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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18484-8.txt b/18484-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aadba4f --- /dev/null +++ b/18484-8.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: 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 *** + +***** This file should be named 18484-8.txt or 18484-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/4/8/18484/ + +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) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves + 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> <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> <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> <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—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—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—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—as typical of the +majority of aged Negroes—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—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 & 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—dat's dis +gal of mine here—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—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 & 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—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—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—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'—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—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."</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—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.</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—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 & 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—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—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—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—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 & 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—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 +<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—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—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 ——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—the soul of humbleness +and politeness—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—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—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—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—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."</p> + + +<p>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.</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—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—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—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—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—'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."</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—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—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—"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.</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—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—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 +<span class="pagenum"><a name="v.043p.155152" id="v.043p.155152"></a>[152]</span> +away an' hide in de woods—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—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 & 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—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—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—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—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—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—EX-SLAVE<br /> + 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—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—'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 +<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—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—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)—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—wheat, corn, potatoes, peas, hogs, cows, sheep, +chickens—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—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'—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?—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—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.</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—</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—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."</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—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—"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—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?—I don't know—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"—(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 +<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—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 +<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'—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—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—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—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—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—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—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 & 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—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—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—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—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—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¢ 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.</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—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.</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—'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,'—'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.</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 & 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—more than I could think up all day—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 & 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—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—they called 'em +teesters—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—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,"—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. +<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 & 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—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.</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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: A FOLK *** + +***** This file should be named 18484-h.htm or 18484-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/4/8/18484/ + +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) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves + 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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES: A FOLK *** + +***** This file should be named 18484.txt or 18484.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/4/8/18484/ + +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) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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