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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:24 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:24 -0700 |
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diff --git a/11255-0.txt b/11255-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e7b72eb --- /dev/null +++ b/11255-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10064 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11255 *** + +[TR: ***] = Transcriber Note +[HW: ***] = Handwritten Note + + + +[Illustration: Old Slave] + + + + +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 II + +ARKANSAS NARRATIVES + +PART I + + + + +Prepared by +the Federal Writers' Project of +the Works Progress Administration +for the State of Arkansas + + + +INFORMANTS + +Abbott, Silas +Abernathy, Lucian +Abromsom, Laura +Adeline, Aunt +Adway, Rose +Aiken, Liddie +Aldridge, Mattie +Alexander, Amsy O. +Alexander, Diana +Alexander, Fannie +Alexander, Lucretia +Allen, Ed +Allison, Lucindy +Ames, Josephine +Anderson, Charles +Anderson, Nancy +Anderson, R.B. +Anderson, Sarah +Anderson, Selie +Anderson, W.A. +Anthony, Henry +Arbery, Katie +Armstrong, Campbell +Armstrong, Cora + +Baccus, Lillie +Badgett, Joseph Samuel +Bailey, Jeff +Baker, James +Baltimore, William +Banks, Mose +Banner, Henry +Barnett, John W.H. +Barnett, Josephine Ann +Barnett, Lizzie +Barnett, Spencer +Barr, Emma +Barr, Robert +Bass, Matilda +Beal, Emmett +Beard, Dina +Beck, Annie +Beckwith, J.H. +Beel, Enoch +Belle, Sophie D. +Bellus, Cyrus +Benford, Bob +Bennet, Carrie Bradley Logan +Benson, George +Benton, Kato +Bertrand, James +Biggs, Alice +Billings, Mandy +Birch, Jane +Black, Beatrice +Blackwell, Boston +Blake, Henry +Blakeley, Adeline +Bobo, Vera Roy +Boechus, Liddie +Bond, Maggie (Bunny) +Bonds, Caroline +Boone, Rev. Frank T. +Boone, J.F. +Boone, Jonas +Bowdry, John +Boyd, Jack +Boyd, Mal +Braddox, George +Bradley, Edward +Bradley, Rachel +Brannon, Elizabeth +Brantley, Mack +Brass, Ellen +Bratton, Alice +Briles, Frank +Brooks, Mary Ann +Brooks, Waters +Brown, Casie Jones +Brown, Elcie +Brown, F.H. +Brown, George +Brown, J.N. +Brown, Lewis +Brown, Lewis +Brown, Mag +Brown, Mary +Brown, Mattie +Brown, Molly +Brown, Peter +Brown, William +Brown, William +Broyles, Maggie +Bryant, Ida +Buntin, Belle +Burgess, Jeff +Burkes, Norman +Burks, Sr., Will +Burris, Adeline +Butler, Jennie +Byrd, E.L. +Byrd, Emmett Augusta + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Old Slave _Frontispiece_ + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person Interviewed: Silas Abbott + R.F.D. + Brinkley, Ark. +Age: 73 + + +"I was born in Chickashaw County, Mississippi. Ely Abbott and Maggie +Abbott was our owners. They had three girls and two boys--Eddie and +Johnny. We played together till I was grown. I loved em like if they was +brothers. Papa and Mos Ely went to war together in a two-horse top +buggy. They both come back when they got through. + +"There was eight of us children and none was sold, none give way. My +parents name Peter and Mahaley Abbott. My father never was sold but my +mother was sold into this Abbott family for a house girl. She cooked and +washed and ironed. No'm, she wasn't a wet nurse, but she tended to Eddie +and Johnny and me all alike. She whoop them when they needed, and Miss +Maggie whoop me. That the way we grow'd up. Mos Ely was 'ceptionly good +I recken. No'm, I never heard of him drinkin' whiskey. They made cider +and 'simmon beer every year. + +"Grandpa was a soldier in the war. He fought in a battle. I don't know +the battle. He wasn't hurt. He come home and told us how awful it was. + +"My parents stayed on at Mos Ely's and my uncle's family stayed on. He +give my uncle a home and twenty acres of ground and my parents same +mount to run a gin. I drove two mules, my brother drove two and we drove +two more between us and run the gin. My auntie seen somebody go in the +gin one night but didn't think bout them settin' it on fire. They had a +torch, I recken, in there. All I knowed, it burned up and Mos Ely had to +take our land back and sell it to pay for four or five hundred bales of +cotton got burned up that time. We stayed on and sharecropped with him. +We lived between Egypt and Okolona, Mississippi. Aberdeen was our +tradin' point. + +"I come to Arkansas railroading. I railroaded forty years. Worked on the +section, then I belong to the extra gang. I help build this railroad to +Memphis. + +"I did own a home but I got in debt and had to sell it and let my money +go. + +"Times is so changed and the young folks different. They won't work only +nough to get by and they want you to give em all you got. They take it +if they can. Nobody got time to work. I think times is worse than they +ever been, cause folks hate to work so bad. I'm talking bout hard work, +field work. Jobs young folks want is scarce; jobs they could get they +don't want. They want to run about and fool around an get by. + +"I get $8.00 and provisions from the government." + + + + +Interviewer: Watt McKinney +Person interviewed: Lucian Abernathy, Marvell, Arkansas +Age: 85 + + +"I was borned in de 'streme norf part of Mississippi nigh de Tennessee +line. You mought say dat it was 'bout straddle of de state line and it +wasn't no great piece from where us libed to Moscow what was de station +on de ole Memfis en Charston Railroad. My white folks was de Abernathys. +You neber do hear 'bout many folks wid dat name these times, leastwise +not ober in dis state, but dere sure used to be heap of dem Abernathys +back home where I libed and I spect dat mebbe some dere yit en cose it's +bound to be some of the young uns lef' dar still, but de ole uns, Mars +Luch en dem, dey is all gone. + +"Mars Luch, he was my young boss. Though he name was Lucian us all +called him Luch and dat was who I is named for. Ole mars, he was name +Will and dat was Mars Luch's pa and my ole miss, she name Miss Cynthia +and young miss, her name Miss Ellen. Ole mars an' ole miss, dey just had +de two chillun, Mars Luch and Miss Ellen; dat is what libed to be grown. +Mars Luch, he 'bout two year older dan me and Miss Ellen, she 'bout two +year older dan Mars Luch. Miss Ellen, she married er gentman from +Virginny and went dar to lib and Mars Luch, he married Miss Fannie +Keith. + +"Miss Fannie's folks, dey libed right nigh us on to 'j'ining place and +dem was my ole man's peoples. Yas sah, boss, dat ole man you see settin' +right dar now in dat chere. She was Ella Keith, dats zackly what her +named when us married and she named fer Miss Fannie's ma. Dat she was. +Us neber did leave our folkses eben atter de War ober and de niggers git +dey freedom, yit an' still a heap of de niggers did leave dey mars' and +a heap of dem didn' an' us stayed on an farmed de lan' jus' like us been +doin' 'cept dey gib us a contract for part de crop an' sell us our grub +'gainst us part of de crop and take dey money outen us part of de cotton +in de fall just like de bizness is done yit and I reckon dat was de +startin' of de sharecrop dat is still goin' on. + +"Soon atter Mars Luch good and grown an' him an' Miss Fannie done +married, ole mars and ole miss, dey bofe died and Mars Luch say he gwine +sell out an' lebe 'cause de lan' gittin' so poor and wore out and it +takin' three an' more acres to make a bale and he tell us all dat when +we wind up de crop dat fall and say, 'You boys mebbe can stay on wid +whoever I sell out to er if not den you can fin' you homes wid some one +close if you wants to do dat.' And den he says dat he gwine fin' him +some good lan' mebbe in Arkansas down de riber from Memfis. Mighty nigh +all de ole famblys lef' de place when Mars Luch sole it out. + +"My pappy and my mammy, dey went to Memfis and me wid 'em. I was growed +by den and was fixin' to marry Ella just es soon es I could fin' a good +home. I was a country nigger en liked de farm an' en cose wasn't +satisfied in town, so 'twasn't long 'fore I heered 'bout han's beein' +needed down de riber in Mississippi and dats where I went en stayed for +two years and boss, I sure was struck wid dat lan' what you could make a +bale to a acre on an' I just knowed dat I was gwine git rich in a hurry +an' so I writ er letter to Ella en her peoples tellin' dem 'bout de rich +lan' and 'vising dem to come down dere where I was and I was wantin' to +marry Ella den. Boss, and you know what, 'twasn't long afore I gits er +letter back an' de letter says dat Ella an' her peoples is down de riber +in Arkansas from Memfis at Bledsoe wid Mars Luch an' Miss Fannie where +Mars Luch had done moved him an' Miss Fannie to a big plantation dey had +bought down dere. + +"Dat was a funny thing how dat happened an' Bledsoe, it was right 'cross +de riber from where I was en had been for two years an' just soon es I +git dat letter I 'range wid a nigger to take me 'cross da riber in er +skift to de plantation where dey all was and 'bout fust folkses dat I +see is Ella an' her peoples en lots of de famblys from de ole home place +back in Tennessee an' I sure was proud to see Mars Luch en Miss Fannie. +Dey had built demselves a fine house at a p'int dat was sorter like a +knoll where de water don' git when de riber come out on de lan' in case +of oberflow and up de rode 'bout half mile from de house, Mars Luch had +de store en de gin. Dey had de boys den, dat is Mars Luch and Miss +Fannie did, and de boys was named Claude an' Clarence atter Miss +Fannie's two brudders. + +"Dem was de finest boys dat one ever did see. At dat time Claude, he +'bout two year old and Clarence, he 'bout four er mebbe little less. +Ella, she worked in da house cooking for Miss Fannie an' nussin' de +chillun and she plumb crazy 'bout de chillun an' dey just as satisfied +wid her as dey was wid dere mama and Ella thought more dem chillun dan +she did anybody. She just crazy 'bout dem boys. Mars Luch, he gibe me +job right 'way sort flunkying for him and hostling at de lot an' barn +and 'twasn't long den 'fore Ella and me, us git married an' libs in a +cabin dat Mars Luch had built in de back of de big house. + +"Us git 'long fine for more dan a year and Mars Luch, he raise plenty +cotton an' at times us ud take trip up to Memfis on de boat, on de Phil +Allin what was 'bout de fineist boat on de riber in dem days and de one +dat most frequent put in at us landin' wid de freight for Mars Luch and +den he most ginally sont he cotton an' seed to Memfis on dis same Phil +Allin. + +"I jus' said, boss, dat us git 'long fine for more dan a year and us all +mighty happy till Miss Fannie took sick an' died an' it mighty nigh +killed Mars Luch and all of us and Mars Luch, he jus' droop for weeks +till us git anxious 'bout him but atter while he git better and seam +like mebbe he gwine git ober he sadness but he neber was like he used to +be afore Miss Fannie died. + +"Atter Miss Fannie gone, Mars Luch, he say, 'Ella, you an' Luch mus' +mobe in de big house an' make you a bed in de room where de boys sleep, +so's you can look atter 'em good, 'cause lots nights I gwine be out late +at de gin an' store an' I knows you gwine take plumb good care of dem +chillun.' An' so us fixed us bed in de big house an' de boys, dey +sleeped right dar in dat room on dere bed where us could take care of +'em. + +"Dat went on for 'bout two years an' den Mars Luch, he 'gun to get in +bad health an' jus' wasted down like and den one night when he at de +store he took down bad and dey laid him down on de bed in de back room +where he would sleep on sich nights dat he didn' come home when he was +so busy an' he sont a nigger on a mule for me to come up dar an' I went +in he room an' Mars Luch, he say, 'Lissen, Luch, you is been a good +faithful nigger an' Ella too, an' I is gonna die tonight and I wants you +to send er letter to Miss Ellen in Virginny atter I is daid en tell her +to come an' git de boys 'cause she is all de kin peoples dat dey habe +lef' now cepn cose you an' Ella an' it mought be some time afore she +gits here so you all take good en faithful care dem till she 'rives an' +tell her she habe to see dat all de bizness wind up and take de boys +back wid her an' keep dem till dey is growed,' + +"Well, boss, us done jus' like Mars Luch tell us to do an' us sure feel +sorry for dem two little boys. Dey jus' 'bout five an' seben year old +den and day sure loved dere pa; day was plumb crazy 'bout Mars Luch and +him 'bout dem too. + +"'Bout two weeks from time dat Mars Luch daid, Miss Ellen come on de +boat one night an' she stayed some days windin' up de bizness and den +she lef' an' take de boys 'way wid her back to Virginny where she libed. +Us sure did hate to 'part from dem chillun. Dat's been nigh on to sixty +years ago but us neber forgit dem boys an' us will allus lobe dem. Dey +used to sen' us presents an' sich every Christmas for seberal years and +den us started movin' 'bout an' I reckon dey don' know where we's at +now. I sure would like to see dem boys ag'in. I betcha I'd know dem +right today. Mebbe I wouldn't, it's been so long since I seen 'em; but +shucks, I know dat dey would know me." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Laura Abromsom, R.F.D., Holly Grove, Arkansas + Receives mail at Clarendon, Arkansas +Age: 74 + + +"My mama was named Eloise Rogers. She was born in Missouri. She was sold +and brought to three or four miles from Brownsville, Tennessee. Alex +Rogers bought her and my papa. She had been a house girl and well cared +for. She never got in contact wid her folks no more after she was sold. +She was a dark woman. Papa was a ginger cake colored man. Mama talked +like Alex Rogers had four or five hundred acres of land and lots of +niggers to work it. She said he had a cotton factory at Brownsville. + +"Mistress Barbara Ann was his wife. They had two boys and three girls. +One boy George went plumb crazy and outlived 'em all. The other boy died +early. Alex Rogers got my papa in Richmond, Virginia. He was took outer +a gang. We had a big family. I have eight sisters and one brother. + +"Pa say they strop 'em down at the carriage house and give 'em five +hundred lashes. He say they have salt and black pepper mixed up in er +old bucket and put it all on flesh cut up with a rag tied on a stick +(mop). Alex Rogers had a nigger to put it on the place they whooped. The +Lord puts up wid such wrong doings and den he comes and rectifies it. He +does that very way. + +"Pa say they started to whoop him at the gin house. He was a sorter +favorite. He cut up about it. That didn't make no difference 'bout it. +Somehow they scared him up but he didn't git whooped thater time. + +"They fed good on Alex Rogers' place. They'd buy a barrel of coffee, a +barrel molasses, a barrel sugar. Some great big barrels. + +"Alex Rogers wasn't a good man. He'd tell them to steal a hog and git +home wid it. If they ketch you over there they'll whoop you. He'd help +eat hogs they'd steal. + +"One time papa was working on the roads. The neighbor man and road man +was fixing up their eating. He purty nigh starved on that road work. He +was hired out. + +"Mama and papa spoke like they was mighty glad to get sat free. Some +believed they'd git freedom and others didn't. They had places they met +and prayed for freedom. They stole out in some of their houses and +turned a washpot down at the door. Another white man, not Alex Rogers, +tole mama and papa and a heap others out in the field working. She say +they quit and had a regular bawl in the field. They cried and laughed +and hollered and danced. Lot of them run offen the place soon as the man +tole 'em. My folks stayed that year and another year. + +"What is I been doing? Ast me is I been doing? What ain't I been doing +be more like it. I raised fifteen of my own children. I got four living. +I living wid one right here in dis house wid me now. I worked on the +farm purty nigh all my life. I come to dis place. Wild, honey, it was! I +come in 1901. Heap of changes since then. + +"Present times--Not as much union 'mongst young black and white as the +old black and white. They growing apart. Nobody got nothin' to give. No +work. I used to could buy second-handed clothes to do my little children +a year for a little or nothin'. Won't sell 'em now nor give 'em 'way +neither. They don't work hard as they used to. They say they don't git +nothin' outen it. They don't want to work. Times harder in winter 'cause +it cold and things to eat killed out. I cans meat. We dry beef. In town +this Nickellodian playing wild wid young colored folks--these Sea Bird +music boxes. They play all kind things. Folks used to stay home Saturday +nights. Too much running 'round, excitement, wickedness in the world +now. This generation is worst one. They trying to cut the Big Apple +dance when we old folks used to be down singing and praying, 'Cause dis +is a wicked age times is bad and hard." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +Mulatto, clean, intelligent. + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Zillah Cross Peel +Person interviewed: "Aunt Adeline" Age: 89 +Home: 101 Rock Street, Fayetteville, Arkansas + + +"I was born a slave about 1848, in Hickmon County, Tennessee," said Aunt +Adeline who lives as care taker in a house at 101 Rock Street, +Fayetteville, Arkansas, which is owned by the Blakely-Hudgens estate. + +Aunt Adeline has been a slave and a servant in five generations of the +Parks family. Her mother, Liza, with a group of five Negroes, was sold +into slavery to John P.A. Parks, in Tennessee, about 1840. + +"When my mother's master come to Arkansas about 1849, looking for a +country residence, he bought what was known as the old Kidd place on the +Old Wire Road, which was one of the Stage Coach stops. I was about one +year old when we came. We had a big house and many times passengers +would stay several days and wait for the next stage to come by. It was +then that I earned my first money. I must have been about six or seven +years old. One of Mr. Parks' daughters was about one and a half years +older than I was. We had a play house back of the fireplace chimney. We +didn't have many toys; maybe a doll made of a corn cob, with a dress +made from scraps and a head made from a roll of scraps. We were playing +church. Miss Fannie was the preacher and I was the audience. We were +singing "Jesus my all to Heaven is gone." When we were half way through +with our song we discovered that the passengers from the stage coach had +stopped to listen. We were so frightened at our audience that we both +ran. But we were coaxed to come back for a dime and sing our song over. +I remember that Miss Fannie used a big leaf for a book. + +"I had always been told from the time I was a small child that I was a +Negro of African stock. That it was no disgrace to be a Negro and had it +not been for the white folks who brought us over here from Africa as +slaves, we would never have been here and would have been much better +off. + +"We colored folks were not allowed to be taught to read or write. It was +against the law. My master's folks always treated me well. I had good +clothes. Sometimes I was whipped for things I should not have done just +as the white children were. + +"When a young girl was married her parents would always give her a +slave. I was given by my master to his daughter, Miss Elizabeth, who +married Mr. Blakely. I was just five years old. She moved into a new +home at Fayetteville and I was taken along but she soon sent me back +home to my master telling him that I was too little and not enough help +to her. So I went back to the Parks home and stayed until I was over +seven years old. [1]My master made a bill of sale for me to his +daughter, in order to keep account of all settlements, so when he died +and the estate settled each child would know how he stood. + +"I was about 15 years old when the Civil War ended and was still living +with Mrs. Blakely and helped care for her little children. Her daughter, +Miss Lenora, later married H.M. Hudgens, and I then went to live with +her and cared for her children. When her daughter Miss Helen married +Professor Wiggins, I took care of her little daughter, and this made +five generations that I have cared for. + +"During the Civil War, Mr. Parks took all his slaves and all of his fine +stock, horses and cattle and went South to Louisiana following the +Southern army for protection. Many slave owners left the county taking +with them their slaves and followed the army. + +"When the war was over, Mr. Parks was still in the South and gave to +each one of his slaves who did not want to come back to Arkansas so much +money. My uncle George came back with Mr. Parks and was given a good +mountain farm of forty acres, which he put in cultivation and one of my +uncle's descendants still lives on the place. My mother did not return +to Arkansas but went on to Joplin, Missouri, and for more than fifty +years, neither one of us knew where the other one was until one day a +man from Fayetteville went into a restaurant in Joplin and ordered his +breakfast, and my mother who was in there heard him say he lived in +Fayetteville, Arkansas. He lived just below the Hudgens home and when my +mother enquired about the family he told her I was still alive and was +with the family. While neither of us could read nor write we +corresponded through different people. But I never saw her after I was +eleven years old. Later Mr. Hudgens went to Joplin to see if she was +well taken care of. She owned her own little place and when she died +there was enough money for her to be buried. + +"Civil War days are vivid to me. The Courthouse which was then in the +middle of the Square was burned one night by a crazy Confederate +soldier. The old men in the town saved him and then put him in the +county jail to keep him from burning other houses. Each family was to +take food to him and they furnished bedding. The morning I was to take +his breakfast, he had ripped open his feather bed and crawled inside to +get warm. The room was so full of feathers when I got there that his +food nearly choked him. I had carried him ham, hot biscuits and a pot of +coffee. + +"After the War many soldiers came to my mistress, Mrs. Blakely, trying +to make her free me. I told them I was free but I did not want to go +anywhere, that I wanted to stay in the only home that I had ever known. +In a way that placed me in a wrong attitude. I was pointed out as +different. Sometimes I was threatened for not leaving but I stayed on. + +"I had always been well treated by my master's folks. While we lived at +the old Kidd place, there was a church a few miles from our home. My +uncle George was coachman and drove my master's family in great splendor +in a fine barouche to church. After the war, when he went to his own +place, Mr. Parks gave him the old carriage and bought a new one for the +family. + +"I can remember the days of slavery as happy ones. We always had an +abundance of food. Old Aunt Martha cooked and there was always plenty +prepared for all the white folks as well as the colored folks. There was +a long table at the end of the big kitchen for the colored folks. The +vegetables were all prepared of an evening by Aunt Martha with someone +to help her. + +"My mother seemed to have a gift of telling fortunes. She had a brass +ring about the size of a dollar with a handwoven knotted string that she +used. I remember that she told many of the young people in the +neighborhood many strange things. They would come to her with their +premonitions. + +"Yes, we were afraid of the patyroles. All colored folks were. They said +that any Negroes that were caught away from their master's premises +without a permit would be whipped by the patyroles. They used to sing a +song: + + 'Run nigger run, + The patyroles + Will get you.' + +"Yes'm, the War separated lots of families. Mr. Parks' son, John C. +Parks, enlisted in Colonel W.H. Brooks' regiment at Fayetteville as +third lieutenant. Mr. Jim Parks was killed at the Battle of Getysburg. + +"I do remember it was my mistress, Mrs. Blakely, who kept the Masonic +Building from being burned. The soldiers came to set it on fire. Mrs. +Blakely knew that if it burned, our home would burn as it was just +across the street. Mrs. Blakely had two small children who were very ill +in upstairs rooms. She told the soldiers if they burned the Masonic +Building that her house would burn and she would be unable to save her +little children. They went away." + +While Aunt Adeline is nearing ninety, she is still active, goes shopping +and also tends to the many crepe myrtle bushes as well as many other +flowers at the Hudgens place. + +She attends to the renting of the apartment house, as caretaker, and is +taken care of by members of the Blakely-Hudgens families. + +Aunt Adeline talks "white folks language," as they say, and seldom +associates with the colored people of the town. + + +[Footnote 1: This statement can be verified by the will made by John +P.A. Parks, and filed in Probate Court in the clerk's office in +Washington County.] + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Rose Adway + 405 W. Pullen, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 76 + + +"I was born three years 'fore surrender. That's what my people told me. +Born in Mississippi. Let me see what county I come out of. Smith +County--that's where I was bred and born. + +"I know I seen the Yankees but I didn't know what they was. My mama and +papa and all of 'em talked about the War. + +"My papa was a water toter in durin' the War. No, he didn't serve the +army--just on the farm. + +"Mama was the cook for her missis in slavery times. + +"I think my folks went off after freedom and then come back. That was +after they had done been sot free. I can remember dat all right. + +"I registered down here at the Welfare and I had to git my license from +Mississippi and I didn't remember which courthouse I got my license, but +I sent letters over there till I got it up. I got all my papers now, but +I ain't never got no pension. + +"I been through so much I can't git much in my remembrance, but I was +_here_--that ain't no joke--I _been_ here. + +"My folks said their owners was all right. You know they was 'cause they +come back. I remember dat all right. + +"I been farmin' till I got disabled. After I married I went to farmin'. +And I birthed fourteen head of chillun by dat one man! Fourteen head by +dat one man! Stayed at home and took care of 'em till I got 'em up some +size, too. All dead but five out of the fourteen head. + +"My missis' name was Miss Catherine and her husband named Abe Carr. + +"I went to school a little bit--mighty little. I could read but I never +could write. + +"And I'm about to go blind in my old age. I need help and I need it bad. +Chillun ain't able to help me none 'cept give me a little bread and give +me some medicine once in a while. But I'm thankful to the Lord I can get +outdoors. + +"I don't know what to think of this young race. That baby there knows +more than I do now, nearly. Back there when I was born, I didn't know +nothin'. + +"I know they said it was bad luck to bring a hoe or a ax in the house on +your shoulder. I heard the old folks tell dat--sure did. + +"And I was told dat on old Christmas night the cows gets down on their +knees and gives thanks to the Lord. + +"I 'member one song: + + 'I am climbin' Jacob's ladder + I am climbin' Jacob's ladder + I am climbin' Jacob's ladder + For the work is almost done. + + 'Every round goes higher and higher + Every round goes higher and higher + Every round goes higher and higher + For my work is almost done. + + 'Sister, now don't you get worried + Sister, now don't you get worried + Sister, now don't you get worried + For the work is almost done.' + +My mother used to sing dat when she was spinnin' and cardin'. They'd +spin and dye the thread with some kind of indigo. Oh, I 'member dat all +right." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Liddie Aiken, Wheatley, Arkansas +Age: 62 + + +"My mother was born in southwest Georgia close to the Alabama line. Her +mother come from Virginia. She was sold with her mother and two little +brothers. Her mother had been sold and come in a wagon to southwest +Georgia. They was all field hands. They cleaned out new ground. They was +afraid of hoop-snakes. She said they look like a hoop rolling and +whatever they stuck a horn or their tail in it died. They killed trees. + +"Mama said she druther plough than chop. She was a big woman and they +let her plough right along by her two little brothers, Henry and Will +Keller. Will et so many sweet potatoes they called him 'Tater Keller.' +After he got grown we come out here. Folks called him 'Tate Keller.' +Henry died. I recollect Uncle Tate. + +"I was born close to Mobile, Alabama. Mama was named Sarah Keller. +Grandma was called Mariah. Banks Tillman sold her the first time. Bill +Keller bought them all the last time. His wife was named Ada Keller. +They had a great big family but I forgot what they said about them. Mack +clem up in a persimmon tree one day and the old man hollered at him, +'Get out of that tree 'fore you fall.' 'Bout then the boy turned 'loose +and fell. It knocked the breath out him. It didn't kill him. Three or +four of Miss Ada's children died with congestive chills. Mama said the +reason they had them chills they played down at the gin pond all the +time. It was shady and a pretty place and they was allowed to play in +the pond. Three or four of them died nearly in a heap. + +"One of the boys had a pet billy-goat. It got up on top mama's house one +time. It would bleat and look down at them. They was afraid it would +jump down on them if they went out. It chewed up things Aunt Beanie +washed. She had them put out on bushes and might had a line too. They +fattened it and killed it. Mama said Mr. Bill Keller never had nothing +too good to divide with his niggers. I reckon by that they got some of +the goat. + +"They lived like we live now. Every family done his own cooking. I don't +know how many families lived on the place. + +"I know about the Yankees. They come by and every one of the men and +boys went with them but Uncle Cal. He was cripple and they advised him +not to start. Didn't none of the women go. Mama said she never seen but +one ever come back. She thought they got killed or went on some place +else. + +"Mr. Keller died and Miss Ada went back to her folks. They left +everything in our care that they didn't move. She took all her house +things. They sold or took all their stock. They left us a few cows and +pigs. I don't know how long they stayed after the old man died. His +children was young; he might not been so old. + +"I recollect grandma. She smoked a pipe nearly all the time. My papa was +a livery stable man. He was a fine man with stock. He was a little black +man. Mama was too big. Grandma was taller but she was slick black. He +lived at Mobile, Alabama. I was the onliest child mama had. Uncle 'Tate +Keller' took grandma and mama to Mobile. He never went to the War. He +was a good carpenter and he worked out when he didn't have a lot to do +in the field. He was off at work when all the black men and boys left +Mr. Bill. He never went back after they left till freedom. + +"They didn't know when freedom took place. They was all scattering for +two years about to get work and something to eat. Tate come and got +them. They went off in a wagon that Tate made for his master, Bill +Keller. We come to Tupelo, Mississippi from Mobile when I was a little +bit of a girl. Then we made one crop and come to Helena. Uncle Tate died +there and mama died at Crocketts Bluff. My papa died back in Mobile, +Alabama. He was breaking a young horse and got throwed up side a tree. +He didn't live long then. + +"I got three boys now and I had seben--all boys. They farms and do +public work. Tom is in Memphis. Pete is in Helena and I live wid Macon +between here (Wheatley) and Cotton Plant. We farm. I done everything +could be thought of on a farm. I ploughed some less than five year ago. +I liked to plough. My boy ploughs all he can now and we do the chopping. +We all pick cotton and get in the corn. We work day laborers now. + +"If I was young the times wouldn't stand in my way. I could make it. I +don't know what is the trouble lessen some wants too much. They can't +get it. We has a living and thankful for it. I never 'plied for no help +yet. + +"I still knits my winter stockings. I got knitting needles and cards my +own mother had and used. I got use for them. I wears clothes on my body +in cold weather. One reason you young folks ain't no 'count you don't +wear enough clothes when it is cold. I wear flannel clothes if I can get +holt of them. + +"Education done ruint the world. I learnt to read a little. I never went +to school. I learnt to work. I learnt my boys to go with me to the field +and not to be ashamed to sweat. It's healthy. They all works." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person Interviewed: Mattie Aldridge +Age: 60? Hazen, Arkansas + + +"My mother's old owner named Master Sanders. She born somewhere in +Tennessee. I heard her say she lived in Mississippi. I was born in +Tennessee. My pa was born in Mississippi. I know he belong to the +Duncans. His name George Washington Duncan. There ain't nary drap white +blood in none us. I got four brothers. I do remembers grandma. She set +and tell us tales bout old times like you want to know. Been so long I +forgotten. Ma was a house girl and pa a field hand. Way grandma talked +it must of been hard to find out what white folks wanted em to do, cause +she couldn't tell what you say some times. She never did talk plain. + +"They was glad when freedom declared. They said they was hard on em. +Whoop em. Pa was killed in Crittenden County in Arkansas. He was +clearin' new ground. A storm come up and a limb hit him. It killed him. +Grandma and ma allus say like if you build a house you want to put all +the winders in you ever goin' to want. It bad luck to cut in and put in +nother one. Sign of a death. I ain't got no business tellin' you bout +that. White folks don't believe in signs. + +"I been raisin' up childern--'dopted childern, washin', ironin', +scourin', hoein', gatherin' corn, pickin' cotton, patchin', cookin'. +They ain't nothin' what I ain't done. + +"No'm, I sure ain't voted. I don't believe in women votin'. They don't +know who to vote for. The men don't know neither. If folks visited they +would care more bout the other an wouldn't be so much devilment goin' +on." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor. +Person Interviewed: Amsy O. Alexander + 2422 Center Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 74 + + +[HW: Helps Build Railroad] + +"I was born in the country several miles from Charlotte in Macklenberg, +County, North Carolina in 1864. + +"My father's name was John Alexander and my mother was Esther McColley. +That was her maiden name of course. + +"My father's master was named Silas Alexander and my mother belonged to +Hugh Reed. I don't know just how she and my father happened to meet. +These two slaveholders were adjoining neighbors, you might say. + +"My father and my mother married during the war. I was the first child. +I had three half brothers and three half sisters from the father's side. +I didn't have no whole brothers and sisters. I am the only one on my +mother's side. My father was not in the war. + +"I don't know that the pateroles bothered him very much. My father and +mother were well treated by our master and then both she and my father +were quiet and their masters were good to them naturally. + +"During slavery times, my father was a farmer. My mother farmed too. She +was a hand in the field. They lived in a little log cabin, one room. +They had a bed in there, a few chairs and a homemade table. They had a +plank floor. I only know what I heard my people speak of. I don't know +what was what for myself because I was too young. + +"From what I can understand they had a big room at the house and the +slaves came there and ate there. They had a colored woman who prepared +their meals. The children mostly were raised on pot liquor. While the +old folk were working the larger young uns mongst the children would +take care of the little ones. + +"Their masters never forced any breeding. I have heard of that happening +in other places but I never heard them speak of it in connection with +our master. + +"When the master came back from the war, they told the slaves they were +free. After slavery my people stayed on and worked on the old +plantation. They didn't get much. Something like fifty cents a day and +one meal. My folks didn't work on shares. + +"Back there in North Carolina times got tight and it seemed that there +wasn't much doing. Agents came from Arkansas trying to get laborers. So +about seven or eight families of us emigrated from North Carolina. That +is how my folks got here. + +"The Ku Klux were bad in North Carolina too. My people didn't have any +trouble with them in Arkansas, though. They weren't bothered so much in +North Carolina because of their owners. But they would come around and +see them. They came at night. We came to Arkansas in the winter of 1897. + +"I went to public school after the war, in North Carolina. I didn't get +any further than the eighth grade. My father and mother didn't get any +schooling till after the war. They could read a little but they picked +it up themselves during slavery. I suppose their Master's children +learned it to them. + +"My father never did see any army service. I have heard him speak of +seeing soldiers come through though. They looted the place and took +everything they wanted and could carry. + +"When I first come to this state, I settled in Drew County and farmed. I +farmed for three years. During the time I was there, I got down sick +with slow fever. When I got over that I decided that I would move to +higher ground. There was a man down there who recommended Little Rock +and so I moved here. I have been here forty-nine years. That is quite a +few days. + +"I belong to the Presbyterian Church and have been a member of that +church for fifty-five years. I have never gotten out publicly, but I +even do my little preaching round in the house here. + +"When I came to Little Rock, I came in a very dull season. There wasn't +even a house to be rented. It was in the winter. I had to rent a room at +"Jones" hall on Ninth and Gaines streets and paid one dollar a day for +it. I stayed there about a month. Finally there was a vacant house over +on Nineteenth street and Common and I moved there. Then I commenced to +look for work and I walked the town over daily. No results whatever. +Finally I struck a little job with the contractor here digging ditches, +grubbing stumps, grading streets and so forth. I worked with him for +three years and finally I got a job with the street car company, as +laborer in the Parks. I worked at that job two years. Finally I got a +job as track laborer. I worked there a year. Then I was promoted to +track foreman. I held that seven years. + +"I quit that then and went to the railroads. I helped to build the +Choctaw Oklahoma and Gulf Railway. When the road was completed, I made +the first trip over it as Porter. I remained there till August 9, 1928. +During that time I was operated on for prostatitis and doctors rendered +me unfit for work, totally disabled; so that is my condition today. + +"I think the future looks bright. I think conditions will get better. I +believe that all that is necessary for betterment is cooperation. + +"I believe the younger generation--the way it looks--is pretty bad. I +think we haven't done anything like as much as we could do in teaching +the youngsters. We need to give them an idea of things. They don't know. +Our future depends on our children If their minds aren't trained, the +future will not be bright. Our leaders should lecture to these young +people and teach them. We have young people who dodge voting because of +the poll tax. That is not the right attitude. I don't know what will +become of us if our children are not better instructed. The white people +are doing more of this than we are. + +"There was a time when children didn't know but what the foot was all +there was of a chicken. The foot was all they had ever seen. But young +folks nowaday should be taught everything." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Diana Alexander, Brinkley, Arkansas +Age: 74 + + +"I was born in Mississippi close to Bihalia. Our owner was Myers(?) +Bogan. He had a wife and children. Mama was a field woman. Her name was +Sarah Bogan and papa's name was Hubberd Bogan. + +"I heard them talk about setting the pot at the doors and having singing +and prayer services. They all sung and prayed around the room. I forgot +all the things they talked about. My parents lived on the same place +after freedom a long time. They said he was good to them. + +"Dr. Bogan in Forrest City, Arkansas always said I was his brother's +child. He was dead years ago, so I didn't have no other way of knowing. + +"The only thing I can recollect about the War was once my mistress took +me and her own little girl upstairs in a kind of ceiling room (attic). +They had their ham meat and jewelry locked up in there and other fine +stuff. She told us to sit down and not move, not even grunt. Me and +Fannie had to be locked up so long. It was dark. We both went to sleep +but we was afraid to stir. The Yankees come then but I didn't get to see +them. I didn't want to be took away by 'em. I was big enough to know +that. I heard 'em say we was near 'bout eat out at the closing of the +War. I thought it muster been the Yankees from what they was talking +about, eating us out. + +"I been washing and ironing and still doing it. All my life I been doing +that 'ceptin' when I worked in the field. + +"Me and my daughter is paying on this house (a good house). I been +making my own living--hard or easy. I don't get no relief aid. Never +have. I 'plied for the old people's pension. Don't get it." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +This must be Myers Bogan, yet she told me Bogan Myers. Later she said +Dr. Bogan of Forrest City was thus and so. + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Fannie Alexander, Helena, Arkansas +Age: 62 + + +"I was an orphant child. My mother-in-law told me during slavery she was +a field hand. One day the overseer was going to whoop one of the women +'bout sompin or other and all the women started with the hoes to him and +run him clear out of the field. They would killed him if he hadn't got +out of the way. She said the master hadn't put a overseer over them for +a long time. Some of 'em wouldn't do their part and he put one of the +men on the place over the women. He was a colored foreman. The women +worked together and the men worked together in different fields. My +mother-in-law was named Alice Drummond. She said they would cut the +hoecakes in half and put that in your pan, then pour the beef stew on +top. She said on Christmas day they had hot biscuits. They give them +flour and things to make biscuit at home on Sundays. When they got +through eating they take their plate and say, 'Thank God for what I +received.' She said they had plenty milk. The churns was up high--five +gallon churns. Some churns was cedar wood. The children would churn +standing on a little stool. It would take two to churn. They would +change about and one brushed away the flies. She lived close to Meridian +and Canton. + +"My mother talked the bright side to her children. She was born in +Tennessee. She had two older sisters sold from her. She never seen them +no more. They was took to Missouri. Mother was never sold. She was real +bright color. She died when I was real little. From what I know I think +my parents was industrious. Papa was a shoemaker. He worked on Sunday to +make extra money to buy things outside of what his master give them for +his family. Now I can remember that much. My papa was a bright color +like I am but not near as light as mama. He had a shop when I was little +but he wasn't 'lowed to keep it open on Sunday. I heard him tell about +working on Sundays during slavery and how much he made sometimes. He +tanned his own leather. + +"I went to Mississippi and married. Folks got grown earlier than they do +now and I married when I was a young girl 'bout seventeen. We come to +Arkansas. I sewed for white and colored. I cooked some. I taught school +in the public schools. I taught opportunity school two years. I had a +class at the church in day and at the schoolhouse at night. I had two +classes. + +"John Hays was mama's owner in Tennessee." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Lucretia Alexander + 1708 High Street. Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 89 + + +"I been married three times and my last name was Lucretia Alexander. I +was twelve years old when the War began. My mother died at seventy-three +or seventy-five. That was in August 1865--August the ninth. She was +buried August twelfth. The reason they kept her was they had refugeed +her children off to different places to keep them from the Yankees. They +couldn't get them back. My mother and her children were heir property. +Her first master was Toliver. My mother was named Agnes Toliver. She had +a boy and a girl both older than I were. My brother come home in '65. I +never got to see my sister till 1869. + +"My father died in 1881 and some say he was one hundred twelve and some +say one hundred six. His name was Beasley, John Beasley, and he went by +John Beasley till he died. + +"My mother died and left four living children. I was the youngest. + +"I got religion in 1865. I was baptized seventy-three years ago this +August. + +"I ain't got nary living child. My oldest child would have been +sixty-four if he were living. They claim my baby boy is living, but I +don't know. I have four children. + +"The first overseer I remember was named Kurt Johnson. The next was +named Mack McKenzie. The next one was named Pink Womack. And the next +was named Tom Phipps. Mean! Liked meanness! Mean a man as he could be. +I've seen him take them down and whip them till the blood run out of +them. + +"I got ten head of grandchildren. And I been grandmother to eleven head. +I been great-grandmother to twelve head of great-grandchildren. I got +one twenty-three and another nineteen or twenty. Her father's father was +in the army. She is the oldest. Lotas Robinson, my granddaughter, has +four children that are my great-grandchildren. Gayden Jenkins, my +grandson, has two girls. I got a grandson named Dan Jenkins. He is the +father of three boys. He lives in Cleveland. He got a grandson named +Mark Jenkins in Memphis who has one boy. The youngest granddaughter--I +don't remember her husband's name--has one boy. There are four +generations of us. + +"I been here. You see I took care of myself when I was young and tried +to do right. The Lord has helped me too. Yes, I am going on now. I been +here a long time but I try to take care of myself. I was out visiting +the sick last time you come here. That's the reason I missed you. I +tries to do the best I can. + +"I am stricken now with the rheumatism on one side. This hip. + +"My mother was treated well in slavery times. My father was sold five +times. Wouldn't take nothin'. So they sold him. They beat him and +knocked him about. They put him on the block and they sold him 'bout +beatin' up his master. He was a native of Virginia. The last time they +sold him they sold him down in Claiborne County, Mississippi. Just below +where I was born at. I was born in Copiah County near Hazlehurst, about +fifteen miles from Hazlehurst. My mother was born in Washington County. +Virginia. Her first master was Qualls Tolliver. Qualls moved to +Mississippi and married a woman down there and he had one son, Peachy +Toliver. After he died, he willed her to Peachy. Then Peachy went to the +Rebel army and got killed. + +"My mother's father was a free Indian named Washington. Her mother was a +slave. I don't know my father's father. He moved about so much and was +sold so many times he never did tell me his father. He got his name from +the white folks. When you're a slave you have to go by your owner's +name. + +"My master's mother took me to the house after my mother died. And the +first thing I remember doing was cleaning up. Bringing water, putting up +mosquito-bars, cooking. My master's mother was Susan Reed. I have done +everything but saw. I never sawed in my life. The hardest work I did was +after slavery. I never did no hard work during slavery. I used to pack +water for the plow hands and all such as that. But when my mother died, +my mistress took me to the house. + +"But Lawd! I've seen such brutish doin's--runnin' niggers with hounds +and whippin' them till they was bloody. They used to put 'em in stocks. +When they didn't put 'em in stocks, used to be two people would whip +'em--the overseer and the driver. The overseer would be a man named +Elijah at our house. He was just a poor white man. He had a whip they +called the BLACK SNAKE. + +"I remember one time they caught a man named George Tinsley. They put +the dogs on him and they bit 'im and tore all his clothes off of 'im. +Then they put 'im in the stocks. The stocks was a big piece of timber +with hinges in it. It had a hole in it for your head. They would lift it +up and put your head in it. There was holes for your head, hands and +feet in it. Then they would shut it up and they would lay that whip on +you and you couldn't do nothin' but wiggle and holler, 'Pray, master, +pray!' But when they'd let that man out, he'd run away again. + +"They would make the slaves work till twelve o'clock on Sunday, and then +they would let them go to church. The first time I was sprinkled, a +white preacher did it; I think his name was Williams. + +"The preacher would preach to the white folks in the forenoon and to the +colored folks in the evening. The white folks had them hired. One of +them preachers was named Hackett; another, Williams; and another, Gowan. +There was five of them but I just remember them three. One man used to +hold the slaves so late that they had to go to the church dirty from +their work. They would be sweaty and smelly. So the preacher 'buked him +'bout it. That was old man Bill Rose. + +"The niggers didn't go to the church building; the preacher came and +preached to them in their quarters. He'd just say, 'Serve your masters. +Don't steal your master's turkey. Don't steal your master's chickens. +Don't steal your master's hawgs. Don't steal your master's meat. Do +whatsomeever your master tells you to do.' Same old thing all the time. + +"My father would have church in dwelling houses and they had to whisper. +My mother was dead and I would go with him. Sometimes they would have +church at his house. That would be when they would want a real meetin' +with some real preachin'. It would have to be durin' the week nights. +You couldn't tell the difference between Baptists and Methodists then. +They was all Christians. I never saw them turn nobody down at the +communion, but I have heard of it. I never saw them turn no pots down +neither; but I have heard of that. They used to sing their songs in a +whisper and pray in a whisper. That was a prayer-meeting from house to +house once or twice--once or twice a week. + +"Old Phipps whipped me once. He aimed to kill me but I got loose. He +whipped me about a colored girl of his'n that he had by a colored woman. +Phipps went with a colored woman before he married his wife. He had a +girl named Martha Ann Phipps. I beat Martha 'bout a pair of stockings. +My mistress bought me a nice pair of stockings from the store. You see, +they used to knit the stockings. I wore the stockings once; then I +washed them and put them on the fence to dry. Martha stole them and put +them on. I beat her and took them off of her. She ran and told her +father and he ran me home. He couldn't catch me, and he told me he'd get +me. I didn't run to my father. I run to my mistress, and he knew he'd +better not do nothin' then. He said, 'I'll get you, you little old black +some thin'.' Only he didn't say 'somethin'.' He didn't get me then. + +"But one day he caught me out by his house. I had gone over that way on +an errand I needn't have done. He had two girls hold me. They was +Angeline and Nancy. They didn't much want to hold me anyhow. Some +niggers would catch you and kill you for the white folks and then there +was some that wouldn't. I got loose from them. He tried to hold me +hisself but he couldn't. I got away and went back to my old mistress and +she wrote him a note never to lay his dirty hands on me again. A little +later her brother, Johnson Chatman, came there and ran him off the +place. My old mistress' name was Susan Chatman before she married. Then +she married Toliver. Then she married Reed. She married Reed last--after +Toliver died. + +"One old lady named Emily Moorehead runned in and held my mother once +for Phipps to whip her. And my mother was down with consumption too. I +aimed to git old Phipps for that. But then I got religion and I couldn't +do it. Religion makes you forgit a heap of things. + +"Susan Reed, my old mistress, bought my father and paid fifteen hundred +dollars for him and she hadn't never seen 'im. Advertising. He had run +away so much that they had to advertise and sell 'im. He never would run +away from Miss Susan. She was good to him till she got that old nigger +beater Phipps. Her husband, Reed, was called a nigger spoiler. My father +was an old man when Phipps was on overseer and wasn't able to fight much +then. + +"Phipps sure was a bad man. He wasn't so bad neither; but the niggers +was scared of him. You know in slave times, sometimes when a master +would git too bad, the niggers would kill him--tote him off out in the +woods somewheres and git rid of him. Two or three of them would git +together and scheme it out, and then two or three of them would git him +way out and kill 'im. But they didn't nobody ever pull nothin' like +that on Phipps. They was scared of him. + +"One time I saw the Yankees a long way off. They had on blue uniforms +and was on coal black horses. I hollered out, 'Oh, I see somethin'.' My +mistress said, 'What?' I told her, and she said, 'Them's the Yankees.' +She went on in the house and I went with her. She sacked up all the +valuables in the house. She said, 'Here,' and she threw a sack of silver +on me that was so heavy that I went right on down to the ground. Then +she took hold of it and holp me up and holp me carry it out. I carried +it out and hid it. She had three buckskin sacks--all full of silver. +That wasn't now; that was in slavery times. During the War, Jeff Davis +gave out Confederate money. It died out on the folks' hands. About +twelve hundred dollars of it died out on my father's hands. But there +wasn't nothin' but gold and silver in them sacks. + +"I heard them tell the slaves they were free. A man named Captain Barkus +who had his arm off at the elbow called for the three near-by +plantations to meet at our place. Then he got up on a platform with +another man beside him and declared peace and freedom. He p'inted to a +colored man and yelled, 'You're free as I am.' Old colored folks, old as +I am now, that was on sticks, throwed them sticks away and shouted. + +"Right after freedom I stayed with that white woman I told you about. I +was with her about four years. I worked for twelve dollars a month and +my food and clothes. Then I figured that twelve dollars wasn't enough +and I went to work in the field. It was a mighty nice woman. Never hit +me in her life. I never have been whipped by a white woman. She was good +to me till she died. She died after I had my second child--a girl child. + +"I have been living in this city fifteen years. I come from Chicot +County when I come here. We come to Arkansas in slavery times. They +brought me from Copiah County when I was six or eight years old. When +Mrs. Toliver married she came up here and brought my mother. My mother +belonged to her son and she said, 'Agnes (that was my mother's name), +will you follow me if I buy your husband?' Her husband's name was John +Beasley. She said, 'Yes.' Then her old mistress bought Beasley and paid +fifteen hundred dollars to get my mother to come with her. Then Peachy +went to war and was shot because he come home of a furlough and stayed +too long. So when he went back they killed him. My mother nursed him +when he was a baby. Old man Toliver said he didn't want none of us to be +sold; so they wasn't none of us sold. Maybe there would have been if +slavery had lasted longer; but there wasn't. + +"Mother really belonged to Peachy, but when Peachy died, then she fell +to her mistress. + +"I have been a widow now for thirty years. I washed and ironed and +plowed and hoed--everything. Now I am gittin' so I ain't able to do +nothin' and the Relief keeps me alive. I worked and took care of myself +and my last husband and he died, and I ain't married since. I used to +take a little boy and make ten bales of cotton. I can't do it now. I +used to be a woman in my day. I am my mother's seventh child. + +"I don't buy no hoodoo and I don't believe in none, but a seventh child +can more or less tell you things that are a long way off. If you want to +beat the devil you got to do right. God's got to be in the plan. I tries +to do right. I am not perfect but I do the best I can. I ain't got no +bottom teeth, but my top ones are good. I have a few bottom ones. The +Lawd's keepin' me here for somepin. I been with 'im now seventy-three +years." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +I'll bet the grandest moment in the life of Sister Alexander's mother +was when her mistress said, "Agnes, will you follow me if I buy your +husband?" Fifteen hundred dollars to buy a rebellious slave in order to +unite a slave couple. It's epic. + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Ed Allen, Des Arc, Ark. +Age: ? + + +"I know that after freedom they took care of my pa and ma and give em a +home long as they lived. Ma died wid young mistress here in Des Arc. + +"The present generation is going to the bad. Have dealings wid em, not +good to you. Young folks ain't nice to you like they used to be. + +"White boys and colored boys, whole crowd of us used to go in the river +down here all together, one got in danger help him out. They don't do it +no more. We used to play base ball together. All had a good time. We +never had to buy a ball or a bat. Always had em. The white boys bought +them. I don't know as who to blame but young folk changed." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Lucindy Allison, Marked Tree, Arkansas + With children at Biscoe, Arkansas +Age: 61 + + +"Ma was a slave in Arkansas. She said she helped grade a hill and help +pile up a road between Wicksburg and Wynne. They couldn't put the road +over the hill, so they put all the slaves about to grade it down. They +don't use the road but it's still there to show for itself. + +"She was a tall rawbony woman. Ma was a Hillis and pa's name was Adam +Hillis. He learned to trap in slavery and after freedom he followed that +for a living. Ma was a sure 'nough field hand. Mama had three sets of +children. I don't know how many she did have in all. I had eleven my own +self. Grandma was named Tempy and I heard them tell about when she was +sold. She and mama went together. They used to whoop the slaves when +they didn't work up peart. + +"When the 'Old War' come on and the Yankees come they took everything +and the black men folks too. They come by right often. They would drive +up at mealtime and come in and rake up every blessed thing was cooked. +Have to go work scrape about and find something else to eat. What they +keer 'bout you being white or black? Thing they was after was filling +theirselves up. They done white folks worse than that. They burned their +cribs and fences up and their houses too about if they got mad. Things +didn't suit them. If they wanted a colored man to go in camp with them +and he didn't go, they would shoot you down like a dog. Ma told about +some folks she knowd got shot in the yard of his own quarters. + +"Us black folks don't want war. They are not war kind of folks. Slavery +wasn't right and that 'Old War' wasn't right neither. + +"When my children was all little I kept Aunt Mandy Buford till she died. +She was a old slave woman. Me and my husband and the biggest children +worked in the field. She would sit about and smoke. My boys made cob +pipes and cut cane j'ints for 'er to draw through. Red cob pipes was the +prettiest. Aunt Mandy said her master would be telling them what to do +in the field and he say to her, 'I talking to you too.' She worked right +among the men at the same kind of work. She was tall but not large. She +carried children on her right hip when she was so young she dragged that +foot when she walked. The reason she had to go with the men to the field +like she did was 'cause she wasn't no multiplying woman. She never had a +chile in all her lifetime. She said her mother nearly got in bad one +time when her sister was carrying a baby. She didn't keep up. Said the +riding boss got down, dug a hole with the hoe to lay her in it 'cause +she was so big in front. Her mother told him if he put her daughter +there in that hole she'd cop him up in pieces wid her hoe. He found he +had two to conquer and he let her be. But he had to leave 'cause he +couldn't whoop the niggers. + +"If I could think of all she tole I'd soon have enough to fill up that +book you're getting up. I can't recollect who she belong to, and her old +talk comes back to me now and then. She talked so much we'd get up and +go on off to keep from hearing her tell things over so many times. + +"Folks like me what got children think the way they do is all right. I +don't like some of my children's ways but none of us perfect. I tells +'em right far as I knows. Times what makes folks no 'count. Times gets +stiff around Biscoe. Heap of folks has plenty. Some don't have much--not +enough. Some don't have nothing. + +"I don't believe in women voting. That ruined the country. We got along +very well till they got to tinkering with the government." + + + + +Name of Interviewer: Pernella Anderson +Subject: Early Days in Caledonia--Early days in El Dorado + +Name: Josephine Ames +Occupation: Domestic +Resident: Fordville +Age: not given. +[TR: Information moved from bottom of first page.] + + +Ah wuz bo'n de first year niggers wuz free. Wuz born in Caledonia at de +Primm place. Mah ma belonged tuh George Thompson. After mah ma died ah +stayed wid de Wommacks, a while. Aftuh dat mah pa taken me home. Pa's +name wuz Jesse Flueur. Ah worked lak er slave. Ah cut wood, sawed logs, +picked 400 pounds uv cotton evah day. Ah speck ah married de first time +ah wuz about fo'teen years ole. Ah been mahrid three times. All mah +husband's is daid. Ole man England and ole man Cullens run business +places and ole man Wooley. His name wuz reason Wooley. De Woolies got +cemetery uv dey own right dar near de Cobb place. No body is buried in +dar but de fambly uv Wooleys. Ole man Allen Hale, he run er store dar +too. He is yet livin right dar. He is real ole. De ole Warren Mitchell +place whar ah use tuh live is Guvment land. Warren Mitchell, he +homesteaded the place. We lived dar and made good crops. De purtiest dar +wuz eround, but not hit's growed up. Don lived dar and made good crops. +De purtiest dar wuz eround. Dar is whah all mah chillun wuz bo'n. Ah use +tuh take mah baby an walk tuh El Dorado to sevice. Ah use tuh come tuh +El Dorado wid a oman by de name of Sue Foster. Nothin but woods when dey +laid de railroad heah. Dey built dem widh horses and axes. Ah saw em +when dey whoop de hosses and oxen till dey fall out working dem when dey +laid dat steel. Ah wuz at de first buryin uv de fust pussen buried in +Caledonia graveyard. Huh name wuz Joe Ann Polk. We set up wid huh all +night and sing and pray. An when we got nearly tuh de church de bells +started tolling and de folks started tuh singin. When evah any body died +dey ring bells tuh let yo know some body wuz daid. A wuz born on +Christmas day, an ah had two chilluns born on Christmas Day. Dey wuz +twins and one uv em had two teeth and his hair hung down on her +shoulders when hit wuz born but hit did not live but er wek. + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Charles Anderson. Helena, Arkansas +Age: 77 or 78, not sure + + +"I was born in Bloomfield, Kentucky. My parents had the same owners. +Mary and Elgin Anderson was their names. They was owned by Isaac Stone. +Davis Stone was their son. They belong to the Stones as far back as they +could remember. Mama was darker than I am. My father was brighter than I +am. He likely had a white father. I never inquired. Mama had colored +parents. Master Stone walked with a big crooked stick. He nor his son +never went to war. Masters in that country never went. Two soldiers were +drafted off our place. I saw the soldiers, plenty of them and plenty +times. There never was no serious happenings. + +"The Federal soldiers would come by, sleep in the yard, take our best +horses and leave the broken down ones. Very little money was handled. I +never seen much. Master Stone would give us money like he give money to +Davis. They prized fine stock mostly. They needed money at wheat harvest +time only. When a celebration or circus come through he give us all +twenty-five or thirty cents and told us to go. There wasn't many slaves +up there like down in this country. The owners from all I've heard was +crueler and sold them off oftener here. + +"Weaving was a thing the women prided in doing--being a fast weaver or a +fine hand at weaving. They wove pretty coverlets for the beds. I see +colored spreads now makes me think about my baby days in Kentucky. + +"Freedom was something mysterious. Colored folks didn't talk it. White +folks didn't talk it. The first I realized something different, Master +Stone was going to whip a older brother. He told mama something I was +too small to know. She said, 'Don't leave this year, son. I'm going to +leave.' Master didn't whip him. + +"Master Stone's cousin kept house for him. I remember her well. They +were all very nice to us always. He had a large farm. He had twenty +servants in his yard. We all lived there close together. My sister and +mama cooked. We had plenty to eat. We had beef in spring and summer. +Mutton and kid on special occasions. We had hog in the fall and winter. +We had geese, ducks, and chickens. We had them when we needed them. We +had a field garden. He raised corn, wheat, oats, rye, and tobacco. + +"Once a year we got dressed up. We got shirts, a suit, pants and shoes, +and what else we needed to wear. Then he told them to take care of their +clothes. They got plenty to do a year. We didn't have fine clothes no +time. We didn't eat ham and chicken. I never seen biscuit--only +sometimes. + +"I seen a woman sold. They had on her a short dress, no sleeves, so they +could see her muscles, I reckon. They would buy them and put them with +good healthy men to raise young slaves. I heard that. I was very small +when I seen that young woman sold and years later I heard that was what +was done. + +"I don't know when freedom came on. I never did know. We was five or six +years breaking up. Master Stone never forced any of us to leave. He give +some of them a horse when they left. I cried a year to go back. It was a +dear place to me and the memories linger with me every day. + +"There was no secret society or order of Ku Klux in reach of us as I +ever heard. + +"I voted Republican ticket. We would go to Jackson to vote. There would +be a crowd. The last I voted was for Theodore Roosevelt. I voted here in +Helena for years. I was on the petit jury for several years here in +Helena. + +"I farmed in your state some (Arkansas). I farmed all my young life. I +been in Arkansas sixty years. I come here February 1879 with distant +relatives. They come south. When I come to Helena there was but one set +of mechanics. I started to work. I learned to paint and hang wall paper. +I've worked in nearly every house in Helena. + +"The present times are gloomy. I tried to prepare for old age. I had a +apartment house and lost it. I owned a home and lost it. They foreclosed +me out. + +"The present generation is not doing as well as I have. + +"My health knocked me out. My limbs swell, they are stiff. I have a bad +bladder trouble. + +"I asked for help but never have got none. If I could got a little +relief I never would lost my house. They work my wife to death keeping +us from starving. She sewed till they cut off all but white ladies. When +she got sixty-five they let her go and she got a little job cooking. +They never give us no relief." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Nancy Anderson + Street H, West Memphis, Arkansas +Age: 66 + + +"I was born at Sanitobia, Mississippi. Mother died when I was a child. I +was three months old, they said, when I lost her. Father lived to be +very old. My mother was Ella Geeter and my stepmother was Lucy Evans. My +father's name was Si Hubbard. My parents married after the War. I +remembers Grandma Harriett Hubbard. She said she was sold. She was a +cook and she raised my papa up with white folks. Her children was sold +with her. Papa was sold too at the same time. Papa fired a steam gin. +They ground corn and ginned cotton. + +"I stayed with Sam Hall's family. She was good to me. I had a small bed +by the fireplace. She kept me with two of her own children. Some of the +girls and boys I was raised up with live at Sanitobia now and have fine +homes. When we would be playing they would take all the toys from me. +Miss Fannie would say, 'Poor Nancy ain't got no toys.' Then they would +put them on the floor and we would all play. They had a little table. We +all eat at it. We had our own plates. We all eat out of tin plates and +had tin cups. + +"They couldn't keep me at home when papa married. I slipped off across +the pasture. There was cows and hogs in there all the time. I wasn't +afraid of them. I would get behind Miss Fannie and hide in her dress +tail when they come after me. They let me stay most of the time for +about five years. Sam Hall was good to my father and Miss Fannie about +raised me after my mother died. She made me mind but she was good to me. + +"Grandma lived with papa. She was part Indian. As long as papa lived he +share cropped and ginned. He worked as long as he was able to hit a +lick. He died four miles east out from Sanitobia on Mr. Hayshaws place. +What I told you is what I know. He said he was sold that one time. +Hubbards had plenty to eat and wear. He was a boy and they didn't want +to stunt the children. Papa was a water boy and filed the hoes for the +chopping hands. He carried a file along with them hoeing and would +sharpen their hoes and fetch 'em water in their jugs. Aunt Sallie, his +sister, took keer of the children. + +"Papa went to the War. He could blow his bugle and give all the war +signals. He got the military training. Him and his friend Charlie Grim +used to step around and show us how they had to march to orders. His +bugle had four joints. I don't know what went with it. From what they +said they didn't like the War and was so glad to get home. + +"Between the big farms they had worm fences (rail fences) and gates. You +had to get a pass from your master to go visiting. The gates had big +chains and locks on them. Some places was tollgates where they traveled +over some man's land to town. On them roads the man owned the place +charged. He kept some boy to open and shut the gate. They said the gates +was tall. + +"Some of the slaves that had hard masters run off and stay in the woods. +They had nigger dogs and would run them--catch 'em. He said one man +(Negro) was hollowing down back of the worm fence close to where they +was working. They all run to him. A great long coachwhip snake was +wrapped 'round him, his arms and all, and whooping him with its tail. It +cut gashes like a knife and the blood poured. The overseer cut the +snake's head off with his big knife and they carried him home bleeding. +His master didn't whoop him, said he had no business off in the woods. +He had run off. His master rubbed salt in the gashes. It nearly killed +him. It burnt him so bad. That stopped the blood. They said sut (soot) +would stopped the blood but it would left black mark. The salt left +white marks on him. The salt helped kill the pison (poison). Some +masters and overseers was cruel. When they was so bad marked they didn't +bring a good price. They thought they was hard to handle. + +"Aunt Jane Peterson, old friend of mine, come to visit me nearly every +year after she got so old. She told me things took place in slavery +times. She was in Virginia till after freedom. She had two girls and a +boy with a white daddy. She told me all about how that come. She said no +chance to run off or ever get off, you had to stay and take what come. +She never got to marry till after freedom. Then she had three more black +children by her husband. She said she was the cook. Old master say, +'Jane, go to the lot and get the eggs.' She was scared to go and scared +not to go. He'd beat her out there, put her head between the slip gap +where they let the hogs into the pasture from the lot down back of the +barn. She say, 'Old missis whip me. This ain't right.' He'd laugh. Said +she bore three of his children in a room in the same house his family +lived in. She lived in the same house. She had a room so as she could +build fires and cook breakfast by four o'clock sometimes, she said. She +was so glad freedom come on and soon as she heard it she took her +children and was gone, she said. She had no use for him. She was scared +to death of him. She learned to pray and prayed for freedom. She died in +Cold Water, Mississippi. She was so glad freedom come on before her +children come on old enough to sell. Part white children sold for more +than black children. They used them for house girls. + +"I don't know Ku Klux stories enough to tell one. These old tales leave +my mind. I'm 66 and all that was before my time. + +"Times is strange--hard, too. But the way I have heard they had to work +and do and go I hardly ever do grumble. I've heard so much. I got +children and I do the best I can by them. That is all I can do or say." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: R.B. Anderson + Route 4, Box 68 (near Granite) + Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 75 + + +[HW: The Brooks-Baxter War] + +"I was born in Little Rock along about Seventeenth and Arch Streets. +There was a big plantation there then. Dr. Wright owned the plantation. +He owned my mother and father. My father and mother told me that I was +born in 1862. They didn't know the date exactly, so I put it the last +day in the year and call it December 30, 1862. + +"My father's name was William Anderson. He didn't go to the War because +he was blind. He was ignorant too. He was colored. He was a pretty good +old man when he died. + +"My mother's name was Minerva Anderson. She was three-fourths Indian, +hair way down to her waist. I was in Hot Springs blacking boots when my +mother died. I was only about eight or ten years old then. I always +regretted I wasn't able to do anything for my mother before she died. I +don't know to what tribe her people belonged. + +"Dr. Wright was awful good to his slaves. + +"I don't know just how freedom came to my folks. I never heard my father +say. They were set free, I know. They were set free when the War ended. +They never bought their freedom. + +"We lived on Tenth and near to Center in a one-room log house. That is +the earliest thing I remember. When they moved from there, my father had +accumulated enough to buy a home. He bought it at Seventh and Broadway. +He paid cash for it--five hundred and fifty dollars. That is where we +all lived until it was sold. I couldn't name the date of the sale but it +was sold for good money--about three thousand eight hundred dollars, or +maybe around four thousand. I was a young man then. + +"I remember the Brooks-Baxter War. + +"I remember the King White fooled a lot of niggers and armed them and +brought them up here. The niggers and Republicans here fought them and +run them back where they come from. + +"I know Hot Springs when the main street was a creek. I can't remember +when I first went there. The government bath-house was called 'Ral +Hole', because it was mostly people with bad diseases that went there. + +"After the War, my father worked for a rich man named Hunter. He was +yardman and took care of the horse. My mother was living then. + +"Scipio Jones and I were boys together. We slept on pool tables many a +time when we didn't have no other place to sleep. He was poor when he +was a boy and glad to get hold of a dime, or a nickel. He and I don't +speak today because he robbed me. I had a third interest in my place. I +gave him money to buy my place in for me. It was up for sale and I +wanted to get possession. He gave me some papers to sign and when I +found out what was happening, he had all my property. My wife kept me +from killing him." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +Occupation: Grocer, bartender, porter, general work + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Sarah Anderson + 3815 W. Second Avenue, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 78? + + +"I don't know when I was born. When the Civil War ended, I was bout four +or five years old. + +"I jes' remember when the people come back--the soldiers--when the War +ended. We chillun run under the house. That was the Yankees. + +"I was born in Bibb County, Georgia. That's where I was bred and born. + +"I been in Arkansas ever since I was fourteen. That was shortly after +the Civil War, I reckon. We come here when they was emigratin' to +Arkansas. I'm tellin' you the truth, I been here a long time. + +"I member when the soldiers went by and we chillun run under the house. +It was the Yankee cavalry, and they made so much noise. Dat's what the +old folks told us. I member dat we run under the house and called our +self hidin'. + +"My master was Madison Newsome and my missis was Sarah Newsome. Named +after her? Must a done it. Ma and her chillun was out wallowin' in the +dirt when the Yankees come by. Sometimes I stayed in the house with my +white folks all night. + +"My mother and father say they was well treated. That's what they say. + +"Old folks didn't low us chillun round when they was talkin' bout their +business, no ma'am. + +"We stayed with old master a good while after freedom--till they +commenced emigratin' from Georgia to Arkansas. Yes ma'am! + +"I'm the mother of fourteen chillun--two pairs of twins. I married +young--bout fifteen or sixteen, I reckon. I married a young fellow. I +say we was just chaps. After he died, I married a old settled man and +now he's dead. + +"I been livin' a pretty good life. Seems like the white folks just +didn't want me to get away from their chillun. + +"All my chillun dead cept one son. He was a twin." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Selie Anderson, Holly Grove, Arkansas +Age: 78 + + +"I was born near Decatur, Alabama and lived there till I was fifteen +years old. Course I members hearin' em talk bout Mars Newt. I named fur +my ma's old mistress--Miss Selie Thompson and Mars Newt Thompson. Pa +died when I was three years old. He was a soldier. Ma had seven +children. They have bigger families then than they have now. Ma name +Emmaline Thompson. Pa name Sam Adair. I can't tell you about him. I +heard em say his pa was a white man. He was light skinned. Old folks +didn't talk much foe children so I don't know well nough to tell you +bout him. Ma was a cook and a licensed midwife in Alabama. She waited on +both black and white. Ma never staid at home much. She worked out. I +come to Mississippi after I married and had one child. Ma and all come. +Ma went to Tom McGehee's to cook after freedom. She married old man +named Lewis Chase and they worked on where he had been raised. His name +was Lewis Sprangle. He looked after the stock and drove the carriage. +Daniel Sprangle had a store and a big farm. He had three girls and three +boys, I was their house girl. Mama lived on the place and give me to em +cause they could do better part by me than she could. I was six years +old when she give me to em. They lernt me to sweep, knit, crochet, piece +quilts. She lernt her children thater way sometimes. Miss Nancy Sprangle +didn't treat me no different from her own girls. Miss Dora married Mr. +Pitt Loney and I was dressed up and held up her train (long dress and +veil). I stayed with Miss Dora after she married. One of the girls +married Mr. John Galbreth. I married and went home then come to +Mississippi. Mrs. Gables, Mr. Gables was old people but they had two +adopted boys. I took them boys to the field to work wid my children. She +sewed for me and my children. Her girls cooked all we et in busy times. +They done work at the house but they didn't work in the field. + +"I been married five times. Every time I married I married at home. +Mighty little marryin' goin' on now--mighty little. Mama stayed wid Mr. +Sprangle till we all got grown. Miss Nancy's girls married so that all +the way I knowd how to do. I had a good time. I danced every chance I +got. I been well blessed all my life till I'm gettin' feeble now. + +"Papa run the gin on Mr. Sprangle's place, then he went to war, come +back foe he died. I recken he come home sick cause he died pretty soon. + +"I jess can member this Ku Klux broke down our door wid hatchets. It +scared us all to death. They didn't do nuthin' to us. They was huntin' +Uncle Jeff. He wasn't bout our house. He was ox driver fer Mr. Sprangle. +Him and a family of pore white folks got to fussin' bout a bridle. Some +of em was dressed up when they come to our house ma said. After that Mr. +Kirby killed him close to his home startin' out one mornin' to work. His +name was Uncle Jeff Saxon. Ma knowd it was some of the men right on Mr. +Sprangle's place whut come to our house. + +"I live wid my daughter. I get $8 from the Welfare. + +"If they vote for better it be all right. I never seen no poles. I don't +know how they vote. I'm too old to start up votin'. + +"Lawd you got me now. The times changed and got so fast. It all beyond +me. I jes' listens. I don't know whut goner happen to this young +generation." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: W.A. Anderson (dark brown) + 3200 W. 18th Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 78 +Occupation: House and yard man + + +[HW: Serves the "Lawd"] + +"I don't know nothin' about slavery. You know I wouldn't know nothin' +bout it cause I was only four years old when the war ended. All I know +is I was born in slavery; but I don't know nothin' bout it. + +"I don't remember nothin' of my parents. Times was all confused and old +folks didn't talk before chilun. They didn't have time. Besides, my +mother and father were separated. + +"I was born in Arkansas and have lived here all my life. But I don't +gossip and entertain. I just moved in this house last week. Took a +wheelbarrow and brought all these things here myself. + +"Those boys out there jus' threw a stone against the house. I thought +the house was falling. I work all day and when night comes, I'm tired. + +"I don't have no wife, no children, nothin'; nobody to help me out. I +don't ask the neighbors nothin' cept to clear out this junk they left +here. + +"I ain't goin' to talk about the Ku Klux. I got other things to think +about. It takes all my time and strength to do my work and live a +Christian. Folks got so nowadays they don't care bout nothin'. I just +live here and serve the Lawd." + + +Interviewer's Comments + +Anderson is separated from his wife who left him. He lost his home a +short time ago. A few months ago, he was so sick he was expected to die. +He supports himself through the friendliness of a few white people who +give him odds and ends of work to do. + +I made three calls on him, helped him set up his stoves and his beds and +clear up his house a little bit since he had just moved into it and had +a good deal of work to do. His misfortunes have made him unwilling to +talk just now, but he will give a good interview later I am certain. + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Henry Anthony; R.F.D. #1 Biscoe, Arkansas +Age: 84 + + +"I was born at Jackson, North Carolina. My master and mistress named +Betsy and Jason Williams but my pa's name was Anthony. My young master +was a orderly seargent. He took me wid him to return some mules and +wagons. He showed me what he want done an I followed him round wid +wagons. The wagons hauled ammunition and provisions. Pa worked for the +master and ma cooked. They got sold to Lausen Capert. When freedom come +they went back and stayed a month or two at Williams then we all went +back to John Odom. We stayed round close and farmed and worked till they +died. I married and when I had four or five children I heard ob dis +country. I come on immigration ticket to Mr. Aydelott here at Biscoe. +Train full of us got together and come. One white man got us all up and +brought us here to Biscoe. I farmed for Mr. Aydelott four or five years, +then for Mr. Bland, Mr. Scroggin. + +"I never went to school a day in my life. I used to vote here in Biseoe +right smart. I let the young folks do my votin. They can tell more about +it. I sho do not think it is the woman's place to vote an hold all the +jobs from the men. Iffen you don't in the Primary cause you don't know +nuf to pick out a man, you sho don't know nuthin er tall bout votin in +the General lection. In fact it ain't no good to our race nohow. + +"The whole world gone past my judgment long ago. I jess sets round to +see what they say an do next. It is bad when you caint get work you able +to do on that's hard on the old folks. I could saved. I did save right +smart. Sickness come on. Sometimes you have a bad crop year, make +nuthin, but you have to live on. Young folks don't see no hard times if +they keep well an able to work. + +"I get commodities and $6 a month. I do a little if I can. + +"One time my son bought a place fo me and him. He paid all cept $70. I +don't know whut it cost now. It was 47 acres. I worked on it three +years. He sold it and went to the sawmill. He say he come out square on +it. I didn't wanter sell it but he did." + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Katie Arbery + 815 W. Thirteenth, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 80 + + +"I am eighty years old. My name 'fore I was a Arbery was Baxter. My +mother was a Baxter. Born in Union County. + +"My mother's first people was Baxter and my grandmother was a Baxter and +they just went by that name; she never did change her name. + +"The boss man--that was what they called our master--his name was Paul +McCall. He was married twice. His oldest son was Jim McCall. He was in +the War. Yes ma'am, the Civil War. + +"Paul McCall raised me up with his chillun and I never did call him +master, just called him pappy, and Jim McCall, I called him brother Jim. +Just raised us all up there in the yard. My grandmother was the cook. + +"There wasn't no fightin' in Union County but I 'member when the Yankees +was goin' through and singin' + + 'The Union forever, hurrah, boys, hurrah + We'll rally 'round the flag, boys, + Shouting the battle cry of freedom.' + +(She sang this--ed.) + +And I 'member this one good: + + 'Old buckwheat cakes and good strong butter + To make your lips go flip, flip, flutter. + Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land.' + +"Pappy used to play that on his fiddle and have us chillun tryin' to +dance. Used to call us chillun and say, 'You little devils, come up here +and dance' and have us marchin'. + +"My cousin used to be a quill blower. Brother Jim would cut fishin' +canes and plat 'em together--they called 'em a pack--five in a row, just +like my fingers. Anybody that knowed how could sure make music on 'em. +Tom Rollins, that was my baby uncle, he was a banjo picker. + +"I can remember a heap a things that happened, but 'bout slavery, I +didn't know one day from another. They treated us so nice that when they +said freedom come, I thought I was always free. + +"I heered my grandmother talk about sellin' 'em, but I was just a little +kid and I didn't know what they was talkin' about. I heered 'em say, +'Did you know they sold Aunt Sally away from her baby?' I heered 'em +talkin', I know that much. + +"After freedom, our folks stayed right on Paul McCall's place. My +grandmother cooked for the McCalls till I was eight or nine years old, +then she cooked for the McCrays--they was all relatives--till I was +twenty-one. Then I married. + +"Paul McCall first married in the Baxter family and then he married into +the McCray family. I lived on the McCall place till I was grown. They +all come from Alabama. Yes'm, they come befo' the war was. + +"Chillun in dem days paid attention. People _raised_ chillun in dem +days. Folks just feeds 'em now and lets 'em grow up. + +"I looks at the young race now and they is as wise as rabbits. + +"I never went to school but three months, but I never will forget that +old blue back McGuffey's. Sam Porter was our teacher and I was scared of +him. I was so scared I couldn't learn nothin'. + +"As far as I can remember I have been treated nice everywhere I been. +Ain't none of the white folks ever mistreated me. + +"Lord, we had plenty to eat in slavery days--and freedom days too. + +"One time when my mother was cookin' for Colonel Morgan and my oldest +brother was workin' some land, my mother always sent me over with a +bucket of milk for him. So one day she say. 'Snooky, come carry your +brother's milk and hurry so he can have it for dinner.' I was goin' +across a field; that was a awful deer country. I had on a red dress and +was goin' on with my milk when I saw a old buck lookin' at me. All at +once he went 'whu-u-u', and then the whole drove come up. There was +mosely trees (I think she must have meant mimosa--ed.) in the field and +I run and climbed up in one of 'em. A mosely tree grows crooked; I don't +care how straight you put it in the ground, it's goin' to grow crooked. +So I climb up in the mosely tree and begin to yell. My brother heard me +and come 'cause he knowed what was up. He used to say, 'Now, Snipe, when +you come 'cross that mosely field, don't you wear that old red dress +'cause they'll get you down and tear that dress off you.' I liked the +dress 'cause he had give it to me. I had set the milk down at the foot +of the tree and it's a wonder they didn't knock it over, but when my +brother heard me yell he come a runnin', with a gun and shot one of the +deer. I got some of the venison and he give some to Colonel Morgan, his +boss man. Colonel Morgan had fought in the war. + +"The reason I can't tell you no more is, since I got old my mind goes +this and that a way. + +"But I can tell you all the doctors that doctored on me. They give me up +to die once. I had the chills from the first of one January to the next +We had Dr. Chester and Dr. McCray and Dr. Lewis--his name was Perry--and +Dr. Green and Dr. Smead. Took quinine till I couldn't hear, and finally +Dr. Green said, 'We'll just quit givin' her medicine, looks like she's +goin' to die anyway.' And then Dr. Lewis fed me for three weeks steady +on okra soup cooked with chicken. Just give me the broth. Then I +commenced gettin' better and here I am. + +"But I can't work like I used to. When I was young I could work right +along with the men but I can't do it now. I wish I could 'cause they's a +heap a things I'd like that my chillun and grandchillun can't get for +me. + +"Well, good-bye, come back again sometime." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Campbell Armstrong + 802 Schiller Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 86 + + +[HW: Boys liked corn shuckings] + +"I couldn't tell you when I was born. I was born a good while before +freedom. I was a boy about ten years old in the time of the Civil War. +That would make me about eighty-five or six years old. + +"My father's name was Cy Armstrong. My mother's name was Gracie +Armstrong. I don't know the names of my grandparents. They was gone when +I got here. My sister died right there in the corner of the next room. + + +House and Furniture + +"I used to live in an old log house. Take dirt and dob the cracks. The +floors were these here planks. We had two windows and one door. That was +in Georgia, in Houston County, on old Dempsey Brown's place. I know +him--know who dug his grave. + +"They had beds nailed up to the side of the house. People had a terrible +time you know. White folks had it all. When I come along they had it and +they had it ever since I been here. You didn't have no chance like folks +have nowadays. Just made benches and stools to sit on. Made tables out +of planks. I never saw any cupboards and things like that. Them things +wasn't thought about then. The house was like a stable then. But them +log houses was better than these 'cause the wind couldn't get through +them. + + +Work as a Boy + +"I wasn't doin' nothin' but totin' water. I toted water for a whole year +when I was a boy about eight years old. I was the water boy for the +field hands. Later I worked out in the fields myself. They would make me +sit on my mammy's row to help keep her up. + + +Free Negroes + +"You better not say you were free them days. If you did, they'd tell you +to get out of there. You better not stop on this side of the Mason Dixie +Line either. You better stop on the other side. Whenever a nigger got so +he couldn't mind, they'd take him down and whip him. They'd whip the +free niggers just the same as they did the slaves. + + +Marriage + +"You see that broom there? They just lay that broom down and step over +it. That was all the marriage they knowed about. + + +Corn Shuckings + +"The boys used to just get down and raise a holler and shuck that corn. +Man, they had fun! They sure liked to go to those corn shuckings. They +danced and went on. They'd give 'em whiskey too. That's all I know about +it. + + +Rations + +"They'd weigh the stuff out and give it to you and you better not go +back. They'd give you three pounds of meat and a quart of meal and +molasses when they'd make it. Sometimes they would take a notion to give +you something like flour. But you had to take what they give you. They +give out the rations every Saturday. That was to last you a week. + + +Patrollers + +"I was at a ball one night. They had fence rails in the fire. Patroller +knocked at the door, stepped in and closed it behind him. Nigger pulled +a rail out of the fire and stuck it 'gainst the patroller and that +patroller stepped aside and let that nigger get by. Niggers used to tie +ropes across the road so that the patrollers' horses would trip up. + + +Mulattoes + +"I never seed any mulattoes then. That thing is something that just come +up. Old Dempsey Brown, if he seed a white man goin' 'round with the +nigger women on his place, he run him away from there. But that's gwine +on in the full now. + +"That ought not to be. If God had wanted them people to mix, he'd have +mixed 'em. God made 'em red and white and black. And I'm goin' to stay +black. I ain't climbed the fence yet and I won't climb it now. I don't +know. I don't believe in that. If you are white be white, and if you are +black be black. Children need to go out and play but these boys ought +not to be 'lowed to run after these girls. + + +Whippings + +"Your overseer carried their straps with them. They had 'em with 'em all +the time. Just like them white folks do down to the County Farm. Used to +use a man just like he was a beast. They'd make him lay down on the +ground and whip him. They'd had to shoot me down. That is the reason I +tend to my business. If he wouldn't lay down they'd call for help and +strap him down and stretch him out. Put one man on one arm and another +on the other. They'd pull his clothes down and whip the blood out of +him. Them people didn't care what they done since they didn't do right. + + +Freedom + +"When I first heard them talking about freedom, I didn't know what +freedom was. I was there standin' right up and looking at 'em when they +told us we was free. And master said, 'You all free now. You can go +where you want to.' + +"They never give you a thing when they freed you. They give you some +work to do. They never looked for nothin' only to go to work. The white +folks always had the best of it. + +"When Abe Lincoln first freed 'em, they all stood together. If this one +was ill the others went over and sit up with him. If he needed something +they'd carry it to him. They don't do that now. They done well then. As +soon as they quit standing together then they had trouble. + + +Wages Then + +"Fellow said to me, 'Campbell, I want you to split up them blocks and +pile 'em up for me.' I said, 'What you goin' to pay me?' He said, 'I'll +pay you what is right.' I said, 'That won't do; you have to tell me what +you goin' to give me before I start to work.' And he said to me, 'You +can git to hell out of here.' + + +Selling and Buying Slaves + +"They'd put you up on the block and sell you. That is just what they'd +do--sell you. These white folks will do anything,--anything they want to +do. They'd take your clothes off just like you was some kind of a beast. + +"You used to be worth a thousand dollars then, but you're not worth two +bits now. You ain't worth nothin' when you're free. + + +Refugees--Jeff Davis + +"They used to come to my place in droves. Wagons would start coming in +in the morning and they wouldn't stop coming in till two or three in the +evening. They'd just be travelin' to keep out the way of the Yankees. +They caught old Jeff Davis over in Twiggs County. That's in Georgia. +Caught him in Buzzard's Roost. That was only about four or five miles +from where I was. I was right down yonder in Houston County. Twigg +County and Houston County is adjoinin'. I never saw any of the soldiers +but they was following them though. + + +Voters + +"I have seen plenty of niggers voting. I wasn't old enough to vote in +Georgia. I come in Arkansas and I found out how the folks used +themselves and I come out that business. They was selling themselves +just like cattle and I wouldn't have nothing to do with that. + +"I knew Jerry Lawson, who was Justice of Peace. He was a nigger, a +low-down devil. Man, them niggers done more dirt in this city. The +Republicans had this city and state. I went to the polls and there was +very few white folks there. I knew several of them niggers--Mack +Armstrong, he was Justice of Peace. I can't call the rest of them. +Nothing but old thieves. If they had been people, they'd been honest. +Wouldn't sell their brother. It is bad yet. They still stealin' yet. + + +Ku Klux + +"That's another devil. Man, I'll tell you we seen terrible times. I +don't know nothing much about 'em myself. I know one thing. Abe Lincoln +said, 'Kill him wherever you see him.' + + +Self-Support and Support of Aged Slaves in Slave Times + +"A white man asked me how much they givin' me. I said, 'Eight dollars.' +He said, 'You ought to be gittin' twenty-five.' I said, 'Maybe I ought +to be but I ain't.' + +"I ain't able to do no work now. I ain't able to tote that wood hardly. +I don't git as much consideration as they give the slaves back yonder. +They didn't make the old people in slavery work when they was my age. My +daddy when he was my age, they turned him out. They give him a rice +patch where he could make his rice. When he died, he had a whole lot of +rice. They stopped putting all the slaves out at hard labor when they +got old. That's one thing. White folks will take care of their old ones. +Our folks won't do it. They'll take a stick and kill you. They don't +recognize you're human. Their parents don't teach them. Folks done quit +teaching their children. They don't teach them the right thing no more. +If they don't do, then they ought to make them do. + + +Little Rock + +"I been here about twenty years in Little Rock. I went and bought this +place and paid for it. Somebody stole seventy-five dollars from me right +here in this house. And that got me down. I ain't never been able to git +up since. + +"I paid a man for what he did for me. He said, 'Well, you owe me fifteen +cents.' When he got done he said, 'You owe me fifty cents.' You can't +trust a man in the city. + +"I was living down in England. That's a little old country town. I come +here to Little Rock where I could be in a city. I done well. I bought +this place. + +"I reckon I lived in Arkansas about thirty years before I left and come +here to Little Rock. When I left Georgia, I come to Arkansas and settled +down in Lonoke County, made crops there. I couldn't tell you how long I +stayed there. I didn't keep no record of it at all. I come out of Lonoke +County and went into Jefferson. + +"Man, I was never in such shape as I am in now. That devilish stock law +killed me. It killed all the people. Nobody ain't been able to do +nothin' since they passed the stock law. I had seventy-five hogs and +twenty cows. They made a law you had to keep them chickens up, keep them +hogs up, keep them cows up. They shoots at every right thing, and the +wrong things they don't shoot at. God don't uphold no man to set you up +in the jail when you ain't done nothin'. You didn't have no privilege +then (slave time), and you ain't got none now." + + + + +Interviewer: Pernella Anderson, colored. + +El Dorado Division +Federal Writers' Project +Union County. Arkansas + + +_EX-SLAVE AND RIDDLES_ + +"I was born in the Junction city community and belonged to the Cooks. I +was ten years old at surrender. Mother and father had 12 children and we +lived in a one room log cabin and cooked on a fireplace and oven. Mos +and Miss Cook did not allow ma and pa to whip me. When ever I do +something and I knew I was going to get a whipping I would make it to +old Miss. She would keep me from getting that whipping. I was a devilish +boy. I would do everything in the world I could think of just for +devilment. Old mos was sure good to his slaves. I never went to school +a day in my life. Old Miss would carry me to church sometimes when it +was hot so we could fan for her. We used palmeter fan leaves for fans. +We ate pretty good in slavery time, but we did not have all of this late +stuff. Some of our dishes was possum stew, vegetables, persimmon pie and +tato bread. Ma did not allow us to sit around grown folks. When they +were talking she always made us get under the bed. Our bed was made from +pine poles. We children slept on pallets on the floor. The way slaves +married in slavery time they jumped over the broom and when they +separated they jumped backward over the broom. Times were better in +slavery time to my notion than they are now because they did not go +hungry, neither necked. They ate common and wore one kind of clothes." + +A duck, a bullfrog and a skunk went to a circus, the duck and the +bullfrog got in, why didn't the skunk get in? + +(Answer). The duck had a bill, the bullfrog had a greenback but the +skunk had nothing but a scent. + +If your father's sister is not your aunt what kin is she to you? (your +mother). + +What is the difference between a four quart measure and a side saddle? +(Answer). They both hold a gallon. (a gal on) + + +--Cora Armstrong, colored. + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Lillie Baccus, Madison, Arkansas +Age: 73 + + +"I'll tell you what I heard. I was too little to remember the Civil War. +Mama's owner was ---- Dillard. She called him 'Master' Dillard. Papa's +owner was ---- Smith. He called him 'Master' Smith. Mama was named Ann +and papa Arthur Smith. I was born at West Point, Mississippi. I heard ma +say she was sold. She said Pattick sold her. She had to leave her two +children Cherry and Ann. Mama was a field hand. So was grandma yet she +worked in the house some she said. After freedom Cherry and Ann come to +mama. She was going to be sold agin but was freed before sold. + +"Mama didn't live only till I was about three years old, so I don't know +enough to tell you about her. Grandma raised us. She was sold twice. She +said she run out of the house to pick up a star when the stars fell. +They showered down and disappeared. + +"The Yankees camped close to where they lived, close to West Point, +Mississippi, but in the country close to an artesian well. The well was +on their place. The Yankees stole grandma and kept her at their tent. +They meant to take her on to wait on them and use but when they started +to move old master spicioned they had her hid down there. He watched out +and seen her when they was going to load her up. He went and got the +head man to make them give her up. She was so glad to come home. Glad to +see him cause she wanted to see him. They watched her so close she was +afraid they would shoot her leaving. She lived to be 101 years old. She +raised me. She used to tell how the overseer would whip her in the +field. They wasn't good to her in that way. + +"I have three living children and eleven dead. I married twice. My first +husband is living. My second husband is dead. I married in day time in +the church the last time. All else ever took place in my life was hard +work. I worked in the field till I was too old to hit a tap. I live wid +my children. I get $8 and commodities. + +"I come to Arkansas because they said money was easy to get--growed on +bushes. I had four little children to make a living for and they said it +was easier. + +"I think people is better than they was long time ago. Times is harder. +People have to buy everything they have as high as they is, makes money +scarce nearly bout a place as hen's teeth. Hens ain't got no teeth. We +don't have much money I tell you. The Welfare gives me $8." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Joseph Samuel Badgett + 1221 Wright Avenue, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 72 + + +[HW: Mother was a Fighter] + +"My mother had Indian in her. She would fight. She was the pet of the +people. When she was out, the pateroles would whip her because she +didn't have a pass. She has showed me scars that were on her even till +the day that she died. She was whipped because she was out without a +pass. She could have had a pass any time for the asking, but she was too +proud to ask. She never wanted to do things by permission. + + +Birth + +"I was born in 1864. I was born right here in Dallas County. Some of the +most prominent people in this state came from there. I was born on +Thursday, in the morning at three o'clock, May the twelfth. My mother +has told me that so often, I have it memorized. + + +Persistence of Slave Customs + +"While I was a slave and was born close to the end of the Civil War, I +remember seeing many of the soldiers down here. I remember much of the +treatment given to the slaves. I used to say 'master' myself in my day. +We had to do that till after '69 or '70. I remember the time when I +couldn't go nowhere without asking the 'white folks.' I wasn't a slave +then but I couldn't go off without asking the white people. I didn't +know no better. + +"I have known the time in the southern part of this state when if you +wanted to give an entertainment you would have to ask the white folks. +Didn't know no better. For years and years, most of the niggers just +stayed with the white folks. Didn't want to leave them. Just took what +they give 'em and didn't ask for nothing different. + +"If I had known forty years ago what I know now! + + +First Negro Doctor in Tulip, Arkansas + +"The first Negro doctor we ever seen come from Little Rock down to +Tulip, Arkansas. We were all excited. There were plenty of people who +didn't have a doctor living with twenty miles of them. When I was +fourteen years old, I was secretary of a conference. + + +Schooling + +"What little I know, an old white woman taught me. I started to school +under this old woman because there weren't any colored teachers. There +wasn't any school at Tulip where I lived. This old lady just wanted to +help. I went to her about seven years. She taught us a little every +year--'specially in the summer time. She was high class--a high class +Christian woman--belonged to the Presbyterian church. Her name was Mrs. +Gentry Wiley. + +"I went to school to Scipio Jones once. Then they opened a public school +at Tulip and J.C. Smith taught there two years in the summer time. Then +Lula Baily taught there one year. She didn't know no more than I did. +Then Scipio came. He was there for a while. I don't remember just how +long. + +"After that I went to Pine Bluff. The County Judge at that time had the +right to name a student from each district. I was appointed and went up +there in '82 and '83 from my district. It took about eight years to +finish Branch Normal at that time. I stayed there two years. I roomed +with old man John Young. + +"You couldn't go to school without paying unless you were sent by the +Board. We lived in the country and I would go home in the winter and +study in the summer. Professor J.C. Corbin was principal of the Pine +Bluff Branch Normal at that time. Dr. A.H. Hill, Professor Booker, and +quite a number of the people we consider distinguished were in school +then. They finished, but I didn't. I had to go to my mother because she +was ill. I don't claim to have no schooling at all. + + +"Forty Acres and a Mule" + +"My mother received forty acres of land when freedom came. Her master +gave it to her. She was given forty acres of land and a colt. There is +no more to tell about that. It was just that way--a gift of forty acres +of land and a colt from her former master. + +"My mother died. There is a woman living now that lost it (the home). +Mother let Malinda live on it. Mother lived with the white folks +meanwhile. She didn't need the property for herself. She kept it for us. +She built a nice log house on it. Fifteen acres of it was under +cultivation when it was given to her. My sister lived on it for a long +time. She mortgaged it in some way I don't know how. I remember when the +white people ran me down there some years back to get me to sign a title +to it. I didn't have to sign the paper because the property had been +deeded to Susan Badgett and HEIRS; lawyers advised me not to sign it. +But I signed it for the sake of my sister. + + +Father and Master + +"My mother's master was named Badgett--Captain John Badgett. He was a +Methodist preacher. Some of the Badgetts still own property on Main +Street. My mother's master's father was my daddy. + + +Marriage + +"I was married July 12, 1889. Next year I will have been married fifty +years. My wife's name was Elizabeth Owens. She was born in Batesville, +Mississippi. I met her at Brinkley when she was visiting her aunt. We +married in Brinkley. Very few people in this city have lived together +longer than we have. July 12, 1938, will make forty-nine years. By July +1939, we will have reached our fiftieth anniversary. + + +Patrollers, Jayhawkers, Ku Klux, and Ku Klux Klan + +"Pateroles, Jayhawkers, and the Ku Klux came before the war. The Ku Klux +in slavery times were men who would catch Negroes out and keep them if +they did not collect from their masters. The Pateroles would catch +Negroes out and return them if they did not have a pass. They whipped +them sometimes if they did not have a pass. The Jayhawkers were highway +men or robbers who stole slaves among other things. At least, that is +the way the people regarded them. The Jayhawkers stole and pillaged, +while the Ku Klux stole those Negroes they caught out. The word 'Klan' +was never included in their name. + +"The Ku Klux Klan was an organization which arose after the Civil War. +It was composed of men who believed in white supremacy and who regulated +the morals of the neighborhood. They were not only after Jews and +Negroes, but they were sworn to protect the better class of people. They +took the law in their own hands. + + +Slave Work + +"I'm not so certain about the amount of work required of slaves. My +mother says she picked four hundred pounds of cotton many a day. The +slaves were tasked and given certain amounts to accomplish. I don't know +the exact amount nor just how it was determined. + + +Opinions + +"It is too bad that the young Negroes don't know what the old Negroes +think and what they have done. The young folks could be helped if they +would take advice." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +Badgett's distinctions between jayhawkers, Ku Klux, patrollers, and Ku +Klux Klan are most interesting. + +I have been slow to catch it. All my life, I have heard persons with +ex-slave background refer to the activities of the Ku Klux among slaves +prior to 1865. I always thought that they had the Klux Klan and the +patrollers confused. + +Badgett's definite and clear-cut memories, however, lead me to believe +that many of the Negroes who were slaves used the word Ku Klux to denote +a type of persons who stole slaves. It was evidently in use before it +was applied to the Ku Klux Klan. + +The words "Ku Klux" and "Ku Klux Klan" are used indiscriminately in +current conversation and literature. It is also true that many persons +in the present do, and in the past did, refer to the Ku Klux Klan simply +as "Ku Klux." + +It is a matter of record that the organization did not at first bear the +name "Ku Klux Klan" throughout the South. The name "Ku Klux" seems to +have grown in application as the organization changed from a moral +association of the best citizens of the South and gradually came under +the control of lawless persons with lawless methods--whipping and +murdering. It is antecedently reasonable that the change in names +accompanying a change in policy would be due to a fitness in the prior +use of the name. + +The recent use of the name seems mostly imitation and propaganda. + +Histories, encyclopedias, and dictionaries, in general, do not record a +meaning of the term Ku Klux as prior to the Reconstruction period. + + + + +Circumstances of Interview + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor + +ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas + +DATE--December, 1938 + +SUBJECT--Ex-slave + +1. Name and address of informant--Jeff Bailey, 713 W. Ninth Street, +Little Rock. + +2. Date and time of interview-- + +3. Place of interview--713 W. Ninth Street, Little Rock. + +4. Name and address of person, if any, who put you in touch with +informant-- + +5. Name and address of person, if any, accompanying you-- + +6. Description of room, house, surroundings, etc. + + +Personal History of Informant + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor + +ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas + +DATE--December, 1938 + +SUBJECT--Ex-slave + +NAME AND ADDRESS OF INFORMANT--Jeff Bailey, 713 W. Ninth Street, Little +Rock. + + +1. Ancestry--father, Jeff Wells; mother, Tilda Bailey. + +2. Place and date of birth--born in 1861 in Monticello, Arkansas. + +3. Family-- + +4. Places lived in, with dates--reared in Monticello. Lived in Pine +Bluff thirty-two years, then moved to Little Rock and has lived here +thirty-two years. + +5. Education, with dates-- + +6. Occupations and accomplishments, with dates--Hostler + +7. Special skills and interests-- + +8. Community and religious activities-- + +9. Description of informant-- + +10. Other points gained in interview-- + + + +Text of Interview (Unedited) + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor + +ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas + +DATE--December, 1938 + +SUBJECT-Ex-slave + +NAME AND ADDRESS OF INFORMANT--Jeff Bailey, 713 W. Ninth Street, Little +Rock. + + +[HW: A Hostler's Story] + +"I was born in Monticello. I was raised there. Then I came up to Pine +Bluff and stayed there thirty-two years. Then I came up here and been +here thirty-two years. That is the reason the white folks so good to me +now. I been here so long, I been a hostler all my life. I am the best +hostler in this State. I go down to the post office they give me money. +These white folks here is good to me. + +"What you writing down? Yes, that's what I said. These white folks like +me and they good to me. They give me anything I want. You want a drink? +That's the best bonded whiskey money can buy. They gives it to me. Well, +if you don't want it now, come in when you do. + +"I lost my wife right there in that corner. I was married just once. +Lived with her forty-three years. She died here five months ago. Josie +Bailey! The white folks thought the world and all of her. That is +another reason they give me so much. She was one of the best women I +ever seen. + +"I gits ten dollars a month. The check comes right up to the house. I +used to work with all them money men. Used to handle all them horses at +the post office. They ought to give me sixty-five dollars but they +don't. But I gits along. God is likely to lemme live ten years longer. I +worked at the post office twenty-two years and don't git but ten dollars +a month. They ought to gimme more. + +"My father's name was Jeff Wells. My mother's name was Tilda Bailey. She +was married twice. I took her master's name. Jeff Wells was my father's +name. Governor Bailey ought to give me somethin'. I got the same name he +has. I know him. + +"My father's master was Stanley--Jeff Stanley. That was in slavery time. +That was my slave time people. I was just a little bit of a boy. I am +glad you are gittin' that to help the colored people out. Are they goin' +to give the old slaves a pension? What they want to ask all these +questions for then? Well, I guess there's somethin' else besides money +that's worth while. + +"My father's master was a good man. He was good to him. Yes Baby! Jeff +Wells, that my father's name. I was a little baby settin' in the basket +'round in the yard and they would put the cotton all 'round me. They +carried me out where they worked and put me in the basket. I couldn't +pick no cotton because I was too young. When they got through they would +put me in that big old wagon and carry me home. There wasn't no trucks +then. Jeff Wells (that was my father), when they got through pickin' the +cotton, he would say, 'Put them children in the wagon; pick 'em up and +put 'em in the wagon.' I was a little bitty old boy. I couldn't pick no +cotton then. But I used to pick it after the surrender. + +"I remember what they said when they freed my father. They said, 'You're +free. You children are free. Go on back there and work and let your +children work. Don't work them children too long. You'll git pay for +your work.' That was in the Monticello courthouse yard. They said, +'You're free! Free!' + +"My mistress said to me when I got back home, 'You're free. Go on out in +the orchard and git yoself some peaches.' They had a yard full of +peaches. Baby did I git me some peaches. I pulled a bushel of 'em. + + +Ku Klux Klan + +"The Ku Klux run my father out of the fields once. And the white people +went and got them 'bout it. They said, 'Times is hard, and we can't have +these people losin' time out of the fields. You let these people work.' +A week after that, they didn't do no mo. The Ku Klux didn't. Somebody +laid them out. I used to go out to the fields and they would ask me, +'Jeff Bailey, what you do in' out here?' I was a little boy and you jus' +ought to seen me gittin' 'way frum there. Whooo-eeee! + +"I used to pick cotton back yonder in Monticello. I can't pick no cotton +now. Naw Lawd! I'm too old. I can't do that kind of work now. I need +help. Carl Bailey knows me. He'll help me. I'm a hostler. I handle +horses. I used to pick cotton forty years ago. My mother washed clothes +right after the War to git us children some thin' to eat. Sometimes +somebody would give us somethin' to help us out. + +"Tilda Bailey, that was my mother. She and my father belonged to +different masters. Bailey was her master's name. She always called +herself Bailey and I call myself Bailey. If I die, I'll be Bailey. My +insurance is in the name of Bailey. My father and mother had about eight +children. They raised all their children in Monticello. You ever been to +Monticello? I had a good time in Monticello. I was a baby when peace was +declared. Just toddling 'round. + +"My father drank too much. I used to tell him about it. I used to say to +him, 'I wouldn't drink so much whiskey.' But he drank it right on. He +drank hisself to death. + +"I believe Roosevelt's goin' to be President again. I believe he's goin' +to run for a third term. He's goin' to be dictator. He's goin' to be +king. He's goin' to be a good dictator. We don't want no more Republic. +The people are too hard on the poor people. President Roosevelt lets +everybody git somethin'. I hope he'll git it. I hope he'll be dictator. +I hope he'll be king. Yuh git hold uh some money with him. + +"You couldn't ever have a chance if Cook got to be governor. I believe +Carl Bailey's goin' to be a good governor. I believe he'll do better. +They put Miz Carraway back; I believe she'll do good too." + + + +Extra Comment + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor + +ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas + +DATE--December, 1938 + +SUBJECT--Ex-slave + +NAME AND ADDRESS OF INFORMANT--Jeff Bailey, 713 W. Ninth Street, Little +Rock. + + +Jeff Bailey talked like a man of ninety instead of a man of seventy-six +or seven. It was hard to get him to stick to any kind of a story. He had +two or three things on his mind and he repeated those things over and +over again--Governor Bailey, Hostler, Post Office. He had to be pried +loose from them. And he always returned the next sentence. + + + + +Interviewer: Mary D. Hudgins. +Person Interviewed: James Baker Aged: 81 +Home: With daughter who owns home at 941 Wade St. + + +The outskirts of eastern Hot Springs resemble a vast +checkerboard--patterned in Black and White. Within two blocks of a house +made of log-faced siding--painted a spotless white and provided with +blue shutters will be a shack which appears to have been made from the +discard of a dozen generations of houses. + +Some of the yards are thick with rusting cans, old tires and +miscelaneous rubbish. Some of them are so gutted by gully wash that any +attempt at beautification would be worse than useless. Some are +swept--farm fashion--free from surface dust and twigs. Some +attempt--others achieve grass and flowers. Vegetable gardens are far +less frequent then they should be, considering space left bare. + +The interviewer frankly lost her way several times. One improper +direction took her fully half a mile beyond her destination. From a +hilltop she could look down on less elevated hills and into narrow +valleys. The impression was that of a cheaply painted back-drop designed +for a "stock" presentation of "Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch." + +Moving along streets, alleys and paths backward "toward town" the +interviewer reached another hill. Almost a quarter of a mile away she +spied an old colored man sunning himself on the front porch of a well +kept cottage. Somthing about his white hair and erectly-slumped bearing +screamed "Ex-slave" even at that distance. A negro youth was passing. + +"I beg your pardon, can you tell me where to find Wade Street and James +Baker?" "Ya--ya--ya--s ma'am. Dat--dat--dat's de house over +da--da--da--da--r. He--he--he lives at his daughter's" "Could that be he +on the porch?" "Ya--ya--yas ma'am. Dat--dat--dat's right." + +"Yes, ma'am I'm James Baker. Yes ma'am I remembers about the war. You +want to talk to me about it. Let me get you a chair. You'd rather sit +right there on the step? All right ma'am. + +I was born in Hot Spring county, below Melvern it was. I was borned on +the farm of a man named Hammonds. But I was pretty little when he sold +me to some folks named Fenton. Wasn't with them so very long. You know +how it goes--back in them days. When a girl or a boy would marry, why +they'd givem them as many black folks as they could spare. I was give to +one of the daughters when she married. She was Mrs. Samuel Gentry. + +I wasn't so very big before the war. So I didn't have to work in the +fields. Just sort of played around. Can't remember very much about what +happened then. We never did see no fighting about. They was men what +passed through. They was soldiers. They come backwards and forewards. I +was about as big as that boy you see there"--pointing to a lad about 8 +years old--"some of them they was dressed in blue--sort of blue. We was +told that they was Federals. Then some of them was in grey--them was the +Southerners. + +No, we wasn't scared of them--either of them. They didn't never bother +none of us. Didn't have anything to be scared of not at all. It wasn't +really Malvern we was at--that was sort of before Malvern come to be. +Malvern didn't grow up until after the railroad come through. The town +was across the river, sort of this side. It was called Rockport. +Ma'am--you know about Rockport"--a delighted chuckle. "Yes, ma'am, don't +many folks now-a-days know about Rockport. Yes ma'am the river is pretty +shoaly right there. Pretty shoaly. Yes ma'am there was lots of doings +around Rockport. Yes ma'am. Dat's right. Before Garland county was made, +Rockport was the capitol O--I mean de county seat of Hot Spring County. +Hot Springs was in that county at that time. There was big doings in +town when they held court. Real big doings. + +No, ma'am I didn't do nothing much when the war was over. No, I didn't +go to be with my daddy. I moved over to live with a man I called Uncle +Billy--Uncle Billy Bryant he was. He had all his family with him. I +stayed with him and did what he told me to--'til I grew up. He was +always good to me--treated me like his own children. + +Uncle Billy lived at Rockport. I liked living with him. I remember the +court house burned down--or blowed down--seems like to me it burned +down. Uncle Billy got the job of cleaning bricks. I helped him. That was +when they moved over to Malvern--the court house I mean. No--no they +didn't. Not then, that was later--they didn't build the railroad until +later. They built it back--sort of simple like--built it down by Judge +Kieth's. + +No ma'am. I don't remember nothing about when they built the railroad. +You see we lived across the river--and I guess--well I just didn't know +nothing about it. But Rockport wasn't no good after the railroad come +in. They moved the court house and most of the folks moved away. There +wasn't nothing much left. + +I started farming around there some. I moved about quite a bit. I lived +down sort of by Benton too for quite a spell. I worked around at most +any kind of farming. + +'Course most of the time we was working at cotton and corn. I's spent +most of my life farming. I like it. Moved around pretty considerable. +Sometimes I hired out--sometimes I share cropped--sometimes I worked +thirds and fourths. What does I mean by hired out--I means worked for +wages. Which way did I like best--I'll take share-cropping. I sort of +like share-cropping. + +I been in Hot Springs for 7 years. Come to be with my daughter." (An +interruption by a small negro girl--neatly dressed and bright-eyed. Not +content with watching from the sidelines she had edged closer and +squatted comfortably within a couple of feet of the interviewer. A wide, +pearly grin, a wee pointing forefinger and, "Granddaddy, that lady's got +a tablet just like Aunt Ellen. See, Granddaddy.") "You mustm't bother +the lady. Didn't your mother tell you not to stop folks when they is +talking."--the voice was kindly and there was paternal pride in it. A +nickle--tendered the youngster by the interviewer--and guaranteed to +produce a similar tablet won a smile and childish silence. + +"Yes, ma'am, I lives with my daughter--her name is Lulu Mitchell. She +owns her house--yes ma'am it helps. But it's sure hard to get along. +Seems like it's lots harder now than it used to be when I was gitting +started. Lulu works--she irons. Another daughter lives right over there. +Her name's Ellen. She works too--at what she can get to do. She owns her +house too. + +Three of my daughters is living. Been married twice--I has. Didn't stay +with the last one long. Yes ma'am I been coming backwards and forewards +to Hot Springs all my life--you might say. 'Twasn't far over and I kept +a'coming back. Been living all around here. It's pretty nice being with +my daughter. She's good to me. I loves my granddaughter. We has a pretty +hard time--Harder dan what I had when I was young--but then it do seem +like it's harder to earn money dan what it was when I was young." + + + + +Interviewer: R.S. Taylor +Person Interviewed: Uncle William Baltimore +Resident: Route #1, Pine Bluff, Arkansas, Jefferson County. Age: 103. + + +"You wants to know how old I is? I'se lived a long time. I'se goin' on +104. My gran'mammy was over 100 years. My mamma was 100. My pappy was +96. They was twelve chilluns. I don't know if any of my sisters or +brothers is livin'. Don't know if one of my friends back in my boy days +is livin'. I'se like a poor old leaf left hangin' to a tree. + +"Yes--I sho do member back befo' the war. I was borned on the Dr. Waters +place about twelve miles out of Pine Bluff on the east side of Noble +Lake. My gran'mammy and gran'pappy and my mamma and my pappy were slaves +on de Walker plantation. I was not bought or sold--just lived on de old +plantation. I wasn't whipped neither but once I mighty near got a +beatin'. Want to hear about it? I likes to tell. + +"Dr. Waters had a good heart. He didn't call us 'slaves'. He call us +'servants'. He didn't want none of his niggers whipped 'ceptin when +there wasn't no other way. I was grown up pretty good size. Dr. Waters +liked me cause I could make wagons and show mules. Once when he was +going away to be gone all day, he tole me what to do while he was gone. +The overseer wasn't no such good man as old master. He wanted to be boss +and told me what to do. I tole him de big boss had tole me what to do +and I was goin' to do it. He got mad and said if I didn't do what he +said I'd take a beating. I was a big nigger and powerful stout. I tole +the overseer fore he whipped me he's show himself a better man than I +was. When he found he was to have a fight he didn't say no more about +the whipping. + +"I worked on de plantation till de war broke. Then I went into the army +with them what called themselves secesh's. I didn't fight none, never +give me a gun nor sword. I was a servant. I cooked and toted things. In +1863 I was captured by the Yankees and marched to Little Rock and sworn +in as a Union Soldier. I was sure enough soldier now. I never did any +fighting but I marched with the soldiers and worked for them whatever +they said. + +"We marched from Pine Bluff on through Ft. Smith and the Indian +Territory of Oklahoma. Then we went to Leavenworth Kansas and back to +Jefferson County, Arkansas. And all that walking I did on these same +foots you see right here now. + +"On this long march we camped thirty miles from Ft. Smith. We had gone +without food three days and was powerful hongry. I started out to get +something to eat. I found a sheep, I was tickled. I laughed. I could +turn the taste of that sheep meat under my tongue. When I got to camp +with the sheep I had to leave for picket duty. Hungrier than ever, I +thought of that sheep all the time. When I got back I wanted my chunk of +meat. It had been killed, cooked, eat up. Never got a grease spot on my +finger from my sheep. + +"When time come for breaking up the army I went back to Jefferson county +and set to farmin'. I was free now. I didn't do so well on the land as I +didn't have mules and money to live on. I went to Dersa County and +opened up a blacksmith shop. I learned how to do this work when I was +with Dr. Waters. He had me taught by a skilled man. I learned to build +wagons too. + +"I made my own tools. Who showed me how? Nobody. When I needed a hack +saw I made it out of a file--that was all I had to make it of. I had to +have it. Once I made a cotton scraper out of a piece of hardwood. I put +a steel edge on it. O yes I made everything. Can I build a wagon--make +all the parts? Every thing but the hubs for the wheels. + +"You say I don't seem to see very well. Ha-ha! I don't see nuthin' at +all. I'se been plum blind for 23 years. I can't see nothin'. But I +patches my own clothes. You don't know how I can thread the needle? Look +here." I asked him to let me see his needle threader. He felt around in +a drawer and pulled out a tiny little half arrow which he had made of a +bit of tin with a pair of scissors and fine file. He pushed this through +the eye of the needle, then hooked the thread on it and pulled it back +again threading his needle as fast as if he had good eyesight. "This is +a needle threader. I made it myself. Watch me thread a needle. Can't I +do it as fast as if I had a head full of keen eyes? My wife been gone +twenty years. She went blind too. I had to do something. My patches may +not look so pretty but they sure holt (hold). + +"You wants to know what I think of the way young folks is doing these +days? They'se goin' to fast. So is their papas and mammas. Dey done +forgot dey's a God and a day of settlin'. Den what dances pays de +fiddler. I got religion long time ago--jined de Baptist church in 1870 +and haven't never got away from it. I'se tried to tote fair with God and +he's done fair by me. + +"Does I get a pension? I shure do. It was a lucky day when de Yankees +got me. Ef they hadn't I don't know what'd become of me. After I went +blind I had hard times. Folks, white folks and all, brought me food. But +that wasn't any good way to get along. Sometimes I ate, sometimes I +didn't. So some of my white, friends dug up my record with the Yankees +and got me a pension. Now I'm setting pretty for de rest of my life. +Yes--O yes I'se older dan most folks get. Still I may be still takin' my +grub here when some of these young whiskey drinkin razzin' around young +chaps is under the dirt. It pays to I don know of any bad spots in me +yet. It pays to live honest, work hard, stay sober. God only knows what +some of these lazy, triflin' drinkin' young folks is comin' to." + + + + +Interviewer: Pernella M. Anderson +Person interviewed: Mose Banks + Douglas Addition, El Dorado, Arkansas +Age: 69 + + +"My name is Mose Banks and I am sixty-nine years old. I was born in +1869. I was born four years after freedom but still I was a slave in a +way. My papa stayed with his old miss and master after freedom until he +died and he just died in 1918, so we all stayed with him too. I had one +of the best easiest times in my life. My master was name Bob Stevenson +and he was a jewel. Never meaned us, never dogged, never hit one of us +in his life. He bought us just like he bought my papa. He never made any +of the girls work in the field. He said the work was too hard. He always +said splitting rails, bushing, plowing and work like that was for men. +That work makes no count women. + +"The girls swept yards, cleaned the house, nursed, and washed and +ironed, combed old miss' and the children's hair and cut their finger +and toe nails and mended the clothes. The womens' job was to cook, +attend to the cows, knit all the socks for the men and boys, spin +thread, card bats, weave cloth, quilt, sew, scrub and things like that. + +"The little boys drove up the cows, slopped the hogs, got wood and pine +for light, go to the spring and get water. After a boy was twelve then +he let him work in the fields. My main job was hitching the horse to the +buggy for old Miss Stevenson, and put the saddle on old master's saddle +horse. + +"I was very small but when the first railroad come through old master +took us to see the train. I guess it was about forty or fifty miles +because it took us around four days to make the round trip. The trains +were not like they are now. The engine was smaller and they burned wood +and they had what they called a drum head and they didn't run very fast, +and could not carry many cars. It was a narrow gauge road and the rails +were small and the road was dirt. It was not gravel and rocks like it is +now. It was a great show to me and we all had something to talk about +for a long time. People all around went to see it and we camped out one +night going and coming and camped one night at the railroad so we could +see the train the next day. A man kept putting wood in the furnace in +order to keep a fire. Smoke come out of the drum head. The drum head was +something like a big washpot or a big old hogshead barrel. An ox team +was used for most all traveling. You did not see very many horses or +mules. + +"The white children taught us how to read and I went to school too. + +"I went to church too. We did not have a church house; we used a brush +arbor for service for a long time. In the winter we built a big fire in +the middle and we sat all around the fire on small pine logs. Later they +built a log church, so we had service in there for years. + +"We did not live near a school, so old mistress and the children taught +us how to read and write and count. I never went to school in my life +and I bet you, can't none of these children that rub their heads on +college walls beat me reading and counting. You call one and ask them to +divide ninety-nine cows and one bob-tailed bull by two, and they can't +answer it to save their lives without a pencil and paper and two hours' +figuring when it's nothing to say but fifty. + +"Wasn't no cook stoves and heaters until about 1890 or 1900. If there +was I did not know about them. They cooked on fireplace and fire out in +the yard on what they called oven and we had plenty of plain grub. We +stole eggs from the big house because we never got any eggs. + +"The custom of marrying was just pack up and go on and live with who you +wanted to; that is the Negroes did--I don't know how the white people +married. This lawful marrying came from the law since man made law. + +"When anybody died everybody stopped working and moaned and prayed until +after the burying. + +"I can say there is as much difference between now and sixty years ago +as it is in day and night." + + + + +Interviewer: S. S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Henry Banner + County Hospital + Little Rock, Ark. +Age: ? + + +[HW: Forty Acres and a Mule] + +"I was sold the third year of the war for fifteen years old. That would +be in 1864. That would make my birthday come in 1849. I must have been +12 year old when the war started and sixteen when Lee surrendered. I was +born and raised in Russell County, Ol' Virginny. I was sold out of +Russell County during the war. Ol' Man Menefee refugeed me into +Tennessee near Knoxville. They sold me down there to a man named Jim +Maddison. He carried me down in Virginny near Lynchburg and sold me to +Jim Alec Wright. He was the man I was with in the time of the surrender. +Then I was in a town called Liberty. The last time I was sold, I sold +for $2,300,--more than I'm worth now. + +"Police were for white folks. Patteroles were for niggers. If they +caught niggers out without a pass they would whip them. The patteroles +were for darkies, police for other people. + +"They run me once, and I ran home. I had a dog at home, and there wasn't +no chance them gettin' by that dog. They caught me once in Liberty, and +Mrs. Charlie Crenchaw, Ol' John Crenchaw's daughter, came out and made +them turn me loose. She said, 'They are our darkies; turn them loose.' + +"One of them got after me one night. I ran through a gate and he +couldn't get through. Every time I looked around, I would see through +the trees some bush or other and think it was him gaining on me. God +knows! I ran myself to death and got home and fell down on the floor. + +"The slaves weren't expecting nothing. It got out somehow that they were +going to give us forty acres and a mule. We all went up in town. They +asked me who I belonged to and I told them my master was named Banner. +One man said, 'Young man, I would go by my mama's name if I were you.' I +told him my mother's name was Banner too. Then he opened a book and told +me all the laws. He told me never to go by any name except Banner. That +was all the mule they ever give me. + +"I started home a year after I got free and made a crop. I had my gear +what I had saved on the plantation and went to town to get my mule but +there wasn't any mule. + +"Before the war you belonged to somebody. After the war you weren't +nothin' but a nigger. The laws of the country were made for the white +man. The laws of the North were made for man. + +"Freedom is better than slavery though. I done seed both sides. I seen +darkies chained. If a good nigger killed a white overseer, they wouldn't +do nothin' to him. If he was a bad nigger, they'd sell him. They raised +niggers to sell; they didn't want to lose them. It was just like a mule +killing a man. + +"Yellow niggers didn't sell so well. There weren't so many of them as +there are now. Black niggers stood the climate better. At least, +everybody thought so. + +"If a woman didn't breed well, she was put in a gang and sold. They +married just like they do now but they didn't have no license. Some +people say that they done this and that thing but it's no such a thing. +They married just like they do now, only they didn't have no license. + +"Ol' man came out on April 9, 1865. and said, 'General Lee's whipped now +and dam badly whipped. The war is over. The Yankees done got the +country. It is all over. Just go home and hide everything you got. +General Lee's army is coming this way and stealing everything they can +get their hands on.' But General Lee's army went the other way. + +"I saw a sack of money setting near the store. I looked around and I +didn't see nobody. So I took it and carried it home. Then I hid it. I +heard in town that Jeff Davis was dead and his money was no good. I took +out some of the money and went to the grocery and bought some bread and +handed her five dollar bill. She said, 'My goodness, Henry, that money +is no good; the Yankees have killed it.' And I had done gone all over +the woods and hid that money out. There wasn't no money. Nobody had +anything. I worked for two bits a day. All our money was dead. + +"The Yankees fed the white people with hard tacks (at Liberty, +Virginia). All around the country, them that didn't have nothin' had to +go to the commissary and get hard tacks. + +"I started home. I went to town and rambled all around but there wasn't +nothin' for me. + +"I was set free in April. About nine o'clock in the morning when we went +to see what work we would do, ol' man Wright called us all up and told +us to come together. Then he told us we were free. I couldn't get +nothing to do; so I jus' stayed on and made a crop." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: John W. H. Barnett, Marianna, Arkansas +Age: 81 + + +"I was born at Clinton Parish, Louisiana. I'm eighty-one years old. My +parents and four children was sold and left six children behind. They +kept the oldest children. In that way I was sold but never alone. Our +family was divided and that brought grief to my parents. We was sold on +a block at New Orleans. J.J. Gambol (Gamble?) in north Louisiana bought +us. After freedom I seen all but one of our family. I don't recollect +why that was. + +"For three weeks steady after the surrender people was passing from the +War and for two years off and on somebody come along going home. Some +rode and some had a cane or stick walking. Mother was cooking a pot of +shoulder meat. Them blue soldiers come by and et it up. I didn't get any +I know that. They cleaned us out. Father was born at Eastern Shore, +Maryland. He was about half Indian. Mother's mother was a squaw. I'm +more Indian than Negro. Father said it was a white man's war. He didn't +go to war. Mother was very dark. He spoke a broken tongue. + +"We worked on after freedom for the man we was owned by. We worked crops +and patches. I didn't see much difference then. I see a big change come +out of it. We had to work. The work didn't slacken a bit. I never owned +land but my father owned eighty acres in Drew County. I don't know what +become of it. I worked on the railroad section, laid crossties, worked +in stave mills. I farmed a whole lot all along. I hauled and cut wood. + +"I get ten dollars and I sells sassafras and little things along to help +out. My wife died. My two sons left just before the World War. I never +hear from them. I married since then. + +"Present times--I can't figure it out. Seems like a stampede. Not much +work to do. If I was young I reckon I could find something to do. + +"Present generation--Seem like they are more united. The old ones have +to teach the young ones what to do. They don't listen all the time. The +times is strange. People's children don't do them much good now seems +like. They waste most all they make some way. They don't make it regular +like we did farming. The work wasn't regular farming but Saturday was +ration day and we got that." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Josephine Ann Barnett, + R.F.D., De Valls Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 75 or 80 + + +"I do not knows my exact age. I judge I somewhere between 75 and 80 +years old. I was born close to Germantown, Tennessee. We belong, that is +my mother, to Phillip McNeill and Sally McNeill. My mother was a milker. +He had a whole heap of hogs, cattle and stock. That not all my mother +done. She plowed. Children done the churnin'. + +"The way it all come bout I was the onliest chile my mother had. Him and +Miss Sallie left her to help gather the crop and they brought me in the +buggy wid them. I set on a little box in the foot of the buggy. It had a +white umbrella stretched over it. Great big umbrella run in between +them. It was fastened to the buggy seat. When we got to Memphis they +loaded the buggy on the ship. I had a fine time coming. When we got to +Bucks Landing we rode to his place in the buggy. It is 13 miles from +here (De Valls Bluff). In the fall nearly all his slaves come out here. +Then when my mother come on. I never seen my papa after I left back home +[TR: Crossed out: (near Germantown)]. My father belong to Boston Hack. +He wouldn't sell and Mr. McNeill wouldn't sell and that how it come. + +"I muster been five or six years old when I come out here to Arkansas. +My grandma was a midwife. She was already out here. She had to come with +the first crowd cause some women was expecting. I tell you it sho was +squally times. This country was wild. It was different from Tennessee or +close to Germantown where we come from. None of the slaves liked it but +they was brought. + +"The war come on direckly after we got here. Several families had the +slaves drove off to Texas to save them. Keep em from following the +Yankee soldiers right here at the Bluff off. I remember seein' them come +up to the gate. My mother and two aunts went. His son and some more men +drove em. After freedom them what left childern come back. I stayed with +my grandma while they gone. I fed the chickens, shelled corn, churned, +swept. I done any little turns they sent me to do. + +"One thing I remember happened when they had scrimmage close--it mighter +been the one on Long Prairie--they brought a young boy shot through his +lung to Mr. Phillip McNeill's house. He was a stranger. He died. I felt +so sorry for him. He was right young. He belong to the Southern army. +The Southern army nearly made his place their headquarters. + +"Another thing I remember was a agent was going through the country +settin' fire to all the cotton. Mr. McNeill had his cotton--all our crop +we made. That man set it afire. It burned more than a week big. He +burned some left at the gin not Mr. McNeill's. It was fun to us children +but I know my grandma cried and all the balance of the slaves. Cause +they got some Christmas money and clothes too when the cotton was sold. + +"The slaves hated the Yankees. They treated them mean. They was having a +big time. They didn't like the slaves. They steal from the slaves too. +Some poor folks didn't have slaves. + +"After freedom my mother come back after me and we come here to De Valls +Bluff and I been here ever since. The Yankee soldiers had built shacks +and they left them. They would do. Some was one room, log, boxed and all +sorts. They give us a little to eat to keep us from starvin'. It sho was +a little bit too. My mother got work about. + +"The first schoolhouse was a colored school. We had two rooms and two +teachers sent down from the North to teach us. If they had a white +school I didn't know it. They had one later on. I was bout grown. Mr. +Proctor and Miss Rice was the first teachers. We laughed bout em. They +was rough looking, didn't look like white folks down here we'd been used +to. They thought they sho was smart. Another teacher come down here was +Mr. Abner. White folks wouldn't have nothin' to do with em. We learned. +They learned us the ABC's and to write. I can read. I learned a heap of +it since I got grown just trying. They gimme a start. + +"Times is hard in a way. Prices so high. I never had a hard time in my +life. I get $40 a month. It is cause my husband was a soldier here at De +Valls Bluff. + +"I do not vote. I ain't goiner vote. + +"I don't know what to think of the young generation. They are on the +road to ruin seems like. I speakln' of the real young folks. They do +like they see the white girls and boys doin'. I don't know what to +become of em. The women outer stay at home and let the men take care of +em. The women seems like taking all the jobs. The colored folks cookin' +and making the living for their men folks. It ain't right--to me. But I +don't care how they do. Things ain't got fixed since that last war." +(World War). + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Rosa B. Ingram +Person interviewed: Lizzie Barnett; Conway, Arkansas +Age: 100? + + +"Yes; I was born a slave. My old mammy was a slave before me. She was +owned by my old Miss, Fanny Pennington, of Nashville, Tennessee. I was +born on a plantation near there. She is dead now. I shore did love Miss +Fanny. + +"Did you have any brothers and sisters, Aunt Liz.?" + +"Why, law yes, honey, my mammy and Miss Fanny raised dey chillun +together. Three each, and we was jes' like brothers and sisters, all +played in de same yard. No, we did not eat together. Dey sot us niggers +out in de yard to eat, but many a night I'se slept with Miss Fanny. + +"Mr. Pennington up and took de old-time consumption. Dey calls it T.B. +now. My mammy nursed him and took it from him and died before Mr. Abe +Lincoln ever sot her free. + +"I have seen hard times, Miss, I shore have. + +"In dem days when a man owned a plantation and had children and they +liked any of the little slave niggers, they were issued out to 'em just +like a horse or cow. + +"'Member, honey, when de old-time war happened between the North and +South, The Slavery War. It was so long ago I just can 'member it. Dey +had us niggers scared to death of the Bluejackets. One day a man come to +Miss Fanny's house and took a liking to me. He put me up on a block an' +he say, 'How old is dis nigger?' An' she say 'five' when she know well +an' good I was ten. No, he didn't get me. But I thought my time had +come. + +"Yes, siree, I was Miss Fanny's child. Why wouldn't I love her when I +sucked titty from her breast when my mammy was working in the field? I +shore did love Miss Fanny. + +"When de nigger war was over and dey didn't fit (fight) any longer, Abe +Lincoln sot all de niggers free and den got 'sassinated fer doin it. + +"Miss, you don't know what a hard life we slaves had, cause you ain't +old enough to 'member it. Many a time I've heard the bull whips +a-flying, and heard the awful cries of the slaves. The flesh would be +cut in great gaps and the maggits (maggots) would get in them and they +would squirm in misery. + +"I want you to know I am not on Arkansas born nigger. I come from +Tennessee. Be sure to put that down. I moved to Memphis after Miss Fanny +died. + +"While I lived in Memphis, de Yellow Fever broke out. You have never +seed the like. Everything was under quarantine. The folks died in piles +and de coffins was piled as high as a house. They buried them in +trenches, and later they dug graves and buried them. When they got to +looking into the coffins, they discovered some had turned over in dey +coffins and some had clawed dey eyes out and some had gnawed holes in +dey hands. Dey was buried alive! + +"Miss, do you believe in ha'nts? Well, if you had been in Memphis den +you would. Dey was jes' paradin' de streets at nite and you'd meet dem +comin at you round de dark corners and all de houses everywhere was +ha'nted. I've seed plenty of 'em wid my own eyes, yes, siree. + +"Yes, the times were awful in Memphis endurin the plague. Women dead +lying around and babies sucking their breasts. As soon as the frost came +and the quarantine was lifted, I came to Conway, 1867. But I am a +Tennessee nigger. + +"When I cams to Conway there were few houses to live in. No depot. I +bought this piece of land to build my shanty from Mr. Jim Harkrider for +$25.00. I worked hard for white folks and saved my money and had this +little two-room house built (mud chimney, and small porch and one small +window). It is about to fall down on me, but it will last as long as I +live. At first, I lived and cooked under a bush (brush) arbor. Cooked on +the coals in an iron skillet. Here it it, Miss. + +"Part ob de time after de nigger war (Civil) I lived in Hot Springs. +President 'Kinley had a big reservation over there and a big hospital +for the sick and wounded soldiers. Den de war broke out in Cuba and dere +was a spatch (dispatch) board what de news come over dat de war was on. +Den when dat war was over and 'Kinley was tryin to get us niggers a +slave pension dey up and 'sassinated him. + +"After Mr. Lincoln sot de slaves free, dey had Northern teachers down +South and they were called spies and all left the country. + +"I don't know 'sactly how old I am. Dey say I am 100. If Miss Fanny was +livin' she could settle it. But I have had a hard life. Yes mam. Here I +is living in my shanty, 'pendin' on my good white neighbors to feed me +and no income 'cept my Old Age Pension. Thank God for Mr. Roosevelt. I +love my Southern white friends. I am glad the North and South done shook +hands and made friends. All I has to do now is sit and look forward to +de day when I can meet my old mammy and Miss Fanny in the Glory Land. +Thank God." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Spencer Barnett (blind), Holly Grove, Ark. +Age: 81 + + +"I was born April 30, 1856. It was wrote in a old Bible. I am 81 years +old. I was born 3 miles from Florence, Alabama. The folks owned us was +Nancy and Mars Tom Williams. To my recollection they had John, William, +and Tom, boys; Jane, Ann, Lucy, and Emma, girls. In my family there was +13 children. My parents name Harry and Harriett Barnett. + +"Mars Tom Williams had a tanning yard. He bought hides this way: When a +fellow bring hides he would tan em then give him back half what he +brought. Then he work up the rest in shoes, harness, whoops, saddles and +sell them. The man all worked wid him and he had a farm. He raised corn, +cotton, wheat, and oats. + +"That slavery was bad. Mars Tom Williams wasn't cruel. He never broke +the skin. When the horn blowed they better be in place. They used a +twisted cowhide whoop. It was wet and tied, then it mortally would hurt. +One thing you had to be in your place day and night. It was confinin'. + +"Sunday was visiting day. + +"One man come to dinner, he hit a horse wid a rock and run way. He +missed his dinner. He come back fo dark and went tole Mars Tom. He +didn't whoop him. I was mighty little when that took place. + +"They worked on Saturday like any other day. One man fixed out the +rations. It didn't take long fer to go git em. + +"The women plowed like men in plow time. Some women made rails. When it +was cold and raining they spun and wove in the house. The men cut wood +under a shed or side the barn so it knock off the wind. Mars Tom +Williams had 12 grown men and women. I was too little to count but I +heard my folks call am over by name and number more times en I got +fingers and toes. He would hire em out to work some. + +"When freedom come on I was on Hawkin Lankford Simpson place. It was 3 +or 5 miles from town. They had a big dinner-picnic close by. It was 4 or +5 day of August. A lot of soldiers come by there and said, 'You niggers +air free.' It bout broke up the picnic. The white folks broke off home. +Them wanted to go back went, them didn't struck off gone wild. Miss Lucy +and Mr. Bob Barnett give all of em stayed some corn and a little money. +Then he paid off at the end of the year. Then young master went and +rented at Dilly Hunt place. We stayed wid him 3 or 4 years then we went +to a place he bought. Tom Barnett come to close to Little Rock. Mars +William started and died on the way in Memphis. We come on wid the +family. Guess they are all dead now. Wisht I know or could find em. Tom +never married. He was a soldier. One of the boys died fo the war +started. + +"My brother Joe married Luvenia Omsted and Lewis Omsted married my +sister Betsy and Mars Tom Williams swapped the women. My ma was a cook +for the white folks how I come to know so much bout it all. Boys wore +loose shirts till they was nine or ten years old. The shirt come to the +calf of the leg. No belt. + +"We had plenty common eating. They had a big garden and plenty milk. +They cooked wid the eggs mostly. They would kill a beef and have a week +of hog killing. They would kill the beef the hardest weather that come. +The families cooked at night and on Sunday at the log cabins. They cook +at night for all next day. The old men hauled wood. + +"When I was a little boy I could hear men runnin' the slaves wid hounds +in the mountains. The landmen paid paddyrollers to keep track of slaves. +Keep em home day and night. + +"We took turns bout going to white church. We go in washin' at the creek +and put on clean clothes. She learned me a prayer. Old mistress learned +me to say it nights I slept up at the house. I still can say it: + + 'Now I lay me down to sleep + I pray the Lord my soul to keep + If I should die fo I wake + I pray the Lord my soul to take.' + +"The slaves at our places had wheat straw beds. The white folks had fine +goose feather beds. We had no idle days. Had a long time at dinner to +rest and rest and water the teams. Sometimes we fed them. Old mistress +had two peafowls roosted in the Colonial poplar trees. She had a pigeon +house and a turkey house. I recken chicken and goose house, too. When +company come you take em to see the farm, the garden, the new leather +things jes' made and to see the little ducks, calves, and colts. Folks +don't care bout seeing that now. + +"The girls went to Florence to school. All I can recollect is them going +off to school and I knowed it was Florence. + +"The Yankees burned the big house. It was a fine house. Old mistress +moved in the overseer's house. He was a white man. He moved somewhere +else. The Yankees made raids and took 15 or 20 calves from her at one +time. They set the tater house afire. They took the corn. Old mistress +cried more on one time. The Yankees starved out more black faces than +white at their stealing. After that war it was hard for the slaves to +have a shelter and enough eatin' that winter. They died in piles bout +after that August I tole you bout. Joe Innes was our overseer when the +house burned. + +"The Ku Klux come to my house twice. They couldn't get filled up wid +water. They scared us to death. I heard a lot of things they done. + +"I don't vote. I voted once in all my life fo some county officers. + +"I been in Arkansas since February 5, 1880. I come to Little Cypress. I +worked for Mr. Clark by the month, J.W. Crocton's place, Mr. Kitchen's +place. I was brakeman on freight train awhile. I worked on the section. +I farmed and worked in the timber. I don't have no children; I never +been married. I wanted to work by the month all my life. I sells mats +(shuck mats) $1.00 and I bottom chairs 50¢. The Social Welfare gives me +$10.00. That is 10¢ a meal. That woman next door boards me--table +board--for 50¢ a day. I make all I can outer fust one thing and +another." (He is blind--cataracts.) + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Emma Barr, Madison, Arkansas +Age: 65 + + +"My parents belong to two people. Mama was born in Mississippi I think +and papa come from North Carolina. Papa's master was Lark Hickerson. +Mama was sold from Dr. Ware to Dr. Pope. She was grown when she was +sold. She was the mother of twenty-seven children. She had twins three +times. + +"During the Civil War she was run from the Yankees and had twins on the +road. They died or was born dead and she nearly died. They was buried +between twin trees close to Hernando, Mississippi. Her last owner was +Dr. Pope, ten miles south of Augusta, Arkansas. I was born there and +raised up three miles south of Augusta, Arkansas. + +"When mama was sold she left her people in Mississippi but after freedom +her sisters, Aunt Mariah and Aunt Mary, come here to mama. Aunt Mariah +had no children. Aunt Mary had four boys, two girls. She brought her +children. Mama said her husband when Dr. Ware owned her was Maxwell but +she married my papa after Dr. Pope bought her. + +"Dr. Ware had a fine man he bred his colored house women to. They didn't +plough and do heavy work. He was hostler, looked after the stock and got +in wood. The women hated him, and the men on the place done as well. +They hated him too. My papa was a Hickerson. He was a shoemaker and +waited on Dr. Pope. Dr. Pope and Miss Marie was good to my parents and +to my auntees when they come out here. + +"I am the onliest one of mama's children living. Mama was sold on the +block and cried off I heard them say when they lived at Wares in +Mississippi. Mama was a house girl, Aunt Mary cooked and my oldest +sister put fire on the skillet and oven lids. That was her job. + +"Mama was lighter than I am. She had Indian blood in her. One auntee was +half white. She was lighter than I am, had straight hair; the other +auntee was real dark. She spun and wove and knit socks. Mama said they +had plenty to eat at both homes. Dr. Pope was good to her. Mama went to +the white folks church to look after the babies. They took the babies +and all the little children to church in them days. + +"Mama said the preachers told the slaves to be good and bedient. The +colored folks would meet up wid one another at preaching same as the +white folks. I heard my auntees say when the Yankees come to the house +the mistress would run give the house women their money and jewelry and +soon as the Yankees leave they would come get it. That was at Wares in +Mississippi. + +"I heard them talk about slipping off and going to some house on the +place and other places too and pray for freedom during the War. They +turned an iron pot upside down in the room. When some mens' slaves was +caught on another man's place he was allowed to whoop them and send them +home and they would git another whooping. Some men wouldn't allow that; +they said they would tend to their own slaves. So many men had to leave +home to go to war times got slack. + +"It was Judge Martin that owned my papa before he was freed. He lived +close to Augusta, Arkansas. When he was freed he lived at Dr. Pope's. He +was sold in North Carolina. Dr. Pope and Judge Martin told them they was +free. Mama stayed on with Dr. Pope and he paid her. He never did whoop +her. Mama told me all this. She died a few years ago. She was old. I +never heard much about the Ku Klux. Mama was a good speller. I was a +good speller at school and she learned with us. I spelled in Webster's +Blue Back Speller. + +"We children stayed around home till we married off. I nursed nearly all +my life. Me and my husband farmed ten years. He died. I don't have a +child. I wish I did have a girl. My cousin married us in the church. His +name was Andrew Baccus. + +"After my husband died I went to Coffeeville, Kansas and nursed an old +invalid white woman three years, till she died. I come back here where I +was knowed. I'm keeping this house for some people gone off. Part of the +house is rented out and I get $8 and commodities. I been sick with the +chills." + + + + +Interviewer: S.S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Robert Barr + 3108 West 18th St. + Little Rock, Ark. +Age: 73 +Occupation: Preaching + + +[HW: A Preacher Tells His Story] + +"I am a minister of the Gospel. I have been preaching for the last +thirty years. I am batching here. A man does better to live by himself. +Young people got the devil in them now a days. Your own children don't +want you around. + +"I got one grand-daughter that ain't never stood on the floor. Her +husband kicked her and hit her and she ain't never been able to stand up +since. I got another daughter that ain't thinking about marrying. She +just goes from one man to the other. + +"The government gives me a pension. The white folks help me all along. +Before I preached, I fiddled, danced, shot craps, did anything. + +"My mother was born in Chickasaw, Mississippi. She was born a slave. Old +man Barr was her master. She was a Lucy Appelin and she married a Barr. +I don't know whether she stood on the floor and married them as they do +now or not. They tell me that they just gave them to them in those days. +My mother said that they didn't know anything about marriage then. They +had some sort of a way of doing. Ol' Massa would call them up and say, +'You take that man, and go ahead. You are man and wife.' I don't care +whether you liked it or didn't. You had to go ahead. I heard em say: +'Nigger ain't no more'n a horse or cow,' But they got out from under +that now. The world is growing more and more civilized. But when a +nigger thinks he is something, he ain't nothin'. White folks got all the +laws and regulations in their hands and they can do as they please. You +surrender under em and go along and you are all right. If they told a +woman to go to a man and she didn't, they would whip her. You didn't +have your own way. They would make you do what they wanted. They'd give +you a good beating too. + +"My father was born in Mississippi. His name was Simon Barr. My mother +and father both lived on the same plantation. In all groups of people +they went by their master's name. Before she married, my mother's master +and mistress were Appelins. When she got married--got ready to +marry--the white folks agreed to let them go together. Old Man Barr must +have paid something for her. According to my mother and father, that's +the way it was. She had to leave her master and go with her husband's +master. + +"According to my old father and mother, the Patteroles went and got the +niggers when they did something wrong. They lived during slave time. +They had a rule and government over the colored and there you are. When +they caught niggers out, they would beat them. If you'd run away, they'd +go and get you and beat you and put you back. When they'd get on a +nigger and beat him, the colored folks would holler, 'I pray, Massa.' +They had to have a great war over it, before they freed the nigger. The +Bible says there is a time for all things. + +"My mother and father said they got a certain amount when they was +freed. I don't know how much it was. It was only a small amount. After a +short time it broke up and they didn't get any more. I get ten dollars +pension now and that is more than they got then. + +"I heard Old Brother Page in Mississippi say that the slaves had heard +em say they were going to be free. His young mistress heard em say he +was going to be free and she walked up and hocked and spit in his face. +When freedom came, old Massa came out and told them. + +"I have heard folks talk of buried treasure. I'll bet there's more money +under the ground than there is on it. They didn't have banks then, and +they put their money under the ground. For hundreds of years, there has +been money put under the ground. + +"I heard my mother talk about their dances and frolics then. I never +heard her speak of anything else. They didn't have much freedom. They +couldn't go and come as they pleased. You had to have a script to go and +come. Niggers ain't free now. You can't do anything; you got nothin'. +This whole town belongs to white folks, and you can't do nothin'. If +nigger get to have anything, white folks will take it. + +"We raised our own food. We made our own flour. We wove our own cloth. +We made our clothes. We made our meal. We made our sorghum cane +molasses. Some of them made their shoes, made their own medicine, and +went around and doctored on one another. They were more healthy then +than they are now. This generation don't live hardly to get forty years +old. They don't live long now. + +"I came to Arkansas about thirty-five years ago. I got right into +ditches. The first thing I did was farm. I farmed about ten years. I +made about ten crops. Mississippi gave you more for your crops than +Arkansas." + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Matilda Bass + 1100 Palm Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 80 + + +"Yes ma'am, I was eight years old when the Old War ceasted. + +"Honey, I've lived here twenty years and I don't know what this street +is. + +"I was born in Greenville, Mississippi. They took my parents and carried +'em to Texas to keep 'em from the Yankees. I think they stayed three +years 'cause I didn't know 'em when they come back. + +"I 'member the Yankees come and took us chillun and the old folks to +Vicksburg. I 'member the old man that seed after the chillun while their +parents was gone, he said I was eight when freedom come. We didn't know +nothin' 'bout our ages--didn't have 'nough sense. + +"My parents come back after surrender and stayed on my owner's +place--John Scott's place. We had three masters--three brothers. + +"I been in Arkansas twenty years--right here. I bought this home. + +"I married my husband in Mississippi. We farmed. + +"The Lord uses me as a prophet and after my husband died, the Lord sent +me to Arkansas to tell the people. He called me out of the church. I +been out of the church now thirty-three years. Seems like all they think +about in the churches now is money, so the Lord called me out." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Emmett Beal, Biscoe, Arkansas +Age: 78 + + +"I was born in Holloman County, Bolivar, Tennessee. Master Dr. Jim May +owned my set er folks. He had two girls and two boys. I reckon he had a +wife but I don't recollect seeing her. Ma suckled me; William May with +me. Ely and Seley and Susie was his children. + +"I churned for mama in slavery. She tied a cloth around the top so no +flies get in. I better hadn't let no fly get in the churn. She take me +out to a peach tree and learn me how to keep the flies outen the churn +next time. + +"Mama was Dr. May's cook. We et out the dishes but I don't know how all +of 'em done their eating. They eat at their houses. Dr. May had a good +size bunch of hands, not a big crowd. We had straw beds. Made new ones +every summer. In that country they didn't 'low you to beat yo' hands up. +I heard my folks say that more'n one time. + +"Dr. May come tole 'em it was freedom. They could get land and stay--all +'at wanted to. All his old ones kept on wid him. They sharecropped and +some of them got a third. I recollect him and worked for him. + +"The Ku Klux didn't bother none of us. Dr. May wouldn't 'low them on his +place. + +"Mama come out here in 1880. I figured there better land out here and I +followed her in 1881. We paid our own ways. Seem like the owners ought +to give the slaves something but seem like they was mad 'cause they set +us free. Ma was named Viney May and pa, Nick May. + +"Pa and four or five brothers was sold in Memphis. He never seen his +brothers no more. They come to Arkansas. + +"Pa and Dr. May went to war. The Yankees drafted pa and he come back to +Dr. May after he fit. He got his lip split open in the War. Dr. May come +home and worked his slaves. He didn't stay long in war. + +"I reckon they had plenty to eat at home. They didn't run to the stores +every day 'bout starved to death like I has to do now. Ma said they +didn't 'low the overseers to whoop too much er Dr. May would turn them +off. + +"Er horse stomped on my foot eight years ago. I didn't pay it much +'tention. It didn't hurt. Blood-p'ison come in it and they took me to +the horsepital and my leg had to come off, (at the knee). + +"We have to go back to Africa to vote all the 'lections. Voting brings +up more hard feelings." + + + + +Interviewer: Pernella Anderson, colored. + + +_EX-SLAVES_ + +Yes I was born in slavery time. I was born September 2, 1862 in the +field under a tree. I don't know nothing about slavery. I was too young +to remember anything about slavery. But I tell you this much, times +ain't like they used to be. There was easy living back in the 18 hundred +years. People wore homemade clothes, what I mean homespun and lowell +clothes. My ma spun and weaved all of her cloth. We wore our dresses +down to our ankles in length and my dresses was called mother hubbards. +The skirts had about three yards circumference and we wore plenty of +clothes under our dress. We did not go necked like these folks do now. +Folk did not know how we was made. We did not show our shape, we did not +disgrace ourself back in 1800. We wore our hair wrapped and head rags +tied on our head. I went barefooted until I was a young missie then I +wore shoes in the winter but I still went barefooted in the summer. My +papa was a shoemaker so he made our shoes. We raised everything that we +ate when I was a chap. We ate a plenty. We raised plenty of whippowell +peas. That was the only kind of peas there was then. We raised plenty +Moodie sweet potatoes they call them nigger chokers now. We had cows so +we had plenty of milk and butter. We cooked on the fireplace. The first +stove I cooked on was a white woman's stove, that was 1890. + +I never chanced to go to school because where we lived there wasn't no +school. I worked all of the time. In fact that was all we knew. White +people did not see where negroes needed any learning so we had to work. +We lived on a place with some white people by the name of Dunn. They +were good people but they taken all that was made because we did not +know. I ain't never been sick in my life and I have never had a doctor +in my life. I am in good health now. + +We traveled horseback in the years of 1800. We did not ride straddle the +horse's back we rode sideways. The old folks wore their dreses dragging +the ground. We chaps called everybody old that married. We respected +them because they was considered as being old. Time has made a change. + + +--Dina Beard, Douglas Addition. + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Annie Beck, West Memphis, Arkansas +Age: 50 + + +"I was born in Mississippi. Mama was born in Alabama and sold to +Holcomb, Mississippi. Her owner was Master Beard. She was a field woman. +They took her in a stage-coach. Their owner wanted to keep it a secret +about freedom. But he had a brother that fussed with him all the time +and he told the slaves they was all free. Mama said they was pretty good +always to her for it to be slavery, but papa said his owners wasn't so +good to him. He was sold in Richmond, Virginia to Master Thomas at +Grenada, Mississippi. He was a plain farming man." + + + + +Interviewer: Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: J.H. Beckwith + 619 North Spruce Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 68 + + +"No ma'm I was not born in the time of slavery. I was sixty-eight last +Friday. I was born November 18, 1870 in Johnson County, North Carolina. + +"My mother was born in Georgia and her name was Gracie Barum. Father was +born in North Carolina. His name was Rufus Beckwith. He belonged to +Doctor Beckwith and mother, I think, belonged to Tom Barum. Barum was +just an ordinary farmer. He was just a second or third class +farmer--just poor white folks. I think my mother was the only slave he +owned. + +"My father had to walk seven miles every Saturday night to see my mother, +and be back before sunrise Monday. + +"My parents had at least three or four children born in slavery. I know +my father said he worked at night and made shoes for his family. + +"My father was a mulatto. He had a negro mother and a white father. He +had a mechanical talent. He seemed to be somewhat of a genius. He had a +productive mind. He could do blacksmithing, carpenter work, brick work +and shoe work. + +"Father was married twice. He raised ten children by each wife. I think +my mother had fifteen children and I was the the thirteenth child. I am +the only boy among the first set, called to the ministry. And there was +one in the second set. Father learned to read and write after freedom. + +"After freedom he sent my oldest brother and sister to Hampton, Virginia +and they were graduated from Hampton Institute and later taught school. +They were graduated from the same school Booker T. Washington was. He +got his idea of vocational education there. + +"I haven't had much education. I went as far as the eighth grade. The +biggest education I have had was in the Conference. + +"I joined the Little Rock General Conference at Texarkana in 1914. This +was the Methodist Episcopal, North, and I was ordained as a deacon and +later an elder by white bishops. Then in 1930 I joined the African +Methodist. + +"By trade I am a carpenter and bricklayer. I served an apprentice under +my father and under a German contractor. + +"I used to be called the best negro journeyman carpenter between Monroe, +Louisiana and Little Rock, Arkansas. + +"I made quite a success in my trade. I have a couple of United States +Patent Rights. One is a brick mold holding ten bricks and used to make +bricks of concrete. The other is a sliding door. (See attached drawings) +[TR: Drawings missing.] + +"I was in the mercantile business two and one-half years in Sevier +County. I sold that because it was too confining and returned to the +carpenter's trade. I still practice my trade some now. + +"I have not had to ask help from anyone. I have helped others. I own my +home and I sent my daughter to Fisk University where she was graduated. +While there she met a young man and they were later married and now live +in Chicago. They own their home and are doing well. + +"In my work in the ministry I am trying to teach my people to have +higher ideals. We have to bring our race to that high ideal of race +integrity. I am trying to keep the negro from thinking he is hated by +the upper class of white people. What the negro needs is +self-consciousness to the extent that he aspires to the higher +principles in order to stand on an equal plane in attainment but not in +a social way. + +"At present, the negro's ideals are too low for him to visualize the +evils involved in race mixture. He needs to be lifted in his own +estimation and learn that a race cannot be estimated by other races--by +anything else but their own ideals. + +"The younger generation is off on a tangent. They'll have to hit +something before they stop. + +"The salvation of our people--of all people--white and colored, is +leadership. We've got to have vision and try to give the people vision. +Not to live for ourselves but for all. The present generation is +selfish. The life should flow out and as it flows out it makes room for +more life. If it does not flow out, it congeals and ferments. +Selfishness is just like damming a stream. + +"I think Woodrow Wilson won the World War with his fourteen points of +democracy. If the people of foreign countries had not that old +imperialism sentiment, the Jew would not be where he is today." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +This man is the best informed and most sensible negro I have +interviewed. In the room where I interviewed him, were a piano, a radio, +many ferns, a wool rug, chairs, divan, and a table on which were books +including a set of the Standard History of the World. I asked if he had +read the history and he replied, "Not all of it but I have read the +volumes pertaining to the neolithic age." + +On the walls were several pictures and two tapestries. + +The house was a good frame one and electric current was used. + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Enoch Beel; Green Grove, Hazen, Arkansas +Age: 79 + + +"Yes maam I was born a slave, born in slavery times. I wer born in +Hardman County, Tennessee. My own daddy was a Union soldier and my mama +was a cook fer the mistress. We belonged to Miss Viney and Dr. Jim Mass. +My daddy drawed a pension fer bein a soldier till he die. He went off to +wait on some men he know. Then he met some men wanted him to join the +army. They said then he get paid and get a bounty. No maam he never got +a red cent. He come back broke as he went off. He say he turned loose +soon as he could and mustered out and lef them right now. He had no time +to ax em no questions. That what he said! We stayed on that place till I +was big nuf to do a days work. We had no other place to go. There was +plenty land and no stock. Houses to stay in got scarce. If a family had +a place to stay at when that war ended he counted hisself lucky I tell +you. Heap of black an white jes ramlin round through the woods an over +the roads huntin a little to eat or a little sumpin to do. If you stay +in the field workin about puttin back the fences an round yo own house +you wouldn't be hurt. + +"The Ku Kluxes war not huntin work theirselves. They was keepin order at +the gatherins and down the public roads. Folks had came toted off all +the folks made in the crops till they don't call nuthin stealin'. They +whooped em and made em ride on rails. I don't know all the carrings on +did take place. I sho would been scared if I seed em comin to me. We +left Dr. Mass and went to Grain, Tennessee. I had three sisters and +half-brothers. I don't remember how many, some dead. I farmed all my +life. Everybody said the land was so much better and newer out in +Arkansas. When I married I come to Tomberlin and worked fer Sam Dardnne +bout twelve years. Then I rented from Jim Hicks at England. I rented +from one of the Carlley boys and Jim Neelam. When I very fust come here +I worked at Helena on a farm one year. When I got my leg taken off it +cost bout all I ever had cumlated. I lives on my sister's place. Henry +Bratcher's wife out at Green Grove. The Wellfare give me $8 cause I +caint get bout. + +"I don't know bout the times. It is so unsettled. Folks want work caint +get it and some won't work that could. You caint get help so you can +make a crop of your own no more, fer sometimes is close." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Sophie D. Belle, Forrest City, Arkansas +Age: 77 + + +"I was born near Knoxville, Georgia. My mother was a professional pastry +cook. She was a house woman during slavery. She was owned by Lewis Hicks +and Ann Hicks. They had Saluda, Mary, Lewis, and Oscar. + +"Mother was never sold. Mr. Hicks reared her. She was three-fourths +Indian. Her father was George Hicks. Gordon carried him to Texas. Mr. +Bob Gordon was mean. He asked Mr. Hicks to keep mother and auntie while +he went to Texas, Mr. Gordon was so mean. My mother had two little girls +but my sister died while small. + +"I never saw any one sold. I never saw a soldier. But I noticed the +grown people whispering many times. Mother explained it to me, they had +some news from the War. Aunt Jane said she saw them pass in gangs. I +heard her say, 'Did you see the soldiers pass early this morning?' I was +asleep. Sometimes I was out at play when they passed. + +"Master Hicks called us all up at dinner one day to the big house. He +told us, 'You are free as I am.' I never had worked any then. No, they +cried and went on to their homes. Aunt Jane was bad to speak out, she +was so much Indian. She had three children. She went to another place to +live. She was in search of her husband and thought he might be there at +Ft. Valley. + +"Mother stayed on another year. Mr. Hicks was good to us. None of the +children ever worked till they was ten or twelve years old. He had a lot +of slaves and about twenty-five children on the place growing. He had +just a big plantation. He had a special cook, Aunt Mariah, to cook for +the field hands. They eat like he did. Master Hicks would examine their +buckets and a great big split basket. If they didn't have enough to eat +he would have her cook more and send to them. They had nice victuals to +eat. He had a bell to ring for all the children to be put to bed at +sundown and they slept late. He said, 'Let them grow.' Their diet was +milk and bread and eggs. We had duck eggs, guinea eggs, goose eggs, and +turkey eggs. + +"I don't know what all the slaves had but mother had feather beds. They +saved all kind of feathers to make pillows and bed and chair cushions. +We always had a pet pig about our place. Master Hicks kept a drove of +pea-fowls. He had cows, goats, sheep. We children loved the lambs. +Elvira attended to the milk. She had some of the girls and boys to milk. +Uncle Dick, mother's brother, was Mr. Hicks' coachman. He was raised on +the place too. + +"I think Master Hicks and his family was French, but, though they were +light-skin people. They had light hair too, I think. + +"One day a Frenchman (white) that was a doctor come to call. My Aunt +Jane said to me, 'He is your papa. That is your papa.' I saw him many +times after that. I am considered eight-ninth white race. One little +girl up at the courthouse asked me a question and I told her she was too +young to know about such sin. (This girl was twenty-four years old and +the case worker's stenographer.) + +"Master Hicks had Uncle Patrick bury his silver and gold in the woods. +It was in a trunk. The hair and hide was still on the trunk when the War +ceased. He used his money to pay the slaves that worked on his place +after freedom. + +"I went to school to a white man from January till May and mother paid +him one dollar a month tuition. After I married I went to school three +terms. I married quite young. Everyone did that far back. + +"I married at Aunt Jane's home. We got married and had dinner at one or +two o'clock. Very quiet. Only a few friends and my relatives. I wore a +green wool traveling dress. It was trimmed in black velvet and black +beads. I married in a hat. At about seven o'clock we went to ny +husband's home at Perry, Georgia. He owned a new buggy. We rode thirty +miles. We had a colored minister to marry us. He was a painter and a +fine provider. He died. I had no children. + +"I came to Forrest City 1874. There was three dry-goods and grocery +stores and two saloons here--five stores in all. I come alone. Aunt Jane +and Uncle Sol had migrated here. My mother come with me. There was one +railroad through here. I belong to the Baptist church. + +"I married the second time at Muskogee, Oklahoma. My husband lived out +there. He was Indian-African. He was a Baptist minister. We never had +any children. I never had a child. They tell me now if I had married +dark men I would maybe had children. I married very light men both +times. + +"I washed and ironed, cooked and kept house. I sewed for the public, +black and white. I washed and ironed for Mrs. Grahan at Crockettsville +twenty-three years and three months. I inherited a home here. Owned a +home here in Forrest City once. I live with my cousin here. He uses that +house for his study. He is a Baptist minister. (The church is in front +of their home--a very nice new brick church--ed.) I'm blind now or I +could still sew, wash and iron some maybe. + +"I get eight dollars from the Social Welfare. I do my own cooking in the +kitchen. I am seventy-seven years old. I try to live as good as my age. +Every year I try to live a little better, 'A little sweeter as the years +go by.'" + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Cyrus Bellus + 1320 Pulaski Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 73 + + +[HW: Made Own Cloth] + +"I was born in Mississippi in 1865 in Jefferson County. It was on the +tenth of March. My father's name was Cyrus Bellus, the same as mine. My +mother's name was Matilda Bellus. + +"My father's master was David Hunt. My father and mother both belonged +to him. They had the same master. I don't know the names of my +grandfather and mother. I think they were Jordons. No, I know my +grandmother's name was Annie Hall, and my grandfather's name was Stephen +Hall. Those were my mother's grandparents. My father's father was named +John Major and his mother was named Dinah Major. They belonged to the +Hunts. I don't know why the names was different. I guess he wasn't their +first master. + + +Slave Sales, Whippings, Work + +"I have heard my folks talk about how they were traded off and how they +used to have to work. Their master wouldn't allow them to whip his +hands. No, it was the mistress that wouldn't allow them to be whipped. +They had hot words about that sometimes. + +"The slaves had to weave cotton and knit sox. Sometimes they would work +all night, weaving cloth, and spinning thread. The spinning would be +done first. They would make cloth for all the hands on the place. + +"They used to have tanning vats to make shoes with too. Old master +didn't know what it was to buy shoes. Had a man there to make them. + +"My father and mother were both field hands. They didn't weave or spin. +My grandmother on my mother's side did that. They were supposed to +pick--the man, four hundred pounds of cotton, and the woman three +hundred. And that was gittin' some cotton. If they didn't come up to the +task, they was took out and give a whipping. The overseer would do the +thrashing. The old mistress and master wouldn't agree on that whipping. + + +Fun + +"The slaves were allowed to get out and have their fun and play and +'musement for so many hours. Outside of those hours, they had to be +found in their house. They had to use fiddles. They had dancing just +like the boys do now. They had knockin' and rasslin' and all such like +now. + + +Church + +"So for as serving God was concerned, they had to take a kettle and turn +it down bottom upward and then old master couldn't hear the singing and +prayin'. I don't know just how they turned the kettle to keep the noise +from goin' out. But I heard my father and mother say they did it. The +kettle would be on the inside of the cabin, not on the outside. + + +House, Furniture, Food + +"The slaves lived in log houses instead of ones like now with +weather-boarding. The two ends duffed in. They always had them so they +would hold a nice family. Never had any partitions to make rooms. It was +just a straight long house with one window and one door. + +"Provisions were weighed out to them. They were allowed four pounds of +meat and a peck of meal for each working person. They only provided for +the working folks. If I had eight in a family, I would just get the same +amount. There was no provisions for children. + +"But all the children on the place were given something from the big +house. The working folks ate their breakfast before daylight in the log +cabin where they lived. They ate their supper at home too. They was +allowed to get back home by seven or eight o'clock. The slaves on my +place never ate together. I don't know anything about that kind of +feeding. + +"They had nurses, old folks that weren't able to work any longer. All +the children would go to the same place to be cared for and the old +people would look after them. They wasn't able to work, you know. They +fed the children during the day. + + +How Freedom Came + +"My father and mother and grandmother said the overseer told them that +they were free. I guess that was in 1865, the same year I was born. The +overseer told them that they didn't have any owner now. They was free +folks. The boss man told them too--had them to come up to the big house +and told them they had to look out for themselves now because they were +free as he was. + + +Right After the War + +"Right after emancipation, my folks were freed. The boss man told them +they could work by the day or sharecrop or they could work by groups. A +group of folks could go together and work and the boss man would pay +them so much a day. I believe they worked for him a good while--about +seven or eight years at least. They was in one of the groups. + + +Earliest Recollections + +"My own earliest recollections was of picking cotton in one of those +squads--the groups I was telling you about. After that, the people got +to renting land and renting stock for themselves. They sharecropped +then. It seems to me that everybody was satisfied. I don't remember any +one saying that he was cheated or beat out of anything. + + +Schooling + +"We had a public school to open in Jefferson County, Mississippi. We +called it Dobbins Bridge. There was a bridge about a mile long built +across the creek. We had two colored women for teachers. Their names was +Mary Howard and Hester Harris. They only used two teachers in that +school. I attended there three years to those same two women. + +"We had a large family and I quit to help take care of it. + + +Ku Klux + +"I don't think there was much disturbance from the Ku Klux on that +plantation. The colored folks didn't take much part in politics. + + +Later Life + +"I stopped school and went to work for good at about fifteen years. I +worked at the field on that same plantation I told you about. I worked +there for just about ten years. Then I farmed at the same place on +shares. I stayed there till I was 'bout twenty-six years old. Then I +moved to Wilderness Place in the Cotton Belt in Mississippi. I farmed +there for two years. + +"I farmed around Greenville, Mississippi for a while. Then I left +Greenville and came to Arkansas. I come straight to Little Rock. The +first thing I did I went into the lumber grading. I wasn't trained to +it, but I went into it at the request of the men who employed me. I +stayed in that eight years. I learned the lumber grading and checking. +Checking is seeing the size and width and length and kind of lumber and +seeing how much of it there is in a car without taking it out, you know. + +"I married about 1932. My wife is dead. We never had any children. + +"I haven't worked any now in five years. I have been to the hospital in +the east end. I get old age assistance--eight dollars and commodities." + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Bob Benford + 209 N. Maple Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 79 + + +"Slavery-time folks? Here's one of em. Near as I can get at it, I'se +seventy-nine. I was born in Alabama. My white folks said I come from +Perry County, Alabama, but I come here to this Arkansas country when I +was small. + +"My old master was Jim Ad Benford. He was good to us. I'm goin' to tell +you we was better off then than now. Yes ma'am, they treated us right. +We didn't have to worry bout payin' the doctor and had plenty to eat. + +"I recollect the shoemaker come and measured my feet and directly he'd +bring me old red russet shoes. I thought they was the prettiest things I +ever saw in my life. + +"Old mistress would say, 'Come on here, you little niggers' and she'd +sprinkle sugar on the meat block and we'd just lick sugar. + +"I remember the soldiers good, had on blue suits with brass buttons. + +"I'se big enough to ride old master's hoss to water. He'd say, 'Now, +Bob, don't you run that hoss' but when I got out of sight, I was bound +to run that hoss a little. + +"I didn't have to work, just stayed in the house with my mammy. She was +a seamstress. I'm tellin' you the truth now. I can tell it at night as +well as daytime. + +"We lived in Union County. Old master had a lot of hands. Old mistress' +name was Miss Sallie Benford. She just as good as she could be. She'd +come out to the quarters to see how we was gettin' along. I'd be so glad +when Christmas come. We'd have hog killin' and I'd get the bladders and +blow em up to make noise--you know. Yes, lady, we'd have a time. + +"I recollect when Marse Jim broke up and went to Texas. Stayed there +bout a year and come back. [HW: migration?] + +"When the war was over I recollect they said we was free but I didn't +know what that meant. I was always free. + +"After freedom mammy stayed there on the place and worked on the shares. +I don't know nothin' bout my father. They said he was a white man. + +"I remember I was out in the field with mammy and had a old mule. I +punched him with a stick and he come back with them hoofs and kicked me +right in the jaw--knocked me dead. Lord, lady, I had to eat mush till I +don't like mush today. That was old Mose--he was a saddle mule. + +"Me? I ain't been to school a day in my life. If I had a chance to go I +didn't know it. I had to help mammy work. I recollect one time when she +was sick I got into a fight and she cried and said, 'That's the way you +does my child' and I know she died next week. + +"After that I worked here and there. I remember the first run I worked +for was Kinch McKinney of El Dorado. + +"I remember when I was just learnin' to plow, old mule knew five hundred +times more than I did. He was graduated and he learnt me. + +"I made fifty-seven crops in my lifetime. Me and Hance Chapman--he was +my witness when I married--we made four bales that year. That was in +1879. His father got two bales and Hance and me got two. I made money +every year. Yes ma'am, I have made some money in my day. When I moved +from Louisiana to Arkansas I sold one hundred eighty acres of land and +three hundred head of hogs. I come up here cause my chillun was here and +my wife wanted to come here. You know how people will stroll when they +get grown. Lost everything I had. Bought a little farm here and they +wouldn't let me raise but two acres of cotton the last year I farmed and +I couldn't make my payments with that. Made me plow up some of the +prettiest cotton I ever saw and I never got a cent for it. + +"Lady, nobody don't know how old people is treated nowdays. But I'm +livin' and I thank the Lord. I'm so glad the Lord sent you here, lady. I +been once a man and twice a child. You know when you're tellin' the +truth, you can tell it all the time. + +"Klu Klux? The Lord have mercy! In '74 and '75 saw em but never was +bothered by a white man in my life. Never been arrested and never had a +lawsuit in my life. I can go down here and talk to these officers any +time. + +"Yes ma'am, I used to vote. Never had no trouble. I don't know what +ticket I voted. We just voted for the man we wanted. Used to have +colored men on the grand jury--half and half--and then got down to one +and then knocked em all out. + +"I never done no public work in my life but when you said farmin' you +hit me then. + +"Nother thing I never done. I bought two counterpins once in my life on +the stallments and ain't never bought nothin' since that way. Yes ma'am, +I got a bait of that stallment buying. That's been forty years ago. + +"I know one time when I was livin' in Louisiana, we had a teacher named +Arvin Nichols. He taught there seventeen years and one time he passed +some white ladies and tipped his hat and went on and fore sundown they +had him arrested. Some of the white men who knew him went to court and +said what had he done, and they cleared him right away. That was in the +'80's in Marion, Louisiana, in Union Parish." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Carrie Bradley Logan Bennet, Helena, Arkansas +Age: 79 plus + + +"I was born not a great piece from Mobile but it was in Mississippi in +the country. My mother b'long to Massa Tom Logan. He was a horse trader. +He got drowned in 1863--durin' of the War, the old war. His wife was +Miss Liza Jane. They had several children and some gone from home I jus' +seed when they be on visits home. The ones at home I can recollect was +Tiney, John, Bill, and Alex. I played wid Tiney and nursed Bill and Alex +was a baby when Massa Tom got drowned. + +"We never knowed how Massa Tom got drowned. They brought him home and +buried him. His horse come home. He had been in the water, water was +froze on the saddle. They said it was water soaked. They thought he swum +the branch. Massa Tom drunk some. We never did know what did happen. I +didn't know much 'bout 'em. + +"He had two or three families of slaves. Ma cooked, washed and ironed +for all on the place. She went to the field in busy times. Three of the +men drove horses, tended to 'em. They fed 'em and curried and sheared +'em. Ma said Massa Tom sure thought a heap of his niggers and fine +stock. They'd bring in three or four droves of horses and mules, care +fer 'em, take 'em out sell 'em. They go out and get droves, feed 'em up +till they looked like different from what you see come there. He'd sell +'em in the early part of the year. He did make money. I know he muster. +My pa was the head blacksmith on Masaa Tom's place, them other men +helped him along. + +"I heard ma say no better hearted man ever live than Massa Tom if you +ketch him sober. He give his men a drink whiskey 'round every once in +awhile. I don't know what Miss Liza Jane could do 'bout it. She never +done nothin' as ever I knowed. They sent apples off to the press and all +of us drunk much cider when it come home as we could hold and had some +long as it lasts. It turn to vinegar. I heard my pa laughing 'bout the +time Massa Tom had the Blue Devils. He was p'isoned well as I understood +it. It muster been on whiskey and something else. I never knowed it. His +men had to take keer of 'em. He acted so much like he be crazy they +laughed 'bout things he do. He got over it. + +"Old mistress--we all called her Miss Liza Jane--whooped us when she +wanted to. She brush us all out wid the broom, tell us go build a play +house. Children made the prettiest kinds of play houses them days. We +mede the walls outer bark sometimes. We jus' marked it off on the ground +out back of the smokehouse. We'd ride and bring up the cows. We'd take +the meal to a mill. It was the best hoecake bread can be made. It was +water ground meal. + +"We had a plenty to eat, jus' common eatin'. We had good cane molasses +all the tine. The clothes was thin 'bout all time 'ceptin' when they be +new and stubby. We got new clothes in the fall of the year. They last +till next year. + +"I never seed Massa Tom whoop nobody. I seen Miss Liza Jane turn up the +little children's dresses and whoop 'em with a little switch, and +straws, and her hand. She 'most blister you wid her bare hand. Plenty +things we done to get whoopin's. We leave the gates open; we'd run the +calves and try to ride 'em; we'd chunk at the geese. One thing that make +her so mad was for us to climb up in her fruit trees and break off a +limb. She wouldn't let us be eating the green fruit mostly 'cause it +would make us sick. They had plenty trees. We had plenty fruit to eat +when it was ripe. Massa Tom's little colored boys have big ears. He'd +pull 'em every time he pass one of 'em. He didn't hurt 'em but it might +have made their ears stick out. They all had big ears. He never slapped +nobody as ever I heard 'bout. + +"I don't know how my parents was sold. I'm sure they was sold. Pa's name +ivas Jim Bradley (Bradly). He come from one of the Carolinas. Ma was +brought to Mississippi from Georgia. All the name I heard fer her was +Ella Logan. When freedom cone on, I heard pa say he thought he stand a +chance to find his folks and them to find him if he be called Bradley. +He did find some of his brothers, and ma had some of her folks out in +Mississippi. They come out here hunting places to do better. They wasn't +no Bradleys. I was little and I don't recollect their names. Seem lack +one family we called Aunt Mandy Thornton. One was Aunt Tillie and Uncle +Mack. They wasn't Thorntons. I knows that. + +"My folks was black, black as I is. Pa was stocky, guinea man. Ma was +heap the biggest. She was rawbony and tall. I love to see her wash. She +could bend 'round the easier ever I seed anybody. She could beat the +clothes in a hurry. She put out big washings, on the bushes and a cord +they wove and on the fences. They had paling fence 'round the garden. + +"Massa Tom didn't have a big farm. He had a lot of mules and horses at +times. They raised some cotton but mostly corn and oats. Miss Liza Jane +left b'fore us. We all cried when she left. She shut up the house and +give the women folks all the keys. We lived on what she left there and +went on raising more hogs and tending to the cows. We left everything. +We come to Hernando, Mississippi. Pa farmed up there and run his +blacksmith shop on the side. My parents died close to Horn Lake. Mama +was the mother of ten and I am the mother of eight. I got two living, +one here and one in Memphis. I lives wid 'em and one niece in Natches I +live with some. + +"I was scared to death of the Ku Klux Klan. They come to our house one +night and I took my little brother and we crawled under the house and +got up in the fireplace. It was big 'nough fer us to sit. We went to +sleep. We crawled out next day. We seen 'em coming, run behind the house +and crawled under there. They knocked about there a pretty good while. +We told the folks about it. I don't know where they could er been. I +forgot it been so long. I was 'fraider of the Ku Klux Klan den I ever +been 'bout snakes. No snakes 'bout our house. Too many of us. + +"I tried to get some aid when it first come 'bout but I quit. My +children and my niece take keer or me. I ain't wantin' fer nothin' but +good health. I never do feel good. I done wore out. I worked in the +field all my life. + +"A heap of dis young generation is triflin' as they can be. They don't +half work. Some do work hard and no 'pendence to be put in some 'em. +'Course they steal 'fo' dey work. I say some of 'em work. Times done got +so fer 'head of me I never 'speck to ketch-up. I never was scared of +horses. I sure is dese automobiles. I ain't plannin' no rides on them +airplanes. Sure you born I ain't. Folks ain't acting lack they used to. +They say so I got all I can get you can do dout. It didn't used to be no +sich way. Times is heap better but heap of folks is worse 'an ever folks +been before." + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: George Benson, + Ezell Quarters, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 80 +Occupation: Cotton Farmer + + +"I was here in slavery days--yes ma'm, I was here. When I come here, +colored people didn't have their ages. The boss man had it. After +surrender, boss man told me I ought to keep up with my age, it'd be a +use to me some day, but I didn't do it. + +"I member the soldiers would play with me when they wasn't on duty. That +was the Yankees. + +"I was born down here on Dr. Waters' place. Born right here in Arkansas +and ain't been outa Arkansas since I was born. So far as I know, Dr. +Waters was good to us. I don't know how old I was. I know I used to go +to the house with my mother and piddle around. + +"My father jined the Yankees and he died in the army. I heered the old +people talkin', sayin' we was goin' to be free. You _know_ I didn't +have much sense cause I was down on the river bank and the Yankees was +shootin' across the river and I said, 'John, you quit that shootin'!' So +you know I didn't have much sense. + +"I can remember old man Curtaindall had these nigger dogs. Had to go up +a tree to keep em from bitin' you. Dr. Waters would have us take the +cotton and hide it in the swamp to keep the Yankees from burnin' it but +they'd find it some way. + +"Never went to school over two months in all my goin's. We always lived +in a place kinda unhandy to go to school. First teacher I had was named +Mr. Bell. I think he was a northern man. + +"All my life I been farmin'--still do. Been many a day since I sold a +bale a cotton myself. White man does the ginnin' and packin'. All I do +is raise it. I'm farmin' on the shares and I think if I raise four bales +I ought to have two bales to sell and boss man two bales, but it ain't +that way. + +"I voted ever since I got to be a man grown. That is--as long as I could +vote. You know--got so now they won't let you vote. I don't think a +person is free unless he can vote, do you? The way this thing is goin', +I don't think the white man wants the colored man to have as much as the +white man. + +"When I could vote, I jus' voted what they told me to vote. Oh Lord, +yes, I voted for Garfield. I'se quainted with him--I knowed his name. +Let's see--Powell Clayton--was he one of the presidents? I voted for +him. And I voted for McKinley. I think he was the last one I voted for. + +"I been farmin' all my life and what have I got? Nothin'. Old age +pension? I may be in glory time I get it and then what would become of +my wife?" + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Kato Benton + Creed Taylor Place, Tamo Pike + Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 78 + + +"I was born in South Carolina before the War. I ain't no baby. I wasn't +raised here. No ma'am. + +"My daddy's name was Chance Ayers and my mammy's name was Mary Ayers. So +I guess the white folks was named Ayers. + +"White folks was good to us. Had plenty to eat, plenty to wear, plenty +to drink. That was water. Didn't have no whisky. Might a had some but +they didn't give us none. + +"Oh, yes ma'am, I got plenty kin folks. Oh, yes ma'am, I wish I was back +there but I can't get back. I been here so long I likes Arkansas now. + +"My mammy give me away after freedom and I ain't seed her since. She +give me to a colored man and I tell you he was a devil untied. He was so +mean I run away to a white man's house. But he come and got me and +nearly beat me to death. Then I run away again and I ain't seed him +since. + +"I had a hard time comin' up in this world but I'm livin' yet, somehow +or other. + +"I didn't work in no field much. I washed and ironed and cleaned up the +house for the white folks. Yes ma'am! + +"No ma'am, I ain't never been married in my life. I been ba'chin'. I get +along so fine and nice without marryin'. I never did care anything 'bout +that. I treat the women nice--speak to 'em, but just let 'em pass on by. + +"I never went to school in my life. Never learned to read or write. If I +had went to school, maybe I'd know more than I know now. + +"These young folks comin' on is pretty rough. I don't have nothin' to do +with 'em--they is too rough for me. They is a heap wuss than they was in +my day--some of 'em. + +"I gets along pretty well. The Welfare gives me eight dollars a month." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: James Bertrand + 1501 Maple Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 68 + + +[HW: "Pateroles" Botlund Father] + +"I have heard my father tell about slavery and about the Ku Klux Klan +bunch and about the paterole bunch and things like that. I am +sixty-eight years old now. Sixty-eight years old! That would be about +five years after the War that I was born. That would be about 1870, +wouldn't it? I was born in Jefferson County, Arkansas, near Pine Bluff. + +"My father's name was Mack Bertrand. My mother's name was Lucretia. Her +name before she married was Jackson. My father's owners were named +Bertrands. I don't know the name of my mother's owners. I don't know the +names of any of my grandparents. My father's owners were farmers. + +"I never saw the old plantation they used to live on. My father never +told me how it looked. But he told me he was a farmer--that's all. He +knew farming. He used to tell me that the slaves worked from sunup till +sundown. His overseers were very good to him. They never did whip him. I +don't know that he was ever sold. I don't know how he met my mother. + +"Out in the field, the man had to pick three hundred pounds of cotton, +and the women had to pick two hundred pounds. I used to hear my mother +talk about weaving the yarn and making the cloth and making clothes out +of the cloth that had been woven. They used to make everything they +wore--clothes and socks and shoes. + +"I am the youngest child in the bunch and all the older ones are dead. +My mother was the mother of about thirteen children. Ten or more of them +were born in slavery. My mother worked practically all the time in the +house. She was a house worker mostly. + +"My father was bothered by the pateroles. You see they wouldn't let you +go about if you didn't have a pass. Father would often get out and go +'round to see his friends. The pateroles would catch him and lash him a +little and let him go. They never would whip him much. My mother's +people were good to her. She never did have any complaint about them. + +"For amusement the slaves used to dance and go to balls. Fiddle and +dance! I never heard my father speak of any other type of amusement. + +"I don't remember what the old man said about freedom coming. Right +after the War, he farmed. He stayed right on with his master. He left +there before I was born and moved up near Pine Bluff where I was born. +The place my father was brought up on was near Pine Bluff too. It was +about twenty miles from Pine Bluff. + +"I remember hearing him say that the Ku Klux Klan used to come to see us +at night. But father was always orderly and they never had no clue +against him. He never was whipped by the Ku Klux. + +"My father never got any schooling. He never could read or write. He +said that they treated him pretty fair though on the farms where he +worked after freedom. As far as he could figure, they didn't cheat him. +I never had any personal experience with the Ku Klux. I never did do any +sharecropping. I am a shoemaker. I learned my trade from my father. My +father was a shoemaker as well as a farmer. He used to tell me that he +made shoes for the Negroes and for the old master too in slavery times. + +"I have lived in Little Rock thirty years. I was born right down here in +Pine Bluff like I told you. This is the biggest town--a little bigger +than Pine Bluff. I run around on the railroad a great deal. So after a +while I just come here to this town and made it my home." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person Interviewed: Alice Biggs + Holly Grove, Ark. +Age: "Bout 70" + + +"My mother come from Kentucky and my father from Virginia. That where +they born and I born close to Byihalia, Mississippi. My father was Louis +Anthony and mama name Charlotte Anthony. + +"Grandma and her children was sold in a lump. They wasn't separated. +Grandpa was a waiter on the Confederate side. He never come back. He +died in Pennsylvania; another man come back reported that. He was a +colored waitin' man too. Grandma been dead 49 years now. + +"Mama was a wash woman and a cook. They liked her. I don't remember my +father; he went off with Anthony. They lived close to Nashville, +Tennessee. He never come back. Mama lived at Nashville a while. The +master they had at the closin' of the war was good to grandma and mama. +It was Barnie Hardy and Old Kiss, all I ever heard her called. They +stayed on a while. They liked us. Held run us off if he'd had any +bother. + +"The Ku Klux never come bout Barnie Hardy's place. He told em at town +not to bother his place. + +"I never wanted to vote. I don't know how. I am too old to try tricks +new as that now. + +"Honey, I been workinr in the field all my life. I'm what you call a +country nigger. I is a widow--just me an my son in family. Our home is +fair. We got two hundred acres of land, one cow and five hogs--pigs and +all. + +"The present conditions is kind of strange. With us it is just +up-and-down-hill times. I ain't had no dealins with the young +generation. Course my son would tell you about em, but I can't. He goes +out a heap more an I do. + +"I don't get no pension. I never signed up. I gets long best I can." + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Mandy Billings + 3101 W. 14th Highland Add., Pine Bluff, Ark. +Age: 84 + + +"Now I was born in 1854. That was in slavery times. That wasn't yistiday +was it? Born in Louisiana, in Sparta--that was the county seat. + +"Bill Otts was my last owner. You see, how come me sold my mother was my +grandfather's baby chile and his owner promised not to separate him nary +time again. It was in the time of the Old War. Charles McLaughlin--that +was my old master--he was my father and Bill Otts, he bought my mother, +and she was sold on that account. Old Master Charles' wife wouldn't 'low +her to stay. I'm tellin' it just like they told it to me. + +"We stayed with Bill Otts till we was free, and after too. My +grandfather had to steal me away. My stepfather had me made over to Bill +Otts. You know they didn't have no sheriff in them days--had a provost +marshal. + +"As near as I can come at it, Miss, I was thirteen or fourteen. I know I +was eighteen years and four days old when I married. That was in '74, +wasn't it? '72? Well, I knowed I was strikin' it kinda close. + +"My white folks lived in town. When they bought my mother, Miss Katie +took me in the house. My mother died durin' of the War--yes ma'am. + +"I member when the bloodhounds used to run em and tree em up. + +"Yes'm, niggers used to run away in slavery times. Some of em was +treated so mean they couldn't help it. + +"Yes ma'am, I've seen the Ku Klux. Seen em takin' the niggers out and +whip em and kick em around. I'm talkin' bout Ku Klux. I know bout the +patrollers too. Ku Klux come since freedom but the patrollers was in +slavery times. Had to get a pass. I used to hear the niggers talkin' +bout when the patrollers got after em and they was close to old master's +field they'd jump over the fence and say, 'I'm at home now, don't you +come in here.' + +"I farmed in Louisiana after I was married, but since I been here I +mostly washed and ironed. + +"When I worked for the white folks, I found em a cook cause I didn't +like to be bound down so tight of a Sunday. + +"I been treated pretty well. Look like the hardest treatment I had was +my grandfather's, Jake Nabors. Look like he hated me cause I was +white--and I couldn't help it. If he'd a done the right thing by me, he +could of sent me to school. He had stepchillun and sent them to school, +but he kep' me workin' and plowin'." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Jane Birch, Brinkley, Arkansas +Age: 74 + + +"I was three years old when the Yankees come through. I can't recollect +a thing about them. Ma told us children if we don't be quiet the Ku +Kluck come take us clean off but I never seed none. When we be working +she say if we don't work the grass out pretty soon the Ku Kluck be +taking us out whooping us. So many of us she have to scare us up to get +us to do right. There was fifteen children, nearly all girls. Ma said +she had good white folks. She was Floy Sellers. She belong to Mistress +Mary Sellers. She was a widow. Had four boys and a girl. I think we +lived in Chester County, South Carolina. I am darky to the bone. Pa was +black. All our family is black. My folks come to Arkansas when I was so +young I jes' can't tell nothing about it. We farmed. I lived with my +husband forty years and never had a child. + +"Black folks used to vote more than I believe they do now. The men used +to feel big to vote. They voted but I don't know how. No ma'am, reckon I +don't vote! + +"The times been changing since I was born and they going to keep +changing. Times is improving. That is all right. + +"I think the young generation is coming down to destruction. You can't +believe a word they speak. I think they do get married some. They have a +colored preacher and have jes' a witness or so at home. Most of them +marry at night. They fuss mongst theirselves and quit sometimes. I don't +know much about young folks. You can't believe what they tell you. Some +work and some don't work. Some of them will steal." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Beatrice Black, Biscoe. Arkansas +Age: 48 Occupation: Store and "eating joint" + + +"I was born below the city pump here in Biscoe. My husband is a twin and +the youngest of thirteen children. His twin brother is living. They are +fifty years old today (August 6, 1938). His mother lived back and forth +with the twins. She died year before last. She was so good. She was sure +good to me. She helped me raise my three children. I misses her till +this very day. Her name was Dedonia Black when she died. + +"She said master brought her, her father and mother and two sisters, +Martha and Ida, from Brownsville, Tennessee at the commencement of the +old war to Memphis in a covered ox wagon, and from there on a ship to +Cavalry Depot at De Valla Bluff. They was all sold. Her father was sold +and had to go to Texas. Her mother was sold and had to go back to +Tennessee, and the girls all sold in Arkansas. Master Mann bought my +mother-in-law (Dedonia). She was eighteen years old. They sold them off +on Cavalry Depot where the ship landed. They put her up to stand on a +barrel and auctioned them off at public auction. + +"Her father got with the soldiers in Texas and went to war. He enlisted +and when the war was over he come on hunt of my mother-in-law. He found +her married and had three children. He had some money he made in the war +and bought forty acres of land. It was school land (Government land). +She raised all her thirteen children there. They brought grandma back +out here with them from Tennessee. They all died and buried out here. My +mother-in-law was married three times. She had a slavery husband named +Nathan Moseby. After he died she married Abe Ware. Then he died. She +married Mitchell Black and he died long before she died. She was +ninety-two years old when she died and could outdo me till not but a few +years ago. Her strength left her all at once. She lived on then a few +years. + +"She always told me Master Mann's folks was very good to her. She said +she never remembered getting a whooping. But then she was the best old +thing I ever seen in my life. She was really good. + +"One story she tole more than others was: Up at Des Arc country the +Yankees come and made them give up their something-to-eat. Took and +wasted together. Drunk up their milk and it turning, (blinky--ed.). +She'd laugh at that. They kept their groceries in holes in the ground. +The Yankees jumped on the colored folks to make them tell where was +their provision. Some of them had to tell where some of it was. They was +scared. They didn't tell where it all was. + +"When they went to Des Arc and the gates was closed they had to wait +till next day to get their provisions. They had to start early to get +back out of the pickets before they closed." + + + + +Name of Interviewer: Beulah Sherwood Hagg +Name of Ex-Slave; Boston Blackwell Age: 98 +Residence: 520 Plum, North Little Rock + + +Story told by Boston Blackwell + +Make yourself comfoble, miss. I can't see you much 'cause my eyes, they +is dim. My voice, it kinder dim too. I knows my age, good. Old Miss, she +told me when I got sold--"Boss, you is 13--borned Christmas. Be sure to +tell your new misses and she put you down in her book." My borned name +was Pruitt 'cause I got borned on Robert Pruitt's plantation in +Georgia,--Franklin County, Georgia. But Blackwell, it my freed name. You +see, miss, after my mammy got sold down to Augusta--I wisht I could tell +you the man what bought her, I ain't never seed him since,--I was sold +to go to Arkansas; Jefferson county, Arkansas. Then was when old Miss +telled me I am 13. It was before the Civil War I come here. The onliest +auction of slaves I ever seed was in Memphis, coming on to Arkansas. I +heerd a girl bid off for $800. She was about fifteen, I reckon. I heerd +a woman--a breeding woman, bid off for $1500. They always brought good +money. I'm telling you, it was when we was coming from Atlanta. + +Do you want to hear how I runned away and jined the Yankees? You know +Abraham Lincoln 'claired freedom in '63, first day of January. In +October '63, I runned away and went to Pine Bluff to get to the Yankees. +I was on the Blackwell plantation south of Pine Bluff in '63. They was +building a new house; I wanted to feel some putty in my hand. One early +morning I clim a ladder to get a little chunk and the overseer man, he +seed me. Here he come, yelling me to get down; he gwine whip me 'cause +I'se a thief, he say. He call a slave boy and tell him cut ten willer +whips; he gwine wear every one out on me. When he's gone to eat +breakfas', I runs to my cabin and tells my sister, "I'se leaving this +here place for good." She cry and say, "Overseer man, he kill you." I +says, "He kill me anyhow." The young boy what cut the whips--he named +Jerry--he come along wif me, and we wade the stream for long piece. +Heerd the hounds a-howling, getting ready for to chase after us. Then we +hide in dark woods. It was cold, frosty weather. Two days and two nights +we traveled. That boy, he so cold and hungry, he want to fall out by the +way, but I drug him on. When we gets to the Yankee camp all our troubles +was over. We gets all the contraband we could eat. Was they more +run-aways there? Oh, Lordy, yessum. Hundreds, I reckon. Yessum, the +Yankees feeds all them refugees on contraband. They made me a driver of +a team in the quatamasters department. I was always keerful to do +everything they telled me. They telled me I was free when I gets to the +Yankee camp, but I couldn't go outside much. Yessum, iffen you could get +to the Yankee's camp you was free right now. + +That old story 'bout 40 acres and a mule, it make me laugh. Yessum, they +sure did tell us that, but I never knowed any pusson which got it. The +officers telled us we would all get slave pension. That just exactly +what they tell. They sure did tell me I would get a passel (parcel) of +ground to farm. Nothing ever hatched out of that, neither. + +When I got to Pine Bluff I stayed contraband. When the battle come, +Captain Manly carried me down to the battle ground and I stay there till +fighting was over. I was a soldier that day. No'um, I didn't shoot no +gun nor cannon. I carried water from the river for to put out the fire +in the cotton bales what made the breas'works. Every time the 'Federates +shoot, the cotton, it come on fire; so after the battle, they transfer +me back to quartemaster for driver. Captain Dodridge was his name. I +served in Little Rock under Captain Haskell. I was swored in for during +the war (Boston held up his right hand and repeated the words of +allegiance). It was on the corner of Main and Markham street in Little +Rock I was swored in. Year of '64. I was 5 feet, 8 inches high. You says +did I like living in the army? Yes-sum, it was purty good. Iffen you +obeyed them Yankee officers they treated you purty good, but iffen you +didn't, they sure went rough on you. + +You says you wants to know how I live after soldiers all go away? Well, +firstes thing, I work on the railroad. They was just beginning to come +here. I digged pits out, going along front of where the tracks was to +go. How much I get? I get $1.00 a day. You axes me how it seem to earn +money? Lady, I felt like the richess man in the world! I boarded with a +white fambly. Always I was a watching for my slave pension to begin +coming. 'Fore I left the army my captain, he telled me to file. My file +number, it is 1,115,857. After I keeped them papers for so many years, +white and black folks bofe telled me it ain't never coming--my slave +pension--and I reckon the chilren tored up the papers. Lady, that number +for me is filed in Washington. Iffen you go there, see can you get my +pension. + +After the railroad I went steamboating. First one was a little one; they +call her Fort Smith 'cause she go frum Little Rock to Fort Smith. It was +funny, too, her captain was name Smith. Captain Eugene Smith was his +name. He was good, but the mate was sure rough. What did I do on that +boat? Missy, was you ever on a river boat? Lordy, they's plenty to do. +Never is no time for rest. Load, onload, scrub. Just you do whatever you +is told to do and do it right now, and you'll keep outen trouble, on a +steamboat, or a railroad, or in the army, or wherever you is. That's +what I knows. + +Yessum, I reckon they was right smart old masters what didn't want to +let they slaves go after freedom. They hated to turn them loose. Just +let them work on. Heap of them didn't know freedom come. I used to hear +tell how the govmint had to send soldiers away down in the far back +country to make them turn the slaves loose. I can't tell you how all +them free niggers was living; I was too busy looking out for myself. +Heaps of them went to farming. They was share croppers. + +Yessum, miss, them Ku-Kluxers was turrible,--what they done to people. +Oh, God, they was bad. They come sneaking up and runned you outen your +house and take everything you had. They was rough on the women and +chilren. People all wanted to stay close by where soldiers was. I sure +knowed they was my friend. + +Lady, lemme tell you the rest about when I runned away. After peace, I +got with my sister. She's the onliest of all my people I ever seed +again. She telled me she was skeered all that day, she couldn't work, +she shake so bad. She heerd overseer man getting ready to chase me and +Jerry. He saddle his horse, take his gun and pistol, bofe. He gwine kill +me en sight, but Jerry, he say he bring him back, dead er alive, tied to +his horse's tail. But he didn't get us, Ha, Ha, Ha. Yankees got us. + +Now you wants to know about this voting business. I voted for Genral +Grant. Army men come around and registered you before voting time. It +wasn't no trouble to vote them days; white and black all voted together. +All you had to do was tell who you was vote for and they give you a +colored ticket. All the men up had different colored tickets. Iffen +you're voting for Grant, you get his color. It was easy. Yes Mam! Gol +'er mighty. They was colored men in office, plenty. Colored legislaturs, +and colored circuit clerks, and colored county clerks. They sure was +some big officers colored in them times. They was all my friends. This +here used to be a good county, but I tell you it sure is tough now. I +think it's wrong--exactly wrong that we can't vote now. The Jim Crow +lay, it put us out. The Constitution of the United States, it give us +the right to vote; it made us citizens, it did. + +You just keeps on asking about me, lady. I ain't never been axed about +myself in my _whole_ life! Now you wants to know after railroading +and steamboating what. They was still work the Yankee army wanted done. +The war had been gone for long time. All over every place was bodies +buried. They was bringing them to Little Rock to put in Govmint +graveyard. They sent me all over the state to help bring them here. +Major Forsythe was my quartemaster then. After that was done, they put +me to work at St. John's hospital. The work I done there liked to ruin +me for life. I cleaned out the water closets. After a while I took down +sick from the work--the scent, you know--but I keep on till I get so for +gone I can't stay on my feets no more. A misery got me in the chest, +right here, and it been with me all through life; it with me now. I +filed for a pension on this ailment. I never did get it. The Govmint +never took care of me like it did some soldiers. They said I was not a +'listed man; that I was a employed man, so I couldn't get no pension. +But I filed, like they told me. I telled you my number, didnft I? +1,115,827, Boston Blackwell. I give my whole time to the Govmint for +many years. White and black bofe always telling me I should have a +pension. I stood on the battlefield just like other soldiers. My number +is in Washington. Major Forsythe was the one what signed it, right in +his office. I seed him write it. + +Then what did I do? You always asking me that. I was low er long time. +When I finally get up I went to farming right here in Pulaski county. +Lordy, no, miss, I didn't buy no land. Nothing to buy with. I went share +cropping with a white man, Col. Baucum. You asking me what was the +shares? Worked on halvers. I done all the work and fed myself. No'um, I +wasn't married yit. I took the rheumatiz in my legs, and got short +winded. Then I was good for nothing but picking cotton. I kept on with +that till my eyes, they got so dim I couldn't see to pick the rows +clean. Heap o' times I needed medicine--heap o' times I needed lots of +things I never could get. Iffen I could of had some help when I been +sick, I mought not be so no account now. My daughter has taked keer of +me ever since I not been able to work no more. + +I never did live in no town; always been a country nigger. I always +worked for white folks, nearly. Never mixed up in big crowds of colored; +stayed to myself. I never been arrested in my whole life; I never got +jailed for nothing. What else you want to know, Miss? + +About these days, and the young folks! Well, I ain't saying about the +young folks; but they--no, I wouldn't say. (He eyed a boy working with a +saw.) Well, I will say, they don't believe in hard work. Iffen they can +make a living easy, they will. In old days, I was young and didn't have +nothing to worry about. These days you have to keep studying where you +going to get enough to eat. + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Tayler +Person interviewed: Henry Blake + Rear of 1300 Scott Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 80, or more Occupation: Farming and junk, when able + + +[HW: Drove a "Horsepower Gin Wagon"] + +"I was born March 16, 1863, they tell me. I was born in Arkansas right +down here on Tenth and Spring Streets in Little Rock. That was all woods +then. We children had to go in at night. You could hear the wolves and +the bears and things. We had to make a big fire at night to keep the +wolves and varmints away. + +"My father was a skiffman. He used to cross the Arkansas River in a +ferry-boat. My father's name was Doc Blake. And my mother's name was +Hannah Williams before she morried. + +"My father's mother's name was Susie somethin'; I done forgot. That is +too far back for me. My mother's mother was named Susie--Susie Williams. + +"My father's master was named Jim Paty. My father was a slavery man. I +was too. I used to drive a horsepower gin wagon in slavery time. That +was at Pastoria Just this side of Pine Bluff--about three or four miles +this side. Paty had two places-one about four miles from Pine Bluff and +the other about four miles from England on the river. + +"When I was driving that horsepower gin wagon. I was about seven or +eight years old. There wasn't nothin' hard about it. Just hitch the +mules to one another's tail and drive them 'round and 'round. There +wasn't no lines. Just hitch them to one another's tail and tell them to +git up. You'd pull a lever when you wanted them to stop. The mule wasn't +hard to manage. + +"We ginned two or three bales of cotton a day. We ginned all the summer. +It would be June before we got that cotton all ginned. Cotton brought +thirty-five or forty cents a pound then. + +"I was treated nicely. My father and mother were too. Others were not +treated so well. But you know how Negroes is. They would slip off and go +out. If they caught them, he would put them in a log hut they had for a +jail. If you wanted to be with a woman, you would have to go to your +boss man and ask him and he would let you go. + +"My daddy was sold for five hundred dollars--put on the block, up on a +stump--they called it a block. Jim Paty sold him. I forget the name of +the man he was sold to--Watts, I think it was. + +"After slavery we had to get in before night too. If you didn't, Ku Klux +would drive you in. They would come and visit you anyway. They had +something on that they could pour a lot of water in. They would seem to +be drinking the water and it would all be going in this thing. They was +gittin' it to water the horses with, and when they got away from you +they would stop and give it to the horses. When he got you good and +scared he would drive on away. They would whip you if they would catch +you out in the night time. + +"My daddy had a horse they couldn't catch. It would run right away from +you. My daddy trained it so that it would run away from any one who +would come near it. He would take me up on that horse and we would sail +away. Those Ku Klux couldn't catch him. They never did catch him. They +caught many another one and whipped him. My daddy was a pretty mean man. +He carried a gun and he had shot two or three men. Those were bad times. +I got scared to go out with him. I hated that business. But directly it +got over with. It got over with when a lot of the Ku Klux was killed up. + +"In slavery time they would raise children just like you would raise +colts to a mare or calves to a cow or pigs to a sow. It was just a +business It was a bad thing. But it was better than the county farm. +They didn't whip you if you worked. Out there at the county farm, they +bust you open. They bust you up till you can't work. There's a lot of +people down at the state farm at Cummins--that's where the farm is ain't +it--that's raw and bloody. They wouldn't let you come down there and +write no history. No Lawd! You better not try it. One half the world +don't know how the other half lives. I'll tell you one thing, if those +Catholics could get control there would be a good time all over this +world. The Catholics are good folks. + +"That gang that got after you if you let the sun go down while you were +out--that's called the Pateroles. Some folks call 'em the Ku Klux. It +was all the same old poor white trash. They kept up that business for +about ten years after the War. They kept it up till folks began to kill +up a lot of 'em. That's the only thing that stopped them. My daddy used +to make his own bullets. + +"I've forgot who it is that told us that we was free. Somebody come and +told us we're free now. I done forgot who it was. + +"Right after the War, my father farmed a while and after that he pulled +a skiff. You know Jim Lawson's place. He stayed on it twenty years. He +stayed at the Ferguson place about ten years. They're adjoining places. +He stayed at the Churchill place. Widow Scott place, the Bojean place. +That's all. Have you been down in Argenta to the Roundhouse? Churchill's +place runs way down to there. It wasn't nothing but farms in Little Rock +then. The river road was the only one there at that time. It would take +a day to cone down from Clear Lake with the cotton. You would start +'round about midnight and you would get to Argenta at nine o'clock the +next morning. The roads was always bad. + +"After freedom, we worked on shares a while. Then we rented. When we +worked on shares, we couldn't make nothing--Just overalls and something +to eat. Half went to the other man and you would destroy your half if +you weren't careful. A man that didn't know how to count would always +lose. He might lose anyhow. They didn't give no itemized statement. No, +you just had to take their word. They never give you no details. They +just say you owe so much. No matter how good account you kept, you had +to go by their account and now, Brother, I'm tellin' you the truth about +this. It's been that way for a long time. You had to take the white +man's work on notes and everything. Anything you wanted, you could git +if you were a good hand. You could git anything you wanted as long as +you worked. If you didn't make no money, that's all right; they would +advance you more. But you better not leave him--you better not try to +leave and get caught. They'd keep you in debt. They were sharp. +Christmas come, you could take up twenty dollars in somethin' to eat and +much as you wanted in whiskey. You could buy a gallon of whiskey. +Anything that kept you a slave because he was always right and you were +always wrong if there was difference. If there was an argument, he would +get mad and there would be a shooting take place. + +"And you know how some Negroes is. Long as they could git somethin', +they didn't care. You see, if the white man came out behind, he would +feed you, let you have what you wanted. He'd just keep you on, help you +get on your feet--that is, if you were a good hand. But if you weren't a +good hand, he'd just let you have enough to keep you alive. A good hand +could take care of forty or fifty acres of land and would have a large +family. A good hand could git clothes, food, whiskey, whenever he wanted +it. My father had nine children and took care of them. Not all of them +by one wife. He was married twice. He was married to one in slavery time +and to another after the War. I was a child of the first one. I got a +sister still living down here in Galloway station that is mighty nigh +ninety years old. No, she must be a hundred. Her name is Frances +Dobbins. When you git ready to go down there, I'll tell you how to find +that place jus' like I told you how to fin' this one. Galloway is only +'bout four miles from Rose City. + +"I been married twice in my life. My first woman, she died. The second +lady, she is still living. We dissolved friendship in 1913. Least-wise, +I walked out and give her my home. I used to own a home at twenty-first +and Pulaski. + +"I belong to the Baptist Church at Wrightsville. I used to belong to +Arch Street. Was a deacon there for about twelve years. But they had too +much splittin' and goin' on and I got out. I'll tell you more sometime." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +Henry Blake's age appears in excess of eighty. His idea of seventy-five +is based on what someone told him. He is certain that he drove a +"Horsepower Gin Wagon" during "slavery times", and that he was seven or +eight when he drove it. Even if that were in '65, he would be at least +eighty years old--seventy-three years since the War plus seven years of +his life. His manner of narration would indicate that he drove earlier. + +The interview was held in a dark room, and for the first time in my life +I took notes without seeing the paper on which I was writing. + + + + +Interviewer: Mary D. Eudgins +Person Interviewed: Miss Adeline Blakeley Age: 87 +Home: 101 Rock Street, Fayetteville, Arkansas. + + +There is no hint of elision in the speech of Adeline Blakeley, scarcely +a trace of vernacular. All of her life her associations have been with +white persons. She occupies a position, rare in post-slavery days, of +negro servant, confidant and friend. After the death of Mrs. Hudgins, +family intimates, wives of physicians, bankers' wives and other +Fayetteville dowagers continued periodically to come to see Adeline. +They came not in the spirit of Lady Bountifuls condescending to a +hireling, but because they wanted to chat with an old time friend. + +Interviewer's note. + +As told by: +Adeline Blakeley + + +"Honey, look in the bible to get the date when I was born. We want to +have it just right. Yes, here's the place, read it to me. July 10, 1850? +Yes, I remember now, that's what they've always told me. I wanted to be +sure, though. I was born in Hickman County, Tenn. and was about a year +when they brought me to Arkansas. My mother and her people had been +bought by Mr. John P. Parks when they were just children--John and +Leanna and Martha. I was the first little negro in the Parks kitchen. +From the first they made a pet out of me. I was little like a doll and +they treated me like a plaything--spoiled me--rotten. + +After Mr. Parks came to Arkansas he lived near what is now Prarie Grove, +but what do you think it was called then--Hog Eye. Later on they named +it Hillingsley for a man who settled there. We were two miles out on the +Wire Road, the one the telegraph line came in on, Honey. Almost every +conmunity had a 'Wire Road'. + +It was the custom to give a girl a slave when she was married. When Miss +Parks became Mrs. Blakeley she moved to Fayetteville and chose me to +take with her. She said since I was only 5 she could raise me as she +wanted me to be. But I must have been a lot of trouble and after she had +her baby she had to send me back to her father to grow up a little. For +you might say she had two babies to take care of since I was too little +to take care of hers. They sent a woman in my place. + +Honey, when I got back, I was awful: I had been with the negroes down in +the country and said 'hit' and 'hain't' and words like that. Of course +all the children in the house took it up from me. Mrs. Blakeley had to +teach me to talk right. Your Aunt Nora was born while I was away. I was +too little to take full charge of her, but I could sit in a chair and +hold her on my lap. + +Mrs. Blakeley taught her children at home. Her teaching was almost all +they had before they entered the University. When I was little I wanted +to learn, learn all I could, but there was a law against teaching a +slave to read and write. One woman--she was from the North did it +anyway. But when folks can read and write its going to be found out. It +was made pretty hard for that woman. + +After the war they tried to get me to learn, but I tossed my head and +wouldn't let them teach me. I was about 15 and thought I was grown and +wouldn't need to know any more. Mary, it sounds funny, but if I had a +million dollars I would give it gladly to be able to read and write +letters to my friends. + +I remember well when the war started. Mr. Blakeley, he was a cabinet +maker and not very well, was not considered strong enough to go. But if +the war had kept up much longer they would have called him. Mr. Parks +didn't believe in seceding. He held out as long as it was safe to do so. +If you didn't go with the popular side they called you 'abolitionist' or +maybe 'Submissionist'. But when Arkansas did go over he was loyal. He +had two sons and a son-in-law in the Confederate army. One fought at +Richmond and one was killed at Gettysburg. + +The little Blakeley boy had always liked to play with the American flag. +He'd march with it and carry it out on the porch and hang it up. But +after the trouble began to brew his mother told him he would have to +stay in the house when he played with the flag. Even then somebody saw +him and scolded him and said 'Either burn it or wash it.' The child +thought they meant it and he tried to wash it. Dyes weren't so good in +those days and it ran terribly. It was the awfulest thing you ever saw. + +Fayetteville suffered all thru the war. You see we were not very far +from the dividing line and both armies were about here a lot. The +Federals were in charge most of the time. They had a Post here, set up +breast works and fortified the square. The court house was in the middle +of it then. It was funny that there wasn't more real fighting about +here. There were several battles but they were more like +skirmishes--just a few men killed each time. They were terrible just the +same. At first they buried the Union soldiers where the Confederate +Cemetery is now. The Southerners were placed just anywhere. Later on +they moved the Northern caskets over to where the Federal Cemetery is +now and they took up the Southern men when they knew where to find them +and placed them over on the hill where they are today. + +Once an officer came into our home and liked a table he saw, so he took +it. Mrs. Blakeley followed his horse as far as she could pleading with +him to give it back because her husband had made it. The next day a +neighbor returned it. He hod found it in the road and recognized it. The +man who stole it had been killed and dropped it as he fell. + +Just before the Battle of Prairie Grove the Federal men came thru. Some +officers stopped and wanted us to cook for them. Paid us well, too. One +man took little Nora on his lap and almost cried. He said she reminded +him of his own little girl he'd maybe never see again. He gave her a +cute little ivory handled pen knife. He asked Mrs. Blakeley if he +couldn't leave his pistols with her until he came back thru +Fayetteville. She told him it was asking too much, what would happen to +her and her family if they found those weapons in her possession? But +he argued that it was only for a few days. She hid them under a tub in +the basement and after waiting a year gave them to her brother when he +came through. The Yankees met the Southerners at Prairie Grove. The +shots sounded just like popcorn from here in Fayetteville. We always +thought the man got killed there. + +The soldiers camped all around everywhere. Lots of them were in tents +and some of the officers were in houses. They didn't burn the +college--where Miss Sawyer had taught, you know. The officers used it +for their living quarters. They built barracks for the men of upright +logs. See that building across the street. It's been lots of things, a +livery stable, veterinary barn, apartment house. But it was one of the +oldest buildings in Arkansas. They've kept on remodeling it. The Yankees +made a commissary out of it. Later on they moved the food up on the +square and used it for a hospital. I can remember lots of times seeing +the feet of dead men sticking out of the windows. + +Your Aunt Nora's mother saved that building from being burned. How did +it happen? Well you see both sides were firing buildings--the +Confederates to keep the Yankees from getting them, and the other way +about. But the Southerners did most of the burning. Mrs. Blakeley's +little boy was sick with fever. She and a friend went up, because they +feared burnings. They sat there almost all night. Parties of men would +come along and they would plead with them. One sat in one doorway and +the other in the building next. Mrs. Blakely was a Southerner, the other +woman a Northerner. Between them they kept the buildings from being +burned: saved their own homes thereby and possibly the life of the +little sick boy. + +It was like that in Fayetteville. There were so many folks on both sides +and they lived so close together that they got to know one another and +were friends. Things like this would happen. One day a northern officer +came over to our house to talk to his wife who was visiting. He said he +would be away all day. He was to go down to Prarie Grove to get 'Old Man +Parks, dead or alive'. Not until he was on his way did somebody tell him +that he was talking about the father of his wife's hostess. Next day he +came over to apologize. Said he never would have made such a cruel +remark if he had known. But he didn't find his man. As the officers went +in the front door, Mr. Parks went out of the back and the women +surrounded him until he got away. + +There was another time when the North and South took refuge together. +During the war even the little children were taught to listen for bugle +calls and know what they meant. We had to know--and how to act when we +heard them. One day, I remember we were to have peas for dinner, with +ham hock and corn bread. I was hungry that day and everything smelled so +good. But just as the peas were part of them out of the pot and in a +dish on the table the signal came 'To Arms'. Cannon followed almost +immediately. We all ran for the cellar, leaving the food as it was. + +The cellar was dug out only a little way down. It had been raining and +snowing all day--melted as it fell. It was about noon and the seep water +had filled a pool in the middle of the cellar. They placed a tub in the +water and it floated like a little boat. They put Nora and a little girl +who was visiting her, and me in it. The grown folks clung to the damp +sides of the cellar floor and wall. After the worst bombing was over we +heard someone upstairs in the house calling. It was the wife of a +Northern officer. He had gotten away so fast he had forgotten his +pistols. She had tried to follow him, but the shots had frightened her. +We called to her to come to the basement. She came, but in trying to +climb up the slick sides she slid down and almost into our tub. She +looked so funny with her big fat legs that I giggled. Mrs. Blakeley +slapped me--it was one of the few times she struck me. I was glad she +did, for I would have laughed out. And it didn't do to laugh at +Northerners. + +It wes night before the fighting was over. An old man who was in the +basement with us went upstairs because he heard someone groan. Sure +enough a wounded man had dragged himself to our door. He laid the man, +almost fainting down before the fireplace. It was all he could do. The +man died. When we finally came up there wasn't a pea, nor a bit of ham, +not a crum of cornbread. Floaters had cleaned the pot until it shone. + +We had a terrible time getting along during those years. I don't believe +we could have done it except for the Northern soldiers. You might say +the Confederacy was kept up by private subscription, but the Yankees had +the whole Federal government back of them. They had good rations which +were issued uncooked. They could get them prepared anywhere they liked. +We were good cooks so that is the way we got our food--preparing it for +soldiers and eating it with them. They had quite a variety and a lot of +everything. They were given bacon and coffee and sugar and flour and +beans and somthing they called 'mixed vegetables'. Those beans were +little and sweet--not like the big ones we have today. The mixed +vegetables were liked by lots of folks--I didn't care for them. +Everything was ground up together and then dried. You had to soak it +like dried peas before cooking. + +After the war they came to Mrs. Blakeley, the soldiers did, and accused +her of keeping me against my will. I told them that I stayed because I +wanted to, the Blakeleys were my people. They let me alone, the whites +did, but the negroes didn't like it. They tried to fight me and called +me names. There was a well near the square from which everybody got +water. Between it and our house was a negro cabin. The little negroes +would rock me. I stood it as long as I could. Then I told Mrs. Blakeley. +She said to get some rocks in my bucket and if they rocked me to heave +back. I was a good shot and they ran. Their mother came to Mrs. Blakeley +to complain, but she told her after hearing her thru that I had stood +all I could and the only reason I hadn't been seriously hurt was because +her children weren't good shots. They never bothered me again. + +It was hard after the war. The Federals stayed on for a long time. +Fences were down, houses were burned, stock was gone, but we got along +somehow. When Nora Blakeley was 14 a lady was teaching a subscription +school in the hall across the street--the same hall Mrs. Blakely had +saved from burning. She wanted Nora to teach for her. So, child that she +was, she went over and pretty soon she was teaching up to the fourth +grade. I went over every morning and built a fire for her before she +arrived. + +That fall she went over to the University, but the next year she had to +stay out to earn money. She wanted to finish so badly that we decided to +take boarders. They would come to us from way over on the campus. There +were always lots more who wanted to stay than we could take. We bought +silver and dishes just as we could pay for them, and we added to the +house in the summer time. I used to cook their breakfasts and dinners +and pack baskets of lunch for them to take over to the Campus. We had +lots of interesting people with us. One was Jeff Davis--later he was +governor and then senator. He and a Creek Indian boy named Sam Rice were +great friends. There were lots of Indians in school at the University +then. They didn't have so many Indian schools and tribes would make up +money and send a bright boy here. + +Ten years after she graduated from the University Nora married Harvey M. +Hudgins. They moved to Hot springs and finally ran a hotel. It burned +the night of Washington's birthday in 1895. It was terrible, we saved +nothing but the night clothes we were in. Next morning it was worse for +we saw small pox flags all over town. Our friends came to our rescue and +gave us clothes and we went with friends out into the country to escape +the epidemic. There were three or four families in one little house. It +was crowded, but we were all friends so it was nice after all. + +About ten years before Mr. Hudgins had built a building in Fayetteville. +They used the second floor for an Opera House. When we came back here +after the fire we took it over to run. Mr. Hudgins had that and all the +billboards in town. We saw all the shows. Several years later the twins, +Helen and Wade were born. I always went to see the shows and took them +with me. Folks watched them more than the shows. I kept them neat and +clean and they were so cute. + +We saw the circuses too. I remember once Barnum and Bailey were coming +to Fort Smith. We were going down. I didn't tell anybody, but I put $45 +in my purse. I made money then. Mr. Hudgins got me a cow and I sold milk +and butter and kept all I made. Why the first evening dress Helen had +and the first long pants Bud (Wade) had I bought. Well, we were going +down to Fort Smith, but Bud got sick and we couldn't go. You know, Mary, +it seemed so queer. When Helen and I went to California, we all saw the +same circus together. Yes, I've been to California with her twice. +Whenever the train would stop she would come from the pullman to the +coach where the colored persons had to ride to see about me. We went out +to visit Sister (Bess Hudgins Clayton) and Bud. While we were there, +Barnum and Bailey came to Los Angeles. It seemed so funny. There we +were--away out in California--all the children grown up and off to +themselves. There we were--all of us--seeing the show we had planned to +see way back in Arkansas, years and years before. + +You know, Honey, that doll Ann has--she got it for her seventh birthday +(Elisabeth Ann Wiggans--daughter of Helen Hudgins Wiggans). It was +restrung for her, and was once before for her mother. But it's the same +doll Baby Dean (Dean Hudgins) carried out of that fire in Hot Springs in +1895. Everybody loves Ann. She makes the fifth generation I've cared +for. When Helen is going out she brings Ann down here or I go up there. +It's usually down here tho. Because since we turned the old home into +apartments I take care of them, and it's best for me to be here most of +the time. + +All the people in the apartments are mighty nice to me. Often for days +at a time they bring me so much to eat that I don't have to cook for +myself. A boy going to the University has a room here and tends to the +furnace. He's a nice boy. I like him. + +My life's been a full one, Honey, and an interesting one. I can't really +say which part of it is best. I can't decide whether it's a better world +now or then. I've had lots of hard work, and lots of friends, lots of +fun and I've gone lots of places. Life is interesting." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Vera Roy Bobo (Mulatto, almost white) + Holly Grove, Arkansas +Age: 62 + + +"My parents come from Macon, Georgia. My mother was Margaret Cobb. Her +people were owned by the Cobbs. They reared her. She was a house girl +and a seamstress. She sewed for both white and black. She was light +color. + +"My father was St. Roy Holmes. He was a C.M.E. preacher in Georgia and +later in Arkansas. He came on the train to Forrest City, 1885. He +crossed the Mississippi River on a ferry boat. Later he preached at +Wynne. He was light color. + +"I never heard them say very much about slavery. This was their own +home. + +"My husband's father was the son of a white man also--Randall Bobo. He +used to visit us from Bobo, Mississippi. The Bobo a owned that town and +were considered rich people. My husband was some darker and was born at +Indian Bay, Arkansas. He was William Bobo. I never knew him till two +months before I married him. We had a home wedding and a wedding supper +in this house." + + +(This may be continued) + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Liddie Boechus, (second interview) + Madison, Arkansas +Age: 73 + + +"I was born in West Point, Mississippi. My own dear mother's owner was +Pool. His wife was Mistress Patty Pool. Old man Pool raised our set. He +was an old soldier, I think. He was old when I came to know him. + +"My own papa's pa was Smith. After he came back from the Civil War he +took back his Smith name. He changed it back from Pool to Smith. + +"I was a small child when my own dear mother died. My stepmother had +some children of her own, so papa hired me out by the year to nurse for +my board and clothes. My stepmother didn't care for me right. White +folks raised me. + +"I married when I was fifteen years old to a man twenty years old or +more. White folks was good to me but I didn't have no sense. I lef' 'em. +I married too young. I lived wid him little over twelve years, and I had +twelve children by him. Then I married a preacher. We had two more +children. My first husband was trifling. I ploughed, hoed, split wood to +raise my babies. + +"My daughter come from Louisiana to stay with me last winter when I was +sick. I got eight dollars, now I gets six dollars from the Welfare. My +daughter here now. + +"I went to one white teacher a few days--Miss Perkins. I never got to go +enough to learn. I took up reading and writing from my children. I write +mighty poor I tell you. + +"I used to be a midwife and got ten dollars a case. They won't pay off +now. I do a little of that work, but I don't get nothing for it. They +have a doctor or won't pay. + +"My husband was a good man. He was a preacher. I'm a Baptist. + +"I don't know what to think about young folks. Every feller is for his +own self. Times is hard with old folks. I had a stroke they said. This +new generation ain't got no strength. I think it is because they set +around so much. What would a heap of them do? A long day's work in the +field would kill some of them. It would! Some folks don't work 'nough to +be healthy. I don't know, but though, I really believes education and +automobiles is the whole cause." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Maggie (Bunny) Bond, Madison, Arkansas +Age: Well up in 80's + + +"I was born at Magnolia, North Carolina. Lou Nash named me Maggie after +my mistress. That was her name. They had a rabbit they called Bunny. It +died. They started calling me Bunny. Our old mistress was a Mallory from +Virginia. She was the old head of all these at Forrest City. (A big +family of people are descendants at Forrest City.) + + +School During the War + +"Mrs. Eddy Williams said to my mother, 'Let her go to school and play +with the children.' I was young. I don't know how old I was. I was +washed, my hair combed, and clean dresses put on me. I went to school +four or five days. I set by different ones. They used slates. It was a +log schoolhouse. It had a platform the teacher sat on. They preached in +it on Sunday. Where Mt. Vernon Cemetery now stands. The teacher was Mrs. +McCallis. She rode horseback from out of the bottoms. The families of +children that come there were: Mallorys, Izards, Nashs, Dawsons, +Kittrells, and Pruitts. + +"There was a big oak tree in front. The boys played on one side, the +girls on the other. Cake and pie was a fortune then. If the children had +any they would give me part of it. Times was so hard then people had +plain victuals every day at school. + +"The children tried to learn me at recess under the tree. They used +McGuffey's and Blue Back books. One day I said out loud, 'I want to go +home.' The children all laughed. One day I went to sleep and the teacher +sent me out doors to play. Mrs. McCallis said, 'Bunny, you mus'n't talk +out loud in school.' I was nodding one day. The teacher woke me up. She +wrapped her long switch across the table. She sent me to play. The house +set up on high blocks. I got under it and found some doodle holes. Mrs. +McCallis come to the door and said, 'Bunny, don't call so loud. You must +keep quiet.' I would say: 'Doodle, doodle, your house on fire. Come get +some bread and butter.' They would come up. + +"After the War I had a white lady teacher from the North. I went a +little bit to colored school but I didn't care about books. I learned to +sew for my dolls. The children would give me a doll all along. + +"The happiest year of my whole life was the first year of my married +life. I hardly had a change of clothes. I had lots of friends. I went to +the field with Scott. I pressed cotton with two horses, one going around +and the other coming. Scott could go upstairs in the gin and look over +at us. We had two young cows. They had to be three years old then before +they were any service. I fed hogs. I couldn't cook but I learned. I had +been a house girl and nurse. + +"I was nursing for Mrs. Pierce at Goodwin. I wanted to go home. She +didn't want me to leave. I wouldn't tell her why. She said, 'I speck you +going to get married.' She gave me a nice white silk dress. Mrs. +Drennand made it. My owner, Miss Leila Nash, lend me one of her +chemisette, a corset cover, and a dress had ruffles around the bottom. +It was wide. She never married. I borrowed my veil from a colored woman +that had used it. Mr. Rollwage (dead now but was a lawyer at Forrest +City) gave Scott a tie and white vest and lend him his watch and chain +to be married in. They was friends. Miss Leila made my cake. She wanted +my gold band ring to go in it. I wouldn't let her have it for that. Not +my ring! She put a dime in it. Miss Maggie Barrow and Mrs. Maggie +Hatcher made two baskets full of maple biscuits for my wedding. They was +the best cake. Made in big layers and cut and iced. Two laundry baskets +full to the brim." + +She showed us a white cedar three-gallon churn, brass hoops hold the +staves in place, fifty-seven years old and a castor with seven cruits +patented December 27, 1859. It was a silver castor and was fixed to ring +for the meal. + +She showed us the place under a cedar tree where there are four unmarked +graves--Mr. and Mrs. McMurray and their son and daughter and one niece. +The graves are being ploughed over now. + +"Mrs. Murray's son gave her five hundred dollars. She hid it. After she +died no one knew where to find it." + +Scott Bond bought the place. Bunny was fixing the hearth (she showed us +the very spot) brick and found a brick. Dora threw it out. The can could +never be found and soon Dora went home near Chattanooga, Tennessee. Dora +was a Negro servant in the Bond home. It seems the money was in the old +can that Bunny found but thought it was just a prop for the brick. + +Maggie (Bunny) Bond has given two of her white friends coffins. One was +to a man and two years ago one was to a woman, Mrs. Evans' daughter. She +wanted to do something, the nicest thing she could do for them, for they +had been good to her. People who raised them and had owned them. They +gratefully accepted her present. In her life she has given beautiful and +expensive wedding preaents to her white friends who raised her and owned +her. She told us about giving one and someone else said she gave two. +Theo Bond's wife said this about the second one. + +The Yankees passed along in front of the Scott Bond home from Hunter, +Arkansas to Madison, Arkansas. It was an old military road. The Yankees +burnt up Mt. Vernon, Arkansas. Madison was a big town but it overflowed +so bad. There were pretty homes at Madison. Levies were not known, so +the courthouse was moved to Forrest City. Yankees camped at Madison. A +lot of them died there. A cemetery was made in sight of the Scott Bond +yard. The markings were white and black letters and the pailings were +white with black pointed tips. They were moved to the north. Madison +grew to be large because it was on a river. + + +Interviewer's Comment + +Maggie (Bunny) Bond is eight-ninth white. + + + + +Interviewer: Thomas Elmore Lucy +Person interviewed: Caroline Bonds + Russellville, Arkansas +Age: 70 + + +"What's all dis info'mation you askin' about goin' to be for? Will it +help us along any or make times any better? All right, then. My name's +Caroline Bonds. I don't know jist exactly when I was born, but I think +it was on de twentieth of March about--about--yes, in 1866, in Anderson +County, North Carolina. + +"So you was a 'Tarheel' too? Bless my soul! + +"My old master was named Hubbard, and dat was my name at first. My +parents belonged to Marse Hubbard and worked on his big plantation till +dey was freed. + +"I was too little to remember much about what happened after de War. My +folks moved to Arkansas County, in Arkansas, soon after de War and lived +down dere a long time. + +"I joined de Missionary Baptis' Church when I was fifteen and has +belonged to it ever' since. + +"No sir, I never got in de habit of votin' and never did vote, never +thought it was necessary." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Rev. Frank T. Boone + 1410 W. Seventeenth Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 80 + + +[HW: Free Colonies] + +"I was born in Nansemond County, Virginia on my father's place near the +center of the County. I was born free. We were members of the colonies. +You know there were what is known as Free Colonies. They were Negroes +that had always been free. The first landing of the Negroes in America, +they claimed, formed a colony. The Negro men who came over, it is said, +could buy their freedom and a number of them did. + +"But I didn't become free that way. My ancestors were a white man and an +Indian woman. He was my great-grandfather. None of my family have been +slaves as far back as I know. + +"There was one set of white people in Virginia called Quakers. Their +rule was to free all slaves at the age of twenty-one. So we got some +free Negroes under that rule. My mother who was a Negro woman was freed +under this rule. My father was always free. + +"My grandmother on my father's side owned slaves. The law was that +colored people could own slaves but they were not allowed to buy them. I +don't know how many slaves my grandmother owned. I didn't know they were +slaves until the War was over. I saw the colored people living in the +little houses on the place but I didn't know they was slaves. + +"One morning my grandmother went down to the quarters and when she came +back she said to my aunt, 'Well, the slaves left last night.' And that +was the first I knew of their being slaves. + +"My father's name was Frank Boone. I was named for him. My mother's name +was Phoebe Chalk. I don't know who her mother and father were. She said +that her mother died when she was a child. She was raised by Quaker +people. I presume that her mother belonged to these Quaker people. + +"On our place no grown person was ever whipped. They was just like one +family. They called grandmother's house the big house. They farmed. They +didn't raise cotton though. They raised corn, peas, wheat, potatoes, and +all things for the table. Hogs, cows, and all such like was raised. I +never saw a pound of meat or a peck of flour or a bucket of lard or +anything like that bought. We rendered our own lard, pickled our own +fish, smoked our own meat and cured it, ground our own sausage, ground +our own flour and meal from our own wheat and corn we raised on our +place, spun and wove our own cloth. The first suit of clothes I ever +wore, my mother spun the cotton and wool, wove the cloth and made the +clothes. It was a mixed steel gray suit. She dyed the thread so as to +get the pattern. One loom carried the black thread through and the other +carried the white thread to weave the cloth into the mixed pattern. + +"I don't know how large our place was. Maybe it was about a hundred +acres. Every one that married out of the family had a home. They called +it a free Negro colony. Nothing but Negroes in it. + +"My father volunteered and went to the army in 1862. He served with the +Yankees. You know Negroes didn't fight in the Confederate armies. They +was in the armies, but they were servants. My father enrolled as a +soldier. I think it was in Company F. I don't know the regiment or the +division. He was a sergeant last time I saw him. I remember that well, I +remember the stripes on his arm. He was mustered out in Galveston, +Texas, in 1865. + +"The house I was born in was a log house, sealed inside. The cracks were +chinked with dirt and mud, and it was weather boarded on the outside. +You couldn't tell it was a log house. It had two rooms. In them times +you didn't cook in the house you lived in. You had a kitchen built off +from the house you lived in just like you have servant quarters now. You +went across the yard to do your cooking. The smokehouse was off by +itself. Milk was off by itself too. The dairy house was where you kept +the flour and sugar and preserves and fruit and pickles and all those +kind of things. No food was kept in the house. The milk house had +shelves all up in it and when you milked the cows the pans and bowls and +crocks were put up on the shelves. Where it was possible the milk house +was built on a branch or spring where you could get plenty of cold +water. You didn't milk in the milk house. You milked in the cow pen +right out in the weather. Then you carried it down to the milk house and +strained it. It was poured out in vessels. When the cream rose it was +skimmed off to churn for butter. + +"Feed for the stock was kept in the corn crib. We would call it a barn +now. That barn was for corn and oft'times we had overhead a place where +we kept fodder. Bins were kept in the barn for wheat and peas. + + +Slaves on Other Places + +"I seen the slaves outside the colonies. I was little and didn't pay any +attention to them. Slaves would run away. They had a class of white +people known as patrollers. They would catch the slaves and whip them. I +never saw that done. I heard them talking about it. I was only a child +and never got a chance to see the slaves on the places of other people, +but just heard the folks talking about them. + + +Within the Yankee Lines + +"When the War broke out, the free colored people became fearful. There +was a great deal of stuff taken away from them by the Confederate +soldiers. They moved into the Yankee lines for protection. My family +moved also. They lost live stock and feed. They lost only one horse and +then they came back home. I can see that old horse right now. He was a +sorrel horse, with a spot in his forehead, and his name was John. My +father was inside the Yankee lines when he volunteered for the service. +I don't know how much he got or anything about it except that I know the +Yankees were holding Portsmouth, Norfolk, Hampton Roads, and all that +country. + + +Expectations of the Slaves + +"I could hear my mother and uncle talk about what the slaves expected. I +know they was expecting to get something. They weren't supposed to be +turned out like wild animals like they were. I think it was forty acres +and a mule. I am not sure but I know they expected something to be +settled on them. + + +What They Got + +"If any of them got anything in Virginia, I don't know anything about +it. They might have been some slaves that did get something--just like +they was here in Arkansas. + +"Old Man Wilfong, when he freed Andy Wilfong in Bradley County, +Arkansas, gave Andy plenty. He did get forty acres of land. That is +right down here out from Warren. Wilfong owned that land and a heap more +when he died. He hasn't been dead more than six or seven years. I +pastored him in 1904 and 1905. There were others who expected to get +something, but I don't know any others that got it. Land was cheap then. +Andy bought land at twenty-five and fifty cents an acre, and sold the +timber off of it at the rate of one thousand dollars for each forty +acres. He bought hundreds of acres. He owned a section and a section and +one-half of land when he was my member. He had seven boys and two girls +and he gave them all forty acres apiece when they married. Then he sold +the timber off of four forties. Whenever a boy or girl was married he'd +give him a house. He'd tell him to go out and pick himself out a place. + +"He sold one hundred and sixty acres of timber for four thousand +dollars, but if he had kept it for two years longer, he would have got +ten thousand dollars for it. The Bradley Lumber Company went in there +and cut the timber all through. + +"Wilfong's master's name was Andrew Wilfong, same as Andy's. His master +came from Georgia, but he was living in Arkansas when freedom came. +Later on Andy bought the farm his master was living on when freedom +came. His master was then dead. + + +Right After the War + +"My mother came back home and we went on farming just like we did +before, raising stuff to eat. You know I can't remember much that they +did before the War but I can remember what they did during the War and +after the War,--when they came back home. My folks still own the old +place but I have been away from there sixty-one years. A whole +generation has been raised up and died since I left. + +"I came out with one of my cousins and went to Georgia (Du Pont) +following turpentine work. It was turpentine farming. You could cut a +hole in the tree known as the box. It will hold a quart. Rosin runs out +of that tree into the box. Once a week, they go by and chip a tree to +keep the rosin running. Then the dippers dip the rosin out and put it in +barrels. Them barrels is hauled to the still. Then it is distilled just +like whiskey would be. The evaporation of it makes turpentine; the rosin +is barreled and shipped to make glass. The turpentine is barreled and +sold. I have dipped thousands of gallons of turpentine. + +"I came to South Carolina in 1880 and married. I stayed there seven +years and came to Arkansas in 1888. I came right to North Little Rock +and then moved out into the country around Lonoke County,--on a farm. I +farmed there for five years. Then I went to pastoring. I started +pastoring one year before I quit making cotton. I entered the ministry +in 1892 and continued in the active service until November 1937. I put +in forty-five years in the active ministry. + + +Schooling + +"I first went to school at a little log school in Suffolk, Virginia. +From there I went to Hampton, Virginia. I got my theological training in +Shorter College under Dr. T.H. Jackson. + + +Ku Klux + +"I never had any experience with the Ku Klux Klan. I seen white men +riding horses and my mother said they was Ku Kluxes, but they never +bothered us as I remember. They had two sets of white folks like that. +The patrollers were before and during the War and the Ku Klux Klan came +after the War. I can't remember how the Ku Klux I saw were dressed. The +patrollers I remember. They would just be three or four white men riding +in bunches. + + +Nat Turner Rebellion + +"I have heard the 'Nat Turner Rebellion' spoken of, but I don't know +what was said. I think the old people called it the 'Nat Turner War.' + + +Reconstruction Days + +"Lawyer Whipper was one of the best criminal lawyers in the state. He +was a Negro. The Republican party had the state then and the Negroes +were strong. Robert Small was a noted politician and was elected to go +to Congress twice. The last time he ran, he was elected but had a hard +fight. The election was so close it was contested but Small won out. He +was the last nigger congressman. I heard that there were one or two +more, but I don't remember them. + +"When I first went to South Carolina, them niggers was bad. They +organized. They used to have an association known as the Union Laborers, +I think. The organization was like the fraternal order. I don't know's +they ever had any trouble but they were always in readiness to protect +themselves if any conflict arose. It was a secret order carried on just +like any other fraternal order. They had distress calls. Every member +has an old horn which he blew in time of trouble. I think that sane kind +of organization or something like it was active here when I came. The +Eagles (a big family of white people in Lonoke County) had a fight with +members of it once and some of the Eagles were killed a year or two +before I came to this state. + + +Voting and Political Activities + +"I voted in South Carolina, but I wasn't old enough to vote in Georgia. +However, I stumped Taliaferro County for Garfield when I was in Georgia. +I lived in a little town by the name of McCray. The town I was in, they +had never had more than fifteen or twenty Republican votes polled. But I +polled between two hundred and three hundred votes. I was one of the +regular speakers. The tickets were in my care too. You see, they had +tickets in them days and not the long ballots. They didn't have long +ballots like they have now. The tickets were sent to me and I took care +of them until the election. In the campaign I was regularly employed +through the Republican Campaign Committee Managers. + +"According to preparation and conditions there were less corruption then +than there is now. In them days, they had to learn the tricks. But now +they know them. Now you find the man and he already knows what to do. + + +Songs + +"Back in that period, nearly all the songs the Negro sang considerably +were the spirituals: 'I'm Going Down to Jordan,' 'Roll Jordan Roll.'" + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: J.F. Boone + 1502 Izard, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 66 + + +[HW: A Union Veteran] + +"My father's name was Arthur Boone and my mother's name was Eliza Boone, +I am goin' to tell you about my father. Now be sure you put down there +that this is Arthur Boone's son. I am J.F. Boone, and I am goin' to tell +you about my father, Arthur Boone. + +"My father's old master was Henry Boone. My mother came from +Virginia--north Virginia--and my father came from North Carolina. The +Boones bought them. I have heard that my father, Arthur Boone, was +bought by the Boones. They wasn't his first masters. I have heard my +father say that it was more than a thousand dollars they paid for him. + +"He said that they used to put up niggers on the block and auction them +off. They auctioned off niggers accordin' to the breed of them. Like +they auction off dogs and horses. The better the breed, the more they'd +pay. My father was in the first-class rating as a good healthy Negro and +those kind sold for good money. I have heard him say that niggers +sometimes brought as high as five thousand dollars. + +"My father don't know much about his first boss man. But the Boones were +very good to them. They got biscuits once a week. The overseer was +pretty cruel to them in a way. My father has seen them whipped till they +couldn't stand up and then salt and things that hurt poured in their +wounds. My father said that he seen that done; I don't know whether it +was his boss man or the overseer that done it. + +"My father said that they breeded good niggers--stud 'em like horses and +cattle. Good healthy man and woman that would breed fast, they would +keep stalled up. Wouldn't let them get out and work. Keep them to raise +young niggers from. I don't know for certain that my father was used +that way or not. I don't suppose he would have told me that, but he was +a mighty fine man and he sold for a lot of money. The slaves weren't to +blame for that. + +"My father said that in about two or three months after the War ended, +his young master told them that they were free. They came home from the +War about that time. He told them that they could continue living on +with them or that they could go to some one else if they wanted to +'cause they were free and there wasn't any more slavery. + +"I was born after slavery. Peace was declared in 1865, wasn't it? When +the War ended I don't know where my father was living, but I was bred +and born in Woodruff near Augusta in Arkansas. All the Booneses were +there when I knew anything about it. They owned hundreds and hundreds of +acres of ground. I was born on old Captain Boone's farm. + +"My father was always a farmer. He farmed till he died. They were +supposed to give him a pension, but he never did get it. They wrote to +us once or twice and asked for his number and things like that, but they +never did do nothing. You see he fit in the Civil War. Wait a minute. We +had his old gun for years. My oldest brother had that gun. He kept that +gun and them old blue uniforms with big brass buttons. My old master had +a horn he blowed to call the slaves with, and my brother had that too. +He kept them things as particular as you would keep victuals. + +"Yes, my father fit in the Civil War. I have seen his war clothes as +many times as you have hairs on your head I reckon. He had his old sword +and all. They had a hard battle down in Mississippi once he told me. Our +house got burnt up and we lost his honorable discharge. But he was +legally discharged. But he didn't git nothin' for it, and we didn't +neither. + +"My father was whipped by the pateroles several times. They run him and +whipped him. My daddy slipped out many a time. But they never caught him +when he slipped out. They never whipped him for slippin' out. That was +during the time he was a slave. The slaves wasn't allowed to go from one +master to another without a pass. My father said that sometimes, his +young master would play a joke on him. My father couldn't read. His +young master would give him a pass and the pass would say, 'Whip Arthur +Boone's --- and pass him out. When he comes back, whip his --- again and +pass him back.' His young master called hisself playin' a joke on him. +They wouldn't hit him more than half a dozen licks, but they would make +him take his pants down and they would give them to him jus' where the +pass said. They wouldn't hurt him much. It was more devilment than +anything else. He would say, 'Whut you hittin' me for when I got a +pass?' and they would say, 'Yes, you got a pass, but it says whip your +---.' And they would show it to him, and then they would say, 'You'll +git the res' when you come back.' My father couldn't read nothin' else, +but that's one word he learnt to read right well. + +"My father was quite a young man in his day. He died in 1891. He was +just fifty-six years old. I'm older now than he was when he died. My +occupation when I was well was janitor. I have been sick now for three +years and ain't done nothin' in all that time. If it wasn't for my wife, +I don't know whut I would do. + +"I was born in 1872, on December the eighth, and I am sixty-six years +old now. That is, I will be if the Lord lets me live till December the +eighth, this year. + +"Now whose story are you saying this is? You say this is the story of +Arthur Boone, father of J.F. Boone? Well, that's all right; but you +better mention that J.F. Boone is Arthur Boone's son. I rent this house +from Mr. Lindeman. He has the drug store right there. If anybody comes +lookin' for me, I might be moved, but Mr. Lindeman will still be there." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +If you have read this interview hastily and have missed the patroller +joke on page three, turn back and read it now. The interviewer considers +it the choicest thing in the story. + +That and the story of an unpensioned Union veteran and the insistence on +the word "son" seemed to me to set this story off as a little out of the +ordinary. + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Annie L. LaCotts +Person interviewed: Jonas Boone, St, Charles. Arkansas +Age: 86 + + +Most any day in St. Charles you can see an old Negro man coming down the +street with a small sack made of bed ticking hanging shot-pouch fashion +from his shoulder. This is old Uncle Jonas Boone who by the aid of his +heavy cane walks to town and makes the round of his white folks homes to +be given some old shoes, clothes, or possibly a mess of greens or some +sweet potatoes--in fact whatever he may find. + +"Jonas, can you remember anything about the war or slavery time?" + +"Yes mam I was a great big boy when the slaves were sot free." + +"Do you know how old you are?" + +"Yes mam I will be 87 years old on March 15th. I was born in Mississippi +at Cornerville. My mother belonged to Mr. L.D. Hewitt's wife. She didn't +have many slaves--just my parents and my two uncles and their families. +My daddy and two uncles went to the war but our mistress' husband Mr. +Hewitt was too old to go. I guess my daddy was killed in de war, for he +never come home when my uncles did. We lived here in Arkansas close to +St. Charles. Our mistress was good to her slaves but when they were free +her husband had got himself drowned in big LaGrue when de water was high +all over the bottoms and low ground; he was trying to cross in a boat, +what you call a dug out. You know it's a big log scooped out till it +floats like a boat. Then after that our mistress wanted to go back to +her old home in Mississippi and couldn't take us with her cause she +didn't have any money, so we stayed here. My mammy cried days and nights +when she knew her mistress was going to leave her here in Arkansas. We +moved down on de Schute and worked for Mr. Mack Price. You know he was +Mr. Arthur's and Miss Joe's father." + +"Jonas, if your owners were Hewitts why is your name Boone?" + +"Well you see, miss, my daddy's daddy belonged to Mr. Daniel Boone, Mr. +John Boone's and Miss Mary Black's grandpa, and I was named Boone for +him, my granddaddy. I been married twice. My last wife owns her home out +close to de church west of St. Charles. I haven't been able to work any +for over two years but my wife makes us a living. She's 42 or 43 years +old and a good worker and a good woman. I've been all de time wanting +some of this help other folks been getting but dey won't give me +nothing. The woman what goes to your house to see if you needs relief +told me I was better off den most folks an' of course I know I'd rather +have my wife and home than have to be like lots of dese niggers who's +old and can't work and got nothing but what de Government give 'em." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person Interviewed: John Bowdry, Clarendon, Arkansas +Age: 75 + + +"I was born at Baldwyn, Mississippi not for from Corinth. When my mother +was last seen she was going away with a bunch of Yankees. I don't know +what it was. She was a dark woman. Pa was light. I was born in 1865. I +was left when I was two or three months old. I never seen no pa. They +left me with my uncle what raised me. He was a slave but too young to go +to war. His master was named Porter. Master Stevenson had sold him. He +liked Porter the best. He took the name of Stanfield Porter at freedom. +Porters had a ordinary farm. He wasn't rich. He had a few slaves. +Stevenson had a lot of slaves. Grandfather was in Charleston, South +Carolina. Him and my uncle corresponded. My uncle learnet to read and +write but I guess somebody done his writing for him at the other end. + +"My Uncle Stanfield seen a heap of the War. He seen them fight, come by +in droves a mile long. They wasted their feed and living too. + +"At freedom Master Porter told them about it and he lived on there a few +years till I come into recollection. I found out about my pa and mother. +They had three sets of children in the house. They was better to them. +All of them got better treatment 'en I did. One day I left. I'd been +making up my mind to leave. I was thirteen years old. Scared of +everything. I walked twenty miles to Middleton, Tennessee. I slept at +the state line at some stranger's but at black folks' house. I walked +all day two days. I got a job at some white folks good as my parents. +His name wae J.D. Palmer. He was a big farmer. I slept in a servant's +house and et in his own kitchen. He sont me to school two two-month +terms. Four months all I got. I got my board then four months. I got my +board and eight dollars a month the other months in the year. He died. + +"I come to Forrest City when I was twenty years old. + +"I been married. I got a girl lives wid me here. My girl, she married. + +"I ain't got no complaint again' the times. My life has been fair. I +worked mighty hard." + + + + +Name of Interviewer: Irene Robertson +Subject: Ex-Slave--History + + +This information given by: Jack Boyd +Place of Residence: Hazen, Arkansas +Occupation: Light jobs now. AGE: 72 +[TR: Information moved from bottom of first page.] + + +[HW: The Boyd Negroes] + +Jack Boyd was born a slave. Miss Ester's mother was a Boyd and married a +Donnahoo. Miss Ester Donnahoo married Jim Shed. The Boyd's lived in +Richmond, Virginia. They sold Jack Boyd's grandmother, grandfather, +mother, and father a number of times. One time they were down, in +Georgia not far from Atalnta. They were being ill treated. The new +master had promised to be good to them so he wasn't and the news had +gotten back to Virginia as it had a time or two before so the Boyds sent +to Georgia and brought them back and took them back home to Virginia. +The Boyds always asked the new masters to be good to them but no one was +never so good to them as the Boyds were, and they would buy them back +again. When freedom was declared three of the Boyd brothers and Miss +Ester's husband Jim Shed, was the last master of Charlie Boyd. Jack's +father came to Waco, Texas. They may have been there before for they +were "big ranchmen" but that is when Jack Boyds whole family came to +Texas. There were thirty six in his family. The families then were +large. When Jack grew up to be about ten years old there wasn't anything +much at Waco except a butcher shop and a blacksmith shop. Jim Shed alone +had 1800 acres of land his own. He used nine cowboys, some white and +some black. The first of January every year the cattle was ready to be +driven to Kansas City to market. They all rode broncos. It would rain, +sometimes hail and sometimes they would get into thunder storms. The +cattle would stampede, get lost and have to be found. + +They slept in the open plains at night. They had good clothes. They +would ride two or three weeks and couldn't get a switch. Finally in +about June or July they would get into Kansas City. The white masters +were there waiting and bought food and supplies to take back home. They +would have started another troop of cowboys with cattle about June and +meet them in Kansas City just before Christmas. Jack liked this life +except it was a hard life in bad weather. They had a good living and the +Masters made "big money." Jack said he always had his own money then. +His people are scattered around Waco now, "the Boyd negroes." He hasn't +been back since he came to Arkansas when he was about eighteen. He +married here and had "raised" a big family. The plains were full of +rattle snakes, rabbits, wild cats and lots of other wild animals. They +never started out with less than 400 head of cattle. They picked cattle +that would travel about together. It would all be grown or about the +same age. The worst thing they had to contend with was a lack of water. +They had to carry water along and catch rainwater and hunt places to +water the cattle. His father's and grandfather's masters names were +Gillis, Hawkins, and Sam Boyd. They were the three who came to Texas and +located the ranch at Waco. Jack thinks they have been dead a long time +but they have heirs around Waco now. Jack Boyd left Waco in 1881. + + + + +Circumstances Of Interview + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Bernice Bowden + +ADDEESS--1006 Oak Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas + +DATE--November 2, 1938 + +SUBJECT--Ex-slaves + +1. Name and address of informant--Mal Boyd, son of slaves + +2. Date and time of interview--November 1, 1938, 9:45 a.m. + +3. Place of interview--101 Miller Street + +4. Name and address of person, if any, who put you in touch with +informant--None. I saw him sitting on porch as I walked along. + +5. Name and address of person, if any, accompanying you--None + +6. Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.--Frame house. Sat on +porch. Yard clean--everything neat. Near foundry on graveled street in +suburbs of west Pine Bluff. + + +Text of Interview + +"Papa belonged to Bill Boyd. Papa said he was his father and treated him +just like the rest of his children. He said Bill Boyd was an Irishman. I +know papa looked kinda like an Irishman--face was red. Mama was about my +color. Papa was born in Texas, but he came to Arkansas. I member hearin' +him say he saw 'em fight six months in one place, down here at Marks' +Mill. He said Bill Boyd had three sons, Urk and Tom and Nat. They was in +the Civil War. I heered Tom Boyd say he was in behind a crew of men in +the war and a Yankee started shootin' and when he shot down the last one +next to Tom, he seen who it was doin' the shootin' and he shot him and +saved his life. He was the hind one. + +"I've farmed mostly and sawmilled. + +"I use to get as high as three and five dollars callin' figgers for the +white folks." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +NAME OF WORKER--Bernice Bowden + +NAME AND ADDRESSS OF INFORMANT--Mal Boyd, 101 Miller Street, Pine Bluff, +Arkansas + + +Subscribes to the Daily Graphic and reads of world affairs. Goes to a +friend's house and listens to the radio. Lives with daughter and is +supported by her. House belongs to a son-in-law. Wore good clothing and +was very clean. He hoped that the United States would not become +involved in a war. + + + + +Personal History of Informant + + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Bernice Bowden + +ADDRESS--1006 Oak Street + +DATE--November 2, 1938 + +SUBJECT--Ex-slaves + +NAME AND ADDRESS OF INFORMANT--Mal Boyd, 101 Miller Street, Pine Bluff, +Ark. + +1. Ancestry--Father, Tol Boyd; Mother, Julia Dangerfield. + +2. Place and date of birth--Cleveland County, August 4, 1873 + +3. Family--Lives with daughter. Has one other daughter. Mother one-half +Indian, born in Alabama, he thinks. + +4. Places lived in, with dates--Ouachita County, Dallas County. Bradley +County, Jefferson County. + +5. Education, with dates--Began schooling in 1880 and went until twelve +or thirteen. + +6. Occupations and accomplishments, with dates--Farmed till 21, public +work? Sawmill work. + +7. Special skills and interests--None + +8. Community and religious activities--Ward Chapel on West Sixth. + +9. Description of informant--Gray hair, height 5 ft. 9 in., high +cheekbones. Gray hair--practically straight says like father. + +10. Other points gained in interview--Says father was part Irish. +Belonged to Bill Boyd. Stayed there for years after freedom. + + + + +Name of Interviewer: Irene Robertson +Subject: EX-SLAVE--HISTORY--OLD SAYINGS + + +This information given by: George Braddox +Place of Residence: Hazen, Arkansas +Occupation: Farmer AGE: 80 +[TR: Information moved from bottom of first page.] + + +George Braddox was born a slave but his mother being freed when he was +eipht years old they went to themselves--George had one sister and one +brother. He doesn't know anything about them but thinks they are dead as +he is the youngest of the three. His father's name was Peter Calloway He +went with Gus Taylor to the war and never came back to his family. +George said he had been to Chicago several times to see his father where +he was living. But his mother let her children go by that name. She gave +them a name Braddox when they were freed. Calloways lived on a joining +plantation to John and Dave Gemes. John Gemes was the old master and +Dave the young. George said they were mean to him. He can remember that +Gus Taylor wes overseer for the Gemes till he went to war. The Gemes +lived in a brick house and the slaves lived in log houses. They had a +big farm and raised cotton and corn. The cotton was six feet tall and +had big leaves. They had to pull the leaves to let the bowls get the sun +to open. They topped the cotton too. They made lots of cotton and corn +to an acre. Dave Gemes had several children when George moved away, +their names were Ruben, John, Margaret, Susie and Betty. They went to +school at Marshall, Texas. + +John Gemes had fine carriages, horses and mules. He had one old slave +who just milked and churned. She didn't do anything else. When young +calves had to be attended to somebody else had to help her and one man +did all the feeding. They had lots of peafowles, ducks, geese and +chickens. + +They had mixed stock of chickens and guineas--always had a drove of +turkeys. Sometimes the turkeys would go off with wild turkeys. There +were wild hogs and turkeys in the woods. George never learned to read or +write. He remembers they built a school for white children on the +Calloway place joining the Gemes place but he thought it was tuition +school. George said he thought the Gemes and all his "kin" folks came +from Alabama to Texas, but he is not sure but he does know this. Dr. +Hazen came from Tennessee to Texas and back to Hazen, Arkansas and +settled. His cousin Jane Hodge (colored) was working out near here and +he came here to deer hunt and just stayed with them. He said deer was +plentiful here. It was not cleared and so close to White Cache, St. +Francis and Mississippi rivers. + +George said his mother cooked for the Gemes the first he could remember +of her. That was all she had time to do. It was five miles to Marshall. +They lived in Harrison County and they could buy somethings to eat there +if they didn't raise enough. They bought cheese by the cases in round +boxes and flour in barrels and sugar in barrels. They had fine clothes +for Sunday. After his mother left the Gemes they worked in the field or +did anything she could for a living. + +George married after he came to Arkansas and bought a farm 140 acres of +land 4 miles north of Hazen and a white man, -- --- closed a mortgage +out on him and took it. He paid $300.00 for a house in town in which he +now lives. His son was killed in the World War and he gets his son's +insurance every month. + +George said when he came to Arkansas it was easy to live if you liked to +hunt. Ship the skins and get some money when you couldn't be farming. +Could get all the wood you would cut and then clear out land and farm. +He hunted 7 or 8 years with Colonel A.F. Yopp and fed Colonel's dogs. He +hunted with Mr. Yopp but he didn't think Colonel was a very good man. I +gathered from George that he didn't approve of wickedness. + +It is bad luck to dig a grave the day before a person is buried, or any +time before the day of the burying. Uncle George has dug or helped to +dig lots of graves. It is bad luck to the family of the dead person. The +grave ought not to be "left open" it is called. He has always heard this +and believes it, yet he can't remember when he first heard it. + +He thinks there are spirits that direct your life and if you do wrong +the evil fates let you be punished. He believes in good and evil +spirits. Spirits right here among us. He says there is "bound to be +spirits" or "something like 'em." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: George Braddox, Hazen, Arkansas +Age: 81 + + +Most of the old songs were religious. I don't remember none much. When +the war broke out my papa jess left and went on off with some people and +joined the Yankee army. I went to see him since I been at Hazen. He +lived in Chicago. Yes mam he's been dead a long time ago. Gus Taylor and +Peter Calloway (white) took my papa with them for their helper. He left +them and went with the Yankee army soon as he heard what they was +fighting about. Peter Calloway lived on a big track of land joining Dave +Genes land. It show was a big farm. Peter Calloway owned my papa and +Dave Genes my mama. Gus Taylor was Dave Genes overseer. Peter Calloway +never come back from the war. My folks come from Alabama with Dave Genes +and his son John Genes. I was born in Harrison county, Texas. Gus Taylor +was a great big man. He was mean to us all. The Yankees camped there. It +was near Marshall. I had some good friends among the Yankees. They kept +me posted all time the war went on. Nobody never learnt me nothing. I +can cipher a little and count money. I took that up. I learned after I +was grown a few things. Just learned it myself. I never went to school a +day in my life. The Genes had a brick, big red brick house. They sent +their children to schools. They had stock, peafowls, cows, guineas, +geese, ducks and chickens, hogs and everything. Old woman on the place +just milked and churned. That is all she done. + +I never heard of no plantations being divided. They never give us +nothing, not nothing. Right after the war was the worse times we ever +have had. We ain't had no sich hard times since then. The white folks +got all was made. It was best we could do. The Yankees what camped down +there told us about the surrender. If the colored folks had started an +uprisin the white folks would have set the hounds on us and killed us. + +I never heard of the Ku Klux Klan ever being in Texas. Gus Taylor was +the ridin boss and he was Ku Klux enough. Everybody was scared not to +mind him. He rode over three or four hundred acres of ground. He could +beat any fellow under him. I never did see anybody sold. I never was +sold. We was glad to be set free. I didn't know what it would be like. +It was just like opening the door and lettin the bird fly out. He might +starve, or freeze, or be killed pretty soon but he just felt good +because he was free. We show did have a hard time getting along right +after we was set free. The white folks what had money wouldn't pay +nothing much for work. All the slaves was in confusion. + +A cousin of mine saw Dr. Hazen down in Texas and they all come back to +work his land. They wrote to us about it being so fine for hunting. I +always liked to hunt so I rode a pony and come to them. The white folks +in Texas told the Yankees what to do after the surrender; get off the +land. We didn't never vote there but I voted in Arkansas. Mr. Abel +Rinehardt always hope me. I could trust him. I don't vote now. No +colored people held office in Texas or here that I heard of. + +I got nothing to say bout the way the young generation is doing. + +I farmed around Hazen nearly ever since the Civil War. I saved $300 and +bought this here house. My son was killed in the World War and I get his +insurance every month. I hunted with Colonel Yapp and fed his dogs. He +never paid me a cent for taking care of the dogs. His widow never as +much as give me a dog. She never give me nothing! + +I'm too old to worry bout the present conditions. They ain't gettin no +better. I sees dot. + + + + +Interviewer: Bernice Bowden +Person Interviewed: Edward Bradley + 115 South Plum Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 70 + + +"I was seventy years old this last past June, the sixth day. Lots of +people say I don't look that old but I'm sure seventy and I've done a +lot of hard work in my day. One thing, I've taken good care of myself. I +never did lose much sleep. + +"I farmed forty years of my life. Been in this State thirty-seven years. +I was born in Hardin County, Tennessee. I disremember what age I was +when I left Tennessee. + +"My mother was named Mary Bradley and my father was named Hilliard +Bradley. They originated in Alabama and was sold there, and they was +free when they come to Tennessee. + +"Bradley was the last man owned 'em. I think Beaumont sold 'em to +Bradley. That's the way I always heered 'em talk. I think they claimed +their owners was pretty good to 'em. I know I heered my father say he +never did get a whippin' from either one of 'em. + +"Of course my mother wasn't a Bradley fore she married, she was a +Murphy. + +"I had one brother four years older than I was. He was my half-brother +and I had a whole brother was two years older than I. + +"First place I lived in Arkansas was near Blytheville. I lived there +four years. I was married and farmin' for myself. + +"I went from Hardin County, Tennessee to Blytheville, Arkansas by land. +Drove a team and two cows. I think we was on the road four days. My wife +went by train. You know that was too wearisome for her to go by land. + +"I had been runnin a five-horse crop in Tennessee and I carried three +boys that I used to work with me. + +"The last year I was there I cleared $1660.44. I never will forget it. I +made a hundred and ten bales of cotton and left 2000 pounds of seed +cotton in the field cause I was goin' to move. + +"My folks was sick all the time. Wasn't any canals in that country, and +my wife had malaria every year. + +"After I got my crop finished I'd get out and log. I was raised in a +poor county and you take a man like that, he's always a good worker. I +rented the land--365 acres and I had seven families workin for me. I was +responsible for everything. I told 'em that last year that if I cleared +over a $1000, I'd give 'em ten dollars a piece. And I give it to 'em +too. You see they was under my jurisdiction. + +"Next place I lived was Forrest City. They all went with me. Had to +charter a car to move 'em. It was loaded too. + +"I had 55 hogs, 17 head of cattle, 13 head of mules and horses. And I +had killed 1500 pounds of hogs. You see besides my family I had +two-month-hands--worked by the month. + +"I own a home in Forrest City now. I'm goin back right after Christmas. +My children had it fixed up. Had the waterworks and electric lights put +in. + +"Two of my daughters married big school teachers. One handles a big +school in Augusta and the other in Forrest City. One of 'em is in the +Smith-Hughes work too. + +"I've done something no other man has done. I've educated four of my +brothers and sisters after my father died and four of my wife's brothers +and sisters and one adopted boy and my own six children--fifteen in all. +A man said to me once, "Why any man that's done that much for education +ought to get a pension from the educator people." + +"I never went to school six months in my life but I can read and write. +I'm not extra good in spelling--that's my hindrance, but I can figger +very well. + +"We always got our children started 'fore they went to school and then I +could help 'em in school till they got to United States money. + +"Another thing I always would do, I would buy these block A, B, C's. +Everyone learned their A, B, C's fore they went to school. + +"I reckon I'm a self-made man in a lot of things. I learnt my own self +how to blacksmith. I worked for a man for nothin' just so I could learn +and after that for about a year I was the best plow sharpener. And then +I learned how to carpenter. + +"My mother was awful good on head countin' and she learnt me when I was +a little fellow. My oldest brother use to help me. We'd sit by the fire, +so you see you might say I got a fireside education. + +"When I left Forrest City I moved to England and made one crop and moved +to Baucum and made one crop and then I moved on the Sheridan Pike three +miles the other side of Dew Drop. I got the oil fever. They was sellin' +land under that headin'. Sold it to the colored folks and lots o' these +Bohemians. They sho is fine people to live by--so accommodatin'. + +"Then I came here to Pine Bluff in 1921. I hauled wood for two years. +Then I put in my application at the Cotton Belt Shops. That was in 1923 +and I worked there fifteen years. I retired from the shops this year and +took a half pension. I think I'll get about fifteen dollars a month. +That's my thoughts. + +"I have two daughters in Camden. One teaches school and one operates a +beauty parlor. + +"All six of my children finished high school and three graduated from +college. + +"I think the younger generation is livin' too fast. I know one thing, +they has done--they 'bout wore out the old folks. Old folks educate 'em +and can't accumulate anything. + +"They don't settle much now till they marry. Seems like the young folks +don't have much accommodation. + +"I'll tell you another thing, the children aren't carryin' out things +like they use to. I think when us old folks plays out this world is +goin' to be in a bad shape. + +"I belong out here to the Catholic Church--the oldest church in the +world. I use to belong to the Methodist Church, but they got along so +bad I got tired, so I went to the Catholic. I like it out +there--everthing so quiet and nice." + + + + +Name of Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Rachel Bradley. 1103 State Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 107? + + +Upon arriving at the humble unpainted home of Rachel Bradley I found her +sitting in the doorway on a typical split-oak bottomed chair watching +the traffic of State Street, one of our busiest streets out of the high +rent district. It is a mixture of white and Negro stores and homes. + +After asking her name to be sure I was really talking to Rachel Bradley, +I said I had been told she was a former slave. "Yes'm, I used to be a +slave." She smiled broadly displaying nearly a full set of teeth. She is +of a cheerful, happy disposition and seemed glad to answer my questions. +As to her age, she said she was "a little girl on the floor whan the +stars fell." I looked this up at the public library and found that +falling stars or showers of meteors occur in cycles of thirty-three +years. One such display was recorded in 1833 and another in 1866. So if +Rachel Bradley is really 107 years old, she was born in 1830. It is a +question in my mind whether or not she could have remembered falling +stars at the age of three, but on the other hand if she was "a little +girl on the floor" in 1866 she would be only somewhere between +seventy-five and eighty years of age. + +Her master and mistress were Mitchell and Elizabeth Simmons and they had +two sons and two daughters. They lived on a plantation about twelve +miles from Farmersville, Louisiana. + +Rachel was a house girl and her mother was the cook. Besides doing house +work, she was nursemaid and as she grew older did her mistress' sewing +and could also weave and knit. From the way she smiled and rolled her +eyes I could see that this was the happiest time of her life. "My white +folks was so good to me. I sat right down to the same table after they +was thru." + +While a child in the home of her white folks she played with her +mistress' children. In her own words "My mistress give us a task to do +and when we got it done, we went to our playhouse in the yard." + +When the war came along, her master was too old to go but his two sons +went and both lived through the war. + +Questioned about the Yankees during the war she said, "I seen right +smart of the Yankees. I seen the 'Calvary' go by. They didn't bother my +white folks none." + +Rachel said the ABC's for me but cannot read or write. She said her +mistress' children wanted to teach her but she would rather play so grew +up in ignorance. + +After the war Rachel's white folks moved to Texas and Rachel went to +live with her mistress' married daughter Martha. For her work she was +paid six dollars a month. She was not given any money by her former +owners after being freed, but was paid for her work. Later on Rachel +went to work in the field making a crop with her brother, turning it +over to the owner of the land for groceries and other supplies and when +the cotton was weighed "de white folks taken out part of our half. I +knowed they done it but we couldn't do nothin bout it." + +Rachel had four husbands and eleven children. Her second husband +abandoned her, taking the three oldest and leaving five with her. One +boy and one girl were old enough to help their mother in the field and +one stayed in the house with the babies, so she managed to make a living +working by the day for the white people. + +The only clash with the Ku Klux Klan was when they came to get an army +gun her husband had bought. + +Being a woman, Rachel did not know much about politics during the +Reconstruction period. She had heard the words "Democrat," "Radical" and +"Republican" and that was about all she remembered. + +Concerning the younger generation Rachel said: "I don't know what goin' +come of 'em. The most of 'em is on the beat" (trying to get all they can +from others). + +After moving to Arkansas, she made a living working in the field by the +day and as she grew older, washing and ironing, sewing, housecleaning +and cooking. + +Her long association with white people shows in her speech which is +quite plain with only a few typical Negro expressions, such as the +following: + +"She died this last gone Sattiday and I hope (help) shroud her." + +"When white lady find baby, I used to go hep draw the breas'." + +"Heap a people." + +"Bawn." + +The Welfare Department gives Rachel $8.00 a month. She pays $2.00 a +month for two rooms with no drinking water. With the help of her white +friends she manages to exist and says she is "pendin on the Lord" to +help her get along. + +She sang for me in a quavering voice the following songs reminiscent of +the war: + + "Homespun dresses plain I know. + And the hat palmetto too. + Hurrah! Hurrah! + We cheer for the South we love so dear, + We cheer for the homespun dresses + The Southern ladies wear!" + + + "Who is Price a fightin'? + He is a fightin', I do know. + I think it is old Curtis. + I hear the cannons roa'" + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Elizabeth Brannon, Biscoe, Arkansas + (Packed to move somewhere else) +Age: 40 plus + + +"I was born in Helena, Arkansas. Grandma raised me mostly. She was born +up in Virginia. Her name was Mariah Bell. + +"Grandmother was sold more than once. When she was small she and her +mother were sold together to different buyers. The morning she was sold +she could see her mother crying through the crowd, and the last she ever +seen her mother she was crying and waving to her. She never could forget +that. We all used to sit around her and we would all be crying with her +when she told that so many, many times. Grandmother said she was five +years old then and was sold to a doctor in Virginia. He made a house +girl of her and learned her to be a midwife. + +"She told us about a time when the stars fell or a time about like it. +Her master got scared in Virginia. His niece killed herself 'cause she +thought the world was coming to on end. Mama of the baby was walking, +crying and praying. Grandmama had the baby. She said it was a terrible +morning. + +"When grandmama was sold away from her own mother she took the new +master's cook for her mother. I live to see her. Her name was Charity +Walker. She was awful old. Grandmama didn't remember if her mother had +other children or not. She was the youngest. + +"Grandmama was sold again. Her second master wasn't good as her doctor +master. He didn't feed them good, didn't feed the children good neither. +He told his slaves to steal. Grandmama had two children there. She was +pregnant again. Grandpa stole a shoat. She craved meat. Meat was scarce +then and the War was on. Grandpa had it cut up and put away. Grandmama +had the oldest baby in the box under her bed and the youngest child +asleep in her bed. She was frying the meat. She seen the overseer across +the field stepping that way. Grandpa left and grandmama put the skillet +of meat in the bed with the baby and threw a big roll of cotton in the +fire. The overseer come in and looked around, asked what he smelled +burning. She told him it was a sack of motes (cotton lumps). Grandpa was +Jim Bell. His master learnet him to steal and lie. He got better after +freedom. + +"Grandmama never would let us have pockets in our aprons and dresses. +Said it was a temptation for us to learn to steal. She thought that was +awful and to lie too. + +"Grandmama and grandpa and mama and her sister, the baby, died. Come +with soldiers from Virginia to Helena, Arkansas on a big boat. They +nursed soldiers in the hospital in the last of the War. Grandpapa died +in 1895. He had heart trouble. He was seventy-five years old then. +Grandmama died in 1913. She was awful, awful old. Grandmama said they +put her off on College and Perry streets but that wasn't the names of +the streets then. She wore a baggin dress and brogan shoes. Brass-toed +shoes and brass eyelets. She would take grease and soot and make shoe +polish for them. We all wore that dress and the shoes at times. I wore +them to Peabody School in Helena and the children made so mich fun of +their cry (squeaking) till I begged them to get me some better looking +shoes for cold rainy spells of weather. I wore the dress. It was strong +nearly as leather. + +"When she was sold the last time she got a marble box and it had a small +lock and key. It was square and thick, size of four men's shoe boxes. +When she come to Arkansas she brought it filled with rice on the boat. +She kept her valuable papers in it. Our house burned and the shoes and +box both got away from me. Her oldest girl died after the surrender and +was never married. Never had children. + +"On College and Perry streets the hospital was cleared away and grandpa +bought the spot. It has had two houses rot down of his own on it. It has +been graded down and a big brick house stands there now. + +"She used to tell how when meat was so scarce she'd be cooking. She'd +wipe her girls' faces with the dishrag. One of them would lick her lips. +Make other children hungry for meat to see them so greasy. They hadn't +had any meat. + +"Grandmama told me her doctor master bought them shoes for her, and I +think they gave her the marble box. The children teased me so much +grandmama bought me some limber sole shoes. + +"Auntie was good they said and mama was mean so they said. Auntie died +after surrender. We'd tell grandmama she ought to put the skillet on +mama. She said the good Lord took care of her baby that time. Mama would +get so mad. She would whoop us for saying she ought to put the hot +skillet on her. + +"Grandmama was a midwife with black and white for forty-five years in +Helena. She worked for Joe Horner, Mr. Leifer, Mrs. E.M. Allen. Mama had +seven children, and grandmama raised Will Marshal (colored). He works at +D.T. Hargraves & Sons store now in Helena. He started a delivery boy but +now he is their main repair man. + +"Grandmama was a strong woman. Mama worked out at some places I told +you. Grandmama worked. Grandmama always had a pretty flower yard. She +did love pretty flowers. + +"Mama minded grandmama like one of us. She was a good woman. None of us, +not even the boys, ever had pockets in our clothes. Grandmama made them +for us. She taught us not to lie and steal. She thought it was the worse +thing you could do. She was loved and respected by white and black till +she died down at Helena in 1913. They are all buried down there." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Mack Brantley, Brinkley, Arkansas +Age: 80 + + +"I was born in Dallas County close to Selma, Alabama. My mother's owners +was Miss Mary Ann Roscoe and her husband was Master Ephriam Roscoe. They +had a good size gin and farm. We would gather 'round and tell ha'nt +tales till we would be scared to go home in the dark. The wind would +turn the old-fashioned screw and make a noise like packing cotton. We +older children would run and make out we thought it was the spirits. We +knowed better but the little children was afraid. + +"My parents was Lucindy Roscoe. My pa belong to Warren Brantley. His +name was Silica Brantley. + +"I was a stole chile. Ma had a husband the master give her and had +children. My pa lived on a joining farm. She wasn't supposen to have +children by my pa. That is why I'm called Mack Brantley now. Mama died +and Green Roscoe, my older brother, took me to Howell's so they would +raise me. They was all kin. I was six months old when ma died. My sister +nursed me but Miss Mary Ann Roscoe suckled me wid Miss Minnie. When Miss +Minnie got grown and married she went to Mobile, Alabama to live. Later +Brother Silica give me to Master Henry Harrell. They sent me to school. +I never went to colored school. We went to Blunt Springs three months +every year in the summer time. When we come home one year Mr. Hankton +was gone and he never come back. He was my only teacher. The white +population didn't like him and they finally got him away. + +"They was good white people. I had a pallet in the room and in the +morning I took it up and put it away in a little room. I slept in the +house till I was good and grown. I made fires for them in the winter +time. Mr. Walter died three years ago. He was their son. He had a big +store there. Miss Carrie married Charlie Hooper. He courted her five +years. I bring her a letter and she tore it up before she read it. He +kept coming. He lived in Kentucky. The last I heard they lived in +Birmingham. Miss Kitty Avery Harrell was my mistress at freedom and +after, and after boss died. I had four children when I left. If Mr. +Walter was living I'd go to him now. Mr. Hooper would cuss. Old boss +didn't cuss. I never liked Mr. Hooper's ways. Old boss was kinder. All +my sisters dead. I reckon I got two brothers. Charles Roscoe was where +boss left him. He was grown when I was a child. Jack Roscoe lives at +Forrest, Mississippi. Brother Silica Roscoe had a wife and children when +freedom come on. He left that wife and got married to another one and +went off to Mississippi. Preachers quit their slavery wives and children +and married other wives. It wasn't right. No ma'am, it wasn't right. +Awful lot of it was done. Then is when I got took to my Miss Kitty. +After freedom is right. + +"I tole you I was a stole chile. I never seen my own pa but a few times. +He lived on a joining farm. Ma had a husband her master give her the +first time they had been at a big log rolling and come up for dinner. +They put the planks out and the dinner on it. They kept saying, 'Mack, +shake hands with your papa.' He was standing off to one side. It was +sorter shame. They kept on. I was little. I went over there. He shook +hands with me. I said, 'Hi, papa! Give me a nickel.' He reached in his +pocket and give me a nickel. Then they stopped teasing me. He went off +on Alabama River eighteen miles from us to Caholba, Alabama. I never +seen him much more. Ma had been dead then several years. + +"Green, my brother, took me to Miss Mary Ann Roscoe when mama died. She +was my ma's owner. I stayed there till Green died. A whole lot of boys +was standing around and bet Green he couldn't tote that barrel of +molasses a certain piece. They helped it up and was to help him put it +down and give him five dollars. That was late in the ebenin'. He let the +barrel down and a ball as big as a goose egg of blood come out of his +mouth. The next day he died. Master got Dr. Blevins quick as he could +ride there. He was mad as he could be. Dr. Blevins said it weighed eight +hundred pounds. It was a hogshead of molasses. Green was much of a man. +He was a giant. Dr. Blevins said they had killed a good man. Green was +good and so strong. I never could forget it. Green was my standby. + +"The Yankees burnt Boss Henry's father's fine house, his gin, his grist +mill, and fifty or sixty bales of cotton and took several fine horses. +They took him out in his shirt tail and beat him, and whooped his wife, +trying to make them tell where the money was. He told her to tell. He +had it buried in a pot in the garden. They went and dug it up. Forty +thousand dollars in gold and silver. Out they lit then. I seen that. He +lived to be eighty and she lived to be seventy-eight years old. He had +owned seven or eight or ten miles of road land at Howell Crossroads. +Road land is like highway land, it is more costly. He had Henry and +Finas married and moved off. Miss Melia was his daughter and her husband +and the overseer was there but they couldn't save the money. I waited on +Misa Melia when she got sick and died. She was fine a woman as ever I +seen. Every colored person on the place knowed where the pot was buried. +Some of them planted it. They wouldn't tell. We could hear the battles +at Selma, Alabama. It was a roar and like an earthquake. + +"Freedom--I was a little boy. I cried to go with the bigger children. +They had to tote water. One day I heard somebody crying over 'cross a +ditch and fence covered with vines and small trees. I heard, 'Do pray +master.' I run hid under the house. I was snoring when they found me. I +heard somebody say, 'Slave day is over.' That is all I ever knowed about +freedom. The way I knowed, a Yankee. We was in the road piling up sand +and a lot of blue coats on horses was coming. We got out of the road and +went to tell our white folks. They said, 'Get out of their way, they are +Yankees.' + +"When I left Alabama I went to Mississippi. I worked my way on a +steamboat. I had been trained to do whatever I was commanded. The man, +my boss, said, 'Mack, get the rope behind the boiler and tie it to the +stob and 'dead man'. I tied it to the stob and I was looking for a dead +man. He showed me what it was. Then I tied it. I went to Vicksburg then. +I had got mixed up with a woman and run off. + +"I been married once in my life. I had eighteen children. Nine lived. I +got a boy here and a girl in Pine Bluff. My son's wife is mean to me. I +don't want to stay here. If I can get my pension started, I want to live +with my daughter. + +"I used to vote Republican. They claimed it made times better for my +race. I found out better. I don't vote now. Wilson was good as Mr. +Roosevelt, I think. I voted about eight years ago, I reckon. I didn't +vote for Mr. Roosevelt. + +"I wish I was young and had the chance this generation has got. Times is +better every way for a good man unless he is unable to work like I am +now. (This old man tends his garden, a large nice one--ed.) My son +supports me now." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Ellen Brass + 1427 W. Eighth Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: About 82 + + +[HW: White Folks want Niggers] + +"I was born in Alabama in Green County. I was about four years old when +I came from there; so I don't know much about it. I growed up in +Catahoula, Louisiana. My mother's name was Caroline Butler and my +father's name was Lee Butler. One of my father's brothers was named Sam +Butler. I used to be a Butler myself, but I married. My father and +mother were both slaves. They never did any slave work. + + +Father Free Raised + +"My father was free raised. The white folks raised him. I don't know how +he became free. All that I know is that he was raised right in the house +with the white folks and was free. His mother and father were both +slaves. I was quite small at the time and didn't know much. They bought +us like cattle and carried us from place to place. + + +Slave Houses + +"The slaves lived in log cabins with one room. I don't know what kind of +house the white folks lived in. They, the colored folks, ate corn bread, +wheat bread (they raised wheat in those times), pickled pork. They made +the flour right on the plantation. George Harris, a white man, was the +one who brought me out of Louisiana into this State. We traveled in +wagons in those days. George Harris owned us in Louisiana. + + +Slave Sales + +"We were sold from George Harris to Ben Hickinbottom. They bought us +then like cattle. I don't know whether it was a auction sale or a +private sale. I am telling it as near as I know it, and I am telling the +truth. Hickinbottom brought us to Catahoula Parish in Louisiana. Did I +say Harris brought us? Well, Hickinbottom brought us to Louisiana. I +don't know why they went from one place to the other like that. The +soldiers were bad about freeing the slaves. From Catahoula Parish, +Hickinbottom carried us to Alexandria, Louisiana, and in Alexandria, we +was set free. + + +How Freedom Came + +"According to my remembrance the Yankees come around and told the people +they was free. I was in Alexandria, Louisiana. They told the colored +folks they was free and to go and take what they wanted from the white +folks. They had us all out in the yard dancing and playing. They sang +the song: + + 'They hung Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree + While we all go marching on.' + +It wasn't the white folks on the plantation that told us we was free. It +was the soldiers their selves that came around and told us. We called +'em Yankees. + + +Right After the War + +"Right after the War, my folks farmed--raised cotton and corn. My mother +had died before I left Alabama. They claimed I was four years old when +my mother died in Alabama. My father died after freedom. + + +Occupation + +"My first occupation was farming--you know, field work. Sometimes I used +to work around the white people too--clean house and like that. + + +Random Opinions + +"The white folks ain't got no reason to mistreat the colored people. +They need us all the time. They don't want no food unless a nigger cooks +it. They want niggers to do all their washing and ironing. They want +niggers to do their sweeping and cleaning and everything around their +houses. The niggers handle everything they wears and hands them +everything they eat and drink. Ain't nobody can get closer to a white +person than a colored person. If we'd a wanted to kill 'em, they'd a all +done been dead. They ain't no reason for white people mistreating +colored people." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Alice Bratton, Wheatley, Arkansas +Age: 56 + + +"I was born a few miles from Martin, Tennessee. Mama was born in +Virginia. She and her sister was carried off from the Witherspoon place +and sold. She was Betty and her sister was named Addie. + +"Their mama had died and some folks said they would raise them and then +they sold them. She said they never did know who it was that carried +them off in a big carriage. They brought them to Nashville, Tennessee +and sold them under a big oak tree. They was tied with a hame string to +a hitching ring. Addie wanted to set down and couldn't. She said, +'Betty, wouldn't our mama cry if she could see us off like this?' Mama +said they both cried and cried and when the man come to look at them he +said he would buy them. They felt better and quit crying. He was such a +kind looking young man. + +"They lived out from Nashville a piece then. He took them home with him, +on a plank across the wagon bed. He was Master Davy Fuller. He had a +young wife and a little baby. Her name was Mistress Maude and the baby +was Carrie. She was proud of Betty and Addie. They told her their mama +died. Mama said she was good to them. She died the year of the surrender +and Master Davy took them all to his mother's and his papa put them out +to live with a family that worked on his place. + +"They went to see Carrie and played with her till Addie married and mama +come close to Martin to live with them. Addie took consumption and died, +then mama married Frank Bane and he died and I was born. + +"My pa was a white man. He was a bachelor, had a little store, and he +overcome mama. She never did marry no more. I was her only child. I +don't remember the man but mama told me how she got tripped up and +nearly died and for me never to let nobody trip me up that way. I sorter +recollect the store. It burned down one night. We lived around over +there till I was sixteen years old. We moved to a few miles of Corinth, +Mississippi on a farm. Mr. Cat Madford was the manager. I got married. I +married Will Bratton. We had a home wedding on Sunday evening. It was +cold and freezing and the freeze lasted over a week. Will Bratton was +black as night. I had one little boy. After mama died Will Bratton went +off with another woman. He come back but the place was mine. Mama left +it to me. I wouldn't let him stay there. I let him go on where he +pleased. + +"Times been growing slacker for a long time. People live slack. Young +folks coming on slacker and slacker every day. Don't know how to do, +don't want to know. They get by better 'en I did. I work in the field +and I can't hardly get by. I see folks do nothing all the time. Seem +like they happy. Times is hard for some, easy for some. I want to live +in the country like I is 'cause I belongs there. I can work and be +satisfied! I did own my home. I reckon I still do. I got a little cow +and some chickens." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Frank Briles + 817 Cross Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: About 82 or 83 + + +[HW: Gives up the Ghost] + +"I was born right here in Arkansas. My father's name was Moses Briles. +My mother's name was Judy Briles. Her name before she was married I +don't know. They belonged to the Briles. I don't know their first name +either. + +"My father was under slavery. He chopped cotton and plowed and scraped +cotton. That is where I got my part from. He would carry two rows along +at once. I was little and couldn't take care of a row by myself. I was +born down there along the time of the War, and my father didn't live +long afterwards. He died when they was settin' them all free. He was a +choppin' for the boss man and they would set them up on blocks and sell +them. I don't know who the man was that did the selling, but they tell +me they would sell them and buy them. + +"I am sick now. My head looks like it's goin' to bust open. + +"I have heard them tell about the pateroles. I didn't know them but I +heard about them. Them and the Ku Klux was about the same thing. Neither +one of them never did bother my folks. It was just like we now, nobody +was 'round us and there wasn't no one to bother you at all at Briles' +plantation. Briles' plantation I can't remember exactly where it was. It +was way down in the west part of Arkansas. Yes, I was born way back +south--east--way back. I don't know what the name of the place was but +it was in Arkansas. I know that. I don't know nothing about that. My +father and mother came from Virginia, they said. My father used to drive +cattle there, my mother said. I don't know nothin' except what they told +me. + +"I learnt a little some thing from my folks. I think of more things +every time I talk to somebody. I know one thing. The woman that bossed +me, she died. That was about--Lord I was a little bitty of a fellow, +didn't know nothin' then. She made clothes for me. She kept me in the +house all the time. She was a white woman. I know when they was setting +them free. I was goin' down to get a drink of water. My father said. +'Stop, you'll be drowned.' And I said, 'What must I do?' And he said, +'Go back and set down till I come back.' I don't know what my father was +doing or where he was going. There was a man--I don't know who--he come +'round and said, 'You're all free.' My mama said, 'Thank God for that. +Thank God for that.' That is all I know about that. + +"When I got old enough to work they put me in the woods splitting rails +and plowing. When I grew up I scraped cotton and worked on the farm. +That is where my father would come and say, 'Now, son, if anybody asks +you how you feel, tell them the truth.' + +"I went to school one session and then the man give down. He got sick +and couldn't carry it no longer. His pupils were catching up with him I +reckon. It was time to get sick or somethin'. + +"I never did marry. I was promised to marry a woman and she died. So I +said, 'Well, I will give up the ghost. I won't marry at all.' + +"I ain't able to do no work now 'cept a little pittling here and there. +I get a pension. It's been cut a whole lot." + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Mary Ann Brooks + James Addition, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 90 + + +"I was born here in Arkansas. Durin' the war we went to Texas and stayed +one year and six months. + +"My old master was old Dr. Brewster. He bought me when I was a girl +eight yeers old. Took me in for a debt. He had a drug store. I was a +nurse girl in the house. Stayed in the house all my life. + +"I stayed here till Dr. Brewster--Dr. Arthur Brewster was his +name--stayed here till he carried me to his brother-in-law Dr. Asa +Brunson. Stayed there awhile, then the war started and he carrled us all +to Texas. + +"I seen some Yankeee after we come back to Arkansas. I wes scared of em. + +"I don't knew nothln' bout the war. I wasn't in it. I was livin' but we +was in Texas. + +"The Ku Klux got after us twice when we was goin' to Texas. We had six +wagons, a cart, and a carriage. Old Dr. Brunson rode in the carriage. +He'd go ahead and pilot the way. We got lost twice. When we come to Red +River it was up and we had to camp there three weeks till the water +fell. + +"We took some sheep and some cows so we could kill meat on the way. I +member we forded Saline River. Dr. Brunson carried us there and stayed +till he hired us out. + +"After the war ceasted he come after us. Told as we didn't belong to him +no more--said we was free as he was. Yankees sent him after us. All the +folks come back--all but one famlly. + +"I had tolerable good owners. Miss Fanny Brewster good to me. + +"Old master got drunk so much. Come home sometimes muddy as a hog. All +his chillun was girls. I nursed all the girls but one. + +"I was a mighty dancer when I was young--danced all night long. +Paddyrollers run us home from dancin' one night. + +"I member one song we used to sing: + + 'Hop light lady + Cake was all dough-- + Never mind the weather, + So the wind don't blow.' + +"How many chillun I have? Les see--count em up. Ida, Willie, Clara--had +six. + +"Some of the young folks nowadays pretty rough. Some of em do right and +some don't. + +"Never did go to school. Coulda went but papa died and had to go to +work. + +"I thinks over old times sometimes by myself. Didn't know what freedom +was till we was free and didn't hardly know then. + +"Well, it's been a long time. All the Brewsters and the Bransons dead +and I'm still here--blind. Been blind eight years." + + + +Waters Brooks +1814 Pulaski Street, Little Rock, Ark. +Retired railroad worker, No. Pac. 75 +[TR: Information moved from bottom of each page.] + + +[HW: A Railroad Work History] + +I was only three years old when peace (1865) was declared. I was born in +1862. Peace was declared in 1865. I remember seeing plenty of men that +they said the white folks never whipped. I remember seeing plenty of men +that they said bought their own freedom. + +I remember a woman that they said fought with the overseer for a whole +day and stripped him naked as the day he was born. She was Nancy Ward. +Her owner was named Billie Ward. He had an overseer named Roper. Her +husband ran away from the white folks and stayed three years. He was in +the Bayou in a boat and the bottom dropped out of it. He climbed a tree +and hollered for someone to tel his master to come and get him if he +wanted him. + + +FATHER + +My father's master was John T. Williams. He went into the army--the +rebel army--and taken my father with him. I don't know how long my +father stayed in the army but I was only 6 months old when he died. He +had some kind of stomach trouble and died a natural death. + + +MOTHER + +My mother and father both belonged to Joe Ward at first but Ward died +and his widow married Williams. My mother told me and not only told me +but showed me knots across her shoulder where they whipped her from +seven in the morning until nine at night. She went into the smoke house +to get some meat and they closed in on her and shut the door and strung +her up by her hands (her arms were crossed and a rope run from her +wrists to the hook in the ceiling on which meat was hung). There were +three of them. One would whip until he was tired, and then the other +would take it up. + +Some years after she got that whipping, her master's child was down to +the bayou playing in the water. She told the child to stop playing in +the water, and it did not. Instead it threw dirt into the water that had +the bluing in it. Then she took the child and threw it into the Bayou. +Some way or other the child managed to scramble out. When the child's +aunt herd it from the child, she questioned my mother and asked her if +she did it. My mother told her "Yes". Then she said. "Well what do you +want to own it for? Don't you know if they find it out they will kill +you?" + + +HOW FREEDOM CAME + +My mother said that an old white man came through the quarters one +morning and said that they were all free--that they could go away or +stay where they were or do what they wanted to. If you will go there, I +can send you to an old man eighty-six years old who was in General +Sherman's army. He came from Mississippi. I don't know where he was a +slave. But he can tell you when peace was declared aad what they said +and everything. + + +WHAT THE SLAVES EXPECTED + +The slaves were not expecting much but they were expecting more than +they got. I am not telling you anything I read in history but I have +heard that there was a bounty in the treasury for the ex-slaves, and +them alone. And some reason or other they did not pay it off, but the +time was coming when they would pay it off. And every man or woman +living that was born a slave would benefit from it. They say that +Abraham Lincoln principally was killed because he was going to pay this +money to the ex-slaves end before they would permit it they killed him. +Old man White who lives out in the west part of town was an agent for +some Senator who was in Washington, and he charged a dime and took your +name and age and the place where you lived. + + +KU KLUX KLAN + +They called the K.K.K. "White Cape". Right there in my neighborhood, +there was a colered man who hadn't long come in. The colored man was +late coming into the lot to get the mule for the white man and woman he +was working for. The white man hit him. The Negro knocked the white man +down and was going to kill him when the white man begged him off, +telling him that he wouldn't let anybody else hurt him. He (the Negro) +went on off and never came back. That night there were two hundred White +Caps looking for him but they didn't find him. + +Another man got into an argument. They went to work and it started to +rain. The Negro thought that they would stop working because of the +rain; so he started home. The man he was working for met him and asked +him where he was going. When he told him he started to hit him with the +butt end of the gun he was wearing. The Negro knocked his gun up, took +it away from him, and drawed down and started to kill him when another +Negro knocked the gun up, and saved the white man's life. But the Nigger +might as well have killed him because that night seventy-five masked men +hunted him. He was hid away by his friends until he got a chance to get +away. This man was named Matthew Collins. + +There was another case. This was a political one. The colored man wanted +to run for representative of some kind. He had been stump speaking. He +lived on a white man's place, and the owner came to him and told him he +had better get away because a mob was coming after him (not just +K.K.K.). He told his wife to go away and stay with his brother but she +wouldn't. He hid himself in a trunk and his wife was under the floor +with his two children. The white men fired into the house and that +didn't do anything, so they throwed a ball of fire into the house and +burned his wife and children. Then he rose up and came out of the trunk +and hollered, "Look out I'm coming", and he fired a load of buck shot +and tore one man nearly in two and ran away in the confusion. The next +day he went to the man on whose place he lived, but he told him he +couldn't do anything about it. + +Another man by the name of Bob Sawyer had a farm near my home and +another farm down near Maginty's place. He worked the ????[TR: +Illegible] Niggers from one farm to the other. + +His boy would ride in front with a rifle and he would be in the rear +with a big gun swinging down from his hip. There wae one Nigger who got +out and went down to Alexandria (Louisiana). He wrote to the officers +and they caught the Nigger and put him into the stocks and brought him +back, and the man hadn't done a thing but run away. After that they +worked him with a chain holding his legs together so that he could only +make short steps. + +They had an old white man who worked there and they treated him so mean +he ran away and left his wife. They treated the poor whites about as bad +as they treated the colored. + +If Bob met a Negro carrying cotton to the Gin, he would ask "Whose +cotton is that?", and if the Nigger said it was some white man's, he +would let him alone. But if he said. "Mine", Bob would tell him to take +it to some Gin where he wanted it taken. He was the kind of man that if +you seen him first, you wouldn't meet him. + +One night he slipped up on a Nigger man that had left his place and +killed him as he sat at supper. I had an aunt with five or six children +who worker with him. He married my young Mistress after I was freed. + +I saw him do this. The white folks had a funeral at the church down +there one Sunday. He came along and young Billie Ward (white man) was +sitting in a buggy driving with his wife. When he saw Billie, he jumped +down out of his buggy and horse-whipped him until he ran away. All the +while, Sawyer's mother-in-law was sitting in his buggy calling out, +"Shoot him, Bob, shoot him." this was because Billie and another man +had done some talk about Bob. + + +OCCUPATIONS + +I came to Brinkley, Arkansas, March 4, 1900, and have been in Arkansas +ever since. Why I came, the postmaster where I was rented farm on which +I was farming. In March he put hands in my field to pick my cotton. All +that was in the field was mine. I knew that I couldn't do anything about +it so I left. A couple of years before that I rented five acres of land +from him for three dollars as acre (verbal agreement) sowed it down in +cotton. It done so well I made five bales of cotton on it. He saw the +prospects were so good that he went to the man who furnished me supplies +and told him that I had agreed to do my work on a third and fourth +(one-third of the seed and one-fourth of the cotton to go to the owner). +He get this although if he had stuck to the agreement he would not have +gotten but fifteen dollars. So he dealt me a blow there, but I got over +it. + +Before this I had bought a piece of timber land in Moorehouse parish +(Louisiana) and was expecting to get the money to finish paying for it +from my cotton. The cost was $100.00. So when he put hands in my field, +it made me mad, and I left. (Brooks would have lost most of his cotton +if the hands had picked it.) + +At Brinkley, I farmed on halves with Will Carter, one of the richest men +in Monroe County (Arkansas). I done $17.50 worth of work for Carter and +he paid me for it. Then he turned around and charged me up with it. When +we came to settle up, we couldn't settle. So finally, he said, "Figures +don't lie." and I said, "No, figures don't lie but men do." When I sed +that I stepped out and didn't get scared until I was half way home. But +nobody did anything. He sent for me but I wouldn't go back because I +knew what he was doing. + +After that I went to Wheatley, Arkansas, about five miles west of +Brinkley. I made a crop for Goldberg. Jake Readus was Goldberg's agent. +The folks had told the white folks I wasn't no account, so I couldn't +get nothing only just a little fat meat and bread, and I got as naked as +a jaybird. About the last part of August, when I had done laid by and +everything. Jake Readus came by and told me what the Niggers had said +and said he knowed it was a lie because I had the best crop on the +place. + +When Goldberg went to pay me off, he told Dr. Beauregard to come and get +his money. I said. "You give me my money; I pay my own debts. You have +nothing to do with it." When I said that you could have heard a pin +drop. But he gave it to me. Then I called the Doctor and gave him his +money and he receipted me. I never stayed there but one year. + +I moved then down to Napel[TR: Possibly Kapel] Slough on Dr. West's +place. I wanted to rent but Dr. West wouldn't advance me anything unless +he took a mortgage on my place; so I wouldn't stay there. I chartered a +car and took my things back to Brinkley at a cost of ten dollars. I +stayed around Brinkley all the winter. + +While I was at Wheatley, there was a man by the name of Will Smith who +married the daughter of Dr. Paster, druggist at Brinkley. Now Jim Smith, +poor white trash, attempted to assault Will Thomas' daughter. Negro +girl. When Thomas heard it, he hunted Jim with a Winchester. When that +got out, Deputy Sheriff arrested Will and they said that he was chained +when he was brought to trial. He got away from them somehow and went to +Jonesboro. I took my horse and rid seven or eight miles to carry his +clothes. Another Nigger who had promised to make a crop when he left had +the blood beat out of his back because he didn't do it. + +The winter, I worked at the Gin and Black Saw Mills. That spring I pulls +up and goes to Brises. That was in the year 1903. I made a crop with old +man Wiley Wormley one of the biggest Niggers there. I fell short. George +Walker furnished what I had. + +Then I left and went back to Brinkley and worked at the Sawmill again. +That was in 1904. I went to Jonesboro. I had just money enough to go to +Jonesboro, and I had a couple of dollars over. I had never been out +before that; so I spent that and didn't get any work. I stayed there +three days and nights and didn't get anything to eat. Lived in a box +car. Then I went to work with the Cotton Belt. + +My boarding mistress decided to go up to fifteen dollars for board. I +told her I couldn't pay her fifteen dollars for that month, but would +begin next month. She wouldn't have that and got the officers to look +for my money so I caught the train and went back to Brinkley and worked +on the railroad again from the Cotton Belt to the Rock Island. + +I was getting along all right and I done my job, but when the foreman +wanted me to work on the roof and I told him if that was all he had for +me to do he could pay me off because that was off the ground and I was +fraid of falling. He said that I was a good hand and that he hated to +lose me. + +In March, 4, 1907, I came here (Little Rock) and at first rolled +concrete in Niemeyer's at $1.50 a day where the other men were getting +from two to two and a half dollars. They quit for more wages and I had +to quit with them. Then I worked around till May 24 when I was hired at +the Mountain Shops as Engine wiper for about six or eight months, then +painted flues for three or four months, then was wood hauler for about +thirteen or more years, then took care of the situation with shavings +and oil, then stayed in wash room six or seven years until I was +retired. I had control of the ice house, too. + + +IDEAS ABOUT THE PRESENT + +Young people are just going back to old Ante-Bellum days. They are going +to destruction. They got a way of their own and you can't tell them +anything. They don't educate anything but their heads. The heart isn't +educated and if my heart is black as my hat, can I do anything for God? +The old people are not getting a square deal. Some of them are being +moved. + + +SCHOOLING + +I did not get much schooling. Between the time I was old enough to go to +school and the time I went to the field, I got a little. I would go to +school from July to September, and also about six weeks in January. + +They had public school taught by some of the people. I went to a white +man once. An old white woman taught there before him. I went to a Negro +woman, Old Lady Abbie Lindsay. She lives here now down on State Street. +She is about ninety years old. I went to Jube Williams (white), Current +Lewis, Abbie Lindsay, and A.G. Mertin. They did n't paas you by grades +then. I got through the fourth reader. If you got through, they would go +back and carry you through again. They had the old Blue Back Speller. I +got ready for the fifth reader but I quit. I had just begun to cipher, +in arithmetic, but I had to quit because they could n't spare me out of +the field. In fact they put me into the field when I was eight years +old, but I managed to go to school until I was about twelve years old or +something like that. I never got a year's schooling all put together. My +mother was a widow and had five or six children, none of them able or +big enough to work but my oldest sister. She raised five of us. + +If I had done as she told me, I might have been a good scholar. But I +played around and went off with the other children. I learnt way +afterwards when I was grown how to write my name. I could work addition +and I could work some in multiplication, but I couldn't work division +and couldn't work subtraction. Come around any time, specially on Sunday +afternoons. + + + + +Name of Interviewer: Velma Sample +Subject: NEGRO LORE--THE STORY OF CASIE JONES BROWN + + +Casie Jones Brown was a dearly loved Negro servant. He was known for his +loving kindness toward children, both black and white. Lots of the white +children would say, "Casie sure is smart" because Casie was a funny and +witty old darkie. Casie has a log house close to his master, Mr. Brown. +They live on what is called the Brown Plantation. The yard had large old +cedars planted all around it. They were planted almost a century ago. +The plantation is about six miles from Paragould, [TR: possibly +Baragould] Arkansas, where the hills are almost mountains. There have +been four generations living in the old house. They have the big sand +stone fireplaces. Casie has a spiritual power that makes him see and +hear things. He says that sometimes he can hear sweet voices somewhere +in his fireplace. In the winter time he does all of his cooking in a big +black kettle with three legs on it, or a big iron skillet. And when he +first settled there he did not have a stove to cook on except the +fireplace. He says the singing that comes from somewhere about the +fireplace is God having his angels entertain him in his lonely hours. +Casie is 91 years old and has been in that settlement as long as he can +remember. + +The little white boys and girls like to be entertained by Casie. He +tells them stories about the bear and peter rabbit. Also he has subjects +for them to ask questions about and he answers them in a clever way. He +was kind enough to let me see the list and the answers. He cannot write +but he has little kids to write them for him. He cannot read, but they +appoint one to read for him, and he has looked at the list so much that +he has it memorized. + +Casie, what does hat mean or use hat for a subject. "De price ob your +hat ain't de medjer ob your brain." + +Coat--"Ef your coat tail catch afire don't wait till you kin see de +blaze 'fo' you put it out." + +Graveyard--"De graveyard is de cheapes' boardin' house." + +Mules--"Dar's a fam'ly coolness 'twix' de mule an' de single-tree." + +Mad--"It pesters a man dreadful when he git mad an' don' know who to +cuss." + +Crop--"Buyin' on credit is robbin' next 'er's crop." + +Christmas--"Christmas without holiday is like a candle without a wick." + +Crawfish--"De crawfish in a hurry look like he tryin' to git dar +yastiddy." + +Lean houn'--"Lean houn' lead de pack when de rabbit in sight." + +Snow Flakes--"Little flakes make de deepes' snow." + +Whitewash--"Knot in de plank will show froo de whitewash." + +Yardstick--"A short yardstick is a po' thing to fight de debbul wid." + +Cotton--"Dirt sho de quickes' on de cleanes' cotton." + +Candy--"De candy-pullin' din call louder dan de log-rollin'." + +Apple--"De bes' apple float on de top o' 'ligion heaps de half-bushel." + +Hoe--"De steel hoe dat laughs at de iron one is like de man dat is +shamed of his grand-daddy." + +Mule--"A mule kin tote so much goodness in his face dat he don't hab +none lef' for his hind legs." + +Walks--"Some grabble walks may lead to de jail." + +Cow bell--"De cow bell can't keep a secret." + +Tree--"Ripe apples make de tree look taller." + +Rose--"De red rose don't brag in de dark." + +Billy-goat--"De billy-goat gits in his hardes' licks when he looks like +he gwine to back out of de fight." + +Good luck--"Tis hard for de bes' an' smartes' fokes in de wul' to git +'long widout a little tech o' good luck." + +Blind horse--"Blind horse knows when de trough empty." + +Wagon--"De noise of de wheels don't medjer de load in de wagon." + +Hot--"Las' 'ear's hot spell cools off mighty fast." + +Hole--"Little hole in your pocket is wusser'n a big one at de knee." + +Tim o' day--"Appetite don't regerlate de time o' day." + +Quagmire--"De quagmire don't hang out no sign." + +Needle--"One pusson kin th'ead a needle better than two." + +Pen--"De pint o' de pin is de easier in' to find." + +Turnip--"De green top don't medjer de price o' de turnip." + +Dog--"Muzzle on de yard dog unlocks de smokehouse." + + +EQUAL TO THE EMERGENCY + +Hebe: "Unc Isrul, mammy says, hoocume de milk so watery on top in de +mornin'." + +Patriarch: "Tell you' mammy dat's de bes' sort o' milk, dat's de dew on +it, de cows been layin' in de dew." + +Hebe: "An' she tell me to ax you what meck it so blue." + +Patriarch: "You ax your mammy what meck she so black." + +Here are some of Casie's little rhymes that he entertained the neighbor +children with: + +Look at dat possum in dat holler log. He hidin' he know dis nigger eat +possum laik a hog. + +Hear dat hoot owl in dat tree. Dat old hoot owl gwine hoot right out at +yew. + +Rabbit, rabbit, do you know; I can track you in de snow. + +One young man lingered at the gate after a long visit, but a lots ob +sweethearts do det. His lady love started to cry. He said, "Dear, don't +cry; I will come to see you again." But she cried on. "Oh, darling don't +cry so; I will come back again, I sure will." Still she cried. At last +he said: "Love, did I not tell you that I would soon come again to see +you?" And through her tears she replied: "Yes, but I am afraid you will +never go; that is what is the matter with me. We must all go." + +Uncle Joshua was once asked a great question. It was: "If you had to be +blown up which would you choose, to be blown up on the railroad or the +steamboat?" "Well," said Uncle Joshua, "I don't want to be blowed up no +way; but if I had to be blowed up I would rather be blowed up on de +railroad, because, you see, if you is blowed up on de railroad, dar you +is, but if you is blowed up on de steamboat, whar is you?" + +Casie tells me of some of his superstitions: + +If you are the first person a cat looks at after he has licked hisself, +you are going to be married. + +If you put a kitten under the cover of your bed and leave it until it +crawls out by itself, it will never leave home. + +If you walk through a place where a horse wallows, you will have a +headache. + +If a woodpecker raps on the house, someone is going to die. + +If an owl screeches, turn the pocket of your apron inside out, tie a +knot in your apron string, and he will stop. + +If a rabbit runs across the road in front of you, to the left, it is a +sign of bad luck; if it goes to the right, it is a sign of good luck. + +If you cut a child's finger nails before it is a year old, it will steal +when it grows up. + +If you put your hand on the head of a dead man, you will never worry +about him; he will never haunt you, and you will never fear death. + +If the pictures are not turned toward the wall after a death, some other +member of the family will die. + +If you see a dead man in the mirror, you will be unlucky the rest of +your life. + + + + +Name of Interviewer: Velma Sample +Subject: Slavery Days + + +THE ATTACK THE YANKEES MADE ON JOHNNIE REAVES PLACE GIVEN BY AUNT ELCIE +BROWN + +Aunt Elcie Brown (a negro girl age nine years old) was living in the +clay hills of Arkansas close to Centerville, and Clinton in Amid County +on Johnnie Reeves Place. Johnnie Reeves was old and had a son named +Henry L. Reeves who was married. Young Reeves got the news that they +were to be attacked by the Yankees at a certain time and he took his +family and all the best stock such as horses, cattle, and sheep to a +cave in a bluff which was hid from the spy-glasses of the Yankees, by +woods all around it. Johnnie Reeves was left to be attacked by the +soldiers. He was blind and almost paralyzed. He had to eat dried beef +shaved real fine and the negro children fed him. They ate as much of it +as he did. Aunt Elcie and her brother fed him most of the time. They +would get on each side of him and lead him for a walk most every day. +The natives thought they would bluff the soldiers and cut the bridge +into and thought that the soldiers would be unable to cross Beavers +Creek, but the Yankees was prepared. They had made a long bridge for the +soldiers to come marching right over. This bridge was just a mile from +Reeves farm. Then the soldiers came they were so many that they could +not all come up the big road but part of them came over the hill by the +sheeps spring and through the pasture. + +All the negroes came out of their shacks and watched them march toward +their houses. Elcie and her brother got scared and ran in the house, +crawled in bed and thought they were hid, as they had scrutched down in +the middle of the bed with the door locked. But the soldiers bursted in +and moved the bed from the corner. One stood over the bed and laughed, +then asked the other man to look, then threw the covers off of them. He +first took her brother by one arm and one leg and stood him on his feet, +patted his head and told him not to be afraid, that they would not hurt +them. Then took Elcie and stood her up. He reached in a bag lined with +fur which was strapped on them and gave them both a stick of candy. +Elcie says she thinks that is why she has always liked stick candy. She +also says that that day has stood out to her and she can see everything +just like it was yesterday. All the negro homes were close together and +the soldiers raided them in small bunches. They were kind to the negro +children. Wnen they started to the big house where Johnnie Reeves lived +all the negro children followed them. When they entered the house Mr. +Reeves was sitting by the side of the fire-place and every one that +passed him kicked him brutely. They ransacked the place all over and +when they got up stairs they kicked out all the window pains and tore +off all the window-shutters. They took all the things they wanted out of +the house, such as silver-ware, and jewelry. The smoke-house, milk-house +and store-house was three separate buildings in a row. The first one +they entered was the milk-house. It had seven shelves of milk, cream and +butter in it. There was eleven crocks of sweet milk larger than a +waterbucket. They had forty gallons of butter milk, and over three +gallons of butter in a large flat crock. They also had over five gallons +of cream. The Yankee soldiers ate all the butter and cream and set the +milk in the yard and ask the negro kids to finish the milk. + +They drank it like pigs without a cup, just stuck their heads down and +drank like pigs. When they were full the balance of the milk was so +dirty it looked like pigs had been in it. + +The soldiers entered the next building which was the store-room where +they stored rice, flour, sugar, coffee, and such like, and they took +what they wanted, then destroyed the rest. Mr. Reeves had just been to +town and bought a hogshead of sugar and they took it out and burst it +and invited the negro children to help themselves. Elcie says that when +the kids all got full there was not a half bushel left. The last raid +was the smoke-house where stuffed sausage was hanging by the hundred and +hams by the dozens. They didn't leave a thing, took lard and everything. +It took over two wagons to hold everything. Then they crossed over to +the next place owned by Bill Gunley. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Levy tells me of his father being partial to the southerners +although he lived in Evansville, Indiana, and fought as a Yankee. He was +accused of being partial and they would turn over his wagons and cause +him trouble. He had fine wagons and sometimes when he would be turning +his wagons back up after them being turned over to contrary him, he +would curse Gen. Grant and call him that G.D. Old Tobacco spitter. +Although Henry Levy seldom did swear as he was French, sometimes they +would make him mad and he would do so. + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: F. H. Brown + 701 Hickory Street, North Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 75 + + +[HW: Builds Church and School] + +"I was born in Marion County, Mississippi. Columbus is the county-seat. +My father's name was Hazard Brown, and my mother's name was Willie +Brown. She was a Rankin before she married. My mother was born in +Lawrence County, Mississippi, and married father there. My father was +born in Tangipahoa Parish, Louisiana. I was born in three feet of the +line in Louisiana. I was born in the old slave quarters. The house was +just across the line between Mississippi and Louisiana. The lower room +was in Louisiana and the other was in Mississippi. There was a three +foot hall between the rooms. It was a matter of convenience that I was +born in Mississippi. I might have been just as well born in Louisiana. +The house was in both states. + +"My father's master was Black Bill Warren. Black Bill was just a title +they give him. I think that his name was Joe Warren, but they nicknamed +him Black Bill, and everybody called him that. My mother belonged to the +Rankinses. + +"My mother's mother was named Dolly Ware. My father's mother was named +Maria. Their papa's father was named Thomas, and I forget my mother's +father's name. I know it but I forget it just now. I haven't thought +over it for a long time. + +"My father when he died was eighty-five years old. He was treated pretty +good in slavery time. He did farm work. His mars had about ninety +slaves, that is, counting children and all. When I was a boy, I was in +those quarters and saw them. I went back there and though it was some +time afterward, taught in them. And later on, I preached in them, since +I have been a preacher, of course. I have a cousin there now. He is +about a hundred years old. He belongs to the Methodist Episcopal Church. + +"My father lived to see freedom. He has been dead more than twelve +years. He died at my home. + +"He was so close to the fighting that he could hear the guns and the +firing. When they was freed, some white people told him, 'You are just +as free as we are.' I was born after the Emancipation proclamation. The +proclamation was issued in September and I was born in October. It +didn't become effective till January first. So I was born a slave any +way you take it. + +"The farm my father worked on was on the Pearl River. It was very +fertile. It was in Mississippi. A very big road runs beside the farm. +The road is called the Big Road. The nigger quarters were across the +road on the south side. + +"My mother's folks treated her nicely too. Mr. Rankins didn't have any +slaves but Mrs. Rankins had some. Her people gave them to her. My +grandma who belonged to her had twenty-six children. She got her start +off of the slaves her parents gave her, and finally she had about +seventy-five. She ran a farm. My mother's work was house woman. She +worked in the house. Her mistress was good to her. The overseer couldn't +whip the niggers, except in her presence, so that she could see that it +wasn't brutal. She didn't allow the women to be whipped at all. When an +overseer got rough, she would fire him. Slaves would run away sometimes +and stay in the woods if they thought that they would get a whipping for +it. But she would send word for them to come on back and they wouldn't +be whipped. And she would keep her word about it. The slaves on her +place were treated so good that they were called free niggers by the +other white people. When they were whipped, they would go to the woods. + +"I have heard them speak of the pateroles often. They had to get a pass +and then the pateroles wouldn't bother them. They would whip you and +beat you if you didn't have a pass. Slavery was an awful low thing. It +was a bad system. You had to get a pass to go to see your wife. If you +didn't have that pass, they would whip you. The pateroles carried on +their work for a good while after slavery was over, and the Civil War +had ended. + +"I was pretty good when I was a boy. So I never had any trouble then. I +was right smart size when I saw the Ku Klux. They would whip men and +women that weren't married and were living together. On the first day of +January, they would whip men and boys that didn't have a job. They kept +the Negroes from voting. They would whip them. They put up notices, 'No +niggers to come out to the polls tomorrow.' They would run them off of +government land which they had homesteaded. Sometimes they would just +persuade them not to vote. A Negro like my father, they would say to +him, 'Now, Brown, you are too good to get messed up. Them other niggers +'round here ain't worth nothing, but you are, and we don't want to see +you get hurt. So you stay 'way from the polls tomorrow.' And tomorrow, +my father would stay away, under the circumstances. They had to depend +on the white people for counsel. They didn't know what to do themselves. +The other niggers they would threaten them and tell them if they came +out they would kill them. + +"Right after the war, we farmed on shares. When we made our last +share-crop, father farmed on Senator Bilbo's mother's farm on the State +line. I nursed Senator Bilbo when he was a baby. Theoda Bilbo. He is the +one who says Negroes should be sent to Africa. Then there wouldn't be +nobody here to raise people like him. He fell into the mill pond one day +and I pulled him out and kept him from drowning. If it weren't for that, +he wouldn't be here to say, 'Send all the Negroes to Africa.' If I'd see +him right now, he'd give me ten dollars. + +"Mrs. Bilbo's first husband was a Crane. He killed himself. He didn't +intend to. It was in a horse race. The horse ran away with him and +killed him. Then Theoda's father married her. He was a poor man. He +married that widow and got up in the world. They had a gin mill, and a +grist mill, and a sawmill. They got business from everybody. That was +Theoda's daddy--old man Bilbo. + +"In 1870, we stayed on Elisha McGhee's farm. We called him Elisha but +his name was Elijah. I began to remember them. The next year, we farmed +for old man William Bilbo. But we didn't get along so well there because +daddy wouldn't let anybody beat him out of anything that was his. That +was Theoda's gran'daddy. Then we went to (Mississippi) Miss Crane's. The +next year she married Theoda Bilbo's daddy and in 1874, my daddy moved +up on his own place at Hurricane Creek. There he built a church and +built a school, and I went to the school on our own place. He stayed +there till 1880. In 1880, we moved to Holly Springs. That was right +after the yellow fever epidemic. I went to school there at Shaw +University. I stayed in that school a good while. It's called Rust +College now. It's named after the Secretary of the Freedman's Aid +Society. Rust was the greatest donor and they named the school after +him. I went to the state school in my last year because they would give +you a lifetime certificate when you finished there. I mean a lifetime +teaching certificate for Mississippi. I finished the course and got the +certificate. There is the diploma up there on the wall. J.H. Henderson +was the principal and he was one of my teachers too. Henderson was a +wonderful man. You know he died out here in the county hospital sometime +ago. Sometime I'll tell you all about him. He was a remarkable man. He +taught there behind Highgate, a Northern man. I'll tell you all about +him sometime. + +"I farmed with my father in the early part of my life. When I went to +Holly Springs in 1881, I worked for Dr. T.J. Malone, a banker there, and +a big farmer--President of the Holly Springs Bank. I worked for him +mornings and evenings and slept at home of nights. I would work in +vacation times too at whatever I could find to do till I got about able +to teach. When I first commenced to teach, I taught in several +counties--Lincoln, Simpson, Pike, Marion (the place I went to school), +and Copiah. I built the school at Lawrence County. I organized the +Folsom High School there. It was named after President Cleveland's wife. +I taught there nine years. I married there. My wife's name was Narcissa +Davis. She was a teacher and graduated from the same school I did. She +lived in Calhoun County. She died in 1896, in Conway. + +"I taught school at Conway in Faulkner County, and joined the ministry +as a local preacher, in 1896. I moved from there to White County and +taught in Searcy one term. Taught at Beebe ten years. Married again in +1898--Annie Day. I taught at Beebe and lived in White County. Then I +bought me a home at Higginson, and went into the ministry solely. I left +Higginson and taught and pastored seven years at Des Arc. I know +practically everybody in Des Arc. I was thinking today about writing +Brick Williams. He is the son of old man Williams, the one you know I +think. Then I come to what is called Sixteen Section three miles from +Galloway and taught there seven years and pastored. I presided too as +Elder some of those years--North Little Rock District. Then I went back +and pastored there and taught at West Point, Arkansas four years. Then I +pastored at Prescott and was on the Magnolia District as Presiding Elder +two years. Then I presided over the North Little Rock District again. +Pastored St. Luke Circuit in southwest part of Arkansas below +Washington. Then I built a church at Jonesboro. I pastored twenty-nine +years altogether, built five churches, and have been responsible for +five hundred conversions. + +"I think the prospects of the country and the race are good. I don't see +much dark days ahead. It is just a new era. You are doing something +right now I never saw done before in my life. Even when they had the +census, I didn't see any colored people taking it. + +"I don't get any assistance in the form of money from the government. I +have been trying to get it but I can't. Looks like they cut off a lot of +them and can't reach it. Won't let me teach school. Say I am too old for +WPA teaching. Superannuate me in the church, and say I'm too old to +preach, and still I haven't gotten anything from my church since last +January. I get some commodities from the state. I belong to the C.M.E. +Church. I have lived in this community twenty-five years." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +Hanging on the wall was the old man's diploma from the Mississippi State +Normal School for colored persons. It was dated May 30, 1888, and it +bore the signatures of J.R. Preston, State Superintendent; E.D. Miller, +County Superintendent (both members of the Board of Directors); J.H. +Henderson, Principal; Narcissa Hill and Maria Rabb, faculty members. + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: George Brown + Route 4; Box 159, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 84 + + +"Yes'm, I was born in slavery times. I was born in 1854. How old does +that leave me? + +"No ma'am, I wasn't born in Arkansas, born in Alabama. + +"Jim Hart was my white folks. Good to me? I'd rather let that alone. +Plenty to eat? I'll have to let that alone too. I used to say my old +missis was 'Hell a mile.' Her name was Sarah. She was a Williams but she +married Jim Hart. They had about a hundred and seventy head, little and +big together. + +"Me? I was a servant at the house. I didn't do any field work till after +surrender. + +"Some women was pretty mean and old miss was one of 'em. + +"You'll get the truth now--I ain't told you half. + +"We lived in Marengo County. The Tombigbee River divided it and Sumter +County. The War didn't get down that far. It just got as far as Mobile. + +"Oh yes'm, I knowed they was a war gwine on. I'd be waitin' on the table +and I'd hear the white folks talkin'. I couldn't keep all I heard. + +"I know I heard 'em say General Grant went up in a balloon and counted +all the horses and mules they had in Vicksburg. + +"I seen them gunboats gwine down the Tombigbee River. And I seen a +string of cotton bales as long as from here to there floatin' down the +river to Mobile. I reckon they was gettin' it away from the Yankees. You +see we was a hundred and fifty miles north of Mobile. + +"I wish you'd a caught me with my mind runnin' that way. I could open +your eyes. + +"They had a overseer named Sothern. One Sunday my mammy slipped off and +went to church. Some of 'em told Sothern and he told Miss Sarah. And she +had mammy called out and they had a strop 'bout as wide as any hand and +had holes in it, and they started whippin' her. I was runnin' around +there with my shirt tail full of bricks and I was chunkin' 'em at that +overseer. He would a caught me and whipped me too but Tom Kelly--that +was old miss' son-in-law--said, 'A calf loves the cow,' so he wouldn't +let old miss whip me. + +"I come away from Alabama in '75. I lived in Tallulah, Louisiana eight +years and the rest of the time I been here in Arkansas. + +"I've farmed most of the time. I owned one farm, forty-nine acres, but +my boy got into trouble and I had to sell it. + +"Then I've been a engineer in sawmills and at gins. I used to be a round +man--I could work any place. + +"Me? Vote? No, I never did believe in votin'. I couldn't see no sense in +it. They was mobbin' and killin' too much for George Brown. I was a +preacher--Baptist. I was a ordained preacher. I could marry 'em. Oh +Lord, I ain't preached in a long time. I got so I couldn't stand on my +feet. + +"I been in the Church of God sixty-one years. Never been in any lawsuit +or anything like that in my life. I always tried to keep out of +trouble. + +"I 'member one time I come nearest to gettin' drowned in the Tombigbee +River. We boys was in washin' and we got to divin' and I div where it +was too deep. When I come up, look like a world of water. A boy in a +skiff come and broke right to me. I reckon I was unconscious, I didn't +know what. But them boys wasn't unconscious. + +"I think the younger generation is mighty bad. There's some exceptions +but the general run is bad. I've seen the time you could go to a white +man and he would help you but these young white folks, they turn from +you." + + + + +Interviewer: Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: J.N. Brown + 3500 West 7th Ave. + Pine Bluff, Ark. +Age: 79 +Occupation: Sells peanuts from wagon + + +"Yes'm, I was livin' in slavery times--musta been--I was born in 1858, +near Natchez, Mississippi--in town. + +"Old Daniel Virdin was my first master. I can halfway remember him. Oh +Lord, I remember that shootin'. Used to clap my hands--called it +foolishness. We kids didn't know no better. + +"I was in Camden, Arkansas when we was freed. Colored folks in them days +was sold and run. My father was in Camden when we got free--he was sold. +My mother was sold too. + +"I heared em say they had a good master and mistis. Man what bought em +was named Brown. They runned us to Texas durin' the war and then come +back here to Camden. + +"I never went to school. I was the oldest chile my father had out a +sixteen and I had to work. We had a kinda hard time. I stayed in Camden +till I was eighteen and then I runned off from my folks and went to +Texas. Times was so tight in Arkansas, and a cattleman come there and +said they'd give me twenty-five dollars a month in Texas. I thought that +would beat just something to eat. I been workin' for the white folks and +just gettin' a little grub and not makin' any money. + +"In Texas I worked for some good white folks. John Worth Bennet was the +man who owned the ranch. I stayed there seven years and saved my money. +I was just nacherly a good nigger. That was in Hopkins County, Texas. + +"I've got a good memory. That's all I got to study bout is how to take +care of the situation. I was livin' there in that country in 1882, fore +the Spanish-American War. + +"I come back here to Arkansas in 1900. My father was named Nelson Brown. +He preached. My mother's name was Sally Brown. + +"Long in that time we tried to vote but we didn't know 'zactly what we +was doin. I think I voted once or twice, but if a man can't read or +write and have to have somebody make out his ticket, he don't know what +he's votin', so I just quit tryin' to vote. + +"Now about this younger generation, you've asked me a question it's hard +for me to answer. With all these nineteenth century niggers, the more +education they got, the bigger crooks they is. + +"We colored people are livin' under the law, but we don't make no laws. +You take a one-armed man and he can't do what a two-armed man can. The +colored man in the south is a one-armed man, but of course the colored +man can't get along without the white folks. But I've lived in this +world long enough to know what the cause is--I know why the colored man +is a one-armed man." + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Lewis Brown + 708 Oak Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 83 + + +"Yes'm my name is Brown--Lewis Brown. Yes'm I lived durin' slavery +times. I was born in 1854. + +"I been workin' this mornin'. I been diggin' up the ground to bed up +some onions. No I don't work every day. Sometimes I feel ailin'--don't +feel like doin' nothin'. + +"I wasn't big enough to 'member 'bout the war. All I 'member is seein' +the soldiers retirin' from the war. They come by my old master's +plantation. The Yankees was in front--they was the horsebackers. Then +come the wagons and then the southern soldiers comin' along in droves. + +"I was born in Arkansas. My mother and father belonged to Dr. Jordan. He +was the biggest slaveholder in Arkansas. He was called the 'Nigger +Ruler'. If the overseer couldn't make a slave behave, the old doctor +went out with a gun and shot him. When the slaves on other plantations +couldn't be ruled, they was sold to Dr. Jordan and he ruled 'em or +killed 'em. + +"I don't 'member much else 'bout my old master but I 'member my old +mistress. The last crop she made before freedom, she had two plantations +with overseers on 'em and on one plantation they didn't 'low no kind a +slave 'cept South Carlinans. But on the other plantation the slaves come +from different places. + +"After the war we went to Texas and I 'member my old mistress come down +there to get her old colored folks to come back to Arkansas. Lots of 'em +went back with her. She called herself givin' 'em a home. I don't know +what she paid--I never heard a breath of that but she hoped 'em to get +back. I didn't go--I stayed in Texas and growed up and married there and +then come back to Arkansas in 1882. + +"Oh yes'm--the Ku Klux was plentiful after peace. They went about +robbin' people. + +"Some of the colored folks thought they was better off when they was +slaves. They was the ones that had good masters. Some of the masters +didn't 'low the overseers to 'buke the slaves and some wouldn't have +overseers. + +"I never did vote for no President, just for home officers. I don't know +what to say 'bout not letting the colored folks vote now. They have to +pay taxes and 'spenses and I think they ought to have something to say +'bout things. + +"'How did you lose your arm?' It was shot off. I got into a argument +with a fellow what owed me twenty-four dollars. He decided to pay me off +that way. That was when I was 'bout seventy. He's dead now. + +"I think the people is more wickeder now. The devil got more chances +than he used to have and the people can't do right if they want to." + + + +Name of interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Subject: Humorous Tales of Slavery Days + + +"I was born in 1854 and 'co'se I wasn't big enough to work much in +slavery times, but one thing I did do and that was to tote watermelons +for the overseer and pile 'em on the porch. + +"I 'member he said if we dropped one and broke it, we'd have to stop +right there and eat the whole thing. I know I broke one on purpose so I +could eat it and I 'member he made me scrape the rind and drink the +juice. I know I eat till I was tired of that watermelon. + +"And then there was a lake old master told us to stay out of. If he +caught you in it, he'd take you by the shirt collar and your heels and +throw you back in. + +"I know he nearly drowned me once." + +This information given by: Lewis Brown +Place of residence: 808 W. Eighth, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Occupation: Retired minister +Age: 84 + + +Name of interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Subject: Child Rearing Customs of Early Days + + +"In them days, folks raised one another's chillun. If a child was at +your house and misbehaved, you whipped him and sent him home and his +mother give him another whippin'. + +"And you better _not 'spute_ your parents!" + +This information given by: Lewis Brown +Place of residence: 802 W. Eighth. Pine Bluff. Arkansas +Occupation: None, retired minister +Age: 84 + + + +Circumstances of Interview + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor + +ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas + +DATE--December, 1938 + +SUBJECT--Ex-slave + +1. Name and address of informant--Lewis Brown, 2100 Pulaski Street, +Little Rock + +2. Date and time of interview-- + +3. Place of interview--2100 Pulaski Street, Little Hock, Arkansas + +4. Name and address of person, if any, who put you in touch with +informant-- + +5. Name and address of person, if any, accompanying you-- + +6. Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.-- + + +Personal History of Informant + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor + +ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas + +DATE-December, 1938 + +SUBJECT-Ex-slave + +NAME AND ADDRESS OF INFORMANT--Lewis Brown, 2100 Pulaski Street, Little +Rock. + +1. Ancestry--father, Lewis Bronson; mother, Millie Bronson. + +2. Place and date of birth--Born April 14, 1855 in Kemper County, +Mississippi. + +3. Family--Five children. + +4. Places lived in, with dates--Lived in Mississippi until the eighties, +then moved to Helena, Arkansas. Moved from Helena to Little Rock. + +5. Education, with dates-- + +6. Occupations and accomplishments, with dates--Farming. + +7. Special skills and interests-- + +8. Community and religious activities--Belongs to Baptist Church. + +9. Description of informant-- + +10. Other points gained in interview--Facts concerning child life, +status of colored girls, patrollers, marriage and sex relationships, +churches and amusements. + + +Text of Interview (Unedited) + +STATE--Arkansas + +NAME OF WORKER--Samuel S. Taylor + +ADDRESS--Little Rock, Arkansas + +DATE--December, 1938 + +SUBJECT--Ex-slave + +NAME AND ADDRESS OF INFORMANT--Lewis Brown, 2100 Pulaski Street, Little +Rock. + + +"I was born in 1855, April 14, in Kemper County, Mississippi, close to +Meridian. I drove gin wagons in the time of the war in a horse-power +gin. I carried matches and candles down to weigh cotton with in slavery +times. + +"They had to pick cotton till dark. They had to tote their weight +hundred pounds, two pounds, whatever it was down to the weighing place +and they had to weigh it. Whatever you lacked of having your weight, you +would get a lick for. On down till they called us out for the war, that +was the way it was. They were goin' to give my brother fifty lashes but +they come and took him to the army, and they didn't git to whip him. + +"My father was Lewis Bronson. He come from South Carolina. My mother was +stole. The speculators stole her and they brought her to Kemper County, +Mississippi, and sold her. My mother's name was Millie. My father's +owner was Elijah McCoy. Old Elijah McCoy was the owner, but they didn't +take his name. They went back to the old standard mark after the +surrender. They went back to the people where they come from, and they +changed their names--they changed off of them old names. McCoys was my +masters, but my father went back to the name of the people way back over +in there in South Carolina, where he come from. I don't know nothin' +bout them. He was the father of nine children. He had two wives. One of +them he had nine by, and the other one he had none by. So he went back +to the one he had the nine children by. + + +Early Life + +"I was ten years old when war was ended. I had to carry matches and +candles to the cotton pickers. It would be too dark for them to weigh +up. They couldn't see. They had tasks and they would be picking till +late to git their tasks done. Matches and candles come from the big +house, and I had to bring it down to them. That was two years before the +war. + +"I wasn't big enough to do nothing else, only drive to the gin. I drove +horse-power to the gin.--drove mules to the gin. I would drive the cows +out to the pasture too. The milk women would milk them. Lawd, I could +not do no milking. I was too small. The milk women would milk them and I +would drive the cows one way and the calves another so that they +couldn't mix. And at night I would go git them and they would milk them +again. The milk women milked them. What would I know bout milkin. + +"I never did any playin', 'cept plain marbles and goin' in swimmin'. + + +Schooling + +"The white girls and boys learned us our A-B-C's after the war. They had +a free school in Kemper County there. My children I learnt them myself +or had it done. You couldn't hardly ever find one in Kemper Country that +could spell and go on. They didn't have no time for that. Some few of +them learned their A-B-C's before the war. But that is all. They learned +what they learned after the war in the free government schools mostly. +They would not do nothin' to you if they caught you learnin' in slave +time. Sometimes the white children would teach you your A-B-C's. + + +Status of Colored Girls + +"They had mighty mean ways in that country. They would catch young +colored girls and whip them and make them do what they wanted. There +wasn't but one mean one on our place. He was ordered to go to war and he +didn't; so they pressed him. He was the one that promised my brother a +whipping. He left like this morning and come back a week from today +dead. The rest of them was pretty good. The mean one was Elijah. + + +Master's Sons + +"Old man McCoy had four sons; Elijah, that was the mean one, Redder, +Nelson, Clay. + + +Patrollers + +"Sometimes the pateroles would do the devil with you if they caught you +out without a pass. You could go anywhere you pleased if you had a pass. +But if you didn't have a pass, they'd give you the devil. + + +Marriage and Sex Relationships + +"You could have one wife over here and another one over there if you +wanted to. My daddy had two women. And he quit the one that didn't have +no children. People weren't no more 'n dogs them days,--weren't as much +as dogs. + + +Mother and Father's Work + +"In slavery time, my father worked at the field. Plowed and hoed and +made cotton and corn--what else was he goin' to do. My mother was a +cook. + + +Sustenance + +"My master fed us and clothed us and give us something to eat. Some of +them was hell a mile. Some of them was all kinds of ways. Our people was +good. One of them was mean. + + +Father's Brother + +"My father's brother belonged to Elijah. I had an auntie over in there +too. I don't know what become of them all. They were all in Kemper +county, Mississippi. + + +Churches + +"The white people had churches in slavery times just like they have now. +The white people would have service one a month. But like these street +cars. White people would be at the front and colored would fill up back. +They'll quit that after a while. Sometimes they would have church in the +morning for the white folks and church in the evening for the colored. +They would baptize you just like they would anybody else. + +"I'll tell you what was done in slave time. They'd sing and pray. The +white folks would take you to the creek and baptize you like anybody +else. + +"Sometimes the slaves would be off and have prayer meetings of their +own--nothing but colored people there. They soon got out uh that. + +"Sometimes they would turn a tub or pot down. That would be when they +were making a lot of fuss and didn't want to bother nobody. The white +people wouldn't be against the meeting. But they wouldn't want to be +disturbed. If you wanted to sing at night and didn't want nobody to hear +it, you could just take an old wash pot and turn it down--leave a little +space for the air, and nobody could hear it. + + +Amusement + +"The grown folks didn't have much amusement in slavery times. They had +banjo, fiddle, melodian, and things like that. There wasn't no baseball +in those days. I never seed none. They could dance all they wanted to +their way. They danced the dotillions and the waltzes and breakdown +steps, all such as that. Pick banjo! U-umph! They would give corn +huskins; they would go and shuck corn and shuck so much. Get through +shucking, they would give you dinner. Sometimes big rich white people +would give dances out in the yard and look at their way of dancing, and +doing. Violin players would be colored. + +"Have cotton picking too sometimes at night, moonshiney nights. That's +when they'd give the cotton pickings. Say you didn't have many hands, +then they'd go and send you one hand from this place and one from that +place. And so on. Your friends would do all that for you. Between 'em +they'd git up a big bunch of hands. Then they'd give the cotton picking, +and git your field clared up. They'd give you something to eat and +whiskey to drink. + + +How Freedom Came + +"Notice was given to my father that he was free. White people in that +country give it to him. I don't know what they said to my father. Then +the last gun was fired. I don't know where peace was declared. Notice +come how that everybody was free. Told my daddy, 'You're just as free as +I am.' Some went back to their daddy's name. Some went back to their +master's name. My daddy went back to his old master's name. + + +Right after the War + +"First year after the war, they planted a crop. Didn't raise no cotton +during the war, from the time the war started till it ended, they didn't +raise no cotton. + +"After the war, they give the colored people corn and cotton, one-third +and one-fourth. They would haul a load of it up during the war I mean, +during the time before the war, and give it to the colored people. + +"They had two crops. No cotton in the time of the war, nothing but corn +and peas and potatoes and so on. All that went to the white people. But +they divided it. They give all so much round. Had a bin for the white +and a bin for the colored. The next year they commenced with the third +and fourth business--third of the cotton and fourth of the corn. You +could have all the peanuts you wanted. You could sell your corn but they +would only give you fifty cents for it--fifty cents a bushel. + +"My father farmed and sharecropped for a while after the war. He changed +from his master's place the second year and went on another place. He +farmed all his life. He raised all his children and got wore out and +pore. He died in Kemper County, Mississippi. All his children and +everything was raised there. + + +Life Since the War + +"I came to Arkansas in the eighties. Come to Helena. I did carpenter and +farm work in Helena. I made three crops, one for Phil Maddox, two with +Miss Hobbs. I come from Helena here. + +"I married in Mississippi in Roland Forks, sixty miles this side of +Vicksburg. I had two boys and three girls. Two girls died in Helena. One +died in Roland Forks before I come to Helena. Nary one of the boys +didn't die. + +"I don't do no work now. This rheumatism's got me down. I call that age. +If I could work, I couldn't git nothing worth while. These niggers here +won't pay you nothing they promise you. My boy's got me to feed as long +as I live now. I did a batch of work for the colored people round here +in the spring of the year and I ain't got no money for it yit. + +"I belong to the Mount Zion Baptist Church; I reckon I do. I got down +sick so I couldn't go and I don't know whether they turned me OUT OR NO. +I tell you, people don't care nothin about you when you get old or +stricken down. They pretend they do, but they don't. My mind is good and +I got just as much ambition as I ever had. But I don't have the +strength. + +"I haven't got but a few more days to lag round in this world. When you +get old and stricken, nobody cares, children nor nobody else." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Bailie C. Miller +Person interviewed: Mag Brown, Clarksville, Arkansas +Age: 85 + + +"I was born in North Carolina and come South with my white folks. They +was trying to git out of the war and run right into it. My mother died +when I was a baby. I don't remember my mother no more than you do. I +left my white folks. When I was 14 years old, we lived out in the +country. They was willing to keep me but after the war they was so poor. +The girls told me if I could come to town and find work I had better do +it. Two of them come nearly to town with me. They told me I was free to +come to town and live with the colored folks. I didn't know what it +meant to be free. I was just as free as I wanted to be with my white +folks. When I got to town I stayed with your aunt awhile then she sent +me down to stay with your grandma. A white girl who lived with them, +like one of the family, learned me how to cook and iron. I knew how to +wash. + +"I don't know anything about the present generation. I ain't been able +to git out for the last year or two. I think I broke my foot, for I had +to go on crutches a long time. + +"The white folks always sung but I don't know what they sung. I didn't +pay no tention to it then." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Mary Brown, Clarendon, Arkansas +Age: Born in 1860 + + +"Mama was born in slavery but never sold. Grandma and her husband was +sold and brung eleven children to Crystal Springs. They was sold to Mr. +Munkilwell. I was born there. Grandma was born in Virginia. Her back was +cut all to pieces where she had been beat by her master. Both of them +was whooped. He was a hostler and blacksmith. + +"When grandma was a young woman she didn't have no children, so her +master thought sure she was barren. He sold her to Taylors. Here come +'long eleven children. Taylor sold them. After freedom she had another. +He was her onliest boy. That was so funny to hear her tell it. I never +could forgit it long as I ever know a thing. Grandma's baby child was +seventy-four years old, 'cepting that boy what was a stole child. She +died not long ago at Carpendale, Mississippi. I got the letter two weeks +ago. But she had been dead a while 'fore they writ to me. Her name was +Aunt Miny. She didn't have no children. + +"Grandma said the first time she was sold--the first day of July--they +put her in a trader yard in Virginia. She was crying and says, 'Take me +back to my mama.' An old woman said, 'You are up to be sold.' + +"Aunt Helen, her sister, was taking her husband something in the field. +They fooled her away from her five little children. Grandma said she +never was seen no more. She was much older than grandma. Grandma stayed +with her slavery husband till he died. + +"Since freedom some people tried to steal my mama. She was a fast runner +and could dance. They wanted to make money out of her. They would bet on +her races. At Lernet School they took about thirty-six children off in +wagons. Never could get trace of them. Never seen nor heard of a one of +them again. That was in this state at Lernet School years ago but since +freedom. + +"I was born during the War soon after Master Munkilwell took mama over. +He didn't ever buy her. Mama died young but grandma lived to be over a +hundred years old. She told me all I know about real olden times. + +"I just looks on in 'mazement at this young generation. They is happy +all right. Times not hard for them glib and well as they seems. Times +have changed a sight since I was born in this world and still changing. +Sometimes it seems like they are all right. Ag'in times is tough on old +folks like me. This is all in the Bible--about the times and folks +changing." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Mattie Brown. Helena. Arkansas +Age: 75 + + +"I heard mother say time and ag'in I was a year and two months old the +year of the surrender. I was born in Montgomery, Alabama. Mother was a +milker and a house woman. Father died when I was a baby. Mother never +married. There was three of us to raise. I'm the youngest. + +"Sister was the regular little nurse girl for mother's mistress. I don't +recollect her name. The baby was sickly and fretful. My sister set and +rocked that baby all night long in a homemade cradle. Mother said she'd +nod and go on. Mother thought she was too young to have to do that way. +Mother stole her away the first year of the Civil War and let her go +with some acquaintances of hers. They was colored folks. Mother said she +had good owners. They was so good it didn't seem like slavery. The +plantation belong to the woman. He was a preacher. He rode a circuit and +was gone. They had a colored overseer or foreman like. She wanted a +overseer just to be said she had one but he never agreed to it. He was a +good man. + +"Mother said over in sight on a joining farm the overseers whooped +somebody every day and more than that sometimes. She said some of the +white men overseers was cruel. + +"Mother quilted for people and washed and ironed to raise us. After +freedom mother sent for my sister. I don't recollect this but mother +said when she heard of freedom she took me in her arms and left. The +first I can recollect she was cooking for soldiers at the camps at +Montgomery, Alabama. They had several cooks. We lived in our own house +and mother washed and ironed for them some too. They paid her well for +her work. + +"I recollect some of the good eating. We had big white rice and big soda +crackers and the best meat I ever et. It was pickled pork. It was +preserved in brine and shipped to the soldiers in hogheads (barrels). We +lived there till mother died and I can recollect that much. When mother +died we had a hard time. I look back now and don't see how we made it +through. We washed and ironed mostly and had a mighty little bit to eat +and nearly nothing to wear. It was hard times for us three children. I +was the baby child. My brother hired out when he could. We stuck +together till we all married off." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person Interviewed: Molly Brown +Age: 90 or over Brinkley, Ark. + + +One morning early I (Irene Robertson) got off the bus and started up +Main Street. I hadn't gone far before I noticed a small form of a woman. +She wore men's heavy shoes, an old dark dress and a large fringed woolen +shawl; the fringe was well gone and the shawl, once black, was now brown +with age. I passed her and looked back into her face. I saw she was a +Negro, dark brown. Her face was small with unusually nice features for a +woman of her race. She carried a slick, knotted, heavy walking stick--a +very nice-looking one. On the other arm was a rectangular split basket +with wires run through for a handle and wrapped with a dirty white rag +to keep the wire from cutting into her hand or arm. + +I stopped and said, "Auntie, could you direct me to Molly Brown's +house?" + +"I'm her," she replied. + +"Well, I want to go home with you." + +"What you want to go out there for?" + +"I want you to tell me about times when you were a girl," I said. + +"I'm not going home yet. I got to get somethin' for dinner." + +"Well, you go ahead and I'll follow along." + +"Very well," she said. + +I window shopped outside, and I noticed she had a box of candy, but it +was a 25¢ box and had been opened, so I thought it may be nearly +anything just put in the box. The next store she went into was a +nice-looking meat market and grocery combined, I followed in behind her. +A nice-looking middle-aged man gave her a bundle that was large enough +to hold a 50¢ meat roast. It was neatly tied, and the wrapping paper was +white, I observed. She thanked him. She turned to me and said, "Give me +a nickel." + +I said, "I don't have one." Then I said teasingly, "Why you think I have +a nickel?" + +She said, "You look like it." + +I opened my purse and gave her a dime. She went over to the bread and +picked up a loaf or two, feeling it. The same man said, "Let that +alone." + +The old woman slowly went on out. I was amazed at his scolding. Then he +said to me, "She begs up and down this street every day, cold or hot, +rain or shine, and I have to watch her from the time she enters that +door till she leaves. I give her scrap meat," he added. + +"How old is she?" + +"She was about fifty years old sixty years ago when she came to +Brinkley. She is close to a hundred years. People say she has been here +since soon after the town started." He remarked, "She won't spend that +dime you gave her." + +"Well, I will go tell her what to buy with it," I replied. + +I hurried out lest I loose her. She had gained time on me and was +crossing the Cotton Belt Ry. tracks. I caught up with her before she +went into a small country grocery store on #70 highway. She had passed +several Negro stores, restaurants, etc, "I want a nickel's worth of +meal, please, sir." + +I said, "Auntie, buy a dime's worth of meal." + +"I don't want but a nickel's worth." The man handed it to her to put in +the basket. "Give me a piece candy." The merchant gave her a nice hard +stick. She broke it half in to and offered me a piece. + +I said, "No, thank you, Auntie." She really wanted me to have it, but I +refused it. + +She blowed her nose on her soiled old white underskirt. She wormed and +went on out. + +I asked the merchant "How old is she?" + +"Bless her heart, I expect she is ninety years old or more. I give her +some hard candy every time she comes in here. I give her a lot of +things. She spends her money with me." + +Then I asked if she drew an Old Age Pension. + +He said, "I think she does, but that is about 30¢ and it runs out before +she gets another one. She begs a great deal." + +I lagged behind. The way she made her way across the Broadway of America +made me scringe. I crossed and caught up with her as she turned off to a +path between a garage and blacksmith shop. + +I said, "Auntie, let me take your basket." She refused me. I said, "May +I carry your meal or your meat?" + +"I don't know you." she said shortly. + +A jolly man at the side of the garage heard me. I said, "I'm all right, +am I not" to the man. + +He said, "Aunt Molly, let her help you home. She is all right. I'm +sure." + +I followed the path ahead of her. When we turned off across a grassy +mesa the old woman said, "Here," and handed over her basket. I carried +it. When we got to her house across a section of hay land at least a +mile from town, she said, "Push that door open and go to the fire." + +An old Negro man, not her husband and no relation, got a very +respectable rocking chair for me. He had a good fire in the fireplace. +The old woman sat on a tall footstool. She was so cold. + +She said, "Bring me some water, please." + +A young yellow boy stepped out and gave her a cup of water. She drank it +all. She put the meat bones and scrap meat on the coals in an iron pot +in some water. She had the boy scald the meal, sprinkle salt in it and +add a little cold water to it. He put it in an iron pan and put a heavy +iron lid over it. The kettle was iron. The boy set it aside and put the +bread on hot embers. She sat down and said, "I'm hungry." + +I said, "Auntie, what have you in that box?" + +She reached to her basket, untied some coins from the corner of the +soiled rag--three pennies and a nickel. She untied her ragged hose--she +wore two pairs--tied above the knee with a string, and slipped the money +to the foot and in her heavy shoes. It looked safe. Then the old Negro +man came in with an armfull of scrub wood and placed it by the fireplace +on the floor. + +He said, "The Government sent me here to live and take care of Aunt +Molly. She been sick. I build her fires, and me and that boy wait on +her." + +I asked, "Is the boy kin". + +He said, "No'm, she's all alone." + +He went away and the boy went away. The old woman called them and +offered them candy. She had twelve hard pieces of whitish, stale +chocolate candy in the box. The boy refused and went away, but the old +man took three pieces. I observed it well, when she passed it to me, for +worms. I refused it. It seemed free from bugs though. She ate greedily +and the old man went away. + +We were alone and she was warm. She talked freely till the old Negro man +returned at one o'clock for dinner. Notwithstanding the fact the meal +hadn't been sifted and the meat not washed, it looked so brown and nice +in two pones and the meat smelled so good I left hurriedly before I +weakened, for I was getting hungry from the aroma. + +"I was born at Edgefield County, South Carolina, and lived there till +after I married." + +"Did you have a wedding?" + +"I sure did." + +"Tell me about it." + +"I married at home, at night, had a supper, had a nice dance." + +"You did?" + +"I did." + +"Did a colored man marry you?" + +"Colored preacher--Jim Woods." + +"Did he say the ceremony?" + +"He read it out of a little book." + +"Did you have a nice supper?" + +"Course I did! White folks helped fix my weddin' supper. Had turkey, +chickens, baked shoat, pies and cake--a table piled up full. Mama helped +cook it. It was all cooked on fireplace. + +"How were you dressed?" + +"Dressed like folks dressed to marry." + +"How was that?" + +"I wore three or four starched underskirts trimmed in ruffles and a +white dress over em. I wore a long lacy vail of net." + +"Did you go away?" + +"I lived close to my ma and always lived close bout her. I was called a +first class lady then." + +"You were." + +"My parents name Tempy Harris and Albert Harris. She was a cook. He was +a farmer. They had five children. The reason I come to Arkansas was +cause brother Albert and Caroline come here and kept writin' for us to +come. My folks belong to the Harrises. I don't know nothin' bout +em--been too long--and I never fooled round their houses. Some my folks +belong to the Joneses. They kinfolks of the Harrises. + +"No, I never saw no one sold nor hung neither. + +"Remember grandpa. His daddy was a white man. His wife was a black +woman. Mama was a brown woman like I is. + +"I ain't had narry child. My mother died here in this house. Way me an +my husband paid for the house, he farmed for Jim Black and Mr. Gunn. I +cooked for Jim Woodfin. Then I run a roomin' house till four years ago. +Four years ago I went to South Carolina to see my auntie. Her name +Julia. They all had more 'n I had. She'd dead now. All of em dead bout +it. She was a light woman--Julia. Her pa was a white man; her ma a light +woman. Julia considered wealthy. + +"I don't know nothin' bout freedom. I seen the soldiers. I seen both +kinds. The white folks was good to us. We stayed on. Then we went to +Albany, Georgia. We lived there a long time--lived in Florida a long +time, then come here. + +"The Joneses and Harrises had two or three families all I know. They +didn't have no big sight of land. They was good to us. I picked up +chips, put em in the boxes. Picked em up in my dress, course; I fetched +up water. We had rocked wells and springs, too. We lived with man named +Holman in Georgia. We farmed. I used to be called a smart woman, till I +done got not able. My grandpa was a white man; mama's pa. + +"What I been doin' from 1864-1937? What ain't I done! Farmin', I told +you. Buildin' fences was common. Feedin' hogs, milkin' cows, churnin'. +We raised hogs and cows and kept somethin' to eat at home. I knit sox. I +spin. I never weaved. Folks wore clothes then. They don't wear none now. +Pieced quilts. Could I sew? Course I did! Got a machine there now. +(pointed to an old one.) + +"I never seen no Ku Klux. I hid if they was about. I sure did hear bout +em. They didn't never come on our place. + +"I told you I never knowed when freedom come on. + +"I went to school in South Carolina. I went a little four or five years. +I could read, spell, cipher on a slate. Course I learned to write. +Course I got whoopins; got a heap o' whoopins. People tended to childern +then. What kind books did we have? I read and spelled out of the Blue +Back Speller. We had numbers on our slates. The teacher set us copies. +We wrote with soapstone. Some teachers white and some colored. + +"Well, course I got a Bible. (disgusted at the question). I go to church +and preachin' every Sunday. Yes. ma'am, now. + +"I don't study votin'. I don't vote. (disgusted). I reckon my husband +and pa did vote. I ain't voted. + +"Course I go to town. I go to keep from gettin' hungry. + +"Me and this old man get demodities and I get some money. + +"I told you I don't bother young folks business. I thought I told you I +don't. If I young I could raise somethin' at home that the reason I go +hungry. I give down. I know I do get hungry. + +"One thing I didn't tell you. I made tallow candles when I was a young +woman. + +"I don't know nothin' bout that Civil War." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Peter Brown. Helena, Arkansas +Age: 86 + + +"I was born on the Woodlawn place. It was owned by David and Ann Hunt. I +was born a slave boy. Master Hunt had two sons and one girl. Bigy and +Dunbar was the boys' names. Annie was the girl's name. + +"My parents' names was Jane and William Brown. Papa said he was a little +shirt tail boy when the stars fell. Grandma Sofa and Grandpa Peter Bane +lived on the same place. I'm named after him. My papa come from +Tennessee to Mississippi. I never heard ma say where she come from. + +"My remembrance of slavery is not at tall favorable. I heard the master +and overseers whooping the slaves b'fore day. They had stakes fixed in +the ground and tied them down on their stomachs stretched out and they +beat them with a bull whoop (cowhide woven). They would break the +blisters on them with white oak paddles that had holes in it so it would +suck. They be saying, 'Oh pray, master.' He'd say, 'Better pray fer +yourself.' I heard that going on when I was a child morning after +morning. I wasn't big enough to go to the field. I didn't have a hard +time then. Ma had to work when she wasn't able. Pa stole her out and one +night a small panther smelled them and come on a log up over where they +slept in a canebrake. Pa killed it with a bowie knife. Ma had a baby out +there in the canebrake. Pa had stole her out. They went back and they +never made her work no more. She was a fast breeder; she had three sets +of twins. They told him if he would stay out of the woods they wouldn't +make her work no more, take care of her children. They prized fast +breeders. They would come to see her and bring her things then. She had +ten children, three pairs of twins. Jonas and Sofa, Peter and Alice, +Isaac and Jacob. + +"When I was fifteen years old, mother said, 'Peter, you are fifteen +years old today; you was born March 1, 1852.' She told me that two or +three times and I kept up wid it. I am glad I did; she died right after +that. + +"Ma and pa et dinner, well as could be. Took cholera, was dead at twelve +o'clock that night. It was on Monday. Ike and Jake took it. They got +over it. I waited on the little things. One of them said, 'Peter, I'm +hungry.' I broiled some meat, made a ash cake and put the meat in where +I split the ash cake. He et it and went to sleep. He started mending. +Sister come and got the children and took them to Lake Providence. I +fell in the hands then of some cruel people. They had a doctor named Dr. +Coleman come to see ma and pa. He said, 'Don't eat no fruit, no +vegetables.' He said, 'Eat meat and bread.' I et green plums and peaches +like a boy fifteen years old then would do. I never did have cholera. A +boy fifteen years old didn't know as much as boys do now that age. The +master died b'fore the cholera disease come on. We had moved from the +hill place to a place in the bottoms. It was on the same place. None of +his family hod cholera but neighbors had it. We buried ma and pa on the +neighbor's place. We had kin folks on the Harris place. While we was at +the graveyard word come to dig two or three more graves. + +"Master's house was set on fire, the smokehouse emptied, the gin burned +and the cotton. The mules was drove out of the lot. That turned me +ag'in' the Yankees. We helped raise that meat they stole. They left us +to starve and fed their fat selves on what was our living. I do not +believe in parts of slavery. That whooping was cruel, but I know that +the white man helped the slave in ways. The slaves was worked too hard. +Men was no better than they are now. + +"My owner had two fine black horses name Night and Shade. Clem was a +white driver. We lived close to Fiat where they had horse races. He told +Clem to get Night ready to win some money. He told Clem not to let +nobody have their hand on the horse. Clem slept in the stable with the +horse. They had three horses on the track. They made three rounds. Night +lost three times, but on Friday Night come in and won the money. He made +two or three thousand dollars and paid Clem. I never heard how much. + + +Freedom + +"Some men come to our house searching for arms. We had a chest. They +threw things winding. Said it was freedom. We didn't think much of such +freedom. Had to take it. We didn't have no arms in the house. We never +seen free times and didn't know what to look for nohow. We never felt +times as good. We moved to the bottoms and I lost my parents. + +"I fell in the hands of some mean people. They worked me on the frozen +ground barefooted. My feet frostbit. I wore a shirt dress and a britches +leg cap on my head and ears. I had no shoes, no underwear. I slept on a +bed made in the corner of a room called a bunk. It had bagging over +straw and I covered with bagging. Aunt July (Julie) and Uncle Mass +Harris come for me. Sister brought my horse pa left for me. They took me +from, them folks to stay at Mr. W.C. Winters. He was good to me. He give +me fifty dollars and fed me and my horse. He give me good clothes and a +house in his yard. I was hungry. He fattened me and my horse both. + +"They broke the Ku Klux up by putting grapevines across the roads. I +know about that? I never seen one of them in my life. + +"Election days years gone by was big times. I did vote. I voted regular +a long time. The last President I voted for was Wilson. + +"I farmed and worked on steamboats on the Mississippi River. I was what +they called rousterbout. I loaded and unloaded freight, I worked on the +Choctaw, Jane White, Kate Adams, and other little boats a few days at a +time. Kate Adams burnt at Moons Landing. I stopped off here at Helena +for Christmas. Some people got drowned and some burned to death. The mud +clerk got lost. He went in and got two bags of silver money, put them in +his pockets. The stave plank broke and he went down and never come up. +He was at the shore nearly but nobody knew he had that silver in his +pockets. He never come up and he drowned. People seen him go in but the +others swum out. He never come up. They missed him and found him dead +and the two bags of silver. I was due to be on there but I wanted to +spend Christmas with grandma and my wife. The Choctaw carried ten +thousand bales of cotton at times. I worked at the oil mill sixteen or +seventeen years. I night watched on the transfer twenty-two years. I +come to Helena when I was thirty years old. I'm eighty-six now. The +worst thing I ever done was drink whiskey some. I done quit it. I have +asthma. The doctors say whiskey is bad on that disease. I don't tetch it +now. + +"I think the present generation is crazy. I wish I had the chance they +have now. The present times is getting better. I ask the Lord to spare +me to be one hundred years old. I'm strong in the faith. I pray every +day. He will open the way. The times have changed in my life." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: William Brown, Hazen, Arkansas +Age: 67 + + +I was born in Virginia but I was born after slavery. I heard my folks +talk a heap about oldern times. The way I come here was Dr. Hill brought +bout 75 families down to Mississippi to work on farms. I come to Deer +Creek close to Sunflower, Mississippi. I lived there 11 years and I +drifted to Arkansas. + +I don't remember if they was in any uprisings or not. If they was any +rebellion cept the big rebellion I don't recall it. My whole families +was in de heat of the war. + +My mother and father's owner was John Smith. I recollects hearin them +talk bout him well as if it was yesterday--we worked on McFowell place +close to Petersburg, Virginia when I was little. Then I worked for Miss +Bessie and Mr. John Stewart last fore I come with Dr. Hill. I had lived +up there but he come and settled down in Mississippi. + +The first place I worked on in Arkansas was the John Reeds bout 3 miles +from Danville. I stayed there 3 years. My folks stayed on there but I +rambled to Little Rock. I worked with Mr. L.C. Merrill. I milked cows +and cut grass, fed cows. He has a automobile company in Little Rock now. +I farmed bout all my life. Now I don't own nothing. I stays at my +daughters. I been married twice. Both my wives dead. + +The times change so much I don't know whether they any better or not. +The black race ain't never had nuthin--some few gets a little headway +once in a while. + +I used to vote some--didn't care nuthin bout it much. Never seed no good +come of it. Heap of them vote tickets like somebody tell em or don't +know how dey vote. + +The young generations better off than the old folks now. The things +change so fast I don't know how they will get by. + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: William Brown + 409 W. Twenty-Fifth Street + North Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: 78 + + +[HW: U.S. Dictatorship Predicted] + +"I was born in Arkansas in Cross County at the foot of Crowley's Ridge +on the east side of the Ridge and just about twelve miles from Old +Wittsburg, on May 3, 1861. I got the date from my mother. She kept dates +by the old family Bible. I don't know where she got her learning. She +had a knowledge of reading. I am about her sixth child. She was the +mother of thirteen. + +"My mother's master was named Bill Neely. Her mistress was named Mag +Neely. + +"My mother was one of the leading plow hands on Bill Neely's farm. She +had a old mule named Jane. When the Yankees would come down, Bill Neely +and all his friends would leave home. They would leave when they would +hear the cannon, because they said that meant the Yankees were coming. +When Neely went away, he would carry my mother to do his cooking. + +"She would leave the children there and carry just the baby when she +went. Old Aunt Malinda--she wasn't our aunt; she was just an old lady we +called Aunt Malinda who cooked for the kitchen--would cook for us while +she was gone. When the Yankees had passed through, my mother and the +master would all come back. + +"My original name was not Brown. It was Pope. I became Brown after the +War was over. I moved on the old Barnes' farm. When the soldiers were +mustered out in the end of the War, a lot of soldiers worked on that +place. Peter Brown, an old colored soldier mustered out from Memphis, +met my mother, courted her, and married her. All the other children that +were born to her were called Brown, and the people called her Brown, and +just called all the other children Brown too, including me. And I just +let it go that way. But my father was named Harrison Pope. He died in +the Confederate army out there somewheres around Little Rock. He had +violated some of the military laws, and they put him in that thing they +had to punish them by, and when they taken him out, he contracted +pneumonia and died. I don't know where he is buried. I would to God I +did! You know when these Southern armies went along they carried colored +stevedores to do the work for them. + + +Patrollers + +"I was a little fellow in the time of the pateroles. If the slaves +wanted to go out anywhere, they had to get a pass and they had to be +back at a certain time. If they didn't get back, it would be some kind +of punishment. The pateroles was a mighty bad thing. If they caught you +when you were out without a pass, they would whip you unmercifully, and +if you were out too late they would whip you. Wherever colored people +had a gathering, them pateroles would be there looking on to see if they +could find anybody without a pass. If they did find anybody that +couldn't show a pass, they would take him right out and whip him then +and there. + + +Ku Klux + +"I know the Ku Klux must have been in use before the War because I +remember the business when I was a little bit of a fellow. They had a +place out there on Crowley's Ridge they used to meet at. They tried to +make the impression that they would be old Confederate soldiers that had +been killed in the battle of Shiloh, and they used to ride down from the +Ridge hollering, 'Oh! Lordy, Lordy, Lordy!' They would have on those old +uniforms and would call for water. And they would have some way of +pouring the water down in a bag or something underneath their uniforms +so that it would look like they could drink four or five gallons. + +"One night when they come galloping down on their horses hollering 'Oh! +Lordy, Lordy' like they used to, some Yankee soldiers stationed nearby +tied ropes across the road and killed about twenty-five of the horses +and broke legs and arms of about ten or fifteen. They never used the +ridge any more after that. + + +Parents + +"My father's master was Shep Pope and his wife was named Julia Pope. I +can't remember where my father was born but my mother was born in +Tuscaloosa County, Alabama. I don't know the names of my grandfather and +grandmother on either side. + + +Slave Houses + +"The old slave house was a log house built out of hewed logs. The logs +were scalped on each side to give it the appearance of a box house. And +they said the logs would fit together better, too. They would chink up +the cracks with grass and dirt--what they called 'dob'. That is what +they called chinking to keep the wind and rain out. + +"I was born in a one-room hut with a clapboard room on one side for the +kitchen and storeroom. They would go out in the woods and split out the +clapboards. My mother had eight of we children in that room at one time. + + +Furniture + +"As to furniture, well, we had benches for chairs. They were made out of +punching four holes in a board and putting sticks in there for legs. +That is what we sat on. Tables generally were nailed up with two legs +out and with the wall to support the other side. The beds were made in a +corner with one leg out and the two walls supporting the other sides. +They called that bed the 'Georgia Horse'. We had an old cupboard made up +in a corner. + + +Food + +"Food was generally kept in the old cupboard my mother had. When she had +too much for the cupboard, she put it in an old chist. + + +Right After the War + +"My mother had eight children to feed. After the emancipation she had to +hustle for all of them. She would go up to work--pick cotton, pull corn, +or what not, and when she came home at night she had on old dog she +called 'Coldy'. She would go out and say, 'Coldy, Coldy, put him up.' +And a little later, we would hear Coldy bark and she would go out and +Coldy would have something treed. And she would take whatever he +had-'possum, coon, or what not-and she would cook it, and we would have +it for breakfast the next morning. + +"Mother used to go out on neighboring farms and they would give her the +scraps when they killed hogs and so on. One night she was coming home +with some meat when she was attacked by wolves. Old Coldy was along and +a little yellow dog. The dogs fought the wolves and while they were +fighting, she slipped home. Next morning old Coldy showed up cut almost +in two where the wolves had bitten him. We bandaged him up and took care +of him. And he lived for two or more years. The little yellow dog never +did show up no more. Mother said that the wolves must have killed and +eaten him. + + +Schooling + +"I put in about one month schooling when I was a boy about six or seven +years old. Then I moved into St. Francis County and went two weeks to a +subscription school a few miles below Forrest City. Later I went back +and took the examination in Cross County and passed it, and taught for a +year. I got the bulk of my education by lamp light reading. I have done +some studying in other places--three years in Shorter College where I +got the degreee of B.D. and D.D. at the age of fifty-five. I have +preached for fifty-seven years and actually pastored for forty-four +years. I followed farming in my early days. When I first married my +wife, we farmed there for ten or twelve years before I entered the +ministry. I have been married fifty-seven years. + + +Marriage + +"I was married January 15, 1882. I am now in the fifty-seventh year of +marriage. My wife was named Mary Ellen Stubbs. She was from Baldwyn, +Mississippi. They moved from Mississippi about the winter of 1880 and +they made one crop in Arkansas before we married. They stopped in our +county and attended our church. I met her in that way. The most +remarkable thing was that during the time I was acquainted with her our +pastor became incapacitated and I took charge of the church. I ran a +revival and she was converted during the revival. But she joined the +C.M.E. Church. I belong to the A.M.E. + + +Slave Sales + +"I remember my mother carrying the children from the Bill Neely place to +the Pope place. That Saturday evening after we got there, there came +along some slave traders. They had with them as I remember some ten or +twelve boys and girls and some old folks that were able to work. They +had them chained. I asked my mother what they were going to do with them +and she said they were carrying them to Louisiana to work on a cane +farm. One boy cried a lot. The next morning they put those slaves in the +road and drove them down to Wittsbarg the same as you would drive a +drove of cattle, Wittsburg was where they caught the boat to go down to +Louisiana. That was the best mode of travel in those days. + + +Opinions + +"In a few words, my opinion of the present is that our existence as +Democrats and Republicans is about played out. + +"If Mr. Roosevelt is elected for a third term, I think we will go into a +dictatorship just as Russia, Germany, and Italy have already done. I +think we are nearer to that now than we heve ever been before. I do not +think that Mr. Roosevelt will become a dictator, but I do believe that +his being elected a third time will cause some one else to become +dictator. My opinion is that he is neither Democrat nor Republican. + +"Our young people are advancing from a literary point of view, but I +claim that they are losing out along moral lines. I don't believe that +we value morals as well as the people did years ago who didn't know so +much. I believe that the whole nation, white and black, is losing moral +stamina. They do not think it is bad to kill a man, take another man's +wife or rob a bank, or anything else. They desecrate the churches by +carrying anything into the church. There is no sacred place now. +Carnivals and everything else are carried to the church. + +"If Mr. Roosevelt is not reelected again, the country is going to have +one of the bloodiest wars it has ever had because we have so many +European doctrines coming into the United States. I have been living +seventy-eight years, and I never thought that I would live to see the +day when the government would reach out and take hold of things like it +has done--the WPA, the FERA, and the RFC, and other work going on today. +We are headed for communism and we are going to get in a bloody war. +There are hundreds of men going 'round who believe in communism but who +don't want it to be known now." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Maggie Broyles. Forrest City. Arkansas +Age: About 80? + + +"I was born in Decatur, Tennessee. Mother was sold on the block at +public auction in St. Louis. Master Bob Young bought a boy and a girl. +My father was a full-blood Irishman. His name was Lassiter. She didn't +have no more children by him. He was hired help on Bob Young's place. + +"Bob Young had one thousand five hundred acres of land. He had several +farms. Little Hill and Creek farms. They had a rock walk from the +kitchen to the house. I slept in a little trunnel bed under my mother's +mistress' bed. The bed was corded and had a crank. They used no slats in +them days. We called Master Bob Young's wife Miss Nippy; her name was +Par/nel/i/py. They was good old people. His boys was rough. They drunk +and wasted the property. + +"The white folks had feather beds and the slaves had grass beds. We'd +pull grass and cure it. It made a'good bed. Miss Nippy learnt us to +work. I know how to do near 'bout anything now. She kept an ash hopper +dripping all the time. We made all our soap and lye hominy by the +washpots full. Mother cooked and washed and kept house. She took the +lead wid the house-work. Miss Nippy ride off when she got ready. Mother +went right on wid the work. I took care of the chickens and took the +cows to the pasture. I helped to wash clothes. I stood on a block to +turn meat. We had a brick stove and a grill to fry meat on. We had good +clothes and good to eat. After I was grown I'd go back to see Miss +Nippy. She raised me. She say, 'I thought so much of your mama. I love +you. I hope you live a long time.' Mama had a hard time and Miss Nippy +knowd all about it. + +"After Bob Young bought mother he went back and bought Aunt Sarah. They +growed up together. They could dance with a glass of water on their +heads and never spill a drap. + +"Ma said when she married they had a corn shucking and a big dinner four +o'clock in the morning. Her name was Luiza. She had two children by him. +Aunt Jane on Welches place took him away from her. He quit mother cold +to go wid her. After freedom she married Ben Pitts. The way she married +at the corn shucking, they jumped over the broom back'ards and Master +Bob Young 'nounced it. She was killed no time after freedom, but she had +had six children. Miss Nippy kept me. She was good to me and trained me +to read. We all never left after freedom. I never left till I was good +and grown. + +"I always thought Master Bob Young buried his money during the War. +Children wasn't allowed to watch and ask questions. I was standing in +the chimney corner and seen him bury a box of something in the flower +garden. I was in Miss Nippy's room. I never did know if it was money or +what. He had a old yaller dog followed him all the time. Truman was a +speckled dog set about on the front porch to bark. + +"Sam, the boy that was bought when I was in St. Louis, was hard to +control. Bob Young beat him. He died. They said he killed him. They +buried him in the white folks' cemetery. + +"They celebrated Christmas visiting and big parties. We would have +eggnog and ten or fifteen cakes. Master Bob Young was a consumptive. He +had it thirty-five years. They all died out with it. They kept a big ten +or fifteen gallon demijohn with willow woven around the bottom full of +whiskey, all the time upstairs. They kept the door locked. + +"I stole miny ah drink. Find the door unlocked. I got too much one time. +It made me sick. I thought I had a chill. She thought I been upstairs. +They was particular with the children, both black and white then. They +put the children to bed by sundown and they would set around the fire +and talk. She raised Elnora and the baby Altona after mother got killed. +She give them good clothes and good to eat. Their papa took the boy. He +left after mother got killed. We took a pride in the place like it was +our own. We didn't know but what it was our very own. + +"We had a acre in garden. We raised everything. We had three or four +thousand pounds of meat and three cribs of corn. I ketched it when I +left them. I made thirty-three crops in my life. My children all grown +and gone. My son-in-law died. He had dropsy eight months. He had a dead +liver. I've wanted since he died. I've had a hard time since he died. He +was a worker and so good to us all. + +"Mother worked with a white woman. Mother was full-blood Indian herself. +The woman's husband got to dealing with his daughter. She had three +babies in all. They said they put them up in the ceiling, up in a loft. +This old man got mad with Bob Young and burnt his gin. Mother seen him +slipping around. They ask her but she wouldn't tell on him, for she +didn't see him set it on fire. They measured the tracks. He got scared +mother would tell on him. One night a colored man on the place come +over. Her husband was gone somewhere and hadn't got home. She was +cooking supper. They heard somebody but thought it was a pig come +around. Hogs run out all time. The step was a big limestone rock. She +opened the door and put the hot lid of the skillet on it to cool. Stood +it up sideways. Then they heard a noise at that door. It was pegged. So +she went along with the cooking. It wasn't late. He found a crack at the +side of the stick and dirt chimney, put the muzzle of the gun in there +and shot her through her heart. The man flew. She struggled to the edge +of the bed and fell. The children was asleep and I was afraid to move. +The moon come up. I couldn't get her on the bed. I put a pillow under +her head and a quilt over her, but I didn't think she was dead. The baby +cried in the night. I was so scared I put the eight-months-old baby down +under there to nurse. It nursed. She was dead then, I think now. When +four o'clock come it was daylight. The little brother said, 'I know +what's the matter, our mama's dead.' I went up to Mr. Bob Young's. He +brought the coroners. I was so young I was afraid they was going to take +us to jail. I asked little brother what they said they was going to do. +He said, 'They are going to bury mama in a heep (deep) hole. They set +out after her husband and chased him clear off. They thought he shot her +by him not coming home that night and her cooking supper for him. + +"This white man left and went to Texas. His wife said the best woman in +Decatur had been killed. They put him on the gallows for killing his +daughter's babies, three of them and put them in the loft. He told how +he killed mother. He had murdered four. He was afraid mother would tell +about him. She knowd so much. She didn't tell. Indians don't tell. She +was with his girl when the first baby was born, but she thought it died +and she thought the girl come home visiting, so his wife said she had +told her to keep her from telling. It was a bad disgrace. His wife was a +good, humble, kind woman. + +"Master Bob Young sent for Ben Pitts after they'd run him off, and he +let him have his pick of us. He took the boy and lived on the place. Her +other husband come and got his two children. Miss Nippy took our baby +girl and the other little girl. I was raised up at her house, so she +kept me on. Kept us all till we married off. + +"I'd feel foolish to go try to vote. I'm too old now. + +"I don't get help from the government yet. We are having a hard time to +scratch around and not go hungry." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Ida Bryant, Hazea. Arkansas + (Very very black Negro woman) +Age: 61 + + +"My mother was Hulda Williams. Grandpa was Jack Williams. Her mistress +was a widow woman in slavery times. They lived in Louisiana. I was born +close to Bastrop in Morehouse Parish. My father died when I was ten +years old. He was old. I was a child. Things look different to you then +you know. Grandpa was Hansen Terry, grandma Aggie Terry. They called pa +Major Terry but he belong to Bill Talbot. Hansen Terry was a free man. +_He molded his own money._ He died in South Carolina. Pa come from +Edgefield, South Carolina to Alabama. Stayed there awhile then come on +to Louisiana. He slipped off from his master. Between South Carolina and +Louisiana he walked forty miles. He rode all the other time. My folks +always farmed. + +"Times have been getting some better all along since I was a chile. +Times is a heap better now than I ever seen in my life. The young men +depends on their wives to cook and make a living. They don't work +much--none of em. We old niggers doin' the wash in' and the young women +doin' cookin' and easy jobs. None of the men ain't workin' to do no +good! A few months in the year ain't no workin'. + +"I get commodities. I owns this house now. I bout paid it out. I washes +three washin's a week. The rest of the time I pieces up quilts for +myself. I need cover." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Person interviewed: Belle Buntin, Marianne, Arkansas +Age: Up in 80's + + +"I never was sold. I was born in Oakland, Mississippi. My master said he +wanted all he raised. He never sold one. He bought my mother in +Lexington County. She was a field hand. Our owners was Master Johnson +Buntin and Mistress Sue Buntin. They had two children--Bob and Fannie. +He had a big plantation and four families of slaves. Charlotte was the +cook. Myra worked at the house and in the field. He had seven little +colored boys and two little colored girls. I spent most of my time up at +the house playing with Bob and Fannie. When mistress whooped one she +whooped all three. She would whoop us for stealing her riding horse out. +We would bridle it and all three ride and ride. We got several whoopings +about that. + +"I have seen colored folks sold at Oakland. They had a block and nigger +traders come. One trader would go and see a fine baby. He keep on till +he got it. I've seen them take babies from the mother's arm and if the +mother dare cry, they would git a beatin'. They look like they bust over +their grief. + +"If you was out after seven o'clock the patrollers git you. They would +beat and take you home. Some masters say to them, 'You done right,' and +some say, 'You bring my hands home; I'll whoop them myself.' + +"The patrollers caught one of Gaddises women and whooped her awful for +coming to town on Sunday. I never did know why she went to town that +way. + +"That selling was awful and crowds come to see how they sell. They acted +like it was a picnic. Some women was always there, come with their +husbands. Some women sold slaves and some bought them. + +"I never did see none sell naked. I seen men took from their wives and +mothers and children. Let me tell you they didn't have no squalling +around or they would get took off and a beating. + +"Master Alex Buntin was Dr. Buntin. He said, 'I worked like one of my +slaves and bought my slaves with what I made and I am not going to have +them 'bused by the patrollers. George and Kit and Johnson was his +cousins. Kit wasn't so good to his slaves. + +"It was my job to brush the flies off the table. I had a fly brush. I +would eat out of Bob's and Fannie's plates. Miss Sue say, 'Bell, I'm +going to whoop you.' I say, 'Miss Sue, please don't, I'm hungry too.' +She say, 'You stop playing and eat first next time.' Then she'd put some +more on their plates. We sat on a bench at the table. We et the same the +white folks did all cooked up together. + +"One time Dr. Buntin got awful mad. The dogs found some whiskey in a +cave one of his slaves had hid there. They would steal and hide it in a +cave. He got a beating and they washed it in salt water to keep them +from getting sore and stiff. + +"Some folks kept dogs trained to hunt runaway niggers. They was fat, and +you better not hit one or hurt it if it did bite or you would git a +awful beating. + +"Master Alex was a legislator. He had to leave when the Yankees come +through. They killed all the legislators. I loved him. He run a store +and we three children went to the store to see him nearly every day. He +took us all three on his knees at the some time. I loved him. When he +was gone, I said, 'Miss Sue, where is Master Alex?' She say, 'Maybe he +be back pretty soon.' While he was gone they had a battle in a little +skirt of woods close by. We hung to Miss Sue's skirt tail. I seen the +Yankees run by on horses and some walking. Mr. Jordan, a southern +soldier, was shot in his ribs. Mr. Buford was shot in his knee. Some of +the other southern soldiers drug them up to our house. Miss Sue nursed +them. I think they got well and went home. + +"Three days before Master Alex left they sent all the stock off and put +the turkeys and geese under the house, and chickens too. It was dark so +they kept pretty quiet. When the Yankees got there they stripped the +smoke-house. We had a lots of meat and they busted the storehouse open +and strowed (strewed) meat and flour all along the road. They hired +Mammy (Charlotte) to cook a big meal for them. She told the man she was +'fraid Miss Sue whoop her. He said, 'Whooping time near 'bout out.' He +asked her 'bout some chickens but she wasn't goin' to tell him 'cause it +was her living too for them to waste up. They never found the geese, +turkeys, and chickens. They rambled all through the house looking for +Master Alex and went through every drawer and closet upstairs and down. +It was scandalous. They had Miss Sue walking and crying and us three +children clinging to her skirt tail scared to death and crying too. When +they left, the big lieutenant rode off ahead on a fine gray horse. They +come back when we just got the table sot and et every crumb of our +dinner. They was a lively gang. I hate 'em. I was hungry. Rations was +scarce. They wasted the best we had. Master Alex hod three stores and he +kept the middle one. + + +Freedom + +"Mistress told all Master Alex's slaves they had been freed. The men all +left. My mother left and took me. I got mad and went back and lived +there till I married. Master Alex come back after two weeks. My mother +soon died after the surrender. She died at Batesville, Mississippi. Lots +of the slaves died. Their change of living killed lots of 'em. My father +lived on Sam Bronoy's (Branough's) place. Master Alex wanted to buy him +but he took him on to Texas before I was born. I never did see him. + +"I been farming, cooking, wash and iron along. I been in Arkansas twelve +or fourteen years. + +"How am I supported? I'm not much supported. My boy don't have work much +of the time. I don't get the pension. I trusts in the Lord. I belong to +New Bethel Baptist Church down here. + +"Times--I don't know what to think. My race is the under folks and I +don't never say nothing to harm 'em. I'm one of 'em. Times is hardest in +my life. I have to sit. I can't walk a step--creeping paralysis." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson +Parson interviewed: Jeff Burgess, Clarendon, Arkansas +Age: Born in 1664 or 1865, forgot which + + +"I was born in Granville, Texas. My master was Strathers Burgess and +mistress Polly Burgess. My master died 'fore I was born. He died on the +way to Texas, trying to save his slaves. Keep them from leaving him and +from going into the war. They didn't want to fight. His son was killed +in the war. My folks didn't know they was free till three years after +the war was over. They come back to Caloche Bay, the old home place. +There was a bureau at De Valls Bluff. They had to let the slaves go and +they was citizens then. My folks wasn't very anxious to leave the white +owners because times was so funny and they didn't have nowhere to go. +The courts was torn up powerful here in Arkansas. + +"Heap of meanness going on right after the war. One man tell you do this +and another man say you better not do that you sho get in trouble. It +was hard to go straight. They said our master was a good man but awful +rough wid his slaves and the hands overseeing too. Guess he was rough +wid his family too. + +"Times is hard with me, I gits $10 pension every month. I got no home +now. I got me three hogs. I lives three miles from here (Clarendon). + +"If I wasn't so old and no account I'd think the times the best ever. +It's bad when you get old. I jess sees the young folks. I don't know +much about them. Seems lack they talk a lot of foolish chat to me. I got +a lot and a half in town. They tore down my house and toted it off for +fire wood. It was rented. Then they moved out and wouldn't pay no rent. +They kept doing that way. I never had a farm of my own. + +"I was good with a saw and axe. I cleared land and farmed. Once I worked +on the railroad they was building. I drove pile mostly. Farming is the +best job and the best place to make a living. I found out that myself." + + + + +Interviewer: Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: Norman Burkes + 2305 West Eleventh Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 78 + + +"I didn't quite make slavery. Me and freedom came here together. + +"I was born in Union County, Arkansas. My mother was born in Virginia +and my father was an Alabamian. + +"I've heered 'em say how they done in slavery times. Whupped 'em and +worked 'em and didn't feed 'em much. Said they'd average about three +pounds of meat a week and a peck of meal, a half gallon of molasses. +That was allowed the hands for a week. No sugar and no coffee. And +they'd issue flour on Saturday so they could have Sunday morning +biscuits. + +"My father was sold to Virginia and he and my mother was married there +and they moved with their white people here to Arkansas. + +"They called their owner old Master. Yes'm, I can remember him. Many +times as he whipped me I ought to remember him. I never will forget that +old man. They claimed he was pretty good to 'em. He didn't whup 'em +much, I don't think. + +"If my mother was livin' she could tell you everything about Virginia. +She was one hundred and two when she died. My folks is long livers. + +"My oldest brother was sold in Virginia and shipped down into Texas +about ten years before I was born and I ain't never seen him. + +"They sold wives from their husbands and children from their parents and +they couldn't help it. Just like this war business. Come and draft 'em +and they couldn't help it. + +"I think the way things is now, they're goin to build up another war." + + +Extra Comment + +I was interviewing this man on the front porch and at this point, he got +up and went into the house, so the interview was ended as far as he was +concerned. + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertaon +Person interviewed: Will Burks, Sr. + Pine City, Ark.--5 mi. from Holly Grove +Age: 75 + + +"My parents names was Katherine Hill and Bill Burks. They had five boys +and three girls. Their owners fur as I knows was Frank and Polly Burks. +They had a heap of slaves. They was good white folks. My folks stayed on +two or three years. They was both field hands. They had to go to the +house and Master Frank Burks told em they was free. In 1880 Judge Scott +paid their way and I come wid them to Forrest City. There was a crowd. +He bought em out here to farm. We come Christmas 1880. I never will +forgit that. It was jes different in a new country and left some of our +folks an all that. + +"I was born close to Columbia, Tennessee. I used to see the soldiers +pass long the big road, both sides. Seem lack theyd be in strings a mile +long. I never heard much bout the war. They wouldn't let white nor black +children set round and hear what they was talkin' bout. Why they send em +off to play--build playhouses outer rocks and hay, leaves, any little +thing they throw way we take it to play house. White children played +together then cause it was a long ways between white folks house, and +colored children raised up wid em. I don't see none that now. + +"One thing I done a long time was stay at the toll gate. They had a heap +of em when I was a boy. The fences was rock or rail and big old wooden +gates round and on it marked, "Toll Gate." I'd open and shut the gate. +Walkers go free. Horseback riders--fifteen cents. Buggies--twenty-five +cents. Wagons--fifty cents. The state broke that up and made new roads. +Some they changed a little and used. After that I stand 'bout on roads +through fields--short ways folks went but where the farmers had to keep +closed up on count of the crops. I open and shut the gate. They'd throw +me a nickel. That was first money I made--stayin' at toll gates about +Columbia, Tennessee. + +"Ku Klux come to our house and took my papa off wid em. Mama was cryin', +she told us children they was goiner hurt him. I recollect all bout it. +They thought my papa knowed about some man bein' killed. My papa died +wid knots on his neck where they hung him up wid ropes. It hurt him all +his life after that. It made him sick what all they done to him tryin' +to make him tell who killed somebody. He was laid up a long time. I +recollect that. When they found out papa didn't know nothin' bout it, +they said they was sorry they done him so mean. + +"I vote a Republican ticket lack my papa till I cluded it not the party, +it is the man that rules right. I voted fur Mr. Roosevelt. I know he is. +(A Democrat) I know'd it when I voted for him. Times is tough but they +was worse 'fo he got elected. Things you buy gets higher and higher that +makes it bad. We got two hogs, one cow, few chickens and a home. I owns +my home for a fact. My wife is 73. I am purty nigh 75 years old. What +make it hard on us, we is bout wore out. + +"I been farmin' and carpenterin' all my life. Last years I been farmin' +wid Mr. L.M. Osborne at Osborne. We work forty acres and made 57 bales. +I had a team and he had a team. So I worked it on halves. That was long +time ago. In 1929 I believe. Best farmin' I ever done. We got twenty +cents pound." + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Annie L. LaCotts +Person interviewed: Adeline Burris, DeWitt, Arkansas +Age; 91 + + +Adeline Burris is a little old white-haired wrinkled-faced mulatto or +yellow Negro woman who says she was old enough to be working in the +fields when the war began. According to her story she must have been +about 14 then, which would make her at least 90 years old now. She looks +as though she might be a hundred. She is stooped and very feeble but can +get around some days by the help of a stout walking stick; at other +times she cannot leave her bed for days at a time. She owns nothing and +is living in the home of her daughter-in-law who is kind to her and +cares for her as best she can. She says she was born in Murry County, +Tennessee. Columbia was the county seat. When asked if she was born +during slavery time she said, "Yes, honey, my mammy was one of de slaves +what belonged to Mr. Billie and Miss Liza Renfroe. Lord bless her heart +she was good to my mammy and her chillun! I had two little brothers, +twins, and when dey come to dis world I can remember how our old +mistress would come every day to see about dem and my mammy. She'd bring +things to eat, clothes for the babies and everything else. Yes sir! My +mother didn't want for _anything_ as long as she stayed with Miss +Liza, not even after de Negroes was _freed_. When I was a little +girl I was give to my young mistress, and I stayed with her till my +folks was coning to Arkansas and I come too." + + +"Why did your folks move to Arkansas?" + +"Well, you see we heard this was a good country and there was a white +man come there to get a lot of niggers to farm for him down on the river +and we come with him. He brought a lot of families on a big boat called +a flatboat. We were days and nights floating down the river. We landed +at St. Charles. I married in about two years and haven't ever lived +anywhere else but Arkansas County and I've always been around good white +folks. I'd been cold and hungry a lot of times if it wasn't for some of +dese blessed white folkes' chillen; dey comes to see me and brings me +things to eat and clothes too, sometimes." + + +"How many tines did you marry, Aunt Add.?" + +"Just one time; and I just had four chillen, twins, two times. One child +died out of each sit--just left me and Becky and Bob. Bob and Dover, his +wife, couldn't get along but I think most of it's his fault, for Dover's +just as good to me as she can be. My own child couldn't be better to me +den she is. + +"I don't know, honey, but looks to me like niggers was better off in dem +days den they are now. I know dey was if dey had good white folks like +we did. Dey didn't have to worry about rent, clothes, nor sumpin to eat. +Dat was there for them. All they had to do was work and do right. Course +I guess our master might not of been so good and kind ef we had been +mean and lazy, but you know none of us ever got a whippin' in our life. + +"Honey, come back to see Aunt Add. sometime. I likes to talk to you." + + + + +Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor +Person interviewed: Jennie Butler + 3012 Short Main Street, Little Rock, Arkansas +Age: Between 103 and 107 + + +[HW: Nurses ? ? ?][TR: Illegible] + +"I was born February 10, 1831 in Richmond, Virginia. I was a nurse +raised by our white folks in the house with the Adamses. Sue Stanley +(white and Indian) was my godmother, or 'nursemother' they called em +then. She was a sister-in-law to Jay Goold's wife. She married an Adams. +I wasn't raised a little nigger child like they is in the South. I was +raised like people. I wasn't no bastard. My father was Henry Crittenden, +an Indian full blooded Creek. He was named after his father, Henry +Crittenden. My mother's name was Louisa Virginia. Her parents were the +Gibsons, same nationality as her husband. My 'nursemother' was a white +woman, but she had English and Indian blood in her. My mother and father +were married to each other just like young people are nowadays. None of +my people were slaves and none of them owned any slaves. + + +House + +"In Richmond, they lived in a little log cabin. Before I had so much +trouble I could tell you all about it, but I never forget that little +log cabin. That is near Oak Grove where Lincoln and Garfield and Nat +Turner met and talked about slavery. + + +Furniture + +"We had oak furniture. We had a tall bed with a looking glass in the +back of it, long bolsters, long pillow cases just like we used to make +long infant dresses. There were four rooms in the cabin. It was in the +city. The kitchen was a little off from the house. You reached it by +going through a little portico. + + +Food + +"We ate bananas, oranges, hazelnuts, apples, fruit for every month in +the year for breakfast, batter cakes, egg bread. The mornings we had egg +bread we had flesh. For dinner and supper we had milk and butter and +some kind of sweetness, and bread, of course. We had a boiled dinner. We +raised everything-even peanuts. + + +Clothes + +"We made everything we wore. Raised and made the cloth and the leather, +and the clothes and the shoes. + + +Contacts with Slaves and Slave Owners + +"I don't know nothin' about slavery. I didn't have nothin' to do with +them folks. We picked em up on our way in our travels and they had been +treated like dogs and hadn't been told they were free. We'd tell em they +was free and let em go. + + +Leaving Richmond + +"All I can tell you is that we come on down and never stopped until we +got to Memphis, and we tarried there twenty-five years. We came through +Louisiana and Georgia on our way out here and picked up many slaves who +didn't know they was free. They was using these little boats when we +came out here. In Louisiana and Georgia when we came out here, they +weren't thinkin' bout telling the niggers they were free. And they +weren't in Clarksville either. We landed in Little Rock and made it our +headquarters. + + +Occupations + +"Christian work has been the banner of my life-labor work, giving +messages about the Bible, teaching. Mostly they kept me riding--I mean +with the doctors. When we were riding, the doctors didn't go in a +mother's room; he sent the rider in. They call em nurses now and handle +them indifferently. The doctor jus' stopped in the parlor and made his +money jus' sitting there and we women did all the work. In 1912, I gave +up my riding license. It was too rough for me in Arkansas. And then they +wouldn't allow me anything either. + +"Now I have a poor way of making a living because they have taken away +everything from me. I prays and lives by the Bible. I can't get nothin' +from my husband's endowment. He was an old soldier in the Civil War on +the Confederate side and I used to get $30 a month from Pine Bluff. He +was freed there. Wilson was President at the time I put in for an +increase for him in the days of his sickness. He was down sick thirty +years and only got $30 a month. The pension was increased to $60 for +about one year. He died in 1917, March 10, and was in his ninetieth year +or more from what he told me. The picture shows it too. + + +Voting + +"Paying my taxes was the votin' I ever done. They never could get me to +gee nor haw. There wasn't any use voting when you can see what's on the +future before you. I never had many colored friends. None that voted. +And very few Indians and just a few others. And them that stood by me +all the while, they're sleeping. + + +Thoughts of Young People + +"Don't know nothin' bout these young folks today. Don't nothin' spoil a +duck but his bill. I have had a hard time. I am heavy and I'm jus' +walkin' bout. A little talk with Jesus is all I have. I'll fall on my +knees and I'll walk as Jesus says. My heart's bleeding. I know I'm not +no more welcome than a dog. + +"I pays for this little shack and when you come to see me, you might as +well come to that kitchen door. I ain't going to use no deceit with +nobody. I'll show you the hole I have to go in." + + +Interviewer's Comment + +I understand that Sister Butler gets a pension of $5 a month. Although +her voice is vigorous, her mental powers are somewhat weak. She cannot +remember the details of anything at all. + +She evidently had heard something about Nat Turner, but it would be hard +to tell what. The Nat Turner Rebellion, so called, a fanatical affair +which was as much opposed by the Negroes as by the whites, took place in +Southampton County, Virginia, in August and September 1831, the same +year in which Jennie Butler claims birth. She would naturally hear +something about it, but she does not remember what. + +She had a newspaper clipping undated and minus the reading matter +showing her husband's picture, and another showing herself, February 10, +1938, The Arkansas Democrat. + + + + +Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden +Person interviewed: E.L. Byrd + 618 N. Cedar, Pine Bluff, Arkansas +Age: 76 + + +"I was born in 1862. I just can remember the Yankees. They come through +there and got horses and money and anything else they wanted. To my +reasoning that's the reason the North has got more now. They got all the +money they could find. And they took one fellow belonged to the same man +I did. + +"My owner's name was Jack Byrd. We stayed with him about a year and then +we farmed for ourselves. + +"I never went to school much. + +"My mother was a widow woman and I had to work. That was in South +Carolina. + +"I come to Arkansas in 1890. I didn't marry till I was about +thirty-seven. I got one child living. That's my daughter; I live with +her. She's a bookkeeper for Perry's Undertaking Company. + +"When I come to Arkansas I stopped down here in Ashley County. I farmed +till I come to Pine Bluff. I been here forty years. I worked at the +stave mills. I just worked for three different firms in forty years. + +"I used to own this place, but I had to let it go on account of taxes. +Then my daughter bought it in. + +"I been tryin' to get a pension but don't look like I'm go in' to get +it. + +"I have to stay here with these children while my daughter works. It +takes all she makes to keep things goin'." + + + + +Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson. +Person interviewed: Emmett Augasta Byrd, Marianna, Arkansas +Age: 83 + + +"I was born in Washington County, Missouri. I'm eighty-three years old. +Mother's owner was William Byrd. He got killed in a dispute over a +horse. A horse trader shot him. His name was Cal Dony.[TR: There is a +mark that may be a line over the 'o' or a tilde over the 'n'.] Father's +owner was Byrd too. Mother was Miss Harriett Byrd's cook. Yes, I knowed +her very well. I was nine years old when I was stole. + +"Me and my older brother was both stole. His name was Hugh Byrd. We was +just out. It was in September. A gang out stealing horses stole us. It +was when Price made his last raid to Missouri. It was some of the +soldiers from his gang. We was playing about. They overtook us and let +us ride, then they wouldn't let us git off. They would shot us if we +had. In a few days we was so far off. We cried and worried a heap. + +"It was eighteen years before I see my mother. The old snag I was riding +give out and they was leading so they changed me. I cried two or three +days. They didn't pay my crying no 'tention. They had a string of nigger +men and boys, no women, far as from me 'cross to that bank. I judge it +is three hundred yards over there. + +"After the battle of Big Blue River my man got killed and another man +had charge of me and somebody else went off with my brother. I never +seen him. That battle was awful, awful, awful! Well, I certainly was +scared to death. They never got out of Missouri with my brother. In 1872 +he went to St. Louis to my mother. She was cooking there. My father went +with the Yankees and was at Jefferson Barracks in the army during the +War. He was there when we got stole but she went later on before he +died. He was there three months. He took pneumonia. They brought me in +to Kansas and back by Ft. Smith. + +"Talking about hard times, war times is all the hard times I ever seen. +No foolin'! It was really hard times. We had no bread, shoot down a cow +and cut out what we wanted, take it on. We et it raw. Sometimes we would +cook it but we et more raw than cooked. When we got to Ft. Smith we +struck good times. Folks was living on parched corn and sorghum +molasses. They had no mills to grind up the corn. Times was hard they +thought. Further south we come better times got. When we landed at +Arkadelphia we stayed all night and I was sold next day. Mr. Spence was +the hotel keeper. He bought me. He give one hundred fifty dollars and a +fine saddle horse for me. I never heard the trade but that is what I +heard 'em say afterwards. Mr. Spence was a cripple man. John Merrican +left me. He been mean to me. He was rough. Hit me over the head, beat +me. He was mean. He lived down 'bout Warren, down somewhere in the +southern part of the state. I never seen him no more. Mr. Spence was +good to me since I come to think about it but then I didn't think so. We +had plenty plain victuals at the hotel. He meant to be good to me but I +expected too much I reckon. Then it being a public place I heard lots +what was said around. I come to think I ought to be treated good as the +boarders. Now I see it different. Mr. Spence walked on a stick and a +crutch. He couldn't be very cruel to me if he had wanted to. He wasn't +mean a bit. I was the bellboy and swept 'round some and gardened. + +"In 1866, in May, I run off. I went to Dallas County across Ouachita +River. I stayed there with Matlocks and Russells and Welches till I was +good and grown. Mr. Spence never tried to find me. I hoped he would. +They wasn't so bad but I had to work harder. They never give me nothing. +I seen Mr. Spence twice after I left but he never seen me. If he did he +never let on. I never seen his wife no more after I left her. I didn't +see him for four years after I left, then in three more years I seen him +but the hotel had burned. + + +Freedom + +"Mr. Spence told me I was free. I didn't leave. I didn't have sense to +know where to go. I didn't know what freedom was. So he went to the free +mens' bureau and had me bound to him till I was twenty-one years old. He +told me what he had done. He was to clothe me, feed me, send me to +school so many months a year, give me a horse and bridle and saddle and +one hundred fifty dollars when I was twenty-one years old. That would +have been eight or nine years. Seemed too long a time to wait. I thought +I could do better than that. I never done half that good. I never went +to school a day in my life. I was sorry I run off after it was too late. + +"I heard too much talking at the hotel. They argued a whole heap more +than they do now. They set around and talk about slavery and freedom and +everything else. It made me restless and I run off. I was ashamed to be +seen much less go back. Folks used to have shame. + + +Ku Klux + +"In 1868 I lived with John Welch one year. I seen the going out and +coming in. I heard what they was doing. I wasn't afraid of them then. I +lived with one of 'em and I wasn't afraid of 'em. I learned a good deal +about it. They called it uprising and I found out their purpose was to +hold down the nigger. They said they wanted to make them submissive. +They catch 'em and beat 'em half to death. I heard they hung some of +'em. No, I didn't see it. I knew one or two they beat. They took some of +the niggers right out of the cotton patch and dressed them up and +drilled 'em. When they come back they was boastful. Then they had to +beat it out of 'em. Some of 'em didn't want to go back to work. Since I +growed up I thought it out that Mr. Spence was reasonably good to me but +I didn't think so then. It was a restlessness then like it is now 'mong +the young class of folks. The truth is they don't know what they want +nor what to do and they don't do nothing much no time. + +"I went to see my mother. I wrote and wrote, had my white folks write +till I found my folks. I went back several times. Mother died in 1902. +We used to could beat rides on freight trains--that was mighty +dangerous. We could work our way on the boats. I got to rambling trying +to do better. I come to Phillips County. They cut it up, named it Lee. I +got down in here and married. I was jus' rambling 'round. I been in Lee +County sixty-one years. I married toreckly after I come here. I been +married twice, both wives dead. I was about twenty-three years old when +I married. I had four children. My last child got killed. A limb fell on +him twenty years ago in April. He was grown and at work in the timber. + +"I farmed all my life--seventy years of it. I like it now and if I was +able I would not set up here in town a minute. Jus' till I could get out +there is all time it would take for me to get back to farming. I owned +two little places. I sold the first fifty acres when my wife was sick so +I could do for her. She died. My last wife got sick. I was no 'count and +had to quit work. Mr. Dupree built that little house for me, he said for +all I had done for 'im. He said it would be my home long as I live. He +keeps another old man living out there the same way. Mr. Dupree is +sick--in bad health--skin disease of some sort. We lives back behind +this house. Mr. Dupree is in this house now. (Mr. Dupree has eczema.) I +used to work for him on the farm and in the store. + +"I never was a drunkard. That is ruining this country. It is every +Saturday night trade and every day trade with some of them. No, but I +set here and see plenty. + +"The present times is better than it used to be 'cause people are +cleverer and considerate in way of living. A sixteen-year-old boy knows +a heap now. Five-year-old boy knows much as a ten-year-old boy used to +know. I don't think the world is going to pieces. It is advancing way I +see it. The Bible says we are to get weaker and wiser. Young folks not +much 'count now to do hard work. Some can. + +"I get eight dollars and I work about this place all I am able. It keeps +us both going." + + + + + + + + +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 THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11255 *** |