad Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers'
+Project
+Residencies 6 & 7
+Augusta, Ga.
+
+Sept. 30, 1938
+
+
+The rambling, one-story frame building where William McWhorter makes his
+home with his cousin, Sarah Craddock, houses several families and is
+proudly referred to by the neighbors as "de 'partment house."
+
+William, better known as "Shug," is a very black man of medium build. He
+wore a black slouch hat pulled well down over tangled gray hair, a dingy
+blue shirt, soiled gray pants, and black shoes. The smile faded from his
+face when he learned the nature of the visit. "I thought you was de
+pension lady 'comin' to fetch me some money," he said, "and 'stid of dat
+you wants to know 'bout slavery days. I'se disapp'inted.
+
+"Mistess, it's been a long time since I was born on Marse Joe
+McWhorter's plantation down in Greene County and I was jus' a little
+fellow when slavery was done over wid. Allen and Martha McWhorter was my
+ma and pa. Pa, he was de carriage driver, and ma, she was a field hand.
+Dey brought her here from Oingebug (Orangeburg), South Carolina, and
+sold her to Marse Joe when she was jus' a little gal. Me and Annie,
+Ella, Jim, and Tom was all de chillun in our fambly, and none of us
+warn't big enough to do no wuk to speak of 'fore de end of de big war.
+You see, Mistess, it was lak dis; Marse Joe, he owned a old 'oman what
+didn't do nothin' 'cept stay at de house and look atter us chillun, and
+dat was one of dem plantations whar dere was sho a heap of slave
+chillun.
+
+"'Bout our houses? Mistess, I'se gwine to tell you de trufe, dem houses
+slaves had to live in, dey warn't much, but us didn't know no better
+den. Dey was jus' one-room log cabins wid stick and dirt chimblies. De
+beds for slaves was home-made and was held together wid cords wove evvy
+which away. If you didn't tighten dem cords up pretty offen your bed was
+apt to fall down wid you. Suggin sacks was sewed together to make our
+mattress ticks and dem ticks was filled wid straw. Now, don't tell me
+you ain't heared of suggin sacks a-fore! Dem was coarse sacks sort of
+lak de guano sacks us uses now. Dey crowded jus' as many Niggers into
+each cabin as could sleep in one room, and marriage never meant a thing
+in dem days when dey was 'rangin' sleepin' quarters for slaves. Why, I
+knowed a man what had two wives livin' in de same cabin; one of dem
+'omans had all boys and t'other one didn't have nothin' but gals. It's
+nigh de same way now, but dey don't live in de same house if a man's got
+two famblies.
+
+"I 'members dat my pa's ma, Grandma Cindy, was a field hand, but by de
+time I was old 'nough to take things in she was too old for dat sort of
+wuk and Marster let her do odd jobs 'round de big house. De most I seed
+her doin' was settin' 'round smokin' her old corncob pipe. I was named
+for Grandpa Billy, but I never seed him.
+
+"Mistess, does you know what you'se axin'? Whar was slaves to git money
+whilst dey was still slaves? Dere warn't but a few of 'em dat knowed
+what money even looked lak 'til atter dey was made free.
+
+"Now, you is talkin' 'bout somepin sho 'nough when you starts 'bout dem
+victuals. Marse Joe, he give us plenty of sich as collards, turnips and
+greens, peas, 'taters, meat, and cornbread. Lots of de cornbread was
+baked in pones on spiders, but ashcakes was a mighty go in dem days.
+Marster raised lots of cane so as to have plenty of good syrup. My pa
+used to 'possum hunt lots and he was 'lowed to keep a good 'possum hound
+to trail 'em wid. Rabbits and squirrels was plentiful and dey made
+mighty good eatin'. You ain't never seed sich heaps of fish as slaves
+used to fetch back atter a little time spent fishin' in de cricks and de
+river.
+
+"De kitchen was sot off from de big house a little piece, but Old
+Marster had a roof built over de walkway so fallin' weather wouldn't
+spile de victuals whilst dey was bein' toted from de kitchen in de yard
+to de dinin' room in de big house. I don't reckon you ever seed as big a
+fireplace as de one dey cooked on in dat old kitchen. It had plenty of
+room for enough pots, skillets, spiders, and ovens to cook for all de
+folks on dat plantation. No, mam, slaves never had no gardens of deir
+own; dey never had no time of deir own to wuk no garden, but Old Marster
+fed 'em from his garden and dat was big enough to raise plenty for all.
+
+"De one little cotton shirt dat was all chillun wore in summertime den
+warn't worth talkin' 'bout; dey called it a shirt but it looked more lak
+a long-tailed nightgown to me. For winter, our clothes was made of wool
+cloth and dey was nice and warm. Mistess, slaves never knowed what
+Sunday clothes was, 'cept dey did know dey had to be clean on Sunday. No
+matter how dirty you went in de week-a-days, you had to put on clean
+clothes Sunday mornin'. Uncle John Craddock made shoes for all de grown
+folks on our plantation, but chillun went barfoots and it never seemed
+to make 'em sick; for a fact, I b'lieves dey was stouter den dan dey is
+now.
+
+"Marse Joe McWhorter and his wife, Miss Emily Key, owned us, and dey was
+jus' as good to us as dey could be. Mistess, you knows white folks had
+to make slaves what b'longed to 'em mind and be-have deyselfs in dem
+days or else dere woulda been a heap of trouble. De big fine house what
+Marse Joe and his fambly lived in sot in a cedar grove and Woodville was
+de town nighest de place. Oh! Yes, mam, dey had a overseer all right,
+but I'se done forgot his name, and somehow I can't git up de names of
+Marse Joe's chillun. I'se been sick so long my mem'ry ain't as good as
+it used to be, and since I lost my old 'oman 'bout 2 months ago, I don't
+'spect I ever kin reckomember much no more. It seems lak I'se done told
+you my pa was Marse Joe's carriage driver. He driv de fambly
+whar-some-ever dey wanted to go.
+
+"I ain't got no idee how many acres was in dat great big old plantation,
+but I'se heared 'em say Marse Joe had to keep from 30 to 40 slaves, not
+countin' chillun, to wuk dat part of it dat was cleared land. Dey told
+me, atter I was old enough to take it in, dat de overseer sho did drive
+dem slaves; dey had to be up and in de field 'fore sunup and he wuked
+'em 'til slap, black dark. When dey got back to de big house, 'fore dey
+et supper, de overseer got out his big bull whip and beat de ones dat
+hadn't done to suit him durin' de day. He made 'em strip off deir
+clothes down to de waist, and evvywhar dat old bull whip struck it split
+de skin. Dat was awful, awful! Sometimes slaves dat had been beat and
+butchered up so bad by dat overseer man would run away, and next day
+Aunt Suke would be sho to go down to de spring to wash so she could
+leave some old clothes dar for 'em to git at night. I'se tellin' you,
+slaves sho did fare common in dem days.
+
+"My Aunt Mary b'longed to Marse John Craddock and when his wife died and
+left a little baby--dat was little Miss Lucy--Aunt Mary was nussin' a
+new baby of her own, so Marse John made her let his baby suck too. If
+Aunt Mary was feedin' her own baby and Miss Lucy started cryin' Marse
+John would snatch her baby up by the legs and spank him, and tell Aunt
+Mary to go on and nuss his baby fust. Aunt Mary couldn't answer him a
+word, but my ma said she offen seed Aunt Mary cry 'til de tears met
+under her chin.
+
+"I ain't never heared nothin' 'bout no jails in slavery time. What dey
+done den was 'most beat de life out of de Niggers to make 'em be-have.
+Ma was brung to Bairdstown and sold on de block to Marse Joe long 'fore
+I was borned, but I ain't never seed no slaves sold. Lordy, Mistess,
+ain't nobody never told you it was agin de law to larn a Nigger to read
+and write in slavery time? White folks would chop your hands off for dat
+quicker dan dey would for 'most anything else. Dat's jus' a sayin',
+'chop your hands off.' Why, Mistess, a Nigger widout no hands wouldn't
+be able to wuk much, and his owner couldn't sell him for nigh as much as
+he could git for a slave wid good hands. Dey jus' beat 'em up bad when
+dey cotched 'em studyin' readin' and writin', but folks did tell 'bout
+some of de owners dat cut off one finger evvy time dey cotch a slave
+tryin' to git larnin'. How-some-ever, dere was some Niggers dat wanted
+larnin' so bad dey would slip out at night and meet in a deep gully whar
+dey would study by de light of light'ood torches; but one thing sho, dey
+better not let no white folks find out 'bout it, and if dey was lucky
+'nough to be able to keep it up 'til dey larned to read de Bible, dey
+kept it a close secret.
+
+"Slaves warn't 'lowed to have no churches of dey own and dey had to go
+to church wid de white folks. Dere warn't no room for chillun in de
+Baptist church at Bairdstown whar Marse Joe tuk his grown-up slaves to
+meetin', so I never did git to go to none, but he used to take my ma
+along, but she was baptized by a white preacher when she jined up wid
+dat church. De crick was nigh de church and dat was whar dey done de
+baptizin'.
+
+"None of our Niggers never knowed enough 'bout de North to run off up
+dar. Lak I done told you, some of 'em did run off atter a bad beatin',
+but dey jus' went to de woods. Some of 'em come right on back, but some
+didn't; Us never knowed whar dem what didn't come back went. Show me a
+slavery-time Nigger dat ain't heared 'bout paterollers! Mistess, I 'clar
+to goodness, paterollers was de devil's own hosses. If dey cotched a
+Nigger out and his Marster hadn't fixed him up wid a pass, it was jus'
+too bad; dey most kilt him. You couldn't even go to de Lord's house on
+Sunday 'less you had a ticket sayin': 'Dis Nigger is de propity of Marse
+Joe McWhorter. Let him go.'
+
+"Dere warn't never no let-up when it come to wuk. When slaves come in
+from de fields atter sundown and tended de stock and et supper, de mens
+still had to shuck corn, mend hoss collars, cut wood, and sich lak; de
+'omans mended clothes, spun thread, wove cloth, and some of 'em had to
+go up to de big house and nuss de white folks' babies. One night my ma
+had been nussin' one of dem white babies, and atter it dozed off to
+sleep she went to lay it in its little bed. De child's foot cotch itself
+in Marse Joe's galluses dat he had done hung on de foot of de bed, and
+when he heared his baby cry Marse Joe woke up and grabbed up a stick of
+wood and beat ma over de head 'til he 'most kilt her. Ma never did seem
+right atter dat and when she died she still had a big old knot on her
+head.
+
+"Dey said on some plantations slaves was let off from wuk when de dinner
+bell rung on Saddays, but not on our'n; dere warn't never no let-up 'til
+sundown on Sadday nights atter dey had tended to de stock and et supper.
+On Sundays dey was 'lowed to visit 'round a little atter dey had 'tended
+church, but dey still had to be keerful to have a pass wid 'em. Marse
+Joe let his slaves have one day for holiday at Christmas and he give 'em
+plenty of extra good somepin t'eat and drink on dat special day. New
+Year's Day was de hardest day of de whole year, for de overseer jus'
+tried hisself to see how hard he could drive de Niggers dat day, and
+when de wuk was all done de day ended off wid a big pot of cornfield
+peas and hog jowl to eat for luck. Dat was s'posed to be a sign of
+plenty too.
+
+"Cornshuckin's was a mighty go dem days, and folks from miles and miles
+around was axed. When de wuk was done dey had a big time eatin',
+drinkin', wrestlin', dancin', and all sorts of frolickin'. Even wid all
+dat liquor flowin' so free at cornshuckin's I never heared of nobody
+gittin' mad, and Marse Joe never said a cross word at his cornshuckin's.
+He allus picked bright moonshiny nights for dem big cotton pickin's, and
+dere warn't nothin' short 'bout de big eats dat was waitin' for dem
+Niggers when de cotton was all picked out. De young folks danced and cut
+up evvy chanct dey got and called deyselfs havin' a big time.
+
+"Games? Well, 'bout de biggest things us played when I was a chap was
+baseball, softball, and marbles. Us made our own marbles out of clay and
+baked 'em in de sun, and our baseballs and softballs was made out of
+rags.
+
+"Does I know anything 'bout ghosties? Yes, mam, I sees ha'nts and
+ghosties any time. Jus' t'other night I seed a man widout no head, and
+de old witches 'most nigh rides me to death. One of 'em got holt of me
+night 'fore last and 'most choked me to death; she was in de form of a
+black cat. Mistess, some folks say dat to see things lak dat is a sign
+your blood is out of order. Now, me, I don't know what makes me see 'em.
+
+"Marse Joe tuk mighty good keer of sick slaves. He allus called in a
+doctor for 'em, and kept plenty of castor ile, turpentine, and de lak on
+hand to dose 'em wid. Miss Emily made teas out of a heap of sorts of
+leaves, barks, and roots, sich as butterfly root, pine tops, mullein,
+catnip and mint leaves, feverfew grass, red oak bark, slippery ellum
+bark, and black gum chips. Most evvybody had to wear little sacks of
+papaw seeds or of assyfizzy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off
+diseases.
+
+"Dey used to say dat a free Nigger from de North come through de South
+and seed how de white folks was treatin' his race, den he went back up
+der and told folks 'bout it and axed 'em to holp do somepin' 'bout it.
+Dat's what I heared tell was de way de big war got started dat ended in
+settin' slaves free. My folks said dat when de Yankee sojers come
+through, Miss Emily was cryin' and takin' on to beat de band. She had
+all her silver in her apron and didn't know whar to hide it, so atter
+awhile she handed it to her cook and told her to hide it. De cook put it
+in de woodpile. De Yankee mens broke in de smokehouse, brought out meat
+and lard, kilt chickens, driv off cows and hosses, but dey never found
+Miss Emily's silver. It was a long time 'fore our fambly left Marse
+Joe's place.
+
+"Marse Joe never did tell his Niggers dey was free. One day one of dem
+Yankee sojers rid through de fields whar dey was wukin' and he axed 'em
+if dey didn't know dey was as free as deir Marster. Dat Yankee kept on
+talkin' and told em dey didn't have to stay on wid Marse Joe 'less dey
+wanted to, end dey didn't have to do nothin' nobody told 'em to if dey
+didn't want to do it. He said dey was deir own bosses and was to do as
+dey pleased from de time of de surrender.
+
+"Schools was sot up for slaves not long atter dey was sot free, and a
+few of de old Marsters give deir Niggers a little land, but not many of
+'em done dat. Jus' as de Niggers was branchin' out and startin' to live
+lak free folks, dem nightriders come 'long beatin', cuttin', and
+slashin' 'em up, but I 'spects some of dem Niggers needed evvy lick dey
+got.
+
+"Now, Mistess, you knows all Niggers would ruther be free, and I ain't
+no diffunt from nobody else 'bout dat. Yes, mam, I'se mighty glad Mr.
+Abraham Lincoln and Jeff Davis fit 'til dey sot us free. Dat Jeff Davis
+ought to be 'shamed of hisself to want Niggers kept in bondage; dey says
+dough, dat he was a mighty good man, and Miss Millie Rutherford said
+some fine things 'bout him in her book what Sarah read to me, but you
+can't 'spect us Niggers to b'lieve he was so awful good.
+
+"Me and Rosa Barrow had a pretty fair weddin' and a mighty fine supper.
+I don't ricollect what she had on, but I'se tellin' you she looked
+pretty and sweet to me. Our two boys and three gals is done growed up
+and I'se got three grandchillun now. Rosa, she died out 'bout 2 months
+ago and I'se gwine to marry agin soon as I finds somebody to take keer
+of me.
+
+"I was happier de day I jined de church at Sander's Chapel, dan I'se
+been since. It was de joyfullest day of all my life, so far. Folks ought
+to git ready for a better world dan dis to live in when dey is finished
+on dis earth, and I'se sho glad our Good Lord saw fit to set us free
+from sin end slavery. If he hadn't done it, I sho would have been dead
+long ago. Yistidday I picked a little cotton to git me some bread, and
+it laid me out. I can't wuk no more. I don't know how de Blessed Lord
+means to provide for me but I feels sho He ain't gwine to let me
+perish."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6:
+Ex-Slave #72]
+
+Henrietta Carlisle
+Alberta Minor
+Re-search Workers
+
+MOLLIE MALONE--EX-SLAVE
+Route B, Griffin, Georgia
+Interviewed
+
+September 16, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Mollie was born on a plantation owned by Mr Valentine Brook, near Locust
+Grove, Georgia. Mr. Brook died before the War and his wife, "the widder
+Brock", ran the plantation.
+
+Slaves not needed on the home plantation were "hired out" to other land
+owners for from $200.00 to $300.00 a year. This was done the first of
+each year by an auction from a "horse block". When Mollie was seven
+months old her mother, Clacy Brock, was "hired out" and she was taken
+care of by two old Negroes, too old to work, and who did nothing but
+care for the little "Niggers". Mollie grew up with these children
+between the "big house" and the kitchen. When she was old enough she was
+"put to mind" the smaller children and if they did'nt behave she pinched
+them, but "when the 'ole Miss found it out, she'd sure 'whup me'", she
+said. These children were fed cornbread and milk for breakfast and
+supper, and "pot licker" with cornbread for dinner. They slept in a
+large room on quilts or pallets. Each night the larger children were
+given so many "cuts" to spin, and were punished if all weren't finished.
+The thread was woven into cloth on the loom and made into clothes by the
+slaves who did the sewing. There were no "store bought" clothes, and
+Mollie was free before she ever owned a pair of shoes. Clothes had to be
+furnished by the owner for the slaves he "hired out".
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Brock had two daughters, Margaret and Mary Anne, who led
+very quiet secluded lives. Mollie remembers visits of the traveling
+preacher, who conducted services in a nearby church once a month. The
+slaves walked behind the White folks' carriages to and from the church,
+where they were seated in the rear during the services. If there were
+baptisms, the Whites were baptized first, then the Darkies.
+
+On this plantation the Negroes were not allowed to engage in any frolics
+or attend social gatherings. They only knew Christmas by the return of
+the hired out slaves, who came home for a week before the next auction.
+
+The young lady daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Brock wore "drag tail" dresses,
+and Mollie says the little Negroes had to hold these long skirts off the
+ground whenever they were out doors, then spread them as they went into
+the house so they could "strut."
+
+The children were not allowed any education other than the "old Miss"
+reading them the Bible on Sunday afternoons.
+
+The older Negroes were not allowed to visit on other plantations often,
+but when they did go they had to have passes from their masters or the
+"patarolers" would whip them--if they were caught.
+
+Hoar-hound and penny-royal were used for minor ailments, and "varnish"
+was put on cuts by the "ole Miss". Mollie doesn't remember ever seeing a
+doctor, other than a mid-wife, on the plantation. Home made remedies for
+"palpitation of the heart" was to wear tied around the neck a piece of
+lead, pounded into the shape of the heart, and punched with nine holes,
+or to get some one "not kin to you", to tie some salt in a small bag and
+wear it over your heart. Toothache was cured by smoking a pipe of "life
+everlasting", commonly called "rabbit tobacco". Headaches were stopped
+by beating the whites of an egg stiff, adding soda and putting on a
+cloth, then tying around the head.
+
+Mr. Brock died before the War, consequently not having any men to go
+from the plantation, Mollie knew very little about it. She remembers
+Confederate soldiers "practicin" at Locust Grove, the nearest town, and
+one time the Yankees came to the plantation and "took off" a horse Mrs.
+Brock had hidden in the swamp, also all the silver found buried.
+
+Mollie knew nothing of the freedom of the slaves until her mother came
+to get her. For two years they "hired out" on a farm in Butts County,
+where they worked in the fields. Several times in later years Mollie
+returned to the Brock plantation to see "the ole Miss" and the young
+Misses. Mrs. Brock and her daughters, who had never married, died on the
+plantation where they had always lived.
+
+Mollie's family "knocked around awhile", and then came to Griffin where
+they have since made their home. She became a familiar figure driving an
+ox-cart on the streets and doing odd jobs for White families and leading
+a useful life in the community. Besides her own family, Mollie has
+raised fifteen orphaned Negro children. She is approximately ninety
+years old, being "about growd" when the War ended.
+
+
+
+
+District Two
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+
+AUNT CARRIE MASON
+Milledgeville, Georgia
+(Baldwin County)
+
+Written By:
+Mrs. Estelle G. Burke
+Research Worker
+Federal Writers' Project
+Milledgeville, Georgia
+
+Edited By:
+John N. Booth
+Asst. District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+July 7, 1937
+[Date Stamp: JUL 20 1937]
+
+
+"Howdy, Miss, Howdy. Come on in. George is poly today. My grandchillun
+is doin' a little cleanin' up fer me 'cause us thinks George ain't got
+long on this earth an' us don' want de place ter be dirty an' all when
+he's gone."
+
+The home of Aunt Carrie and Uncle George Mason, a two-room cabin
+surrounded by a dirty yard, stands in a clearing. Old tin cans, bottles,
+dusty fruit jars, and piles of rat-tail cotton from gutted mattresses
+littered the place. An immense sugarberry tree, beautifully
+proportioned, casts inviting shade directly in front of the stoop. It is
+the only redeeming feature about the premises. Aunt Carrie, feeble and
+gray haired, hobbled out in the yard with the aid of a stick.
+
+"Have a seat, Miss. Dat cheer is all right. It won't fall down. Don't
+git yo' feet wet in dat dirty water. My grandchillun is scourin' terday.
+Effen yer want to, us'll set under de tree. Dey's a cool breeze dar all
+de time.
+
+"You wants to fin' out my age an' all? Law Miss, I don' know how ole I
+is. George is nigh 'bout 90. I 'members my mammy said I wuz bawn a mont'
+or two 'fore freedom wuz 'clared. Yas'um I rekymembers all 'bout de
+Yankees. How cum I 'members 'bout dem an' de war wuz over den? I cain't
+tell yer dat, but I knows I 'members seein' 'em in de big road. It
+mought not uv been Mister Sherman's mens but mammy said de Yankees wuz
+in de big road long after freedom wuz 'clared, and dey wuz down here
+gettin' things straight. Dey wuz sho' in er mess atter de war! Evvythin'
+wuz tore up an' de po' niggers didn't know which away to turn.
+
+"My mammy's name wuz Catherine Bass an' my pappy wuz Ephriam Butts. Us
+b'longed ter Mars' Ben Bass an' my mammy had de same name ez marster
+twell she ma'ied pappy. He b'longed ter somebody else 'til marster
+bought him. Dey had ten chillun. No, mam, Mammy didn't have no doctor,"
+Aunt Carrie chuckled, "Didn't nobody hardly have a doctor in dem days.
+De white folks used yarbs an' ole 'omans to he'p 'em at dat time. Mammy
+had er ole 'oman whut lived on de place evvy time she had a little 'un.
+She had one evvy year too. She lost one. Dat chile run aroun' 'til she
+wuz one year ole an' den died wid de disentery.
+
+"Us had er right hard time in dem days. De beds us used den warn't like
+dese here nice beds us has nowadays. Don't you laugh, Berry, I knows
+dese beds us got now is 'bout to fall down," Aunt Carrie admonished her
+grandson when he guffawed at her statement, "You chilluns run erlong now
+an' git thoo' wid dat cleanin'." Aunt Carrie's spirits seemed dampened
+by Berry's rude laugh and it was several minutes before she started
+talking again. "Dese young folks don't know nuthin' 'bout hard times. Us
+wukked in de ole days frum before sunup 'til black night an' us knowed
+whut wuk wuz. De beds us slep' on had roun' postes made outen saplins of
+hickory or little pine trees. De bark wuz tuk off an' dey wuz rubbed
+slick an' shiny. De sprangs wuz rope crossed frum one side uv de bed to
+de udder. De mattress wuz straw or cotton in big sacks made outen
+osnaberg or big salt sacks pieced tergether. Mammy didn't have much soap
+an' she uster scrub de flo' wid sand an' it wuz jes ez white. Yas mam,
+she made all de soap us used, but it tuk a heap. We'uns cooked in de
+ashes an' on hot coals, but de vittals tasted a heap better'n dey does
+nowadays. Mammy had to wuk in de fiel' an' den cum home an' cook fer
+marster an' his fambly. I didn' know nuthin' 'bout it 'till atter
+freedom but I hyearn 'em tell 'bout it.
+
+"Mammy an' pappy stayed on Marster's plantation 'til a year or mo' atter
+dey had dey freedom. Marster paid 'em wages an' a house ter stay in. He
+didn't hav' many slaves, 'bout 20, I reckon. My brothers wuz Berry,
+Dani'l, Ephriam, Tully, Bob, Lin, an' George. De yuthers I disremembers,
+caze dey lef' home when dey wuz big enough to earn dey livin' an' I jes
+don't recollec'.
+
+"Conjur' woman! Law miss, I aims ter git ter Hebem when I dies an' I
+show don't know how ter conjur' nobody. No mam, I ain't never seed no
+ghost. I allus pray to de Lord dat He spar' me dat trouble an' not let
+me see nary one. No good in folks plunderin' on dis earth atter dey
+leave here de fus time. Go 'way, dog."
+
+A spotted hound, lean and flop-eared was scratching industriously under
+Aunt Carrie's chair. It was a still summer day and the flies droned
+ceaselessly. A well nearby creaked as the dripping bucket was drawn to
+the top by a granddaughter who had come in from the field to get a cool
+drink. Aunt Carrie watched the girl for a moment and then went back to
+her story.
+
+"Effen my mammy or pappy ever runned away from Marster, I ain't heered
+tell uv it, but Mammy said dat when slaves did run away, dey wuz cotched
+an' whupped by de overseer. Effen a man or a 'oman kilt another one den
+dey wuz branded wid er hot i'on. Er big S wuz put on dey face somewhars.
+S stood fer 'slave, 'an' evvybody knowed dey wuz er mudderer. Marster
+din't have no overseer; he overseed hisself.
+
+"Why is George so white? 'Cause his marster wuz er white genemun named
+Mister Jimmie Dunn. His mammy wuz er cullud 'oman name' Frances Mason
+an' his marster wuz his paw. Yas mam, I see you is s'prised, but dat
+happ'ned a lots in dem days. I hyeared tell of er white man what would
+tell his sons ter 'go down ter dem nigger quarters an' git me mo'
+slaves.' Yas mam, when George wuz borned ter his mamny, his pappy wuz er
+white man an' he made George his overseer ez soon ez he wuz big e'nuf
+ter boss de yuther slaves. I wish he wuz able to tell yer 'bout it, but
+since he had dat las' stroke he ain't been able ter talk none."
+
+Aunt Carrie took an old clay pipe from her apron pocket and filled it
+with dry scraps of chewing tobacco. After lighting it she puffed quietly
+and seemed to be meditating. Finally she took it from her mouth and
+continued.
+
+"I ain't had no eddication. I 'tended school part of one term but I wuz
+so skairt of my teacher that I couldn't larn nuthin'. He wuz a ole white
+man. He had been teachin' fer years an' years, but he had a cancer an'
+dey had done stopped him frum teachin' white chillun'. His name wuz
+Mister Bill Greer. I wuz skairt 'cause he was a white man. No mam, no
+white man ain't never harmed me, but I wuz skairt of him enyhow. One day
+he says to me, 'chile I ain't goin to hurt yer none 'cause I'm white.'
+He wuz a mighty good ole man. He would have larned us mo' but he died de
+nex' year. Mammy paid him ten cents a mont' a piece fer all us chillun.
+De boys would wuk fer dey money but I wuz the onliest gal an' Mammy
+wouldn't let me go off de plantation to make none. Whut I made dar I
+got, but I didn't make much 'til atter I ma'ied.
+
+"Law honey, does yer want to know 'bout my ma'ige? Well, I wuz 15 years
+ole an' I had a preacher to ma'y me. His name wuz Andrew Brown. In dem
+days us allus waited 'til de time of year when us had a big meetin' or
+at Christmus time. Den effen one of us wanted ter git mai'ed, he would
+perform de weddin' atter de meetin' or atter Chris'mus celebratin'. I
+had er bluish worsted dress. I mai'ed in Jannywerry, right atter
+Chris'mus. At my mai'ge us had barbecue, brunswick stew, an' cake. De
+whole yard wuz full uv folks.
+
+"Mammy wuz a 'ligous 'oman an' de fust day of Chris'mus she allus fasted
+ha'f a day an' den she would pray. Atter dat evvybody would hav' eggnog
+an' barbecue an' cake effen dey had de money to buy it. Mammy said dat
+when dey wuz still slaves Marster allus gived 'em Chris'mus, but atter
+dey had freedom den dey had ter buy dey own rations. Us would have
+banjer playin' an' dance de pijen-wing and de shuffle-toe.
+
+"No mam, George's pa didn' leave him no lan' when he died. Us went ter
+another farm an' rented when de mai'ge wuz over. George's pa warn't
+dead, but he didn't offer to do nuthin' fer us.
+
+"Yas'um, I'se had eight chilluns of my own. Us ain' never had no lan' us
+could call our'n. Us jes moved from one farm ter another all our days.
+This here lan' us is on now 'longs ter Mr. Cline. My son an' his chillun
+wuks it an' dey give us whut dey kin spare. De Red Cross lady he'ps us
+an' us gits along somehow or nother."
+
+
+
+
+Works Progress Administration
+Harry L. Hopkins, Administrator
+Ellen S. Woodward, Assistant Administrator
+Henry S. Alsberg, Director of the Federal Writers' Project
+
+PLANTATION LIFE
+
+Interview with:
+SUSAN MATTHEWS, Age 84
+Madison Street,
+Macon, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Ruth H. Sanford,
+Macon, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+Annie A. Rose,
+Macon, Georgia
+
+
+Susan Matthews is an intelligent old negress, very tall and weighing
+close to two hundred pounds. Her eyes were bright, her "store-bought"
+teeth flashed in a smile as she expressed her willingness to tell us all
+she remembered "'bout ole times." In a tattered, faded print dress, a
+misshapen hat and ragged shoes, she sat enjoying the sunshine on the
+porch while she sewed on an underskirt she was making for herself from
+old sugar sacks. Her manner was cheerful; she seemed to get genuine
+enjoyment from the interview and gave us a hearty invitation to come to
+see her again.
+
+"I was jes a chile" she began, "when de white folks had slaves. My ma an
+her chillen wuz the onliest slaves my marster and mistis had. My pa
+belonged to some mo white folks that lived 'bout five miles from us. My
+marster and mistis were poor folks. They lived in a white frame house;
+it wuz jes a little house that had 'bout five rooms, I reckon. The house
+had a kitchen in the backyard and the house my ma lived wuz in the back
+yard too, but I wuz raised in my mistis' house. I slept in her room;
+slep' on the foot of her bed to keep her feets warm and everwhere my
+mistis went I went to. My marster and mistis wuz sho good to us an we
+loved 'em. My ma, she done the cooking and the washing fer the family
+and she could work in the fields jes lak a man. She could pick her three
+hundred pounds of cotton or pull as much fodder as any man. She wuz
+strong an she had a new baby mos' ev'y year. My marster and Mistis liked
+for to have a lot of chillen 'cause that helped ter make 'em richer."
+
+I didn't have much time fer playin' when I wus little cause I wuz allus
+busy waitin' on my mistis er taking care of my little brothers and
+sisters. But I did have a doll to play with. It wuz a rag doll an my
+mistis made it fer me. I wuz jes crazy 'bout that doll and I learned how
+to sew making clothes fer it. I'd make clothes fer it an wash an iron
+'em, and it wasn't long 'fo I knowed how to sew real good, an I been
+sewing ever since.
+
+My white folks wern't rich er tall but we always had plenty of somep'n
+to eat, and we had fire wood to keep us warm in winter too. We had
+plenty of syrup and corn bread, and when dey killed a hog we had fine
+sausage an chitlin's, an all sorts of good eating. My marster and the
+white an collored boys would go hunting, and we had squirrels an rabbits
+an possums jes lots of time. Yessum, we had plenty; we never did go
+hongry.
+
+"Does I remember 'bout the Yankees coming?, Yes ma'am, I sho does. The
+white chillen an us had been looking fer 'em and looking fer 'em. We
+wanted 'em to come. We knowed 'twould be fun to see 'em. And sho 'nuf
+one day I was out in de front yard to see and I seed a whole passel of
+men in blue coats coming down de road. I hollered "Here come de
+Yankees". I knowed 'twuz dem an my mistis an my ma an ev'y body come out
+in the front yard to see 'em. The Yankees stopped an the leading man
+with the straps on his shoulders talked to us an de men got water outen
+de well. No'm, they didn't take nothing an they hurt nothing. After a
+while they jes went on down the road; they sho looked hot an dusty an
+tired.
+
+"After de war wuz over my pa, he comed up to our house an got my ma an
+all us chillen an carries us down to his marster's place. I didn't want
+ter go cause I loved my mistis an she cried when we left. My pa's ole
+marster let him have some land to work on shares. My pa wuz a hard
+worker an we helped him an in a few years he bought a little piece of
+land an he owned it till he died. 'Bout once er twice a year we'd all go
+back ter see our mistis. She wuz always glad to see us an treated us
+fine.
+
+"After de war a white woman started a school fer nigger chillen an my pa
+sent us. This white lady wuz a ole maid an wuz mighty poor. She an her
+ma lived by dereselves, I reckon her pa had done got kilt in de war. I
+don't know 'bout that but I knows they wuz mighty poor an my pa paid her
+fer teaching us in things to eat from his farm. We didn't never have no
+money. I loved to go to school; I had a blue back speller an I learned
+real quick but we didn't get ter go all the time. When there wuz work
+ter do on the farm we had ter stop an do it.
+
+"Times warn't no better after de war wuz over an dey warnt no wuss. We
+wuz po before de war an we wuz po after de war. But we allus had somep'n
+to wear and plenty to eat an we never had no kick coming.
+
+"I never did get married. I'se a old maid nigger, an they tells me you
+don't see old maid niggers. How come I ain't married I don't know. Seems
+like when I was young I seed somep'n wrong with all de mens that would
+come around. Then atter while I wuz kinder ole an they didn't come
+around no mo. Jes' last week a man come by here what used to co't me. He
+seed me settin here on the porch an I says 'Come on in an set a while',
+an he did. So maybe, I ain't through co'tin, maybe I'll get married
+yet." Here she laughed gleefully.
+
+When asked which she preferred freedom or slavery she replied, "Well,
+being free wuz all right while I wuz young but now I'm old an I wish I
+b'longed to somebody cause they would take keer of me an now I ain't got
+nobody to take keer of me. The government gives me eight dollars a month
+but that don't go fer enough. I has er hard time cause I can't git
+around an work like I used to."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: DIST. 6
+Ex-slave #77]
+
+Alberta Minor
+Re-search Worker
+
+EMILY MAYS
+East Solomon Street,
+Griffin, Georgia
+Interviewed
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Emily was born in 1861 on the Billy Stevens plantation in Upson County.
+Her mother, Betsy Wych, was born at Hawkinsville, Georgia, and sold to
+Mr. Billy Stevens. The father, Peter Wych, was born in West Virginia. A
+free man, he was part Indian and when driving a team of oxen into
+Virginia for lime, got into the slave territory, was overtaken by a
+"speculator" and brought to Georgia where he was sold to the Wyches of
+Macon. He cooked for them at their Hotel, "The Brown House" for a number
+of years, then was sold "on the block" to Mr. Stevens of Upson County.
+Betsy was sold at this same auction. Betsy and Peter were married by
+"jumping the broomstick" after Mr. Stevens bought them. They had sixteen
+children, of which Emily is the next to the last. She was always a
+"puny", delicate child and her mother died when she was about seven
+years old. She heard people tell her father that she "wasn't intented to
+be raised" 'cause she was so little and her mother was "acomin' to get
+her soon." Hearing this kind of remarks often had a depressing effect
+upon the child, and she "watched the clouds" all the time expecting her
+mother and was "bathed in tears" most of the time.
+
+After the war, Peter rented a "patch" from Mr. Kit Parker and the whole
+family worked in the fields except Emily. She was not big enough so they
+let her work in the "big house" until Mrs. Parker's death. She helped
+"'tend" the daughter's babies, washed and ironed table napkins and
+waited on them "generally" for which she can't remember any "pay", but
+they fed and clothed her.
+
+Her older sister learned to weave when she was a slave, and helped sew
+for the soldiers; so after freedom she continued making cloth and sewing
+for the family while the others worked in the fields. [Buttons were made
+from dried gourds.] They lived well, raising more on their patch than
+they could possibly use and selling the surplus. For coffee they split
+and dried sweet potatoes, ground and parched them.
+
+The only education Emily received was at the "Sugar Hill" Sunday School.
+They were too busy in the spring for social gatherings, but after the
+crops were harvested, they would have "corn shuckings" where the Negroes
+gathered from neighboring farms and in three or four days time would
+finish at one place then move on to the next farm. It was quite a social
+gathering and the farm fed all the guests with the best they had.
+
+The Prayer Meetings and "singings" were other pleasant diversions from
+the daily toil.
+
+After Mrs. Parker's death Emily worked in her father's fields until she
+was married to Aaron Mays, then she came to Griffin where she has lived
+ever since. She is 75 years old and has cooked for "White folks" until
+she was just too old to "see good", so she now lives with her daughter.
+
+
+
+
+INTERVIEW WITH LIZA MENTION
+BEECH ISLAND, S.C.
+
+Written and Edited By:
+Leila Harris
+and
+John N. Booth
+
+Federal Writers' Project
+Augusta, Georgia
+
+March 25, 1938
+
+
+"Come right in. Have a seat. I'll be glad to tell you anything I can
+'bout dem early days", said Liza Mention. "Course I warn't born till de
+second year atter freedom, so I don't 'member nothin' 'bout all dat
+fightin' durin' de war. I'se sho' glad I warn't born in slavery from
+what I heared 'em tell 'bout dem patterollers ketchin' and beatin' up
+folks." Liza's house, a 2-room hut with a narrow front porch, stands in
+a peaceful spot on the edge of the Wilson plantation at Beech Island,
+South Carolina. A metal sign on the door which revealed that the
+property is protected by a theft insurance service aroused wonder as to
+what Liza had that could attract a burglar. The bedroom was in extreme
+disorder with clothing, shoes, bric-a-brac, and just plain junk
+scattered about. The old Negress had been walking about the sunshiny
+yard and apologized for the mess by saying that she lived alone and did
+as she pleased. "Folks says I oughtn't to stay here by myself," she
+remarked, "but I laks to be independent. I cooked 25 years for de Wilson
+fambly and dey is gonna let me have dis house free 'til I die 'cause I
+ain't able to do no work."
+
+Liza's close-fitting hat pinned her ears to her head. She wore a dress
+that was soiled and copiously patched and her worn out brogans were
+several sizes too large. Ill health probably accounts for this
+untidiness for, as she expressed it, "when I gits up I hate to set down
+and when I sets down, I hates to git up, my knees hurts me so," however,
+her face broke into a toothless grin on the slightest provocation.
+
+"I wuz born up on de Reese's place in McDuffie County near Thomson,
+Georgia. When I wuz chillun us didn't know nothin' 'bout no wuk," she
+volunteered. "My ma wuz a invalis (invalid) so when I wuz 6 years old
+she give me to her sister over here at Mr. Ed McElmurray's place to
+raise. I ain't never knowed who my pa wuz. Us chaps played all de time
+wid white chillun jus' lak dey had all been Niggers. Chillun den didn't
+have sense lak dey got now; us wuz satisfied jus' to play all de time. I
+'members on Sundays us used to take leaves and pin 'em together wid
+thorns to make usselves dresses and hats to play in. I never did go to
+school none so I don't know nothin' 'bout readin' and writin' and
+spellin'. I can't spell my own name, but I think it begins wid a M.
+Hit's too late to study 'bout all dat now 'cause my old brain couldn't
+learn nothin'. Hit's done lost most all of what little I did know.
+
+"Back in dem times, folkses cooked on open fireplaces in winter time and
+in summer dey built cook stands out in de yard to set de spiders on, so
+us could cook and eat outdoors. Dere warn't no stoves nowhar. When us
+wuz hard up for sompin' green to bile 'fore de gyardens got goin' good,
+us used to go out and git wild mustard, poke salad, or pepper grass. Us
+et 'em satisfactory and dey never kilt us. I have et heaps of kinds of
+diffunt weeds and I still eats a mess of poke salad once or twice a year
+'cause it's good for you. Us cooked a naked hunk of fat meat in a pot
+wid some corn dumplin's.
+
+"De grown folks would eat de meat and de chilluns would sit around on de
+floor and eat de potlikker and dumplin's out of tin pans. Us enjoyed dat
+stuff jus' lak it had been pound cake.
+
+"Dances in dem days warn't dese here huggin' kind of dances lak dey has
+now. Dere warn't no Big Apple nor no Little Apple neither. Us had a
+house wid a raised flatform (platform) at one end whar de music-makers
+sot. Dey had a string band wid a fiddle, a trumpet, and a banjo, but
+dere warn't no guitars lak dey has in dis day. One man called de sets
+and us danced de cardrille (quadrille) de virginia reel, and de 16-hand
+cortillion. When us made syrup on de farm dere would always be a candy
+pullin'. Dat homemade syrup made real good candy. Den us would have a
+big time at corn shuckin's too.
+
+"I don't believe in no conjuration. Ain't nobody never done nothin' to
+me but I have seed people dat other folks said had been hurt. If
+somebody done somethin' to me I wouldn't know whar to find a root-worker
+to take it off and anyways I wouldn't trust dem sort of folks 'cause if
+dey can cyore you dey can kill you too.
+
+"I'se a member of de Silver Bluff Baptist Church, and I been goin' to
+Sunday School dar nearly ever since I can 'member. You know dey say
+dat's de oldest Nigger church in de country. At fust a white man come
+from Savannah and de church wuz built for his family and dey slaves.
+Later dere wuz so many colored members de white folks come out and built
+another house so de niggers could have de old one. When dat ole church
+wuz tore down, de colored folks worshipped for a long time in a goat
+house and den in a brush arbor.
+
+"Some folks calls it de Dead River Church 'cause it used to be near Dead
+River and de baptisin' wuz done dar for a long time. I wuz baptised dar
+myself and I loves de old spot of ground. I has tried to be a good
+church member all my life but it's hard fer me to get a nickel or a dime
+for preacher money now."
+
+When asked if people in the old days got married by jumping over a broom
+she made a chuckling sound and replied: "No, us had de preacher but us
+didn't have to buy no license and I can't see no sense in buyin' a
+license nohow, 'cause when dey gits ready to quit, dey just quits."
+
+Liza brought an old Bible from the other room in which she said she kept
+the history of the old church. There were also pictures from some of her
+"white folks" who had moved to North Carolina. "My husband has been daid
+for 40 years," she asserted, "and I hasn't a chile to my name, nobody to
+move nothin' when I lays it down and nobody to pick nothin' up. I gets
+along pretty well most of de time though, but I wishes I could work so I
+would feel more independent."
+
+
+
+
+District Two
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+
+AUNT HARRIET MILLER
+Toccoa, Georgia
+(Stephens County)
+
+Written By:
+Mrs. Annie Lee Newton
+Research Worker
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited By:
+John N. Booth
+Asst. District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+July 15, 1937
+
+
+Aunt Harriet Miller, a chipper and spry Indian Half-breed, thinks she is
+about 100 years old. It is remarkable that one so old should possess so
+much energy and animation. She is tall and spare, with wrinkled face,
+bright eyes, a kindly expression, and she wears her iron grey hair wound
+in a knob in the manner of a past generation. Aunt Harriet was neatly
+dressed as she had just returned from a trip to Cornelia to see some of
+her folks. She did not appear at all tired from the trip, and seemed
+glad to discuss the old days.
+
+"My father," said Aunt Harriet, "was a Cherokee Indian named Green
+Norris, and my mother was a white woman named Betsy Richards. You see, I
+am mixed. My mother give me to Mr. George Naves when I was three years
+old. He lived in de mountains of South Carolina, just across de river.
+He didn't own his home. He was overseer for de Jarretts, old man Kennedy
+Jarrett. Honey, people was just like dey is now, some good and some bad.
+Mr. Naves was a good man. Dese here Jarretts was good to deir slaves but
+de ----s was mean to deirs. My whitefolks tried to send me to school but
+de whitefolks wouldn't receive me in deir school on account of I was
+mixed, and dere warn't no colored school a t'all, nowhere. Some of de
+white ladies taught deir slaves. Yes'm, some of 'em did. Now, Miss
+Sallie Jarrett, dat was Mrs. Bob Jarrett's daughter, used to teach 'em
+some.
+
+"Slaves had half a day off on Saturday. Dey had frolics at night,
+quiltings, dances, corn-shuckings, and played de fiddle. Dey stayed in
+de quarters Sunday or went to church. Dey belonged to de same church wid
+de whitefolks. I belonged to Old Liberty Baptist Church. De back seats
+was whar de slaves set. Dey belonged to de same church just like de
+whitefolks, but I wasn't with 'em much." As a child, Aunt Harriet
+associated with white people, and played with white children, but when
+she grew up, had to turn to negroes for companionship.
+
+"If slaves stayed in deir places dey warn't never whipped or put in
+chains. When company come I knowed to get out doors. I went on to my
+work. I was treated all right. I don't remember getting but three
+whippings in my life. Old Mistis had brown sugar, a barrel of sugar
+setting in de dinin' room. She'd go off and she'd come back and ask me
+'bout de sugar. She'd get after me 'bout it and I'd say I hadn't took
+it, and den when she turned my dress back and whipped me I couldn't
+hardly set down. She whipped me twice 'bout the sugar and den she let me
+alone. 'Twasn't de sugar she whipped me 'bout, but she was trying to get
+me to tell de truth. Yes'm, dat was de best lesson dat ever I learned,
+to tell de truth, like David.
+
+"I had a large fambly. Lets see, I had ten chillun, two of 'em dead, and
+I believes 'bout 40 grand-chillun. I could count 'em. Last time I was
+counting de great-grandchillun dere was 37 but some have come in since
+den. Maggie has 11 chillun. Maggie's husband is a farmer and dey lives
+near Eastonallee. Lizzie, her husband is dead and she lives wid a
+daughter in Chicago, has 5 chillun. Den Media has two. Her husband,
+Hillary Campbell, works for de Govemint, in Washington. Lieutenant has
+six; he farms. Robert has six; Robert is a regular old farmer and Sunday
+School teacher. Davey has four, den Luther has seven, and dat leaves
+Jim, my baby boy. He railroads and I lives wid him. Jim is 37. He ain't
+got no chillun. My husband, Judge Miller, been dead 37 years. He's
+buried at Tugalo. Dis old lady been swinging on a limb a long time and
+she going to swing off from here some time. I'm near about a hundred and
+I won't be here long, but when I go, I wants to go in peace wid
+everybody.
+
+"I don't know. I'd be 'feard to say dere ain't nothing in voo-doo. Some
+puts a dime in de shoe to keep de voo-doo away, and some carries a
+buckeye in de pocket to keep off cramp and colic. Dey say a bone dey
+finds in de jawbone of a hog will make chillun teethe easy. When de
+slaves got sick, de whitefolks looked after 'em. De medicines for
+sickness was nearly all yerbs. Dey give boneset for colds, made tea out
+of it, and acheing joints. Butterfly root and slippery elm bark was to
+cool fever. Willow ashes is good for a corn, poke root for rheumatism,
+and a syrup made of mullein, honey, and alum for colds. Dey use barks
+from dogwood, wild cherry, and clack haws, for one thing and another.
+I'll tell you what's good for pizen-oak, powdered alum and sweet cream.
+Beat it if it's lump alum, and put it in sweet cream, not milk, it has
+to be cream. Dere's lots of other remedies and things, but I'm getting
+so sap-skulled and I'm so old I can't remember. Yes'm, I've got mighty
+trifling 'bout my remembrance.
+
+"Once some Indians camped on de river bottoms for three or four years,
+and we'd go down; me, and Anne, and Genia, nearly every Saturday, to
+hear 'em preach. We couldn't understand it. Dey didn't have no racket or
+nothing like colored folks. Dey would sing, and it sounded all right. We
+couldn't understand it, but dey enjoyed it. Dey worked and had crops.
+Dey had ponies, pretty ponies. Nobody never did bother 'em. Dey made
+baskets out of canes, de beautifulest baskets, and dey colored 'em wid
+dyes, natchel dyes.
+
+"Indian woman wore long dresses and beads. Deir hair was plaited and
+hanging down de back, and deir babyes was tied on a blanket on de back.
+Mens wore just breeches and feathers in deir hats. I wish you could have
+seen 'em a cooking. Dey would take corn dough, and den dey'd boil birds,
+make sort of long, not round dumplings, and drop 'em in a pot of hot
+soup. We thought dat was terrible, putting dat in de pot wid de birds.
+Dey had blow-guns and dey'd slip around, and first thing dey'd blow, and
+down come a bird. Dey'd kill a squirrel and ketch fish wid deir blow
+guns. Dem guns was made out of canes 'bout eight feet long, burned out
+at de j'ints for de barrel. Dey put in a arrow what had thistles on one
+end to make it go through quick and de other end sharp.
+
+"Yes honey, I believes in hants. I was going 'long, at nine o'clock one
+night 'bout the Denham fill and I heard a chain a rattling 'long de
+cross-ties. I couldn't see a thing and dat chain just a rattling as
+plain as if it was on dis floor. Back, since the war, dere was a
+railroad gang working 'long by dis fill, and de boss, Captain Wing,
+whipped a convict. It killed him, and de boss throwed him in de fill. I
+couldn't see a thing, and dat chain was just rattling right agai' de
+fill where dat convict had been buried. I believes de Lord took keer of
+me dat night and I hope he keeps on doing so."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-Slave #75]
+
+Folklore
+Alberta Minor
+Re-search Worker
+
+MOLLIE MITCHELL, Ex Negro Slave
+507 East Chappell Street
+Griffin, Georgia
+
+August 31, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Mollie Mitchell, a white haired old darkey, 85 years old was born on the
+Newt Woodard plantation. It is the old Jackson Road near Beulah Church.
+Until she was 7 years old she helped about the house running errands for
+her "Missus", "tendin' babies", "sweeping the yard", and "sich." At 7
+she was put in the fields. The first day at work she was given certain
+rows to hoe but she could not keep in the row. The Master came around
+twice a day to look at what they had done and when it was not done
+right, he whipped them. "Seems like I got whipped all day long," she
+said. One time when Mollie was about 13 years old, she was real sick,
+the master and missus took her to the bathing house where there was
+"plenty of hot water." They put her in a tub of hot water then took her
+out, wrapped her in blankets and sheets and put her in cold water. They
+kept her there 4 or 5 days doing that until they broke her fever.
+Whenever the negroes were sick, they always looked after them and had a
+doctor if necessary. At Christmas they had a whole week holiday and
+everything they wanted to eat. The negroes lived a happy carefree life
+unless they "broke the rules." If one lied or stole or did not work or
+did not do his work right or stayed out over the time of their pass,
+they were whipped. The "pass" was given them to go off on Saturday. It
+told whose "nigger" they were and when they were due back, usually by 4
+o'clock Sunday afternoon or Monday morning. "The patta-roll" (patrol)
+came by to see your pass and if you were due back home, they would give
+you a whippin'!"
+
+Mollie was 15 years old when the master came out in the fields and told
+them they were as free as he was. Her family stayed with him. He gave
+them a horse or mule, their groceries and a "patch to work", that they
+paid for in about three years time. Before the war whenever his slaves
+reached 70 years, the master set them free and gave them a mule, cow and
+a "patch". Mollie can remember her grandmother and grandfather getting
+theirs. When Mollie married (17 years old), she moved to her husband's
+farm. She had 9 children. She had to "spin the cloth" for their clothes,
+and did any kind of work, even the men's work too. Out of herbs she made
+syrup for worms for her children. With the barks of different trees she
+made the spring tonic and if their "stomachs was wrong", she used red
+oak bark. When she was younger, she would "dream a dream" and see it
+"jes' as clear" next morning and it always came true, but now since
+she's aged her dreams are "gone away" by next morning. When she was a
+little girl, they made them go to Sunday School and taught them out of a
+"blue back speller". After freedom, they were sent to day school "some".
+The "little missus" used to teach her upstairs after they were supposed
+to be in bed. She's been a member of the Methodist Church since she was
+17 years old. Mollie's husband was always a farmer and he always planted
+by the moon. Potatoes, turnips and things that grow under the ground
+were planted in the dark of the moon while beans and peas and things
+that develope on top the ground were planted in the light of the moon.
+
+She said she couldn't remember many superstitions but she knew a
+rabbit's foot was tied round your neck or waist for luck and a crowing
+hen was bad luck, so bad that they killed them and "put 'em in the pot"
+whenever they found one. When you saw a cat washing its face, it was
+going to rain sure.
+
+Mollie is quite wrinkled, has thinning white hair, very bad teeth but
+fairly active physically and her mind is moderately clear.
+
+
+
+
+Elizabeth Watson
+
+BOB MOBLEY, Ex-Slave, Aged about 90
+Pulaski County, Georgia
+(1937)
+[Date Stamp: JUL 20 1937]
+
+
+When recently interviewed, this aged colored man--the soul of humbleness
+and politeness--and long a resident of Pulaski County, sketched his life
+as follows (his language reconstructed):
+
+"I was the seventh child of the eleven children born to Robert and
+Violet Hammock, slaves of Mr. Henry Mobley of Crawford County. My
+parents were also born in Crawford County.
+
+My master was well-to-do: he owned a great deal of land and many
+Negroes.
+
+Macon was our nearest trading town--and Mr. Mobley sold his cotton and
+did his trading there, though he sent his children to school at
+Knoxville (Crawford County).
+
+My mother was the family cook, and also superintended the cooking for
+many of the slaves.
+
+We slaves had a good time, and none of us were abused or mistreated,
+though young Negroes were sometimes whipped--when they deserved it.
+Grown Negro men, in those days, wore their hair long and, as a
+punishment to them for misconduct (etc.), the master cut their hair off.
+
+I was raised in my master's house--slept in his room when I was a small
+boy, just to be handy to wait on him when he needed anything.
+
+If a slave became sick, a doctor was promptly called to attend him. My
+mother was also a kind of doctor and often rode all over the plantation
+to dose ailing Negroes with herb teas and home medicines which she was
+an adept in compounding. In cases of [HW: minor] illness, she could
+straighten up the sick in no time.
+
+Before the war started, I took my young master to get married, and we
+were certainly dressed up. You have never seen a Nigger and a white man
+as dressed up as we were on that occasion.
+
+An aunt of mine was head weaver on our plantation, and she bossed the
+other women weavers and spinners. Two or three seamstresses did all the
+sewing.
+
+In winter time we slaves wore wool, which had been dyed before the cloth
+was cut. In summer we wore light goods.
+
+We raised nearly every thing that we ate, except sugar and coffee, and
+made all the shoes and clothes worn on the place, except the white
+ladies' silks, fine shawls, and slippers, and the men's broadcloths and
+dress boots.
+
+My young master went to the war, but his father was too old to go. When
+we heard that the Yankees were coming, old mister refugeed to Dooly
+County--where he bought a new farm, and took his Negroes with him. But
+the new place was so poor that, right after the war closed, he moved
+back to his old plantation. I stayed with Mr. Henry for a long time
+after freedom, then came to Hawkinsville to work at the carpenter's
+trade. And I did pretty well here until I fell off a house several years
+ago, since which time I haven't been much good--not able to do hardly
+any work at all."
+
+
+Now old, feeble, and physically incapacitated, "Uncle" Bob lives with a
+stepdaughter--a woman of 72--who, herself, is failing fast. Both are
+supported mainly by Pulaski County and the Federal Government.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-Slave #79]
+
+Folklore
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-Search Worker
+
+FANNY NIX--Ex-Slave
+Interviewed
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Fanny was born in slavery and was "a great big girl" when the slaves
+were freed but does not know her exact age, however, she thinks that she
+was "at least twelve when the War broke out." According to this method
+of estimating her age, Fanny is about eighty-seven.
+
+The old woman's parents were John Arnold and Rosetta Green, who were
+married 'away befo de wah' by steppin' over the broom' in the presence
+of "old Marse," and a lot of colored friends.
+
+Fanny does not know where her parents were born, but thinks that they
+were born in Upson County near Thomaston, Georgia, and knows that she
+and her two brothers and other sister were.
+
+Fanny and her family were owned by Judge Jim Green. Judge Green had a
+hundred or so acres of land Fanny 'reckon', and between twenty-five and
+seventy-five slaves.
+
+"The Marster was just as good as he could be to all the slaves, and
+especially to the little chillun." "The Judge did not 'whup' much--and
+used a peach tree limb and done it hisself. There wuzn't no strop at
+Marse Green's big house."
+
+Rosetta Green, the mother of Fanny, "cooked and washed for Judge Green
+for yeahs and yeahs." Fanny "found her mammy a cookin' at the big house
+the fust thing she knowed."
+
+As Fanny grew up, she was trained by "ole Miss" to be a house girl, and
+did "sech wuk" as churning, minding the flies "offen de table when de
+white folks et, gwine backards and forads to de smoke-house for my
+mammy."
+
+She recalls that when she "minded the flies offen the table she allus
+got plenty of biscuits and scraps o' fried chicken the white folks left
+on their plates." "But," Fanny added with a satisfied smile, "Marse
+Green's darkies never wanted for sumpin t'eat, case he give 'em a
+plenty, even molasses all dey wanted." Fanny and her mammy always ate in
+"de Missis kitchen."
+
+"Yes," said Fanny, "I remembers when de Yankees come through, it tickled
+us chillun and skeered us too! Dey wuz mo'n a hundred, Miss, riding
+mighty po' ole wore out hosses. All de men wanted wuz sumpin' t'eat and
+some good hosses. De men poured into de smokehouse and de kitchen (here
+Fanny had to laugh again) an how dem Yankee mens did cut and hack "Ole
+Marse's" best hams! After dey et all dey could hol' dey saddled up "ole
+Marse's" fine hosses an' away dey rid!"
+
+When asked why the white folks did not hide the horses out in the swamps
+or woods, Fanny replied, "case, dey didn't have time. Dem Yankees
+pounced down like hawks after chickens!" "Ole Marse jost did have time
+to 'scape to de woods hisself." The Judge was too old to go to the war.
+
+John Arnold, Fanny's daddy, was owned by Mr. John Arnold on an adjoining
+plantation to Judge Greene, and when he and Fanny's mother were married,
+John was allowed to visit Rosetta each week-end. Of course he had to
+carry a pass from his "Marster."
+
+John and Rosetta "never lived together year in and year out," according
+to Fanny's statement, "till long after freedom."
+
+Fanny relates that Judge Green's slaves all went to "meetin" every
+Sunday in the white folks church. The darkies going in the after-noon
+and the white people going in the forenoon.
+
+The white preacher ministered to both the white and colored people.
+
+If the Negroes were sick and needed mo [HW: den] "old Marse" knowed what
+to give em, he "sont the white folk's doctor." "You see, Miss," said old
+Fanny with pride, "I wuz owned by big white folks."
+
+She tells that Judge Green had two young sons (not old enough to fight)
+and three daughters, 'jest little shavers, so high', (here Fanny
+indicated from three, to four or five feet at intervals, to indicate
+small children's height,) then added, "We allus said, 'Little Miss
+Peggy', 'Little Miss Nancy', and 'Little Missz Jane', and 'Young Marse
+Jim' and 'Little Marster Bob'". "Did you ever forget to speak to the
+children in that way?" the interviewer asked. "No, Miss, we sho didn't,
+we knowed better dan to fergit!"
+
+
+Fanny is very feeble in every way, voice is weak and her step most
+uncertain, but she is straight of figure, and was ripping up smoking
+tobacco sacks with which her daughter is to make 'a purty bed spread'.
+Fanny and her husband, another ex-slave, live with Fanny's daughter. The
+daughter supports her mother.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-Slave #80]
+
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-Search Worker
+
+HENRY NIX--Ex-Slave
+808 E. Slaton Ave.
+Griffin, Georgia
+Interviewed
+
+September 24, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+[TR: Numerous handwritten changes were made in this interview. Where a
+word appears in brackets after a HW entry, it was replaced by that
+handwritten entry. All numbers were originally spelled out.]
+
+
+Henry Nix was born March 15, 1848 in Upson County, about 5 miles from
+Barnesville, Georgia.
+
+[HW: His] [Henry's] parents were John Nix and Catherine Willis, who were
+not married, because as Henry reports, John Nix was an overseer on the
+plantation of Mr. Jasper Willis, "and when Marster found out what kind
+of man John Nix was he (Nix) had to skip out."
+
+When Henry "was a good sized boy, his mother married a darky man", and 3
+other children were born, 2 boys and a girl. Henry loved his mother very
+much and [HW: says] relates that on her death bed she told him who his
+father was, and [TR: "also told him" crossed out] how to live so as not
+to get into trouble, and, [HW: due to her advice] that he has never been
+in jail nor in any meanness of any kind [TR: "due to what she told him"
+crossed out].
+
+Mr. Jasper Willis, [TR: "who was" crossed out] Henry's owner, lived on a
+large plantation of about 300 three hundred acres in Upson County, [HW:
+and] [Mr. Willis] owned only about 50 or 60 slaves as well as Henry can
+remember. The old man considers Mr. Willis "the best marster that a
+darky ever had," saying that he "sho" made his darkies work and mind,
+but he never beat them or let the patter-role do it, though sometimes he
+did use a switch on 'em". Henry recalls that he received "a sound
+whuppin onct, 'case he throwed a rock at one o' Marse Jasper's fine cows
+and broke her laig!"
+
+When asked if Mr. Willis had the slaves taught to read and write, Henry
+hooted at the idea, saying emphatically, "No, Mam, 'Ole Marse' wuz sho
+hard about dat. He said 'Niggers' wuz made by de good Lawd to work, and
+onct when my Uncle stole a book and wuz a trying to learn how to read
+and write, Marse Jasper had the white doctor take off my Uncle's fo'
+finger right down to de 'fust jint'. Marstar said he fixed dat darky as
+a sign fo de res uv 'em! No, Miss, we wuzn't larned!"
+
+Mr. Willis allowed his slaves from Saturday at noon till Monday morning
+as a holiday, and then they always had a week for Christmas. All of the
+Negroes went to meeting on Sunday afternoon in the white people's church
+and were served by the white minister.
+
+Henry says that they had a "circuit doctor" on his Marster's place and
+the doctor came around regularly at least every two weeks, "case Marster
+paid him to do so and [HW: he] 'xamined evah darky big and little on dat
+plantation."
+
+One time Henry recalls that he "had a turrible cowbunkle" on the back of
+his neck and 'marse' had the doctor to cut it open. Henry knowed better
+den to holler and cut up, too, when it was done.
+
+The old man remembers going to war with his young master and remaining
+with him for the two years he was in service. They were in Richmond when
+the city surrendered to Grant and soon after that the young master was
+killed in the fight at Tumlin Gap. Henry hardly knows how he got back to
+"Ole Marster" but is thankful he did.
+
+After freedom, [HW: al]most all of Mr. Willis' darkies stayed on with
+him but Henry "had to act smart and run away." He went over into Alabama
+and managed "to keep [TR: "his" crossed out] body and soul together
+somehow, for several years and then [TR: "he" crossed out] went back to
+"Ole Marster."
+
+Henry is well and rather active for his 87 or 88 years and likes to
+work. He has a job now cleaning off the graves at the white cemetery but
+he and his wife depend mainly [HW: for support] on their son [TR: "for
+support" crossed out], who lives just across the street from them.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6]
+
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-Search Worker
+
+LEWIS OGLETREE--Ex-Slave
+501 E. Tinsley Street
+Griffin, Georgia
+
+August 21, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+[TR: Numerous handwritten changes were made in this interview. Where a
+word appears in brackets after a HW entry, it was replaced by that
+handwritten entry.]
+
+
+Lewis Ogletree was born on the plantation of Mr. Fred Crowder of
+Spalding County, Georgia [HW: Ga], near Griffin. [HW: He] [Lewis] does
+not know exactly when he was born, but says that [TR: "he knows that"
+crossed out] he was maybe 17 years old at the end of the war in '65.
+This would make him 88 now.
+
+Mr. Crowder was the owner of a large number of slaves and among them
+was Lettie Crowder, [TR: "(married an Ogletree) the" crossed out]
+housekeeper and head servant in the home of Mr. Fred Crowder. Lettie was
+Lewis' mother.
+
+Lewis remembers standing inside the picket fence with a lot of other
+little pick-a-ninnies watching for Sherman's Army, and when the Yankees
+got close enough to be heard plainly, they hid in the bushes or under
+the house.
+
+The Yankees poured into the yard and into the house, making Lettie open
+the smoke-house and get them Mr. Crowder's best whiskey and oftentimes
+they made her cook them a meal of ham and eggs.
+
+Mr. Crowder, Lettie's master, was ill during the war, having a cancer on
+his left hand.
+
+Lewis reports that Mr. Crowder was a very hard master but a good one
+saying, "That it wasn't any use for the "patty-role" (the Patrol) to
+come to Marse Crowder's, 'cause he would not permit him to "tech one of
+his darkies."
+
+Mrs. Crowder, the "ole mistis", had died just before the war broke out
+and Mr. Crowder lived alone with his house servants.
+
+There were two young sons in the war. The oldest son, Col. Crowder, was
+in Virginia.
+
+Lewis said that his Master whipped him only once and that was for
+stealing. One day when the old master was taking a nap, Lewis "minding
+off the flies" and thinking his "marster" asleep slipped over to the big
+table and snatched some candy. Just as he picked up a lump, (it was
+"rock candy,") "Wham! Old [HW: Marster] [mastah] had me, and when he got
+through, well, Lewis, didn't steal anymore candy nor nothin'." "Mastah
+nevah took no foolishness from his darkies."
+
+Lewis remembers very clearly when Mr. Crowder gave his darkies their
+freedom. "Mastah sont me and my mammy out to the cabin to tell all de
+darkies to come up to de "big house". When they got there, there were so
+many that [HW: they] [some] were up on the porch, on the steps and all
+over the yard."
+
+"Mr. Crowder stood up on the porch and said, "You darkies are all free
+now. You don't belong to me no more. Now pack up your things and go on
+off." My Lord! How them darkies did bawl! And most of them did not leave
+ole mastah."
+
+
+
+
+[RICHARD ORFORD, Age around 85]
+
+
+The following version of slavery was told by Mr. Richard Orford of 54
+Brown Avenue in South Atlanta. Mr. Orford is large in statue and
+although 85 years of age he has a very active mind as well as a good
+sense of humor.
+
+Mr. Orford was born in Pike County, Georgia (near the present site of
+Griffin) in 1842. His master's name was Jeff Orford. Mr. Orford
+describes him as follows: "Marster wus a rich man an' he had 'bout 250
+slaves--'course dat was'nt so many 'cause some of de folks 'round dere
+had 400 and 500. He had plenty of land too--I don't know how many acres.
+He raised everything he needed on de plantation an' never had to buy
+nothing. I 'members when de Yankees come through--ol' marster had 'bout
+200 barrels of whiskey hid in de smokehouse--dat wus de fust time I ever
+got drunk."
+
+"Besides hisself an' his wife ol' marster had two boys an' nine girls".
+
+Continuing, Mr. Orford said: "My Ma did'nt have many chillun--jus' ten
+boys an' nine girls. I went to work in marster's house when I wus five
+years old an' I stayed dere 'till I wus thirty-five. De fust work I had
+to do wus to pick up chips, feed chickens, an' keep de yard clean. By de
+time I wus eight years old I wus drivin' my missus in de carriage."
+
+"All de rest of de slaves wus fiel' hands. Dey spent dere time plowing
+an' takin' care of de plantation in general. Dere wus some who split
+rails an' others who took care of de stock an' made de harness--de
+slaves did everything dat needed to be done on de plantation. Everybody
+had to git up 'fore daybreak an' even 'fore it wus light enuff to see
+dey wus in de fiel' waitin' to see how to run a furrow. 'Long 'bout nine
+o'clock breakfus' wus sent to de fiel' in a wagon an' all of 'em stopped
+to eat. At twelve o'clock dey stopped again to eat dinner. After dat dey
+worked 'till it wus to dark to see. Women in dem days could pick
+five-hundred pounds of cotton a day wid a child in a sack on dere
+backs."
+
+"When de weather wus too bad to work in de fiel' de hands cribed an'
+shucked corn. If dey had any work of dere own to do dey had to do it at
+night".
+
+According to Mr. Orford there was always sufficient food on the Orford
+plantation for the slaves. All cooking was done by one cook at the cook
+house. In front of the cook house were a number of long tables where the
+slaves ate their meals when they came in from the fields. Those children
+who were too young to work in the fields were also fed at this house but
+instead of eating from the tables as did the grown-ups they were fed
+from long troughs much the same as little pigs. Each was given a spoon
+at meal time and then all of the food was dumped into the trough at the
+same time.
+
+The week day diet for the most part consisted of meats and
+vegetables--"sometimes we even got chicken an' turkey"--says Mr. Orford.
+Coffee was made by parching meal or corn and then boiling it in water.
+None of the slaves ever had to steal anything to eat on the Orford
+plantation.
+
+All of the clothing worn on this plantation was made there. Some of the
+women who were too old to work in the fields did the spinning and the
+weaving as well as the sewing of the garments. Indigo was used to dye
+the cloth. The women wore callico dresses and the men wore ansenberg
+pants and shirts. The children wore a one piece garment not unlike a
+slightly lengthened dress. This was kept in place by a string tied
+around their waists. There were at least ten shoemakers on the
+plantation and they were always kept bust [TR: busy?] making shoes
+although no slave ever got but one pair of shoes a year. These shoes
+were made of very hard leather and were called brogans.
+
+In the rear of the master's house was located the slave's quarters. Each
+house was made of logs and was of the double type so that two families
+could be accommodated. The holes and chinks in the walls were daubed
+with mud to keep the weather out. At one end of the structure was a
+large fireplace about six feet in width. The chimney was made of dirt.
+
+As for furniture Mr. Orford says: "You could make your own furniture if
+you wanted to but ol' marster would give you a rope bed an' two or three
+chairs an' dat wus all. De mattress wus made out of a big bag or a
+tickin' stuffed wid straw--dat wus all de furniture in any of de
+houses."
+
+"In dem days folks did'nt git sick much like dey do now, but when dey
+did de fust thing did fer 'em wus to give 'em blue mass. If dey had a
+cold den dey give 'em blue mass pills. When dey wus very sick de marster
+sent fer de doctor."
+
+"Our ol' marster wus'nt like some of de other marsters in de
+community--he never did do much whuppin of his slaves. One time I hit a
+white man an' ol' marster said he was goin' to cut my arm off an' dat
+wus de las' I heard of it. Some of de other slaves useter git whuppins
+fer not workin' an' fer fightin'. My mother got a whuppin once fer not
+workin'. When dey got so bad ol' marster did'nt bother 'bout whuppin'
+'em--he jes' put 'em on de block an' en' sold 'em like he would a
+chicken or somethin'. Slaves also got whuppins when dey wus caught off
+the plantation wid out a pass--de Paddie-Rollers whupped you den. I have
+knowed slaves to run away an' hide in de woods--some of 'em even raised
+families dere."
+
+"None of us wus allowed to learn to read or to write but we could go to
+church along wid de white folks. When de preacher talked to de slaves he
+tol' 'em not to steal fum de marster an' de missus 'cause dey would be
+stealing fum dere selves--he tol' 'em to ask fer what dey wanted an' it
+would be givven to 'em."
+
+When Sherman marched through Georgia a number of the slaves on the
+Orford plantation joined his army. However, a large number remained on
+the plantation even after freedom was declared. Mr. Orford was one of
+those who remained. While the Yankee soldiers were in the vicinity of
+the Orford plantation Mr. Orford, the owner of the plantation, hid in
+the woods and had some of the slaves bring his food, etc. to him.
+
+Mr. Orford was thirty-five years of age when he left the plantation and
+at that time he married a twelve year old girl. Since that time he has
+been the father of twenty-three children, some of whom are dead and some
+of whom are still alive.
+
+
+
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+
+ANNA PARKES, Age 86
+150 Strong Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Residencies 6 & 7
+Augusta, Georgia
+
+
+Anna Parkes' bright eyes sparkled as she watched the crowd that thronged
+the hallway outside the office where she awaited admittance. A trip to
+the downtown section is a rare event in the life of an 86 year old
+Negress, and, accompanied by her daughter, she was making the most of
+this opportunity to see the world that lay so far from the door of the
+little cottage where she lives on Strong Street. When asked if she liked
+to talk of her childhood days before the end of the Civil War, she
+eagerly replied: "'Deed, I does." She was evidently delighted to have
+found someone who actually wanted to listen to her, and proudly
+continued:
+
+"Dem days sho' wuz sompin' to talk 'bout. I don't never git tired of
+talkin' 'bout 'em. Paw, he wuz Olmstead Lumpkin, and Ma wuz Liza
+Lumpkin, and us b'longed to Jedge Joe Henry Lumpkin. Us lived at de
+Lumpkin home place on Prince Avenue. I wuz born de same week as Miss
+Callie Cobb, and whilst I don't know z'ackly what day I wuz born, I kin
+be purty sho' 'bout how many years ole I is by axin' how ole Miss Callie
+is. Fust I 'members much 'bout is totin' de key basket 'round 'hind Ole
+Miss when she give out de vittals. I never done a Gawd's speck of work
+but dat. I jes' follered 'long atter Ole Miss wid 'er key basket.
+
+"Did dey pay us any money? Lawsy, Lady! What for? Us didn't need no
+money. Ole Marster and Ole Miss all time give us plenty good sompin'
+teat, and clo'es, and dey let us sleep in a good cabin, but us did have
+money now and den. A heap of times us had nickles and dimes. Dey had
+lots of comp'ny at Ole Marster's, and us allus act mighty spry waitin'
+on 'em, so dey would 'member us when dey lef'. Effen it wuz money dey
+gimme, I jes' couldn't wait to run to de sto' and spend it for candy."
+
+"What else did you buy with the money?", she was asked.
+
+"Nuffin' else," was the quick reply. "All a piece of money meant to me
+dem days, wuz candy, and den mo' candy. I never did git much candy as I
+wanted when I wuz chillun."
+
+Here her story took a rambling turn.
+
+"You see I didn't have to save up for nuffin'. Ole Marster and Ole Miss,
+dey took keer of us. Dey sho' wuz good white folkses, but den dey had to
+be good white folkses, kaze Ole Marster, he wuz Jedge Lumpkin, and de
+Jedge wuz bound to make evvybody do right, and he gwine do right his own
+self 'fore he try to make udder folkses behave deyselvs. Ain't nobody,
+nowhar, as good to dey Negroes as my white folkses wuz."
+
+"Who taught you to say 'Negroes' so distinctly?" she was asked.
+
+"Ole Marster," she promptly answered, "He 'splained dat us wuz not to be
+'shamed of our race. He said us warn't no 'niggers'; he said us wuz
+'Negroes', and he 'spected his Negroes to be de best Negroes in de whole
+land.
+
+"Old Marster had a big fine gyarden. His Negroes wukked it good, and us
+wuz sho' proud of it. Us lived close in town, and all de Negroes on de
+place wuz yard and house servants. Us didn't have no gyardens 'round our
+cabins, kaze all of us et at de big house kitchen. Ole Miss had flowers
+evvywhar 'round de big house, and she wuz all time givin' us some to
+plant 'round de cabins.
+
+"All de cookin' wuz done at de big house kitchen, and hit wuz a sho'
+'nough big kitchen. Us had two boss cooks, and lots of helpers, and us
+sho' had plenny of good sompin' teat. Dat's de Gawd's trufe, and I means
+it. Heap of folkses been tryin' to git me to say us didn't have 'nough
+teat and dat us never had nuffin' fittin' teat. But ole as I is, I cyan'
+start tellin' no lies now. I gotter die fo' long, and I sho' wants to be
+clean in de mouf and no stains or lies on my lips when I dies. Our
+sompin' teat wuz a heap better'n what us got now. Us had plenny of
+evvything right dar in de yard. Chickens, ducks, geese, guineas,
+tukkeys, and de smoke'ouse full of good meat. Den de mens, dey wuz all
+time goin' huntin', and fetchin' in wild tukkeys, an poddiges, and heaps
+and lots of 'possums and rabbits. Us had many fishes as us wanted. De
+big fine shads, and perch, and trouts; dem wuz de fishes de Jedge liked
+mos'. Catfishes won't counted fittin' to set on de Jedges table, but us
+Negroes wuz 'lowed to eat all of 'em us wanted. Catfishes mus' be mighty
+skace now kaze I don't know when ever I is seed a good ole river catfish
+a-flappin' his tail. Dey flaps dey tails atter you done kilt 'em, and
+cleaned 'em, and drap 'em in de hot grease to fry. Sometimes dey nigh
+knock de lid offen de fryin' pan.
+
+"Ole Marster buyed Bill Finch down de country somewhar', and dey called
+him 'William' at de big house. He wuz de tailor, and he made clo'es for
+de young marsters. William wuz right smart, and one of his jobs wuz to
+lock up all de vittals atter us done et much as us wanted. All of us had
+plenny, but dey won't nuffin' wasted 'round Ole Marster's place.
+
+"Ole Miss wuz young and pretty dem days, and Ole Marster won't no old
+man den, but us had to call 'em 'Ole Miss,' and 'Ole Marster,' kaze dey
+chilluns wuz called 'Young Marster' and 'Young Mistess' f'um de very day
+dey wuz born."
+
+When asked to describe the work assigned to little Negroes, she quickly
+answered: "Chilluns didn't do nuffin'. Grownup Negroes done all de wuk.
+All chilluns done wuz to frolic and play. I wuz jes' 'lowed ter tote de
+key basket kaze I wuz all time hangin' 'round de big house, and wanted
+so bad to stay close to my ma in de kitchen and to be nigh Ole Miss.
+
+"What sort of clo'es did I wear in dem days? Why Lady, I had good
+clo'es. Atter my little mistesses wore dey clo'es a little, Ole Miss
+give 'em to me. Ma allus made me wear clean, fresh clo'es, and go
+dressed up good all de time so I'd be fittin' to carry de key basket for
+Ole Miss. Some of de udder slave chilluns had homemade shoes, but I
+allus had good sto'-bought shoes what my young mistess done outgrowed,
+or what some of de comp'ny gimme. Comp'ny what had chilluns 'bout my
+size, gimme heaps of clo'es and shoes, and some times dey didn't look
+like dey'd been wore none hardly.
+
+"Ole Marster sho' had lots of Negroes 'round his place. Deir wuz Aunt
+Charlotte, and Aunt Julie, and de two cooks, and Adeline, and Mary, and
+Edie, and Jimmy. De mens wuz Charlie, and Floyd, and William, and
+Daniel. I disremembers de res' of 'em.
+
+"Ole Marster never whipped none of his Negroes, not dat I ever heared
+of. He tole 'em what he wanted done, and give 'em plenny of time to do
+it. Dey wuz allus skeert effen dey didn't be smart and do right, dey
+might git sold to some marster dat would beat 'em, and be mean to 'em.
+Us knowed dey won't many marsters as good to dey slaves as Ole Marster
+wuz to us. Us would of most kilt ourself wukkin', fo' us would of give
+him a reason to wanna git rid of us. No Ma'am, Ole Marster ain't never
+sold no slave, not whilst I kin 'member. Us wuz allus skeert dat effen a
+Negro git lazy and triflin' he might git sold.
+
+"No Negro never runned away f'um our place. Us didn't have nuffin' to
+run f'um, and nowhar to run to. Us heared of patterollers but us won't
+'fraid none kaze us knowed won't no patteroller gwine tech none of Jedge
+Lumpkin's Negroes.
+
+"Us had our own Negro church. I b'lieves dey calls it Foundry Street
+whar de ole church wuz. Us had meetin' evvy Sunday. Sometimes white
+preachers, and sometimes Negro preachers done de preachin'. Us didn't
+have no orgin or pianny in church den. De preacher hysted de hymns. No
+Ma'am, I cyan' 'member no songs us sung den dat wuz no diffunt f'um de
+songs now-a-days, 'ceppen' dey got orgin music wid de singin' now. Us
+had c'lections evvy Sunday in church den, same as now. Ole Marster give
+us a little change for c'lection on Sunday mawnin' kaze us didn't have
+no money of our own, and he knowed how big it made us feel ter drap
+money in de c'lection plate. Us Meferdis had our baptizin's right dar in
+de church, same as us does now. And 'vival meetin's. Dey jes' broke out
+any time. Out on de plantations dey jes' had 'vival meetin's in
+layin'-by times, but here in town us had 'em all durin' de year. Ole
+Marster used ter say: 'Mo' 'vivals, better Negroes.'
+
+"Evvybody oughter be good and jine de church, but dey sho' oughtn't to
+jine effen dey still gwine to act like Satan.
+
+"Us chillun would git up long 'fore day Chris'mas mawnin'. Us used ter
+hang our stockin's over de fire place, but when Chris'mas mawnin' come
+dey wuz so full, hit would of busted 'em to hang 'em up on a nail, so
+dey wuz allus layin' on Ma's cheer when us waked up. Us chillun won't
+'lowed to go 'round de big house early on Chris'mas mawnin' kaze us
+mought 'sturb our white folkses' rest, and den dey done already seed dat
+us got plenny Santa Claus in our own cabins. Us didn't know nuffin'
+'bout New Years Day when I wuz chillun.
+
+"When any of his Negroes died Ole Marster wuz mighty extra good. He give
+plenny of time for a fun'ral sermon in de afternoon. Most of da fun'rals
+wuz in de yard under de trees by de cabins. Atter de sermon, us would go
+'crost de hill to de Negro buyin' ground, not far f'um whar our white
+folkses wuz buried.
+
+"Us never bothered none 'bout Booker Washin'ton, or Mister Lincum, or
+none of dem folkses 'way off dar kaze us had our raisin' f'um de
+Lumpkins and dey's de bes' folkses dey is anywhar'. Won't no Mister
+Lincum or no Booker Washin'ton gwine to help us like Ole Marster and us
+knowed dat good and plenny.
+
+"I cyan' 'member much 'bout playin' no special games 'ceppin' 'Ole
+Hundud.' Us would choose one, and dat one would hide his face agin' a
+tree whilst he counted to a hundud. Den he would hunt for all de others.
+Dey done been hidin' whilst he wuz countin'. Us larned to count
+a-playin' 'Ole Hundud'.
+
+"No Ma'am, us never went to no school 'til atter de War. Den I went some
+at night. I wukked in de day time atter freedom come. My eyes bothered
+me so I didn't go to school much.
+
+"Yes Ma'am, dey took mighty good care of us effen us got sick. Ole
+Marster would call in Doctor Moore or Doctor Carleton and have us looked
+atter. De 'omans had extra good care when dey chilluns comed. 'Til
+freedom come, I wuz too little to know much 'bout dat myself, but Ma
+allus said dat Negro 'omans and babies wuz looked atter better 'fore
+freedom come dan dey ever wuz anymo'.
+
+"Atter de War wuz over, a big passel of Yankee mens come to our big
+house and stayed. Dey et and slept dar, and dey b'haved powerful nice
+and perlite to all our white folkses, and dey ain't bother Jedge
+Lumpkin's servants none. But den evvybody allus b'haved 'round Jedge
+Lumpkin's place. Ain't nobody gwine to be brash 'nough to do no
+devilment 'round a Jedges place.
+
+"Hit was long atter de War 'fo' I married. I cyan' 'member nuffin' 'bout
+my weddin' dress. 'Pears like to me I been married mos' all of my life.
+Us jes' went to de preacher man's house and got married. Us had eight
+chillun, but dey is all dead now 'ceppin' two; one son wukkin' way off
+f'um here, and my daughter in Athens.
+
+"I knows I wuz fixed a heap better fo' de War, than I is now, but I sho'
+don't want no slav'ry to come back. It would be fine effen evvy Negro
+had a marster like Jedge Lumpkin, but dey won't all dat sort."
+
+Anna leaned heavily on her cane as she answered the knock on the front
+door when we visited her home. "Come in," she invited, and led the way
+through her scrupulously tidy house to the back porch.
+
+"De sun feels good," she said, "and it sorter helps my rheumatiz. My
+rheumatiz been awful bad lately. I loves to set here whar I kin see dat
+my ole hen and little chickens don't git in no mischief." A small bucket
+containing chicken food was conveniently at hand, so she could scatter
+it on the ground to call her chickens away from depredations on the
+flowers. A little mouse made frequent excursions into the bucket and
+helped himself to the cracked grains in the chicken food. "Don't mind
+him," she admonished, "he jes' plays 'round my cheer all day, and don't
+bother nuffin'."
+
+"You didn't tell anything about your brothers and sisters when you
+talked to me before," her visitor remarked.
+
+"Well, I jes' couldn't 'member all at onct, but atter I got back home
+and rested up, I sot here and talked ter myself 'bout old times. My
+brudder Charles wuz de coachman what drove Ole Marster's carriage, and
+anudder brudder wuz Willie, and one wuz Floyd. My sisters wuz Jane and
+Harriet. 'Pears like to me dey wuz more of 'em, but some how I jes'
+cyan' 'member no more 'bout 'em. My husband wuz Grant Parkes and he tuk
+care of de gyardens and yards for de Lumpkins.
+
+"I had one chile named Caline, for Ole Miss. She died a baby. My
+daughter Fannie done died long time ago, and my daughter Liza, she wuks
+for a granddaughter of Ole Miss. I means, Liza wuks for Mister Eddie
+Lumpkin's daughter. I done plum clear forgot who Mister Eddie's daughter
+married.
+
+"I jes' cyan' recollec' whar my boy, Floyd, stays. You oughter know,
+Lady, hits de town whar de President lives. Yes Ma'am, Washin'ton, dats
+de place whar my Floyd is. I got one more son, but I done plum forgot
+his name, and whar he wuz las' time I heared f'um him. I don't know if
+he's livin' or dead. It sho' is bad to git so old you cyan' tell de
+names of yo' chilluns straight off widout havin' to stop and study, and
+den you cyan' allus 'member.
+
+"I done been studyin' 'bout da war times, and I 'members dat Ole Marster
+wuz mighty troubled 'bout his Negroes when he heared a big crowd of
+Yankee sojers wuz comin' to Athens. Folkses done been sayin' de Yankees
+would pick out de bes' Negroes and take 'em 'way wid 'em, and dere wuz a
+heap of talk 'bout de scandlous way dem Yankee sojers been treatin'
+Negro 'omans and gals. 'Fore dey got here, Ole Marster sent mos' of his
+bes' Negroes to Augusta to git 'em out of danger f'um de Fed'rals.
+Howsome-ever de Negroes dat he kept wid' 'im won't bothered none, kaze
+dem Fed'rals 'spected de Jedge and didn't do no harm 'round his place.
+
+"In Augusta, I stayed on Greene Street wid a white lady named Mrs.
+Broome. No Ma'am, I nebber done no wuk. I jes' played and frolicked, and
+had a good time wid Mrs. Broome's babies. She sho' wuz good to me. Ma,
+she wukked for a Negro 'oman named Mrs. Kemp, and lived in de house wid
+her.
+
+"Ole Marster sont for us atter de war wuz over, and us wuz mighty proud
+to git back home. Times had done changed when us got back. Mos' of Ole
+Marster's money wuz gone, and he couldn't take keer of so many Negroes,
+so Ma moved over near de gun fact'ry and started takin' in washin'.
+
+"De wust bother Negroes had dem days wuz findin' a place to live. Houses
+had to be built for 'em, and dey won't no money to build 'em wid.
+
+"One night, jes' atter I got in bed, some mens come walkin' right in
+Ma's house widout knockin'. I jerked de kivver up over my head quick,
+and tried to hide. One of de mens axed Ma who she wuz. Ma knowed his
+voice, so she said: 'You knows me Mister Blank,' (she called him by his
+sho' 'nuff name) 'I'm Liza Lumpkin, and you knows I used to b'long to
+Jedge Lumpkin.' De udders jes' laughed at him and said: 'Boy, she knows
+you, so you better not say nuffin' else.' Den anudder man axed Ma how
+she wuz makin' a livin'. Ma knowed his voice too, and she called him by
+name and tole him us wuz takin' in washin' and livin' all right. Dey
+laughed at him too, and den anudder one axed her sompin' and she called
+his name when she answered him too. Den de leader say, 'Boys, us better
+git out of here. These here hoods and robes ain't doin' a bit of good
+here. She knows ev'ry one of us and can tell our names.' Den dey went
+out laughin' fit to kill, and dat wuz de onliest time de Ku Kluxers ever
+wuz at our house, leastways us s'posed dey wuz Ku Kluxers.
+
+"I don't 'member much 'bout no wuk atter freedom 'ceppin' de wash tub.
+Maw larned me how to wash and iron. She said: 'Some day I'll be gone
+f'um dis world, and you won't know nuffin' 'bout takin' keer of yo'self,
+lessen you larn right now.' I wuz mighty proud when I could do up a
+weeks washin' and take it back to my white folkses and git sho' 'nuff
+money for my wuk. I felt like I wuz a grown 'oman den. It wuz in dis
+same yard dat Ma larned me to wash. At fust Ma rented dis place. There
+wuz another house here den. Us saved our washin' money and bought de
+place, and dis is de last of three houses on dis spot. Evvy cent spent
+on dis place wuz made by takin' in washin' and de most of it wuz made
+washin' for Mister Eddie Lumpkin's family.
+
+"Heaps of udder Negroes wuz smart like Ma, and dey got along all right.
+Dese days de young folkses don't try so hard. Things comes lots easier
+for 'em, and dey got lots better chances dan us had, but dey don't pay
+no 'tention to nuffin' but spendin' all dey got, evvy day. Boys is
+wuss'en gals. Long time ago I done give all I got to my daughter. She
+takes keer of me. Effen de roof leaks, she has it looked atter. She wuks
+and meks our livin'. I didn't want nobody to show up here atter I die
+and take nuffin' away f'um her.
+
+"I ain' never had no hard times. I allus been treated good and had a
+good livin'. Course de rheumatiz done got me right bad, but I is still
+able to git about and tend to de house while my gal is off at wuk. I
+wanted to wash today, but I couldn't find no soap. My gal done hid de
+soap, kaze she say I'se too old to do my own washin' and she wanter wash
+my clo'es herse'f."
+
+In parting, the old woman said rather apologetically, "I couldn't tell
+you 'bout no sho' 'nuff hard times. Atter de War I wukked hard, but I
+ain't never had no hard times".
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5
+Ex-Slave #83]
+
+"A TALK WITH
+G.W. PATTILLO--EX-SLAVE"
+[HW: age 78]
+
+Submitted by
+Minnie B. Ross
+
+Typed by:
+J.C. Russell
+1-22-37
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+[TR: In Informants List, G.W. Pattillio]
+
+
+In the shelter provided by the Department of Public Welfare, lives an
+old Negro, G.W. Pattillo, who was born in Spaulding County, Griffin,
+Ga., in the year 1852. His parents, Harriett and Jake Pattillo, had
+twelve children, of whom he was the second youngest. Their master was
+Mr. T.J. Ingram. However, they kept the name of their old master, Mr.
+Pattillo.
+
+Master Ingram, as he was affectionately called by his slaves, was
+considered a "middle class man," who owned 100 acres of land, with one
+family of slaves, and was more of a truck farmer than a plantation
+owner. He raised enough cotton to supply the needs of his family and his
+slaves and enough cattle to furnish food, but his main crops were corn,
+wheat, potatoes and truck.
+
+With a few slaves and a small farm, Master Ingram was very lenient and
+kind to his slaves and usually worked with them in the fields. "We had
+no special time to begin or end the work for the day. If he got tired he
+would say, 'Alright, boys, let's stop and rest,' and sometimes we didn't
+start working until late in the day."
+
+Pattillo's mother was cook and general house servant, so well thought of
+by the Ingram family that she managed the house as she saw fit and
+planned the meals likewise. Young Pattillo was considered a pet by
+everyone and hung around the mistress, since she did not have any
+children of her own. His job was to hand her the scissors and thread her
+needles. "I was her special pet," said Pattillo, "and my youngest
+brother was the master's special pet." Mr. and Mrs. Ingram never
+punished the children, nor allowed anyone but their parents to do so.
+If the boy became unruly, Mrs. Ingram would call his mother and say,
+"Harriett, I think G.W. needs to be taken down a button hole lower."
+
+The master's house, called the "Big House," was a two-story frame
+structure consisting of 10 rooms. Although not a mansion, it was fairly
+comfortable. The home provided for Pattillo's family was a three-room
+frame house furnished comfortably with good home-made furniture.
+
+Pattillo declared that he had never seen anyone on the Ingram Plantation
+punished by the owner, who never allowed the "paterrollers" to punish
+them either.
+
+Master Ingram placed signs at different points on his plantation which
+read thus: "Paterrollers, Fishing and Hunting Prohibited on this
+Plantation." It soon became known by all that the Ingram slaves were not
+given passes by their owner to go any place, consequently they were
+known as "Old Ingram's Free Niggers."
+
+Master Ingram could not write, but would tell his slaves to inform
+anyone who wished to know, that they belonged to J.D. Ingram. "Once,"
+said Pattillo, "my brother Willis, who was known for his gambling and
+drinking, left our plantation and no one knew where he had gone. As we
+sat around a big open fire cracking walnuts, Willis came up, jumped
+off his horse and fell to the ground. Directly behind him rode a
+'paterroller.' The master jumped up and commanded him to turn around and
+leave his premises. The 'Paterroller' ignored his warning and advanced
+still further. The master then took his rifle and shot him. He fell to
+the ground dead and Master Ingram said to his wife, 'Well, Lucy, I guess
+the next time I speak to that scoundrel he will take heed.' The master
+then saddled his horse and rode into town. Very soon a wagon came back
+and moved the body."
+
+The cotton raised was woven into cloth from which their clothing was
+made. "We had plenty of good clothing and food," Pattillo continued.
+"The smokehouse was never locked and we had free access to the whole
+house. We never knew the meaning of a key."
+
+Master Ingram was very strict about religion and attending Church. It
+was customary for everyone to attend the 9 o'clock prayer services at
+his home every night. The Bible was read by the mistress, after which
+the master would conduct prayer. Children as well as grownups were
+expected to attend. On Sundays, everybody attended church. Separate
+Churches were provided for the Negroes, with White and Colored preachers
+conducting the services. White Deacons were also the Deacons of the
+Colored Churches and a colored man was never appointed deacon of a
+Church. Only white ministers were priviliged to give the sacrament and
+do the baptizing. Their sermons were of a strictly religious nature.
+When a preacher was unable to read, someone was appointed to read the
+text. The preacher would then build his sermon from it. Of course,
+during the conference period, colored as well as white ministers were
+privileged to make the appointments. The Negroes never took up
+collections but placed their money in an envelope and passed it in. It
+was their own money, earned with the master's consent, by selling
+apples, eggs, chickens, etc.
+
+Concerning marriages, Pattillo believes in marriages as they were in the
+olden days. "Ef two people felt they wuz made for each other, they wuz
+united within themselves when they done git the master's 'greement, then
+live together as man and wife, an' that was all. Now, you got to buy a
+license and pay the preacher."
+
+Loss of life among slaves was a calamity and if a doctor earned a
+reputation for losing his patients, he might as well seek a new
+community. Often his downfall would begin by some such comment as, "Dr.
+Brown lost old man Ingram's nigger John. He's no good and I don't intend
+to use him." The value of slaves varied, from $500 to $10,000, depending
+on his or her special qualifications. Tradesmen such as blacksmiths,
+shoe makers, carpenters, etc., were seldom sold under $10,000. Rather
+than sell a tradesman slave, owners kept them in order to make money by
+hiring them out to other owners for a set sum per season. However,
+before the deal was closed the lessee would have to sign a contract
+which assured the slave's owner that the slave would receive the best of
+treatment while in possession.
+
+Pattillo remembers hearing his parents say the North and South had
+disagreed and Abraham Lincoln was going to free the slaves. Although he
+never saw a battle fought, there were days when he sat and watched the
+long line of soldiers passing, miles and miles of them. Master Ingram
+did not enlist but remained at home to take care of his family and his
+possessions.
+
+After the war ended, Master Ingram called his slaves together and told
+them of their freedom, saying, "Mr. Lincoln whipped the South and we are
+going back to the Union. You are as free as I am and if you wish to
+remain here you may. If not, you may go any place you wish. I am not
+rich but we can work together here for both our families, sharing
+everything we raise equally." Pattillo's family remained there until
+1870. Some owners kept their slaves in ignorance of their freedom.
+Others were kind enough to offer them homes and help them to get a
+start.
+
+After emancipation, politics began to play a part in the lives of
+ex-slaves, and many were approached by candidates who wanted to buy
+their votes. Pattillo tells of an old ex-slave owner named Greeley
+living in Upson County who bought an ex-slaves vote by giving him as
+payment a ham, a sack of flour and a place to stay on his plantation.
+After election, he ordered the ex-slave to get the wagon, load it with
+his possessions and move away from his plantation. Astonished, the old
+Negro asked why. "Because," replied old Greeley, "If you allow anyone to
+buy your vote and rob you of your rights as a free citizen, someone
+could hire you to set my house on fire."
+
+Pattillo remebers slavery gratefully and says he almost wishes these
+days were back again.
+
+
+
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+
+ALEC POPE, Age 84
+1345 Rockspring Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sadie B. Hornsby
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Ga.
+
+Edited by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Augusta, Ga.
+
+April 28, 1938
+[Date Stamp: MAY 6 1938]
+
+
+Alec lives with his daughter, Ann Whitworth. When asked if he liked to
+talk about his childhood days, he answered: "Yes Ma'am, but is you one
+of dem pension ladies?" The negative reply was an evident disappointment
+to Alec, but it did not hinder his narrative:
+
+"Well, I wuz born on de line of Clarke and Oglethorpe Counties, way down
+de country. Celia and Willis Pope wuz my ma and pa. Lawdy! Mist'ess, I
+don't know whar dey come f'um; 'peers lak pa's fust Marster wuz named
+Pope. Dat's de onlies' last name I ever ricollec' us havin'.
+
+"Dere wuz a passel of us chillun. My sisters wuz Sallie, Phebie Ann,
+Nelia, and Millie. My brudders wuz Anderson, Osborn, George, Robert,
+Squire, Jack, and Willis. Willis wuz named for pa and us nicknamed 'im
+Tuck.
+
+"De slave quarters wuz little log houses scattered here and dar. Some of
+'em had two rooms on de fust flo' and a loft up 'bove whar de boys most
+genially slep' and de gals slep' downstairs. I don't 'member nothin'
+t'all 'bout what us done 'cept scrap lak chilluns will do.
+
+"Oh! I ain't forgot 'bout dem beds. Dey used cords for springs, and de
+cords run f'um head to foot; den dey wove 'em 'cross de bed 'til dey
+looked lak checks. Wheat straw wuz sewed up in ticks for mattresses.
+When you rolled 'round on one of dem straw mattresses, de straw crackled
+and sounded lak rain. No Ma'am, I don't know nothin' t'all 'bout my
+gran'pa and gran'ma.
+
+"I wuz de reg'lar water boy, and I plowed some too. 'Course dere wuz so
+many on dat plantation it tuk more'n one boy to tote de water. Money?
+dis Nigger couldn't git no money in dem days.
+
+"Us sho' had plenty somepin' t'eat, sich as meat, and cornbread, and
+good old wheat bread what wuz made out of seconds. Dere wuz lots of
+peas, corn, cabbage, Irish 'tatoes, sweet 'tatoes, and chickens,
+sometimes. Yes Ma'am, sometimes. I laks coffee, but us Niggers didn't
+have much coffee. Dat wuz for de white folkses at de big house. Cookin'
+wuz done in de fireplace in great big spiders. Some of de biggest of de
+spiders wuz called ovens. Dey put coals of fire underneath and more
+coals on top of de lid. Ma baked bread and 'taters in de ashes. In
+winter she put de dough in a collard leaf so it wouldn't burn. In summer
+green corn shucks wuz wrapped 'round de dough 'stid of collard leaves.
+All de fish and 'possums and rabbits us had wuz cotch right dar on Old
+Marster's place, 'cause if one of our Niggers got cotch offen our place
+hit wuz jes' too bad. I sho' does love 'possum, and us had lots of 'em,
+'cause my brudder used to ketch 'em by de wholesale wid a dog he had,
+and dat same dog wuz a powerful good rabbit hound too.
+
+"Us had pretty good clothes most all de year 'round. In summer, shirts,
+and pants wuz made out of coarse cotton cloth. Sometimes de pants wuz
+dyed gray. Winter time us had better clothes made out of yarn and us
+allus had good Sunday clothes. 'Course I wuz jes' a plow boy den and
+now I done forgot lots 'bout how things looked. Our shoes wuz jes'
+common brogans, no diff'unt on Sunday, 'ceppin' de Nigger boys what wuz
+shinin' up to de gals cleaned up deir shoes dat day.
+
+"Our Marster wuz Mr. Mordecai Ed'ards. Well, he wuz pretty good--not too
+good. He tried to make you do right, but if you didn't he would give you
+a good brushin'. Miss Martha, Old Marster's old 'oman, warn't good as
+Old Marster, but she done all right. Dey had a heap of chillun: Miss
+Susan, Miss Mary, Miss Callie, Miss Alice, and it 'peers to me lak dere
+wuz two mo' gals, but I can't 'call 'em now. Den dere wuz some boys:
+Marse Billy, Marse Jim, Marse John, Marse Frank, and Marse Howard. Marse
+Frank Ed'ards lives on Milledge Avenue now.
+
+"Old Marster and Old Mist'ess lived in a great big fine house what
+looked to me lak one of dese big hotels does now. Marse Jack Ed'ards wuz
+de fust overseer I can ricollec'. He wuz kin to Old Marster. Marster had
+two or three mo' overseers at diff'unt times, but I don't ricollec' dey
+names. Dere wuz two car'iage drivers. Henry driv de gals 'round and
+Albert wuz Old Mist'ess' driver. Old Marster had his own hoss and buggy,
+and most of de time he driv for hisself, but he allus tuk a little
+Nigger boy namad Jordan 'long to help him drive and to hold de hoss.
+
+"Lawdy! Mist'ess, I couldn't rightly say how many acres wuz in dat
+plantation. I knowed he had two plantations wid fine houses on 'em. He
+jes' had droves and droves of Niggers and when dey got scattered out
+over de fields, dey looked lak blackbirds dere wuz so many. You see I
+wuz jes' a plow boy and didn't know nothin' 'bout figgers and countin'.
+
+"De overseer got us up 'bout four o'clock in de mornin' to feed de
+stock. Den us et. Us allus stopped off by dark. Mist'ess dere's a old
+sayin' dat you had to brush a Nigger in dem days to make 'em do right.
+Dey brushed us if us lagged in de field or cut up de cotton. Dey could
+allus find some fault wid us. Marster brushed us some time, but de
+overseer most gen'ally done it. I 'members dey used to make de 'omans
+pull up deir skirts and brushed 'em wid a horse whup or a hickory; dey
+done de mens de same way 'cept dey had to take off deir shirts and pull
+deir pants down. Niggers sho' would holler when dey got brushed.
+
+"Jails! Yes Ma'am, dey had 'em way down in Lexin'ton. You know some
+Niggers gwine steal anyhow, and dey put 'em in dere for dat mostly. I
+didn't never see nobody sold or in chains. De only chains I ever seed
+wuz on hosses and plows.
+
+"Mist'ess, Niggers didn't have no time to larn to read in no Bible or
+nothin' lak dat in slav'ry time. Us went to church wid de white folkses
+if us wanted to, but us warn't 'bleeged to go. De white folkses went to
+church at Cherokee Corner. Dere warn't no special church for Niggers
+'til long atter de War when dey built one out nigh de big road.
+
+"Some of de Niggers run away to de Nawth--some dey got back, some dey
+didn't. Dem patterollers had lots of fun if dey cotch a Nigger, so dey
+could brush 'im to hear 'im holler. De onlies' trouble I ever heard
+'bout twixt de whites and blacks wuz when a Nigger sassed a white man
+and de white man shot 'im. H'it served dat Nigger right, 'cause he
+oughta knowed better dan to sass a white man. De trouble ended wid dat
+shot.
+
+"De most Niggers ever done for a good time wuz to have little parties
+wid heaps of fidlin' and dancin'. On Sunday nights dey would have prayer
+meetin's. Dem patterollers would come and break our prayer meetin's up
+and brush us if dey cotch us.
+
+"Chris'mas wuz somepin' else. Us had awful good times den, 'cause de
+white folkses at de big house give us plenty of goodies for Chris'mas
+week and us had fidlin' and dancin'. Us would ring up de gals and run
+all 'round 'em playin' dem ring-'round-de-rosie games. Us had more good
+times at corn shuckin's, and Old Marster allus had a little toddy to
+give us den to make us wuk faster.
+
+"Oh! No Ma'am, I don't 'member nothin' 'bout what us played when I wuz a
+little chap, and if I ever knowed anything 'bout Rawhead and Bloody
+Bones and sich lak I done plumb forgot it now. But I do know Old Marster
+and Old Mist'ess sho' wuz powerful good when dey Niggers got sick. Dey
+put a messenger boy on a mule and sont 'im for Dr. Hudson quick, 'cause
+to lose a Nigger wuz losin' a good piece of property. Some Niggers wore
+some sort of beads 'round deir necks to keep sickness away and dat's all
+I calls to mind 'bout dat charm business.
+
+"I wuz jes' a plow boy so I didn't take in 'bout de surrender. De only
+thing I ricollects 'bout it wuz when Old Marster told my pa and ma us
+wuz free and didn't belong to him no more. He said he couldn't brush de
+grown folks no more, but if dey wanted to stay wid 'im dey could, and
+dat he would brush dey chilluns if dey didn't do right. Ma told 'im he
+warn't gwine brush none of her chilluns no more.
+
+"Us lived wid Old Marster 'bout a year, den pa moved up on de big road.
+Buy land? No Ma'am, Niggers didn't have no money to buy no land wid 'til
+dey made it. I didn't take in 'bout Mr. Lincoln, only dat thoo' him us
+wuz sot free. I heard 'em say Mr. Davis wuz de President of de South,
+and 'bout Booker Washin'ton some of de Niggers tuk him in, but I didn't
+bodder 'bout him.
+
+"Lawdy! Mist'ess, I didn't marry de fust time 'til long atter de War,
+and now I done been married three times. I had a awful big weddin' de
+fust time. De white man what lived on de big road not far f'um us said
+he never seed sich a weddin' in his life. Us drunk and et, and danced
+and cut de buck most all night long. Most all my chilluns is dead. I
+b'lieve my fust wife had 10 or 11 chilluns. I know I had a passel fust
+and last; and jes' to tell you de trufe, dere jes' ain't no need to stop
+and try to count de grand chilluns. All three of my wives done daid and
+I'm lookin' for anudder one to take keer of me now.
+
+"Why did I jine de church? 'Cause I jes' think evvybody oughta jine if
+dey wanna do right so'se dey can go to Heben. I feels lak a diff'unt man
+since I done jined and I knows de Lord has done forgive me for all my
+sins.
+
+"Mist'ess ain't you thoo' axin' me questions yit? Anyhow I wuz thinkin'
+you wuz one of dem pension ladies." When he was told that the interview
+was completed, Alec said: "I sho' is glad, 'cause I feels lak takin' a
+little nap atter I eat dese pecans what I got in my pocket. Goodbye
+Mist'ess."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5
+Ex-Slave #84]
+
+Whitley, Driskell
+1-20-37
+
+SLAVERY AS WITNESSED BY ANNIE PRICE
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Mrs. Annie Price was born in Spaulding County, Georgia October 12, 1855.
+Although only a mere child when freedom was declared she is able to
+relate quite a few events in her own life as well as some of the
+experiences of other slaves who lived in the same vicinity as she.
+
+Her mother and father Abe and Caroline were owned by a young married
+couple named Kennon. (When this couple were married Abe and Caroline had
+been given as wedding presents by the bride's and the groom's parents).
+Besides her parents there four brothers and five sisters all of whom
+were younger than she with one exception. The first thing that she
+remembers of her mother is that of seeing her working in the "Marster's"
+kitchen.
+
+Mr. Kennon was described as being a rather young man who was just
+getting a start in life. His family consisted of his wife and about
+five children. He was not a mean individual. The plantation on which he
+lived was a small one, having been given to him by his father (whose
+plantation adjoined) in order to give him a start. Mr. Kennon owned one
+other slave besides Mrs. Price and her family while his father owned a
+large number some of whom he used to lend to the younger Mr. Kennon.
+Cotton and all kinds of vegetables were raised. There was also some live
+stock.
+
+As Mr. Kennon owned only a few slaves it was necessary for these few
+persons to do all of the work. Says Mrs. Price: "My mother had to do
+everything from cultivating cotton to cooking." The same was true of her
+father and the other servant. Before the break of day each morning they
+were all called to prepare for the day's work. Mrs. Price then told how
+she has seen the men of her plantation and those of the adjoining one
+going to the fields at this unearthly hour eating their breakfast while
+sitting astride the back of a mule. After her mother had finished
+cooking and cleaning the house she was sent to the field to help the
+men. When it was too dark to see all field hands were permitted to
+return to their cabins. This same routine was followed each day except
+Sundays when they were permitted to do much as they pleased. When the
+weather was too bad for field work they shelled corn and did other types
+of work not requiring too much exposure. Holidays were unheard of on the
+Kennon plantation. As a little slave girl the only work that Mrs. Price
+ever had to do was to pick up chips and bark for her mother to cook
+with. The rest of the time was spent in playing with the "Marster's"
+little girls.
+
+"The servants on our plantation always had a plenty of clothes,"
+continued Mrs. Price, "while those on the plantation next to ours (Mrs.
+Kennon's father) never had enough, especially in the winter." This
+clothing was given when it was needed and not at any specified time as
+was the case on some of the other plantations in that community. All of
+these articles were made on the plantation and the materials that were
+mostly used were homespun (which was also woven on the premises) woolen
+goods, cotton goods and calico. It has been mentioned before that the
+retinue of servants was small in number and so for this reason all of
+them had a reasonable amount of those clothes that had been discarded by
+the master and the mistress. After the leather had been cured it was
+taken to the Tannery where crude shoes called "Twenty Grands" were made.
+These shoes often caused the wearer no little amount of discomfort until
+they were thoroughly broken in.
+
+For bedding, homespun sheets were used. The quilts and blankets were
+made from pieced cotton material along with garments that were unfit for
+further wear. Whenever it was necessary to dye any of these articles a
+type of dye made by boiling the bark from trees was used.
+
+In the same manner that clothing was plentiful so was there always
+enough food. When Mrs. Price was asked if the slaves owned by Mr. Kennon
+were permitted to cultivate a garden of their own she stated that they
+did'nt need to do this because of the fact that Mr. Kennon raised
+everything that was necessary and they often had more than enough. Their
+week-day diet usually consisted of fried meat, grits, syrup and corn
+bread for breakfast; vegetables, pot liquor or milk, and corn bread for
+dinner; and for supper there was milk and bread or fried meat and bread.
+On Sunday they were given a kind of flour commonly known as the
+"seconds" from which biscuits were made. "Sometimes", continued Mrs.
+Price, "my mother brought us the left-overs from the master's table and
+this was usually a meal by itself". In addition to this Mr. Kennon
+allowed hunting as well as fishing and so on many days there were fish
+and roast 'possum. Food on the elder Mr. Kennon plantation was just as
+scarce as it was plentiful on his son's. When asked how she knew about
+this Mrs. Price told how she had seen her father take meat from his
+master's smoke house and hide it so that he could give it to those
+slaves who invaribly slipped over at night in search of food. The elder
+Mr. Kennon had enough food but he was too mean to see his slaves enjoy
+themselves by having full stomachs.
+
+All cooking on Mrs. Price's plantation was done by her mother.
+
+All of the houses on the Kennon plantation were made of logs including
+that of Mr. Kennon himself. There were only two visible differences in
+the dwelling places of the slaves and that of Mr. Kennon and there were
+(1) several rooms instead of the one room allowed the slaves and (2)
+weatherboard was used on the inside to keep the weather out while the
+slaves used mud to serve for this purpose. In these crude one-roomed
+houses (called stalls) there was a bed made of some rough wood. Rope
+tied from side to side served as the springs for the mattress which was
+a bag filled with straw and leaves. There were also one or two boxes
+which were used as chairs. The chimney was made of rocks and mud. All
+cooking was done here at the fireplace. Mrs. Price says; "Even Old
+Marster did'nt have a stove to cook on so you know we did'nt." The only
+available light was that furnished by the fire. Only one family was
+allowed to a cabin so as to prevent overcrowding. In addition to a good
+shingle roof each one of these dwellings had a board floor. All floors
+were of dirt on the plantation belonging to the elder Mr. Kennon.
+
+A doctor was employed to attend to those persons who were sick. However
+he never got chance to practice on the Kennon premises as there was
+never any serious illness. Minor cases of sickness were usually treated
+by giving the patient a dose of castor oil or several doses of some form
+of home made medicine which the slaves made themselves from roots that
+they gathered in the woods. In order to help keep his slaves in good
+health Mr. Kennon required them to keep the cabins they occupied and
+their surroundings clean at all times.
+
+Mrs. Price said that the slaves had very few amusements and as far as
+she can remember she never saw her parents indulge in any form of play
+at all. She remembers, however, that on the adjoining plantation the
+slaves often had frolics where they sang and danced far into the night.
+These frolics were not held very often but were usually few and far
+between.
+
+As there was no church on the plantation Mr. Kennon gave them a pass on
+Sundays so that they could attend one of the churches that the town
+afforded. The sermons they heard were preached by a white preacher and
+on rare occasions by a colored preacher. Whenever the colored pastor
+preached there were several white persons present to see that [HW: no]
+doctrine save that laid down by them should be preached. All of the
+marrying on both plantations [TR: duplicate section removed here] was
+done by a preacher.
+
+It has been said that a little learning is a dangerous thing and this
+certainly was true as far as the slaves were concerned, according to
+Mrs. Price. She says: "If any of us were ever caught with a book we
+would get a good whipping." Because of their great fear of such a
+whipping none of them ever attempted to learn to read or to write.
+
+As a general rule Mrs. Price and the other nembers of her family were
+always treated kindly by the Kennon family. None of them were ever
+whipped or mistreated in any way. Mrs. Price says that she has seen
+slaves on the adjoining plantation whipped until the blood ran. She
+describes the sight in the following manner. "The one to be whipped was
+tied across a log or to a tree and then his shirt was dropped around his
+waist and he was lashed with a cow hide whip until his back was raw."
+Whippings like these were given when a slave was unruly or disobedient
+or when he ran away. Before a runaway slave could be whipped he had to
+be caught and the chief way of doing this was to put the blood hounds
+(known to the slaves as "nigger hounds") on the fugitive's trail. Mrs.
+Price once saw a man being taken to his master after he had been caught
+by the dogs. She says that his skin was cut and torn in any number of
+places and he looked like one big mass of blood. Her father once ran
+away to escape a whipping.(this was during the Civil War), and he was
+able to elude the dogs as well as his human pursuers. When asked about
+the final outcome of this escape Mrs. Price replied that her father
+remained in hiding until the war was over with and then he was able to
+show himself without any fear.
+
+She has also seen slaves being whipped by a group of white men when her
+parents said were the "Paddie-Rollers". It was their duty to whip those
+slaves who were caught away from their respective plantations without a
+"pass", she was told.
+
+According to Mrs. Price the jails were built for the "white folks". When
+a slave did something wrong his master punished him.
+
+She does'nt remember anything about the beginning of the Civil War
+neither did she understand its significance until Mr. Kennon died as a
+result of the wounds that he received while in action. This impressed
+itself on her mind indelibly because Mr. Kennon was the first dead
+person she had ever seen. The Yankee troops did'nt come near their
+plantation and so they had a plenty of food to satisfy their needs all
+during the war. Even after the war was over there was still a plenty of
+all the necessities of life.
+
+When Mrs. Kennon informed them that they were free to go or to stay as
+they pleased, her father, who had just come out of hiding, told Mrs.
+Kennon that he did not want to remain on the plantation any longer than
+it was necessary to get his family together. He said that he wanted to
+get out to himself so that he could see how it felt to be free. Mrs.
+Price says that as young as she was she felt very happy because the
+yoke of bondage was gone and she knew that she could have a privelege
+like everybody else. And so she and her family moved away and her
+father began farming for himself. His was prosperous until his death.
+After she left the plantation of her birth she lived with her father
+until she became a grown woman and then she married a Mr. Price who was
+also a farmer.
+
+Mrs. Price believes that she has lived to reach such a ripe old age
+because she has always served God and because she always tried to obey
+those older than she.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-Slave #87]
+
+A FEW FACTS OF SLAVERY BY
+CHARLIE PYE--Ex-Slave
+[Date Stamp: MAY -- --]
+
+
+The writer was much surprised to learn that the person whom she was
+about to interview was nine years old when the Civil War ended. His
+youthful appearance at first made her realize that probably he was not
+an ex-slave after all. Very soon she learned differently. Another
+surprise followed the first in that his memory of events during that
+period was very hazy. The few facts learned are related as follows:
+
+Mr. Charlie Pye was born in Columbus, Ga., 1856 and was the ninth child
+of his parents, Tom Pye and Emmaline Highland. Tom Pye, the father,
+belonged to Volantine Pye, owner of a plantation in Columbus, Ga. known
+as the Lynch and Pye Plantation.
+
+Mr. Pye's mistress was Miss Mary Ealey, who later married a Mr. Watts.
+Miss Ealey owned a large number of slaves, although she did not own a
+very large plantation. Quite a few of her slaves were hired out to other
+owners. The workers on the plantation were divided into two or more
+groups, each group having a different job to do. For instance, there
+were the plow hands, hoe hands, log cutters, etc. Mr. Pye's mother was a
+plow hand and besides this, she often had to cut logs. Mr. Pye was too
+young to work and spent most of his time playing around the yards.
+
+Houses on the Ealey plantation were built of pine poles after which the
+cracks were filled with red mud. Most of these houses consisted of one
+room; however, a few were built with two rooms to accommodate the larger
+families. The beds, called "bunks" by Mr. Pye were nailed to the sides
+of the room. Roped bottoms covered with a mattress of burlap and hay
+served to complete this structure called a bed. Benches and a home made
+table completed the furnishings. There were very few if any real chairs
+found in the slave homes. The houses and furniture were built by skilled
+Negro carpenters who were hired by the mistress from other slave owners.
+A kind slave owner would allow a skilled person to hire his own time and
+keep most of the pay which he earned.
+
+Plenty of food was raised on the Ealey plantation, but the slave
+families were restricted to the same diet of corn meal, syrup, and fat
+bacon. Children were fed "pot likker", milk and bread from poplar
+troughs, from which they ate with wooden spoons. Grown-ups ate with
+wooden forks. Slaves were not allowed to raise gardens of their own,
+although Mr. Pye's uncle was given the privilege of owning a rice patch,
+which he worked at night.
+
+In every slave home was found a wooden loom which was operated by hands
+and feet, and from which the cloth for their clothing was made. When the
+work in the fields was finished women were required to come home and
+spin one cut (thread) at night. Those who were not successful in
+completing this work were punished the next morning. Men wore cotton
+shirts and pants which were dyed different colors with red oak bark,
+alum and copper. Copper produced an "Indigo blue color." "I have often
+watched dye in the process of being made," remarked Mr. Pye. Mr. Pye's
+father was a shoemaker and made all shoes needed on the plantation. The
+hair was removed from the hides by a process known as tanning. Red oak
+bark was often used for it produced an acid which proved very effective
+in tanning hides. Slaves were given shoes every three months.
+
+To see that everyone continued working an overseer rode over the
+plantation keeping check on the workers. If any person was caught
+resting he was given a sound whipping. Mr. Pye related the following
+incident which happened on the Ealey plantation. "A young colored girl
+stopped to rest for a few minutes and my uncle stopped also and spoke to
+her. During this conversation the overseer came up and began whipping
+the girl with a "sapling tree." My uncle became very angry and picked up
+an axe and hit the overseer in the head, killing him. The mistress was
+very fond of my uncle and kept him hid until she could "run him."
+Running a slave was the method they used in sending a slave to another
+state in order that he could escape punishment and be sold again. You
+were only given this privilege if it so happened that you were cared for
+by your mistress and master."
+
+Overseers on the Ealey plantation were very cruel and whipped slaves
+unmercifully. Another incident related by Mr. Pye was as follows:
+
+"My mother resented being whipped and would run away to the woods and
+often remained as long as twelve months at a time. When the strain of
+staying away from her family became too great, she would return home. No
+sooner would she arrive than the old overseer would tie her to a peach
+tree and whip her again. The whipping was done by a "Nigger Driver," who
+followed the overseer around with a bull whip; especially for this
+purpose. The largest man on the plantation was chosen to be the "Nigger
+Driver."
+
+"Every slave had to attend church, although there were no separate
+churches provided for them. However, they were allowed to occupy the
+benches which were placed in the rear of the church. To attend church on
+another plantation, slaves had to get a pass or suffer punishment from
+the "Pader Rollers." (Patrollers)
+
+"We didn't marry on our plantation", remarked Mr. Pye. After getting the
+consent of both masters the couple jumped the broom, and that ended the
+so called ceremony. Following the marriage there was no frolic or
+celebration.
+
+"Sometimes quilting parties were held in the various cabins on the
+plantation. Everyone would assist in making the winter bed covering for
+one family one night and the next night for some other family, and so on
+until everyone had sufficient bed covering.
+
+"A doctor was only called when a person had almost reached the last
+stages of illness. Illness was often an excuse to remain away from the
+field. "Blue mass pills", castor oil, etc. were kept for minor aches and
+pains. When a slave died he was buried as quickly as a box could be
+nailed together.
+
+"I often heard of people refugeeing during the Civil War period,"
+remarked Mr. Pye. "In fact, our mistress refugeed to Alabama trying to
+avoid meeting the Yanks, but they came in another direction. On one
+occasion the Yanks came to our plantation, took all the best mules and
+horses, after which they came to my mother's cabin and made her cook
+eggs for them. They kept so much noise singing, "I wish I was in Dixie"
+that I could not sleep. After freedom we were kept in ignorance for
+quite a while but when we learned the truth my mother was glad to move
+away with us."
+
+"Immediately after the war ex-slave families worked for one-third and
+one-fourth of the crops raised on different plantations. Years later
+families were given one-half of the crops raised."
+
+Mr. Pye ended the interview by telling the writer that he married at
+the age of 35 years and was the father of two children, one of whom is
+living. He is a Baptist, belonging to Mount Zion Church, and has
+attended church regularly and believes that by leading a clean, useful
+life he has lengthened his days on this earth. During his lifetime Mr.
+Pye followed railroad work. Recently, however, he has had to give this
+up because of his health.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave #91]
+
+SUBJECT: CHARLOTTE RAINES--OGLETHORPE CO.
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1
+RESEARCH WORKER: JOHN N. BOOTH
+DATE: JANUARY 18, 1937
+[Date Stamp: JAN 26 1937]
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Aunt Charlotte Raines, well up in the seventies at the time of her death
+some years ago, was an excellent example of the type of negro developed
+by the economic system of the old South.
+
+When I could first remember, Charlotte was supreme ruler of the kitchen
+of my home. Thin to emaciation and stooped almost to the point of having
+a hump on her back she was yet wiry and active. Her gnarled old hands
+could turn out prodigous amounts of work when she chose to extend
+herself.
+
+Her voice was low and musical and she seldom raised it above the
+ordinary tone of conversation; yet when she spoke other colored people
+hastened to obey her and even the whites took careful note of what she
+said. Her head was always bound in a snow-white turban. She wore calico
+or gingham print dresses and white aprons and these garments always
+appeared to be freshly laundered.
+
+Charlotte seldom spoke unless spoken to and she would never tell very
+much about her early life. She had been trained as personal maid to one
+of her ex-master's daughters. This family, (that of Swepson H. Cox) was
+one of the most cultured and refined that Lexington, in Oglethorpe
+County, could boast.
+
+Aunt Charlotte never spoke of her life under the old regime but she had
+supreme contempt for "no count niggers that didn't hav' no white Folks".
+She was thrifty and frugal. Having a large family, most of her small
+earnings was spent on them. However, she early taught her children to
+scratch for themselves. Two of her daughters died after they had each
+brought several children into the world. Charlotte thought they were
+being neglected by their fathers and proceeded to take them "to raise
+myse'f". These grand children were the apple of her eye and she did much
+more for them than she had done for her own children.
+
+The old woman had many queer ways. Typical of her eccentricities was her
+iron clad refusal to touch one bite of food in our house. If she wished
+a dish she was preparing tasted to see that it contained the proper
+amount of each ingredient she would call some member of the family,
+usually my grandmother, and ask that he or she sample the food.
+Paradoxically, she had no compunctions about the amount of food she
+carried home for herself and her family.
+
+Strange as it may seem, Charlotte was an incorrigible rogue. My mother
+and my grandmother both say that they have seen her pull up her skirts
+and drop things into a flour sack which she always wore tied round her
+waist just for this purpose. I myself have seen this sack so full that
+it would bump against her knee. She did not confine her thefts to food
+only. She would also take personal belongings. Another servant in the
+household once found one of Aunt Charlotte's granddaughters using a
+compact that she had stolen from her young mistress. The servant took
+the trinket away from the girl and returned it to the owner but nothing
+was ever said to Aunt Charlotte although every one knew she had stolen
+it.
+
+One year when the cherry crop was exceptionally heavy, grandmother had
+Charlotte make up a huge batch of cherry preserves in an iron pot. While
+Charlotte was out of the kitchen for a moment she went in to have a look
+at the preserves and found that about half of them had been taken out. A
+careful but hurried search located the missing portion hidden in another
+container behind the stove. Grandmother never said a word but simply put
+the amount that had been taken out back in the pot.
+
+Charlotte never permitted anyone to take liberties with her except Uncle
+Daniel, the "man of all work" and another ex-slave. Daniel would josh
+her about some "beau" or about her over-fondness for her grandchildren.
+She would take just so much of this and then with a quiet "g'long with
+you", she would send him on about his business. Once when he pressed her
+a bit too far she hurled a butcher knife at him.
+
+Charlotte was not a superstitious soul. She did not even believe that
+the near-by screech of an owl was an omen of death. However, she did
+have some fearful and wonderful folk remedies.
+
+When you got a bee sting Charlotte made Daniel spit tobacco juice on it.
+She always gave a piece of fat meat to babies because this would make
+them healthy all their lives. Her favorite remedy was to put a pan of
+cold water under the bed to stop "night sweats."
+
+In her last years failing eye-sight and general ill health forced her to
+give up her active life. Almost a complete shut-in, she had a window cut
+on the north side of her room so she could "set and see whut went on up
+at Mis' Molly's" (her name for my grandmother).
+
+She was the perfect hostess and whenever any member of our family went
+to see how she did during those latter days she always served locust
+beer and cookies. Once when I took her a bunch of violets she gave me an
+old coin that she had carried on her person for years. Mother didn't
+want me to take it because Charlotte's husband had given it to her and
+she set great store by it. However, the old woman insisted that I be
+allowed to keep the token arguing it would not be of use to her much
+longer anyway.
+
+She died about a month later and in accordance with her instructions her
+funeral was conducted like "white folk's buryin'", that is without the
+night being filled with wailing and minus the usual harangue at the
+church. Even in death Charlotte still thought silence golden.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave #90]
+
+SUBJECT: FANNY RANDOLPH--EX-SLAVE
+         Jefferson, Georgia
+RESEARCH WORKER: MRS. MATTIE B. ROBERTS
+EDITOR: JOHN N. BOOTH
+SUPERVISOR: MISS VELMA BELL
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1
+DATE: MARCH 29, 1937
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Perhaps the oldest ex-slave living today is found in Jefferson, Georgia.
+Fanny Randolph is a little old wrinkled-faced woman, but at the time of
+our visit she was very neat in a calico dress and a white apron with a
+bandanna handkerchief around her head.
+
+We saw her at the home of a niece with whom she lives, all of her own
+family being dead. Her room was tidy, and she had a bright log fire
+burning in the wide old fire place. She readily consented to talk about
+slavery times.
+
+"Honey, I doan know how ole I is, but I'se been here er long time and
+I'se been told by folks whut knows, dat I'se, maybe, mo' dan er hunderd
+years ole. I 'members back er long time befo' de war. My mammy and daddy
+wuz bofe slaves. My daddy's name wuz Daniel White an' my mammy's name
+befo' she married wuz Sarah Moon, she b'longed ter Marse Bob Moon who
+lived in Jackson County over near whar Winder is now. He wuz er big
+landowner an' had lots uv slaves."
+
+"When I wuz 'bout nine years ole, Marse Bob tuk me up ter de "big house"
+ter wait on ole Mistis. I didn't hav' much ter do, jes' had ter he'p 'er
+dress an' tie 'er shoes an' run eroun' doin' errands fur 'er. Yer know,
+in dem times, de white ladies had niggers ter wait on 'em an' de big
+niggers done all de hard wuk 'bout de house an' yard."
+
+"Atter some years my mammy an' daddy bofe died, so I jes' stayed at de
+"big house" an' wukked on fer Marse Bob an' ole Mistis."
+
+"Atter I growed up, us niggers on Marse Bob's plantation had big times
+at our corn shuckin's an' dances. Us 'ud all git tergether at one uv de
+cabins an us 'ud have er big log fire an' er room ter dance in. Den when
+us had all shucked corn er good while ever nigger would git his gal an'
+dey would be some niggers over in de corner ter play fer de dance, one
+wid er fiddle an' one ter beat straws, an' one wid er banjo, an' one ter
+beat bones, an' when de music 'ud start up (dey gener'ly played 'Billy
+in de Low Grounds' or 'Turkey in de Straw') us 'ud git on de flo'. Den
+de nigger whut called de set would say: 'All join hands an' circle to de
+lef, back to de right, swing corners, swing partners, all run away!' An'
+de way dem niggers feets would fly!"
+
+"Bye an' bye de war come on, an' all de men folks had ter go an' fight
+de Yankees, so us wimmen folks an' chillun had er hard time den caze us
+all had ter look atter de stock an' wuk in de fiel's. Den us 'ud hear
+all 'bout how de Yankees wuz goin' aroun' an' skeerin' de wimmen folks
+mos' ter death goin' in dey houses an' making de folks cook 'em stuff
+ter eat, den tearin' up an' messin' up dey houses an' den marchin' on
+off."
+
+"Den when ole Mistis 'ud hear de Yankees wuz comin' she'd call us
+niggers en us 'ud take all de china, silver, and de joolry whut b'longed
+ter ole Miss an' her family an' dig deep holes out b'hind de smoke-house
+or under de big house, en bury h'it all 'tell de Yankees 'ud git by."
+
+"Dem wuz dark days, but atter er long time de war wuz over an' dey tole
+us us wuz free, I didn't want ter leave my white folks so I stayed on
+fer sometime, but atter while de nigger come erlong whut I married. His
+name wuz Tom Randolph an' befo' de war he b'longed ter Marse Joshua
+Randolph, who lived at Jefferson, so den us moved ter Jefferson. Us had
+thirteen chillun, but dey's all daid now an' my ole man is daid too, so
+I'se here all by my se'f an' ef h'it warn't fer my two nieces here, who
+lets me liv' wid 'em I doan know whut I'd do."
+
+"I'se allus tried ter do de right thin' an' de good Lawd is takin' keer
+uv me fer his prophet say in de Good Book, 'I'se been young and now am
+ole, yet I'se nebber seed de righteous fersaken ner his seed beggin'
+bread!' So I ain't worryin' 'bout sumpin' ter eat, but I doan want ter
+stay here much longer onless h'its de good Lawds will."
+
+Asked if she was superstitious, she said: "Well when I wuz young, I
+reckin' I wuz, but now my pore ole mine is jes so tired and h'it doan
+wuk lak h'it uster, so I never does think much 'bout superstition, but I
+doan lak ter heer er "squinch owl" holler in de night, fer h'it sho is a
+sign some uv yore folks is goin' ter die, en doan brin' er ax froo de
+house onless yer take h'it back de same way yer brung h'it in, fer dat
+'ill kill de bad luck."
+
+When asked if she believed in ghosts or could "see sights" she said:
+"Well, Miss, yer know if yer is borned wid er veil over yer face yer can
+see sights but I has never seed any ghosts er sight's, I warn't born dat
+way, but my niece, here has seed ghostes, en she can tell yer 'bout
+dat."
+
+When we were ready to leave we said, "Well, Aunt Fanny, we hope you live
+for many more years." She replied: "I'se willin' ter go on livin' ez
+long ez de Marster wants me ter, still I'se ready when de summons comes.
+De good Lawd has allus giv' me grace ter liv' by, an' I know He'll giv'
+me dyin' grace when my time comes."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-slave #94]
+
+Alberta Minor
+Re-search Worker
+
+SHADE RICHARDS, Ex-slave
+East Solomon Street
+Griffin, Georgia
+
+September 14, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Shade Richards was born January 13, 1846 on the Jimpson Neals plantation
+below Zebulon in Pike County. His father, Alfred Richards had been
+brought from Africa and was owned by Mr. Williams on an adjoining
+plantation. His mother, Easter Richards was born in Houston County but
+sold to Mr. Neal. Shade being born on the plantation was Mr. Neal's
+property. He was the youngest of 11 children. His real name was
+"Shadrack" and the brother just older than he was named "Meshack".
+Sometimes the mothers named the babies but most of the time the masters
+did. Mr. Neal did Shade's "namin'".
+
+Shade's father came two or three times a month to see his family on Mr.
+Neal's plantation always getting a "pass" from his master for "niggers"
+didn't dare go off their own plantation without a "pass". Before the war
+Shade's grandfather came from Africa to buy his son and take him home,
+but was taken sick and both father and son died. Shade's earliest
+recollections of his mother are that she worked in the fields until "she
+was thru' bornin' chillun" then she was put in charge of the milk and
+butter. There were 75 or 80 cows to be milked twice a day and she had to
+have 5 or 6 other women helpers.
+
+Mr. Neal had several plantations in different localities and his family
+did not live on this one in Pike County but he made regular visits to
+each one. It had no name, was just called "Neal's Place." It consisted
+of thirteen hundred acres. There were always two or three hundred slaves
+on the place, besides the ones he just bought and sold for "tradin'". He
+didn't like "little nigger men" and when he happened to find one among
+his slaves he would turn the dogs on him and let them run him down. The
+boys were not allowed to work in the fields until they were 12 years
+old, but they had to wait on the hands, such as carrying water, running
+back to the shop with tools and for tools, driving wagons of corn, wheat
+etc. to the mill to be ground and any errands they were considered big
+enough to do. Shade worked in the fields when he became 12 years old.
+
+This plantation was large and raised everything--corn, wheat, cotton,
+"taters", tobacco, fruit, vegetables, rice, sugar cane, horses, mules,
+goats, sheep, and hogs. They kept all that was needed to feed the slaves
+then sent the surplus to Savannah by the "Curz". The stage took
+passengers, but the "Curz" was 40 or 50 wagons that took the farm
+surplus to Savannah, and "fetched back things for de house."
+
+Mr. Neal kept 35 or 40 hounds that had to be cooked for. He was "rich
+with plenty of money" always good to his slaves and didn't whip them
+much, but his son, "Mr. Jimmy, sure was a bad one". Sometimes he'd use
+the cow hide until it made blisters, then hit them with the flat of the
+hand saw until they broke and next dip the victim into a tub of salty
+water. It often killed the "nigger" but "Mr. Jimmy" didn't care. He
+whipped Shade's uncle to death.
+
+When the "hog killin' time come" it took 150 nigger men a week to do it.
+The sides, shoulders, head and jowls were kept to feed the slaves on and
+the rest was shipped to Savannah. Mr. Neal was good to his slaves and
+gave them every Saturday to "play" and go to the "wrestling school". At
+Xmas they had such a good time, would go from house to house, the boys
+would fiddle and they'd have a drink of liquor at each house. The liquor
+was plentiful for they bought it in barrels. The plantations took turn
+about having "Frolics" when they "fiddled and danced" all night.
+
+If it wasn't on your own plantation you sure had to have a "pass". When
+a slave wanted to "jine the church" the preacher asked his master if he
+was a "good nigger", if the master "spoke up for you", you were "taken
+in," but if he didn't you weren't. The churches had a pool for the
+Baptist Preachers to baptize in and the Methodist Preacher sprinkled.
+
+Mr. Neal "traded" with Dr. by the year and whenever the slaves were hurt
+or sick he had to come "tend" to them. He gave the families their food
+by the month, but if it gave out all they had to do was to ask for more
+and he always gave it to them. They had just as good meals during the
+week as on Sunday, any kind of meat out of the smoke house, chickens,
+squabs, fresh beef, shoats, sheep, biscuits or cornbread, rice,
+potatoes, beans, syrup and any garden vegetables. Sometimes they went
+fishing to add to their menu.
+
+The single male slaves lived together in the "boy house" and had just as
+much as others. There were a lot of women who did nothing but sew,
+making work clothes for the hands. Their Sunday clothes were bought with
+the money they made off the little "patches" the master let them work
+for themselves.
+
+Mr. Jimmy took Shade to the war with him. Shade had to wait on him as a
+body servant then tend to the two horses. Bullets went through Shade's
+coat and hat many times but "de Lord was takin' care" of him and he
+didn't get hurt. They were in the battle of Appomatox and "at the
+surrenderin'," April 8, 1865, but the "evidence warn't sworn out until
+May 29, so that's when the niggers celebrate emancipation."
+
+Shade's brother helped lay the R.R. from Atlanta to Macon so the
+Confederate soldiers and ammunition could move faster.
+
+In those days a negro wasn't grown until he was 21 regardless of how
+large he was. Shade was "near 'bout" grown when the war was over but
+worked for Mr. Neal four years. His father and mother rented a patch,
+mule and plow from Mr. Neal and the family was together. At first they
+gave the niggers only a tenth of what they raised but they couldn't get
+along on it and after a "lot of mouthin' about it" they gave them a
+third. That wasn't enough to live on either so more "mouthin" about it
+until they gave them a half, "and thats what they still gits today."
+
+When the slaves went 'courtin' and the man and woman decided to get
+married, they went to the man's master for permission then to the
+woman's master. There was no ceremony if both masters said "alright"
+they were considered married and it was called "jumpin' the broomstick."
+
+Signs were "more true" in the olden days than now. God lead his people
+by dreams then. One night Shade dreamed of a certain road he used to
+walk over often and at the fork he found a lead pencil, then a little
+farther on he dreamed of a purse with $2.43 in it. Next day he went
+farther and just like the dream he found the pocketbook with $2.43 in
+it.
+
+Shade now works at the Kincaid Mill No. 2, he makes sacks and takes up
+waste. He thinks he's lived so long because he never eats hot food or
+takes any medicine. "People takes too much medicine now days" he says
+and when he feels bad he just smokes his corn cob pipe or takes a chew
+of tobacco.
+
+
+
+
+DORA ROBERTS
+
+
+Dora Roberts was born in 1849 and was a slave of Joseph Maxwell of
+Liberty County. The latter owned a large number of slaves and
+plantations in both Liberty and Early Counties. During the war "Salem"
+the plantation in Liberty County was sold and the owner moved to Early
+County where he owned two plantations known as "Nisdell" and "Rosedhu".
+
+Today, at 88 years of age, Aunt Dora is a fine specimen of the fast
+disappearing type of ante-bellum Negro. Her shrewd dark eyes glowing, a
+brown paper sack perched saucily on her white cottony hair, and puffing
+contentedly on an old corn cob pipe, the old woman began her recital
+what happened during plantation days.
+
+"Dey is powerful much to tell ob de days ob slabry, chile, an' it come
+to me in pieces. Dis story ain't in no rotation 'cause my mind it don't
+do dat kinda function, but I tell it as it come ta me. De colored folks
+had dey fun as well as dey trials and tribulations, 'cause dat Sat'day
+nigh dance at de plantation wuz jist de finest ting we wanted in dem
+days. All de slabes fum de udder plantation dey cum ta our barn an' jine
+in an' if dey had a gal on dis plantation dey lob, den dat wuz da time
+dey would court. Dey would swing to de band dat made de music. My
+brother wuz de captain ob de quill band an' dey sure could make you
+shout an' dance til you quz [TR: wuz?] nigh 'bout exhausted. Atta
+findin' ya gal ta dat dance den you gits passes to come courtin' on
+Sundays. Den de most ob dom dey wants git married an' dey must den git
+de consent fum de massa ceremonies wuz read ober dem and de man git
+passes fo' de week-end ta syat [TR: stay?] wid his wife. But de slabes
+dey got togedder an' have dem jump over de broom stick an' have a big
+celebration an' dance an' make merry 'til morning and it's time fo' work
+agin.
+
+"We worked de fields an' kep' up de plantation 'til freedom. Ebry
+Wednesday de massa come visit us an look ober de plantation ta see dat
+all is well. He talk ta de obersheer an' find out how good de work is.
+We lub de massa an' work ha'd fo' him.
+
+"Ah kin 'member dat Wednesday night plain as it wuz yesterday. It seems
+lak de air 'round de quarters an' de big house filled wid excitement;
+eben de wind seem lak it wuz waitin' fo' som'ting. De dogs an' de
+pickaninnies dey sleep lazy like 'gainst de big gate waitin' fo' de
+crack ob dat whip which wuz de signal dat Julius wuz bringin' de master
+down de long dribe under de oaks. Chile, us all wuz happy knowin' date
+de fun would start.
+
+"All of a sudden you hear dem chilluns whoop, an' de dogs bark, den de
+car'age roll up wid a flourish, an' de coachman dressed in de fines' git
+out an' place de cookie try on de groun'. Den dey all gadder in de
+circle an' fo' dey git dey supply, dey got ta do de pigeon wing.
+
+"Chile, you ain't neber seen sich flingin' ob de arms an' legs in yo'
+time. Dem pickaninnies dey had de natural born art ob twistin' dey body
+any way dey wish. Dat dere ting dey calls truckin' now an' use to be
+chimmy, ain't had no time wid de dancin' dem chilluns do. Dey claps dey
+hands and keep de time, while dat old brudder ob mine he blows de
+quills. Massa he would allus bring de big tray ob 'lasses cookies fo'
+all de chilluns. Fast as de tray would empty, Massa send ta de barrel
+fo' more. De niggers do no work dat day, but dey jist celebrate.
+
+"Atta de war broke out we wuz all ca'yhed up to de plantation in Early
+County to stay 'til atta de war. De day de mancipation wuz read dey wuz
+sadness an' gladness. De ole Massa he call us all togedder an' wid tears
+in his eyes he say--'You is all free now an' you can go jist whar you
+please. I hab no more jurisdiction ober you. All who stay will be well
+cared for.' But de most ob us wanted to come back to de place whar we
+libed befo'--Liberty County.
+
+"So he outfitted de wagons wid horses an' mules an' gib us what dey wuz
+ob privisions on de plantation an' sent us on our way ta de ole
+plantation in Liberty County. Dare wuz six horses ta de wagons. 'Long de
+way de wagons broke down 'cause de mules ain't had nothin' ta eat an'
+most ob dem died. We git in sich a bad fix some ob de people died. When
+it seem lak we wuz all gwine die, a planter come along de road an' he
+stopped ta find out what wuz de matter. Wan he heard our story an' who
+our master wuz he git a message to him 'bout us.
+
+"It seem lak de good Lord musta answered de prayers ob his chillun fo'
+'long way down de road we seed our Massa comin' an' he brung men an'
+horses to git us safely ta de ole home. When he got us dare, I neber see
+him no more 'cause he went back up in Early County an' atta I work dere
+at de plantation a long time den I come ta de city whyah my sister be
+wid one ob my master's oldest daughters--a Mrs. Dunwodies[TR: ?? first
+letter of name not readable], who she wuz nursin' fo'.
+
+"An' dat's 'bout all dey is ta tell. When I sits an' rocks here on de
+porch it all comes back ta me. Seems sometimes lak I wuz still dere on
+de plantation. An' it seem lak it's mos' time fo' de massa ta be comin'
+ta see how tings are goin'."
+
+
+
+
+Written by Ruth Chitty
+Research Worker
+District #2
+Rewritten by Velma Bell
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW: AUNT FEREBE ROGERS
+Baldwin County
+Milledgeville, Ga.
+
+
+More than a century lies in the span of memory of "Aunt Ferebe" Rogers.
+The interviewers found her huddled by the fireside, all alone while her
+grandaughter worked on a WPA Project to make the living for them both.
+In spite of her years and her frail physique, her memory was usually
+clear, only occasionally becoming too misty for scenes to stand out
+plainly. Her face lighted with a reminiscent smile when she was asked to
+"tell us something about old times."
+
+"I 'members a whole heap 'bout slav'ey times. Law, honey, when freedom
+come I had five chillen. Five chillen and ten cents!" and her crackled
+laughter was spirited.
+
+"Dey says I'm a hundred and eight or nine years old, but I don't think
+I'm quite as old as dat. I knows I'se over a hundred, dough.
+
+"I was bred and born on a plantation on Brier Creek in Baldwin County.
+My ole marster was Mr. Sam Hart. He owned my mother. She had thirteen
+chillen. I was de oldest, so I tuck devil's fare.
+
+"My daddy was a ole-time free nigger. He was a good shoe-maker, and
+could make as fine shoes and boots as ever you see. But he never would
+work till he was plumb out o' money--den he had to work. But he quit
+jes' soon as he made a little money. Mr. Chat Morris (he had a regular
+shoe shop)--he offered him studdy work makin' boots and shoes for him.
+Was go'n' pay him $300. a year. But he wouldn't take it. Was too lazy.
+De ole-time free niggers had to tell how dey make dey livin', and if dey
+couldn't give satisfaction 'bout it, dey was put on de block and sold to
+de highest bidder. Most of 'em sold for 3 years for $50. My daddy
+brought $100. when he was sold for three or four years.
+
+"I was on de block twice myself. When de old head died dey was so many
+slaves for de chillen to draw for, we was put on de block. Mr. John
+Baggett bought me den; said I was a good breedin' 'oman. Den later, one
+de young Hart marsters bought me back.
+
+"All de slaves had diff'unt work to do. My auntie was one de weavers.
+Old Miss had two looms goin' all de time. She had a old loom and a new
+loom. My husband made de new loom for Old Miss. He was a carpenter and
+he worked on outside jobs after he'd finished tasks for his marster. He
+use to make all de boxes dey buried de white folks and de slaves in, on
+de Hart and Golden Plantations. Dey was pretty as you see, too.
+
+"I was a fiel' han' myself. I come up twix' de plow handles. I warn't de
+fastes' one wid a hoe, but I didn't turn my back on nobody plowin'. No,
+_mam_.
+
+"My marster had over a thousand acres o' land. He was good to us. We had
+plenty to eat, like meat and bread and vegetables. We raised eve'ything
+on de plantation--wheat, corn, potatoes, peas, hogs, cows, sheep,
+chickens--jes' eve'ything.
+
+"All de clo'es was made on de plantation, too. Dey spun de thread from
+cotton and wool, and dyed it and wove it. We had cutters and dem dat
+done de sewin'. I still got de fus' dress my husband give me. Lemme show
+it to you."
+
+Gathering her shawl about her shoulders, and reaching for her stick, she
+hobbled across the room to an old hand-made chest.
+
+"My husband made dis chis' for me." Raising the top, she began to search
+eagerly through the treasured bits of clothing for the "robe-tail
+muslin" that had been the gift of a long-dead husband. One by one the
+garments came out--her daughter's dress, two little bonnets all faded
+and worn ("my babies' bonnets"), her husband's coat.
+
+"And dat's my husband's mother's bonnet. It use to be as pretty a black
+as you ever see. It's faded brown now. It was dyed wid walnut."
+
+The chest yielded up old cotton cards, and horns that had been used to
+call the slaves. Finally the "robe-tail muslin" came to light. The soft
+material, so fragile with age that a touch sufficed to reduce it still
+further to rags, was made with a full skirt and plain waist, and still
+showed traces of a yellow color and a sprigged design.
+
+"My husband was Kinchen Rogers. His marster was Mr. Bill Golden, and he
+live 'bout fo' mile from where I stayed on de Hart plantation."
+
+"Aunt Ferebe, how did you meet your husband?"
+
+"Well, you see, us slaves went to de white folks church a-Sunday.
+Marster, he was a prim'tive Baptis', and he try to keep his slaves from
+goin' to other churches. We had baptisin's fust Sundays. Back in dem
+days dey baptised in de creek, but at de windin' up o' freedom, dey dug
+a pool. I went to church Sundays, and dat's where I met my husband. I
+been ma'ied jes' one time. He de daddy o' all my chillen'. (I had
+fifteen in all.)"
+
+"Who married you, Aunt Ferebe. Did you have a license?"
+
+"Who ever heered a nigger havin' a license?" and she rocked with
+high-pitched laughter.
+
+"Young marster was fixin' to ma'y us, but he got col' feet, and a
+nigger by name o' Enoch Golden ma'ied us. He was what we called a
+'double-headed nigger'--he could read and write, and he knowed so much.
+On his dyin' bed he said he been de death o' many a nigger 'cause he
+taught so many to read and write.
+
+"Me and my husband couldn't live together till after freedom 'cause we
+had diffunt marsters. When freedom come, marster wanted all us niggers
+to sign up to stay till Chris'man. Bless, yo' soul, I didn't sign up. I
+went to my husband! But he signed up to stay wid his marster till
+Chris'man. After dat we worked on shares on de Hart plantation; den we
+farmed fo'-five years wid Mr. Bill Johnson."
+
+"Aunt Ferebe, are these better times, or do you think slavery times were
+happier?"
+
+"Well, now, you ax me for de truth, didn't you?--and I'm goin' to tell
+yo' de truth. I don't tell no lies. Yes, mam, dese has been better times
+to me. I think hit's better to work for yourself and have what you make
+dan to work for somebody else and don't git nuttin' out it. Slav'ey days
+was mighty hard. My marster was good to us (I mean he didn't beat us
+much, and he give us plenty plain food) but some slaves suffered awful.
+My aunt was beat cruel once, and lots de other slaves. When dey got
+ready to beat yo', dey'd strip you' stark mother naked and dey'd say,
+'Come here to me, God damn you! Come to me clean! Walk up to dat tree,
+and damn you, hug dat tree! Den dey tie yo' hands 'round de tree, den
+tie yo' feets; den dey'd lay de rawhide on you and cut yo' buttocks
+open. Sometimes dey'd rub turpentine and salt in de raw places, and den
+beat you some mo'. Oh, hit was awful! And what could you do? Dey had all
+de 'vantage of you.
+
+"I never did git no beatin' like dat, but I got whuppin's--plenty o'
+'em. I had plenty o' devilment in me, but I quit all my devilment when I
+was ma'ied. I use to fight--fight wid anything I could git my han's on.
+
+"You had to have passes to go from one plantation to 'nother. Some de
+niggers would slip off sometime and go widout a pass, or maybe marster
+was busy and dey didn't want to bother him for a pass, so dey go widout
+one. In eve'y dee-strick dey had 'bout twelve men dey call patterollers.
+Dey ride up and down and aroun' looking for niggers widout passes. If
+dey ever caught you off yo' plantation wid no pass, dey beat you all
+over.
+
+"Yes'm, I 'member a song 'bout--
+
+  'Run, nigger, run, de patteroller git you,
+   Slip over de fence slick as a eel,
+   White man ketch you by de heel,
+   Run, nigger run!'"
+
+No amount of coaxing availed to make her sing the whole of the song, or
+to tell any more of the words.
+
+"When slaves run away, dey always put de blood-hounds on de tracks.
+Marster always kep' one hound name' Rock. I can hear 'im now when dey
+was on de track, callin', 'Hurrah, Rock, hurrah, Rock! Ketch 'im!'
+
+"Dey always send Rock to fetch 'im down when dey foun' 'im. Dey had de
+dogs trained to keep dey teef out you till dey tole 'em to bring you
+down. Den de dogs 'ud go at yo' th'oat, and dey'd tear you to pieces,
+too. After a slave was caught, he was brung home and put in chains.
+
+"De marsters let de slaves have little patches o' lan' for deyse'ves. De
+size o' de patch was 'cordin' to de size o' yo' family. We was 'lowed
+'bout fo' acres. We made 'bout five hundred pounds o' lint cotton, and
+sol' it at Warrenton. Den we used de money to buy stuff for Chris'man."
+
+"Did you have big times at Christmas, Aunt Ferebe?"
+
+"Chris'man--huh!--Chris'man warn't no diffunt from other times. We used
+to have quiltin' parties, candy pullin's, dances, corn shuckin's, games
+like thimble and sich like."
+
+Aunt Ferebe refused to sing any of the old songs. "No, mam, I ain't
+go'n' do dat. I th'oo wid all dat now. Yes, mam, I 'members 'em all
+right, but I ain't go'n' sing 'em. No'm, nor say de words neither. All
+dat's pas' now.
+
+"Course dey had doctors in dem days, but we used mostly home-made
+medicines. I don't believe in doctors much now. We used sage tea, ginger
+tea, rosemary tea--all good for colds and other ail-ments, too.
+
+"We had men and women midwives. Dr. Cicero Gibson was wid me when my
+fus' baby come. I was twenty-five years old den. My baby chile
+seventy-five now."
+
+"Auntie, did you learn to read and write?"
+
+"No, _mam_, I'd had my right arm cut off at de elbow if I'd a-done dat.
+If dey foun' a nigger what could read and write, dey'd cut yo' arm off
+at de elbow, or sometimes at de shoulder."
+
+In answer to a query about ghosts, she said--"No, mam, I ain't seed
+nuttin' like dat. Folks come tellin' me dey see sich and sich a thing. I
+say hit's de devil dey see. I ain't seed nuttin' yit. No'm, I don't
+believe in no signs, neither."
+
+"Do you believe a screeeh owl has anything to do with death?"
+
+"Yes, mam, 'fo' one my chillen died, squinch owl come to my house ev'ey
+night and holler. After de chile die he ain't come no mo'. Cows mooin'
+or dogs howlin' after dark means death, too.
+
+"No, man, I don't believe in no cunjurs. One cunjur-man come here once.
+He try his bes' to overcome me, but he couldn't do nuttin' wid me. After
+dat, he tole my husband he couldn't do nuttin' to me, 'cause I didn't
+believe in him, and dem cunjur-folks can't hurt you less'n you believes
+in 'em. He say he could make de sun stan' still, and do wonders, but I
+knowed dat warn't so, 'cause can't nobody stop de sun 'cep' de man what
+made hit, and dat's God. I don't believe in no cunjurs.
+
+"I don't pay much 'tention to times o' de moon to do things, neither. I
+plants my garden when I gits ready. But bunch beans does better if you
+plants 'em on new moon in Ap'il. Plant butterbeans on full moon in
+Ap'il--potatoes fus' o' March.
+
+"When de war broke out de damn Yankees come to our place dey done
+eve'ything dat was bad. Dey burn eve'ything dey couldn't use, and dey
+tuck a heap o' corn. Marster had a thousand bushels de purtiest shucked
+corn, all nice good ears, in de pen at de house. Dey tuck all dat.
+Marster had some corn pens on de river, dough, dey didn't find. I jes'
+can't tell you all dey done.
+
+"How come I live so long, you say?--I don't know--jes' de goodness o' de
+Lawd, I reckon. I worked hard all my life, and always tried to do
+right."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave #92]
+
+HENRY ROGERS of WASHINGTON-WILKES
+by Minnie Branham Stonestreet
+Washington-Wilkes
+Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Henry Rogers of Washington-Wilkes is known by almost every one in the
+town and county. To the men around town he is "Deacon", to his old
+friends back in Hancock County (Georgia) where he was born and reared,
+he is "Brit"; to everybody else he is "Uncle Henry", and he is a friend
+to all. For forty-one years he has lived in Washington-Wilkes where he
+has worked as waiter, as lot man, and as driver for a livery stable when
+he "driv drummers" around the country anywhere they wanted to go and in
+all kinds of weather. He is proud that he made his trips safely and was
+always on time. Then when automobiles put the old time livery stables
+out of business he went to work in a large furniture and undertaking
+establishment where he had charge of the colored department. Finally he
+decided to accept a job as janitor and at one time was janitor for three
+banks in town. He is still working as janitor in two buildings, despite
+his seventy-three years.
+
+Uncle Henry's "book learning" is very limited, but he has a store of
+knowledge gathered here and there that is surprising. He uses very
+little dialect except when he is excited or worried. He speaks of his
+heart as "my time keeper". When he promises anything in the future he
+says, "Please the Lord to spare me", and when anyone gets a bit
+impatient he bids them, "Be paciable, be paciable". Dismal is one of his
+favorite words but it is always "dism". When he says "Now, I'm tellin'
+yer financially" or "dat's financial", he means that he is being very
+frank and what he is saying is absolutely true.
+
+Regarded highly as the local weather prophet, Uncle Henry gets up every
+morning before daybreak and scans the heavens to see what kind of
+weather is on its way. He guards all these "signs" well and under no
+consideration will he tell them. They were given to him by someone who
+has passed on and he keeps them as a sacred trust. If asked, upon making
+a prediction, "How do you know?" Uncle Henry shakes his wise old head
+and with a wave of the hand says, "Dat's all right, you jess see now,
+it's goin' ter be dat way". And it usually is!
+
+Seventy-three years ago "last gone June" Uncle Henry was born in the Mt.
+Zion community in Hancock county (Georgia), seven miles from Sparta. His
+mother was Molly Navery Hunt, his father, Jim Rogers. They belonged to
+Mr. Jenkins Hunt and his wife "Miss Rebecca". Henry was the third of
+eight children. He has to say about his early life:
+
+"Yassum, I wuz born right over there in Hancock county, an' stayed there
+'til the year 1895 when Mrs. Riley come fer me to hep' her in the Hotel
+here in Washington an' I been here ev'ry since. I recollects well living
+on the Hunt plantation. It wuz a big place an' we had fifteen or twenty
+slaves"--(The "we" was proudly possessive)--"we wuz all as happy passel
+o' niggers as could be found anywhere. Aunt Winnie wuz the cook an' the
+kitchen wuz a big old one out in the yard an' had a fireplace that would
+'commodate a whole fence rail, it wuz so big, an' had pot hooks, pots,
+big old iron ones, an' everything er round to cook on. Aunt Winnie had a
+great big wooden tray dat she would fix all us little niggers' meals in
+an' call us up an' han' us a wooden spoon apiece an' make us all set
+down 'round the tray an' eat all us wanted three times ev'ry day. In one
+corner of the kitchen set a loom my Mother use to weave on. She would
+weave way into the night lots of times.
+
+"The fust thing I 'members is follerin' my Mother er 'round. She wuz the
+housegirl an' seamstress an' everywhere she went I wuz at her heels. My
+father wuz the overseer on the Hunt place. We never had no hard work to
+do. My fust work wuz 'tendin' the calves an' shinin' my Master's shoes.
+How I did love to put a Sunday shine on his boots an' shoes! He called
+me his nigger an' wuz goin' ter make a barber out o' me if slavery had
+er helt on. As it wuz, I shaved him long as he lived. We lived in the
+Quarters over on a high hill 'cross the spring-branch from the white
+peoples' house. We had comfortable log cabins an' lived over there an'
+wuz happy. Ole Uncle Alex Hunt wuz the bugler an' ev'ry mornin' at 4:00
+o'clock he blowed the bugle fer us ter git up, 'cept Sunday mornin's, us
+all slept later on Sundays.
+
+"When I wuz a little boy us played marbles, mumble peg, an' all sich
+games. The little white an' black boys played together, an' ev'ry time
+'Ole Miss' whipped her boys she whipped me too, but nobody 'cept my
+Mistess ever teched me to punish me.
+
+"I recollects one Sadday night ole Uncle Aaron Hunt come in an' he must
+er been drinkin' or sumpin' fer he got ter singin' down in the Quarters
+loud as he could 'Go Tell Marse Jesus I Done Done All I Kin Do', an'
+nobody could make him hush singin'. He got into sich er row 'til they
+had ter go git some o' the white folks ter come down an' quiet him down.
+Dat wuz the only 'sturbance 'mongst the niggers I ever 'members.
+
+"I wuz so little when the War come on I don't member but one thing 'bout
+it an' that wuz when it wuz over with an' our white mens come home all
+de neighbors, the Simpsons, the Neals, the Allens all living on
+plantations 'round us had a big dinner over at my white peoples', the
+Hunts, an' it sho wuz a big affair. Ev'rybody from them families wuz
+there an' sich rejoicin' I never saw. I won't forgit that time.
+
+"I allus been to Church. As a little boy my folks took me to ole Mt
+Zion. We went to the white peoples' Church 'til the colored folks had
+one of they own. The white folks had services in Mt Zion in the mornings
+an' the niggers in the evenin's."
+
+When a colored person died back in the days when Uncle Henry was coming
+on, he said they sat up with the dead and had prayers for the living.
+There was a Mr. Beman in the community who made coffins, and on the Hunt
+place old Uncle Aaron Hunt helped him. The dead were buried in home-made
+coffins and the hearse was a one horse wagon.
+
+"When I wuz a growin' up" said Uncle Henry, "I wore a long loose shirt
+in the summer, an' in the winter plenty of good heavy warm clothes. I
+had 'nits an' lice' pants an' hickory stripe waists when I wuz a little
+boy. All these my Mother spun an' wove the cloth fer an' my Mistess
+made. When I wuz older I had copperas pants an' shirts."
+
+Uncle Henry has many signs but is reluctant to tell them. Finally he was
+prevailed upon to give several. What he calls his "hant sign" is: "If
+you runs into hot heat sudden, it is a sho sign hants is somewheres
+'round."
+
+When a rooster comes up to the door and crows, if he is standing with
+his head towards the door, somebody is coming, if he is standing with
+his tail towards the door, it is a sign of death, according to Uncle
+Henry. It is good luck for birds to build their nests near a house, and
+if a male red bird comes around the woodpile chirping, get ready for bad
+weather for it is on its way.
+
+Uncle Henry is a pretty good doctor too, but he doesn't like to tell his
+remedies. He did say that life everlasting tea is about as good thing
+for a cold as can be given and for hurts of any kind there is nothing
+better than soft rosin, fat meat and a little soot mixed up and bound to
+the wound. He is excellent with animals and when a mule, dog, pig or
+anything gets sick his neighbors call him in and he doctors them and
+usually makes them well.
+
+As for conjuring, Uncle Henry has never known much about it, but he said
+when he was a little fellow he heard the old folks talk about a mixture
+of devil's snuff and cotton stalk roots chipped up together and put into
+a little bag and that hidden under the front steps. This was to make all
+who came up the steps friendly and peacable even if they should happen
+to be coming on some other mission.
+
+After the War the Rogers family moved from the Hunts' to the Alfriend
+plantation adjoining. As the Alfriends were a branch of the Hunt family
+they considered they were still owned as in slavery by the same "white
+peoples". They lived there until Uncle Henry moved to Washington-Wilkes
+in 1895.
+
+Christmas was a great holiday on the plantation. There was no work done
+and everybody had a good time with plenty of everything good to eat.
+Easter was another time when work was laid aside. A big Church service
+took place Sunday and on Monday a picnic was attended by all the negroes
+in the community.
+
+There were Fourth of July celebrations, log rollings, corn shuckings,
+house coverings and quilting parties. In all of these except the Fourth
+of July celebration it was a share-the-work idea. Uncle Henry grew a bit
+sad when he recalled how "peoples use ter be so good 'bout hep'in' one
+'nother, an' now dey don't do nothin' fer nobody lessen' dey pays 'em."
+He told how, when a neighbor cleared a new ground and needed help, he
+invited all the men for some distance around and had a big supper
+prepared. They rolled logs into huge piles and set them afire. When all
+were piled high and burning brightly, supper was served by the fire
+light. Sometimes the younger ones danced around the burning logs. When
+there was a big barn full of corn to be shucked the neighbors gladly
+gathered in, shucked the corn for the owner, who had a fiddler and maybe
+some one to play the banjo. The corn was shucked to gay old tunes and
+piled high in another barn. Then after a "good hot supper" there was
+perhaps a dance in the cleared barn. When a neighbor's house needed
+covering, he got the shingles and called in his neighbors and friends,
+who came along with their wives. While the men worked atop the house the
+women were cooking a delicious dinner down in the kitchen. At noon it
+was served amid much merry making. By sundown the house was finished and
+the friends went home happy in the memory of a day spent in toil freely
+given to one who needed it.
+
+All those affairs were working ones, but Uncle Henry told of one that
+marked the end of toil for a season and that was the Fourth of July as
+celebrated on the Hunt and Alfriend plantations. He said: "On the
+evenin' of the third of July all plows, gear, hoes an' all sich farm
+tools wuz bro't in frum the fields an' put in the big grove in front o'
+the house where a long table had been built. On the Fo'th a barbecue wuz
+cooked, when dinner wuz ready all the han's got they plows an' tools,
+the mules wuz bro't up an' gear put on them, an' den ole Uncle Aaron
+started up a song 'bout the crops wuz laid by an' res' time had come,
+an' everybody grabbed a hoe er sumpin', put it on they shoulder an'
+jined the march 'round an' round the table behind Uncle Aaron singin'
+an' marchin', Uncle Aaron linin' off the song an' ev'ry body follerin'
+him. It wuz a sight to see all the han's an' mules er goin' 'round the
+table like that. Den when ev'ry body wuz might nigh 'zausted, they
+stopped an' et a big barbecue dinner. Us use ter work hard to git laid
+by by de Fo'th so's we could celebrate. It sho' wuz a happy time on our
+plantations an' the white peoples enjoyed it as much as us niggers did.
+
+"Us use ter have good times over there in Hancock County", continued
+Uncle Henry. Ev'rybody wuz so good an' kind ter one 'nother; 't'ain't
+like that now--no mam, not lak it use ter be. Why I 'members onst, when
+I fust growed up an' wuz farmin' fer myself, I got sick way long up in
+the Spring, an' my crop wuz et up in grass when one evenin' Mr.
+Harris--(he wuz overseein' fer Mr. Treadwell over on the next plantation
+to the Alfriends)--come by. I wuz out in the field tryin' ter scratch
+'round as best I could, Mr. Harris say: 'Brit, you in de grass mighty
+bad.' I say: 'Yassir, I is, but I been sick an' couldn't hep' myself,
+that's how come I so behind.' He say: 'Look lak you needs hep'.'
+'Yassir,' I says, 'but I ain't got nobody to work but me.' Dat's all he
+said. Well sir, the nex' mornin' by times over comes Mr. Harris wid six
+plows an' eight hoe han's an' they give me a whole day's work an' when
+they finished that evenin' they want a sprig of grass in my crop; it wuz
+clean as this floor, an' I'se tellin' yer the truth. Dat's the way
+peoples use ter do, but not no mo'--everybody too selfish now, an' they
+think ain't nobody got responsibilits (responsibilities) but them."
+
+Speaking of his early life Uncle Henry continued: "When I growed up I
+broke race horses fer white mens an' raced horses too, had rooster
+fights an' done all them kind o' things, but I 'sought 'ligion an' found
+it an' frum that day to this I ain't never done them things no mo'. When
+I jined the Church I had a Game rooster named 'Ranger' that I had won
+ev'ry fight that I had matched him in. Peoples come miles ter see Ranger
+fight; he wuz a Warhorse Game. After I come to be a member of the Church
+I quit fightin' Ranger so Mr. Sykes come over an' axed me what I would
+take fer him, I told him he could have him--I warn't goin' to fight wid
+him any mo'. He took him an' went over three states, winnin' ev'ry fight
+he entered him in an' come home wid fifteen hundred dollars he made on
+Ranger. He give me fifty dollars, but I never wanted him back. Ranger
+wuz a pet an' I could do anything wid 'im. I'd hold out my arm an' tell
+him to come up an' he'd fly up on my arm an' crow. He'd get on up on my
+haid an' crow too. One rainy day 'fore I give him away he got in the lot
+an' kilt three turkeys an' a gobbler fer my Mistess. She got mighty mad
+an' I sho wuz skeered 'til Marse took mine an' Ranger's part an'
+wouldn't let her do nothin' wid us."
+
+Forty-seven years ago Uncle Henry married Annie Tiller of Hancock
+County. They had four children, three of whom are living. About his
+courtship and marriage he has to say: "I wuz at Sunday School one Sunday
+an' saw Annie fer the fust time. I went 'round where she wuz an' wuz
+made 'quainted with her an' right then an' there I said to myself,
+'She's my gal'. I started goin' over to see her an' met her folks. I
+liked her Pa an Ma an' I would set an' talk with them an' 'pear not to
+be payin' much 'tention to Annie. I took candy an' nice things an' give
+to the family, not jest to her. I stood in with the ole folks an'
+'t'warn't long 'fore me an' Annie wuz married." Uncle Henry said he took
+Annie to Sparta to his Pastor's home for the marriage and the preacher
+told him he charged three dollars for the ceremony. "But I tole him I
+warnt goin' to give him but er dollar an' a half 'cause I wuz one of his
+best payin' members an' he ought not to charge me no more than dat. An'
+I never paid him no mo' neither, an' dat wuz er plenty."
+
+Though he is crippled in his "feets" he is hale and hearty and manages
+to work without missing a day. He is senior Steward in his church and
+things there go about like he says even though he isn't a preacher. All
+the members seem to look to him for "consulation an' 'couragement". In
+all his long life he has "never spoke a oath if I knows it, an' I hates
+cussin'." He speaks of his morning devotions as "havin' prayers wid
+myself". His blessing at mealtime is the same one he learned in his
+"white peoples'" home when he was a little boy:
+
+  "We humbly thank Thee, our Heavenly Father,
+     for what we have before us."
+
+Uncle Henry says: "I loves white peoples an' I'm a-livin' long 'cause in
+my early days dey cared fer me an' started me off right--they's my bes'
+frien's."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5
+E.F. Driskell
+12/30/36
+
+JULIA RUSH, Ex-Slave
+109 years old]
+
+[TR: The beginning of each line on the original typewritten pages for
+this interview is very faint, and some words have been reconstructed
+from context. Questionable entries are followed by [??]; words that
+could not be deciphered are indicated by [--].]
+
+
+Mrs. Julia Rush was born in 1826 on Saint Simons Island, Georgia. Mrs.
+Rush, her mother, and three sisters were the property of a Frenchman
+named Colonel De Binien, a very wealthy land owner. Mrs. Rush does not
+remember her father as he was sold away from his family when she was a
+baby.
+
+As a child Mrs. Rush served as playmate to one of the Colonel's
+daughters and so all that she had to do was to play from morning till
+night. When she grew older she started working in the kitchen in the
+master's house. Later she was sent to the fields where she worked side
+by side with her mother and three sisters from sunup until sundown.
+Mrs. Rush says that she has plowed so much that she believes she can
+"outplow" any man.
+
+Instead of the white overseer usually found on plantations the Colonel
+used one of the slaves to act as foreman of the field hands. He was
+known to the other slaves as the "Nigger Driver" and it was he who
+awakened all every morning. It was so dark until torch lights had to be
+used to see by. Those women who had babies took them along to the field
+in a basket which they placed on their heads. All of the hands were
+given a certain amount of work to perform each day and if the work was
+not completed a whipping might be forthcoming. Breakfast was sent to the
+field to the hands and if at dinner time they were not too far away from
+their cabins they were permitted to go home[??]. At night they prepared
+their own meals in their individual cabins.
+
+All food on the colonel's plantation was issued daily from the corn
+house. Each person was given enough corn to make a sufficient amount of
+bread for the day when ground. Then they went out and dug their potatoes
+from the colonel's garden. No meat whatsoever was issued. It was up to
+the slaves to catch fish, oysters, and other sea food for their meat
+supply. All those who desired to were permitted to raise chickens,
+watermelons and vegetables. There was no restriction on any as to what
+must be done with the produce so raised. It could be sold or kept for
+personal consumption.
+
+Colonel De Binien always saw that his slaves had sufficient clothing. In
+the summer months the men were given two shirts, two pairs of pants, and
+two pairs of underwear. All of these clothes were made of cotton and all
+were sewed on the plantation. No shoes were worn in the summer. The
+women were given two dresses, two underskirts, and two pairs of
+underwear. When the winter season approached another issue of clothes
+was given. At this time shoes were given. They were made of heavy red
+leather and were known as "brogans".
+
+The slave quarters on the plantation were located behind the colonel's
+cabin[??]. All were made of logs. The chinks in the walls were filled
+with mud to keep the weather out. The floors were of wood in order to
+protect the occupants from the dampness. The only furnishings were a
+crude bed and several benches. All cooking was done at the large
+fireplace in the rear of the one room.
+
+When Colonel De Binion's [TR: earlier, De Binien] wife died he divided
+his slaves among the children. Mrs. Rush was given to her former
+playmate who was at the time married and living in Carrollton, Georgia.
+She was very mean and often punished her by beating her on her forearm
+for the slightest offence. At other times she made her husband whip her
+(Mrs. Rush) on her bare back with a cowhide whip. Mrs. Rush says that
+her young Mistress thought that her husband was being intimate with her
+and so she constantly beat and mistreated her. On one occasion all of
+the hair on her head (which was long and straight) was cut from her head
+by the young mistress.
+
+For a while Mrs. Rush worked in the fields where she plowed and hoed the
+crops along with the other slaves. Later she worked in the master's
+house where she served as maid and where she helped with the cooking.
+She was often hired out to the other planters in the vicinity. She says
+that she liked this because she always received better treatment than
+she did at her own home. These persons who hired her often gave her
+clothes as she never received a sufficient amount from her own master.
+
+The food was almost the same here as it had been at the other
+plantation. At the end of each week she and her fellow slaves were given
+a "little bacon, vegetables, and some corn meal."[HW: ?] This had to
+last for a certain length of time. If it was all eaten before the time
+for the next issue that particular slave had to live as best he or she
+could. In such an emergency the other slaves usually shared with the
+unfortunate one.
+
+There was very little illness on the plantation where Mrs. Rush lived.
+Practically the only medicine ever used was castor oil and turpentine.
+Some of the slaves went to the woods and gathered roots and herbs from
+which they made their own tonics and medicines.
+
+According to Mrs. Rush the first of the month was always sale day for
+slaves and horses. She was sold on one of those days from her master in
+Carrollton to one Mr. Morris, who lived in Newman, Ga. Mr. Morris paid
+$1100.00 for her. She remained with him for a short while and was later
+sold to one Mr. Ray who paid the price of $1200.00. Both of these
+masters were very kind to her, but she was finally sold back to her
+former master, Mr. Archibald Burke of Carrollton, Ga.
+
+Mrs. Rush remembers that none of the slaves were allowed away from their
+plantation unless they held a pass from their master. Once when she was
+going to town to visit some friends she was accosted by a group of
+"Paddle-Rollers" who gave her a sound whipping when she was unable to
+show a pass from her master.
+
+Mrs. Rush always slept in her masters' houses after leaving Colonel De
+Binien. When she was in Carrollton her young mistress often made her
+sleep under the house when she was angry with her.
+
+After the war was over with and freedom was declared Mr. Burke continued
+to hold Mrs. Rush. After several unsuccessful attempts she was finally
+able to escape. She went to another part of the state where she married
+and started a family of her own.
+
+Because of the cruel treatment that she received at the hands of some of
+her owners[??] Mrs. Rush says that the mere thought of slavery makes her
+blood boil. Then there are those, under whom she served, who treated her
+with kindness, whom she holds no malice against.
+
+As far as Mrs. Rush knows the war did very little damage to Mr. Burke.
+He did not enlist as a soldier.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave #96]
+
+[HW: Good ghost story on page 4.]
+[HW: "revolution drummer" parts very good.]
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+NANCY SETTLES, Ex-slave, Age 92
+2511 Wheeler Road
+(Richmond County)
+Augusta, Georgia
+
+By: (Mrs.) MARGARET JOHNSON
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Nancy Settles was born 15 miles from Edgefield in South Carolina on the
+plantation of Mr. Berry Cochran.
+
+Until about five months ago, Nancy had been bed-ridden for three years.
+Her speech is slow, and at times it is difficult to understand her, but
+her mind is fairly clear. Her eyes frequently filled with tears, her
+voice becoming so choked she could not talk. "My Marster and Missis, my
+husban' and eight of my chaps done lef me. De Lawd mus be keepin' me
+here fur some reason. Dis here chile is all I got lef'." The "Chile"
+referred to was a woman about 69. "My fust chap was born in slavery. Me
+and my husband lived on diffunt plantashuns till after Freedom come. My
+Ma and my Pa lived on diffunt places too. My Pa uster come evy Sadday
+evenin' to chop wood out uv de wood lot and pile up plenty fur Ma till
+he come agin. On Wensday evenin', Pa uster come after he been huntin'
+and bring in possum and coon. He sho could get 'em a plenty.
+
+"Ma, she chop cotton and plow, and I started choppin' cotton when I wuz
+twelve years old. When I was a gal I sure wuz into plenty devilment."
+
+"What kind of devilment?"
+
+"Lawdy Miss, evy time I heayd a fiddle, my feets jes' got to dance and
+dancin' is devilment. But I ain't 'lowed to dance nothin' but de
+six-handed reel.
+
+"I uster take my young Misses to school ev'y day, but de older Misses
+went to boadin' school and come home ev'y Friday an' went back on
+Monday. No ma'am, I never learn to read and write but I kin spell some."
+
+"Nancy, did you go out at night and were you ever caught by the patrol?"
+
+"No, ma'am, I never wuz caught by de patterol; my Pa wuz the one I was
+scart uv."
+
+"Did you always have enough to eat, and clothes to wear?"
+
+"Yes ma'am, Marster put out a side uv meat and a barrul o' meal and all
+uv us would go and git our rations fur de week."
+
+"Suppose some one took more than his share, and the supply ran short."
+
+"Lawd Ma'am, we knowed better'n to do dat kinder thing. Eve'ybody, had
+er garden patch an' had plenty greens and taters and all dat kinder
+thing. De cloth fur de slave close wuz all made on the place and Missis
+see to mekkin' all de close we wear."
+
+"My Missis died endurin' of de war, but Marster he live a long time.
+Yes, Ma'am, we went to Church an to camp meetin' too. We set up in de
+galley, and ef dey too many uv us, we set in de back uv de church. Camp
+meetin' wuz de bes'. Before Missis died I wuz nussin' my young miss
+baby, and I ride in de white foke's kerrage to camp meetin' groun' and
+carry de baby. Lawdy, I seen de white folks and de slaves too shoutin'
+an gittin' 'ligion plenty times."
+
+"Nancy, were the slaves on your place ever whipped?"
+
+"Yes'm sometimes when de wouldn' mine, but Marster allus whip 'em
+hissef, he ain't let nobody else lay er finger on his slaves but him. I
+heayd 'bout slaves been whipped but I tink de wuz whipped mostly cause
+de Marsters _could_ whip 'em."
+
+"Nancy do you know any ghost stories, or did you ever see a ghost?"
+
+"No, Ma'am, I ain't never see a ghos' but I heayd de drum!"
+
+"What drum did you hear--war drums?"
+
+"No, ma'am de drum de little man beats down by Rock Crick. Some say he
+is a little man whut wears a cap and goes down the crick beating a drum
+befo' a war. He wuz a Revolushun drummer, and cum back to beat the drum
+befo' de war. But some say you can hear de drum 'most any spring now. Go
+down to the Crick and keep quiet and you hear Brrr, Brrr, Bum hum,
+louder and louder and den it goes away. Some say dey hav' seen de little
+man, but I never seen him, but I heayd de drum, 'fo de war, and ater dat
+too. There was a white man kilt hisself near our place. He uster play a
+fiddle, and some time he come back an play. I has heayd him play his
+fiddle, but I ain't seen him. Some fokes say dey is seen him in the wood
+playin' and walkin' 'bout."
+
+"Nancy I am glad you are better than you were the last time I came to
+see you."
+
+"Yes, Ma'am, I is up now. I prayed to God and tell Him my trouble and he
+helped me get about again. This po chile uv mine does what she kin to
+pay de rent and de Welfare gives us a bit to eat but I sho do need er
+little wood, cause we is back on de rent and my chile jes scrap 'bout to
+pick up trash wood and things to burn."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by ex-slave
+
+WILL SHEETS, Age 76
+1290 W. Broad Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sadie B. Hornsby
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+Leila Harris
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 13 1938]
+
+
+Old Will Sheets readily complied with the request that he tell of his
+experiences during slavery days. "No'm I don't mind, its been many a
+long day since anybody axed me to talk 'bout things dat far back, but I
+laks to have somebody to talk to 'cause I can't git 'bout no more since
+I los' both of my footses, and I gits powerful lonesome sometimes.
+
+"I was borned in Oconee County, not far f'um whar Bishop is now. It
+warn't nothin' but a cornfield, way back in dem times. Ma was Jane
+Southerland 'fore she married my pa. He was Tom Sheets. Lawsy Miss! I
+don't know whar dey cone f'um. As far as I knows, dey was borned and
+raised on deir Marsters' plantations. Dar was seven of us chilluns. I
+was de oldes'; James, Joe, Speer, Charlie, and Ham was my brudders, and
+my onlies' sister was Frances.
+
+"You ax me 'bout my gram'ma and gram'pa? I can't tell you nothin' t'all
+'bout 'em. I jus' knows I had 'em and dat's all. You see Ma was a house
+gal and de mos' I seed of her was when she come to de cabin at night;
+den us chilluns was too sleepy to talk. Soon as us et, us drapped down
+on a pallet and went fast asleep. Niggers is a sleepyheaded set.
+
+"I was a water boy, and was 'spected to tote water f'um de spring to de
+house, and to de hands in de fiel'. I helped Mandy, one of de colored
+gals, to drive de calves to de pasture and I toted in a little wood and
+done little easy jobs lak dat. Lawsy Miss! I never seed no money 'til
+atter de War. If I had a had any money what could I have done wid it,
+when I couldn't leave dat place to spend it?
+
+"Dare ain't much to tell 'bout what little Nigger chillun done in
+slavery days. Dem what was big enough had to wuk, and dem what warn't,
+played, slep' and scrapped. Little Niggers is bad as game chickens 'bout
+fightin'. De quarters whar us lived was log cabins chinked wid mud to
+keep out de rain and wind. Chimblies was made out of fiel' rock and red
+clay. I never seed a cabin wid more dan two rooms in it.
+
+"Beds warn't fancy dem days lak dey is now; leastwise I didn't see no
+fancy ones. All de beds was corded; dey had a headboard, but de pieces
+at de foot and sides was jus' wide enough for holes to run de cords
+thoo', and den de cords was pegged to hold 'em tight. Nigger chillun
+slep' on pallets on de flo'.
+
+"Marse Jeff Southerland was a pore man, but he fed us all us could eat
+sich as turnips, cabbages, collards, green corn, fat meat, cornbread,
+'taters and sometimes chicken. Yes Ma'am, chicken dinners was sorter
+special. Us didn't have 'em too often. De cookin' was all done at de big
+house in a open fireplace what had a rack crost it dat could be pulled
+out to take de pots off de fire. 'Fore dey started cookin', a fire was
+made up ready and waitin'; den de pots of victuals was hung on de rack
+and swung in de fireplace to bile. Baking was done in skillets. Us
+cotched rabbits three and four at a time in box traps sot out in de plum
+orchard. Sometimes us et 'em stewed wid dumplin's and some times dey was
+jus' plain biled, but us laked 'em bes' of all when dey was fried lak
+chickens.
+
+"Oh! dem 'possums! How I wisht I had one right now. My pa used to ketch
+40 or 50 of 'em a winter. Atter dey married, Ma had to stay on wid Marse
+Jeff and Pa was 'bliged to keep on livin' wid Marster Marsh Sheets. His
+marster give him a pass so dat he could come and stay wid Ma at night
+atter his wuk was done, and he fetched in de 'possums. Dey was baked in
+de white folkses kitchen wid sweet 'tatoes 'roun' 'em and was barbecued
+sometimes. Us had fishes too what was mighty good eatin'. Dere warn't
+but one gyarden on de plantation.
+
+"Slave chillun didn't wear nothin' in summer but shirts what looked lak
+gowns wid long sleeves. Gals and boys was dressed in de same way when
+dey was little chaps. In winter us wore shirts made out of coarse cloth
+and de pants and little coats was made out of wool. De gals wore wool
+dresses." He laughed and said: "On Sunday us jus' wore de same things.
+Did you say shoes? Lawsy Miss! I was eight or nine 'fore I had on a pair
+of shoes. On frosty mornin's when I went to de spring to fetch a bucket
+of water, you could see my feet tracks in de frost all de way dar and
+back.
+
+"Miss Carrie, my Mist'ess, was good as she knowed how to be. Marse and
+Mist'ess had two gals and one boy, Miss Anna, Miss Callie, and Marster
+Johnny.
+
+"Marse Jeff was a good man; he never whupped and slashed his Niggers. No
+Ma'am, dere warn't nobody whupped on Marse Jeff's place dat I knows
+'bout. He didn't have no overseer. Dere warn't no need for one 'cause he
+didn't have so many slaves but what he could do de overseein' his own
+self. Marse Jeff jus' had 'bout four mens and four 'oman slaves and him
+and young Marse Johnny wukked in de fiel' 'long side of de Niggers. Dey
+went to de fiel' by daybreak and come in late at night.
+
+"When Marse Jeff got behind wid his crop, he would hire slaves f'um
+other white folkses, mostly f'um Pa's marster, dat's how Pa come to know
+my Ma.
+
+"Dere was 'bout a hunderd acres in our plantation countin' de woods and
+pastures. Dey had 'bout three or four acres fenced in wid pine poles in
+a plum orchard. Dat's whar dey kep' de calves.
+
+"Dere was a jail at Watkinsville, but Marse Jeff never had none of his
+slaves put in no jail. He didn't have so many but what he could make 'em
+behave. I never seed no slaves sold, but I seed 'em in a wagon passin'
+by on deir way to de block. Marse Jeff said dey was takin' 'em a long
+ways off to sell 'em. Dat's why dey was a-ridin'.
+
+"Miss Anna larned Ma her A.B.C's. She could read a little, but she never
+larned to write.
+
+"Slaves went to de white folkses church if dey went a t'all. I never
+could sing no tune. I'se lak my Ma; she warn't no singer. Dat's how come
+I can't tell you 'bout de songs what dey sung den. I 'members de fus'
+time I seed anybody die; I was 'bout eight years old, and I was twelve
+'fore I ever seed a funeral. No Ma'am, us chilluns didn't go to no
+baptizin's--Ma went, but us didn't.
+
+"Didn't none of Marse Jeff's Niggers run off to no North, but I heared
+of a Nigger what did on de place whar my Pa was at. De only thing I
+knowed what might a made him run to de North was dat Niggers thought if
+dey got dar dey would be in Heb'en. Dem patterollers was somepin' else.
+I heared folkses say dey would beat de daylights mos' out of you if dey
+cotched you widout no pass. Us lived on de big road, and I seed 'em
+passin' mos' anytime. I mos' know dere was plenty trouble twixt de
+Niggers and de white folkses. Course I never heared tell of none, but
+I'm sho' dere was trouble jus' de same," he slyly remarked.
+
+"Marse Jeff wukked dem few Niggers so hard dat when dey got to deir
+cabins at night dey was glad to jus' rest. Dey all knocked off f'um wuk
+Sadday at 12 o'clock. De 'omans washed, patched, and cleaned up de
+cabins, and de mens wukked in dey own cotton patches what Marse Jeff
+give 'em. Some Niggers wouldn't have no cotton patch 'cause dey was too
+lazy to wuk. But dey was all of 'em right dar Sadday nights when de
+frolickin' and dancin' was gwine on. On Sundays dey laid 'round and
+slep'. Some went to church if dey wanted to. Marster give 'em a pass to
+keep patterollers f'um beatin' 'em when dey went to church.
+
+"Us chilluns was glad to see Chris'mas time come 'cause us had plenty to
+eat den; sich as hogshead, backbones, a heap of cake, and a little
+candy. Us had apples what had been growed on de place and stored away
+special for Chris'mas. Marse Jeff bought some lallahoe, dat was syrup,
+and had big old pones of lightbread baked for us to sop it up wid. What
+us laked best 'bout Chris'mas was de good old hunk of cheese dey give us
+den and de groundpeas. Don't you know what groundpeas is? Dem's goobers
+(peanuts). Such a good time us did have, a-parchin' and a-eatin' dem
+groundpeas! If dere was oranges us didn't git none. Marse Jeff give de
+grown folkses plenty of liquor and dey got drunk and cut de buck whilst
+it lasted. New Year's Day was de time to git back to wuk.
+
+"Marse Jeff was sich a pore man he didn't have no corn shuckin's on his
+place, but he let his Niggers go off to 'em and he went along hisself.
+Dey had a big time a-hollerin' and singin' and shuckin' corn. Atter de
+shuckin' was all done dere was plenty to eat and drink--nothin' short
+'bout dem corn shuckin's.
+
+"When slaves got sick, dey didn't have no doctor dat I knowed 'bout.
+Miss Carrie done de doctorin' herself. Snake root tea was good for colds
+and stomach mis'ries. Dey biled rabbit tobacco, pine tops, and mullein
+together; tuk de tea and mixed it wid 'lasses; and give it to us for
+diffunt ailments. If dey done dat now, folkses would live longer. Ma put
+asafiddy (asafetida) sacks 'round our necks to keep off sickness.
+
+"Ma said us was gwine to be free. Marse Jeff said us warn't, and he
+didn't tell us no diffunt 'til 'bout Chris'mas atter de War was done
+over wid in April. He told us dat us was free, but he wanted us to stay
+on wid him, and didn't none of his Niggers leave him. Dey all wukked de
+same as dey had before dey was sot free only he paid 'em wages atter de
+War.
+
+"I 'members dem Yankees comin' down de big road a-stealin' as dey went
+'long. Dey swapped deir bags of bones for de white folkses good fat
+hosses. I never seed so many pore hosses at one time in my life as dey
+had. Dem Yankees stole all da meat, chickens, and good bedclothes and
+burnt down de houses. Dey done devilment aplenty as dey went 'long. I
+'members Marse Jeff put one of his colored mens on his hoss wid a
+coffeepot full of gold and sont him to de woods. Atter dem Yankees went
+on he sont for him to fetch back de gold and de fine hoss what he done
+saved f'um de sojer mens.
+
+"I heared tell of dem Ku Kluxers, but I never seed 'em. Lawsy Miss! What
+did Niggers have to buy land wid 'til atter dey wukked long enough for
+to make some money? Warn't no schoolin' done 'round whar us lived. I was
+10 years old 'fore I ever sot foots in a schoolhouse. De nearest school
+was at Shady Grove.
+
+"It was a long time atter de War 'fore I married. Us didn't have no
+weddin'; jus' got married. My old 'oman had on a calico dress--I
+disremembers what color. She looked good to me though. Us had 16
+chilluns in all; four died. I got 22 grandchillun and one great
+grandchild. None of 'em has jobs to brag 'bout; one of 'em larned to
+run a store.
+
+"I think Mr. Lincoln was a great man, 'cause he sot us free. When I
+thinks back, it warn't no good feelin' to be bound down lak dat. Mr.
+President Davis wanted us to stay bound down. No Ma'am, I didn't lak dat
+Mr. Davis atter I knowed what he stood for. 'Course dere is plenty what
+needs to be bound down hard and fast so dey won't git in no trouble. But
+for me I trys to behave myself, and I sho' had ruther be free. I guess
+atter all it's best dat slavery days is over. 'Bout dat Booker
+Washin'ton man, de Niggers what tuk him in said he done lots of good for
+his race, and I reckon he did.
+
+"Somepin' 'nother jus' made me jine de church. I wanted to do better'n
+what I was doin'. De Lord says it's best for folkses to be 'ligious.
+
+"No Ma'am, I don't 'spect to live as long as my Ma lived, 'cause dese
+legs of mine since I done los' both of my footses wid blood pizen atter
+gangreen sot in, sho' gives me a passel of trouble. But de Lord is good
+to me and no tellin' how long I'se gwine to stay here. Miss, you sho'
+tuk me way back yonder, and I laks to talk 'bout it. Yes, Ma'am, dat's
+been a long time back."
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT SHEPHERD, Age 91
+386 Arch Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+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
+
+
+Robert lives in a small house so old and in such bad repair that a
+strong wind would no doubt tumble it down. Large holes in the roof
+can be plainly seen from the gateway. The neat yard, filled with
+old-fashioned flowers, is enclosed by a makeshift fence of rusty wire
+sagging to the ground in places, and the gate rocks on one hinge. There
+was some evidence that a porch had extended across the front of the
+cottage, but it is entirely gone now and large rocks serve as steps at
+the doorway.
+
+Knocks and calls at the front of the house were unanswered and finally
+Robert was found working in his garden behind the house. He is a tiny
+old man, and his large sun hat made him seem smaller than he actually
+was. He wore a clean but faded blue shirt and shabby gray pants much too
+large for him. His shoes, bound to his feet with strips of cloth, were
+so much too large that it was all he could do to shuffle along. He
+removed his hat and revealed white hair that contrasted with his black
+face, as he smiled in a friendly way. "Good morning, Missy! How is you?"
+was his greeting. Despite his advanced age, he keeps his garden in
+excellent condition. Not a blade of grass was to be seen. Asked how he
+managed to keep it worked so efficiently he proudly answered: "Well
+Miss, I jus' wuks in it some evvy day dat comes 'cept Sundays and, when
+you keeps right up wid it dat way, it ain't so hard. Jus' look 'round
+you! Don't you see I got de bestest beans and squashes, 'round here, and
+down under dem 'tater vines, I kin tell you, dem roots is jus' full of
+'taters. My Old Marster done larnt me how to gyarden. He allus made us
+raise lots of gyarden sass such as: beans, peas, roas'in' ears,
+collards, turnip greens, and ingons (onions). For a fact, dere was jus'
+'bout all de kinds of veg'tables us knowed anything 'bout dem days right
+dar in our Marster's big old gyarden. Dere was big patches of 'taters,
+and in dem wheatfields us growed enough to make bread for all de folks
+on dat dere plantation. Us sho' did have plenty of mighty good somepin
+t'eat.
+
+"I would ax you to come in and set down in my house to talk," he said,
+"but I don't 'spect you could climb up dem dere rocks to my door, and
+dem's all de steps I got." When Robert called to his daughter, who lived
+next door, and told her to bring out some chairs, she suggested that the
+interview take place on her porch. "It's shady and cool on my porch,"
+she said, "and Pa's done been a-diggin' in his garden so long he's plum
+tuckered out; he needs to set down and rest." After making her father
+comfortable, she drew up a bucket of water from the well at the edge of
+the porch and, after he had indulged in a long drink of the fresh water,
+he began his story.
+
+"I was borned on Marster Joe Echols' plantation in Oglethorpe County,
+'bout 10 miles from Lexin'ton, Georgy. Mammy was Cynthia Echols 'fore
+she married up wid my daddy. He was Peyton Shepherd. Atter Pappy and
+Mammy got married, Old Marse Shepherd sold Pappy to Marse Joe Echols so
+as dey could stay together.
+
+"Marse Joe, he had three plantations, but he didn't live on none of 'em.
+He lived in Lexin'ton. He kept a overseer on each one of his plantations
+and dey had better be good to his Niggers, or else Marse Joe would sho'
+git 'em 'way from dar. He never 'lowed 'em to wuk us too hard, and in
+bad or real cold weather us didn't have to do no outside wuk 'cept
+evvyday chores what had to be done, come rain or shine, lak milkin',
+tendin' de stock, fetchin' in wood, and things lak dat. He seed dat us
+had plenty of good somepin t'eat and all de clothes us needed. Us was
+lots better off in dem days dan us is now.
+
+"Old Marster, he had so many Niggers dat he never knowed 'em all. One
+day he was a-ridin' 'long towards one of his plantations and he met one
+of his slaves, named William. Marse Joe stopped him and axed him who he
+was. William said: 'Why Marster, I'se your Nigger. Don't you know me?'
+Den Marster, he jus' laughed and said: 'Well, hurry on home when you
+gits what you is gwine atter.' He was in a good humor dat way most all
+de time. I kin see him now a-ridin' dat little hoss of his'n what he
+called Button, and his little fice dog hoppin' 'long on three legs right
+side of de hoss. No Ma'am, dere warn't nothin' de matter wid' dat little
+dog; walkin' on three legs was jus' his way of gittin' 'round.
+
+"Marster never let none of de slave chillun on his plantation do no wuk
+'til dey got fifteen--dat was soon 'nough, he said. On all of his
+plantations dere was one old 'oman dat didn't have nothin' else to do
+but look atter and cook for de nigger chillun whilst dey mammies was at
+wuk in de fields. Aunt Viney tuk keer of us. She had a big old horn what
+she blowed when it was time for us to eat, and us knowed better dan to
+git so fur off us couldn't hear dat horn, for Aunt Viney would sho' tear
+us up. Marster had done told her she better fix us plenty t'eat and give
+it to us on time. Dere was a great long trough what went plum 'cross de
+yard, and dat was whar us et. For dinner us had peas or some other sort
+of veg'tables, and cornbread. Aunt Viney crumbled up dat bread in de
+trough and poured de veg'tables and pot-likker over it. Den she blowed
+de horn and chillun come a-runnin' from evvy which away. If us et it all
+up, she had to put more victuals in de trough. At nights, she crumbled
+de cornbread in de trough and poured buttermilk over it. Us never had
+nothin' but cornbread and buttermilk at night. Sometimes dat trough
+would be a sight, 'cause us never stopped to wash our hands, and 'fore
+us had been eatin' more dan a minute or two what was in de trough would
+look lak de red mud what had come off of our hands. Sometimes Aunt Viney
+would fuss at us and make us clean it out.
+
+"Dere was a big sand bar down on de crick what made a fine place to
+play, and wadin' in de branches was lots of fun. Us frolicked up and
+down dem woods and had all sorts of good times--anything to keep away
+from Aunt Viney 'cause she was sho' to have us fetchin' in wood or
+sweepin' de yards if us was handy whar she could find us. If us was out
+of her sight she never bothered 'bout dem yards and things. Us was
+skeered to answer dat horn when us got in Marster's 'bacco. He raised
+lots of 'bacco and rationed it out to mens, but he never 'lowed chillun
+to have none 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Us found out
+how to git in his 'bacco house and us kept on gittin' his 'bacco 'fore
+it was dried out 'til he missed it. Den he told Aunt Viney to blow dat
+horn and call up all de chillun. I'se gwine to whup evvy one of 'em, he
+would 'clare. Atter us got dere and he seed dat green 'bacco had done
+made us so sick us couldn't eat, he jus' couldn't beat us. He jus'
+laughed and said: 'It's good enough for you.'
+
+"Aunt Martha, she done de milkin' and helped Aunt Nancy cook for de
+slaves. Dey had a big long kitchen up at de big house whar de overseer
+lived. De slaves what wuked in de field never had to do deir own
+cookin'. It was all done for 'em in dat big old kitchen. Dey cooked some
+of de victuals in big old washpots and dere was sho' a plenty for all.
+All de cookin' was done in big fireplaces what had racks made inside to
+hang pots on and dey had big old ovens for bakin', and thick iron
+skillets, and long-handled fryin' pans. You jus' can't 'magine how good
+things was cooked dat way on de open fire. Nobody never had no better
+hams and other meat dan our Marster kept in dem big old smokehouses, and
+his slaves had meat jus' lak white folks did. Dem cooks knowed dey had
+to cook a plenty and have it ready when it was time for de slaves to
+come in from de fields. Miss Ellen, she was the overseer's wife, went
+out in de kitchen and looked over evvything to see that it was all right
+and den she blowed de bugle. When de slaves heared dat bugle, dey come
+in a-singin' from de fields. Dey was happy 'cause dey knowed Miss Ellen
+had a good dinner ready for 'em.
+
+"De slave quarters was long rows of log cabins wid chimblies made out of
+sticks and red mud. Dem chimblies was all de time ketchin' fire. Dey
+didn't have no glass windows. For a window, dey jus' cut a openin' in a
+log and fixed a piece of plank 'cross it so it would slide when dey
+wanted to open or close it. Doors was made out of rough planks, beds was
+rough home-made frames nailed to de side of de cabins, and mattresses
+was coarse, home-wove ticks filled wid wheat straw. Dey had good
+home-made kivver. Dem beds slept mighty good.
+
+"Dere warn't many folks sick dem days, 'specially 'mongst de slaves.
+When one did die, folks would go 12 or 15 miles to de buryin'. Marster
+would say: 'Take de mules and wagons and go but, mind you, take good
+keer of dem mules.' He never seemed to keer if us went--fact was, he
+said us ought to go. If a slave died on our place, nobody went to de
+fields 'til atter de buryin'. Marster never let nobody be buried 'til
+dey had been dead 24 hours, and if dey had people from some other place,
+he waited 'til dey could git dar. He said it warn't right to hurry 'em
+off into de ground too quick atter dey died. Dere warn't no undertakers
+dem days. De homefolks jus' laid de corpse out on de coolin' board 'til
+de coffin was made. Lordy Miss! Ain't you never seed one of dem coolin'
+boards? A coolin' board was made out of a long straight plank raised a
+little at de head, and had legs fixed to make it set straight. Dey wropt
+'oman corpses in windin' sheets. Uncle Squire, de man what done all de
+wagon wuk and buildin' on our place, made coffins. Dey was jus' plain
+wood boxes what dey painted to make 'em look nice. White preachers
+conducted de funerals, and most of de time our own Marster done it,
+'cause he was a preacher hisself. When de funeral was done preached, dey
+sung _Harps From De Tomb_, den dey put de coffin in a wagon and driv
+slow and keerful to de graveyard. De preacher prayed at de grave and de
+mourners sung, _I'se Born To Die and Lay Dis Body Down_. Dey never had
+no outside box for de coffin to be sot in, but dey put planks on top of
+de coffin 'fore dey started shovellin' in de dirt.
+
+"Fourth Sundays was our meetin' days, and evvybody went to church. Us
+went to our white folks' church and rid in a wagon 'hind deir car'iage.
+Dere was two Baptist preachers--one of 'em was Mr. John Gibson and de
+other was Mr. Patrick Butler. Marse Joe was a Methodist preacher
+hisself, but dey all went to de same church together. De Niggers sot in
+de gallery. When dey had done give de white folks de sacrament, dey
+called de Niggers down from de gallery and give dem sacrament too.
+Church days was sho' 'nough big meetin' days 'cause evvybody went. Dey
+preached three times a day; at eleven in de mornin', at three in de
+evenin', and den again at night. De biggest meetin' house crowds was
+when dey had baptizin', and dat was right often. Dey dammed up de crick
+on Sadday so as it would be deep enough on Sunday, and dey done de
+baptizin' 'fore dey preached de three o'clock sermon. At dem baptizin's
+dere was all sorts of shoutin', and dey would sing _Roll Jordan, Roll_,
+_De Livin' Waters_, and _Lord I'se Comin' Home_.
+
+"When de craps was laid by and most of de hardest wuk of de year done
+up, den was camp-meetin' time, 'long in de last of July and sometimes in
+August. Dat was when us had de biggest times of all. Dey had great big
+long tables and jus' evvything good t'eat. Marster would kill five or
+six hogs and have 'em carried dar to be barbecued, and he carried his
+own cooks along. Atter de white folks et dey fed de Niggers, and dere
+was allus a plenty for all. Marster sho' looked atter all his Niggers
+good at dem times. When de camp-meetin' was over, den come de big
+baptizin': white folks fust, den Niggers. One time dere was a old slave
+'oman what got so skeered when dey got her out in de crick dat somebody
+had to pull her foots out from under her to git her under de water. She
+got out from dar and testified dat it was de devil a-holdin' her back.
+
+"De white ladies had nice silk dresses to wear to church. Slave 'omans
+had new calico dresses what dey wore wid hoopskirts dey made out of
+grapevines. Dey wore poke bonnets wid ruffles on 'em and, if de weather
+was sort of cool, dey wore shawls. Marster allus wore his linen duster.
+Dat was his white coat, made cutaway style wid long tails. De cloth for
+most all of de clothes was made at home. Marse Joe raised lots of sheep
+and de wool was used to make cloth for de winter clothes. Us had a great
+long loom house whar some of de slaves didn't do nothin' but weave
+cloth. Some cyarded bats, some done de spinnin', and dere was more of
+'em to do de sewin'. Miss Ellen, she looked atter all dat, and she cut
+out most of de clothes. She seed dat us had plenty to wear. Sometimes
+Marster would go to de sewin' house, and Mist'ess would tell him to git
+on 'way from dar and look atter his own wuk, dat her and Aunt Julia
+could run dat loom house. Marster, he jus' laughed den and told us
+chillun what was hangin' round de door to jus' listen to dem 'omans
+cackle. Oh, but he was a good old boss man.
+
+"Us had water buckets, called piggens, what was made out of cedar and
+had handles on de sides. Sometimes us sawed off little vinegar kegs and
+put handles on 'em. Us loved to drink out of gourds. Dere was lots of
+gourds raised evvy year. Some of 'em was so big dey was used to keep
+eggs in and for lots of things us uses baskets for now. Dem little
+gourds made fine dippers.
+
+"Dem cornshuckin's was sho' 'nough big times. When us got all de corn
+gathered up and put in great long piles, den de gittin' ready started.
+Why dem 'omans cooked for days, and de mens would git de shoats ready to
+barbecue. Marster would send us out to git de slaves from de farms
+'round about dar.
+
+"De place was all lit up wid light'ood-knot torches and bonfires, and
+dere was 'citement a-plenty when all de Niggers got to singin' and
+shoutin' as dey made de shucks fly. One of dem songs went somepin lak
+dis: 'Oh! my haid, my pore haid, Oh! my pore haid is 'fected.' Dere
+warn't nothin' wrong wid our haids--dat was jus' our way of lettin' our
+overseer know us wanted some likker. Purty soon he would come 'round wid
+a big horn of whiskey, and dat made de 'pore haid' well, but it warn't
+long 'fore it got wuss again, and den us got another horn of whiskey.
+When de corn was all shucked den us et all us could and, let me tell
+you, dat was some good eatin's. Den us danced de rest of de night.
+
+"Next day when us all felt so tired and bad, Marster he would tell us
+'bout stayin' up all night, but Mist'ess tuk up for us, and dat tickled
+Old Marster. He jus' laughed and said: 'Will you listen to dat 'oman?'
+Den he would make some of us sing one of dem songs us had done been
+singin' to dance by. It goes sort of lak dis: 'Turn your pardner 'round!
+Steal 'round de corner, 'cause dem Johnson gals is hard to beat! Jus'
+glance 'round and have a good time! Dem gals is hard to find!' Dat's
+jus' 'bout all I can ricollect of it now.
+
+"Us had big 'possum hunts, and us sho' cotched a heap of 'em. De gals
+cooked 'em wid 'taters and dey jus' made your mouth water. I sho' wish I
+had one now. Rabbits was good too. Marster didn't 'low no huntin' wid
+guns, so us jus' took dogs when us went huntin'. Rabbits was kilt wid
+sticks and rocks 'cept when a big snow come. Dey was easy to track to
+dey beds den, and us could jus' reach in and pull 'em out. When us cotch
+'nough of 'em, us had big rabbit suppers.
+
+"De big war was 'bout over when dem yankees come by our place and jus'
+went through evvything. Dey called all de slaves together and told 'em
+dey was free and didn't b'long to nobody no more, and said de slaves
+could take all dey wanted from de smokehouses and barns and de big
+house, and could go when and whar dey wanted to go. Dey tried to hand us
+out all de meat and hams, but us told 'em us warn't hongry, 'cause
+Marster had allus done give us all us wanted. When dey couldn't make
+none of us take nothin', dey said it was de strangest thing dey had done
+ever seed, and dat dat man Echols must have sho' been good to his
+Niggers.
+
+"When dem yankees had done gone off Marster come out to our place. He
+blowed de bugle to call us all up to de house. He couldn't hardly talk,
+'cause somebody had done told him dat dem yankees couldn't talk his
+Niggers into stealin' nothin'. Marster said he never knowed 'fore how
+good us loved him. He told us he had done tried to be good to us and had
+done de best he could for us and dat he was mighty proud of de way evvy
+one of us had done 'haved ourselfs. He said dat de war was over now, and
+us was free and could go anywhar us wanted to, but dat us didn't have to
+go if us wanted to stay dar. He said he would pay us for our wuk and
+take keer of us if us stayed or, if us wanted to wuk on shares, he would
+'low us to wuk some land dat way. A few of dem Niggers drifted off, but
+most of 'em stayed right dar 'til dey died."
+
+A sad note had come into Robert's voice and he seemed to be almost
+overcome by the sorrow aroused by his reminiscences. His daughter was
+quick to perceive this and interrupted the conversation: "Please Lady,"
+she said. "Pa's too feeble to talk any more today. Can't you let him
+rest now and come back again in a day or two? Maybe he will be done
+'membered things he couldn't call back today."
+
+The front door was open when Robert's house was next visited, and a
+young girl answered the knock. "Come in," she said. The little house was
+as dilapidated in the interior as it was on the outside. Bright June
+sunshine filtered through the many gaps in the roof arousing wonder as
+to how the old man managed to remain inside this house during heavy
+rains. The room was scrupulously clean and neat. In it was a very old
+iron bed, a dresser that was minus its mirror, two chairs, and a table,
+all very old and dilapidated. The girl laughed when she called attention
+to a closet that was padlocked. "Dat's whar Grandpa keeps his rations,"
+she said, and then volunteered the information: "He's gone next door to
+stay wid Ma, whilst I clean up his house. He can't stand no dust, and
+when I sweeps, I raises a dust." The girl explained a 12 inch square
+aperture in the door, with a sliding board fastened on the inside by
+saying: "Dat's Grandpa's peep-hole. He allus has to see who's dar 'fore
+he unfastens his door."
+
+Robert was sitting on the back porch and his daughter was ironing just
+inside the door. Both seemed surprised and happy to see the interviewer
+and the daughter placed a comfortable chair for her as far as the
+dimensions of the small porch would permit from the heat of the charcoal
+bucket and irons. Remembering that his earlier recollections had ended
+with the close of the Civil War, Robert started telling about the days
+"atter freedom had done come."
+
+"Me, I stayed right on dar 'til atter Marster died. He was sick a long,
+long time, and one morning Old Mist'ess, she called to me. 'Robert,' she
+said, 'you ain't gwine to have no Marster long, 'cause he's 'bout gone.'
+I called all de Niggers up to de big house and when dey was all in de
+yard, Mist'ess, she said: 'Robert, you been wid us so long, you kin come
+in and see him 'fore he's gone for good.' When I got in dat room I
+knowed de Lord had done laid His hand on my good Old Marster, and he was
+a-goin' to dat Home he used to preach to us Niggers 'bout, and it
+'peared to me lak my heart would jus' bust. When de last breath was done
+gone, I went back out in de yard and told de other Niggers, and dere was
+sho' cryin' and prayin' 'mongst 'em, 'cause all of 'em loved Marster.
+Dat was sho' one big funeral. Mist'ess said she wanted all of Marster's
+old slaves to go, 'cause he loved 'em so, and all of us went. Some what
+had done been gone for years come back for Marster's funeral.
+
+"Next day, atter de funeral was over, Mist'ess, she said: 'Robert, I
+want you to stay on wid me 'cause you know how he wanted his wuk done.'
+Den Mist'ess' daughter and her husband, Mr. Dickenson, come dar to stay.
+None of de Niggers laked dat Mr. Dickenson and so most of 'em left and
+den, 'bout 2 years atter Marster died, Mist'ess went to 'Lanta (Atlanta)
+to stay wid another of her daughters, and she died dar. When Mist'ess
+left, I left too and come on here to Athens, and I been here ever since.
+
+"Dere warn't much town here den, and 'most all 'round dis here place was
+woods. I wuked 'bout a year for Mr. John McCune's fambly on de old
+Pitner place, den I went to wuk for Mr. Manassas B. McGinty. He was a
+cyarpenter and built most of de fine houses what was put up here dem
+days. I got de lumber from him to build my house. Dere warn't but two
+other houses 'round here den. My wife, Julie, washed for de white folks
+and helped 'em do deir housewuk. Our chillun used to come bring my
+dinner. Us had dem good old red peas cooked wid side meat in a pot in de
+fireplace, and ashcake to go wid 'em. Dat was eatin's. Julie would rake
+out dem coals and kivver 'em wid ashes, and den she would wrop a pone of
+cornbread dough in collard or cabbage leaves and put it on dem ashes and
+rake more ashes over it. You had to dust off de bread 'fore you et it,
+but ashcake was mighty good, folks what lived off of it didn't git sick
+lak dey does now a-eatin' dis white flour bread all de time. If us had
+any peas left from dinner and supper, Julie would mash 'em up right
+soft, make little cakes what she rolled in corn meal, and fry 'em for
+breakfast. Dem sausage cakes made out of left-over peas was mighty fine
+for breakfast.
+
+"When de chillun started out wid my dinner, Julie allus made two of 'em
+go together and hold hands all de way so dey wouldn't git lost. Now,
+little chillun jus' a few years old goes anywhar dey wants to. Folks
+don't look atter dey chillun lak dey ought to, and t'ain't right. Den,
+when night come, chillun went right off to bed. Now, dey jus' runs
+'round 'most all night, and it sho' is a-ruinin' dis young genrayshun
+(generation). Dey don't take no keer of deirselfs. My own grandchillun
+is de same way.
+
+"I left Mr. McGinty and went to wuk for Mr. Bloomfield in de mill. Mr.
+Bill Dootson was our boss, and he was sho' a good man. Dem was good
+times. I wuked inside de mill and 'round de yard too, and sometimes dey
+sont me to ride de boat wid de cotton or sometimes wid cloth, whatever
+dey was sendin'. Dere was two mills den. One was down below de bridge on
+Oconee Street, and de old check factory was t'other side of de bridge on
+Broad Street. Dey used boats to carry de cotton and de cloth from one
+mill to de other.
+
+"Missy, can you b'lieve it? I wuked for 68¢ a day and us paid for our
+home here. Dey paid us off wid tickets what us tuk to de commissary to
+git what us needed. Dey kept jus' evvything dat anybody could want down
+dar at de comp'ny store. So us raised our nine chillun, give 'em plenty
+to eat and wear too and a good roof over deir haids, all on 68¢ a day
+and what Julie could make wukin' for de white folks. 'Course things
+warn't high-priced lak dey is now, but de main diff'unce is dat folks
+didn't have to have so many kinds of things to eat and wear den lak dey
+does now. Dere warn't nigh so many ways to throw money 'way den.
+
+"Dere warn't so many places to go; jus' church and church spreads, and
+Sundays, folks went buggy ridin'. De young Niggers, 'specially dem what
+was a-sparkin', used to rent buggies and hosses from Mr. Selig
+Bernstein. He kept a big livery stable den and he had a hoss named
+Buckskin. Dat was de hoss what evvybody wanted 'cause he was so gentle
+and didn't skeer de 'omans and chilluns. Mr. Bernstein is a-livin' yit,
+and he is sho' a good man to do business wid. Missy, dere was lots of
+good white folks den. Most of dem old ones is done passed on. One of de
+best of 'em was Mr. Robert Chappell. He done passed on, but whilst he
+lived he was mighty good to evvybody and de colored folks sho' does miss
+him. He b'lieved in helpin' 'em and he give 'em several churches and
+tried his best to git 'em to live right. If Mr. Robert Chappell ain't in
+Heb'en, dere ain't no use for nobody else to try to git dar. His
+granddaughter married Jedge Matthews, and folks says she is most as good
+as her granddaddy was."
+
+Robert chuckled when he was asked to tell about his wedding. "Miss," he
+said, "I didn't have no sho' 'nough weddin'. Me and Julie jus' jumped
+over de broom in front of Marster and us was married. Dat was all dere
+was to it. Dat was de way most of de slave folks got married dem days.
+Us knowed better dan to ax de gal when us wanted to git married. Us jus'
+told our Marster and he done de axin'. Den, if it was all right wid de
+gal, Marster called all de other Niggers up to de big house to see us
+jump over de broom. If a slave wanted to git married to somebody on
+another place, den he told Marster and his Marster would talk to de
+gal's Marster. Whatever dey 'greed on was all right. If neither one of
+'em would sell one of de slaves what wanted to git married, den dey let
+'em go ahead and jump over de broom, and de man jus' visited his wife on
+her Marster's place, mostly on Wednesday and Sadday nights. If it was a
+long piece off, he didn't git dar so often. Dey had to have passes den,
+'cause de patterollers would git 'em sho' if dey didn't. Dat meant a
+thrashin', and dey didn't miss layin' on de stick, when dey cotch a
+Nigger.
+
+"Dese days, de boys and gals jus' walks off and don't say nothin' to
+nobody, not even to dey mammies and daddies. [TR: written in margin:
+"Elopement"] Now take dis daughter of mine--Callie is her name--she
+runned away when she was 'bout seventeen. Dat day her mammy had done
+sont her wid de white folks' clothes. She had on brass-toed brogan
+shoes, a old faded cotton dress dat was plum up to her knees,--dem days,
+long dresses was stylish--and she wore a old bonnet. She was totin' de
+clothes to Mrs. Reese and met up wid dat Davenport boy. Dey traips'd up
+to de courthouse, got a license, and was married 'fore me and Julie
+knowed nothin' 'bout it. Julie sho' did light out from hyar to go git
+Callie. She brung her back and kept her locked up in de house a long
+time 'fore she would let her live wid dat Nigger.
+
+"Us had our troubles den, but dey warn't lak de troubles us has now.
+Now, it seems lak dem was mighty good days back when Arch Street was
+jus' a path through de woods. Julie, she's done been gone a long time,
+and all of our chillun's daid 'cept three, and two of 'em is done gone
+up north. Jus' me and my Callie and de grandchillun is all dat's left
+here. Soon I'se gwine to be 'lowed to go whar Julie is and I'se ready
+any time, 'cause I done been here long 'nough."
+
+When the visitor arose to take her departure Robert said: "Good-bye
+Missy, come back to see me and Callie again 'cause us laked your
+'pearments (appearance) de fust time you was here. Jus' trust in de
+Lord, Miss, and He will take keer of you wharever you is."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE, AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE
+
+TOM SINGLETON, Ex-Slave, Age 94
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sadie B. Hornsby
+Research Worker
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+Leila Harris
+Editor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: APR 27 1938]
+
+
+Uncle Tom lives alone in a one room cabin, about two and one half miles
+from town, on Loop-de-Loop road, not far from the Brooklyn section of
+Athens. He states that he lives alone because: "I wuz raised right and
+de Niggers dis day and time ain't had no raisin'. I just can't be
+bothered wid havin' 'em 'round me all de time. Dey ain't my sort of
+folkses." Uncle Tom says he will be 94 years old on May 15th of this
+year, but many believe that he is much older.
+
+When asked if he felt like talking about his experiences and observances
+while he was a slave, he said: "I don't know, Missie; I got a pow'ful
+hurtin' in my chest, and I'm too old to 'member much, but you ax me what
+you want to know and I'll try to tell you. I wuz born in Lumpkin County
+on Marster Joe Singleton's place. My ma wuz named Nancy Early, and she
+belonged to Marster Joe Early what lived in Jackson County. My pa's name
+wuz Joe Singleton. I don't 'member much 'bout my brothers and sisters.
+Ma and Pa had 14 chillun. Some of deir boys wuz me and Isaac, Jeff,
+Moses, and Jack; and deir gals wuz: Celia, Laura, Dilsey, Patsey,
+Frankie, and Elinor. Dese wuz de youngest chillun. I don't 'member de
+fust ones. I don't ricollect nothin' t'all 'bout my grandma and grandpa,
+cause us wuz too busy to talk in de daytime, and at night us wuz so
+whupped out from hard wuk us just went off to sleep early and never
+talked much at no time. All I knows 'bout 'em is dat I heared folkses
+say my gran'pa wuz 107 years old when he died. Folkses don't live dat
+long now-a-days.
+
+"De slave quarters wuz in rows and had two rooms and a shed. Dey had
+beds made out of poles fastened together wid pegs and 'cross 'em wuz
+laid de slats what dey spread de wheat straw on. Us had good kivver
+'cause our Marster wuz a rich man and he believed in takin' keer of his
+Niggers. Some put sheets dat wuz white as snow over de straw. Dem sheets
+wuz biled wid home-made soap what kept 'em white lak dat. Udder folkses
+put quilts over de straw. At de end of de slave quarters wuz de barns
+and cow sheds, and a little beyond dem wuz de finest pasture you ever
+seed wid clear water a-bubblin' out of a pretty spring, and runnin'
+thoo' it. Dar's whar dey turned de stock to graze when dey warn't
+wukkin' 'em."
+
+When Tom was asked if he ever made any money, a mischievous smile
+illumined his face. "Yes ma'am, you see I plowed durin' de day on old
+Marster's farm. Some of de white folks what didn't have many Niggers
+would ax old Marster to let us help on dey places. Us had to do dat wuk
+at night. On bright moonshiny nights, I would cut wood, fix fences, and
+sich lak for 'em. Wid de money dey paid me I bought Sunday shoes and a
+Sunday coat and sich lak, cause I wuz a Nigger what always did lak to
+look good on Sunday.
+
+"Yes ma'am, us had good clo'es de year 'round. Our summer clothes wuz
+white, white as snow. Old Marster said dey looked lak linen. In winter
+us wore heavy yarn what de women made on de looms. One strand wuz wool
+and one wuz cotton. Us wore our brogan shoes evvy day and Sunday too.
+Marster wuz a merchant and bought shoes from de tanyard. Howsomever, he
+had a colored man on his place what could make any kind of shoes.
+
+"Lawdy! Missie, us had evvythin' to eat; all kinds of greens, turnips,
+peas, 'tatoes, meat and chickens. Us wuz plumb fools 'bout fried chicken
+and chicken stew, so Marster 'lowed us to raise plenty of chickens, and
+sometimes at night us Niggers would git together and have a hee old
+time. No Ma'am, us didn't have no gyardens. Us didn't need none. Old
+Marster give us all de vittuls us wanted. Missie, you oughta seed dem
+big old iron spiders what dey cooked in. 'Course de white folkses called
+'em ovens. De biscuits and blackberry pies dey cooked in spiders, dey
+wuz somethin' else. Oh! don't talk 'bout dem 'possums! Makes me hongry
+just to think 'bout 'em. One night when pa and me went 'possum huntin',
+I put a 'possum what us cotched in a sack and flung it 'cross my back.
+Atter us started home dat 'possum chewed a hole in de sack and bit me
+square in de back. I 'member my pa had a little dog." Here he stopped
+talking and called a little black and white dog to him, and said: "He
+wuz 'bout de size of dis here dog, and pa said he could natchelly
+jus' make a 'possum de way he always found one so quick when us
+went huntin'." The old man sighed, and looking out across the field,
+continued: "Atter slav'ry days, Niggers turned dey chilluns loose,
+an' den de 'possums an' rabbits most all left, and dere ain't so many
+fishes left in de rivers neither."
+
+Tom could not recall much about his first master: "I wuz four year old
+when Marster Dr. Joe Singleton died. All I 'members 'bout him; he wuz a
+big man, and I sho' wuz skeered of him. When he cotch us in de branch,
+he would holler at us and say: 'Come out of dar 'fore you git sick.' He
+didn't 'low us to play in no water, and when, he hollered, us lit a rag.
+Dere wuz 'bout a thousand acres in Marse Joe's plantation, he owned a
+gold mine and a copper mine too. Old Marster owned 'bout 65 Niggers in
+all. He bought an' sold Niggers too. When Old Marster wanted to send
+news, he put a Nigger on a mule an' sont de message.
+
+"Atter Marse Joe died, old Mist'ess run de farm 'bout six years.
+Mist'ess' daughter, Miss Mattie, married Marster Fred Lucas, an' old
+Mist'ess sold her share in de plantation den. My pa, my sister, an' me
+wuz sold on de block at de sheriff's sale. Durin' de sale my sister
+cried all de time, an' Pa rubbed his han' over her head an' face, an' he
+said: 'Don't cry, you is gwine live wid young Miss Mattie.' I didn't cry
+none, 'cause I didn't care. Marse Fred bought us, an' tuk us to Athens
+to live, an' old Mist'ess went to live wid her chilluns.
+
+"Marse Fred didn't have a very big plantation; jus' 'bout 70 or 80 acres
+I guess, an' he had 'bout 25 Niggers. He didn't have no overseer. My pa
+wuz de one in charge, an' he tuk his orders from Marse Fred, den he went
+out to de farm, whar he seed dat de Niggers carried 'em out. Pa wuz de
+carriage driver too. It wuz his delight to drive for Marster and
+Mist'ess.
+
+"Marster and Mist'ess had eight chillun: Miss Mattie, Miss Mary, Miss
+Fannie, Miss Senie, Mr. Dave, Mr. Joe, Mr. Frank and Mr. Freddy. Dey
+lived in a big house, weather-boarded over logs, an' de inside wuz
+ceiled.
+
+"Marster an' Mist'ess sho' wuz good to us Niggers. Us warn't beat much.
+De onliest Nigger I 'member dey whupped wuz Cicero. He wuz a bad boy. My
+Marster never did whup me but onct. Mist'ess sont me up town to fetch
+her a spool of thread. I got to playin' marbles an' 'fore I knowed it,
+it wuz dinner time. When I got home, Mist'ess wuz mad sno' 'nough.
+Marster cotch me an' wore me out, but Mist'ess never touched me. I seed
+Niggers in de big jail at Watkinsville an' in de calaboose in Athens.
+Yes Ma'am! I seed plenty of Niggers sold on de block in Watkinsville. I
+ricollects de price of one Nigger run up to $15,000. All de sellin' wuz
+done by de sheriffs an' de slave Marsters.
+
+"Marster Fred Lucas sold his place whar he wuz livin' in town to Major
+Cook, an' moved to his farm near Princeton Factory. Atter Major Cook got
+kilt in de War, Marse Fred come back to town an' lived in his house
+again.
+
+"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for Niggers in slav'ry time. Mist'ess'
+daughters went to Lucy Cobb. Celia, my sister, wuz deir nurse, an' when
+all our little missies got grown, Celia wuz de house gal. So when our
+little missies went to school dey come home an' larnt Celia how to read
+an' write. 'Bout two years atter freedom, she begun to teach school
+herself.
+
+"Us had our own churches in town, an' de white folkses furnished our
+preachers. Once dey baptised 75 in de river below de Check Factory;
+white folkses fust, and Niggers last.
+
+"Oh! dem patterrollers! Dey wuz rough mens. I heared 'em say dey would
+beat de stuffin' out of you, if dey cotch you widout no pass.
+
+"Yes Ma'am! dar always wuz a little trouble twixt de white folkses an'
+Niggers; always a little. Heaps of de Niggers went Nawth. I wuz told
+some white men's livin' in town hyar helped 'em git away. My wife had
+six of 'er kinfolkses what got clean back to Africa, an' dey wrote back
+here from dar.
+
+"Us had parties an' dances at night. Sometimes Mist'ess let Celia wear
+some of de little missies' clo'es, 'cause she wanted her to outshine de
+other Nigger gals. Dey give us a week at Christmas time, an' Christmas
+day wuz a big day. Dey give us most evvythin': a knot of candy as big as
+my fist, an' heaps of other good things. At corn shuckin's Old Marster
+fotched a gallon keg of whiskey to de quarters an' passed it 'round.
+Some just got tipsy an' some got low down drunk. De onliest cotton
+pickin' us knowed 'bout wuz when us picked in de daytime, an' dey warn't
+no good time to dat. A Nigger can't even sing much wid his head all bent
+down pickin' cotton.
+
+"Folkses had fine times at weddin's dem days. Dar wuz more vittuls dan
+us could eat. Now dey just han' out a little somethin'. De white folkses
+had a fine time too. Dey let de Niggers git married in deir houses. If
+it wuz bad weather, den de weddin' wuz most genully in de hall, but if
+it wuz a pretty day, dey married in de yard.
+
+"I can't 'member much 'bout de games us played or de songs us sung. A
+few of de games wuz marbles, football, an' town ball. 'Bout dem witches,
+I don't know nothin'. Some of de folkses wore a mole foot 'roun' dey
+neck to keep bad luck away: some wore a rabbit's foot fer sharpness, an'
+it sholy did fetch sharpness. I don't know nothin' 'tall 'bout Rawhead
+and Bloody Bones, but I heared tell he got atter Mist'ess' chillun an'
+made 'em be good. Dey wuz pow'ful skeert of 'im.
+
+"Old Marster an' Mist'ess looked atter deir Niggers mighty well. When
+dey got sick, de doctor wuz sont for straight away. Yes Ma'am, dey
+looked atter 'em mighty well. Holly leaves an' holly root biled together
+wuz good for indigestion, an' blackgum an' blackhaw roots biled together
+an' strained out an' mixed wid whiskey wuz good for diffunt mis'ries.
+Some of de Niggers wore little tar sacks 'roun' dey necks to keep de
+fever 'way.
+
+"Yes Ma'am.' I wuz in de War 'bout two years, wid young Marster Joe
+Lucas. I waited on him, cooked for him, an' went on de scout march wid
+him, for to tote his gun, an' see atter his needs. I wuz a bugger in dem
+days!
+
+"I 'members I wuz standin' on de corner of Jackson Street when dey said
+freedom had come. Dat sho' wuz a rally day for de Niggers. 'Bout a
+thousand in all wuz standin' 'roun' here in Athens dat day. Yes Ma'am,
+de fust time de yankees come thoo' dey robbed an' stole all dey could
+find an' went on to Monroe. Next to come wuz de gyards to take charge of
+de town, an' dey wuz s'posed to set things to goin' right.
+
+"Atter de War I stayed on wid Marse Fred, an' wukked for wages for six
+years, an' den farmed on halves wid him. Some of de Niggers went on a
+buyin' spree, an' dey bought land, hand over fist. Some bought eight an'
+nine hundred acres at a time."
+
+When asked to tell about his wedding, a merry twinkle shone in his eyes:
+"Lawdy, Missie, dis ole Nigger nebber married 'til long atter de War. Us
+sho' did cut up jack. Us wuz too old to have any chillun, but us wuz so
+gay, us went to evvy dance 'til 'bout six years ago. She died den, an'
+lef' me all by myse'f.
+
+"Dat Mr. Abyham Lincoln wuz a reg'lar Nigger god. Us b'lieved dat Mr.
+Jeff. Davis wuz all right too. Booker Washin'ton give a speech here
+onct, an' I wuz dar, but de Niggers made sich a fuss over him I couldn't
+take in what he said."
+
+Asked what he thinks about slavery, now that it is over, he replied: "I
+think it is all right. God intended it. De white folks run de Injuns
+out, but dey is comin' back for sho'. God said every nation shall go to
+deir own land 'fore de end.
+
+"I just jined de church right lately. I had cut de buck when I wuz a
+young chap, and God has promised us two places, heb'en an' hell. I
+thinks it would be scand'lous for anybody to go to hell, so I 'cided to
+jine up wid de crowd goin' to heb'en."
+
+After the interview, he called to a little Negro boy that had wandered
+into the house: "Moses! gimme a drink of water! Fotch me a chaw of
+'bacco, Missie done tuck me up de crick, down de branch, now she's a
+gwine 'roun'. Hurry! boy, do as I say, gimme dat water. Nigger chillun,
+dis day an' time, is too lazy to earn deir bread. I wuz sorry to see you
+come, Missie 'cause my chest wuz a hurtin' so bad, but now I'se sorry to
+see you go." Out of breath, he was silent for a moment, then grinned and
+said: "I wuz just lookin' at de Injun on dis here nickle, you done
+gimme. He looks so happy! Good-bye, Missie, hurry an' come back! You
+helped dis old Nigger lots, but my chest sho' do hurt."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex slave 100]
+
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-search Worker
+
+CHARLIE TYE SMITH, Ex-slave
+East Solomon Avenue,
+Griffin, Georgia
+
+September 16, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Charlie Tye Smith was born in Henry County, near Locust Grove, Georgia,
+on June 10, 1850 (as nearly as he can tell). His mother kept his age for
+him and had him tell it to her over and over when he was a little boy.
+The old fellow is well and rather alert, despite his eighty-six years.
+
+Mr. Jim Smith, of Henry County, was Charlie's owner and according to
+Charlie's version, "sho wuz a mighty good Marster". Mr. Smith owned a
+large plantation, and also "around one hundred and fifty, to two hundred
+Darkies". Charlie recalls that the slaves were well treated, seldom
+"whupped", and never "onmercifully". "Ole Miss", too, [HW: was]
+"powerful good" to the darkies, most especially to the "Chillun."
+
+The old man related the following incident in proof of Miss Nancy's
+goodness. About every two weeks "ole Miss" would have "ole Uncle Jim"
+bake "a whole passel of ginger cakes and tote 'em down to the cabins and
+jest pitch 'em out by de handfuls to de chillun!" The old man smiled
+broadly as he concluded the ginger cake story and said, "Charlie allus
+got his share. Miss Nancy seed to that, kase I wuz one of ole Miss's
+best little darkies". The interviewer inquired as to how so many ginger
+cakes could have been baked so easily, and he replied that "ole Marse"
+had a big rock-oven down at the spring about like what they boil syrup
+cane juice in today.
+
+The slaves on "Marse Jim's" place were allowed about four holidays a
+year, and a week at Christmas, to frolic. The amusements were dancing
+("the break-down"), banjo playing, and quill blowing. Sometimes when the
+"patarol" was in a good humor, he would take about twenty-five or thirty
+"Niggers" and go fishing at night. This kind of fishing was mostly
+seining, and usually "they got plenty o' fish".
+
+Charlie, true to his race, is quite superstitious and on many occasions
+"went into the cow lot on Christmas night and found the cows down on
+their knees 'a-lowin". He also witnessed the "sun shoutin" on Christmas
+morning and "made sho" to get up jest in time to see the sun as it first
+"showed itself." Here Charlie did some very special gesticulating to
+illustrate.
+
+The Negroes were required to go to Church on Sunday. They called it
+"gwine to meetin'", often leaving at sun up and walking ten or twelve
+miles to the meeting house, staying all day and late into the night.
+
+If "ole Marse" happened to be in a good humor on Sunday, he would let
+the Darkies use the "waggins" and mules. The little "Niggers" never went
+to meetin' as they were left at home to take care of the house and
+"nuss" the babies. There were no Sunday Schools in those days. When the
+grown folks got back late in the night, they often "had to do some tall
+knocking and banging to get in the house--'cause the chillun were so
+dead asleep, and layin' all over the floor".
+
+When asked if the slaves wouldn't be awfully tired and sleepy the next
+morning after they stayed up so late, he replied that they were "sho
+tired" but they had better turn out at four o'clock when ole Marse
+"blowed the horn!" They [TR: then?] he added with a chuckle, "the
+field was usually strowed with Niggers asleep in the cotton rows when
+they knocked off for dinner".
+
+"No, Miss, the Marster never give us no money (here he laughed), for we
+didn't need none. There wasn't nothing to buy, and we had plenty to eat
+and wear".
+
+"Yes, Mr. Jim and Miss Nancy believed in whuppin' and kep the raw hide
+hanging by the back door, but none o' Mr. Jim's Niggers evah got beat
+till dey bled".
+
+Charlie Tye recalls vividly when the Yankees passed through and
+graphically related the following incident. "The Yankees passed through
+and caught "ole Marse" Jim and made him pull off his boots and run
+bare-footed through a cane brake with half a bushel of potatoes tied
+around his neck; then they made him put his boots back on and carried
+him down to the mill and tied him to the water post. They were getting
+ready to break his neck when one of Master's slaves, "ole Peter Smith",
+asked them if they intended to kill "Marse Jim", and when they said
+"Yes", Peter choked up and said, "Well, please, suh, let me die wid ole
+Marse! Well, dem Yankees let ole Marse loose and left! Yes, Missy, dat's
+de truf 'case I've heered my daddy tell it many's the time!"
+
+Charlie is not working at all now as he is too old and is supported by
+the Griffin Relief Association. For forty-five years he served as
+janitor in the various public schools of Griffin.
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE, AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE
+
+GEORGIA SMITH, Age 87
+286 Augusta Ave.
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Miss Grace McCune
+Research Worker
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Editor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+WPA Residency No. 6
+April 6, 1938
+
+
+The cold, rainy, and altogether disagreeable weather on the outside was
+soon forgotten when the interviewer was admitted to the neat little home
+of Aunt Georgia Smith and found the old woman enjoying the cheerful
+warmth of her blazing fire.
+
+Aunt Georgia appeared to be quite feeble. She was not only willing, but
+eager to talk of her experiences, and explained that her slow and rather
+indistinct articulation is one of the several bad after effects of her
+recent stroke of paralysis.
+
+"My pappy was Blackstone Smith, and he b'longed to Marse Jeb Smith. My
+mammy was Nancy Chappell, owned by Mistus Peggie Chappell.
+
+"I stayed wid my mammy on Mistus Chappell's plantation in Oglethorpe
+County, near old Antioch Church. W'en I was 'bout five or six years ole
+my mammy died. Den my pappy done come an' got me, an' I was to stay wid
+'im on Marster Smith's place. Dey was good to me dar, but I warn't
+satisfied, an' I cried for Old Mistus.
+
+"I'd jes' go 'roun' snifflin', an' not eatin' nuffin', an' one day w'en
+us was pickin' peaches, Marster Smith tole my pappy he better take dat
+chile back to her old mistus, 'fo' she done git sick fer sho'.
+
+"Hit was de next day w'en dey ax me did I want to see Old Mistus an' I
+jes' cry an' say, 'yassum.' Den Marster say: 'Blackstone, hitch a mule
+to dat wagon, an' take dat chile right back to her Old Mistus.' I tell
+'em I can walk, but dey made me ride in de wagon, an' I sho' was glad I
+was goin' back home.
+
+"I seed Old Mistus 'fo' I got dar, an' jumped out of de wagon an' run to
+'er. W'en she seed me, she jes' grabbed me, an' I thought she was a
+laughin', but when I seed dat she was cryin', I tole 'er not to cry, dat
+I warn't goin' to leave 'er no mo'.
+
+"Mistus sho' was good to me, but she was good to all 'er niggers, an'
+dey all loved 'er. Us allus had plenny of evvything, she made us wear
+plenny of good warm clo'es, an' us wo'e flannel petticoats when hit was
+cole weather. Chillun don't wear 'nuff clo'es dese days to keep 'em
+warm, an nuffin' on deir legs. Hits a wonder dey doan' freeze.
+
+"I diden' stay at de quarters with de udder niggers. Mistus kep' me in
+de big 'ouse wid 'er, an' I slep' on a cotton mattress on de floor by de
+side of 'er bed. She had a stick dat she used to punch me wid w'en she
+wannid somepin' in de night, an' effen I was hard to wake, she sho'
+could punch wid dat stick.
+
+"Mistus diden' ever have us niggers whipped 'lessen it jes' had to be
+done. An' if us chilluns was bad, fussin' an' fightin', Mistus would git
+'er a stick, but us would jes' run an' hide, an' Mistus would forgit all
+'bout it in jes' a little w'ile.
+
+"Marster was dead, an' us had a overseer, but he was good to us jes'
+lak' Mistus was. Hit was a big old plantation, wid lots of niggers. W'en
+de overseer would try to larn de chilluns to plow an' dey diden' want to
+larn, dey would jes' play 'roun'. Sometimes dey snuck off to de udder
+side of de fiel' an' hunnid for lizards. Dey would hold a lizard's head
+wid a stick, an' spit 'bacco juice in 'is mouf an' turn 'im loose. De
+'bacco juice would make de lizard drunk, and he would run 'roun' an'
+'roun'. Dey would cotch snakes, kill dem an' hang de skins on trees so
+hit would rain an' dey wouldn't have to wuk in de fiel'.
+
+"De quarters was built away f'um de big 'ouse. Dey was cabins made of
+logs an' dey all had dey own gardens whar dey raised all kinds of
+vegetables an' allus had plenny of hog meat. De cookin' was done on a
+big fireplace an' in brick ovens. 'Taters was baked in de ashes, an' dey
+sho' was good.
+
+"Dey had big times huntin' an' fishin' w'en de wuk was over. Dey cotch
+lots of 'possums, an' had big 'possum suppers. De 'possums was roasted
+with plenny of 'taters, butter an' red pepper. Us would eat an' dance
+most of de night w'en us had a 'possum supper.
+
+"De rabbits was so bad in de gardens dat dey tuk white rags an' tied 'em
+on sticks stuck up in de ground. Rabbits woulden' come 'roun' den, cyaze
+dey was 'fraid of dem white rags flyin' on de sticks.
+
+"Mistus b'lieved in lookin' atter her niggers w'en dey was sick. She
+would give 'em medicine at home. Candy an' tea, made wid ho'e houn' an'
+butterfly root tea was good for worms; dewberry wine, lak'wise dewberry
+root tea was good for de stomach ache; samson snake root an' poplar bark
+tea was good medicine for coles an' so'e th'oats, an' w'en you was in
+pain, de red pepper bag would sho' help lots sometimes. If de homemade
+medicine diden' cyore 'em, den Mistus sont for de doctor.
+
+"Slaves went to de white folkses chu'ch an' sot up in de gallery. Dey
+stayed all day at chu'ch, an' had big dinners on de groun'. Dem was sho'
+'nough good dinners. Us had big times on meetin' days.
+
+"Our slaves had prayer meetin' twict a week in deir quarters, 'til dey
+got 'roun' to all de cabins den dey would start over again. Dey prayed
+an' sung all de old songs, and some of 'em as I 'member are: 'Roll
+Jordan Roll,'--'Better Mind How you Step on de Cross,'--'Cause You Ain'
+Gon 'er be Here Long,'--'Tell de Story Bye an' Bye,'--'All God's
+Chilluns are a Gatherin' Home,' an' 'We'll Understand Better Bye an'
+Bye.' Dey really could sing dem old songs. Mistus would let me go to dem
+cabin prayer meetin's an' I sho' did enjoy 'em.
+
+"W'en slaves died dey jes' tuk 'em off an buried 'em. I doan' 'member
+'em ever havin' a funeral, 'til way atter freedom done come an' niggers
+got dey own chu'ches.
+
+"I 'member one night dey had a quiltin' in de quarters. De quilt was up
+in de frame, an' dey was all jes' quiltin' an' singin', 'All God's
+Chilluns are a Gatherin' Home,' w'en a drunk man wannid to preach, an'
+he jumped up on de quilt. Hit all fell down on de flo', an' dey all got
+fightin' mad at 'im. Dey locked 'im in de smokehouse 'til mornin', but
+dey diden' nobody tell Mistus nuffin' 'bout it.
+
+"Us chilluns had to pick peas; two baskets full 'fo' dinner an' two 'fo'
+night, an' dey was big baskets too. I 'member dere was a white widow
+'oman what lived near our place, an' she had two boys. Mistus let dem
+boys pick 'em some peas w'en us would be pickin', an' us would run 'em
+off, cause us diden' lak' po' white trash. But Mistus made us let 'em
+pick all dey wannid.
+
+"I was 'bout twelve years old w'en freedom come, an' was big 'nough to
+wait on Mistus good den. I 'member how I used to run to de spring wid a
+little tin bucket w'en she wannid a fresh drink of water.
+
+"Mos' of de slaves stayed with Mistus atter freedom come, 'cause dey all
+loved her, an' dey diden' have no place to go. Mistus fed 'em jes' lak'
+she had allus done and paid 'em a little money too. Us diden' never have
+no fussin' an' fightin' on our place, an' de Ku Klux Klan never come
+'roun' dar, but de niggers had to have a ticket if dey lef' de place on
+Sunday. Dat was so de paddyrollers woulden' whip 'em if dey cotch 'em.
+
+"All de niggers on de udder places, called us free niggers long 'fo'
+freedom come, 'cause we diden' have no whippin' post, an' if any of us
+jes' had to be whipped, Mistus would see dat dey warn't beat bad 'nough
+to leave no stripes.
+
+"My pappy left de old Smith plantation, soon atter he got 'is freedom,
+an' went to Augusta, Georgia whar he died in jes' 'bout two years.
+
+"I waked up one mornin' an' heered Mistus makin' a funny fuss. She was
+tryin' to git up an' pullin' at her gown. I was plum skeert an' I runned
+atter some of de udder folkses. Dey come a runnin' but she never did
+speak no mo', an' diden' live but jes' a few hours longer. De white
+folkses made me go to 'er funeral. Dere sho' was a big crowd of folkses
+dar, 'cause evvybody loved Mistus; she was so good to evvybody. Dey
+diden' preach long, mos'ly jes' prayed an' sung Mistus' favorite songs:
+'All God's Chillun are a Gatherin' Home,' and', 'We'll Understand Bye
+an' Bye.'
+
+"I lef' de old place not long atter Mistus died, 'cause hit was too
+lonesome dar an' I missed her so much, I come to town an' jes' wukked
+for white folkses. I doan' 'member all of 'em. But I cain' wuk no mo'
+now, an' hit woan' be so long 'til I see my old Mistus again, an' den I
+can still wait on her, an' we woan' have to part no mo'."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 2
+Ex Slave 101]
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:
+MARY SMITH
+910 Spruce Street
+Augusta, Georgia
+(Richmond County)
+
+BY: (Mrs.) Margaret Johnson
+Editor
+Fed. Writer's Proj.
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Such a hovel, such squalor it would be hard to imagine. Only first hand
+observation could be a reliable witness to such conditions.
+
+Into a tiny room was squeezed a double and a single bed with a
+passage-way barely wide enough to walk between the two beds. The door
+from the small porch could be opened only enough to allow one to enter,
+as the head on the single bed was against it. A small fire burned in the
+open fire place. An old man, ragged but respectful, and two old women
+were sitting in the room, one on a broken chair, the other on an empty
+nail keg. As we entered the room one of the old women got up, took a
+badly clipped and handleless teacup from the hearth and offered it to a
+girl lying in the single bed, in a smother of dirty quilts.
+
+Mary was a squat figure, her head tied up in a dirty towel, her dress
+ragged and dirty, and much too small for her abundant figure. She
+welcomed us telling us the "po chile was bad sick" but she would talk to
+us. As the door of the lean-to kitchen was open, it offered a breath of
+outside air, even though polluted with the garbage scattered on the
+ground, and the odors from chickens, cats and dogs meandering about.
+
+Mary's round face was unwrinkled, but the wisps of wool showing beneath
+her "head rag" were grey, and her eyes were rheumy with age. She was
+entirely toothless and her large tongue rolled ceaselessly in her mouth,
+chewing nothing.
+
+Her articulation necessarily was very poor. "I wus seven yeres old when
+Freedum cum. My ma and pa belonged to Mr. McNorrell of Burke County.
+Miss Sally was a good lady and kind to evebody. My marster was a good
+man cuz he was a preacher, I never member him whuppin' anybody. I
+'members slavry, yes mam, I 'members all the slaves' meals wus cooked in
+de yard, in big pots hung up on hooks on a iron bar. The fust wurk I
+ever done wus to push fire wood under dem pots. Mostly I stayed home and
+minded de baby. My ma uster pin a piece of fat back on my dres' before
+she went to de fiel' and when de baby cry I tek him up and let 'em suck
+'em. My brudder you see sittin' in dere, he de baby I uster mine. My pa
+wuz the blacksmith on the plantashun, and he mek all de plows and tings
+like dat. My ma tek me to de fiel when I wuz 'bout sever yeres ole and
+teach me to chop cotton, I don't member what happen when freedom come,
+tings wuz 'bout de same, fur as we chillun knowed."
+
+
+
+
+Elizabeth Watson
+M.G. 7/15/37
+
+MELVIN SMITH, Ex-Slave, 96 Years
+[Date Stamp: JUL 28 1937]
+
+
+"Yes'm, I show does 'member all 'about my white folks an' th' war 'cause
+I was twenty-four year ole when th' war was over. I was born in 1841 an'
+that makes me 'bout eighty-seven now, don't it?"
+
+Old Melvin Smith sat back in his chair with a smile of satisfaction on
+his face. He was seated on the narrow porch of his little cabin with the
+bright sunshine beaming down upon him. But his blind eyes could not
+notice the glare from the sun. His wife and daughter appeared from
+around the corner of the house and took their places near him to hear
+again the story that they had heard many times before.
+
+"My white folks lived in Beaufort, South Ca'lina, an' that's whar I was
+born," Melvin continued. "My old Miss, I called her Miss Mary, took care
+of me 'till I was eight year old. Then she give me back to my ma. You
+see, it was this a-way. My ma an' pa was sold in Beaufort; I don't know
+whar they come from before that. When I was born Miss Mary took me in
+th' big house with her an' thar I stayed, jest like I told you, 'till I
+was eight. Old Miss jest wanted me to be in th' room with her an' I
+slep' on a pallet right near her bed. In the daytime I played in th'
+yard an' I pick up chips for old Miss. Then when I got most big enuff to
+work she give me back to my ma.
+
+"Then I live in a cabin like the rest of th' niggers. Th' quarters was
+stretched out in a line behind Marse Jim's house. Ever' nigger fam'ly
+had a house to theyselves. Me an' my pa an' ma, they names was Nancy an'
+Henry Smith, live in a cabin with my sisters. They names was Saphronia
+an' Annie. We had beds in them cabins made out of cypress. They looked
+jest like they do now. Ever'body cooked on th' fire place. They had pots
+an' boilers that hung over th' fire an' we put th' vittles in thar an'
+they cooked an' we et 'em. 'Course we never et so much in th' cabin
+'cause ever mornin' th' folks all went to th' field. Ma an' Pa was field
+hands an' I worked thar too when I got big enuff. Saphronia an' Annie,
+they worked to th' big house. All th' nigger chillun stayed all day with
+a woman that was hired to take care of them."
+
+When asked about the kind of food they ate, Melvin replied:
+
+"We had enuff for anybody. Th' vittles was cooked in great big pots over
+th' fire jest like they was cookin' for stock. Peas in this pot, greens
+in that one. Corn-bread was made up an' put back in th' husks an' cooked
+in th' ashes. They called that a ash cake. Well, when ever'thing was
+done th' vittles was poured in a trough an' we all et. We had spoons cut
+out of wood that we et with. Thar was a big lake on th' plantation whar
+we could fish an' they show was good when we had 'em for supper.
+Sometimes we go huntin' an' then we had possum an' squirrel to eat. Th'
+possums was best of all."
+
+Melvin was asked to tell something about his master's family.
+
+"Old Marster was name Jim Farrell an' his wife was Miss Mary. They had
+three chillun name Mary, Jim an' Martha. They live in a big white house
+sot off from th' road 'bout two an' a half mile from Beaufort. Marster
+was rich I reckon 'cause he had 'bout a sixteen horse farm an' a whole
+hoodle of niggers. If you measured 'em it would a-been several cowpens
+full. Heap of them niggers worked in Marster's house to wait on th'
+white folks. They had a heap of comp'ny so they had to have a heap of
+niggers. Marster was good to his niggers but he had a overseer that was
+a mean man. He beat th' niggers so bad that Marster showed him th' road
+an' told him to git. Then th' Boss an' his son looked after th' hands
+theyselves 'till they could git another one. That overseer's name was
+Jimmy.
+
+"Ever' mornin' at four clock th' overseer blowed a conchshell an' all us
+niggers knowed it was time to git up an' go to work. Sometimes he blowed
+a bugle that'd wake up the nation. Ever'body worked from sunup 'till
+sundown. If we didn't git up when we was s'posed to we got a beatin'.
+Marster'd make 'em beat the part that couldn't be bought." Melvin
+chuckled at his own sly way of saying that the slaves were whipped
+through their clothes.
+
+"In the summertime," he continued, "We wore shirts that come down to
+here." Melvin measured to his ankle. "In the wintertime we wore heavy
+jeans over them shirts an' brogan shoes. They made shoes on the
+plantation but mine was store-bought. Marster give us all the vittles
+an' clothes we needed. He was good to ever'body. I 'member all the po'
+white trash that lived near us. Marster all time send 'em meat an' bread
+an' help 'em with they crop. Some of 'em come from Goldsboro, North
+Ca'lina to git a crop whar we lived. They was so sorry they couldn't git
+no crop whar they come frum, so they moved near us. Sometimes they even
+come to see the niggers an' et with us. We went to see them, too, but we
+had more to eat than them. They was sorry folks."
+
+After a pause, Melvin asked:
+
+"Did you ever hear how the niggers was sold? They was put on a stage on
+the courthouse square an' sold kinder like they was stock. The prettiest
+one got the biggest bid. They said that they was a market in North
+Ca'lina but I never see'd it. The ones I saw was jest sold like I told
+you. Then they went home with they marsters. If they tried to run away
+they sont the hounds after them. Them dogs would sniff around an' first
+news you knowed they caught them niggers. Marster's niggers run away
+some but they always come back. They'd hear that they could have a
+better time up north so they think they try it. But they found out that
+they wasn't no easy way to live away from Marster. He always took 'em
+back, didn't beat 'em nor nothin'. I run away once myself but I never
+went nowhere." Melvin's long body shook with laughter as he thought of
+his prank. He shifted in his chair and then began:
+
+"I was 'bout sixteen an' I took a notion I was grown. So I got under the
+house right under Marster's dinin' room an' thar I stayed for three
+months. Nobody but the cook knowed whar I was. They was a hole cut in
+the floor so ever' day she lifted the lid an' give me something to eat.
+Ever' day I sneaked out an' got some water an' walked about a bit but I
+never let nobody see me. I jest got biggety like chillun does now. When
+I got ready to come out for good I went 'way round by the barn an' come
+up so nobody know whar I been. Ol' Miss was standin' in the yard an' she
+spy me an' say, 'Jim," she always call all us niggers Jim 'cause that
+was Marster's name. She say, "Jim, whar you been so long?' I say, 'I
+been to Mr. Jones's workin' but I don't like the way they treat me. You
+all treats me better over here so I come back home.' I say, 'You ain't
+gonna whip me is you, Miss?' Ol' Miss say, 'No, I ain't gonna whip you
+this time but if you do such a thing again I'm gonna use all the leather
+on this place on you." So I went on 'bout my business an' they never
+bothered me."
+
+Melvin was asked about the church he attended. To this he replied:
+
+"The niggers had a church in the bush arbor right thar on the place.
+Preacher Sam Bell come ever' Sunday mornin' at ten clock an' we sot thar
+an' listened to him 'till 'leven thirty. Then we tear home an' eat our
+dinner an' lie round till four-thirty. We'd go back to church an' stay
+'bout hour an' come home for supper. The preacher was the onliest one
+that could read the Bible. When a nigger joined the church he was
+baptized in the creek near the bush arbor." And in a low tone he began
+to speak the words of the old song though he became somewhat confused.
+
+  "Lord, remember all Thy dying groans,
+     And then remember me.
+   While others fought to win the prize
+     And sailed through bloody sea.
+
+  "Through many dangers, toils an' snares,
+     I have already come.
+   I once was lost but now am found,
+     Was blind but now I see."
+
+"I've knowed that song for a long time. I been a member of the church
+for sixty year."
+
+When asked about the war, Melvin became somewhat excited. He rose feebly
+to his feet and clasped his walking stick as if it were a gun.
+
+"I see'd the Yankee soldiers drill right thar in front of our house," he
+said. "They'd be marchin' 'long this way (Melvin stumblingly took a few
+steps across the porch) an' the cap'n say, 'Right' an' they turn back
+this here way." Melvin retraced his steps to illustrate his words.
+"Cap'n say, 'Aim' an' they aim." He lifted his stick and aimed. "Cap'n
+say, 'Fire' an' they fire. I see'd 'em most ever' day. Ol' Marster was a
+cap'n in our army. I hear big guns a-boomin' all a-time an' the sights I
+did see! Streets jest runnin' with blood jest like it was water. Here
+lay a man on this side with his legs shot off; on that thar side they
+was a man with his arms shot off. Some of them never had no head. It was
+a terrible sight. I wasn't scared 'cause I knowed they wouldn't hurt me.
+Them Yankees never bothered nothin' we had. I hear some folks say that
+they stole they vittles but they never bothered ours 'cause they had
+plenty of they own. After the war Marster called us together an' say,
+'You is free an' can go if you want to' an' I left, so that's all I
+know."
+
+A few days later a second visit was made to Melvin. This time he was on
+the inside of his little cabin and was all alone. He came forward, a
+broad smile on his face, when he heard familiar voices.
+
+"I been thinkin' 'bout what I told you an' I b'lieve that's 'bout all I
+'member," he said.
+
+Then he was asked if he remembered any days when the slaves did not have
+to work.
+
+"Yes'm," was the reply. "We never worked on Christmas or the Fourth of
+July. Marster always give us big sacks of fruit an' candy on Christmas
+an' a barbecue the Fourth of July. We never worked none New Year's Day,
+neither. We jest sot around an' et chicken, fish an' biscuit. Durin' the
+week on Wednesday an' Thursday night we had dances an' then they was a
+lot of fiddlin' an' banjo playin'. We was glad to see days when we never
+had to work 'cause then we could sleep. It seem like the niggers had to
+git up soon's they lay down. Marster was good to us but the overseer was
+mean. He wan't no po' white trash; he was up-to-date but he like to beat
+on niggers."
+
+When asked if he has been happier since he was freed, he replied:
+
+"In a sense the niggers is better off since freedom come. Ol' Marster
+was good an' kind but I like to be free to go whar I please. Back then
+we couldn't go nowhar 'less we had a pass. We don't have no overseer to
+bother us now. It ain't that I didn't love my Marster but I jest likes
+to be free. Jest as soon as Marster said I didn't b'long to nobody no
+more I left an' went to Tallahassee. Mr. Charlie Pearce come an' wanted
+some hands to work in orange groves an' fish for him so that's what I
+done. He took a whole crew. While we was down thar Miss Carrie Standard,
+a white lady, had a school for the colored folks. 'Course, my ol' Miss
+had done taught me to read an' write out of the old blue back Webster
+but I had done forgot how. Miss Carrie had 'bout fifteen in her class.
+
+"I stayed in Tallahassee three years an' that's whar I married the first
+time. I was jest romancin' about an' happened to see Ca'line Harris so I
+married her. That was a year after the war. We never had no preacher but
+after we been goin' together for such a long time folks say we married.
+We married jest like the colored folks does now. When I left Tallahassee
+I moved to another place in Florida, thirteen mile from Thomasville, Ga.
+I stay thar 'bout thirty-seven year. My first wife died an' I married
+another. The second one lived twenty-one year an' I married again. The
+one what's livin' now is my third one. In 1905 she had a baby that was
+born with two lower teeth. It never lived but a year. In all, I've had
+twenty-three chillun. They most all lives in Florida an' I don't know
+what they doin' or how many chillun they got. I got four gran'-chillun
+livin' here."
+
+Melvin was asked to tell what he knew of the Ku Klux Klan. He answered:
+
+"I don't know nothin' 'bout that, I hear somethin' 'bout it but I never
+b'lieved in it. I b'lieve in h'ants, though. I ain't never see'd one but
+I'se heard 'em. When you walkin' 'long an' a twig snaps an' you feel
+like you want to run an' your legs won't move an' your hair feels like
+it's goin' to rise off your head, that's a ha'nt after you. That sho is
+the evil sperrit. An' if you ain't good somethin' bad'll happen to you."
+
+When asked why he joined the church, he replied:
+
+"So many people is tryin' to live on flowery beds of ease that the world
+is in a gamblin' position an' if it wasn't for the Christian part, the
+world would be destroyed. They ask God for mercy an' He grants it. When
+they git in trouble they can send a telegram wire an' git relief from on
+high."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by Ex-Slave
+
+NANCY SMITH, Age about 80
+129 Plum Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Grace McCune
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Residencies 6 & 7
+
+
+Nancy Smith was in bed when the interviewer called. The aged Negress
+appeared to be quite feeble but, even though she was alone in the house,
+her head was tied up in a snowy white cloth and the sickroom was neat
+and clean. The bowl of fresh flowers on her bedside table was no gayer
+than Nancy's cheerful chuckle as she repeated the doctor's instructions
+that she must stay in bed because of a weak heart. "Lawsy Chile," she
+said, "I ain't dead yit." Nancy stated that the grandson who lives with
+her has been preparing breakfast and cleaning the room since she has
+been bedridden, and that a niece who lives nearby comes in occasionally
+during the day to look after her.
+
+Asked if she felt strong enough to talk about the old plantation days,
+she answered: "I jus' loves to talk 'bout old times, and I spends a lot
+of dis lonesome time here by myself jus' a-studyin' 'bout dem days. But
+now listen, Chile, and understand dis. I warn't no plantation Negro. Our
+white folks was town folks, dey was. My Mammy and Daddy was Julia and
+Jack Carlton. Dey belonged to old Marster, Dr. Joe Carlton, and us lived
+right here in town in a big white house dat had a upstairs and a
+downstairs in it. Our house stood right whar de courthouse is now.
+Marster had all dat square and his mother, Mist'ess Bessie Carlton,
+lived on de square de other side of Marse Joe's. His office was on de
+corner whar de Georgia (Georgian) Hotel is now, and his hoss stable was
+right whar da Cain's boardin' house is. Honey, you jus' ought to have
+seed Marse Joe's hoss stable for it sho' was a big one.
+
+"No Mam, I don't know 'zactly how old I is. I was born 'fore de war, and
+Marse Joe kept de records of all of us and evvything, but somehow dem
+books got lost. Folks said I was 'bout de age of Marse Joe's son, Dr.
+Willie. Marster had three boys: Dr. Joe, Jr., Dr. Willie, and Dr.
+Jimmie, and dere was one little Mist'ess. She was Miss Julia. Us all
+played 'round in de yard together.
+
+"Daddy, he was de car'iage driver. He driv Marse Joe 'round, 'cept when
+Mist'ess wanted to go somewhar. Den Daddy driv de coach for her, and
+Marse Joe let another boy go wid him.
+
+"De biggest, bestest fireplace up at de big house was in de kitchen whar
+Mammy done de cookin'. It had a great wide hearth wid four big swingin'
+racks and four big old pots. Two of de ovens was big and two was little.
+Dat was better cookin' 'rangements and fixin's dan most of de other
+white folks in dis town had den. When dat fire got good and hot and dere
+was plenty of ashes, den Mammy started cookin' ash cakes and 'taters.
+One of Mammy's good ash-roasted 'taters would be awful good right now
+wid some of dat good old home-made butter to go wid it. Marster allus
+kept jus' barrels and barrels of good old home-made 'lasses sirup,
+'cause he said dat was what made slave chilluns grow fast and be strong.
+Folks don't know how to have plenty of good things to eat lak us had
+den. Jus' think of Marse Joe's big old plantation down nigh de Georgia
+Railroad whar he raised our somepin' t'eat: vegetables sich as green
+corn, 'taters, cabbages, onions, collards, turnip greens, beans,
+peas--more than I could think up all day--and dere was plenty of wheat,
+rye, and corn for our bread.
+
+"Out dar de pastur's was full of cows, hogs and sheep, and dey raised
+lots of chickens and turkeys on dat farm. Dey clipped wool from dem
+sheep to weave wid de cotton when dey made cloth for our winter clothes.
+
+"Marster had a overseer to look atter his plantation, but us chillun in
+town sho'ly did love to be 'lowed to go wid him or whoever went out dar
+when dey needed somepin' at de big house from de farm. Dey needed us to
+open and shut gates and run errands, and whilest dey was gittin' up what
+was to be took back to town, us would run 'round seein' evvything us
+could.
+
+"Honey, de clothes us wore den warn' t lak what folks has now. Little
+gals jus' wore slips cut all in one piece, and boys didn't wear nothin'
+but long shirts 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Dat was
+summertime clothes. In winter, dey give us plenty of warm clothes wid
+flannel petticoats and brass-toed shoes. Grown-up Negroes had dresses
+what was made wid waisties and skirts sewed together. Dey had a few
+gathers in de skirts, but not many. De men wore homespun britches wid
+galluses to hold 'em up. White folks had lots better clothes. Mist'ess'
+dresses had full, ruffled skirts and, no foolin', her clothes was sho'ly
+pretty. De white menfolks wore plain britches, but dey had bright
+colored coats and silk vests dat warn't lak de vests de men wears now.
+Dem vests was more lak fancy coats dat didn't have no sleeves. Some
+folks called 'em 'wescoats.' White chillun never had no special clothes
+for Sunday.
+
+"Miss Julia used to make me sweep de yard wid a little brushbroom and I
+had to wear a bonnet den to keep dust out of my hair. Dat bonnet was
+ruffled 'round de front and had staves to hold de brim stiff, but in de
+back it didn't have no ruffle; jus' de bottom of de crown what us called
+de bonnet tail. Dem bonnets looked good enough in front but mighty
+bob-tailed in de back.
+
+"Dey used to have big 'tracted meetin's in Pierce's Chapel nigh Foundry
+Street and Hancock Avenue, and us was allus glad for dem meetin' times
+to come. Through de week dey preached at night, but when Sunday come it
+was all day long and dinner on de ground. Pierce's Chapel was a old
+fashioned place, but you forgot all 'bout dat when Brother Thomas got in
+de pulpit and preached dem old time sermons 'bout how de devil gwine to
+git you if you don't repent and be washed in de blood of de Lamb. De
+call to come up to de mourner's bench brought dem Negroes jus' rollin'
+over one another in de 'citement. Soon dey got happy and dere was
+shoutin' all over de place. Some of 'em jus' fell out. When de 'tracted
+meetin' closed and de baptizin' dey come, dat was de happiest time of
+all. Most of de time dere was a big crowd for Brother Thomas to lead
+down into de river, and dem Negroes riz up out of de water a-singin':
+_Lord, I'm comin' Home_, _Whar de Healin' Waters Flow_, _Roll, Jordan
+Roll_, _All God's Chillun Got Wings_, and sich lak. You jus' knowed dey
+was happy.
+
+"No Mam, I don't 'member much 'bout folks dyin' in dem days 'cause I
+never did love to go 'round dead folks. De first corpse I ever seed was
+Marse Joe's boy, young Marse Jimmy. I was skeered to go in dat room 'til
+I had done seed him so peaceful lak and still in dat pretty white
+casket. It was a sho' 'nough casket, a mighty nice one; not lak dem old
+home-made coffins most folks was buried in. Hamp Thomas, a colored man
+dat lived right below us, made coffins for white folks and slaves too.
+Some of dem coffins was right nice. Dey was made out of pine mostly, and
+sometimes he painted 'em and put a nice linin' over cotton paddin'. Dat
+made 'em look better dan de rough boxes de porest folks was buried in.
+Mammy said dat when slaves died out on de plantation day wropped de
+'omans in windin' sheets and laid 'em on coolin' boards 'til de coffins
+was made, Dey put a suit of homespun clothes on de mens when dey laid
+'em out. Dey jus' had a prayer when dey buried plantation slaves, but
+when de crops was laid by, maybe a long time atter de burial, dey would
+have a white man come preach a fun'ral sermon and de folks would all
+sing: _Harps (Hark) From De Tomb_ and _Callin' God's Chillun Home_.
+
+"Dere warn't no patterollers in town, but slaves had to have passes if
+dey was out atter 9:00 o'clock at night or de town marshal would put a
+fine on 'em if dey couldn't show no pass.
+
+"De fust I knowed 'bout de war was when Marse Joe's brother, Marse
+Bennie Carlton, left wid de other sojers and pretty soon he got kilt. I
+was little den, and it was de fust time I had ever seed our Mist'ess
+cry. She jus' walked up and down in de yard a-wringin' her hands and
+cryin'. 'Poor Benny's been killed,' she would say over and over.
+
+"When dem yankee sojers come, us warn't much skeered 'cause Marse Joe
+had done told us all 'bout 'em and said to spect 'em 'fore long. Sho'
+'nough, one day dey come a-lopin' up in Marse Joe's yard. Dey had dem
+old blue uniforms on and evvy one of 'em had a tin can and a sack tied
+to his saddle. Marster told us dey kept drinkin' water in dem cans and
+dey called 'em canteens. De sacks was to carry deir victuals in. Dem
+fellows went all through out big house and stole whatever dey wanted.
+Dey got all of Mist'ess' best silver 'cause us didn't have no time to
+hide it atter us knowed dey was nigh 'round de place. Dey tuk all de
+somepin' t'eat dere was in de big house. When dey had done et all dey
+wanted and tuk evvything else dey could carry off, dey called us Negroes
+up 'fore deir captain, and he said all of us was free and could go any
+time and anywhar us wanted to go. Dey left, and us never seed 'em in dat
+yard no more. Marse Joe said all of us dat wanted to could stay on wid
+him. None of us had nowhar else to go and 'sides nobody wanted to go
+nowhar else, so evvy one of Marse Joe's Negroes stayed right on wid him
+dat next year. Us warn't skeered of dem Kluxers (Ku Klux Klan) here in
+town, but dey was right bad out on de plantations.
+
+"'Bout de time I was old enough to go to school, Daddy moved away from
+Marse Joe's. Us went over to de other side of de river nigh whar de old
+check mill is. Dey had made guns dar durin' de war, and us chillun used
+to go and look all through dat old mill house. Us played 'long de river
+banks and went swimmin' in de river. Dem was de good old days, but us
+never realized it den.
+
+"I never went to school much, 'cause I jus' couldn't seem to larn
+nothin'. Our teachers said I didn't have no talent for book larnin'.
+School was taught in Pierce's Chapel by a Negro man named Randolph, and
+he sho'ly did make kids toe da mark. You had better know dem lessons or
+you was gwine to git fanned out and have to stay in atter school. Us got
+out of school evvy day at 2:00 o'clock. Dat was 'cause us was town
+chillun. I was glad I didn't live in de country 'cause country schools
+kept de chillun all day long.
+
+"It was sort of funny to be able to walk out and go in town whenever us
+wanted to widout gittin' Marster's consent, but dere warn't nothin' much
+to go to town for 'less you wanted to buy somepin. A few stores, mostly
+on Broad Street, de Town Hall, and de Fire Hall was de places us headed
+for. Us did love to hang 'round whar dat fire engine was, 'cause when a
+fire broke out evvybody went, jus' evvybody. Folks would form lines from
+de nearest cisterns and wells and pass dem buckets of water on from one
+to another 'til dey got to de man nighest de fire.
+
+"Soon as I was big enough, I went to wuk for white folks. Dey never paid
+me much in cash money, but things was so much cheaper dan now dat you
+could take a little cash and buy lots of things. I wukked a long time
+for a yankee fambly named Palmer dat lived on Oconee Street right below
+de old Michael house, jus' 'fore you go down de hill. Dey had two or
+three chillun and I ain't never gwine to forgit de day dat little Miss
+Eunice was runnin' and playin' in de kitchen and fell 'gainst de hot
+stove. All of us was skeered most to death 'cause it did seem den lak
+her face was plumb ruint, and for days folks was 'most sho' she was
+gwine to die. Atter a long, long time Miss Eunice got well and growed up
+to be a fine school teacher. Some of dem scars still shows on her face.
+
+"Me and Sam Smith got married when I was 17. No Chile, us didn't waste
+no money on a big weddin' but I did have a right pretty weddin' dress.
+It was nice and new and was made out of white silk. My sister was
+a-cookin' for Mrs. White at dat time, and dey had a fine two-room
+kitchen in de back yard set off from de big house. My sister lived in
+one of dem rooms and cooked for de Whites in de other one. Mrs. White
+let us git married in her nice big kitchen and all de white folks come
+out from de big house to see Brother Thomas tie de knot for us. Den me
+and Sam built dis very same house whar you is a-settin', and I done been
+livin' here ever since.
+
+"Us was livin' right here when dey put on dem fust new streetcars.
+Little bitty mules pulled 'em 'long and sometimes dey had a right hard
+time draggin' dem big old cars through mud and bad weather. Now and den
+day got too frisky and run away; dat was when dem cars would rock and
+roll and you wished you could git off and walk. Most of de time dem
+little mules done good and us was jus' crazy 'bout ridin' on de
+streetcars."
+
+When Nancy tired of talking she tactfully remarked: "I spects I better
+git quiet and rest now lak de doctor ordered, but I'm mighty glad you
+come, and I hopes you'll be back again 'fore long. Most folks don't take
+up no time wid old wore-out Negroes. Good-bye, Missy."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE
+
+NELLIE SMITH, Age 78
+660 W. 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
+
+September 2, 1938
+
+
+Large pecan trees shaded the small, well-kept yard that led to Nellie
+Smith's five-room frame house. The front porch of her white cottage was
+almost obscured by a white cloud of fragrant clematis in full blossom,
+and the yard was filled with roses and other flowers.
+
+A small mulatto woman sat in the porch swing, a walking stick across her
+lap. Her straight, white hair was done in a prim coil low on the neck,
+and her print dress and white apron were clean and neat. In answer to
+the visitor's inquiry, she smiled and said: "This is Nellie Smith. Won't
+you come in out of the hot sun? I just knows you is plumb tuckered out.
+Walkin' around in this hot weather is goin' to make you sick if you
+don't be mighty careful.
+
+"'Scuse me for not gittin' up. I can't hardly make it by myself since I
+fell and got hurt so bad. My arm was broke and it looks lak my old back
+never will stop hurtin' no more. Our doctor says I'll have to stay
+bandaged up this way two or three weeks longer, but I 'spects that's on
+account of my age. You know old folks' bones don't knit and heal quick
+lak young folks' and, jus' let me tell you, I've done been around here a
+mighty long time. Are you comfortable, Child? Wouldn't you lak to have a
+glass of water? I'll call my daughter; she's back in the kitchen."
+
+Nellie rapped heavily on the floor with her walking stick, and a tall,
+stout, mulatto in a freshly laundered house frock made her appearance.
+"This is my daughter, Amanda," said Nellie, and, addressing her
+off-spring, she continued: "Bring this lady a drink of water. She needs
+it after walkin' 'way out here in this hot sun." Ice tinkled in the
+glass that the smiling Amanda offered as she inquired solicitously if
+there was anything else she could do. Amanda soon went back to her work
+and Nellie began her narrative.
+
+"Lordy, Honey, them days when I was a child, is so far back that I don't
+s'pect I can 'member much 'bout 'em. I does love to talk about them
+times, but there ain't many folks what keers anything 'bout listening to
+us old folks these days. If you don't mind we'll go to my room where
+it'll be more comfortable." Amanda appeared again, helped Nellie to her
+room, and placed her in a large chair with pillows to support the broken
+arm. Amanda laughed happily when she noticed her mother's enthusiasm for
+the opportunity to relate her life story. "Mother likes that," she said,
+"and I'm so glad you asked her to talk about those old times she thinks
+so much about. I'll be right back in the kitchen ironing; if you want
+anything, just call me."
+
+Nellie now began again: "I was born right near where the Coordinate
+College is now; it was the old Weir place then. I don't know nothin'
+'bout my Daddy, but my Mother's name was Harriet Weir, and she was owned
+by Marster Jack Weir. He had a great big old plantation then and the
+homeplace is still standin', but it has been improved and changed so
+much that it don't look lak the same house. As Marse Jack's sons married
+off he give each one of 'em a home and two slaves, but he never did sell
+none of his slaves, and he told them boys they better not never sell
+none neither.
+
+"Slaves slept in log cabins what had rock chimblies at the end. The
+rocks was put together with red clay. All the slaves was fed at the big
+house kitchen. The fireplace, where they done the cookin', was so big it
+went 'most across one end of that big old kitchen. It had long swingin'
+cranes to hang the pots on, and there was so many folks to cook for at
+one time that often there was five or six pots over the fire at the same
+time. Them pots was large too--not lak the little cookin' vessels we use
+these days. For the bakin', they had all sizes of ovens. Now Child, let
+me tell you, that was good eatin'. Folks don't take time enough to cook
+right now; They are always in too big a hurry to be doin' something else
+and don't cook things long enough. Back in dem days they put the
+vegetables on to cook early in the mornin' and biled 'em 'til they was
+good and done. The biggest diffunce I see is that folks didn't git sick
+and stay sick with stomach troubles then half as much as they does now.
+When my grandma took a roast out of one of them old ovens it would be
+brown and juicy, with lots of rich, brown gravy. Sweet potatoes baked
+and browned in the pan with it would taste mighty fine too. With some of
+her good biscuits, that roast meat, brown gravy, and potatoes, you had
+food good enough for anybody. I just wish I could taste some more of it
+one more time before I die.
+
+"Why, Child, two of the best cake-makers I ever knew used them old ovens
+for bakin' the finest kinds of pound cakes and fruit cakes, and evvybody
+knows them cakes was the hardest kinds to bake we had in them days. Aunt
+Betsey Cole was a great cake-baker then. She belonged to the Hulls, what
+lived off down below here somewhere but, when there was to be a big
+weddin' or some 'specially important dinner in Athens, folks 'most
+always sent for Aunt Betsey to bake the cakes. Aunt Laura McCrary was a
+great cake-maker too; she baked the cake for President Taft when he was
+entertained at Mrs. Maggie Welch's home here.
+
+"In them days you didn't have to be runnin' to the store evvy time you
+wanted to cook a extra good meal; folks raised evvything they needed
+right there at home. They had all the kinds of vegetables they knowed
+about then in their own gardens, and there was big fields of corn, rye,
+and wheat. Evvy big plantation raised its own cows for plenty of milk
+and butter, as well as lots of beef cattle, hogs, goats, and sheep.
+'Most all of 'em had droves of chickens, geese, and turkeys, and on our
+place there were lots of peafowls. When it was goin' to rain them old
+peafowls set up a big holler. I never knew rain to fail after them
+peafowls started their racket.
+
+"All our clothes and shoes was home-made, and I mean by that they growed
+the cotton, wool, and cattle and made the cloth and leather on the
+plantation. Summer clothes was made of cotton homespun, and cotton and
+wool was wove together for winter clothin'. Marse Jack owned a man what
+he kept there to do nothin' but make shoes. He had another slave to do
+all the carpenterin' and to make all the coffins for the folks that died
+on the plantation. That same carpenter made 'most all the beds the white
+folks and us slaves slept on. Them old beds--they called 'em
+teesters--had cords for springs; nobody never heard of no metal springs
+them days. They jus' wove them cords criss-cross, from one side to the
+other and from head to foot. When they stretched and sagged they was
+tightened up with keys what was made for that purpose.
+
+"Jus' look at my room," Nellie laughed. "I saw you lookin' at my bed. It
+was made at Wood's Furniture Shop, right here in Athens, and I've had it
+ever since I got married the first time. Take a good look at it, for
+there ain't many lak it left." Nellie's pride in her attractively
+furnished room was evident as she told of many offers she has had for
+this furniture, but she added: "I want to keep it all here to use myself
+jus' as long as I live. Shucks, I done got plumb off from what I was
+tellin' you jus' ravin' 'bout my old furniture and things.
+
+"My Mother died when I was jus' a little girl and she's buried in the
+old family graveyard on the Weir place, but there are several other
+slaves buried there and I don't know which grave is hers. Grandma raised
+me, and I was jus' gittin' big enough to handle that old peafowl-tail
+fly brush they used to keep the flies off the table when we were set
+free.
+
+"It wasn't long after the War when the Yankees come to Athens. Folks had
+to bury or hide evvything they could, for them Yankees jus' took
+anything they could git their hands on, 'specially good food. They would
+catch up other folks' chickens and take hams from the smokehouses, and
+they jus' laughed in folks' faces if they said anything 'bout it. They
+camped in the woods here on Hancock Avenue, but of course it wasn't
+settled then lak it is now. I was mighty scared of them Yankees and they
+didn't lak me neither. One of 'em called me a little white-headed devil.
+
+"One of my aunts worked for a northern lady that they called Mrs.
+Meeker, who lived where the old Barrow home is now. Evvy summer when she
+went back up North she would leave my aunt and uncle to take care of her
+place. It was right close to the Yankees' camp, and the soldiers made my
+aunt cook for them sometimes. I was livin' with her then, and I was so
+scared of 'em that I stayed right by her. She never had to worry 'bout
+where I was them days, for I was right by her side as long as the
+Yankees was hangin' 'round Athens. My uncle used to say that he had seen
+them Yankees ride to places and shoot down turkeys, then make the folks
+that owned them turkeys cook and serve 'em. Folks used to talk lots
+'bout the Yankees stoppin' a white 'oman on the street and takin' her
+earrings right out of her ears to put 'em on a Negro 'oman; I never saw
+that, I jus' heard it.
+
+"After the war was over Grandpa bought one of the old slave cabins from
+Marse Jack and we lived there for a long time; then we moved out to Rock
+Spring. I was about eight or nine years old then, and they found out I
+was a regular tomboy. The woods was all 'round Rock Spring then, and I
+did have a big time climbin' them trees. I jus' fairly lived in 'em
+durin' the daytime, but when dark come I wanted to be as close to
+Grandpa as I could git.
+
+"One time, durin' those days at Rock Spring, I wanted to go to a Fourth
+of July celebration. Those celebrations was mighty rough them days and
+Grandpa didn't think that would be a good place for a decent little
+girl, so he didn't want me to go. I cried and hollered and cut up
+something awful. Grandma told him to give me a good thrashin' but
+Grandpa didn't lak to do that, so he promised me I could go to ride if I
+wouldn't go to that celebration. That jus' tickled me to death, for I
+did lak to ride. Grandpa had two young mules what was still wild, and
+when he said I could ride one of 'em Grandma tried hard to keep me off
+of it, for she said that critter would be sure to kill me, but I was so
+crazy to go that nobody couldn't tell me nothin'. Auntie lent me her
+domino coat to wear for a ridin' habit and I sneaked and slipped a pair
+of spurs, then Grandpa put a saddle on the critter and helped me to git
+up on him. I used them spurs, and then I really went to ride. That mule
+showed his heels straight through them woods and way on out in the
+country. I couldn't stop him, so I jus' kept on kickin' him with them
+spurs and didn't have sense to know that was what was makin' him run. I
+thought them spurs was to make him mind me, and all the time I was I
+lammin' him with the spurs I was hollerin': 'Stop! Oh, Stop!' When I got
+to where I was too scared to kick him with the spurs or do nothin' 'cept
+hang on to that saddle, that young mule quit his runnin' and trotted
+home as nice and peaceable as you please. I never did have no more use
+for spurs.
+
+"Grandpa used to send me to Phinizy's mill to have corn and wheat
+ground. It would take all day long, so they let me take a lunch with me,
+and I always had the best sort of time when I went to mill. Uncle Isham
+run the mill then and he would let me think I was helpin' him. Then,
+while he helped me eat my lunch, he would call me his little 'tomboy
+gal' and would tell me about the things he used to do when he was 'bout
+my age.
+
+"My first schoolin' was in old Pierce's Chapel that set right spang in
+the middle of Hancock Avenue at Foundry Street. Our teacher was a Yankee
+man, and we were mighty surprised to find out that he wasn't very hard
+on us. We had to do something real bad to git a whippin', but when we
+talked or was late gittin' to school we had to stand up in the back of
+the schoolroom and hold up one hand. Pierce's chapel was where the
+colored folks had preachin' then--preachin' on Sunday and teachin' on
+week days, all in the same buildin'. A long time before then it had been
+the white folks' church, and Preacher Pierce was the first one to preach
+there after it was built, so they named it for him. When the white folks
+built them a new church they gave the old chapel to the colored folks,
+and, Honey, there was some real preachin' done in that old place. Me, I
+was a Methodist, but I was baptized just lak the Baptists was down there
+in the Oconee River.
+
+"Me and my first husband was too young to know what we was doin' when we
+got married, but our folks give us a grand big weddin'. I think my
+weddin' cake was 'bout the biggest one I ever saw baked in one of them
+old ovens in the open fireplace. They iced it in white and decorated it
+with grapes. A shoat was cooked whole and brought to the table with a
+big red apple in his mouth. You know a shoat ain't nothin' but a young
+hog that's done got bigger than a little pig. We had chicken and pies
+and just evvything good that went to make up a fine weddin' supper.
+
+"Our weddin' took place at night, and I wore a white dress made with a
+tight-fittin' waist and a long, full skirt that was jus' covered with
+ruffles. My sleeves was tight at the wrists but puffed at the shoulders,
+and my long veil of white net was fastened to my head with pretty
+flowers. I was a mighty dressed up bride. The bridegroom wore a real
+dark-colored cutaway coat with a white vest. We did have a swell weddin'
+and supper, but there wasn't no dancin' 'cause we was all good church
+folks.
+
+"We was so young we jus' started out havin' a good time and didn't miss
+nothin' that meant fun and frolic. We was mighty much in love with each
+other too. It didn't seem long before we had three children, and then
+one night he was taken sick all of a sudden and didn't live but a little
+while. Soon as he was taken sick I sent for the doctor, but my husband
+told me then he was dyin' fast and that he wasn't ready to die. He said:
+'Nellie, here we is with these three little children and neither one of
+us had been fit to raise 'em. Now I've got to leave you and you will
+have to raise one of 'em, but the other two will come right on after
+me.'"
+
+For several moments Nellie was still and quiet; then she raised her head
+and said: "Honey, it was jus' lak he said it would be. He was gone in
+jus' a little while and it wasn't two weeks 'fore the two youngest
+children was gone lak their daddy. I worried lots after my husband and
+babies was taken. I wanted to be saved to raise my little girl right,
+and I was too proud to let anybody know how troubled I was or what it
+was all about, so I kept it to myself. I lost weight, I couldn't sleep,
+and was jus' dyin' away with sin. I would go to church but that didn't
+git me no relief.
+
+"One day a dear, good white lady sent for me to come to the hotel where
+she was stayin'. She had been a mighty good friend to me for a long,
+long time, and I had all the faith in the world in her. She told me that
+she had a good job for me and wanted me to take it because it would let
+me keep my little girl with me. She said her best friend's maid had died
+and this friend of hers needed someone to work for her. 'I want you to
+go there and work for her,' said the white lady, 'for she will be good
+to you and your child. I've already talked with her about it.'
+
+"I took her advice and went to work for Mrs. R.L. Bloomfield whose
+husband operated the old check mill. Honey, Mrs. Bloomfield was one of
+God's children and one of the best folks I have ever known. Right away
+she told her cook: 'Amanda, look after Nellie good 'cause she's too
+thin.' It wasn't long before Mrs. Bloomfield handed me a note and told
+me to take it to Dr. Carlton. When he read it he laughed and said; 'Come
+on Nellie, I've got to see what's wrong with you.' I tried to tell him I
+wasn't sick, but he examined me all over, then called to see Mrs.
+Bloomfield and told her that I didn't need nothin' but plenty of rest
+and to eat enough good food. Bless her dear old heart, she done
+evvything she could for me, but there wasn't no medicine, rest, or food
+that could help the trouble that was wearin' me down then.
+
+"Soon they started a revival at our church. One night I wanted to go,
+but Aunt Amanda begged me not to, for she said I needed to go to bed and
+rest; later she said she would go along with me to hear that preachin'.
+Honey, I never will forgit that night. The text of the sermon was: 'Come
+unto me all you weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' When
+they began callin' the mourners to come up to the mourners' bench
+something seemed to be jus' a-pullin' me in that direction, but I was
+too proud to go. I didn't think then I ever could go to no mourners'
+bench or shout. After a while they started singin' _Almost Persuaded_,
+and I couldn't wait; I jus' got up and run to that blessed mourners'
+bench and I prayed there. Honey, I shouted too, for I found the Blessed
+Lord that very night and I've kept Him right with me ever since. I don't
+aim to lose Him no more. Aunt Amanda was most nigh happy as I was and,
+from that night when the burden was lifted from my heart, I begun
+gittin' better.
+
+"I worked on for Mrs. Bloomfield 'til I got married again, and then I
+quit work 'cept for nursin' sick folks now and then. I made good money
+nursin' and kept that up 'til I got too old to work outside my own
+family.
+
+"My second husband was Scott Smith. We didn't have no big, fancy weddin'
+for I had done been married and had all the trimmin's one time. We jus'
+had a nice quiet weddin' with a few close friends and kinfolks invited.
+I had on a very pretty, plain, white dress. Again I was blessed with a
+good husband. Scott fixed up that nice mantelpiece you see in this room
+for me, and he was mighty handy about the house; he loved to keep things
+repaired and in order. Best of all, he was jus' as good to my little
+girl as he was to the girl and boy that were born to us later. All three
+of my children are grown and married now, and they are mighty good to
+their old mother. One of my daughters lives in New York.
+
+"Soon after we married, we moved in a big old house called the old White
+place that was jus' around the corner from here on Pope Street. People
+said it was haunted, and we could hear something walkin' up and down the
+stairs that sounded lak folks. To keep 'em from bein' so scared, I used
+to try to make the others believe it was jus' our big Newfoundland dog,
+but one night my sister heard it. She got up and found the dog lyin'
+sound asleep on the front porch, so it was up to me to find out what it
+was. I walked up the stairs without seein' a thing, but, Honey, when I
+put my foot on that top step such a feelin' come over me as I had never
+had before in all my life. My body trembled 'til I had to hold tight to
+the stair-rail to keep from fallin', and I felt the hair risin' up all
+over my head. While it seemed like hours before I was able to move, it
+was really only a very few seconds. I went down those stairs in a hurry
+and, from that night to this day, I have never hunted ghosts no more and
+I don't aim to do it again, never.
+
+"I've been here a long time, Honey. When them first street lights was
+put up and lit, Athens was still mostly woods. Them old street lights
+would be funny to you now, but they was great things to us then, even if
+they wasn't nothin' but little lanterns what burned plain old lamp-oil
+hung out on posts. The Old Town Hall was standin' then right in the
+middle of Market (Washington) Street, between Lumpkin and Pulaski
+Streets. The lowest floor was the jail, and part of the ground floor was
+the old market place. Upstairs was the big hall where they held court,
+and that was where they had so many fine shows. Whenever any white folks
+had a big speech to make they went to that big old room upstairs in Town
+Hall and spoke it to the crowd.
+
+"You is too young to remember them first streetcars what was pulled by
+little bitsy Texas mules with bells around their necks. Hearing them
+bells was sweet music to us when they meant we was goin' to git a ride
+on them streetcars. Some folks was too precise to say 'streetcars'; they
+said 'horsecars', but them horsecars was pulled through the streets by
+mules, so what's the diffunce? Sometimes them little mules would mire up
+so deep in the mud they would have to be pulled out, and sometimes, when
+they was feelin' sassy and good, they would jus' up and run away with
+them streetcars. Them little critters could git the worst tangled up in
+them lines." Here Nellie laughed heartily. "Sometimes they would even
+try to climb inside the cars. It was lots of fun ridin' them cars, for
+you never did know what was goin' to happen before you got back home,
+but I never heard of no real bad streetcar accidents here."
+
+Nellie now began jumping erratically from one subject to another. "Did
+you notice my pretty flowers and ferns on the front porch?" she asked.
+"I jus' know you didn't guess what I made them two hangin' baskets out
+of. Them's the helmets that my son and my son-in-law wore when they was
+fightin' in the World War. I puts my nicest flowers in 'em evvy year as
+a sort of memorial to the ones that didn't git to fetch their helmets
+back home. Yes Mam, I had two stars on my service flag and, while I
+hated mighty bad that there had to be war, I wanted my family to do
+their part.
+
+"Honey, old Nellie is gittin' a little tired, but jus' you listen to
+this: I went to meetin' one night to hear the first 'oman preacher that
+ever had held a meetin' in this town. She was meanin' to preach at a
+place out on Rock Spring Street, and there was more folks there than
+could git inside that little old weather-boarded house. The place was
+packed and jammed, but me and Scott managed to git in. When I saw an old
+Hardshell Baptist friend of mine in there, I asked her how come she was
+at this kind of meetin'. 'Curiosity, my child,' she said, 'jus' plain
+old curiosity.' The 'oman got up to preach and, out of pure devilment,
+somebody on the outside hollered; 'The house is fallin' down.' Now
+Child, I know it ain't right to laugh at preachin's of any sort, but
+that was one funny scene. Evvybody was tryin' to git out at one time;
+such cryin', prayin', and testifyin' to the Lord I ain't never heard
+before. The crowd jus' went plumb crazy with fright. I was pushed down
+and trampled over in the rush before Scott could git me out; they mighty
+near killed me." The old woman stopped and laughed until the tears
+streamed down her face. "You know, Honey," she said, when she could
+control her voice sufficiently to resume her story, "Niggers ain't got
+no sense at all when they gits scared. When they throwed one gal out of
+a window, she called out: 'Thank you, Lord,' for the poor thing thought
+the Lord was savin' her from a fallin' buildin'. Poor old Martha
+Holbrook,"--The sentence was not finished until Nellie's almost
+hysterical giggles had attracted her daughter who came to see if
+something was wrong--"Martha Holbrook," Nellie repeated, "was climbin'
+backwards out of a window and her clothes got fastened on a nail. She
+slipped on down and there she was with her legs kickin' around on the
+outside and the rest of her muffled up in her clothes. It looked lak her
+clothes was jus' goin' to peel off over her head. It took the menfolks a
+long time to git her uncaught and out of that predicament in the window.
+Pretty soon the folks began to come to their senses and they found there
+wasn't nothin' wrong with the house 'cept that some doors and windows
+had been torn out by the crowd. They sho did git mad, but nobody seemed
+to know who started that ruction. My old Hardshell Baptist friend came
+up then and said: 'Curiosity brought us here, and curiosity like to have
+killed the cat.'"
+
+Seeing that Nellie was tired, the visitor prepared to leave. "Goodbye
+and God bless you," were the old woman's farewell words. At the front
+door Amanda said: "I haven't heard my Mother laugh that way in a long,
+long time, and I jus' know she is goin' to feel more cheerful after
+this. Thank you for givin' her this pleasure, and I hope you can come
+back again."
+
+
+
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+with
+PAUL SMITH, Age 74
+429 China Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Miss Grace McCune
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+Mrs. Leila Harris
+Augusta
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Residencies 6 & 7
+Augusta, Georgia
+
+
+Paul Smith's house stands on China Street, a narrow rutted alley
+deriving its name from the large chinaberry tree that stands at one end
+of the alley.
+
+Large water oaks furnish ample shade for the tidy yard where an old
+well, whose bucket hanging from a rickety windlass frame, was supplying
+water for two Negro women, who were leaning over washtubs. As they
+rubbed the clothes against the washboards, their arms kept time to the
+chant of _Lord I'se Comin' Home_. Paul and two Negro men, barefooted and
+dressed in overalls rolled to their knees, were taking their ease under
+the largest tree, and two small mulatto children were frolicking about
+with a kitten.
+
+As the visitor approached, the young men leaped to their feet and
+hastened to offer a chair and Paul said: "Howdy-do, Missy, how is you?
+Won't you have a cheer and rest? I knows you is tired plumb out. Dis old
+sun is too hot for folkses to be walkin' 'round out doors," Turning to
+one of the boys he continued: "Son, run and fetch Missy some fresh
+water; dat'll make her feel better. Jus' how far is you done walked?"
+asked Paul. Then he stopped one of the women from the washing and bade
+her "run into the house and fetch a fan for Missy."
+
+Paul is a large man, and a fringe of kinky white hair frames his face.
+His manner is very friendly for, noticing that the visitor was looking
+with some curiosity at the leather bands that encircled his wrists, the
+old man grinned. "Dem's jus' to make sho' dat I won't have no
+rheumatiz," he declared. "Mind if I cuts me a chaw of 'baccy? I'se jus'
+plumb lost widout no 'baccy."
+
+Paul readily agreed to give the story of his life. "I can't git over it,
+dat you done walked way out here from de courthouse jus' to listen to
+dis old Nigger talk 'bout dem good old days.
+
+"Mammy belonged to Marse Jack Ellis, and he owned de big old Ellis
+Plantation in Oglethorpe County whar I was borned. Marse Jack give mammy
+to his daughter, young Miss Matt, and when her and Marse Nunnally got
+married up, she tuk my mammy 'long wid her. Mistess Hah'iet (Harriet)
+Smith owned my daddy. Him and mammy never did git married. My granddaddy
+and grandmammy was owned by Marse Jim Stroud of Oconee County, and I dug
+de graves whar bofe of 'em's buried in Mars Hill graveyard.
+
+"All I knows 'bout slavery time is what I heared folkses say, for de war
+was most over when I was borned, but things hadn't changed much, as I
+was raised up.
+
+"I warn't but 'bout 2 years old when young Miss Matt tuk my mammy off,
+and she put me out 'cause she didn't want me. Missy, dey was sho good to
+me. Marse Jack's wife was Mistess Lizzie. She done her best to raise me
+right, and de ways she larnt me is done stayed wid me all dese years;
+many's de time dey's kept old Paul out of trouble. No Mam, I ain't never
+been in no jailhouse in all my days, and I sho ain't aimin' to de
+nothin' to make 'em put me dar now.
+
+"In dem days, when chillun got big enough to eat, dey was kept at de big
+house, 'cause deir mammies had to wuk off in de fields and Old Miss
+wanted all de chillun whar she could see atter 'em. Most times dere was
+a old slave 'oman what didn't have nothin' else to do 'cept take keer of
+slave chillun and feed 'em. Pickaninnies sho had to mind too, 'cause dem
+old 'omans would evermore lay on de switch. Us et out of wooden trays,
+and for supper us warn't 'lowed nothin' but bread and milk.
+
+"Long as us was little, us didn't have to wuk at nothin' 'cept little
+jobs lak pickin' up chips, bringin' in a little wood, and sometimes de
+biggest boys had to slop de hogs. Long 'bout de fust of March, dey tuk
+de pants 'way from all de boys and give 'em little shirts to wear from
+den 'til frost. Yes Mam, dem shirts was all us boys had to wear in
+summer 'til us was big enough to wuk in de fields. Gals jus' wore one
+piece of clothes in summertime too; dey wore a plain cotton dress. All
+our clothes, for summer and winter too, was made right dere on dat
+plantation. Dey wove de cloth on de looms; plain cotton for summer, and
+cotton mixed wid a little wool for winter. Dere was a man on de
+plantation what made all our brogans for winter. Marster made sho us had
+plenty of good warm clothes and shoes to keep us warm when winter come.
+
+"Folkses raised deir livin', all of it, at home den. Dey growed all
+sorts of gyarden truck sech as corn, peas, beans, sallet, 'taters,
+collards, ingons, and squashes. Dey had big fields of grain. Don't
+forgit dem good old watermillions; Niggers couldn't do widout 'em.
+Marster's old smokehouse was plumb full of meat all de time, and he had
+more cows, hogs, sheep, goats, chickens, turkeys, geese, and de lak, dan
+I ever larnt how to count. Dere warn't no runnin' off to de sto' evvy
+time dey started cookin' a company meal.
+
+"Dem home-made cotton gins was mighty slow. Us never seed no fast
+sto'-bought gins dem days. Our old gins was turned by a long pole what
+was pulled around by mules and oxen, and it tuk a long time to git de
+seeds out of de cotton dat way. I'se seed 'em tie bundles of fodder in
+front of de critters so dey would go faster tryin' to git to de fodder.
+Dey grez dem gins wid homemade tar. De big sight was dem old home-made
+cotton presses. When dem old mules went round a time or two pullin' dat
+heavy weight down, dat cotton was sho pressed.
+
+"Us chillun sho did lak to see 'em run dat old gin, 'cause 'fore dey
+ever had a gin Marster used to make us pick a shoe-full of cotton seeds
+out evvy night 'fore us went to bed. Now dat don't sound so bad, Missy,
+but did you ever try to pick any seeds out of cotton?
+
+"Course evvybody cooked on open fireplaces dem days, and dat was whar us
+picked out dem cotton seeds, 'round dat big old fireplace in de kitchen.
+All de slaves et together up dar at de big house, and us had some mighty
+good times in dat old kitchen. Slave quarters was jus' little one room
+log cabins what had chimblies made of sticks and red mud. Dem old
+chimblies was all de time a-ketchin' on fire. De mud was daubed 'twixt
+de logs to chink up de cracks, and sometimes dey chinked up cracks in de
+roof wid red mud. Dere warn't no glass windows in dem cabins, and dey
+didn't have but one window of no sort; it was jus' a plain wooden
+shutter. De cabins was a long ways off from de big house, close by de
+big old spring whar de wash-place was. Dey had long benches for de
+wash-tubs to set on, a big old oversize washpot, and you mustn't leave
+out 'bout dat big old battlin' block whar dey beat de dirt out of de
+clothes. Dem Niggers would sing, and deir battlin' sticks kept time to
+de music. You could hear de singin' and de sound of de battlin' sticks
+from a mighty long ways off.
+
+"I ain't never been to school a day in all my life. My time as chillun
+was all tuk up nussin' Mistess' little chillun, and I sho didn't never
+git nary a lick 'bout dem chillun. Mistess said dat a white 'oman got
+atter her one time 'bout lettin' a little Nigger look atter her chillun,
+and dat 'oman got herself told. I ain't never uneasy 'bout my chillun
+when Paul is wid 'em,' Mistess said. When dey started to school, it was
+my job to see dat dey got dere and when school was out in de evenin', I
+had to be dere to fetch dem chillun back home safe and sound. School
+didn't turn out 'til four o'clock den, and it was a right fur piece from
+dat schoolhouse out to our big house. Us had to cross a crick, and when
+it rained de water would back up and make it mighty bad to git from one
+side to t'other. Marster kept a buggy jus' for us to use gwine back and
+forth to school. One time atter it had done been rainin' for days, dat
+crick was so high I was 'fraid to try to take Mistess' chillun crost it
+by myself, so I got a man named Blue to do de drivin' so I could look
+atter de chillun. Us pulled up safe on de other side and den dere warn't
+no way to git him back to his own side. I told him to ride back in de
+buggy, den tie de lines, and de old mule would come straight back to us
+by hisself. Blue laughed and said dere warn't no mule wid dat much
+sense, but he soon seed dat I was right, cause dat old mule come right
+on back jus' lak I said he would.
+
+"Us chillun had good times back den, yes Mam, us sho did. Some of our
+best times was at de old swimmin' hole. De place whar us dammed up de
+crick for our swimmin' hole was a right smart piece off from de big
+house. Us picked dat place 'cause it had so many big trees to keep de
+water shady and cool. One Sunday, when dere was a big crowd of white and
+colored chillun havin' a big time splashin' 'round in de water, a white
+man what lived close by tuk all our clothes and hid 'em way up at his
+house; den he got up in a tree and hollered lak evvything was atter him.
+Lawsy, Miss, us chillun all come out of dat crick skeered plumb stiff
+and run for our clothes. Dey was all gone, but dat never stopped us for
+long. Us lit out straight for dat man's house. He had done beat us
+gitting dar, and when us come runnin' up widout no clothes on, he
+laughed fit to kill at us. Atter while he told us he skeered us to keep
+us from stayin' too long in de crick and gittin' drownded, but dat
+didn't slow us up none 'bout playing in de swimmin' hole.
+
+"Talkin' 'bout being skeered, dere was one time I was skeered I was
+plumb ruint. Missy, dat was de time I stole somepin' and didn't even
+know I was stealin'. A boy had come by our place dat day and axed me to
+go to de shop on a neighbor's place wid him. Mistess 'lowed me to go,
+and atter he had done got what he said he was sont atter, he said dat
+now us would git us some apples. He was lots bigger dan me, and I jus'
+s'posed his old marster had done told him he could git some apples out
+of dat big old orchard. Missy, I jus' plumb filled my shirt and pockets
+wid dem fine apples, and us was havin' de finest sort of time when de
+overseer cotch us. He let me go, but dat big boy had to wuk seven long
+months to pay for dat piece of foolishment. I sho didn't never go nowhar
+else wid dat fellow, 'cause my good old mistess said he would git me in
+a peck of trouble if I did, and I had done larn't dat our mistess was
+allus right.
+
+"Times has sho done changed lots since dem days; chillun warn't 'lowed
+to run 'round den. When I went off to church on a Sunday, I knowed I had
+to be back home not no later dan four o'clock. Now chillun jus' goes all
+de time, whar-some-ever dey wants to go. Dey stays out most all night
+sometimes, and deir mammies don't never know whar dey is half de time.
+'Tain't right, Missy, folkses don't raise deir chillun right no more;
+dey don't larn 'em to be 'bejient and don't go wid 'em to church to hear
+de Word of de Lawd preached lak dey should ought to.
+
+"Fore de war, colored folkses went to de same church wid deir white
+folkses and listened to de white preacher. Slaves sot way back in de
+meetin'-house or up in a gallery, but us could hear dem good old
+sermons, and dem days dey preached some mighty powerful ones. All my
+folkses jined de Baptist Church, and Dr. John Mell's father, Dr. Pat
+Mell, baptized evvy one of 'em. Course I growed up to be a Baptist too
+lak our own white folkses.
+
+"Slaves had to wuk hard dem days, but dey had good times too. Our white
+folkses looked atter us and seed dat us had what-some-ever us needed.
+When talk come 'round 'bout havin' separate churches for slaves, our
+white folkses give us deir old meetin'-house and built deyselfs a new
+one, but for a long time atter dat it warn't nothin' to see white
+folkses visitin' our meetin's, cause dey wanted to help us git started
+off right. One old white lady--us called her Aunty Peggy--never did stop
+comin' to pray and sing and shout wid us 'til she jus' went off to sleep
+and woke up in de better world. Dat sho was one good 'oman.
+
+"Some of dem slaves never wanted no 'ligion, and dey jus' laughed at us
+cause us testified and shouted. One day at church a good old 'oman got
+right 'hind a Nigger dat she had done made up her mind she was gwine to
+see saved 'fore dat meetin' ended. She drug 'im up to de mourner's
+bench. He 'lowed he never made no prep'ration to come in dis world and
+dat he didn't mean to make none to leave it. She prayed and prayed, but
+dat fool Nigger jus' laughed right out at her. Finally de 'oman got mad.
+'Laugh if you will,' she told dat man, 'De Good Lawd is gwine to purge
+out your sins for sho, and when you gits full of biles and sores you'll
+be powerful glad to git somebody to pray for you. Dat ain't all; de same
+Good Lawd is gwine to lick you a thousand lashes for evvy time you is
+done made fun of dis very meetin'.' Missy, would you believe it, it
+warn't no time 'fore dat man sickened and died right out wid a cancer in
+his mouf. Does you 'member dat old sayin' 'De ways of de Lawd is slow
+but sho?'
+
+"Corpses was washed good soon atter de folkses died and deir clothes put
+on 'em, den dey was laid on coolin' boards 'til deir coffins was made
+up. Why Missy, didn't you know dey didn't have no sto'-bought coffins
+dem days? Dey made 'em up right dere on de plantation. De corpse was
+measured and de coffin made to fit it. Sometimes dey was lined wid black
+calico, and sometimes dey painted 'em black on de outside. Dere warn't
+no undytakers den, and dere warn't none of dem vaults to set coffins in
+neither; dey jus' laid planks crost de top of a coffin 'fore de dirt was
+piled in de grave.
+
+"When dere was a death 'round our neighborhood, evvybody went and paid
+deir 'spects to de fambly of de dead. Folkses set up all night wid de
+corpse and sung and prayed. Dat settin' up was mostly to keep cats offen
+de corpse. Cats sho is bad atter dead folks; I'se heared tell dat dey
+most et up some corpses what nobody warn't watchin'. When de time come
+to bury de dead, dey loaded de coffin on to a wagon, and most times de
+fambly rode to de graveyard in a wagon too, but if it warn't no fur
+piece off, most of de other folkses walked. Dey started singin' when dey
+left de house and sung right on 'til dat corpse was put in de grave.
+When de preacher had done said a prayer, dey all sung: _I'se Born to Die
+and Lay Dis Body Down_. Dat was 'bout all dere was to de buryin', but
+later on dey had de funeral sermon preached in church, maybe six months
+atter de buryin'. De white folkses had all deir funeral sermons preached
+at de time of de buryin'.
+
+"Yes Mam, I 'members de fust money I ever wuked for. Marster paid me 50
+cents a day when I got big enough to wuk, and dat was plumb good wages
+den. When I got to whar I could pick more'n a hunnerd pounds of cotton
+in one day he paid me more. I thought I was rich den. Dem was good old
+days when us lived back on de plantation. I 'members dem old folkses
+what used to live 'round Lexin'ton, down in Oglethorpe County.
+
+"When us warn't out in de fields, us done little jobs 'round de big
+house, de cabins, barns, and yards. Us used to holp de older slaves git
+out whiteoak splits, and dey larnt us to make cheer bottoms and baskets
+out of dem splits. De best cheer bottoms what lasted de longest was dem
+what us made wid red ellum withes. Dem old shuck bottoms was fine too;
+dey plaited dem shucks and wound 'em 'round for cheer bottoms and
+footsmats. De 'omans made nice hats out of shucks and wheat straw. Dey
+plaited de shucks and put 'em together wid plaits of wheat straw. Dey
+warn't counted much for Sunday wear, but dey made fine sun hats.
+
+"Whilst us was all a-wukin' away at house and yard jobs, de old folkses
+would tell us 'bout times 'fore us was borned. Dey said slave dealers
+used to come 'round wid a big long line of slaves a-marchin' to whar
+dere was gwine to be a big slave sale. Sometimes dey marched 'em here
+from as fur as Virginny. Old folkses said dey had done been fetched to
+dis country on boats. Dem boats was painted red, real bright red, and
+dey went plumb to Africa to git de niggers. When dey got dere, dey got
+off and left de bright red boats empty for a while. Niggers laks red,
+and dey would git on dem boats to see what dem red things was. When de
+boats was full of dem foolish Niggers, de slave dealers would sail off
+wid 'em and fetch 'em to dis country to sell 'em to folkses what had
+plantations. Dem slave sales was awful bad in some ways, 'cause
+sometimes dey sold mammies away from deir babies and famblies got
+scattered. Some of 'em never knowed what 'comed of deir brudders and
+sisters and daddies and mammies.
+
+"I seed dem Yankees when dey come, but I was too little to know much
+about what dey done. Old folkses said dey give de Athens people smallpox
+and dat dey died out right and left, jus' lots of 'em. 'Fore dey got rid
+of it, dey had to burn up beds and clothes and a few houses. Dey said
+dey put Lake Brown and Clarence Bush out in de swamp to die, but dey got
+well, come out of dat swamp, and lived here for years and years.
+
+"Granddaddy told us 'bout how some slaves used to rum off from deir
+marsters and live in caves and dugouts. He said a man and a 'oman run
+away and lived for years in one of dem places not no great ways from de
+slave quarters on his marster's place. Atter a long, long time, some
+little white chillun was playin' in de woods one day and clumb up in
+some trees. Lookin' out from high up in a tree one of 'em seed two
+little pickaninnies but he couldn't find whar dey went. When he went
+back home and told 'bout it, evvybody went to huntin' 'em, s'posin' dey
+was lost chillun. Dey traced 'em to a dugout, and dere dey found dem two
+grown slaves what had done run away years ago, and dey had done had two
+little chillun born in dat dugout. Deir marster come and got 'em and tuk
+'em home, but de chillun went plumb blind when dey tried to live out in
+de sunlight. Dey had done lived under ground too long, and it warn't
+long 'fore bofe of dem chillun was daid.
+
+"Dem old slavery-time weddin's warn't lak de way folkses does when dey
+gits married up now; dey never had to buy no license den. When a slave
+man wanted to git married up wid a gal he axed his marster, and if it
+was all right wid de marster den him and de gal come up to de big house
+to jump de broomstick 'fore deir white folkses. De gal jumped one way
+and de man de other. Most times dere was a big dance de night dey got
+married.
+
+"If a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal what didn't live on dat
+same plantation he told his marster, den his marster went and talked to
+de gal's marster. If bofe deir marsters 'greed den dey jumped de
+broomstick; if neither one of de marsters wouldn't sell to de other one,
+de wife jus' stayed on her marster's place and de husband was 'lowed a
+pass what let him visit her twict a week on Wednesday and Sadday nights.
+If he didn't keep dat pass to show when de patterollers cotch him, dey
+was more'n apt to beat de skin right off his back. Dem patterollers was
+allus watchin' and dey was awful rough. No Mam, dey never did git to
+beat me up. I out run 'em one time, but I evermore did have to make
+tracks to keep ahead of 'em.
+
+"Us didn't know much 'bout folkses bein' kilt 'round whar us stayed.
+Sometimes dere was talk 'bout devilment a long ways off. De mostest
+troubles us knowed 'bout was on de Jim Smith plantation. Dat sho was a
+big old place wid a heap of slaves on it. Dey says dat fightin' didn't
+'mount to nothin'. Marse Jim Smith got to be mighty rich and he lived to
+be an old man. He died out widout never gittin' married. Folkses said a
+nigger boy dat was his son was willed heaps of dat propity, but folkses
+beat him out of it and, all of a sudden, he drapped out of sight. Some
+says he was kilt, but I don't know nothin' 'bout dat.
+
+"Now Missy, how come you wants to know 'bout dem frolics us had dem
+days? Most of 'em ended up scandlous, plumb scandlous. At harvest season
+dere was cornshuckin's, wheat-thrashin's, syrup-cookin's, and
+logrollin's. All dem frolics come in deir own good time. Cornshuckin's
+was de most fun of 'em all. Evvybody come from miles around to dem
+frolics. Soon atter de wuk got started, marster got out his little brown
+jug, and when it started gwine de rounds de wuk would speed up wid sich
+singin' as you never heared, and dem Niggers was wuking in time wid de
+music. Evvy red ear of corn meant an extra swig of liquor for de Nigger
+what found it. When de wuk was done and dey was ready to go to de tables
+out in de yard to eat dem big barbecue suppers, dey grabbed up deir
+marster and tuk him to de big house on deir shoulders. When de supper
+was et, de liquor was passed some more and dancin' started, and
+sometimes it lasted all night. Folkses sometimes had frolics what dey
+called fairs; dey lasted two or three days. Wid so much dancin', eatin',
+and liquor drinkin' gwine on for dat long, lots of fightin' took place.
+It was awful. Dey cut on one another wid razors and knives jus' lak dey
+was cuttin' on wood. I 'spects I was bad as de rest of 'em 'bout dem
+razor fights, but not whar my good old mist'ess could larn 'bout it. I
+never did no fightin' 'round de meetin'-house. It was plumb sinful de
+way some of dem Niggers would git in ruckuses right in meetin' and break
+up de services.
+
+"Brudder Bradberry used to come to our house to hold prayermeetin's, but
+Lawsey, Missy, dat man could eat more dan any Nigger I ever seed from
+dat day to dis. When us knowed he was a-comin' Mistess let us cook up
+heaps of stuff, enough to fill dat long old table plumb full, but dat
+table was allus empty when he left. Yes Mam, he prayed whilst he was
+dere, but he et too. Dem prayers must'a made him mighty weak.
+
+"Marster Joe Campbell, what lived in our settlement, was sho a queer
+man. He had a good farm and plenty of most evvything. He would plant his
+craps evvy year and den, Missy, he would go plumb crazy evvy blessed
+year. Folkses would jine in and wuk his craps out for him and, come
+harvest time, dey had to gather 'em in his barns, cause he never paid
+'em no mind atter dey was planted. When de wuk was all done for him,
+Marster Joe's mind allus come back and he was all right 'til next
+crap-time. I told my good old marster dat white man warn't no ways
+crazy; he had plumb good sense, gittin' all dat wuk done whilst he jus'
+rested. Marster was a mighty good man, so he jus' grinned and said
+'Paul, us mustn't jedge nobody.'
+
+"When marster moved here to Athens I come right 'long wid 'im. Us
+started us a wuk-shop down on dis same old Oconee River, close by whar
+Oconee Street is now. Dis was mostly jus' woods. Dere warn't none of
+dese new-fangled stock laws den, and folkses jus' fenced in deir
+gyardens and let de stock run evvywhar. Dey marked hogs so evvybody
+would know his own; some cut notches in de ears, some cut off de tails
+or marked noses, and some put marks on de hoof part of de foots. Mr.
+Barrow owned 'bout 20 acres in woods spread over Oconee Hill, and de
+hogs made for dem woods whar dey jus' run wild. Cows run out too and got
+so wild dey would fight when dey didn't want to come home. It warn't no
+extra sight den to see folkses gwine atter deir cows on mules. Chickens
+run out, and folkses had a time findin' de aigs and knowin' who dem aigs
+b'longed to. Most and gen'ally finders was keepers far as aigs was
+consarnt but, in spite of all dat, us allus had plenty, and Mistess
+would find somepin' to give folkses dat needed to be holped.
+
+"When us come to Athens de old Georgy Railroad hadn't never crost de
+river to come into town. De depot was on de east side of de river on
+what dey called Depot Street. Daddy said he holped to build dat fust
+railroad. It was way back in slavery times. Mist'ess Hah'iet Smith's
+husband had done died out, and de 'minstrator of de 'state hired out
+most all of Mist'ess' slaves to wuk on de railroad. It was a long time
+'fore she could git 'em back home.
+
+"Missy, did you know dat Indians camped at Skull Shoals, down in Greene
+County, a long time ago? Old folkses said dey used to be 'round here
+too, 'specially at Cherokee Corners. At dem places, it was a long time
+'fore dey stopped plowin' up bones whar Indians had done been buried.
+Right down on dis old river, nigh Mr. Aycock's place, dey says you kin
+still see caves whar folkses lived when de Indians owned dese parts. If
+high waters ain't washed 'em all away, de skeletons of some of dem
+folkses what lived dar is still in dem caves. Slaves used to hide in dem
+same caves when dey was runnin' off from deir marsters or tryin' to keep
+out of de way of de law. Dat's how dem caves was found; by white folkses
+huntin' runaway slaves.
+
+"Now Missy, you don't keer nothin' 'bout my weddin'. To tell de trufe,
+I never had no weddin'; I had to steal dat gal of mine. I had done axed
+her mammy for her, but she jus' wouldn't 'gree for me to have Mary, so I
+jus' up and told her I was gwine to steal dat gal. Dat old 'oman 'lowed
+she would see 'bout dat, and she kept Mary in her sight day and night,
+inside de house mos'ly. It looked lak I never was gwine to git a chance
+to steal my gal, but one day a white boy bought my license for me and I
+got Brudder Bill Mitchell to go dar wid me whilst Mary's ma was asleep.
+Us went inside de house and got married right dar in de room next to
+whar she was sleepin'. When she waked up dere was hot times 'round dat
+place for a while, but good old Brudder Mitchell stayed right dar and
+holped us through de trouble. Mary's done been gone a long time now and
+I misses her mighty bad, but it won't be long now 'fore de Lawd calls me
+to go whar she is.
+
+"I done tried to live right, to keep all de laws, and to pay up my jus'
+and honest debts, cause mist'ess larnt me dat. I was up in Virginny
+wukin' on de railroad a few years ago. De boss man called me aside one
+day and said; 'Paul, you ain't lak dese other Niggers. I kin tell dat
+white folks raised you.' It sho made me proud to hear him say dat, for I
+knows dat old Miss up yonder kin see dat de little Nigger she tuk in and
+raised is still tryin' to live lak she larnt him to do."
+
+When the visitor arose to leave, old Paul smiled and said "Goodby Missy.
+I'se had a good time bringin' back dem old days. Goodby, and God bless
+you."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave 102]
+
+SUBJECT: EMELINE STEPNEY, A DAUGHTER OF SLAVERY
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1
+RESEARCH WORKER: JOSEPH E. JAFFEE
+EDITOR: JOHN N. BOOTH
+SUPERVISOR: JOSEPH E. JAFFEE (ASST.)
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Emeline Stepney, as she came into the office that July day, was a
+perfect vignette from a past era. Over 90 years old, and unable to walk
+without support, she was still quick witted and her speech, although
+halting, was full of dry humor. Emeline was clad in a homespun dress
+with high collar and long sleeves with wristbands. On her feet she wore
+"old ladies' comforts." She was toothless and her hands were gnarled and
+twisted from rheumatism and hard work.
+
+Emeline's father, John Smith, had come from Virginia and belonged to
+"Cap'n Tom Wilson." Her mother, Sally, "wuz a Georgia borned nigger" who
+belonged to "Mars Shelton Terry." The two plantations near Greensboro,
+in Greene County, were five miles apart and the father came to see his
+family only on Wednesday and Saturday nights. The arrangement evidently
+had no effect in the direction of birth control for Emeline was the
+second of thirteen children.
+
+Life on the Terry place was a fairly pleasant existence. The master was
+an old bachelor and he had two old maid sisters, Miss Sarah and Miss
+Rebecca. The plantation was in charge of two overseers who were
+reasonably kind to the Negroes.
+
+No crops of any kind were sold and consequently the plantation had to be
+self-sustaining. Cotton was spun into clothing in the master's own
+spinning room and the garments were worn by the master and slaves alike.
+A small amount of flax was raised each year and from this the master's
+two sisters made household linens. Food crops consisted of corn, wheat
+(there was a mill on the plantation to grind these into flour and meal),
+sweet potatoes, and peas. In the smoke house there was always plenty of
+pork, beef, mutton, and kid. The wool from the sheep was made into
+blankets and woolen garments.
+
+The Terry household was not like other menages of the time. There were
+only one or two house servants, the vast majority being employed in the
+fields. Work began each morning at eight o'clock and was over at
+sundown. No work was done on Saturday, the day being spent in
+preparation for Sunday or in fishing, visiting, or "jes frolickin'". The
+master frequently let them have dances in the yards on Saturday
+afternoon. To supply the music they beat on tin buckets with sticks.
+
+On Sunday the Negroes were allowed to attend the "white folks' church"
+where a balcony was reserved for them. Some masters required their
+"people" to go to church; but Emeline's master thought it a matter for
+the individual to decide for himself.
+
+Emeline was about 15 when her first suitor and future husband began to
+come to see her. He came from a neighboring farm and had to have a pass
+to show the "patty rollers" or else he would be whipped. He never stayed
+at night even after they were married because he was afraid he might be
+punished.
+
+The slaves were never given any spending money. The men were allowed to
+use tobacco and on rare occasions there was "toddy" for them. Emeline
+declares SHE never used liquor and ascribes her long life partly to this
+fact and partly to her belief in God.
+
+She believes in signs but interprets them differently [HW: ?] from most
+of her people. She believes that if a rooster crows he is simply
+"crowin' to his crowd" or if a cow bellows it is "mos' likely bellowin'
+fer water." If a person sneezes while eating she regards this as a sign
+that the person is eating too fast or has a bad cold. She vigorously
+denies that any of these omens foretells death. Some "fool nigger"
+believe that an itching foot predicts a journey to a strange land; but
+Emeline thinks it means that the foot needs washing.
+
+Aunt Emeline has some remedies which she has found very effective in the
+treatment of minor ailiments. Hoarhound tea and catnip tea are good for
+colds and fever. Yellow root will cure sore throat and a tea made from
+sheep droppings will make babies teethe easily. "I kin still tas'e dat
+sassafras juice mammy used to give all de chilluns." She cackled as she
+was led out the door.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Atlanta
+Dist. 5
+Ex-Slave #103]
+
+2-4-37
+Whitley
+SEC.
+Ross
+
+[HW: AMANDA STYLES]
+
+
+On November 18, 1936 Amanda Styles ex-slave, was interviewed at her
+residence 268 Baker Street N.E. Styles is about 80 years of age and
+could give but a few facts concerning her life as a slave. Her family
+belonged to an ordinary class of people neither rich nor poor. Her
+master Jack Lambert owned a small plantation; and one other slave
+besides her family which included her mother, father and one sister. The
+only event during slavery that impressed itself on Mrs. Styles was the
+fact that when the Yanks came to their farm they carried off her mother
+and she was never heard of again.
+
+Concerning superstitions, signs, and other stories pertaining to this
+Mrs. Styles related the following signs and events. As far as possible
+the stories are given in her exact words. "During my day it was going
+ter by looking in the clouds. Some folks could read the signs there. A
+'oman that whistled wuz marked to be a bad 'oman. If a black cat crossed
+your path you sho would turn round and go anudder way. It was bad luck
+to sit on a bed and when I wuz small I wuz never allowed to sit on the
+bed."
+
+Following are stories, related by Mrs. Styles, which had their origin
+during slavery and immediately following slavery.
+
+"During slavery time there was a family that had a daughter and she
+married and ebby body said she wuz a witch cause at night dey sed she
+would turn her skin inside out and go round riding folks horses. Der
+next morning der horses manes would be tied up. Now her husband didn't
+know she was a witch so somebody tole him he could tell by cutting off
+one of her limbs so one night the wife changed to a cat and the husband
+cut off her forefinger what had a ring on it. After that der wife would
+keep her hand hid cause her finger wuz cut off; and she knowed her
+husband would find out that she wuz the witch.
+
+My mother sed her young mistress wuz a witch and she too married but her
+husband didn't know that she wuz a witch; and she would go round at
+night riding horses and turning the cows milk into blood. Der folks
+didn't know what ter do instead of milk they had blood. So one day a old
+lady came there and told em that a witch had been riding the cow, and to
+cast off the spell, they had to take a horse shoe and put it in the
+bottom of the churn and then the blood would turn back ter milk and
+butter. Sho nuff they did it and got milk.
+
+Anudder man had a wife that wuz accused of being a witch so he cut her
+leg off and it wuz a cats' leg and when his wife came back her leg was
+missing.
+
+They say there wuz a lot of conjuring too and I have heard 'bout a lot
+of it. My husband told me he went to see a 'oman once dat had scorpions
+in her body. The conjurer did it by putting the blood of a scorpion in
+her body and this would breed more scorpions in her. They had to get
+anudder conjurer to undo the spell.
+
+There wuz anudder family that lived near and that had a daughter and
+when she died they say she had a snake in her body.
+
+My husband sed he wuz conjured when he wuz a boy and had ter walk with
+his arms outstretched he couldn't put em down at all and couldn't even
+move 'em. One day he met a old man and he sed "Son whats der matter wid
+you?" "I don't know," he sed. "Den why don't you put your arms down?" "I
+can't." So the old man took a bottle out of his pocket and rubbed his
+arms straight down 'till they got alright.
+
+He told me too bout a 'oman fixing her husband. This 'oman saw anudder
+man she wonted so she had her husband fixed so he would throw his arms
+up get on his knees and bark just like a dog. So they got some old man
+that wuz a conjurer to come and cure him. He woulda died if they hadn't
+got that spell off him.
+
+My father told me that a 'oman fixed anudder one cause she married her
+sweetheart she told her he nebber would do her any good and sho nuff she
+fixed her so dat she would have a spell ebby time she went to church.
+One day they sent fer her husband and asked him what wuz the matter with
+her and he told them that this other 'oman fixed her with conjure. They
+sent for a conjurer and he came and rubbed some medicine on her body and
+she got alright.
+
+During slavery time the master promised ter whip a nigger and when he
+came out ter whip him instead he just told him "Go on nigger 'bout your
+business." Der Nigger had fixed him by spitting as for as he could spit
+so the master couldn't come any nearer than that spit.
+
+I know a Nigger that they sed wuz kin ter the devil. He told me that he
+could go out hind the house and make some noise and the devil would come
+and dance with him. He sed the devil learned him to play a banjo and if
+you wanted to do anything the devil could do, go to a cross road walk
+backwards and curse God. But don't nebber let the devil touch any of
+your works or anything that belonged to you or you would lose your
+power.
+
+The nearest I ebber came ter believing in conjure wuz when my step
+mother got sick. She fell out with an 'oman that lived with her daughter
+cause this 'oman had did something ter her daughter; and so she called
+her a black kinky head hussy and this 'oman got fightin mad and sed ter
+her. "Nebber mind you'll be nappy and kinky headed too when I git
+through wid you." My Ma's head turned real white and funny right round
+the edge and her mind got bad and she used to chew tobacco and spit in
+her hands and rub it in her head; and very soon all her hair fell out.
+She even quit my father after living with him 20 years saying he had
+poisoned her. She stayed sick a long time and der doctors nebber could
+understand her sickness. She died and I will always believe she wuz
+fixed.
+
+After relating the last story my interview with Mrs. Styles came to an
+end. I thanked her and left, wondering over the strange stories she had
+told me.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of
+Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, by Work Projects Administration
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: A FOLK ***
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+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
+    <title>The Project Gutenberg Book of
+           Born in Slavery: Slave Narratives from the Federal Writers' Project, 1936-1938:
+           Georgia Narratives, Volume IV, Part 3
+    </title>
+    <meta name="author" content="Federal Writers' Project">
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+
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery
+in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, 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
+       Georgia Narratives, Part 3
+
+Author: Work Projects Administration
+
+Release Date: June 1, 2006 [EBook #18484]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: A FOLK ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Reda and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by the Library of Congress,
+Manuscript Division)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.001000" id="v.043p.001000"></a> </span>
+
+<p>[TR: ***] = Transcriber Note<br/>
+[HW: ***] = Handwritten Note<br />
+[nnn] = 3-digit page number</p>
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<h1>SLAVE NARRATIVES</h1>
+
+<h2><i>A Folk History of Slavery in the United States<br />
+From Interviews with Former Slaves</i></h2>
+
+
+<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>
+
+
+<h4><i>Illustrated with Photographs</i></h4>
+
+
+<h3>WASHINGTON 1941</h3>
+<br />
+
+<h2>VOLUME IV</h2>
+
+<h2>GEORGIA NARRATIVES</h2>
+
+<h2>PART 3</h2>
+
+
+<h3>Prepared by<br />
+the Federal Writers' Project of<br />
+the Works Progress Administration<br />
+for the State of Georgia</h3>
+<br /><hr /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.003000" id="v.043p.003000"></a> </span>
+
+<h2>INFORMANTS</h2>
+
+<ul class="toc">
+  <li><a href="#KendricksJennie">Kendricks, Jennie</a><span class="ralign">1</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#KilpatrickEmmaline">Kilpatrick, Emmaline</a><span class="ralign">8</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#KimbroughFrances">Kimbrough, Frances</a><span class="ralign">14</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#KingCharlie">King, Charlie</a><span class="ralign">16</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#KinneyNicey">Kinney, Nicey</a><span class="ralign">21</span></li>
+  <li><br /></li>
+  <li><a href="#LarkenJulia">Larken, Julia</a><span class="ralign">34</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#LewisGeorge">Lewis, George</a><span class="ralign">47</span></li>
+  <li><br /></li>
+  <li><a href="#McCommonsMirriam">McCommons, Mirriam</a><span class="ralign">51</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#McCreeEd">McCree, Ed</a><span class="ralign">56</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#McCulloughLucy">McCullough, Lucy</a><span class="ralign">66</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#McDanielAmanda">McDaniel, Amanda</a><span class="ralign">71</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#McGruderTom">McGruder, Tom</a><span class="ralign">76</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#McIntoshSusan">McIntosh, Susan</a><span class="ralign">78</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#McKinneyMatilda">McKinney, Matilda</a><span class="ralign">88</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#McWhorterWilliam">McWhorter, William</a><span class="ralign">91</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#MaloneMolly">Malone, Mollie</a><span class="ralign">104</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#MasonCarrie">Mason, Charlie</a><span class="ralign">108</span></li>
+  <li>&nbsp;<span class="ralign">[TR: In the interview, Aunt Carrie Mason]</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#MatthewsSusan">Matthews, Susan</a><span class="ralign">115</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#MaysEmily">Mays, Emily</a><span class="ralign">118</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#MentionLiza">Mention, Liza</a><span class="ralign">121</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#MillerHarriet">Miller, Harriet</a><span class="ralign">126</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#MitchellMollie">Mitchell, Mollie</a><span class="ralign">133</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#MobleyBob">Mobley, Bob</a><span class="ralign">136</span></li>
+  <li><br /></li>
+  <li><a href="#NixFanny">Nix, Fanny</a><span class="ralign">139</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#NixHenry">Nix, Henry</a><span class="ralign">143</span></li>
+  <li><br /></li>
+  <li><a href="#OgletreeLewis">Ogletree, Lewis</a><span class="ralign">146</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#OrfordRichard">Orford, Richard</a><span class="ralign">149</span></li>
+  <li><br /></li>
+  <li><a href="#ParkesAnna">Parkes, Anna</a><span class="ralign">153</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#PattillioGW">Pattillio, G.W.</a><span class="ralign">165</span></li>
+  <li>&nbsp;<span class="ralign">[TR: In the interview, G.W. Pattillo]</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#PopeAlec">Pope, Alec</a><span class="ralign">171</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#PriceAnnie">Price, Annie</a><span class="ralign">178</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#PyeCharlie">Pye, Charlie</a><span class="ralign">185</span></li>
+  <li><br /></li>
+  <li><a href="#RainesCharlotte">Raines, Charlotte</a><span class="ralign">189</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#RandolphFanny">Randolph, Fanny</a><span class="ralign">194</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#RichardsShade">Richards, Shade</a><span class="ralign">200</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#RobertsDora">Roberts, Dora</a><span class="ralign">206</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#RogersFerebe">Rogers, Ferebe</a><span class="ralign">209</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#RogersHenry">Rogers, Henry</a><span class="ralign">217</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#RushJulia">Rush, Julia</a><span class="ralign">229</span></li>
+  <li><br /></li>
+  <li><a href="#SettlesNancy">Settles, Nancy</a><span class="ralign">232</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SheetsWill">Sheets, Will</a><span class="ralign">236</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#ShepherdRobert">Shepherd, Robert</a><span class="ralign">245</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SingletonTom">Singleton, Tom</a><span class="ralign">264</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SmithCharlieTye">Smith, Charles</a><span class="ralign">274</span></li>
+  <li>&nbsp;<span class="ralign">[TR: In the interview, Charlie Tye Smith]</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SmithGeorgia">Smith, Georgia</a><span class="ralign">278</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SmithMary">Smith, Mary</a><span class="ralign">285</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SmithMelvin">Smith, Melvin</a><span class="ralign">288</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SmithNancy">Smith, Nancy</a><span class="ralign">295</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SmithNellie">Smith, Nellie</a><span class="ralign">304</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#SmithPaul">Smith, Paul</a><span class="ralign">320</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#StepneyEmeline">Stepney, Emeline</a><span class="ralign">339</span></li>
+  <li><a href="#StylesAmanda">Styles, Amanda</a><span class="ralign">343</span></li>
+</ul>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+<h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>
+
+<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 /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.004001" id="v.043p.004001"></a>[001]</span>
+
+<a name="KendricksJennie"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist 5<br />
+Ex-Slave #63]<br />
+<br />
+Whitley,<br />
+1-22-36<br />
+Driskell<br />
+<br />
+EX SLAVE<br />
+JENNIE KENDRICKS<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Jennie Kendricks, the oldest of 7 children, was born in Sheram, Georgia
+in 1855. Her parents were Martha and Henry Bell. She says that the first
+thing she remembers is being whipped by her mother.</p>
+
+<p>Jennie Kendricks' grandmother and her ten children lived on this
+plantation. The grandmother had been brought to Georgia from Virginia:
+"She used to tell me how the slave dealers brought her and a group of
+other children along much the same as they would a herd of cattle," said
+the ex-slave, "when they reached a town all of them had to dance through
+the streets and act lively so that the chances for selling them would be
+greater".</p>
+
+<p>When asked to tell about Mr. Moore, her owner, and his family Jennie
+Kendricks stated that although her master owned and operated a large
+plantation, he was not considered a wealthy man. He owned only two other
+slaves besides her immediate family and these were men.</p>
+
+<p>"In Mr. Moores family were his mother, his wife, and six children (four
+boys and two girls). This family lived very comfortably in a two storied
+weatherboard house. With the exception of our grandmother who cooked for
+the owner's family and slaves, and assisted her mistress with housework
+all the slaves worked in the fields where they cultivated cotton and the
+corn, as well as the other produce grown there. Every morning at sunrise
+they had to get up and go to the fields where they worked until it was
+too dark to see. At noon each day they were permitted to come to the
+kitchen, located just a short distance in the rear of the master's
+house, where they were served dinner. During the course of the day's
+work the women shared all the men's work except plowing. All of them
+picked cotton when it was time to gather the crops. Some nights they
+were required to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.005002" id="v.043p.005002"></a>[002]</span>
+spin and to help Mrs. Moore, who did all of the
+weaving. They used to do their own personal work, at night also." Jennie
+Kendricks says she remembers how her mother and the older girls would go
+to the spring at night where they washed their clothes and then left
+them to dry on the surrounding bushes.</p>
+
+<p>As a little girl Jennie Kendricks spent all of her time in the master's
+house where she played with the young white children. Sometimes she and
+Mrs. Moore's youngest child, a little boy, would fight because it
+appeared to one that the other was receiving more attention from Mrs.
+Moore than the other. As she grew older she was kept in the house as a
+playmate to the Moore children so she never had to work in the field a
+single day.</p>
+
+<p>She stated that they all wore good clothing and that all of it was made
+on the plantation with one exception. The servants spun the thread and
+Mrs. Moore and her daughters did all of the weaving as well as the
+making of the dresses that were worn on this particular plantation. "The
+way they made this cloth", she continued, "was to wind a certain amount
+of thread known as a "cut" onto a reel. When a certain number of cuts
+were reached they were placed on the loom. This cloth was colored with a
+dye made from the bark of trees or with a dye that was made from the
+indigo berry cultivated on the plantation. The dresses that the women
+wore on working days were made of striped or checked materials while
+those worn on Sunday were usually white."</p>
+
+<p>She does not know what the men wore on work days as she never came in
+contact with them. Stockings for all were knitted on the place. The
+shoes, which were the one exception mentioned above, were made by one
+Bill Jacobs, an elderly white man who made the shoes for all the
+plantations
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.006003" id="v.043p.006003"></a>[003]</span>
+in the community. The grown people wore heavy shoes called
+"Brogans" while those worn by the children were not so heavy and were
+called "Pekers" because of their narrow appearance. For Sunday wear, all
+had shoes bought for this purpose. Mr. Moore's mother was a tailoress
+and at times, when the men were able to get the necessary material, she
+made their suits.</p>
+
+<p>There was always enough feed for everybody on the Moore plantation. Mrs.
+Moore once told Jennie's mother to always see that her children had
+sufficient to eat so that they would not have to steal and would
+therefore grow up to be honorable. As the Grandmother did all of the
+cooking, none of the other servants ever had to cook, not even on
+Sundays or other holidays such as the Fourth of July. There was no stove
+in this plantation kitchen, all the cooking was done at the large
+fireplace where there were a number of hooks called potracks. The pots,
+in which the cooking was done, hung from these hooks directly over the
+fire.</p>
+
+<p>The meals served during the week consisted of vegetables, salt bacon,
+corn bread, pot liquor, and milk. On Sunday they were served milk,
+biscuits, vegetables, and sometimes chicken. Jennie Kendricks ate all of
+her meals in the master's house and says that her food was even better.
+She was also permitted to go to the kitchen to get food at any time
+during the day. Sometimes when the boys went hunting everyone was given
+roast 'possum and other small game. The two male slaves were often
+permitted to accompany them but were not allowed to handle the guns.
+None of the slaves had individual gardens of their own as food
+sufficient for their needs was raised in the master's garden.</p>
+
+<p>The houses that they lived in were one-roomed structures made of heavy
+plank instead of logs, with planer [HW: ?] floors. At one end of this
+one-roomed cabin there was a large chimney and fireplace made of rocks,
+mud,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.007004" id="v.043p.007004"></a>[004]</span>
+and dirt. In addition to the one door, there was a window at the
+back. Only one family could live in a cabin as the space was so limited.
+The furnishings of each cabin consisted of a bed and one or two chairs.
+The beds were well constructed, a great deal better than some of the
+beds the ex-slave saw during these days. Regarding mattresses she said,
+"We took some tick and stuffed it with cotton and corn husks, which had
+been torn into small pieces and when we got through sewing it looked
+like a mattress that was bought in a store."</p>
+
+<p>Light was furnished by lightwood torches and sometimes by the homemade
+tallow candles. The hot tallow was poured into a candle mold, which was
+then dipped into a pan of cold water, when the tallow had hardened, the
+finished product was removed.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever there was sickness, a doctor was always called. As a child
+Gussie was rather sickly, and a doctor was always called to attend to
+her. In addition to the doctor's prescriptions there was heart leaf tea
+and a warm remedy of garlic tea prepared by her grandmother.</p>
+
+<p>If any of the slaves ever pretended sickness to avoid work, she knows
+nothing about it.</p>
+
+<p>As a general rule, slaves were not permitted to learn to read or write,
+but the younger Moore children tried to teach her to spell, read, and
+write. When she used to stand around Mrs. Moore when she was sewing she
+appeared to be interested and so she was taught to sew.</p>
+
+<p>Every Sunday afternoon they were all permitted to go to town where a
+colored pastor preached to them. This same minister performed all
+marriages after the candidates had secured the permission of the master.</p>
+
+<p>There was only one time when Mr. Moore found it necessary to sell any of
+his slaves. On this occasion he had to sell two; he saw that they were
+sold to another kind master.</p>
+
+<p>The whipping on most plantation were administered by the [HW: over]seers
+and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.008005" id="v.043p.008005"></a>[005]</span>
+in some cases punishment was rather severe. There was no overseer on
+this plantation. Only one of Mr. Moore's sons told the field hands what
+to do. When this son went to war it became necessary to hire an
+overseer. Once he attempted to whip one of the women but when she
+refused to allow him to whip her he never tried to whip any of the
+others. Jennie Kendricks' husband, who was also a slave, once told her
+his master was so mean that he often whipped his slaves until blood ran
+in their shoes.</p>
+
+<p>There was a group of men, known as the "Patter-Rollers", whose duty it
+was to see that slaves were not allowed to leave their individual
+plantations without passes which [HW: they] were supposed to receive
+from their masters. "A heap of them got whippings for being caught off
+without these passes," she stated, adding that "sometimes a few of them
+were fortunate enough to escape from the Patter-Rollers". She knew of
+one boy who, after having outrun the "Patter-Rollers", proceeded to make
+fun of them after he was safe behind his master's fence. Another man
+whom the Patter-Rollers had pursued any number of times but who had
+always managed to escape, was finally caught one day and told to pray
+before he was given his whipping. As he obeyed he noticed that he was
+not being closely observed, whereupon he made a break that resulted in
+his escape from them again.</p>
+
+<p>The treatment on some of the other plantations was so severe that slaves
+often ran away, Jennie Kendricks told of one man [HW: who was] [TR:
+"being" crossed out] lashed [HW: and who] ran away but was finally
+caught. When his master brought him back he was locked in a room until
+he could be punished. When the master finally came to administer the
+whipping, Lash had cut his own throat in a last effort to secure his
+freedom. He was not successful; his life was saved by quick action on
+the part of his master. Sometime later after rough handling Lash finally
+killed his master [HW: and] was burned at the stake for this crime.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.009006" id="v.043p.009006"></a>[006]</span>
+
+<p>Other slaves were more successful at escape, some being able to remain
+away for as long as three years at a time. At nights, they slipped to
+the plantation where they stole hogs and other food. Their shelters were
+usually caves, some times holes dug in the ground. Whenever they were
+caught, they were severely whipped.</p>
+
+<p>A slave might secure his freedom without running away. This is true in
+the case of Jennie Kendricks' grandfather who, after hiring his time out
+for a number of years, was able to save enough money with which to
+purchase himself from his master.</p>
+
+<p>Jennie Kendricks remembers very little of the talk between her master
+and mistress concerning the war. She does remember being taken to see
+the Confederate soldiers drill a short distance from the house. She says
+"I though it was very pretty, 'course I did'nt know what was causing
+this or what the results would be". Mr. Moore's oldest sons went to war
+[HW: but he] himself did not enlist until the war was nearly over. She
+was told that the Yankee soldiers burned all the gin houses and took all
+live stock that they saw while on the march, but no soldiers passed near
+their plantation.</p>
+
+<p>After the war ended and all the slaves had been set free, some did not
+know it, [HW: as] they were not told by their masters. [HW: A number of
+them] were tricked into signing contracts which bound them to their
+masters for several years longer.</p>
+
+<p>As for herself and her grandmother, they remained on the Moore property
+where her grandmother finally died. Her mother moved away when freedom
+was declared and started working for someone else. It was about this
+time that Mr. Moore began to prosper, he and his brother Marvin gone
+into business together.</p>
+
+<p>According to Jennie Kendricks, she has lived to reach such a ripe old
+age because she has always been obedient and because she has always
+been
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.010007" id="v.043p.010007"></a>[007]</span>
+a firm believer in God.</p>
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.011008" id="v.043p.011008"></a>[008]</span>
+
+<h3><a name="KilpatrickEmmaline"></a>
+[HW: Dist 1<br />
+Ex-Slave #62]<br />
+<br />
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:<br />
+EMMALINE KILPATRICK, Age 74<br />
+Born a slave on the plantation of<br />
+Judge William Watson Moore,<br />
+White Plains, (Greene County) Georgia<br />
+<br />
+BY: SARAH H. HALL<br />
+ATHENS, GA.<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.012009" id="v.043p.012009"></a>[009]</span>
+
+<p>One morning in October, as I finished planting hyacinth bulbs on my
+cemetery lot, I saw an old negro woman approaching. She was Emmaline
+Kilpatrick, born in 1863, on my grandfather's plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"Mawnin' Miss Sarah," she began, "Ah seed yer out hyar in de graveyard,
+en I cum right erlong fer ter git yer ter read yo' Aunt Willie's
+birthday, offen her toomstone, en put it in writin' fer me."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind doing that for you, Emmaline," I replied, "but why do you
+want to know my aunt's birthday?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," answered the old ex-slave, "I can't rightly tell mah age no
+udder way. My mammy, she tole me, I wuz bawned de same night ez Miss
+Willie wuz, en mammy allus tole me effen I ever want ter know how ole I
+is, jes' ask my white folks how ole Miss Willie is."</p>
+
+<p>When I had pencilled the birthdate on a scrap of paper torn from my note
+book and she had tucked it carefully away in a pocket in her clean blue
+checked gingham apron, Emmaline began to talk of the old days on my
+grandfather's farm.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Sarah, Ah sho did love yo' aunt Willie. We wuz chilluns growin' up
+tergedder on Marse Billie's place. You mought not know it, but black
+chilluns gits grown heap faster den white chilluns, en whilst us played
+'round de yard, en orchards, en pastures out dar, I wuz sposed ter take
+care er Miss Willie en not let her git hurt, er nuthin' happen ter her."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.013010" id="v.043p.013010"></a>[010]</span>
+
+<p>"My mammy say dat whan Marse Billie cum hom' frum de War, he call all
+his niggers tergedder en tell 'am dey is free, en doan b'long ter nobody
+no mo'. He say dat eny uf 'um dat want to, kin go 'way and live whar dey
+laks, en do lak dey wanter. Howsome ebber, he do say effen enybody wants
+ter stay wid him, en live right on in de same cabins, dey kin do it,
+effen dey promise him ter be good niggers en mine him lak dey allus
+done."</p>
+
+<p>"Most all de niggers stayed wid Marse Billie, 'ceppen two er thee brash,
+good fer nuthin's."</p>
+
+<p>Standing there in the cemetery, as I listened to old Emmaline tell of
+the old days, I could see cotton being loaded on freight cars at the
+depot. I asked Emmaline to tell what she could remember of the days whan
+we had no railroad to haul the cotton to market.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she said, "Fore dis hyar railroad wuz made, dey hauled de cotton
+ter de Pint (She meant Union Point) en sold it dar. De Pint's jes' 'bout
+twelve miles fum hyar. Fo' day had er railroad thu de Pint, Marse Billie
+used ter haul his cotton clear down ter Jools ter sell it. My manny say
+dat long fo' de War he used ter wait twel all de cotton wuz picked in de
+fall, en den he would have it all loaded on his waggins. Not long fo'
+sundown he wud start de waggins off, wid yo' unker Anderson bossin' 'em,
+on de all night long ride towards Jools. 'Bout fo' in de mawnin' Marse
+Billie en yo' grammaw, Miss Margie, 'ud start off in de surrey, driving
+de bays, en fo' dem waggins git ter Jools Marse Billie done cotch up wid
+em. He drive er head en lead em on ter de cotton mill in Jools, whar he
+sell all his cotton. Den him en Miss Margie, dey go ter de mill sto' en
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.014011" id="v.043p.014011"></a>[011]</span>
+buy white sugar en udder things dey doan raise on de plantation, en load
+'em on de waggins en start back home."</p>
+
+<p>"But Emmaline," I interrupted, "Sherman's army passed through Jewels and
+burned the houses and destroyed the property there. How did the people
+market their cotton then?"</p>
+
+<p>Emmaline scratched her head. "Ah 'members somepin 'bout dat," she
+declared. "Yassum, I sho' does 'member my mammy sayin' dat folks sed
+when de Fed'rals wuz bunnin' up evvy thing 'bout Jools, dey wuz settin'
+fire ter de mill, when de boss uv dem sojers look up en see er sign up
+over er upstairs window. Hit wuz de Mason's sign up day, kaze dat wuz de
+Mason's lodge hall up over de mill. De sojer boss, he meks de udder
+sojers put out de fire. He say him er Mason hisself en he ain' gwine see
+nobuddy burn up er Masonic Hall. Dey kinder tears up some uv de fixin's
+er de Mill wuks, but dey dassent burn down de mill house kaze he ain't
+let 'em do nuthin' ter de Masonic Hall. Yar knows, Miss Sarah, Ah wuz
+jes' 'bout two years ole when dat happen, but I ain't heered nuffin'
+'bout no time when dey didden' take cotton ter Jools ever year twel de
+railroad come hyar."</p>
+
+<p>"Did yer ax me who mah'ed my maw an paw? Why, Marse Billie did, cose he
+did! He wuz Jedge Moore, Marse Billie wuz, en he wone gwine hev no
+foolis'mant 'mongst 'is niggers. Fo' de War en durin' de War, de niggers
+went ter de same church whar dare white folks went. Only de niggers, dey
+set en de gallery."</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Billie made all his niggers wuk moughty hard, but he sho' tuk
+good keer uv 'em. Miss Margie allus made 'em send fer her when de
+chilluns wuz bawned in de slave cabins. My mammy, she say, Ise 'bout de
+onliest slave baby Miss Margie diden' look after de bawnin, on dat
+plantation. When any nigger on dat farm wuz sick, Marse Billie
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.015012" id="v.043p.015012"></a>[012]</span>
+seed dat
+he had medicine an lookin' atter, en ef he wuz bad sick Marse Billie had
+da white folks doctor come see 'bout 'im."</p>
+
+<p>"Did us hev shoes? Yas Ma'am us had shoes. Dat wuz all ole Pegleg wuz
+good fer, jes ter mek shoes, en fix shoes atter dey wuz 'bout ter give
+out. Pegleg made de evvy day shoes for Marse Billie's own chilluns,
+'cept now en den Marse Billie fetched 'em home some sto' bought shoes
+fun Jools."</p>
+
+<p>"Yassum, us sho' wuz skeered er ghosts. Dem days when de War won't long
+gone, niggers sho' wus skert er graveyards. Mos' evvy nigger kep' er
+rabbit foot, kaze ghosties wone gwine bodder nobuddy dat hed er lef'
+hind foot frum er graveyard rabbit. Dem days dar wuz mos' allus woods
+'round de graveyards, en it uz easy ter ketch er rabbit az he loped
+outer er graveyard. Lawsy, Miss Sarah, dose days Ah sho' wouldn't er
+been standin' hyar in no graveyard talkin' ter ennybody, eben in wide
+open daytime."</p>
+
+<p>"En you ax wuz dey enny thing else uz wuz skert uv? Yassum, us allus did
+git moughty oneasy ef er scritch owl hollered et night. Pappy ud hop
+right out er his bed en stick de fire shovel en de coals. Effen he did
+dat rat quick, an look over 'is lef' shoulder whilst de shovel gittin'
+hot, den maybe no no nigger gwine die dat week on dat plantation. En us
+nebber did lak ter fine er hawse tail hair en de hawse trough, kaze us
+wuz sho' ter meet er snake fo' long."</p>
+
+<p>"Yassum, us had chawms fer heap er things. Us got 'em fum er ole Injun
+'oman dat lived crost de crick. Her sold us chawms ter mek de mens lak
+us, en chawms dat would git er boy baby, er anudder kind er chawms effen
+yer want er gal baby. Miss Margie allus scold 'bout de chawns, en mek us
+shamed ter wear 'em, 'cept she doan mine ef us wear asserfitidy chawms
+ter keep off fevers, en she doan say nuffin when my
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.016013" id="v.043p.016013"></a>[013]</span>
+mammy wear er nutmeg
+on a wool string 'round her neck ter keep off de rheumatiz.</p>
+
+<p>"En is you got ter git on home now, Miss Sarah? Lemme tote dat hoe en
+trowel ter yer car fer yer. Yer gwine ter take me home in yer car wid
+yer, so ez I kin weed yer flower gyarden fo' night? Yassum, I sho' will
+be proud ter do it fer de black dress you wo' las' year. Ah gwine ter
+git evvy speck er grass outer yo' flowers, kaze ain' you jes' lak yo'
+grammaw&mdash;my Miss Margie."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.017014" id="v.043p.017014"></a>[014]</span>
+
+<a name="KimbroughFrances"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist 6<br />
+Ex Slave #65]<br />
+<br />
+J.R. Jones<br />
+<br />
+FRANCES KIMBROUGH, EX-SLAVE<br />
+Place of birth: On Kimbrough plantation, Harries County,<br />
+near Cataula, Georgia<br />
+Date of birth: About 1854<br />
+Present residence: 1639-5th Avenue, Columbus, Georgia<br />
+Interviewed: August 7, 1936<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 --]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<p>"Aunt Frances" story reveals that, her young "marster" was Dr. Jessie
+Kimbrough&mdash;a man who died when she was about eighteen years of age. But
+a few weeks later, while working in the field one day, she saw "Marse
+Jessie's" ghost leaning against a pine "watchin us free Niggers wuckin."</p>
+
+<p>When she was about twenty-two years of age, "a jealous Nigger oman"
+"tricked" her. The "spell" cast by this "bad oman" affected the victim's
+left arm and hand. Both became numb and gave her great "misery". A
+peculiar feature of this visitation of the "conjurer's" spite was: if a
+friend or any one massaged or even touched the sufferer's afflicted arm
+or hand, that person was also similarly stricken the following day,
+always recovering, however, on the second day.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, "Aunt" Frances got in touch with a "hoodoo" doctor, a man who
+lived in Muscogee County&mdash;about twenty-five miles distant from her. This
+man paid the patient one visit, then gave her
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.018015" id="v.043p.018015"></a>[015]</span>
+absent treatment for
+several weeks, at the end of which time she recovered the full use of
+her arm and hand. Neither ever gave her any trouble again.</p>
+
+<p>For her old-time "white fokes", "Aunt" Frances entertains an almost
+worshipful memory. Also, in her old age, she reflects the superstitious
+type of her race.</p>
+
+<p>Being so young when freedom was declared, emancipation did not have as
+much significance for "Aunt" Frances as it did for the older colored
+people. In truth, she had no true conception of what it "wuz all about"
+until several years later. But she does know that she had better food
+and clothes before the slaves were freed than she had in the years
+immediately following.</p>
+
+<p>She is deeply religious, as most ex-slaves are, but&mdash;as typical of the
+majority of aged Negroes&mdash;associates "hants" and superstition with her
+religion.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.019016" id="v.043p.019016"></a>[016]</span>
+
+<a name="KingCharlie"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist 6<br />
+Ex-Slave #64]<br />
+<br />
+Mary A. Crawford<br />
+Re-Search Worker<br />
+<br />
+CHARLIE KING&mdash;EX-SLAVE<br />
+Interviewed<br />
+435 E. Taylor Street, Griffin, Georgia<br />
+September 16, 1936</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Charlie was born in Sandtown, (now Woodbury) Meriwether County, Georgia,
+eighty-five or six years ago. He does not know his exact age because his
+"age got burned up" when the house in which his parents lived was burned
+to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>The old man's parents, Ned and Ann King, [TR: "were slaves of" crossed
+out] Mr. John King, who owned a big plantation near Sandtown [TR: "also
+about two hundred slaves" crossed out]. [TR: HW corrections are too
+faint to read.]</p>
+
+<p>Charlie's parents were married by the "broom stick ceremony." The Master
+and Mistress were present at the wedding. The broom was laid down on the
+floor, the couple held each other's hands and stepped backward over it,
+then the Master told the crowd that the couple were man and wife.</p>
+
+<p>This marriage lasted for over fifty years and they "allus treated each
+other right."</p>
+
+<p>Charlie said that all the "Niggers" on "ole Master's place" had to work,
+"even chillun over seven or eight years of age."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.020017" id="v.043p.020017"></a>[017]</span>
+
+<p>The first work that Charlie remembered was "toting cawn" for his mother
+"to drap", and sweeping the yards up at the "big house". He also recalls
+that many times when he was in the yard at the "big house", "Ole Miss"
+would call him in and give him a buttered biscuit.</p>
+
+<p>The Master and Mistress always named the Negro babies and usually gave
+them Bible names.</p>
+
+<p>When the Negroes were sick, "Ole Master" and "Ole Miss" did the
+doctoring, sometimes giving them salts or oil, and if [HW: a Negro]
+refused it, they used the raw hide "whup."</p>
+
+<p>When a member of a Negro family died, the master permitted all the
+Negroes to stop work and go to the funeral. The slave was buried in the
+slave grave yard. Sometimes a white minister read the Bible service, but
+usually a Negro preacher [HW: "officiated"].</p>
+
+<p>The Negroes on this plantation had to work from sun up till sun down,
+except Saturday and Sunday; those were free.</p>
+
+<p>The master blew on a big conch shell every morning at four o'clock, and
+when the first long blast was heard the lights "'gin to twinkle in every
+"Nigger" cabin." Charlie, chuckling, recalled that "ole Master" blowed
+that shell so it could-a-been heard for five miles." Some of the
+"Niggers" went to feed the mules and horses, some to milk the cows, some
+to cook the breakfast in the big house,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.021018" id="v.043p.021018"></a>[018]</span>
+some to chop the wood, while
+others were busy cleaning up the "big house."</p>
+
+<p>When asked if he believed in signs, Charlie replied: "I sho does for dis
+reason. Once jest befo my baby brother died, ole screech owl, he done
+come and set up in the big oak tree right at the doah by de bed and fo'
+the next twelve hours passed, my brother was dead. Screech owls allus
+holler 'round the house before death."</p>
+
+<p>The slaves always had plenty to eat and wear, and therefore did not know
+what it was to be hungry.</p>
+
+<p>The Master planted many acres of cotton, corn, wheat, peas, and all
+kinds of garden things. Every "Nigger family was required to raise
+plenty of sweet potatoes, the Master giving them a patch." "My 'ole
+Master' trained his smartest 'Niggers' to do certain kinds of work. My
+mother was a good weaver, and [HW: she] wove all the cloth for her own
+family, and bossed the weaving of all the other weavers on the
+plantation."</p>
+
+<p>Charlie and all of his ten brothers and sisters helped to card and spin
+the cotton for the looms. Sometimes they worked all night, Charlie often
+going to sleep while carding, when his mother would crack him on the
+head with the carder handle and wake him up. Each child had a night for
+carding and spinning, so they all would get a chance to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Every Saturday night, the Negroes had a "breakdown," often
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.022019" id="v.043p.022019"></a>[019]</span>
+dancing all
+night long. About twelve o'clock they had a big supper, everybody
+bringing a box of all kinds of good things to eat, and putting it on a
+long table.</p>
+
+<p>On Sunday, all the darkies had to go to church. Sometimes the Master had
+a house on his plantation for preaching, and sometimes the slaves had to
+go ten or twelve miles to preaching. When they went so far the slaves
+could use 'ole' Master's' mules and wagons.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie recalls very well when the Yankees came through. The first thing
+they did when they reached 'ole Master's' place was to break open the
+smokehouse and throw the best hams and shoulders out to the darkies, but
+as soon as the Yankees passed, the white folks made the "Niggers" take
+"all dey had'nt et up" back to the smokehouse. "Yes, Miss, we had plenty
+of liquor. Ole Master always kept kegs of it in the cellar and big
+'Jimmy-john's' full in the house, and every Saturday night he'd give us
+darkies a dram, but nobody nevah seed no drunk Nigger lak dey does now."</p>
+
+<p>Charlie's mother used to give her "chillun" "burnt whiskey" every
+morning "to start the day off." This burnt whiskey gave them "long
+life".</p>
+
+<p>Another thing that Charlie recalls about the Yankees coming
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.023020" id="v.043p.023020"></a>[020]</span>
+through, was
+that they took the saddles off their "old sore back horses", turned them
+loose, and caught some of Master's fine "hosses", threw the saddles over
+them and rode away.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie said though "ole Marster" "whupped" when it was necessary, but
+he was not "onmerciful" like some of the other "ole Marsters" were, but
+the "paterolers would sho lay it on if they caught a Nigger off his home
+plantation without a pass." The passes were written statements or
+permits signed by the darkies' owner, or the plantation overseer.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie is very feeble and unable to work. The Griffin Relief
+Association [TR: "furnishes him his sustenance" crossed out, "sees to
+him" or possibly "supports him" written in.]</p>
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.024021" id="v.043p.024021"></a>[021]</span>
+
+<a name="KinneyNicey"></a>
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br />
+NICEY KINNEY, Age 86<br />
+R.F.D. #3<br />
+Athens, Ga.<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Miss Grace McCune<br />
+Athens<br />
+<br />
+Edited by:<br />
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br />
+Athens<br />
+and<br />
+John N. Booth<br />
+District Supervisor<br />
+Federal Writers' Proj.<br />
+Res. 6 &amp; 7<br />
+Augusta, Ga.<br />
+<br />
+Sept. 28, 1938</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.025022" id="v.043p.025022"></a>[022]</span>
+
+<p>A narrow path under large water oaks led through a well-kept yard where
+a profusion of summer flowers surrounded Nicey Kinney's two-story frame
+house. The porch floor and a large portion of the roof had rotted down,
+and even the old stone chimney at one end of the structure seemed to
+sag. The middle-aged mulatto woman who answered the door shook her head
+when asked if she was Nicey Kinney. "No, mam," she protested, "but dat's
+my mother and she's sick in bed. She gits mighty lonesome lyin' dar in
+de bed and she sho does love to talk. Us would be mighty proud if you
+would come in and see her."</p>
+
+<p>Nicey was propped up in bed and, although the heat of the September day
+was oppressive, the sick woman wore a black shoulder cape over her thick
+flannel nightgown; heavy quilts and blankets were piled close about her
+thin form, and the window at the side of her bed was tightly closed. Not
+a lock of her hair escaped the nightcap that enveloped her head. The
+daughter removed an empty food tray and announced, "Mammy, dis lady's
+come to see you and I 'spects you is gwine to lak her fine 'cause she
+wants to hear 'bout dem old days dat you loves so good to tell about."
+Nicey smiled. "I'se so glad you come to see me," she said, "'cause I
+gits so
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.026023" id="v.043p.026023"></a>[023]</span>
+lonesome; jus' got to stay here in dis bed, day in and day out.
+I'se done wore out wid all de hard wuk I'se had to do, and now I'se a
+aged 'oman, done played out and sufferin' wid de high blood pressur'.
+But I kin talk and I does love to bring back dem good old days a-fore de
+war."</p>
+
+<p>Newspapers had been pasted on the walls of Nicey's room. In one corner
+an enclosed staircase was cut off from the room by a door at the head of
+the third step; the space underneath the stair was in use as a closet.
+The marble topped bureau, two double beds, a couple of small tables, and
+some old chairs were all of a period prior to the current century. A pot
+of peas was perched on a pair of "firedogs" over the coals of a wood
+fire in the open fireplace. On a bed of red coals a thick iron pan held
+a large pone of cornbread, and the tantalizing aroma of coffee drew
+attention to a steaming coffeepot on a trivet in one corner of the
+hearth. Nicey's daughter turned the bread over and said, "Missy, I jus'
+bet you ain't never seed nobody cookin' dis way. Us is got a stove back
+in de kitchen, but our somepin t'eat seems to taste better fixed dis
+'way; it brings back dem old days when us was chillun and all of us was
+at home wid mammy." Nicey grinned. "Missy," she said, "Annie&mdash;dat's dis
+gal of mine here&mdash;laughs at de way I laks dem old ways of livin', but
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.027024" id="v.043p.027024"></a>[024]</span>
+she's jus' as bad 'bout 'em as I is, 'specially 'bout dat sort of
+cookin'; somepin t'eat cooked in dat old black pot is sho good.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Gerald Sharp and his wife, Miss Annie, owned us and, Child, dey
+was grand folks. Deir old home was 'way up in Jackson County 'twixt
+Athens and Jefferson. Dat big old plantation run plumb back down to de
+Oconee River. Yes, mam, all dem rich river bottoms was Marse Gerald's.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy's name was Ca'line and she b'longed to Marse Gerald, but Marse
+Hatton David owned my daddy&mdash;his name was Phineas. De David place warn't
+but 'bout a mile from our plantation and daddy was 'lowed to stay wid
+his fambly most evvy night; he was allus wid us on Sundays. Marse Gerald
+didn't have no slaves but my mammy and her chillun, and he was sho
+mighty good to us.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Gerald had a nice four-room house wid a hall all de way through
+it. It even had two big old fireplaces on one chimbly. No, mam, it
+warn't a rock chimbly; dat chimbly was made out of home-made bricks.
+Marster's fambly had deir cookin' done in a open fireplace lak evvybody
+else for a long time and den jus' 'fore de big war he bought a stove.
+Yes, mam, Marse Gerald bought a cook stove and us felt plumb rich 'cause
+dere warn't many folks dat had stoves back in dem days.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.028025" id="v.043p.028025"></a>[025]</span>
+
+<p>"Mammy lived in de old kitchen close by de big house 'til dere got to be
+too many of us; den Marse Gerald built us a house jus' a little piece
+off from de big house. It was jus' a log house, but Marster had all dem
+cracks chinked tight wid red mud, and he even had one of dem
+franklin-back chimblies built to keep our little cabin nice and warm.
+Why, Child, ain't you never seed none of dem old chimblies? Deir backs
+sloped out in de middle to throw out de heat into de room and keep too
+much of it from gwine straight up de flue. Our beds in our cabin was
+corded jus' lak dem up at de big house, but us slept on straw ticks and,
+let me tell you, dey sho slept good atter a hard days's wuk.</p>
+
+<p>"De bestest water dat ever was come from a spring right nigh our cabin
+and us had long-handled gourds to drink it out of. Some of dem gourds
+hung by de spring all de time and dere was allus one or two of 'em
+hangin' by de side of our old cedar waterbucket. Sho', us had a cedar
+bucket and it had brass hoops on it; dat was some job to keep dem hoops
+scrubbed wid sand to make 'em bright and shiny, and dey had to be clean
+and pretty all de time or mammy would git right in behind us wid a
+switch. Marse Gerald raised all dem long-handled gourds dat us used
+'stid of de tin dippers folks has now, but dem warn't de onliest kinds
+of gourds he growed on his place. Dere was gourds mos' as big as
+waterbuckets, and dey had short handles dat was bent whilst de gourds
+was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.029026" id="v.043p.029026"></a>[026]</span>
+green, so us could hang 'em on a limb of a tree in de shade to keep
+water cool for us when us was wukin' in de field durin' hot weather.</p>
+
+<p>"I never done much field wuk 'til de war come on, 'cause Mistess was
+larnin' me to be a housemaid. Marse Gerald and Miss Annie never had no
+chillun 'cause she warn't no bearin' 'oman, but dey was both mighty fond
+of little folks. On Sunday mornin's mammy used to fix us all up nice and
+clean and take us up to de big house for Marse Gerald to play wid. Dey
+was good christian folks and tuk de mostest pains to larn us chillun how
+to live right. Marster used to 'low as how he had done paid $500 for
+Ca'line but he sho wouldn't sell her for no price.</p>
+
+<p>"Evvything us needed was raised on dat plantation 'cept cotton. Nary a
+stalk of cotton was growed dar, but jus' de same our clothes was made
+out of cloth dat Mistess and my mammy wove out of thread us chillun
+spun, and Mistess tuk a heap of pains makin' up our dresses. Durin' de
+war evvybody had to wear homespun, but dere didn't nobody have no better
+or prettier dresses den ours, 'cause Mistess knowed more'n anybody 'bout
+dyein' cloth. When time come to make up a batch of clothes Mistess would
+say, 'Ca'line holp me git up my things for dyein',' and us would fetch
+dogwood bark, sumach, poison ivy, and sweetgum bark. That poison ivy
+made the best black of anything us ever tried, and Mistess could
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.030027" id="v.043p.030027"></a>[027]</span>
+dye the
+prettiest sort of purple wid sweetgum bark. Cop'ras was used to keep de
+colors from fadin', and she knowed so well how to handle it dat you
+could wash cloth what she had dyed all day long and it wouldn't fade a
+speck.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster was too old to go to de war, so he had to stay home and he sho
+seed dat us done our wuk raisin' somepin t'eat. He had us plant all our
+cleared ground, and I sho has done some hard wuk down in dem old bottom
+lands, plowin', hoein', pullin' corn and fodder, and I'se even cut
+cordwood and split rails. Dem was hard times and evvybody had to wuk.</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes Marse Gerald would be away a week at a time when he went to
+court at Jefferson, and de very last thing he said 'fore he driv off
+allus was, 'Ca'line, you and de chillun take good care of Mistess.' He
+most allus fetched us new shoes when he come back, 'cause he never kept
+no shoemaker man on our place, and all our shoes was store-bought. Dey
+was jus' brogans wid brass toes, but us felt powerful dressed up when us
+got 'em on, 'specially when dey was new and de brass was bright and
+shiny. Dere was nine of us chillun, four boys and five gals. Us gals had
+plain cotton dresses made wid long sleeves and us wore big sunbonnets.
+What would gals say now if dey had to wear dem sort of clothes and do
+wuk lak what us done? Little boys didn't wear nothin'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.031028" id="v.043p.031028"></a>[028]</span>
+but long shirts in
+summertime, but come winter evvybody had good warm clothes made out of
+wool off of Marse Gerald's own sheep, and boys, even little tiny boys,
+had britches in winter.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever see folks shear sheep, Child? Well, it was a sight in dem
+days. Marster would tie a sheep on de scaffold, what he had done built
+for dat job, and den he would have me set on de sheep's head whilst he
+cut off de wool. He sont it to de factory to have it carded into bats
+and us chillun spun de thread at home and mammy and Mistess wove it into
+cloth for our winter clothes. Nobody warn't fixed up better on church
+days dan Marster's Niggers and he was sho proud of dat.</p>
+
+<p>"Us went to church wid our white folks 'cause dere warn't no colored
+churches dem days. None of de churches 'round our part of de country had
+meetin' evvy Sunday, so us went to three diffunt meetin' houses. On de
+fust Sunday us went to Captain Crick Baptist church, to Sandy Crick
+Presbyterian church on second Sundays, and on third Sundays meetin' was
+at Antioch Methodist church whar Marster and Mistess was members. Dey
+put me under de watchkeer of deir church when I was a mighty little gal,
+'cause my white folks sho b'lieved in de church and in livin' for God;
+de larnin' dat dem two
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.032029" id="v.043p.032029"></a>[029]</span>
+good old folks gimme is done stayed right wid me
+all through life, so far, and I aims to live by it to de end. I didn't
+sho 'nough jine up wid no church 'til I was done growed up and had left
+Marse Gerald; den I jined de Cedar Grove Baptist church and was baptized
+dar, and dar's whar I b'longs yit.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster was too old to wuk when dey sot us free, so for a long time us
+jus' stayed dar and run his place for him. I never seed none of dem
+Yankee sojers but one time. Marster was off in Jefferson and while I was
+down at de washplace I seed 'bout 12 men come ridin' over de hill. I was
+sho skeered and when I run and told Mistess she made us all come inside
+her house and lock all de doors. Dem Yankee mens jus' rode on through
+our yard down to de river and stayed dar a little while; den dey turned
+around and rid back through our yard and on down de big road, and us
+never seed 'em no more.</p>
+
+<p>"Soon atter dey was sot free Niggers started up churches of dey own and
+it was some sight to see and hear 'em on meetin' days. Dey would go in
+big crowds and sometimes dey would go to meetin's a fur piece off. Dey
+was all fixed up in deir Sunday clothes and dey walked barfoots wid deir
+shoes acrost deir shoulders to keep 'em from gittin' dirty. Jus' 'fore
+dey got to de church dey stopped and put on deir shoes and den dey was
+ready to git together to hear de preacher.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.033030" id="v.043p.033030"></a>[030]</span>
+
+<p>"Folks don't know nothin' 'bout hard times now, 'specially young folks;
+dey is on de gravy train and don't know it, but dey is headed straight
+for 'struction and perdition; dey's gwine to land in dat burnin' fire if
+dey don't mind what dey's about. Jus' trust in de Lord, Honey, and cast
+your troubles on Him and He'll stay wid you, but if you turns your back
+on Him, den you is lost, plumb gone, jus' as sho as shelled corn.</p>
+
+<p>"When us left Marse Gerald and moved nigh Athens he got a old Nigger
+named Egypt, what had a big fambly, to live on his place and do all de
+wuk. Old Marster didn't last long atter us was gone. One night he had
+done let his farm hands have a big cornshuckin' and had seed dat dey had
+plenty of supper and liquor to go wid it and, as was de custom dem days,
+some of dem Niggers got Old Marster up on deir shoulders and toted him
+up to de big house, singin' as dey went along. He was jus' as gay as dey
+was, and joked de boys. When dey put him down on de big house porch he
+told Old Mistess he didn't want no supper 'cept a little coffee and
+bread, and he strangled on de fust bite. Mistess sont for de doctor but
+he was too nigh gone, and it warn't long 'fore he had done gone into de
+glory of de next world. He was 'bout 95 years old when he died and he
+had sho been
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.034031" id="v.043p.034031"></a>[031]</span>
+a good man. One of my nieces and her husband went dar atter
+Marse Gerald died and tuk keer of Mistess 'til she went home to glory
+too.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy followed Old Mistess to glory in 'bout 3 years. Us was livin' on
+de Johnson place den, and it warn't long 'fore me and George Kinney got
+married. A white preacher married us, but us didn't have no weddin'
+celebration. Us moved to de Joe Langford place in Oconee County, but
+didn't stay dar but one year; den us moved 'crost de crick into Clarke
+County and atter us farmed dar 9 years, us moved on to dis here place
+whar us has been ever since. Plain old farmin' is de most us is ever
+done, but George used to make some mighty nice cheers to sell to de
+white folks. He made 'em out of hick'ry what he seasoned jus' right and
+put rye split bottoms in 'em. Dem cheers lasted a lifetime; when dey got
+dirty you jus' washed 'em good and sot 'em in de sun to dry and dey was
+good as new. George made and sold a lot of rugs and mats dat he made out
+of plaited shucks. Most evvybody kep' a shuck footmat 'fore deir front
+doors. Dem sunhats made out of shucks and bulrushes was mighty fine to
+wear in de field when de sun was hot. Not long atter all ten of our
+chillun was borned, George died out and left me wid dem five boys and
+five gals.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.035032" id="v.043p.035032"></a>[032]</span>
+
+<p>"Some old witch-man conjured me into marryin' Jordan Jackson. Dat's de
+blessed truth, Honey; a fortune-teller is done told me how it was done.
+I didn't want to have nothin' to do wid Jordan 'cause I knowed he was
+jus' a no 'count old drinkin' man dat jus' wanted my land and stuff.
+When he couldn't git me to pay him no heed hisself, he went to a old
+conjure man and got him to put a spell on me. Honey, didn't you know dey
+could do dat back in dem days? I knows dey could, 'cause I never woulda
+run round wid no Nigger and married him if I hadn't been witched by dat
+conjure business. De good Lord sho punishes folks for deir sins on dis
+earth and dat old man what put dat spell on me died and went down to
+burnin' hell, and it warn't long den 'fore de spell left me.</p>
+
+<p>"Right den I showed dat no 'count Jordan Jackson dat I was a good 'oman,
+a powerful sight above him, and dat he warn't gwine to git none of dis
+land what my chillun's daddy had done left 'em. When I jus' stood right
+up to him and showed him he warn't gwine to out whack me, he up and left
+me and I don't even use his name no more 'cause I don't want it in my
+business no way a t'all. Jordan's done paid his debt now since he died
+and went down in dat big old burnin' hell 'long wid de old witch man dat
+conjured me for him.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.036033" id="v.043p.036033"></a>[033]</span>
+
+<p>"Yes, Honey, de Lord done put it on record dat dere is sho a burnin'
+place for torment, and didn't my Marster and Mistess larn me de same
+thing? I sho does thank 'em to dis day for de pains dey tuk wid de
+little Nigger gal dat growed up to be me, tryin' to show her de right
+road to travel. Oh! If I could jus' see 'em one more time, but dey can
+look down from de glory land and see dat I'se still tryin' to follow de
+road dat leads to whar dey is, and when I gits to dat good and better
+world I jus' knows de Good Lord will let dis aged 'oman be wid her dear
+Marster and Mistess all through de time to come.</p>
+
+<p>"Trust God, Honey, and He will lead you home to glory. I'se sho enjoyed
+talkin' to you, and I thanks you for comin'. I'se gwine to ax Him to
+take good keer of you and let you come back to cheer up old Nicey
+again."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.037034" id="v.043p.037034"></a>[034]</span>
+
+<a name="LarkenJulia"></a>
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE<br />
+<br />
+JULIA LARKEN, Age 76<br />
+693 Meigs Street<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 &amp; 7<br />
+Augusta, Georgia</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.038035" id="v.043p.038035"></a>[035]</span>
+
+
+<p>Julia's small three-room cottage is a servant house at the rear of a
+white family's residence. A gate through an old-fashioned picket fence
+led into a spacious yard where dense shade from tall pecan trees was
+particularly inviting after a long walk in the sweltering heat.</p>
+
+<p>An aged mulatto woman was seated on the narrow porch. Her straight white
+hair was arranged in braids, and her faded print dress and enormous
+checked apron were clean and carefully patched. A pair of dark colored
+tennis shoes completed her costume. She arose, tall and erect, to greet
+her visitor. "Yessum, dis here's Julia Larken," she said with a friendly
+smile. "Come right in, Chile, and set here and rest on my nice cool
+porch. I knows you's tired plumb out. You shouldn't be out walkin'
+'round in dis hot sun&mdash;It ain't good for you. It'll make you have brain
+fever 'fore you knows it."</p>
+
+<p>When asked for the story of her life, Julia replied: "Lordy, Chile, did
+you do all dis walkin', hot as it is today, jus' to hear dis old Nigger
+talk? Well, jus' let me tell you, dem days back yonder 'fore de war was
+de happiest time of my whole life.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know much 'bout slavery, 'cause I was jus' a little gal when de
+war ended. I was borned in war times on Marse Payton Sails' plantation,
+way off down in Lincoln County.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.039036" id="v.043p.039036"></a>[036]</span>
+My Ma was borned and bred right dar on
+dat same place. Marster bought my Daddy and his Mammy from Captain
+LeMars, and dey tuk de name of Sails atter dey come to live on his
+place. Mammy's name was Betsy Sails and Daddy was named Sam'l. Dey was
+married soon atter Marster fetched Daddy dar.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere ain't no tellin' how big Marster's old plantation was. His house
+set right on top of a high hill. His plantation road circled 'round dat
+hill two or three times gittin' from de big road to de top of de hill.
+Dere was a great deep well in de yard whar dey got de water for de big
+house. Marster's room was upstairs and had steps on de outside dat come
+down into de yard. On one side of his house was a fine apple orchard, so
+big dat it went all de way down de hill to de big road.</p>
+
+<p>"On de other side of de house was a large gyarden whar us raised
+evvything in de way of good veg'tables; dere was beans, corn, peas,
+turnips, collards, 'taters, and onions. Why dey had a big patch of
+nothin' but onions. Us did love onions. Dere was allus plenty of good
+meat in Marster's big old smokehouse dat stood close by de well.
+Marster, he believed in raisin' heaps of meat. He had cows, hogs, goats,
+and sheep, not to mention his chickens and turkeys.</p>
+
+<p>"All de cloth for slaves' clothes was made at home. Mammy was one of de
+cooks up at de big house, and she made cloth too. Daddy was de shoe man.
+He made de shoes for all de folks on de plantation.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.040037" id="v.043p.040037"></a>[037]</span>
+
+<p>"De log cabins what de slaves lived in was off a piece from de big
+house. Dem cabins had rock chimblies, put together wid red mud. Dere
+warn't no glass in de windows and doors of dem cabins&mdash;jus' plain old
+home-made wooden shutters and doors." Julia laughed as she told of their
+beds. "Us called 'em four posters, and dat's what dey was, but dey was
+jus' plain old pine posties what one of de men on de plantation made up.
+Two posties at de head and two at de foot wid pine rails betwixt 'em was
+de way dey made dem beds. Dere warn't no sto'-bought steel springs dem
+days, not even for de white folks, but dem old cord springs went a long
+ways towards makin' de beds comfortable and dey holped to hold de bed
+together. De four poster beds de white folks slept on was corded too,
+but deir posties warn't made out of pine. Dey used oak and walnut and
+sometimes real mahogany, and dey carved 'em up pretty. Some of dem big
+old posties to de white folkses beds was six inches thick.</p>
+
+<p>"Slaves all et up at de big house in dat long old kitchen. I kin jus'
+see dat kitchen now. It warn't built on to de big house, 'cept it was at
+de end of a big porch dat went from it to de big house. A great big
+fireplace was 'most all de way 'cross one end of dat kitchen, and it had
+racks and cranes for de pots and pans and ovens but, jus' let me tell
+you, our Marster had a cookstove too. Yessum, it was a real sho' 'nough
+iron cookstove. No'm, it warn't 'zactly lak de stoves us
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.041038" id="v.043p.041038"></a>[038]</span>
+uses now. It
+was jus' a long, low stove, widout much laigs, jus' flat on top wid eyes
+to cook on. De oven was at de bottom. Mammy and Grandma Mary was mighty
+proud of dat stove, 'cause dere warn't nobody else 'round dar what had a
+cookstove so us was jus' plumb rich folks.</p>
+
+<p>"Slaves didn't come to de house for dinner when dey was wukin' a fur
+piece off in de fields. It was sont to 'em, and dat was what kilt one of
+my brothers. Whilst it was hot, de cooks would set de bucket of dinner
+on his haid and tell him to run to de field wid it fore it got cold. He
+died wid brain fever, and de doctor said it was from totin' all dem hot
+victuals on his haid. Pore Brudder John, he sho' died out, and ever
+since den I been skeered of gittin' too hot on top of de haid.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was twelve of Mammy's chillun in all, countin' Little Peter who
+died out when he was a baby. De other boys was John, Tramer, Sam'l,
+George, and Scott. De only one of my brothers left now is George,
+leastwise I reckon he's livin' yet. De last 'count I had of him he was
+in Chicago, and he must be 'bout a hundred years old now. De gals was me
+and Mary, 'Merica, Hannah, Betsy, and Emma.</p>
+
+<p>"'Fore Grandma Mary got too old to do all de cookin', Mammy wuked in de
+field. Mammy said she allus woke up early, and she could hear Marster
+when he started gittin' up. She would hurry and git out 'fore he had
+time to call 'em.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.042039" id="v.043p.042039"></a>[039]</span>
+Sometimes she cotch her hoss and rid to the field
+ahead of de others, 'cause Marster never laked for nobody to be late in
+de mornin'. One time he got atter one of his young slaves out in de
+field and told him he was a good mind to have him whupped. Dat night de
+young Nigger was tellin' a old slave 'bout it, and de old man jus'
+laughed and said: 'When Marster pesters me dat way I jus' rise up and
+cuss him out.' Dat young fellow 'cided he would try it out and de next
+time Marster got atter him dey had a rukus what I ain't never gwine to
+forgit. Us was all out in de yard at de big house, skeered to git a good
+breath when us heared Marster tell him to do somepin, 'cause us knowed
+what he was meanin' to do. He didn't go right ahead and mind Marster lak
+he had allus been used to doin'. Marster called to him again, and den
+dat fool Nigger cut loose and he evermore did cuss Marster out. Lordy,
+Chile, Marster jus' fairly tuk de hide off dat Nigger's back. When he
+tried to talk to dat old slave 'bout it de old man laughed and said:
+'Shucks, I allus waits 'til I gits to de field to cuss Marster so he
+won't hear me.'</p>
+
+<p>"Marster didn't have but two boys and one of 'em got kilt in de war. Dat
+sho'ly did hurt our good old Marster, but dat was de onliest diffunce de
+war made on our place. When it was over and dey said us was free, all de
+slaves stayed right on wid de Marster; dat was all dey knowed to do.
+Marster told 'em dey could stay on jus' as long as dey wanted to, and
+dey was right dar on dat hill 'til Marster had done died out and gone to
+Glory.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.043040" id="v.043p.043040"></a>[040]</span>
+
+<p>"Us chillun thought hog killin' time wes de best time of all de year. Us
+would hang 'round de pots whar dey was rendin' up de lard and all day us
+et dem good old browned skin cracklin's and ash roasted 'taters. Marster
+allus kilt from 50 to 60 hogs at a time. It tuk dat much meat to feed
+all de folks dat had to eat from his kitchen. Little chillun never had
+nothin' much to do 'cept eat and sleep and play, but now, jus' let me
+tell you for sho', dere warn't no runnin' 'round nights lak dey does
+now. Not long 'fore sundown dey give evvy slave chile a wooden bowl of
+buttermilk and cornpone and a wooden spoon to eat it wid. Us knowed us
+had to finish eatin' in time to be in bed by de time it got dark.</p>
+
+<p>"Our homespun dresses had plain waisties wid long skirts gathered on to
+'em. In hot weather chillun wore jus' one piece; dat was a plain slip,
+but in cold weather us had plenty of good warm clothes. Dey wove cotton
+and wool together to make warm cloth for our winter clothes and made
+shoes for us to wear in winter too. Marster evermore did believe in
+takin' good keer of his Niggers.</p>
+
+<p>"I kin ricollect dat 'fore dere was any churches right in our
+neighborhood, slaves would walk 8 and 10 miles to church. Dey would git
+up 'way 'fore dawn on meetin' day, so as
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.044041" id="v.043p.044041"></a>[041]</span>
+to git dar on time. Us wouldn't
+wear our shoes on dem long walks, but jus' went barfoots 'til us got
+nearly to de meetin' house. I jus' kin 'member dat, for chillun warn't
+'lowed to try to walk dat fur a piece, but us could git up early in de
+mornin' and see de grown folks start off. Dey was dressed in deir best
+Sunday go-to-meetin' clothes and deir shoes, all shined up, was tied
+together and hung over deir shoulders to keep 'em from gittin' dust on
+'em. [HW in margin: Sunday clothing] Men folks had on plain homespun
+shirts and jeans pants. De jeans what deir pants was made out of was
+homespun too. Some of de 'omans wore homespun dresses, but most of 'em
+had a calico dress what was saved special for Sunday meetin' wear.
+'Omans wore two or three petticoats all ruffled and starched 'til one or
+dem underskirts would stand by itself. Dey went barfoots wid deir shoes
+hung over deir shoulders, jus' lak de mens, and evvy 'oman pinned up her
+dress and evvy one of her petticoats but one to keep 'em from gittin'
+muddy. Dresses and underskirts was made long enough to touch de ground
+dem days. Dey allus went off singin', and us chillun would be wishin'
+for de time when us would be old enough to wear long dresses wid
+starched petticoats and go to meetin'. Us chillun tried our best to stay
+'wake 'til dey got home so us could hear 'em talk 'bout de preachin' and
+singin' and testifyin' for de Lord, and us allus axed how many had done
+jined de church dat day.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.045042" id="v.043p.045042"></a>[042]</span>
+
+<p>"Long 'fore I was old enough to make dat trip on foot, dey built a
+Baptist church nearby. It was de white folkses church, but dey let deir
+own Niggers join dar too, and how us chillun did love to play 'round it.
+No'm, us never broke out no windows or hurt nothin' playin' dar. Us
+warn't never 'lowed to throw no rocks when us was on de church grounds.
+De church was up on top of a high hill and at de bottom of dat hill was
+de creek whar de white folks had a fine pool for baptizin'. Dey had
+wooden steps to go down into it and a long wooden trough leadin' from de
+creek to fill up de pool whenever dere was baptizin' to be done. Dey had
+real sermons in dat church and folks come from miles around to see dem
+baptizin's. White folks was baptized fust and den de Niggers. When de
+time come for to baptize dem Niggers you could hear 'em singin' and
+shoutin' a long ways off.</p>
+
+<p>"It jus' don't seem lak folks has de same sort of 'ligion now dey had
+dem days, 'specially when somebody dies. Den de neighbors all went to de
+house whar de corpse was and sung and prayed wid de fambly. De coffins
+had to be made atter folks was done dead. Dey measured de corpse and
+made de coffin 'cordin'ly. Most of 'em was made out of plain pine wood,
+lined wid black calico, and sometimes dey painted 'em black on de
+outside. Dey didn't have no 'balmers on de plantations so dey couldn't
+keep dead folks out long; dey had to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.046043" id="v.043p.046043"></a>[043]</span>
+bury 'em de very next day atter dey
+died. Dey put de corpse in one wagon and de fambly rode in another, but
+all de other folks walked to de graveyard. When dey put de coffin in de
+grave dey didn't have no sep'rate box to place it in, but dey did lay
+planks 'cross de top of it 'fore de dirt was put in. De preacher said a
+prayer and de folks sung _Harps from de Tomb_. Maybe several months
+later dey would have de funeral preached some Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had all sorts of big doin's at harvest time. Dere was cornshuckin's,
+logrollin's, syrup makin's, and cotton pickin's. Dey tuk time about from
+one big plantation to another. Evvy place whar dey was a-goin' to
+celebrate tuk time off to cook up a lot of tasty eatments, 'specially to
+barbecue plenty of good meat. De Marsters at dem diffunt places allus
+seed dat dere was plenty of liquor passed 'round and when de wuk was
+done and de Niggers et all dey wanted, dey danced and played 'most all
+night. What us chillun laked most 'bout it was de eatin'. What I 'member
+best of all is de good old corn risin' lightbread. Did you ever see any
+of it, Chile? Why, my Mammy and Grandma Mary could bake dat bread so
+good it would jus' melt in your mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy died whilst I was still little and Daddy married again. I guess
+his second wife had a time wid all of us chillun. She tried to be good
+to us, but I was skeered of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.047044" id="v.043p.047044"></a>[044]</span>
+her for a long time atter she come to our
+cabin. She larnt me how to make my dresses, and de fust one I made all
+by myself was a long sight too big for me. I tried it on and was plumb
+sick 'bout it bein' so big, den she said; 'Never mind, you'll grow to
+it.' Let me tell you, I got dat dress off in a hurry 'cause I was 'most
+skeered to death for fear dat if I kept it on it would grow to my skin
+lak I thought she meant. [HW in margin: Humor] I never put dat dress on
+no more for a long time and dat was atter I found out dat she jus' meant
+dat my dress would fit me atter I had growed a little more.</p>
+
+<p>"All us chillun used to pick cotton for Marster, and he bought all our
+clothes and shoes. One day he told me and Mary dat us could go to de
+store and git us a pair of shoes apiece. 'Course us knowed what kind of
+shoes he meant for us to git, but Mary wanted a fine pair of Sunday
+shoes and dat's what she picked out and tuk home. Me, I got brass-toed
+brogans lak Marster meant for us to git. 'Bout half way home Mary put on
+her shoes and walked to de big house in 'em. When Marster seed 'em he
+was sho' mad as a hornet, but it was too late to take 'em back to de
+store atter de shoes had done been wore and was all scratched up.
+Marster fussed: 'Blast your hide, I'm a good mind to thrash you to
+death.' Mary stood dar shakin' and tremblin', but dat's all Marster ever
+said to her 'bout it. Us heared him tell Mist'ess dat dat gal Mary was a
+right smart Nigger.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.048045" id="v.043p.048045"></a>[045]</span>
+
+<p>"Marster had a great big old bull dat was mighty mean. He had real long
+horns, and he could lift de fence railin's down one by one and turn all
+de cows out. Evvy time he got out he would fight us chillun, so Marster
+had to keep him fastened up in de stable. One day when us wanted to play
+in de stable, us turned Old Camel (dat was de bull) out in de pasture.
+He tuk down rails enough wid his horns to let de cows in Marster's fine
+gyarden and dey et it all up. Marster was wuss dan mad dat time, but us
+hid in de barn under some hay 'til he went to bed. Next mornin' he
+called us all up to git our whuppin', but us cried and said us wouldn't
+never do it no more so our good old Marster let us off dat time.</p>
+
+<p>"Lak I done said before, I stayed on dar 'til Marster died, den I
+married Matthew Hartsfield. Lordy, Chile, us didn't have no weddin'. I
+had on a new calico dress and Matthew wore some new blue jeans breeches.
+De Reverend Hargrove, de white folks preacher, married us and nobody
+didn't know nothin' 'bout it 'til it was all over. Us went to Oglethorpe
+County and lived dar 19 years 'fore Matthew died. I wuked wid white
+folks dar 'til I married up wid Ben Larken and us come on here to Athens
+to live. I have done some wuk for 'most all de white folks 'round here.
+Ben's grandpappy was a miller on Potts Creek, nigh Stephens, and
+sometimes Ben used to have to go help him out wid de wuk, atter he got
+old and feeble.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.049046" id="v.043p.049046"></a>[046]</span>
+
+<p>"Dey's all gone now and 'cept for some nieces, I'm left all alone. I kin
+still mind de chillun and even do a little wuk. For dat I do give thanks
+to de Good Lord&mdash;dat he keeps me able to do some wuk.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodbye Chile," said Julia, when her visitor arose to leave. "You must
+be more keerful 'bout walkin' 'round when de sun is too hot. It'll make
+you sick sho'. Folks jus' don't know how to take de right sort of keer
+of deyselves dese days."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.050047" id="v.043p.050047"></a>[047]</span>
+
+<a name="LewisGeorge"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br />
+Ex-Slave #67<br />
+E.F. Driskell<br />
+12/31/36]<br />
+<br />
+[HW: GEORGE LEWIS]<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 2- --]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Mr. George Lewis was born in Pensacola, Florida December 17, 1849. In
+addition to himself and his parents, Sophie and Charles Lewis, there
+were thirteen other children; two of whom were girls. Mr. Lewis (Geo.)
+was the third eldest child.</p>
+
+<p>Although married Mr. Lewis' parents belonged to different owners.
+However, Dr. Brosenhan often allowed his servant to visit his wife on
+the plantation of her owner, Mrs. Caroline Bright.</p>
+
+<p>In regard to work all of the members of the Lewis clan fared very well.
+The father, who belonged to Dr. Brosenhan, was a skilled shipbuilder and
+he was permitted to hire himself out to those needing his services. He
+was also allowed to hire [HW: out] those children belonging to him who
+were old enough to work. He was only required to pay his master and the
+mistress of his children a certain percent of his earnings. On the
+Bright plantation Mrs. Lewis served as maid and as part of her duties
+she had to help with the cooking. Mr. Lewis and his brothers and sisters
+were never required to do very much work. Most of their time was spent
+in playing around in the yard of the big house.</p>
+
+<p>In answer to a query concerning the work requirements of the other
+slaves on this particular plantation Mr. Lewis replied "De sun would
+never ketch dem at de house. By de time it wus up dey had done got to de
+fiel'&mdash;not jes gwine. I've known men to have to wait till it wus bright
+enough to see how to plow without "kivering" the plants up. Dey lef' so
+early in de mornings dat breakfus' had to be sent to dem in de fiel'. De
+chillun was de ones who carried de meals dere. Dis was de first job dat
+I had. All de pails wus put on a long stick an' somebody hold to each
+end of de stick. If de fiel' hands was too far away fum de house at
+dinner time it was sent to dem de same as de breakfus'".</p>
+
+<p>All of the slaves on the plantation were awakened each morning by a
+bugle or a horn which was blown by the overseer. The same overseer gave
+the signal for dinner hour by blowing on the same horn. All were usually
+given one hour for dinner. None had to do any work after leaving the
+fields unless it happened to be personal
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.051048" id="v.043p.051048"></a>[048]</span>
+work. No work other than the
+caring for the stock was required on Sundays.</p>
+
+<p>A few years before the Civil War Mrs. Bright married a Dr. Bennett
+Ferrel and moved to his home in Georgia (Troupe County).</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Lewis states that he and his fellow slaves always had "pretty fair"
+food. Before they moved to Georgia the rations were issued daily and for
+the most part an issue consisted of vegetables, rice, beans, meat
+(pork), all kinds of fish and grits, etc.</p>
+
+<p>"We got good clothes too says Mr. Lewis. All of 'em was bought. All de
+chillun wore a long shirt until dey wus too big an' den dey was given
+pants an' dresses. De shoes wus made out of red leather an' wus called
+brogans. After we moved to Georgia our new marster bought de cloth an'
+had all de clothes made on de plantation. De food wus "pretty fair" here
+too. We got corn bread an' biscuit sometimes&mdash;an' it was sometimes
+too&mdash;bacon, milk, all kinds of vegetables an' sicha stuff like dat. De
+flour dat we made de biscuits out of was de third grade shorts."</p>
+
+<p>The food on Sunday was almost identical with that eaten during the week.
+However, those who desired to were allowed to hunt as much as they
+pleased to at night. They were not permitted to carry guns and so when
+the game was treed the tree had to be cut down in order to get it. It
+was in this way that the family larder was increased.</p>
+
+<p>"All in all", says Mr. Lewis, "we got everything we wanted excep' dere
+wus no money comin' for our work an' we couldn't go off de place unless
+we asked. If you wus caught off your plantation without a permit fum
+marster de Paddy-Rollers whupped you an' sent you home."</p>
+
+<p>The slaves living quarters were located in the rear of the "big house"
+(this was true of the plantation located in Pensacola as well as the one
+in Georgia). All were made of logs and, according to Mr. Lewis, all were
+substantially built. Wooden pegs were used in the place of nails and the
+cracks left in the walls were sealed with mud and sticks. These cabins
+were very comfortable and only one family was allowed to a cabin. All
+floors were of wood. The only furnishings were the beds and one or two
+benches or bales which served as chairs. In some respects these beds
+resembled a scaffold nailed to the side of a house. Others were made of
+heavy wood and had four legs to stand upon. For
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.052049" id="v.043p.052049"></a>[049]</span>
+the most part, however,
+one end of the bed was nailed to the wall. The mattresses were made out
+of any kind of material that a slave could secure, burlap sacks,
+ausenberg, etc. After a large bag had been made with this material it
+was stuffed with straw. Heavy cord running from side to side was used
+for the bed springs. The end of the cord was tied to a handle at the end
+of the bed. This pemitted the occupant to tighten the cord when it
+became loosened. A few cooking utensils completed the furnishings. All
+illumination was secured by means of the door and the open fire place.</p>
+
+<p>All of the slaves on the plantation were permitted to "frolic" whenever
+they wanted to and for as long a time as they wanted to. The master gave
+them all of the whiskey that they desired. One of the main times for a
+frolic was during a corn shucking. At each frolic there was dancing,
+fiddling, and eating. The next morning, however all had to be prepared
+to report as usual to the fields.</p>
+
+<p>All were required to attend church each Sunday. The same church was used
+by the slave owners and their slaves. The owners attended church in the
+morning at eleven o'clock and the slaves attended at three o'clock. A
+white minister did all of the preaching. "De bigges' sermon he
+preached", says Mr. Lewis, "was to read de Bible an' den tell us to be
+smart an' not to steal chickens, eggs, an' butter, fum our marsters."
+All baptising was done by this selfsame minister.</p>
+
+<p>When a couple wished to marry the man secured the permission of his
+intended wife's owner and if he consented, a broom was placed on the
+floor and the couple jumped over it and were then pronounced man and
+wife.</p>
+
+<p>There was not a great deal of whipping on the plantation of Dr. Ferrel
+but at such times all whippings were administered by one of the
+overseers employed on the plantation. Mr. Lewis himself was only whipped
+once and then by the Doctor. This was just a few days before the slaves
+were freed. Mr. Lewis says that the doctor came to the field one morning
+and called him. He told him that they were going to be freed but that
+before he did free him he was going to let him see what it was like to
+be whipped by a white man, and he proceeded to paddle him with a white
+oak paddle.</p>
+
+<p>When there was serious illness the slaves had the attention of Dr.
+Ferrel. On
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.053050" id="v.043p.053050"></a>[050]</span>
+other occasions the old remedy of castor oil and turpentine
+was administered. There was very little sickness then according to Mr.
+Lewis. Most every family kept a large pot of "Bitters" (a mixture of
+whiskey and tree barks) and each morning every member of the family took
+a drink from this bucket. This supposedly prevented illness.</p>
+
+<p>When the war broke out Mr. Lewis says that he often heard the old folks
+whispering among themselves at night. Several times he saw the Northern
+troops as well as the Southern troops but he dos'nt know whether they
+were going or coming from the scene of the fighting. Doctor Ferrel
+joined the army but on three different occasions he deserted. Before
+going to war Dr. Ferrel called Mr. Lewis to him and after giving him his
+favorite horse gave him the following "charge" "Don't let the Yankees
+get him". Every morning Mr. Lewis would take the horse to the woods
+where he hid with him all day. On several occasions Dr. Ferrel slipped
+back to his home to see if the horse was being properly cared for. All
+of the other valuables belongings to the Ferrels were hidden also.</p>
+
+<p>All of the slaves on the plantation were glad when they were told that
+they were free but there was no big demonstration as they were somewhat
+afraid of what the Master might do. Some of them remained on the
+plantation while others of them left as soon as they were told that they
+were free.</p>
+
+<p>Several months after freedom was declared Mr. Lewis' father was able to
+join his family which he had not seen since they had moved to Georgia.</p>
+
+<p>When asked his opinion of slavery and of freedom Mr. Lewis said that he
+would rather be free because to a certain degree he is able to do as he
+pleases, on the other hand he did not have to worry about food and
+shelter as a slave as he has to do now at times.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.054051" id="v.043p.054051"></a>[051]</span>
+
+<a name="McCommonsMirriam"></a>
+<h3>INTERVIEW WITH:<br />
+MIRRIAM McCOMMONS, Age 76<br />
+164 Augusta Avenue<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Miss Grace McCune<br />
+Research Worker<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Edited by:<br />
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br />
+Athens<br />
+<br />
+John N. Booth<br />
+District Supervisor<br />
+Augusta, Georgia<br />
+[Date Stamp: APR 29 1938]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.055052" id="v.043p.055052"></a>[052]</span>
+
+
+<p>It was a bright sunny day when the interviewer stopped at the home of
+Aunt Merry, as she is called, and found her tending her old-fashioned
+flower garden. The old Negress was tired and while resting she talked of
+days long passed and of how things have changed since she was "a little
+gal."</p>
+
+<p>"My pa wuz William Young, and he belonged to old Marse Wylie Young and
+later to young Marse Mack Young, a son of old marster. Pa wuz born in
+1841, and he died in 1918.</p>
+
+<p>"Ma wuz Lula Lumpkin, and she belonged to Marse Jack Lumpkin. I forgits
+de year, but she wuz jus' 38 years old when she died. Ma's young mistis
+wuz Miss Mirriam Lumpkin, and she wuz sho' good ter my ma. I 'members,
+'cause I seed her lots of times. She married Marse William Nichols, and
+she ain't been dead many years.</p>
+
+<p>"I wuz born at Steebens (Stephens), Georgia, in 1862 at seben 'clock in
+de mornin' on de 27th day of April. Yassum, I got here in time for
+breakfast. Dey named me Mirriam Young. When I wuz 'bout eight years old,
+us moved on de Bowling Green road dat runs to Lexin'ton, Georgia. Us
+stayed dar 'til I wuz 'bout 10 years old, den us moved to de old
+Hutchins place. I wukked in de field wid my pa 'til I wuz 'bout 'leben
+years old. Den ma put me out to wuk. I wukked for 25 dollars a year and
+my schoolin'. Den I nussed for Marse George Rice in Hutchins, Georgia. I
+think Marse George and his twin sister stays in Lexin'ton now. When I
+wuz twelve, I went to wuk for Marse John I. Callaway. Ma hired me for de
+same pay, 25 dollars a year and my schoolin'.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.056053" id="v.043p.056053"></a>[053]</span>
+
+<p>"Missus Callaway sho' wuz good to me. Sha larnt me my books&mdash;readin' and
+writin'&mdash;and sewin', knittin', and crochetin'. I still got some of de
+wuk dat she larnt me to do." At this point Aunt Merry proudly displayed
+a number of articles that she had crocheted and knitted. All were
+fashioned after old patterns and showed fine workmanship. "Mistis larnt
+me to be neat and clean in evvything I done, and I would walk 'long de
+road a-knittin' and nebber miss a stitch. I just bet none of dese young
+folkses now days could do dat. Dey sho' don't do no wuk, just run 'round
+all de time, day and night. I don't know what'll 'come of 'em, lessen
+dey change deir ways.</p>
+
+<p>"Whilst I wuz still nussin' Missis' little gal and baby boy dey went
+down to Buffalo Crick to stay, and dey give me a pretty gray mare. She
+wuz all mine and her name wuz Lucy.</p>
+
+<p>"I tuk de chillun to ride evvy day and down at de crick, I pulled off
+dey clo'es and baptized 'em, in de water. I would wade out in de crick
+wid 'em, and say: 'I baptizes you in de name of de Fadder and de Son and
+de Holy Ghost.' Den I would souse 'em under de water. I didn't know
+nobody wuz seein' me, but one mornin' Missis axed me 'bout it and I
+thought she mought be mad but she just laughed and said dat hit mought
+be good for 'em, 'cause she 'spect dey needed baptizin', but to be
+keerful, for just on t'other side of de rock wuz a hole dat didn't have
+no bottom.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere wuz just two things on de place dat I wuz 'fraid of, and one wuz
+de big registered bull dat Marster had paid so much money for. He sho'
+wuz bad, and when he got out, us all stayed in de house 'til dey cotched
+'im. Marster had a big black stallion dat cost lots of money. He wuz bad
+too, but Marster kept 'im shut up most of de
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.057054" id="v.043p.057054"></a>[054]</span>
+time. De wust I ever wuz
+skeert wuz de time I wuz takin' de baby to ride horseback. When one of
+de Nigger boys on de place started off on Marster's horse, my mare
+started runnin' and I couldn't stop 'er. She runned plumb away wid me,
+and when de boy cotched us, I wuz holdin' de baby wid one hand and de
+saddle wid t'other.</p>
+
+<p>"I sho' did have a big time once when us went to Atlanta. De place whar
+us stayed wuz 'bout four miles out, whar Kirkwood is now, and it
+belonged to Mrs. Robert A. Austin. She wuz a widder 'oman. She had a gal
+name' Mary and us chillun used to play together. It wuz a pretty place
+wid great big yards, and de mostes' flowers. Us used to go into Atlanta
+on de six 'clock 'commodation, and come home on de two 'clock
+'commodation, but evvythings changed now.</p>
+
+<p>"At de Callaway place us colored folks had big suppers and all day
+dinners, wid plenty to eat&mdash;chicken, turkey, and 'possum, and all de
+hogs us wanted. But dere warnt no dancin' or fightin', 'cause old Missis
+sho' didn't 'low dat.</p>
+
+<p>"I married when I wuz sebenteen. I didn't have no weddin'. I wuz just
+married by de preacher to Albert McCommons, at Hutchins. Us stayed at
+Steebens 'bout one year after us married and den come to Athens, whar I
+stays now. I ain't never had but two chillun; dey wuz twins, one died,
+but my boy is wid me now.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to nuss Miss Calline Davis, and she done got married and left
+here, but I still hears from 'er. She done married one of dem northern
+mens, Mr. Hope. I 'members one time whilst dey wuz visitin' I stayed wid
+'em to nuss deir baby. One of Mr. Hope's friends from New York wuz wid
+'em. When dey got to de train to go
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.058055" id="v.043p.058055"></a>[055]</span>
+home, Miss Calline kissed me
+good-bye and de yankee didn't know what to say. Miss Calline say de
+yankees 'low dat southern folks air mean to us Niggers and just beat us
+all de time. Dey just don't know 'cause my white folkses wuz all good to
+me, and I loves 'em all."</p>
+
+<p>As the interviewer left, Aunt Merry followed her into the yard asking
+for a return visit and promising to tell more, "bout my good white
+folkses."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.059056" id="v.043p.059056"></a>[056]</span>
+
+<a name="McCreeEd"></a>
+
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE<br />
+<br />
+As viewed by<br />
+ED McCREE, Age 76<br />
+543 Reese 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 &amp; 7</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.060057" id="v.043p.060057"></a>[057]</span>
+
+<p>Ed McCree's home was pointed out by a little albino Negro girl about 10
+years old. The small front yard was gay with snapdragons, tiger lilies,
+dahlias, and other colorful flowers, and the two-story frame house,
+painted gray with white trimmings seemed to be in far better repair than
+the average Negro residence.</p>
+
+<p>Chewing on a cud of tobacco, Ed answered the knock on his front door.
+"Good evenin' Lady," he said. "Have a cheer on de porch whar it's cool."
+Ed is about five feet, six inches in height, and on this afternoon he
+was wearing a blue striped shirt, black vest, gray pants and black
+shoes. His gray hair was topped by a soiled gray hat.</p>
+
+<p>Nett, his wife, came hobbling out on the porch and sat down to listen to
+the conversation. At first the old man was reluctant to talk of his
+childhood experiences, but his interest was aroused by questioning and
+soon he began to eagerly volunteer his memories. He had just had his
+noon meal and now and then would doze a little, but was easily aroused
+when questions called him back to the subject.</p>
+
+<p>"I was borned in Oconee County," he said, "jus' below Watkinsville. My
+Ma and Pa was Louisa and Henry McCree, but Old Marster called Pa 'Sherm'
+for short. Far as I ever heared, my Ma and Pa was borned and brung up
+right dar in Oconee County. Dere
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.061058" id="v.043p.061058"></a>[058]</span>
+was six of us chillun: Silas, Lumpkin,
+Bennie, Lucy, Babe, and me. Babe, she was borned a long time atter de
+war.</p>
+
+<p>"Little Niggers, what was too young to wuk in de fields, toted water to
+de field hands and waited on de old 'omans what was too old to wuk in de
+craps. Dem old 'omans looked atter de babies and piddled 'round de
+yards.</p>
+
+<p>"Slave quarters was lots of log cabins wid chimlies of criss-crossed
+sticks and mud. Pore white folks lived in houses lak dat too. Our bed
+was made wid high posties and had cords, what run evvy which a-way, for
+springs. 'Course dey had to be wound tight to keep dem beds from fallin'
+down when you tried to git in 'em. For mattresses, de 'omans put wheat
+straw in ticks made out of coarse cloth wove right dar on de plantation,
+and de pillows was made de same way. Ole Miss, she let her special
+favorite Niggers, what wuked up at de big house, have feather mattresses
+and pillows. Dem other Niggers shined dey eyes over dat, but dere warn't
+nothin' dey could do 'bout it 'cept slip 'round and cut dem feather beds
+and pillows open jus' to see de feathers fly. Kivver was 'lowanced out
+evvy year to de ones what needed it most. In dat way dere was allus good
+kivver for evvybody.</p>
+
+<p>"Grandma Liza b'longed to Marse Calvin Johnson long 'fore Marse John
+McCree buyed her. She was cook at de big house. Grandpa Charlie, he
+b'longed to Marse Charlie Hardin, but atter him and Grandma married, she
+still went by de name of McCree.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.062059" id="v.043p.062059"></a>[059]</span>
+
+<p>"Lawdy Miss! Who ever heared of folks payin' slaves to wuk? Leastwise, I
+never knowed 'bout none of 'em on our place gittin' money for what dey
+done. 'Course dey give us plenty of somepin' t'eat and clothes to wear,
+and den dey made us keep a-humpin' it. I does 'member seein' dem paper
+nickels, dimes, and quarters what us chillun played wid atter de war. Us
+used to pretend us was rich wid all dat old money what warn't no good
+den.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout dem eatments, Miss, it was lek dis, dere warn't no fancy victuals
+lak us thinks us got to have now, but what dere was, dere was plenty of.
+Most times dere was poke sallet, turnip greens, old blue head collards,
+cabbages, peas, and 'taters by de wholesale for de slaves to eat and,
+onct a week, dey rationed us out wheat bread, syrup, brown sugar, and
+ginger cakes. What dey give chillun de most of was potlicker poured over
+cornbread crumbs in a long trough. For fresh meat, outside of killin' a
+shoat, a lamb, or a kid now and den, slaves was 'lowed to go huntin' a
+right smart and dey fotch in a good many turkles (turtles), 'possums,
+rabbits, and fish. Folks didn't know what iron cookstoves was dem days.
+Leastwise, our white folks didn't have none of 'em. All our cookin' was
+done in open fireplaces in big old pots and pans. Dey had thick iron
+skillets wid heavy lids on 'em, and dey could bake and fry too in dem
+skillets. De meats, cornbread, biscuits, and cakes what was cooked in
+dem old skillets was sho' mighty good.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.063060" id="v.043p.063060"></a>[060]</span>
+
+<p>"De cotton, flax, and wool what our clothes was made out of was growed,
+spun, wove, and sewed right dar on our plantation. Marse John had a
+reg'lar seamster what didn't do nothin' else but sew. Summertime us
+chillun wore shirts what looked lak nightgowns. You jus' pulled one of
+dem slips over your haid and went on 'cause you was done dressed for de
+whole week, day and night. Wintertime our clothes was a heap better. Dey
+give us thick jeans pants, heavy shirts, and brogan shoes wid brass
+toes. Summertime us all went bar'foots.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marster John McCree was sho' a good white man, I jus' tells you de
+truf, 'cause I ain't in for tellin' nothin' else. I done jus' plum
+forgot Ole Miss' fust name, and I can't git up de chilluns' names no
+way. I didn't play 'round wid 'em much nohow. Dey was jus' little young
+chillun den anyhow. Dey lived in a big old plank house&mdash;nothin' fine
+'bout it. I 'members de heavy timbers was mortised together and de other
+lumber was put on wid pegs; dere warn't no nails 'bout it. Dat's all I
+ricollects 'bout dat dere house right now. It was jus' a common house,
+I'd say.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was a thousand or more acres in dat old plantation. It sho' was a
+big piece of land, and it was plumb full of Niggers&mdash;I couldn't say how
+many, 'cause I done forgot. You could hear dat bugle de overseer blowed
+to wake up de slaves for miles and miles. He got 'em up long 'fore sunup
+and wuked 'em in de fields long as dey could see how to wuk. Don't talk
+'bout dat overseer
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.064061" id="v.043p.064061"></a>[061]</span>
+whuppin' Niggers. He beat on 'em for most anything.
+What would dey need no jail for wid dat old overseer a-comin' down on
+'em wid dat rawhide bull-whup?</p>
+
+<p>"If dey got any larnin', it was at night. Dere warn't no school 'ouse or
+no church on dat plantation for Niggers. Slaves had to git a pass when
+dey wanted to go to church. Sometimes de white preacher preached to de
+Niggers, but most of de time a Nigger wid a good wit done de preachin'.
+Dat Nigger, he sho' couldn't read nary a word out of de Bible. At de
+baptizin's was when de Nigger boys shined up to de gals. Dey dammed up
+de crick to make de water deep enough to duck 'em under good and, durin'
+de service, dey sung: _It's de Good Old Time Religion_.</p>
+
+<p>"When folks died den, Niggers for miles and miles around went to de
+funeral. Now days dey got to know you mighty well if dey bothers to go a
+t'all. Dem days folks was buried in homemade coffins. Some of dem
+coffins was painted and lined wid cloth and some warn't. De onliest song
+I ricollects 'em singin' at buryin's was: _Am I Born to Lay Dis Body
+Down_? Dey didn't dig graves lak dey does now. Dey jus' dug straight
+down to 'bout five feet, den dey cut a vault to fit de coffin in de side
+of de grave. Dey didn't put no boards or nothin' over de coffins to keep
+de dirt off.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout dem patterollers! Well, you knowed if dey cotched you out widout
+no pass, dey was gwine to beat your back most
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.065062" id="v.043p.065062"></a>[062]</span>
+off and send you on home.
+One night my Pa 'lowed he would go to see his gal. All right, he went.
+When he got back, his cabin door was fastened hard and fast. He was
+a-climbin' in de window when de patterollers got to him. Dey 'lowed:
+'Nigger, is you got a pass?' Pa said: 'No Sir.' Den dey said: 'Us can't
+beat you 'cause you done got home on your marster's place, but us is
+sho' gwine to tell your Marster to whup your hide off. But Old Marster
+never tetched him for dat.</p>
+
+<p>"Atter dey come in from de fields, dem Niggers et deir supper, went to
+deir cabins, sot down and rested a little while, and den dey drapped
+down on de beds to sleep. Dey didn't wuk none Sadday atter dinner in de
+fields. Dat was wash day for slave 'omans. De mens done fust one thing
+and den another. Dey cleant up de yards, chopped wood, mended de
+harness, sharpened plow points, and things lak dat. Sadday nights, Old
+Marster give de young folks passes so dey could go from one place to
+another a-dancin' and a-frolickin' and havin' a big time gen'ally. Dey
+done most anything dey wanted to on Sundays, so long as dey behaved
+deyselfs and had deir passes handy to show if de patterollers bothered
+'em.</p>
+
+<p>"Yessum, slaves sho' looked forward to Christmas times. Dere was such
+extra good eatin's dat week and so much of 'em. Old Marster had 'em kill
+a plenty of shoats, lambs, kids, cows, and turkeys for fresh meat. De
+'omans up at de big house was busy for a week ahead cookin' peach puffs,
+'tater custards, and plenty of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.066063" id="v.043p.066063"></a>[063]</span>
+cakes sweetened wid brown sugar and
+syrup. Dere was plenty of home-made candy for de chilluns' Santa Claus
+and late apples and peaches had done been saved and banked in wheat
+straw to keep 'em good 'til Christmas. Watermelons was packed away in
+cottonseed and when dey cut 'em open on Christmas Dey, dey et lak fresh
+melons in July. Us had a high old time for a week, and den on New Year's
+Day dey started back to wuk.</p>
+
+<p>"Come winter, de mens had big cornshuckin's and dere was quiltin's for
+de 'omans. Dere was a row of corn to be shucked as long as from here to
+Milledge Avenue. Old Marster put a gang of Niggers at each end of de row
+and it was a hot race 'tween dem gangs to see which could git to de
+middle fust. Dere was allus a big feast waitin' for 'em when de last ear
+of corn was shucked. 'Bout dem quiltin's!" Now Lady, what would a old
+Nigger man know 'bout somepin' dat didn't nothin' but 'omans have
+nothin' to do wid?</p>
+
+<p>"Dem cotton pickin's was grand times. Dey picked cotton in de moonlight
+and den had a big feast of barbecued beef, mutton, and pork washed down
+wid plenty of good whiskey. Atter de feast was over, some of dem Niggers
+played fiddles and picked banjoes for de others to dance down 'til dey
+was wore out.</p>
+
+<p>"When slaves got sick, our white folks was mighty good 'bout havin' 'em
+keered for. Dey dosed 'em up wid oil and turpentine and give 'em teas
+made out of hoarhound for some mis'ries and bone-set for other troubles.
+Most all the slaves wore a sack of assfiddy
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.067064" id="v.043p.067064"></a>[064]</span>
+(asafetida) 'round deir
+necks all de time to keep 'em from gittin' sick.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a happy day for us slaves when news come dat de war was over and
+de white folks had to turn us 'loose. Marster called his Niggers to come
+up to de big house yard, but I never stayed 'round to see what he had to
+say. I runned 'round dat place a-shoutin' to de top of my voice. My
+folks stayed on wid Old Marster for 'bout a year or more. If us had
+left, it would have been jus' lak swappin' places from de fryin' pan to
+de fire, 'cause Niggers didn't have no money to buy no land wid for a
+long time atter de war. Schools was soon scattered 'bout by dem Yankees
+what had done sot us free. I warn't big enough den to do nothin' much
+'cept tote water to de field and chop a little cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"Me and Nettie Freeman married a long time atter de war. At our weddin'
+I wore a pair of brown jeans pants, white shirt, white vest, and a
+cutaway coat. Nettie wore a black silk dress what she had done bought
+from Miss Blanche Rutherford. Pears lak to me it had a overskirt of blue
+what was scalloped 'round de bottom."</p>
+
+<p>At this point, Nettie, who had been an interested listener, was
+delighted. She broke into the conversation with: "Ed, you sho' did take
+in dat dress and you ain't forgot it yit."</p>
+
+<p>"You is right 'bout dat, Honey," he smilingly replied, "I sho' ain't and
+I never will forgit how you looked dat day."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.068065" id="v.043p.068065"></a>[065]</span>
+
+<p>"Miss Blanche give me a pair of white silk gloves to wear wid dat
+dress," mused Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Us didn't have no sho' 'nough weddin'," continued Ed. "Us jus' went off
+to de preacher man's house and got married up together. I sho' is glad
+my Nett is still a-livin', even if she is down wid de rheumatiz."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad I'm livin' too," Nettie said with a chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>Ed ignored the question as to the number of their children and Nettie
+made no attempt to take further part in the conversation. There is a
+deep seated idea prevalent among old people of this type that if the
+"giver'ment folks" learn that they have able-bodied children, their
+pensions and relief allowances will be discontinued.</p>
+
+<p>Soon Ed was willing to talk again. "Yessum," he said. "I sho' had ruther
+be free. I don't never want to be a slave no more. Now if me and Nett
+wants to, us can set around and not fix and eat but one meal all day
+long. If us don't want to do dat, us can do jus' whatsomever us pleases.
+Den, us had to wuk whether us laked it or not.</p>
+
+<p>"Lordy Miss, I ain't never jined up wid no church. I ain't got no reason
+why, only I jus' ain't never had no urge from inside of me to jine.
+'Course, you know, evvybody ought to lissen to de services in de church
+and live right and den dey wouldn't be so skeered to die. Miss, ain't
+you through axin' me questions yit? I is so sleepy, and I don't know no
+more to tell you. Goodbye."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.069066" id="v.043p.069066"></a>[066]</span>
+
+<a name="McCulloughLucy"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 1<br />
+Ex Slave #68]<br />
+<br />
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:<br />
+LUCY McCULLOUGH, Age 79<br />
+<br />
+BY: SARAH H. HALL<br />
+ATHENS, GA.<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.070067" id="v.043p.070067"></a>[067]</span>
+
+<p>[TR: This first half of this interview was edited by hand to change many
+'er' sounds to 'uh', for example, 'der' to 'duh', 'ter' to 'tuh'; as a
+single word, 'er' was also changed to 'a'.]</p>
+
+
+<p>"Does Ah 'member 'bout war time, en dem days fo' de war? Yassum, Ah sho'
+does. Ah blong ter Marse Ned Carter in Walton county."</p>
+
+<p>"Whut Ah 'members mos' is duh onliest beatin' Ah ebber got fum de
+overseer on Marse Ned's place. De hawgs wuz dyin' moughty bad wid
+cholry, en Marse Ned hed 'is mens drag evvy dead hawg off in de woods
+'en bun 'em up ter keep de cholry fum spreadin' mongst de udder hawgs.
+De mens wuz keerless 'bout de fire, en fo' long de woods wuz on fire, en
+de way dat fire spread in dem dry grape vines in de woods mek it 'peer
+lak jedgment day tuh us chilluns. Us run 'bout de woods lookin' at de
+mens fight de fire, en evvy time we see uh new place a-blaze we run dis
+way en dat way, twel fus' thing us knows, we is plum off Marse Ned's
+plantation, en us doan rightly know whar us is. Us play 'roun' in de
+woods en arter while Marse Ned's overseer cum fine us, en he druv us
+back tuh de big house yahd en give evvy one uv us uh good beaten'. Ah
+sho' wuz black en blue, en Ah nebber did fuhgit en run offen Marse Ned's
+lan' no mo' lessen I hed uh pass."</p>
+
+<p>"Mah mammy, she wuz cook at duh big house, en Ah wuz raised dah in de
+kitchen en de back yahd at de big house. Ah wuz tuh be uh maid fer de
+ladies in de big house. De house servants hold that dey is uh step
+better den de field niggers. House servants wuz niggah quality folks."</p>
+
+<p>Ah mus' not a been mo' en thee uh fo' yeahs ole when Miss Millie cum out
+in de kitchen one day, en 'gin tuh scold my mammy 'bout de sorry way
+mammy done clean de chitlins. Ah ain'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.071068" id="v.043p.071068"></a>[068]</span>
+nebber heard nobuddy fuss et my
+mammy befo'. Little ez Ah wuz, Ah swell up en rar' back, en I sez tuh
+Miss Millie, "Doan you no' Mammy is boss uh dis hyar kitchen. You cyan'
+cum a fussin' in hyar." "Miss Millie, she jus laff, but Mammy grab a
+switch en 'gin ticklin' my laigs, but Miss Millie mek her quit it." "Who
+wuz Miss Millie? Why, she wuz Marse Ned's wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Whilst Marse Ned wuz 'way at de war, bad sojer mens cum thoo de
+country. Miss Millie done hyar tell dey wuz on de way, an she had de
+mens haul all Marse Ned's cotton off in de woods en hide it. De waggins
+wuz piled up high wid cotton, en de groun' wuz soft atter de rain. De
+waggins leff deep ruts in de groun', but none us folks on de plantation
+pay no heed ter dem ruts. When de sojer mens cum, dey see dem ruts en
+trail 'em right out dar in de woods ter de cotton. Den dey sot fire ter
+de cotton en bun it all up. Dey cum back ter de big house en take all de
+sweet milk in de dairy house, en help 'emselfs ter evvy thing in de
+smoke houses. Den dey pick out de stronges' er Marse Ned's slave mens en
+take 'em 'way wid 'em. Dey take evvy good horse Marse Ned had on de
+plantation. No Ma'am, dey diden' bun nuffin ceppen' de cotton."</p>
+
+<p>"Us wuz mo' skeered er patter-rollers den any thing else. Patter-rollers
+diden' bodder folks much, lessen dey caught 'em offen dar marsters
+plantations en dey diden' hab no pass. One night en durin' de war, de
+patter-rollers cum ter our cabin, en I scrooge down under de kiver in de
+bed. De patter-roller man tho' de kiver offen mah face, en he see me
+blong dar, en he let me be, but Ah wuz skeered plumb ter death. Courtin'
+folks got ketched en beat up by de patter-rollers mo' den enny buddy
+else, kazen dey wuz allus slippen' out fer ter meet one er nudder at
+night."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.072069" id="v.043p.072069"></a>[069]</span>
+
+<p>"When folks dat lived on diffunt plantations, en blonged ter diffunt
+marsters wanted ter git married, dey hed ter ax both dar marsters fus'.
+Den effen dar marsters 'gree on it, dey let 'em marry. De mans marster
+'ud give de man er pass so he cud go see his wife et night, but he sho'
+better be back on his own marsters farm when de bell ring evvy morning.
+De chilluns 'ud blong ter de marster dat own de 'oman."</p>
+
+<p>"Black folks wuz heap smarter den dey is now. Dem days de 'omans knowed
+how ter cyard, en spin, en weave de cloff, en dey made de close. De mens
+know how ter mek shoes ter wear den. Black folks diden' hev ter go cole
+er hongry den, kaze dey marsters made 'em wuk en grow good crops, en den
+der marsters fed 'em plenty en tuk keer uv 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Black folks wuz better folks den dey is now. Dey knowed dey hed ter be
+good er dey got beat. De gals dey diden't sho' dare laigs lak dey do
+now. Cloff hed ter be made den, en hit wuz er heap mo' trouble ter mek
+er yahd er cloff, den it is ter buy it now, but 'omans en gals, dey
+stayed kivvered up better den. Why, Ah 'member one time my mammy seed me
+cummin' crost de yahd en she say mah dress too short. She tuk it offen
+me, en rip out de hem, en ravel at de aig' er little, en den fus' thing
+I knows, she got dat dress tail on ter de loom, en weave more cloff on
+hit, twel it long enuf, lak she want it."</p>
+
+<p>"Long 'bout dat time dey wuz killin' hawgs on de plantation, en it wuz
+er moughty cole day. Miss Millie, she tell me fer ter tote dis quart er
+brandy out dar fer ter warm up de mens dat wuz er wukkin in de cole
+win'. 'Long de way, Ah keep er sippin' dat brandy, en time Ah got ter de
+hawg killin' place Ah wuz crazy drunk
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.073070" id="v.043p.073070"></a>[070]</span>
+en tryin' ter sing. Dat time
+'twon't no overseer beat me. Dem slave mens beat me den fo' drinkin' dat
+likker."</p>
+
+<p>"Mah folks stayed on en wukked fo' Marse Ned long atter de war. When Ah
+wuz mos' grown mah fam'ly moved ter Logansville. No, Ma'am, I ain't
+nebber been so free en happy es when I diden' hev ter worry 'bout whar
+de vittles en close gwine cum fum, en all Ah had ter do wuz wuk evvy day
+lak mah whitefolks tole me."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.074071" id="v.043p.074071"></a>[071]</span>
+
+<a name="McDanielAmanda"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 5 (Driskell)<br />
+Ex Slave #69]<br />
+<br />
+AMANDA MCDANIEL, 80 yrs old<br />
+Ex-slave<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Among these few remaining persons who have lived long enough to tell of
+some of their experiences during the reign of "King Slavery" in the
+United States is one Mrs. Amanda McDaniel.</p>
+
+<p>As she sat on the porch in the glare of the warm October sun she
+presented a perfect picture of the old Negro Mammy commonly seen during
+the days of slavery. She smiled as she expectorated a large amount of
+the snuff she was chewing and began her story in the following manner:
+"I was born in Watsonville, Georgia in 1850. My mother's name was
+Matilda Hale and my father was Gilbert Whitlew. My mother and father
+belonged to different master's, but the plantations that they lived on
+were near each other and so my father was allowed to visit us often. My
+mother had two other girls who were my half-sisters. You see&mdash;my mother
+was sold to the speculator in Virginia and brought to Georgia where she
+was sold to Mr. Hale, who was our master until freedom was declared.
+When she was sold to the speculator the two girls who were my
+half-sisters had to be sold with her because they were too young to be
+separated from their mother. My father, Gilbert Whitlew, was my mother's
+second husband.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Hale, our master, was not rich like some of the other planters in
+the community. His plantation was a small one and he only had eight
+servants who were all women. He wasn't able to hire an overseer and all
+of the heavy work such as the plowing was done by his sons. Mrs. Hale
+did all of her own cooking and that of the slaves too. In all Mr. Hale
+had eleven children. I had to nurse three of them before I was old
+enough to go to the field to work."</p>
+
+<p>When asked to tell about the kind of work the slaves had to do Mrs.
+McDaniel said: "Our folks had to get up at four o'clock every morning
+and feed
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.075072" id="v.043p.075072"></a>[072]</span>
+the stock first. By the time it was light enough to see they
+had to be in the fields where they hoed the cotton and the corn as well
+as the other crops. Between ten and eleven o'clock everybody left the
+field and went to the house where they worked until it was too dark to
+see. My first job was to take breakfast to those working in the fields.
+I used buckets for this. Besides this I had to drive the cows to and
+from the pasture. The rest of the day was spent in taking care of Mrs.
+Hale's young children. After a few years of this I was sent to the
+fields where I planted peas, corn, etc. I also had to pick cotton when
+that time came, but I never had to hoe and do the heavy work like my
+mother and sisters did." According to Mrs. McDaniel they were seldom
+required to work at night after they had left the fields but when such
+occasions did arise they were usually in the form of spinning thread and
+weaving cloth. During the winter months this was the only type of work
+that they did. On days when the weather was too bad for work out of
+doors they shelled the corn and peas and did other minor types of work
+not requiring too much exposure. Nobody had to work on Saturday
+afternoons or on Sundays. It was on Saturdays or at night that the
+slaves had the chance to do their own work such as the repairing of
+clothing, etc.</p>
+
+<p>On the Hale plantation clothing was issued two times each year, once at
+the beginning of summer and again at the beginning of the winter season.
+On this first issue all were given striped dresses made of cotton
+material. These dresses were for wear during the week while dresses made
+of white muslin were given for Sunday wear. The dye which was necessary
+in order to color those clothes worn during the week was made by boiling
+red dirt or the bark of trees in water. Sometimes the indigo berry was
+also used. The winter issue consisted of dresses made of woolen
+material. The socks and stockings were all knitted. All of this wearing
+apparel was made by Mrs. Hale. The shoes that these women slaves wore
+were made in the nearby town at a place known as the tan yards.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.076073" id="v.043p.076073"></a>[073]</span>
+These
+shoes were called "Brogans" and they were very crude in construction
+having been made of very stiff leather. None of the clothing that was
+worn on this plantation was bought as everything necessary for the
+manufacture of clothing was available on the premises.</p>
+
+<p>As has been previously stated, Mrs. Hale did all of the cooking on the
+plantation with the possible exception of Sundays when the slaves cooked
+for themselves. During the week their diet usually consisted of corn
+bread, fat meat, vegetables, milk, and potliquor. The food that they ate
+on Sunday was practically the same. All the food that they ate was
+produced in the master's garden and there was a sufficient amount for
+everyone at all times.</p>
+
+<p>There were two one-room log cabins in the rear of the master's house.
+These cabins were dedicated to slave use. Mrs. McDaniel says: "The
+floors were made of heavy wooden planks. At one end of the cabin was the
+chimney which was made out of dried mud, sticks, and dirt. On the side
+of the cabin opposite the door there was a window where we got a little
+air and a little light. Our beds were made out of the same kind of wood
+that the floors were and we called them "Bed-Stilts." Slats were used
+for springs while the mattresses were made of large bags stuffed with
+straw. At night we used tallow candles for light and sometimes fat pine
+that we called light-wood. As Mrs. Hale did all of our cooking we had
+very few pots and pans. In the Winter months we used to take mud and
+close the cracks left in the wall where the logs did not fit close
+together."</p>
+
+<p>According to Mrs. McDaniel all the serious illnesses were handled by a
+doctor who was called in at such times. At other times Mr. or Mrs. Hale
+gave them either castor oil or salts. Sometimes they were given a type
+of oil called "lobelia oil." At the beginning of the spring season they
+drank various teas made out of the roots that they gathered in the
+surrounding woods.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.077074" id="v.043p.077074"></a>[074]</span>
+The only one that Mrs. McDaniel remembers is that
+which was made from sassafras roots. "This was good to clean the
+system," says Mrs. McDaniel. Whenever they were sick they did not have
+to report to the master's house each day as was the case on some of the
+other plantations. There were never any pretended illnesses to avoid
+work as far as Mrs. McDaniel knows.</p>
+
+<p>On Sunday all of the slaves on the Hale plantation were permitted to
+dress in their Sunday clothes and go to the white church in town. During
+the morning services they sat in the back of the church where they
+listened to the white pastor deliver the sermon. In the afternoon they
+listened to a sermon that was preached by a colored minister. Mrs.
+McDaniel hasn't the slightest idea of what these sermons were about.
+She remembers how marriages were performed, however, although the only
+one that she ever witnessed took place on one of the neighboring
+plantations. After a broom was placed on the ground a white minister
+read the scriptures and then the couple in the process of being married
+jumped over this broom. They were then considered as man and wife.</p>
+
+<p>Whippings were very uncommon the the Hale plantation. Sometimes Mr. Hale
+had to resort to this form of punishment for disobedience on the part of
+some of the servants. Mrs. McDaniel says that she was whipped many times
+but only once with the cowhide. Nearly every time that she was whipped a
+switch was used. She has seen her mother as well as some of the others
+punished but they were never beaten unmercifully. Neither she or any of
+the other slaves on the Hale plantation ever came in contact with the
+"Paddie-Rollers," whom they knew as a group of white men who went around
+whipping slaves who were caught away from their respective homes without
+passes from their masters. When asked about the buying and the selling
+of slaves Mrs. McDaniel said that she had never witnessed an auction at
+which slaves were being sold and that the only thing she knew about this
+was what she had been told
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.078075" id="v.043p.078075"></a>[075]</span>
+by her mother who had been separated from her
+husband and sold in Georgia. Mr. Hale never had the occasion to sell any
+of those slaves that he held.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. McDaniel remembers nothing of the talk that transpired between the
+slaves or her owners at the beginning of the war. She says: "I was a
+little girl, and like the other children then, I didn't have as much
+sense as the children of today who are of the age that I was then. I do
+remember that my master moved somewhere near Macon, Georgia after
+General Wheeler marched through. I believe that he did more damage than
+the Yanks did when they came through. When my master moved us along with
+his family we had to go out of the way a great deal because General
+Wheeler had destroyed all of the bridges. Besides this he damaged a
+great deal of the property that he passed." Continuing, Mrs. McDaniel
+said: "I didn't see any of the fighting but I did hear the firing of the
+cannons. I also saw any number of Confederate soldiers pass by our
+place." Mr. Hale didn't join the army although his oldest son did.</p>
+
+<p>At the time that the slaves were freed it meant nothing in particular to
+Mrs. McDaniel, who says that she was too young to pay much attention to
+what was happening. She never saw her father after they moved away from
+Watsonville. At any rate she and her mother remained in the service of
+Mr. Hale for a number of years after the war. In the course of this time
+Mr. Hale grew to be a wealthy man. He continued to be good to those
+servants who remained with him. After she was a grown woman Mrs.
+McDaniel left Mr. Hale as she was then married.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. McDaniel says that she has reached such an old age because she has
+always taken care of herself, which is more than the young people of
+today are doing, she added as an after thought.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.079076" id="v.043p.079076"></a>[076]</span>
+
+<a name="McGruderTom"></a>
+
+<h3>Dist. 7<br />
+Ex. Slave #74<br />
+<br />
+TOM McGRUDER, 102 years old<br />
+Ex-Slave<br />
+<br />
+By Elizabeth Watson, Hawkinsville, Georgia<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Tom McGruder, one of the oldest living ex-slaves in Pulaski County, was
+sitting on the porch of his son's home when we went in to see him. His
+grizzled old head began to nod a "Good morning" and his brown face
+became wreathed in smiles when he saw us.</p>
+
+<p>He looked very small as he sat in a low straight chair by the door. His
+shirt and overalls were ragged but spotlessly clean. On his feet were
+heavy shoes that were kept free from dirt. His complexion was not black
+as some of the other members of his race but was a light brown. There
+were very few wrinkles in his face considering the fact that he was one
+hundred and two years old in June. He spoke in a quiet voice though
+somewhat falteringly as he suffers greatly from asthma.</p>
+
+<p>"Were you born in this county, Uncle Tom?" we asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No mam, Missus," he replied. "Me and my mother and sister wuz brought
+from Virginia to this state by the speculators and sold here. I was only
+about eighteen or twenty and I was sold for $1250. My mother was given
+to one of Old Marster's married chillun.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, Missus," he spoke again after a long pause. "We wuz put on the
+block just like cattle and sold to one man today and another tomorrow. I
+wuz sold three times after coming to this state."</p>
+
+<p>Tom could tell us very little about his life on the large plantations
+because his feeble old mind would only be clear at intervals. He would
+begin relating some incident but would suddenly break off with, "I'd
+better leave that alone 'cause I done forgot." He remembered, however,
+that he trained
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.080077" id="v.043p.080077"></a>[077]</span>
+dogs for his "whie folks," trained them to be good
+hunters as that was one of the favorite sports of the day.</p>
+
+<p>The last man to whom Tom was sold was Mr. Jim McGruder, of Emanuel
+County. He was living in a small cabin belonging to Mr. McGruder, when
+he married. "I 'members", said Tom, "That Old Marster and Missus fixed
+up a lunch and they and their chillun brought it to my cabin. Then they
+said, 'Nigger, jump the broom' and we wuz married, 'cause you see we
+didn't know nothing 'bout no cer'mony."</p>
+
+<p>It was with Mr. McGruder that Tom entered the army, working for him as
+his valet.</p>
+
+<p>"I wuz in the army for 'bout four years," Tom said. "I fought in the
+battles at Petersburg, Virginia and Chattanooga, Tennessee. I looked
+after Old Marster's shoes and clothes. Old Marster, what he done he done
+well. He was kind to me and I guess better to me sometimes than I
+deserved but I had to do what he told me."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember any of the old songs you used to sing?" we asked.
+"Missus, I can't sing no mo'," he replied. But pausing for a few minutes
+he raised his head and sang in a quiet voice, the words and melody
+perfectly clear;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Why do you wait, dear brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, why do you tarry so long?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Your Saviour is waiting to give you<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A place in His sanctified throng."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.081078" id="v.043p.081078"></a>[078]</span>
+
+<a name="McIntoshSusan"></a>
+
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by ex-slave<br />
+<br />
+SUSAN McINTOSH, Age 87<br />
+1203 W. Hancook Avenue<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Sadie B. Hornsby<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Athens, Ga.<br />
+<br />
+Edited by:<br />
+Sarah H. Hall<br />
+Athens<br />
+<br />
+John N. Booth<br />
+Augusta<br />
+<br />
+Leila Harris<br />
+Augusta<br />
+<br />
+April 28, 1938<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 6 1938]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.082079" id="v.043p.082079"></a>[079]</span>
+
+<p>A driving rain sent the interviewer scurrying into the house of Susan
+McIntosh who lives with her son, Dr. Andrew Jones, at the corner of
+Hancock Avenue and Billups Street.</p>
+
+<p>Susan readily gave her story: "They tell me I was born in November
+1851," she said, "and I know I've been here a long time 'cause I've seen
+so many come and go. I've outlived 'most all of my folks 'cept my son
+that I live with now. Honey, I've 'most forgot about slavery days. I
+don't read, and anyway there ain't no need to think of them times now. I
+was born in Oconee County on Judge William Stroud's plantation. We
+called him Marse Billy. That was a long time before Athens was the
+county seat. Ma's name was Mary Jen, and Pa was Christopher Harris. They
+called him Chris for short. Marster Young L.G. Harris bought him from
+Marster Hudson of Elbert County and turned him over to his niece, Miss
+Lula Harris, when she married Marster Robert Taylor. Marse Robert was a
+son of General Taylor what lived in the Grady house before it belonged
+to Mr. Henry Grady's mother. Pa was coachman and house boy for Miss
+Lula.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Billy owned Ma, and Marse Robert owned Pa, and Pa, he come to see
+Ma about once or twice a month. The Taylor's, they done a heap of
+travellin' and always took my Pa with 'em. Oh! there was thirteen of us
+chillun, seven died soon after they was born, and none of 'em lived to
+git grown 'cept me. Their names was Nanette and Ella, what was next to
+me; Susan&mdash;thats me; Isabelle, Martha, Mary, Diana, Lila, William, Gus,
+and the twins what was born dead; and Harden. He was named for a Dr.
+Harden what lived here then.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.083080" id="v.043p.083080"></a>[080]</span>
+
+<p>"Marse Billy bought my gran'ma in Virginia. She was part Injun. I can
+see her long, straight, black hair now, and when she died she didn't
+have gray hair like mine. They say Injuns don't turn gray like other
+folks. Gran'ma made cloth for the white folks and slaves on the
+plantation. I used to hand her thread while she was weavin'. The lady
+what taught Gran'ma to weave cloth, was Mist'ess Gowel, and she was a
+foreigner, 'cause she warn't born in Georgia. She had two sons what run
+the factory between Watkinsville and Athens. My aunt, Mila Jackson, made
+all the thread what they done the weavin' with. Gran'pa worked for a
+widow lady what was a simster (seamstress) and she just had a little
+plantation. She was Mist'ess Doolittle. All Gran'pa done was cut wood,
+'tend the yard and gyarden. He had rheumatism and couldn't do much.</p>
+
+<p>"There ain't much to tell about what we done in the slave quarters,
+'cause when we got big enough, we had to work: nussin' the babies,
+totin' water, and helpin' Gran'ma with the weavin', and such like. Beds
+was driv to the walls of the cabin; foot and headboard put together with
+rails, what run from head to foot. Planks was laid crossways and straw
+put on them and the beds was kivvered with the whitest sheets you ever
+seen. Some made pallets on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Ma'am, I didn't make no money 'til after freedom. I heard tell of
+ten and fifteen cents, but I didn't know nothing 'bout no figgers. I
+didn't know a nickel from a dime them days.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Ma'am, Marse Billy 'lowed his slaves to have their own gyardens,
+and 'sides plenty of good gyarden sass, we had milk and butter, bread
+and meat, chickens, greens, peas, and just everything that growed on the
+farm. Winter and summer, all the food
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.084081" id="v.043p.084081"></a>[081]</span>
+was cooked in a great big
+fireplace, about four feet wide, and you could put on a whole stick of
+cord wood at a time. When they wanted plenty of hot ashes to bake with,
+they burnt wood from ash trees. Sweet potatoes and bread was baked in
+the ashes. Seems like vittuls don't taste as good as they used to, when
+we cooked like that. 'Possums, Oh! I dearly love 'possums. My cousins
+used to catch 'em and when they was fixed up and cooked with sweet
+potatoes, 'possum meat was fit for a king. Marse Billy had a son named
+Mark, what was a little bitty man. They said he was a dwarf. He never
+done nothing but play with the children on the plantation. He would take
+the children down to the crick what run through the plantation and fish
+all day. We had rabbits, but they was most generally caught in a box
+trap, so there warn't no time wasted a-huntin' for 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"In summer, the slave women wore white homespun and the men wore pants
+and shirts made out of cloth what looked like overall cloth does now. In
+winter, we wore the same things, 'cept Marse Billy give the men woolen
+coats what come down to their knees, and the women wore warm wraps what
+they called sacks. On Sunday we had dresses dyed different colors. The
+dyes were made from red clay and barks. Bark from pines, sweetgums, and
+blackjacks was boiled, and each one made a different color dye. The
+cloth made at home was coarse and was called 'gusta cloth. Marse Billy
+let the slaves raise chickens, and cows, and have cotton patches too.
+They would sell butter, eggs, chickens, brooms, made out of wheat straw
+and such like. They took the money and bought calico, muslin and good
+shoes, pants, coats and other nice things for their Sunday clothes.
+Marse Billy bought leather from Marster Brumby's tanyard and had shoes
+made
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.085082" id="v.043p.085082"></a>[082]</span>
+for us. They was coarse and rough, but they lasted a long time.</p>
+
+<p>"My Marster was father-in-law of Dr. Jones Long. Marse Billy's wife,
+Miss Rena, died long before I was born. Their six children was all grown
+when I first knowed 'em. The gals was: Miss Rena, Miss Selena, Miss
+Liza, and Miss Susan. Miss Susan was Dr. Long's wife. I was named for
+her. There was two boys; Marse John and Marse Mark. I done told you
+'bout Marse Mark bein' a dwarf. They lived in a big old eight room
+house, on a high hill in sight of Mars Hill Baptist Church. Marse Billy
+was a great deacon in that church. Yes, Ma'am, he sho' was good to his
+Negroes. I heard 'em say that after he had done bought his slaves by
+working in a blacksmith shop, and wearin' cheap clothes, like mulberry
+suspenders, he warn't goin' to slash his Negroes up. The older folks
+admired Mist'ess and spoke well of her. They said she had lots more
+property than Marse Billy. She said she wanted Marse Billy to see that
+her slaves was give to her children. I 'spose there was about a hundred
+acres on that plantation and Marse Billy owned more property besides.
+There was about fifty grown folks and as to the children, I just don't
+know how many there was. Around the quarters looked like a little town.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Billy had a overseer up to the time War broke out, then he picked
+out a reliable colored man to carry out his orders. Sometimes the
+overseer got rough, then Marse Billy let him go and got another one. The
+overseer got us up about four or five o'clock in the morning, and dark
+brought us in at night.</p>
+
+<p>"Jails! Yes, Ma'am, I ricollect one was in Watkinsville. No, Ma'am, I
+never saw nobody auctioned off, but I heard
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.086083" id="v.043p.086083"></a>[083]</span>
+about it. Men used to come
+through an buy up slaves for foreign states where there warn't so many.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I didn't have no privilege to learn to read and write, but the
+white lady what taught my gran'ma to weave, had two sons what run the
+factory, and they taught my uncles to read and write.</p>
+
+<p>"There warn't no church on the plantation, so we went to Mars Hill
+Church. The white folks went in the mornings from nine 'til twelve and
+the slaves went in the evenings from three 'till about five. The white
+folks went in the front door and slaves used the back door. Rev. Bedford
+Lankford, what preached to the white folks helped a Negro, named Cy
+Stroud, to preach to the Negroes. Oh! Yes, Ma'am, I well remembers them
+baptizings. I believe in church and baptizing.</p>
+
+<p>"They buried the slaves on the plantation, in coffins made out of pine
+boards. Didn't put them in two boxes lak dey does now, and dey warn't
+painted needer.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you say patterollers? Sho' I seen 'em, but they didn't come on our
+plantation, 'cause Marse Billy was good to his Negroes and when they
+wanted a pass, if it was for a good reason, he give 'em one. Didn't none
+of Marse Billy's slaves run off to no North. When Marse Billy had need
+to send news somewhere, he put a reliable Negro on a mule and sent him.
+I sho' didn't hear about no trouble twixt white folks and Negroes.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you, Honey, when the days work was over them slaves went to bed,
+'cep' when the moon was out and they worked in their own cotton patches.
+On dark nights, the women mended and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.087084" id="v.043p.087084"></a>[084]</span>
+quilted sometimes. Not many worked
+in the fields on Saturday evenin's. They caught up on little jobs aroun'
+the lot; a mending harness and such like. On Saturday nights the young
+folks got together and had little frolics and feasts, but the older
+folks was gettin' things ready for Sunday, 'cause Marse Billy was a
+mighty religious man: we had to go to church, and every last one of the
+children was dragged along too.</p>
+
+<p>"We always had one week for Christmas. They brought us as much of good
+things to eat as we could destroy in one week, but on New Year's Day we
+went back to work. No, Ma'am, as I ricollect, we didn't have no corn
+shuckings or cotton pickings only what we had to do as part of our
+regular work.</p>
+
+<p>"The white folks mostly got married on Wednesday or Thursday evenin's.
+Oh! they had fine times, with everything good to eat, and lots of
+dancing too. Then they took a trip. Some went to Texas and some to
+Chicago. They call Chicago, the colored folks' New York now. I don't
+remember no weddings 'mongst the slaves. My cousin married on another
+plantation, but I warn't there.</p>
+
+<p>"Where I was, there warn't no playing done, only 'mongst the little
+chillun, and I can't remember much that far back. I recall that we sung
+a little song, about:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Little drops of water<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Little grains of sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make the mighty ocean<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the pleasant land.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Oh! Yes, Ma'am, Marse Billy was good to his slaves, when they got sick.
+He called in Dr. Jones Long, Dr. Harden, and Dr. Lumpkin when they was
+real sick. There was lots of typhoid fever
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.088085" id="v.043p.088085"></a>[085]</span>
+then. I don't know nothing
+about no herbs, they used for diseases; only boneset and hoarhound tea
+for colds and croup. They put penrile (pennyroyal) in the house to keep
+out flies and fleas, and if there was a flea in the house he would shoo
+from that place right then and there.</p>
+
+<p>"The old folks put little bags of assfiddy (assafoetida) around their
+chillun's necks to keep off measles and chickenpox, and they used
+turpentine and castor oil on chillun's gums to make 'em teethe easy.
+When I was living on Milledge Avenue, I had Dr. Crawford W. Long to see
+about one of my babies, and he slit that baby's gums so the teeth could
+come through. That looked might bad to me, but they don't believe in old
+ways no more."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed and said: "No, Ma'am, I don't know nothing about such low
+down things as hants and ghosts! Rawhead and Bloody Bones, I just
+thought he was a skelerpin, with no meat on him. Course lots of Negroes
+believe in ghosts and hants. Us chillun done lots of flightin' like
+chillun will do. I remember how little Marse Mark Stroud used to take
+all the little boys on the plantation and teach 'em to play Dixie on
+reeds what they called quills. That was good music, but the radio has
+done away with all that now.</p>
+
+<p>"I knowed I was a slave and that it was the War that sot me free. It was
+'bout dinner time when Marse Billy come to the door and called us to the
+house. He pulled out a paper and read it to us, and then he said: 'You
+all are free, as I am.' We couldn't help thinking about what a good
+marster he always had been, and how old, and feeble, and gray headed he
+looked as he kept on a-talkin' that day. 'You all can stay on here with
+me if you want to,' he
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.089086" id="v.043p.089086"></a>[086]</span>
+'lowed, 'but if you do, I will have to pay you
+wages for your work.'</p>
+
+<p>"I never saw no Yankees in Athens, but I was in Atlanta at Mrs.
+Winship's on Peachtree Street, when General Sherman come to that town
+'parin' his men for to go home. There was about two thousand in all,
+white and black. They marched up and down Marietta Street from three
+o'clock in the evening 'til seven o'clock next morning. Then they left.
+I remember well that there warn't a house left standing in Atlanta, what
+warn't riddled with shell holes. I was scared pretty nigh to death and I
+never want to leave home at no time like that again. But Pa saw 'em soon
+after that in Athens. They was a marching down Broad Street on their way
+to Macon, and Pa said it looked like a blue cloud going through.</p>
+
+<p>"Ma and me stayed on with Marse Billy 'bout six months after the War
+ended before we come to town to live with Pa. We lived right back of
+Rock College and Ma took in washin' for the folks what went to school
+there. No, Ma'am I never saw no Ku Kluxers. Me and Ma didn't leave home
+at night and the white folks wouldn't let 'em git Pa.</p>
+
+<p>"Major Knox brought three or four teachers to teach in a school for
+Negroes that was started up here the first year after the War. Major
+Knox, he was left like a sort of Justice of Peace to get things to going
+smooth after the War. I went to school there about three months, then Ma
+took sick, and I didn't go no more. My white teacher was Miss Sarah, and
+she was from Chicago.</p>
+
+<p>"Now and then the Negroes bought a little land, and white folks gave
+little places to some Negroes what had been good slaves for 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't take in about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. A long
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.090087" id="v.043p.090087"></a>[087]</span>
+time after the War,
+I heard 'em say he got killed. I knowed Mr. Jeff. Davis was President of
+the Confederacy. As for Booker Washington, I never saw him, but I heard
+his son whan he was here once and gave a musical of some sort at the
+Congregational Church.</p>
+
+<p>"I was a old gal when I married 'bout thirty or forty years after the
+War. I married George McIntosh. Wedding clothes!" she chuckled, and
+said: "I didn't have many. I bought 'em second hand from Mrs. Ed. Bond.
+They was nice though. The dress I married in was red silk. We had a
+little cake and wine; no big to do, just a little fambly affair. Of our
+four chillun, two died young, and two lived to git grown. My daughter
+was a school teacher and she has been dead sometime. I stays wid my only
+living child. My husban' died a long time ago.</p>
+
+<p>"I cooked and washed for Mr. Prince Hodgson for thirty years. Miss Mary
+Franklin used to tell me 'bout all them strange places she had been to
+while she was paintin'. There never was nobody in this town could paint
+prettier pictures than Miss Mary's.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad slavery is over. I'm too old to really work anymore, but I'm
+like a fish going down the crick and if he sees a bug he will catch him
+if he can.</p>
+
+<p>"I joined the church 'cause I believe in the Son of God. I know he is a
+forgiving God, and will give me a place to rest after I am gone from the
+earth. Everybody ought to 'pare for the promised land, where they can
+live always after they are done with this world."</p>
+
+<p>After the interview, she said: "Honey, this is the most I have talked
+about slavery days in twelve years; and I believe what I told you is
+right. Of course, lots has faded from my mind about it now."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.091088" id="v.043p.091088"></a>[088]</span>
+
+<a name="McKinneyMatilda"></a>
+
+<h3>District #7<br />
+Adella S. Dixon, Macon, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+MATILDA McKINNEY<br />
+100 Empire Avenue, Macon, Georgia<br />
+[Date Stamp: JUL 28 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Matilda McKinney was born in Texas but was brought to southwest Georgia,
+near Albany, at an early age. Her mother, Amy Dean, had eight children,
+of which Aunt Matilda is the eldest. The plantation on which they lived
+was owned by Mr. Milton Ball, and it varied little in size or
+arrangement from the average one of that time. Here was found the usual
+two-story white house finished with high columns and surrounded by
+trees.</p>
+
+<p>Most of the Negro mothers did field work, so it was necessary for others
+to care for the children. Mr. Ball handled this problem in the usual
+way. He established what would today be called a day nursery. Each
+mother brought her offspring to the home of an elderly woman before
+leaving for her day's work. Here, they were safely kept until their
+parents returned. The midday meal for everyone was prepared at the Big
+House and the slaves were served from huge tubs of vegetables and pots
+of meat. "Aunt" Julia was responsible for the children's noon meal.</p>
+
+<p>When "Aunt" Matilda was old enough to do a little work, she was moved
+into the house where she swept floors, waited on the table, and fanned
+flies while a meal was being served. The adult females who lived in the
+house did most of the weaving and sewing. All the summer, garments were
+made and put away for winter use. Two
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.092089" id="v.043p.092089"></a>[089]</span>
+dresses of osnaburg were then
+given each person.</p>
+
+<p>The field hands, always considered an inferior group by the house
+servants, worked from sunup to sundown. When they returned from the
+fields they prepared supper for their families and many times had to
+feed the children in the dark, for a curfew horn was blown and no lights
+could be lighted after its warning note had sounded. There was very
+little visiting to or from the group which dwelt here, as the curfew
+hour was early.</p>
+
+<p>Saturday varied a little from the other week days. The field work was
+suspended in the afternoon to allow the mothers time to wash their
+clothing. With sunset came the preparations for the weekly frolic. A
+fiddler furnished music while the dancers danced numerous square dances
+until a late hour.</p>
+
+<p>Home remedies for illness were used much more extensively than any
+doctor's medicine. Teas, compounded from sage, boneset, tansy, and
+mullen, usually sufficed for any minor sickness, and serious illness was
+rare.</p>
+
+<p>Food was distributed on Sunday morning. Two-and-a-half pounds of meat, a
+quantity of syrup, and a peck of meal were given each adult for the
+week. A special ration for Sunday alone was potatoes, buttermilk, and
+material for biscuits. Each family had its own garden
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.093090" id="v.043p.093090"></a>[090]</span>
+from which a
+supply of vegetables could always be obtained in season. The smaller
+children had additional delicacies, for they early learned that the
+house where produce was kept had holes in the floor which yielded
+peanuts, etc, when punched with a stick.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt" Matilda was unable to give any information regarding the war, but
+remembers that her family remained at her former owner's plantation for
+some time after they were freed. She now lives with her granddaughter
+who takes excellent care of her. Her long life is attributed to her
+habit of going to bed early and otherwise caring for herself properly.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.094091" id="v.043p.094091"></a>[091]</span>
+
+<a name="McWhorterWilliam"></a>
+
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br />
+<br />
+WILLIAM McWHORTER, Age 78<br />
+383 W. Broad Street<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby<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'<br />
+Project<br />
+Residencies 6 &amp; 7<br />
+Augusta, Ga.<br />
+<br />
+Sept. 30, 1938</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.095092" id="v.043p.095092"></a>[092]</span>
+
+
+<p>The rambling, one-story frame building where William McWhorter makes his
+home with his cousin, Sarah Craddock, houses several families and is
+proudly referred to by the neighbors as "de 'partment house."</p>
+
+<p>William, better known as "Shug," is a very black man of medium build. He
+wore a black slouch hat pulled well down over tangled gray hair, a dingy
+blue shirt, soiled gray pants, and black shoes. The smile faded from his
+face when he learned the nature of the visit. "I thought you was de
+pension lady 'comin' to fetch me some money," he said, "and 'stid of dat
+you wants to know 'bout slavery days. I'se disapp'inted.</p>
+
+<p>"Mistess, it's been a long time since I was born on Marse Joe
+McWhorter's plantation down in Greene County and I was jus' a little
+fellow when slavery was done over wid. Allen and Martha McWhorter was my
+ma and pa. Pa, he was de carriage driver, and ma, she was a field hand.
+Dey brought her here from Oingebug (Orangeburg), South Carolina, and
+sold her to Marse Joe when she was jus' a little gal. Me and Annie,
+Ella, Jim, and Tom was all de chillun in our fambly, and none of us
+warn't big enough to do no wuk to speak of 'fore de end of de big war.
+You see, Mistess, it was lak dis; Marse Joe, he owned a old 'oman what
+didn't do nothin' 'cept stay at de house
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.096093" id="v.043p.096093"></a>[093]</span>
+and look atter us chillun, and
+dat was one of dem plantations whar dere was sho a heap of slave
+chillun.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout our houses? Mistess, I'se gwine to tell you de trufe, dem houses
+slaves had to live in, dey warn't much, but us didn't know no better
+den. Dey was jus' one-room log cabins wid stick and dirt chimblies. De
+beds for slaves was home-made and was held together wid cords wove evvy
+which away. If you didn't tighten dem cords up pretty offen your bed was
+apt to fall down wid you. Suggin sacks was sewed together to make our
+mattress ticks and dem ticks was filled wid straw. Now, don't tell me
+you ain't heared of suggin sacks a-fore! Dem was coarse sacks sort of
+lak de guano sacks us uses now. Dey crowded jus' as many Niggers into
+each cabin as could sleep in one room, and marriage never meant a thing
+in dem days when dey was 'rangin' sleepin' quarters for slaves. Why, I
+knowed a man what had two wives livin' in de same cabin; one of dem
+'omans had all boys and t'other one didn't have nothin' but gals. It's
+nigh de same way now, but dey don't live in de same house if a man's got
+two famblies.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'members dat my pa's ma, Grandma Cindy, was a field hand, but by de
+time I was old 'nough to take things in she was too old for dat sort of
+wuk and Marster let her do odd jobs 'round de big house. De most I seed
+her doin' was settin' 'round smokin' her old corncob pipe. I was named
+for Grandpa Billy, but I never seed him.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.097094" id="v.043p.097094"></a>[094]</span>
+
+<p>"Mistess, does you know what you'se axin'? Whar was slaves to git money
+whilst dey was still slaves? Dere warn't but a few of 'em dat knowed
+what money even looked lak 'til atter dey was made free.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, you is talkin' 'bout somepin sho 'nough when you starts 'bout dem
+victuals. Marse Joe, he give us plenty of sich as collards, turnips and
+greens, peas, 'taters, meat, and cornbread. Lots of de cornbread was
+baked in pones on spiders, but ashcakes was a mighty go in dem days.
+Marster raised lots of cane so as to have plenty of good syrup. My pa
+used to 'possum hunt lots and he was 'lowed to keep a good 'possum hound
+to trail 'em wid. Rabbits and squirrels was plentiful and dey made
+mighty good eatin'. You ain't never seed sich heaps of fish as slaves
+used to fetch back atter a little time spent fishin' in de cricks and de
+river.</p>
+
+<p>"De kitchen was sot off from de big house a little piece, but Old
+Marster had a roof built over de walkway so fallin' weather wouldn't
+spile de victuals whilst dey was bein' toted from de kitchen in de yard
+to de dinin' room in de big house. I don't reckon you ever seed as big a
+fireplace as de one dey cooked on in dat old kitchen. It had plenty of
+room for enough pots, skillets, spiders, and ovens to cook for all de
+folks on dat plantation. No, mam, slaves never had no gardens of deir
+own; dey never had no time of deir own to wuk
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.098095" id="v.043p.098095"></a>[095]</span>
+no garden, but Old Marster
+fed 'em from his garden and dat was big enough to raise plenty for all.</p>
+
+<p>"De one little cotton shirt dat was all chillun wore in summertime den
+warn't worth talkin' 'bout; dey called it a shirt but it looked more lak
+a long-tailed nightgown to me. For winter, our clothes was made of wool
+cloth and dey was nice and warm. Mistess, slaves never knowed what
+Sunday clothes was, 'cept dey did know dey had to be clean on Sunday. No
+matter how dirty you went in de week-a-days, you had to put on clean
+clothes Sunday mornin'. Uncle John Craddock made shoes for all de grown
+folks on our plantation, but chillun went barfoots and it never seemed
+to make 'em sick; for a fact, I b'lieves dey was stouter den dan dey is
+now.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Joe McWhorter and his wife, Miss Emily Key, owned us, and dey was
+jus' as good to us as dey could be. Mistess, you knows white folks had
+to make slaves what b'longed to 'em mind and be-have deyselfs in dem
+days or else dere woulda been a heap of trouble. De big fine house what
+Marse Joe and his fambly lived in sot in a cedar grove and Woodville was
+de town nighest de place. Oh! Yes, mam, dey had a overseer all right,
+but I'se done forgot his name, and somehow I can't git up de names of
+Marse Joe's chillun. I'se been sick so long my mem'ry ain't as good as
+it used to be, and since I lost my old 'oman 'bout 2 months ago, I don't
+'spect I ever kin reckomember much no more. It seems lak I'se done told
+you my pa was Marse Joe's
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.099096" id="v.043p.099096"></a>[096]</span>
+carriage driver. He driv de fambly
+whar-some-ever dey wanted to go.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't got no idee how many acres was in dat great big old plantation,
+but I'se heared 'em say Marse Joe had to keep from 30 to 40 slaves, not
+countin' chillun, to wuk dat part of it dat was cleared land. Dey told
+me, atter I was old enough to take it in, dat de overseer sho did drive
+dem slaves; dey had to be up and in de field 'fore sunup and he wuked
+'em 'til slap, black dark. When dey got back to de big house, 'fore dey
+et supper, de overseer got out his big bull whip and beat de ones dat
+hadn't done to suit him durin' de day. He made 'em strip off deir
+clothes down to de waist, and evvywhar dat old bull whip struck it split
+de skin. Dat was awful, awful! Sometimes slaves dat had been beat and
+butchered up so bad by dat overseer man would run away, and next day
+Aunt Suke would be sho to go down to de spring to wash so she could
+leave some old clothes dar for 'em to git at night. I'se tellin' you,
+slaves sho did fare common in dem days.</p>
+
+<p>"My Aunt Mary b'longed to Marse John Craddock and when his wife died and
+left a little baby&mdash;dat was little Miss Lucy&mdash;Aunt Mary was nussin' a
+new baby of her own, so Marse John made her let his baby suck too. If
+Aunt Mary was feedin' her own baby and Miss Lucy started cryin' Marse
+John would snatch her baby up by the legs and spank him, and tell
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.100097" id="v.043p.100097"></a>[097]</span>
+Aunt
+Mary to go on and nuss his baby fust. Aunt Mary couldn't answer him a
+word, but my ma said she offen seed Aunt Mary cry 'til de tears met
+under her chin.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't never heared nothin' 'bout no jails in slavery time. What dey
+done den was 'most beat de life out of de Niggers to make 'em be-have.
+Ma was brung to Bairdstown and sold on de block to Marse Joe long 'fore
+I was borned, but I ain't never seed no slaves sold. Lordy, Mistess,
+ain't nobody never told you it was agin de law to larn a Nigger to read
+and write in slavery time? White folks would chop your hands off for dat
+quicker dan dey would for 'most anything else. Dat's jus' a sayin',
+'chop your hands off.' Why, Mistess, a Nigger widout no hands wouldn't
+be able to wuk much, and his owner couldn't sell him for nigh as much as
+he could git for a slave wid good hands. Dey jus' beat 'em up bad when
+dey cotched 'em studyin' readin' and writin', but folks did tell 'bout
+some of de owners dat cut off one finger evvy time dey cotch a slave
+tryin' to git larnin'. How-some-ever, dere was some Niggers dat wanted
+larnin' so bad dey would slip out at night and meet in a deep gully whar
+dey would study by de light of light'ood torches; but one thing sho, dey
+better not let no white folks find out 'bout it, and if dey was lucky
+'nough to be able to keep it up 'til dey larned to read de Bible, dey
+kept it a close secret.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.101098" id="v.043p.101098"></a>[098]</span>
+
+<p>"Slaves warn't 'lowed to have no churches of dey own and dey had to go
+to church wid de white folks. Dere warn't no room for chillun in de
+Baptist church at Bairdstown whar Marse Joe tuk his grown-up slaves to
+meetin', so I never did git to go to none, but he used to take my ma
+along, but she was baptized by a white preacher when she jined up wid
+dat church. De crick was nigh de church and dat was whar dey done de
+baptizin'.</p>
+
+<p>"None of our Niggers never knowed enough 'bout de North to run off up
+dar. Lak I done told you, some of 'em did run off atter a bad beatin',
+but dey jus' went to de woods. Some of 'em come right on back, but some
+didn't; Us never knowed whar dem what didn't come back went. Show me a
+slavery-time Nigger dat ain't heared 'bout paterollers! Mistess, I 'clar
+to goodness, paterollers was de devil's own hosses. If dey cotched a
+Nigger out and his Marster hadn't fixed him up wid a pass, it was jus'
+too bad; dey most kilt him. You couldn't even go to de Lord's house on
+Sunday 'less you had a ticket sayin': 'Dis Nigger is de propity of Marse
+Joe McWhorter. Let him go.'</p>
+
+<p>"Dere warn't never no let-up when it come to wuk. When slaves come in
+from de fields atter sundown and tended de stock and et supper, de mens
+still had to shuck corn, mend hoss collars, cut wood, and sich lak; de
+'omans mended clothes, spun thread, wove cloth, and some of 'em had to
+go up to de big house
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.102099" id="v.043p.102099"></a>[099]</span>
+and nuss de white folks' babies. One night my ma
+had been nussin' one of dem white babies, and atter it dozed off to
+sleep she went to lay it in its little bed. De child's foot cotch itself
+in Marse Joe's galluses dat he had done hung on de foot of de bed, and
+when he heared his baby cry Marse Joe woke up and grabbed up a stick of
+wood and beat ma over de head 'til he 'most kilt her. Ma never did seem
+right atter dat and when she died she still had a big old knot on her
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey said on some plantations slaves was let off from wuk when de dinner
+bell rung on Saddays, but not on our'n; dere warn't never no let-up 'til
+sundown on Sadday nights atter dey had tended to de stock and et supper.
+On Sundays dey was 'lowed to visit 'round a little atter dey had 'tended
+church, but dey still had to be keerful to have a pass wid 'em. Marse
+Joe let his slaves have one day for holiday at Christmas and he give 'em
+plenty of extra good somepin t'eat and drink on dat special day. New
+Year's Day was de hardest day of de whole year, for de overseer jus'
+tried hisself to see how hard he could drive de Niggers dat day, and
+when de wuk was all done de day ended off wid a big pot of cornfield
+peas and hog jowl to eat for luck. Dat was s'posed to be a sign of
+plenty too.</p>
+
+<p>"Cornshuckin's was a mighty go dem days, and folks from miles and miles
+around was axed. When de wuk was done dey had a big time eatin',
+drinkin', wrestlin', dancin', and all sorts of frolickin'. Even wid all
+dat liquor flowin'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.103100" id="v.043p.103100"></a>[100]</span>
+so free at cornshuckin's I never heared of nobody
+gittin' mad, and Marse Joe never said a cross word at his cornshuckin's.
+He allus picked bright moonshiny nights for dem big cotton pickin's, and
+dere warn't nothin' short 'bout de big eats dat was waitin' for dem
+Niggers when de cotton was all picked out. De young folks danced and cut
+up evvy chanct dey got and called deyselfs havin' a big time.</p>
+
+<p>"Games? Well, 'bout de biggest things us played when I was a chap was
+baseball, softball, and marbles. Us made our own marbles out of clay and
+baked 'em in de sun, and our baseballs and softballs was made out of
+rags.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I know anything 'bout ghosties? Yes, mam, I sees ha'nts and
+ghosties any time. Jus' t'other night I seed a man widout no head, and
+de old witches 'most nigh rides me to death. One of 'em got holt of me
+night 'fore last and 'most choked me to death; she was in de form of a
+black cat. Mistess, some folks say dat to see things lak dat is a sign
+your blood is out of order. Now, me, I don't know what makes me see 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Joe tuk mighty good keer of sick slaves. He allus called in a
+doctor for 'em, and kept plenty of castor ile, turpentine, and de lak on
+hand to dose 'em wid. Miss Emily made teas out of a heap of sorts of
+leaves, barks, and roots, sich as butterfly root, pine tops, mullein,
+catnip and mint leaves, feverfew grass, red oak bark, slippery ellum
+bark, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.104101" id="v.043p.104101"></a>[101]</span>
+black gum chips. Most evvybody had to wear little sacks of
+papaw seeds or of assyfizzy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off
+diseases.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey used to say dat a free Nigger from de North come through de South
+and seed how de white folks was treatin' his race, den he went back up
+der and told folks 'bout it and axed 'em to holp do somepin' 'bout it.
+Dat's what I heared tell was de way de big war got started dat ended in
+settin' slaves free. My folks said dat when de Yankee sojers come
+through, Miss Emily was cryin' and takin' on to beat de band. She had
+all her silver in her apron and didn't know whar to hide it, so atter
+awhile she handed it to her cook and told her to hide it. De cook put it
+in de woodpile. De Yankee mens broke in de smokehouse, brought out meat
+and lard, kilt chickens, driv off cows and hosses, but dey never found
+Miss Emily's silver. It was a long time 'fore our fambly left Marse
+Joe's place.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Joe never did tell his Niggers dey was free. One day one of dem
+Yankee sojers rid through de fields whar dey was wukin' and he axed 'em
+if dey didn't know dey was as free as deir Marster. Dat Yankee kept on
+talkin' and told em dey didn't have to stay on wid Marse Joe 'less dey
+wanted to, end dey didn't have to do nothin' nobody told 'em to if dey
+didn't want to do it. He said dey was deir own bosses and was to do as
+dey pleased from de time of de surrender.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.105102" id="v.043p.105102"></a>[102]</span>
+
+<p>"Schools was sot up for slaves not long atter dey was sot free, and a
+few of de old Marsters give deir Niggers a little land, but not many of
+'em done dat. Jus' as de Niggers was branchin' out and startin' to live
+lak free folks, dem nightriders come 'long beatin', cuttin', and
+slashin' 'em up, but I 'spects some of dem Niggers needed evvy lick dey
+got.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mistess, you knows all Niggers would ruther be free, and I ain't
+no diffunt from nobody else 'bout dat. Yes, mam, I'se mighty glad Mr.
+Abraham Lincoln and Jeff Davis fit 'til dey sot us free. Dat Jeff Davis
+ought to be 'shamed of hisself to want Niggers kept in bondage; dey says
+dough, dat he was a mighty good man, and Miss Millie Rutherford said
+some fine things 'bout him in her book what Sarah read to me, but you
+can't 'spect us Niggers to b'lieve he was so awful good.</p>
+
+<p>"Me and Rosa Barrow had a pretty fair weddin' and a mighty fine supper.
+I don't ricollect what she had on, but I'se tellin' you she looked
+pretty and sweet to me. Our two boys and three gals is done growed up
+and I'se got three grandchillun now. Rosa, she died out 'bout 2 months
+ago and I'se gwine to marry agin soon as I finds somebody to take keer
+of me.</p>
+
+<p>"I was happier de day I jined de church at
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.106103" id="v.043p.106103"></a>[103]</span>
+Sander's Chapel, dan I'se
+been since. It was de joyfullest day of all my life, so far. Folks ought
+to git ready for a better world dan dis to live in when dey is finished
+on dis earth, and I'se sho glad our Good Lord saw fit to set us free
+from sin end slavery. If he hadn't done it, I sho would have been dead
+long ago. Yistidday I picked a little cotton to git me some bread, and
+it laid me out. I can't wuk no more. I don't know how de Blessed Lord
+means to provide for me but I feels sho He ain't gwine to let me
+perish."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.107104" id="v.043p.107104"></a>[104]</span>
+
+<a name="MaloneMolly"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 6:<br />
+Ex-Slave #72]<br />
+<br />
+Henrietta Carlisle<br />
+Alberta Minor<br />
+Re-search Workers<br />
+<br />
+MOLLIE MALONE&mdash;EX-SLAVE<br />
+Route B, Griffin, Georgia<br />
+Interviewed<br />
+<br />
+September 16, 1936<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Mollie was born on a plantation owned by Mr Valentine Brook, near Locust
+Grove, Georgia. Mr. Brook died before the War and his wife, "the widder
+Brock", ran the plantation.</p>
+
+<p>Slaves not needed on the home plantation were "hired out" to other land
+owners for from $200.00 to $300.00 a year. This was done the first of
+each year by an auction from a "horse block". When Mollie was seven
+months old her mother, Clacy Brock, was "hired out" and she was taken
+care of by two old Negroes, too old to work, and who did nothing but
+care for the little "Niggers". Mollie grew up with these children
+between the "big house" and the kitchen. When she was old enough she was
+"put to mind" the smaller children and if they did'nt behave she pinched
+them, but "when the 'ole Miss found it out, she'd sure 'whup me'", she
+said. These children were fed cornbread and milk for breakfast and
+supper, and "pot licker" with cornbread for dinner. They slept in a
+large room on quilts or pallets. Each night the larger children were
+given so many "cuts" to spin, and were punished if all weren't finished.
+The thread was woven into cloth on the loom and made into clothes by the
+slaves who did the sewing. There were no "store bought" clothes, and
+Mollie was free before she
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.108105" id="v.043p.108105"></a>[105]</span>
+ever owned a pair of shoes. Clothes had to be
+furnished by the owner for the slaves he "hired out".</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Brock had two daughters, Margaret and Mary Anne, who led
+very quiet secluded lives. Mollie remembers visits of the traveling
+preacher, who conducted services in a nearby church once a month. The
+slaves walked behind the White folks' carriages to and from the church,
+where they were seated in the rear during the services. If there were
+baptisms, the Whites were baptized first, then the Darkies.</p>
+
+<p>On this plantation the Negroes were not allowed to engage in any frolics
+or attend social gatherings. They only knew Christmas by the return of
+the hired out slaves, who came home for a week before the next auction.</p>
+
+<p>The young lady daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Brock wore "drag tail" dresses,
+and Mollie says the little Negroes had to hold these long skirts off the
+ground whenever they were out doors, then spread them as they went into
+the house so they could "strut."</p>
+
+<p>The children were not allowed any education other than the "old Miss"
+reading them the Bible on Sunday afternoons.</p>
+
+<p>The older Negroes were not allowed to visit on other plantations often,
+but when they did go they had to have passes
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.109106" id="v.043p.109106"></a>[106]</span>
+from their masters or the
+"patarolers" would whip them&mdash;if they were caught.</p>
+
+<p>Hoar-hound and penny-royal were used for minor ailments, and "varnish"
+was put on cuts by the "ole Miss". Mollie doesn't remember ever seeing a
+doctor, other than a mid-wife, on the plantation. Home made remedies for
+"palpitation of the heart" was to wear tied around the neck a piece of
+lead, pounded into the shape of the heart, and punched with nine holes,
+or to get some one "not kin to you", to tie some salt in a small bag and
+wear it over your heart. Toothache was cured by smoking a pipe of "life
+everlasting", commonly called "rabbit tobacco". Headaches were stopped
+by beating the whites of an egg stiff, adding soda and putting on a
+cloth, then tying around the head.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brock died before the War, consequently not having any men to go
+from the plantation, Mollie knew very little about it. She remembers
+Confederate soldiers "practicin" at Locust Grove, the nearest town, and
+one time the Yankees came to the plantation and "took off" a horse Mrs.
+Brock had hidden in the swamp, also all the silver found buried.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie knew nothing of the freedom of the slaves until her mother came
+to get her. For two years they "hired out" on a farm in Butts County,
+where they worked in the fields.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.110107" id="v.043p.110107"></a>[107]</span>
+Several times in later years Mollie
+returned to the Brock plantation to see "the ole Miss" and the young
+Misses. Mrs. Brock and her daughters, who had never married, died on the
+plantation where they had always lived.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie's family "knocked around awhile", and then came to Griffin where
+they have since made their home. She became a familiar figure driving an
+ox-cart on the streets and doing odd jobs for White families and leading
+a useful life in the community. Besides her own family, Mollie has
+raised fifteen orphaned Negro children. She is approximately ninety
+years old, being "about growd" when the War ended.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.111108" id="v.043p.111108"></a>[108]</span>
+
+<a name="MasonCarrie"></a>
+
+<h3>District Two<br />
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br />
+<br />
+AUNT CARRIE MASON<br />
+Milledgeville, Georgia<br />
+(Baldwin County)<br />
+<br />
+Written By:<br />
+Mrs. Estelle G. Burke<br />
+Research Worker<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Milledgeville, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Edited By:<br />
+John N. Booth<br />
+Asst. District Supervisor<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+July 7, 1937<br />
+[Date Stamp: JUL 20 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.112109" id="v.043p.112109"></a>[109]</span>
+
+
+<p>"Howdy, Miss, Howdy. Come on in. George is poly today. My grandchillun
+is doin' a little cleanin' up fer me 'cause us thinks George ain't got
+long on this earth an' us don' want de place ter be dirty an' all when
+he's gone."</p>
+
+<p>The home of Aunt Carrie and Uncle George Mason, a two-room cabin
+surrounded by a dirty yard, stands in a clearing. Old tin cans, bottles,
+dusty fruit jars, and piles of rat-tail cotton from gutted mattresses
+littered the place. An immense sugarberry tree, beautifully
+proportioned, casts inviting shade directly in front of the stoop. It is
+the only redeeming feature about the premises. Aunt Carrie, feeble and
+gray haired, hobbled out in the yard with the aid of a stick.</p>
+
+<p>"Have a seat, Miss. Dat cheer is all right. It won't fall down. Don't
+git yo' feet wet in dat dirty water. My grandchillun is scourin' terday.
+Effen yer want to, us'll set under de tree. Dey's a cool breeze dar all
+de time.</p>
+
+<p>"You wants to fin' out my age an' all? Law Miss, I don' know how ole I
+is. George is nigh 'bout 90. I 'members my mammy said I wuz bawn a mont'
+or two 'fore freedom wuz 'clared. Yas'um I rekymembers all 'bout de
+Yankees. How cum I 'members 'bout dem an' de war wuz over den? I cain't
+tell yer dat, but I knows I 'members seein' 'em in de big road. It
+mought not uv
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.113110" id="v.043p.113110"></a>[110]</span>
+been Mister Sherman's mens but mammy said de Yankees wuz
+in de big road long after freedom wuz 'clared, and dey wuz down here
+gettin' things straight. Dey wuz sho' in er mess atter de war! Evvythin'
+wuz tore up an' de po' niggers didn't know which away to turn.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy's name wuz Catherine Bass an' my pappy wuz Ephriam Butts. Us
+b'longed ter Mars' Ben Bass an' my mammy had de same name ez marster
+twell she ma'ied pappy. He b'longed ter somebody else 'til marster
+bought him. Dey had ten chillun. No, mam, Mammy didn't have no doctor,"
+Aunt Carrie chuckled, "Didn't nobody hardly have a doctor in dem days.
+De white folks used yarbs an' ole 'omans to he'p 'em at dat time. Mammy
+had er ole 'oman whut lived on de place evvy time she had a little 'un.
+She had one evvy year too. She lost one. Dat chile run aroun' 'til she
+wuz one year ole an' den died wid de disentery.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had er right hard time in dem days. De beds us used den warn't like
+dese here nice beds us has nowadays. Don't you laugh, Berry, I knows
+dese beds us got now is 'bout to fall down," Aunt Carrie admonished her
+grandson when he guffawed at her statement, "You chilluns run erlong now
+an' git thoo' wid dat cleanin'." Aunt Carrie's spirits seemed dampened
+by Berry's rude laugh and it was several minutes before she started
+talking again. "Dese young folks don't know nuthin' 'bout hard times. Us
+wukked in de ole days frum before sunup
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.114111" id="v.043p.114111"></a>[111]</span>
+'til black night an' us knowed
+whut wuk wuz. De beds us slep' on had roun' postes made outen saplins of
+hickory or little pine trees. De bark wuz tuk off an' dey wuz rubbed
+slick an' shiny. De sprangs wuz rope crossed frum one side uv de bed to
+de udder. De mattress wuz straw or cotton in big sacks made outen
+osnaberg or big salt sacks pieced tergether. Mammy didn't have much soap
+an' she uster scrub de flo' wid sand an' it wuz jes ez white. Yas mam,
+she made all de soap us used, but it tuk a heap. We'uns cooked in de
+ashes an' on hot coals, but de vittals tasted a heap better'n dey does
+nowadays. Mammy had to wuk in de fiel' an' den cum home an' cook fer
+marster an' his fambly. I didn' know nuthin' 'bout it 'till atter
+freedom but I hyearn 'em tell 'bout it.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy an' pappy stayed on Marster's plantation 'til a year or mo' atter
+dey had dey freedom. Marster paid 'em wages an' a house ter stay in. He
+didn't hav' many slaves, 'bout 20, I reckon. My brothers wuz Berry,
+Dani'l, Ephriam, Tully, Bob, Lin, an' George. De yuthers I disremembers,
+caze dey lef' home when dey wuz big enough to earn dey livin' an' I jes
+don't recollec'.</p>
+
+<p>"Conjur' woman! Law miss, I aims ter git ter Hebem when I dies an' I
+show don't know how ter conjur' nobody. No mam, I ain't never seed no
+ghost. I allus pray to de Lord dat He spar' me dat trouble an' not let
+me see nary one. No good in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.115112" id="v.043p.115112"></a>[112]</span>
+folks plunderin' on dis earth atter dey
+leave here de fus time. Go 'way, dog."</p>
+
+<p>A spotted hound, lean and flop-eared was scratching industriously under
+Aunt Carrie's chair. It was a still summer day and the flies droned
+ceaselessly. A well nearby creaked as the dripping bucket was drawn to
+the top by a granddaughter who had come in from the field to get a cool
+drink. Aunt Carrie watched the girl for a moment and then went back to
+her story.</p>
+
+<p>"Effen my mammy or pappy ever runned away from Marster, I ain't heered
+tell uv it, but Mammy said dat when slaves did run away, dey wuz cotched
+an' whupped by de overseer. Effen a man or a 'oman kilt another one den
+dey wuz branded wid er hot i'on. Er big S wuz put on dey face somewhars.
+S stood fer 'slave, 'an' evvybody knowed dey wuz er mudderer. Marster
+din't have no overseer; he overseed hisself.</p>
+
+<p>"Why is George so white? 'Cause his marster wuz er white genemun named
+Mister Jimmie Dunn. His mammy wuz er cullud 'oman name' Frances Mason
+an' his marster wuz his paw. Yas mam, I see you is s'prised, but dat
+happ'ned a lots in dem days. I hyeared tell of er white man what would
+tell his sons ter 'go down ter dem nigger quarters an' git me mo'
+slaves.' Yas mam, when George wuz borned ter his mamny, his pappy wuz er
+white man an' he made George his overseer ez soon ez he wuz big e'nuf
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.116113" id="v.043p.116113"></a>[113]</span>
+ter boss de yuther slaves. I wish he wuz able to tell yer 'bout it, but
+since he had dat las' stroke he ain't been able ter talk none."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Carrie took an old clay pipe from her apron pocket and filled it
+with dry scraps of chewing tobacco. After lighting it she puffed quietly
+and seemed to be meditating. Finally she took it from her mouth and
+continued.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't had no eddication. I 'tended school part of one term but I wuz
+so skairt of my teacher that I couldn't larn nuthin'. He wuz a ole white
+man. He had been teachin' fer years an' years, but he had a cancer an'
+dey had done stopped him frum teachin' white chillun'. His name wuz
+Mister Bill Greer. I wuz skairt 'cause he was a white man. No mam, no
+white man ain't never harmed me, but I wuz skairt of him enyhow. One day
+he says to me, 'chile I ain't goin to hurt yer none 'cause I'm white.'
+He wuz a mighty good ole man. He would have larned us mo' but he died de
+nex' year. Mammy paid him ten cents a mont' a piece fer all us chillun.
+De boys would wuk fer dey money but I wuz the onliest gal an' Mammy
+wouldn't let me go off de plantation to make none. Whut I made dar I
+got, but I didn't make much 'til atter I ma'ied.</p>
+
+<p>"Law honey, does yer want to know 'bout my ma'ige? Well, I wuz 15 years
+ole an' I had a preacher to ma'y me. His name wuz Andrew Brown. In dem
+days us allus waited 'til de time of year when us had a big meetin' or
+at Christmus time. Den effen
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.117114" id="v.043p.117114"></a>[114]</span>
+one of us wanted ter git mai'ed, he would
+perform de weddin' atter de meetin' or atter Chris'mus celebratin'. I
+had er bluish worsted dress. I mai'ed in Jannywerry, right atter
+Chris'mus. At my mai'ge us had barbecue, brunswick stew, an' cake. De
+whole yard wuz full uv folks.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy wuz a 'ligous 'oman an' de fust day of Chris'mus she allus fasted
+ha'f a day an' den she would pray. Atter dat evvybody would hav' eggnog
+an' barbecue an' cake effen dey had de money to buy it. Mammy said dat
+when dey wuz still slaves Marster allus gived 'em Chris'mus, but atter
+dey had freedom den dey had ter buy dey own rations. Us would have
+banjer playin' an' dance de pijen-wing and de shuffle-toe.</p>
+
+<p>"No mam, George's pa didn' leave him no lan' when he died. Us went ter
+another farm an' rented when de mai'ge wuz over. George's pa warn't
+dead, but he didn't offer to do nuthin' fer us.</p>
+
+<p>"Yas'um, I'se had eight chilluns of my own. Us ain' never had no lan' us
+could call our'n. Us jes moved from one farm ter another all our days.
+This here lan' us is on now 'longs ter Mr. Cline. My son an' his chillun
+wuks it an' dey give us whut dey kin spare. De Red Cross lady he'ps us
+an' us gits along somehow or nother."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.118115" id="v.043p.118115"></a>[115]</span>
+
+<a name="MatthewsSusan"></a>
+
+<h3>Works Progress Administration<br />
+Harry L. Hopkins, Administrator<br />
+Ellen S. Woodward, Assistant Administrator<br />
+Henry S. Alsberg, Director of the Federal Writers' Project<br />
+<br />
+PLANTATION LIFE<br />
+<br />
+Interview with:<br />
+SUSAN MATTHEWS, Age 84<br />
+Madison Street,<br />
+Macon, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Ruth H. Sanford,<br />
+Macon, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Edited by:<br />
+Annie A. Rose,<br />
+Macon, Georgia</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.119116" id="v.043p.119116"></a>[116]</span>
+
+
+<p>Susan Matthews is an intelligent old negress, very tall and weighing
+close to two hundred pounds. Her eyes were bright, her "store-bought"
+teeth flashed in a smile as she expressed her willingness to tell us all
+she remembered "'bout ole times." In a tattered, faded print dress, a
+misshapen hat and ragged shoes, she sat enjoying the sunshine on the
+porch while she sewed on an underskirt she was making for herself from
+old sugar sacks. Her manner was cheerful; she seemed to get genuine
+enjoyment from the interview and gave us a hearty invitation to come to
+see her again.</p>
+
+<p>"I was jes a chile" she began, "when de white folks had slaves. My ma an
+her chillen wuz the onliest slaves my marster and mistis had. My pa
+belonged to some mo white folks that lived 'bout five miles from us. My
+marster and mistis were poor folks. They lived in a white frame house;
+it wuz jes a little house that had 'bout five rooms, I reckon. The house
+had a kitchen in the backyard and the house my ma lived wuz in the back
+yard too, but I wuz raised in my mistis' house. I slept in her room;
+slep' on the foot of her bed to keep her feets warm and everwhere my
+mistis went I went to. My marster and mistis wuz sho good to us an we
+loved 'em. My ma, she done the cooking and the washing fer the family
+and she could work in the fields jes lak a man. She could pick her three
+hundred pounds of cotton or pull as much fodder as any man. She wuz
+strong an she had a new baby mos' ev'y year. My marster and Mistis liked
+for to have a lot of chillen 'cause that helped ter make 'em richer."</p>
+
+<p>I didn't have much time fer playin' when I wus little cause I wuz allus
+busy waitin' on my mistis er taking care of my little brothers and
+sisters. But I did have a doll to play with. It wuz a rag doll an my
+mistis made it fer me. I wuz jes crazy 'bout that doll and I learned how
+to sew making clothes fer it. I'd make clothes fer it an wash an iron
+'em, and it wasn't long 'fo I knowed how to sew real good, an I been
+sewing ever since.</p>
+
+<p>My white folks wern't rich er tall but we always had plenty of somep'n
+to eat, and we had fire wood to keep us warm in winter too. We had
+plenty of syrup and corn bread, and when dey killed a hog we had fine
+sausage an chitlin's, an all sorts of good eating. My marster and the
+white an collored boys would go hunting, and we had squirrels an rabbits
+an possums jes lots of time. Yessum, we had plenty; we never did go
+hongry.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I remember 'bout the Yankees coming?, Yes ma'am, I sho does. The
+white chillen an us had been looking fer 'em and looking fer 'em. We
+wanted 'em to come. We knowed 'twould be fun to see 'em. And sho 'nuf
+one day I was out in de front yard to see and I seed a whole passel of
+men in blue coats coming down de road. I hollered "Here come de
+Yankees". I knowed 'twuz dem an my mistis an my ma an ev'y body come out
+in the front yard to see 'em. The Yankees stopped an the leading man
+with the straps on his shoulders talked to us an de men got water outen
+de well. No'm, they didn't take nothing an they hurt nothing. After a
+while they jes went on down the road; they sho looked hot an dusty an
+tired.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.120117" id="v.043p.120117"></a>[117]</span>
+
+<p>"After de war wuz over my pa, he comed up to our house an got my ma an
+all us chillen an carries us down to his marster's place. I didn't want
+ter go cause I loved my mistis an she cried when we left. My pa's ole
+marster let him have some land to work on shares. My pa wuz a hard
+worker an we helped him an in a few years he bought a little piece of
+land an he owned it till he died. 'Bout once er twice a year we'd all go
+back ter see our mistis. She wuz always glad to see us an treated us
+fine.</p>
+
+<p>"After de war a white woman started a school fer nigger chillen an my pa
+sent us. This white lady wuz a ole maid an wuz mighty poor. She an her
+ma lived by dereselves, I reckon her pa had done got kilt in de war. I
+don't know 'bout that but I knows they wuz mighty poor an my pa paid her
+fer teaching us in things to eat from his farm. We didn't never have no
+money. I loved to go to school; I had a blue back speller an I learned
+real quick but we didn't get ter go all the time. When there wuz work
+ter do on the farm we had ter stop an do it.</p>
+
+<p>"Times warn't no better after de war wuz over an dey warnt no wuss. We
+wuz po before de war an we wuz po after de war. But we allus had somep'n
+to wear and plenty to eat an we never had no kick coming.</p>
+
+<p>"I never did get married. I'se a old maid nigger, an they tells me you
+don't see old maid niggers. How come I ain't married I don't know. Seems
+like when I was young I seed somep'n wrong with all de mens that would
+come around. Then atter while I wuz kinder ole an they didn't come
+around no mo. Jes' last week a man come by here what used to co't me. He
+seed me settin here on the porch an I says 'Come on in an set a while',
+an he did. So maybe, I ain't through co'tin, maybe I'll get married
+yet." Here she laughed gleefully.</p>
+
+<p>When asked which she preferred freedom or slavery she replied, "Well,
+being free wuz all right while I wuz young but now I'm old an I wish I
+b'longed to somebody cause they would take keer of me an now I ain't got
+nobody to take keer of me. The government gives me eight dollars a month
+but that don't go fer enough. I has er hard time cause I can't git
+around an work like I used to."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.121118" id="v.043p.121118"></a>[118]</span>
+
+<a name="MaysEmily"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: DIST. 6<br />
+Ex-slave #77]<br />
+<br />
+Alberta Minor<br />
+Re-search Worker<br />
+<br />
+EMILY MAYS<br />
+East Solomon Street,<br />
+Griffin, Georgia<br />
+Interviewed<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Emily was born in 1861 on the Billy Stevens plantation in Upson County.
+Her mother, Betsy Wych, was born at Hawkinsville, Georgia, and sold to
+Mr. Billy Stevens. The father, Peter Wych, was born in West Virginia. A
+free man, he was part Indian and when driving a team of oxen into
+Virginia for lime, got into the slave territory, was overtaken by a
+"speculator" and brought to Georgia where he was sold to the Wyches of
+Macon. He cooked for them at their Hotel, "The Brown House" for a number
+of years, then was sold "on the block" to Mr. Stevens of Upson County.
+Betsy was sold at this same auction. Betsy and Peter were married by
+"jumping the broomstick" after Mr. Stevens bought them. They had sixteen
+children, of which Emily is the next to the last. She was always a
+"puny", delicate child and her mother died when she was about seven
+years old. She heard people tell her father that she "wasn't intented to
+be raised" 'cause she was so little and her mother was "acomin' to get
+her soon." Hearing this kind of remarks often had a depressing effect
+upon the child, and she "watched the clouds" all the time expecting her
+mother and was "bathed in tears" most of the time.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.122119" id="v.043p.122119"></a>[119]</span>
+
+<p>After the war, Peter rented a "patch" from Mr. Kit Parker and the whole
+family worked in the fields except Emily. She was not big enough so they
+let her work in the "big house" until Mrs. Parker's death. She helped
+"'tend" the daughter's babies, washed and ironed table napkins and
+waited on them "generally" for which she can't remember any "pay", but
+they fed and clothed her.</p>
+
+<p>Her older sister learned to weave when she was a slave, and helped sew
+for the soldiers; so after freedom she continued making cloth and sewing
+for the family while the others worked in the fields. [Buttons were made
+from dried gourds.] They lived well, raising more on their patch than
+they could possibly use and selling the surplus. For coffee they split
+and dried sweet potatoes, ground and parched them.</p>
+
+<p>The only education Emily received was at the "Sugar Hill" Sunday School.
+They were too busy in the spring for social gatherings, but after the
+crops were harvested, they would have "corn shuckings" where the Negroes
+gathered from neighboring farms and in three or four days time would
+finish at one place then move on to the next farm. It was quite a social
+gathering and the farm fed all the guests with the best they had.</p>
+
+<p>The Prayer Meetings and "singings" were other pleasant diversions from
+the daily toil.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.123120" id="v.043p.123120"></a>[120]</span>
+
+<p>After Mrs. Parker's death Emily worked in her father's fields until she
+was married to Aaron Mays, then she came to Griffin where she has lived
+ever since. She is 75 years old and has cooked for "White folks" until
+she was just too old to "see good", so she now lives with her daughter.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.124121" id="v.043p.124121"></a>[121]</span>
+
+<a name="MentionLiza"></a>
+
+<h3>INTERVIEW WITH LIZA MENTION<br />
+BEECH ISLAND, S.C.<br />
+<br />
+Written and Edited By:<br />
+Leila Harris<br />
+and<br />
+John N. Booth<br />
+<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Augusta, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+March 25, 1938</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.125122" id="v.043p.125122"></a>[122]</span>
+
+
+<p>"Come right in. Have a seat. I'll be glad to tell you anything I can
+'bout dem early days", said Liza Mention. "Course I warn't born till de
+second year atter freedom, so I don't 'member nothin' 'bout all dat
+fightin' durin' de war. I'se sho' glad I warn't born in slavery from
+what I heared 'em tell 'bout dem patterollers ketchin' and beatin' up
+folks." Liza's house, a 2-room hut with a narrow front porch, stands in
+a peaceful spot on the edge of the Wilson plantation at Beech Island,
+South Carolina. A metal sign on the door which revealed that the
+property is protected by a theft insurance service aroused wonder as to
+what Liza had that could attract a burglar. The bedroom was in extreme
+disorder with clothing, shoes, bric-a-brac, and just plain junk
+scattered about. The old Negress had been walking about the sunshiny
+yard and apologized for the mess by saying that she lived alone and did
+as she pleased. "Folks says I oughtn't to stay here by myself," she
+remarked, "but I laks to be independent. I cooked 25 years for de Wilson
+fambly and dey is gonna let me have dis house free 'til I die 'cause I
+ain't able to do no work."</p>
+
+<p>Liza's close-fitting hat pinned her ears to her head. She wore a dress
+that was soiled and copiously patched and her worn out brogans were
+several sizes too large. Ill health probably accounts for this
+untidiness for, as she expressed it, "when I gits up I hate to set down
+and when I sets down, I hates to git up, my knees hurts me so,"
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.126123" id="v.043p.126123"></a>[123]</span>
+however,
+her face broke into a toothless grin on the slightest provocation.</p>
+
+<p>"I wuz born up on de Reese's place in McDuffie County near Thomson,
+Georgia. When I wuz chillun us didn't know nothin' 'bout no wuk," she
+volunteered. "My ma wuz a invalis (invalid) so when I wuz 6 years old
+she give me to her sister over here at Mr. Ed McElmurray's place to
+raise. I ain't never knowed who my pa wuz. Us chaps played all de time
+wid white chillun jus' lak dey had all been Niggers. Chillun den didn't
+have sense lak dey got now; us wuz satisfied jus' to play all de time. I
+'members on Sundays us used to take leaves and pin 'em together wid
+thorns to make usselves dresses and hats to play in. I never did go to
+school none so I don't know nothin' 'bout readin' and writin' and
+spellin'. I can't spell my own name, but I think it begins wid a M.
+Hit's too late to study 'bout all dat now 'cause my old brain couldn't
+learn nothin'. Hit's done lost most all of what little I did know.</p>
+
+<p>"Back in dem times, folkses cooked on open fireplaces in winter time and
+in summer dey built cook stands out in de yard to set de spiders on, so
+us could cook and eat outdoors. Dere warn't no stoves nowhar. When us
+wuz hard up for sompin' green to bile 'fore de gyardens got goin' good,
+us used to go out and git wild mustard, poke salad, or pepper grass. Us
+et 'em satisfactory and dey never kilt us. I have et heaps of kinds of
+diffunt weeds and I still eats a mess of poke salad once or twice a year
+'cause it's good for you. Us cooked a naked hunk of fat meat in a pot
+wid some corn dumplin's.
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.127124" id="v.043p.127124"></a>[124]</span>
+De grown folks would eat de meat and de chilluns would sit around on de
+floor and eat de potlikker and dumplin's out of tin pans. Us enjoyed dat
+stuff jus' lak it had been pound cake.</p>
+
+<p>"Dances in dem days warn't dese here huggin' kind of dances lak dey has
+now. Dere warn't no Big Apple nor no Little Apple neither. Us had a
+house wid a raised flatform (platform) at one end whar de music-makers
+sot. Dey had a string band wid a fiddle, a trumpet, and a banjo, but
+dere warn't no guitars lak dey has in dis day. One man called de sets
+and us danced de cardrille (quadrille) de virginia reel, and de 16-hand
+cortillion. When us made syrup on de farm dere would always be a candy
+pullin'. Dat homemade syrup made real good candy. Den us would have a
+big time at corn shuckin's too.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe in no conjuration. Ain't nobody never done nothin' to
+me but I have seed people dat other folks said had been hurt. If
+somebody done somethin' to me I wouldn't know whar to find a root-worker
+to take it off and anyways I wouldn't trust dem sort of folks 'cause if
+dey can cyore you dey can kill you too.</p>
+
+<p>"I'se a member of de Silver Bluff Baptist Church, and I been goin' to
+Sunday School dar nearly ever since I can 'member. You know dey say
+dat's de oldest Nigger church in de country. At fust a white man come
+from Savannah and de church wuz built for his family and dey slaves.
+Later dere wuz so many colored members de white folks come out and built
+another house so de niggers could have de old one. When dat ole church
+wuz tore down, de colored folks worshipped for a long time in a goat
+house and den in a brush arbor.
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.128125" id="v.043p.128125"></a>[125]</span>
+"Some folks calls it de Dead River Church 'cause it used to be near Dead
+River and de baptisin' wuz done dar for a long time. I wuz baptised dar
+myself and I loves de old spot of ground. I has tried to be a good
+church member all my life but it's hard fer me to get a nickel or a dime
+for preacher money now."</p>
+
+<p>When asked if people in the old days got married by jumping over a broom
+she made a chuckling sound and replied: "No, us had de preacher but us
+didn't have to buy no license and I can't see no sense in buyin' a
+license nohow, 'cause when dey gits ready to quit, dey just quits."</p>
+
+<p>Liza brought an old Bible from the other room in which she said she kept
+the history of the old church. There were also pictures from some of her
+"white folks" who had moved to North Carolina. "My husband has been daid
+for 40 years," she asserted, "and I hasn't a chile to my name, nobody to
+move nothin' when I lays it down and nobody to pick nothin' up. I gets
+along pretty well most of de time though, but I wishes I could work so I
+would feel more independent."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.129126" id="v.043p.129126"></a>[126]</span>
+
+<a name="MillerHarriet"></a>
+
+<h3>District Two<br />
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br />
+<br />
+AUNT HARRIET MILLER<br />
+Toccoa, Georgia<br />
+(Stephens County)<br />
+<br />
+Written By:<br />
+Mrs. Annie Lee Newton<br />
+Research Worker<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Edited By:<br />
+John N. Booth<br />
+Asst. District Supervisor<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+July 15, 1937</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.130127" id="v.043p.130127"></a>[127]</span>
+
+
+<p>Aunt Harriet Miller, a chipper and spry Indian Half-breed, thinks she is
+about 100 years old. It is remarkable that one so old should possess so
+much energy and animation. She is tall and spare, with wrinkled face,
+bright eyes, a kindly expression, and she wears her iron grey hair wound
+in a knob in the manner of a past generation. Aunt Harriet was neatly
+dressed as she had just returned from a trip to Cornelia to see some of
+her folks. She did not appear at all tired from the trip, and seemed
+glad to discuss the old days.</p>
+
+<p>"My father," said Aunt Harriet, "was a Cherokee Indian named Green
+Norris, and my mother was a white woman named Betsy Richards. You see, I
+am mixed. My mother give me to Mr. George Naves when I was three years
+old. He lived in de mountains of South Carolina, just across de river.
+He didn't own his home. He was overseer for de Jarretts, old man Kennedy
+Jarrett. Honey, people was just like dey is now, some good and some bad.
+Mr. Naves was a good man. Dese here Jarretts was good to deir slaves but
+de &mdash;&mdash;s was mean to deirs. My whitefolks tried to send me to school but
+de whitefolks wouldn't receive me in deir school on account of I was
+mixed, and dere warn't no colored school a t'all, nowhere. Some of de
+white ladies taught deir slaves. Yes'm, some of 'em did. Now, Miss
+Sallie Jarrett, dat was Mrs. Bob Jarrett's daughter, used to teach 'em
+some.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.131128" id="v.043p.131128"></a>[128]</span>
+
+<p>"Slaves had half a day off on Saturday. Dey had frolics at night,
+quiltings, dances, corn-shuckings, and played de fiddle. Dey stayed in
+de quarters Sunday or went to church. Dey belonged to de same church wid
+de whitefolks. I belonged to Old Liberty Baptist Church. De back seats
+was whar de slaves set. Dey belonged to de same church just like de
+whitefolks, but I wasn't with 'em much." As a child, Aunt Harriet
+associated with white people, and played with white children, but when
+she grew up, had to turn to negroes for companionship.</p>
+
+<p>"If slaves stayed in deir places dey warn't never whipped or put in
+chains. When company come I knowed to get out doors. I went on to my
+work. I was treated all right. I don't remember getting but three
+whippings in my life. Old Mistis had brown sugar, a barrel of sugar
+setting in de dinin' room. She'd go off and she'd come back and ask me
+'bout de sugar. She'd get after me 'bout it and I'd say I hadn't took
+it, and den when she turned my dress back and whipped me I couldn't
+hardly set down. She whipped me twice 'bout the sugar and den she let me
+alone. 'Twasn't de sugar she whipped me 'bout, but she was trying to get
+me to tell de truth. Yes'm, dat was de best lesson dat ever I learned,
+to tell de truth, like David.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a large fambly. Lets see, I had ten chillun, two of 'em dead, and
+I believes 'bout 40 grand-chillun. I could count 'em. Last time I was
+counting de great-grandchillun dere was 37 but some have come in since
+den. Maggie has 11 chillun. Maggie's husband is a farmer and dey lives
+near Eastonallee. Lizzie, her husband is dead and she lives wid a
+daughter in Chicago, has 5 chillun. Den Media has two.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.132129" id="v.043p.132129"></a>[129]</span>
+Her husband,
+Hillary Campbell, works for de Govemint, in Washington. Lieutenant has
+six; he farms. Robert has six; Robert is a regular old farmer and Sunday
+School teacher. Davey has four, den Luther has seven, and dat leaves
+Jim, my baby boy. He railroads and I lives wid him. Jim is 37. He ain't
+got no chillun. My husband, Judge Miller, been dead 37 years. He's
+buried at Tugalo. Dis old lady been swinging on a limb a long time and
+she going to swing off from here some time. I'm near about a hundred and
+I won't be here long, but when I go, I wants to go in peace wid
+everybody.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. I'd be 'feard to say dere ain't nothing in voo-doo. Some
+puts a dime in de shoe to keep de voo-doo away, and some carries a
+buckeye in de pocket to keep off cramp and colic. Dey say a bone dey
+finds in de jawbone of a hog will make chillun teethe easy. When de
+slaves got sick, de whitefolks looked after 'em. De medicines for
+sickness was nearly all yerbs. Dey give boneset for colds, made tea out
+of it, and acheing joints. Butterfly root and slippery elm bark was to
+cool fever. Willow ashes is good for a corn, poke root for rheumatism,
+and a syrup made of mullein, honey, and alum for colds. Dey use barks
+from dogwood, wild cherry, and clack haws, for one thing and another.
+I'll tell you what's good for pizen-oak, powdered alum and sweet cream.
+Beat it if it's lump alum, and put it in sweet cream, not milk, it has
+to be cream. Dere's lots of other remedies and things, but I'm getting
+so sap-skulled and I'm so old
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.133130" id="v.043p.133130"></a>[130]</span>
+I can't remember. Yes'm, I've got mighty
+trifling 'bout my remembrance.</p>
+
+<p>"Once some Indians camped on de river bottoms for three or four years,
+and we'd go down; me, and Anne, and Genia, nearly every Saturday, to
+hear 'em preach. We couldn't understand it. Dey didn't have no racket or
+nothing like colored folks. Dey would sing, and it sounded all right. We
+couldn't understand it, but dey enjoyed it. Dey worked and had crops.
+Dey had ponies, pretty ponies. Nobody never did bother 'em. Dey made
+baskets out of canes, de beautifulest baskets, and dey colored 'em wid
+dyes, natchel dyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Indian woman wore long dresses and beads. Deir hair was plaited and
+hanging down de back, and deir babyes was tied on a blanket on de back.
+Mens wore just breeches and feathers in deir hats. I wish you could have
+seen 'em a cooking. Dey would take corn dough, and den dey'd boil birds,
+make sort of long, not round dumplings, and drop 'em in a pot of hot
+soup. We thought dat was terrible, putting dat in de pot wid de birds.
+Dey had blow-guns and dey'd slip around, and first thing dey'd blow, and
+down come a bird. Dey'd kill a squirrel and ketch fish wid deir blow
+guns. Dem guns was made out of canes 'bout eight feet long, burned out
+at de j'ints for de barrel. Dey put in a arrow what had thistles on one
+end to make it go through quick and de other end sharp.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes honey, I believes in hants. I was going 'long,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.134131" id="v.043p.134131"></a>[131]</span>
+at nine o'clock one
+night 'bout the Denham fill and I heard a chain a rattling 'long de
+cross-ties. I couldn't see a thing and dat chain just a rattling as
+plain as if it was on dis floor. Back, since the war, dere was a
+railroad gang working 'long by dis fill, and de boss, Captain Wing,
+whipped a convict. It killed him, and de boss throwed him in de fill. I
+couldn't see a thing, and dat chain was just rattling right agai' de
+fill where dat convict had been buried. I believes de Lord took keer of
+me dat night and I hope he keeps on doing so."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.135132" id="v.043p.135132"></a>[132]</span>
+
+<a name="MitchellMollie"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br />
+Ex-Slave #75]<br />
+<br />
+Folklore<br />
+Alberta Minor<br />
+Re-search Worker<br />
+<br />
+MOLLIE MITCHELL, Ex Negro Slave<br />
+507 East Chappell Street<br />
+Griffin, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+August 31, 1936<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.136133" id="v.043p.136133"></a>[133]</span>
+
+
+<p>Mollie Mitchell, a white haired old darkey, 85 years old was born on the
+Newt Woodard plantation. It is the old Jackson Road near Beulah Church.
+Until she was 7 years old she helped about the house running errands for
+her "Missus", "tendin' babies", "sweeping the yard", and "sich." At 7
+she was put in the fields. The first day at work she was given certain
+rows to hoe but she could not keep in the row. The Master came around
+twice a day to look at what they had done and when it was not done
+right, he whipped them. "Seems like I got whipped all day long," she
+said. One time when Mollie was about 13 years old, she was real sick,
+the master and missus took her to the bathing house where there was
+"plenty of hot water." They put her in a tub of hot water then took her
+out, wrapped her in blankets and sheets and put her in cold water. They
+kept her there 4 or 5 days doing that until they broke her fever.
+Whenever the negroes were sick, they always looked after them and had a
+doctor if necessary. At Christmas they had a whole week holiday and
+everything they wanted to eat. The negroes lived a happy carefree life
+unless they "broke the rules." If one lied or stole or did not work or
+did not do his work right or stayed out over the time of their pass,
+they were whipped. The "pass"
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.137134" id="v.043p.137134"></a>[134]</span>
+was given them to go off on Saturday. It
+told whose "nigger" they were and when they were due back, usually by 4
+o'clock Sunday afternoon or Monday morning. "The patta-roll" (patrol)
+came by to see your pass and if you were due back home, they would give
+you a whippin'!"</p>
+
+<p>Mollie was 15 years old when the master came out in the fields and told
+them they were as free as he was. Her family stayed with him. He gave
+them a horse or mule, their groceries and a "patch to work", that they
+paid for in about three years time. Before the war whenever his slaves
+reached 70 years, the master set them free and gave them a mule, cow and
+a "patch". Mollie can remember her grandmother and grandfather getting
+theirs. When Mollie married (17 years old), she moved to her husband's
+farm. She had 9 children. She had to "spin the cloth" for their clothes,
+and did any kind of work, even the men's work too. Out of herbs she made
+syrup for worms for her children. With the barks of different trees she
+made the spring tonic and if their "stomachs was wrong", she used red
+oak bark. When she was younger, she would "dream a dream" and see it
+"jes' as clear" next morning and it always came true, but now since
+she's aged her dreams are "gone away" by next morning. When she was a
+little girl, they made them go to Sunday School and taught them out of a
+"blue back speller". After freedom, they were sent to day school "some".
+The "little missus" used to teach her upstairs after they were supposed
+to be in bed. She's been a member of the Methodist Church
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.138135" id="v.043p.138135"></a>[135]</span>
+since she was
+17 years old. Mollie's husband was always a farmer and he always planted
+by the moon. Potatoes, turnips and things that grow under the ground
+were planted in the dark of the moon while beans and peas and things
+that develope on top the ground were planted in the light of the moon.</p>
+
+<p>She said she couldn't remember many superstitions but she knew a
+rabbit's foot was tied round your neck or waist for luck and a crowing
+hen was bad luck, so bad that they killed them and "put 'em in the pot"
+whenever they found one. When you saw a cat washing its face, it was
+going to rain sure.</p>
+
+<p>Mollie is quite wrinkled, has thinning white hair, very bad teeth but
+fairly active physically and her mind is moderately clear.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.139136" id="v.043p.139136"></a>[136]</span>
+
+<a name="MobleyBob"></a>
+
+<h3>Elizabeth Watson<br />
+<br />
+BOB MOBLEY, Ex-Slave, Aged about 90<br />
+Pulaski County, Georgia<br />
+(1937)<br />
+[Date Stamp: JUL 20 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>When recently interviewed, this aged colored man&mdash;the soul of humbleness
+and politeness&mdash;and long a resident of Pulaski County, sketched his life
+as follows (his language reconstructed):</p>
+
+<p>"I was the seventh child of the eleven children born to Robert and
+Violet Hammock, slaves of Mr. Henry Mobley of Crawford County. My
+parents were also born in Crawford County.</p>
+
+<p>My master was well-to-do: he owned a great deal of land and many
+Negroes.</p>
+
+<p>Macon was our nearest trading town&mdash;and Mr. Mobley sold his cotton and
+did his trading there, though he sent his children to school at
+Knoxville (Crawford County).</p>
+
+<p>My mother was the family cook, and also superintended the cooking for
+many of the slaves.</p>
+
+<p>We slaves had a good time, and none of us were abused or mistreated,
+though young Negroes were sometimes whipped&mdash;when they deserved it.
+Grown Negro men, in those days, wore their hair long and, as a
+punishment to them for misconduct (etc.), the master cut their hair off.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.140137" id="v.043p.140137"></a>[137]</span>
+
+<p>I was raised in my master's house&mdash;slept in his room when I was a small
+boy, just to be handy to wait on him when he needed anything.</p>
+
+<p>If a slave became sick, a doctor was promptly called to attend him. My
+mother was also a kind of doctor and often rode all over the plantation
+to dose ailing Negroes with herb teas and home medicines which she was
+an adept in compounding. In cases of [HW: minor] illness, she could
+straighten up the sick in no time.</p>
+
+<p>Before the war started, I took my young master to get married, and we
+were certainly dressed up. You have never seen a Nigger and a white man
+as dressed up as we were on that occasion.</p>
+
+<p>An aunt of mine was head weaver on our plantation, and she bossed the
+other women weavers and spinners. Two or three seamstresses did all the
+sewing.</p>
+
+<p>In winter time we slaves wore wool, which had been dyed before the cloth
+was cut. In summer we wore light goods.</p>
+
+<p>We raised nearly every thing that we ate, except sugar and coffee, and
+made all the shoes and clothes worn on the place, except the white
+ladies' silks, fine shawls, and slippers, and the men's broadcloths and
+dress boots.</p>
+
+<p>My young master went to the war, but his father was too old to go. When
+we heard that the Yankees were coming, old mister refugeed
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.141138" id="v.043p.141138"></a>[138]</span>
+to Dooly
+County&mdash;where he bought a new farm, and took his Negroes with him. But
+the new place was so poor that, right after the war closed, he moved
+back to his old plantation. I stayed with Mr. Henry for a long time
+after freedom, then came to Hawkinsville to work at the carpenter's
+trade. And I did pretty well here until I fell off a house several years
+ago, since which time I haven't been much good&mdash;not able to do hardly
+any work at all."</p>
+
+
+<p>Now old, feeble, and physically incapacitated, "Uncle" Bob lives with a
+stepdaughter&mdash;a woman of 72&mdash;who, herself, is failing fast. Both are
+supported mainly by Pulaski County and the Federal Government.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.142139" id="v.043p.142139"></a>[139]</span>
+
+<a name="NixFanny"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br />
+Ex-Slave #79]<br />
+<br />
+Folklore<br />
+Mary A. Crawford<br />
+Re-Search Worker<br />
+<br />
+FANNY NIX&mdash;Ex-Slave<br />
+Interviewed<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Fanny was born in slavery and was "a great big girl" when the slaves
+were freed but does not know her exact age, however, she thinks that she
+was "at least twelve when the War broke out." According to this method
+of estimating her age, Fanny is about eighty-seven.</p>
+
+<p>The old woman's parents were John Arnold and Rosetta Green, who were
+married 'away befo de wah' by steppin' over the broom' in the presence
+of "old Marse," and a lot of colored friends.</p>
+
+<p>Fanny does not know where her parents were born, but thinks that they
+were born in Upson County near Thomaston, Georgia, and knows that she
+and her two brothers and other sister were.</p>
+
+<p>Fanny and her family were owned by Judge Jim Green. Judge Green had a
+hundred or so acres of land Fanny 'reckon', and between twenty-five and
+seventy-five slaves.</p>
+
+<p>"The Marster was just as good as he could be to all the slaves, and
+especially to the little chillun." "The Judge did not 'whup' much&mdash;and
+used a peach tree limb and done it hisself.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.143140" id="v.043p.143140"></a>[140]</span>
+There wuzn't no strop at
+Marse Green's big house."</p>
+
+<p>Rosetta Green, the mother of Fanny, "cooked and washed for Judge Green
+for yeahs and yeahs." Fanny "found her mammy a cookin' at the big house
+the fust thing she knowed."</p>
+
+<p>As Fanny grew up, she was trained by "ole Miss" to be a house girl, and
+did "sech wuk" as churning, minding the flies "offen de table when de
+white folks et, gwine backards and forads to de smoke-house for my
+mammy."</p>
+
+<p>She recalls that when she "minded the flies offen the table she allus
+got plenty of biscuits and scraps o' fried chicken the white folks left
+on their plates." "But," Fanny added with a satisfied smile, "Marse
+Green's darkies never wanted for sumpin t'eat, case he give 'em a
+plenty, even molasses all dey wanted." Fanny and her mammy always ate in
+"de Missis kitchen."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Fanny, "I remembers when de Yankees come through, it tickled
+us chillun and skeered us too! Dey wuz mo'n a hundred, Miss, riding
+mighty po' ole wore out hosses. All de men wanted wuz sumpin' t'eat and
+some good hosses. De men poured into de smokehouse and de kitchen (here
+Fanny had to laugh again) an how dem Yankee mens did cut and hack "Ole
+Marse's" best hams! After dey et all dey could hol' dey saddled up "ole
+Marse's" fine hosses an' away dey rid!"</p>
+
+<p>When asked why the white folks did not hide the horses out in the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.144141" id="v.043p.144141"></a>[141]</span>
+swamps
+or woods, Fanny replied, "case, dey didn't have time. Dem Yankees
+pounced down like hawks after chickens!" "Ole Marse jost did have time
+to 'scape to de woods hisself." The Judge was too old to go to the war.</p>
+
+<p>John Arnold, Fanny's daddy, was owned by Mr. John Arnold on an adjoining
+plantation to Judge Greene, and when he and Fanny's mother were married,
+John was allowed to visit Rosetta each week-end. Of course he had to
+carry a pass from his "Marster."</p>
+
+<p>John and Rosetta "never lived together year in and year out," according
+to Fanny's statement, "till long after freedom."</p>
+
+<p>Fanny relates that Judge Green's slaves all went to "meetin" every
+Sunday in the white folks church. The darkies going in the after-noon
+and the white people going in the forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>The white preacher ministered to both the white and colored people.</p>
+
+<p>If the Negroes were sick and needed mo [HW: den] "old Marse" knowed what
+to give em, he "sont the white folk's doctor." "You see, Miss," said old
+Fanny with pride, "I wuz owned by big white folks."</p>
+
+<p>She tells that Judge Green had two young sons (not old enough to fight)
+and three daughters, 'jest little shavers, so high', (here Fanny
+indicated from three, to four or five feet at intervals, to indicate
+small children's height,) then added,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.145142" id="v.043p.145142"></a>[142]</span>
+"We allus said, 'Little Miss
+Peggy', 'Little Miss Nancy', and 'Little Missz Jane', and 'Young Marse
+Jim' and 'Little Marster Bob'". "Did you ever forget to speak to the
+children in that way?" the interviewer asked. "No, Miss, we sho didn't,
+we knowed better dan to fergit!"</p>
+
+
+<p>Fanny is very feeble in every way, voice is weak and her step most
+uncertain, but she is straight of figure, and was ripping up smoking
+tobacco sacks with which her daughter is to make 'a purty bed spread'.
+Fanny and her husband, another ex-slave, live with Fanny's daughter. The
+daughter supports her mother.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.146143" id="v.043p.146143"></a>[143]</span>
+
+<a name="NixHenry"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br />
+Ex-Slave #80]<br />
+<br />
+Mary A. Crawford<br />
+Re-Search Worker<br />
+<br />
+HENRY NIX&mdash;Ex-Slave<br />
+808 E. Slaton Ave.<br />
+Griffin, Georgia<br />
+Interviewed<br />
+<br />
+September 24, 1936<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+
+
+<p>[TR: Numerous handwritten changes were made in this interview. Where a
+word appears in brackets after a HW entry, it was replaced by that
+handwritten entry. All numbers were originally spelled out.]</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>Henry Nix was born March 15, 1848 in Upson County, about 5 miles from
+Barnesville, Georgia.</p>
+
+<p>[HW: His] [Henry's] parents were John Nix and Catherine Willis, who were
+not married, because as Henry reports, John Nix was an overseer on the
+plantation of Mr. Jasper Willis, "and when Marster found out what kind
+of man John Nix was he (Nix) had to skip out."</p>
+
+<p>When Henry "was a good sized boy, his mother married a darky man", and 3
+other children were born, 2 boys and a girl. Henry loved his mother very
+much and [HW: says] relates that on her death bed she told him who his
+father was, and [TR: "also told him" crossed out] how to live so as not
+to get into trouble, and, [HW: due to her advice] that he has never been
+in jail nor in any meanness of any kind [TR: "due to what she told him"
+crossed out].</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jasper Willis, [TR: "who was" crossed out] Henry's owner, lived on a
+large plantation of about 300 three hundred acres in Upson County, [HW:
+and] [Mr. Willis] owned only about 50 or 60 slaves as well as Henry can
+remember. The old man considers Mr. Willis "the best marster that a
+darky ever had," saying that he "sho" made his darkies work and mind,
+but he never beat them or let the patter-role do it, though sometimes he
+did use a switch on 'em". Henry recalls that he received "a sound
+whuppin onct, 'case he throwed a rock at one o' Marse Jasper's fine cows
+and broke her laig!"</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.147144" id="v.043p.147144"></a>[144]</span>
+
+<p>When asked if Mr. Willis had the slaves taught to read and write, Henry
+hooted at the idea, saying emphatically, "No, Mam, 'Ole Marse' wuz sho
+hard about dat. He said 'Niggers' wuz made by de good Lawd to work, and
+onct when my Uncle stole a book and wuz a trying to learn how to read
+and write, Marse Jasper had the white doctor take off my Uncle's fo'
+finger right down to de 'fust jint'. Marstar said he fixed dat darky as
+a sign fo de res uv 'em! No, Miss, we wuzn't larned!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Willis allowed his slaves from Saturday at noon till Monday morning
+as a holiday, and then they always had a week for Christmas. All of the
+Negroes went to meeting on Sunday afternoon in the white people's church
+and were served by the white minister.</p>
+
+<p>Henry says that they had a "circuit doctor" on his Marster's place and
+the doctor came around regularly at least every two weeks, "case Marster
+paid him to do so and [HW: he] 'xamined evah darky big and little on dat
+plantation."</p>
+
+<p>One time Henry recalls that he "had a turrible cowbunkle" on the back of
+his neck and 'marse' had the doctor to cut it open. Henry knowed better
+den to holler and cut up, too, when it was done.</p>
+
+<p>The old man remembers going to war with his young master and remaining
+with him for the two years he was in service. They were in Richmond when
+the city surrendered to Grant and soon after that the young master was
+killed in the fight at Tumlin Gap. Henry hardly knows how he got back to
+"Ole Marster" but is
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.148145" id="v.043p.148145"></a>[145]</span>
+thankful he did.</p>
+
+<p>After freedom, [HW: al]most all of Mr. Willis' darkies stayed on with
+him but Henry "had to act smart and run away." He went over into Alabama
+and managed "to keep [TR: "his" crossed out] body and soul together
+somehow, for several years and then [TR: "he" crossed out] went back to
+"Ole Marster."</p>
+
+<p>Henry is well and rather active for his 87 or 88 years and likes to
+work. He has a job now cleaning off the graves at the white cemetery but
+he and his wife depend mainly [HW: for support] on their son [TR: "for
+support" crossed out], who lives just across the street from them.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.149146" id="v.043p.149146"></a>[146]</span>
+
+<a name="OgletreeLewis"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 6]<br />
+<br />
+Mary A. Crawford<br />
+Re-Search Worker<br />
+<br />
+LEWIS OGLETREE&mdash;Ex-Slave<br />
+501 E. Tinsley Street<br />
+Griffin, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+August 21, 1936<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+
+<p>[TR: Numerous handwritten changes were made in this interview. Where a
+word appears in brackets after a HW entry, it was replaced by that
+handwritten entry.]</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>Lewis Ogletree was born on the plantation of Mr. Fred Crowder of
+Spalding County, Georgia [HW: Ga], near Griffin. [HW: He] [Lewis] does
+not know exactly when he was born, but says that [TR: "he knows that"
+crossed out] he was maybe 17 years old at the end of the war in '65.
+This would make him 88 now.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Crowder was the owner of a large number of slaves and among them
+was Lettie Crowder, [TR: "(married an Ogletree) the" crossed out]
+housekeeper and head servant in the home of Mr. Fred Crowder. Lettie was
+Lewis' mother.</p>
+
+<p>Lewis remembers standing inside the picket fence with a lot of other
+little pick-a-ninnies watching for Sherman's Army, and when the Yankees
+got close enough to be heard plainly, they hid in the bushes or under
+the house.</p>
+
+<p>The Yankees poured into the yard and into the house, making Lettie open
+the smoke-house and get them Mr. Crowder's best whiskey and oftentimes
+they made her cook them a meal of ham and eggs.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Crowder, Lettie's master, was ill during the war, having a cancer on
+his left hand.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.150147" id="v.043p.150147"></a>[147]</span>
+
+<p>Lewis reports that Mr. Crowder was a very hard master but a good one
+saying, "That it wasn't any use for the "patty-role" (the Patrol) to
+come to Marse Crowder's, 'cause he would not permit him to "tech one of
+his darkies."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Crowder, the "ole mistis", had died just before the war broke out
+and Mr. Crowder lived alone with his house servants.</p>
+
+<p>There were two young sons in the war. The oldest son, Col. Crowder, was
+in Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>Lewis said that his Master whipped him only once and that was for
+stealing. One day when the old master was taking a nap, Lewis "minding
+off the flies" and thinking his "marster" asleep slipped over to the big
+table and snatched some candy. Just as he picked up a lump, (it was
+"rock candy,") "Wham! Old [HW: Marster] [mastah] had me, and when he got
+through, well, Lewis, didn't steal anymore candy nor nothin'." "Mastah
+nevah took no foolishness from his darkies."</p>
+
+<p>Lewis remembers very clearly when Mr. Crowder gave his darkies their
+freedom. "Mastah sont me and my mammy out to the cabin to tell all de
+darkies to come up to de "big house". When they got there, there were so
+many that [HW: they] [some] were up on the porch, on the steps and all
+over the yard."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.151148" id="v.043p.151148"></a>[148]</span>
+
+<p>"Mr. Crowder stood up on the porch and said, "You darkies are all free
+now. You don't belong to me no more. Now pack up your things and go on
+off." My Lord! How them darkies did bawl! And most of them did not leave
+ole mastah."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.152149" id="v.043p.152149"></a>[149]</span>
+
+<a name="OrfordRichard"></a>
+
+<h3>[RICHARD ORFORD, Age around 85]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<p>The following version of slavery was told by Mr. Richard Orford of 54
+Brown Avenue in South Atlanta. Mr. Orford is large in statue and
+although 85 years of age he has a very active mind as well as a good
+sense of humor.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orford was born in Pike County, Georgia (near the present site of
+Griffin) in 1842. His master's name was Jeff Orford. Mr. Orford
+describes him as follows: "Marster wus a rich man an' he had 'bout 250
+slaves&mdash;'course dat was'nt so many 'cause some of de folks 'round dere
+had 400 and 500. He had plenty of land too&mdash;I don't know how many acres.
+He raised everything he needed on de plantation an' never had to buy
+nothing. I 'members when de Yankees come through&mdash;ol' marster had 'bout
+200 barrels of whiskey hid in de smokehouse&mdash;dat wus de fust time I ever
+got drunk."</p>
+
+<p>"Besides hisself an' his wife ol' marster had two boys an' nine girls".</p>
+
+<p>Continuing, Mr. Orford said: "My Ma did'nt have many chillun&mdash;jus' ten
+boys an' nine girls. I went to work in marster's house when I wus five
+years old an' I stayed dere 'till I wus thirty-five. De fust work I had
+to do wus to pick up chips, feed chickens, an' keep de yard clean. By de
+time I wus eight years old I wus drivin' my missus in de carriage."</p>
+
+<p>"All de rest of de slaves wus fiel' hands. Dey spent dere time plowing
+an' takin' care of de plantation in general. Dere wus some who split
+rails an' others who took care of de stock an' made de harness&mdash;de
+slaves did everything dat needed to be done on de plantation. Everybody
+had to git up 'fore daybreak an' even 'fore it wus light enuff to see
+dey wus in de fiel' waitin' to see how to run a furrow. 'Long 'bout nine
+o'clock breakfus' wus sent to de
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.153150" id="v.043p.153150"></a>[150]</span>
+fiel' in a wagon an' all of 'em stopped
+to eat. At twelve o'clock dey stopped again to eat dinner. After dat dey
+worked 'till it wus to dark to see. Women in dem days could pick
+five-hundred pounds of cotton a day wid a child in a sack on dere
+backs."</p>
+
+<p>"When de weather wus too bad to work in de fiel' de hands cribed an'
+shucked corn. If dey had any work of dere own to do dey had to do it at
+night".</p>
+
+<p>According to Mr. Orford there was always sufficient food on the Orford
+plantation for the slaves. All cooking was done by one cook at the cook
+house. In front of the cook house were a number of long tables where the
+slaves ate their meals when they came in from the fields. Those children
+who were too young to work in the fields were also fed at this house but
+instead of eating from the tables as did the grown-ups they were fed
+from long troughs much the same as little pigs. Each was given a spoon
+at meal time and then all of the food was dumped into the trough at the
+same time.</p>
+
+<p>The week day diet for the most part consisted of meats and
+vegetables&mdash;"sometimes we even got chicken an' turkey"&mdash;says Mr. Orford.
+Coffee was made by parching meal or corn and then boiling it in water.
+None of the slaves ever had to steal anything to eat on the Orford
+plantation.</p>
+
+<p>All of the clothing worn on this plantation was made there. Some of the
+women who were too old to work in the fields did the spinning and the
+weaving as well as the sewing of the garments. Indigo was used to dye
+the cloth. The women wore callico dresses and the men wore ansenberg
+pants and shirts. The children wore a one piece garment not unlike a
+slightly lengthened dress. This was kept in place by a string tied
+around their waists. There were
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.154151" id="v.043p.154151"></a>[151]</span>
+at least ten shoemakers on the
+plantation and they were always kept bust [TR: busy?] making shoes
+although no slave ever got but one pair of shoes a year. These shoes
+were made of very hard leather and were called brogans.</p>
+
+<p>In the rear of the master's house was located the slave's quarters. Each
+house was made of logs and was of the double type so that two families
+could be accommodated. The holes and chinks in the walls were daubed
+with mud to keep the weather out. At one end of the structure was a
+large fireplace about six feet in width. The chimney was made of dirt.</p>
+
+<p>As for furniture Mr. Orford says: "You could make your own furniture if
+you wanted to but ol' marster would give you a rope bed an' two or three
+chairs an' dat wus all. De mattress wus made out of a big bag or a
+tickin' stuffed wid straw&mdash;dat wus all de furniture in any of de
+houses."</p>
+
+<p>"In dem days folks did'nt git sick much like dey do now, but when dey
+did de fust thing did fer 'em wus to give 'em blue mass. If dey had a
+cold den dey give 'em blue mass pills. When dey wus very sick de marster
+sent fer de doctor."</p>
+
+<p>"Our ol' marster wus'nt like some of de other marsters in de
+community&mdash;he never did do much whuppin of his slaves. One time I hit a
+white man an' ol' marster said he was goin' to cut my arm off an' dat
+wus de las' I heard of it. Some of de other slaves useter git whuppins
+fer not workin' an' fer fightin'. My mother got a whuppin once fer not
+workin'. When dey got so bad ol' marster did'nt bother 'bout whuppin'
+'em&mdash;he jes' put 'em on de block an' en' sold 'em like he would a
+chicken or somethin'. Slaves also got whuppins when dey wus caught off
+the plantation wid out a pass&mdash;de Paddie-Rollers whupped you den. I have
+knowed slaves to run
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.155152" id="v.043p.155152"></a>[152]</span>
+away an' hide in de woods&mdash;some of 'em even raised
+families dere."</p>
+
+<p>"None of us wus allowed to learn to read or to write but we could go to
+church along wid de white folks. When de preacher talked to de slaves he
+tol' 'em not to steal fum de marster an' de missus 'cause dey would be
+stealing fum dere selves&mdash;he tol' 'em to ask fer what dey wanted an' it
+would be givven to 'em."</p>
+
+<p>When Sherman marched through Georgia a number of the slaves on the
+Orford plantation joined his army. However, a large number remained on
+the plantation even after freedom was declared. Mr. Orford was one of
+those who remained. While the Yankee soldiers were in the vicinity of
+the Orford plantation Mr. Orford, the owner of the plantation, hid in
+the woods and had some of the slaves bring his food, etc. to him.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orford was thirty-five years of age when he left the plantation and
+at that time he married a twelve year old girl. Since that time he has
+been the father of twenty-three children, some of whom are dead and some
+of whom are still alive.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.156153" id="v.043p.156153"></a>[153]</span>
+
+<a name="ParkesAnna"></a>
+<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br />
+<br />
+ANNA PARKES, Age 86<br />
+150 Strong Street<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+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 &amp; 7<br />
+Augusta, Georgia</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.157154" id="v.043p.157154"></a>[154]</span>
+
+
+<p>Anna Parkes' bright eyes sparkled as she watched the crowd that thronged
+the hallway outside the office where she awaited admittance. A trip to
+the downtown section is a rare event in the life of an 86 year old
+Negress, and, accompanied by her daughter, she was making the most of
+this opportunity to see the world that lay so far from the door of the
+little cottage where she lives on Strong Street. When asked if she liked
+to talk of her childhood days before the end of the Civil War, she
+eagerly replied: "'Deed, I does." She was evidently delighted to have
+found someone who actually wanted to listen to her, and proudly
+continued:</p>
+
+<p>"Dem days sho' wuz sompin' to talk 'bout. I don't never git tired of
+talkin' 'bout 'em. Paw, he wuz Olmstead Lumpkin, and Ma wuz Liza
+Lumpkin, and us b'longed to Jedge Joe Henry Lumpkin. Us lived at de
+Lumpkin home place on Prince Avenue. I wuz born de same week as Miss
+Callie Cobb, and whilst I don't know z'ackly what day I wuz born, I kin
+be purty sho' 'bout how many years ole I is by axin' how ole Miss Callie
+is. Fust I 'members much 'bout is totin' de key basket 'round 'hind Ole
+Miss when she give out de vittals. I never done a Gawd's speck of work
+but dat. I jes' follered 'long atter Ole Miss wid 'er key basket.</p>
+
+<p>"Did dey pay us any money? Lawsy, Lady! What for? Us didn't need no
+money. Ole Marster and Ole Miss all time give us plenty good sompin'
+teat, and clo'es, and dey let us sleep in a good cabin, but us did have
+money now and den. A heap of times us
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.158155" id="v.043p.158155"></a>[155]</span>
+had nickles and dimes. Dey had
+lots of comp'ny at Ole Marster's, and us allus act mighty spry waitin'
+on 'em, so dey would 'member us when dey lef'. Effen it wuz money dey
+gimme, I jes' couldn't wait to run to de sto' and spend it for candy."</p>
+
+<p>"What else did you buy with the money?", she was asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Nuffin' else," was the quick reply. "All a piece of money meant to me
+dem days, wuz candy, and den mo' candy. I never did git much candy as I
+wanted when I wuz chillun."</p>
+
+<p>Here her story took a rambling turn.</p>
+
+<p>"You see I didn't have to save up for nuffin'. Ole Marster and Ole Miss,
+dey took keer of us. Dey sho' wuz good white folkses, but den dey had to
+be good white folkses, kaze Ole Marster, he wuz Jedge Lumpkin, and de
+Jedge wuz bound to make evvybody do right, and he gwine do right his own
+self 'fore he try to make udder folkses behave deyselvs. Ain't nobody,
+nowhar, as good to dey Negroes as my white folkses wuz."</p>
+
+<p>"Who taught you to say 'Negroes' so distinctly?" she was asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Ole Marster," she promptly answered, "He 'splained dat us wuz not to be
+'shamed of our race. He said us warn't no 'niggers'; he said us wuz
+'Negroes', and he 'spected his Negroes to be de best Negroes in de whole
+land.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marster had a big fine gyarden. His Negroes wukked it good, and us
+wuz sho' proud of it. Us lived close in town, and all de Negroes on de
+place wuz yard and house servants. Us didn't have no gyardens 'round our
+cabins, kaze all of us et at de big house kitchen. Ole Miss had flowers
+evvywhar 'round de big house,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.159156" id="v.043p.159156"></a>[156]</span>
+and she wuz all time givin' us some to
+plant 'round de cabins.</p>
+
+<p>"All de cookin' wuz done at de big house kitchen, and hit wuz a sho'
+'nough big kitchen. Us had two boss cooks, and lots of helpers, and us
+sho' had plenny of good sompin' teat. Dat's de Gawd's trufe, and I means
+it. Heap of folkses been tryin' to git me to say us didn't have 'nough
+teat and dat us never had nuffin' fittin' teat. But ole as I is, I cyan'
+start tellin' no lies now. I gotter die fo' long, and I sho' wants to be
+clean in de mouf and no stains or lies on my lips when I dies. Our
+sompin' teat wuz a heap better'n what us got now. Us had plenny of
+evvything right dar in de yard. Chickens, ducks, geese, guineas,
+tukkeys, and de smoke'ouse full of good meat. Den de mens, dey wuz all
+time goin' huntin', and fetchin' in wild tukkeys, an poddiges, and heaps
+and lots of 'possums and rabbits. Us had many fishes as us wanted. De
+big fine shads, and perch, and trouts; dem wuz de fishes de Jedge liked
+mos'. Catfishes won't counted fittin' to set on de Jedges table, but us
+Negroes wuz 'lowed to eat all of 'em us wanted. Catfishes mus' be mighty
+skace now kaze I don't know when ever I is seed a good ole river catfish
+a-flappin' his tail. Dey flaps dey tails atter you done kilt 'em, and
+cleaned 'em, and drap 'em in de hot grease to fry. Sometimes dey nigh
+knock de lid offen de fryin' pan.</p>
+
+<p>"Ole Marster buyed Bill Finch down de country somewhar', and dey called
+him 'William' at de big house. He wuz de tailor, and he made clo'es for
+de young marsters. William wuz right smart, and one of his jobs wuz to
+lock up all de vittals atter us done et much as us wanted. All of us had
+plenny, but dey won't nuffin' wasted 'round Ole Marster's place.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.160157" id="v.043p.160157"></a>[157]</span>
+
+<p>"Ole Miss wuz young and pretty dem days, and Ole Marster won't no old
+man den, but us had to call 'em 'Ole Miss,' and 'Ole Marster,' kaze dey
+chilluns wuz called 'Young Marster' and 'Young Mistess' f'um de very day
+dey wuz born."</p>
+
+<p>When asked to describe the work assigned to little Negroes, she quickly
+answered: "Chilluns didn't do nuffin'. Grownup Negroes done all de wuk.
+All chilluns done wuz to frolic and play. I wuz jes' 'lowed ter tote de
+key basket kaze I wuz all time hangin' 'round de big house, and wanted
+so bad to stay close to my ma in de kitchen and to be nigh Ole Miss.</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of clo'es did I wear in dem days? Why Lady, I had good
+clo'es. Atter my little mistesses wore dey clo'es a little, Ole Miss
+give 'em to me. Ma allus made me wear clean, fresh clo'es, and go
+dressed up good all de time so I'd be fittin' to carry de key basket for
+Ole Miss. Some of de udder slave chilluns had homemade shoes, but I
+allus had good sto'-bought shoes what my young mistess done outgrowed,
+or what some of de comp'ny gimme. Comp'ny what had chilluns 'bout my
+size, gimme heaps of clo'es and shoes, and some times dey didn't look
+like dey'd been wore none hardly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ole Marster sho' had lots of Negroes 'round his place. Deir wuz Aunt
+Charlotte, and Aunt Julie, and de two cooks, and Adeline, and Mary, and
+Edie, and Jimmy. De mens wuz Charlie, and Floyd, and William, and
+Daniel. I disremembers de res' of 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"Ole Marster never whipped none of his Negroes, not dat I ever heared
+of. He tole 'em what he wanted done, and give 'em plenny of time to do
+it. Dey wuz allus skeert effen
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.161158" id="v.043p.161158"></a>[158]</span>
+dey didn't be smart and do right, dey
+might git sold to some marster dat would beat 'em, and be mean to 'em.
+Us knowed dey won't many marsters as good to dey slaves as Ole Marster
+wuz to us. Us would of most kilt ourself wukkin', fo' us would of give
+him a reason to wanna git rid of us. No Ma'am, Ole Marster ain't never
+sold no slave, not whilst I kin 'member. Us wuz allus skeert dat effen a
+Negro git lazy and triflin' he might git sold.</p>
+
+<p>"No Negro never runned away f'um our place. Us didn't have nuffin' to
+run f'um, and nowhar to run to. Us heared of patterollers but us won't
+'fraid none kaze us knowed won't no patteroller gwine tech none of Jedge
+Lumpkin's Negroes.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had our own Negro church. I b'lieves dey calls it Foundry Street
+whar de ole church wuz. Us had meetin' evvy Sunday. Sometimes white
+preachers, and sometimes Negro preachers done de preachin'. Us didn't
+have no orgin or pianny in church den. De preacher hysted de hymns. No
+Ma'am, I cyan' 'member no songs us sung den dat wuz no diffunt f'um de
+songs now-a-days, 'ceppen' dey got orgin music wid de singin' now. Us
+had c'lections evvy Sunday in church den, same as now. Ole Marster give
+us a little change for c'lection on Sunday mawnin' kaze us didn't have
+no money of our own, and he knowed how big it made us feel ter drap
+money in de c'lection plate. Us Meferdis had our baptizin's right dar in
+de church, same as us does now. And 'vival meetin's. Dey jes' broke out
+any time. Out on de plantations dey jes' had 'vival meetin's in
+layin'-by times, but here in town us had 'em all durin' de year. Ole
+Marster used ter say: 'Mo' 'vivals, better Negroes.'</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.162159" id="v.043p.162159"></a>[159]</span>
+
+<p>"Evvybody oughter be good and jine de church, but dey sho' oughtn't to
+jine effen dey still gwine to act like Satan.</p>
+
+<p>"Us chillun would git up long 'fore day Chris'mas mawnin'. Us used ter
+hang our stockin's over de fire place, but when Chris'mas mawnin' come
+dey wuz so full, hit would of busted 'em to hang 'em up on a nail, so
+dey wuz allus layin' on Ma's cheer when us waked up. Us chillun won't
+'lowed to go 'round de big house early on Chris'mas mawnin' kaze us
+mought 'sturb our white folkses' rest, and den dey done already seed dat
+us got plenny Santa Claus in our own cabins. Us didn't know nuffin'
+'bout New Years Day when I wuz chillun.</p>
+
+<p>"When any of his Negroes died Ole Marster wuz mighty extra good. He give
+plenny of time for a fun'ral sermon in de afternoon. Most of da fun'rals
+wuz in de yard under de trees by de cabins. Atter de sermon, us would go
+'crost de hill to de Negro buyin' ground, not far f'um whar our white
+folkses wuz buried.</p>
+
+<p>"Us never bothered none 'bout Booker Washin'ton, or Mister Lincum, or
+none of dem folkses 'way off dar kaze us had our raisin' f'um de
+Lumpkins and dey's de bes' folkses dey is anywhar'. Won't no Mister
+Lincum or no Booker Washin'ton gwine to help us like Ole Marster and us
+knowed dat good and plenny.</p>
+
+<p>"I cyan' 'member much 'bout playin' no special games 'ceppin' 'Ole
+Hundud.' Us would choose one, and dat one would hide his face agin' a
+tree whilst he counted to a hundud. Den he would hunt for all de others.
+Dey done been hidin' whilst he wuz countin'. Us larned to count
+a-playin' 'Ole Hundud'.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.163160" id="v.043p.163160"></a>[160]</span>
+
+<p>"No Ma'am, us never went to no school 'til atter de War. Den I went some
+at night. I wukked in de day time atter freedom come. My eyes bothered
+me so I didn't go to school much.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes Ma'am, dey took mighty good care of us effen us got sick. Ole
+Marster would call in Doctor Moore or Doctor Carleton and have us looked
+atter. De 'omans had extra good care when dey chilluns comed. 'Til
+freedom come, I wuz too little to know much 'bout dat myself, but Ma
+allus said dat Negro 'omans and babies wuz looked atter better 'fore
+freedom come dan dey ever wuz anymo'.</p>
+
+<p>"Atter de War wuz over, a big passel of Yankee mens come to our big
+house and stayed. Dey et and slept dar, and dey b'haved powerful nice
+and perlite to all our white folkses, and dey ain't bother Jedge
+Lumpkin's servants none. But den evvybody allus b'haved 'round Jedge
+Lumpkin's place. Ain't nobody gwine to be brash 'nough to do no
+devilment 'round a Jedges place.</p>
+
+<p>"Hit was long atter de War 'fo' I married. I cyan' 'member nuffin' 'bout
+my weddin' dress. 'Pears like to me I been married mos' all of my life.
+Us jes' went to de preacher man's house and got married. Us had eight
+chillun, but dey is all dead now 'ceppin' two; one son wukkin' way off
+f'um here, and my daughter in Athens.</p>
+
+<p>"I knows I wuz fixed a heap better fo' de War, than I is now, but I sho'
+don't want no slav'ry to come back. It would be fine effen evvy Negro
+had a marster like Jedge Lumpkin, but dey won't all dat sort."</p>
+
+<p>Anna leaned heavily on her cane as she answered the knock on the front
+door when we visited her home. "Come in," she invited, and led the way
+through her scrupulously tidy house to the back porch.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.164161" id="v.043p.164161"></a>[161]</span>
+
+<p>"De sun feels good," she said, "and it sorter helps my rheumatiz. My
+rheumatiz been awful bad lately. I loves to set here whar I kin see dat
+my ole hen and little chickens don't git in no mischief." A small bucket
+containing chicken food was conveniently at hand, so she could scatter
+it on the ground to call her chickens away from depredations on the
+flowers. A little mouse made frequent excursions into the bucket and
+helped himself to the cracked grains in the chicken food. "Don't mind
+him," she admonished, "he jes' plays 'round my cheer all day, and don't
+bother nuffin'."</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't tell anything about your brothers and sisters when you
+talked to me before," her visitor remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I jes' couldn't 'member all at onct, but atter I got back home
+and rested up, I sot here and talked ter myself 'bout old times. My
+brudder Charles wuz de coachman what drove Ole Marster's carriage, and
+anudder brudder wuz Willie, and one wuz Floyd. My sisters wuz Jane and
+Harriet. 'Pears like to me dey wuz more of 'em, but some how I jes'
+cyan' 'member no more 'bout 'em. My husband wuz Grant Parkes and he tuk
+care of de gyardens and yards for de Lumpkins.</p>
+
+<p>"I had one chile named Caline, for Ole Miss. She died a baby. My
+daughter Fannie done died long time ago, and my daughter Liza, she wuks
+for a granddaughter of Ole Miss. I means, Liza wuks for Mister Eddie
+Lumpkin's daughter. I done plum clear forgot who Mister Eddie's daughter
+married.</p>
+
+<p>"I jes' cyan' recollec' whar my boy, Floyd, stays. You oughter know,
+Lady, hits de town whar de President lives. Yes
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.165162" id="v.043p.165162"></a>[162]</span>
+Ma'am, Washin'ton, dats
+de place whar my Floyd is. I got one more son, but I done plum forgot
+his name, and whar he wuz las' time I heared f'um him. I don't know if
+he's livin' or dead. It sho' is bad to git so old you cyan' tell de
+names of yo' chilluns straight off widout havin' to stop and study, and
+den you cyan' allus 'member.</p>
+
+<p>"I done been studyin' 'bout da war times, and I 'members dat Ole Marster
+wuz mighty troubled 'bout his Negroes when he heared a big crowd of
+Yankee sojers wuz comin' to Athens. Folkses done been sayin' de Yankees
+would pick out de bes' Negroes and take 'em 'way wid 'em, and dere wuz a
+heap of talk 'bout de scandlous way dem Yankee sojers been treatin'
+Negro 'omans and gals. 'Fore dey got here, Ole Marster sent mos' of his
+bes' Negroes to Augusta to git 'em out of danger f'um de Fed'rals.
+Howsome-ever de Negroes dat he kept wid' 'im won't bothered none, kaze
+dem Fed'rals 'spected de Jedge and didn't do no harm 'round his place.</p>
+
+<p>"In Augusta, I stayed on Greene Street wid a white lady named Mrs.
+Broome. No Ma'am, I nebber done no wuk. I jes' played and frolicked, and
+had a good time wid Mrs. Broome's babies. She sho' wuz good to me. Ma,
+she wukked for a Negro 'oman named Mrs. Kemp, and lived in de house wid
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Ole Marster sont for us atter de war wuz over, and us wuz mighty proud
+to git back home. Times had done changed when us got back. Mos' of Ole
+Marster's money wuz gone, and he couldn't take keer of so many Negroes,
+so Ma moved over near de gun fact'ry and started takin' in washin'.</p>
+
+<p>"De wust bother Negroes had dem days wuz findin' a place to live. Houses
+had to be built for 'em, and dey won't no money to build 'em wid.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.166163" id="v.043p.166163"></a>[163]</span>
+
+<p>"One night, jes' atter I got in bed, some mens come walkin' right in
+Ma's house widout knockin'. I jerked de kivver up over my head quick,
+and tried to hide. One of de mens axed Ma who she wuz. Ma knowed his
+voice, so she said: 'You knows me Mister Blank,' (she called him by his
+sho' 'nuff name) 'I'm Liza Lumpkin, and you knows I used to b'long to
+Jedge Lumpkin.' De udders jes' laughed at him and said: 'Boy, she knows
+you, so you better not say nuffin' else.' Den anudder man axed Ma how
+she wuz makin' a livin'. Ma knowed his voice too, and she called him by
+name and tole him us wuz takin' in washin' and livin' all right. Dey
+laughed at him too, and den anudder one axed her sompin' and she called
+his name when she answered him too. Den de leader say, 'Boys, us better
+git out of here. These here hoods and robes ain't doin' a bit of good
+here. She knows ev'ry one of us and can tell our names.' Den dey went
+out laughin' fit to kill, and dat wuz de onliest time de Ku Kluxers ever
+wuz at our house, leastways us s'posed dey wuz Ku Kluxers.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't 'member much 'bout no wuk atter freedom 'ceppin' de wash tub.
+Maw larned me how to wash and iron. She said: 'Some day I'll be gone
+f'um dis world, and you won't know nuffin' 'bout takin' keer of yo'self,
+lessen you larn right now.' I wuz mighty proud when I could do up a
+weeks washin' and take it back to my white folkses and git sho' 'nuff
+money for my wuk. I felt like I wuz a grown 'oman den. It wuz in dis
+same yard dat Ma larned me to wash. At fust Ma rented dis place. There
+wuz another house here den. Us saved our washin' money and bought de
+place, and dis is de last of three houses on dis spot. Evvy cent spent
+on dis place wuz made by takin' in washin' and de most of it wuz made
+washin' for Mister Eddie Lumpkin's family.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.167164" id="v.043p.167164"></a>[164]</span>
+
+<p>"Heaps of udder Negroes wuz smart like Ma, and dey got along all right.
+Dese days de young folkses don't try so hard. Things comes lots easier
+for 'em, and dey got lots better chances dan us had, but dey don't pay
+no 'tention to nuffin' but spendin' all dey got, evvy day. Boys is
+wuss'en gals. Long time ago I done give all I got to my daughter. She
+takes keer of me. Effen de roof leaks, she has it looked atter. She wuks
+and meks our livin'. I didn't want nobody to show up here atter I die
+and take nuffin' away f'um her.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain' never had no hard times. I allus been treated good and had a
+good livin'. Course de rheumatiz done got me right bad, but I is still
+able to git about and tend to de house while my gal is off at wuk. I
+wanted to wash today, but I couldn't find no soap. My gal done hid de
+soap, kaze she say I'se too old to do my own washin' and she wanter wash
+my clo'es herse'f."</p>
+
+<p>In parting, the old woman said rather apologetically, "I couldn't tell
+you 'bout no sho' 'nuff hard times. Atter de War I wukked hard, but I
+ain't never had no hard times".</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.168165" id="v.043p.168165"></a>[165]</span>
+
+<a name="PattillioGW"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br />
+Ex-Slave #83]<br />
+<br />
+"A TALK WITH<br />
+G.W. PATTILLO&mdash;EX-SLAVE"<br />
+[HW: age 78]<br />
+<br />
+Submitted by<br />
+Minnie B. Ross<br />
+<br />
+Typed by:<br />
+J.C. Russell<br />
+1-22-37<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+
+<p>[TR: In Informants List, G.W. Pattillio]</p>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.169166" id="v.043p.169166"></a>[166]</span>
+
+<p>In the shelter provided by the Department of Public Welfare, lives an
+old Negro, G.W. Pattillo, who was born in Spaulding County, Griffin,
+Ga., in the year 1852. His parents, Harriett and Jake Pattillo, had
+twelve children, of whom he was the second youngest. Their master was
+Mr. T.J. Ingram. However, they kept the name of their old master, Mr.
+Pattillo.</p>
+
+<p>Master Ingram, as he was affectionately called by his slaves, was
+considered a "middle class man," who owned 100 acres of land, with one
+family of slaves, and was more of a truck farmer than a plantation
+owner. He raised enough cotton to supply the needs of his family and his
+slaves and enough cattle to furnish food, but his main crops were corn,
+wheat, potatoes and truck.</p>
+
+<p>With a few slaves and a small farm, Master Ingram was very lenient and
+kind to his slaves and usually worked with them in the fields. "We had
+no special time to begin or end the work for the day. If he got tired he
+would say, 'Alright, boys, let's stop and rest,' and sometimes we didn't
+start working until late in the day."</p>
+
+<p>Pattillo's mother was cook and general house servant, so well thought of
+by the Ingram family that she managed the house as she saw fit and
+planned the meals likewise. Young Pattillo was considered a pet by
+everyone and hung around the mistress, since she did not have any
+children of her own. His job was to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.170167" id="v.043p.170167"></a>[167]</span>
+hand her the scissors and thread her
+needles. "I was her special pet," said Pattillo, "and my youngest
+brother was the master's special pet." Mr. and Mrs. Ingram never
+punished the children, nor allowed anyone but their parents to do so.
+If the boy became unruly, Mrs. Ingram would call his mother and say,
+"Harriett, I think G.W. needs to be taken down a button hole lower."</p>
+
+<p>The master's house, called the "Big House," was a two-story frame
+structure consisting of 10 rooms. Although not a mansion, it was fairly
+comfortable. The home provided for Pattillo's family was a three-room
+frame house furnished comfortably with good home-made furniture.</p>
+
+<p>Pattillo declared that he had never seen anyone on the Ingram Plantation
+punished by the owner, who never allowed the "paterrollers" to punish
+them either.</p>
+
+<p>Master Ingram placed signs at different points on his plantation which
+read thus: "Paterrollers, Fishing and Hunting Prohibited on this
+Plantation." It soon became known by all that the Ingram slaves were not
+given passes by their owner to go any place, consequently they were
+known as "Old Ingram's Free Niggers."</p>
+
+<p>Master Ingram could not write, but would tell his slaves to inform
+anyone who wished to know, that they belonged to J.D. Ingram. "Once,"
+said Pattillo, "my brother Willis, who was known for his gambling and
+drinking, left our plantation and no one knew where he had gone. As we
+sat around a big open fire cracking walnuts, Willis came up, jumped
+off his horse and fell to the ground. Directly behind him rode a
+'paterroller.' The master jumped up and commanded him to turn around and
+leave his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.171168" id="v.043p.171168"></a>[168]</span>
+premises. The 'Paterroller' ignored his warning and advanced
+still further. The master then took his rifle and shot him. He fell to
+the ground dead and Master Ingram said to his wife, 'Well, Lucy, I guess
+the next time I speak to that scoundrel he will take heed.' The master
+then saddled his horse and rode into town. Very soon a wagon came back
+and moved the body."</p>
+
+<p>The cotton raised was woven into cloth from which their clothing was
+made. "We had plenty of good clothing and food," Pattillo continued.
+"The smokehouse was never locked and we had free access to the whole
+house. We never knew the meaning of a key."</p>
+
+<p>Master Ingram was very strict about religion and attending Church. It
+was customary for everyone to attend the 9 o'clock prayer services at
+his home every night. The Bible was read by the mistress, after which
+the master would conduct prayer. Children as well as grownups were
+expected to attend. On Sundays, everybody attended church. Separate
+Churches were provided for the Negroes, with White and Colored preachers
+conducting the services. White Deacons were also the Deacons of the
+Colored Churches and a colored man was never appointed deacon of a
+Church. Only white ministers were priviliged to give the sacrament and
+do the baptizing. Their sermons were of a strictly religious nature.
+When a preacher was unable to read, someone was appointed to read the
+text. The preacher would then build his sermon from it. Of course,
+during the conference period, colored as well as white ministers were
+privileged to make the appointments. The Negroes never took up
+collections but placed their money in an envelope and passed it in. It
+was their own money,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.172169" id="v.043p.172169"></a>[169]</span>
+earned with the master's consent, by selling
+apples, eggs, chickens, etc.</p>
+
+<p>Concerning marriages, Pattillo believes in marriages as they were in the
+olden days. "Ef two people felt they wuz made for each other, they wuz
+united within themselves when they done git the master's 'greement, then
+live together as man and wife, an' that was all. Now, you got to buy a
+license and pay the preacher."</p>
+
+<p>Loss of life among slaves was a calamity and if a doctor earned a
+reputation for losing his patients, he might as well seek a new
+community. Often his downfall would begin by some such comment as, "Dr.
+Brown lost old man Ingram's nigger John. He's no good and I don't intend
+to use him." The value of slaves varied, from $500 to $10,000, depending
+on his or her special qualifications. Tradesmen such as blacksmiths,
+shoe makers, carpenters, etc., were seldom sold under $10,000. Rather
+than sell a tradesman slave, owners kept them in order to make money by
+hiring them out to other owners for a set sum per season. However,
+before the deal was closed the lessee would have to sign a contract
+which assured the slave's owner that the slave would receive the best of
+treatment while in possession.</p>
+
+<p>Pattillo remembers hearing his parents say the North and South had
+disagreed and Abraham Lincoln was going to free the slaves. Although he
+never saw a battle fought, there were days when he sat and watched the
+long line of soldiers passing, miles and miles of them. Master Ingram
+did not enlist but remained
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.173170" id="v.043p.173170"></a>[170]</span>
+at home to take care of his family and his
+possessions.</p>
+
+<p>After the war ended, Master Ingram called his slaves together and told
+them of their freedom, saying, "Mr. Lincoln whipped the South and we are
+going back to the Union. You are as free as I am and if you wish to
+remain here you may. If not, you may go any place you wish. I am not
+rich but we can work together here for both our families, sharing
+everything we raise equally." Pattillo's family remained there until
+1870. Some owners kept their slaves in ignorance of their freedom.
+Others were kind enough to offer them homes and help them to get a
+start.</p>
+
+<p>After emancipation, politics began to play a part in the lives of
+ex-slaves, and many were approached by candidates who wanted to buy
+their votes. Pattillo tells of an old ex-slave owner named Greeley
+living in Upson County who bought an ex-slaves vote by giving him as
+payment a ham, a sack of flour and a place to stay on his plantation.
+After election, he ordered the ex-slave to get the wagon, load it with
+his possessions and move away from his plantation. Astonished, the old
+Negro asked why. "Because," replied old Greeley, "If you allow anyone to
+buy your vote and rob you of your rights as a free citizen, someone
+could hire you to set my house on fire."</p>
+
+<p>Pattillo remebers slavery gratefully and says he almost wishes these
+days were back again.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.174171" id="v.043p.174171"></a>[171]</span>
+
+<a name="PopeAlec"></a>
+
+<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br />
+<br />
+ALEC POPE, Age 84<br />
+1345 Rockspring Street<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Sadie B. Hornsby<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Athens, Ga.<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, Ga.<br />
+<br />
+April 28, 1938<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 6 1938]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.175172" id="v.043p.175172"></a>[172]</span>
+
+<p>Alec lives with his daughter, Ann Whitworth. When asked if he liked to
+talk about his childhood days, he answered: "Yes Ma'am, but is you one
+of dem pension ladies?" The negative reply was an evident disappointment
+to Alec, but it did not hinder his narrative:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wuz born on de line of Clarke and Oglethorpe Counties, way down
+de country. Celia and Willis Pope wuz my ma and pa. Lawdy! Mist'ess, I
+don't know whar dey come f'um; 'peers lak pa's fust Marster wuz named
+Pope. Dat's de onlies' last name I ever ricollec' us havin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere wuz a passel of us chillun. My sisters wuz Sallie, Phebie Ann,
+Nelia, and Millie. My brudders wuz Anderson, Osborn, George, Robert,
+Squire, Jack, and Willis. Willis wuz named for pa and us nicknamed 'im
+Tuck.</p>
+
+<p>"De slave quarters wuz little log houses scattered here and dar. Some of
+'em had two rooms on de fust flo' and a loft up 'bove whar de boys most
+genially slep' and de gals slep' downstairs. I don't 'member nothin'
+t'all 'bout what us done 'cept scrap lak chilluns will do.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I ain't forgot 'bout dem beds. Dey used cords for springs, and de
+cords run f'um head to foot; den dey wove 'em 'cross de bed 'til dey
+looked lak checks. Wheat straw wuz sewed up
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.176173" id="v.043p.176173"></a>[173]</span>
+in ticks for mattresses.
+When you rolled 'round on one of dem straw mattresses, de straw crackled
+and sounded lak rain. No Ma'am, I don't know nothin' t'all 'bout my
+gran'pa and gran'ma.</p>
+
+<p>"I wuz de reg'lar water boy, and I plowed some too. 'Course dere wuz so
+many on dat plantation it tuk more'n one boy to tote de water. Money?
+dis Nigger couldn't git no money in dem days.</p>
+
+<p>"Us sho' had plenty somepin' t'eat, sich as meat, and cornbread, and
+good old wheat bread what wuz made out of seconds. Dere wuz lots of
+peas, corn, cabbage, Irish 'tatoes, sweet 'tatoes, and chickens,
+sometimes. Yes Ma'am, sometimes. I laks coffee, but us Niggers didn't
+have much coffee. Dat wuz for de white folkses at de big house. Cookin'
+wuz done in de fireplace in great big spiders. Some of de biggest of de
+spiders wuz called ovens. Dey put coals of fire underneath and more
+coals on top of de lid. Ma baked bread and 'taters in de ashes. In
+winter she put de dough in a collard leaf so it wouldn't burn. In summer
+green corn shucks wuz wrapped 'round de dough 'stid of collard leaves.
+All de fish and 'possums and rabbits us had wuz cotch right dar on Old
+Marster's place, 'cause if one of our Niggers got cotch offen our place
+hit wuz jes' too bad. I sho' does love 'possum, and us had lots of 'em,
+'cause my brudder used to ketch 'em by de wholesale wid a dog he had,
+and dat same dog wuz a powerful good rabbit hound too.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had pretty good clothes most all de year 'round. In summer, shirts,
+and pants wuz made out of coarse cotton cloth. Sometimes de pants wuz
+dyed gray. Winter time us had better clothes made out of yarn and us
+allus had good Sunday clothes. 'Course I wuz jes' a plow boy den and
+now I done forgot lots 'bout how things looked. Our shoes wuz jes'
+common brogans, no diff'unt on Sunday,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.177174" id="v.043p.177174"></a>[174]</span>
+'ceppin' de Nigger boys what wuz
+shinin' up to de gals cleaned up deir shoes dat day.</p>
+
+<p>"Our Marster wuz Mr. Mordecai Ed'ards. Well, he wuz pretty good&mdash;not too
+good. He tried to make you do right, but if you didn't he would give you
+a good brushin'. Miss Martha, Old Marster's old 'oman, warn't good as
+Old Marster, but she done all right. Dey had a heap of chillun: Miss
+Susan, Miss Mary, Miss Callie, Miss Alice, and it 'peers to me lak dere
+wuz two mo' gals, but I can't 'call 'em now. Den dere wuz some boys:
+Marse Billy, Marse Jim, Marse John, Marse Frank, and Marse Howard. Marse
+Frank Ed'ards lives on Milledge Avenue now.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marster and Old Mist'ess lived in a great big fine house what
+looked to me lak one of dese big hotels does now. Marse Jack Ed'ards wuz
+de fust overseer I can ricollec'. He wuz kin to Old Marster. Marster had
+two or three mo' overseers at diff'unt times, but I don't ricollec' dey
+names. Dere wuz two car'iage drivers. Henry driv de gals 'round and
+Albert wuz Old Mist'ess' driver. Old Marster had his own hoss and buggy,
+and most of de time he driv for hisself, but he allus tuk a little
+Nigger boy namad Jordan 'long to help him drive and to hold de hoss.</p>
+
+<p>"Lawdy! Mist'ess, I couldn't rightly say how many acres wuz in dat
+plantation. I knowed he had two plantations wid fine houses on 'em. He
+jes' had droves and droves of Niggers and when dey got scattered out
+over de fields, dey looked lak blackbirds dere wuz so many. You see I
+wuz jes' a plow boy and didn't know nothin' 'bout figgers and countin'.</p>
+
+<p>"De overseer got us up 'bout four o'clock in de
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.178175" id="v.043p.178175"></a>[175]</span>
+mornin' to feed de
+stock. Den us et. Us allus stopped off by dark. Mist'ess dere's a old
+sayin' dat you had to brush a Nigger in dem days to make 'em do right.
+Dey brushed us if us lagged in de field or cut up de cotton. Dey could
+allus find some fault wid us. Marster brushed us some time, but de
+overseer most gen'ally done it. I 'members dey used to make de 'omans
+pull up deir skirts and brushed 'em wid a horse whup or a hickory; dey
+done de mens de same way 'cept dey had to take off deir shirts and pull
+deir pants down. Niggers sho' would holler when dey got brushed.</p>
+
+<p>"Jails! Yes Ma'am, dey had 'em way down in Lexin'ton. You know some
+Niggers gwine steal anyhow, and dey put 'em in dere for dat mostly. I
+didn't never see nobody sold or in chains. De only chains I ever seed
+wuz on hosses and plows.</p>
+
+<p>"Mist'ess, Niggers didn't have no time to larn to read in no Bible or
+nothin' lak dat in slav'ry time. Us went to church wid de white folkses
+if us wanted to, but us warn't 'bleeged to go. De white folkses went to
+church at Cherokee Corner. Dere warn't no special church for Niggers
+'til long atter de War when dey built one out nigh de big road.</p>
+
+<p>"Some of de Niggers run away to de Nawth&mdash;some dey got back, some dey
+didn't. Dem patterollers had lots of fun if dey cotch a Nigger, so dey
+could brush 'im to hear 'im holler. De onlies' trouble I ever heard
+'bout twixt de whites and blacks wuz when a Nigger sassed a white man
+and de white man shot 'im. H'it served dat Nigger right, 'cause he
+oughta knowed better dan to sass a white man. De trouble ended wid dat
+shot.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.179176" id="v.043p.179176"></a>[176]</span>
+
+<p>"De most Niggers ever done for a good time wuz to have little parties
+wid heaps of fidlin' and dancin'. On Sunday nights dey would have prayer
+meetin's. Dem patterollers would come and break our prayer meetin's up
+and brush us if dey cotch us.</p>
+
+<p>"Chris'mas wuz somepin' else. Us had awful good times den, 'cause de
+white folkses at de big house give us plenty of goodies for Chris'mas
+week and us had fidlin' and dancin'. Us would ring up de gals and run
+all 'round 'em playin' dem ring-'round-de-rosie games. Us had more good
+times at corn shuckin's, and Old Marster allus had a little toddy to
+give us den to make us wuk faster.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! No Ma'am, I don't 'member nothin' 'bout what us played when I wuz a
+little chap, and if I ever knowed anything 'bout Rawhead and Bloody
+Bones and sich lak I done plumb forgot it now. But I do know Old Marster
+and Old Mist'ess sho' wuz powerful good when dey Niggers got sick. Dey
+put a messenger boy on a mule and sont 'im for Dr. Hudson quick, 'cause
+to lose a Nigger wuz losin' a good piece of property. Some Niggers wore
+some sort of beads 'round deir necks to keep sickness away and dat's all
+I calls to mind 'bout dat charm business.</p>
+
+<p>"I wuz jes' a plow boy so I didn't take in 'bout de surrender. De only
+thing I ricollects 'bout it wuz when Old Marster told my pa and ma us
+wuz free and didn't belong to him no more. He said he couldn't brush de
+grown folks no more, but if dey wanted to stay wid 'im dey could, and
+dat he would brush dey chilluns if dey didn't do right. Ma told 'im he
+warn't gwine brush none of her chilluns no more.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.180177" id="v.043p.180177"></a>[177]</span>
+
+<p>"Us lived wid Old Marster 'bout a year, den pa moved up on de big road.
+Buy land? No Ma'am, Niggers didn't have no money to buy no land wid 'til
+dey made it. I didn't take in 'bout Mr. Lincoln, only dat thoo' him us
+wuz sot free. I heard 'em say Mr. Davis wuz de President of de South,
+and 'bout Booker Washin'ton some of de Niggers tuk him in, but I didn't
+bodder 'bout him.</p>
+
+<p>"Lawdy! Mist'ess, I didn't marry de fust time 'til long atter de War,
+and now I done been married three times. I had a awful big weddin' de
+fust time. De white man what lived on de big road not far f'um us said
+he never seed sich a weddin' in his life. Us drunk and et, and danced
+and cut de buck most all night long. Most all my chilluns is dead. I
+b'lieve my fust wife had 10 or 11 chilluns. I know I had a passel fust
+and last; and jes' to tell you de trufe, dere jes' ain't no need to stop
+and try to count de grand chilluns. All three of my wives done daid and
+I'm lookin' for anudder one to take keer of me now.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did I jine de church? 'Cause I jes' think evvybody oughta jine if
+dey wanna do right so'se dey can go to Heben. I feels lak a diff'unt man
+since I done jined and I knows de Lord has done forgive me for all my
+sins.</p>
+
+<p>"Mist'ess ain't you thoo' axin' me questions yit? Anyhow I wuz thinkin'
+you wuz one of dem pension ladies." When he was told that the interview
+was completed, Alec said: "I sho' is glad, 'cause I feels lak takin' a
+little nap atter I eat dese pecans what I got in my pocket. Goodbye
+Mist'ess."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.181178" id="v.043p.181178"></a>[178]</span>
+
+<a name="PriceAnnie"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br />
+Ex-Slave #84]<br />
+<br />
+Whitley, Driskell<br />
+1-20-37<br />
+<br />
+SLAVERY AS WITNESSED BY ANNIE PRICE<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<p>Mrs. Annie Price was born in Spaulding County, Georgia October 12, 1855.
+Although only a mere child when freedom was declared she is able to
+relate quite a few events in her own life as well as some of the
+experiences of other slaves who lived in the same vicinity as she.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother and father Abe and Caroline were owned by a young married
+couple named Kennon. (When this couple were married Abe and Caroline had
+been given as wedding presents by the bride's and the groom's parents).
+Besides her parents there four brothers and five sisters all of whom
+were younger than she with one exception. The first thing that she
+remembers of her mother is that of seeing her working in the "Marster's"
+kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kennon was described as being a rather young man who was just
+getting a start in life. His family consisted of his wife and about
+five children. He was not a mean individual. The plantation on which he
+lived was a small one, having been given to him by his father (whose
+plantation adjoined) in order to give him a start. Mr. Kennon owned one
+other slave besides Mrs. Price and her family while his father owned a
+large number some of whom he used to lend to the younger Mr. Kennon.
+Cotton and all kinds of vegetables were raised. There was also some live
+stock.</p>
+
+<p>As Mr. Kennon owned only a few slaves it was necessary for these few
+persons to do all of the work. Says Mrs. Price: "My mother had to do
+everything from cultivating cotton to cooking." The same was true of her
+father and the other servant. Before the break of day each morning they
+were all called to prepare for the day's work. Mrs. Price then told how
+she has seen the men of her plantation and those of the adjoining one
+going
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.182179" id="v.043p.182179"></a>[179]</span>
+to the fields at this unearthly hour eating their breakfast while
+sitting astride the back of a mule. After her mother had finished
+cooking and cleaning the house she was sent to the field to help the
+men. When it was too dark to see all field hands were permitted to
+return to their cabins. This same routine was followed each day except
+Sundays when they were permitted to do much as they pleased. When the
+weather was too bad for field work they shelled corn and did other types
+of work not requiring too much exposure. Holidays were unheard of on the
+Kennon plantation. As a little slave girl the only work that Mrs. Price
+ever had to do was to pick up chips and bark for her mother to cook
+with. The rest of the time was spent in playing with the "Marster's"
+little girls.</p>
+
+<p>"The servants on our plantation always had a plenty of clothes,"
+continued Mrs. Price, "while those on the plantation next to ours (Mrs.
+Kennon's father) never had enough, especially in the winter." This
+clothing was given when it was needed and not at any specified time as
+was the case on some of the other plantations in that community. All of
+these articles were made on the plantation and the materials that were
+mostly used were homespun (which was also woven on the premises) woolen
+goods, cotton goods and calico. It has been mentioned before that the
+retinue of servants was small in number and so for this reason all of
+them had a reasonable amount of those clothes that had been discarded by
+the master and the mistress. After the leather had been cured it was
+taken to the Tannery where crude shoes called "Twenty Grands" were made.
+These shoes often caused the wearer no little amount of discomfort until
+they were thoroughly broken in.</p>
+
+<p>For bedding, homespun sheets were used. The quilts and blankets were
+made from pieced cotton material along with garments that were unfit for
+further wear. Whenever it was necessary to dye any of these articles a
+type of dye made by boiling the bark from trees was used.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.183180" id="v.043p.183180"></a>[180]</span>
+
+<p>In the same manner that clothing was plentiful so was there always
+enough food. When Mrs. Price was asked if the slaves owned by Mr. Kennon
+were permitted to cultivate a garden of their own she stated that they
+did'nt need to do this because of the fact that Mr. Kennon raised
+everything that was necessary and they often had more than enough. Their
+week-day diet usually consisted of fried meat, grits, syrup and corn
+bread for breakfast; vegetables, pot liquor or milk, and corn bread for
+dinner; and for supper there was milk and bread or fried meat and bread.
+On Sunday they were given a kind of flour commonly known as the
+"seconds" from which biscuits were made. "Sometimes", continued Mrs.
+Price, "my mother brought us the left-overs from the master's table and
+this was usually a meal by itself". In addition to this Mr. Kennon
+allowed hunting as well as fishing and so on many days there were fish
+and roast 'possum. Food on the elder Mr. Kennon plantation was just as
+scarce as it was plentiful on his son's. When asked how she knew about
+this Mrs. Price told how she had seen her father take meat from his
+master's smoke house and hide it so that he could give it to those
+slaves who invaribly slipped over at night in search of food. The elder
+Mr. Kennon had enough food but he was too mean to see his slaves enjoy
+themselves by having full stomachs.</p>
+
+<p>All cooking on Mrs. Price's plantation was done by her mother.</p>
+
+<p>All of the houses on the Kennon plantation were made of logs including
+that of Mr. Kennon himself. There were only two visible differences in
+the dwelling places of the slaves and that of Mr. Kennon and there were
+(1) several rooms instead of the one room allowed the slaves and (2)
+weatherboard was used on the inside to keep the weather out while the
+slaves used mud to serve for this purpose. In these crude one-roomed
+houses (called stalls) there was a bed made of some rough wood. Rope
+tied from
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.184181" id="v.043p.184181"></a>[181]</span>
+side to side served as the springs for the mattress which was
+a bag filled with straw and leaves. There were also one or two boxes
+which were used as chairs. The chimney was made of rocks and mud. All
+cooking was done here at the fireplace. Mrs. Price says; "Even Old
+Marster did'nt have a stove to cook on so you know we did'nt." The only
+available light was that furnished by the fire. Only one family was
+allowed to a cabin so as to prevent overcrowding. In addition to a good
+shingle roof each one of these dwellings had a board floor. All floors
+were of dirt on the plantation belonging to the elder Mr. Kennon.</p>
+
+<p>A doctor was employed to attend to those persons who were sick. However
+he never got chance to practice on the Kennon premises as there was
+never any serious illness. Minor cases of sickness were usually treated
+by giving the patient a dose of castor oil or several doses of some form
+of home made medicine which the slaves made themselves from roots that
+they gathered in the woods. In order to help keep his slaves in good
+health Mr. Kennon required them to keep the cabins they occupied and
+their surroundings clean at all times.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Price said that the slaves had very few amusements and as far as
+she can remember she never saw her parents indulge in any form of play
+at all. She remembers, however, that on the adjoining plantation the
+slaves often had frolics where they sang and danced far into the night.
+These frolics were not held very often but were usually few and far
+between.</p>
+
+<p>As there was no church on the plantation Mr. Kennon gave them a pass on
+Sundays so that they could attend one of the churches that the town
+afforded. The sermons they heard were preached by a white preacher and
+on rare occasions by a colored preacher. Whenever the colored pastor
+preached there were several white persons present to see that [HW: no]
+doctrine save that laid down by them should be preached. All of the
+marrying on both plantations
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.185182" id="v.043p.185182"></a>[182]</span>
+[TR: duplicate section removed here] was
+done by a preacher.</p>
+
+<p>It has been said that a little learning is a dangerous thing and this
+certainly was true as far as the slaves were concerned, according to
+Mrs. Price. She says: "If any of us were ever caught with a book we
+would get a good whipping." Because of their great fear of such a
+whipping none of them ever attempted to learn to read or to write.</p>
+
+<p>As a general rule Mrs. Price and the other nembers of her family were
+always treated kindly by the Kennon family. None of them were ever
+whipped or mistreated in any way. Mrs. Price says that she has seen
+slaves on the adjoining plantation whipped until the blood ran. She
+describes the sight in the following manner. "The one to be whipped was
+tied across a log or to a tree and then his shirt was dropped around his
+waist and he was lashed with a cow hide whip until his back was raw."
+Whippings like these were given when a slave was unruly or disobedient
+or when he ran away. Before a runaway slave could be whipped he had to
+be caught and the chief way of doing this was to put the blood hounds
+(known to the slaves as "nigger hounds") on the fugitive's trail. Mrs.
+Price once saw a man being taken to his master after he had been caught
+by the dogs. She says that his skin was cut and torn in any number of
+places and he looked like one big mass of blood. Her father once ran
+away to escape a whipping.(this was during the Civil War), and he was
+able to elude the dogs as well as his human pursuers. When asked about
+the final outcome of this escape Mrs. Price replied that her father
+remained in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.186183" id="v.043p.186183"></a>[183]</span>
+hiding until the war was over with and then he was able to
+show himself without any fear.</p>
+
+<p>She has also seen slaves being whipped by a group of white men when her
+parents said were the "Paddie-Rollers". It was their duty to whip those
+slaves who were caught away from their respective plantations without a
+"pass", she was told.</p>
+
+<p>According to Mrs. Price the jails were built for the "white folks". When
+a slave did something wrong his master punished him.</p>
+
+<p>She does'nt remember anything about the beginning of the Civil War
+neither did she understand its significance until Mr. Kennon died as a
+result of the wounds that he received while in action. This impressed
+itself on her mind indelibly because Mr. Kennon was the first dead
+person she had ever seen. The Yankee troops did'nt come near their
+plantation and so they had a plenty of food to satisfy their needs all
+during the war. Even after the war was over there was still a plenty of
+all the necessities of life.</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Kennon informed them that they were free to go or to stay as
+they pleased, her father, who had just come out of hiding, told Mrs.
+Kennon that he did not want to remain on the plantation any longer than
+it was necessary to get his family together. He said that he wanted to
+get out to himself so that he could see how it felt to be free. Mrs.
+Price says that as young as she was she felt very happy because the
+yoke of bondage was gone and she knew that she could have a privelege
+like everybody else. And so she and her family moved away and her
+father began farming for himself. His was prosperous until his death.
+After she left the plantation of her birth she lived with her father
+until she became a grown woman and then she married a Mr. Price who was
+also a farmer.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.187184" id="v.043p.187184"></a>[184]</span>
+
+<p>Mrs. Price believes that she has lived to reach such a ripe old age
+because she has always served God and because she always tried to obey
+those older than she.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.188185" id="v.043p.188185"></a>[185]</span>
+
+<a name="PyeCharlie"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br />
+Ex-Slave #87]<br />
+<br />
+A FEW FACTS OF SLAVERY BY<br />
+CHARLIE PYE&mdash;Ex-Slave<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY -- --]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>The writer was much surprised to learn that the person whom she was
+about to interview was nine years old when the Civil War ended. His
+youthful appearance at first made her realize that probably he was not
+an ex-slave after all. Very soon she learned differently. Another
+surprise followed the first in that his memory of events during that
+period was very hazy. The few facts learned are related as follows:</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Charlie Pye was born in Columbus, Ga., 1856 and was the ninth child
+of his parents, Tom Pye and Emmaline Highland. Tom Pye, the father,
+belonged to Volantine Pye, owner of a plantation in Columbus, Ga. known
+as the Lynch and Pye Plantation.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Pye's mistress was Miss Mary Ealey, who later married a Mr. Watts.
+Miss Ealey owned a large number of slaves, although she did not own a
+very large plantation. Quite a few of her slaves were hired out to other
+owners. The workers on the plantation were divided into two or more
+groups, each group having a different job to do. For instance, there
+were the plow hands, hoe hands, log cutters, etc. Mr. Pye's mother was a
+plow hand and besides this, she often had to cut logs. Mr. Pye was too
+young to work and spent most of his time playing around the yards.</p>
+
+<p>Houses on the Ealey plantation were built of pine poles after which the
+cracks were filled with red mud. Most of these houses consisted of one
+room; however, a few were built with two rooms to accommodate the larger
+families. The beds, called "bunks" by Mr. Pye were nailed to the sides
+of the room. Roped bottoms covered with a mattress of burlap and hay
+served to complete this structure called a bed. Benches and a home made
+table completed the furnishings. There were very few if any real chairs
+found in the slave homes. The houses and furniture were built by skilled
+Negro carpenters who were hired by the mistress from other slave owners.
+A kind slave owner would allow
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.189186" id="v.043p.189186"></a>[186]</span>
+a skilled person to hire his own time and
+keep most of the pay which he earned.</p>
+
+<p>Plenty of food was raised on the Ealey plantation, but the slave
+families were restricted to the same diet of corn meal, syrup, and fat
+bacon. Children were fed "pot likker", milk and bread from poplar
+troughs, from which they ate with wooden spoons. Grown-ups ate with
+wooden forks. Slaves were not allowed to raise gardens of their own,
+although Mr. Pye's uncle was given the privilege of owning a rice patch,
+which he worked at night.</p>
+
+<p>In every slave home was found a wooden loom which was operated by hands
+and feet, and from which the cloth for their clothing was made. When the
+work in the fields was finished women were required to come home and
+spin one cut (thread) at night. Those who were not successful in
+completing this work were punished the next morning. Men wore cotton
+shirts and pants which were dyed different colors with red oak bark,
+alum and copper. Copper produced an "Indigo blue color." "I have often
+watched dye in the process of being made," remarked Mr. Pye. Mr. Pye's
+father was a shoemaker and made all shoes needed on the plantation. The
+hair was removed from the hides by a process known as tanning. Red oak
+bark was often used for it produced an acid which proved very effective
+in tanning hides. Slaves were given shoes every three months.</p>
+
+<p>To see that everyone continued working an overseer rode over the
+plantation keeping check on the workers. If any person was caught
+resting he was given a sound whipping. Mr. Pye related the following
+incident which happened on the Ealey plantation. "A young colored girl
+stopped to rest for a few minutes and my uncle stopped also and spoke to
+her. During this conversation the overseer came up and began whipping
+the girl with a "sapling tree." My uncle became very angry and picked up
+an axe and hit the overseer in the head, killing him. The mistress was
+very fond of my uncle and kept him hid until she could "run him."
+Running a slave was the method they used in sending a slave to another
+state in order that he could escape punishment and be sold again. You
+were only given this privilege if it so happened that you were cared for
+by your mistress and master."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.190187" id="v.043p.190187"></a>[187]</span>
+
+<p>Overseers on the Ealey plantation were very cruel and whipped slaves
+unmercifully. Another incident related by Mr. Pye was as follows:</p>
+
+<p>"My mother resented being whipped and would run away to the woods and
+often remained as long as twelve months at a time. When the strain of
+staying away from her family became too great, she would return home. No
+sooner would she arrive than the old overseer would tie her to a peach
+tree and whip her again. The whipping was done by a "Nigger Driver," who
+followed the overseer around with a bull whip; especially for this
+purpose. The largest man on the plantation was chosen to be the "Nigger
+Driver."</p>
+
+<p>"Every slave had to attend church, although there were no separate
+churches provided for them. However, they were allowed to occupy the
+benches which were placed in the rear of the church. To attend church on
+another plantation, slaves had to get a pass or suffer punishment from
+the "Pader Rollers." (Patrollers)</p>
+
+<p>"We didn't marry on our plantation", remarked Mr. Pye. After getting the
+consent of both masters the couple jumped the broom, and that ended the
+so called ceremony. Following the marriage there was no frolic or
+celebration.</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes quilting parties were held in the various cabins on the
+plantation. Everyone would assist in making the winter bed covering for
+one family one night and the next night for some other family, and so on
+until everyone had sufficient bed covering.</p>
+
+<p>"A doctor was only called when a person had almost reached the last
+stages of illness. Illness was often an excuse to remain away from the
+field. "Blue mass pills", castor oil, etc. were kept for minor aches and
+pains. When a slave died he was buried as quickly as a box could be
+nailed together.</p>
+
+<p>"I often heard of people refugeeing during the Civil War period,"
+remarked Mr. Pye. "In fact, our mistress refugeed to Alabama trying to
+avoid meeting the Yanks, but they came in another direction. On one
+occasion the Yanks came to our plantation, took all the best mules and
+horses, after which they came to my mother's cabin and made her cook
+eggs for them. They kept so much noise singing,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.191188" id="v.043p.191188"></a>[188]</span>
+"I wish I was in Dixie"
+that I could not sleep. After freedom we were kept in ignorance for
+quite a while but when we learned the truth my mother was glad to move
+away with us."</p>
+
+<p>"Immediately after the war ex-slave families worked for one-third and
+one-fourth of the crops raised on different plantations. Years later
+families were given one-half of the crops raised."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Pye ended the interview by telling the writer that he married at
+the age of 35 years and was the father of two children, one of whom is
+living. He is a Baptist, belonging to Mount Zion Church, and has
+attended church regularly and believes that by leading a clean, useful
+life he has lengthened his days on this earth. During his lifetime Mr.
+Pye followed railroad work. Recently, however, he has had to give this
+up because of his health.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.192189" id="v.043p.192189"></a>[189]</span>
+
+<a name="RainesCharlotte"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 1<br />
+Ex-Slave #91]<br />
+<br />
+SUBJECT: CHARLOTTE RAINES&mdash;OGLETHORPE CO.<br />
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1<br />
+RESEARCH WORKER: JOHN N. BOOTH<br />
+DATE: JANUARY 18, 1937<br />
+[Date Stamp: JAN 26 1937]<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.193190" id="v.043p.193190"></a>[190]</span>
+
+
+<p>Aunt Charlotte Raines, well up in the seventies at the time of her death
+some years ago, was an excellent example of the type of negro developed
+by the economic system of the old South.</p>
+
+<p>When I could first remember, Charlotte was supreme ruler of the kitchen
+of my home. Thin to emaciation and stooped almost to the point of having
+a hump on her back she was yet wiry and active. Her gnarled old hands
+could turn out prodigous amounts of work when she chose to extend
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>Her voice was low and musical and she seldom raised it above the
+ordinary tone of conversation; yet when she spoke other colored people
+hastened to obey her and even the whites took careful note of what she
+said. Her head was always bound in a snow-white turban. She wore calico
+or gingham print dresses and white aprons and these garments always
+appeared to be freshly laundered.</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte seldom spoke unless spoken to and she would never tell very
+much about her early life. She had been trained as personal maid to one
+of her ex-master's daughters. This family, (that of Swepson H. Cox) was
+one of the most cultured and refined that Lexington, in Oglethorpe
+County, could boast.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Charlotte never spoke of her life under the old regime but she had
+supreme contempt for "no count niggers that didn't hav' no white Folks".
+She was thrifty and frugal. Having a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.194191" id="v.043p.194191"></a>[191]</span>
+large family, most of her small
+earnings was spent on them. However, she early taught her children to
+scratch for themselves. Two of her daughters died after they had each
+brought several children into the world. Charlotte thought they were
+being neglected by their fathers and proceeded to take them "to raise
+myse'f". These grand children were the apple of her eye and she did much
+more for them than she had done for her own children.</p>
+
+<p>The old woman had many queer ways. Typical of her eccentricities was her
+iron clad refusal to touch one bite of food in our house. If she wished
+a dish she was preparing tasted to see that it contained the proper
+amount of each ingredient she would call some member of the family,
+usually my grandmother, and ask that he or she sample the food.
+Paradoxically, she had no compunctions about the amount of food she
+carried home for herself and her family.</p>
+
+<p>Strange as it may seem, Charlotte was an incorrigible rogue. My mother
+and my grandmother both say that they have seen her pull up her skirts
+and drop things into a flour sack which she always wore tied round her
+waist just for this purpose. I myself have seen this sack so full that
+it would bump against her knee. She did not confine her thefts to food
+only. She would also take personal belongings. Another servant in the
+household once found one of Aunt Charlotte's granddaughters using a
+compact that she had stolen from her young mistress. The servant took
+the trinket away from the girl and returned it to the owner but nothing
+was ever said to Aunt Charlotte although every one knew she had stolen
+it.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.195192" id="v.043p.195192"></a>[192]</span>
+
+<p>One year when the cherry crop was exceptionally heavy, grandmother had
+Charlotte make up a huge batch of cherry preserves in an iron pot. While
+Charlotte was out of the kitchen for a moment she went in to have a look
+at the preserves and found that about half of them had been taken out. A
+careful but hurried search located the missing portion hidden in another
+container behind the stove. Grandmother never said a word but simply put
+the amount that had been taken out back in the pot.</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte never permitted anyone to take liberties with her except Uncle
+Daniel, the "man of all work" and another ex-slave. Daniel would josh
+her about some "beau" or about her over-fondness for her grandchildren.
+She would take just so much of this and then with a quiet "g'long with
+you", she would send him on about his business. Once when he pressed her
+a bit too far she hurled a butcher knife at him.</p>
+
+<p>Charlotte was not a superstitious soul. She did not even believe that
+the near-by screech of an owl was an omen of death. However, she did
+have some fearful and wonderful folk remedies.</p>
+
+<p>When you got a bee sting Charlotte made Daniel spit tobacco juice on it.
+She always gave a piece of fat meat to babies because this would make
+them healthy all their lives. Her favorite remedy was to put a pan of
+cold water under the bed to stop "night sweats."</p>
+
+<p>In her last years failing eye-sight and general ill health forced her to
+give up her active life. Almost a complete shut-in, she had a window cut
+on the north side of her room so she could
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.196193" id="v.043p.196193"></a>[193]</span>
+"set and see whut went on up
+at Mis' Molly's" (her name for my grandmother).</p>
+
+<p>She was the perfect hostess and whenever any member of our family went
+to see how she did during those latter days she always served locust
+beer and cookies. Once when I took her a bunch of violets she gave me an
+old coin that she had carried on her person for years. Mother didn't
+want me to take it because Charlotte's husband had given it to her and
+she set great store by it. However, the old woman insisted that I be
+allowed to keep the token arguing it would not be of use to her much
+longer anyway.</p>
+
+<p>She died about a month later and in accordance with her instructions her
+funeral was conducted like "white folk's buryin'", that is without the
+night being filled with wailing and minus the usual harangue at the
+church. Even in death Charlotte still thought silence golden.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.197194" id="v.043p.197194"></a>[194]</span>
+
+<a name="RandolphFanny"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 1<br />
+Ex-Slave #90]<br />
+<br />
+SUBJECT: FANNY RANDOLPH&mdash;EX-SLAVE<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jefferson, Georgia<br />
+RESEARCH WORKER: MRS. MATTIE B. ROBERTS<br />
+EDITOR: JOHN N. BOOTH<br />
+SUPERVISOR: MISS VELMA BELL<br />
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1<br />
+DATE: MARCH 29, 1937<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.198195" id="v.043p.198195"></a>[195]</span>
+
+
+<p>Perhaps the oldest ex-slave living today is found in Jefferson, Georgia.
+Fanny Randolph is a little old wrinkled-faced woman, but at the time of
+our visit she was very neat in a calico dress and a white apron with a
+bandanna handkerchief around her head.</p>
+
+<p>We saw her at the home of a niece with whom she lives, all of her own
+family being dead. Her room was tidy, and she had a bright log fire
+burning in the wide old fire place. She readily consented to talk about
+slavery times.</p>
+
+<p>"Honey, I doan know how ole I is, but I'se been here er long time and
+I'se been told by folks whut knows, dat I'se, maybe, mo' dan er hunderd
+years ole. I 'members back er long time befo' de war. My mammy and daddy
+wuz bofe slaves. My daddy's name wuz Daniel White an' my mammy's name
+befo' she married wuz Sarah Moon, she b'longed ter Marse Bob Moon who
+lived in Jackson County over near whar Winder is now. He wuz er big
+landowner an' had lots uv slaves."</p>
+
+<p>"When I wuz 'bout nine years ole, Marse Bob tuk me up ter de "big house"
+ter wait on ole Mistis. I didn't hav' much ter do, jes' had ter he'p 'er
+dress an' tie 'er shoes an' run eroun' doin' errands fur 'er. Yer know,
+in dem times, de white ladies had niggers ter wait on 'em an' de big
+niggers done all de hard wuk 'bout de house an' yard."</p>
+
+<p>"Atter some years my mammy an' daddy bofe died, so I jes' stayed at de
+"big house" an' wukked on fer Marse Bob an' ole Mistis."</p>
+
+<p>"Atter I growed up, us niggers on Marse Bob's plantation
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.199196" id="v.043p.199196"></a>[196]</span>
+had big times
+at our corn shuckin's an' dances. Us 'ud all git tergether at one uv de
+cabins an us 'ud have er big log fire an' er room ter dance in. Den when
+us had all shucked corn er good while ever nigger would git his gal an'
+dey would be some niggers over in de corner ter play fer de dance, one
+wid er fiddle an' one ter beat straws, an' one wid er banjo, an' one ter
+beat bones, an' when de music 'ud start up (dey gener'ly played 'Billy
+in de Low Grounds' or 'Turkey in de Straw') us 'ud git on de flo'. Den
+de nigger whut called de set would say: 'All join hands an' circle to de
+lef, back to de right, swing corners, swing partners, all run away!' An'
+de way dem niggers feets would fly!"</p>
+
+<p>"Bye an' bye de war come on, an' all de men folks had ter go an' fight
+de Yankees, so us wimmen folks an' chillun had er hard time den caze us
+all had ter look atter de stock an' wuk in de fiel's. Den us 'ud hear
+all 'bout how de Yankees wuz goin' aroun' an' skeerin' de wimmen folks
+mos' ter death goin' in dey houses an' making de folks cook 'em stuff
+ter eat, den tearin' up an' messin' up dey houses an' den marchin' on
+off."</p>
+
+<p>"Den when ole Mistis 'ud hear de Yankees wuz comin' she'd call us
+niggers en us 'ud take all de china, silver, and de joolry whut b'longed
+ter ole Miss an' her family an' dig deep holes out b'hind de smoke-house
+or under de big house, en bury h'it all 'tell de Yankees 'ud git by."</p>
+
+<p>"Dem wuz dark days, but atter er long time de war wuz over an' dey tole
+us us wuz free, I didn't want ter leave my white folks so I stayed on
+fer sometime, but atter while de nigger come erlong
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.200197" id="v.043p.200197"></a>[197]</span>
+whut I married. His
+name wuz Tom Randolph an' befo' de war he b'longed ter Marse Joshua
+Randolph, who lived at Jefferson, so den us moved ter Jefferson. Us had
+thirteen chillun, but dey's all daid now an' my ole man is daid too, so
+I'se here all by my se'f an' ef h'it warn't fer my two nieces here, who
+lets me liv' wid 'em I doan know whut I'd do."</p>
+
+<p>"I'se allus tried ter do de right thin' an' de good Lawd is takin' keer
+uv me fer his prophet say in de Good Book, 'I'se been young and now am
+ole, yet I'se nebber seed de righteous fersaken ner his seed beggin'
+bread!' So I ain't worryin' 'bout sumpin' ter eat, but I doan want ter
+stay here much longer onless h'its de good Lawds will."</p>
+
+<p>Asked if she was superstitious, she said: "Well when I wuz young, I
+reckin' I wuz, but now my pore ole mine is jes so tired and h'it doan
+wuk lak h'it uster, so I never does think much 'bout superstition, but I
+doan lak ter heer er "squinch owl" holler in de night, fer h'it sho is a
+sign some uv yore folks is goin' ter die, en doan brin' er ax froo de
+house onless yer take h'it back de same way yer brung h'it in, fer dat
+'ill kill de bad luck."</p>
+
+<p>When asked if she believed in ghosts or could "see sights" she said:
+"Well, Miss, yer know if yer is borned wid er veil over yer face yer can
+see sights but I has never seed any ghosts er sight's, I warn't born dat
+way, but my niece, here has seed ghostes, en she can tell yer 'bout
+dat."</p>
+
+<p>When we were ready to leave we said, "Well, Aunt Fanny, we hope you live
+for many more years." She replied: "I'se willin' ter
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.201198" id="v.043p.201198"></a>[198]</span>
+go on livin' ez
+long ez de Marster wants me ter, still I'se ready when de summons comes.
+De good Lawd has allus giv' me grace ter liv' by, an' I know He'll giv'
+me dyin' grace when my time comes."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.202199" id="v.043p.202199"></a>[199]</span>
+
+<a name="RichardsShade"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br />
+Ex-slave #94]<br />
+<br />
+Alberta Minor<br />
+Re-search Worker<br />
+<br />
+SHADE RICHARDS, Ex-slave<br />
+East Solomon Street<br />
+Griffin, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+September 14, 1936<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.203200" id="v.043p.203200"></a>[200]</span>
+
+
+<p>Shade Richards was born January 13, 1846 on the Jimpson Neals plantation
+below Zebulon in Pike County. His father, Alfred Richards had been
+brought from Africa and was owned by Mr. Williams on an adjoining
+plantation. His mother, Easter Richards was born in Houston County but
+sold to Mr. Neal. Shade being born on the plantation was Mr. Neal's
+property. He was the youngest of 11 children. His real name was
+"Shadrack" and the brother just older than he was named "Meshack".
+Sometimes the mothers named the babies but most of the time the masters
+did. Mr. Neal did Shade's "namin'".</p>
+
+<p>Shade's father came two or three times a month to see his family on Mr.
+Neal's plantation always getting a "pass" from his master for "niggers"
+didn't dare go off their own plantation without a "pass". Before the war
+Shade's grandfather came from Africa to buy his son and take him home,
+but was taken sick and both father and son died. Shade's earliest
+recollections of his mother are that she worked in the fields until "she
+was thru' bornin' chillun" then she was put in charge of the milk and
+butter. There
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.204201" id="v.043p.204201"></a>[201]</span>
+were 75 or 80 cows to be milked twice a day and she had to
+have 5 or 6 other women helpers.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Neal had several plantations in different localities and his family
+did not live on this one in Pike County but he made regular visits to
+each one. It had no name, was just called "Neal's Place." It consisted
+of thirteen hundred acres. There were always two or three hundred slaves
+on the place, besides the ones he just bought and sold for "tradin'". He
+didn't like "little nigger men" and when he happened to find one among
+his slaves he would turn the dogs on him and let them run him down. The
+boys were not allowed to work in the fields until they were 12 years
+old, but they had to wait on the hands, such as carrying water, running
+back to the shop with tools and for tools, driving wagons of corn, wheat
+etc. to the mill to be ground and any errands they were considered big
+enough to do. Shade worked in the fields when he became 12 years old.</p>
+
+<p>This plantation was large and raised everything&mdash;corn, wheat, cotton,
+"taters", tobacco, fruit, vegetables, rice, sugar cane, horses, mules,
+goats, sheep, and hogs. They kept all that was needed to feed the slaves
+then sent the surplus to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.205202" id="v.043p.205202"></a>[202]</span>
+Savannah by the "Curz". The stage took
+passengers, but the "Curz" was 40 or 50 wagons that took the farm
+surplus to Savannah, and "fetched back things for de house."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Neal kept 35 or 40 hounds that had to be cooked for. He was "rich
+with plenty of money" always good to his slaves and didn't whip them
+much, but his son, "Mr. Jimmy, sure was a bad one". Sometimes he'd use
+the cow hide until it made blisters, then hit them with the flat of the
+hand saw until they broke and next dip the victim into a tub of salty
+water. It often killed the "nigger" but "Mr. Jimmy" didn't care. He
+whipped Shade's uncle to death.</p>
+
+<p>When the "hog killin' time come" it took 150 nigger men a week to do it.
+The sides, shoulders, head and jowls were kept to feed the slaves on and
+the rest was shipped to Savannah. Mr. Neal was good to his slaves and
+gave them every Saturday to "play" and go to the "wrestling school". At
+Xmas they had such a good time, would go from house to house, the boys
+would fiddle and they'd have a drink of liquor at each house. The liquor
+was plentiful for they bought it in barrels. The plantations took turn
+about having "Frolics" when they "fiddled and danced" all night.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.206203" id="v.043p.206203"></a>[203]</span>
+
+<p>If it wasn't on your own plantation you sure had to have a "pass". When
+a slave wanted to "jine the church" the preacher asked his master if he
+was a "good nigger", if the master "spoke up for you", you were "taken
+in," but if he didn't you weren't. The churches had a pool for the
+Baptist Preachers to baptize in and the Methodist Preacher sprinkled.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Neal "traded" with Dr. by the year and whenever the slaves were hurt
+or sick he had to come "tend" to them. He gave the families their food
+by the month, but if it gave out all they had to do was to ask for more
+and he always gave it to them. They had just as good meals during the
+week as on Sunday, any kind of meat out of the smoke house, chickens,
+squabs, fresh beef, shoats, sheep, biscuits or cornbread, rice,
+potatoes, beans, syrup and any garden vegetables. Sometimes they went
+fishing to add to their menu.</p>
+
+<p>The single male slaves lived together in the "boy house" and had just as
+much as others. There were a lot of women who did nothing but sew,
+making work clothes for the hands. Their Sunday clothes were bought with
+the money they made off the little "patches" the master let them work
+for themselves.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.207204" id="v.043p.207204"></a>[204]</span>
+
+<p>Mr. Jimmy took Shade to the war with him. Shade had to wait on him as a
+body servant then tend to the two horses. Bullets went through Shade's
+coat and hat many times but "de Lord was takin' care" of him and he
+didn't get hurt. They were in the battle of Appomatox and "at the
+surrenderin'," April 8, 1865, but the "evidence warn't sworn out until
+May 29, so that's when the niggers celebrate emancipation."</p>
+
+<p>Shade's brother helped lay the R.R. from Atlanta to Macon so the
+Confederate soldiers and ammunition could move faster.</p>
+
+<p>In those days a negro wasn't grown until he was 21 regardless of how
+large he was. Shade was "near 'bout" grown when the war was over but
+worked for Mr. Neal four years. His father and mother rented a patch,
+mule and plow from Mr. Neal and the family was together. At first they
+gave the niggers only a tenth of what they raised but they couldn't get
+along on it and after a "lot of mouthin' about it" they gave them a
+third. That wasn't enough to live on either so more "mouthin" about it
+until they gave them a half, "and thats what they still gits today."</p>
+
+<p>When the slaves went 'courtin' and the man and woman decided to get
+married, they went to the man's master for permission then to the
+woman's master. There was no ceremony if both masters said "alright"
+they were considered married and it was called "jumpin' the broomstick."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.208205" id="v.043p.208205"></a>[205]</span>
+
+<p>Signs were "more true" in the olden days than now. God lead his people
+by dreams then. One night Shade dreamed of a certain road he used to
+walk over often and at the fork he found a lead pencil, then a little
+farther on he dreamed of a purse with $2.43 in it. Next day he went
+farther and just like the dream he found the pocketbook with $2.43 in
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Shade now works at the Kincaid Mill No. 2, he makes sacks and takes up
+waste. He thinks he's lived so long because he never eats hot food or
+takes any medicine. "People takes too much medicine now days" he says
+and when he feels bad he just smokes his corn cob pipe or takes a chew
+of tobacco.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.209206" id="v.043p.209206"></a>[206]</span>
+
+<a name="RobertsDora"></a>
+
+<h3>DORA ROBERTS</h3>
+<br />
+
+<blockquote><p>Dora Roberts was born in 1849 and was a slave of Joseph Maxwell of
+Liberty County. The latter owned a large number of slaves and
+plantations in both Liberty and Early Counties. During the war "Salem"
+the plantation in Liberty County was sold and the owner moved to Early
+County where he owned two plantations known as "Nisdell" and "Rosedhu".</p>
+
+<p>Today, at 88 years of age, Aunt Dora is a fine specimen of the fast
+disappearing type of ante-bellum Negro. Her shrewd dark eyes glowing, a
+brown paper sack perched saucily on her white cottony hair, and puffing
+contentedly on an old corn cob pipe, the old woman began her recital
+what happened during plantation days.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>"Dey is powerful much to tell ob de days ob slabry, chile, an' it come
+to me in pieces. Dis story ain't in no rotation 'cause my mind it don't
+do dat kinda function, but I tell it as it come ta me. De colored folks
+had dey fun as well as dey trials and tribulations, 'cause dat Sat'day
+nigh dance at de plantation wuz jist de finest ting we wanted in dem
+days. All de slabes fum de udder plantation dey cum ta our barn an' jine
+in an' if dey had a gal on dis plantation dey lob, den dat wuz da time
+dey would court. Dey would swing to de band dat made de music. My
+brother wuz de captain ob de quill band an' dey sure could make you
+shout an' dance til you quz [TR: wuz?] nigh 'bout exhausted. Atta
+findin' ya gal ta dat dance den you gits passes to come courtin' on
+Sundays. Den de most ob dom dey wants git married an' dey must den git
+de consent fum de massa ceremonies wuz read ober dem and de man git
+passes fo' de week-end ta syat [TR: stay?] wid his wife. But de slabes
+dey got togedder an' have dem jump over de broom stick an' have a big
+celebration an' dance an' make merry 'til morning and it's time fo' work
+agin.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.210207" id="v.043p.210207"></a>[207]</span>
+
+<p>"We worked de fields an' kep' up de plantation 'til freedom. Ebry
+Wednesday de massa come visit us an look ober de plantation ta see dat
+all is well. He talk ta de obersheer an' find out how good de work is.
+We lub de massa an' work ha'd fo' him.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah kin 'member dat Wednesday night plain as it wuz yesterday. It seems
+lak de air 'round de quarters an' de big house filled wid excitement;
+eben de wind seem lak it wuz waitin' fo' som'ting. De dogs an' de
+pickaninnies dey sleep lazy like 'gainst de big gate waitin' fo' de
+crack ob dat whip which wuz de signal dat Julius wuz bringin' de master
+down de long dribe under de oaks. Chile, us all wuz happy knowin' date
+de fun would start.</p>
+
+<p>"All of a sudden you hear dem chilluns whoop, an' de dogs bark, den de
+car'age roll up wid a flourish, an' de coachman dressed in de fines' git
+out an' place de cookie try on de groun'. Den dey all gadder in de
+circle an' fo' dey git dey supply, dey got ta do de pigeon wing.</p>
+
+<p>"Chile, you ain't neber seen sich flingin' ob de arms an' legs in yo'
+time. Dem pickaninnies dey had de natural born art ob twistin' dey body
+any way dey wish. Dat dere ting dey calls truckin' now an' use to be
+chimmy, ain't had no time wid de dancin' dem chilluns do. Dey claps dey
+hands and keep de time, while dat old brudder ob mine he blows de
+quills. Massa he would allus bring de big tray ob 'lasses cookies fo'
+all de chilluns. Fast as de tray would empty, Massa send ta de barrel
+fo' more. De niggers do no work dat day, but dey jist celebrate.</p>
+
+<p>"Atta de war broke out we wuz all ca'yhed up to de plantation in Early
+County to stay 'til atta de war. De day de mancipation wuz read dey wuz
+sadness an' gladness. De ole Massa he call us all togedder an' wid tears
+in his eyes he say&mdash;'You is all free now an' you can go jist whar you
+please. I hab no more jurisdiction ober you. All who stay will be well
+cared for.' But de most ob us wanted to come back to de place whar we
+libed befo'&mdash;Liberty
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.211208" id="v.043p.211208"></a>[208]</span>
+County.</p>
+
+<p>"So he outfitted de wagons wid horses an' mules an' gib us what dey wuz
+ob privisions on de plantation an' sent us on our way ta de ole
+plantation in Liberty County. Dare wuz six horses ta de wagons. 'Long de
+way de wagons broke down 'cause de mules ain't had nothin' ta eat an'
+most ob dem died. We git in sich a bad fix some ob de people died. When
+it seem lak we wuz all gwine die, a planter come along de road an' he
+stopped ta find out what wuz de matter. Wan he heard our story an' who
+our master wuz he git a message to him 'bout us.</p>
+
+<p>"It seem lak de good Lord musta answered de prayers ob his chillun fo'
+'long way down de road we seed our Massa comin' an' he brung men an'
+horses to git us safely ta de ole home. When he got us dare, I neber see
+him no more 'cause he went back up in Early County an' atta I work dere
+at de plantation a long time den I come ta de city whyah my sister be
+wid one ob my master's oldest daughters&mdash;a Mrs. Dunwodies[TR: ?? first
+letter of name not readable], who she wuz nursin' fo'.</p>
+
+<p>"An' dat's 'bout all dey is ta tell. When I sits an' rocks here on de
+porch it all comes back ta me. Seems sometimes lak I wuz still dere on
+de plantation. An' it seem lak it's mos' time fo' de massa ta be comin'
+ta see how tings are goin'."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.212209" id="v.043p.212209"></a>[209]</span>
+
+<a name="RogersFerebe"></a>
+
+<h3>Written by Ruth Chitty<br />
+Research Worker<br />
+District #2<br />
+Rewritten by Velma Bell<br />
+<br />
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW: AUNT FEREBE ROGERS<br />
+Baldwin County<br />
+Milledgeville, Ga.</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>More than a century lies in the span of memory of "Aunt Ferebe" Rogers.
+The interviewers found her huddled by the fireside, all alone while her
+grandaughter worked on a WPA Project to make the living for them both.
+In spite of her years and her frail physique, her memory was usually
+clear, only occasionally becoming too misty for scenes to stand out
+plainly. Her face lighted with a reminiscent smile when she was asked to
+"tell us something about old times."</p>
+
+<p>"I 'members a whole heap 'bout slav'ey times. Law, honey, when freedom
+come I had five chillen. Five chillen and ten cents!" and her crackled
+laughter was spirited.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey says I'm a hundred and eight or nine years old, but I don't think
+I'm quite as old as dat. I knows I'se over a hundred, dough.</p>
+
+<p>"I was bred and born on a plantation on Brier Creek in Baldwin County.
+My ole marster was Mr. Sam Hart. He owned my mother. She had thirteen
+chillen. I was de oldest, so I tuck devil's fare.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy was a ole-time free nigger. He was a good shoe-maker, and
+could make as fine shoes and boots as ever you see. But he never would
+work till he was plumb out o' money&mdash;den he had to work.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.213210" id="v.043p.213210"></a>[210]</span>
+But he quit
+jes' soon as he made a little money. Mr. Chat Morris (he had a regular
+shoe shop)&mdash;he offered him studdy work makin' boots and shoes for him.
+Was go'n' pay him $300. a year. But he wouldn't take it. Was too lazy.
+De ole-time free niggers had to tell how dey make dey livin', and if dey
+couldn't give satisfaction 'bout it, dey was put on de block and sold to
+de highest bidder. Most of 'em sold for 3 years for $50. My daddy
+brought $100. when he was sold for three or four years.</p>
+
+<p>"I was on de block twice myself. When de old head died dey was so many
+slaves for de chillen to draw for, we was put on de block. Mr. John
+Baggett bought me den; said I was a good breedin' 'oman. Den later, one
+de young Hart marsters bought me back.</p>
+
+<p>"All de slaves had diff'unt work to do. My auntie was one de weavers.
+Old Miss had two looms goin' all de time. She had a old loom and a new
+loom. My husband made de new loom for Old Miss. He was a carpenter and
+he worked on outside jobs after he'd finished tasks for his marster. He
+use to make all de boxes dey buried de white folks and de slaves in, on
+de Hart and Golden Plantations. Dey was pretty as you see, too.</p>
+
+<p>"I was a fiel' han' myself. I come up twix' de plow handles. I warn't de
+fastes' one wid a hoe, but I didn't turn my back on nobody plowin'. No,
+_mam_.</p>
+
+<p>"My marster had over a thousand acres o' land. He was good to us. We had
+plenty to eat, like meat and bread and vegetables. We raised eve'ything
+on de plantation&mdash;wheat, corn, potatoes, peas, hogs, cows, sheep,
+chickens&mdash;jes' eve'ything.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.214211" id="v.043p.214211"></a>[211]</span>
+
+<p>"All de clo'es was made on de plantation, too. Dey spun de thread from
+cotton and wool, and dyed it and wove it. We had cutters and dem dat
+done de sewin'. I still got de fus' dress my husband give me. Lemme show
+it to you."</p>
+
+<p>Gathering her shawl about her shoulders, and reaching for her stick, she
+hobbled across the room to an old hand-made chest.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband made dis chis' for me." Raising the top, she began to search
+eagerly through the treasured bits of clothing for the "robe-tail
+muslin" that had been the gift of a long-dead husband. One by one the
+garments came out&mdash;her daughter's dress, two little bonnets all faded
+and worn ("my babies' bonnets"), her husband's coat.</p>
+
+<p>"And dat's my husband's mother's bonnet. It use to be as pretty a black
+as you ever see. It's faded brown now. It was dyed wid walnut."</p>
+
+<p>The chest yielded up old cotton cards, and horns that had been used to
+call the slaves. Finally the "robe-tail muslin" came to light. The soft
+material, so fragile with age that a touch sufficed to reduce it still
+further to rags, was made with a full skirt and plain waist, and still
+showed traces of a yellow color and a sprigged design.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband was Kinchen Rogers. His marster was Mr. Bill Golden, and he
+live 'bout fo' mile from where I stayed on de Hart plantation."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.215212" id="v.043p.215212"></a>[212]</span>
+
+<p>"Aunt Ferebe, how did you meet your husband?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see, us slaves went to de white folks church a-Sunday.
+Marster, he was a prim'tive Baptis', and he try to keep his slaves from
+goin' to other churches. We had baptisin's fust Sundays. Back in dem
+days dey baptised in de creek, but at de windin' up o' freedom, dey dug
+a pool. I went to church Sundays, and dat's where I met my husband. I
+been ma'ied jes' one time. He de daddy o' all my chillen'. (I had
+fifteen in all.)"</p>
+
+<p>"Who married you, Aunt Ferebe. Did you have a license?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who ever heered a nigger havin' a license?" and she rocked with
+high-pitched laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Young marster was fixin' to ma'y us, but he got col' feet, and a
+nigger by name o' Enoch Golden ma'ied us. He was what we called a
+'double-headed nigger'&mdash;he could read and write, and he knowed so much.
+On his dyin' bed he said he been de death o' many a nigger 'cause he
+taught so many to read and write.</p>
+
+<p>"Me and my husband couldn't live together till after freedom 'cause we
+had diffunt marsters. When freedom come, marster wanted all us niggers
+to sign up to stay till Chris'man. Bless, yo' soul, I didn't sign up. I
+went to my husband! But he signed up to stay wid his marster till
+Chris'man. After dat we worked on shares on de Hart plantation; den we
+farmed fo'-five years wid Mr. Bill Johnson."</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Ferebe, are these better times, or do you think slavery times were
+happier?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now, you ax me for de truth, didn't you?&mdash;and I'm
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.216213" id="v.043p.216213"></a>[213]</span>
+goin' to tell
+yo' de truth. I don't tell no lies. Yes, mam, dese has been better times
+to me. I think hit's better to work for yourself and have what you make
+dan to work for somebody else and don't git nuttin' out it. Slav'ey days
+was mighty hard. My marster was good to us (I mean he didn't beat us
+much, and he give us plenty plain food) but some slaves suffered awful.
+My aunt was beat cruel once, and lots de other slaves. When dey got
+ready to beat yo', dey'd strip you' stark mother naked and dey'd say,
+'Come here to me, God damn you! Come to me clean! Walk up to dat tree,
+and damn you, hug dat tree! Den dey tie yo' hands 'round de tree, den
+tie yo' feets; den dey'd lay de rawhide on you and cut yo' buttocks
+open. Sometimes dey'd rub turpentine and salt in de raw places, and den
+beat you some mo'. Oh, hit was awful! And what could you do? Dey had all
+de 'vantage of you.</p>
+
+<p>"I never did git no beatin' like dat, but I got whuppin's&mdash;plenty o'
+'em. I had plenty o' devilment in me, but I quit all my devilment when I
+was ma'ied. I use to fight&mdash;fight wid anything I could git my han's on.</p>
+
+<p>"You had to have passes to go from one plantation to 'nother. Some de
+niggers would slip off sometime and go widout a pass, or maybe marster
+was busy and dey didn't want to bother him for a pass, so dey go widout
+one. In eve'y dee-strick dey had 'bout twelve men dey call patterollers.
+Dey ride up and down and aroun' looking for niggers widout passes. If
+dey ever caught you off yo' plantation wid no pass, dey beat you all
+over.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.217214" id="v.043p.217214"></a>[214]</span>
+
+<p>"Yes'm, I 'member a song 'bout&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Run, nigger, run, de patteroller git you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Slip over de fence slick as a eel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">White man ketch you by de heel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Run, nigger run!'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>No amount of coaxing availed to make her sing the whole of the song, or
+to tell any more of the words.</p>
+
+<p>"When slaves run away, dey always put de blood-hounds on de tracks.
+Marster always kep' one hound name' Rock. I can hear 'im now when dey
+was on de track, callin', 'Hurrah, Rock, hurrah, Rock! Ketch 'im!'</p>
+
+<p>"Dey always send Rock to fetch 'im down when dey foun' 'im. Dey had de
+dogs trained to keep dey teef out you till dey tole 'em to bring you
+down. Den de dogs 'ud go at yo' th'oat, and dey'd tear you to pieces,
+too. After a slave was caught, he was brung home and put in chains.</p>
+
+<p>"De marsters let de slaves have little patches o' lan' for deyse'ves. De
+size o' de patch was 'cordin' to de size o' yo' family. We was 'lowed
+'bout fo' acres. We made 'bout five hundred pounds o' lint cotton, and
+sol' it at Warrenton. Den we used de money to buy stuff for Chris'man."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you have big times at Christmas, Aunt Ferebe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Chris'man&mdash;huh!&mdash;Chris'man warn't no diffunt from other times. We used
+to have quiltin' parties, candy pullin's, dances, corn shuckin's, games
+like thimble and sich like."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Ferebe refused to sing any of the old songs. "No, mam, I ain't
+go'n' do dat. I th'oo wid all dat now. Yes, mam, I
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.218215" id="v.043p.218215"></a>[215]</span>
+'members 'em all
+right, but I ain't go'n' sing 'em. No'm, nor say de words neither. All
+dat's pas' now.</p>
+
+<p>"Course dey had doctors in dem days, but we used mostly home-made
+medicines. I don't believe in doctors much now. We used sage tea, ginger
+tea, rosemary tea&mdash;all good for colds and other ail-ments, too.</p>
+
+<p>"We had men and women midwives. Dr. Cicero Gibson was wid me when my
+fus' baby come. I was twenty-five years old den. My baby chile
+seventy-five now."</p>
+
+<p>"Auntie, did you learn to read and write?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, _mam_, I'd had my right arm cut off at de elbow if I'd a-done dat.
+If dey foun' a nigger what could read and write, dey'd cut yo' arm off
+at de elbow, or sometimes at de shoulder."</p>
+
+<p>In answer to a query about ghosts, she said&mdash;"No, mam, I ain't seed
+nuttin' like dat. Folks come tellin' me dey see sich and sich a thing. I
+say hit's de devil dey see. I ain't seed nuttin' yit. No'm, I don't
+believe in no signs, neither."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you believe a screeeh owl has anything to do with death?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mam, 'fo' one my chillen died, squinch owl come to my house ev'ey
+night and holler. After de chile die he ain't come no mo'. Cows mooin'
+or dogs howlin' after dark means death, too.</p>
+
+<p>"No, man, I don't believe in no cunjurs. One cunjur-man come here once.
+He try his bes' to overcome me, but he couldn't do nuttin' wid me. After
+dat, he tole my husband he couldn't do nuttin'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.219216" id="v.043p.219216"></a>[216]</span>
+to me, 'cause I didn't
+believe in him, and dem cunjur-folks can't hurt you less'n you believes
+in 'em. He say he could make de sun stan' still, and do wonders, but I
+knowed dat warn't so, 'cause can't nobody stop de sun 'cep' de man what
+made hit, and dat's God. I don't believe in no cunjurs.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't pay much 'tention to times o' de moon to do things, neither. I
+plants my garden when I gits ready. But bunch beans does better if you
+plants 'em on new moon in Ap'il. Plant butterbeans on full moon in
+Ap'il&mdash;potatoes fus' o' March.</p>
+
+<p>"When de war broke out de damn Yankees come to our place dey done
+eve'ything dat was bad. Dey burn eve'ything dey couldn't use, and dey
+tuck a heap o' corn. Marster had a thousand bushels de purtiest shucked
+corn, all nice good ears, in de pen at de house. Dey tuck all dat.
+Marster had some corn pens on de river, dough, dey didn't find. I jes'
+can't tell you all dey done.</p>
+
+<p>"How come I live so long, you say?&mdash;I don't know&mdash;jes' de goodness o' de
+Lawd, I reckon. I worked hard all my life, and always tried to do
+right."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.220217" id="v.043p.220217"></a>[217]</span>
+
+<a name="RogersHenry"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 1<br />
+Ex-Slave #92]<br />
+<br />
+HENRY ROGERS of WASHINGTON-WILKES<br />
+by Minnie Branham Stonestreet<br />
+Washington-Wilkes<br />
+Georgia<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.221218" id="v.043p.221218"></a>[218]</span>
+
+
+<p>Henry Rogers of Washington-Wilkes is known by almost every one in the
+town and county. To the men around town he is "Deacon", to his old
+friends back in Hancock County (Georgia) where he was born and reared,
+he is "Brit"; to everybody else he is "Uncle Henry", and he is a friend
+to all. For forty-one years he has lived in Washington-Wilkes where he
+has worked as waiter, as lot man, and as driver for a livery stable when
+he "driv drummers" around the country anywhere they wanted to go and in
+all kinds of weather. He is proud that he made his trips safely and was
+always on time. Then when automobiles put the old time livery stables
+out of business he went to work in a large furniture and undertaking
+establishment where he had charge of the colored department. Finally he
+decided to accept a job as janitor and at one time was janitor for three
+banks in town. He is still working as janitor in two buildings, despite
+his seventy-three years.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Henry's "book learning" is very limited, but he has a store of
+knowledge gathered here and there that is surprising. He uses very
+little dialect except when he is excited or worried. He speaks of his
+heart as "my time keeper". When he promises anything in the future he
+says, "Please the Lord to spare me", and when anyone gets a bit
+impatient he bids them, "Be paciable, be paciable". Dismal is one of his
+favorite words but it is always "dism". When he says "Now, I'm tellin'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.222219" id="v.043p.222219"></a>[219]</span>
+yer financially" or "dat's financial", he means that he is being very
+frank and what he is saying is absolutely true.</p>
+
+<p>Regarded highly as the local weather prophet, Uncle Henry gets up every
+morning before daybreak and scans the heavens to see what kind of
+weather is on its way. He guards all these "signs" well and under no
+consideration will he tell them. They were given to him by someone who
+has passed on and he keeps them as a sacred trust. If asked, upon making
+a prediction, "How do you know?" Uncle Henry shakes his wise old head
+and with a wave of the hand says, "Dat's all right, you jess see now,
+it's goin' ter be dat way". And it usually is!</p>
+
+<p>Seventy-three years ago "last gone June" Uncle Henry was born in the Mt.
+Zion community in Hancock county (Georgia), seven miles from Sparta. His
+mother was Molly Navery Hunt, his father, Jim Rogers. They belonged to
+Mr. Jenkins Hunt and his wife "Miss Rebecca". Henry was the third of
+eight children. He has to say about his early life:</p>
+
+<p>"Yassum, I wuz born right over there in Hancock county, an' stayed there
+'til the year 1895 when Mrs. Riley come fer me to hep' her in the Hotel
+here in Washington an' I been here ev'ry since. I recollects well living
+on the Hunt plantation. It wuz a big place an' we had fifteen or twenty
+slaves"&mdash;(The "we" was proudly possessive)&mdash;"we wuz all as happy passel
+o' niggers as could be found anywhere. Aunt Winnie wuz the cook an' the
+kitchen wuz a big old one out in the yard an' had a fireplace
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.223220" id="v.043p.223220"></a>[220]</span>
+that would
+'commodate a whole fence rail, it wuz so big, an' had pot hooks, pots,
+big old iron ones, an' everything er round to cook on. Aunt Winnie had a
+great big wooden tray dat she would fix all us little niggers' meals in
+an' call us up an' han' us a wooden spoon apiece an' make us all set
+down 'round the tray an' eat all us wanted three times ev'ry day. In one
+corner of the kitchen set a loom my Mother use to weave on. She would
+weave way into the night lots of times.</p>
+
+<p>"The fust thing I 'members is follerin' my Mother er 'round. She wuz the
+housegirl an' seamstress an' everywhere she went I wuz at her heels. My
+father wuz the overseer on the Hunt place. We never had no hard work to
+do. My fust work wuz 'tendin' the calves an' shinin' my Master's shoes.
+How I did love to put a Sunday shine on his boots an' shoes! He called
+me his nigger an' wuz goin' ter make a barber out o' me if slavery had
+er helt on. As it wuz, I shaved him long as he lived. We lived in the
+Quarters over on a high hill 'cross the spring-branch from the white
+peoples' house. We had comfortable log cabins an' lived over there an'
+wuz happy. Ole Uncle Alex Hunt wuz the bugler an' ev'ry mornin' at 4:00
+o'clock he blowed the bugle fer us ter git up, 'cept Sunday mornin's, us
+all slept later on Sundays.</p>
+
+<p>"When I wuz a little boy us played marbles, mumble peg, an' all sich
+games. The little white an' black boys played together, an' ev'ry time
+'Ole Miss' whipped her boys she whipped me too,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.224221" id="v.043p.224221"></a>[221]</span>
+but nobody 'cept my
+Mistess ever teched me to punish me.</p>
+
+<p>"I recollects one Sadday night ole Uncle Aaron Hunt come in an' he must
+er been drinkin' or sumpin' fer he got ter singin' down in the Quarters
+loud as he could 'Go Tell Marse Jesus I Done Done All I Kin Do', an'
+nobody could make him hush singin'. He got into sich er row 'til they
+had ter go git some o' the white folks ter come down an' quiet him down.
+Dat wuz the only 'sturbance 'mongst the niggers I ever 'members.</p>
+
+<p>"I wuz so little when the War come on I don't member but one thing 'bout
+it an' that wuz when it wuz over with an' our white mens come home all
+de neighbors, the Simpsons, the Neals, the Allens all living on
+plantations 'round us had a big dinner over at my white peoples', the
+Hunts, an' it sho wuz a big affair. Ev'rybody from them families wuz
+there an' sich rejoicin' I never saw. I won't forgit that time.</p>
+
+<p>"I allus been to Church. As a little boy my folks took me to ole Mt
+Zion. We went to the white peoples' Church 'til the colored folks had
+one of they own. The white folks had services in Mt Zion in the mornings
+an' the niggers in the evenin's."</p>
+
+<p>When a colored person died back in the days when Uncle Henry was coming
+on, he said they sat up with the dead and had prayers for the living.
+There was a Mr. Beman in the community who made coffins, and on the Hunt
+place old Uncle Aaron Hunt
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.225222" id="v.043p.225222"></a>[222]</span>
+helped him. The dead were buried in home-made
+coffins and the hearse was a one horse wagon.</p>
+
+<p>"When I wuz a growin' up" said Uncle Henry, "I wore a long loose shirt
+in the summer, an' in the winter plenty of good heavy warm clothes. I
+had 'nits an' lice' pants an' hickory stripe waists when I wuz a little
+boy. All these my Mother spun an' wove the cloth fer an' my Mistess
+made. When I wuz older I had copperas pants an' shirts."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Henry has many signs but is reluctant to tell them. Finally he was
+prevailed upon to give several. What he calls his "hant sign" is: "If
+you runs into hot heat sudden, it is a sho sign hants is somewheres
+'round."</p>
+
+<p>When a rooster comes up to the door and crows, if he is standing with
+his head towards the door, somebody is coming, if he is standing with
+his tail towards the door, it is a sign of death, according to Uncle
+Henry. It is good luck for birds to build their nests near a house, and
+if a male red bird comes around the woodpile chirping, get ready for bad
+weather for it is on its way.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Henry is a pretty good doctor too, but he doesn't like to tell his
+remedies. He did say that life everlasting tea is about as good thing
+for a cold as can be given and for hurts of any kind there is nothing
+better than soft rosin, fat meat and a little soot mixed up and bound to
+the wound. He is excellent with animals and when a mule, dog, pig or
+anything
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.226223" id="v.043p.226223"></a>[223]</span>
+gets sick his neighbors call him in and he doctors them and
+usually makes them well.</p>
+
+<p>As for conjuring, Uncle Henry has never known much about it, but he said
+when he was a little fellow he heard the old folks talk about a mixture
+of devil's snuff and cotton stalk roots chipped up together and put into
+a little bag and that hidden under the front steps. This was to make all
+who came up the steps friendly and peacable even if they should happen
+to be coming on some other mission.</p>
+
+<p>After the War the Rogers family moved from the Hunts' to the Alfriend
+plantation adjoining. As the Alfriends were a branch of the Hunt family
+they considered they were still owned as in slavery by the same "white
+peoples". They lived there until Uncle Henry moved to Washington-Wilkes
+in 1895.</p>
+
+<p>Christmas was a great holiday on the plantation. There was no work done
+and everybody had a good time with plenty of everything good to eat.
+Easter was another time when work was laid aside. A big Church service
+took place Sunday and on Monday a picnic was attended by all the negroes
+in the community.</p>
+
+<p>There were Fourth of July celebrations, log rollings, corn shuckings,
+house coverings and quilting parties. In all of these except the Fourth
+of July celebration it was a share-the-work idea. Uncle Henry grew a bit
+sad when he recalled how "peoples use ter be so good 'bout hep'in' one
+'nother, an'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.227224" id="v.043p.227224"></a>[224]</span>
+now dey don't do nothin' fer nobody lessen' dey pays 'em."
+He told how, when a neighbor cleared a new ground and needed help, he
+invited all the men for some distance around and had a big supper
+prepared. They rolled logs into huge piles and set them afire. When all
+were piled high and burning brightly, supper was served by the fire
+light. Sometimes the younger ones danced around the burning logs. When
+there was a big barn full of corn to be shucked the neighbors gladly
+gathered in, shucked the corn for the owner, who had a fiddler and maybe
+some one to play the banjo. The corn was shucked to gay old tunes and
+piled high in another barn. Then after a "good hot supper" there was
+perhaps a dance in the cleared barn. When a neighbor's house needed
+covering, he got the shingles and called in his neighbors and friends,
+who came along with their wives. While the men worked atop the house the
+women were cooking a delicious dinner down in the kitchen. At noon it
+was served amid much merry making. By sundown the house was finished and
+the friends went home happy in the memory of a day spent in toil freely
+given to one who needed it.</p>
+
+<p>All those affairs were working ones, but Uncle Henry told of one that
+marked the end of toil for a season and that was the Fourth of July as
+celebrated on the Hunt and Alfriend plantations. He said: "On the
+evenin' of the third of July all plows, gear, hoes an' all sich farm
+tools wuz bro't in frum the fields an' put in the big grove in front o'
+the house where a long table had been
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.228225" id="v.043p.228225"></a>[225]</span>
+built. On the Fo'th a barbecue wuz
+cooked, when dinner wuz ready all the han's got they plows an' tools,
+the mules wuz bro't up an' gear put on them, an' den ole Uncle Aaron
+started up a song 'bout the crops wuz laid by an' res' time had come,
+an' everybody grabbed a hoe er sumpin', put it on they shoulder an'
+jined the march 'round an' round the table behind Uncle Aaron singin'
+an' marchin', Uncle Aaron linin' off the song an' ev'ry body follerin'
+him. It wuz a sight to see all the han's an' mules er goin' 'round the
+table like that. Den when ev'ry body wuz might nigh 'zausted, they
+stopped an' et a big barbecue dinner. Us use ter work hard to git laid
+by by de Fo'th so's we could celebrate. It sho' wuz a happy time on our
+plantations an' the white peoples enjoyed it as much as us niggers did.</p>
+
+<p>"Us use ter have good times over there in Hancock County", continued
+Uncle Henry. Ev'rybody wuz so good an' kind ter one 'nother; 't'ain't
+like that now&mdash;no mam, not lak it use ter be. Why I 'members onst, when
+I fust growed up an' wuz farmin' fer myself, I got sick way long up in
+the Spring, an' my crop wuz et up in grass when one evenin' Mr.
+Harris&mdash;(he wuz overseein' fer Mr. Treadwell over on the next plantation
+to the Alfriends)&mdash;come by. I wuz out in the field tryin' ter scratch
+'round as best I could, Mr. Harris say: 'Brit, you in de grass mighty
+bad.' I say: 'Yassir, I is, but I been sick an' couldn't hep' myself,
+that's how come I so behind.' He say: 'Look lak you needs hep'.'
+'Yassir,' I says, 'but I ain't got nobody to work but me.' Dat's all he
+said. Well sir, the nex' mornin' by times over comes Mr. Harris wid six
+plows
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.229226" id="v.043p.229226"></a>[226]</span>
+an' eight hoe han's an' they give me a whole day's work an' when
+they finished that evenin' they want a sprig of grass in my crop; it wuz
+clean as this floor, an' I'se tellin' yer the truth. Dat's the way
+peoples use ter do, but not no mo'&mdash;everybody too selfish now, an' they
+think ain't nobody got responsibilits (responsibilities) but them."</p>
+
+<p>Speaking of his early life Uncle Henry continued: "When I growed up I
+broke race horses fer white mens an' raced horses too, had rooster
+fights an' done all them kind o' things, but I 'sought 'ligion an' found
+it an' frum that day to this I ain't never done them things no mo'. When
+I jined the Church I had a Game rooster named 'Ranger' that I had won
+ev'ry fight that I had matched him in. Peoples come miles ter see Ranger
+fight; he wuz a Warhorse Game. After I come to be a member of the Church
+I quit fightin' Ranger so Mr. Sykes come over an' axed me what I would
+take fer him, I told him he could have him&mdash;I warn't goin' to fight wid
+him any mo'. He took him an' went over three states, winnin' ev'ry fight
+he entered him in an' come home wid fifteen hundred dollars he made on
+Ranger. He give me fifty dollars, but I never wanted him back. Ranger
+wuz a pet an' I could do anything wid 'im. I'd hold out my arm an' tell
+him to come up an' he'd fly up on my arm an' crow. He'd get on up on my
+haid an' crow too. One rainy day 'fore I give him away he got in the lot
+an' kilt three turkeys an' a gobbler fer my Mistess. She got mighty mad
+an' I sho wuz skeered 'til Marse took mine an' Ranger's part an'
+wouldn't let her do nothin' wid us."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.230227" id="v.043p.230227"></a>[227]</span>
+
+<p>Forty-seven years ago Uncle Henry married Annie Tiller of Hancock
+County. They had four children, three of whom are living. About his
+courtship and marriage he has to say: "I wuz at Sunday School one Sunday
+an' saw Annie fer the fust time. I went 'round where she wuz an' wuz
+made 'quainted with her an' right then an' there I said to myself,
+'She's my gal'. I started goin' over to see her an' met her folks. I
+liked her Pa an Ma an' I would set an' talk with them an' 'pear not to
+be payin' much 'tention to Annie. I took candy an' nice things an' give
+to the family, not jest to her. I stood in with the ole folks an'
+'t'warn't long 'fore me an' Annie wuz married." Uncle Henry said he took
+Annie to Sparta to his Pastor's home for the marriage and the preacher
+told him he charged three dollars for the ceremony. "But I tole him I
+warnt goin' to give him but er dollar an' a half 'cause I wuz one of his
+best payin' members an' he ought not to charge me no more than dat. An'
+I never paid him no mo' neither, an' dat wuz er plenty."</p>
+
+<p>Though he is crippled in his "feets" he is hale and hearty and manages
+to work without missing a day. He is senior Steward in his church and
+things there go about like he says even though he isn't a preacher. All
+the members seem to look to him for "consulation an' 'couragement". In
+all his long life he has "never spoke a oath if I knows it, an' I hates
+cussin'." He speaks of his morning devotions as "havin' prayers wid
+myself". His
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.231228" id="v.043p.231228"></a>[228]</span>
+blessing at mealtime is the same one he learned in his
+"white peoples'" home when he was a little boy:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"We humbly thank Thee, our Heavenly Father,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">for what we have before us."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Uncle Henry says: "I loves white peoples an' I'm a-livin' long 'cause in
+my early days dey cared fer me an' started me off right&mdash;they's my bes'
+frien's."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.232229" id="v.043p.232229"></a>[229]</span>
+
+<a name="RushJulia"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 5<br />
+E.F. Driskell<br />
+12/30/36<br />
+<br />
+JULIA RUSH, Ex-Slave<br />
+109 years old]</h3>
+
+
+<p>[TR: The beginning of each line on the original typewritten pages for
+this interview is very faint, and some words have been reconstructed
+from context. Questionable entries are followed by [??]; words that
+could not be deciphered are indicated by [--].]</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>Mrs. Julia Rush was born in 1826 on Saint Simons Island, Georgia. Mrs.
+Rush, her mother, and three sisters were the property of a Frenchman
+named Colonel De Binien, a very wealthy land owner. Mrs. Rush does not
+remember her father as he was sold away from his family when she was a
+baby.</p>
+
+<p>As a child Mrs. Rush served as playmate to one of the Colonel's
+daughters and so all that she had to do was to play from morning till
+night. When she grew older she started working in the kitchen in the
+master's house. Later she was sent to the fields where she worked side
+by side with her mother and three sisters from sunup until sundown.
+Mrs. Rush says that she has plowed so much that she believes she can
+"outplow" any man.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of the white overseer usually found on plantations the Colonel
+used one of the slaves to act as foreman of the field hands. He was
+known to the other slaves as the "Nigger Driver" and it was he who
+awakened all every morning. It was so dark until torch lights had to be
+used to see by. Those women who had babies took them along to the field
+in a basket which they placed on their heads. All of the hands were
+given a certain amount of work to perform each day and if the work was
+not completed a whipping might be forthcoming. Breakfast was sent to the
+field to the hands and if at dinner time they were not too far away from
+their cabins they were permitted to go home[??]. At night they prepared
+their own meals in their individual cabins.</p>
+
+<p>All food on the colonel's plantation was issued daily from the corn
+house. Each person was given enough corn to make a sufficient amount of
+bread for the day when ground. Then they went out and dug their potatoes
+from the colonel's garden. No meat whatsoever was issued. It was up to
+the slaves to catch fish, oysters, and other sea food for their meat
+supply. All those who desired to were permitted to raise chickens,
+watermelons and vegetables. There was no restriction on any as to what
+must be done with the produce so raised. It could be sold or kept for
+personal consumption.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel De Binien always saw that his slaves had sufficient clothing. In
+the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.233230" id="v.043p.233230"></a>[230]</span>
+summer months the men were given two shirts, two pairs of pants, and
+two pairs of underwear. All of these clothes were made of cotton and all
+were sewed on the plantation. No shoes were worn in the summer. The
+women were given two dresses, two underskirts, and two pairs of
+underwear. When the winter season approached another issue of clothes
+was given. At this time shoes were given. They were made of heavy red
+leather and were known as "brogans".</p>
+
+<p>The slave quarters on the plantation were located behind the colonel's
+cabin[??]. All were made of logs. The chinks in the walls were filled
+with mud to keep the weather out. The floors were of wood in order to
+protect the occupants from the dampness. The only furnishings were a
+crude bed and several benches. All cooking was done at the large
+fireplace in the rear of the one room.</p>
+
+<p>When Colonel De Binion's [TR: earlier, De Binien] wife died he divided
+his slaves among the children. Mrs. Rush was given to her former
+playmate who was at the time married and living in Carrollton, Georgia.
+She was very mean and often punished her by beating her on her forearm
+for the slightest offence. At other times she made her husband whip her
+(Mrs. Rush) on her bare back with a cowhide whip. Mrs. Rush says that
+her young Mistress thought that her husband was being intimate with her
+and so she constantly beat and mistreated her. On one occasion all of
+the hair on her head (which was long and straight) was cut from her head
+by the young mistress.</p>
+
+<p>For a while Mrs. Rush worked in the fields where she plowed and hoed the
+crops along with the other slaves. Later she worked in the master's
+house where she served as maid and where she helped with the cooking.
+She was often hired out to the other planters in the vicinity. She says
+that she liked this because she always received better treatment than
+she did at her own home. These persons who hired her often gave her
+clothes as she never received a sufficient amount from her own master.</p>
+
+<p>The food was almost the same here as it had been at the other
+plantation. At the end of each week she and her fellow slaves were given
+a "little bacon, vegetables, and some corn meal."[HW: ?] This had to
+last for a certain length of time. If it was all
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.234231" id="v.043p.234231"></a>[231]</span>
+eaten before the time
+for the next issue that particular slave had to live as best he or she
+could. In such an emergency the other slaves usually shared with the
+unfortunate one.</p>
+
+<p>There was very little illness on the plantation where Mrs. Rush lived.
+Practically the only medicine ever used was castor oil and turpentine.
+Some of the slaves went to the woods and gathered roots and herbs from
+which they made their own tonics and medicines.</p>
+
+<p>According to Mrs. Rush the first of the month was always sale day for
+slaves and horses. She was sold on one of those days from her master in
+Carrollton to one Mr. Morris, who lived in Newman, Ga. Mr. Morris paid
+$1100.00 for her. She remained with him for a short while and was later
+sold to one Mr. Ray who paid the price of $1200.00. Both of these
+masters were very kind to her, but she was finally sold back to her
+former master, Mr. Archibald Burke of Carrollton, Ga.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Rush remembers that none of the slaves were allowed away from their
+plantation unless they held a pass from their master. Once when she was
+going to town to visit some friends she was accosted by a group of
+"Paddle-Rollers" who gave her a sound whipping when she was unable to
+show a pass from her master.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Rush always slept in her masters' houses after leaving Colonel De
+Binien. When she was in Carrollton her young mistress often made her
+sleep under the house when she was angry with her.</p>
+
+<p>After the war was over with and freedom was declared Mr. Burke continued
+to hold Mrs. Rush. After several unsuccessful attempts she was finally
+able to escape. She went to another part of the state where she married
+and started a family of her own.</p>
+
+<p>Because of the cruel treatment that she received at the hands of some of
+her owners[??] Mrs. Rush says that the mere thought of slavery makes her
+blood boil. Then there are those, under whom she served, who treated her
+with kindness, whom she holds no malice against.</p>
+
+<p>As far as Mrs. Rush knows the war did very little damage to Mr. Burke.
+He did not enlist as a soldier.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.235232" id="v.043p.235232"></a>[232]</span>
+
+<a name="SettlesNancy"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 1<br />
+Ex-Slave #96]<br />
+<br />
+[HW: Good ghost story on page 4.]<br />
+[HW: "revolution drummer" parts very good.]<br />
+<br />
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br />
+NANCY SETTLES, Ex-slave, Age 92<br />
+2511 Wheeler Road<br />
+(Richmond County)<br />
+Augusta, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+By: (Mrs.) MARGARET JOHNSON<br />
+Augusta, Georgia<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.236233" id="v.043p.236233"></a>[233]</span>
+
+
+<p>Nancy Settles was born 15 miles from Edgefield in South Carolina on the
+plantation of Mr. Berry Cochran.</p>
+
+<p>Until about five months ago, Nancy had been bed-ridden for three years.
+Her speech is slow, and at times it is difficult to understand her, but
+her mind is fairly clear. Her eyes frequently filled with tears, her
+voice becoming so choked she could not talk. "My Marster and Missis, my
+husban' and eight of my chaps done lef me. De Lawd mus be keepin' me
+here fur some reason. Dis here chile is all I got lef'." The "Chile"
+referred to was a woman about 69. "My fust chap was born in slavery. Me
+and my husband lived on diffunt plantashuns till after Freedom come. My
+Ma and my Pa lived on diffunt places too. My Pa uster come evy Sadday
+evenin' to chop wood out uv de wood lot and pile up plenty fur Ma till
+he come agin. On Wensday evenin', Pa uster come after he been huntin'
+and bring in possum and coon. He sho could get 'em a plenty.</p>
+
+<p>"Ma, she chop cotton and plow, and I started choppin' cotton when I wuz
+twelve years old. When I was a gal I sure wuz into plenty devilment."</p>
+
+<p>"What kind of devilment?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lawdy Miss, evy time I heayd a fiddle, my feets jes' got to dance and
+dancin' is devilment. But I ain't 'lowed to dance nothin' but de
+six-handed reel.</p>
+
+<p>"I uster take my young Misses to school ev'y day, but de older Misses
+went to boadin' school and come home ev'y Friday an'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.237234" id="v.043p.237234"></a>[234]</span>
+went back on
+Monday. No ma'am, I never learn to read and write but I kin spell some."</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy, did you go out at night and were you ever caught by the patrol?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, ma'am, I never wuz caught by de patterol; my Pa wuz the one I was
+scart uv."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you always have enough to eat, and clothes to wear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes ma'am, Marster put out a side uv meat and a barrul o' meal and all
+uv us would go and git our rations fur de week."</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose some one took more than his share, and the supply ran short."</p>
+
+<p>"Lawd Ma'am, we knowed better'n to do dat kinder thing. Eve'ybody, had
+er garden patch an' had plenty greens and taters and all dat kinder
+thing. De cloth fur de slave close wuz all made on the place and Missis
+see to mekkin' all de close we wear."</p>
+
+<p>"My Missis died endurin' of de war, but Marster he live a long time.
+Yes, Ma'am, we went to Church an to camp meetin' too. We set up in de
+galley, and ef dey too many uv us, we set in de back uv de church. Camp
+meetin' wuz de bes'. Before Missis died I wuz nussin' my young miss
+baby, and I ride in de white foke's kerrage to camp meetin' groun' and
+carry de baby. Lawdy, I seen de white folks and de slaves too shoutin'
+an gittin' 'ligion plenty times."</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy, were the slaves on your place ever whipped?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'm sometimes when de wouldn' mine, but Marster allus
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.238235" id="v.043p.238235"></a>[235]</span>
+whip 'em
+hissef, he ain't let nobody else lay er finger on his slaves but him. I
+heayd 'bout slaves been whipped but I tink de wuz whipped mostly cause
+de Marsters _could_ whip 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy do you know any ghost stories, or did you ever see a ghost?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Ma'am, I ain't never see a ghos' but I heayd de drum!"</p>
+
+<p>"What drum did you hear&mdash;war drums?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, ma'am de drum de little man beats down by Rock Crick. Some say he
+is a little man whut wears a cap and goes down the crick beating a drum
+befo' a war. He wuz a Revolushun drummer, and cum back to beat the drum
+befo' de war. But some say you can hear de drum 'most any spring now. Go
+down to the Crick and keep quiet and you hear Brrr, Brrr, Bum hum,
+louder and louder and den it goes away. Some say dey hav' seen de little
+man, but I never seen him, but I heayd de drum, 'fo de war, and ater dat
+too. There was a white man kilt hisself near our place. He uster play a
+fiddle, and some time he come back an play. I has heayd him play his
+fiddle, but I ain't seen him. Some fokes say dey is seen him in the wood
+playin' and walkin' 'bout."</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy I am glad you are better than you were the last time I came to
+see you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Ma'am, I is up now. I prayed to God and tell Him my trouble and he
+helped me get about again. This po chile uv mine does what she kin to
+pay de rent and de Welfare gives us a bit to eat but I sho do need er
+little wood, cause we is back on de rent and my chile jes scrap 'bout to
+pick up trash wood and things to burn."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.239236" id="v.043p.239236"></a>[236]</span>
+
+<a name="SheetsWill"></a>
+
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by ex-slave<br />
+<br />
+WILL SHEETS, Age 76<br />
+1290 W. Broad Street<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 />
+and<br />
+John N. Booth<br />
+District Supervisor<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Augusta, Georgia<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 13 1938]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.240237" id="v.043p.240237"></a>[237]</span>
+
+
+<p>Old Will Sheets readily complied with the request that he tell of his
+experiences during slavery days. "No'm I don't mind, its been many a
+long day since anybody axed me to talk 'bout things dat far back, but I
+laks to have somebody to talk to 'cause I can't git 'bout no more since
+I los' both of my footses, and I gits powerful lonesome sometimes.</p>
+
+<p>"I was borned in Oconee County, not far f'um whar Bishop is now. It
+warn't nothin' but a cornfield, way back in dem times. Ma was Jane
+Southerland 'fore she married my pa. He was Tom Sheets. Lawsy Miss! I
+don't know whar dey cone f'um. As far as I knows, dey was borned and
+raised on deir Marsters' plantations. Dar was seven of us chilluns. I
+was de oldes'; James, Joe, Speer, Charlie, and Ham was my brudders, and
+my onlies' sister was Frances.</p>
+
+<p>"You ax me 'bout my gram'ma and gram'pa? I can't tell you nothin' t'all
+'bout 'em. I jus' knows I had 'em and dat's all. You see Ma was a house
+gal and de mos' I seed of her was when she come to de cabin at night;
+den us chilluns was too sleepy to talk. Soon as us et, us drapped down
+on a pallet and went fast asleep. Niggers is a sleepyheaded set.</p>
+
+<p>"I was a water boy, and was 'spected to tote water f'um de spring to de
+house, and to de hands in de fiel'. I helped Mandy, one of de colored
+gals, to drive de calves to de pasture and I toted
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.241238" id="v.043p.241238"></a>[238]</span>
+in a little wood and
+done little easy jobs lak dat. Lawsy Miss! I never seed no money 'til
+atter de War. If I had a had any money what could I have done wid it,
+when I couldn't leave dat place to spend it?</p>
+
+<p>"Dare ain't much to tell 'bout what little Nigger chillun done in
+slavery days. Dem what was big enough had to wuk, and dem what warn't,
+played, slep' and scrapped. Little Niggers is bad as game chickens 'bout
+fightin'. De quarters whar us lived was log cabins chinked wid mud to
+keep out de rain and wind. Chimblies was made out of fiel' rock and red
+clay. I never seed a cabin wid more dan two rooms in it.</p>
+
+<p>"Beds warn't fancy dem days lak dey is now; leastwise I didn't see no
+fancy ones. All de beds was corded; dey had a headboard, but de pieces
+at de foot and sides was jus' wide enough for holes to run de cords
+thoo', and den de cords was pegged to hold 'em tight. Nigger chillun
+slep' on pallets on de flo'.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Jeff Southerland was a pore man, but he fed us all us could eat
+sich as turnips, cabbages, collards, green corn, fat meat, cornbread,
+'taters and sometimes chicken. Yes Ma'am, chicken dinners was sorter
+special. Us didn't have 'em too often. De cookin' was all done at de big
+house in a open fireplace what had a rack crost it dat could be pulled
+out to take de pots off de fire. 'Fore dey started cookin', a fire was
+made up ready and waitin'; den de pots of victuals was hung on de rack
+and swung in de fireplace to bile. Baking was done in skillets. Us
+cotched rabbits
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.242239" id="v.043p.242239"></a>[239]</span>
+three and four at a time in box traps sot out in de plum
+orchard. Sometimes us et 'em stewed wid dumplin's and some times dey was
+jus' plain biled, but us laked 'em bes' of all when dey was fried lak
+chickens.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! dem 'possums! How I wisht I had one right now. My pa used to ketch
+40 or 50 of 'em a winter. Atter dey married, Ma had to stay on wid Marse
+Jeff and Pa was 'bliged to keep on livin' wid Marster Marsh Sheets. His
+marster give him a pass so dat he could come and stay wid Ma at night
+atter his wuk was done, and he fetched in de 'possums. Dey was baked in
+de white folkses kitchen wid sweet 'tatoes 'roun' 'em and was barbecued
+sometimes. Us had fishes too what was mighty good eatin'. Dere warn't
+but one gyarden on de plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"Slave chillun didn't wear nothin' in summer but shirts what looked lak
+gowns wid long sleeves. Gals and boys was dressed in de same way whe
+dey was little chaps. In winter us wore shirts made out of coarse cloth
+and de pants and little coats was made out of wool. De gals wore wool
+dresses." He laughed and said: "On Sunday us jus' wore de same things.
+Did you say shoes? Lawsy Miss! I was eight or nine 'fore I had on a pair
+of shoes. On frosty mornin's when I went to de spring to fetch a bucket
+of water, you could see my feet tracks in de frost all de way dar and
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Carrie, my Mist'ess, was good as she knowed how to be. Marse and
+Mist'ess had two gals and one boy, Miss Anna, Miss Callie, and Marster
+Johnny.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.243240" id="v.043p.243240"></a>[240]</span>
+
+<p>"Marse Jeff was a good man; he never whupped and slashed his Niggers. No
+Ma'am, dere warn't nobody whupped on Marse Jeff's place dat I knows
+'bout. He didn't have no overseer. Dere warn't no need for one 'cause he
+didn't have so many slaves but what he could do de overseein' his own
+self. Marse Jeff jus' had 'bout four mens and four 'oman slaves and him
+and young Marse Johnny wukked in de fiel' 'long side of de Niggers. Dey
+went to de fiel' by daybreak and come in late at night.</p>
+
+<p>"When Marse Jeff got behind wid his crop, he would hire slaves f'um
+other white folkses, mostly f'um Pa's marster, dat's how Pa come to know
+my Ma.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was 'bout a hunderd acres in our plantation countin' de woods and
+pastures. Dey had 'bout three or four acres fenced in wid pine poles in
+a plum orchard. Dat's whar dey kep' de calves.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was a jail at Watkinsville, but Marse Jeff never had none of his
+slaves put in no jail. He didn't have so many but what he could make 'em
+behave. I never seed no slaves sold, but I seed 'em in a wagon passin'
+by on deir way to de block. Marse Jeff said dey was takin' 'em a long
+ways off to sell 'em. Dat's why dey was a-ridin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Anna larned Ma her A.B.C's. She could read a little, but she never
+larned to write.</p>
+
+<p>"Slaves went to de white folkses church if dey went a t'all. I never
+could sing no tune. I'se lak my Ma; she warn't no singer. Dat's how come
+I can't tell you 'bout de songs what dey sung den. I 'members de fus'
+time I seed anybody die; I was 'bout eight years old, and I was twelve
+'fore I ever seed a funeral. No Ma'am, us chilluns
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.244241" id="v.043p.244241"></a>[241]</span>
+didn't go to no
+baptizin's&mdash;Ma went, but us didn't.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't none of Marse Jeff's Niggers run off to no North, but I heared
+of a Nigger what did on de place whar my Pa was at. De only thing I
+knowed what might a made him run to de North was dat Niggers thought if
+dey got dar dey would be in Heb'en. Dem patterollers was somepin' else.
+I heared folkses say dey would beat de daylights mos' out of you if dey
+cotched you widout no pass. Us lived on de big road, and I seed 'em
+passin' mos' anytime. I mos' know dere was plenty trouble twixt de
+Niggers and de white folkses. Course I never heared tell of none, but
+I'm sho' dere was trouble jus' de same," he slyly remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Jeff wukked dem few Niggers so hard dat when dey got to deir
+cabins at night dey was glad to jus' rest. Dey all knocked off f'um wuk
+Sadday at 12 o'clock. De 'omans washed, patched, and cleaned up de
+cabins, and de mens wukked in dey own cotton patches what Marse Jeff
+give 'em. Some Niggers wouldn't have no cotton patch 'cause dey was too
+lazy to wuk. But dey was all of 'em right dar Sadday nights when de
+frolickin' and dancin' was gwine on. On Sundays dey laid 'round and
+slep'. Some went to church if dey wanted to. Marster give 'em a pass to
+keep patterollers f'um beatin' 'em when dey went to church.</p>
+
+<p>"Us chilluns was glad to see Chris'mas time come 'cause us had plenty to
+eat den; sich as hogshead, backbones, a heap of cake, and a little
+candy. Us had apples what had been growed on de place and stored away
+special for Chris'mas. Marse Jeff bought some
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.245242" id="v.043p.245242"></a>[242]</span>
+lallahoe, dat was syrup,
+and had big old pones of lightbread baked for us to sop it up wid. What
+us laked best 'bout Chris'mas was de good old hunk of cheese dey give us
+den and de groundpeas. Don't you know what groundpeas is? Dem's goobers
+(peanuts). Such a good time us did have, a-parchin' and a-eatin' dem
+groundpeas! If dere was oranges us didn't git none. Marse Jeff give de
+grown folkses plenty of liquor and dey got drunk and cut de buck whilst
+it lasted. New Year's Day was de time to git back to wuk.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Jeff was sich a pore man he didn't have no corn shuckin's on his
+place, but he let his Niggers go off to 'em and he went along hisself.
+Dey had a big time a-hollerin' and singin' and shuckin' corn. Atter de
+shuckin' was all done dere was plenty to eat and drink&mdash;nothin' short
+'bout dem corn shuckin's.</p>
+
+<p>"When slaves got sick, dey didn't have no doctor dat I knowed 'bout.
+Miss Carrie done de doctorin' herself. Snake root tea was good for colds
+and stomach mis'ries. Dey biled rabbit tobacco, pine tops, and mullein
+together; tuk de tea and mixed it wid 'lasses; and give it to us for
+diffunt ailments. If dey done dat now, folkses would live longer. Ma put
+asafiddy (asafetida) sacks 'round our necks to keep off sickness.</p>
+
+<p>"Ma said us was gwine to be free. Marse Jeff said us warn't, and he
+didn't tell us no diffunt 'til 'bout Chris'mas atter de War was done
+over wid in April. He told us dat us was free, but he wanted us to stay
+on wid him, and didn't none of his Niggers leave him. Dey all wukked de
+same as dey had before dey was sot free only he paid 'em wages atter de
+War.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.246243" id="v.043p.246243"></a>[243]</span>
+
+<p>"I 'members dem Yankees comin' down de big road a-stealin' as dey went
+'long. Dey swapped deir bags of bones for de white folkses good fat
+hosses. I never seed so many pore hosses at one time in my life as dey
+had. Dem Yankees stole all da meat, chickens, and good bedclothes and
+burnt down de houses. Dey done devilment aplenty as dey went 'long. I
+'members Marse Jeff put one of his colored mens on his hoss wid a
+coffeepot full of gold and sont him to de woods. Atter dem Yankees went
+on he sont for him to fetch back de gold and de fine hoss what he done
+saved f'um de sojer mens.</p>
+
+<p>"I heared tell of dem Ku Kluxers, but I never seed 'em. Lawsy Miss! What
+did Niggers have to buy land wid 'til atter dey wukked long enough for
+to make some money? Warn't no schoolin' done 'round whar us lived. I was
+10 years old 'fore I ever sot foots in a schoolhouse. De nearest school
+was at Shady Grove.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a long time atter de War 'fore I married. Us didn't have no
+weddin'; jus' got married. My old 'oman had on a calico dress&mdash;I
+disremembers what color. She looked good to me though. Us had 16
+chilluns in all; four died. I got 22 grandchillun and one great
+grandchild. None of 'em has jobs to brag 'bout; one of 'em larned to
+run a store.</p>
+
+<p>"I think Mr. Lincoln was a great man, 'cause he sot us free. When I
+thinks back, it warn't no good feelin' to be bound down lak dat. Mr.
+President Davis wanted us to stay bound down. No Ma'am, I didn't lak dat
+Mr. Davis atter I knowed what he stood for. 'Course dere is plenty what
+needs to be bound down hard and fast so dey won't git in no trouble. But
+for me I trys to behave myself, and I sho' had ruther be free. I guess
+atter all it's best dat slavery days is over. 'Bout dat Booker
+Washin'ton man, de Niggers what tuk him in said
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.247244" id="v.043p.247244"></a>[244]</span>
+he done lots of good for
+his race, and I reckon he did.</p>
+
+<p>"Somepin' 'nother jus' made me jine de church. I wanted to do better'n
+what I was doin'. De Lord says it's best for folkses to be 'ligious.</p>
+
+<p>"No Ma'am, I don't 'spect to live as long as my Ma lived, 'cause dese
+legs of mine since I done los' both of my footses wid blood pizen atter
+gangreen sot in, sho' gives me a passel of trouble. But de Lord is good
+to me and no tellin' how long I'se gwine to stay here. Miss, you sho'
+tuk me way back yonder, and I laks to talk 'bout it. Yes, Ma'am, dat's
+been a long time back."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.248245" id="v.043p.248245"></a>[245]</span>
+
+<a name="ShepherdRobert"></a>
+
+<h3>ROBERT SHEPHERD, Age 91<br />
+386 Arch Street<br />
+Athens, Georgia<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 &amp; 7</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.249246" id="v.043p.249246"></a>[246]</span>
+
+
+<p>Robert lives in a small house so old and in such bad repair that a
+strong wind would no doubt tumble it down. Large holes in the roof
+can be plainly seen from the gateway. The neat yard, filled with
+old-fashioned flowers, is enclosed by a makeshift fence of rusty wire
+sagging to the ground in places, and the gate rocks on one hinge. There
+was some evidence that a porch had extended across the front of the
+cottage, but it is entirely gone now and large rocks serve as steps at
+the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>Knocks and calls at the front of the house were unanswered and finally
+Robert was found working in his garden behind the house. He is a tiny
+old man, and his large sun hat made him seem smaller than he actually
+was. He wore a clean but faded blue shirt and shabby gray pants much too
+large for him. His shoes, bound to his feet with strips of cloth, were
+so much too large that it was all he could do to shuffle along. He
+removed his hat and revealed white hair that contrasted with his black
+face, as he smiled in a friendly way. "Good morning, Missy! How is you?"
+was his greeting. Despite his advanced age, he keeps his garden in
+excellent condition. Not a blade of grass was to be seen. Asked how he
+managed to keep it worked so efficiently he proudly answered: "Well
+Miss, I jus' wuks in it some evvy day dat comes 'cept Sundays and, when
+you keeps right up wid it dat way, it ain't so hard. Jus'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.250247" id="v.043p.250247"></a>[247]</span>
+look 'round
+you! Don't you see I got de bestest beans and squashes, 'round here, and
+down under dem 'tater vines, I kin tell you, dem roots is jus' full of
+'taters. My Old Marster done larnt me how to gyarden. He allus made us
+raise lots of gyarden sass such as: beans, peas, roas'in' ears,
+collards, turnip greens, and ingons (onions). For a fact, dere was jus'
+'bout all de kinds of veg'tables us knowed anything 'bout dem days right
+dar in our Marster's big old gyarden. Dere was big patches of 'taters,
+and in dem wheatfields us growed enough to make bread for all de folks
+on dat dere plantation. Us sho' did have plenty of mighty good somepin
+t'eat.</p>
+
+<p>"I would ax you to come in and set down in my house to talk," he said,
+"but I don't 'spect you could climb up dem dere rocks to my door, and
+dem's all de steps I got." When Robert called to his daughter, who lived
+next door, and told her to bring out some chairs, she suggested that the
+interview take place on her porch. "It's shady and cool on my porch,"
+she said, "and Pa's done been a-diggin' in his garden so long he's plum
+tuckered out; he needs to set down and rest." After making her father
+comfortable, she drew up a bucket of water from the well at the edge of
+the porch and, after he had indulged in a long drink of the fresh water,
+he began his story.</p>
+
+<p>"I was borned on Marster Joe Echols' plantation in Oglethorpe County,
+'bout 10 miles from Lexin'ton, Georgy. Mammy was Cynthia Echols 'fore
+she married up wid my daddy. He was Peyton Shepherd. Atter Pappy and
+Mammy got married, Old Marse Shepherd sold Pappy to Marse Joe Echols so
+as dey could stay together.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.251248" id="v.043p.251248"></a>[248]</span>
+
+<p>"Marse Joe, he had three plantations, but he didn't live on none of 'em.
+He lived in Lexin'ton. He kept a overseer on each one of his plantations
+and dey had better be good to his Niggers, or else Marse Joe would sho'
+git 'em 'way from dar. He never 'lowed 'em to wuk us too hard, and in
+bad or real cold weather us didn't have to do no outside wuk 'cept
+evvyday chores what had to be done, come rain or shine, lak milkin',
+tendin' de stock, fetchin' in wood, and things lak dat. He seed dat us
+had plenty of good somepin t'eat and all de clothes us needed. Us was
+lots better off in dem days dan us is now.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marster, he had so many Niggers dat he never knowed 'em all. One
+day he was a-ridin' 'long towards one of his plantations and he met one
+of his slaves, named William. Marse Joe stopped him and axed him who he
+was. William said: 'Why Marster, I'se your Nigger. Don't you know me?'
+Den Marster, he jus' laughed and said: 'Well, hurry on home when you
+gits what you is gwine atter.' He was in a good humor dat way most all
+de time. I kin see him now a-ridin' dat little hoss of his'n what he
+called Button, and his little fice dog hoppin' 'long on three legs right
+side of de hoss. No Ma'am, dere warn't nothin' de matter wid' dat little
+dog; walkin' on three legs was jus' his way of gittin' 'round.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster never let none of de slave chillun on his plantation do no wuk
+'til dey got fifteen&mdash;dat was soon 'nough, he said. On all of his
+plantations dere was one old 'oman dat didn't
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.252249" id="v.043p.252249"></a>[249]</span>
+have nothin' else to do
+but look atter and cook for de nigger chillun whilst dey mammies was at
+wuk in de fields. Aunt Viney tuk keer of us. She had a big old horn what
+she blowed when it was time for us to eat, and us knowed better dan to
+git so fur off us couldn't hear dat horn, for Aunt Viney would sho' tear
+us up. Marster had done told her she better fix us plenty t'eat and give
+it to us on time. Dere was a great long trough what went plum 'cross de
+yard, and dat was whar us et. For dinner us had peas or some other sort
+of veg'tables, and cornbread. Aunt Viney crumbled up dat bread in de
+trough and poured de veg'tables and pot-likker over it. Den she blowed
+de horn and chillun come a-runnin' from evvy which away. If us et it all
+up, she had to put more victuals in de trough. At nights, she crumbled
+de cornbread in de trough and poured buttermilk over it. Us never had
+nothin' but cornbread and buttermilk at night. Sometimes dat trough
+would be a sight, 'cause us never stopped to wash our hands, and 'fore
+us had been eatin' more dan a minute or two what was in de trough would
+look lak de red mud what had come off of our hands. Sometimes Aunt Viney
+would fuss at us and make us clean it out.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was a big sand bar down on de crick what made a fine place to
+play, and wadin' in de branches was lots of fun. Us frolicked up and
+down dem woods and had all sorts of good times&mdash;anything to keep away
+from Aunt Viney 'cause she was sho' to have us fetchin' in wood or
+sweepin' de yards if us was handy whar she could find us. If us was out
+of her sight she never bothered 'bout dem
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.253250" id="v.043p.253250"></a>[250]</span>
+yards and things. Us was
+skeered to answer dat horn when us got in Marster's 'bacco. He raised
+lots of 'bacco and rationed it out to mens, but he never 'lowed chillun
+to have none 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Us found out
+how to git in his 'bacco house and us kept on gittin' his 'bacco 'fore
+it was dried out 'til he missed it. Den he told Aunt Viney to blow dat
+horn and call up all de chillun. I'se gwine to whup evvy one of 'em, he
+would 'clare. Atter us got dere and he seed dat green 'bacco had done
+made us so sick us couldn't eat, he jus' couldn't beat us. He jus'
+laughed and said: 'It's good enough for you.'</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Martha, she done de milkin' and helped Aunt Nancy cook for de
+slaves. Dey had a big long kitchen up at de big house whar de overseer
+lived. De slaves what wuked in de field never had to do deir own
+cookin'. It was all done for 'em in dat big old kitchen. Dey cooked some
+of de victuals in big old washpots and dere was sho' a plenty for all.
+All de cookin' was done in big fireplaces what had racks made inside to
+hang pots on and dey had big old ovens for bakin', and thick iron
+skillets, and long-handled fryin' pans. You jus' can't 'magine how good
+things was cooked dat way on de open fire. Nobody never had no better
+hams and other meat dan our Marster kept in dem big old smokehouses, and
+his slaves had meat jus' lak white folks did. Dem cooks knowed dey had
+to cook a plenty and have it ready when it was time for de slaves to
+come in from de fields. Miss Ellen, she was the overseer's wife, went
+out in de kitchen and looked over evvything to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.254251" id="v.043p.254251"></a>[251]</span>
+see that it was all right
+and den she blowed de bugle. When de slaves heared dat bugle, dey come
+in a-singin' from de fields. Dey was happy 'cause dey knowed Miss Ellen
+had a good dinner ready for 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"De slave quarters was long rows of log cabins wid chimblies made out of
+sticks and red mud. Dem chimblies was all de time ketchin' fire. Dey
+didn't have no glass windows. For a window, dey jus' cut a openin' in a
+log and fixed a piece of plank 'cross it so it would slide when dey
+wanted to open or close it. Doors was made out of rough planks, beds was
+rough home-made frames nailed to de side of de cabins, and mattresses
+was coarse, home-wove ticks filled wid wheat straw. Dey had good
+home-made kivver. Dem beds slept mighty good.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere warn't many folks sick dem days, 'specially 'mongst de slaves.
+When one did die, folks would go 12 or 15 miles to de buryin'. Marster
+would say: 'Take de mules and wagons and go but, mind you, take good
+keer of dem mules.' He never seemed to keer if us went&mdash;fact was, he
+said us ought to go. If a slave died on our place, nobody went to de
+fields 'til atter de buryin'. Marster never let nobody be buried 'til
+dey had been dead 24 hours, and if dey had people from some other place,
+he waited 'til dey could git dar. He said it warn't right to hurry 'em
+off into de ground too quick atter dey died. Dere warn't no undertakers
+dem days. De homefolks jus' laid de corpse out on de coolin' board 'til
+de coffin was made. Lordy Miss! Ain't you never seed one of dem coolin'
+boards? A coolin' board
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.255252" id="v.043p.255252"></a>[252]</span>
+was made out of a long straight plank raised a
+little at de head, and had legs fixed to make it set straight. Dey wropt
+'oman corpses in windin' sheets. Uncle Squire, de man what done all de
+wagon wuk and buildin' on our place, made coffins. Dey was jus' plain
+wood boxes what dey painted to make 'em look nice. White preachers
+conducted de funerals, and most of de time our own Marster done it,
+'cause he was a preacher hisself. When de funeral was done preached, dey
+sung _Harps From De Tomb_, den dey put de coffin in a wagon and driv
+slow and keerful to de graveyard. De preacher prayed at de grave and de
+mourners sung, _I'se Born To Die and Lay Dis Body Down_. Dey never had
+no outside box for de coffin to be sot in, but dey put planks on top of
+de coffin 'fore dey started shovellin' in de dirt.</p>
+
+<p>"Fourth Sundays was our meetin' days, and evvybody went to church. Us
+went to our white folks' church and rid in a wagon 'hind deir car'iage.
+Dere was two Baptist preachers&mdash;one of 'em was Mr. John Gibson and de
+other was Mr. Patrick Butler. Marse Joe was a Methodist preacher
+hisself, but dey all went to de same church together. De Niggers sot in
+de gallery. When dey had done give de white folks de sacrament, dey
+called de Niggers down from de gallery and give dem sacrament too.
+Church days was sho' 'nough big meetin' days 'cause evvybody went. Dey
+preached three times a day; at eleven in de mornin', at three in de
+evenin', and den again at night. De biggest meetin' house crowds was
+when dey had baptizin', and dat was right often. Dey dammed up de crick
+on Sadday so as it would be deep enough on Sunday,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.256253" id="v.043p.256253"></a>[253]</span>
+and dey done de
+baptizin' 'fore dey preached de three o'clock sermon. At dem baptizin's
+dere was all sorts of shoutin', and dey would sing _Roll Jordan, Roll_,
+_De Livin' Waters_, and _Lord I'se Comin' Home_.</p>
+
+<p>"When de craps was laid by and most of de hardest wuk of de year done
+up, den was camp-meetin' time, 'long in de last of July and sometimes in
+August. Dat was when us had de biggest times of all. Dey had great big
+long tables and jus' evvything good t'eat. Marster would kill five or
+six hogs and have 'em carried dar to be barbecued, and he carried his
+own cooks along. Atter de white folks et dey fed de Niggers, and dere
+was allus a plenty for all. Marster sho' looked atter all his Niggers
+good at dem times. When de camp-meetin' was over, den come de big
+baptizin': white folks fust, den Niggers. One time dere was a old slave
+'oman what got so skeered when dey got her out in de crick dat somebody
+had to pull her foots out from under her to git her under de water. She
+got out from dar and testified dat it was de devil a-holdin' her back.</p>
+
+<p>"De white ladies had nice silk dresses to wear to church. Slave 'omans
+had new calico dresses what dey wore wid hoopskirts dey made out of
+grapevines. Dey wore poke bonnets wid ruffles on 'em and, if de weather
+was sort of cool, dey wore shawls. Marster allus wore his linen duster.
+Dat was his white coat, made cutaway style wid long tails. De cloth for
+most all of de clothes was made at home. Marse Joe raised lots of sheep
+and de wool was used to make cloth for de winter clothes. Us had a great
+long loom house whar some of de slaves didn't
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.257254" id="v.043p.257254"></a>[254]</span>
+do nothin' but weave
+cloth. Some cyarded bats, some done de spinnin', and dere was more of
+'em to do de sewin'. Miss Ellen, she looked atter all dat, and she cut
+out most of de clothes. She seed dat us had plenty to wear. Sometimes
+Marster would go to de sewin' house, and Mist'ess would tell him to git
+on 'way from dar and look atter his own wuk, dat her and Aunt Julia
+could run dat loom house. Marster, he jus' laughed den and told us
+chillun what was hangin' round de door to jus' listen to dem 'omans
+cackle. Oh, but he was a good old boss man.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had water buckets, called piggens, what was made out of cedar and
+had handles on de sides. Sometimes us sawed off little vinegar kegs and
+put handles on 'em. Us loved to drink out of gourds. Dere was lots of
+gourds raised evvy year. Some of 'em was so big dey was used to keep
+eggs in and for lots of things us uses baskets for now. Dem little
+gourds made fine dippers.</p>
+
+<p>"Dem cornshuckin's was sho' 'nough big times. When us got all de corn
+gathered up and put in great long piles, den de gittin' ready started.
+Why dem 'omans cooked for days, and de mens would git de shoats ready to
+barbecue. Marster would send us out to git de slaves from de farms
+'round about dar.</p>
+
+<p>"De place was all lit up wid light'ood-knot torches and bonfires, and
+dere was 'citement a-plenty when all de Niggers got to singin' and
+shoutin' as dey made de shucks fly. One of dem songs went somepin lak
+dis: 'Oh! my haid, my pore haid, Oh! my pore haid is 'fected.' Dere
+warn't nothin' wrong wid our haids&mdash;dat was jus' our
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.258255" id="v.043p.258255"></a>[255]</span>
+way of lettin' our
+overseer know us wanted some likker. Purty soon he would come 'round wid
+a big horn of whiskey, and dat made de 'pore haid' well, but it warn't
+long 'fore it got wuss again, and den us got another horn of whiskey.
+When de corn was all shucked den us et all us could and, let me tell
+you, dat was some good eatin's. Den us danced de rest of de night.</p>
+
+<p>"Next day when us all felt so tired and bad, Marster he would tell us
+'bout stayin' up all night, but Mist'ess tuk up for us, and dat tickled
+Old Marster. He jus' laughed and said: 'Will you listen to dat 'oman?'
+Den he would make some of us sing one of dem songs us had done been
+singin' to dance by. It goes sort of lak dis: 'Turn your pardner 'round!
+Steal 'round de corner, 'cause dem Johnson gals is hard to beat! Jus'
+glance 'round and have a good time! Dem gals is hard to find!' Dat's
+jus' 'bout all I can ricollect of it now.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had big 'possum hunts, and us sho' cotched a heap of 'em. De gals
+cooked 'em wid 'taters and dey jus' made your mouth water. I sho' wish I
+had one now. Rabbits was good too. Marster didn't 'low no huntin' wid
+guns, so us jus' took dogs when us went huntin'. Rabbits was kilt wid
+sticks and rocks 'cept when a big snow come. Dey was easy to track to
+dey beds den, and us could jus' reach in and pull 'em out. When us cotch
+'nough of 'em, us had big rabbit suppers.</p>
+
+<p>"De big war was 'bout over when dem yankees come by our place and jus'
+went through evvything. Dey called all de slaves together and told 'em
+dey was free and didn't b'long to nobody no more,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.259256" id="v.043p.259256"></a>[256]</span>
+and said de slaves
+could take all dey wanted from de smokehouses and barns and de big
+house, and could go when and whar dey wanted to go. Dey tried to hand us
+out all de meat and hams, but us told 'em us warn't hongry, 'cause
+Marster had allus done give us all us wanted. When dey couldn't make
+none of us take nothin', dey said it was de strangest thing dey had done
+ever seed, and dat dat man Echols must have sho' been good to his
+Niggers.</p>
+
+<p>"When dem yankees had done gone off Marster come out to our place. He
+blowed de bugle to call us all up to de house. He couldn't hardly talk,
+'cause somebody had done told him dat dem yankees couldn't talk his
+Niggers into stealin' nothin'. Marster said he never knowed 'fore how
+good us loved him. He told us he had done tried to be good to us and had
+done de best he could for us and dat he was mighty proud of de way evvy
+one of us had done 'haved ourselfs. He said dat de war was over now, and
+us was free and could go anywhar us wanted to, but dat us didn't have to
+go if us wanted to stay dar. He said he would pay us for our wuk and
+take keer of us if us stayed or, if us wanted to wuk on shares, he would
+'low us to wuk some land dat way. A few of dem Niggers drifted off, but
+most of 'em stayed right dar 'til dey died."</p>
+
+<p>A sad note had come into Robert's voice and he seemed to be almost
+overcome by the sorrow aroused by his reminiscences. His daughter was
+quick to perceive this and interrupted the conversation: "Please Lady,"
+she said. "Pa's too feeble to talk any more today. Can't
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.260257" id="v.043p.260257"></a>[257]</span>
+you let him
+rest now and come back again in a day or two? Maybe he will be done
+'membered things he couldn't call back today."</p>
+
+<p>The front door was open when Robert's house was next visited, and a
+young girl answered the knock. "Come in," she said. The little house was
+as dilapidated in the interior as it was on the outside. Bright June
+sunshine filtered through the many gaps in the roof arousing wonder as
+to how the old man managed to remain inside this house during heavy
+rains. The room was scrupulously clean and neat. In it was a very old
+iron bed, a dresser that was minus its mirror, two chairs, and a table,
+all very old and dilapidated. The girl laughed when she called attention
+to a closet that was padlocked. "Dat's whar Grandpa keeps his rations,"
+she said, and then volunteered the information: "He's gone next door to
+stay wid Ma, whilst I clean up his house. He can't stand no dust, and
+when I sweeps, I raises a dust." The girl explained a 12 inch square
+aperture in the door, with a sliding board fastened on the inside by
+saying: "Dat's Grandpa's peep-hole. He allus has to see who's dar 'fore
+he unfastens his door."</p>
+
+<p>Robert was sitting on the back porch and his daughter was ironing just
+inside the door. Both seemed surprised and happy to see the interviewer
+and the daughter placed a comfortable chair for her as far as the
+dimensions of the small porch would permit from the heat of the charcoal
+bucket and irons. Remembering that his earlier recollections had ended
+with the close of the Civil War, Robert started telling about the days
+"atter freedom had done come."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.261258" id="v.043p.261258"></a>[258]</span>
+
+<p>"Me, I stayed right on dar 'til atter Marster died. He was sick a long,
+long time, and one morning Old Mist'ess, she called to me. 'Robert,' she
+said, 'you ain't gwine to have no Marster long, 'cause he's 'bout gone.'
+I called all de Niggers up to de big house and when dey was all in de
+yard, Mist'ess, she said: 'Robert, you been wid us so long, you kin come
+in and see him 'fore he's gone for good.' When I got in dat room I
+knowed de Lord had done laid His hand on my good Old Marster, and he was
+a-goin' to dat Home he used to preach to us Niggers 'bout, and it
+'peared to me lak my heart would jus' bust. When de last breath was done
+gone, I went back out in de yard and told de other Niggers, and dere was
+sho' cryin' and prayin' 'mongst 'em, 'cause all of 'em loved Marster.
+Dat was sho' one big funeral. Mist'ess said she wanted all of Marster's
+old slaves to go, 'cause he loved 'em so, and all of us went. Some what
+had done been gone for years come back for Marster's funeral.</p>
+
+<p>"Next day, atter de funeral was over, Mist'ess, she said: 'Robert, I
+want you to stay on wid me 'cause you know how he wanted his wuk done.'
+Den Mist'ess' daughter and her husband, Mr. Dickenson, come dar to stay.
+None of de Niggers laked dat Mr. Dickenson and so most of 'em left and
+den, 'bout 2 years atter Marster died, Mist'ess went to 'Lanta (Atlanta)
+to stay wid another of her daughters, and she died dar. When Mist'ess
+left, I left too and come on here to Athens, and I been here ever since.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.262259" id="v.043p.220259"></a>[259]</span>
+
+<p>"Dere warn't much town here den, and 'most all 'round dis here place was
+woods. I wuked 'bout a year for Mr. John McCune's fambly on de old
+Pitner place, den I went to wuk for Mr. Manassas B. McGinty. He was a
+cyarpenter and built most of de fine houses what was put up here dem
+days. I got de lumber from him to build my house. Dere warn't but two
+other houses 'round here den. My wife, Julie, washed for de white folks
+and helped 'em do deir housewuk. Our chillun used to come bring my
+dinner. Us had dem good old red peas cooked wid side meat in a pot in de
+fireplace, and ashcake to go wid 'em. Dat was eatin's. Julie would rake
+out dem coals and kivver 'em wid ashes, and den she would wrop a pone of
+cornbread dough in collard or cabbage leaves and put it on dem ashes and
+rake more ashes over it. You had to dust off de bread 'fore you et it,
+but ashcake was mighty good, folks what lived off of it didn't git sick
+lak dey does now a-eatin' dis white flour bread all de time. If us had
+any peas left from dinner and supper, Julie would mash 'em up right
+soft, make little cakes what she rolled in corn meal, and fry 'em for
+breakfast. Dem sausage cakes made out of left-over peas was mighty fine
+for breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>"When de chillun started out wid my dinner, Julie allus made two of 'em
+go together and hold hands all de way so dey wouldn't git lost. Now,
+little chillun jus' a few years old goes anywhar dey wants to. Folks
+don't look atter dey chillun lak dey ought to, and t'ain't right. Den,
+when night come, chillun went right off to bed. Now, dey jus' runs
+'round 'most all night, and it sho' is
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.263260" id="v.043p.263260"></a>[260]</span>
+a-ruinin' dis young genrayshun
+(generation). Dey don't take no keer of deirselfs. My own grandchillun
+is de same way.</p>
+
+<p>"I left Mr. McGinty and went to wuk for Mr. Bloomfield in de mill. Mr.
+Bill Dootson was our boss, and he was sho' a good man. Dem was good
+times. I wuked inside de mill and 'round de yard too, and sometimes dey
+sont me to ride de boat wid de cotton or sometimes wid cloth, whatever
+dey was sendin'. Dere was two mills den. One was down below de bridge on
+Oconee Street, and de old check factory was t'other side of de bridge on
+Broad Street. Dey used boats to carry de cotton and de cloth from one
+mill to de other.</p>
+
+<p>"Missy, can you b'lieve it? I wuked for 68&cent; a day and us paid for our
+home here. Dey paid us off wid tickets what us tuk to de commissary to
+git what us needed. Dey kept jus' evvything dat anybody could want down
+dar at de comp'ny store. So us raised our nine chillun, give 'em plenty
+to eat and wear too and a good roof over deir haids, all on 68&cent; a day
+and what Julie could make wukin' for de white folks. 'Course things
+warn't high-priced lak dey is now, but de main diff'unce is dat folks
+didn't have to have so many kinds of things to eat and wear den lak dey
+does now. Dere warn't nigh so many ways to throw money 'way den.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere warn't so many places to go; jus' church and church spreads, and
+Sundays, folks went buggy ridin'. De young Niggers, 'specially dem what
+was a-sparkin', used to rent buggies and hosses
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.264261" id="v.043p.264261"></a>[261]</span>
+from Mr. Selig
+Bernstein. He kept a big livery stable den and he had a hoss named
+Buckskin. Dat was de hoss what evvybody wanted 'cause he was so gentle
+and didn't skeer de 'omans and chilluns. Mr. Bernstein is a-livin' yit,
+and he is sho' a good man to do business wid. Missy, dere was lots of
+good white folks den. Most of dem old ones is done passed on. One of de
+best of 'em was Mr. Robert Chappell. He done passed on, but whilst he
+lived he was mighty good to evvybody and de colored folks sho' does miss
+him. He b'lieved in helpin' 'em and he give 'em several churches and
+tried his best to git 'em to live right. If Mr. Robert Chappell ain't in
+Heb'en, dere ain't no use for nobody else to try to git dar. His
+granddaughter married Jedge Matthews, and folks says she is most as good
+as her granddaddy was."</p>
+
+<p>Robert chuckled when he was asked to tell about his wedding. "Miss," he
+said, "I didn't have no sho' 'nough weddin'. Me and Julie jus' jumped
+over de broom in front of Marster and us was married. Dat was all dere
+was to it. Dat was de way most of de slave folks got married dem days.
+Us knowed better dan to ax de gal when us wanted to git married. Us jus'
+told our Marster and he done de axin'. Den, if it was all right wid de
+gal, Marster called all de other Niggers up to de big house to see us
+jump over de broom. If a slave wanted to git married to somebody on
+another place, den he told Marster and his Marster would talk to de
+gal's Marster. Whatever dey 'greed on was all right. If neither one of
+'em would sell one of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.265262" id="v.043p.265262"></a>[262]</span>
+de slaves what wanted to git married, den dey let
+'em go ahead and jump over de broom, and de man jus' visited his wife on
+her Marster's place, mostly on Wednesday and Sadday nights. If it was a
+long piece off, he didn't git dar so often. Dey had to have passes den,
+'cause de patterollers would git 'em sho' if dey didn't. Dat meant a
+thrashin', and dey didn't miss layin' on de stick, when dey cotch a
+Nigger.</p>
+
+<p>"Dese days, de boys and gals jus' walks off and don't say nothin' to
+nobody, not even to dey mammies and daddies. [TR: written in margin:
+"Elopement"] Now take dis daughter of mine&mdash;Callie is her name&mdash;she
+runned away when she was 'bout seventeen. Dat day her mammy had done
+sont her wid de white folks' clothes. She had on brass-toed brogan
+shoes, a old faded cotton dress dat was plum up to her knees,&mdash;dem days,
+long dresses was stylish&mdash;and she wore a old bonnet. She was totin' de
+clothes to Mrs. Reese and met up wid dat Davenport boy. Dey traips'd up
+to de courthouse, got a license, and was married 'fore me and Julie
+knowed nothin' 'bout it. Julie sho' did light out from hyar to go git
+Callie. She brung her back and kept her locked up in de house a long
+time 'fore she would let her live wid dat Nigger.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had our troubles den, but dey warn't lak de troubles us has now.
+Now, it seems lak dem was mighty good days back when Arch Street was
+jus' a path through de woods. Julie, she's done been gone a long time,
+and all of our chillun's daid 'cept three, and two of 'em
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.266263" id="v.043p.266263"></a>[263]</span>
+is done gone
+up north. Jus' me and my Callie and de grandchillun is all dat's left
+here. Soon I'se gwine to be 'lowed to go whar Julie is and I'se ready
+any time, 'cause I done been here long 'nough."</p>
+
+<p>When the visitor arose to take her departure Robert said: "Good-bye
+Missy, come back to see me and Callie again 'cause us laked your
+'pearments (appearance) de fust time you was here. Jus' trust in de
+Lord, Miss, and He will take keer of you wharever you is."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.267264" id="v.043p.267264"></a>[264]</span>
+
+<a name="SingletonTom"></a>
+
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE, AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE<br />
+<br />
+TOM SINGLETON, Ex-Slave, Age 94<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Sadie B. Hornsby<br />
+Research Worker<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Edited by:<br />
+Leila Harris<br />
+Editor<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Augusta, Georgia<br />
+[Date Stamp: APR 27 1938]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.268265" id="v.043p.268265"></a>[265]</span>
+
+
+<p>Uncle Tom lives alone in a one room cabin, about two and one half miles
+from town, on Loop-de-Loop road, not far from the Brooklyn section of
+Athens. He states that he lives alone because: "I wuz raised right and
+de Niggers dis day and time ain't had no raisin'. I just can't be
+bothered wid havin' 'em 'round me all de time. Dey ain't my sort of
+folkses." Uncle Tom says he will be 94 years old on May 15th of this
+year, but many believe that he is much older.</p>
+
+<p>When asked if he felt like talking about his experiences and observances
+while he was a slave, he said: "I don't know, Missie; I got a pow'ful
+hurtin' in my chest, and I'm too old to 'member much, but you ax me what
+you want to know and I'll try to tell you. I wuz born in Lumpkin County
+on Marster Joe Singleton's place. My ma wuz named Nancy Early, and she
+belonged to Marster Joe Early what lived in Jackson County. My pa's name
+wuz Joe Singleton. I don't 'member much 'bout my brothers and sisters.
+Ma and Pa had 14 chillun. Some of deir boys wuz me and Isaac, Jeff,
+Moses, and Jack; and deir gals wuz: Celia, Laura, Dilsey, Patsey,
+Frankie, and Elinor. Dese wuz de youngest chillun. I don't 'member de
+fust ones. I don't ricollect nothin' t'all 'bout my grandma and grandpa,
+cause us wuz too busy to talk in de daytime, and at night us wuz so
+whupped out from hard wuk us just went off to sleep early and never
+talked much
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.269266" id="v.043p.269266"></a>[266]</span>
+at no time. All I knows 'bout 'em is dat I heared folkses
+say my gran'pa wuz 107 years old when he died. Folkses don't live dat
+long now-a-days.</p>
+
+<p>"De slave quarters wuz in rows and had two rooms and a shed. Dey had
+beds made out of poles fastened together wid pegs and 'cross 'em wuz
+laid de slats what dey spread de wheat straw on. Us had good kivver
+'cause our Marster wuz a rich man and he believed in takin' keer of his
+Niggers. Some put sheets dat wuz white as snow over de straw. Dem sheets
+wuz biled wid home-made soap what kept 'em white lak dat. Udder folkses
+put quilts over de straw. At de end of de slave quarters wuz de barns
+and cow sheds, and a little beyond dem wuz de finest pasture you ever
+seed wid clear water a-bubblin' out of a pretty spring, and runnin'
+thoo' it. Dar's whar dey turned de stock to graze when dey warn't
+wukkin' 'em."</p>
+
+<p>When Tom was asked if he ever made any money, a mischievous smile
+illumined his face. "Yes ma'am, you see I plowed durin' de day on old
+Marster's farm. Some of de white folks what didn't have many Niggers
+would ax old Marster to let us help on dey places. Us had to do dat wuk
+at night. On bright moonshiny nights, I would cut wood, fix fences, and
+sich lak for 'em. Wid de money dey paid me I bought Sunday shoes and a
+Sunday coat and sich lak, cause I wuz a Nigger what always did lak to
+look good on Sunday.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.270267" id="v.043p.270267"></a>[267]</span>
+
+<p>"Yes ma'am, us had good clo'es de year 'round. Our summer clothes wuz
+white, white as snow. Old Marster said dey looked lak linen. In winter
+us wore heavy yarn what de women made on de looms. One strand wuz wool
+and one wuz cotton. Us wore our brogan shoes evvy day and Sunday too.
+Marster wuz a merchant and bought shoes from de tanyard. Howsomever, he
+had a colored man on his place what could make any kind of shoes.</p>
+
+<p>"Lawdy! Missie, us had evvythin' to eat; all kinds of greens, turnips,
+peas, 'tatoes, meat and chickens. Us wuz plumb fools 'bout fried chicken
+and chicken stew, so Marster 'lowed us to raise plenty of chickens, and
+sometimes at night us Niggers would git together and have a hee old
+time. No Ma'am, us didn't have no gyardens. Us didn't need none. Old
+Marster give us all de vittuls us wanted. Missie, you oughta seed dem
+big old iron spiders what dey cooked in. 'Course de white folkses called
+'em ovens. De biscuits and blackberry pies dey cooked in spiders, dey
+wuz somethin' else. Oh! don't talk 'bout dem 'possums! Makes me hongry
+just to think 'bout 'em. One night when pa and me went 'possum huntin',
+I put a 'possum what us cotched in a sack and flung it 'cross my back.
+Atter us started home dat 'possum chewed a hole in de sack and bit me
+square in de back. I 'member my pa had a little dog." Here he stopped
+talking and called a little black and white dog to him, and said: "He
+wuz
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.271268" id="v.043p.271268"></a>[268]</span>
+'bout de size of dis here dog, and pa said he could natchelly
+jus' make a 'possum de way he always found one so quick when us
+went huntin'." The old man sighed, and looking out across the field,
+continued: "Atter slav'ry days, Niggers turned dey chilluns loose,
+an' den de 'possums an' rabbits most all left, and dere ain't so many
+fishes left in de rivers neither."</p>
+
+<p>Tom could not recall much about his first master: "I wuz four year old
+when Marster Dr. Joe Singleton died. All I 'members 'bout him; he wuz a
+big man, and I sho' wuz skeered of him. When he cotch us in de branch,
+he would holler at us and say: 'Come out of dar 'fore you git sick.' He
+didn't 'low us to play in no water, and when, he hollered, us lit a rag.
+Dere wuz 'bout a thousand acres in Marse Joe's plantation, he owned a
+gold mine and a copper mine too. Old Marster owned 'bout 65 Niggers in
+all. He bought an' sold Niggers too. When Old Marster wanted to send
+news, he put a Nigger on a mule an' sont de message.</p>
+
+<p>"Atter Marse Joe died, old Mist'ess run de farm 'bout six years.
+Mist'ess' daughter, Miss Mattie, married Marster Fred Lucas, an' old
+Mist'ess sold her share in de plantation den. My pa, my sister, an' me
+wuz sold on de block at de sheriff's sale. Durin' de sale my sister
+cried all de time, an' Pa rubbed his han' over her head an' face, an' he
+said: 'Don't cry, you is gwine live wid young Miss Mattie.' I didn't cry
+none, 'cause I didn't care.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.272269" id="v.043p.272269"></a>[269]</span>
+Marse Fred bought us, an' tuk us to Athens
+to live, an' old Mist'ess went to live wid her chilluns.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Fred didn't have a very big plantation; jus' 'bout 70 or 80 acres
+I guess, an' he had 'bout 25 Niggers. He didn't have no overseer. My pa
+wuz de one in charge, an' he tuk his orders from Marse Fred, den he went
+out to de farm, whar he seed dat de Niggers carried 'em out. Pa wuz de
+carriage driver too. It wuz his delight to drive for Marster and
+Mist'ess.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster and Mist'ess had eight chillun: Miss Mattie, Miss Mary, Miss
+Fannie, Miss Senie, Mr. Dave, Mr. Joe, Mr. Frank and Mr. Freddy. Dey
+lived in a big house, weather-boarded over logs, an' de inside wuz
+ceiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster an' Mist'ess sho' wuz good to us Niggers. Us warn't beat much.
+De onliest Nigger I 'member dey whupped wuz Cicero. He wuz a bad boy. My
+Marster never did whup me but onct. Mist'ess sont me up town to fetch
+her a spool of thread. I got to playin' marbles an' 'fore I knowed it,
+it wuz dinner time. When I got home, Mist'ess wuz mad sno' 'nough.
+Marster cotch me an' wore me out, but Mist'ess never touched me. I seed
+Niggers in de big jail at Watkinsville an' in de calaboose in Athens.
+Yes Ma'am! I seed plenty of Niggers sold on de block in Watkinsville. I
+ricollects de price of one Nigger run up to $15,000. All de sellin' wuz
+done by de sheriffs an' de slave Marsters.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster Fred Lucas sold his place whar he wuz livin' in town to Major
+Cook, an' moved to his farm near Princeton Factory.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.273270" id="v.043p.273270"></a>[270]</span>
+Atter Major Cook got
+kilt in de War, Marse Fred come back to town an' lived in his house
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for Niggers in slav'ry time. Mist'ess'
+daughters went to Lucy Cobb. Celia, my sister, wuz deir nurse, an' when
+all our little missies got grown, Celia wuz de house gal. So when our
+little missies went to school dey come home an' larnt Celia how to read
+an' write. 'Bout two years atter freedom, she begun to teach school
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had our own churches in town, an' de white folkses furnished our
+preachers. Once dey baptised 75 in de river below de Check Factory;
+white folkses fust, and Niggers last.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! dem patterrollers! Dey wuz rough mens. I heared 'em say dey would
+beat de stuffin' out of you, if dey cotch you widout no pass.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes Ma'am! dar always wuz a little trouble twixt de white folkses an'
+Niggers; always a little. Heaps of de Niggers went Nawth. I wuz told
+some white men's livin' in town hyar helped 'em git away. My wife had
+six of 'er kinfolkses what got clean back to Africa, an' dey wrote back
+here from dar.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had parties an' dances at night. Sometimes Mist'ess let Celia wear
+some of de little missies' clo'es, 'cause she wanted her to outshine de
+other Nigger gals. Dey give us a week at Christmas time, an' Christmas
+day wuz a big day. Dey give us most evvythin': a knot of candy as big as
+my fist, an' heaps of other good
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.274271" id="v.043p.274271"></a>[271]</span>
+things. At corn shuckin's Old Marster
+fotched a gallon keg of whiskey to de quarters an' passed it 'round.
+Some just got tipsy an' some got low down drunk. De onliest cotton
+pickin' us knowed 'bout wuz when us picked in de daytime, an' dey warn't
+no good time to dat. A Nigger can't even sing much wid his head all bent
+down pickin' cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"Folkses had fine times at weddin's dem days. Dar wuz more vittuls dan
+us could eat. Now dey just han' out a little somethin'. De white folkses
+had a fine time too. Dey let de Niggers git married in deir houses. If
+it wuz bad weather, den de weddin' wuz most genully in de hall, but if
+it wuz a pretty day, dey married in de yard.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't 'member much 'bout de games us played or de songs us sung. A
+few of de games wuz marbles, football, an' town ball. 'Bout dem witches,
+I don't know nothin'. Some of de folkses wore a mole foot 'roun' dey
+neck to keep bad luck away: some wore a rabbit's foot fer sharpness, an'
+it sholy did fetch sharpness. I don't know nothin' 'tall 'bout Rawhead
+and Bloody Bones, but I heared tell he got atter Mist'ess' chillun an'
+made 'em be good. Dey wuz pow'ful skeert of 'im.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marster an' Mist'ess looked atter deir Niggers mighty well. When
+dey got sick, de doctor wuz sont for straight away. Yes Ma'am, dey
+looked atter 'em mighty well. Holly leaves an' holly root biled together
+wuz good for indigestion, an' blackgum an' blackhaw roots biled together
+an' strained out an' mixed wid
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.275272" id="v.043p.275272"></a>[272]</span>
+whiskey wuz good for diffunt mis'ries.
+Some of de Niggers wore little tar sacks 'roun' dey necks to keep de
+fever 'way.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes Ma'am.' I wuz in de War 'bout two years, wid young Marster Joe
+Lucas. I waited on him, cooked for him, an' went on de scout march wid
+him, for to tote his gun, an' see atter his needs. I wuz a bugger in dem
+days!</p>
+
+<p>"I 'members I wuz standin' on de corner of Jackson Street when dey said
+freedom had come. Dat sho' wuz a rally day for de Niggers. 'Bout a
+thousand in all wuz standin' 'roun' here in Athens dat day. Yes Ma'am,
+de fust time de yankees come thoo' dey robbed an' stole all dey could
+find an' went on to Monroe. Next to come wuz de gyards to take charge of
+de town, an' dey wuz s'posed to set things to goin' right.</p>
+
+<p>"Atter de War I stayed on wid Marse Fred, an' wukked for wages for six
+years, an' den farmed on halves wid him. Some of de Niggers went on a
+buyin' spree, an' dey bought land, hand over fist. Some bought eight an'
+nine hundred acres at a time."</p>
+
+<p>When asked to tell about his wedding, a merry twinkle shone in his eyes:
+"Lawdy, Missie, dis ole Nigger nebber married 'til long atter de War. Us
+sho' did cut up jack. Us wuz too old to have any chillun, but us wuz so
+gay, us went to evvy dance 'til 'bout six years ago. She died den, an'
+lef' me all by myse'f.</p>
+
+<p>"Dat Mr. Abyham Lincoln wuz a reg'lar Nigger god. Us
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.276273" id="v.043p.276273"></a>[273]</span>
+b'lieved dat Mr.
+Jeff. Davis wuz all right too. Booker Washin'ton give a speech here
+onct, an' I wuz dar, but de Niggers made sich a fuss over him I couldn't
+take in what he said."</p>
+
+<p>Asked what he thinks about slavery, now that it is over, he replied: "I
+think it is all right. God intended it. De white folks run de Injuns
+out, but dey is comin' back for sho'. God said every nation shall go to
+deir own land 'fore de end.</p>
+
+<p>"I just jined de church right lately. I had cut de buck when I wuz a
+young chap, and God has promised us two places, heb'en an' hell. I
+thinks it would be scand'lous for anybody to go to hell, so I 'cided to
+jine up wid de crowd goin' to heb'en."</p>
+
+<p>After the interview, he called to a little Negro boy that had wandered
+into the house: "Moses! gimme a drink of water! Fotch me a chaw of
+'bacco, Missie done tuck me up de crick, down de branch, now she's a
+gwine 'roun'. Hurry! boy, do as I say, gimme dat water. Nigger chillun,
+dis day an' time, is too lazy to earn deir bread. I wuz sorry to see you
+come, Missie 'cause my chest wuz a hurtin' so bad, but now I'se sorry to
+see you go." Out of breath, he was silent for a moment, then grinned and
+said: "I wuz just lookin' at de Injun on dis here nickle, you done
+gimme. He looks so happy! Good-bye, Missie, hurry an' come back! You
+helped dis old Nigger lots, but my chest sho' do hurt."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.277274" id="v.043p.277274"></a>[274]</span>
+
+<a name="SmithCharlieTye"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 6<br />
+Ex slave 100]<br />
+<br />
+Mary A. Crawford<br />
+Re-search Worker<br />
+<br />
+CHARLIE TYE SMITH, Ex-slave<br />
+East Solomon Avenue,<br />
+Griffin, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+September 16, 1936<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>Charlie Tye Smith was born in Henry County, near Locust Grove, Georgia,
+on June 10, 1850 (as nearly as he can tell). His mother kept his age for
+him and had him tell it to her over and over when he was a little boy.
+The old fellow is well and rather alert, despite his eighty-six years.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jim Smith, of Henry County, was Charlie's owner and according to
+Charlie's version, "sho wuz a mighty good Marster". Mr. Smith owned a
+large plantation, and also "around one hundred and fifty, to two hundred
+Darkies". Charlie recalls that the slaves were well treated, seldom
+"whupped", and never "onmercifully". "Ole Miss", too, [HW: was]
+"powerful good" to the darkies, most especially to the "Chillun."</p>
+
+<p>The old man related the following incident in proof of Miss Nancy's
+goodness. About every two weeks "ole Miss" would have "ole Uncle Jim"
+bake "a whole passel of ginger cakes and tote 'em down to the cabins and
+jest pitch 'em out by de handfuls to de chillun!" The old man smiled
+broadly as he concluded the ginger cake story and said, "Charlie allus
+got his share. Miss Nancy seed to that, kase I wuz one of ole Miss's
+best little darkies". The interviewer inquired as to how so many ginger
+cakes could have been baked so
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.278275" id="v.043p.278275"></a>[275]</span>
+easily, and he replied that "ole Marse"
+had a big rock-oven down at the spring about like what they boil syrup
+cane juice in today.</p>
+
+<p>The slaves on "Marse Jim's" place were allowed about four holidays a
+year, and a week at Christmas, to frolic. The amusements were dancing
+("the break-down"), banjo playing, and quill blowing. Sometimes when the
+"patarol" was in a good humor, he would take about twenty-five or thirty
+"Niggers" and go fishing at night. This kind of fishing was mostly
+seining, and usually "they got plenty o' fish".</p>
+
+<p>Charlie, true to his race, is quite superstitious and on many occasions
+"went into the cow lot on Christmas night and found the cows down on
+their knees 'a-lowin". He also witnessed the "sun shoutin" on Christmas
+morning and "made sho" to get up jest in time to see the sun as it first
+"showed itself." Here Charlie did some very special gesticulating to
+illustrate.</p>
+
+<p>The Negroes were required to go to Church on Sunday. They called it
+"gwine to meetin'", often leaving at sun up and walking ten or twelve
+miles to the meeting house, staying all day and late into the night.</p>
+
+<p>If "ole Marse" happened to be in a good humor on Sunday, he would let
+the Darkies use the "waggins" and mules. The little
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.279276" id="v.043p.279276"></a>[276]</span>
+"Niggers" never went
+to meetin' as they were left at home to take care of the house and
+"nuss" the babies. There were no Sunday Schools in those days. When the
+grown folks got back late in the night, they often "had to do some tall
+knocking and banging to get in the house&mdash;'cause the chillun were so
+dead asleep, and layin' all over the floor".</p>
+
+<p>When asked if the slaves wouldn't be awfully tired and sleepy the next
+morning after they stayed up so late, he replied that they were "sho
+tired" but they had better turn out at four o'clock when ole Marse
+"blowed the horn!" They [TR: then?] he added with a chuckle, "the
+field was usually strowed with Niggers asleep in the cotton rows when
+they knocked off for dinner".</p>
+
+<p>"No, Miss, the Marster never give us no money (here he laughed), for we
+didn't need none. There wasn't nothing to buy, and we had plenty to eat
+and wear".</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. Jim and Miss Nancy believed in whuppin' and kep the raw hide
+hanging by the back door, but none o' Mr. Jim's Niggers evah got beat
+till dey bled".</p>
+
+<p>Charlie Tye recalls vividly when the Yankees passed through and
+graphically related the following incident. "The Yankees passed through
+and caught "ole Marse" Jim and made him pull off his boots and run
+bare-footed through a cane brake with half a bushel of potatoes tied
+around his neck; then they made him
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.280277" id="v.043p.280277"></a>[277]</span>
+put his boots back on and carried
+him down to the mill and tied him to the water post. They were getting
+ready to break his neck when one of Master's slaves, "ole Peter Smith",
+asked them if they intended to kill "Marse Jim", and when they said
+"Yes", Peter choked up and said, "Well, please, suh, let me die wid ole
+Marse! Well, dem Yankees let ole Marse loose and left! Yes, Missy, dat's
+de truf 'case I've heered my daddy tell it many's the time!"</p>
+
+<p>Charlie is not working at all now as he is too old and is supported by
+the Griffin Relief Association. For forty-five years he served as
+janitor in the various public schools of Griffin.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.281278" id="v.043p.281278"></a>[278]</span>
+
+<a name="SmithGeorgia"></a>
+
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE, AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE<br />
+<br />
+GEORGIA SMITH, Age 87<br />
+286 Augusta Ave.<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Miss Grace McCune<br />
+Research Worker<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Edited by:<br />
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall<br />
+Editor<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+WPA Residency No. 6<br />
+April 6, 1938</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.282279" id="v.043p.282279"></a>[279]</span>
+
+
+<p>The cold, rainy, and altogether disagreeable weather on the outside was
+soon forgotten when the interviewer was admitted to the neat little home
+of Aunt Georgia Smith and found the old woman enjoying the cheerful
+warmth of her blazing fire.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Georgia appeared to be quite feeble. She was not only willing, but
+eager to talk of her experiences, and explained that her slow and rather
+indistinct articulation is one of the several bad after effects of her
+recent stroke of paralysis.</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy was Blackstone Smith, and he b'longed to Marse Jeb Smith. My
+mammy was Nancy Chappell, owned by Mistus Peggie Chappell.</p>
+
+<p>"I stayed wid my mammy on Mistus Chappell's plantation in Oglethorpe
+County, near old Antioch Church. W'en I was 'bout five or six years ole
+my mammy died. Den my pappy done come an' got me, an' I was to stay wid
+'im on Marster Smith's place. Dey was good to me dar, but I warn't
+satisfied, an' I cried for Old Mistus.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd jes' go 'roun' snifflin', an' not eatin' nuffin', an' one day w'en
+us was pickin' peaches, Marster Smith tole my pappy he better take dat
+chile back to her old mistus, 'fo' she done git sick fer sho'.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.283280" id="v.043p.283280"></a>[280]</span>
+
+<p>"Hit was de next day w'en dey ax me did I want to see Old Mistus an' I
+jes' cry an' say, 'yassum.' Den Marster say: 'Blackstone, hitch a mule
+to dat wagon, an' take dat chile right back to her Old Mistus.' I tell
+'em I can walk, but dey made me ride in de wagon, an' I sho' was glad I
+was goin' back home.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed Old Mistus 'fo' I got dar, an' jumped out of de wagon an' run to
+'er. W'en she seed me, she jes' grabbed me, an' I thought she was a
+laughin', but when I seed dat she was cryin', I tole 'er not to cry, dat
+I warn't goin' to leave 'er no mo'.</p>
+
+<p>"Mistus sho' was good to me, but she was good to all 'er niggers, an'
+dey all loved 'er. Us allus had plenny of evvything, she made us wear
+plenny of good warm clo'es, an' us wo'e flannel petticoats when hit was
+cole weather. Chillun don't wear 'nuff clo'es dese days to keep 'em
+warm, an nuffin' on deir legs. Hits a wonder dey doan' freeze.</p>
+
+<p>"I diden' stay at de quarters with de udder niggers. Mistus kep' me in
+de big 'ouse wid 'er, an' I slep' on a cotton mattress on de floor by de
+side of 'er bed. She had a stick dat she used to punch me wid w'en she
+wannid somepin' in de night, an' effen I was hard to wake, she sho'
+could punch wid dat stick.</p>
+
+<p>"Mistus diden' ever have us niggers whipped 'lessen it jes' had to be
+done. An' if us chilluns was bad, fussin' an' fightin', Mistus would git
+'er a stick, but us would jes' run an' hide, an' Mistus would forgit all
+'bout it in jes' a little w'ile.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.284281" id="v.043p.284281"></a>[281]</span>
+
+<p>"Marster was dead, an' us had a overseer, but he was good to us jes'
+lak' Mistus was. Hit was a big old plantation, wid lots of niggers. W'en
+de overseer would try to larn de chilluns to plow an' dey diden' want to
+larn, dey would jes' play 'roun'. Sometimes dey snuck off to de udder
+side of de fiel' an' hunnid for lizards. Dey would hold a lizard's head
+wid a stick, an' spit 'bacco juice in 'is mouf an' turn 'im loose. De
+'bacco juice would make de lizard drunk, and he would run 'roun' an'
+'roun'. Dey would cotch snakes, kill dem an' hang de skins on trees so
+hit would rain an' dey wouldn't have to wuk in de fiel'.</p>
+
+<p>"De quarters was built away f'um de big 'ouse. Dey was cabins made of
+logs an' dey all had dey own gardens whar dey raised all kinds of
+vegetables an' allus had plenny of hog meat. De cookin' was done on a
+big fireplace an' in brick ovens. 'Taters was baked in de ashes, an' dey
+sho' was good.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey had big times huntin' an' fishin' w'en de wuk was over. Dey cotch
+lots of 'possums, an' had big 'possum suppers. De 'possums was roasted
+with plenny of 'taters, butter an' red pepper. Us would eat an' dance
+most of de night w'en us had a 'possum supper.</p>
+
+<p>"De rabbits was so bad in de gardens dat dey tuk white rags an' tied 'em
+on sticks stuck up in de ground. Rabbits woulden' come 'roun' den, cyaze
+dey was 'fraid of dem white rags flyin' on de sticks.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.285282" id="v.043p.285282"></a>[282]</span>
+
+<p>"Mistus b'lieved in lookin' atter her niggers w'en dey was sick. She
+would give 'em medicine at home. Candy an' tea, made wid ho'e houn' an'
+butterfly root tea was good for worms; dewberry wine, lak'wise dewberry
+root tea was good for de stomach ache; samson snake root an' poplar bark
+tea was good medicine for coles an' so'e th'oats, an' w'en you was in
+pain, de red pepper bag would sho' help lots sometimes. If de homemade
+medicine diden' cyore 'em, den Mistus sont for de doctor.</p>
+
+<p>"Slaves went to de white folkses chu'ch an' sot up in de gallery. Dey
+stayed all day at chu'ch, an' had big dinners on de groun'. Dem was sho'
+'nough good dinners. Us had big times on meetin' days.</p>
+
+<p>"Our slaves had prayer meetin' twict a week in deir quarters, 'til dey
+got 'roun' to all de cabins den dey would start over again. Dey prayed
+an' sung all de old songs, and some of 'em as I 'member are: 'Roll
+Jordan Roll,'&mdash;'Better Mind How you Step on de Cross,'&mdash;'Cause You Ain'
+Gon 'er be Here Long,'&mdash;'Tell de Story Bye an' Bye,'&mdash;'All God's
+Chilluns are a Gatherin' Home,' an' 'We'll Understand Better Bye an'
+Bye.' Dey really could sing dem old songs. Mistus would let me go to dem
+cabin prayer meetin's an' I sho' did enjoy 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"W'en slaves died dey jes' tuk 'em off an buried 'em. I doan' 'member
+'em ever havin' a funeral, 'til way atter freedom done come an' niggers
+got dey own chu'ches.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.286283" id="v.043p.286283"></a>[283]</span>
+
+<p>"I 'member one night dey had a quiltin' in de quarters. De quilt was up
+in de frame, an' dey was all jes' quiltin' an' singin', 'All God's
+Chilluns are a Gatherin' Home,' w'en a drunk man wannid to preach, an'
+he jumped up on de quilt. Hit all fell down on de flo', an' dey all got
+fightin' mad at 'im. Dey locked 'im in de smokehouse 'til mornin', but
+dey diden' nobody tell Mistus nuffin' 'bout it.</p>
+
+<p>"Us chilluns had to pick peas; two baskets full 'fo' dinner an' two 'fo'
+night, an' dey was big baskets too. I 'member dere was a white widow
+'oman what lived near our place, an' she had two boys. Mistus let dem
+boys pick 'em some peas w'en us would be pickin', an' us would run 'em
+off, cause us diden' lak' po' white trash. But Mistus made us let 'em
+pick all dey wannid.</p>
+
+<p>"I was 'bout twelve years old w'en freedom come, an' was big 'nough to
+wait on Mistus good den. I 'member how I used to run to de spring wid a
+little tin bucket w'en she wannid a fresh drink of water.</p>
+
+<p>"Mos' of de slaves stayed with Mistus atter freedom come, 'cause dey all
+loved her, an' dey diden' have no place to go. Mistus fed 'em jes' lak'
+she had allus done and paid 'em a little money too. Us diden' never have
+no fussin' an' fightin' on our place, an' de Ku Klux Klan never come
+'roun' dar, but de niggers had to have a ticket if dey lef' de place on
+Sunday. Dat was so de paddyrollers woulden' whip 'em if dey cotch 'em.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.287284" id="v.043p.287284"></a>[284]</span>
+
+<p>"All de niggers on de udder places, called us free niggers long 'fo'
+freedom come, 'cause we diden' have no whippin' post, an' if any of us
+jes' had to be whipped, Mistus would see dat dey warn't beat bad 'nough
+to leave no stripes.</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy left de old Smith plantation, soon atter he got 'is freedom,
+an' went to Augusta, Georgia whar he died in jes' 'bout two years.</p>
+
+<p>"I waked up one mornin' an' heered Mistus makin' a funny fuss. She was
+tryin' to git up an' pullin' at her gown. I was plum skeert an' I runned
+atter some of de udder folkses. Dey come a runnin' but she never did
+speak no mo', an' diden' live but jes' a few hours longer. De white
+folkses made me go to 'er funeral. Dere sho' was a big crowd of folkses
+dar, 'cause evvybody loved Mistus; she was so good to evvybody. Dey
+diden' preach long, mos'ly jes' prayed an' sung Mistus' favorite songs:
+'All God's Chillun are a Gatherin' Home,' and', 'We'll Understand Bye
+an' Bye.'</p>
+
+<p>"I lef' de old place not long atter Mistus died, 'cause hit was too
+lonesome dar an' I missed her so much, I come to town an' jes' wukked
+for white folkses. I doan' 'member all of 'em. But I cain' wuk no mo'
+now, an' hit woan' be so long 'til I see my old Mistus again, an' den I
+can still wait on her, an' we woan' have to part no mo'."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.288285" id="v.043p.288285"></a>[285]</span>
+
+<a name="SmithMary"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 2<br />
+Ex Slave 101]<br />
+<br />
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:<br />
+MARY SMITH<br />
+910 Spruce Street<br />
+Augusta, Georgia<br />
+(Richmond County)<br />
+<br />
+BY: (Mrs.) Margaret Johnson<br />
+Editor<br />
+Fed. Writer's Proj.<br />
+Augusta, Georgia<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.289286" id="v.043p.289286"></a>[286]</span>
+
+<p>Such a hovel, such squalor it would be hard to imagine. Only first hand
+observation could be a reliable witness to such conditions.</p>
+
+<p>Into a tiny room was squeezed a double and a single bed with a
+passage-way barely wide enough to walk between the two beds. The door
+from the small porch could be opened only enough to allow one to enter,
+as the head on the single bed was against it. A small fire burned in the
+open fire place. An old man, ragged but respectful, and two old women
+were sitting in the room, one on a broken chair, the other on an empty
+nail keg. As we entered the room one of the old women got up, took a
+badly clipped and handleless teacup from the hearth and offered it to a
+girl lying in the single bed, in a smother of dirty quilts.</p>
+
+<p>Mary was a squat figure, her head tied up in a dirty towel, her dress
+ragged and dirty, and much too small for her abundant figure. She
+welcomed us telling us the "po chile was bad sick" but she would talk to
+us. As the door of the lean-to kitchen was open, it offered a breath of
+outside air, even though polluted with the garbage scattered on the
+ground, and the odors from chickens, cats and dogs meandering about.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.290287" id="v.043p.290287"></a>[287]</span>
+
+<p>Mary's round face was unwrinkled, but the wisps of wool showing beneath
+her "head rag" were grey, and her eyes were rheumy with age. She was
+entirely toothless and her large tongue rolled ceaselessly in her mouth,
+chewing nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Her articulation necessarily was very poor. "I wus seven yeres old when
+Freedum cum. My ma and pa belonged to Mr. McNorrell of Burke County.
+Miss Sally was a good lady and kind to evebody. My marster was a good
+man cuz he was a preacher, I never member him whuppin' anybody. I
+'members slavry, yes mam, I 'members all the slaves' meals wus cooked in
+de yard, in big pots hung up on hooks on a iron bar. The fust wurk I
+ever done wus to push fire wood under dem pots. Mostly I stayed home and
+minded de baby. My ma uster pin a piece of fat back on my dres' before
+she went to de fiel' and when de baby cry I tek him up and let 'em suck
+'em. My brudder you see sittin' in dere, he de baby I uster mine. My pa
+wuz the blacksmith on the plantashun, and he mek all de plows and tings
+like dat. My ma tek me to de fiel when I wuz 'bout sever yeres ole and
+teach me to chop cotton, I don't member what happen when freedom come,
+tings wuz 'bout de same, fur as we chillun knowed."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.291288" id="v.043p.291288"></a>[288]</span>
+
+<a name="SmithMelvin"></a>
+<h3>Elizabeth Watson<br />
+M.G. 7/15/37<br />
+<br />
+MELVIN SMITH, Ex-Slave, 96 Years<br />
+[Date Stamp: JUL 28 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>"Yes'm, I show does 'member all 'about my white folks an' th' war 'cause
+I was twenty-four year ole when th' war was over. I was born in 1841 an'
+that makes me 'bout eighty-seven now, don't it?"</p>
+
+<p>Old Melvin Smith sat back in his chair with a smile of satisfaction on
+his face. He was seated on the narrow porch of his little cabin with the
+bright sunshine beaming down upon him. But his blind eyes could not
+notice the glare from the sun. His wife and daughter appeared from
+around the corner of the house and took their places near him to hear
+again the story that they had heard many times before.</p>
+
+<p>"My white folks lived in Beaufort, South Ca'lina, an' that's whar I was
+born," Melvin continued. "My old Miss, I called her Miss Mary, took care
+of me 'till I was eight year old. Then she give me back to my ma. You
+see, it was this a-way. My ma an' pa was sold in Beaufort; I don't know
+whar they come from before that. When I was born Miss Mary took me in
+th' big house with her an' thar I stayed, jest like I told you, 'till I
+was eight. Old Miss jest wanted me to be in th' room with her an' I
+slep' on a pallet right near her bed. In the daytime I played in th'
+yard an' I pick up chips for old Miss. Then when I got most big enuff to
+work she give me back to my ma.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I live in a cabin like the rest of th' niggers. Th' quarters was
+stretched out in a line behind Marse Jim's house. Ever' nigger fam'ly
+had a house to theyselves. Me an' my pa an' ma, they names was Nancy an'
+Henry Smith, live in a cabin with my sisters. They names was Saphronia
+an' Annie. We had beds in them cabins made out of cypress. They looked
+jest like they do now. Ever'body cooked on th' fire place. They had pots
+an' boilers that hung over th' fire an' we put th' vittles in thar an'
+they cooked an' we et 'em. 'Course we never et so much in th' cabin
+'cause ever mornin' th' folks all went to th' field. Ma an' Pa was field
+hands an'
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.292289" id="v.043p.292289"></a>[289]</span>
+I worked thar too when I got big enuff. Saphronia an' Annie,
+they worked to th' big house. All th' nigger chillun stayed all day with
+a woman that was hired to take care of them."</p>
+
+<p>When asked about the kind of food they ate, Melvin replied:</p>
+
+<p>"We had enuff for anybody. Th' vittles was cooked in great big pots over
+th' fire jest like they was cookin' for stock. Peas in this pot, greens
+in that one. Corn-bread was made up an' put back in th' husks an' cooked
+in th' ashes. They called that a ash cake. Well, when ever'thing was
+done th' vittles was poured in a trough an' we all et. We had spoons cut
+out of wood that we et with. Thar was a big lake on th' plantation whar
+we could fish an' they show was good when we had 'em for supper.
+Sometimes we go huntin' an' then we had possum an' squirrel to eat. Th'
+possums was best of all."</p>
+
+<p>Melvin was asked to tell something about his master's family.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marster was name Jim Farrell an' his wife was Miss Mary. They had
+three chillun name Mary, Jim an' Martha. They live in a big white house
+sot off from th' road 'bout two an' a half mile from Beaufort. Marster
+was rich I reckon 'cause he had 'bout a sixteen horse farm an' a whole
+hoodle of niggers. If you measured 'em it would a-been several cowpens
+full. Heap of them niggers worked in Marster's house to wait on th'
+white folks. They had a heap of comp'ny so they had to have a heap of
+niggers. Marster was good to his niggers but he had a overseer that was
+a mean man. He beat th' niggers so bad that Marster showed him th' road
+an' told him to git. Then th' Boss an' his son looked after th' hands
+theyselves 'till they could git another one. That overseer's name was
+Jimmy.</p>
+
+<p>"Ever' mornin' at four clock th' overseer blowed a conchshell an' all us
+niggers knowed it was time to git up an' go to work. Sometimes he blowed
+a bugle that'd wake up the nation. Ever'body worked from sunup 'till
+sundown. If we didn't git up when we was s'posed to we got a beatin'.
+Marster'd make 'em beat the part that couldn't be bought." Melvin
+chuckled at his own sly way of saying that the slaves were whipped
+through their clothes.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.293290" id="v.043p.293290"></a>[290]</span>
+
+<p>"In the summertime," he continued, "We wore shirts that come down to
+here." Melvin measured to his ankle. "In the wintertime we wore heavy
+jeans over them shirts an' brogan shoes. They made shoes on the
+plantation but mine was store-bought. Marster give us all the vittles
+an' clothes we needed. He was good to ever'body. I 'member all the po'
+white trash that lived near us. Marster all time send 'em meat an' bread
+an' help 'em with they crop. Some of 'em come from Goldsboro, North
+Ca'lina to git a crop whar we lived. They was so sorry they couldn't git
+no crop whar they come frum, so they moved near us. Sometimes they even
+come to see the niggers an' et with us. We went to see them, too, but we
+had more to eat than them. They was sorry folks."</p>
+
+<p>After a pause, Melvin asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever hear how the niggers was sold? They was put on a stage on
+the courthouse square an' sold kinder like they was stock. The prettiest
+one got the biggest bid. They said that they was a market in North
+Ca'lina but I never see'd it. The ones I saw was jest sold like I told
+you. Then they went home with they marsters. If they tried to run away
+they sont the hounds after them. Them dogs would sniff around an' first
+news you knowed they caught them niggers. Marster's niggers run away
+some but they always come back. They'd hear that they could have a
+better time up north so they think they try it. But they found out that
+they wasn't no easy way to live away from Marster. He always took 'em
+back, didn't beat 'em nor nothin'. I run away once myself but I never
+went nowhere." Melvin's long body shook with laughter as he thought of
+his prank. He shifted in his chair and then began:</p>
+
+<p>"I was 'bout sixteen an' I took a notion I was grown. So I got under the
+house right under Marster's dinin' room an' thar I stayed for three
+months. Nobody but the cook knowed whar I was. They was a hole cut in
+the floor so ever' day she lifted the lid an' give me something to eat.
+Ever' day I sneaked out an' got some water an' walked about a bit but I
+never let nobody see me. I jest got biggety like
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.294291" id="v.043p.294291"></a>[291]</span>
+chillun does now. When
+I got ready to come out for good I went 'way round by the barn an' come
+up so nobody know whar I been. Ol' Miss was standin' in the yard an' she
+spy me an' say, 'Jim," she always call all us niggers Jim 'cause that
+was Marster's name. She say, "Jim, whar you been so long?' I say, 'I
+been to Mr. Jones's workin' but I don't like the way they treat me. You
+all treats me better over here so I come back home.' I say, 'You ain't
+gonna whip me is you, Miss?' Ol' Miss say, 'No, I ain't gonna whip you
+this time but if you do such a thing again I'm gonna use all the leather
+on this place on you." So I went on 'bout my business an' they never
+bothered me."</p>
+
+<p>Melvin was asked about the church he attended. To this he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"The niggers had a church in the bush arbor right thar on the place.
+Preacher Sam Bell come ever' Sunday mornin' at ten clock an' we sot thar
+an' listened to him 'till 'leven thirty. Then we tear home an' eat our
+dinner an' lie round till four-thirty. We'd go back to church an' stay
+'bout hour an' come home for supper. The preacher was the onliest one
+that could read the Bible. When a nigger joined the church he was
+baptized in the creek near the bush arbor." And in a low tone he began
+to speak the words of the old song though he became somewhat confused.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Lord, remember all Thy dying groans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And then remember me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While others fought to win the prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sailed through bloody sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Through many dangers, toils an' snares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I have already come.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I once was lost but now am found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was blind but now I see."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"I've knowed that song for a long time. I been a member of the church
+for sixty year."</p>
+
+<p>When asked about the war, Melvin became somewhat excited. He rose feebly
+to his feet and clasped his walking stick as if it were a gun.</p>
+
+<p>"I see'd the Yankee soldiers drill right thar in front of our house," he
+said. "They'd be marchin' 'long this way (Melvin stumblingly took a few
+steps across the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.295292" id="v.043p.295292"></a>[292]</span>
+porch) an' the cap'n say, 'Right' an' they turn back
+this here way." Melvin retraced his steps to illustrate his words.
+"Cap'n say, 'Aim' an' they aim." He lifted his stick and aimed. "Cap'n
+say, 'Fire' an' they fire. I see'd 'em most ever' day. Ol' Marster was a
+cap'n in our army. I hear big guns a-boomin' all a-time an' the sights I
+did see! Streets jest runnin' with blood jest like it was water. Here
+lay a man on this side with his legs shot off; on that thar side they
+was a man with his arms shot off. Some of them never had no head. It was
+a terrible sight. I wasn't scared 'cause I knowed they wouldn't hurt me.
+Them Yankees never bothered nothin' we had. I hear some folks say that
+they stole they vittles but they never bothered ours 'cause they had
+plenty of they own. After the war Marster called us together an' say,
+'You is free an' can go if you want to' an' I left, so that's all I
+know."</p>
+
+<p>A few days later a second visit was made to Melvin. This time he was on
+the inside of his little cabin and was all alone. He came forward, a
+broad smile on his face, when he heard familiar voices.</p>
+
+<p>"I been thinkin' 'bout what I told you an' I b'lieve that's 'bout all I
+'member," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Then he was asked if he remembered any days when the slaves did not have
+to work.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'm," was the reply. "We never worked on Christmas or the Fourth of
+July. Marster always give us big sacks of fruit an' candy on Christmas
+an' a barbecue the Fourth of July. We never worked none New Year's Day,
+neither. We jest sot around an' et chicken, fish an' biscuit. Durin' the
+week on Wednesday an' Thursday night we had dances an' then they was a
+lot of fiddlin' an' banjo playin'. We was glad to see days when we never
+had to work 'cause then we could sleep. It seem like the niggers had to
+git up soon's they lay down. Marster was good to us but the overseer was
+mean. He wan't no po' white trash; he was up-to-date but he like to beat
+on niggers."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.296293" id="v.043p.296293"></a>[293]</span>
+
+<p>When asked if he has been happier since he was freed, he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"In a sense the niggers is better off since freedom come. Ol' Marster
+was good an' kind but I like to be free to go whar I please. Back then
+we couldn't go nowhar 'less we had a pass. We don't have no overseer to
+bother us now. It ain't that I didn't love my Marster but I jest likes
+to be free. Jest as soon as Marster said I didn't b'long to nobody no
+more I left an' went to Tallahassee. Mr. Charlie Pearce come an' wanted
+some hands to work in orange groves an' fish for him so that's what I
+done. He took a whole crew. While we was down thar Miss Carrie Standard,
+a white lady, had a school for the colored folks. 'Course, my ol' Miss
+had done taught me to read an' write out of the old blue back Webster
+but I had done forgot how. Miss Carrie had 'bout fifteen in her class.</p>
+
+<p>"I stayed in Tallahassee three years an' that's whar I married the first
+time. I was jest romancin' about an' happened to see Ca'line Harris so I
+married her. That was a year after the war. We never had no preacher but
+after we been goin' together for such a long time folks say we married.
+We married jest like the colored folks does now. When I left Tallahassee
+I moved to another place in Florida, thirteen mile from Thomasville, Ga.
+I stay thar 'bout thirty-seven year. My first wife died an' I married
+another. The second one lived twenty-one year an' I married again. The
+one what's livin' now is my third one. In 1905 she had a baby that was
+born with two lower teeth. It never lived but a year. In all, I've had
+twenty-three chillun. They most all lives in Florida an' I don't know
+what they doin' or how many chillun they got. I got four gran'-chillun
+livin' here."</p>
+
+<p>Melvin was asked to tell what he knew of the Ku Klux Klan. He answered:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know nothin' 'bout that, I hear somethin' 'bout it but I never
+b'lieved in it. I b'lieve in h'ants, though. I ain't never see'd one but
+I'se heard 'em. When you walkin' 'long an' a twig snaps an' you feel
+like you want to run an' your legs won't move an' your hair feels like
+it's goin' to rise off your
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.297294" id="v.043p.297294"></a>[294]</span>
+head, that's a ha'nt after you. That sho is
+the evil sperrit. An' if you ain't good somethin' bad'll happen to you."</p>
+
+<p>When asked why he joined the church, he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"So many people is tryin' to live on flowery beds of ease that the world
+is in a gamblin' position an' if it wasn't for the Christian part, the
+world would be destroyed. They ask God for mercy an' He grants it. When
+they git in trouble they can send a telegram wire an' git relief from on
+high."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.298295" id="v.043p.298295"></a>[295]</span>
+
+<a name="SmithNancy"></a>
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by Ex-Slave<br />
+<br />
+NANCY SMITH, Age about 80<br />
+129 Plum Street<br />
+Athens, Georgia<br />
+<br />
+Written by:<br />
+Grace McCune<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 &amp; 7</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.299296" id="v.043p.299296"></a>[296]</span>
+
+
+<p>Nancy Smith was in bed when the interviewer called. The aged Negress
+appeared to be quite feeble but, even though she was alone in the house,
+her head was tied up in a snowy white cloth and the sickroom was neat
+and clean. The bowl of fresh flowers on her bedside table was no gayer
+than Nancy's cheerful chuckle as she repeated the doctor's instructions
+that she must stay in bed because of a weak heart. "Lawsy Chile," she
+said, "I ain't dead yit." Nancy stated that the grandson who lives with
+her has been preparing breakfast and cleaning the room since she has
+been bedridden, and that a niece who lives nearby comes in occasionally
+during the day to look after her.</p>
+
+<p>Asked if she felt strong enough to talk about the old plantation days,
+she answered: "I jus' loves to talk 'bout old times, and I spends a lot
+of dis lonesome time here by myself jus' a-studyin' 'bout dem days. But
+now listen, Chile, and understand dis. I warn't no plantation Negro. Our
+white folks was town folks, dey was. My Mammy and Daddy was Julia and
+Jack Carlton. Dey belonged to old Marster, Dr. Joe Carlton, and us lived
+right here in town in a big white house dat had a upstairs and a
+downstairs in it. Our house stood right whar de courthouse is now.
+Marster had all dat square and his mother, Mist'ess Bessie Carlton,
+lived on de square de other side of Marse Joe's. His office was on de
+corner whar de Georgia (Georgian) Hotel is now, and his hoss stable was
+right whar da Cain's
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.300297" id="v.043p.300297"></a>[297]</span>
+boardin' house is. Honey, you jus' ought to have
+seed Marse Joe's hoss stable for it sho' was a big one.</p>
+
+<p>"No Mam, I don't know 'zactly how old I is. I was born 'fore de war, and
+Marse Joe kept de records of all of us and evvything, but somehow dem
+books got lost. Folks said I was 'bout de age of Marse Joe's son, Dr.
+Willie. Marster had three boys: Dr. Joe, Jr., Dr. Willie, and Dr.
+Jimmie, and dere was one little Mist'ess. She was Miss Julia. Us all
+played 'round in de yard together.</p>
+
+<p>"Daddy, he was de car'iage driver. He driv Marse Joe 'round, 'cept when
+Mist'ess wanted to go somewhar. Den Daddy driv de coach for her, and
+Marse Joe let another boy go wid him.</p>
+
+<p>"De biggest, bestest fireplace up at de big house was in de kitchen whar
+Mammy done de cookin'. It had a great wide hearth wid four big swingin'
+racks and four big old pots. Two of de ovens was big and two was little.
+Dat was better cookin' 'rangements and fixin's dan most of de other
+white folks in dis town had den. When dat fire got good and hot and dere
+was plenty of ashes, den Mammy started cookin' ash cakes and 'taters.
+One of Mammy's good ash-roasted 'taters would be awful good right now
+wid some of dat good old home-made butter to go wid it. Marster allus
+kept jus' barrels and barrels of good old home-made 'lasses sirup,
+'cause he said dat was what made slave chilluns grow fast and be strong.
+Folks don't know how to have plenty of good things to eat lak us had
+den. Jus' think of Marse Joe's big old plantation down nigh de Georgia
+Railroad whar he raised our somepin' t'eat: vegetables sich as green
+corn,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.301298" id="v.043p.301298"></a>[298]</span>
+'taters, cabbages, onions, collards, turnip greens, beans,
+peas&mdash;more than I could think up all day&mdash;and dere was plenty of wheat,
+rye, and corn for our bread.</p>
+
+<p>"Out dar de pastur's was full of cows, hogs and sheep, and dey raised
+lots of chickens and turkeys on dat farm. Dey clipped wool from dem
+sheep to weave wid de cotton when dey made cloth for our winter clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster had a overseer to look atter his plantation, but us chillun in
+town sho'ly did love to be 'lowed to go wid him or whoever went out dar
+when dey needed somepin' at de big house from de farm. Dey needed us to
+open and shut gates and run errands, and whilest dey was gittin' up what
+was to be took back to town, us would run 'round seein' evvything us
+could.</p>
+
+<p>"Honey, de clothes us wore den warn' t lak what folks has now. Little
+gals jus' wore slips cut all in one piece, and boys didn't wear nothin'
+but long shirts 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Dat was
+summertime clothes. In winter, dey give us plenty of warm clothes wid
+flannel petticoats and brass-toed shoes. Grown-up Negroes had dresses
+what was made wid waisties and skirts sewed together. Dey had a few
+gathers in de skirts, but not many. De men wore homespun britches wid
+galluses to hold 'em up. White folks had lots better clothes. Mist'ess'
+dresses had full, ruffled skirts and, no foolin', her clothes was sho'ly
+pretty. De white menfolks wore plain britches, but dey had bright
+colored coats and silk vests dat warn't lak de vests de men wears now.
+Dem vests was more lak fancy coats dat didn't have no sleeves. Some
+folks called 'em 'wescoats.' White chillun never had no special clothes
+for Sunday.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.302299" id="v.043p.302299"></a>[299]</span>
+
+<p>"Miss Julia used to make me sweep de yard wid a little brushbroom and I
+had to wear a bonnet den to keep dust out of my hair. Dat bonnet was
+ruffled 'round de front and had staves to hold de brim stiff, but in de
+back it didn't have no ruffle; jus' de bottom of de crown what us called
+de bonnet tail. Dem bonnets looked good enough in front but mighty
+bob-tailed in de back.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey used to have big 'tracted meetin's in Pierce's Chapel nigh Foundry
+Street and Hancock Avenue, and us was allus glad for dem meetin' times
+to come. Through de week dey preached at night, but when Sunday come it
+was all day long and dinner on de ground. Pierce's Chapel was a old
+fashioned place, but you forgot all 'bout dat when Brother Thomas got in
+de pulpit and preached dem old time sermons 'bout how de devil gwine to
+git you if you don't repent and be washed in de blood of de Lamb. De
+call to come up to de mourner's bench brought dem Negroes jus' rollin'
+over one another in de 'citement. Soon dey got happy and dere was
+shoutin' all over de place. Some of 'em jus' fell out. When de 'tracted
+meetin' closed and de baptizin' dey come, dat was de happiest time of
+all. Most of de time dere was a big crowd for Brother Thomas to lead
+down into de river, and dem Negroes riz up out of de water a-singin':
+_Lord, I'm comin' Home_, _Whar de Healin' Waters Flow_, _Roll, Jordan
+Roll_, _All God's Chillun Got Wings_, and sich lak. You jus' knowed dey
+was happy.</p>
+
+<p>"No Mam, I don't 'member much 'bout folks dyin' in dem days 'cause I
+never did love to go 'round dead folks. De first corpse I ever seed was
+Marse Joe's boy, young Marse Jimmy. I was skeered to go
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.303300" id="v.043p.303300"></a>[300]</span>
+in dat room 'til
+I had done seed him so peaceful lak and still in dat pretty white
+casket. It was a sho' 'nough casket, a mighty nice one; not lak dem old
+home-made coffins most folks was buried in. Hamp Thomas, a colored man
+dat lived right below us, made coffins for white folks and slaves too.
+Some of dem coffins was right nice. Dey was made out of pine mostly, and
+sometimes he painted 'em and put a nice linin' over cotton paddin'. Dat
+made 'em look better dan de rough boxes de porest folks was buried in.
+Mammy said dat when slaves died out on de plantation day wropped de
+'omans in windin' sheets and laid 'em on coolin' boards 'til de coffins
+was made, Dey put a suit of homespun clothes on de mens when dey laid
+'em out. Dey jus' had a prayer when dey buried plantation slaves, but
+when de crops was laid by, maybe a long time atter de burial, dey would
+have a white man come preach a fun'ral sermon and de folks would all
+sing: _Harps (Hark) From De Tomb_ and _Callin' God's Chillun Home_.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere warn't no patterollers in town, but slaves had to have passes if
+dey was out atter 9:00 o'clock at night or de town marshal would put a
+fine on 'em if dey couldn't show no pass.</p>
+
+<p>"De fust I knowed 'bout de war was when Marse Joe's brother, Marse
+Bennie Carlton, left wid de other sojers and pretty soon he got kilt. I
+was little den, and it was de fust time I had ever seed our Mist'ess
+cry. She jus' walked up and down in de yard a-wringin' her hands and
+cryin'. 'Poor Benny's been killed,' she would say over and over.</p>
+
+<p>"When dem yankee sojers come, us warn't much skeered 'cause Marse Joe
+had done told us all 'bout 'em and said to spect 'em 'fore
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.304301" id="v.043p.304301"></a>[301]</span>
+long. Sho'
+'nough, one day dey come a-lopin' up in Marse Joe's yard. Dey had dem
+old blue uniforms on and evvy one of 'em had a tin can and a sack tied
+to his saddle. Marster told us dey kept drinkin' water in dem cans and
+dey called 'em canteens. De sacks was to carry deir victuals in. Dem
+fellows went all through out big house and stole whatever dey wanted.
+Dey got all of Mist'ess' best silver 'cause us didn't have no time to
+hide it atter us knowed dey was nigh 'round de place. Dey tuk all de
+somepin' t'eat dere was in de big house. When dey had done et all dey
+wanted and tuk evvything else dey could carry off, dey called us Negroes
+up 'fore deir captain, and he said all of us was free and could go any
+time and anywhar us wanted to go. Dey left, and us never seed 'em in dat
+yard no more. Marse Joe said all of us dat wanted to could stay on wid
+him. None of us had nowhar else to go and 'sides nobody wanted to go
+nowhar else, so evvy one of Marse Joe's Negroes stayed right on wid him
+dat next year. Us warn't skeered of dem Kluxers (Ku Klux Klan) here in
+town, but dey was right bad out on de plantations.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout de time I was old enough to go to school, Daddy moved away from
+Marse Joe's. Us went over to de other side of de river nigh whar de old
+check mill is. Dey had made guns dar durin' de war, and us chillun used
+to go and look all through dat old mill house. Us played 'long de river
+banks and went swimmin' in de river. Dem was de good old days, but us
+never realized it den.</p>
+
+<p>"I never went to school much, 'cause I jus' couldn't seem to larn
+nothin'. Our teachers said I didn't have no talent for book larnin'.
+School was taught in Pierce's Chapel by a Negro man named
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.305302" id="v.043p.305302"></a>[302]</span>
+Randolph, and
+he sho'ly did make kids toe da mark. You had better know dem lessons or
+you was gwine to git fanned out and have to stay in atter school. Us got
+out of school evvy day at 2:00 o'clock. Dat was 'cause us was town
+chillun. I was glad I didn't live in de country 'cause country schools
+kept de chillun all day long.</p>
+
+<p>"It was sort of funny to be able to walk out and go in town whenever us
+wanted to widout gittin' Marster's consent, but dere warn't nothin' much
+to go to town for 'less you wanted to buy somepin. A few stores, mostly
+on Broad Street, de Town Hall, and de Fire Hall was de places us headed
+for. Us did love to hang 'round whar dat fire engine was, 'cause when a
+fire broke out evvybody went, jus' evvybody. Folks would form lines from
+de nearest cisterns and wells and pass dem buckets of water on from one
+to another 'til dey got to de man nighest de fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Soon as I was big enough, I went to wuk for white folks. Dey never paid
+me much in cash money, but things was so much cheaper dan now dat you
+could take a little cash and buy lots of things. I wukked a long time
+for a yankee fambly named Palmer dat lived on Oconee Street right below
+de old Michael house, jus' 'fore you go down de hill. Dey had two or
+three chillun and I ain't never gwine to forgit de day dat little Miss
+Eunice was runnin' and playin' in de kitchen and fell 'gainst de hot
+stove. All of us was skeered most to death 'cause it did seem den lak
+her face was plumb ruint, and for days folks was 'most sho' she was
+gwine to die. Atter a long, long time Miss Eunice got well and growed up
+to be a fine school teacher. Some of dem scars still shows on her face.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.306303" id="v.043p.306300"></a>[303]</span>
+
+<p>"Me and Sam Smith got married when I was 17. No Chile, us didn't waste
+no money on a big weddin' but I did have a right pretty weddin' dress.
+It was nice and new and was made out of white silk. My sister was
+a-cookin' for Mrs. White at dat time, and dey had a fine two-room
+kitchen in de back yard set off from de big house. My sister lived in
+one of dem rooms and cooked for de Whites in de other one. Mrs. White
+let us git married in her nice big kitchen and all de white folks come
+out from de big house to see Brother Thomas tie de knot for us. Den me
+and Sam built dis very same house whar you is a-settin', and I done been
+livin' here ever since.</p>
+
+<p>"Us was livin' right here when dey put on dem fust new streetcars.
+Little bitty mules pulled 'em 'long and sometimes dey had a right hard
+time draggin' dem big old cars through mud and bad weather. Now and den
+day got too frisky and run away; dat was when dem cars would rock and
+roll and you wished you could git off and walk. Most of de time dem
+little mules done good and us was jus' crazy 'bout ridin' on de
+streetcars."</p>
+
+<p>When Nancy tired of talking she tactfully remarked: "I spects I better
+git quiet and rest now lak de doctor ordered, but I'm mighty glad you
+come, and I hopes you'll be back again 'fore long. Most folks don't take
+up no time wid old wore-out Negroes. Good-bye, Missy."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.307304" id="v.043p.307304"></a>[304]</span>
+
+<a name="SmithNellie"></a>
+<h3>PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE<br />
+<br />
+NELLIE SMITH, Age 78<br />
+660 W. 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 &amp; 7<br />
+Augusta Georgia<br />
+<br />
+September 2, 1938</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.308305" id="v.043p.308305"></a>[305]</span>
+
+
+<p>Large pecan trees shaded the small, well-kept yard that led to Nellie
+Smith's five-room frame house. The front porch of her white cottage was
+almost obscured by a white cloud of fragrant clematis in full blossom,
+and the yard was filled with roses and other flowers.</p>
+
+<p>A small mulatto woman sat in the porch swing, a walking stick across her
+lap. Her straight, white hair was done in a prim coil low on the neck,
+and her print dress and white apron were clean and neat. In answer to
+the visitor's inquiry, she smiled and said: "This is Nellie Smith. Won't
+you come in out of the hot sun? I just knows you is plumb tuckered out.
+Walkin' around in this hot weather is goin' to make you sick if you
+don't be mighty careful.</p>
+
+<p>"'Scuse me for not gittin' up. I can't hardly make it by myself since I
+fell and got hurt so bad. My arm was broke and it looks lak my old back
+never will stop hurtin' no more. Our doctor says I'll have to stay
+bandaged up this way two or three weeks longer, but I 'spects that's on
+account of my age. You know old folks' bones don't knit and heal quick
+lak young folks' and, jus' let me tell you, I've done been around here a
+mighty long time. Are you comfortable, Child? Wouldn't you lak to have a
+glass of water? I'll call my daughter; she's back in the kitchen."</p>
+
+<p>Nellie rapped heavily on the floor with her walking stick, and a tall,
+stout, mulatto in a freshly laundered house frock made her appearance.
+"This is my daughter, Amanda," said Nellie, and,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.309306" id="v.043p.309306"></a>[306]</span>
+addressing her
+off-spring, she continued: "Bring this lady a drink of water. She needs
+it after walkin' 'way out here in this hot sun." Ice tinkled in the
+glass that the smiling Amanda offered as she inquired solicitously if
+there was anything else she could do. Amanda soon went back to her work
+and Nellie began her narrative.</p>
+
+<p>"Lordy, Honey, them days when I was a child, is so far back that I don't
+s'pect I can 'member much 'bout 'em. I does love to talk about them
+times, but there ain't many folks what keers anything 'bout listening to
+us old folks these days. If you don't mind we'll go to my room where
+it'll be more comfortable." Amanda appeared again, helped Nellie to her
+room, and placed her in a large chair with pillows to support the broken
+arm. Amanda laughed happily when she noticed her mother's enthusiasm for
+the opportunity to relate her life story. "Mother likes that," she said,
+"and I'm so glad you asked her to talk about those old times she thinks
+so much about. I'll be right back in the kitchen ironing; if you want
+anything, just call me."</p>
+
+<p>Nellie now began again: "I was born right near where the Coordinate
+College is now; it was the old Weir place then. I don't know nothin'
+'bout my Daddy, but my Mother's name was Harriet Weir, and she was owned
+by Marster Jack Weir. He had a great big old plantation then and the
+homeplace is still standin', but it has been improved and changed so
+much that it don't look lak the same house. As Marse Jack's sons married
+off he give each one of 'em a home and two slaves, but he never did sell
+none of his slaves, and he told them boys they better not never sell
+none neither.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.310307" id="v.043p.310307"></a>[307]</span>
+
+<p>"Slaves slept in log cabins what had rock chimblies at the end. The
+rocks was put together with red clay. All the slaves was fed at the big
+house kitchen. The fireplace, where they done the cookin', was so big it
+went 'most across one end of that big old kitchen. It had long swingin'
+cranes to hang the pots on, and there was so many folks to cook for at
+one time that often there was five or six pots over the fire at the same
+time. Them pots was large too&mdash;not lak the little cookin' vessels we use
+these days. For the bakin', they had all sizes of ovens. Now Child, let
+me tell you, that was good eatin'. Folks don't take time enough to cook
+right now; They are always in too big a hurry to be doin' something else
+and don't cook things long enough. Back in dem days they put the
+vegetables on to cook early in the mornin' and biled 'em 'til they was
+good and done. The biggest diffunce I see is that folks didn't git sick
+and stay sick with stomach troubles then half as much as they does now.
+When my grandma took a roast out of one of them old ovens it would be
+brown and juicy, with lots of rich, brown gravy. Sweet potatoes baked
+and browned in the pan with it would taste mighty fine too. With some of
+her good biscuits, that roast meat, brown gravy, and potatoes, you had
+food good enough for anybody. I just wish I could taste some more of it
+one more time before I die.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Child, two of the best cake-makers I ever knew used them old ovens
+for bakin' the finest kinds of pound cakes and fruit cakes, and evvybody
+knows them cakes was the hardest kinds to bake we had in them days. Aunt
+Betsey Cole was a great cake-baker then. She belonged to the Hulls, what
+lived off down below here
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.311308" id="v.043p.311308"></a>[308]</span>
+somewhere but, when there was to be a big
+weddin' or some 'specially important dinner in Athens, folks 'most
+always sent for Aunt Betsey to bake the cakes. Aunt Laura McCrary was a
+great cake-maker too; she baked the cake for President Taft when he was
+entertained at Mrs. Maggie Welch's home here.</p>
+
+<p>"In them days you didn't have to be runnin' to the store evvy time you
+wanted to cook a extra good meal; folks raised evvything they needed
+right there at home. They had all the kinds of vegetables they knowed
+about then in their own gardens, and there was big fields of corn, rye,
+and wheat. Evvy big plantation raised its own cows for plenty of milk
+and butter, as well as lots of beef cattle, hogs, goats, and sheep.
+'Most all of 'em had droves of chickens, geese, and turkeys, and on our
+place there were lots of peafowls. When it was goin' to rain them old
+peafowls set up a big holler. I never knew rain to fail after them
+peafowls started their racket.</p>
+
+<p>"All our clothes and shoes was home-made, and I mean by that they growed
+the cotton, wool, and cattle and made the cloth and leather on the
+plantation. Summer clothes was made of cotton homespun, and cotton and
+wool was wove together for winter clothin'. Marse Jack owned a man what
+he kept there to do nothin' but make shoes. He had another slave to do
+all the carpenterin' and to make all the coffins for the folks that died
+on the plantation. That same carpenter made 'most all the beds the white
+folks and us slaves slept on. Them old beds&mdash;they called 'em
+teesters&mdash;had cords for springs;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.312309" id="v.043p.312309"></a>[309]</span>
+nobody never heard of no metal springs
+them days. They jus' wove them cords criss-cross, from one side to the
+other and from head to foot. When they stretched and sagged they was
+tightened up with keys what was made for that purpose.</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' look at my room," Nellie laughed. "I saw you lookin' at my bed. It
+was made at Wood's Furniture Shop, right here in Athens, and I've had it
+ever since I got married the first time. Take a good look at it, for
+there ain't many lak it left." Nellie's pride in her attractively
+furnished room was evident as she told of many offers she has had for
+this furniture, but she added: "I want to keep it all here to use myself
+jus' as long as I live. Shucks, I done got plumb off from what I was
+tellin' you jus' ravin' 'bout my old furniture and things.</p>
+
+<p>"My Mother died when I was jus' a little girl and she's buried in the
+old family graveyard on the Weir place, but there are several other
+slaves buried there and I don't know which grave is hers. Grandma raised
+me, and I was jus' gittin' big enough to handle that old peafowl-tail
+fly brush they used to keep the flies off the table when we were set
+free.</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't long after the War when the Yankees come to Athens. Folks had
+to bury or hide evvything they could, for them Yankees jus' took
+anything they could git their hands on, 'specially good food. They would
+catch up other folks' chickens and take hams from the smokehouses, and
+they jus' laughed in folks' faces if they said anything 'bout it. They
+camped in the woods here on Hancock Avenue, but of course it wasn't
+settled then lak it is now. I was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.313310" id="v.043p.313310"></a>[310]</span>
+mighty scared of them Yankees and they
+didn't lak me neither. One of 'em called me a little white-headed devil.</p>
+
+<p>"One of my aunts worked for a northern lady that they called Mrs.
+Meeker, who lived where the old Barrow home is now. Evvy summer when she
+went back up North she would leave my aunt and uncle to take care of her
+place. It was right close to the Yankees' camp, and the soldiers made my
+aunt cook for them sometimes. I was livin' with her then, and I was so
+scared of 'em that I stayed right by her. She never had to worry 'bout
+where I was them days, for I was right by her side as long as the
+Yankees was hangin' 'round Athens. My uncle used to say that he had seen
+them Yankees ride to places and shoot down turkeys, then make the folks
+that owned them turkeys cook and serve 'em. Folks used to talk lots
+'bout the Yankees stoppin' a white 'oman on the street and takin' her
+earrings right out of her ears to put 'em on a Negro 'oman; I never saw
+that, I jus' heard it.</p>
+
+<p>"After the war was over Grandpa bought one of the old slave cabins from
+Marse Jack and we lived there for a long time; then we moved out to Rock
+Spring. I was about eight or nine years old then, and they found out I
+was a regular tomboy. The woods was all 'round Rock Spring then, and I
+did have a big time climbin' them trees. I jus' fairly lived in 'em
+durin' the daytime, but when dark come I wanted to be as close to
+Grandpa as I could git.</p>
+
+<p>"One time, durin' those days at Rock Spring, I wanted to go to a Fourth
+of July celebration. Those celebrations was mighty rough them days and
+Grandpa didn't think that would be a good place
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.314311" id="v.043p.314311"></a>[310]</span>
+for a decent little
+girl, so he didn't want me to go. I cried and hollered and cut up
+something awful. Grandma told him to give me a good thrashin' but
+Grandpa didn't lak to do that, so he promised me I could go to ride if I
+wouldn't go to that celebration. That jus' tickled me to death, for I
+did lak to ride. Grandpa had two young mules what was still wild, and
+when he said I could ride one of 'em Grandma tried hard to keep me off
+of it, for she said that critter would be sure to kill me, but I was so
+crazy to go that nobody couldn't tell me nothin'. Auntie lent me her
+domino coat to wear for a ridin' habit and I sneaked and slipped a pair
+of spurs, then Grandpa put a saddle on the critter and helped me to git
+up on him. I used them spurs, and then I really went to ride. That mule
+showed his heels straight through them woods and way on out in the
+country. I couldn't stop him, so I jus' kept on kickin' him with them
+spurs and didn't have sense to know that was what was makin' him run. I
+thought them spurs was to make him mind me, and all the time I was I
+lammin' him with the spurs I was hollerin': 'Stop! Oh, Stop!' When I got
+to where I was too scared to kick him with the spurs or do nothin' 'cept
+hang on to that saddle, that young mule quit his runnin' and trotted
+home as nice and peaceable as you please. I never did have no more use
+for spurs.</p>
+
+<p>"Grandpa used to send me to Phinizy's mill to have corn and wheat
+ground. It would take all day long, so they let me take a lunch with me,
+and I always had the best sort of time when I went to mill. Uncle Isham
+run the mill then and he would let me think I was helpin' him. Then,
+while he helped me eat my lunch, he would call me his little 'tomboy
+gal' and would tell me about the things he used to do when he was 'bout
+my age.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.315312" id="v.043p.315312"></a>[312]</span>
+
+<p>"My first schoolin' was in old Pierce's Chapel that set right spang in
+the middle of Hancock Avenue at Foundry Street. Our teacher was a Yankee
+man, and we were mighty surprised to find out that he wasn't very hard
+on us. We had to do something real bad to git a whippin', but when we
+talked or was late gittin' to school we had to stand up in the back of
+the schoolroom and hold up one hand. Pierce's chapel was where the
+colored folks had preachin' then&mdash;preachin' on Sunday and teachin' on
+week days, all in the same buildin'. A long time before then it had been
+the white folks' church, and Preacher Pierce was the first one to preach
+there after it was built, so they named it for him. When the white folks
+built them a new church they gave the old chapel to the colored folks,
+and, Honey, there was some real preachin' done in that old place. Me, I
+was a Methodist, but I was baptized just lak the Baptists was down there
+in the Oconee River.</p>
+
+<p>"Me and my first husband was too young to know what we was doin' when we
+got married, but our folks give us a grand big weddin'. I think my
+weddin' cake was 'bout the biggest one I ever saw baked in one of them
+old ovens in the open fireplace. They iced it in white and decorated it
+with grapes. A shoat was cooked whole and brought to the table with a
+big red apple in his mouth. You know a shoat ain't nothin' but a young
+hog that's done got bigger than a little pig. We had chicken and pies
+and just evvything good that went to make up a fine weddin' supper.</p>
+
+<p>"Our weddin' took place at night, and I wore a white dress made with a
+tight-fittin' waist and a long, full skirt that was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.316313" id="v.043p.316313"></a>[313]</span>
+jus' covered with
+ruffles. My sleeves was tight at the wrists but puffed at the shoulders,
+and my long veil of white net was fastened to my head with pretty
+flowers. I was a mighty dressed up bride. The bridegroom wore a real
+dark-colored cutaway coat with a white vest. We did have a swell weddin'
+and supper, but there wasn't no dancin' 'cause we was all good church
+folks.</p>
+
+<p>"We was so young we jus' started out havin' a good time and didn't miss
+nothin' that meant fun and frolic. We was mighty much in love with each
+other too. It didn't seem long before we had three children, and then
+one night he was taken sick all of a sudden and didn't live but a little
+while. Soon as he was taken sick I sent for the doctor, but my husband
+told me then he was dyin' fast and that he wasn't ready to die. He said:
+'Nellie, here we is with these three little children and neither one of
+us had been fit to raise 'em. Now I've got to leave you and you will
+have to raise one of 'em, but the other two will come right on after
+me.'"</p>
+
+<p>For several moments Nellie was still and quiet; then she raised her head
+and said: "Honey, it was jus' lak he said it would be. He was gone in
+jus' a little while and it wasn't two weeks 'fore the two youngest
+children was gone lak their daddy. I worried lots after my husband and
+babies was taken. I wanted to be saved to raise my little girl right,
+and I was too proud to let anybody know how troubled I was or what it
+was all about, so I kept it to myself. I lost weight, I couldn't sleep,
+and was jus' dyin' away with sin. I would go to church but that didn't
+git me no relief.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.317314" id="v.043p.317314"></a>[314]</span>
+
+<p>"One day a dear, good white lady sent for me to come to the hotel where
+she was stayin'. She had been a mighty good friend to me for a long,
+long time, and I had all the faith in the world in her. She told me that
+she had a good job for me and wanted me to take it because it would let
+me keep my little girl with me. She said her best friend's maid had died
+and this friend of hers needed someone to work for her. 'I want you to
+go there and work for her,' said the white lady, 'for she will be good
+to you and your child. I've already talked with her about it.'</p>
+
+<p>"I took her advice and went to work for Mrs. R.L. Bloomfield whose
+husband operated the old check mill. Honey, Mrs. Bloomfield was one of
+God's children and one of the best folks I have ever known. Right away
+she told her cook: 'Amanda, look after Nellie good 'cause she's too
+thin.' It wasn't long before Mrs. Bloomfield handed me a note and told
+me to take it to Dr. Carlton. When he read it he laughed and said; 'Come
+on Nellie, I've got to see what's wrong with you.' I tried to tell him I
+wasn't sick, but he examined me all over, then called to see Mrs.
+Bloomfield and told her that I didn't need nothin' but plenty of rest
+and to eat enough good food. Bless her dear old heart, she done
+evvything she could for me, but there wasn't no medicine, rest, or food
+that could help the trouble that was wearin' me down then.</p>
+
+<p>"Soon they started a revival at our church. One night I wanted to go,
+but Aunt Amanda begged me not to, for she said I needed to go to bed and
+rest; later she said she would go along with me to hear that preachin'.
+Honey, I never will forgit that night.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.318315" id="v.043p.318315"></a>[315]</span>
+The text of the sermon was: 'Come
+unto me all you weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' When
+they began callin' the mourners to come up to the mourners' bench
+something seemed to be jus' a-pullin' me in that direction, but I was
+too proud to go. I didn't think then I ever could go to no mourners'
+bench or shout. After a while they started singin' _Almost Persuaded_,
+and I couldn't wait; I jus' got up and run to that blessed mourners'
+bench and I prayed there. Honey, I shouted too, for I found the Blessed
+Lord that very night and I've kept Him right with me ever since. I don't
+aim to lose Him no more. Aunt Amanda was most nigh happy as I was and,
+from that night when the burden was lifted from my heart, I begun
+gittin' better.</p>
+
+<p>"I worked on for Mrs. Bloomfield 'til I got married again, and then I
+quit work 'cept for nursin' sick folks now and then. I made good money
+nursin' and kept that up 'til I got too old to work outside my own
+family.</p>
+
+<p>"My second husband was Scott Smith. We didn't have no big, fancy weddin'
+for I had done been married and had all the trimmin's one time. We jus'
+had a nice quiet weddin' with a few close friends and kinfolks invited.
+I had on a very pretty, plain, white dress. Again I was blessed with a
+good husband. Scott fixed up that nice mantelpiece you see in this room
+for me, and he was mighty handy about the house; he loved to keep things
+repaired and in order. Best of all, he was jus' as good to my little
+girl as he was to the girl and boy that were born to us later. All three
+of my children are grown and married now, and they are mighty good to
+their old mother. One of my daughters lives in New York.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.319316" id="v.043p.319316"></a>[316]</span>
+
+<p>"Soon after we married, we moved in a big old house called the old White
+place that was jus' around the corner from here on Pope Street. People
+said it was haunted, and we could hear something walkin' up and down the
+stairs that sounded lak folks. To keep 'em from bein' so scared, I used
+to try to make the others believe it was jus' our big Newfoundland dog,
+but one night my sister heard it. She got up and found the dog lyin'
+sound asleep on the front porch, so it was up to me to find out what it
+was. I walked up the stairs without seein' a thing, but, Honey, when I
+put my foot on that top step such a feelin' come over me as I had never
+had before in all my life. My body trembled 'til I had to hold tight to
+the stair-rail to keep from fallin', and I felt the hair risin' up all
+over my head. While it seemed like hours before I was able to move, it
+was really only a very few seconds. I went down those stairs in a hurry
+and, from that night to this day, I have never hunted ghosts no more and
+I don't aim to do it again, never.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been here a long time, Honey. When them first street lights was
+put up and lit, Athens was still mostly woods. Them old street lights
+would be funny to you now, but they was great things to us then, even if
+they wasn't nothin' but little lanterns what burned plain old lamp-oil
+hung out on posts. The Old Town Hall was standin' then right in the
+middle of Market (Washington) Street, between Lumpkin and Pulaski
+Streets. The lowest floor was the jail, and part of the ground floor was
+the old market place. Upstairs was the big hall where they held court,
+and that was where they had so many fine shows. Whenever any white folks
+had a big speech to make they went to that big old room upstairs in Town
+Hall and spoke it to the crowd.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.320317" id="v.043p.320317"></a>[317]</span>
+
+<p>"You is too young to remember them first streetcars what was pulled by
+little bitsy Texas mules with bells around their necks. Hearing them
+bells was sweet music to us when they meant we was goin' to git a ride
+on them streetcars. Some folks was too precise to say 'streetcars'; they
+said 'horsecars', but them horsecars was pulled through the streets by
+mules, so what's the diffunce? Sometimes them little mules would mire up
+so deep in the mud they would have to be pulled out, and sometimes, when
+they was feelin' sassy and good, they would jus' up and run away with
+them streetcars. Them little critters could git the worst tangled up in
+them lines." Here Nellie laughed heartily. "Sometimes they would even
+try to climb inside the cars. It was lots of fun ridin' them cars, for
+you never did know what was goin' to happen before you got back home,
+but I never heard of no real bad streetcar accidents here."</p>
+
+<p>Nellie now began jumping erratically from one subject to another. "Did
+you notice my pretty flowers and ferns on the front porch?" she asked.
+"I jus' know you didn't guess what I made them two hangin' baskets out
+of. Them's the helmets that my son and my son-in-law wore when they was
+fightin' in the World War. I puts my nicest flowers in 'em evvy year as
+a sort of memorial to the ones that didn't git to fetch their helmets
+back home. Yes Mam, I had two stars on my service flag and, while I
+hated mighty bad that there had to be war, I wanted my family to do
+their part.</p>
+
+<p>"Honey, old Nellie is gittin' a little tired, but jus' you listen to
+this: I went to meetin' one night to hear the first 'oman preacher that
+ever had held a meetin' in this town. She was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.321318" id="v.043p.321318"></a>[318]</span>
+meanin' to preach at a
+place out on Rock Spring Street, and there was more folks there than
+could git inside that little old weather-boarded house. The place was
+packed and jammed, but me and Scott managed to git in. When I saw an old
+Hardshell Baptist friend of mine in there, I asked her how come she was
+at this kind of meetin'. 'Curiosity, my child,' she said, 'jus' plain
+old curiosity.' The 'oman got up to preach and, out of pure devilment,
+somebody on the outside hollered; 'The house is fallin' down.' Now
+Child, I know it ain't right to laugh at preachin's of any sort, but
+that was one funny scene. Evvybody was tryin' to git out at one time;
+such cryin', prayin', and testifyin' to the Lord I ain't never heard
+before. The crowd jus' went plumb crazy with fright. I was pushed down
+and trampled over in the rush before Scott could git me out; they mighty
+near killed me." The old woman stopped and laughed until the tears
+streamed down her face. "You know, Honey," she said, when she could
+control her voice sufficiently to resume her story, "Niggers ain't got
+no sense at all when they gits scared. When they throwed one gal out of
+a window, she called out: 'Thank you, Lord,' for the poor thing thought
+the Lord was savin' her from a fallin' buildin'. Poor old Martha
+Holbrook,"&mdash;The sentence was not finished until Nellie's almost
+hysterical giggles had attracted her daughter who came to see if
+something was wrong&mdash;"Martha Holbrook," Nellie repeated, "was climbin'
+backwards out of a window and her clothes got fastened on a nail. She
+slipped on down and there she was with her legs kickin' around on the
+outside and the rest of her muffled up in her clothes.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.322319" id="v.043p.322319"></a>[319]</span>
+It looked lak her
+clothes was jus' goin' to peel off over her head. It took the menfolks a
+long time to git her uncaught and out of that predicament in the window.
+Pretty soon the folks began to come to their senses and they found there
+wasn't nothin' wrong with the house 'cept that some doors and windows
+had been torn out by the crowd. They sho did git mad, but nobody seemed
+to know who started that ruction. My old Hardshell Baptist friend came
+up then and said: 'Curiosity brought us here, and curiosity like to have
+killed the cat.'"</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that Nellie was tired, the visitor prepared to leave. "Goodbye
+and God bless you," were the old woman's farewell words. At the front
+door Amanda said: "I haven't heard my Mother laugh that way in a long,
+long time, and I jus' know she is goin' to feel more cheerful after
+this. Thank you for givin' her this pleasure, and I hope you can come
+back again."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.323320" id="v.043p.323320"></a>[320]</span>
+
+<a name="SmithPaul"></a>
+
+<h3>EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW<br />
+with<br />
+PAUL SMITH, Age 74<br />
+429 China Street<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 />
+Mrs. Leila Harris<br />
+Augusta<br />
+<br />
+and<br />
+John N. Booth<br />
+District Supervisor<br />
+Federal Writers' Project<br />
+Residencies 6 &amp; 7<br />
+Augusta, Georgia</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.324321" id="v.043p.324321"></a>[321]</span>
+
+
+<p>Paul Smith's house stands on China Street, a narrow rutted alley
+deriving its name from the large chinaberry tree that stands at one end
+of the alley.</p>
+
+<p>Large water oaks furnish ample shade for the tidy yard where an old
+well, whose bucket hanging from a rickety windlass frame, was supplying
+water for two Negro women, who were leaning over washtubs. As they
+rubbed the clothes against the washboards, their arms kept time to the
+chant of _Lord I'se Comin' Home_. Paul and two Negro men, barefooted and
+dressed in overalls rolled to their knees, were taking their ease under
+the largest tree, and two small mulatto children were frolicking about
+with a kitten.</p>
+
+<p>As the visitor approached, the young men leaped to their feet and
+hastened to offer a chair and Paul said: "Howdy-do, Missy, how is you?
+Won't you have a cheer and rest? I knows you is tired plumb out. Dis old
+sun is too hot for folkses to be walkin' 'round out doors," Turning to
+one of the boys he continued: "Son, run and fetch Missy some fresh
+water; dat'll make her feel better. Jus' how far is you done walked?"
+asked Paul. Then he stopped one of the women from the washing and bade
+her "run into the house and fetch a fan for Missy."</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.325322" id="v.043p.325322"></a>[322]</span>
+
+<p>Paul is a large man, and a fringe of kinky white hair frames his face.
+His manner is very friendly for, noticing that the visitor was looking
+with some curiosity at the leather bands that encircled his wrists, the
+old man grinned. "Dem's jus' to make sho' dat I won't have no
+rheumatiz," he declared. "Mind if I cuts me a chaw of 'baccy? I'se jus'
+plumb lost widout no 'baccy."</p>
+
+<p>Paul readily agreed to give the story of his life. "I can't git over it,
+dat you done walked way out here from de courthouse jus' to listen to
+dis old Nigger talk 'bout dem good old days.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy belonged to Marse Jack Ellis, and he owned de big old Ellis
+Plantation in Oglethorpe County whar I was borned. Marse Jack give mammy
+to his daughter, young Miss Matt, and when her and Marse Nunnally got
+married up, she tuk my mammy 'long wid her. Mistess Hah'iet (Harriet)
+Smith owned my daddy. Him and mammy never did git married. My granddaddy
+and grandmammy was owned by Marse Jim Stroud of Oconee County, and I dug
+de graves whar bofe of 'em's buried in Mars Hill graveyard.</p>
+
+<p>"All I knows 'bout slavery time is what I heared folkses say, for de war
+was most over when I was borned, but things hadn't changed much, as I
+was raised up.</p>
+
+<p>"I warn't but 'bout 2 years old when young Miss Matt tuk my mammy off,
+and she put me out 'cause she didn't want me. Missy, dey was sho good to
+me. Marse Jack's wife was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.326323" id="v.043p.326323"></a>[323]</span>
+Mistess Lizzie. She done her best to raise me
+right, and de ways she larnt me is done stayed wid me all dese years;
+many's de time dey's kept old Paul out of trouble. No Mam, I ain't never
+been in no jailhouse in all my days, and I sho ain't aimin' to de
+nothin' to make 'em put me dar now.</p>
+
+<p>"In dem days, when chillun got big enough to eat, dey was kept at de big
+house, 'cause deir mammies had to wuk off in de fields and Old Miss
+wanted all de chillun whar she could see atter 'em. Most times dere was
+a old slave 'oman what didn't have nothin' else to do 'cept take keer of
+slave chillun and feed 'em. Pickaninnies sho had to mind too, 'cause dem
+old 'omans would evermore lay on de switch. Us et out of wooden trays,
+and for supper us warn't 'lowed nothin' but bread and milk.</p>
+
+<p>"Long as us was little, us didn't have to wuk at nothin' 'cept little
+jobs lak pickin' up chips, bringin' in a little wood, and sometimes de
+biggest boys had to slop de hogs. Long 'bout de fust of March, dey tuk
+de pants 'way from all de boys and give 'em little shirts to wear from
+den 'til frost. Yes Mam, dem shirts was all us boys had to wear in
+summer 'til us was big enough to wuk in de fields. Gals jus' wore one
+piece of clothes in summertime too; dey wore a plain cotton dress. All
+our clothes, for summer and winter too, was made right dere on dat
+plantation. Dey wove de cloth on de looms; plain cotton for summer, and
+cotton mixed wid a little wool for winter. Dere was a man on de
+plantation what made all our brogans for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.327324" id="v.043p.327324"></a>[324]</span>
+winter. Marster made sho us had
+plenty of good warm clothes and shoes to keep us warm when winter come.</p>
+
+<p>"Folkses raised deir livin', all of it, at home den. Dey growed all
+sorts of gyarden truck sech as corn, peas, beans, sallet, 'taters,
+collards, ingons, and squashes. Dey had big fields of grain. Don't
+forgit dem good old watermillions; Niggers couldn't do widout 'em.
+Marster's old smokehouse was plumb full of meat all de time, and he had
+more cows, hogs, sheep, goats, chickens, turkeys, geese, and de lak, dan
+I ever larnt how to count. Dere warn't no runnin' off to de sto' evvy
+time dey started cookin' a company meal.</p>
+
+<p>"Dem home-made cotton gins was mighty slow. Us never seed no fast
+sto'-bought gins dem days. Our old gins was turned by a long pole what
+was pulled around by mules and oxen, and it tuk a long time to git de
+seeds out of de cotton dat way. I'se seed 'em tie bundles of fodder in
+front of de critters so dey would go faster tryin' to git to de fodder.
+Dey grez dem gins wid homemade tar. De big sight was dem old home-made
+cotton presses. When dem old mules went round a time or two pullin' dat
+heavy weight down, dat cotton was sho pressed.</p>
+
+<p>"Us chillun sho did lak to see 'em run dat old gin, 'cause 'fore dey
+ever had a gin Marster used to make us pick a shoe-full of cotton seeds
+out evvy night 'fore us went to bed. Now dat don't sound so bad, Missy,
+but did you ever try to pick any seeds out of cotton?</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.328325" id="v.043p.328325"></a>[325]</span>
+
+<p>"Course evvybody cooked on open fireplaces dem days, and dat was whar us
+picked out dem cotton seeds, 'round dat big old fireplace in de kitchen.
+All de slaves et together up dar at de big house, and us had some mighty
+good times in dat old kitchen. Slave quarters was jus' little one room
+log cabins what had chimblies made of sticks and red mud. Dem old
+chimblies was all de time a-ketchin' on fire. De mud was daubed 'twixt
+de logs to chink up de cracks, and sometimes dey chinked up cracks in de
+roof wid red mud. Dere warn't no glass windows in dem cabins, and dey
+didn't have but one window of no sort; it was jus' a plain wooden
+shutter. De cabins was a long ways off from de big house, close by de
+big old spring whar de wash-place was. Dey had long benches for de
+wash-tubs to set on, a big old oversize washpot, and you mustn't leave
+out 'bout dat big old battlin' block whar dey beat de dirt out of de
+clothes. Dem Niggers would sing, and deir battlin' sticks kept time to
+de music. You could hear de singin' and de sound of de battlin' sticks
+from a mighty long ways off.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't never been to school a day in all my life. My time as chillun
+was all tuk up nussin' Mistess' little chillun, and I sho didn't never
+git nary a lick 'bout dem chillun. Mistess said dat a white 'oman got
+atter her one time 'bout lettin' a little Nigger look atter her chillun,
+and dat 'oman got herself told. I ain't never uneasy 'bout my chillun
+when Paul is wid 'em,' Mistess said. When dey started to school, it was
+my job
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.329326" id="v.043p.329326"></a>[326]</span>
+to see dat dey got dere and when school was out in de evenin', I
+had to be dere to fetch dem chillun back home safe and sound. School
+didn't turn out 'til four o'clock den, and it was a right fur piece from
+dat schoolhouse out to our big house. Us had to cross a crick, and when
+it rained de water would back up and make it mighty bad to git from one
+side to t'other. Marster kept a buggy jus' for us to use gwine back and
+forth to school. One time atter it had done been rainin' for days, dat
+crick was so high I was 'fraid to try to take Mistess' chillun crost it
+by myself, so I got a man named Blue to do de drivin' so I could look
+atter de chillun. Us pulled up safe on de other side and den dere warn't
+no way to git him back to his own side. I told him to ride back in de
+buggy, den tie de lines, and de old mule would come straight back to us
+by hisself. Blue laughed and said dere warn't no mule wid dat much
+sense, but he soon seed dat I was right, cause dat old mule come right
+on back jus' lak I said he would.</p>
+
+<p>"Us chillun had good times back den, yes Mam, us sho did. Some of our
+best times was at de old swimmin' hole. De place whar us dammed up de
+crick for our swimmin' hole was a right smart piece off from de big
+house. Us picked dat place 'cause it had so many big trees to keep de
+water shady and cool. One Sunday, when dere was a big crowd of white and
+colored chillun havin' a big time splashin' 'round in de water, a white
+man what lived close by tuk all our clothes and hid 'em way up at his
+house; den he got up in a tree and hollered lak evvything was atter him.
+Lawsy, Miss, us chillun all come out of dat crick
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.330327" id="v.043p.330327"></a>[327]</span>
+skeered plumb stiff
+and run for our clothes. Dey was all gone, but dat never stopped us for
+long. Us lit out straight for dat man's house. He had done beat us
+gitting dar, and when us come runnin' up widout no clothes on, he
+laughed fit to kill at us. Atter while he told us he skeered us to keep
+us from stayin' too long in de crick and gittin' drownded, but dat
+didn't slow us up none 'bout playing in de swimmin' hole.</p>
+
+<p>"Talkin' 'bout being skeered, dere was one time I was skeered I was
+plumb ruint. Missy, dat was de time I stole somepin' and didn't even
+know I was stealin'. A boy had come by our place dat day and axed me to
+go to de shop on a neighbor's place wid him. Mistess 'lowed me to go,
+and atter he had done got what he said he was sont atter, he said dat
+now us would git us some apples. He was lots bigger dan me, and I jus'
+s'posed his old marster had done told him he could git some apples out
+of dat big old orchard. Missy, I jus' plumb filled my shirt and pockets
+wid dem fine apples, and us was havin' de finest sort of time when de
+overseer cotch us. He let me go, but dat big boy had to wuk seven long
+months to pay for dat piece of foolishment. I sho didn't never go nowhar
+else wid dat fellow, 'cause my good old mistess said he would git me in
+a peck of trouble if I did, and I had done larn't dat our mistess was
+allus right.</p>
+
+<p>"Times has sho done changed lots since dem days; chillun warn't 'lowed
+to run 'round den. When I went off to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.331328" id="v.043p.331328"></a>[328]</span>
+church on a Sunday, I knowed I had
+to be back home not no later dan four o'clock. Now chillun jus' goes all
+de time, whar-some-ever dey wants to go. Dey stays out most all night
+sometimes, and deir mammies don't never know whar dey is half de time.
+'Tain't right, Missy, folkses don't raise deir chillun right no more;
+dey don't larn 'em to be 'bejient and don't go wid 'em to church to hear
+de Word of de Lawd preached lak dey should ought to.</p>
+
+<p>"Fore de war, colored folkses went to de same church wid deir white
+folkses and listened to de white preacher. Slaves sot way back in de
+meetin'-house or up in a gallery, but us could hear dem good old
+sermons, and dem days dey preached some mighty powerful ones. All my
+folkses jined de Baptist Church, and Dr. John Mell's father, Dr. Pat
+Mell, baptized evvy one of 'em. Course I growed up to be a Baptist too
+lak our own white folkses.</p>
+
+<p>"Slaves had to wuk hard dem days, but dey had good times too. Our white
+folkses looked atter us and seed dat us had what-some-ever us needed.
+When talk come 'round 'bout havin' separate churches for slaves, our
+white folkses give us deir old meetin'-house and built deyselfs a new
+one, but for a long time atter dat it warn't nothin' to see white
+folkses visitin' our meetin's, cause dey wanted to help us git started
+off right. One old white lady&mdash;us called her Aunty Peggy&mdash;never did stop
+comin' to pray and sing and shout wid us 'til she jus' went off to sleep
+and woke up in de better world. Dat sho was one good 'oman.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.332329" id="v.043p.332329"></a>[329]</span>
+
+<p>"Some of dem slaves never wanted no 'ligion, and dey jus' laughed at us
+cause us testified and shouted. One day at church a good old 'oman got
+right 'hind a Nigger dat she had done made up her mind she was gwine to
+see saved 'fore dat meetin' ended. She drug 'im up to de mourner's
+bench. He 'lowed he never made no prep'ration to come in dis world and
+dat he didn't mean to make none to leave it. She prayed and prayed, but
+dat fool Nigger jus' laughed right out at her. Finally de 'oman got mad.
+'Laugh if you will,' she told dat man, 'De Good Lawd is gwine to purge
+out your sins for sho, and when you gits full of biles and sores you'll
+be powerful glad to git somebody to pray for you. Dat ain't all; de same
+Good Lawd is gwine to lick you a thousand lashes for evvy time you is
+done made fun of dis very meetin'.' Missy, would you believe it, it
+warn't no time 'fore dat man sickened and died right out wid a cancer in
+his mouf. Does you 'member dat old sayin' 'De ways of de Lawd is slow
+but sho?'</p>
+
+<p>"Corpses was washed good soon atter de folkses died and deir clothes put
+on 'em, den dey was laid on coolin' boards 'til deir coffins was made
+up. Why Missy, didn't you know dey didn't have no sto'-bought coffins
+dem days? Dey made 'em up right dere on de plantation. De corpse was
+measured and de coffin made to fit it. Sometimes dey was lined wid black
+calico, and sometimes dey painted 'em black on de outside. Dere warn't
+no undytakers den, and dere warn't none of dem vaults to set coffins
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.333330" id="v.043p.333330"></a>[330]</span>
+in
+neither; dey jus' laid planks crost de top of a coffin 'fore de dirt was
+piled in de grave.</p>
+
+<p>"When dere was a death 'round our neighborhood, evvybody went and paid
+deir 'spects to de fambly of de dead. Folkses set up all night wid de
+corpse and sung and prayed. Dat settin' up was mostly to keep cats offen
+de corpse. Cats sho is bad atter dead folks; I'se heared tell dat dey
+most et up some corpses what nobody warn't watchin'. When de time come
+to bury de dead, dey loaded de coffin on to a wagon, and most times de
+fambly rode to de graveyard in a wagon too, but if it warn't no fur
+piece off, most of de other folkses walked. Dey started singin' when dey
+left de house and sung right on 'til dat corpse was put in de grave.
+When de preacher had done said a prayer, dey all sung: _I'se Born to Die
+and Lay Dis Body Down_. Dat was 'bout all dere was to de buryin', but
+later on dey had de funeral sermon preached in church, maybe six months
+atter de buryin'. De white folkses had all deir funeral sermons preached
+at de time of de buryin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes Mam, I 'members de fust money I ever wuked for. Marster paid me 50
+cents a day when I got big enough to wuk, and dat was plumb good wages
+den. When I got to whar I could pick more'n a hunnerd pounds of cotton
+in one day he paid me more. I thought I was rich den. Dem was good old
+days when us lived back on de plantation. I 'members dem old folkses
+what used to live 'round Lexin'ton, down in Oglethorpe County.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.334331" id="v.043p.334331"></a>[331]</span>
+
+<p>"When us warn't out in de fields, us done little jobs 'round de big
+house, de cabins, barns, and yards. Us used to holp de older slaves git
+out whiteoak splits, and dey larnt us to make cheer bottoms and baskets
+out of dem splits. De best cheer bottoms what lasted de longest was dem
+what us made wid red ellum withes. Dem old shuck bottoms was fine too;
+dey plaited dem shucks and wound 'em 'round for cheer bottoms and
+footsmats. De 'omans made nice hats out of shucks and wheat straw. Dey
+plaited de shucks and put 'em together wid plaits of wheat straw. Dey
+warn't counted much for Sunday wear, but dey made fine sun hats.</p>
+
+<p>"Whilst us was all a-wukin' away at house and yard jobs, de old folkses
+would tell us 'bout times 'fore us was borned. Dey said slave dealers
+used to come 'round wid a big long line of slaves a-marchin' to whar
+dere was gwine to be a big slave sale. Sometimes dey marched 'em here
+from as fur as Virginny. Old folkses said dey had done been fetched to
+dis country on boats. Dem boats was painted red, real bright red, and
+dey went plumb to Africa to git de niggers. When dey got dere, dey got
+off and left de bright red boats empty for a while. Niggers laks red,
+and dey would git on dem boats to see what dem red things was. When de
+boats was full of dem foolish Niggers, de slave dealers would sail off
+wid 'em and fetch 'em to dis country to sell 'em to folkses what had
+plantations. Dem slave sales was awful bad in some ways, 'cause
+sometimes dey sold mammies away from deir babies
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.335332" id="v.043p.335332"></a>[332]</span>
+and famblies got
+scattered. Some of 'em never knowed what 'comed of deir brudders and
+sisters and daddies and mammies.</p>
+
+<p>"I seed dem Yankees when dey come, but I was too little to know much
+about what dey done. Old folkses said dey give de Athens people smallpox
+and dat dey died out right and left, jus' lots of 'em. 'Fore dey got rid
+of it, dey had to burn up beds and clothes and a few houses. Dey said
+dey put Lake Brown and Clarence Bush out in de swamp to die, but dey got
+well, come out of dat swamp, and lived here for years and years.</p>
+
+<p>"Granddaddy told us 'bout how some slaves used to rum off from deir
+marsters and live in caves and dugouts. He said a man and a 'oman run
+away and lived for years in one of dem places not no great ways from de
+slave quarters on his marster's place. Atter a long, long time, some
+little white chillun was playin' in de woods one day and clumb up in
+some trees. Lookin' out from high up in a tree one of 'em seed two
+little pickaninnies but he couldn't find whar dey went. When he went
+back home and told 'bout it, evvybody went to huntin' 'em, s'posin' dey
+was lost chillun. Dey traced 'em to a dugout, and dere dey found dem two
+grown slaves what had done run away years ago, and dey had done had two
+little chillun born in dat dugout. Deir marster come and got 'em and tuk
+'em home, but de chillun went plumb blind when dey tried to live out in
+de sunlight. Dey had done lived under ground too long, and it warn't
+long 'fore bofe of dem chillun was daid.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.336333" id="v.043p.336333"></a>[333]</span>
+
+<p>"Dem old slavery-time weddin's warn't lak de way folkses does when dey
+gits married up now; dey never had to buy no license den. When a slave
+man wanted to git married up wid a gal he axed his marster, and if it
+was all right wid de marster den him and de gal come up to de big house
+to jump de broomstick 'fore deir white folkses. De gal jumped one way
+and de man de other. Most times dere was a big dance de night dey got
+married.</p>
+
+<p>"If a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal what didn't live on dat
+same plantation he told his marster, den his marster went and talked to
+de gal's marster. If bofe deir marsters 'greed den dey jumped de
+broomstick; if neither one of de marsters wouldn't sell to de other one,
+de wife jus' stayed on her marster's place and de husband was 'lowed a
+pass what let him visit her twict a week on Wednesday and Sadday nights.
+If he didn't keep dat pass to show when de patterollers cotch him, dey
+was more'n apt to beat de skin right off his back. Dem patterollers was
+allus watchin' and dey was awful rough. No Mam, dey never did git to
+beat me up. I out run 'em one time, but I evermore did have to make
+tracks to keep ahead of 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"Us didn't know much 'bout folkses bein' kilt 'round whar us stayed.
+Sometimes dere was talk 'bout devilment a long ways off. De mostest
+troubles us knowed 'bout was on de Jim Smith plantation. Dat sho was a
+big old place wid a heap of slaves on it. Dey says dat fightin' didn't
+'mount to nothin'. Marse Jim Smith got to be mighty rich and he lived to
+be an old man. He died out widout never gittin' married. Folkses said a
+nigger boy dat was his son was willed heaps of dat propity, but folkses
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.337334" id="v.043p.337334"></a>[334]</span>
+beat him out of it and, all of a sudden, he drapped out of sight. Some
+says he was kilt, but I don't know nothin' 'bout dat.</p>
+
+<p>"Now Missy, how come you wants to know 'bout dem frolics us had dem
+days? Most of 'em ended up scandlous, plumb scandlous. At harvest season
+dere was cornshuckin's, wheat-thrashin's, syrup-cookin's, and
+logrollin's. All dem frolics come in deir own good time. Cornshuckin's
+was de most fun of 'em all. Evvybody come from miles around to dem
+frolics. Soon atter de wuk got started, marster got out his little brown
+jug, and when it started gwine de rounds de wuk would speed up wid sich
+singin' as you never heared, and dem Niggers was wuking in time wid de
+music. Evvy red ear of corn meant an extra swig of liquor for de Nigger
+what found it. When de wuk was done and dey was ready to go to de tables
+out in de yard to eat dem big barbecue suppers, dey grabbed up deir
+marster and tuk him to de big house on deir shoulders. When de supper
+was et, de liquor was passed some more and dancin' started, and
+sometimes it lasted all night. Folkses sometimes had frolics what dey
+called fairs; dey lasted two or three days. Wid so much dancin', eatin',
+and liquor drinkin' gwine on for dat long, lots of fightin' took place.
+It was awful. Dey cut on one another wid razors and knives jus' lak dey
+was cuttin' on wood. I 'spects I was bad as de rest of 'em 'bout dem
+razor fights, but not whar my good old mist'ess could larn 'bout it. I
+never did no fightin' 'round de meetin'-house. It was plumb sinful de
+way some of dem Niggers would git in ruckuses right in meetin' and break
+up de services.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.338335" id="v.043p.338335"></a>[335]</span>
+
+<p>"Brudder Bradberry used to come to our house to hold prayermeetin's, but
+Lawsey, Missy, dat man could eat more dan any Nigger I ever seed from
+dat day to dis. When us knowed he was a-comin' Mistess let us cook up
+heaps of stuff, enough to fill dat long old table plumb full, but dat
+table was allus empty when he left. Yes Mam, he prayed whilst he was
+dere, but he et too. Dem prayers must'a made him mighty weak.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster Joe Campbell, what lived in our settlement, was sho a queer
+man. He had a good farm and plenty of most evvything. He would plant his
+craps evvy year and den, Missy, he would go plumb crazy evvy blessed
+year. Folkses would jine in and wuk his craps out for him and, come
+harvest time, dey had to gather 'em in his barns, cause he never paid
+'em no mind atter dey was planted. When de wuk was all done for him,
+Marster Joe's mind allus come back and he was all right 'til next
+crap-time. I told my good old marster dat white man warn't no ways
+crazy; he had plumb good sense, gittin' all dat wuk done whilst he jus'
+rested. Marster was a mighty good man, so he jus' grinned and said
+'Paul, us mustn't jedge nobody.'</p>
+
+<p>"When marster moved here to Athens I come right 'long wid 'im. Us
+started us a wuk-shop down on dis same old Oconee River, close by whar
+Oconee Street is now. Dis was mostly jus' woods. Dere warn't none of
+dese new-fangled stock laws den, and folkses jus' fenced in deir
+gyardens and let de stock run evvywhar. Dey marked hogs so evvybody
+would know his own; some cut notches
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.339336" id="v.043p.339336"></a>[336]</span>
+in de ears, some cut off de tails
+or marked noses, and some put marks on de hoof part of de foots. Mr.
+Barrow owned 'bout 20 acres in woods spread over Oconee Hill, and de
+hogs made for dem woods whar dey jus' run wild. Cows run out too and got
+so wild dey would fight when dey didn't want to come home. It warn't no
+extra sight den to see folkses gwine atter deir cows on mules. Chickens
+run out, and folkses had a time findin' de aigs and knowin' who dem aigs
+b'longed to. Most and gen'ally finders was keepers far as aigs was
+consarnt but, in spite of all dat, us allus had plenty, and Mistess
+would find somepin' to give folkses dat needed to be holped.</p>
+
+<p>"When us come to Athens de old Georgy Railroad hadn't never crost de
+river to come into town. De depot was on de east side of de river on
+what dey called Depot Street. Daddy said he holped to build dat fust
+railroad. It was way back in slavery times. Mist'ess Hah'iet Smith's
+husband had done died out, and de 'minstrator of de 'state hired out
+most all of Mist'ess' slaves to wuk on de railroad. It was a long time
+'fore she could git 'em back home.</p>
+
+<p>"Missy, did you know dat Indians camped at Skull Shoals, down in Greene
+County, a long time ago? Old folkses said dey used to be 'round here
+too, 'specially at Cherokee Corners. At dem places, it was a long time
+'fore dey stopped plowin' up bones whar Indians had done been buried.
+Right down on dis old river, nigh Mr. Aycock's place, dey says you kin
+still see caves
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.340337" id="v.043p.340337"></a>[337]</span>
+whar folkses lived when de Indians owned dese parts. If
+high waters ain't washed 'em all away, de skeletons of some of dem
+folkses what lived dar is still in dem caves. Slaves used to hide in dem
+same caves when dey was runnin' off from deir marsters or tryin' to keep
+out of de way of de law. Dat's how dem caves was found; by white folkses
+huntin' runaway slaves.</p>
+
+<p>"Now Missy, you don't keer nothin' 'bout my weddin'. To tell de trufe,
+I never had no weddin'; I had to steal dat gal of mine. I had done axed
+her mammy for her, but she jus' wouldn't 'gree for me to have Mary, so I
+jus' up and told her I was gwine to steal dat gal. Dat old 'oman 'lowed
+she would see 'bout dat, and she kept Mary in her sight day and night,
+inside de house mos'ly. It looked lak I never was gwine to git a chance
+to steal my gal, but one day a white boy bought my license for me and I
+got Brudder Bill Mitchell to go dar wid me whilst Mary's ma was asleep.
+Us went inside de house and got married right dar in de room next to
+whar she was sleepin'. When she waked up dere was hot times 'round dat
+place for a while, but good old Brudder Mitchell stayed right dar and
+holped us through de trouble. Mary's done been gone a long time now and
+I misses her mighty bad, but it won't be long now 'fore de Lawd calls me
+to go whar she is.</p>
+
+<p>"I done tried to live right, to keep all de laws, and to pay up my jus'
+and honest debts, cause mist'ess larnt me dat.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.341338" id="v.043p.341338"></a>[338]</span>
+I was up in Virginny
+wukin' on de railroad a few years ago. De boss man called me aside one
+day and said; 'Paul, you ain't lak dese other Niggers. I kin tell dat
+white folks raised you.' It sho made me proud to hear him say dat, for I
+knows dat old Miss up yonder kin see dat de little Nigger she tuk in and
+raised is still tryin' to live lak she larnt him to do."</p>
+
+<p>When the visitor arose to leave, old Paul smiled and said "Goodby Missy.
+I'se had a good time bringin' back dem old days. Goodby, and God bless
+you."</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.342339" id="v.043p.342339"></a>[339]</span>
+
+<a name="StepneyEmeline"></a>
+<h3>[HW: Dist. 1<br />
+Ex-Slave 102]<br />
+<br />
+SUBJECT: EMELINE STEPNEY, A DAUGHTER OF SLAVERY<br />
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1<br />
+RESEARCH WORKER: JOSEPH E. JAFFEE<br />
+EDITOR: JOHN N. BOOTH<br />
+SUPERVISOR: JOSEPH E. JAFFEE (ASST.)<br />
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]</h3>
+<br />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.343340" id="v.043p.343340"></a>[340]</span>
+
+
+<p>Emeline Stepney, as she came into the office that July day, was a
+perfect vignette from a past era. Over 90 years old, and unable to walk
+without support, she was still quick witted and her speech, although
+halting, was full of dry humor. Emeline was clad in a homespun dress
+with high collar and long sleeves with wristbands. On her feet she wore
+"old ladies' comforts." She was toothless and her hands were gnarled and
+twisted from rheumatism and hard work.</p>
+
+<p>Emeline's father, John Smith, had come from Virginia and belonged to
+"Cap'n Tom Wilson." Her mother, Sally, "wuz a Georgia borned nigger" who
+belonged to "Mars Shelton Terry." The two plantations near Greensboro,
+in Greene County, were five miles apart and the father came to see his
+family only on Wednesday and Saturday nights. The arrangement evidently
+had no effect in the direction of birth control for Emeline was the
+second of thirteen children.</p>
+
+<p>Life on the Terry place was a fairly pleasant existence. The master was
+an old bachelor and he had two old maid sisters, Miss Sarah and Miss
+Rebecca. The plantation was in charge of two overseers who were
+reasonably kind to the Negroes.</p>
+
+<p>No crops of any kind were sold and consequently the plantation had to be
+self-sustaining. Cotton was spun into clothing in the master's own
+spinning room and the garments were worn by the master and slaves alike.
+A small amount of flax was raised each year and from this the master's
+two
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.344341" id="v.043p.344341"></a>[341]</span>
+sisters made household linens. Food crops consisted of corn, wheat
+(there was a mill on the plantation to grind these into flour and meal),
+sweet potatoes, and peas. In the smoke house there was always plenty of
+pork, beef, mutton, and kid. The wool from the sheep was made into
+blankets and woolen garments.</p>
+
+<p>The Terry household was not like other menages of the time. There were
+only one or two house servants, the vast majority being employed in the
+fields. Work began each morning at eight o'clock and was over at
+sundown. No work was done on Saturday, the day being spent in
+preparation for Sunday or in fishing, visiting, or "jes frolickin'". The
+master frequently let them have dances in the yards on Saturday
+afternoon. To supply the music they beat on tin buckets with sticks.</p>
+
+<p>On Sunday the Negroes were allowed to attend the "white folks' church"
+where a balcony was reserved for them. Some masters required their
+"people" to go to church; but Emeline's master thought it a matter for
+the individual to decide for himself.</p>
+
+<p>Emeline was about 15 when her first suitor and future husband began to
+come to see her. He came from a neighboring farm and had to have a pass
+to show the "patty rollers" or else he would be whipped. He never stayed
+at night even after they were married because he was afraid he might be
+punished.</p>
+
+<p>The slaves were never given any spending money. The men were allowed to
+use tobacco and on rare occasions there was "toddy" for them. Emeline
+declares SHE never used liquor and ascribes her long life partly to this
+fact and partly to her belief in God.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.345342" id="v.043p.345342"></a>[342]</span>
+
+<p>She believes in signs but interprets them differently [HW: ?] from most
+of her people. She believes that if a rooster crows he is simply
+"crowin' to his crowd" or if a cow bellows it is "mos' likely bellowin'
+fer water." If a person sneezes while eating she regards this as a sign
+that the person is eating too fast or has a bad cold. She vigorously
+denies that any of these omens foretells death. Some "fool nigger"
+believe that an itching foot predicts a journey to a strange land; but
+Emeline thinks it means that the foot needs washing.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Emeline has some remedies which she has found very effective in the
+treatment of minor ailiments. Hoarhound tea and catnip tea are good for
+colds and fever. Yellow root will cure sore throat and a tea made from
+sheep droppings will make babies teethe easily. "I kin still tas'e dat
+sassafras juice mammy used to give all de chilluns." She cackled as she
+was led out the door.</p>
+
+
+
+<br /><br /><hr /><br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.346343" id="v.043p.346343"></a>[343]</span>
+
+<a name="StylesAmanda"></a>
+
+<h3>[HW: Atlanta<br />
+Dist. 5<br />
+Ex-Slave #103]<br />
+<br />
+2-4-37<br />
+Whitley<br />
+SEC.<br />
+Ross<br />
+<br />
+[HW: AMANDA STYLES]</h3>
+<br />
+
+
+<p>On November 18, 1936 Amanda Styles ex-slave, was interviewed at her
+residence 268 Baker Street N.E. Styles is about 80 years of age and
+could give but a few facts concerning her life as a slave. Her family
+belonged to an ordinary class of people neither rich nor poor. Her
+master Jack Lambert owned a small plantation; and one other slave
+besides her family which included her mother, father and one sister. The
+only event during slavery that impressed itself on Mrs. Styles was the
+fact that when the Yanks came to their farm they carried off her mother
+and she was never heard of again.</p>
+
+<p>Concerning superstitions, signs, and other stories pertaining to this
+Mrs. Styles related the following signs and events. As far as possible
+the stories are given in her exact words. "During my day it was going
+ter by looking in the clouds. Some folks could read the signs there. A
+'oman that whistled wuz marked to be a bad 'oman. If a black cat crossed
+your path you sho would turn round and go anudder way. It was bad luck
+to sit on a bed and when I wuz small I wuz never allowed to sit on the
+bed."</p>
+
+<p>Following are stories, related by Mrs. Styles, which had their origin
+during slavery and immediately following slavery.</p>
+
+<p>"During slavery time there was a family that had a daughter and she
+married and ebby body said she wuz a witch cause at night dey sed she
+would turn her skin inside out and go round riding folks horses. Der
+next morning der horses manes would be tied up. Now her husband didn't
+know she was a witch so somebody tole him he could tell by cutting off
+one of her limbs so one night the wife changed to a cat and the husband
+cut off her forefinger what had a ring on it. After that der wife would
+keep her hand hid cause her finger wuz cut off; and she knowed her
+husband would find out that she wuz the witch.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.347344" id="v.043p.347344"></a>[344]</span>
+
+<p>My mother sed her young mistress wuz a witch and she too married but her
+husband didn't know that she wuz a witch; and she would go round at
+night riding horses and turning the cows milk into blood. Der folks
+didn't know what ter do instead of milk they had blood. So one day a old
+lady came there and told em that a witch had been riding the cow, and to
+cast off the spell, they had to take a horse shoe and put it in the
+bottom of the churn and then the blood would turn back ter milk and
+butter. Sho nuff they did it and got milk.</p>
+
+<p>Anudder man had a wife that wuz accused of being a witch so he cut her
+leg off and it wuz a cats' leg and when his wife came back her leg was
+missing.</p>
+
+<p>They say there wuz a lot of conjuring too and I have heard 'bout a lot
+of it. My husband told me he went to see a 'oman once dat had scorpions
+in her body. The conjurer did it by putting the blood of a scorpion in
+her body and this would breed more scorpions in her. They had to get
+anudder conjurer to undo the spell.</p>
+
+<p>There wuz anudder family that lived near and that had a daughter and
+when she died they say she had a snake in her body.</p>
+
+<p>My husband sed he wuz conjured when he wuz a boy and had ter walk with
+his arms outstretched he couldn't put em down at all and couldn't even
+move 'em. One day he met a old man and he sed "Son whats der matter wid
+you?" "I don't know," he sed. "Den why don't you put your arms down?" "I
+can't." So the old man took a bottle out of his pocket and rubbed his
+arms straight down 'till they got alright.</p>
+
+<p>He told me too bout a 'oman fixing her husband. This 'oman saw anudder
+man she wonted so she had her husband fixed so he would throw his arms
+up get on his knees and bark just like a dog. So they got some old man
+that wuz a conjurer to come and cure him. He woulda died if they hadn't
+got
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.348345" id="v.043p.348345"></a>[345]</span>
+that spell off him.</p>
+
+<p>My father told me that a 'oman fixed anudder one cause she married her
+sweetheart she told her he nebber would do her any good and sho nuff she
+fixed her so dat she would have a spell ebby time she went to church.
+One day they sent fer her husband and asked him what wuz the matter with
+her and he told them that this other 'oman fixed her with conjure. They
+sent for a conjurer and he came and rubbed some medicine on her body and
+she got alright.</p>
+
+<p>During slavery time the master promised ter whip a nigger and when he
+came out ter whip him instead he just told him "Go on nigger 'bout your
+business." Der Nigger had fixed him by spitting as for as he could spit
+so the master couldn't come any nearer than that spit.</p>
+
+<p>I know a Nigger that they sed wuz kin ter the devil. He told me that he
+could go out hind the house and make some noise and the devil would come
+and dance with him. He sed the devil learned him to play a banjo and if
+you wanted to do anything the devil could do, go to a cross road walk
+backwards and curse God. But don't nebber let the devil touch any of
+your works or anything that belonged to you or you would lose your
+power.</p>
+
+<p>The nearest I ebber came ter believing in conjure wuz when my step
+mother got sick. She fell out with an 'oman that lived with her daughter
+cause this 'oman had did something ter her daughter; and so she called
+her a black kinky head hussy and this 'oman got fightin mad and sed ter
+her. "Nebber mind you'll be nappy and kinky headed too when I git
+through wid you." My Ma's head turned real white and funny right round
+the edge and her mind got bad and she used to chew tobacco and spit in
+her hands and rub it in her head; and very soon all her hair fell out.
+She even quit my father after living with him 20 years saying he had
+poisoned her. She stayed sick a long time and der doctors nebber could
+understand her sickness. She died and I will always believe she wuz
+fixed.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.349346" id="v.043p.349346"></a>[346]</span>
+
+<p>After relating the last story my interview with Mrs. Styles came to an
+end. I thanked her and left, wondering over the strange stories she had
+told me.</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, by Work Projects Administration
+
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diff --git a/18484.txt b/18484.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..83fb578
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18484.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9362 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery
+in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, 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
+       Georgia Narratives, Part 3
+
+Author: Work Projects Administration
+
+Release Date: June 1, 2006 [EBook #18484]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: A FOLK ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Reda and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available 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 3
+
+
+
+
+Prepared by
+the Federal Writers' Project of
+the Works Progress Administration
+for the State of Georgia
+
+
+INFORMANTS
+
+Kendricks, Jennie                       1
+Kilpatrick, Emmaline                    8
+Kimbrough, Frances                     14
+King, Charlie                          16
+Kinney, Nicey                          21
+
+Larken, Julia                          34
+Lewis, George                          47
+
+McCommons, Mirriam                     51
+McCree, Ed                             56
+McCullough, Lucy                       66
+McDaniel, Amanda                       71
+McGruder, Tom                          76
+McIntosh, Susan                        78
+McKinney, Matilda                      88
+McWhorter, William                     91
+Malone, Mollie                        104
+Mason, Charlie                        108
+  [TR: In the interview, Aunt Carrie Mason]
+Matthews, Susan                       115
+Mays, Emily                           118
+Mention, Liza                         121
+Miller, Harriet                       126
+Mitchell, Mollie                      133
+Mobley, Bob                           136
+
+Nix, Fanny                            139
+Nix, Henry                            143
+
+Ogletree, Lewis                       146
+Orford, Richard                       149
+
+Parkes, Anna                          153
+Pattillio, G.W.                       165
+  [TR: In the interview,  G.W. Pattillo]
+Pope, Alec                            171
+Price, Annie                          178
+Pye, Charlie                          185
+
+Raines, Charlotte                     189
+Randolph, Fanny                       194
+Richards, Shade                       200
+Roberts, Dora                         206
+Rogers, Ferebe                        209
+Rogers, Henry                         217
+Rush, Julia                           229
+
+Settles, Nancy                        232
+Sheets, Will                          236
+Shepherd, Robert                      245
+Singleton, Tom                        264
+Smith, Charles                        274
+  [TR: In the interview, Charlie Tye Smith]
+Smith, Georgia                        278
+Smith, Mary                           285
+Smith, Melvin                         288
+Smith, Nancy                          295
+Smith, Nellie                         304
+Smith, Paul                           320
+Stepney, Emeline                      339
+Styles, Amanda                        343
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+[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.]
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist 5
+Ex-Slave #63]
+
+Whitley,
+1-22-36
+Driskell
+
+EX SLAVE
+JENNIE KENDRICKS
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Jennie Kendricks, the oldest of 7 children, was born in Sheram, Georgia
+in 1855. Her parents were Martha and Henry Bell. She says that the first
+thing she remembers is being whipped by her mother.
+
+Jennie Kendricks' grandmother and her ten children lived on this
+plantation. The grandmother had been brought to Georgia from Virginia:
+"She used to tell me how the slave dealers brought her and a group of
+other children along much the same as they would a herd of cattle," said
+the ex-slave, "when they reached a town all of them had to dance through
+the streets and act lively so that the chances for selling them would be
+greater".
+
+When asked to tell about Mr. Moore, her owner, and his family Jennie
+Kendricks stated that although her master owned and operated a large
+plantation, he was not considered a wealthy man. He owned only two other
+slaves besides her immediate family and these were men.
+
+"In Mr. Moores family were his mother, his wife, and six children (four
+boys and two girls). This family lived very comfortably in a two storied
+weatherboard house. With the exception of our grandmother who cooked for
+the owner's family and slaves, and assisted her mistress with housework
+all the slaves worked in the fields where they cultivated cotton and the
+corn, as well as the other produce grown there. Every morning at sunrise
+they had to get up and go to the fields where they worked until it was
+too dark to see. At noon each day they were permitted to come to the
+kitchen, located just a short distance in the rear of the master's
+house, where they were served dinner. During the course of the day's
+work the women shared all the men's work except plowing. All of them
+picked cotton when it was time to gather the crops. Some nights they
+were required to spin and to help Mrs. Moore, who did all of the
+weaving. They used to do their own personal work, at night also." Jennie
+Kendricks says she remembers how her mother and the older girls would go
+to the spring at night where they washed their clothes and then left
+them to dry on the surrounding bushes.
+
+As a little girl Jennie Kendricks spent all of her time in the master's
+house where she played with the young white children. Sometimes she and
+Mrs. Moore's youngest child, a little boy, would fight because it
+appeared to one that the other was receiving more attention from Mrs.
+Moore than the other. As she grew older she was kept in the house as a
+playmate to the Moore children so she never had to work in the field a
+single day.
+
+She stated that they all wore good clothing and that all of it was made
+on the plantation with one exception. The servants spun the thread and
+Mrs. Moore and her daughters did all of the weaving as well as the
+making of the dresses that were worn on this particular plantation. "The
+way they made this cloth", she continued, "was to wind a certain amount
+of thread known as a "cut" onto a reel. When a certain number of cuts
+were reached they were placed on the loom. This cloth was colored with a
+dye made from the bark of trees or with a dye that was made from the
+indigo berry cultivated on the plantation. The dresses that the women
+wore on working days were made of striped or checked materials while
+those worn on Sunday were usually white."
+
+She does not know what the men wore on work days as she never came in
+contact with them. Stockings for all were knitted on the place. The
+shoes, which were the one exception mentioned above, were made by one
+Bill Jacobs, an elderly white man who made the shoes for all the
+plantations in the community. The grown people wore heavy shoes called
+"Brogans" while those worn by the children were not so heavy and were
+called "Pekers" because of their narrow appearance. For Sunday wear, all
+had shoes bought for this purpose. Mr. Moore's mother was a tailoress
+and at times, when the men were able to get the necessary material, she
+made their suits.
+
+There was always enough feed for everybody on the Moore plantation. Mrs.
+Moore once told Jennie's mother to always see that her children had
+sufficient to eat so that they would not have to steal and would
+therefore grow up to be honorable. As the Grandmother did all of the
+cooking, none of the other servants ever had to cook, not even on
+Sundays or other holidays such as the Fourth of July. There was no stove
+in this plantation kitchen, all the cooking was done at the large
+fireplace where there were a number of hooks called potracks. The pots,
+in which the cooking was done, hung from these hooks directly over the
+fire.
+
+The meals served during the week consisted of vegetables, salt bacon,
+corn bread, pot liquor, and milk. On Sunday they were served milk,
+biscuits, vegetables, and sometimes chicken. Jennie Kendricks ate all of
+her meals in the master's house and says that her food was even better.
+She was also permitted to go to the kitchen to get food at any time
+during the day. Sometimes when the boys went hunting everyone was given
+roast 'possum and other small game. The two male slaves were often
+permitted to accompany them but were not allowed to handle the guns.
+None of the slaves had individual gardens of their own as food
+sufficient for their needs was raised in the master's garden.
+
+The houses that they lived in were one-roomed structures made of heavy
+plank instead of logs, with planer [HW: ?] floors. At one end of this
+one-roomed cabin there was a large chimney and fireplace made of rocks,
+mud, and dirt. In addition to the one door, there was a window at the
+back. Only one family could live in a cabin as the space was so limited.
+The furnishings of each cabin consisted of a bed and one or two chairs.
+The beds were well constructed, a great deal better than some of the
+beds the ex-slave saw during these days. Regarding mattresses she said,
+"We took some tick and stuffed it with cotton and corn husks, which had
+been torn into small pieces and when we got through sewing it looked
+like a mattress that was bought in a store."
+
+Light was furnished by lightwood torches and sometimes by the homemade
+tallow candles. The hot tallow was poured into a candle mold, which was
+then dipped into a pan of cold water, when the tallow had hardened, the
+finished product was removed.
+
+Whenever there was sickness, a doctor was always called. As a child
+Gussie was rather sickly, and a doctor was always called to attend to
+her. In addition to the doctor's prescriptions there was heart leaf tea
+and a warm remedy of garlic tea prepared by her grandmother.
+
+If any of the slaves ever pretended sickness to avoid work, she knows
+nothing about it.
+
+As a general rule, slaves were not permitted to learn to read or write,
+but the younger Moore children tried to teach her to spell, read, and
+write. When she used to stand around Mrs. Moore when she was sewing she
+appeared to be interested and so she was taught to sew.
+
+Every Sunday afternoon they were all permitted to go to town where a
+colored pastor preached to them. This same minister performed all
+marriages after the candidates had secured the permission of the master.
+
+There was only one time when Mr. Moore found it necessary to sell any of
+his slaves. On this occasion he had to sell two; he saw that they were
+sold to another kind master.
+
+The whipping on most plantation were administered by the [HW: over]seers
+and in some cases punishment was rather severe. There was no overseer on
+this plantation. Only one of Mr. Moore's sons told the field hands what
+to do. When this son went to war it became necessary to hire an
+overseer. Once he attempted to whip one of the women but when she
+refused to allow him to whip her he never tried to whip any of the
+others. Jennie Kendricks' husband, who was also a slave, once told her
+his master was so mean that he often whipped his slaves until blood ran
+in their shoes.
+
+There was a group of men, known as the "Patter-Rollers", whose duty it
+was to see that slaves were not allowed to leave their individual
+plantations without passes which [HW: they] were supposed to receive
+from their masters. "A heap of them got whippings for being caught off
+without these passes," she stated, adding that "sometimes a few of them
+were fortunate enough to escape from the Patter-Rollers". She knew of
+one boy who, after having outrun the "Patter-Rollers", proceeded to make
+fun of them after he was safe behind his master's fence. Another man
+whom the Patter-Rollers had pursued any number of times but who had
+always managed to escape, was finally caught one day and told to pray
+before he was given his whipping. As he obeyed he noticed that he was
+not being closely observed, whereupon he made a break that resulted in
+his escape from them again.
+
+The treatment on some of the other plantations was so severe that slaves
+often ran away, Jennie Kendricks told of one man [HW: who was] [TR:
+"being" crossed out] lashed [HW: and who] ran away but was finally
+caught. When his master brought him back he was locked in a room until
+he could be punished. When the master finally came to administer the
+whipping, Lash had cut his own throat in a last effort to secure his
+freedom. He was not successful; his life was saved by quick action on
+the part of his master. Sometime later after rough handling Lash finally
+killed his master [HW: and] was burned at the stake for this crime.
+
+Other slaves were more successful at escape, some being able to remain
+away for as long as three years at a time. At nights, they slipped to
+the plantation where they stole hogs and other food. Their shelters were
+usually caves, some times holes dug in the ground. Whenever they were
+caught, they were severely whipped.
+
+A slave might secure his freedom without running away. This is true in
+the case of Jennie Kendricks' grandfather who, after hiring his time out
+for a number of years, was able to save enough money with which to
+purchase himself from his master.
+
+Jennie Kendricks remembers very little of the talk between her master
+and mistress concerning the war. She does remember being taken to see
+the Confederate soldiers drill a short distance from the house. She says
+"I though it was very pretty, 'course I did'nt know what was causing
+this or what the results would be". Mr. Moore's oldest sons went to war
+[HW: but he] himself did not enlist until the war was nearly over. She
+was told that the Yankee soldiers burned all the gin houses and took all
+live stock that they saw while on the march, but no soldiers passed near
+their plantation.
+
+After the war ended and all the slaves had been set free, some did not
+know it, [HW: as] they were not told by their masters. [HW: A number of
+them] were tricked into signing contracts which bound them to their
+masters for several years longer.
+
+As for herself and her grandmother, they remained on the Moore property
+where her grandmother finally died. Her mother moved away when freedom
+was declared and started working for someone else. It was about this
+time that Mr. Moore began to prosper, he and his brother Marvin gone
+into business together.
+
+According to Jennie Kendricks, she has lived to reach such a ripe old
+age because she has always been obedient and because she has always
+been a firm believer in God.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist 1
+Ex-Slave #62]
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:
+EMMALINE KILPATRICK, Age 74
+Born a slave on the plantation of
+Judge William Watson Moore,
+White Plains, (Greene County) Georgia
+
+BY: SARAH H. HALL
+ATHENS, GA.
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+One morning in October, as I finished planting hyacinth bulbs on my
+cemetery lot, I saw an old negro woman approaching. She was Emmaline
+Kilpatrick, born in 1863, on my grandfather's plantation.
+
+"Mawnin' Miss Sarah," she began, "Ah seed yer out hyar in de graveyard,
+en I cum right erlong fer ter git yer ter read yo' Aunt Willie's
+birthday, offen her toomstone, en put it in writin' fer me."
+
+"I don't mind doing that for you, Emmaline," I replied, "but why do you
+want to know my aunt's birthday?"
+
+"Well," answered the old ex-slave, "I can't rightly tell mah age no
+udder way. My mammy, she tole me, I wuz bawned de same night ez Miss
+Willie wuz, en mammy allus tole me effen I ever want ter know how ole I
+is, jes' ask my white folks how ole Miss Willie is."
+
+When I had pencilled the birthdate on a scrap of paper torn from my note
+book and she had tucked it carefully away in a pocket in her clean blue
+checked gingham apron, Emmaline began to talk of the old days on my
+grandfather's farm.
+
+"Miss Sarah, Ah sho did love yo' aunt Willie. We wuz chilluns growin' up
+tergedder on Marse Billie's place. You mought not know it, but black
+chilluns gits grown heap faster den white chilluns, en whilst us played
+'round de yard, en orchards, en pastures out dar, I wuz sposed ter take
+care er Miss Willie en not let her git hurt, er nuthin' happen ter her."
+
+"My mammy say dat whan Marse Billie cum hom' frum de War, he call all
+his niggers tergedder en tell 'am dey is free, en doan b'long ter nobody
+no mo'. He say dat eny uf 'um dat want to, kin go 'way and live whar dey
+laks, en do lak dey wanter. Howsome ebber, he do say effen enybody wants
+ter stay wid him, en live right on in de same cabins, dey kin do it,
+effen dey promise him ter be good niggers en mine him lak dey allus
+done."
+
+"Most all de niggers stayed wid Marse Billie, 'ceppen two er thee brash,
+good fer nuthin's."
+
+Standing there in the cemetery, as I listened to old Emmaline tell of
+the old days, I could see cotton being loaded on freight cars at the
+depot. I asked Emmaline to tell what she could remember of the days whan
+we had no railroad to haul the cotton to market.
+
+"Well," she said, "Fore dis hyar railroad wuz made, dey hauled de cotton
+ter de Pint (She meant Union Point) en sold it dar. De Pint's jes' 'bout
+twelve miles fum hyar. Fo' day had er railroad thu de Pint, Marse Billie
+used ter haul his cotton clear down ter Jools ter sell it. My manny say
+dat long fo' de War he used ter wait twel all de cotton wuz picked in de
+fall, en den he would have it all loaded on his waggins. Not long fo'
+sundown he wud start de waggins off, wid yo' unker Anderson bossin' 'em,
+on de all night long ride towards Jools. 'Bout fo' in de mawnin' Marse
+Billie en yo' grammaw, Miss Margie, 'ud start off in de surrey, driving
+de bays, en fo' dem waggins git ter Jools Marse Billie done cotch up wid
+em. He drive er head en lead em on ter de cotton mill in Jools, whar he
+sell all his cotton. Den him en Miss Margie, dey go ter de mill sto' en
+buy white sugar en udder things dey doan raise on de plantation, en load
+'em on de waggins en start back home."
+
+"But Emmaline," I interrupted, "Sherman's army passed through Jewels and
+burned the houses and destroyed the property there. How did the people
+market their cotton then?"
+
+Emmaline scratched her head. "Ah 'members somepin 'bout dat," she
+declared. "Yassum, I sho' does 'member my mammy sayin' dat folks sed
+when de Fed'rals wuz bunnin' up evvy thing 'bout Jools, dey wuz settin'
+fire ter de mill, when de boss uv dem sojers look up en see er sign up
+over er upstairs window. Hit wuz de Mason's sign up day, kaze dat wuz de
+Mason's lodge hall up over de mill. De sojer boss, he meks de udder
+sojers put out de fire. He say him er Mason hisself en he ain' gwine see
+nobuddy burn up er Masonic Hall. Dey kinder tears up some uv de fixin's
+er de Mill wuks, but dey dassent burn down de mill house kaze he ain't
+let 'em do nuthin' ter de Masonic Hall. Yar knows, Miss Sarah, Ah wuz
+jes' 'bout two years ole when dat happen, but I ain't heered nuffin'
+'bout no time when dey didden' take cotton ter Jools ever year twel de
+railroad come hyar."
+
+"Did yer ax me who mah'ed my maw an paw? Why, Marse Billie did, cose he
+did! He wuz Jedge Moore, Marse Billie wuz, en he wone gwine hev no
+foolis'mant 'mongst 'is niggers. Fo' de War en durin' de War, de niggers
+went ter de same church whar dare white folks went. Only de niggers, dey
+set en de gallery."
+
+"Marse Billie made all his niggers wuk moughty hard, but he sho' tuk
+good keer uv 'em. Miss Margie allus made 'em send fer her when de
+chilluns wuz bawned in de slave cabins. My mammy, she say, Ise 'bout de
+onliest slave baby Miss Margie diden' look after de bawnin, on dat
+plantation. When any nigger on dat farm wuz sick, Marse Billie seed dat
+he had medicine an lookin' atter, en ef he wuz bad sick Marse Billie had
+da white folks doctor come see 'bout 'im."
+
+"Did us hev shoes? Yas Ma'am us had shoes. Dat wuz all ole Pegleg wuz
+good fer, jes ter mek shoes, en fix shoes atter dey wuz 'bout ter give
+out. Pegleg made de evvy day shoes for Marse Billie's own chilluns,
+'cept now en den Marse Billie fetched 'em home some sto' bought shoes
+fun Jools."
+
+"Yassum, us sho' wuz skeered er ghosts. Dem days when de War won't long
+gone, niggers sho' wus skert er graveyards. Mos' evvy nigger kep' er
+rabbit foot, kaze ghosties wone gwine bodder nobuddy dat hed er lef'
+hind foot frum er graveyard rabbit. Dem days dar wuz mos' allus woods
+'round de graveyards, en it uz easy ter ketch er rabbit az he loped
+outer er graveyard. Lawsy, Miss Sarah, dose days Ah sho' wouldn't er
+been standin' hyar in no graveyard talkin' ter ennybody, eben in wide
+open daytime."
+
+"En you ax wuz dey enny thing else uz wuz skert uv? Yassum, us allus did
+git moughty oneasy ef er scritch owl hollered et night. Pappy ud hop
+right out er his bed en stick de fire shovel en de coals. Effen he did
+dat rat quick, an look over 'is lef' shoulder whilst de shovel gittin'
+hot, den maybe no no nigger gwine die dat week on dat plantation. En us
+nebber did lak ter fine er hawse tail hair en de hawse trough, kaze us
+wuz sho' ter meet er snake fo' long."
+
+"Yassum, us had chawms fer heap er things. Us got 'em fum er ole Injun
+'oman dat lived crost de crick. Her sold us chawms ter mek de mens lak
+us, en chawms dat would git er boy baby, er anudder kind er chawms effen
+yer want er gal baby. Miss Margie allus scold 'bout de chawns, en mek us
+shamed ter wear 'em, 'cept she doan mine ef us wear asserfitidy chawms
+ter keep off fevers, en she doan say nuffin when my mammy wear er nutmeg
+on a wool string 'round her neck ter keep off de rheumatiz.
+
+"En is you got ter git on home now, Miss Sarah? Lemme tote dat hoe en
+trowel ter yer car fer yer. Yer gwine ter take me home in yer car wid
+yer, so ez I kin weed yer flower gyarden fo' night? Yassum, I sho' will
+be proud ter do it fer de black dress you wo' las' year. Ah gwine ter
+git evvy speck er grass outer yo' flowers, kaze ain' you jes' lak yo'
+grammaw--my Miss Margie."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist 6
+Ex Slave #65]
+
+J.R. Jones
+
+FRANCES KIMBROUGH, EX-SLAVE
+Place of birth: On Kimbrough plantation, Harries County,
+near Cataula, Georgia
+Date of birth: About 1854
+Present residence: 1639-5th Avenue, Columbus, Georgia
+Interviewed: August 7, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 --]
+
+
+"Aunt Frances" story reveals that, her young "marster" was Dr. Jessie
+Kimbrough--a man who died when she was about eighteen years of age. But
+a few weeks later, while working in the field one day, she saw "Marse
+Jessie's" ghost leaning against a pine "watchin us free Niggers wuckin."
+
+When she was about twenty-two years of age, "a jealous Nigger oman"
+"tricked" her. The "spell" cast by this "bad oman" affected the victim's
+left arm and hand. Both became numb and gave her great "misery". A
+peculiar feature of this visitation of the "conjurer's" spite was: if a
+friend or any one massaged or even touched the sufferer's afflicted arm
+or hand, that person was also similarly stricken the following day,
+always recovering, however, on the second day.
+
+Finally, "Aunt" Frances got in touch with a "hoodoo" doctor, a man who
+lived in Muscogee County--about twenty-five miles distant from her. This
+man paid the patient one visit, then gave her absent treatment for
+several weeks, at the end of which time she recovered the full use of
+her arm and hand. Neither ever gave her any trouble again.
+
+For her old-time "white fokes", "Aunt" Frances entertains an almost
+worshipful memory. Also, in her old age, she reflects the superstitious
+type of her race.
+
+Being so young when freedom was declared, emancipation did not have as
+much significance for "Aunt" Frances as it did for the older colored
+people. In truth, she had no true conception of what it "wuz all about"
+until several years later. But she does know that she had better food
+and clothes before the slaves were freed than she had in the years
+immediately following.
+
+She is deeply religious, as most ex-slaves are, but--as typical of the
+majority of aged Negroes--associates "hants" and superstition with her
+religion.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist 6
+Ex-Slave #64]
+
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-Search Worker
+
+CHARLIE KING--EX-SLAVE
+Interviewed
+435 E. Taylor Street, Griffin, Georgia
+September 16, 1936
+
+
+Charlie was born in Sandtown, (now Woodbury) Meriwether County, Georgia,
+eighty-five or six years ago. He does not know his exact age because his
+"age got burned up" when the house in which his parents lived was burned
+to the ground.
+
+The old man's parents, Ned and Ann King, [TR: "were slaves of" crossed
+out] Mr. John King, who owned a big plantation near Sandtown [TR: "also
+about two hundred slaves" crossed out]. [TR: HW corrections are too
+faint to read.]
+
+Charlie's parents were married by the "broom stick ceremony." The Master
+and Mistress were present at the wedding. The broom was laid down on the
+floor, the couple held each other's hands and stepped backward over it,
+then the Master told the crowd that the couple were man and wife.
+
+This marriage lasted for over fifty years and they "allus treated each
+other right."
+
+Charlie said that all the "Niggers" on "ole Master's place" had to work,
+"even chillun over seven or eight years of age."
+
+The first work that Charlie remembered was "toting cawn" for his mother
+"to drap", and sweeping the yards up at the "big house". He also recalls
+that many times when he was in the yard at the "big house", "Ole Miss"
+would call him in and give him a buttered biscuit.
+
+The Master and Mistress always named the Negro babies and usually gave
+them Bible names.
+
+When the Negroes were sick, "Ole Master" and "Ole Miss" did the
+doctoring, sometimes giving them salts or oil, and if [HW: a Negro]
+refused it, they used the raw hide "whup."
+
+When a member of a Negro family died, the master permitted all the
+Negroes to stop work and go to the funeral. The slave was buried in the
+slave grave yard. Sometimes a white minister read the Bible service, but
+usually a Negro preacher [HW: "officiated"].
+
+The Negroes on this plantation had to work from sun up till sun down,
+except Saturday and Sunday; those were free.
+
+The master blew on a big conch shell every morning at four o'clock, and
+when the first long blast was heard the lights "'gin to twinkle in every
+"Nigger" cabin." Charlie, chuckling, recalled that "ole Master" blowed
+that shell so it could-a-been heard for five miles." Some of the
+"Niggers" went to feed the mules and horses, some to milk the cows, some
+to cook the breakfast in the big house, some to chop the wood, while
+others were busy cleaning up the "big house."
+
+When asked if he believed in signs, Charlie replied: "I sho does for dis
+reason. Once jest befo my baby brother died, ole screech owl, he done
+come and set up in the big oak tree right at the doah by de bed and fo'
+the next twelve hours passed, my brother was dead. Screech owls allus
+holler 'round the house before death."
+
+The slaves always had plenty to eat and wear, and therefore did not know
+what it was to be hungry.
+
+The Master planted many acres of cotton, corn, wheat, peas, and all
+kinds of garden things. Every "Nigger family was required to raise
+plenty of sweet potatoes, the Master giving them a patch." "My 'ole
+Master' trained his smartest 'Niggers' to do certain kinds of work. My
+mother was a good weaver, and [HW: she] wove all the cloth for her own
+family, and bossed the weaving of all the other weavers on the
+plantation."
+
+Charlie and all of his ten brothers and sisters helped to card and spin
+the cotton for the looms. Sometimes they worked all night, Charlie often
+going to sleep while carding, when his mother would crack him on the
+head with the carder handle and wake him up. Each child had a night for
+carding and spinning, so they all would get a chance to sleep.
+
+Every Saturday night, the Negroes had a "breakdown," often dancing all
+night long. About twelve o'clock they had a big supper, everybody
+bringing a box of all kinds of good things to eat, and putting it on a
+long table.
+
+On Sunday, all the darkies had to go to church. Sometimes the Master had
+a house on his plantation for preaching, and sometimes the slaves had to
+go ten or twelve miles to preaching. When they went so far the slaves
+could use 'ole' Master's' mules and wagons.
+
+Charlie recalls very well when the Yankees came through. The first thing
+they did when they reached 'ole Master's' place was to break open the
+smokehouse and throw the best hams and shoulders out to the darkies, but
+as soon as the Yankees passed, the white folks made the "Niggers" take
+"all dey had'nt et up" back to the smokehouse. "Yes, Miss, we had plenty
+of liquor. Ole Master always kept kegs of it in the cellar and big
+'Jimmy-john's' full in the house, and every Saturday night he'd give us
+darkies a dram, but nobody nevah seed no drunk Nigger lak dey does now."
+
+Charlie's mother used to give her "chillun" "burnt whiskey" every
+morning "to start the day off." This burnt whiskey gave them "long
+life".
+
+Another thing that Charlie recalls about the Yankees coming through, was
+that they took the saddles off their "old sore back horses", turned them
+loose, and caught some of Master's fine "hosses", threw the saddles over
+them and rode away.
+
+Charlie said though "ole Marster" "whupped" when it was necessary, but
+he was not "onmerciful" like some of the other "ole Marsters" were, but
+the "paterolers would sho lay it on if they caught a Nigger off his home
+plantation without a pass." The passes were written statements or
+permits signed by the darkies' owner, or the plantation overseer.
+
+Charlie is very feeble and unable to work. The Griffin Relief
+Association [TR: "furnishes him his sustenance" crossed out, "sees to
+him" or possibly "supports him" written in.]
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE
+
+NICEY KINNEY, Age 86
+R.F.D. #3
+Athens, Ga.
+
+Written by:
+Miss Grace McCune
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Proj.
+Res. 6 & 7
+Augusta, Ga.
+
+Sept. 28, 1938
+
+
+A narrow path under large water oaks led through a well-kept yard where
+a profusion of summer flowers surrounded Nicey Kinney's two-story frame
+house. The porch floor and a large portion of the roof had rotted down,
+and even the old stone chimney at one end of the structure seemed to
+sag. The middle-aged mulatto woman who answered the door shook her head
+when asked if she was Nicey Kinney. "No, mam," she protested, "but dat's
+my mother and she's sick in bed. She gits mighty lonesome lyin' dar in
+de bed and she sho does love to talk. Us would be mighty proud if you
+would come in and see her."
+
+Nicey was propped up in bed and, although the heat of the September day
+was oppressive, the sick woman wore a black shoulder cape over her thick
+flannel nightgown; heavy quilts and blankets were piled close about her
+thin form, and the window at the side of her bed was tightly closed. Not
+a lock of her hair escaped the nightcap that enveloped her head. The
+daughter removed an empty food tray and announced, "Mammy, dis lady's
+come to see you and I 'spects you is gwine to lak her fine 'cause she
+wants to hear 'bout dem old days dat you loves so good to tell about."
+Nicey smiled. "I'se so glad you come to see me," she said, "'cause I
+gits so lonesome; jus' got to stay here in dis bed, day in and day out.
+I'se done wore out wid all de hard wuk I'se had to do, and now I'se a
+aged 'oman, done played out and sufferin' wid de high blood pressur'.
+But I kin talk and I does love to bring back dem good old days a-fore de
+war."
+
+Newspapers had been pasted on the walls of Nicey's room. In one corner
+an enclosed staircase was cut off from the room by a door at the head of
+the third step; the space underneath the stair was in use as a closet.
+The marble topped bureau, two double beds, a couple of small tables, and
+some old chairs were all of a period prior to the current century. A pot
+of peas was perched on a pair of "firedogs" over the coals of a wood
+fire in the open fireplace. On a bed of red coals a thick iron pan held
+a large pone of cornbread, and the tantalizing aroma of coffee drew
+attention to a steaming coffeepot on a trivet in one corner of the
+hearth. Nicey's daughter turned the bread over and said, "Missy, I jus'
+bet you ain't never seed nobody cookin' dis way. Us is got a stove back
+in de kitchen, but our somepin t'eat seems to taste better fixed dis
+'way; it brings back dem old days when us was chillun and all of us was
+at home wid mammy." Nicey grinned. "Missy," she said, "Annie--dat's dis
+gal of mine here--laughs at de way I laks dem old ways of livin', but
+she's jus' as bad 'bout 'em as I is, 'specially 'bout dat sort of
+cookin'; somepin t'eat cooked in dat old black pot is sho good.
+
+"Marse Gerald Sharp and his wife, Miss Annie, owned us and, Child, dey
+was grand folks. Deir old home was 'way up in Jackson County 'twixt
+Athens and Jefferson. Dat big old plantation run plumb back down to de
+Oconee River. Yes, mam, all dem rich river bottoms was Marse Gerald's.
+
+"Mammy's name was Ca'line and she b'longed to Marse Gerald, but Marse
+Hatton David owned my daddy--his name was Phineas. De David place warn't
+but 'bout a mile from our plantation and daddy was 'lowed to stay wid
+his fambly most evvy night; he was allus wid us on Sundays. Marse Gerald
+didn't have no slaves but my mammy and her chillun, and he was sho
+mighty good to us.
+
+"Marse Gerald had a nice four-room house wid a hall all de way through
+it. It even had two big old fireplaces on one chimbly. No, mam, it
+warn't a rock chimbly; dat chimbly was made out of home-made bricks.
+Marster's fambly had deir cookin' done in a open fireplace lak evvybody
+else for a long time and den jus' 'fore de big war he bought a stove.
+Yes, mam, Marse Gerald bought a cook stove and us felt plumb rich 'cause
+dere warn't many folks dat had stoves back in dem days.
+
+"Mammy lived in de old kitchen close by de big house 'til dere got to be
+too many of us; den Marse Gerald built us a house jus' a little piece
+off from de big house. It was jus' a log house, but Marster had all dem
+cracks chinked tight wid red mud, and he even had one of dem
+franklin-back chimblies built to keep our little cabin nice and warm.
+Why, Child, ain't you never seed none of dem old chimblies? Deir backs
+sloped out in de middle to throw out de heat into de room and keep too
+much of it from gwine straight up de flue. Our beds in our cabin was
+corded jus' lak dem up at de big house, but us slept on straw ticks and,
+let me tell you, dey sho slept good atter a hard days's wuk.
+
+"De bestest water dat ever was come from a spring right nigh our cabin
+and us had long-handled gourds to drink it out of. Some of dem gourds
+hung by de spring all de time and dere was allus one or two of 'em
+hangin' by de side of our old cedar waterbucket. Sho', us had a cedar
+bucket and it had brass hoops on it; dat was some job to keep dem hoops
+scrubbed wid sand to make 'em bright and shiny, and dey had to be clean
+and pretty all de time or mammy would git right in behind us wid a
+switch. Marse Gerald raised all dem long-handled gourds dat us used
+'stid of de tin dippers folks has now, but dem warn't de onliest kinds
+of gourds he growed on his place. Dere was gourds mos' as big as
+waterbuckets, and dey had short handles dat was bent whilst de gourds
+was green, so us could hang 'em on a limb of a tree in de shade to keep
+water cool for us when us was wukin' in de field durin' hot weather.
+
+"I never done much field wuk 'til de war come on, 'cause Mistess was
+larnin' me to be a housemaid. Marse Gerald and Miss Annie never had no
+chillun 'cause she warn't no bearin' 'oman, but dey was both mighty fond
+of little folks. On Sunday mornin's mammy used to fix us all up nice and
+clean and take us up to de big house for Marse Gerald to play wid. Dey
+was good christian folks and tuk de mostest pains to larn us chillun how
+to live right. Marster used to 'low as how he had done paid $500 for
+Ca'line but he sho wouldn't sell her for no price.
+
+"Evvything us needed was raised on dat plantation 'cept cotton. Nary a
+stalk of cotton was growed dar, but jus' de same our clothes was made
+out of cloth dat Mistess and my mammy wove out of thread us chillun
+spun, and Mistess tuk a heap of pains makin' up our dresses. Durin' de
+war evvybody had to wear homespun, but dere didn't nobody have no better
+or prettier dresses den ours, 'cause Mistess knowed more'n anybody 'bout
+dyein' cloth. When time come to make up a batch of clothes Mistess would
+say, 'Ca'line holp me git up my things for dyein',' and us would fetch
+dogwood bark, sumach, poison ivy, and sweetgum bark. That poison ivy
+made the best black of anything us ever tried, and Mistess could dye the
+prettiest sort of purple wid sweetgum bark. Cop'ras was used to keep de
+colors from fadin', and she knowed so well how to handle it dat you
+could wash cloth what she had dyed all day long and it wouldn't fade a
+speck.
+
+"Marster was too old to go to de war, so he had to stay home and he sho
+seed dat us done our wuk raisin' somepin t'eat. He had us plant all our
+cleared ground, and I sho has done some hard wuk down in dem old bottom
+lands, plowin', hoein', pullin' corn and fodder, and I'se even cut
+cordwood and split rails. Dem was hard times and evvybody had to wuk.
+
+"Sometimes Marse Gerald would be away a week at a time when he went to
+court at Jefferson, and de very last thing he said 'fore he driv off
+allus was, 'Ca'line, you and de chillun take good care of Mistess.' He
+most allus fetched us new shoes when he come back, 'cause he never kept
+no shoemaker man on our place, and all our shoes was store-bought. Dey
+was jus' brogans wid brass toes, but us felt powerful dressed up when us
+got 'em on, 'specially when dey was new and de brass was bright and
+shiny. Dere was nine of us chillun, four boys and five gals. Us gals had
+plain cotton dresses made wid long sleeves and us wore big sunbonnets.
+What would gals say now if dey had to wear dem sort of clothes and do
+wuk lak what us done? Little boys didn't wear nothin' but long shirts in
+summertime, but come winter evvybody had good warm clothes made out of
+wool off of Marse Gerald's own sheep, and boys, even little tiny boys,
+had britches in winter.
+
+"Did you ever see folks shear sheep, Child? Well, it was a sight in dem
+days. Marster would tie a sheep on de scaffold, what he had done built
+for dat job, and den he would have me set on de sheep's head whilst he
+cut off de wool. He sont it to de factory to have it carded into bats
+and us chillun spun de thread at home and mammy and Mistess wove it into
+cloth for our winter clothes. Nobody warn't fixed up better on church
+days dan Marster's Niggers and he was sho proud of dat.
+
+"Us went to church wid our white folks 'cause dere warn't no colored
+churches dem days. None of de churches 'round our part of de country had
+meetin' evvy Sunday, so us went to three diffunt meetin' houses. On de
+fust Sunday us went to Captain Crick Baptist church, to Sandy Crick
+Presbyterian church on second Sundays, and on third Sundays meetin' was
+at Antioch Methodist church whar Marster and Mistess was members. Dey
+put me under de watchkeer of deir church when I was a mighty little gal,
+'cause my white folks sho b'lieved in de church and in livin' for God;
+de larnin' dat dem two good old folks gimme is done stayed right wid me
+all through life, so far, and I aims to live by it to de end. I didn't
+sho 'nough jine up wid no church 'til I was done growed up and had left
+Marse Gerald; den I jined de Cedar Grove Baptist church and was baptized
+dar, and dar's whar I b'longs yit.
+
+"Marster was too old to wuk when dey sot us free, so for a long time us
+jus' stayed dar and run his place for him. I never seed none of dem
+Yankee sojers but one time. Marster was off in Jefferson and while I was
+down at de washplace I seed 'bout 12 men come ridin' over de hill. I was
+sho skeered and when I run and told Mistess she made us all come inside
+her house and lock all de doors. Dem Yankee mens jus' rode on through
+our yard down to de river and stayed dar a little while; den dey turned
+around and rid back through our yard and on down de big road, and us
+never seed 'em no more.
+
+"Soon atter dey was sot free Niggers started up churches of dey own and
+it was some sight to see and hear 'em on meetin' days. Dey would go in
+big crowds and sometimes dey would go to meetin's a fur piece off. Dey
+was all fixed up in deir Sunday clothes and dey walked barfoots wid deir
+shoes acrost deir shoulders to keep 'em from gittin' dirty. Jus' 'fore
+dey got to de church dey stopped and put on deir shoes and den dey was
+ready to git together to hear de preacher.
+
+"Folks don't know nothin' 'bout hard times now, 'specially young folks;
+dey is on de gravy train and don't know it, but dey is headed straight
+for 'struction and perdition; dey's gwine to land in dat burnin' fire if
+dey don't mind what dey's about. Jus' trust in de Lord, Honey, and cast
+your troubles on Him and He'll stay wid you, but if you turns your back
+on Him, den you is lost, plumb gone, jus' as sho as shelled corn.
+
+"When us left Marse Gerald and moved nigh Athens he got a old Nigger
+named Egypt, what had a big fambly, to live on his place and do all de
+wuk. Old Marster didn't last long atter us was gone. One night he had
+done let his farm hands have a big cornshuckin' and had seed dat dey had
+plenty of supper and liquor to go wid it and, as was de custom dem days,
+some of dem Niggers got Old Marster up on deir shoulders and toted him
+up to de big house, singin' as dey went along. He was jus' as gay as dey
+was, and joked de boys. When dey put him down on de big house porch he
+told Old Mistess he didn't want no supper 'cept a little coffee and
+bread, and he strangled on de fust bite. Mistess sont for de doctor but
+he was too nigh gone, and it warn't long 'fore he had done gone into de
+glory of de next world. He was 'bout 95 years old when he died and he
+had sho been a good man. One of my nieces and her husband went dar atter
+Marse Gerald died and tuk keer of Mistess 'til she went home to glory
+too.
+
+"Mammy followed Old Mistess to glory in 'bout 3 years. Us was livin' on
+de Johnson place den, and it warn't long 'fore me and George Kinney got
+married. A white preacher married us, but us didn't have no weddin'
+celebration. Us moved to de Joe Langford place in Oconee County, but
+didn't stay dar but one year; den us moved 'crost de crick into Clarke
+County and atter us farmed dar 9 years, us moved on to dis here place
+whar us has been ever since. Plain old farmin' is de most us is ever
+done, but George used to make some mighty nice cheers to sell to de
+white folks. He made 'em out of hick'ry what he seasoned jus' right and
+put rye split bottoms in 'em. Dem cheers lasted a lifetime; when dey got
+dirty you jus' washed 'em good and sot 'em in de sun to dry and dey was
+good as new. George made and sold a lot of rugs and mats dat he made out
+of plaited shucks. Most evvybody kep' a shuck footmat 'fore deir front
+doors. Dem sunhats made out of shucks and bulrushes was mighty fine to
+wear in de field when de sun was hot. Not long atter all ten of our
+chillun was borned, George died out and left me wid dem five boys and
+five gals.
+
+"Some old witch-man conjured me into marryin' Jordan Jackson. Dat's de
+blessed truth, Honey; a fortune-teller is done told me how it was done.
+I didn't want to have nothin' to do wid Jordan 'cause I knowed he was
+jus' a no 'count old drinkin' man dat jus' wanted my land and stuff.
+When he couldn't git me to pay him no heed hisself, he went to a old
+conjure man and got him to put a spell on me. Honey, didn't you know dey
+could do dat back in dem days? I knows dey could, 'cause I never woulda
+run round wid no Nigger and married him if I hadn't been witched by dat
+conjure business. De good Lord sho punishes folks for deir sins on dis
+earth and dat old man what put dat spell on me died and went down to
+burnin' hell, and it warn't long den 'fore de spell left me.
+
+"Right den I showed dat no 'count Jordan Jackson dat I was a good 'oman,
+a powerful sight above him, and dat he warn't gwine to git none of dis
+land what my chillun's daddy had done left 'em. When I jus' stood right
+up to him and showed him he warn't gwine to out whack me, he up and left
+me and I don't even use his name no more 'cause I don't want it in my
+business no way a t'all. Jordan's done paid his debt now since he died
+and went down in dat big old burnin' hell 'long wid de old witch man dat
+conjured me for him.
+
+"Yes, Honey, de Lord done put it on record dat dere is sho a burnin'
+place for torment, and didn't my Marster and Mistess larn me de same
+thing? I sho does thank 'em to dis day for de pains dey tuk wid de
+little Nigger gal dat growed up to be me, tryin' to show her de right
+road to travel. Oh! If I could jus' see 'em one more time, but dey can
+look down from de glory land and see dat I'se still tryin' to follow de
+road dat leads to whar dey is, and when I gits to dat good and better
+world I jus' knows de Good Lord will let dis aged 'oman be wid her dear
+Marster and Mistess all through de time to come.
+
+"Trust God, Honey, and He will lead you home to glory. I'se sho enjoyed
+talkin' to you, and I thanks you for comin'. I'se gwine to ax Him to
+take good keer of you and let you come back to cheer up old Nicey
+again."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE
+
+JULIA LARKEN, Age 76
+693 Meigs Street
+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
+
+
+Julia's small three-room cottage is a servant house at the rear of a
+white family's residence. A gate through an old-fashioned picket fence
+led into a spacious yard where dense shade from tall pecan trees was
+particularly inviting after a long walk in the sweltering heat.
+
+An aged mulatto woman was seated on the narrow porch. Her straight white
+hair was arranged in braids, and her faded print dress and enormous
+checked apron were clean and carefully patched. A pair of dark colored
+tennis shoes completed her costume. She arose, tall and erect, to greet
+her visitor. "Yessum, dis here's Julia Larken," she said with a friendly
+smile. "Come right in, Chile, and set here and rest on my nice cool
+porch. I knows you's tired plumb out. You shouldn't be out walkin'
+'round in dis hot sun--It ain't good for you. It'll make you have brain
+fever 'fore you knows it."
+
+When asked for the story of her life, Julia replied: "Lordy, Chile, did
+you do all dis walkin', hot as it is today, jus' to hear dis old Nigger
+talk? Well, jus' let me tell you, dem days back yonder 'fore de war was
+de happiest time of my whole life.
+
+"I don't know much 'bout slavery, 'cause I was jus' a little gal when de
+war ended. I was borned in war times on Marse Payton Sails' plantation,
+way off down in Lincoln County. My Ma was borned and bred right dar on
+dat same place. Marster bought my Daddy and his Mammy from Captain
+LeMars, and dey tuk de name of Sails atter dey come to live on his
+place. Mammy's name was Betsy Sails and Daddy was named Sam'l. Dey was
+married soon atter Marster fetched Daddy dar.
+
+"Dere ain't no tellin' how big Marster's old plantation was. His house
+set right on top of a high hill. His plantation road circled 'round dat
+hill two or three times gittin' from de big road to de top of de hill.
+Dere was a great deep well in de yard whar dey got de water for de big
+house. Marster's room was upstairs and had steps on de outside dat come
+down into de yard. On one side of his house was a fine apple orchard, so
+big dat it went all de way down de hill to de big road.
+
+"On de other side of de house was a large gyarden whar us raised
+evvything in de way of good veg'tables; dere was beans, corn, peas,
+turnips, collards, 'taters, and onions. Why dey had a big patch of
+nothin' but onions. Us did love onions. Dere was allus plenty of good
+meat in Marster's big old smokehouse dat stood close by de well.
+Marster, he believed in raisin' heaps of meat. He had cows, hogs, goats,
+and sheep, not to mention his chickens and turkeys.
+
+"All de cloth for slaves' clothes was made at home. Mammy was one of de
+cooks up at de big house, and she made cloth too. Daddy was de shoe man.
+He made de shoes for all de folks on de plantation.
+
+"De log cabins what de slaves lived in was off a piece from de big
+house. Dem cabins had rock chimblies, put together wid red mud. Dere
+warn't no glass in de windows and doors of dem cabins--jus' plain old
+home-made wooden shutters and doors." Julia laughed as she told of their
+beds. "Us called 'em four posters, and dat's what dey was, but dey was
+jus' plain old pine posties what one of de men on de plantation made up.
+Two posties at de head and two at de foot wid pine rails betwixt 'em was
+de way dey made dem beds. Dere warn't no sto'-bought steel springs dem
+days, not even for de white folks, but dem old cord springs went a long
+ways towards makin' de beds comfortable and dey holped to hold de bed
+together. De four poster beds de white folks slept on was corded too,
+but deir posties warn't made out of pine. Dey used oak and walnut and
+sometimes real mahogany, and dey carved 'em up pretty. Some of dem big
+old posties to de white folkses beds was six inches thick.
+
+"Slaves all et up at de big house in dat long old kitchen. I kin jus'
+see dat kitchen now. It warn't built on to de big house, 'cept it was at
+de end of a big porch dat went from it to de big house. A great big
+fireplace was 'most all de way 'cross one end of dat kitchen, and it had
+racks and cranes for de pots and pans and ovens but, jus' let me tell
+you, our Marster had a cookstove too. Yessum, it was a real sho' 'nough
+iron cookstove. No'm, it warn't 'zactly lak de stoves us uses now. It
+was jus' a long, low stove, widout much laigs, jus' flat on top wid eyes
+to cook on. De oven was at de bottom. Mammy and Grandma Mary was mighty
+proud of dat stove, 'cause dere warn't nobody else 'round dar what had a
+cookstove so us was jus' plumb rich folks.
+
+"Slaves didn't come to de house for dinner when dey was wukin' a fur
+piece off in de fields. It was sont to 'em, and dat was what kilt one of
+my brothers. Whilst it was hot, de cooks would set de bucket of dinner
+on his haid and tell him to run to de field wid it fore it got cold. He
+died wid brain fever, and de doctor said it was from totin' all dem hot
+victuals on his haid. Pore Brudder John, he sho' died out, and ever
+since den I been skeered of gittin' too hot on top of de haid.
+
+"Dere was twelve of Mammy's chillun in all, countin' Little Peter who
+died out when he was a baby. De other boys was John, Tramer, Sam'l,
+George, and Scott. De only one of my brothers left now is George,
+leastwise I reckon he's livin' yet. De last 'count I had of him he was
+in Chicago, and he must be 'bout a hundred years old now. De gals was me
+and Mary, 'Merica, Hannah, Betsy, and Emma.
+
+"'Fore Grandma Mary got too old to do all de cookin', Mammy wuked in de
+field. Mammy said she allus woke up early, and she could hear Marster
+when he started gittin' up. She would hurry and git out 'fore he had
+time to call 'em. Sometimes she cotch her hoss and rid to the field
+ahead of de others, 'cause Marster never laked for nobody to be late in
+de mornin'. One time he got atter one of his young slaves out in de
+field and told him he was a good mind to have him whupped. Dat night de
+young Nigger was tellin' a old slave 'bout it, and de old man jus'
+laughed and said: 'When Marster pesters me dat way I jus' rise up and
+cuss him out.' Dat young fellow 'cided he would try it out and de next
+time Marster got atter him dey had a rukus what I ain't never gwine to
+forgit. Us was all out in de yard at de big house, skeered to git a good
+breath when us heared Marster tell him to do somepin, 'cause us knowed
+what he was meanin' to do. He didn't go right ahead and mind Marster lak
+he had allus been used to doin'. Marster called to him again, and den
+dat fool Nigger cut loose and he evermore did cuss Marster out. Lordy,
+Chile, Marster jus' fairly tuk de hide off dat Nigger's back. When he
+tried to talk to dat old slave 'bout it de old man laughed and said:
+'Shucks, I allus waits 'til I gits to de field to cuss Marster so he
+won't hear me.'
+
+"Marster didn't have but two boys and one of 'em got kilt in de war. Dat
+sho'ly did hurt our good old Marster, but dat was de onliest diffunce de
+war made on our place. When it was over and dey said us was free, all de
+slaves stayed right on wid de Marster; dat was all dey knowed to do.
+Marster told 'em dey could stay on jus' as long as dey wanted to, and
+dey was right dar on dat hill 'til Marster had done died out and gone to
+Glory.
+
+"Us chillun thought hog killin' time wes de best time of all de year. Us
+would hang 'round de pots whar dey was rendin' up de lard and all day us
+et dem good old browned skin cracklin's and ash roasted 'taters. Marster
+allus kilt from 50 to 60 hogs at a time. It tuk dat much meat to feed
+all de folks dat had to eat from his kitchen. Little chillun never had
+nothin' much to do 'cept eat and sleep and play, but now, jus' let me
+tell you for sho', dere warn't no runnin' 'round nights lak dey does
+now. Not long 'fore sundown dey give evvy slave chile a wooden bowl of
+buttermilk and cornpone and a wooden spoon to eat it wid. Us knowed us
+had to finish eatin' in time to be in bed by de time it got dark.
+
+"Our homespun dresses had plain waisties wid long skirts gathered on to
+'em. In hot weather chillun wore jus' one piece; dat was a plain slip,
+but in cold weather us had plenty of good warm clothes. Dey wove cotton
+and wool together to make warm cloth for our winter clothes and made
+shoes for us to wear in winter too. Marster evermore did believe in
+takin' good keer of his Niggers.
+
+"I kin ricollect dat 'fore dere was any churches right in our
+neighborhood, slaves would walk 8 and 10 miles to church. Dey would git
+up 'way 'fore dawn on meetin' day, so as to git dar on time. Us wouldn't
+wear our shoes on dem long walks, but jus' went barfoots 'til us got
+nearly to de meetin' house. I jus' kin 'member dat, for chillun warn't
+'lowed to try to walk dat fur a piece, but us could git up early in de
+mornin' and see de grown folks start off. Dey was dressed in deir best
+Sunday go-to-meetin' clothes and deir shoes, all shined up, was tied
+together and hung over deir shoulders to keep 'em from gittin' dust on
+'em. [HW in margin: Sunday clothing] Men folks had on plain homespun
+shirts and jeans pants. De jeans what deir pants was made out of was
+homespun too. Some of de 'omans wore homespun dresses, but most of 'em
+had a calico dress what was saved special for Sunday meetin' wear.
+'Omans wore two or three petticoats all ruffled and starched 'til one or
+dem underskirts would stand by itself. Dey went barfoots wid deir shoes
+hung over deir shoulders, jus' lak de mens, and evvy 'oman pinned up her
+dress and evvy one of her petticoats but one to keep 'em from gittin'
+muddy. Dresses and underskirts was made long enough to touch de ground
+dem days. Dey allus went off singin', and us chillun would be wishin'
+for de time when us would be old enough to wear long dresses wid
+starched petticoats and go to meetin'. Us chillun tried our best to stay
+'wake 'til dey got home so us could hear 'em talk 'bout de preachin' and
+singin' and testifyin' for de Lord, and us allus axed how many had done
+jined de church dat day.
+
+"Long 'fore I was old enough to make dat trip on foot, dey built a
+Baptist church nearby. It was de white folkses church, but dey let deir
+own Niggers join dar too, and how us chillun did love to play 'round it.
+No'm, us never broke out no windows or hurt nothin' playin' dar. Us
+warn't never 'lowed to throw no rocks when us was on de church grounds.
+De church was up on top of a high hill and at de bottom of dat hill was
+de creek whar de white folks had a fine pool for baptizin'. Dey had
+wooden steps to go down into it and a long wooden trough leadin' from de
+creek to fill up de pool whenever dere was baptizin' to be done. Dey had
+real sermons in dat church and folks come from miles around to see dem
+baptizin's. White folks was baptized fust and den de Niggers. When de
+time come for to baptize dem Niggers you could hear 'em singin' and
+shoutin' a long ways off.
+
+"It jus' don't seem lak folks has de same sort of 'ligion now dey had
+dem days, 'specially when somebody dies. Den de neighbors all went to de
+house whar de corpse was and sung and prayed wid de fambly. De coffins
+had to be made atter folks was done dead. Dey measured de corpse and
+made de coffin 'cordin'ly. Most of 'em was made out of plain pine wood,
+lined wid black calico, and sometimes dey painted 'em black on de
+outside. Dey didn't have no 'balmers on de plantations so dey couldn't
+keep dead folks out long; dey had to bury 'em de very next day atter dey
+died. Dey put de corpse in one wagon and de fambly rode in another, but
+all de other folks walked to de graveyard. When dey put de coffin in de
+grave dey didn't have no sep'rate box to place it in, but dey did lay
+planks 'cross de top of it 'fore de dirt was put in. De preacher said a
+prayer and de folks sung _Harps from de Tomb_. Maybe several months
+later dey would have de funeral preached some Sunday.
+
+"Us had all sorts of big doin's at harvest time. Dere was cornshuckin's,
+logrollin's, syrup makin's, and cotton pickin's. Dey tuk time about from
+one big plantation to another. Evvy place whar dey was a-goin' to
+celebrate tuk time off to cook up a lot of tasty eatments, 'specially to
+barbecue plenty of good meat. De Marsters at dem diffunt places allus
+seed dat dere was plenty of liquor passed 'round and when de wuk was
+done and de Niggers et all dey wanted, dey danced and played 'most all
+night. What us chillun laked most 'bout it was de eatin'. What I 'member
+best of all is de good old corn risin' lightbread. Did you ever see any
+of it, Chile? Why, my Mammy and Grandma Mary could bake dat bread so
+good it would jus' melt in your mouth.
+
+"Mammy died whilst I was still little and Daddy married again. I guess
+his second wife had a time wid all of us chillun. She tried to be good
+to us, but I was skeered of her for a long time atter she come to our
+cabin. She larnt me how to make my dresses, and de fust one I made all
+by myself was a long sight too big for me. I tried it on and was plumb
+sick 'bout it bein' so big, den she said; 'Never mind, you'll grow to
+it.' Let me tell you, I got dat dress off in a hurry 'cause I was 'most
+skeered to death for fear dat if I kept it on it would grow to my skin
+lak I thought she meant. [HW in margin: Humor] I never put dat dress on
+no more for a long time and dat was atter I found out dat she jus' meant
+dat my dress would fit me atter I had growed a little more.
+
+"All us chillun used to pick cotton for Marster, and he bought all our
+clothes and shoes. One day he told me and Mary dat us could go to de
+store and git us a pair of shoes apiece. 'Course us knowed what kind of
+shoes he meant for us to git, but Mary wanted a fine pair of Sunday
+shoes and dat's what she picked out and tuk home. Me, I got brass-toed
+brogans lak Marster meant for us to git. 'Bout half way home Mary put on
+her shoes and walked to de big house in 'em. When Marster seed 'em he
+was sho' mad as a hornet, but it was too late to take 'em back to de
+store atter de shoes had done been wore and was all scratched up.
+Marster fussed: 'Blast your hide, I'm a good mind to thrash you to
+death.' Mary stood dar shakin' and tremblin', but dat's all Marster ever
+said to her 'bout it. Us heared him tell Mist'ess dat dat gal Mary was a
+right smart Nigger.
+
+"Marster had a great big old bull dat was mighty mean. He had real long
+horns, and he could lift de fence railin's down one by one and turn all
+de cows out. Evvy time he got out he would fight us chillun, so Marster
+had to keep him fastened up in de stable. One day when us wanted to play
+in de stable, us turned Old Camel (dat was de bull) out in de pasture.
+He tuk down rails enough wid his horns to let de cows in Marster's fine
+gyarden and dey et it all up. Marster was wuss dan mad dat time, but us
+hid in de barn under some hay 'til he went to bed. Next mornin' he
+called us all up to git our whuppin', but us cried and said us wouldn't
+never do it no more so our good old Marster let us off dat time.
+
+"Lak I done said before, I stayed on dar 'til Marster died, den I
+married Matthew Hartsfield. Lordy, Chile, us didn't have no weddin'. I
+had on a new calico dress and Matthew wore some new blue jeans breeches.
+De Reverend Hargrove, de white folks preacher, married us and nobody
+didn't know nothin' 'bout it 'til it was all over. Us went to Oglethorpe
+County and lived dar 19 years 'fore Matthew died. I wuked wid white
+folks dar 'til I married up wid Ben Larken and us come on here to Athens
+to live. I have done some wuk for 'most all de white folks 'round here.
+Ben's grandpappy was a miller on Potts Creek, nigh Stephens, and
+sometimes Ben used to have to go help him out wid de wuk, atter he got
+old and feeble.
+
+"Dey's all gone now and 'cept for some nieces, I'm left all alone. I kin
+still mind de chillun and even do a little wuk. For dat I do give thanks
+to de Good Lord--dat he keeps me able to do some wuk.
+
+"Goodbye Chile," said Julia, when her visitor arose to leave. "You must
+be more keerful 'bout walkin' 'round when de sun is too hot. It'll make
+you sick sho'. Folks jus' don't know how to take de right sort of keer
+of deyselves dese days."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5
+Ex-Slave #67
+E.F. Driskell
+12/31/36]
+
+[HW: GEORGE LEWIS]
+[Date Stamp: MAY 2- --]
+
+
+Mr. George Lewis was born in Pensacola, Florida December 17, 1849. In
+addition to himself and his parents, Sophie and Charles Lewis, there
+were thirteen other children; two of whom were girls. Mr. Lewis (Geo.)
+was the third eldest child.
+
+Although married Mr. Lewis' parents belonged to different owners.
+However, Dr. Brosenhan often allowed his servant to visit his wife on
+the plantation of her owner, Mrs. Caroline Bright.
+
+In regard to work all of the members of the Lewis clan fared very well.
+The father, who belonged to Dr. Brosenhan, was a skilled shipbuilder and
+he was permitted to hire himself out to those needing his services. He
+was also allowed to hire [HW: out] those children belonging to him who
+were old enough to work. He was only required to pay his master and the
+mistress of his children a certain percent of his earnings. On the
+Bright plantation Mrs. Lewis served as maid and as part of her duties
+she had to help with the cooking. Mr. Lewis and his brothers and sisters
+were never required to do very much work. Most of their time was spent
+in playing around in the yard of the big house.
+
+In answer to a query concerning the work requirements of the other
+slaves on this particular plantation Mr. Lewis replied "De sun would
+never ketch dem at de house. By de time it wus up dey had done got to de
+fiel'--not jes gwine. I've known men to have to wait till it wus bright
+enough to see how to plow without "kivering" the plants up. Dey lef' so
+early in de mornings dat breakfus' had to be sent to dem in de fiel'. De
+chillun was de ones who carried de meals dere. Dis was de first job dat
+I had. All de pails wus put on a long stick an' somebody hold to each
+end of de stick. If de fiel' hands was too far away fum de house at
+dinner time it was sent to dem de same as de breakfus'".
+
+All of the slaves on the plantation were awakened each morning by a
+bugle or a horn which was blown by the overseer. The same overseer gave
+the signal for dinner hour by blowing on the same horn. All were usually
+given one hour for dinner. None had to do any work after leaving the
+fields unless it happened to be personal work. No work other than the
+caring for the stock was required on Sundays.
+
+A few years before the Civil War Mrs. Bright married a Dr. Bennett
+Ferrel and moved to his home in Georgia (Troupe County).
+
+Mr. Lewis states that he and his fellow slaves always had "pretty fair"
+food. Before they moved to Georgia the rations were issued daily and for
+the most part an issue consisted of vegetables, rice, beans, meat
+(pork), all kinds of fish and grits, etc.
+
+"We got good clothes too says Mr. Lewis. All of 'em was bought. All de
+chillun wore a long shirt until dey wus too big an' den dey was given
+pants an' dresses. De shoes wus made out of red leather an' wus called
+brogans. After we moved to Georgia our new marster bought de cloth an'
+had all de clothes made on de plantation. De food wus "pretty fair" here
+too. We got corn bread an' biscuit sometimes--an' it was sometimes
+too--bacon, milk, all kinds of vegetables an' sicha stuff like dat. De
+flour dat we made de biscuits out of was de third grade shorts."
+
+The food on Sunday was almost identical with that eaten during the week.
+However, those who desired to were allowed to hunt as much as they
+pleased to at night. They were not permitted to carry guns and so when
+the game was treed the tree had to be cut down in order to get it. It
+was in this way that the family larder was increased.
+
+"All in all", says Mr. Lewis, "we got everything we wanted excep' dere
+wus no money comin' for our work an' we couldn't go off de place unless
+we asked. If you wus caught off your plantation without a permit fum
+marster de Paddy-Rollers whupped you an' sent you home."
+
+The slaves living quarters were located in the rear of the "big house"
+(this was true of the plantation located in Pensacola as well as the one
+in Georgia). All were made of logs and, according to Mr. Lewis, all were
+substantially built. Wooden pegs were used in the place of nails and the
+cracks left in the walls were sealed with mud and sticks. These cabins
+were very comfortable and only one family was allowed to a cabin. All
+floors were of wood. The only furnishings were the beds and one or two
+benches or bales which served as chairs. In some respects these beds
+resembled a scaffold nailed to the side of a house. Others were made of
+heavy wood and had four legs to stand upon. For the most part, however,
+one end of the bed was nailed to the wall. The mattresses were made out
+of any kind of material that a slave could secure, burlap sacks,
+ausenberg, etc. After a large bag had been made with this material it
+was stuffed with straw. Heavy cord running from side to side was used
+for the bed springs. The end of the cord was tied to a handle at the end
+of the bed. This pemitted the occupant to tighten the cord when it
+became loosened. A few cooking utensils completed the furnishings. All
+illumination was secured by means of the door and the open fire place.
+
+All of the slaves on the plantation were permitted to "frolic" whenever
+they wanted to and for as long a time as they wanted to. The master gave
+them all of the whiskey that they desired. One of the main times for a
+frolic was during a corn shucking. At each frolic there was dancing,
+fiddling, and eating. The next morning, however all had to be prepared
+to report as usual to the fields.
+
+All were required to attend church each Sunday. The same church was used
+by the slave owners and their slaves. The owners attended church in the
+morning at eleven o'clock and the slaves attended at three o'clock. A
+white minister did all of the preaching. "De bigges' sermon he
+preached", says Mr. Lewis, "was to read de Bible an' den tell us to be
+smart an' not to steal chickens, eggs, an' butter, fum our marsters."
+All baptising was done by this selfsame minister.
+
+When a couple wished to marry the man secured the permission of his
+intended wife's owner and if he consented, a broom was placed on the
+floor and the couple jumped over it and were then pronounced man and
+wife.
+
+There was not a great deal of whipping on the plantation of Dr. Ferrel
+but at such times all whippings were administered by one of the
+overseers employed on the plantation. Mr. Lewis himself was only whipped
+once and then by the Doctor. This was just a few days before the slaves
+were freed. Mr. Lewis says that the doctor came to the field one morning
+and called him. He told him that they were going to be freed but that
+before he did free him he was going to let him see what it was like to
+be whipped by a white man, and he proceeded to paddle him with a white
+oak paddle.
+
+When there was serious illness the slaves had the attention of Dr.
+Ferrel. On other occasions the old remedy of castor oil and turpentine
+was administered. There was very little sickness then according to Mr.
+Lewis. Most every family kept a large pot of "Bitters" (a mixture of
+whiskey and tree barks) and each morning every member of the family took
+a drink from this bucket. This supposedly prevented illness.
+
+When the war broke out Mr. Lewis says that he often heard the old folks
+whispering among themselves at night. Several times he saw the Northern
+troops as well as the Southern troops but he dos'nt know whether they
+were going or coming from the scene of the fighting. Doctor Ferrel
+joined the army but on three different occasions he deserted. Before
+going to war Dr. Ferrel called Mr. Lewis to him and after giving him his
+favorite horse gave him the following "charge" "Don't let the Yankees
+get him". Every morning Mr. Lewis would take the horse to the woods
+where he hid with him all day. On several occasions Dr. Ferrel slipped
+back to his home to see if the horse was being properly cared for. All
+of the other valuables belongings to the Ferrels were hidden also.
+
+All of the slaves on the plantation were glad when they were told that
+they were free but there was no big demonstration as they were somewhat
+afraid of what the Master might do. Some of them remained on the
+plantation while others of them left as soon as they were told that they
+were free.
+
+Several months after freedom was declared Mr. Lewis' father was able to
+join his family which he had not seen since they had moved to Georgia.
+
+When asked his opinion of slavery and of freedom Mr. Lewis said that he
+would rather be free because to a certain degree he is able to do as he
+pleases, on the other hand he did not have to worry about food and
+shelter as a slave as he has to do now at times.
+
+
+
+
+INTERVIEW WITH:
+MIRRIAM McCOMMONS, Age 76
+164 Augusta Avenue
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Miss Grace McCune
+Research Worker
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: APR 29 1938]
+
+
+It was a bright sunny day when the interviewer stopped at the home of
+Aunt Merry, as she is called, and found her tending her old-fashioned
+flower garden. The old Negress was tired and while resting she talked of
+days long passed and of how things have changed since she was "a little
+gal."
+
+"My pa wuz William Young, and he belonged to old Marse Wylie Young and
+later to young Marse Mack Young, a son of old marster. Pa wuz born in
+1841, and he died in 1918.
+
+"Ma wuz Lula Lumpkin, and she belonged to Marse Jack Lumpkin. I forgits
+de year, but she wuz jus' 38 years old when she died. Ma's young mistis
+wuz Miss Mirriam Lumpkin, and she wuz sho' good ter my ma. I 'members,
+'cause I seed her lots of times. She married Marse William Nichols, and
+she ain't been dead many years.
+
+"I wuz born at Steebens (Stephens), Georgia, in 1862 at seben 'clock in
+de mornin' on de 27th day of April. Yassum, I got here in time for
+breakfast. Dey named me Mirriam Young. When I wuz 'bout eight years old,
+us moved on de Bowling Green road dat runs to Lexin'ton, Georgia. Us
+stayed dar 'til I wuz 'bout 10 years old, den us moved to de old
+Hutchins place. I wukked in de field wid my pa 'til I wuz 'bout 'leben
+years old. Den ma put me out to wuk. I wukked for 25 dollars a year and
+my schoolin'. Den I nussed for Marse George Rice in Hutchins, Georgia. I
+think Marse George and his twin sister stays in Lexin'ton now. When I
+wuz twelve, I went to wuk for Marse John I. Callaway. Ma hired me for de
+same pay, 25 dollars a year and my schoolin'.
+
+"Missus Callaway sho' wuz good to me. Sha larnt me my books--readin' and
+writin'--and sewin', knittin', and crochetin'. I still got some of de
+wuk dat she larnt me to do." At this point Aunt Merry proudly displayed
+a number of articles that she had crocheted and knitted. All were
+fashioned after old patterns and showed fine workmanship. "Mistis larnt
+me to be neat and clean in evvything I done, and I would walk 'long de
+road a-knittin' and nebber miss a stitch. I just bet none of dese young
+folkses now days could do dat. Dey sho' don't do no wuk, just run 'round
+all de time, day and night. I don't know what'll 'come of 'em, lessen
+dey change deir ways.
+
+"Whilst I wuz still nussin' Missis' little gal and baby boy dey went
+down to Buffalo Crick to stay, and dey give me a pretty gray mare. She
+wuz all mine and her name wuz Lucy.
+
+"I tuk de chillun to ride evvy day and down at de crick, I pulled off
+dey clo'es and baptized 'em, in de water. I would wade out in de crick
+wid 'em, and say: 'I baptizes you in de name of de Fadder and de Son and
+de Holy Ghost.' Den I would souse 'em under de water. I didn't know
+nobody wuz seein' me, but one mornin' Missis axed me 'bout it and I
+thought she mought be mad but she just laughed and said dat hit mought
+be good for 'em, 'cause she 'spect dey needed baptizin', but to be
+keerful, for just on t'other side of de rock wuz a hole dat didn't have
+no bottom.
+
+"Dere wuz just two things on de place dat I wuz 'fraid of, and one wuz
+de big registered bull dat Marster had paid so much money for. He sho'
+wuz bad, and when he got out, us all stayed in de house 'til dey cotched
+'im. Marster had a big black stallion dat cost lots of money. He wuz bad
+too, but Marster kept 'im shut up most of de time. De wust I ever wuz
+skeert wuz de time I wuz takin' de baby to ride horseback. When one of
+de Nigger boys on de place started off on Marster's horse, my mare
+started runnin' and I couldn't stop 'er. She runned plumb away wid me,
+and when de boy cotched us, I wuz holdin' de baby wid one hand and de
+saddle wid t'other.
+
+"I sho' did have a big time once when us went to Atlanta. De place whar
+us stayed wuz 'bout four miles out, whar Kirkwood is now, and it
+belonged to Mrs. Robert A. Austin. She wuz a widder 'oman. She had a gal
+name' Mary and us chillun used to play together. It wuz a pretty place
+wid great big yards, and de mostes' flowers. Us used to go into Atlanta
+on de six 'clock 'commodation, and come home on de two 'clock
+'commodation, but evvythings changed now.
+
+"At de Callaway place us colored folks had big suppers and all day
+dinners, wid plenty to eat--chicken, turkey, and 'possum, and all de
+hogs us wanted. But dere warnt no dancin' or fightin', 'cause old Missis
+sho' didn't 'low dat.
+
+"I married when I wuz sebenteen. I didn't have no weddin'. I wuz just
+married by de preacher to Albert McCommons, at Hutchins. Us stayed at
+Steebens 'bout one year after us married and den come to Athens, whar I
+stays now. I ain't never had but two chillun; dey wuz twins, one died,
+but my boy is wid me now.
+
+"I used to nuss Miss Calline Davis, and she done got married and left
+here, but I still hears from 'er. She done married one of dem northern
+mens, Mr. Hope. I 'members one time whilst dey wuz visitin' I stayed wid
+'em to nuss deir baby. One of Mr. Hope's friends from New York wuz wid
+'em. When dey got to de train to go home, Miss Calline kissed me
+good-bye and de yankee didn't know what to say. Miss Calline say de
+yankees 'low dat southern folks air mean to us Niggers and just beat us
+all de time. Dey just don't know 'cause my white folkses wuz all good to
+me, and I loves 'em all."
+
+As the interviewer left, Aunt Merry followed her into the yard asking
+for a return visit and promising to tell more, "bout my good white
+folkses."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE
+
+As viewed by
+ED McCREE, Age 76
+543 Reese 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
+
+
+Ed McCree's home was pointed out by a little albino Negro girl about 10
+years old. The small front yard was gay with snapdragons, tiger lilies,
+dahlias, and other colorful flowers, and the two-story frame house,
+painted gray with white trimmings seemed to be in far better repair than
+the average Negro residence.
+
+Chewing on a cud of tobacco, Ed answered the knock on his front door.
+"Good evenin' Lady," he said. "Have a cheer on de porch whar it's cool."
+Ed is about five feet, six inches in height, and on this afternoon he
+was wearing a blue striped shirt, black vest, gray pants and black
+shoes. His gray hair was topped by a soiled gray hat.
+
+Nett, his wife, came hobbling out on the porch and sat down to listen to
+the conversation. At first the old man was reluctant to talk of his
+childhood experiences, but his interest was aroused by questioning and
+soon he began to eagerly volunteer his memories. He had just had his
+noon meal and now and then would doze a little, but was easily aroused
+when questions called him back to the subject.
+
+"I was borned in Oconee County," he said, "jus' below Watkinsville. My
+Ma and Pa was Louisa and Henry McCree, but Old Marster called Pa 'Sherm'
+for short. Far as I ever heared, my Ma and Pa was borned and brung up
+right dar in Oconee County. Dere was six of us chillun: Silas, Lumpkin,
+Bennie, Lucy, Babe, and me. Babe, she was borned a long time atter de
+war.
+
+"Little Niggers, what was too young to wuk in de fields, toted water to
+de field hands and waited on de old 'omans what was too old to wuk in de
+craps. Dem old 'omans looked atter de babies and piddled 'round de
+yards.
+
+"Slave quarters was lots of log cabins wid chimlies of criss-crossed
+sticks and mud. Pore white folks lived in houses lak dat too. Our bed
+was made wid high posties and had cords, what run evvy which a-way, for
+springs. 'Course dey had to be wound tight to keep dem beds from fallin'
+down when you tried to git in 'em. For mattresses, de 'omans put wheat
+straw in ticks made out of coarse cloth wove right dar on de plantation,
+and de pillows was made de same way. Ole Miss, she let her special
+favorite Niggers, what wuked up at de big house, have feather mattresses
+and pillows. Dem other Niggers shined dey eyes over dat, but dere warn't
+nothin' dey could do 'bout it 'cept slip 'round and cut dem feather beds
+and pillows open jus' to see de feathers fly. Kivver was 'lowanced out
+evvy year to de ones what needed it most. In dat way dere was allus good
+kivver for evvybody.
+
+"Grandma Liza b'longed to Marse Calvin Johnson long 'fore Marse John
+McCree buyed her. She was cook at de big house. Grandpa Charlie, he
+b'longed to Marse Charlie Hardin, but atter him and Grandma married, she
+still went by de name of McCree.
+
+"Lawdy Miss! Who ever heared of folks payin' slaves to wuk? Leastwise, I
+never knowed 'bout none of 'em on our place gittin' money for what dey
+done. 'Course dey give us plenty of somepin' t'eat and clothes to wear,
+and den dey made us keep a-humpin' it. I does 'member seein' dem paper
+nickels, dimes, and quarters what us chillun played wid atter de war. Us
+used to pretend us was rich wid all dat old money what warn't no good
+den.
+
+"'Bout dem eatments, Miss, it was lek dis, dere warn't no fancy victuals
+lak us thinks us got to have now, but what dere was, dere was plenty of.
+Most times dere was poke sallet, turnip greens, old blue head collards,
+cabbages, peas, and 'taters by de wholesale for de slaves to eat and,
+onct a week, dey rationed us out wheat bread, syrup, brown sugar, and
+ginger cakes. What dey give chillun de most of was potlicker poured over
+cornbread crumbs in a long trough. For fresh meat, outside of killin' a
+shoat, a lamb, or a kid now and den, slaves was 'lowed to go huntin' a
+right smart and dey fotch in a good many turkles (turtles), 'possums,
+rabbits, and fish. Folks didn't know what iron cookstoves was dem days.
+Leastwise, our white folks didn't have none of 'em. All our cookin' was
+done in open fireplaces in big old pots and pans. Dey had thick iron
+skillets wid heavy lids on 'em, and dey could bake and fry too in dem
+skillets. De meats, cornbread, biscuits, and cakes what was cooked in
+dem old skillets was sho' mighty good.
+
+"De cotton, flax, and wool what our clothes was made out of was growed,
+spun, wove, and sewed right dar on our plantation. Marse John had a
+reg'lar seamster what didn't do nothin' else but sew. Summertime us
+chillun wore shirts what looked lak nightgowns. You jus' pulled one of
+dem slips over your haid and went on 'cause you was done dressed for de
+whole week, day and night. Wintertime our clothes was a heap better. Dey
+give us thick jeans pants, heavy shirts, and brogan shoes wid brass
+toes. Summertime us all went bar'foots.
+
+"Old Marster John McCree was sho' a good white man, I jus' tells you de
+truf, 'cause I ain't in for tellin' nothin' else. I done jus' plum
+forgot Ole Miss' fust name, and I can't git up de chilluns' names no
+way. I didn't play 'round wid 'em much nohow. Dey was jus' little young
+chillun den anyhow. Dey lived in a big old plank house--nothin' fine
+'bout it. I 'members de heavy timbers was mortised together and de other
+lumber was put on wid pegs; dere warn't no nails 'bout it. Dat's all I
+ricollects 'bout dat dere house right now. It was jus' a common house,
+I'd say.
+
+"Dere was a thousand or more acres in dat old plantation. It sho' was a
+big piece of land, and it was plumb full of Niggers--I couldn't say how
+many, 'cause I done forgot. You could hear dat bugle de overseer blowed
+to wake up de slaves for miles and miles. He got 'em up long 'fore sunup
+and wuked 'em in de fields long as dey could see how to wuk. Don't talk
+'bout dat overseer whuppin' Niggers. He beat on 'em for most anything.
+What would dey need no jail for wid dat old overseer a-comin' down on
+'em wid dat rawhide bull-whup?
+
+"If dey got any larnin', it was at night. Dere warn't no school 'ouse or
+no church on dat plantation for Niggers. Slaves had to git a pass when
+dey wanted to go to church. Sometimes de white preacher preached to de
+Niggers, but most of de time a Nigger wid a good wit done de preachin'.
+Dat Nigger, he sho' couldn't read nary a word out of de Bible. At de
+baptizin's was when de Nigger boys shined up to de gals. Dey dammed up
+de crick to make de water deep enough to duck 'em under good and, durin'
+de service, dey sung: _It's de Good Old Time Religion_.
+
+"When folks died den, Niggers for miles and miles around went to de
+funeral. Now days dey got to know you mighty well if dey bothers to go a
+t'all. Dem days folks was buried in homemade coffins. Some of dem
+coffins was painted and lined wid cloth and some warn't. De onliest song
+I ricollects 'em singin' at buryin's was: _Am I Born to Lay Dis Body
+Down_? Dey didn't dig graves lak dey does now. Dey jus' dug straight
+down to 'bout five feet, den dey cut a vault to fit de coffin in de side
+of de grave. Dey didn't put no boards or nothin' over de coffins to keep
+de dirt off.
+
+"'Bout dem patterollers! Well, you knowed if dey cotched you out widout
+no pass, dey was gwine to beat your back most off and send you on home.
+One night my Pa 'lowed he would go to see his gal. All right, he went.
+When he got back, his cabin door was fastened hard and fast. He was
+a-climbin' in de window when de patterollers got to him. Dey 'lowed:
+'Nigger, is you got a pass?' Pa said: 'No Sir.' Den dey said: 'Us can't
+beat you 'cause you done got home on your marster's place, but us is
+sho' gwine to tell your Marster to whup your hide off. But Old Marster
+never tetched him for dat.
+
+"Atter dey come in from de fields, dem Niggers et deir supper, went to
+deir cabins, sot down and rested a little while, and den dey drapped
+down on de beds to sleep. Dey didn't wuk none Sadday atter dinner in de
+fields. Dat was wash day for slave 'omans. De mens done fust one thing
+and den another. Dey cleant up de yards, chopped wood, mended de
+harness, sharpened plow points, and things lak dat. Sadday nights, Old
+Marster give de young folks passes so dey could go from one place to
+another a-dancin' and a-frolickin' and havin' a big time gen'ally. Dey
+done most anything dey wanted to on Sundays, so long as dey behaved
+deyselfs and had deir passes handy to show if de patterollers bothered
+'em.
+
+"Yessum, slaves sho' looked forward to Christmas times. Dere was such
+extra good eatin's dat week and so much of 'em. Old Marster had 'em kill
+a plenty of shoats, lambs, kids, cows, and turkeys for fresh meat. De
+'omans up at de big house was busy for a week ahead cookin' peach puffs,
+'tater custards, and plenty of cakes sweetened wid brown sugar and
+syrup. Dere was plenty of home-made candy for de chilluns' Santa Claus
+and late apples and peaches had done been saved and banked in wheat
+straw to keep 'em good 'til Christmas. Watermelons was packed away in
+cottonseed and when dey cut 'em open on Christmas Dey, dey et lak fresh
+melons in July. Us had a high old time for a week, and den on New Year's
+Day dey started back to wuk.
+
+"Come winter, de mens had big cornshuckin's and dere was quiltin's for
+de 'omans. Dere was a row of corn to be shucked as long as from here to
+Milledge Avenue. Old Marster put a gang of Niggers at each end of de row
+and it was a hot race 'tween dem gangs to see which could git to de
+middle fust. Dere was allus a big feast waitin' for 'em when de last ear
+of corn was shucked. 'Bout dem quiltin's!" Now Lady, what would a old
+Nigger man know 'bout somepin' dat didn't nothin' but 'omans have
+nothin' to do wid?
+
+"Dem cotton pickin's was grand times. Dey picked cotton in de moonlight
+and den had a big feast of barbecued beef, mutton, and pork washed down
+wid plenty of good whiskey. Atter de feast was over, some of dem Niggers
+played fiddles and picked banjoes for de others to dance down 'til dey
+was wore out.
+
+"When slaves got sick, our white folks was mighty good 'bout havin' 'em
+keered for. Dey dosed 'em up wid oil and turpentine and give 'em teas
+made out of hoarhound for some mis'ries and bone-set for other troubles.
+Most all the slaves wore a sack of assfiddy (asafetida) 'round deir
+necks all de time to keep 'em from gittin' sick.
+
+"It was a happy day for us slaves when news come dat de war was over and
+de white folks had to turn us 'loose. Marster called his Niggers to come
+up to de big house yard, but I never stayed 'round to see what he had to
+say. I runned 'round dat place a-shoutin' to de top of my voice. My
+folks stayed on wid Old Marster for 'bout a year or more. If us had
+left, it would have been jus' lak swappin' places from de fryin' pan to
+de fire, 'cause Niggers didn't have no money to buy no land wid for a
+long time atter de war. Schools was soon scattered 'bout by dem Yankees
+what had done sot us free. I warn't big enough den to do nothin' much
+'cept tote water to de field and chop a little cotton.
+
+"Me and Nettie Freeman married a long time atter de war. At our weddin'
+I wore a pair of brown jeans pants, white shirt, white vest, and a
+cutaway coat. Nettie wore a black silk dress what she had done bought
+from Miss Blanche Rutherford. Pears lak to me it had a overskirt of blue
+what was scalloped 'round de bottom."
+
+At this point, Nettie, who had been an interested listener, was
+delighted. She broke into the conversation with: "Ed, you sho' did take
+in dat dress and you ain't forgot it yit."
+
+"You is right 'bout dat, Honey," he smilingly replied, "I sho' ain't and
+I never will forgit how you looked dat day."
+
+"Miss Blanche give me a pair of white silk gloves to wear wid dat
+dress," mused Nettie.
+
+"Us didn't have no sho' 'nough weddin'," continued Ed. "Us jus' went off
+to de preacher man's house and got married up together. I sho' is glad
+my Nett is still a-livin', even if she is down wid de rheumatiz."
+
+"I'm glad I'm livin' too," Nettie said with a chuckle.
+
+Ed ignored the question as to the number of their children and Nettie
+made no attempt to take further part in the conversation. There is a
+deep seated idea prevalent among old people of this type that if the
+"giver'ment folks" learn that they have able-bodied children, their
+pensions and relief allowances will be discontinued.
+
+Soon Ed was willing to talk again. "Yessum," he said. "I sho' had ruther
+be free. I don't never want to be a slave no more. Now if me and Nett
+wants to, us can set around and not fix and eat but one meal all day
+long. If us don't want to do dat, us can do jus' whatsomever us pleases.
+Den, us had to wuk whether us laked it or not.
+
+"Lordy Miss, I ain't never jined up wid no church. I ain't got no reason
+why, only I jus' ain't never had no urge from inside of me to jine.
+'Course, you know, evvybody ought to lissen to de services in de church
+and live right and den dey wouldn't be so skeered to die. Miss, ain't
+you through axin' me questions yit? I is so sleepy, and I don't know no
+more to tell you. Goodbye."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex Slave #68]
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:
+LUCY McCULLOUGH, Age 79
+
+BY: SARAH H. HALL
+ATHENS, GA.
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+[TR: This first half of this interview was edited by hand to change many
+'er' sounds to 'uh', for example, 'der' to 'duh', 'ter' to 'tuh'; as a
+single word, 'er' was also changed to 'a'.]
+
+
+"Does Ah 'member 'bout war time, en dem days fo' de war? Yassum, Ah sho'
+does. Ah blong ter Marse Ned Carter in Walton county."
+
+"Whut Ah 'members mos' is duh onliest beatin' Ah ebber got fum de
+overseer on Marse Ned's place. De hawgs wuz dyin' moughty bad wid
+cholry, en Marse Ned hed 'is mens drag evvy dead hawg off in de woods
+'en bun 'em up ter keep de cholry fum spreadin' mongst de udder hawgs.
+De mens wuz keerless 'bout de fire, en fo' long de woods wuz on fire, en
+de way dat fire spread in dem dry grape vines in de woods mek it 'peer
+lak jedgment day tuh us chilluns. Us run 'bout de woods lookin' at de
+mens fight de fire, en evvy time we see uh new place a-blaze we run dis
+way en dat way, twel fus' thing us knows, we is plum off Marse Ned's
+plantation, en us doan rightly know whar us is. Us play 'roun' in de
+woods en arter while Marse Ned's overseer cum fine us, en he druv us
+back tuh de big house yahd en give evvy one uv us uh good beaten'. Ah
+sho' wuz black en blue, en Ah nebber did fuhgit en run offen Marse Ned's
+lan' no mo' lessen I hed uh pass."
+
+"Mah mammy, she wuz cook at duh big house, en Ah wuz raised dah in de
+kitchen en de back yahd at de big house. Ah wuz tuh be uh maid fer de
+ladies in de big house. De house servants hold that dey is uh step
+better den de field niggers. House servants wuz niggah quality folks."
+
+Ah mus' not a been mo' en thee uh fo' yeahs ole when Miss Millie cum out
+in de kitchen one day, en 'gin tuh scold my mammy 'bout de sorry way
+mammy done clean de chitlins. Ah ain' nebber heard nobuddy fuss et my
+mammy befo'. Little ez Ah wuz, Ah swell up en rar' back, en I sez tuh
+Miss Millie, "Doan you no' Mammy is boss uh dis hyar kitchen. You cyan'
+cum a fussin' in hyar." "Miss Millie, she jus laff, but Mammy grab a
+switch en 'gin ticklin' my laigs, but Miss Millie mek her quit it." "Who
+wuz Miss Millie? Why, she wuz Marse Ned's wife."
+
+"Whilst Marse Ned wuz 'way at de war, bad sojer mens cum thoo de
+country. Miss Millie done hyar tell dey wuz on de way, an she had de
+mens haul all Marse Ned's cotton off in de woods en hide it. De waggins
+wuz piled up high wid cotton, en de groun' wuz soft atter de rain. De
+waggins leff deep ruts in de groun', but none us folks on de plantation
+pay no heed ter dem ruts. When de sojer mens cum, dey see dem ruts en
+trail 'em right out dar in de woods ter de cotton. Den dey sot fire ter
+de cotton en bun it all up. Dey cum back ter de big house en take all de
+sweet milk in de dairy house, en help 'emselfs ter evvy thing in de
+smoke houses. Den dey pick out de stronges' er Marse Ned's slave mens en
+take 'em 'way wid 'em. Dey take evvy good horse Marse Ned had on de
+plantation. No Ma'am, dey diden' bun nuffin ceppen' de cotton."
+
+"Us wuz mo' skeered er patter-rollers den any thing else. Patter-rollers
+diden' bodder folks much, lessen dey caught 'em offen dar marsters
+plantations en dey diden' hab no pass. One night en durin' de war, de
+patter-rollers cum ter our cabin, en I scrooge down under de kiver in de
+bed. De patter-roller man tho' de kiver offen mah face, en he see me
+blong dar, en he let me be, but Ah wuz skeered plumb ter death. Courtin'
+folks got ketched en beat up by de patter-rollers mo' den enny buddy
+else, kazen dey wuz allus slippen' out fer ter meet one er nudder at
+night."
+
+"When folks dat lived on diffunt plantations, en blonged ter diffunt
+marsters wanted ter git married, dey hed ter ax both dar marsters fus'.
+Den effen dar marsters 'gree on it, dey let 'em marry. De mans marster
+'ud give de man er pass so he cud go see his wife et night, but he sho'
+better be back on his own marsters farm when de bell ring evvy morning.
+De chilluns 'ud blong ter de marster dat own de 'oman."
+
+"Black folks wuz heap smarter den dey is now. Dem days de 'omans knowed
+how ter cyard, en spin, en weave de cloff, en dey made de close. De mens
+know how ter mek shoes ter wear den. Black folks diden' hev ter go cole
+er hongry den, kaze dey marsters made 'em wuk en grow good crops, en den
+der marsters fed 'em plenty en tuk keer uv 'em."
+
+"Black folks wuz better folks den dey is now. Dey knowed dey hed ter be
+good er dey got beat. De gals dey diden't sho' dare laigs lak dey do
+now. Cloff hed ter be made den, en hit wuz er heap mo' trouble ter mek
+er yahd er cloff, den it is ter buy it now, but 'omans en gals, dey
+stayed kivvered up better den. Why, Ah 'member one time my mammy seed me
+cummin' crost de yahd en she say mah dress too short. She tuk it offen
+me, en rip out de hem, en ravel at de aig' er little, en den fus' thing
+I knows, she got dat dress tail on ter de loom, en weave more cloff on
+hit, twel it long enuf, lak she want it."
+
+"Long 'bout dat time dey wuz killin' hawgs on de plantation, en it wuz
+er moughty cole day. Miss Millie, she tell me fer ter tote dis quart er
+brandy out dar fer ter warm up de mens dat wuz er wukkin in de cole
+win'. 'Long de way, Ah keep er sippin' dat brandy, en time Ah got ter de
+hawg killin' place Ah wuz crazy drunk en tryin' ter sing. Dat time
+'twon't no overseer beat me. Dem slave mens beat me den fo' drinkin' dat
+likker."
+
+"Mah folks stayed on en wukked fo' Marse Ned long atter de war. When Ah
+wuz mos' grown mah fam'ly moved ter Logansville. No, Ma'am, I ain't
+nebber been so free en happy es when I diden' hev ter worry 'bout whar
+de vittles en close gwine cum fum, en all Ah had ter do wuz wuk evvy day
+lak mah whitefolks tole me."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5 (Driskell)
+Ex Slave #69]
+
+AMANDA MCDANIEL, 80 yrs old
+Ex-slave
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Among these few remaining persons who have lived long enough to tell of
+some of their experiences during the reign of "King Slavery" in the
+United States is one Mrs. Amanda McDaniel.
+
+As she sat on the porch in the glare of the warm October sun she
+presented a perfect picture of the old Negro Mammy commonly seen during
+the days of slavery. She smiled as she expectorated a large amount of
+the snuff she was chewing and began her story in the following manner:
+"I was born in Watsonville, Georgia in 1850. My mother's name was
+Matilda Hale and my father was Gilbert Whitlew. My mother and father
+belonged to different master's, but the plantations that they lived on
+were near each other and so my father was allowed to visit us often. My
+mother had two other girls who were my half-sisters. You see--my mother
+was sold to the speculator in Virginia and brought to Georgia where she
+was sold to Mr. Hale, who was our master until freedom was declared.
+When she was sold to the speculator the two girls who were my
+half-sisters had to be sold with her because they were too young to be
+separated from their mother. My father, Gilbert Whitlew, was my mother's
+second husband.
+
+"Mr. Hale, our master, was not rich like some of the other planters in
+the community. His plantation was a small one and he only had eight
+servants who were all women. He wasn't able to hire an overseer and all
+of the heavy work such as the plowing was done by his sons. Mrs. Hale
+did all of her own cooking and that of the slaves too. In all Mr. Hale
+had eleven children. I had to nurse three of them before I was old
+enough to go to the field to work."
+
+When asked to tell about the kind of work the slaves had to do Mrs.
+McDaniel said: "Our folks had to get up at four o'clock every morning
+and feed the stock first. By the time it was light enough to see they
+had to be in the fields where they hoed the cotton and the corn as well
+as the other crops. Between ten and eleven o'clock everybody left the
+field and went to the house where they worked until it was too dark to
+see. My first job was to take breakfast to those working in the fields.
+I used buckets for this. Besides this I had to drive the cows to and
+from the pasture. The rest of the day was spent in taking care of Mrs.
+Hale's young children. After a few years of this I was sent to the
+fields where I planted peas, corn, etc. I also had to pick cotton when
+that time came, but I never had to hoe and do the heavy work like my
+mother and sisters did." According to Mrs. McDaniel they were seldom
+required to work at night after they had left the fields but when such
+occasions did arise they were usually in the form of spinning thread and
+weaving cloth. During the winter months this was the only type of work
+that they did. On days when the weather was too bad for work out of
+doors they shelled the corn and peas and did other minor types of work
+not requiring too much exposure. Nobody had to work on Saturday
+afternoons or on Sundays. It was on Saturdays or at night that the
+slaves had the chance to do their own work such as the repairing of
+clothing, etc.
+
+On the Hale plantation clothing was issued two times each year, once at
+the beginning of summer and again at the beginning of the winter season.
+On this first issue all were given striped dresses made of cotton
+material. These dresses were for wear during the week while dresses made
+of white muslin were given for Sunday wear. The dye which was necessary
+in order to color those clothes worn during the week was made by boiling
+red dirt or the bark of trees in water. Sometimes the indigo berry was
+also used. The winter issue consisted of dresses made of woolen
+material. The socks and stockings were all knitted. All of this wearing
+apparel was made by Mrs. Hale. The shoes that these women slaves wore
+were made in the nearby town at a place known as the tan yards. These
+shoes were called "Brogans" and they were very crude in construction
+having been made of very stiff leather. None of the clothing that was
+worn on this plantation was bought as everything necessary for the
+manufacture of clothing was available on the premises.
+
+As has been previously stated, Mrs. Hale did all of the cooking on the
+plantation with the possible exception of Sundays when the slaves cooked
+for themselves. During the week their diet usually consisted of corn
+bread, fat meat, vegetables, milk, and potliquor. The food that they ate
+on Sunday was practically the same. All the food that they ate was
+produced in the master's garden and there was a sufficient amount for
+everyone at all times.
+
+There were two one-room log cabins in the rear of the master's house.
+These cabins were dedicated to slave use. Mrs. McDaniel says: "The
+floors were made of heavy wooden planks. At one end of the cabin was the
+chimney which was made out of dried mud, sticks, and dirt. On the side
+of the cabin opposite the door there was a window where we got a little
+air and a little light. Our beds were made out of the same kind of wood
+that the floors were and we called them "Bed-Stilts." Slats were used
+for springs while the mattresses were made of large bags stuffed with
+straw. At night we used tallow candles for light and sometimes fat pine
+that we called light-wood. As Mrs. Hale did all of our cooking we had
+very few pots and pans. In the Winter months we used to take mud and
+close the cracks left in the wall where the logs did not fit close
+together."
+
+According to Mrs. McDaniel all the serious illnesses were handled by a
+doctor who was called in at such times. At other times Mr. or Mrs. Hale
+gave them either castor oil or salts. Sometimes they were given a type
+of oil called "lobelia oil." At the beginning of the spring season they
+drank various teas made out of the roots that they gathered in the
+surrounding woods. The only one that Mrs. McDaniel remembers is that
+which was made from sassafras roots. "This was good to clean the
+system," says Mrs. McDaniel. Whenever they were sick they did not have
+to report to the master's house each day as was the case on some of the
+other plantations. There were never any pretended illnesses to avoid
+work as far as Mrs. McDaniel knows.
+
+On Sunday all of the slaves on the Hale plantation were permitted to
+dress in their Sunday clothes and go to the white church in town. During
+the morning services they sat in the back of the church where they
+listened to the white pastor deliver the sermon. In the afternoon they
+listened to a sermon that was preached by a colored minister. Mrs.
+McDaniel hasn't the slightest idea of what these sermons were about.
+She remembers how marriages were performed, however, although the only
+one that she ever witnessed took place on one of the neighboring
+plantations. After a broom was placed on the ground a white minister
+read the scriptures and then the couple in the process of being married
+jumped over this broom. They were then considered as man and wife.
+
+Whippings were very uncommon the the Hale plantation. Sometimes Mr. Hale
+had to resort to this form of punishment for disobedience on the part of
+some of the servants. Mrs. McDaniel says that she was whipped many times
+but only once with the cowhide. Nearly every time that she was whipped a
+switch was used. She has seen her mother as well as some of the others
+punished but they were never beaten unmercifully. Neither she or any of
+the other slaves on the Hale plantation ever came in contact with the
+"Paddie-Rollers," whom they knew as a group of white men who went around
+whipping slaves who were caught away from their respective homes without
+passes from their masters. When asked about the buying and the selling
+of slaves Mrs. McDaniel said that she had never witnessed an auction at
+which slaves were being sold and that the only thing she knew about this
+was what she had been told by her mother who had been separated from her
+husband and sold in Georgia. Mr. Hale never had the occasion to sell any
+of those slaves that he held.
+
+Mrs. McDaniel remembers nothing of the talk that transpired between the
+slaves or her owners at the beginning of the war. She says: "I was a
+little girl, and like the other children then, I didn't have as much
+sense as the children of today who are of the age that I was then. I do
+remember that my master moved somewhere near Macon, Georgia after
+General Wheeler marched through. I believe that he did more damage than
+the Yanks did when they came through. When my master moved us along with
+his family we had to go out of the way a great deal because General
+Wheeler had destroyed all of the bridges. Besides this he damaged a
+great deal of the property that he passed." Continuing, Mrs. McDaniel
+said: "I didn't see any of the fighting but I did hear the firing of the
+cannons. I also saw any number of Confederate soldiers pass by our
+place." Mr. Hale didn't join the army although his oldest son did.
+
+At the time that the slaves were freed it meant nothing in particular to
+Mrs. McDaniel, who says that she was too young to pay much attention to
+what was happening. She never saw her father after they moved away from
+Watsonville. At any rate she and her mother remained in the service of
+Mr. Hale for a number of years after the war. In the course of this time
+Mr. Hale grew to be a wealthy man. He continued to be good to those
+servants who remained with him. After she was a grown woman Mrs.
+McDaniel left Mr. Hale as she was then married.
+
+Mrs. McDaniel says that she has reached such an old age because she has
+always taken care of herself, which is more than the young people of
+today are doing, she added as an after thought.
+
+
+
+
+Dist. 7
+Ex. Slave #74
+
+TOM McGRUDER, 102 years old
+Ex-Slave
+
+By Elizabeth Watson, Hawkinsville, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Tom McGruder, one of the oldest living ex-slaves in Pulaski County, was
+sitting on the porch of his son's home when we went in to see him. His
+grizzled old head began to nod a "Good morning" and his brown face
+became wreathed in smiles when he saw us.
+
+He looked very small as he sat in a low straight chair by the door. His
+shirt and overalls were ragged but spotlessly clean. On his feet were
+heavy shoes that were kept free from dirt. His complexion was not black
+as some of the other members of his race but was a light brown. There
+were very few wrinkles in his face considering the fact that he was one
+hundred and two years old in June. He spoke in a quiet voice though
+somewhat falteringly as he suffers greatly from asthma.
+
+"Were you born in this county, Uncle Tom?" we asked.
+
+"No mam, Missus," he replied. "Me and my mother and sister wuz brought
+from Virginia to this state by the speculators and sold here. I was only
+about eighteen or twenty and I was sold for $1250. My mother was given
+to one of Old Marster's married chillun.
+
+"You see, Missus," he spoke again after a long pause. "We wuz put on the
+block just like cattle and sold to one man today and another tomorrow. I
+wuz sold three times after coming to this state."
+
+Tom could tell us very little about his life on the large plantations
+because his feeble old mind would only be clear at intervals. He would
+begin relating some incident but would suddenly break off with, "I'd
+better leave that alone 'cause I done forgot." He remembered, however,
+that he trained dogs for his "whie folks," trained them to be good
+hunters as that was one of the favorite sports of the day.
+
+The last man to whom Tom was sold was Mr. Jim McGruder, of Emanuel
+County. He was living in a small cabin belonging to Mr. McGruder, when
+he married. "I 'members", said Tom, "That Old Marster and Missus fixed
+up a lunch and they and their chillun brought it to my cabin. Then they
+said, 'Nigger, jump the broom' and we wuz married, 'cause you see we
+didn't know nothing 'bout no cer'mony."
+
+It was with Mr. McGruder that Tom entered the army, working for him as
+his valet.
+
+"I wuz in the army for 'bout four years," Tom said. "I fought in the
+battles at Petersburg, Virginia and Chattanooga, Tennessee. I looked
+after Old Marster's shoes and clothes. Old Marster, what he done he done
+well. He was kind to me and I guess better to me sometimes than I
+deserved but I had to do what he told me."
+
+"Do you remember any of the old songs you used to sing?" we asked.
+"Missus, I can't sing no mo'," he replied. But pausing for a few minutes
+he raised his head and sang in a quiet voice, the words and melody
+perfectly clear;
+
+  "Why do you wait, dear brother,
+     Oh, why do you tarry so long?
+   Your Saviour is waiting to give you
+     A place in His sanctified throng."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by ex-slave
+
+SUSAN McINTOSH, Age 87
+1203 W. Hancook Avenue
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sadie B. Hornsby
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Ga.
+
+Edited by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+John N. Booth
+Augusta
+
+Leila Harris
+Augusta
+
+April 28, 1938
+[Date Stamp: MAY 6 1938]
+
+
+A driving rain sent the interviewer scurrying into the house of Susan
+McIntosh who lives with her son, Dr. Andrew Jones, at the corner of
+Hancock Avenue and Billups Street.
+
+Susan readily gave her story: "They tell me I was born in November
+1851," she said, "and I know I've been here a long time 'cause I've seen
+so many come and go. I've outlived 'most all of my folks 'cept my son
+that I live with now. Honey, I've 'most forgot about slavery days. I
+don't read, and anyway there ain't no need to think of them times now. I
+was born in Oconee County on Judge William Stroud's plantation. We
+called him Marse Billy. That was a long time before Athens was the
+county seat. Ma's name was Mary Jen, and Pa was Christopher Harris. They
+called him Chris for short. Marster Young L.G. Harris bought him from
+Marster Hudson of Elbert County and turned him over to his niece, Miss
+Lula Harris, when she married Marster Robert Taylor. Marse Robert was a
+son of General Taylor what lived in the Grady house before it belonged
+to Mr. Henry Grady's mother. Pa was coachman and house boy for Miss
+Lula.
+
+"Marse Billy owned Ma, and Marse Robert owned Pa, and Pa, he come to see
+Ma about once or twice a month. The Taylor's, they done a heap of
+travellin' and always took my Pa with 'em. Oh! there was thirteen of us
+chillun, seven died soon after they was born, and none of 'em lived to
+git grown 'cept me. Their names was Nanette and Ella, what was next to
+me; Susan--thats me; Isabelle, Martha, Mary, Diana, Lila, William, Gus,
+and the twins what was born dead; and Harden. He was named for a Dr.
+Harden what lived here then.
+
+"Marse Billy bought my gran'ma in Virginia. She was part Injun. I can
+see her long, straight, black hair now, and when she died she didn't
+have gray hair like mine. They say Injuns don't turn gray like other
+folks. Gran'ma made cloth for the white folks and slaves on the
+plantation. I used to hand her thread while she was weavin'. The lady
+what taught Gran'ma to weave cloth, was Mist'ess Gowel, and she was a
+foreigner, 'cause she warn't born in Georgia. She had two sons what run
+the factory between Watkinsville and Athens. My aunt, Mila Jackson, made
+all the thread what they done the weavin' with. Gran'pa worked for a
+widow lady what was a simster (seamstress) and she just had a little
+plantation. She was Mist'ess Doolittle. All Gran'pa done was cut wood,
+'tend the yard and gyarden. He had rheumatism and couldn't do much.
+
+"There ain't much to tell about what we done in the slave quarters,
+'cause when we got big enough, we had to work: nussin' the babies,
+totin' water, and helpin' Gran'ma with the weavin', and such like. Beds
+was driv to the walls of the cabin; foot and headboard put together with
+rails, what run from head to foot. Planks was laid crossways and straw
+put on them and the beds was kivvered with the whitest sheets you ever
+seen. Some made pallets on the floor.
+
+"No, Ma'am, I didn't make no money 'til after freedom. I heard tell of
+ten and fifteen cents, but I didn't know nothing 'bout no figgers. I
+didn't know a nickel from a dime them days.
+
+"Yes, Ma'am, Marse Billy 'lowed his slaves to have their own gyardens,
+and 'sides plenty of good gyarden sass, we had milk and butter, bread
+and meat, chickens, greens, peas, and just everything that growed on the
+farm. Winter and summer, all the food was cooked in a great big
+fireplace, about four feet wide, and you could put on a whole stick of
+cord wood at a time. When they wanted plenty of hot ashes to bake with,
+they burnt wood from ash trees. Sweet potatoes and bread was baked in
+the ashes. Seems like vittuls don't taste as good as they used to, when
+we cooked like that. 'Possums, Oh! I dearly love 'possums. My cousins
+used to catch 'em and when they was fixed up and cooked with sweet
+potatoes, 'possum meat was fit for a king. Marse Billy had a son named
+Mark, what was a little bitty man. They said he was a dwarf. He never
+done nothing but play with the children on the plantation. He would take
+the children down to the crick what run through the plantation and fish
+all day. We had rabbits, but they was most generally caught in a box
+trap, so there warn't no time wasted a-huntin' for 'em.
+
+"In summer, the slave women wore white homespun and the men wore pants
+and shirts made out of cloth what looked like overall cloth does now. In
+winter, we wore the same things, 'cept Marse Billy give the men woolen
+coats what come down to their knees, and the women wore warm wraps what
+they called sacks. On Sunday we had dresses dyed different colors. The
+dyes were made from red clay and barks. Bark from pines, sweetgums, and
+blackjacks was boiled, and each one made a different color dye. The
+cloth made at home was coarse and was called 'gusta cloth. Marse Billy
+let the slaves raise chickens, and cows, and have cotton patches too.
+They would sell butter, eggs, chickens, brooms, made out of wheat straw
+and such like. They took the money and bought calico, muslin and good
+shoes, pants, coats and other nice things for their Sunday clothes.
+Marse Billy bought leather from Marster Brumby's tanyard and had shoes
+made for us. They was coarse and rough, but they lasted a long time.
+
+"My Marster was father-in-law of Dr. Jones Long. Marse Billy's wife,
+Miss Rena, died long before I was born. Their six children was all grown
+when I first knowed 'em. The gals was: Miss Rena, Miss Selena, Miss
+Liza, and Miss Susan. Miss Susan was Dr. Long's wife. I was named for
+her. There was two boys; Marse John and Marse Mark. I done told you
+'bout Marse Mark bein' a dwarf. They lived in a big old eight room
+house, on a high hill in sight of Mars Hill Baptist Church. Marse Billy
+was a great deacon in that church. Yes, Ma'am, he sho' was good to his
+Negroes. I heard 'em say that after he had done bought his slaves by
+working in a blacksmith shop, and wearin' cheap clothes, like mulberry
+suspenders, he warn't goin' to slash his Negroes up. The older folks
+admired Mist'ess and spoke well of her. They said she had lots more
+property than Marse Billy. She said she wanted Marse Billy to see that
+her slaves was give to her children. I 'spose there was about a hundred
+acres on that plantation and Marse Billy owned more property besides.
+There was about fifty grown folks and as to the children, I just don't
+know how many there was. Around the quarters looked like a little town.
+
+"Marse Billy had a overseer up to the time War broke out, then he picked
+out a reliable colored man to carry out his orders. Sometimes the
+overseer got rough, then Marse Billy let him go and got another one. The
+overseer got us up about four or five o'clock in the morning, and dark
+brought us in at night.
+
+"Jails! Yes, Ma'am, I ricollect one was in Watkinsville. No, Ma'am, I
+never saw nobody auctioned off, but I heard about it. Men used to come
+through an buy up slaves for foreign states where there warn't so many.
+
+"Well, I didn't have no privilege to learn to read and write, but the
+white lady what taught my gran'ma to weave, had two sons what run the
+factory, and they taught my uncles to read and write.
+
+"There warn't no church on the plantation, so we went to Mars Hill
+Church. The white folks went in the mornings from nine 'til twelve and
+the slaves went in the evenings from three 'till about five. The white
+folks went in the front door and slaves used the back door. Rev. Bedford
+Lankford, what preached to the white folks helped a Negro, named Cy
+Stroud, to preach to the Negroes. Oh! Yes, Ma'am, I well remembers them
+baptizings. I believe in church and baptizing.
+
+"They buried the slaves on the plantation, in coffins made out of pine
+boards. Didn't put them in two boxes lak dey does now, and dey warn't
+painted needer.
+
+"Did you say patterollers? Sho' I seen 'em, but they didn't come on our
+plantation, 'cause Marse Billy was good to his Negroes and when they
+wanted a pass, if it was for a good reason, he give 'em one. Didn't none
+of Marse Billy's slaves run off to no North. When Marse Billy had need
+to send news somewhere, he put a reliable Negro on a mule and sent him.
+I sho' didn't hear about no trouble twixt white folks and Negroes.
+
+"I tell you, Honey, when the days work was over them slaves went to bed,
+'cep' when the moon was out and they worked in their own cotton patches.
+On dark nights, the women mended and quilted sometimes. Not many worked
+in the fields on Saturday evenin's. They caught up on little jobs aroun'
+the lot; a mending harness and such like. On Saturday nights the young
+folks got together and had little frolics and feasts, but the older
+folks was gettin' things ready for Sunday, 'cause Marse Billy was a
+mighty religious man: we had to go to church, and every last one of the
+children was dragged along too.
+
+"We always had one week for Christmas. They brought us as much of good
+things to eat as we could destroy in one week, but on New Year's Day we
+went back to work. No, Ma'am, as I ricollect, we didn't have no corn
+shuckings or cotton pickings only what we had to do as part of our
+regular work.
+
+"The white folks mostly got married on Wednesday or Thursday evenin's.
+Oh! they had fine times, with everything good to eat, and lots of
+dancing too. Then they took a trip. Some went to Texas and some to
+Chicago. They call Chicago, the colored folks' New York now. I don't
+remember no weddings 'mongst the slaves. My cousin married on another
+plantation, but I warn't there.
+
+"Where I was, there warn't no playing done, only 'mongst the little
+chillun, and I can't remember much that far back. I recall that we sung
+a little song, about:
+
+  'Little drops of water
+   Little grains of sand,
+   Make the mighty ocean
+   And the pleasant land.'
+
+"Oh! Yes, Ma'am, Marse Billy was good to his slaves, when they got sick.
+He called in Dr. Jones Long, Dr. Harden, and Dr. Lumpkin when they was
+real sick. There was lots of typhoid fever then. I don't know nothing
+about no herbs, they used for diseases; only boneset and hoarhound tea
+for colds and croup. They put penrile (pennyroyal) in the house to keep
+out flies and fleas, and if there was a flea in the house he would shoo
+from that place right then and there.
+
+"The old folks put little bags of assfiddy (assafoetida) around their
+chillun's necks to keep off measles and chickenpox, and they used
+turpentine and castor oil on chillun's gums to make 'em teethe easy.
+When I was living on Milledge Avenue, I had Dr. Crawford W. Long to see
+about one of my babies, and he slit that baby's gums so the teeth could
+come through. That looked might bad to me, but they don't believe in old
+ways no more."
+
+She laughed and said: "No, Ma'am, I don't know nothing about such low
+down things as hants and ghosts! Rawhead and Bloody Bones, I just
+thought he was a skelerpin, with no meat on him. Course lots of Negroes
+believe in ghosts and hants. Us chillun done lots of flightin' like
+chillun will do. I remember how little Marse Mark Stroud used to take
+all the little boys on the plantation and teach 'em to play Dixie on
+reeds what they called quills. That was good music, but the radio has
+done away with all that now.
+
+"I knowed I was a slave and that it was the War that sot me free. It was
+'bout dinner time when Marse Billy come to the door and called us to the
+house. He pulled out a paper and read it to us, and then he said: 'You
+all are free, as I am.' We couldn't help thinking about what a good
+marster he always had been, and how old, and feeble, and gray headed he
+looked as he kept on a-talkin' that day. 'You all can stay on here with
+me if you want to,' he 'lowed, 'but if you do, I will have to pay you
+wages for your work.'
+
+"I never saw no Yankees in Athens, but I was in Atlanta at Mrs.
+Winship's on Peachtree Street, when General Sherman come to that town
+'parin' his men for to go home. There was about two thousand in all,
+white and black. They marched up and down Marietta Street from three
+o'clock in the evening 'til seven o'clock next morning. Then they left.
+I remember well that there warn't a house left standing in Atlanta, what
+warn't riddled with shell holes. I was scared pretty nigh to death and I
+never want to leave home at no time like that again. But Pa saw 'em soon
+after that in Athens. They was a marching down Broad Street on their way
+to Macon, and Pa said it looked like a blue cloud going through.
+
+"Ma and me stayed on with Marse Billy 'bout six months after the War
+ended before we come to town to live with Pa. We lived right back of
+Rock College and Ma took in washin' for the folks what went to school
+there. No, Ma'am I never saw no Ku Kluxers. Me and Ma didn't leave home
+at night and the white folks wouldn't let 'em git Pa.
+
+"Major Knox brought three or four teachers to teach in a school for
+Negroes that was started up here the first year after the War. Major
+Knox, he was left like a sort of Justice of Peace to get things to going
+smooth after the War. I went to school there about three months, then Ma
+took sick, and I didn't go no more. My white teacher was Miss Sarah, and
+she was from Chicago.
+
+"Now and then the Negroes bought a little land, and white folks gave
+little places to some Negroes what had been good slaves for 'em.
+
+"I didn't take in about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. A long time after the War,
+I heard 'em say he got killed. I knowed Mr. Jeff. Davis was President of
+the Confederacy. As for Booker Washington, I never saw him, but I heard
+his son whan he was here once and gave a musical of some sort at the
+Congregational Church.
+
+"I was a old gal when I married 'bout thirty or forty years after the
+War. I married George McIntosh. Wedding clothes!" she chuckled, and
+said: "I didn't have many. I bought 'em second hand from Mrs. Ed. Bond.
+They was nice though. The dress I married in was red silk. We had a
+little cake and wine; no big to do, just a little fambly affair. Of our
+four chillun, two died young, and two lived to git grown. My daughter
+was a school teacher and she has been dead sometime. I stays wid my only
+living child. My husban' died a long time ago.
+
+"I cooked and washed for Mr. Prince Hodgson for thirty years. Miss Mary
+Franklin used to tell me 'bout all them strange places she had been to
+while she was paintin'. There never was nobody in this town could paint
+prettier pictures than Miss Mary's.
+
+"I'm glad slavery is over. I'm too old to really work anymore, but I'm
+like a fish going down the crick and if he sees a bug he will catch him
+if he can.
+
+"I joined the church 'cause I believe in the Son of God. I know he is a
+forgiving God, and will give me a place to rest after I am gone from the
+earth. Everybody ought to 'pare for the promised land, where they can
+live always after they are done with this world."
+
+After the interview, she said: "Honey, this is the most I have talked
+about slavery days in twelve years; and I believe what I told you is
+right. Of course, lots has faded from my mind about it now."
+
+
+
+
+District #7
+Adella S. Dixon, Macon, Georgia
+
+MATILDA McKINNEY
+100 Empire Avenue, Macon, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: JUL 28 1937]
+
+
+Matilda McKinney was born in Texas but was brought to southwest Georgia,
+near Albany, at an early age. Her mother, Amy Dean, had eight children,
+of which Aunt Matilda is the eldest. The plantation on which they lived
+was owned by Mr. Milton Ball, and it varied little in size or
+arrangement from the average one of that time. Here was found the usual
+two-story white house finished with high columns and surrounded by
+trees.
+
+Most of the Negro mothers did field work, so it was necessary for others
+to care for the children. Mr. Ball handled this problem in the usual
+way. He established what would today be called a day nursery. Each
+mother brought her offspring to the home of an elderly woman before
+leaving for her day's work. Here, they were safely kept until their
+parents returned. The midday meal for everyone was prepared at the Big
+House and the slaves were served from huge tubs of vegetables and pots
+of meat. "Aunt" Julia was responsible for the children's noon meal.
+
+When "Aunt" Matilda was old enough to do a little work, she was moved
+into the house where she swept floors, waited on the table, and fanned
+flies while a meal was being served. The adult females who lived in the
+house did most of the weaving and sewing. All the summer, garments were
+made and put away for winter use. Two dresses of osnaburg were then
+given each person.
+
+The field hands, always considered an inferior group by the house
+servants, worked from sunup to sundown. When they returned from the
+fields they prepared supper for their families and many times had to
+feed the children in the dark, for a curfew horn was blown and no lights
+could be lighted after its warning note had sounded. There was very
+little visiting to or from the group which dwelt here, as the curfew
+hour was early.
+
+Saturday varied a little from the other week days. The field work was
+suspended in the afternoon to allow the mothers time to wash their
+clothing. With sunset came the preparations for the weekly frolic. A
+fiddler furnished music while the dancers danced numerous square dances
+until a late hour.
+
+Home remedies for illness were used much more extensively than any
+doctor's medicine. Teas, compounded from sage, boneset, tansy, and
+mullen, usually sufficed for any minor sickness, and serious illness was
+rare.
+
+Food was distributed on Sunday morning. Two-and-a-half pounds of meat, a
+quantity of syrup, and a peck of meal were given each adult for the
+week. A special ration for Sunday alone was potatoes, buttermilk, and
+material for biscuits. Each family had its own garden from which a
+supply of vegetables could always be obtained in season. The smaller
+children had additional delicacies, for they early learned that the
+house where produce was kept had holes in the floor which yielded
+peanuts, etc, when punched with a stick.
+
+"Aunt" Matilda was unable to give any information regarding the war, but
+remembers that her family remained at her former owner's plantation for
+some time after they were freed. She now lives with her granddaughter
+who takes excellent care of her. Her long life is attributed to her
+habit of going to bed early and otherwise caring for herself properly.
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE
+
+WILLIAM McWHORTER, Age 78
+383 W. Broad Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Mrs. Sadie B. Hornsby
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers'
+Project
+Residencies 6 & 7
+Augusta, Ga.
+
+Sept. 30, 1938
+
+
+The rambling, one-story frame building where William McWhorter makes his
+home with his cousin, Sarah Craddock, houses several families and is
+proudly referred to by the neighbors as "de 'partment house."
+
+William, better known as "Shug," is a very black man of medium build. He
+wore a black slouch hat pulled well down over tangled gray hair, a dingy
+blue shirt, soiled gray pants, and black shoes. The smile faded from his
+face when he learned the nature of the visit. "I thought you was de
+pension lady 'comin' to fetch me some money," he said, "and 'stid of dat
+you wants to know 'bout slavery days. I'se disapp'inted.
+
+"Mistess, it's been a long time since I was born on Marse Joe
+McWhorter's plantation down in Greene County and I was jus' a little
+fellow when slavery was done over wid. Allen and Martha McWhorter was my
+ma and pa. Pa, he was de carriage driver, and ma, she was a field hand.
+Dey brought her here from Oingebug (Orangeburg), South Carolina, and
+sold her to Marse Joe when she was jus' a little gal. Me and Annie,
+Ella, Jim, and Tom was all de chillun in our fambly, and none of us
+warn't big enough to do no wuk to speak of 'fore de end of de big war.
+You see, Mistess, it was lak dis; Marse Joe, he owned a old 'oman what
+didn't do nothin' 'cept stay at de house and look atter us chillun, and
+dat was one of dem plantations whar dere was sho a heap of slave
+chillun.
+
+"'Bout our houses? Mistess, I'se gwine to tell you de trufe, dem houses
+slaves had to live in, dey warn't much, but us didn't know no better
+den. Dey was jus' one-room log cabins wid stick and dirt chimblies. De
+beds for slaves was home-made and was held together wid cords wove evvy
+which away. If you didn't tighten dem cords up pretty offen your bed was
+apt to fall down wid you. Suggin sacks was sewed together to make our
+mattress ticks and dem ticks was filled wid straw. Now, don't tell me
+you ain't heared of suggin sacks a-fore! Dem was coarse sacks sort of
+lak de guano sacks us uses now. Dey crowded jus' as many Niggers into
+each cabin as could sleep in one room, and marriage never meant a thing
+in dem days when dey was 'rangin' sleepin' quarters for slaves. Why, I
+knowed a man what had two wives livin' in de same cabin; one of dem
+'omans had all boys and t'other one didn't have nothin' but gals. It's
+nigh de same way now, but dey don't live in de same house if a man's got
+two famblies.
+
+"I 'members dat my pa's ma, Grandma Cindy, was a field hand, but by de
+time I was old 'nough to take things in she was too old for dat sort of
+wuk and Marster let her do odd jobs 'round de big house. De most I seed
+her doin' was settin' 'round smokin' her old corncob pipe. I was named
+for Grandpa Billy, but I never seed him.
+
+"Mistess, does you know what you'se axin'? Whar was slaves to git money
+whilst dey was still slaves? Dere warn't but a few of 'em dat knowed
+what money even looked lak 'til atter dey was made free.
+
+"Now, you is talkin' 'bout somepin sho 'nough when you starts 'bout dem
+victuals. Marse Joe, he give us plenty of sich as collards, turnips and
+greens, peas, 'taters, meat, and cornbread. Lots of de cornbread was
+baked in pones on spiders, but ashcakes was a mighty go in dem days.
+Marster raised lots of cane so as to have plenty of good syrup. My pa
+used to 'possum hunt lots and he was 'lowed to keep a good 'possum hound
+to trail 'em wid. Rabbits and squirrels was plentiful and dey made
+mighty good eatin'. You ain't never seed sich heaps of fish as slaves
+used to fetch back atter a little time spent fishin' in de cricks and de
+river.
+
+"De kitchen was sot off from de big house a little piece, but Old
+Marster had a roof built over de walkway so fallin' weather wouldn't
+spile de victuals whilst dey was bein' toted from de kitchen in de yard
+to de dinin' room in de big house. I don't reckon you ever seed as big a
+fireplace as de one dey cooked on in dat old kitchen. It had plenty of
+room for enough pots, skillets, spiders, and ovens to cook for all de
+folks on dat plantation. No, mam, slaves never had no gardens of deir
+own; dey never had no time of deir own to wuk no garden, but Old Marster
+fed 'em from his garden and dat was big enough to raise plenty for all.
+
+"De one little cotton shirt dat was all chillun wore in summertime den
+warn't worth talkin' 'bout; dey called it a shirt but it looked more lak
+a long-tailed nightgown to me. For winter, our clothes was made of wool
+cloth and dey was nice and warm. Mistess, slaves never knowed what
+Sunday clothes was, 'cept dey did know dey had to be clean on Sunday. No
+matter how dirty you went in de week-a-days, you had to put on clean
+clothes Sunday mornin'. Uncle John Craddock made shoes for all de grown
+folks on our plantation, but chillun went barfoots and it never seemed
+to make 'em sick; for a fact, I b'lieves dey was stouter den dan dey is
+now.
+
+"Marse Joe McWhorter and his wife, Miss Emily Key, owned us, and dey was
+jus' as good to us as dey could be. Mistess, you knows white folks had
+to make slaves what b'longed to 'em mind and be-have deyselfs in dem
+days or else dere woulda been a heap of trouble. De big fine house what
+Marse Joe and his fambly lived in sot in a cedar grove and Woodville was
+de town nighest de place. Oh! Yes, mam, dey had a overseer all right,
+but I'se done forgot his name, and somehow I can't git up de names of
+Marse Joe's chillun. I'se been sick so long my mem'ry ain't as good as
+it used to be, and since I lost my old 'oman 'bout 2 months ago, I don't
+'spect I ever kin reckomember much no more. It seems lak I'se done told
+you my pa was Marse Joe's carriage driver. He driv de fambly
+whar-some-ever dey wanted to go.
+
+"I ain't got no idee how many acres was in dat great big old plantation,
+but I'se heared 'em say Marse Joe had to keep from 30 to 40 slaves, not
+countin' chillun, to wuk dat part of it dat was cleared land. Dey told
+me, atter I was old enough to take it in, dat de overseer sho did drive
+dem slaves; dey had to be up and in de field 'fore sunup and he wuked
+'em 'til slap, black dark. When dey got back to de big house, 'fore dey
+et supper, de overseer got out his big bull whip and beat de ones dat
+hadn't done to suit him durin' de day. He made 'em strip off deir
+clothes down to de waist, and evvywhar dat old bull whip struck it split
+de skin. Dat was awful, awful! Sometimes slaves dat had been beat and
+butchered up so bad by dat overseer man would run away, and next day
+Aunt Suke would be sho to go down to de spring to wash so she could
+leave some old clothes dar for 'em to git at night. I'se tellin' you,
+slaves sho did fare common in dem days.
+
+"My Aunt Mary b'longed to Marse John Craddock and when his wife died and
+left a little baby--dat was little Miss Lucy--Aunt Mary was nussin' a
+new baby of her own, so Marse John made her let his baby suck too. If
+Aunt Mary was feedin' her own baby and Miss Lucy started cryin' Marse
+John would snatch her baby up by the legs and spank him, and tell Aunt
+Mary to go on and nuss his baby fust. Aunt Mary couldn't answer him a
+word, but my ma said she offen seed Aunt Mary cry 'til de tears met
+under her chin.
+
+"I ain't never heared nothin' 'bout no jails in slavery time. What dey
+done den was 'most beat de life out of de Niggers to make 'em be-have.
+Ma was brung to Bairdstown and sold on de block to Marse Joe long 'fore
+I was borned, but I ain't never seed no slaves sold. Lordy, Mistess,
+ain't nobody never told you it was agin de law to larn a Nigger to read
+and write in slavery time? White folks would chop your hands off for dat
+quicker dan dey would for 'most anything else. Dat's jus' a sayin',
+'chop your hands off.' Why, Mistess, a Nigger widout no hands wouldn't
+be able to wuk much, and his owner couldn't sell him for nigh as much as
+he could git for a slave wid good hands. Dey jus' beat 'em up bad when
+dey cotched 'em studyin' readin' and writin', but folks did tell 'bout
+some of de owners dat cut off one finger evvy time dey cotch a slave
+tryin' to git larnin'. How-some-ever, dere was some Niggers dat wanted
+larnin' so bad dey would slip out at night and meet in a deep gully whar
+dey would study by de light of light'ood torches; but one thing sho, dey
+better not let no white folks find out 'bout it, and if dey was lucky
+'nough to be able to keep it up 'til dey larned to read de Bible, dey
+kept it a close secret.
+
+"Slaves warn't 'lowed to have no churches of dey own and dey had to go
+to church wid de white folks. Dere warn't no room for chillun in de
+Baptist church at Bairdstown whar Marse Joe tuk his grown-up slaves to
+meetin', so I never did git to go to none, but he used to take my ma
+along, but she was baptized by a white preacher when she jined up wid
+dat church. De crick was nigh de church and dat was whar dey done de
+baptizin'.
+
+"None of our Niggers never knowed enough 'bout de North to run off up
+dar. Lak I done told you, some of 'em did run off atter a bad beatin',
+but dey jus' went to de woods. Some of 'em come right on back, but some
+didn't; Us never knowed whar dem what didn't come back went. Show me a
+slavery-time Nigger dat ain't heared 'bout paterollers! Mistess, I 'clar
+to goodness, paterollers was de devil's own hosses. If dey cotched a
+Nigger out and his Marster hadn't fixed him up wid a pass, it was jus'
+too bad; dey most kilt him. You couldn't even go to de Lord's house on
+Sunday 'less you had a ticket sayin': 'Dis Nigger is de propity of Marse
+Joe McWhorter. Let him go.'
+
+"Dere warn't never no let-up when it come to wuk. When slaves come in
+from de fields atter sundown and tended de stock and et supper, de mens
+still had to shuck corn, mend hoss collars, cut wood, and sich lak; de
+'omans mended clothes, spun thread, wove cloth, and some of 'em had to
+go up to de big house and nuss de white folks' babies. One night my ma
+had been nussin' one of dem white babies, and atter it dozed off to
+sleep she went to lay it in its little bed. De child's foot cotch itself
+in Marse Joe's galluses dat he had done hung on de foot of de bed, and
+when he heared his baby cry Marse Joe woke up and grabbed up a stick of
+wood and beat ma over de head 'til he 'most kilt her. Ma never did seem
+right atter dat and when she died she still had a big old knot on her
+head.
+
+"Dey said on some plantations slaves was let off from wuk when de dinner
+bell rung on Saddays, but not on our'n; dere warn't never no let-up 'til
+sundown on Sadday nights atter dey had tended to de stock and et supper.
+On Sundays dey was 'lowed to visit 'round a little atter dey had 'tended
+church, but dey still had to be keerful to have a pass wid 'em. Marse
+Joe let his slaves have one day for holiday at Christmas and he give 'em
+plenty of extra good somepin t'eat and drink on dat special day. New
+Year's Day was de hardest day of de whole year, for de overseer jus'
+tried hisself to see how hard he could drive de Niggers dat day, and
+when de wuk was all done de day ended off wid a big pot of cornfield
+peas and hog jowl to eat for luck. Dat was s'posed to be a sign of
+plenty too.
+
+"Cornshuckin's was a mighty go dem days, and folks from miles and miles
+around was axed. When de wuk was done dey had a big time eatin',
+drinkin', wrestlin', dancin', and all sorts of frolickin'. Even wid all
+dat liquor flowin' so free at cornshuckin's I never heared of nobody
+gittin' mad, and Marse Joe never said a cross word at his cornshuckin's.
+He allus picked bright moonshiny nights for dem big cotton pickin's, and
+dere warn't nothin' short 'bout de big eats dat was waitin' for dem
+Niggers when de cotton was all picked out. De young folks danced and cut
+up evvy chanct dey got and called deyselfs havin' a big time.
+
+"Games? Well, 'bout de biggest things us played when I was a chap was
+baseball, softball, and marbles. Us made our own marbles out of clay and
+baked 'em in de sun, and our baseballs and softballs was made out of
+rags.
+
+"Does I know anything 'bout ghosties? Yes, mam, I sees ha'nts and
+ghosties any time. Jus' t'other night I seed a man widout no head, and
+de old witches 'most nigh rides me to death. One of 'em got holt of me
+night 'fore last and 'most choked me to death; she was in de form of a
+black cat. Mistess, some folks say dat to see things lak dat is a sign
+your blood is out of order. Now, me, I don't know what makes me see 'em.
+
+"Marse Joe tuk mighty good keer of sick slaves. He allus called in a
+doctor for 'em, and kept plenty of castor ile, turpentine, and de lak on
+hand to dose 'em wid. Miss Emily made teas out of a heap of sorts of
+leaves, barks, and roots, sich as butterfly root, pine tops, mullein,
+catnip and mint leaves, feverfew grass, red oak bark, slippery ellum
+bark, and black gum chips. Most evvybody had to wear little sacks of
+papaw seeds or of assyfizzy (asafetida) 'round deir necks to keep off
+diseases.
+
+"Dey used to say dat a free Nigger from de North come through de South
+and seed how de white folks was treatin' his race, den he went back up
+der and told folks 'bout it and axed 'em to holp do somepin' 'bout it.
+Dat's what I heared tell was de way de big war got started dat ended in
+settin' slaves free. My folks said dat when de Yankee sojers come
+through, Miss Emily was cryin' and takin' on to beat de band. She had
+all her silver in her apron and didn't know whar to hide it, so atter
+awhile she handed it to her cook and told her to hide it. De cook put it
+in de woodpile. De Yankee mens broke in de smokehouse, brought out meat
+and lard, kilt chickens, driv off cows and hosses, but dey never found
+Miss Emily's silver. It was a long time 'fore our fambly left Marse
+Joe's place.
+
+"Marse Joe never did tell his Niggers dey was free. One day one of dem
+Yankee sojers rid through de fields whar dey was wukin' and he axed 'em
+if dey didn't know dey was as free as deir Marster. Dat Yankee kept on
+talkin' and told em dey didn't have to stay on wid Marse Joe 'less dey
+wanted to, end dey didn't have to do nothin' nobody told 'em to if dey
+didn't want to do it. He said dey was deir own bosses and was to do as
+dey pleased from de time of de surrender.
+
+"Schools was sot up for slaves not long atter dey was sot free, and a
+few of de old Marsters give deir Niggers a little land, but not many of
+'em done dat. Jus' as de Niggers was branchin' out and startin' to live
+lak free folks, dem nightriders come 'long beatin', cuttin', and
+slashin' 'em up, but I 'spects some of dem Niggers needed evvy lick dey
+got.
+
+"Now, Mistess, you knows all Niggers would ruther be free, and I ain't
+no diffunt from nobody else 'bout dat. Yes, mam, I'se mighty glad Mr.
+Abraham Lincoln and Jeff Davis fit 'til dey sot us free. Dat Jeff Davis
+ought to be 'shamed of hisself to want Niggers kept in bondage; dey says
+dough, dat he was a mighty good man, and Miss Millie Rutherford said
+some fine things 'bout him in her book what Sarah read to me, but you
+can't 'spect us Niggers to b'lieve he was so awful good.
+
+"Me and Rosa Barrow had a pretty fair weddin' and a mighty fine supper.
+I don't ricollect what she had on, but I'se tellin' you she looked
+pretty and sweet to me. Our two boys and three gals is done growed up
+and I'se got three grandchillun now. Rosa, she died out 'bout 2 months
+ago and I'se gwine to marry agin soon as I finds somebody to take keer
+of me.
+
+"I was happier de day I jined de church at Sander's Chapel, dan I'se
+been since. It was de joyfullest day of all my life, so far. Folks ought
+to git ready for a better world dan dis to live in when dey is finished
+on dis earth, and I'se sho glad our Good Lord saw fit to set us free
+from sin end slavery. If he hadn't done it, I sho would have been dead
+long ago. Yistidday I picked a little cotton to git me some bread, and
+it laid me out. I can't wuk no more. I don't know how de Blessed Lord
+means to provide for me but I feels sho He ain't gwine to let me
+perish."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6:
+Ex-Slave #72]
+
+Henrietta Carlisle
+Alberta Minor
+Re-search Workers
+
+MOLLIE MALONE--EX-SLAVE
+Route B, Griffin, Georgia
+Interviewed
+
+September 16, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Mollie was born on a plantation owned by Mr Valentine Brook, near Locust
+Grove, Georgia. Mr. Brook died before the War and his wife, "the widder
+Brock", ran the plantation.
+
+Slaves not needed on the home plantation were "hired out" to other land
+owners for from $200.00 to $300.00 a year. This was done the first of
+each year by an auction from a "horse block". When Mollie was seven
+months old her mother, Clacy Brock, was "hired out" and she was taken
+care of by two old Negroes, too old to work, and who did nothing but
+care for the little "Niggers". Mollie grew up with these children
+between the "big house" and the kitchen. When she was old enough she was
+"put to mind" the smaller children and if they did'nt behave she pinched
+them, but "when the 'ole Miss found it out, she'd sure 'whup me'", she
+said. These children were fed cornbread and milk for breakfast and
+supper, and "pot licker" with cornbread for dinner. They slept in a
+large room on quilts or pallets. Each night the larger children were
+given so many "cuts" to spin, and were punished if all weren't finished.
+The thread was woven into cloth on the loom and made into clothes by the
+slaves who did the sewing. There were no "store bought" clothes, and
+Mollie was free before she ever owned a pair of shoes. Clothes had to be
+furnished by the owner for the slaves he "hired out".
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Brock had two daughters, Margaret and Mary Anne, who led
+very quiet secluded lives. Mollie remembers visits of the traveling
+preacher, who conducted services in a nearby church once a month. The
+slaves walked behind the White folks' carriages to and from the church,
+where they were seated in the rear during the services. If there were
+baptisms, the Whites were baptized first, then the Darkies.
+
+On this plantation the Negroes were not allowed to engage in any frolics
+or attend social gatherings. They only knew Christmas by the return of
+the hired out slaves, who came home for a week before the next auction.
+
+The young lady daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Brock wore "drag tail" dresses,
+and Mollie says the little Negroes had to hold these long skirts off the
+ground whenever they were out doors, then spread them as they went into
+the house so they could "strut."
+
+The children were not allowed any education other than the "old Miss"
+reading them the Bible on Sunday afternoons.
+
+The older Negroes were not allowed to visit on other plantations often,
+but when they did go they had to have passes from their masters or the
+"patarolers" would whip them--if they were caught.
+
+Hoar-hound and penny-royal were used for minor ailments, and "varnish"
+was put on cuts by the "ole Miss". Mollie doesn't remember ever seeing a
+doctor, other than a mid-wife, on the plantation. Home made remedies for
+"palpitation of the heart" was to wear tied around the neck a piece of
+lead, pounded into the shape of the heart, and punched with nine holes,
+or to get some one "not kin to you", to tie some salt in a small bag and
+wear it over your heart. Toothache was cured by smoking a pipe of "life
+everlasting", commonly called "rabbit tobacco". Headaches were stopped
+by beating the whites of an egg stiff, adding soda and putting on a
+cloth, then tying around the head.
+
+Mr. Brock died before the War, consequently not having any men to go
+from the plantation, Mollie knew very little about it. She remembers
+Confederate soldiers "practicin" at Locust Grove, the nearest town, and
+one time the Yankees came to the plantation and "took off" a horse Mrs.
+Brock had hidden in the swamp, also all the silver found buried.
+
+Mollie knew nothing of the freedom of the slaves until her mother came
+to get her. For two years they "hired out" on a farm in Butts County,
+where they worked in the fields. Several times in later years Mollie
+returned to the Brock plantation to see "the ole Miss" and the young
+Misses. Mrs. Brock and her daughters, who had never married, died on the
+plantation where they had always lived.
+
+Mollie's family "knocked around awhile", and then came to Griffin where
+they have since made their home. She became a familiar figure driving an
+ox-cart on the streets and doing odd jobs for White families and leading
+a useful life in the community. Besides her own family, Mollie has
+raised fifteen orphaned Negro children. She is approximately ninety
+years old, being "about growd" when the War ended.
+
+
+
+
+District Two
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+
+AUNT CARRIE MASON
+Milledgeville, Georgia
+(Baldwin County)
+
+Written By:
+Mrs. Estelle G. Burke
+Research Worker
+Federal Writers' Project
+Milledgeville, Georgia
+
+Edited By:
+John N. Booth
+Asst. District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+July 7, 1937
+[Date Stamp: JUL 20 1937]
+
+
+"Howdy, Miss, Howdy. Come on in. George is poly today. My grandchillun
+is doin' a little cleanin' up fer me 'cause us thinks George ain't got
+long on this earth an' us don' want de place ter be dirty an' all when
+he's gone."
+
+The home of Aunt Carrie and Uncle George Mason, a two-room cabin
+surrounded by a dirty yard, stands in a clearing. Old tin cans, bottles,
+dusty fruit jars, and piles of rat-tail cotton from gutted mattresses
+littered the place. An immense sugarberry tree, beautifully
+proportioned, casts inviting shade directly in front of the stoop. It is
+the only redeeming feature about the premises. Aunt Carrie, feeble and
+gray haired, hobbled out in the yard with the aid of a stick.
+
+"Have a seat, Miss. Dat cheer is all right. It won't fall down. Don't
+git yo' feet wet in dat dirty water. My grandchillun is scourin' terday.
+Effen yer want to, us'll set under de tree. Dey's a cool breeze dar all
+de time.
+
+"You wants to fin' out my age an' all? Law Miss, I don' know how ole I
+is. George is nigh 'bout 90. I 'members my mammy said I wuz bawn a mont'
+or two 'fore freedom wuz 'clared. Yas'um I rekymembers all 'bout de
+Yankees. How cum I 'members 'bout dem an' de war wuz over den? I cain't
+tell yer dat, but I knows I 'members seein' 'em in de big road. It
+mought not uv been Mister Sherman's mens but mammy said de Yankees wuz
+in de big road long after freedom wuz 'clared, and dey wuz down here
+gettin' things straight. Dey wuz sho' in er mess atter de war! Evvythin'
+wuz tore up an' de po' niggers didn't know which away to turn.
+
+"My mammy's name wuz Catherine Bass an' my pappy wuz Ephriam Butts. Us
+b'longed ter Mars' Ben Bass an' my mammy had de same name ez marster
+twell she ma'ied pappy. He b'longed ter somebody else 'til marster
+bought him. Dey had ten chillun. No, mam, Mammy didn't have no doctor,"
+Aunt Carrie chuckled, "Didn't nobody hardly have a doctor in dem days.
+De white folks used yarbs an' ole 'omans to he'p 'em at dat time. Mammy
+had er ole 'oman whut lived on de place evvy time she had a little 'un.
+She had one evvy year too. She lost one. Dat chile run aroun' 'til she
+wuz one year ole an' den died wid de disentery.
+
+"Us had er right hard time in dem days. De beds us used den warn't like
+dese here nice beds us has nowadays. Don't you laugh, Berry, I knows
+dese beds us got now is 'bout to fall down," Aunt Carrie admonished her
+grandson when he guffawed at her statement, "You chilluns run erlong now
+an' git thoo' wid dat cleanin'." Aunt Carrie's spirits seemed dampened
+by Berry's rude laugh and it was several minutes before she started
+talking again. "Dese young folks don't know nuthin' 'bout hard times. Us
+wukked in de ole days frum before sunup 'til black night an' us knowed
+whut wuk wuz. De beds us slep' on had roun' postes made outen saplins of
+hickory or little pine trees. De bark wuz tuk off an' dey wuz rubbed
+slick an' shiny. De sprangs wuz rope crossed frum one side uv de bed to
+de udder. De mattress wuz straw or cotton in big sacks made outen
+osnaberg or big salt sacks pieced tergether. Mammy didn't have much soap
+an' she uster scrub de flo' wid sand an' it wuz jes ez white. Yas mam,
+she made all de soap us used, but it tuk a heap. We'uns cooked in de
+ashes an' on hot coals, but de vittals tasted a heap better'n dey does
+nowadays. Mammy had to wuk in de fiel' an' den cum home an' cook fer
+marster an' his fambly. I didn' know nuthin' 'bout it 'till atter
+freedom but I hyearn 'em tell 'bout it.
+
+"Mammy an' pappy stayed on Marster's plantation 'til a year or mo' atter
+dey had dey freedom. Marster paid 'em wages an' a house ter stay in. He
+didn't hav' many slaves, 'bout 20, I reckon. My brothers wuz Berry,
+Dani'l, Ephriam, Tully, Bob, Lin, an' George. De yuthers I disremembers,
+caze dey lef' home when dey wuz big enough to earn dey livin' an' I jes
+don't recollec'.
+
+"Conjur' woman! Law miss, I aims ter git ter Hebem when I dies an' I
+show don't know how ter conjur' nobody. No mam, I ain't never seed no
+ghost. I allus pray to de Lord dat He spar' me dat trouble an' not let
+me see nary one. No good in folks plunderin' on dis earth atter dey
+leave here de fus time. Go 'way, dog."
+
+A spotted hound, lean and flop-eared was scratching industriously under
+Aunt Carrie's chair. It was a still summer day and the flies droned
+ceaselessly. A well nearby creaked as the dripping bucket was drawn to
+the top by a granddaughter who had come in from the field to get a cool
+drink. Aunt Carrie watched the girl for a moment and then went back to
+her story.
+
+"Effen my mammy or pappy ever runned away from Marster, I ain't heered
+tell uv it, but Mammy said dat when slaves did run away, dey wuz cotched
+an' whupped by de overseer. Effen a man or a 'oman kilt another one den
+dey wuz branded wid er hot i'on. Er big S wuz put on dey face somewhars.
+S stood fer 'slave, 'an' evvybody knowed dey wuz er mudderer. Marster
+din't have no overseer; he overseed hisself.
+
+"Why is George so white? 'Cause his marster wuz er white genemun named
+Mister Jimmie Dunn. His mammy wuz er cullud 'oman name' Frances Mason
+an' his marster wuz his paw. Yas mam, I see you is s'prised, but dat
+happ'ned a lots in dem days. I hyeared tell of er white man what would
+tell his sons ter 'go down ter dem nigger quarters an' git me mo'
+slaves.' Yas mam, when George wuz borned ter his mamny, his pappy wuz er
+white man an' he made George his overseer ez soon ez he wuz big e'nuf
+ter boss de yuther slaves. I wish he wuz able to tell yer 'bout it, but
+since he had dat las' stroke he ain't been able ter talk none."
+
+Aunt Carrie took an old clay pipe from her apron pocket and filled it
+with dry scraps of chewing tobacco. After lighting it she puffed quietly
+and seemed to be meditating. Finally she took it from her mouth and
+continued.
+
+"I ain't had no eddication. I 'tended school part of one term but I wuz
+so skairt of my teacher that I couldn't larn nuthin'. He wuz a ole white
+man. He had been teachin' fer years an' years, but he had a cancer an'
+dey had done stopped him frum teachin' white chillun'. His name wuz
+Mister Bill Greer. I wuz skairt 'cause he was a white man. No mam, no
+white man ain't never harmed me, but I wuz skairt of him enyhow. One day
+he says to me, 'chile I ain't goin to hurt yer none 'cause I'm white.'
+He wuz a mighty good ole man. He would have larned us mo' but he died de
+nex' year. Mammy paid him ten cents a mont' a piece fer all us chillun.
+De boys would wuk fer dey money but I wuz the onliest gal an' Mammy
+wouldn't let me go off de plantation to make none. Whut I made dar I
+got, but I didn't make much 'til atter I ma'ied.
+
+"Law honey, does yer want to know 'bout my ma'ige? Well, I wuz 15 years
+ole an' I had a preacher to ma'y me. His name wuz Andrew Brown. In dem
+days us allus waited 'til de time of year when us had a big meetin' or
+at Christmus time. Den effen one of us wanted ter git mai'ed, he would
+perform de weddin' atter de meetin' or atter Chris'mus celebratin'. I
+had er bluish worsted dress. I mai'ed in Jannywerry, right atter
+Chris'mus. At my mai'ge us had barbecue, brunswick stew, an' cake. De
+whole yard wuz full uv folks.
+
+"Mammy wuz a 'ligous 'oman an' de fust day of Chris'mus she allus fasted
+ha'f a day an' den she would pray. Atter dat evvybody would hav' eggnog
+an' barbecue an' cake effen dey had de money to buy it. Mammy said dat
+when dey wuz still slaves Marster allus gived 'em Chris'mus, but atter
+dey had freedom den dey had ter buy dey own rations. Us would have
+banjer playin' an' dance de pijen-wing and de shuffle-toe.
+
+"No mam, George's pa didn' leave him no lan' when he died. Us went ter
+another farm an' rented when de mai'ge wuz over. George's pa warn't
+dead, but he didn't offer to do nuthin' fer us.
+
+"Yas'um, I'se had eight chilluns of my own. Us ain' never had no lan' us
+could call our'n. Us jes moved from one farm ter another all our days.
+This here lan' us is on now 'longs ter Mr. Cline. My son an' his chillun
+wuks it an' dey give us whut dey kin spare. De Red Cross lady he'ps us
+an' us gits along somehow or nother."
+
+
+
+
+Works Progress Administration
+Harry L. Hopkins, Administrator
+Ellen S. Woodward, Assistant Administrator
+Henry S. Alsberg, Director of the Federal Writers' Project
+
+PLANTATION LIFE
+
+Interview with:
+SUSAN MATTHEWS, Age 84
+Madison Street,
+Macon, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Ruth H. Sanford,
+Macon, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+Annie A. Rose,
+Macon, Georgia
+
+
+Susan Matthews is an intelligent old negress, very tall and weighing
+close to two hundred pounds. Her eyes were bright, her "store-bought"
+teeth flashed in a smile as she expressed her willingness to tell us all
+she remembered "'bout ole times." In a tattered, faded print dress, a
+misshapen hat and ragged shoes, she sat enjoying the sunshine on the
+porch while she sewed on an underskirt she was making for herself from
+old sugar sacks. Her manner was cheerful; she seemed to get genuine
+enjoyment from the interview and gave us a hearty invitation to come to
+see her again.
+
+"I was jes a chile" she began, "when de white folks had slaves. My ma an
+her chillen wuz the onliest slaves my marster and mistis had. My pa
+belonged to some mo white folks that lived 'bout five miles from us. My
+marster and mistis were poor folks. They lived in a white frame house;
+it wuz jes a little house that had 'bout five rooms, I reckon. The house
+had a kitchen in the backyard and the house my ma lived wuz in the back
+yard too, but I wuz raised in my mistis' house. I slept in her room;
+slep' on the foot of her bed to keep her feets warm and everwhere my
+mistis went I went to. My marster and mistis wuz sho good to us an we
+loved 'em. My ma, she done the cooking and the washing fer the family
+and she could work in the fields jes lak a man. She could pick her three
+hundred pounds of cotton or pull as much fodder as any man. She wuz
+strong an she had a new baby mos' ev'y year. My marster and Mistis liked
+for to have a lot of chillen 'cause that helped ter make 'em richer."
+
+I didn't have much time fer playin' when I wus little cause I wuz allus
+busy waitin' on my mistis er taking care of my little brothers and
+sisters. But I did have a doll to play with. It wuz a rag doll an my
+mistis made it fer me. I wuz jes crazy 'bout that doll and I learned how
+to sew making clothes fer it. I'd make clothes fer it an wash an iron
+'em, and it wasn't long 'fo I knowed how to sew real good, an I been
+sewing ever since.
+
+My white folks wern't rich er tall but we always had plenty of somep'n
+to eat, and we had fire wood to keep us warm in winter too. We had
+plenty of syrup and corn bread, and when dey killed a hog we had fine
+sausage an chitlin's, an all sorts of good eating. My marster and the
+white an collored boys would go hunting, and we had squirrels an rabbits
+an possums jes lots of time. Yessum, we had plenty; we never did go
+hongry.
+
+"Does I remember 'bout the Yankees coming?, Yes ma'am, I sho does. The
+white chillen an us had been looking fer 'em and looking fer 'em. We
+wanted 'em to come. We knowed 'twould be fun to see 'em. And sho 'nuf
+one day I was out in de front yard to see and I seed a whole passel of
+men in blue coats coming down de road. I hollered "Here come de
+Yankees". I knowed 'twuz dem an my mistis an my ma an ev'y body come out
+in the front yard to see 'em. The Yankees stopped an the leading man
+with the straps on his shoulders talked to us an de men got water outen
+de well. No'm, they didn't take nothing an they hurt nothing. After a
+while they jes went on down the road; they sho looked hot an dusty an
+tired.
+
+"After de war wuz over my pa, he comed up to our house an got my ma an
+all us chillen an carries us down to his marster's place. I didn't want
+ter go cause I loved my mistis an she cried when we left. My pa's ole
+marster let him have some land to work on shares. My pa wuz a hard
+worker an we helped him an in a few years he bought a little piece of
+land an he owned it till he died. 'Bout once er twice a year we'd all go
+back ter see our mistis. She wuz always glad to see us an treated us
+fine.
+
+"After de war a white woman started a school fer nigger chillen an my pa
+sent us. This white lady wuz a ole maid an wuz mighty poor. She an her
+ma lived by dereselves, I reckon her pa had done got kilt in de war. I
+don't know 'bout that but I knows they wuz mighty poor an my pa paid her
+fer teaching us in things to eat from his farm. We didn't never have no
+money. I loved to go to school; I had a blue back speller an I learned
+real quick but we didn't get ter go all the time. When there wuz work
+ter do on the farm we had ter stop an do it.
+
+"Times warn't no better after de war wuz over an dey warnt no wuss. We
+wuz po before de war an we wuz po after de war. But we allus had somep'n
+to wear and plenty to eat an we never had no kick coming.
+
+"I never did get married. I'se a old maid nigger, an they tells me you
+don't see old maid niggers. How come I ain't married I don't know. Seems
+like when I was young I seed somep'n wrong with all de mens that would
+come around. Then atter while I wuz kinder ole an they didn't come
+around no mo. Jes' last week a man come by here what used to co't me. He
+seed me settin here on the porch an I says 'Come on in an set a while',
+an he did. So maybe, I ain't through co'tin, maybe I'll get married
+yet." Here she laughed gleefully.
+
+When asked which she preferred freedom or slavery she replied, "Well,
+being free wuz all right while I wuz young but now I'm old an I wish I
+b'longed to somebody cause they would take keer of me an now I ain't got
+nobody to take keer of me. The government gives me eight dollars a month
+but that don't go fer enough. I has er hard time cause I can't git
+around an work like I used to."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: DIST. 6
+Ex-slave #77]
+
+Alberta Minor
+Re-search Worker
+
+EMILY MAYS
+East Solomon Street,
+Griffin, Georgia
+Interviewed
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Emily was born in 1861 on the Billy Stevens plantation in Upson County.
+Her mother, Betsy Wych, was born at Hawkinsville, Georgia, and sold to
+Mr. Billy Stevens. The father, Peter Wych, was born in West Virginia. A
+free man, he was part Indian and when driving a team of oxen into
+Virginia for lime, got into the slave territory, was overtaken by a
+"speculator" and brought to Georgia where he was sold to the Wyches of
+Macon. He cooked for them at their Hotel, "The Brown House" for a number
+of years, then was sold "on the block" to Mr. Stevens of Upson County.
+Betsy was sold at this same auction. Betsy and Peter were married by
+"jumping the broomstick" after Mr. Stevens bought them. They had sixteen
+children, of which Emily is the next to the last. She was always a
+"puny", delicate child and her mother died when she was about seven
+years old. She heard people tell her father that she "wasn't intented to
+be raised" 'cause she was so little and her mother was "acomin' to get
+her soon." Hearing this kind of remarks often had a depressing effect
+upon the child, and she "watched the clouds" all the time expecting her
+mother and was "bathed in tears" most of the time.
+
+After the war, Peter rented a "patch" from Mr. Kit Parker and the whole
+family worked in the fields except Emily. She was not big enough so they
+let her work in the "big house" until Mrs. Parker's death. She helped
+"'tend" the daughter's babies, washed and ironed table napkins and
+waited on them "generally" for which she can't remember any "pay", but
+they fed and clothed her.
+
+Her older sister learned to weave when she was a slave, and helped sew
+for the soldiers; so after freedom she continued making cloth and sewing
+for the family while the others worked in the fields. [Buttons were made
+from dried gourds.] They lived well, raising more on their patch than
+they could possibly use and selling the surplus. For coffee they split
+and dried sweet potatoes, ground and parched them.
+
+The only education Emily received was at the "Sugar Hill" Sunday School.
+They were too busy in the spring for social gatherings, but after the
+crops were harvested, they would have "corn shuckings" where the Negroes
+gathered from neighboring farms and in three or four days time would
+finish at one place then move on to the next farm. It was quite a social
+gathering and the farm fed all the guests with the best they had.
+
+The Prayer Meetings and "singings" were other pleasant diversions from
+the daily toil.
+
+After Mrs. Parker's death Emily worked in her father's fields until she
+was married to Aaron Mays, then she came to Griffin where she has lived
+ever since. She is 75 years old and has cooked for "White folks" until
+she was just too old to "see good", so she now lives with her daughter.
+
+
+
+
+INTERVIEW WITH LIZA MENTION
+BEECH ISLAND, S.C.
+
+Written and Edited By:
+Leila Harris
+and
+John N. Booth
+
+Federal Writers' Project
+Augusta, Georgia
+
+March 25, 1938
+
+
+"Come right in. Have a seat. I'll be glad to tell you anything I can
+'bout dem early days", said Liza Mention. "Course I warn't born till de
+second year atter freedom, so I don't 'member nothin' 'bout all dat
+fightin' durin' de war. I'se sho' glad I warn't born in slavery from
+what I heared 'em tell 'bout dem patterollers ketchin' and beatin' up
+folks." Liza's house, a 2-room hut with a narrow front porch, stands in
+a peaceful spot on the edge of the Wilson plantation at Beech Island,
+South Carolina. A metal sign on the door which revealed that the
+property is protected by a theft insurance service aroused wonder as to
+what Liza had that could attract a burglar. The bedroom was in extreme
+disorder with clothing, shoes, bric-a-brac, and just plain junk
+scattered about. The old Negress had been walking about the sunshiny
+yard and apologized for the mess by saying that she lived alone and did
+as she pleased. "Folks says I oughtn't to stay here by myself," she
+remarked, "but I laks to be independent. I cooked 25 years for de Wilson
+fambly and dey is gonna let me have dis house free 'til I die 'cause I
+ain't able to do no work."
+
+Liza's close-fitting hat pinned her ears to her head. She wore a dress
+that was soiled and copiously patched and her worn out brogans were
+several sizes too large. Ill health probably accounts for this
+untidiness for, as she expressed it, "when I gits up I hate to set down
+and when I sets down, I hates to git up, my knees hurts me so," however,
+her face broke into a toothless grin on the slightest provocation.
+
+"I wuz born up on de Reese's place in McDuffie County near Thomson,
+Georgia. When I wuz chillun us didn't know nothin' 'bout no wuk," she
+volunteered. "My ma wuz a invalis (invalid) so when I wuz 6 years old
+she give me to her sister over here at Mr. Ed McElmurray's place to
+raise. I ain't never knowed who my pa wuz. Us chaps played all de time
+wid white chillun jus' lak dey had all been Niggers. Chillun den didn't
+have sense lak dey got now; us wuz satisfied jus' to play all de time. I
+'members on Sundays us used to take leaves and pin 'em together wid
+thorns to make usselves dresses and hats to play in. I never did go to
+school none so I don't know nothin' 'bout readin' and writin' and
+spellin'. I can't spell my own name, but I think it begins wid a M.
+Hit's too late to study 'bout all dat now 'cause my old brain couldn't
+learn nothin'. Hit's done lost most all of what little I did know.
+
+"Back in dem times, folkses cooked on open fireplaces in winter time and
+in summer dey built cook stands out in de yard to set de spiders on, so
+us could cook and eat outdoors. Dere warn't no stoves nowhar. When us
+wuz hard up for sompin' green to bile 'fore de gyardens got goin' good,
+us used to go out and git wild mustard, poke salad, or pepper grass. Us
+et 'em satisfactory and dey never kilt us. I have et heaps of kinds of
+diffunt weeds and I still eats a mess of poke salad once or twice a year
+'cause it's good for you. Us cooked a naked hunk of fat meat in a pot
+wid some corn dumplin's.
+
+"De grown folks would eat de meat and de chilluns would sit around on de
+floor and eat de potlikker and dumplin's out of tin pans. Us enjoyed dat
+stuff jus' lak it had been pound cake.
+
+"Dances in dem days warn't dese here huggin' kind of dances lak dey has
+now. Dere warn't no Big Apple nor no Little Apple neither. Us had a
+house wid a raised flatform (platform) at one end whar de music-makers
+sot. Dey had a string band wid a fiddle, a trumpet, and a banjo, but
+dere warn't no guitars lak dey has in dis day. One man called de sets
+and us danced de cardrille (quadrille) de virginia reel, and de 16-hand
+cortillion. When us made syrup on de farm dere would always be a candy
+pullin'. Dat homemade syrup made real good candy. Den us would have a
+big time at corn shuckin's too.
+
+"I don't believe in no conjuration. Ain't nobody never done nothin' to
+me but I have seed people dat other folks said had been hurt. If
+somebody done somethin' to me I wouldn't know whar to find a root-worker
+to take it off and anyways I wouldn't trust dem sort of folks 'cause if
+dey can cyore you dey can kill you too.
+
+"I'se a member of de Silver Bluff Baptist Church, and I been goin' to
+Sunday School dar nearly ever since I can 'member. You know dey say
+dat's de oldest Nigger church in de country. At fust a white man come
+from Savannah and de church wuz built for his family and dey slaves.
+Later dere wuz so many colored members de white folks come out and built
+another house so de niggers could have de old one. When dat ole church
+wuz tore down, de colored folks worshipped for a long time in a goat
+house and den in a brush arbor.
+
+"Some folks calls it de Dead River Church 'cause it used to be near Dead
+River and de baptisin' wuz done dar for a long time. I wuz baptised dar
+myself and I loves de old spot of ground. I has tried to be a good
+church member all my life but it's hard fer me to get a nickel or a dime
+for preacher money now."
+
+When asked if people in the old days got married by jumping over a broom
+she made a chuckling sound and replied: "No, us had de preacher but us
+didn't have to buy no license and I can't see no sense in buyin' a
+license nohow, 'cause when dey gits ready to quit, dey just quits."
+
+Liza brought an old Bible from the other room in which she said she kept
+the history of the old church. There were also pictures from some of her
+"white folks" who had moved to North Carolina. "My husband has been daid
+for 40 years," she asserted, "and I hasn't a chile to my name, nobody to
+move nothin' when I lays it down and nobody to pick nothin' up. I gets
+along pretty well most of de time though, but I wishes I could work so I
+would feel more independent."
+
+
+
+
+District Two
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+
+AUNT HARRIET MILLER
+Toccoa, Georgia
+(Stephens County)
+
+Written By:
+Mrs. Annie Lee Newton
+Research Worker
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited By:
+John N. Booth
+Asst. District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+July 15, 1937
+
+
+Aunt Harriet Miller, a chipper and spry Indian Half-breed, thinks she is
+about 100 years old. It is remarkable that one so old should possess so
+much energy and animation. She is tall and spare, with wrinkled face,
+bright eyes, a kindly expression, and she wears her iron grey hair wound
+in a knob in the manner of a past generation. Aunt Harriet was neatly
+dressed as she had just returned from a trip to Cornelia to see some of
+her folks. She did not appear at all tired from the trip, and seemed
+glad to discuss the old days.
+
+"My father," said Aunt Harriet, "was a Cherokee Indian named Green
+Norris, and my mother was a white woman named Betsy Richards. You see, I
+am mixed. My mother give me to Mr. George Naves when I was three years
+old. He lived in de mountains of South Carolina, just across de river.
+He didn't own his home. He was overseer for de Jarretts, old man Kennedy
+Jarrett. Honey, people was just like dey is now, some good and some bad.
+Mr. Naves was a good man. Dese here Jarretts was good to deir slaves but
+de ----s was mean to deirs. My whitefolks tried to send me to school but
+de whitefolks wouldn't receive me in deir school on account of I was
+mixed, and dere warn't no colored school a t'all, nowhere. Some of de
+white ladies taught deir slaves. Yes'm, some of 'em did. Now, Miss
+Sallie Jarrett, dat was Mrs. Bob Jarrett's daughter, used to teach 'em
+some.
+
+"Slaves had half a day off on Saturday. Dey had frolics at night,
+quiltings, dances, corn-shuckings, and played de fiddle. Dey stayed in
+de quarters Sunday or went to church. Dey belonged to de same church wid
+de whitefolks. I belonged to Old Liberty Baptist Church. De back seats
+was whar de slaves set. Dey belonged to de same church just like de
+whitefolks, but I wasn't with 'em much." As a child, Aunt Harriet
+associated with white people, and played with white children, but when
+she grew up, had to turn to negroes for companionship.
+
+"If slaves stayed in deir places dey warn't never whipped or put in
+chains. When company come I knowed to get out doors. I went on to my
+work. I was treated all right. I don't remember getting but three
+whippings in my life. Old Mistis had brown sugar, a barrel of sugar
+setting in de dinin' room. She'd go off and she'd come back and ask me
+'bout de sugar. She'd get after me 'bout it and I'd say I hadn't took
+it, and den when she turned my dress back and whipped me I couldn't
+hardly set down. She whipped me twice 'bout the sugar and den she let me
+alone. 'Twasn't de sugar she whipped me 'bout, but she was trying to get
+me to tell de truth. Yes'm, dat was de best lesson dat ever I learned,
+to tell de truth, like David.
+
+"I had a large fambly. Lets see, I had ten chillun, two of 'em dead, and
+I believes 'bout 40 grand-chillun. I could count 'em. Last time I was
+counting de great-grandchillun dere was 37 but some have come in since
+den. Maggie has 11 chillun. Maggie's husband is a farmer and dey lives
+near Eastonallee. Lizzie, her husband is dead and she lives wid a
+daughter in Chicago, has 5 chillun. Den Media has two. Her husband,
+Hillary Campbell, works for de Govemint, in Washington. Lieutenant has
+six; he farms. Robert has six; Robert is a regular old farmer and Sunday
+School teacher. Davey has four, den Luther has seven, and dat leaves
+Jim, my baby boy. He railroads and I lives wid him. Jim is 37. He ain't
+got no chillun. My husband, Judge Miller, been dead 37 years. He's
+buried at Tugalo. Dis old lady been swinging on a limb a long time and
+she going to swing off from here some time. I'm near about a hundred and
+I won't be here long, but when I go, I wants to go in peace wid
+everybody.
+
+"I don't know. I'd be 'feard to say dere ain't nothing in voo-doo. Some
+puts a dime in de shoe to keep de voo-doo away, and some carries a
+buckeye in de pocket to keep off cramp and colic. Dey say a bone dey
+finds in de jawbone of a hog will make chillun teethe easy. When de
+slaves got sick, de whitefolks looked after 'em. De medicines for
+sickness was nearly all yerbs. Dey give boneset for colds, made tea out
+of it, and acheing joints. Butterfly root and slippery elm bark was to
+cool fever. Willow ashes is good for a corn, poke root for rheumatism,
+and a syrup made of mullein, honey, and alum for colds. Dey use barks
+from dogwood, wild cherry, and clack haws, for one thing and another.
+I'll tell you what's good for pizen-oak, powdered alum and sweet cream.
+Beat it if it's lump alum, and put it in sweet cream, not milk, it has
+to be cream. Dere's lots of other remedies and things, but I'm getting
+so sap-skulled and I'm so old I can't remember. Yes'm, I've got mighty
+trifling 'bout my remembrance.
+
+"Once some Indians camped on de river bottoms for three or four years,
+and we'd go down; me, and Anne, and Genia, nearly every Saturday, to
+hear 'em preach. We couldn't understand it. Dey didn't have no racket or
+nothing like colored folks. Dey would sing, and it sounded all right. We
+couldn't understand it, but dey enjoyed it. Dey worked and had crops.
+Dey had ponies, pretty ponies. Nobody never did bother 'em. Dey made
+baskets out of canes, de beautifulest baskets, and dey colored 'em wid
+dyes, natchel dyes.
+
+"Indian woman wore long dresses and beads. Deir hair was plaited and
+hanging down de back, and deir babyes was tied on a blanket on de back.
+Mens wore just breeches and feathers in deir hats. I wish you could have
+seen 'em a cooking. Dey would take corn dough, and den dey'd boil birds,
+make sort of long, not round dumplings, and drop 'em in a pot of hot
+soup. We thought dat was terrible, putting dat in de pot wid de birds.
+Dey had blow-guns and dey'd slip around, and first thing dey'd blow, and
+down come a bird. Dey'd kill a squirrel and ketch fish wid deir blow
+guns. Dem guns was made out of canes 'bout eight feet long, burned out
+at de j'ints for de barrel. Dey put in a arrow what had thistles on one
+end to make it go through quick and de other end sharp.
+
+"Yes honey, I believes in hants. I was going 'long, at nine o'clock one
+night 'bout the Denham fill and I heard a chain a rattling 'long de
+cross-ties. I couldn't see a thing and dat chain just a rattling as
+plain as if it was on dis floor. Back, since the war, dere was a
+railroad gang working 'long by dis fill, and de boss, Captain Wing,
+whipped a convict. It killed him, and de boss throwed him in de fill. I
+couldn't see a thing, and dat chain was just rattling right agai' de
+fill where dat convict had been buried. I believes de Lord took keer of
+me dat night and I hope he keeps on doing so."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-Slave #75]
+
+Folklore
+Alberta Minor
+Re-search Worker
+
+MOLLIE MITCHELL, Ex Negro Slave
+507 East Chappell Street
+Griffin, Georgia
+
+August 31, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Mollie Mitchell, a white haired old darkey, 85 years old was born on the
+Newt Woodard plantation. It is the old Jackson Road near Beulah Church.
+Until she was 7 years old she helped about the house running errands for
+her "Missus", "tendin' babies", "sweeping the yard", and "sich." At 7
+she was put in the fields. The first day at work she was given certain
+rows to hoe but she could not keep in the row. The Master came around
+twice a day to look at what they had done and when it was not done
+right, he whipped them. "Seems like I got whipped all day long," she
+said. One time when Mollie was about 13 years old, she was real sick,
+the master and missus took her to the bathing house where there was
+"plenty of hot water." They put her in a tub of hot water then took her
+out, wrapped her in blankets and sheets and put her in cold water. They
+kept her there 4 or 5 days doing that until they broke her fever.
+Whenever the negroes were sick, they always looked after them and had a
+doctor if necessary. At Christmas they had a whole week holiday and
+everything they wanted to eat. The negroes lived a happy carefree life
+unless they "broke the rules." If one lied or stole or did not work or
+did not do his work right or stayed out over the time of their pass,
+they were whipped. The "pass" was given them to go off on Saturday. It
+told whose "nigger" they were and when they were due back, usually by 4
+o'clock Sunday afternoon or Monday morning. "The patta-roll" (patrol)
+came by to see your pass and if you were due back home, they would give
+you a whippin'!"
+
+Mollie was 15 years old when the master came out in the fields and told
+them they were as free as he was. Her family stayed with him. He gave
+them a horse or mule, their groceries and a "patch to work", that they
+paid for in about three years time. Before the war whenever his slaves
+reached 70 years, the master set them free and gave them a mule, cow and
+a "patch". Mollie can remember her grandmother and grandfather getting
+theirs. When Mollie married (17 years old), she moved to her husband's
+farm. She had 9 children. She had to "spin the cloth" for their clothes,
+and did any kind of work, even the men's work too. Out of herbs she made
+syrup for worms for her children. With the barks of different trees she
+made the spring tonic and if their "stomachs was wrong", she used red
+oak bark. When she was younger, she would "dream a dream" and see it
+"jes' as clear" next morning and it always came true, but now since
+she's aged her dreams are "gone away" by next morning. When she was a
+little girl, they made them go to Sunday School and taught them out of a
+"blue back speller". After freedom, they were sent to day school "some".
+The "little missus" used to teach her upstairs after they were supposed
+to be in bed. She's been a member of the Methodist Church since she was
+17 years old. Mollie's husband was always a farmer and he always planted
+by the moon. Potatoes, turnips and things that grow under the ground
+were planted in the dark of the moon while beans and peas and things
+that develope on top the ground were planted in the light of the moon.
+
+She said she couldn't remember many superstitions but she knew a
+rabbit's foot was tied round your neck or waist for luck and a crowing
+hen was bad luck, so bad that they killed them and "put 'em in the pot"
+whenever they found one. When you saw a cat washing its face, it was
+going to rain sure.
+
+Mollie is quite wrinkled, has thinning white hair, very bad teeth but
+fairly active physically and her mind is moderately clear.
+
+
+
+
+Elizabeth Watson
+
+BOB MOBLEY, Ex-Slave, Aged about 90
+Pulaski County, Georgia
+(1937)
+[Date Stamp: JUL 20 1937]
+
+
+When recently interviewed, this aged colored man--the soul of humbleness
+and politeness--and long a resident of Pulaski County, sketched his life
+as follows (his language reconstructed):
+
+"I was the seventh child of the eleven children born to Robert and
+Violet Hammock, slaves of Mr. Henry Mobley of Crawford County. My
+parents were also born in Crawford County.
+
+My master was well-to-do: he owned a great deal of land and many
+Negroes.
+
+Macon was our nearest trading town--and Mr. Mobley sold his cotton and
+did his trading there, though he sent his children to school at
+Knoxville (Crawford County).
+
+My mother was the family cook, and also superintended the cooking for
+many of the slaves.
+
+We slaves had a good time, and none of us were abused or mistreated,
+though young Negroes were sometimes whipped--when they deserved it.
+Grown Negro men, in those days, wore their hair long and, as a
+punishment to them for misconduct (etc.), the master cut their hair off.
+
+I was raised in my master's house--slept in his room when I was a small
+boy, just to be handy to wait on him when he needed anything.
+
+If a slave became sick, a doctor was promptly called to attend him. My
+mother was also a kind of doctor and often rode all over the plantation
+to dose ailing Negroes with herb teas and home medicines which she was
+an adept in compounding. In cases of [HW: minor] illness, she could
+straighten up the sick in no time.
+
+Before the war started, I took my young master to get married, and we
+were certainly dressed up. You have never seen a Nigger and a white man
+as dressed up as we were on that occasion.
+
+An aunt of mine was head weaver on our plantation, and she bossed the
+other women weavers and spinners. Two or three seamstresses did all the
+sewing.
+
+In winter time we slaves wore wool, which had been dyed before the cloth
+was cut. In summer we wore light goods.
+
+We raised nearly every thing that we ate, except sugar and coffee, and
+made all the shoes and clothes worn on the place, except the white
+ladies' silks, fine shawls, and slippers, and the men's broadcloths and
+dress boots.
+
+My young master went to the war, but his father was too old to go. When
+we heard that the Yankees were coming, old mister refugeed to Dooly
+County--where he bought a new farm, and took his Negroes with him. But
+the new place was so poor that, right after the war closed, he moved
+back to his old plantation. I stayed with Mr. Henry for a long time
+after freedom, then came to Hawkinsville to work at the carpenter's
+trade. And I did pretty well here until I fell off a house several years
+ago, since which time I haven't been much good--not able to do hardly
+any work at all."
+
+
+Now old, feeble, and physically incapacitated, "Uncle" Bob lives with a
+stepdaughter--a woman of 72--who, herself, is failing fast. Both are
+supported mainly by Pulaski County and the Federal Government.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-Slave #79]
+
+Folklore
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-Search Worker
+
+FANNY NIX--Ex-Slave
+Interviewed
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Fanny was born in slavery and was "a great big girl" when the slaves
+were freed but does not know her exact age, however, she thinks that she
+was "at least twelve when the War broke out." According to this method
+of estimating her age, Fanny is about eighty-seven.
+
+The old woman's parents were John Arnold and Rosetta Green, who were
+married 'away befo de wah' by steppin' over the broom' in the presence
+of "old Marse," and a lot of colored friends.
+
+Fanny does not know where her parents were born, but thinks that they
+were born in Upson County near Thomaston, Georgia, and knows that she
+and her two brothers and other sister were.
+
+Fanny and her family were owned by Judge Jim Green. Judge Green had a
+hundred or so acres of land Fanny 'reckon', and between twenty-five and
+seventy-five slaves.
+
+"The Marster was just as good as he could be to all the slaves, and
+especially to the little chillun." "The Judge did not 'whup' much--and
+used a peach tree limb and done it hisself. There wuzn't no strop at
+Marse Green's big house."
+
+Rosetta Green, the mother of Fanny, "cooked and washed for Judge Green
+for yeahs and yeahs." Fanny "found her mammy a cookin' at the big house
+the fust thing she knowed."
+
+As Fanny grew up, she was trained by "ole Miss" to be a house girl, and
+did "sech wuk" as churning, minding the flies "offen de table when de
+white folks et, gwine backards and forads to de smoke-house for my
+mammy."
+
+She recalls that when she "minded the flies offen the table she allus
+got plenty of biscuits and scraps o' fried chicken the white folks left
+on their plates." "But," Fanny added with a satisfied smile, "Marse
+Green's darkies never wanted for sumpin t'eat, case he give 'em a
+plenty, even molasses all dey wanted." Fanny and her mammy always ate in
+"de Missis kitchen."
+
+"Yes," said Fanny, "I remembers when de Yankees come through, it tickled
+us chillun and skeered us too! Dey wuz mo'n a hundred, Miss, riding
+mighty po' ole wore out hosses. All de men wanted wuz sumpin' t'eat and
+some good hosses. De men poured into de smokehouse and de kitchen (here
+Fanny had to laugh again) an how dem Yankee mens did cut and hack "Ole
+Marse's" best hams! After dey et all dey could hol' dey saddled up "ole
+Marse's" fine hosses an' away dey rid!"
+
+When asked why the white folks did not hide the horses out in the swamps
+or woods, Fanny replied, "case, dey didn't have time. Dem Yankees
+pounced down like hawks after chickens!" "Ole Marse jost did have time
+to 'scape to de woods hisself." The Judge was too old to go to the war.
+
+John Arnold, Fanny's daddy, was owned by Mr. John Arnold on an adjoining
+plantation to Judge Greene, and when he and Fanny's mother were married,
+John was allowed to visit Rosetta each week-end. Of course he had to
+carry a pass from his "Marster."
+
+John and Rosetta "never lived together year in and year out," according
+to Fanny's statement, "till long after freedom."
+
+Fanny relates that Judge Green's slaves all went to "meetin" every
+Sunday in the white folks church. The darkies going in the after-noon
+and the white people going in the forenoon.
+
+The white preacher ministered to both the white and colored people.
+
+If the Negroes were sick and needed mo [HW: den] "old Marse" knowed what
+to give em, he "sont the white folk's doctor." "You see, Miss," said old
+Fanny with pride, "I wuz owned by big white folks."
+
+She tells that Judge Green had two young sons (not old enough to fight)
+and three daughters, 'jest little shavers, so high', (here Fanny
+indicated from three, to four or five feet at intervals, to indicate
+small children's height,) then added, "We allus said, 'Little Miss
+Peggy', 'Little Miss Nancy', and 'Little Missz Jane', and 'Young Marse
+Jim' and 'Little Marster Bob'". "Did you ever forget to speak to the
+children in that way?" the interviewer asked. "No, Miss, we sho didn't,
+we knowed better dan to fergit!"
+
+
+Fanny is very feeble in every way, voice is weak and her step most
+uncertain, but she is straight of figure, and was ripping up smoking
+tobacco sacks with which her daughter is to make 'a purty bed spread'.
+Fanny and her husband, another ex-slave, live with Fanny's daughter. The
+daughter supports her mother.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-Slave #80]
+
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-Search Worker
+
+HENRY NIX--Ex-Slave
+808 E. Slaton Ave.
+Griffin, Georgia
+Interviewed
+
+September 24, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+[TR: Numerous handwritten changes were made in this interview. Where a
+word appears in brackets after a HW entry, it was replaced by that
+handwritten entry. All numbers were originally spelled out.]
+
+
+Henry Nix was born March 15, 1848 in Upson County, about 5 miles from
+Barnesville, Georgia.
+
+[HW: His] [Henry's] parents were John Nix and Catherine Willis, who were
+not married, because as Henry reports, John Nix was an overseer on the
+plantation of Mr. Jasper Willis, "and when Marster found out what kind
+of man John Nix was he (Nix) had to skip out."
+
+When Henry "was a good sized boy, his mother married a darky man", and 3
+other children were born, 2 boys and a girl. Henry loved his mother very
+much and [HW: says] relates that on her death bed she told him who his
+father was, and [TR: "also told him" crossed out] how to live so as not
+to get into trouble, and, [HW: due to her advice] that he has never been
+in jail nor in any meanness of any kind [TR: "due to what she told him"
+crossed out].
+
+Mr. Jasper Willis, [TR: "who was" crossed out] Henry's owner, lived on a
+large plantation of about 300 three hundred acres in Upson County, [HW:
+and] [Mr. Willis] owned only about 50 or 60 slaves as well as Henry can
+remember. The old man considers Mr. Willis "the best marster that a
+darky ever had," saying that he "sho" made his darkies work and mind,
+but he never beat them or let the patter-role do it, though sometimes he
+did use a switch on 'em". Henry recalls that he received "a sound
+whuppin onct, 'case he throwed a rock at one o' Marse Jasper's fine cows
+and broke her laig!"
+
+When asked if Mr. Willis had the slaves taught to read and write, Henry
+hooted at the idea, saying emphatically, "No, Mam, 'Ole Marse' wuz sho
+hard about dat. He said 'Niggers' wuz made by de good Lawd to work, and
+onct when my Uncle stole a book and wuz a trying to learn how to read
+and write, Marse Jasper had the white doctor take off my Uncle's fo'
+finger right down to de 'fust jint'. Marstar said he fixed dat darky as
+a sign fo de res uv 'em! No, Miss, we wuzn't larned!"
+
+Mr. Willis allowed his slaves from Saturday at noon till Monday morning
+as a holiday, and then they always had a week for Christmas. All of the
+Negroes went to meeting on Sunday afternoon in the white people's church
+and were served by the white minister.
+
+Henry says that they had a "circuit doctor" on his Marster's place and
+the doctor came around regularly at least every two weeks, "case Marster
+paid him to do so and [HW: he] 'xamined evah darky big and little on dat
+plantation."
+
+One time Henry recalls that he "had a turrible cowbunkle" on the back of
+his neck and 'marse' had the doctor to cut it open. Henry knowed better
+den to holler and cut up, too, when it was done.
+
+The old man remembers going to war with his young master and remaining
+with him for the two years he was in service. They were in Richmond when
+the city surrendered to Grant and soon after that the young master was
+killed in the fight at Tumlin Gap. Henry hardly knows how he got back to
+"Ole Marster" but is thankful he did.
+
+After freedom, [HW: al]most all of Mr. Willis' darkies stayed on with
+him but Henry "had to act smart and run away." He went over into Alabama
+and managed "to keep [TR: "his" crossed out] body and soul together
+somehow, for several years and then [TR: "he" crossed out] went back to
+"Ole Marster."
+
+Henry is well and rather active for his 87 or 88 years and likes to
+work. He has a job now cleaning off the graves at the white cemetery but
+he and his wife depend mainly [HW: for support] on their son [TR: "for
+support" crossed out], who lives just across the street from them.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6]
+
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-Search Worker
+
+LEWIS OGLETREE--Ex-Slave
+501 E. Tinsley Street
+Griffin, Georgia
+
+August 21, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+[TR: Numerous handwritten changes were made in this interview. Where a
+word appears in brackets after a HW entry, it was replaced by that
+handwritten entry.]
+
+
+Lewis Ogletree was born on the plantation of Mr. Fred Crowder of
+Spalding County, Georgia [HW: Ga], near Griffin. [HW: He] [Lewis] does
+not know exactly when he was born, but says that [TR: "he knows that"
+crossed out] he was maybe 17 years old at the end of the war in '65.
+This would make him 88 now.
+
+Mr. Crowder was the owner of a large number of slaves and among them
+was Lettie Crowder, [TR: "(married an Ogletree) the" crossed out]
+housekeeper and head servant in the home of Mr. Fred Crowder. Lettie was
+Lewis' mother.
+
+Lewis remembers standing inside the picket fence with a lot of other
+little pick-a-ninnies watching for Sherman's Army, and when the Yankees
+got close enough to be heard plainly, they hid in the bushes or under
+the house.
+
+The Yankees poured into the yard and into the house, making Lettie open
+the smoke-house and get them Mr. Crowder's best whiskey and oftentimes
+they made her cook them a meal of ham and eggs.
+
+Mr. Crowder, Lettie's master, was ill during the war, having a cancer on
+his left hand.
+
+Lewis reports that Mr. Crowder was a very hard master but a good one
+saying, "That it wasn't any use for the "patty-role" (the Patrol) to
+come to Marse Crowder's, 'cause he would not permit him to "tech one of
+his darkies."
+
+Mrs. Crowder, the "ole mistis", had died just before the war broke out
+and Mr. Crowder lived alone with his house servants.
+
+There were two young sons in the war. The oldest son, Col. Crowder, was
+in Virginia.
+
+Lewis said that his Master whipped him only once and that was for
+stealing. One day when the old master was taking a nap, Lewis "minding
+off the flies" and thinking his "marster" asleep slipped over to the big
+table and snatched some candy. Just as he picked up a lump, (it was
+"rock candy,") "Wham! Old [HW: Marster] [mastah] had me, and when he got
+through, well, Lewis, didn't steal anymore candy nor nothin'." "Mastah
+nevah took no foolishness from his darkies."
+
+Lewis remembers very clearly when Mr. Crowder gave his darkies their
+freedom. "Mastah sont me and my mammy out to the cabin to tell all de
+darkies to come up to de "big house". When they got there, there were so
+many that [HW: they] [some] were up on the porch, on the steps and all
+over the yard."
+
+"Mr. Crowder stood up on the porch and said, "You darkies are all free
+now. You don't belong to me no more. Now pack up your things and go on
+off." My Lord! How them darkies did bawl! And most of them did not leave
+ole mastah."
+
+
+
+
+[RICHARD ORFORD, Age around 85]
+
+
+The following version of slavery was told by Mr. Richard Orford of 54
+Brown Avenue in South Atlanta. Mr. Orford is large in statue and
+although 85 years of age he has a very active mind as well as a good
+sense of humor.
+
+Mr. Orford was born in Pike County, Georgia (near the present site of
+Griffin) in 1842. His master's name was Jeff Orford. Mr. Orford
+describes him as follows: "Marster wus a rich man an' he had 'bout 250
+slaves--'course dat was'nt so many 'cause some of de folks 'round dere
+had 400 and 500. He had plenty of land too--I don't know how many acres.
+He raised everything he needed on de plantation an' never had to buy
+nothing. I 'members when de Yankees come through--ol' marster had 'bout
+200 barrels of whiskey hid in de smokehouse--dat wus de fust time I ever
+got drunk."
+
+"Besides hisself an' his wife ol' marster had two boys an' nine girls".
+
+Continuing, Mr. Orford said: "My Ma did'nt have many chillun--jus' ten
+boys an' nine girls. I went to work in marster's house when I wus five
+years old an' I stayed dere 'till I wus thirty-five. De fust work I had
+to do wus to pick up chips, feed chickens, an' keep de yard clean. By de
+time I wus eight years old I wus drivin' my missus in de carriage."
+
+"All de rest of de slaves wus fiel' hands. Dey spent dere time plowing
+an' takin' care of de plantation in general. Dere wus some who split
+rails an' others who took care of de stock an' made de harness--de
+slaves did everything dat needed to be done on de plantation. Everybody
+had to git up 'fore daybreak an' even 'fore it wus light enuff to see
+dey wus in de fiel' waitin' to see how to run a furrow. 'Long 'bout nine
+o'clock breakfus' wus sent to de fiel' in a wagon an' all of 'em stopped
+to eat. At twelve o'clock dey stopped again to eat dinner. After dat dey
+worked 'till it wus to dark to see. Women in dem days could pick
+five-hundred pounds of cotton a day wid a child in a sack on dere
+backs."
+
+"When de weather wus too bad to work in de fiel' de hands cribed an'
+shucked corn. If dey had any work of dere own to do dey had to do it at
+night".
+
+According to Mr. Orford there was always sufficient food on the Orford
+plantation for the slaves. All cooking was done by one cook at the cook
+house. In front of the cook house were a number of long tables where the
+slaves ate their meals when they came in from the fields. Those children
+who were too young to work in the fields were also fed at this house but
+instead of eating from the tables as did the grown-ups they were fed
+from long troughs much the same as little pigs. Each was given a spoon
+at meal time and then all of the food was dumped into the trough at the
+same time.
+
+The week day diet for the most part consisted of meats and
+vegetables--"sometimes we even got chicken an' turkey"--says Mr. Orford.
+Coffee was made by parching meal or corn and then boiling it in water.
+None of the slaves ever had to steal anything to eat on the Orford
+plantation.
+
+All of the clothing worn on this plantation was made there. Some of the
+women who were too old to work in the fields did the spinning and the
+weaving as well as the sewing of the garments. Indigo was used to dye
+the cloth. The women wore callico dresses and the men wore ansenberg
+pants and shirts. The children wore a one piece garment not unlike a
+slightly lengthened dress. This was kept in place by a string tied
+around their waists. There were at least ten shoemakers on the
+plantation and they were always kept bust [TR: busy?] making shoes
+although no slave ever got but one pair of shoes a year. These shoes
+were made of very hard leather and were called brogans.
+
+In the rear of the master's house was located the slave's quarters. Each
+house was made of logs and was of the double type so that two families
+could be accommodated. The holes and chinks in the walls were daubed
+with mud to keep the weather out. At one end of the structure was a
+large fireplace about six feet in width. The chimney was made of dirt.
+
+As for furniture Mr. Orford says: "You could make your own furniture if
+you wanted to but ol' marster would give you a rope bed an' two or three
+chairs an' dat wus all. De mattress wus made out of a big bag or a
+tickin' stuffed wid straw--dat wus all de furniture in any of de
+houses."
+
+"In dem days folks did'nt git sick much like dey do now, but when dey
+did de fust thing did fer 'em wus to give 'em blue mass. If dey had a
+cold den dey give 'em blue mass pills. When dey wus very sick de marster
+sent fer de doctor."
+
+"Our ol' marster wus'nt like some of de other marsters in de
+community--he never did do much whuppin of his slaves. One time I hit a
+white man an' ol' marster said he was goin' to cut my arm off an' dat
+wus de las' I heard of it. Some of de other slaves useter git whuppins
+fer not workin' an' fer fightin'. My mother got a whuppin once fer not
+workin'. When dey got so bad ol' marster did'nt bother 'bout whuppin'
+'em--he jes' put 'em on de block an' en' sold 'em like he would a
+chicken or somethin'. Slaves also got whuppins when dey wus caught off
+the plantation wid out a pass--de Paddie-Rollers whupped you den. I have
+knowed slaves to run away an' hide in de woods--some of 'em even raised
+families dere."
+
+"None of us wus allowed to learn to read or to write but we could go to
+church along wid de white folks. When de preacher talked to de slaves he
+tol' 'em not to steal fum de marster an' de missus 'cause dey would be
+stealing fum dere selves--he tol' 'em to ask fer what dey wanted an' it
+would be givven to 'em."
+
+When Sherman marched through Georgia a number of the slaves on the
+Orford plantation joined his army. However, a large number remained on
+the plantation even after freedom was declared. Mr. Orford was one of
+those who remained. While the Yankee soldiers were in the vicinity of
+the Orford plantation Mr. Orford, the owner of the plantation, hid in
+the woods and had some of the slaves bring his food, etc. to him.
+
+Mr. Orford was thirty-five years of age when he left the plantation and
+at that time he married a twelve year old girl. Since that time he has
+been the father of twenty-three children, some of whom are dead and some
+of whom are still alive.
+
+
+
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+
+ANNA PARKES, Age 86
+150 Strong Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Residencies 6 & 7
+Augusta, Georgia
+
+
+Anna Parkes' bright eyes sparkled as she watched the crowd that thronged
+the hallway outside the office where she awaited admittance. A trip to
+the downtown section is a rare event in the life of an 86 year old
+Negress, and, accompanied by her daughter, she was making the most of
+this opportunity to see the world that lay so far from the door of the
+little cottage where she lives on Strong Street. When asked if she liked
+to talk of her childhood days before the end of the Civil War, she
+eagerly replied: "'Deed, I does." She was evidently delighted to have
+found someone who actually wanted to listen to her, and proudly
+continued:
+
+"Dem days sho' wuz sompin' to talk 'bout. I don't never git tired of
+talkin' 'bout 'em. Paw, he wuz Olmstead Lumpkin, and Ma wuz Liza
+Lumpkin, and us b'longed to Jedge Joe Henry Lumpkin. Us lived at de
+Lumpkin home place on Prince Avenue. I wuz born de same week as Miss
+Callie Cobb, and whilst I don't know z'ackly what day I wuz born, I kin
+be purty sho' 'bout how many years ole I is by axin' how ole Miss Callie
+is. Fust I 'members much 'bout is totin' de key basket 'round 'hind Ole
+Miss when she give out de vittals. I never done a Gawd's speck of work
+but dat. I jes' follered 'long atter Ole Miss wid 'er key basket.
+
+"Did dey pay us any money? Lawsy, Lady! What for? Us didn't need no
+money. Ole Marster and Ole Miss all time give us plenty good sompin'
+teat, and clo'es, and dey let us sleep in a good cabin, but us did have
+money now and den. A heap of times us had nickles and dimes. Dey had
+lots of comp'ny at Ole Marster's, and us allus act mighty spry waitin'
+on 'em, so dey would 'member us when dey lef'. Effen it wuz money dey
+gimme, I jes' couldn't wait to run to de sto' and spend it for candy."
+
+"What else did you buy with the money?", she was asked.
+
+"Nuffin' else," was the quick reply. "All a piece of money meant to me
+dem days, wuz candy, and den mo' candy. I never did git much candy as I
+wanted when I wuz chillun."
+
+Here her story took a rambling turn.
+
+"You see I didn't have to save up for nuffin'. Ole Marster and Ole Miss,
+dey took keer of us. Dey sho' wuz good white folkses, but den dey had to
+be good white folkses, kaze Ole Marster, he wuz Jedge Lumpkin, and de
+Jedge wuz bound to make evvybody do right, and he gwine do right his own
+self 'fore he try to make udder folkses behave deyselvs. Ain't nobody,
+nowhar, as good to dey Negroes as my white folkses wuz."
+
+"Who taught you to say 'Negroes' so distinctly?" she was asked.
+
+"Ole Marster," she promptly answered, "He 'splained dat us wuz not to be
+'shamed of our race. He said us warn't no 'niggers'; he said us wuz
+'Negroes', and he 'spected his Negroes to be de best Negroes in de whole
+land.
+
+"Old Marster had a big fine gyarden. His Negroes wukked it good, and us
+wuz sho' proud of it. Us lived close in town, and all de Negroes on de
+place wuz yard and house servants. Us didn't have no gyardens 'round our
+cabins, kaze all of us et at de big house kitchen. Ole Miss had flowers
+evvywhar 'round de big house, and she wuz all time givin' us some to
+plant 'round de cabins.
+
+"All de cookin' wuz done at de big house kitchen, and hit wuz a sho'
+'nough big kitchen. Us had two boss cooks, and lots of helpers, and us
+sho' had plenny of good sompin' teat. Dat's de Gawd's trufe, and I means
+it. Heap of folkses been tryin' to git me to say us didn't have 'nough
+teat and dat us never had nuffin' fittin' teat. But ole as I is, I cyan'
+start tellin' no lies now. I gotter die fo' long, and I sho' wants to be
+clean in de mouf and no stains or lies on my lips when I dies. Our
+sompin' teat wuz a heap better'n what us got now. Us had plenny of
+evvything right dar in de yard. Chickens, ducks, geese, guineas,
+tukkeys, and de smoke'ouse full of good meat. Den de mens, dey wuz all
+time goin' huntin', and fetchin' in wild tukkeys, an poddiges, and heaps
+and lots of 'possums and rabbits. Us had many fishes as us wanted. De
+big fine shads, and perch, and trouts; dem wuz de fishes de Jedge liked
+mos'. Catfishes won't counted fittin' to set on de Jedges table, but us
+Negroes wuz 'lowed to eat all of 'em us wanted. Catfishes mus' be mighty
+skace now kaze I don't know when ever I is seed a good ole river catfish
+a-flappin' his tail. Dey flaps dey tails atter you done kilt 'em, and
+cleaned 'em, and drap 'em in de hot grease to fry. Sometimes dey nigh
+knock de lid offen de fryin' pan.
+
+"Ole Marster buyed Bill Finch down de country somewhar', and dey called
+him 'William' at de big house. He wuz de tailor, and he made clo'es for
+de young marsters. William wuz right smart, and one of his jobs wuz to
+lock up all de vittals atter us done et much as us wanted. All of us had
+plenny, but dey won't nuffin' wasted 'round Ole Marster's place.
+
+"Ole Miss wuz young and pretty dem days, and Ole Marster won't no old
+man den, but us had to call 'em 'Ole Miss,' and 'Ole Marster,' kaze dey
+chilluns wuz called 'Young Marster' and 'Young Mistess' f'um de very day
+dey wuz born."
+
+When asked to describe the work assigned to little Negroes, she quickly
+answered: "Chilluns didn't do nuffin'. Grownup Negroes done all de wuk.
+All chilluns done wuz to frolic and play. I wuz jes' 'lowed ter tote de
+key basket kaze I wuz all time hangin' 'round de big house, and wanted
+so bad to stay close to my ma in de kitchen and to be nigh Ole Miss.
+
+"What sort of clo'es did I wear in dem days? Why Lady, I had good
+clo'es. Atter my little mistesses wore dey clo'es a little, Ole Miss
+give 'em to me. Ma allus made me wear clean, fresh clo'es, and go
+dressed up good all de time so I'd be fittin' to carry de key basket for
+Ole Miss. Some of de udder slave chilluns had homemade shoes, but I
+allus had good sto'-bought shoes what my young mistess done outgrowed,
+or what some of de comp'ny gimme. Comp'ny what had chilluns 'bout my
+size, gimme heaps of clo'es and shoes, and some times dey didn't look
+like dey'd been wore none hardly.
+
+"Ole Marster sho' had lots of Negroes 'round his place. Deir wuz Aunt
+Charlotte, and Aunt Julie, and de two cooks, and Adeline, and Mary, and
+Edie, and Jimmy. De mens wuz Charlie, and Floyd, and William, and
+Daniel. I disremembers de res' of 'em.
+
+"Ole Marster never whipped none of his Negroes, not dat I ever heared
+of. He tole 'em what he wanted done, and give 'em plenny of time to do
+it. Dey wuz allus skeert effen dey didn't be smart and do right, dey
+might git sold to some marster dat would beat 'em, and be mean to 'em.
+Us knowed dey won't many marsters as good to dey slaves as Ole Marster
+wuz to us. Us would of most kilt ourself wukkin', fo' us would of give
+him a reason to wanna git rid of us. No Ma'am, Ole Marster ain't never
+sold no slave, not whilst I kin 'member. Us wuz allus skeert dat effen a
+Negro git lazy and triflin' he might git sold.
+
+"No Negro never runned away f'um our place. Us didn't have nuffin' to
+run f'um, and nowhar to run to. Us heared of patterollers but us won't
+'fraid none kaze us knowed won't no patteroller gwine tech none of Jedge
+Lumpkin's Negroes.
+
+"Us had our own Negro church. I b'lieves dey calls it Foundry Street
+whar de ole church wuz. Us had meetin' evvy Sunday. Sometimes white
+preachers, and sometimes Negro preachers done de preachin'. Us didn't
+have no orgin or pianny in church den. De preacher hysted de hymns. No
+Ma'am, I cyan' 'member no songs us sung den dat wuz no diffunt f'um de
+songs now-a-days, 'ceppen' dey got orgin music wid de singin' now. Us
+had c'lections evvy Sunday in church den, same as now. Ole Marster give
+us a little change for c'lection on Sunday mawnin' kaze us didn't have
+no money of our own, and he knowed how big it made us feel ter drap
+money in de c'lection plate. Us Meferdis had our baptizin's right dar in
+de church, same as us does now. And 'vival meetin's. Dey jes' broke out
+any time. Out on de plantations dey jes' had 'vival meetin's in
+layin'-by times, but here in town us had 'em all durin' de year. Ole
+Marster used ter say: 'Mo' 'vivals, better Negroes.'
+
+"Evvybody oughter be good and jine de church, but dey sho' oughtn't to
+jine effen dey still gwine to act like Satan.
+
+"Us chillun would git up long 'fore day Chris'mas mawnin'. Us used ter
+hang our stockin's over de fire place, but when Chris'mas mawnin' come
+dey wuz so full, hit would of busted 'em to hang 'em up on a nail, so
+dey wuz allus layin' on Ma's cheer when us waked up. Us chillun won't
+'lowed to go 'round de big house early on Chris'mas mawnin' kaze us
+mought 'sturb our white folkses' rest, and den dey done already seed dat
+us got plenny Santa Claus in our own cabins. Us didn't know nuffin'
+'bout New Years Day when I wuz chillun.
+
+"When any of his Negroes died Ole Marster wuz mighty extra good. He give
+plenny of time for a fun'ral sermon in de afternoon. Most of da fun'rals
+wuz in de yard under de trees by de cabins. Atter de sermon, us would go
+'crost de hill to de Negro buyin' ground, not far f'um whar our white
+folkses wuz buried.
+
+"Us never bothered none 'bout Booker Washin'ton, or Mister Lincum, or
+none of dem folkses 'way off dar kaze us had our raisin' f'um de
+Lumpkins and dey's de bes' folkses dey is anywhar'. Won't no Mister
+Lincum or no Booker Washin'ton gwine to help us like Ole Marster and us
+knowed dat good and plenny.
+
+"I cyan' 'member much 'bout playin' no special games 'ceppin' 'Ole
+Hundud.' Us would choose one, and dat one would hide his face agin' a
+tree whilst he counted to a hundud. Den he would hunt for all de others.
+Dey done been hidin' whilst he wuz countin'. Us larned to count
+a-playin' 'Ole Hundud'.
+
+"No Ma'am, us never went to no school 'til atter de War. Den I went some
+at night. I wukked in de day time atter freedom come. My eyes bothered
+me so I didn't go to school much.
+
+"Yes Ma'am, dey took mighty good care of us effen us got sick. Ole
+Marster would call in Doctor Moore or Doctor Carleton and have us looked
+atter. De 'omans had extra good care when dey chilluns comed. 'Til
+freedom come, I wuz too little to know much 'bout dat myself, but Ma
+allus said dat Negro 'omans and babies wuz looked atter better 'fore
+freedom come dan dey ever wuz anymo'.
+
+"Atter de War wuz over, a big passel of Yankee mens come to our big
+house and stayed. Dey et and slept dar, and dey b'haved powerful nice
+and perlite to all our white folkses, and dey ain't bother Jedge
+Lumpkin's servants none. But den evvybody allus b'haved 'round Jedge
+Lumpkin's place. Ain't nobody gwine to be brash 'nough to do no
+devilment 'round a Jedges place.
+
+"Hit was long atter de War 'fo' I married. I cyan' 'member nuffin' 'bout
+my weddin' dress. 'Pears like to me I been married mos' all of my life.
+Us jes' went to de preacher man's house and got married. Us had eight
+chillun, but dey is all dead now 'ceppin' two; one son wukkin' way off
+f'um here, and my daughter in Athens.
+
+"I knows I wuz fixed a heap better fo' de War, than I is now, but I sho'
+don't want no slav'ry to come back. It would be fine effen evvy Negro
+had a marster like Jedge Lumpkin, but dey won't all dat sort."
+
+Anna leaned heavily on her cane as she answered the knock on the front
+door when we visited her home. "Come in," she invited, and led the way
+through her scrupulously tidy house to the back porch.
+
+"De sun feels good," she said, "and it sorter helps my rheumatiz. My
+rheumatiz been awful bad lately. I loves to set here whar I kin see dat
+my ole hen and little chickens don't git in no mischief." A small bucket
+containing chicken food was conveniently at hand, so she could scatter
+it on the ground to call her chickens away from depredations on the
+flowers. A little mouse made frequent excursions into the bucket and
+helped himself to the cracked grains in the chicken food. "Don't mind
+him," she admonished, "he jes' plays 'round my cheer all day, and don't
+bother nuffin'."
+
+"You didn't tell anything about your brothers and sisters when you
+talked to me before," her visitor remarked.
+
+"Well, I jes' couldn't 'member all at onct, but atter I got back home
+and rested up, I sot here and talked ter myself 'bout old times. My
+brudder Charles wuz de coachman what drove Ole Marster's carriage, and
+anudder brudder wuz Willie, and one wuz Floyd. My sisters wuz Jane and
+Harriet. 'Pears like to me dey wuz more of 'em, but some how I jes'
+cyan' 'member no more 'bout 'em. My husband wuz Grant Parkes and he tuk
+care of de gyardens and yards for de Lumpkins.
+
+"I had one chile named Caline, for Ole Miss. She died a baby. My
+daughter Fannie done died long time ago, and my daughter Liza, she wuks
+for a granddaughter of Ole Miss. I means, Liza wuks for Mister Eddie
+Lumpkin's daughter. I done plum clear forgot who Mister Eddie's daughter
+married.
+
+"I jes' cyan' recollec' whar my boy, Floyd, stays. You oughter know,
+Lady, hits de town whar de President lives. Yes Ma'am, Washin'ton, dats
+de place whar my Floyd is. I got one more son, but I done plum forgot
+his name, and whar he wuz las' time I heared f'um him. I don't know if
+he's livin' or dead. It sho' is bad to git so old you cyan' tell de
+names of yo' chilluns straight off widout havin' to stop and study, and
+den you cyan' allus 'member.
+
+"I done been studyin' 'bout da war times, and I 'members dat Ole Marster
+wuz mighty troubled 'bout his Negroes when he heared a big crowd of
+Yankee sojers wuz comin' to Athens. Folkses done been sayin' de Yankees
+would pick out de bes' Negroes and take 'em 'way wid 'em, and dere wuz a
+heap of talk 'bout de scandlous way dem Yankee sojers been treatin'
+Negro 'omans and gals. 'Fore dey got here, Ole Marster sent mos' of his
+bes' Negroes to Augusta to git 'em out of danger f'um de Fed'rals.
+Howsome-ever de Negroes dat he kept wid' 'im won't bothered none, kaze
+dem Fed'rals 'spected de Jedge and didn't do no harm 'round his place.
+
+"In Augusta, I stayed on Greene Street wid a white lady named Mrs.
+Broome. No Ma'am, I nebber done no wuk. I jes' played and frolicked, and
+had a good time wid Mrs. Broome's babies. She sho' wuz good to me. Ma,
+she wukked for a Negro 'oman named Mrs. Kemp, and lived in de house wid
+her.
+
+"Ole Marster sont for us atter de war wuz over, and us wuz mighty proud
+to git back home. Times had done changed when us got back. Mos' of Ole
+Marster's money wuz gone, and he couldn't take keer of so many Negroes,
+so Ma moved over near de gun fact'ry and started takin' in washin'.
+
+"De wust bother Negroes had dem days wuz findin' a place to live. Houses
+had to be built for 'em, and dey won't no money to build 'em wid.
+
+"One night, jes' atter I got in bed, some mens come walkin' right in
+Ma's house widout knockin'. I jerked de kivver up over my head quick,
+and tried to hide. One of de mens axed Ma who she wuz. Ma knowed his
+voice, so she said: 'You knows me Mister Blank,' (she called him by his
+sho' 'nuff name) 'I'm Liza Lumpkin, and you knows I used to b'long to
+Jedge Lumpkin.' De udders jes' laughed at him and said: 'Boy, she knows
+you, so you better not say nuffin' else.' Den anudder man axed Ma how
+she wuz makin' a livin'. Ma knowed his voice too, and she called him by
+name and tole him us wuz takin' in washin' and livin' all right. Dey
+laughed at him too, and den anudder one axed her sompin' and she called
+his name when she answered him too. Den de leader say, 'Boys, us better
+git out of here. These here hoods and robes ain't doin' a bit of good
+here. She knows ev'ry one of us and can tell our names.' Den dey went
+out laughin' fit to kill, and dat wuz de onliest time de Ku Kluxers ever
+wuz at our house, leastways us s'posed dey wuz Ku Kluxers.
+
+"I don't 'member much 'bout no wuk atter freedom 'ceppin' de wash tub.
+Maw larned me how to wash and iron. She said: 'Some day I'll be gone
+f'um dis world, and you won't know nuffin' 'bout takin' keer of yo'self,
+lessen you larn right now.' I wuz mighty proud when I could do up a
+weeks washin' and take it back to my white folkses and git sho' 'nuff
+money for my wuk. I felt like I wuz a grown 'oman den. It wuz in dis
+same yard dat Ma larned me to wash. At fust Ma rented dis place. There
+wuz another house here den. Us saved our washin' money and bought de
+place, and dis is de last of three houses on dis spot. Evvy cent spent
+on dis place wuz made by takin' in washin' and de most of it wuz made
+washin' for Mister Eddie Lumpkin's family.
+
+"Heaps of udder Negroes wuz smart like Ma, and dey got along all right.
+Dese days de young folkses don't try so hard. Things comes lots easier
+for 'em, and dey got lots better chances dan us had, but dey don't pay
+no 'tention to nuffin' but spendin' all dey got, evvy day. Boys is
+wuss'en gals. Long time ago I done give all I got to my daughter. She
+takes keer of me. Effen de roof leaks, she has it looked atter. She wuks
+and meks our livin'. I didn't want nobody to show up here atter I die
+and take nuffin' away f'um her.
+
+"I ain' never had no hard times. I allus been treated good and had a
+good livin'. Course de rheumatiz done got me right bad, but I is still
+able to git about and tend to de house while my gal is off at wuk. I
+wanted to wash today, but I couldn't find no soap. My gal done hid de
+soap, kaze she say I'se too old to do my own washin' and she wanter wash
+my clo'es herse'f."
+
+In parting, the old woman said rather apologetically, "I couldn't tell
+you 'bout no sho' 'nuff hard times. Atter de War I wukked hard, but I
+ain't never had no hard times".
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5
+Ex-Slave #83]
+
+"A TALK WITH
+G.W. PATTILLO--EX-SLAVE"
+[HW: age 78]
+
+Submitted by
+Minnie B. Ross
+
+Typed by:
+J.C. Russell
+1-22-37
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+[TR: In Informants List, G.W. Pattillio]
+
+
+In the shelter provided by the Department of Public Welfare, lives an
+old Negro, G.W. Pattillo, who was born in Spaulding County, Griffin,
+Ga., in the year 1852. His parents, Harriett and Jake Pattillo, had
+twelve children, of whom he was the second youngest. Their master was
+Mr. T.J. Ingram. However, they kept the name of their old master, Mr.
+Pattillo.
+
+Master Ingram, as he was affectionately called by his slaves, was
+considered a "middle class man," who owned 100 acres of land, with one
+family of slaves, and was more of a truck farmer than a plantation
+owner. He raised enough cotton to supply the needs of his family and his
+slaves and enough cattle to furnish food, but his main crops were corn,
+wheat, potatoes and truck.
+
+With a few slaves and a small farm, Master Ingram was very lenient and
+kind to his slaves and usually worked with them in the fields. "We had
+no special time to begin or end the work for the day. If he got tired he
+would say, 'Alright, boys, let's stop and rest,' and sometimes we didn't
+start working until late in the day."
+
+Pattillo's mother was cook and general house servant, so well thought of
+by the Ingram family that she managed the house as she saw fit and
+planned the meals likewise. Young Pattillo was considered a pet by
+everyone and hung around the mistress, since she did not have any
+children of her own. His job was to hand her the scissors and thread her
+needles. "I was her special pet," said Pattillo, "and my youngest
+brother was the master's special pet." Mr. and Mrs. Ingram never
+punished the children, nor allowed anyone but their parents to do so.
+If the boy became unruly, Mrs. Ingram would call his mother and say,
+"Harriett, I think G.W. needs to be taken down a button hole lower."
+
+The master's house, called the "Big House," was a two-story frame
+structure consisting of 10 rooms. Although not a mansion, it was fairly
+comfortable. The home provided for Pattillo's family was a three-room
+frame house furnished comfortably with good home-made furniture.
+
+Pattillo declared that he had never seen anyone on the Ingram Plantation
+punished by the owner, who never allowed the "paterrollers" to punish
+them either.
+
+Master Ingram placed signs at different points on his plantation which
+read thus: "Paterrollers, Fishing and Hunting Prohibited on this
+Plantation." It soon became known by all that the Ingram slaves were not
+given passes by their owner to go any place, consequently they were
+known as "Old Ingram's Free Niggers."
+
+Master Ingram could not write, but would tell his slaves to inform
+anyone who wished to know, that they belonged to J.D. Ingram. "Once,"
+said Pattillo, "my brother Willis, who was known for his gambling and
+drinking, left our plantation and no one knew where he had gone. As we
+sat around a big open fire cracking walnuts, Willis came up, jumped
+off his horse and fell to the ground. Directly behind him rode a
+'paterroller.' The master jumped up and commanded him to turn around and
+leave his premises. The 'Paterroller' ignored his warning and advanced
+still further. The master then took his rifle and shot him. He fell to
+the ground dead and Master Ingram said to his wife, 'Well, Lucy, I guess
+the next time I speak to that scoundrel he will take heed.' The master
+then saddled his horse and rode into town. Very soon a wagon came back
+and moved the body."
+
+The cotton raised was woven into cloth from which their clothing was
+made. "We had plenty of good clothing and food," Pattillo continued.
+"The smokehouse was never locked and we had free access to the whole
+house. We never knew the meaning of a key."
+
+Master Ingram was very strict about religion and attending Church. It
+was customary for everyone to attend the 9 o'clock prayer services at
+his home every night. The Bible was read by the mistress, after which
+the master would conduct prayer. Children as well as grownups were
+expected to attend. On Sundays, everybody attended church. Separate
+Churches were provided for the Negroes, with White and Colored preachers
+conducting the services. White Deacons were also the Deacons of the
+Colored Churches and a colored man was never appointed deacon of a
+Church. Only white ministers were priviliged to give the sacrament and
+do the baptizing. Their sermons were of a strictly religious nature.
+When a preacher was unable to read, someone was appointed to read the
+text. The preacher would then build his sermon from it. Of course,
+during the conference period, colored as well as white ministers were
+privileged to make the appointments. The Negroes never took up
+collections but placed their money in an envelope and passed it in. It
+was their own money, earned with the master's consent, by selling
+apples, eggs, chickens, etc.
+
+Concerning marriages, Pattillo believes in marriages as they were in the
+olden days. "Ef two people felt they wuz made for each other, they wuz
+united within themselves when they done git the master's 'greement, then
+live together as man and wife, an' that was all. Now, you got to buy a
+license and pay the preacher."
+
+Loss of life among slaves was a calamity and if a doctor earned a
+reputation for losing his patients, he might as well seek a new
+community. Often his downfall would begin by some such comment as, "Dr.
+Brown lost old man Ingram's nigger John. He's no good and I don't intend
+to use him." The value of slaves varied, from $500 to $10,000, depending
+on his or her special qualifications. Tradesmen such as blacksmiths,
+shoe makers, carpenters, etc., were seldom sold under $10,000. Rather
+than sell a tradesman slave, owners kept them in order to make money by
+hiring them out to other owners for a set sum per season. However,
+before the deal was closed the lessee would have to sign a contract
+which assured the slave's owner that the slave would receive the best of
+treatment while in possession.
+
+Pattillo remembers hearing his parents say the North and South had
+disagreed and Abraham Lincoln was going to free the slaves. Although he
+never saw a battle fought, there were days when he sat and watched the
+long line of soldiers passing, miles and miles of them. Master Ingram
+did not enlist but remained at home to take care of his family and his
+possessions.
+
+After the war ended, Master Ingram called his slaves together and told
+them of their freedom, saying, "Mr. Lincoln whipped the South and we are
+going back to the Union. You are as free as I am and if you wish to
+remain here you may. If not, you may go any place you wish. I am not
+rich but we can work together here for both our families, sharing
+everything we raise equally." Pattillo's family remained there until
+1870. Some owners kept their slaves in ignorance of their freedom.
+Others were kind enough to offer them homes and help them to get a
+start.
+
+After emancipation, politics began to play a part in the lives of
+ex-slaves, and many were approached by candidates who wanted to buy
+their votes. Pattillo tells of an old ex-slave owner named Greeley
+living in Upson County who bought an ex-slaves vote by giving him as
+payment a ham, a sack of flour and a place to stay on his plantation.
+After election, he ordered the ex-slave to get the wagon, load it with
+his possessions and move away from his plantation. Astonished, the old
+Negro asked why. "Because," replied old Greeley, "If you allow anyone to
+buy your vote and rob you of your rights as a free citizen, someone
+could hire you to set my house on fire."
+
+Pattillo remebers slavery gratefully and says he almost wishes these
+days were back again.
+
+
+
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+
+ALEC POPE, Age 84
+1345 Rockspring Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sadie B. Hornsby
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Ga.
+
+Edited by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Augusta, Ga.
+
+April 28, 1938
+[Date Stamp: MAY 6 1938]
+
+
+Alec lives with his daughter, Ann Whitworth. When asked if he liked to
+talk about his childhood days, he answered: "Yes Ma'am, but is you one
+of dem pension ladies?" The negative reply was an evident disappointment
+to Alec, but it did not hinder his narrative:
+
+"Well, I wuz born on de line of Clarke and Oglethorpe Counties, way down
+de country. Celia and Willis Pope wuz my ma and pa. Lawdy! Mist'ess, I
+don't know whar dey come f'um; 'peers lak pa's fust Marster wuz named
+Pope. Dat's de onlies' last name I ever ricollec' us havin'.
+
+"Dere wuz a passel of us chillun. My sisters wuz Sallie, Phebie Ann,
+Nelia, and Millie. My brudders wuz Anderson, Osborn, George, Robert,
+Squire, Jack, and Willis. Willis wuz named for pa and us nicknamed 'im
+Tuck.
+
+"De slave quarters wuz little log houses scattered here and dar. Some of
+'em had two rooms on de fust flo' and a loft up 'bove whar de boys most
+genially slep' and de gals slep' downstairs. I don't 'member nothin'
+t'all 'bout what us done 'cept scrap lak chilluns will do.
+
+"Oh! I ain't forgot 'bout dem beds. Dey used cords for springs, and de
+cords run f'um head to foot; den dey wove 'em 'cross de bed 'til dey
+looked lak checks. Wheat straw wuz sewed up in ticks for mattresses.
+When you rolled 'round on one of dem straw mattresses, de straw crackled
+and sounded lak rain. No Ma'am, I don't know nothin' t'all 'bout my
+gran'pa and gran'ma.
+
+"I wuz de reg'lar water boy, and I plowed some too. 'Course dere wuz so
+many on dat plantation it tuk more'n one boy to tote de water. Money?
+dis Nigger couldn't git no money in dem days.
+
+"Us sho' had plenty somepin' t'eat, sich as meat, and cornbread, and
+good old wheat bread what wuz made out of seconds. Dere wuz lots of
+peas, corn, cabbage, Irish 'tatoes, sweet 'tatoes, and chickens,
+sometimes. Yes Ma'am, sometimes. I laks coffee, but us Niggers didn't
+have much coffee. Dat wuz for de white folkses at de big house. Cookin'
+wuz done in de fireplace in great big spiders. Some of de biggest of de
+spiders wuz called ovens. Dey put coals of fire underneath and more
+coals on top of de lid. Ma baked bread and 'taters in de ashes. In
+winter she put de dough in a collard leaf so it wouldn't burn. In summer
+green corn shucks wuz wrapped 'round de dough 'stid of collard leaves.
+All de fish and 'possums and rabbits us had wuz cotch right dar on Old
+Marster's place, 'cause if one of our Niggers got cotch offen our place
+hit wuz jes' too bad. I sho' does love 'possum, and us had lots of 'em,
+'cause my brudder used to ketch 'em by de wholesale wid a dog he had,
+and dat same dog wuz a powerful good rabbit hound too.
+
+"Us had pretty good clothes most all de year 'round. In summer, shirts,
+and pants wuz made out of coarse cotton cloth. Sometimes de pants wuz
+dyed gray. Winter time us had better clothes made out of yarn and us
+allus had good Sunday clothes. 'Course I wuz jes' a plow boy den and
+now I done forgot lots 'bout how things looked. Our shoes wuz jes'
+common brogans, no diff'unt on Sunday, 'ceppin' de Nigger boys what wuz
+shinin' up to de gals cleaned up deir shoes dat day.
+
+"Our Marster wuz Mr. Mordecai Ed'ards. Well, he wuz pretty good--not too
+good. He tried to make you do right, but if you didn't he would give you
+a good brushin'. Miss Martha, Old Marster's old 'oman, warn't good as
+Old Marster, but she done all right. Dey had a heap of chillun: Miss
+Susan, Miss Mary, Miss Callie, Miss Alice, and it 'peers to me lak dere
+wuz two mo' gals, but I can't 'call 'em now. Den dere wuz some boys:
+Marse Billy, Marse Jim, Marse John, Marse Frank, and Marse Howard. Marse
+Frank Ed'ards lives on Milledge Avenue now.
+
+"Old Marster and Old Mist'ess lived in a great big fine house what
+looked to me lak one of dese big hotels does now. Marse Jack Ed'ards wuz
+de fust overseer I can ricollec'. He wuz kin to Old Marster. Marster had
+two or three mo' overseers at diff'unt times, but I don't ricollec' dey
+names. Dere wuz two car'iage drivers. Henry driv de gals 'round and
+Albert wuz Old Mist'ess' driver. Old Marster had his own hoss and buggy,
+and most of de time he driv for hisself, but he allus tuk a little
+Nigger boy namad Jordan 'long to help him drive and to hold de hoss.
+
+"Lawdy! Mist'ess, I couldn't rightly say how many acres wuz in dat
+plantation. I knowed he had two plantations wid fine houses on 'em. He
+jes' had droves and droves of Niggers and when dey got scattered out
+over de fields, dey looked lak blackbirds dere wuz so many. You see I
+wuz jes' a plow boy and didn't know nothin' 'bout figgers and countin'.
+
+"De overseer got us up 'bout four o'clock in de mornin' to feed de
+stock. Den us et. Us allus stopped off by dark. Mist'ess dere's a old
+sayin' dat you had to brush a Nigger in dem days to make 'em do right.
+Dey brushed us if us lagged in de field or cut up de cotton. Dey could
+allus find some fault wid us. Marster brushed us some time, but de
+overseer most gen'ally done it. I 'members dey used to make de 'omans
+pull up deir skirts and brushed 'em wid a horse whup or a hickory; dey
+done de mens de same way 'cept dey had to take off deir shirts and pull
+deir pants down. Niggers sho' would holler when dey got brushed.
+
+"Jails! Yes Ma'am, dey had 'em way down in Lexin'ton. You know some
+Niggers gwine steal anyhow, and dey put 'em in dere for dat mostly. I
+didn't never see nobody sold or in chains. De only chains I ever seed
+wuz on hosses and plows.
+
+"Mist'ess, Niggers didn't have no time to larn to read in no Bible or
+nothin' lak dat in slav'ry time. Us went to church wid de white folkses
+if us wanted to, but us warn't 'bleeged to go. De white folkses went to
+church at Cherokee Corner. Dere warn't no special church for Niggers
+'til long atter de War when dey built one out nigh de big road.
+
+"Some of de Niggers run away to de Nawth--some dey got back, some dey
+didn't. Dem patterollers had lots of fun if dey cotch a Nigger, so dey
+could brush 'im to hear 'im holler. De onlies' trouble I ever heard
+'bout twixt de whites and blacks wuz when a Nigger sassed a white man
+and de white man shot 'im. H'it served dat Nigger right, 'cause he
+oughta knowed better dan to sass a white man. De trouble ended wid dat
+shot.
+
+"De most Niggers ever done for a good time wuz to have little parties
+wid heaps of fidlin' and dancin'. On Sunday nights dey would have prayer
+meetin's. Dem patterollers would come and break our prayer meetin's up
+and brush us if dey cotch us.
+
+"Chris'mas wuz somepin' else. Us had awful good times den, 'cause de
+white folkses at de big house give us plenty of goodies for Chris'mas
+week and us had fidlin' and dancin'. Us would ring up de gals and run
+all 'round 'em playin' dem ring-'round-de-rosie games. Us had more good
+times at corn shuckin's, and Old Marster allus had a little toddy to
+give us den to make us wuk faster.
+
+"Oh! No Ma'am, I don't 'member nothin' 'bout what us played when I wuz a
+little chap, and if I ever knowed anything 'bout Rawhead and Bloody
+Bones and sich lak I done plumb forgot it now. But I do know Old Marster
+and Old Mist'ess sho' wuz powerful good when dey Niggers got sick. Dey
+put a messenger boy on a mule and sont 'im for Dr. Hudson quick, 'cause
+to lose a Nigger wuz losin' a good piece of property. Some Niggers wore
+some sort of beads 'round deir necks to keep sickness away and dat's all
+I calls to mind 'bout dat charm business.
+
+"I wuz jes' a plow boy so I didn't take in 'bout de surrender. De only
+thing I ricollects 'bout it wuz when Old Marster told my pa and ma us
+wuz free and didn't belong to him no more. He said he couldn't brush de
+grown folks no more, but if dey wanted to stay wid 'im dey could, and
+dat he would brush dey chilluns if dey didn't do right. Ma told 'im he
+warn't gwine brush none of her chilluns no more.
+
+"Us lived wid Old Marster 'bout a year, den pa moved up on de big road.
+Buy land? No Ma'am, Niggers didn't have no money to buy no land wid 'til
+dey made it. I didn't take in 'bout Mr. Lincoln, only dat thoo' him us
+wuz sot free. I heard 'em say Mr. Davis wuz de President of de South,
+and 'bout Booker Washin'ton some of de Niggers tuk him in, but I didn't
+bodder 'bout him.
+
+"Lawdy! Mist'ess, I didn't marry de fust time 'til long atter de War,
+and now I done been married three times. I had a awful big weddin' de
+fust time. De white man what lived on de big road not far f'um us said
+he never seed sich a weddin' in his life. Us drunk and et, and danced
+and cut de buck most all night long. Most all my chilluns is dead. I
+b'lieve my fust wife had 10 or 11 chilluns. I know I had a passel fust
+and last; and jes' to tell you de trufe, dere jes' ain't no need to stop
+and try to count de grand chilluns. All three of my wives done daid and
+I'm lookin' for anudder one to take keer of me now.
+
+"Why did I jine de church? 'Cause I jes' think evvybody oughta jine if
+dey wanna do right so'se dey can go to Heben. I feels lak a diff'unt man
+since I done jined and I knows de Lord has done forgive me for all my
+sins.
+
+"Mist'ess ain't you thoo' axin' me questions yit? Anyhow I wuz thinkin'
+you wuz one of dem pension ladies." When he was told that the interview
+was completed, Alec said: "I sho' is glad, 'cause I feels lak takin' a
+little nap atter I eat dese pecans what I got in my pocket. Goodbye
+Mist'ess."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5
+Ex-Slave #84]
+
+Whitley, Driskell
+1-20-37
+
+SLAVERY AS WITNESSED BY ANNIE PRICE
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Mrs. Annie Price was born in Spaulding County, Georgia October 12, 1855.
+Although only a mere child when freedom was declared she is able to
+relate quite a few events in her own life as well as some of the
+experiences of other slaves who lived in the same vicinity as she.
+
+Her mother and father Abe and Caroline were owned by a young married
+couple named Kennon. (When this couple were married Abe and Caroline had
+been given as wedding presents by the bride's and the groom's parents).
+Besides her parents there four brothers and five sisters all of whom
+were younger than she with one exception. The first thing that she
+remembers of her mother is that of seeing her working in the "Marster's"
+kitchen.
+
+Mr. Kennon was described as being a rather young man who was just
+getting a start in life. His family consisted of his wife and about
+five children. He was not a mean individual. The plantation on which he
+lived was a small one, having been given to him by his father (whose
+plantation adjoined) in order to give him a start. Mr. Kennon owned one
+other slave besides Mrs. Price and her family while his father owned a
+large number some of whom he used to lend to the younger Mr. Kennon.
+Cotton and all kinds of vegetables were raised. There was also some live
+stock.
+
+As Mr. Kennon owned only a few slaves it was necessary for these few
+persons to do all of the work. Says Mrs. Price: "My mother had to do
+everything from cultivating cotton to cooking." The same was true of her
+father and the other servant. Before the break of day each morning they
+were all called to prepare for the day's work. Mrs. Price then told how
+she has seen the men of her plantation and those of the adjoining one
+going to the fields at this unearthly hour eating their breakfast while
+sitting astride the back of a mule. After her mother had finished
+cooking and cleaning the house she was sent to the field to help the
+men. When it was too dark to see all field hands were permitted to
+return to their cabins. This same routine was followed each day except
+Sundays when they were permitted to do much as they pleased. When the
+weather was too bad for field work they shelled corn and did other types
+of work not requiring too much exposure. Holidays were unheard of on the
+Kennon plantation. As a little slave girl the only work that Mrs. Price
+ever had to do was to pick up chips and bark for her mother to cook
+with. The rest of the time was spent in playing with the "Marster's"
+little girls.
+
+"The servants on our plantation always had a plenty of clothes,"
+continued Mrs. Price, "while those on the plantation next to ours (Mrs.
+Kennon's father) never had enough, especially in the winter." This
+clothing was given when it was needed and not at any specified time as
+was the case on some of the other plantations in that community. All of
+these articles were made on the plantation and the materials that were
+mostly used were homespun (which was also woven on the premises) woolen
+goods, cotton goods and calico. It has been mentioned before that the
+retinue of servants was small in number and so for this reason all of
+them had a reasonable amount of those clothes that had been discarded by
+the master and the mistress. After the leather had been cured it was
+taken to the Tannery where crude shoes called "Twenty Grands" were made.
+These shoes often caused the wearer no little amount of discomfort until
+they were thoroughly broken in.
+
+For bedding, homespun sheets were used. The quilts and blankets were
+made from pieced cotton material along with garments that were unfit for
+further wear. Whenever it was necessary to dye any of these articles a
+type of dye made by boiling the bark from trees was used.
+
+In the same manner that clothing was plentiful so was there always
+enough food. When Mrs. Price was asked if the slaves owned by Mr. Kennon
+were permitted to cultivate a garden of their own she stated that they
+did'nt need to do this because of the fact that Mr. Kennon raised
+everything that was necessary and they often had more than enough. Their
+week-day diet usually consisted of fried meat, grits, syrup and corn
+bread for breakfast; vegetables, pot liquor or milk, and corn bread for
+dinner; and for supper there was milk and bread or fried meat and bread.
+On Sunday they were given a kind of flour commonly known as the
+"seconds" from which biscuits were made. "Sometimes", continued Mrs.
+Price, "my mother brought us the left-overs from the master's table and
+this was usually a meal by itself". In addition to this Mr. Kennon
+allowed hunting as well as fishing and so on many days there were fish
+and roast 'possum. Food on the elder Mr. Kennon plantation was just as
+scarce as it was plentiful on his son's. When asked how she knew about
+this Mrs. Price told how she had seen her father take meat from his
+master's smoke house and hide it so that he could give it to those
+slaves who invaribly slipped over at night in search of food. The elder
+Mr. Kennon had enough food but he was too mean to see his slaves enjoy
+themselves by having full stomachs.
+
+All cooking on Mrs. Price's plantation was done by her mother.
+
+All of the houses on the Kennon plantation were made of logs including
+that of Mr. Kennon himself. There were only two visible differences in
+the dwelling places of the slaves and that of Mr. Kennon and there were
+(1) several rooms instead of the one room allowed the slaves and (2)
+weatherboard was used on the inside to keep the weather out while the
+slaves used mud to serve for this purpose. In these crude one-roomed
+houses (called stalls) there was a bed made of some rough wood. Rope
+tied from side to side served as the springs for the mattress which was
+a bag filled with straw and leaves. There were also one or two boxes
+which were used as chairs. The chimney was made of rocks and mud. All
+cooking was done here at the fireplace. Mrs. Price says; "Even Old
+Marster did'nt have a stove to cook on so you know we did'nt." The only
+available light was that furnished by the fire. Only one family was
+allowed to a cabin so as to prevent overcrowding. In addition to a good
+shingle roof each one of these dwellings had a board floor. All floors
+were of dirt on the plantation belonging to the elder Mr. Kennon.
+
+A doctor was employed to attend to those persons who were sick. However
+he never got chance to practice on the Kennon premises as there was
+never any serious illness. Minor cases of sickness were usually treated
+by giving the patient a dose of castor oil or several doses of some form
+of home made medicine which the slaves made themselves from roots that
+they gathered in the woods. In order to help keep his slaves in good
+health Mr. Kennon required them to keep the cabins they occupied and
+their surroundings clean at all times.
+
+Mrs. Price said that the slaves had very few amusements and as far as
+she can remember she never saw her parents indulge in any form of play
+at all. She remembers, however, that on the adjoining plantation the
+slaves often had frolics where they sang and danced far into the night.
+These frolics were not held very often but were usually few and far
+between.
+
+As there was no church on the plantation Mr. Kennon gave them a pass on
+Sundays so that they could attend one of the churches that the town
+afforded. The sermons they heard were preached by a white preacher and
+on rare occasions by a colored preacher. Whenever the colored pastor
+preached there were several white persons present to see that [HW: no]
+doctrine save that laid down by them should be preached. All of the
+marrying on both plantations [TR: duplicate section removed here] was
+done by a preacher.
+
+It has been said that a little learning is a dangerous thing and this
+certainly was true as far as the slaves were concerned, according to
+Mrs. Price. She says: "If any of us were ever caught with a book we
+would get a good whipping." Because of their great fear of such a
+whipping none of them ever attempted to learn to read or to write.
+
+As a general rule Mrs. Price and the other nembers of her family were
+always treated kindly by the Kennon family. None of them were ever
+whipped or mistreated in any way. Mrs. Price says that she has seen
+slaves on the adjoining plantation whipped until the blood ran. She
+describes the sight in the following manner. "The one to be whipped was
+tied across a log or to a tree and then his shirt was dropped around his
+waist and he was lashed with a cow hide whip until his back was raw."
+Whippings like these were given when a slave was unruly or disobedient
+or when he ran away. Before a runaway slave could be whipped he had to
+be caught and the chief way of doing this was to put the blood hounds
+(known to the slaves as "nigger hounds") on the fugitive's trail. Mrs.
+Price once saw a man being taken to his master after he had been caught
+by the dogs. She says that his skin was cut and torn in any number of
+places and he looked like one big mass of blood. Her father once ran
+away to escape a whipping.(this was during the Civil War), and he was
+able to elude the dogs as well as his human pursuers. When asked about
+the final outcome of this escape Mrs. Price replied that her father
+remained in hiding until the war was over with and then he was able to
+show himself without any fear.
+
+She has also seen slaves being whipped by a group of white men when her
+parents said were the "Paddie-Rollers". It was their duty to whip those
+slaves who were caught away from their respective plantations without a
+"pass", she was told.
+
+According to Mrs. Price the jails were built for the "white folks". When
+a slave did something wrong his master punished him.
+
+She does'nt remember anything about the beginning of the Civil War
+neither did she understand its significance until Mr. Kennon died as a
+result of the wounds that he received while in action. This impressed
+itself on her mind indelibly because Mr. Kennon was the first dead
+person she had ever seen. The Yankee troops did'nt come near their
+plantation and so they had a plenty of food to satisfy their needs all
+during the war. Even after the war was over there was still a plenty of
+all the necessities of life.
+
+When Mrs. Kennon informed them that they were free to go or to stay as
+they pleased, her father, who had just come out of hiding, told Mrs.
+Kennon that he did not want to remain on the plantation any longer than
+it was necessary to get his family together. He said that he wanted to
+get out to himself so that he could see how it felt to be free. Mrs.
+Price says that as young as she was she felt very happy because the
+yoke of bondage was gone and she knew that she could have a privelege
+like everybody else. And so she and her family moved away and her
+father began farming for himself. His was prosperous until his death.
+After she left the plantation of her birth she lived with her father
+until she became a grown woman and then she married a Mr. Price who was
+also a farmer.
+
+Mrs. Price believes that she has lived to reach such a ripe old age
+because she has always served God and because she always tried to obey
+those older than she.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-Slave #87]
+
+A FEW FACTS OF SLAVERY BY
+CHARLIE PYE--Ex-Slave
+[Date Stamp: MAY -- --]
+
+
+The writer was much surprised to learn that the person whom she was
+about to interview was nine years old when the Civil War ended. His
+youthful appearance at first made her realize that probably he was not
+an ex-slave after all. Very soon she learned differently. Another
+surprise followed the first in that his memory of events during that
+period was very hazy. The few facts learned are related as follows:
+
+Mr. Charlie Pye was born in Columbus, Ga., 1856 and was the ninth child
+of his parents, Tom Pye and Emmaline Highland. Tom Pye, the father,
+belonged to Volantine Pye, owner of a plantation in Columbus, Ga. known
+as the Lynch and Pye Plantation.
+
+Mr. Pye's mistress was Miss Mary Ealey, who later married a Mr. Watts.
+Miss Ealey owned a large number of slaves, although she did not own a
+very large plantation. Quite a few of her slaves were hired out to other
+owners. The workers on the plantation were divided into two or more
+groups, each group having a different job to do. For instance, there
+were the plow hands, hoe hands, log cutters, etc. Mr. Pye's mother was a
+plow hand and besides this, she often had to cut logs. Mr. Pye was too
+young to work and spent most of his time playing around the yards.
+
+Houses on the Ealey plantation were built of pine poles after which the
+cracks were filled with red mud. Most of these houses consisted of one
+room; however, a few were built with two rooms to accommodate the larger
+families. The beds, called "bunks" by Mr. Pye were nailed to the sides
+of the room. Roped bottoms covered with a mattress of burlap and hay
+served to complete this structure called a bed. Benches and a home made
+table completed the furnishings. There were very few if any real chairs
+found in the slave homes. The houses and furniture were built by skilled
+Negro carpenters who were hired by the mistress from other slave owners.
+A kind slave owner would allow a skilled person to hire his own time and
+keep most of the pay which he earned.
+
+Plenty of food was raised on the Ealey plantation, but the slave
+families were restricted to the same diet of corn meal, syrup, and fat
+bacon. Children were fed "pot likker", milk and bread from poplar
+troughs, from which they ate with wooden spoons. Grown-ups ate with
+wooden forks. Slaves were not allowed to raise gardens of their own,
+although Mr. Pye's uncle was given the privilege of owning a rice patch,
+which he worked at night.
+
+In every slave home was found a wooden loom which was operated by hands
+and feet, and from which the cloth for their clothing was made. When the
+work in the fields was finished women were required to come home and
+spin one cut (thread) at night. Those who were not successful in
+completing this work were punished the next morning. Men wore cotton
+shirts and pants which were dyed different colors with red oak bark,
+alum and copper. Copper produced an "Indigo blue color." "I have often
+watched dye in the process of being made," remarked Mr. Pye. Mr. Pye's
+father was a shoemaker and made all shoes needed on the plantation. The
+hair was removed from the hides by a process known as tanning. Red oak
+bark was often used for it produced an acid which proved very effective
+in tanning hides. Slaves were given shoes every three months.
+
+To see that everyone continued working an overseer rode over the
+plantation keeping check on the workers. If any person was caught
+resting he was given a sound whipping. Mr. Pye related the following
+incident which happened on the Ealey plantation. "A young colored girl
+stopped to rest for a few minutes and my uncle stopped also and spoke to
+her. During this conversation the overseer came up and began whipping
+the girl with a "sapling tree." My uncle became very angry and picked up
+an axe and hit the overseer in the head, killing him. The mistress was
+very fond of my uncle and kept him hid until she could "run him."
+Running a slave was the method they used in sending a slave to another
+state in order that he could escape punishment and be sold again. You
+were only given this privilege if it so happened that you were cared for
+by your mistress and master."
+
+Overseers on the Ealey plantation were very cruel and whipped slaves
+unmercifully. Another incident related by Mr. Pye was as follows:
+
+"My mother resented being whipped and would run away to the woods and
+often remained as long as twelve months at a time. When the strain of
+staying away from her family became too great, she would return home. No
+sooner would she arrive than the old overseer would tie her to a peach
+tree and whip her again. The whipping was done by a "Nigger Driver," who
+followed the overseer around with a bull whip; especially for this
+purpose. The largest man on the plantation was chosen to be the "Nigger
+Driver."
+
+"Every slave had to attend church, although there were no separate
+churches provided for them. However, they were allowed to occupy the
+benches which were placed in the rear of the church. To attend church on
+another plantation, slaves had to get a pass or suffer punishment from
+the "Pader Rollers." (Patrollers)
+
+"We didn't marry on our plantation", remarked Mr. Pye. After getting the
+consent of both masters the couple jumped the broom, and that ended the
+so called ceremony. Following the marriage there was no frolic or
+celebration.
+
+"Sometimes quilting parties were held in the various cabins on the
+plantation. Everyone would assist in making the winter bed covering for
+one family one night and the next night for some other family, and so on
+until everyone had sufficient bed covering.
+
+"A doctor was only called when a person had almost reached the last
+stages of illness. Illness was often an excuse to remain away from the
+field. "Blue mass pills", castor oil, etc. were kept for minor aches and
+pains. When a slave died he was buried as quickly as a box could be
+nailed together.
+
+"I often heard of people refugeeing during the Civil War period,"
+remarked Mr. Pye. "In fact, our mistress refugeed to Alabama trying to
+avoid meeting the Yanks, but they came in another direction. On one
+occasion the Yanks came to our plantation, took all the best mules and
+horses, after which they came to my mother's cabin and made her cook
+eggs for them. They kept so much noise singing, "I wish I was in Dixie"
+that I could not sleep. After freedom we were kept in ignorance for
+quite a while but when we learned the truth my mother was glad to move
+away with us."
+
+"Immediately after the war ex-slave families worked for one-third and
+one-fourth of the crops raised on different plantations. Years later
+families were given one-half of the crops raised."
+
+Mr. Pye ended the interview by telling the writer that he married at
+the age of 35 years and was the father of two children, one of whom is
+living. He is a Baptist, belonging to Mount Zion Church, and has
+attended church regularly and believes that by leading a clean, useful
+life he has lengthened his days on this earth. During his lifetime Mr.
+Pye followed railroad work. Recently, however, he has had to give this
+up because of his health.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave #91]
+
+SUBJECT: CHARLOTTE RAINES--OGLETHORPE CO.
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1
+RESEARCH WORKER: JOHN N. BOOTH
+DATE: JANUARY 18, 1937
+[Date Stamp: JAN 26 1937]
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Aunt Charlotte Raines, well up in the seventies at the time of her death
+some years ago, was an excellent example of the type of negro developed
+by the economic system of the old South.
+
+When I could first remember, Charlotte was supreme ruler of the kitchen
+of my home. Thin to emaciation and stooped almost to the point of having
+a hump on her back she was yet wiry and active. Her gnarled old hands
+could turn out prodigous amounts of work when she chose to extend
+herself.
+
+Her voice was low and musical and she seldom raised it above the
+ordinary tone of conversation; yet when she spoke other colored people
+hastened to obey her and even the whites took careful note of what she
+said. Her head was always bound in a snow-white turban. She wore calico
+or gingham print dresses and white aprons and these garments always
+appeared to be freshly laundered.
+
+Charlotte seldom spoke unless spoken to and she would never tell very
+much about her early life. She had been trained as personal maid to one
+of her ex-master's daughters. This family, (that of Swepson H. Cox) was
+one of the most cultured and refined that Lexington, in Oglethorpe
+County, could boast.
+
+Aunt Charlotte never spoke of her life under the old regime but she had
+supreme contempt for "no count niggers that didn't hav' no white Folks".
+She was thrifty and frugal. Having a large family, most of her small
+earnings was spent on them. However, she early taught her children to
+scratch for themselves. Two of her daughters died after they had each
+brought several children into the world. Charlotte thought they were
+being neglected by their fathers and proceeded to take them "to raise
+myse'f". These grand children were the apple of her eye and she did much
+more for them than she had done for her own children.
+
+The old woman had many queer ways. Typical of her eccentricities was her
+iron clad refusal to touch one bite of food in our house. If she wished
+a dish she was preparing tasted to see that it contained the proper
+amount of each ingredient she would call some member of the family,
+usually my grandmother, and ask that he or she sample the food.
+Paradoxically, she had no compunctions about the amount of food she
+carried home for herself and her family.
+
+Strange as it may seem, Charlotte was an incorrigible rogue. My mother
+and my grandmother both say that they have seen her pull up her skirts
+and drop things into a flour sack which she always wore tied round her
+waist just for this purpose. I myself have seen this sack so full that
+it would bump against her knee. She did not confine her thefts to food
+only. She would also take personal belongings. Another servant in the
+household once found one of Aunt Charlotte's granddaughters using a
+compact that she had stolen from her young mistress. The servant took
+the trinket away from the girl and returned it to the owner but nothing
+was ever said to Aunt Charlotte although every one knew she had stolen
+it.
+
+One year when the cherry crop was exceptionally heavy, grandmother had
+Charlotte make up a huge batch of cherry preserves in an iron pot. While
+Charlotte was out of the kitchen for a moment she went in to have a look
+at the preserves and found that about half of them had been taken out. A
+careful but hurried search located the missing portion hidden in another
+container behind the stove. Grandmother never said a word but simply put
+the amount that had been taken out back in the pot.
+
+Charlotte never permitted anyone to take liberties with her except Uncle
+Daniel, the "man of all work" and another ex-slave. Daniel would josh
+her about some "beau" or about her over-fondness for her grandchildren.
+She would take just so much of this and then with a quiet "g'long with
+you", she would send him on about his business. Once when he pressed her
+a bit too far she hurled a butcher knife at him.
+
+Charlotte was not a superstitious soul. She did not even believe that
+the near-by screech of an owl was an omen of death. However, she did
+have some fearful and wonderful folk remedies.
+
+When you got a bee sting Charlotte made Daniel spit tobacco juice on it.
+She always gave a piece of fat meat to babies because this would make
+them healthy all their lives. Her favorite remedy was to put a pan of
+cold water under the bed to stop "night sweats."
+
+In her last years failing eye-sight and general ill health forced her to
+give up her active life. Almost a complete shut-in, she had a window cut
+on the north side of her room so she could "set and see whut went on up
+at Mis' Molly's" (her name for my grandmother).
+
+She was the perfect hostess and whenever any member of our family went
+to see how she did during those latter days she always served locust
+beer and cookies. Once when I took her a bunch of violets she gave me an
+old coin that she had carried on her person for years. Mother didn't
+want me to take it because Charlotte's husband had given it to her and
+she set great store by it. However, the old woman insisted that I be
+allowed to keep the token arguing it would not be of use to her much
+longer anyway.
+
+She died about a month later and in accordance with her instructions her
+funeral was conducted like "white folk's buryin'", that is without the
+night being filled with wailing and minus the usual harangue at the
+church. Even in death Charlotte still thought silence golden.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave #90]
+
+SUBJECT: FANNY RANDOLPH--EX-SLAVE
+         Jefferson, Georgia
+RESEARCH WORKER: MRS. MATTIE B. ROBERTS
+EDITOR: JOHN N. BOOTH
+SUPERVISOR: MISS VELMA BELL
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1
+DATE: MARCH 29, 1937
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Perhaps the oldest ex-slave living today is found in Jefferson, Georgia.
+Fanny Randolph is a little old wrinkled-faced woman, but at the time of
+our visit she was very neat in a calico dress and a white apron with a
+bandanna handkerchief around her head.
+
+We saw her at the home of a niece with whom she lives, all of her own
+family being dead. Her room was tidy, and she had a bright log fire
+burning in the wide old fire place. She readily consented to talk about
+slavery times.
+
+"Honey, I doan know how ole I is, but I'se been here er long time and
+I'se been told by folks whut knows, dat I'se, maybe, mo' dan er hunderd
+years ole. I 'members back er long time befo' de war. My mammy and daddy
+wuz bofe slaves. My daddy's name wuz Daniel White an' my mammy's name
+befo' she married wuz Sarah Moon, she b'longed ter Marse Bob Moon who
+lived in Jackson County over near whar Winder is now. He wuz er big
+landowner an' had lots uv slaves."
+
+"When I wuz 'bout nine years ole, Marse Bob tuk me up ter de "big house"
+ter wait on ole Mistis. I didn't hav' much ter do, jes' had ter he'p 'er
+dress an' tie 'er shoes an' run eroun' doin' errands fur 'er. Yer know,
+in dem times, de white ladies had niggers ter wait on 'em an' de big
+niggers done all de hard wuk 'bout de house an' yard."
+
+"Atter some years my mammy an' daddy bofe died, so I jes' stayed at de
+"big house" an' wukked on fer Marse Bob an' ole Mistis."
+
+"Atter I growed up, us niggers on Marse Bob's plantation had big times
+at our corn shuckin's an' dances. Us 'ud all git tergether at one uv de
+cabins an us 'ud have er big log fire an' er room ter dance in. Den when
+us had all shucked corn er good while ever nigger would git his gal an'
+dey would be some niggers over in de corner ter play fer de dance, one
+wid er fiddle an' one ter beat straws, an' one wid er banjo, an' one ter
+beat bones, an' when de music 'ud start up (dey gener'ly played 'Billy
+in de Low Grounds' or 'Turkey in de Straw') us 'ud git on de flo'. Den
+de nigger whut called de set would say: 'All join hands an' circle to de
+lef, back to de right, swing corners, swing partners, all run away!' An'
+de way dem niggers feets would fly!"
+
+"Bye an' bye de war come on, an' all de men folks had ter go an' fight
+de Yankees, so us wimmen folks an' chillun had er hard time den caze us
+all had ter look atter de stock an' wuk in de fiel's. Den us 'ud hear
+all 'bout how de Yankees wuz goin' aroun' an' skeerin' de wimmen folks
+mos' ter death goin' in dey houses an' making de folks cook 'em stuff
+ter eat, den tearin' up an' messin' up dey houses an' den marchin' on
+off."
+
+"Den when ole Mistis 'ud hear de Yankees wuz comin' she'd call us
+niggers en us 'ud take all de china, silver, and de joolry whut b'longed
+ter ole Miss an' her family an' dig deep holes out b'hind de smoke-house
+or under de big house, en bury h'it all 'tell de Yankees 'ud git by."
+
+"Dem wuz dark days, but atter er long time de war wuz over an' dey tole
+us us wuz free, I didn't want ter leave my white folks so I stayed on
+fer sometime, but atter while de nigger come erlong whut I married. His
+name wuz Tom Randolph an' befo' de war he b'longed ter Marse Joshua
+Randolph, who lived at Jefferson, so den us moved ter Jefferson. Us had
+thirteen chillun, but dey's all daid now an' my ole man is daid too, so
+I'se here all by my se'f an' ef h'it warn't fer my two nieces here, who
+lets me liv' wid 'em I doan know whut I'd do."
+
+"I'se allus tried ter do de right thin' an' de good Lawd is takin' keer
+uv me fer his prophet say in de Good Book, 'I'se been young and now am
+ole, yet I'se nebber seed de righteous fersaken ner his seed beggin'
+bread!' So I ain't worryin' 'bout sumpin' ter eat, but I doan want ter
+stay here much longer onless h'its de good Lawds will."
+
+Asked if she was superstitious, she said: "Well when I wuz young, I
+reckin' I wuz, but now my pore ole mine is jes so tired and h'it doan
+wuk lak h'it uster, so I never does think much 'bout superstition, but I
+doan lak ter heer er "squinch owl" holler in de night, fer h'it sho is a
+sign some uv yore folks is goin' ter die, en doan brin' er ax froo de
+house onless yer take h'it back de same way yer brung h'it in, fer dat
+'ill kill de bad luck."
+
+When asked if she believed in ghosts or could "see sights" she said:
+"Well, Miss, yer know if yer is borned wid er veil over yer face yer can
+see sights but I has never seed any ghosts er sight's, I warn't born dat
+way, but my niece, here has seed ghostes, en she can tell yer 'bout
+dat."
+
+When we were ready to leave we said, "Well, Aunt Fanny, we hope you live
+for many more years." She replied: "I'se willin' ter go on livin' ez
+long ez de Marster wants me ter, still I'se ready when de summons comes.
+De good Lawd has allus giv' me grace ter liv' by, an' I know He'll giv'
+me dyin' grace when my time comes."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex-slave #94]
+
+Alberta Minor
+Re-search Worker
+
+SHADE RICHARDS, Ex-slave
+East Solomon Street
+Griffin, Georgia
+
+September 14, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Shade Richards was born January 13, 1846 on the Jimpson Neals plantation
+below Zebulon in Pike County. His father, Alfred Richards had been
+brought from Africa and was owned by Mr. Williams on an adjoining
+plantation. His mother, Easter Richards was born in Houston County but
+sold to Mr. Neal. Shade being born on the plantation was Mr. Neal's
+property. He was the youngest of 11 children. His real name was
+"Shadrack" and the brother just older than he was named "Meshack".
+Sometimes the mothers named the babies but most of the time the masters
+did. Mr. Neal did Shade's "namin'".
+
+Shade's father came two or three times a month to see his family on Mr.
+Neal's plantation always getting a "pass" from his master for "niggers"
+didn't dare go off their own plantation without a "pass". Before the war
+Shade's grandfather came from Africa to buy his son and take him home,
+but was taken sick and both father and son died. Shade's earliest
+recollections of his mother are that she worked in the fields until "she
+was thru' bornin' chillun" then she was put in charge of the milk and
+butter. There were 75 or 80 cows to be milked twice a day and she had to
+have 5 or 6 other women helpers.
+
+Mr. Neal had several plantations in different localities and his family
+did not live on this one in Pike County but he made regular visits to
+each one. It had no name, was just called "Neal's Place." It consisted
+of thirteen hundred acres. There were always two or three hundred slaves
+on the place, besides the ones he just bought and sold for "tradin'". He
+didn't like "little nigger men" and when he happened to find one among
+his slaves he would turn the dogs on him and let them run him down. The
+boys were not allowed to work in the fields until they were 12 years
+old, but they had to wait on the hands, such as carrying water, running
+back to the shop with tools and for tools, driving wagons of corn, wheat
+etc. to the mill to be ground and any errands they were considered big
+enough to do. Shade worked in the fields when he became 12 years old.
+
+This plantation was large and raised everything--corn, wheat, cotton,
+"taters", tobacco, fruit, vegetables, rice, sugar cane, horses, mules,
+goats, sheep, and hogs. They kept all that was needed to feed the slaves
+then sent the surplus to Savannah by the "Curz". The stage took
+passengers, but the "Curz" was 40 or 50 wagons that took the farm
+surplus to Savannah, and "fetched back things for de house."
+
+Mr. Neal kept 35 or 40 hounds that had to be cooked for. He was "rich
+with plenty of money" always good to his slaves and didn't whip them
+much, but his son, "Mr. Jimmy, sure was a bad one". Sometimes he'd use
+the cow hide until it made blisters, then hit them with the flat of the
+hand saw until they broke and next dip the victim into a tub of salty
+water. It often killed the "nigger" but "Mr. Jimmy" didn't care. He
+whipped Shade's uncle to death.
+
+When the "hog killin' time come" it took 150 nigger men a week to do it.
+The sides, shoulders, head and jowls were kept to feed the slaves on and
+the rest was shipped to Savannah. Mr. Neal was good to his slaves and
+gave them every Saturday to "play" and go to the "wrestling school". At
+Xmas they had such a good time, would go from house to house, the boys
+would fiddle and they'd have a drink of liquor at each house. The liquor
+was plentiful for they bought it in barrels. The plantations took turn
+about having "Frolics" when they "fiddled and danced" all night.
+
+If it wasn't on your own plantation you sure had to have a "pass". When
+a slave wanted to "jine the church" the preacher asked his master if he
+was a "good nigger", if the master "spoke up for you", you were "taken
+in," but if he didn't you weren't. The churches had a pool for the
+Baptist Preachers to baptize in and the Methodist Preacher sprinkled.
+
+Mr. Neal "traded" with Dr. by the year and whenever the slaves were hurt
+or sick he had to come "tend" to them. He gave the families their food
+by the month, but if it gave out all they had to do was to ask for more
+and he always gave it to them. They had just as good meals during the
+week as on Sunday, any kind of meat out of the smoke house, chickens,
+squabs, fresh beef, shoats, sheep, biscuits or cornbread, rice,
+potatoes, beans, syrup and any garden vegetables. Sometimes they went
+fishing to add to their menu.
+
+The single male slaves lived together in the "boy house" and had just as
+much as others. There were a lot of women who did nothing but sew,
+making work clothes for the hands. Their Sunday clothes were bought with
+the money they made off the little "patches" the master let them work
+for themselves.
+
+Mr. Jimmy took Shade to the war with him. Shade had to wait on him as a
+body servant then tend to the two horses. Bullets went through Shade's
+coat and hat many times but "de Lord was takin' care" of him and he
+didn't get hurt. They were in the battle of Appomatox and "at the
+surrenderin'," April 8, 1865, but the "evidence warn't sworn out until
+May 29, so that's when the niggers celebrate emancipation."
+
+Shade's brother helped lay the R.R. from Atlanta to Macon so the
+Confederate soldiers and ammunition could move faster.
+
+In those days a negro wasn't grown until he was 21 regardless of how
+large he was. Shade was "near 'bout" grown when the war was over but
+worked for Mr. Neal four years. His father and mother rented a patch,
+mule and plow from Mr. Neal and the family was together. At first they
+gave the niggers only a tenth of what they raised but they couldn't get
+along on it and after a "lot of mouthin' about it" they gave them a
+third. That wasn't enough to live on either so more "mouthin" about it
+until they gave them a half, "and thats what they still gits today."
+
+When the slaves went 'courtin' and the man and woman decided to get
+married, they went to the man's master for permission then to the
+woman's master. There was no ceremony if both masters said "alright"
+they were considered married and it was called "jumpin' the broomstick."
+
+Signs were "more true" in the olden days than now. God lead his people
+by dreams then. One night Shade dreamed of a certain road he used to
+walk over often and at the fork he found a lead pencil, then a little
+farther on he dreamed of a purse with $2.43 in it. Next day he went
+farther and just like the dream he found the pocketbook with $2.43 in
+it.
+
+Shade now works at the Kincaid Mill No. 2, he makes sacks and takes up
+waste. He thinks he's lived so long because he never eats hot food or
+takes any medicine. "People takes too much medicine now days" he says
+and when he feels bad he just smokes his corn cob pipe or takes a chew
+of tobacco.
+
+
+
+
+DORA ROBERTS
+
+
+Dora Roberts was born in 1849 and was a slave of Joseph Maxwell of
+Liberty County. The latter owned a large number of slaves and
+plantations in both Liberty and Early Counties. During the war "Salem"
+the plantation in Liberty County was sold and the owner moved to Early
+County where he owned two plantations known as "Nisdell" and "Rosedhu".
+
+Today, at 88 years of age, Aunt Dora is a fine specimen of the fast
+disappearing type of ante-bellum Negro. Her shrewd dark eyes glowing, a
+brown paper sack perched saucily on her white cottony hair, and puffing
+contentedly on an old corn cob pipe, the old woman began her recital
+what happened during plantation days.
+
+"Dey is powerful much to tell ob de days ob slabry, chile, an' it come
+to me in pieces. Dis story ain't in no rotation 'cause my mind it don't
+do dat kinda function, but I tell it as it come ta me. De colored folks
+had dey fun as well as dey trials and tribulations, 'cause dat Sat'day
+nigh dance at de plantation wuz jist de finest ting we wanted in dem
+days. All de slabes fum de udder plantation dey cum ta our barn an' jine
+in an' if dey had a gal on dis plantation dey lob, den dat wuz da time
+dey would court. Dey would swing to de band dat made de music. My
+brother wuz de captain ob de quill band an' dey sure could make you
+shout an' dance til you quz [TR: wuz?] nigh 'bout exhausted. Atta
+findin' ya gal ta dat dance den you gits passes to come courtin' on
+Sundays. Den de most ob dom dey wants git married an' dey must den git
+de consent fum de massa ceremonies wuz read ober dem and de man git
+passes fo' de week-end ta syat [TR: stay?] wid his wife. But de slabes
+dey got togedder an' have dem jump over de broom stick an' have a big
+celebration an' dance an' make merry 'til morning and it's time fo' work
+agin.
+
+"We worked de fields an' kep' up de plantation 'til freedom. Ebry
+Wednesday de massa come visit us an look ober de plantation ta see dat
+all is well. He talk ta de obersheer an' find out how good de work is.
+We lub de massa an' work ha'd fo' him.
+
+"Ah kin 'member dat Wednesday night plain as it wuz yesterday. It seems
+lak de air 'round de quarters an' de big house filled wid excitement;
+eben de wind seem lak it wuz waitin' fo' som'ting. De dogs an' de
+pickaninnies dey sleep lazy like 'gainst de big gate waitin' fo' de
+crack ob dat whip which wuz de signal dat Julius wuz bringin' de master
+down de long dribe under de oaks. Chile, us all wuz happy knowin' date
+de fun would start.
+
+"All of a sudden you hear dem chilluns whoop, an' de dogs bark, den de
+car'age roll up wid a flourish, an' de coachman dressed in de fines' git
+out an' place de cookie try on de groun'. Den dey all gadder in de
+circle an' fo' dey git dey supply, dey got ta do de pigeon wing.
+
+"Chile, you ain't neber seen sich flingin' ob de arms an' legs in yo'
+time. Dem pickaninnies dey had de natural born art ob twistin' dey body
+any way dey wish. Dat dere ting dey calls truckin' now an' use to be
+chimmy, ain't had no time wid de dancin' dem chilluns do. Dey claps dey
+hands and keep de time, while dat old brudder ob mine he blows de
+quills. Massa he would allus bring de big tray ob 'lasses cookies fo'
+all de chilluns. Fast as de tray would empty, Massa send ta de barrel
+fo' more. De niggers do no work dat day, but dey jist celebrate.
+
+"Atta de war broke out we wuz all ca'yhed up to de plantation in Early
+County to stay 'til atta de war. De day de mancipation wuz read dey wuz
+sadness an' gladness. De ole Massa he call us all togedder an' wid tears
+in his eyes he say--'You is all free now an' you can go jist whar you
+please. I hab no more jurisdiction ober you. All who stay will be well
+cared for.' But de most ob us wanted to come back to de place whar we
+libed befo'--Liberty County.
+
+"So he outfitted de wagons wid horses an' mules an' gib us what dey wuz
+ob privisions on de plantation an' sent us on our way ta de ole
+plantation in Liberty County. Dare wuz six horses ta de wagons. 'Long de
+way de wagons broke down 'cause de mules ain't had nothin' ta eat an'
+most ob dem died. We git in sich a bad fix some ob de people died. When
+it seem lak we wuz all gwine die, a planter come along de road an' he
+stopped ta find out what wuz de matter. Wan he heard our story an' who
+our master wuz he git a message to him 'bout us.
+
+"It seem lak de good Lord musta answered de prayers ob his chillun fo'
+'long way down de road we seed our Massa comin' an' he brung men an'
+horses to git us safely ta de ole home. When he got us dare, I neber see
+him no more 'cause he went back up in Early County an' atta I work dere
+at de plantation a long time den I come ta de city whyah my sister be
+wid one ob my master's oldest daughters--a Mrs. Dunwodies[TR: ?? first
+letter of name not readable], who she wuz nursin' fo'.
+
+"An' dat's 'bout all dey is ta tell. When I sits an' rocks here on de
+porch it all comes back ta me. Seems sometimes lak I wuz still dere on
+de plantation. An' it seem lak it's mos' time fo' de massa ta be comin'
+ta see how tings are goin'."
+
+
+
+
+Written by Ruth Chitty
+Research Worker
+District #2
+Rewritten by Velma Bell
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW: AUNT FEREBE ROGERS
+Baldwin County
+Milledgeville, Ga.
+
+
+More than a century lies in the span of memory of "Aunt Ferebe" Rogers.
+The interviewers found her huddled by the fireside, all alone while her
+grandaughter worked on a WPA Project to make the living for them both.
+In spite of her years and her frail physique, her memory was usually
+clear, only occasionally becoming too misty for scenes to stand out
+plainly. Her face lighted with a reminiscent smile when she was asked to
+"tell us something about old times."
+
+"I 'members a whole heap 'bout slav'ey times. Law, honey, when freedom
+come I had five chillen. Five chillen and ten cents!" and her crackled
+laughter was spirited.
+
+"Dey says I'm a hundred and eight or nine years old, but I don't think
+I'm quite as old as dat. I knows I'se over a hundred, dough.
+
+"I was bred and born on a plantation on Brier Creek in Baldwin County.
+My ole marster was Mr. Sam Hart. He owned my mother. She had thirteen
+chillen. I was de oldest, so I tuck devil's fare.
+
+"My daddy was a ole-time free nigger. He was a good shoe-maker, and
+could make as fine shoes and boots as ever you see. But he never would
+work till he was plumb out o' money--den he had to work. But he quit
+jes' soon as he made a little money. Mr. Chat Morris (he had a regular
+shoe shop)--he offered him studdy work makin' boots and shoes for him.
+Was go'n' pay him $300. a year. But he wouldn't take it. Was too lazy.
+De ole-time free niggers had to tell how dey make dey livin', and if dey
+couldn't give satisfaction 'bout it, dey was put on de block and sold to
+de highest bidder. Most of 'em sold for 3 years for $50. My daddy
+brought $100. when he was sold for three or four years.
+
+"I was on de block twice myself. When de old head died dey was so many
+slaves for de chillen to draw for, we was put on de block. Mr. John
+Baggett bought me den; said I was a good breedin' 'oman. Den later, one
+de young Hart marsters bought me back.
+
+"All de slaves had diff'unt work to do. My auntie was one de weavers.
+Old Miss had two looms goin' all de time. She had a old loom and a new
+loom. My husband made de new loom for Old Miss. He was a carpenter and
+he worked on outside jobs after he'd finished tasks for his marster. He
+use to make all de boxes dey buried de white folks and de slaves in, on
+de Hart and Golden Plantations. Dey was pretty as you see, too.
+
+"I was a fiel' han' myself. I come up twix' de plow handles. I warn't de
+fastes' one wid a hoe, but I didn't turn my back on nobody plowin'. No,
+_mam_.
+
+"My marster had over a thousand acres o' land. He was good to us. We had
+plenty to eat, like meat and bread and vegetables. We raised eve'ything
+on de plantation--wheat, corn, potatoes, peas, hogs, cows, sheep,
+chickens--jes' eve'ything.
+
+"All de clo'es was made on de plantation, too. Dey spun de thread from
+cotton and wool, and dyed it and wove it. We had cutters and dem dat
+done de sewin'. I still got de fus' dress my husband give me. Lemme show
+it to you."
+
+Gathering her shawl about her shoulders, and reaching for her stick, she
+hobbled across the room to an old hand-made chest.
+
+"My husband made dis chis' for me." Raising the top, she began to search
+eagerly through the treasured bits of clothing for the "robe-tail
+muslin" that had been the gift of a long-dead husband. One by one the
+garments came out--her daughter's dress, two little bonnets all faded
+and worn ("my babies' bonnets"), her husband's coat.
+
+"And dat's my husband's mother's bonnet. It use to be as pretty a black
+as you ever see. It's faded brown now. It was dyed wid walnut."
+
+The chest yielded up old cotton cards, and horns that had been used to
+call the slaves. Finally the "robe-tail muslin" came to light. The soft
+material, so fragile with age that a touch sufficed to reduce it still
+further to rags, was made with a full skirt and plain waist, and still
+showed traces of a yellow color and a sprigged design.
+
+"My husband was Kinchen Rogers. His marster was Mr. Bill Golden, and he
+live 'bout fo' mile from where I stayed on de Hart plantation."
+
+"Aunt Ferebe, how did you meet your husband?"
+
+"Well, you see, us slaves went to de white folks church a-Sunday.
+Marster, he was a prim'tive Baptis', and he try to keep his slaves from
+goin' to other churches. We had baptisin's fust Sundays. Back in dem
+days dey baptised in de creek, but at de windin' up o' freedom, dey dug
+a pool. I went to church Sundays, and dat's where I met my husband. I
+been ma'ied jes' one time. He de daddy o' all my chillen'. (I had
+fifteen in all.)"
+
+"Who married you, Aunt Ferebe. Did you have a license?"
+
+"Who ever heered a nigger havin' a license?" and she rocked with
+high-pitched laughter.
+
+"Young marster was fixin' to ma'y us, but he got col' feet, and a
+nigger by name o' Enoch Golden ma'ied us. He was what we called a
+'double-headed nigger'--he could read and write, and he knowed so much.
+On his dyin' bed he said he been de death o' many a nigger 'cause he
+taught so many to read and write.
+
+"Me and my husband couldn't live together till after freedom 'cause we
+had diffunt marsters. When freedom come, marster wanted all us niggers
+to sign up to stay till Chris'man. Bless, yo' soul, I didn't sign up. I
+went to my husband! But he signed up to stay wid his marster till
+Chris'man. After dat we worked on shares on de Hart plantation; den we
+farmed fo'-five years wid Mr. Bill Johnson."
+
+"Aunt Ferebe, are these better times, or do you think slavery times were
+happier?"
+
+"Well, now, you ax me for de truth, didn't you?--and I'm goin' to tell
+yo' de truth. I don't tell no lies. Yes, mam, dese has been better times
+to me. I think hit's better to work for yourself and have what you make
+dan to work for somebody else and don't git nuttin' out it. Slav'ey days
+was mighty hard. My marster was good to us (I mean he didn't beat us
+much, and he give us plenty plain food) but some slaves suffered awful.
+My aunt was beat cruel once, and lots de other slaves. When dey got
+ready to beat yo', dey'd strip you' stark mother naked and dey'd say,
+'Come here to me, God damn you! Come to me clean! Walk up to dat tree,
+and damn you, hug dat tree! Den dey tie yo' hands 'round de tree, den
+tie yo' feets; den dey'd lay de rawhide on you and cut yo' buttocks
+open. Sometimes dey'd rub turpentine and salt in de raw places, and den
+beat you some mo'. Oh, hit was awful! And what could you do? Dey had all
+de 'vantage of you.
+
+"I never did git no beatin' like dat, but I got whuppin's--plenty o'
+'em. I had plenty o' devilment in me, but I quit all my devilment when I
+was ma'ied. I use to fight--fight wid anything I could git my han's on.
+
+"You had to have passes to go from one plantation to 'nother. Some de
+niggers would slip off sometime and go widout a pass, or maybe marster
+was busy and dey didn't want to bother him for a pass, so dey go widout
+one. In eve'y dee-strick dey had 'bout twelve men dey call patterollers.
+Dey ride up and down and aroun' looking for niggers widout passes. If
+dey ever caught you off yo' plantation wid no pass, dey beat you all
+over.
+
+"Yes'm, I 'member a song 'bout--
+
+  'Run, nigger, run, de patteroller git you,
+   Slip over de fence slick as a eel,
+   White man ketch you by de heel,
+   Run, nigger run!'"
+
+No amount of coaxing availed to make her sing the whole of the song, or
+to tell any more of the words.
+
+"When slaves run away, dey always put de blood-hounds on de tracks.
+Marster always kep' one hound name' Rock. I can hear 'im now when dey
+was on de track, callin', 'Hurrah, Rock, hurrah, Rock! Ketch 'im!'
+
+"Dey always send Rock to fetch 'im down when dey foun' 'im. Dey had de
+dogs trained to keep dey teef out you till dey tole 'em to bring you
+down. Den de dogs 'ud go at yo' th'oat, and dey'd tear you to pieces,
+too. After a slave was caught, he was brung home and put in chains.
+
+"De marsters let de slaves have little patches o' lan' for deyse'ves. De
+size o' de patch was 'cordin' to de size o' yo' family. We was 'lowed
+'bout fo' acres. We made 'bout five hundred pounds o' lint cotton, and
+sol' it at Warrenton. Den we used de money to buy stuff for Chris'man."
+
+"Did you have big times at Christmas, Aunt Ferebe?"
+
+"Chris'man--huh!--Chris'man warn't no diffunt from other times. We used
+to have quiltin' parties, candy pullin's, dances, corn shuckin's, games
+like thimble and sich like."
+
+Aunt Ferebe refused to sing any of the old songs. "No, mam, I ain't
+go'n' do dat. I th'oo wid all dat now. Yes, mam, I 'members 'em all
+right, but I ain't go'n' sing 'em. No'm, nor say de words neither. All
+dat's pas' now.
+
+"Course dey had doctors in dem days, but we used mostly home-made
+medicines. I don't believe in doctors much now. We used sage tea, ginger
+tea, rosemary tea--all good for colds and other ail-ments, too.
+
+"We had men and women midwives. Dr. Cicero Gibson was wid me when my
+fus' baby come. I was twenty-five years old den. My baby chile
+seventy-five now."
+
+"Auntie, did you learn to read and write?"
+
+"No, _mam_, I'd had my right arm cut off at de elbow if I'd a-done dat.
+If dey foun' a nigger what could read and write, dey'd cut yo' arm off
+at de elbow, or sometimes at de shoulder."
+
+In answer to a query about ghosts, she said--"No, mam, I ain't seed
+nuttin' like dat. Folks come tellin' me dey see sich and sich a thing. I
+say hit's de devil dey see. I ain't seed nuttin' yit. No'm, I don't
+believe in no signs, neither."
+
+"Do you believe a screeeh owl has anything to do with death?"
+
+"Yes, mam, 'fo' one my chillen died, squinch owl come to my house ev'ey
+night and holler. After de chile die he ain't come no mo'. Cows mooin'
+or dogs howlin' after dark means death, too.
+
+"No, man, I don't believe in no cunjurs. One cunjur-man come here once.
+He try his bes' to overcome me, but he couldn't do nuttin' wid me. After
+dat, he tole my husband he couldn't do nuttin' to me, 'cause I didn't
+believe in him, and dem cunjur-folks can't hurt you less'n you believes
+in 'em. He say he could make de sun stan' still, and do wonders, but I
+knowed dat warn't so, 'cause can't nobody stop de sun 'cep' de man what
+made hit, and dat's God. I don't believe in no cunjurs.
+
+"I don't pay much 'tention to times o' de moon to do things, neither. I
+plants my garden when I gits ready. But bunch beans does better if you
+plants 'em on new moon in Ap'il. Plant butterbeans on full moon in
+Ap'il--potatoes fus' o' March.
+
+"When de war broke out de damn Yankees come to our place dey done
+eve'ything dat was bad. Dey burn eve'ything dey couldn't use, and dey
+tuck a heap o' corn. Marster had a thousand bushels de purtiest shucked
+corn, all nice good ears, in de pen at de house. Dey tuck all dat.
+Marster had some corn pens on de river, dough, dey didn't find. I jes'
+can't tell you all dey done.
+
+"How come I live so long, you say?--I don't know--jes' de goodness o' de
+Lawd, I reckon. I worked hard all my life, and always tried to do
+right."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave #92]
+
+HENRY ROGERS of WASHINGTON-WILKES
+by Minnie Branham Stonestreet
+Washington-Wilkes
+Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Henry Rogers of Washington-Wilkes is known by almost every one in the
+town and county. To the men around town he is "Deacon", to his old
+friends back in Hancock County (Georgia) where he was born and reared,
+he is "Brit"; to everybody else he is "Uncle Henry", and he is a friend
+to all. For forty-one years he has lived in Washington-Wilkes where he
+has worked as waiter, as lot man, and as driver for a livery stable when
+he "driv drummers" around the country anywhere they wanted to go and in
+all kinds of weather. He is proud that he made his trips safely and was
+always on time. Then when automobiles put the old time livery stables
+out of business he went to work in a large furniture and undertaking
+establishment where he had charge of the colored department. Finally he
+decided to accept a job as janitor and at one time was janitor for three
+banks in town. He is still working as janitor in two buildings, despite
+his seventy-three years.
+
+Uncle Henry's "book learning" is very limited, but he has a store of
+knowledge gathered here and there that is surprising. He uses very
+little dialect except when he is excited or worried. He speaks of his
+heart as "my time keeper". When he promises anything in the future he
+says, "Please the Lord to spare me", and when anyone gets a bit
+impatient he bids them, "Be paciable, be paciable". Dismal is one of his
+favorite words but it is always "dism". When he says "Now, I'm tellin'
+yer financially" or "dat's financial", he means that he is being very
+frank and what he is saying is absolutely true.
+
+Regarded highly as the local weather prophet, Uncle Henry gets up every
+morning before daybreak and scans the heavens to see what kind of
+weather is on its way. He guards all these "signs" well and under no
+consideration will he tell them. They were given to him by someone who
+has passed on and he keeps them as a sacred trust. If asked, upon making
+a prediction, "How do you know?" Uncle Henry shakes his wise old head
+and with a wave of the hand says, "Dat's all right, you jess see now,
+it's goin' ter be dat way". And it usually is!
+
+Seventy-three years ago "last gone June" Uncle Henry was born in the Mt.
+Zion community in Hancock county (Georgia), seven miles from Sparta. His
+mother was Molly Navery Hunt, his father, Jim Rogers. They belonged to
+Mr. Jenkins Hunt and his wife "Miss Rebecca". Henry was the third of
+eight children. He has to say about his early life:
+
+"Yassum, I wuz born right over there in Hancock county, an' stayed there
+'til the year 1895 when Mrs. Riley come fer me to hep' her in the Hotel
+here in Washington an' I been here ev'ry since. I recollects well living
+on the Hunt plantation. It wuz a big place an' we had fifteen or twenty
+slaves"--(The "we" was proudly possessive)--"we wuz all as happy passel
+o' niggers as could be found anywhere. Aunt Winnie wuz the cook an' the
+kitchen wuz a big old one out in the yard an' had a fireplace that would
+'commodate a whole fence rail, it wuz so big, an' had pot hooks, pots,
+big old iron ones, an' everything er round to cook on. Aunt Winnie had a
+great big wooden tray dat she would fix all us little niggers' meals in
+an' call us up an' han' us a wooden spoon apiece an' make us all set
+down 'round the tray an' eat all us wanted three times ev'ry day. In one
+corner of the kitchen set a loom my Mother use to weave on. She would
+weave way into the night lots of times.
+
+"The fust thing I 'members is follerin' my Mother er 'round. She wuz the
+housegirl an' seamstress an' everywhere she went I wuz at her heels. My
+father wuz the overseer on the Hunt place. We never had no hard work to
+do. My fust work wuz 'tendin' the calves an' shinin' my Master's shoes.
+How I did love to put a Sunday shine on his boots an' shoes! He called
+me his nigger an' wuz goin' ter make a barber out o' me if slavery had
+er helt on. As it wuz, I shaved him long as he lived. We lived in the
+Quarters over on a high hill 'cross the spring-branch from the white
+peoples' house. We had comfortable log cabins an' lived over there an'
+wuz happy. Ole Uncle Alex Hunt wuz the bugler an' ev'ry mornin' at 4:00
+o'clock he blowed the bugle fer us ter git up, 'cept Sunday mornin's, us
+all slept later on Sundays.
+
+"When I wuz a little boy us played marbles, mumble peg, an' all sich
+games. The little white an' black boys played together, an' ev'ry time
+'Ole Miss' whipped her boys she whipped me too, but nobody 'cept my
+Mistess ever teched me to punish me.
+
+"I recollects one Sadday night ole Uncle Aaron Hunt come in an' he must
+er been drinkin' or sumpin' fer he got ter singin' down in the Quarters
+loud as he could 'Go Tell Marse Jesus I Done Done All I Kin Do', an'
+nobody could make him hush singin'. He got into sich er row 'til they
+had ter go git some o' the white folks ter come down an' quiet him down.
+Dat wuz the only 'sturbance 'mongst the niggers I ever 'members.
+
+"I wuz so little when the War come on I don't member but one thing 'bout
+it an' that wuz when it wuz over with an' our white mens come home all
+de neighbors, the Simpsons, the Neals, the Allens all living on
+plantations 'round us had a big dinner over at my white peoples', the
+Hunts, an' it sho wuz a big affair. Ev'rybody from them families wuz
+there an' sich rejoicin' I never saw. I won't forgit that time.
+
+"I allus been to Church. As a little boy my folks took me to ole Mt
+Zion. We went to the white peoples' Church 'til the colored folks had
+one of they own. The white folks had services in Mt Zion in the mornings
+an' the niggers in the evenin's."
+
+When a colored person died back in the days when Uncle Henry was coming
+on, he said they sat up with the dead and had prayers for the living.
+There was a Mr. Beman in the community who made coffins, and on the Hunt
+place old Uncle Aaron Hunt helped him. The dead were buried in home-made
+coffins and the hearse was a one horse wagon.
+
+"When I wuz a growin' up" said Uncle Henry, "I wore a long loose shirt
+in the summer, an' in the winter plenty of good heavy warm clothes. I
+had 'nits an' lice' pants an' hickory stripe waists when I wuz a little
+boy. All these my Mother spun an' wove the cloth fer an' my Mistess
+made. When I wuz older I had copperas pants an' shirts."
+
+Uncle Henry has many signs but is reluctant to tell them. Finally he was
+prevailed upon to give several. What he calls his "hant sign" is: "If
+you runs into hot heat sudden, it is a sho sign hants is somewheres
+'round."
+
+When a rooster comes up to the door and crows, if he is standing with
+his head towards the door, somebody is coming, if he is standing with
+his tail towards the door, it is a sign of death, according to Uncle
+Henry. It is good luck for birds to build their nests near a house, and
+if a male red bird comes around the woodpile chirping, get ready for bad
+weather for it is on its way.
+
+Uncle Henry is a pretty good doctor too, but he doesn't like to tell his
+remedies. He did say that life everlasting tea is about as good thing
+for a cold as can be given and for hurts of any kind there is nothing
+better than soft rosin, fat meat and a little soot mixed up and bound to
+the wound. He is excellent with animals and when a mule, dog, pig or
+anything gets sick his neighbors call him in and he doctors them and
+usually makes them well.
+
+As for conjuring, Uncle Henry has never known much about it, but he said
+when he was a little fellow he heard the old folks talk about a mixture
+of devil's snuff and cotton stalk roots chipped up together and put into
+a little bag and that hidden under the front steps. This was to make all
+who came up the steps friendly and peacable even if they should happen
+to be coming on some other mission.
+
+After the War the Rogers family moved from the Hunts' to the Alfriend
+plantation adjoining. As the Alfriends were a branch of the Hunt family
+they considered they were still owned as in slavery by the same "white
+peoples". They lived there until Uncle Henry moved to Washington-Wilkes
+in 1895.
+
+Christmas was a great holiday on the plantation. There was no work done
+and everybody had a good time with plenty of everything good to eat.
+Easter was another time when work was laid aside. A big Church service
+took place Sunday and on Monday a picnic was attended by all the negroes
+in the community.
+
+There were Fourth of July celebrations, log rollings, corn shuckings,
+house coverings and quilting parties. In all of these except the Fourth
+of July celebration it was a share-the-work idea. Uncle Henry grew a bit
+sad when he recalled how "peoples use ter be so good 'bout hep'in' one
+'nother, an' now dey don't do nothin' fer nobody lessen' dey pays 'em."
+He told how, when a neighbor cleared a new ground and needed help, he
+invited all the men for some distance around and had a big supper
+prepared. They rolled logs into huge piles and set them afire. When all
+were piled high and burning brightly, supper was served by the fire
+light. Sometimes the younger ones danced around the burning logs. When
+there was a big barn full of corn to be shucked the neighbors gladly
+gathered in, shucked the corn for the owner, who had a fiddler and maybe
+some one to play the banjo. The corn was shucked to gay old tunes and
+piled high in another barn. Then after a "good hot supper" there was
+perhaps a dance in the cleared barn. When a neighbor's house needed
+covering, he got the shingles and called in his neighbors and friends,
+who came along with their wives. While the men worked atop the house the
+women were cooking a delicious dinner down in the kitchen. At noon it
+was served amid much merry making. By sundown the house was finished and
+the friends went home happy in the memory of a day spent in toil freely
+given to one who needed it.
+
+All those affairs were working ones, but Uncle Henry told of one that
+marked the end of toil for a season and that was the Fourth of July as
+celebrated on the Hunt and Alfriend plantations. He said: "On the
+evenin' of the third of July all plows, gear, hoes an' all sich farm
+tools wuz bro't in frum the fields an' put in the big grove in front o'
+the house where a long table had been built. On the Fo'th a barbecue wuz
+cooked, when dinner wuz ready all the han's got they plows an' tools,
+the mules wuz bro't up an' gear put on them, an' den ole Uncle Aaron
+started up a song 'bout the crops wuz laid by an' res' time had come,
+an' everybody grabbed a hoe er sumpin', put it on they shoulder an'
+jined the march 'round an' round the table behind Uncle Aaron singin'
+an' marchin', Uncle Aaron linin' off the song an' ev'ry body follerin'
+him. It wuz a sight to see all the han's an' mules er goin' 'round the
+table like that. Den when ev'ry body wuz might nigh 'zausted, they
+stopped an' et a big barbecue dinner. Us use ter work hard to git laid
+by by de Fo'th so's we could celebrate. It sho' wuz a happy time on our
+plantations an' the white peoples enjoyed it as much as us niggers did.
+
+"Us use ter have good times over there in Hancock County", continued
+Uncle Henry. Ev'rybody wuz so good an' kind ter one 'nother; 't'ain't
+like that now--no mam, not lak it use ter be. Why I 'members onst, when
+I fust growed up an' wuz farmin' fer myself, I got sick way long up in
+the Spring, an' my crop wuz et up in grass when one evenin' Mr.
+Harris--(he wuz overseein' fer Mr. Treadwell over on the next plantation
+to the Alfriends)--come by. I wuz out in the field tryin' ter scratch
+'round as best I could, Mr. Harris say: 'Brit, you in de grass mighty
+bad.' I say: 'Yassir, I is, but I been sick an' couldn't hep' myself,
+that's how come I so behind.' He say: 'Look lak you needs hep'.'
+'Yassir,' I says, 'but I ain't got nobody to work but me.' Dat's all he
+said. Well sir, the nex' mornin' by times over comes Mr. Harris wid six
+plows an' eight hoe han's an' they give me a whole day's work an' when
+they finished that evenin' they want a sprig of grass in my crop; it wuz
+clean as this floor, an' I'se tellin' yer the truth. Dat's the way
+peoples use ter do, but not no mo'--everybody too selfish now, an' they
+think ain't nobody got responsibilits (responsibilities) but them."
+
+Speaking of his early life Uncle Henry continued: "When I growed up I
+broke race horses fer white mens an' raced horses too, had rooster
+fights an' done all them kind o' things, but I 'sought 'ligion an' found
+it an' frum that day to this I ain't never done them things no mo'. When
+I jined the Church I had a Game rooster named 'Ranger' that I had won
+ev'ry fight that I had matched him in. Peoples come miles ter see Ranger
+fight; he wuz a Warhorse Game. After I come to be a member of the Church
+I quit fightin' Ranger so Mr. Sykes come over an' axed me what I would
+take fer him, I told him he could have him--I warn't goin' to fight wid
+him any mo'. He took him an' went over three states, winnin' ev'ry fight
+he entered him in an' come home wid fifteen hundred dollars he made on
+Ranger. He give me fifty dollars, but I never wanted him back. Ranger
+wuz a pet an' I could do anything wid 'im. I'd hold out my arm an' tell
+him to come up an' he'd fly up on my arm an' crow. He'd get on up on my
+haid an' crow too. One rainy day 'fore I give him away he got in the lot
+an' kilt three turkeys an' a gobbler fer my Mistess. She got mighty mad
+an' I sho wuz skeered 'til Marse took mine an' Ranger's part an'
+wouldn't let her do nothin' wid us."
+
+Forty-seven years ago Uncle Henry married Annie Tiller of Hancock
+County. They had four children, three of whom are living. About his
+courtship and marriage he has to say: "I wuz at Sunday School one Sunday
+an' saw Annie fer the fust time. I went 'round where she wuz an' wuz
+made 'quainted with her an' right then an' there I said to myself,
+'She's my gal'. I started goin' over to see her an' met her folks. I
+liked her Pa an Ma an' I would set an' talk with them an' 'pear not to
+be payin' much 'tention to Annie. I took candy an' nice things an' give
+to the family, not jest to her. I stood in with the ole folks an'
+'t'warn't long 'fore me an' Annie wuz married." Uncle Henry said he took
+Annie to Sparta to his Pastor's home for the marriage and the preacher
+told him he charged three dollars for the ceremony. "But I tole him I
+warnt goin' to give him but er dollar an' a half 'cause I wuz one of his
+best payin' members an' he ought not to charge me no more than dat. An'
+I never paid him no mo' neither, an' dat wuz er plenty."
+
+Though he is crippled in his "feets" he is hale and hearty and manages
+to work without missing a day. He is senior Steward in his church and
+things there go about like he says even though he isn't a preacher. All
+the members seem to look to him for "consulation an' 'couragement". In
+all his long life he has "never spoke a oath if I knows it, an' I hates
+cussin'." He speaks of his morning devotions as "havin' prayers wid
+myself". His blessing at mealtime is the same one he learned in his
+"white peoples'" home when he was a little boy:
+
+  "We humbly thank Thee, our Heavenly Father,
+     for what we have before us."
+
+Uncle Henry says: "I loves white peoples an' I'm a-livin' long 'cause in
+my early days dey cared fer me an' started me off right--they's my bes'
+frien's."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 5
+E.F. Driskell
+12/30/36
+
+JULIA RUSH, Ex-Slave
+109 years old]
+
+[TR: The beginning of each line on the original typewritten pages for
+this interview is very faint, and some words have been reconstructed
+from context. Questionable entries are followed by [??]; words that
+could not be deciphered are indicated by [--].]
+
+
+Mrs. Julia Rush was born in 1826 on Saint Simons Island, Georgia. Mrs.
+Rush, her mother, and three sisters were the property of a Frenchman
+named Colonel De Binien, a very wealthy land owner. Mrs. Rush does not
+remember her father as he was sold away from his family when she was a
+baby.
+
+As a child Mrs. Rush served as playmate to one of the Colonel's
+daughters and so all that she had to do was to play from morning till
+night. When she grew older she started working in the kitchen in the
+master's house. Later she was sent to the fields where she worked side
+by side with her mother and three sisters from sunup until sundown.
+Mrs. Rush says that she has plowed so much that she believes she can
+"outplow" any man.
+
+Instead of the white overseer usually found on plantations the Colonel
+used one of the slaves to act as foreman of the field hands. He was
+known to the other slaves as the "Nigger Driver" and it was he who
+awakened all every morning. It was so dark until torch lights had to be
+used to see by. Those women who had babies took them along to the field
+in a basket which they placed on their heads. All of the hands were
+given a certain amount of work to perform each day and if the work was
+not completed a whipping might be forthcoming. Breakfast was sent to the
+field to the hands and if at dinner time they were not too far away from
+their cabins they were permitted to go home[??]. At night they prepared
+their own meals in their individual cabins.
+
+All food on the colonel's plantation was issued daily from the corn
+house. Each person was given enough corn to make a sufficient amount of
+bread for the day when ground. Then they went out and dug their potatoes
+from the colonel's garden. No meat whatsoever was issued. It was up to
+the slaves to catch fish, oysters, and other sea food for their meat
+supply. All those who desired to were permitted to raise chickens,
+watermelons and vegetables. There was no restriction on any as to what
+must be done with the produce so raised. It could be sold or kept for
+personal consumption.
+
+Colonel De Binien always saw that his slaves had sufficient clothing. In
+the summer months the men were given two shirts, two pairs of pants, and
+two pairs of underwear. All of these clothes were made of cotton and all
+were sewed on the plantation. No shoes were worn in the summer. The
+women were given two dresses, two underskirts, and two pairs of
+underwear. When the winter season approached another issue of clothes
+was given. At this time shoes were given. They were made of heavy red
+leather and were known as "brogans".
+
+The slave quarters on the plantation were located behind the colonel's
+cabin[??]. All were made of logs. The chinks in the walls were filled
+with mud to keep the weather out. The floors were of wood in order to
+protect the occupants from the dampness. The only furnishings were a
+crude bed and several benches. All cooking was done at the large
+fireplace in the rear of the one room.
+
+When Colonel De Binion's [TR: earlier, De Binien] wife died he divided
+his slaves among the children. Mrs. Rush was given to her former
+playmate who was at the time married and living in Carrollton, Georgia.
+She was very mean and often punished her by beating her on her forearm
+for the slightest offence. At other times she made her husband whip her
+(Mrs. Rush) on her bare back with a cowhide whip. Mrs. Rush says that
+her young Mistress thought that her husband was being intimate with her
+and so she constantly beat and mistreated her. On one occasion all of
+the hair on her head (which was long and straight) was cut from her head
+by the young mistress.
+
+For a while Mrs. Rush worked in the fields where she plowed and hoed the
+crops along with the other slaves. Later she worked in the master's
+house where she served as maid and where she helped with the cooking.
+She was often hired out to the other planters in the vicinity. She says
+that she liked this because she always received better treatment than
+she did at her own home. These persons who hired her often gave her
+clothes as she never received a sufficient amount from her own master.
+
+The food was almost the same here as it had been at the other
+plantation. At the end of each week she and her fellow slaves were given
+a "little bacon, vegetables, and some corn meal."[HW: ?] This had to
+last for a certain length of time. If it was all eaten before the time
+for the next issue that particular slave had to live as best he or she
+could. In such an emergency the other slaves usually shared with the
+unfortunate one.
+
+There was very little illness on the plantation where Mrs. Rush lived.
+Practically the only medicine ever used was castor oil and turpentine.
+Some of the slaves went to the woods and gathered roots and herbs from
+which they made their own tonics and medicines.
+
+According to Mrs. Rush the first of the month was always sale day for
+slaves and horses. She was sold on one of those days from her master in
+Carrollton to one Mr. Morris, who lived in Newman, Ga. Mr. Morris paid
+$1100.00 for her. She remained with him for a short while and was later
+sold to one Mr. Ray who paid the price of $1200.00. Both of these
+masters were very kind to her, but she was finally sold back to her
+former master, Mr. Archibald Burke of Carrollton, Ga.
+
+Mrs. Rush remembers that none of the slaves were allowed away from their
+plantation unless they held a pass from their master. Once when she was
+going to town to visit some friends she was accosted by a group of
+"Paddle-Rollers" who gave her a sound whipping when she was unable to
+show a pass from her master.
+
+Mrs. Rush always slept in her masters' houses after leaving Colonel De
+Binien. When she was in Carrollton her young mistress often made her
+sleep under the house when she was angry with her.
+
+After the war was over with and freedom was declared Mr. Burke continued
+to hold Mrs. Rush. After several unsuccessful attempts she was finally
+able to escape. She went to another part of the state where she married
+and started a family of her own.
+
+Because of the cruel treatment that she received at the hands of some of
+her owners[??] Mrs. Rush says that the mere thought of slavery makes her
+blood boil. Then there are those, under whom she served, who treated her
+with kindness, whom she holds no malice against.
+
+As far as Mrs. Rush knows the war did very little damage to Mr. Burke.
+He did not enlist as a soldier.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave #96]
+
+[HW: Good ghost story on page 4.]
+[HW: "revolution drummer" parts very good.]
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+NANCY SETTLES, Ex-slave, Age 92
+2511 Wheeler Road
+(Richmond County)
+Augusta, Georgia
+
+By: (Mrs.) MARGARET JOHNSON
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Nancy Settles was born 15 miles from Edgefield in South Carolina on the
+plantation of Mr. Berry Cochran.
+
+Until about five months ago, Nancy had been bed-ridden for three years.
+Her speech is slow, and at times it is difficult to understand her, but
+her mind is fairly clear. Her eyes frequently filled with tears, her
+voice becoming so choked she could not talk. "My Marster and Missis, my
+husban' and eight of my chaps done lef me. De Lawd mus be keepin' me
+here fur some reason. Dis here chile is all I got lef'." The "Chile"
+referred to was a woman about 69. "My fust chap was born in slavery. Me
+and my husband lived on diffunt plantashuns till after Freedom come. My
+Ma and my Pa lived on diffunt places too. My Pa uster come evy Sadday
+evenin' to chop wood out uv de wood lot and pile up plenty fur Ma till
+he come agin. On Wensday evenin', Pa uster come after he been huntin'
+and bring in possum and coon. He sho could get 'em a plenty.
+
+"Ma, she chop cotton and plow, and I started choppin' cotton when I wuz
+twelve years old. When I was a gal I sure wuz into plenty devilment."
+
+"What kind of devilment?"
+
+"Lawdy Miss, evy time I heayd a fiddle, my feets jes' got to dance and
+dancin' is devilment. But I ain't 'lowed to dance nothin' but de
+six-handed reel.
+
+"I uster take my young Misses to school ev'y day, but de older Misses
+went to boadin' school and come home ev'y Friday an' went back on
+Monday. No ma'am, I never learn to read and write but I kin spell some."
+
+"Nancy, did you go out at night and were you ever caught by the patrol?"
+
+"No, ma'am, I never wuz caught by de patterol; my Pa wuz the one I was
+scart uv."
+
+"Did you always have enough to eat, and clothes to wear?"
+
+"Yes ma'am, Marster put out a side uv meat and a barrul o' meal and all
+uv us would go and git our rations fur de week."
+
+"Suppose some one took more than his share, and the supply ran short."
+
+"Lawd Ma'am, we knowed better'n to do dat kinder thing. Eve'ybody, had
+er garden patch an' had plenty greens and taters and all dat kinder
+thing. De cloth fur de slave close wuz all made on the place and Missis
+see to mekkin' all de close we wear."
+
+"My Missis died endurin' of de war, but Marster he live a long time.
+Yes, Ma'am, we went to Church an to camp meetin' too. We set up in de
+galley, and ef dey too many uv us, we set in de back uv de church. Camp
+meetin' wuz de bes'. Before Missis died I wuz nussin' my young miss
+baby, and I ride in de white foke's kerrage to camp meetin' groun' and
+carry de baby. Lawdy, I seen de white folks and de slaves too shoutin'
+an gittin' 'ligion plenty times."
+
+"Nancy, were the slaves on your place ever whipped?"
+
+"Yes'm sometimes when de wouldn' mine, but Marster allus whip 'em
+hissef, he ain't let nobody else lay er finger on his slaves but him. I
+heayd 'bout slaves been whipped but I tink de wuz whipped mostly cause
+de Marsters _could_ whip 'em."
+
+"Nancy do you know any ghost stories, or did you ever see a ghost?"
+
+"No, Ma'am, I ain't never see a ghos' but I heayd de drum!"
+
+"What drum did you hear--war drums?"
+
+"No, ma'am de drum de little man beats down by Rock Crick. Some say he
+is a little man whut wears a cap and goes down the crick beating a drum
+befo' a war. He wuz a Revolushun drummer, and cum back to beat the drum
+befo' de war. But some say you can hear de drum 'most any spring now. Go
+down to the Crick and keep quiet and you hear Brrr, Brrr, Bum hum,
+louder and louder and den it goes away. Some say dey hav' seen de little
+man, but I never seen him, but I heayd de drum, 'fo de war, and ater dat
+too. There was a white man kilt hisself near our place. He uster play a
+fiddle, and some time he come back an play. I has heayd him play his
+fiddle, but I ain't seen him. Some fokes say dey is seen him in the wood
+playin' and walkin' 'bout."
+
+"Nancy I am glad you are better than you were the last time I came to
+see you."
+
+"Yes, Ma'am, I is up now. I prayed to God and tell Him my trouble and he
+helped me get about again. This po chile uv mine does what she kin to
+pay de rent and de Welfare gives us a bit to eat but I sho do need er
+little wood, cause we is back on de rent and my chile jes scrap 'bout to
+pick up trash wood and things to burn."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by ex-slave
+
+WILL SHEETS, Age 76
+1290 W. Broad Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sadie B. Hornsby
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+Leila Harris
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 13 1938]
+
+
+Old Will Sheets readily complied with the request that he tell of his
+experiences during slavery days. "No'm I don't mind, its been many a
+long day since anybody axed me to talk 'bout things dat far back, but I
+laks to have somebody to talk to 'cause I can't git 'bout no more since
+I los' both of my footses, and I gits powerful lonesome sometimes.
+
+"I was borned in Oconee County, not far f'um whar Bishop is now. It
+warn't nothin' but a cornfield, way back in dem times. Ma was Jane
+Southerland 'fore she married my pa. He was Tom Sheets. Lawsy Miss! I
+don't know whar dey cone f'um. As far as I knows, dey was borned and
+raised on deir Marsters' plantations. Dar was seven of us chilluns. I
+was de oldes'; James, Joe, Speer, Charlie, and Ham was my brudders, and
+my onlies' sister was Frances.
+
+"You ax me 'bout my gram'ma and gram'pa? I can't tell you nothin' t'all
+'bout 'em. I jus' knows I had 'em and dat's all. You see Ma was a house
+gal and de mos' I seed of her was when she come to de cabin at night;
+den us chilluns was too sleepy to talk. Soon as us et, us drapped down
+on a pallet and went fast asleep. Niggers is a sleepyheaded set.
+
+"I was a water boy, and was 'spected to tote water f'um de spring to de
+house, and to de hands in de fiel'. I helped Mandy, one of de colored
+gals, to drive de calves to de pasture and I toted in a little wood and
+done little easy jobs lak dat. Lawsy Miss! I never seed no money 'til
+atter de War. If I had a had any money what could I have done wid it,
+when I couldn't leave dat place to spend it?
+
+"Dare ain't much to tell 'bout what little Nigger chillun done in
+slavery days. Dem what was big enough had to wuk, and dem what warn't,
+played, slep' and scrapped. Little Niggers is bad as game chickens 'bout
+fightin'. De quarters whar us lived was log cabins chinked wid mud to
+keep out de rain and wind. Chimblies was made out of fiel' rock and red
+clay. I never seed a cabin wid more dan two rooms in it.
+
+"Beds warn't fancy dem days lak dey is now; leastwise I didn't see no
+fancy ones. All de beds was corded; dey had a headboard, but de pieces
+at de foot and sides was jus' wide enough for holes to run de cords
+thoo', and den de cords was pegged to hold 'em tight. Nigger chillun
+slep' on pallets on de flo'.
+
+"Marse Jeff Southerland was a pore man, but he fed us all us could eat
+sich as turnips, cabbages, collards, green corn, fat meat, cornbread,
+'taters and sometimes chicken. Yes Ma'am, chicken dinners was sorter
+special. Us didn't have 'em too often. De cookin' was all done at de big
+house in a open fireplace what had a rack crost it dat could be pulled
+out to take de pots off de fire. 'Fore dey started cookin', a fire was
+made up ready and waitin'; den de pots of victuals was hung on de rack
+and swung in de fireplace to bile. Baking was done in skillets. Us
+cotched rabbits three and four at a time in box traps sot out in de plum
+orchard. Sometimes us et 'em stewed wid dumplin's and some times dey was
+jus' plain biled, but us laked 'em bes' of all when dey was fried lak
+chickens.
+
+"Oh! dem 'possums! How I wisht I had one right now. My pa used to ketch
+40 or 50 of 'em a winter. Atter dey married, Ma had to stay on wid Marse
+Jeff and Pa was 'bliged to keep on livin' wid Marster Marsh Sheets. His
+marster give him a pass so dat he could come and stay wid Ma at night
+atter his wuk was done, and he fetched in de 'possums. Dey was baked in
+de white folkses kitchen wid sweet 'tatoes 'roun' 'em and was barbecued
+sometimes. Us had fishes too what was mighty good eatin'. Dere warn't
+but one gyarden on de plantation.
+
+"Slave chillun didn't wear nothin' in summer but shirts what looked lak
+gowns wid long sleeves. Gals and boys was dressed in de same way when
+dey was little chaps. In winter us wore shirts made out of coarse cloth
+and de pants and little coats was made out of wool. De gals wore wool
+dresses." He laughed and said: "On Sunday us jus' wore de same things.
+Did you say shoes? Lawsy Miss! I was eight or nine 'fore I had on a pair
+of shoes. On frosty mornin's when I went to de spring to fetch a bucket
+of water, you could see my feet tracks in de frost all de way dar and
+back.
+
+"Miss Carrie, my Mist'ess, was good as she knowed how to be. Marse and
+Mist'ess had two gals and one boy, Miss Anna, Miss Callie, and Marster
+Johnny.
+
+"Marse Jeff was a good man; he never whupped and slashed his Niggers. No
+Ma'am, dere warn't nobody whupped on Marse Jeff's place dat I knows
+'bout. He didn't have no overseer. Dere warn't no need for one 'cause he
+didn't have so many slaves but what he could do de overseein' his own
+self. Marse Jeff jus' had 'bout four mens and four 'oman slaves and him
+and young Marse Johnny wukked in de fiel' 'long side of de Niggers. Dey
+went to de fiel' by daybreak and come in late at night.
+
+"When Marse Jeff got behind wid his crop, he would hire slaves f'um
+other white folkses, mostly f'um Pa's marster, dat's how Pa come to know
+my Ma.
+
+"Dere was 'bout a hunderd acres in our plantation countin' de woods and
+pastures. Dey had 'bout three or four acres fenced in wid pine poles in
+a plum orchard. Dat's whar dey kep' de calves.
+
+"Dere was a jail at Watkinsville, but Marse Jeff never had none of his
+slaves put in no jail. He didn't have so many but what he could make 'em
+behave. I never seed no slaves sold, but I seed 'em in a wagon passin'
+by on deir way to de block. Marse Jeff said dey was takin' 'em a long
+ways off to sell 'em. Dat's why dey was a-ridin'.
+
+"Miss Anna larned Ma her A.B.C's. She could read a little, but she never
+larned to write.
+
+"Slaves went to de white folkses church if dey went a t'all. I never
+could sing no tune. I'se lak my Ma; she warn't no singer. Dat's how come
+I can't tell you 'bout de songs what dey sung den. I 'members de fus'
+time I seed anybody die; I was 'bout eight years old, and I was twelve
+'fore I ever seed a funeral. No Ma'am, us chilluns didn't go to no
+baptizin's--Ma went, but us didn't.
+
+"Didn't none of Marse Jeff's Niggers run off to no North, but I heared
+of a Nigger what did on de place whar my Pa was at. De only thing I
+knowed what might a made him run to de North was dat Niggers thought if
+dey got dar dey would be in Heb'en. Dem patterollers was somepin' else.
+I heared folkses say dey would beat de daylights mos' out of you if dey
+cotched you widout no pass. Us lived on de big road, and I seed 'em
+passin' mos' anytime. I mos' know dere was plenty trouble twixt de
+Niggers and de white folkses. Course I never heared tell of none, but
+I'm sho' dere was trouble jus' de same," he slyly remarked.
+
+"Marse Jeff wukked dem few Niggers so hard dat when dey got to deir
+cabins at night dey was glad to jus' rest. Dey all knocked off f'um wuk
+Sadday at 12 o'clock. De 'omans washed, patched, and cleaned up de
+cabins, and de mens wukked in dey own cotton patches what Marse Jeff
+give 'em. Some Niggers wouldn't have no cotton patch 'cause dey was too
+lazy to wuk. But dey was all of 'em right dar Sadday nights when de
+frolickin' and dancin' was gwine on. On Sundays dey laid 'round and
+slep'. Some went to church if dey wanted to. Marster give 'em a pass to
+keep patterollers f'um beatin' 'em when dey went to church.
+
+"Us chilluns was glad to see Chris'mas time come 'cause us had plenty to
+eat den; sich as hogshead, backbones, a heap of cake, and a little
+candy. Us had apples what had been growed on de place and stored away
+special for Chris'mas. Marse Jeff bought some lallahoe, dat was syrup,
+and had big old pones of lightbread baked for us to sop it up wid. What
+us laked best 'bout Chris'mas was de good old hunk of cheese dey give us
+den and de groundpeas. Don't you know what groundpeas is? Dem's goobers
+(peanuts). Such a good time us did have, a-parchin' and a-eatin' dem
+groundpeas! If dere was oranges us didn't git none. Marse Jeff give de
+grown folkses plenty of liquor and dey got drunk and cut de buck whilst
+it lasted. New Year's Day was de time to git back to wuk.
+
+"Marse Jeff was sich a pore man he didn't have no corn shuckin's on his
+place, but he let his Niggers go off to 'em and he went along hisself.
+Dey had a big time a-hollerin' and singin' and shuckin' corn. Atter de
+shuckin' was all done dere was plenty to eat and drink--nothin' short
+'bout dem corn shuckin's.
+
+"When slaves got sick, dey didn't have no doctor dat I knowed 'bout.
+Miss Carrie done de doctorin' herself. Snake root tea was good for colds
+and stomach mis'ries. Dey biled rabbit tobacco, pine tops, and mullein
+together; tuk de tea and mixed it wid 'lasses; and give it to us for
+diffunt ailments. If dey done dat now, folkses would live longer. Ma put
+asafiddy (asafetida) sacks 'round our necks to keep off sickness.
+
+"Ma said us was gwine to be free. Marse Jeff said us warn't, and he
+didn't tell us no diffunt 'til 'bout Chris'mas atter de War was done
+over wid in April. He told us dat us was free, but he wanted us to stay
+on wid him, and didn't none of his Niggers leave him. Dey all wukked de
+same as dey had before dey was sot free only he paid 'em wages atter de
+War.
+
+"I 'members dem Yankees comin' down de big road a-stealin' as dey went
+'long. Dey swapped deir bags of bones for de white folkses good fat
+hosses. I never seed so many pore hosses at one time in my life as dey
+had. Dem Yankees stole all da meat, chickens, and good bedclothes and
+burnt down de houses. Dey done devilment aplenty as dey went 'long. I
+'members Marse Jeff put one of his colored mens on his hoss wid a
+coffeepot full of gold and sont him to de woods. Atter dem Yankees went
+on he sont for him to fetch back de gold and de fine hoss what he done
+saved f'um de sojer mens.
+
+"I heared tell of dem Ku Kluxers, but I never seed 'em. Lawsy Miss! What
+did Niggers have to buy land wid 'til atter dey wukked long enough for
+to make some money? Warn't no schoolin' done 'round whar us lived. I was
+10 years old 'fore I ever sot foots in a schoolhouse. De nearest school
+was at Shady Grove.
+
+"It was a long time atter de War 'fore I married. Us didn't have no
+weddin'; jus' got married. My old 'oman had on a calico dress--I
+disremembers what color. She looked good to me though. Us had 16
+chilluns in all; four died. I got 22 grandchillun and one great
+grandchild. None of 'em has jobs to brag 'bout; one of 'em larned to
+run a store.
+
+"I think Mr. Lincoln was a great man, 'cause he sot us free. When I
+thinks back, it warn't no good feelin' to be bound down lak dat. Mr.
+President Davis wanted us to stay bound down. No Ma'am, I didn't lak dat
+Mr. Davis atter I knowed what he stood for. 'Course dere is plenty what
+needs to be bound down hard and fast so dey won't git in no trouble. But
+for me I trys to behave myself, and I sho' had ruther be free. I guess
+atter all it's best dat slavery days is over. 'Bout dat Booker
+Washin'ton man, de Niggers what tuk him in said he done lots of good for
+his race, and I reckon he did.
+
+"Somepin' 'nother jus' made me jine de church. I wanted to do better'n
+what I was doin'. De Lord says it's best for folkses to be 'ligious.
+
+"No Ma'am, I don't 'spect to live as long as my Ma lived, 'cause dese
+legs of mine since I done los' both of my footses wid blood pizen atter
+gangreen sot in, sho' gives me a passel of trouble. But de Lord is good
+to me and no tellin' how long I'se gwine to stay here. Miss, you sho'
+tuk me way back yonder, and I laks to talk 'bout it. Yes, Ma'am, dat's
+been a long time back."
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT SHEPHERD, Age 91
+386 Arch Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+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
+
+
+Robert lives in a small house so old and in such bad repair that a
+strong wind would no doubt tumble it down. Large holes in the roof
+can be plainly seen from the gateway. The neat yard, filled with
+old-fashioned flowers, is enclosed by a makeshift fence of rusty wire
+sagging to the ground in places, and the gate rocks on one hinge. There
+was some evidence that a porch had extended across the front of the
+cottage, but it is entirely gone now and large rocks serve as steps at
+the doorway.
+
+Knocks and calls at the front of the house were unanswered and finally
+Robert was found working in his garden behind the house. He is a tiny
+old man, and his large sun hat made him seem smaller than he actually
+was. He wore a clean but faded blue shirt and shabby gray pants much too
+large for him. His shoes, bound to his feet with strips of cloth, were
+so much too large that it was all he could do to shuffle along. He
+removed his hat and revealed white hair that contrasted with his black
+face, as he smiled in a friendly way. "Good morning, Missy! How is you?"
+was his greeting. Despite his advanced age, he keeps his garden in
+excellent condition. Not a blade of grass was to be seen. Asked how he
+managed to keep it worked so efficiently he proudly answered: "Well
+Miss, I jus' wuks in it some evvy day dat comes 'cept Sundays and, when
+you keeps right up wid it dat way, it ain't so hard. Jus' look 'round
+you! Don't you see I got de bestest beans and squashes, 'round here, and
+down under dem 'tater vines, I kin tell you, dem roots is jus' full of
+'taters. My Old Marster done larnt me how to gyarden. He allus made us
+raise lots of gyarden sass such as: beans, peas, roas'in' ears,
+collards, turnip greens, and ingons (onions). For a fact, dere was jus'
+'bout all de kinds of veg'tables us knowed anything 'bout dem days right
+dar in our Marster's big old gyarden. Dere was big patches of 'taters,
+and in dem wheatfields us growed enough to make bread for all de folks
+on dat dere plantation. Us sho' did have plenty of mighty good somepin
+t'eat.
+
+"I would ax you to come in and set down in my house to talk," he said,
+"but I don't 'spect you could climb up dem dere rocks to my door, and
+dem's all de steps I got." When Robert called to his daughter, who lived
+next door, and told her to bring out some chairs, she suggested that the
+interview take place on her porch. "It's shady and cool on my porch,"
+she said, "and Pa's done been a-diggin' in his garden so long he's plum
+tuckered out; he needs to set down and rest." After making her father
+comfortable, she drew up a bucket of water from the well at the edge of
+the porch and, after he had indulged in a long drink of the fresh water,
+he began his story.
+
+"I was borned on Marster Joe Echols' plantation in Oglethorpe County,
+'bout 10 miles from Lexin'ton, Georgy. Mammy was Cynthia Echols 'fore
+she married up wid my daddy. He was Peyton Shepherd. Atter Pappy and
+Mammy got married, Old Marse Shepherd sold Pappy to Marse Joe Echols so
+as dey could stay together.
+
+"Marse Joe, he had three plantations, but he didn't live on none of 'em.
+He lived in Lexin'ton. He kept a overseer on each one of his plantations
+and dey had better be good to his Niggers, or else Marse Joe would sho'
+git 'em 'way from dar. He never 'lowed 'em to wuk us too hard, and in
+bad or real cold weather us didn't have to do no outside wuk 'cept
+evvyday chores what had to be done, come rain or shine, lak milkin',
+tendin' de stock, fetchin' in wood, and things lak dat. He seed dat us
+had plenty of good somepin t'eat and all de clothes us needed. Us was
+lots better off in dem days dan us is now.
+
+"Old Marster, he had so many Niggers dat he never knowed 'em all. One
+day he was a-ridin' 'long towards one of his plantations and he met one
+of his slaves, named William. Marse Joe stopped him and axed him who he
+was. William said: 'Why Marster, I'se your Nigger. Don't you know me?'
+Den Marster, he jus' laughed and said: 'Well, hurry on home when you
+gits what you is gwine atter.' He was in a good humor dat way most all
+de time. I kin see him now a-ridin' dat little hoss of his'n what he
+called Button, and his little fice dog hoppin' 'long on three legs right
+side of de hoss. No Ma'am, dere warn't nothin' de matter wid' dat little
+dog; walkin' on three legs was jus' his way of gittin' 'round.
+
+"Marster never let none of de slave chillun on his plantation do no wuk
+'til dey got fifteen--dat was soon 'nough, he said. On all of his
+plantations dere was one old 'oman dat didn't have nothin' else to do
+but look atter and cook for de nigger chillun whilst dey mammies was at
+wuk in de fields. Aunt Viney tuk keer of us. She had a big old horn what
+she blowed when it was time for us to eat, and us knowed better dan to
+git so fur off us couldn't hear dat horn, for Aunt Viney would sho' tear
+us up. Marster had done told her she better fix us plenty t'eat and give
+it to us on time. Dere was a great long trough what went plum 'cross de
+yard, and dat was whar us et. For dinner us had peas or some other sort
+of veg'tables, and cornbread. Aunt Viney crumbled up dat bread in de
+trough and poured de veg'tables and pot-likker over it. Den she blowed
+de horn and chillun come a-runnin' from evvy which away. If us et it all
+up, she had to put more victuals in de trough. At nights, she crumbled
+de cornbread in de trough and poured buttermilk over it. Us never had
+nothin' but cornbread and buttermilk at night. Sometimes dat trough
+would be a sight, 'cause us never stopped to wash our hands, and 'fore
+us had been eatin' more dan a minute or two what was in de trough would
+look lak de red mud what had come off of our hands. Sometimes Aunt Viney
+would fuss at us and make us clean it out.
+
+"Dere was a big sand bar down on de crick what made a fine place to
+play, and wadin' in de branches was lots of fun. Us frolicked up and
+down dem woods and had all sorts of good times--anything to keep away
+from Aunt Viney 'cause she was sho' to have us fetchin' in wood or
+sweepin' de yards if us was handy whar she could find us. If us was out
+of her sight she never bothered 'bout dem yards and things. Us was
+skeered to answer dat horn when us got in Marster's 'bacco. He raised
+lots of 'bacco and rationed it out to mens, but he never 'lowed chillun
+to have none 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Us found out
+how to git in his 'bacco house and us kept on gittin' his 'bacco 'fore
+it was dried out 'til he missed it. Den he told Aunt Viney to blow dat
+horn and call up all de chillun. I'se gwine to whup evvy one of 'em, he
+would 'clare. Atter us got dere and he seed dat green 'bacco had done
+made us so sick us couldn't eat, he jus' couldn't beat us. He jus'
+laughed and said: 'It's good enough for you.'
+
+"Aunt Martha, she done de milkin' and helped Aunt Nancy cook for de
+slaves. Dey had a big long kitchen up at de big house whar de overseer
+lived. De slaves what wuked in de field never had to do deir own
+cookin'. It was all done for 'em in dat big old kitchen. Dey cooked some
+of de victuals in big old washpots and dere was sho' a plenty for all.
+All de cookin' was done in big fireplaces what had racks made inside to
+hang pots on and dey had big old ovens for bakin', and thick iron
+skillets, and long-handled fryin' pans. You jus' can't 'magine how good
+things was cooked dat way on de open fire. Nobody never had no better
+hams and other meat dan our Marster kept in dem big old smokehouses, and
+his slaves had meat jus' lak white folks did. Dem cooks knowed dey had
+to cook a plenty and have it ready when it was time for de slaves to
+come in from de fields. Miss Ellen, she was the overseer's wife, went
+out in de kitchen and looked over evvything to see that it was all right
+and den she blowed de bugle. When de slaves heared dat bugle, dey come
+in a-singin' from de fields. Dey was happy 'cause dey knowed Miss Ellen
+had a good dinner ready for 'em.
+
+"De slave quarters was long rows of log cabins wid chimblies made out of
+sticks and red mud. Dem chimblies was all de time ketchin' fire. Dey
+didn't have no glass windows. For a window, dey jus' cut a openin' in a
+log and fixed a piece of plank 'cross it so it would slide when dey
+wanted to open or close it. Doors was made out of rough planks, beds was
+rough home-made frames nailed to de side of de cabins, and mattresses
+was coarse, home-wove ticks filled wid wheat straw. Dey had good
+home-made kivver. Dem beds slept mighty good.
+
+"Dere warn't many folks sick dem days, 'specially 'mongst de slaves.
+When one did die, folks would go 12 or 15 miles to de buryin'. Marster
+would say: 'Take de mules and wagons and go but, mind you, take good
+keer of dem mules.' He never seemed to keer if us went--fact was, he
+said us ought to go. If a slave died on our place, nobody went to de
+fields 'til atter de buryin'. Marster never let nobody be buried 'til
+dey had been dead 24 hours, and if dey had people from some other place,
+he waited 'til dey could git dar. He said it warn't right to hurry 'em
+off into de ground too quick atter dey died. Dere warn't no undertakers
+dem days. De homefolks jus' laid de corpse out on de coolin' board 'til
+de coffin was made. Lordy Miss! Ain't you never seed one of dem coolin'
+boards? A coolin' board was made out of a long straight plank raised a
+little at de head, and had legs fixed to make it set straight. Dey wropt
+'oman corpses in windin' sheets. Uncle Squire, de man what done all de
+wagon wuk and buildin' on our place, made coffins. Dey was jus' plain
+wood boxes what dey painted to make 'em look nice. White preachers
+conducted de funerals, and most of de time our own Marster done it,
+'cause he was a preacher hisself. When de funeral was done preached, dey
+sung _Harps From De Tomb_, den dey put de coffin in a wagon and driv
+slow and keerful to de graveyard. De preacher prayed at de grave and de
+mourners sung, _I'se Born To Die and Lay Dis Body Down_. Dey never had
+no outside box for de coffin to be sot in, but dey put planks on top of
+de coffin 'fore dey started shovellin' in de dirt.
+
+"Fourth Sundays was our meetin' days, and evvybody went to church. Us
+went to our white folks' church and rid in a wagon 'hind deir car'iage.
+Dere was two Baptist preachers--one of 'em was Mr. John Gibson and de
+other was Mr. Patrick Butler. Marse Joe was a Methodist preacher
+hisself, but dey all went to de same church together. De Niggers sot in
+de gallery. When dey had done give de white folks de sacrament, dey
+called de Niggers down from de gallery and give dem sacrament too.
+Church days was sho' 'nough big meetin' days 'cause evvybody went. Dey
+preached three times a day; at eleven in de mornin', at three in de
+evenin', and den again at night. De biggest meetin' house crowds was
+when dey had baptizin', and dat was right often. Dey dammed up de crick
+on Sadday so as it would be deep enough on Sunday, and dey done de
+baptizin' 'fore dey preached de three o'clock sermon. At dem baptizin's
+dere was all sorts of shoutin', and dey would sing _Roll Jordan, Roll_,
+_De Livin' Waters_, and _Lord I'se Comin' Home_.
+
+"When de craps was laid by and most of de hardest wuk of de year done
+up, den was camp-meetin' time, 'long in de last of July and sometimes in
+August. Dat was when us had de biggest times of all. Dey had great big
+long tables and jus' evvything good t'eat. Marster would kill five or
+six hogs and have 'em carried dar to be barbecued, and he carried his
+own cooks along. Atter de white folks et dey fed de Niggers, and dere
+was allus a plenty for all. Marster sho' looked atter all his Niggers
+good at dem times. When de camp-meetin' was over, den come de big
+baptizin': white folks fust, den Niggers. One time dere was a old slave
+'oman what got so skeered when dey got her out in de crick dat somebody
+had to pull her foots out from under her to git her under de water. She
+got out from dar and testified dat it was de devil a-holdin' her back.
+
+"De white ladies had nice silk dresses to wear to church. Slave 'omans
+had new calico dresses what dey wore wid hoopskirts dey made out of
+grapevines. Dey wore poke bonnets wid ruffles on 'em and, if de weather
+was sort of cool, dey wore shawls. Marster allus wore his linen duster.
+Dat was his white coat, made cutaway style wid long tails. De cloth for
+most all of de clothes was made at home. Marse Joe raised lots of sheep
+and de wool was used to make cloth for de winter clothes. Us had a great
+long loom house whar some of de slaves didn't do nothin' but weave
+cloth. Some cyarded bats, some done de spinnin', and dere was more of
+'em to do de sewin'. Miss Ellen, she looked atter all dat, and she cut
+out most of de clothes. She seed dat us had plenty to wear. Sometimes
+Marster would go to de sewin' house, and Mist'ess would tell him to git
+on 'way from dar and look atter his own wuk, dat her and Aunt Julia
+could run dat loom house. Marster, he jus' laughed den and told us
+chillun what was hangin' round de door to jus' listen to dem 'omans
+cackle. Oh, but he was a good old boss man.
+
+"Us had water buckets, called piggens, what was made out of cedar and
+had handles on de sides. Sometimes us sawed off little vinegar kegs and
+put handles on 'em. Us loved to drink out of gourds. Dere was lots of
+gourds raised evvy year. Some of 'em was so big dey was used to keep
+eggs in and for lots of things us uses baskets for now. Dem little
+gourds made fine dippers.
+
+"Dem cornshuckin's was sho' 'nough big times. When us got all de corn
+gathered up and put in great long piles, den de gittin' ready started.
+Why dem 'omans cooked for days, and de mens would git de shoats ready to
+barbecue. Marster would send us out to git de slaves from de farms
+'round about dar.
+
+"De place was all lit up wid light'ood-knot torches and bonfires, and
+dere was 'citement a-plenty when all de Niggers got to singin' and
+shoutin' as dey made de shucks fly. One of dem songs went somepin lak
+dis: 'Oh! my haid, my pore haid, Oh! my pore haid is 'fected.' Dere
+warn't nothin' wrong wid our haids--dat was jus' our way of lettin' our
+overseer know us wanted some likker. Purty soon he would come 'round wid
+a big horn of whiskey, and dat made de 'pore haid' well, but it warn't
+long 'fore it got wuss again, and den us got another horn of whiskey.
+When de corn was all shucked den us et all us could and, let me tell
+you, dat was some good eatin's. Den us danced de rest of de night.
+
+"Next day when us all felt so tired and bad, Marster he would tell us
+'bout stayin' up all night, but Mist'ess tuk up for us, and dat tickled
+Old Marster. He jus' laughed and said: 'Will you listen to dat 'oman?'
+Den he would make some of us sing one of dem songs us had done been
+singin' to dance by. It goes sort of lak dis: 'Turn your pardner 'round!
+Steal 'round de corner, 'cause dem Johnson gals is hard to beat! Jus'
+glance 'round and have a good time! Dem gals is hard to find!' Dat's
+jus' 'bout all I can ricollect of it now.
+
+"Us had big 'possum hunts, and us sho' cotched a heap of 'em. De gals
+cooked 'em wid 'taters and dey jus' made your mouth water. I sho' wish I
+had one now. Rabbits was good too. Marster didn't 'low no huntin' wid
+guns, so us jus' took dogs when us went huntin'. Rabbits was kilt wid
+sticks and rocks 'cept when a big snow come. Dey was easy to track to
+dey beds den, and us could jus' reach in and pull 'em out. When us cotch
+'nough of 'em, us had big rabbit suppers.
+
+"De big war was 'bout over when dem yankees come by our place and jus'
+went through evvything. Dey called all de slaves together and told 'em
+dey was free and didn't b'long to nobody no more, and said de slaves
+could take all dey wanted from de smokehouses and barns and de big
+house, and could go when and whar dey wanted to go. Dey tried to hand us
+out all de meat and hams, but us told 'em us warn't hongry, 'cause
+Marster had allus done give us all us wanted. When dey couldn't make
+none of us take nothin', dey said it was de strangest thing dey had done
+ever seed, and dat dat man Echols must have sho' been good to his
+Niggers.
+
+"When dem yankees had done gone off Marster come out to our place. He
+blowed de bugle to call us all up to de house. He couldn't hardly talk,
+'cause somebody had done told him dat dem yankees couldn't talk his
+Niggers into stealin' nothin'. Marster said he never knowed 'fore how
+good us loved him. He told us he had done tried to be good to us and had
+done de best he could for us and dat he was mighty proud of de way evvy
+one of us had done 'haved ourselfs. He said dat de war was over now, and
+us was free and could go anywhar us wanted to, but dat us didn't have to
+go if us wanted to stay dar. He said he would pay us for our wuk and
+take keer of us if us stayed or, if us wanted to wuk on shares, he would
+'low us to wuk some land dat way. A few of dem Niggers drifted off, but
+most of 'em stayed right dar 'til dey died."
+
+A sad note had come into Robert's voice and he seemed to be almost
+overcome by the sorrow aroused by his reminiscences. His daughter was
+quick to perceive this and interrupted the conversation: "Please Lady,"
+she said. "Pa's too feeble to talk any more today. Can't you let him
+rest now and come back again in a day or two? Maybe he will be done
+'membered things he couldn't call back today."
+
+The front door was open when Robert's house was next visited, and a
+young girl answered the knock. "Come in," she said. The little house was
+as dilapidated in the interior as it was on the outside. Bright June
+sunshine filtered through the many gaps in the roof arousing wonder as
+to how the old man managed to remain inside this house during heavy
+rains. The room was scrupulously clean and neat. In it was a very old
+iron bed, a dresser that was minus its mirror, two chairs, and a table,
+all very old and dilapidated. The girl laughed when she called attention
+to a closet that was padlocked. "Dat's whar Grandpa keeps his rations,"
+she said, and then volunteered the information: "He's gone next door to
+stay wid Ma, whilst I clean up his house. He can't stand no dust, and
+when I sweeps, I raises a dust." The girl explained a 12 inch square
+aperture in the door, with a sliding board fastened on the inside by
+saying: "Dat's Grandpa's peep-hole. He allus has to see who's dar 'fore
+he unfastens his door."
+
+Robert was sitting on the back porch and his daughter was ironing just
+inside the door. Both seemed surprised and happy to see the interviewer
+and the daughter placed a comfortable chair for her as far as the
+dimensions of the small porch would permit from the heat of the charcoal
+bucket and irons. Remembering that his earlier recollections had ended
+with the close of the Civil War, Robert started telling about the days
+"atter freedom had done come."
+
+"Me, I stayed right on dar 'til atter Marster died. He was sick a long,
+long time, and one morning Old Mist'ess, she called to me. 'Robert,' she
+said, 'you ain't gwine to have no Marster long, 'cause he's 'bout gone.'
+I called all de Niggers up to de big house and when dey was all in de
+yard, Mist'ess, she said: 'Robert, you been wid us so long, you kin come
+in and see him 'fore he's gone for good.' When I got in dat room I
+knowed de Lord had done laid His hand on my good Old Marster, and he was
+a-goin' to dat Home he used to preach to us Niggers 'bout, and it
+'peared to me lak my heart would jus' bust. When de last breath was done
+gone, I went back out in de yard and told de other Niggers, and dere was
+sho' cryin' and prayin' 'mongst 'em, 'cause all of 'em loved Marster.
+Dat was sho' one big funeral. Mist'ess said she wanted all of Marster's
+old slaves to go, 'cause he loved 'em so, and all of us went. Some what
+had done been gone for years come back for Marster's funeral.
+
+"Next day, atter de funeral was over, Mist'ess, she said: 'Robert, I
+want you to stay on wid me 'cause you know how he wanted his wuk done.'
+Den Mist'ess' daughter and her husband, Mr. Dickenson, come dar to stay.
+None of de Niggers laked dat Mr. Dickenson and so most of 'em left and
+den, 'bout 2 years atter Marster died, Mist'ess went to 'Lanta (Atlanta)
+to stay wid another of her daughters, and she died dar. When Mist'ess
+left, I left too and come on here to Athens, and I been here ever since.
+
+"Dere warn't much town here den, and 'most all 'round dis here place was
+woods. I wuked 'bout a year for Mr. John McCune's fambly on de old
+Pitner place, den I went to wuk for Mr. Manassas B. McGinty. He was a
+cyarpenter and built most of de fine houses what was put up here dem
+days. I got de lumber from him to build my house. Dere warn't but two
+other houses 'round here den. My wife, Julie, washed for de white folks
+and helped 'em do deir housewuk. Our chillun used to come bring my
+dinner. Us had dem good old red peas cooked wid side meat in a pot in de
+fireplace, and ashcake to go wid 'em. Dat was eatin's. Julie would rake
+out dem coals and kivver 'em wid ashes, and den she would wrop a pone of
+cornbread dough in collard or cabbage leaves and put it on dem ashes and
+rake more ashes over it. You had to dust off de bread 'fore you et it,
+but ashcake was mighty good, folks what lived off of it didn't git sick
+lak dey does now a-eatin' dis white flour bread all de time. If us had
+any peas left from dinner and supper, Julie would mash 'em up right
+soft, make little cakes what she rolled in corn meal, and fry 'em for
+breakfast. Dem sausage cakes made out of left-over peas was mighty fine
+for breakfast.
+
+"When de chillun started out wid my dinner, Julie allus made two of 'em
+go together and hold hands all de way so dey wouldn't git lost. Now,
+little chillun jus' a few years old goes anywhar dey wants to. Folks
+don't look atter dey chillun lak dey ought to, and t'ain't right. Den,
+when night come, chillun went right off to bed. Now, dey jus' runs
+'round 'most all night, and it sho' is a-ruinin' dis young genrayshun
+(generation). Dey don't take no keer of deirselfs. My own grandchillun
+is de same way.
+
+"I left Mr. McGinty and went to wuk for Mr. Bloomfield in de mill. Mr.
+Bill Dootson was our boss, and he was sho' a good man. Dem was good
+times. I wuked inside de mill and 'round de yard too, and sometimes dey
+sont me to ride de boat wid de cotton or sometimes wid cloth, whatever
+dey was sendin'. Dere was two mills den. One was down below de bridge on
+Oconee Street, and de old check factory was t'other side of de bridge on
+Broad Street. Dey used boats to carry de cotton and de cloth from one
+mill to de other.
+
+"Missy, can you b'lieve it? I wuked for 68c a day and us paid for our
+home here. Dey paid us off wid tickets what us tuk to de commissary to
+git what us needed. Dey kept jus' evvything dat anybody could want down
+dar at de comp'ny store. So us raised our nine chillun, give 'em plenty
+to eat and wear too and a good roof over deir haids, all on 68c a day
+and what Julie could make wukin' for de white folks. 'Course things
+warn't high-priced lak dey is now, but de main diff'unce is dat folks
+didn't have to have so many kinds of things to eat and wear den lak dey
+does now. Dere warn't nigh so many ways to throw money 'way den.
+
+"Dere warn't so many places to go; jus' church and church spreads, and
+Sundays, folks went buggy ridin'. De young Niggers, 'specially dem what
+was a-sparkin', used to rent buggies and hosses from Mr. Selig
+Bernstein. He kept a big livery stable den and he had a hoss named
+Buckskin. Dat was de hoss what evvybody wanted 'cause he was so gentle
+and didn't skeer de 'omans and chilluns. Mr. Bernstein is a-livin' yit,
+and he is sho' a good man to do business wid. Missy, dere was lots of
+good white folks den. Most of dem old ones is done passed on. One of de
+best of 'em was Mr. Robert Chappell. He done passed on, but whilst he
+lived he was mighty good to evvybody and de colored folks sho' does miss
+him. He b'lieved in helpin' 'em and he give 'em several churches and
+tried his best to git 'em to live right. If Mr. Robert Chappell ain't in
+Heb'en, dere ain't no use for nobody else to try to git dar. His
+granddaughter married Jedge Matthews, and folks says she is most as good
+as her granddaddy was."
+
+Robert chuckled when he was asked to tell about his wedding. "Miss," he
+said, "I didn't have no sho' 'nough weddin'. Me and Julie jus' jumped
+over de broom in front of Marster and us was married. Dat was all dere
+was to it. Dat was de way most of de slave folks got married dem days.
+Us knowed better dan to ax de gal when us wanted to git married. Us jus'
+told our Marster and he done de axin'. Den, if it was all right wid de
+gal, Marster called all de other Niggers up to de big house to see us
+jump over de broom. If a slave wanted to git married to somebody on
+another place, den he told Marster and his Marster would talk to de
+gal's Marster. Whatever dey 'greed on was all right. If neither one of
+'em would sell one of de slaves what wanted to git married, den dey let
+'em go ahead and jump over de broom, and de man jus' visited his wife on
+her Marster's place, mostly on Wednesday and Sadday nights. If it was a
+long piece off, he didn't git dar so often. Dey had to have passes den,
+'cause de patterollers would git 'em sho' if dey didn't. Dat meant a
+thrashin', and dey didn't miss layin' on de stick, when dey cotch a
+Nigger.
+
+"Dese days, de boys and gals jus' walks off and don't say nothin' to
+nobody, not even to dey mammies and daddies. [TR: written in margin:
+"Elopement"] Now take dis daughter of mine--Callie is her name--she
+runned away when she was 'bout seventeen. Dat day her mammy had done
+sont her wid de white folks' clothes. She had on brass-toed brogan
+shoes, a old faded cotton dress dat was plum up to her knees,--dem days,
+long dresses was stylish--and she wore a old bonnet. She was totin' de
+clothes to Mrs. Reese and met up wid dat Davenport boy. Dey traips'd up
+to de courthouse, got a license, and was married 'fore me and Julie
+knowed nothin' 'bout it. Julie sho' did light out from hyar to go git
+Callie. She brung her back and kept her locked up in de house a long
+time 'fore she would let her live wid dat Nigger.
+
+"Us had our troubles den, but dey warn't lak de troubles us has now.
+Now, it seems lak dem was mighty good days back when Arch Street was
+jus' a path through de woods. Julie, she's done been gone a long time,
+and all of our chillun's daid 'cept three, and two of 'em is done gone
+up north. Jus' me and my Callie and de grandchillun is all dat's left
+here. Soon I'se gwine to be 'lowed to go whar Julie is and I'se ready
+any time, 'cause I done been here long 'nough."
+
+When the visitor arose to take her departure Robert said: "Good-bye
+Missy, come back to see me and Callie again 'cause us laked your
+'pearments (appearance) de fust time you was here. Jus' trust in de
+Lord, Miss, and He will take keer of you wharever you is."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE, AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE
+
+TOM SINGLETON, Ex-Slave, Age 94
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Sadie B. Hornsby
+Research Worker
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+Leila Harris
+Editor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: APR 27 1938]
+
+
+Uncle Tom lives alone in a one room cabin, about two and one half miles
+from town, on Loop-de-Loop road, not far from the Brooklyn section of
+Athens. He states that he lives alone because: "I wuz raised right and
+de Niggers dis day and time ain't had no raisin'. I just can't be
+bothered wid havin' 'em 'round me all de time. Dey ain't my sort of
+folkses." Uncle Tom says he will be 94 years old on May 15th of this
+year, but many believe that he is much older.
+
+When asked if he felt like talking about his experiences and observances
+while he was a slave, he said: "I don't know, Missie; I got a pow'ful
+hurtin' in my chest, and I'm too old to 'member much, but you ax me what
+you want to know and I'll try to tell you. I wuz born in Lumpkin County
+on Marster Joe Singleton's place. My ma wuz named Nancy Early, and she
+belonged to Marster Joe Early what lived in Jackson County. My pa's name
+wuz Joe Singleton. I don't 'member much 'bout my brothers and sisters.
+Ma and Pa had 14 chillun. Some of deir boys wuz me and Isaac, Jeff,
+Moses, and Jack; and deir gals wuz: Celia, Laura, Dilsey, Patsey,
+Frankie, and Elinor. Dese wuz de youngest chillun. I don't 'member de
+fust ones. I don't ricollect nothin' t'all 'bout my grandma and grandpa,
+cause us wuz too busy to talk in de daytime, and at night us wuz so
+whupped out from hard wuk us just went off to sleep early and never
+talked much at no time. All I knows 'bout 'em is dat I heared folkses
+say my gran'pa wuz 107 years old when he died. Folkses don't live dat
+long now-a-days.
+
+"De slave quarters wuz in rows and had two rooms and a shed. Dey had
+beds made out of poles fastened together wid pegs and 'cross 'em wuz
+laid de slats what dey spread de wheat straw on. Us had good kivver
+'cause our Marster wuz a rich man and he believed in takin' keer of his
+Niggers. Some put sheets dat wuz white as snow over de straw. Dem sheets
+wuz biled wid home-made soap what kept 'em white lak dat. Udder folkses
+put quilts over de straw. At de end of de slave quarters wuz de barns
+and cow sheds, and a little beyond dem wuz de finest pasture you ever
+seed wid clear water a-bubblin' out of a pretty spring, and runnin'
+thoo' it. Dar's whar dey turned de stock to graze when dey warn't
+wukkin' 'em."
+
+When Tom was asked if he ever made any money, a mischievous smile
+illumined his face. "Yes ma'am, you see I plowed durin' de day on old
+Marster's farm. Some of de white folks what didn't have many Niggers
+would ax old Marster to let us help on dey places. Us had to do dat wuk
+at night. On bright moonshiny nights, I would cut wood, fix fences, and
+sich lak for 'em. Wid de money dey paid me I bought Sunday shoes and a
+Sunday coat and sich lak, cause I wuz a Nigger what always did lak to
+look good on Sunday.
+
+"Yes ma'am, us had good clo'es de year 'round. Our summer clothes wuz
+white, white as snow. Old Marster said dey looked lak linen. In winter
+us wore heavy yarn what de women made on de looms. One strand wuz wool
+and one wuz cotton. Us wore our brogan shoes evvy day and Sunday too.
+Marster wuz a merchant and bought shoes from de tanyard. Howsomever, he
+had a colored man on his place what could make any kind of shoes.
+
+"Lawdy! Missie, us had evvythin' to eat; all kinds of greens, turnips,
+peas, 'tatoes, meat and chickens. Us wuz plumb fools 'bout fried chicken
+and chicken stew, so Marster 'lowed us to raise plenty of chickens, and
+sometimes at night us Niggers would git together and have a hee old
+time. No Ma'am, us didn't have no gyardens. Us didn't need none. Old
+Marster give us all de vittuls us wanted. Missie, you oughta seed dem
+big old iron spiders what dey cooked in. 'Course de white folkses called
+'em ovens. De biscuits and blackberry pies dey cooked in spiders, dey
+wuz somethin' else. Oh! don't talk 'bout dem 'possums! Makes me hongry
+just to think 'bout 'em. One night when pa and me went 'possum huntin',
+I put a 'possum what us cotched in a sack and flung it 'cross my back.
+Atter us started home dat 'possum chewed a hole in de sack and bit me
+square in de back. I 'member my pa had a little dog." Here he stopped
+talking and called a little black and white dog to him, and said: "He
+wuz 'bout de size of dis here dog, and pa said he could natchelly
+jus' make a 'possum de way he always found one so quick when us
+went huntin'." The old man sighed, and looking out across the field,
+continued: "Atter slav'ry days, Niggers turned dey chilluns loose,
+an' den de 'possums an' rabbits most all left, and dere ain't so many
+fishes left in de rivers neither."
+
+Tom could not recall much about his first master: "I wuz four year old
+when Marster Dr. Joe Singleton died. All I 'members 'bout him; he wuz a
+big man, and I sho' wuz skeered of him. When he cotch us in de branch,
+he would holler at us and say: 'Come out of dar 'fore you git sick.' He
+didn't 'low us to play in no water, and when, he hollered, us lit a rag.
+Dere wuz 'bout a thousand acres in Marse Joe's plantation, he owned a
+gold mine and a copper mine too. Old Marster owned 'bout 65 Niggers in
+all. He bought an' sold Niggers too. When Old Marster wanted to send
+news, he put a Nigger on a mule an' sont de message.
+
+"Atter Marse Joe died, old Mist'ess run de farm 'bout six years.
+Mist'ess' daughter, Miss Mattie, married Marster Fred Lucas, an' old
+Mist'ess sold her share in de plantation den. My pa, my sister, an' me
+wuz sold on de block at de sheriff's sale. Durin' de sale my sister
+cried all de time, an' Pa rubbed his han' over her head an' face, an' he
+said: 'Don't cry, you is gwine live wid young Miss Mattie.' I didn't cry
+none, 'cause I didn't care. Marse Fred bought us, an' tuk us to Athens
+to live, an' old Mist'ess went to live wid her chilluns.
+
+"Marse Fred didn't have a very big plantation; jus' 'bout 70 or 80 acres
+I guess, an' he had 'bout 25 Niggers. He didn't have no overseer. My pa
+wuz de one in charge, an' he tuk his orders from Marse Fred, den he went
+out to de farm, whar he seed dat de Niggers carried 'em out. Pa wuz de
+carriage driver too. It wuz his delight to drive for Marster and
+Mist'ess.
+
+"Marster and Mist'ess had eight chillun: Miss Mattie, Miss Mary, Miss
+Fannie, Miss Senie, Mr. Dave, Mr. Joe, Mr. Frank and Mr. Freddy. Dey
+lived in a big house, weather-boarded over logs, an' de inside wuz
+ceiled.
+
+"Marster an' Mist'ess sho' wuz good to us Niggers. Us warn't beat much.
+De onliest Nigger I 'member dey whupped wuz Cicero. He wuz a bad boy. My
+Marster never did whup me but onct. Mist'ess sont me up town to fetch
+her a spool of thread. I got to playin' marbles an' 'fore I knowed it,
+it wuz dinner time. When I got home, Mist'ess wuz mad sno' 'nough.
+Marster cotch me an' wore me out, but Mist'ess never touched me. I seed
+Niggers in de big jail at Watkinsville an' in de calaboose in Athens.
+Yes Ma'am! I seed plenty of Niggers sold on de block in Watkinsville. I
+ricollects de price of one Nigger run up to $15,000. All de sellin' wuz
+done by de sheriffs an' de slave Marsters.
+
+"Marster Fred Lucas sold his place whar he wuz livin' in town to Major
+Cook, an' moved to his farm near Princeton Factory. Atter Major Cook got
+kilt in de War, Marse Fred come back to town an' lived in his house
+again.
+
+"No Ma'am, dey warn't no schools for Niggers in slav'ry time. Mist'ess'
+daughters went to Lucy Cobb. Celia, my sister, wuz deir nurse, an' when
+all our little missies got grown, Celia wuz de house gal. So when our
+little missies went to school dey come home an' larnt Celia how to read
+an' write. 'Bout two years atter freedom, she begun to teach school
+herself.
+
+"Us had our own churches in town, an' de white folkses furnished our
+preachers. Once dey baptised 75 in de river below de Check Factory;
+white folkses fust, and Niggers last.
+
+"Oh! dem patterrollers! Dey wuz rough mens. I heared 'em say dey would
+beat de stuffin' out of you, if dey cotch you widout no pass.
+
+"Yes Ma'am! dar always wuz a little trouble twixt de white folkses an'
+Niggers; always a little. Heaps of de Niggers went Nawth. I wuz told
+some white men's livin' in town hyar helped 'em git away. My wife had
+six of 'er kinfolkses what got clean back to Africa, an' dey wrote back
+here from dar.
+
+"Us had parties an' dances at night. Sometimes Mist'ess let Celia wear
+some of de little missies' clo'es, 'cause she wanted her to outshine de
+other Nigger gals. Dey give us a week at Christmas time, an' Christmas
+day wuz a big day. Dey give us most evvythin': a knot of candy as big as
+my fist, an' heaps of other good things. At corn shuckin's Old Marster
+fotched a gallon keg of whiskey to de quarters an' passed it 'round.
+Some just got tipsy an' some got low down drunk. De onliest cotton
+pickin' us knowed 'bout wuz when us picked in de daytime, an' dey warn't
+no good time to dat. A Nigger can't even sing much wid his head all bent
+down pickin' cotton.
+
+"Folkses had fine times at weddin's dem days. Dar wuz more vittuls dan
+us could eat. Now dey just han' out a little somethin'. De white folkses
+had a fine time too. Dey let de Niggers git married in deir houses. If
+it wuz bad weather, den de weddin' wuz most genully in de hall, but if
+it wuz a pretty day, dey married in de yard.
+
+"I can't 'member much 'bout de games us played or de songs us sung. A
+few of de games wuz marbles, football, an' town ball. 'Bout dem witches,
+I don't know nothin'. Some of de folkses wore a mole foot 'roun' dey
+neck to keep bad luck away: some wore a rabbit's foot fer sharpness, an'
+it sholy did fetch sharpness. I don't know nothin' 'tall 'bout Rawhead
+and Bloody Bones, but I heared tell he got atter Mist'ess' chillun an'
+made 'em be good. Dey wuz pow'ful skeert of 'im.
+
+"Old Marster an' Mist'ess looked atter deir Niggers mighty well. When
+dey got sick, de doctor wuz sont for straight away. Yes Ma'am, dey
+looked atter 'em mighty well. Holly leaves an' holly root biled together
+wuz good for indigestion, an' blackgum an' blackhaw roots biled together
+an' strained out an' mixed wid whiskey wuz good for diffunt mis'ries.
+Some of de Niggers wore little tar sacks 'roun' dey necks to keep de
+fever 'way.
+
+"Yes Ma'am.' I wuz in de War 'bout two years, wid young Marster Joe
+Lucas. I waited on him, cooked for him, an' went on de scout march wid
+him, for to tote his gun, an' see atter his needs. I wuz a bugger in dem
+days!
+
+"I 'members I wuz standin' on de corner of Jackson Street when dey said
+freedom had come. Dat sho' wuz a rally day for de Niggers. 'Bout a
+thousand in all wuz standin' 'roun' here in Athens dat day. Yes Ma'am,
+de fust time de yankees come thoo' dey robbed an' stole all dey could
+find an' went on to Monroe. Next to come wuz de gyards to take charge of
+de town, an' dey wuz s'posed to set things to goin' right.
+
+"Atter de War I stayed on wid Marse Fred, an' wukked for wages for six
+years, an' den farmed on halves wid him. Some of de Niggers went on a
+buyin' spree, an' dey bought land, hand over fist. Some bought eight an'
+nine hundred acres at a time."
+
+When asked to tell about his wedding, a merry twinkle shone in his eyes:
+"Lawdy, Missie, dis ole Nigger nebber married 'til long atter de War. Us
+sho' did cut up jack. Us wuz too old to have any chillun, but us wuz so
+gay, us went to evvy dance 'til 'bout six years ago. She died den, an'
+lef' me all by myse'f.
+
+"Dat Mr. Abyham Lincoln wuz a reg'lar Nigger god. Us b'lieved dat Mr.
+Jeff. Davis wuz all right too. Booker Washin'ton give a speech here
+onct, an' I wuz dar, but de Niggers made sich a fuss over him I couldn't
+take in what he said."
+
+Asked what he thinks about slavery, now that it is over, he replied: "I
+think it is all right. God intended it. De white folks run de Injuns
+out, but dey is comin' back for sho'. God said every nation shall go to
+deir own land 'fore de end.
+
+"I just jined de church right lately. I had cut de buck when I wuz a
+young chap, and God has promised us two places, heb'en an' hell. I
+thinks it would be scand'lous for anybody to go to hell, so I 'cided to
+jine up wid de crowd goin' to heb'en."
+
+After the interview, he called to a little Negro boy that had wandered
+into the house: "Moses! gimme a drink of water! Fotch me a chaw of
+'bacco, Missie done tuck me up de crick, down de branch, now she's a
+gwine 'roun'. Hurry! boy, do as I say, gimme dat water. Nigger chillun,
+dis day an' time, is too lazy to earn deir bread. I wuz sorry to see you
+come, Missie 'cause my chest wuz a hurtin' so bad, but now I'se sorry to
+see you go." Out of breath, he was silent for a moment, then grinned and
+said: "I wuz just lookin' at de Injun on dis here nickle, you done
+gimme. He looks so happy! Good-bye, Missie, hurry an' come back! You
+helped dis old Nigger lots, but my chest sho' do hurt."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 6
+Ex slave 100]
+
+Mary A. Crawford
+Re-search Worker
+
+CHARLIE TYE SMITH, Ex-slave
+East Solomon Avenue,
+Griffin, Georgia
+
+September 16, 1936
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Charlie Tye Smith was born in Henry County, near Locust Grove, Georgia,
+on June 10, 1850 (as nearly as he can tell). His mother kept his age for
+him and had him tell it to her over and over when he was a little boy.
+The old fellow is well and rather alert, despite his eighty-six years.
+
+Mr. Jim Smith, of Henry County, was Charlie's owner and according to
+Charlie's version, "sho wuz a mighty good Marster". Mr. Smith owned a
+large plantation, and also "around one hundred and fifty, to two hundred
+Darkies". Charlie recalls that the slaves were well treated, seldom
+"whupped", and never "onmercifully". "Ole Miss", too, [HW: was]
+"powerful good" to the darkies, most especially to the "Chillun."
+
+The old man related the following incident in proof of Miss Nancy's
+goodness. About every two weeks "ole Miss" would have "ole Uncle Jim"
+bake "a whole passel of ginger cakes and tote 'em down to the cabins and
+jest pitch 'em out by de handfuls to de chillun!" The old man smiled
+broadly as he concluded the ginger cake story and said, "Charlie allus
+got his share. Miss Nancy seed to that, kase I wuz one of ole Miss's
+best little darkies". The interviewer inquired as to how so many ginger
+cakes could have been baked so easily, and he replied that "ole Marse"
+had a big rock-oven down at the spring about like what they boil syrup
+cane juice in today.
+
+The slaves on "Marse Jim's" place were allowed about four holidays a
+year, and a week at Christmas, to frolic. The amusements were dancing
+("the break-down"), banjo playing, and quill blowing. Sometimes when the
+"patarol" was in a good humor, he would take about twenty-five or thirty
+"Niggers" and go fishing at night. This kind of fishing was mostly
+seining, and usually "they got plenty o' fish".
+
+Charlie, true to his race, is quite superstitious and on many occasions
+"went into the cow lot on Christmas night and found the cows down on
+their knees 'a-lowin". He also witnessed the "sun shoutin" on Christmas
+morning and "made sho" to get up jest in time to see the sun as it first
+"showed itself." Here Charlie did some very special gesticulating to
+illustrate.
+
+The Negroes were required to go to Church on Sunday. They called it
+"gwine to meetin'", often leaving at sun up and walking ten or twelve
+miles to the meeting house, staying all day and late into the night.
+
+If "ole Marse" happened to be in a good humor on Sunday, he would let
+the Darkies use the "waggins" and mules. The little "Niggers" never went
+to meetin' as they were left at home to take care of the house and
+"nuss" the babies. There were no Sunday Schools in those days. When the
+grown folks got back late in the night, they often "had to do some tall
+knocking and banging to get in the house--'cause the chillun were so
+dead asleep, and layin' all over the floor".
+
+When asked if the slaves wouldn't be awfully tired and sleepy the next
+morning after they stayed up so late, he replied that they were "sho
+tired" but they had better turn out at four o'clock when ole Marse
+"blowed the horn!" They [TR: then?] he added with a chuckle, "the
+field was usually strowed with Niggers asleep in the cotton rows when
+they knocked off for dinner".
+
+"No, Miss, the Marster never give us no money (here he laughed), for we
+didn't need none. There wasn't nothing to buy, and we had plenty to eat
+and wear".
+
+"Yes, Mr. Jim and Miss Nancy believed in whuppin' and kep the raw hide
+hanging by the back door, but none o' Mr. Jim's Niggers evah got beat
+till dey bled".
+
+Charlie Tye recalls vividly when the Yankees passed through and
+graphically related the following incident. "The Yankees passed through
+and caught "ole Marse" Jim and made him pull off his boots and run
+bare-footed through a cane brake with half a bushel of potatoes tied
+around his neck; then they made him put his boots back on and carried
+him down to the mill and tied him to the water post. They were getting
+ready to break his neck when one of Master's slaves, "ole Peter Smith",
+asked them if they intended to kill "Marse Jim", and when they said
+"Yes", Peter choked up and said, "Well, please, suh, let me die wid ole
+Marse! Well, dem Yankees let ole Marse loose and left! Yes, Missy, dat's
+de truf 'case I've heered my daddy tell it many's the time!"
+
+Charlie is not working at all now as he is too old and is supported by
+the Griffin Relief Association. For forty-five years he served as
+janitor in the various public schools of Griffin.
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE, AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE
+
+GEORGIA SMITH, Age 87
+286 Augusta Ave.
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Miss Grace McCune
+Research Worker
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Editor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Athens, Georgia
+
+WPA Residency No. 6
+April 6, 1938
+
+
+The cold, rainy, and altogether disagreeable weather on the outside was
+soon forgotten when the interviewer was admitted to the neat little home
+of Aunt Georgia Smith and found the old woman enjoying the cheerful
+warmth of her blazing fire.
+
+Aunt Georgia appeared to be quite feeble. She was not only willing, but
+eager to talk of her experiences, and explained that her slow and rather
+indistinct articulation is one of the several bad after effects of her
+recent stroke of paralysis.
+
+"My pappy was Blackstone Smith, and he b'longed to Marse Jeb Smith. My
+mammy was Nancy Chappell, owned by Mistus Peggie Chappell.
+
+"I stayed wid my mammy on Mistus Chappell's plantation in Oglethorpe
+County, near old Antioch Church. W'en I was 'bout five or six years ole
+my mammy died. Den my pappy done come an' got me, an' I was to stay wid
+'im on Marster Smith's place. Dey was good to me dar, but I warn't
+satisfied, an' I cried for Old Mistus.
+
+"I'd jes' go 'roun' snifflin', an' not eatin' nuffin', an' one day w'en
+us was pickin' peaches, Marster Smith tole my pappy he better take dat
+chile back to her old mistus, 'fo' she done git sick fer sho'.
+
+"Hit was de next day w'en dey ax me did I want to see Old Mistus an' I
+jes' cry an' say, 'yassum.' Den Marster say: 'Blackstone, hitch a mule
+to dat wagon, an' take dat chile right back to her Old Mistus.' I tell
+'em I can walk, but dey made me ride in de wagon, an' I sho' was glad I
+was goin' back home.
+
+"I seed Old Mistus 'fo' I got dar, an' jumped out of de wagon an' run to
+'er. W'en she seed me, she jes' grabbed me, an' I thought she was a
+laughin', but when I seed dat she was cryin', I tole 'er not to cry, dat
+I warn't goin' to leave 'er no mo'.
+
+"Mistus sho' was good to me, but she was good to all 'er niggers, an'
+dey all loved 'er. Us allus had plenny of evvything, she made us wear
+plenny of good warm clo'es, an' us wo'e flannel petticoats when hit was
+cole weather. Chillun don't wear 'nuff clo'es dese days to keep 'em
+warm, an nuffin' on deir legs. Hits a wonder dey doan' freeze.
+
+"I diden' stay at de quarters with de udder niggers. Mistus kep' me in
+de big 'ouse wid 'er, an' I slep' on a cotton mattress on de floor by de
+side of 'er bed. She had a stick dat she used to punch me wid w'en she
+wannid somepin' in de night, an' effen I was hard to wake, she sho'
+could punch wid dat stick.
+
+"Mistus diden' ever have us niggers whipped 'lessen it jes' had to be
+done. An' if us chilluns was bad, fussin' an' fightin', Mistus would git
+'er a stick, but us would jes' run an' hide, an' Mistus would forgit all
+'bout it in jes' a little w'ile.
+
+"Marster was dead, an' us had a overseer, but he was good to us jes'
+lak' Mistus was. Hit was a big old plantation, wid lots of niggers. W'en
+de overseer would try to larn de chilluns to plow an' dey diden' want to
+larn, dey would jes' play 'roun'. Sometimes dey snuck off to de udder
+side of de fiel' an' hunnid for lizards. Dey would hold a lizard's head
+wid a stick, an' spit 'bacco juice in 'is mouf an' turn 'im loose. De
+'bacco juice would make de lizard drunk, and he would run 'roun' an'
+'roun'. Dey would cotch snakes, kill dem an' hang de skins on trees so
+hit would rain an' dey wouldn't have to wuk in de fiel'.
+
+"De quarters was built away f'um de big 'ouse. Dey was cabins made of
+logs an' dey all had dey own gardens whar dey raised all kinds of
+vegetables an' allus had plenny of hog meat. De cookin' was done on a
+big fireplace an' in brick ovens. 'Taters was baked in de ashes, an' dey
+sho' was good.
+
+"Dey had big times huntin' an' fishin' w'en de wuk was over. Dey cotch
+lots of 'possums, an' had big 'possum suppers. De 'possums was roasted
+with plenny of 'taters, butter an' red pepper. Us would eat an' dance
+most of de night w'en us had a 'possum supper.
+
+"De rabbits was so bad in de gardens dat dey tuk white rags an' tied 'em
+on sticks stuck up in de ground. Rabbits woulden' come 'roun' den, cyaze
+dey was 'fraid of dem white rags flyin' on de sticks.
+
+"Mistus b'lieved in lookin' atter her niggers w'en dey was sick. She
+would give 'em medicine at home. Candy an' tea, made wid ho'e houn' an'
+butterfly root tea was good for worms; dewberry wine, lak'wise dewberry
+root tea was good for de stomach ache; samson snake root an' poplar bark
+tea was good medicine for coles an' so'e th'oats, an' w'en you was in
+pain, de red pepper bag would sho' help lots sometimes. If de homemade
+medicine diden' cyore 'em, den Mistus sont for de doctor.
+
+"Slaves went to de white folkses chu'ch an' sot up in de gallery. Dey
+stayed all day at chu'ch, an' had big dinners on de groun'. Dem was sho'
+'nough good dinners. Us had big times on meetin' days.
+
+"Our slaves had prayer meetin' twict a week in deir quarters, 'til dey
+got 'roun' to all de cabins den dey would start over again. Dey prayed
+an' sung all de old songs, and some of 'em as I 'member are: 'Roll
+Jordan Roll,'--'Better Mind How you Step on de Cross,'--'Cause You Ain'
+Gon 'er be Here Long,'--'Tell de Story Bye an' Bye,'--'All God's
+Chilluns are a Gatherin' Home,' an' 'We'll Understand Better Bye an'
+Bye.' Dey really could sing dem old songs. Mistus would let me go to dem
+cabin prayer meetin's an' I sho' did enjoy 'em.
+
+"W'en slaves died dey jes' tuk 'em off an buried 'em. I doan' 'member
+'em ever havin' a funeral, 'til way atter freedom done come an' niggers
+got dey own chu'ches.
+
+"I 'member one night dey had a quiltin' in de quarters. De quilt was up
+in de frame, an' dey was all jes' quiltin' an' singin', 'All God's
+Chilluns are a Gatherin' Home,' w'en a drunk man wannid to preach, an'
+he jumped up on de quilt. Hit all fell down on de flo', an' dey all got
+fightin' mad at 'im. Dey locked 'im in de smokehouse 'til mornin', but
+dey diden' nobody tell Mistus nuffin' 'bout it.
+
+"Us chilluns had to pick peas; two baskets full 'fo' dinner an' two 'fo'
+night, an' dey was big baskets too. I 'member dere was a white widow
+'oman what lived near our place, an' she had two boys. Mistus let dem
+boys pick 'em some peas w'en us would be pickin', an' us would run 'em
+off, cause us diden' lak' po' white trash. But Mistus made us let 'em
+pick all dey wannid.
+
+"I was 'bout twelve years old w'en freedom come, an' was big 'nough to
+wait on Mistus good den. I 'member how I used to run to de spring wid a
+little tin bucket w'en she wannid a fresh drink of water.
+
+"Mos' of de slaves stayed with Mistus atter freedom come, 'cause dey all
+loved her, an' dey diden' have no place to go. Mistus fed 'em jes' lak'
+she had allus done and paid 'em a little money too. Us diden' never have
+no fussin' an' fightin' on our place, an' de Ku Klux Klan never come
+'roun' dar, but de niggers had to have a ticket if dey lef' de place on
+Sunday. Dat was so de paddyrollers woulden' whip 'em if dey cotch 'em.
+
+"All de niggers on de udder places, called us free niggers long 'fo'
+freedom come, 'cause we diden' have no whippin' post, an' if any of us
+jes' had to be whipped, Mistus would see dat dey warn't beat bad 'nough
+to leave no stripes.
+
+"My pappy left de old Smith plantation, soon atter he got 'is freedom,
+an' went to Augusta, Georgia whar he died in jes' 'bout two years.
+
+"I waked up one mornin' an' heered Mistus makin' a funny fuss. She was
+tryin' to git up an' pullin' at her gown. I was plum skeert an' I runned
+atter some of de udder folkses. Dey come a runnin' but she never did
+speak no mo', an' diden' live but jes' a few hours longer. De white
+folkses made me go to 'er funeral. Dere sho' was a big crowd of folkses
+dar, 'cause evvybody loved Mistus; she was so good to evvybody. Dey
+diden' preach long, mos'ly jes' prayed an' sung Mistus' favorite songs:
+'All God's Chillun are a Gatherin' Home,' and', 'We'll Understand Bye
+an' Bye.'
+
+"I lef' de old place not long atter Mistus died, 'cause hit was too
+lonesome dar an' I missed her so much, I come to town an' jes' wukked
+for white folkses. I doan' 'member all of 'em. But I cain' wuk no mo'
+now, an' hit woan' be so long 'til I see my old Mistus again, an' den I
+can still wait on her, an' we woan' have to part no mo'."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 2
+Ex Slave 101]
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:
+MARY SMITH
+910 Spruce Street
+Augusta, Georgia
+(Richmond County)
+
+BY: (Mrs.) Margaret Johnson
+Editor
+Fed. Writer's Proj.
+Augusta, Georgia
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Such a hovel, such squalor it would be hard to imagine. Only first hand
+observation could be a reliable witness to such conditions.
+
+Into a tiny room was squeezed a double and a single bed with a
+passage-way barely wide enough to walk between the two beds. The door
+from the small porch could be opened only enough to allow one to enter,
+as the head on the single bed was against it. A small fire burned in the
+open fire place. An old man, ragged but respectful, and two old women
+were sitting in the room, one on a broken chair, the other on an empty
+nail keg. As we entered the room one of the old women got up, took a
+badly clipped and handleless teacup from the hearth and offered it to a
+girl lying in the single bed, in a smother of dirty quilts.
+
+Mary was a squat figure, her head tied up in a dirty towel, her dress
+ragged and dirty, and much too small for her abundant figure. She
+welcomed us telling us the "po chile was bad sick" but she would talk to
+us. As the door of the lean-to kitchen was open, it offered a breath of
+outside air, even though polluted with the garbage scattered on the
+ground, and the odors from chickens, cats and dogs meandering about.
+
+Mary's round face was unwrinkled, but the wisps of wool showing beneath
+her "head rag" were grey, and her eyes were rheumy with age. She was
+entirely toothless and her large tongue rolled ceaselessly in her mouth,
+chewing nothing.
+
+Her articulation necessarily was very poor. "I wus seven yeres old when
+Freedum cum. My ma and pa belonged to Mr. McNorrell of Burke County.
+Miss Sally was a good lady and kind to evebody. My marster was a good
+man cuz he was a preacher, I never member him whuppin' anybody. I
+'members slavry, yes mam, I 'members all the slaves' meals wus cooked in
+de yard, in big pots hung up on hooks on a iron bar. The fust wurk I
+ever done wus to push fire wood under dem pots. Mostly I stayed home and
+minded de baby. My ma uster pin a piece of fat back on my dres' before
+she went to de fiel' and when de baby cry I tek him up and let 'em suck
+'em. My brudder you see sittin' in dere, he de baby I uster mine. My pa
+wuz the blacksmith on the plantashun, and he mek all de plows and tings
+like dat. My ma tek me to de fiel when I wuz 'bout sever yeres ole and
+teach me to chop cotton, I don't member what happen when freedom come,
+tings wuz 'bout de same, fur as we chillun knowed."
+
+
+
+
+Elizabeth Watson
+M.G. 7/15/37
+
+MELVIN SMITH, Ex-Slave, 96 Years
+[Date Stamp: JUL 28 1937]
+
+
+"Yes'm, I show does 'member all 'about my white folks an' th' war 'cause
+I was twenty-four year ole when th' war was over. I was born in 1841 an'
+that makes me 'bout eighty-seven now, don't it?"
+
+Old Melvin Smith sat back in his chair with a smile of satisfaction on
+his face. He was seated on the narrow porch of his little cabin with the
+bright sunshine beaming down upon him. But his blind eyes could not
+notice the glare from the sun. His wife and daughter appeared from
+around the corner of the house and took their places near him to hear
+again the story that they had heard many times before.
+
+"My white folks lived in Beaufort, South Ca'lina, an' that's whar I was
+born," Melvin continued. "My old Miss, I called her Miss Mary, took care
+of me 'till I was eight year old. Then she give me back to my ma. You
+see, it was this a-way. My ma an' pa was sold in Beaufort; I don't know
+whar they come from before that. When I was born Miss Mary took me in
+th' big house with her an' thar I stayed, jest like I told you, 'till I
+was eight. Old Miss jest wanted me to be in th' room with her an' I
+slep' on a pallet right near her bed. In the daytime I played in th'
+yard an' I pick up chips for old Miss. Then when I got most big enuff to
+work she give me back to my ma.
+
+"Then I live in a cabin like the rest of th' niggers. Th' quarters was
+stretched out in a line behind Marse Jim's house. Ever' nigger fam'ly
+had a house to theyselves. Me an' my pa an' ma, they names was Nancy an'
+Henry Smith, live in a cabin with my sisters. They names was Saphronia
+an' Annie. We had beds in them cabins made out of cypress. They looked
+jest like they do now. Ever'body cooked on th' fire place. They had pots
+an' boilers that hung over th' fire an' we put th' vittles in thar an'
+they cooked an' we et 'em. 'Course we never et so much in th' cabin
+'cause ever mornin' th' folks all went to th' field. Ma an' Pa was field
+hands an' I worked thar too when I got big enuff. Saphronia an' Annie,
+they worked to th' big house. All th' nigger chillun stayed all day with
+a woman that was hired to take care of them."
+
+When asked about the kind of food they ate, Melvin replied:
+
+"We had enuff for anybody. Th' vittles was cooked in great big pots over
+th' fire jest like they was cookin' for stock. Peas in this pot, greens
+in that one. Corn-bread was made up an' put back in th' husks an' cooked
+in th' ashes. They called that a ash cake. Well, when ever'thing was
+done th' vittles was poured in a trough an' we all et. We had spoons cut
+out of wood that we et with. Thar was a big lake on th' plantation whar
+we could fish an' they show was good when we had 'em for supper.
+Sometimes we go huntin' an' then we had possum an' squirrel to eat. Th'
+possums was best of all."
+
+Melvin was asked to tell something about his master's family.
+
+"Old Marster was name Jim Farrell an' his wife was Miss Mary. They had
+three chillun name Mary, Jim an' Martha. They live in a big white house
+sot off from th' road 'bout two an' a half mile from Beaufort. Marster
+was rich I reckon 'cause he had 'bout a sixteen horse farm an' a whole
+hoodle of niggers. If you measured 'em it would a-been several cowpens
+full. Heap of them niggers worked in Marster's house to wait on th'
+white folks. They had a heap of comp'ny so they had to have a heap of
+niggers. Marster was good to his niggers but he had a overseer that was
+a mean man. He beat th' niggers so bad that Marster showed him th' road
+an' told him to git. Then th' Boss an' his son looked after th' hands
+theyselves 'till they could git another one. That overseer's name was
+Jimmy.
+
+"Ever' mornin' at four clock th' overseer blowed a conchshell an' all us
+niggers knowed it was time to git up an' go to work. Sometimes he blowed
+a bugle that'd wake up the nation. Ever'body worked from sunup 'till
+sundown. If we didn't git up when we was s'posed to we got a beatin'.
+Marster'd make 'em beat the part that couldn't be bought." Melvin
+chuckled at his own sly way of saying that the slaves were whipped
+through their clothes.
+
+"In the summertime," he continued, "We wore shirts that come down to
+here." Melvin measured to his ankle. "In the wintertime we wore heavy
+jeans over them shirts an' brogan shoes. They made shoes on the
+plantation but mine was store-bought. Marster give us all the vittles
+an' clothes we needed. He was good to ever'body. I 'member all the po'
+white trash that lived near us. Marster all time send 'em meat an' bread
+an' help 'em with they crop. Some of 'em come from Goldsboro, North
+Ca'lina to git a crop whar we lived. They was so sorry they couldn't git
+no crop whar they come frum, so they moved near us. Sometimes they even
+come to see the niggers an' et with us. We went to see them, too, but we
+had more to eat than them. They was sorry folks."
+
+After a pause, Melvin asked:
+
+"Did you ever hear how the niggers was sold? They was put on a stage on
+the courthouse square an' sold kinder like they was stock. The prettiest
+one got the biggest bid. They said that they was a market in North
+Ca'lina but I never see'd it. The ones I saw was jest sold like I told
+you. Then they went home with they marsters. If they tried to run away
+they sont the hounds after them. Them dogs would sniff around an' first
+news you knowed they caught them niggers. Marster's niggers run away
+some but they always come back. They'd hear that they could have a
+better time up north so they think they try it. But they found out that
+they wasn't no easy way to live away from Marster. He always took 'em
+back, didn't beat 'em nor nothin'. I run away once myself but I never
+went nowhere." Melvin's long body shook with laughter as he thought of
+his prank. He shifted in his chair and then began:
+
+"I was 'bout sixteen an' I took a notion I was grown. So I got under the
+house right under Marster's dinin' room an' thar I stayed for three
+months. Nobody but the cook knowed whar I was. They was a hole cut in
+the floor so ever' day she lifted the lid an' give me something to eat.
+Ever' day I sneaked out an' got some water an' walked about a bit but I
+never let nobody see me. I jest got biggety like chillun does now. When
+I got ready to come out for good I went 'way round by the barn an' come
+up so nobody know whar I been. Ol' Miss was standin' in the yard an' she
+spy me an' say, 'Jim," she always call all us niggers Jim 'cause that
+was Marster's name. She say, "Jim, whar you been so long?' I say, 'I
+been to Mr. Jones's workin' but I don't like the way they treat me. You
+all treats me better over here so I come back home.' I say, 'You ain't
+gonna whip me is you, Miss?' Ol' Miss say, 'No, I ain't gonna whip you
+this time but if you do such a thing again I'm gonna use all the leather
+on this place on you." So I went on 'bout my business an' they never
+bothered me."
+
+Melvin was asked about the church he attended. To this he replied:
+
+"The niggers had a church in the bush arbor right thar on the place.
+Preacher Sam Bell come ever' Sunday mornin' at ten clock an' we sot thar
+an' listened to him 'till 'leven thirty. Then we tear home an' eat our
+dinner an' lie round till four-thirty. We'd go back to church an' stay
+'bout hour an' come home for supper. The preacher was the onliest one
+that could read the Bible. When a nigger joined the church he was
+baptized in the creek near the bush arbor." And in a low tone he began
+to speak the words of the old song though he became somewhat confused.
+
+  "Lord, remember all Thy dying groans,
+     And then remember me.
+   While others fought to win the prize
+     And sailed through bloody sea.
+
+  "Through many dangers, toils an' snares,
+     I have already come.
+   I once was lost but now am found,
+     Was blind but now I see."
+
+"I've knowed that song for a long time. I been a member of the church
+for sixty year."
+
+When asked about the war, Melvin became somewhat excited. He rose feebly
+to his feet and clasped his walking stick as if it were a gun.
+
+"I see'd the Yankee soldiers drill right thar in front of our house," he
+said. "They'd be marchin' 'long this way (Melvin stumblingly took a few
+steps across the porch) an' the cap'n say, 'Right' an' they turn back
+this here way." Melvin retraced his steps to illustrate his words.
+"Cap'n say, 'Aim' an' they aim." He lifted his stick and aimed. "Cap'n
+say, 'Fire' an' they fire. I see'd 'em most ever' day. Ol' Marster was a
+cap'n in our army. I hear big guns a-boomin' all a-time an' the sights I
+did see! Streets jest runnin' with blood jest like it was water. Here
+lay a man on this side with his legs shot off; on that thar side they
+was a man with his arms shot off. Some of them never had no head. It was
+a terrible sight. I wasn't scared 'cause I knowed they wouldn't hurt me.
+Them Yankees never bothered nothin' we had. I hear some folks say that
+they stole they vittles but they never bothered ours 'cause they had
+plenty of they own. After the war Marster called us together an' say,
+'You is free an' can go if you want to' an' I left, so that's all I
+know."
+
+A few days later a second visit was made to Melvin. This time he was on
+the inside of his little cabin and was all alone. He came forward, a
+broad smile on his face, when he heard familiar voices.
+
+"I been thinkin' 'bout what I told you an' I b'lieve that's 'bout all I
+'member," he said.
+
+Then he was asked if he remembered any days when the slaves did not have
+to work.
+
+"Yes'm," was the reply. "We never worked on Christmas or the Fourth of
+July. Marster always give us big sacks of fruit an' candy on Christmas
+an' a barbecue the Fourth of July. We never worked none New Year's Day,
+neither. We jest sot around an' et chicken, fish an' biscuit. Durin' the
+week on Wednesday an' Thursday night we had dances an' then they was a
+lot of fiddlin' an' banjo playin'. We was glad to see days when we never
+had to work 'cause then we could sleep. It seem like the niggers had to
+git up soon's they lay down. Marster was good to us but the overseer was
+mean. He wan't no po' white trash; he was up-to-date but he like to beat
+on niggers."
+
+When asked if he has been happier since he was freed, he replied:
+
+"In a sense the niggers is better off since freedom come. Ol' Marster
+was good an' kind but I like to be free to go whar I please. Back then
+we couldn't go nowhar 'less we had a pass. We don't have no overseer to
+bother us now. It ain't that I didn't love my Marster but I jest likes
+to be free. Jest as soon as Marster said I didn't b'long to nobody no
+more I left an' went to Tallahassee. Mr. Charlie Pearce come an' wanted
+some hands to work in orange groves an' fish for him so that's what I
+done. He took a whole crew. While we was down thar Miss Carrie Standard,
+a white lady, had a school for the colored folks. 'Course, my ol' Miss
+had done taught me to read an' write out of the old blue back Webster
+but I had done forgot how. Miss Carrie had 'bout fifteen in her class.
+
+"I stayed in Tallahassee three years an' that's whar I married the first
+time. I was jest romancin' about an' happened to see Ca'line Harris so I
+married her. That was a year after the war. We never had no preacher but
+after we been goin' together for such a long time folks say we married.
+We married jest like the colored folks does now. When I left Tallahassee
+I moved to another place in Florida, thirteen mile from Thomasville, Ga.
+I stay thar 'bout thirty-seven year. My first wife died an' I married
+another. The second one lived twenty-one year an' I married again. The
+one what's livin' now is my third one. In 1905 she had a baby that was
+born with two lower teeth. It never lived but a year. In all, I've had
+twenty-three chillun. They most all lives in Florida an' I don't know
+what they doin' or how many chillun they got. I got four gran'-chillun
+livin' here."
+
+Melvin was asked to tell what he knew of the Ku Klux Klan. He answered:
+
+"I don't know nothin' 'bout that, I hear somethin' 'bout it but I never
+b'lieved in it. I b'lieve in h'ants, though. I ain't never see'd one but
+I'se heard 'em. When you walkin' 'long an' a twig snaps an' you feel
+like you want to run an' your legs won't move an' your hair feels like
+it's goin' to rise off your head, that's a ha'nt after you. That sho is
+the evil sperrit. An' if you ain't good somethin' bad'll happen to you."
+
+When asked why he joined the church, he replied:
+
+"So many people is tryin' to live on flowery beds of ease that the world
+is in a gamblin' position an' if it wasn't for the Christian part, the
+world would be destroyed. They ask God for mercy an' He grants it. When
+they git in trouble they can send a telegram wire an' git relief from on
+high."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by Ex-Slave
+
+NANCY SMITH, Age about 80
+129 Plum Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Grace McCune
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Residencies 6 & 7
+
+
+Nancy Smith was in bed when the interviewer called. The aged Negress
+appeared to be quite feeble but, even though she was alone in the house,
+her head was tied up in a snowy white cloth and the sickroom was neat
+and clean. The bowl of fresh flowers on her bedside table was no gayer
+than Nancy's cheerful chuckle as she repeated the doctor's instructions
+that she must stay in bed because of a weak heart. "Lawsy Chile," she
+said, "I ain't dead yit." Nancy stated that the grandson who lives with
+her has been preparing breakfast and cleaning the room since she has
+been bedridden, and that a niece who lives nearby comes in occasionally
+during the day to look after her.
+
+Asked if she felt strong enough to talk about the old plantation days,
+she answered: "I jus' loves to talk 'bout old times, and I spends a lot
+of dis lonesome time here by myself jus' a-studyin' 'bout dem days. But
+now listen, Chile, and understand dis. I warn't no plantation Negro. Our
+white folks was town folks, dey was. My Mammy and Daddy was Julia and
+Jack Carlton. Dey belonged to old Marster, Dr. Joe Carlton, and us lived
+right here in town in a big white house dat had a upstairs and a
+downstairs in it. Our house stood right whar de courthouse is now.
+Marster had all dat square and his mother, Mist'ess Bessie Carlton,
+lived on de square de other side of Marse Joe's. His office was on de
+corner whar de Georgia (Georgian) Hotel is now, and his hoss stable was
+right whar da Cain's boardin' house is. Honey, you jus' ought to have
+seed Marse Joe's hoss stable for it sho' was a big one.
+
+"No Mam, I don't know 'zactly how old I is. I was born 'fore de war, and
+Marse Joe kept de records of all of us and evvything, but somehow dem
+books got lost. Folks said I was 'bout de age of Marse Joe's son, Dr.
+Willie. Marster had three boys: Dr. Joe, Jr., Dr. Willie, and Dr.
+Jimmie, and dere was one little Mist'ess. She was Miss Julia. Us all
+played 'round in de yard together.
+
+"Daddy, he was de car'iage driver. He driv Marse Joe 'round, 'cept when
+Mist'ess wanted to go somewhar. Den Daddy driv de coach for her, and
+Marse Joe let another boy go wid him.
+
+"De biggest, bestest fireplace up at de big house was in de kitchen whar
+Mammy done de cookin'. It had a great wide hearth wid four big swingin'
+racks and four big old pots. Two of de ovens was big and two was little.
+Dat was better cookin' 'rangements and fixin's dan most of de other
+white folks in dis town had den. When dat fire got good and hot and dere
+was plenty of ashes, den Mammy started cookin' ash cakes and 'taters.
+One of Mammy's good ash-roasted 'taters would be awful good right now
+wid some of dat good old home-made butter to go wid it. Marster allus
+kept jus' barrels and barrels of good old home-made 'lasses sirup,
+'cause he said dat was what made slave chilluns grow fast and be strong.
+Folks don't know how to have plenty of good things to eat lak us had
+den. Jus' think of Marse Joe's big old plantation down nigh de Georgia
+Railroad whar he raised our somepin' t'eat: vegetables sich as green
+corn, 'taters, cabbages, onions, collards, turnip greens, beans,
+peas--more than I could think up all day--and dere was plenty of wheat,
+rye, and corn for our bread.
+
+"Out dar de pastur's was full of cows, hogs and sheep, and dey raised
+lots of chickens and turkeys on dat farm. Dey clipped wool from dem
+sheep to weave wid de cotton when dey made cloth for our winter clothes.
+
+"Marster had a overseer to look atter his plantation, but us chillun in
+town sho'ly did love to be 'lowed to go wid him or whoever went out dar
+when dey needed somepin' at de big house from de farm. Dey needed us to
+open and shut gates and run errands, and whilest dey was gittin' up what
+was to be took back to town, us would run 'round seein' evvything us
+could.
+
+"Honey, de clothes us wore den warn' t lak what folks has now. Little
+gals jus' wore slips cut all in one piece, and boys didn't wear nothin'
+but long shirts 'til dey was big enough to wuk in de fields. Dat was
+summertime clothes. In winter, dey give us plenty of warm clothes wid
+flannel petticoats and brass-toed shoes. Grown-up Negroes had dresses
+what was made wid waisties and skirts sewed together. Dey had a few
+gathers in de skirts, but not many. De men wore homespun britches wid
+galluses to hold 'em up. White folks had lots better clothes. Mist'ess'
+dresses had full, ruffled skirts and, no foolin', her clothes was sho'ly
+pretty. De white menfolks wore plain britches, but dey had bright
+colored coats and silk vests dat warn't lak de vests de men wears now.
+Dem vests was more lak fancy coats dat didn't have no sleeves. Some
+folks called 'em 'wescoats.' White chillun never had no special clothes
+for Sunday.
+
+"Miss Julia used to make me sweep de yard wid a little brushbroom and I
+had to wear a bonnet den to keep dust out of my hair. Dat bonnet was
+ruffled 'round de front and had staves to hold de brim stiff, but in de
+back it didn't have no ruffle; jus' de bottom of de crown what us called
+de bonnet tail. Dem bonnets looked good enough in front but mighty
+bob-tailed in de back.
+
+"Dey used to have big 'tracted meetin's in Pierce's Chapel nigh Foundry
+Street and Hancock Avenue, and us was allus glad for dem meetin' times
+to come. Through de week dey preached at night, but when Sunday come it
+was all day long and dinner on de ground. Pierce's Chapel was a old
+fashioned place, but you forgot all 'bout dat when Brother Thomas got in
+de pulpit and preached dem old time sermons 'bout how de devil gwine to
+git you if you don't repent and be washed in de blood of de Lamb. De
+call to come up to de mourner's bench brought dem Negroes jus' rollin'
+over one another in de 'citement. Soon dey got happy and dere was
+shoutin' all over de place. Some of 'em jus' fell out. When de 'tracted
+meetin' closed and de baptizin' dey come, dat was de happiest time of
+all. Most of de time dere was a big crowd for Brother Thomas to lead
+down into de river, and dem Negroes riz up out of de water a-singin':
+_Lord, I'm comin' Home_, _Whar de Healin' Waters Flow_, _Roll, Jordan
+Roll_, _All God's Chillun Got Wings_, and sich lak. You jus' knowed dey
+was happy.
+
+"No Mam, I don't 'member much 'bout folks dyin' in dem days 'cause I
+never did love to go 'round dead folks. De first corpse I ever seed was
+Marse Joe's boy, young Marse Jimmy. I was skeered to go in dat room 'til
+I had done seed him so peaceful lak and still in dat pretty white
+casket. It was a sho' 'nough casket, a mighty nice one; not lak dem old
+home-made coffins most folks was buried in. Hamp Thomas, a colored man
+dat lived right below us, made coffins for white folks and slaves too.
+Some of dem coffins was right nice. Dey was made out of pine mostly, and
+sometimes he painted 'em and put a nice linin' over cotton paddin'. Dat
+made 'em look better dan de rough boxes de porest folks was buried in.
+Mammy said dat when slaves died out on de plantation day wropped de
+'omans in windin' sheets and laid 'em on coolin' boards 'til de coffins
+was made, Dey put a suit of homespun clothes on de mens when dey laid
+'em out. Dey jus' had a prayer when dey buried plantation slaves, but
+when de crops was laid by, maybe a long time atter de burial, dey would
+have a white man come preach a fun'ral sermon and de folks would all
+sing: _Harps (Hark) From De Tomb_ and _Callin' God's Chillun Home_.
+
+"Dere warn't no patterollers in town, but slaves had to have passes if
+dey was out atter 9:00 o'clock at night or de town marshal would put a
+fine on 'em if dey couldn't show no pass.
+
+"De fust I knowed 'bout de war was when Marse Joe's brother, Marse
+Bennie Carlton, left wid de other sojers and pretty soon he got kilt. I
+was little den, and it was de fust time I had ever seed our Mist'ess
+cry. She jus' walked up and down in de yard a-wringin' her hands and
+cryin'. 'Poor Benny's been killed,' she would say over and over.
+
+"When dem yankee sojers come, us warn't much skeered 'cause Marse Joe
+had done told us all 'bout 'em and said to spect 'em 'fore long. Sho'
+'nough, one day dey come a-lopin' up in Marse Joe's yard. Dey had dem
+old blue uniforms on and evvy one of 'em had a tin can and a sack tied
+to his saddle. Marster told us dey kept drinkin' water in dem cans and
+dey called 'em canteens. De sacks was to carry deir victuals in. Dem
+fellows went all through out big house and stole whatever dey wanted.
+Dey got all of Mist'ess' best silver 'cause us didn't have no time to
+hide it atter us knowed dey was nigh 'round de place. Dey tuk all de
+somepin' t'eat dere was in de big house. When dey had done et all dey
+wanted and tuk evvything else dey could carry off, dey called us Negroes
+up 'fore deir captain, and he said all of us was free and could go any
+time and anywhar us wanted to go. Dey left, and us never seed 'em in dat
+yard no more. Marse Joe said all of us dat wanted to could stay on wid
+him. None of us had nowhar else to go and 'sides nobody wanted to go
+nowhar else, so evvy one of Marse Joe's Negroes stayed right on wid him
+dat next year. Us warn't skeered of dem Kluxers (Ku Klux Klan) here in
+town, but dey was right bad out on de plantations.
+
+"'Bout de time I was old enough to go to school, Daddy moved away from
+Marse Joe's. Us went over to de other side of de river nigh whar de old
+check mill is. Dey had made guns dar durin' de war, and us chillun used
+to go and look all through dat old mill house. Us played 'long de river
+banks and went swimmin' in de river. Dem was de good old days, but us
+never realized it den.
+
+"I never went to school much, 'cause I jus' couldn't seem to larn
+nothin'. Our teachers said I didn't have no talent for book larnin'.
+School was taught in Pierce's Chapel by a Negro man named Randolph, and
+he sho'ly did make kids toe da mark. You had better know dem lessons or
+you was gwine to git fanned out and have to stay in atter school. Us got
+out of school evvy day at 2:00 o'clock. Dat was 'cause us was town
+chillun. I was glad I didn't live in de country 'cause country schools
+kept de chillun all day long.
+
+"It was sort of funny to be able to walk out and go in town whenever us
+wanted to widout gittin' Marster's consent, but dere warn't nothin' much
+to go to town for 'less you wanted to buy somepin. A few stores, mostly
+on Broad Street, de Town Hall, and de Fire Hall was de places us headed
+for. Us did love to hang 'round whar dat fire engine was, 'cause when a
+fire broke out evvybody went, jus' evvybody. Folks would form lines from
+de nearest cisterns and wells and pass dem buckets of water on from one
+to another 'til dey got to de man nighest de fire.
+
+"Soon as I was big enough, I went to wuk for white folks. Dey never paid
+me much in cash money, but things was so much cheaper dan now dat you
+could take a little cash and buy lots of things. I wukked a long time
+for a yankee fambly named Palmer dat lived on Oconee Street right below
+de old Michael house, jus' 'fore you go down de hill. Dey had two or
+three chillun and I ain't never gwine to forgit de day dat little Miss
+Eunice was runnin' and playin' in de kitchen and fell 'gainst de hot
+stove. All of us was skeered most to death 'cause it did seem den lak
+her face was plumb ruint, and for days folks was 'most sho' she was
+gwine to die. Atter a long, long time Miss Eunice got well and growed up
+to be a fine school teacher. Some of dem scars still shows on her face.
+
+"Me and Sam Smith got married when I was 17. No Chile, us didn't waste
+no money on a big weddin' but I did have a right pretty weddin' dress.
+It was nice and new and was made out of white silk. My sister was
+a-cookin' for Mrs. White at dat time, and dey had a fine two-room
+kitchen in de back yard set off from de big house. My sister lived in
+one of dem rooms and cooked for de Whites in de other one. Mrs. White
+let us git married in her nice big kitchen and all de white folks come
+out from de big house to see Brother Thomas tie de knot for us. Den me
+and Sam built dis very same house whar you is a-settin', and I done been
+livin' here ever since.
+
+"Us was livin' right here when dey put on dem fust new streetcars.
+Little bitty mules pulled 'em 'long and sometimes dey had a right hard
+time draggin' dem big old cars through mud and bad weather. Now and den
+day got too frisky and run away; dat was when dem cars would rock and
+roll and you wished you could git off and walk. Most of de time dem
+little mules done good and us was jus' crazy 'bout ridin' on de
+streetcars."
+
+When Nancy tired of talking she tactfully remarked: "I spects I better
+git quiet and rest now lak de doctor ordered, but I'm mighty glad you
+come, and I hopes you'll be back again 'fore long. Most folks don't take
+up no time wid old wore-out Negroes. Good-bye, Missy."
+
+
+
+
+PLANTATION LIFE AS VIEWED BY EX-SLAVE
+
+NELLIE SMITH, Age 78
+660 W. 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
+
+September 2, 1938
+
+
+Large pecan trees shaded the small, well-kept yard that led to Nellie
+Smith's five-room frame house. The front porch of her white cottage was
+almost obscured by a white cloud of fragrant clematis in full blossom,
+and the yard was filled with roses and other flowers.
+
+A small mulatto woman sat in the porch swing, a walking stick across her
+lap. Her straight, white hair was done in a prim coil low on the neck,
+and her print dress and white apron were clean and neat. In answer to
+the visitor's inquiry, she smiled and said: "This is Nellie Smith. Won't
+you come in out of the hot sun? I just knows you is plumb tuckered out.
+Walkin' around in this hot weather is goin' to make you sick if you
+don't be mighty careful.
+
+"'Scuse me for not gittin' up. I can't hardly make it by myself since I
+fell and got hurt so bad. My arm was broke and it looks lak my old back
+never will stop hurtin' no more. Our doctor says I'll have to stay
+bandaged up this way two or three weeks longer, but I 'spects that's on
+account of my age. You know old folks' bones don't knit and heal quick
+lak young folks' and, jus' let me tell you, I've done been around here a
+mighty long time. Are you comfortable, Child? Wouldn't you lak to have a
+glass of water? I'll call my daughter; she's back in the kitchen."
+
+Nellie rapped heavily on the floor with her walking stick, and a tall,
+stout, mulatto in a freshly laundered house frock made her appearance.
+"This is my daughter, Amanda," said Nellie, and, addressing her
+off-spring, she continued: "Bring this lady a drink of water. She needs
+it after walkin' 'way out here in this hot sun." Ice tinkled in the
+glass that the smiling Amanda offered as she inquired solicitously if
+there was anything else she could do. Amanda soon went back to her work
+and Nellie began her narrative.
+
+"Lordy, Honey, them days when I was a child, is so far back that I don't
+s'pect I can 'member much 'bout 'em. I does love to talk about them
+times, but there ain't many folks what keers anything 'bout listening to
+us old folks these days. If you don't mind we'll go to my room where
+it'll be more comfortable." Amanda appeared again, helped Nellie to her
+room, and placed her in a large chair with pillows to support the broken
+arm. Amanda laughed happily when she noticed her mother's enthusiasm for
+the opportunity to relate her life story. "Mother likes that," she said,
+"and I'm so glad you asked her to talk about those old times she thinks
+so much about. I'll be right back in the kitchen ironing; if you want
+anything, just call me."
+
+Nellie now began again: "I was born right near where the Coordinate
+College is now; it was the old Weir place then. I don't know nothin'
+'bout my Daddy, but my Mother's name was Harriet Weir, and she was owned
+by Marster Jack Weir. He had a great big old plantation then and the
+homeplace is still standin', but it has been improved and changed so
+much that it don't look lak the same house. As Marse Jack's sons married
+off he give each one of 'em a home and two slaves, but he never did sell
+none of his slaves, and he told them boys they better not never sell
+none neither.
+
+"Slaves slept in log cabins what had rock chimblies at the end. The
+rocks was put together with red clay. All the slaves was fed at the big
+house kitchen. The fireplace, where they done the cookin', was so big it
+went 'most across one end of that big old kitchen. It had long swingin'
+cranes to hang the pots on, and there was so many folks to cook for at
+one time that often there was five or six pots over the fire at the same
+time. Them pots was large too--not lak the little cookin' vessels we use
+these days. For the bakin', they had all sizes of ovens. Now Child, let
+me tell you, that was good eatin'. Folks don't take time enough to cook
+right now; They are always in too big a hurry to be doin' something else
+and don't cook things long enough. Back in dem days they put the
+vegetables on to cook early in the mornin' and biled 'em 'til they was
+good and done. The biggest diffunce I see is that folks didn't git sick
+and stay sick with stomach troubles then half as much as they does now.
+When my grandma took a roast out of one of them old ovens it would be
+brown and juicy, with lots of rich, brown gravy. Sweet potatoes baked
+and browned in the pan with it would taste mighty fine too. With some of
+her good biscuits, that roast meat, brown gravy, and potatoes, you had
+food good enough for anybody. I just wish I could taste some more of it
+one more time before I die.
+
+"Why, Child, two of the best cake-makers I ever knew used them old ovens
+for bakin' the finest kinds of pound cakes and fruit cakes, and evvybody
+knows them cakes was the hardest kinds to bake we had in them days. Aunt
+Betsey Cole was a great cake-baker then. She belonged to the Hulls, what
+lived off down below here somewhere but, when there was to be a big
+weddin' or some 'specially important dinner in Athens, folks 'most
+always sent for Aunt Betsey to bake the cakes. Aunt Laura McCrary was a
+great cake-maker too; she baked the cake for President Taft when he was
+entertained at Mrs. Maggie Welch's home here.
+
+"In them days you didn't have to be runnin' to the store evvy time you
+wanted to cook a extra good meal; folks raised evvything they needed
+right there at home. They had all the kinds of vegetables they knowed
+about then in their own gardens, and there was big fields of corn, rye,
+and wheat. Evvy big plantation raised its own cows for plenty of milk
+and butter, as well as lots of beef cattle, hogs, goats, and sheep.
+'Most all of 'em had droves of chickens, geese, and turkeys, and on our
+place there were lots of peafowls. When it was goin' to rain them old
+peafowls set up a big holler. I never knew rain to fail after them
+peafowls started their racket.
+
+"All our clothes and shoes was home-made, and I mean by that they growed
+the cotton, wool, and cattle and made the cloth and leather on the
+plantation. Summer clothes was made of cotton homespun, and cotton and
+wool was wove together for winter clothin'. Marse Jack owned a man what
+he kept there to do nothin' but make shoes. He had another slave to do
+all the carpenterin' and to make all the coffins for the folks that died
+on the plantation. That same carpenter made 'most all the beds the white
+folks and us slaves slept on. Them old beds--they called 'em
+teesters--had cords for springs; nobody never heard of no metal springs
+them days. They jus' wove them cords criss-cross, from one side to the
+other and from head to foot. When they stretched and sagged they was
+tightened up with keys what was made for that purpose.
+
+"Jus' look at my room," Nellie laughed. "I saw you lookin' at my bed. It
+was made at Wood's Furniture Shop, right here in Athens, and I've had it
+ever since I got married the first time. Take a good look at it, for
+there ain't many lak it left." Nellie's pride in her attractively
+furnished room was evident as she told of many offers she has had for
+this furniture, but she added: "I want to keep it all here to use myself
+jus' as long as I live. Shucks, I done got plumb off from what I was
+tellin' you jus' ravin' 'bout my old furniture and things.
+
+"My Mother died when I was jus' a little girl and she's buried in the
+old family graveyard on the Weir place, but there are several other
+slaves buried there and I don't know which grave is hers. Grandma raised
+me, and I was jus' gittin' big enough to handle that old peafowl-tail
+fly brush they used to keep the flies off the table when we were set
+free.
+
+"It wasn't long after the War when the Yankees come to Athens. Folks had
+to bury or hide evvything they could, for them Yankees jus' took
+anything they could git their hands on, 'specially good food. They would
+catch up other folks' chickens and take hams from the smokehouses, and
+they jus' laughed in folks' faces if they said anything 'bout it. They
+camped in the woods here on Hancock Avenue, but of course it wasn't
+settled then lak it is now. I was mighty scared of them Yankees and they
+didn't lak me neither. One of 'em called me a little white-headed devil.
+
+"One of my aunts worked for a northern lady that they called Mrs.
+Meeker, who lived where the old Barrow home is now. Evvy summer when she
+went back up North she would leave my aunt and uncle to take care of her
+place. It was right close to the Yankees' camp, and the soldiers made my
+aunt cook for them sometimes. I was livin' with her then, and I was so
+scared of 'em that I stayed right by her. She never had to worry 'bout
+where I was them days, for I was right by her side as long as the
+Yankees was hangin' 'round Athens. My uncle used to say that he had seen
+them Yankees ride to places and shoot down turkeys, then make the folks
+that owned them turkeys cook and serve 'em. Folks used to talk lots
+'bout the Yankees stoppin' a white 'oman on the street and takin' her
+earrings right out of her ears to put 'em on a Negro 'oman; I never saw
+that, I jus' heard it.
+
+"After the war was over Grandpa bought one of the old slave cabins from
+Marse Jack and we lived there for a long time; then we moved out to Rock
+Spring. I was about eight or nine years old then, and they found out I
+was a regular tomboy. The woods was all 'round Rock Spring then, and I
+did have a big time climbin' them trees. I jus' fairly lived in 'em
+durin' the daytime, but when dark come I wanted to be as close to
+Grandpa as I could git.
+
+"One time, durin' those days at Rock Spring, I wanted to go to a Fourth
+of July celebration. Those celebrations was mighty rough them days and
+Grandpa didn't think that would be a good place for a decent little
+girl, so he didn't want me to go. I cried and hollered and cut up
+something awful. Grandma told him to give me a good thrashin' but
+Grandpa didn't lak to do that, so he promised me I could go to ride if I
+wouldn't go to that celebration. That jus' tickled me to death, for I
+did lak to ride. Grandpa had two young mules what was still wild, and
+when he said I could ride one of 'em Grandma tried hard to keep me off
+of it, for she said that critter would be sure to kill me, but I was so
+crazy to go that nobody couldn't tell me nothin'. Auntie lent me her
+domino coat to wear for a ridin' habit and I sneaked and slipped a pair
+of spurs, then Grandpa put a saddle on the critter and helped me to git
+up on him. I used them spurs, and then I really went to ride. That mule
+showed his heels straight through them woods and way on out in the
+country. I couldn't stop him, so I jus' kept on kickin' him with them
+spurs and didn't have sense to know that was what was makin' him run. I
+thought them spurs was to make him mind me, and all the time I was I
+lammin' him with the spurs I was hollerin': 'Stop! Oh, Stop!' When I got
+to where I was too scared to kick him with the spurs or do nothin' 'cept
+hang on to that saddle, that young mule quit his runnin' and trotted
+home as nice and peaceable as you please. I never did have no more use
+for spurs.
+
+"Grandpa used to send me to Phinizy's mill to have corn and wheat
+ground. It would take all day long, so they let me take a lunch with me,
+and I always had the best sort of time when I went to mill. Uncle Isham
+run the mill then and he would let me think I was helpin' him. Then,
+while he helped me eat my lunch, he would call me his little 'tomboy
+gal' and would tell me about the things he used to do when he was 'bout
+my age.
+
+"My first schoolin' was in old Pierce's Chapel that set right spang in
+the middle of Hancock Avenue at Foundry Street. Our teacher was a Yankee
+man, and we were mighty surprised to find out that he wasn't very hard
+on us. We had to do something real bad to git a whippin', but when we
+talked or was late gittin' to school we had to stand up in the back of
+the schoolroom and hold up one hand. Pierce's chapel was where the
+colored folks had preachin' then--preachin' on Sunday and teachin' on
+week days, all in the same buildin'. A long time before then it had been
+the white folks' church, and Preacher Pierce was the first one to preach
+there after it was built, so they named it for him. When the white folks
+built them a new church they gave the old chapel to the colored folks,
+and, Honey, there was some real preachin' done in that old place. Me, I
+was a Methodist, but I was baptized just lak the Baptists was down there
+in the Oconee River.
+
+"Me and my first husband was too young to know what we was doin' when we
+got married, but our folks give us a grand big weddin'. I think my
+weddin' cake was 'bout the biggest one I ever saw baked in one of them
+old ovens in the open fireplace. They iced it in white and decorated it
+with grapes. A shoat was cooked whole and brought to the table with a
+big red apple in his mouth. You know a shoat ain't nothin' but a young
+hog that's done got bigger than a little pig. We had chicken and pies
+and just evvything good that went to make up a fine weddin' supper.
+
+"Our weddin' took place at night, and I wore a white dress made with a
+tight-fittin' waist and a long, full skirt that was jus' covered with
+ruffles. My sleeves was tight at the wrists but puffed at the shoulders,
+and my long veil of white net was fastened to my head with pretty
+flowers. I was a mighty dressed up bride. The bridegroom wore a real
+dark-colored cutaway coat with a white vest. We did have a swell weddin'
+and supper, but there wasn't no dancin' 'cause we was all good church
+folks.
+
+"We was so young we jus' started out havin' a good time and didn't miss
+nothin' that meant fun and frolic. We was mighty much in love with each
+other too. It didn't seem long before we had three children, and then
+one night he was taken sick all of a sudden and didn't live but a little
+while. Soon as he was taken sick I sent for the doctor, but my husband
+told me then he was dyin' fast and that he wasn't ready to die. He said:
+'Nellie, here we is with these three little children and neither one of
+us had been fit to raise 'em. Now I've got to leave you and you will
+have to raise one of 'em, but the other two will come right on after
+me.'"
+
+For several moments Nellie was still and quiet; then she raised her head
+and said: "Honey, it was jus' lak he said it would be. He was gone in
+jus' a little while and it wasn't two weeks 'fore the two youngest
+children was gone lak their daddy. I worried lots after my husband and
+babies was taken. I wanted to be saved to raise my little girl right,
+and I was too proud to let anybody know how troubled I was or what it
+was all about, so I kept it to myself. I lost weight, I couldn't sleep,
+and was jus' dyin' away with sin. I would go to church but that didn't
+git me no relief.
+
+"One day a dear, good white lady sent for me to come to the hotel where
+she was stayin'. She had been a mighty good friend to me for a long,
+long time, and I had all the faith in the world in her. She told me that
+she had a good job for me and wanted me to take it because it would let
+me keep my little girl with me. She said her best friend's maid had died
+and this friend of hers needed someone to work for her. 'I want you to
+go there and work for her,' said the white lady, 'for she will be good
+to you and your child. I've already talked with her about it.'
+
+"I took her advice and went to work for Mrs. R.L. Bloomfield whose
+husband operated the old check mill. Honey, Mrs. Bloomfield was one of
+God's children and one of the best folks I have ever known. Right away
+she told her cook: 'Amanda, look after Nellie good 'cause she's too
+thin.' It wasn't long before Mrs. Bloomfield handed me a note and told
+me to take it to Dr. Carlton. When he read it he laughed and said; 'Come
+on Nellie, I've got to see what's wrong with you.' I tried to tell him I
+wasn't sick, but he examined me all over, then called to see Mrs.
+Bloomfield and told her that I didn't need nothin' but plenty of rest
+and to eat enough good food. Bless her dear old heart, she done
+evvything she could for me, but there wasn't no medicine, rest, or food
+that could help the trouble that was wearin' me down then.
+
+"Soon they started a revival at our church. One night I wanted to go,
+but Aunt Amanda begged me not to, for she said I needed to go to bed and
+rest; later she said she would go along with me to hear that preachin'.
+Honey, I never will forgit that night. The text of the sermon was: 'Come
+unto me all you weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' When
+they began callin' the mourners to come up to the mourners' bench
+something seemed to be jus' a-pullin' me in that direction, but I was
+too proud to go. I didn't think then I ever could go to no mourners'
+bench or shout. After a while they started singin' _Almost Persuaded_,
+and I couldn't wait; I jus' got up and run to that blessed mourners'
+bench and I prayed there. Honey, I shouted too, for I found the Blessed
+Lord that very night and I've kept Him right with me ever since. I don't
+aim to lose Him no more. Aunt Amanda was most nigh happy as I was and,
+from that night when the burden was lifted from my heart, I begun
+gittin' better.
+
+"I worked on for Mrs. Bloomfield 'til I got married again, and then I
+quit work 'cept for nursin' sick folks now and then. I made good money
+nursin' and kept that up 'til I got too old to work outside my own
+family.
+
+"My second husband was Scott Smith. We didn't have no big, fancy weddin'
+for I had done been married and had all the trimmin's one time. We jus'
+had a nice quiet weddin' with a few close friends and kinfolks invited.
+I had on a very pretty, plain, white dress. Again I was blessed with a
+good husband. Scott fixed up that nice mantelpiece you see in this room
+for me, and he was mighty handy about the house; he loved to keep things
+repaired and in order. Best of all, he was jus' as good to my little
+girl as he was to the girl and boy that were born to us later. All three
+of my children are grown and married now, and they are mighty good to
+their old mother. One of my daughters lives in New York.
+
+"Soon after we married, we moved in a big old house called the old White
+place that was jus' around the corner from here on Pope Street. People
+said it was haunted, and we could hear something walkin' up and down the
+stairs that sounded lak folks. To keep 'em from bein' so scared, I used
+to try to make the others believe it was jus' our big Newfoundland dog,
+but one night my sister heard it. She got up and found the dog lyin'
+sound asleep on the front porch, so it was up to me to find out what it
+was. I walked up the stairs without seein' a thing, but, Honey, when I
+put my foot on that top step such a feelin' come over me as I had never
+had before in all my life. My body trembled 'til I had to hold tight to
+the stair-rail to keep from fallin', and I felt the hair risin' up all
+over my head. While it seemed like hours before I was able to move, it
+was really only a very few seconds. I went down those stairs in a hurry
+and, from that night to this day, I have never hunted ghosts no more and
+I don't aim to do it again, never.
+
+"I've been here a long time, Honey. When them first street lights was
+put up and lit, Athens was still mostly woods. Them old street lights
+would be funny to you now, but they was great things to us then, even if
+they wasn't nothin' but little lanterns what burned plain old lamp-oil
+hung out on posts. The Old Town Hall was standin' then right in the
+middle of Market (Washington) Street, between Lumpkin and Pulaski
+Streets. The lowest floor was the jail, and part of the ground floor was
+the old market place. Upstairs was the big hall where they held court,
+and that was where they had so many fine shows. Whenever any white folks
+had a big speech to make they went to that big old room upstairs in Town
+Hall and spoke it to the crowd.
+
+"You is too young to remember them first streetcars what was pulled by
+little bitsy Texas mules with bells around their necks. Hearing them
+bells was sweet music to us when they meant we was goin' to git a ride
+on them streetcars. Some folks was too precise to say 'streetcars'; they
+said 'horsecars', but them horsecars was pulled through the streets by
+mules, so what's the diffunce? Sometimes them little mules would mire up
+so deep in the mud they would have to be pulled out, and sometimes, when
+they was feelin' sassy and good, they would jus' up and run away with
+them streetcars. Them little critters could git the worst tangled up in
+them lines." Here Nellie laughed heartily. "Sometimes they would even
+try to climb inside the cars. It was lots of fun ridin' them cars, for
+you never did know what was goin' to happen before you got back home,
+but I never heard of no real bad streetcar accidents here."
+
+Nellie now began jumping erratically from one subject to another. "Did
+you notice my pretty flowers and ferns on the front porch?" she asked.
+"I jus' know you didn't guess what I made them two hangin' baskets out
+of. Them's the helmets that my son and my son-in-law wore when they was
+fightin' in the World War. I puts my nicest flowers in 'em evvy year as
+a sort of memorial to the ones that didn't git to fetch their helmets
+back home. Yes Mam, I had two stars on my service flag and, while I
+hated mighty bad that there had to be war, I wanted my family to do
+their part.
+
+"Honey, old Nellie is gittin' a little tired, but jus' you listen to
+this: I went to meetin' one night to hear the first 'oman preacher that
+ever had held a meetin' in this town. She was meanin' to preach at a
+place out on Rock Spring Street, and there was more folks there than
+could git inside that little old weather-boarded house. The place was
+packed and jammed, but me and Scott managed to git in. When I saw an old
+Hardshell Baptist friend of mine in there, I asked her how come she was
+at this kind of meetin'. 'Curiosity, my child,' she said, 'jus' plain
+old curiosity.' The 'oman got up to preach and, out of pure devilment,
+somebody on the outside hollered; 'The house is fallin' down.' Now
+Child, I know it ain't right to laugh at preachin's of any sort, but
+that was one funny scene. Evvybody was tryin' to git out at one time;
+such cryin', prayin', and testifyin' to the Lord I ain't never heard
+before. The crowd jus' went plumb crazy with fright. I was pushed down
+and trampled over in the rush before Scott could git me out; they mighty
+near killed me." The old woman stopped and laughed until the tears
+streamed down her face. "You know, Honey," she said, when she could
+control her voice sufficiently to resume her story, "Niggers ain't got
+no sense at all when they gits scared. When they throwed one gal out of
+a window, she called out: 'Thank you, Lord,' for the poor thing thought
+the Lord was savin' her from a fallin' buildin'. Poor old Martha
+Holbrook,"--The sentence was not finished until Nellie's almost
+hysterical giggles had attracted her daughter who came to see if
+something was wrong--"Martha Holbrook," Nellie repeated, "was climbin'
+backwards out of a window and her clothes got fastened on a nail. She
+slipped on down and there she was with her legs kickin' around on the
+outside and the rest of her muffled up in her clothes. It looked lak her
+clothes was jus' goin' to peel off over her head. It took the menfolks a
+long time to git her uncaught and out of that predicament in the window.
+Pretty soon the folks began to come to their senses and they found there
+wasn't nothin' wrong with the house 'cept that some doors and windows
+had been torn out by the crowd. They sho did git mad, but nobody seemed
+to know who started that ruction. My old Hardshell Baptist friend came
+up then and said: 'Curiosity brought us here, and curiosity like to have
+killed the cat.'"
+
+Seeing that Nellie was tired, the visitor prepared to leave. "Goodbye
+and God bless you," were the old woman's farewell words. At the front
+door Amanda said: "I haven't heard my Mother laugh that way in a long,
+long time, and I jus' know she is goin' to feel more cheerful after
+this. Thank you for givin' her this pleasure, and I hope you can come
+back again."
+
+
+
+
+EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
+with
+PAUL SMITH, Age 74
+429 China Street
+Athens, Georgia
+
+Written by:
+Miss Grace McCune
+Athens
+
+Edited by:
+Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
+Athens
+
+Mrs. Leila Harris
+Augusta
+
+and
+John N. Booth
+District Supervisor
+Federal Writers' Project
+Residencies 6 & 7
+Augusta, Georgia
+
+
+Paul Smith's house stands on China Street, a narrow rutted alley
+deriving its name from the large chinaberry tree that stands at one end
+of the alley.
+
+Large water oaks furnish ample shade for the tidy yard where an old
+well, whose bucket hanging from a rickety windlass frame, was supplying
+water for two Negro women, who were leaning over washtubs. As they
+rubbed the clothes against the washboards, their arms kept time to the
+chant of _Lord I'se Comin' Home_. Paul and two Negro men, barefooted and
+dressed in overalls rolled to their knees, were taking their ease under
+the largest tree, and two small mulatto children were frolicking about
+with a kitten.
+
+As the visitor approached, the young men leaped to their feet and
+hastened to offer a chair and Paul said: "Howdy-do, Missy, how is you?
+Won't you have a cheer and rest? I knows you is tired plumb out. Dis old
+sun is too hot for folkses to be walkin' 'round out doors," Turning to
+one of the boys he continued: "Son, run and fetch Missy some fresh
+water; dat'll make her feel better. Jus' how far is you done walked?"
+asked Paul. Then he stopped one of the women from the washing and bade
+her "run into the house and fetch a fan for Missy."
+
+Paul is a large man, and a fringe of kinky white hair frames his face.
+His manner is very friendly for, noticing that the visitor was looking
+with some curiosity at the leather bands that encircled his wrists, the
+old man grinned. "Dem's jus' to make sho' dat I won't have no
+rheumatiz," he declared. "Mind if I cuts me a chaw of 'baccy? I'se jus'
+plumb lost widout no 'baccy."
+
+Paul readily agreed to give the story of his life. "I can't git over it,
+dat you done walked way out here from de courthouse jus' to listen to
+dis old Nigger talk 'bout dem good old days.
+
+"Mammy belonged to Marse Jack Ellis, and he owned de big old Ellis
+Plantation in Oglethorpe County whar I was borned. Marse Jack give mammy
+to his daughter, young Miss Matt, and when her and Marse Nunnally got
+married up, she tuk my mammy 'long wid her. Mistess Hah'iet (Harriet)
+Smith owned my daddy. Him and mammy never did git married. My granddaddy
+and grandmammy was owned by Marse Jim Stroud of Oconee County, and I dug
+de graves whar bofe of 'em's buried in Mars Hill graveyard.
+
+"All I knows 'bout slavery time is what I heared folkses say, for de war
+was most over when I was borned, but things hadn't changed much, as I
+was raised up.
+
+"I warn't but 'bout 2 years old when young Miss Matt tuk my mammy off,
+and she put me out 'cause she didn't want me. Missy, dey was sho good to
+me. Marse Jack's wife was Mistess Lizzie. She done her best to raise me
+right, and de ways she larnt me is done stayed wid me all dese years;
+many's de time dey's kept old Paul out of trouble. No Mam, I ain't never
+been in no jailhouse in all my days, and I sho ain't aimin' to de
+nothin' to make 'em put me dar now.
+
+"In dem days, when chillun got big enough to eat, dey was kept at de big
+house, 'cause deir mammies had to wuk off in de fields and Old Miss
+wanted all de chillun whar she could see atter 'em. Most times dere was
+a old slave 'oman what didn't have nothin' else to do 'cept take keer of
+slave chillun and feed 'em. Pickaninnies sho had to mind too, 'cause dem
+old 'omans would evermore lay on de switch. Us et out of wooden trays,
+and for supper us warn't 'lowed nothin' but bread and milk.
+
+"Long as us was little, us didn't have to wuk at nothin' 'cept little
+jobs lak pickin' up chips, bringin' in a little wood, and sometimes de
+biggest boys had to slop de hogs. Long 'bout de fust of March, dey tuk
+de pants 'way from all de boys and give 'em little shirts to wear from
+den 'til frost. Yes Mam, dem shirts was all us boys had to wear in
+summer 'til us was big enough to wuk in de fields. Gals jus' wore one
+piece of clothes in summertime too; dey wore a plain cotton dress. All
+our clothes, for summer and winter too, was made right dere on dat
+plantation. Dey wove de cloth on de looms; plain cotton for summer, and
+cotton mixed wid a little wool for winter. Dere was a man on de
+plantation what made all our brogans for winter. Marster made sho us had
+plenty of good warm clothes and shoes to keep us warm when winter come.
+
+"Folkses raised deir livin', all of it, at home den. Dey growed all
+sorts of gyarden truck sech as corn, peas, beans, sallet, 'taters,
+collards, ingons, and squashes. Dey had big fields of grain. Don't
+forgit dem good old watermillions; Niggers couldn't do widout 'em.
+Marster's old smokehouse was plumb full of meat all de time, and he had
+more cows, hogs, sheep, goats, chickens, turkeys, geese, and de lak, dan
+I ever larnt how to count. Dere warn't no runnin' off to de sto' evvy
+time dey started cookin' a company meal.
+
+"Dem home-made cotton gins was mighty slow. Us never seed no fast
+sto'-bought gins dem days. Our old gins was turned by a long pole what
+was pulled around by mules and oxen, and it tuk a long time to git de
+seeds out of de cotton dat way. I'se seed 'em tie bundles of fodder in
+front of de critters so dey would go faster tryin' to git to de fodder.
+Dey grez dem gins wid homemade tar. De big sight was dem old home-made
+cotton presses. When dem old mules went round a time or two pullin' dat
+heavy weight down, dat cotton was sho pressed.
+
+"Us chillun sho did lak to see 'em run dat old gin, 'cause 'fore dey
+ever had a gin Marster used to make us pick a shoe-full of cotton seeds
+out evvy night 'fore us went to bed. Now dat don't sound so bad, Missy,
+but did you ever try to pick any seeds out of cotton?
+
+"Course evvybody cooked on open fireplaces dem days, and dat was whar us
+picked out dem cotton seeds, 'round dat big old fireplace in de kitchen.
+All de slaves et together up dar at de big house, and us had some mighty
+good times in dat old kitchen. Slave quarters was jus' little one room
+log cabins what had chimblies made of sticks and red mud. Dem old
+chimblies was all de time a-ketchin' on fire. De mud was daubed 'twixt
+de logs to chink up de cracks, and sometimes dey chinked up cracks in de
+roof wid red mud. Dere warn't no glass windows in dem cabins, and dey
+didn't have but one window of no sort; it was jus' a plain wooden
+shutter. De cabins was a long ways off from de big house, close by de
+big old spring whar de wash-place was. Dey had long benches for de
+wash-tubs to set on, a big old oversize washpot, and you mustn't leave
+out 'bout dat big old battlin' block whar dey beat de dirt out of de
+clothes. Dem Niggers would sing, and deir battlin' sticks kept time to
+de music. You could hear de singin' and de sound of de battlin' sticks
+from a mighty long ways off.
+
+"I ain't never been to school a day in all my life. My time as chillun
+was all tuk up nussin' Mistess' little chillun, and I sho didn't never
+git nary a lick 'bout dem chillun. Mistess said dat a white 'oman got
+atter her one time 'bout lettin' a little Nigger look atter her chillun,
+and dat 'oman got herself told. I ain't never uneasy 'bout my chillun
+when Paul is wid 'em,' Mistess said. When dey started to school, it was
+my job to see dat dey got dere and when school was out in de evenin', I
+had to be dere to fetch dem chillun back home safe and sound. School
+didn't turn out 'til four o'clock den, and it was a right fur piece from
+dat schoolhouse out to our big house. Us had to cross a crick, and when
+it rained de water would back up and make it mighty bad to git from one
+side to t'other. Marster kept a buggy jus' for us to use gwine back and
+forth to school. One time atter it had done been rainin' for days, dat
+crick was so high I was 'fraid to try to take Mistess' chillun crost it
+by myself, so I got a man named Blue to do de drivin' so I could look
+atter de chillun. Us pulled up safe on de other side and den dere warn't
+no way to git him back to his own side. I told him to ride back in de
+buggy, den tie de lines, and de old mule would come straight back to us
+by hisself. Blue laughed and said dere warn't no mule wid dat much
+sense, but he soon seed dat I was right, cause dat old mule come right
+on back jus' lak I said he would.
+
+"Us chillun had good times back den, yes Mam, us sho did. Some of our
+best times was at de old swimmin' hole. De place whar us dammed up de
+crick for our swimmin' hole was a right smart piece off from de big
+house. Us picked dat place 'cause it had so many big trees to keep de
+water shady and cool. One Sunday, when dere was a big crowd of white and
+colored chillun havin' a big time splashin' 'round in de water, a white
+man what lived close by tuk all our clothes and hid 'em way up at his
+house; den he got up in a tree and hollered lak evvything was atter him.
+Lawsy, Miss, us chillun all come out of dat crick skeered plumb stiff
+and run for our clothes. Dey was all gone, but dat never stopped us for
+long. Us lit out straight for dat man's house. He had done beat us
+gitting dar, and when us come runnin' up widout no clothes on, he
+laughed fit to kill at us. Atter while he told us he skeered us to keep
+us from stayin' too long in de crick and gittin' drownded, but dat
+didn't slow us up none 'bout playing in de swimmin' hole.
+
+"Talkin' 'bout being skeered, dere was one time I was skeered I was
+plumb ruint. Missy, dat was de time I stole somepin' and didn't even
+know I was stealin'. A boy had come by our place dat day and axed me to
+go to de shop on a neighbor's place wid him. Mistess 'lowed me to go,
+and atter he had done got what he said he was sont atter, he said dat
+now us would git us some apples. He was lots bigger dan me, and I jus'
+s'posed his old marster had done told him he could git some apples out
+of dat big old orchard. Missy, I jus' plumb filled my shirt and pockets
+wid dem fine apples, and us was havin' de finest sort of time when de
+overseer cotch us. He let me go, but dat big boy had to wuk seven long
+months to pay for dat piece of foolishment. I sho didn't never go nowhar
+else wid dat fellow, 'cause my good old mistess said he would git me in
+a peck of trouble if I did, and I had done larn't dat our mistess was
+allus right.
+
+"Times has sho done changed lots since dem days; chillun warn't 'lowed
+to run 'round den. When I went off to church on a Sunday, I knowed I had
+to be back home not no later dan four o'clock. Now chillun jus' goes all
+de time, whar-some-ever dey wants to go. Dey stays out most all night
+sometimes, and deir mammies don't never know whar dey is half de time.
+'Tain't right, Missy, folkses don't raise deir chillun right no more;
+dey don't larn 'em to be 'bejient and don't go wid 'em to church to hear
+de Word of de Lawd preached lak dey should ought to.
+
+"Fore de war, colored folkses went to de same church wid deir white
+folkses and listened to de white preacher. Slaves sot way back in de
+meetin'-house or up in a gallery, but us could hear dem good old
+sermons, and dem days dey preached some mighty powerful ones. All my
+folkses jined de Baptist Church, and Dr. John Mell's father, Dr. Pat
+Mell, baptized evvy one of 'em. Course I growed up to be a Baptist too
+lak our own white folkses.
+
+"Slaves had to wuk hard dem days, but dey had good times too. Our white
+folkses looked atter us and seed dat us had what-some-ever us needed.
+When talk come 'round 'bout havin' separate churches for slaves, our
+white folkses give us deir old meetin'-house and built deyselfs a new
+one, but for a long time atter dat it warn't nothin' to see white
+folkses visitin' our meetin's, cause dey wanted to help us git started
+off right. One old white lady--us called her Aunty Peggy--never did stop
+comin' to pray and sing and shout wid us 'til she jus' went off to sleep
+and woke up in de better world. Dat sho was one good 'oman.
+
+"Some of dem slaves never wanted no 'ligion, and dey jus' laughed at us
+cause us testified and shouted. One day at church a good old 'oman got
+right 'hind a Nigger dat she had done made up her mind she was gwine to
+see saved 'fore dat meetin' ended. She drug 'im up to de mourner's
+bench. He 'lowed he never made no prep'ration to come in dis world and
+dat he didn't mean to make none to leave it. She prayed and prayed, but
+dat fool Nigger jus' laughed right out at her. Finally de 'oman got mad.
+'Laugh if you will,' she told dat man, 'De Good Lawd is gwine to purge
+out your sins for sho, and when you gits full of biles and sores you'll
+be powerful glad to git somebody to pray for you. Dat ain't all; de same
+Good Lawd is gwine to lick you a thousand lashes for evvy time you is
+done made fun of dis very meetin'.' Missy, would you believe it, it
+warn't no time 'fore dat man sickened and died right out wid a cancer in
+his mouf. Does you 'member dat old sayin' 'De ways of de Lawd is slow
+but sho?'
+
+"Corpses was washed good soon atter de folkses died and deir clothes put
+on 'em, den dey was laid on coolin' boards 'til deir coffins was made
+up. Why Missy, didn't you know dey didn't have no sto'-bought coffins
+dem days? Dey made 'em up right dere on de plantation. De corpse was
+measured and de coffin made to fit it. Sometimes dey was lined wid black
+calico, and sometimes dey painted 'em black on de outside. Dere warn't
+no undytakers den, and dere warn't none of dem vaults to set coffins in
+neither; dey jus' laid planks crost de top of a coffin 'fore de dirt was
+piled in de grave.
+
+"When dere was a death 'round our neighborhood, evvybody went and paid
+deir 'spects to de fambly of de dead. Folkses set up all night wid de
+corpse and sung and prayed. Dat settin' up was mostly to keep cats offen
+de corpse. Cats sho is bad atter dead folks; I'se heared tell dat dey
+most et up some corpses what nobody warn't watchin'. When de time come
+to bury de dead, dey loaded de coffin on to a wagon, and most times de
+fambly rode to de graveyard in a wagon too, but if it warn't no fur
+piece off, most of de other folkses walked. Dey started singin' when dey
+left de house and sung right on 'til dat corpse was put in de grave.
+When de preacher had done said a prayer, dey all sung: _I'se Born to Die
+and Lay Dis Body Down_. Dat was 'bout all dere was to de buryin', but
+later on dey had de funeral sermon preached in church, maybe six months
+atter de buryin'. De white folkses had all deir funeral sermons preached
+at de time of de buryin'.
+
+"Yes Mam, I 'members de fust money I ever wuked for. Marster paid me 50
+cents a day when I got big enough to wuk, and dat was plumb good wages
+den. When I got to whar I could pick more'n a hunnerd pounds of cotton
+in one day he paid me more. I thought I was rich den. Dem was good old
+days when us lived back on de plantation. I 'members dem old folkses
+what used to live 'round Lexin'ton, down in Oglethorpe County.
+
+"When us warn't out in de fields, us done little jobs 'round de big
+house, de cabins, barns, and yards. Us used to holp de older slaves git
+out whiteoak splits, and dey larnt us to make cheer bottoms and baskets
+out of dem splits. De best cheer bottoms what lasted de longest was dem
+what us made wid red ellum withes. Dem old shuck bottoms was fine too;
+dey plaited dem shucks and wound 'em 'round for cheer bottoms and
+footsmats. De 'omans made nice hats out of shucks and wheat straw. Dey
+plaited de shucks and put 'em together wid plaits of wheat straw. Dey
+warn't counted much for Sunday wear, but dey made fine sun hats.
+
+"Whilst us was all a-wukin' away at house and yard jobs, de old folkses
+would tell us 'bout times 'fore us was borned. Dey said slave dealers
+used to come 'round wid a big long line of slaves a-marchin' to whar
+dere was gwine to be a big slave sale. Sometimes dey marched 'em here
+from as fur as Virginny. Old folkses said dey had done been fetched to
+dis country on boats. Dem boats was painted red, real bright red, and
+dey went plumb to Africa to git de niggers. When dey got dere, dey got
+off and left de bright red boats empty for a while. Niggers laks red,
+and dey would git on dem boats to see what dem red things was. When de
+boats was full of dem foolish Niggers, de slave dealers would sail off
+wid 'em and fetch 'em to dis country to sell 'em to folkses what had
+plantations. Dem slave sales was awful bad in some ways, 'cause
+sometimes dey sold mammies away from deir babies and famblies got
+scattered. Some of 'em never knowed what 'comed of deir brudders and
+sisters and daddies and mammies.
+
+"I seed dem Yankees when dey come, but I was too little to know much
+about what dey done. Old folkses said dey give de Athens people smallpox
+and dat dey died out right and left, jus' lots of 'em. 'Fore dey got rid
+of it, dey had to burn up beds and clothes and a few houses. Dey said
+dey put Lake Brown and Clarence Bush out in de swamp to die, but dey got
+well, come out of dat swamp, and lived here for years and years.
+
+"Granddaddy told us 'bout how some slaves used to rum off from deir
+marsters and live in caves and dugouts. He said a man and a 'oman run
+away and lived for years in one of dem places not no great ways from de
+slave quarters on his marster's place. Atter a long, long time, some
+little white chillun was playin' in de woods one day and clumb up in
+some trees. Lookin' out from high up in a tree one of 'em seed two
+little pickaninnies but he couldn't find whar dey went. When he went
+back home and told 'bout it, evvybody went to huntin' 'em, s'posin' dey
+was lost chillun. Dey traced 'em to a dugout, and dere dey found dem two
+grown slaves what had done run away years ago, and dey had done had two
+little chillun born in dat dugout. Deir marster come and got 'em and tuk
+'em home, but de chillun went plumb blind when dey tried to live out in
+de sunlight. Dey had done lived under ground too long, and it warn't
+long 'fore bofe of dem chillun was daid.
+
+"Dem old slavery-time weddin's warn't lak de way folkses does when dey
+gits married up now; dey never had to buy no license den. When a slave
+man wanted to git married up wid a gal he axed his marster, and if it
+was all right wid de marster den him and de gal come up to de big house
+to jump de broomstick 'fore deir white folkses. De gal jumped one way
+and de man de other. Most times dere was a big dance de night dey got
+married.
+
+"If a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal what didn't live on dat
+same plantation he told his marster, den his marster went and talked to
+de gal's marster. If bofe deir marsters 'greed den dey jumped de
+broomstick; if neither one of de marsters wouldn't sell to de other one,
+de wife jus' stayed on her marster's place and de husband was 'lowed a
+pass what let him visit her twict a week on Wednesday and Sadday nights.
+If he didn't keep dat pass to show when de patterollers cotch him, dey
+was more'n apt to beat de skin right off his back. Dem patterollers was
+allus watchin' and dey was awful rough. No Mam, dey never did git to
+beat me up. I out run 'em one time, but I evermore did have to make
+tracks to keep ahead of 'em.
+
+"Us didn't know much 'bout folkses bein' kilt 'round whar us stayed.
+Sometimes dere was talk 'bout devilment a long ways off. De mostest
+troubles us knowed 'bout was on de Jim Smith plantation. Dat sho was a
+big old place wid a heap of slaves on it. Dey says dat fightin' didn't
+'mount to nothin'. Marse Jim Smith got to be mighty rich and he lived to
+be an old man. He died out widout never gittin' married. Folkses said a
+nigger boy dat was his son was willed heaps of dat propity, but folkses
+beat him out of it and, all of a sudden, he drapped out of sight. Some
+says he was kilt, but I don't know nothin' 'bout dat.
+
+"Now Missy, how come you wants to know 'bout dem frolics us had dem
+days? Most of 'em ended up scandlous, plumb scandlous. At harvest season
+dere was cornshuckin's, wheat-thrashin's, syrup-cookin's, and
+logrollin's. All dem frolics come in deir own good time. Cornshuckin's
+was de most fun of 'em all. Evvybody come from miles around to dem
+frolics. Soon atter de wuk got started, marster got out his little brown
+jug, and when it started gwine de rounds de wuk would speed up wid sich
+singin' as you never heared, and dem Niggers was wuking in time wid de
+music. Evvy red ear of corn meant an extra swig of liquor for de Nigger
+what found it. When de wuk was done and dey was ready to go to de tables
+out in de yard to eat dem big barbecue suppers, dey grabbed up deir
+marster and tuk him to de big house on deir shoulders. When de supper
+was et, de liquor was passed some more and dancin' started, and
+sometimes it lasted all night. Folkses sometimes had frolics what dey
+called fairs; dey lasted two or three days. Wid so much dancin', eatin',
+and liquor drinkin' gwine on for dat long, lots of fightin' took place.
+It was awful. Dey cut on one another wid razors and knives jus' lak dey
+was cuttin' on wood. I 'spects I was bad as de rest of 'em 'bout dem
+razor fights, but not whar my good old mist'ess could larn 'bout it. I
+never did no fightin' 'round de meetin'-house. It was plumb sinful de
+way some of dem Niggers would git in ruckuses right in meetin' and break
+up de services.
+
+"Brudder Bradberry used to come to our house to hold prayermeetin's, but
+Lawsey, Missy, dat man could eat more dan any Nigger I ever seed from
+dat day to dis. When us knowed he was a-comin' Mistess let us cook up
+heaps of stuff, enough to fill dat long old table plumb full, but dat
+table was allus empty when he left. Yes Mam, he prayed whilst he was
+dere, but he et too. Dem prayers must'a made him mighty weak.
+
+"Marster Joe Campbell, what lived in our settlement, was sho a queer
+man. He had a good farm and plenty of most evvything. He would plant his
+craps evvy year and den, Missy, he would go plumb crazy evvy blessed
+year. Folkses would jine in and wuk his craps out for him and, come
+harvest time, dey had to gather 'em in his barns, cause he never paid
+'em no mind atter dey was planted. When de wuk was all done for him,
+Marster Joe's mind allus come back and he was all right 'til next
+crap-time. I told my good old marster dat white man warn't no ways
+crazy; he had plumb good sense, gittin' all dat wuk done whilst he jus'
+rested. Marster was a mighty good man, so he jus' grinned and said
+'Paul, us mustn't jedge nobody.'
+
+"When marster moved here to Athens I come right 'long wid 'im. Us
+started us a wuk-shop down on dis same old Oconee River, close by whar
+Oconee Street is now. Dis was mostly jus' woods. Dere warn't none of
+dese new-fangled stock laws den, and folkses jus' fenced in deir
+gyardens and let de stock run evvywhar. Dey marked hogs so evvybody
+would know his own; some cut notches in de ears, some cut off de tails
+or marked noses, and some put marks on de hoof part of de foots. Mr.
+Barrow owned 'bout 20 acres in woods spread over Oconee Hill, and de
+hogs made for dem woods whar dey jus' run wild. Cows run out too and got
+so wild dey would fight when dey didn't want to come home. It warn't no
+extra sight den to see folkses gwine atter deir cows on mules. Chickens
+run out, and folkses had a time findin' de aigs and knowin' who dem aigs
+b'longed to. Most and gen'ally finders was keepers far as aigs was
+consarnt but, in spite of all dat, us allus had plenty, and Mistess
+would find somepin' to give folkses dat needed to be holped.
+
+"When us come to Athens de old Georgy Railroad hadn't never crost de
+river to come into town. De depot was on de east side of de river on
+what dey called Depot Street. Daddy said he holped to build dat fust
+railroad. It was way back in slavery times. Mist'ess Hah'iet Smith's
+husband had done died out, and de 'minstrator of de 'state hired out
+most all of Mist'ess' slaves to wuk on de railroad. It was a long time
+'fore she could git 'em back home.
+
+"Missy, did you know dat Indians camped at Skull Shoals, down in Greene
+County, a long time ago? Old folkses said dey used to be 'round here
+too, 'specially at Cherokee Corners. At dem places, it was a long time
+'fore dey stopped plowin' up bones whar Indians had done been buried.
+Right down on dis old river, nigh Mr. Aycock's place, dey says you kin
+still see caves whar folkses lived when de Indians owned dese parts. If
+high waters ain't washed 'em all away, de skeletons of some of dem
+folkses what lived dar is still in dem caves. Slaves used to hide in dem
+same caves when dey was runnin' off from deir marsters or tryin' to keep
+out of de way of de law. Dat's how dem caves was found; by white folkses
+huntin' runaway slaves.
+
+"Now Missy, you don't keer nothin' 'bout my weddin'. To tell de trufe,
+I never had no weddin'; I had to steal dat gal of mine. I had done axed
+her mammy for her, but she jus' wouldn't 'gree for me to have Mary, so I
+jus' up and told her I was gwine to steal dat gal. Dat old 'oman 'lowed
+she would see 'bout dat, and she kept Mary in her sight day and night,
+inside de house mos'ly. It looked lak I never was gwine to git a chance
+to steal my gal, but one day a white boy bought my license for me and I
+got Brudder Bill Mitchell to go dar wid me whilst Mary's ma was asleep.
+Us went inside de house and got married right dar in de room next to
+whar she was sleepin'. When she waked up dere was hot times 'round dat
+place for a while, but good old Brudder Mitchell stayed right dar and
+holped us through de trouble. Mary's done been gone a long time now and
+I misses her mighty bad, but it won't be long now 'fore de Lawd calls me
+to go whar she is.
+
+"I done tried to live right, to keep all de laws, and to pay up my jus'
+and honest debts, cause mist'ess larnt me dat. I was up in Virginny
+wukin' on de railroad a few years ago. De boss man called me aside one
+day and said; 'Paul, you ain't lak dese other Niggers. I kin tell dat
+white folks raised you.' It sho made me proud to hear him say dat, for I
+knows dat old Miss up yonder kin see dat de little Nigger she tuk in and
+raised is still tryin' to live lak she larnt him to do."
+
+When the visitor arose to leave, old Paul smiled and said "Goodby Missy.
+I'se had a good time bringin' back dem old days. Goodby, and God bless
+you."
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Dist. 1
+Ex-Slave 102]
+
+SUBJECT: EMELINE STEPNEY, A DAUGHTER OF SLAVERY
+DISTRICT: W.P.A. NO. 1
+RESEARCH WORKER: JOSEPH E. JAFFEE
+EDITOR: JOHN N. BOOTH
+SUPERVISOR: JOSEPH E. JAFFEE (ASST.)
+[Date Stamp: MAY 8 1937]
+
+
+Emeline Stepney, as she came into the office that July day, was a
+perfect vignette from a past era. Over 90 years old, and unable to walk
+without support, she was still quick witted and her speech, although
+halting, was full of dry humor. Emeline was clad in a homespun dress
+with high collar and long sleeves with wristbands. On her feet she wore
+"old ladies' comforts." She was toothless and her hands were gnarled and
+twisted from rheumatism and hard work.
+
+Emeline's father, John Smith, had come from Virginia and belonged to
+"Cap'n Tom Wilson." Her mother, Sally, "wuz a Georgia borned nigger" who
+belonged to "Mars Shelton Terry." The two plantations near Greensboro,
+in Greene County, were five miles apart and the father came to see his
+family only on Wednesday and Saturday nights. The arrangement evidently
+had no effect in the direction of birth control for Emeline was the
+second of thirteen children.
+
+Life on the Terry place was a fairly pleasant existence. The master was
+an old bachelor and he had two old maid sisters, Miss Sarah and Miss
+Rebecca. The plantation was in charge of two overseers who were
+reasonably kind to the Negroes.
+
+No crops of any kind were sold and consequently the plantation had to be
+self-sustaining. Cotton was spun into clothing in the master's own
+spinning room and the garments were worn by the master and slaves alike.
+A small amount of flax was raised each year and from this the master's
+two sisters made household linens. Food crops consisted of corn, wheat
+(there was a mill on the plantation to grind these into flour and meal),
+sweet potatoes, and peas. In the smoke house there was always plenty of
+pork, beef, mutton, and kid. The wool from the sheep was made into
+blankets and woolen garments.
+
+The Terry household was not like other menages of the time. There were
+only one or two house servants, the vast majority being employed in the
+fields. Work began each morning at eight o'clock and was over at
+sundown. No work was done on Saturday, the day being spent in
+preparation for Sunday or in fishing, visiting, or "jes frolickin'". The
+master frequently let them have dances in the yards on Saturday
+afternoon. To supply the music they beat on tin buckets with sticks.
+
+On Sunday the Negroes were allowed to attend the "white folks' church"
+where a balcony was reserved for them. Some masters required their
+"people" to go to church; but Emeline's master thought it a matter for
+the individual to decide for himself.
+
+Emeline was about 15 when her first suitor and future husband began to
+come to see her. He came from a neighboring farm and had to have a pass
+to show the "patty rollers" or else he would be whipped. He never stayed
+at night even after they were married because he was afraid he might be
+punished.
+
+The slaves were never given any spending money. The men were allowed to
+use tobacco and on rare occasions there was "toddy" for them. Emeline
+declares SHE never used liquor and ascribes her long life partly to this
+fact and partly to her belief in God.
+
+She believes in signs but interprets them differently [HW: ?] from most
+of her people. She believes that if a rooster crows he is simply
+"crowin' to his crowd" or if a cow bellows it is "mos' likely bellowin'
+fer water." If a person sneezes while eating she regards this as a sign
+that the person is eating too fast or has a bad cold. She vigorously
+denies that any of these omens foretells death. Some "fool nigger"
+believe that an itching foot predicts a journey to a strange land; but
+Emeline thinks it means that the foot needs washing.
+
+Aunt Emeline has some remedies which she has found very effective in the
+treatment of minor ailiments. Hoarhound tea and catnip tea are good for
+colds and fever. Yellow root will cure sore throat and a tea made from
+sheep droppings will make babies teethe easily. "I kin still tas'e dat
+sassafras juice mammy used to give all de chilluns." She cackled as she
+was led out the door.
+
+
+
+
+[HW: Atlanta
+Dist. 5
+Ex-Slave #103]
+
+2-4-37
+Whitley
+SEC.
+Ross
+
+[HW: AMANDA STYLES]
+
+
+On November 18, 1936 Amanda Styles ex-slave, was interviewed at her
+residence 268 Baker Street N.E. Styles is about 80 years of age and
+could give but a few facts concerning her life as a slave. Her family
+belonged to an ordinary class of people neither rich nor poor. Her
+master Jack Lambert owned a small plantation; and one other slave
+besides her family which included her mother, father and one sister. The
+only event during slavery that impressed itself on Mrs. Styles was the
+fact that when the Yanks came to their farm they carried off her mother
+and she was never heard of again.
+
+Concerning superstitions, signs, and other stories pertaining to this
+Mrs. Styles related the following signs and events. As far as possible
+the stories are given in her exact words. "During my day it was going
+ter by looking in the clouds. Some folks could read the signs there. A
+'oman that whistled wuz marked to be a bad 'oman. If a black cat crossed
+your path you sho would turn round and go anudder way. It was bad luck
+to sit on a bed and when I wuz small I wuz never allowed to sit on the
+bed."
+
+Following are stories, related by Mrs. Styles, which had their origin
+during slavery and immediately following slavery.
+
+"During slavery time there was a family that had a daughter and she
+married and ebby body said she wuz a witch cause at night dey sed she
+would turn her skin inside out and go round riding folks horses. Der
+next morning der horses manes would be tied up. Now her husband didn't
+know she was a witch so somebody tole him he could tell by cutting off
+one of her limbs so one night the wife changed to a cat and the husband
+cut off her forefinger what had a ring on it. After that der wife would
+keep her hand hid cause her finger wuz cut off; and she knowed her
+husband would find out that she wuz the witch.
+
+My mother sed her young mistress wuz a witch and she too married but her
+husband didn't know that she wuz a witch; and she would go round at
+night riding horses and turning the cows milk into blood. Der folks
+didn't know what ter do instead of milk they had blood. So one day a old
+lady came there and told em that a witch had been riding the cow, and to
+cast off the spell, they had to take a horse shoe and put it in the
+bottom of the churn and then the blood would turn back ter milk and
+butter. Sho nuff they did it and got milk.
+
+Anudder man had a wife that wuz accused of being a witch so he cut her
+leg off and it wuz a cats' leg and when his wife came back her leg was
+missing.
+
+They say there wuz a lot of conjuring too and I have heard 'bout a lot
+of it. My husband told me he went to see a 'oman once dat had scorpions
+in her body. The conjurer did it by putting the blood of a scorpion in
+her body and this would breed more scorpions in her. They had to get
+anudder conjurer to undo the spell.
+
+There wuz anudder family that lived near and that had a daughter and
+when she died they say she had a snake in her body.
+
+My husband sed he wuz conjured when he wuz a boy and had ter walk with
+his arms outstretched he couldn't put em down at all and couldn't even
+move 'em. One day he met a old man and he sed "Son whats der matter wid
+you?" "I don't know," he sed. "Den why don't you put your arms down?" "I
+can't." So the old man took a bottle out of his pocket and rubbed his
+arms straight down 'till they got alright.
+
+He told me too bout a 'oman fixing her husband. This 'oman saw anudder
+man she wonted so she had her husband fixed so he would throw his arms
+up get on his knees and bark just like a dog. So they got some old man
+that wuz a conjurer to come and cure him. He woulda died if they hadn't
+got that spell off him.
+
+My father told me that a 'oman fixed anudder one cause she married her
+sweetheart she told her he nebber would do her any good and sho nuff she
+fixed her so dat she would have a spell ebby time she went to church.
+One day they sent fer her husband and asked him what wuz the matter with
+her and he told them that this other 'oman fixed her with conjure. They
+sent for a conjurer and he came and rubbed some medicine on her body and
+she got alright.
+
+During slavery time the master promised ter whip a nigger and when he
+came out ter whip him instead he just told him "Go on nigger 'bout your
+business." Der Nigger had fixed him by spitting as for as he could spit
+so the master couldn't come any nearer than that spit.
+
+I know a Nigger that they sed wuz kin ter the devil. He told me that he
+could go out hind the house and make some noise and the devil would come
+and dance with him. He sed the devil learned him to play a banjo and if
+you wanted to do anything the devil could do, go to a cross road walk
+backwards and curse God. But don't nebber let the devil touch any of
+your works or anything that belonged to you or you would lose your
+power.
+
+The nearest I ebber came ter believing in conjure wuz when my step
+mother got sick. She fell out with an 'oman that lived with her daughter
+cause this 'oman had did something ter her daughter; and so she called
+her a black kinky head hussy and this 'oman got fightin mad and sed ter
+her. "Nebber mind you'll be nappy and kinky headed too when I git
+through wid you." My Ma's head turned real white and funny right round
+the edge and her mind got bad and she used to chew tobacco and spit in
+her hands and rub it in her head; and very soon all her hair fell out.
+She even quit my father after living with him 20 years saying he had
+poisoned her. She stayed sick a long time and der doctors nebber could
+understand her sickness. She died and I will always believe she wuz
+fixed.
+
+After relating the last story my interview with Mrs. Styles came to an
+end. I thanked her and left, wondering over the strange stories she had
+told me.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: A Folk History of
+Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves, by Work Projects Administration
+
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