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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South Carolina,
+Part 1, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South Carolina, Part 1
+       A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From
+       Interviews with Former Slaves.
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: July 26, 2006 [EBook #18912]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES VOL. XIV. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Janet Blenkinship and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by the
+Library of Congress, Manuscript Division)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+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
+
+
+WASHINGTON 1941
+
+VOLUME XIV
+
+SOUTH CAROLINA NARRATIVES
+
+PART 1
+
+
+Prepared by the Federal Writers' Project of the Works Progress
+Administration for the State of South Carolina
+
++-----------------------------------------------------+
+|              TRANSCRIBER NOTES:                     |
+|To reflect the individual character of this document,|
+|inconsistencies in formatting have been retained.    |
+|                                                     |
+|[HW:  ] denotes a handwritten note.                  |
++-----------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+  INFORMANTS
+
+
+  Abrams, M. E.                                                        1
+
+  Adams, Ezra                                                          5
+
+  Adams, Mary                                                          9
+
+  Adams, Victoria                                                     10
+
+  Adamson, Frank                                                      13
+
+  Andrews, Frances                                                17, 18
+
+  Arthur, Pete                                                        19
+
+
+  Bacchus, Josephine                                                  20
+
+  Ballard, William                                                    26
+
+  Barber, Charley                                                     29
+
+  Barber, Ed                                                          34
+
+  Barber, Millie                                                      38
+
+  Bates, Anderson                                                     42
+
+  Bates, Millie                                                       46
+
+  Bees, Welcome                                                       48
+
+  Bell, Anne                                                          51
+
+  Bevis, Caroline                                                     55
+
+  Black, Maggie                                                       57
+
+  Bluford, Fordon                                                     62
+
+  Boulware, Samuel                                                    65
+
+  Boyd, John                                                          70
+
+  Bradley, Jane                                                       74
+
+  Brice, Andy                                                         75
+
+  Briggs, George                                              80, 89, 93
+
+  Bristow, Josephine                                                  98
+
+  Broome, Anne                                                       104
+
+  Brown, Hagar                                             107, 112, 115
+
+  Brown, Henry                                                  118, 122
+
+  Brown, John C.                                                     127
+
+  Brown, Mary Frances                                           131, 134
+
+  Brown, Sara                                                   137, 141
+
+  Bryant, Margaret                                                   143
+
+  Burrell, Savilla                                                   149
+
+  Burton, C. B.                                                      152
+
+  Butler, George Ann                                                 153
+
+  Butler, Isaiah                                                     155
+
+  Butler, Solbert                                                    161
+
+
+  Cain, Granny                                                  166, 168
+
+  Caldwell, Laura                                                    169
+
+  Caldwell, Solomon                                                  170
+
+  Cameron, Nelson                                                    172
+
+  Campbell, Thomas                                                   176
+
+  Cannon, Sylvia                                                180, 187
+
+  Caroline, Albert                                                   197
+
+  Chisolm, Silvia                                                    199
+
+  Chisolm, Tom                                                       201
+
+  Cleland, Maria                                                     204
+
+  Clifton, Peter                                                     205
+
+  Coleman, Henry                                                     210
+
+  Coleman, Rev. Tuff                                                 216
+
+  Collier, Louisa                                                    218
+
+  Collins, John                                                      224
+
+  Corry, Bouregard                                                   227
+
+  Craig, Caleb                                                       229
+
+  Cunningham, Dinah                                                  234
+
+
+  Daniels, Lucy                                                      238
+
+  Davenport, John N.                                                 240
+
+  Davenport, Moses                                                   244
+
+  Davis, Charlie                                                     245
+
+  Davis, Charlie                                                     250
+
+  Davis, Heddie                                                      254
+
+  Davis, Henry                                                       260
+
+  Davis, Jesse                                                       263
+
+  Davis, Lizzie                                            267, 288, 293
+
+  Davis, Louisa                                                      299
+
+  Davis, Wallace                                                304, 306
+
+  Davis, William Henry                                               308
+
+  Dawkins, Elias                                                     313
+
+  Dill, Will                                                         319
+
+  Dixon, Thomas                                                      324
+
+  Dorroh, Isabella                                                   326
+
+  Downing, Laurence                                                  329
+
+  Dozier, Washington                                                 330
+
+  Duke, Alice                                                        336
+
+  Durant, Silva (Sylvia)                                        337, 342
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  From Field Notes.
+  District No. 4.
+  April 27, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (Negro).
+
+
+"Marse Glenn had 64 slaves. On Sat'day night, de darkies would have a
+little fun on de side. A way off from de big house, down in de pastur'
+dar wuz about de bigges' gully what I is ebber seed. Dat wuz de place
+whar us collected mos' ev'ry Sa'day night fer our lil' mite o' fun frum
+de white folks hearin'. Sometime it wuz so dark dat you could not see de
+fingers on yo' han' when you would raise it fo' your face. Dem wuz sho'
+schreechy nights; de schreechiest what I is ever witnessed, in all o' my
+born natu'al days. Den of cose, dar wuz de moonlight nights when a darky
+could see; den he see too much. De pastur' wuz big and de trees made
+dark spots in it on de brightest nights. All kind o' varmints tuck and
+hollered at ye as ye being gwine along to reach dat gully. Cose us would
+go in droves sometime, and den us would go alone to de gully sometime.
+When us started together, look like us would git parted 'fo we reach de
+gully all together. One of us see som'tin and take to runnin'. Maybe de
+other darkies in de drove, de wouldn't see nothin' jes den. Dats zactly
+how it is wid de spirits. De mout (might) sho de'self to you and not to
+me. De acts raal queer all de way round. Dey can take a notion to scare
+de daylights outtin you when you is wid a gang; or dey kin scare de
+whole gang; den, on de other hand, dey kin sho de'self off to jes two or
+three. It ain't never no knowin' as to how and when dem things is gwine
+to come in your path right fo your very eyes; specially when you is
+partakin' in some raal dark secret whar you is planned to act raal sof'
+and quiet like all de way through.
+
+"Dem things bees light on dark nights; de shines de'self jes like dese
+'lectric lights does out dar in dat street ever' night, 'cept dey is a
+scaird waary light dat dey shines wid. On light nights, I is seed dem
+look, furs dark like a tree shad'er; den dey gits raal scairy white.
+T'aint no use fer white folks to low dat it ain't no haints, an'
+grievements dat follows ye all around, kaise I is done had to many
+'spriences wid dem. Den dare is dese young niggers what ain't fit to be
+called darkies, dat tries to ac' eddicated, and says dat it ain't any
+spe'rits dat walks de earth. When dey lows dat to me, I rolls my old
+eyes at dem an' axes dem how comes dey runs so fas' through de woods at
+night. Yes sirree, dem fool niggers sees dem jes as I does. Raaly de
+white folks doesn't have eyes fer sech as we darkies does; but dey bees
+dare jes de same.
+
+"Never mindin' all o' dat, we n'used to steal our hog ever' sa'day night
+and take off to de gully whar us'd git him dressed and barbecued.
+Niggers has de mos'es fun at a barbecue dat dare is to be had. As none
+o' our gang didn't have no 'ligion, us never felt no scruples bout not
+gettin de 'cue' ready fo' Sunday. Us'd git back to de big house along in
+de evenin' o' Sunday. Den Marse, he come out in de yard an' low whar wuz
+you niggers dis mornin'. How come de chilluns had to do de work round
+here. Us would tell some lie bout gwine to a church 'siety meetin'. But
+we got raal scairt and mose 'cided dat de best plan wuz to do away wid
+de barbecue in de holler. Conjin 'Doc.' say dat he done put a spell on
+ole Marse so dat he wuz 'blevin ev'y think dat us tole him bout Sa'day
+night and Sunday morning. Dat give our minds 'lief; but it turned out
+dat in a few weeks de Marse come out from under de spell. Doc never
+even knowed nothin' bout it. Marse had done got to countin' his hogs
+ever' week. When he cotch us, us wuz all punished wid a hard long task.
+Dat cured me o' believing in any conjuring an' charmin' but I still
+kno's dat dare is haints; kaise ever time you goes to dat gully at
+night, up to dis very day, you ken hear hogs still gruntin' in it, but
+you can't see nothing.
+
+"After Marse Glenn tuck and died, all o' de white folks went off and
+lef' de plantation. Some mo' folks dat wuz not o' quality, come to live
+dare an' run de plantation. It wuz done freedom den. Wo'nt long fo dem
+folks pull up and lef' raal onexpected like. I doesn't recollect what
+dey went by, fat is done slipped my mind; but I must 'av knowed. But dey
+lowed dat de house wuz to draffy and dat dey couldn't keep de smoke in
+de chimney an' dat de doo's would not stay shet. Also dey lowed dat
+folks prowled aroun' in de yard in de night time a keepin' dem awake.
+
+"Den Marse Glenn's boys put Mammy in de house to keep it fer 'em. But
+Lawd God! Mammy said dat de furs night she stayed dare de haints nebber
+let her git not narr'y mite o' sleep. Us all had lowed dat wuz de raal
+reason dem white folks lef out so fas'. When Mammy could not live in dat
+big house whar she had stayed fer years, it won't no use fer nobody else
+to try. Mammy low dat it de Marse a lookin' fer his money what he done
+tuck and burried and de boys couldn't find no sign o' it. Atter dat, de
+sons tuck an' tacked a sign on de front gate, offering $200.00 to de
+man, white or black, dat would stay dar and fin' out whar dat money wuz
+burried. Our preacher, the Rev. Wallace, lowed dat he would stay dar and
+find out whar dat money wuz from de spirits. He knowed dat dey wuz tryin
+to sho de spot what dat money wuz.
+
+"He went to bed. A dog began running down dem steps; and a black cat run
+across de room dat turned to white befo' it run into de wall. Den a pair
+of white horses come down de stairway a rattling chains fer harness.
+Next a woman dressed in white come in dat room. Brother Wallace up and
+lit out dat house and he never went back no mo'.
+
+"Another preacher tried stayin' dar. He said he gwine to keep his head
+kivered plum up. Some'tin unkivered it and he seed a white goat a
+grinnin' at him. But as he wuz a brave man and trus' de Lawd, he lowed,
+'What you want wid me nohow?' The goat said, 'what is you doin' here.
+Raise, I knows dat you ain't sleep.' De preacher say, 'I wants you to
+tell me what ole Marse don tuck and hid dat money?' De goat grin and
+low, 'How come you don' look under your pillar, sometime?' Den he run
+away. De preacher hopped up and looked under de pillar, and dar wuz de
+money sho nuf. Peers like it wuz de one on de lef' end o' de back porch,
+but I jes remembers 'bout dat."
+
+Source: Mrs. M. E. Abrams, Whitmire, S. C.; told her by old "uncle"
+"Mad" Griffin, Whitmire, (Col. 82 yrs.) Interviewer: Caldwell Sims,
+Union, S. C. 2/25/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Henry Grant
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  REFLECTIONS OF EZRA ADAMS
+  EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD
+
+
+Ezra Adams is incapable of self-support, owing to ill health. He is very
+well taken care of by a niece, who lives on the Caughman land just off
+S. C. #6, and near Swansea, S. C.
+
+"My mammy and pappy b'long to Marster Lawrence Adams, who had a big
+plantation in de eastern part of Lancaster County. He died four years
+after de Civil War and is buried right dere on de old plantation, in de
+Adams family burying grounds. I was de oldest of de five chillun in our
+family. I 'members I was a right smart size plowboy, when freedom come.
+I think I must of been 'bout ten or eleven years old, then. Dere's one
+thing I does know; de Yankees didn't tech our plantation, when they come
+through South Carolina. Up in de northern part of de county they sho'
+did destroy most all what folks had.
+
+"You ain't gwine to believe dat de slaves on our plantation didn't stop
+workin' for old marster, even when they was told dat they was free. Us
+didn't want no more freedom than us was gittin' on our plantation
+already. Us knowed too well dat us was well took care of, wid a plenty
+of vittles to eat and tight log and board houses to live in. De slaves,
+where I lived, knowed after de war dat they had abundance of dat
+somethin' called freedom, what they could not wat, wear, and sleep in.
+Yes, sir, they soon found out dat freedom ain't nothin', 'less you is
+got somethin' to live on and a place to call home. Dis livin' on liberty
+is lak young folks livin' on love after they gits married. It just don't
+work. No, sir, it las' so long and not a bit longer. Don't tell me! It
+sho' don't hold good when you has to work, or when you gits hongry. You
+knows dat poor white folks and niggers has got to work to live,
+regardless of liberty, love, and all them things. I believes a person
+loves more better, when they feels good. I knows from experience dat
+poor folks feels better when they has food in deir frame and a few dimes
+to jingle in deir pockets. I knows what it means to be a nigger, wid
+nothin'. Many times I had to turn every way I knowed to git a bite to
+eat. I didn't care much 'bout clothes. What I needed in sich times was
+food to keep my blood warm and gwine 'long.
+
+"Boss, I don't want to think, and I knows I ain't gwine to say a word,
+not a word of evil against deir dust lyin' over yonder in deir graves. I
+was old enough to know what de passin' 'way of old marster and missus
+meant to me. De very stream of lifeblood in me was dryin' up, it 'peared
+lak. When marster died, dat was my fust real sorrow. Three years later,
+missus passed 'way, dat was de time of my second sorrow. Then, I 'minded
+myself of a little tree out dere in de woods in November. Wid every
+sharp and cold wind of trouble dat blowed, more leaves of dat tree turnt
+loose and went to de ground, just lak they was tryin' to follow her. It
+seem lak, when she was gone, I was just lak dat tree wid all de leaves
+gone, naked and friendless. It took me a long time to git over all dat;
+same way wid de little tree, it had to pass through winter and wait on
+spring to see life again.
+
+"I has farmed 'most all my life and, if I was not so old, I would be
+doin' dat same thing now. If a poor man wants to enjoy a little freedom,
+let him go on de farm and work for hisself. It is sho' worth somethin'
+to be boss, and, on de farm you can be boss all you want to, 'less de
+man 'low his wife to hold dat 'portant post. A man wid a good wife, one
+dat pulls wid him, can see and feel some pleasure and experience some
+independence. But, bless your soul, if he gits a woman what wants to be
+both husband and wife, fare-you-well and good-bye, too, to all love,
+pleasure, and independence; 'cause you sho' is gwine to ketch hell here
+and no mild climate whenever you goes 'way. A bad man is worse, but a
+bad woman is almost terrible.
+
+"White man, dere is too many peoples in dese big towns and cities. Dere
+is more of them than dere is jobs to make a livin' wid. When some of
+them find out dat they can't make a livin', they turns to mischief, de
+easy way they thinks, takin' widout pay or work, dat which b'longs to
+other people. If I understands right, de fust sin dat was committed in
+de world was de takin' of somethin' dat didn't b'long to de one what
+took it. De gentleman what done dis was dat man Adam, back yonder in de
+garden. If what Adam done back yonder would happen now, he would be
+guilty of crime. Dat's how 'ciety names sin. Well, what I got to say is
+dis: If de courts, now, would give out justice and punishment as quick
+as dat what de Good Master give to Adam, dere would be less crime in de
+land I believes. But I 'spose de courts would be better if they had de
+same jurisdiction as de Master has. Yes, sir, they would be gwine some
+then.
+
+"I tells you, dis gittin' what don't b'long to you is de main cause of
+dese wars and troubles 'bout over dis world now. I hears de white folks
+say dat them Japanese is doin' dis very thing today in fightin' them
+Chinamens. Japan say dat China has done a terrible crime against them
+and de rest of de world, when it ain't nothin' but dat they wants
+somethin' what don't belong to them, and dat somethin' is to git more
+country. I may be wrong, anyhow, dat is what I has heard.
+
+"What does I think de colored people need most? If you please sir, I
+want to say dis. I ain't got much learnin', 'cause dere was no schools
+hardly 'round where I was brung up, but I thinks dat good teachers and
+work is what de colored race needs worser than anything else. If they
+has learnin', they will be more ashame to commit crime, most of them
+will be; and, if they has work to do, they ain't gwine to have time to
+do so much wrong. Course dere is gwine to be black sheeps in most
+flocks, and it is gwine to take patience to git them out, but they will
+come out, just as sho' as you is born.
+
+"Is de colored people superstitious? Listen at dat. You makes me laugh.
+All dat foolishness fust started wid de black man. De reason they is
+superstitious comes from nothin' but stomp-down ignorance. De white
+chillun has been nursed by colored women and they has told them stories
+'bout hants and sich lak. So de white chillun has growed up believin'
+some of dat stuff 'til they natchally pass it on from generation to
+generation. Here we is, both white and colored, still believin' some of
+them lies started back when de whites fust come to have de blacks 'round
+them.
+
+"If you wants to know what I thinks is de best vittles, I's gwine to be
+obliged to omit (admit) dat it is cabbage sprouts in de spring, and it
+is collard greens after frost has struck them. After de best vittles,
+dere come some more what is mighty tasty, and they is hoghead and
+chittlings wid 'tatoes and turnips. Did you see dat? Here I is talkin'
+'bout de joys of de appetite and water drapping from my mouth. I sho'
+must be gittin' hongry. I lak to eat. I has been a good eater all my
+life, but now I is gittin' so old dat 'cordin' to de scriptures, 'De
+grinders cease 'cause they are few', and too, 'Those dat look out de
+windows be darkened'. My old eyes and teeth is 'bout gone, and if they
+does go soon, they ain't gwine to beat dis old frame long, 'cause I is
+gwine to soon follow, I feels. I hope when I does go, I can be able to
+say what dat great General Stonewall Jackson say when he got kilt in de
+Civil War, 'I is gwine to cross de river and rest under de shade of de
+trees'."
+
+[~HW: Ezra Adams, Swansea (about 10m. south of Columbia)~]
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1.
+  Folk Lore
+  District No. 4.
+  May 27, 1937.
+  Edited by: J. J. Murray.
+
+  EX-SLAVE STORIES
+
+
+"Aunt" Mary Adams was swinging easily back and forth in the porch swing
+as the writer stopped to speak to her. When questioned, she replied that
+she and her mother were ex-slaves and had belonged to Dr. C. E. Fleming.
+She was born in Columbia, but they were moved to Glenn Springs where her
+mother cooked for Dr. Fleming.
+
+She remembers going with a white woman whose husband was in jail, to
+carry him something to eat. She said that Mr. Jim Milster was in that
+jail, but he lived to get out, and later kept a tin shop in Spartanburg.
+
+"Yes sir, Dr. Fleming always kept enough for us Niggers to eat during
+the war. He was good to us. You know he married Miss Dean. Do you know
+Mrs. Lyles, Mrs. Simpson, Mr. Ed Fleming? Well, dey are my chilluns.
+
+"Some man here told me one day that I was ninety years old, but I do not
+believe I am quite that old. I don't know how old I am, but I was
+walking during slavery times. I can't work now, for my feet hurt me and
+my fingers ain't straight."
+
+She said all of her children were dead but two, that she knew of. She
+said that she had a room in that house and white people gave her
+different things. As the writer told her good-bye, she said, "Good-bye,
+and may the Lord bless you".
+
+  Source: "Aunt" Mary Adams, 363 S. Liberty Street, Spartanburg, S. C.
+          Interviewer: F. S. DuPre, Spartanburg, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Everett R. Pierce
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  VICTORIA ADAMS
+  EX-SLAVE 90 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"You ask me to tell you something 'bout myself and de slaves in slavery
+times? Well Missy, I was borned a slave, nigh on to ninety years ago,
+right down here at Cedar Creek, in Fairfield County.
+
+"My massa's name was Samuel Black and missus was named Martha. She used
+to be Martha Kirkland befo' she married. There was five chillun in de
+family; they was: Alice, Manning, Sally, Kirkland, and de baby, Eugene.
+De white folks live in a great big house up on a hill; it was right
+pretty, too.
+
+"You wants to know how large de plantation was I lived on? Well, I don't
+know 'zackly but it was mighty large. There was forty of us slaves in
+all and it took all of us to keep de plantation goin'. De most of de
+niggers work in de field. They went to work as soon as it git light
+enough to see how to git 'round; then when twelve o'clock come, they all
+stops for dinner and don't go back to work 'til two. All of them work on
+'til it git almost dark. No ma'am, they ain't do much work at night
+after they gits home.
+
+"Massa Samuel ain't had no overseer, he look after his own plantation.
+My old granddaddy help him a whole heap though. He was a good nigger and
+massa trust him.
+
+"After de crops was all gathered, de slaves still had plenty of work to
+do. I stayed in de house wid de white folks. De most I had to do was to
+keep de house clean up and nurse de chillun. I had a heap of pretty
+clothes to wear, 'cause my missus give me de old clothes and shoes dat
+Missy Sally throw 'way.
+
+"De massa and missus was good to me but sometime I was so bad they had
+to whip me. I 'members she used to whip me every time she tell me to do
+something and I take too long to move 'long and do it. One time my
+missus went off on a visit and left me at home. When she come back,
+Sally told her that I put on a pair of Bubber's pants and scrub de floor
+wid them on. Missus told me it was a sin for me to put on a man's pants,
+and she whip me pretty bad. She say it's in de Bible dat: 'A man shall
+not put on a woman's clothes, nor a woman put on a man's clothes'. I
+ain't never see that in de Bible though, but from then 'til now, I ain't
+put on no more pants.
+
+"De grown-up slaves was punished sometime too. When they didn't feel
+like taking a whippin' they went off in de woods and stay 'til massa's
+hounds track them down; then they'd bring them out and whip them. They
+might as well not run away. Some of them never come back a-tall, don't
+know what become of them. We ain't had no jail for slaves; never ain't
+see none in chains neither. There was a guard-house right in de town but
+us niggers never was carried to it. You ask me if I ever see a slave
+auctioned off? Yes ma'am, one time. I see a little girl 'bout ten years
+old sold to a soldier man. Dis soldier man was married and didn't had no
+chillun and he buy dis little girl to be company for his wife and to
+help her wid de house work.
+
+"White folks never teach us to read nor write much. They learned us our
+A, B, C's, and teach us to read some in de testament. De reason they
+wouldn't teach us to read and write, was 'cause they was afraid de
+slaves would write their own pass and go over to a free county. One old
+nigger did learn enough to write his pass and got 'way wid it and went
+up North.
+
+"Missus Martha sho' did look after de slaves good when they was sick. Us
+had medicine made from herbs, leaves and roots; some of them was
+cat-nip, garlic root, tansy, and roots of burdock. De roots of burdock
+soaked in whiskey was mighty good medicine. We dipped asafetida in
+turpentine and hung it 'round our necks to keep off disease.
+
+"Befo' de Yankees come thru, our peoples had let loose a lot of our
+hosses and de hosses strayed over to de Yankee side, and de Yankee men
+rode de hosses back over to our plantation. De Yankees asked us if we
+want to be free. I never say I did; I tell them I want to stay wid my
+missus and they went on and let me alone. They 'stroyed most everything
+we had 'cept a little vittles; took all de stock and take them wid them.
+They burned all de buildings 'cept de one de massa and missus was livin'
+in.
+
+"It wasn't long after de Yankees went thru dat our missus told us dat we
+don't b'long to her and de massa no more. None of us left dat season. I
+got married de next year and left her. I like being free more better.
+Any niggers what like slavery time better, is lazy people dat don't want
+to do nothing.
+
+"I married Fredrick Adams; he used to b'long to Miss Tenny Graddick but
+after he was freed he had to take another name. Mr. Jess Adams, a good
+fiddler dat my husband like to hang 'round, told him he could take his
+name if he wanted to and dats how he got de name of Adams. Us had four
+chillun; only one livin', dat Lula. She married John Entzminger and got
+several chillun. My gran'chillun a heap of comfort to me."
+
+  Home Address:
+  Colonial Heights,
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  FRANK ADAMSON
+  EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"I 'members when you was barefoot at de bottom; now I see you a settin'
+dere, gittin' bare at de top, as bare as de palm of my hand.
+
+"I's been 'possum huntin' wid your pappy, when he lived on de Wateree,
+just after de war. One night us got into tribulation, I tells you! 'Twas
+'bout midnight when de dogs make a tree. Your pappy climb up de tree,
+git 'bout halfway up, heard sumpin' dat once you hears it you never
+forgits, and dats de rattlin' of de rattles on a rattle snake's tail. Us
+both 'stinctly hear dat sound! What us do? Me on de ground, him up de
+tree, but where de snake? Dat was de misery, us didn't know. Dat snake
+give us fair warnin' though! Marster Sam (dats your pa) 'low: 'Frank,
+ease down on de ground; I'll just stay up here for a while.' I lay on
+them leaves, skeered to make a russle. Your pa up de tree skeered to go
+up or down! Broad daylight didn't move us. Sun come up, he look all
+'round from his vantage up de tree, then come down, not 'til then, do I
+gits on my foots.
+
+"Then I laugh and laugh and laugh, and ask Marster Sam how he felt.
+Marster Sam kinda frown and say: 'Damn I feels like hell! Git up dat
+tree! Don't you see dat 'possum up dere?' I say: 'But where de snake,
+Marster?' He say: 'Dat rattler done gone home, where me and you and dat
+'possum gonna be pretty soon!'
+
+"I b'longs to de Peays. De father of them all was, Korshaw Peay. My
+marster was his son, Nicholas; he was a fine man to just look at. My
+mistress was always tellin' him 'bout how fine and handsome-like he was.
+He must of got use to it; howsomever, marster grin every time she talk
+like dat.
+
+"My pappy was bought from de Adamson peoples; they say they got him off
+de ship from Africa. He sho' was a man; he run all de other niggers 'way
+from my mammy and took up wid her widout askin' de marster. Her name was
+Lavinia. When us got free, he 'sisted on Adamson was de name us would go
+by. He name was William Adamson. Yes sir! my brothers was: Justus,
+Hillyard, and Donald, and my sisters was, Martha and Lizzettie.
+
+"'Deed I did work befo' freedom. What I do? Hoed cotton, pick cotton,
+'tend to calves and slop de pigs, under de 'vision of de overseer. Who
+he was? First one name Mr. Cary, he a good man. Another one Mr. Tim
+Gladden, burn you up whenever he just take a notion to pop his whip. Us
+boys run 'round in our shirt tails. He lak to see if he could lift de
+shirt tail widout techin' de skin. Just as often as not, though, he tech
+de skin. Little boy holler and Marster Tim laugh.
+
+"Us live in quarters. Our beds was nailed to de sides of de house. Most
+of de chillun slept on pallets on de floor. Got water from a big spring.
+
+"De white folks 'tend to you all right. Us had two doctors, Doctor
+Carlisle and Doctor James.
+
+"I see some money, but never own any then. Had plenty to eat: Meat,
+bread, milk, lye hominy, horse apples, turnips, collards, pumpkins, and
+dat kind of truck.
+
+"Was marster rich? How come he wasn't? He brag his land was ten miles
+square and he had a thousand slaves. Them poor white folks looked up to
+him lak God Almighty; they sho' did. They would have stuck their hands
+in de fire if he had of asked them to do it. He had a fish pond on top
+of de house and terraces wid strawberries, all over de place. See them
+big rock columns down dere now? Dats all dats left of his grandness and
+greatness. They done move de whippin' post dat was in de backyard. Yes
+sah, it was a 'cessity wid them niggers. It stood up and out to 'mind
+them dat if they didn't please de master and de overseer, they'd hug dat
+post, and de lend of dat whip lash gwine to flip to de hide of dat back
+of their's.
+
+"I ain't a complainin'. He was a good master, bestest in de land, but he
+just have to have a whippin' post, 'cause you'll find a whole passle of
+bad niggers when you gits a thousand of them in one flock.
+
+"Screech owl holler? Women and men turn socks and stockings wrong side
+out quick, dat they did, do it now, myself. I's black as a crow but I's
+got a white folks heart. Didn't ketch me foolin' 'round wid niggers in
+radical times. I's as close to white folks then as peas in a pod. Wore
+de red shirt and drunk a heap of brandy in Columbia, dat time us went
+down to General Hampton into power. I 'clare I hollered so loud goin'
+'long in de procession, dat a nice white lady run out one of de houses
+down dere in Columbia, give me two biscuits and a drum stick of chicken,
+patted me on de shoulder, and say: 'Thank God for all de big black men
+dat can holler for Governor Hampton as loud as dis one does.' Then I
+hollers some more for to please dat lady, though I had to take de half
+chawed chicken out dis old mouth, and she laugh 'bout dat 'til she
+cried. She did!
+
+"Well, I'll be rockin' 'long balance of dese days, a hollerin' for Mr.
+Roosevelt, just as loud as I holler then for Hampton.
+
+"My young marsters was: Austin, Tom, and Nicholas; they was all right
+'cept they tease you too hard maybe some time, and want to mix in wid de
+'fairs of slave 'musements.
+
+"Now what make you ask dat? Did me ever do any courtin'? You knows I
+did. Every he thing from a he king down to a bunty rooster gits cited
+'bout she things. I's lay wake many nights 'bout sich things. It's de
+nature of a he, to take after de she. They do say dat a he angel ain't
+got dis to worry 'bout.
+
+"I fust courted Martha Harrison. Us marry and jine de church. Us had
+nine chillun; seven of them livin'. A woman can't stand havin' chillun,
+lak a man. Carryin', sucklin', and 'tending to them wore her down, dat,
+wid de malaria of de Wateree brung her to her grave.
+
+"I sorrow over her for weeks, maybe five months, then I got to thinking
+how I'd pair up wid dis one and dat one and de other one. Took to
+shavin' again and gwine to Winnsboro every Saturday, and different
+churches every Sunday. I hear a voice from de choir, one Sunday, dat
+makes me sit up and take notice of de gal on de off side in front. Well
+sir! a spasm of fright fust hit me dat I might not git her, dat I was
+too old for de likes of her, and dat some no 'count nigger might be in
+de way. In a few minutes I come to myself. I rise right up, walked into
+dat choir, stand by her side, and wid dis voice of mine, dat always
+'tracts 'tention, jined in de hymn and out sung them all. It was easy
+from dat time on.
+
+"I marry Kate at de close of dat revival. De day after de weddin', what
+you reckon? Don't know? Well, after gittin' breakfas' she went to de
+field, poke 'round her neck, basket on her head and picked two hundred
+pounds of cotton. Dats de kind of woman she is."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1815-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  June 10, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Newberry County, S. C., near Belfast, about 1854. I was a
+slave of John Wallace. I was the only child, and when a small child, my
+mother was sold to Joe Liggins by my old master, Bob Adams. It is said
+that the old brick house where the Wallaces lived was built by a
+Eichleberger, but Dr. John Simpson lived there and sold it to Mr.
+Wallace. In the attic was an old skeleton which the children thought
+bewitched the house. None of them would go upstairs by themselves. I
+suppose old Dr. Simpson left it there. Sometimes later, it was taken out
+and buried. Marse Wallace had many slaves and kept them working, but he
+was not a strict master.
+
+"I married Allen Andrews after the war. He went to the war with his
+master. He was at Columbia with the Confederate troops when Sherman
+burnt the place. Some of them, my husband included, was captured and
+taken to Richmond Va. They escaped and walked back home, but all but
+five or six fell out or died.
+
+"My young master, Editor Bill Wallace, a son of Marse John, was a
+soldier. When he was sick at home, I fanned the flies from him with a
+home-made fan of peacock feathers, sewed to a long cane.
+
+"After the war, the 'bush-whackers', called Ku Klux, rode there.
+Preacher Pitts' brother was one. They went to negro houses and killed
+the people. They wore caps over the head and eyes, but no long white
+gowns. An old muster ground was above there about three miles, near what
+is now Wadsworth school."
+
+  Source: Frances Andrews (col. 83), Newberry, S. C
+          Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  Sept. 22, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I live in a comfortable two-room cottage which my son owns. I can't do
+much work except a little washing and ironing. My grandchildren live
+with me. My other children help me a little when I need it. I heard
+about the 40 acres of land and a mule the ex-slaves would get after the
+war, but I didn't pay any attention to it. They never got anything. I
+think this was put out by the Yankees who didn't care about much 'cept
+getting money for themselves.
+
+"I come from the Indian Creek section of Newberry County. After about
+1880 when things got natural, some of the slaves from this section
+rented small one-horse farms and made their own money and living. Some
+would rent small tracts of land on shares, giving the landlord one-half
+the crop for use of the land.
+
+"Everything is changed so much. I never learned to read and write and
+all I know is what I heard in old times. But I think the younger
+generation of negroes is different from what they used to be. They go
+where they want to and do what they want to and don't pay much attention
+to old folks anymore.
+
+"My mother's mother come from Virginia and my mother's father was born
+and raised in this county. I don't remember anything about the Nat
+Turner Rebellion, and never heard anything about it. We never had any
+slave up-risings in our neighborhood."
+
+  Source: Frances Andrews (83), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 8/11/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  District No. 4
+  May 27, 1937.
+  Edited by
+  R. V. Williams
+  [~HW: Lambrigh~]
+
+  Folk Lore: Folk Tales (negro)
+
+
+"I was 'bout nine year ole when de big war broke loose. My pa and ma
+'longed to de Scotts what libbed in Jonesville Township. When I got big
+'nough to work, I was gib to de youngest Scott boy. Soon atter dis,
+Sherman come through Union County. No ma'm, I nebber seed Sherman but I
+seed some of his soldiers. Dat's de time I run off in de wood and not
+narry a soul knowed whar I was till de dus' had done settled in de big
+road.
+
+"Every Sunday, Marse Scott sent us to church in one of his waggins.
+White folks rid to church in de buggy and Marse went on de big saddle
+hoss. 'Bout dis time, Marse Scott went to Columbia to git coffee and
+sugar. He stay mos' two weeks, kaize he drive two fine hosses to de
+buggy 'long wid a long hind end to fetch things to and fro in. De roads
+was real muddy and de hosses haf to res' ever night. Den in Columbia, he
+would have a little 'joyment befo' he come back home."
+
+Source: Miss Dorothy Lambright, W. Main St., Union, S. C. (Story told
+her by "Uncle Peter" Arthur.) Information by Caldwell Sims, Union, S.
+C.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, January 4, 1938
+  No. of Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  JOSEPHINE BACCHUS
+  Ex-Slave, 75-80 Years
+
+
+"No, my mercy God, I don' know not one thought to speak to you bout.
+Seems like, I does know your face, but I been so sick all de year dat I
+can' hardly remember nothin. Yes, sweetheart, I sho caught on to what
+you want. Oh, I wishes I did know somethin bout dat old time war cause I
+tell you, if I been know anything, I would sho pour it out to you. I got
+burn out here de other day en I ain' got near a thing left me, but a
+pair of stockings en dat old coat dere on de bed. Dat how-come I stayin
+here wid Miss Celia. My husband, he dead en she took me in over here for
+de present. No'um, I haven't never had a nine months child. Reckon dat
+what ailin me now. Bein dat I never had no mother to care for me en give
+me a good attention like, I caught so much of cold dat I ain' never been
+safe in de family way. Yes, mam, I had my leg broke plenty times, but I
+ain' never been able to jump de time. Lord, I got a misery in my back
+dere. I hope it ain' de pneumonias."
+
+"Well, you see, I couldn' tell you nothin bout my mother cause I never
+didn' know nothin bout my mother. My Jesus, my brother tell bout when
+dey had my mother layin out on de coolin board, I went in de room whe'
+she was en axed her for somethin to eat en pushed her head dat way. You
+know, I wouldn' touch my hand to do nothin like dat, but I never know.
+Dat it, de coolin board, dat what dey used to have to lay all de dead
+people on, but dis day en time, de undertaker takes dem en fixes dem up
+right nice, I say. I tellin you, I ain' had no sense since I lost my
+people. Sometimes, I axes de Lord what he keepin me here for anyhow.
+Yes, mam, dat does come to me often times in de night. Oh, it don' look
+like I gwine ever get no better in dis life en if I don', I just prays
+to God to be saved. Yes, Lord, I prays to be lifted to a restful home."
+
+"Just like as I been hear talk, some of de people fare good in slavery
+time en some of dem fare rough. Dat been accordin to de kind of task
+boss dey come up under. Now de poor colored people in slavery time, dey
+give dem very little rest en would whip some of dem most to death.
+Wouldn' none of dem daresen to go from one plantation to another widout
+dey had a furlough from dey boss. Yes, mam, if dey been catch you comin
+back widout dat walkin paper de boss had give you, great Jeruseleum, you
+would sho catch de devil next mornin. My blessed a mercy, hear talk dey
+spill de poor nigger's blood awful much in slavery time. Hear heap of
+dem was free long time fore dey been know it cause de white folks, dey
+wanted to keep dem in bondage. Oh, my Lord, dey would cut dem so hard
+till dey just slash de flesh right off dem. Yes, mam, dey call dat thing
+dey been whip dem wid de cat o' nine tail. No, darlin, I hear talk it
+been made out of pretty leather plaited most all de way en den all dat
+part down to de bottom, dey just left it loose to do de cuttin wid. Yes,
+honey, dem kind of whips was made out of pretty leather like one of dese
+horse whips. Yes, mam, dat been how it was in slavery time."
+
+"Yankees! Oh, I hear folks speak bout de Yankees plunderin through de
+country plenty times. Hear bout de Yankees gwine all bout stealin white
+people silver. Say, everywhe' dey went en found white folks wid silver,
+dey would just clean de place up. Dat de blessed truth, too, cause dat
+exactly what I hear bout dem."
+
+"Lord, pray Jesus, de white people sho been mighty proud to see dey
+niggers spreadin out in dem days, so dey tell me. Yes, mam, dey was glad
+to have a heap of colored people bout dem cause white folks couldn' work
+den no more den dey can work dese days like de colored people can.
+Reckon dey love to have dey niggers back yonder just like dey loves to
+have dem dese days to do what dey ain' been cut out to do. You see, dey
+would have two or three women on de plantation dat was good breeders en
+dey would have chillun pretty regular fore freedom come here. You know,
+some people does be right fast in catchin chillun. Yes'um, dey must been
+bless wid a pile of dem, I say, en every colored person used to follow
+up de same name as dey white folks been hear to."
+
+"No'um, I never didn' go to none of dem cornshuckin en fodder pullin en
+all dem kind of thing. Reckon while dey was at de cornshuckin, I must
+been somewhe' huntin somethin to eat. Den dem kind of task was left to
+de men folks de most of de time cause it been so hot, dey was force to
+strip to do dat sort of a job."
+
+"Lord, I sho remembers dat earth shake good as anything. When it come on
+me, I was settin down wid my foots in a tub of water. Yes, my Lord, I
+been had a age on me in de shake. I remember, dere been such a shakin
+dat evenin, it made all de people feel mighty queer like. It just come
+in a tremble en first thing I know, I felt de difference in de crack of
+de house. I run to my sister Jessie cause she had been live in New York
+en she was well acquainted wid dat kind of gwine on. She say, 'Josie,
+dis ain' nothin but dem shake I been tellin you bout, but dis de first
+time it come here en you better be a prayin.' En, honey, everything
+white en colored was emptied out of doors dat night. Lord, dey was
+scared. Great Jeruseleum! De people was scared everywhe'. Didn' nobody
+know what to make of it. I tellin you, I betcha I was 30 years old in de
+shake."
+
+"Now, I guess time you get done gettin up all dem memorandums, you gwine
+have a pile. I tell you, if you keep on, you sho gwine have a bale cause
+dere a lot of slavery people is spring up till now. I ought to could
+fetch back more to speak to you bout, but just like I been tell you, I
+wasn' never cared for by a mother en I is caught on to a heap of
+roughness just on account dat I ain' never had a mother to have a care
+for me."
+
+"Oh, de people never didn' put much faith to de doctors in dem days.
+Mostly, dey would use de herbs in de fields for dey medicine. Dere two
+herbs, I hear talk of. Dey was black snake root en Sampson snake root.
+Say, if a person never had a good appetite, dey would boil some of dat
+stuff en mix it wid a little whiskey en rock candy en dat would sho give
+dem a sharp appetite. See, it natural cause if you take a tablespoon of
+dat bitter medicine three times a day like a person tell you, it bound
+to swell your appetite. Yes, mam, I know dat a mighty good mixture."
+
+"Oh, my Lord, child, de people was sho wiser in olden times den what dey
+be now. Dey been have all kind of signs to forecast de times wid en dey
+been mighty true to de word, too. Say, when you hear a cow low en cry so
+mournful like, it ain' gwine be long fore you hear tell of a death."
+
+"Den dere one bout de rain. Say, sometimes de old rain crow stays in de
+air en hollers en if you don' look right sharp, it gwine rain soon. Call
+him de rain crow. He hollers mostly like dis, 'Goo-oop, goo-oop.' Like
+dat."
+
+"De people used to have a bird for cold weather, too. Folks say, 'Don'
+you hear dat cold bird? Look out, it gwine be cold tomorrow.' De cold
+bird, he a brown bird. If you can see him, he a fine lookin bird, too.
+Yes'um, right large en strong lookin, but don' nobody hardly ever see
+him dese days."
+
+"En I reckon you hear talk bout dis one. Say, not to wash on de first
+day of de New Year cause if you do, you will wash some of your family
+out de pot. Say, somebody will sho die. Dat right, too. Den if possible,
+must boil some old peas on de first day of de New Year en must cook some
+hog jowl in de pot wid dem. Must eat some of it, but don' be obliged to
+eat it all. En ought to have everything clean up nicely so as to keep
+clean all de year. Say, must always put de wash out on de line to be
+sure de day fore New Years en have all your garments clean."
+
+"What my ideas bout de young folks dese days? Well, dey young folks en
+dey ain' young folks, I say. Cose I don' bother up wid dem none, but I
+think wid my own weak judgment, dey quite different from when I come
+along. Folks is awful funny dis day en time to my notion. Don' care what
+people see dem do no time. I sho think dey worser den what dey used to
+be. De way I say dey worser, I used to have to be back at such en such a
+time, if I went off, but now dey go anytime dey want to en dey comes
+back anytime dey want to. I sho think dey worser. De fact of it, I know
+dey worser."
+
+  Source: Josephine Bacchus, colored, age 75-80, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  June 14, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born near Winnsboro, S. C., Fairfield County. I was twelve years
+old the year the Confederate war started. My father was John Ballard and
+my mother was Sallie Ballard. I had several brothers and sisters. We
+belonged to Jim Aiken, a large landowner at Winnsboro. He owned land on
+which the town was built. He had seven plantations. He was good to us
+and give us plenty to eat, and good quarters to live in. His mistress
+was good, too; but one of his sons, Dr. Aiken, whipped some of de
+niggers, lots. One time he whipped a slave for stealing. Some of his
+land was around four churches in Winnsboro.
+
+"We was allowed three pounds o' meat, one quart o' molasses, grits and
+other things each week--plenty for us to eat.
+
+"When freedom come, he told us we was free, and if we wanted to stay on
+with him, he would do the best he could for us. Most of us stayed, and
+after a few months, he paid wages. After eight months, some went to
+other places to work.
+
+"The master's wife died and he married a daughter of Robert Gillam and
+moved to Greenville, S. C.
+
+"The master always had a very big garden with plenty of vegetables. He
+had fifty hogs, and I helped mind the hogs. He didn't raise much cotton,
+but raised lots of wheat and corn. He made his own meal and flour from
+the mill on the creek; made home-made clothes with cards and spinning
+wheels.
+
+"They cooked in wide chimneys in a kitchen which was away off from the
+big house. They used pots and skillets to cook with. The hands got
+their rations every Monday night. They got their clothes to wear which
+they made on old spinning wheels, and wove them themselves.
+
+"The master had his own tanyard and tanned his leather and made shoes
+for his hands.
+
+"He had several overseers, white men, and some Negro foremen. They
+sometimes whipped the slaves, that is the overseers. Once a nigger
+whipped the overseer and had to run away in the woods and live so he
+wouldn't get caught. The nigger foremen looked after a set of slaves on
+any special work. They never worked at night unless it was to bring in
+fodder or hay when it looked like rain was coming. On rainy days, we
+shucked corn and cleaned up around the place.
+
+"We had old brick ovens, lots of 'em. Some was used to make molasses
+from our own sugar cane we raised.
+
+"The master had a 'sick-house' where he took sick slaves for treatment,
+and kept a drug store there. They didn't use old-time cures much, like
+herbs and barks, except sassafras root tea for the blood.
+
+"We didn't learn to read and write, but some learned after the war.
+
+"My father run the blacksmith shop for the master on the place. I worked
+around the place. The patrollers were there and we had to have a pass to
+get out any. The nigger children sometimes played out in the road and
+were chased by patrollers. The children would run into the master's
+place and the patrollers couldn't get them 'cause the master wouldn't
+let them. We had no churches for slaves, but went to the white church
+and set in the gallery. After freedom, niggers built 'brush harbors' on
+the place.
+
+"Slaves carried news from one plantation to another by riding mules or
+horses. They had to be in quarters at night. I remember my mother rode
+side-saddle one Saturday night. I reckon she had a pass to go; she come
+back without being bothered.
+
+"Some games children played was, hiding switches, marbles, and maybe
+others. Later on, some of de nigger boys started playing cards and got
+to gambling; some went to de woods to gamble.
+
+"The old cotton gins on de farms were made of wooden screws, and it took
+all day to gin four bales o' cotton.
+
+"I was one of the first trustees that helped build the first colored
+folks' church in the town of Greenwood. I am the only one now living. I
+married Alice Robinson, and had five sons and one daughter, and have
+five or six grandchildren.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, I think, was a good man; had a big reputation. Couldn't
+tell much about Jefferson Davis. Booker T. Washington--Everybody
+thinks he is a great man for the colored race.
+
+"Of course I think slavery was bad. We is free now and better off to
+work. I think anybody who is any count can work and live by himself.
+
+"I joined de church when I was 17 years old, because a big preaching was
+going on after freedom for the colored people.
+
+"I think everybody should join the church and do right; can't get
+anywhere without it, and do good."
+
+  Source: William Ballard (88), Greenwood, S. C.
+          Interviewed by: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (6/10/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  CHARLEY BARBER
+  EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Charley Barber lives in a shanty kind of house, situated on a plot of
+ground containing two acres all his own. It is a mile and a half
+southeast of Winnsboro, S. C. He lives with an anaemic daughter, Maggie,
+whose chief interests are a number of cats, about the premises, and a
+brindled, crumple-horned cow that she ties out to graze every morning
+and milks at evening.
+
+Charley is squat of figure, short neck, popeyed, and has white hair. He
+tills the two acres and produces garden truck that he finds a sale for
+among the employees of the Winnsboro mills, just across the railroad
+from his home. He likes to talk, and pricks up his ears,(so to speak),
+whenever anything is related as having occurred in the past. He will
+importune those present to hear his version of the event unusual.
+
+"Well sah, dis is a pleasure to have you call 'pon me, howsomever it be
+unexpected dis mornin'. Shoo! (driving the chickens out of the house)
+Shoo! Git out of here and go scratch a livin' for them chickens, dat's
+followin' you yet, and you won't wean and git to layin' again. Fust
+thing you know you'll be spoilin' de floor, when us is got company dis
+very minute. Scat! Maggie; git them cats out de chairs long 'nough for
+Mr. Wood to set in one whilst he's come to see me dis mornin'.
+
+"And dat's it? You wants me to talk over de days dat am gone? How dis
+come 'bout and how dat come 'bout, from de day I was born, to dis very
+hour? Let's light, up our smokestacks befo' us begin. Maybe you wants a
+drink of, water. Maggie, fetch de water here!
+
+"How old you think I is, sixty-five? My goodness! Do you hear dat
+Maggie? (Rubbing his hands; his eyes shining with pleasure) Take another
+look and make another guess. Seventy-five? You is growin' warm but
+you'll have to come again!
+
+"Bless your soul Marse Wood, you know what old Mudder Shifton say? She
+'low dat: 'In de year 1881, de world to an end will surely come'. I was
+twenty-five years old when all de niggers and most of de white folks was
+believin' dat old lady and lookin' for de world to come to an end in
+1881. Dat was de year dat I jined de church, 'cause I wanted to make
+sure dat if de end did come, I'd be caught up in dat rapture dat de
+white Methodist preacher was preachin' 'bout and explainin' to my
+marster and mistress at deir house on de piazza dat year.
+
+"I is eighty-one years old. I was born up on de Wateree River, close to
+Great Falls. My marster was Ozmond Barber. My mistress was name Miss
+Elizabeth; her de wife of Marse Ozmond. My pappy was name Jacob. My
+mammy went by de name of Jemima. They both come from Africa where they
+was born. They was 'ticed on a ship, fetch 'cross de ocean to Virginny,
+fetch to Winnsboro by a slave drover, and sold to my marster's father.
+Dat what they tell me. When they was sailin' over, dere was five or six
+hundred others all together down under de first deck of de ship, where
+they was locked in. They never did talk lak de other slaves, could just'
+say a few words, use deir hands, and make signs. They want deir
+collards, turnips, and deir 'tators, raw. They lak sweet milk so much
+they steal it.
+
+"Pappy care-nothin' 'bout clothes and wouldn't wear shoes in de winter
+time or any time. It was 'ginst de law to bring them over here when they
+did, I learn since. But what is de law now and what was de law then,
+when bright shiny money was in sight? Money make de automobile go. Money
+make de train go. Money make de mare go, and at dat time I 'spect money
+make de ships go. Yes sir, they, my pappy and mammy, was just smuggled
+in dis part of de world, I bet you!
+
+"War come on, my marster went out as a captain of de Horse Marines. A
+tune was much sung by de white folks on de place and took wid de
+niggers. It went lak dis:
+
+  'I'm Captain Jenks of de Horse Marines
+  I feed my horse on corn and beans.
+  Oh! I'm Captain Jenks of de Horse Marines
+  And captain in de army!'"
+
+"When de Yankees come they seem to have special vengeance for my white
+folks. They took everything they could carry off and burnt everything
+they couldn't carry off.
+
+"Mistress and de chillun have to go to Chester to git a place to sleep
+and eat, wid kinfolks. De niggers just lay 'round de place 'til master
+rode in, after de war, on a horse; him have money and friends and git
+things goin' agin. I stay on dere 'til '76. Then I come to Winnsboro and
+git a job as section hand laborer on de railroad. Out of de fust
+money,--(I git paid off de pay train then; company run a special pay
+train out of Columbia to Charlotte. They stop at every station and pay
+de hands off at de rear end of de train in cash). Well, as I was a
+sayin': Out de fust money, I buys me a red shirt and dat November I
+votes and de fust vote I put in de box was for Governor Wade Hampton.
+Dat was de fust big thing I done.
+
+"De nex' big thing I done was fall in love wid Mary Wylie. Dat come
+'bout on de second pay day. De other nigger gals say her marry me for my
+money but I never have believed it. White ladies do dat 'kalkilating'
+trick sometime but you take a blue-gum nigger gal, all wool on de top of
+her head and lak to dance and jig wid her foots, to pattin' and fiddle
+music, her ain't gonna have money in de back of her head when her pick
+out a man to marry. Her gonna want a man wid muscles on his arms and
+back and I had them. Usin' dat pick and shovel on de railroad just give
+me what it took to git Mary. Us had ten chillun. Some dead, some marry
+and leave. My wife die year befo' last. Maggie is puny, as you see, and
+us gits 'long wid de goodness of de Lord and de white folks.
+
+"I b'longs to de St. John Methodist Church in Middlesix, part of
+Winnsboro. They was havin' a rival (revival) meetin' de night of de
+earthquake, last day of August, in 1886. Folks had hardly got over de
+scare of 1881, 'bout de world comin' to an end. It was on Tuesday night,
+if I don't disremember, 'bout 9 o'clock. De preacher was prayin', just
+after de fust sermon, but him never got to de amen part of dat prayer.
+Dere come a noise or rumblin', lak far off thunder, seem lak it come
+from de northwest, then de church begin to rock lak a baby's cradle.
+Dere was great excitement. Old Aunt Melvina holler: 'De world comin' to
+de end'. De preacher say: 'Oh, Lordy', and run out of de pulpit.
+Everbody run out de church in de moonlight. When de second quake come,
+'bout a minute after de fust, somebody started up de cry: 'De devil
+under de church! De devil under de church! De devil gwine to take de
+church on his back and run away wid de church!' People never stop
+runnin' 'til they got to de court house in town. Dere they 'clare de
+devil done take St. John's Church on his back and fly away to hell wid
+it. Marse Henry Galliard make a speech and tell them what it was and beg
+them to go home. Dat Mr. Skinner, de telegraph man at de depot, say de
+main part of it was way down 'bout Charleston, too far away for anybody
+to git hurt here, 'less a brick from a chimney fall on somebody's head.
+De niggers mostly believes what a fine man, lak Marse Henry, tell them.
+De crowd git quiet. Some of them go home but many of them, down in de
+low part of town, set on de railroad track in de moonlight, all night. I
+was mighty sleepy de nex' mornin' but I work on de railroad track just
+de same. Dat night folks come back to St. John's Church, find it still
+dere, and such a outpourin' of de spirit was had as never was had befo'
+or since.
+
+"Just think! Dat has been fifty-one years ago. Them was de glorious
+horse and buggy days. Dere was no air-ships, no autos and no radios.
+White folks had horses to drive. Niggers had mules to ride to a baseball
+game, to see white folks run lak de patarollers (patrollers) was after
+them and they holler lak de world was on fire."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ED BARBER
+  EX-SLAVE 77 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Ed Barber lives in a small one-room house in the midst of a cotton field
+on the plantation of Mr. A. M. Owens, ten miles southeast of Winnsboro,
+S. C. He lives alone and does his own cooking and housekeeping. He is a
+bright mulatto, has an erect carriage and posture, appears younger than
+his age, is intelligent and enjoys recounting the tales of his lifetime.
+His own race doesn't give him much countenance. His friends in the old
+days of reconstruction were white people. He presumes on such past
+affiliation and considers himself better than the full-blooded Negro.
+
+"It's been a long time since I see you. Maybe you has forgot but I ain't
+forgot de fust time I put dese lookers on you, in '76. Does you 'members
+dat day? It was in a piece of pines beyond de Presbyterian Church, in
+Winnsboro, S. C. Us both had red shirts. You was a ridin' a gray pony
+and I was a ridin' a red mule, sorrel like. You say dat wasn't '76?
+Well, how come it wasn't? Ouillah Harrison, another nigger, was dere,
+though he was a man. Both of us got to arguin'. He 'low he could vote
+for Hampton and I couldn't, 'cause I wasn't 21. You say it was '78
+'stead of '76, dat day in de pines when you was dere? Well! Well! I sho'
+been thinkin' all dis time it was '76.
+
+"'Member de fight dat day when Mr. Pole Barnadore knock Mr. Blanchard
+down, while de speakin' was a gwine on? You does? Well, us come to
+common 'greement on dat, bless God!
+
+"Them was scary times! Me bein' just half nigger and half white man, I
+knowed which side de butter was on de bread. Who I see dere? Well, dere
+was a string of red shirts a mile long, dat come into Winnsboro from
+White Oak. And another from Flint Hill, over de Pea Ferry road, a mile
+long. De bar-rooms of de town did a big business dat day. Seem lak it
+was de fashion to git drunk all 'long them days.
+
+"Them red shirts was de monkey wrench in de cotton-gin of de carpet bag
+party. I's here to tell you. If a nigger git hungry, all he have to do
+is go to de white folk's house, beg for a red shirt, and explain hisself
+a democrat. He might not git de shirt right then but he git his belly
+full of everything de white folks got, and de privilege of comin' to dat
+trough sometime agin.
+
+"You wants me to tell you 'bout who I is, where I born, and how old I
+is? Well, just cross examine me and I'll tell you de facts as best I
+knows how.
+
+"I was born twelve miles east of Winnsboro, S. C. My marster say it was
+de 18th of January, 1860.
+
+"My mother name Ann. Her b'long to my marster, James Barber. Dat's not a
+fair question when you ask me who my daddy was. Well, just say he was a
+white man and dat my mother never did marry nobody, while he lived. I
+was de onliest child my mother ever had.
+
+"After freedom my mother raised me on de Marse Adam Barber place, up by
+Rocky Mount and Mitford. I stayed dere 'til all de 'citement of politics
+die down. My help was not wanted so much at de 'lection boxes, so I got
+to roamin' 'round to fust one place and then another. But wheresomever I
+go, I kept a thinkin' 'bout Rosa and de ripe may-pops in de field in
+cotton pickin' time. I landed back to de Barber place and after a
+skirmish or two wid de old folks, marry de gal de Lord always 'tended
+for me to marry. Her name was Rosa Ford. You ask me if she was pretty?
+Dat's a strange thing. Do you ever hear a white person say a colored
+woman is pretty? I never have but befo' God when I was trampin' 'round
+Charleston, dere was a church dere called St. Mark, dat all de society
+folks of my color went to. No black nigger welcome dere, they told me.
+Thinkin' as how I was bright 'nough to git in, I up and goes dere one
+Sunday. Ah, how they did carry on, bow and scrape and ape de white
+folks. I see some pretty feathers, pretty fans, and pretty women dere! I
+was uncomfortable all de time though, 'cause they was too 'hifalootin'
+in de ways, in de singin', and all sorts of carryin' ons.
+
+"Glad you fetch me back to Rosa. Us marry and had ten chillun. Francis,
+Thompkins, William, Jim, Levi, Ab and Oz is dead. Katie marry a Boykin
+and is livin' in New York. My wife, Rosa, die on dis place of Mr. Owens.
+
+"I lives in a house by myself. I hoes a little cotton, picks plums and
+blackberries but dewberries 'bout played out.
+
+"My marster, James Barber, went through de Civil War and died. I begs
+you, in de name of de good white folks of '76 and Wade Hampton, not to
+forget me in dis old age pension business.
+
+"What I think of Abe Lincoln? I think he was a poor buckra white man, to
+de likes of me. Although, I 'spects Mr. Lincoln meant well but I can't
+help but wish him had continued splittin' them fence rails, which they
+say he knowed all 'bout, and never took a hand in runnin' de government
+of which he knowed nothin' 'bout. Marse Jeff Davis was all right, but
+him oughta got out and fought some, lak General Lee, General Jackson and
+'Poleon Bonaparte. Us might have won de war if he had turned up at some
+of de big battles lak Gettysburg, 'Chickenmaroger', and 'Applemattox'.
+What you think 'bout dat?
+
+"Yes sah, I has knowed a whole lot of good white men. Marse General
+Bratton, Marse Ed P. Mobley, Marse Will Durham, dat owned dis house us
+now settin' in, and Dr. Henry Gibson. Does I know any good colored men?
+I sho' does! Dere's Professor Benjamin Russell at Blackstock. You knows
+him. Then dere was Ouillah Harrison, dat own a four-hoss team and a
+saddle hoss, in red shirt days. One time de brass band at Winnsboro, S.
+C. wanted to go to Camden, S. C. to play at de speakin' of Hampton. He
+took de whole band from Winnsboro to Camden, dat day, free of charge.
+Ah! De way dat band did play all de way to Ridgeway, down de road to
+Longtown, cross de Camden Ferry, and right into de town. Dere was horns
+a blowin', drums a beatin', and people a shoutin': 'Hurrah for Hampton!'
+Some was a singin': 'Hang Dan Chamberlain on a Sour Apple Tree'. Ouillah
+come home and found his wife had done had a boy baby. What you reckon?
+He name dat boy baby, Wade Hampton. When he come home to die, he lay his
+hand on dat boy's head and say: 'Wade, 'member who you name for and
+always vote a straight out democrat ticket'. Which dat boy did!"
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  MILLIE BARBER
+  EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
+
+"Hope you find yourself well dis mornin', white folks. I's just common;
+'spect I eats too much yesterday. You know us celebrated yesterday,
+'cause it was de Fourth of July. Us had a good dinner on dis 2,000 acre
+farm of Mr. Owens. God bless dat white boss man! What would us old no
+'count niggers do widout him? Dere's six or seven, maybe eight of us out
+here over eighty years old. 'Most of them is like me, not able to hit a
+lick of work, yet he take care of us; he sho' does.
+
+"Mr. Owens not a member of de church but he allowed dat he done found
+out dat it more blessed to give than to receive, in case like us.
+
+"You wants to know all 'bout de slavery time, de war, de Ku Kluxes and
+everything? My tongue too short to tell you all dat I knows. However, if
+it was as long as my stockin's, I could tell you a trunk full of good
+and easy, bad and hard, dat dis old life-stream have run over in
+eighty-two years. I's hoping to reach at last them green fields of Eden
+of de Promise Land. 'Scuse me ramblin' 'round, now just ask me
+questions; I bet I can answer all you ask.
+
+"My pa name, Tom McCullough; him was a slave of old Marster John
+McCullough, whose big two-story house is de oldest in Fairfield County.
+It stands today on a high hill, just above de banks of Dutchman Creek.
+Big road run right by dat house. My mammy name, Nicie. Her b'long to de
+Weir family; de head of de family die durin' de war of freedom. I's not
+supposed to know all he done, so I'll pass over dat. My mistress name,
+Eliza; good mistress. Have you got down dere dat old marster just took
+sick and die, 'cause he wasn't touched wid a bullet nor de life slashed
+out of him wid a sword?
+
+"Well, my pa b'longin' to one man and my mammy b'longin' to another,
+four or five miles apart, caused some confusion, mix-up, and heartaches.
+My pa have to git a pass to come to see my mammy. He come sometimes
+widout de pass. Patrollers catch him way up de chimney hidin' one night;
+they stripped him right befo' mammy and give him thirty-nine lashes, wid
+her cryin' and a hollerin' louder than he did.
+
+"Us lived in a log house; handmade bedstead, wheat straw mattress,
+cotton pillows, plenty coverin' and plenty to eat, sich as it was. Us
+never git butter or sweet milk or coffee. Dat was for de white folks but
+in de summer time, I minds de flies off de table wid the peafowl feather
+brush and eat in de kitchen just what de white folks eat; them was very
+good eatin's I's here for to tell you. All de old slaves and them dat
+worked in de field, got rations and de chillun were fed at de kitchen
+out-house. What did they git? I 'members they got peas, hog meat, corn
+bread, 'lasses, and buttermilk on Sunday, then they got greens, turnips,
+taters, shallots, collards, and beans through de week. They were kept
+fat on them kind of rations.
+
+"De fact is I can't 'member us ever had a doctor on de place; just a
+granny was enough at child birth. Slave women have a baby one day, up
+and gwine 'round de next day, singin' at her work lak nothin' unusual
+had happened.
+
+"Did I ever git a whippin'? Dat I did. How many times? More than I can
+count on fingers and toes. What I git a whippin' for? Oh, just one
+thing, then another. One time I break a plate while washin' dishes and
+another time I spilt de milk on de dinin' room floor. It was always for
+somethin', sir. I needed de whippin'.
+
+"Yes sir, I had two brothers older than me; one sister older than me and
+one brother younger than me.
+
+"My young marster was killed in de war. Their names was Robert, Smith,
+and Jimmie. My young mistress, Sarah, married a Sutton and moved to
+Texas. Nancy marry Mr. Wade Rawls. Miss Janie marry Mr. Hugh Melving. At
+this marriage my mammy was give to Miss Janie and she was took to Texas
+wid her young baby, Isaiah, in her arms. I have never seen or heard tell
+of them from dat day to dis.
+
+"De Yankees come and burn de gin-house and barns. Open de smokehouse,
+take de meat, give de slaves some, shoot de chickens, and as de mistress
+and girls beg so hard, they left widout burnin' de dwellin' house.
+
+"My oldest child, Alice, is livin' and is fifty-one years old de 10th of
+dis last May gone. My first husband was Levi Young; us lived wid Mr.
+Knox Picket some years after freedom. We moved to Mr. Rubin Lumpkin's
+plantation, then to George Boulwares. Well, my husband die and I took a
+fool notion, lak most widows, and got into slavery again. I marry Prince
+Barber; Mr. John Hollis, Trial Justice, tied de knot. I loved dat young
+nigger more than you can put down dere on paper, I did. He was black and
+shiny as a crow's wing. Him was white as snow to dese old eyes. Ah, the
+joy, de fusses, de ructions, de beatin's, and de makin' ups us had on de
+Ed Shannon place where us lived. Us stay dere seven long years.
+
+"Then de Klu Kluxes comed and lak to scared de life out of me. They ask
+where Prince was, searched de house and go away. Prince come home 'bout
+daylight. Us took fright, went to Marster Will Durham's and asked for
+advice and protection. Marster Will Durham fixed it up. Next year us
+moved to dis place, he own it then but Marster Arthur Owens owns it now.
+Dere is 2,000 acres in dis place and another 1,000 acres in de Rubin
+Lumpkin place 'joinin' it.
+
+"Prince die on dis place and I is left on de mercy of Marster Arthur,
+livin' in a house wid two grandchillun, James twelve years, and John
+Roosevelt Barber, eight years old. Dese boys can work a little. They can
+pick cotton and tote water in de field for de hands and marster say:
+'Every little help'.
+
+"My livin' chillun ain't no help to me. Dere's Willie, I don't know
+where he is. Prince is wid Mr. Freeman on de river. Maggie is here on de
+place but she no good to me.
+
+"I 'spect when I gits to drawin' down dat pension de white folks say is
+comin', then dere will be more folks playin' in my backyard than dere is
+today."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ANDERSON BATES
+  EX-SLAVE 87 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Anderson Bates lives with his son-in-law and daughter, Ed and Dora
+Owens, in a three-room frame house, on lands of Mr. Dan Heyward, near
+the Winnsboro Granite Company, Winnsboro, S. C. Anderson and his wife
+occupy one of the rooms and his rent is free. His son-in-law has regular
+employment at the Winnsboro Cotton Mills. His wife, Carrie, looks after
+the house. Anderson and his daughter, Dora, are day laborers on the
+neighborhood farms, but he is able to do very little work.
+
+"I was born on de old Dr. Furman place, near Jenkinsville, S. C., in de
+year, 1850. My pappy was name Nat and mammy name Winnie. They was slaves
+of old Dr. Furman, dat have a big plantation, one hundred slaves, and a
+whole lot of little slave chillun, dat him wouldn't let work. They run
+'round in de plum thickets, blackberry bushes, hunt wild strawberries,
+blow cane whistles, and have a good time.
+
+"De old Dr. Furman house is ramshackle but it is still standin' out dere
+and is used as a shelter for sawmill hands dat is cuttin' down de big
+pines and sawin' them on de place.
+
+"Where did my pappy and mammy come from? Mammy was born a slave in de
+Furman family in Charleston, but pappy was bought out of a drove dat a
+Baltimore speculator fetch from Maryland long befo' de war. Doctor
+practice all 'round and 'bout Monticello, happen 'long one day, see my
+pappy and give a thousand dollars for him, to dat speculator. I thank
+God for dat!
+
+"Dr. Furman, my old marster, have a brudder called Jim, dat run de
+Furman School, fust near Winnsboro, then it move to Greenville, S. C.
+
+"My mistress name Nancy. Her was of de quality. Her voice was soft and
+quiet to de slaves. Her teach us to sing:
+
+  'Dere is a happy land, far, far 'way,
+  Where bright angels stand, far, far 'way,
+  Oh! How them angels sing!
+  Oh! How them bells ring!
+  In dat happy land, far, far 'way!'
+
+"Dere was over a thousand acres, maybe two thousand in dat old Furman
+place. Them sawmill folks give $30,000.00 for it, last year.
+
+"My pappy and mammy was field hands. My brudders and sisters was:
+Liddie, Millie, Ria, Ella, Harriet, Thomas, Smith, and Marshall. All
+dead but me and Marshall.
+
+"I was fifteen when de Yankees come thru. They took off everything,
+hosses, mules, cows, sheep, goats, turkeys, geese, and chickens. Hogs?
+Yes sah, they kill hogs and take off what parts they want and leave
+other parts bleedin' on de yard. When they left, old marster have to go
+up into Union County for rations.
+
+"Dat's funny, you wants to set down dere 'bout my courtship and weddin'?
+Well, sir, I stay on de old plantation, work for my old marster, de
+doctor, and fell head over heels in love wid Carrie. Dere was seven more
+niggers a flyin' 'round dat sugar lump of a gal in de night time when I
+breezes in and takes charge of de fireside cheer. I knocks one down one
+night, kick another out de nex' night, and choke de stuffin' out of one
+de nex' night. I landed de three-leg stool on de head of de fourth one,
+de last time. Then de others carry deir 'fections to some other place
+than Carrie's house. Us have some hard words 'bout my bad manners, but I
+told her dat I couldn't 'trol my feelin's wid them fools a settin'
+'round dere gigglin' wid her. I go clean crazy!
+
+"Then us git married and go to de ten-acre quarry wid Mr. Anderson. I
+work dere a while and then go to Captain Macfie, then to his son, Wade,
+and then to Marse Rice Macfie. Then I go back to de quarry, drill and
+git out stone. They pay me $3.50 a day 'til de Parr Shoals Power come in
+wid 'lectric power drills and I was cut down to eighty cents a day. Then
+I say: 'Old grey hoss! Damn 'lectric toolin', I's gwine to leave.' I
+went to Hopewell, Virginia, and work wid de DuPonts for five years. War
+come on and they ask me to work on de acid area. De atmosphere dere tear
+all de skin off my face and arms, but I stuck it out to de end of de big
+war, for $7.20 a day. I drunk a good deal of liquor then, but I sent
+money to Carrie all de time and fetch her a roll every fourth of July
+and on Christmas. After de war they dismantle de plant and I come back
+to work for Mr. Eleazer, on de Saluda River for $2.00 a day, for five
+years.
+
+"Carrie have chillun by me. Dere was Anderson, my son, ain't see him in
+forty years. Essie, my daughter, marry Herbert Perrin. Dora, another
+daughter, marry Ed Owens. Ed makes good money workin' at de factory in
+Winnsboro. They have seven chillun. Us tries to keep them chillun in
+school but they don't have de good times I had when a child, a eatin'
+cracklin' bread and buttermilk, liver, pig-tails, hog-ears and turnip
+greens.
+
+"Does I 'member anything 'bout de Klu Kluxes? Jesus, yes! My old
+marster, de doctor, in goin' 'round, say out loud to people dat Klu
+Kluxes was doin' some things they ought not to do, by 'stortin' money
+out of niggers just 'cause they could.
+
+"When he was gone to Union one day, a low-down pair of white men come,
+wid false faces, to de house and ask where Dick Bell was. Miss Nancy say
+her don't know. They go hunt for him. Dick made a bee-line for de
+house. They pull out hoss pistols, fust time, 'pow'. Dick run on, secon'
+time, 'pow'. Dick run on, third time, 'pow' and as Dick reach de front
+yard de ball from de third shot keel him over lak a hit rabbit. Old miss
+run out but they git him. Her say: 'I give you five dollars to let him
+'lone.' They say: 'Not 'nough.' Her say: 'I give you ten dollars.' They
+say: 'Not 'nough.' Her say: 'I give you fifteen dollars.' They say: 'Not
+'nough.' Her say: 'I give you twenty-five dollars.' They take de money
+and say: 'Us'll be back tomorrow for de other Dick.' They mean Dick
+James.
+
+"Nex' day, us see them a comin' again. Dick James done load up de
+shotgun wid buckshot. When they was comin' up de front steps, Uncle Dick
+say to us all in de big house: 'Git out de way!' De names of de men us
+find out afterwards was Bishop and Fitzgerald. They come up de steps,
+wid Bishop in de front. Uncle Dick open de door, slap dat gun to his
+shoulder, and pull de trigger. Dat man Bishop hollers: 'Oh Lordy.' He
+drop dead and lay dere 'til de coroner come. Fitzgerald leap 'way. They
+bring Dick to jail, try him right in dat court house over yonder. What
+did they do wid him? Well, when Marse Bill Stanton, Marse Elisha
+Ragsdale and Miss Nancy tell 'bout it all from de beginnin' to de end,
+de judge tell de jury men dat Dick had a right to protect his home, and
+hisself, and to kill dat white man and to turn him loose. Dat was de end
+of de Klu Kluxes in Fairfield."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  From Field Notes
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  April 28. 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (negro)
+
+
+"I sho members when de soldiers come home from de war. All de women
+folks, both black as well as white wuz so glad to see 'em back dat we
+jus jumped up and hollered 'Oh, Lawdy, God bless you.' When you would
+look around a little, you would see some widout an arm or maybe dey
+would be a walkin' wid a cruch or a stick. Den you would cry some widout
+lettin your white folks see you. But Jane, de worsest time of all fer us
+darkies wuz when de Ku Klux killed Dan Black. We wuz little chilluns a
+playin' in Dans house. We didn't know he had done nothin' ginst de white
+folks. Us wuz a playin by de fire jus as nice when something hit on de
+wall. Dan, he jump up and try to git outten de winder. A white spooky
+thing had done come in de doo' right by me. I was so scairt dat I could
+not git up. I had done fell straight out on de flo'. When Dan stick his
+head outten dat winder something say bang and he fell right down in de
+flo'. I crawles under de bed. When I got dar, all de other chilluns wuz
+dar to, lookin' as white as ashed dough from hickory wood. Us peeped out
+and den us duck under de bed agin. Ain't no bed ebber done as much good
+as dat one. Den a whole lot of dem come in de house. De wuz all white
+and scairy lookin'. It still makes de shivvers run down my spine and
+here I is ole and you all a settin' around wid me and two mo' wars done
+gone since dat awful time. Dan Black, he wo'nt no mo' kaise dey took dat
+nigger and hung him to a simmon tree. Dey would not let his folks take
+him down either. He jus stayed dar till he fell to pieces.
+
+"After dat when us chilluns seed de Ku Klux a comin', us would take an'
+run breakneck speed to de nearest wood. Dar we would stay till dey wuz
+plum out o' sight and you could not even hear de horses feet. Dem days
+wuz worse'n de war. Yes Lawd, dey wuz worse'n any war I is ebber heard
+of.
+
+"Was not long after dat fore de spooks wuz a gwine round ebber whar.
+When you would go out atter dark, somethin' would start to a haintin'
+ye. You would git so scairt dat you would mighty ni run every time you
+went out atter dark; even iffin you didn't see nothin'. Chile, don't axe
+me what I seed. Atter all dat killin' and a burnin' you know you wuz
+bliged to see things wid all dem spirits in distress a gwine all over de
+land. You see, it is like dis, when a man gits killed befo he is done
+what de good Lawd intended fer him to do, he comes back here and tries
+to find who done him wrong. I mean he don' come back hisself, but de
+spirit, it is what comes and wanders around. Course, it can't do
+nothin', so it jus scares folks and haints dem."
+
+  Source: "Aunt" Millie Bates, 25 Hamlet street, Union, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  VISIT WITH UNCLE WELCOME BEES--AGE 104 YEARS
+
+
+The road is perfectly camouflaged from the King's Highway by wild plums
+that lap overhead. Only those who have traveled this way before could
+locate the 'turn in' to Uncle Welcome's house. When you have turned in
+and come suddenly out from the plum thicket you find your road winding
+along with cultivated patches on the left--corn and peas--a fenced-in
+garden, the palings riven out by hand, and thick dark woods on the left.
+A lonesome, untenanted cabin is seemingly in the way but your car swings
+to the left instead of climbing the door-step and suddenly you find you
+are facing a bog. The car may get through; it may not. So you switch off
+and just sit a minute, seeing how the land lies. A great singing and
+chopping of wood off to the left have kept the inmates from hearing the
+approach of a car. When you rap therefore you hear, 'Come in'.
+
+A narrow hall runs through to the back porch and off this hall on your
+right opens a door from beyond which comes a very musical squeaking--you
+know a rocking chair is going hard--even before you see it in motion
+with a fuzzy little head that rests on someone's shoulder sticking over
+the top. And the fuzzy head which in size is like a small five-cent
+cocoanut, belongs to Uncle Welcome's great-grand. On seeing a visitor
+the grand, the mother of the infant, rises and smiles greeting, and,
+learning your errand, points back to the kitchen to show where Uncle
+Welcome sits. You step down one step and ask him if you may come in and
+he pats a chair by his side. The old man isn't so spry as he was when
+you saw him in the fall; the winter has been hard. But here it is warm
+again and at most four in the April afternoon, he sits over his plate of
+hopping John--he and innumerable flies. At his feet, fairly under the
+front of a small iron stove, sits another great-grand with a plate of
+peas between her legs. Peas and rice, 'hopping John'. (Someone says peas
+and hominy cooked together makes "limping Lizzie in the Low-Country."
+But that is another story.)
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Uncle Welcome, isn't Uncle Jeemes Stuart the oldest liver on Sandy
+Island?" Welcome: "Jeemes Stuart? I was married man when he born. Jeemes
+rice-field. (Worker in rice-field) posed himself. In all kinds of
+weather. Cut you down, down, down. Jeemes second wife gal been married
+before but her husband dead.
+
+"I couldn't tell the date or time I born. Your Maussa (Master) take it
+down. When I been marry, Dr. Ward Fadder (Father) aint been marry yet.
+My mother had twelve head born Oatland. He bought my mother from
+Virginia. Dolly. Sam her husband name. Sam come from same course. When
+my mother been bought, her been young woman. Work in rice. Plow right
+now (Meaning April is time to plow rice fields). I do carpenter work and
+mind horse for plantation. Come from Georgetown in boat. Have you own
+carriage. Go anywhere you want to go. Oatland church build for colored
+people and po-buckra. I helped build that church. The boss man, Mr.
+Bettman. My son Isaac sixty-nine. If him sixty-nine, I one hundred four.
+That's my record. Maussa didn't low you to marry till you twenty-two.
+Ben Allston own Turkey Hill. When him dead, I was twelve years old. Me!
+(Knocking his chest)"
+
+  Welcome Bees--
+  Parkersville, S. C.
+  (Near Waverly Mills, S. C.)
+  Age 104.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ANNE BELL
+  EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD.
+  ~HW: (near Winnsboro, S. C.)~]
+
+
+Anne Bell lives with her niece, in a one-room annex to a two-room frame
+house, on the plantation of Mr. Lake Howze, six miles west of Winnsboro,
+S. C. Her niece's husband, Golden Byrd, is a share-cropper on Mr.
+Howze's place. The old lady is still spry and energetic about the cares
+of housekeeping and attention to the small children of her niece. She is
+a delightful old lady and well worth her keep in the small chores she
+undertakes and performs in the household.
+
+"My marster was John Glazier Rabb; us call him Marse Glazier. My
+mistress was Nancy Kincaid Watts; us call her Miss Nancy. They lived on
+a big plantation in Fairfield County and dere I come into dis world,
+eighty-three years ago, 10th day of April past.
+
+"My pappy name just Andy but after de freedom, he took de name of Andrew
+Watts. My old mammy was Harriett but she come to you if you calls her
+Hattie. My brudders was Jake and Rafe. My sister name Charity. They all
+dead and gone to glory long time ago; left me here 'lone by myself and
+I's settin' here tellin' you 'bout them.
+
+"My mammy was de cook at de 'Big House' for marster, Miss Nancy, and de
+chillun. Let me see if I can call them over in my mind. Dere was Marse
+John, went off to de war, color bearer at Seven Pines. Yes sir, him was
+killed wid de colors a flyin' in his hand. Heard tell of it many times.
+He lies right now in de old Buck Church graveyard. De pine trees, seven
+of them, cry and sob 'round him every August 6th; dat's de day he was
+killed. Oh, my God!
+
+"Marse James went wid old Colonel Rion. They say he got shot but bullets
+couldn't kill him. No, bless God! Him comed back. Then come Marse
+Clarence. He went wid Captain Jim Macfie, went through it all and didn't
+get a scratch. Next was Miss Jesse. Then come Marse Horace, and Miss
+Nina. Us chillun all played together. Marse Horace is livin' yet and is
+a fine A. R.P. preacher of de Word. Miss Nina a rich lady, got
+plantation but live 'mong de big bugs in Winnsboro. She married Mr.
+Castles; she is a widow now. He was a good man, but he dead now.
+
+"De one I minds next, is Charlie. I nussed him. He married Colonel
+Province's daughter. Dat's all I can call to mind, right now.
+
+"Course de white folks I b'longs to, had more slaves than I got fingers
+and toes; whole families of them. De carpenter and de blacksmith on de
+place made de bedsteads. Us had good wheat straw mattresses to sleep on;
+cotton quilts, spreads, and cotton pillows. No trouble to sleep but it
+was hard to hear dat white overseer say at day break: 'Let me hear them
+foots hit de floor and dat befo' I go! Be lively! Hear me?' And you had
+to answer, 'Yas sah', befo' he'd move on to de nex' house. I does
+'member de parts of de bed, was held together by wooden pins. I sho'
+'members dat!
+
+"Mammy Harriett was de cook. I didn't done no work but 'tend to de
+chillun and tote water.
+
+"Money? Go 'way from here, boss! Lord, no sir, I never saw no money.
+What I want wid it anyhow?
+
+"How did they feed us? Had better things to eat then, than now and more
+different kind of somethin's. Us had pears, 'lasses, shorts, middlings
+of de wheat, corn bread, and all kinds of milk and vegetables.
+
+"Got a whuppin' once. They wanted me to go after de turkeys and I didn't
+want to go past de graveyard, where de turkeys was. I sho' didn't want
+to go by them graves. I's scared now to go by a graveyard in de dark. I
+took de whuppin' and somebody else must have got de turkeys. Sho' I
+didn't drive them up!
+
+"Slaves spun de thread, loomed de cloth, and made de clothes for de
+plantation. Don't believe I had any shoes. I was just a small gal anyhow
+then, didn't need them and didn't want them.
+
+"Yes, I's seen nigger women plow. Church? I wouldn't fool you, all de
+slaves big enough and not sick, had to go to church on de Sabbath.
+
+"They give us a half Saturday, to do as we like.
+
+"I was 'bout ten years old when de Yankees come. They was full to de
+brim wid mischief. They took de frocks out de presses and put them on
+and laugh and carry on powerful. Befo' they went they took everything.
+They took de meat and 'visions out de smoke-house, and de 'lasses,
+sugar, flour, and meal out de house. Killed de pigs and cows, burnt de
+gin-house and cotton, and took off de live stock, geese, chickens and
+turkeys.
+
+"After de freedom, I stayed on wid mammy right dere, 'til I married Levi
+Bell. I's had two chillun. Dis my grand-daughter, I visitin'. I never
+'spects to have as good a home as I had in slavery time, 'til I gits my
+title to dat mansion in de sky. Dats de reason I likes to sing dat old
+plantation spiritual, 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot, Jesus Gwinter Carry me
+Home'. Does I believe in 'ligion? What else good for colored folks? I
+ask you if dere ain't a heaven, what's colored folks got to look forward
+to? They can't git anywhere down here. De only joy they can have here,
+is servin' and lovin'; us can git dat in 'ligion but dere is a limit to
+de nigger in everything else. Course I knows my place in dis world; I
+'umbles myself here to be 'zalted up yonder."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  July 26, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  SLAVERY REMINISCENCES
+
+
+"I was raised in the wood across the road about 200 yards from here. I
+was very mischievous. My parents were honest and were Christians. I
+loved them very much. My father was William Bevis, who died at the age
+of eighty. Miss Zelia Hames of Pea Ridge was my mother. My parents are
+buried at Bethlehem Methodist Church. I was brought up in Methodism and
+I do not know anything else. I had two brothers and four sisters. My
+twin sister died last April 1937. She was Fannie Holcombe. I was in bed
+with pneumonia at the time of her death and of course I could not go to
+the funeral. For a month, I was unconscious.
+
+"When I was a little girl I played 'Andy-over' with a ball, in the
+moonlight. Later I went to parties and dances. Calico, chambric and
+gingham were the materials which our party dresses were made of.
+
+"My grandmother, Mrs. Phoebe Bevis used to tell Revolutionary stories
+and sing songs that were sung during that period. Grandmother knew some
+Tories. She always told me that old Nat Gist was a Tory ... that is the
+way he got rich.
+
+"Hampton was elected governor the morning my mother died. Father went in
+his carriage to Jonesville to vote for Hampton. We all thought that
+Hampton was fine.
+
+"When I was a school girl I used the blue back speller. My sweetheart's
+name was Ben Harris. We went to Bethlehem to school. Jeff and Bill
+Harris were our teachers. I was thirteen. We went together for six
+years. The Confederate War commenced. He was very handsome. He had black
+eyes and black hair. I had seven curls on one side of my head and seven
+on the other. He was twenty-four when he joined the 'Boys of Sixteen'.
+
+"He wanted to marry me then, but father would not let us marry. He
+kissed me good bye and went off to Virginia. He was a picket and was
+killed while on duty at Mars Hill. Bill Harris was in a tent nearby and
+heard the shot. He brought Ben home. I went to the funeral. I have never
+been much in-love since then.
+
+"I hardly ever feel sad. I did not feel especially sad during the war. I
+made socks, gloves and sweaters for the Confederate soldiers and also
+knitted for the World War soldiers. During the war, there were three
+looms and three shuttles in our house.
+
+"I went often to the muster grounds at Kelton to see the soldiers drill
+and to flirt my curls at them. Pa always went with me to the muster
+field. Once he invited four recruits to dine with us. We had a delicious
+supper. That was before the Confederacy was paralyzed. Two darkies
+waited on our table that night, Dorcas and Charlotte. A fire burned in
+our big fireplace and a lamp hung over the table. After supper was over,
+we all sat around the fire in its flickering light.
+
+"My next lover was Jess Holt and he was drowned in the Mississippi
+River. He was a carpenter and was building a warf on the river. He fell
+in and was drowned in a whirlpool."
+
+  Source: Miss Caroline Bevis (W. 96), County Home, Union, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/13/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, June 21, 1937
+
+  MAGGIE BLACK
+  Ex-Slave, 79 years
+
+
+"Honey, I don' know wha' to tell yuh 'bout dem times back dere. Yuh see
+I wus jes uh young child when de free war close en I ain' know much to
+tell yuh. I born o'er de river dere to Massa Jim Wilkerson plantation.
+Don' know wha' 'come uv my ole Massa chillun a'ter dey head been gone.
+Yuh see, honey, Massa Jim Wilkerson hab uh heap uv slave en he hire my
+mudder out to Colonel Durant place right down de road dere whey Miss
+Durant lib now. Coase I been back o'er de river to visit 'mongest de
+peoples dere a'ter freedom wuz 'clare, but I ain' ne'er lib dere no
+more."
+
+"Gawd been good to me, honey. I been heah uh long ole time en I can' see
+mucha dese days, but I gettin' 'long sorta so-so. I wuz train up to be
+uh nu'se 'oman en I betcha I got chillun more den any 60 year ole 'bout
+heah now dat I nu'se when dey wuz fust come heah. No, honey, ain' got no
+chillun uv me own. Aw my chillun white lak yuh."
+
+"No, no'mam, dey wear long ole frock den en uh girl comin' on dere when
+dey ge' to be any kind uv uh girl, dey put dat frock down. Oh, my child,
+dey can' ge' em short 'nough dese days. Ain' hab nuthin but uh string on
+dese day en time. Dey use'er wear dem big ole hoop skirt dat sit out
+broad lak from de ankle en den dey wear little panty dat show down twixt
+dey skirt en dey ankle. Jes tie em 'round dey knees wid some sorta
+string en le' em show dat way 'bout dey ankle. I 'member we black
+chillun'ud go in de woods en ge' wild grape vine en bend em round en put
+em under us skirt en make it stand out big lak. Hadder hab uh big ole
+ring fa de bottom uv de skirt en den one uh little bit smaller eve'y
+time dey ge' closer to de waist. Ne'er hab none tall in de waist cause
+dat wuz s'ppose to be little bitty t'ing."
+
+"Dey weave aw de cloth dey use den right dere on de plantation. Wear
+cotton en woolens aw de time den. Coase de Madam, she could go en ge' de
+finest kind uv silk cause mos' uv her t'ing come from 'broad. Child, I
+c'n see my ole mammy how she look workin' dat spinning wheel jes us good
+uz ef dat day wuz dis day right heah. She set dere at dat ole spinning
+wheel en take one shettle en t'row it one way en den annuder de udder
+way en pull dat t'ing en make it tighter en tighter. Sumptin say zum,
+zum, zum, en den yuh hadder work yuh feet dere too. Dat wuz de way dey
+make dey cloth dat day en time."
+
+"Honey, peoples hadder work dey hand fa eve'yt'ing dey hab mos' den. Dey
+grew dey own rice right dere on de plantation in dem days. Hadder plant
+it on some uv de land wha' wuz weter den de udder land wuz. Dey hadder
+le' de rice ge' good en ripe en den dey'ud cut it en hab one uv dem big
+rice whipping days. Heap uv people come from plantation aw 'bout en
+help whip dat rice. Dey jes take de rice en beat it 'cross some hoes dat
+dey hab fix up somewhey dere on de plantation. Honey, dey hab hoss jes
+lak dese hoss yuh see carpenter use 'boat heah dese days. Dey'ud hab
+hundreds uv bushels uv dat rice dere. Den when dey ge' t'rough, dey hab
+big supper dere fa aw dem wha' whip rice. Gi'e em aw de rice en hog head
+dey is e'er wan'. Man, dey'ud hab de nicest kind uv music dere. Knock
+dem bones togedder en slap en pat dey hands to aw kind uv pretty tune."
+
+"Dem dey hab rice mortars right dere on de plantation wha' dey fix de
+rice in jes uz nice. Now dey hab to take it to de mill. Yuh see dey hab
+uh big block outer in de yard wid uh big hole in it dat dey put de rice
+in en take dese t'ing call pestles en beat down on it en dat wha' knock
+de shaft offen it. Coase dey ne'er hab no nice pretty rice lak yuh see
+dese days cause it wusn't uz white uz de rice dat dey hab 'boat heah dis
+day en time, but it wuz mighty sweet rice, honey, mighty sweet rice."
+
+"No'mam, didn't hab no schools tall den. Ne'er gi'e de colored peoples
+no l'arnin' no whey 'fore freedom 'clare. Wha' little l'arnin' come my
+way wuz wha' I ge' when I stay wid Miss Martha Leggett down dere to
+Leggett's Mill Pond. A'ter freedom 'clare, uh lady from de north come
+dere en Miss Leggett send we chillun to school to dat lady up on de hill
+dere in de woods. No, honey, yah ain' ne'er see no bresh tent 'bout
+heah dis day en time. Dis jes de way it waz make. Dey dig four big holes
+en put postes in aw four corner 'bout lak uh room. Den dey lay log
+'cross de top uv dat en kiver it aw o'er wid bresh (brush) dat dey break
+outer de woods. Ne'er hab none uv de side shet up. En dey haul log dere
+en roll em under dat bresh tent fa we chillun to set on. Oh, de
+teacher'ud hab uh big box fa her stand jes lak uh preacher. Eve'ybody
+dat go to school dere hab one uv dem t'ing call slate dat yah ne'er
+hadder do nuthin but jes wash it offen. En dey hab dese ole l'arnin'
+book wha' yuh call Websters."
+
+"My white folks al'ays waz good to me, honey. Ne'er didn't nab to do no
+field work in aw me life. When I stay dere wid Miss Leggett, I hadder
+pick up little chip 'bout de yard when I fust come home from school en
+den I hadder go 'way up in de big field en drib de turkeys up. We didn't
+find dat no hard t'ing to do lak de peoples talk lak it sumptin hard to
+do dese days. We wuz l'arnt to work en didn't mind it neither. Al'ays
+minded to us own business."
+
+"Oh, gourds waz de t'ing in dem days. Dey waz wha' de peoples hab to
+drink outer en wash dey hominy en rice in aw de time. Dey was de bestest
+kind uv bowl fa we chillun to eat corn bread en clabber outer. Peoples
+dis day en time don' hab no sech crockery lak de people use'er hab.
+Honey, day hab de prettiest little clay bowls den."
+
+"Annuder t'ing de peoples do den dat yuh ain' ne'er hear 'bout nobody
+doing dese days, dey al'ays boil sumptin fa dey cows to eat lak peas en
+corn in uh big ole black pot somewhey dere in de back lot. Coase it wuz
+jes half cooked, but day sho' done dat. Nobody ne'er t'ought 'bout not
+cookin' fa dey cow den."
+
+"Dat was sho' uh different day from dis, honey. De little chillun wus
+jes uz foolish den cause de peoples ne'er tell dem 'bout nuthin tall in
+dat day en time. Aw dese little chillun 'bout heah dese days don' hab no
+shame 'bout em no whey. Dey hab head full uv eve'yt'ing, honey, aw sorta
+grown people knowings."
+
+  Source: Maggie Black, ex-slave, age 79, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview, June 1937
+
+
+
+
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  June 7, 1937
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Laurens County, S. C., at the 'brick house', which is
+close to Newberry County line, and my master was Dr. Felix Calmes. The
+old brick house is still there. My daddy was Joe Grazier and my mammy,
+Nellie Grazier.
+
+"We had a pretty good house to live in in slavery time, and some fair
+things to eat, but never was paid any money. We had plenty to eat like
+fat meat, turnips, cabbages, cornbread, milk and pot-liquor. Master sent
+his corn and apples, and his peaches to old man Scruggs at Helena, near
+Newberry, to have him make his whiskey, brandy, and wine for him. Old
+man Scruggs was good at that business. The men hunted some, squirrels,
+rabbits, possums, and birds.
+
+"In the winter time I didn't have much clothes, and no shoes. At nights
+I carded and spinned on the mistress's wheels, helping my mammy. Then we
+got old woman Wilson to weave for us.
+
+"Master had a big plantation of several farms, near about 1,000 acres or
+more. It was said he had once 250 slaves on his places, counting
+children and all. His overseers had to whip the slaves, master told them
+to, and told them to whip them hard. Master Calmes was most always mean
+to us. He got mad spells and whip like the mischief. He all the time
+whipping me 'cause I wouldn't work like he wanted. I worked in the big
+house, washed, ironed, cleaned up, and was nurse in the house when war
+was going on.
+
+"We didn't have a chance to learn to read and write, and master said if
+he caught any of his slaves trying to learn he would 'skin them alive'.
+
+"There was a church in the neighborhood on Dr. Blackburn's place, but we
+didn't get to go to it much. I was 17 years old when I joined the
+church. I joined because the rest of the girls joined. I think everybody
+ought to join the church.
+
+"On Saturday afternoons the slaves had to work, and all day Sunday, too,
+if master wanted them. On Christmas Day we was give liquor to get drunk
+on, but didn't have no dinner.
+
+"When I was sick old Dr. P. B. Ruff attended me. Old Dr. Calmes, I
+'member, traveled on a horse, with saddle-bag behind him, and made his
+own medicines. He made pills from cornbread.
+
+"I saw many slaves sold on the block--saw mammy with little infant taken
+away from her baby and sent away. I saw families separated from each
+other, some going to one white master and some to another.
+
+"I married at 14 years old to Arthur Bluford. We had 10 children. I now
+have about 8 grandchildren and about 7 or 8 great-grandchildren. I was
+married in the town of Newberry at the white folk's Methodist church, by
+a colored preacher named Rev. Geo. De Walt.
+
+"When freedom come, they left and hired out to other people, but I
+stayed and was hired out to a man who tried to whip me, but I ran away.
+Dat was after I married and had little baby. I told my mammy to look
+after my little baby 'cause I was gone. I stayed away two years 'till
+after Dr. Calmes and his family moved to Mississippi."
+
+  Source: Gordon Bluford (92), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, 1707 Lindsey St.,
+                     Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Henry Grant
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  SAMUEL BOULWARE
+  EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Samuel Boulware's only home is one basement room, in the home of colored
+friends, for which no rent charges are made. He is old and feeble and
+has poor eyesight, yet, he is self-supporting by doing light odd jobs,
+mostly for white people. He has never married, hence no dependents
+whatever. One of the members of the house, in which Samuel lives, told
+him someone on the front porch wanted to talk with him.
+
+From his dingy basement room he slowly mounted the steps and came toward
+the front door with an irregular shamble. One seeing his approach would
+naturally be of the opinion, that this old darkey was certainly nearing
+the hundred year mark. Apparently Father Time had almost caught up with
+him; he had been caught in the winds of affliction and now he was
+tottering along with a bent and twisted frame, which for many years in
+the past, housed a veritable physical giant. The winds of 82 years had
+blown over him and now he was calmly and humbly approaching the end of
+his days. Humility was his attitude, a characteristic purely
+attributable to the genuine and old-fashion southern Negro. He slid into
+a nearby chair and began talking in a plain conversational way.
+
+"Dis is a mighty hot day white folks but you knows dis is July and us
+gits de hot days in dis month. De older I gits de more I feels de hot
+and de cold. I has been a strong, hard working man most all my life and
+if it wasn't for dis rheumatism I has in my right leg, I could work hard
+every day now.
+
+"Does I 'member much 'bout slavery times? Well, dere is no way for me to
+disremember, unless I die. My mammy and me b'long to Doctor Hunter,
+some called him Major Hunter. When I was a small boy, I lived wid my
+mammy on de Hunter plantation. After freedom, I took de name of my
+daddy, who was a Boulware. He b'long to Reuben Boulware, who had a
+plantation two and one-half miles from Ridgeway, S. C., on de road dat
+leads to Longtown. My mistress' name was Effie. She and marster had four
+sons, no girls a-tall. George, Abram, Willie, and Henry, was their
+names. They was fine boys, 'cause they was raised by Mistress Effie's
+own hands. She was a good woman and done things 'zackly right 'round de
+plantation. Us slaves loved her, 'cause she said kind and soft words to
+us. Many times I's seen her pat de little niggers on de head, smile and
+say nice words to them. Boss, kind treatment done good then and it sho'
+does good dis present day; don't you think I's right 'bout dat? Marster
+had a bad temper. When he git mad, he walk fast, dis way and dat way,
+and when he stop, would say terrible cuss words. When de mistress heard
+them bad words, she would bow her pretty head and walk 'way kinda sad
+lak. It hurt us slaves to see de mistress sad, 'cause us wanted to see
+her smilin' and happy all de time.
+
+"My mammy worked hard in de field every day and as I was just a small
+boy, I toted water to de hands in de field and fetched wood into de
+kitchen to cook wid. Mammy was de mother of twelve chillun; three of
+them die when they was babies. I's de oldest of de twelve and has done
+more hard work than de rest. I had five brothers and all of them is
+dead, 'cept one dat lives in Savannah, Georgia. I has four sisters, one
+living in Charleston, one in New York City, one in Ithaca, N. Y., and
+one in Fairfield County, dis State.
+
+"Does my folks help me along any? No sir, they sho' don't. I gits
+nothin' from them, and I don't expect nothin' neither. Boss, a nigger's
+kinfolks is worse than a stranger to them; they thinks and acts for
+theirselves and no one else. I knows I's a nigger and I tries to know my
+place. If white folks had drapped us long time ago, us would now be next
+to de rovin' beasts of de woods. Slavery was hard I knows but it had to
+be, it seem lak. They tells me they eats each other in Africa. Us don't
+do dat and you knows dat is a heap to us.
+
+"Us had plenty to eat in slavery time. It wasn't de best but it filled
+us up and give us strength 'nough to work. Marster would buy a years
+rations on de first of every year and when he git it, he would have some
+cooked and would set down and eat a meal of it. He would tell us it
+didn't hurt him, so it won't hurt us. Dats de kind of food us slaves had
+to eat all de year. Of course, us got a heap of vegetables and fruits in
+de summer season, but sich as dat didn't do to work on, in de long
+summer days.
+
+"Marster was good, in a way, to his slaves but dat overseer of his name
+John Parker, was mean to us sometimes. He was good to some and bad to
+others. He strung us up when he done de whippin'. My mammy got many
+whippin's on 'count of her short temper. When she got mad, she would
+talk back to de overseer, and dat would make him madder than anything
+else she could do.
+
+"Marster had over twenty grown slaves all de time. He bought and sold
+them whenever he wanted to. It was sad times to see mother and chillun
+separated. I's seen de slave speculator cut de little nigger chillun
+with keen leather whips, 'cause they'd cry and run after de wagon dat
+was takin' their mammies away after they was sold.
+
+"De overseer was poor white folks, if dats what you is askin' 'bout,
+and dat is one thing dat made him so hard on de slaves of de plantation.
+All de overseers I knowed 'bout was poor white folks; they was white
+folks in de neighborhood dat wasn't able to own slaves. All dis class of
+people was called by us niggers, poor white folks.
+
+"Us slaves had no schoolin', 'cause dere was no teacher and school nigh
+our plantation. I has learnt to read a little since I got grown.
+Spelling come to me natural. I can spell 'most any word I hears, old as
+I is.
+
+"Marster and mistress was Baptist in 'ligious faith, and b'long to
+Concord Baptist Church. Us slaves was allowed to 'tend dat church, too.
+Us set up in de gallery and jined in de singin' every Sunday. Us slaves
+could jine Concord Church but Doctor Durham, who was de preacher, would
+take de slaves in another room from de white folks, and git their
+'fessions, then he would jine them to de church.
+
+"My daddy was a slave on Reuben Boulware's plantation, 'bout two miles
+from Marster Hunter's place. He would git a pass to come to see mammy
+once every week. If he come more than dat he would have to skeedaddle
+through de woods and fields from de patrollers. If they ketched him
+widout a pass, he was sho' in for a skin crackin' whippin'. He knowed
+all dat but he would slip to see mammy anyhow, whippin' or not.
+
+"Most them there patrollers was poor white folks, I believes. Rich folks
+stay in their house at night, 'less they has some sort of big frolic
+amongst theirselves. Poor white folks had to hustle 'round to make a
+living, so, they hired out theirselves to slave owners and rode de roads
+at night and whipped niggers if they ketched any off their plantation
+widout a pass. I has found dat if you gives to some poor folks, white
+or black, something a little better than they is used to, they is sho'
+gwine to think too high of theirselves soon, dats right. I sho' believes
+dat, as much as I believes I's setting in dis chair talkin' to you.
+
+"I 'members lak yesterday, de Yankees comin' 'long. Marster tried to
+hide the best stuff on de plantation but some of de slaves dat helped
+him hide it, showed de Yankee soldiers just where it was, when they come
+dere. They say: 'Here is de stuff, hid here, 'cause us put it dere.'
+Then de soldiers went straight to de place where de valuables was hid
+and dug them out and took them, it sho' set old marster down. Us slaves
+was sorry dat day for marster and mistress. They was gittin' old, and
+now they had lost all they had, and more that dat, they knowed their
+slaves was set free. De soldiers took all de good hosses, fat cattle,
+chickens, de meat in de smoke house, and then burnt all empty houses.
+They left de ones dat folks lived in. De Yankees 'pear to me, to be
+lookin' for things to eat, more than anything else.
+
+"Does I believe in 'ligion? Dat is all us has in dis world to live by
+and it's gwine to be de onliest thing to die wid. Belief in God and a
+'umble spirit is how I's tryin' to live these days. I was christened
+fust a Methodist, but when I growed up, I jine de Presbyterian Church
+and has 'mained a member of dat church every since.
+
+"Thank God I's had 'nough sense not to believe in haunts and sich
+things. I has 'possum hunt at night by myself in graveyards and I ain't
+seen one yet. My mammy say she see haunts pass her wid no heads but
+these old eyes has never seen anything lak dat. If you has done somebody
+a terrible wrong, then I believes dat person when they die, will 'pear
+to you on 'count of dat."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Feb. 7, 1938
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  REMINISCENCES: THE RED SHIRTS
+  [~HW: Boy~]
+
+
+"The Red Shirts had a big parade and barbecue in Spartanburg. They met
+at the courthouse. There were about 500 Red Shirts, besides others who
+made up a big crowd. I remember four leaders who came from Union County.
+One of the companies was led by Squire Gilliam Jeter, and one by Squire
+Bill Lyles. The company from the city was led by Capt. James Douglass
+and 'Buck' Kelley from Pea Ridge was there with his company.
+
+"Everything drilled in Spartanburg that day. The speakers of the day
+from Union were Squire Jeter and Capt. Douglass. While they were
+speaking, old Squire George Tucker from lower Fish Dam came with his
+company. Mr. Harrison Sartor, father of Will Sartor, was one of the
+captains. We saw Gen. Wade Hampton and old man Ben Tillman there.
+
+"About this time I was bound out to Mr. Jim Gregory, a blacksmith. The
+wealthy landlords bought negroes. Mr. Jim Gregory was the blacksmith for
+old Johnny Meador and Aunt Polly, his wife. He told me that Uncle Johnny
+bought a man, Heath, for $3,500. He also bought Heath's wife, Morrow,
+for Aunt Polly, but I don't know what he paid. The Meador house is just
+this side of Simstown. Aunt Polly's father, Triplett Meador, built that
+mansion. The brick were made in a home kiln which was near the house.
+Aunt Polly was a little girl when the house was built. While the brick
+for the sitting-room fireplace were still wet, he made little Polly step
+on each one of them to make the impression of her feet. So those foot
+prints in that fireplace are Aunt Polly's when she was five years old.
+She grew up there and married, and lived there until her death.
+
+"Miss Ida Knight's house (formerly the Sims house) was built not later
+than 1840. Dr. Thompson lived there first. Dr. Billy Sims married Dr.
+Thompson's sister, Miss Patsy, and that is how the house got into the
+Sims family. The old post office was known as Simstown, and I believe it
+was up near the Nat Gist mansion. Simstown was the name for the river
+community for years, because the Sims settled there and they were
+equally or more prominent than the Thompsons and Gists in that
+community. All the Sims men were country doctors.
+
+"To this community at the close of the Confederate War, came old man
+Ogle Tate, his wife, and Ben Shell, as refugees, fleeing from the
+Yankees. When they came into the community, Nat Gist gave them a nice
+house to live in on his plantation.
+
+"Mr. Gregory got all the sheet iron used on the Meador and Gist
+plantations, and also on the Sims and Thompson plantations. Plows were
+made in his blacksmith shop from 10 inch sheet iron. The sheet was
+heated and beaten into shape with his hammer. After cooling, the tools
+could be sharpened. Horse and mule shoes were made from slender iron
+rods, bought for that purpose. They were called 'slats', and this grade
+of iron was known as 'slat iron'. The shoe was moulded while hot, and
+beaten into the correct shape to fit the animal's foot. Those old shoes
+fit much better than the store-bought ones of more recent days. The
+horseshoe nails were made there, too. In fact, every farm implement of
+iron was made from flat or sheet iron.
+
+"I spun the first pants that I wore. Ma sewed them for me, and wove and
+finished them with her hands. She made the thread that they were sewed
+with by hand on the loom. I made cloth for all my shirts. I wore
+home-made cotton underwear in summer and winter, for we were poor. Of
+course my winter clothes were heavier.
+
+"We raised some sheep, and the winter woolens were made from the wool
+sheared from the sheep every May. Wool was taken to the factory at
+Bivensville and there made into yarn. Often, cotton was swapped for yarn
+to warp at home. Then ma ran it off on spools for her loom. 'Sleigh
+hammers' were made from cane gotten off the creek banks and bottoms.
+
+"Aunt Polly Meador had no patrollers on her place. She would not allow
+one there, for she did her own patrolling with her own whip and two bull
+dogs. She never had an overseer on her place, either. Neither did she
+let Uncle Johnny do the whipping. Those two dogs held them and she did
+her own whipping. One night she went to the quarter and found old 'Bill
+Pea Legs' there after one of her negro women. He crawled under the bed
+when he heard Aunt Polly coming. Those dogs pulled old 'Pea Legs' out
+and she gave him a whipping that he never forgot. She whipped the woman,
+also.
+
+"Morg was Morrow's nickname. Morg used to sit on the meat block and cut
+the meat for Aunt Polly to give out. Morg would eat her three pounds of
+raw meat right there. Uncle Johnny asked her what she would do all the
+week without any meat, she said that she would take the skin and grease
+her mouth every morning; then go on to the field or house and do her
+work, and wait until the next Saturday for more.
+
+"I do not know how old I am, but I well remember when Wheeler's men came
+to the plantation. They tore up everything. We heard that they were
+coming, so we dug holes and buried the meat and everything we could. We
+hid them so well that we could never find some of them ourselves.
+Wheeler and 36 men stopped on the Dick Jeter place. I think that was in
+1864. The Jeter place touched Miss Polly's plantation. The Jeter place
+was right near Neal Shoals on Broad River. Mr. Jeter had the biggest gin
+house in the entire township. Old Mr. Dick was at home because he was
+too old to go to the war. Pa was still in the war then, of course. Ma
+and I and one of the other children and a few darkies were at our home.
+
+"We saw Wheeler and his men when they stopped at that gin house. They
+began to ransack immediately. Wheeler gave some orders to his men and
+galloped off towards our house. The negroes ran but ma and I stayed in
+the house. Wheeler rode up in front of the door and spoke to my mother.
+He said that he had to feed his men and horses and asked her where the
+corn was. She told him that the gin house and the crib which contained
+the corn did not belong to her, so she could not give him the keys. At
+that he ordered his men to remove a log from the crib. By this means
+they broke into the crib and got all the corn. They then ransacked the
+house and took everything there was to eat. They tore out the big cog
+wheel in the gin and camped in it for the night. Next morning they set
+fire to the gin and then galloped away. Soon Mr. Jeter's big gin had
+gone up in flames. They took all of our corn and all of the fodder, 200
+bundles that we had in the barn, away with them."
+
+  Source: Mr. John Boyd, County Home, Union, R. F. D.
+  Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 1/26/38
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  May 24, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Newberry County, near the Laurens County line, above
+Little River. Me and my mother belonged to the Workman family.
+Afterwards, I belonged to Madison Workman. He was a good man to his
+slaves. My work was around the house and home. I was too young to work
+in the fields until after the war.
+
+"I can't remember much about them times. I married there and soon after
+come to town and lived, where I have worked ever since. I do washing and
+other work.
+
+"On the farm, the old folks had to cook outdoors, or in a kitchen away
+off from the house. They had wide fireplaces where they put their pots
+to cook the meals.
+
+"I remember the old Little River Presbyterian Church where people would
+go on Sundays. They would go in the mornings, and again in the
+afternoons and have preaching."
+
+  Source: Jane Bradley (80), Newberry, S. C.
+  Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. May 17, 1937
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ANDY BRICE
+  EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Andy Brice lives with his wife and two small children, about twelve
+miles east of Ridgeway, S. C., in a two-room frame building, chimney in
+the center. The house is set in a little cluster of pines one hundred
+and fifty yards north of state highway #34. Andy, since the amputation
+of his right leg five years ago, has done no work and is too old to
+learn a trade. He has a regular beggar's route including the towns of
+Ridgeway, Winnsboro, Woodward, and Blackstock. His amiability and good
+nature enable him to go home after each trip with a little money and a
+pack of miscellaneous gifts from white friends.
+
+"Howdy Cap'n! I come to Winnsboro dis mornin' from way 'cross Wateree,
+where I live now 'mongst de bull-frogs and skeeters. Seem lak they just
+sing de whole night thru: 'De bull-frog on de bank, and de skeeter in de
+pool.' Then de skeeter sail 'round my face wid de tra la, la la la, la
+la la part of dat old song you is heard, maybe many times.
+
+"I see a spit-box over dere. By chance, have you got any 'bacco? Make me
+more glib if I can chew and spit; then I 'members more and better de
+things done past and gone.
+
+"I was a slave of Mistress Jane. Her was a daughter of old Marster
+William Brice. Her marry Henry Younge and mammy was give to Marse Henry
+and Miss Jane.
+
+"My pappy name Tony. Mammy name Sallie. You is seen her a many a day.
+Marse Henry got kilt in de war. His tombstone and Mistress Jane's
+tombstone am in Concord Cemetery. They left two chillun, Miss Kittie and
+Miss Maggie. They both marry a Caldwell; same name but no kin. Miss
+Kittie marry Marse Joe Caldwell and move to Texas. Miss Maggie marry
+Marse Camel Caldwell and move to North Carolina.
+
+"My pappy die durin' de war. After freedom, mammy marry a ugly, no
+'count nigger name Mills Douglas. She had one child by him, name Janie.
+My mammy name her dat out of memory and love for old mistress, in
+slavery time. I run away from de home of my step-pappy and got work wid
+Major Thomas Brice. I work for him 'til I become a full grown man and
+come to be de driver of de four-hoss wagon.
+
+"One day I see Marse Thomas a twistin' de ears on a fiddle and rosinin'
+de bow. Then he pull dat bow 'cross de belly of dat fiddle. Sumpin' bust
+loose in me and sing all thru my head and tingle in my fingers. I make
+up my mind, right then and dere, to save and buy me a fiddle. I got one
+dat Christmas, bless God! I learn and been playin' de fiddle ever since.
+I pat one foot while I playin'. I kept on playin' and pattin' dat foot
+for thirty years. I lose dat foot in a smash up wid a highway accident
+but I play de old tunes on dat fiddle at night, dat foot seem to be dere
+at de end of dat leg (indicating) and pats just de same. Sometime I
+ketch myself lookin' down to see if it have come back and jined itself
+up to dat leg, from de very charm of de music I makin' wid de fiddle and
+de bow.
+
+"I never was very popular wid my own color. They say behind my back, in
+'76, dat I's a white folks nigger. I wear a red shirt then, drink red
+liquor, play de fiddle at de 'lection box, and vote de white folks
+ticket. Who I marry? I marry Ellen Watson, as pretty a ginger cake
+nigger as ever fried a batter cake or rolled her arms up in a wash tub.
+How I git her? I never git her; dat fiddle got her. I play for all de
+white folks dances down at Cedar Shades, up at Blackstock. De money roll
+in when someone pass 'round de hat and say: 'De fiddler?' Ellen had more
+beaux 'round her than her could shake a stick at but de beau she lak
+best was de bow dat could draw music out of them five strings, and draw
+money into dat hat, dat jingle in my pocket de nex' day when I go to see
+her.
+
+"I 'members very little 'bout de war, tho' I was a good size boy when de
+Yankees come. By instint, a nigger can make up his mind pretty quick
+'bout de creed of white folks, whether they am buckra or whether they am
+not. Every Yankee I see had de stamp of poor white trash on them. They
+strutted 'round, big Ike fashion, a bustin' in rooms widout knockin',
+talkin' free to de white ladies, and familiar to de slave gals,
+ransackin' drawers, and runnin' deir bayonets into feather beds, and
+into de flower beds in de yards.
+
+"What church I b'long to? None. Dat fiddle draws down from hebben all de
+sermons dat I understan'. I sings de hymns in de way I praise and
+glorify de Lord.
+
+"Cotton pickin' was de biggest work I ever did, outside of drivin' a
+wagon and playin' de fiddle. Look at them fingers; they is supple. I
+carry two rows of cotton at a time. One week I pick, in a race wid
+others, over 300 pounds a day. Commencin' Monday, thru Friday night, I
+pick 1,562 pounds cotton seed. Dat make a bale weighin' 500 pounds, in
+de lint.
+
+"Ellen and me have one child, Sallie Ann. Ellen 'joy herself; have a
+good time nussin' white folks chillun. Nussed you; she tell me 'bout it
+many time. 'Spect she mind you of it very often. I knows you couldn't
+git 'round dat woman; nobody could. De Lord took her home fifteen years
+ago and I marry a widow, Ida Belton, down on de Kershaw County side.
+
+"You wants me to tell 'bout dat 'lection day at Woodward, in 1878? You
+wants to know de beginnin' and de end of it? Yes? Well, you couldn't wet
+dis old man's whistle wid a swallow of red liquor now? Couldn't you or
+could you? Dis was de way of it: It was set for Tuesday. Monday I drive
+de four-hoss wagon down to dis very town. Marse John McCrory and Marse
+Ed Woodward come wid me. They was in a buggy. When us got here, us got
+twenty, sixteen shooters and put them under de hay us have in de wagon.
+Bar rooms was here. I had fetched my fiddle 'long and played in Marse
+Fred Habernick's bar 'til dinner time. Us leave town 'bout four o'clock.
+Roads was bad but us got home 'bout dark. Us put de guns in Marse Andy
+Mobley's store. Marse Ed and me leave Marse John to sleep in de store
+and to take care of de guns.
+
+"De nex' mornin', polls open in de little school house by de brick
+church. I was dere on time, help to fix de table by de window and set de
+ballot boxes on it. Voters could come to de window, put deir arms thru
+and tuck de vote in a slit in de boxes. Dere was two supervisors, Marse
+Thomas for de Democrats and Uncle Jordan for de Radicals. Marse Thomas
+had a book and a pencil, Uncle Jordan had de same.
+
+"Joe Foster, big buckra nigger, want to vote a stranger. Marse Thomas
+challenge dis vote. In them times colored preachers so 'furiate de
+women, dat they would put on breeches and vote de 'Publican radical
+ticket. De stranger look lak a woman. Joe Foster 'spute Marse Thomas'
+word and Marse Thomas knock him down wid de naked fist. Marse Irish
+Billy Brice, when him see four or five hindred blacks crowdin' 'round
+Marse Thomas, he jump thru de window from de inside. When he lit on de
+ground, pistol went off pow! One nigger drop in his tracks. Sixteen men
+come from nowhere and sixteen, sixteen shooters. Marse Thomas hold up
+his hand to them and say: 'Wait!' Him point to de niggers and say:
+'Git.' They start to runnin' 'cross de railroad, over de hillside and
+never quit runnin' 'til they git half a mile away. De only niggers left
+on dat ground was me, old Uncle Kantz, (you know de old mulatto,
+club-foot nigger) well, me and him and Albert Gladney, de hurt nigger
+dat was shot thru de neck was de only niggers left. Dr. Tom Douglas took
+de ball out Albert's neck and de white folks put him in a wagon and sent
+him home. I drive de wagon. When I got back, de white boys was in de
+graveyard gittin' names off de tombstones to fill out de talley sheets,
+dere was so many votes in de box for de Hampton ticket, they had to vote
+de dead. I 'spect dat was one resurrection day all over South
+Carolina."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Nov. 10, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I is gwine over to Tosch to see Maria. Everybody know Maria. She go by
+Rice--Maria Rice. She sont fer me to cure her misery. First, I went from
+my home in lower Cross Keys, across de Enoree, to see Maria. When I
+reached dar whar she stay, dey tell me dat her daughter over to Tosch.
+Done come and got her.
+
+"A kind friend dat de Lawd put in my path fetched me back across de
+Enoree and over to Tosch to Maria's gal's house. I is gwine straight
+over dar and lay my hand on Maria and rid her of dat misery dat she sont
+word was ailing her all dis spring. Don't make no diff'uns whar you
+hurts--woman, man or suckling babe--if you believes in de holler of my
+hand, it'll ease you, allus do it. De Bible say so, dat's why it be
+true. Ain't gwine to tell you nothing but de truth and de whole truth,
+so help me Jesus. Gone 65 years, I is been born agin dat long; right
+over in Padgett's Creek church, de white folks' church, dat's what de
+Lawd tuck my sins away and washed me clean agin wid His blood. Dat's why
+I allus sticks to de truth, I does.
+
+"Dey all 'lows dat I is gwine on 89, and I has facts to believe it am
+true. I 'longed to Marse Jesse Briggs. Did you know dat it was two Jesse
+Briggs? Yes sir, sho was two Jesse Briggses.
+
+"What I gwine to relate to you is true, but in respect to my old Marse,
+and in de case dat dem what reads dat book won't understand, you needs
+not to write dis statement down. My marster was called 'Black Jesse',
+but de reason fer dat was to keep him from gitting mixed up wid de other
+Jesse. Dat is de secret of de thing. Now dat's jes' fer your own light
+and knowledge, and not to be wrote down. He was de blacksmith fer all de
+Cross Keys section, and fer dat very thing he got de name by everybody,
+'Black Jesse'. I allus 'longed to dat man and he was de kindest man what
+de countryside had knowledge of.
+
+"In Union County is whar I was born and raised, and it's whar I is gwine
+to be buried. Ain't never left de county but once in my life, and if de
+Lawd see fitten, I ain't gwine to leave it no mo', 'cept to reach de
+Promise Land. Lawd! Lawd! De Promise Land, dat's whar I is gwine when I
+leaves Union County. Dey carried me a hundred miles to cure a sick
+woman, onliest time I ever left Union County. I loves it and I is fit
+throughout and enduring de time dem Yankees tried to git de county, to
+save it. What is I gwine to leave it fer? Mr. Perrin and all de white
+folks is good to me since my marse done gone and left his earthly home.
+And he is waiting up dar wid Missie to see me agin. Dat I is sho of.
+
+"Listen brother, de Lawd is setting on His throne in Glory. He hear
+every word dat I gwine to tell you. Folks fergits dat when dey talks
+real often sometimes, don't dey? I put my hand on any 'flux' man or
+woman and removes de pain, if dey have faith in my hand. I don't tell
+nothing but de truth. I was born on Gist Briggs' plantation in Union
+County, in de lower section of Cross Keys. Marse Sexton and all dem good
+folks in lower Keys says dat I sho is 88. Give my name right flat, it's
+George Briggs; giving it round, it like dis, George McDuffie Briggs. My
+papa's name was Ike Wilburn, and my mother's name was Margaret Briggs.
+Pa 'longed to Marse Lige Wilburn. Mama 'longed to Jesse (Black Jesse)
+Briggs. Dey both born and raised in Union County. Dese was my brothers
+and sisters, coming in de order dey was born to my parents in: Charlie,
+Dave, Aaron, Tom, Noah, Charlotte, Polly, Fannie, Mattie, Horace,
+Cassie. I'm de oldest, and Cassie and me lives in Union County. Fannie
+and Mattie lives in Asheville, and de rest is done journeyed to de
+Promise Land. Yes Lawd, to de Promise Land.
+
+"Marse and Missus was good to us all. Missus name was Nancy. She die
+early and her grave is in Cross Keys at de Briggs graveyard. Be still!
+Lemme git my mind together so dat I don't git mixed up and can git you
+de Briggses together. Here 'tis: Cheney and Lucindy, Lucindy married a
+Floyd from Spartanburg, and de Floyds lived at de Burn't factory. Cheney
+Briggs had a son, Henry Briggs.
+
+"Not so fast, fer I'se gwine to start way back, dat time when us was
+lil' darky boys way back in slavery. We started to work wid de marster's
+mules and hosses. When us was real little, we played hoss. Befo' Cheney
+Briggs went to Arkansas he was our play hoss. His brother, Henry, was de
+wagoner and I was de mule. Henry was little and he rid our backs
+sometimes. Henry rid old man Sam, sometimes, and old man Sam jes' holler
+and haw haw at us chilluns. Dis was in sech early childhood dat it is
+not so I can 'zactly map out de exact age us was den; anyway, from dis
+we rid de gentle hosses and mules and larn't how to feed dem. Every word
+dat I tells you is de truth, and I is got to meet dat word somewhars
+else; and fer dat reason, de truth is all dat dis old man ever tells.
+
+"In dat day we lived in a log cabin or house. Sometimes us never had
+nothing to do. Our house had only one room, but some of de houses had
+two rooms. Our'n had a winder, a do', and a common fireplace. Now dey
+makes a fireplace to scare de wood away. In old days dey made fireplaces
+to take care of de chilluns in de cold weather. It warm de whole house,
+'cause it was so big and dar was plenty wood. Wood wasn't no problem
+den, and it ain't no problem yet out in de lower Keys. In town it is,
+and I ain't guessing. I done seed so.
+
+"I sho can histronize de Confederates. I come along wid de Secession
+flag and de musterings. I careful to live at home and please de Marse.
+In de war, I'se mo' dan careful and I stick close to him and please him,
+and he mo' dan good. Us did not git mobbed up like lots of dem did.
+
+"When Tice Myers' chilluns was born, he had a house built wid a
+up-stairs. But never no stage coach stopped dar as I ever heard tell
+about, and I done saw 75 years at Padgett's Creek.
+
+"Way 'tis, from de bundle of de heart, de tongue speaketh. Been in
+service reg'lar since Monday. I went to Neal Greege's house but she
+wasn't dar. I is speaking 'bout Ria (Maria Rice). She done gone to town.
+At de highway, de Lawd prepared a friend to carry me to Union, and when
+I got dar I take and lay hands on Ria Rice, she laying down and
+suffering, and I sot down and laid my hand on her. We never say nothing,
+jes' pray. She be real quiet, and atter while, she riz up and take a
+breath. She kept on a setting up fer so long dat her husband make her
+lay back down fer fear dat she git worser. I stay dar all through de
+night and she sleep sound and wake up dis morning feeling like a new
+woman.
+
+"Befo' breakfast, here is de words of praise I lifted to de Lawd, over
+dar on Tosch. You set down de coser (chorus): 'First to de graveyard;
+den to de Jedgement bar!' Is you got dat verser (verses)? Den git dis:
+'All de deacons got to go; all de members got to go; all de sinners got
+to go.' Mo' 'longs to it, but dat's all I takes when I is praising Him
+fer relieving pain through me. (He sings each line five times. He takes
+off his hat; bows; holds his hands over his head, and closes his eyes
+while singing. His hair is snow white.)
+
+"Lawd, help me dis morning! Here's another first line to one of our
+songs: 'All dem preachers got to go'.
+
+"Nehemiah, when he wid de king, de king axed him to reveal de wall whar
+his father was buried. Nehemiah did what de king had done axed him. I
+'tends Galilee Baptist church in lower Cross Keys; and at Sedalia, I
+goes to New Hope Methodist church, but I don't know nothing else but
+Baptist. We peoples is barrence (barren of the Holy Spirit), but not
+God; He, Hisself, is born of God, and all is of de same source and by
+dat I means de Spirit. All has to be born of de Spirit to become
+chilluns of God. Romans, Chap. 6, 'lows something like dis: 'He dat is
+dead in sin, how is it dat he can continue in sin?' Dat tell us dat
+every man, white or black, is de child of God. And it is Christ dat is
+buried in baptism, and we shall be buried in like manner. If Christ did
+not rise, den our preaching is in vain. And if we is not born agin, why
+den we is lost and our preaching is in vain.
+
+"In picking up de New Testament, consider all dat you hear me arguing
+and saying is from a gift and not from edication. Romans 6, 'lows:
+'Speak plain words, not round words, kaise all de round words is fer dem
+dat is edicated.' Jacob had twelve sons. Dey went and bundled up deir
+wheat, and eleven bundles bowed to de one. Dat Joseph's bundle what he
+done up. Other brothers up and got and sold Joseph into captivity to de
+Egyptians. Dat throw'd Jacob to send Reuben to Egypt. Den dey bowed to
+Jacob and his sons. It run on and on till dey all had to go to Egypt,
+and all of dem had to live under Joseph.
+
+"When I was a little shaver and come to myself. I was sleeping in a
+corded bed. (He scratched his head) I jes' studying fer a minute; can't
+'zactly identify my grandpa, but I can identify my grandma. We all
+raised on de same place together. She name Cindy Briggs, but dey call
+her Cina kaise dar was so many Cindys 'round dar. One thing I does
+'member 'bout her, if she tote me, she sho to whip me. I was raised
+strict.
+
+"All my life I is stayed in de fur (far) end of Union County whar it
+borders Laurens, wid de Enoree dividing de two counties. It is right dar
+dat I is plowed and hoed and raised my craps fer de past 75 years, I
+reckons. Lawd have mercy! No, I doesn't recalls de names of none of dem
+mules. Dat's so fur back dat I is jes' done forgot, dat's all. But I
+does recall 'fur back' things de best, sometimes. Listen good now. When
+I got big and couldn't play 'round at chillun's doings, I started to
+platting cornshucks and things fer making hoss and mule collars, and
+scouring-brooms and shoulder-mats. I cut hickory poles and make handles
+out of dem fer de brooms. Marse had hides tanned, and us make buggy
+whips, wagon whips, shoe strings, saddle strings and sech as dat out of
+our home-tanned leather. All de galluses dat was wo' in dem days was
+made by de darkies.
+
+"White oak and hickory was split to cure, and we made fish baskets, feed
+baskets, wood baskets, sewing baskets and all kinds of baskets fer de
+Missus. All de chair bottoms of straight chairs was made from white oak
+splits, and de straight chairs was made in de shop. You made a scouring
+brush like dis: (He put his hands together to show how the splits were
+held) By splitting a width of narrow splits, keep on till you lay a
+entire layer of splits; turn dis way; den dat way, and den bind together
+and dat hold dem like you want dem to stay. Last, you work in a pole as
+long as you want it fer de handle, and bind it tight and tie wid de
+purtiest knots.
+
+"I git money fer platting galluses and making boot strings and other
+little things. Allus first, I desires to be well qualified wid what I
+does. I is gwine to be qualified wid everything dat I does, iffen I does
+it fer money or no. Dat's de reason white people has allus give me words
+of encouragement.
+
+"Now I gwine to sing a song fer Miss Polly, kaise she de grand-daughter
+of de late Sheriff Long, and I goes to see her grandma at de Keys (Cross
+Keys House). Dar she come now.
+
+"How is you dis morning, Miss Polly? De Lawd sho does shower you, Miss
+Polly, and dat's de reason I is gwine to sing fer you dis morning.
+You'll be able to tell Mr. Jimmie (her father) dat Uncle George sing fer
+you, 'Jesus Listening All De Day Long'.
+
+  "Jesus listening all de day long to hear some sinner pray.
+  De winding sheet to wrop (wrap) dis body in,
+  De coffin to hold you fast;
+  Pass through death's iron do'.
+  Come ye dat love de Lawd and let your joy be know'd;
+  Dis iron gate you must pass through, if you gwine to be
+  Born agin."
+
+He sang these lines over three times and then bowing, said: "Ain't it
+glory dat we can live whar de Lawd can use us? Dat's power. A strong man
+entereth in; a weak man cometh out. Dat represent Christ gwine into your
+heart.
+
+"Sho I can remember when dey had de mustering grounds at de Keys. Dar
+day mustered and den dey turn't in and practiced drilling dem soldiers
+till dey larn't how to march and to shoot de Yankees. Drilling, dat's de
+proper word, not practice, I knows, if I ain't ed'icated. Dey signed me
+to go to de 16th regiment, but I never reached de North. When us got to
+Charleston, us turn't around and de bosses fetched us right back to
+Union through Columbia. Us heard dat Sherman was coming, fetching fire
+along 'hind him.
+
+"Don't know nothing 'bout no militia to make no statement, but it went
+on and turn't back. Another regiment had a barbecue somewhars in Union
+County befo' it went off to war; might a been de 18th regiment, but I
+does not feel dat I can state on dat.
+
+"My soul reaches from God's foot-stool up to his heavenly home. I can
+histronize de poor white folks' wives and chilluns enduring de time of
+de Civil War fer you. When dese poor white men went to de war, dey left
+deir little chillun and deir wives in de hands of de darkies dat was
+kind and de rich wives of our marsters to care fer. Us took de best care
+of dem poor white dat us could under de circumstances dat prevailed.
+
+"We was sont to Sullivan's Island, but befo' we reached it, de Yankees
+done got it and we won't 'lowed to cross in '64. But jes' de same, we
+was in service till dey give Capt. Franklin Bailey 'mission to fetch us
+home. Dar we had to git 'mission fer everything, jes' as us niggers had
+to git 'mission to leave our marster's place at home in Union County.
+Capt. Bailey come on back to Cross Keys wid us under his protection, and
+we was under it fer de longest time atter we done got home.
+
+"Fer 65 years I been licensed as a preacher, and fer longer dan dat I
+been a member of Padgett's Creek Baptist church. Mo' work I does, mo'
+work I has to do. You know how to pray. Well, you does not know how to
+make polish out of pinders.
+
+"I ain't ed'icated yet, but even Lige what teaches school out to de Keys
+(de big black school), dat big black buck dat teaches de chilluns deir
+'rithmetic; even he couldn't do dis here one. A heap of ed'icated folks
+can't give it. Here it is: 'What's de biggest figger in de figger ten?'"
+
+With his old black, rough and gnarled forefinger he drew on the table
+the figure 1. "Now you see dat? Dat's de figger 1. A naught ain't
+nothing by itself or multiplied by other naughts; but set it down in
+front of de figger 1, and it takes on de value 9. Dar you is got
+ten--one and nine is ten. Dat naught becomes something. I is old, and I
+ain't had narry bit of schooling, but I likes to be close to de orchard,
+and I knows it's dar by de smell of it. Dat's de way I is when I gits
+along side ed'icated folks--I knows dat dey is.
+
+"It's like dat sum dem scholars couldn't git; standing alone dat naught
+ain't worth nothing, but set it up against dat which is of value and it
+takes on value. Set a naught ag'inst dat which is one and you has ten;
+set up another naught dar and you has a hundred. Now if somebody was to
+give me a note worth $10, and I found room to add another naught along
+side of de first; den dem two naughts what ain't worth nothing by
+deirselves gives de note de value of $99 if dey is sot along wid de one.
+Ed'icated folks calls dat raising de note. I is ig'nant and I calls dat
+robbery. And dat's like you and me. We is naughts and Christ is de
+_One_, and we ain't nothing till we carries de Spirit of de Lawd along
+wid us.
+
+"On de pathway of life, may you allus keep Christ in front of you and
+you will never go wrong. De Lawd will den see fit to give you a soul dat
+will reach from His foot-stool here on earth to His dwelling place on
+high." He ended with a deep sob and good-bye.
+
+  Source: George Briggs (88), Union, S. C. RFD 2.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 6/9/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  July 20, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"Some white men called in question today about de reigning governor
+enduring time of de Civil War. I knowed dat, and 'cides dat, I knowed
+him well. It was Governor 'Bill' as us called him.
+
+"What you want to git, is history about muster grounds. Yes, it was on
+Jones Ferry Road, jest south of Cross Keys whar dey had what dey allus
+called de muster field. Now, Jones Ferry Road leads across Enoree River
+into Laurens County. Enoree River is de thing dat devides Union County
+from Laurens County, dat it is.
+
+"Well as I remember, Mr. Bill Ray was in de mustering of de 18th
+Regiment. Billy, Robert, Sara and Miss Nancy was Mr. Alex's chilluns.
+Understand me, don't think dat Bob and Sam was in de Regiment ...
+satisfied Billy was, kaise he used to pass our house on horse back,
+coming from de Laurens side where he lived.
+
+"Sixteen-year-old boys come in de same time dat I did. Course I ain't
+told all dat I knows, kaise dat wouldn't be proper. All I tell you, I
+wants it to be recognized. De better it's done, de better it'll help
+you.
+
+"I goes from home and stays five days or more, and don't nothing happen
+to a thing at my home. I does fer de sick and de Lawd blesses me. He
+looks atter my things while I am away. He soon shows his presence atter
+I gits dar. He calls fer me and I feeds Him.
+
+"Once had 26 biles (boils). Dat make me consider my disobedience against
+de Lawd. Den I went to Him in prayer. He told me Satan done got ahead of
+Him. Dat show me dat I done forgot to be particular. I got mo' 'ticular
+and pray mo' often, and in six weeks my biles had done all gone.
+
+"Dar is times when I gits lost fer not knowing. I can't keep up, kaise I
+cannot read. Man in Sunday school reads and I hears. He read de olden
+Testament; den he read de new Testament. Dat my schooling. I 'clar unto
+you, I got by all my life by praying and thinking. I sho does think a
+lot. ('Uncle' George's facial and scalp muscles work so when he thinks,
+that his straw hat moves up and down.)
+
+"When good man prays fer bad man, de Holy Ghost works on bad man's
+consciousness, and afo' he knows it, he's a-saying 'Lawd have Mercy'
+'stead of 'G'dam', like all wicked folks says every day. He--dat de Holy
+Ghost dat I still is speaking of--jest penetrates de wicked man's
+consciousness widout him a-knowing it. Dat penetrating make de bad man
+say, 'Lawd have Mercy.' I hoes and I cuts sprouts, and den I plows. When
+you plows, mules is allus so aggravating dat dey gits you all ruffled
+up. Dat de devil a-working at you. Dat's all old mules is anyhow. I does
+not cuss, nohow, kaise it sho am wicked and I is had de Holy Spirit in
+my soul, now gone sixty-five years, since I jined Padgett Creek Church.
+When my old mule gits to de row's end, and he act mulish--kaise dat's in
+him and he don't know nothing else to do--I means to say either 'ha' or
+'gee', and often since I jined Padgett Creek Church I finds myself
+saying 'Lawd have Mercy' 'stead of 'gee' or 'ha'. So you see dat de Lawd
+has command, whar-so-ever if I was wicked, Satan would.
+
+"A child fo God allus will agree wid de Word of God. We mens dat claim
+to be leaders in de Kingdom, got to step up and sho folks what dey must
+do. Man learns right smart from Exodus 'bout how to lead. A male child
+was born to rule de world. Moses still de strongest impression dat we
+has as rulers. God gits Hisself into de heads of men dat he wants to
+rule and He don't tell nobody else nothing 'bout it neither.
+
+"Mr. Roosevelt de president and he sho looks atter de po' folks. He
+ain't no ig'nant man neither, kaise he got de light. Folks ain't a-gwine
+to drown him out neither wid dere wicked words 'gainst him, kaise he
+strive in de Lawd's name to do His will. Mr. Roosevelt got learning like
+I is from de throne of God. He may have education also, but if he is, he
+sho knows how to keep dem both jined together. Folks reads to me how he
+got crippled and how he washed in dem springs in Georgia, and dat keep
+him a-gwine right on anyhow. It ain't dem springs by deself, but it's
+God a dipping his hand down dar fer de President to git well. Oh yes,
+suh, I knows dat he twan't de president when he was a-washing, but dem
+de plans dat de Lawd had done already planned and you and me never
+know'd nothing 'bout all dat. You and me does not know what is planned
+up in sto' fer us in de future neither.
+
+"I is a Baptist, and at Padgett's Creek we does not believe in no
+back-sliding. 'Once in de Spirit, allus in de Spirit'. A child of your'n
+is allus a child of your'n. Dat de way de Baptist teach--once a child of
+God, allus God's child. T'ain't no sech thing as drapping back. If you
+draps back, you ain't never been no child of de Lawd, and you never had
+no business being baptized. Christ was baptized in de waters of Jordan,
+won't (weren't) He? Well, He never drapped back, did He? He say we must
+follow in His footsteps, didn't He? Well, dar you is, and dat's all dar
+is to it.
+
+"God gits in de heads of men to help de aged and de po' also. I never
+axes fer nothing, but when I sets around de courthouse and informs men
+as I been doing dis evening, de Lawd has dem to drap a nickle or a dime
+or a quarter in my hand but He never gits dem to a half of a dollar."
+
+  Source: George Briggs, (88) Rt. 2, Union, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/12/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  July 12, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"What-so-ever I can find! I traveling dat way over 73 years. If he ax de
+Lawd and have faith, he ken do; and iffen he don't have no faith, by den
+he can't. When a man comes along dat wants his own way, and he won't pay
+no attention to de Lawd, by den de Lawd don't pay him no mind; and so
+dat man jest keeps a-gwine on wid his way and he don't never reach de
+Cross. Jesus say, 'deny yourself, pick up de Cross and follow Me.'
+
+"I see a man in de courthouse dis morning, and he was like Nicodemus.
+Why dat man want to be resto'd back like he was when he was jest 21
+years old. I seed him setting down dar in Mr. Perrin's office, and I
+knowed his troubles when he 'low dat he done been to every doctor in
+town. De trouble was, he never had no faith in de doctors and nobody
+else. How could he have faith in Jesus when he never had none in nothing
+else? Brother, you has to have faith in your fellowman befo' you has
+faith in de Lawd. I don't know how come, but dat's de way it is. My plan
+is working by faith. Jesus say, 'Work widout faith ain't nothing; but
+work wid faith'll move mountains'.
+
+"Dat man told me he gwine give me a hundred dollars if I rid him of
+misery. Dat show he never know nothing 'bout faith.
+
+"If Mr. Emslie Nicholson ax me to rid him of a misery, I couldn't take
+no money from him, and he de richest man in all Union County. Mr.
+Nicholson would know better dan to offer me money, kaise he has faith.
+You know he's a good 'Presmuterian' (Presbyterian).
+
+"Dey looks at de back of my head, and de hair on it ain't rubbed against
+no college and fer dat reason dese young negroes don't want me to
+preach. Dey wants to hear dat man preach dat can read. Man dat can read
+can't understand less'n some divine man guide him. I speak as my Teacher
+gives it to me, dat's de Lawd. In so doing, I testify de word dat no man
+can condemn. Dat is my plan of Salvation: to work by faith widout price
+or purse, as de Lawd, my Teacher has taught me.
+
+"Dar was no church on our plantation when I was a boy. All de Baptists
+went to Padgett's Creek, and all de Methodist went to Quaker Church and
+Belmont. Padgett's Creek had a section in de back of de church fer de
+slaves to sit. Quaker Church and Belmont both had slaves' galleries. Dar
+is a big book at Padgetts wid three pages of slaves' names that was
+members. Mr. Claude Sparks read it to me last year. All de darky members
+dead, but one, dat's me.
+
+"Nobody never read de Bible to me when I was little. It jest a gift of
+God dat teached to me through de Holy Ghost. It's de Spirit of de One in
+Three dat gits into you, and dat's de Holy Ghost or de Holy Spirit dat
+gives me my enlightment.
+
+"If I can git to de do' of Padgett's Creek Church, I can jest feel de
+Power of God. ('Uncle' George pats his foot and softly cries at this
+point, and his face takes on a calm and peaceful expression.)
+
+"If you eats befo' you gits hongry, you never will feast on dead air. I
+makes it a practice to feed my soul and body befo' dey gits hongry. Even
+I does eat by myself, dis old man take off his hat and ax de Lawd to
+bless his soul and body in nourishment fer de future.
+
+"I ain't never seed Mr. Lincoln, but from what I learn't dey said dat
+God had placed in him de revelation to give de plan dat he had fer every
+man. Dat plan fer every man to worship under his own vine and fig tree.
+From dat, we should of liked Mr. Lincoln.
+
+"Dis here 'Dick Look-Up'. No sir, I don't know him, kaise I caught his
+name since I come on dis side of de river. Mr. Perrin knows him, and I
+heard him say dat every time anybody ax him how old he is, he add on ten
+years. Dat's how come dey got in de paper he a hundred and twenty-five
+years old. Now me and Mr. Perrin doesn't speak unless we is obleeged to
+know dat what we is gwine to say is de truth. Us is careful, kaise us
+knows dat de Lawd am looking down from his throne, and dat He is
+checking every word dat we says. Some folks does not recall dat fact
+when dey speaks, or dey would be careful.
+
+"I'll say it slow so dat you can catch it; I start in time of de
+Confederate War. Wid dirt dug up out of de smokehouse, water was run
+through it so us could get salt fer bread. Hickory wood ashes was used
+fer soda. If we didn't have no hickory wood, we burnt red corn cobs; and
+de ashes from dem was used fer cooking soda.
+
+"Molasses was made from watermelons in time of de war. Dey was also made
+from May-apples or may-pops as some call dem, and sometimes dey was made
+from persimmons and from wheat brand. In Confederate days, Irish potato
+tops was cooked fer vegetables. Blackberry leaves was ocassionally used
+fer greens or fer seasoning lambs quarters.
+
+"Dis way watermelon was done: Soak watermelon twenty and four hours to
+de'self; strain off all juice and put on fire to bile. When dey thickens
+dey bees good. Yes sir, good, good.
+
+"Wid may-pops: peel de outside green off, den bust 'em open and mash up
+together; strain juice off and cook thick.
+
+"'Simmons and wheat bran are mashed up together and baked in water. Let
+set twenty and four hours and cook down to molasses. Dat winds up dat
+part of it.
+
+"Git plums and blackberries and de like of dat and make up in Jelly, or
+can fer scarce times, dat's de way we done den and folks does dat yet.
+Dese is some of de particularest things of de Confederate times dat I
+come back from Sedalia to give you, dat's right. (This old negro, who
+had already been interviewed by the writer, came a long way and
+looked-up the author to tell him some incidents which he had forgotten
+to tell in the first interview.) Some customs is done went by now, but
+dey was practiced in Sedalia, and as to whar dem was done fer off as
+Spartanburg, I cannot say.
+
+"In Confederate time, all wimmens stayed close home and carded and spun
+all de day long. Dey wove all dere own clothes. Men at home, old men,
+made leather shoes and shoe strings and belts and galloses.
+
+"Our darkies tried hard to be obedient to our master so dat we might
+obtain (keep) our pleasant home. Obedience makes it better dan
+sacrifice. I restes my mind dar."
+
+  Source: George Briggs (88), Rt. 2, Union, S. C.
+          Interviewed by: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/7/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, January 27, 1938
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  JOSEPHINE BRISTOW
+  Ex-Slave, 73 Years
+
+
+"Remembers de Confederate War, Miss. Yes, mam, I'm supposed to be, if I
+can live to see February, bout 73 year old. What age Hester say she was?
+Dat what I had thought from me en her conversation. Miss, I don'
+remember a thing more bout de war den de soldiers comin through old
+Massa's plantation en we chillun was 'fraid of dem en ran. Knew dey was
+dressed in a different direction from us white folks. All was in blue,
+you know, wid dem curious lookin hats en dem brass buttons on dey
+bodies. No, mam, dey didn' stop nowhe' bout us. Dey was ridin on horses
+en it seem like dey was in a hurry gwine somewhe'. En dey didn' stop to
+old Massa's house neither. No, mam, not to my knowin, dey didn'. Well,
+we was livin out to de plantation, we calls it, en Massa en Missus was
+livin up here to Marion. Mr. Ferdinand Gibson, dat who been us Massa in
+slavery time en Miss Connie, dat what we used to call her, was us
+Missus. To my knowin, dey didn' have no chillun dey own, but dey sho had
+plenty colored people. Yes, mam, seems like to my remembrance, my Massa
+ran bout 30 plantations en 'sides dat, he had a lot of servants right up
+here to de big house, men en women."
+
+"I was real small in dem days en far as I can remember, we lived on de
+quarter dere to old Massa's plantation in de country. Us little tots
+would go every mornin to a place up on de hill, called de milk house, en
+get our milk 'tween meals while de old folks was off workin. Oh, dey had
+a old woman to see after we chillun en tend to us in de daytime. De old
+lady dat looked after us, her name was Mary Novlin. Lord, Mr. Gibson, he
+had big farms en my mother en father, dey worked on de farms. Yes'um, my
+mother en father, I used to never wouldn' know when dey come home in de
+evenin, it would be so late. De old lady, she looked after every blessed
+thing for us all day long en cooked for us right along wid de mindin.
+Well, she would boil us corn meal hominy en give us dat mostly wid milk
+for breakfast. Den dey would have a big garden en she would boil peas en
+give us a lot of soup like dat wid dis here oven bread. Oh, dem what
+worked in de field, dey would catch dey meals when dey could. Would have
+to cook way in de night or sometimes fore day. Cose dey would take dey
+dinner rations wid dem to de field. More or less, dey would cook it in
+de field. Yes'um, dey would carry dey pots wid dem en cook right dere in
+de field whe' dey was workin. Would boil pots en make bread, too. I don'
+know how long dey had to work, mam, but I hear dem say dat dey worked
+hard, cold or hot, rain or shine. Had to hoe cotton en pick cotton en
+all such as dat. I don' know, mam, but de white folks, I guess dey took
+it dat dey had plenty colored people en de Lord never meant for dem to
+do no work. You know, white folks in dem days, dey made de colored
+people do."
+
+"De people used to spin en weave, my Lord! Like today, it cloudy en
+rainy, dey couldn' work in de field en would have to spin dat day. Man,
+you would hear dat thing windin en I remember, I would stand dere en
+want to spin so bad, I never know what to do. Won' long fore I got to
+whe' I could use de shuttle en weave, too. I bad a grandmother en when
+she would get to dat wheel, she sho know what she been doin. White folks
+used to give de colored people task to spin en I mean she could do dat
+spinnin. Yes'um, I here to tell you, dey would make de prettiest cloth
+in dat day en time. Old time people used to have a kind of dye dey
+called indigo en dey would color de cloth just as pretty as you ever did
+see."
+
+"Den I recollects dat dey would have to shuck corn some of de days en
+wouldn' nobody work in de field dat day. Oh, my Lord, dey would have de
+big eats on dem days. Would have a big pot right out to de barn whe' dey
+was shuckin corn en would boil it full as it could hold wid such as peas
+en rice en collards. Would cook big bread, too, en would save a hog's
+head for dat purpose often times."
+
+"Colored people didn' have no schools nowhe' in dat day en time. No'um,
+us didn' go to no church neither cause we was way off dere on de
+plantation en wasn' any church nowhe' bout dere, Miss. I likes to be
+truthful en I tellin you, when we was comin up, we never didn' know
+nothin 'cept what we catch from de old folks."
+
+"Old Massa, he used to come to de plantation drivin his rockaway en my
+Lord a mercy, we chillun did love to run en meet him. Dey used to have a
+great big gate to de lane of de plantation en when we been hear him
+comin, we would go a runnin en holler, 'Massa comin! Massa comin!' En he
+would come ridin through de big gate en say, 'Yonder my little niggers!
+How my little niggers? Come here en tell me how you all.' Den we would
+go a runnin to him en try to tell him what he ax us. Yes'um, we was sho
+pleased to see old Massa cause we had to stay right dere on dat
+plantation all de time round bout dat old woman what tended to us. Used
+to hear my mother en my father speak bout dey had to get a ticket from
+dey boss to go anywhe' dey wanted to go off de place. Pataroller catch
+dem off de plantation somewhe' widout dat walkin ticket, dey would whip
+dem most to death. Never didn' hear bout old Massa whippin none of dem,
+but he was very tight on dem, my father say. Cose he give dem abundance
+of rations en somethin to eat all de time, but colored people sho been
+work for what dey would get in dem days. Didn' get nothin dey never pay
+for. It been like dis, what rations us parents would get, dat would be
+to dey house en what we chillun been get would be to de old woman's
+house what took care of us."
+
+"Well, Miss, some people stays here wid me, but dey works out en I tries
+to help dem out somehow. No, mam, we all stays right here together en
+while dey on de job, I tries to look out for de chillun. I just thinkin
+bout when we come to a certain age, honey, it tough. Chillun is a heap
+of trouble, I say. Well, I was de mother of five, but dey all dead 'cept
+one. My husband, he been dead seven years. Yes'um, dis a bad little girl
+settin here in my lap en dat one over dere in de bed, he a boy what a
+right smart larger den dis one." (Little girl just can stand alone).
+(Little boy wakes up). "Son, dere you wantin to get up en I don' know
+whe' near a rag to put on you is. Dere, you want a piece of bread fore
+you is dress. Who undressed you last night nohow? Boy, you got to stand
+dere en wait till your mamma come home cause I can' find none your rags.
+What de matter wid you? You so hungry, you just standin dere wid your
+mouth droolin dat way. Dere your bread en tea on de bureau. Gwine on en
+get it." (Little boy's breakfast consisted of a cold biscuit and a
+little cold coffee poured in an empty coffee can. The little girl sat
+with a clump of cold hominy in her hand on which she nibbled.)
+
+"Lord, I think what a blessin it would be if chillun dese days was raise
+like dey used to be, Miss. Yes, mam, we had what you call strict fathers
+en mothers den, but chillun ain' got dem dese days. Oh, dey would whip
+you en put de lash to you in dat day en time. Yes'um, Miss, if we never
+do right, my father would put it to us. Sho meant what he say. Wouldn'
+never whip you on Sunday though. Say dat he would get you tomorrow. Den
+when Monday come, he would knock all bout like he had forget, but
+toreckly he would call you up en he would sho work on you. Pa say, 'I'm
+not gwine let you catch me in no lie. When I tell you I gwine cut you, I
+gwine do it.' Miss, I is had my mother to hurt me so bad till I would
+just fall down en roll in de sand. Hurt! Dey hurt, dat dey did. Wouldn'
+whip you wid no clothes on neither. Would make you pull off. Yes, mam, I
+could sniffle a week, dey been cut me such licks. Thought dey had done
+me wrong, but dey know dey ain' been doin me wrong en I mean dey didn'
+play wid me."
+
+"Miss, I think folks is livin too fast in de world today. Seems to me
+like all de young people is worser, I say. Well, I tell you, dey be
+ridin out all times of night en girls meetin up wid Miss Fortune. At
+least, our colored girls does. En don' care what dey do neither. Don'
+seem to care what dey do nor how dey do. De girls nowadays, dey gets dey
+livin. Girls settin higher den what dey makes demselves dese days."
+
+  Source: Josephine Bristow, colored, 73 years, Marion, S. C.
+                 Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Jan., 1938
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ANNE BROOME
+  EX-SLAVE 87 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"Does you recollect de Galloway place just dis side of White Oak? Well
+dere's where I was born. When? Can't name de 'zact year but my ma say,
+no stork bird never fetch me but de fust railroad train dat come up de
+railroad track, when they built de line, fetched me. She say I was a
+baby, settin' on de cow-ketcher, and she see me and say to pa: 'Reubin,
+run out dere and get our baby befo' her falls off and gets hurt under
+them wheels! Do you know I believed dat tale 'til I was a big girl? Sure
+did, 'til white folks laugh me out of it!
+
+"My ma was name Louisa. My marster was Billie Brice, but 'spect God done
+write sumpin' else on he forehead by dis time. He was a cruel marster;
+he whip me just for runnin' to de gate for to see de train run by. My
+missus was a pretty woman, flaxen hair, blue eyes, name Mary Simonton,
+'til she marry.
+
+"Us live in a two-room plank house. Plenty to eat and enough to wear
+'cept de boys run 'round in their shirt tails and de girls just a
+one-piece homespun slip on in de summer time. Dat was not a hardship
+then. Us didn't know and didn't care nothin' 'bout a 'spectable
+'pearance in those days. Dats de truth, us didn't.
+
+"Gran'pa name Obe; gran'ma, name Rachel. Shoes? A child never have a
+shoe. Slaves wore wooden bottom shoes.
+
+"My white folks went to New Hope Church. Deir chillun was mighty good to
+us all. Dere was Miss Martha, her marry Doctor Madden, right here at
+Winnsboro. Miss Mary marry Marster John Vinson, a little polite smilin'
+man, nice man, though. Then Miss Jane marry Marster John Young. He
+passed out, leavin' two lovely chillun, Kitty and Maggie. Both of them
+marry Caldwells. Dere was Marster Calvin, he marry Congressman Wallace's
+daughter, Ellen. Then dere was Marster Jim and Marster William, de last
+went to Florida.
+
+"It was a big place, I tell you, and heaps and heaps of slaves. Some
+times they git too many and sell them off. My old mistress cry 'bout dat
+but tears didn't count wid old marster, as long as de money come a
+runnin' in and de rations stayed in de smoke house.
+
+"Us had a fine carriage. Sam was de driver. Us go to Concord one Sunday
+and new Hope de next. Had quality fair neighbors. Dere was de
+Cockerells, 'Piscopalians, dat 'tend St. John in Winnsboro, de Adgers,
+big buckra, went to Zion in Winnsboro. Marster Burr Cockerell was de
+sheriff. 'Members he had to hang a man once, right in de open jailyard.
+Then dere was a poor buckra family name Marshall. Our white folks was
+good to them, 'cause they say his pappy was close kin to de biggest
+Jedge of our country, John Marshall.
+
+"When de slaves got bad off sick, marster send for Dr. Walter Brice, his
+kin folks. Some times he might send for Dr. Madden, him's son-in-law, as
+how he was.
+
+"When de Yankees come, all de young marsters was off in de 'Federate
+side. I see them now, gallopin' to de house, canteen boxes on their hips
+and de bayonets rattlin' by deir sides. De fust thing they ask, was:
+'You got any wine?' They search de house; make us sing: 'Good Old Time
+'Ligion'; put us to runnin' after de chickens and a cookin'. When they
+leave they burnt de gin house and everything in dere. They burn de
+smoke-house and wind up wid burnin' de big house.
+
+"You through wid me now, boss? I sho' is glad of dat. Help all you kin
+to git me dat pension befo' I die and de Lord will bless you, honey. De
+Lord not gwine to hold His hand any longer 'ginst us. Us cleared de
+forests, built de railroads, cleaned up de swamps, and nursed de white
+folks. Now in our old ages, I hopes they lets de old slaves like me see
+de shine of some of dat money I hears so much talk 'bout. They say it's
+free as de gift of grace from de hand of de Lord. Good mornin' and God
+bless you, will be my prayer always. Has you got a dime to give dis old
+nigger, boss?"
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  MOM HAGAR
+  (Verbatim Conversation)
+
+
+Mom Hagar Brown lives in her little weathered cabin on forty odd acres
+left by her husband, Caleb Brown. Caleb died in Georgia where he had
+been sent to the penitentiary for stealing a hog that another man stole.
+Aunt Hagar has grands settled all around her and she and the grands
+divide up the acreage which is planted in corn, sweet potatoes, cotton,
+and some highland rice. She ministers to them all when sick, acts as
+mid-wife when necessary, and divides her all with her kin and
+friends--white and black. She wages a war on ground-moles, at which she
+laughs and says she resembles. Ground-mole beans almost a foot long
+protect and decorate her yard. She has apple and fig trees, and
+scuppernong grape vines grow rank and try to climb all her trees.
+
+(Monday morning she hobbles up on a stick--limping and looking sick.)
+Comes in kitchen door.
+
+Lillie: "Aunt Hagar, how you?"
+
+Hagar: "Painful. Doctor tell me I got the tonsil. Want to represent me
+one time and take them out. I say, 'No Doctor! Get in hospital, can't
+get out! Let me stay here till my change come.' Yeddy? I ain't wuth!
+Ain't wuth! Ain't got a piece o' sense. Yeddy? Ellen say she want God to
+take she tomorrow? When you ready it's 'God take me now! All right
+son!" (Greeting Zackie who enters kitchen.)
+
+Zackie: "Aunt Hagar, how you feel?"
+
+Hagar: "I ain't wuth son. How's all?"
+
+Zackie: "Need a little more grits!"
+
+Lillie: "Hear Zackie! Mom Hagar, that ain't hinder him ordering
+another!" (The fact that food is scarce doesn't limit Zackie's family.)
+
+Hagar: "You hear bout this Jeremiah broke in somewhere--get all kinds
+likker and canned things and different thing?"
+
+Zackie: "Must a broke in that place call 'Stumble Inn!' (Very
+seriously.) That Revenue man been there."
+
+Hagar: "I yeddy last night! Say he there in news-paper. Mary say, 'see
+'em in paper!' Mrs. White gone to child funeral. That been in paper too.
+Mary see that in paper. Easter say old lady gone dere. Doctor say better
+go. Child sick. Child seven years old. Fore they get there tell 'em say,
+'Child dead!'
+
+"People gone in patch to pick watermillon. Ain't want child to go. You
+know chillun! Child gone in. Ain't want 'em for go. You know. Child pick
+watermillon. Ketch up one--I forgotten what pound they say. Roll. Roll
+duh watermillon. Roll 'em on snake! They say, 'Snake bite 'em?' Child
+say, 'No. Must a scratch.' See blood run on boy leg. Child get
+unconscion that minute. Gone right out. Jess so. Ease out so. I cry. I
+cry!"
+
+Lillie: "You know 'em, Mom Hagar?"
+
+Hagar: "No! No! Lill, fever got me! Cold get me till my rump dead. Got
+hospital boy rouse one time say, 'Ma, less go home! Red stripe snake
+bite me.'"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Hagar: "Klu Klux?" (Chin cupped in hand--elbow on knee--looking way
+off--)
+
+"Reckon that the way them old timey people call 'em. Have to run way,
+you go church. Going to come in to ketch you or do any mischievous
+thing--come carry you place they going beat you--in suit of white. Old
+white man to Wilderness Plantation. Parish old man name. Treat his wife
+bad. Come to house, ain't crack. Come right in suit of white. Drag him
+out--right to Woodstock there where Mr. Dan get shoot. Put a beating on
+that white man there till he mess up! Oman never gone back to him yet!"
+
+"A man wuz name (I forgot what the man name wuz)--wuz a white man mess
+round wid a colored woman and they didn't do a God thing but gone and
+put a beating on you, darling! Come in. Grab you and go. Put a beating
+on you till you can't see. Know they got a good grub to lick you wid.
+They git done you can't sit down. Ain't going carry you just for play
+with."
+
+"Mom Hagar, you wanter vote?"
+
+Hagar: "Oh my God!"
+
+"Aunt Hagar are the colored people happier now than the old timey
+slavery time people?"
+
+Hagar: "Young people now got the world by force. Don't care. Got more
+trick than law low. Tricky! Can't beat the old people. Can't equal to
+'em. Some the young people you say 'AMEN' in church they make fun o'
+you. Every tub stand on his own bottom. Can't truss 'em.
+
+"Ma say some dem plan to run way. Say, 'Less run! Less run!' Master
+ketch dem and fetch dem in. Lay 'em cross barrel. Beat dem till they
+wash in blood. Fetch 'em back. Place 'em cross the barrel--hogsket
+barrel--Christ! They ramp wash in blood! Beat Ma sister. He sister
+sickly. Never could clear task--like he want. My Ma have to work he self
+to death to help Henritta so sickly. Clear task to keep from beat. Some
+obersheer mean. Oaks labor. (Meaning her Ma and ma's family were
+laboring on Oaks Plantation--the plantation where Gov. Joseph Allston
+and Theodosia his wife lived on Waccamaw.) Mother Sally Doctor. Ma got
+four chillun. One was Emmeline, one Getty, one Katrine one Hagar! I
+older than Gob (Katrine). Could a call doctor for Gob if I had any
+sense." (Big nuff to gone for doctor when Gob born.)
+
+  "Stay in the field!
+  Stay in the field!
+  Stay in the field till the war been end!"
+
+(This is Aunt Hagar's favorite song)
+
+  Mom Hagar Brown--age 77
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  July 4th, 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  (Some recollections of Mom Hagar Brown)
+
+
+Visitor: "Mom Hagar, how old did you say you were?"
+
+Hagar: "Don't take care of my age! Had me gang of chillun when ma die. I
+had Samuel, I had Elias, I had Arthur, I had Beck. Oh, my God! Man, go
+way! I had Sally! I had Sally again. I didn't want to give the name
+'Sally' again. Say, 'First Sally come carry girl.' Ma say, 'Gin 'em name
+'Sally!' I faid (afraid) that other one come back for him. Had to do
+what Ma say. Had to please 'em. Ma name Sally. Ma chillun Catrine,
+Hagar, Emmeline, Gettie. I born Columbia. Come Freedom, when we left
+Columbia, ma finer till we get in Charston. Freedom come, battle till we
+get 'Oaks.' (Battled till they reached the 'Oaks Plantation--.')Stay
+there till people gin (begin) move bout. Come Watsaw. Gone 'Collins
+Creek.' In the 'Reb Time' you know, when they sell you bout--Massa sell
+you all about. Broke through them briar and branch and thing to go to
+church. Them patrol get you. Church 'Old Bethel.' You don't know 'em.
+Been gone!
+
+"I yeddy ma! (heard my mother) Ma say, 'I too glad my chillun aint been
+here Rebs time! Gin you task you rather drown than not done that task!
+Ma say Auntie poor we weak creeter, couldn't strain. Ma had to strain to
+fetch sister up with her task. Dere (there) in rice-field. Ma say they
+on flat going to islant (island), see cloud, pray God send rain! When
+rooster crow, say they pray God to stop 'em! Rooster crow, broke up
+wedder! When rooster crow, scare 'em. Broke up rain! Ma say they drag
+the pot in the river when the flat going cross. Do this to make it rain.
+Massa! Don't done you task, driver wave that whip, put you over the
+barrel, beat you so blood run down! I wouldn't take 'em! Ma say, 'I too
+glad my chillun aint born then!'
+
+"Any cash money? Where you gwine get 'em? Only cash the gospel! Have to
+get the gospel. Give you cloth! Give you ration! Jess (just according)
+many chillun you got. Ma say chillun feed all the corn to the fowl.
+
+  Chillun say,
+
+    'Papa love he fowl!
+    Papa love he fowl!
+    Three peck a day!
+    Three peck a day!
+
+"Parent come to door. Not a grain of corn leave! Poor people! Come,
+drop! Not a grain! Everybody on the hill help. One give this; one give
+that. Handle 'em light! (Very careful with victuals). Gone you till
+Saddy (Saturday.) (Will last you until Saturday when you are rationed
+again.)
+
+"When Ma get down, she say, 'I gone leave! I gone leave here now! But,
+oh, Hagar! Be a mudder and fadder for Katrine!'
+
+"I say, (I call Katrine 'Gob') I say, 'Better tell Gob to look atter
+me!'
+
+"Ma say, 'When I gone I ax the Master when he take me, to send drop o'
+rain to let true believer know I gone to Glory!'
+
+"When they lift the body to take 'em to the church, rain, 'Tit! Tit!
+Tit! Tit!' on the house! At the gate, moon shine out' Going to the
+church! Bury to the 'Oaks.'
+
+"Gob say, 'Titty, all you chillun bury at Oaks. Ma to Oaks. How come you
+wanter bury Watsaw?"
+
+"I say, 'When the trumpet sound, I yeddy!' (When the trumpet sounds,
+I'll hear it!)
+
+"I marry right to Collins Creek hill. Big dance out the door! I free! I
+kick up! Ma, old rebs time people!"
+
+  Mom Hagar Brown
+  Age--(She says 'Born first o'
+  Freedom' but got her age from
+  a contemporary and reported 77)
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  EX-SLAVE STORY
+  (Verbatim)
+
+
+"My old man can 'member things and tell you things and he word carry. We
+marry to Turkey Hill Plantation. Hot supper. Cake, wine, and all. Kill
+cow, hog, chicken and all. That time when you marry, so much to eat!
+Finance wedding! Now--
+
+"We 'lamp-oil chillun'; they 'lectric light' chillun now! We call our
+wedding 'lamp-oil wedding'. Hall jam full o' people; out-of-door jam
+full. Stand before the chimbley.
+
+"When that first war come through, we born. I don't know just when I
+smell for come in the world.
+
+"Big storm? Yinnah talk big storm hang people up on tree? (Noah!) Shake?
+I here in house. House gone, 'Rack-a-rack-a-racker!'
+
+"My husband run out--with me and my baby left in bed! Baby just come in
+time of the shake.
+
+"When I first have sense, I 'member I walk on the frost bare-feet.
+Cow-belly shoe.
+
+"My husband mother have baby on the flat going to Marion and he Auntie
+Cinda have a baby on that flat.
+
+"From yout (youth) I been a Brown and marry a Brown; title never change.
+
+"Old timey sing?
+
+  1.
+
+  "Wish I had a hundred dog
+  And half wuz hound!
+  Take it in my fadder field
+  And we run the rabbit down!
+  Chorus: Now he hatch
+  He hatch!
+  He hatch!
+  And I run the rabbit down!
+
+  2.
+
+  "I wish I had a hundred head o' dog
+  And half of them wuz hound
+  I'd take 'em back in my bacco field
+  And run the rabbit down.
+  Chorus: Now he hatch--he hatch!
+  He hatch--he hatch!
+  Now he hatch--he hatch!
+  And I run them rabbit down!"
+
+"That wuz a sing we used to have on the plantation. Then we make up
+sing--we have sing for chillun. Make 'em go sleep. Every one have his
+own sing.
+
+  "Bye-o-baby!
+  Go sleepy!
+  Bye-o-baby!
+  Go sleepy!
+  What a big alligator
+  Coming to catch
+  This one boy!"
+
+  "Diss here the Watson one boy child!
+  Bye-o-baby go sleepy!
+  What a big alligator
+  Coming to catch this one boy!"
+
+Emmie Jordan: "Missus, I too plague with bad heart trouble to give you
+the sing!"
+
+  Song and conversation Given by
+
+  Mom Louisa Brown (Born time of 'Reb people War')
+  Waverly Mills, S. C.
+  Near Parkersville, S. C.
+
+
+
+  Project -1655
+  Jessie A. Butler
+  Charleston, S. C.
+  Approximately 930 words
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  Stories from Ex-slaves
+  Henry Brown
+  Ex-slave Age 79
+
+
+Henry Brown, negro caretaker of the Gibbes House, at the foot of Grove
+street, once a part of Rose Farm, is a splendid example of a type once
+frequently met with in the South. Of a rich brown complexion, aquiline
+of feature, there is none of the "Gullah" about Henry. He is courteous
+and kindly in his manner, and speaks more correctly than the average
+negro.
+
+"My father was Abram Brown, and my mother's name was Lucy Brown," he
+said. "They were slaves of Dr. Arthur Gordon Rose. My grandfather and
+grandmother were grown when they came from Africa, and were man and wife
+in Africa. I was born just about two years before the war so I don't
+remember anything about slavery days, and very little about war times,
+except that we were taken to Deer Pond, about half mile from Columbia.
+Dr. Rose leased the place from Dr. Ray, and took his family there for
+safety. My mother died while he was at Deer Pond, and was buried there,
+but all the rest of my people is buried right here at Rose Farm. My two
+brothers were a lot older than me, and were in the war. After the war my
+brother Tom was on the police force, he was a sergeant, and they called
+him Black Sergeant. My brother Middleton drove the police wagon: they
+used to call it Black Maria.
+
+"My father, Abram Brown, was the driver or head man at Rose plantation.
+Dr. Rose thought a heap of him, and during the war he put some of his
+fine furniture and other things he brought from England in my father's
+house and told him if the Yankees came to say the things belonged to
+him. Soon after that the soldiers came. They asked my father who the
+things belonged to and he said they belonged to him. The soldiers asked
+him who gave them to him, and he said his master gave them to him. The
+Yankees told him that they thought he was lying, and if he didn't tell
+the truth they would kill him, but he wouldn't say anything else so they
+left him alone and went away.
+
+"Work used to start on the plantation at four o'clock in the morning,
+when the people went in the garden. At eight or nine o'clock they went
+into the big fields. Everybody was given a task of work. When you
+finished your task you could quit. If you didn't do your work right you
+got a whipping.
+
+"The babies were taken to the Negro house and the old women and young
+colored girls who were big enough to lift them took care of them. At one
+o'clock the babies were taken to the field to be nursed, then they were
+brought back to the Negro house until the mothers finished their work,
+then they would come for them.
+
+"Dr. Rose gave me to his son, Dr. Arthur Barnwell Rose, for a Christmas
+present. After the war Dr. Rose went back to England. He said he
+couldn't stay in a country with so many free Negroes. Then his son Dr.
+Arthur Barnwell Rose had the plantation. Those was good white people,
+good white people.
+
+"The colored people were given their rations once a week, on Monday,
+they got corn, and a quart of molasses, and three pounds of bacon, and
+sometimes meat and peas. They had all the vegetables they wanted; they
+grew them in the gardens. When the boats first came in from Africa with
+the slaves, a big pot of peas was cooked and the people ate it with
+their hands right from the pot. The slaves on the plantation went to
+meeting two nights a week and on Sunday they went to Church, where they
+had a white preacher Dr. Rose hired to preach to them.
+
+"After the war when we came back to Charleston I went to work as a
+chimney-sweep. I was seven years old then. They paid me ten cents a
+story. If a house had two stories I got twenty cents; if it had three
+stories I got thirty cents. When I got too big to go up the chimneys I
+went back to Rose plantation. My father was still overseer or driver. I
+drove a cart and plowed. Afterwards I worked in the phosphate mines,
+then came back here to take care of the garden and be caretaker. I
+planted all these Cherokee roses you see round here, and I had a big
+lawn of Charleston grass. I aint able to keep it like I used to."
+
+Henry is intensely religious. He says "the people don't notice God now
+because they're free." "Some people say there aint no hell," he
+continued, "but I think there must be some kind of place like that,
+because you got to go some place when you leave this earth, and you got
+to go to the master that you served when you were here. If you serve God
+and obey His commandments then you go to Him, but if you don't pay any
+attention to what he tells you in His Book, just do as you choose and
+serve the devil, then you got to go to him. And it don't make any
+difference if you're poor or rich, it don't matter what the milliner
+(millionaire) man says."
+
+He seemed so proud of his garden, with its broad view across the Ashley
+River, showing his black walnut, pear and persimmon trees, grape vines
+and roses, that the writer said, "Henry, you know a poet has said that
+we are nearer God in the garden than anywhere else on earth." "Well
+ma'am, you see," he replied, with a winning smile, "that's where God put
+us in the first place."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Augustus Ladson
+  Charleston, S. C.
+
+  EX-SLAVE BORN 1857
+  GRAND PARENTS CAME DIRECTLY FROM AFRICA
+
+
+I was nickname' durin' the days of slavery. My name was Henry but they
+call' me Toby. My sister, Josephine, too was nickname' an' call' Jessee.
+Our mistress had a cousin by that name. My oldes' bredder was a Sergeant
+on the Charleston Police Force around 1868. I had two other sister',
+Louise an' Rebecca.
+
+My firs' owner was Arthur Barnwell Rose. Then Colonel A. G. Rhodes
+bought the plantation who sol' it to Capen Frederick W. Wagener. James
+Sottile then got in possession who sol' it to the DeCostas, an' a few
+weeks ago Mrs. Albert Callitin Simms, who I'm tol' is a former member of
+Congress, bought it. Now I'm wonderin' if she is goin' to le' me stay. I
+hope so 'cus I'm ol' now en can't work.
+
+My pa was name' Abraham Brown; he was bo'n on Coals Islan' in Beaufort
+County. Colonel Rhodes bought him for his driver, then he move here. I
+didn't know much 'bout him; he didn't live so long afta slavery 'cus he
+was ol.
+
+Colonel Rhodes had a son an' a daughter. The son went back to England
+afta his death an' the daughter went to Germany with her husban'. They
+ain't never come back so the place was sol' for tax.
+
+Durin' the war we was carry to Deer Pond, twelve miles on dis side of
+Columbia. W'en the war was end' pa brought my sister, Louise, Rebecca,
+who was too small to work, Josephine an' me, home. All my people is
+long-lifted. My grand pa an' grand ma on pa side come right from Africa.
+They was stolen an' brought here. They use to tell us of how white men
+had pretty cloth on boats which they was to exchange for some of their
+o'nament'. W'en they take the o'nament' to the boat they was carry way
+down to the bottom an' was lock' in. They was anchored on or near
+Sullivan's Islan' w'ere they been feed like dogs. A big pot was use' for
+cookin'. In that pot peas was cook' an' lef' to cool. Everybody went to
+the pot with the han's an' all eat frum the pot.
+
+I was bo'n two years before the war an' was seven w'en it end. That was
+in 1857. I never went to school but five months in my life, but could
+learn easy. Very seldom I had to be tol' to do the same thing twice.
+
+The slaves had a plenty o' vegetables all the time. Master planted t'ree
+acres jus' for the slaves which was attended to in the mornin's before
+tas' time. All provision was made as to the distribution on Monday
+evenin's afta tas'.
+
+My master had two place: one on Big Islan' an' on Coals Islan' in
+Beaufort County. He didn't have any overseer. My pa was his driver.
+
+Pa say this place was given to Mr. Rhodes with a thousand acres of lan'
+by England. But it dwindled to thirty-five w'en the other was taken back
+by England.
+
+There wasn't but ten slaves on this plantation. The driver call' the
+slaves at four so they could git their breakfas'. They always work the
+garden firs' an' at seven go in the co'n an' cotton fiel'. Some finish
+their tas' by twelve an' others work' 'til seven but had the tas' to
+finish. No one was whip' 'less he needed it; no one else could whip
+master' slaves. He wouldn't stan' for it. We had it better then than now
+'cause white men lynch an' burn now an' do other things they couldn't do
+then. They shoot you down like dogs now, an' nothin' said or done.
+
+No slave was suppose' to be whip' in Charleston except at the Sugar
+House. There was a jail for whites, but if a slave ran away an' got
+there he could disown his master an' the state wouldn't le' him take
+you.
+
+All collud people has to have a pass w'en they went travelin'; free as
+well as slaves. If one didn't the patrollers, who was hired by rich
+white men would give you a good whippin' an' sen' you back home. My pa
+didn't need any one to write his pass 'cause he could write as well as
+master. How he got his education, I didn't know.
+
+Sat'day was a workin' day but the tas' was much shorter then other days.
+Men didn't have time to frolic 'cause they had to fin' food for the
+fambly; master never give 'nough to las' the whole week. A peck o' co'n,
+t'ree pound o' beacon, quart o' molasses, a quart o' salt, an' a pack o'
+tobacco was given the men. The wife got the same thing but chillun
+accordin' to age. Only one holiday slaves had an' that was Christmas.
+
+Co'nshuckin' parties was conducted by a group of fa'mers who take their
+slaves or sen' them to the neighborin' ones 'til all the co'n was
+shuck'. Each one would furnish food 'nough for all slaves at his party.
+Some use to have nothin' but bake potatas an' some kind of vegetable.
+
+An unmarried young man was call' a half-han'. W'en he want to marry he
+jus' went to master an' say there's a gal he would like to have for
+wife. Master would say yes an' that night more chicken would be fry an'
+everything eatable would be prepare at master' expense. The couple went
+home afta the supper, without any readin' of matrimony, man an' wife.
+
+A man once married his ma en' didn't know it. He was sell from her w'en
+'bout eight years old. When he grow to a young men, slavery then was
+over, he met this woman who he like' an' so they were married. They was
+married a month w'en one night they started to tell of their experiences
+an' how many times they was sol'. The husban' tol' how he was sol' from
+his mother who liked him dearly. He tol' how his ma faint' w'en they
+took him away an' how his master then use to bran' his baby slaves at a
+year ol'. W'en he showed her the bran' she faint' 'cause she then
+realize' that she had married her son.
+
+Slaves didn't have to use their own remedy for sickness for good doctors
+been hired to look at them. There was, as is, though, some weed use for
+fever an' headache as: blacksnake root, furrywork, jimpsin weed, one
+that tie' on the head which bring sweat from you like hail, an' hickory
+leaf. If the hickory is keep on the head too long it will blister it.
+
+W'en the war was fightin' the white men burn the bridge at the foot of
+Spring Street so the Yankees couldn't git over but they buil' pontoos
+while some make the horses swim 'cross. One night while at Deer Pond, I
+hear something like thunder until 'bout eleven the next day. W'en the
+thing I t'ought was thunder stop', master tell us that evenin' we was
+free. I wasn't surprise to know for as little as I was I know the
+Yankees was goin' to free us with the help of God.
+
+I was married twice, an' had two gals an' a boy with firs' wife. I have
+t'ree boys with the second; the younges' is jus' eight.
+
+Lincoln did jus' what God inten' him to do, but I think nothin' 'bout
+Calhoun on 'account of what he say in one of his speech 'bout collud
+people. He said: "keep the niggers down."
+
+To see collud boys goin' 'round now with paper an' pencil in their han's
+don't look real to me. Durin' slavery he would be whip' 'til not a skin
+was lef' on his body.
+
+My pa was a preacher why I become a Christian so early; he preach' on
+the plantation to the slaves. On Sunday the slaves went to the white
+church. He use to tell us of hell an' how hot it is. I was so 'fraid of
+hell 'til I was always tryin' to do the right thing so I couldn't go to
+that terrible place.
+
+I don't care 'bout this worl' an' its vanities 'cause the Great Day is
+comin' w'en I shall lay down an' my stammerin' tongue goin' to lie
+silent in my head. I want a house not made with han's but eternal in the
+Heavens. That Man up there, is all I need; I'm goin' to still trus' Him.
+Before the comin' of Chris' men was kill' for His name sake; today they
+curse Him. It's nearly time for the world to come to en' for He said
+"bout two thousand years I shall come again" an' that time is fas'
+approachin'.
+
+  Source
+
+  Interview with Henry Brown, 637 Grove Street. He is much concerned with
+  the Scottsboro Case and discusses the invasion of Italy into defenseless
+  Ethiopia intelligently.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon,
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  JOHN C. BROWN AND ADELINE BROWN
+  EX-SLAVES 86 YEARS AND 96 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+John C. Brown and his wife, Adeline, who is eleven years older than
+himself, live in a ramshackle four-room frame house in the midst of a
+cotton field, six miles west of Woodward, S. C. John assisted in laying
+the foundation and building the house forty-four years ago. A single
+china-berry tree, gnarled but stately, adds to, rather than detracts
+from, the loneliness of the dilapidated house. The premises and
+thereabout are owned by the Federal Land Bank. The occupants pay no
+rent. Neither of them are able to work. They have been fed by charity
+and the W. P. A. for the past eighteen months.
+
+(John talking)
+
+"Where and when I born? Well, dat'll take some 'hear say', Mister. I
+never knowed my mammy. They say she was a white lady dat visited my old
+marster and mistress. Dat I was found in a basket, dressed in nice baby
+clothes, on de railroad track at Dawkins, S. C. De engineer stop de
+train, got out, and found me sumpin' like de princess found Moses, but
+not in de bulrushes. Him turn me over to de conductor. De conductor
+carry me to de station at Dawkins, where Marse Tom Dawkins come to meet
+de train dat mornin' and claim me as found on his land. Him say him had
+de best right to me. De conductor didn't 'ject to dat. Marse Tom carry
+me home and give me to Miss Betsy. Dat was his wife and my mistress. Her
+always say dat Sheton Brown was my father. He was one of de slaves on de
+place; de carriage driver. After freedom he tell me he was my real
+pappy. Him took de name of Brown and dat's what I go by.
+
+"My father was a ginger-bread colored man, not a full-blooded nigger.
+Dat's how I is altogether yallow. See dat lady over dere in dat chair?
+Dat's my wife. Her brighter skinned than I is. How come dat? Her daddy
+was a full-blooded Irishman. He come over here from Ireland and was
+overseer for Marse Bob Clowney. He took a fancy for Adeline's mammy, a
+bright 'latto gal slave on de place. White women in them days looked
+down on overseers as poor white trash. Him couldn't git a white wife but
+made de best of it by puttin' in his spare time a honeyin' 'round
+Adeline's mammy. Marse Bob stuck to him, and never 'jected to it.
+
+"When de war come on, Marse Richard, de overseer, shoulder his gun as a
+soldier and, as him was educated more than most of de white folks, him
+rise to be captain in de Confederate Army. It's a pity him got kilt in
+dat war.
+
+"My marster, Tom Dawkins, have a fine mansion. He owned all de land
+'round Dawkins and had 'bout 200 slaves, dat lived in good houses and
+was we well fed. My pappy was de man dat run de mill and grind de wheat
+and corn into flour and meal. Him never work in de field. He was 'bove
+dat. Him 'tend to de ginnin' of de cotton and drive de carriage.
+
+"De Yankees come and burn de mansion, de gin-house and de mill. They
+take all de sheep, mules, cows, hogs and even de chickens. Set de slaves
+free and us niggers have a hard time ever since.
+
+"My black stepmammy was so mean to me dat I run away. I didn't know
+where to go but landed up, one night, at Adeline's mammy's and
+steppappy's house, on Marse Bob Clowney's place. They had been slaves of
+Marse Bob and was livin' and workin' for him. I knock on de door. Mammy
+Charity, dat's Adeline's mammy, say: 'Who dat?' I say: 'Me'. Her say:
+'Who is me?' I say: 'John'. Her say: 'John who?' I say: 'Just John'. Her
+say: 'Adeline, open de door, dat's just some poor boy dat's cold and
+hungry. Charity is my fust name. Your pappy ain't come yet but I'll let
+dat boy in 'til he come and see what he can do 'bout it.'
+
+"When Adeline open dat door, I look her in de eyes. Her eyes melt
+towards me wid a look I never see befo' nor since. Mind you, I was just
+a boy fourteen, I 'spects, and her a woman twenty-five then. Her say:
+'You darlin' little fellow; come right in to de fire.' Oh, my! She took
+on over me! Us wait 'til her pappy come in. Then him say: 'What us gonna
+do wid him?' Adeline say: 'Us gonna keep him.' Pappy say: 'Where he
+gonna sleep?' Adeline look funny. Mammy say: 'Us'll fix him a pallet by
+de fire.' Adeline clap her hands and say: 'You don't mind dat, does you
+boy?' I say: 'No ma'am, I is slept dat way many a time.'
+
+"Well, I work for Marse Bob Clowney and stayed wid Adeline's folks two
+years. I sure made myself useful in dat family. Never 'spicioned what
+Adeline had in her head, 'til one day I climbed up a hickory nut tree,
+flail de nuts down, come down and was helpin' to pick them up when she
+bump her head 'ginst mine and say: 'Oh, Lordy!' Then I pat and rub her
+head and it come over me what was in dat head! Us went to de house and
+her told de folks dat us gwine to marry.
+
+"Her led me to de altar dat nex' Sunday. Gived her name to de preacher
+as Adeline Cabean. I give de name of John Clowney Brown. Marse Bob was
+dere and laugh when de preacher call my name, 'John Clowney Brown'.
+
+"Our chillun come pretty fast. I was workin' for $45.00 a year, wid
+rations. Us had three pounds of bacon, a peck of meal, two cups of
+flour, one quart of 'lasses, and one cup of salt, a week.
+
+"Us never left Marse Robert as long as him lived. When us have four
+chillun, him increase de amount of flour to four cups and de 'lasses to
+two quarts. Then him built dis house for de old folks and Adeline and de
+chillun to live in. I help to build it forty-four years ago. Our chillun
+was Clarice, Jim, John, Charity, Tom, Richard, and Adeline.
+
+"I followed Marse Robert Clowney in politics, wore a red shirt, and
+voted for him to go to de Legislature. Him was 'lected dat time but
+never cared for it no more.
+
+"Adeline b'long to de church. Always after me to jine but I can't
+believe dere is anything to it, though I believes in de law and de Ten
+Commandments. Preacher calls me a infidel. Can't help it. They is maybe
+got me figured out wrong. I believes in a Great Spirit but, in my time,
+I is seen so many good dogs and hosses and so many mean niggers and
+white folks, dat I 'clare, I is confused on de subject. Then I can't
+believe in a hell and everlastin' brimstone. I just think dat people is
+lak grains of corn: dere is some good grains and some rotten grains. De
+good grains is res'rected, de rotten grains never sprout again. Good
+people come up again and flourish in de green fields of Eden. Bad people
+no come up. Deir bodies and bones just make phosphate guano, 'round de
+roots of de ever bloomin' tree of life. They lie so much in dis world,
+maybe de Lord will just make 'lie' soap out of them. What you think else
+they would be fit for?"
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Martha S. Pinckney
+  Charleston, S. C.
+
+  FOLKLORE
+  Approx. 660 words
+
+  INTERVIEW WITH EX-SLAVE
+  Age 88-90
+
+
+Mary Frances Brown is a typical product of the old school of trained
+house servants, an unusual delicate type, somewhat of the Indian cast,
+to which race she is related. She is always clean and neat, a refined
+old soul, as individuals of that class often are. Her memory, sight and
+hearing are good for her advanced age.
+
+"Our home Marlboro. Mas Luke Turnage was my
+master--Marlboro-Factory-Plantation name 'Beauty Spot'. My missis was
+right particular about neat and clean. She raise me for a house girl. My
+missis was good to me, teach me ebbery ting, and take the Bible and
+learn me Christianified manners, charity, and behaviour and good
+respect, and it with me still.
+
+"We didn't have any hard times, our owners were good to us--no over
+share (overseer) and no whippin'--he couldn't stan' that. I live there
+'til two year after freedom; how I come to leave, my mother sister been
+sick, and she ask mother to send one of us, an she send me. My mother
+been Miss Nancy cook. Miss Nancy was Mas Luke's mother--it take me two
+years learning to eat the grub they cook down here in Charleston. I had
+to learn to eat these little piece of meat--we had a dish full of meat;
+the big smoke house was lined from the top down. (Describing how the
+meat hung) I nebber accustom to dese little piece of meat, so--what dey
+got here. Missis, if you know smoke house, didn't you find it hard? My
+master had 'til he didn't know what to do with. My white people were
+Gentile." (Her tone implied that she considered them the acme of gentle
+folks). "I don't know what the other people were name that didn't have
+as much as we had--but I know my people were Gentile!"
+
+Just here her daughter and son appeared, very unlike their mother in
+type. The daughter is quite as old looking as her mother; the son, a
+rough stevedore. When the writer suggested that the son must be a
+comfort, she looked down sadly and said in a low tone, as if
+soliloquizing, "He way is he way." Going back to her former thought, she
+said, "All our people were good. Mas Luke was the worse one." (This she
+said with an indulgent smile) "Cause he was all the time at the race
+ground or the fair ground.
+
+"Religion rules Heaven and Earth, an there is no religion
+now--harricanes an washin-aways is all about. Ebberything is change. Dis
+new name what they call grip is pleurisy-cold--putrid sore-throat is
+called somethin'--yes, diptheria. Cuttin (surgery) come out in 1911!
+They kill an they cure, an they save an they loss.
+
+"My Gran'ma trained with Indians--she bin a Indian, an Daniel C. McCall
+bought her. She nebber loss a baby." (the first Indian relationship that
+the writer can prove). "You know Dr. Jennings? Ebberybody mus' know him.
+After he examine de chile an de mother, an 'ee alright, he hold de nurse
+responsible for any affection (infection) that took place.
+
+"Oh! I know de spiritual--but Missis, my voice too weak to sing--dey
+aint in books; if I hear de name I can sing--'The Promise Land', Oh, how
+Mas Joel Easterling (born 1796) use to love to sing dat!"
+
+  "I am bound for de Promise Land!
+  Oh! who will arise an go with me?
+  I am bound for the Promise Land!
+  I've got a mother in the Promise Land,
+  My mother calls me an I mus go,
+  To meet her in the Promise Land!"
+
+  Source: Mary Frances Brown, Age 88-90, East Bay Street, Charleston,
+          S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Cassels R. Tiedeman
+  Charleston, S. C.
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  INTERVIEW WITH AN EX-SLAVE
+
+
+Mary Frances Brown, about ninety years of age, born in slavery, on the
+plantation of Luke Turnage, in Marlboro County, was raised as a
+house-servant and shows today evidence of most careful training. Her
+bearing is rather a gentle refined type, seemingly untouched by the
+squalor in which she lives. She willingly gives freely of her small
+store of strength to those around her.
+
+Her happiest days seem to have been those of her early youth, for when
+she was questioned about the present times, and even about those closely
+associated with her today she bowed her head and said: "Deir way is deir
+way. O! let me tell you now, de world is in a haad (hard) time, wust
+(worse) den it eber (ever) been, but religion! It eberywhere in Hebben
+an' in de ert (earth) too, if you want em. De trouble is you ain't want
+em; 'e right dere jes de same but de time done pass when dis generation
+hold wid anyt'ing but de debbul. When I a gal, grown up, I had a tight
+missus dat raise me, you hab to keep clean round her, she good an' kind
+an' I lub her yet, but don't you forgit to mind what she say.
+
+"My massa, he 'low no whipping on de plantation, he talk heap an' he
+scold plenty, but den he hab to. Dere was haad time for two year after
+de war was ober (over) but after dat it better den it is now. Dis is de
+wust time eber. I ain't eber git use to de wittle (victual) you hab down
+here. I lib ober Mount Pleasant twenty five year after I come from de
+old place up Marlboro, den I come to Charleston.
+
+"Dey were happy time back dere. My massa, he run round ebery way, spend
+plenty money on horse race, he gib good time to eberybody an' tell us we
+mus' tek good care of de missus when he ain't dere. An de wittles we hab
+I ain't nebber see de lak no time. Dem were de times to lib. I old now
+but I ain't forgit what my missus larn (learn) me. It right here in me."
+
+Mary Frances was asked if she could sing spirituals. The following is
+one that she sang in a very high pitched wavering voice and then she
+complained of shortness of breath on account of her heart.
+
+  "We got a home ober dere,
+  Come an' let us go,
+  Come an' let us go,
+  Where pleasure neber (never) die.
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  "Oh! let us go where pleasure neber die,
+  Neber die,
+  Come and let us go,
+  Where pleasure neber die, neber die.
+
+  "Mother is gone ober dere,
+  Mother is gone ober dere,
+  Where pleasure neber die,
+  Where pleasure neber die.
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  "Father is gone ober dere,
+  Father is gone ober dere,
+  Where pleasure neber die,
+  Where pleasure neber die.
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  "Sister is gone ober dere,
+  Sister is gone ober dere,
+  Where pleasure neber die,
+  Where pleasure neber die.
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  "Brudder is gone ober dere,
+  Brudder is gone ober dere,
+  Where pleasure neber die,
+  Where pleasure neber die."
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  Source: Interview with Mary Frances Brown, 83 East Bay St.,
+          Charleston, S. C. (age--90)
+
+
+
+
+  Code No. ----
+  Project. 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, July 8, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced From ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  MOM SARA BROWN
+  Ex-Slave, 85 years
+
+
+"Oh, my God, de doctors have me in slavery time. Been here de startin of
+de first war. I belong to de Cusaac dat live 15 miles low Florence on de
+road what take you on to Georgetown. I recollects de Yankees come dere
+in de month of June en free de colored peoples."
+
+"My white folks give me to de doctors in dem days to try en learn me for
+a nurse. Don' know exactly how old I was in dat day en time, but I can
+tell you what I done. My Lord, child, can' tell dat. Couldn' never tell
+how many baby I bring in dis world, dey come so fast. I betcha I got
+more den dat big square down dere to de courthouse full of em. I nurse
+13 head of chillun in one family right here in dis town. You see dat all
+I ever did have to do. Was learnt to do dat. De doctor tell me, say,
+when you call to a 'oman, don' you never hesitate to go en help her en
+you save dat baby en dat mother both. Dat what I is always try to do.
+Heap of de time just go en let em pay me by de chance. Oh, my Lord, a
+'oman birth one of dem babies here bout two weeks ago wid one of dem
+veil over it face. De Lord know what make dat, I don', but dem kind of
+baby sho wiser den de other kind of baby. Dat thing look just like a
+thin skin dat stretch over da baby face en come down low it's chin. Have
+to take en pull it back over it's forehead en den de baby can see en
+holler all it ever want to. My blessed, honey, wish I had many a dollar
+as I see veil over baby face. Sho know all bout dem kind of things."
+
+"Oh, honey, I tell you de people bless dis day en time. Don' know nothin
+bout how to be thankful enough for what dey have dese days. I tell de
+truth de peoples sho had to scratch bout en make what dey had in slavery
+time. Baby, dey plant patches of okra en parch dat en make what coffee
+dey have. Den dey couldn' get no shoes like dey hab dese days neither.
+Just make em out of de hide of dey own cows dat dey butcher right dere
+on de plantation. Coase de peoples had plenty sometin to eat like meat
+en turkey en chicken en thing like dat. Oh, my God, couldn' see de top
+of de smoke house for all de heap of meat dey have in dem times. En milk
+en butter, honey, dey didn' never be widout plenty of dat. De peoples
+bout here dese days axes ten cents a quart for sweet milk en five cents
+a quart for old sour clabber. What you think bout dat? Dat how-come
+people have to hunt jobs so mucha dese days. Have to do some sorta work
+cause you know dey got to put sometin in dey mouth somewhe' or another.
+Oh, my child, slavery days was troublesome times. Sugar en salt never
+run free wid de peoples den neither. I know de day been here when salt
+was so scarce dat dey had to go to de seashore en get what salt dey had.
+I gwine to tell you all bout dat. Dey hitch up two horses to a wagon en
+den dey make another horse go in front of de wagon to rest de other
+horses long de way. Dey mostly go bout on a Monday en stay three days.
+Boil dat salty water down dere en fetch two en three of dem barrel of
+salt back wid em dey get dat way. It was just like dis, it take heap of
+salt when dey had dem big hog-killin days. En de sugar, dey make dat
+too. Made de sugar in lil blocks dat dey freeze just like dey freeze ice
+dis day en time. I know dey do dat--know it. Dey make molasses en some
+of it would be lighter den de other en dey freeze dat en make de
+prettiest lil squares just like de ice you see dese days. Dey have
+sometin to freeze it in. Dis here old black mammy know heap of things
+you ain' never hear bout. Oh, baby, de peoples sho bless dese days."
+
+"Oh, my god, de colored peoples worship to de white folks church in
+slavery time. You know dat Hopewell Church over de river dere, dat a
+slavery church. Dat whe' I go to church den wid my white folks. I had a
+lil chair wid a cowhide bottom dat I always take everywhe' I go wid me.
+If I went to church, dat chair go in de carriage wid me en den I take it
+in de church en set right by de side of my Miss. Dat how it was in
+slavery time. Oh, my Lord, dere a big slavery people graveyard dere to
+dat Hopewell Church."
+
+"Honey, you mind if I smoke my pipe a lil whilst I settin here talkin
+wid you. I worry so much wid dis high blood dese days en a ringin in my
+ears dat my pipe de only thing dat does seem to satisfy my soul. I tell
+you dat high blood a bad thing. It get such a hold on me awhile back dat
+I couldn' do nothin, couldn' pick cotton, couldn' say my--me, couldn'
+even say, God a mighty--thing pretty. Oh, I don' know. I start smokin
+pipe long time ago when I first start nursin babies. Had to do sometin
+like dat den."
+
+"No, Lord, I never believe nothin bout dat but what God put here. I hear
+some people say dey was conjure, but I don' pay no attention to dey
+talk. Dey say somebody poison em for sometin dey do, but dere ain'
+nobody do dat. God gwine to put you down when he get ready. Ain' nobody
+else do dat."
+
+"Oh, my Lord, I been here a time. I sho been here a time en I thank de
+Lord I here dis day en time. I can thread my needle good as ever I could
+en I ain' have no speck neither. Sew night en day. De chillun have dey
+lamp dere studyin en I hab my lamp dere sewin. My old Miss learnt me to
+sew when I stay right in de house wid her all de time. I stay bout white
+folks all my life en dat how-come I so satisfy when I wid em."
+
+  Source: Mom Sara Brown, age 85, ex-slave, Marion, S. C.
+                 Personal interview, June 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No. ----
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, September 10, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  MOM SARA BROWN
+  Ex-Slave, 85 Years
+
+
+"I stay in house over dere cross Catfish Swamp on Miss Addie McIntyre
+place. Lives wid dis grand-daughter dat been sick in bed for four weeks,
+but she mendin some now. She been mighty low, child. It start right in
+here (chest) en run down twixt her shoulder. She had a tear up cold too,
+but Dr. Dibble treat her en de cough better now. She got three chillun
+dere dat come just like steps. One bout like dat en another like dat en
+de other bout like dis."
+
+"De house we stay in a two room house wid one of dese end chimney. All
+sleep in de same room en cook en eat in de other room. My bed on one
+side en Sue bed on de other side. Put chillun on quilts down on de floor
+in de other end of de room. Baby, whe' dem curtains you say you gwine
+give me? I gwine hang dese up in Sue room. Dey help me fix up de room
+nice en decent like."
+
+"It all on me to feed en clothe both dem chillun en de baby too. It just
+too much on me old as I is. Can' do nothin worth to speak bout hardly
+dese days. Can' hold my head down cause dis high blood worries me so
+much. It get too hot, can' iron. If ain' too hot, I makes out to press
+my things somehow en sweep my yard bout. Sometimes I helps little bit
+wid doctor case, but not often. Can wash de baby en de mother, but can'
+do no stayin up at night. No, baby, can' do no settin up at night."
+
+"I tries to catch all what little I can to help along cause dat how I
+was raise up. Government truck brings me little somethin once a month
+pack up in packages like dry milk en oatmeal en potatoes. Give dat to
+all dem dat can' work en ain' got nobody to help dem. Dat dry milk a
+good thing to mix up de bread wid en den it a help to fix little milk en
+bread for dem two little ones. De potatoes, I stews dem for de chillun
+too. Dey mighty fond of dem. Now de oatmeal, de chillun don' eat dat so
+I fixes it for Sue en every now en den I takes a little bit wid my
+breakfast."
+
+"I don' know much what to tell you bout Abraham Lincoln. I think he was
+a mighty great man, a mighty great man, what I hear of him."
+
+"I remembers de Yankees come dere to my white folks plantation one day
+en, child, dere was a time on dat place. All dem niggers was just a
+kickin up dey heels en shoutin. I was standin dere on de piazza lookin
+at dem en I say, 'I don' see why dey want to carry on like dat for. I
+been free all de time.' When dey get through de Yankees tell dem dey was
+free as dey Massa was en give dem so many bushels of corn en so much
+meat for dey own. Some take dey pile en go on off en some choose to stay
+on dere wid dey Missus. She was good to all her colored people en dey
+stay on dere for part de crop. Give dem so much of de crop accordin to
+de chillun dey had to feed. I know dis much, dey all know dey gwine get
+12 bushels of corn a year, if dey ain' get no more. Dat a bushel every
+month. Yes, dat how it was."
+
+"O Lord, baby, I don' know a thing bout none of dat thing call conjurin.
+Don' know nothin bout it. Dat de devil work en I ain' bother wid it. Dey
+say some people can kill you, but dey ain' bother me. Some put dey trust
+in it, but not me. I put my trust in de Lord cause I know it just a talk
+de people have. No, Lord, I can' remember dat neither. I hear dem say
+Raw Head en Bloody Bones would catch you if you be bad, but how it
+started, I don' know. I know I don' know nothin bout how dey look en I
+don' want to see dem neither. No, child, people say dey sho to be, but I
+ain' see none. How dey look, I don' know."
+
+"I don' know what to think bout de times dese days. De times worse den
+dey used to be, child. You know dey worse. Dis here a fast time de
+people livin on cause everybody know de people die out heap faster den
+dey used to. Don' care how dey kill you up. No, child, dey sho worser.
+My people en yunnah people. Don' it seem so to you dat dey worser?"
+
+"Baby, I got to get up from here en leave now cause I huntin medicine
+dis mornin. I ain' got time to tell you nothin else dis time, but I
+gwine get my mind fix up on it en den your old black mammy comin back
+fore long en stay all day wid you en your mamma. What time dat clock say
+it now, honey? I got to hurry en catch de doctor fore he get away from
+his office en be so scatter bout till nobody can' tell whe' he is. Dr.
+Dibble a good doctor, a mighty good doctor. When he come, don' never
+come in no hurry. Takes pains wid you. Dat been my doctor. I is just
+devoted to him."
+
+  Source: Mom Sara Brown, ex-slave, age 85, Marion, S. C.
+                 Second Report.
+
+                 Personal interview, September, 1937 by Annie Ruth
+                 Davis, Marion, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  (Some recollections of 'The Reb Time day' given by
+  Aunt Margaret Bryant)
+
+
+Visitor: "How are you Aunt Margaret?"
+
+Margaret: "Missus, I ain't wuth! I ain't wuth!"
+
+Visitor: "Aunt Margaret you've been here a long time. How old are you?"
+
+Margaret: "I can't tell you my age no way in the world! When freedom
+come, I been here. Not big nuff (enough) for work for the Reb, but I
+been here Reb time. Been big nuff (enough) to know when Yankee gun-boat
+come to Watsaw (Wachesaw). Whole gang o' Yankee come to the house and
+didn't do a thing but ketch (catch) a gang o' fowl and gone on. And tell
+the people (meaning the slaves) to take the house and go in and get what
+they want. The obersheer (overseer) hear the Doctor whistle to the gate
+and wabe (wave) him back. And then the Doctor know the Yankee been there
+and he gone on to the creek house and get all he gold and ting (thing)
+out the house and gone--Marion till Freedom then he come back.
+
+"Yankee come in that night. Moon shine lak a day. Stay in the Doctor
+house that night. Morning come, take a gang o' fowl and gone on!"
+
+Visitor: "Aunt Margaret, what was your name before you were married?"
+
+Margaret: "Margaret One. Brother and sister? I ain't one when I come
+here. Ain't meet aunty, uncle--none. Me and my brudder Michael wuz twin.
+I ain't meet none when I come here. All been sell. Me and my Ma One
+here. Mary One. Husband title, husband nichel (initial) been 'One.'
+Number one carpenter--give 'em that name Michael One--and he gibe 'em
+that name. Born Sandy Island. Been to landing to Watsaw when gun-boat
+come. Just a sneak long! Boat white. Hab (have) a red chimbley
+(chimney.) Didn't try to carry we off. Tell 'em 'Go and help youself.'
+Been after the buckra. (The Yankee trying to catch the buckra.)
+
+"I see my Ma dye with some bush they call 'indigo,' and black walnut
+bark. Big old pen for the sheep-folds.
+
+"My Pa sister, Ritta One had that job. Nuss (nurse) the chillun. Chillun
+house. One woman nuss (nurse) all the chillun while they ma in the
+field--rice field. All size chillun. Git the gipsy (gypsum) weed. Beat
+'em up for worm. Give 'em when the moon change. Take a bucket and follow
+dem. And tell the Doctor how much a worm that one make and that one and
+count dem (them). When the moon change, do that.
+
+"I have one born with caul. Loss he caul. Rat carry 'em. Ain't here; he
+see nothin. (The custom seems to be, to preserve the caul.)
+
+"Child born feet fore-most see 'um too." (See spirit) "Talk chillun? Put
+duh switch. Put you 'Bull pen.' Hab 'um (have them) a place can't see
+you hand before you. Can't turn round good in there. Left you in there
+till morning. Give you fifty lash and send you to work. You ain't done
+that task, man and woman lick!
+
+"Couldn't manage my ma. Obersheer (overseer) want to lick ma, Mary One
+say, 'Going drownded meself! I done my work! Fore I take a lick, rather
+drownded meself.'" Obersheer gone tell the Doctor. Tie her long rope.
+Right to Sandy Island. Man hold the rope. Gone on. Jump in river. So
+Doctor say, 'You too good labor for drown. Take dem (them) to Watsaw.'
+Me and she and man what paddle the boat. Bring her to weave. Two womans
+fuh card; two spin. Ma wop 'em off. Sail duh sheckel (shuttle) through
+there.
+
+"Po-buckra come there and buy cloth from Ma. Buy three and four yard. Ma
+sell that, have to weave day and night to make up that cloth to please
+obersheer. Come big day time. 'Little chillun, whey (where) Mama?' Tell
+'em Ma to the weaving house. Don't have money fuh pay. Bring hog and
+such like as that to pay.
+
+"You know Marse Allard age? Me and Marse Allard suck together. Me and
+Marse Allard and my brudder Michael. My ma fadder mix wid (with) the
+Injun. Son Larry Aikens. Stay Charston (Charlestown). Just as clean!
+(Meaning Larry, her Uncle, very bright skin. Mixed with Indian.) See 'em
+the one time. Come from Charston bring Doctor two horse."
+
+  Given by Aunt Margaret Bryant
+  Age--(Born before Freedom)
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  SAVILLA BURRELL, EX-SLAVE, 83 YEARS
+
+
+"Our preacher, Beaty, told me that you wanted to see me today. I walked
+three miles dis mornin' before the sun gits hot to dis house. Dis house
+is my grand daughter's house. Willie Caldwell, her husband, work down to
+de cotton mill. Him make good money and take good care of her, bless the
+Lord, I say."
+
+"My Marster in slavery time was Captain Tom Still. He had big plantation
+down dere on Jackson Crick. My Mistress name was Mary Ann, though she
+wasn't his fust wife--jest a second wife, and a widow when she
+captivated him. You know widows is like dat anyhow, 'cause day done had
+'sperience wid mens and wraps dem 'round their little finger and git dem
+under their thumb 'fore the mens knows what gwine on. Young gals have a
+poor chance against a young widow like Miss Mary Ann was. Her had her
+troubles with Marse Tom after her git him, I tell you, but maybe best
+not to tell dat right now anyways."
+
+"Marse Tom had four chillun by his fust wife, dey was John, Sam,
+Henretta and I can't 'member de name of the other one; least right now.
+Dey teached me to call chillun three years old, young Marse and say
+Missie. Dey whip you if dey ever hear you say old Marse or old Missie.
+Dat riled dem."
+
+"My pappy name Sam. My mother name Mary. My pappy did not live on the
+same place as mother. He was a slave of de Hamiltons, and he got a pass
+sometimes to come and be with her; not often. Grandmammy name Ester and
+she belonged to our Marse Tom Still, too."
+
+"Us lived in a log cabin wid a stick chimney. One time de sticks got
+afire and burnt a big hole in de back of de chimney in cold winter time
+wid the wind blowing, and dat house was filled wid fire-sparks, ashes,
+and smoke for weeks 'fore dey tore dat chimney down and built another
+jest like the old one. De bed was nailed to de side of de walls. How
+many rooms? Jest one room."
+
+"Never seen any money. How many slaves? So many you couldn't count dem.
+Dere was plenty to eat sich as it was, but in the summer time before us
+git dere to eat de flies would be all over de food and some was swimmin'
+in de gravy and milk pots. Marse laugh 'bout dat, and say, it made us
+fat."
+
+"Dey sell one of mother's chillun once, and when she take on and cry
+'bout it, Marse say, 'stop dat sniffin' dere if you don't want to git a
+whippin'.' She grieve and cry at night 'bout it. Clothes? Yes Sir, us
+half naked all de time. Grown boys went 'round bare footed and in dey
+shirt tail all de summer."
+
+"Marse was a rich man. 'Fore Christmus dey would kill thirty hogs and
+after Christmus, thirty more hogs. He had a big gin house and sheep,
+goats, cows, mules, hosses, turkeys, geese, and a stallion; I members
+his name, Stockin'-Foot. Us little niggers was skeered to death of dat
+stallion. Mothers used to say to chillun to quiet dem, 'Better hush,
+Stockin'-Foot will git you and tramp you down.' Any child would git
+quiet at dat."
+
+"Old Marse was de daddy of some mulatto chillun. De 'lations wid de
+mothers of dese chillun is what give so much grief to Mistress. De
+neighbors would talk 'bout it and he would sell all dem chillun away
+from dey mothers to a trader. My Mistress would cry 'bout dat.
+
+"Our doctor was old Marse son-in-law, Dr. Martin. I seen him cup a man
+once. He was a good doctor. He give slaves castor oil, bleed dem some
+times and make dem take pills."
+
+"Us looked for the Yankees on dat place like us look now for de Savior
+and de host of angels at de second comin'. Dey come one day in February.
+Dey took everything carryable off de plantation and burnt de big house,
+stables, barns, gin house and dey left the slave houses."
+
+"After de war I marry Osborne Burrell and live on de Tom Jordan place.
+I'se de mother of twelve chillun. Jest three livin' now. I lives wid the
+Mills family three miles 'bove town. My son Willie got killed at de
+DuPont Powder Plant at Hopewell, Virginia, during de World War. Dis
+house you settin' in belongs to Charlie Caldwell. He marry my grand
+daughter, Willie B. She is twenty-three years old."
+
+"Young Marse Sam Still got killed in de Civil War. Old Marse live on. I
+went to see him in his last days and I set by him and kept de flies off
+while dere. I see the lines of sorrow had plowed on dat old face and I
+'membered he'd been a captain on hoss back in dat war. It come into my
+'membrance de song of Moses; 'de Lord had triumphed glorily and de hoss
+and his rider have been throwed into de sea'."
+
+"You been good to listen. Dis is the fust time I can git to speak my
+mind like dis mornin'. All de' people seem runnin' here and yonder,
+after dis and after dat. Dere is a nudder old slave, I'se gwine to bring
+him down here Saturday and talk to you again."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  Sept. 15, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I works on de shares and makes a fair living on a rented farm; don't
+own no land. I was born in Newberry County, near de old Longshore store,
+about 12 miles northwest of Newberry Courthouse on de Henry Burton
+place. My parents belonged to Henry Burton in slavery time. He was our
+marster. I married Betty Burton, a nigger girl whose parents belonged to
+Marse Henry Burton, too.
+
+"We had a good marster and mistress. Dey give us a good place to sleep
+and lots to eat. He had a big four-acre garden where he raised lots of
+vegetables fer his slaves. He had plenty meat, molasses and bread. We
+ground our corn and wheat and made our own feed.
+
+"Marster wouldn't let anybody bother his slaves. He wouldn't 'low his
+overseers or de padrollers to whip 'em. He never whipped one.
+
+"We had no school and no church; but was made to go to de white folks
+church and set in de gallery. When Freedom come, de niggers begin to git
+dere own church, and built small brush huts called 'brush harbors'.
+
+"We didn't do work on Saturday afternoons, but went hunting and fishing
+den, while de women folks cleaned up around de place fer Sunday. De
+marster liked to hunt, and he hunted foxes which was plenty around dere
+den. Now dey is all gone.
+
+"We danced and had gigs. Some played de fiddle and some made whistles
+from canes, having different lengths for different notes, and blowed 'em
+like mouth organs."
+
+  Source: C. B. Burton (79), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (9/10/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+
+  Folklore
+
+  GEORGE ANN BUTLER
+  Ex-Slave 75 Years
+
+
+West of the paved highway at Garnett one may reach, after several miles,
+the old Augusta Road that follows along the Savannah River from Augusta
+to a landing point a little south of Garnett. Miles from the busy
+highway, it passes, in quiet majesty, between fields and woods, made
+rich by the river's overflow and heavy dews. Nature has done her best in
+producing beautiful evergreen trees of immense size and much luxuriant
+shrubbery of many kinds. Live oaks, magnolias, yellow slash pines,
+hollies, and many evergreen shrubs keep the woods even in winter, a
+fascinating wilderness to hunters and nature lovers. On this road George
+Ann Butler lives, and has lived for the seventy-five years of her life.
+
+"I was born an' raised on de Greenwood place. It belonged to ole man Joe
+Bostick. He owned all dese places 'long dese here road. He own de
+Bostick place back yonder; den he own de Pipe Creek place next dat; den
+Oaklawn; den joinin' dat was Greenwood. De Colcock's Elmwood was next.
+My Husband was birth right here on de Pipe Creek, an' been here ever
+since. He kin tell you more'n I kin. I was George Anne Curry before I
+marry.
+
+"I can't remember so much 'bout slavery time. I was crawlin' over de
+floor when slavery time--dey tell me. But atter de war, I 'members.
+Couldn't find no corn seed! Couldn't find no cotton seed! Couldn't find
+no salt! You knows it was hard times when dere wasn't no salt to season
+de vegetables. Had to go down to de salt water an' get de water an'
+boil it for salt. Dat been a long way from here. Must be fifty or sixty
+mile! An' dey couldn't go so fast in dem days. Sufferin' been in de
+neighborhood atter de war pass!
+
+"Cotton was de thing 'way back yonder. An' right 'long dis road dey'd
+haul it. Haul it to Cohen's Bluff! Haul it to Matthews Bluff! Haul it to
+Parichucla! Don't haul it dis way no more! Send de cotton to de
+railroad! But in dem days it was de ships dat carried it to Savannah.
+Cotton seem to be play out now--dey plant so much.
+
+"I hear 'em tell 'bout de war, an' havin' to drill an' step when dey say
+step, an' throw up dey hands, when dey say throw up de hand. Everything
+had to be done jes' so! De war was sure a terrible thing."
+
+  Source: George Anne Butler, R. F. D. Garnett, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+
+  ISAIAH [~HW: Solbert (?)~] BUTLER, EX-SLAVE 79 YEARS
+  [~HW: See Ms. #~]
+
+
+"Yes, dis is Isaiah Butler, piece of him. Ain't much left of him now.
+Yes, I knows all 'bout dis heah country from way back. I was born and
+raised right on dis same place here; lived here all my life 'sides from
+travellin' round a little space. Dere was a rice field not far from dis
+house here, where I plowed up more posts that had been used as
+landmarks! Dis place was de Bostick place, and it jined to de Thomson
+place, and de Thomson place to Edmund Martin's place dat was turned over
+to Joe Lawton, his son-in-law. Bill Daniel had charge of de rice field I
+was telling you 'bout. He was overseer, on de Daniel Blake place. Den
+dere was de Maner place, de Trowell, de Kelly, and de Wallace places.
+Back in dem times dey cultivated rice. Had mules to cultivate it! But
+cotton and corn was what dey planted most of all; 4,000 acres I think
+dey tell me was on dis place. I know it supposed to be more than ten
+miles square. Nobody know de landmarks 'cept me. When de Bostick boys
+came back from out west last year, dey had to come to me to find out
+where dere place was. Dey didn't know nuttin' 'bout it. Dey used to use
+twenty plow, and de hoe hands was over a hundred, I know.
+
+"I 'member when de Yankees come through. I was no more'n a lad, nine or
+ten years old. Bostick had a big gin-house, barn, stables, and such
+like. And when de soldiers come a goat was up on de platform in front of
+de door to de loft of de barn. Dere were some steps leadin' up dere and
+dat goat would walk up dem steps same as any body. De fuss thing de
+Yankees do, dey shoot dat goat. Den day start and tear up eberyt'ing.
+All de white folks had refugeed up North, and dey didn't do nuttin' to
+us niggers.
+
+"Fore dat time I was jes' a little boy too young to do nuttin'. Jes'
+played aroun' in de street. Ole Mr. Ben Bostick used to bring clothes
+an' shoes to us and see dat we was well cared for. Dere was nineteen
+houses in de street for us colored folks. Dey wuz all left by de
+soldiers. But in de year 1882 dere come a cyclone (some folks call it a
+tornado), and knocked down every house; only left four standing. Pieces
+of clothes and t'ings were carried for four or five miles from here. It
+left our house; but it took everyt'ing we had. It took de walls of de
+house, jes' left de floorin', an' it wus turn 'round. Took everyt'ing!
+I'd jes' been married 'bout a year, and you know how dat is. We jes' had
+to scuffle and scuffle 'roun' till de Lord bless us.
+
+"Dere wuz plenty of deer, squirrel, possum, an' rabbits in dem times; no
+more dan dere is now, but dere wuz no hinderance den as now. De deer
+come right up to my door now; dey come all 'roun' dis house, and we
+cain't do nuttin'. De other day one wuz over dere by dat peachtree, an'
+not long ago four of 'em come walkin' right through dis yard. I don't go
+fishin' no more. Folks say de streams is all dried up. But I used to be
+a good fisherman, me an' me ole woman. She's spryer'n me now. I used to
+allus protect her when we wuz young, an' now its her dat's acarin' for
+me. We had our gardens in de ole days, too. Oh, yes'm. Little patches of
+collards, greens an' t'ings, but now I ain't able to do nuttin', jes'
+hang 'roun' de place here.
+
+"My father used to belong to General Butler, Dennis Butler was his name.
+My mother was a Maner, but originally she wuz draw out of de Robert
+estate. Ole Ben Bostick fuss wife wuz a Robert. Dey wuz sure wealthy
+folks. One of 'em went off to sail. Bill F. Robert wuz his name. He had
+so much money dat he say dat he goin' to de end of de world. He come
+back an' he say he went so close hell de heat draw de pitch from de
+vessel. But he lost his eyesight by it. Wa'n't (it was not) long after
+he got back dat he went stone blind.
+
+"My ole boss, preacher Joe Bostick wuz one of de best of men. He wuz
+hard of hearin' like I is, an' a good ole man. But de ole lady, ole
+"Miss Jenny", she wuz very rough. She hired all de overseers, and she do
+all. If'n anybody try to go to de old man wid anyt'ing, she'd talk to
+'em herself an' not let 'em see de old man.
+
+"In slavery time de slaves wuz waked up every morning by de colored
+over-driver blowin' a horn. Ole man Jake Chisolm wuz his name. Jes' at
+daybreak, he'd put his horn through a crack in de upper part of de wall
+to his house an' blow it through dat crack. Den de under-driver would go
+out an' round 'em up. When dey done all dey day-work, dey come home an'
+cook dey supper, an' wash up. Den dey blow de horn for 'em to go to bed.
+Sometime dey have to out de fire an' finish dey supper in de dark. De
+under-driver, he'd go out den and see who ain't go to bed. He wouldn't
+say anyt'ing den; but next mornin' he'd report it to de overseer, an'
+dem as hadn't gone to bed would be whipped.
+
+"My mother used to tell me dat if any didn't do dey day's work, dey'd be
+put in de stocks or de bill-bo. You know each wuz given a certain task
+dat had to be finish dat day. Dat what dey call de day-work. When dey
+put 'em in de stocks dey tie 'em hand and foot to a stick. Dey could lie
+down wid dat. I hear of colored folks doin' dat now to dare chillun when
+dey don't do. Now de bill-bo wuz a stabe (stave) drove in de ground, an'
+dey tied dere hands and den dere feet to dat, standin' up. Dey'd work on
+Saturday but dey wuz give Sundays. Rations wuz give out on Mondays.
+Edmund Lawton went over to Louisiana to work on de Catherine Goride
+place, but he come back, 'cause he say dey blow dey horn for work on
+Sunday same as any other day, and he say he wa'n't goin' to work on no
+Sunday. Dey didn't have a jail in dem times. Dey'd whip 'em, and dey'd
+sell 'em. Every slave know what, 'I'll put you in my pocket, sir!' mean.
+
+"De slaves would walk when dey'd go anywhere. If'n dey buy a bunch of
+slaves in New Orleans, dey'd walk by night and day. I 'member when one
+young girl come back from refugin' wid de white folks, her feet were
+jes' ready to buss open, and dat wuz all. You couldn't travel unless de
+boss give you a pass. De Ku Klan had "patrol" all about in de bushes by
+de side of de road at night. And when dey caught you dey'd whip you
+almost to death! Dey'd horsewhip you. Dey didn't run away nowhere 'cause
+dey knowed dey couldn't.
+
+"If'n you wanted to send any news to anybody on another plantation, de
+overseer'd write de message for you and send it by a boy to de overseer
+of de other plantation, and he'd read it to de one you wrote to.
+
+"When de war wuz over, ole man Jones cone over frum Georgia and sell
+t'ings to de colored folks. He'd sell 'em everyt'ing. He took all de
+colored folks' money!
+
+"I learned to read when I wuz goin' to school when I wuz about fifteen
+years old, but I learned most I know after I wuz married, at night
+school, over on de Morrison place. De colored folks had de school, but
+'course Mr. Morrison was delighted to know dey wuz havin' it. As for
+church, in de olden times, people used to, more or less, attend under de
+bush-arbor. In 1875 when I jined de church, ole man John Butler wuz de
+preacher.
+
+"Ghosts? I'se met plenty of um! When I wuz courtin' I met many a
+one--One got me in de water, once. And another time when I wuz crossing
+a stream, I wuz on de butt end of de log, an' dey wuz on de blossom end,
+an' we meet jes' as close as I is to you now. I say to him, same as to
+anybody, 'I sure ain't goin' to turn back, and fall off dis log. Now de
+best t'ing for you to do is to turn 'round and let me come atter (after)
+you. You jes' got to talk to 'em same as to anybody. It don't pay to be
+'fraid of 'em. So he wheel 'round. (Spirits can wheel, you know.) And
+when he get to de end of de log, I say, 'Now you off and I off. You kin
+go on 'cross now.' Dey sure is a t'ing, all right! Dey look jes' like
+anybody else, 'cept'n it's jes' cloudy and misty like it goin' to pour
+down rain. But it don't do to be 'fraid of 'em. I ain't 'fraid of
+nuttin', myself. I never see 'em no more. Guess I jes' sorta out-growed
+'em. But dere sure is sech a t'ing, all right! De white folks'd see 'em,
+too. I 'member hearin' ole Joe Bostick, de preacher, say to a man, by de
+name of Tinlin, 'Did you hear dat hog barkin' last night? Well, de
+spirit come right in de house. Come right up over de mantlepiece.' I wuz
+in de field workin' same as I allus done, and I hear'd ole Joe horse a
+snortin'. Ole Joe didn't want nuttin'. He jes' want to see what I wuz
+doin'.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln done all he could for de colored folks. But dey cain't
+none of 'em do nuttin' without de Lord."
+
+  Source: Isaiah Butler, Garnett, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+  Approx. 800 Words
+
+  SOLBERT BUTLER EX-SLAVE OF 82 YEARS
+
+
+Miles from the highway old Solbert Butler lives alone under the shadow
+of the handsome winter home of an aged northerner upon the same soil
+that he has seen pass from Southerner to Negro, to Southerner, to
+Northerner. Though shrunken and bent with age he still enjoys talking.
+
+"I lives in de Deer Country. A couple of months ago, I saw eight in a
+drove at one time, like a drove of sheep, or sech like. You can't raise
+nuthin' 'round here. Dey'll eat up your garden. And de wild turkey! And
+de partridge! But you can't shoot 'em without de Cassels give you a
+license to do it. Now he comin' next month and dere'll be more shootin'!
+But he aint able to hunt none hisself. He kin ride 'bout in de woods in
+de car. Dey are blessed people, though!
+
+"Dis used to be de Bostick place. Old Massa Ben Bostick lived fourteen
+miles from here. Dere was Ben Bostick, Iva Bostick, Joe Bostick, Mr.
+Luther, Eddie Bostick, an' Jennie Jo Bostick. De place was divided up
+between 'em. O-oh! I couldn't number de plantations old Mr. Bostick
+owned. I think he owned fifteen plantations! He was de millinery
+(millionaire)! Oh, de Bosticks, O-oh!! De house dey live in, dey call
+um--what was it dey call um--de Paradise house. No one go to dat house
+but only de rich.
+
+"At Christmas dey'd go up dere. And oh, I couldn't number it! Oh, it was
+paradise. He was good to 'em. An' he whip 'em good, too! Tie 'em to de
+fence post and whip 'em. But I didn't' have anythin' of dat. I was a
+little boy. Jes' 'bout six year old when de war broke out. But I got
+plenty of whippin's all right.
+
+"Massa take me as a little boy as a pet. Took me right in de carriage!
+Had a little bed right by his own an' take care of me. Every morning dey
+bring in dey tray, an' go back. My uncle was a carriage man. Dey kept
+two fine horses jes' for de carriage. Massa'd come up to de Street every
+Monday morning with big trays of rations. He'd feed his colored folk,
+den go on back."
+
+(Another old ex-slave from the same plantation had said that on Mondays
+the week's rations were given out.)
+
+"Dey planted cotton, corn, peas, potatoes, rice--an' dey'd lick you! All
+de time, dey'd lick you. After dey'd lick 'em until de blood come out,
+den dey'd rub de red pepper and salt on 'em. Oh, my God! Kin you say dem
+as done sech as dat aint gone to deir reward? My uncle was so whip he
+went into de woods, an' live dere for months. Had to learn de
+independent life. Mr. Aldridge was de overseer. Old Mr. Aldridge gone
+now. But dere can't be no rest for him. Oh my God no! He do 'em so mean
+dat finally ole Massa hear 'bout it. And when he do hear 'bout it, he
+discharged him. He had everything discharged--to de colored driver. Den
+he got Mr. Chisolm. After Mr. Chisolm come in, everythin' jes' as sweet
+an' smooth as could be! Dere's a nice set of people for you--de
+Chisolms. Two of 'em livin' now. One at Garnett, an' one at Luray, I
+believe.
+
+"I refugeed wid Massa. Dey come together in Virginia. Dey surrendered in
+Virginia. Set de house afire. And set all dey houses. Dey burned Massa's
+cotton. Over 200 bales! But if'n de colored folks begged for some, dey
+let 'em have some. I stayed right wid Massa. He carried me everywhere he
+went. Carried me all de way to Mill Haven, Georgia.
+
+"After de war de colored folks jes' took an' plant de crop an' make de
+livin' wid de hoe. Didn't have no mule, no ox, or thin' like dat. When
+ole Massa come back, he took de cotton, an' give de colored folks de
+corn. De Yankees kill all de hog. Kill all de cow. Kill all de fowl.
+Left you nothin' to eat. If de colored folk had any chicken, dey jes'
+had to take dat an' try to raise 'em somethin' to eat.
+
+"I'se a Methodist. I was converted under Elder Drayton--come from
+Georgia at St. Luke Methodist Church on de Blake Plantation. De Blake
+Plantation right dere. It jines dis one. De ole Methodist white folk's
+church where I was baptized been take down. It was called de Union
+Church. But de cemetery still dere. It right up dere not a mile down de
+road. Dere was a good ole preacher name of Rev. Winborn Asa Lawton. An'
+de camp meetin'! Oh, Lord, Lord! Dey had over a thousand dere. Come from
+Orangeburg. Come from Aiken! An' come way from Cheraw! Come from
+Charleston, Beaufort, and Savannah! De colored folks got a church now
+up here on what used to be de Pipe Creek place of ole Ben Bostick where
+de white folks used to have a Baptist church. De colored folks church
+call it Kenyon Church. Dat's de church dey white folks moved to
+Lawtonville, den to Estill. But when de colored folks built, dey built
+de church to face de East. Built on de same foundation; but face it
+east, facing a little road dat had sprung up and wind 'round dat way
+right in close to de church. But de white folks church was face west,
+facing de Augusta road. Dat big space twixt de road and de church was a
+grove.
+
+"Ghosts? I used to 'em. I see 'em all de time. Good company! I live over
+dere by myself, an' dey comes in my house all de time. Sometime I walk
+along at night an' I see 'em. An' when you see 'em you see a sight. Dey
+play. Dey dance 'round an' 'round. Dey happy all right. But dey'll devil
+you, too. When dey find out dat you scary, dey'll devil you. Dey don't
+do nothin' to me. Only talk to me. I'll be in my house an' dey'll come
+talk to me. Or I'll be walkin' down de road, an' meet 'em. Dey'll pass
+de time of day wid me, Like:
+
+  'Hey, Solbert! How far you goin', Solbert?'
+
+  'I'se jes' goin' down de road a little piece,' I'll say.
+
+  'Uh-huh'.
+
+"Or sometime dey'll say, 'Mornin', Solbert. How you feeling?'
+
+  'I'se jes' so so'.
+
+  'Uh-huh'.
+
+"Dey all favors. Dey all looks alike. You remembers when dat car come
+down de road jes' now? Well, I see a bunch of 'em right den! Dey get out
+de road for dat car to pass. Oh, you can't see 'em. No matter how much I
+shows 'em to you--you can't see 'em. But me! Dey swell wid me. I see 'em
+all de time. De big house up dere. It full of 'em. De white folks see
+'em, too. Dat is some of de white folks. I see de other day a white man
+dat has to work up here start toward de house when de ghosts was comin'
+out thick. When I tell him you ought to see him turn an' run. One of 'em
+push me over in de ditch one time. I say,
+
+  'Now what you done dat for?'
+
+  'Well, dat aint nothin''
+
+  'Aint nothin'. But don't you do dat no more.'
+
+"I talks to 'em jes' de same as if dey was somebody. Some folks outgrows
+'em. But not me. You have to be born to see 'em. If'n you be born
+wrapped in de caul, you kin see 'em. But if you aint, you can't see
+'em."
+
+  Source: Solbert Butler, 82 years, R. F. D. Scotia, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  District #4
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  May 31, 1937
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born on the other side of Maybinton, in Newberry County, South
+Carolina. Old Squire Kenner was my master and his wife, Lucy, my
+mistress. My pa was Joseph Gilliam, who was a slave of John Gilliam, and
+my mamma was Lou Kenner, who was a slave of Squire Kenner. I stayed with
+my mamma at Squire Kenner's and waited on my mistress, Mrs. Lucy Kenner,
+who was the best white woman I know of--just like a mother to me, wish I
+was with her now. I stayed there 'till my mistress died, was right by
+her bed.
+
+"It sure was a good place to live. Dey didn't give us money for work but
+we had enough to eat and place to sleep and a few clothes. Squire had a
+big farm he got from the Hancocks, some of his kin. He didn't have
+overseers; he looked after his own farms. Master had a big garden and
+give us lots from it to eat. We hunted 'possums, rabbits, squirrels,
+wild turkeys, on the river. We lived right near Broad River.
+
+"I remember de padderrolers; dey come to my pa's house and want to come
+in, but pa had an old musket gun and tole them if dey come in dey
+wouldn't go out alive--and dey went away.
+
+"After the day's work was done, the slaves would set down and talk, and
+on Saturday afternoons, they would stay home, go fishing or wash up, and
+sometimes the chaps would go to de river and watch the boats full of
+cotton go by. On Sundays we go to church. They made us go to Baskets
+church, de white folks church, and set in the gallery. On Christmas Day
+we would get time off and master would give us good things to eat. We
+never had any corn-shuckings and cotton pickings there. All of the
+family and the slaves do that work on moon-shiney nights. We had some
+games we played, like Molly Bright, Hiding Switches, Marbles. We played
+on Sunday, too, unless the mistress calls us in and stops us.
+
+"When a slave got sick we sent for the doctor. We never put much store
+in herb root tea and such like.
+
+"The Yankees went through Maybinton but didn't get over as far as us.
+Some say they stole cattle and burned ginhouses.
+
+"Squire Kenner was killed in the war, and when the war was over we
+stayed on with de mistress; she was like a mamma. She had a son who was
+killed in the war, too. Another son lived there and we worked for him
+after Mistress died, but he soon moved far away and sold out his
+plantation. His name was Howsen Kenner.
+
+"I married Walter Cain at Mr. Walter Spearman's house, a good white man,
+and the white folks give us a good supper after the wedding. I had one
+child, 2 grandchildren, and one great-grand-child. I joined the church
+before I married 'cause I wanted to do better, do right and live right,
+and get religion. I think everybody ought to join the church and live
+right. That is the reason the Lord blesses me in lots of ways today. We
+had good time in slavery--sometimes I wish I was back there--would have
+somebody to take of you and help you. If my mistress was living I would
+rather be back in slavery."
+
+  Source: Granny Cain (90), RFD, Newberry; by G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  Sept. 22, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born near the village of Maybinton, and lived on old Squire
+Kenner's plantation. Squire Kenner and his wife, mistress Lucy, was good
+to me. My mistress was so good I wish I was living with her now, I sho
+wouldn't have such a hard time getting something to eat. I am old and
+have rheumatism and can't get about good now.
+
+"I live with some of my grand children, but they can't make so much for
+us. We manage to eat, though. We rent a two-room house about two miles
+from Newberry Courthouse.
+
+"I don't know nothing about 40 acres of land for the slaves after the
+war. We just stayed on with the master 'til he died, for wages; then we
+hired out to other people for wages. I don't know nothing 'bout slaves
+voting after the war. There was no slave up-risings then in our section.
+
+"Ever since the war was over, the slaves have worked for wages on
+plantations or moved to town and got little jobs here and there where
+they could. Some of the slaves would rent small farms from land owners
+or work the farms on shares. None of the slaves in our section come from
+Virginia."
+
+  Source: "Granny" Cain (90), Newberry County, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 8/10/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  May 24, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Union County, S. C., not far from the ferry on Tyger
+River. My mother was a slave of George R. Tucker who lived on the Enoree
+River. I can't remember slavery times nor the war; but I remember about
+the end of the war when everybody was coming home.
+
+"My mother was a weaver, going to the white folks' houses and weaving
+clothes for them for small pay. Carding and spinning was done by all the
+white families at home.
+
+"The farms had large gardens and raised most everything to eat. Large
+patches of turnips, cabbage and green vegetables was the custom at that
+time."
+
+  Source: Laura Caldwell (77), Newberry, S. C.
+  Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. May 20, 1937
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Dec. 15, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  [~HW: (Caldwell~]
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I own a little farm, about 22 acres, and I live on it wid my wife. I
+ain't been married but once, but we had 15 chilluns. Dey is all done
+married and left us. I is gitting so I can't do much work any more,
+'specially plowing. I lives below Prosperity. I was born above dar, near
+Beaver Dam Creek on de old Davenport place.
+
+"My daddy was Alfred Caldwell and my mammy was Suella Caldwell. She was
+a Nelson. Dem and me belonged to Marse Gillam Davenport. Marse Gillam
+sho was rapid. I saw him whip my mammy till you couldn't put a hand on
+her shoulder and back widout touching a whelp. Marse Gillam killed a man
+and dey put him in Jail in Newberry, but he died befo' de trial come
+off. Atter dat, I was put in de hands of his son, Sam Davenport. Dis was
+atter freedom come. He was a purty good man, but my mammy was always
+careful. At night she say, 'Come in chilluns, I got to fasten de do'
+tight.' We lived in a little log house den. When we moved from dar we
+went to Dr. Welch's place, jes' dis side of it.
+
+"De niggers never had any churches till atter de war; den dey used brush
+arbors or some old broke-down log house. We never had schools den, not
+till later. I never had a chance to go a-tall.
+
+"I 'member de Ku Klux and how dey rid around in white sheets, killing
+all de niggers. De Red Shirts never killed but dey sometimes whipped
+niggers. My daddy voted de Republican ticket den, but I know'd two
+niggers dat was Democrats and rode wid de Red Shirts. Dey was old Zeb
+and old Jeff Bozard.
+
+"We had a big camp meeting sometimes at a log house dat was called
+'Hannah's Church'. It was named for a nigger man of slavery time. He
+bought de land for de church when freedom come and give it to dem. Dis
+church is on de other side of Bush River, near Mr. Boulware's place.
+
+"In old times we had plenty to eat dat we raised on de farm. We had
+gardens, too. We raised hogs and made our own flour. We never worked on
+Saturday afternoons and Sundays. On Christmas we got together and tried
+to have extra things to eat, and maybe a few drinks.
+
+"In old times we had lots of corn-shuckings and log-rollings. De niggers
+all around would come and help, den we would git a feast of lamb or pig
+that was cooked while we was working.
+
+"Some old folks use to make medicines out of herbs. I 'member my ma
+would take fever grass and boil it to tea and have us drink it to keep
+de fever away. She used branch elder twigs and dogwood berries for
+chills. Another way to stop chills from coming was to dip a string in
+turpentine, keep it tied around de waist and tie a knot in it every time
+you had a chill.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln was a good man. Seems like all de niggers loved him
+lots. I don't know much about Jefferson Davis. Booker Washington was a
+good man. I 'member he was once in Newberry and I heard him preach in de
+old courthouse. (?)
+
+"I joined de church when I was 12 years old. In dem days de old folks
+made chillun go to church when dey was 12 years old, and join den. Dat
+was de reason I joined. I was a Methodist but I joined de Baptist later,
+because, well, I saw dat was de right way."
+
+  Source: Solomon Caldwell (73), Newberry, S. C. RFD
+  Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 12/7/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon,
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  NELSON CAMERON
+  EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS.
+
+
+Nelson Cameron and his wife, Mary, together with a widowed daughter,
+Rose, and her six children, live in a four-room frame house, two miles
+south of Woodward, S. C., about sixty yards east of US highway #21. He
+cultivates about eighty acres of land, on shares of the crop, for Mr.
+Brice, the land owner. He is a good, respectable, cheerful old darkey,
+and devoted to his wife and grandchildren.
+
+"Marse Wood, Ned Walker, a old Gaillard nigger says as how he was down
+here t'other day sellin' chickens, where he got them chickens I's not
+here for to say, and say you wanna see me. I's here befo' you and pleads
+guilty to de charge dat I'm old, can't work much any longer, and is poor
+and needy.
+
+"You sees dere's a window pane out of my britches seat and drainage
+holes in both my shoes, to let de sweat out when I walks to Bethel
+Church on Sunday. Whut can you and Mr. Roosevelt do for dis old
+Izrallite a passin' thru de wilderness on de way to de Promise Land? Lak
+to have a little manna and quail, befo' I gits to de river Jordan.
+
+"My old marster name Sam Brice. His wife, my mistress, tho' fair as de
+lily of de valley and cheeks as pink as de rose of Sharon, is called
+'Darkie.' Dat always seem a misfit to me. Lily or Rose or Daisy would
+have suited her much more better, wid her laces, frills, flounces, and
+ribbons. Her mighty good to de slaves. Take deir part 'ginst de marster
+sometime, when him want to whup them. Sometime I sit on de door-steps
+and speculate in de moonlight whut de angels am like and everytime, my
+mistress is de picture dat come into dis old gray head of mine. You say
+you don't want po'try, you wants facts?
+
+"Well, here de facts: My mammy name Clara. Don't forgit dat. I come back
+to her directly. My young mistress was Miss Maggie. Her marry Marse
+Robert Clowney; they call him 'Red-head Bob.' Him have jet red hair. Him
+was 'lected and went to de Legislature once. No go back; he say dere too
+much ding dong do-nuttin' foolishness down dere for him to leave home
+and stay 'way from de wife and chillun half de winter months.
+
+"Marse Sam never have so pow'ful many slaves. Seem lak dere was more
+women and chillun than men. In them days, pa tell me, a white man raise
+niggers just lak a man raise horses or cows. Have a whole lot of mares
+and 'pendin' on other man to have de stallion. Fust thing you know dere
+would be a whole lot of colts kickin' up deir heels on de place. Lakwise
+a white man start out wid a few women folk slaves, soon him have a
+plantation full of little niggers runnin' 'round in deir shirt-tails and
+a kickin' up deir heels, whilst deir mammies was in de field a hoeing
+and geeing at de plow handles, workin' lak a man. You ketch de point?
+Well I's one of them little niggers. My pa name Vander. Him b'long to
+one of de big bugs, old Marse Gregg Cameron. Marse Gregg, him 'low,
+always have more money and niggers than you could shake a stick at, more
+land than you could walk over in a day, and more cuss words than you
+could find in de dictionary. His bark was worser than his bite, tho'. Pa
+was de tan-yard man; he make leather and make de shoes for de
+plantation. After freedom date, de way he make a livin' for mammy and us
+chillun was by makin' boots and shoes and half solin' them for white
+folks at Blackstock, S. C. Marse Sam Brice mighty glad for mammy to
+contact sich a man to be de pappy of her chillun.
+
+"Us live in a log house wid a little porch in front and de mornin' glory
+vines use to climb 'bout it. When they bloom, de bees would come a
+hummin' 'round and suck de honey out de blue bells on de vines. I
+'members dat well 'nough, dat was a pleasant memory. Is I told you my
+mammy name Clara? My brothers and sisters, who they? George dead, Calvin
+dead, Hattie (name for pa's young mistress) dead, Samson, who got his
+ear scald off in a pot of hot water, is dead, too. I's existing still. I
+did mighty little work in slavery times. 'Members not much 'bout de
+Yankees.
+
+"Freedom come, pa come straight as a martin to his gourd, to mammy and
+us pickaninnies. They send us to school at Blackstock and us walk
+fourteen miles, and back, every day to school. At school I meets Mary
+Stroud, a gal comin' from de Gaillard quarter. Her eyes was lak twin
+stars. Her hair lak a swarm of bees. All my studyin' books was changed
+to studyin' how to git dat swarm of bees in a hive by myself. One day I
+walk home from school with her and git old Uncle Tom Walker to marry us,
+for de forty cents I saved up. Us happy ever since. Nex' year I work for
+Ben Calvin, a colored man on de Cockerell place, jinin' de Gaillard
+place. Us did dat to be near her pappy, Uncle Morris Stroud.
+
+"All thru them 'Carpet Bag' days my pappy stuck to de white folks, and
+went 'long wid de Ku Kluxes. His young mistress, Miss Harriet Cameron,
+marry de Grand Titan of all de Holy invisible Roman Empire. Him name was
+Col. Leroy McAfee. Pappy tell me all 'bout it. Marse Col. McAfee come
+down from North Ca'lina, and see Marse Feaster Cameron at old Marse
+Gregg Cameron's home and want Marse Feaster to take charge down in dis
+State. While on dat visit him fall in love wid Marse Feas's sister,
+Harriet, and marry her. You say Marse Tom Dixon dedicate a book to her,
+de Clansman? Well, well, well! To think of dat. Wish my pappy could a
+knowed dat, de Sundays he'd take dat long walk to Concord Church to put
+flowers on her grave. They all lie dere in dat graveyard, Old Marse
+Gregg, Marse Leroy, Miss Harriet, and Marse Feas. De day they bury Marse
+Feas de whole county was dere and both men and women sob when de red
+earth rumbled on his coffin top. Pappy had me by de hand and cried lak a
+baby, wid de rest of them, dat sad day.
+
+"Does you 'member de time in 1884, when my pappy made you a pair of
+boots for $10.00 and when you pay him, him knock off one dollar and you
+pay him nine dollars? You does? Well dat is fine, for I sure need dat
+dollar dis very day.
+
+"Does I 'member de day old Marse Gregg die? 'Course I does. It happen
+right here in Winnsboro. Him come down to 'tend John Robinson's Circus.
+Him lak Scotch liquor; de tar smell, de taste, and de 'fect, take him
+back to Scotland where him generate from. Them was bar-room days in
+Winnsboro. De two hotels had bar-rooms, besides de other nine in town.
+Marse Gregg had just finished his drink of Scotch. De parade of de
+circus was passing de hotel where he was, and de steam piano come by a
+tootin'. Marse Gregg jump up to go to de street to see it. When it pass,
+him say: 'It's a damn humbug' and drop dead."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1855
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  THOMAS CAMPBELL
+  EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"Good mornin' Marster Wood! Marster Donan McCants and Marster Wardlaw
+McCants both been tellin' me dat how you wants to see me but I's been so
+poorly and down at de heels, in my way of feelin', dat I just ain't of a
+mind or disposition to walk up dere to de town clock, where they say you
+want me to come. Take dis bench seat under de honey suckle vine. It
+shade you from de sun. It sho' is hot! I's surprise dat you take de walk
+down here to see a onery old man lak me.
+
+"Yes sir, I was born, 'cordin' to de writin' in de Book, de 15th day of
+March, 1855, in de Horeb section of Fairfield District, a slave of old
+Marster John Kennedy. How it was, I don't know. Things is a little mixed
+in my mind. Fust thing I 'members, and dreams 'bout sometimes yet, is
+bein' in Charleston, standin' on de battery, seein' a big ocean of
+water, wid ships and their white sails all 'bout, de waves leapin' and
+gleamin' 'bout de flanks of de ships in de bright sunshine, thousands of
+white birds flyin' 'round and sometimes lighting on de water. My mammy,
+her name Chanie, was a holdin' my hand and her other hand was on de
+handle of a baby carriage and in dat carriage was one of de Logan
+chillun. Whether us b'long to de Logans or whether us was just hired out
+to them I's unable to 'member dat. De slaves called him Marster Tom. Us
+come back to Fairfield in my fust childhood, to de Kennedy's.
+
+"Marster John Kennedy raise more niggers than he have use for; sometime
+he sell them, sometime he hire them out. Him sell mammy and me to
+Marster James B. McCants and I been in de McCants family ever since,
+bless God!
+
+"Marse James was a great lawyer in his day. I was his house boy and
+office boy. When I get older I take on, besides de blackin' of his boots
+and shoes and sweepin' out de office, de position of carriage driver and
+sweepin' out de church. Marster James was very 'ligious. Who my pa was?
+Dat has never been revealed to me. Thank God! I never had one, if they
+was lak I see nigger chillun have today. My white folks was all de
+parents I had and me wid a skin as black as ink. My belly was always
+full of what they had and I never suffer for clothes on my back or shoes
+on my feets.
+
+"Does I 'members de Yankees? Yes sir, I 'member when they come. It was
+cold weather, February, now dat I think of it. Oh, de sights of them
+days. They camp all 'round up at Mt. Zion College and stable their
+hosses in one of de rooms. They gallop here and yonder and burn de
+'Piscopal Church on Sunday mornin'. A holy war they called it, but they
+and Wheeler's men was a holy terror to dis part of de world, as naked
+and hungry as they left it. I marry Savannah Parnell and of all our
+chillun, dere is just one left, a daughter, Izetta. Her in Tampa,
+Florida.
+
+"Does I 'members anything 'bout de Ku Klux? No sir, nothin'. I was
+always wid de white folks side of politics. They wasn't concerned 'bout
+me. Marster James have no patience for dat kind of business anyhow. Him
+was a lawyer and believed in lettin' de law rule in de daylight and
+would have nothin' to do wid work dat have to have de cover of night and
+darkness.
+
+"Does I 'member 'bout de red shirts? Sure I does. De marster never wore
+one. Him get me a red shirt and I wore it in Hampton days. What I
+recollect 'bout them times? If you got time to listen, I 'spect I can
+make anybody laugh 'bout what happen right in dis town in red shirt
+days. You say you glad to listen? Well, here goes. One time in '76. de
+democrats have a big meetin' in de court house in April. Much talk last
+all day. What they say or do up dere nobody know. Paper come out next
+week callin' de radicals to meet in de court house fust Monday in May.
+Marster Glenn McCants, a lawyer, was one of old marster's sons. He tell
+me all 'bout it.
+
+"De day of de radical republican meetin' in de court house, Marster Ed
+Ailen had a drug store, so him and Marster Ozmond Buchanan fix up four
+quart bottles of de finest kind of liquor, wid croton-oil in every
+bottle. Just befo' de meetin' was called to order, Marster Ed pass out
+dat liquor to de ring leader, tellin' him to take it in de court house
+and when they want to 'suade a nigger their way, take him in de side
+jury rooms and 'suade him wid a drink of fine liquor. When de meetin'
+got under way, de chairman 'pointed a doorkeeper to let nobody in and
+nobody out 'til de meetin' was over, widout de chairman say so.
+
+"They say things went along smooth for a while but directly dat
+croton-oil make a demand for 'tention. Dere was a wild rush for de door.
+De doorkeeper say 'Stand back, you have to 'dress de chairman to git
+permission to git out'. Chairman rap his gavel and say, 'What's de
+matter over dere? Take your seats! Parliment law 'quire you to 'dress de
+chair to git permission to leave de hall'. One old nigger, Andy Stewart,
+a ring leader shouted: 'To hell wid Parliment law, I's got to git out of
+here.' Still de doorkeeper stood firm and faithful, as de boy on de
+burnin' deck, as Marster Glenn lak to tell it. One bright mulatto
+nigger, Jim Mobley, got out de tangle by movin' to take a recess for
+ten minutes, but befo' de motion could be carried out de croton-oil had
+done its work. Half de convention have to put on clean clothes and de
+court house steps have to be cleaned befo' they could walk up them
+again. You ask any old citizen 'bout it. Him will 'member it. Ask old
+Doctor Buchanan. His brother, de judge, was de one dat help Marster Ed
+Aiken to fix de croton-oil and whiskey.
+
+"Well, dat seem to make you laugh and well it might, 'cause dat day been
+now long ago. Sixty-one years you say? How time gits along. Well,
+sixty-one years ago everybody laugh all day in Winnsboro, but Marster Ed
+never crack a smile, when them niggers run to his drug store and ask him
+for somethin' to ease their belly ache."
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, October 5, 1937
+  No. Words
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  SYLVIA CANNON,
+  Ex-Slave, Age 85
+
+
+"Yes, mam, I been a little small girl in slavery time. I just can
+remember when I was sold. Me en Becky en George. Just can remember dat,
+but I know who bought me. First belong to de old Bill Greggs en dat whe'
+Miss Earlie Hatchel bought me from. Never did know whe' Becky en George
+went. Yes, mam, de Bill Greggs had a heap of slaves cause dey had my
+grandmammy en my granddaddy en dey had a heap of chillun. My mammy, she
+belong to de Greggs too. She been Mr. Gregg's cook en I de one name
+after her. I remembers she didn' talk much to we chillun. Mostly, she
+did sing bout all de time. Most of de old people sing bout;
+
+  'O Heaven, sweet Heaven,
+  When shall I see?
+  If you get dere fore me,
+  You tell my Lord I on de way.
+  O shall I get dere?
+  If you get dere fore I do,
+  You tell My Lord I on de way.
+  O Heaven, sweet Heaven,
+  When shall I see?
+  O when shall I get dere?'
+
+"Oh, dat be a old song what my grandmammy used to sing way back dere."
+
+"I don' know exactly how old I is cause de peoples used to wouldn' tell
+dey chillun how old dey was fore dey was grown. I just ain' able to say
+bout my right age, but I know my sister was older den me en she de one
+keep count us chillun age. She told me I be bout 84 or 85 years old, so
+my sister tell me. She done gone en left me en I try to keep count, but
+I don' know. Dere been bout 14 head of we chillun en dey all gone but
+me. I de last one. I can tell you dis much, I was just a little small
+girl when Miss Earlie Hatchel bought me en she wouldn' let me hold de
+baby cause she was 'fraid I would drop it. I just set dere on de floor
+en set de baby 'tween my legs, but my Lord, Miss Hatchel been so good to
+me dat I stay on dere wid her 8 years after freedom come. Miss Hatchel
+tell me I better stay on dere whe' I can get flour bread to eat. Yes,
+mam, never got a whippin in all my life. Miss Hatchel, she shake me by
+de shoulders once or twice, but never didn' whip me in all my life dat I
+knows of. Dat de reason, when my parents come after me, I hide under de
+bed. My mammy, she went in de name of Hatchel en all her chillun went in
+de name of Hatchel right down dere in de Effingham section."
+
+"No, honey, don' nobody be here wid me. Stays right here by myself. Digs
+in de garden in de day en comes in de house at night. Yes, mam, I
+thought dis house been belong to me, but dey tell me dis here place be
+city property. Rich man up dere in Florence learn bout I was worth over
+$1500.00 en he tell me dat I ought to buy a house dat I was gettin old.
+Say he had a nice place he want to sell me. I been learned dat what
+white folks tell me, I must settle down on it en I give him de money en
+tell him give me de place he say he had to sell me. I been trust white
+folks en he take my money en settle me down here on city property. He
+say, 'Mom Sylvia, you stay here long as you live cause you ain' gwine be
+here much longer.' I promise my God right den not to save no more money,
+child. People back dere didn' spend money like dey do dese days en dat
+how-come I had dat money. Dey would just spend money once a year in dat
+day en time. Yes, mam, I pay dat man over $900.00. Been payin on it long
+time en got it all paid but $187.00 en city find out what dat man had
+done. City tell me just stay on right here, but don' pay no more money
+out. Dey give me dat garden en tell me what I make I can have.
+Courthouse man tell me dat I ought to drop my thanks to de Heavenly
+Father dat I is free. If de town picks up any sick person, dey bring dem
+here en tell me do de best I can for dem. Tell me to keep good order so
+de people won' be shame to come en see bout me. Got two houses dere join
+together. Dere be four rooms in dis front one en three in de other
+house. Woman go up north en leave her things here en tell me if she ain'
+come back, I could have dem en she ain' come back yet. Been gone two
+years."
+
+"Yes, mam, I been married twice. First husband die en den another sick
+man come along en ax de city for me. I work on him en make teas for him,
+but he die in bout two years. I beg de town to let me go out to de poor
+farm en stay, but dey say I done pay too much to move. Tell me stay on
+here en keep de house up de best way I can.
+
+"No'um, I ain' able to do no kind of work much. No more den choppin my
+garden. Can' hardly see nothin on a sunny day. I raise my own seed all
+right cause sometimes I can' see en find myself is cut up things en dat
+make me has to plant over another time. City tell me do like I was raise
+en so I been choppin here bout 20 years."
+
+"Oh, now go way from here. My son born in de year of de earthquake en if
+he had lived, I would been bless wid plenty grandchillun dese days. Yes,
+mam, I remember all bout de shake. Dey tell me one man, Mr. Turner, give
+way his dog two or three days fore de earthquake come en dat dog get
+loose en come back de night of de shake. Come back wid chain tied round
+his neck en Mr. Turner been scared most to death, so dey tell me. He
+say, 'Oh, Mr. Devil, don' put de chain on me, I'll go wid you.' Dat was
+his dog come back en he thought it was de devil come dere to put de
+chain on him. Yes, mam, dere was such a cuttin up every which a way
+cause de people thought it was de Jedgment comin. I went a runnin dere
+to de white folks house en such a prayin en a hollerin, I ain' never see
+de like fore den en ain' see it since den neither. Dere was stirrin
+everywhe' dat night en de water in de well was just a slashin. I tried
+to pray like de rest of de people. Some say dey was ready to get on de
+old ship of Zion. I cut loose from de white folks en went in de woods to
+pray en see a big snake en I ain' been back since. I know dat ain' been
+nothin but a omen en I quit off cuttin up. I know it ain' been no need
+in me gwine on like dat cause I ain' never do no harms dat I knows of."
+
+"Yes, mam, white folks had to whip some of dey niggers in slavery time,
+dey be so mean. Hear tell bout some of dem would run away en go in de
+woods en perish to death dere fore dey would come out en take a whippin.
+Some was mean cause dey tell stories on one another en been swear to it.
+My mammy tell me don' never tell nothin but de truth en I won' get no
+whippin. I been raise up wid de white folks en I tell de truth, I can'
+hardly stand no colored people."
+
+"Oh, honey, dere won' no such thing as cotton mill, train, sawmill or
+nothin like dat in my day. People had to set dere at night en pick de
+seed out de cotton wid dey own hands. Didn' hear tell bout no telephone
+nowhe' in dem days en people never live no closer den three en four
+miles apart neither. Got old Massa horn right in dat room dere now dat
+he could talk on to people dat be 16 miles from whe' he was. Come in
+here, child, en I'll let you see it. See, dis old horn been made out of
+silver money. You talks in dat little end en what you say runs out dat
+big end. Man ax me didn' I want to sell it en I tell him I ain' got no
+mind to get rid of it cause it been belong to old Massa. Den if I get
+sick, I call on it en somebody come. Wouldn' take nothin for it, honey."
+
+"Times was sho better long time ago den dey be now. I know it. Yes, mam,
+I here frettin myself to death after dem dat gone. Colored people never
+had no debt to pay in slavery time. Never hear tell bout no colored
+people been put in jail fore freedom. Had more to eat en more to wear
+den en had good clothes all de time cause white folks furnish
+everything, everything. Dat is, had plenty to eat such as we had. Had
+plenty peas en rice en hog meat en rabbit en' fish en such as dat.
+Colored people sho fare better in slavery time be dat de white folks had
+to look out for dem. Had dey extra crop what dey had time off to work
+every Saturday. White folks tell dem what dey made, dey could have.
+Peoples would have found we colored people rich wid de money we made on
+de extra crop, if de slaves hadn' never been set free. Us had big rolls
+of money en den when de Yankees come en change de money, dat what made
+us poor. It let de white people down en let us down too. Left us all to
+bout starve to death. Been force to go to de fish pond en de huckleberry
+patch. Land went down to $1.00 a acre. White people let us clear up new
+land en make us own money dat way. We bury it in de ground en dat
+how-come I had money. I dig mine up one day en had over $1500.00 dat I
+been save. Heap of peoples money down dere yet en dey don' know whe' to
+find it."
+
+  Source: Sylvia Cannon, age 85, ex-slave, Marion St., Florence,
+                 S. C.
+                 Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, October, 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, August 4, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  SYLVIA CANNON
+  Ex-Slave, Age 85.
+  Florence, S. C.
+
+
+"I lives here by myself cause my husband been dead three years. Moved
+here fore my chillun went to de war. I go to work en buy dis here home
+en get whe' I can' pay tax en people tell me not to move. Say, rent me
+bed en catch me a dollar, if it ain' a sin to rent your bed for a
+dollar. One of de big officers of de town tell me dat last week en he
+die next day. Government take my house en when dey carry sick peoples
+from de jail, dey bring em here fore dey die. It ain' but one night
+journey. Ain' gwine let dem be live enough to run away. Ain' got no kin
+to leave de house to en dey tell me stay on here. Dey say I work so hard
+to get dis house dat dey ain' gwine make me leave here."
+
+(Aunt Sylvia has a sign in her front yard. It seems she took the frame
+of a large picture and inserted a piece of pasteboard into it. She
+explained that this sign is a warning to evil doers not to molest her.
+She says that they must not come past this sign. The words on the sign
+are somewhat illegibly written. The interviewers were able to make out
+these words: "This is a house of the Lord. Don't go pass. This is a
+house of the Lord...." Sign is dated March 1, 1937).
+
+"I don' know how old I is, but I remembers I was 8 years old when
+freedom come. I born down dere in de Effingham section on Mr. Gregg
+plantation. My half-sister say I must always remember de Christmas day
+cause dat de day I was born. Father en mother belong to de old Bill
+Greggs en dat whe' Miss Earlie Hatchel buy me from. After dat, I didn'
+never live wid my parents any more, but I went back to see dem every two
+weeks. Got a note en go on a Sunday evenin en come back to Miss Hatchel
+on Monday. Miss Hatchel want a nurse en dat how-come she buy me. I
+remembers Miss Hatchel puttin de baby in my lap en tell me don' drop
+him. Didn' have to do no work much in dem days, but dey didn' allow me
+to play none neither. When de baby sleep, I sweep de yard en work de
+garden en pick seed out de cotton to spin. Nursed little while for Miss
+Hatchel en den get free."
+
+"I see em sell plenty colored peoples away in dem days cause dat de way
+white folks made heap of dey money. Coase dey ain' never tell us how
+much dey sell em for. Just stand em up on a block bout three feet high
+en a speculator bid em off just like dey was horses. Dem what was bid
+off didn' never say nothin neither. Don' know who bought my brothers,
+George en Earl. (She cried after this statement). I see em sell some
+slaves twice fore I was sold en I see de slaves when dey be travelin
+like hogs to Darlington. Some of dem be women folks lookin like dey
+gwine to get down dey so heavy."
+
+"We fare good in dat day en time. Everybody round dere fare good. My
+Massa always was good to his slaves cause all de colored people say he
+was good man to us. Dey never whip me in all my life. Tell me if I don'
+know how to do anything to tell dem en dey show me how. I remembers Miss
+Hatchel caught en shook me one time en when I tell her husband, he tell
+her to keep his hands off his little Nigger. Dey all was good to me.
+When I start home to see my mamma, dey cry after me till I come back.
+Many a time my Missus go work in de field en let me mind de chillun."
+
+"We live in de quarter bout ½ mile from de white folks house in a one
+room pole house what was daubed wid dirt. Dere was bout 20 other colored
+people house dere in de quarter dat was close together en far apart too.
+De ground been us floor en us fireplace been down on de ground. Take
+sticks en make chimney cause dere won' no bricks en won' no saw mills to
+make lumber when I come along. Oh, my white folks live in a pole house
+daubed wid dirt too. Us just had some kind of home-made bedstead wid
+pine straw bed what to sleep on in dem days. Sew croaker sack together
+en stuff em wid pine straw. Dat how dey make dey mattress. Didn' get
+much clothes to wear in dat day en time neither. Man never wear no
+breeches in de summer. Go in his shirt tail dat come down to de knees en
+a 'oman been glad enough to get one piece homespun frock what was made
+wid dey hand. Make petticoat out of old dress en patch en patch till
+couldn' tell which place weave. Always put wash out on a Saturday night
+en dry it en put it back on Sunday. Den get oak leaves en make a hat
+what to wear to church. We didn' never have but one pair of shoes a year
+en dey was dese here brogans wid thick soles en brass toes. Had shop
+dere on de plantation whe' white man made all de shoes en plows. Dey
+would save all de cowhide en soak it in salt two or three weeks to get
+de hair off it en dey have big trough hewed out whe' dey clean it after
+dey get de hair off it. After dat, it was turn to de man at de shop."
+
+"I remembers when night come on en we go back to de quarter, we cook
+bread in de ashes en pick seed from de cotton en my mamma set dere en
+sew heap of de time. Den I see em when dey have dem hay pullings. Dey
+tote torch to gather de hay by en after dey pull two or three stacks of
+hay, dey have a big supper en dance in de road en beat sticks en blow
+cane. Had to strike fire on cotton wid two rocks cause dey didn' have no
+match in dem days."
+
+"I tellin you my Missus sho was good to me in dat day en time. She been
+so good to me dat I stay dere wid her 20 year after I got free. Stay
+dere till I marry de old man Isenia Cannon. You see my old Massa got
+killed in de war. She tell me I better stay whe' I can get flour bread
+to eat cause she make her own flour en bake plenty biscuit in de oven.
+Den she kill hogs en a cow every Christmas en give us all de egg-nog en
+liquor we want dat day. Dig hole in de ground en roast cow over log
+fire. When I get hard up for meat en couldn' get nothin else, I catch
+rabbits en birds. Make a death trap wid a lid en bait it wid cabbage en
+corn en catch em dat way. Den another time, I dig deep hole in de ground
+en dob it wid clay en fill it up wid water. Rabbits hunt water in de
+night en fall in dere en drown. I used to set traps heap of times to
+keep de rabbits from eatin up de people gardens. Folks eat all kind of
+things durin de war. Eat honeysuckle off de low sweet bush after de
+flower falls off en pine mass dat dey get out de burr en sour weeds.
+Wouldn' nobody eat dem things dese days. Coase dey let de slaves have
+three acres of land to a family to plant for dey garden. Work dem in
+moonlight nights en on a Saturday evenin."
+
+"Oh, yes, dey have white overseers den. I hear some people say dey was
+good people. At night de overseer would walk out to see could he catch
+any of us walkin widout a note en to dis day, I don' want to go nowhe'
+widout a paper. It just like dis, de overseer didn' have to be right
+behind you to see dat you work in dem days. Dey have all de fields name
+en de overseer just had to call on de horn en tell you what field to go
+work in dat day. Den he come along on a Saturday evenin to see what you
+done. If you ain' do what he say do, he put de Nigger dog on you en he
+run you all night till he find you. No matter whe' you hide, he find
+you en hold you till de overseer get dere. Bite you up if dey get reach
+of you. When de overseer come, he carry you to de stables en whip you.
+Dey dat ain' never got no whipping, you can' do nothin wid dem dese
+days."
+
+"I got Miss Hatchel horn bout here now dat been through nearly 100 head
+of people. If you talk on it, dere de 100 head of automobiles to see
+what it is. I sold old Massa's sword last week for ten cents, but I ain'
+gwine do away wid his old horn. (4 ft. long, 15 in. cross big end 1 in.
+from top end. Mouth piece is gone. Catch about 15 in. from top). Can
+talk to anybody 15 to 16 miles away en dat how-come I don' want to sell
+it cause if anything happen, I can call people to come. Dis horn ain' no
+tin, it silver. It de old time phone. Got old Massa maul too en dis here
+Grandpa oxen bit dat was made at home."
+
+"De white folks didn' never help none of we black people to read en
+write no time. Dey learn de yellow chillun, but if dey catch we black
+chillun wid a book, dey nearly bout kill us. Dey was sho better to dem
+yellow chillun den de black chillun dat be on de plantation. Northern
+women come dere after de war, but dey didn' let em teach nobody nothin."
+
+"I go to church wid my white folks, but dey never have no church like
+dey have dese days. De bush was dey shelter en when it rain, dey meet
+round from one house to another. Ride to church in de ox cart cause I
+had to carry de baby everywhe' I go. White folks didn' have no horse
+den. De peoples sho been blessed wid more religion in dem days den dese
+days. Didn' never have to lock up nothin den en if you tell a story, you
+get a whippin. Now de peoples tell me to tell a story. I been cleanin up
+a lady porch en she tell me to tell anybody what come dere dat she ain'
+home. A lady come en ax fer her en I tell her she say anybody come here,
+tell em I ain' home. If you don' believe she here, look in de bedroom.
+Miss Willcox come out dere en beat me in de back. I tell her don' read
+de Bible en tell me to tell a story. I ain' gwine tell no story cause my
+white folks learnt me not to do dat. I knows people was better in dem
+times den dey is now. Dey teach you how you ought to treat your neighbor
+en never hear no bad stories nowhe'. Massa en Missus taught me to say a
+prayer dat go like dis:
+
+  "De angels in Heaven love us,
+  Bless mamma en bless papa,
+  Bless our Missus,
+  Bless de man dat feedin us,
+  For Christ sake."
+
+"De peoples use herb medicines for dey cures in dem days dat dey get out
+de woods. I make a herb medicine dat good for anything out de roots of
+three herbs mix together. Couldn' tell you how I make it cause dat
+would ruin me. Town people try to buy de remedy from me, but Dr. McLeod
+tell me not to sell it. Dey offer me $1500.00 for it, but I never take
+it."
+
+"You want my mind, my heart, de truth en I gwine tell you it just like I
+see it. Since de colored peoples got de law, dey get in all kind of
+devilment. Dat how-come if I had to go back, I would go back to slavery
+en stay wid my white folks."
+
+  Source: Sylvia Cannon, ex-slave, age 85, Florence. S. C.
+
+  Personal interview by H. Grady Davis and Mrs.
+  Lucile Young, and written up in question and
+  answer form. Rewritten in story form by Annie Ruth
+  Davis.
+
+
+  FUNERAL SONG
+
+  Star in de east en star in de west,
+  I wish de star was in my breast.
+  Mother is home, sweet home,
+  Mother is home, sweet home,
+  Want to join de angel here.
+  What a blessed home, sweet home,
+  What a blessed home, sweet home,
+  Want to join de angel here.
+
+(You can sing bout father, brother, sister en all.)
+
+  Sylvia Cannon,
+
+  Ex-Slave, age 85,
+  May 21, 1937,
+  Florence, S. C.
+
+
+  FUNERAL SONG
+
+  Come ye dat love de Lord,
+  En let your joys be known.
+  Hark from de tomb,
+  En hear my tender voice.
+  By de grace of God I'll meet you
+  On Canaan Happy Shore.
+  Oh, mother, where will I meet you on Canaan Happy Shore?
+  En by de grace of God I'll meet you on Canaan Happy Shore.
+
+(Shaking hands, marching around grave. White en Colored marched from
+church to graveyard. Old people in de ox cart en young people walking.
+Didn' have coffins like dey do now. Build de coffin en black it wid
+smut. Blacksmith make de nails. Could see in de box.)
+
+  Sylvia Cannon,
+  Ex-Slave, age 85,
+  May 21, 1937,
+  Florence, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project No. 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Mrs. Genevieve Chandler
+  Place, Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Date, March 25, 1937
+  Typed by M. C., N. Y. A.
+  No Words ----
+  Reduced from Words ----
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  [~HW: Georgetown Co~]
+  [~HW: HEAVEN'S GATE CHURCH~]
+
+  (Verbatim conversation by Uncle Albert Carolina.):
+
+
+When asked about the founding of Heaven's Gate colored Methodist
+church Rev. Albert Carolina answered:
+
+  "In the beginning of Freedom they separate us from whites.
+      'Sixty one the war begun;
+      Sixty four the war was o'er."
+
+"Rev. Zacharias Duncan wuz the man. He the one built Heaven Gate church.
+Brother Henry Smith and Brother David Kidd and old man Jackson Heywood
+wuz the old ones built it. Some more been there. Can't think of them.
+Old man Jim Beaty wuz one. Can't remember no more. He wuz Allston man.
+(That means he was a slave owned by the Allstons) Uncle Dave Kidd, he
+owned a tract of land in the Savannah.
+
+"Brought us up in Sabbus (Sabbath) school. Sunrise prayer-meeting. Ten
+o'clock Sunday school. Leven o'clock the service. Three o'clock service
+again. Eight at night--service again. Raise us taughen (taught) in the
+church. Steal off Slavery time in they own house and have class meeting.
+Driver come find'em, whip'em. Th' patrolls come riding down th' road.
+Four plait whip. Two big black dog. White pat-roller. Ketch without
+pass, they whip me. Crawling. (I was crawling). But I walk then and walk
+every since! Bo-cart. Dat's what they call it--'Bo-cart'. (Crude home
+made baby walker.) Bout seventy seven years since I start. Remember
+nother thing going on in them time. Mausser gin (give) the women a task.
+Didn't done it. Next day didn't done it. Saturday come, task time out!
+Driver! I tell yuh th' truth, you could hear those people, 'Murder!
+Murder!'
+
+"Judge Kershaw was a fine man. His boy William--I and William born the
+same day.
+
+"We never has met th' bed yet, without family prayer--and never get up
+without it. Didn't low them with a book in they hand. The Driver learn
+you at night if he like you. Try to out-wage (educate) you at night.
+Didn't have any school.
+
+"Mother's father Indian. Brighter than, who? Who round here bright as my
+Grand-father? Hannah! Hair was long. Wouldn't stay home. Lives in th'
+swamp. Wouldn't stay out. Grandmother wuz African. She had a little bowl
+make out of clay."
+
+  Uncle Albert Carolina, age 87 (colored)
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  March 8th, 1937.
+
+(A description followed of how his grand-parents built a kiln of clay
+pots and baked them.)
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+
+  SILVIA CHISOLM
+  Ex-Slave 88 Years Old
+
+
+"Aunt Silvie", sitting out in the sunshine in the yard of a small negro
+cabin, on a warm day in January, seemed very old and feeble. Her answers
+to questions were rather short and she appeared to be preoccupied.
+
+"I been fifteen year old when de Yankee come--fifteen de sixth of June.
+I saw 'em burn down me Massa's home, an' everythin'. I 'members dat. Ole
+man Joe Bostick was me Massa. An' I knows de Missus an' de Massa used to
+work us. Had de overseer to drive us! Work us till de Yankees come! When
+Yankee come dey had to run! Dat how de buildin' burn! Atter dey didn't
+find no one in it, dey burn! De Marshall house had a poor white woman in
+it! Dat why it didn't burn! My Massa's Pineland place at Garnett was
+burn, too. Dey never did build dis un (one) back. Atter dey come back,
+dey build deir house at de Pineland place.
+
+"I wus mindin' de overseer's chillun. Mr. Beestinger was his name! An'
+his wife, Miss Carrie! I been eight year old when dey took me. Took me
+from me mother an' father here on de Pipe Creek place down to Black
+Swamp. Went down forty-two mile to de overseer! I never see my mother or
+my father anymore. Not 'til atter freedom! An' when I come back den I
+been married. But when I move back here, I stay right on dis Pipe Creek
+place from den on. I been right here all de time.
+
+"Atter I work for Mr. Beestinger, I wait on Mr. Blunt. You know Mr.
+Blunt, ain't you? His place out dere now.
+
+"Mr. Bostick was a good ole man. He been deaf. His chillun tend to his
+business--his sons. He was a preacher. His father was ole man Ben
+Bostick. De Pipe Creek Church was ole Missus Bostick's Mammy's church.
+When de big church burn down by de Yankees, dey give de place to de
+colored folks. Stephen Drayton was de first pastor de colored folks had.
+Dey named de church, Canaan Baptist Church. Start from a bush arbor. De
+white folks church was paint white, inside an' out. It was ceiled
+inside. Dis church didn't have no gallery for de colored folks. Didn't
+make no graveyard at Pipe Creek! Bury at Black Swamp! An' at
+Lawtonville! De people leave dat church an' go to Lawtonville to
+worship. Dey been worshipping at Lawtonville ever since before I could
+wake up to know. De Pipe Creek Church jes' stood dere, wid no service in
+it, 'til de Yankee burn it. De church at Lawtonville been a fine church.
+Didn't burn it! Use it for a hospital durin' de war!
+
+"I'se 88 year old now an' can't remember so much. An' I'se blind! Blind
+in both eye!"
+
+  Source: Silvia Chisolm, R. F. D. Estill, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Stiles M. Scruggs
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  AN EX-SLAVE WHO CLIMBED UP
+  WITH WHITE FOLKS.
+
+
+Tom Chisolm, a sixty-two year old bricklayer, 11 Railroad Street,
+Columbia, S. C., is a son of Caesar Chisolm, who represented Colleton
+County in the South Carolina House of Representatives for ten years.
+Caesar was one of the few leading Negroes, who voted and spoke for the
+Democratic Party and was friendly to the leaders of white supremacy
+until he died in 1897. Tom relates the following story:
+
+"My daddy was born in slavery and he was always treated good by his
+master, de late Jimeson Chisolm, of Colleton County. He could read and
+figure up 'most anything, when he was set free, and he had notions of
+his own, too. For instance, he marry my mammy. She die soon after I was
+born, and daddy say to me: 'Son, your mammy is gone, but you need not
+fear dat any other woman will ever boss you. I's through with wives.'
+And he never marry again.
+
+"I come to Columbia with him, when he serve in de Legislature. When he
+tell de niggers and white folks, back in Colleton, dat he was not aimin'
+to run for de Legislature no more, they was sad. One time I go with him
+to Smoak's, where Congressman George D. Tillman was to speak on one of
+his campaigns. I felt pretty big, when Congressman Tillman smile and
+grasp de hand of my daddy and say: 'You's goin' to say a few words for
+me befo' I starts, eh, Chisolm?' 'I sho' will, if you laks,' say my
+daddy. Soon he mount de platform, and befo' he say a word, both de white
+and de niggers clap deir hands and stamp deir feets and smile. My daddy
+bow, smile, and say: 'Ladies and gentlemen: We, us, and company sent
+George Tillman to Congress long ago and knows what he has done. Now we's
+gwine to send him back, and I is a little in doubt as to whether he is
+gwine to take us to Washington, or bring Washington down here!' He say,
+he jus' git started. But de crowd was laughin', dancin', and huggin' de
+Congressman, and daddy laugh and set down.
+
+"He introduce Master Duncan Clinch Heyward at Walterboro in 1902, when
+Master Heyward was making his first race for governor. He raise such
+laughter and pay so many witty compliments to Master Heyward, dat
+Governor Heyward, when he was 'lected, appoint my daddy to an office in
+Columbia, and we come to Columbia to live in 1903. My daddy retire at de
+same time dat Governor Heyward quit office, in 1907. He later wrote
+insurance on de lives of niggers, and he prosper.
+
+"'Bout 1885, my daddy happen to be walkin' near de corner of Gervais and
+Pulaski streets, and two niggers meet dere at de time and begin to
+quarrel. My daddy stop and watch them awhile. One of them niggers kill
+de other, and some time afterward a nigger lawyer come to see my daddy
+and ask him: 'Wasn't you dere?' 'I sho' was,' say my daddy. De nigger
+lawyer laugh and slap daddy on de back and say: 'Come on.' Daddy come
+back in a few hours pretty tipsy. 'Dat lawyer spend a lot on me,' say
+daddy, 'but de fool never let me tell him jus' what I knows.'
+
+"A day or two afterward he was in de witness box. De nigger lawyer say:
+'Now, Mister Chisolm, tell your tale in your own way.' Daddy say: 'I saw
+de defendant and de man, now dead, as they meet. They glare at each
+other and begin to talk harsh and cuss each other. Then, one strike at
+de other and they back 'way and begin to reach in deir hind pockets.'
+Daddy stop, and de nigger lawyer fairly scream: 'Yes, yes, go on!' 'That
+all I saw,' say my daddy, 'cause I run to cover. I made it to de next
+corner in nothin' flat and pick up speed afterward. So I was two blocks
+'way, when I hear de shootin'!' De nigger lawyer nearly faint. He say:
+'Who bought you off?' Daddy say he would have told him at de start, if
+he'd had de chance.
+
+"At another time, we was down on de 700 block of Wayne Street, at a
+nigger gatherin'. We often spend days down dere collectin' weekly
+insurance dues, and we knowed most of de people. Dere happen to be a
+young nigger dere, back from de West for a visit, and he was a great
+bragger. He was tellin' 'bout corn in Texas. 'Dere,' he said, 'corn grow
+twenty feet high, with stalks as big as the arm of John L. Sullivan,
+when he whupped Kilrain, and half a dozen big ears on each stalk.' De
+crowd was thunderstruck.
+
+"My daddy cleared his throat and say: 'Dat am nothin' in de way of corn.
+One day I was walkin' past a forty-acre patch of corn, on de Governor
+Heyward plantation by de Combahee River and de corn was so high and
+thick, I decide to ramble through it. 'Bout halfway over, I hears a
+commotion. I walks on and peeps. Dere stands a four-ox wagon backed up
+to de edge of de field, and two niggers was sawin' down a stalk. Finally
+they drag it on de wagon and drive off. I seen one of them, in a day or
+two, and asks 'bout it. He say: 'We shelled 366 bushels of corn from dat
+one ear, and then we saw 800 feet of lumber from de cob.'
+
+"Dat young man soon slip out from de crowd and has never been seen here
+since. I thinks daddy was outdone with me, 'cause I was not quickwitted
+and smart, lak him. He tell me once: 'You must learn two good trades,
+and I think carpenterin' and brick-layin' safest.' I done that, and I
+has never been sorry, 'cause I's made a good livin'. Governor Heyward
+was always a good friend of daddy, and he was proud to see us makin'
+good in de insurance business."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  May 24, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born near old Bush River Baptist Church, in Newberry County, S.
+C. I was the slave of John Satterwhite. My mother lived with them. I was
+a small girl when the war was on. My brother went to war with Marse
+Satterwhite. When de Ku Klux and paddrollers traveled around in that
+section, they made Mr. Satterwhite hold the niggers when they was
+whipped, but he most all the time let them loose, exclaiming, 'they got
+loose'--he did not want many of them whipped.
+
+"My mother had a kitchen way off from the house, wid a wide fireplace
+where she cooked victuals. There was holes in back of de chimney with
+iron rods sticking out of them to hold de pans, pots, kettles or
+boilers.
+
+"People there did not believe much in ghosts. They were not much
+superstitious, but one time some of the negroes thought they heard the
+benches in Bush River Baptist Church turn over when nobody was in the
+church.
+
+"Negroes most always shouted at their religious meetings. Before de
+negroes had their own church meetings, the slaves went to the white
+folks' Bush River Baptist church and set up in the gallery. I moved to
+Newberry when I was young, after I got married."
+
+  Source: Maria Cleland, Newberry, S. C. (80 years old).
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (5/17/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  PETER CLIFTON
+  EX-SLAVE, 89 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"You want me to start wid my fust memory and touch de high spots 'til
+dis very day? Dat'll take a long time but I glad to find someone to tell
+dat to; I is! I 'members when I was a boy, drivin' de calves to de
+pasture, a highland moccasin snake rise up in de path. I see dat forked
+tongue and them bright eyes right now. I so scared I couldn't move out
+my tracks. De mercy of de Lord cover me wid His wings. Dat snake uncoil,
+drop his head, and silently crawl away. Dat was on de Biggers Mobley
+place 'tween Kershaw and Camden, where I was born, in 1848.
+
+"My pappy name Ned; my mammy name Jane. My brudders and sisters was Tom,
+Lizzie, Mary, and Gill. Us live in a log house wid a plank floor and a
+wooden chimney, dat was always ketchin' afire and de wind comin' through
+and fillin' de room wid smoke and cinders. It was just one of many
+others, just lak it, dat made up de quarters. Us had peg beds for de old
+folks and just pallets on de floor for de chillun. Mattresses was made
+of wheat straw but de pillows on de bed was cotton. I does 'member dat
+mammy had a chicken feather pillow she made from de feathers she saved
+at de kitchen.
+
+"My grandpappy name Warren and grandmammy name Maria. De rule on de
+place was: 'Wake up de slaves at daylight, begin work when they can see,
+and quit work when they can't see'. But they was careful of de rule dat
+say: 'You mustn't work a child, under twelve years old, in de field'.
+
+"My master's fust wife, I heard him say, was Mistress Gilmore. Dere was
+two chillun by her. Master Ed, dat live in a palace dat last time I
+visit Rock Hill and go to 'member myself to him; then dere was Miss Mary
+dat marry her cousin, Dr. Jim Mobley. They had one child, Captain Fred,
+dat took de Catawba rifles to Cuba and whip Spain for blowin' up de
+Maine. You say you rather I talk 'bout old master and de high spots?
+Well, Master Biggers had a big plantation and a big mansion four miles
+southeast of Chester. He buy my mammy and her chillun in front of de
+court house door in Chester, at de sale of de Clifton Estate. Then he
+turn 'round and buy my pappy dere, 'cause my mammy and sister Lizzie was
+cryin' 'bout him have to leave them. Mind you I wasn't born then.
+Marster Biggers was a widower then and went down and courted de widow
+Gibson, who had a plantation and fifty slaves 'tween Kershaw and Camden.
+Dere is where I was born.
+
+"Marster had one child, a boy, by my mistress, Miss Sallie. They call
+him Black George. Him live long enough to marry a angel, Miss Kate
+McCrorey. They had four chillun. Dere got to be ninety slaves on de
+place befo' war come on. One time I go wid pappy to de Chester place.
+Seem lak more slaves dere than on de Gibson place. Us was fed up to de
+neck all de time, though us never had a change of clothes. Us smell
+pretty rancid maybe, in de winter time, but in de summer us no wear very
+much. Girls had a slip on and de boys happy in their shirt tails.
+
+"Kept fox hounds on both places. Old Butler was de squirrel and 'possum
+dog. What I like best to eat? Marster, dere is nothin' better than
+'possum and yallow sweet 'taters. Right now, I wouldn't turn dat down
+for pound cake and Delaware grape wine, lak my mistress use to eat and
+sip while she watch my mammy and old Aunt Tilda run de spinnin' wheels.
+
+"De overseer on de place was name Mr. Mike Melton. No sir, he poor man
+but him come from good folks, not poor white trash. But they was cussed
+by marster, when after de war they took up wid de 'publican party. Sad
+day for old marster when him didn't hold his mouth, but I'll get to dat
+later.
+
+"Marster Biggers believe in whippin' and workin' his slaves long and
+hard; then a man was scared all de time of being sold away from his wife
+and chillun. His bark was worse then his bite tho', for I never knowed
+him to do a wicked thing lak dat.
+
+"How long was they whipped? Well, they put de foots in a stock and clamp
+them together, then they have a cross-piece go right across de breast
+high as de shoulder. Dat cross-piece long enough to bind de hands of a
+slave to it at each end. They always strip them naked and some time they
+lay on de lashes wid a whip, a switch or a strap. Does I believe dat was
+a great sin? No sir. Our race was just lak school chillun is now. De
+marster had to put de fear of God in them sometime, somehow, and de
+Bible don't object to it.
+
+"I see marster buy a many a slave. I never saw him sell but one and he
+sold dat one to a drover for $450.00, cash down on de table, and he did
+dat at de request of de overseer and de mistress. They was uneasy 'bout
+him.
+
+"They give us Christmas Day. Every woman got a handkerchief to tie up
+her hair. Every girl got a ribbon, every boy a barlow knife, and every
+man a shin plaster. De neighbors call de place, de shin plaster, Barlow,
+Bandanna place. Us always have a dance in de Christmas.
+
+"After freedom when us was told us had to have names, pappy say he love
+his old Marster Ben Clifton de best and him took dat titlement, and I's
+been a Clifton ever since.
+
+"Go way, white folks! What everthing mate for? De birds, de corn tassle
+and de silk, man and woman, white folks and colored folks mates. You ask
+me what for I seek out Christina for to marry. Dere was sumpin' 'bout
+dat gal, dat day I meets her, though her hair had 'bout a pound of
+cotton thread in it, dat just 'tracted me to her lak a fly will sail
+'round and light on a 'lasses pitcher. I kept de Ashford Ferry road hot
+'til I got her. I had to ask her old folks for her befo' she consent.
+Dis took 'bout six months. Everything had to be regular. At last I got
+de preacher, Rev. Ray Shelby to go down dere and marry us. Her have been
+a blessin' to me every day since.
+
+"Us have seven chillun. They's scattered east, west, north, and south.
+De only one left is just David, our baby, and him is a baby six foot
+high and fifty-one years old.
+
+"Yes sir, us had a bold, drivin', pushin', marster but not a
+hard-hearted one. I sorry when military come and arrest him. It was dis
+a way, him try to carry on wid free labor, 'bout lak him did in slavery.
+Chester was in military district no. 2. De whole state was under dat
+military government. Old marster went to de field and cuss a nigger
+woman for de way she was workin', choppin' cotton. She turnt on him wid
+de hoe and gashed him 'bout de head wid it. Him pull out his pistol and
+shot her. Dr. Babcock say de wound in de woman not serious. They swore
+out a warrant for Marster Biggers, arrest him wid a squad, and take him
+to Charleston, where him had nigger jailors, and was kicked and cuffed
+'bout lak a dog. They say de only thing he had to eat was corn-meal-mush
+brought 'round to him and other nice white folks in a tub and it was
+ladeled out to them thru de iron railin' into de palms of dere hands.
+Mistress stuck by him, went and stayed down dere. The filthy prison and
+hard treatments broke him down, and when he did get out and come home,
+him passed over de river of Jordan, where I hopes and prays his soul
+finds rest. Mistress say one time they threatened her down dere, dat if
+she didn't get up $10,000 they would send him where she would never see
+him again.
+
+"Well, I must be goin'. Some day when de crops is laid by and us get de
+boll weevil whipped off de field, I'll get David to bring me and dat
+gal, Christina, you so curious 'bout, to Winnsboro to see you. Oh, how
+her gonna laugh and shake her sides when I get home and tell her all
+'bout what's down on dat paper! You say it's to be sent to Washington?
+Why, de President and his wife will be tickled at some of them things.
+I's sure they will. Dat'll make Christina have a great excitement when I
+tell her we is to be talked 'bout way up dere. I 'spect it will keep her
+wake and she'll be hunchin' me and asking me all thru de night, what I
+give in.
+
+"Oh, well, I's thankful for dis hour in which I's been brought very near
+to de days of de long long ago. Maybe I'll get a pension and maybe I
+won't. Just so de Lord and de President take notice of us, is enough for
+me."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  From Field Notes.
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  April 29, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (Negro)
+
+
+"I wuz born in Fairfield, dat is over yonder across Broad River, you
+knos what dat is, don't you? Yes sir, it wuz on Marse Johnson D.
+Coleman's plantation. And he had a plantation! Dese niggers here in
+Carlisle--and niggers is all dey is too--dey don't know what no
+plantation is. When I got big enough fer to step around, from de very
+fus, my maw took me in de big house. It still dat, cep it done bout fell
+down now, to what it wuz then. But some of Marse's folks, dey libs down
+dar still. Den you see, dey is like dese white folks up 'round here now.
+Dey ain't got no big money like dey had when I wuz a runnin' up. Time I
+got big enough fer to run aroun' in my shirt tail, my maw, she lowed one
+night to my paw, when he wuz settin by de fire, dat black little nigger
+over dar, he got to git hissef some pants kaise I'se gwine to put him up
+over de white fokes table. In dem times de doos and winders, dey nebber
+had no screen wire up to dem like dey is now. Fokes didn't know nothin
+bout no such as dat den. My Marster and all de other big white fokes,
+dey raised pea fowls. Is yu ebber seed any? Well, ev'y spring us little
+niggers, we coch dem wild things at night. Dey could fly like a buzzard.
+Dey roosted up in de pine trees, right up in de tip top. So de Missus,
+she hab us young uns clam up dar and git 'em when dey first took roost.
+Us would clam down and my maw, she would pull de long feathers out'n de
+tails. Fer weeks de cocks, dey wouldn't let nobody see 'em if dey could
+help it. Dem birds is sho proud. When dey is got de feathers, dey jus
+struts on de fences, and de fences wuz rail in dem days. If'n dey could
+see dereself in a puddle o' water after a rain, dey would stay dar all
+day a struttin' and carring on like nobody's business. Yes sir, dem wuz
+purty birds. After us got de feathers, de Missus, she'ud low dat all de
+nigger gals gwine to come down in de wash house and make fly brushes.
+Sometime de Missus 'ud gib some of de gals some short feathers to put in
+dere Sunday hats. When dem gals got dem hats on, I used to git so
+disgusted wid 'em I'd leave 'em at church and walk home by my sef.
+Anyway, by dat time all de new fly brushes wuz made and de Missus, she
+hab fans make from de short feathers for de white fokes to fan de air
+wid on hot days. Lawdy, I'se strayed fur from what I had started out fer
+to tell you. But I knowed dat you young fokes didn't know nothin' bout
+all dat. In dem days de dining room wuz big and had de windows open all
+de summer long, and all de doos stayed streched too. Quick as de mess of
+victuals began to come on de table, a little nigger boy was put up in de
+swing, I calls it, over de table to fan de flies and gnats off'en de
+Missus' victuals. Dis swing wuz just off'n de end of de long table. Some
+of de white fokes had steps a leadin' up to it. Some of 'em jus had de
+little boys maws to fech de young'uns up dar till dey got fru; den dey
+wuz fetched down again.
+
+"Well, when I got my pants, my maw fetched me in and I clumb up de steps
+dat Marse Johnson had, to git up in his swing wid. At fus, dey had to
+show me jus how to hole de brush, kaise dem peacock feathers wuz so
+long, iffen you didn't mind your bizness, de ends of dem feathers would
+splash in de gravy er sumpin nother, and den de Missus table be all
+spattered up. Some o' de Marsters would whorp de nigger chilluns fer dat
+carelessness, but Marse Johnson, he always good to his niggers. Mos de
+white fokes good to de niggers round bout whar I comes from.
+
+"It twad'nt long for I got used to it and I nebber did splash de
+feathers in no rations. But iffen I got used to it, I took to agoin to
+sleep up thar. Marse Johnson, he would jus git up and wake me up. All de
+white fokes at de table joke me so bout bein' so lazy, I soon stop dat
+foolishness. My maw, she roll her eyes at me when I come down atter de
+marster had to wake me up. Dat change like ever thing else. When I got
+bigger, I got to be house boy. Dey took down de swing and got a little
+gal to stand jus 'hind de Missus' chair and fan dem flies. De Missus low
+to Marse Johnson dat de style done change when he want to know how come
+she took de swing down. So dat is de way it is now wid de wimmen, dey
+changes de whole house wid de style; but I tells my chilluns, ain't no
+days like de ole days when I wuz a shaver.
+
+"Atter de war, I come up to Shelton and got to de 'P' Hamilton place. I
+wuz grown den. I seed a young girl dar what dey called 'Evvie'. Her paw,
+he had b'longed to de Chicks, so dats who she wuz, Evvie Chick. Dar she
+sets in dat room by de fire. Now us got 'leven chilluns. Dey is
+scattered all about. Dey is good to us in our ole age. Us riz 'em to
+obey de Lawd and mine us. Dats all dey knows, and iffen fokes would do
+dat now, dey wouldn't have no sassy chilluns like I sees here in
+Carlisle.
+
+"Evvie, what year wuz it we got married? Yes, dat's right. It wuz de
+year of de 'shake'. Is you heerd bout de 'shake'? Come out here Evvie
+and les tell him dat, kaise dese young fokes doan know nothin'. It wuz
+dark, and we wuz eatin' supper, when sumpin started to makin' de dishes
+fall out'n de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz somebody a jumpin' up
+and down on de flo. Den we knowed dat it wuz sumpin else er makin' dem
+dishes fall out o' de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz Judgment day,
+kaise ev'ry thing started fallin' worser and worser. De dishes fell so
+fast you couldn't pick'em up. Some of us went down to de spring. De
+white fokes, dey come along wid us and dey make us fetch things from de
+big house, like fine china dat de Missus didn't want to git broke up.
+She tole us dat it wuz er earthquake and it wasn't no day o' Judgment.
+Anyway, we lowed de white fokes might be wrong, so us niggers started to
+a prayin', and den all de niggers on de plantation dat heerd us, well de
+come along and jined wid us in de prayin' and singin'. Us wuz all a
+shakin' mos as bad as de earth wuz, kaise dat wuz a awful time dat we
+libbed through fer bout twenty minutes--de white fokes lowed it lasted
+only ten, but I ain't sho about dat. When we got back to de big house,
+de cupboard in de kitchen had done fell plum' down. In de nigger houses,
+de chimneys mos all fell in, and de chicken houses ev'rywhar wuz shuck
+down. While we wuz a lookin' aroun, and de wimmen fokes, dey wuz a
+takin' on mightily another shake come up. Us all took fer de spring
+agin; dis one lasted bout long as de first one. Us prayed and sung and
+shouted dis time. It sho stopped de earth a shakin' and a quiverin'
+some, kaise dat thing went on fer a whole week; ceptin de furs two wuz
+de heaviest. All de other ones wuz lighter. Iffen it hadn't been fur us
+all a beggin' de Lawd fer to sho us his mercy, it ain't no tellin' how
+bad dem shakes would er been. Miss Becky Levister, you know her, she
+live up yander in your uncle John's house now, she wuz wid us. She wuz
+jus a little girl den. Her paw wuz Mr. Kelly. He died for ever you wuz
+born. Not long ago I seed her. She lowed to me, 'uncle Henry, do you
+recollect in de time o' de shake? Lacken she think I'd fergit such as
+dat. It wuz in de time o' de worsest things dis ole nigger is ebber seed
+hisself, and I is gwine on 82 now. Miss Becky, she wuz a settin' in her
+car wid some one drivin' her, but she ain't fergot dis ole nigger. If I
+is up town and Miss Becky, she ride by, she look out and lows' 'Howdy
+uncle Henry', and I allus looks up and raises my hat. I likes mannerable
+white fokes, mysef, and den, I likes mannerable niggers fer as dat goes.
+Some of dese fokes, now both white--I hates to say it--and niggers, dey
+trys to act like dey ain't got no sense er sumpin'. But you know one
+thing I knos real fokes when I sees dem and dey can't fool me."
+
+Aunt Evvie tells the following story about her father, Rufus Chick. The
+story is known by all of the reliable white folks of the surrounding
+neighborhood also: "My paw, Rufus Chick, lived on the Union side of
+Broad River, the latter days of his life. Maj. James B. Steadman had
+goats over on Henderson Island that my paw used to care for. He went
+over to the Island in a batteau. One afternoon, he and four other
+darkies were going over there when the batteau turned over. The four
+other men caught to a willow bush and were rescued. My paw could not
+swim, and he got drowned. For three weeks they searched for his body,
+but they never did find it. Some years after, a body of a darky was
+found at the mouth of the canal, down near Columbia. The body was
+perfectly petrified. This was my paw's body. The canal authorities sent
+the body to a museum in Detroit. It was January 11, 1877 when my father
+got drowned.
+
+"When I wuz a young fellow I used to race wid de horses. I wuz de swifes
+runner on de plantation. A nigger, Peter Feaster, had a white horse of
+his own, and de white fokes used to bet amongst de selves as much as
+$20.00 dat I could outrun dat horse. De way us did, wuz to run a hundred
+yards one way, turn around and den run back de hundred yards. Somebody
+would hold de horse, and another man would pop de whip fer us to start.
+Quick as de whip popped, I wuz off. I would git sometimes ten feet ahead
+of de horse 'fore dey could git him started. Den when I had got de
+hundred yards, I could turn around quicker dan de horse would, and I
+would git a little mo' ahead. Corse wid dat, you had to be a swift man
+on yer feets to stay head of a fas horse. Peter used to git so mad when
+I would beat his ole horse, and den all de niggers would laf at him
+kaise de white fokes give me some of de bettin money. Sometimes dey
+would bet only $10.00, sometimes, $15 or $20. Den I would race wid de
+white fokes horses too. Dey nebber got mad when I come out ahead. After
+I got through, my legs used to jus shake like a leaf. So now, I is gib
+plum out in dem and I tributes it to dat. Evvie, she lowed when I used
+to do dat after we wuz married, dat I wuz gwine to give out in my legs,
+and sho nuf I is."
+
+"Uncle" Henry says that his legs have given out in the bone.
+
+  Source: Henry Coleman and his wife, Evvie, of Carlisle, S. C.
+  Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  District #4
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  May 31, 1937
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born about 1857 and my wife about 1859. I lived on Squire
+Keller's farm, near the Parr place, and after the squire died I belonged
+to Mrs. Elizabeth (Wright) Keller. My mother died when I was a boy and
+my father was bought and carried to Alabama. My father was Gilliam
+Coleman and my mother, Emoline Wright. My master and mistress was good
+to me. The old Squire was as fine a man as ever lived on earth. He took
+me in his home and took care of me. After the war the mistress stayed on
+the place and worked the slaves right on, giving them wages or shares.
+
+"The slaves were not whipped much; I 'member one man was whipped pretty
+bad on Maj. Kinard's place. He had a colored man to do whipping for
+him--his name was Eph. There was no whiskey on the place, never made
+any. Us did cooking in the kitchen wid wide fireplaces.
+
+"When the Yankees came through at the end of the war, they took all the
+stock we had. The mistress had a fine horse, its tail touching the
+ground, and we all cried when it was taken; but we got it back, as some
+men went after it.
+
+"I married in 1874 to Ellen T. Williams. She belonged to Bill Reagan.
+After I married I worked in the railroad shops at "Helena", and
+sometimes I fired the engine on the road, for about eight years. Then I
+went into the ministry. I was called by the Spirit of the Lord,
+gradually, and I preached 51 years. I have been superannuated two years.
+
+"I have one child, a son, who is in the pullman service at Washington,
+D. C.
+
+"I owned my little house and several acres and am still living on it."
+
+  Source: Rev. Tuff Coleman and wife (80 and 78), Newberry, S. C.
+  Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, May 27, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  MOM LOUISA COLLIER
+  Ex-Slave, 78 years.
+
+
+"I born en raise up dere in Colonel Durant yard en I in my 78th year
+now. Dat seem lak I ole, don' it? Coase Colonel Durant hab plenty udder
+colored peoples 'sides us, but dey ne'er lib dere in de yard lak we. Dey
+lib up in de quarters on de plantation. My pappy name Ben Thompson en he
+hadder stay dere close to de big house cause he wus de Colonel driver.
+De Colonel hab uh big ole carriage wha' to ride in den. It hab uh little
+seat in de front fa my pappy to set in en den it hab two seat 'hind de
+driver whey de Colonel en he family is ride. I kin see dat carriage jes
+uz good right now dat my white folks hab to carry em whey dey is wanna
+go."
+
+"Den my mammy come from de udder side uv Pee Dee en she name, Lidia
+Bass. She was de servant 'round de yard dere en dat count fa we to ne'er
+stay in de quarters wid de udder colored peoples 'fore freedom declare.
+I ne'er hadder do no work long uz I lib dere in de yard cause I ain'
+been but five year ole when freedom declare. My grandmammy lib right
+dere close us en Colonel Durant hab she jes to look a'ter aw de
+plantation chillun when dey parents wuz workin'. Aw uv de plantation
+peoples 'ud take dey chillun dere fa my grandmammy to nu'se."
+
+"I 'member one day dere come uh crowd uv peoples dere dat dey tell us
+chillun wuz de Yankees. Dey come right dere t'rough de Colonel yard en
+when I see em, I wuz 'fraid uv em. I run en hide under my grandmammy
+bed. Don' know wha' dey say cause I ain' ge' close 'nough to hear nuthin
+wha' dey talk 'bout. De white folks hadder herry (hurry) en put t'ings
+in pots en bury em or hide em somewhey when dey hear dat de Yankees wus
+comin' cause dey scare dem Yankees might take dey t'ings lak dey is
+carry 'way udder folks t'ings. I hear em say dey ne'er take nuthin from
+de Colonel but some uv he wood."
+
+"My white folks was well-off peoples en dey ain' ne'er use no harsh
+treatment on dey plantation peoples. De Colonel own aw dis land 'bout
+here den en he see dat he overseer on de plantation provide plenty uv
+eve't'ing us need aw de time. I hear tell 'bout some uv de white folks
+'ud beat dey colored peoples mos' to death, but I ain' ne'er see none uv
+dat no whey. I is 'member when dey'ud sell some uv de colored peoples
+way offen to annuder plantation somewhey. Jes been bid em offen jes lak
+dey wuz cattle. Some uv de time dey'ud sell uh man wife 'way en den he
+hadder ge' annuder wife."
+
+"A'ter freedom declare, we ne'er lib dere at de big house no more. Move
+in de colored settlement en den we ain' eat at de big house no more
+neither. Dey le' us hab uh garden uv we own den en raise us own chicken
+en aw dat. I 'member de Colonel gi'e us so mucha t'ing eve'y week en it
+hadder las' us from one Saturday to de next. My mammy 'ud go to de
+Colonel barn eve'y week en ge' she portion uv meal en meat. Dat de way
+dey pay de hand fa dey work den. Ne'er gi'e em no money den."
+
+"Peoples wha' lib on Colonel Durant plantation ain' know nuthin but to
+lib on de fat uv de land. Dey hab plenty cows den en dey gi'e us plenty
+uv milk eve'y day. I 'member we chillun use'er take we tin cup en go up
+to de big house en ge' us milk to drink en den some uv de cows 'ud be so
+gentle lak dat we chillun is follow em right down side de path. Den when
+dere ne'er wuz nobody lak de Colonel overseer 'bout to see us, we is
+ketch de cow en ge' some more milk. I al'ays'ud lub to drink me milk dat
+way. We is eat plenty green peas en 'tatoes en fish in dem days too en
+dey is use 'tatoe pie right smart den."
+
+"Aw de colored peoples on Colonel Durant plantation hab good bed wha' to
+sleep on en good clothes to put on dey back. Coase we ne'er hab no
+bought fu'niture in dem days, but we hab bedstead wha' dey make right
+dere en benches en some uv de time dey is make wha' dey call 'way back
+chair. Den we is make us own bed outer hay cause de white folks ne'er
+spare de colored peoples no cotton den. Hadder cut de hay in de fall uv
+de year en dry it jes lak dey dries it fa to feed de cattle on. Den dey
+hadder take sack en sew em up togedder en put de hay in dese. Dey sleep
+right smart in dem days. Don' mucha people sleep on straw bed dese day
+en time en dey don' dress lak dey use'er neither. I 'member de long
+dress dey is wear den. Hadder hold em up when dey walk so dey won' tetch
+de floor 'bout em. Den some uv dem is wear wha' dey call leggens. Dey'ud
+gather em 'round de knee en le' em show 'bout de ankle. Dey wuz pretty,
+dat dey wuz. De white folks'ud make de plantation clothes outer calico
+en jeanes cloth en dat time. De jeanes cloth be wha' dey make de boy
+clothes outer. Dey is weave aw dey cloth right dere on de plantation en
+den dey use'er dye de thread en weave aw sorta check outer de different
+color thread. Wha' dey make de dye outer? Dey ge' bark outer de woods en
+boil de color outer it en den dey boil de thread in dat. Dat how dey is
+make dey dye. Ne'er see de peoples hab no hat lak dey hab now neither.
+Aw de colored peoples wear wha' dey call shuck hat den cause dey been
+make outer shuck. Dat aw de kinder hat we is hab."
+
+"Peoples use'er ge' aw kinder useful t'ing outer de woods in dem days
+'way back dere. Ne'er hadder buy no me'icine tall den. Ain' ne'er been
+no better cough cure no whey den de one my ole mammy use'er make fa we
+chillun. She larnt 'bout how it made when she stay 'round de Missus en
+dat how come I know wha' in it. Jes hadder go in de woods en ge' some
+cherry, call dat wild cherry, en cut some uv de wild cherry bark fust
+(first) t'ing. A'ter dat yuh hadder find some uv dese long-leaf pine en
+ge' de bud outer dat. Den yuh hadder go to whey dere some sweet gum grow
+en ge' de top outer dem en ge' some mullen to put wid it. Ain' ne'er no
+cough stand aw dat mix up togedder in no day en time. Dey gi'e dat to de
+peoples fa dat t'ing wha' dey use'er call de grip cough. Den dey use'er
+make uh t'ing dat dey call "bone set" tea. I forge' how dey make it but
+dey gi'e it to de peoples when dey hab de fevers. It been so bitter dat
+it'ud lift yuh up 'fore yuh is ge' it aw down de t'roat. Ain' see no
+fever me'icine lak dat nowadays."
+
+"Yas'um, I 'members when dey hab plenty uv dem cornshucking to one
+annuder barn. De peoples'ud come from aw de plantation 'bout dere. Dem
+corn-shuckings wuz big times, dat dey wuz. Gi'e eve'body aw de
+"hopping-john" dey kin eat. Jes cook it aw in uh big pot dere in de yard
+to de big house. Ain' nuthin ne'er eat no better den dat "hopping-john"
+is eat."
+
+"Den de peoples use'er come from aw de plantation 'bout en hab big
+dancing dere. Dat when I lub to be 'bout. Dey hab uh big fire build up
+outer in de yard en dat wha' dey dance 'round 'bout. Call dat uh torch
+fire. Dey'ud hab fiddle en dey dance wha' dey call de reel dance den. I
+'member I use'er lub to watch dey feet when dat fiddle 'ud ge' to
+playing. I jes crawl right down on me knees dere whey I'ud see dey feet
+jes uh going."
+
+"I ne'er hab mucha schooling 'fore freedom declare cause I been raise up
+on de plantation. Dis child (her daughter) pappy wuz de house boy to de
+big house en he ge' more schooling den I is. De Missus larnt he how to
+read en write she self. A'ter freedom declare, I go to school to uh
+white man up dere to de ole Academy en den I is go to annuder school
+down dere to uh blacksmith shop. I go to uh white man dere too. Ne'er
+hab no colored teacher den cause dey ain' hab 'nough schooling den. Dese
+chillun don' know nuthin 'bout dem times. I tell dese chillun I don'
+know wha' dey wanna run 'bout so mucha cause dere plenty t'ing to see
+dat pass right dere by us house eve'y day. I t'ink dis uh better day en
+time to lib en cause dis uh brighter day now dat we hab."
+
+  Source: Mom Louisa Collier, age 78, colored, Marion, S. C
+             Personal interview, May 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  JOHN COLLINS
+  EX-SLAVE, 85 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+John Collins lives in a two-room frame cottage by the side of US 21,
+just one mile north of the town of Winnsboro, S. C. on the right side of
+the highway and a few hundred yards from the intersection of US 21 and
+US 22. The house is owned by Mr. John Ameen. His son, John, who lives
+with him, is a farm hand in the employ of Mr. John Ameen, and is his
+father's only support.
+
+"They tells me dat I was born in Chester County, just above de line dat
+separates Chester and Fairfield Counties. You know where de 'dark
+corner' is, don't you? Well, part is in Fairfield County and part is in
+Chester County. In dat corner I first see de light of day; 'twas on de
+29th of February, 1852. Though I is eighty-five years old, I's had only
+twenty-one birthdays. I ketches a heap of folks wid dat riddle. They ask
+me: 'How old is you Uncle John?' I say: 'I is had twenty-one birthdays
+and won't have another till 1940. Now figure it out yourself, sir, if
+you is so curious to know my age!' One time a smart aleck, jack-leg,
+Methodist preacher, of my race, come to my house and figured all day on
+dat riddle and never did git de correct answer. He scribbled on all de
+paper in de house and on de back of de calendar leaves. I sure laughed
+at dat preacher. I fears he lacked some of dat good old time 'ligion, de
+way he sweated and scribbled and fussed.
+
+"My daddy was name Steve Chandler. My mammy was called Nancy. I don't
+know whether they was married or not. My daddy was sent to Virginia,
+while de war was gwine on, to build forts and breastworks around
+Petersburg, so they say, and him never come back. I 'members him well.
+He was a tall black man, over six feet high, wid broad shoulders. My
+son, John, look just lak him. Daddy used to play wid mammy just lak she
+was a child. He'd ketch her under de armpits and jump her up mighty nigh
+to de rafters in de little house us lived in.
+
+"My mammy and me was slaves of old Marse Nick Collins. His wife, my
+mistress, was name Miss Nannie. Miss Nannie was just an angel; all de
+slaves loved her. But marster was hard to please, and he used de lash
+often. De slaves whisper his name in fear and terror to de chillun, when
+they want to hush them up. They just say to a crying child: 'Shet up or
+old Nick will ketch you!' Dat child sniffle but shet up pretty quick.
+
+"Marster didn't have many slaves. Best I 'member, dere was about twenty
+men, women, and chillun to work in de field and five house slaves. Dere
+was no good feelin's 'twixt field hands and house servants. De house
+servants put on more airs than de white folks. They got better things to
+eat, too, than de field hands and wore better and cleaner clothes.
+
+"My marster had one son, Wyatt, and two daughters, Nannie and Elizabeth.
+They was all right, so far as I 'member, but being a field hand's child,
+off from de big house, I never got to play wid them any.
+
+"My white folks never cared much about de slaves having 'ligion. They
+went to de Universalist Church down at Feasterville. They said everybody
+was going to be saved, dat dere was no hell. So they thought it was just
+a waste of time telling niggers about de hereafter.
+
+"In them days, way up dere in de 'dark corner', de white folks didn't
+had no schools and couldn't read or write. How could they teach deir
+slaves if they had wanted to?
+
+"De Yankees never come into de 'dark corner'. It was in 1867, dat us
+found out us was free; then we all left. I come down to Feasterville and
+stayed wid Mr. Jonathan Coleman. From dere, I went to Chester. While I
+was living dere, I married Maggie Nesbit. Us had five chillun; they all
+dead, 'cept John. My wife died two months ago.
+
+"I is tired now, and I is sad. I's thinking about Maggie and de days dat
+are gone. Them memories flood over me, and I just want to lay down.
+Maybe I'll see you sometime again. I feel sure I'll see Maggie befo'
+many months and us'll see de sunrise, down here, from de far hebben
+above. Good day. Glad you come to see me, sir!"
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Nov. 29, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"Time is but time, and how is I to know when I was born when everybody
+knows dat dey never had no calendars when I come here. Few it was dat
+ever seed even a Lady's Birthday Almanac. I is 75 years old. I was dat
+last January on de 13th day [~HW: 186~]. I was born in old Union County
+about 4 miles south of Gaffney.
+
+"Marse Mike Montgomery had a place dat reached from town way yonder to
+Broad River whar de Ninety-nine Islands lays. Now, de way de road lays,
+dey counts it twelve miles from Gaffney. When I was a boy it was lots
+further dan dat.
+
+"Never know'd why, but de Red Shirts whipped my pa, Tom Corry. Dey jes'
+come and got him out'n his house. He come back in de house. Chilluns was
+not give no privileges in dem days, so I never axed no questions, kaise
+I was fear'd. Chilluns jes' trots into your business dese days.
+
+"My pa say he was a slave on dem Ninety-nine Islands. All I know is what
+he told me. Mr. Mike Montgomery built lots of boats. Dey carried from 50
+to 60 bales of cotton down at one time. De cotton was carried in de
+fall. De Smith place jined de Montgomery place and dat run into de Nancy
+Corry place. I have forded de river dar lots of times. Broad River is
+shallow, deepest place in it back den was at de mouth of King Creek,
+jes' below Cherokee Falls. It ain't so broad dar.
+
+"Pa was de boatman for Mr. Mike. De boat was big and long, and dey
+always started off early in de morning wid a load of cotton. Old man
+Dick Corry had to stand in de boat jes' behind pa. Dey had two steermen.
+So many rocks in de shallow water dat it kept de steermen busy dodging
+rooks. Dey pushed de boat off de rocks wid long poles. Dey had to work
+away from de rocks. Sometimes dey had to get out in de water and roll
+some rocks from dere path if de water wasn't cold.
+
+"Wharever night caught dem, dar dey stopped and pitched a camp. Dey
+fished and killed wild ducks or birds dat was plentiful den, and cooked
+dem along wid bread and other things fetched from home. On de way from
+Columbia dey had lots of store-bought things to eat. Store-bought things
+was a treat den. Now ducks and things is a treat. Times sho changes
+fast.
+
+"Spring was took up wid farming. Every man, white and black, had a
+family back in dem days. Dat dey did, rich or poor, white or black, all
+raised families. Men farmed and hauled manure and cleaned up de
+plantation lots and fields and grubbed in de spring. Women cooked and
+washed and ironed and spun and kept house and made everybody in de house
+clothes, and made all de bed clothes. Dey stayed home all of de time.
+Men got through work and set down at home wid deir wives and never run
+around. Now all goes. Dat's all dey does dese days is go.
+
+"We had plenty of bread and milk and we raised hogs and killed all kinds
+of wild things like turkey, ducks and birds, and caught fish. Men had
+guns dat dey used every day, and dey hit things, too. Folks kept in
+practice, wid guns and had shooting matches.
+
+"After dey stopped boating, wagons come in. Den things begin to change.
+Dey still is changing. Wagons went to Spartanburg to take cotten. Folks
+never went to Columbia no more. Spartanburg begin to grow and it sho
+still is at it."
+
+  Source: Bouregard Corry (N, 75), Rt. 2, Gaffney, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (11/22/37).
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  CALEB CRAIG
+  EX SLAVE 86 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Caleb Craig lives in a four-room house, with a hall, eight feet wide,
+through the center and a fireplace in each room. He lives with his
+grandson, who looks after him.
+
+"Who I is? I goes by de name of C. C. All de colored people speaks of me
+in dat way. C. C. dis and C. C. dat. I don't 'ject but my real name is
+Caleb Craig. Named after one of de three spies dat de Bible tell 'bout.
+Him give de favorite report and, 'cause him did, God feed him and clothe
+him all de balance of him life and take him into de land of Canaan,
+where him and Joshua have a long happy life. I seen a picture in a book,
+one time, of Joshua and Caleb, one end of a pole on Joshua's shoulder
+and one end on Caleb's shoulder, wid big bunches of grapes a hangin'
+from dat pole. Canaan must to been a powerful fertile land to make
+grapes lak dat.
+
+"Would you believe dat I can't write? Some of them adultery (adult)
+teachers come to my house but it seem a pack of foolishness; too much
+trouble. I just rather put my money in de bank, go dere when I want it,
+set dat C. C. to de check, and git what I want.
+
+"When I born? Christmas Eve, 1851. Where 'bouts? Blackstock, S. C. Don't
+none of us know de day or de place us was born. Us have to take dat on
+faith. You know where de old Bell house, 'bove Blackstock, is? Dere's
+where I come to light. De old stagecoach, 'tween Charlotte and Columbia,
+changed hosses and stop dere but de railroad busted all dat up.
+
+"My mammy name Martha. Marse John soon give us chillun to his daughter,
+Miss Marion. In dat way us separated from our mammy. Her was a mighty
+pretty colored woman and I has visions and dreams of her, in my sleep,
+sometime yet. My sisters would call me Cale but her never did. Her say
+Caleb every time and all de time. Marse John give her to another
+daughter of his, Miss Nancy, de widow Thompson then, but afterwards her
+marry a hoss drover from Kentucky, Marse Jim Jones. I can tell you funny
+things 'bout him if I has time befo' I go.
+
+"Us chillun was carried down to de June place where Miss Marion and her
+husband, Marse Ed P. Mobley live. It was a fine house, built by old Dr.
+June. Marse Ed bought de plantation, for de sake of de fine house, where
+he want to take Miss Marion as a bride.
+
+"Dere was a whole passle of niggers in de quarter, three hundred or
+maybe more. I didn't count them, 'cause I couldn't count up to a hundred
+but I can now. Ten, ten, double ten, forty-five, and fifteen. Don't dat
+make a hundred? Sho' it do.
+
+"Clothes? Too many dere, for to clothe them much. I b'long to de
+shirt-tail brigade 'til I got to be a man. Why I use to plow in my
+shirt-tail! Well, it wasn't so bad in de summer time and us had big
+fires in de winter time, inside and outside de house, whenever us was
+working'. 'Til I was twelve years old I done nothin' but play.
+
+"Money? Hell no! Excuse me, but de question so surprise me, I's caught
+off my guard. Food? Us got farm produce, sich as corn-meal, bacon,
+'lasses, bread, milk, collards, turnips, 'tators, peanuts, and punkins.
+
+"De overseer was Mr. Brown. My marster was much talked 'bout for workin'
+us on Sunday. He was a lordly old fellow, as I 'member, but dere was
+never anything lak plowin' on Sunday, though I do 'member de hands
+workin' 'bout de hay and de fodder.
+
+"Marse Ed, a great fox hunter, kep' a pack of hounds. Sometime they run
+deer. Old Uncle Phil was in charge of de pack. Him had a special dog for
+to tree 'possums in de nighttime and squirrels in de daytime. Believe
+me, I lak 'possum de best. You lak 'possum? Well, I'll git my grandson
+to hunt you one dis comin' October.
+
+"Marse Ed didn't 'low patarollers (patrollers) on de June place. He tell
+them to stay off and they knowed to stay off.
+
+"Slave drovers often come to de June place, just lak mule drovers and
+hog drovers. They buy, sell, and swap niggers, just lak they buy, sell,
+and swap hosses, mules, and hogs.
+
+"Us had preachin' in de quarters on Sunday. Uncle Dick, a old man, was
+de preacher. De funerals was simple and held at night. De grave was dug
+dat day.
+
+"A man dat had a wife off de place, see little peace or happiness. He
+could see de wife once a week, on a pass, and jealousy kep' him
+'stracted de balance of de week, if he love her very much.
+
+"I marry Martha Pickett. Why I marry her? Well, I see so many
+knock-knee, box-ankle, spindly-shank, flat nose chillun, when I was
+growin' up, dat when I come to choose de filly to fold my colts, I picks
+one dat them mistakes wasn't so lakly to appear in. Us have five
+chillun. Lucy marry a Sims and live in Winnsboro, S. C. Maggie marry a
+Wallace and live in Charlotte, N. C. Mary marry a Brice and live in
+Chester, S. C. Jane not married; she live wid her sister, Mag, in
+Charlotte. John lives 'bove White Oak and farms on a large place I own,
+not a scratch of pen against it by de government or a bank.
+
+"I live on 27 acres, just out de town of Winnsboro. I expects no
+pension. My grandchillun come and go, back'ards and fo'ards, and tell me
+'bout cities, and high falutin' things goin' on here and dere. I looks
+them over sometime for to see if I didn't do sumpin' for deir figures,
+in s'lectin' and marryin' Martha, dat's more important to them than de
+land I'll leave them when I die. When Martha die, I marry a widow name
+Eliza but us never generate any chillun. Her dead. Not 'nough spark in
+me to undertake de third trip, though I still is a subject of 'tentions.
+
+"What 'bout Marse Ed and Marse Jim Jones? Well, you see, Marse Jim was
+close wid his money. Marse Ed was a spender. I 'tend Marse Ed to a
+chicken main once. Marse Jim rode up just as Marse Ed was puttin' up
+$300.00 on a pile brass wing rooster, 'ginst a black breasted red war
+hoss rooster, dat de McCarleys was backin'. Marse Ed lost de bet. But
+him never told Marse Jim, dat befo' he rode up, him had won $500.00 from
+them same men. After de main was over, Marse Jim, bein' brudder-in-law
+to Marse Ed, rode home to dinner wid him. After dinner they was smokin'
+deir cigars befo' de parlor fire dat I was 'viving up. Marse Jim lecture
+Marse Ed for throwin' 'way money. Marse Ed stretch out his long legs and
+say: 'Mr. Jones does you 'member dat day us 'tended de circus in Chester
+and as us got to de top of de hill a blind begger held out his cup to us
+and you put in a quarter?' Mr. Jones say he does 'member dat. Marse Ed
+went on: 'Well, Mr. Jones, I had a dream last night. I dream us comin'
+through de Cumberland Mountains wid a drove of mules from Kentucky. You
+was ridin' a piebald hoss, de same one you rode into South Carolina de
+fust time you come here. You had on a faded, frazzled grey shawl, 'bout
+lak de one you had on today. Us was in front, de outriders behind, when
+us got to de gap in de mountains. De drove stampede just as us git in de
+gap. Us was both kilt. You got to heaven befo' I did. When I did git
+dere, you was befo' de High Court. They examine you and turn over de
+leaves of a big book and find very little dere to your credit. At last
+they say, I think it was de 'Postle Peter dat ask de question. Him say:
+'Everything is recorded in dis book. Us can find nothin'. Do you happen
+to 'member anything you did to your credit down dere on earth?' Then you
+stand up wid dat old shawl 'round your shoulders and say: 'Aha! I do
+'member one thing. One day I was in Chester and put a quarter of a
+dollar in a blind man's tin cup.' De 'postle then tell de recording
+angel to see if him could find dat deed. Him turn over de leaves 'til
+him found it on de page. Then de twelve 'postles retire and 'liberate on
+your case. They come back and de judge pass sentence which was: 'The
+sentence of de High Court is, that in view of your great love of money,
+James Jones, it is de sentence of de court dat you be given back de
+quarter you give de blind beggar in Chester and dat you, James Jones, be
+sent immediate on your way to hell.' Then they both laugh over dat and
+Marse Jim got real happy when he find out Marse Ed quit de main wid
+$200.00 to de good."
+
+  Address:
+  Caleb Craig,
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  That part of the suburb of Winnsboro called "Mexico". Just east of the
+  Southern Railway Company and north of Winnsboro Cotton Mills.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  DINAH CUNNINGHAM
+  EX-SLAVE 84 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Dinah Cunningham lives about seven miles west of Ridgeway, S. C., on the
+Hood place about a hundred yards off the old Devil's Race Track road.
+She lives with her daughter and son-in-law and their three children.
+They live in a two-room frame house with a shed room annex. In the
+annex, Dinah and the smaller children sleep. They are kind to Dinah, who
+is feeble and can do no farm labor. Dinah is as helpless about the home
+as a child.
+
+"I's come up here 'bout seventeen miles for to let you see me. 'Spect
+you don't see much in dis old worn out critter. Now does you?
+
+"Well, here I is, and I wants you white folks to help me, 'cause I's
+served you from generation to generation. Wid de help of de Lord and
+trustin' in Jesus de Lamb, I knows I's goin' to git help. When is they
+gwine to start payin' off? I's heard them say how you got to be on de
+roll and signed up befo' de fourth day of July. So here I is!
+
+"I was born de fust day of March, 1853, out from Ridgeway, sunrise side.
+My marster was David Robertson and my mistress name Sally. Her was
+mighty pretty. Her was a Rembert befo' she marry Marse Dave. They had
+one child dat I was de nurse for and her name was Luray. Her marry Marse
+Charlie Ray.
+
+"De onliest whippin' I got was 'bout dat child. I had de baby on de
+floor on a pallet and rolled over on it. Her make a squeal like she was
+much hurt and mistress come in a hurry. After de baby git quiet and go
+to sleep, she said: 'Dinah, I hates to whip you but de Good Book say,
+spare de rod and spoil de child.' Wid dat, she goes out and git a little
+switch off de crepe myrtle bush and come back and took my left hand in
+her left hand, dat had all de rings on de fingers, and us had it 'round
+dat room. I make a big holler as she 'plied dat switch on dese very legs
+dat you sees here today. They is big and fat now and can scarcely wobble
+me 'long but then, they was lean and hard and could carry me 'long like
+a deer in de woods.
+
+"My white folks was no poor white trash, I tells you! Good marse and
+good mistress had heap of slaves and overseers. One overseer name Mr.
+Welch. De buckra folks dat come visitin', use to laugh at de way he put
+grease on his hair, and de way he scraped one foot back'ards on de
+ground or de floor when they shake hands wid him. He never say much, but
+just set in his chair, pull de sides of his mustache and say 'Yas sah'
+and 'No sah', to them dat speak to him. He speak a whole lot though,
+when he git down in de quarters where de slaves live. He wasn't like de
+same man then. He woke everybody at daylight, and sometime he help de
+patrollers to search de houses for to ketch any slaves widout a pass.
+
+"Us had all us need to eat, sich as was good for us. Marse like to see
+his slaves fat and shiny, just like he want to see de carriage hosses
+slick and spanky, when he ride out to preachin' at Ainswell and sometime
+de Episcopal church at Ridgeway. My young mistress jine de Baptist
+church after she marry, and I 'member her havin' a time wid sewin'
+buckshots in de hem of de dress her was baptized in. They done dat, you
+knows, to keep de skirt from floatin' on top of de water. You never have
+thought 'bout dat? Well, just ask any Baptist preacher and he'll tell
+you dat it has been done.
+
+"When de Yankees come, they went through de big house, tore up
+everything, ripped open de feather beds and cotton mattresses, searchin'
+for money and jewels. Then they had us slaves ketch de chickens, flung
+open de smoke-house, take de meat, meal, flour, and put them in a
+four-hoss wagon and went on down to Longtown. Them was scandlous days,
+boss! I hope never to see de likes of them times wid dese old eyes
+again.
+
+"I 'member 'bout de Ku Klux just one time, though I heard 'bout them a
+heap. They come on de Robertson place all dressed up wid sheets and
+false faces, ridin' on hossback, huntin' for a republican and a radical
+nigger, (I forgits his name, been so long) but they didn't find him.
+They sho' was a sight and liked to scared us all to death.
+
+"Was I ever married? Sure I was, I marry Mack Cunningham. Us was jined
+in de holy wedlock by Marse Alex Matherson, a white trial justice. Ask
+him and he'll tell you when it was. I's got some chillun by dat husband.
+There is William at Charlotte, and Rosy at Ridgeway. Rosy, her marry a
+man name Peay. Then there is Millie Gover at Rembert and Lila Brown at
+Smallwood, de station where Marse Charlie Ray and my Mistress Luray was
+killed by a railroad train runnin' into de automobile they was in. Then
+there is my daughter, Delia Belton, at Ridgeway, and John L., a son
+livin' and farmin' at Cedar Creek.
+
+"I b'longs to de Mt. Olivet Church dat you knows 'bout. White folks
+comes there sometime for to hear de singin'. They say us can carry de
+song better than white folks. Well, maybe us does love de Lord just a
+little bit better, and what's in our mouth is in our hearts.
+
+"What you gwine to charge for all dat writin' you got down there? If you
+writes much more maybe I ain't got enough money to pay for it. I got a
+dollar here but if it's more than dat you'll have to wait on me for de
+balance. You say it don't cost nothin'? Well, glory hallelujah for dat!
+I'll just go 'round to de colored restaurant and enjoy myself wid beef
+stew, rice, new potatoes, macaroni and a cup of coffee. I wonder what
+they'll have for dessert. 'Spect it'll be some kind of puddin'. But I'd
+be more pleased if you would take half of this dollar and go get you a
+good dinner, too. I would like to please you dat much!
+
+"May de good Lord be a watch 'tween me and you 'til us meets again."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  LUCY DANIELS
+
+
+"Aunt Lucy is a tall well-built old woman who looks younger than her
+years. She delights in talking, and was glad to tell what she knew about
+the olden times.
+
+"I don't know how old I been when de war end. If I been in de world I
+wasn't old enough to pick up nuthin'. Miss Lulie Bowers say I'll be 78
+first of March coming. Miss Lulie was my 'young Missus'. I love Miss
+Lulie, and I thinks she thinks a heap of me--my young Missus, and her
+father, my young Massa. He good to his darkies. He was a rich man--even
+after de war. Miss Lulie say she was de only young lady that could go
+off to college after de war. Miss Lulie help me powerful. She give me
+shoes, and beddin. She and me grow up together. She is in de bed sick
+now. I jes' come from dere. Had de doctor to see her.
+
+"I hear 'em tell 'bout how de soldiers burn 'em out. My mother would
+tell me. My father had gone off to fight. Say dey'd tie de hams an' de
+things on de saddle--and burn de expensive houses. White folks jes' had
+to hide everything. She talk 'bout all de men was gone and de women had
+to pile up, four or five in one house to protect deyselves. My father
+say when dey been 'rough-few-gieing' (refugeeing) de Beaufort Bridge
+been burn down. He say he been so hungry one time he stop to a old
+lady's house and ask her for something to eat. She say she didn't have
+nothing but some dry bread. He take de bread, but he say it been so
+hard, he threw some of it away. But he say he so hungry he wish he
+hadn't throw it away. It was a hard time. Used to have to weave cloth
+and dye thread. Had a loom to weave on and a spinning wheel. My
+grandmother say de Yankees come to her house and take everything, but
+she say one little pullet run out in de weeds and hide and de soldiers
+couldn't find her. She say dat pullet lay and hatch and dat how dey got
+start off again. Dey scramble and dey raise us some how or another.
+
+"I had nine chillun for my first husband and one for my second husband.
+I raise 'em all 'till dey grown; but all dead now 'cept three. My
+husband died last year, I had to work for my chillun. But my second
+husband, he help me wid 'em.
+
+"Dat's all I kin tell you, Miss. I don't remember so much. Chillun in
+those days weren't so bright as dey is now, you know."
+
+  Source: Lucy Daniels, 78 ex-slave, Luray, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Nov. 30, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+  (John Davenport)
+
+
+"My family belonged in slavery time to old Marse Pierce Lake who was de
+Clerk of Court in town, or de Probate Judge. He lived at de old Campbell
+Havird House and I lived dar wid him. My mother belonged to dis Lake
+family and she was named Martha Lake. I don't know who my father was,
+but I was told he was a white man.
+
+"We slaves had good enough quarters to live in, and dey give us plenty
+to eat. De house I live in now is fair, but it has a bad roof. It is my
+wife's chillun's place. My wife had it and left it to dem. She was Ellen
+Gallman, a widow when I married her. Only my blind daughter now live wid
+me. I was married five times and had eighteen chilluns by three wives.
+Each of my wives died befo' I married agin. I didn't separate from any.
+My mother's father lived wid Marse Lake. He and his wife come from
+Virginia.
+
+"I was a boy in slavery and worked and piddled round de house. Sometimes
+I had to work de corn or in de garden. We had plenty to eat. As de old
+saying is, 'We lived at home and boarded at de same place.' We raised
+everything we had to eat, vegetables, hogs, cows and de like. Marster
+had a big garden, but he didn't let his slaves have any garden of deir
+own. We made all our clothes, homespun. My mother used to spin at night
+and work out all day; lots of niggers had to do dat.
+
+"Marse Lake was good to his niggers, but he had to whip dem sometimes,
+when dey was mean. He had six or eight slaves, some on de upper place
+and some on de home place. We got up at daylight and worked all day,
+except for dinner lunch, till it was sundown.
+
+"We never worked at night in de fields. Sometimes Marse would have
+corn-shuckings and de neighbors would come in and help catch up wid
+shucking de corn; den dey would have something to eat. De young folks
+would come, too, and help, and dey would dance and frolic.
+
+"I didn't learn to read and write. Marse never said anything about it.
+My sister learned when some of de white women school teachers boarded at
+Marse Lake's house. De teachers learn't my sister when she was de maid
+of de house, and she could read and write good. Didn't have a school or
+church on de plantation. Atter de war, some of de niggers started a
+brush arbor. Befo' de war, some of us niggers had to come to town wid de
+white folks and go to deir church and set in de gallery.
+
+"De patrollers was sometimes mean. If dey catch'd a nigger away from
+home widout a pass dey sho whipped him, but dey never got any of us. Dey
+come to our house once, but didn't git anybody.
+
+"We had to work all day Saturdays, but not Sundays. Sometimes de fellows
+would slip off and hunt or fish a little on Sunday. Women would do
+washing on Saturday nights, or other nights. We had three days holiday
+when Christmas come, and we had plenty good things to eat, but we had to
+cook it ourselves. De marster would give de chillun little pieces of
+candy.
+
+"Chillun had games like marbles and anti-over. Dey played anti-over by a
+crowd gitting on each side of de house and throwing a ball from one side
+to de other. Whoever got de ball would run around on de other side and
+hit somebody wid it; den he was out of de game. We never believed much
+in ghosts or spooks. I never saw any.
+
+"Some of de folks had remedies for curing, like making hot tea from a
+weed called 'bone-set'. Dat weed grows wild in de woods. It was good
+for chills and fever. De tea is awful bitter. Little bags of asafetida
+was used to hang around de little chillun's necks to ward off fever or
+diptheria.
+
+"We used to call de cows on de plantation like dis: 'co-winch,
+co-winch'. We called de mules like dis: 'co, co', and de hogs and pigs,
+'pig-oo, pig-oo'. We had dogs on de place, too, to hunt wid.
+
+"When freedom come, de marster told us we could go away or stay on. Most
+of us stayed on wid him. Soon atter dis, he got mad at me one day and
+told me to git off de place. I come to town and stayed about two weeks,
+piddling around to git along. I found out whar my mother was--she had
+been sold and sent away. She was in Saluda (Old Town). I went to her and
+stayed two weeks; den she come to Newberry and rented a little cabin on
+Beaver Dam Creek, near Silver Street.
+
+"I remember hearing about de Yankees. When dey come through here dey
+camped in town to keep order and peace. I remember de Ku Klux, too, how
+some of 'em killed niggers. I voted in town on de Republican ticket. I
+am still a Republican. None of my friends held office, but I remember
+some of dem. Old Lee Nance was one, and he was killed by a white man.
+
+"Since de war, de niggers have worked mostly on farms, renting and
+wage-hands. Some of dem have bought little places. Some moved to town
+and do carpenter work, and others jes' piddle around.
+
+"Some of de dances de niggers had was, 'Jump Jim Crow'; one nigger would
+jump up and down while tripping and dancing in de same spot. Some times
+he say, 'Every time I jump, I jump Jim Crow.' We had what was called a
+'Juber' game. He would dance a jig and sing, 'Juber this, Juber that,
+Juber killed a yellow cat'.
+
+"I never thought much about Abraham Lincoln nor Jefferson Davis. Only
+seed de pictures of dem. Reckon dey was all right. Don't know nothing
+about Booker Washington, neither.
+
+"I was 25 years old when I joined de church. I joined because I thought
+I ought to, people preaching Christ and him crucified; and I thought I
+ought to do right. Think everybody ought to join de church and be
+religious.
+
+"What I think of de present generation is hard to say. Dey is not like
+de old people was. De old generation of chilluns could be depended on,
+but de present niggers can't be.
+
+"No, de slaves never expected anything when de war was over, dem in de
+neighborhood didn't. Some say something about gitting 40 acres of land
+and a mule, but we never expected it. None ever got anything, not even
+money from de old marsters or anybody."
+
+  Source: John N. Davenport (N, 89), Newberry, S. C. RFD
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (11/3/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1886-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  June 8, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born, March 10, 1848, on Little River in Newberry county, S. C.
+My master in slavery time was Gilliam Davenport. He was good to his
+slaves, not strict; good to his cattle, and expected his negroes to be
+good to them. But he was quick to resent anything from outsiders who
+crossed his path.
+
+"All that part of the country was good for hunting. The deer, fox, and
+wild turkey have gone; though a few years ago, some men brought some
+foxes there and turned them loose, thinking they would breed, but they
+gradually disappeared. The kildees were many. That was a sign of good
+weather. When they flew high and around in a circle, it was a sign of
+high winds.
+
+"Fishing in the rivers was much done. They fished with hooks on old-time
+canes. They had fish baskets, made of wooden splits, with an opening at
+the end like the wire baskets now used. If they were set anytime, day or
+night, a few hours afterwards would be enough time to catch some fish.
+
+"An old sign was: when the youngest child sweeps up the floor, somebody
+was coming to see you. If a dish-rag was dropped on the floor, somebody
+was coming who would be hungry."
+
+  Source: Moses Davenport (89), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (5/10/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1886-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, July 28, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  CHARLIE DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, 88 Years
+
+
+"I couldn' tell how old I is only as I ask my old Massa son en he tell
+me dat I was born ahead of him cause he had de day put down in he family
+book. I had one of dem slavery bible, but I have a burnin out so many
+times dat it done been burn up. I belong to Mr. George Crawford people.
+Mr. George de one what die up here one of dem other year not far back.
+Dey who been my white folks."
+
+"I can tell you a good deal bout what de people do in slavery time en
+how dey live den, but I can' tell you nothin bout no jump about things.
+My Massa didn' 'low us to study bout none of dem kind of frolickings in
+dat day en time."
+
+"I gwine tell you it just like I experience it in dem days. We chillun
+lived well en had plenty good ration to eat all de time cause my mammy
+cook for she Missus dere to de big house. All she chillun lived in a one
+room house right dere in de white folks yard en eat in de Missus big
+kitchen every day. Dey give my mammy en she chillun just such things as
+de white folks had to eat like biscuit en cake en ham en coffee en
+hominy en butter en all dat kind of eatin. Didn' have no need to worry
+bout nothin 'tall. My Massa had a heap of other colored peoples dere
+besides we, but dey never live dat way. Dere been bout 80 of dem dat
+live up in de quarter just like you see dese people live to de sawmill
+dese days. Dey live mighty near like us, but didn' have no flour bread
+to eat en didn' get no milk en ham neither cause dey eat to dey own
+house. Didn' get nothin from de dairy but old clabber en dey been mighty
+thankful to get dat. Oh, dey had a pretty good house to live in dat was
+furnish wid dey own things dat dey make right dere. Den dey had a garden
+of dey own. My Massa give every one of he plantation family so much of
+land to plant for dey garden en den he give em every Saturday for dey
+time to tend dat garden. You see dey had to work for de white folks all
+de other week day en dey know when dey hear dat cow horn blow, dey had
+to do what de overseer say do. Never couldn' go off de place widout dey
+get a mit (permit) from de overseer neither else dey tore up when dey
+come back. No 'mam, didn' dare to have nothin no time. Didn' 'low you to
+go to school cause if you was to pick up a book, you get bout 100 lashes
+for dat. No 'mam, didn' have no church for de colored peoples in dem
+days. Just had some of dese big oaks pile up one on de other somewhe' in
+de woods on dat whe' we go to church. One of de plantation mens what had
+more learnin den de others was de one what do de preachin dere."
+
+"My Massa wasn' never noways scraggeble to he colored peoples. Didn' cut
+em for every kind of thing, but I is see him beat my stepfather one time
+cause he run away en stay in de woods long time. Oh, he beat him wid a
+switch or a stick or anything like dat he could get hold of."
+
+"Didn' never know nothin bout doing no hard work in us chillun days.
+When I was a boy, I mind de crows out de field. Oh, crows was terrible
+bout pickin up peoples corn in times back dere. You see if dey let de
+crows eat de corn up, dey had to go to de trouble of planting it all
+over again en dat how-come dey send we chillun in de field to mind de
+crows off it. We just holler after em en scare em dat way. Crows was
+mighty worser in dem days den dey is dis day en time."
+
+"I sho remembers when freedom was declare cause I was bout 16 year old
+den. When dem Yankees talk bout comin round, my Massa take all we
+colored boys en all he fast horses en put em back in de woods to de
+canebrake to hide em from de Yankees. It been many a year since den, but
+I recollects dat we was settin dere lookin for de Yankees to get as any
+minute. Wasn' obliged to make no noise neither. Oh, we had big chunk of
+lightwood en cook meat en hoecake en collards right dere in de woods.
+Den my Massa take one of dem oldest plantation boys to de war wid him en
+ain' nobody never hear tell of him no more. He name Willie. O my Lord,
+when dey hear talk bout de Yankees comin, dey take all de pots en de
+kettles en hide em in holes in de fields en dey put dey silver bout some
+tree so dey know whe' dey bury it. Den dey hide de meat en de corn to de
+colored peoples house en when dey hear talk of de Yankees gwine away,
+dey go en get em again. Dem Yankees never destroy nothin bout dere, but
+dey is make my Massa give em a cart of corn en a middlin of meat.
+Yes'um, I look at dem Yankees wid me own eyes. Dey was all dressed up in
+a blue uniform en dey was just as white as you is. Oh, dey said a lot of
+things. Say dey was gwine free de niggers en if it hadn' been for dem,
+we would been slaves till yet. Coase I rather be free den a slave, but
+we never have so much worryations den as people have dese days. When we
+get out of clothes en get sick in dat day en time, we never had to do
+nothin but go to us Massa. Now, we have to look bout every which a way."
+
+"My Massa ask my mother was she gwine live with him any longer after
+freedom was declare en she say she never have no mind to leave dere. We
+live on dere for one year en den we studied to get another place. I
+believes heap of dem white folks died just on account of us get freed.
+Dey never didn' want us to be free."
+
+"I heard a 'oman say somebody had conjured her, but I don' believe in
+none of dat. I knows I got to die some of dese days en dat might come
+before me. I don' bother wid none of dat kind of thing, but I'll tell
+you bout what I has experience. I had two dogs dere en somebody poison
+em cause dey tell me somebody do dat. Oh, I know dey was poison. De
+police say de dog was poison. A 'oman do it dat had chillun what was
+afraid of my dog en dat how-come she poison it. I sho think she done it
+cause it just like dis, anything peoples tell me, I believes it."
+
+"I have seen dem things peoples say is a ghost when I was stayin here to
+Lake View. I plant a garden side de road en one night I hear somethin en
+I look out en dere was a great big black thing in me garden dat was
+makin right for de house. I call me wife en tell her to look yonder. De
+thing was comin right to de house en my wife hurry en light up de lamp.
+I hear de peoples say if you didn' light up de lamp when you see a
+spirit, dat it would sho come in en run you out. I had done paid some
+money on de place but after I see dat thing, I didn' have no mind to
+want it. Had de best garden en chickens dere I ever had, but I never
+bother no worry bout dat. Just pick right up en leave dere to come here
+en I been here ever since. I knows dat been somethin come dere to scare
+me out dat house. Dat ain' been nothin else but a spirit. Ain' been
+nothin else."
+
+  Source: Charlie Davis, age 88, colored, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview, July 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Henry Grant
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  CHARLIE DAVIS'S MUSINGS.
+
+
+Charlie Davis, now seventy-nine years old, was a small boy when the
+slaves were freed. He lives alone in one room on Miller's Alley,
+Columbia, S. C., and is healthy and physically capable of self-support.
+
+"I has been wonderin' what you wanted to talk to dis old nigger 'bout
+since I fust heard you wanted to see me. I takes it to be a honor for a
+white gentleman to desire to have a conversation wid me. Well, here I
+is, and I bet I's one of de blackest niggers you's seen for a season.
+Somehow, I ain't 'shame of my color a-tall. If I forgits I is dark
+complected, all I has to do is to look in a glass and in dere I sho'
+don't see no white man.
+
+"Boss, I is kinda glad I is a black man, 'cause you knows dere ain't
+much expected of them nowhow and dat, by itself, takes a big and heavy
+burden off deir shoulders. De white folks worries too much over dis and
+over dat. They worries 'cause they ain't got no money and, when they
+gits it, they worries agin 'cause they is 'fraid somebody is gwine to
+steal it from them. Yes, sir, they frets and fumes 'cause they can't
+'sociate wid big folks and, when they does go wid them, they is bothered
+'cause they ain't got what de big folks has got.
+
+"It ain't dat way wid most niggers. Nothin' disturbs them much, 'cept a
+empty stomach and a cold place to sleep in. Give them bread to eat and
+fire to warm by, then, hush your mouth; they is sho' safe then! De
+'possum in his hollow, de squirrel in his nest, and de rabbit in his
+bed, is at home. So, de nigger, in a tight house wid a big hot fire, in
+winter, is at home, too.
+
+"Some sort of ease and comfort is 'bout what all people, both white and
+black, is strivin' for in dis world. All of us laks dat somethin' called
+'tentment, in one way or de other. Many white folks and some darkies
+thinks dat a pile of money, a fine house to live in, a 'spensive
+'motorbile, fine clothes, and high 'ciety, is gwine to give them dat.
+But, when they has all dis, they is still huntin' de end of de rainbow a
+little ahead of them.
+
+"Is de black man nervous or is he natchally scary? Well, sir, I is gwine
+to say yes and no to dat. A nigger gits nervous when he hears somethin'
+he don't understand and scared when he sees somethin' he can't make out.
+When he gits sho' 'nough scared, he moves right then, not tomorrow. Lak
+de wild animals of de woods, he ain't 'fraid of de dark, much, if he is
+movin' 'bout, but when he stops, no house is too tight for him, in
+summer or winter. If he sees a strange and curious sight at night, he
+don't have to ask nobody what to do, 'cause he knows dat he has foots.
+It is good-bye wid old clothes, bushes, and fences, when them foots gits
+to 'tendin' to deir business. When you hears a funny and strange noise
+and sees a curious and bad sight, I b'lieves you fust git nervous and
+then dat feelin' grows stronger fas', 'til you git scared. I knows de
+faster I moves, de slower I gits scared.
+
+"From my age now, you can tell dat I was mighty little in slavery time.
+All I knows 'bout them terrible times is what I has heard. I come pretty
+close to them ticklish times, but I can't help from thinkin', even now,
+dat I missed a 'sperience in slavery time dat would be doin' me good to
+dis very day. Dere ain't no doubt dat many a slave learnt good lessons
+dat showed them how to work and stay out of de jail or poorhouse, dat's
+worth a little.
+
+"I has heard my mammy say dat she b'long to de Wyricks dat has a big
+plantation in de northwestern part of Fairfield County and dat my daddy
+b'long to de Graddicks in de northern part of Richland County. Dese two
+plantations was just across de road from each other. Mammy said dat de
+patrollers was as thick as flies 'round dese plantations all de time,
+and my daddy sho' had to slip 'round to see mammy. Sometime they would
+ketch him and whip him good, pass or no pass.
+
+"De patrollers was nothin' but poor white trash, mammy say, and if they
+didn't whip some slaves, every now and then, they would lose deir jobs.
+My mammy and daddy got married after freedom, 'cause they didn't git de
+time for a weddin' befo'. They called deirselves man and wife a long
+time befo' they was really married, and dat is de reason dat I's as old
+as I is now. I reckon they was right, in de fust place, 'cause they
+never did want nobody else 'cept each other, nohow. Here I is, I has
+been married one time and at no time has I ever seen another woman I
+wanted. My wife has been dead a long time and I is still livin' alone.
+All our chillun is scattered 'bout over de world somewhere, and dat
+somewhere is where I don't know. They ain't no help to me now, in my old
+age. But, I reckon they ain't to be blamed much, 'cause they is young,
+full of warm blood and thinks in a different way from de older ones.
+Then, too, I 'spects they thinks deir old daddy would kinda be in deir
+way, and de best thing for them to do is to stay away from me. I don't
+know, it just seems lak de way of de world.
+
+"I come from de Guinea family of niggers, and dat is de reason I is so
+small and black. De Guinea nigger don't know nothin', 'cept hard work,
+and, for him to be so he can keep up wid bigger folks, he has to turn
+'round fas'. You knows dat if you puts a little hog in a pen wid big
+hogs, de little one has got to move 'bout in a hurry amongst de big
+ones, to git 'nough to eat, and de same way wid a little person, they
+sho' has to hustle for what they gits. I has no head for learnin' what's
+in books, and if I had, dere wasn't no schools for to learn dat head,
+when I come 'long. I has made some money, 'long through de years, but
+never knowed how to save it. Now I is so old dat I can't make much, and
+so, I just live somehow, dat's all.
+
+"President Roosevelt has done his best to help de old, poor, and
+forgotten ones of us all, every color and race, while dis 'pression has
+been gwine on in dis country. Is us gwine to git dis new pension what is
+gwine 'bout, or is dat other somebody gwine to think he needs it worser
+than us does? Dat's de question what 'sorbs my mind most, dese days. I
+don't need much, and maybe I don't deserve nothin', but I sho' would lak
+to git hold of dat little dat's 'tended for me by dat man up yonder in
+Washington. (Roosevelt)
+
+"Does I b'lieve in spirits and hants? My answer to dat question is dis:
+'Must my tremblin' spirit fly into a world unknown?' When a person goes
+'way from dis world, dere they is, and dere they is gwine to stay, 'til
+judgment."
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, January 21, 1938
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  HEDDIE DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, 72 Years
+
+
+Lizzie Davis sends word for Heddie Davis to come over to her little
+shack to join in the conversation about old times and Heddie enters the
+room with these words: "Sis, I gwine hug your neck. Sis, I did somethin
+last night dat I oughtn't done en I can' hardly walk dis mornin. Pulled
+off my long drawers last night en never had none to change wid. I can'
+bear to get down en pray or nothin like dat, my knee does ache me so
+bad. I gwine up town yonder en get some oil of wintergreen en put on it.
+Yes'um, dat sho a good thing to strike de pain cause I heard bout dat
+long years ago. Sis, ain' you got no coffee nowhe' dis mornin? God
+knows, de Lord sho gwine bless you, Sis."
+
+"What honey? No'um, I won' here in slavery time. I was just tereckly
+after it. Well, I come here a Lewis, but I inherited de Davis name when
+I married. Old man Peter Lewis was my daddy, en my mother--she was a
+North Carolina woman. Oh, I heard dat man talk bout de old time war so
+much dat I been know what was gwine fly out his mouth time he been have
+a mind to spit it out. My daddy, he belonged to de old man Evans Lewis
+en he been de one his boss pick to carry to de war wid him. Yes'um, he
+stayed up dere to Fort Sumter four years a fightin en hoped shoot dem
+old Yankee robbers. My old man, he had one of dem old guns en I give it
+to his brother Jimmie. He lives way up yonder to de north en he carried
+dat gun wid him just cause I give it to him, he say. He marry my younger
+sister en she grayer den I is. Think dey say dey lives to Rockingham,
+North Carolina. Yes, honey, my daddy was sho in dat wash out dere to
+Fort Sumter. Lord, have mercy, I never hear tell of crabs en shrimps in
+all my life till my daddy come back en tell bout a old woman would be
+gwine down de street, dere to Charleston, cryin, 'Shrimps, more
+shrimps.' But, my Lord, I can' half remember nothin dese days. If I had
+de sense I used to have, I would give de Lord de praise. Honey, he said
+a lot of stuff bout de war. Told a whole chance of somethin. Tell us
+bout de parade en everything, but I is forgetful now en I just can'
+think. De Bible say dat in de course of your life, you will be forgetful
+in dat how I is. Just can' think like I used to. You see, I gwine in 70
+now.
+
+"Oh, I was born dere to Mullins in January on de old man Evans Lewis'
+plantation. Den we moved dere to de Mark Smith place after freedom
+settle here. Dat long high man, dat who been us boss. His wife was name
+Sallie en de place was chock full of hands. No, mam, my white folks
+didn' care bout no quarter on dey plantation. Colored people just
+throwed 'bout all over de place. Oh, I tell you, it was a time cause de
+niggers was dere, plenty of dem. Some of dey house was settin side de
+road, some over in dat corner, some next de big house en so on like dat
+all over de place. Oh, dey lived all right, I reckon. Never didn' hear
+dem say dey got back none. Hear dey live den better den de people lives
+now. Oh, yes'um, I hear my parents say de white folks was good to de
+colored people in slavery time. Didn' hear tell of nobody gettin nothin
+back on one another neither. No, child, didn' never hear tell of nothin
+like dat. Seems like de people don' work dese days like dey used to
+nohow. Well, dey done somethin of everything in dat day en time en work
+bout all de time. Ain' nobody workin much to speak bout dese days cause
+dey walks bout too much, I say. I tell you, when I been a child gwine to
+school, soon as I been get home in de evenin en hit dat door-step, I had
+to strip en put on my everyday clothes en get to work. Had to pick up
+wood en potatoes in de fall or pick cotton. Had to do somethin another
+all de time, but never didn' nobody be obliged to break dey neck en
+hurry en get done in dem days. Chillun just rushes en plays too much
+dese days, I say. No, Lord, I don' want to rush no time. I tellin you,
+when I starts to Heaven, I want to take my time gettin dere.
+
+"Lord, child, I sho hope I gwine to Heaven some of dese days cause old
+Satan been ridin me so tough in dis here world, I ain' see no rest since
+I been know bout I had two feet. My husband, he treat me so mean, if he
+ain' in Heaven, he in de other place, I say. Den all dem chillun, Lord a
+mercy, dey will kill you. I raised all mine by myself en I tell you,
+dey took de grease out of me.
+
+"My daddy, he was a prayin man. Lord knows, he was a prayin man. Seems
+like de old people could beat de young folks a prayin up a stump any
+day. I remember, my daddy come here to de white people church to
+Tabernacle one night en time dem people see him, dey say, 'Uncle Peter,
+de Lord sho send you cause ain' nobody but you can pray dese sinners out
+of hell here tonight.' God knows dat man could sing en pray. Lord, he
+could pray. Oh, darlin child, dat man prayed bout all de time. Prayed
+every mornin en every night en when us would come out de field at 12
+o'clock, us had to hear him pray fore he ever did allow us to eat near a
+morsel. Sis, I remember one day, when dey first started we chillun a
+workin in de field, I come to de house 12 o'clock en I was so hungry, I
+was just a poppin. God knows, people don' serve de Lord like dey used
+to."
+
+"Sis, you wants dat one patch, too. Lord Jesus, dere ain' no limit to
+dis one. Sis, I must be come here on Saturday cause everywhe' I goes, I
+has to work. Hear talk, if you born on a Saturday, you gwine have to
+work hard for what you get all your days. I been doin somethin ever
+since I been big enough to know I somebody. Remember de first thing I
+ever do for a white woman. Ma come home en say, 'Heddie, get up in de
+mornin en wash your face en hands en go up to Miss Rogers en do
+everything just like she say do.' I been know I had to do dat, too,
+cause if I never do it, I know I would been whip from cane to cane.
+When I got dere, I open de gate en look up en dere been de new house en
+dere been de old one settin over dere what dey been usin for de kitchen
+den. I won' thinkin bout nothin 'cept what Miss Rogers was gwine say en
+when I been walk in dat gate, dere a big bulldog flew up in my head. I
+stop en look at him en dat dog jump en knock me windin en grabbed my
+foot in his mouth. Yes'um, de sign dere yet whe' he gnawed me. White
+folks tell me I been do wrong. Say, don' never pay no attention to a dog
+en dey won' bother up wid you. But, honey, dat dog had a blue eye en a
+pink eye. Ain' never see a dog in such a fix since I been born. I tell
+you, if you is crooked, white folks will sho straighten you out. Dat dog
+taught me all I is ever wanted to know. Lord, Miss Mary, I been love dat
+woman. De first time I ever see her, she say, 'You ain' got no dress to
+wear to Sunday School, I gwine give you one.' Yes, mam, Miss Mary dress
+me up en de Lord knows, I ain' never quit givin her de praise yet.
+
+"Yes'um, de Yankees, I hear my daddy talk bout when dey come through old
+Massa's plantation en everything what dey do. Say, dere was a old woman
+dat was de cook to de big house en when dem Yankees come dere dat
+mornin, white folks had her down side de cider press just a whippin her.
+Say, de Yankees took de old woman en dressed her up en hitched up a
+buggy en made her set up in dere. Wouldn' let de white folks touch her
+no more neither. Oh, de place was just took wid dem, he say. What dey
+never destroy, dey carried off wid dem. Oh, Lord a mercy, hear talk dere
+was a swarm of dem en while some of dem was in de house a tearin up,
+dere was a lot of dem in de stables takin de horses out. Yes'um, some
+was doin one thing en some another. En Pa tell bout dey had de most
+sense he ever did see. Hitched up a cart en kept de path right straight
+down in de woods en carted de corn up what de white folks been hide down
+dere in de canebrake. Den some went in de garden en dug up a whole lot
+of dresses en clothes. En dere was a lady in de house sick while all dis
+was gwine on. Oh, dey was de worst people dere ever was, Pa say. Took
+all de hams en shoulders out de smokehouse en like I tell you, what dey
+never carried off, dey made a scaffold en burned it up. Lord, have
+mercy, I hopes I ain' gwine never have to meet no Yankees."
+
+  Source: Heddie Davis, colored, age 72, Marion, S. C.
+                 Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Jan., 1938.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  HENRY DAVIS
+  EX-SLAVE 80 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Henry Davis is an old Negro, a bright mulatto, who lives in a two-room
+frame house on the farm of Mr. Amos E. Davis, about two miles southwest
+of Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+In the house with him, are his wife, Rosa, and his grown children,
+Roosevelt, Utopia, and Rose. They are day laborers on the farm. At this
+period, Henry picks about seventy-five pounds of cotton a day. His
+children average one hundred and fifty pounds each. The four together
+are thus enabled to gather about five hundred and twenty-five pounds per
+day, at the rate of sixty-five cents per hundred. This brings to the
+family, a daily support of $3.41. This is seasonal employment, however;
+and, as they are not a provident household, hard times come to Henry and
+his folks in the winter and early summer.
+
+"I was born on de old Richard Winn plantation dat my master, Dr. W. K.
+Turner, owned and lived on. I was born de year befo' him marry Miss
+Lizzie Lemmon, my mistress in slavery time.
+
+"My mother was name Mary and took de name of Davis, 'cause befo' freedom
+come, her was bought by my master, from Dr. Davis, near Monticello.
+
+"I had a good many marsters and mistresses. Miss Minnie marry Dr.
+Scruggs. Miss Anna marry Mr. Dove. Miss Emma marry Mr. Jason Pope. Marse
+Willie K. marry a Miss Carroll up in York, S. C., and Marse Johnnie
+marry Miss Essie Zealy. My brothers and sisters was Minton, Ike, Martha,
+and Isabella.
+
+"Who I marry and all 'bout it? How come you want to know dat? I 'clare!
+You think dat gwine to loosen me up? Well, I marry de 'Rose of Sharon'
+or I calls her dat when I was sparkin' her, though she was a Lemmon. Her
+was name Rose Lemmon. Lots of times she throw dat in my face, 'Rose of
+Sharon' when things go wrong. Then her git uppish and sniff, 'Rose of
+Sharon, my eye! You treats me lak I was a dogwood rose on de hillside or
+worse than dat, lak I was a Jimson weed or a rag weed.'
+
+"My mammy and us chillun live in de yard not far from de kitchen. My
+mammy do de washin' and ironin'. Us chillun did no work. I ride 'round
+most of de time wid de doctor in his buggy and hold de hoss while he
+visit de patients. Just set up in de buggy and wait 'til him git ready
+to go to another place or go home.
+
+"I 'member de Yankees comin' and searchin' de house, takin' off de cows,
+mules, hosses, and burnin' de gin-house and cotton. They say dat was
+General Sherman's orders. They was 'lowed to leave de dwellin' house
+standin', in case of a doctor or preacher.
+
+"Miss Lizzie had a whole lot of chickens. Her always keep de finest
+pullets. She make pies and chicken salad out of de oldest hens. Dat
+February de Yankees got here, she done save up 'bout fifty pullets dat
+was ready to lay in March. A squad of Yankees make us chillun ketch
+every one and you know how they went 'way wid them pullets? They tie two
+on behind, in de rings of de saddle. Then they tie two pullets together
+and hang them on de saddle pommel, one on each side of de hosses neck.
+Dat throw them flankin' de hosses withers. I 'members now them gallopin'
+off, wid them chickens flutterin' and hollerin' whare, whare, whare,
+whare, whare!
+
+"After slavery time, us live on de Turner place nigh onto thirty years
+and then was de time I go to see Rosa and court and marry her. Her folks
+b'long to de Lemmons and they had stayed on at de Lemmon's place. De
+white folks of both plantations 'courage us to have a big weddin'. Her
+white folks give her a trousseau and mine give me a bedstead, cotton
+mattress, and two feather pillows. Dat was a mighty happy day and a
+mighty happy night for de 'Rose of Sharon'. Her tells young niggers
+'bout it to dis day, and I just sets and smokes my pipe and thinks of
+all de days dat am passed and gone and wonder if de nex' world gwine to
+bring us back to youth and strength to 'joy it, as us did when Rose and
+me was young.
+
+"Does I 'members anything 'bout patrollers? 'Deed, I do! Marster didn't
+'ject to his slaves gwine to see women off de place. I hear him say so,
+and I hear him tell more than once dat if he ever hear de patrollers a
+comin' wid blood hounds, to run to de lot and stick his foots in de mud
+and de dogs wouldn't follow him. Lots of run'ways tried it, I heard, and
+it proved a success and I don't blame them dogs neither."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  JESSE DAVIS
+  EX-SLAVE 85 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Jesse Davis, one of the fast disappearing landmarks of slavery times,
+lives with his wife and son, in one of the ordinary two-room frame
+houses that dot, with painful monotony, the country farms of white
+landowners. The three attempt to carry on a one-horse farm of forty
+acres, about thirty acres in cotton and the remainder in corn. The
+standard of living is low. Jesse is cheerful, his wife optimistic with
+the expression that the Lord will provide, and their son dutiful and
+hopeful of the harvest. Their home is about ten miles southwest of
+Winnsboro, in the Horeb section of Fairfield County.
+
+"Dere is some difficulty 'bout my age. Nigh as I can place it, I was
+born befo' de Civil War. I 'members 'tendin' to and milkin' de cows, and
+keepin' de calf off, drawin' water out de well, and bringin' in wood to
+make fires. I 'spects I's eighty-five, mountin' up in years.
+
+"I lives on Mr. Eber Mason's place wid one of my chillun, a son name
+Mingo. Us all work on de place; run a farm on shares. I can't do much
+work and can't support myself. It's mighty hard to be 'pendent on others
+for your daily rations, even if them others is your own bone and flesh.
+I'd 'preciate sumpin' to help my son and wife carry on. Dats why I wants
+a pension. Do you 'spect God in His mercy will hear de prayer of dis
+feeble old believer? I don't beg people but de Bible give me a right to
+beg God for my daily bread. De Good Book say: 'Take no consarnment 'bout
+your raiment'. You can see from what I's got on, dat me nor nobody else,
+is much consarned 'bout dis raiment.
+
+"My mammy b'long to de Smiths. My master was Dr. Ira Smith. My mistress
+was him wife, Miss Sarah. Deir chillun was: Marse Gad, Marse Jim, and
+Marse Billie. Marse Jim was de baker of dis town all his life, after de
+way of old-time oven-cookin', 'til Boy bread and Claussen bread wagons
+run him out of business. Him is now on de 'lief roll and livin' in de
+old McCreight house, de oldest house in Winnsboro.
+
+"Dere was my young misses, Miss Lizzie and Miss Lennie. My mammy name
+Sarah, just lak old mistress name Sarah. Her b'long to marster and
+mistress but my pappy no b'long to them. Him b'long to de big bugs, de
+Davis family. Him was name Mingo, and after slavery him and all us take
+de name, de secon' name, Davis, and I's here today, Jesse Davis. See how
+dat work out to de name? Good Book again say: 'Good name better than
+riches; sweeter to de ear than honey-comb to de tongue.'
+
+"You is well 'quainted wid Marse Amos Davis, ain't you? Well, his people
+was pappy's people. I had a brudder name Gabriel, tho' they called him
+Gabe. Another one name Chap; he got kilt while clearin' up a new ground.
+Sister Fannie marry a Ashford nigger. Marse Ira, de doctor, have a
+plantation near Jenkinsville, S. C.
+
+"When de Yankees come thru, they come befo' de main army. They gallop
+right up, jump down and say: 'Hold dese hosses! Open dat smoke-house
+door!' They took what they could carry 'way. 'Bout dat time marster rode
+up from a sick call him been 'tendin' to. Course you know him was a
+doctor. They surround him, take his watch, money, and hoss, and ride
+'way.
+
+"De main army come nex' day, Saturday mornin' 'bout 8 o'clock. They
+spread deir tents and stay and camp 'til Monday mornin'. When they leave
+they carry off all de cows, hogs, mules, and hosses. Then they have us
+ketch de chickens, got them all, 'cept one old hen dat run under de
+house, and they didn't wait to git her. Marster have to go 'way up to
+Union County, where him have kin folks, to git sumpin' to eat.
+
+"My marster was not big rich lak de Davises, de Means, and de Harpers,
+but him have all them people come to see him. Him know a heap of things
+dat they 'preciate. De way to dye cloth was one of dese secrets. Marster
+have a madder bed. Him take de roots of dat madder put them in de sun
+just lak you put out pieces of apples and peaches to make dried fruit.
+When them roots git right dry, him have them ground up fine as
+water-ground meal. He put de fine dust in a pot and boil it. When he
+want red cloth, he just drop de cloth in dat pot and it come out all red
+to suit you. Want it blue, him have a indigo patch for dat.
+
+"I never hear anything 'bout alum dese days. Well, de slaves could take
+peach tree leaves and alum and make yellow cloth and old cedar tops and
+copperas and make tan cloth. Walnut stain and copperas and make any
+cloth brown. Sweet-gum bark and copperas and make any cloth a purple
+color. I 'member goin' wid one into de woods to git barks. One day old
+marster come 'cross a slippery elm tree. Him turn and command me to say
+right fast: 'Long, slim, slick saplin' and when I say long, slim, sick
+slaplin', him 'most kill hisself laughin'. You try dat now! You find it
+more harder to say than you think it is. Him give me a piece of dat bark
+to chew and I run at de mouth lak you see a hoss dat been on de range of
+wild clover all night and slobberin' at da bits.
+
+"Yes sah, I b'longs to de church! My wife and son, Mingo, just us three
+in de house and de whole household jined de Morris Creek Baptist Church.
+What's my favorite song? None better than de one dat I'll h'ist right
+now. Go ahead? I thanks you. Listen:
+
+  'Am I born to die
+  To lay dis body down
+  A charge to keep I have
+  A God to glorify.'
+
+"You lak dat? Yes? You is praisin' me too highly I 'spect, but since you
+lak dat one just listen at dis one; maybe you change your mind, 'cause
+I's gwine to h'ist it a wee bit higher and put more of de spiritual in
+it. Ready? Yes? I stand up dis time.
+
+  'All de medicine you may buy
+  All de doctors you may try
+  Ain't gonna save you from de tomb
+  Some day you got to lay down and die.
+  De blood of de Son can only
+  Save you from de doom!
+  Some day you got to lay down and die.'
+
+"You lak dat one? You just ought to hear my wife, Mingo, and Me, singin'
+dat 'round de fire befo' us go to bed.
+
+"Well, I'll toddle 'long now. Good-bye."
+
+
+
+
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, February 4, 1938
+
+  LIZZIE'S 'SPONSIBILITY
+
+
+  I.
+
+The first scene of "Lizzie's 'Sponsibility" is that of the small, one
+room dwelling place of Lizzie Davis, aged colored woman of Marion, S. C.
+A disorderly, ill-lighted, crudely furnished room, saturated with the
+odor of food. Behind the front door stands a gayly colored iron bed,
+over which is thrown a piece of oilcloth to keep the rain from leaking
+on it. In the center of the room are several little quaint home-made
+stools and two broken rockers, while in one corner sits a roughly
+finished kitchen table, the dumping place of all small articles. Still
+in another corner, almost hidden from sight in the darkness, is the dim
+outline of an old trunk gaping open with worn out clothing, possibly the
+gift of some white person. A big fireplace in one side of the wall not
+only furnishes heat for the little room, but also serves as a cooking
+place for Lizzie to prepare her meals. On its hearth sits a large iron
+kettle, spider, and griddle, relics of an earlier day. The room is dimly
+lighted by the fire and from two small doors, together with a few tiny
+streaks that peep through at various cracks in the walls and top of
+house.
+
+It is about 9 o'clock on a cold, drizzly morning in January, 1938. The
+little two room house, in which Lizzie rents one room for herself,
+displays an appearance of extreme coldness and dilapidation, as a
+visitor approaches the doorway on this particular morning. It is with
+somewhat of an effort that the visitor finally reaches the barred door
+of Lizzie's room, after making a skip here and there to keep from
+falling through the broken places in the little porch and at the same
+time trying to dodge the continual dripping of the rain through numerous
+crevices in the porch roof. Within is the sound of little feet scuffling
+about on the floor, the chatter of tiny children mixed with mumblings
+from Lizzie, and the noise of chairs and stools being roughly shoved
+about on the floor.
+
+A rap on the door brings Lizzie, crippled up since she was twelve years
+of age, hobbling to the door. Taking her walking stick, she lifts the
+latch gently and the door opens slightly. A gray head appears through
+the crack of the door and Lizzie, peeping out from above her tiny rim
+spectacles, immediately recognizes her visitor. She offers her usual
+cheerful greeting and begins hastily to push the large wooden tubs from
+the door to make room for her visitor to enter, though it is with
+unusual hesitancy that she invites her guest to come in on this
+occasion.
+
+Lizzie--Come in, Miss Davis. I feelin right smart dis mornin. How you
+been keepin yourself? Miss Davis, I regrets you have to find things so
+nasty up in here dis mornin, but all dis rainy weather got me obliged to
+keep dese old tubs settin all bout de floor here to try en catch up de
+water what drips through dem holes up dere. See, you twist your head up
+dat way en you can tell daylight through all dem cracks. Dat how I know
+when it bright enough to start to stir myself on a mornin.
+
+Yes'um, I tell Miss Heddie here de other day dat I had promise you I was
+gwine study up some of dem old time songs to give you de next time you
+come back. Miss Heddie, she lookin to a right sharp age, I say. Yes'um,
+she been here a time, honey. I tell her to be gettin her dogs together
+cause I was sho gwine point her out to you de next time I see you.
+
+I tell you, Miss Davis, I got a 'sponsibility put on me here to look
+after all dese chillun. Yes'um, it sho a 'sponsibility cause I think
+dere five of dem dere, en it de truth in de Lord sight, dey has me
+settin up so straight to keep a eye on dem dat I can' never settle my
+mind on nothin. Dey won' let me keep nothin clean. Ain' no use to scrub
+none, I say. You see, cripple up like I is, I ain' able to get no work
+off nowhe' en I keeps dem while dey parents work out. Dey mammas have a
+job to cook out en dey brings dem here bout 6 o'clock in de mornin for
+me to see after till dey get home in de afternoon. Cose dey helps me
+along, but it takes what little dey give me to keep dem chillun warm
+cause I has to try en keep a fire gwine, dey be so little. Dere Bertha
+Lee en Joseph, dey start gwine to school dis year en I has to see dey
+gets fix decent en march dem off to school every mornin. Dem other three
+dere, dey name: Possum en June en Alfred. Ain' but just one girl en
+dat--
+
+(Lizzie's attention turns to June, who comes in crying from the back
+yard, where all the children went to play during Lizzie's conversation
+with her visitor).
+
+Lizzie--What de matter wid you, June?
+
+June--Aun' Izzie, Possum knock me wid de ax.
+
+Lizzie--Great King! What a peculiar thing to hit you wid. How-come he to
+do dat?
+
+June--He was bustin up dem stick out dere side de wood pile.
+
+Lizzie--Oh, well, you just go en butt up on de ax. Dat ain' no fault of
+he own den. Clean up dat face en gwine on way from here.
+
+(June, crying to himself, remains seated on the little stool).
+
+Lizzie--Let me see now, Miss Davis, I tryin to get some of dem old time
+songs together to turn for you what you been axin me bout de other time
+you come here. Yes'um, I tryin to blow my dogs--
+
+(Possum enters the room).
+
+Possum--Aun' Izzie, I was bustin up dem splinters dat my daddy brung for
+you to cook wid en June come en set right under de ax.
+
+Lizzie--Um-huh, ain' I tell you so? Whe' de ax, Possum? Fetch it here en
+put it in de corner. Ain' none of you had no business wid dat ax nohow.
+Ain' I tell you to mind your way round dat ax?
+
+(Possum runs back out in the yard).
+
+Lizzie--Like I tellin you, Miss Davis, if de people had a song in de old
+days, dey would put it down on a long strip called a ballad, but honey,
+I been through de hackles en I can' think of nothin like I used to
+could. Is anybody sing dis one for you, Miss Davis? It a old one, too,
+cause I used to hear--
+
+(Alfred comes in to tell his tale).
+
+Alfred--Aun' Izzie, June set on Possum's pile of splinters dat he was
+makin en Possum let de ax fall right on June's head.
+
+Lizzie--Dey is cases, Miss Davis. I tellin you, dese chillun just gets
+everything off my mind. Most makes me forget to eat sometimes. Dere Miss
+Julia Woodberry, poor creature, she been down mighty sick en I ain' been
+able to go en see bout her no time. Don' know what ailin her cause I
+don' gets bout nowhe' much. No, mam, dese chillun don' have no manners
+to go visitin en I can' left dem here widout nobody to mind bout dat dey
+don' run--
+
+Joseph--Aun' Izzie, I ain' gwine wear no coat to school dis mornin.
+
+Lizzie--Boy, is you crazy? What de matter wid you, ain' you know de
+ground been white wid Jack Frost dis mornin? En you clean up dat nose
+fore you get dere to school, too. You ain' say your ma send you here
+widout no pocket rag to wipe your nose wid? You ma, she know better den
+to 'spect me to hunt rags for you. Come here en let me fasten up dat
+coat round de neck. You look like a turkey buzzard wid it gapin open
+dat way. Whe' Bertha Lee? It time both you been in dat road gwine to
+school dere.
+
+(Bertha Lee and Joseph go out the door to leave for school).
+
+Lizzie--Lord a mercy, Miss Davis, my mind just a windin. How dat song
+turn what I had for you?
+
+  One for Paul,
+  En one for Sidas--
+
+Lizzie--Joseph, how-come you ain' tell dese chillun good-bye?
+
+Joseph--Good-bye Possum, good-bye June, good-bye Alfred.
+
+Possum, June, Alfred--Good-bye Joseph.
+
+Lizzie--Is you got dat one now, Miss Davis? What de next? Great
+Jeruselum! Dem chillun done carry dat tune way wid dem. I can' turn dat
+one to save my neck. Just can' come to de turn table as de old man would
+say. (12 o'clock mill whistle blows, time teller for many colored people
+of the community). Lord a mercy, what dat whistle say? It done come 12
+o'clock en dat pot ain' thought bout to kick up none yet. I tell you,
+honey, it sho a 'sponsibility I got put on me here to cook for all dese
+chillun en see dey ration is cook mighty done, too, so as dey won' be
+gwine round gruntin wid dey belly hurtin all de evenin.
+
+(Lizzie begins to stir up the fire to make the pot boil and her visitor
+decides to return later to hear the songs).
+
+  Date, February 7, 1938
+
+
+II
+
+It is a damp, chilly mornin about three weeks later, when Lizzie's
+visitor returns to hear her sing old time songs. June, Bertha Lee, and
+Alfred are playing in the street before the little house.
+
+Visitor--Is Aun' Lizzie at home?
+
+June, Alfred, Bertha Lee--Yes'um, she in dere. She in de house.
+
+Visitor--You children better mind how you run about in all this damp
+weather, it might make you sick.
+
+June--Possum's got de chicken pox.
+
+Alfred--Possum's got de chicken pox.
+
+June--Me sick, too.
+
+Bertha Lee--I got a cold.
+
+Alfred--I sick, too.
+
+Visitor--Poor little Possum. Is he sick much?
+
+Alfred--Yes'um, he stay right in dat room dere. (Room next to Lizzie's
+room with a separate front door).
+
+Bertha Lee--He mamma had de chicken pox first en den Possum, he took
+down wid it.
+
+June--Dere he now! Dere Possum! (Possum appears from around the corner
+of the house with both hands full of cold fish).
+
+(Alfred goes to Lizzie's door to tell her that she has a visitor)
+
+Alfred--Aun' Izzie, somebody out dere wanna see you.
+
+Lizzie--Holy Moses! Who dat out dere? Boy, you ain' tellin me no story,
+is you? Mind you now, you tell me a story en I'll whip de grease out
+you.
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, ain' nobody but Miss Davis out dere.
+
+(Lizzie hobbles to the door on her stick).
+
+Lizzie--How you is, Miss Davis? I ain' much to speak bout dis mornin. I
+tell you de truth, Miss Davis, dese chillun keeps me so worried up dat I
+don' know whe' half my knowin gone, I say. Great Lord a mercy, dere
+Possum out dere in de air now en he been puny, too.
+
+Visitor--The children tell me Possum has the chicken pox.
+
+Lizzie--No'um, he ain' got no chicken pox, Miss Davis. Dey thought he
+had it cause he mamma been ailin dat way, but I don' see nothin de
+matter wid him 'cept what wrong wid he mouth. Possum, stand back dere
+way from Miss Davis, I say. Yes'um, he been sorta puny like dis here
+last week. He mamma must been feed him too much en broke he mouth out
+dat--
+
+June--Miss Davis, I know how to spell my name.
+
+Bertha Lee--I know how to spell my name, too. Me likes to go to school.
+
+Visitor--Oh, I think it is nice to like to go to school. What do you do
+at school?
+
+June--Pull off your hat.
+
+Bertha Lee--Us writes.
+
+Visitor--Lizzie, how about those old time songs you promised to study up
+for me? You ought to have a mind running over with them by this time.
+
+Lizzie--Lord, Lord, honey, I had study up a heap of dem old tunes here
+de other day, but I tellin you de truth, Miss Davis, dese chillun got me
+so crazy till nothin won stick--
+
+(Willie, age 10, comes over to play with the children and begins to
+whistle.).
+
+Lizzie--Willie, ain' you know it ill manners to whistle in anybody
+house? Dere now, it impolite to walk by anybody house whistlin, too. You
+is too big a boy for dat. Ain' gwine stand for you learnin dese chillun
+no such manners for me to beat it out dem. No, boy, mind yourself way
+from here now, I got to hunt up dat tune for Miss Davis. Yes'um, I got
+one of dem old tune poppin now. Let me see--Great Happy! Dat pot done
+gwine out all my sparks. (Lizzie rushes in the house to look after a pot
+that she hears boilin over on the fire).
+
+June--Bertha Lee, de lady don' know whe' us sleeps, do she?
+
+Bertha Lee--Dere us house over dere.
+
+(Bertha Lee gets up to point the house out and June immediately slides
+into her seat on the bench next to the visitor).
+
+Bertha Lee--Move way, June.
+
+June--No, dis place whe' I been.
+
+Bertha Lee--June, go further, I say.
+
+June--No, Bertha Lee, dis whe' I been.
+
+Bertha Lee--No, go further. (June holds his place) I go tell Aun' Izzie
+den.
+
+Visitor--Tell Lizzie I'm waitin to hear that tune she promised to sing.
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, June settin in my place.
+
+Lizzie--Fetch yourself on back out dere now, Bertha Lee, en settle your
+own scrap. Ain' you shame of yourself en you bigger den June, too? Go
+way from here, I say. I ain' got no time to monkey up wid you. I got to
+get dese collards boilin hard, else dey ain' gwine get done time you
+chillun start puffin for your dinner. Go way, I tell you. Miss Davis, I
+comin toreckly.
+
+(Bertha Lee returns to the porch quietly and takes her place on the
+opposite side of the visitor, while June clings to his place).
+
+June--Miss Davis, does you know Mr. Rembert?
+
+Visitor--Is he your father?
+
+Bertha Lee and June--No, he ain' us daddy.
+
+June--Mr. Rembert, he bought me everything I got. He shoe horses. Don'
+you know him now?
+
+Bertha Lee--He bought June's sweater, but dem my overalls he got on.
+
+June--Dem dere pretty buttons you got on you, Miss Davis.
+
+Bertha Lee--Sho is, en dem little chain dere.
+
+June--Me got a sweater just like her coat.
+
+Bertha Lee--Ain' just like it.
+
+June--It most like it.
+
+Bertha Lee--No, it ain' cause dis here wool.
+
+(Lizzie returns to the porch and sits on a little stool near her door).
+
+Lizzie--Lord, Miss Davis, dat tune done left me. Now, de next time dat I
+get a tune in my mind. I gwine sho get somebody to place it for me. It
+de Lord truth, my mind gwine just so wid so much of chillun worryations
+till--
+
+June--Me can sing.
+
+Possum--Aun' Izzie, I ain' got nothin to eat.
+
+(Lizzie returns to her room again to stir up the fire and get Possum
+some bread).
+
+Bertha Lee--Sing den, June.
+
+June--Un-uh, I can'. Aun' Izzie might hear me.
+
+Bertha Lee--I gwine sing den.
+
+June--
+
+  "I sees de lighthouse--amen,
+  I sees de lighthouse--amen,
+  I sees de lighthouse--amen."
+
+(Lizzie and Possum return to porch. Possum has three muffins).
+
+Lizzie--Clean up your nose dere, Alfred. Miss Davis, I ready. Sho got a
+mind to turn dat tune dis----
+
+Alfred--Possum wouldn' fetch me no bread, Aun' Izzie.
+
+Lizzie--Dere dey go again, Miss Davis. No, you can' have none of
+Possum's bread. Gwine on in dere en catch you a piece out your own pan.
+You eat up Possum's bread en den he'll be de one howlin bout he ain' got
+none.
+
+(Alfred goes in the room and comes back with a biscuit).
+
+Lizzie--I pretty certain I ready now, Miss Davis. Let dem all get dey
+belly full en den dey head won' be turnin so sharp. Dat how-come I
+tries--
+
+Possum--Aun' Izzie, Alfred eatin June's bread.
+
+Lizzie--Alfred, look here, boy, you know dat ain' none of your bread.
+You sho gwine get a lickin for dat. (Lizzie slaps him). Your ma, she
+ain' never left nothin but corn hoecake in your pan since you been born
+en you know dat, too. Dem chillun carries me in de clock sometimes, Miss
+Davis. Dis one en dat one callin me en de Lord help me, I forgets what I
+doin--Clean up dat nose dere, boy.
+
+June--My nose clean.
+
+Lizzie--Possum know I talkin to him. Get on in dere en tell Miss Mammie
+to give you a pocket rag, Possum. (Miss Mammie is Possum's aunt who came
+to spend the day with them).
+
+Bertha Lee--
+
+  "Peter Rabbit, Ha! Ha! Ha!
+  Make Your Ears Go, Flop! Flop! Flop!"
+
+Lizzie--I has to ax you to bear wid me, Miss Davis. I sorry you come
+here on a dead shot en ain' gettin no birds. Lord knows, I tryin to get
+my mind--
+
+June--Oo, Aun' Izzie, Joseph been cuttin out Willie's book.
+
+(Lizzie's attention is attracted to Willie, who looks worried about his
+torn book.)
+
+Lizzie--Great mercy, boy, you ought to have a pain in de chest. Look,
+you settin dere wid your bosom wide open. Fasten up your neck dere, I
+say.--Possum, come here, is you do like I tell you? Is you ax Miss
+Mammie for somethin to clean up dat nose wid?
+
+Possum--Yes'um.
+
+Lizzie--Look out now, I'll whip you for tellin a story. Whe' de rag? No,
+you ain' ax her neither. Gwine on en clean up dat nose fore I wear you
+out.
+
+(Possum goes around corner of house).
+
+Lizzie--Help me Lord not to forget it dis time. I sho got dat tune----
+
+June--Aun' Izzie, Aun' Izzie, Possum fall in de tub of water what settin
+under de pump.
+
+(Possum appears from around the corner of the house just at that moment
+drenched and almost frozen).
+
+Lizzie--Great Lord a mercy! Possum, you looks like a drowned possum sho
+enough. Why ain' you do like I tell you to do? You know I don' never
+allow you chillun ramblin round dat pump tub no time. Ain' nobody want
+to drink out no tub you wash your snotty nose in. Fetch yourself in dere
+to de fire en dry yourself fore you is catch a death of cold. Gwine on,
+boy. Don' stand dere en watch me like a frizzle chicken. Dere Mr. John
+Fortune comin now. I gwine tell him to catch Possum en cook him up.
+
+Possum--I gwine run.
+
+Lizzie--You say you gwine run?
+
+Possum--No'um, I ain' say I gwine run.
+
+Lizzie--Mind you now, Possum, you know what I tell you bout a
+story-teller.
+
+Mammie--Miss Lizzie, I just don' believe he know right from wrong.
+
+Lizzie--Well, I gwine learn him den. Ain' nothin I despises worser den a
+story-teller. (Lizzie slaps Possum on the shoulder several times and
+sends him in the house to dry, shivering from both cold and fear.).
+
+Lizzie--Miss Davis, Mr. John Fortune helps me out wonderfully wid dese
+chillun. Say, when dey bad, he gwine cook dem up en eat dem. Yes, mam, I
+tellin de truth, honey, dese chillun keeps me settin here listenin wid
+all my ears en lookin wid all my eyes, but dey is right sorta
+entertainin like. Yes'um, dey got so much of sense till dey done took
+what little I is had.
+
+(Alfred comes running in and leans up on Lizzie).
+
+Lizzie--Clean up dat snotty nose, Alfred. You ought to been name Snotty
+wid your mouth all de time lookin like you ain' hear tell of no pocket
+rag. Move way from dere, June. Don' blow your nose settin side Miss
+Davis.
+
+  Date, February 10, 1938
+
+
+III
+
+It is three days later. Lizzie is sitting on her little porch enjoying
+the warm sunshine of a bright February day. The children have gone just
+across the street to play on the sidewalk and while Lizzie keeps a
+watchful eye on them, she is trying once more to call back to her mind
+some of the old time songs that she used to sing in her early days. Her
+visitor sits on a bench nearby ready to make notes of these old songs as
+she sings them. Lizzie's attention is not only distracted by the
+children at intervals but also by different ones of her friends
+constantly passing along the street in front of the small home.
+
+Lizzie--Lord, Miss Davis, look like everything a hustlin dis mornin.
+Yes'um, dis here Monday mornin en everybody is a bustlin gwine to see
+bout dey business. Seems like everything just gwine on, just gwine on. I
+tell you de truth, Miss Davis, I studied so hard bout dem songs de other
+night, I beg de Massa to show me de light en he hop me to recollect dis
+one for you. See, when you gets to de age I is, you is foolish--
+
+(Joseph runs across the street to tell Lizzie something).
+
+Joseph--Aun' Izzie, Possum teachin June to hit Jerry.
+
+Lizzie--Uh-huh, I gwine sho beat him, too. (Lizzie turns to her visitor)
+Possum, he teachin June to knock dat little one wid de speckle coat on.
+
+Visitor--Is he another child that you are taking care of?
+
+Lizzie--No'um, he grandma raise him en de poor little creature, he don'
+have nobody to play wid. Look like nobody don' care when he come or whe'
+he go. I say, I tries to collect mine up en take care of dem cause it
+dis way, if you don' take time en learn chillun, dey old en dey ain'
+old; dey fool en dey ain' fool. Yes'um, I tryin to drill dem, Miss
+Davis, but it does take time en a little whip, too. Has to punish dem
+right smart sometimes. I tellin you, dem chillun sho a 'sponsibility.
+Dem what put all dem gray hair up dere on my topknot. I tell dis one en
+dat one to set to a certain place till I say to get up en den I'll get
+my studyin on somethin else en de child, he'll be out yonder--
+
+(Heddie Davis, age 72, a neighbor of Lizzies, comes over to join in the
+conversation).
+
+Lizzie--Here come de hoss (horse). Come in, Miss Heddie. Miss Davis
+wants us to sing one of dem old back tunes dis mornin.
+
+Heddie--Well, I is studied up one tune what I been hear de old people
+sing when I wasn' nothin much more den a puppy--Lord a mercy, Miss
+Lizzie, dere dem people comin from de trial. Look, dere dey fetchin dat
+girl to Dr. Graham now. En my Lord, got de poor child's head all wrapped
+up dat way. Dat man, he ought to have he head plucked. He know better
+den to cut dat child so close de senses. Don' know what de matter wid de
+people nohow.
+
+Lizzie--Ain' nothin but de devil, Miss--
+
+(Boy, about 8 years old, comes across the street and hands Lizzie a
+bundle).
+
+Pickle--Miss Lizzie, ma say dere your sewin.
+
+Lizzie--Thank you, son, thank you a thousand times again. Tell your
+mamma de old hen a scratchin bout out dere in de yard now huntin de nest
+en ain' gwine be no long time fore I can be catchin her a chicken to put
+in de pot. Yes, Lord, I got to start savin dem egg dis very day for de
+settin. (Lizzie turns to her visitor on the porch and continues her
+conversation). Miss Rosa, she does do all my sewin for me en I generally
+gives her eggs for her kindness. I sorry dere so much of huntin egg de
+same day.
+
+(Little boy, Pickle, looks disappointed and continues to hang around).
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, sing somethin.
+
+Lizzie--You want me to sing so bad, sugar, en I ain' know nothin
+neither. Heddie, turn me one.
+
+Heddie--Gwine on en spill dat one yourself what you been tell me bout de
+other mornin en quit your pickin on me.
+
+Lizzie--Well, I tryin to get myself together, but dere so much of
+travelin en so much of chillun, I can' collect--
+
+Alfred--Aun' Izzie, can I go to whe' Jerry gone?
+
+Lizzie--No, boy, you know I ain' got no mind to let you go runnin off
+dat way. (Lizzie calls to Mammie in the room). Mammie, look dere to de
+clock. I gettin in a fidget to get some of dese chillun way from here.
+
+(Pickle still hangs around).
+
+Lizzie--Joseph, come here.
+
+Joseph--Un-uh.
+
+Lizzie--Boy, don' you grunt at me dat way. Come here, I say. Go dere in
+de chicken house en hunt dat one egg en give it to Pickle to carry to he
+mamma.--Got to scatter dese chillun way from here--
+
+Joseph--Here de egg, Aun' Izzie.
+
+Lizzie--Fetch it dere to Pickle den. Boy, tell your mamma I sorry I ain'
+had no egg to send her 'cept just dat one nest egg. Tell her, when she
+buss dat egg, she better look right sharp en see is de hen ain' got it
+noways addle like cause--
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, how my nose is?
+
+Lizzie--Look bad. Gwine on in dere en clean your face up. I know you
+ain' gwine to school wid all dem crumbs stuck bout on your mouth.
+Joseph, gwine on in de house dere en put you on some more clothes. Gwine
+on in dere, I say. Don' stand dere on de street en strip.
+
+Heddie--No, boy, don' pull off in no public.
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, I gwine carry my bread to school wid me.
+
+Lizzie--Hunt you a paper den. You can' go dere to school wid no handful
+of bread makin all dem chillun start mouthin round you. Joseph, get me a
+paper to put dis here child's bread in.
+
+Joseph--Here, Bertha Lee. Here de paper.
+
+Lizzie--Lord, Miss Davis, it a time. I tell you de truth, honey, dis
+here 'sponsibility got me tied both hand en foot. Ain' no rest nowhe'. I
+hates it you come here en ain' gettin nothin what you been aimin to
+catch. I gwine be ready toreckly though. Let me get dese chillun in de
+road en dem songs gwine start travelin out my head faster den lightnin--
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, make Joseph come on.
+
+Lizzie--Joseph, get in dat road dere side Bertha Lee. Now, you chillun
+make your tracks dere to school straight as you can go en if you stop
+dere to dat lady house en get a pecan, I gwine whip you hard as I can.
+
+Joseph and Bertha Lee--Good-bye Possum, good-bye June, good-bye Alfred.
+
+Possum, June, Alfred--Good-bye Joseph, good-bye Bertha Lee.
+
+Lizzie--Here dat tune come buzzin now, Miss Davis. Is you got dis one?
+
+
+  Sunday Mornin Band!
+
+  "Oh, my sister,
+  How you walk on de cross?
+  Sunday mornin band!
+  Oh, your feet might slip
+  En your soul get lost.
+  Sunday mornin band!
+  Oh, what band,
+  Oh, what band,
+  Do you belong?
+  What band! What band!
+  Sunday mornin band!"
+
+Heddie--Sis, you is done took de one I been how. I been expectin you was
+comin out wid one of dem old time reels you used to be a singin en a
+jiggin bout all de time.
+
+Lizzie--Oh, I been know a heap of dem reels. Hoped sing dem behind de
+old folks back many a day cause us chillun wasn' never allowed to sing
+reels in dem days. See, old back people was more religious den dey is
+now. Yes, mam, dey been know what spell somethin in dat day en time.
+When dey would speak den, dey meant somethin, I tell you. People does
+just go through de motion dese days en don' have no mind to mean what
+dey talk. No, child, us didn' dar'sen to let us parents hear us sing no
+reels den. What dem old people didn' quarrel out us, dey whip out us. My
+father never wouldn' let we chillun go to no frolics, but us would
+listen from de house en catch what us could. I used to could turn a heap
+of dem reels, too, but he was so tight on us till everything bout left
+me. Lord, Heddie, give me a thought. You is de jiggin hoss. Hope me out,
+Heddie, hope me out.
+
+(Heddie begins song and Lizzie joins in and finishes it).
+
+  "The blackest nigger I ever did see,
+  He come a runnin down from Tennessee,
+  His eye was red en his gum was blue,
+  En God a mighty struck him,
+  En his shirt tail flew.
+  Meet me at de crossroads,
+  For I'm gwine join de band.
+  Um-huh! Um-huh! Um-huh!"
+
+Lizzie--Great Lord a mercy, Miss Davis, dem kind of tune, dem sinful en
+wicked songs, dey what I used to turn fore I been big enough to know
+what been in dem. No, honey, I thank de good Lord to point me way from
+all dat foolishness en wickedness en I ain' gwine back to it neither.
+
+  "Lord, I know dat my time ain' long,
+  Oh, de bells keep a ringin,
+  Somebody is a dying,
+  Lord, I know dat my time ain' long.
+    (Repeat three times)
+  Lord, I know dat my time ain' long,
+  Oh, de hammer keep a knockin,
+  Keep a knockin on somebody coffin,
+  Lord, I know dat my time ain' long."
+    (Repeat three times).
+
+Lizzie--Lord, I sho know my time ain' long. De Lord say de way of de
+righteous prevaileth to eternal life en I know I right, people. Lord, I
+know I right. 'Sponsibility or no 'sponsibility, Lord, I seekin de
+Kingdom.
+
+  Source: Lizzie Davis, colored, 70-80 years, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Marion, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, December 13, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  LIZZIE DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, Age 70 to 80
+
+
+"No, mam, I couldn' exactly tell you how old I is cause my father, he
+been dead over 20 years en when us had a burnin out dere to Georgetown,
+Pa's Bible was destroyed den. Cose I don' remember myself, say, slavery
+time, but I can tell dat what I is hear de olden people talk bout been
+gwine on in dat day en time. No, mam, I want to suggest to you de best I
+can cause I might have to go back up yonder en tell it to be justified
+some of dese days."
+
+"Oh, I been know your father en your grandfather en all of dem. Bless
+mercy, child, I don' want to tell you nothin, but what to please you.
+Lord, I glad to see your face. It look so lovin en pleasin, just so as I
+is always know you. Look like dere not a wave of trouble is ever roll
+'cross your peaceful bosom."
+
+"Now, like I speak to you, I don' know rightly bout my age, but I can
+tell you when dat shake come here, I been a missie girl. Oh, my Lord, I
+been just as proud en crazy in dem days. Wasn' thinkin nothin bout dat
+dese dark days was headin here. Yes, mam, I is always been afflicted
+ever since I been twelve years old, so dey tell me. You see, dat muscle
+right back dere in my foot, it grow crooked just like a hook. De doctor,
+he say dat if dey had kept me movin bout, it wouldn' been grow dat way.
+But my poor old mammy, she die while us was livin down dere to old man
+Foster Brown's plantation en dere won' no other hand gwine trouble dey
+way no time to lift me up. Oh, my mammy, she been name Katie Brown cause
+my parents, dey belonged to de old man Foster Brown in dey slavery day.
+Dat how-come I been raise up a country child dere on Mr. Brown's
+plantation. Another thing, like as you might be a noticin, I ain' never
+been married neither. No, mam, I ain' never been married cause I is
+always been use a stick in walkin in my early days en never didn' nobody
+want me. Yes, mam, I know I every bit of 70 or gwine on 80 years old to
+my mind en I think it a blessin de Lord preserve me dis long to de
+world. Cose I often wonders why de good Massa keep me here en take dem
+what able to work for demselves."
+
+"Yes, honey, wid God harness on me, I come here to dis town a grown
+woman to live en I been livin right here by myself in dis same house
+near bout 20 years. Cose dere a little 12-year-old country girl dat
+stays here wid me while de school be gwine on so as to get some learnin.
+Yes'um, I pays $2.00 every month for dis here room en it ain' worth
+nothin to speak bout. Pap Scott's daughter stay in dat other room over
+dere. No, mam, dere ain' but just dese two rooms to de house. You, see,
+my buildin does leak en I has a big time some of dese days. See here,
+child, I has dis piece of oilcloth cross my bed en when it rains on a
+night, I sleeps in dat chair over dere en lets it drop on de oilcloth.
+Den when it comes a storm, my Lord, dere such a racket! I be settin here
+lookin for dat top up dere to be tumblin down on me de next crack en
+seems like it does give me such a misery in my head. Yes, mam, dat
+misery does strike me every time I hear tell bout dere a darkness in de
+cloud."
+
+"Well, drawed up as I is, I ain' able to get no work worth much to speak
+bout dese days. It dis way, child, don' nobody like to see no old ugly
+crooked up creature like me round bout whe' dey be no time. Cose I sets
+here en does a washin now en den whe' de people gets push up, but don'
+get no regular work. Now, dem people over dere, I does dey washin
+mostly, but dey don' never be noways particular en stylish like en I
+don' have nothin much to worry wid. See, de lady, she don' go bout
+nowhe' much."
+
+"Oh, Lord, dere my stove right dere, I say. Yes, mam, I cooks right here
+in de fireplace all de time. I got dat pot on dere wid some turnips a
+boilin now en it gettin on bout time I be mixin up dat bread, too, fore
+dat child be comin home from school hungry as a louse. I say, I got dis
+here old black iron spider en dis here iron griddle, too, what I does my
+bakin on cause you see, I come from way back yonder. Dem what de olden
+people used to cook on fore stoves ever been come here. Yes, mam, de
+spider got three legs dat it sets on en de griddle, dat what I makes
+dese little thin kind of hoecake on. See, when I wants to bake in de
+spider, I heaps my coals up in a pile dat way so as to set de spider on
+dem en pours de batter in de spider en puts de lid on. Den I rakes me up
+another batch of coals en covers de lid over wid dem. Do dat to make it
+get done on de top. Yes, mam, dat de kind of a spider dat de people
+used to cook dey cake in. Now, when I has a mind to cook some turnips or
+some collards, I makes dis here boil bread. Honey, dat somethin to talk
+bout eatin wid dem turnips. Ain' no trouble to mind it neither. First, I
+just washes my hands right clean like en takes en mixes up my meal en
+water together wid my hand till I gets a right stiff dough. Den I
+pinches off a piece de dough bout big as a goose egg en flattens it out
+wid my hand en drops it in de pot wid de greens. Calls dat boil
+dumplings. I think bout I got a mind dat I gwine cook some of dem in dat
+turnip pot directly, too. No, mam, I don' never eat dinner till it come
+bout time for de little girl to be expectin to be from school. Oh, my
+blessed, dem olden people sho know how to cook in dem days. Never didn'
+hear speak bout de cookin upsettin de people in dat day en time like it
+sets de people in a misery dese days. Dat how-come, I say, I ain' noways
+ailin in de inside cause it be dat I lives de olden way. Yes, child, de
+slavery people sho had de hand to cook. Dere ain' never been nothin cook
+nowhe' dat could satisfy a cravin like dat ash cake dat de people used
+to cook way back dere, I say. Oh, dey would mix up a batter just like
+dey was gwine make a hoecake en wrap it all up in oak leaves or a piece
+of dis here heavy brown paper en lay it in de hot ashes. Den dey would
+rake some more hot ashes all over de top of it. Yes'um, de dampness out
+de hoecake would keep de wrappin wet en when it would get done, de paper
+would peel right off it. I tell you, honey, I mighty glad I been come
+along in dat day en time. Mighty thankful I been a child of de olden
+ways."
+
+"Yes, child, de people what been raise de slavery way, dey been have a
+heap of curious notions en some of dem was good, I say. Yes, mam, dere
+one sign dat I remembers bout en I follows dat up right sharp dese days.
+I sho watches dat closely. Say, somebody have a mouthful of rations en
+sneeze, it a sign of death. I finds dat to be very true to speak bout.
+Yes'um, I notices dat a good one, Miss Davis."
+
+"Den I got another one comin. Always say, when you see bout a dozen
+buzzards moesin (flying) round a house en den dey break off en make a
+straight shoot for a graveyard, dere somebody out dat house gwine be
+bury dere soon. Cose dat what I hear talk bout, but I ain' watched dat
+so much."
+
+"No, mam, dat ain' half de signs what de olden people used to have cause
+dat all what dey know to tell dem what to do en what was gwine happen.
+Dem what was wise, dey followed dem signs closely, too. Yes, you come
+back another time, child, en I'll see can I scratch up a heap of dem
+other sign to tell you. When I gets to talkin to you bout old times, my
+mind, it just gets to wanderin over dem old fields whe' I run bout as a
+little small child en I can' half remember nothin to speak to you bout."
+
+  Source: Lizzie Davis, colored, Marion, S. C.--Age 70 to 80.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, December 21, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  LIZZIE DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, Age ----
+
+
+"My parents, dey was sho raise in de South. Been come up on de old man
+Foster Brown's plantation. Ain' you know whe' Mr. Foster Brown used to
+live? Yes, mam, down dere in dat grove of pecans dat you see settin side
+de road, when you be gwine down next to Centenary. I remember, I hear my
+father tell bout dat his mammy was sold right here to dis courthouse, on
+dat big public square up dere, en say dat de man set her up in de wagon
+en took her to Georgetown wid him. Sold her right dere on de block. Oh,
+I hear dem talkin bout de sellin block plenty times. Pa say, when he see
+dem carry his mammy off from dere, it make he heart swell in his breast.
+
+"Yes'um, I hear my father talk bout how dey would shoot de great big
+bomb guns in slavery time. Seems like, he say dat de shootin fuss been
+come from Fort Sumter. Oh, my Lord, I hear talk dat de people could hear
+dem guns roarin all bout dis here country. I know dat word been true
+cause I hear my parents en de olden people speak bout dat right dere
+fore we chillun. Say, when dey would feel dat rumblin noise, de people
+would be so scared. Didn' know what was gwine happen. Cose I speak bout
+what I catch cause de olden people never didn' allow dey chillun to set
+en hear dem talk no time. No, mam, de olden people was mighty careful of
+de words dey let slip dey lips.
+
+"Oh, we chillun would have de most fun dere ever was romancin (roaming)
+dem woods in dat day en time. I used to think it was de nicest thing dat
+I been know bout to go down in de woods side one of dem shady branch en
+get a cup of right cool water to drink out de stream. I tell you, I
+thought dat was de sweetest water I is ever swallowed. Den we chillun
+used to go out in de woods wid de crowd en get dese big oak leaves en
+hickory leaves en make hats. Would use dese here long pine needles en
+thorns for de pins dat we would pick up somewhe' dere in de woods. En we
+would dress de hats wid all kind of wild flowers en moss dat we been
+find scatter bout in de woods, too. Oh, yes'um, we thought dey was de
+prettiest kind of bonnets. Den we would get some of dese green saplin
+out de woods often times to make us a ridin horse wid en would cut down
+a good size pine another time en make a flyin mare to ride on. Yes, mam,
+dat what we would call it. Well, when we would have a mind to make one
+of dem flyin mare, we chillun would slip a ax to de woods wid us en chop
+down a nice little pine tree, so as dere would be a good big stump left
+in de ground. Den we would chisel de top of de stump down all round de
+edges till we had us a right sharp peg settin up in de middle of de
+stump. After dat was fixed, we would cut us another pole a little bit
+smaller den dat one en bore a hole in de middle of it to make it set
+down on dat peg. Oh, my Lord, one of us chillun would get on dis end en
+dere another one would get on de other end en us chillun would give dem
+a shove dat would send dem flyin round fast as I could say
+mighty-me-a-life. My blessed a mercy, child, it would most bout knock de
+sense out dem what been on dere. Yes, mam, everybody would be crazy to
+ride on de flyin mare. All de neighbor's chillun would gather up en go
+in de woods en jump en shout bout which one turn come to ride next. I
+tellin you, dem was big pleasures us had in dat day en time en dey never
+cost nobody nothin neither."
+
+"Well, Mr. Brown, he was mighty good to his colored people, so I hear my
+parents say. Would allow all his niggers to go to de white people church
+to preachin every Sunday, Cose my father, he was de carriage driver en
+he would have task to drive de white folks to church on a Sunday.
+Yes'um, dem what been belong to Mr. Brown, dey had dey own benches to
+set on right up dere in de gallery to de white people church, but I hear
+talk dat some of dem other white people round bout dere never wouldn'
+let dey colored people see inside dey church no time. Lord, I talk bout
+how de people bless wid privilege to go to church like dey want to in
+dis day en time en don' have de mind to serve de Lord like dey ought to
+no time. Cose dere a man comes here every Sunday mornin in a car en
+takes me out to church. Ain' no kin to me neither. He late sometimes en
+de preacher be bout out wid de sermon, but I goes anyhow en gets all I
+can. Look like de Lord bless me somehow, cripple up as I is, I say."
+
+"De shake! Oh, I remember it well cause I been a grown girl den.
+Everybody thought it was de Jedgment en all de people was runnin out en
+a hollerin. I thought it was de last myself en I livin here to tell de
+people, I was sho scared. I been out to de well bout 12 o'clock de next
+day en I could see de water in de well just a quiverin. Lord, Lord, dat
+water tremble bout four weeks after dat. Such a hollerin en a prayin as
+de people had bout dat shake. No'um I was livin down dere to Tabernacle
+den en dere wasn' none of de houses round us destroyed. No, child, won'
+no harm done nowhe' dat I knows of only as a heap of de people been so
+scared, dey never didn' grow no more."
+
+"Yes'um, I think bout here de other night dat I had make you a promise
+to fetch you up some of dem signs de olden people used to put faith in.
+Dere one sign bout if you hear a dog howl or a cow low round your house
+on a night, it a pretty good sign you gwine lose somebody out dat house.
+I finds dat to be a mighty true sign cause I notices it very closely."
+
+"Den dey used to say, too, if you get up in de mornin feelin in a good
+humor, de devil sho gwine get you fore night fall dat same day. Cose I
+don' pay so much attention to dat. If I get up feelin like singin, I has
+to sing cause it my time to sing, I say."
+
+"Let me see, dere another one of dem omen dat I had shake up in my mind
+to tell you. Say, if you see a ground mole rootin round your house, it
+won' be long fore you gwine move from dat place. But I don' never see
+no ground moles hardly dese days. Don' think dey worries nobody much."
+
+"I recollects, too, way back yonder de people used to say, if you see de
+smoke comin out de chimney en turn down en flatten out on de ground, it
+a sign of rain in a few days."
+
+"Yes, mam, I think bout dis one more. If you dream bout you be travelin
+en come to a old rotten down buildin, it a sign of a old person death.
+Don' say whe' it a man or a woman, but it a sho sign dat a old person
+gwine die."
+
+"Den people what lives in de country believes, if a fox comes round a
+house barkin en a scratchin, it a sign dey gwine lose somebody out dey
+family. Yes'um, de fox just comes right out de woods up to de yard en
+barks. You see, a dog won' never run a fox dat comes bout dem barkin.
+No, mam, when de dog hear dat, he just stands right under de house en
+growls at de fox. I know dat be a true sign cause us tried dat one."
+
+"Now, I got another one of dem thought comin. Yes, my Lord, I hear talk
+dat if you get de broom en sweep your house out fore sunrise, you would
+sweep your friends out right wid de trash. Dat used to be a big sign wid
+de people, too. En it bad luck to take up ashes after de sun go down,
+dey say. Yes, I know bout plenty people won' do dat today."
+
+"Well, honey, seems like when I calls back, de people in a worser fix
+den when I used to get 25 cents a day. Used to could take dat en go to a
+country store en get a decent dress to wear to church. Sell peck of us
+corn en get it in trade. Didn' never pay more den 50 cents for a load of
+wood in dem days en I remembers just as good eggs been sell for 10 cents
+a dozen en 15 cents bout Christmas time. Cose I ain' exactly decided
+what to speak bout de times cause it dis way to my mind. De people, dey
+have a better privilege dis day en time, but dey don' appreciate nothin
+like dey did back in my dark days. Yes, mam, de people was more thankful
+to man en God den dey is dese days. Dat my belief bout de way de world
+turnin, I say."
+
+  Source: Lizzie Davis, colored, age between 70 and 80, Marion,
+          S. C.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1855
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  LOUISA DAVIS
+  EX-SLAVE 106 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"Well, well, well! You knows my white folks on Jackson Creek, up in
+Fairfield! I's mighty glad of dat, and glad to see you. My white folks
+come to see me pretty often, though they lives way up dere. You wants to
+write me up? Well, I'll tell you all I recollect, and what I don't tell
+you, my daughter and de white folks can put in de other 'gredients. Take
+dis armchair and git dat smokin' ash tray; lay it on de window sill by
+you and make yourself comfortable and go ahead."
+
+"I was born in de Catawba River section. My grandpappy was a full blood
+Indian; my pappy a half Indian; my mother, coal black woman. Just who I
+b'long to when a baby? I'll leave dat for de white folks to tell, but
+old Marster Jim Lemon buy us all; pappy, mammy, and three chillun: Jake,
+Sophie, and me. De white folks I fust b'long to refuse to sell 'less
+Marse Jim buy de whole family; dat was clever, wasn't it? Dis old Louisa
+must of come from good stock, all de way 'long from de beginnin', and I
+is sho' proud of dat."
+
+"When he buy us, Marse Jim take us to his place on Little River nigh
+clean cross de county. In de course of time us fell to Marse Jim's son,
+John, and his wife, Miss Mary. I was a grown woman then and nursed their
+fust baby, Marse Robert. I see dat baby grow to be a man and 'lected to
+legislature, and stand up in dat Capitol over yonder cross de river and
+tell them de Law and how they should act, I did. They say I was a pretty
+gal, then, face shiny lak a ginger cake, and hair straight and black as
+a crow, and I ain't so bad to look at now, Marse Willie says."
+
+"My pappy rise to be foreman on de place and was much trusted, but he
+plowed and worked just de same, mammy say maybe harder."
+
+"Then one springtime de flowers git be blooming, de hens to cackling,
+and de guineas to patarocking. Sam come along when I was out in de yard
+wid de baby. He fust talk to de baby, and I asked him if de baby wasn't
+pretty. He say, 'Yes, but not as pretty as you is, Louisa.' I looks at
+Sam, and dat kind of foolishness wind up in a weddin'. De white folks
+allowed us to be married on de back piazza, and Reverend Boggs performed
+de ceremony."
+
+"My husband was a slave of de Sloans and didn't get to see me often as
+he wanted to; and of course, as de housemaid then, dere was times I
+couldn't meet him, clandestine like he want me. Us had some grief over
+dat, but he got a pass twice a week from his marster, Marse Tommie
+Sloan, to come to see me. Bold as Sam git to be, in after years ridin'
+wid a red shirt long side of General Bratton in '76, dat nigger was
+timid as a rabbit wid me when us fust git married. Shucks, let's talk
+'bout somthing else. Sam was a field hand and drive de wagon way to
+Charleston once a year wid cotton, and always bring back something
+pretty for me."
+
+"When de war come on, Sam went wid young Marster Tom Sloan as bodyguard,
+and attended to him, and learned to steal chickens, geese, and turkeys
+for his young marster, just to tell 'bout it. He dead now; and what I
+blames de white folks for, they never would give him a pension, though
+he spend so much of his time and labor in their service. I ain't bearin'
+down on my kind of white folks, for I'd jump wid joy if I could just git
+back into slavery and have de same white folks to serve and be wid them,
+day in and day out."
+
+"Once a week I see de farm hands git rations at de smoke house, but dat
+didn't concern me. I was a housemaid and my mammy run de kitchen, and us
+got de same meals as my marster's folks did."
+
+"Yas sir; I got 'possum. Know how to cook him now. Put him in a pot and
+parboil him, then put him in a oven wid lots of lard or fat-back, and
+then bake him wid yaller yam potatoes, flanked round and round, and then
+wash him down wid locust and persimmon beer followed by a piece of
+pumpkin pie. Dat make de bestest meal I 'members in slavery days."
+
+"Us got fish out of Little River nigh every Saturday, and they went good
+Sunday morning. Us had Saturday evenin's, dat is, de farm hands did, and
+then I got to go to see Sam some Sundays. His folks, de Sloans, give us
+a weddin' dinner on Sunday after us was married, and they sho' did tease
+Sam dat day."
+
+"Like all rich buckra, de Lemons had hogs a plenty, big flock of sheep,
+cotton gin, slaves to card, slaves to spin, and slaves to weave. Us was
+well clothed and fed and 'tended to when sick. They was concerned 'bout
+our soul's salvation. Us went to church, learn de catechism; they was
+Presbyterians, and read de Bible to us. But I went wid Sam after
+freedom. He took de name of Davis, and I jined de Methodist Church and
+was baptized Louisa Davis."
+
+"Patroller, you ask me? 'Spect I do 'member them. Wasn't I a goodlookin'
+woman? Didn't Sam want to see me more than twice a week? Wouldn't he
+risk it widout de pass some time? Sure he did. De patrollers got after
+and run Sam many a time."
+
+"After de war my pappy went to Florida. He look just like a Indian, hair
+and all, bushy head, straight and young lookin' wid no beard. We never
+heard from him since."
+
+"De slaves wash de family clothes on Saturday and then rested after
+doin' dat. Us had a good time Christmas; every slave ketch white folks
+wid a holler, 'Christmas gift, Marster' and they holler it to each
+other. Us all hung our stockin's all 'bout de Big House, and then dere
+would be sumpin' in dere next mornin'. Lord, wasn't them good times!"
+
+"Now how is it dese days? Young triflin' nigger boys and gals lyin'
+'round puffin' cigarets, carryin' whiskey 'round wid them, and gittin'
+in jail on Christmas, grievin' de Lord and their pappies, and all sich
+things. OH! De risin' generation and de future! What is it comin' to? I
+just don't know, but dere is comin' a time to all them."
+
+"I sho' like to dance when I was younger. De fiddlers was Henry Copley
+and Buck Manigault; and if anybody 'round here could make a fiddle ring
+like Buck could, wouldn't surprise me none if my heart wouldn't cry out
+to my legs, 'Fust lady to de right and cheat or swing as you like, and
+on to de right'."
+
+"Stop dat laughin'. De Indian blood in me have held me up over a hundred
+years, and de music might make me young again."
+
+"Oh yes, us had ghost stories, make your hair stand on end, and us put
+iron in de fire when us hear screech owl, and put dream book under bed
+to keep off bad dreams."
+
+"When de yankees come they took off all they couldn't eat or burn, but
+don't let's talk 'bout dat. Maybe if our folks had beat them and git up
+into dere country our folks would of done just like they did. Who
+knows?"
+
+"You see dis new house, de flower pots, de dog out yonder, de cat in de
+sun lyin' in de chair on de porch, de seven tubs under de shed, de two
+big wash pots, you see de pictures hangin' round de wall, de nice beds,
+all dese things is de blessin's of de Lord through President Roosevelt.
+My grandson, Pinckney, is a World War man, and he got in de CCC Camp,
+still in it in North Carolina. When he got his bonus, he come down, and
+say, 'Grandma, you too old to walk, supposin' I git you a automobile?"
+I allow, 'Son, de Indian blood rather make me want a house.' Then us
+laugh. 'Well,' he say, 'Dis money I has and am continuin' to make, I
+wants you and mama to enjoy it.' Then he laugh fit to kill heself. Then
+I say, 'I been dreamin' of a tepee all our own, all my lifetime; buy us
+a lot over in Sugartown in New Brookland, and make a home of happiness
+for your ma, me and you'."
+
+"And dis is de tepee you settin' in today. I feel like he's a young
+warrior, loyal and brave, off in de forests workin' for his chief, Mr.
+Roosevelt, and dat his dreams are 'bout me maybe some night wid de winds
+blowin' over dat three C camp where he is."
+
+
+
+  Project 1885 -1-
+  District #4
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  May 29, 1937
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was a slave of Bill Davis who lived at "Rich Hill", near Indian
+Creek, in Newberry County, S. C. I was born about 1856, I reckon. My
+daddy was Ivasum Davis and my mammy was Rhody Davis. Marse Bill was a
+good master, lived in a big house, give us a good place to live and
+plenty to eat. He hardly ever whipped us, and was never cruel to us. He
+didn't let his overseer whip us, and never hit a man.
+
+"Aw, we had good eats den. Wish I has some of dem old ash-cakes now
+which was cooked in de brick oven or in de ashes in de fireplace. My
+mistress had a big garden, and give us something to eat out of it. We
+used to go hunting, and killed possums, rabbit, squirrels, and birds.
+
+"We had home-made clothes 'till I was big boy. Dey was made from card
+and spin wheels.
+
+"Our work was light; we got up at sun-up at blowing of de horn and
+worked till sundown. Sometimes we worked on Saturday afternoons when we
+had to. On Saturday nights we had frolics--men and women. Some women
+would wash their clothes on Saturday afternoons. Den at night we have
+prayer meetings.
+
+"We had no church on our plantation, not till after freedom, but we
+learned to read and write and spell.
+
+"De padderrolers didn't bother us; our master always give us a pass when
+we go anywhere.
+
+"On Christmas Day master always give big dinners for slaves, and on New
+Year we had a holiday.
+
+"I married Lila Davis at de Baptist Church in Newberry.
+
+"When our slaves got sick we sent for de doctor. Some of de old folks in
+the neighborhood believed in giving root-herb tea or tea made from
+cherry barks or peach leaves.
+
+"When freedom come de master told us we was free and could go but if we
+wanted to stay on with him, we could stay. We stayed with him for two
+years and worked by day wages.
+
+"The Ku Klux was dere. I heard old folks talk about dem. Dey had white
+sheets over their heads and white caps on their heads.
+
+"The Yankees went through our place and stole cattle.
+
+"I thought slavery was all right, 'cause I had a good time. I had a good
+master.
+
+"I joined the church when I was 21 years old because I thought I'd live
+better. I think all ought to join the church."
+
+  Source: Wallace Davis (88), Newberry, S. C.; interviewer: G. Leland
+          Summer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Oct. 15, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES OF EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I live in a little two-room house beyond Helena where I work a little
+patch of land which I rent. I don't own anything. I make a living
+working de land.
+
+"I was born on Indian Creek in Newberry County, S. C. about 1856. My
+mammy was Rhody Davis and my pa was Ivasum Davis. We belonged in slavery
+to Bill Davis. He lived at de place called "Rich Hill". De old house is
+done tore down, but young Riser now lives in de new house on de place.
+
+"Our master was good to us, but whipped us a little sometimes. He would
+not allow his overseer to whip any of us. He give us enough to eat and a
+fair place to live in. We didn't want fer anything. Dey had plenty to
+eat on de farm, and sure had good eatings. Dere was a brick oven which
+could cook good bread and cakes. We had a big garden which de mistress
+looked after, and she had plenty from it which she shared wid de slaves.
+
+"De old spinning wheel was used lots of times and dey made all de
+clothes everybody on de place wore.
+
+"We didn't have no church to go to, but dey sometimes made some slaves
+go to white folks churches where dey set on de back seats. We didn't
+have schools and couldn't learn to read and write till after freedom
+come; den some niggers learned at de brush arbors.
+
+"Befo' freedom de patrollers marched up and down de road but didn't
+bother us. Our master always give us a pass when we went somewhere. On
+Christmas he give us big dinners.
+
+"I married Lilla Davis at de white folks' Baptist church in Newberry.
+
+"When slaves got sick some of dem took tree barks and made teas to
+drink, and some made tea from root herbs. We had doctors, too, but dey
+made lots of deir medicine from de barks and herbs.
+
+"I can't remember much what de Ku Klux did, but heard about dem. Just
+after de war de Yankees marched through our place and stole some cattle
+and run away wid dem. In some places dey burned down de barns and gin
+houses.
+
+"I had a good master and always had plenty to eat, so I thought slavery
+was all right. We didn't have nothing of any kind to worry about.
+
+"I don't know nothing much about Abe Lincoln or Jefferson Davis."
+
+  Source: Wallace Davis (N. 88), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (9/15/37).
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, August 20, 1937
+
+  WILLIAM HENRY DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, 72 Years
+
+
+"I born de first day of March in 1865 cause de white folks raise me
+mostly en dat how-come I know how old I ought to say I is. My father
+belong to de old man Jackie Davis, dat live not so far from Tabernacle,
+en den he fall to he son, Mr. William J. Davis. Dat whe' I was raise. My
+grandfather, old man Caesar, live dere too."
+
+"I never been treated exactly as de other plantation peoples was as it
+just like I tellin you, I be round de white folks mostly. My mamma, she
+do all de cooking to de big house en dere be a division in de Missus
+kitchen for de cook en she chillun to stay in. Sometimes my Massa make
+my mamma feed all de small plantation chillun dere to de kitchen from de
+table. Dey want de chillun to hurry en grow en dat de reason dey give em
+good attention at de house. Dey give us milk en clabber en corn bread to
+eat mostly en give us fritters some of de time. Dat was fried wheat
+bread what some people call pancakes. Used to give me job to mind de
+cows en de calves when dey was put to grazing."
+
+"All de other colored peoples live in de nigger quarter up on de hill.
+Just like de white people house here, de colored people house all be in
+row pretty much off from de big house. Oh, de people was meant to work
+in dat day en time. De white folks teach em en show em what dey look for
+em to do. Den if dey didn' do it like dey tell em do it, dey chastise
+em."
+
+"It just like I tellin you, de people fare wid abundance of everything
+in dem days. Destroy much meat in one month den as de people gets hold
+of in whole year dese days. It was just dis way, everybody know to have
+fence round bout dey plantation den en de hogs could run anywhe'. All de
+field land was fence en de woods was for de run of de stock. Dey mark em
+en some of de time, dey hear tell of stock 10 mile away. Know em by de
+brand."
+
+"Peoples didn' have heap of all kind of things dat dey have dese days,
+but somehow it look like dey have a knack of gettin along better wid
+what dey have den. Didn' have no stoves to cook on in dem days. Cook in
+clay oven en on de fireplace. Make up fire en when it die down, dey put
+tatoes (potatoes) in de oven en let em stay dere all night. My God, won'
+nothin no better den dem oven tatoes was. Some of de time, dey have wire
+in de chimney wid de pots hanging on dat. Folks used to make up a cake
+of corn bread en pat it on de hearth en when de fire burn right low, dey
+cover de cake all up in pile of ashes. When it get done, it be brown
+through de ashes en dey take it out en wash en rub all de ashes off it.
+Den it was ready to eat. Dat what dey call ash cake. Just seem like what
+de peoples used to cook be sweeter eatin den what dey cooks dis day en
+time."
+
+"Oh, I beat rice many a day. Yes'um, beat rice many a day for my
+grandmother en my mamma too. Had a mortar en a pestle dat beat rice
+wid. Dey take big tree en saw log off en set it up just like a tub. Den
+dey hollow it out in de middle en take pestle dat have block on both it
+end en beat rice in dat mortar. Beat it long time en take it out en fan
+it en den put it back. De last time it put back, tear off some shucks en
+put in dere to get de red part of de rice out en make it white. Ain'
+nobody never been born can tell you more bout dem pestles en mortars den
+William Henry Davis know."
+
+"Yes'um, used to go to corn shuckings en rye thrashings en pea
+thrashings plenty times. Oh, dey sing en have music en have big pot
+cookin out in de yard wid plenty rice en fresh meat for everybody. Dere
+be so many people some of de time, dey had to have two or three pots.
+Den dey have dem log rollings to clean up de land en when dey would get
+to rollin dem heavy logs, dey give de men a little drink of whiskey to
+revive em, but dey gage how much dey give em. O Lord, we had tough time
+den. After dey get through wid all de work, dey would eat supper den.
+Give us rice en corn bread en fresh meat en coffee en sweet tatoe pone.
+My Lord, dat sweet tatoe pone was de thing in dem days. Missie, you ain'
+never eat no pone bread? Dey take piece of tin en drive nails through it
+en grate de raw tatoes on dat. Den dey take a little flour en hot water
+en molasses en mix up in dem raw tatoes en bake it in de oven on de
+fireplace. Have lid to oven en put fire under de bottom of it en on de
+top to get it right done. Some of de time, dey put a little ginger in it
+fore it was baked. Cut it in big slices when it get done, but wouldn'
+never eat it till dey know it was cold. Missie, de older I gets de more
+I does sorrow to go back to dem old constructions dat dey used to have."
+
+"Some of de colored peoples have bresh (brush) shelter whe' dey go to
+church in dem days, but all us go to de white folks church. Oh, de
+colored peoples go in ox carts, but us white folks have teams en
+carriage to ride in. I recollects Mr. Davis carriage look sorta like a
+house wid two big horses to pull it. De family would be in de inside en
+have seats whe' dey set facing one another. De driver have seat on de
+outside in de front en on de back of de carriage was de place to set de
+trunks."
+
+"My daddy was de blacksmith for Mr. Jackie Davis en he could make plows
+en hoes en all dem kind of things. He have a circuit dat he go round en
+mend things on other white folks plantations. Some of de time, he bring
+back more den $100.00 to he boss dat he would make. Go all bout in dat
+part of Marion county dat be part of Florence county dose times."
+
+"I hear some peoples say dey knows dere such as ghosts, but I ain' never
+have no mind in dat line. All I know bout is what my mamma used to tell
+us big chillun when she want us to stay home wid de little chillun en
+mind em. Say dere was Raw Head en Bloody Bones in de woods en if us go
+off, de child might set de house on fire. Such as dat was to make us
+stay home when dey was gone."
+
+"It just dis way, I think freedom a good thing for some people while it
+a bad thing for de ones dat don' have a knack to shuffle for dey own
+self. When freedom come, some of de colored people didn' know what
+freedom was en dey just hang around dey white folks en look to dey Massa
+for what dey get right on. Wouldn' get off en make nothin for dey own
+self. Dat how-come I think it better for some not to be free cause so
+much of worryations ain' good for peoples. Colored peoples never had to
+worry bout nothin in slavery time."
+
+  Source: William Henry Davis, age 72, ex-slave, Wahee section
+          of Marion Co., S. C.
+
+  Personal interview, August 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Aug. 24, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"Sunday, Aug. 1, was my 82nd ~HW: 84th?~] birthday; so I was born in
+1853. De very day I come into de world I do not know, but soon my
+marster, Starke Sims, begun to train me. Dr. Bill Sims, Marse Stark's
+son, was a doctor when I was born. A younger son was called Hal. When
+Hal was a boy he said he was gwine off, and when he got to be a man, dat
+is what he done; yes sirree, he got scattered off.
+
+"Dr. Bill had done started to doctoring folks befo' I got into dis
+world. And first thing dat I recollects is how my marster teached me to
+address him. He addressed me as 'Elias, Johnny Elias'. I had to answer,
+'Sirs', and dat 'S' always had to be dar to please de marster. All of
+his slaves had to address him de same way. Sometimes we would answer,
+'Sirs Marster'.
+
+"All de things my marster teached me are still a great help to me. Dis
+younger generation does not have de quality dat we old niggers has,
+because dey refuse to take de teachings of dere parents and de good
+white folks. De main thing dat Marse teached his slaves was
+mannerableness. Dat I holds to dis day; 'specially to de white people. I
+allus tries to be mannerable to dem. Often I looks back on dat, but both
+white and colored is trying to do away wid dem things. Old training is
+de best, and I cannot fergit my manners. Never does raal folks fergit
+dere raising. Dats what shows up de quality in people. I likes quality
+in everything, and as soon as I sees strangers and hears dem talk and
+looks at dere action, I can tell how much quality dey got. Dat I sho
+can. I never is gwine to drap my raising, don't care what de style
+comes to. Dat's jest one thing dat my race and de white race, too, wants
+to do away wid. Dey don't hold up no manners and no ra'al raising.
+
+"De school teachers tells de chilluns to say yes and no to me. Dey tells
+dem to say de same thing to white folks. Den dey teaches de chilluns to
+Mr. and Miss de own race and to call white folks by dere names widout
+any handle to it. Dat ain't gwine to work, and any niggers dat has
+self-respect jest ain't gwine to call no white folks by dere name. If
+you doesn't respect other folks, why den other folks ain't gwine to show
+no respect fer you. Why some of my grand chilluns sets up and says 'yes'
+and 'no' to me 'stead of 'yes sir' and 'no sir'. But I is right here to
+tell you dat my own chilluns don't say 'no' and 'yes' to me. I is
+strived wid dem and dey knows how to answer proper to dere elders and to
+white folks. I ain't got no time fer dese school teachers dat tells de
+pupils to answer in no sech insulting ways as dat. I likes manners and
+widout manners folks ain't quality; don't make no diffuns 'bout what
+color dey is or how far dey is gone in de reading books. Young'uns
+saying 'yes' and 'no' is jest plain ugly. It suits me to meet nice
+folks, and when I finds dat dey ain't got mannerableness about dem, den
+I concludes dat dey jest ain't nice.
+
+"I gwine to dress up tonight and go to preaching at Mt. Zion. Dey done
+already started running meeting dar. I used to preach amongst dem at de
+big meetings, but I is retracting now.
+
+"My old marse low to us, 'You is free now, yes sir, you is sho free
+niggers now. You is gwine out into de world on your own. Let me tell you
+dis: If you be's mannerable you will allus come out more dan conqueror.'
+I was young den, and I did not know what 'more dan conqueror' meant
+den. I is larn't now what it means. Thank God, I does, fer his telling
+me dat. I lays to de fact dat de reason I is never been in jail is dat I
+allus had manners. Young'uns acts biggety and den dey lands right
+straight in de first jail dar is.
+
+"I sho never went to no war, but I worked at de house in de corn field
+a-raising corn fer de war hosses. I been in only two states, North and
+South Carolina. I travels jest according to common sense: lets other
+folks be my guide. I met up wid Indians; dey wanted to claim kin wid me,
+but I wouldn't claim kin wid dem. He tell me bout my high cheeks or
+something; den he low something 'bout my nose being long. Dey close
+thinking people, dem Indians is. Dey don't fergit nothing. He say he see
+I is mixed-up, but I never is knowed jest what he was driving at. I told
+him I was teached from de old generation, but dat dar wasn't narry drop
+of Indian blood in me. Cherokee Creek whar dat old Indian place is. Dey
+has all kinds of things to sell dat dey makes. I ain't no Indian and I
+does not feel dat way, no sir, not narry bit does I feel like I is a
+Indian.
+
+"My mother died when I was a wee baby. Never is had no brothers or
+sisters. She left me wid her marster dat owned her mother, Kissy Sims.
+Marse Starke helped my granny to raise me. Kissy come from Virginia. Her
+Pa let a man buy her and three other chilluns. Marse Starke raised dem
+all up and dats how dey got his name.
+
+"Dis here man standing here by me is Zack Herndon. We is de oldest
+niggers in Cherokee County dat I knows of. De other old ones is all dead
+now. Oh, you knows him, does you Zack?
+
+"Never did so awful much work when I was coming up. Dey was priming me
+and training me. When dey call my name, I allus come. Often I hid myself
+to see de bad niggers whipped. Never had no 'buse in my life. Marse
+didn't 'low nobody to look at his niggers when dey was being whipped,
+kaise he hated to have to let any of dem be 'bused. Marse Starke sho
+never whipped no one dat was good. He never let his overseers 'buse
+nobody neither. I does not 'member much 'bout his overseers. One named a
+Briggs, one a Bishop, one a Coleman and Alley Cook was de last one; I
+'members his name best.
+
+"Marse Starke was a rich man. He had in de Quarter what was know'd as a
+chilluns' house. A nurse stayed in it all de time to care fer all de
+plantation chilluns. My granny 'Kissy' acted as nurse dar some. Aunt
+Peggy and aunt Ciller was two mo'. Ciller was de daughter of a King in
+Africa, but dat story been traveling ever since she got to dese shores,
+and it still a-gwine. All dese helped to nurse me. Dey fed us on milk,
+plenty of it. We had honey, lasses and lots of good things. When I was a
+little bit-a boy I had a big bowl to eat out of. And us chilluns et like
+hogs and got fat. We allus had fine food. My marster give me a biscuit
+sometime from his plate and I wouldn't have tuck 25¢ fer it. He allus
+put butter in it or ham and gravy. He would say, 'Dat's de doctrine, Be
+kind!' Nobody never got no 'borious beating from our master's hands.
+
+"I been toiling here on dis earth fer a long time. De Lawd spared me to
+bring up a big race of chilluns myself. We is awful po' and ain't none
+of my chilluns got things as well as I had when my marster give it to
+me. My daughter and grand-daughter lives wid Mr. Nathan Littlejohn. He
+is rich. I stay in de house wid dem. Dey 'vides wid me dat what dey has.
+But dat ain't much. I has great-great-grand chilluns dat I ain't never
+seed. I have five chilluns living to my knowings. Last time I counted, I
+had 137 grand and great-grand chilluns. So you see I looks into de
+fourth generation of my own family.
+
+"Me and Old man Zack went to a hanging one time. Both of us clamed up
+into a tree so dat we could look down on de transaction from a better
+angle. De man, I means de sheriff, let us go up dar. He let some mo'
+niggers clamb up in de same tree wid us. De man dat was being hung was
+called Alf Walker. He was a mulatto and he had done kil't a preacher, so
+you see dey was hanging him fer his wickedness, sho as you born dey was.
+
+"While me and Zack up in dat tree a-witnessing dat transaction, peers
+like we become mo' acquainted wid one another dan we had ever been since
+us know'd one another.
+
+"Sheriff 'low'd, 'You is got only fifteen minutes to live in. What has
+you got to say?' Alf got up and talked by giving a lecture to folks
+about being lawful citizens. He give a lecture also to young folks who
+he 'low'd dat was not in sech condition as he was. He talking to dem
+'bout obeying de parents and staying at home. Me and Zack exchange
+glances and Zack 'low, 'Alf ain't never stayed at home none since he
+been big enough to tramp over de country and he up dar fixing to git his
+neck broke fer his waryness, and trying to tell us good folks young and
+old how us should act. Now ain't he something to be a-telling us what to
+do.'
+
+"Finally, Alf had done talked his time out and de sheriff 'low, 'Now you
+is only got two minutes, what does you want?'
+
+Alf hollered, 'Mr. Sheriff, lemme shake hands wid somebody.' Sheriff say
+everybody dat wishes to may shake his hand. Me and Zack stayed up in dat
+tree, but some of de niggers went up and shaked hands wid Alf.
+
+"Time out! You could-a heard a pin drap. I could hear my breath
+a-coming. I got scared. Zack looked ra'al ashy. Nobody on de ground
+moved, jest stayed ra'al quiet and still. Noose drapped over de man's
+neck and tightened. Some one moved de block from under his foots. Dat
+jerked him down. Whoop! All dem in de tree fell out 'cept me and Zack,
+dey was so scared. Alf Walker wasn't no mo'. Me and Zack sot up in dat
+tree like two cranks. Us sot dar as if it hadn't tuck no 'fect on us
+a-tall. All de other folks got 'fected. Zack tickled me when he saw me
+studying. He 'low 'you act awful hard-hearted.' I 'low, 'dat man telling
+us how to do jest now, and dar he is hanged. Us still a-setting in dis
+tree, ain't we? We ain't never wanted to see no mo' hangings, is we
+Zack?' Zack 'low dat we ain't.
+
+"Onc't de guide low'd to de President, 'You raises your hat to a
+nigger?' President 'low, 'I ain't gwine to let nobody be mo' polite dan
+I is.' He never let nobody have mo' sense dan he did either. Dat was
+Washington.
+
+"Me and Zack is gwine to tell you how it is. We is old and ain't no need
+fer old folks to try and fool. I is too shame to beg. I wants de
+pension. Is you gwine to tell me 'bout it? Dis de truth, I is took a
+chip fer food. If I could got to school and write fast as I can shake my
+fist, I'd be a-giving out dat pension right fast. I likes character and
+principle. I got a boy turned into 64 years. He got character and
+principle, and he still do what I say. I never put my mouth amongst old
+folks when I was young. Me and Zack often talks over old times."
+
+  Source: Elias Dawkins (84), Rt. 1, Gaffney, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 8/20/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  June 3, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES OF EX-SLAVES
+
+
+Upon learning where an ex-slave lived, the writer walked up to a house
+on Pickenpack street where two old colored men were sitting on the front
+porch. Asked if one of them was named 'Will Dill', the blacker of the
+two motioned to himself and said,
+
+"Come here, come in and have a seat," at the same time touching the
+porch swing beside him.
+
+He acknowledged that he lived in slavery days, "but was a small boy,
+walking and playing around at that time". His master was Zeek Long, who
+lived in Anderson County not far from "Three and Twenty Mile Creek' and
+used to ask him:--what the rooster said, what the cow said, what the pig
+said; and used to get a great deal of amusement out of his kiddish
+replies and imitation of each animal and fowl. From his own calculation,
+he figured he was born in 1862 in the home of his mother who was owned
+by Zeek Long. His father, also, was owned by the same master, but lived
+in another house. He remembers when the Yankees came by and asked for
+something to eat. When they had gotten this, they went to the corn crib,
+which was chock full of corn, and took the corn out, shucked it, and
+gave it to their horses. All the good horses had been hidden in the
+woods and only two or three old poor ones were left in the stables, but
+the Yankees did not take these for they only wanted good horses. He
+remembers seeing the patrollers coming around and checking up on the
+'niggers'. He had an uncle who used to slip off every night and go to
+see some colored girl. He had a path that he followed in going to her
+house.
+
+"One night Uncle Bob, he started to go see his gal, and it was pretty
+late, but he followed his path. There were some paterollers out looking
+for him, and t'rectly they saw him. Uncle Bob lit out running and the
+paterollers started running, too. Here they had it up and down the path.
+Uncle Bob, he knew there was a big ditch crossing the path, but the
+paterollers didn't know it; so when Uncle Bob got to the gully, he
+jumped right over it and run on, but one of the patrollers fell into the
+gully and broke his neck. After dat, Uncle Bob, he stayed in and kept
+quiet, for he knew the paterollers had it in for him."
+
+He asked the writer if he had ever heard a chicken talk. He said that he
+had, and described a scene at the house one day when a preacher was
+there. The chickens and guineas came around the house as usual to get
+their feed, but didn't get it. He "quoted" the rooster as saying; "Has
+the preacher gone yet?" A guinea hen answered, "not yet--not yet".
+
+He said that he often heard turkeys talk. They would ask each other
+questions, and another fowl would answer. He once heard a mule that was
+in the barn, say: "Lord! Lord! All I want is corn and fodder."
+
+Being told by the negro who was sitting beside him, that he did not
+believe animals and fowls could talk, he at once said:
+
+"Sure--roosters and gobblers can talk, one day there was a turkey hen
+and a lots of little turkeys scratching around a certain place on a
+hill, the little turkeys were heard to say, 'Please mam, please mam'. An
+old gobbler standing and strutting near, cried out, 'Get the hell out of
+here'. The turkey hen then moved to another place to feed."
+
+He said that he gets out in his porch early in the mornings and whistles
+to the birds, and that soon a large flock of birds are all around him.
+Offering to demonstrate his ability, he began to whistle in a peculiar
+way. Soon thereafter, two or three English sparrows flew into the yard
+from nearby trees.
+
+"See thar! See thar!" he said, pointing to them.
+
+"When the war was over," he continued, "we stayed on at Marster's
+plantation for some time. I grew up, and was always a fellow who liked
+hard work. I have railroaded, was a tree doctor, helped dig wells and
+did a lot of hard work. The white people was always pleased with my work
+and told me so. I went down a well once to help clean it out. It looked
+like to me that well was caving in above me; so I hollered for them to
+pull me out. When I got out, I told them I wasn't going down no wells
+any more unless somebody threw me in."
+
+He said that he had seen lots of wild turkeys when he was a boy. One day
+when he was going to get some "bacco" for his aunt, he saw a hen and a
+lot of little turkeys--
+
+"I run after the little wild turkeys but I never kotched a one. That old
+mother hen would fly from one limb in a tree to another limb in another
+tree and call them. They was the runningest things I ever saw. I nearly
+run myself to death but I never did get one."
+
+Every now and them, he said, one of the men on the plantation would
+shoot a wild hog and we would have plenty of meat to eat. The hogs ran
+wild in those days, he said.
+
+"I never saw a ghost," he said, "unless it was one night when we boys
+was out with our dogs 'possum hunting. The dogs treed a possum in a
+little scrubby tree. I was always a good climber; so I went up the tree
+to shake the 'possum out. I shook and shook but the 'possum would not
+fall out of the tree. I shook so hard that my hat fell off and I told
+the niggers not to let the dogs tear my hat. That was no skunk in the
+tree, 'cause we couldn't smell anything, but when I looked again at the
+'possum, or whatever it was, it got bigger and bigger. I scrambled down
+the tree right away, nearly falling out of it, but I wanted to get away.
+The dogs acted kinda scared; yet they would run up to the tree and bark.
+One old dog I had did not bark, he just hollered. We left the thing in
+the tree. I don't know what it was, but it warn't no 'possum, for I'd
+shook it out of the tree if it had been."
+
+In further discussing the subject of fowls in talking among themselves,
+he said that he had often noticed a rooster and some hens standing
+around in the shade talking.
+
+"The rooster will say something and the hens will listen; then answer
+him back, 'yes'. One day I heard a turkey hen say, 'we are poor, we are
+poor'. The old turkey gobbler said, 'well, who in the hell can help it.'
+Yes sir, they talk just like we do, but 'taint everybody can understand
+'em."
+
+He said that he had fifteen children by his first wife. He remained
+single for thirteen years after his wife's death, and never had any
+children by his second wife.
+
+"Do you reckon we'll ever get a pension in our old age?" he asked. "It
+seems to me they would give us old fellows something to live on, for we
+can't work. How can we live now-a-days? When a man has done good work
+when he was able, the country ought to take care of him in his old age.
+
+"I was a hand for hard work all my life. I was raised that way; but now,
+that I can't do nothing, it looks like the state ought to take care of
+me.
+
+"My father told me when I was sitting up to a gal and I told him I was
+gwinter marry her, 'Son don't you never cut that woman across the back,
+for as sure as you do, that cut will be against you on Judgement Day."
+
+"When I was laid up with the misery in my side, my feet swelled up and
+busted, and I had a awful hurting in my side and back. People wanted me
+to believe I had been conjured, but I did not believe it, and I told
+them I would eat all the stuff that a conjure man could bring. Anybody
+that believes in conjuring is just a liar. God is the only a person who
+can bring suffering on people. He don't want to do it, but it's because
+we do something He don't want us to when He makes people suffer. It is
+the bugger man that does it."
+
+"Uncle" Will said that his father and mother were married by a
+"jack-leg" preacher who, when told that they wanted to get married, had
+them both to jump backwards and forwards over a broom. He then told them
+that they were man and wife.
+
+  Source: Will Dill, 555 Pickenpack St., Spartanburg, S. C.
+  Interviewer: F. S. DuPre, Spartanburg, Dist. 4 5/19/37
+
+
+
+
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  THOMAS DIXON
+  EX-SLAVE 75 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Tom Dixon, a mulatto, is a superannuated minister of the Gospel. He
+lives in Winnsboro, S. C., at the corner of Moultrie and Crawford
+Streets. He is duly certified and registered as an old age pensioner and
+draws a pension of $8.00 per month from the Welfare Board of South
+Carolina. He is incapable of laborious exercise.
+
+"I was born in 1862, thirteen miles northeast of Columbia, S. C., on the
+border line of Kershaw and Fairfield Counties. My mother was a slave of
+Captain Moultrie Gibbes. My father was white, as you can see. My mother
+was the cook for my white folks; her name was Malinda. She was born a
+slave of Mr. Tillman Lee Dixon of Liberty Hill. After she learned to
+cook, my marster bought her from her master and paid $1,200.00 for her.
+After freedom, us took the name of Dixon.
+
+"My mistress in slavery time was Miss Mary. She was a Clark before she
+married Marse Moultrie. I was nothing but a baby when the war ended and
+freedom come to our race. I lived on my marster's Wateree River
+plantation, with mother, until he sold it and went into the hotel
+business at Union, S. C.
+
+"My mother then went to Columbia, S. C., and I attended Benedict
+College. I became a preacher in 1886, the year of the earthquake. That
+earthquake drove many sinners to their knees, me amongst them; and, when
+I got up, I resolved to be a soldier of the cross, and every since I
+have carried the shield of faith in my left hand and the sword of the
+Word in my right hand.
+
+"The night I was converted, the moon was shining brightly. We was all at
+a revival meeting out from Blythewood, then called Dako, S. C. First, we
+heard a low murmur or rolling sound like distant thunder, immediately
+followed by the swaying of the church and a cracking sound from the
+joists and rafters of the building. The women folks set up a screaming.
+The men folks set up a hollering: 'Oh Lordy! Jesus save me! We believe!
+Come Almighty King!' The preacher tried to quiet us, but we run out the
+church in the moonlight, men and women crying and praying. The preacher,
+Rev. Charlie Moore, continued the services outside and opened the doors
+of the church, and every blessed soul come forward and joined the
+church.
+
+"I married Fannie Irwin, and God blessed us all the days of her life. My
+daughter, Maggie, married a Collins and lives in the Harlem section of
+New York City. My daughter, Sallie, lives also in Harlem, Greenville
+Village. Malinda, named for my mother, lives and works in Columbia, S.
+C.
+
+"On the death of my wife, Fannie, I courted and married the widow Lizzie
+Williams. The house we live in is her own property. She had two children
+when we married, a boy and a girl. The boy got killed at the schoolhouse
+two years ago. The girl is working in Columbia, S. C. I am a
+superannuated minister of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, and
+receive a small sum of money from the denomination, yearly. The amount
+varies in different years. At no time is it sufficient to keep me in
+food and clothing and support.
+
+"I have taken nothing to do with politics all my life, but my race has
+been completely transformed, in that regard, since Mr. Roosevelt has
+been President. Left to a popular vote of the race, Mr. Roosevelt would
+get the solid South, against any other man on any ticket he might run
+on. He is God Almighty's gentleman. By that, I mean he is brave in the
+presence of the blue-bloods, kind in the presence of the common people,
+and gentle to the lowly and despised Negro."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Dec. 1, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  [~HW: (Dorroh~]
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I live wid my daughter in a four-room house which we rents from Doc
+Hunter. He got it in charge. My husband died several years ago.
+
+"My daddy was Harvey Pratt, and he belonged to Marse Bob Pratt in
+Newberry. My mammy was Mary Fair, and she belonged in slavery to marse
+Simeon Fair. When dey married dey had a big wedding. Marse didn't make
+slave women marry men if dey didn't want to. Befo' my mammy and daddy
+married, somebody give a note to take to Mrs. Fair, her mistress.
+Mistress wouldn't tell what was in it, but daddy run every step of de
+way, he was so glad dey would let 'em marry.
+
+"Col. Simeon Fair had a big fish pond on his place down on de branch
+behind his house, and he had a milkhouse, too. (This is where the
+Margaret Hunter Park is).
+
+"My great-grandmother come from Virginia. She was bought by Marse Fair
+from a speculator's drove. Slaves had good places to live in and
+everything to eat. Old Marse sho cared for his slaves. He give 'em
+plenty of clothes and good things to eat. On Sundays dey had to go to de
+white folks' church and he made dem put on new clean clothes dat he give
+'em.
+
+"I was born about two years befo' freedom, and I lost my mammy right
+atter de war. I remember about de Ku Klux and Red Shirts.
+
+"Everything we had was made at home, or on marster's big plantation in
+de country. Marse told his son, Billy, befo' he died to take care of his
+niggers and see dat dey didn't want for nothing.
+
+"Marse made de slaves work all day and sometimes on Saturdays, but he
+never let 'em work at night. Sometimes on de plantation dey had
+corn-shuckings and log-rollings; den dey give de hands good dinners and
+some whiskey to drink.
+
+"One old nigger had a weak back and couldn't work much, so he use to
+play marbles in de yard wid de kids most every day.
+
+"Slaves couldn't go away from de place unless dey had a pass from de
+marse to show de patrollers when dey caught dem out.
+
+"My daddy use to cook at de old Newberry Hotel. He was one of de finest
+cooks in dis part of de country. De hotel was a small wooden frame
+building wid a long front piazza. In de back was a small wooden two-room
+house dat servants lived in. Atter de war, de 'little guard house' stood
+jes' behind where de opera house now is.
+
+"Some of de slaves learned to read and write. Marse didn't keep dem from
+learning if dey wanted to. Niggers used to sing, 'I am born to die'. Dey
+learn't it from Marse Ramage's son, 'Jock' Ramage. He learn't 'em to
+sing it.
+
+"Atter de war, Marse told de niggers dey was free. Most of dem stayed on
+wid him and took his name. Slaves most always took de name of deir
+marsters.
+
+"My mother married at Thomas Pope's place, and he had old man Ned
+Pearson, a nigger who could read and write, to marry 'em. He married
+lots of niggers den. Atter de war many niggers married over agin, 'cause
+dey didn't know if de first marriage was good or not.
+
+"Marse Fair let his niggers have dances and frolics on his plantation,
+and on Saturdays dey danced till 12 o'clock midnight. Sometimes dey
+danced jigs, too, in a circle, jumping up and down. In dese times de
+young folks dance way into Sunday mornings, and nobody to stop 'em, but
+Marse wouldn't let his slaves dance atter 12 o'clock.
+
+"Everybody believed in ghosts. Nobody would pass by a graveyard on a
+dark night, and dese days dey go to cemeteries to do deir mischief, at
+night and not afraid. Doctors used to have home-made medicines. Old Dr.
+Brown made medicine from a root herb to cure rheumatism. He called it
+'rhue'. He lived in what is now called Graveltown. His old house has
+been torn down. He made hot teas from barks for fevers. He made a liquid
+salve to rub on for rheumatism.
+
+"When freedom come most of de slaves stayed on. Some man come here to
+make a speech to de slaves. He spoke in Marse Fair's yard to a big crowd
+of niggers and told dem to stay on and work for wages. When de Yankees
+come through here, dey stole everything dey could git deir hands on. Dey
+went in de house and took food and articles. Marse put guards around his
+house to keep dem out so dey wouldn't steal all de potatoes and flour he
+had for his slaves. Ku Klux went around de country and caught niggers
+and carpetbaggers. De carpetbaggers would hunt up chillun's lands, whose
+daddys was killed and try to take dem. Dat was when Judge Leheigh was
+here, and Capt. Bone was postmaster. Dey was Republicans, but when de
+Democrats got in power dey stopped all dat.
+
+"When I married John Dorroh I had a big wedding. We married at de Harp
+place in Newberry, jes' behind de big house, in a nigger cottage. White
+folks and niggers come. I was known amongst de best white families
+'cause I served as cook for dem. I was married by Rev. J. K. Walls, a
+nigger preacher from Charleston.
+
+"I think slavery ended through de work of Almighty God. My mother always
+said dat was it. My daddy left here and went to Memphis when I was five
+years old. He sent home $40. He was in de army wid Major James Baxter.
+He took care of de guns and things of de Major."
+
+  Source: Isabella Dorroh (N, 75), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 11/22/27.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  May 31, 1937
+  Edited by: Martha Ritter
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Newberry County, S. C. below Prosperity on Capt. George
+De Walt's place. My daddy and mammy was Giles and Lizzie De Walt
+Downing. My daddy belonged to de Outz family, but changed his name to
+Downing--his master was Downing Outz. I was born about 1857. My mother
+had 16 children, some died young.
+
+I was a little chap when the war was here, but I remember de soldiers
+coming home from de war. De Yankees went through here and stole all the
+cattle and all the eats. De Ku Klux marched down de road dressed in
+white sheets. Freedom come and most of the slaves went away, but I
+stayed on wid Marse De Walt. Daddy worked wid Downing Outz for wages.
+When I was 15 years old I worked in de fields like grown folks. I never
+learned to read and write. We had no schools then for colored people. De
+only church we had after freedom come was a small "brush arbor" church.
+
+"We hunted rabbits, 'possums, squirrels, wild turkeys, doves and
+partridges there.
+
+"I joined de church when I was 20 years old, 'cause I thought times
+would be better for me then. Of course, I kind of back-slided little
+afterwards, but always tried to do right.
+
+  Source: Laurence Downing (80), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. Leland Sumer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, Jane 23, 1937
+
+  WASHINGTON DOZIER
+  Ex-Slave, 90 years
+
+
+"Dis heah sho' Washington Dozier. Dat is wha' de hard time left uv him.
+I born en raise dere in Florence County de 18th uv December, 1847. Don'
+know 'xactly wha' my father name, but my mudder tell me he wuz name
+Dozier. My mudder wuz Becky en she b'long to ole man Wiles Gregg dere on
+de Charleston road. I hab two sisters en one brother, but not uv one
+father. I s'ppose brother Henry wuz me whole brother en Fannie en
+Ca'oline wuz jes me half sister."
+
+"Well, dey ne'er hab so mucha sumptin, but I recollect dey make dey own
+produce den. Oh, dey lib very well. We call it good libin' at dat time.
+Coase de bedding de colored peoples hab wasn't much cause dey jes hab
+some kind uv home-made stuff den. We raise in a t'ree room house wha'
+hab floor on two uv de room. Hab house right dere on de Gregg
+plantation. Family went from age to age in dat day en time wid dey own
+Massa name. I 'member my gra'mudder was name Fannie Gregg. Now, I tell
+yuh how I 'count fa me hab de name Dozier, I jes s'ppose dat come from
+me father."
+
+"Hadder do some sorta work in dem days lak hoe corn en replant en so on
+lak dat, but ne'er didn't do no man work. Wuz jes uh half hand, dat is
+'bout so. Dey gi'e us plenty sumptin to eat den, but ne'er pay us no
+money. Coase dey didn't 'low us no choice uv wha' we eat at dat time.
+Hab plenty meat en corn bread en molasses mos' aw de time. Den dey le'
+us hab uh garden uv we own en we hunt possum many uh time en ketch fish
+too. Meat was de t'ing dat I lak mostly."
+
+"Dey gi'e us good clothes to put on us back wha' dey hab make on de
+plantation en in de winter, dey gi'e us good warm clothes. Jes wear
+wha'e'er de white folks gi'e us. Didn't take no 'ffect tall 'bout Sunday
+clothes."
+
+"Fust time I marry I hab uh very good wedding. Marry ole man Gurley
+daughter o'er in Florence County. Don' know 'xactly how ole I was den,
+but I c'n tell yah dis much, I wasn't in no herry to marry. Aw colored
+peoples hadder do to marry den wuz to go to dey Massa en ge' uh permit
+en consider demselves man en wife. I recollect dat we hab a very good
+wedding supper dere. I marry Georgeanna de second time en I hab four
+head uv chillun by me fust wife en four head uv chillun by me second
+wife. Ne'er couldn't tell how many gran'chillun I got."
+
+My Massa en Missus wuz mighty pious good people. Dey go to preachin'
+dere to Hopewell Presbyterian Chu'ch aw de time. De man wha' wuz de
+preacher dere den wuz name Frierson. De colored peoples go dere to dat
+same chu'ch en sot en de gallery. Yuh know dere spirituals hymns en dere
+reels. I c'n sing one uv dem dat I use'er sing in my slumberin' hours.
+It go lak dis:
+
+  Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+  Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+  Oh Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'
+  When ole Gable go down on de seashore?
+
+  He gwinna place one foot in de sea
+  En de udder on de land,
+  En declare tha' time would be no more,
+  Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do?
+
+  Chillun, wha' yah gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+  Chillun, wha' yah gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+  Then chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do
+  When ole Gable go down on de seashore?
+
+  He gwinna place one foot in de sea
+  En de udder on de land,
+  En declare tha' time would be no more,
+  Then chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+
+"Now de angels sing dat to me in my slumberin' hour en dey sing it dat I
+might gi'e it to de libin' heah on dis earth. Well, I know right smart
+uv dem song cause accordin' to my 'sperience, de hymn book wha' to fence
+de human family in. I got ah good set uv lungs en I wuz de one wha' lead
+de flock den. Dere jes one grand reason why I can' sing right well dis
+a'ternoon, yuh is take me on de surprise lak."
+
+"I was jes uh chap in slavery time en I hadder stay dere home aw de time
+whey dere didn't no harm come 'bout me. Dey le' we chillun play marbles
+en ball aw we wanna den. Jes chunk de ball to one annuder o'er de house.
+Dat how we play ball in dem times. My white folks didn't do nuthin but
+stay home en go to chu'ch meetin's. Dey ne'er didn't punish none uv dey
+colored peoples en didn' 'low no udder people to do it neither. I
+couldn't tell yah how many slave dey own but dey hab more slave by de
+increase uv dey families. Dey hab so many dat some uv de time dey'ud
+hire some uv dem out to annuder plantation. Ne'er didn't see em sell
+none uv dey colored peoples. I know dis much, dat wuz uh right good
+place to lib."
+
+"I heared tell uv trouble 'tween de whites en de colored peoples, but
+dere wuzn't none uv dat 'round whey I stay. Dey say some uv de slave run
+'way fa bad treatment en stay in de woods. Didn't hab no jails den en
+when dey'd ketch em, dey'ud buff em en gag em en hoss whip em. Now, I
+ne'er see none uv dat but I heared tell uv it."
+
+"My Massa ne'er didn't work us hard lak. Coase uz de day' ud come, de
+hands hadder go up to de big house en go 'bout dey business, but dey
+al'ays knock offen early on uh Saturday evenin' en le' everbody do jes
+wha' dey wanna dere on de plantation. Ne'er didn't use no horn to wake
+dey colored peoples up en didn't wake em work en de big Christmus day en
+New Years' neither. Ne'er hab no udder holidays but dem two. My Massa
+gi'e aw his colored peoples uh big Christmus dinner to de white folks
+house. Jes hab plenty uv fresh meat en rice en biscuit en cake fa
+eve'ybody dat day."
+
+"Dey hab funeral fa de colored peoples den jes lak dey hab dese days
+'cept dey ne'er hab no preacher 'bout. Aw de slaves stop workin' fa de
+funeral en dey'ud jes carry de body en permit it to de ground uz wuz de
+usual t'ing dey do. Coase dey hab plenty singin' dere."
+
+"Dem t'ing wha' people call ghostes, dey is evil walks. I know dis much,
+de sperit uv de body travels en dat de truth sho' uz I libin' heah.
+Coase I ain' ne'er see none uv dem t'ing en I ain' scared uv nuthin
+neither. Don' ne'er pay no 'ttention to no black cat en t'ing lak dat.
+Ain' bother wid none uv dem charm neither. De peoples use'er hab dey own
+doc'or book en dey search dat en use wha' it say do. Dey ne'er use no
+me'icine tall den but calomel en castor oil en turpentine."
+
+"I sho' 'member when de fust gun shoot dere to Fort Sumter. Us fer uz I
+c'n recollect, it wuz in June. De Yankees come t'rough dere en to my
+knowin', dey 'haved very well. Jes ax my Massa fa sumptin to eat en dat
+wuz aw dey done. Dere sho' wuz uh rejoicing 'mongest some uv de colored
+peoples when dey tell em dey wuz free uz de white folks wuz. Some uv dem
+leab dey Massa plantation jes uz soon uz dey know'd dey wuz free, but we
+ne'er do dat. Jes stayed right on dere wid Mr. Gregg en work fa
+one-third uv wha' dey make. Coase de white folks furnish aw de wear en
+tear uv eve't'ing."
+
+"Dey ain' ne'er hab no schools fa de colored peoples no whey 'bout whey
+I stay 'fore freedom come heah. Won' long a'ter de war dat free schools
+wuz open up dere. It jes lak dis, I ain' bother wid dem schools mucha
+den, but I c'n read right smart. Jes ketch it uz I come 'long en wha' I
+kotch, I put dat to work. I is went to one uv dese night schools dey hab
+'bout heah not long gone."
+
+"Mr. Abraham Lincoln, I ain' ne'er see him, but I know he wuz de
+President uv de United States. Ain' ne'er see Mr. Jefferson Davis
+neither. Dey wus oppositionalist den, I sho' know dat."
+
+"It jes lak dis, I t'ink dis uh better day we lib in dese times. When we
+b'long to de white folks, we lib, en a'ter we wuz free we lib right on.
+I t'ink being free de best time to lib. Better to be loose den tied
+cause don' care how good yo' owner, yuh hadder be under dey
+jurisdiction. Ain' dat right?"
+
+  Source: Washington Dozier, age 90, colored, Pee Dee, Marion
+  Co. (Personal interview, June 1937).
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  Sept. 22, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+  [~HW: Duk~]
+
+
+"Vinie Wilkins is my daughter's name dat live wid me. My son owns dis
+house and he keeps it up fer me and his sister. I's born on de bank of
+Cherokee Creek, but I jest 'members how many years I stayed dar. Atter
+Freedom had been a long time, we moved to Mr. Chesterfield Scruggs'
+plantation whar we share cropped. It was on de old Spartanburg road from
+here to Spartanburg.
+
+"I was purtty good-size chile when de Ku Klux come and tried to git my
+daddy. Dey whipped him; den he run off and stayed off fer over seven
+years. Dem Ku Klux was in all kinds of shapes, wid horns and things on
+dere heads. Dey was so scary looking dat I ain't never fergot dem. Dem's
+de awfulest 'boogers' I is ever see'd befo' or since. I was in de bed
+and so was Pa, but dey broke in our do' and got him. I kivvered up my
+head and did not make narry a sound. Dat's all dat I can recollect now."
+
+  Source: Alice Duke (72), 401 Woods St., Gaffney, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 9/16/37
+
+
+
+
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, June 9, 1937
+
+  AUNT SILVA DURANT
+  Ex-Slave
+
+
+"I don' know 'xactly when I wuz born but I hear my white folks say dat I
+wuz born de fust (first) year uv freedom. I I c'n tell yuh dis much dat
+I wuz uh grown 'oman when de shake wuz. Aw de older peoples wuz at de
+chu'ch en ha' left us home to take care uv aw dem little chillun. Fust
+t'ing we is know de house 'gin to quiver lak. We ne'er know wha' been to
+matter en den de house 'gin to rock en rock en rock. We wuz so scare we
+run outer in de yard en eve't'ing outer dere wuz jes uh shaking jes lak
+de house wuz. We ne'er know wha' to do. Den we heared de peoples comin'
+from de chu'ch jes uh runnin' en uh hollerin'. Didn't nobody know wha'
+make dat. I tellin yuh jes lak dat wuz, de jedgment ain' ne'er been no
+closer come heah den when dat shake was."
+
+"My mudder wuz name Clorrie en she b'long to Miss Millie Gasque up de
+road dere. I born in Miss Millie yard en I stay dere till I wuz six year
+old. My pa say I wuz six year old. He been ole man Vidger Hanes en
+b'long to Mr. Wesley White o'er dere 'bout laughin 'fore freedom 'clare.
+A'ter dat we move on de hill en my pa hire me dere to Colonel Durant to
+wash dishes en help 'bout de kitchen. Den dey put me to do de washin' en
+I been uh washin' en uh washin' mos' e'er since. Dats de way I done till
+I ge' so I ne'er couldn't make it en den I hadder quit offen. Dat how
+come I hab aw dese pretty flowers. Miss Durant gi'e me aw dem dahlia
+wha' yuh see in dat yard right dere. Dat how I ge' wha' little bit uv
+money I hab dese day en time. Dem white folks up dere in town comes down
+heah en begs em from me."
+
+"Dey tell me some uv de peoples ge' 'long good en den some uv dem ge'
+'long bad back dere in slavery day. Don' care how good peoples is dere
+sho' be uh odd'un de crowd some uv de time. Dey say some uv de colored
+peoples'ud run 'way from dey Massa en hide in de woods. Den dey slip
+back to de plantation in de night en ge' green corn outer de white folks
+field en carry em back in de woods en cook em dere. I hear Tom Bostick
+tell 'bout when he run 'way one time. Say he use'er run 'way en hide in
+de woods aw de time. Den de o'erseer ketch him one time when he been
+come back en wuz grabblin' 'bout de tatoe patch. Say he gwinna make Tom
+Bostick stay outer de woods ur kill him 'fore sun up dat day. Tom say
+dey take him down 'side de woods en strip he clothes offen him. (I hear
+em say dere plenty people bury down 'side dem woods dat dere ain' nobody
+know 'bout). Den he say dey tie him to uh tree en take uh fat light'ud
+torch en le' de juice drap outer it right on he naked body. He say he
+holler en he beg en he ax em hab mercy but dat ne'er didn't do no good.
+He mock how de tar make uh racket when it drap on he skin. Yuh know it
+gwinna make uh racke't. Dat t'ing gwinna make uh racket when it drap on
+anyt'ing wha' fresh. Ain' yuh ne'er hear no hot grease sizzle lak?
+Yas'um, hear Tom Bostick tell dat more times den I got fingers en toe."
+
+"Den dey'ud hab sale en sell some uv de colored peoples offen to annuder
+plantation hundred mile 'way some uv de time. 'Vide man en he wife. Dey
+sho' done it. I hear pa tell 'bout dat. Make em stand up on uh stump en
+bid em offen dere jes lak dey wuz hoss. Pa say dey sell he brother Elic
+wife 'way wid de onlyest child dey hab. Ne'er didn't see dat wife en
+child no more."
+
+"Coase de le' de colored peoples visit 'round from one plantation to
+annuder but dey hadder hab uh ticke' wid em. Effen dey meet em in de
+road en dey ne'er hab dat ticke' somewhey 'bout on em, dey hadder take
+wha' follow. Ne'er 'low em to hab no udder paper 'bout em no whey. Effen
+dey see em wid uh paper, dey ax em 'bout it en effen it ne'er been uh
+ticke', dey mighty apt to gi'e em uh good t'rashin'."
+
+"Dey tell me some uv de colored peoples use'er take t'ing from dey
+Massa, but I ain' ne'er see em do none uv dat on my white folks
+plantation. Ne'er hadder take nuthin dere. Ge' 'nough meal en meat dere
+to de big house eve'y Friday to las' em aw t'rough de week. Reckon de
+ration wuz more wholesome den in dat day en time cause dey take time en
+cook dey t'ing done. Hadder cook in de fireplace. Dat how dey done. I
+'member wha' good t'ings my ole mammy use'er cook in dat spider. Jes set
+it on de coals en keep uh turnin' it 'bout wid de handle. Dere ain'
+ne'er nuthin eat no better den dat ash cake she use'er make fa we
+chillun. Yuh ain' ne'er hear tell 'bout dat. Jes ster (stir) up uh nice
+hoecake en wrap it up in oak leaves wha' right sorta wet. Den yuh rake
+uh heap uv ash togedder en lay yuh hoecake on dat en kiver it up wid
+some more ash. Yuh le' it cook right done en den yuh take it up en wash
+it offen en it ready to eat. Us chillun lub dat den."
+
+"Annuder t'ing dat eat right smart in dem days wuz dat t'ing call big
+hominy. Dey jes ge' some whole grain corn en put it in de pot en boil it
+long time. Den dey take it offen de fire en pour lye water aw o'er it.
+Dey do dat to ge' de husk offen it. Soak ash outer de fire en ge' dat
+lye water. Den dey hadder take it to de well outer in de yard en wash it
+uh heap uv time to ge' dat lye outer it. A'ter dat dey season it wid
+salt en pepper en cook it annuder time. No 'mam, dey ne'er eat it wid no
+butter. Jes drap it in de grease wha' left in de pan a'ter dey fry de
+meat en make it right brown lak. Dat de way dey cook dey big hominy."
+
+"Folks don' hab time to do t'ings in de right way lak dey use'er cause
+de world gwine too fas' dese day en time. Dese people comin' up 'bout
+heah dese days ain' gwinna ne'er quit habin' so mucha belly ache long uz
+dey ain' stop eatin' aw dem half done ration dey is eat. Coase de
+peoples wiser now but dey weaker. De peoples wuz more humble in dem
+days. When dey didn't hab no rain, dey ge' togedder en pray fa rain en
+dey ge' it too. I tellin' yuh peoples gotta work effen dey gwinna ge' to
+de right place when dey leab heah. Effen de peoples ne'er didn't go to
+chu'ch in dem days, dey stay home. Ne'er see chillun in de road on
+Sunday eve'y which uh way lak yunnah see em dese days. My pa say yuh
+mus' train up uh child in de way he oughta go en den effen dey stray
+'way, dey sho' come back a'ter while. I tellin' yuh de peoples ain' lak
+dey use'er wuz. Dey sho' wickeder en worser in dis day en time den when
+I raise up. Dey wuz more friendly den en do more favor fa peoples. It
+jes lak dis, I ain' gwinna do nobody no harm. Effen I can' do em no
+good, ain' gwinna do no harm en ain' gwinna 'buse em neither."
+
+  Source: Aunt Silva Durant, colored, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview, May 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, October 21, 1937
+
+  SYLVIA DURANT
+  Ex-Slave, 72 Years
+
+
+"Well, I tell you just like it been. Dat was an unexpectin trip when you
+come here dat day en I wasn' thinkin bout much dat I had know to tell
+you. It been kind o' put me on a wonder."
+
+"You see, child, I never didn' see my grandfather cause when I was born,
+dey had done sold him away. I hear tell dat sometimes dey would take de
+wife from dey husband en another time dey would take de husband from dey
+wife en sell dem off yonder somewhe' en never didn' see dem no more
+neither. Yes, I sho know dat cause I hear my father speak bout dat
+plenty times. Yes, mam, dey sold my uncle's wife away en he never didn'
+see her no more till after freedom come en he done been married again
+den. Speculators carried my mother's first husband off en den she
+married again. Cose I was born of de second husband en dat ain' been
+yesterday."
+
+"I hear talk bout dat didn' none of de colored people have nothin in
+slavery time en heap of dem wasn' allowed to pick up a paper or nothin
+no time. Often hear dem talk dat some of de niggers was freed long time
+fore dey know bout it. Hear dem say some white folks hold dem long time
+till dey could make out to get somethin for demselves. Don' think so.
+Don' think so. No, mam, don' think so. Dey might been intended for dem
+to get somethin when dey was freed, but I never learn of nobody gettin
+nothin. Cose I often heard my father say some white folks thought more
+bout dey colored people den others en hope dem out more. Hear tell dat
+didn' none of dem have no clothes much den. No, mam, colored people won'
+bless wid no clothes much in dem days. I remember dey had to wear dese
+old big shoes, call brogans, wid brass all cross de toes here. Nobody
+don' wear nothin like dat now. Dey was coarse shoes. Some say plenty of
+de people had to go barefooted all de time in dem days. Reckon dat would
+kill de people in dis day en time. Couldn' stand nothin like dat. Yes,
+mam, see Tom Bostick walk right cross dat field many a day just as
+barefooted as he come in de world en all de ground would be covered over
+wid ice en snow. De people get after him en he say, 'Well, I had worser
+den dis to go through wid in slavery time.' Say he come up dat way en he
+never know no difference den dat he had thick shoe on his foot."
+
+"Well, you see, some of de white folks would spare dey colored people so
+much ration when dey knock off work on a Saturday to last dem till de
+next Saturday come. Hear tell dey give dem a peck of meal en a little
+molasses en a hog jowl en dat had to last dem all de week. Dem what use
+a little tobacco, give dem a plug of dat en give dem a little flour for
+Sunday. Didn' nobody have to work on Sunday en den dey would allow dem
+two days off for Christmas too. I tellin you bout how my white folks
+would do, but dem what had a rough Massa, dey just got one day. I hear
+dem say dey always had a little flour on Christmas. Don' know what else
+dey give dem, but won' nothin much. I know dat. Sho know dat."
+
+"I hear say two intelligent people didn' live so far apart en one never
+treat dey colored people right en being as dey wasn' allowed to go from
+one place to another widout dey had a ticket wid dem, dey would steal
+somethin en run away. Say de just man tell dat other man dat if he would
+feed his niggers right, dey wouldn' have no need to be stealin so much
+things. No'um, I does hate to tell dat. Cose dey say dey done it. Say de
+overseer would beat dem up dat never do what he tell dem to do mighty
+bad en wouldn' be particular bout whe' dey was buried neither. Hear talk
+dat dey bury heap of dem in a big hole down side de woods somewhe'. Cose
+I don' know whe' dat word true or not, but dat what dey tell me."
+
+"Oo--oo--yes, mam, dey sho whip de colored women in dem days. Yes, mam,
+de overseer done it cause I hear dem say dat myself. Tell dat dey take
+de wives en whip de blood out dem en de husband never didn' dare to say
+nothin. Hear dey whip some so bad dey had to grease dem. If de colored
+people didn' do to suit de white folks, dey sho whip dem. No, mam, if
+dey put you out to work, ain' nobody think dey gwine lay down under de
+bresh (brush) en stay dere widout doin dey portion of work. Yes, child,
+hear bout dat more times, den I got fingers en toes."
+
+"Oh, de times be worser in a way dese days. Yes, mam, dey sho worser in
+a way. De people be wiser now den what dey used to be, but dere so much
+gwine on, dey ain' thinkin bout dey welfare no time en dat'll shorten
+anybody days. Oh, honey, we livin in a fast world dese days. Peoples
+used to help one another out more en didn' somebody be tryin to pull you
+down all de time. When you is found a wicked one in dat day en time, it
+been a wicked one. Cose de people be more intelligent in learnin dese
+days, but I'm tellin you dere a lot of other things got to build you up
+'sides learnin. Dere one can get up to make a speech what ain' got no
+learnin en dey can just preach de finest kind of speech. Say dey ain'
+know one thing dey gwine say fore dey get up dere. Folks claim dem kind
+of people been bless wid plenty good mother wit. Den another time one
+dat have de learnin widout de mother wit can get up en seem like dey
+just don' know whe' to place de next word. Yes, mam, I hear dat often."
+
+"What I meant by what I say bout de wicked one? I meant when you found a
+wild one, it been a wild one for true. I mean you better not meddle wid
+one like dat cause dey don' never care what dey do. People look like dey
+used to care more for dey lives den dey do dese days. Dat what I meant,
+but you can weigh dat like you want to. You see, dere be different ways
+for people to hurt demselves."
+
+"Oh, my soul, hear talk bout dere be ghosts en hants, but I never didn'
+experience nothin like dat. Yes, mam, I hear too much of dat. Been
+hearin bout dat ever since I been in a manner grown, you may say. I hear
+people say dey see dem, but I ain' take up no time wid nothin like dat.
+I have a mind like dis, if such a thing be true, it ain' intended for
+everybody to see dem. I gwine tell you far as I know bout it. I hear
+dese old people say when anybody child born wid a caul over dey face,
+dey can always see dem things en dem what ain' born dat way, dey don'
+see dem. Cose I don' know nothin bout what dat is en I is hate to tell
+it, but I hear lot of people say dey can see hants en ghosts all time of
+a night. Yes'um, I hear de older people say dat, but I don' know whe' it
+true or no. I know I don' see nothin myself, but de wind. Don' see dat,
+but I feels it."
+
+"Oh, my God, some people believe in dat thing call conjurin, but I didn'
+never believe in nothin like dat. Never didn' understand nothin like
+dat. Hear say people could make you leave home en all dat, but I never
+couldn' see into it. Never didn' believe in it."
+
+"Yes, mam, I see plenty people wear dem dimes round dey ankle en all
+kind of things on dey body, but never didn' see my mother do nothin like
+dat. I gwine tell you it just like I got it. Hear talk dat some would
+wear dem for luck en some tote dem to keep people from hurtin dem. I got
+a silver dime in de house dere in my trunk right to dis same day dat I
+used to wear on a string of beads, but I took it off. No, mam, couldn'
+stand nothin like dat. Den some peoples keeps a bag of asafetida tied
+round dey neck to keep off sickness. Folks put it on dey chillun to keep
+dem from havin worms. I never didn' wear none in my life, but I know it
+been a good thing for people, especially chillun. Let me see, dere a
+heap of other things dat I learn bout been good for people to wear for
+sickness. Dere been nutmeg dat some people make a hole in en wear it
+round dey neck. I forget whether it been good for neuralgia or some of
+dem other body ailments, but I know it won' for no conjurin."
+
+"Honey, pa always say dat you couldn' expect no more from a child den
+you puts in dey raisin. Pa say, 'Sylvia, raise up your chillun in de
+right way en dey'll smile on you in your old age.' Honey, I don' see
+what dese people gwine expect dey chillun to turn out to be nohow dese
+days cause dey ain' got no raisin en dey ain' got no manners. I say, I
+got a feelin for de chillun cause dey parents ain' stay home enough of
+time to learn dem nothin en dey ain' been know no better. Remember when
+my parents went off en tell us to stay home, we never didn' darsen to go
+off de place. Den when dey would send us off, we know we had to be back
+in de yard fore sunup in de evenin. Yes, child, we all had to be
+obedient to our parents in dat day en time. I always was sub-obedient
+myself en I never had no trouble nowhe'. Yes, mam, when we went off
+anywhe', we ax to go en we been back de hour dey expect to see us. Yes,
+mam, chillun was more obedient den. None of us didn' sass us parents.
+Won' raise dat way. I remember when I was young, I used to tote water en
+make fire to de pot for my mother to wash plenty times. Den dey learn me
+how to use a hoe en when I was married en left home, won' nothin strange
+to me."
+
+"No, mam, I didn' have no weddin when I was married, but everything was
+pleasant en turned out all right. Yes, mam, everybody don' feel so good
+leavin home, but I felt all right, I was married over dere in Bethel M.
+E. Church en served a little cake en wine dere home afterwards en dat
+ain' no weddin. Didn' have nothin but pound cake en wine. Had three
+plain cakes. Two was cut up dere home en I remember I carried one wid me
+over Catfish dere to de Reaves place."
+
+  Source: Sylvia Durant, ex-slave, age about 72, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Oct., 1937.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South
+Carolina, Part 1, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES VOL. XIV. ***
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Slave Narratives, Volume XIV,
+ South Carolina Narratives, Part 1, Prepared by he Federal Writers' Project of
+ the Works Progress Administration for the State of South Carolina
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South Carolina,
+Part 1, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South Carolina, Part 1
+       A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From
+              Interviews with Former Slaves.
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: July 26, 2006 [EBook #18912]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES VOL. XIV. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Janet Blenkinship and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by the
+Library of Congress, Manuscript Division)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h1>SLAVE NARRATIVES</h1>
+
+<h2><i>A Folk History of Slavery in the United States<br /> From Interviews with
+Former Slaves</i></h2>
+
+<h4>TYPEWRITTEN RECORDS PREPARED BY<br />THE FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT<br />1936-1938<br />
+ASSEMBLED BY<br />THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS PROJECT<br />WORK PROJECTS
+ADMINISTRATION<br />FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA<br />SPONSORED BY THE LIBRARY OF
+CONGRESS</h4>
+
+
+<p>WASHINGTON 1941</p>
+
+<h2>VOLUME XIV</h2>
+
+<h2>SOUTH CAROLINA NARRATIVES</h2>
+
+<h2>PART 1</h2>
+
+
+<h4>Prepared by<br />the Federal Writers' Project of<br />the Works Progress
+Administration<br />for the State of South Carolina</h4>
+
+<div class="trans-note">
+        Transcriber's Note:<br />To reflect the individual character of this document,
+inconsistencies in formatting have been retained.<br /><br />
+[HW:  ] denotes a handwritten note.
+    </div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>INFORMANTS</h2>
+
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Informants">
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Abrams, M. E.</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_1'><b>1</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Adams, Ezra</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_5'><b>5</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Adams, Mary</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_9'><b>9</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Adams, Victoria</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_10'><b>10</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Adamson, Frank</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_13'><b>13</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Andrews, Frances</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_17'><b>17</b></a>, <a href='#Page_18'><b>18</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Arthur, Pete</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_19'><b>19</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bacchus, Josephine</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_20'><b>20</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ballard, William</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_26'><b>26</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Barber, Charley</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_29'><b>29</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Barber, Ed</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_34'><b>34</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Barber, Millie</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_38'><b>38</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bates, Anderson</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_42'><b>42</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bates, Millie</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_46'><b>46</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bees, Welcome</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_48'><b>48</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bell, Anne</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_51'><b>51</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bevis, Caroline</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_55'><b>55</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Black, Maggie</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_57'><b>57</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bluford, Fordon</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_62'><b>62</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Boulware, Samuel</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_65'><b>65</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Boyd, John</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_70'><b>70</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bradley, Jane</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_74'><b>74</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brice, Andy</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_75'><b>75</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Briggs, George</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_80'><b>80</b></a>, <a href='#Page_89'><b>89</b></a>, <a href='#Page_93'><b>93</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bristow, Josephine</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_98'><b>98</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Broome, Anne</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_104'><b>104</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brown, Hagar</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_107'><b>107</b></a>, <a href='#Page_112'><b>112</b></a>, <a href='#Page_115'><b>115</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brown, Henry</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_118'><b>118</b></a>, <a href='#Page_122'><b>122</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brown, John C.</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_127'><b>127</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brown, Mary Frances</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_131'><b>131</b></a>, <a href='#Page_134'><b>134</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brown, Sara</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_137'><b>137</b></a>, <a href='#Page_141'><b>141</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bryant, Margaret</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_143'><b>143</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Burrell, Savilla</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_149'><b>149</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Burton, C. B.</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_152'><b>152</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Butler, George Ann</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_153'><b>153</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Butler, Isaiah</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_155'><b>155</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Butler, Solbert</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_161'><b>161</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cain, Granny</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_166'><b>166</b></a>, <a href='#Page_168'><b>168</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Caldwell, Laura</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_169'><b>169</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Caldwell, Solomon</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_170'><b>170</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cameron, Nelson</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_172'><b>172</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Campbell, Thomas</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_176'><b>176</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cannon, Sylvia</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_180'><b>180</b></a>, <a href='#Page_187'><b>187</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Caroline, Albert</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_197'><b>197</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chisolm, Silvia</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_199'><b>199</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chisolm, Tom</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_201'><b>201</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cleland, Maria</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_204'><b>204</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Clifton, Peter</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_205'><b>205</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Coleman, Henry</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_210'><b>210</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Coleman, Rev. Tuff</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_216'><b>216</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Collier, Louisa</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_218'><b>218</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Collins, John</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_224'><b>224</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Corry, Bouregard</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_227'><b>227</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Craig, Caleb</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_229'><b>229</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cunningham, Dinah</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_234'><b>234</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Daniels, Lucy</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_238'><b>238</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davenport, John N.</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_240'><b>240</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davenport, Moses</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_244'><b>244</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, Charlie</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_245'><b>245</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, Charlie</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_250'><b>250</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, Heddie</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_254'><b>254</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, Henry</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_260'><b>260</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, Jesse</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_263'><b>263</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, Lizzie</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_267'><b>267</b></a>, <a href='#Page_288'><b>288</b></a>, <a href='#Page_293'><b>293</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, Louisa</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_299'><b>299</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, Wallace</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_304'><b>304</b></a>, <a href='#Page_306'><b>306</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis, William Henry</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_308'><b>308</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dawkins, Elias</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_313'><b>313</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dill, Will</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_319'><b>319</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dixon, Thomas</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_324'><b>324</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dorroh, Isabella</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_326'><b>326</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Downing, Laurence</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_329'><b>329</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dozier, Washington</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_330'><b>330</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Duke, Alice</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_336'><b>336</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Durant, Silva (Sylvia)</span></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_337'><b>337</b></a>, <a href='#Page_342'><b>342</b></a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>From Field Notes.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>District No. 4.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>April 27, 1937</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (Negro).</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Marse Glenn had 64 slaves. On Sat'day night, de darkies would have a
+little fun on de side. A way off from de big house, down in de pastur'
+dar wuz about de bigges' gully what I is ebber seed. Dat wuz de place
+whar us collected mos' ev'ry Sa'day night fer our lil' mite o' fun frum
+de white folks hearin'. Sometime it wuz so dark dat you could not see de
+fingers on yo' han' when you would raise it fo' your face. Dem wuz sho'
+schreechy nights; de schreechiest what I is ever witnessed, in all o' my
+born natu'al days. Den of cose, dar wuz de moonlight nights when a darky
+could see; den he see too much. De pastur' wuz big and de trees made
+dark spots in it on de brightest nights. All kind o' varmints tuck and
+hollered at ye as ye being gwine along to reach dat gully. Cose us would
+go in droves sometime, and den us would go alone to de gully sometime.
+When us started together, look like us would git parted 'fo we reach de
+gully all together. One of us see som'tin and take to runnin'. Maybe de
+other darkies in de drove, de wouldn't see nothin' jes den. Dats zactly
+how it is wid de spirits. De mout (might) sho de'self to you and not to
+me. De acts raal queer all de way round. Dey can take a notion to scare
+de daylights outtin you when you is wid a gang; or dey kin scare de
+whole gang; den, on de other hand, dey kin sho de'self off to jes two or
+three. It ain't never no knowin' as to how and when dem things is gwine
+to come in your path right fo your very eyes; specially when you is
+partakin' in some raal dark secret whar you is planned to act raal sof'
+and quiet like all de way through.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dem things bees light on dark nights; de shines de'self jes like dese
+'lectric lights does out dar in dat street ever' night, 'cept dey is a
+scaird waary light dat dey shines wid. On light nights, I is seed dem
+look, furs dark like a tree shad'er; den dey gits raal scairy white.
+T'aint no use fer white folks to low dat it ain't no haints, an'
+grievements dat follows ye all around, kaise I is done had to many
+'spriences wid dem. Den dare is dese young niggers what ain't fit to be
+called darkies, dat tries to ac' eddicated, and says dat it ain't any
+spe'rits dat walks de earth. When dey lows dat to me, I rolls my old
+eyes at dem an' axes dem how comes dey runs so fas' through de woods at
+night. Yes sirree, dem fool niggers sees dem jes as I does. Raaly de
+white folks doesn't have eyes fer sech as we darkies does; but dey bees
+dare jes de same.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mindin' all o' dat, we n'used to steal our hog ever' sa'day night
+and take off to de gully whar us'd git him dressed and barbecued.
+Niggers has de mos'es fun at a barbecue dat dare is to be had. As none
+o' our gang didn't have no 'ligion, us never felt no scruples bout not
+gettin de 'cue' ready fo' Sunday. Us'd git back to de big house along in
+de evenin' o' Sunday. Den Marse, he come out in de yard an' low whar wuz
+you niggers dis mornin'. How come de chilluns had to do de work round
+here. Us would tell some lie bout gwine to a church 'siety meetin'. But
+we got raal scairt and mose 'cided dat de best plan wuz to do away wid
+de barbecue in de holler. Conjin 'Doc.' say dat he done put a spell on
+ole Marse so dat he wuz 'blevin ev'y think dat us tole him bout Sa'day
+night and Sunday morning. Dat give our minds 'lief; but it turned out
+dat in a few weeks de Marse come out from under de spell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> Doc never
+even knowed nothin' bout it. Marse had done got to countin' his hogs
+ever' week. When he cotch us, us wuz all punished wid a hard long task.
+Dat cured me o' believing in any conjuring an' charmin' but I still
+kno's dat dare is haints; kaise ever time you goes to dat gully at
+night, up to dis very day, you ken hear hogs still gruntin' in it, but
+you can't see nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"After Marse Glenn tuck and died, all o' de white folks went off and
+lef' de plantation. Some mo' folks dat wuz not o' quality, come to live
+dare an' run de plantation. It wuz done freedom den. Wo'nt long fo dem
+folks pull up and lef' raal onexpected like. I doesn't recollect what
+dey went by, fat is done slipped my mind; but I must 'av knowed. But dey
+lowed dat de house wuz to draffy and dat dey couldn't keep de smoke in
+de chimney an' dat de doo's would not stay shet. Also dey lowed dat
+folks prowled aroun' in de yard in de night time a keepin' dem awake.</p>
+
+<p>"Den Marse Glenn's boys put Mammy in de house to keep it fer 'em. But
+Lawd God! Mammy said dat de furs night she stayed dare de haints nebber
+let her git not narr'y mite o' sleep. Us all had lowed dat wuz de raal
+reason dem white folks lef out so fas'. When Mammy could not live in dat
+big house whar she had stayed fer years, it won't no use fer nobody else
+to try. Mammy low dat it de Marse a lookin' fer his money what he done
+tuck and burried and de boys couldn't find no sign o' it. Atter dat, de
+sons tuck an' tacked a sign on de front gate, offering $200.00 to de
+man, white or black, dat would stay dar and fin' out whar dat money wuz
+burried. Our preacher, the Rev. Wallace, lowed dat he would stay dar and
+find out whar dat money wuz from de spirits. He knowed dat dey wuz tryin
+to sho de spot what dat money wuz.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He went to bed. A dog began running down dem steps; and a black cat run
+across de room dat turned to white befo' it run into de wall. Den a pair
+of white horses come down de stairway a rattling chains fer harness.
+Next a woman dressed in white come in dat room. Brother Wallace up and
+lit out dat house and he never went back no mo'.</p>
+
+<p>"Another preacher tried stayin' dar. He said he gwine to keep his head
+kivered plum up. Some'tin unkivered it and he seed a white goat a
+grinnin' at him. But as he wuz a brave man and trus' de Lawd, he lowed,
+'What you want wid me nohow?' The goat said, 'what is you doin' here.
+Raise, I knows dat you ain't sleep.' De preacher say, 'I wants you to
+tell me what ole Marse don tuck and hid dat money?' De goat grin and
+low, 'How come you don' look under your pillar, sometime?' Den he run
+away. De preacher hopped up and looked under de pillar, and dar wuz de
+money sho nuf. Peers like it wuz de one on de lef' end o' de back porch,
+but I jes remembers 'bout dat."</p>
+
+<p>Source: Mrs. M. E. Abrams, Whitmire, S. C.; told her by old "uncle"
+"Mad" Griffin, Whitmire, (Col. 82 yrs.) Interviewer: Caldwell Sims,
+Union, S. C. 2/25/37.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Henry Grant</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Columbia, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>REFLECTIONS OF EZRA ADAMS</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Ezra Adams is incapable of self-support, owing to ill health. He is very
+well taken care of by a niece, who lives on the Caughman land just off
+S. C. #6, and near Swansea, S. C.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy and pappy b'long to Marster Lawrence Adams, who had a big
+plantation in de eastern part of Lancaster County. He died four years
+after de Civil War and is buried right dere on de old plantation, in de
+Adams family burying grounds. I was de oldest of de five chillun in our
+family. I 'members I was a right smart size plowboy, when freedom come.
+I think I must of been 'bout ten or eleven years old, then. Dere's one
+thing I does know; de Yankees didn't tech our plantation, when they come
+through South Carolina. Up in de northern part of de county they sho'
+did destroy most all what folks had.</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't gwine to believe dat de slaves on our plantation didn't stop
+workin' for old marster, even when they was told dat they was free. Us
+didn't want no more freedom than us was gittin' on our plantation
+already. Us knowed too well dat us was well took care of, wid a plenty
+of vittles to eat and tight log and board houses to live in. De slaves,
+where I lived, knowed after de war dat they had abundance of dat
+somethin' called freedom, what they could not wat, wear, and sleep in.
+Yes, sir, they soon found out dat freedom ain't nothin', 'less you is
+got somethin' to live on and a place to call home. Dis livin' on liberty
+is lak young folks livin' on love after they gits married. It just don't
+work. No, sir, it las' so long and not a bit longer. Don't tell me! It
+sho' don't hold good when you has to work, or when you gits hongry. You
+knows dat poor white folks and niggers has got to work to live,
+regardless of liberty, love,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> and all them things. I believes a person
+loves more better, when they feels good. I knows from experience dat
+poor folks feels better when they has food in deir frame and a few dimes
+to jingle in deir pockets. I knows what it means to be a nigger, wid
+nothin'. Many times I had to turn every way I knowed to git a bite to
+eat. I didn't care much 'bout clothes. What I needed in sich times was
+food to keep my blood warm and gwine 'long.</p>
+
+<p>"Boss, I don't want to think, and I knows I ain't gwine to say a word,
+not a word of evil against deir dust lyin' over yonder in deir graves. I
+was old enough to know what de passin' 'way of old marster and missus
+meant to me. De very stream of lifeblood in me was dryin' up, it 'peared
+lak. When marster died, dat was my fust real sorrow. Three years later,
+missus passed 'way, dat was de time of my second sorrow. Then, I 'minded
+myself of a little tree out dere in de woods in November. Wid every
+sharp and cold wind of trouble dat blowed, more leaves of dat tree turnt
+loose and went to de ground, just lak they was tryin' to follow her. It
+seem lak, when she was gone, I was just lak dat tree wid all de leaves
+gone, naked and friendless. It took me a long time to git over all dat;
+same way wid de little tree, it had to pass through winter and wait on
+spring to see life again.</p>
+
+<p>"I has farmed 'most all my life and, if I was not so old, I would be
+doin' dat same thing now. If a poor man wants to enjoy a little freedom,
+let him go on de farm and work for hisself. It is sho' worth somethin'
+to be boss, and, on de farm you can be boss all you want to, 'less de
+man 'low his wife to hold dat 'portant post. A man wid a good wife, one
+dat pulls wid him, can see and feel some pleasure and experience some
+independence. But, bless your soul, if he gits a woman what wants to be
+both husband and wife, fare-you-well and good-bye, too, to all love,
+pleasure, and independence; 'cause you sho' is gwine to ketch hell here
+and no mild climate whenever you goes 'way. A bad man is worse, but a
+bad woman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> is almost terrible.</p>
+
+<p>"White man, dere is too many peoples in dese big towns and cities. Dere
+is more of them than dere is jobs to make a livin' wid. When some of
+them find out dat they can't make a livin', they turns to mischief, de
+easy way they thinks, takin' widout pay or work, dat which b'longs to
+other people. If I understands right, de fust sin dat was committed in
+de world was de takin' of somethin' dat didn't b'long to de one what
+took it. De gentleman what done dis was dat man Adam, back yonder in de
+garden. If what Adam done back yonder would happen now, he would be
+guilty of crime. Dat's how 'ciety names sin. Well, what I got to say is
+dis: If de courts, now, would give out justice and punishment as quick
+as dat what de Good Master give to Adam, dere would be less crime in de
+land I believes. But I 'spose de courts would be better if they had de
+same jurisdiction as de Master has. Yes, sir, they would be gwine some
+then.</p>
+
+<p>"I tells you, dis gittin' what don't b'long to you is de main cause of
+dese wars and troubles 'bout over dis world now. I hears de white folks
+say dat them Japanese is doin' dis very thing today in fightin' them
+Chinamens. Japan say dat China has done a terrible crime against them
+and de rest of de world, when it ain't nothin' but dat they wants
+somethin' what don't belong to them, and dat somethin' is to git more
+country. I may be wrong, anyhow, dat is what I has heard.</p>
+
+<p>"What does I think de colored people need most? If you please sir, I
+want to say dis. I ain't got much learnin', 'cause dere was no schools
+hardly 'round where I was brung up, but I thinks dat good teachers and
+work is what de colored race needs worser than anything else. If they
+has learnin', they will be more ashame to commit crime, most of them
+will be; and, if they has work to do, they ain't gwine to have time to
+do so much wrong. Course dere is gwine to be black sheeps in most
+flocks, and it is gwine to take patience to git them out, but they will
+come out, just as sho' as you is born.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Is de colored people superstitious? Listen at dat. You makes me laugh.
+All dat foolishness fust started wid de black man. De reason they is
+superstitious comes from nothin' but stomp-down ignorance. De white
+chillun has been nursed by colored women and they has told them stories
+'bout hants and sich lak. So de white chillun has growed up believin'
+some of dat stuff 'til they natchally pass it on from generation to
+generation. Here we is, both white and colored, still believin' some of
+them lies started back when de whites fust come to have de blacks 'round
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"If you wants to know what I thinks is de best vittles, I's gwine to be
+obliged to omit (admit) dat it is cabbage sprouts in de spring, and it
+is collard greens after frost has struck them. After de best vittles,
+dere come some more what is mighty tasty, and they is hoghead and
+chittlings wid 'tatoes and turnips. Did you see dat? Here I is talkin'
+'bout de joys of de appetite and water drapping from my mouth. I sho'
+must be gittin' hongry. I lak to eat. I has been a good eater all my
+life, but now I is gittin' so old dat 'cordin' to de scriptures, 'De
+grinders cease 'cause they are few', and too, 'Those dat look out de
+windows be darkened'. My old eyes and teeth is 'bout gone, and if they
+does go soon, they ain't gwine to beat dis old frame long, 'cause I is
+gwine to soon follow, I feels. I hope when I does go, I can be able to
+say what dat great General Stonewall Jackson say when he got kilt in de
+Civil War, 'I is gwine to cross de river and rest under de shade of de
+trees'."</p>
+
+<p>[<b>HW: Ezra Adams, Swansea (about 10m. south of Columbia)</b>]<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folk Lore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>District No. 4.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 27, 1937.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by: J. J. Murray.</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE STORIES</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>"AUNT" MARY ADAMS</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Aunt" Mary Adams was swinging easily back and forth in the porch swing
+as the writer stopped to speak to her. When questioned, she replied that
+she and her mother were ex-slaves and had belonged to Dr. C. E. Fleming.
+She was born in Columbia, but they were moved to Glenn Springs where her
+mother cooked for Dr. Fleming.</p>
+
+<p>She remembers going with a white woman whose husband was in jail, to
+carry him something to eat. She said that Mr. Jim Milster was in that
+jail, but he lived to get out, and later kept a tin shop in Spartanburg.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir, Dr. Fleming always kept enough for us Niggers to eat during
+the war. He was good to us. You know he married Miss Dean. Do you know
+Mrs. Lyles, Mrs. Simpson, Mr. Ed Fleming? Well, dey are my chilluns.</p>
+
+<p>"Some man here told me one day that I was ninety years old, but I do not
+believe I am quite that old. I don't know how old I am, but I was
+walking during slavery times. I can't work now, for my feet hurt me and
+my fingers ain't straight."</p>
+
+<p>She said all of her children were dead but two, that she knew of. She
+said that she had a room in that house and white people gave her
+different things. As the writer told her good-bye, she said, "Good-bye,
+and may the Lord bless you".</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: "Aunt" Mary Adams, 363 S. Liberty Street, Spartanburg, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: F. S. DuPre, Spartanburg, S. C.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Everett R. Pierce</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Columbia, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>VICTORIA ADAMS</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 90 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"You ask me to tell you something 'bout myself and de slaves in slavery
+times? Well Missy, I was borned a slave, nigh on to ninety years ago,
+right down here at Cedar Creek, in Fairfield County.</p>
+
+<p>"My massa's name was Samuel Black and missus was named Martha. She used
+to be Martha Kirkland befo' she married. There was five chillun in de
+family; they was: Alice, Manning, Sally, Kirkland, and de baby, Eugene.
+De white folks live in a great big house up on a hill; it was right
+pretty, too.</p>
+
+<p>"You wants to know how large de plantation was I lived on? Well, I don't
+know 'zackly but it was mighty large. There was forty of us slaves in
+all and it took all of us to keep de plantation goin'. De most of de
+niggers work in de field. They went to work as soon as it git light
+enough to see how to git 'round; then when twelve o'clock come, they all
+stops for dinner and don't go back to work 'til two. All of them work on
+'til it git almost dark. No ma'am, they ain't do much work at night
+after they gits home.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa Samuel ain't had no overseer, he look after his own plantation.
+My old granddaddy help him a whole heap though. He was a good nigger and
+massa trust him.</p>
+
+<p>"After de crops was all gathered, de slaves still had plenty of work to
+do. I stayed in de house wid de white folks. De most I had to do was to
+keep de house clean up and nurse de chillun. I had a heap of pretty
+clothes to wear, 'cause my missus give me de old clothes and shoes dat
+Missy Sally throw 'way.</p>
+
+<p>"De massa and missus was good to me but sometime I was so bad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> they had
+to whip me. I 'members she used to whip me every time she tell me to do
+something and I take too long to move 'long and do it. One time my
+missus went off on a visit and left me at home. When she come back,
+Sally told her that I put on a pair of Bubber's pants and scrub de floor
+wid them on. Missus told me it was a sin for me to put on a man's pants,
+and she whip me pretty bad. She say it's in de Bible dat: 'A man shall
+not put on a woman's clothes, nor a woman put on a man's clothes'. I
+ain't never see that in de Bible though, but from then 'til now, I ain't
+put on no more pants.</p>
+
+<p>"De grown-up slaves was punished sometime too. When they didn't feel
+like taking a whippin' they went off in de woods and stay 'til massa's
+hounds track them down; then they'd bring them out and whip them. They
+might as well not run away. Some of them never come back a-tall, don't
+know what become of them. We ain't had no jail for slaves; never ain't
+see none in chains neither. There was a guard-house right in de town but
+us niggers never was carried to it. You ask me if I ever see a slave
+auctioned off? Yes ma'am, one time. I see a little girl 'bout ten years
+old sold to a soldier man. Dis soldier man was married and didn't had no
+chillun and he buy dis little girl to be company for his wife and to
+help her wid de house work.</p>
+
+<p>"White folks never teach us to read nor write much. They learned us our
+A, B, C's, and teach us to read some in de testament. De reason they
+wouldn't teach us to read and write, was 'cause they was afraid de
+slaves would write their own pass and go over to a free county. One old
+nigger did learn enough to write his pass and got 'way wid it and went
+up North.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Missus Martha sho' did look after de slaves good when they was sick. Us
+had medicine made from herbs, leaves and roots; some of them was
+cat-nip, garlic root, tansy, and roots of burdock. De roots of burdock
+soaked in whiskey was mighty good medicine. We dipped asafetida in
+turpentine and hung it 'round our necks to keep off disease.</p>
+
+<p>"Befo' de Yankees come thru, our peoples had let loose a lot of our
+hosses and de hosses strayed over to de Yankee side, and de Yankee men
+rode de hosses back over to our plantation. De Yankees asked us if we
+want to be free. I never say I did; I tell them I want to stay wid my
+missus and they went on and let me alone. They 'stroyed most everything
+we had 'cept a little vittles; took all de stock and take them wid them.
+They burned all de buildings 'cept de one de massa and missus was livin'
+in.</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't long after de Yankees went thru dat our missus told us dat we
+don't b'long to her and de massa no more. None of us left dat season. I
+got married de next year and left her. I like being free more better.
+Any niggers what like slavery time better, is lazy people dat don't want
+to do nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"I married Fredrick Adams; he used to b'long to Miss Tenny Graddick but
+after he was freed he had to take another name. Mr. Jess Adams, a good
+fiddler dat my husband like to hang 'round, told him he could take his
+name if he wanted to and dats how he got de name of Adams. Us had four
+chillun; only one livin', dat Lula. She married John Entzminger and got
+several chillun. My gran'chillun a heap of comfort to me."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Home Address:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Colonial Heights,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Columbia, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FRANK ADAMSON</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I 'members when you was barefoot at de bottom; now I see you a settin'
+dere, gittin' bare at de top, as bare as de palm of my hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I's been 'possum huntin' wid your pappy, when he lived on de Wateree,
+just after de war. One night us got into tribulation, I tells you! 'Twas
+'bout midnight when de dogs make a tree. Your pappy climb up de tree,
+git 'bout halfway up, heard sumpin' dat once you hears it you never
+forgits, and dats de rattlin' of de rattles on a rattle snake's tail. Us
+both 'stinctly hear dat sound! What us do? Me on de ground, him up de
+tree, but where de snake? Dat was de misery, us didn't know. Dat snake
+give us fair warnin' though! Marster Sam (dats your pa) 'low: 'Frank,
+ease down on de ground; I'll just stay up here for a while.' I lay on
+them leaves, skeered to make a russle. Your pa up de tree skeered to go
+up or down! Broad daylight didn't move us. Sun come up, he look all
+'round from his vantage up de tree, then come down, not 'til then, do I
+gits on my foots.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I laugh and laugh and laugh, and ask Marster Sam how he felt.
+Marster Sam kinda frown and say: 'Damn I feels like hell! Git up dat
+tree! Don't you see dat 'possum up dere?' I say: 'But where de snake,
+Marster?' He say: 'Dat rattler done gone home, where me and you and dat
+'possum gonna be pretty soon!'</p>
+
+<p>"I b'longs to de Peays. De father of them all was, Korshaw Peay. My
+marster was his son, Nicholas; he was a fine man to just look at. My
+mistress was always tellin' him 'bout how fine and handsome-like he was.
+He must of got use to it; howsomever, marster grin every time she talk
+like dat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My pappy was bought from de Adamson peoples; they say they got him off
+de ship from Africa. He sho' was a man; he run all de other niggers 'way
+from my mammy and took up wid her widout askin' de marster. Her name was
+Lavinia. When us got free, he 'sisted on Adamson was de name us would go
+by. He name was William Adamson. Yes sir! my brothers was: Justus,
+Hillyard, and Donald, and my sisters was, Martha and Lizzettie.</p>
+
+<p>"'Deed I did work befo' freedom. What I do? Hoed cotton, pick cotton,
+'tend to calves and slop de pigs, under de 'vision of de overseer. Who
+he was? First one name Mr. Cary, he a good man. Another one Mr. Tim
+Gladden, burn you up whenever he just take a notion to pop his whip. Us
+boys run 'round in our shirt tails. He lak to see if he could lift de
+shirt tail widout techin' de skin. Just as often as not, though, he tech
+de skin. Little boy holler and Marster Tim laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Us live in quarters. Our beds was nailed to de sides of de house. Most
+of de chillun slept on pallets on de floor. Got water from a big spring.</p>
+
+<p>"De white folks 'tend to you all right. Us had two doctors, Doctor
+Carlisle and Doctor James.</p>
+
+<p>"I see some money, but never own any then. Had plenty to eat: Meat,
+bread, milk, lye hominy, horse apples, turnips, collards, pumpkins, and
+dat kind of truck.</p>
+
+<p>"Was marster rich? How come he wasn't? He brag his land was ten miles
+square and he had a thousand slaves. Them poor white folks looked up to
+him lak God Almighty; they sho' did. They would have stuck their hands
+in de fire if he had of asked them to do it. He had a fish pond on top
+of de house and terraces wid strawberries, all over de place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> See them
+big rock columns down dere now? Dats all dats left of his grandness and
+greatness. They done move de whippin' post dat was in de backyard. Yes
+sah, it was a 'cessity wid them niggers. It stood up and out to 'mind
+them dat if they didn't please de master and de overseer, they'd hug dat
+post, and de lend of dat whip lash gwine to flip to de hide of dat back
+of their's.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't a complainin'. He was a good master, bestest in de land, but he
+just have to have a whippin' post, 'cause you'll find a whole passle of
+bad niggers when you gits a thousand of them in one flock.</p>
+
+<p>"Screech owl holler? Women and men turn socks and stockings wrong side
+out quick, dat they did, do it now, myself. I's black as a crow but I's
+got a white folks heart. Didn't ketch me foolin' 'round wid niggers in
+radical times. I's as close to white folks then as peas in a pod. Wore
+de red shirt and drunk a heap of brandy in Columbia, dat time us went
+down to General Hampton into power. I 'clare I hollered so loud goin'
+'long in de procession, dat a nice white lady run out one of de houses
+down dere in Columbia, give me two biscuits and a drum stick of chicken,
+patted me on de shoulder, and say: 'Thank God for all de big black men
+dat can holler for Governor Hampton as loud as dis one does.' Then I
+hollers some more for to please dat lady, though I had to take de half
+chawed chicken out dis old mouth, and she laugh 'bout dat 'til she
+cried. She did!</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll be rockin' 'long balance of dese days, a hollerin' for Mr.
+Roosevelt, just as loud as I holler then for Hampton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My young marsters was: Austin, Tom, and Nicholas; they was all right
+'cept they tease you too hard maybe some time, and want to mix in wid de
+'fairs of slave 'musements.</p>
+
+<p>"Now what make you ask dat? Did me ever do any courtin'? You knows I
+did. Every he thing from a he king down to a bunty rooster gits cited
+'bout she things. I's lay wake many nights 'bout sich things. It's de
+nature of a he, to take after de she. They do say dat a he angel ain't
+got dis to worry 'bout.</p>
+
+<p>"I fust courted Martha Harrison. Us marry and jine de church. Us had
+nine chillun; seven of them livin'. A woman can't stand havin' chillun,
+lak a man. Carryin', sucklin', and 'tending to them wore her down, dat,
+wid de malaria of de Wateree brung her to her grave.</p>
+
+<p>"I sorrow over her for weeks, maybe five months, then I got to thinking
+how I'd pair up wid dis one and dat one and de other one. Took to
+shavin' again and gwine to Winnsboro every Saturday, and different
+churches every Sunday. I hear a voice from de choir, one Sunday, dat
+makes me sit up and take notice of de gal on de off side in front. Well
+sir! a spasm of fright fust hit me dat I might not git her, dat I was
+too old for de likes of her, and dat some no 'count nigger might be in
+de way. In a few minutes I come to myself. I rise right up, walked into
+dat choir, stand by her side, and wid dis voice of mine, dat always
+'tracts 'tention, jined in de hymn and out sung them all. It was easy
+from dat time on.</p>
+
+<p>"I marry Kate at de close of dat revival. De day after de weddin', what
+you reckon? Don't know? Well, after gittin' breakfas' she went to de
+field, poke 'round her neck, basket on her head and picked two hundred
+pounds of cotton. Dats de kind of woman she is."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1815-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>June 10, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by: Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<p>"I was born in Newberry County, S. C., near Belfast, about 1854. I was a
+slave of John Wallace. I was the only child, and when a small child, my
+mother was sold to Joe Liggins by my old master, Bob Adams. It is said
+that the old brick house where the Wallaces lived was built by a
+Eichleberger, but Dr. John Simpson lived there and sold it to Mr.
+Wallace. In the attic was an old skeleton which the children thought
+bewitched the house. None of them would go upstairs by themselves. I
+suppose old Dr. Simpson left it there. Sometimes later, it was taken out
+and buried. Marse Wallace had many slaves and kept them working, but he
+was not a strict master.</p>
+
+<p>"I married Allen Andrews after the war. He went to the war with his
+master. He was at Columbia with the Confederate troops when Sherman
+burnt the place. Some of them, my husband included, was captured and
+taken to Richmond Va. They escaped and walked back home, but all but
+five or six fell out or died.</p>
+
+<p>"My young master, Editor Bill Wallace, a son of Marse John, was a
+soldier. When he was sick at home, I fanned the flies from him with a
+home-made fan of peacock feathers, sewed to a long cane.</p>
+
+<p>"After the war, the 'bush-whackers', called Ku Klux, rode there.
+Preacher Pitts' brother was one. They went to negro houses and killed
+the people. They wore caps over the head and eyes, but no long white
+gowns. An old muster ground was above there about three miles, near what
+is now Wadsworth school."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Frances Andrews (col. 83), Newberry, S. C</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Sept. 22, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by: Elmer Turnage</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I live in a comfortable two-room cottage which my son owns. I can't do
+much work except a little washing and ironing. My grandchildren live
+with me. My other children help me a little when I need it. I heard
+about the 40 acres of land and a mule the ex-slaves would get after the
+war, but I didn't pay any attention to it. They never got anything. I
+think this was put out by the Yankees who didn't care about much 'cept
+getting money for themselves.</p>
+
+<p>"I come from the Indian Creek section of Newberry County. After about
+1880 when things got natural, some of the slaves from this section
+rented small one-horse farms and made their own money and living. Some
+would rent small tracts of land on shares, giving the landlord one-half
+the crop for use of the land.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything is changed so much. I never learned to read and write and
+all I know is what I heard in old times. But I think the younger
+generation of negroes is different from what they used to be. They go
+where they want to and do what they want to and don't pay much attention
+to old folks anymore.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother's mother come from Virginia and my mother's father was born
+and raised in this county. I don't remember anything about the Nat
+Turner Rebellion, and never heard anything about it. We never had any
+slave up-risings in our neighborhood."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Frances Andrews (83), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 8/11/37.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>District No. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 27, 1937.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>R. V. Williams</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: Lambright</b>]</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folk Lore: Folk Tales (negro)</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"I was 'bout nine year ole when de big war broke loose. My pa and ma
+'longed to de Scotts what libbed in Jonesville Township. When I got big
+'nough to work, I was gib to de youngest Scott boy. Soon atter dis,
+Sherman come through Union County. No ma'm, I nebber seed Sherman but I
+seed some of his soldiers. Dat's de time I run off in de wood and not
+narry a soul knowed whar I was till de dus' had done settled in de big
+road.</p>
+
+<p>"Every Sunday, Marse Scott sent us to church in one of his waggins.
+White folks rid to church in de buggy and Marse went on de big saddle
+hoss. 'Bout dis time, Marse Scott went to Columbia to git coffee and
+sugar. He stay mos' two weeks, kaize he drive two fine hosses to de
+buggy 'long wid a long hind end to fetch things to and fro in. De roads
+was real muddy and de hosses haf to res' ever night. Den in Columbia, he
+would have a little 'joyment befo' he come back home."</p>
+
+<p>Source: Miss Dorothy Lambright, W. Main St., Union, S. C. (Story told
+her by "Uncle Peter" Arthur.) Information by Caldwell Sims, Union, S.
+C.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, January 4, 1938</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. of Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>JOSEPHINE BACCHUS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 75-80 Years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"No, my mercy God, I don' know not one thought to speak to you bout.
+Seems like, I does know your face, but I been so sick all de year dat I
+can' hardly remember nothin. Yes, sweetheart, I sho caught on to what
+you want. Oh, I wishes I did know somethin bout dat old time war cause I
+tell you, if I been know anything, I would sho pour it out to you. I got
+burn out here de other day en I ain' got near a thing left me, but a
+pair of stockings en dat old coat dere on de bed. Dat how-come I stayin
+here wid Miss Celia. My husband, he dead en she took me in over here for
+de present. No'um, I haven't never had a nine months child. Reckon dat
+what ailin me now. Bein dat I never had no mother to care for me en give
+me a good attention like, I caught so much of cold dat I ain' never been
+safe in de family way. Yes, mam, I had my leg broke plenty times, but I
+ain' never been able to jump de time. Lord, I got a misery in my back
+dere. I hope it ain' de pneumonias."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see, I couldn' tell you nothin bout my mother cause I never
+didn' know nothin bout my mother. My Jesus, my brother tell bout when
+dey had my mother layin out on de coolin board, I went in de room whe'
+she was en axed her for somethin to eat en pushed her head dat way. You
+know, I wouldn' touch my hand to do nothin like dat, but I never know.
+Dat it, de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> coolin board, dat what dey used to have to lay all de dead
+people on, but dis day en time, de undertaker takes dem en fixes dem up
+right nice, I say. I tellin you, I ain' had no sense since I lost my
+people. Sometimes, I axes de Lord what he keepin me here for anyhow.
+Yes, mam, dat does come to me often times in de night. Oh, it don' look
+like I gwine ever get no better in dis life en if I don', I just prays
+to God to be saved. Yes, Lord, I prays to be lifted to a restful home."</p>
+
+<p>"Just like as I been hear talk, some of de people fare good in slavery
+time en some of dem fare rough. Dat been accordin to de kind of task
+boss dey come up under. Now de poor colored people in slavery time, dey
+give dem very little rest en would whip some of dem most to death.
+Wouldn' none of dem daresen to go from one plantation to another widout
+dey had a furlough from dey boss. Yes, mam, if dey been catch you comin
+back widout dat walkin paper de boss had give you, great Jeruseleum, you
+would sho catch de devil next mornin. My blessed a mercy, hear talk dey
+spill de poor nigger's blood awful much in slavery time. Hear heap of
+dem was free long time fore dey been know it cause de white folks, dey
+wanted to keep dem in bondage. Oh, my Lord, dey would cut dem so hard
+till dey just slash de flesh right off dem. Yes, mam, dey call dat thing
+dey been whip dem wid de cat o' nine tail. No, darlin, I hear talk it
+been made out of pretty leather plaited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> most all de way en den all dat
+part down to de bottom, dey just left it loose to do de cuttin wid. Yes,
+honey, dem kind of whips was made out of pretty leather like one of dese
+horse whips. Yes, mam, dat been how it was in slavery time."</p>
+
+<p>"Yankees! Oh, I hear folks speak bout de Yankees plunderin through de
+country plenty times. Hear bout de Yankees gwine all bout stealin white
+people silver. Say, everywhe' dey went en found white folks wid silver,
+dey would just clean de place up. Dat de blessed truth, too, cause dat
+exactly what I hear bout dem."</p>
+
+<p>"Lord, pray Jesus, de white people sho been mighty proud to see dey
+niggers spreadin out in dem days, so dey tell me. Yes, mam, dey was glad
+to have a heap of colored people bout dem cause white folks couldn' work
+den no more den dey can work dese days like de colored people can.
+Reckon dey love to have dey niggers back yonder just like dey loves to
+have dem dese days to do what dey ain' been cut out to do. You see, dey
+would have two or three women on de plantation dat was good breeders en
+dey would have chillun pretty regular fore freedom come here. You know,
+some people does be right fast in catchin chillun. Yes'um, dey must been
+bless wid a pile of dem, I say, en every colored person used to follow
+up de same name as dey white folks been hear to."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No'um, I never didn' go to none of dem cornshuckin en fodder pullin en
+all dem kind of thing. Reckon while dey was at de cornshuckin, I must
+been somewhe' huntin somethin to eat. Den dem kind of task was left to
+de men folks de most of de time cause it been so hot, dey was force to
+strip to do dat sort of a job."</p>
+
+<p>"Lord, I sho remembers dat earth shake good as anything. When it come on
+me, I was settin down wid my foots in a tub of water. Yes, my Lord, I
+been had a age on me in de shake. I remember, dere been such a shakin
+dat evenin, it made all de people feel mighty queer like. It just come
+in a tremble en first thing I know, I felt de difference in de crack of
+de house. I run to my sister Jessie cause she had been live in New York
+en she was well acquainted wid dat kind of gwine on. She say, 'Josie,
+dis ain' nothin but dem shake I been tellin you bout, but dis de first
+time it come here en you better be a prayin.' En, honey, everything
+white en colored was emptied out of doors dat night. Lord, dey was
+scared. Great Jeruseleum! De people was scared everywhe'. Didn' nobody
+know what to make of it. I tellin you, I betcha I was 30 years old in de
+shake."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I guess time you get done gettin up all dem memorandums, you gwine
+have a pile. I tell you, if you keep on, you sho gwine have a bale cause
+dere a lot of slavery people is spring up till now. I ought to could
+fetch back more to speak to you bout, but just like I been tell you, I
+wasn' never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> cared for by a mother en I is caught on to a heap of
+roughness just on account dat I ain' never had a mother to have a care
+for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, de people never didn' put much faith to de doctors in dem days.
+Mostly, dey would use de herbs in de fields for dey medicine. Dere two
+herbs, I hear talk of. Dey was black snake root en Sampson snake root.
+Say, if a person never had a good appetite, dey would boil some of dat
+stuff en mix it wid a little whiskey en rock candy en dat would sho give
+dem a sharp appetite. See, it natural cause if you take a tablespoon of
+dat bitter medicine three times a day like a person tell you, it bound
+to swell your appetite. Yes, mam, I know dat a mighty good mixture."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my Lord, child, de people was sho wiser in olden times den what dey
+be now. Dey been have all kind of signs to forecast de times wid en dey
+been mighty true to de word, too. Say, when you hear a cow low en cry so
+mournful like, it ain' gwine be long fore you hear tell of a death."</p>
+
+<p>"Den dere one bout de rain. Say, sometimes de old rain crow stays in de
+air en hollers en if you don' look right sharp, it gwine rain soon. Call
+him de rain crow. He hollers mostly like dis, 'Goo-oop, goo-oop.' Like
+dat."</p>
+
+<p>"De people used to have a bird for cold weather, too. Folks say, 'Don'
+you hear dat cold bird? Look out, it gwine be cold tomorrow.' De cold
+bird, he a brown bird. If you can see him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> he a fine lookin bird, too.
+Yes'um, right large en strong lookin, but don' nobody hardly ever see
+him dese days."</p>
+
+<p>"En I reckon you hear talk bout dis one. Say, not to wash on de first
+day of de New Year cause if you do, you will wash some of your family
+out de pot. Say, somebody will sho die. Dat right, too. Den if possible,
+must boil some old peas on de first day of de New Year en must cook some
+hog jowl in de pot wid dem. Must eat some of it, but don' be obliged to
+eat it all. En ought to have everything clean up nicely so as to keep
+clean all de year. Say, must always put de wash out on de line to be
+sure de day fore New Years en have all your garments clean."</p>
+
+<p>"What my ideas bout de young folks dese days? Well, dey young folks en
+dey ain' young folks, I say. Cose I don' bother up wid dem none, but I
+think wid my own weak judgment, dey quite different from when I come
+along. Folks is awful funny dis day en time to my notion. Don' care what
+people see dem do no time. I sho think dey worser den what dey used to
+be. De way I say dey worser, I used to have to be back at such en such a
+time, if I went off, but now dey go anytime dey want to en dey comes
+back anytime dey want to. I sho think dey worser. De fact of it, I know
+dey worser."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Josephine Bacchus, colored, age 75-80, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>June 14, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by: Elmer Turnage</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born near Winnsboro, S. C., Fairfield County. I was twelve years
+old the year the Confederate war started. My father was John Ballard and
+my mother was Sallie Ballard. I had several brothers and sisters. We
+belonged to Jim Aiken, a large landowner at Winnsboro. He owned land on
+which the town was built. He had seven plantations. He was good to us
+and give us plenty to eat, and good quarters to live in. His mistress
+was good, too; but one of his sons, Dr. Aiken, whipped some of de
+niggers, lots. One time he whipped a slave for stealing. Some of his
+land was around four churches in Winnsboro.</p>
+
+<p>"We was allowed three pounds o' meat, one quart o' molasses, grits and
+other things each week&mdash;plenty for us to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"When freedom come, he told us we was free, and if we wanted to stay on
+with him, he would do the best he could for us. Most of us stayed, and
+after a few months, he paid wages. After eight months, some went to
+other places to work.</p>
+
+<p>"The master's wife died and he married a daughter of Robert Gillam and
+moved to Greenville, S. C.</p>
+
+<p>"The master always had a very big garden with plenty of vegetables. He
+had fifty hogs, and I helped mind the hogs. He didn't raise much cotton,
+but raised lots of wheat and corn. He made his own meal and flour from
+the mill on the creek; made home-made clothes with cards and spinning
+wheels.</p>
+
+<p>"They cooked in wide chimneys in a kitchen which was away off from the
+big house. They used pots and skillets to cook with.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> The hands got
+their rations every Monday night. They got their clothes to wear which
+they made on old spinning wheels, and wove them themselves.</p>
+
+<p>"The master had his own tanyard and tanned his leather and made shoes
+for his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"He had several overseers, white men, and some Negro foremen. They
+sometimes whipped the slaves, that is the overseers. Once a nigger
+whipped the overseer and had to run away in the woods and live so he
+wouldn't get caught. The nigger foremen looked after a set of slaves on
+any special work. They never worked at night unless it was to bring in
+fodder or hay when it looked like rain was coming. On rainy days, we
+shucked corn and cleaned up around the place.</p>
+
+<p>"We had old brick ovens, lots of 'em. Some was used to make molasses
+from our own sugar cane we raised.</p>
+
+<p>"The master had a 'sick-house' where he took sick slaves for treatment,
+and kept a drug store there. They didn't use old-time cures much, like
+herbs and barks, except sassafras root tea for the blood.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn't learn to read and write, but some learned after the war.</p>
+
+<p>"My father run the blacksmith shop for the master on the place. I worked
+around the place. The patrollers were there and we had to have a pass to
+get out any. The nigger children sometimes played out in the road and
+were chased by patrollers. The children would run into the master's
+place and the patrollers couldn't get them 'cause the master wouldn't
+let them. We had no churches for slaves, but went to the white church
+and set in the gallery. After freedom, niggers built 'brush harbors' on
+the place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Slaves carried news from one plantation to another by riding mules or
+horses. They had to be in quarters at night. I remember my mother rode
+side-saddle one Saturday night. I reckon she had a pass to go; she come
+back without being bothered.</p>
+
+<p>"Some games children played was, hiding switches, marbles, and maybe
+others. Later on, some of de nigger boys started playing cards and got
+to gambling; some went to de woods to gamble.</p>
+
+<p>"The old cotton gins on de farms were made of wooden screws, and it took
+all day to gin four bales o' cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"I was one of the first trustees that helped build the first colored
+folks' church in the town of Greenwood. I am the only one now living. I
+married Alice Robinson, and had five sons and one daughter, and have
+five or six grandchildren.</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham Lincoln, I think, was a good man; had a big reputation. Couldn't
+tell much about Jefferson Davis. Booker T. Washington&mdash;Everybody
+thinks he is a great man for the colored race.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I think slavery was bad. We is free now and better off to
+work. I think anybody who is any count can work and live by himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I joined de church when I was 17 years old, because a big preaching was
+going on after freedom for the colored people.</p>
+
+<p>"I think everybody should join the church and do right; can't get
+anywhere without it, and do good."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: William Ballard (88), Greenwood, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewed by: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (6/10/37)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>CHARLEY BARBER</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Charley Barber lives in a shanty kind of house, situated on a plot of
+ground containing two acres all his own. It is a mile and a half
+southeast of Winnsboro, S. C. He lives with an anaemic daughter, Maggie,
+whose chief interests are a number of cats, about the premises, and a
+brindled, crumple-horned cow that she ties out to graze every morning
+and milks at evening.</p>
+
+<p>Charley is squat of figure, short neck, popeyed, and has white hair. He
+tills the two acres and produces garden truck that he finds a sale for
+among the employees of the Winnsboro mills, just across the railroad
+from his home. He likes to talk, and pricks up his ears,(so to speak),
+whenever anything is related as having occurred in the past. He will
+importune those present to hear his version of the event unusual.</p>
+
+<p>"Well sah, dis is a pleasure to have you call 'pon me, howsomever it be
+unexpected dis mornin'. Shoo! (driving the chickens out of the house)
+Shoo! Git out of here and go scratch a livin' for them chickens, dat's
+followin' you yet, and you won't wean and git to layin' again. Fust
+thing you know you'll be spoilin' de floor, when us is got company dis
+very minute. Scat! Maggie; git them cats out de chairs long 'nough for
+Mr. Wood to set in one whilst he's come to see me dis mornin'.</p>
+
+<p>"And dat's it? You wants me to talk over de days dat am gone? How dis
+come 'bout and how dat come 'bout, from de day I was born, to dis very
+hour? Let's light, up our smokestacks befo' us begin. Maybe you wants a
+drink of, water. Maggie, fetch de water here!</p>
+
+<p>"How old you think I is, sixty-five? My goodness! Do you hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> dat
+Maggie? (Rubbing his hands; his eyes shining with pleasure) Take another
+look and make another guess. Seventy-five? You is growin' warm but
+you'll have to come again!</p>
+
+<p>"Bless your soul Marse Wood, you know what old Mudder Shifton say? She
+'low dat: 'In de year 1881, de world to an end will surely come'. I was
+twenty-five years old when all de niggers and most of de white folks was
+believin' dat old lady and lookin' for de world to come to an end in
+1881. Dat was de year dat I jined de church, 'cause I wanted to make
+sure dat if de end did come, I'd be caught up in dat rapture dat de
+white Methodist preacher was preachin' 'bout and explainin' to my
+marster and mistress at deir house on de piazza dat year.</p>
+
+<p>"I is eighty-one years old. I was born up on de Wateree River, close to
+Great Falls. My marster was Ozmond Barber. My mistress was name Miss
+Elizabeth; her de wife of Marse Ozmond. My pappy was name Jacob. My
+mammy went by de name of Jemima. They both come from Africa where they
+was born. They was 'ticed on a ship, fetch 'cross de ocean to Virginny,
+fetch to Winnsboro by a slave drover, and sold to my marster's father.
+Dat what they tell me. When they was sailin' over, dere was five or six
+hundred others all together down under de first deck of de ship, where
+they was locked in. They never did talk lak de other slaves, could just'
+say a few words, use deir hands, and make signs. They want deir
+collards, turnips, and deir 'tators, raw. They lak sweet milk so much
+they steal it.</p>
+
+<p>"Pappy care-nothin' 'bout clothes and wouldn't wear shoes in de winter
+time or any time. It was 'ginst de law to bring them over here when they
+did, I learn since. But what is de law now and what was de law then,
+when bright shiny money was in sight? Money make de automobile go. Money
+make de train go. Money make de mare go, and at dat time I 'spect money
+make de ships go.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> Yes sir, they, my pappy and mammy, was just smuggled
+in dis part of de world, I bet you!</p>
+
+<p>"War come on, my marster went out as a captain of de Horse Marines. A
+tune was much sung by de white folks on de place and took wid de
+niggers. It went lak dis:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'I'm Captain Jenks of de Horse Marines</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I feed my horse on corn and beans.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh! I'm Captain Jenks of de Horse Marines</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And captain in de army!'"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"When de Yankees come they seem to have special vengeance for my white
+folks. They took everything they could carry off and burnt everything
+they couldn't carry off.</p>
+
+<p>"Mistress and de chillun have to go to Chester to git a place to sleep
+and eat, wid kinfolks. De niggers just lay 'round de place 'til master
+rode in, after de war, on a horse; him have money and friends and git
+things goin' agin. I stay on dere 'til '76. Then I come to Winnsboro and
+git a job as section hand laborer on de railroad. Out of de fust
+money,&mdash;(I git paid off de pay train then; company run a special pay
+train out of Columbia to Charlotte. They stop at every station and pay
+de hands off at de rear end of de train in cash). Well, as I was a
+sayin': Out de fust money, I buys me a red shirt and dat November I
+votes and de fust vote I put in de box was for Governor Wade Hampton.
+Dat was de fust big thing I done.</p>
+
+<p>"De nex' big thing I done was fall in love wid Mary Wylie. Dat come
+'bout on de second pay day. De other nigger gals say her marry me for my
+money but I never have believed it. White ladies do dat 'kalkilating'
+trick sometime but you take a blue-gum nigger gal, all wool on de top of
+her head and lak to dance and jig wid her foots, to pattin' and fiddle
+music, her ain't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> gonna have money in de back of her head when her pick
+out a man to marry. Her gonna want a man wid muscles on his arms and
+back and I had them. Usin' dat pick and shovel on de railroad just give
+me what it took to git Mary. Us had ten chillun. Some dead, some marry
+and leave. My wife die year befo' last. Maggie is puny, as you see, and
+us gits 'long wid de goodness of de Lord and de white folks.</p>
+
+<p>"I b'longs to de St. John Methodist Church in Middlesix, part of
+Winnsboro. They was havin' a rival (revival) meetin' de night of de
+earthquake, last day of August, in 1886. Folks had hardly got over de
+scare of 1881, 'bout de world comin' to an end. It was on Tuesday night,
+if I don't disremember, 'bout 9 o'clock. De preacher was prayin', just
+after de fust sermon, but him never got to de amen part of dat prayer.
+Dere come a noise or rumblin', lak far off thunder, seem lak it come
+from de northwest, then de church begin to rock lak a baby's cradle.
+Dere was great excitement. Old Aunt Melvina holler: 'De world comin' to
+de end'. De preacher say: 'Oh, Lordy', and run out of de pulpit.
+Everbody run out de church in de moonlight. When de second quake come,
+'bout a minute after de fust, somebody started up de cry: 'De devil
+under de church! De devil under de church! De devil gwine to take de
+church on his back and run away wid de church!' People never stop
+runnin' 'til they got to de court house in town. Dere they 'clare de
+devil done take St. John's Church on his back and fly away to hell wid
+it. Marse Henry Galliard make a speech and tell them what it was and beg
+them to go home. Dat Mr. Skinner, de telegraph man at de depot, say de
+main part of it was way down 'bout Charleston, too far away for anybody
+to git hurt here, 'less a brick from a chimney fall on somebody's head.
+De niggers mostly believes what a fine man, lak Marse Henry, tell them.
+De crowd git quiet. Some of them go home but many of them, down in de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
+low part of town, set on de railroad track in de moonlight, all night. I
+was mighty sleepy de nex' mornin' but I work on de railroad track just
+de same. Dat night folks come back to St. John's Church, find it still
+dere, and such a outpourin' of de spirit was had as never was had befo'
+or since.</p>
+
+<p>"Just think! Dat has been fifty-one years ago. Them was de glorious
+horse and buggy days. Dere was no air-ships, no autos and no radios.
+White folks had horses to drive. Niggers had mules to ride to a baseball
+game, to see white folks run lak de patarollers (patrollers) was after
+them and they holler lak de world was on fire."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>ED BARBER</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 77 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Ed Barber lives in a small one-room house in the midst of a cotton field
+on the plantation of Mr. A. M. Owens, ten miles southeast of Winnsboro,
+S. C. He lives alone and does his own cooking and housekeeping. He is a
+bright mulatto, has an erect carriage and posture, appears younger than
+his age, is intelligent and enjoys recounting the tales of his lifetime.
+His own race doesn't give him much countenance. His friends in the old
+days of reconstruction were white people. He presumes on such past
+affiliation and considers himself better than the full-blooded Negro.</p>
+
+<p>"It's been a long time since I see you. Maybe you has forgot but I ain't
+forgot de fust time I put dese lookers on you, in '76. Does you 'members
+dat day? It was in a piece of pines beyond de Presbyterian Church, in
+Winnsboro, S. C. Us both had red shirts. You was a ridin' a gray pony
+and I was a ridin' a red mule, sorrel like. You say dat wasn't '76?
+Well, how come it wasn't? Ouillah Harrison, another nigger, was dere,
+though he was a man. Both of us got to arguin'. He 'low he could vote
+for Hampton and I couldn't, 'cause I wasn't 21. You say it was '78
+'stead of '76, dat day in de pines when you was dere? Well! Well! I sho'
+been thinkin' all dis time it was '76.</p>
+
+<p>"'Member de fight dat day when Mr. Pole Barnadore knock Mr. Blanchard
+down, while de speakin' was a gwine on? You does? Well, us come to
+common 'greement on dat, bless God!</p>
+
+<p>"Them was scary times! Me bein' just half nigger and half white man, I
+knowed which side de butter was on de bread. Who I see dere? Well, dere
+was a string of red shirts a mile long, dat come into Winnsboro from
+White Oak. And another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> from Flint Hill, over de Pea Ferry road, a mile
+long. De bar-rooms of de town did a big business dat day. Seem lak it
+was de fashion to git drunk all 'long them days.</p>
+
+<p>"Them red shirts was de monkey wrench in de cotton-gin of de carpet bag
+party. I's here to tell you. If a nigger git hungry, all he have to do
+is go to de white folk's house, beg for a red shirt, and explain hisself
+a democrat. He might not git de shirt right then but he git his belly
+full of everything de white folks got, and de privilege of comin' to dat
+trough sometime agin.</p>
+
+<p>"You wants me to tell you 'bout who I is, where I born, and how old I
+is? Well, just cross examine me and I'll tell you de facts as best I
+knows how.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born twelve miles east of Winnsboro, S. C. My marster say it was
+de 18th of January, 1860.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother name Ann. Her b'long to my marster, James Barber. Dat's not a
+fair question when you ask me who my daddy was. Well, just say he was a
+white man and dat my mother never did marry nobody, while he lived. I
+was de onliest child my mother ever had.</p>
+
+<p>"After freedom my mother raised me on de Marse Adam Barber place, up by
+Rocky Mount and Mitford. I stayed dere 'til all de 'citement of politics
+die down. My help was not wanted so much at de 'lection boxes, so I got
+to roamin' 'round to fust one place and then another. But wheresomever I
+go, I kept a thinkin' 'bout Rosa and de ripe may-pops in de field in
+cotton pickin' time. I landed back to de Barber place and after a
+skirmish or two wid de old folks, marry de gal de Lord always 'tended
+for me to marry. Her name was Rosa Ford. You ask me if she was pretty?
+Dat's a strange thing. Do you ever hear a white person say a colored
+woman is pretty? I never have but befo' God when I was trampin' 'round
+Charleston, dere was a church dere called St. Mark, dat all de society
+folks of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> my color went to. No black nigger welcome dere, they told me.
+Thinkin' as how I was bright 'nough to git in, I up and goes dere one
+Sunday. Ah, how they did carry on, bow and scrape and ape de white
+folks. I see some pretty feathers, pretty fans, and pretty women dere! I
+was uncomfortable all de time though, 'cause they was too 'hifalootin'
+in de ways, in de singin', and all sorts of carryin' ons.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad you fetch me back to Rosa. Us marry and had ten chillun. Francis,
+Thompkins, William, Jim, Levi, Ab and Oz is dead. Katie marry a Boykin
+and is livin' in New York. My wife, Rosa, die on dis place of Mr. Owens.</p>
+
+<p>"I lives in a house by myself. I hoes a little cotton, picks plums and
+blackberries but dewberries 'bout played out.</p>
+
+<p>"My marster, James Barber, went through de Civil War and died. I begs
+you, in de name of de good white folks of '76 and Wade Hampton, not to
+forget me in dis old age pension business.</p>
+
+<p>"What I think of Abe Lincoln? I think he was a poor buckra white man, to
+de likes of me. Although, I 'spects Mr. Lincoln meant well but I can't
+help but wish him had continued splittin' them fence rails, which they
+say he knowed all 'bout, and never took a hand in runnin' de government
+of which he knowed nothin' 'bout. Marse Jeff Davis was all right, but
+him oughta got out and fought some, lak General Lee, General Jackson and
+'Poleon Bonaparte. Us might have won de war if he had turned up at some
+of de big battles lak Gettysburg, 'Chickenmaroger', and 'Applemattox'.
+What you think 'bout dat?</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sah, I has knowed a whole lot of good white men. Marse General
+Bratton, Marse Ed P. Mobley, Marse Will Durham, dat owned dis house us
+now settin' in, and Dr. Henry Gibson. Does I know any good colored men?
+I sho' does! Dere's Profes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>sor Benjamin Russell at Blackstock. You knows
+him. Then dere was Ouillah Harrison, dat own a four-hoss team and a
+saddle hoss, in red shirt days. One time de brass band at Winnsboro, S.
+C. wanted to go to Camden, S. C. to play at de speakin' of Hampton. He
+took de whole band from Winnsboro to Camden, dat day, free of charge.
+Ah! De way dat band did play all de way to Ridgeway, down de road to
+Longtown, cross de Camden Ferry, and right into de town. Dere was horns
+a blowin', drums a beatin', and people a shoutin': 'Hurrah for Hampton!'
+Some was a singin': 'Hang Dan Chamberlain on a Sour Apple Tree'. Ouillah
+come home and found his wife had done had a boy baby. What you reckon?
+He name dat boy baby, Wade Hampton. When he come home to die, he lay his
+hand on dat boy's head and say: 'Wade, 'member who you name for and
+always vote a straight out democrat ticket'. Which dat boy did!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>MILLIE BARBER</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Hope you find yourself well dis mornin', white folks. I's just common;
+'spect I eats too much yesterday. You know us celebrated yesterday,
+'cause it was de Fourth of July. Us had a good dinner on dis 2,000 acre
+farm of Mr. Owens. God bless dat white boss man! What would us old no
+'count niggers do widout him? Dere's six or seven, maybe eight of us out
+here over eighty years old. 'Most of them is like me, not able to hit a
+lick of work, yet he take care of us; he sho' does.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Owens not a member of de church but he allowed dat he done found
+out dat it more blessed to give than to receive, in case like us.</p>
+
+<p>"You wants to know all 'bout de slavery time, de war, de Ku Kluxes and
+everything? My tongue too short to tell you all dat I knows. However, if
+it was as long as my stockin's, I could tell you a trunk full of good
+and easy, bad and hard, dat dis old life-stream have run over in
+eighty-two years. I's hoping to reach at last them green fields of Eden
+of de Promise Land. 'Scuse me ramblin' 'round, now just ask me
+questions; I bet I can answer all you ask.</p>
+
+<p>"My pa name, Tom McCullough; him was a slave of old Marster John
+McCullough, whose big two-story house is de oldest in Fairfield County.
+It stands today on a high hill, just above de banks of Dutchman Creek.
+Big road run right by dat house. My mammy name, Nicie. Her b'long to de
+Weir family; de head of de family die durin' de war of freedom. I's not
+supposed to know all he done, so I'll pass over dat. My mistress name,
+Eliza; good mistress. Have you got down dere dat old marster just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> took
+sick and die, 'cause he wasn't touched wid a bullet nor de life slashed
+out of him wid a sword?</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my pa b'longin' to one man and my mammy b'longin' to another,
+four or five miles apart, caused some confusion, mix-up, and heartaches.
+My pa have to git a pass to come to see my mammy. He come sometimes
+widout de pass. Patrollers catch him way up de chimney hidin' one night;
+they stripped him right befo' mammy and give him thirty-nine lashes, wid
+her cryin' and a hollerin' louder than he did.</p>
+
+<p>"Us lived in a log house; handmade bedstead, wheat straw mattress,
+cotton pillows, plenty coverin' and plenty to eat, sich as it was. Us
+never git butter or sweet milk or coffee. Dat was for de white folks but
+in de summer time, I minds de flies off de table wid the peafowl feather
+brush and eat in de kitchen just what de white folks eat; them was very
+good eatin's I's here for to tell you. All de old slaves and them dat
+worked in de field, got rations and de chillun were fed at de kitchen
+out-house. What did they git? I 'members they got peas, hog meat, corn
+bread, 'lasses, and buttermilk on Sunday, then they got greens, turnips,
+taters, shallots, collards, and beans through de week. They were kept
+fat on them kind of rations.</p>
+
+<p>"De fact is I can't 'member us ever had a doctor on de place; just a
+granny was enough at child birth. Slave women have a baby one day, up
+and gwine 'round de next day, singin' at her work lak nothin' unusual
+had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"Did I ever git a whippin'? Dat I did. How many times? More than I can
+count on fingers and toes. What I git a whippin' for? Oh, just one
+thing, then another. One time I break a plate while washin' dishes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> and
+another time I spilt de milk on de dinin' room floor. It was always for
+somethin', sir. I needed de whippin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir, I had two brothers older than me; one sister older than me and
+one brother younger than me.</p>
+
+<p>"My young marster was killed in de war. Their names was Robert, Smith,
+and Jimmie. My young mistress, Sarah, married a Sutton and moved to
+Texas. Nancy marry Mr. Wade Rawls. Miss Janie marry Mr. Hugh Melving. At
+this marriage my mammy was give to Miss Janie and she was took to Texas
+wid her young baby, Isaiah, in her arms. I have never seen or heard tell
+of them from dat day to dis.</p>
+
+<p>"De Yankees come and burn de gin-house and barns. Open de smokehouse,
+take de meat, give de slaves some, shoot de chickens, and as de mistress
+and girls beg so hard, they left widout burnin' de dwellin' house.</p>
+
+<p>"My oldest child, Alice, is livin' and is fifty-one years old de 10th of
+dis last May gone. My first husband was Levi Young; us lived wid Mr.
+Knox Picket some years after freedom. We moved to Mr. Rubin Lumpkin's
+plantation, then to George Boulwares. Well, my husband die and I took a
+fool notion, lak most widows, and got into slavery again. I marry Prince
+Barber; Mr. John Hollis, Trial Justice, tied de knot. I loved dat young
+nigger more than you can put down dere on paper, I did. He was black and
+shiny as a crow's wing. Him was white as snow to dese old eyes. Ah, the
+joy, de fusses, de ructions, de beatin's, and de makin' ups us had on de
+Ed Shannon place where us lived. Us stay dere seven long years.</p>
+
+<p>"Then de Klu Kluxes comed and lak to scared de life out of me. They ask
+where Prince was, searched de house and go away. Prince come home 'bout
+daylight. Us took fright, went to Marster Will Durham's and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> asked for
+advice and protection. Marster Will Durham fixed it up. Next year us
+moved to dis place, he own it then but Marster Arthur Owens owns it now.
+Dere is 2,000 acres in dis place and another 1,000 acres in de Rubin
+Lumpkin place 'joinin' it.</p>
+
+<p>"Prince die on dis place and I is left on de mercy of Marster Arthur,
+livin' in a house wid two grandchillun, James twelve years, and John
+Roosevelt Barber, eight years old. Dese boys can work a little. They can
+pick cotton and tote water in de field for de hands and marster say:
+'Every little help'.</p>
+
+<p>"My livin' chillun ain't no help to me. Dere's Willie, I don't know
+where he is. Prince is wid Mr. Freeman on de river. Maggie is here on de
+place but she no good to me.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'spect when I gits to drawin' down dat pension de white folks say is
+comin', then dere will be more folks playin' in my backyard than dere is
+today."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>ANDERSON BATES</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 87 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Anderson Bates lives with his son-in-law and daughter, Ed and Dora
+Owens, in a three-room frame house, on lands of Mr. Dan Heyward, near
+the Winnsboro Granite Company, Winnsboro, S. C. Anderson and his wife
+occupy one of the rooms and his rent is free. His son-in-law has regular
+employment at the Winnsboro Cotton Mills. His wife, Carrie, looks after
+the house. Anderson and his daughter, Dora, are day laborers on the
+neighborhood farms, but he is able to do very little work.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born on de old Dr. Furman place, near Jenkinsville, S. C., in de
+year, 1850. My pappy was name Nat and mammy name Winnie. They was slaves
+of old Dr. Furman, dat have a big plantation, one hundred slaves, and a
+whole lot of little slave chillun, dat him wouldn't let work. They run
+'round in de plum thickets, blackberry bushes, hunt wild strawberries,
+blow cane whistles, and have a good time.</p>
+
+<p>"De old Dr. Furman house is ramshackle but it is still standin' out dere
+and is used as a shelter for sawmill hands dat is cuttin' down de big
+pines and sawin' them on de place.</p>
+
+<p>"Where did my pappy and mammy come from? Mammy was born a slave in de
+Furman family in Charleston, but pappy was bought out of a drove dat a
+Baltimore speculator fetch from Maryland long befo' de war. Doctor
+practice all 'round and 'bout Monticello, happen 'long one day, see my
+pappy and give a thousand dollars for him, to dat speculator. I thank
+God for dat!</p>
+
+<p>"Dr. Furman, my old marster, have a brudder called Jim, dat run de
+Furman School, fust near Winnsboro, then it move to Greenville, S. C.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My mistress name Nancy. Her was of de quality. Her voice was soft and
+quiet to de slaves. Her teach us to sing:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Dere is a happy land, far, far 'way,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where bright angels stand, far, far 'way,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh! How them angels sing!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh! How them bells ring!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In dat happy land, far, far 'way!'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was over a thousand acres, maybe two thousand in dat old Furman
+place. Them sawmill folks give $30,000.00 for it, last year.</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy and mammy was field hands. My brudders and sisters was:
+Liddie, Millie, Ria, Ella, Harriet, Thomas, Smith, and Marshall. All
+dead but me and Marshall.</p>
+
+<p>"I was fifteen when de Yankees come thru. They took off everything,
+hosses, mules, cows, sheep, goats, turkeys, geese, and chickens. Hogs?
+Yes sah, they kill hogs and take off what parts they want and leave
+other parts bleedin' on de yard. When they left, old marster have to go
+up into Union County for rations.</p>
+
+<p>"Dat's funny, you wants to set down dere 'bout my courtship and weddin'?
+Well, sir, I stay on de old plantation, work for my old marster, de
+doctor, and fell head over heels in love wid Carrie. Dere was seven more
+niggers a flyin' 'round dat sugar lump of a gal in de night time when I
+breezes in and takes charge of de fireside cheer. I knocks one down one
+night, kick another out de nex' night, and choke de stuffin' out of one
+de nex' night. I landed de three-leg stool on de head of de fourth one,
+de last time. Then de others carry deir 'fections to some other place
+than Carrie's house. Us have some hard words 'bout my bad manners, but I
+told her dat I couldn't 'trol my feelin's wid them fools a settin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
+'round dere gigglin' wid her. I go clean crazy!</p>
+
+<p>"Then us git married and go to de ten-acre quarry wid Mr. Anderson. I
+work dere a while and then go to Captain Macfie, then to his son, Wade,
+and then to Marse Rice Macfie. Then I go back to de quarry, drill and
+git out stone. They pay me $3.50 a day 'til de Parr Shoals Power come in
+wid 'lectric power drills and I was cut down to eighty cents a day. Then
+I say: 'Old grey hoss! Damn 'lectric toolin', I's gwine to leave.' I
+went to Hopewell, Virginia, and work wid de DuPonts for five years. War
+come on and they ask me to work on de acid area. De atmosphere dere tear
+all de skin off my face and arms, but I stuck it out to de end of de big
+war, for $7.20 a day. I drunk a good deal of liquor then, but I sent
+money to Carrie all de time and fetch her a roll every fourth of July
+and on Christmas. After de war they dismantle de plant and I come back
+to work for Mr. Eleazer, on de Saluda River for $2.00 a day, for five
+years.</p>
+
+<p>"Carrie have chillun by me. Dere was Anderson, my son, ain't see him in
+forty years. Essie, my daughter, marry Herbert Perrin. Dora, another
+daughter, marry Ed Owens. Ed makes good money workin' at de factory in
+Winnsboro. They have seven chillun. Us tries to keep them chillun in
+school but they don't have de good times I had when a child, a eatin'
+cracklin' bread and buttermilk, liver, pig-tails, hog-ears and turnip
+greens.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I 'member anything 'bout de Klu Kluxes? Jesus, yes! My old
+marster, de doctor, in goin' 'round, say out loud to people dat Klu
+Kluxes was doin' some things they ought not to do, by 'stortin' money
+out of niggers just 'cause they could.</p>
+
+<p>"When he was gone to Union one day, a low-down pair of white men come,
+wid false faces, to de house and ask where Dick Bell was. Miss Nancy say
+her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> don't know. They go hunt for him. Dick made a bee-line for de
+house. They pull out hoss pistols, fust time, 'pow'. Dick run on, secon'
+time, 'pow'. Dick run on, third time, 'pow' and as Dick reach de front
+yard de ball from de third shot keel him over lak a hit rabbit. Old miss
+run out but they git him. Her say: 'I give you five dollars to let him
+'lone.' They say: 'Not 'nough.' Her say: 'I give you ten dollars.' They
+say: 'Not 'nough.' Her say: 'I give you fifteen dollars.' They say: 'Not
+'nough.' Her say: 'I give you twenty-five dollars.' They take de money
+and say: 'Us'll be back tomorrow for de other Dick.' They mean Dick
+James.</p>
+
+<p>"Nex' day, us see them a comin' again. Dick James done load up de
+shotgun wid buckshot. When they was comin' up de front steps, Uncle Dick
+say to us all in de big house: 'Git out de way!' De names of de men us
+find out afterwards was Bishop and Fitzgerald. They come up de steps,
+wid Bishop in de front. Uncle Dick open de door, slap dat gun to his
+shoulder, and pull de trigger. Dat man Bishop hollers: 'Oh Lordy.' He
+drop dead and lay dere 'til de coroner come. Fitzgerald leap 'way. They
+bring Dick to jail, try him right in dat court house over yonder. What
+did they do wid him? Well, when Marse Bill Stanton, Marse Elisha
+Ragsdale and Miss Nancy tell 'bout it all from de beginnin' to de end,
+de judge tell de jury men dat Dick had a right to protect his home, and
+hisself, and to kill dat white man and to turn him loose. Dat was de end
+of de Klu Kluxes in Fairfield."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>From Field Notes</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>April 28. 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (negro)</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I sho members when de soldiers come home from de war. All de women
+folks, both black as well as white wuz so glad to see 'em back dat we
+jus jumped up and hollered 'Oh, Lawdy, God bless you.' When you would
+look around a little, you would see some widout an arm or maybe dey
+would be a walkin' wid a cruch or a stick. Den you would cry some widout
+lettin your white folks see you. But Jane, de worsest time of all fer us
+darkies wuz when de Ku Klux killed Dan Black. We wuz little chilluns a
+playin' in Dans house. We didn't know he had done nothin' ginst de white
+folks. Us wuz a playin by de fire jus as nice when something hit on de
+wall. Dan, he jump up and try to git outten de winder. A white spooky
+thing had done come in de doo' right by me. I was so scairt dat I could
+not git up. I had done fell straight out on de flo'. When Dan stick his
+head outten dat winder something say bang and he fell right down in de
+flo'. I crawles under de bed. When I got dar, all de other chilluns wuz
+dar to, lookin' as white as ashed dough from hickory wood. Us peeped out
+and den us duck under de bed agin. Ain't no bed ebber done as much good
+as dat one. Den a whole lot of dem come in de house. De wuz all white
+and scairy lookin'. It still makes de shivvers run down my spine and
+here I is ole and you all a settin' around wid me and two mo' wars done
+gone since dat awful time. Dan Black, he wo'nt no mo' kaise dey took dat
+nigger and hung him to a simmon tree. Dey would not let his folks take
+him down either. He jus stayed dar till he fell to pieces.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"After dat when us chilluns seed de Ku Klux a comin', us would take an'
+run breakneck speed to de nearest wood. Dar we would stay till dey wuz
+plum out o' sight and you could not even hear de horses feet. Dem days
+wuz worse'n de war. Yes Lawd, dey wuz worse'n any war I is ebber heard
+of.</p>
+
+<p>"Was not long after dat fore de spooks wuz a gwine round ebber whar.
+When you would go out atter dark, somethin' would start to a haintin'
+ye. You would git so scairt dat you would mighty ni run every time you
+went out atter dark; even iffin you didn't see nothin'. Chile, don't axe
+me what I seed. Atter all dat killin' and a burnin' you know you wuz
+bliged to see things wid all dem spirits in distress a gwine all over de
+land. You see, it is like dis, when a man gits killed befo he is done
+what de good Lawd intended fer him to do, he comes back here and tries
+to find who done him wrong. I mean he don' come back hisself, but de
+spirit, it is what comes and wanders around. Course, it can't do
+nothin', so it jus scares folks and haints dem."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: "Aunt" Millie Bates, 25 Hamlet street, Union, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Murrells Inlet, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Georgetown County</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>VISIT WITH UNCLE WELCOME BEES&mdash;AGE 104 YEARS</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>The road is perfectly camouflaged from the King's Highway by wild plums
+that lap overhead. Only those who have traveled this way before could
+locate the 'turn in' to Uncle Welcome's house. When you have turned in
+and come suddenly out from the plum thicket you find your road winding
+along with cultivated patches on the left&mdash;corn and peas&mdash;a fenced-in
+garden, the palings riven out by hand, and thick dark woods on the left.
+A lonesome, untenanted cabin is seemingly in the way but your car swings
+to the left instead of climbing the door-step and suddenly you find you
+are facing a bog. The car may get through; it may not. So you switch off
+and just sit a minute, seeing how the land lies. A great singing and
+chopping of wood off to the left have kept the inmates from hearing the
+approach of a car. When you rap therefore you hear, 'Come in'.</p>
+
+<p>A narrow hall runs through to the back porch and off this hall on your
+right opens a door from beyond which comes a very musical squeaking&mdash;you
+know a rocking chair is going hard&mdash;even before you see it in motion
+with a fuzzy little head that rests on someone's shoulder sticking over
+the top. And the fuzzy head which in size is like a small five-cent
+cocoanut, belongs to Uncle Welcome's great-grand. On seeing a visitor
+the grand, the mother of the infant, rises and smiles greeting, and,
+learning your errand, points back to the kitchen to show where Uncle
+Welcome sits. You step down one step and ask him if you may come in and
+he pats a chair by his side. The old man isn't so spry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> as he was when
+you saw him in the fall; the winter has been hard. But here it is warm
+again and at most four in the April afternoon, he sits over his plate of
+hopping John&mdash;he and innumerable flies. At his feet, fairly under the
+front of a small iron stove, sits another great-grand with a plate of
+peas between her legs. Peas and rice, 'hopping John'. (Someone says peas
+and hominy cooked together makes "limping Lizzie in the Low-Country."
+But that is another story.)</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Uncle Welcome, isn't Uncle Jeemes Stuart the oldest liver on Sandy
+Island?" Welcome: "Jeemes Stuart? I was married man when he born. Jeemes
+rice-field. (Worker in rice-field) posed himself. In all kinds of
+weather. Cut you down, down, down. Jeemes second wife gal been married
+before but her husband dead.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't tell the date or time I born. Your Maussa (Master) take it
+down. When I been marry, Dr. Ward Fadder (Father) aint been marry yet.
+My mother had twelve head born Oatland. He bought my mother from
+Virginia. Dolly. Sam her husband name. Sam come from same course. When
+my mother been bought, her been young woman. Work in rice. Plow right
+now (Meaning April is time to plow rice fields). I do carpenter work and
+mind horse for plantation. Come from Georgetown in boat. Have you own
+carriage. Go anywhere you want to go. Oatland church build for colored
+people and po-buckra. I helped build that church. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> boss man, Mr.
+Bettman. My son Isaac sixty-nine. If him sixty-nine, I one hundred four.
+That's my record. Maussa didn't low you to marry till you twenty-two.
+Ben Allston own Turkey Hill. When him dead, I was twelve years old. Me!
+(Knocking his chest)"</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Welcome Bees&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Parkersville, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Near Waverly Mills, S. C.)</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Age 104.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>ANNE BELL</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: (near Winnsboro, S. C.)</b>]</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Anne Bell lives with her niece, in a one-room annex to a two-room frame
+house, on the plantation of Mr. Lake Howze, six miles west of Winnsboro,
+S. C. Her niece's husband, Golden Byrd, is a share-cropper on Mr.
+Howze's place. The old lady is still spry and energetic about the cares
+of housekeeping and attention to the small children of her niece. She is
+a delightful old lady and well worth her keep in the small chores she
+undertakes and performs in the household.</p>
+
+<p>"My marster was John Glazier Rabb; us call him Marse Glazier. My
+mistress was Nancy Kincaid Watts; us call her Miss Nancy. They lived on
+a big plantation in Fairfield County and dere I come into dis world,
+eighty-three years ago, 10th day of April past.</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy name just Andy but after de freedom, he took de name of Andrew
+Watts. My old mammy was Harriett but she come to you if you calls her
+Hattie. My brudders was Jake and Rafe. My sister name Charity. They all
+dead and gone to glory long time ago; left me here 'lone by myself and
+I's settin' here tellin' you 'bout them.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy was de cook at de 'Big House' for marster, Miss Nancy, and de
+chillun. Let me see if I can call them over in my mind. Dere was Marse
+John, went off to de war, color bearer at Seven Pines. Yes sir, him was
+killed wid de colors a flyin' in his hand. Heard tell of it many times.
+He lies right now in de old Buck Church graveyard. De pine trees, seven
+of them, cry and sob 'round him every August 6th; dat's de day he was
+killed. Oh, my God!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Marse James went wid old Colonel Rion. They say he got shot but bullets
+couldn't kill him. No, bless God! Him comed back. Then come Marse
+Clarence. He went wid Captain Jim Macfie, went through it all and didn't
+get a scratch. Next was Miss Jesse. Then come Marse Horace, and Miss
+Nina. Us chillun all played together. Marse Horace is livin' yet and is
+a fine A. R.P. preacher of de Word. Miss Nina a rich lady, got
+plantation but live 'mong de big bugs in Winnsboro. She married Mr.
+Castles; she is a widow now. He was a good man, but he dead now.</p>
+
+<p>"De one I minds next, is Charlie. I nussed him. He married Colonel
+Province's daughter. Dat's all I can call to mind, right now.</p>
+
+<p>"Course de white folks I b'longs to, had more slaves than I got fingers
+and toes; whole families of them. De carpenter and de blacksmith on de
+place made de bedsteads. Us had good wheat straw mattresses to sleep on;
+cotton quilts, spreads, and cotton pillows. No trouble to sleep but it
+was hard to hear dat white overseer say at day break: 'Let me hear them
+foots hit de floor and dat befo' I go! Be lively! Hear me?' And you had
+to answer, 'Yas sah', befo' he'd move on to de nex' house. I does
+'member de parts of de bed, was held together by wooden pins. I sho'
+'members dat!</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy Harriett was de cook. I didn't done no work but 'tend to de
+chillun and tote water.</p>
+
+<p>"Money? Go 'way from here, boss! Lord, no sir, I never saw no money.
+What I want wid it anyhow?</p>
+
+<p>"How did they feed us? Had better things to eat then, than now and more
+different kind of somethin's. Us had pears, 'lasses, shorts, middlings
+of de wheat, corn bread, and all kinds of milk and vegetables.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Got a whuppin' once. They wanted me to go after de turkeys and I didn't
+want to go past de graveyard, where de turkeys was. I sho' didn't want
+to go by them graves. I's scared now to go by a graveyard in de dark. I
+took de whuppin' and somebody else must have got de turkeys. Sho' I
+didn't drive them up!</p>
+
+<p>"Slaves spun de thread, loomed de cloth, and made de clothes for de
+plantation. Don't believe I had any shoes. I was just a small gal anyhow
+then, didn't need them and didn't want them.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I's seen nigger women plow. Church? I wouldn't fool you, all de
+slaves big enough and not sick, had to go to church on de Sabbath.</p>
+
+<p>"They give us a half Saturday, to do as we like.</p>
+
+<p>"I was 'bout ten years old when de Yankees come. They was full to de
+brim wid mischief. They took de frocks out de presses and put them on
+and laugh and carry on powerful. Befo' they went they took everything.
+They took de meat and 'visions out de smoke-house, and de 'lasses,
+sugar, flour, and meal out de house. Killed de pigs and cows, burnt de
+gin-house and cotton, and took off de live stock, geese, chickens and
+turkeys.</p>
+
+<p>"After de freedom, I stayed on wid mammy right dere, 'til I married Levi
+Bell. I's had two chillun. Dis my grand-daughter, I visitin'. I never
+'spects to have as good a home as I had in slavery time, 'til I gits my
+title to dat mansion in de sky. Dats de reason I likes to sing dat old
+plantation spiritual, 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot, Jesus Gwinter Carry me
+Home'. Does I believe in 'ligion? What else good for colored folks? I
+ask you if dere ain't a heaven, what's colored folks got to look forward
+to? They can't git anywhere down here. De only joy they can have here,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>
+is servin' and lovin'; us can git dat in 'ligion but dere is a limit to
+de nigger in everything else. Course I knows my place in dis world; I
+'umbles myself here to be 'zalted up yonder."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>July 26, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>SLAVERY REMINISCENCES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was raised in the wood across the road about 200 yards from here. I
+was very mischievous. My parents were honest and were Christians. I
+loved them very much. My father was William Bevis, who died at the age
+of eighty. Miss Zelia Hames of Pea Ridge was my mother. My parents are
+buried at Bethlehem Methodist Church. I was brought up in Methodism and
+I do not know anything else. I had two brothers and four sisters. My
+twin sister died last April 1937. She was Fannie Holcombe. I was in bed
+with pneumonia at the time of her death and of course I could not go to
+the funeral. For a month, I was unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was a little girl I played 'Andy-over' with a ball, in the
+moonlight. Later I went to parties and dances. Calico, chambric and
+gingham were the materials which our party dresses were made of.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandmother, Mrs. Phoebe Bevis used to tell Revolutionary stories
+and sing songs that were sung during that period. Grandmother knew some
+Tories. She always told me that old Nat Gist was a Tory ... that is the
+way he got rich.</p>
+
+<p>"Hampton was elected governor the morning my mother died. Father went in
+his carriage to Jonesville to vote for Hampton. We all thought that
+Hampton was fine.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was a school girl I used the blue back speller. My sweetheart's
+name was Ben Harris. We went to Bethlehem to school. Jeff and Bill
+Harris were our teachers. I was thirteen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> We went together for six
+years. The Confederate War commenced. He was very handsome. He had black
+eyes and black hair. I had seven curls on one side of my head and seven
+on the other. He was twenty-four when he joined the 'Boys of Sixteen'.</p>
+
+<p>"He wanted to marry me then, but father would not let us marry. He
+kissed me good bye and went off to Virginia. He was a picket and was
+killed while on duty at Mars Hill. Bill Harris was in a tent nearby and
+heard the shot. He brought Ben home. I went to the funeral. I have never
+been much in-love since then.</p>
+
+<p>"I hardly ever feel sad. I did not feel especially sad during the war. I
+made socks, gloves and sweaters for the Confederate soldiers and also
+knitted for the World War soldiers. During the war, there were three
+looms and three shuttles in our house.</p>
+
+<p>"I went often to the muster grounds at Kelton to see the soldiers drill
+and to flirt my curls at them. Pa always went with me to the muster
+field. Once he invited four recruits to dine with us. We had a delicious
+supper. That was before the Confederacy was paralyzed. Two darkies
+waited on our table that night, Dorcas and Charlotte. A fire burned in
+our big fireplace and a lamp hung over the table. After supper was over,
+we all sat around the fire in its flickering light.</p>
+
+<p>"My next lover was Jess Holt and he was drowned in the Mississippi
+River. He was a carpenter and was building a warf on the river. He fell
+in and was drowned in a whirlpool."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Miss Caroline Bevis (W. 96), County Home, Union, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/13/37)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, June 21, 1937</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>MAGGIE BLACK</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 79 years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Honey, I don' know wha' to tell yuh 'bout dem times back dere. Yuh see
+I wus jes uh young child when de free war close en I ain' know much to
+tell yuh. I born o'er de river dere to Massa Jim Wilkerson plantation.
+Don' know wha' 'come uv my ole Massa chillun a'ter dey head been gone.
+Yuh see, honey, Massa Jim Wilkerson hab uh heap uv slave en he hire my
+mudder out to Colonel Durant place right down de road dere whey Miss
+Durant lib now. Coase I been back o'er de river to visit 'mongest de
+peoples dere a'ter freedom wuz 'clare, but I ain' ne'er lib dere no
+more."</p>
+
+<p>"Gawd been good to me, honey. I been heah uh long ole time en I can' see
+mucha dese days, but I gettin' 'long sorta so-so. I wuz train up to be
+uh nu'se 'oman en I betcha I got chillun more den any 60 year ole 'bout
+heah now dat I nu'se when dey wuz fust come heah. No, honey, ain' got no
+chillun uv me own. Aw my chillun white lak yuh."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no'mam, dey wear long ole frock den en uh girl comin' on dere when
+dey ge' to be any kind uv uh girl, dey put dat frock down. Oh, my child,
+dey can' ge' em short 'nough dese days. Ain' hab nuthin but uh string on
+dese day en time. Dey use'er wear dem big ole hoop skirt dat sit out
+broad lak from de ankle en den dey wear little panty dat show down twixt
+dey skirt en dey ankle. Jes tie em 'round dey knees wid some sorta
+string en le' em show dat way 'bout<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> dey ankle. I 'member we black
+chillun'ud go in de woods en ge' wild grape vine en bend em round en put
+em under us skirt en make it stand out big lak. Hadder hab uh big ole
+ring fa de bottom uv de skirt en den one uh little bit smaller eve'y
+time dey ge' closer to de waist. Ne'er hab none tall in de waist cause
+dat wuz s'ppose to be little bitty t'ing."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey weave aw de cloth dey use den right dere on de plantation. Wear
+cotton en woolens aw de time den. Coase de Madam, she could go en ge' de
+finest kind uv silk cause mos' uv her t'ing come from 'broad. Child, I
+c'n see my ole mammy how she look workin' dat spinning wheel jes us good
+uz ef dat day wuz dis day right heah. She set dere at dat ole spinning
+wheel en take one shettle en t'row it one way en den annuder de udder
+way en pull dat t'ing en make it tighter en tighter. Sumptin say zum,
+zum, zum, en den yuh hadder work yuh feet dere too. Dat wuz de way dey
+make dey cloth dat day en time."</p>
+
+<p>"Honey, peoples hadder work dey hand fa eve'yt'ing dey hab mos' den. Dey
+grew dey own rice right dere on de plantation in dem days. Hadder plant
+it on some uv de land wha' wuz weter den de udder land wuz. Dey hadder
+le' de rice ge' good en ripe en den dey'ud cut it en hab one uv dem big
+rice whipping days. Heap uv people come from plantation aw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> 'bout en
+help whip dat rice. Dey jes take de rice en beat it 'cross some hoes dat
+dey hab fix up somewhey dere on de plantation. Honey, dey hab hoss jes
+lak dese hoss yuh see carpenter use 'boat heah dese days. Dey'ud hab
+hundreds uv bushels uv dat rice dere. Den when dey ge' t'rough, dey hab
+big supper dere fa aw dem wha' whip rice. Gi'e em aw de rice en hog head
+dey is e'er wan'. Man, dey'ud hab de nicest kind uv music dere. Knock
+dem bones togedder en slap en pat dey hands to aw kind uv pretty tune."</p>
+
+<p>"Dem dey hab rice mortars right dere on de plantation wha' dey fix de
+rice in jes uz nice. Now dey hab to take it to de mill. Yuh see dey hab
+uh big block outer in de yard wid uh big hole in it dat dey put de rice
+in en take dese t'ing call pestles en beat down on it en dat wha' knock
+de shaft offen it. Coase dey ne'er hab no nice pretty rice lak yuh see
+dese days cause it wusn't uz white uz de rice dat dey hab 'boat heah dis
+day en time, but it wuz mighty sweet rice, honey, mighty sweet rice."</p>
+
+<p>"No'mam, didn't hab no schools tall den. Ne'er gi'e de colored peoples
+no l'arnin' no whey 'fore freedom 'clare. Wha' little l'arnin' come my
+way wuz wha' I ge' when I stay wid Miss Martha Leggett down dere to
+Leggett's Mill Pond. A'ter freedom 'clare, uh lady from de north come
+dere en Miss Leggett send we chillun to school to dat lady up on de hill
+dere in de woods. No, honey, yah ain' ne'er see no bresh tent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> 'bout
+heah dis day en time. Dis jes de way it waz make. Dey dig four big holes
+en put postes in aw four corner 'bout lak uh room. Den dey lay log
+'cross de top uv dat en kiver it aw o'er wid bresh (brush) dat dey break
+outer de woods. Ne'er hab none uv de side shet up. En dey haul log dere
+en roll em under dat bresh tent fa we chillun to set on. Oh, de
+teacher'ud hab uh big box fa her stand jes lak uh preacher. Eve'ybody
+dat go to school dere hab one uv dem t'ing call slate dat yah ne'er
+hadder do nuthin but jes wash it offen. En dey hab dese ole l'arnin'
+book wha' yuh call Websters."</p>
+
+<p>"My white folks al'ays waz good to me, honey. Ne'er didn't nab to do no
+field work in aw me life. When I stay dere wid Miss Leggett, I hadder
+pick up little chip 'bout de yard when I fust come home from school en
+den I hadder go 'way up in de big field en drib de turkeys up. We didn't
+find dat no hard t'ing to do lak de peoples talk lak it sumptin hard to
+do dese days. We wuz l'arnt to work en didn't mind it neither. Al'ays
+minded to us own business."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, gourds waz de t'ing in dem days. Dey waz wha' de peoples hab to
+drink outer en wash dey hominy en rice in aw de time. Dey was de bestest
+kind uv bowl fa we chillun to eat corn bread en clabber outer. Peoples
+dis day en time don' hab no sech crockery lak de people use'er hab.
+Honey, day hab de prettiest little clay bowls den."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Annuder t'ing de peoples do den dat yuh ain' ne'er hear 'bout nobody
+doing dese days, dey al'ays boil sumptin fa dey cows to eat lak peas en
+corn in uh big ole black pot somewhey dere in de back lot. Coase it wuz
+jes half cooked, but day sho' done dat. Nobody ne'er t'ought 'bout not
+cookin' fa dey cow den."</p>
+
+<p>"Dat was sho' uh different day from dis, honey. De little chillun wus
+jes uz foolish den cause de peoples ne'er tell dem 'bout nuthin tall in
+dat day en time. Aw dese little chillun 'bout heah dese days don' hab no
+shame 'bout em no whey. Dey hab head full uv eve'yt'ing, honey, aw sorta
+grown people knowings."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Maggie Black, ex-slave, age 79, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Personal interview, June 1937</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885 -1-</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>District #4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>June 7, 1937</b></span><br />
+
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born in Laurens County, S. C., at the 'brick house', which is
+close to Newberry County line, and my master was Dr. Felix Calmes. The
+old brick house is still there. My daddy was Joe Grazier and my mammy,
+Nellie Grazier.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a pretty good house to live in in slavery time, and some fair
+things to eat, but never was paid any money. We had plenty to eat like
+fat meat, turnips, cabbages, cornbread, milk and pot-liquor. Master sent
+his corn and apples, and his peaches to old man Scruggs at Helena, near
+Newberry, to have him make his whiskey, brandy, and wine for him. Old
+man Scruggs was good at that business. The men hunted some, squirrels,
+rabbits, possums, and birds.</p>
+
+<p>"In the winter time I didn't have much clothes, and no shoes. At nights
+I carded and spinned on the mistress's wheels, helping my mammy. Then we
+got old woman Wilson to weave for us.</p>
+
+<p>"Master had a big plantation of several farms, near about 1,000 acres or
+more. It was said he had once 250 slaves on his places, counting
+children and all. His overseers had to whip the slaves, master told them
+to, and told them to whip them hard. Master Calmes was most always mean
+to us. He got mad spells and whip like the mischief. He all the time
+whipping me 'cause I wouldn't work like he wanted. I worked in the big
+house, washed, ironed, cleaned up, and was nurse in the house when war
+was going on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We didn't have a chance to learn to read and write, and master said if
+he caught any of his slaves trying to learn he would 'skin them alive'.</p>
+
+<p>"There was a church in the neighborhood on Dr. Blackburn's place, but we
+didn't get to go to it much. I was 17 years old when I joined the
+church. I joined because the rest of the girls joined. I think everybody
+ought to join the church.</p>
+
+<p>"On Saturday afternoons the slaves had to work, and all day Sunday, too,
+if master wanted them. On Christmas Day we was give liquor to get drunk
+on, but didn't have no dinner.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was sick old Dr. P. B. Ruff attended me. Old Dr. Calmes, I
+'member, traveled on a horse, with saddle-bag behind him, and made his
+own medicines. He made pills from cornbread.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw many slaves sold on the block&mdash;saw mammy with little infant taken
+away from her baby and sent away. I saw families separated from each
+other, some going to one white master and some to another.</p>
+
+<p>"I married at 14 years old to Arthur Bluford. We had 10 children. I now
+have about 8 grandchildren and about 7 or 8 great-grandchildren. I was
+married in the town of Newberry at the white folk's Methodist church, by
+a colored preacher named Rev. Geo. De Walt.</p>
+
+<p>"When freedom come, they left and hired out to other people, but I
+stayed and was hired out to a man who tried to whip me, but I ran away.
+Dat was after I married and had little baby. I told my mammy to look
+after my little baby 'cause I was gone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> I stayed away two years 'till
+after Dr. Calmes and his family moved to Mississippi."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Gordon Bluford (92), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, 1707 Lindsey St.,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Henry Grant</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Columbia, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>SAMUEL BOULWARE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Samuel Boulware's only home is one basement room, in the home of colored
+friends, for which no rent charges are made. He is old and feeble and
+has poor eyesight, yet, he is self-supporting by doing light odd jobs,
+mostly for white people. He has never married, hence no dependents
+whatever. One of the members of the house, in which Samuel lives, told
+him someone on the front porch wanted to talk with him.</p>
+
+<p>From his dingy basement room he slowly mounted the steps and came toward
+the front door with an irregular shamble. One seeing his approach would
+naturally be of the opinion, that this old darkey was certainly nearing
+the hundred year mark. Apparently Father Time had almost caught up with
+him; he had been caught in the winds of affliction and now he was
+tottering along with a bent and twisted frame, which for many years in
+the past, housed a veritable physical giant. The winds of 82 years had
+blown over him and now he was calmly and humbly approaching the end of
+his days. Humility was his attitude, a characteristic purely
+attributable to the genuine and old-fashion southern Negro. He slid into
+a nearby chair and began talking in a plain conversational way.</p>
+
+<p>"Dis is a mighty hot day white folks but you knows dis is July and us
+gits de hot days in dis month. De older I gits de more I feels de hot
+and de cold. I has been a strong, hard working man most all my life and
+if it wasn't for dis rheumatism I has in my right leg, I could work hard
+every day now.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I 'member much 'bout slavery times? Well, dere is no way for me to
+disremember, unless I die. My mammy and me b'long to Doctor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> Hunter,
+some called him Major Hunter. When I was a small boy, I lived wid my
+mammy on de Hunter plantation. After freedom, I took de name of my
+daddy, who was a Boulware. He b'long to Reuben Boulware, who had a
+plantation two and one-half miles from Ridgeway, S. C., on de road dat
+leads to Longtown. My mistress' name was Effie. She and marster had four
+sons, no girls a-tall. George, Abram, Willie, and Henry, was their
+names. They was fine boys, 'cause they was raised by Mistress Effie's
+own hands. She was a good woman and done things 'zackly right 'round de
+plantation. Us slaves loved her, 'cause she said kind and soft words to
+us. Many times I's seen her pat de little niggers on de head, smile and
+say nice words to them. Boss, kind treatment done good then and it sho'
+does good dis present day; don't you think I's right 'bout dat? Marster
+had a bad temper. When he git mad, he walk fast, dis way and dat way,
+and when he stop, would say terrible cuss words. When de mistress heard
+them bad words, she would bow her pretty head and walk 'way kinda sad
+lak. It hurt us slaves to see de mistress sad, 'cause us wanted to see
+her smilin' and happy all de time.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy worked hard in de field every day and as I was just a small
+boy, I toted water to de hands in de field and fetched wood into de
+kitchen to cook wid. Mammy was de mother of twelve chillun; three of
+them die when they was babies. I's de oldest of de twelve and has done
+more hard work than de rest. I had five brothers and all of them is
+dead, 'cept one dat lives in Savannah, Georgia. I has four sisters, one
+living in Charleston, one in New York City, one in Ithaca, N. Y., and
+one in Fairfield County, dis State.</p>
+
+<p>"Does my folks help me along any? No sir, they sho' don't. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> gits
+nothin' from them, and I don't expect nothin' neither. Boss, a nigger's
+kinfolks is worse than a stranger to them; they thinks and acts for
+theirselves and no one else. I knows I's a nigger and I tries to know my
+place. If white folks had drapped us long time ago, us would now be next
+to de rovin' beasts of de woods. Slavery was hard I knows but it had to
+be, it seem lak. They tells me they eats each other in Africa. Us don't
+do dat and you knows dat is a heap to us.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had plenty to eat in slavery time. It wasn't de best but it filled
+us up and give us strength 'nough to work. Marster would buy a years
+rations on de first of every year and when he git it, he would have some
+cooked and would set down and eat a meal of it. He would tell us it
+didn't hurt him, so it won't hurt us. Dats de kind of food us slaves had
+to eat all de year. Of course, us got a heap of vegetables and fruits in
+de summer season, but sich as dat didn't do to work on, in de long
+summer days.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster was good, in a way, to his slaves but dat overseer of his name
+John Parker, was mean to us sometimes. He was good to some and bad to
+others. He strung us up when he done de whippin'. My mammy got many
+whippin's on 'count of her short temper. When she got mad, she would
+talk back to de overseer, and dat would make him madder than anything
+else she could do.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster had over twenty grown slaves all de time. He bought and sold
+them whenever he wanted to. It was sad times to see mother and chillun
+separated. I's seen de slave speculator cut de little nigger chillun
+with keen leather whips, 'cause they'd cry and run after de wagon dat
+was takin' their mammies away after they was sold.</p>
+
+<p>"De overseer was poor white folks, if dats what you is askin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> 'bout,
+and dat is one thing dat made him so hard on de slaves of de plantation.
+All de overseers I knowed 'bout was poor white folks; they was white
+folks in de neighborhood dat wasn't able to own slaves. All dis class of
+people was called by us niggers, poor white folks.</p>
+
+<p>"Us slaves had no schoolin', 'cause dere was no teacher and school nigh
+our plantation. I has learnt to read a little since I got grown.
+Spelling come to me natural. I can spell 'most any word I hears, old as
+I is.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster and mistress was Baptist in 'ligious faith, and b'long to
+Concord Baptist Church. Us slaves was allowed to 'tend dat church, too.
+Us set up in de gallery and jined in de singin' every Sunday. Us slaves
+could jine Concord Church but Doctor Durham, who was de preacher, would
+take de slaves in another room from de white folks, and git their
+'fessions, then he would jine them to de church.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy was a slave on Reuben Boulware's plantation, 'bout two miles
+from Marster Hunter's place. He would git a pass to come to see mammy
+once every week. If he come more than dat he would have to skeedaddle
+through de woods and fields from de patrollers. If they ketched him
+widout a pass, he was sho' in for a skin crackin' whippin'. He knowed
+all dat but he would slip to see mammy anyhow, whippin' or not.</p>
+
+<p>"Most them there patrollers was poor white folks, I believes. Rich folks
+stay in their house at night, 'less they has some sort of big frolic
+amongst theirselves. Poor white folks had to hustle 'round to make a
+living, so, they hired out theirselves to slave owners and rode de roads
+at night and whipped niggers if they ketched any off their plantation
+widout<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> a pass. I has found dat if you gives to some poor folks, white
+or black, something a little better than they is used to, they is sho'
+gwine to think too high of theirselves soon, dats right. I sho' believes
+dat, as much as I believes I's setting in dis chair talkin' to you.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'members lak yesterday, de Yankees comin' 'long. Marster tried to
+hide the best stuff on de plantation but some of de slaves dat helped
+him hide it, showed de Yankee soldiers just where it was, when they come
+dere. They say: 'Here is de stuff, hid here, 'cause us put it dere.'
+Then de soldiers went straight to de place where de valuables was hid
+and dug them out and took them, it sho' set old marster down. Us slaves
+was sorry dat day for marster and mistress. They was gittin' old, and
+now they had lost all they had, and more that dat, they knowed their
+slaves was set free. De soldiers took all de good hosses, fat cattle,
+chickens, de meat in de smoke house, and then burnt all empty houses.
+They left de ones dat folks lived in. De Yankees 'pear to me, to be
+lookin' for things to eat, more than anything else.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I believe in 'ligion? Dat is all us has in dis world to live by
+and it's gwine to be de onliest thing to die wid. Belief in God and a
+'umble spirit is how I's tryin' to live these days. I was christened
+fust a Methodist, but when I growed up, I jine de Presbyterian Church
+and has 'mained a member of dat church every since.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God I's had 'nough sense not to believe in haunts and sich
+things. I has 'possum hunt at night by myself in graveyards and I ain't
+seen one yet. My mammy say she see haunts pass her wid no heads but
+these old eyes has never seen anything lak dat. If you has done somebody
+a terrible wrong, then I believes dat person when they die, will 'pear
+to you on 'count of dat."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Feb. 7, 1938</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>REMINISCENCES: THE RED SHIRTS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: Boyd</b>]</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"The Red Shirts had a big parade and barbecue in Spartanburg. They met
+at the courthouse. There were about 500 Red Shirts, besides others who
+made up a big crowd. I remember four leaders who came from Union County.
+One of the companies was led by Squire Gilliam Jeter, and one by Squire
+Bill Lyles. The company from the city was led by Capt. James Douglass
+and 'Buck' Kelley from Pea Ridge was there with his company.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything drilled in Spartanburg that day. The speakers of the day
+from Union were Squire Jeter and Capt. Douglass. While they were
+speaking, old Squire George Tucker from lower Fish Dam came with his
+company. Mr. Harrison Sartor, father of Will Sartor, was one of the
+captains. We saw Gen. Wade Hampton and old man Ben Tillman there.</p>
+
+<p>"About this time I was bound out to Mr. Jim Gregory, a blacksmith. The
+wealthy landlords bought negroes. Mr. Jim Gregory was the blacksmith for
+old Johnny Meador and Aunt Polly, his wife. He told me that Uncle Johnny
+bought a man, Heath, for $3,500. He also bought Heath's wife, Morrow,
+for Aunt Polly, but I don't know what he paid. The Meador house is just
+this side of Simstown. Aunt Polly's father, Triplett Meador, built that
+mansion. The brick were made in a home kiln which was near the house.
+Aunt Polly was a little girl when the house was built. While the brick
+for the sitting-room fireplace were still wet, he made little Polly step
+on each one of them to make the impression of her feet. So those foot
+prints in that fireplace are Aunt Polly's when she was five years old.
+She grew up there and married, and lived there until her death.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Miss Ida Knight's house (formerly the Sims house) was built not later
+than 1840. Dr. Thompson lived there first. Dr. Billy Sims married Dr.
+Thompson's sister, Miss Patsy, and that is how the house got into the
+Sims family. The old post office was known as Simstown, and I believe it
+was up near the Nat Gist mansion. Simstown was the name for the river
+community for years, because the Sims settled there and they were
+equally or more prominent than the Thompsons and Gists in that
+community. All the Sims men were country doctors.</p>
+
+<p>"To this community at the close of the Confederate War, came old man
+Ogle Tate, his wife, and Ben Shell, as refugees, fleeing from the
+Yankees. When they came into the community, Nat Gist gave them a nice
+house to live in on his plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Gregory got all the sheet iron used on the Meador and Gist
+plantations, and also on the Sims and Thompson plantations. Plows were
+made in his blacksmith shop from 10 inch sheet iron. The sheet was
+heated and beaten into shape with his hammer. After cooling, the tools
+could be sharpened. Horse and mule shoes were made from slender iron
+rods, bought for that purpose. They were called 'slats', and this grade
+of iron was known as 'slat iron'. The shoe was moulded while hot, and
+beaten into the correct shape to fit the animal's foot. Those old shoes
+fit much better than the store-bought ones of more recent days. The
+horseshoe nails were made there, too. In fact, every farm implement of
+iron was made from flat or sheet iron.</p>
+
+<p>"I spun the first pants that I wore. Ma sewed them for me, and wove and
+finished them with her hands. She made the thread that they were sewed
+with by hand on the loom. I made cloth for all my shirts. I wore
+home-made cotton underwear in summer and winter, for we were poor. Of
+course my winter clothes were heavier.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We raised some sheep, and the winter woolens were made from the wool
+sheared from the sheep every May. Wool was taken to the factory at
+Bivensville and there made into yarn. Often, cotton was swapped for yarn
+to warp at home. Then ma ran it off on spools for her loom. 'Sleigh
+hammers' were made from cane gotten off the creek banks and bottoms.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Polly Meador had no patrollers on her place. She would not allow
+one there, for she did her own patrolling with her own whip and two bull
+dogs. She never had an overseer on her place, either. Neither did she
+let Uncle Johnny do the whipping. Those two dogs held them and she did
+her own whipping. One night she went to the quarter and found old 'Bill
+Pea Legs' there after one of her negro women. He crawled under the bed
+when he heard Aunt Polly coming. Those dogs pulled old 'Pea Legs' out
+and she gave him a whipping that he never forgot. She whipped the woman,
+also.</p>
+
+<p>"Morg was Morrow's nickname. Morg used to sit on the meat block and cut
+the meat for Aunt Polly to give out. Morg would eat her three pounds of
+raw meat right there. Uncle Johnny asked her what she would do all the
+week without any meat, she said that she would take the skin and grease
+her mouth every morning; then go on to the field or house and do her
+work, and wait until the next Saturday for more.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know how old I am, but I well remember when Wheeler's men came
+to the plantation. They tore up everything. We heard that they were
+coming, so we dug holes and buried the meat and everything we could. We
+hid them so well that we could never find some of them ourselves.
+Wheeler and 36 men stopped on the Dick Jeter place. I think that was in
+1864. The Jeter place touched Miss Polly's plantation. The Jeter place
+was right near Neal Shoals on Broad River. Mr. Jeter had the biggest gin
+house in the entire township. Old Mr. Dick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> was at home because he was
+too old to go to the war. Pa was still in the war then, of course. Ma
+and I and one of the other children and a few darkies were at our home.</p>
+
+<p>"We saw Wheeler and his men when they stopped at that gin house. They
+began to ransack immediately. Wheeler gave some orders to his men and
+galloped off towards our house. The negroes ran but ma and I stayed in
+the house. Wheeler rode up in front of the door and spoke to my mother.
+He said that he had to feed his men and horses and asked her where the
+corn was. She told him that the gin house and the crib which contained
+the corn did not belong to her, so she could not give him the keys. At
+that he ordered his men to remove a log from the crib. By this means
+they broke into the crib and got all the corn. They then ransacked the
+house and took everything there was to eat. They tore out the big cog
+wheel in the gin and camped in it for the night. Next morning they set
+fire to the gin and then galloped away. Soon Mr. Jeter's big gin had
+gone up in flames. They took all of our corn and all of the fodder, 200
+bundles that we had in the barn, away with them."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Mr. John Boyd, County Home, Union, R. F. D.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 1/26/38</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 24, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by: Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born in Newberry County, near the Laurens County line, above
+Little River. Me and my mother belonged to the Workman family.
+Afterwards, I belonged to Madison Workman. He was a good man to his
+slaves. My work was around the house and home. I was too young to work
+in the fields until after the war.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't remember much about them times. I married there and soon after
+come to town and lived, where I have worked ever since. I do washing and
+other work.</p>
+
+<p>"On the farm, the old folks had to cook outdoors, or in a kitchen away
+off from the house. They had wide fireplaces where they put their pots
+to cook the meals.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember the old Little River Presbyterian Church where people would
+go on Sundays. They would go in the mornings, and again in the
+afternoons and have preaching."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Jane Bradley (80), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. May 17, 1937</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>ANDY BRICE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Andy Brice lives with his wife and two small children, about twelve
+miles east of Ridgeway, S. C., in a two-room frame building, chimney in
+the center. The house is set in a little cluster of pines one hundred
+and fifty yards north of state highway #34. Andy, since the amputation
+of his right leg five years ago, has done no work and is too old to
+learn a trade. He has a regular beggar's route including the towns of
+Ridgeway, Winnsboro, Woodward, and Blackstock. His amiability and good
+nature enable him to go home after each trip with a little money and a
+pack of miscellaneous gifts from white friends.</p>
+
+<p>"Howdy Cap'n! I come to Winnsboro dis mornin' from way 'cross Wateree,
+where I live now 'mongst de bull-frogs and skeeters. Seem lak they just
+sing de whole night thru: 'De bull-frog on de bank, and de skeeter in de
+pool.' Then de skeeter sail 'round my face wid de tra la, la la la, la
+la la part of dat old song you is heard, maybe many times.</p>
+
+<p>"I see a spit-box over dere. By chance, have you got any 'bacco? Make me
+more glib if I can chew and spit; then I 'members more and better de
+things done past and gone.</p>
+
+<p>"I was a slave of Mistress Jane. Her was a daughter of old Marster
+William Brice. Her marry Henry Younge and mammy was give to Marse Henry
+and Miss Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy name Tony. Mammy name Sallie. You is seen her a many a day.
+Marse Henry got kilt in de war. His tombstone and Mistress Jane's
+tombstone am in Concord Cemetery. They left two chillun, Miss Kittie and
+Miss Maggie. They both marry a Caldwell; same name but no kin. Miss
+Kittie marry Marse Joe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> Caldwell and move to Texas. Miss Maggie marry
+Marse Camel Caldwell and move to North Carolina.</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy die durin' de war. After freedom, mammy marry a ugly, no
+'count nigger name Mills Douglas. She had one child by him, name Janie.
+My mammy name her dat out of memory and love for old mistress, in
+slavery time. I run away from de home of my step-pappy and got work wid
+Major Thomas Brice. I work for him 'til I become a full grown man and
+come to be de driver of de four-hoss wagon.</p>
+
+<p>"One day I see Marse Thomas a twistin' de ears on a fiddle and rosinin'
+de bow. Then he pull dat bow 'cross de belly of dat fiddle. Sumpin' bust
+loose in me and sing all thru my head and tingle in my fingers. I make
+up my mind, right then and dere, to save and buy me a fiddle. I got one
+dat Christmas, bless God! I learn and been playin' de fiddle ever since.
+I pat one foot while I playin'. I kept on playin' and pattin' dat foot
+for thirty years. I lose dat foot in a smash up wid a highway accident
+but I play de old tunes on dat fiddle at night, dat foot seem to be dere
+at de end of dat leg (indicating) and pats just de same. Sometime I
+ketch myself lookin' down to see if it have come back and jined itself
+up to dat leg, from de very charm of de music I makin' wid de fiddle and
+de bow.</p>
+
+<p>"I never was very popular wid my own color. They say behind my back, in
+'76, dat I's a white folks nigger. I wear a red shirt then, drink red
+liquor, play de fiddle at de 'lection box, and vote de white folks
+ticket. Who I marry? I marry Ellen Watson, as pretty a ginger cake
+nigger as ever fried a batter cake or rolled her arms up in a wash tub.
+How I git her? I never git her; dat fiddle got her. I play for all de
+white folks dances down at Cedar Shades, up at Blackstock. De money roll
+in when someone pass 'round de hat and say: 'De fiddler?' Ellen had more
+beaux 'round her than her could shake a stick at but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> de beau she lak
+best was de bow dat could draw music out of them five strings, and draw
+money into dat hat, dat jingle in my pocket de nex' day when I go to see
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'members very little 'bout de war, tho' I was a good size boy when de
+Yankees come. By instint, a nigger can make up his mind pretty quick
+'bout de creed of white folks, whether they am buckra or whether they am
+not. Every Yankee I see had de stamp of poor white trash on them. They
+strutted 'round, big Ike fashion, a bustin' in rooms widout knockin',
+talkin' free to de white ladies, and familiar to de slave gals,
+ransackin' drawers, and runnin' deir bayonets into feather beds, and
+into de flower beds in de yards.</p>
+
+<p>"What church I b'long to? None. Dat fiddle draws down from hebben all de
+sermons dat I understan'. I sings de hymns in de way I praise and
+glorify de Lord.</p>
+
+<p>"Cotton pickin' was de biggest work I ever did, outside of drivin' a
+wagon and playin' de fiddle. Look at them fingers; they is supple. I
+carry two rows of cotton at a time. One week I pick, in a race wid
+others, over 300 pounds a day. Commencin' Monday, thru Friday night, I
+pick 1,562 pounds cotton seed. Dat make a bale weighin' 500 pounds, in
+de lint.</p>
+
+<p>"Ellen and me have one child, Sallie Ann. Ellen 'joy herself; have a
+good time nussin' white folks chillun. Nussed you; she tell me 'bout it
+many time. 'Spect she mind you of it very often. I knows you couldn't
+git 'round dat woman; nobody could. De Lord took her home fifteen years
+ago and I marry a widow, Ida Belton, down on de Kershaw County side.</p>
+
+<p>"You wants me to tell 'bout dat 'lection day at Woodward, in 1878? You
+wants to know de beginnin' and de end of it? Yes? Well, you couldn't wet
+dis old man's whistle wid a swallow of red liquor now? Couldn't you or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+could you? Dis was de way of it: It was set for Tuesday. Monday I drive
+de four-hoss wagon down to dis very town. Marse John McCrory and Marse
+Ed Woodward come wid me. They was in a buggy. When us got here, us got
+twenty, sixteen shooters and put them under de hay us have in de wagon.
+Bar rooms was here. I had fetched my fiddle 'long and played in Marse
+Fred Habernick's bar 'til dinner time. Us leave town 'bout four o'clock.
+Roads was bad but us got home 'bout dark. Us put de guns in Marse Andy
+Mobley's store. Marse Ed and me leave Marse John to sleep in de store
+and to take care of de guns.</p>
+
+<p>"De nex' mornin', polls open in de little school house by de brick
+church. I was dere on time, help to fix de table by de window and set de
+ballot boxes on it. Voters could come to de window, put deir arms thru
+and tuck de vote in a slit in de boxes. Dere was two supervisors, Marse
+Thomas for de Democrats and Uncle Jordan for de Radicals. Marse Thomas
+had a book and a pencil, Uncle Jordan had de same.</p>
+
+<p>"Joe Foster, big buckra nigger, want to vote a stranger. Marse Thomas
+challenge dis vote. In them times colored preachers so 'furiate de
+women, dat they would put on breeches and vote de 'Publican radical
+ticket. De stranger look lak a woman. Joe Foster 'spute Marse Thomas'
+word and Marse Thomas knock him down wid de naked fist. Marse Irish
+Billy Brice, when him see four or five hindred blacks crowdin' 'round
+Marse Thomas, he jump thru de window from de inside. When he lit on de
+ground, pistol went off pow! One nigger drop in his tracks. Sixteen men
+come from nowhere and sixteen, sixteen shooters. Marse Thomas hold up
+his hand to them and say: 'Wait!' Him point to de niggers and say:
+'Git.' They start to runnin' 'cross de railroad, over de hillside and
+never quit runnin' 'til they git half a mile away. De only niggers left
+on dat ground was me, old Uncle Kantz, (you know de old mulatto,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>
+club-foot nigger) well, me and him and Albert Gladney, de hurt nigger
+dat was shot thru de neck was de only niggers left. Dr. Tom Douglas took
+de ball out Albert's neck and de white folks put him in a wagon and sent
+him home. I drive de wagon. When I got back, de white boys was in de
+graveyard gittin' names off de tombstones to fill out de talley sheets,
+dere was so many votes in de box for de Hampton ticket, they had to vote
+de dead. I 'spect dat was one resurrection day all over South
+Carolina."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Nov. 10, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by: Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I is gwine over to Tosch to see Maria. Everybody know Maria. She go by
+Rice&mdash;Maria Rice. She sont fer me to cure her misery. First, I went from
+my home in lower Cross Keys, across de Enoree, to see Maria. When I
+reached dar whar she stay, dey tell me dat her daughter over to Tosch.
+Done come and got her.</p>
+
+<p>"A kind friend dat de Lawd put in my path fetched me back across de
+Enoree and over to Tosch to Maria's gal's house. I is gwine straight
+over dar and lay my hand on Maria and rid her of dat misery dat she sont
+word was ailing her all dis spring. Don't make no diff'uns whar you
+hurts&mdash;woman, man or suckling babe&mdash;if you believes in de holler of my
+hand, it'll ease you, allus do it. De Bible say so, dat's why it be
+true. Ain't gwine to tell you nothing but de truth and de whole truth,
+so help me Jesus. Gone 65 years, I is been born agin dat long; right
+over in Padgett's Creek church, de white folks' church, dat's what de
+Lawd tuck my sins away and washed me clean agin wid His blood. Dat's why
+I allus sticks to de truth, I does.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey all 'lows dat I is gwine on 89, and I has facts to believe it am
+true. I 'longed to Marse Jesse Briggs. Did you know dat it was two Jesse
+Briggs? Yes sir, sho was two Jesse Briggses.</p>
+
+<p>"What I gwine to relate to you is true, but in respect to my old Marse,
+and in de case dat dem what reads dat book won't understand, you needs
+not to write dis statement down. My marster was called 'Black Jesse',
+but de reason fer dat was to keep him from gitting mixed up wid de other
+Jesse. Dat is de secret of de thing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> Now dat's jes' fer your own light
+and knowledge, and not to be wrote down. He was de blacksmith fer all de
+Cross Keys section, and fer dat very thing he got de name by everybody,
+'Black Jesse'. I allus 'longed to dat man and he was de kindest man what
+de countryside had knowledge of.</p>
+
+<p>"In Union County is whar I was born and raised, and it's whar I is gwine
+to be buried. Ain't never left de county but once in my life, and if de
+Lawd see fitten, I ain't gwine to leave it no mo', 'cept to reach de
+Promise Land. Lawd! Lawd! De Promise Land, dat's whar I is gwine when I
+leaves Union County. Dey carried me a hundred miles to cure a sick
+woman, onliest time I ever left Union County. I loves it and I is fit
+throughout and enduring de time dem Yankees tried to git de county, to
+save it. What is I gwine to leave it fer? Mr. Perrin and all de white
+folks is good to me since my marse done gone and left his earthly home.
+And he is waiting up dar wid Missie to see me agin. Dat I is sho of.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen brother, de Lawd is setting on His throne in Glory. He hear
+every word dat I gwine to tell you. Folks fergits dat when dey talks
+real often sometimes, don't dey? I put my hand on any 'flux' man or
+woman and removes de pain, if dey have faith in my hand. I don't tell
+nothing but de truth. I was born on Gist Briggs' plantation in Union
+County, in de lower section of Cross Keys. Marse Sexton and all dem good
+folks in lower Keys says dat I sho is 88. Give my name right flat, it's
+George Briggs; giving it round, it like dis, George McDuffie Briggs. My
+papa's name was Ike Wilburn, and my mother's name was Margaret Briggs.
+Pa 'longed to Marse Lige Wilburn. Mama 'longed to Jesse (Black Jesse)
+Briggs. Dey both born and raised in Union County. Dese was my brothers
+and sisters, coming in de order dey was born to my parents in: Charlie,
+Dave, Aaron, Tom, Noah,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> Charlotte, Polly, Fannie, Mattie, Horace,
+Cassie. I'm de oldest, and Cassie and me lives in Union County. Fannie
+and Mattie lives in Asheville, and de rest is done journeyed to de
+Promise Land. Yes Lawd, to de Promise Land.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse and Missus was good to us all. Missus name was Nancy. She die
+early and her grave is in Cross Keys at de Briggs graveyard. Be still!
+Lemme git my mind together so dat I don't git mixed up and can git you
+de Briggses together. Here 'tis: Cheney and Lucindy, Lucindy married a
+Floyd from Spartanburg, and de Floyds lived at de Burn't factory. Cheney
+Briggs had a son, Henry Briggs.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so fast, fer I'se gwine to start way back, dat time when us was
+lil' darky boys way back in slavery. We started to work wid de marster's
+mules and hosses. When us was real little, we played hoss. Befo' Cheney
+Briggs went to Arkansas he was our play hoss. His brother, Henry, was de
+wagoner and I was de mule. Henry was little and he rid our backs
+sometimes. Henry rid old man Sam, sometimes, and old man Sam jes' holler
+and haw haw at us chilluns. Dis was in sech early childhood dat it is
+not so I can 'zactly map out de exact age us was den; anyway, from dis
+we rid de gentle hosses and mules and larn't how to feed dem. Every word
+dat I tells you is de truth, and I is got to meet dat word somewhars
+else; and fer dat reason, de truth is all dat dis old man ever tells.</p>
+
+<p>"In dat day we lived in a log cabin or house. Sometimes us never had
+nothing to do. Our house had only one room, but some of de houses had
+two rooms. Our'n had a winder, a do', and a common fireplace. Now dey
+makes a fireplace to scare de wood away. In old days dey made fireplaces
+to take care of de chilluns in de cold weather. It warm de whole house,
+'cause it was so big and dar was plenty wood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> Wood wasn't no problem
+den, and it ain't no problem yet out in de lower Keys. In town it is,
+and I ain't guessing. I done seed so.</p>
+
+<p>"I sho can histronize de Confederates. I come along wid de Secession
+flag and de musterings. I careful to live at home and please de Marse.
+In de war, I'se mo' dan careful and I stick close to him and please him,
+and he mo' dan good. Us did not git mobbed up like lots of dem did.</p>
+
+<p>"When Tice Myers' chilluns was born, he had a house built wid a
+up-stairs. But never no stage coach stopped dar as I ever heard tell
+about, and I done saw 75 years at Padgett's Creek.</p>
+
+<p>"Way 'tis, from de bundle of de heart, de tongue speaketh. Been in
+service reg'lar since Monday. I went to Neal Greege's house but she
+wasn't dar. I is speaking 'bout Ria (Maria Rice). She done gone to town.
+At de highway, de Lawd prepared a friend to carry me to Union, and when
+I got dar I take and lay hands on Ria Rice, she laying down and
+suffering, and I sot down and laid my hand on her. We never say nothing,
+jes' pray. She be real quiet, and atter while, she riz up and take a
+breath. She kept on a setting up fer so long dat her husband make her
+lay back down fer fear dat she git worser. I stay dar all through de
+night and she sleep sound and wake up dis morning feeling like a new
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>"Befo' breakfast, here is de words of praise I lifted to de Lawd, over
+dar on Tosch. You set down de coser (chorus): 'First to de graveyard;
+den to de Jedgement bar!' Is you got dat verser (verses)? Den git dis:
+'All de deacons got to go; all de members got to go; all de sinners got
+to go.' Mo' 'longs to it, but dat's all I takes when I is praising Him
+fer relieving pain through me. (He sings each line five times. He takes
+off his hat; bows; holds his hands over his head, and closes his eyes
+while singing. His hair is snow white.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Lawd, help me dis morning! Here's another first line to one of our
+songs: 'All dem preachers got to go'.</p>
+
+<p>"Nehemiah, when he wid de king, de king axed him to reveal de wall whar
+his father was buried. Nehemiah did what de king had done axed him. I
+'tends Galilee Baptist church in lower Cross Keys; and at Sedalia, I
+goes to New Hope Methodist church, but I don't know nothing else but
+Baptist. We peoples is barrence (barren of the Holy Spirit), but not
+God; He, Hisself, is born of God, and all is of de same source and by
+dat I means de Spirit. All has to be born of de Spirit to become
+chilluns of God. Romans, Chap. 6, 'lows something like dis: 'He dat is
+dead in sin, how is it dat he can continue in sin?' Dat tell us dat
+every man, white or black, is de child of God. And it is Christ dat is
+buried in baptism, and we shall be buried in like manner. If Christ did
+not rise, den our preaching is in vain. And if we is not born agin, why
+den we is lost and our preaching is in vain.</p>
+
+<p>"In picking up de New Testament, consider all dat you hear me arguing
+and saying is from a gift and not from edication. Romans 6, 'lows:
+'Speak plain words, not round words, kaise all de round words is fer dem
+dat is edicated.' Jacob had twelve sons. Dey went and bundled up deir
+wheat, and eleven bundles bowed to de one. Dat Joseph's bundle what he
+done up. Other brothers up and got and sold Joseph into captivity to de
+Egyptians. Dat throw'd Jacob to send Reuben to Egypt. Den dey bowed to
+Jacob and his sons. It run on and on till dey all had to go to Egypt,
+and all of dem had to live under Joseph.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was a little shaver and come to myself. I was sleeping in a
+corded bed. (He scratched his head) I jes' studying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> fer a minute; can't
+'zactly identify my grandpa, but I can identify my grandma. We all
+raised on de same place together. She name Cindy Briggs, but dey call
+her Cina kaise dar was so many Cindys 'round dar. One thing I does
+'member 'bout her, if she tote me, she sho to whip me. I was raised
+strict.</p>
+
+<p>"All my life I is stayed in de fur (far) end of Union County whar it
+borders Laurens, wid de Enoree dividing de two counties. It is right dar
+dat I is plowed and hoed and raised my craps fer de past 75 years, I
+reckons. Lawd have mercy! No, I doesn't recalls de names of none of dem
+mules. Dat's so fur back dat I is jes' done forgot, dat's all. But I
+does recall 'fur back' things de best, sometimes. Listen good now. When
+I got big and couldn't play 'round at chillun's doings, I started to
+platting cornshucks and things fer making hoss and mule collars, and
+scouring-brooms and shoulder-mats. I cut hickory poles and make handles
+out of dem fer de brooms. Marse had hides tanned, and us make buggy
+whips, wagon whips, shoe strings, saddle strings and sech as dat out of
+our home-tanned leather. All de galluses dat was wo' in dem days was
+made by de darkies.</p>
+
+<p>"White oak and hickory was split to cure, and we made fish baskets, feed
+baskets, wood baskets, sewing baskets and all kinds of baskets fer de
+Missus. All de chair bottoms of straight chairs was made from white oak
+splits, and de straight chairs was made in de shop. You made a scouring
+brush like dis: (He put his hands together to show how the splits were
+held) By splitting a width of narrow splits, keep on till you lay a
+entire layer of splits; turn dis way; den dat way, and den bind together
+and dat hold dem like you want dem to stay. Last, you work in a pole as
+long as you want it fer de handle, and bind it tight and tie wid de
+purtiest knots.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I git money fer platting galluses and making boot strings and other
+little things. Allus first, I desires to be well qualified wid what I
+does. I is gwine to be qualified wid everything dat I does, iffen I does
+it fer money or no. Dat's de reason white people has allus give me words
+of encouragement.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I gwine to sing a song fer Miss Polly, kaise she de grand-daughter
+of de late Sheriff Long, and I goes to see her grandma at de Keys (Cross
+Keys House). Dar she come now.</p>
+
+<p>"How is you dis morning, Miss Polly? De Lawd sho does shower you, Miss
+Polly, and dat's de reason I is gwine to sing fer you dis morning.
+You'll be able to tell Mr. Jimmie (her father) dat Uncle George sing fer
+you, 'Jesus Listening All De Day Long'.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Jesus listening all de day long to hear some sinner pray.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">De winding sheet to wrop (wrap) dis body in,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">De coffin to hold you fast;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pass through death's iron do'.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come ye dat love de Lawd and let your joy be know'd;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dis iron gate you must pass through, if you gwine to be</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Born agin."</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>He sang these lines over three times and then bowing, said: "Ain't it
+glory dat we can live whar de Lawd can use us? Dat's power. A strong man
+entereth in; a weak man cometh out. Dat represent Christ gwine into your
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Sho I can remember when dey had de mustering grounds at de Keys. Dar
+day mustered and den dey turn't in and practiced drilling dem soldiers
+till dey larn't how to march and to shoot de Yankees. Drilling, dat's de
+proper word, not practice, I knows, if I ain't ed'icated. Dey signed me
+to go to de 16th regiment, but I never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> reached de North. When us got to
+Charleston, us turn't around and de bosses fetched us right back to
+Union through Columbia. Us heard dat Sherman was coming, fetching fire
+along 'hind him.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know nothing 'bout no militia to make no statement, but it went
+on and turn't back. Another regiment had a barbecue somewhars in Union
+County befo' it went off to war; might a been de 18th regiment, but I
+does not feel dat I can state on dat.</p>
+
+<p>"My soul reaches from God's foot-stool up to his heavenly home. I can
+histronize de poor white folks' wives and chilluns enduring de time of
+de Civil War fer you. When dese poor white men went to de war, dey left
+deir little chillun and deir wives in de hands of de darkies dat was
+kind and de rich wives of our marsters to care fer. Us took de best care
+of dem poor white dat us could under de circumstances dat prevailed.</p>
+
+<p>"We was sont to Sullivan's Island, but befo' we reached it, de Yankees
+done got it and we won't 'lowed to cross in '64. But jes' de same, we
+was in service till dey give Capt. Franklin Bailey 'mission to fetch us
+home. Dar we had to git 'mission fer everything, jes' as us niggers had
+to git 'mission to leave our marster's place at home in Union County.
+Capt. Bailey come on back to Cross Keys wid us under his protection, and
+we was under it fer de longest time atter we done got home.</p>
+
+<p>"Fer 65 years I been licensed as a preacher, and fer longer dan dat I
+been a member of Padgett's Creek Baptist church. Mo' work I does, mo'
+work I has to do. You know how to pray. Well, you does not know how to
+make polish out of pinders.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't ed'icated yet, but even Lige what teaches school out to de Keys
+(de big black school), dat big black buck dat teaches de chilluns deir
+'rithmetic; even he couldn't do dis here one.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> A heap of ed'icated folks
+can't give it. Here it is: 'What's de biggest figger in de figger ten?'"</p>
+
+<p>With his old black, rough and gnarled forefinger he drew on the table
+the figure 1. "Now you see dat? Dat's de figger 1. A naught ain't
+nothing by itself or multiplied by other naughts; but set it down in
+front of de figger 1, and it takes on de value 9. Dar you is got
+ten&mdash;one and nine is ten. Dat naught becomes something. I is old, and I
+ain't had narry bit of schooling, but I likes to be close to de orchard,
+and I knows it's dar by de smell of it. Dat's de way I is when I gits
+along side ed'icated folks&mdash;I knows dat dey is.</p>
+
+<p>"It's like dat sum dem scholars couldn't git; standing alone dat naught
+ain't worth nothing, but set it up against dat which is of value and it
+takes on value. Set a naught ag'inst dat which is one and you has ten;
+set up another naught dar and you has a hundred. Now if somebody was to
+give me a note worth $10, and I found room to add another naught along
+side of de first; den dem two naughts what ain't worth nothing by
+deirselves gives de note de value of $99 if dey is sot along wid de one.
+Ed'icated folks calls dat raising de note. I is ig'nant and I calls dat
+robbery. And dat's like you and me. We is naughts and Christ is de
+<i>One</i>, and we ain't nothing till we carries de Spirit of de Lawd along
+wid us.</p>
+
+<p>"On de pathway of life, may you allus keep Christ in front of you and
+you will never go wrong. De Lawd will den see fit to give you a soul dat
+will reach from His foot-stool here on earth to His dwelling place on
+high." He ended with a deep sob and good-bye.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: George Briggs (88), Union, S. C. RFD 2.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 6/9/37.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>July 20, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Some white men called in question today about de reigning governor
+enduring time of de Civil War. I knowed dat, and 'cides dat, I knowed
+him well. It was Governor 'Bill' as us called him.</p>
+
+<p>"What you want to git, is history about muster grounds. Yes, it was on
+Jones Ferry Road, jest south of Cross Keys whar dey had what dey allus
+called de muster field. Now, Jones Ferry Road leads across Enoree River
+into Laurens County. Enoree River is de thing dat devides Union County
+from Laurens County, dat it is.</p>
+
+<p>"Well as I remember, Mr. Bill Ray was in de mustering of de 18th
+Regiment. Billy, Robert, Sara and Miss Nancy was Mr. Alex's chilluns.
+Understand me, don't think dat Bob and Sam was in de Regiment ...
+satisfied Billy was, kaise he used to pass our house on horse back,
+coming from de Laurens side where he lived.</p>
+
+<p>"Sixteen-year-old boys come in de same time dat I did. Course I ain't
+told all dat I knows, kaise dat wouldn't be proper. All I tell you, I
+wants it to be recognized. De better it's done, de better it'll help
+you.</p>
+
+<p>"I goes from home and stays five days or more, and don't nothing happen
+to a thing at my home. I does fer de sick and de Lawd blesses me. He
+looks atter my things while I am away. He soon shows his presence atter
+I gits dar. He calls fer me and I feeds Him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Once had 26 biles (boils). Dat make me consider my disobedience against
+de Lawd. Den I went to Him in prayer. He told me Satan done got ahead of
+Him. Dat show me dat I done forgot to be particular. I got mo' 'ticular
+and pray mo' often, and in six weeks my biles had done all gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Dar is times when I gits lost fer not knowing. I can't keep up, kaise I
+cannot read. Man in Sunday school reads and I hears. He read de olden
+Testament; den he read de new Testament. Dat my schooling. I 'clar unto
+you, I got by all my life by praying and thinking. I sho does think a
+lot. ('Uncle' George's facial and scalp muscles work so when he thinks,
+that his straw hat moves up and down.)</p>
+
+<p>"When good man prays fer bad man, de Holy Ghost works on bad man's
+consciousness, and afo' he knows it, he's a-saying 'Lawd have Mercy'
+'stead of 'G'dam', like all wicked folks says every day. He&mdash;dat de Holy
+Ghost dat I still is speaking of&mdash;jest penetrates de wicked man's
+consciousness widout him a-knowing it. Dat penetrating make de bad man
+say, 'Lawd have Mercy.' I hoes and I cuts sprouts, and den I plows. When
+you plows, mules is allus so aggravating dat dey gits you all ruffled
+up. Dat de devil a-working at you. Dat's all old mules is anyhow. I does
+not cuss, nohow, kaise it sho am wicked and I is had de Holy Spirit in
+my soul, now gone sixty-five years, since I jined Padgett Creek Church.
+When my old mule gits to de row's end, and he act mulish&mdash;kaise dat's in
+him and he don't know nothing else to do&mdash;I means to say either 'ha' or
+'gee', and often since I jined Padgett Creek Church I finds myself
+saying 'Lawd have Mercy' 'stead of 'gee' or 'ha'. So you see dat de Lawd
+has command, whar-so-ever if I was wicked, Satan would.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A child fo God allus will agree wid de Word of God. We mens dat claim
+to be leaders in de Kingdom, got to step up and sho folks what dey must
+do. Man learns right smart from Exodus 'bout how to lead. A male child
+was born to rule de world. Moses still de strongest impression dat we
+has as rulers. God gits Hisself into de heads of men dat he wants to
+rule and He don't tell nobody else nothing 'bout it neither.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Roosevelt de president and he sho looks atter de po' folks. He
+ain't no ig'nant man neither, kaise he got de light. Folks ain't a-gwine
+to drown him out neither wid dere wicked words 'gainst him, kaise he
+strive in de Lawd's name to do His will. Mr. Roosevelt got learning like
+I is from de throne of God. He may have education also, but if he is, he
+sho knows how to keep dem both jined together. Folks reads to me how he
+got crippled and how he washed in dem springs in Georgia, and dat keep
+him a-gwine right on anyhow. It ain't dem springs by deself, but it's
+God a dipping his hand down dar fer de President to git well. Oh yes,
+suh, I knows dat he twan't de president when he was a-washing, but dem
+de plans dat de Lawd had done already planned and you and me never
+know'd nothing 'bout all dat. You and me does not know what is planned
+up in sto' fer us in de future neither.</p>
+
+<p>"I is a Baptist, and at Padgett's Creek we does not believe in no
+back-sliding. 'Once in de Spirit, allus in de Spirit'. A child of your'n
+is allus a child of your'n. Dat de way de Baptist teach&mdash;once a child of
+God, allus God's child.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> T'ain't no sech thing as drapping back. If you
+draps back, you ain't never been no child of de Lawd, and you never had
+no business being baptized. Christ was baptized in de waters of Jordan,
+won't (weren't) He? Well, He never drapped back, did He? He say we must
+follow in His footsteps, didn't He? Well, dar you is, and dat's all dar
+is to it.</p>
+
+<p>"God gits in de heads of men to help de aged and de po' also. I never
+axes fer nothing, but when I sets around de courthouse and informs men
+as I been doing dis evening, de Lawd has dem to drap a nickle or a dime
+or a quarter in my hand but He never gits dem to a half of a dollar."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: George Briggs, (88) Rt. 2, Union, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/12/37)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>July 12, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"What-so-ever I can find! I traveling dat way over 73 years. If he ax de
+Lawd and have faith, he ken do; and iffen he don't have no faith, by den
+he can't. When a man comes along dat wants his own way, and he won't pay
+no attention to de Lawd, by den de Lawd don't pay him no mind; and so
+dat man jest keeps a-gwine on wid his way and he don't never reach de
+Cross. Jesus say, 'deny yourself, pick up de Cross and follow Me.'</p>
+
+<p>"I see a man in de courthouse dis morning, and he was like Nicodemus.
+Why dat man want to be resto'd back like he was when he was jest 21
+years old. I seed him setting down dar in Mr. Perrin's office, and I
+knowed his troubles when he 'low dat he done been to every doctor in
+town. De trouble was, he never had no faith in de doctors and nobody
+else. How could he have faith in Jesus when he never had none in nothing
+else? Brother, you has to have faith in your fellowman befo' you has
+faith in de Lawd. I don't know how come, but dat's de way it is. My plan
+is working by faith. Jesus say, 'Work widout faith ain't nothing; but
+work wid faith'll move mountains'.</p>
+
+<p>"Dat man told me he gwine give me a hundred dollars if I rid him of
+misery. Dat show he never know nothing 'bout faith.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If Mr. Emslie Nicholson ax me to rid him of a misery, I couldn't take
+no money from him, and he de richest man in all Union County. Mr.
+Nicholson would know better dan to offer me money, kaise he has faith.
+You know he's a good 'Presmuterian' (Presbyterian).</p>
+
+<p>"Dey looks at de back of my head, and de hair on it ain't rubbed against
+no college and fer dat reason dese young negroes don't want me to
+preach. Dey wants to hear dat man preach dat can read. Man dat can read
+can't understand less'n some divine man guide him. I speak as my Teacher
+gives it to me, dat's de Lawd. In so doing, I testify de word dat no man
+can condemn. Dat is my plan of Salvation: to work by faith widout price
+or purse, as de Lawd, my Teacher has taught me.</p>
+
+<p>"Dar was no church on our plantation when I was a boy. All de Baptists
+went to Padgett's Creek, and all de Methodist went to Quaker Church and
+Belmont. Padgett's Creek had a section in de back of de church fer de
+slaves to sit. Quaker Church and Belmont both had slaves' galleries. Dar
+is a big book at Padgetts wid three pages of slaves' names that was
+members. Mr. Claude Sparks read it to me last year. All de darky members
+dead, but one, dat's me.</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody never read de Bible to me when I was little. It jest a gift of
+God dat teached to me through de Holy Ghost. It's de Spirit of de One in
+Three dat gits into you, and dat's de Holy Ghost or de Holy Spirit dat
+gives me my enlightment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If I can git to de do' of Padgett's Creek Church, I can jest feel de
+Power of God. ('Uncle' George pats his foot and softly cries at this
+point, and his face takes on a calm and peaceful expression.)</p>
+
+<p>"If you eats befo' you gits hongry, you never will feast on dead air. I
+makes it a practice to feed my soul and body befo' dey gits hongry. Even
+I does eat by myself, dis old man take off his hat and ax de Lawd to
+bless his soul and body in nourishment fer de future.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't never seed Mr. Lincoln, but from what I learn't dey said dat
+God had placed in him de revelation to give de plan dat he had fer every
+man. Dat plan fer every man to worship under his own vine and fig tree.
+From dat, we should of liked Mr. Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>"Dis here 'Dick Look-Up'. No sir, I don't know him, kaise I caught his
+name since I come on dis side of de river. Mr. Perrin knows him, and I
+heard him say dat every time anybody ax him how old he is, he add on ten
+years. Dat's how come dey got in de paper he a hundred and twenty-five
+years old. Now me and Mr. Perrin doesn't speak unless we is obleeged to
+know dat what we is gwine to say is de truth. Us is careful, kaise us
+knows dat de Lawd am looking down from his throne, and dat He is
+checking every word dat we says. Some folks does not recall dat fact
+when dey speaks, or dey would be careful.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll say it slow so dat you can catch it; I start in time of de
+Confederate War. Wid dirt dug up out of de smokehouse, water was run
+through it so us could get salt fer bread.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> Hickory wood ashes was used
+fer soda. If we didn't have no hickory wood, we burnt red corn cobs; and
+de ashes from dem was used fer cooking soda.</p>
+
+<p>"Molasses was made from watermelons in time of de war. Dey was also made
+from May-apples or may-pops as some call dem, and sometimes dey was made
+from persimmons and from wheat brand. In Confederate days, Irish potato
+tops was cooked fer vegetables. Blackberry leaves was ocassionally used
+fer greens or fer seasoning lambs quarters.</p>
+
+<p>"Dis way watermelon was done: Soak watermelon twenty and four hours to
+de'self; strain off all juice and put on fire to bile. When dey thickens
+dey bees good. Yes sir, good, good.</p>
+
+<p>"Wid may-pops: peel de outside green off, den bust 'em open and mash up
+together; strain juice off and cook thick.</p>
+
+<p>"'Simmons and wheat bran are mashed up together and baked in water. Let
+set twenty and four hours and cook down to molasses. Dat winds up dat
+part of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Git plums and blackberries and de like of dat and make up in Jelly, or
+can fer scarce times, dat's de way we done den and folks does dat yet.
+Dese is some of de particularest things of de Confederate times dat I
+come back from Sedalia to give you, dat's right. (This old negro, who
+had already been interviewed by the writer, came a long way and
+looked-up the author to tell him some incidents which he had forgotten
+to tell in the first interview.) Some customs is done went by now, but
+dey was practiced in Sedalia, and as to whar dem was done fer off as
+Spartanburg, I cannot say.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"In Confederate time, all wimmens stayed close home and carded and spun
+all de day long. Dey wove all dere own clothes. Men at home, old men,
+made leather shoes and shoe strings and belts and galloses.</p>
+
+<p>"Our darkies tried hard to be obedient to our master so dat we might
+obtain (keep) our pleasant home. Obedience makes it better dan
+sacrifice. I restes my mind dar."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: George Briggs (88), Rt. 2, Union, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewed by: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/7/37)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, January 27, 1938</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>JOSEPHINE BRISTOW</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 73 Years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Remembers de Confederate War, Miss. Yes, mam, I'm supposed to be, if I
+can live to see February, bout 73 year old. What age Hester say she was?
+Dat what I had thought from me en her conversation. Miss, I don'
+remember a thing more bout de war den de soldiers comin through old
+Massa's plantation en we chillun was 'fraid of dem en ran. Knew dey was
+dressed in a different direction from us white folks. All was in blue,
+you know, wid dem curious lookin hats en dem brass buttons on dey
+bodies. No, mam, dey didn' stop nowhe' bout us. Dey was ridin on horses
+en it seem like dey was in a hurry gwine somewhe'. En dey didn' stop to
+old Massa's house neither. No, mam, not to my knowin, dey didn'. Well,
+we was livin out to de plantation, we calls it, en Massa en Missus was
+livin up here to Marion. Mr. Ferdinand Gibson, dat who been us Massa in
+slavery time en Miss Connie, dat what we used to call her, was us
+Missus. To my knowin, dey didn' have no chillun dey own, but dey sho had
+plenty colored people. Yes, mam, seems like to my remembrance, my Massa
+ran bout 30 plantations en 'sides dat, he had a lot of servants right up
+here to de big house, men en women."</p>
+
+<p>"I was real small in dem days en far as I can remember, we lived on de
+quarter dere to old Massa's plantation in de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> country. Us little tots
+would go every mornin to a place up on de hill, called de milk house, en
+get our milk 'tween meals while de old folks was off workin. Oh, dey had
+a old woman to see after we chillun en tend to us in de daytime. De old
+lady dat looked after us, her name was Mary Novlin. Lord, Mr. Gibson, he
+had big farms en my mother en father, dey worked on de farms. Yes'um, my
+mother en father, I used to never wouldn' know when dey come home in de
+evenin, it would be so late. De old lady, she looked after every blessed
+thing for us all day long en cooked for us right along wid de mindin.
+Well, she would boil us corn meal hominy en give us dat mostly wid milk
+for breakfast. Den dey would have a big garden en she would boil peas en
+give us a lot of soup like dat wid dis here oven bread. Oh, dem what
+worked in de field, dey would catch dey meals when dey could. Would have
+to cook way in de night or sometimes fore day. Cose dey would take dey
+dinner rations wid dem to de field. More or less, dey would cook it in
+de field. Yes'um, dey would carry dey pots wid dem en cook right dere in
+de field whe' dey was workin. Would boil pots en make bread, too. I don'
+know how long dey had to work, mam, but I hear dem say dat dey worked
+hard, cold or hot, rain or shine. Had to hoe cotton en pick cotton en
+all such as dat. I don' know, mam, but de white folks, I guess dey took
+it dat dey had plenty colored people en de Lord never meant for dem to
+do no work. You know, white folks in dem days, dey made de colored
+people do."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"De people used to spin en weave, my Lord! Like today, it cloudy en
+rainy, dey couldn' work in de field en would have to spin dat day. Man,
+you would hear dat thing windin en I remember, I would stand dere en
+want to spin so bad, I never know what to do. Won' long fore I got to
+whe' I could use de shuttle en weave, too. I bad a grandmother en when
+she would get to dat wheel, she sho know what she been doin. White folks
+used to give de colored people task to spin en I mean she could do dat
+spinnin. Yes'um, I here to tell you, dey would make de prettiest cloth
+in dat day en time. Old time people used to have a kind of dye dey
+called indigo en dey would color de cloth just as pretty as you ever did
+see."</p>
+
+<p>"Den I recollects dat dey would have to shuck corn some of de days en
+wouldn' nobody work in de field dat day. Oh, my Lord, dey would have de
+big eats on dem days. Would have a big pot right out to de barn whe' dey
+was shuckin corn en would boil it full as it could hold wid such as peas
+en rice en collards. Would cook big bread, too, en would save a hog's
+head for dat purpose often times."</p>
+
+<p>"Colored people didn' have no schools nowhe' in dat day en time. No'um,
+us didn' go to no church neither cause we was way off dere on de
+plantation en wasn' any church nowhe' bout dere, Miss. I likes to be
+truthful en I tellin you, when we was comin up, we never didn' know
+nothin 'cept what we catch from de old folks."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Old Massa, he used to come to de plantation drivin his rockaway en my
+Lord a mercy, we chillun did love to run en meet him. Dey used to have a
+great big gate to de lane of de plantation en when we been hear him
+comin, we would go a runnin en holler, 'Massa comin! Massa comin!' En he
+would come ridin through de big gate en say, 'Yonder my little niggers!
+How my little niggers? Come here en tell me how you all.' Den we would
+go a runnin to him en try to tell him what he ax us. Yes'um, we was sho
+pleased to see old Massa cause we had to stay right dere on dat
+plantation all de time round bout dat old woman what tended to us. Used
+to hear my mother en my father speak bout dey had to get a ticket from
+dey boss to go anywhe' dey wanted to go off de place. Pataroller catch
+dem off de plantation somewhe' widout dat walkin ticket, dey would whip
+dem most to death. Never didn' hear bout old Massa whippin none of dem,
+but he was very tight on dem, my father say. Cose he give dem abundance
+of rations en somethin to eat all de time, but colored people sho been
+work for what dey would get in dem days. Didn' get nothin dey never pay
+for. It been like dis, what rations us parents would get, dat would be
+to dey house en what we chillun been get would be to de old woman's
+house what took care of us."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Miss, some people stays here wid me, but dey works out en I tries
+to help dem out somehow. No, mam, we all stays right here together en
+while dey on de job, I tries to look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> out for de chillun. I just thinkin
+bout when we come to a certain age, honey, it tough. Chillun is a heap
+of trouble, I say. Well, I was de mother of five, but dey all dead 'cept
+one. My husband, he been dead seven years. Yes'um, dis a bad little girl
+settin here in my lap en dat one over dere in de bed, he a boy what a
+right smart larger den dis one." (Little girl just can stand alone).
+(Little boy wakes up). "Son, dere you wantin to get up en I don' know
+whe' near a rag to put on you is. Dere, you want a piece of bread fore
+you is dress. Who undressed you last night nohow? Boy, you got to stand
+dere en wait till your mamma come home cause I can' find none your rags.
+What de matter wid you? You so hungry, you just standin dere wid your
+mouth droolin dat way. Dere your bread en tea on de bureau. Gwine on en
+get it." (Little boy's breakfast consisted of a cold biscuit and a
+little cold coffee poured in an empty coffee can. The little girl sat
+with a clump of cold hominy in her hand on which she nibbled.)</p>
+
+<p>"Lord, I think what a blessin it would be if chillun dese days was raise
+like dey used to be, Miss. Yes, mam, we had what you call strict fathers
+en mothers den, but chillun ain' got dem dese days. Oh, dey would whip
+you en put de lash to you in dat day en time. Yes'um, Miss, if we never
+do right, my father would put it to us. Sho meant what he say. Wouldn'
+never whip you on Sunday though. Say dat he would get you tomorrow. Den
+when Monday come, he would knock all bout like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> he had forget, but
+toreckly he would call you up en he would sho work on you. Pa say, 'I'm
+not gwine let you catch me in no lie. When I tell you I gwine cut you, I
+gwine do it.' Miss, I is had my mother to hurt me so bad till I would
+just fall down en roll in de sand. Hurt! Dey hurt, dat dey did. Wouldn'
+whip you wid no clothes on neither. Would make you pull off. Yes, mam, I
+could sniffle a week, dey been cut me such licks. Thought dey had done
+me wrong, but dey know dey ain' been doin me wrong en I mean dey didn'
+play wid me."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss, I think folks is livin too fast in de world today. Seems to me
+like all de young people is worser, I say. Well, I tell you, dey be
+ridin out all times of night en girls meetin up wid Miss Fortune. At
+least, our colored girls does. En don' care what dey do neither. Don'
+seem to care what dey do nor how dey do. De girls nowadays, dey gets dey
+livin. Girls settin higher den what dey makes demselves dese days."</p>
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Josephine Bristow, colored, 73 years, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Jan., 1938</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>ANNE BROOME</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 87 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Does you recollect de Galloway place just dis side of White Oak? Well
+dere's where I was born. When? Can't name de 'zact year but my ma say,
+no stork bird never fetch me but de fust railroad train dat come up de
+railroad track, when they built de line, fetched me. She say I was a
+baby, settin' on de cow-ketcher, and she see me and say to pa: 'Reubin,
+run out dere and get our baby befo' her falls off and gets hurt under
+them wheels! Do you know I believed dat tale 'til I was a big girl? Sure
+did, 'til white folks laugh me out of it!</p>
+
+<p>"My ma was name Louisa. My marster was Billie Brice, but 'spect God done
+write sumpin' else on he forehead by dis time. He was a cruel marster;
+he whip me just for runnin' to de gate for to see de train run by. My
+missus was a pretty woman, flaxen hair, blue eyes, name Mary Simonton,
+'til she marry.</p>
+
+<p>"Us live in a two-room plank house. Plenty to eat and enough to wear
+'cept de boys run 'round in their shirt tails and de girls just a
+one-piece homespun slip on in de summer time. Dat was not a hardship
+then. Us didn't know and didn't care nothin' 'bout a 'spectable
+'pearance in those days. Dats de truth, us didn't.</p>
+
+<p>"Gran'pa name Obe; gran'ma, name Rachel. Shoes? A child never have a
+shoe. Slaves wore wooden bottom shoes.</p>
+
+<p>"My white folks went to New Hope Church. Deir chillun was mighty good to
+us all. Dere was Miss Martha, her marry Doctor Madden, right here at
+Winnsboro. Miss Mary marry Marster John Vinson, a little polite smilin'
+man, nice man, though. Then Miss Jane marry Marster John Young. He
+passed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> out, leavin' two lovely chillun, Kitty and Maggie. Both of them
+marry Caldwells. Dere was Marster Calvin, he marry Congressman Wallace's
+daughter, Ellen. Then dere was Marster Jim and Marster William, de last
+went to Florida.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a big place, I tell you, and heaps and heaps of slaves. Some
+times they git too many and sell them off. My old mistress cry 'bout dat
+but tears didn't count wid old marster, as long as de money come a
+runnin' in and de rations stayed in de smoke house.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had a fine carriage. Sam was de driver. Us go to Concord one Sunday
+and new Hope de next. Had quality fair neighbors. Dere was de
+Cockerells, 'Piscopalians, dat 'tend St. John in Winnsboro, de Adgers,
+big buckra, went to Zion in Winnsboro. Marster Burr Cockerell was de
+sheriff. 'Members he had to hang a man once, right in de open jailyard.
+Then dere was a poor buckra family name Marshall. Our white folks was
+good to them, 'cause they say his pappy was close kin to de biggest
+Jedge of our country, John Marshall.</p>
+
+<p>"When de slaves got bad off sick, marster send for Dr. Walter Brice, his
+kin folks. Some times he might send for Dr. Madden, him's son-in-law, as
+how he was.</p>
+
+<p>"When de Yankees come, all de young marsters was off in de 'Federate
+side. I see them now, gallopin' to de house, canteen boxes on their hips
+and de bayonets rattlin' by deir sides. De fust thing they ask, was:
+'You got any wine?' They search de house; make us sing: 'Good Old Time
+'Ligion'; put us to runnin' after de chickens and a cookin'. When they
+leave they burnt de gin house and everything in dere. They burn de
+smoke-house and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> wind up wid burnin' de big house.</p>
+
+<p>"You through wid me now, boss? I sho' is glad of dat. Help all you kin
+to git me dat pension befo' I die and de Lord will bless you, honey. De
+Lord not gwine to hold His hand any longer 'ginst us. Us cleared de
+forests, built de railroads, cleaned up de swamps, and nursed de white
+folks. Now in our old ages, I hopes they lets de old slaves like me see
+de shine of some of dat money I hears so much talk 'bout. They say it's
+free as de gift of grace from de hand of de Lord. Good mornin' and God
+bless you, will be my prayer always. Has you got a dime to give dis old
+nigger, boss?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Murrells Inlet, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Georgetown County</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>MOM HAGAR</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>(Verbatim Conversation)</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Mom Hagar Brown lives in her little weathered cabin on forty odd acres
+left by her husband, Caleb Brown. Caleb died in Georgia where he had
+been sent to the penitentiary for stealing a hog that another man stole.
+Aunt Hagar has grands settled all around her and she and the grands
+divide up the acreage which is planted in corn, sweet potatoes, cotton,
+and some highland rice. She ministers to them all when sick, acts as
+mid-wife when necessary, and divides her all with her kin and
+friends&mdash;white and black. She wages a war on ground-moles, at which she
+laughs and says she resembles. Ground-mole beans almost a foot long
+protect and decorate her yard. She has apple and fig trees, and
+scuppernong grape vines grow rank and try to climb all her trees.</p>
+
+<p>(Monday morning she hobbles up on a stick&mdash;limping and looking sick.)
+Comes in kitchen door.</p>
+
+<p>Lillie: "Aunt Hagar, how you?"</p>
+
+<p>Hagar: "Painful. Doctor tell me I got the tonsil. Want to represent me
+one time and take them out. I say, 'No Doctor! Get in hospital, can't
+get out! Let me stay here till my change come.' Yeddy? I ain't wuth!
+Ain't wuth! Ain't got a piece o' sense. Yeddy? Ellen say she want God to
+take she tomorrow? When you ready it's 'God take me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> now! All right
+son!" (Greeting Zackie who enters kitchen.)</p>
+
+<p>Zackie: "Aunt Hagar, how you feel?"</p>
+
+<p>Hagar: "I ain't wuth son. How's all?"</p>
+
+<p>Zackie: "Need a little more grits!"</p>
+
+<p>Lillie: "Hear Zackie! Mom Hagar, that ain't hinder him ordering
+another!" (The fact that food is scarce doesn't limit Zackie's family.)</p>
+
+<p>Hagar: "You hear bout this Jeremiah broke in somewhere&mdash;get all kinds
+likker and canned things and different thing?"</p>
+
+<p>Zackie: "Must a broke in that place call 'Stumble Inn!' (Very
+seriously.) That Revenue man been there."</p>
+
+<p>Hagar: "I yeddy last night! Say he there in news-paper. Mary say, 'see
+'em in paper!' Mrs. White gone to child funeral. That been in paper too.
+Mary see that in paper. Easter say old lady gone dere. Doctor say better
+go. Child sick. Child seven years old. Fore they get there tell 'em say,
+'Child dead!'</p>
+
+<p>"People gone in patch to pick watermillon. Ain't want child to go. You
+know chillun! Child gone in. Ain't want 'em for go. You know. Child pick
+watermillon. Ketch up one&mdash;I forgotten what pound they say. Roll. Roll
+duh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> watermillon. Roll 'em on snake! They say, 'Snake bite 'em?' Child
+say, 'No. Must a scratch.' See blood run on boy leg. Child get
+unconscion that minute. Gone right out. Jess so. Ease out so. I cry. I
+cry!"</p>
+
+<p>Lillie: "You know 'em, Mom Hagar?"</p>
+
+<p>Hagar: "No! No! Lill, fever got me! Cold get me till my rump dead. Got
+hospital boy rouse one time say, 'Ma, less go home! Red stripe snake
+bite me.'"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Hagar: "Klu Klux?" (Chin cupped in hand&mdash;elbow on knee&mdash;looking way
+off&mdash;)</p>
+
+<p>"Reckon that the way them old timey people call 'em. Have to run way,
+you go church. Going to come in to ketch you or do any mischievous
+thing&mdash;come carry you place they going beat you&mdash;in suit of white. Old
+white man to Wilderness Plantation. Parish old man name. Treat his wife
+bad. Come to house, ain't crack. Come right in suit of white. Drag him
+out&mdash;right to Woodstock there where Mr. Dan get shoot. Put a beating on
+that white man there till he mess up! Oman never gone back to him yet!"</p>
+
+<p>"A man wuz name (I forgot what the man name wuz)&mdash;wuz a white man mess
+round wid a colored woman and they didn't do a God thing but gone and
+put a beating on you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> darling! Come in. Grab you and go. Put a beating
+on you till you can't see. Know they got a good grub to lick you wid.
+They git done you can't sit down. Ain't going carry you just for play
+with."</p>
+
+<p>"Mom Hagar, you wanter vote?"</p>
+
+<p>Hagar: "Oh my God!"</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Hagar are the colored people happier now than the old timey
+slavery time people?"</p>
+
+<p>Hagar: "Young people now got the world by force. Don't care. Got more
+trick than law low. Tricky! Can't beat the old people. Can't equal to
+'em. Some the young people you say 'AMEN' in church they make fun o'
+you. Every tub stand on his own bottom. Can't truss 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"Ma say some dem plan to run way. Say, 'Less run! Less run!' Master
+ketch dem and fetch dem in. Lay 'em cross barrel. Beat dem till they
+wash in blood. Fetch 'em back. Place 'em cross the barrel&mdash;hogsket
+barrel&mdash;Christ! They ramp wash in blood! Beat Ma sister. He sister
+sickly. Never could clear task&mdash;like he want. My Ma have to work he self
+to death to help Henritta so sickly. Clear task to keep from beat. Some
+obersheer mean. Oaks labor. (Meaning her Ma and ma's family were
+laboring on Oaks Plantation&mdash;the plantation where Gov.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> Joseph Allston
+and Theodosia his wife lived on Waccamaw.) Mother Sally Doctor. Ma got
+four chillun. One was Emmeline, one Getty, one Katrine one Hagar! I
+older than Gob (Katrine). Could a call doctor for Gob if I had any
+sense." (Big nuff to gone for doctor when Gob born.)</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Stay in the field!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stay in the field!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stay in the field till the war been end!"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>(This is Aunt Hagar's favorite song)</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Mom Hagar Brown&mdash;age 77</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Murrells Inlet, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">July 4th, 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Murrells Inlet, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Georgetown County</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>(Some recollections of Mom Hagar Brown)</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Visitor: "Mom Hagar, how old did you say you were?"</p>
+
+<p>Hagar: "Don't take care of my age! Had me gang of chillun when ma die. I
+had Samuel, I had Elias, I had Arthur, I had Beck. Oh, my God! Man, go
+way! I had Sally! I had Sally again. I didn't want to give the name
+'Sally' again. Say, 'First Sally come carry girl.' Ma say, 'Gin 'em name
+'Sally!' I faid (afraid) that other one come back for him. Had to do
+what Ma say. Had to please 'em. Ma name Sally. Ma chillun Catrine,
+Hagar, Emmeline, Gettie. I born Columbia. Come Freedom, when we left
+Columbia, ma finer till we get in Charston. Freedom come, battle till we
+get 'Oaks.' (Battled till they reached the 'Oaks Plantation&mdash;.')Stay
+there till people gin (begin) move bout. Come Watsaw. Gone 'Collins
+Creek.' In the 'Reb Time' you know, when they sell you bout&mdash;Massa sell
+you all about. Broke through them briar and branch and thing to go to
+church. Them patrol get you. Church 'Old Bethel.' You don't know 'em.
+Been gone!</p>
+
+<p>"I yeddy ma! (heard my mother) Ma say, 'I too glad my chillun aint been
+here Rebs time! Gin you task you rather drown than not done that task!
+Ma say Auntie poor we weak creeter, couldn't strain. Ma had to strain to
+fetch sister up with her task. Dere (there) in rice-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>field. Ma say they
+on flat going to islant (island), see cloud, pray God send rain! When
+rooster crow, say they pray God to stop 'em! Rooster crow, broke up
+wedder! When rooster crow, scare 'em. Broke up rain! Ma say they drag
+the pot in the river when the flat going cross. Do this to make it rain.
+Massa! Don't done you task, driver wave that whip, put you over the
+barrel, beat you so blood run down! I wouldn't take 'em! Ma say, 'I too
+glad my chillun aint born then!'</p>
+
+<p>"Any cash money? Where you gwine get 'em? Only cash the gospel! Have to
+get the gospel. Give you cloth! Give you ration! Jess (just according)
+many chillun you got. Ma say chillun feed all the corn to the fowl.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chillun say,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">'Papa love he fowl!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Papa love he fowl!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Three peck a day!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Three peck a day!</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Parent come to door. Not a grain of corn leave! Poor people! Come,
+drop! Not a grain! Everybody on the hill help. One give this; one give
+that. Handle 'em light! (Very careful with victuals). Gone you till
+Saddy (Saturday.) (Will last you until Saturday when you are rationed
+again.)</p>
+
+<p>"When Ma get down, she say, 'I gone leave! I gone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> leave here now! But,
+oh, Hagar! Be a mudder and fadder for Katrine!'</p>
+
+<p>"I say, (I call Katrine 'Gob') I say, 'Better tell Gob to look atter
+me!'</p>
+
+<p>"Ma say, 'When I gone I ax the Master when he take me, to send drop o'
+rain to let true believer know I gone to Glory!'</p>
+
+<p>"When they lift the body to take 'em to the church, rain, 'Tit! Tit!
+Tit! Tit!' on the house! At the gate, moon shine out' Going to the
+church! Bury to the 'Oaks.'</p>
+
+<p>"Gob say, 'Titty, all you chillun bury at Oaks. Ma to Oaks. How come you
+wanter bury Watsaw?"</p>
+
+<p>"I say, 'When the trumpet sound, I yeddy!' (When the trumpet sounds,
+I'll hear it!)</p>
+
+<p>"I marry right to Collins Creek hill. Big dance out the door! I free! I
+kick up! Ma, old rebs time people!"</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mom Hagar Brown</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Age&mdash;(She says 'Born first o'</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Freedom' but got her age from</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a contemporary and reported 77)</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Murrells Inlet, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Murrells Inlet, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Georgetown County</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE STORY</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>(Verbatim)</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"My old man can 'member things and tell you things and he word carry. We
+marry to Turkey Hill Plantation. Hot supper. Cake, wine, and all. Kill
+cow, hog, chicken and all. That time when you marry, so much to eat!
+Finance wedding! Now&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"We 'lamp-oil chillun'; they 'lectric light' chillun now! We call our
+wedding 'lamp-oil wedding'. Hall jam full o' people; out-of-door jam
+full. Stand before the chimbley.</p>
+
+<p>"When that first war come through, we born. I don't know just when I
+smell for come in the world.</p>
+
+<p>"Big storm? Yinnah talk big storm hang people up on tree? (Noah!) Shake?
+I here in house. House gone, 'Rack-a-rack-a-racker!'</p>
+
+<p>"My husband run out&mdash;with me and my baby left in bed! Baby just come in
+time of the shake.</p>
+
+<p>"When I first have sense, I 'member I walk on the frost bare-feet.
+Cow-belly shoe.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband mother have baby on the flat going to Marion and he Auntie
+Cinda have a baby on that flat.</p>
+
+<p>"From yout (youth) I been a Brown and marry a Brown; title never change.</p>
+
+<p>"Old timey sing?</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">1.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">"Wish I had a hundred dog</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And half wuz hound!</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Take it in my fadder field</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And we run the rabbit down!</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chorus:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Now he hatch</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He hatch!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He hatch!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And I run the rabbit down!</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">2.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">"I wish I had a hundred head o' dog</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And half of them wuz hound</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I'd take 'em back in my bacco field</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And run the rabbit down.</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chorus:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Now he hatch&mdash;he hatch!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He hatch&mdash;he hatch!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Now he hatch&mdash;he hatch!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And I run them rabbit down!"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"That wuz a sing we used to have on the plantation. Then we make up
+sing&mdash;we have sing for chillun. Make 'em go sleep. Every one have his
+own sing.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Bye-o-baby!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Go sleepy!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bye-o-baby!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Go sleepy!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What a big alligator</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Coming to catch</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">This one boy!"</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Diss here the Watson one boy child!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bye-o-baby go sleepy!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What a big alligator</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Coming to catch this one boy!"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Emmie Jordan: "Missus, I too plague with bad heart trouble to give you
+the sing!"</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Song and conversation Given by</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mom Louisa Brown (Born time of 'Reb people War')</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Waverly Mills, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Near Parkersville, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Jessie A. Butler</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Charleston, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Approximately 930 words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Stories from Ex-slaves</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Henry Brown</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-slave Age 79</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Henry Brown, negro caretaker of the Gibbes House, at the foot of Grove
+street, once a part of Rose Farm, is a splendid example of a type once
+frequently met with in the South. Of a rich brown complexion, aquiline
+of feature, there is none of the "Gullah" about Henry. He is courteous
+and kindly in his manner, and speaks more correctly than the average
+negro.</p>
+
+<p>"My father was Abram Brown, and my mother's name was Lucy Brown," he
+said. "They were slaves of Dr. Arthur Gordon Rose. My grandfather and
+grandmother were grown when they came from Africa, and were man and wife
+in Africa. I was born just about two years before the war so I don't
+remember anything about slavery days, and very little about war times,
+except that we were taken to Deer Pond, about half mile from Columbia.
+Dr. Rose leased the place from Dr. Ray, and took his family there for
+safety. My mother died while he was at Deer Pond, and was buried there,
+but all the rest of my people is buried right here at Rose Farm. My two
+brothers were a lot older than me, and were in the war. After the war my
+brother Tom was on the police force, he was a sergeant, and they called
+him Black Sergeant. My brother Middleton drove the police wagon: they
+used to call it Black Maria.</p>
+
+<p>"My father, Abram Brown, was the driver or head man at Rose plantation.
+Dr. Rose thought a heap of him, and during the war he put some of his
+fine furniture and other things he brought from England in my father's
+house and told him if the Yankees came to say the things belonged to
+him. Soon after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> that the soldiers came. They asked my father who the
+things belonged to and he said they belonged to him. The soldiers asked
+him who gave them to him, and he said his master gave them to him. The
+Yankees told him that they thought he was lying, and if he didn't tell
+the truth they would kill him, but he wouldn't say anything else so they
+left him alone and went away.</p>
+
+<p>"Work used to start on the plantation at four o'clock in the morning,
+when the people went in the garden. At eight or nine o'clock they went
+into the big fields. Everybody was given a task of work. When you
+finished your task you could quit. If you didn't do your work right you
+got a whipping.</p>
+
+<p>"The babies were taken to the Negro house and the old women and young
+colored girls who were big enough to lift them took care of them. At one
+o'clock the babies were taken to the field to be nursed, then they were
+brought back to the Negro house until the mothers finished their work,
+then they would come for them.</p>
+
+<p>"Dr. Rose gave me to his son, Dr. Arthur Barnwell Rose, for a Christmas
+present. After the war Dr. Rose went back to England. He said he
+couldn't stay in a country with so many free Negroes. Then his son Dr.
+Arthur Barnwell Rose had the plantation. Those was good white people,
+good white people.</p>
+
+<p>"The colored people were given their rations once a week, on Monday,
+they got corn, and a quart of molasses, and three pounds of bacon, and
+sometimes meat and peas. They had all the vegetables they wanted; they
+grew them in the gardens. When the boats first came in from Africa with
+the slaves, a big pot of peas was cooked and the people ate it with
+their hands right from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> the pot. The slaves on the plantation went to
+meeting two nights a week and on Sunday they went to Church, where they
+had a white preacher Dr. Rose hired to preach to them.</p>
+
+<p>"After the war when we came back to Charleston I went to work as a
+chimney-sweep. I was seven years old then. They paid me ten cents a
+story. If a house had two stories I got twenty cents; if it had three
+stories I got thirty cents. When I got too big to go up the chimneys I
+went back to Rose plantation. My father was still overseer or driver. I
+drove a cart and plowed. Afterwards I worked in the phosphate mines,
+then came back here to take care of the garden and be caretaker. I
+planted all these Cherokee roses you see round here, and I had a big
+lawn of Charleston grass. I aint able to keep it like I used to."</p>
+
+<p>Henry is intensely religious. He says "the people don't notice God now
+because they're free." "Some people say there aint no hell," he
+continued, "but I think there must be some kind of place like that,
+because you got to go some place when you leave this earth, and you got
+to go to the master that you served when you were here. If you serve God
+and obey His commandments then you go to Him, but if you don't pay any
+attention to what he tells you in His Book, just do as you choose and
+serve the devil, then you got to go to him. And it don't make any
+difference if you're poor or rich, it don't matter what the milliner
+(millionaire) man says."</p>
+
+<p>He seemed so proud of his garden, with its broad view across the Ashley
+River, showing his black walnut, pear and persimmon trees, grape vines
+and roses, that the writer said, "Henry, you know a poet has said that
+we are nearer God<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> in the garden than anywhere else on earth." "Well
+ma'am, you see," he replied, with a winning smile, "that's where God put
+us in the first place."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Augustus Ladson</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Charleston, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE BORN 1857</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>GRAND PARENTS CAME DIRECTLY FROM AFRICA</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>I was nickname' durin' the days of slavery. My name was Henry but they
+call' me Toby. My sister, Josephine, too was nickname' an' call' Jessee.
+Our mistress had a cousin by that name. My oldes' bredder was a Sergeant
+on the Charleston Police Force around 1868. I had two other sister',
+Louise an' Rebecca.</p>
+
+<p>My firs' owner was Arthur Barnwell Rose. Then Colonel A. G. Rhodes
+bought the plantation who sol' it to Capen Frederick W. Wagener. James
+Sottile then got in possession who sol' it to the DeCostas, an' a few
+weeks ago Mrs. Albert Callitin Simms, who I'm tol' is a former member of
+Congress, bought it. Now I'm wonderin' if she is goin' to le' me stay. I
+hope so 'cus I'm ol' now en can't work.</p>
+
+<p>My pa was name' Abraham Brown; he was bo'n on Coals Islan' in Beaufort
+County. Colonel Rhodes bought him for his driver, then he move here. I
+didn't know much 'bout him; he didn't live so long afta slavery 'cus he
+was ol.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Rhodes had a son an' a daughter. The son went back to England
+afta his death an' the daughter went to Germany with her husban'. They
+ain't never come back so the place was sol' for tax.</p>
+
+<p>Durin' the war we was carry to Deer Pond, twelve miles on dis side of
+Columbia. W'en the war was end' pa brought my sister, Louise, Rebecca,
+who was too small to work, Josephine an' me, home. All my people is
+long-lifted. My grand pa an' grand ma on pa side come right from Africa.
+They was stolen an' brought here. They use to tell us of how white men
+had pretty cloth on boats which they was to exchange for some of their
+o'nament'. W'en they take the o'nament' to the boat they was carry way
+down to the bottom an' was lock' in. They was anchored on or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> near
+Sullivan's Islan' w'ere they been feed like dogs. A big pot was use' for
+cookin'. In that pot peas was cook' an' lef' to cool. Everybody went to
+the pot with the han's an' all eat frum the pot.</p>
+
+<p>I was bo'n two years before the war an' was seven w'en it end. That was
+in 1857. I never went to school but five months in my life, but could
+learn easy. Very seldom I had to be tol' to do the same thing twice.</p>
+
+<p>The slaves had a plenty o' vegetables all the time. Master planted t'ree
+acres jus' for the slaves which was attended to in the mornin's before
+tas' time. All provision was made as to the distribution on Monday
+evenin's afta tas'.</p>
+
+<p>My master had two place: one on Big Islan' an' on Coals Islan' in
+Beaufort County. He didn't have any overseer. My pa was his driver.</p>
+
+<p>Pa say this place was given to Mr. Rhodes with a thousand acres of lan'
+by England. But it dwindled to thirty-five w'en the other was taken back
+by England.</p>
+
+<p>There wasn't but ten slaves on this plantation. The driver call' the
+slaves at four so they could git their breakfas'. They always work the
+garden firs' an' at seven go in the co'n an' cotton fiel'. Some finish
+their tas' by twelve an' others work' 'til seven but had the tas' to
+finish. No one was whip' 'less he needed it; no one else could whip
+master' slaves. He wouldn't stan' for it. We had it better then than now
+'cause white men lynch an' burn now an' do other things they couldn't do
+then. They shoot you down like dogs now, an' nothin' said or done.</p>
+
+<p>No slave was suppose' to be whip' in Charleston except at the Sugar
+House. There was a jail for whites, but if a slave ran away an' got
+there he could disown his master an' the state wouldn't le' him take
+you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>All collud people has to have a pass w'en they went travelin'; free as
+well as slaves. If one didn't the patrollers, who was hired by rich
+white men would give you a good whippin' an' sen' you back home. My pa
+didn't need any one to write his pass 'cause he could write as well as
+master. How he got his education, I didn't know.</p>
+
+<p>Sat'day was a workin' day but the tas' was much shorter then other days.
+Men didn't have time to frolic 'cause they had to fin' food for the
+fambly; master never give 'nough to las' the whole week. A peck o' co'n,
+t'ree pound o' beacon, quart o' molasses, a quart o' salt, an' a pack o'
+tobacco was given the men. The wife got the same thing but chillun
+accordin' to age. Only one holiday slaves had an' that was Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>Co'nshuckin' parties was conducted by a group of fa'mers who take their
+slaves or sen' them to the neighborin' ones 'til all the co'n was
+shuck'. Each one would furnish food 'nough for all slaves at his party.
+Some use to have nothin' but bake potatas an' some kind of vegetable.</p>
+
+<p>An unmarried young man was call' a half-han'. W'en he want to marry he
+jus' went to master an' say there's a gal he would like to have for
+wife. Master would say yes an' that night more chicken would be fry an'
+everything eatable would be prepare at master' expense. The couple went
+home afta the supper, without any readin' of matrimony, man an' wife.</p>
+
+<p>A man once married his ma en' didn't know it. He was sell from her w'en
+'bout eight years old. When he grow to a young men, slavery then was
+over, he met this woman who he like' an' so they were married. They was
+married a month w'en one night they started to tell of their experiences
+an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> how many times they was sol'. The husban' tol' how he was sol' from
+his mother who liked him dearly. He tol' how his ma faint' w'en they
+took him away an' how his master then use to bran' his baby slaves at a
+year ol'. W'en he showed her the bran' she faint' 'cause she then
+realize' that she had married her son.</p>
+
+<p>Slaves didn't have to use their own remedy for sickness for good doctors
+been hired to look at them. There was, as is, though, some weed use for
+fever an' headache as: blacksnake root, furrywork, jimpsin weed, one
+that tie' on the head which bring sweat from you like hail, an' hickory
+leaf. If the hickory is keep on the head too long it will blister it.</p>
+
+<p>W'en the war was fightin' the white men burn the bridge at the foot of
+Spring Street so the Yankees couldn't git over but they buil' pontoos
+while some make the horses swim 'cross. One night while at Deer Pond, I
+hear something like thunder until 'bout eleven the next day. W'en the
+thing I t'ought was thunder stop', master tell us that evenin' we was
+free. I wasn't surprise to know for as little as I was I know the
+Yankees was goin' to free us with the help of God.</p>
+
+<p>I was married twice, an' had two gals an' a boy with firs' wife. I have
+t'ree boys with the second; the younges' is jus' eight.</p>
+
+<p>Lincoln did jus' what God inten' him to do, but I think nothin' 'bout
+Calhoun on 'account of what he say in one of his speech 'bout collud
+people. He said: "keep the niggers down."</p>
+
+<p>To see collud boys goin' 'round now with paper an' pencil in their han's
+don't look real to me. Durin' slavery he would be whip' 'til not a skin
+was lef' on his body.</p>
+
+<p>My pa was a preacher why I become a Christian so early; he preach' on
+the plantation to the slaves. On Sunday the slaves went to the white
+church. He use to tell us of hell an' how hot it is. I was so 'fraid of
+hell 'til I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> was always tryin' to do the right thing so I couldn't go to
+that terrible place.</p>
+
+<p>I don't care 'bout this worl' an' its vanities 'cause the Great Day is
+comin' w'en I shall lay down an' my stammerin' tongue goin' to lie
+silent in my head. I want a house not made with han's but eternal in the
+Heavens. That Man up there, is all I need; I'm goin' to still trus' Him.
+Before the comin' of Chris' men was kill' for His name sake; today they
+curse Him. It's nearly time for the world to come to en' for He said
+"bout two thousand years I shall come again" an' that time is fas'
+approachin'.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interview with Henry Brown, 637 Grove Street. He is much concerned with</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Scottsboro Case and discusses the invasion of Italy into defenseless</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ethiopia intelligently.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b>,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>JOHN C. BROWN AND ADELINE BROWN</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVES 86 YEARS AND 96 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>John C. Brown and his wife, Adeline, who is eleven years older than
+himself, live in a ramshackle four-room frame house in the midst of a
+cotton field, six miles west of Woodward, S. C. John assisted in laying
+the foundation and building the house forty-four years ago. A single
+china-berry tree, gnarled but stately, adds to, rather than detracts
+from, the loneliness of the dilapidated house. The premises and
+thereabout are owned by the Federal Land Bank. The occupants pay no
+rent. Neither of them are able to work. They have been fed by charity
+and the W. P. A. for the past eighteen months.</p>
+
+<p>(John talking)</p>
+
+<p>"Where and when I born? Well, dat'll take some 'hear say', Mister. I
+never knowed my mammy. They say she was a white lady dat visited my old
+marster and mistress. Dat I was found in a basket, dressed in nice baby
+clothes, on de railroad track at Dawkins, S. C. De engineer stop de
+train, got out, and found me sumpin' like de princess found Moses, but
+not in de bulrushes. Him turn me over to de conductor. De conductor
+carry me to de station at Dawkins, where Marse Tom Dawkins come to meet
+de train dat mornin' and claim me as found on his land. Him say him had
+de best right to me. De conductor didn't 'ject to dat. Marse Tom carry
+me home and give me to Miss Betsy. Dat was his wife and my mistress. Her
+always say dat Sheton Brown was my father. He was one of de slaves on de
+place; de carriage driver. After freedom he tell me he was my real
+pappy. Him took de name of Brown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> and dat's what I go by.</p>
+
+<p>"My father was a ginger-bread colored man, not a full-blooded nigger.
+Dat's how I is altogether yallow. See dat lady over dere in dat chair?
+Dat's my wife. Her brighter skinned than I is. How come dat? Her daddy
+was a full-blooded Irishman. He come over here from Ireland and was
+overseer for Marse Bob Clowney. He took a fancy for Adeline's mammy, a
+bright 'latto gal slave on de place. White women in them days looked
+down on overseers as poor white trash. Him couldn't git a white wife but
+made de best of it by puttin' in his spare time a honeyin' 'round
+Adeline's mammy. Marse Bob stuck to him, and never 'jected to it.</p>
+
+<p>"When de war come on, Marse Richard, de overseer, shoulder his gun as a
+soldier and, as him was educated more than most of de white folks, him
+rise to be captain in de Confederate Army. It's a pity him got kilt in
+dat war.</p>
+
+<p>"My marster, Tom Dawkins, have a fine mansion. He owned all de land
+'round Dawkins and had 'bout 200 slaves, dat lived in good houses and
+was we well fed. My pappy was de man dat run de mill and grind de wheat
+and corn into flour and meal. Him never work in de field. He was 'bove
+dat. Him 'tend to de ginnin' of de cotton and drive de carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"De Yankees come and burn de mansion, de gin-house and de mill. They
+take all de sheep, mules, cows, hogs and even de chickens. Set de slaves
+free and us niggers have a hard time ever since.</p>
+
+<p>"My black stepmammy was so mean to me dat I run away. I didn't know
+where to go but landed up, one night, at Adeline's mammy's and
+steppappy's house, on Marse Bob Clowney's place. They had been slaves of
+Marse Bob and was livin' and workin' for him. I knock on de door. Mammy
+Charity, dat's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> Adeline's mammy, say: 'Who dat?' I say: 'Me'. Her say:
+'Who is me?' I say: 'John'. Her say: 'John who?' I say: 'Just John'. Her
+say: 'Adeline, open de door, dat's just some poor boy dat's cold and
+hungry. Charity is my fust name. Your pappy ain't come yet but I'll let
+dat boy in 'til he come and see what he can do 'bout it.'</p>
+
+<p>"When Adeline open dat door, I look her in de eyes. Her eyes melt
+towards me wid a look I never see befo' nor since. Mind you, I was just
+a boy fourteen, I 'spects, and her a woman twenty-five then. Her say:
+'You darlin' little fellow; come right in to de fire.' Oh, my! She took
+on over me! Us wait 'til her pappy come in. Then him say: 'What us gonna
+do wid him?' Adeline say: 'Us gonna keep him.' Pappy say: 'Where he
+gonna sleep?' Adeline look funny. Mammy say: 'Us'll fix him a pallet by
+de fire.' Adeline clap her hands and say: 'You don't mind dat, does you
+boy?' I say: 'No ma'am, I is slept dat way many a time.'</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I work for Marse Bob Clowney and stayed wid Adeline's folks two
+years. I sure made myself useful in dat family. Never 'spicioned what
+Adeline had in her head, 'til one day I climbed up a hickory nut tree,
+flail de nuts down, come down and was helpin' to pick them up when she
+bump her head 'ginst mine and say: 'Oh, Lordy!' Then I pat and rub her
+head and it come over me what was in dat head! Us went to de house and
+her told de folks dat us gwine to marry.</p>
+
+<p>"Her led me to de altar dat nex' Sunday. Gived her name to de preacher
+as Adeline Cabean. I give de name of John Clowney Brown. Marse Bob was
+dere and laugh when de preacher call my name, 'John Clowney Brown'.</p>
+
+<p>"Our chillun come pretty fast. I was workin' for $45.00 a year, wid
+rations. Us had three pounds of bacon, a peck of meal, two cups of
+flour, one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> quart of 'lasses, and one cup of salt, a week.</p>
+
+<p>"Us never left Marse Robert as long as him lived. When us have four
+chillun, him increase de amount of flour to four cups and de 'lasses to
+two quarts. Then him built dis house for de old folks and Adeline and de
+chillun to live in. I help to build it forty-four years ago. Our chillun
+was Clarice, Jim, John, Charity, Tom, Richard, and Adeline.</p>
+
+<p>"I followed Marse Robert Clowney in politics, wore a red shirt, and
+voted for him to go to de Legislature. Him was 'lected dat time but
+never cared for it no more.</p>
+
+<p>"Adeline b'long to de church. Always after me to jine but I can't
+believe dere is anything to it, though I believes in de law and de Ten
+Commandments. Preacher calls me a infidel. Can't help it. They is maybe
+got me figured out wrong. I believes in a Great Spirit but, in my time,
+I is seen so many good dogs and hosses and so many mean niggers and
+white folks, dat I 'clare, I is confused on de subject. Then I can't
+believe in a hell and everlastin' brimstone. I just think dat people is
+lak grains of corn: dere is some good grains and some rotten grains. De
+good grains is res'rected, de rotten grains never sprout again. Good
+people come up again and flourish in de green fields of Eden. Bad people
+no come up. Deir bodies and bones just make phosphate guano, 'round de
+roots of de ever bloomin' tree of life. They lie so much in dis world,
+maybe de Lord will just make 'lie' soap out of them. What you think else
+they would be fit for?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Martha S. Pinckney</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Charleston, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Approx. 660 words</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>INTERVIEW WITH EX-SLAVE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Age 88-90</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Mary Frances Brown is a typical product of the old school of trained
+house servants, an unusual delicate type, somewhat of the Indian cast,
+to which race she is related. She is always clean and neat, a refined
+old soul, as individuals of that class often are. Her memory, sight and
+hearing are good for her advanced age.</p>
+
+<p>"Our home Marlboro. Mas Luke Turnage was my
+master&mdash;Marlboro-Factory-Plantation name 'Beauty Spot'. My missis was
+right particular about neat and clean. She raise me for a house girl. My
+missis was good to me, teach me ebbery ting, and take the Bible and
+learn me Christianified manners, charity, and behaviour and good
+respect, and it with me still.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn't have any hard times, our owners were good to us&mdash;no over
+share (overseer) and no whippin'&mdash;he couldn't stan' that. I live there
+'til two year after freedom; how I come to leave, my mother sister been
+sick, and she ask mother to send one of us, an she send me. My mother
+been Miss Nancy cook. Miss Nancy was Mas Luke's mother&mdash;it take me two
+years learning to eat the grub they cook down here in Charleston. I had
+to learn to eat these little piece of meat&mdash;we had a dish full of meat;
+the big smoke house was lined from the top down. (Describing how the
+meat hung) I nebber accustom to dese little piece of meat, so&mdash;what dey
+got here. Missis, if you know smoke house, didn't you find it hard? My
+master had 'til he didn't know what to do with. My white people were
+Gentile." (Her tone implied that she considered them the acme of gentle
+folks). "I don't know what the other people were name that didn't have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>
+as much as we had&mdash;but I know my people were Gentile!"</p>
+
+<p>Just here her daughter and son appeared, very unlike their mother in
+type. The daughter is quite as old looking as her mother; the son, a
+rough stevedore. When the writer suggested that the son must be a
+comfort, she looked down sadly and said in a low tone, as if
+soliloquizing, "He way is he way." Going back to her former thought, she
+said, "All our people were good. Mas Luke was the worse one." (This she
+said with an indulgent smile) "Cause he was all the time at the race
+ground or the fair ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Religion rules Heaven and Earth, an there is no religion
+now&mdash;harricanes an washin-aways is all about. Ebberything is change. Dis
+new name what they call grip is pleurisy-cold&mdash;putrid sore-throat is
+called somethin'&mdash;yes, diptheria. Cuttin (surgery) come out in 1911!
+They kill an they cure, an they save an they loss.</p>
+
+<p>"My Gran'ma trained with Indians&mdash;she bin a Indian, an Daniel C. McCall
+bought her. She nebber loss a baby." (the first Indian relationship that
+the writer can prove). "You know Dr. Jennings? Ebberybody mus' know him.
+After he examine de chile an de mother, an 'ee alright, he hold de nurse
+responsible for any affection (infection) that took place.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I know de spiritual&mdash;but Missis, my voice too weak to sing&mdash;dey
+aint in books; if I hear de name I can sing&mdash;'The Promise Land', Oh, how
+Mas Joel Easterling (born 1796) use to love to sing dat!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>"</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"I am bound for de Promise Land!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh! who will arise an go with me?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I am bound for the Promise Land!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I've got a mother in the Promise Land,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My mother calls me an I mus go,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To meet her in the Promise Land!"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Mary Frances Brown, Age 88-90, East Bay Street, Charleston,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Cassels R. Tiedeman</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Charleston, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>INTERVIEW WITH AN EX-SLAVE</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Mary Frances Brown, about ninety years of age, born in slavery, on the
+plantation of Luke Turnage, in Marlboro County, was raised as a
+house-servant and shows today evidence of most careful training. Her
+bearing is rather a gentle refined type, seemingly untouched by the
+squalor in which she lives. She willingly gives freely of her small
+store of strength to those around her.</p>
+
+<p>Her happiest days seem to have been those of her early youth, for when
+she was questioned about the present times, and even about those closely
+associated with her today she bowed her head and said: "Deir way is deir
+way. O! let me tell you now, de world is in a haad (hard) time, wust
+(worse) den it eber (ever) been, but religion! It eberywhere in Hebben
+an' in de ert (earth) too, if you want em. De trouble is you ain't want
+em; 'e right dere jes de same but de time done pass when dis generation
+hold wid anyt'ing but de debbul. When I a gal, grown up, I had a tight
+missus dat raise me, you hab to keep clean round her, she good an' kind
+an' I lub her yet, but don't you forgit to mind what she say.</p>
+
+<p>"My massa, he 'low no whipping on de plantation, he talk heap an' he
+scold plenty, but den he hab to. Dere was haad time for two year after
+de war was ober (over) but after dat it better den it is now. Dis is de
+wust time eber. I ain't eber git use to de wittle (victual) you hab down
+here.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> I lib ober Mount Pleasant twenty five year after I come from de
+old place up Marlboro, den I come to Charleston.</p>
+
+<p>"Dey were happy time back dere. My massa, he run round ebery way, spend
+plenty money on horse race, he gib good time to eberybody an' tell us we
+mus' tek good care of de missus when he ain't dere. An de wittles we hab
+I ain't nebber see de lak no time. Dem were de times to lib. I old now
+but I ain't forgit what my missus larn (learn) me. It right here in me."</p>
+
+<p>Mary Frances was asked if she could sing spirituals. The following is
+one that she sang in a very high pitched wavering voice and then she
+complained of shortness of breath on account of her heart.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"We got a home ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come an' let us go,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come an' let us go,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber (never) die.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chorus:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Oh! let us go where pleasure neber die,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Neber die,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come and let us go,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die, neber die.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Mother is gone ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother is gone ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chorus:</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Father is gone ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Father is gone ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chorus:</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Sister is gone ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sister is gone ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chorus:</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Brudder is gone ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Brudder is gone ober dere,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where pleasure neber die."</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chorus:</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Interview with Mary Frances Brown, 83 East Bay St.,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Charleston, S. C. (age&mdash;90)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No. &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project. 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, July 8, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced From &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>MOM SARA BROWN</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 85 years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Oh, my God, de doctors have me in slavery time. Been here de startin of
+de first war. I belong to de Cusaac dat live 15 miles low Florence on de
+road what take you on to Georgetown. I recollects de Yankees come dere
+in de month of June en free de colored peoples."</p>
+
+<p>"My white folks give me to de doctors in dem days to try en learn me for
+a nurse. Don' know exactly how old I was in dat day en time, but I can
+tell you what I done. My Lord, child, can' tell dat. Couldn' never tell
+how many baby I bring in dis world, dey come so fast. I betcha I got
+more den dat big square down dere to de courthouse full of em. I nurse
+13 head of chillun in one family right here in dis town. You see dat all
+I ever did have to do. Was learnt to do dat. De doctor tell me, say,
+when you call to a 'oman, don' you never hesitate to go en help her en
+you save dat baby en dat mother both. Dat what I is always try to do.
+Heap of de time just go en let em pay me by de chance. Oh, my Lord, a
+'oman birth one of dem babies here bout two weeks ago wid one of dem
+veil over it face. De Lord know what make dat, I don', but dem kind of
+baby sho wiser den de other kind of baby. Dat thing look just like a
+thin skin dat stretch over da baby face en come down low it's chin. Have
+to take en pull it back over it's forehead en den de baby can see en
+holler all it ever want to. My blessed, honey, wish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> I had many a dollar
+as I see veil over baby face. Sho know all bout dem kind of things."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, honey, I tell you de people bless dis day en time. Don' know nothin
+bout how to be thankful enough for what dey have dese days. I tell de
+truth de peoples sho had to scratch bout en make what dey had in slavery
+time. Baby, dey plant patches of okra en parch dat en make what coffee
+dey have. Den dey couldn' get no shoes like dey hab dese days neither.
+Just make em out of de hide of dey own cows dat dey butcher right dere
+on de plantation. Coase de peoples had plenty sometin to eat like meat
+en turkey en chicken en thing like dat. Oh, my God, couldn' see de top
+of de smoke house for all de heap of meat dey have in dem times. En milk
+en butter, honey, dey didn' never be widout plenty of dat. De peoples
+bout here dese days axes ten cents a quart for sweet milk en five cents
+a quart for old sour clabber. What you think bout dat? Dat how-come
+people have to hunt jobs so mucha dese days. Have to do some sorta work
+cause you know dey got to put sometin in dey mouth somewhe' or another.
+Oh, my child, slavery days was troublesome times. Sugar en salt never
+run free wid de peoples den neither. I know de day been here when salt
+was so scarce dat dey had to go to de seashore en get what salt dey had.
+I gwine to tell you all bout dat. Dey hitch up two horses to a wagon en
+den dey make another horse go in front of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> de wagon to rest de other
+horses long de way. Dey mostly go bout on a Monday en stay three days.
+Boil dat salty water down dere en fetch two en three of dem barrel of
+salt back wid em dey get dat way. It was just like dis, it take heap of
+salt when dey had dem big hog-killin days. En de sugar, dey make dat
+too. Made de sugar in lil blocks dat dey freeze just like dey freeze ice
+dis day en time. I know dey do dat&mdash;know it. Dey make molasses en some
+of it would be lighter den de other en dey freeze dat en make de
+prettiest lil squares just like de ice you see dese days. Dey have
+sometin to freeze it in. Dis here old black mammy know heap of things
+you ain' never hear bout. Oh, baby, de peoples sho bless dese days."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my god, de colored peoples worship to de white folks church in
+slavery time. You know dat Hopewell Church over de river dere, dat a
+slavery church. Dat whe' I go to church den wid my white folks. I had a
+lil chair wid a cowhide bottom dat I always take everywhe' I go wid me.
+If I went to church, dat chair go in de carriage wid me en den I take it
+in de church en set right by de side of my Miss. Dat how it was in
+slavery time. Oh, my Lord, dere a big slavery people graveyard dere to
+dat Hopewell Church."</p>
+
+<p>"Honey, you mind if I smoke my pipe a lil whilst I settin here talkin
+wid you. I worry so much wid dis high blood dese<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> days en a ringin in my
+ears dat my pipe de only thing dat does seem to satisfy my soul. I tell
+you dat high blood a bad thing. It get such a hold on me awhile back dat
+I couldn' do nothin, couldn' pick cotton, couldn' say my&mdash;me, couldn'
+even say, God a mighty&mdash;thing pretty. Oh, I don' know. I start smokin
+pipe long time ago when I first start nursin babies. Had to do sometin
+like dat den."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Lord, I never believe nothin bout dat but what God put here. I hear
+some people say dey was conjure, but I don' pay no attention to dey
+talk. Dey say somebody poison em for sometin dey do, but dere ain'
+nobody do dat. God gwine to put you down when he get ready. Ain' nobody
+else do dat."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my Lord, I been here a time. I sho been here a time en I thank de
+Lord I here dis day en time. I can thread my needle good as ever I could
+en I ain' have no speck neither. Sew night en day. De chillun have dey
+lamp dere studyin en I hab my lamp dere sewin. My old Miss learnt me to
+sew when I stay right in de house wid her all de time. I stay bout white
+folks all my life en dat how-come I so satisfy when I wid em."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Mom Sara Brown, age 85, ex-slave, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Personal interview, June 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No. &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, September 10, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>MOM SARA BROWN</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 85 Years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"I stay in house over dere cross Catfish Swamp on Miss Addie McIntyre
+place. Lives wid dis grand-daughter dat been sick in bed for four weeks,
+but she mendin some now. She been mighty low, child. It start right in
+here (chest) en run down twixt her shoulder. She had a tear up cold too,
+but Dr. Dibble treat her en de cough better now. She got three chillun
+dere dat come just like steps. One bout like dat en another like dat en
+de other bout like dis."</p>
+
+<p>"De house we stay in a two room house wid one of dese end chimney. All
+sleep in de same room en cook en eat in de other room. My bed on one
+side en Sue bed on de other side. Put chillun on quilts down on de floor
+in de other end of de room. Baby, whe' dem curtains you say you gwine
+give me? I gwine hang dese up in Sue room. Dey help me fix up de room
+nice en decent like."</p>
+
+<p>"It all on me to feed en clothe both dem chillun en de baby too. It just
+too much on me old as I is. Can' do nothin worth to speak bout hardly
+dese days. Can' hold my head down cause dis high blood worries me so
+much. It get too hot, can' iron. If ain' too hot, I makes out to press
+my things somehow en sweep my yard bout. Sometimes I helps little bit
+wid doctor case, but not often. Can wash de baby en de mother, but can'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
+do no stayin up at night. No, baby, can' do no settin up at night."</p>
+
+<p>"I tries to catch all what little I can to help along cause dat how I
+was raise up. Government truck brings me little somethin once a month
+pack up in packages like dry milk en oatmeal en potatoes. Give dat to
+all dem dat can' work en ain' got nobody to help dem. Dat dry milk a
+good thing to mix up de bread wid en den it a help to fix little milk en
+bread for dem two little ones. De potatoes, I stews dem for de chillun
+too. Dey mighty fond of dem. Now de oatmeal, de chillun don' eat dat so
+I fixes it for Sue en every now en den I takes a little bit wid my
+breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>"I don' know much what to tell you bout Abraham Lincoln. I think he was
+a mighty great man, a mighty great man, what I hear of him."</p>
+
+<p>"I remembers de Yankees come dere to my white folks plantation one day
+en, child, dere was a time on dat place. All dem niggers was just a
+kickin up dey heels en shoutin. I was standin dere on de piazza lookin
+at dem en I say, 'I don' see why dey want to carry on like dat for. I
+been free all de time.' When dey get through de Yankees tell dem dey was
+free as dey Massa was en give dem so many bushels of corn en so much
+meat for dey own. Some take dey pile en go on off en some choose to stay
+on dere wid dey Missus. She was good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> to all her colored people en dey
+stay on dere for part de crop. Give dem so much of de crop accordin to
+de chillun dey had to feed. I know dis much, dey all know dey gwine get
+12 bushels of corn a year, if dey ain' get no more. Dat a bushel every
+month. Yes, dat how it was."</p>
+
+<p>"O Lord, baby, I don' know a thing bout none of dat thing call conjurin.
+Don' know nothin bout it. Dat de devil work en I ain' bother wid it. Dey
+say some people can kill you, but dey ain' bother me. Some put dey trust
+in it, but not me. I put my trust in de Lord cause I know it just a talk
+de people have. No, Lord, I can' remember dat neither. I hear dem say
+Raw Head en Bloody Bones would catch you if you be bad, but how it
+started, I don' know. I know I don' know nothin bout how dey look en I
+don' want to see dem neither. No, child, people say dey sho to be, but I
+ain' see none. How dey look, I don' know."</p>
+
+<p>"I don' know what to think bout de times dese days. De times worse den
+dey used to be, child. You know dey worse. Dis here a fast time de
+people livin on cause everybody know de people die out heap faster den
+dey used to. Don' care how dey kill you up. No, child, dey sho worser.
+My people en yunnah people. Don' it seem so to you dat dey worser?"</p>
+
+<p>"Baby, I got to get up from here en leave now cause I huntin medicine
+dis mornin. I ain' got time to tell you nothin else dis time, but I
+gwine get my mind fix up on it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> en den your old black mammy comin back
+fore long en stay all day wid you en your mamma. What time dat clock say
+it now, honey? I got to hurry en catch de doctor fore he get away from
+his office en be so scatter bout till nobody can' tell whe' he is. Dr.
+Dibble a good doctor, a mighty good doctor. When he come, don' never
+come in no hurry. Takes pains wid you. Dat been my doctor. I is just
+devoted to him."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Mom Sara Brown, ex-slave, age 85, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Second Report.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Personal interview, September, 1937 by Annie Ruth</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Davis, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Murrells Inlet, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Georgetown County</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>(Some recollections of 'The Reb Time day' given by</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Aunt Margaret Bryant)</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Visitor: "How are you Aunt Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret: "Missus, I ain't wuth! I ain't wuth!"</p>
+
+<p>Visitor: "Aunt Margaret you've been here a long time. How old are you?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret: "I can't tell you my age no way in the world! When freedom
+come, I been here. Not big nuff (enough) for work for the Reb, but I
+been here Reb time. Been big nuff (enough) to know when Yankee gun-boat
+come to Watsaw (Wachesaw). Whole gang o' Yankee come to the house and
+didn't do a thing but ketch (catch) a gang o' fowl and gone on. And tell
+the people (meaning the slaves) to take the house and go in and get what
+they want. The obersheer (overseer) hear the Doctor whistle to the gate
+and wabe (wave) him back. And then the Doctor know the Yankee been there
+and he gone on to the creek house and get all he gold and ting (thing)
+out the house and gone&mdash;Marion till Freedom then he come back.</p>
+
+<p>"Yankee come in that night. Moon shine lak a day. Stay in the Doctor
+house that night. Morning come, take a gang o' fowl and gone on!"</p>
+
+<p>Visitor: "Aunt Margaret, what was your name before you were married?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Margaret: "Margaret One. Brother and sister? I ain't one when I come
+here. Ain't meet aunty, uncle&mdash;none. Me and my brudder Michael wuz twin.
+I ain't meet none when I come here. All been sell. Me and my Ma One
+here. Mary One. Husband title, husband nichel (initial) been 'One.'
+Number one carpenter&mdash;give 'em that name Michael One&mdash;and he gibe 'em
+that name. Born Sandy Island. Been to landing to Watsaw when gun-boat
+come. Just a sneak long! Boat white. Hab (have) a red chimbley
+(chimney.) Didn't try to carry we off. Tell 'em 'Go and help youself.'
+Been after the buckra. (The Yankee trying to catch the buckra.)</p>
+
+<p>"I see my Ma dye with some bush they call 'indigo,' and black walnut
+bark. Big old pen for the sheep-folds.</p>
+
+<p>"My Pa sister, Ritta One had that job. Nuss (nurse) the chillun. Chillun
+house. One woman nuss (nurse) all the chillun while they ma in the
+field&mdash;rice field. All size chillun. Git the gipsy (gypsum) weed. Beat
+'em up for worm. Give 'em when the moon change. Take a bucket and follow
+dem. And tell the Doctor how much a worm that one make and that one and
+count dem (them). When the moon change, do that.</p>
+
+<p>"I have one born with caul. Loss he caul. Rat carry 'em. Ain't here; he
+see nothin. (The custom seems to be,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> to preserve the caul.)</p>
+
+<p>"Child born feet fore-most see 'um too." (See spirit) "Talk chillun? Put
+duh switch. Put you 'Bull pen.' Hab 'um (have them) a place can't see
+you hand before you. Can't turn round good in there. Left you in there
+till morning. Give you fifty lash and send you to work. You ain't done
+that task, man and woman lick!</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't manage my ma. Obersheer (overseer) want to lick ma, Mary One
+say, 'Going drownded meself! I done my work! Fore I take a lick, rather
+drownded meself.'" Obersheer gone tell the Doctor. Tie her long rope.
+Right to Sandy Island. Man hold the rope. Gone on. Jump in river. So
+Doctor say, 'You too good labor for drown. Take dem (them) to Watsaw.'
+Me and she and man what paddle the boat. Bring her to weave. Two womans
+fuh card; two spin. Ma wop 'em off. Sail duh sheckel (shuttle) through
+there.</p>
+
+<p>"Po-buckra come there and buy cloth from Ma. Buy three and four yard. Ma
+sell that, have to weave day and night to make up that cloth to please
+obersheer. Come big day time. 'Little chillun, whey (where) Mama?' Tell
+'em Ma to the weaving house. Don't have money fuh pay. Bring hog and
+such like as that to pay.</p>
+
+<p>"You know Marse Allard age? Me and Marse Allard suck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> together. Me and
+Marse Allard and my brudder Michael. My ma fadder mix wid (with) the
+Injun. Son Larry Aikens. Stay Charston (Charlestown). Just as clean!
+(Meaning Larry, her Uncle, very bright skin. Mixed with Indian.) See 'em
+the one time. Come from Charston bring Doctor two horse."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Given by Aunt Margaret Bryant</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Age&mdash;(Born before Freedom)</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Murrells Inlet, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>SAVILLA BURRELL, EX-SLAVE, 83 YEARS</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Our preacher, Beaty, told me that you wanted to see me today. I walked
+three miles dis mornin' before the sun gits hot to dis house. Dis house
+is my grand daughter's house. Willie Caldwell, her husband, work down to
+de cotton mill. Him make good money and take good care of her, bless the
+Lord, I say."</p>
+
+<p>"My Marster in slavery time was Captain Tom Still. He had big plantation
+down dere on Jackson Crick. My Mistress name was Mary Ann, though she
+wasn't his fust wife&mdash;jest a second wife, and a widow when she
+captivated him. You know widows is like dat anyhow, 'cause day done had
+'sperience wid mens and wraps dem 'round their little finger and git dem
+under their thumb 'fore the mens knows what gwine on. Young gals have a
+poor chance against a young widow like Miss Mary Ann was. Her had her
+troubles with Marse Tom after her git him, I tell you, but maybe best
+not to tell dat right now anyways."</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Tom had four chillun by his fust wife, dey was John, Sam,
+Henretta and I can't 'member de name of the other one; least right now.
+Dey teached me to call chillun three years old, young Marse and say
+Missie. Dey whip you if dey ever hear you say old Marse or old Missie.
+Dat riled dem."</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy name Sam. My mother name Mary. My pappy did not live on the
+same place as mother. He was a slave of de Hamiltons, and he got a pass
+sometimes to come and be with her; not often. Grandmammy name Ester and
+she belonged to our Marse Tom Still, too."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Us lived in a log cabin wid a stick chimney. One time de sticks got
+afire and burnt a big hole in de back of de chimney in cold winter time
+wid the wind blowing, and dat house was filled wid fire-sparks, ashes,
+and smoke for weeks 'fore dey tore dat chimney down and built another
+jest like the old one. De bed was nailed to de side of de walls. How
+many rooms? Jest one room."</p>
+
+<p>"Never seen any money. How many slaves? So many you couldn't count dem.
+Dere was plenty to eat sich as it was, but in the summer time before us
+git dere to eat de flies would be all over de food and some was swimmin'
+in de gravy and milk pots. Marse laugh 'bout dat, and say, it made us
+fat."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey sell one of mother's chillun once, and when she take on and cry
+'bout it, Marse say, 'stop dat sniffin' dere if you don't want to git a
+whippin'.' She grieve and cry at night 'bout it. Clothes? Yes Sir, us
+half naked all de time. Grown boys went 'round bare footed and in dey
+shirt tail all de summer."</p>
+
+<p>"Marse was a rich man. 'Fore Christmus dey would kill thirty hogs and
+after Christmus, thirty more hogs. He had a big gin house and sheep,
+goats, cows, mules, hosses, turkeys, geese, and a stallion; I members
+his name, Stockin'-Foot. Us little niggers was skeered to death of dat
+stallion. Mothers used to say to chillun to quiet dem, 'Better hush,
+Stockin'-Foot will git you and tramp you down.' Any child would git
+quiet at dat."</p>
+
+<p>"Old Marse was de daddy of some mulatto chillun. De 'lations wid de
+mothers of dese chillun is what give so much grief to Mistress. De
+neighbors would talk 'bout it and he would sell all dem chillun away
+from dey mothers to a trader. My Mistress would cry 'bout dat.</p>
+
+<p>"Our doctor was old Marse son-in-law, Dr. Martin. I seen him cup a man
+once. He was a good doctor. He give slaves castor oil, bleed dem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> some
+times and make dem take pills."</p>
+
+<p>"Us looked for the Yankees on dat place like us look now for de Savior
+and de host of angels at de second comin'. Dey come one day in February.
+Dey took everything carryable off de plantation and burnt de big house,
+stables, barns, gin house and dey left the slave houses."</p>
+
+<p>"After de war I marry Osborne Burrell and live on de Tom Jordan place.
+I'se de mother of twelve chillun. Jest three livin' now. I lives wid the
+Mills family three miles 'bove town. My son Willie got killed at de
+DuPont Powder Plant at Hopewell, Virginia, during de World War. Dis
+house you settin' in belongs to Charlie Caldwell. He marry my grand
+daughter, Willie B. She is twenty-three years old."</p>
+
+<p>"Young Marse Sam Still got killed in de Civil War. Old Marse live on. I
+went to see him in his last days and I set by him and kept de flies off
+while dere. I see the lines of sorrow had plowed on dat old face and I
+'membered he'd been a captain on hoss back in dat war. It come into my
+'membrance de song of Moses; 'de Lord had triumphed glorily and de hoss
+and his rider have been throwed into de sea'."</p>
+
+<p>"You been good to listen. Dis is the fust time I can git to speak my
+mind like dis mornin'. All de' people seem runnin' here and yonder,
+after dis and after dat. Dere is a nudder old slave, I'se gwine to bring
+him down here Saturday and talk to you again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Sept. 15, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I works on de shares and makes a fair living on a rented farm; don't
+own no land. I was born in Newberry County, near de old Longshore store,
+about 12 miles northwest of Newberry Courthouse on de Henry Burton
+place. My parents belonged to Henry Burton in slavery time. He was our
+marster. I married Betty Burton, a nigger girl whose parents belonged to
+Marse Henry Burton, too.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a good marster and mistress. Dey give us a good place to sleep
+and lots to eat. He had a big four-acre garden where he raised lots of
+vegetables fer his slaves. He had plenty meat, molasses and bread. We
+ground our corn and wheat and made our own feed.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster wouldn't let anybody bother his slaves. He wouldn't 'low his
+overseers or de padrollers to whip 'em. He never whipped one.</p>
+
+<p>"We had no school and no church; but was made to go to de white folks
+church and set in de gallery. When Freedom come, de niggers begin to git
+dere own church, and built small brush huts called 'brush harbors'.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn't do work on Saturday afternoons, but went hunting and fishing
+den, while de women folks cleaned up around de place fer Sunday. De
+marster liked to hunt, and he hunted foxes which was plenty around dere
+den. Now dey is all gone.</p>
+
+<p>"We danced and had gigs. Some played de fiddle and some made whistles
+from canes, having different lengths for different notes, and blowed 'em
+like mouth organs."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: C. B. Burton (79), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (9/10/37)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Phoebe Faucette</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Hampton County</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>GEORGE ANN BUTLER</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave 75 Years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>West of the paved highway at Garnett one may reach, after several miles,
+the old Augusta Road that follows along the Savannah River from Augusta
+to a landing point a little south of Garnett. Miles from the busy
+highway, it passes, in quiet majesty, between fields and woods, made
+rich by the river's overflow and heavy dews. Nature has done her best in
+producing beautiful evergreen trees of immense size and much luxuriant
+shrubbery of many kinds. Live oaks, magnolias, yellow slash pines,
+hollies, and many evergreen shrubs keep the woods even in winter, a
+fascinating wilderness to hunters and nature lovers. On this road George
+Ann Butler lives, and has lived for the seventy-five years of her life.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born an' raised on de Greenwood place. It belonged to ole man Joe
+Bostick. He owned all dese places 'long dese here road. He own de
+Bostick place back yonder; den he own de Pipe Creek place next dat; den
+Oaklawn; den joinin' dat was Greenwood. De Colcock's Elmwood was next.
+My Husband was birth right here on de Pipe Creek, an' been here ever
+since. He kin tell you more'n I kin. I was George Anne Curry before I
+marry.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't remember so much 'bout slavery time. I was crawlin' over de
+floor when slavery time&mdash;dey tell me. But atter de war, I 'members.
+Couldn't find no corn seed! Couldn't find no cotton seed! Couldn't find
+no salt! You knows it was hard times when dere wasn't no salt to season
+de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> vegetables. Had to go down to de salt water an' get de water an'
+boil it for salt. Dat been a long way from here. Must be fifty or sixty
+mile! An' dey couldn't go so fast in dem days. Sufferin' been in de
+neighborhood atter de war pass!</p>
+
+<p>"Cotton was de thing 'way back yonder. An' right 'long dis road dey'd
+haul it. Haul it to Cohen's Bluff! Haul it to Matthews Bluff! Haul it to
+Parichucla! Don't haul it dis way no more! Send de cotton to de
+railroad! But in dem days it was de ships dat carried it to Savannah.
+Cotton seem to be play out now&mdash;dey plant so much.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear 'em tell 'bout de war, an' havin' to drill an' step when dey say
+step, an' throw up dey hands, when dey say throw up de hand. Everything
+had to be done jes' so! De war was sure a terrible thing."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: George Anne Butler, R. F. D. Garnett, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Phoebe Faucette</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Hampton County</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>ISAIAH</b> [<b>HW: Solbert (?)</b>] <b>BUTLER, EX-SLAVE 79 YEARS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: See Ms. #3</b>]</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Yes, dis is Isaiah Butler, piece of him. Ain't much left of him now.
+Yes, I knows all 'bout dis heah country from way back. I was born and
+raised right on dis same place here; lived here all my life 'sides from
+travellin' round a little space. Dere was a rice field not far from dis
+house here, where I plowed up more posts that had been used as
+landmarks! Dis place was de Bostick place, and it jined to de Thomson
+place, and de Thomson place to Edmund Martin's place dat was turned over
+to Joe Lawton, his son-in-law. Bill Daniel had charge of de rice field I
+was telling you 'bout. He was overseer, on de Daniel Blake place. Den
+dere was de Maner place, de Trowell, de Kelly, and de Wallace places.
+Back in dem times dey cultivated rice. Had mules to cultivate it! But
+cotton and corn was what dey planted most of all; 4,000 acres I think
+dey tell me was on dis place. I know it supposed to be more than ten
+miles square. Nobody know de landmarks 'cept me. When de Bostick boys
+came back from out west last year, dey had to come to me to find out
+where dere place was. Dey didn't know nuttin' 'bout it. Dey used to use
+twenty plow, and de hoe hands was over a hundred, I know.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member when de Yankees come through. I was no more'n a lad, nine or
+ten years old. Bostick had a big gin-house, barn, stables, and such
+like. And when de soldiers come a goat was up on de platform in front of
+de door to de loft of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> de barn. Dere were some steps leadin' up dere and
+dat goat would walk up dem steps same as any body. De fuss thing de
+Yankees do, dey shoot dat goat. Den day start and tear up eberyt'ing.
+All de white folks had refugeed up North, and dey didn't do nuttin' to
+us niggers.</p>
+
+<p>"Fore dat time I was jes' a little boy too young to do nuttin'. Jes'
+played aroun' in de street. Ole Mr. Ben Bostick used to bring clothes
+an' shoes to us and see dat we was well cared for. Dere was nineteen
+houses in de street for us colored folks. Dey wuz all left by de
+soldiers. But in de year 1882 dere come a cyclone (some folks call it a
+tornado), and knocked down every house; only left four standing. Pieces
+of clothes and t'ings were carried for four or five miles from here. It
+left our house; but it took everyt'ing we had. It took de walls of de
+house, jes' left de floorin', an' it wus turn 'round. Took everyt'ing!
+I'd jes' been married 'bout a year, and you know how dat is. We jes' had
+to scuffle and scuffle 'roun' till de Lord bless us.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere wuz plenty of deer, squirrel, possum, an' rabbits in dem times; no
+more dan dere is now, but dere wuz no hinderance den as now. De deer
+come right up to my door now; dey come all 'roun' dis house, and we
+cain't do nuttin'. De other day one wuz over dere by dat peachtree, an'
+not long ago four of 'em come walkin' right through dis yard. I don't go
+fishin' no more. Folks say de streams is all dried up. But I used to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>
+a good fisherman, me an' me ole woman. She's spryer'n me now. I used to
+allus protect her when we wuz young, an' now its her dat's acarin' for
+me. We had our gardens in de ole days, too. Oh, yes'm. Little patches of
+collards, greens an' t'ings, but now I ain't able to do nuttin', jes'
+hang 'roun' de place here.</p>
+
+<p>"My father used to belong to General Butler, Dennis Butler was his name.
+My mother was a Maner, but originally she wuz draw out of de Robert
+estate. Ole Ben Bostick fuss wife wuz a Robert. Dey wuz sure wealthy
+folks. One of 'em went off to sail. Bill F. Robert wuz his name. He had
+so much money dat he say dat he goin' to de end of de world. He come
+back an' he say he went so close hell de heat draw de pitch from de
+vessel. But he lost his eyesight by it. Wa'n't (it was not) long after
+he got back dat he went stone blind.</p>
+
+<p>"My ole boss, preacher Joe Bostick wuz one of de best of men. He wuz
+hard of hearin' like I is, an' a good ole man. But de ole lady, ole
+"Miss Jenny", she wuz very rough. She hired all de overseers, and she do
+all. If'n anybody try to go to de old man wid anyt'ing, she'd talk to
+'em herself an' not let 'em see de old man.</p>
+
+<p>"In slavery time de slaves wuz waked up every morning by de colored
+over-driver blowin' a horn. Ole man Jake Chisolm wuz his name. Jes' at
+daybreak, he'd put his horn through a crack in de upper part of de wall
+to his house an' blow it through dat crack. Den de under-driver would go
+out an' round 'em up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> When dey done all dey day-work, dey come home an'
+cook dey supper, an' wash up. Den dey blow de horn for 'em to go to bed.
+Sometime dey have to out de fire an' finish dey supper in de dark. De
+under-driver, he'd go out den and see who ain't go to bed. He wouldn't
+say anyt'ing den; but next mornin' he'd report it to de overseer, an'
+dem as hadn't gone to bed would be whipped.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother used to tell me dat if any didn't do dey day's work, dey'd be
+put in de stocks or de bill-bo. You know each wuz given a certain task
+dat had to be finish dat day. Dat what dey call de day-work. When dey
+put 'em in de stocks dey tie 'em hand and foot to a stick. Dey could lie
+down wid dat. I hear of colored folks doin' dat now to dare chillun when
+dey don't do. Now de bill-bo wuz a stabe (stave) drove in de ground, an'
+dey tied dere hands and den dere feet to dat, standin' up. Dey'd work on
+Saturday but dey wuz give Sundays. Rations wuz give out on Mondays.
+Edmund Lawton went over to Louisiana to work on de Catherine Goride
+place, but he come back, 'cause he say dey blow dey horn for work on
+Sunday same as any other day, and he say he wa'n't goin' to work on no
+Sunday. Dey didn't have a jail in dem times. Dey'd whip 'em, and dey'd
+sell 'em. Every slave know what, 'I'll put you in my pocket, sir!' mean.</p>
+
+<p>"De slaves would walk when dey'd go anywhere. If'n dey buy a bunch of
+slaves in New Orleans, dey'd walk by night and day. I 'member when one
+young girl come back from refugin' wid de white folks, her feet were
+jes' ready to buss open, and dat wuz all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> You couldn't travel unless de
+boss give you a pass. De Ku Klan had "patrol" all about in de bushes by
+de side of de road at night. And when dey caught you dey'd whip you
+almost to death! Dey'd horsewhip you. Dey didn't run away nowhere 'cause
+dey knowed dey couldn't.</p>
+
+<p>"If'n you wanted to send any news to anybody on another plantation, de
+overseer'd write de message for you and send it by a boy to de overseer
+of de other plantation, and he'd read it to de one you wrote to.</p>
+
+<p>"When de war wuz over, ole man Jones cone over frum Georgia and sell
+t'ings to de colored folks. He'd sell 'em everyt'ing. He took all de
+colored folks' money!</p>
+
+<p>"I learned to read when I wuz goin' to school when I wuz about fifteen
+years old, but I learned most I know after I wuz married, at night
+school, over on de Morrison place. De colored folks had de school, but
+'course Mr. Morrison was delighted to know dey wuz havin' it. As for
+church, in de olden times, people used to, more or less, attend under de
+bush-arbor. In 1875 when I jined de church, ole man John Butler wuz de
+preacher.</p>
+
+<p>"Ghosts? I'se met plenty of um! When I wuz courtin' I met many a
+one&mdash;One got me in de water, once. And another time when I wuz crossing
+a stream, I wuz on de butt end of de log, an' dey wuz on de blossom end,
+an' we meet jes' as close as I is to you now. I say to him, same as to
+anybody, 'I sure ain't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> goin' to turn back, and fall off dis log. Now de
+best t'ing for you to do is to turn 'round and let me come atter (after)
+you. You jes' got to talk to 'em same as to anybody. It don't pay to be
+'fraid of 'em. So he wheel 'round. (Spirits can wheel, you know.) And
+when he get to de end of de log, I say, 'Now you off and I off. You kin
+go on 'cross now.' Dey sure is a t'ing, all right! Dey look jes' like
+anybody else, 'cept'n it's jes' cloudy and misty like it goin' to pour
+down rain. But it don't do to be 'fraid of 'em. I ain't 'fraid of
+nuttin', myself. I never see 'em no more. Guess I jes' sorta out-growed
+'em. But dere sure is sech a t'ing, all right! De white folks'd see 'em,
+too. I 'member hearin' ole Joe Bostick, de preacher, say to a man, by de
+name of Tinlin, 'Did you hear dat hog barkin' last night? Well, de
+spirit come right in de house. Come right up over de mantlepiece.' I wuz
+in de field workin' same as I allus done, and I hear'd ole Joe horse a
+snortin'. Ole Joe didn't want nuttin'. He jes' want to see what I wuz
+doin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham Lincoln done all he could for de colored folks. But dey cain't
+none of 'em do nuttin' without de Lord."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Isaiah Butler, Garnett, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Phoebe Faucette</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Hampton County</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Approx. 800 Words</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>SOLBERT BUTLER EX-SLAVE OF 82 YEARS</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Miles from the highway old Solbert Butler lives alone under the shadow
+of the handsome winter home of an aged northerner upon the same soil
+that he has seen pass from Southerner to Negro, to Southerner, to
+Northerner. Though shrunken and bent with age he still enjoys talking.</p>
+
+<p>"I lives in de Deer Country. A couple of months ago, I saw eight in a
+drove at one time, like a drove of sheep, or sech like. You can't raise
+nuthin' 'round here. Dey'll eat up your garden. And de wild turkey! And
+de partridge! But you can't shoot 'em without de Cassels give you a
+license to do it. Now he comin' next month and dere'll be more shootin'!
+But he aint able to hunt none hisself. He kin ride 'bout in de woods in
+de car. Dey are blessed people, though!</p>
+
+<p>"Dis used to be de Bostick place. Old Massa Ben Bostick lived fourteen
+miles from here. Dere was Ben Bostick, Iva Bostick, Joe Bostick, Mr.
+Luther, Eddie Bostick, an' Jennie Jo Bostick. De place was divided up
+between 'em. O-oh! I couldn't number de plantations old Mr. Bostick
+owned. I think he owned fifteen plantations! He was de millinery
+(millionaire)! Oh, de Bosticks, O-oh!! De house dey live in, dey call
+um&mdash;what was it dey call um&mdash;de Paradise house. No one go to dat house
+but only de rich.</p>
+
+<p>"At Christmas dey'd go up dere. And oh, I couldn't number it! Oh, it was
+paradise. He was good to 'em. An' he whip 'em good, too! Tie 'em to de
+fence post and whip 'em. But I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> didn't' have anythin' of dat. I was a
+little boy. Jes' 'bout six year old when de war broke out. But I got
+plenty of whippin's all right.</p>
+
+<p>"Massa take me as a little boy as a pet. Took me right in de carriage!
+Had a little bed right by his own an' take care of me. Every morning dey
+bring in dey tray, an' go back. My uncle was a carriage man. Dey kept
+two fine horses jes' for de carriage. Massa'd come up to de Street every
+Monday morning with big trays of rations. He'd feed his colored folk,
+den go on back."</p>
+
+<p>(Another old ex-slave from the same plantation had said that on Mondays
+the week's rations were given out.)</p>
+
+<p>"Dey planted cotton, corn, peas, potatoes, rice&mdash;an' dey'd lick you! All
+de time, dey'd lick you. After dey'd lick 'em until de blood come out,
+den dey'd rub de red pepper and salt on 'em. Oh, my God! Kin you say dem
+as done sech as dat aint gone to deir reward? My uncle was so whip he
+went into de woods, an' live dere for months. Had to learn de
+independent life. Mr. Aldridge was de overseer. Old Mr. Aldridge gone
+now. But dere can't be no rest for him. Oh my God no! He do 'em so mean
+dat finally ole Massa hear 'bout it. And when he do hear 'bout it, he
+discharged him. He had everything discharged&mdash;to de colored driver. Den
+he got Mr. Chisolm. After Mr. Chisolm come in, everythin' jes' as sweet
+an' smooth as could be! Dere's a nice set of people for you&mdash;de
+Chisolms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> Two of 'em livin' now. One at Garnett, an' one at Luray, I
+believe.</p>
+
+<p>"I refugeed wid Massa. Dey come together in Virginia. Dey surrendered in
+Virginia. Set de house afire. And set all dey houses. Dey burned Massa's
+cotton. Over 200 bales! But if'n de colored folks begged for some, dey
+let 'em have some. I stayed right wid Massa. He carried me everywhere he
+went. Carried me all de way to Mill Haven, Georgia.</p>
+
+<p>"After de war de colored folks jes' took an' plant de crop an' make de
+livin' wid de hoe. Didn't have no mule, no ox, or thin' like dat. When
+ole Massa come back, he took de cotton, an' give de colored folks de
+corn. De Yankees kill all de hog. Kill all de cow. Kill all de fowl.
+Left you nothin' to eat. If de colored folk had any chicken, dey jes'
+had to take dat an' try to raise 'em somethin' to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"I'se a Methodist. I was converted under Elder Drayton&mdash;come from
+Georgia at St. Luke Methodist Church on de Blake Plantation. De Blake
+Plantation right dere. It jines dis one. De ole Methodist white folk's
+church where I was baptized been take down. It was called de Union
+Church. But de cemetery still dere. It right up dere not a mile down de
+road. Dere was a good ole preacher name of Rev. Winborn Asa Lawton. An'
+de camp meetin'! Oh, Lord, Lord! Dey had over a thousand dere. Come from
+Orangeburg. Come from Aiken! An' come way from Cheraw! Come from
+Charleston, Beaufort, and Savannah! De colored folks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> got a church now
+up here on what used to be de Pipe Creek place of ole Ben Bostick where
+de white folks used to have a Baptist church. De colored folks church
+call it Kenyon Church. Dat's de church dey white folks moved to
+Lawtonville, den to Estill. But when de colored folks built, dey built
+de church to face de East. Built on de same foundation; but face it
+east, facing a little road dat had sprung up and wind 'round dat way
+right in close to de church. But de white folks church was face west,
+facing de Augusta road. Dat big space twixt de road and de church was a
+grove.</p>
+
+<p>"Ghosts? I used to 'em. I see 'em all de time. Good company! I live over
+dere by myself, an' dey comes in my house all de time. Sometime I walk
+along at night an' I see 'em. An' when you see 'em you see a sight. Dey
+play. Dey dance 'round an' 'round. Dey happy all right. But dey'll devil
+you, too. When dey find out dat you scary, dey'll devil you. Dey don't
+do nothin' to me. Only talk to me. I'll be in my house an' dey'll come
+talk to me. Or I'll be walkin' down de road, an' meet 'em. Dey'll pass
+de time of day wid me, Like:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Hey, Solbert! How far you goin', Solbert?'</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'I'se jes' goin' down de road a little piece,' I'll say.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Uh-huh'.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Or sometime dey'll say, 'Mornin', Solbert. How you feeling?'</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'I'se jes' so so'.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Uh-huh'.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dey all favors. Dey all looks alike. You remembers when dat car come
+down de road jes' now? Well, I see a bunch of 'em right den! Dey get out
+de road for dat car to pass. Oh, you can't see 'em. No matter how much I
+shows 'em to you&mdash;you can't see 'em. But me! Dey swell wid me. I see 'em
+all de time. De big house up dere. It full of 'em. De white folks see
+'em, too. Dat is some of de white folks. I see de other day a white man
+dat has to work up here start toward de house when de ghosts was comin'
+out thick. When I tell him you ought to see him turn an' run. One of 'em
+push me over in de ditch one time. I say,</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Now what you done dat for?'</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Well, dat aint nothin''</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Aint nothin'. But don't you do dat no more.'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"I talks to 'em jes' de same as if dey was somebody. Some folks outgrows
+'em. But not me. You have to be born to see 'em. If'n you be born
+wrapped in de caul, you kin see 'em. But if you aint, you can't see
+'em."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Solbert Butler, 82 years, R. F. D. Scotia, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>District #4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 31, 1937</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born on the other side of Maybinton, in Newberry County, South
+Carolina. Old Squire Kenner was my master and his wife, Lucy, my
+mistress. My pa was Joseph Gilliam, who was a slave of John Gilliam, and
+my mamma was Lou Kenner, who was a slave of Squire Kenner. I stayed with
+my mamma at Squire Kenner's and waited on my mistress, Mrs. Lucy Kenner,
+who was the best white woman I know of&mdash;just like a mother to me, wish I
+was with her now. I stayed there 'till my mistress died, was right by
+her bed.</p>
+
+<p>"It sure was a good place to live. Dey didn't give us money for work but
+we had enough to eat and place to sleep and a few clothes. Squire had a
+big farm he got from the Hancocks, some of his kin. He didn't have
+overseers; he looked after his own farms. Master had a big garden and
+give us lots from it to eat. We hunted 'possums, rabbits, squirrels,
+wild turkeys, on the river. We lived right near Broad River.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember de padderrolers; dey come to my pa's house and want to come
+in, but pa had an old musket gun and tole them if dey come in dey
+wouldn't go out alive&mdash;and dey went away.</p>
+
+<p>"After the day's work was done, the slaves would set down and talk, and
+on Saturday afternoons, they would stay home, go fishing or wash up, and
+sometimes the chaps would go to de river and watch the boats full of
+cotton go by. On<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> Sundays we go to church. They made us go to Baskets
+church, de white folks church, and set in the gallery. On Christmas Day
+we would get time off and master would give us good things to eat. We
+never had any corn-shuckings and cotton pickings there. All of the
+family and the slaves do that work on moon-shiney nights. We had some
+games we played, like Molly Bright, Hiding Switches, Marbles. We played
+on Sunday, too, unless the mistress calls us in and stops us.</p>
+
+<p>"When a slave got sick we sent for the doctor. We never put much store
+in herb root tea and such like.</p>
+
+<p>"The Yankees went through Maybinton but didn't get over as far as us.
+Some say they stole cattle and burned ginhouses.</p>
+
+<p>"Squire Kenner was killed in the war, and when the war was over we
+stayed on with de mistress; she was like a mamma. She had a son who was
+killed in the war, too. Another son lived there and we worked for him
+after Mistress died, but he soon moved far away and sold out his
+plantation. His name was Howsen Kenner.</p>
+
+<p>"I married Walter Cain at Mr. Walter Spearman's house, a good white man,
+and the white folks give us a good supper after the wedding. I had one
+child, 2 grandchildren, and one great-grand-child. I joined the church
+before I married 'cause I wanted to do better, do right and live right,
+and get religion. I think everybody ought to join the church and live
+right. That is the reason the Lord blesses me in lots of ways today. We
+had good time in slavery&mdash;sometimes I wish I was back there&mdash;would have
+somebody to take of you and help you. If my mistress was living I would
+rather be back in slavery."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Granny Cain (90), RFD, Newberry; by G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Sept. 22, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born near the village of Maybinton, and lived on old Squire
+Kenner's plantation. Squire Kenner and his wife, mistress Lucy, was good
+to me. My mistress was so good I wish I was living with her now, I sho
+wouldn't have such a hard time getting something to eat. I am old and
+have rheumatism and can't get about good now.</p>
+
+<p>"I live with some of my grand children, but they can't make so much for
+us. We manage to eat, though. We rent a two-room house about two miles
+from Newberry Courthouse.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know nothing about 40 acres of land for the slaves after the
+war. We just stayed on with the master 'til he died, for wages; then we
+hired out to other people for wages. I don't know nothing 'bout slaves
+voting after the war. There was no slave up-risings then in our section.</p>
+
+<p>"Ever since the war was over, the slaves have worked for wages on
+plantations or moved to town and got little jobs here and there where
+they could. Some of the slaves would rent small farms from land owners
+or work the farms on shares. None of the slaves in our section come from
+Virginia."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: "Granny" Cain (90), Newberry County, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 8/10/37.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 24, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b> <b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born in Union County, S. C., not far from the ferry on Tyger
+River. My mother was a slave of George R. Tucker who lived on the Enoree
+River. I can't remember slavery times nor the war; but I remember about
+the end of the war when everybody was coming home.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother was a weaver, going to the white folks' houses and weaving
+clothes for them for small pay. Carding and spinning was done by all the
+white families at home.</p>
+
+<p>"The farms had large gardens and raised most everything to eat. Large
+patches of turnips, cabbage and green vegetables was the custom at that
+time."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Laura Caldwell (77), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. May 20, 1937</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Dec. 15, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by: Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: (Caldwell)</b>]</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I own a little farm, about 22 acres, and I live on it wid my wife. I
+ain't been married but once, but we had 15 chilluns. Dey is all done
+married and left us. I is gitting so I can't do much work any more,
+'specially plowing. I lives below Prosperity. I was born above dar, near
+Beaver Dam Creek on de old Davenport place.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy was Alfred Caldwell and my mammy was Suella Caldwell. She was
+a Nelson. Dem and me belonged to Marse Gillam Davenport. Marse Gillam
+sho was rapid. I saw him whip my mammy till you couldn't put a hand on
+her shoulder and back widout touching a whelp. Marse Gillam killed a man
+and dey put him in Jail in Newberry, but he died befo' de trial come
+off. Atter dat, I was put in de hands of his son, Sam Davenport. Dis was
+atter freedom come. He was a purty good man, but my mammy was always
+careful. At night she say, 'Come in chilluns, I got to fasten de do'
+tight.' We lived in a little log house den. When we moved from dar we
+went to Dr. Welch's place, jes' dis side of it.</p>
+
+<p>"De niggers never had any churches till atter de war; den dey used brush
+arbors or some old broke-down log house. We never had schools den, not
+till later. I never had a chance to go a-tall.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member de Ku Klux and how dey rid around in white sheets, killing
+all de niggers. De Red Shirts never killed but dey sometimes whipped
+niggers. My daddy voted de Republican ticket den, but I know'd two
+niggers dat was Democrats and rode wid de Red Shirts. Dey was old Zeb
+and old Jeff Bozard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We had a big camp meeting sometimes at a log house dat was called
+'Hannah's Church'. It was named for a nigger man of slavery time. He
+bought de land for de church when freedom come and give it to dem. Dis
+church is on de other side of Bush River, near Mr. Boulware's place.</p>
+
+<p>"In old times we had plenty to eat dat we raised on de farm. We had
+gardens, too. We raised hogs and made our own flour. We never worked on
+Saturday afternoons and Sundays. On Christmas we got together and tried
+to have extra things to eat, and maybe a few drinks.</p>
+
+<p>"In old times we had lots of corn-shuckings and log-rollings. De niggers
+all around would come and help, den we would git a feast of lamb or pig
+that was cooked while we was working.</p>
+
+<p>"Some old folks use to make medicines out of herbs. I 'member my ma
+would take fever grass and boil it to tea and have us drink it to keep
+de fever away. She used branch elder twigs and dogwood berries for
+chills. Another way to stop chills from coming was to dip a string in
+turpentine, keep it tied around de waist and tie a knot in it every time
+you had a chill.</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham Lincoln was a good man. Seems like all de niggers loved him
+lots. I don't know much about Jefferson Davis. Booker Washington was a
+good man. I 'member he was once in Newberry and I heard him preach in de
+old courthouse. (?)</p>
+
+<p>"I joined de church when I was 12 years old. In dem days de old folks
+made chillun go to church when dey was 12 years old, and join den. Dat
+was de reason I joined. I was a Methodist but I joined de Baptist later,
+because, well, I saw dat was de right way."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Solomon Caldwell (73), Newberry, S. C. RFD</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 12/7/37.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b>,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>NELSON CAMERON</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Nelson Cameron and his wife, Mary, together with a widowed daughter,
+Rose, and her six children, live in a four-room frame house, two miles
+south of Woodward, S. C., about sixty yards east of US highway #21. He
+cultivates about eighty acres of land, on shares of the crop, for Mr.
+Brice, the land owner. He is a good, respectable, cheerful old darkey,
+and devoted to his wife and grandchildren.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Wood, Ned Walker, a old Gaillard nigger says as how he was down
+here t'other day sellin' chickens, where he got them chickens I's not
+here for to say, and say you wanna see me. I's here befo' you and pleads
+guilty to de charge dat I'm old, can't work much any longer, and is poor
+and needy.</p>
+
+<p>"You sees dere's a window pane out of my britches seat and drainage
+holes in both my shoes, to let de sweat out when I walks to Bethel
+Church on Sunday. Whut can you and Mr. Roosevelt do for dis old
+Izrallite a passin' thru de wilderness on de way to de Promise Land? Lak
+to have a little manna and quail, befo' I gits to de river Jordan.</p>
+
+<p>"My old marster name Sam Brice. His wife, my mistress, tho' fair as de
+lily of de valley and cheeks as pink as de rose of Sharon, is called
+'Darkie.' Dat always seem a misfit to me. Lily or Rose or Daisy would
+have suited her much more better, wid her laces, frills, flounces, and
+ribbons. Her mighty good to de slaves. Take deir part 'ginst de marster
+sometime, when him want to whup them. Sometime I sit on de door-steps
+and speculate in de moonlight whut de angels am like and everytime, my
+mistress is de picture dat come into dis old gray head of mine. You say
+you don't want po'try,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> you wants facts?</p>
+
+<p>"Well, here de facts: My mammy name Clara. Don't forgit dat. I come back
+to her directly. My young mistress was Miss Maggie. Her marry Marse
+Robert Clowney; they call him 'Red-head Bob.' Him have jet red hair. Him
+was 'lected and went to de Legislature once. No go back; he say dere too
+much ding dong do-nuttin' foolishness down dere for him to leave home
+and stay 'way from de wife and chillun half de winter months.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Sam never have so pow'ful many slaves. Seem lak dere was more
+women and chillun than men. In them days, pa tell me, a white man raise
+niggers just lak a man raise horses or cows. Have a whole lot of mares
+and 'pendin' on other man to have de stallion. Fust thing you know dere
+would be a whole lot of colts kickin' up deir heels on de place. Lakwise
+a white man start out wid a few women folk slaves, soon him have a
+plantation full of little niggers runnin' 'round in deir shirt-tails and
+a kickin' up deir heels, whilst deir mammies was in de field a hoeing
+and geeing at de plow handles, workin' lak a man. You ketch de point?
+Well I's one of them little niggers. My pa name Vander. Him b'long to
+one of de big bugs, old Marse Gregg Cameron. Marse Gregg, him 'low,
+always have more money and niggers than you could shake a stick at, more
+land than you could walk over in a day, and more cuss words than you
+could find in de dictionary. His bark was worser than his bite, tho'. Pa
+was de tan-yard man; he make leather and make de shoes for de
+plantation. After freedom date, de way he make a livin' for mammy and us
+chillun was by makin' boots and shoes and half solin' them for white
+folks at Blackstock, S. C. Marse Sam Brice mighty glad for mammy to
+contact sich a man to be de pappy of her chillun.</p>
+
+<p>"Us live in a log house wid a little porch in front and de mornin' glory
+vines use to climb 'bout it. When they bloom, de bees would come a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>
+hummin' 'round and suck de honey out de blue bells on de vines. I
+'members dat well 'nough, dat was a pleasant memory. Is I told you my
+mammy name Clara? My brothers and sisters, who they? George dead, Calvin
+dead, Hattie (name for pa's young mistress) dead, Samson, who got his
+ear scald off in a pot of hot water, is dead, too. I's existing still. I
+did mighty little work in slavery times. 'Members not much 'bout de
+Yankees.</p>
+
+<p>"Freedom come, pa come straight as a martin to his gourd, to mammy and
+us pickaninnies. They send us to school at Blackstock and us walk
+fourteen miles, and back, every day to school. At school I meets Mary
+Stroud, a gal comin' from de Gaillard quarter. Her eyes was lak twin
+stars. Her hair lak a swarm of bees. All my studyin' books was changed
+to studyin' how to git dat swarm of bees in a hive by myself. One day I
+walk home from school with her and git old Uncle Tom Walker to marry us,
+for de forty cents I saved up. Us happy ever since. Nex' year I work for
+Ben Calvin, a colored man on de Cockerell place, jinin' de Gaillard
+place. Us did dat to be near her pappy, Uncle Morris Stroud.</p>
+
+<p>"All thru them 'Carpet Bag' days my pappy stuck to de white folks, and
+went 'long wid de Ku Kluxes. His young mistress, Miss Harriet Cameron,
+marry de Grand Titan of all de Holy invisible Roman Empire. Him name was
+Col. Leroy McAfee. Pappy tell me all 'bout it. Marse Col. McAfee come
+down from North Ca'lina, and see Marse Feaster Cameron at old Marse
+Gregg Cameron's home and want Marse Feaster to take charge down in dis
+State. While on dat visit him fall in love wid Marse Feas's sister,
+Harriet, and marry her. You say Marse Tom Dixon dedicate a book to her,
+de Clansman? Well, well, well! To think of dat. Wish my pappy could a
+knowed dat, de Sundays he'd take dat long walk to Concord Church to put
+flowers on her grave. They all lie dere in dat graveyard, Old Marse
+Gregg, Marse Leroy, Miss Harriet, and Marse Feas. De day they bury Marse
+Feas de whole county was dere and both men and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> women sob when de red
+earth rumbled on his coffin top. Pappy had me by de hand and cried lak a
+baby, wid de rest of them, dat sad day.</p>
+
+<p>"Does you 'member de time in 1884, when my pappy made you a pair of
+boots for $10.00 and when you pay him, him knock off one dollar and you
+pay him nine dollars? You does? Well dat is fine, for I sure need dat
+dollar dis very day.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I 'member de day old Marse Gregg die? 'Course I does. It happen
+right here in Winnsboro. Him come down to 'tend John Robinson's Circus.
+Him lak Scotch liquor; de tar smell, de taste, and de 'fect, take him
+back to Scotland where him generate from. Them was bar-room days in
+Winnsboro. De two hotels had bar-rooms, besides de other nine in town.
+Marse Gregg had just finished his drink of Scotch. De parade of de
+circus was passing de hotel where he was, and de steam piano come by a
+tootin'. Marse Gregg jump up to go to de street to see it. When it pass,
+him say: 'It's a damn humbug' and drop dead."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1855</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>THOMAS CAMPBELL</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Good mornin' Marster Wood! Marster Donan McCants and Marster Wardlaw
+McCants both been tellin' me dat how you wants to see me but I's been so
+poorly and down at de heels, in my way of feelin', dat I just ain't of a
+mind or disposition to walk up dere to de town clock, where they say you
+want me to come. Take dis bench seat under de honey suckle vine. It
+shade you from de sun. It sho' is hot! I's surprise dat you take de walk
+down here to see a onery old man lak me.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir, I was born, 'cordin' to de writin' in de Book, de 15th day of
+March, 1855, in de Horeb section of Fairfield District, a slave of old
+Marster John Kennedy. How it was, I don't know. Things is a little mixed
+in my mind. Fust thing I 'members, and dreams 'bout sometimes yet, is
+bein' in Charleston, standin' on de battery, seein' a big ocean of
+water, wid ships and their white sails all 'bout, de waves leapin' and
+gleamin' 'bout de flanks of de ships in de bright sunshine, thousands of
+white birds flyin' 'round and sometimes lighting on de water. My mammy,
+her name Chanie, was a holdin' my hand and her other hand was on de
+handle of a baby carriage and in dat carriage was one of de Logan
+chillun. Whether us b'long to de Logans or whether us was just hired out
+to them I's unable to 'member dat. De slaves called him Marster Tom. Us
+come back to Fairfield in my fust childhood, to de Kennedy's.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster John Kennedy raise more niggers than he have use for; sometime
+he sell them, sometime he hire them out. Him sell mammy and me to
+Marster James B. McCants and I been in de McCants family ever since,
+bless God!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Marse James was a great lawyer in his day. I was his house boy and
+office boy. When I get older I take on, besides de blackin' of his boots
+and shoes and sweepin' out de office, de position of carriage driver and
+sweepin' out de church. Marster James was very 'ligious. Who my pa was?
+Dat has never been revealed to me. Thank God! I never had one, if they
+was lak I see nigger chillun have today. My white folks was all de
+parents I had and me wid a skin as black as ink. My belly was always
+full of what they had and I never suffer for clothes on my back or shoes
+on my feets.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I 'members de Yankees? Yes sir, I 'member when they come. It was
+cold weather, February, now dat I think of it. Oh, de sights of them
+days. They camp all 'round up at Mt. Zion College and stable their
+hosses in one of de rooms. They gallop here and yonder and burn de
+'Piscopal Church on Sunday mornin'. A holy war they called it, but they
+and Wheeler's men was a holy terror to dis part of de world, as naked
+and hungry as they left it. I marry Savannah Parnell and of all our
+chillun, dere is just one left, a daughter, Izetta. Her in Tampa,
+Florida.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I 'members anything 'bout de Ku Klux? No sir, nothin'. I was
+always wid de white folks side of politics. They wasn't concerned 'bout
+me. Marster James have no patience for dat kind of business anyhow. Him
+was a lawyer and believed in lettin' de law rule in de daylight and
+would have nothin' to do wid work dat have to have de cover of night and
+darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I 'member 'bout de red shirts? Sure I does. De marster never wore
+one. Him get me a red shirt and I wore it in Hampton days. What I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>
+recollect 'bout them times? If you got time to listen, I 'spect I can
+make anybody laugh 'bout what happen right in dis town in red shirt
+days. You say you glad to listen? Well, here goes. One time in '76. de
+democrats have a big meetin' in de court house in April. Much talk last
+all day. What they say or do up dere nobody know. Paper come out next
+week callin' de radicals to meet in de court house fust Monday in May.
+Marster Glenn McCants, a lawyer, was one of old marster's sons. He tell
+me all 'bout it.</p>
+
+<p>"De day of de radical republican meetin' in de court house, Marster Ed
+Ailen had a drug store, so him and Marster Ozmond Buchanan fix up four
+quart bottles of de finest kind of liquor, wid croton-oil in every
+bottle. Just befo' de meetin' was called to order, Marster Ed pass out
+dat liquor to de ring leader, tellin' him to take it in de court house
+and when they want to 'suade a nigger their way, take him in de side
+jury rooms and 'suade him wid a drink of fine liquor. When de meetin'
+got under way, de chairman 'pointed a doorkeeper to let nobody in and
+nobody out 'til de meetin' was over, widout de chairman say so.</p>
+
+<p>"They say things went along smooth for a while but directly dat
+croton-oil make a demand for 'tention. Dere was a wild rush for de door.
+De doorkeeper say 'Stand back, you have to 'dress de chairman to git
+permission to git out'. Chairman rap his gavel and say, 'What's de
+matter over dere? Take your seats! Parliment law 'quire you to 'dress de
+chair to git permission to leave de hall'. One old nigger, Andy Stewart,
+a ring leader shouted: 'To hell wid Parliment law, I's got to git out of
+here.' Still de doorkeeper stood firm and faithful, as de boy on de
+burnin' deck, as Marster Glenn lak to tell it. One bright mulatto
+nigger, Jim Mobley, got out de tangle by movin' to take a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> recess for
+ten minutes, but befo' de motion could be carried out de croton-oil had
+done its work. Half de convention have to put on clean clothes and de
+court house steps have to be cleaned befo' they could walk up them
+again. You ask any old citizen 'bout it. Him will 'member it. Ask old
+Doctor Buchanan. His brother, de judge, was de one dat help Marster Ed
+Aiken to fix de croton-oil and whiskey.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dat seem to make you laugh and well it might, 'cause dat day been
+now long ago. Sixty-one years you say? How time gits along. Well,
+sixty-one years ago everybody laugh all day in Winnsboro, but Marster Ed
+never crack a smile, when them niggers run to his drug store and ask him
+for somethin' to ease their belly ache."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, October 5, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>SYLVIA CANNON,</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, Age 85</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Yes, mam, I been a little small girl in slavery time. I just can
+remember when I was sold. Me en Becky en George. Just can remember dat,
+but I know who bought me. First belong to de old Bill Greggs en dat whe'
+Miss Earlie Hatchel bought me from. Never did know whe' Becky en George
+went. Yes, mam, de Bill Greggs had a heap of slaves cause dey had my
+grandmammy en my granddaddy en dey had a heap of chillun. My mammy, she
+belong to de Greggs too. She been Mr. Gregg's cook en I de one name
+after her. I remembers she didn' talk much to we chillun. Mostly, she
+did sing bout all de time. Most of de old people sing bout;</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'O Heaven, sweet Heaven,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When shall I see?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If you get dere fore me,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You tell my Lord I on de way.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O shall I get dere?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If you get dere fore I do,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You tell My Lord I on de way.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O Heaven, sweet Heaven,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When shall I see?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O when shall I get dere?'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dat be a old song what my grandmammy used to sing way back dere."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don' know exactly how old I is cause de peoples used to wouldn' tell
+dey chillun how old dey was fore dey was grown. I just ain' able to say
+bout my right age, but I know my sister was older den me en she de one
+keep count us chillun age. She told me I be bout 84 or 85 years old, so
+my sister tell me. She done gone en left me en I try to keep count, but
+I don' know. Dere been bout 14 head of we chillun en dey all gone but
+me. I de last one. I can tell you dis much, I was just a little small
+girl when Miss Earlie Hatchel bought me en she wouldn' let me hold de
+baby cause she was 'fraid I would drop it. I just set dere on de floor
+en set de baby 'tween my legs, but my Lord, Miss Hatchel been so good to
+me dat I stay on dere wid her 8 years after freedom come. Miss Hatchel
+tell me I better stay on dere whe' I can get flour bread to eat. Yes,
+mam, never got a whippin in all my life. Miss Hatchel, she shake me by
+de shoulders once or twice, but never didn' whip me in all my life dat I
+knows of. Dat de reason, when my parents come after me, I hide under de
+bed. My mammy, she went in de name of Hatchel en all her chillun went in
+de name of Hatchel right down dere in de Effingham section."</p>
+
+<p>"No, honey, don' nobody be here wid me. Stays right here by myself. Digs
+in de garden in de day en comes in de house at night. Yes, mam, I
+thought dis house been belong to me, but dey tell me dis here place be
+city property. Rich man up dere<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> in Florence learn bout I was worth over
+$1500.00 en he tell me dat I ought to buy a house dat I was gettin old.
+Say he had a nice place he want to sell me. I been learned dat what
+white folks tell me, I must settle down on it en I give him de money en
+tell him give me de place he say he had to sell me. I been trust white
+folks en he take my money en settle me down here on city property. He
+say, 'Mom Sylvia, you stay here long as you live cause you ain' gwine be
+here much longer.' I promise my God right den not to save no more money,
+child. People back dere didn' spend money like dey do dese days en dat
+how-come I had dat money. Dey would just spend money once a year in dat
+day en time. Yes, mam, I pay dat man over $900.00. Been payin on it long
+time en got it all paid but $187.00 en city find out what dat man had
+done. City tell me just stay on right here, but don' pay no more money
+out. Dey give me dat garden en tell me what I make I can have.
+Courthouse man tell me dat I ought to drop my thanks to de Heavenly
+Father dat I is free. If de town picks up any sick person, dey bring dem
+here en tell me do de best I can for dem. Tell me to keep good order so
+de people won' be shame to come en see bout me. Got two houses dere join
+together. Dere be four rooms in dis front one en three in de other
+house. Woman go up north en leave her things here en tell me if she ain'
+come back, I could have dem en she ain' come back yet. Been gone two
+years."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mam, I been married twice. First husband die en den another sick
+man come along en ax de city for me. I work on him en make teas for him,
+but he die in bout two years. I beg de town to let me go out to de poor
+farm en stay, but dey say I done pay too much to move. Tell me stay on
+here en keep de house up de best way I can.</p>
+
+<p>"No'um, I ain' able to do no kind of work much. No more den choppin my
+garden. Can' hardly see nothin on a sunny day. I raise my own seed all
+right cause sometimes I can' see en find myself is cut up things en dat
+make me has to plant over another time. City tell me do like I was raise
+en so I been choppin here bout 20 years."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, now go way from here. My son born in de year of de earthquake en if
+he had lived, I would been bless wid plenty grandchillun dese days. Yes,
+mam, I remember all bout de shake. Dey tell me one man, Mr. Turner, give
+way his dog two or three days fore de earthquake come en dat dog get
+loose en come back de night of de shake. Come back wid chain tied round
+his neck en Mr. Turner been scared most to death, so dey tell me. He
+say, 'Oh, Mr. Devil, don' put de chain on me, I'll go wid you.' Dat was
+his dog come back en he thought it was de devil come dere to put de
+chain on him. Yes, mam, dere was such a cuttin up every which a way
+cause de people thought it was de Jedgment comin. I went a runnin dere
+to de white folks house en such a prayin en a hollerin, I ain' never see
+de like fore den en ain' see it since den neither. Dere was stirrin
+everywhe' dat night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> en de water in de well was just a slashin. I tried
+to pray like de rest of de people. Some say dey was ready to get on de
+old ship of Zion. I cut loose from de white folks en went in de woods to
+pray en see a big snake en I ain' been back since. I know dat ain' been
+nothin but a omen en I quit off cuttin up. I know it ain' been no need
+in me gwine on like dat cause I ain' never do no harms dat I knows of."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mam, white folks had to whip some of dey niggers in slavery time,
+dey be so mean. Hear tell bout some of dem would run away en go in de
+woods en perish to death dere fore dey would come out en take a whippin.
+Some was mean cause dey tell stories on one another en been swear to it.
+My mammy tell me don' never tell nothin but de truth en I won' get no
+whippin. I been raise up wid de white folks en I tell de truth, I can'
+hardly stand no colored people."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, honey, dere won' no such thing as cotton mill, train, sawmill or
+nothin like dat in my day. People had to set dere at night en pick de
+seed out de cotton wid dey own hands. Didn' hear tell bout no telephone
+nowhe' in dem days en people never live no closer den three en four
+miles apart neither. Got old Massa horn right in dat room dere now dat
+he could talk on to people dat be 16 miles from whe' he was. Come in
+here, child, en I'll let you see it. See, dis old horn been made out of
+silver money. You talks in dat little end en what you say runs out dat
+big end. Man ax me didn' I want to sell it en I tell him I ain' got no
+mind to get rid of it cause it been belong to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> old Massa. Den if I get
+sick, I call on it en somebody come. Wouldn' take nothin for it, honey."</p>
+
+<p>"Times was sho better long time ago den dey be now. I know it. Yes, mam,
+I here frettin myself to death after dem dat gone. Colored people never
+had no debt to pay in slavery time. Never hear tell bout no colored
+people been put in jail fore freedom. Had more to eat en more to wear
+den en had good clothes all de time cause white folks furnish
+everything, everything. Dat is, had plenty to eat such as we had. Had
+plenty peas en rice en hog meat en rabbit en' fish en such as dat.
+Colored people sho fare better in slavery time be dat de white folks had
+to look out for dem. Had dey extra crop what dey had time off to work
+every Saturday. White folks tell dem what dey made, dey could have.
+Peoples would have found we colored people rich wid de money we made on
+de extra crop, if de slaves hadn' never been set free. Us had big rolls
+of money en den when de Yankees come en change de money, dat what made
+us poor. It let de white people down en let us down too. Left us all to
+bout starve to death. Been force to go to de fish pond en de huckleberry
+patch. Land went down to $1.00 a acre. White people let us clear up new
+land en make us own money dat way. We bury it in de ground en dat
+how-come I had money. I dig mine up one day en had over $1500.00 dat I
+been save. Heap of peoples money down dere yet en dey don' know whe' to
+find it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Sylvia Cannon, age 85, ex-slave, Marion St., Florence,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, October, 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, August 4, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>SYLVIA CANNON</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, Age 85.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Florence, S. C.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I lives here by myself cause my husband been dead three years. Moved
+here fore my chillun went to de war. I go to work en buy dis here home
+en get whe' I can' pay tax en people tell me not to move. Say, rent me
+bed en catch me a dollar, if it ain' a sin to rent your bed for a
+dollar. One of de big officers of de town tell me dat last week en he
+die next day. Government take my house en when dey carry sick peoples
+from de jail, dey bring em here fore dey die. It ain' but one night
+journey. Ain' gwine let dem be live enough to run away. Ain' got no kin
+to leave de house to en dey tell me stay on here. Dey say I work so hard
+to get dis house dat dey ain' gwine make me leave here."</p>
+
+<p>(Aunt Sylvia has a sign in her front yard. It seems she took the frame
+of a large picture and inserted a piece of pasteboard into it. She
+explained that this sign is a warning to evil doers not to molest her.
+She says that they must not come past this sign. The words on the sign
+are somewhat illegibly written. The interviewers were able to make out
+these words: "This is a house of the Lord. Don't go pass. This is a
+house of the Lord...." Sign is dated March 1, 1937).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don' know how old I is, but I remembers I was 8 years old when
+freedom come. I born down dere in de Effingham section on Mr. Gregg
+plantation. My half-sister say I must always remember de Christmas day
+cause dat de day I was born. Father en mother belong to de old Bill
+Greggs en dat whe' Miss Earlie Hatchel buy me from. After dat, I didn'
+never live wid my parents any more, but I went back to see dem every two
+weeks. Got a note en go on a Sunday evenin en come back to Miss Hatchel
+on Monday. Miss Hatchel want a nurse en dat how-come she buy me. I
+remembers Miss Hatchel puttin de baby in my lap en tell me don' drop
+him. Didn' have to do no work much in dem days, but dey didn' allow me
+to play none neither. When de baby sleep, I sweep de yard en work de
+garden en pick seed out de cotton to spin. Nursed little while for Miss
+Hatchel en den get free."</p>
+
+<p>"I see em sell plenty colored peoples away in dem days cause dat de way
+white folks made heap of dey money. Coase dey ain' never tell us how
+much dey sell em for. Just stand em up on a block bout three feet high
+en a speculator bid em off just like dey was horses. Dem what was bid
+off didn' never say nothin neither. Don' know who bought my brothers,
+George en Earl. (She cried after this statement). I see em sell some
+slaves twice fore I was sold en I see de slaves when dey be travelin
+like hogs to Darlington. Some of dem be women folks lookin like dey
+gwine to get down dey so heavy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We fare good in dat day en time. Everybody round dere fare good. My
+Massa always was good to his slaves cause all de colored people say he
+was good man to us. Dey never whip me in all my life. Tell me if I don'
+know how to do anything to tell dem en dey show me how. I remembers Miss
+Hatchel caught en shook me one time en when I tell her husband, he tell
+her to keep his hands off his little Nigger. Dey all was good to me.
+When I start home to see my mamma, dey cry after me till I come back.
+Many a time my Missus go work in de field en let me mind de chillun."</p>
+
+<p>"We live in de quarter bout &frac12; mile from de white folks house in a one
+room pole house what was daubed wid dirt. Dere was bout 20 other colored
+people house dere in de quarter dat was close together en far apart too.
+De ground been us floor en us fireplace been down on de ground. Take
+sticks en make chimney cause dere won' no bricks en won' no saw mills to
+make lumber when I come along. Oh, my white folks live in a pole house
+daubed wid dirt too. Us just had some kind of home-made bedstead wid
+pine straw bed what to sleep on in dem days. Sew croaker sack together
+en stuff em wid pine straw. Dat how dey make dey mattress. Didn' get
+much clothes to wear in dat day en time neither. Man never wear no
+breeches in de summer. Go in his shirt tail dat come down to de knees en
+a 'oman been glad enough to get one piece homespun frock what was made
+wid dey hand. Make petticoat out of old dress en patch en patch till<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>
+couldn' tell which place weave. Always put wash out on a Saturday night
+en dry it en put it back on Sunday. Den get oak leaves en make a hat
+what to wear to church. We didn' never have but one pair of shoes a year
+en dey was dese here brogans wid thick soles en brass toes. Had shop
+dere on de plantation whe' white man made all de shoes en plows. Dey
+would save all de cowhide en soak it in salt two or three weeks to get
+de hair off it en dey have big trough hewed out whe' dey clean it after
+dey get de hair off it. After dat, it was turn to de man at de shop."</p>
+
+<p>"I remembers when night come on en we go back to de quarter, we cook
+bread in de ashes en pick seed from de cotton en my mamma set dere en
+sew heap of de time. Den I see em when dey have dem hay pullings. Dey
+tote torch to gather de hay by en after dey pull two or three stacks of
+hay, dey have a big supper en dance in de road en beat sticks en blow
+cane. Had to strike fire on cotton wid two rocks cause dey didn' have no
+match in dem days."</p>
+
+<p>"I tellin you my Missus sho was good to me in dat day en time. She been
+so good to me dat I stay dere wid her 20 year after I got free. Stay
+dere till I marry de old man Isenia Cannon. You see my old Massa got
+killed in de war. She tell me I better stay whe' I can get flour bread
+to eat cause she make her own flour en bake plenty biscuit in de oven.
+Den she kill hogs en a cow every Christmas en give us all de egg-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>nog en
+liquor we want dat day. Dig hole in de ground en roast cow over log
+fire. When I get hard up for meat en couldn' get nothin else, I catch
+rabbits en birds. Make a death trap wid a lid en bait it wid cabbage en
+corn en catch em dat way. Den another time, I dig deep hole in de ground
+en dob it wid clay en fill it up wid water. Rabbits hunt water in de
+night en fall in dere en drown. I used to set traps heap of times to
+keep de rabbits from eatin up de people gardens. Folks eat all kind of
+things durin de war. Eat honeysuckle off de low sweet bush after de
+flower falls off en pine mass dat dey get out de burr en sour weeds.
+Wouldn' nobody eat dem things dese days. Coase dey let de slaves have
+three acres of land to a family to plant for dey garden. Work dem in
+moonlight nights en on a Saturday evenin."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, dey have white overseers den. I hear some people say dey was
+good people. At night de overseer would walk out to see could he catch
+any of us walkin widout a note en to dis day, I don' want to go nowhe'
+widout a paper. It just like dis, de overseer didn' have to be right
+behind you to see dat you work in dem days. Dey have all de fields name
+en de overseer just had to call on de horn en tell you what field to go
+work in dat day. Den he come along on a Saturday evenin to see what you
+done. If you ain' do what he say do, he put de Nigger dog on you en he
+run you all night till he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> find you. No matter whe' you hide, he find
+you en hold you till de overseer get dere. Bite you up if dey get reach
+of you. When de overseer come, he carry you to de stables en whip you.
+Dey dat ain' never got no whipping, you can' do nothin wid dem dese
+days."</p>
+
+<p>"I got Miss Hatchel horn bout here now dat been through nearly 100 head
+of people. If you talk on it, dere de 100 head of automobiles to see
+what it is. I sold old Massa's sword last week for ten cents, but I ain'
+gwine do away wid his old horn. (4 ft. long, 15 in. cross big end 1 in.
+from top end. Mouth piece is gone. Catch about 15 in. from top). Can
+talk to anybody 15 to 16 miles away en dat how-come I don' want to sell
+it cause if anything happen, I can call people to come. Dis horn ain' no
+tin, it silver. It de old time phone. Got old Massa maul too en dis here
+Grandpa oxen bit dat was made at home."</p>
+
+<p>"De white folks didn' never help none of we black people to read en
+write no time. Dey learn de yellow chillun, but if dey catch we black
+chillun wid a book, dey nearly bout kill us. Dey was sho better to dem
+yellow chillun den de black chillun dat be on de plantation. Northern
+women come dere after de war, but dey didn' let em teach nobody nothin."</p>
+
+<p>"I go to church wid my white folks, but dey never have no church like
+dey have dese days. De bush was dey shelter en when it rain, dey meet
+round from one house to another.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> Ride to church in de ox cart cause I
+had to carry de baby everywhe' I go. White folks didn' have no horse
+den. De peoples sho been blessed wid more religion in dem days den dese
+days. Didn' never have to lock up nothin den en if you tell a story, you
+get a whippin. Now de peoples tell me to tell a story. I been cleanin up
+a lady porch en she tell me to tell anybody what come dere dat she ain'
+home. A lady come en ax fer her en I tell her she say anybody come here,
+tell em I ain' home. If you don' believe she here, look in de bedroom.
+Miss Willcox come out dere en beat me in de back. I tell her don' read
+de Bible en tell me to tell a story. I ain' gwine tell no story cause my
+white folks learnt me not to do dat. I knows people was better in dem
+times den dey is now. Dey teach you how you ought to treat your neighbor
+en never hear no bad stories nowhe'. Massa en Missus taught me to say a
+prayer dat go like dis:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"De angels in Heaven love us,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bless mamma en bless papa,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bless our Missus,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bless de man dat feedin us,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For Christ sake."</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"De peoples use herb medicines for dey cures in dem days dat dey get out
+de woods. I make a herb medicine dat good for anything out de roots of
+three herbs mix together. Couldn'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> tell you how I make it cause dat
+would ruin me. Town people try to buy de remedy from me, but Dr. McLeod
+tell me not to sell it. Dey offer me $1500.00 for it, but I never take
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"You want my mind, my heart, de truth en I gwine tell you it just like I
+see it. Since de colored peoples got de law, dey get in all kind of
+devilment. Dat how-come if I had to go back, I would go back to slavery
+en stay wid my white folks."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Sylvia Cannon, ex-slave, age 85, Florence. S. C.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Personal interview by H. Grady Davis and Mrs.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lucile Young, and written up in question and</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">answer form. Rewritten in story form by Annie Ruth</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Davis.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>FUNERAL SONG</b></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Star in de east en star in de west,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I wish de star was in my breast.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother is home, sweet home,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother is home, sweet home,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Want to join de angel here.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What a blessed home, sweet home,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What a blessed home, sweet home,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Want to join de angel here.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>(You can sing bout father, brother, sister en all.)</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sylvia Cannon,</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ex-Slave, age 85,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">May 21, 1937,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Florence, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>FUNERAL SONG</b></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come ye dat love de Lord,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En let your joys be known.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hark from de tomb,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En hear my tender voice.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By de grace of God I'll meet you</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On Canaan Happy Shore.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, mother, where will I meet you on Canaan Happy Shore?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En by de grace of God I'll meet you on Canaan Happy Shore.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>(Shaking hands, marching around grave. White en Colored marched from
+church to graveyard. Old people in de ox cart en young people walking.
+Didn' have coffins like dey do now. Build de coffin en black it wid
+smut. Blacksmith make de nails. Could see in de box.)</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sylvia Cannon,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ex-Slave, age 85,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">May 21, 1937,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Florence, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project No. 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Mrs. Genevieve Chandler</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Murrells Inlet, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, March 25, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Typed by M. C., N. Y. A.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: Georgetown Co.</b>]</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: HEAVEN'S GATE CHURCH</b>]</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>(Verbatim conversation by Uncle Albert Carolina.):</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>When asked about the founding of Heaven's Gate colored Methodist
+church Rev. Albert Carolina answered:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"In the beginning of Freedom they separate us from whites.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">'Sixty one the war begun;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sixty four the war was o'er."</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Rev. Zacharias Duncan wuz the man. He the one built Heaven Gate church.
+Brother Henry Smith and Brother David Kidd and old man Jackson Heywood
+wuz the old ones built it. Some more been there. Can't think of them.
+Old man Jim Beaty wuz one. Can't remember no more. He wuz Allston man.
+(That means he was a slave owned by the Allstons) Uncle Dave Kidd, he
+owned a tract of land in the Savannah.</p>
+
+<p>"Brought us up in Sabbus (Sabbath) school. Sunrise prayer-meeting. Ten
+o'clock Sunday school. Leven o'clock the service. Three o'clock service
+again. Eight at night&mdash;service again. Raise us taughen (taught) in the
+church. Steal off Slavery time in they own house and have class meeting.
+Driver come find'em, whip'em. Th' patrolls come riding down th' road.
+Four plait whip. Two big black dog. White pat-roller. Ketch without
+pass, they whip me. Crawling. (I was crawling). But I walk then and walk
+every since! Bo-cart. Dat's what they call it&mdash;'Bo-cart'. (Crude home
+made baby walker.) Bout seventy seven years since I start. Remember
+nother thing going on in them time. Mausser gin (give) the women a task.
+Didn't done it. Next day didn't done it. Saturday come, task time out!
+Driver! I tell yuh th' truth, you could hear those people, 'Murder!
+Murder!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Judge Kershaw was a fine man. His boy William&mdash;I and William born the
+same day.</p>
+
+<p>"We never has met th' bed yet, without family prayer&mdash;and never get up
+without it. Didn't low them with a book in they hand. The Driver learn
+you at night if he like you. Try to out-wage (educate) you at night.
+Didn't have any school.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother's father Indian. Brighter than, who? Who round here bright as my
+Grand-father? Hannah! Hair was long. Wouldn't stay home. Lives in th'
+swamp. Wouldn't stay out. Grandmother wuz African. She had a little bowl
+make out of clay."</p>
+
+<p>
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Uncle Albert Carolina, age 87 (colored)</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Murrells Inlet, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">March 8th, 1937.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>(A description followed of how his grand-parents built a kiln of clay
+pots and baked them.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Phoebe Faucette</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Hampton County</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>SILVIA CHISOLM</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave 88 Years Old</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Aunt Silvie", sitting out in the sunshine in the yard of a small negro
+cabin, on a warm day in January, seemed very old and feeble. Her answers
+to questions were rather short and she appeared to be preoccupied.</p>
+
+<p>"I been fifteen year old when de Yankee come&mdash;fifteen de sixth of June.
+I saw 'em burn down me Massa's home, an' everythin'. I 'members dat. Ole
+man Joe Bostick was me Massa. An' I knows de Missus an' de Massa used to
+work us. Had de overseer to drive us! Work us till de Yankees come! When
+Yankee come dey had to run! Dat how de buildin' burn! Atter dey didn't
+find no one in it, dey burn! De Marshall house had a poor white woman in
+it! Dat why it didn't burn! My Massa's Pineland place at Garnett was
+burn, too. Dey never did build dis un (one) back. Atter dey come back,
+dey build deir house at de Pineland place.</p>
+
+<p>"I wus mindin' de overseer's chillun. Mr. Beestinger was his name! An'
+his wife, Miss Carrie! I been eight year old when dey took me. Took me
+from me mother an' father here on de Pipe Creek place down to Black
+Swamp. Went down forty-two mile to de overseer! I never see my mother or
+my father anymore. Not 'til atter freedom! An' when I come back den I
+been married. But when I move back here, I stay right on dis Pipe Creek
+place from den on. I been right here all de time.</p>
+
+<p>"Atter I work for Mr. Beestinger, I wait on Mr. Blunt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> You know Mr.
+Blunt, ain't you? His place out dere now.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Bostick was a good ole man. He been deaf. His chillun tend to his
+business&mdash;his sons. He was a preacher. His father was ole man Ben
+Bostick. De Pipe Creek Church was ole Missus Bostick's Mammy's church.
+When de big church burn down by de Yankees, dey give de place to de
+colored folks. Stephen Drayton was de first pastor de colored folks had.
+Dey named de church, Canaan Baptist Church. Start from a bush arbor. De
+white folks church was paint white, inside an' out. It was ceiled
+inside. Dis church didn't have no gallery for de colored folks. Didn't
+make no graveyard at Pipe Creek! Bury at Black Swamp! An' at
+Lawtonville! De people leave dat church an' go to Lawtonville to
+worship. Dey been worshipping at Lawtonville ever since before I could
+wake up to know. De Pipe Creek Church jes' stood dere, wid no service in
+it, 'til de Yankee burn it. De church at Lawtonville been a fine church.
+Didn't burn it! Use it for a hospital durin' de war!</p>
+
+<p>"I'se 88 year old now an' can't remember so much. An' I'se blind! Blind
+in both eye!"</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Silvia Chisolm, R. F. D. Estill, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Stiles M. Scruggs</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Columbia, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>AN EX-SLAVE WHO CLIMBED UP</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>WITH WHITE FOLKS.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Tom Chisolm, a sixty-two year old bricklayer, 11 Railroad Street,
+Columbia, S. C., is a son of Caesar Chisolm, who represented Colleton
+County in the South Carolina House of Representatives for ten years.
+Caesar was one of the few leading Negroes, who voted and spoke for the
+Democratic Party and was friendly to the leaders of white supremacy
+until he died in 1897. Tom relates the following story:</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy was born in slavery and he was always treated good by his
+master, de late Jimeson Chisolm, of Colleton County. He could read and
+figure up 'most anything, when he was set free, and he had notions of
+his own, too. For instance, he marry my mammy. She die soon after I was
+born, and daddy say to me: 'Son, your mammy is gone, but you need not
+fear dat any other woman will ever boss you. I's through with wives.'
+And he never marry again.</p>
+
+<p>"I come to Columbia with him, when he serve in de Legislature. When he
+tell de niggers and white folks, back in Colleton, dat he was not aimin'
+to run for de Legislature no more, they was sad. One time I go with him
+to Smoak's, where Congressman George D. Tillman was to speak on one of
+his campaigns. I felt pretty big, when Congressman Tillman smile and
+grasp de hand of my daddy and say: 'You's goin' to say a few words for
+me befo' I starts, eh, Chisolm?' 'I sho' will, if you laks,' say my
+daddy. Soon he mount de platform, and befo' he say a word, both de white
+and de niggers clap deir hands and stamp deir feets and smile. My daddy
+bow, smile, and say: 'Ladies and gentlemen: We, us, and company sent
+George Tillman to Congress long ago and knows what he has done. Now we's
+gwine to send him back, and I is a little in doubt as to whether he is
+gwine to take us to Washington, or bring Washington down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> here!' He say,
+he jus' git started. But de crowd was laughin', dancin', and huggin' de
+Congressman, and daddy laugh and set down.</p>
+
+<p>"He introduce Master Duncan Clinch Heyward at Walterboro in 1902, when
+Master Heyward was making his first race for governor. He raise such
+laughter and pay so many witty compliments to Master Heyward, dat
+Governor Heyward, when he was 'lected, appoint my daddy to an office in
+Columbia, and we come to Columbia to live in 1903. My daddy retire at de
+same time dat Governor Heyward quit office, in 1907. He later wrote
+insurance on de lives of niggers, and he prosper.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout 1885, my daddy happen to be walkin' near de corner of Gervais and
+Pulaski streets, and two niggers meet dere at de time and begin to
+quarrel. My daddy stop and watch them awhile. One of them niggers kill
+de other, and some time afterward a nigger lawyer come to see my daddy
+and ask him: 'Wasn't you dere?' 'I sho' was,' say my daddy. De nigger
+lawyer laugh and slap daddy on de back and say: 'Come on.' Daddy come
+back in a few hours pretty tipsy. 'Dat lawyer spend a lot on me,' say
+daddy, 'but de fool never let me tell him jus' what I knows.'</p>
+
+<p>"A day or two afterward he was in de witness box. De nigger lawyer say:
+'Now, Mister Chisolm, tell your tale in your own way.' Daddy say: 'I saw
+de defendant and de man, now dead, as they meet. They glare at each
+other and begin to talk harsh and cuss each other. Then, one strike at
+de other and they back 'way and begin to reach in deir hind pockets.'
+Daddy stop, and de nigger lawyer fairly scream: 'Yes, yes, go on!' 'That
+all I saw,' say my daddy, 'cause I run to cover. I made it to de next
+corner in nothin' flat and pick up speed afterward. So I was two blocks
+'way, when I hear de shootin'!' De nigger lawyer nearly faint. He say:
+'Who bought you off?' Daddy say he would have told him at de start, if
+he'd had de chance.</p>
+
+<p>"At another time, we was down on de 700 block of Wayne Street, at a
+nigger gatherin'. We often spend days down dere collectin' weekly
+insurance dues, and we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> knowed most of de people. Dere happen to be a
+young nigger dere, back from de West for a visit, and he was a great
+bragger. He was tellin' 'bout corn in Texas. 'Dere,' he said, 'corn grow
+twenty feet high, with stalks as big as the arm of John L. Sullivan,
+when he whupped Kilrain, and half a dozen big ears on each stalk.' De
+crowd was thunderstruck.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy cleared his throat and say: 'Dat am nothin' in de way of corn.
+One day I was walkin' past a forty-acre patch of corn, on de Governor
+Heyward plantation by de Combahee River and de corn was so high and
+thick, I decide to ramble through it. 'Bout halfway over, I hears a
+commotion. I walks on and peeps. Dere stands a four-ox wagon backed up
+to de edge of de field, and two niggers was sawin' down a stalk. Finally
+they drag it on de wagon and drive off. I seen one of them, in a day or
+two, and asks 'bout it. He say: 'We shelled 366 bushels of corn from dat
+one ear, and then we saw 800 feet of lumber from de cob.'</p>
+
+<p>"Dat young man soon slip out from de crowd and has never been seen here
+since. I thinks daddy was outdone with me, 'cause I was not quickwitted
+and smart, lak him. He tell me once: 'You must learn two good trades,
+and I think carpenterin' and brick-layin' safest.' I done that, and I
+has never been sorry, 'cause I's made a good livin'. Governor Heyward
+was always a good friend of daddy, and he was proud to see us makin'
+good in de insurance business."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 24, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born near old Bush River Baptist Church, in Newberry County, S.
+C. I was the slave of John Satterwhite. My mother lived with them. I was
+a small girl when the war was on. My brother went to war with Marse
+Satterwhite. When de Ku Klux and paddrollers traveled around in that
+section, they made Mr. Satterwhite hold the niggers when they was
+whipped, but he most all the time let them loose, exclaiming, 'they got
+loose'&mdash;he did not want many of them whipped.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother had a kitchen way off from the house, wid a wide fireplace
+where she cooked victuals. There was holes in back of de chimney with
+iron rods sticking out of them to hold de pans, pots, kettles or
+boilers.</p>
+
+<p>"People there did not believe much in ghosts. They were not much
+superstitious, but one time some of the negroes thought they heard the
+benches in Bush River Baptist Church turn over when nobody was in the
+church.</p>
+
+<p>"Negroes most always shouted at their religious meetings. Before de
+negroes had their own church meetings, the slaves went to the white
+folks' Bush River Baptist church and set up in the gallery. I moved to
+Newberry when I was young, after I got married."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Maria Cleland, Newberry, S. C. (80 years old).</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (5/17/37)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>PETER CLIFTON</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE, 89 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"You want me to start wid my fust memory and touch de high spots 'til
+dis very day? Dat'll take a long time but I glad to find someone to tell
+dat to; I is! I 'members when I was a boy, drivin' de calves to de
+pasture, a highland moccasin snake rise up in de path. I see dat forked
+tongue and them bright eyes right now. I so scared I couldn't move out
+my tracks. De mercy of de Lord cover me wid His wings. Dat snake uncoil,
+drop his head, and silently crawl away. Dat was on de Biggers Mobley
+place 'tween Kershaw and Camden, where I was born, in 1848.</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy name Ned; my mammy name Jane. My brudders and sisters was Tom,
+Lizzie, Mary, and Gill. Us live in a log house wid a plank floor and a
+wooden chimney, dat was always ketchin' afire and de wind comin' through
+and fillin' de room wid smoke and cinders. It was just one of many
+others, just lak it, dat made up de quarters. Us had peg beds for de old
+folks and just pallets on de floor for de chillun. Mattresses was made
+of wheat straw but de pillows on de bed was cotton. I does 'member dat
+mammy had a chicken feather pillow she made from de feathers she saved
+at de kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandpappy name Warren and grandmammy name Maria. De rule on de
+place was: 'Wake up de slaves at daylight, begin work when they can see,
+and quit work when they can't see'. But they was careful of de rule dat
+say: 'You mustn't work a child, under twelve years old, in de field'.</p>
+
+<p>"My master's fust wife, I heard him say, was Mistress Gilmore. Dere was
+two chillun by her. Master Ed, dat live in a palace dat last time I
+visit Rock Hill and go to 'member myself to him; then dere was Miss Mary
+dat marry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> her cousin, Dr. Jim Mobley. They had one child, Captain Fred,
+dat took de Catawba rifles to Cuba and whip Spain for blowin' up de
+Maine. You say you rather I talk 'bout old master and de high spots?
+Well, Master Biggers had a big plantation and a big mansion four miles
+southeast of Chester. He buy my mammy and her chillun in front of de
+court house door in Chester, at de sale of de Clifton Estate. Then he
+turn 'round and buy my pappy dere, 'cause my mammy and sister Lizzie was
+cryin' 'bout him have to leave them. Mind you I wasn't born then.
+Marster Biggers was a widower then and went down and courted de widow
+Gibson, who had a plantation and fifty slaves 'tween Kershaw and Camden.
+Dere is where I was born.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster had one child, a boy, by my mistress, Miss Sallie. They call
+him Black George. Him live long enough to marry a angel, Miss Kate
+McCrorey. They had four chillun. Dere got to be ninety slaves on de
+place befo' war come on. One time I go wid pappy to de Chester place.
+Seem lak more slaves dere than on de Gibson place. Us was fed up to de
+neck all de time, though us never had a change of clothes. Us smell
+pretty rancid maybe, in de winter time, but in de summer us no wear very
+much. Girls had a slip on and de boys happy in their shirt tails.</p>
+
+<p>"Kept fox hounds on both places. Old Butler was de squirrel and 'possum
+dog. What I like best to eat? Marster, dere is nothin' better than
+'possum and yallow sweet 'taters. Right now, I wouldn't turn dat down
+for pound cake and Delaware grape wine, lak my mistress use to eat and
+sip while she watch my mammy and old Aunt Tilda run de spinnin' wheels.</p>
+
+<p>"De overseer on de place was name Mr. Mike Melton. No sir, he poor man
+but him come from good folks, not poor white trash. But they was cussed
+by marster, when after de war they took up wid de 'publican party. Sad
+day for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> old marster when him didn't hold his mouth, but I'll get to dat
+later.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster Biggers believe in whippin' and workin' his slaves long and
+hard; then a man was scared all de time of being sold away from his wife
+and chillun. His bark was worse then his bite tho', for I never knowed
+him to do a wicked thing lak dat.</p>
+
+<p>"How long was they whipped? Well, they put de foots in a stock and clamp
+them together, then they have a cross-piece go right across de breast
+high as de shoulder. Dat cross-piece long enough to bind de hands of a
+slave to it at each end. They always strip them naked and some time they
+lay on de lashes wid a whip, a switch or a strap. Does I believe dat was
+a great sin? No sir. Our race was just lak school chillun is now. De
+marster had to put de fear of God in them sometime, somehow, and de
+Bible don't object to it.</p>
+
+<p>"I see marster buy a many a slave. I never saw him sell but one and he
+sold dat one to a drover for $450.00, cash down on de table, and he did
+dat at de request of de overseer and de mistress. They was uneasy 'bout
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"They give us Christmas Day. Every woman got a handkerchief to tie up
+her hair. Every girl got a ribbon, every boy a barlow knife, and every
+man a shin plaster. De neighbors call de place, de shin plaster, Barlow,
+Bandanna place. Us always have a dance in de Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>"After freedom when us was told us had to have names, pappy say he love
+his old Marster Ben Clifton de best and him took dat titlement, and I's
+been a Clifton ever since.</p>
+
+<p>"Go way, white folks! What everthing mate for? De birds, de corn tassle
+and de silk, man and woman, white folks and colored folks mates. You ask
+me what for I seek out Christina for to marry. Dere was sumpin' 'bout
+dat gal, dat day I meets her, though her hair had 'bout a pound of
+cotton thread in it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> dat just 'tracted me to her lak a fly will sail
+'round and light on a 'lasses pitcher. I kept de Ashford Ferry road hot
+'til I got her. I had to ask her old folks for her befo' she consent.
+Dis took 'bout six months. Everything had to be regular. At last I got
+de preacher, Rev. Ray Shelby to go down dere and marry us. Her have been
+a blessin' to me every day since.</p>
+
+<p>"Us have seven chillun. They's scattered east, west, north, and south.
+De only one left is just David, our baby, and him is a baby six foot
+high and fifty-one years old.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir, us had a bold, drivin', pushin', marster but not a
+hard-hearted one. I sorry when military come and arrest him. It was dis
+a way, him try to carry on wid free labor, 'bout lak him did in slavery.
+Chester was in military district no. 2. De whole state was under dat
+military government. Old marster went to de field and cuss a nigger
+woman for de way she was workin', choppin' cotton. She turnt on him wid
+de hoe and gashed him 'bout de head wid it. Him pull out his pistol and
+shot her. Dr. Babcock say de wound in de woman not serious. They swore
+out a warrant for Marster Biggers, arrest him wid a squad, and take him
+to Charleston, where him had nigger jailors, and was kicked and cuffed
+'bout lak a dog. They say de only thing he had to eat was corn-meal-mush
+brought 'round to him and other nice white folks in a tub and it was
+ladeled out to them thru de iron railin' into de palms of dere hands.
+Mistress stuck by him, went and stayed down dere. The filthy prison and
+hard treatments broke him down, and when he did get out and come home,
+him passed over de river of Jordan, where I hopes and prays his soul
+finds rest. Mistress say one time they threatened her down dere, dat if
+she didn't get up $10,000 they would send him where she would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> never see
+him again.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I must be goin'. Some day when de crops is laid by and us get de
+boll weevil whipped off de field, I'll get David to bring me and dat
+gal, Christina, you so curious 'bout, to Winnsboro to see you. Oh, how
+her gonna laugh and shake her sides when I get home and tell her all
+'bout what's down on dat paper! You say it's to be sent to Washington?
+Why, de President and his wife will be tickled at some of them things.
+I's sure they will. Dat'll make Christina have a great excitement when I
+tell her we is to be talked 'bout way up dere. I 'spect it will keep her
+wake and she'll be hunchin' me and asking me all thru de night, what I
+give in.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, I's thankful for dis hour in which I's been brought very near
+to de days of de long long ago. Maybe I'll get a pension and maybe I
+won't. Just so de Lord and de President take notice of us, is enough for
+me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>From Field Notes.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>April 29, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (Negro)</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I wuz born in Fairfield, dat is over yonder across Broad River, you
+knos what dat is, don't you? Yes sir, it wuz on Marse Johnson D.
+Coleman's plantation. And he had a plantation! Dese niggers here in
+Carlisle&mdash;and niggers is all dey is too&mdash;dey don't know what no
+plantation is. When I got big enough fer to step around, from de very
+fus, my maw took me in de big house. It still dat, cep it done bout fell
+down now, to what it wuz then. But some of Marse's folks, dey libs down
+dar still. Den you see, dey is like dese white folks up 'round here now.
+Dey ain't got no big money like dey had when I wuz a runnin' up. Time I
+got big enough fer to run aroun' in my shirt tail, my maw, she lowed one
+night to my paw, when he wuz settin by de fire, dat black little nigger
+over dar, he got to git hissef some pants kaise I'se gwine to put him up
+over de white fokes table. In dem times de doos and winders, dey nebber
+had no screen wire up to dem like dey is now. Fokes didn't know nothin
+bout no such as dat den. My Marster and all de other big white fokes,
+dey raised pea fowls. Is yu ebber seed any? Well, ev'y spring us little
+niggers, we coch dem wild things at night. Dey could fly like a buzzard.
+Dey roosted up in de pine trees, right up in de tip top. So de Missus,
+she hab us young uns clam up dar and git 'em when dey first took roost.
+Us would clam down and my maw, she would pull de long feathers out'n de
+tails. Fer weeks de cocks, dey wouldn't let nobody see 'em if dey could
+help it. Dem birds is sho proud. When dey is got de feathers, dey jus
+struts on de fences, and de fences wuz rail in dem days. If'n dey could
+see dereself in a puddle o'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> water after a rain, dey would stay dar all
+day a struttin' and carring on like nobody's business. Yes sir, dem wuz
+purty birds. After us got de feathers, de Missus, she'ud low dat all de
+nigger gals gwine to come down in de wash house and make fly brushes.
+Sometime de Missus 'ud gib some of de gals some short feathers to put in
+dere Sunday hats. When dem gals got dem hats on, I used to git so
+disgusted wid 'em I'd leave 'em at church and walk home by my sef.
+Anyway, by dat time all de new fly brushes wuz made and de Missus, she
+hab fans make from de short feathers for de white fokes to fan de air
+wid on hot days. Lawdy, I'se strayed fur from what I had started out fer
+to tell you. But I knowed dat you young fokes didn't know nothin' bout
+all dat. In dem days de dining room wuz big and had de windows open all
+de summer long, and all de doos stayed streched too. Quick as de mess of
+victuals began to come on de table, a little nigger boy was put up in de
+swing, I calls it, over de table to fan de flies and gnats off'en de
+Missus' victuals. Dis swing wuz just off'n de end of de long table. Some
+of de white fokes had steps a leadin' up to it. Some of 'em jus had de
+little boys maws to fech de young'uns up dar till dey got fru; den dey
+wuz fetched down again.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, when I got my pants, my maw fetched me in and I clumb up de steps
+dat Marse Johnson had, to git up in his swing wid. At fus, dey had to
+show me jus how to hole de brush, kaise dem peacock feathers wuz so
+long, iffen you didn't mind your bizness, de ends of dem feathers would
+splash in de gravy er sumpin nother, and den de Missus table be all
+spattered up. Some o' de Marsters would whorp de nigger chilluns fer dat
+carelessness, but Marse Johnson, he always good to his niggers. Mos de
+white fokes good to de niggers round bout whar I comes from.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It twad'nt long for I got used to it and I nebber did splash de
+feathers in no rations. But iffen I got used to it, I took to agoin to
+sleep up thar. Marse Johnson, he would jus git up and wake me up. All de
+white fokes at de table joke me so bout bein' so lazy, I soon stop dat
+foolishness. My maw, she roll her eyes at me when I come down atter de
+marster had to wake me up. Dat change like ever thing else. When I got
+bigger, I got to be house boy. Dey took down de swing and got a little
+gal to stand jus 'hind de Missus' chair and fan dem flies. De Missus low
+to Marse Johnson dat de style done change when he want to know how come
+she took de swing down. So dat is de way it is now wid de wimmen, dey
+changes de whole house wid de style; but I tells my chilluns, ain't no
+days like de ole days when I wuz a shaver.</p>
+
+<p>"Atter de war, I come up to Shelton and got to de 'P' Hamilton place. I
+wuz grown den. I seed a young girl dar what dey called 'Evvie'. Her paw,
+he had b'longed to de Chicks, so dats who she wuz, Evvie Chick. Dar she
+sets in dat room by de fire. Now us got 'leven chilluns. Dey is
+scattered all about. Dey is good to us in our ole age. Us riz 'em to
+obey de Lawd and mine us. Dats all dey knows, and iffen fokes would do
+dat now, dey wouldn't have no sassy chilluns like I sees here in
+Carlisle.</p>
+
+<p>"Evvie, what year wuz it we got married? Yes, dat's right. It wuz de
+year of de 'shake'. Is you heerd bout de 'shake'? Come out here Evvie
+and les tell him dat, kaise dese young fokes doan know nothin'. It wuz
+dark, and we wuz eatin' supper, when sumpin started to makin' de dishes
+fall out'n de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz somebody a jumpin' up
+and down on de flo.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> Den we knowed dat it wuz sumpin else er makin' dem
+dishes fall out o' de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz Judgment day,
+kaise ev'ry thing started fallin' worser and worser. De dishes fell so
+fast you couldn't pick'em up. Some of us went down to de spring. De
+white fokes, dey come along wid us and dey make us fetch things from de
+big house, like fine china dat de Missus didn't want to git broke up.
+She tole us dat it wuz er earthquake and it wasn't no day o' Judgment.
+Anyway, we lowed de white fokes might be wrong, so us niggers started to
+a prayin', and den all de niggers on de plantation dat heerd us, well de
+come along and jined wid us in de prayin' and singin'. Us wuz all a
+shakin' mos as bad as de earth wuz, kaise dat wuz a awful time dat we
+libbed through fer bout twenty minutes&mdash;de white fokes lowed it lasted
+only ten, but I ain't sho about dat. When we got back to de big house,
+de cupboard in de kitchen had done fell plum' down. In de nigger houses,
+de chimneys mos all fell in, and de chicken houses ev'rywhar wuz shuck
+down. While we wuz a lookin' aroun, and de wimmen fokes, dey wuz a
+takin' on mightily another shake come up. Us all took fer de spring
+agin; dis one lasted bout long as de first one. Us prayed and sung and
+shouted dis time. It sho stopped de earth a shakin' and a quiverin'
+some, kaise dat thing went on fer a whole week; ceptin de furs two wuz
+de heaviest. All de other ones wuz lighter. Iffen it hadn't been fur us
+all a beggin' de Lawd fer to sho us his mercy, it ain't no tellin' how
+bad dem shakes would er been. Miss Becky Levister, you know her, she
+live up yander in your uncle John's house now, she wuz wid us. She wuz
+jus a little girl den. Her paw wuz Mr. Kelly. He died for ever you wuz
+born. Not long ago I seed her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> She lowed to me, 'uncle Henry, do you
+recollect in de time o' de shake? Lacken she think I'd fergit such as
+dat. It wuz in de time o' de worsest things dis ole nigger is ebber seed
+hisself, and I is gwine on 82 now. Miss Becky, she wuz a settin' in her
+car wid some one drivin' her, but she ain't fergot dis ole nigger. If I
+is up town and Miss Becky, she ride by, she look out and lows' 'Howdy
+uncle Henry', and I allus looks up and raises my hat. I likes mannerable
+white fokes, mysef, and den, I likes mannerable niggers fer as dat goes.
+Some of dese fokes, now both white&mdash;I hates to say it&mdash;and niggers, dey
+trys to act like dey ain't got no sense er sumpin'. But you know one
+thing I knos real fokes when I sees dem and dey can't fool me."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Evvie tells the following story about her father, Rufus Chick. The
+story is known by all of the reliable white folks of the surrounding
+neighborhood also: "My paw, Rufus Chick, lived on the Union side of
+Broad River, the latter days of his life. Maj. James B. Steadman had
+goats over on Henderson Island that my paw used to care for. He went
+over to the Island in a batteau. One afternoon, he and four other
+darkies were going over there when the batteau turned over. The four
+other men caught to a willow bush and were rescued. My paw could not
+swim, and he got drowned. For three weeks they searched for his body,
+but they never did find it. Some years after, a body of a darky was
+found at the mouth of the canal, down near Columbia. The body was
+perfectly petrified. This was my paw's body. The canal authorities sent
+the body to a museum in Detroit. It was January 11, 1877 when my father
+got drowned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When I wuz a young fellow I used to race wid de horses. I wuz de swifes
+runner on de plantation. A nigger, Peter Feaster, had a white horse of
+his own, and de white fokes used to bet amongst de selves as much as
+$20.00 dat I could outrun dat horse. De way us did, wuz to run a hundred
+yards one way, turn around and den run back de hundred yards. Somebody
+would hold de horse, and another man would pop de whip fer us to start.
+Quick as de whip popped, I wuz off. I would git sometimes ten feet ahead
+of de horse 'fore dey could git him started. Den when I had got de
+hundred yards, I could turn around quicker dan de horse would, and I
+would git a little mo' ahead. Corse wid dat, you had to be a swift man
+on yer feets to stay head of a fas horse. Peter used to git so mad when
+I would beat his ole horse, and den all de niggers would laf at him
+kaise de white fokes give me some of de bettin money. Sometimes dey
+would bet only $10.00, sometimes, $15 or $20. Den I would race wid de
+white fokes horses too. Dey nebber got mad when I come out ahead. After
+I got through, my legs used to jus shake like a leaf. So now, I is gib
+plum out in dem and I tributes it to dat. Evvie, she lowed when I used
+to do dat after we wuz married, dat I wuz gwine to give out in my legs,
+and sho nuf I is."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle" Henry says that his legs have given out in the bone.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Henry Coleman and his wife, Evvie, of Carlisle, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>District #4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 31, 1937</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born about 1857 and my wife about 1859. I lived on Squire
+Keller's farm, near the Parr place, and after the squire died I belonged
+to Mrs. Elizabeth (Wright) Keller. My mother died when I was a boy and
+my father was bought and carried to Alabama. My father was Gilliam
+Coleman and my mother, Emoline Wright. My master and mistress was good
+to me. The old Squire was as fine a man as ever lived on earth. He took
+me in his home and took care of me. After the war the mistress stayed on
+the place and worked the slaves right on, giving them wages or shares.</p>
+
+<p>"The slaves were not whipped much; I 'member one man was whipped pretty
+bad on Maj. Kinard's place. He had a colored man to do whipping for
+him&mdash;his name was Eph. There was no whiskey on the place, never made
+any. Us did cooking in the kitchen wid wide fireplaces.</p>
+
+<p>"When the Yankees came through at the end of the war, they took all the
+stock we had. The mistress had a fine horse, its tail touching the
+ground, and we all cried when it was taken; but we got it back, as some
+men went after it.</p>
+
+<p>"I married in 1874 to Ellen T. Williams. She belonged to Bill Reagan.
+After I married I worked in the railroad shops at "Helena", and
+sometimes I fired the engine on the road, for about eight years. Then I
+went into the ministry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> I was called by the Spirit of the Lord,
+gradually, and I preached 51 years. I have been superannuated two years.</p>
+
+<p>"I have one child, a son, who is in the pullman service at Washington,
+D. C.</p>
+
+<p>"I owned my little house and several acres and am still living on it."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Rev. Tuff Coleman and wife (80 and 78), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, May 27, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>MOM LOUISA COLLIER</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 78 years.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I born en raise up dere in Colonel Durant yard en I in my 78th year
+now. Dat seem lak I ole, don' it? Coase Colonel Durant hab plenty udder
+colored peoples 'sides us, but dey ne'er lib dere in de yard lak we. Dey
+lib up in de quarters on de plantation. My pappy name Ben Thompson en he
+hadder stay dere close to de big house cause he wus de Colonel driver.
+De Colonel hab uh big ole carriage wha' to ride in den. It hab uh little
+seat in de front fa my pappy to set in en den it hab two seat 'hind de
+driver whey de Colonel en he family is ride. I kin see dat carriage jes
+uz good right now dat my white folks hab to carry em whey dey is wanna
+go."</p>
+
+<p>"Den my mammy come from de udder side uv Pee Dee en she name, Lidia
+Bass. She was de servant 'round de yard dere en dat count fa we to ne'er
+stay in de quarters wid de udder colored peoples 'fore freedom declare.
+I ne'er hadder do no work long uz I lib dere in de yard cause I ain'
+been but five year ole when freedom declare. My grandmammy lib right
+dere close us en Colonel Durant hab she jes to look a'ter aw de
+plantation chillun when dey parents wuz workin'. Aw uv de plantation
+peoples 'ud take dey chillun dere fa my grandmammy to nu'se."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I 'member one day dere come uh crowd uv peoples dere dat dey tell us
+chillun wuz de Yankees. Dey come right dere t'rough de Colonel yard en
+when I see em, I wuz 'fraid uv em. I run en hide under my grandmammy
+bed. Don' know wha' dey say cause I ain' ge' close 'nough to hear nuthin
+wha' dey talk 'bout. De white folks hadder herry (hurry) en put t'ings
+in pots en bury em or hide em somewhey when dey hear dat de Yankees wus
+comin' cause dey scare dem Yankees might take dey t'ings lak dey is
+carry 'way udder folks t'ings. I hear em say dey ne'er take nuthin from
+de Colonel but some uv he wood."</p>
+
+<p>"My white folks was well-off peoples en dey ain' ne'er use no harsh
+treatment on dey plantation peoples. De Colonel own aw dis land 'bout
+here den en he see dat he overseer on de plantation provide plenty uv
+eve't'ing us need aw de time. I hear tell 'bout some uv de white folks
+'ud beat dey colored peoples mos' to death, but I ain' ne'er see none uv
+dat no whey. I is 'member when dey'ud sell some uv de colored peoples
+way offen to annuder plantation somewhey. Jes been bid em offen jes lak
+dey wuz cattle. Some uv de time dey'ud sell uh man wife 'way en den he
+hadder ge' annuder wife."</p>
+
+<p>"A'ter freedom declare, we ne'er lib dere at de big house no more. Move
+in de colored settlement en den we ain' eat at de big house no more
+neither. Dey le' us hab uh garden uv we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> own den en raise us own chicken
+en aw dat. I 'member de Colonel gi'e us so mucha t'ing eve'y week en it
+hadder las' us from one Saturday to de next. My mammy 'ud go to de
+Colonel barn eve'y week en ge' she portion uv meal en meat. Dat de way
+dey pay de hand fa dey work den. Ne'er gi'e em no money den."</p>
+
+<p>"Peoples wha' lib on Colonel Durant plantation ain' know nuthin but to
+lib on de fat uv de land. Dey hab plenty cows den en dey gi'e us plenty
+uv milk eve'y day. I 'member we chillun use'er take we tin cup en go up
+to de big house en ge' us milk to drink en den some uv de cows 'ud be so
+gentle lak dat we chillun is follow em right down side de path. Den when
+dere ne'er wuz nobody lak de Colonel overseer 'bout to see us, we is
+ketch de cow en ge' some more milk. I al'ays'ud lub to drink me milk dat
+way. We is eat plenty green peas en 'tatoes en fish in dem days too en
+dey is use 'tatoe pie right smart den."</p>
+
+<p>"Aw de colored peoples on Colonel Durant plantation hab good bed wha' to
+sleep on en good clothes to put on dey back. Coase we ne'er hab no
+bought fu'niture in dem days, but we hab bedstead wha' dey make right
+dere en benches en some uv de time dey is make wha' dey call 'way back
+chair. Den we is make us own bed outer hay cause de white folks ne'er
+spare de colored peoples no cotton den. Hadder cut de hay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> in de fall uv
+de year en dry it jes lak dey dries it fa to feed de cattle on. Den dey
+hadder take sack en sew em up togedder en put de hay in dese. Dey sleep
+right smart in dem days. Don' mucha people sleep on straw bed dese day
+en time en dey don' dress lak dey use'er neither. I 'member de long
+dress dey is wear den. Hadder hold em up when dey walk so dey won' tetch
+de floor 'bout em. Den some uv dem is wear wha' dey call leggens. Dey'ud
+gather em 'round de knee en le' em show 'bout de ankle. Dey wuz pretty,
+dat dey wuz. De white folks'ud make de plantation clothes outer calico
+en jeanes cloth en dat time. De jeanes cloth be wha' dey make de boy
+clothes outer. Dey is weave aw dey cloth right dere on de plantation en
+den dey use'er dye de thread en weave aw sorta check outer de different
+color thread. Wha' dey make de dye outer? Dey ge' bark outer de woods en
+boil de color outer it en den dey boil de thread in dat. Dat how dey is
+make dey dye. Ne'er see de peoples hab no hat lak dey hab now neither.
+Aw de colored peoples wear wha' dey call shuck hat den cause dey been
+make outer shuck. Dat aw de kinder hat we is hab."</p>
+
+<p>"Peoples use'er ge' aw kinder useful t'ing outer de woods in dem days
+'way back dere. Ne'er hadder buy no me'icine tall den. Ain' ne'er been
+no better cough cure no whey den de one my ole mammy use'er make fa we
+chillun. She larnt 'bout how it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> made when she stay 'round de Missus en
+dat how come I know wha' in it. Jes hadder go in de woods en ge' some
+cherry, call dat wild cherry, en cut some uv de wild cherry bark fust
+(first) t'ing. A'ter dat yuh hadder find some uv dese long-leaf pine en
+ge' de bud outer dat. Den yuh hadder go to whey dere some sweet gum grow
+en ge' de top outer dem en ge' some mullen to put wid it. Ain' ne'er no
+cough stand aw dat mix up togedder in no day en time. Dey gi'e dat to de
+peoples fa dat t'ing wha' dey use'er call de grip cough. Den dey use'er
+make uh t'ing dat dey call "bone set" tea. I forge' how dey make it but
+dey gi'e it to de peoples when dey hab de fevers. It been so bitter dat
+it'ud lift yuh up 'fore yuh is ge' it aw down de t'roat. Ain' see no
+fever me'icine lak dat nowadays."</p>
+
+<p>"Yas'um, I 'members when dey hab plenty uv dem cornshucking to one
+annuder barn. De peoples'ud come from aw de plantation 'bout dere. Dem
+corn-shuckings wuz big times, dat dey wuz. Gi'e eve'body aw de
+"hopping-john" dey kin eat. Jes cook it aw in uh big pot dere in de yard
+to de big house. Ain' nuthin ne'er eat no better den dat "hopping-john"
+is eat."</p>
+
+<p>"Den de peoples use'er come from aw de plantation 'bout en hab big
+dancing dere. Dat when I lub to be 'bout. Dey hab uh big fire build up
+outer in de yard en dat wha' dey dance 'round 'bout. Call dat uh torch
+fire. Dey'ud hab fiddle en dey dance wha' dey call de reel dance den. I
+'member I use'er<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> lub to watch dey feet when dat fiddle 'ud ge' to
+playing. I jes crawl right down on me knees dere whey I'ud see dey feet
+jes uh going."</p>
+
+<p>"I ne'er hab mucha schooling 'fore freedom declare cause I been raise up
+on de plantation. Dis child (her daughter) pappy wuz de house boy to de
+big house en he ge' more schooling den I is. De Missus larnt he how to
+read en write she self. A'ter freedom declare, I go to school to uh
+white man up dere to de ole Academy en den I is go to annuder school
+down dere to uh blacksmith shop. I go to uh white man dere too. Ne'er
+hab no colored teacher den cause dey ain' hab 'nough schooling den. Dese
+chillun don' know nuthin 'bout dem times. I tell dese chillun I don'
+know wha' dey wanna run 'bout so mucha cause dere plenty t'ing to see
+dat pass right dere by us house eve'y day. I t'ink dis uh better day en
+time to lib en cause dis uh brighter day now dat we hab."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Mom Louisa Collier, age 78, colored, Marion, S. C</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Personal interview, May 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>JOHN COLLINS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE, 85 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>John Collins lives in a two-room frame cottage by the side of US 21,
+just one mile north of the town of Winnsboro, S. C. on the right side of
+the highway and a few hundred yards from the intersection of US 21 and
+US 22. The house is owned by Mr. John Ameen. His son, John, who lives
+with him, is a farm hand in the employ of Mr. John Ameen, and is his
+father's only support.</p>
+
+<p>"They tells me dat I was born in Chester County, just above de line dat
+separates Chester and Fairfield Counties. You know where de 'dark
+corner' is, don't you? Well, part is in Fairfield County and part is in
+Chester County. In dat corner I first see de light of day; 'twas on de
+29th of February, 1852. Though I is eighty-five years old, I's had only
+twenty-one birthdays. I ketches a heap of folks wid dat riddle. They ask
+me: 'How old is you Uncle John?' I say: 'I is had twenty-one birthdays
+and won't have another till 1940. Now figure it out yourself, sir, if
+you is so curious to know my age!' One time a smart aleck, jack-leg,
+Methodist preacher, of my race, come to my house and figured all day on
+dat riddle and never did git de correct answer. He scribbled on all de
+paper in de house and on de back of de calendar leaves. I sure laughed
+at dat preacher. I fears he lacked some of dat good old time 'ligion, de
+way he sweated and scribbled and fussed.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy was name Steve Chandler. My mammy was called Nancy. I don't
+know whether they was married or not. My daddy was sent to Virginia,
+while de war was gwine on, to build forts and breastworks around
+Petersburg, so they say, and him never come back. I 'members him well.
+He was a tall black man, over six feet high, wid broad shoulders. My
+son, John, look just lak him. Daddy used to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> play wid mammy just lak she
+was a child. He'd ketch her under de armpits and jump her up mighty nigh
+to de rafters in de little house us lived in.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy and me was slaves of old Marse Nick Collins. His wife, my
+mistress, was name Miss Nannie. Miss Nannie was just an angel; all de
+slaves loved her. But marster was hard to please, and he used de lash
+often. De slaves whisper his name in fear and terror to de chillun, when
+they want to hush them up. They just say to a crying child: 'Shet up or
+old Nick will ketch you!' Dat child sniffle but shet up pretty quick.</p>
+
+<p>"Marster didn't have many slaves. Best I 'member, dere was about twenty
+men, women, and chillun to work in de field and five house slaves. Dere
+was no good feelin's 'twixt field hands and house servants. De house
+servants put on more airs than de white folks. They got better things to
+eat, too, than de field hands and wore better and cleaner clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"My marster had one son, Wyatt, and two daughters, Nannie and Elizabeth.
+They was all right, so far as I 'member, but being a field hand's child,
+off from de big house, I never got to play wid them any.</p>
+
+<p>"My white folks never cared much about de slaves having 'ligion. They
+went to de Universalist Church down at Feasterville. They said everybody
+was going to be saved, dat dere was no hell. So they thought it was just
+a waste of time telling niggers about de hereafter.</p>
+
+<p>"In them days, way up dere in de 'dark corner', de white folks didn't
+had no schools and couldn't read or write. How could they teach deir
+slaves if they had wanted to?</p>
+
+<p>"De Yankees never come into de 'dark corner'. It was in 1867, dat us
+found out us was free; then we all left. I come down to Feasterville and
+stayed wid Mr. Jonathan Coleman. From dere, I went to Chester. While I
+was living dere,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> I married Maggie Nesbit. Us had five chillun; they all
+dead, 'cept John. My wife died two months ago.</p>
+
+<p>"I is tired now, and I is sad. I's thinking about Maggie and de days dat
+are gone. Them memories flood over me, and I just want to lay down.
+Maybe I'll see you sometime again. I feel sure I'll see Maggie befo'
+many months and us'll see de sunrise, down here, from de far hebben
+above. Good day. Glad you come to see me, sir!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Nov. 29, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Time is but time, and how is I to know when I was born when everybody
+knows dat dey never had no calendars when I come here. Few it was dat
+ever seed even a Lady's Birthday Almanac. I is 75 years old. I was dat
+last January on de 13th day [<b>HW: 1862</b>]. I was born in old Union County
+about 4 miles south of Gaffney.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Mike Montgomery had a place dat reached from town way yonder to
+Broad River whar de Ninety-nine Islands lays. Now, de way de road lays,
+dey counts it twelve miles from Gaffney. When I was a boy it was lots
+further dan dat.</p>
+
+<p>"Never know'd why, but de Red Shirts whipped my pa, Tom Corry. Dey jes'
+come and got him out'n his house. He come back in de house. Chilluns was
+not give no privileges in dem days, so I never axed no questions, kaise
+I was fear'd. Chilluns jes' trots into your business dese days.</p>
+
+<p>"My pa say he was a slave on dem Ninety-nine Islands. All I know is what
+he told me. Mr. Mike Montgomery built lots of boats. Dey carried from 50
+to 60 bales of cotton down at one time. De cotton was carried in de
+fall. De Smith place jined de Montgomery place and dat run into de Nancy
+Corry place. I have forded de river dar lots of times. Broad River is
+shallow, deepest place in it back den was at de mouth of King Creek,
+jes' below Cherokee Falls. It ain't so broad dar.</p>
+
+<p>"Pa was de boatman for Mr. Mike. De boat was big and long, and dey
+always started off early in de morning wid a load of cotton. Old man
+Dick Corry had to stand in de boat jes' behind pa. Dey had two steermen.
+So many rocks in de shallow water dat it kept de steermen busy dodging
+rooks. Dey pushed de boat off de rocks wid long poles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> Dey had to work
+away from de rocks. Sometimes dey had to get out in de water and roll
+some rocks from dere path if de water wasn't cold.</p>
+
+<p>"Wharever night caught dem, dar dey stopped and pitched a camp. Dey
+fished and killed wild ducks or birds dat was plentiful den, and cooked
+dem along wid bread and other things fetched from home. On de way from
+Columbia dey had lots of store-bought things to eat. Store-bought things
+was a treat den. Now ducks and things is a treat. Times sho changes
+fast.</p>
+
+<p>"Spring was took up wid farming. Every man, white and black, had a
+family back in dem days. Dat dey did, rich or poor, white or black, all
+raised families. Men farmed and hauled manure and cleaned up de
+plantation lots and fields and grubbed in de spring. Women cooked and
+washed and ironed and spun and kept house and made everybody in de house
+clothes, and made all de bed clothes. Dey stayed home all of de time.
+Men got through work and set down at home wid deir wives and never run
+around. Now all goes. Dat's all dey does dese days is go.</p>
+
+<p>"We had plenty of bread and milk and we raised hogs and killed all kinds
+of wild things like turkey, ducks and birds, and caught fish. Men had
+guns dat dey used every day, and dey hit things, too. Folks kept in
+practice, wid guns and had shooting matches.</p>
+
+<p>"After dey stopped boating, wagons come in. Den things begin to change.
+Dey still is changing. Wagons went to Spartanburg to take cotten. Folks
+never went to Columbia no more. Spartanburg begin to grow and it sho
+still is at it."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Bouregard Corry (N, 75), Rt. 2, Gaffney, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (11/22/37).</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>CALEB CRAIG</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX SLAVE 86 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Caleb Craig lives in a four-room house, with a hall, eight feet wide,
+through the center and a fireplace in each room. He lives with his
+grandson, who looks after him.</p>
+
+<p>"Who I is? I goes by de name of C. C. All de colored people speaks of me
+in dat way. C. C. dis and C. C. dat. I don't 'ject but my real name is
+Caleb Craig. Named after one of de three spies dat de Bible tell 'bout.
+Him give de favorite report and, 'cause him did, God feed him and clothe
+him all de balance of him life and take him into de land of Canaan,
+where him and Joshua have a long happy life. I seen a picture in a book,
+one time, of Joshua and Caleb, one end of a pole on Joshua's shoulder
+and one end on Caleb's shoulder, wid big bunches of grapes a hangin'
+from dat pole. Canaan must to been a powerful fertile land to make
+grapes lak dat.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you believe dat I can't write? Some of them adultery (adult)
+teachers come to my house but it seem a pack of foolishness; too much
+trouble. I just rather put my money in de bank, go dere when I want it,
+set dat C. C. to de check, and git what I want.</p>
+
+<p>"When I born? Christmas Eve, 1851. Where 'bouts? Blackstock, S. C. Don't
+none of us know de day or de place us was born. Us have to take dat on
+faith. You know where de old Bell house, 'bove Blackstock, is? Dere's
+where I come to light. De old stagecoach, 'tween Charlotte and Columbia,
+changed hosses and stop dere but de railroad busted all dat up.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy name Martha. Marse John soon give us chillun to his daughter,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>
+Miss Marion. In dat way us separated from our mammy. Her was a mighty
+pretty colored woman and I has visions and dreams of her, in my sleep,
+sometime yet. My sisters would call me Cale but her never did. Her say
+Caleb every time and all de time. Marse John give her to another
+daughter of his, Miss Nancy, de widow Thompson then, but afterwards her
+marry a hoss drover from Kentucky, Marse Jim Jones. I can tell you funny
+things 'bout him if I has time befo' I go.</p>
+
+<p>"Us chillun was carried down to de June place where Miss Marion and her
+husband, Marse Ed P. Mobley live. It was a fine house, built by old Dr.
+June. Marse Ed bought de plantation, for de sake of de fine house, where
+he want to take Miss Marion as a bride.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was a whole passle of niggers in de quarter, three hundred or
+maybe more. I didn't count them, 'cause I couldn't count up to a hundred
+but I can now. Ten, ten, double ten, forty-five, and fifteen. Don't dat
+make a hundred? Sho' it do.</p>
+
+<p>"Clothes? Too many dere, for to clothe them much. I b'long to de
+shirt-tail brigade 'til I got to be a man. Why I use to plow in my
+shirt-tail! Well, it wasn't so bad in de summer time and us had big
+fires in de winter time, inside and outside de house, whenever us was
+working'. 'Til I was twelve years old I done nothin' but play.</p>
+
+<p>"Money? Hell no! Excuse me, but de question so surprise me, I's caught
+off my guard. Food? Us got farm produce, sich as corn-meal, bacon,
+'lasses, bread, milk, collards, turnips, 'tators, peanuts, and punkins.</p>
+
+<p>"De overseer was Mr. Brown. My marster was much talked 'bout for workin'
+us on Sunday. He was a lordly old fellow, as I 'member, but dere was
+never anything lak plowin' on Sunday, though I do 'member de hands
+workin' 'bout<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> de hay and de fodder.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Ed, a great fox hunter, kep' a pack of hounds. Sometime they run
+deer. Old Uncle Phil was in charge of de pack. Him had a special dog for
+to tree 'possums in de nighttime and squirrels in de daytime. Believe
+me, I lak 'possum de best. You lak 'possum? Well, I'll git my grandson
+to hunt you one dis comin' October.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Ed didn't 'low patarollers (patrollers) on de June place. He tell
+them to stay off and they knowed to stay off.</p>
+
+<p>"Slave drovers often come to de June place, just lak mule drovers and
+hog drovers. They buy, sell, and swap niggers, just lak they buy, sell,
+and swap hosses, mules, and hogs.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had preachin' in de quarters on Sunday. Uncle Dick, a old man, was
+de preacher. De funerals was simple and held at night. De grave was dug
+dat day.</p>
+
+<p>"A man dat had a wife off de place, see little peace or happiness. He
+could see de wife once a week, on a pass, and jealousy kep' him
+'stracted de balance of de week, if he love her very much.</p>
+
+<p>"I marry Martha Pickett. Why I marry her? Well, I see so many
+knock-knee, box-ankle, spindly-shank, flat nose chillun, when I was
+growin' up, dat when I come to choose de filly to fold my colts, I picks
+one dat them mistakes wasn't so lakly to appear in. Us have five
+chillun. Lucy marry a Sims and live in Winnsboro, S. C. Maggie marry a
+Wallace and live in Charlotte, N. C. Mary marry a Brice and live in
+Chester, S. C. Jane not married; she live wid her sister, Mag, in
+Charlotte. John lives 'bove White Oak and farms on a large place I own,
+not a scratch of pen against it by de government or a bank.</p>
+
+<p>"I live on 27 acres, just out de town of Winnsboro. I expects no
+pension. My grandchillun come and go, back'ards and fo'ards, and tell me
+'bout<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> cities, and high falutin' things goin' on here and dere. I looks
+them over sometime for to see if I didn't do sumpin' for deir figures,
+in s'lectin' and marryin' Martha, dat's more important to them than de
+land I'll leave them when I die. When Martha die, I marry a widow name
+Eliza but us never generate any chillun. Her dead. Not 'nough spark in
+me to undertake de third trip, though I still is a subject of 'tentions.</p>
+
+<p>"What 'bout Marse Ed and Marse Jim Jones? Well, you see, Marse Jim was
+close wid his money. Marse Ed was a spender. I 'tend Marse Ed to a
+chicken main once. Marse Jim rode up just as Marse Ed was puttin' up
+$300.00 on a pile brass wing rooster, 'ginst a black breasted red war
+hoss rooster, dat de McCarleys was backin'. Marse Ed lost de bet. But
+him never told Marse Jim, dat befo' he rode up, him had won $500.00 from
+them same men. After de main was over, Marse Jim, bein' brudder-in-law
+to Marse Ed, rode home to dinner wid him. After dinner they was smokin'
+deir cigars befo' de parlor fire dat I was 'viving up. Marse Jim lecture
+Marse Ed for throwin' 'way money. Marse Ed stretch out his long legs and
+say: 'Mr. Jones does you 'member dat day us 'tended de circus in Chester
+and as us got to de top of de hill a blind begger held out his cup to us
+and you put in a quarter?' Mr. Jones say he does 'member dat. Marse Ed
+went on: 'Well, Mr. Jones, I had a dream last night. I dream us comin'
+through de Cumberland Mountains wid a drove of mules from Kentucky. You
+was ridin' a piebald hoss, de same one you rode into South Carolina de
+fust time you come here. You had on a faded, frazzled grey shawl, 'bout
+lak de one you had on today. Us was in front, de outriders behind, when
+us got to de gap in de mountains. De drove stampede just as us git in de
+gap. Us was both kilt. You got to heaven befo' I did. When I did git
+dere, you was befo' de High Court. They examine you and turn over de
+leaves of a big book and find very little dere to your credit. At last
+they say, I think it was de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> 'Postle Peter dat ask de question. Him say:
+'Everything is recorded in dis book. Us can find nothin'. Do you happen
+to 'member anything you did to your credit down dere on earth?' Then you
+stand up wid dat old shawl 'round your shoulders and say: 'Aha! I do
+'member one thing. One day I was in Chester and put a quarter of a
+dollar in a blind man's tin cup.' De 'postle then tell de recording
+angel to see if him could find dat deed. Him turn over de leaves 'til
+him found it on de page. Then de twelve 'postles retire and 'liberate on
+your case. They come back and de judge pass sentence which was: 'The
+sentence of de High Court is, that in view of your great love of money,
+James Jones, it is de sentence of de court dat you be given back de
+quarter you give de blind beggar in Chester and dat you, James Jones, be
+sent immediate on your way to hell.' Then they both laugh over dat and
+Marse Jim got real happy when he find out Marse Ed quit de main wid
+$200.00 to de good."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Address:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Caleb Craig,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Winnsboro, S. C.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That part of the suburb of Winnsboro called "Mexico". Just east of the</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Southern Railway Company and north of Winnsboro Cotton Mills.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>DINAH CUNNINGHAM</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 84 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Dinah Cunningham lives about seven miles west of Ridgeway, S. C., on the
+Hood place about a hundred yards off the old Devil's Race Track road.
+She lives with her daughter and son-in-law and their three children.
+They live in a two-room frame house with a shed room annex. In the
+annex, Dinah and the smaller children sleep. They are kind to Dinah, who
+is feeble and can do no farm labor. Dinah is as helpless about the home
+as a child.</p>
+
+<p>"I's come up here 'bout seventeen miles for to let you see me. 'Spect
+you don't see much in dis old worn out critter. Now does you?</p>
+
+<p>"Well, here I is, and I wants you white folks to help me, 'cause I's
+served you from generation to generation. Wid de help of de Lord and
+trustin' in Jesus de Lamb, I knows I's goin' to git help. When is they
+gwine to start payin' off? I's heard them say how you got to be on de
+roll and signed up befo' de fourth day of July. So here I is!</p>
+
+<p>"I was born de fust day of March, 1853, out from Ridgeway, sunrise side.
+My marster was David Robertson and my mistress name Sally. Her was
+mighty pretty. Her was a Rembert befo' she marry Marse Dave. They had
+one child dat I was de nurse for and her name was Luray. Her marry Marse
+Charlie Ray.</p>
+
+<p>"De onliest whippin' I got was 'bout dat child. I had de baby on de
+floor on a pallet and rolled over on it. Her make a squeal like she was
+much hurt and mistress come in a hurry. After de baby git quiet and go
+to sleep, she said: 'Dinah, I hates to whip you but de Good Book say,
+spare de rod and spoil de child.' Wid dat, she goes out and git a little
+switch off de crepe myrtle bush and come back and took my left hand in
+her left hand,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> dat had all de rings on de fingers, and us had it 'round
+dat room. I make a big holler as she 'plied dat switch on dese very legs
+dat you sees here today. They is big and fat now and can scarcely wobble
+me 'long but then, they was lean and hard and could carry me 'long like
+a deer in de woods.</p>
+
+<p>"My white folks was no poor white trash, I tells you! Good marse and
+good mistress had heap of slaves and overseers. One overseer name Mr.
+Welch. De buckra folks dat come visitin', use to laugh at de way he put
+grease on his hair, and de way he scraped one foot back'ards on de
+ground or de floor when they shake hands wid him. He never say much, but
+just set in his chair, pull de sides of his mustache and say 'Yas sah'
+and 'No sah', to them dat speak to him. He speak a whole lot though,
+when he git down in de quarters where de slaves live. He wasn't like de
+same man then. He woke everybody at daylight, and sometime he help de
+patrollers to search de houses for to ketch any slaves widout a pass.</p>
+
+<p>"Us had all us need to eat, sich as was good for us. Marse like to see
+his slaves fat and shiny, just like he want to see de carriage hosses
+slick and spanky, when he ride out to preachin' at Ainswell and sometime
+de Episcopal church at Ridgeway. My young mistress jine de Baptist
+church after she marry, and I 'member her havin' a time wid sewin'
+buckshots in de hem of de dress her was baptized in. They done dat, you
+knows, to keep de skirt from floatin' on top of de water. You never have
+thought 'bout dat? Well, just ask any Baptist preacher and he'll tell
+you dat it has been done.</p>
+
+<p>"When de Yankees come, they went through de big house, tore up
+everything, ripped open de feather beds and cotton mattresses, searchin'
+for money and jewels. Then they had us slaves ketch de chickens, flung
+open de smoke-house, take de meat, meal, flour, and put them in a
+four-hoss wagon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> and went on down to Longtown. Them was scandlous days,
+boss! I hope never to see de likes of them times wid dese old eyes
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member 'bout de Ku Klux just one time, though I heard 'bout them a
+heap. They come on de Robertson place all dressed up wid sheets and
+false faces, ridin' on hossback, huntin' for a republican and a radical
+nigger, (I forgits his name, been so long) but they didn't find him.
+They sho' was a sight and liked to scared us all to death.</p>
+
+<p>"Was I ever married? Sure I was, I marry Mack Cunningham. Us was jined
+in de holy wedlock by Marse Alex Matherson, a white trial justice. Ask
+him and he'll tell you when it was. I's got some chillun by dat husband.
+There is William at Charlotte, and Rosy at Ridgeway. Rosy, her marry a
+man name Peay. Then there is Millie Gover at Rembert and Lila Brown at
+Smallwood, de station where Marse Charlie Ray and my Mistress Luray was
+killed by a railroad train runnin' into de automobile they was in. Then
+there is my daughter, Delia Belton, at Ridgeway, and John L., a son
+livin' and farmin' at Cedar Creek.</p>
+
+<p>"I b'longs to de Mt. Olivet Church dat you knows 'bout. White folks
+comes there sometime for to hear de singin'. They say us can carry de
+song better than white folks. Well, maybe us does love de Lord just a
+little bit better, and what's in our mouth is in our hearts.</p>
+
+<p>"What you gwine to charge for all dat writin' you got down there? If you
+writes much more maybe I ain't got enough money to pay for it. I got a
+dollar here but if it's more than dat you'll have to wait on me for de
+balance. You say it don't cost nothin'? Well, glory hallelujah for dat!
+I'll just go 'round to de colored restaurant and enjoy myself wid beef
+stew, rice, new potatoes, macaroni and a cup of coffee. I wonder what
+they'll have for dessert. 'Spect it'll be some kind of puddin'. But I'd
+be more pleased if you would take half of this dollar and go get you a
+good dinner, too. I would like to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> please you dat much!</p>
+
+<p>"May de good Lord be a watch 'tween me and you 'til us meets again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #-1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Phoebe Faucette</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Hampton County</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>LUCY DANIELS</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Aunt Lucy is a tall well-built old woman who looks younger than her
+years. She delights in talking, and was glad to tell what she knew about
+the olden times.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know how old I been when de war end. If I been in de world I
+wasn't old enough to pick up nuthin'. Miss Lulie Bowers say I'll be 78
+first of March coming. Miss Lulie was my 'young Missus'. I love Miss
+Lulie, and I thinks she thinks a heap of me&mdash;my young Missus, and her
+father, my young Massa. He good to his darkies. He was a rich man&mdash;even
+after de war. Miss Lulie say she was de only young lady that could go
+off to college after de war. Miss Lulie help me powerful. She give me
+shoes, and beddin. She and me grow up together. She is in de bed sick
+now. I jes' come from dere. Had de doctor to see her.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear 'em tell 'bout how de soldiers burn 'em out. My mother would
+tell me. My father had gone off to fight. Say dey'd tie de hams an' de
+things on de saddle&mdash;and burn de expensive houses. White folks jes' had
+to hide everything. She talk 'bout all de men was gone and de women had
+to pile up, four or five in one house to protect deyselves. My father
+say when dey been 'rough-few-gieing' (refugeeing) de Beaufort Bridge
+been burn down. He say he been so hungry one time he stop to a old
+lady's house and ask her for something to eat. She say she didn't have
+nothing but some dry bread. He take de bread, but he say it been so
+hard, he threw some of it away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> But he say he so hungry he wish he
+hadn't throw it away. It was a hard time. Used to have to weave cloth
+and dye thread. Had a loom to weave on and a spinning wheel. My
+grandmother say de Yankees come to her house and take everything, but
+she say one little pullet run out in de weeds and hide and de soldiers
+couldn't find her. She say dat pullet lay and hatch and dat how dey got
+start off again. Dey scramble and dey raise us some how or another.</p>
+
+<p>"I had nine chillun for my first husband and one for my second husband.
+I raise 'em all 'till dey grown; but all dead now 'cept three. My
+husband died last year, I had to work for my chillun. But my second
+husband, he help me wid 'em.</p>
+
+<p>"Dat's all I kin tell you, Miss. I don't remember so much. Chillun in
+those days weren't so bright as dey is now, you know."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Lucy Daniels, 78 ex-slave, Luray, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Nov. 30, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>(John Davenport)</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"My family belonged in slavery time to old Marse Pierce Lake who was de
+Clerk of Court in town, or de Probate Judge. He lived at de old Campbell
+Havird House and I lived dar wid him. My mother belonged to dis Lake
+family and she was named Martha Lake. I don't know who my father was,
+but I was told he was a white man.</p>
+
+<p>"We slaves had good enough quarters to live in, and dey give us plenty
+to eat. De house I live in now is fair, but it has a bad roof. It is my
+wife's chillun's place. My wife had it and left it to dem. She was Ellen
+Gallman, a widow when I married her. Only my blind daughter now live wid
+me. I was married five times and had eighteen chilluns by three wives.
+Each of my wives died befo' I married agin. I didn't separate from any.
+My mother's father lived wid Marse Lake. He and his wife come from
+Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>"I was a boy in slavery and worked and piddled round de house. Sometimes
+I had to work de corn or in de garden. We had plenty to eat. As de old
+saying is, 'We lived at home and boarded at de same place.' We raised
+everything we had to eat, vegetables, hogs, cows and de like. Marster
+had a big garden, but he didn't let his slaves have any garden of deir
+own. We made all our clothes, homespun. My mother used to spin at night
+and work out all day; lots of niggers had to do dat.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Lake was good to his niggers, but he had to whip dem sometimes,
+when dey was mean. He had six or eight slaves, some on de upper place
+and some on de home place. We got up at daylight and worked all day,
+except for dinner lunch, till it was sundown.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We never worked at night in de fields. Sometimes Marse would have
+corn-shuckings and de neighbors would come in and help catch up wid
+shucking de corn; den dey would have something to eat. De young folks
+would come, too, and help, and dey would dance and frolic.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't learn to read and write. Marse never said anything about it.
+My sister learned when some of de white women school teachers boarded at
+Marse Lake's house. De teachers learn't my sister when she was de maid
+of de house, and she could read and write good. Didn't have a school or
+church on de plantation. Atter de war, some of de niggers started a
+brush arbor. Befo' de war, some of us niggers had to come to town wid de
+white folks and go to deir church and set in de gallery.</p>
+
+<p>"De patrollers was sometimes mean. If dey catch'd a nigger away from
+home widout a pass dey sho whipped him, but dey never got any of us. Dey
+come to our house once, but didn't git anybody.</p>
+
+<p>"We had to work all day Saturdays, but not Sundays. Sometimes de fellows
+would slip off and hunt or fish a little on Sunday. Women would do
+washing on Saturday nights, or other nights. We had three days holiday
+when Christmas come, and we had plenty good things to eat, but we had to
+cook it ourselves. De marster would give de chillun little pieces of
+candy.</p>
+
+<p>"Chillun had games like marbles and anti-over. Dey played anti-over by a
+crowd gitting on each side of de house and throwing a ball from one side
+to de other. Whoever got de ball would run around on de other side and
+hit somebody wid it; den he was out of de game. We never believed much
+in ghosts or spooks. I never saw any.</p>
+
+<p>"Some of de folks had remedies for curing, like making hot tea from a
+weed called 'bone-set'. Dat weed grows wild in de woods.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> It was good
+for chills and fever. De tea is awful bitter. Little bags of asafetida
+was used to hang around de little chillun's necks to ward off fever or
+diptheria.</p>
+
+<p>"We used to call de cows on de plantation like dis: 'co-winch,
+co-winch'. We called de mules like dis: 'co, co', and de hogs and pigs,
+'pig-oo, pig-oo'. We had dogs on de place, too, to hunt wid.</p>
+
+<p>"When freedom come, de marster told us we could go away or stay on. Most
+of us stayed on wid him. Soon atter dis, he got mad at me one day and
+told me to git off de place. I come to town and stayed about two weeks,
+piddling around to git along. I found out whar my mother was&mdash;she had
+been sold and sent away. She was in Saluda (Old Town). I went to her and
+stayed two weeks; den she come to Newberry and rented a little cabin on
+Beaver Dam Creek, near Silver Street.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember hearing about de Yankees. When dey come through here dey
+camped in town to keep order and peace. I remember de Ku Klux, too, how
+some of 'em killed niggers. I voted in town on de Republican ticket. I
+am still a Republican. None of my friends held office, but I remember
+some of dem. Old Lee Nance was one, and he was killed by a white man.</p>
+
+<p>"Since de war, de niggers have worked mostly on farms, renting and
+wage-hands. Some of dem have bought little places. Some moved to town
+and do carpenter work, and others jes' piddle around.</p>
+
+<p>"Some of de dances de niggers had was, 'Jump Jim Crow'; one nigger would
+jump up and down while tripping and dancing in de same spot. Some times
+he say, 'Every time I jump, I jump Jim Crow.' We had what was called a
+'Juber' game. He would dance a jig and sing, 'Juber this, Juber that,
+Juber killed a yellow cat'.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I never thought much about Abraham Lincoln nor Jefferson Davis. Only
+seed de pictures of dem. Reckon dey was all right. Don't know nothing
+about Booker Washington, neither.</p>
+
+<p>"I was 25 years old when I joined de church. I joined because I thought
+I ought to, people preaching Christ and him crucified; and I thought I
+ought to do right. Think everybody ought to join de church and be
+religious.</p>
+
+<p>"What I think of de present generation is hard to say. Dey is not like
+de old people was. De old generation of chilluns could be depended on,
+but de present niggers can't be.</p>
+
+<p>"No, de slaves never expected anything when de war was over, dem in de
+neighborhood didn't. Some say something about gitting 40 acres of land
+and a mule, but we never expected it. None ever got anything, not even
+money from de old marsters or anybody."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: John N. Davenport (N, 89), Newberry, S. C. RFD</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (11/3/37)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1886-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>June 8, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born, March 10, 1848, on Little River in Newberry county, S. C.
+My master in slavery time was Gilliam Davenport. He was good to his
+slaves, not strict; good to his cattle, and expected his negroes to be
+good to them. But he was quick to resent anything from outsiders who
+crossed his path.</p>
+
+<p>"All that part of the country was good for hunting. The deer, fox, and
+wild turkey have gone; though a few years ago, some men brought some
+foxes there and turned them loose, thinking they would breed, but they
+gradually disappeared. The kildees were many. That was a sign of good
+weather. When they flew high and around in a circle, it was a sign of
+high winds.</p>
+
+<p>"Fishing in the rivers was much done. They fished with hooks on old-time
+canes. They had fish baskets, made of wooden splits, with an opening at
+the end like the wire baskets now used. If they were set anytime, day or
+night, a few hours afterwards would be enough time to catch some fish.</p>
+
+<p>"An old sign was: when the youngest child sweeps up the floor, somebody
+was coming to see you. If a dish-rag was dropped on the floor, somebody
+was coming who would be hungry."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Moses Davenport (89), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (5/10/37)</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1886-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, July 28, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>CHARLIE DAVIS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 88 Years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I couldn' tell how old I is only as I ask my old Massa son en he tell
+me dat I was born ahead of him cause he had de day put down in he family
+book. I had one of dem slavery bible, but I have a burnin out so many
+times dat it done been burn up. I belong to Mr. George Crawford people.
+Mr. George de one what die up here one of dem other year not far back.
+Dey who been my white folks."</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you a good deal bout what de people do in slavery time en
+how dey live den, but I can' tell you nothin bout no jump about things.
+My Massa didn' 'low us to study bout none of dem kind of frolickings in
+dat day en time."</p>
+
+<p>"I gwine tell you it just like I experience it in dem days. We chillun
+lived well en had plenty good ration to eat all de time cause my mammy
+cook for she Missus dere to de big house. All she chillun lived in a one
+room house right dere in de white folks yard en eat in de Missus big
+kitchen every day. Dey give my mammy en she chillun just such things as
+de white folks had to eat like biscuit en cake en ham en coffee en
+hominy en butter en all dat kind of eatin. Didn' have no need to worry
+bout nothin 'tall. My Massa had a heap of other colored peoples dere
+besides we, but dey never live dat way. Dere been bout 80 of dem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> dat
+live up in de quarter just like you see dese people live to de sawmill
+dese days. Dey live mighty near like us, but didn' have no flour bread
+to eat en didn' get no milk en ham neither cause dey eat to dey own
+house. Didn' get nothin from de dairy but old clabber en dey been mighty
+thankful to get dat. Oh, dey had a pretty good house to live in dat was
+furnish wid dey own things dat dey make right dere. Den dey had a garden
+of dey own. My Massa give every one of he plantation family so much of
+land to plant for dey garden en den he give em every Saturday for dey
+time to tend dat garden. You see dey had to work for de white folks all
+de other week day en dey know when dey hear dat cow horn blow, dey had
+to do what de overseer say do. Never couldn' go off de place widout dey
+get a mit (permit) from de overseer neither else dey tore up when dey
+come back. No 'mam, didn' dare to have nothin no time. Didn' 'low you to
+go to school cause if you was to pick up a book, you get bout 100 lashes
+for dat. No 'mam, didn' have no church for de colored peoples in dem
+days. Just had some of dese big oaks pile up one on de other somewhe' in
+de woods on dat whe' we go to church. One of de plantation mens what had
+more learnin den de others was de one what do de preachin dere."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My Massa wasn' never noways scraggeble to he colored peoples. Didn' cut
+em for every kind of thing, but I is see him beat my stepfather one time
+cause he run away en stay in de woods long time. Oh, he beat him wid a
+switch or a stick or anything like dat he could get hold of."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn' never know nothin bout doing no hard work in us chillun days.
+When I was a boy, I mind de crows out de field. Oh, crows was terrible
+bout pickin up peoples corn in times back dere. You see if dey let de
+crows eat de corn up, dey had to go to de trouble of planting it all
+over again en dat how-come dey send we chillun in de field to mind de
+crows off it. We just holler after em en scare em dat way. Crows was
+mighty worser in dem days den dey is dis day en time."</p>
+
+<p>"I sho remembers when freedom was declare cause I was bout 16 year old
+den. When dem Yankees talk bout comin round, my Massa take all we
+colored boys en all he fast horses en put em back in de woods to de
+canebrake to hide em from de Yankees. It been many a year since den, but
+I recollects dat we was settin dere lookin for de Yankees to get as any
+minute. Wasn' obliged to make no noise neither. Oh, we had big chunk of
+lightwood en cook meat en hoecake en collards right dere in de woods.
+Den my Massa take one of dem oldest plantation boys to de war wid him en
+ain' nobody never hear tell of him no more. He name Willie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> O my Lord,
+when dey hear talk bout de Yankees comin, dey take all de pots en de
+kettles en hide em in holes in de fields en dey put dey silver bout some
+tree so dey know whe' dey bury it. Den dey hide de meat en de corn to de
+colored peoples house en when dey hear talk of de Yankees gwine away,
+dey go en get em again. Dem Yankees never destroy nothin bout dere, but
+dey is make my Massa give em a cart of corn en a middlin of meat.
+Yes'um, I look at dem Yankees wid me own eyes. Dey was all dressed up in
+a blue uniform en dey was just as white as you is. Oh, dey said a lot of
+things. Say dey was gwine free de niggers en if it hadn' been for dem,
+we would been slaves till yet. Coase I rather be free den a slave, but
+we never have so much worryations den as people have dese days. When we
+get out of clothes en get sick in dat day en time, we never had to do
+nothin but go to us Massa. Now, we have to look bout every which a way."</p>
+
+<p>"My Massa ask my mother was she gwine live with him any longer after
+freedom was declare en she say she never have no mind to leave dere. We
+live on dere for one year en den we studied to get another place. I
+believes heap of dem white folks died just on account of us get freed.
+Dey never didn' want us to be free."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I heard a 'oman say somebody had conjured her, but I don' believe in
+none of dat. I knows I got to die some of dese days en dat might come
+before me. I don' bother wid none of dat kind of thing, but I'll tell
+you bout what I has experience. I had two dogs dere en somebody poison
+em cause dey tell me somebody do dat. Oh, I know dey was poison. De
+police say de dog was poison. A 'oman do it dat had chillun what was
+afraid of my dog en dat how-come she poison it. I sho think she done it
+cause it just like dis, anything peoples tell me, I believes it."</p>
+
+<p>"I have seen dem things peoples say is a ghost when I was stayin here to
+Lake View. I plant a garden side de road en one night I hear somethin en
+I look out en dere was a great big black thing in me garden dat was
+makin right for de house. I call me wife en tell her to look yonder. De
+thing was comin right to de house en my wife hurry en light up de lamp.
+I hear de peoples say if you didn' light up de lamp when you see a
+spirit, dat it would sho come in en run you out. I had done paid some
+money on de place but after I see dat thing, I didn' have no mind to
+want it. Had de best garden en chickens dere I ever had, but I never
+bother no worry bout dat. Just pick right up en leave dere to come here
+en I been here ever since. I knows dat been somethin come dere to scare
+me out dat house. Dat ain' been nothin else but a spirit. Ain' been
+nothin else."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Charlie Davis, age 88, colored, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Personal interview, July 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Henry Grant</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Columbia, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>CHARLIE DAVIS'S MUSINGS.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Charlie Davis, now seventy-nine years old, was a small boy when the
+slaves were freed. He lives alone in one room on Miller's Alley,
+Columbia, S. C., and is healthy and physically capable of self-support.</p>
+
+<p>"I has been wonderin' what you wanted to talk to dis old nigger 'bout
+since I fust heard you wanted to see me. I takes it to be a honor for a
+white gentleman to desire to have a conversation wid me. Well, here I
+is, and I bet I's one of de blackest niggers you's seen for a season.
+Somehow, I ain't 'shame of my color a-tall. If I forgits I is dark
+complected, all I has to do is to look in a glass and in dere I sho'
+don't see no white man.</p>
+
+<p>"Boss, I is kinda glad I is a black man, 'cause you knows dere ain't
+much expected of them nowhow and dat, by itself, takes a big and heavy
+burden off deir shoulders. De white folks worries too much over dis and
+over dat. They worries 'cause they ain't got no money and, when they
+gits it, they worries agin 'cause they is 'fraid somebody is gwine to
+steal it from them. Yes, sir, they frets and fumes 'cause they can't
+'sociate wid big folks and, when they does go wid them, they is bothered
+'cause they ain't got what de big folks has got.</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't dat way wid most niggers. Nothin' disturbs them much, 'cept a
+empty stomach and a cold place to sleep in. Give them bread to eat and
+fire to warm by, then, hush your mouth; they is sho' safe then! De
+'possum in his hollow, de squirrel in his nest, and de rabbit in his
+bed, is at home. So, de nigger, in a tight house wid a big hot fire, in
+winter, is at home, too.</p>
+
+<p>"Some sort of ease and comfort is 'bout what all people, both white and
+black, is strivin' for in dis world. All of us laks dat somethin' called
+'tent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>ment, in one way or de other. Many white folks and some darkies
+thinks dat a pile of money, a fine house to live in, a 'spensive
+'motorbile, fine clothes, and high 'ciety, is gwine to give them dat.
+But, when they has all dis, they is still huntin' de end of de rainbow a
+little ahead of them.</p>
+
+<p>"Is de black man nervous or is he natchally scary? Well, sir, I is gwine
+to say yes and no to dat. A nigger gits nervous when he hears somethin'
+he don't understand and scared when he sees somethin' he can't make out.
+When he gits sho' 'nough scared, he moves right then, not tomorrow. Lak
+de wild animals of de woods, he ain't 'fraid of de dark, much, if he is
+movin' 'bout, but when he stops, no house is too tight for him, in
+summer or winter. If he sees a strange and curious sight at night, he
+don't have to ask nobody what to do, 'cause he knows dat he has foots.
+It is good-bye wid old clothes, bushes, and fences, when them foots gits
+to 'tendin' to deir business. When you hears a funny and strange noise
+and sees a curious and bad sight, I b'lieves you fust git nervous and
+then dat feelin' grows stronger fas', 'til you git scared. I knows de
+faster I moves, de slower I gits scared.</p>
+
+<p>"From my age now, you can tell dat I was mighty little in slavery time.
+All I knows 'bout them terrible times is what I has heard. I come pretty
+close to them ticklish times, but I can't help from thinkin', even now,
+dat I missed a 'sperience in slavery time dat would be doin' me good to
+dis very day. Dere ain't no doubt dat many a slave learnt good lessons
+dat showed them how to work and stay out of de jail or poorhouse, dat's
+worth a little.</p>
+
+<p>"I has heard my mammy say dat she b'long to de Wyricks dat has a big
+plantation in de northwestern part of Fairfield County and dat my daddy
+b'long to de Graddicks in de northern part of Richland County. Dese two
+plantations was just across de road from each other. Mammy said dat de
+patrollers was as thick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> as flies 'round dese plantations all de time,
+and my daddy sho' had to slip 'round to see mammy. Sometime they would
+ketch him and whip him good, pass or no pass.</p>
+
+<p>"De patrollers was nothin' but poor white trash, mammy say, and if they
+didn't whip some slaves, every now and then, they would lose deir jobs.
+My mammy and daddy got married after freedom, 'cause they didn't git de
+time for a weddin' befo'. They called deirselves man and wife a long
+time befo' they was really married, and dat is de reason dat I's as old
+as I is now. I reckon they was right, in de fust place, 'cause they
+never did want nobody else 'cept each other, nohow. Here I is, I has
+been married one time and at no time has I ever seen another woman I
+wanted. My wife has been dead a long time and I is still livin' alone.
+All our chillun is scattered 'bout over de world somewhere, and dat
+somewhere is where I don't know. They ain't no help to me now, in my old
+age. But, I reckon they ain't to be blamed much, 'cause they is young,
+full of warm blood and thinks in a different way from de older ones.
+Then, too, I 'spects they thinks deir old daddy would kinda be in deir
+way, and de best thing for them to do is to stay away from me. I don't
+know, it just seems lak de way of de world.</p>
+
+<p>"I come from de Guinea family of niggers, and dat is de reason I is so
+small and black. De Guinea nigger don't know nothin', 'cept hard work,
+and, for him to be so he can keep up wid bigger folks, he has to turn
+'round fas'. You knows dat if you puts a little hog in a pen wid big
+hogs, de little one has got to move 'bout in a hurry amongst de big
+ones, to git 'nough to eat, and de same way wid a little person, they
+sho' has to hustle for what they gits. I has no head for learnin' what's
+in books, and if I had, dere wasn't no schools for to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> learn dat head,
+when I come 'long. I has made some money, 'long through de years, but
+never knowed how to save it. Now I is so old dat I can't make much, and
+so, I just live somehow, dat's all.</p>
+
+<p>"President Roosevelt has done his best to help de old, poor, and
+forgotten ones of us all, every color and race, while dis 'pression has
+been gwine on in dis country. Is us gwine to git dis new pension what is
+gwine 'bout, or is dat other somebody gwine to think he needs it worser
+than us does? Dat's de question what 'sorbs my mind most, dese days. I
+don't need much, and maybe I don't deserve nothin', but I sho' would lak
+to git hold of dat little dat's 'tended for me by dat man up yonder in
+Washington. (Roosevelt)</p>
+
+<p>"Does I b'lieve in spirits and hants? My answer to dat question is dis:
+'Must my tremblin' spirit fly into a world unknown?' When a person goes
+'way from dis world, dere they is, and dere they is gwine to stay, 'til
+judgment."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, January 21, 1938</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>HEDDIE DAVIS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 72 Years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Lizzie Davis sends word for Heddie Davis to come over to her little
+shack to join in the conversation about old times and Heddie enters the
+room with these words: "Sis, I gwine hug your neck. Sis, I did somethin
+last night dat I oughtn't done en I can' hardly walk dis mornin. Pulled
+off my long drawers last night en never had none to change wid. I can'
+bear to get down en pray or nothin like dat, my knee does ache me so
+bad. I gwine up town yonder en get some oil of wintergreen en put on it.
+Yes'um, dat sho a good thing to strike de pain cause I heard bout dat
+long years ago. Sis, ain' you got no coffee nowhe' dis mornin? God
+knows, de Lord sho gwine bless you, Sis."</p>
+
+<p>"What honey? No'um, I won' here in slavery time. I was just tereckly
+after it. Well, I come here a Lewis, but I inherited de Davis name when
+I married. Old man Peter Lewis was my daddy, en my mother&mdash;she was a
+North Carolina woman. Oh, I heard dat man talk bout de old time war so
+much dat I been know what was gwine fly out his mouth time he been have
+a mind to spit it out. My daddy, he belonged to de old man Evans Lewis
+en he been de one his boss pick to carry to de war wid him. Yes'um, he
+stayed up dere to Fort Sumter four years a fightin en hoped shoot dem
+old Yankee robbers. My old man, he had one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> of dem old guns en I give it
+to his brother Jimmie. He lives way up yonder to de north en he carried
+dat gun wid him just cause I give it to him, he say. He marry my younger
+sister en she grayer den I is. Think dey say dey lives to Rockingham,
+North Carolina. Yes, honey, my daddy was sho in dat wash out dere to
+Fort Sumter. Lord, have mercy, I never hear tell of crabs en shrimps in
+all my life till my daddy come back en tell bout a old woman would be
+gwine down de street, dere to Charleston, cryin, 'Shrimps, more
+shrimps.' But, my Lord, I can' half remember nothin dese days. If I had
+de sense I used to have, I would give de Lord de praise. Honey, he said
+a lot of stuff bout de war. Told a whole chance of somethin. Tell us
+bout de parade en everything, but I is forgetful now en I just can'
+think. De Bible say dat in de course of your life, you will be forgetful
+in dat how I is. Just can' think like I used to. You see, I gwine in 70
+now.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I was born dere to Mullins in January on de old man Evans Lewis'
+plantation. Den we moved dere to de Mark Smith place after freedom
+settle here. Dat long high man, dat who been us boss. His wife was name
+Sallie en de place was chock full of hands. No, mam, my white folks
+didn' care bout no quarter on dey plantation. Colored people just
+throwed 'bout all over de place. Oh, I tell you, it was a time cause de
+niggers was dere, plenty of dem. Some of dey house was settin side de
+road, some over in dat corner, some next de big house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> en so on like dat
+all over de place. Oh, dey lived all right, I reckon. Never didn' hear
+dem say dey got back none. Hear dey live den better den de people lives
+now. Oh, yes'um, I hear my parents say de white folks was good to de
+colored people in slavery time. Didn' hear tell of nobody gettin nothin
+back on one another neither. No, child, didn' never hear tell of nothin
+like dat. Seems like de people don' work dese days like dey used to
+nohow. Well, dey done somethin of everything in dat day en time en work
+bout all de time. Ain' nobody workin much to speak bout dese days cause
+dey walks bout too much, I say. I tell you, when I been a child gwine to
+school, soon as I been get home in de evenin en hit dat door-step, I had
+to strip en put on my everyday clothes en get to work. Had to pick up
+wood en potatoes in de fall or pick cotton. Had to do somethin another
+all de time, but never didn' nobody be obliged to break dey neck en
+hurry en get done in dem days. Chillun just rushes en plays too much
+dese days, I say. No, Lord, I don' want to rush no time. I tellin you,
+when I starts to Heaven, I want to take my time gettin dere.</p>
+
+<p>"Lord, child, I sho hope I gwine to Heaven some of dese days cause old
+Satan been ridin me so tough in dis here world, I ain' see no rest since
+I been know bout I had two feet. My husband, he treat me so mean, if he
+ain' in Heaven, he in de other place, I say. Den all dem chillun, Lord a
+mercy, dey will kill you. I raised all mine by myself en I tell you,
+dey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> took de grease out of me.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy, he was a prayin man. Lord knows, he was a prayin man. Seems
+like de old people could beat de young folks a prayin up a stump any
+day. I remember, my daddy come here to de white people church to
+Tabernacle one night en time dem people see him, dey say, 'Uncle Peter,
+de Lord sho send you cause ain' nobody but you can pray dese sinners out
+of hell here tonight.' God knows dat man could sing en pray. Lord, he
+could pray. Oh, darlin child, dat man prayed bout all de time. Prayed
+every mornin en every night en when us would come out de field at 12
+o'clock, us had to hear him pray fore he ever did allow us to eat near a
+morsel. Sis, I remember one day, when dey first started we chillun a
+workin in de field, I come to de house 12 o'clock en I was so hungry, I
+was just a poppin. God knows, people don' serve de Lord like dey used
+to."</p>
+
+<p>"Sis, you wants dat one patch, too. Lord Jesus, dere ain' no limit to
+dis one. Sis, I must be come here on Saturday cause everywhe' I goes, I
+has to work. Hear talk, if you born on a Saturday, you gwine have to
+work hard for what you get all your days. I been doin somethin ever
+since I been big enough to know I somebody. Remember de first thing I
+ever do for a white woman. Ma come home en say, 'Heddie, get up in de
+mornin en wash your face en hands en go up to Miss Rogers en do
+everything just like she say do.' I been know I had to do dat, too,
+cause if I never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> do it, I know I would been whip from cane to cane.
+When I got dere, I open de gate en look up en dere been de new house en
+dere been de old one settin over dere what dey been usin for de kitchen
+den. I won' thinkin bout nothin 'cept what Miss Rogers was gwine say en
+when I been walk in dat gate, dere a big bulldog flew up in my head. I
+stop en look at him en dat dog jump en knock me windin en grabbed my
+foot in his mouth. Yes'um, de sign dere yet whe' he gnawed me. White
+folks tell me I been do wrong. Say, don' never pay no attention to a dog
+en dey won' bother up wid you. But, honey, dat dog had a blue eye en a
+pink eye. Ain' never see a dog in such a fix since I been born. I tell
+you, if you is crooked, white folks will sho straighten you out. Dat dog
+taught me all I is ever wanted to know. Lord, Miss Mary, I been love dat
+woman. De first time I ever see her, she say, 'You ain' got no dress to
+wear to Sunday School, I gwine give you one.' Yes, mam, Miss Mary dress
+me up en de Lord knows, I ain' never quit givin her de praise yet.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'um, de Yankees, I hear my daddy talk bout when dey come through old
+Massa's plantation en everything what dey do. Say, dere was a old woman
+dat was de cook to de big house en when dem Yankees come dere dat
+mornin, white folks had her down side de cider press just a whippin her.
+Say, de Yankees took de old woman en dressed her up en hitched up a
+buggy en made her set up in dere. Wouldn' let de white folks touch her
+no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> more neither. Oh, de place was just took wid dem, he say. What dey
+never destroy, dey carried off wid dem. Oh, Lord a mercy, hear talk dere
+was a swarm of dem en while some of dem was in de house a tearin up,
+dere was a lot of dem in de stables takin de horses out. Yes'um, some
+was doin one thing en some another. En Pa tell bout dey had de most
+sense he ever did see. Hitched up a cart en kept de path right straight
+down in de woods en carted de corn up what de white folks been hide down
+dere in de canebrake. Den some went in de garden en dug up a whole lot
+of dresses en clothes. En dere was a lady in de house sick while all dis
+was gwine on. Oh, dey was de worst people dere ever was, Pa say. Took
+all de hams en shoulders out de smokehouse en like I tell you, what dey
+never carried off, dey made a scaffold en burned it up. Lord, have
+mercy, I hopes I ain' gwine never have to meet no Yankees."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Heddie Davis, colored, age 72, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Jan., 1938.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>HENRY DAVIS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 80 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Henry Davis is an old Negro, a bright mulatto, who lives in a two-room
+frame house on the farm of Mr. Amos E. Davis, about two miles southwest
+of Winnsboro, S. C.</p>
+
+<p>In the house with him, are his wife, Rosa, and his grown children,
+Roosevelt, Utopia, and Rose. They are day laborers on the farm. At this
+period, Henry picks about seventy-five pounds of cotton a day. His
+children average one hundred and fifty pounds each. The four together
+are thus enabled to gather about five hundred and twenty-five pounds per
+day, at the rate of sixty-five cents per hundred. This brings to the
+family, a daily support of $3.41. This is seasonal employment, however;
+and, as they are not a provident household, hard times come to Henry and
+his folks in the winter and early summer.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born on de old Richard Winn plantation dat my master, Dr. W. K.
+Turner, owned and lived on. I was born de year befo' him marry Miss
+Lizzie Lemmon, my mistress in slavery time.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother was name Mary and took de name of Davis, 'cause befo' freedom
+come, her was bought by my master, from Dr. Davis, near Monticello.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a good many marsters and mistresses. Miss Minnie marry Dr.
+Scruggs. Miss Anna marry Mr. Dove. Miss Emma marry Mr. Jason Pope. Marse
+Willie K. marry a Miss Carroll up in York, S. C., and Marse Johnnie
+marry Miss Essie Zealy. My brothers and sisters was Minton, Ike, Martha,
+and Isabella.</p>
+
+<p>"Who I marry and all 'bout it? How come you want to know dat? I 'clare!
+You think dat gwine to loosen me up? Well, I marry de 'Rose of Sharon'
+or I calls her dat when I was sparkin' her, though she was a Lemmon. Her
+was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> name Rose Lemmon. Lots of times she throw dat in my face, 'Rose of
+Sharon' when things go wrong. Then her git uppish and sniff, 'Rose of
+Sharon, my eye! You treats me lak I was a dogwood rose on de hillside or
+worse than dat, lak I was a Jimson weed or a rag weed.'</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy and us chillun live in de yard not far from de kitchen. My
+mammy do de washin' and ironin'. Us chillun did no work. I ride 'round
+most of de time wid de doctor in his buggy and hold de hoss while he
+visit de patients. Just set up in de buggy and wait 'til him git ready
+to go to another place or go home.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'member de Yankees comin' and searchin' de house, takin' off de cows,
+mules, hosses, and burnin' de gin-house and cotton. They say dat was
+General Sherman's orders. They was 'lowed to leave de dwellin' house
+standin', in case of a doctor or preacher.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Lizzie had a whole lot of chickens. Her always keep de finest
+pullets. She make pies and chicken salad out of de oldest hens. Dat
+February de Yankees got here, she done save up 'bout fifty pullets dat
+was ready to lay in March. A squad of Yankees make us chillun ketch
+every one and you know how they went 'way wid them pullets? They tie two
+on behind, in de rings of de saddle. Then they tie two pullets together
+and hang them on de saddle pommel, one on each side of de hosses neck.
+Dat throw them flankin' de hosses withers. I 'members now them gallopin'
+off, wid them chickens flutterin' and hollerin' whare, whare, whare,
+whare, whare!</p>
+
+<p>"After slavery time, us live on de Turner place nigh onto thirty years
+and then was de time I go to see Rosa and court and marry her. Her folks
+b'long to de Lemmons and they had stayed on at de Lemmon's place. De
+white folks of both plantations 'courage us to have a big weddin'. Her
+white folks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> give her a trousseau and mine give me a bedstead, cotton
+mattress, and two feather pillows. Dat was a mighty happy day and a
+mighty happy night for de 'Rose of Sharon'. Her tells young niggers
+'bout it to dis day, and I just sets and smokes my pipe and thinks of
+all de days dat am passed and gone and wonder if de nex' world gwine to
+bring us back to youth and strength to 'joy it, as us did when Rose and
+me was young.</p>
+
+<p>"Does I 'members anything 'bout patrollers? 'Deed, I do! Marster didn't
+'ject to his slaves gwine to see women off de place. I hear him say so,
+and I hear him tell more than once dat if he ever hear de patrollers a
+comin' wid blood hounds, to run to de lot and stick his foots in de mud
+and de dogs wouldn't follow him. Lots of run'ways tried it, I heard, and
+it proved a success and I don't blame them dogs neither."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1655</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>JESSE DAVIS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 85 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Jesse Davis, one of the fast disappearing landmarks of slavery times,
+lives with his wife and son, in one of the ordinary two-room frame
+houses that dot, with painful monotony, the country farms of white
+landowners. The three attempt to carry on a one-horse farm of forty
+acres, about thirty acres in cotton and the remainder in corn. The
+standard of living is low. Jesse is cheerful, his wife optimistic with
+the expression that the Lord will provide, and their son dutiful and
+hopeful of the harvest. Their home is about ten miles southwest of
+Winnsboro, in the Horeb section of Fairfield County.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere is some difficulty 'bout my age. Nigh as I can place it, I was
+born befo' de Civil War. I 'members 'tendin' to and milkin' de cows, and
+keepin' de calf off, drawin' water out de well, and bringin' in wood to
+make fires. I 'spects I's eighty-five, mountin' up in years.</p>
+
+<p>"I lives on Mr. Eber Mason's place wid one of my chillun, a son name
+Mingo. Us all work on de place; run a farm on shares. I can't do much
+work and can't support myself. It's mighty hard to be 'pendent on others
+for your daily rations, even if them others is your own bone and flesh.
+I'd 'preciate sumpin' to help my son and wife carry on. Dats why I wants
+a pension. Do you 'spect God in His mercy will hear de prayer of dis
+feeble old believer? I don't beg people but de Bible give me a right to
+beg God for my daily bread. De Good Book say: 'Take no consarnment 'bout
+your raiment'. You can see from what I's got on, dat me nor nobody else,
+is much consarned 'bout dis raiment.</p>
+
+<p>"My mammy b'long to de Smiths. My master was Dr. Ira Smith. My mistress
+was him wife, Miss Sarah. Deir chillun was: Marse Gad, Marse Jim,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> and
+Marse Billie. Marse Jim was de baker of dis town all his life, after de
+way of old-time oven-cookin', 'til Boy bread and Claussen bread wagons
+run him out of business. Him is now on de 'lief roll and livin' in de
+old McCreight house, de oldest house in Winnsboro.</p>
+
+<p>"Dere was my young misses, Miss Lizzie and Miss Lennie. My mammy name
+Sarah, just lak old mistress name Sarah. Her b'long to marster and
+mistress but my pappy no b'long to them. Him b'long to de big bugs, de
+Davis family. Him was name Mingo, and after slavery him and all us take
+de name, de secon' name, Davis, and I's here today, Jesse Davis. See how
+dat work out to de name? Good Book again say: 'Good name better than
+riches; sweeter to de ear than honey-comb to de tongue.'</p>
+
+<p>"You is well 'quainted wid Marse Amos Davis, ain't you? Well, his people
+was pappy's people. I had a brudder name Gabriel, tho' they called him
+Gabe. Another one name Chap; he got kilt while clearin' up a new ground.
+Sister Fannie marry a Ashford nigger. Marse Ira, de doctor, have a
+plantation near Jenkinsville, S. C.</p>
+
+<p>"When de Yankees come thru, they come befo' de main army. They gallop
+right up, jump down and say: 'Hold dese hosses! Open dat smoke-house
+door!' They took what they could carry 'way. 'Bout dat time marster rode
+up from a sick call him been 'tendin' to. Course you know him was a
+doctor. They surround him, take his watch, money, and hoss, and ride
+'way.</p>
+
+<p>"De main army come nex' day, Saturday mornin' 'bout 8 o'clock. They
+spread deir tents and stay and camp 'til Monday mornin'. When they leave
+they carry off all de cows, hogs, mules, and hosses. Then they have us
+ketch de chickens, got them all, 'cept one old hen dat run under de
+house, and they didn't wait to git her. Marster have to go 'way up to
+Union County, where him have kin folks, to git sumpin' to eat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My marster was not big rich lak de Davises, de Means, and de Harpers,
+but him have all them people come to see him. Him know a heap of things
+dat they 'preciate. De way to dye cloth was one of dese secrets. Marster
+have a madder bed. Him take de roots of dat madder put them in de sun
+just lak you put out pieces of apples and peaches to make dried fruit.
+When them roots git right dry, him have them ground up fine as
+water-ground meal. He put de fine dust in a pot and boil it. When he
+want red cloth, he just drop de cloth in dat pot and it come out all red
+to suit you. Want it blue, him have a indigo patch for dat.</p>
+
+<p>"I never hear anything 'bout alum dese days. Well, de slaves could take
+peach tree leaves and alum and make yellow cloth and old cedar tops and
+copperas and make tan cloth. Walnut stain and copperas and make any
+cloth brown. Sweet-gum bark and copperas and make any cloth a purple
+color. I 'member goin' wid one into de woods to git barks. One day old
+marster come 'cross a slippery elm tree. Him turn and command me to say
+right fast: 'Long, slim, slick saplin' and when I say long, slim, sick
+slaplin', him 'most kill hisself laughin'. You try dat now! You find it
+more harder to say than you think it is. Him give me a piece of dat bark
+to chew and I run at de mouth lak you see a hoss dat been on de range of
+wild clover all night and slobberin' at da bits.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sah, I b'longs to de church! My wife and son, Mingo, just us three
+in de house and de whole household jined de Morris Creek Baptist Church.
+What's my favorite song? None better than de one dat I'll h'ist right
+now. Go ahead? I thanks you. Listen:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Am I born to die</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To lay dis body down</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A charge to keep I have</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A God to glorify.'</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You lak dat? Yes? You is praisin' me too highly I 'spect, but since you
+lak dat one just listen at dis one; maybe you change your mind, 'cause
+I's gwine to h'ist it a wee bit higher and put more of de spiritual in
+it. Ready? Yes? I stand up dis time.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'All de medicine you may buy</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All de doctors you may try</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ain't gonna save you from de tomb</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Some day you got to lay down and die.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">De blood of de Son can only</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Save you from de doom!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Some day you got to lay down and die.'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"You lak dat one? You just ought to hear my wife, Mingo, and Me, singin'
+dat 'round de fire befo' us go to bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll toddle 'long now. Good-bye."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, February 4, 1938</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>LIZZIE'S 'SPONSIBILITY</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>I.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>The first scene of "Lizzie's 'Sponsibility" is that of the small, one
+room dwelling place of Lizzie Davis, aged colored woman of Marion, S. C.
+A disorderly, ill-lighted, crudely furnished room, saturated with the
+odor of food. Behind the front door stands a gayly colored iron bed,
+over which is thrown a piece of oilcloth to keep the rain from leaking
+on it. In the center of the room are several little quaint home-made
+stools and two broken rockers, while in one corner sits a roughly
+finished kitchen table, the dumping place of all small articles. Still
+in another corner, almost hidden from sight in the darkness, is the dim
+outline of an old trunk gaping open with worn out clothing, possibly the
+gift of some white person. A big fireplace in one side of the wall not
+only furnishes heat for the little room, but also serves as a cooking
+place for Lizzie to prepare her meals. On its hearth sits a large iron
+kettle, spider, and griddle, relics of an earlier day. The room is dimly
+lighted by the fire and from two small doors, together with a few tiny
+streaks that peep through at various cracks in the walls and top of
+house.</p>
+
+<p>It is about 9 o'clock on a cold, drizzly morning in January, 1938. The
+little two room house, in which Lizzie rents one room for herself,
+displays an appearance of extreme coldness and dilapidation, as a
+visitor approaches the doorway on this par<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>ticular morning. It is with
+somewhat of an effort that the visitor finally reaches the barred door
+of Lizzie's room, after making a skip here and there to keep from
+falling through the broken places in the little porch and at the same
+time trying to dodge the continual dripping of the rain through numerous
+crevices in the porch roof. Within is the sound of little feet scuffling
+about on the floor, the chatter of tiny children mixed with mumblings
+from Lizzie, and the noise of chairs and stools being roughly shoved
+about on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>A rap on the door brings Lizzie, crippled up since she was twelve years
+of age, hobbling to the door. Taking her walking stick, she lifts the
+latch gently and the door opens slightly. A gray head appears through
+the crack of the door and Lizzie, peeping out from above her tiny rim
+spectacles, immediately recognizes her visitor. She offers her usual
+cheerful greeting and begins hastily to push the large wooden tubs from
+the door to make room for her visitor to enter, though it is with
+unusual hesitancy that she invites her guest to come in on this
+occasion.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Come in, Miss Davis. I feelin right smart dis mornin. How you
+been keepin yourself? Miss Davis, I regrets you have to find things so
+nasty up in here dis mornin, but all dis rainy weather got me obliged to
+keep dese old tubs settin all bout de floor here to try en catch up de
+water what drips through dem holes up dere. See, you twist your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> head up
+dat way en you can tell daylight through all dem cracks. Dat how I know
+when it bright enough to start to stir myself on a mornin.</p>
+
+<p>Yes'um, I tell Miss Heddie here de other day dat I had promise you I was
+gwine study up some of dem old time songs to give you de next time you
+come back. Miss Heddie, she lookin to a right sharp age, I say. Yes'um,
+she been here a time, honey. I tell her to be gettin her dogs together
+cause I was sho gwine point her out to you de next time I see you.</p>
+
+<p>I tell you, Miss Davis, I got a 'sponsibility put on me here to look
+after all dese chillun. Yes'um, it sho a 'sponsibility cause I think
+dere five of dem dere, en it de truth in de Lord sight, dey has me
+settin up so straight to keep a eye on dem dat I can' never settle my
+mind on nothin. Dey won' let me keep nothin clean. Ain' no use to scrub
+none, I say. You see, cripple up like I is, I ain' able to get no work
+off nowhe' en I keeps dem while dey parents work out. Dey mammas have a
+job to cook out en dey brings dem here bout 6 o'clock in de mornin for
+me to see after till dey get home in de afternoon. Cose dey helps me
+along, but it takes what little dey give me to keep dem chillun warm
+cause I has to try en keep a fire gwine, dey be so little. Dere Bertha
+Lee en Joseph, dey start gwine to school dis year en I has to see dey
+gets fix decent en march dem off to school every mornin. Dem other three
+dere, dey name: Possum en June en Alfred. Ain' but just one girl en
+dat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>(Lizzie's attention turns to June, who comes in crying from the back
+yard, where all the children went to play during Lizzie's conversation
+with her visitor).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;What de matter wid you, June?</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Aun' Izzie, Possum knock me wid de ax.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Great King! What a peculiar thing to hit you wid. How-come he to
+do dat?</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;He was bustin up dem stick out dere side de wood pile.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Oh, well, you just go en butt up on de ax. Dat ain' no fault of
+he own den. Clean up dat face en gwine on way from here.</p>
+
+<p>(June, crying to himself, remains seated on the little stool).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Let me see now, Miss Davis, I tryin to get some of dem old time
+songs together to turn for you what you been axin me bout de other time
+you come here. Yes'um, I tryin to blow my dogs&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>(Possum enters the room).</p>
+
+<p>Possum&mdash;Aun' Izzie, I was bustin up dem splinters dat my daddy brung for
+you to cook wid en June come en set right under de ax.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Um-huh, ain' I tell you so? Whe' de ax, Possum? Fetch it here en
+put it in de corner. Ain' none of you had no business wid dat ax nohow.
+Ain' I tell you to mind your way round dat ax?</p>
+
+<p>(Possum runs back out in the yard).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Like I tellin you, Miss Davis, if de people had a song in de old
+days, dey would put it down on a long strip called a ballad, but honey,
+I been through de hackles en I can' think of nothin like I used to
+could. Is anybody sing dis one for you, Miss Davis? It a old one, too,
+cause I used to hear&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>(Alfred comes in to tell his tale).</p>
+
+<p>Alfred&mdash;Aun' Izzie, June set on Possum's pile of splinters dat he was
+makin en Possum let de ax fall right on June's head.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Dey is cases, Miss Davis. I tellin you, dese chillun just gets
+everything off my mind. Most makes me forget to eat sometimes. Dere Miss
+Julia Woodberry, poor creature, she been down mighty sick en I ain' been
+able to go en see bout her no time. Don' know what ailin her cause I
+don' gets bout nowhe' much. No, mam, dese chillun don' have no manners
+to go visitin en I can' left dem here widout nobody to mind bout dat dey
+don' run&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Joseph&mdash;Aun' Izzie, I ain' gwine wear no coat to school dis mornin.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Boy, is you crazy? What de matter wid you, ain' you know de
+ground been white wid Jack Frost dis mornin? En you clean up dat nose
+fore you get dere to school, too. You ain' say your ma send you here
+widout no pocket rag to wipe your nose wid? You ma, she know better den
+to 'spect me to hunt rags for you. Come here en let me fasten up dat
+coat round de neck. You look like a turkey buzzard wid it gapin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> open
+dat way. Whe' Bertha Lee? It time both you been in dat road gwine to
+school dere.</p>
+
+<p>(Bertha Lee and Joseph go out the door to leave for school).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Lord a mercy, Miss Davis, my mind just a windin. How dat song
+turn what I had for you?</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">One for Paul,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En one for Sidas&mdash;</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Joseph, how-come you ain' tell dese chillun good-bye?</p>
+
+<p>Joseph&mdash;Good-bye Possum, good-bye June, good-bye Alfred.</p>
+
+<p>Possum, June, Alfred&mdash;Good-bye Joseph.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Is you got dat one now, Miss Davis? What de next? Great
+Jeruselum! Dem chillun done carry dat tune way wid dem. I can' turn dat
+one to save my neck. Just can' come to de turn table as de old man would
+say. (12 o'clock mill whistle blows, time teller for many colored people
+of the community). Lord a mercy, what dat whistle say? It done come 12
+o'clock en dat pot ain' thought bout to kick up none yet. I tell you,
+honey, it sho a 'sponsibility I got put on me here to cook for all dese
+chillun en see dey ration is cook mighty done, too, so as dey won' be
+gwine round gruntin wid dey belly hurtin all de evenin.</p>
+
+<p>(Lizzie begins to stir up the fire to make the pot boil and her visitor
+decides to return later to hear the songs).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Date, February 7, 1938</span><br /><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>II</b></span></p>
+
+<p>It is a damp, chilly mornin about three weeks later, when Lizzie's
+visitor returns to hear her sing old time songs. June, Bertha Lee, and
+Alfred are playing in the street before the little house.</p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;Is Aun' Lizzie at home?</p>
+
+<p>June, Alfred, Bertha Lee&mdash;Yes'um, she in dere. She in de house.</p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;You children better mind how you run about in all this damp
+weather, it might make you sick.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Possum's got de chicken pox.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred&mdash;Possum's got de chicken pox.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Me sick, too.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;I got a cold.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred&mdash;I sick, too.</p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;Poor little Possum. Is he sick much?</p>
+
+<p>Alfred&mdash;Yes'um, he stay right in dat room dere. (Room next to Lizzie's
+room with a separate front door).</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;He mamma had de chicken pox first en den Possum, he took
+down wid it.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Dere he now! Dere Possum! (Possum appears from around the corner
+of the house with both hands full of cold fish).</p>
+
+<p>(Alfred goes to Lizzie's door to tell her that she has a visitor)</p>
+
+<p>Alfred&mdash;Aun' Izzie, somebody out dere wanna see you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Holy Moses! Who dat out dere? Boy, you ain' tellin me no story,
+is you? Mind you now, you tell me a story en I'll whip de grease out
+you.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Aun' Izzie, ain' nobody but Miss Davis out dere.</p>
+
+<p>(Lizzie hobbles to the door on her stick).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;How you is, Miss Davis? I ain' much to speak bout dis mornin. I
+tell you de truth, Miss Davis, dese chillun keeps me so worried up dat I
+don' know whe' half my knowin gone, I say. Great Lord a mercy, dere
+Possum out dere in de air now en he been puny, too.</p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;The children tell me Possum has the chicken pox.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;No'um, he ain' got no chicken pox, Miss Davis. Dey thought he
+had it cause he mamma been ailin dat way, but I don' see nothin de
+matter wid him 'cept what wrong wid he mouth. Possum, stand back dere
+way from Miss Davis, I say. Yes'um, he been sorta puny like dis here
+last week. He mamma must been feed him too much en broke he mouth out
+dat&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Miss Davis, I know how to spell my name.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;I know how to spell my name, too. Me likes to go to school.</p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;Oh, I think it is nice to like to go to school. What do you do
+at school?</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Pull off your hat.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Us writes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;Lizzie, how about those old time songs you promised to study up
+for me? You ought to have a mind running over with them by this time.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Lord, Lord, honey, I had study up a heap of dem old tunes here
+de other day, but I tellin you de truth, Miss Davis, dese chillun got me
+so crazy till nothin won stick&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>(Willie, age 10, comes over to play with the children and begins to
+whistle.).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Willie, ain' you know it ill manners to whistle in anybody
+house? Dere now, it impolite to walk by anybody house whistlin, too. You
+is too big a boy for dat. Ain' gwine stand for you learnin dese chillun
+no such manners for me to beat it out dem. No, boy, mind yourself way
+from here now, I got to hunt up dat tune for Miss Davis. Yes'um, I got
+one of dem old tune poppin now. Let me see&mdash;Great Happy! Dat pot done
+gwine out all my sparks. (Lizzie rushes in the house to look after a pot
+that she hears boilin over on the fire).</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Bertha Lee, de lady don' know whe' us sleeps, do she?</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Dere us house over dere.</p>
+
+<p>(Bertha Lee gets up to point the house out and June immediately slides
+into her seat on the bench next to the visitor).</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Move way, June.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;No, dis place whe' I been.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;June, go further, I say.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;No, Bertha Lee, dis whe' I been.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;No, go further. (June holds his place) I go tell Aun' Izzie
+den.</p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;Tell Lizzie I'm waitin to hear that tune she promised to sing.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Aun' Izzie, June settin in my place.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Fetch yourself on back out dere now, Bertha Lee, en settle your
+own scrap. Ain' you shame of yourself en you bigger den June, too? Go
+way from here, I say. I ain' got no time to monkey up wid you. I got to
+get dese collards boilin hard, else dey ain' gwine get done time you
+chillun start puffin for your dinner. Go way, I tell you. Miss Davis, I
+comin toreckly.</p>
+
+<p>(Bertha Lee returns to the porch quietly and takes her place on the
+opposite side of the visitor, while June clings to his place).</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Miss Davis, does you know Mr. Rembert?</p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;Is he your father?</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee and June&mdash;No, he ain' us daddy.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Mr. Rembert, he bought me everything I got. He shoe horses. Don'
+you know him now?</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;He bought June's sweater, but dem my overalls he got on.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Dem dere pretty buttons you got on you, Miss Davis.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Sho is, en dem little chain dere.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Me got a sweater just like her coat.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Ain' just like it.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;It most like it.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;No, it ain' cause dis here wool.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>(Lizzie returns to the porch and sits on a little stool near her door).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Lord, Miss Davis, dat tune done left me. Now, de next time dat I
+get a tune in my mind. I gwine sho get somebody to place it for me. It
+de Lord truth, my mind gwine just so wid so much of chillun worryations
+till&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Me can sing.</p>
+
+<p>Possum&mdash;Aun' Izzie, I ain' got nothin to eat.</p>
+
+<p>(Lizzie returns to her room again to stir up the fire and get Possum
+some bread).</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Sing den, June.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Un-uh, I can'. Aun' Izzie might hear me.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;I gwine sing den.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"I sees de lighthouse&mdash;amen,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I sees de lighthouse&mdash;amen,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I sees de lighthouse&mdash;amen."</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>(Lizzie and Possum return to porch. Possum has three muffins).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Clean up your nose dere, Alfred. Miss Davis, I ready. Sho got a
+mind to turn dat tune dis&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Alfred&mdash;Possum wouldn' fetch me no bread, Aun' Izzie.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Dere dey go again, Miss Davis. No, you can' have none of
+Possum's bread. Gwine on in dere en catch you a piece out your own pan.
+You eat up Possum's bread en den he'll be de one howlin bout he ain' got
+none.</p>
+
+<p>(Alfred goes in the room and comes back with a biscuit).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;I pretty certain I ready now, Miss Davis. Let dem all get dey
+belly full en den dey head won' be turnin so sharp. Dat how-come I
+tries&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Possum&mdash;Aun' Izzie, Alfred eatin June's bread.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Alfred, look here, boy, you know dat ain' none of your bread.
+You sho gwine get a lickin for dat. (Lizzie slaps him). Your ma, she
+ain' never left nothin but corn hoecake in your pan since you been born
+en you know dat, too. Dem chillun carries me in de clock sometimes, Miss
+Davis. Dis one en dat one callin me en de Lord help me, I forgets what I
+doin&mdash;Clean up dat nose dere, boy.</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;My nose clean.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Possum know I talkin to him. Get on in dere en tell Miss Mammie
+to give you a pocket rag, Possum. (Miss Mammie is Possum's aunt who came
+to spend the day with them).</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Peter Rabbit, Ha! Ha! Ha!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Make Your Ears Go, Flop! Flop! Flop!"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;I has to ax you to bear wid me, Miss Davis. I sorry you come
+here on a dead shot en ain' gettin no birds. Lord knows, I tryin to get
+my mind&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Oo, Aun' Izzie, Joseph been cuttin out Willie's book.</p>
+
+<p>(Lizzie's attention is attracted to Willie, who looks worried about his
+torn book.)</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Great mercy, boy, you ought to have a pain in de chest. Look,
+you settin dere wid your bosom wide open. Fasten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> up your neck dere, I
+say.&mdash;Possum, come here, is you do like I tell you? Is you ax Miss
+Mammie for somethin to clean up dat nose wid?</p>
+
+<p>Possum&mdash;Yes'um.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Look out now, I'll whip you for tellin a story. Whe' de rag? No,
+you ain' ax her neither. Gwine on en clean up dat nose fore I wear you
+out.</p>
+
+<p>(Possum goes around corner of house).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Help me Lord not to forget it dis time. I sho got dat tune&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>June&mdash;Aun' Izzie, Aun' Izzie, Possum fall in de tub of water what settin
+under de pump.</p>
+
+<p>(Possum appears from around the corner of the house just at that moment
+drenched and almost frozen).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Great Lord a mercy! Possum, you looks like a drowned possum sho
+enough. Why ain' you do like I tell you to do? You know I don' never
+allow you chillun ramblin round dat pump tub no time. Ain' nobody want
+to drink out no tub you wash your snotty nose in. Fetch yourself in dere
+to de fire en dry yourself fore you is catch a death of cold. Gwine on,
+boy. Don' stand dere en watch me like a frizzle chicken. Dere Mr. John
+Fortune comin now. I gwine tell him to catch Possum en cook him up.</p>
+
+<p>Possum&mdash;I gwine run.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;You say you gwine run?</p>
+
+<p>Possum&mdash;No'um, I ain' say I gwine run.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Mind you now, Possum, you know what I tell you bout a
+story-teller.</p>
+
+<p>Mammie&mdash;Miss Lizzie, I just don' believe he know right from wrong.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Well, I gwine learn him den. Ain' nothin I despises worser den a
+story-teller. (Lizzie slaps Possum on the shoulder several times and
+sends him in the house to dry, shivering from both cold and fear.).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Miss Davis, Mr. John Fortune helps me out wonderfully wid dese
+chillun. Say, when dey bad, he gwine cook dem up en eat dem. Yes, mam, I
+tellin de truth, honey, dese chillun keeps me settin here listenin wid
+all my ears en lookin wid all my eyes, but dey is right sorta
+entertainin like. Yes'um, dey got so much of sense till dey done took
+what little I is had.</p>
+
+<p>(Alfred comes running in and leans up on Lizzie).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Clean up dat snotty nose, Alfred. You ought to been name Snotty
+wid your mouth all de time lookin like you ain' hear tell of no pocket
+rag. Move way from dere, June. Don' blow your nose settin side Miss
+Davis. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Date, February 10, 1938</span><br /><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>III</b></span></p>
+
+<p>It is three days later. Lizzie is sitting on her little porch enjoying
+the warm sunshine of a bright February day. The children have gone just
+across the street to play on the sidewalk and while Lizzie keeps a
+watchful eye on them, she is trying once more to call back to her mind
+some of the old time songs that she used to sing in her early days. Her
+visitor sits on a bench nearby ready to make notes of these old songs as
+she sings them. Lizzie's attention is not only distracted by the
+children at intervals but also by different ones of her friends
+constantly passing along the street in front of the small home.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Lord, Miss Davis, look like everything a hustlin dis mornin.
+Yes'um, dis here Monday mornin en everybody is a bustlin gwine to see
+bout dey business. Seems like everything just gwine on, just gwine on. I
+tell you de truth, Miss Davis, I studied so hard bout dem songs de other
+night, I beg de Massa to show me de light en he hop me to recollect dis
+one for you. See, when you gets to de age I is, you is foolish&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>(Joseph runs across the street to tell Lizzie something).</p>
+
+<p>Joseph&mdash;Aun' Izzie, Possum teachin June to hit Jerry.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Uh-huh, I gwine sho beat him, too. (Lizzie turns to her visitor)
+Possum, he teachin June to knock dat little one wid de speckle coat on.</p>
+
+<p>Visitor&mdash;Is he another child that you are taking care of?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;No'um, he grandma raise him en de poor little creature, he don'
+have nobody to play wid. Look like nobody don' care when he come or whe'
+he go. I say, I tries to collect mine up en take care of dem cause it
+dis way, if you don' take time en learn chillun, dey old en dey ain'
+old; dey fool en dey ain' fool. Yes'um, I tryin to drill dem, Miss
+Davis, but it does take time en a little whip, too. Has to punish dem
+right smart sometimes. I tellin you, dem chillun sho a 'sponsibility.
+Dem what put all dem gray hair up dere on my topknot. I tell dis one en
+dat one to set to a certain place till I say to get up en den I'll get
+my studyin on somethin else en de child, he'll be out yonder&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>(Heddie Davis, age 72, a neighbor of Lizzies, comes over to join in the
+conversation).</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Here come de hoss (horse). Come in, Miss Heddie. Miss Davis
+wants us to sing one of dem old back tunes dis mornin.</p>
+
+<p>Heddie&mdash;Well, I is studied up one tune what I been hear de old people
+sing when I wasn' nothin much more den a puppy&mdash;Lord a mercy, Miss
+Lizzie, dere dem people comin from de trial. Look, dere dey fetchin dat
+girl to Dr. Graham now. En my Lord, got de poor child's head all wrapped
+up dat way. Dat man, he ought to have he head plucked. He know better
+den to cut dat child so close de senses. Don' know what de matter wid de
+people nohow.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Ain' nothin but de devil, Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>(Boy, about 8 years old, comes across the street and hands Lizzie a
+bundle).</p>
+
+<p>Pickle&mdash;Miss Lizzie, ma say dere your sewin.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Thank you, son, thank you a thousand times again. Tell your
+mamma de old hen a scratchin bout out dere in de yard now huntin de nest
+en ain' gwine be no long time fore I can be catchin her a chicken to put
+in de pot. Yes, Lord, I got to start savin dem egg dis very day for de
+settin. (Lizzie turns to her visitor on the porch and continues her
+conversation). Miss Rosa, she does do all my sewin for me en I generally
+gives her eggs for her kindness. I sorry dere so much of huntin egg de
+same day.</p>
+
+<p>(Little boy, Pickle, looks disappointed and continues to hang around).</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Aun' Izzie, sing somethin.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;You want me to sing so bad, sugar, en I ain' know nothin
+neither. Heddie, turn me one.</p>
+
+<p>Heddie&mdash;Gwine on en spill dat one yourself what you been tell me bout de
+other mornin en quit your pickin on me.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Well, I tryin to get myself together, but dere so much of
+travelin en so much of chillun, I can' collect&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Alfred&mdash;Aun' Izzie, can I go to whe' Jerry gone?</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;No, boy, you know I ain' got no mind to let you go runnin off
+dat way. (Lizzie calls to Mammie in the room). Mammie, look dere to de
+clock. I gettin in a fidget to get some of dese chillun way from here.</p>
+
+<p>(Pickle still hangs around).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Joseph, come here.</p>
+
+<p>Joseph&mdash;Un-uh.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Boy, don' you grunt at me dat way. Come here, I say. Go dere in
+de chicken house en hunt dat one egg en give it to Pickle to carry to he
+mamma.&mdash;Got to scatter dese chillun way from here&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Joseph&mdash;Here de egg, Aun' Izzie.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Fetch it dere to Pickle den. Boy, tell your mamma I sorry I ain'
+had no egg to send her 'cept just dat one nest egg. Tell her, when she
+buss dat egg, she better look right sharp en see is de hen ain' got it
+noways addle like cause&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Aun' Izzie, how my nose is?</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Look bad. Gwine on in dere en clean your face up. I know you
+ain' gwine to school wid all dem crumbs stuck bout on your mouth.
+Joseph, gwine on in de house dere en put you on some more clothes. Gwine
+on in dere, I say. Don' stand dere on de street en strip.</p>
+
+<p>Heddie&mdash;No, boy, don' pull off in no public.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Aun' Izzie, I gwine carry my bread to school wid me.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Hunt you a paper den. You can' go dere to school wid no handful
+of bread makin all dem chillun start mouthin round you. Joseph, get me a
+paper to put dis here child's bread in.</p>
+
+<p>Joseph&mdash;Here, Bertha Lee. Here de paper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Lord, Miss Davis, it a time. I tell you de truth, honey, dis
+here 'sponsibility got me tied both hand en foot. Ain' no rest nowhe'. I
+hates it you come here en ain' gettin nothin what you been aimin to
+catch. I gwine be ready toreckly though. Let me get dese chillun in de
+road en dem songs gwine start travelin out my head faster den lightnin&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha Lee&mdash;Aun' Izzie, make Joseph come on.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Joseph, get in dat road dere side Bertha Lee. Now, you chillun
+make your tracks dere to school straight as you can go en if you stop
+dere to dat lady house en get a pecan, I gwine whip you hard as I can.</p>
+
+<p>Joseph and Bertha Lee&mdash;Good-bye Possum, good-bye June, good-bye Alfred.</p>
+
+<p>Possum, June, Alfred&mdash;Good-bye Joseph, good-bye Bertha Lee.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Here dat tune come buzzin now, Miss Davis. Is you got dis one?<br /><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Sunday Mornin Band!</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Oh, my sister,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How you walk on de cross?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sunday mornin band!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, your feet might slip</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En your soul get lost.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sunday mornin band!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, what band,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, what band,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Do you belong?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What band! What band!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sunday mornin band!"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Heddie&mdash;Sis, you is done took de one I been how. I been expectin you was
+comin out wid one of dem old time reels you used to be a singin en a
+jiggin bout all de time.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Oh, I been know a heap of dem reels. Hoped sing dem behind de
+old folks back many a day cause us chillun wasn' never allowed to sing
+reels in dem days. See, old back people was more religious den dey is
+now. Yes, mam, dey been know what spell somethin in dat day en time.
+When dey would speak den, dey meant somethin, I tell you. People does
+just go through de motion dese days en don' have no mind to mean what
+dey talk. No, child, us didn' dar'sen to let us parents hear us sing no
+reels den. What dem old people didn' quarrel out us, dey whip out us. My
+father never wouldn' let we chillun go to no frolics, but us would
+listen from de house en catch what us could. I used to could turn a heap
+of dem reels, too, but he was so tight on us till everything bout left
+me. Lord, Heddie, give me a thought. You is de jiggin hoss. Hope me out,
+Heddie, hope me out.</p>
+
+<p>(Heddie begins song and Lizzie joins in and finishes it).</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"The blackest nigger I ever did see,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He come a runnin down from Tennessee,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His eye was red en his gum was blue,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En God a mighty struck him,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">En his shirt tail flew.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Meet me at de crossroads,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For I'm gwine join de band.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Um-huh! Um-huh! Um-huh!"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Great Lord a mercy, Miss Davis, dem kind of tune, dem sinful en
+wicked songs, dey what I used to turn fore I been big enough to know
+what been in dem. No, honey, I thank de good Lord to point me way from
+all dat foolishness en wickedness en I ain' gwine back to it neither.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Lord, I know dat my time ain' long,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, de bells keep a ringin,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Somebody is a dying,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lord, I know dat my time ain' long.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(Repeat three times)</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lord, I know dat my time ain' long,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, de hammer keep a knockin,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Keep a knockin on somebody coffin,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lord, I know dat my time ain' long."</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(Repeat three times).</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie&mdash;Lord, I sho know my time ain' long. De Lord say de way of de
+righteous prevaileth to eternal life en I know I right, people. Lord, I
+know I right. 'Sponsibility or no 'sponsibility, Lord, I seekin de
+Kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Lizzie Davis, colored, 70-80 years, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, December 13, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>LIZZIE DAVIS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, Age 70 to 80</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"No, mam, I couldn' exactly tell you how old I is cause my father, he
+been dead over 20 years en when us had a burnin out dere to Georgetown,
+Pa's Bible was destroyed den. Cose I don' remember myself, say, slavery
+time, but I can tell dat what I is hear de olden people talk bout been
+gwine on in dat day en time. No, mam, I want to suggest to you de best I
+can cause I might have to go back up yonder en tell it to be justified
+some of dese days."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I been know your father en your grandfather en all of dem. Bless
+mercy, child, I don' want to tell you nothin, but what to please you.
+Lord, I glad to see your face. It look so lovin en pleasin, just so as I
+is always know you. Look like dere not a wave of trouble is ever roll
+'cross your peaceful bosom."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, like I speak to you, I don' know rightly bout my age, but I can
+tell you when dat shake come here, I been a missie girl. Oh, my Lord, I
+been just as proud en crazy in dem days. Wasn' thinkin nothin bout dat
+dese dark days was headin here. Yes, mam, I is always been afflicted
+ever since I been twelve years old, so dey tell me. You see, dat muscle
+right back dere in my foot, it grow crooked just like a hook. De doctor,
+he say dat if dey had kept me movin bout, it wouldn' been grow dat way.
+But my poor old mammy, she die while us was livin down dere to old man
+Foster Brown's plantation en<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> dere won' no other hand gwine trouble dey
+way no time to lift me up. Oh, my mammy, she been name Katie Brown cause
+my parents, dey belonged to de old man Foster Brown in dey slavery day.
+Dat how-come I been raise up a country child dere on Mr. Brown's
+plantation. Another thing, like as you might be a noticin, I ain' never
+been married neither. No, mam, I ain' never been married cause I is
+always been use a stick in walkin in my early days en never didn' nobody
+want me. Yes, mam, I know I every bit of 70 or gwine on 80 years old to
+my mind en I think it a blessin de Lord preserve me dis long to de
+world. Cose I often wonders why de good Massa keep me here en take dem
+what able to work for demselves."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, honey, wid God harness on me, I come here to dis town a grown
+woman to live en I been livin right here by myself in dis same house
+near bout 20 years. Cose dere a little 12-year-old country girl dat
+stays here wid me while de school be gwine on so as to get some learnin.
+Yes'um, I pays $2.00 every month for dis here room en it ain' worth
+nothin to speak bout. Pap Scott's daughter stay in dat other room over
+dere. No, mam, dere ain' but just dese two rooms to de house. You, see,
+my buildin does leak en I has a big time some of dese days. See here,
+child, I has dis piece of oilcloth cross my bed en when it rains on a
+night, I sleeps in dat chair over dere en lets it drop on de oilcloth.
+Den when it comes a storm, my Lord, dere such a racket! I be settin here
+lookin for dat top up dere to be tumblin down on me de next crack en
+seems like it does give me such a misery in my head. Yes, mam,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> dat
+misery does strike me every time I hear tell bout dere a darkness in de
+cloud."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, drawed up as I is, I ain' able to get no work worth much to speak
+bout dese days. It dis way, child, don' nobody like to see no old ugly
+crooked up creature like me round bout whe' dey be no time. Cose I sets
+here en does a washin now en den whe' de people gets push up, but don'
+get no regular work. Now, dem people over dere, I does dey washin
+mostly, but dey don' never be noways particular en stylish like en I
+don' have nothin much to worry wid. See, de lady, she don' go bout
+nowhe' much."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Lord, dere my stove right dere, I say. Yes, mam, I cooks right here
+in de fireplace all de time. I got dat pot on dere wid some turnips a
+boilin now en it gettin on bout time I be mixin up dat bread, too, fore
+dat child be comin home from school hungry as a louse. I say, I got dis
+here old black iron spider en dis here iron griddle, too, what I does my
+bakin on cause you see, I come from way back yonder. Dem what de olden
+people used to cook on fore stoves ever been come here. Yes, mam, de
+spider got three legs dat it sets on en de griddle, dat what I makes
+dese little thin kind of hoecake on. See, when I wants to bake in de
+spider, I heaps my coals up in a pile dat way so as to set de spider on
+dem en pours de batter in de spider en puts de lid on. Den I rakes me up
+another batch of coals en covers de lid over wid dem. Do dat to make it
+get done on de top. Yes, mam, dat de kind of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> spider dat de people
+used to cook dey cake in. Now, when I has a mind to cook some turnips or
+some collards, I makes dis here boil bread. Honey, dat somethin to talk
+bout eatin wid dem turnips. Ain' no trouble to mind it neither. First, I
+just washes my hands right clean like en takes en mixes up my meal en
+water together wid my hand till I gets a right stiff dough. Den I
+pinches off a piece de dough bout big as a goose egg en flattens it out
+wid my hand en drops it in de pot wid de greens. Calls dat boil
+dumplings. I think bout I got a mind dat I gwine cook some of dem in dat
+turnip pot directly, too. No, mam, I don' never eat dinner till it come
+bout time for de little girl to be expectin to be from school. Oh, my
+blessed, dem olden people sho know how to cook in dem days. Never didn'
+hear speak bout de cookin upsettin de people in dat day en time like it
+sets de people in a misery dese days. Dat how-come, I say, I ain' noways
+ailin in de inside cause it be dat I lives de olden way. Yes, child, de
+slavery people sho had de hand to cook. Dere ain' never been nothin cook
+nowhe' dat could satisfy a cravin like dat ash cake dat de people used
+to cook way back dere, I say. Oh, dey would mix up a batter just like
+dey was gwine make a hoecake en wrap it all up in oak leaves or a piece
+of dis here heavy brown paper en lay it in de hot ashes. Den dey would
+rake some more hot ashes all over de top of it. Yes'um, de dampness out
+de hoecake would keep de wrappin wet en when it would get done, de paper
+would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> peel right off it. I tell you, honey, I mighty glad I been come
+along in dat day en time. Mighty thankful I been a child of de olden
+ways."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, child, de people what been raise de slavery way, dey been have a
+heap of curious notions en some of dem was good, I say. Yes, mam, dere
+one sign dat I remembers bout en I follows dat up right sharp dese days.
+I sho watches dat closely. Say, somebody have a mouthful of rations en
+sneeze, it a sign of death. I finds dat to be very true to speak bout.
+Yes'um, I notices dat a good one, Miss Davis."</p>
+
+<p>"Den I got another one comin. Always say, when you see bout a dozen
+buzzards moesin (flying) round a house en den dey break off en make a
+straight shoot for a graveyard, dere somebody out dat house gwine be
+bury dere soon. Cose dat what I hear talk bout, but I ain' watched dat
+so much."</p>
+
+<p>"No, mam, dat ain' half de signs what de olden people used to have cause
+dat all what dey know to tell dem what to do en what was gwine happen.
+Dem what was wise, dey followed dem signs closely, too. Yes, you come
+back another time, child, en I'll see can I scratch up a heap of dem
+other sign to tell you. When I gets to talkin to you bout old times, my
+mind, it just gets to wanderin over dem old fields whe' I run bout as a
+little small child en I can' half remember nothin to speak to you bout."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Lizzie Davis, colored, Marion, S. C.&mdash;Age 70 to 80.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Code No.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, December 21, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>No. Words &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Reduced from &mdash;&mdash; words</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Rewritten by &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>LIZZIE DAVIS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, Age &mdash;&mdash;</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"My parents, dey was sho raise in de South. Been come up on de old man
+Foster Brown's plantation. Ain' you know whe' Mr. Foster Brown used to
+live? Yes, mam, down dere in dat grove of pecans dat you see settin side
+de road, when you be gwine down next to Centenary. I remember, I hear my
+father tell bout dat his mammy was sold right here to dis courthouse, on
+dat big public square up dere, en say dat de man set her up in de wagon
+en took her to Georgetown wid him. Sold her right dere on de block. Oh,
+I hear dem talkin bout de sellin block plenty times. Pa say, when he see
+dem carry his mammy off from dere, it make he heart swell in his breast.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'um, I hear my father talk bout how dey would shoot de great big
+bomb guns in slavery time. Seems like, he say dat de shootin fuss been
+come from Fort Sumter. Oh, my Lord, I hear talk dat de people could hear
+dem guns roarin all bout dis here country. I know dat word been true
+cause I hear my parents en de olden people speak bout dat right dere
+fore we chillun. Say, when dey would feel dat rumblin noise, de people
+would be so scared. Didn' know what was gwine happen. Cose I speak bout
+what I catch cause de olden people never didn' allow dey chillun to set
+en hear dem talk no time. No, mam, de olden people was mighty careful of
+de words dey let slip dey lips.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we chillun would have de most fun dere ever was romancin (roaming)
+dem woods in dat day en time. I used to think it was de nicest thing dat
+I been know bout to go down in de woods side one of dem shady branch en
+get a cup of right cool water to drink out de stream. I tell you, I
+thought dat was de sweetest water I is ever swallowed. Den we chillun
+used to go out in de woods wid de crowd en get dese big oak leaves en
+hickory leaves en make hats. Would use dese here long pine needles en
+thorns for de pins dat we would pick up somewhe' dere in de woods. En we
+would dress de hats wid all kind of wild flowers en moss dat we been
+find scatter bout in de woods, too. Oh, yes'um, we thought dey was de
+prettiest kind of bonnets. Den we would get some of dese green saplin
+out de woods often times to make us a ridin horse wid en would cut down
+a good size pine another time en make a flyin mare to ride on. Yes, mam,
+dat what we would call it. Well, when we would have a mind to make one
+of dem flyin mare, we chillun would slip a ax to de woods wid us en chop
+down a nice little pine tree, so as dere would be a good big stump left
+in de ground. Den we would chisel de top of de stump down all round de
+edges till we had us a right sharp peg settin up in de middle of de
+stump. After dat was fixed, we would cut us another pole a little bit
+smaller den dat one en bore a hole in de middle of it to make it set
+down on dat peg. Oh, my Lord, one of us chillun would get on dis end en
+dere another one would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> get on de other end en us chillun would give dem
+a shove dat would send dem flyin round fast as I could say
+mighty-me-a-life. My blessed a mercy, child, it would most bout knock de
+sense out dem what been on dere. Yes, mam, everybody would be crazy to
+ride on de flyin mare. All de neighbor's chillun would gather up en go
+in de woods en jump en shout bout which one turn come to ride next. I
+tellin you, dem was big pleasures us had in dat day en time en dey never
+cost nobody nothin neither."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mr. Brown, he was mighty good to his colored people, so I hear my
+parents say. Would allow all his niggers to go to de white people church
+to preachin every Sunday, Cose my father, he was de carriage driver en
+he would have task to drive de white folks to church on a Sunday.
+Yes'um, dem what been belong to Mr. Brown, dey had dey own benches to
+set on right up dere in de gallery to de white people church, but I hear
+talk dat some of dem other white people round bout dere never wouldn'
+let dey colored people see inside dey church no time. Lord, I talk bout
+how de people bless wid privilege to go to church like dey want to in
+dis day en time en don' have de mind to serve de Lord like dey ought to
+no time. Cose dere a man comes here every Sunday mornin in a car en
+takes me out to church. Ain' no kin to me neither. He late sometimes en
+de preacher be bout out wid de sermon, but I goes anyhow en gets all I
+can. Look like de Lord bless me somehow, cripple up as I is, I say."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"De shake! Oh, I remember it well cause I been a grown girl den.
+Everybody thought it was de Jedgment en all de people was runnin out en
+a hollerin. I thought it was de last myself en I livin here to tell de
+people, I was sho scared. I been out to de well bout 12 o'clock de next
+day en I could see de water in de well just a quiverin. Lord, Lord, dat
+water tremble bout four weeks after dat. Such a hollerin en a prayin as
+de people had bout dat shake. No'um I was livin down dere to Tabernacle
+den en dere wasn' none of de houses round us destroyed. No, child, won'
+no harm done nowhe' dat I knows of only as a heap of de people been so
+scared, dey never didn' grow no more."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'um, I think bout here de other night dat I had make you a promise
+to fetch you up some of dem signs de olden people used to put faith in.
+Dere one sign bout if you hear a dog howl or a cow low round your house
+on a night, it a pretty good sign you gwine lose somebody out dat house.
+I finds dat to be a mighty true sign cause I notices it very closely."</p>
+
+<p>"Den dey used to say, too, if you get up in de mornin feelin in a good
+humor, de devil sho gwine get you fore night fall dat same day. Cose I
+don' pay so much attention to dat. If I get up feelin like singin, I has
+to sing cause it my time to sing, I say."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see, dere another one of dem omen dat I had shake up in my mind
+to tell you. Say, if you see a ground mole rootin round your house, it
+won' be long fore you gwine move from dat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> place. But I don' never see
+no ground moles hardly dese days. Don' think dey worries nobody much."</p>
+
+<p>"I recollects, too, way back yonder de people used to say, if you see de
+smoke comin out de chimney en turn down en flatten out on de ground, it
+a sign of rain in a few days."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mam, I think bout dis one more. If you dream bout you be travelin
+en come to a old rotten down buildin, it a sign of a old person death.
+Don' say whe' it a man or a woman, but it a sho sign dat a old person
+gwine die."</p>
+
+<p>"Den people what lives in de country believes, if a fox comes round a
+house barkin en a scratchin, it a sign dey gwine lose somebody out dey
+family. Yes'um, de fox just comes right out de woods up to de yard en
+barks. You see, a dog won' never run a fox dat comes bout dem barkin.
+No, mam, when de dog hear dat, he just stands right under de house en
+growls at de fox. I know dat be a true sign cause us tried dat one."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I got another one of dem thought comin. Yes, my Lord, I hear talk
+dat if you get de broom en sweep your house out fore sunrise, you would
+sweep your friends out right wid de trash. Dat used to be a big sign wid
+de people, too. En it bad luck to take up ashes after de sun go down,
+dey say. Yes, I know bout plenty people won' do dat today."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, honey, seems like when I calls back, de people in a worser fix
+den when I used to get 25 cents a day. Used to could take dat en go to a
+country store en get a decent dress to wear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> to church. Sell peck of us
+corn en get it in trade. Didn' never pay more den 50 cents for a load of
+wood in dem days en I remembers just as good eggs been sell for 10 cents
+a dozen en 15 cents bout Christmas time. Cose I ain' exactly decided
+what to speak bout de times cause it dis way to my mind. De people, dey
+have a better privilege dis day en time, but dey don' appreciate nothin
+like dey did back in my dark days. Yes, mam, de people was more thankful
+to man en God den dey is dese days. Dat my belief bout de way de world
+turnin, I say."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lizzie Davis, colored, age between 70 and 80, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1855</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>LOUISA DAVIS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 106 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Well, well, well! You knows my white folks on Jackson Creek, up in
+Fairfield! I's mighty glad of dat, and glad to see you. My white folks
+come to see me pretty often, though they lives way up dere. You wants to
+write me up? Well, I'll tell you all I recollect, and what I don't tell
+you, my daughter and de white folks can put in de other 'gredients. Take
+dis armchair and git dat smokin' ash tray; lay it on de window sill by
+you and make yourself comfortable and go ahead."</p>
+
+<p>"I was born in de Catawba River section. My grandpappy was a full blood
+Indian; my pappy a half Indian; my mother, coal black woman. Just who I
+b'long to when a baby? I'll leave dat for de white folks to tell, but
+old Marster Jim Lemon buy us all; pappy, mammy, and three chillun: Jake,
+Sophie, and me. De white folks I fust b'long to refuse to sell 'less
+Marse Jim buy de whole family; dat was clever, wasn't it? Dis old Louisa
+must of come from good stock, all de way 'long from de beginnin', and I
+is sho' proud of dat."</p>
+
+<p>"When he buy us, Marse Jim take us to his place on Little River nigh
+clean cross de county. In de course of time us fell to Marse Jim's son,
+John, and his wife, Miss Mary. I was a grown woman then and nursed their
+fust baby, Marse Robert. I see dat baby grow to be a man and 'lected to
+legislature, and stand up in dat Capitol over yonder cross de river and
+tell them de Law and how they should act, I did. They say I was a pretty
+gal, then, face shiny lak a ginger cake, and hair straight and black as
+a crow, and I ain't so bad to look at now, Marse Willie says."</p>
+
+<p>"My pappy rise to be foreman on de place and was much trusted, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> he
+plowed and worked just de same, mammy say maybe harder."</p>
+
+<p>"Then one springtime de flowers git be blooming, de hens to cackling,
+and de guineas to patarocking. Sam come along when I was out in de yard
+wid de baby. He fust talk to de baby, and I asked him if de baby wasn't
+pretty. He say, 'Yes, but not as pretty as you is, Louisa.' I looks at
+Sam, and dat kind of foolishness wind up in a weddin'. De white folks
+allowed us to be married on de back piazza, and Reverend Boggs performed
+de ceremony."</p>
+
+<p>"My husband was a slave of de Sloans and didn't get to see me often as
+he wanted to; and of course, as de housemaid then, dere was times I
+couldn't meet him, clandestine like he want me. Us had some grief over
+dat, but he got a pass twice a week from his marster, Marse Tommie
+Sloan, to come to see me. Bold as Sam git to be, in after years ridin'
+wid a red shirt long side of General Bratton in '76, dat nigger was
+timid as a rabbit wid me when us fust git married. Shucks, let's talk
+'bout somthing else. Sam was a field hand and drive de wagon way to
+Charleston once a year wid cotton, and always bring back something
+pretty for me."</p>
+
+<p>"When de war come on, Sam went wid young Marster Tom Sloan as bodyguard,
+and attended to him, and learned to steal chickens, geese, and turkeys
+for his young marster, just to tell 'bout it. He dead now; and what I
+blames de white folks for, they never would give him a pension, though
+he spend so much of his time and labor in their service. I ain't bearin'
+down on my kind of white folks, for I'd jump wid joy if I could just git
+back into slavery and have de same white folks to serve and be wid them,
+day in and day out."</p>
+
+<p>"Once a week I see de farm hands git rations at de smoke house, but dat
+didn't concern me. I was a housemaid and my mammy run de kitchen, and us
+got de same meals as my marster's folks did."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yas sir; I got 'possum. Know how to cook him now. Put him in a pot and
+parboil him, then put him in a oven wid lots of lard or fat-back, and
+then bake him wid yaller yam potatoes, flanked round and round, and then
+wash him down wid locust and persimmon beer followed by a piece of
+pumpkin pie. Dat make de bestest meal I 'members in slavery days."</p>
+
+<p>"Us got fish out of Little River nigh every Saturday, and they went good
+Sunday morning. Us had Saturday evenin's, dat is, de farm hands did, and
+then I got to go to see Sam some Sundays. His folks, de Sloans, give us
+a weddin' dinner on Sunday after us was married, and they sho' did tease
+Sam dat day."</p>
+
+<p>"Like all rich buckra, de Lemons had hogs a plenty, big flock of sheep,
+cotton gin, slaves to card, slaves to spin, and slaves to weave. Us was
+well clothed and fed and 'tended to when sick. They was concerned 'bout
+our soul's salvation. Us went to church, learn de catechism; they was
+Presbyterians, and read de Bible to us. But I went wid Sam after
+freedom. He took de name of Davis, and I jined de Methodist Church and
+was baptized Louisa Davis."</p>
+
+<p>"Patroller, you ask me? 'Spect I do 'member them. Wasn't I a goodlookin'
+woman? Didn't Sam want to see me more than twice a week? Wouldn't he
+risk it widout de pass some time? Sure he did. De patrollers got after
+and run Sam many a time."</p>
+
+<p>"After de war my pappy went to Florida. He look just like a Indian, hair
+and all, bushy head, straight and young lookin' wid no beard. We never
+heard from him since."</p>
+
+<p>"De slaves wash de family clothes on Saturday and then rested after
+doin' dat. Us had a good time Christmas; every slave ketch white folks
+wid a holler, 'Christmas gift, Marster' and they holler it to each
+other. Us all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> hung our stockin's all 'bout de Big House, and then dere
+would be sumpin' in dere next mornin'. Lord, wasn't them good times!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now how is it dese days? Young triflin' nigger boys and gals lyin'
+'round puffin' cigarets, carryin' whiskey 'round wid them, and gittin'
+in jail on Christmas, grievin' de Lord and their pappies, and all sich
+things. OH! De risin' generation and de future! What is it comin' to? I
+just don't know, but dere is comin' a time to all them."</p>
+
+<p>"I sho' like to dance when I was younger. De fiddlers was Henry Copley
+and Buck Manigault; and if anybody 'round here could make a fiddle ring
+like Buck could, wouldn't surprise me none if my heart wouldn't cry out
+to my legs, 'Fust lady to de right and cheat or swing as you like, and
+on to de right'."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop dat laughin'. De Indian blood in me have held me up over a hundred
+years, and de music might make me young again."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, us had ghost stories, make your hair stand on end, and us put
+iron in de fire when us hear screech owl, and put dream book under bed
+to keep off bad dreams."</p>
+
+<p>"When de yankees come they took off all they couldn't eat or burn, but
+don't let's talk 'bout dat. Maybe if our folks had beat them and git up
+into dere country our folks would of done just like they did. Who
+knows?"</p>
+
+<p>"You see dis new house, de flower pots, de dog out yonder, de cat in de
+sun lyin' in de chair on de porch, de seven tubs under de shed, de two
+big wash pots, you see de pictures hangin' round de wall, de nice beds,
+all dese things is de blessin's of de Lord through President Roosevelt.
+My grandson, Pinckney, is a World War man, and he got in de CCC Camp,
+still in it in North Carolina. When he got his bonus, he come down, and
+say, 'Grandma, you too old to walk, supposin' I git you a automobile?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>
+I allow, 'Son, de Indian blood rather make me want a house.' Then us
+laugh. 'Well,' he say, 'Dis money I has and am continuin' to make, I
+wants you and mama to enjoy it.' Then he laugh fit to kill heself. Then
+I say, 'I been dreamin' of a tepee all our own, all my lifetime; buy us
+a lot over in Sugartown in New Brookland, and make a home of happiness
+for your ma, me and you'."</p>
+
+<p>"And dis is de tepee you settin' in today. I feel like he's a young
+warrior, loyal and brave, off in de forests workin' for his chief, Mr.
+Roosevelt, and dat his dreams are 'bout me maybe some night wid de winds
+blowin' over dat three C camp where he is."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project #1855</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>District #4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 29, 1937</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was a slave of Bill Davis who lived at "Rich Hill", near Indian
+Creek, in Newberry County, S. C. I was born about 1856, I reckon. My
+daddy was Ivasum Davis and my mammy was Rhody Davis. Marse Bill was a
+good master, lived in a big house, give us a good place to live and
+plenty to eat. He hardly ever whipped us, and was never cruel to us. He
+didn't let his overseer whip us, and never hit a man.</p>
+
+<p>"Aw, we had good eats den. Wish I has some of dem old ash-cakes now
+which was cooked in de brick oven or in de ashes in de fireplace. My
+mistress had a big garden, and give us something to eat out of it. We
+used to go hunting, and killed possums, rabbit, squirrels, and birds.</p>
+
+<p>"We had home-made clothes 'till I was big boy. Dey was made from card
+and spin wheels.</p>
+
+<p>"Our work was light; we got up at sun-up at blowing of de horn and
+worked till sundown. Sometimes we worked on Saturday afternoons when we
+had to. On Saturday nights we had frolics&mdash;men and women. Some women
+would wash their clothes on Saturday afternoons. Den at night we have
+prayer meetings.</p>
+
+<p>"We had no church on our plantation, not till after freedom, but we
+learned to read and write and spell.</p>
+
+<p>"De padderrolers didn't bother us; our master always give us a pass when
+we go anywhere.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"On Christmas Day master always give big dinners for slaves, and on New
+Year we had a holiday.</p>
+
+<p>"I married Lila Davis at de Baptist Church in Newberry.</p>
+
+<p>"When our slaves got sick we sent for de doctor. Some of de old folks in
+the neighborhood believed in giving root-herb tea or tea made from
+cherry barks or peach leaves.</p>
+
+<p>"When freedom come de master told us we was free and could go but if we
+wanted to stay on with him, we could stay. We stayed with him for two
+years and worked by day wages.</p>
+
+<p>"The Ku Klux was dere. I heard old folks talk about dem. Dey had white
+sheets over their heads and white caps on their heads.</p>
+
+<p>"The Yankees went through our place and stole cattle.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought slavery was all right, 'cause I had a good time. I had a good
+master.</p>
+
+<p>"I joined the church when I was 21 years old because I thought I'd live
+better. I think all ought to join the church."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Wallace Davis (88), Newberry, S. C.; interviewer: G. Leland</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Summer, Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Oct. 15, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES OF EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I live in a little two-room house beyond Helena where I work a little
+patch of land which I rent. I don't own anything. I make a living
+working de land.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born on Indian Creek in Newberry County, S. C. about 1856. My
+mammy was Rhody Davis and my pa was Ivasum Davis. We belonged in slavery
+to Bill Davis. He lived at de place called "Rich Hill". De old house is
+done tore down, but young Riser now lives in de new house on de place.</p>
+
+<p>"Our master was good to us, but whipped us a little sometimes. He would
+not allow his overseer to whip any of us. He give us enough to eat and a
+fair place to live in. We didn't want fer anything. Dey had plenty to
+eat on de farm, and sure had good eatings. Dere was a brick oven which
+could cook good bread and cakes. We had a big garden which de mistress
+looked after, and she had plenty from it which she shared wid de slaves.</p>
+
+<p>"De old spinning wheel was used lots of times and dey made all de
+clothes everybody on de place wore.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn't have no church to go to, but dey sometimes made some slaves
+go to white folks churches where dey set on de back seats. We didn't
+have schools and couldn't learn to read and write till after freedom
+come; den some niggers learned at de brush arbors.</p>
+
+<p>"Befo' freedom de patrollers marched up and down de road but didn't
+bother us. Our master always give us a pass when we went somewhere. On
+Christmas he give us big dinners.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I married Lilla Davis at de white folks' Baptist church in Newberry.</p>
+
+<p>"When slaves got sick some of dem took tree barks and made teas to
+drink, and some made tea from root herbs. We had doctors, too, but dey
+made lots of deir medicine from de barks and herbs.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't remember much what de Ku Klux did, but heard about dem. Just
+after de war de Yankees marched through our place and stole some cattle
+and run away wid dem. In some places dey burned down de barns and gin
+houses.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a good master and always had plenty to eat, so I thought slavery
+was all right. We didn't have nothing of any kind to worry about.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know nothing much about Abe Lincoln or Jefferson Davis."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Wallace Davis (N. 88), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (9/15/37).</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, August 20, 1937</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>WILLIAM HENRY DAVIS</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 72 Years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I born de first day of March in 1865 cause de white folks raise me
+mostly en dat how-come I know how old I ought to say I is. My father
+belong to de old man Jackie Davis, dat live not so far from Tabernacle,
+en den he fall to he son, Mr. William J. Davis. Dat whe' I was raise. My
+grandfather, old man Caesar, live dere too."</p>
+
+<p>"I never been treated exactly as de other plantation peoples was as it
+just like I tellin you, I be round de white folks mostly. My mamma, she
+do all de cooking to de big house en dere be a division in de Missus
+kitchen for de cook en she chillun to stay in. Sometimes my Massa make
+my mamma feed all de small plantation chillun dere to de kitchen from de
+table. Dey want de chillun to hurry en grow en dat de reason dey give em
+good attention at de house. Dey give us milk en clabber en corn bread to
+eat mostly en give us fritters some of de time. Dat was fried wheat
+bread what some people call pancakes. Used to give me job to mind de
+cows en de calves when dey was put to grazing."</p>
+
+<p>"All de other colored peoples live in de nigger quarter up on de hill.
+Just like de white people house here, de colored people house all be in
+row pretty much off from de big house. Oh, de people was meant to work
+in dat day en time. De white folks teach em en show em what dey look for
+em to do. Den if dey didn' do it like dey tell em do it, dey chastise
+em."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It just like I tellin you, de people fare wid abundance of everything
+in dem days. Destroy much meat in one month den as de people gets hold
+of in whole year dese days. It was just dis way, everybody know to have
+fence round bout dey plantation den en de hogs could run anywhe'. All de
+field land was fence en de woods was for de run of de stock. Dey mark em
+en some of de time, dey hear tell of stock 10 mile away. Know em by de
+brand."</p>
+
+<p>"Peoples didn' have heap of all kind of things dat dey have dese days,
+but somehow it look like dey have a knack of gettin along better wid
+what dey have den. Didn' have no stoves to cook on in dem days. Cook in
+clay oven en on de fireplace. Make up fire en when it die down, dey put
+tatoes (potatoes) in de oven en let em stay dere all night. My God, won'
+nothin no better den dem oven tatoes was. Some of de time, dey have wire
+in de chimney wid de pots hanging on dat. Folks used to make up a cake
+of corn bread en pat it on de hearth en when de fire burn right low, dey
+cover de cake all up in pile of ashes. When it get done, it be brown
+through de ashes en dey take it out en wash en rub all de ashes off it.
+Den it was ready to eat. Dat what dey call ash cake. Just seem like what
+de peoples used to cook be sweeter eatin den what dey cooks dis day en
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I beat rice many a day. Yes'um, beat rice many a day for my
+grandmother en my mamma too. Had a mortar en a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> pestle dat beat rice
+wid. Dey take big tree en saw log off en set it up just like a tub. Den
+dey hollow it out in de middle en take pestle dat have block on both it
+end en beat rice in dat mortar. Beat it long time en take it out en fan
+it en den put it back. De last time it put back, tear off some shucks en
+put in dere to get de red part of de rice out en make it white. Ain'
+nobody never been born can tell you more bout dem pestles en mortars den
+William Henry Davis know."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'um, used to go to corn shuckings en rye thrashings en pea
+thrashings plenty times. Oh, dey sing en have music en have big pot
+cookin out in de yard wid plenty rice en fresh meat for everybody. Dere
+be so many people some of de time, dey had to have two or three pots.
+Den dey have dem log rollings to clean up de land en when dey would get
+to rollin dem heavy logs, dey give de men a little drink of whiskey to
+revive em, but dey gage how much dey give em. O Lord, we had tough time
+den. After dey get through wid all de work, dey would eat supper den.
+Give us rice en corn bread en fresh meat en coffee en sweet tatoe pone.
+My Lord, dat sweet tatoe pone was de thing in dem days. Missie, you ain'
+never eat no pone bread? Dey take piece of tin en drive nails through it
+en grate de raw tatoes on dat. Den dey take a little flour en hot water
+en molasses en mix up in dem raw tatoes en bake it in de oven on de
+fireplace. Have lid to oven en put fire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> under de bottom of it en on de
+top to get it right done. Some of de time, dey put a little ginger in it
+fore it was baked. Cut it in big slices when it get done, but wouldn'
+never eat it till dey know it was cold. Missie, de older I gets de more
+I does sorrow to go back to dem old constructions dat dey used to have."</p>
+
+<p>"Some of de colored peoples have bresh (brush) shelter whe' dey go to
+church in dem days, but all us go to de white folks church. Oh, de
+colored peoples go in ox carts, but us white folks have teams en
+carriage to ride in. I recollects Mr. Davis carriage look sorta like a
+house wid two big horses to pull it. De family would be in de inside en
+have seats whe' dey set facing one another. De driver have seat on de
+outside in de front en on de back of de carriage was de place to set de
+trunks."</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy was de blacksmith for Mr. Jackie Davis en he could make plows
+en hoes en all dem kind of things. He have a circuit dat he go round en
+mend things on other white folks plantations. Some of de time, he bring
+back more den $100.00 to he boss dat he would make. Go all bout in dat
+part of Marion county dat be part of Florence county dose times."</p>
+
+<p>"I hear some peoples say dey knows dere such as ghosts, but I ain' never
+have no mind in dat line. All I know bout is what my mamma used to tell
+us big chillun when she want us to stay home wid de little chillun en
+mind em. Say dere was Raw Head en<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> Bloody Bones in de woods en if us go
+off, de child might set de house on fire. Such as dat was to make us
+stay home when dey was gone."</p>
+
+<p>"It just dis way, I think freedom a good thing for some people while it
+a bad thing for de ones dat don' have a knack to shuffle for dey own
+self. When freedom come, some of de colored people didn' know what
+freedom was en dey just hang around dey white folks en look to dey Massa
+for what dey get right on. Wouldn' get off en make nothin for dey own
+self. Dat how-come I think it better for some not to be free cause so
+much of worryations ain' good for peoples. Colored peoples never had to
+worry bout nothin in slavery time."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: William Henry Davis, age 72, ex-slave, Wahee section</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">of Marion Co., S. C.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Personal interview, August 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Aug. 24, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Sunday, Aug. 1, was my 82nd [<b>HW: 84th?</b>] birthday; so I was born in
+1853. De very day I come into de world I do not know, but soon my
+marster, Starke Sims, begun to train me. Dr. Bill Sims, Marse Stark's
+son, was a doctor when I was born. A younger son was called Hal. When
+Hal was a boy he said he was gwine off, and when he got to be a man, dat
+is what he done; yes sirree, he got scattered off.</p>
+
+<p>"Dr. Bill had done started to doctoring folks befo' I got into dis
+world. And first thing dat I recollects is how my marster teached me to
+address him. He addressed me as 'Elias, Johnny Elias'. I had to answer,
+'Sirs', and dat 'S' always had to be dar to please de marster. All of
+his slaves had to address him de same way. Sometimes we would answer,
+'Sirs Marster'.</p>
+
+<p>"All de things my marster teached me are still a great help to me. Dis
+younger generation does not have de quality dat we old niggers has,
+because dey refuse to take de teachings of dere parents and de good
+white folks. De main thing dat Marse teached his slaves was
+mannerableness. Dat I holds to dis day; 'specially to de white people. I
+allus tries to be mannerable to dem. Often I looks back on dat, but both
+white and colored is trying to do away wid dem things. Old training is
+de best, and I cannot fergit my manners. Never does raal folks fergit
+dere raising. Dats what shows up de quality in people. I likes quality
+in everything, and as soon as I sees strangers and hears dem talk and
+looks at dere action, I can tell how much quality dey got. Dat I sho
+can.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> I never is gwine to drap my raising, don't care what de style
+comes to. Dat's jest one thing dat my race and de white race, too, wants
+to do away wid. Dey don't hold up no manners and no ra'al raising.</p>
+
+<p>"De school teachers tells de chilluns to say yes and no to me. Dey tells
+dem to say de same thing to white folks. Den dey teaches de chilluns to
+Mr. and Miss de own race and to call white folks by dere names widout
+any handle to it. Dat ain't gwine to work, and any niggers dat has
+self-respect jest ain't gwine to call no white folks by dere name. If
+you doesn't respect other folks, why den other folks ain't gwine to show
+no respect fer you. Why some of my grand chilluns sets up and says 'yes'
+and 'no' to me 'stead of 'yes sir' and 'no sir'. But I is right here to
+tell you dat my own chilluns don't say 'no' and 'yes' to me. I is
+strived wid dem and dey knows how to answer proper to dere elders and to
+white folks. I ain't got no time fer dese school teachers dat tells de
+pupils to answer in no sech insulting ways as dat. I likes manners and
+widout manners folks ain't quality; don't make no diffuns 'bout what
+color dey is or how far dey is gone in de reading books. Young'uns
+saying 'yes' and 'no' is jest plain ugly. It suits me to meet nice
+folks, and when I finds dat dey ain't got mannerableness about dem, den
+I concludes dat dey jest ain't nice.</p>
+
+<p>"I gwine to dress up tonight and go to preaching at Mt. Zion. Dey done
+already started running meeting dar. I used to preach amongst dem at de
+big meetings, but I is retracting now.</p>
+
+<p>"My old marse low to us, 'You is free now, yes sir, you is sho free
+niggers now. You is gwine out into de world on your own. Let me tell you
+dis: If you be's mannerable you will allus come out more dan conqueror.'
+I was young den, and I did not know what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> 'more dan conqueror' meant
+den. I is larn't now what it means. Thank God, I does, fer his telling
+me dat. I lays to de fact dat de reason I is never been in jail is dat I
+allus had manners. Young'uns acts biggety and den dey lands right
+straight in de first jail dar is.</p>
+
+<p>"I sho never went to no war, but I worked at de house in de corn field
+a-raising corn fer de war hosses. I been in only two states, North and
+South Carolina. I travels jest according to common sense: lets other
+folks be my guide. I met up wid Indians; dey wanted to claim kin wid me,
+but I wouldn't claim kin wid dem. He tell me bout my high cheeks or
+something; den he low something 'bout my nose being long. Dey close
+thinking people, dem Indians is. Dey don't fergit nothing. He say he see
+I is mixed-up, but I never is knowed jest what he was driving at. I told
+him I was teached from de old generation, but dat dar wasn't narry drop
+of Indian blood in me. Cherokee Creek whar dat old Indian place is. Dey
+has all kinds of things to sell dat dey makes. I ain't no Indian and I
+does not feel dat way, no sir, not narry bit does I feel like I is a
+Indian.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother died when I was a wee baby. Never is had no brothers or
+sisters. She left me wid her marster dat owned her mother, Kissy Sims.
+Marse Starke helped my granny to raise me. Kissy come from Virginia. Her
+Pa let a man buy her and three other chilluns. Marse Starke raised dem
+all up and dats how dey got his name.</p>
+
+<p>"Dis here man standing here by me is Zack Herndon. We is de oldest
+niggers in Cherokee County dat I knows of. De other old ones is all dead
+now. Oh, you knows him, does you Zack?</p>
+
+<p>"Never did so awful much work when I was coming up. Dey was priming me
+and training me. When dey call my name, I allus come. Often I hid myself
+to see de bad niggers whipped. Never had no 'buse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> in my life. Marse
+didn't 'low nobody to look at his niggers when dey was being whipped,
+kaise he hated to have to let any of dem be 'bused. Marse Starke sho
+never whipped no one dat was good. He never let his overseers 'buse
+nobody neither. I does not 'member much 'bout his overseers. One named a
+Briggs, one a Bishop, one a Coleman and Alley Cook was de last one; I
+'members his name best.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Starke was a rich man. He had in de Quarter what was know'd as a
+chilluns' house. A nurse stayed in it all de time to care fer all de
+plantation chilluns. My granny 'Kissy' acted as nurse dar some. Aunt
+Peggy and aunt Ciller was two mo'. Ciller was de daughter of a King in
+Africa, but dat story been traveling ever since she got to dese shores,
+and it still a-gwine. All dese helped to nurse me. Dey fed us on milk,
+plenty of it. We had honey, lasses and lots of good things. When I was a
+little bit-a boy I had a big bowl to eat out of. And us chilluns et like
+hogs and got fat. We allus had fine food. My marster give me a biscuit
+sometime from his plate and I wouldn't have tuck 25&cent; fer it. He allus
+put butter in it or ham and gravy. He would say, 'Dat's de doctrine, Be
+kind!' Nobody never got no 'borious beating from our master's hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I been toiling here on dis earth fer a long time. De Lawd spared me to
+bring up a big race of chilluns myself. We is awful po' and ain't none
+of my chilluns got things as well as I had when my marster give it to
+me. My daughter and grand-daughter lives wid Mr. Nathan Littlejohn. He
+is rich. I stay in de house wid dem. Dey 'vides wid me dat what dey has.
+But dat ain't much. I has great-great-grand chilluns dat I ain't never
+seed. I have five chilluns living to my knowings. Last time I counted, I
+had 137 grand and great-grand chilluns. So you see I looks into de
+fourth generation of my own family.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Me and Old man Zack went to a hanging one time. Both of us clamed up
+into a tree so dat we could look down on de transaction from a better
+angle. De man, I means de sheriff, let us go up dar. He let some mo'
+niggers clamb up in de same tree wid us. De man dat was being hung was
+called Alf Walker. He was a mulatto and he had done kil't a preacher, so
+you see dey was hanging him fer his wickedness, sho as you born dey was.</p>
+
+<p>"While me and Zack up in dat tree a-witnessing dat transaction, peers
+like we become mo' acquainted wid one another dan we had ever been since
+us know'd one another.</p>
+
+<p>"Sheriff 'low'd, 'You is got only fifteen minutes to live in. What has
+you got to say?' Alf got up and talked by giving a lecture to folks
+about being lawful citizens. He give a lecture also to young folks who
+he 'low'd dat was not in sech condition as he was. He talking to dem
+'bout obeying de parents and staying at home. Me and Zack exchange
+glances and Zack 'low, 'Alf ain't never stayed at home none since he
+been big enough to tramp over de country and he up dar fixing to git his
+neck broke fer his waryness, and trying to tell us good folks young and
+old how us should act. Now ain't he something to be a-telling us what to
+do.'</p>
+
+<p>"Finally, Alf had done talked his time out and de sheriff 'low, 'Now you
+is only got two minutes, what does you want?'</p>
+
+<p>Alf hollered, 'Mr. Sheriff, lemme shake hands wid somebody.' Sheriff say
+everybody dat wishes to may shake his hand. Me and Zack stayed up in dat
+tree, but some of de niggers went up and shaked hands wid Alf.</p>
+
+<p>"Time out! You could-a heard a pin drap. I could hear my breath
+a-coming. I got scared. Zack looked ra'al ashy. Nobody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> on de ground
+moved, jest stayed ra'al quiet and still. Noose drapped over de man's
+neck and tightened. Some one moved de block from under his foots. Dat
+jerked him down. Whoop! All dem in de tree fell out 'cept me and Zack,
+dey was so scared. Alf Walker wasn't no mo'. Me and Zack sot up in dat
+tree like two cranks. Us sot dar as if it hadn't tuck no 'fect on us
+a-tall. All de other folks got 'fected. Zack tickled me when he saw me
+studying. He 'low 'you act awful hard-hearted.' I 'low, 'dat man telling
+us how to do jest now, and dar he is hanged. Us still a-setting in dis
+tree, ain't we? We ain't never wanted to see no mo' hangings, is we
+Zack?' Zack 'low dat we ain't.</p>
+
+<p>"Onc't de guide low'd to de President, 'You raises your hat to a
+nigger?' President 'low, 'I ain't gwine to let nobody be mo' polite dan
+I is.' He never let nobody have mo' sense dan he did either. Dat was
+Washington.</p>
+
+<p>"Me and Zack is gwine to tell you how it is. We is old and ain't no need
+fer old folks to try and fool. I is too shame to beg. I wants de
+pension. Is you gwine to tell me 'bout it? Dis de truth, I is took a
+chip fer food. If I could got to school and write fast as I can shake my
+fist, I'd be a-giving out dat pension right fast. I likes character and
+principle. I got a boy turned into 64 years. He got character and
+principle, and he still do what I say. I never put my mouth amongst old
+folks when I was young. Me and Zack often talks over old times."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Elias Dawkins (84), Rt. 1, Gaffney, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 8/20/37.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>June 3, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES OF EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<p>Upon learning where an ex-slave lived, the writer walked up to a house
+on Pickenpack street where two old colored men were sitting on the front
+porch. Asked if one of them was named 'Will Dill', the blacker of the
+two motioned to himself and said,</p>
+
+<p>"Come here, come in and have a seat," at the same time touching the
+porch swing beside him.</p>
+
+<p>He acknowledged that he lived in slavery days, "but was a small boy,
+walking and playing around at that time". His master was Zeek Long, who
+lived in Anderson County not far from "Three and Twenty Mile Creek' and
+used to ask him:&mdash;what the rooster said, what the cow said, what the pig
+said; and used to get a great deal of amusement out of his kiddish
+replies and imitation of each animal and fowl. From his own calculation,
+he figured he was born in 1862 in the home of his mother who was owned
+by Zeek Long. His father, also, was owned by the same master, but lived
+in another house. He remembers when the Yankees came by and asked for
+something to eat. When they had gotten this, they went to the corn crib,
+which was chock full of corn, and took the corn out, shucked it, and
+gave it to their horses. All the good horses had been hidden in the
+woods and only two or three old poor ones were left in the stables, but
+the Yankees did not take these for they only wanted good horses. He
+remembers seeing the patrollers coming around and checking up on the
+'niggers'. He had an uncle who used to slip off every night and go to
+see some colored girl. He had a path that he followed in going to her
+house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"One night Uncle Bob, he started to go see his gal, and it was pretty
+late, but he followed his path. There were some paterollers out looking
+for him, and t'rectly they saw him. Uncle Bob lit out running and the
+paterollers started running, too. Here they had it up and down the path.
+Uncle Bob, he knew there was a big ditch crossing the path, but the
+paterollers didn't know it; so when Uncle Bob got to the gully, he
+jumped right over it and run on, but one of the patrollers fell into the
+gully and broke his neck. After dat, Uncle Bob, he stayed in and kept
+quiet, for he knew the paterollers had it in for him."</p>
+
+<p>He asked the writer if he had ever heard a chicken talk. He said that he
+had, and described a scene at the house one day when a preacher was
+there. The chickens and guineas came around the house as usual to get
+their feed, but didn't get it. He "quoted" the rooster as saying; "Has
+the preacher gone yet?" A guinea hen answered, "not yet&mdash;not yet".</p>
+
+<p>He said that he often heard turkeys talk. They would ask each other
+questions, and another fowl would answer. He once heard a mule that was
+in the barn, say: "Lord! Lord! All I want is corn and fodder."</p>
+
+<p>Being told by the negro who was sitting beside him, that he did not
+believe animals and fowls could talk, he at once said:</p>
+
+<p>"Sure&mdash;roosters and gobblers can talk, one day there was a turkey hen
+and a lots of little turkeys scratching around a certain place on a
+hill, the little turkeys were heard to say, 'Please mam, please mam'. An
+old gobbler standing and strutting near, cried out, 'Get the hell out of
+here'. The turkey hen then moved to another place to feed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He said that he gets out in his porch early in the mornings and whistles
+to the birds, and that soon a large flock of birds are all around him.
+Offering to demonstrate his ability, he began to whistle in a peculiar
+way. Soon thereafter, two or three English sparrows flew into the yard
+from nearby trees.</p>
+
+<p>"See thar! See thar!" he said, pointing to them.</p>
+
+<p>"When the war was over," he continued, "we stayed on at Marster's
+plantation for some time. I grew up, and was always a fellow who liked
+hard work. I have railroaded, was a tree doctor, helped dig wells and
+did a lot of hard work. The white people was always pleased with my work
+and told me so. I went down a well once to help clean it out. It looked
+like to me that well was caving in above me; so I hollered for them to
+pull me out. When I got out, I told them I wasn't going down no wells
+any more unless somebody threw me in."</p>
+
+<p>He said that he had seen lots of wild turkeys when he was a boy. One day
+when he was going to get some "bacco" for his aunt, he saw a hen and a
+lot of little turkeys&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I run after the little wild turkeys but I never kotched a one. That old
+mother hen would fly from one limb in a tree to another limb in another
+tree and call them. They was the runningest things I ever saw. I nearly
+run myself to death but I never did get one."</p>
+
+<p>Every now and them, he said, one of the men on the plantation would
+shoot a wild hog and we would have plenty of meat to eat. The hogs ran
+wild in those days, he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I never saw a ghost," he said, "unless it was one night when we boys
+was out with our dogs 'possum hunting. The dogs treed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> a possum in a
+little scrubby tree. I was always a good climber; so I went up the tree
+to shake the 'possum out. I shook and shook but the 'possum would not
+fall out of the tree. I shook so hard that my hat fell off and I told
+the niggers not to let the dogs tear my hat. That was no skunk in the
+tree, 'cause we couldn't smell anything, but when I looked again at the
+'possum, or whatever it was, it got bigger and bigger. I scrambled down
+the tree right away, nearly falling out of it, but I wanted to get away.
+The dogs acted kinda scared; yet they would run up to the tree and bark.
+One old dog I had did not bark, he just hollered. We left the thing in
+the tree. I don't know what it was, but it warn't no 'possum, for I'd
+shook it out of the tree if it had been."</p>
+
+<p>In further discussing the subject of fowls in talking among themselves,
+he said that he had often noticed a rooster and some hens standing
+around in the shade talking.</p>
+
+<p>"The rooster will say something and the hens will listen; then answer
+him back, 'yes'. One day I heard a turkey hen say, 'we are poor, we are
+poor'. The old turkey gobbler said, 'well, who in the hell can help it.'
+Yes sir, they talk just like we do, but 'taint everybody can understand
+'em."</p>
+
+<p>He said that he had fifteen children by his first wife. He remained
+single for thirteen years after his wife's death, and never had any
+children by his second wife.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you reckon we'll ever get a pension in our old age?" he asked. "It
+seems to me they would give us old fellows something to live on, for we
+can't work. How can we live now-a-days? When a man has done good work
+when he was able, the country ought to take care of him in his old age.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I was a hand for hard work all my life. I was raised that way; but now,
+that I can't do nothing, it looks like the state ought to take care of
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"My father told me when I was sitting up to a gal and I told him I was
+gwinter marry her, 'Son don't you never cut that woman across the back,
+for as sure as you do, that cut will be against you on Judgement Day."</p>
+
+<p>"When I was laid up with the misery in my side, my feet swelled up and
+busted, and I had a awful hurting in my side and back. People wanted me
+to believe I had been conjured, but I did not believe it, and I told
+them I would eat all the stuff that a conjure man could bring. Anybody
+that believes in conjuring is just a liar. God is the only a person who
+can bring suffering on people. He don't want to do it, but it's because
+we do something He don't want us to when He makes people suffer. It is
+the bugger man that does it."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle" Will said that his father and mother were married by a
+"jack-leg" preacher who, when told that they wanted to get married, had
+them both to jump backwards and forwards over a broom. He then told them
+that they were man and wife.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Will Dill, 555 Pickenpack St., Spartanburg, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interviewer: F. S. DuPre, Spartanburg, Dist. 4 5/19/37</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>W. W. Dixon</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Winnsboro, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>THOMAS DIXON</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>EX-SLAVE 75 YEARS OLD.</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Tom Dixon, a mulatto, is a superannuated minister of the Gospel. He
+lives in Winnsboro, S. C., at the corner of Moultrie and Crawford
+Streets. He is duly certified and registered as an old age pensioner and
+draws a pension of $8.00 per month from the Welfare Board of South
+Carolina. He is incapable of laborious exercise.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born in 1862, thirteen miles northeast of Columbia, S. C., on the
+border line of Kershaw and Fairfield Counties. My mother was a slave of
+Captain Moultrie Gibbes. My father was white, as you can see. My mother
+was the cook for my white folks; her name was Malinda. She was born a
+slave of Mr. Tillman Lee Dixon of Liberty Hill. After she learned to
+cook, my marster bought her from her master and paid $1,200.00 for her.
+After freedom, us took the name of Dixon.</p>
+
+<p>"My mistress in slavery time was Miss Mary. She was a Clark before she
+married Marse Moultrie. I was nothing but a baby when the war ended and
+freedom come to our race. I lived on my marster's Wateree River
+plantation, with mother, until he sold it and went into the hotel
+business at Union, S. C.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother then went to Columbia, S. C., and I attended Benedict
+College. I became a preacher in 1886, the year of the earthquake. That
+earthquake drove many sinners to their knees, me amongst them; and, when
+I got up, I resolved to be a soldier of the cross, and every since I
+have carried the shield of faith in my left hand and the sword of the
+Word in my right hand.</p>
+
+<p>"The night I was converted, the moon was shining brightly. We was all at
+a revival meeting out from Blythewood, then called Dako, S. C. First, we
+heard a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> low murmur or rolling sound like distant thunder, immediately
+followed by the swaying of the church and a cracking sound from the
+joists and rafters of the building. The women folks set up a screaming.
+The men folks set up a hollering: 'Oh Lordy! Jesus save me! We believe!
+Come Almighty King!' The preacher tried to quiet us, but we run out the
+church in the moonlight, men and women crying and praying. The preacher,
+Rev. Charlie Moore, continued the services outside and opened the doors
+of the church, and every blessed soul come forward and joined the
+church.</p>
+
+<p>"I married Fannie Irwin, and God blessed us all the days of her life. My
+daughter, Maggie, married a Collins and lives in the Harlem section of
+New York City. My daughter, Sallie, lives also in Harlem, Greenville
+Village. Malinda, named for my mother, lives and works in Columbia, S.
+C.</p>
+
+<p>"On the death of my wife, Fannie, I courted and married the widow Lizzie
+Williams. The house we live in is her own property. She had two children
+when we married, a boy and a girl. The boy got killed at the schoolhouse
+two years ago. The girl is working in Columbia, S. C. I am a
+superannuated minister of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, and
+receive a small sum of money from the denomination, yearly. The amount
+varies in different years. At no time is it sufficient to keep me in
+food and clothing and support.</p>
+
+<p>"I have taken nothing to do with politics all my life, but my race has
+been completely transformed, in that regard, since Mr. Roosevelt has
+been President. Left to a popular vote of the race, Mr. Roosevelt would
+get the solid South, against any other man on any ticket he might run
+on. He is God Almighty's gentleman. By that, I mean he is brave in the
+presence of the blue-bloods, kind in the presence of the common people,
+and gentle to the lowly and despised Negro."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Folklore</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Dec. 1, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b> <b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: (Dorroh)</b>]</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I live wid my daughter in a four-room house which we rents from Doc
+Hunter. He got it in charge. My husband died several years ago.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy was Harvey Pratt, and he belonged to Marse Bob Pratt in
+Newberry. My mammy was Mary Fair, and she belonged in slavery to marse
+Simeon Fair. When dey married dey had a big wedding. Marse didn't make
+slave women marry men if dey didn't want to. Befo' my mammy and daddy
+married, somebody give a note to take to Mrs. Fair, her mistress.
+Mistress wouldn't tell what was in it, but daddy run every step of de
+way, he was so glad dey would let 'em marry.</p>
+
+<p>"Col. Simeon Fair had a big fish pond on his place down on de branch
+behind his house, and he had a milkhouse, too. (This is where the
+Margaret Hunter Park is).</p>
+
+<p>"My great-grandmother come from Virginia. She was bought by Marse Fair
+from a speculator's drove. Slaves had good places to live in and
+everything to eat. Old Marse sho cared for his slaves. He give 'em
+plenty of clothes and good things to eat. On Sundays dey had to go to de
+white folks' church and he made dem put on new clean clothes dat he give
+'em.</p>
+
+<p>"I was born about two years befo' freedom, and I lost my mammy right
+atter de war. I remember about de Ku Klux and Red Shirts.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything we had was made at home, or on marster's big plantation in
+de country. Marse told his son, Billy, befo' he died to take care of his
+niggers and see dat dey didn't want for nothing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Marse made de slaves work all day and sometimes on Saturdays, but he
+never let 'em work at night. Sometimes on de plantation dey had
+corn-shuckings and log-rollings; den dey give de hands good dinners and
+some whiskey to drink.</p>
+
+<p>"One old nigger had a weak back and couldn't work much, so he use to
+play marbles in de yard wid de kids most every day.</p>
+
+<p>"Slaves couldn't go away from de place unless dey had a pass from de
+marse to show de patrollers when dey caught dem out.</p>
+
+<p>"My daddy use to cook at de old Newberry Hotel. He was one of de finest
+cooks in dis part of de country. De hotel was a small wooden frame
+building wid a long front piazza. In de back was a small wooden two-room
+house dat servants lived in. Atter de war, de 'little guard house' stood
+jes' behind where de opera house now is.</p>
+
+<p>"Some of de slaves learned to read and write. Marse didn't keep dem from
+learning if dey wanted to. Niggers used to sing, 'I am born to die'. Dey
+learn't it from Marse Ramage's son, 'Jock' Ramage. He learn't 'em to
+sing it.</p>
+
+<p>"Atter de war, Marse told de niggers dey was free. Most of dem stayed on
+wid him and took his name. Slaves most always took de name of deir
+marsters.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother married at Thomas Pope's place, and he had old man Ned
+Pearson, a nigger who could read and write, to marry 'em. He married
+lots of niggers den. Atter de war many niggers married over agin, 'cause
+dey didn't know if de first marriage was good or not.</p>
+
+<p>"Marse Fair let his niggers have dances and frolics on his plantation,
+and on Saturdays dey danced till 12 o'clock midnight. Sometimes dey
+danced jigs, too, in a circle, jumping up and down. In dese times de
+young folks dance way into Sunday mornings, and nobody to stop 'em, but
+Marse wouldn't let his slaves dance atter 12 o'clock.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Everybody believed in ghosts. Nobody would pass by a graveyard on a
+dark night, and dese days dey go to cemeteries to do deir mischief, at
+night and not afraid. Doctors used to have home-made medicines. Old Dr.
+Brown made medicine from a root herb to cure rheumatism. He called it
+'rhue'. He lived in what is now called Graveltown. His old house has
+been torn down. He made hot teas from barks for fevers. He made a liquid
+salve to rub on for rheumatism.</p>
+
+<p>"When freedom come most of de slaves stayed on. Some man come here to
+make a speech to de slaves. He spoke in Marse Fair's yard to a big crowd
+of niggers and told dem to stay on and work for wages. When de Yankees
+come through here, dey stole everything dey could git deir hands on. Dey
+went in de house and took food and articles. Marse put guards around his
+house to keep dem out so dey wouldn't steal all de potatoes and flour he
+had for his slaves. Ku Klux went around de country and caught niggers
+and carpetbaggers. De carpetbaggers would hunt up chillun's lands, whose
+daddys was killed and try to take dem. Dat was when Judge Leheigh was
+here, and Capt. Bone was postmaster. Dey was Republicans, but when de
+Democrats got in power dey stopped all dat.</p>
+
+<p>"When I married John Dorroh I had a big wedding. We married at de Harp
+place in Newberry, jes' behind de big house, in a nigger cottage. White
+folks and niggers come. I was known amongst de best white families
+'cause I served as cook for dem. I was married by Rev. J. K. Walls, a
+nigger preacher from Charleston.</p>
+
+<p>"I think slavery ended through de work of Almighty God. My mother always
+said dat was it. My daddy left here and went to Memphis when I was five
+years old. He sent home $40. He was in de army wid Major James Baxter.
+He took care of de guns and things of de Major."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Isabella Dorroh (N, 75), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 11/22/27.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>May 31, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by: Martha Ritter</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I was born in Newberry County, S. C. below Prosperity on Capt. George
+De Walt's place. My daddy and mammy was Giles and Lizzie De Walt
+Downing. My daddy belonged to de Outz family, but changed his name to
+Downing&mdash;his master was Downing Outz. I was born about 1857. My mother
+had 16 children, some died young.</p>
+
+<p>I was a little chap when the war was here, but I remember de soldiers
+coming home from de war. De Yankees went through here and stole all the
+cattle and all the eats. De Ku Klux marched down de road dressed in
+white sheets. Freedom come and most of the slaves went away, but I
+stayed on wid Marse De Walt. Daddy worked wid Downing Outz for wages.
+When I was 15 years old I worked in de fields like grown folks. I never
+learned to read and write. We had no schools then for colored people. De
+only church we had after freedom come was a small "brush arbor" church.</p>
+
+<p>"We hunted rabbits, 'possums, squirrels, wild turkeys, doves and
+partridges there.</p>
+
+<p>"I joined de church when I was 20 years old, 'cause I thought times
+would be better for me then. Of course, I kind of back-slided little
+afterwards, but always tried to do right.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Laurence Downing (80), Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: G. Leland Sumer, Newberry, S. C.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, Jane 23, 1937</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>WASHINGTON DOZIER</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 90 years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Dis heah sho' Washington Dozier. Dat is wha' de hard time left uv him.
+I born en raise dere in Florence County de 18th uv December, 1847. Don'
+know 'xactly wha' my father name, but my mudder tell me he wuz name
+Dozier. My mudder wuz Becky en she b'long to ole man Wiles Gregg dere on
+de Charleston road. I hab two sisters en one brother, but not uv one
+father. I s'ppose brother Henry wuz me whole brother en Fannie en
+Ca'oline wuz jes me half sister."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dey ne'er hab so mucha sumptin, but I recollect dey make dey own
+produce den. Oh, dey lib very well. We call it good libin' at dat time.
+Coase de bedding de colored peoples hab wasn't much cause dey jes hab
+some kind uv home-made stuff den. We raise in a t'ree room house wha'
+hab floor on two uv de room. Hab house right dere on de Gregg
+plantation. Family went from age to age in dat day en time wid dey own
+Massa name. I 'member my gra'mudder was name Fannie Gregg. Now, I tell
+yuh how I 'count fa me hab de name Dozier, I jes s'ppose dat come from
+me father."</p>
+
+<p>"Hadder do some sorta work in dem days lak hoe corn en replant en so on
+lak dat, but ne'er didn't do no man work. Wuz jes uh half hand, dat is
+'bout so. Dey gi'e us plenty sumptin to eat den, but ne'er pay us no
+money. Coase dey didn't 'low us no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> choice uv wha' we eat at dat time.
+Hab plenty meat en corn bread en molasses mos' aw de time. Den dey le'
+us hab uh garden uv we own en we hunt possum many uh time en ketch fish
+too. Meat was de t'ing dat I lak mostly."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey gi'e us good clothes to put on us back wha' dey hab make on de
+plantation en in de winter, dey gi'e us good warm clothes. Jes wear
+wha'e'er de white folks gi'e us. Didn't take no 'ffect tall 'bout Sunday
+clothes."</p>
+
+<p>"Fust time I marry I hab uh very good wedding. Marry ole man Gurley
+daughter o'er in Florence County. Don' know 'xactly how ole I was den,
+but I c'n tell yah dis much, I wasn't in no herry to marry. Aw colored
+peoples hadder do to marry den wuz to go to dey Massa en ge' uh permit
+en consider demselves man en wife. I recollect dat we hab a very good
+wedding supper dere. I marry Georgeanna de second time en I hab four
+head uv chillun by me fust wife en four head uv chillun by me second
+wife. Ne'er couldn't tell how many gran'chillun I got."</p>
+
+<p>My Massa en Missus wuz mighty pious good people. Dey go to preachin'
+dere to Hopewell Presbyterian Chu'ch aw de time. De man wha' wuz de
+preacher dere den wuz name Frierson. De colored peoples go dere to dat
+same chu'ch en sot en de gallery. Yuh know dere spirituals hymns en dere
+reels. I c'n sing one uv dem dat I use'er sing in my slumberin' hours.
+It go lak dis:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When ole Gable go down on de seashore?</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He gwinna place one foot in de sea</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En de udder on de land,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En declare tha' time would be no more,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do?</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chillun, wha' yah gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chillun, wha' yah gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When ole Gable go down on de seashore?</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He gwinna place one foot in de sea</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En de udder on de land,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">En declare tha' time would be no more,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Now de angels sing dat to me in my slumberin' hour en dey sing it dat I
+might gi'e it to de libin' heah on dis earth. Well, I know right smart
+uv dem song cause accordin' to my 'sperience, de hymn book wha' to fence
+de human family in. I got ah good set uv lungs en I wuz de one wha' lead
+de flock den. Dere jes one grand reason why I can' sing right well dis
+a'ternoon, yuh is take me on de surprise lak."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I was jes uh chap in slavery time en I hadder stay dere home aw de time
+whey dere didn't no harm come 'bout me. Dey le' we chillun play marbles
+en ball aw we wanna den. Jes chunk de ball to one annuder o'er de house.
+Dat how we play ball in dem times. My white folks didn't do nuthin but
+stay home en go to chu'ch meetin's. Dey ne'er didn't punish none uv dey
+colored peoples en didn' 'low no udder people to do it neither. I
+couldn't tell yah how many slave dey own but dey hab more slave by de
+increase uv dey families. Dey hab so many dat some uv de time dey'ud
+hire some uv dem out to annuder plantation. Ne'er didn't see em sell
+none uv dey colored peoples. I know dis much, dat wuz uh right good
+place to lib."</p>
+
+<p>"I heared tell uv trouble 'tween de whites en de colored peoples, but
+dere wuzn't none uv dat 'round whey I stay. Dey say some uv de slave run
+'way fa bad treatment en stay in de woods. Didn't hab no jails den en
+when dey'd ketch em, dey'ud buff em en gag em en hoss whip em. Now, I
+ne'er see none uv dat but I heared tell uv it."</p>
+
+<p>"My Massa ne'er didn't work us hard lak. Coase uz de day' ud come, de
+hands hadder go up to de big house en go 'bout dey business, but dey
+al'ays knock offen early on uh Saturday evenin' en le' everbody do jes
+wha' dey wanna dere on de plantation. Ne'er didn't use no horn to wake
+dey colored peoples up en didn't wake em work en de big Christmus day en
+New Years' neither. Ne'er hab no udder holidays but dem two.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> My Massa
+gi'e aw his colored peoples uh big Christmus dinner to de white folks
+house. Jes hab plenty uv fresh meat en rice en biscuit en cake fa
+eve'ybody dat day."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey hab funeral fa de colored peoples den jes lak dey hab dese days
+'cept dey ne'er hab no preacher 'bout. Aw de slaves stop workin' fa de
+funeral en dey'ud jes carry de body en permit it to de ground uz wuz de
+usual t'ing dey do. Coase dey hab plenty singin' dere."</p>
+
+<p>"Dem t'ing wha' people call ghostes, dey is evil walks. I know dis much,
+de sperit uv de body travels en dat de truth sho' uz I libin' heah.
+Coase I ain' ne'er see none uv dem t'ing en I ain' scared uv nuthin
+neither. Don' ne'er pay no 'ttention to no black cat en t'ing lak dat.
+Ain' bother wid none uv dem charm neither. De peoples use'er hab dey own
+doc'or book en dey search dat en use wha' it say do. Dey ne'er use no
+me'icine tall den but calomel en castor oil en turpentine."</p>
+
+<p>"I sho' 'member when de fust gun shoot dere to Fort Sumter. Us fer uz I
+c'n recollect, it wuz in June. De Yankees come t'rough dere en to my
+knowin', dey 'haved very well. Jes ax my Massa fa sumptin to eat en dat
+wuz aw dey done. Dere sho' wuz uh rejoicing 'mongest some uv de colored
+peoples when dey tell em dey wuz free uz de white folks wuz. Some uv dem
+leab dey Massa plantation jes uz soon uz dey know'd dey wuz free, but we
+ne'er do dat. Jes stayed right on dere wid Mr. Gregg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> en work fa
+one-third uv wha' dey make. Coase de white folks furnish aw de wear en
+tear uv eve't'ing."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey ain' ne'er hab no schools fa de colored peoples no whey 'bout whey
+I stay 'fore freedom come heah. Won' long a'ter de war dat free schools
+wuz open up dere. It jes lak dis, I ain' bother wid dem schools mucha
+den, but I c'n read right smart. Jes ketch it uz I come 'long en wha' I
+kotch, I put dat to work. I is went to one uv dese night schools dey hab
+'bout heah not long gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Abraham Lincoln, I ain' ne'er see him, but I know he wuz de
+President uv de United States. Ain' ne'er see Mr. Jefferson Davis
+neither. Dey wus oppositionalist den, I sho' know dat."</p>
+
+<p>"It jes lak dis, I t'ink dis uh better day we lib in dese times. When we
+b'long to de white folks, we lib, en a'ter we wuz free we lib right on.
+I t'ink being free de best time to lib. Better to be loose den tied
+cause don' care how good yo' owner, yuh hadder be under dey
+jurisdiction. Ain' dat right?"</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Washington Dozier, age 90, colored, Pee Dee, Marion</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Co. (Personal interview, June 1937).</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project 1885-1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Spartanburg Dist. 4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Sept. 22, 1937</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Edited by:</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Elmer Turnage</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">[<b>HW: Duke</b>]</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Vinie Wilkins is my daughter's name dat live wid me. My son owns dis
+house and he keeps it up fer me and his sister. I's born on de bank of
+Cherokee Creek, but I jest 'members how many years I stayed dar. Atter
+Freedom had been a long time, we moved to Mr. Chesterfield Scruggs'
+plantation whar we share cropped. It was on de old Spartanburg road from
+here to Spartanburg.</p>
+
+<p>"I was purtty good-size chile when de Ku Klux come and tried to git my
+daddy. Dey whipped him; den he run off and stayed off fer over seven
+years. Dem Ku Klux was in all kinds of shapes, wid horns and things on
+dere heads. Dey was so scary looking dat I ain't never fergot dem. Dem's
+de awfulest 'boogers' I is ever see'd befo' or since. I was in de bed
+and so was Pa, but dey broke in our do' and got him. I kivvered up my
+head and did not make narry a sound. Dat's all dat I can recollect now."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Alice Duke (72), 401 Woods St., Gaffney, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 9/16/37</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, June 9, 1937</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>AUNT SILVA DURANT</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"I don' know 'xactly when I wuz born but I hear my white folks say dat I
+wuz born de fust (first) year uv freedom. I I c'n tell yuh dis much dat
+I wuz uh grown 'oman when de shake wuz. Aw de older peoples wuz at de
+chu'ch en ha' left us home to take care uv aw dem little chillun. Fust
+t'ing we is know de house 'gin to quiver lak. We ne'er know wha' been to
+matter en den de house 'gin to rock en rock en rock. We wuz so scare we
+run outer in de yard en eve't'ing outer dere wuz jes uh shaking jes lak
+de house wuz. We ne'er know wha' to do. Den we heared de peoples comin'
+from de chu'ch jes uh runnin' en uh hollerin'. Didn't nobody know wha'
+make dat. I tellin yuh jes lak dat wuz, de jedgment ain' ne'er been no
+closer come heah den when dat shake was."</p>
+
+<p>"My mudder wuz name Clorrie en she b'long to Miss Millie Gasque up de
+road dere. I born in Miss Millie yard en I stay dere till I wuz six year
+old. My pa say I wuz six year old. He been ole man Vidger Hanes en
+b'long to Mr. Wesley White o'er dere 'bout laughin 'fore freedom 'clare.
+A'ter dat we move on de hill en my pa hire me dere to Colonel Durant to
+wash dishes en help 'bout de kitchen. Den dey put me to do de washin' en
+I been uh washin' en uh washin' mos' e'er since. Dats de way I done till
+I ge' so I ne'er couldn't make it en den I hadder quit offen. Dat how
+come I hab aw dese pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> flowers. Miss Durant gi'e me aw dem dahlia
+wha' yuh see in dat yard right dere. Dat how I ge' wha' little bit uv
+money I hab dese day en time. Dem white folks up dere in town comes down
+heah en begs em from me."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey tell me some uv de peoples ge' 'long good en den some uv dem ge'
+'long bad back dere in slavery day. Don' care how good peoples is dere
+sho' be uh odd'un de crowd some uv de time. Dey say some uv de colored
+peoples'ud run 'way from dey Massa en hide in de woods. Den dey slip
+back to de plantation in de night en ge' green corn outer de white folks
+field en carry em back in de woods en cook em dere. I hear Tom Bostick
+tell 'bout when he run 'way one time. Say he use'er run 'way en hide in
+de woods aw de time. Den de o'erseer ketch him one time when he been
+come back en wuz grabblin' 'bout de tatoe patch. Say he gwinna make Tom
+Bostick stay outer de woods ur kill him 'fore sun up dat day. Tom say
+dey take him down 'side de woods en strip he clothes offen him. (I hear
+em say dere plenty people bury down 'side dem woods dat dere ain' nobody
+know 'bout). Den he say dey tie him to uh tree en take uh fat light'ud
+torch en le' de juice drap outer it right on he naked body. He say he
+holler en he beg en he ax em hab mercy but dat ne'er didn't do no good.
+He mock how de tar make uh racket when it drap on he skin. Yuh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> know it
+gwinna make uh racke't. Dat t'ing gwinna make uh racket when it drap on
+anyt'ing wha' fresh. Ain' yuh ne'er hear no hot grease sizzle lak?
+Yas'um, hear Tom Bostick tell dat more times den I got fingers en toe."</p>
+
+<p>"Den dey'ud hab sale en sell some uv de colored peoples offen to annuder
+plantation hundred mile 'way some uv de time. 'Vide man en he wife. Dey
+sho' done it. I hear pa tell 'bout dat. Make em stand up on uh stump en
+bid em offen dere jes lak dey wuz hoss. Pa say dey sell he brother Elic
+wife 'way wid de onlyest child dey hab. Ne'er didn't see dat wife en
+child no more."</p>
+
+<p>"Coase de le' de colored peoples visit 'round from one plantation to
+annuder but dey hadder hab uh ticke' wid em. Effen dey meet em in de
+road en dey ne'er hab dat ticke' somewhey 'bout on em, dey hadder take
+wha' follow. Ne'er 'low em to hab no udder paper 'bout em no whey. Effen
+dey see em wid uh paper, dey ax em 'bout it en effen it ne'er been uh
+ticke', dey mighty apt to gi'e em uh good t'rashin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Dey tell me some uv de colored peoples use'er take t'ing from dey
+Massa, but I ain' ne'er see em do none uv dat on my white folks
+plantation. Ne'er hadder take nuthin dere. Ge' 'nough meal en meat dere
+to de big house eve'y Friday to las' em aw t'rough de week. Reckon de
+ration wuz<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> more wholesome den in dat day en time cause dey take time en
+cook dey t'ing done. Hadder cook in de fireplace. Dat how dey done. I
+'member wha' good t'ings my ole mammy use'er cook in dat spider. Jes set
+it on de coals en keep uh turnin' it 'bout wid de handle. Dere ain'
+ne'er nuthin eat no better den dat ash cake she use'er make fa we
+chillun. Yuh ain' ne'er hear tell 'bout dat. Jes ster (stir) up uh nice
+hoecake en wrap it up in oak leaves wha' right sorta wet. Den yuh rake
+uh heap uv ash togedder en lay yuh hoecake on dat en kiver it up wid
+some more ash. Yuh le' it cook right done en den yuh take it up en wash
+it offen en it ready to eat. Us chillun lub dat den."</p>
+
+<p>"Annuder t'ing dat eat right smart in dem days wuz dat t'ing call big
+hominy. Dey jes ge' some whole grain corn en put it in de pot en boil it
+long time. Den dey take it offen de fire en pour lye water aw o'er it.
+Dey do dat to ge' de husk offen it. Soak ash outer de fire en ge' dat
+lye water. Den dey hadder take it to de well outer in de yard en wash it
+uh heap uv time to ge' dat lye outer it. A'ter dat dey season it wid
+salt en pepper en cook it annuder time. No 'mam, dey ne'er eat it wid no
+butter. Jes drap it in de grease wha' left in de pan a'ter dey fry de
+meat en make it right brown lak. Dat de way dey cook dey big hominy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Folks don' hab time to do t'ings in de right way lak dey use'er cause
+de world gwine too fas' dese day en time. Dese people comin' up 'bout
+heah dese days ain' gwinna ne'er quit habin' so mucha belly ache long uz
+dey ain' stop eatin' aw dem half done ration dey is eat. Coase de
+peoples wiser now but dey weaker. De peoples wuz more humble in dem
+days. When dey didn't hab no rain, dey ge' togedder en pray fa rain en
+dey ge' it too. I tellin' yuh peoples gotta work effen dey gwinna ge' to
+de right place when dey leab heah. Effen de peoples ne'er didn't go to
+chu'ch in dem days, dey stay home. Ne'er see chillun in de road on
+Sunday eve'y which uh way lak yunnah see em dese days. My pa say yuh
+mus' train up uh child in de way he oughta go en den effen dey stray
+'way, dey sho' come back a'ter while. I tellin' yuh de peoples ain' lak
+dey use'er wuz. Dey sho' wickeder en worser in dis day en time den when
+I raise up. Dey wuz more friendly den en do more favor fa peoples. It
+jes lak dis, I ain' gwinna do nobody no harm. Effen I can' do em no
+good, ain' gwinna do no harm en ain' gwinna 'buse em neither."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Aunt Silva Durant, colored, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Personal interview, May 1937.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Project, 1885-(1)</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Place, Marion, S. C.</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Date, October 21, 1937</b></span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>SYLVIA DURANT</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><b>Ex-Slave, 72 Years</b></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>"Well, I tell you just like it been. Dat was an unexpectin trip when you
+come here dat day en I wasn' thinkin bout much dat I had know to tell
+you. It been kind o' put me on a wonder."</p>
+
+<p>"You see, child, I never didn' see my grandfather cause when I was born,
+dey had done sold him away. I hear tell dat sometimes dey would take de
+wife from dey husband en another time dey would take de husband from dey
+wife en sell dem off yonder somewhe' en never didn' see dem no more
+neither. Yes, I sho know dat cause I hear my father speak bout dat
+plenty times. Yes, mam, dey sold my uncle's wife away en he never didn'
+see her no more till after freedom come en he done been married again
+den. Speculators carried my mother's first husband off en den she
+married again. Cose I was born of de second husband en dat ain' been
+yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"I hear talk bout dat didn' none of de colored people have nothin in
+slavery time en heap of dem wasn' allowed to pick up a paper or nothin
+no time. Often hear dem talk dat some of de niggers was freed long time
+fore dey know bout it. Hear dem say some white folks hold dem long time
+till dey could make out to get somethin for demselves. Don' think so.
+Don' think so. No, mam, don' think so. Dey might been intended for dem
+to get somethin when dey was freed, but I never learn of nobody gettin
+nothin. Cose I often heard my father say some white folks thought more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span>
+bout dey colored people den others en hope dem out more. Hear tell dat
+didn' none of dem have no clothes much den. No, mam, colored people won'
+bless wid no clothes much in dem days. I remember dey had to wear dese
+old big shoes, call brogans, wid brass all cross de toes here. Nobody
+don' wear nothin like dat now. Dey was coarse shoes. Some say plenty of
+de people had to go barefooted all de time in dem days. Reckon dat would
+kill de people in dis day en time. Couldn' stand nothin like dat. Yes,
+mam, see Tom Bostick walk right cross dat field many a day just as
+barefooted as he come in de world en all de ground would be covered over
+wid ice en snow. De people get after him en he say, 'Well, I had worser
+den dis to go through wid in slavery time.' Say he come up dat way en he
+never know no difference den dat he had thick shoe on his foot."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see, some of de white folks would spare dey colored people so
+much ration when dey knock off work on a Saturday to last dem till de
+next Saturday come. Hear tell dey give dem a peck of meal en a little
+molasses en a hog jowl en dat had to last dem all de week. Dem what use
+a little tobacco, give dem a plug of dat en give dem a little flour for
+Sunday. Didn' nobody have to work on Sunday en den dey would allow dem
+two days off for Christmas too. I tellin you bout how my white folks
+would do, but dem what had a rough Massa, dey just got one day. I hear
+dem say dey always had a little flour on Christmas. Don' know what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> else
+dey give dem, but won' nothin much. I know dat. Sho know dat."</p>
+
+<p>"I hear say two intelligent people didn' live so far apart en one never
+treat dey colored people right en being as dey wasn' allowed to go from
+one place to another widout dey had a ticket wid dem, dey would steal
+somethin en run away. Say de just man tell dat other man dat if he would
+feed his niggers right, dey wouldn' have no need to be stealin so much
+things. No'um, I does hate to tell dat. Cose dey say dey done it. Say de
+overseer would beat dem up dat never do what he tell dem to do mighty
+bad en wouldn' be particular bout whe' dey was buried neither. Hear talk
+dat dey bury heap of dem in a big hole down side de woods somewhe'. Cose
+I don' know whe' dat word true or not, but dat what dey tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oo&mdash;oo&mdash;yes, mam, dey sho whip de colored women in dem days. Yes, mam,
+de overseer done it cause I hear dem say dat myself. Tell dat dey take
+de wives en whip de blood out dem en de husband never didn' dare to say
+nothin. Hear dey whip some so bad dey had to grease dem. If de colored
+people didn' do to suit de white folks, dey sho whip dem. No, mam, if
+dey put you out to work, ain' nobody think dey gwine lay down under de
+bresh (brush) en stay dere widout doin dey portion of work. Yes, child,
+hear bout dat more times, den I got fingers en toes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, de times be worser in a way dese days. Yes, mam, dey sho worser in
+a way. De people be wiser now den what dey used to be, but dere so much
+gwine on, dey ain' thinkin bout dey welfare no time en dat'll shorten
+anybody days. Oh, honey, we livin in a fast world dese days. Peoples
+used to help one another out more en didn' somebody be tryin to pull you
+down all de time. When you is found a wicked one in dat day en time, it
+been a wicked one. Cose de people be more intelligent in learnin dese
+days, but I'm tellin you dere a lot of other things got to build you up
+'sides learnin. Dere one can get up to make a speech what ain' got no
+learnin en dey can just preach de finest kind of speech. Say dey ain'
+know one thing dey gwine say fore dey get up dere. Folks claim dem kind
+of people been bless wid plenty good mother wit. Den another time one
+dat have de learnin widout de mother wit can get up en seem like dey
+just don' know whe' to place de next word. Yes, mam, I hear dat often."</p>
+
+<p>"What I meant by what I say bout de wicked one? I meant when you found a
+wild one, it been a wild one for true. I mean you better not meddle wid
+one like dat cause dey don' never care what dey do. People look like dey
+used to care more for dey lives den dey do dese days. Dat what I meant,
+but you can weigh dat like you want to. You see, dere be different ways
+for people to hurt demselves."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my soul, hear talk bout dere be ghosts en hants, but I never didn'
+experience nothin like dat. Yes, mam, I hear too much of dat. Been
+hearin bout dat ever since I been in a manner grown, you may say. I hear
+people say dey see dem, but I ain' take up no time wid nothin like dat.
+I have a mind like dis, if such a thing be true, it ain' intended for
+everybody to see dem. I gwine tell you far as I know bout it. I hear
+dese old people say when anybody child born wid a caul over dey face,
+dey can always see dem things en dem what ain' born dat way, dey don'
+see dem. Cose I don' know nothin bout what dat is en I is hate to tell
+it, but I hear lot of people say dey can see hants en ghosts all time of
+a night. Yes'um, I hear de older people say dat, but I don' know whe' it
+true or no. I know I don' see nothin myself, but de wind. Don' see dat,
+but I feels it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my God, some people believe in dat thing call conjurin, but I didn'
+never believe in nothin like dat. Never didn' understand nothin like
+dat. Hear say people could make you leave home en all dat, but I never
+couldn' see into it. Never didn' believe in it."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mam, I see plenty people wear dem dimes round dey ankle en all
+kind of things on dey body, but never didn' see my mother do nothin like
+dat. I gwine tell you it just like I got it. Hear talk dat some would
+wear dem for luck en some tote dem to keep people from hurtin dem. I got
+a silver dime in de house dere in my trunk right to dis same day dat I
+used to wear on a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> string of beads, but I took it off. No, mam, couldn'
+stand nothin like dat. Den some peoples keeps a bag of asafetida tied
+round dey neck to keep off sickness. Folks put it on dey chillun to keep
+dem from havin worms. I never didn' wear none in my life, but I know it
+been a good thing for people, especially chillun. Let me see, dere a
+heap of other things dat I learn bout been good for people to wear for
+sickness. Dere been nutmeg dat some people make a hole in en wear it
+round dey neck. I forget whether it been good for neuralgia or some of
+dem other body ailments, but I know it won' for no conjurin."</p>
+
+<p>"Honey, pa always say dat you couldn' expect no more from a child den
+you puts in dey raisin. Pa say, 'Sylvia, raise up your chillun in de
+right way en dey'll smile on you in your old age.' Honey, I don' see
+what dese people gwine expect dey chillun to turn out to be nohow dese
+days cause dey ain' got no raisin en dey ain' got no manners. I say, I
+got a feelin for de chillun cause dey parents ain' stay home enough of
+time to learn dem nothin en dey ain' been know no better. Remember when
+my parents went off en tell us to stay home, we never didn' darsen to go
+off de place. Den when dey would send us off, we know we had to be back
+in de yard fore sunup in de evenin. Yes, child, we all had to be
+obedient to our parents in dat day en time. I always was sub-obedient
+myself en I never had no trouble nowhe'. Yes, mam, when we went off
+anywhe', we ax to go en we been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> back de hour dey expect to see us. Yes,
+mam, chillun was more obedient den. None of us didn' sass us parents.
+Won' raise dat way. I remember when I was young, I used to tote water en
+make fire to de pot for my mother to wash plenty times. Den dey learn me
+how to use a hoe en when I was married en left home, won' nothin strange
+to me."</p>
+
+<p>"No, mam, I didn' have no weddin when I was married, but everything was
+pleasant en turned out all right. Yes, mam, everybody don' feel so good
+leavin home, but I felt all right, I was married over dere in Bethel M.
+E. Church en served a little cake en wine dere home afterwards en dat
+ain' no weddin. Didn' have nothin but pound cake en wine. Had three
+plain cakes. Two was cut up dere home en I remember I carried one wid me
+over Catfish dere to de Reaves place."</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Source: Sylvia Durant, ex-slave, age about 72, Marion, S. C.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Oct., 1937.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South
+Carolina, Part 1, by Various
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South Carolina,
+Part 1, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South Carolina, Part 1
+       A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From
+       Interviews with Former Slaves.
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: July 26, 2006 [EBook #18912]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES VOL. XIV. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Janet Blenkinship and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by the
+Library of Congress, Manuscript Division)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+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
+
+
+WASHINGTON 1941
+
+VOLUME XIV
+
+SOUTH CAROLINA NARRATIVES
+
+PART 1
+
+
+Prepared by the Federal Writers' Project of the Works Progress
+Administration for the State of South Carolina
+
++-----------------------------------------------------+
+|              TRANSCRIBER NOTES:                     |
+|To reflect the individual character of this document,|
+|inconsistencies in formatting have been retained.    |
+|                                                     |
+|[HW:  ] denotes a handwritten note.                  |
++-----------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+  INFORMANTS
+
+
+  Abrams, M. E.                                                        1
+
+  Adams, Ezra                                                          5
+
+  Adams, Mary                                                          9
+
+  Adams, Victoria                                                     10
+
+  Adamson, Frank                                                      13
+
+  Andrews, Frances                                                17, 18
+
+  Arthur, Pete                                                        19
+
+
+  Bacchus, Josephine                                                  20
+
+  Ballard, William                                                    26
+
+  Barber, Charley                                                     29
+
+  Barber, Ed                                                          34
+
+  Barber, Millie                                                      38
+
+  Bates, Anderson                                                     42
+
+  Bates, Millie                                                       46
+
+  Bees, Welcome                                                       48
+
+  Bell, Anne                                                          51
+
+  Bevis, Caroline                                                     55
+
+  Black, Maggie                                                       57
+
+  Bluford, Fordon                                                     62
+
+  Boulware, Samuel                                                    65
+
+  Boyd, John                                                          70
+
+  Bradley, Jane                                                       74
+
+  Brice, Andy                                                         75
+
+  Briggs, George                                              80, 89, 93
+
+  Bristow, Josephine                                                  98
+
+  Broome, Anne                                                       104
+
+  Brown, Hagar                                             107, 112, 115
+
+  Brown, Henry                                                  118, 122
+
+  Brown, John C.                                                     127
+
+  Brown, Mary Frances                                           131, 134
+
+  Brown, Sara                                                   137, 141
+
+  Bryant, Margaret                                                   143
+
+  Burrell, Savilla                                                   149
+
+  Burton, C. B.                                                      152
+
+  Butler, George Ann                                                 153
+
+  Butler, Isaiah                                                     155
+
+  Butler, Solbert                                                    161
+
+
+  Cain, Granny                                                  166, 168
+
+  Caldwell, Laura                                                    169
+
+  Caldwell, Solomon                                                  170
+
+  Cameron, Nelson                                                    172
+
+  Campbell, Thomas                                                   176
+
+  Cannon, Sylvia                                                180, 187
+
+  Caroline, Albert                                                   197
+
+  Chisolm, Silvia                                                    199
+
+  Chisolm, Tom                                                       201
+
+  Cleland, Maria                                                     204
+
+  Clifton, Peter                                                     205
+
+  Coleman, Henry                                                     210
+
+  Coleman, Rev. Tuff                                                 216
+
+  Collier, Louisa                                                    218
+
+  Collins, John                                                      224
+
+  Corry, Bouregard                                                   227
+
+  Craig, Caleb                                                       229
+
+  Cunningham, Dinah                                                  234
+
+
+  Daniels, Lucy                                                      238
+
+  Davenport, John N.                                                 240
+
+  Davenport, Moses                                                   244
+
+  Davis, Charlie                                                     245
+
+  Davis, Charlie                                                     250
+
+  Davis, Heddie                                                      254
+
+  Davis, Henry                                                       260
+
+  Davis, Jesse                                                       263
+
+  Davis, Lizzie                                            267, 288, 293
+
+  Davis, Louisa                                                      299
+
+  Davis, Wallace                                                304, 306
+
+  Davis, William Henry                                               308
+
+  Dawkins, Elias                                                     313
+
+  Dill, Will                                                         319
+
+  Dixon, Thomas                                                      324
+
+  Dorroh, Isabella                                                   326
+
+  Downing, Laurence                                                  329
+
+  Dozier, Washington                                                 330
+
+  Duke, Alice                                                        336
+
+  Durant, Silva (Sylvia)                                        337, 342
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  From Field Notes.
+  District No. 4.
+  April 27, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (Negro).
+
+
+"Marse Glenn had 64 slaves. On Sat'day night, de darkies would have a
+little fun on de side. A way off from de big house, down in de pastur'
+dar wuz about de bigges' gully what I is ebber seed. Dat wuz de place
+whar us collected mos' ev'ry Sa'day night fer our lil' mite o' fun frum
+de white folks hearin'. Sometime it wuz so dark dat you could not see de
+fingers on yo' han' when you would raise it fo' your face. Dem wuz sho'
+schreechy nights; de schreechiest what I is ever witnessed, in all o' my
+born natu'al days. Den of cose, dar wuz de moonlight nights when a darky
+could see; den he see too much. De pastur' wuz big and de trees made
+dark spots in it on de brightest nights. All kind o' varmints tuck and
+hollered at ye as ye being gwine along to reach dat gully. Cose us would
+go in droves sometime, and den us would go alone to de gully sometime.
+When us started together, look like us would git parted 'fo we reach de
+gully all together. One of us see som'tin and take to runnin'. Maybe de
+other darkies in de drove, de wouldn't see nothin' jes den. Dats zactly
+how it is wid de spirits. De mout (might) sho de'self to you and not to
+me. De acts raal queer all de way round. Dey can take a notion to scare
+de daylights outtin you when you is wid a gang; or dey kin scare de
+whole gang; den, on de other hand, dey kin sho de'self off to jes two or
+three. It ain't never no knowin' as to how and when dem things is gwine
+to come in your path right fo your very eyes; specially when you is
+partakin' in some raal dark secret whar you is planned to act raal sof'
+and quiet like all de way through.
+
+"Dem things bees light on dark nights; de shines de'self jes like dese
+'lectric lights does out dar in dat street ever' night, 'cept dey is a
+scaird waary light dat dey shines wid. On light nights, I is seed dem
+look, furs dark like a tree shad'er; den dey gits raal scairy white.
+T'aint no use fer white folks to low dat it ain't no haints, an'
+grievements dat follows ye all around, kaise I is done had to many
+'spriences wid dem. Den dare is dese young niggers what ain't fit to be
+called darkies, dat tries to ac' eddicated, and says dat it ain't any
+spe'rits dat walks de earth. When dey lows dat to me, I rolls my old
+eyes at dem an' axes dem how comes dey runs so fas' through de woods at
+night. Yes sirree, dem fool niggers sees dem jes as I does. Raaly de
+white folks doesn't have eyes fer sech as we darkies does; but dey bees
+dare jes de same.
+
+"Never mindin' all o' dat, we n'used to steal our hog ever' sa'day night
+and take off to de gully whar us'd git him dressed and barbecued.
+Niggers has de mos'es fun at a barbecue dat dare is to be had. As none
+o' our gang didn't have no 'ligion, us never felt no scruples bout not
+gettin de 'cue' ready fo' Sunday. Us'd git back to de big house along in
+de evenin' o' Sunday. Den Marse, he come out in de yard an' low whar wuz
+you niggers dis mornin'. How come de chilluns had to do de work round
+here. Us would tell some lie bout gwine to a church 'siety meetin'. But
+we got raal scairt and mose 'cided dat de best plan wuz to do away wid
+de barbecue in de holler. Conjin 'Doc.' say dat he done put a spell on
+ole Marse so dat he wuz 'blevin ev'y think dat us tole him bout Sa'day
+night and Sunday morning. Dat give our minds 'lief; but it turned out
+dat in a few weeks de Marse come out from under de spell. Doc never
+even knowed nothin' bout it. Marse had done got to countin' his hogs
+ever' week. When he cotch us, us wuz all punished wid a hard long task.
+Dat cured me o' believing in any conjuring an' charmin' but I still
+kno's dat dare is haints; kaise ever time you goes to dat gully at
+night, up to dis very day, you ken hear hogs still gruntin' in it, but
+you can't see nothing.
+
+"After Marse Glenn tuck and died, all o' de white folks went off and
+lef' de plantation. Some mo' folks dat wuz not o' quality, come to live
+dare an' run de plantation. It wuz done freedom den. Wo'nt long fo dem
+folks pull up and lef' raal onexpected like. I doesn't recollect what
+dey went by, fat is done slipped my mind; but I must 'av knowed. But dey
+lowed dat de house wuz to draffy and dat dey couldn't keep de smoke in
+de chimney an' dat de doo's would not stay shet. Also dey lowed dat
+folks prowled aroun' in de yard in de night time a keepin' dem awake.
+
+"Den Marse Glenn's boys put Mammy in de house to keep it fer 'em. But
+Lawd God! Mammy said dat de furs night she stayed dare de haints nebber
+let her git not narr'y mite o' sleep. Us all had lowed dat wuz de raal
+reason dem white folks lef out so fas'. When Mammy could not live in dat
+big house whar she had stayed fer years, it won't no use fer nobody else
+to try. Mammy low dat it de Marse a lookin' fer his money what he done
+tuck and burried and de boys couldn't find no sign o' it. Atter dat, de
+sons tuck an' tacked a sign on de front gate, offering $200.00 to de
+man, white or black, dat would stay dar and fin' out whar dat money wuz
+burried. Our preacher, the Rev. Wallace, lowed dat he would stay dar and
+find out whar dat money wuz from de spirits. He knowed dat dey wuz tryin
+to sho de spot what dat money wuz.
+
+"He went to bed. A dog began running down dem steps; and a black cat run
+across de room dat turned to white befo' it run into de wall. Den a pair
+of white horses come down de stairway a rattling chains fer harness.
+Next a woman dressed in white come in dat room. Brother Wallace up and
+lit out dat house and he never went back no mo'.
+
+"Another preacher tried stayin' dar. He said he gwine to keep his head
+kivered plum up. Some'tin unkivered it and he seed a white goat a
+grinnin' at him. But as he wuz a brave man and trus' de Lawd, he lowed,
+'What you want wid me nohow?' The goat said, 'what is you doin' here.
+Raise, I knows dat you ain't sleep.' De preacher say, 'I wants you to
+tell me what ole Marse don tuck and hid dat money?' De goat grin and
+low, 'How come you don' look under your pillar, sometime?' Den he run
+away. De preacher hopped up and looked under de pillar, and dar wuz de
+money sho nuf. Peers like it wuz de one on de lef' end o' de back porch,
+but I jes remembers 'bout dat."
+
+Source: Mrs. M. E. Abrams, Whitmire, S. C.; told her by old "uncle"
+"Mad" Griffin, Whitmire, (Col. 82 yrs.) Interviewer: Caldwell Sims,
+Union, S. C. 2/25/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Henry Grant
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  REFLECTIONS OF EZRA ADAMS
+  EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD
+
+
+Ezra Adams is incapable of self-support, owing to ill health. He is very
+well taken care of by a niece, who lives on the Caughman land just off
+S. C. #6, and near Swansea, S. C.
+
+"My mammy and pappy b'long to Marster Lawrence Adams, who had a big
+plantation in de eastern part of Lancaster County. He died four years
+after de Civil War and is buried right dere on de old plantation, in de
+Adams family burying grounds. I was de oldest of de five chillun in our
+family. I 'members I was a right smart size plowboy, when freedom come.
+I think I must of been 'bout ten or eleven years old, then. Dere's one
+thing I does know; de Yankees didn't tech our plantation, when they come
+through South Carolina. Up in de northern part of de county they sho'
+did destroy most all what folks had.
+
+"You ain't gwine to believe dat de slaves on our plantation didn't stop
+workin' for old marster, even when they was told dat they was free. Us
+didn't want no more freedom than us was gittin' on our plantation
+already. Us knowed too well dat us was well took care of, wid a plenty
+of vittles to eat and tight log and board houses to live in. De slaves,
+where I lived, knowed after de war dat they had abundance of dat
+somethin' called freedom, what they could not wat, wear, and sleep in.
+Yes, sir, they soon found out dat freedom ain't nothin', 'less you is
+got somethin' to live on and a place to call home. Dis livin' on liberty
+is lak young folks livin' on love after they gits married. It just don't
+work. No, sir, it las' so long and not a bit longer. Don't tell me! It
+sho' don't hold good when you has to work, or when you gits hongry. You
+knows dat poor white folks and niggers has got to work to live,
+regardless of liberty, love, and all them things. I believes a person
+loves more better, when they feels good. I knows from experience dat
+poor folks feels better when they has food in deir frame and a few dimes
+to jingle in deir pockets. I knows what it means to be a nigger, wid
+nothin'. Many times I had to turn every way I knowed to git a bite to
+eat. I didn't care much 'bout clothes. What I needed in sich times was
+food to keep my blood warm and gwine 'long.
+
+"Boss, I don't want to think, and I knows I ain't gwine to say a word,
+not a word of evil against deir dust lyin' over yonder in deir graves. I
+was old enough to know what de passin' 'way of old marster and missus
+meant to me. De very stream of lifeblood in me was dryin' up, it 'peared
+lak. When marster died, dat was my fust real sorrow. Three years later,
+missus passed 'way, dat was de time of my second sorrow. Then, I 'minded
+myself of a little tree out dere in de woods in November. Wid every
+sharp and cold wind of trouble dat blowed, more leaves of dat tree turnt
+loose and went to de ground, just lak they was tryin' to follow her. It
+seem lak, when she was gone, I was just lak dat tree wid all de leaves
+gone, naked and friendless. It took me a long time to git over all dat;
+same way wid de little tree, it had to pass through winter and wait on
+spring to see life again.
+
+"I has farmed 'most all my life and, if I was not so old, I would be
+doin' dat same thing now. If a poor man wants to enjoy a little freedom,
+let him go on de farm and work for hisself. It is sho' worth somethin'
+to be boss, and, on de farm you can be boss all you want to, 'less de
+man 'low his wife to hold dat 'portant post. A man wid a good wife, one
+dat pulls wid him, can see and feel some pleasure and experience some
+independence. But, bless your soul, if he gits a woman what wants to be
+both husband and wife, fare-you-well and good-bye, too, to all love,
+pleasure, and independence; 'cause you sho' is gwine to ketch hell here
+and no mild climate whenever you goes 'way. A bad man is worse, but a
+bad woman is almost terrible.
+
+"White man, dere is too many peoples in dese big towns and cities. Dere
+is more of them than dere is jobs to make a livin' wid. When some of
+them find out dat they can't make a livin', they turns to mischief, de
+easy way they thinks, takin' widout pay or work, dat which b'longs to
+other people. If I understands right, de fust sin dat was committed in
+de world was de takin' of somethin' dat didn't b'long to de one what
+took it. De gentleman what done dis was dat man Adam, back yonder in de
+garden. If what Adam done back yonder would happen now, he would be
+guilty of crime. Dat's how 'ciety names sin. Well, what I got to say is
+dis: If de courts, now, would give out justice and punishment as quick
+as dat what de Good Master give to Adam, dere would be less crime in de
+land I believes. But I 'spose de courts would be better if they had de
+same jurisdiction as de Master has. Yes, sir, they would be gwine some
+then.
+
+"I tells you, dis gittin' what don't b'long to you is de main cause of
+dese wars and troubles 'bout over dis world now. I hears de white folks
+say dat them Japanese is doin' dis very thing today in fightin' them
+Chinamens. Japan say dat China has done a terrible crime against them
+and de rest of de world, when it ain't nothin' but dat they wants
+somethin' what don't belong to them, and dat somethin' is to git more
+country. I may be wrong, anyhow, dat is what I has heard.
+
+"What does I think de colored people need most? If you please sir, I
+want to say dis. I ain't got much learnin', 'cause dere was no schools
+hardly 'round where I was brung up, but I thinks dat good teachers and
+work is what de colored race needs worser than anything else. If they
+has learnin', they will be more ashame to commit crime, most of them
+will be; and, if they has work to do, they ain't gwine to have time to
+do so much wrong. Course dere is gwine to be black sheeps in most
+flocks, and it is gwine to take patience to git them out, but they will
+come out, just as sho' as you is born.
+
+"Is de colored people superstitious? Listen at dat. You makes me laugh.
+All dat foolishness fust started wid de black man. De reason they is
+superstitious comes from nothin' but stomp-down ignorance. De white
+chillun has been nursed by colored women and they has told them stories
+'bout hants and sich lak. So de white chillun has growed up believin'
+some of dat stuff 'til they natchally pass it on from generation to
+generation. Here we is, both white and colored, still believin' some of
+them lies started back when de whites fust come to have de blacks 'round
+them.
+
+"If you wants to know what I thinks is de best vittles, I's gwine to be
+obliged to omit (admit) dat it is cabbage sprouts in de spring, and it
+is collard greens after frost has struck them. After de best vittles,
+dere come some more what is mighty tasty, and they is hoghead and
+chittlings wid 'tatoes and turnips. Did you see dat? Here I is talkin'
+'bout de joys of de appetite and water drapping from my mouth. I sho'
+must be gittin' hongry. I lak to eat. I has been a good eater all my
+life, but now I is gittin' so old dat 'cordin' to de scriptures, 'De
+grinders cease 'cause they are few', and too, 'Those dat look out de
+windows be darkened'. My old eyes and teeth is 'bout gone, and if they
+does go soon, they ain't gwine to beat dis old frame long, 'cause I is
+gwine to soon follow, I feels. I hope when I does go, I can be able to
+say what dat great General Stonewall Jackson say when he got kilt in de
+Civil War, 'I is gwine to cross de river and rest under de shade of de
+trees'."
+
+[~HW: Ezra Adams, Swansea (about 10m. south of Columbia)~]
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1.
+  Folk Lore
+  District No. 4.
+  May 27, 1937.
+  Edited by: J. J. Murray.
+
+  EX-SLAVE STORIES
+
+
+"Aunt" Mary Adams was swinging easily back and forth in the porch swing
+as the writer stopped to speak to her. When questioned, she replied that
+she and her mother were ex-slaves and had belonged to Dr. C. E. Fleming.
+She was born in Columbia, but they were moved to Glenn Springs where her
+mother cooked for Dr. Fleming.
+
+She remembers going with a white woman whose husband was in jail, to
+carry him something to eat. She said that Mr. Jim Milster was in that
+jail, but he lived to get out, and later kept a tin shop in Spartanburg.
+
+"Yes sir, Dr. Fleming always kept enough for us Niggers to eat during
+the war. He was good to us. You know he married Miss Dean. Do you know
+Mrs. Lyles, Mrs. Simpson, Mr. Ed Fleming? Well, dey are my chilluns.
+
+"Some man here told me one day that I was ninety years old, but I do not
+believe I am quite that old. I don't know how old I am, but I was
+walking during slavery times. I can't work now, for my feet hurt me and
+my fingers ain't straight."
+
+She said all of her children were dead but two, that she knew of. She
+said that she had a room in that house and white people gave her
+different things. As the writer told her good-bye, she said, "Good-bye,
+and may the Lord bless you".
+
+  Source: "Aunt" Mary Adams, 363 S. Liberty Street, Spartanburg, S. C.
+          Interviewer: F. S. DuPre, Spartanburg, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Everett R. Pierce
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  VICTORIA ADAMS
+  EX-SLAVE 90 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"You ask me to tell you something 'bout myself and de slaves in slavery
+times? Well Missy, I was borned a slave, nigh on to ninety years ago,
+right down here at Cedar Creek, in Fairfield County.
+
+"My massa's name was Samuel Black and missus was named Martha. She used
+to be Martha Kirkland befo' she married. There was five chillun in de
+family; they was: Alice, Manning, Sally, Kirkland, and de baby, Eugene.
+De white folks live in a great big house up on a hill; it was right
+pretty, too.
+
+"You wants to know how large de plantation was I lived on? Well, I don't
+know 'zackly but it was mighty large. There was forty of us slaves in
+all and it took all of us to keep de plantation goin'. De most of de
+niggers work in de field. They went to work as soon as it git light
+enough to see how to git 'round; then when twelve o'clock come, they all
+stops for dinner and don't go back to work 'til two. All of them work on
+'til it git almost dark. No ma'am, they ain't do much work at night
+after they gits home.
+
+"Massa Samuel ain't had no overseer, he look after his own plantation.
+My old granddaddy help him a whole heap though. He was a good nigger and
+massa trust him.
+
+"After de crops was all gathered, de slaves still had plenty of work to
+do. I stayed in de house wid de white folks. De most I had to do was to
+keep de house clean up and nurse de chillun. I had a heap of pretty
+clothes to wear, 'cause my missus give me de old clothes and shoes dat
+Missy Sally throw 'way.
+
+"De massa and missus was good to me but sometime I was so bad they had
+to whip me. I 'members she used to whip me every time she tell me to do
+something and I take too long to move 'long and do it. One time my
+missus went off on a visit and left me at home. When she come back,
+Sally told her that I put on a pair of Bubber's pants and scrub de floor
+wid them on. Missus told me it was a sin for me to put on a man's pants,
+and she whip me pretty bad. She say it's in de Bible dat: 'A man shall
+not put on a woman's clothes, nor a woman put on a man's clothes'. I
+ain't never see that in de Bible though, but from then 'til now, I ain't
+put on no more pants.
+
+"De grown-up slaves was punished sometime too. When they didn't feel
+like taking a whippin' they went off in de woods and stay 'til massa's
+hounds track them down; then they'd bring them out and whip them. They
+might as well not run away. Some of them never come back a-tall, don't
+know what become of them. We ain't had no jail for slaves; never ain't
+see none in chains neither. There was a guard-house right in de town but
+us niggers never was carried to it. You ask me if I ever see a slave
+auctioned off? Yes ma'am, one time. I see a little girl 'bout ten years
+old sold to a soldier man. Dis soldier man was married and didn't had no
+chillun and he buy dis little girl to be company for his wife and to
+help her wid de house work.
+
+"White folks never teach us to read nor write much. They learned us our
+A, B, C's, and teach us to read some in de testament. De reason they
+wouldn't teach us to read and write, was 'cause they was afraid de
+slaves would write their own pass and go over to a free county. One old
+nigger did learn enough to write his pass and got 'way wid it and went
+up North.
+
+"Missus Martha sho' did look after de slaves good when they was sick. Us
+had medicine made from herbs, leaves and roots; some of them was
+cat-nip, garlic root, tansy, and roots of burdock. De roots of burdock
+soaked in whiskey was mighty good medicine. We dipped asafetida in
+turpentine and hung it 'round our necks to keep off disease.
+
+"Befo' de Yankees come thru, our peoples had let loose a lot of our
+hosses and de hosses strayed over to de Yankee side, and de Yankee men
+rode de hosses back over to our plantation. De Yankees asked us if we
+want to be free. I never say I did; I tell them I want to stay wid my
+missus and they went on and let me alone. They 'stroyed most everything
+we had 'cept a little vittles; took all de stock and take them wid them.
+They burned all de buildings 'cept de one de massa and missus was livin'
+in.
+
+"It wasn't long after de Yankees went thru dat our missus told us dat we
+don't b'long to her and de massa no more. None of us left dat season. I
+got married de next year and left her. I like being free more better.
+Any niggers what like slavery time better, is lazy people dat don't want
+to do nothing.
+
+"I married Fredrick Adams; he used to b'long to Miss Tenny Graddick but
+after he was freed he had to take another name. Mr. Jess Adams, a good
+fiddler dat my husband like to hang 'round, told him he could take his
+name if he wanted to and dats how he got de name of Adams. Us had four
+chillun; only one livin', dat Lula. She married John Entzminger and got
+several chillun. My gran'chillun a heap of comfort to me."
+
+  Home Address:
+  Colonial Heights,
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  FRANK ADAMSON
+  EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"I 'members when you was barefoot at de bottom; now I see you a settin'
+dere, gittin' bare at de top, as bare as de palm of my hand.
+
+"I's been 'possum huntin' wid your pappy, when he lived on de Wateree,
+just after de war. One night us got into tribulation, I tells you! 'Twas
+'bout midnight when de dogs make a tree. Your pappy climb up de tree,
+git 'bout halfway up, heard sumpin' dat once you hears it you never
+forgits, and dats de rattlin' of de rattles on a rattle snake's tail. Us
+both 'stinctly hear dat sound! What us do? Me on de ground, him up de
+tree, but where de snake? Dat was de misery, us didn't know. Dat snake
+give us fair warnin' though! Marster Sam (dats your pa) 'low: 'Frank,
+ease down on de ground; I'll just stay up here for a while.' I lay on
+them leaves, skeered to make a russle. Your pa up de tree skeered to go
+up or down! Broad daylight didn't move us. Sun come up, he look all
+'round from his vantage up de tree, then come down, not 'til then, do I
+gits on my foots.
+
+"Then I laugh and laugh and laugh, and ask Marster Sam how he felt.
+Marster Sam kinda frown and say: 'Damn I feels like hell! Git up dat
+tree! Don't you see dat 'possum up dere?' I say: 'But where de snake,
+Marster?' He say: 'Dat rattler done gone home, where me and you and dat
+'possum gonna be pretty soon!'
+
+"I b'longs to de Peays. De father of them all was, Korshaw Peay. My
+marster was his son, Nicholas; he was a fine man to just look at. My
+mistress was always tellin' him 'bout how fine and handsome-like he was.
+He must of got use to it; howsomever, marster grin every time she talk
+like dat.
+
+"My pappy was bought from de Adamson peoples; they say they got him off
+de ship from Africa. He sho' was a man; he run all de other niggers 'way
+from my mammy and took up wid her widout askin' de marster. Her name was
+Lavinia. When us got free, he 'sisted on Adamson was de name us would go
+by. He name was William Adamson. Yes sir! my brothers was: Justus,
+Hillyard, and Donald, and my sisters was, Martha and Lizzettie.
+
+"'Deed I did work befo' freedom. What I do? Hoed cotton, pick cotton,
+'tend to calves and slop de pigs, under de 'vision of de overseer. Who
+he was? First one name Mr. Cary, he a good man. Another one Mr. Tim
+Gladden, burn you up whenever he just take a notion to pop his whip. Us
+boys run 'round in our shirt tails. He lak to see if he could lift de
+shirt tail widout techin' de skin. Just as often as not, though, he tech
+de skin. Little boy holler and Marster Tim laugh.
+
+"Us live in quarters. Our beds was nailed to de sides of de house. Most
+of de chillun slept on pallets on de floor. Got water from a big spring.
+
+"De white folks 'tend to you all right. Us had two doctors, Doctor
+Carlisle and Doctor James.
+
+"I see some money, but never own any then. Had plenty to eat: Meat,
+bread, milk, lye hominy, horse apples, turnips, collards, pumpkins, and
+dat kind of truck.
+
+"Was marster rich? How come he wasn't? He brag his land was ten miles
+square and he had a thousand slaves. Them poor white folks looked up to
+him lak God Almighty; they sho' did. They would have stuck their hands
+in de fire if he had of asked them to do it. He had a fish pond on top
+of de house and terraces wid strawberries, all over de place. See them
+big rock columns down dere now? Dats all dats left of his grandness and
+greatness. They done move de whippin' post dat was in de backyard. Yes
+sah, it was a 'cessity wid them niggers. It stood up and out to 'mind
+them dat if they didn't please de master and de overseer, they'd hug dat
+post, and de lend of dat whip lash gwine to flip to de hide of dat back
+of their's.
+
+"I ain't a complainin'. He was a good master, bestest in de land, but he
+just have to have a whippin' post, 'cause you'll find a whole passle of
+bad niggers when you gits a thousand of them in one flock.
+
+"Screech owl holler? Women and men turn socks and stockings wrong side
+out quick, dat they did, do it now, myself. I's black as a crow but I's
+got a white folks heart. Didn't ketch me foolin' 'round wid niggers in
+radical times. I's as close to white folks then as peas in a pod. Wore
+de red shirt and drunk a heap of brandy in Columbia, dat time us went
+down to General Hampton into power. I 'clare I hollered so loud goin'
+'long in de procession, dat a nice white lady run out one of de houses
+down dere in Columbia, give me two biscuits and a drum stick of chicken,
+patted me on de shoulder, and say: 'Thank God for all de big black men
+dat can holler for Governor Hampton as loud as dis one does.' Then I
+hollers some more for to please dat lady, though I had to take de half
+chawed chicken out dis old mouth, and she laugh 'bout dat 'til she
+cried. She did!
+
+"Well, I'll be rockin' 'long balance of dese days, a hollerin' for Mr.
+Roosevelt, just as loud as I holler then for Hampton.
+
+"My young marsters was: Austin, Tom, and Nicholas; they was all right
+'cept they tease you too hard maybe some time, and want to mix in wid de
+'fairs of slave 'musements.
+
+"Now what make you ask dat? Did me ever do any courtin'? You knows I
+did. Every he thing from a he king down to a bunty rooster gits cited
+'bout she things. I's lay wake many nights 'bout sich things. It's de
+nature of a he, to take after de she. They do say dat a he angel ain't
+got dis to worry 'bout.
+
+"I fust courted Martha Harrison. Us marry and jine de church. Us had
+nine chillun; seven of them livin'. A woman can't stand havin' chillun,
+lak a man. Carryin', sucklin', and 'tending to them wore her down, dat,
+wid de malaria of de Wateree brung her to her grave.
+
+"I sorrow over her for weeks, maybe five months, then I got to thinking
+how I'd pair up wid dis one and dat one and de other one. Took to
+shavin' again and gwine to Winnsboro every Saturday, and different
+churches every Sunday. I hear a voice from de choir, one Sunday, dat
+makes me sit up and take notice of de gal on de off side in front. Well
+sir! a spasm of fright fust hit me dat I might not git her, dat I was
+too old for de likes of her, and dat some no 'count nigger might be in
+de way. In a few minutes I come to myself. I rise right up, walked into
+dat choir, stand by her side, and wid dis voice of mine, dat always
+'tracts 'tention, jined in de hymn and out sung them all. It was easy
+from dat time on.
+
+"I marry Kate at de close of dat revival. De day after de weddin', what
+you reckon? Don't know? Well, after gittin' breakfas' she went to de
+field, poke 'round her neck, basket on her head and picked two hundred
+pounds of cotton. Dats de kind of woman she is."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1815-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  June 10, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Newberry County, S. C., near Belfast, about 1854. I was a
+slave of John Wallace. I was the only child, and when a small child, my
+mother was sold to Joe Liggins by my old master, Bob Adams. It is said
+that the old brick house where the Wallaces lived was built by a
+Eichleberger, but Dr. John Simpson lived there and sold it to Mr.
+Wallace. In the attic was an old skeleton which the children thought
+bewitched the house. None of them would go upstairs by themselves. I
+suppose old Dr. Simpson left it there. Sometimes later, it was taken out
+and buried. Marse Wallace had many slaves and kept them working, but he
+was not a strict master.
+
+"I married Allen Andrews after the war. He went to the war with his
+master. He was at Columbia with the Confederate troops when Sherman
+burnt the place. Some of them, my husband included, was captured and
+taken to Richmond Va. They escaped and walked back home, but all but
+five or six fell out or died.
+
+"My young master, Editor Bill Wallace, a son of Marse John, was a
+soldier. When he was sick at home, I fanned the flies from him with a
+home-made fan of peacock feathers, sewed to a long cane.
+
+"After the war, the 'bush-whackers', called Ku Klux, rode there.
+Preacher Pitts' brother was one. They went to negro houses and killed
+the people. They wore caps over the head and eyes, but no long white
+gowns. An old muster ground was above there about three miles, near what
+is now Wadsworth school."
+
+  Source: Frances Andrews (col. 83), Newberry, S. C
+          Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  Sept. 22, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I live in a comfortable two-room cottage which my son owns. I can't do
+much work except a little washing and ironing. My grandchildren live
+with me. My other children help me a little when I need it. I heard
+about the 40 acres of land and a mule the ex-slaves would get after the
+war, but I didn't pay any attention to it. They never got anything. I
+think this was put out by the Yankees who didn't care about much 'cept
+getting money for themselves.
+
+"I come from the Indian Creek section of Newberry County. After about
+1880 when things got natural, some of the slaves from this section
+rented small one-horse farms and made their own money and living. Some
+would rent small tracts of land on shares, giving the landlord one-half
+the crop for use of the land.
+
+"Everything is changed so much. I never learned to read and write and
+all I know is what I heard in old times. But I think the younger
+generation of negroes is different from what they used to be. They go
+where they want to and do what they want to and don't pay much attention
+to old folks anymore.
+
+"My mother's mother come from Virginia and my mother's father was born
+and raised in this county. I don't remember anything about the Nat
+Turner Rebellion, and never heard anything about it. We never had any
+slave up-risings in our neighborhood."
+
+  Source: Frances Andrews (83), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 8/11/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  District No. 4
+  May 27, 1937.
+  Edited by
+  R. V. Williams
+  [~HW: Lambrigh~]
+
+  Folk Lore: Folk Tales (negro)
+
+
+"I was 'bout nine year ole when de big war broke loose. My pa and ma
+'longed to de Scotts what libbed in Jonesville Township. When I got big
+'nough to work, I was gib to de youngest Scott boy. Soon atter dis,
+Sherman come through Union County. No ma'm, I nebber seed Sherman but I
+seed some of his soldiers. Dat's de time I run off in de wood and not
+narry a soul knowed whar I was till de dus' had done settled in de big
+road.
+
+"Every Sunday, Marse Scott sent us to church in one of his waggins.
+White folks rid to church in de buggy and Marse went on de big saddle
+hoss. 'Bout dis time, Marse Scott went to Columbia to git coffee and
+sugar. He stay mos' two weeks, kaize he drive two fine hosses to de
+buggy 'long wid a long hind end to fetch things to and fro in. De roads
+was real muddy and de hosses haf to res' ever night. Den in Columbia, he
+would have a little 'joyment befo' he come back home."
+
+Source: Miss Dorothy Lambright, W. Main St., Union, S. C. (Story told
+her by "Uncle Peter" Arthur.) Information by Caldwell Sims, Union, S.
+C.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, January 4, 1938
+  No. of Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  JOSEPHINE BACCHUS
+  Ex-Slave, 75-80 Years
+
+
+"No, my mercy God, I don' know not one thought to speak to you bout.
+Seems like, I does know your face, but I been so sick all de year dat I
+can' hardly remember nothin. Yes, sweetheart, I sho caught on to what
+you want. Oh, I wishes I did know somethin bout dat old time war cause I
+tell you, if I been know anything, I would sho pour it out to you. I got
+burn out here de other day en I ain' got near a thing left me, but a
+pair of stockings en dat old coat dere on de bed. Dat how-come I stayin
+here wid Miss Celia. My husband, he dead en she took me in over here for
+de present. No'um, I haven't never had a nine months child. Reckon dat
+what ailin me now. Bein dat I never had no mother to care for me en give
+me a good attention like, I caught so much of cold dat I ain' never been
+safe in de family way. Yes, mam, I had my leg broke plenty times, but I
+ain' never been able to jump de time. Lord, I got a misery in my back
+dere. I hope it ain' de pneumonias."
+
+"Well, you see, I couldn' tell you nothin bout my mother cause I never
+didn' know nothin bout my mother. My Jesus, my brother tell bout when
+dey had my mother layin out on de coolin board, I went in de room whe'
+she was en axed her for somethin to eat en pushed her head dat way. You
+know, I wouldn' touch my hand to do nothin like dat, but I never know.
+Dat it, de coolin board, dat what dey used to have to lay all de dead
+people on, but dis day en time, de undertaker takes dem en fixes dem up
+right nice, I say. I tellin you, I ain' had no sense since I lost my
+people. Sometimes, I axes de Lord what he keepin me here for anyhow.
+Yes, mam, dat does come to me often times in de night. Oh, it don' look
+like I gwine ever get no better in dis life en if I don', I just prays
+to God to be saved. Yes, Lord, I prays to be lifted to a restful home."
+
+"Just like as I been hear talk, some of de people fare good in slavery
+time en some of dem fare rough. Dat been accordin to de kind of task
+boss dey come up under. Now de poor colored people in slavery time, dey
+give dem very little rest en would whip some of dem most to death.
+Wouldn' none of dem daresen to go from one plantation to another widout
+dey had a furlough from dey boss. Yes, mam, if dey been catch you comin
+back widout dat walkin paper de boss had give you, great Jeruseleum, you
+would sho catch de devil next mornin. My blessed a mercy, hear talk dey
+spill de poor nigger's blood awful much in slavery time. Hear heap of
+dem was free long time fore dey been know it cause de white folks, dey
+wanted to keep dem in bondage. Oh, my Lord, dey would cut dem so hard
+till dey just slash de flesh right off dem. Yes, mam, dey call dat thing
+dey been whip dem wid de cat o' nine tail. No, darlin, I hear talk it
+been made out of pretty leather plaited most all de way en den all dat
+part down to de bottom, dey just left it loose to do de cuttin wid. Yes,
+honey, dem kind of whips was made out of pretty leather like one of dese
+horse whips. Yes, mam, dat been how it was in slavery time."
+
+"Yankees! Oh, I hear folks speak bout de Yankees plunderin through de
+country plenty times. Hear bout de Yankees gwine all bout stealin white
+people silver. Say, everywhe' dey went en found white folks wid silver,
+dey would just clean de place up. Dat de blessed truth, too, cause dat
+exactly what I hear bout dem."
+
+"Lord, pray Jesus, de white people sho been mighty proud to see dey
+niggers spreadin out in dem days, so dey tell me. Yes, mam, dey was glad
+to have a heap of colored people bout dem cause white folks couldn' work
+den no more den dey can work dese days like de colored people can.
+Reckon dey love to have dey niggers back yonder just like dey loves to
+have dem dese days to do what dey ain' been cut out to do. You see, dey
+would have two or three women on de plantation dat was good breeders en
+dey would have chillun pretty regular fore freedom come here. You know,
+some people does be right fast in catchin chillun. Yes'um, dey must been
+bless wid a pile of dem, I say, en every colored person used to follow
+up de same name as dey white folks been hear to."
+
+"No'um, I never didn' go to none of dem cornshuckin en fodder pullin en
+all dem kind of thing. Reckon while dey was at de cornshuckin, I must
+been somewhe' huntin somethin to eat. Den dem kind of task was left to
+de men folks de most of de time cause it been so hot, dey was force to
+strip to do dat sort of a job."
+
+"Lord, I sho remembers dat earth shake good as anything. When it come on
+me, I was settin down wid my foots in a tub of water. Yes, my Lord, I
+been had a age on me in de shake. I remember, dere been such a shakin
+dat evenin, it made all de people feel mighty queer like. It just come
+in a tremble en first thing I know, I felt de difference in de crack of
+de house. I run to my sister Jessie cause she had been live in New York
+en she was well acquainted wid dat kind of gwine on. She say, 'Josie,
+dis ain' nothin but dem shake I been tellin you bout, but dis de first
+time it come here en you better be a prayin.' En, honey, everything
+white en colored was emptied out of doors dat night. Lord, dey was
+scared. Great Jeruseleum! De people was scared everywhe'. Didn' nobody
+know what to make of it. I tellin you, I betcha I was 30 years old in de
+shake."
+
+"Now, I guess time you get done gettin up all dem memorandums, you gwine
+have a pile. I tell you, if you keep on, you sho gwine have a bale cause
+dere a lot of slavery people is spring up till now. I ought to could
+fetch back more to speak to you bout, but just like I been tell you, I
+wasn' never cared for by a mother en I is caught on to a heap of
+roughness just on account dat I ain' never had a mother to have a care
+for me."
+
+"Oh, de people never didn' put much faith to de doctors in dem days.
+Mostly, dey would use de herbs in de fields for dey medicine. Dere two
+herbs, I hear talk of. Dey was black snake root en Sampson snake root.
+Say, if a person never had a good appetite, dey would boil some of dat
+stuff en mix it wid a little whiskey en rock candy en dat would sho give
+dem a sharp appetite. See, it natural cause if you take a tablespoon of
+dat bitter medicine three times a day like a person tell you, it bound
+to swell your appetite. Yes, mam, I know dat a mighty good mixture."
+
+"Oh, my Lord, child, de people was sho wiser in olden times den what dey
+be now. Dey been have all kind of signs to forecast de times wid en dey
+been mighty true to de word, too. Say, when you hear a cow low en cry so
+mournful like, it ain' gwine be long fore you hear tell of a death."
+
+"Den dere one bout de rain. Say, sometimes de old rain crow stays in de
+air en hollers en if you don' look right sharp, it gwine rain soon. Call
+him de rain crow. He hollers mostly like dis, 'Goo-oop, goo-oop.' Like
+dat."
+
+"De people used to have a bird for cold weather, too. Folks say, 'Don'
+you hear dat cold bird? Look out, it gwine be cold tomorrow.' De cold
+bird, he a brown bird. If you can see him, he a fine lookin bird, too.
+Yes'um, right large en strong lookin, but don' nobody hardly ever see
+him dese days."
+
+"En I reckon you hear talk bout dis one. Say, not to wash on de first
+day of de New Year cause if you do, you will wash some of your family
+out de pot. Say, somebody will sho die. Dat right, too. Den if possible,
+must boil some old peas on de first day of de New Year en must cook some
+hog jowl in de pot wid dem. Must eat some of it, but don' be obliged to
+eat it all. En ought to have everything clean up nicely so as to keep
+clean all de year. Say, must always put de wash out on de line to be
+sure de day fore New Years en have all your garments clean."
+
+"What my ideas bout de young folks dese days? Well, dey young folks en
+dey ain' young folks, I say. Cose I don' bother up wid dem none, but I
+think wid my own weak judgment, dey quite different from when I come
+along. Folks is awful funny dis day en time to my notion. Don' care what
+people see dem do no time. I sho think dey worser den what dey used to
+be. De way I say dey worser, I used to have to be back at such en such a
+time, if I went off, but now dey go anytime dey want to en dey comes
+back anytime dey want to. I sho think dey worser. De fact of it, I know
+dey worser."
+
+  Source: Josephine Bacchus, colored, age 75-80, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  June 14, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born near Winnsboro, S. C., Fairfield County. I was twelve years
+old the year the Confederate war started. My father was John Ballard and
+my mother was Sallie Ballard. I had several brothers and sisters. We
+belonged to Jim Aiken, a large landowner at Winnsboro. He owned land on
+which the town was built. He had seven plantations. He was good to us
+and give us plenty to eat, and good quarters to live in. His mistress
+was good, too; but one of his sons, Dr. Aiken, whipped some of de
+niggers, lots. One time he whipped a slave for stealing. Some of his
+land was around four churches in Winnsboro.
+
+"We was allowed three pounds o' meat, one quart o' molasses, grits and
+other things each week--plenty for us to eat.
+
+"When freedom come, he told us we was free, and if we wanted to stay on
+with him, he would do the best he could for us. Most of us stayed, and
+after a few months, he paid wages. After eight months, some went to
+other places to work.
+
+"The master's wife died and he married a daughter of Robert Gillam and
+moved to Greenville, S. C.
+
+"The master always had a very big garden with plenty of vegetables. He
+had fifty hogs, and I helped mind the hogs. He didn't raise much cotton,
+but raised lots of wheat and corn. He made his own meal and flour from
+the mill on the creek; made home-made clothes with cards and spinning
+wheels.
+
+"They cooked in wide chimneys in a kitchen which was away off from the
+big house. They used pots and skillets to cook with. The hands got
+their rations every Monday night. They got their clothes to wear which
+they made on old spinning wheels, and wove them themselves.
+
+"The master had his own tanyard and tanned his leather and made shoes
+for his hands.
+
+"He had several overseers, white men, and some Negro foremen. They
+sometimes whipped the slaves, that is the overseers. Once a nigger
+whipped the overseer and had to run away in the woods and live so he
+wouldn't get caught. The nigger foremen looked after a set of slaves on
+any special work. They never worked at night unless it was to bring in
+fodder or hay when it looked like rain was coming. On rainy days, we
+shucked corn and cleaned up around the place.
+
+"We had old brick ovens, lots of 'em. Some was used to make molasses
+from our own sugar cane we raised.
+
+"The master had a 'sick-house' where he took sick slaves for treatment,
+and kept a drug store there. They didn't use old-time cures much, like
+herbs and barks, except sassafras root tea for the blood.
+
+"We didn't learn to read and write, but some learned after the war.
+
+"My father run the blacksmith shop for the master on the place. I worked
+around the place. The patrollers were there and we had to have a pass to
+get out any. The nigger children sometimes played out in the road and
+were chased by patrollers. The children would run into the master's
+place and the patrollers couldn't get them 'cause the master wouldn't
+let them. We had no churches for slaves, but went to the white church
+and set in the gallery. After freedom, niggers built 'brush harbors' on
+the place.
+
+"Slaves carried news from one plantation to another by riding mules or
+horses. They had to be in quarters at night. I remember my mother rode
+side-saddle one Saturday night. I reckon she had a pass to go; she come
+back without being bothered.
+
+"Some games children played was, hiding switches, marbles, and maybe
+others. Later on, some of de nigger boys started playing cards and got
+to gambling; some went to de woods to gamble.
+
+"The old cotton gins on de farms were made of wooden screws, and it took
+all day to gin four bales o' cotton.
+
+"I was one of the first trustees that helped build the first colored
+folks' church in the town of Greenwood. I am the only one now living. I
+married Alice Robinson, and had five sons and one daughter, and have
+five or six grandchildren.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, I think, was a good man; had a big reputation. Couldn't
+tell much about Jefferson Davis. Booker T. Washington--Everybody
+thinks he is a great man for the colored race.
+
+"Of course I think slavery was bad. We is free now and better off to
+work. I think anybody who is any count can work and live by himself.
+
+"I joined de church when I was 17 years old, because a big preaching was
+going on after freedom for the colored people.
+
+"I think everybody should join the church and do right; can't get
+anywhere without it, and do good."
+
+  Source: William Ballard (88), Greenwood, S. C.
+          Interviewed by: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (6/10/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  CHARLEY BARBER
+  EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Charley Barber lives in a shanty kind of house, situated on a plot of
+ground containing two acres all his own. It is a mile and a half
+southeast of Winnsboro, S. C. He lives with an anaemic daughter, Maggie,
+whose chief interests are a number of cats, about the premises, and a
+brindled, crumple-horned cow that she ties out to graze every morning
+and milks at evening.
+
+Charley is squat of figure, short neck, popeyed, and has white hair. He
+tills the two acres and produces garden truck that he finds a sale for
+among the employees of the Winnsboro mills, just across the railroad
+from his home. He likes to talk, and pricks up his ears,(so to speak),
+whenever anything is related as having occurred in the past. He will
+importune those present to hear his version of the event unusual.
+
+"Well sah, dis is a pleasure to have you call 'pon me, howsomever it be
+unexpected dis mornin'. Shoo! (driving the chickens out of the house)
+Shoo! Git out of here and go scratch a livin' for them chickens, dat's
+followin' you yet, and you won't wean and git to layin' again. Fust
+thing you know you'll be spoilin' de floor, when us is got company dis
+very minute. Scat! Maggie; git them cats out de chairs long 'nough for
+Mr. Wood to set in one whilst he's come to see me dis mornin'.
+
+"And dat's it? You wants me to talk over de days dat am gone? How dis
+come 'bout and how dat come 'bout, from de day I was born, to dis very
+hour? Let's light, up our smokestacks befo' us begin. Maybe you wants a
+drink of, water. Maggie, fetch de water here!
+
+"How old you think I is, sixty-five? My goodness! Do you hear dat
+Maggie? (Rubbing his hands; his eyes shining with pleasure) Take another
+look and make another guess. Seventy-five? You is growin' warm but
+you'll have to come again!
+
+"Bless your soul Marse Wood, you know what old Mudder Shifton say? She
+'low dat: 'In de year 1881, de world to an end will surely come'. I was
+twenty-five years old when all de niggers and most of de white folks was
+believin' dat old lady and lookin' for de world to come to an end in
+1881. Dat was de year dat I jined de church, 'cause I wanted to make
+sure dat if de end did come, I'd be caught up in dat rapture dat de
+white Methodist preacher was preachin' 'bout and explainin' to my
+marster and mistress at deir house on de piazza dat year.
+
+"I is eighty-one years old. I was born up on de Wateree River, close to
+Great Falls. My marster was Ozmond Barber. My mistress was name Miss
+Elizabeth; her de wife of Marse Ozmond. My pappy was name Jacob. My
+mammy went by de name of Jemima. They both come from Africa where they
+was born. They was 'ticed on a ship, fetch 'cross de ocean to Virginny,
+fetch to Winnsboro by a slave drover, and sold to my marster's father.
+Dat what they tell me. When they was sailin' over, dere was five or six
+hundred others all together down under de first deck of de ship, where
+they was locked in. They never did talk lak de other slaves, could just'
+say a few words, use deir hands, and make signs. They want deir
+collards, turnips, and deir 'tators, raw. They lak sweet milk so much
+they steal it.
+
+"Pappy care-nothin' 'bout clothes and wouldn't wear shoes in de winter
+time or any time. It was 'ginst de law to bring them over here when they
+did, I learn since. But what is de law now and what was de law then,
+when bright shiny money was in sight? Money make de automobile go. Money
+make de train go. Money make de mare go, and at dat time I 'spect money
+make de ships go. Yes sir, they, my pappy and mammy, was just smuggled
+in dis part of de world, I bet you!
+
+"War come on, my marster went out as a captain of de Horse Marines. A
+tune was much sung by de white folks on de place and took wid de
+niggers. It went lak dis:
+
+  'I'm Captain Jenks of de Horse Marines
+  I feed my horse on corn and beans.
+  Oh! I'm Captain Jenks of de Horse Marines
+  And captain in de army!'"
+
+"When de Yankees come they seem to have special vengeance for my white
+folks. They took everything they could carry off and burnt everything
+they couldn't carry off.
+
+"Mistress and de chillun have to go to Chester to git a place to sleep
+and eat, wid kinfolks. De niggers just lay 'round de place 'til master
+rode in, after de war, on a horse; him have money and friends and git
+things goin' agin. I stay on dere 'til '76. Then I come to Winnsboro and
+git a job as section hand laborer on de railroad. Out of de fust
+money,--(I git paid off de pay train then; company run a special pay
+train out of Columbia to Charlotte. They stop at every station and pay
+de hands off at de rear end of de train in cash). Well, as I was a
+sayin': Out de fust money, I buys me a red shirt and dat November I
+votes and de fust vote I put in de box was for Governor Wade Hampton.
+Dat was de fust big thing I done.
+
+"De nex' big thing I done was fall in love wid Mary Wylie. Dat come
+'bout on de second pay day. De other nigger gals say her marry me for my
+money but I never have believed it. White ladies do dat 'kalkilating'
+trick sometime but you take a blue-gum nigger gal, all wool on de top of
+her head and lak to dance and jig wid her foots, to pattin' and fiddle
+music, her ain't gonna have money in de back of her head when her pick
+out a man to marry. Her gonna want a man wid muscles on his arms and
+back and I had them. Usin' dat pick and shovel on de railroad just give
+me what it took to git Mary. Us had ten chillun. Some dead, some marry
+and leave. My wife die year befo' last. Maggie is puny, as you see, and
+us gits 'long wid de goodness of de Lord and de white folks.
+
+"I b'longs to de St. John Methodist Church in Middlesix, part of
+Winnsboro. They was havin' a rival (revival) meetin' de night of de
+earthquake, last day of August, in 1886. Folks had hardly got over de
+scare of 1881, 'bout de world comin' to an end. It was on Tuesday night,
+if I don't disremember, 'bout 9 o'clock. De preacher was prayin', just
+after de fust sermon, but him never got to de amen part of dat prayer.
+Dere come a noise or rumblin', lak far off thunder, seem lak it come
+from de northwest, then de church begin to rock lak a baby's cradle.
+Dere was great excitement. Old Aunt Melvina holler: 'De world comin' to
+de end'. De preacher say: 'Oh, Lordy', and run out of de pulpit.
+Everbody run out de church in de moonlight. When de second quake come,
+'bout a minute after de fust, somebody started up de cry: 'De devil
+under de church! De devil under de church! De devil gwine to take de
+church on his back and run away wid de church!' People never stop
+runnin' 'til they got to de court house in town. Dere they 'clare de
+devil done take St. John's Church on his back and fly away to hell wid
+it. Marse Henry Galliard make a speech and tell them what it was and beg
+them to go home. Dat Mr. Skinner, de telegraph man at de depot, say de
+main part of it was way down 'bout Charleston, too far away for anybody
+to git hurt here, 'less a brick from a chimney fall on somebody's head.
+De niggers mostly believes what a fine man, lak Marse Henry, tell them.
+De crowd git quiet. Some of them go home but many of them, down in de
+low part of town, set on de railroad track in de moonlight, all night. I
+was mighty sleepy de nex' mornin' but I work on de railroad track just
+de same. Dat night folks come back to St. John's Church, find it still
+dere, and such a outpourin' of de spirit was had as never was had befo'
+or since.
+
+"Just think! Dat has been fifty-one years ago. Them was de glorious
+horse and buggy days. Dere was no air-ships, no autos and no radios.
+White folks had horses to drive. Niggers had mules to ride to a baseball
+game, to see white folks run lak de patarollers (patrollers) was after
+them and they holler lak de world was on fire."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ED BARBER
+  EX-SLAVE 77 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Ed Barber lives in a small one-room house in the midst of a cotton field
+on the plantation of Mr. A. M. Owens, ten miles southeast of Winnsboro,
+S. C. He lives alone and does his own cooking and housekeeping. He is a
+bright mulatto, has an erect carriage and posture, appears younger than
+his age, is intelligent and enjoys recounting the tales of his lifetime.
+His own race doesn't give him much countenance. His friends in the old
+days of reconstruction were white people. He presumes on such past
+affiliation and considers himself better than the full-blooded Negro.
+
+"It's been a long time since I see you. Maybe you has forgot but I ain't
+forgot de fust time I put dese lookers on you, in '76. Does you 'members
+dat day? It was in a piece of pines beyond de Presbyterian Church, in
+Winnsboro, S. C. Us both had red shirts. You was a ridin' a gray pony
+and I was a ridin' a red mule, sorrel like. You say dat wasn't '76?
+Well, how come it wasn't? Ouillah Harrison, another nigger, was dere,
+though he was a man. Both of us got to arguin'. He 'low he could vote
+for Hampton and I couldn't, 'cause I wasn't 21. You say it was '78
+'stead of '76, dat day in de pines when you was dere? Well! Well! I sho'
+been thinkin' all dis time it was '76.
+
+"'Member de fight dat day when Mr. Pole Barnadore knock Mr. Blanchard
+down, while de speakin' was a gwine on? You does? Well, us come to
+common 'greement on dat, bless God!
+
+"Them was scary times! Me bein' just half nigger and half white man, I
+knowed which side de butter was on de bread. Who I see dere? Well, dere
+was a string of red shirts a mile long, dat come into Winnsboro from
+White Oak. And another from Flint Hill, over de Pea Ferry road, a mile
+long. De bar-rooms of de town did a big business dat day. Seem lak it
+was de fashion to git drunk all 'long them days.
+
+"Them red shirts was de monkey wrench in de cotton-gin of de carpet bag
+party. I's here to tell you. If a nigger git hungry, all he have to do
+is go to de white folk's house, beg for a red shirt, and explain hisself
+a democrat. He might not git de shirt right then but he git his belly
+full of everything de white folks got, and de privilege of comin' to dat
+trough sometime agin.
+
+"You wants me to tell you 'bout who I is, where I born, and how old I
+is? Well, just cross examine me and I'll tell you de facts as best I
+knows how.
+
+"I was born twelve miles east of Winnsboro, S. C. My marster say it was
+de 18th of January, 1860.
+
+"My mother name Ann. Her b'long to my marster, James Barber. Dat's not a
+fair question when you ask me who my daddy was. Well, just say he was a
+white man and dat my mother never did marry nobody, while he lived. I
+was de onliest child my mother ever had.
+
+"After freedom my mother raised me on de Marse Adam Barber place, up by
+Rocky Mount and Mitford. I stayed dere 'til all de 'citement of politics
+die down. My help was not wanted so much at de 'lection boxes, so I got
+to roamin' 'round to fust one place and then another. But wheresomever I
+go, I kept a thinkin' 'bout Rosa and de ripe may-pops in de field in
+cotton pickin' time. I landed back to de Barber place and after a
+skirmish or two wid de old folks, marry de gal de Lord always 'tended
+for me to marry. Her name was Rosa Ford. You ask me if she was pretty?
+Dat's a strange thing. Do you ever hear a white person say a colored
+woman is pretty? I never have but befo' God when I was trampin' 'round
+Charleston, dere was a church dere called St. Mark, dat all de society
+folks of my color went to. No black nigger welcome dere, they told me.
+Thinkin' as how I was bright 'nough to git in, I up and goes dere one
+Sunday. Ah, how they did carry on, bow and scrape and ape de white
+folks. I see some pretty feathers, pretty fans, and pretty women dere! I
+was uncomfortable all de time though, 'cause they was too 'hifalootin'
+in de ways, in de singin', and all sorts of carryin' ons.
+
+"Glad you fetch me back to Rosa. Us marry and had ten chillun. Francis,
+Thompkins, William, Jim, Levi, Ab and Oz is dead. Katie marry a Boykin
+and is livin' in New York. My wife, Rosa, die on dis place of Mr. Owens.
+
+"I lives in a house by myself. I hoes a little cotton, picks plums and
+blackberries but dewberries 'bout played out.
+
+"My marster, James Barber, went through de Civil War and died. I begs
+you, in de name of de good white folks of '76 and Wade Hampton, not to
+forget me in dis old age pension business.
+
+"What I think of Abe Lincoln? I think he was a poor buckra white man, to
+de likes of me. Although, I 'spects Mr. Lincoln meant well but I can't
+help but wish him had continued splittin' them fence rails, which they
+say he knowed all 'bout, and never took a hand in runnin' de government
+of which he knowed nothin' 'bout. Marse Jeff Davis was all right, but
+him oughta got out and fought some, lak General Lee, General Jackson and
+'Poleon Bonaparte. Us might have won de war if he had turned up at some
+of de big battles lak Gettysburg, 'Chickenmaroger', and 'Applemattox'.
+What you think 'bout dat?
+
+"Yes sah, I has knowed a whole lot of good white men. Marse General
+Bratton, Marse Ed P. Mobley, Marse Will Durham, dat owned dis house us
+now settin' in, and Dr. Henry Gibson. Does I know any good colored men?
+I sho' does! Dere's Professor Benjamin Russell at Blackstock. You knows
+him. Then dere was Ouillah Harrison, dat own a four-hoss team and a
+saddle hoss, in red shirt days. One time de brass band at Winnsboro, S.
+C. wanted to go to Camden, S. C. to play at de speakin' of Hampton. He
+took de whole band from Winnsboro to Camden, dat day, free of charge.
+Ah! De way dat band did play all de way to Ridgeway, down de road to
+Longtown, cross de Camden Ferry, and right into de town. Dere was horns
+a blowin', drums a beatin', and people a shoutin': 'Hurrah for Hampton!'
+Some was a singin': 'Hang Dan Chamberlain on a Sour Apple Tree'. Ouillah
+come home and found his wife had done had a boy baby. What you reckon?
+He name dat boy baby, Wade Hampton. When he come home to die, he lay his
+hand on dat boy's head and say: 'Wade, 'member who you name for and
+always vote a straight out democrat ticket'. Which dat boy did!"
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  MILLIE BARBER
+  EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
+
+"Hope you find yourself well dis mornin', white folks. I's just common;
+'spect I eats too much yesterday. You know us celebrated yesterday,
+'cause it was de Fourth of July. Us had a good dinner on dis 2,000 acre
+farm of Mr. Owens. God bless dat white boss man! What would us old no
+'count niggers do widout him? Dere's six or seven, maybe eight of us out
+here over eighty years old. 'Most of them is like me, not able to hit a
+lick of work, yet he take care of us; he sho' does.
+
+"Mr. Owens not a member of de church but he allowed dat he done found
+out dat it more blessed to give than to receive, in case like us.
+
+"You wants to know all 'bout de slavery time, de war, de Ku Kluxes and
+everything? My tongue too short to tell you all dat I knows. However, if
+it was as long as my stockin's, I could tell you a trunk full of good
+and easy, bad and hard, dat dis old life-stream have run over in
+eighty-two years. I's hoping to reach at last them green fields of Eden
+of de Promise Land. 'Scuse me ramblin' 'round, now just ask me
+questions; I bet I can answer all you ask.
+
+"My pa name, Tom McCullough; him was a slave of old Marster John
+McCullough, whose big two-story house is de oldest in Fairfield County.
+It stands today on a high hill, just above de banks of Dutchman Creek.
+Big road run right by dat house. My mammy name, Nicie. Her b'long to de
+Weir family; de head of de family die durin' de war of freedom. I's not
+supposed to know all he done, so I'll pass over dat. My mistress name,
+Eliza; good mistress. Have you got down dere dat old marster just took
+sick and die, 'cause he wasn't touched wid a bullet nor de life slashed
+out of him wid a sword?
+
+"Well, my pa b'longin' to one man and my mammy b'longin' to another,
+four or five miles apart, caused some confusion, mix-up, and heartaches.
+My pa have to git a pass to come to see my mammy. He come sometimes
+widout de pass. Patrollers catch him way up de chimney hidin' one night;
+they stripped him right befo' mammy and give him thirty-nine lashes, wid
+her cryin' and a hollerin' louder than he did.
+
+"Us lived in a log house; handmade bedstead, wheat straw mattress,
+cotton pillows, plenty coverin' and plenty to eat, sich as it was. Us
+never git butter or sweet milk or coffee. Dat was for de white folks but
+in de summer time, I minds de flies off de table wid the peafowl feather
+brush and eat in de kitchen just what de white folks eat; them was very
+good eatin's I's here for to tell you. All de old slaves and them dat
+worked in de field, got rations and de chillun were fed at de kitchen
+out-house. What did they git? I 'members they got peas, hog meat, corn
+bread, 'lasses, and buttermilk on Sunday, then they got greens, turnips,
+taters, shallots, collards, and beans through de week. They were kept
+fat on them kind of rations.
+
+"De fact is I can't 'member us ever had a doctor on de place; just a
+granny was enough at child birth. Slave women have a baby one day, up
+and gwine 'round de next day, singin' at her work lak nothin' unusual
+had happened.
+
+"Did I ever git a whippin'? Dat I did. How many times? More than I can
+count on fingers and toes. What I git a whippin' for? Oh, just one
+thing, then another. One time I break a plate while washin' dishes and
+another time I spilt de milk on de dinin' room floor. It was always for
+somethin', sir. I needed de whippin'.
+
+"Yes sir, I had two brothers older than me; one sister older than me and
+one brother younger than me.
+
+"My young marster was killed in de war. Their names was Robert, Smith,
+and Jimmie. My young mistress, Sarah, married a Sutton and moved to
+Texas. Nancy marry Mr. Wade Rawls. Miss Janie marry Mr. Hugh Melving. At
+this marriage my mammy was give to Miss Janie and she was took to Texas
+wid her young baby, Isaiah, in her arms. I have never seen or heard tell
+of them from dat day to dis.
+
+"De Yankees come and burn de gin-house and barns. Open de smokehouse,
+take de meat, give de slaves some, shoot de chickens, and as de mistress
+and girls beg so hard, they left widout burnin' de dwellin' house.
+
+"My oldest child, Alice, is livin' and is fifty-one years old de 10th of
+dis last May gone. My first husband was Levi Young; us lived wid Mr.
+Knox Picket some years after freedom. We moved to Mr. Rubin Lumpkin's
+plantation, then to George Boulwares. Well, my husband die and I took a
+fool notion, lak most widows, and got into slavery again. I marry Prince
+Barber; Mr. John Hollis, Trial Justice, tied de knot. I loved dat young
+nigger more than you can put down dere on paper, I did. He was black and
+shiny as a crow's wing. Him was white as snow to dese old eyes. Ah, the
+joy, de fusses, de ructions, de beatin's, and de makin' ups us had on de
+Ed Shannon place where us lived. Us stay dere seven long years.
+
+"Then de Klu Kluxes comed and lak to scared de life out of me. They ask
+where Prince was, searched de house and go away. Prince come home 'bout
+daylight. Us took fright, went to Marster Will Durham's and asked for
+advice and protection. Marster Will Durham fixed it up. Next year us
+moved to dis place, he own it then but Marster Arthur Owens owns it now.
+Dere is 2,000 acres in dis place and another 1,000 acres in de Rubin
+Lumpkin place 'joinin' it.
+
+"Prince die on dis place and I is left on de mercy of Marster Arthur,
+livin' in a house wid two grandchillun, James twelve years, and John
+Roosevelt Barber, eight years old. Dese boys can work a little. They can
+pick cotton and tote water in de field for de hands and marster say:
+'Every little help'.
+
+"My livin' chillun ain't no help to me. Dere's Willie, I don't know
+where he is. Prince is wid Mr. Freeman on de river. Maggie is here on de
+place but she no good to me.
+
+"I 'spect when I gits to drawin' down dat pension de white folks say is
+comin', then dere will be more folks playin' in my backyard than dere is
+today."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ANDERSON BATES
+  EX-SLAVE 87 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Anderson Bates lives with his son-in-law and daughter, Ed and Dora
+Owens, in a three-room frame house, on lands of Mr. Dan Heyward, near
+the Winnsboro Granite Company, Winnsboro, S. C. Anderson and his wife
+occupy one of the rooms and his rent is free. His son-in-law has regular
+employment at the Winnsboro Cotton Mills. His wife, Carrie, looks after
+the house. Anderson and his daughter, Dora, are day laborers on the
+neighborhood farms, but he is able to do very little work.
+
+"I was born on de old Dr. Furman place, near Jenkinsville, S. C., in de
+year, 1850. My pappy was name Nat and mammy name Winnie. They was slaves
+of old Dr. Furman, dat have a big plantation, one hundred slaves, and a
+whole lot of little slave chillun, dat him wouldn't let work. They run
+'round in de plum thickets, blackberry bushes, hunt wild strawberries,
+blow cane whistles, and have a good time.
+
+"De old Dr. Furman house is ramshackle but it is still standin' out dere
+and is used as a shelter for sawmill hands dat is cuttin' down de big
+pines and sawin' them on de place.
+
+"Where did my pappy and mammy come from? Mammy was born a slave in de
+Furman family in Charleston, but pappy was bought out of a drove dat a
+Baltimore speculator fetch from Maryland long befo' de war. Doctor
+practice all 'round and 'bout Monticello, happen 'long one day, see my
+pappy and give a thousand dollars for him, to dat speculator. I thank
+God for dat!
+
+"Dr. Furman, my old marster, have a brudder called Jim, dat run de
+Furman School, fust near Winnsboro, then it move to Greenville, S. C.
+
+"My mistress name Nancy. Her was of de quality. Her voice was soft and
+quiet to de slaves. Her teach us to sing:
+
+  'Dere is a happy land, far, far 'way,
+  Where bright angels stand, far, far 'way,
+  Oh! How them angels sing!
+  Oh! How them bells ring!
+  In dat happy land, far, far 'way!'
+
+"Dere was over a thousand acres, maybe two thousand in dat old Furman
+place. Them sawmill folks give $30,000.00 for it, last year.
+
+"My pappy and mammy was field hands. My brudders and sisters was:
+Liddie, Millie, Ria, Ella, Harriet, Thomas, Smith, and Marshall. All
+dead but me and Marshall.
+
+"I was fifteen when de Yankees come thru. They took off everything,
+hosses, mules, cows, sheep, goats, turkeys, geese, and chickens. Hogs?
+Yes sah, they kill hogs and take off what parts they want and leave
+other parts bleedin' on de yard. When they left, old marster have to go
+up into Union County for rations.
+
+"Dat's funny, you wants to set down dere 'bout my courtship and weddin'?
+Well, sir, I stay on de old plantation, work for my old marster, de
+doctor, and fell head over heels in love wid Carrie. Dere was seven more
+niggers a flyin' 'round dat sugar lump of a gal in de night time when I
+breezes in and takes charge of de fireside cheer. I knocks one down one
+night, kick another out de nex' night, and choke de stuffin' out of one
+de nex' night. I landed de three-leg stool on de head of de fourth one,
+de last time. Then de others carry deir 'fections to some other place
+than Carrie's house. Us have some hard words 'bout my bad manners, but I
+told her dat I couldn't 'trol my feelin's wid them fools a settin'
+'round dere gigglin' wid her. I go clean crazy!
+
+"Then us git married and go to de ten-acre quarry wid Mr. Anderson. I
+work dere a while and then go to Captain Macfie, then to his son, Wade,
+and then to Marse Rice Macfie. Then I go back to de quarry, drill and
+git out stone. They pay me $3.50 a day 'til de Parr Shoals Power come in
+wid 'lectric power drills and I was cut down to eighty cents a day. Then
+I say: 'Old grey hoss! Damn 'lectric toolin', I's gwine to leave.' I
+went to Hopewell, Virginia, and work wid de DuPonts for five years. War
+come on and they ask me to work on de acid area. De atmosphere dere tear
+all de skin off my face and arms, but I stuck it out to de end of de big
+war, for $7.20 a day. I drunk a good deal of liquor then, but I sent
+money to Carrie all de time and fetch her a roll every fourth of July
+and on Christmas. After de war they dismantle de plant and I come back
+to work for Mr. Eleazer, on de Saluda River for $2.00 a day, for five
+years.
+
+"Carrie have chillun by me. Dere was Anderson, my son, ain't see him in
+forty years. Essie, my daughter, marry Herbert Perrin. Dora, another
+daughter, marry Ed Owens. Ed makes good money workin' at de factory in
+Winnsboro. They have seven chillun. Us tries to keep them chillun in
+school but they don't have de good times I had when a child, a eatin'
+cracklin' bread and buttermilk, liver, pig-tails, hog-ears and turnip
+greens.
+
+"Does I 'member anything 'bout de Klu Kluxes? Jesus, yes! My old
+marster, de doctor, in goin' 'round, say out loud to people dat Klu
+Kluxes was doin' some things they ought not to do, by 'stortin' money
+out of niggers just 'cause they could.
+
+"When he was gone to Union one day, a low-down pair of white men come,
+wid false faces, to de house and ask where Dick Bell was. Miss Nancy say
+her don't know. They go hunt for him. Dick made a bee-line for de
+house. They pull out hoss pistols, fust time, 'pow'. Dick run on, secon'
+time, 'pow'. Dick run on, third time, 'pow' and as Dick reach de front
+yard de ball from de third shot keel him over lak a hit rabbit. Old miss
+run out but they git him. Her say: 'I give you five dollars to let him
+'lone.' They say: 'Not 'nough.' Her say: 'I give you ten dollars.' They
+say: 'Not 'nough.' Her say: 'I give you fifteen dollars.' They say: 'Not
+'nough.' Her say: 'I give you twenty-five dollars.' They take de money
+and say: 'Us'll be back tomorrow for de other Dick.' They mean Dick
+James.
+
+"Nex' day, us see them a comin' again. Dick James done load up de
+shotgun wid buckshot. When they was comin' up de front steps, Uncle Dick
+say to us all in de big house: 'Git out de way!' De names of de men us
+find out afterwards was Bishop and Fitzgerald. They come up de steps,
+wid Bishop in de front. Uncle Dick open de door, slap dat gun to his
+shoulder, and pull de trigger. Dat man Bishop hollers: 'Oh Lordy.' He
+drop dead and lay dere 'til de coroner come. Fitzgerald leap 'way. They
+bring Dick to jail, try him right in dat court house over yonder. What
+did they do wid him? Well, when Marse Bill Stanton, Marse Elisha
+Ragsdale and Miss Nancy tell 'bout it all from de beginnin' to de end,
+de judge tell de jury men dat Dick had a right to protect his home, and
+hisself, and to kill dat white man and to turn him loose. Dat was de end
+of de Klu Kluxes in Fairfield."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  From Field Notes
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  April 28. 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (negro)
+
+
+"I sho members when de soldiers come home from de war. All de women
+folks, both black as well as white wuz so glad to see 'em back dat we
+jus jumped up and hollered 'Oh, Lawdy, God bless you.' When you would
+look around a little, you would see some widout an arm or maybe dey
+would be a walkin' wid a cruch or a stick. Den you would cry some widout
+lettin your white folks see you. But Jane, de worsest time of all fer us
+darkies wuz when de Ku Klux killed Dan Black. We wuz little chilluns a
+playin' in Dans house. We didn't know he had done nothin' ginst de white
+folks. Us wuz a playin by de fire jus as nice when something hit on de
+wall. Dan, he jump up and try to git outten de winder. A white spooky
+thing had done come in de doo' right by me. I was so scairt dat I could
+not git up. I had done fell straight out on de flo'. When Dan stick his
+head outten dat winder something say bang and he fell right down in de
+flo'. I crawles under de bed. When I got dar, all de other chilluns wuz
+dar to, lookin' as white as ashed dough from hickory wood. Us peeped out
+and den us duck under de bed agin. Ain't no bed ebber done as much good
+as dat one. Den a whole lot of dem come in de house. De wuz all white
+and scairy lookin'. It still makes de shivvers run down my spine and
+here I is ole and you all a settin' around wid me and two mo' wars done
+gone since dat awful time. Dan Black, he wo'nt no mo' kaise dey took dat
+nigger and hung him to a simmon tree. Dey would not let his folks take
+him down either. He jus stayed dar till he fell to pieces.
+
+"After dat when us chilluns seed de Ku Klux a comin', us would take an'
+run breakneck speed to de nearest wood. Dar we would stay till dey wuz
+plum out o' sight and you could not even hear de horses feet. Dem days
+wuz worse'n de war. Yes Lawd, dey wuz worse'n any war I is ebber heard
+of.
+
+"Was not long after dat fore de spooks wuz a gwine round ebber whar.
+When you would go out atter dark, somethin' would start to a haintin'
+ye. You would git so scairt dat you would mighty ni run every time you
+went out atter dark; even iffin you didn't see nothin'. Chile, don't axe
+me what I seed. Atter all dat killin' and a burnin' you know you wuz
+bliged to see things wid all dem spirits in distress a gwine all over de
+land. You see, it is like dis, when a man gits killed befo he is done
+what de good Lawd intended fer him to do, he comes back here and tries
+to find who done him wrong. I mean he don' come back hisself, but de
+spirit, it is what comes and wanders around. Course, it can't do
+nothin', so it jus scares folks and haints dem."
+
+  Source: "Aunt" Millie Bates, 25 Hamlet street, Union, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  VISIT WITH UNCLE WELCOME BEES--AGE 104 YEARS
+
+
+The road is perfectly camouflaged from the King's Highway by wild plums
+that lap overhead. Only those who have traveled this way before could
+locate the 'turn in' to Uncle Welcome's house. When you have turned in
+and come suddenly out from the plum thicket you find your road winding
+along with cultivated patches on the left--corn and peas--a fenced-in
+garden, the palings riven out by hand, and thick dark woods on the left.
+A lonesome, untenanted cabin is seemingly in the way but your car swings
+to the left instead of climbing the door-step and suddenly you find you
+are facing a bog. The car may get through; it may not. So you switch off
+and just sit a minute, seeing how the land lies. A great singing and
+chopping of wood off to the left have kept the inmates from hearing the
+approach of a car. When you rap therefore you hear, 'Come in'.
+
+A narrow hall runs through to the back porch and off this hall on your
+right opens a door from beyond which comes a very musical squeaking--you
+know a rocking chair is going hard--even before you see it in motion
+with a fuzzy little head that rests on someone's shoulder sticking over
+the top. And the fuzzy head which in size is like a small five-cent
+cocoanut, belongs to Uncle Welcome's great-grand. On seeing a visitor
+the grand, the mother of the infant, rises and smiles greeting, and,
+learning your errand, points back to the kitchen to show where Uncle
+Welcome sits. You step down one step and ask him if you may come in and
+he pats a chair by his side. The old man isn't so spry as he was when
+you saw him in the fall; the winter has been hard. But here it is warm
+again and at most four in the April afternoon, he sits over his plate of
+hopping John--he and innumerable flies. At his feet, fairly under the
+front of a small iron stove, sits another great-grand with a plate of
+peas between her legs. Peas and rice, 'hopping John'. (Someone says peas
+and hominy cooked together makes "limping Lizzie in the Low-Country."
+But that is another story.)
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Uncle Welcome, isn't Uncle Jeemes Stuart the oldest liver on Sandy
+Island?" Welcome: "Jeemes Stuart? I was married man when he born. Jeemes
+rice-field. (Worker in rice-field) posed himself. In all kinds of
+weather. Cut you down, down, down. Jeemes second wife gal been married
+before but her husband dead.
+
+"I couldn't tell the date or time I born. Your Maussa (Master) take it
+down. When I been marry, Dr. Ward Fadder (Father) aint been marry yet.
+My mother had twelve head born Oatland. He bought my mother from
+Virginia. Dolly. Sam her husband name. Sam come from same course. When
+my mother been bought, her been young woman. Work in rice. Plow right
+now (Meaning April is time to plow rice fields). I do carpenter work and
+mind horse for plantation. Come from Georgetown in boat. Have you own
+carriage. Go anywhere you want to go. Oatland church build for colored
+people and po-buckra. I helped build that church. The boss man, Mr.
+Bettman. My son Isaac sixty-nine. If him sixty-nine, I one hundred four.
+That's my record. Maussa didn't low you to marry till you twenty-two.
+Ben Allston own Turkey Hill. When him dead, I was twelve years old. Me!
+(Knocking his chest)"
+
+  Welcome Bees--
+  Parkersville, S. C.
+  (Near Waverly Mills, S. C.)
+  Age 104.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ANNE BELL
+  EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD.
+  ~HW: (near Winnsboro, S. C.)~]
+
+
+Anne Bell lives with her niece, in a one-room annex to a two-room frame
+house, on the plantation of Mr. Lake Howze, six miles west of Winnsboro,
+S. C. Her niece's husband, Golden Byrd, is a share-cropper on Mr.
+Howze's place. The old lady is still spry and energetic about the cares
+of housekeeping and attention to the small children of her niece. She is
+a delightful old lady and well worth her keep in the small chores she
+undertakes and performs in the household.
+
+"My marster was John Glazier Rabb; us call him Marse Glazier. My
+mistress was Nancy Kincaid Watts; us call her Miss Nancy. They lived on
+a big plantation in Fairfield County and dere I come into dis world,
+eighty-three years ago, 10th day of April past.
+
+"My pappy name just Andy but after de freedom, he took de name of Andrew
+Watts. My old mammy was Harriett but she come to you if you calls her
+Hattie. My brudders was Jake and Rafe. My sister name Charity. They all
+dead and gone to glory long time ago; left me here 'lone by myself and
+I's settin' here tellin' you 'bout them.
+
+"My mammy was de cook at de 'Big House' for marster, Miss Nancy, and de
+chillun. Let me see if I can call them over in my mind. Dere was Marse
+John, went off to de war, color bearer at Seven Pines. Yes sir, him was
+killed wid de colors a flyin' in his hand. Heard tell of it many times.
+He lies right now in de old Buck Church graveyard. De pine trees, seven
+of them, cry and sob 'round him every August 6th; dat's de day he was
+killed. Oh, my God!
+
+"Marse James went wid old Colonel Rion. They say he got shot but bullets
+couldn't kill him. No, bless God! Him comed back. Then come Marse
+Clarence. He went wid Captain Jim Macfie, went through it all and didn't
+get a scratch. Next was Miss Jesse. Then come Marse Horace, and Miss
+Nina. Us chillun all played together. Marse Horace is livin' yet and is
+a fine A. R.P. preacher of de Word. Miss Nina a rich lady, got
+plantation but live 'mong de big bugs in Winnsboro. She married Mr.
+Castles; she is a widow now. He was a good man, but he dead now.
+
+"De one I minds next, is Charlie. I nussed him. He married Colonel
+Province's daughter. Dat's all I can call to mind, right now.
+
+"Course de white folks I b'longs to, had more slaves than I got fingers
+and toes; whole families of them. De carpenter and de blacksmith on de
+place made de bedsteads. Us had good wheat straw mattresses to sleep on;
+cotton quilts, spreads, and cotton pillows. No trouble to sleep but it
+was hard to hear dat white overseer say at day break: 'Let me hear them
+foots hit de floor and dat befo' I go! Be lively! Hear me?' And you had
+to answer, 'Yas sah', befo' he'd move on to de nex' house. I does
+'member de parts of de bed, was held together by wooden pins. I sho'
+'members dat!
+
+"Mammy Harriett was de cook. I didn't done no work but 'tend to de
+chillun and tote water.
+
+"Money? Go 'way from here, boss! Lord, no sir, I never saw no money.
+What I want wid it anyhow?
+
+"How did they feed us? Had better things to eat then, than now and more
+different kind of somethin's. Us had pears, 'lasses, shorts, middlings
+of de wheat, corn bread, and all kinds of milk and vegetables.
+
+"Got a whuppin' once. They wanted me to go after de turkeys and I didn't
+want to go past de graveyard, where de turkeys was. I sho' didn't want
+to go by them graves. I's scared now to go by a graveyard in de dark. I
+took de whuppin' and somebody else must have got de turkeys. Sho' I
+didn't drive them up!
+
+"Slaves spun de thread, loomed de cloth, and made de clothes for de
+plantation. Don't believe I had any shoes. I was just a small gal anyhow
+then, didn't need them and didn't want them.
+
+"Yes, I's seen nigger women plow. Church? I wouldn't fool you, all de
+slaves big enough and not sick, had to go to church on de Sabbath.
+
+"They give us a half Saturday, to do as we like.
+
+"I was 'bout ten years old when de Yankees come. They was full to de
+brim wid mischief. They took de frocks out de presses and put them on
+and laugh and carry on powerful. Befo' they went they took everything.
+They took de meat and 'visions out de smoke-house, and de 'lasses,
+sugar, flour, and meal out de house. Killed de pigs and cows, burnt de
+gin-house and cotton, and took off de live stock, geese, chickens and
+turkeys.
+
+"After de freedom, I stayed on wid mammy right dere, 'til I married Levi
+Bell. I's had two chillun. Dis my grand-daughter, I visitin'. I never
+'spects to have as good a home as I had in slavery time, 'til I gits my
+title to dat mansion in de sky. Dats de reason I likes to sing dat old
+plantation spiritual, 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot, Jesus Gwinter Carry me
+Home'. Does I believe in 'ligion? What else good for colored folks? I
+ask you if dere ain't a heaven, what's colored folks got to look forward
+to? They can't git anywhere down here. De only joy they can have here,
+is servin' and lovin'; us can git dat in 'ligion but dere is a limit to
+de nigger in everything else. Course I knows my place in dis world; I
+'umbles myself here to be 'zalted up yonder."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  July 26, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  SLAVERY REMINISCENCES
+
+
+"I was raised in the wood across the road about 200 yards from here. I
+was very mischievous. My parents were honest and were Christians. I
+loved them very much. My father was William Bevis, who died at the age
+of eighty. Miss Zelia Hames of Pea Ridge was my mother. My parents are
+buried at Bethlehem Methodist Church. I was brought up in Methodism and
+I do not know anything else. I had two brothers and four sisters. My
+twin sister died last April 1937. She was Fannie Holcombe. I was in bed
+with pneumonia at the time of her death and of course I could not go to
+the funeral. For a month, I was unconscious.
+
+"When I was a little girl I played 'Andy-over' with a ball, in the
+moonlight. Later I went to parties and dances. Calico, chambric and
+gingham were the materials which our party dresses were made of.
+
+"My grandmother, Mrs. Phoebe Bevis used to tell Revolutionary stories
+and sing songs that were sung during that period. Grandmother knew some
+Tories. She always told me that old Nat Gist was a Tory ... that is the
+way he got rich.
+
+"Hampton was elected governor the morning my mother died. Father went in
+his carriage to Jonesville to vote for Hampton. We all thought that
+Hampton was fine.
+
+"When I was a school girl I used the blue back speller. My sweetheart's
+name was Ben Harris. We went to Bethlehem to school. Jeff and Bill
+Harris were our teachers. I was thirteen. We went together for six
+years. The Confederate War commenced. He was very handsome. He had black
+eyes and black hair. I had seven curls on one side of my head and seven
+on the other. He was twenty-four when he joined the 'Boys of Sixteen'.
+
+"He wanted to marry me then, but father would not let us marry. He
+kissed me good bye and went off to Virginia. He was a picket and was
+killed while on duty at Mars Hill. Bill Harris was in a tent nearby and
+heard the shot. He brought Ben home. I went to the funeral. I have never
+been much in-love since then.
+
+"I hardly ever feel sad. I did not feel especially sad during the war. I
+made socks, gloves and sweaters for the Confederate soldiers and also
+knitted for the World War soldiers. During the war, there were three
+looms and three shuttles in our house.
+
+"I went often to the muster grounds at Kelton to see the soldiers drill
+and to flirt my curls at them. Pa always went with me to the muster
+field. Once he invited four recruits to dine with us. We had a delicious
+supper. That was before the Confederacy was paralyzed. Two darkies
+waited on our table that night, Dorcas and Charlotte. A fire burned in
+our big fireplace and a lamp hung over the table. After supper was over,
+we all sat around the fire in its flickering light.
+
+"My next lover was Jess Holt and he was drowned in the Mississippi
+River. He was a carpenter and was building a warf on the river. He fell
+in and was drowned in a whirlpool."
+
+  Source: Miss Caroline Bevis (W. 96), County Home, Union, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/13/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, June 21, 1937
+
+  MAGGIE BLACK
+  Ex-Slave, 79 years
+
+
+"Honey, I don' know wha' to tell yuh 'bout dem times back dere. Yuh see
+I wus jes uh young child when de free war close en I ain' know much to
+tell yuh. I born o'er de river dere to Massa Jim Wilkerson plantation.
+Don' know wha' 'come uv my ole Massa chillun a'ter dey head been gone.
+Yuh see, honey, Massa Jim Wilkerson hab uh heap uv slave en he hire my
+mudder out to Colonel Durant place right down de road dere whey Miss
+Durant lib now. Coase I been back o'er de river to visit 'mongest de
+peoples dere a'ter freedom wuz 'clare, but I ain' ne'er lib dere no
+more."
+
+"Gawd been good to me, honey. I been heah uh long ole time en I can' see
+mucha dese days, but I gettin' 'long sorta so-so. I wuz train up to be
+uh nu'se 'oman en I betcha I got chillun more den any 60 year ole 'bout
+heah now dat I nu'se when dey wuz fust come heah. No, honey, ain' got no
+chillun uv me own. Aw my chillun white lak yuh."
+
+"No, no'mam, dey wear long ole frock den en uh girl comin' on dere when
+dey ge' to be any kind uv uh girl, dey put dat frock down. Oh, my child,
+dey can' ge' em short 'nough dese days. Ain' hab nuthin but uh string on
+dese day en time. Dey use'er wear dem big ole hoop skirt dat sit out
+broad lak from de ankle en den dey wear little panty dat show down twixt
+dey skirt en dey ankle. Jes tie em 'round dey knees wid some sorta
+string en le' em show dat way 'bout dey ankle. I 'member we black
+chillun'ud go in de woods en ge' wild grape vine en bend em round en put
+em under us skirt en make it stand out big lak. Hadder hab uh big ole
+ring fa de bottom uv de skirt en den one uh little bit smaller eve'y
+time dey ge' closer to de waist. Ne'er hab none tall in de waist cause
+dat wuz s'ppose to be little bitty t'ing."
+
+"Dey weave aw de cloth dey use den right dere on de plantation. Wear
+cotton en woolens aw de time den. Coase de Madam, she could go en ge' de
+finest kind uv silk cause mos' uv her t'ing come from 'broad. Child, I
+c'n see my ole mammy how she look workin' dat spinning wheel jes us good
+uz ef dat day wuz dis day right heah. She set dere at dat ole spinning
+wheel en take one shettle en t'row it one way en den annuder de udder
+way en pull dat t'ing en make it tighter en tighter. Sumptin say zum,
+zum, zum, en den yuh hadder work yuh feet dere too. Dat wuz de way dey
+make dey cloth dat day en time."
+
+"Honey, peoples hadder work dey hand fa eve'yt'ing dey hab mos' den. Dey
+grew dey own rice right dere on de plantation in dem days. Hadder plant
+it on some uv de land wha' wuz weter den de udder land wuz. Dey hadder
+le' de rice ge' good en ripe en den dey'ud cut it en hab one uv dem big
+rice whipping days. Heap uv people come from plantation aw 'bout en
+help whip dat rice. Dey jes take de rice en beat it 'cross some hoes dat
+dey hab fix up somewhey dere on de plantation. Honey, dey hab hoss jes
+lak dese hoss yuh see carpenter use 'boat heah dese days. Dey'ud hab
+hundreds uv bushels uv dat rice dere. Den when dey ge' t'rough, dey hab
+big supper dere fa aw dem wha' whip rice. Gi'e em aw de rice en hog head
+dey is e'er wan'. Man, dey'ud hab de nicest kind uv music dere. Knock
+dem bones togedder en slap en pat dey hands to aw kind uv pretty tune."
+
+"Dem dey hab rice mortars right dere on de plantation wha' dey fix de
+rice in jes uz nice. Now dey hab to take it to de mill. Yuh see dey hab
+uh big block outer in de yard wid uh big hole in it dat dey put de rice
+in en take dese t'ing call pestles en beat down on it en dat wha' knock
+de shaft offen it. Coase dey ne'er hab no nice pretty rice lak yuh see
+dese days cause it wusn't uz white uz de rice dat dey hab 'boat heah dis
+day en time, but it wuz mighty sweet rice, honey, mighty sweet rice."
+
+"No'mam, didn't hab no schools tall den. Ne'er gi'e de colored peoples
+no l'arnin' no whey 'fore freedom 'clare. Wha' little l'arnin' come my
+way wuz wha' I ge' when I stay wid Miss Martha Leggett down dere to
+Leggett's Mill Pond. A'ter freedom 'clare, uh lady from de north come
+dere en Miss Leggett send we chillun to school to dat lady up on de hill
+dere in de woods. No, honey, yah ain' ne'er see no bresh tent 'bout
+heah dis day en time. Dis jes de way it waz make. Dey dig four big holes
+en put postes in aw four corner 'bout lak uh room. Den dey lay log
+'cross de top uv dat en kiver it aw o'er wid bresh (brush) dat dey break
+outer de woods. Ne'er hab none uv de side shet up. En dey haul log dere
+en roll em under dat bresh tent fa we chillun to set on. Oh, de
+teacher'ud hab uh big box fa her stand jes lak uh preacher. Eve'ybody
+dat go to school dere hab one uv dem t'ing call slate dat yah ne'er
+hadder do nuthin but jes wash it offen. En dey hab dese ole l'arnin'
+book wha' yuh call Websters."
+
+"My white folks al'ays waz good to me, honey. Ne'er didn't nab to do no
+field work in aw me life. When I stay dere wid Miss Leggett, I hadder
+pick up little chip 'bout de yard when I fust come home from school en
+den I hadder go 'way up in de big field en drib de turkeys up. We didn't
+find dat no hard t'ing to do lak de peoples talk lak it sumptin hard to
+do dese days. We wuz l'arnt to work en didn't mind it neither. Al'ays
+minded to us own business."
+
+"Oh, gourds waz de t'ing in dem days. Dey waz wha' de peoples hab to
+drink outer en wash dey hominy en rice in aw de time. Dey was de bestest
+kind uv bowl fa we chillun to eat corn bread en clabber outer. Peoples
+dis day en time don' hab no sech crockery lak de people use'er hab.
+Honey, day hab de prettiest little clay bowls den."
+
+"Annuder t'ing de peoples do den dat yuh ain' ne'er hear 'bout nobody
+doing dese days, dey al'ays boil sumptin fa dey cows to eat lak peas en
+corn in uh big ole black pot somewhey dere in de back lot. Coase it wuz
+jes half cooked, but day sho' done dat. Nobody ne'er t'ought 'bout not
+cookin' fa dey cow den."
+
+"Dat was sho' uh different day from dis, honey. De little chillun wus
+jes uz foolish den cause de peoples ne'er tell dem 'bout nuthin tall in
+dat day en time. Aw dese little chillun 'bout heah dese days don' hab no
+shame 'bout em no whey. Dey hab head full uv eve'yt'ing, honey, aw sorta
+grown people knowings."
+
+  Source: Maggie Black, ex-slave, age 79, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview, June 1937
+
+
+
+
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  June 7, 1937
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Laurens County, S. C., at the 'brick house', which is
+close to Newberry County line, and my master was Dr. Felix Calmes. The
+old brick house is still there. My daddy was Joe Grazier and my mammy,
+Nellie Grazier.
+
+"We had a pretty good house to live in in slavery time, and some fair
+things to eat, but never was paid any money. We had plenty to eat like
+fat meat, turnips, cabbages, cornbread, milk and pot-liquor. Master sent
+his corn and apples, and his peaches to old man Scruggs at Helena, near
+Newberry, to have him make his whiskey, brandy, and wine for him. Old
+man Scruggs was good at that business. The men hunted some, squirrels,
+rabbits, possums, and birds.
+
+"In the winter time I didn't have much clothes, and no shoes. At nights
+I carded and spinned on the mistress's wheels, helping my mammy. Then we
+got old woman Wilson to weave for us.
+
+"Master had a big plantation of several farms, near about 1,000 acres or
+more. It was said he had once 250 slaves on his places, counting
+children and all. His overseers had to whip the slaves, master told them
+to, and told them to whip them hard. Master Calmes was most always mean
+to us. He got mad spells and whip like the mischief. He all the time
+whipping me 'cause I wouldn't work like he wanted. I worked in the big
+house, washed, ironed, cleaned up, and was nurse in the house when war
+was going on.
+
+"We didn't have a chance to learn to read and write, and master said if
+he caught any of his slaves trying to learn he would 'skin them alive'.
+
+"There was a church in the neighborhood on Dr. Blackburn's place, but we
+didn't get to go to it much. I was 17 years old when I joined the
+church. I joined because the rest of the girls joined. I think everybody
+ought to join the church.
+
+"On Saturday afternoons the slaves had to work, and all day Sunday, too,
+if master wanted them. On Christmas Day we was give liquor to get drunk
+on, but didn't have no dinner.
+
+"When I was sick old Dr. P. B. Ruff attended me. Old Dr. Calmes, I
+'member, traveled on a horse, with saddle-bag behind him, and made his
+own medicines. He made pills from cornbread.
+
+"I saw many slaves sold on the block--saw mammy with little infant taken
+away from her baby and sent away. I saw families separated from each
+other, some going to one white master and some to another.
+
+"I married at 14 years old to Arthur Bluford. We had 10 children. I now
+have about 8 grandchildren and about 7 or 8 great-grandchildren. I was
+married in the town of Newberry at the white folk's Methodist church, by
+a colored preacher named Rev. Geo. De Walt.
+
+"When freedom come, they left and hired out to other people, but I
+stayed and was hired out to a man who tried to whip me, but I ran away.
+Dat was after I married and had little baby. I told my mammy to look
+after my little baby 'cause I was gone. I stayed away two years 'till
+after Dr. Calmes and his family moved to Mississippi."
+
+  Source: Gordon Bluford (92), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, 1707 Lindsey St.,
+                     Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Henry Grant
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  SAMUEL BOULWARE
+  EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Samuel Boulware's only home is one basement room, in the home of colored
+friends, for which no rent charges are made. He is old and feeble and
+has poor eyesight, yet, he is self-supporting by doing light odd jobs,
+mostly for white people. He has never married, hence no dependents
+whatever. One of the members of the house, in which Samuel lives, told
+him someone on the front porch wanted to talk with him.
+
+From his dingy basement room he slowly mounted the steps and came toward
+the front door with an irregular shamble. One seeing his approach would
+naturally be of the opinion, that this old darkey was certainly nearing
+the hundred year mark. Apparently Father Time had almost caught up with
+him; he had been caught in the winds of affliction and now he was
+tottering along with a bent and twisted frame, which for many years in
+the past, housed a veritable physical giant. The winds of 82 years had
+blown over him and now he was calmly and humbly approaching the end of
+his days. Humility was his attitude, a characteristic purely
+attributable to the genuine and old-fashion southern Negro. He slid into
+a nearby chair and began talking in a plain conversational way.
+
+"Dis is a mighty hot day white folks but you knows dis is July and us
+gits de hot days in dis month. De older I gits de more I feels de hot
+and de cold. I has been a strong, hard working man most all my life and
+if it wasn't for dis rheumatism I has in my right leg, I could work hard
+every day now.
+
+"Does I 'member much 'bout slavery times? Well, dere is no way for me to
+disremember, unless I die. My mammy and me b'long to Doctor Hunter,
+some called him Major Hunter. When I was a small boy, I lived wid my
+mammy on de Hunter plantation. After freedom, I took de name of my
+daddy, who was a Boulware. He b'long to Reuben Boulware, who had a
+plantation two and one-half miles from Ridgeway, S. C., on de road dat
+leads to Longtown. My mistress' name was Effie. She and marster had four
+sons, no girls a-tall. George, Abram, Willie, and Henry, was their
+names. They was fine boys, 'cause they was raised by Mistress Effie's
+own hands. She was a good woman and done things 'zackly right 'round de
+plantation. Us slaves loved her, 'cause she said kind and soft words to
+us. Many times I's seen her pat de little niggers on de head, smile and
+say nice words to them. Boss, kind treatment done good then and it sho'
+does good dis present day; don't you think I's right 'bout dat? Marster
+had a bad temper. When he git mad, he walk fast, dis way and dat way,
+and when he stop, would say terrible cuss words. When de mistress heard
+them bad words, she would bow her pretty head and walk 'way kinda sad
+lak. It hurt us slaves to see de mistress sad, 'cause us wanted to see
+her smilin' and happy all de time.
+
+"My mammy worked hard in de field every day and as I was just a small
+boy, I toted water to de hands in de field and fetched wood into de
+kitchen to cook wid. Mammy was de mother of twelve chillun; three of
+them die when they was babies. I's de oldest of de twelve and has done
+more hard work than de rest. I had five brothers and all of them is
+dead, 'cept one dat lives in Savannah, Georgia. I has four sisters, one
+living in Charleston, one in New York City, one in Ithaca, N. Y., and
+one in Fairfield County, dis State.
+
+"Does my folks help me along any? No sir, they sho' don't. I gits
+nothin' from them, and I don't expect nothin' neither. Boss, a nigger's
+kinfolks is worse than a stranger to them; they thinks and acts for
+theirselves and no one else. I knows I's a nigger and I tries to know my
+place. If white folks had drapped us long time ago, us would now be next
+to de rovin' beasts of de woods. Slavery was hard I knows but it had to
+be, it seem lak. They tells me they eats each other in Africa. Us don't
+do dat and you knows dat is a heap to us.
+
+"Us had plenty to eat in slavery time. It wasn't de best but it filled
+us up and give us strength 'nough to work. Marster would buy a years
+rations on de first of every year and when he git it, he would have some
+cooked and would set down and eat a meal of it. He would tell us it
+didn't hurt him, so it won't hurt us. Dats de kind of food us slaves had
+to eat all de year. Of course, us got a heap of vegetables and fruits in
+de summer season, but sich as dat didn't do to work on, in de long
+summer days.
+
+"Marster was good, in a way, to his slaves but dat overseer of his name
+John Parker, was mean to us sometimes. He was good to some and bad to
+others. He strung us up when he done de whippin'. My mammy got many
+whippin's on 'count of her short temper. When she got mad, she would
+talk back to de overseer, and dat would make him madder than anything
+else she could do.
+
+"Marster had over twenty grown slaves all de time. He bought and sold
+them whenever he wanted to. It was sad times to see mother and chillun
+separated. I's seen de slave speculator cut de little nigger chillun
+with keen leather whips, 'cause they'd cry and run after de wagon dat
+was takin' their mammies away after they was sold.
+
+"De overseer was poor white folks, if dats what you is askin' 'bout,
+and dat is one thing dat made him so hard on de slaves of de plantation.
+All de overseers I knowed 'bout was poor white folks; they was white
+folks in de neighborhood dat wasn't able to own slaves. All dis class of
+people was called by us niggers, poor white folks.
+
+"Us slaves had no schoolin', 'cause dere was no teacher and school nigh
+our plantation. I has learnt to read a little since I got grown.
+Spelling come to me natural. I can spell 'most any word I hears, old as
+I is.
+
+"Marster and mistress was Baptist in 'ligious faith, and b'long to
+Concord Baptist Church. Us slaves was allowed to 'tend dat church, too.
+Us set up in de gallery and jined in de singin' every Sunday. Us slaves
+could jine Concord Church but Doctor Durham, who was de preacher, would
+take de slaves in another room from de white folks, and git their
+'fessions, then he would jine them to de church.
+
+"My daddy was a slave on Reuben Boulware's plantation, 'bout two miles
+from Marster Hunter's place. He would git a pass to come to see mammy
+once every week. If he come more than dat he would have to skeedaddle
+through de woods and fields from de patrollers. If they ketched him
+widout a pass, he was sho' in for a skin crackin' whippin'. He knowed
+all dat but he would slip to see mammy anyhow, whippin' or not.
+
+"Most them there patrollers was poor white folks, I believes. Rich folks
+stay in their house at night, 'less they has some sort of big frolic
+amongst theirselves. Poor white folks had to hustle 'round to make a
+living, so, they hired out theirselves to slave owners and rode de roads
+at night and whipped niggers if they ketched any off their plantation
+widout a pass. I has found dat if you gives to some poor folks, white
+or black, something a little better than they is used to, they is sho'
+gwine to think too high of theirselves soon, dats right. I sho' believes
+dat, as much as I believes I's setting in dis chair talkin' to you.
+
+"I 'members lak yesterday, de Yankees comin' 'long. Marster tried to
+hide the best stuff on de plantation but some of de slaves dat helped
+him hide it, showed de Yankee soldiers just where it was, when they come
+dere. They say: 'Here is de stuff, hid here, 'cause us put it dere.'
+Then de soldiers went straight to de place where de valuables was hid
+and dug them out and took them, it sho' set old marster down. Us slaves
+was sorry dat day for marster and mistress. They was gittin' old, and
+now they had lost all they had, and more that dat, they knowed their
+slaves was set free. De soldiers took all de good hosses, fat cattle,
+chickens, de meat in de smoke house, and then burnt all empty houses.
+They left de ones dat folks lived in. De Yankees 'pear to me, to be
+lookin' for things to eat, more than anything else.
+
+"Does I believe in 'ligion? Dat is all us has in dis world to live by
+and it's gwine to be de onliest thing to die wid. Belief in God and a
+'umble spirit is how I's tryin' to live these days. I was christened
+fust a Methodist, but when I growed up, I jine de Presbyterian Church
+and has 'mained a member of dat church every since.
+
+"Thank God I's had 'nough sense not to believe in haunts and sich
+things. I has 'possum hunt at night by myself in graveyards and I ain't
+seen one yet. My mammy say she see haunts pass her wid no heads but
+these old eyes has never seen anything lak dat. If you has done somebody
+a terrible wrong, then I believes dat person when they die, will 'pear
+to you on 'count of dat."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Feb. 7, 1938
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  REMINISCENCES: THE RED SHIRTS
+  [~HW: Boy~]
+
+
+"The Red Shirts had a big parade and barbecue in Spartanburg. They met
+at the courthouse. There were about 500 Red Shirts, besides others who
+made up a big crowd. I remember four leaders who came from Union County.
+One of the companies was led by Squire Gilliam Jeter, and one by Squire
+Bill Lyles. The company from the city was led by Capt. James Douglass
+and 'Buck' Kelley from Pea Ridge was there with his company.
+
+"Everything drilled in Spartanburg that day. The speakers of the day
+from Union were Squire Jeter and Capt. Douglass. While they were
+speaking, old Squire George Tucker from lower Fish Dam came with his
+company. Mr. Harrison Sartor, father of Will Sartor, was one of the
+captains. We saw Gen. Wade Hampton and old man Ben Tillman there.
+
+"About this time I was bound out to Mr. Jim Gregory, a blacksmith. The
+wealthy landlords bought negroes. Mr. Jim Gregory was the blacksmith for
+old Johnny Meador and Aunt Polly, his wife. He told me that Uncle Johnny
+bought a man, Heath, for $3,500. He also bought Heath's wife, Morrow,
+for Aunt Polly, but I don't know what he paid. The Meador house is just
+this side of Simstown. Aunt Polly's father, Triplett Meador, built that
+mansion. The brick were made in a home kiln which was near the house.
+Aunt Polly was a little girl when the house was built. While the brick
+for the sitting-room fireplace were still wet, he made little Polly step
+on each one of them to make the impression of her feet. So those foot
+prints in that fireplace are Aunt Polly's when she was five years old.
+She grew up there and married, and lived there until her death.
+
+"Miss Ida Knight's house (formerly the Sims house) was built not later
+than 1840. Dr. Thompson lived there first. Dr. Billy Sims married Dr.
+Thompson's sister, Miss Patsy, and that is how the house got into the
+Sims family. The old post office was known as Simstown, and I believe it
+was up near the Nat Gist mansion. Simstown was the name for the river
+community for years, because the Sims settled there and they were
+equally or more prominent than the Thompsons and Gists in that
+community. All the Sims men were country doctors.
+
+"To this community at the close of the Confederate War, came old man
+Ogle Tate, his wife, and Ben Shell, as refugees, fleeing from the
+Yankees. When they came into the community, Nat Gist gave them a nice
+house to live in on his plantation.
+
+"Mr. Gregory got all the sheet iron used on the Meador and Gist
+plantations, and also on the Sims and Thompson plantations. Plows were
+made in his blacksmith shop from 10 inch sheet iron. The sheet was
+heated and beaten into shape with his hammer. After cooling, the tools
+could be sharpened. Horse and mule shoes were made from slender iron
+rods, bought for that purpose. They were called 'slats', and this grade
+of iron was known as 'slat iron'. The shoe was moulded while hot, and
+beaten into the correct shape to fit the animal's foot. Those old shoes
+fit much better than the store-bought ones of more recent days. The
+horseshoe nails were made there, too. In fact, every farm implement of
+iron was made from flat or sheet iron.
+
+"I spun the first pants that I wore. Ma sewed them for me, and wove and
+finished them with her hands. She made the thread that they were sewed
+with by hand on the loom. I made cloth for all my shirts. I wore
+home-made cotton underwear in summer and winter, for we were poor. Of
+course my winter clothes were heavier.
+
+"We raised some sheep, and the winter woolens were made from the wool
+sheared from the sheep every May. Wool was taken to the factory at
+Bivensville and there made into yarn. Often, cotton was swapped for yarn
+to warp at home. Then ma ran it off on spools for her loom. 'Sleigh
+hammers' were made from cane gotten off the creek banks and bottoms.
+
+"Aunt Polly Meador had no patrollers on her place. She would not allow
+one there, for she did her own patrolling with her own whip and two bull
+dogs. She never had an overseer on her place, either. Neither did she
+let Uncle Johnny do the whipping. Those two dogs held them and she did
+her own whipping. One night she went to the quarter and found old 'Bill
+Pea Legs' there after one of her negro women. He crawled under the bed
+when he heard Aunt Polly coming. Those dogs pulled old 'Pea Legs' out
+and she gave him a whipping that he never forgot. She whipped the woman,
+also.
+
+"Morg was Morrow's nickname. Morg used to sit on the meat block and cut
+the meat for Aunt Polly to give out. Morg would eat her three pounds of
+raw meat right there. Uncle Johnny asked her what she would do all the
+week without any meat, she said that she would take the skin and grease
+her mouth every morning; then go on to the field or house and do her
+work, and wait until the next Saturday for more.
+
+"I do not know how old I am, but I well remember when Wheeler's men came
+to the plantation. They tore up everything. We heard that they were
+coming, so we dug holes and buried the meat and everything we could. We
+hid them so well that we could never find some of them ourselves.
+Wheeler and 36 men stopped on the Dick Jeter place. I think that was in
+1864. The Jeter place touched Miss Polly's plantation. The Jeter place
+was right near Neal Shoals on Broad River. Mr. Jeter had the biggest gin
+house in the entire township. Old Mr. Dick was at home because he was
+too old to go to the war. Pa was still in the war then, of course. Ma
+and I and one of the other children and a few darkies were at our home.
+
+"We saw Wheeler and his men when they stopped at that gin house. They
+began to ransack immediately. Wheeler gave some orders to his men and
+galloped off towards our house. The negroes ran but ma and I stayed in
+the house. Wheeler rode up in front of the door and spoke to my mother.
+He said that he had to feed his men and horses and asked her where the
+corn was. She told him that the gin house and the crib which contained
+the corn did not belong to her, so she could not give him the keys. At
+that he ordered his men to remove a log from the crib. By this means
+they broke into the crib and got all the corn. They then ransacked the
+house and took everything there was to eat. They tore out the big cog
+wheel in the gin and camped in it for the night. Next morning they set
+fire to the gin and then galloped away. Soon Mr. Jeter's big gin had
+gone up in flames. They took all of our corn and all of the fodder, 200
+bundles that we had in the barn, away with them."
+
+  Source: Mr. John Boyd, County Home, Union, R. F. D.
+  Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 1/26/38
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  May 24, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Newberry County, near the Laurens County line, above
+Little River. Me and my mother belonged to the Workman family.
+Afterwards, I belonged to Madison Workman. He was a good man to his
+slaves. My work was around the house and home. I was too young to work
+in the fields until after the war.
+
+"I can't remember much about them times. I married there and soon after
+come to town and lived, where I have worked ever since. I do washing and
+other work.
+
+"On the farm, the old folks had to cook outdoors, or in a kitchen away
+off from the house. They had wide fireplaces where they put their pots
+to cook the meals.
+
+"I remember the old Little River Presbyterian Church where people would
+go on Sundays. They would go in the mornings, and again in the
+afternoons and have preaching."
+
+  Source: Jane Bradley (80), Newberry, S. C.
+  Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. May 17, 1937
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ANDY BRICE
+  EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Andy Brice lives with his wife and two small children, about twelve
+miles east of Ridgeway, S. C., in a two-room frame building, chimney in
+the center. The house is set in a little cluster of pines one hundred
+and fifty yards north of state highway #34. Andy, since the amputation
+of his right leg five years ago, has done no work and is too old to
+learn a trade. He has a regular beggar's route including the towns of
+Ridgeway, Winnsboro, Woodward, and Blackstock. His amiability and good
+nature enable him to go home after each trip with a little money and a
+pack of miscellaneous gifts from white friends.
+
+"Howdy Cap'n! I come to Winnsboro dis mornin' from way 'cross Wateree,
+where I live now 'mongst de bull-frogs and skeeters. Seem lak they just
+sing de whole night thru: 'De bull-frog on de bank, and de skeeter in de
+pool.' Then de skeeter sail 'round my face wid de tra la, la la la, la
+la la part of dat old song you is heard, maybe many times.
+
+"I see a spit-box over dere. By chance, have you got any 'bacco? Make me
+more glib if I can chew and spit; then I 'members more and better de
+things done past and gone.
+
+"I was a slave of Mistress Jane. Her was a daughter of old Marster
+William Brice. Her marry Henry Younge and mammy was give to Marse Henry
+and Miss Jane.
+
+"My pappy name Tony. Mammy name Sallie. You is seen her a many a day.
+Marse Henry got kilt in de war. His tombstone and Mistress Jane's
+tombstone am in Concord Cemetery. They left two chillun, Miss Kittie and
+Miss Maggie. They both marry a Caldwell; same name but no kin. Miss
+Kittie marry Marse Joe Caldwell and move to Texas. Miss Maggie marry
+Marse Camel Caldwell and move to North Carolina.
+
+"My pappy die durin' de war. After freedom, mammy marry a ugly, no
+'count nigger name Mills Douglas. She had one child by him, name Janie.
+My mammy name her dat out of memory and love for old mistress, in
+slavery time. I run away from de home of my step-pappy and got work wid
+Major Thomas Brice. I work for him 'til I become a full grown man and
+come to be de driver of de four-hoss wagon.
+
+"One day I see Marse Thomas a twistin' de ears on a fiddle and rosinin'
+de bow. Then he pull dat bow 'cross de belly of dat fiddle. Sumpin' bust
+loose in me and sing all thru my head and tingle in my fingers. I make
+up my mind, right then and dere, to save and buy me a fiddle. I got one
+dat Christmas, bless God! I learn and been playin' de fiddle ever since.
+I pat one foot while I playin'. I kept on playin' and pattin' dat foot
+for thirty years. I lose dat foot in a smash up wid a highway accident
+but I play de old tunes on dat fiddle at night, dat foot seem to be dere
+at de end of dat leg (indicating) and pats just de same. Sometime I
+ketch myself lookin' down to see if it have come back and jined itself
+up to dat leg, from de very charm of de music I makin' wid de fiddle and
+de bow.
+
+"I never was very popular wid my own color. They say behind my back, in
+'76, dat I's a white folks nigger. I wear a red shirt then, drink red
+liquor, play de fiddle at de 'lection box, and vote de white folks
+ticket. Who I marry? I marry Ellen Watson, as pretty a ginger cake
+nigger as ever fried a batter cake or rolled her arms up in a wash tub.
+How I git her? I never git her; dat fiddle got her. I play for all de
+white folks dances down at Cedar Shades, up at Blackstock. De money roll
+in when someone pass 'round de hat and say: 'De fiddler?' Ellen had more
+beaux 'round her than her could shake a stick at but de beau she lak
+best was de bow dat could draw music out of them five strings, and draw
+money into dat hat, dat jingle in my pocket de nex' day when I go to see
+her.
+
+"I 'members very little 'bout de war, tho' I was a good size boy when de
+Yankees come. By instint, a nigger can make up his mind pretty quick
+'bout de creed of white folks, whether they am buckra or whether they am
+not. Every Yankee I see had de stamp of poor white trash on them. They
+strutted 'round, big Ike fashion, a bustin' in rooms widout knockin',
+talkin' free to de white ladies, and familiar to de slave gals,
+ransackin' drawers, and runnin' deir bayonets into feather beds, and
+into de flower beds in de yards.
+
+"What church I b'long to? None. Dat fiddle draws down from hebben all de
+sermons dat I understan'. I sings de hymns in de way I praise and
+glorify de Lord.
+
+"Cotton pickin' was de biggest work I ever did, outside of drivin' a
+wagon and playin' de fiddle. Look at them fingers; they is supple. I
+carry two rows of cotton at a time. One week I pick, in a race wid
+others, over 300 pounds a day. Commencin' Monday, thru Friday night, I
+pick 1,562 pounds cotton seed. Dat make a bale weighin' 500 pounds, in
+de lint.
+
+"Ellen and me have one child, Sallie Ann. Ellen 'joy herself; have a
+good time nussin' white folks chillun. Nussed you; she tell me 'bout it
+many time. 'Spect she mind you of it very often. I knows you couldn't
+git 'round dat woman; nobody could. De Lord took her home fifteen years
+ago and I marry a widow, Ida Belton, down on de Kershaw County side.
+
+"You wants me to tell 'bout dat 'lection day at Woodward, in 1878? You
+wants to know de beginnin' and de end of it? Yes? Well, you couldn't wet
+dis old man's whistle wid a swallow of red liquor now? Couldn't you or
+could you? Dis was de way of it: It was set for Tuesday. Monday I drive
+de four-hoss wagon down to dis very town. Marse John McCrory and Marse
+Ed Woodward come wid me. They was in a buggy. When us got here, us got
+twenty, sixteen shooters and put them under de hay us have in de wagon.
+Bar rooms was here. I had fetched my fiddle 'long and played in Marse
+Fred Habernick's bar 'til dinner time. Us leave town 'bout four o'clock.
+Roads was bad but us got home 'bout dark. Us put de guns in Marse Andy
+Mobley's store. Marse Ed and me leave Marse John to sleep in de store
+and to take care of de guns.
+
+"De nex' mornin', polls open in de little school house by de brick
+church. I was dere on time, help to fix de table by de window and set de
+ballot boxes on it. Voters could come to de window, put deir arms thru
+and tuck de vote in a slit in de boxes. Dere was two supervisors, Marse
+Thomas for de Democrats and Uncle Jordan for de Radicals. Marse Thomas
+had a book and a pencil, Uncle Jordan had de same.
+
+"Joe Foster, big buckra nigger, want to vote a stranger. Marse Thomas
+challenge dis vote. In them times colored preachers so 'furiate de
+women, dat they would put on breeches and vote de 'Publican radical
+ticket. De stranger look lak a woman. Joe Foster 'spute Marse Thomas'
+word and Marse Thomas knock him down wid de naked fist. Marse Irish
+Billy Brice, when him see four or five hindred blacks crowdin' 'round
+Marse Thomas, he jump thru de window from de inside. When he lit on de
+ground, pistol went off pow! One nigger drop in his tracks. Sixteen men
+come from nowhere and sixteen, sixteen shooters. Marse Thomas hold up
+his hand to them and say: 'Wait!' Him point to de niggers and say:
+'Git.' They start to runnin' 'cross de railroad, over de hillside and
+never quit runnin' 'til they git half a mile away. De only niggers left
+on dat ground was me, old Uncle Kantz, (you know de old mulatto,
+club-foot nigger) well, me and him and Albert Gladney, de hurt nigger
+dat was shot thru de neck was de only niggers left. Dr. Tom Douglas took
+de ball out Albert's neck and de white folks put him in a wagon and sent
+him home. I drive de wagon. When I got back, de white boys was in de
+graveyard gittin' names off de tombstones to fill out de talley sheets,
+dere was so many votes in de box for de Hampton ticket, they had to vote
+de dead. I 'spect dat was one resurrection day all over South
+Carolina."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Nov. 10, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I is gwine over to Tosch to see Maria. Everybody know Maria. She go by
+Rice--Maria Rice. She sont fer me to cure her misery. First, I went from
+my home in lower Cross Keys, across de Enoree, to see Maria. When I
+reached dar whar she stay, dey tell me dat her daughter over to Tosch.
+Done come and got her.
+
+"A kind friend dat de Lawd put in my path fetched me back across de
+Enoree and over to Tosch to Maria's gal's house. I is gwine straight
+over dar and lay my hand on Maria and rid her of dat misery dat she sont
+word was ailing her all dis spring. Don't make no diff'uns whar you
+hurts--woman, man or suckling babe--if you believes in de holler of my
+hand, it'll ease you, allus do it. De Bible say so, dat's why it be
+true. Ain't gwine to tell you nothing but de truth and de whole truth,
+so help me Jesus. Gone 65 years, I is been born agin dat long; right
+over in Padgett's Creek church, de white folks' church, dat's what de
+Lawd tuck my sins away and washed me clean agin wid His blood. Dat's why
+I allus sticks to de truth, I does.
+
+"Dey all 'lows dat I is gwine on 89, and I has facts to believe it am
+true. I 'longed to Marse Jesse Briggs. Did you know dat it was two Jesse
+Briggs? Yes sir, sho was two Jesse Briggses.
+
+"What I gwine to relate to you is true, but in respect to my old Marse,
+and in de case dat dem what reads dat book won't understand, you needs
+not to write dis statement down. My marster was called 'Black Jesse',
+but de reason fer dat was to keep him from gitting mixed up wid de other
+Jesse. Dat is de secret of de thing. Now dat's jes' fer your own light
+and knowledge, and not to be wrote down. He was de blacksmith fer all de
+Cross Keys section, and fer dat very thing he got de name by everybody,
+'Black Jesse'. I allus 'longed to dat man and he was de kindest man what
+de countryside had knowledge of.
+
+"In Union County is whar I was born and raised, and it's whar I is gwine
+to be buried. Ain't never left de county but once in my life, and if de
+Lawd see fitten, I ain't gwine to leave it no mo', 'cept to reach de
+Promise Land. Lawd! Lawd! De Promise Land, dat's whar I is gwine when I
+leaves Union County. Dey carried me a hundred miles to cure a sick
+woman, onliest time I ever left Union County. I loves it and I is fit
+throughout and enduring de time dem Yankees tried to git de county, to
+save it. What is I gwine to leave it fer? Mr. Perrin and all de white
+folks is good to me since my marse done gone and left his earthly home.
+And he is waiting up dar wid Missie to see me agin. Dat I is sho of.
+
+"Listen brother, de Lawd is setting on His throne in Glory. He hear
+every word dat I gwine to tell you. Folks fergits dat when dey talks
+real often sometimes, don't dey? I put my hand on any 'flux' man or
+woman and removes de pain, if dey have faith in my hand. I don't tell
+nothing but de truth. I was born on Gist Briggs' plantation in Union
+County, in de lower section of Cross Keys. Marse Sexton and all dem good
+folks in lower Keys says dat I sho is 88. Give my name right flat, it's
+George Briggs; giving it round, it like dis, George McDuffie Briggs. My
+papa's name was Ike Wilburn, and my mother's name was Margaret Briggs.
+Pa 'longed to Marse Lige Wilburn. Mama 'longed to Jesse (Black Jesse)
+Briggs. Dey both born and raised in Union County. Dese was my brothers
+and sisters, coming in de order dey was born to my parents in: Charlie,
+Dave, Aaron, Tom, Noah, Charlotte, Polly, Fannie, Mattie, Horace,
+Cassie. I'm de oldest, and Cassie and me lives in Union County. Fannie
+and Mattie lives in Asheville, and de rest is done journeyed to de
+Promise Land. Yes Lawd, to de Promise Land.
+
+"Marse and Missus was good to us all. Missus name was Nancy. She die
+early and her grave is in Cross Keys at de Briggs graveyard. Be still!
+Lemme git my mind together so dat I don't git mixed up and can git you
+de Briggses together. Here 'tis: Cheney and Lucindy, Lucindy married a
+Floyd from Spartanburg, and de Floyds lived at de Burn't factory. Cheney
+Briggs had a son, Henry Briggs.
+
+"Not so fast, fer I'se gwine to start way back, dat time when us was
+lil' darky boys way back in slavery. We started to work wid de marster's
+mules and hosses. When us was real little, we played hoss. Befo' Cheney
+Briggs went to Arkansas he was our play hoss. His brother, Henry, was de
+wagoner and I was de mule. Henry was little and he rid our backs
+sometimes. Henry rid old man Sam, sometimes, and old man Sam jes' holler
+and haw haw at us chilluns. Dis was in sech early childhood dat it is
+not so I can 'zactly map out de exact age us was den; anyway, from dis
+we rid de gentle hosses and mules and larn't how to feed dem. Every word
+dat I tells you is de truth, and I is got to meet dat word somewhars
+else; and fer dat reason, de truth is all dat dis old man ever tells.
+
+"In dat day we lived in a log cabin or house. Sometimes us never had
+nothing to do. Our house had only one room, but some of de houses had
+two rooms. Our'n had a winder, a do', and a common fireplace. Now dey
+makes a fireplace to scare de wood away. In old days dey made fireplaces
+to take care of de chilluns in de cold weather. It warm de whole house,
+'cause it was so big and dar was plenty wood. Wood wasn't no problem
+den, and it ain't no problem yet out in de lower Keys. In town it is,
+and I ain't guessing. I done seed so.
+
+"I sho can histronize de Confederates. I come along wid de Secession
+flag and de musterings. I careful to live at home and please de Marse.
+In de war, I'se mo' dan careful and I stick close to him and please him,
+and he mo' dan good. Us did not git mobbed up like lots of dem did.
+
+"When Tice Myers' chilluns was born, he had a house built wid a
+up-stairs. But never no stage coach stopped dar as I ever heard tell
+about, and I done saw 75 years at Padgett's Creek.
+
+"Way 'tis, from de bundle of de heart, de tongue speaketh. Been in
+service reg'lar since Monday. I went to Neal Greege's house but she
+wasn't dar. I is speaking 'bout Ria (Maria Rice). She done gone to town.
+At de highway, de Lawd prepared a friend to carry me to Union, and when
+I got dar I take and lay hands on Ria Rice, she laying down and
+suffering, and I sot down and laid my hand on her. We never say nothing,
+jes' pray. She be real quiet, and atter while, she riz up and take a
+breath. She kept on a setting up fer so long dat her husband make her
+lay back down fer fear dat she git worser. I stay dar all through de
+night and she sleep sound and wake up dis morning feeling like a new
+woman.
+
+"Befo' breakfast, here is de words of praise I lifted to de Lawd, over
+dar on Tosch. You set down de coser (chorus): 'First to de graveyard;
+den to de Jedgement bar!' Is you got dat verser (verses)? Den git dis:
+'All de deacons got to go; all de members got to go; all de sinners got
+to go.' Mo' 'longs to it, but dat's all I takes when I is praising Him
+fer relieving pain through me. (He sings each line five times. He takes
+off his hat; bows; holds his hands over his head, and closes his eyes
+while singing. His hair is snow white.)
+
+"Lawd, help me dis morning! Here's another first line to one of our
+songs: 'All dem preachers got to go'.
+
+"Nehemiah, when he wid de king, de king axed him to reveal de wall whar
+his father was buried. Nehemiah did what de king had done axed him. I
+'tends Galilee Baptist church in lower Cross Keys; and at Sedalia, I
+goes to New Hope Methodist church, but I don't know nothing else but
+Baptist. We peoples is barrence (barren of the Holy Spirit), but not
+God; He, Hisself, is born of God, and all is of de same source and by
+dat I means de Spirit. All has to be born of de Spirit to become
+chilluns of God. Romans, Chap. 6, 'lows something like dis: 'He dat is
+dead in sin, how is it dat he can continue in sin?' Dat tell us dat
+every man, white or black, is de child of God. And it is Christ dat is
+buried in baptism, and we shall be buried in like manner. If Christ did
+not rise, den our preaching is in vain. And if we is not born agin, why
+den we is lost and our preaching is in vain.
+
+"In picking up de New Testament, consider all dat you hear me arguing
+and saying is from a gift and not from edication. Romans 6, 'lows:
+'Speak plain words, not round words, kaise all de round words is fer dem
+dat is edicated.' Jacob had twelve sons. Dey went and bundled up deir
+wheat, and eleven bundles bowed to de one. Dat Joseph's bundle what he
+done up. Other brothers up and got and sold Joseph into captivity to de
+Egyptians. Dat throw'd Jacob to send Reuben to Egypt. Den dey bowed to
+Jacob and his sons. It run on and on till dey all had to go to Egypt,
+and all of dem had to live under Joseph.
+
+"When I was a little shaver and come to myself. I was sleeping in a
+corded bed. (He scratched his head) I jes' studying fer a minute; can't
+'zactly identify my grandpa, but I can identify my grandma. We all
+raised on de same place together. She name Cindy Briggs, but dey call
+her Cina kaise dar was so many Cindys 'round dar. One thing I does
+'member 'bout her, if she tote me, she sho to whip me. I was raised
+strict.
+
+"All my life I is stayed in de fur (far) end of Union County whar it
+borders Laurens, wid de Enoree dividing de two counties. It is right dar
+dat I is plowed and hoed and raised my craps fer de past 75 years, I
+reckons. Lawd have mercy! No, I doesn't recalls de names of none of dem
+mules. Dat's so fur back dat I is jes' done forgot, dat's all. But I
+does recall 'fur back' things de best, sometimes. Listen good now. When
+I got big and couldn't play 'round at chillun's doings, I started to
+platting cornshucks and things fer making hoss and mule collars, and
+scouring-brooms and shoulder-mats. I cut hickory poles and make handles
+out of dem fer de brooms. Marse had hides tanned, and us make buggy
+whips, wagon whips, shoe strings, saddle strings and sech as dat out of
+our home-tanned leather. All de galluses dat was wo' in dem days was
+made by de darkies.
+
+"White oak and hickory was split to cure, and we made fish baskets, feed
+baskets, wood baskets, sewing baskets and all kinds of baskets fer de
+Missus. All de chair bottoms of straight chairs was made from white oak
+splits, and de straight chairs was made in de shop. You made a scouring
+brush like dis: (He put his hands together to show how the splits were
+held) By splitting a width of narrow splits, keep on till you lay a
+entire layer of splits; turn dis way; den dat way, and den bind together
+and dat hold dem like you want dem to stay. Last, you work in a pole as
+long as you want it fer de handle, and bind it tight and tie wid de
+purtiest knots.
+
+"I git money fer platting galluses and making boot strings and other
+little things. Allus first, I desires to be well qualified wid what I
+does. I is gwine to be qualified wid everything dat I does, iffen I does
+it fer money or no. Dat's de reason white people has allus give me words
+of encouragement.
+
+"Now I gwine to sing a song fer Miss Polly, kaise she de grand-daughter
+of de late Sheriff Long, and I goes to see her grandma at de Keys (Cross
+Keys House). Dar she come now.
+
+"How is you dis morning, Miss Polly? De Lawd sho does shower you, Miss
+Polly, and dat's de reason I is gwine to sing fer you dis morning.
+You'll be able to tell Mr. Jimmie (her father) dat Uncle George sing fer
+you, 'Jesus Listening All De Day Long'.
+
+  "Jesus listening all de day long to hear some sinner pray.
+  De winding sheet to wrop (wrap) dis body in,
+  De coffin to hold you fast;
+  Pass through death's iron do'.
+  Come ye dat love de Lawd and let your joy be know'd;
+  Dis iron gate you must pass through, if you gwine to be
+  Born agin."
+
+He sang these lines over three times and then bowing, said: "Ain't it
+glory dat we can live whar de Lawd can use us? Dat's power. A strong man
+entereth in; a weak man cometh out. Dat represent Christ gwine into your
+heart.
+
+"Sho I can remember when dey had de mustering grounds at de Keys. Dar
+day mustered and den dey turn't in and practiced drilling dem soldiers
+till dey larn't how to march and to shoot de Yankees. Drilling, dat's de
+proper word, not practice, I knows, if I ain't ed'icated. Dey signed me
+to go to de 16th regiment, but I never reached de North. When us got to
+Charleston, us turn't around and de bosses fetched us right back to
+Union through Columbia. Us heard dat Sherman was coming, fetching fire
+along 'hind him.
+
+"Don't know nothing 'bout no militia to make no statement, but it went
+on and turn't back. Another regiment had a barbecue somewhars in Union
+County befo' it went off to war; might a been de 18th regiment, but I
+does not feel dat I can state on dat.
+
+"My soul reaches from God's foot-stool up to his heavenly home. I can
+histronize de poor white folks' wives and chilluns enduring de time of
+de Civil War fer you. When dese poor white men went to de war, dey left
+deir little chillun and deir wives in de hands of de darkies dat was
+kind and de rich wives of our marsters to care fer. Us took de best care
+of dem poor white dat us could under de circumstances dat prevailed.
+
+"We was sont to Sullivan's Island, but befo' we reached it, de Yankees
+done got it and we won't 'lowed to cross in '64. But jes' de same, we
+was in service till dey give Capt. Franklin Bailey 'mission to fetch us
+home. Dar we had to git 'mission fer everything, jes' as us niggers had
+to git 'mission to leave our marster's place at home in Union County.
+Capt. Bailey come on back to Cross Keys wid us under his protection, and
+we was under it fer de longest time atter we done got home.
+
+"Fer 65 years I been licensed as a preacher, and fer longer dan dat I
+been a member of Padgett's Creek Baptist church. Mo' work I does, mo'
+work I has to do. You know how to pray. Well, you does not know how to
+make polish out of pinders.
+
+"I ain't ed'icated yet, but even Lige what teaches school out to de Keys
+(de big black school), dat big black buck dat teaches de chilluns deir
+'rithmetic; even he couldn't do dis here one. A heap of ed'icated folks
+can't give it. Here it is: 'What's de biggest figger in de figger ten?'"
+
+With his old black, rough and gnarled forefinger he drew on the table
+the figure 1. "Now you see dat? Dat's de figger 1. A naught ain't
+nothing by itself or multiplied by other naughts; but set it down in
+front of de figger 1, and it takes on de value 9. Dar you is got
+ten--one and nine is ten. Dat naught becomes something. I is old, and I
+ain't had narry bit of schooling, but I likes to be close to de orchard,
+and I knows it's dar by de smell of it. Dat's de way I is when I gits
+along side ed'icated folks--I knows dat dey is.
+
+"It's like dat sum dem scholars couldn't git; standing alone dat naught
+ain't worth nothing, but set it up against dat which is of value and it
+takes on value. Set a naught ag'inst dat which is one and you has ten;
+set up another naught dar and you has a hundred. Now if somebody was to
+give me a note worth $10, and I found room to add another naught along
+side of de first; den dem two naughts what ain't worth nothing by
+deirselves gives de note de value of $99 if dey is sot along wid de one.
+Ed'icated folks calls dat raising de note. I is ig'nant and I calls dat
+robbery. And dat's like you and me. We is naughts and Christ is de
+_One_, and we ain't nothing till we carries de Spirit of de Lawd along
+wid us.
+
+"On de pathway of life, may you allus keep Christ in front of you and
+you will never go wrong. De Lawd will den see fit to give you a soul dat
+will reach from His foot-stool here on earth to His dwelling place on
+high." He ended with a deep sob and good-bye.
+
+  Source: George Briggs (88), Union, S. C. RFD 2.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 6/9/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  July 20, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"Some white men called in question today about de reigning governor
+enduring time of de Civil War. I knowed dat, and 'cides dat, I knowed
+him well. It was Governor 'Bill' as us called him.
+
+"What you want to git, is history about muster grounds. Yes, it was on
+Jones Ferry Road, jest south of Cross Keys whar dey had what dey allus
+called de muster field. Now, Jones Ferry Road leads across Enoree River
+into Laurens County. Enoree River is de thing dat devides Union County
+from Laurens County, dat it is.
+
+"Well as I remember, Mr. Bill Ray was in de mustering of de 18th
+Regiment. Billy, Robert, Sara and Miss Nancy was Mr. Alex's chilluns.
+Understand me, don't think dat Bob and Sam was in de Regiment ...
+satisfied Billy was, kaise he used to pass our house on horse back,
+coming from de Laurens side where he lived.
+
+"Sixteen-year-old boys come in de same time dat I did. Course I ain't
+told all dat I knows, kaise dat wouldn't be proper. All I tell you, I
+wants it to be recognized. De better it's done, de better it'll help
+you.
+
+"I goes from home and stays five days or more, and don't nothing happen
+to a thing at my home. I does fer de sick and de Lawd blesses me. He
+looks atter my things while I am away. He soon shows his presence atter
+I gits dar. He calls fer me and I feeds Him.
+
+"Once had 26 biles (boils). Dat make me consider my disobedience against
+de Lawd. Den I went to Him in prayer. He told me Satan done got ahead of
+Him. Dat show me dat I done forgot to be particular. I got mo' 'ticular
+and pray mo' often, and in six weeks my biles had done all gone.
+
+"Dar is times when I gits lost fer not knowing. I can't keep up, kaise I
+cannot read. Man in Sunday school reads and I hears. He read de olden
+Testament; den he read de new Testament. Dat my schooling. I 'clar unto
+you, I got by all my life by praying and thinking. I sho does think a
+lot. ('Uncle' George's facial and scalp muscles work so when he thinks,
+that his straw hat moves up and down.)
+
+"When good man prays fer bad man, de Holy Ghost works on bad man's
+consciousness, and afo' he knows it, he's a-saying 'Lawd have Mercy'
+'stead of 'G'dam', like all wicked folks says every day. He--dat de Holy
+Ghost dat I still is speaking of--jest penetrates de wicked man's
+consciousness widout him a-knowing it. Dat penetrating make de bad man
+say, 'Lawd have Mercy.' I hoes and I cuts sprouts, and den I plows. When
+you plows, mules is allus so aggravating dat dey gits you all ruffled
+up. Dat de devil a-working at you. Dat's all old mules is anyhow. I does
+not cuss, nohow, kaise it sho am wicked and I is had de Holy Spirit in
+my soul, now gone sixty-five years, since I jined Padgett Creek Church.
+When my old mule gits to de row's end, and he act mulish--kaise dat's in
+him and he don't know nothing else to do--I means to say either 'ha' or
+'gee', and often since I jined Padgett Creek Church I finds myself
+saying 'Lawd have Mercy' 'stead of 'gee' or 'ha'. So you see dat de Lawd
+has command, whar-so-ever if I was wicked, Satan would.
+
+"A child fo God allus will agree wid de Word of God. We mens dat claim
+to be leaders in de Kingdom, got to step up and sho folks what dey must
+do. Man learns right smart from Exodus 'bout how to lead. A male child
+was born to rule de world. Moses still de strongest impression dat we
+has as rulers. God gits Hisself into de heads of men dat he wants to
+rule and He don't tell nobody else nothing 'bout it neither.
+
+"Mr. Roosevelt de president and he sho looks atter de po' folks. He
+ain't no ig'nant man neither, kaise he got de light. Folks ain't a-gwine
+to drown him out neither wid dere wicked words 'gainst him, kaise he
+strive in de Lawd's name to do His will. Mr. Roosevelt got learning like
+I is from de throne of God. He may have education also, but if he is, he
+sho knows how to keep dem both jined together. Folks reads to me how he
+got crippled and how he washed in dem springs in Georgia, and dat keep
+him a-gwine right on anyhow. It ain't dem springs by deself, but it's
+God a dipping his hand down dar fer de President to git well. Oh yes,
+suh, I knows dat he twan't de president when he was a-washing, but dem
+de plans dat de Lawd had done already planned and you and me never
+know'd nothing 'bout all dat. You and me does not know what is planned
+up in sto' fer us in de future neither.
+
+"I is a Baptist, and at Padgett's Creek we does not believe in no
+back-sliding. 'Once in de Spirit, allus in de Spirit'. A child of your'n
+is allus a child of your'n. Dat de way de Baptist teach--once a child of
+God, allus God's child. T'ain't no sech thing as drapping back. If you
+draps back, you ain't never been no child of de Lawd, and you never had
+no business being baptized. Christ was baptized in de waters of Jordan,
+won't (weren't) He? Well, He never drapped back, did He? He say we must
+follow in His footsteps, didn't He? Well, dar you is, and dat's all dar
+is to it.
+
+"God gits in de heads of men to help de aged and de po' also. I never
+axes fer nothing, but when I sets around de courthouse and informs men
+as I been doing dis evening, de Lawd has dem to drap a nickle or a dime
+or a quarter in my hand but He never gits dem to a half of a dollar."
+
+  Source: George Briggs, (88) Rt. 2, Union, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/12/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  July 12, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"What-so-ever I can find! I traveling dat way over 73 years. If he ax de
+Lawd and have faith, he ken do; and iffen he don't have no faith, by den
+he can't. When a man comes along dat wants his own way, and he won't pay
+no attention to de Lawd, by den de Lawd don't pay him no mind; and so
+dat man jest keeps a-gwine on wid his way and he don't never reach de
+Cross. Jesus say, 'deny yourself, pick up de Cross and follow Me.'
+
+"I see a man in de courthouse dis morning, and he was like Nicodemus.
+Why dat man want to be resto'd back like he was when he was jest 21
+years old. I seed him setting down dar in Mr. Perrin's office, and I
+knowed his troubles when he 'low dat he done been to every doctor in
+town. De trouble was, he never had no faith in de doctors and nobody
+else. How could he have faith in Jesus when he never had none in nothing
+else? Brother, you has to have faith in your fellowman befo' you has
+faith in de Lawd. I don't know how come, but dat's de way it is. My plan
+is working by faith. Jesus say, 'Work widout faith ain't nothing; but
+work wid faith'll move mountains'.
+
+"Dat man told me he gwine give me a hundred dollars if I rid him of
+misery. Dat show he never know nothing 'bout faith.
+
+"If Mr. Emslie Nicholson ax me to rid him of a misery, I couldn't take
+no money from him, and he de richest man in all Union County. Mr.
+Nicholson would know better dan to offer me money, kaise he has faith.
+You know he's a good 'Presmuterian' (Presbyterian).
+
+"Dey looks at de back of my head, and de hair on it ain't rubbed against
+no college and fer dat reason dese young negroes don't want me to
+preach. Dey wants to hear dat man preach dat can read. Man dat can read
+can't understand less'n some divine man guide him. I speak as my Teacher
+gives it to me, dat's de Lawd. In so doing, I testify de word dat no man
+can condemn. Dat is my plan of Salvation: to work by faith widout price
+or purse, as de Lawd, my Teacher has taught me.
+
+"Dar was no church on our plantation when I was a boy. All de Baptists
+went to Padgett's Creek, and all de Methodist went to Quaker Church and
+Belmont. Padgett's Creek had a section in de back of de church fer de
+slaves to sit. Quaker Church and Belmont both had slaves' galleries. Dar
+is a big book at Padgetts wid three pages of slaves' names that was
+members. Mr. Claude Sparks read it to me last year. All de darky members
+dead, but one, dat's me.
+
+"Nobody never read de Bible to me when I was little. It jest a gift of
+God dat teached to me through de Holy Ghost. It's de Spirit of de One in
+Three dat gits into you, and dat's de Holy Ghost or de Holy Spirit dat
+gives me my enlightment.
+
+"If I can git to de do' of Padgett's Creek Church, I can jest feel de
+Power of God. ('Uncle' George pats his foot and softly cries at this
+point, and his face takes on a calm and peaceful expression.)
+
+"If you eats befo' you gits hongry, you never will feast on dead air. I
+makes it a practice to feed my soul and body befo' dey gits hongry. Even
+I does eat by myself, dis old man take off his hat and ax de Lawd to
+bless his soul and body in nourishment fer de future.
+
+"I ain't never seed Mr. Lincoln, but from what I learn't dey said dat
+God had placed in him de revelation to give de plan dat he had fer every
+man. Dat plan fer every man to worship under his own vine and fig tree.
+From dat, we should of liked Mr. Lincoln.
+
+"Dis here 'Dick Look-Up'. No sir, I don't know him, kaise I caught his
+name since I come on dis side of de river. Mr. Perrin knows him, and I
+heard him say dat every time anybody ax him how old he is, he add on ten
+years. Dat's how come dey got in de paper he a hundred and twenty-five
+years old. Now me and Mr. Perrin doesn't speak unless we is obleeged to
+know dat what we is gwine to say is de truth. Us is careful, kaise us
+knows dat de Lawd am looking down from his throne, and dat He is
+checking every word dat we says. Some folks does not recall dat fact
+when dey speaks, or dey would be careful.
+
+"I'll say it slow so dat you can catch it; I start in time of de
+Confederate War. Wid dirt dug up out of de smokehouse, water was run
+through it so us could get salt fer bread. Hickory wood ashes was used
+fer soda. If we didn't have no hickory wood, we burnt red corn cobs; and
+de ashes from dem was used fer cooking soda.
+
+"Molasses was made from watermelons in time of de war. Dey was also made
+from May-apples or may-pops as some call dem, and sometimes dey was made
+from persimmons and from wheat brand. In Confederate days, Irish potato
+tops was cooked fer vegetables. Blackberry leaves was ocassionally used
+fer greens or fer seasoning lambs quarters.
+
+"Dis way watermelon was done: Soak watermelon twenty and four hours to
+de'self; strain off all juice and put on fire to bile. When dey thickens
+dey bees good. Yes sir, good, good.
+
+"Wid may-pops: peel de outside green off, den bust 'em open and mash up
+together; strain juice off and cook thick.
+
+"'Simmons and wheat bran are mashed up together and baked in water. Let
+set twenty and four hours and cook down to molasses. Dat winds up dat
+part of it.
+
+"Git plums and blackberries and de like of dat and make up in Jelly, or
+can fer scarce times, dat's de way we done den and folks does dat yet.
+Dese is some of de particularest things of de Confederate times dat I
+come back from Sedalia to give you, dat's right. (This old negro, who
+had already been interviewed by the writer, came a long way and
+looked-up the author to tell him some incidents which he had forgotten
+to tell in the first interview.) Some customs is done went by now, but
+dey was practiced in Sedalia, and as to whar dem was done fer off as
+Spartanburg, I cannot say.
+
+"In Confederate time, all wimmens stayed close home and carded and spun
+all de day long. Dey wove all dere own clothes. Men at home, old men,
+made leather shoes and shoe strings and belts and galloses.
+
+"Our darkies tried hard to be obedient to our master so dat we might
+obtain (keep) our pleasant home. Obedience makes it better dan
+sacrifice. I restes my mind dar."
+
+  Source: George Briggs (88), Rt. 2, Union, S. C.
+          Interviewed by: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (7/7/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, January 27, 1938
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  JOSEPHINE BRISTOW
+  Ex-Slave, 73 Years
+
+
+"Remembers de Confederate War, Miss. Yes, mam, I'm supposed to be, if I
+can live to see February, bout 73 year old. What age Hester say she was?
+Dat what I had thought from me en her conversation. Miss, I don'
+remember a thing more bout de war den de soldiers comin through old
+Massa's plantation en we chillun was 'fraid of dem en ran. Knew dey was
+dressed in a different direction from us white folks. All was in blue,
+you know, wid dem curious lookin hats en dem brass buttons on dey
+bodies. No, mam, dey didn' stop nowhe' bout us. Dey was ridin on horses
+en it seem like dey was in a hurry gwine somewhe'. En dey didn' stop to
+old Massa's house neither. No, mam, not to my knowin, dey didn'. Well,
+we was livin out to de plantation, we calls it, en Massa en Missus was
+livin up here to Marion. Mr. Ferdinand Gibson, dat who been us Massa in
+slavery time en Miss Connie, dat what we used to call her, was us
+Missus. To my knowin, dey didn' have no chillun dey own, but dey sho had
+plenty colored people. Yes, mam, seems like to my remembrance, my Massa
+ran bout 30 plantations en 'sides dat, he had a lot of servants right up
+here to de big house, men en women."
+
+"I was real small in dem days en far as I can remember, we lived on de
+quarter dere to old Massa's plantation in de country. Us little tots
+would go every mornin to a place up on de hill, called de milk house, en
+get our milk 'tween meals while de old folks was off workin. Oh, dey had
+a old woman to see after we chillun en tend to us in de daytime. De old
+lady dat looked after us, her name was Mary Novlin. Lord, Mr. Gibson, he
+had big farms en my mother en father, dey worked on de farms. Yes'um, my
+mother en father, I used to never wouldn' know when dey come home in de
+evenin, it would be so late. De old lady, she looked after every blessed
+thing for us all day long en cooked for us right along wid de mindin.
+Well, she would boil us corn meal hominy en give us dat mostly wid milk
+for breakfast. Den dey would have a big garden en she would boil peas en
+give us a lot of soup like dat wid dis here oven bread. Oh, dem what
+worked in de field, dey would catch dey meals when dey could. Would have
+to cook way in de night or sometimes fore day. Cose dey would take dey
+dinner rations wid dem to de field. More or less, dey would cook it in
+de field. Yes'um, dey would carry dey pots wid dem en cook right dere in
+de field whe' dey was workin. Would boil pots en make bread, too. I don'
+know how long dey had to work, mam, but I hear dem say dat dey worked
+hard, cold or hot, rain or shine. Had to hoe cotton en pick cotton en
+all such as dat. I don' know, mam, but de white folks, I guess dey took
+it dat dey had plenty colored people en de Lord never meant for dem to
+do no work. You know, white folks in dem days, dey made de colored
+people do."
+
+"De people used to spin en weave, my Lord! Like today, it cloudy en
+rainy, dey couldn' work in de field en would have to spin dat day. Man,
+you would hear dat thing windin en I remember, I would stand dere en
+want to spin so bad, I never know what to do. Won' long fore I got to
+whe' I could use de shuttle en weave, too. I bad a grandmother en when
+she would get to dat wheel, she sho know what she been doin. White folks
+used to give de colored people task to spin en I mean she could do dat
+spinnin. Yes'um, I here to tell you, dey would make de prettiest cloth
+in dat day en time. Old time people used to have a kind of dye dey
+called indigo en dey would color de cloth just as pretty as you ever did
+see."
+
+"Den I recollects dat dey would have to shuck corn some of de days en
+wouldn' nobody work in de field dat day. Oh, my Lord, dey would have de
+big eats on dem days. Would have a big pot right out to de barn whe' dey
+was shuckin corn en would boil it full as it could hold wid such as peas
+en rice en collards. Would cook big bread, too, en would save a hog's
+head for dat purpose often times."
+
+"Colored people didn' have no schools nowhe' in dat day en time. No'um,
+us didn' go to no church neither cause we was way off dere on de
+plantation en wasn' any church nowhe' bout dere, Miss. I likes to be
+truthful en I tellin you, when we was comin up, we never didn' know
+nothin 'cept what we catch from de old folks."
+
+"Old Massa, he used to come to de plantation drivin his rockaway en my
+Lord a mercy, we chillun did love to run en meet him. Dey used to have a
+great big gate to de lane of de plantation en when we been hear him
+comin, we would go a runnin en holler, 'Massa comin! Massa comin!' En he
+would come ridin through de big gate en say, 'Yonder my little niggers!
+How my little niggers? Come here en tell me how you all.' Den we would
+go a runnin to him en try to tell him what he ax us. Yes'um, we was sho
+pleased to see old Massa cause we had to stay right dere on dat
+plantation all de time round bout dat old woman what tended to us. Used
+to hear my mother en my father speak bout dey had to get a ticket from
+dey boss to go anywhe' dey wanted to go off de place. Pataroller catch
+dem off de plantation somewhe' widout dat walkin ticket, dey would whip
+dem most to death. Never didn' hear bout old Massa whippin none of dem,
+but he was very tight on dem, my father say. Cose he give dem abundance
+of rations en somethin to eat all de time, but colored people sho been
+work for what dey would get in dem days. Didn' get nothin dey never pay
+for. It been like dis, what rations us parents would get, dat would be
+to dey house en what we chillun been get would be to de old woman's
+house what took care of us."
+
+"Well, Miss, some people stays here wid me, but dey works out en I tries
+to help dem out somehow. No, mam, we all stays right here together en
+while dey on de job, I tries to look out for de chillun. I just thinkin
+bout when we come to a certain age, honey, it tough. Chillun is a heap
+of trouble, I say. Well, I was de mother of five, but dey all dead 'cept
+one. My husband, he been dead seven years. Yes'um, dis a bad little girl
+settin here in my lap en dat one over dere in de bed, he a boy what a
+right smart larger den dis one." (Little girl just can stand alone).
+(Little boy wakes up). "Son, dere you wantin to get up en I don' know
+whe' near a rag to put on you is. Dere, you want a piece of bread fore
+you is dress. Who undressed you last night nohow? Boy, you got to stand
+dere en wait till your mamma come home cause I can' find none your rags.
+What de matter wid you? You so hungry, you just standin dere wid your
+mouth droolin dat way. Dere your bread en tea on de bureau. Gwine on en
+get it." (Little boy's breakfast consisted of a cold biscuit and a
+little cold coffee poured in an empty coffee can. The little girl sat
+with a clump of cold hominy in her hand on which she nibbled.)
+
+"Lord, I think what a blessin it would be if chillun dese days was raise
+like dey used to be, Miss. Yes, mam, we had what you call strict fathers
+en mothers den, but chillun ain' got dem dese days. Oh, dey would whip
+you en put de lash to you in dat day en time. Yes'um, Miss, if we never
+do right, my father would put it to us. Sho meant what he say. Wouldn'
+never whip you on Sunday though. Say dat he would get you tomorrow. Den
+when Monday come, he would knock all bout like he had forget, but
+toreckly he would call you up en he would sho work on you. Pa say, 'I'm
+not gwine let you catch me in no lie. When I tell you I gwine cut you, I
+gwine do it.' Miss, I is had my mother to hurt me so bad till I would
+just fall down en roll in de sand. Hurt! Dey hurt, dat dey did. Wouldn'
+whip you wid no clothes on neither. Would make you pull off. Yes, mam, I
+could sniffle a week, dey been cut me such licks. Thought dey had done
+me wrong, but dey know dey ain' been doin me wrong en I mean dey didn'
+play wid me."
+
+"Miss, I think folks is livin too fast in de world today. Seems to me
+like all de young people is worser, I say. Well, I tell you, dey be
+ridin out all times of night en girls meetin up wid Miss Fortune. At
+least, our colored girls does. En don' care what dey do neither. Don'
+seem to care what dey do nor how dey do. De girls nowadays, dey gets dey
+livin. Girls settin higher den what dey makes demselves dese days."
+
+  Source: Josephine Bristow, colored, 73 years, Marion, S. C.
+                 Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Jan., 1938
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  ANNE BROOME
+  EX-SLAVE 87 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"Does you recollect de Galloway place just dis side of White Oak? Well
+dere's where I was born. When? Can't name de 'zact year but my ma say,
+no stork bird never fetch me but de fust railroad train dat come up de
+railroad track, when they built de line, fetched me. She say I was a
+baby, settin' on de cow-ketcher, and she see me and say to pa: 'Reubin,
+run out dere and get our baby befo' her falls off and gets hurt under
+them wheels! Do you know I believed dat tale 'til I was a big girl? Sure
+did, 'til white folks laugh me out of it!
+
+"My ma was name Louisa. My marster was Billie Brice, but 'spect God done
+write sumpin' else on he forehead by dis time. He was a cruel marster;
+he whip me just for runnin' to de gate for to see de train run by. My
+missus was a pretty woman, flaxen hair, blue eyes, name Mary Simonton,
+'til she marry.
+
+"Us live in a two-room plank house. Plenty to eat and enough to wear
+'cept de boys run 'round in their shirt tails and de girls just a
+one-piece homespun slip on in de summer time. Dat was not a hardship
+then. Us didn't know and didn't care nothin' 'bout a 'spectable
+'pearance in those days. Dats de truth, us didn't.
+
+"Gran'pa name Obe; gran'ma, name Rachel. Shoes? A child never have a
+shoe. Slaves wore wooden bottom shoes.
+
+"My white folks went to New Hope Church. Deir chillun was mighty good to
+us all. Dere was Miss Martha, her marry Doctor Madden, right here at
+Winnsboro. Miss Mary marry Marster John Vinson, a little polite smilin'
+man, nice man, though. Then Miss Jane marry Marster John Young. He
+passed out, leavin' two lovely chillun, Kitty and Maggie. Both of them
+marry Caldwells. Dere was Marster Calvin, he marry Congressman Wallace's
+daughter, Ellen. Then dere was Marster Jim and Marster William, de last
+went to Florida.
+
+"It was a big place, I tell you, and heaps and heaps of slaves. Some
+times they git too many and sell them off. My old mistress cry 'bout dat
+but tears didn't count wid old marster, as long as de money come a
+runnin' in and de rations stayed in de smoke house.
+
+"Us had a fine carriage. Sam was de driver. Us go to Concord one Sunday
+and new Hope de next. Had quality fair neighbors. Dere was de
+Cockerells, 'Piscopalians, dat 'tend St. John in Winnsboro, de Adgers,
+big buckra, went to Zion in Winnsboro. Marster Burr Cockerell was de
+sheriff. 'Members he had to hang a man once, right in de open jailyard.
+Then dere was a poor buckra family name Marshall. Our white folks was
+good to them, 'cause they say his pappy was close kin to de biggest
+Jedge of our country, John Marshall.
+
+"When de slaves got bad off sick, marster send for Dr. Walter Brice, his
+kin folks. Some times he might send for Dr. Madden, him's son-in-law, as
+how he was.
+
+"When de Yankees come, all de young marsters was off in de 'Federate
+side. I see them now, gallopin' to de house, canteen boxes on their hips
+and de bayonets rattlin' by deir sides. De fust thing they ask, was:
+'You got any wine?' They search de house; make us sing: 'Good Old Time
+'Ligion'; put us to runnin' after de chickens and a cookin'. When they
+leave they burnt de gin house and everything in dere. They burn de
+smoke-house and wind up wid burnin' de big house.
+
+"You through wid me now, boss? I sho' is glad of dat. Help all you kin
+to git me dat pension befo' I die and de Lord will bless you, honey. De
+Lord not gwine to hold His hand any longer 'ginst us. Us cleared de
+forests, built de railroads, cleaned up de swamps, and nursed de white
+folks. Now in our old ages, I hopes they lets de old slaves like me see
+de shine of some of dat money I hears so much talk 'bout. They say it's
+free as de gift of grace from de hand of de Lord. Good mornin' and God
+bless you, will be my prayer always. Has you got a dime to give dis old
+nigger, boss?"
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  MOM HAGAR
+  (Verbatim Conversation)
+
+
+Mom Hagar Brown lives in her little weathered cabin on forty odd acres
+left by her husband, Caleb Brown. Caleb died in Georgia where he had
+been sent to the penitentiary for stealing a hog that another man stole.
+Aunt Hagar has grands settled all around her and she and the grands
+divide up the acreage which is planted in corn, sweet potatoes, cotton,
+and some highland rice. She ministers to them all when sick, acts as
+mid-wife when necessary, and divides her all with her kin and
+friends--white and black. She wages a war on ground-moles, at which she
+laughs and says she resembles. Ground-mole beans almost a foot long
+protect and decorate her yard. She has apple and fig trees, and
+scuppernong grape vines grow rank and try to climb all her trees.
+
+(Monday morning she hobbles up on a stick--limping and looking sick.)
+Comes in kitchen door.
+
+Lillie: "Aunt Hagar, how you?"
+
+Hagar: "Painful. Doctor tell me I got the tonsil. Want to represent me
+one time and take them out. I say, 'No Doctor! Get in hospital, can't
+get out! Let me stay here till my change come.' Yeddy? I ain't wuth!
+Ain't wuth! Ain't got a piece o' sense. Yeddy? Ellen say she want God to
+take she tomorrow? When you ready it's 'God take me now! All right
+son!" (Greeting Zackie who enters kitchen.)
+
+Zackie: "Aunt Hagar, how you feel?"
+
+Hagar: "I ain't wuth son. How's all?"
+
+Zackie: "Need a little more grits!"
+
+Lillie: "Hear Zackie! Mom Hagar, that ain't hinder him ordering
+another!" (The fact that food is scarce doesn't limit Zackie's family.)
+
+Hagar: "You hear bout this Jeremiah broke in somewhere--get all kinds
+likker and canned things and different thing?"
+
+Zackie: "Must a broke in that place call 'Stumble Inn!' (Very
+seriously.) That Revenue man been there."
+
+Hagar: "I yeddy last night! Say he there in news-paper. Mary say, 'see
+'em in paper!' Mrs. White gone to child funeral. That been in paper too.
+Mary see that in paper. Easter say old lady gone dere. Doctor say better
+go. Child sick. Child seven years old. Fore they get there tell 'em say,
+'Child dead!'
+
+"People gone in patch to pick watermillon. Ain't want child to go. You
+know chillun! Child gone in. Ain't want 'em for go. You know. Child pick
+watermillon. Ketch up one--I forgotten what pound they say. Roll. Roll
+duh watermillon. Roll 'em on snake! They say, 'Snake bite 'em?' Child
+say, 'No. Must a scratch.' See blood run on boy leg. Child get
+unconscion that minute. Gone right out. Jess so. Ease out so. I cry. I
+cry!"
+
+Lillie: "You know 'em, Mom Hagar?"
+
+Hagar: "No! No! Lill, fever got me! Cold get me till my rump dead. Got
+hospital boy rouse one time say, 'Ma, less go home! Red stripe snake
+bite me.'"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Hagar: "Klu Klux?" (Chin cupped in hand--elbow on knee--looking way
+off--)
+
+"Reckon that the way them old timey people call 'em. Have to run way,
+you go church. Going to come in to ketch you or do any mischievous
+thing--come carry you place they going beat you--in suit of white. Old
+white man to Wilderness Plantation. Parish old man name. Treat his wife
+bad. Come to house, ain't crack. Come right in suit of white. Drag him
+out--right to Woodstock there where Mr. Dan get shoot. Put a beating on
+that white man there till he mess up! Oman never gone back to him yet!"
+
+"A man wuz name (I forgot what the man name wuz)--wuz a white man mess
+round wid a colored woman and they didn't do a God thing but gone and
+put a beating on you, darling! Come in. Grab you and go. Put a beating
+on you till you can't see. Know they got a good grub to lick you wid.
+They git done you can't sit down. Ain't going carry you just for play
+with."
+
+"Mom Hagar, you wanter vote?"
+
+Hagar: "Oh my God!"
+
+"Aunt Hagar are the colored people happier now than the old timey
+slavery time people?"
+
+Hagar: "Young people now got the world by force. Don't care. Got more
+trick than law low. Tricky! Can't beat the old people. Can't equal to
+'em. Some the young people you say 'AMEN' in church they make fun o'
+you. Every tub stand on his own bottom. Can't truss 'em.
+
+"Ma say some dem plan to run way. Say, 'Less run! Less run!' Master
+ketch dem and fetch dem in. Lay 'em cross barrel. Beat dem till they
+wash in blood. Fetch 'em back. Place 'em cross the barrel--hogsket
+barrel--Christ! They ramp wash in blood! Beat Ma sister. He sister
+sickly. Never could clear task--like he want. My Ma have to work he self
+to death to help Henritta so sickly. Clear task to keep from beat. Some
+obersheer mean. Oaks labor. (Meaning her Ma and ma's family were
+laboring on Oaks Plantation--the plantation where Gov. Joseph Allston
+and Theodosia his wife lived on Waccamaw.) Mother Sally Doctor. Ma got
+four chillun. One was Emmeline, one Getty, one Katrine one Hagar! I
+older than Gob (Katrine). Could a call doctor for Gob if I had any
+sense." (Big nuff to gone for doctor when Gob born.)
+
+  "Stay in the field!
+  Stay in the field!
+  Stay in the field till the war been end!"
+
+(This is Aunt Hagar's favorite song)
+
+  Mom Hagar Brown--age 77
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  July 4th, 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  (Some recollections of Mom Hagar Brown)
+
+
+Visitor: "Mom Hagar, how old did you say you were?"
+
+Hagar: "Don't take care of my age! Had me gang of chillun when ma die. I
+had Samuel, I had Elias, I had Arthur, I had Beck. Oh, my God! Man, go
+way! I had Sally! I had Sally again. I didn't want to give the name
+'Sally' again. Say, 'First Sally come carry girl.' Ma say, 'Gin 'em name
+'Sally!' I faid (afraid) that other one come back for him. Had to do
+what Ma say. Had to please 'em. Ma name Sally. Ma chillun Catrine,
+Hagar, Emmeline, Gettie. I born Columbia. Come Freedom, when we left
+Columbia, ma finer till we get in Charston. Freedom come, battle till we
+get 'Oaks.' (Battled till they reached the 'Oaks Plantation--.')Stay
+there till people gin (begin) move bout. Come Watsaw. Gone 'Collins
+Creek.' In the 'Reb Time' you know, when they sell you bout--Massa sell
+you all about. Broke through them briar and branch and thing to go to
+church. Them patrol get you. Church 'Old Bethel.' You don't know 'em.
+Been gone!
+
+"I yeddy ma! (heard my mother) Ma say, 'I too glad my chillun aint been
+here Rebs time! Gin you task you rather drown than not done that task!
+Ma say Auntie poor we weak creeter, couldn't strain. Ma had to strain to
+fetch sister up with her task. Dere (there) in rice-field. Ma say they
+on flat going to islant (island), see cloud, pray God send rain! When
+rooster crow, say they pray God to stop 'em! Rooster crow, broke up
+wedder! When rooster crow, scare 'em. Broke up rain! Ma say they drag
+the pot in the river when the flat going cross. Do this to make it rain.
+Massa! Don't done you task, driver wave that whip, put you over the
+barrel, beat you so blood run down! I wouldn't take 'em! Ma say, 'I too
+glad my chillun aint born then!'
+
+"Any cash money? Where you gwine get 'em? Only cash the gospel! Have to
+get the gospel. Give you cloth! Give you ration! Jess (just according)
+many chillun you got. Ma say chillun feed all the corn to the fowl.
+
+  Chillun say,
+
+    'Papa love he fowl!
+    Papa love he fowl!
+    Three peck a day!
+    Three peck a day!
+
+"Parent come to door. Not a grain of corn leave! Poor people! Come,
+drop! Not a grain! Everybody on the hill help. One give this; one give
+that. Handle 'em light! (Very careful with victuals). Gone you till
+Saddy (Saturday.) (Will last you until Saturday when you are rationed
+again.)
+
+"When Ma get down, she say, 'I gone leave! I gone leave here now! But,
+oh, Hagar! Be a mudder and fadder for Katrine!'
+
+"I say, (I call Katrine 'Gob') I say, 'Better tell Gob to look atter
+me!'
+
+"Ma say, 'When I gone I ax the Master when he take me, to send drop o'
+rain to let true believer know I gone to Glory!'
+
+"When they lift the body to take 'em to the church, rain, 'Tit! Tit!
+Tit! Tit!' on the house! At the gate, moon shine out' Going to the
+church! Bury to the 'Oaks.'
+
+"Gob say, 'Titty, all you chillun bury at Oaks. Ma to Oaks. How come you
+wanter bury Watsaw?"
+
+"I say, 'When the trumpet sound, I yeddy!' (When the trumpet sounds,
+I'll hear it!)
+
+"I marry right to Collins Creek hill. Big dance out the door! I free! I
+kick up! Ma, old rebs time people!"
+
+  Mom Hagar Brown
+  Age--(She says 'Born first o'
+  Freedom' but got her age from
+  a contemporary and reported 77)
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  EX-SLAVE STORY
+  (Verbatim)
+
+
+"My old man can 'member things and tell you things and he word carry. We
+marry to Turkey Hill Plantation. Hot supper. Cake, wine, and all. Kill
+cow, hog, chicken and all. That time when you marry, so much to eat!
+Finance wedding! Now--
+
+"We 'lamp-oil chillun'; they 'lectric light' chillun now! We call our
+wedding 'lamp-oil wedding'. Hall jam full o' people; out-of-door jam
+full. Stand before the chimbley.
+
+"When that first war come through, we born. I don't know just when I
+smell for come in the world.
+
+"Big storm? Yinnah talk big storm hang people up on tree? (Noah!) Shake?
+I here in house. House gone, 'Rack-a-rack-a-racker!'
+
+"My husband run out--with me and my baby left in bed! Baby just come in
+time of the shake.
+
+"When I first have sense, I 'member I walk on the frost bare-feet.
+Cow-belly shoe.
+
+"My husband mother have baby on the flat going to Marion and he Auntie
+Cinda have a baby on that flat.
+
+"From yout (youth) I been a Brown and marry a Brown; title never change.
+
+"Old timey sing?
+
+  1.
+
+  "Wish I had a hundred dog
+  And half wuz hound!
+  Take it in my fadder field
+  And we run the rabbit down!
+  Chorus: Now he hatch
+  He hatch!
+  He hatch!
+  And I run the rabbit down!
+
+  2.
+
+  "I wish I had a hundred head o' dog
+  And half of them wuz hound
+  I'd take 'em back in my bacco field
+  And run the rabbit down.
+  Chorus: Now he hatch--he hatch!
+  He hatch--he hatch!
+  Now he hatch--he hatch!
+  And I run them rabbit down!"
+
+"That wuz a sing we used to have on the plantation. Then we make up
+sing--we have sing for chillun. Make 'em go sleep. Every one have his
+own sing.
+
+  "Bye-o-baby!
+  Go sleepy!
+  Bye-o-baby!
+  Go sleepy!
+  What a big alligator
+  Coming to catch
+  This one boy!"
+
+  "Diss here the Watson one boy child!
+  Bye-o-baby go sleepy!
+  What a big alligator
+  Coming to catch this one boy!"
+
+Emmie Jordan: "Missus, I too plague with bad heart trouble to give you
+the sing!"
+
+  Song and conversation Given by
+
+  Mom Louisa Brown (Born time of 'Reb people War')
+  Waverly Mills, S. C.
+  Near Parkersville, S. C.
+
+
+
+  Project -1655
+  Jessie A. Butler
+  Charleston, S. C.
+  Approximately 930 words
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  Stories from Ex-slaves
+  Henry Brown
+  Ex-slave Age 79
+
+
+Henry Brown, negro caretaker of the Gibbes House, at the foot of Grove
+street, once a part of Rose Farm, is a splendid example of a type once
+frequently met with in the South. Of a rich brown complexion, aquiline
+of feature, there is none of the "Gullah" about Henry. He is courteous
+and kindly in his manner, and speaks more correctly than the average
+negro.
+
+"My father was Abram Brown, and my mother's name was Lucy Brown," he
+said. "They were slaves of Dr. Arthur Gordon Rose. My grandfather and
+grandmother were grown when they came from Africa, and were man and wife
+in Africa. I was born just about two years before the war so I don't
+remember anything about slavery days, and very little about war times,
+except that we were taken to Deer Pond, about half mile from Columbia.
+Dr. Rose leased the place from Dr. Ray, and took his family there for
+safety. My mother died while he was at Deer Pond, and was buried there,
+but all the rest of my people is buried right here at Rose Farm. My two
+brothers were a lot older than me, and were in the war. After the war my
+brother Tom was on the police force, he was a sergeant, and they called
+him Black Sergeant. My brother Middleton drove the police wagon: they
+used to call it Black Maria.
+
+"My father, Abram Brown, was the driver or head man at Rose plantation.
+Dr. Rose thought a heap of him, and during the war he put some of his
+fine furniture and other things he brought from England in my father's
+house and told him if the Yankees came to say the things belonged to
+him. Soon after that the soldiers came. They asked my father who the
+things belonged to and he said they belonged to him. The soldiers asked
+him who gave them to him, and he said his master gave them to him. The
+Yankees told him that they thought he was lying, and if he didn't tell
+the truth they would kill him, but he wouldn't say anything else so they
+left him alone and went away.
+
+"Work used to start on the plantation at four o'clock in the morning,
+when the people went in the garden. At eight or nine o'clock they went
+into the big fields. Everybody was given a task of work. When you
+finished your task you could quit. If you didn't do your work right you
+got a whipping.
+
+"The babies were taken to the Negro house and the old women and young
+colored girls who were big enough to lift them took care of them. At one
+o'clock the babies were taken to the field to be nursed, then they were
+brought back to the Negro house until the mothers finished their work,
+then they would come for them.
+
+"Dr. Rose gave me to his son, Dr. Arthur Barnwell Rose, for a Christmas
+present. After the war Dr. Rose went back to England. He said he
+couldn't stay in a country with so many free Negroes. Then his son Dr.
+Arthur Barnwell Rose had the plantation. Those was good white people,
+good white people.
+
+"The colored people were given their rations once a week, on Monday,
+they got corn, and a quart of molasses, and three pounds of bacon, and
+sometimes meat and peas. They had all the vegetables they wanted; they
+grew them in the gardens. When the boats first came in from Africa with
+the slaves, a big pot of peas was cooked and the people ate it with
+their hands right from the pot. The slaves on the plantation went to
+meeting two nights a week and on Sunday they went to Church, where they
+had a white preacher Dr. Rose hired to preach to them.
+
+"After the war when we came back to Charleston I went to work as a
+chimney-sweep. I was seven years old then. They paid me ten cents a
+story. If a house had two stories I got twenty cents; if it had three
+stories I got thirty cents. When I got too big to go up the chimneys I
+went back to Rose plantation. My father was still overseer or driver. I
+drove a cart and plowed. Afterwards I worked in the phosphate mines,
+then came back here to take care of the garden and be caretaker. I
+planted all these Cherokee roses you see round here, and I had a big
+lawn of Charleston grass. I aint able to keep it like I used to."
+
+Henry is intensely religious. He says "the people don't notice God now
+because they're free." "Some people say there aint no hell," he
+continued, "but I think there must be some kind of place like that,
+because you got to go some place when you leave this earth, and you got
+to go to the master that you served when you were here. If you serve God
+and obey His commandments then you go to Him, but if you don't pay any
+attention to what he tells you in His Book, just do as you choose and
+serve the devil, then you got to go to him. And it don't make any
+difference if you're poor or rich, it don't matter what the milliner
+(millionaire) man says."
+
+He seemed so proud of his garden, with its broad view across the Ashley
+River, showing his black walnut, pear and persimmon trees, grape vines
+and roses, that the writer said, "Henry, you know a poet has said that
+we are nearer God in the garden than anywhere else on earth." "Well
+ma'am, you see," he replied, with a winning smile, "that's where God put
+us in the first place."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Augustus Ladson
+  Charleston, S. C.
+
+  EX-SLAVE BORN 1857
+  GRAND PARENTS CAME DIRECTLY FROM AFRICA
+
+
+I was nickname' durin' the days of slavery. My name was Henry but they
+call' me Toby. My sister, Josephine, too was nickname' an' call' Jessee.
+Our mistress had a cousin by that name. My oldes' bredder was a Sergeant
+on the Charleston Police Force around 1868. I had two other sister',
+Louise an' Rebecca.
+
+My firs' owner was Arthur Barnwell Rose. Then Colonel A. G. Rhodes
+bought the plantation who sol' it to Capen Frederick W. Wagener. James
+Sottile then got in possession who sol' it to the DeCostas, an' a few
+weeks ago Mrs. Albert Callitin Simms, who I'm tol' is a former member of
+Congress, bought it. Now I'm wonderin' if she is goin' to le' me stay. I
+hope so 'cus I'm ol' now en can't work.
+
+My pa was name' Abraham Brown; he was bo'n on Coals Islan' in Beaufort
+County. Colonel Rhodes bought him for his driver, then he move here. I
+didn't know much 'bout him; he didn't live so long afta slavery 'cus he
+was ol.
+
+Colonel Rhodes had a son an' a daughter. The son went back to England
+afta his death an' the daughter went to Germany with her husban'. They
+ain't never come back so the place was sol' for tax.
+
+Durin' the war we was carry to Deer Pond, twelve miles on dis side of
+Columbia. W'en the war was end' pa brought my sister, Louise, Rebecca,
+who was too small to work, Josephine an' me, home. All my people is
+long-lifted. My grand pa an' grand ma on pa side come right from Africa.
+They was stolen an' brought here. They use to tell us of how white men
+had pretty cloth on boats which they was to exchange for some of their
+o'nament'. W'en they take the o'nament' to the boat they was carry way
+down to the bottom an' was lock' in. They was anchored on or near
+Sullivan's Islan' w'ere they been feed like dogs. A big pot was use' for
+cookin'. In that pot peas was cook' an' lef' to cool. Everybody went to
+the pot with the han's an' all eat frum the pot.
+
+I was bo'n two years before the war an' was seven w'en it end. That was
+in 1857. I never went to school but five months in my life, but could
+learn easy. Very seldom I had to be tol' to do the same thing twice.
+
+The slaves had a plenty o' vegetables all the time. Master planted t'ree
+acres jus' for the slaves which was attended to in the mornin's before
+tas' time. All provision was made as to the distribution on Monday
+evenin's afta tas'.
+
+My master had two place: one on Big Islan' an' on Coals Islan' in
+Beaufort County. He didn't have any overseer. My pa was his driver.
+
+Pa say this place was given to Mr. Rhodes with a thousand acres of lan'
+by England. But it dwindled to thirty-five w'en the other was taken back
+by England.
+
+There wasn't but ten slaves on this plantation. The driver call' the
+slaves at four so they could git their breakfas'. They always work the
+garden firs' an' at seven go in the co'n an' cotton fiel'. Some finish
+their tas' by twelve an' others work' 'til seven but had the tas' to
+finish. No one was whip' 'less he needed it; no one else could whip
+master' slaves. He wouldn't stan' for it. We had it better then than now
+'cause white men lynch an' burn now an' do other things they couldn't do
+then. They shoot you down like dogs now, an' nothin' said or done.
+
+No slave was suppose' to be whip' in Charleston except at the Sugar
+House. There was a jail for whites, but if a slave ran away an' got
+there he could disown his master an' the state wouldn't le' him take
+you.
+
+All collud people has to have a pass w'en they went travelin'; free as
+well as slaves. If one didn't the patrollers, who was hired by rich
+white men would give you a good whippin' an' sen' you back home. My pa
+didn't need any one to write his pass 'cause he could write as well as
+master. How he got his education, I didn't know.
+
+Sat'day was a workin' day but the tas' was much shorter then other days.
+Men didn't have time to frolic 'cause they had to fin' food for the
+fambly; master never give 'nough to las' the whole week. A peck o' co'n,
+t'ree pound o' beacon, quart o' molasses, a quart o' salt, an' a pack o'
+tobacco was given the men. The wife got the same thing but chillun
+accordin' to age. Only one holiday slaves had an' that was Christmas.
+
+Co'nshuckin' parties was conducted by a group of fa'mers who take their
+slaves or sen' them to the neighborin' ones 'til all the co'n was
+shuck'. Each one would furnish food 'nough for all slaves at his party.
+Some use to have nothin' but bake potatas an' some kind of vegetable.
+
+An unmarried young man was call' a half-han'. W'en he want to marry he
+jus' went to master an' say there's a gal he would like to have for
+wife. Master would say yes an' that night more chicken would be fry an'
+everything eatable would be prepare at master' expense. The couple went
+home afta the supper, without any readin' of matrimony, man an' wife.
+
+A man once married his ma en' didn't know it. He was sell from her w'en
+'bout eight years old. When he grow to a young men, slavery then was
+over, he met this woman who he like' an' so they were married. They was
+married a month w'en one night they started to tell of their experiences
+an' how many times they was sol'. The husban' tol' how he was sol' from
+his mother who liked him dearly. He tol' how his ma faint' w'en they
+took him away an' how his master then use to bran' his baby slaves at a
+year ol'. W'en he showed her the bran' she faint' 'cause she then
+realize' that she had married her son.
+
+Slaves didn't have to use their own remedy for sickness for good doctors
+been hired to look at them. There was, as is, though, some weed use for
+fever an' headache as: blacksnake root, furrywork, jimpsin weed, one
+that tie' on the head which bring sweat from you like hail, an' hickory
+leaf. If the hickory is keep on the head too long it will blister it.
+
+W'en the war was fightin' the white men burn the bridge at the foot of
+Spring Street so the Yankees couldn't git over but they buil' pontoos
+while some make the horses swim 'cross. One night while at Deer Pond, I
+hear something like thunder until 'bout eleven the next day. W'en the
+thing I t'ought was thunder stop', master tell us that evenin' we was
+free. I wasn't surprise to know for as little as I was I know the
+Yankees was goin' to free us with the help of God.
+
+I was married twice, an' had two gals an' a boy with firs' wife. I have
+t'ree boys with the second; the younges' is jus' eight.
+
+Lincoln did jus' what God inten' him to do, but I think nothin' 'bout
+Calhoun on 'account of what he say in one of his speech 'bout collud
+people. He said: "keep the niggers down."
+
+To see collud boys goin' 'round now with paper an' pencil in their han's
+don't look real to me. Durin' slavery he would be whip' 'til not a skin
+was lef' on his body.
+
+My pa was a preacher why I become a Christian so early; he preach' on
+the plantation to the slaves. On Sunday the slaves went to the white
+church. He use to tell us of hell an' how hot it is. I was so 'fraid of
+hell 'til I was always tryin' to do the right thing so I couldn't go to
+that terrible place.
+
+I don't care 'bout this worl' an' its vanities 'cause the Great Day is
+comin' w'en I shall lay down an' my stammerin' tongue goin' to lie
+silent in my head. I want a house not made with han's but eternal in the
+Heavens. That Man up there, is all I need; I'm goin' to still trus' Him.
+Before the comin' of Chris' men was kill' for His name sake; today they
+curse Him. It's nearly time for the world to come to en' for He said
+"bout two thousand years I shall come again" an' that time is fas'
+approachin'.
+
+  Source
+
+  Interview with Henry Brown, 637 Grove Street. He is much concerned with
+  the Scottsboro Case and discusses the invasion of Italy into defenseless
+  Ethiopia intelligently.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon,
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  JOHN C. BROWN AND ADELINE BROWN
+  EX-SLAVES 86 YEARS AND 96 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+John C. Brown and his wife, Adeline, who is eleven years older than
+himself, live in a ramshackle four-room frame house in the midst of a
+cotton field, six miles west of Woodward, S. C. John assisted in laying
+the foundation and building the house forty-four years ago. A single
+china-berry tree, gnarled but stately, adds to, rather than detracts
+from, the loneliness of the dilapidated house. The premises and
+thereabout are owned by the Federal Land Bank. The occupants pay no
+rent. Neither of them are able to work. They have been fed by charity
+and the W. P. A. for the past eighteen months.
+
+(John talking)
+
+"Where and when I born? Well, dat'll take some 'hear say', Mister. I
+never knowed my mammy. They say she was a white lady dat visited my old
+marster and mistress. Dat I was found in a basket, dressed in nice baby
+clothes, on de railroad track at Dawkins, S. C. De engineer stop de
+train, got out, and found me sumpin' like de princess found Moses, but
+not in de bulrushes. Him turn me over to de conductor. De conductor
+carry me to de station at Dawkins, where Marse Tom Dawkins come to meet
+de train dat mornin' and claim me as found on his land. Him say him had
+de best right to me. De conductor didn't 'ject to dat. Marse Tom carry
+me home and give me to Miss Betsy. Dat was his wife and my mistress. Her
+always say dat Sheton Brown was my father. He was one of de slaves on de
+place; de carriage driver. After freedom he tell me he was my real
+pappy. Him took de name of Brown and dat's what I go by.
+
+"My father was a ginger-bread colored man, not a full-blooded nigger.
+Dat's how I is altogether yallow. See dat lady over dere in dat chair?
+Dat's my wife. Her brighter skinned than I is. How come dat? Her daddy
+was a full-blooded Irishman. He come over here from Ireland and was
+overseer for Marse Bob Clowney. He took a fancy for Adeline's mammy, a
+bright 'latto gal slave on de place. White women in them days looked
+down on overseers as poor white trash. Him couldn't git a white wife but
+made de best of it by puttin' in his spare time a honeyin' 'round
+Adeline's mammy. Marse Bob stuck to him, and never 'jected to it.
+
+"When de war come on, Marse Richard, de overseer, shoulder his gun as a
+soldier and, as him was educated more than most of de white folks, him
+rise to be captain in de Confederate Army. It's a pity him got kilt in
+dat war.
+
+"My marster, Tom Dawkins, have a fine mansion. He owned all de land
+'round Dawkins and had 'bout 200 slaves, dat lived in good houses and
+was we well fed. My pappy was de man dat run de mill and grind de wheat
+and corn into flour and meal. Him never work in de field. He was 'bove
+dat. Him 'tend to de ginnin' of de cotton and drive de carriage.
+
+"De Yankees come and burn de mansion, de gin-house and de mill. They
+take all de sheep, mules, cows, hogs and even de chickens. Set de slaves
+free and us niggers have a hard time ever since.
+
+"My black stepmammy was so mean to me dat I run away. I didn't know
+where to go but landed up, one night, at Adeline's mammy's and
+steppappy's house, on Marse Bob Clowney's place. They had been slaves of
+Marse Bob and was livin' and workin' for him. I knock on de door. Mammy
+Charity, dat's Adeline's mammy, say: 'Who dat?' I say: 'Me'. Her say:
+'Who is me?' I say: 'John'. Her say: 'John who?' I say: 'Just John'. Her
+say: 'Adeline, open de door, dat's just some poor boy dat's cold and
+hungry. Charity is my fust name. Your pappy ain't come yet but I'll let
+dat boy in 'til he come and see what he can do 'bout it.'
+
+"When Adeline open dat door, I look her in de eyes. Her eyes melt
+towards me wid a look I never see befo' nor since. Mind you, I was just
+a boy fourteen, I 'spects, and her a woman twenty-five then. Her say:
+'You darlin' little fellow; come right in to de fire.' Oh, my! She took
+on over me! Us wait 'til her pappy come in. Then him say: 'What us gonna
+do wid him?' Adeline say: 'Us gonna keep him.' Pappy say: 'Where he
+gonna sleep?' Adeline look funny. Mammy say: 'Us'll fix him a pallet by
+de fire.' Adeline clap her hands and say: 'You don't mind dat, does you
+boy?' I say: 'No ma'am, I is slept dat way many a time.'
+
+"Well, I work for Marse Bob Clowney and stayed wid Adeline's folks two
+years. I sure made myself useful in dat family. Never 'spicioned what
+Adeline had in her head, 'til one day I climbed up a hickory nut tree,
+flail de nuts down, come down and was helpin' to pick them up when she
+bump her head 'ginst mine and say: 'Oh, Lordy!' Then I pat and rub her
+head and it come over me what was in dat head! Us went to de house and
+her told de folks dat us gwine to marry.
+
+"Her led me to de altar dat nex' Sunday. Gived her name to de preacher
+as Adeline Cabean. I give de name of John Clowney Brown. Marse Bob was
+dere and laugh when de preacher call my name, 'John Clowney Brown'.
+
+"Our chillun come pretty fast. I was workin' for $45.00 a year, wid
+rations. Us had three pounds of bacon, a peck of meal, two cups of
+flour, one quart of 'lasses, and one cup of salt, a week.
+
+"Us never left Marse Robert as long as him lived. When us have four
+chillun, him increase de amount of flour to four cups and de 'lasses to
+two quarts. Then him built dis house for de old folks and Adeline and de
+chillun to live in. I help to build it forty-four years ago. Our chillun
+was Clarice, Jim, John, Charity, Tom, Richard, and Adeline.
+
+"I followed Marse Robert Clowney in politics, wore a red shirt, and
+voted for him to go to de Legislature. Him was 'lected dat time but
+never cared for it no more.
+
+"Adeline b'long to de church. Always after me to jine but I can't
+believe dere is anything to it, though I believes in de law and de Ten
+Commandments. Preacher calls me a infidel. Can't help it. They is maybe
+got me figured out wrong. I believes in a Great Spirit but, in my time,
+I is seen so many good dogs and hosses and so many mean niggers and
+white folks, dat I 'clare, I is confused on de subject. Then I can't
+believe in a hell and everlastin' brimstone. I just think dat people is
+lak grains of corn: dere is some good grains and some rotten grains. De
+good grains is res'rected, de rotten grains never sprout again. Good
+people come up again and flourish in de green fields of Eden. Bad people
+no come up. Deir bodies and bones just make phosphate guano, 'round de
+roots of de ever bloomin' tree of life. They lie so much in dis world,
+maybe de Lord will just make 'lie' soap out of them. What you think else
+they would be fit for?"
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Martha S. Pinckney
+  Charleston, S. C.
+
+  FOLKLORE
+  Approx. 660 words
+
+  INTERVIEW WITH EX-SLAVE
+  Age 88-90
+
+
+Mary Frances Brown is a typical product of the old school of trained
+house servants, an unusual delicate type, somewhat of the Indian cast,
+to which race she is related. She is always clean and neat, a refined
+old soul, as individuals of that class often are. Her memory, sight and
+hearing are good for her advanced age.
+
+"Our home Marlboro. Mas Luke Turnage was my
+master--Marlboro-Factory-Plantation name 'Beauty Spot'. My missis was
+right particular about neat and clean. She raise me for a house girl. My
+missis was good to me, teach me ebbery ting, and take the Bible and
+learn me Christianified manners, charity, and behaviour and good
+respect, and it with me still.
+
+"We didn't have any hard times, our owners were good to us--no over
+share (overseer) and no whippin'--he couldn't stan' that. I live there
+'til two year after freedom; how I come to leave, my mother sister been
+sick, and she ask mother to send one of us, an she send me. My mother
+been Miss Nancy cook. Miss Nancy was Mas Luke's mother--it take me two
+years learning to eat the grub they cook down here in Charleston. I had
+to learn to eat these little piece of meat--we had a dish full of meat;
+the big smoke house was lined from the top down. (Describing how the
+meat hung) I nebber accustom to dese little piece of meat, so--what dey
+got here. Missis, if you know smoke house, didn't you find it hard? My
+master had 'til he didn't know what to do with. My white people were
+Gentile." (Her tone implied that she considered them the acme of gentle
+folks). "I don't know what the other people were name that didn't have
+as much as we had--but I know my people were Gentile!"
+
+Just here her daughter and son appeared, very unlike their mother in
+type. The daughter is quite as old looking as her mother; the son, a
+rough stevedore. When the writer suggested that the son must be a
+comfort, she looked down sadly and said in a low tone, as if
+soliloquizing, "He way is he way." Going back to her former thought, she
+said, "All our people were good. Mas Luke was the worse one." (This she
+said with an indulgent smile) "Cause he was all the time at the race
+ground or the fair ground.
+
+"Religion rules Heaven and Earth, an there is no religion
+now--harricanes an washin-aways is all about. Ebberything is change. Dis
+new name what they call grip is pleurisy-cold--putrid sore-throat is
+called somethin'--yes, diptheria. Cuttin (surgery) come out in 1911!
+They kill an they cure, an they save an they loss.
+
+"My Gran'ma trained with Indians--she bin a Indian, an Daniel C. McCall
+bought her. She nebber loss a baby." (the first Indian relationship that
+the writer can prove). "You know Dr. Jennings? Ebberybody mus' know him.
+After he examine de chile an de mother, an 'ee alright, he hold de nurse
+responsible for any affection (infection) that took place.
+
+"Oh! I know de spiritual--but Missis, my voice too weak to sing--dey
+aint in books; if I hear de name I can sing--'The Promise Land', Oh, how
+Mas Joel Easterling (born 1796) use to love to sing dat!"
+
+  "I am bound for de Promise Land!
+  Oh! who will arise an go with me?
+  I am bound for the Promise Land!
+  I've got a mother in the Promise Land,
+  My mother calls me an I mus go,
+  To meet her in the Promise Land!"
+
+  Source: Mary Frances Brown, Age 88-90, East Bay Street, Charleston,
+          S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Cassels R. Tiedeman
+  Charleston, S. C.
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  INTERVIEW WITH AN EX-SLAVE
+
+
+Mary Frances Brown, about ninety years of age, born in slavery, on the
+plantation of Luke Turnage, in Marlboro County, was raised as a
+house-servant and shows today evidence of most careful training. Her
+bearing is rather a gentle refined type, seemingly untouched by the
+squalor in which she lives. She willingly gives freely of her small
+store of strength to those around her.
+
+Her happiest days seem to have been those of her early youth, for when
+she was questioned about the present times, and even about those closely
+associated with her today she bowed her head and said: "Deir way is deir
+way. O! let me tell you now, de world is in a haad (hard) time, wust
+(worse) den it eber (ever) been, but religion! It eberywhere in Hebben
+an' in de ert (earth) too, if you want em. De trouble is you ain't want
+em; 'e right dere jes de same but de time done pass when dis generation
+hold wid anyt'ing but de debbul. When I a gal, grown up, I had a tight
+missus dat raise me, you hab to keep clean round her, she good an' kind
+an' I lub her yet, but don't you forgit to mind what she say.
+
+"My massa, he 'low no whipping on de plantation, he talk heap an' he
+scold plenty, but den he hab to. Dere was haad time for two year after
+de war was ober (over) but after dat it better den it is now. Dis is de
+wust time eber. I ain't eber git use to de wittle (victual) you hab down
+here. I lib ober Mount Pleasant twenty five year after I come from de
+old place up Marlboro, den I come to Charleston.
+
+"Dey were happy time back dere. My massa, he run round ebery way, spend
+plenty money on horse race, he gib good time to eberybody an' tell us we
+mus' tek good care of de missus when he ain't dere. An de wittles we hab
+I ain't nebber see de lak no time. Dem were de times to lib. I old now
+but I ain't forgit what my missus larn (learn) me. It right here in me."
+
+Mary Frances was asked if she could sing spirituals. The following is
+one that she sang in a very high pitched wavering voice and then she
+complained of shortness of breath on account of her heart.
+
+  "We got a home ober dere,
+  Come an' let us go,
+  Come an' let us go,
+  Where pleasure neber (never) die.
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  "Oh! let us go where pleasure neber die,
+  Neber die,
+  Come and let us go,
+  Where pleasure neber die, neber die.
+
+  "Mother is gone ober dere,
+  Mother is gone ober dere,
+  Where pleasure neber die,
+  Where pleasure neber die.
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  "Father is gone ober dere,
+  Father is gone ober dere,
+  Where pleasure neber die,
+  Where pleasure neber die.
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  "Sister is gone ober dere,
+  Sister is gone ober dere,
+  Where pleasure neber die,
+  Where pleasure neber die.
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  "Brudder is gone ober dere,
+  Brudder is gone ober dere,
+  Where pleasure neber die,
+  Where pleasure neber die."
+
+  Chorus:
+
+  Source: Interview with Mary Frances Brown, 83 East Bay St.,
+          Charleston, S. C. (age--90)
+
+
+
+
+  Code No. ----
+  Project. 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, July 8, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced From ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  MOM SARA BROWN
+  Ex-Slave, 85 years
+
+
+"Oh, my God, de doctors have me in slavery time. Been here de startin of
+de first war. I belong to de Cusaac dat live 15 miles low Florence on de
+road what take you on to Georgetown. I recollects de Yankees come dere
+in de month of June en free de colored peoples."
+
+"My white folks give me to de doctors in dem days to try en learn me for
+a nurse. Don' know exactly how old I was in dat day en time, but I can
+tell you what I done. My Lord, child, can' tell dat. Couldn' never tell
+how many baby I bring in dis world, dey come so fast. I betcha I got
+more den dat big square down dere to de courthouse full of em. I nurse
+13 head of chillun in one family right here in dis town. You see dat all
+I ever did have to do. Was learnt to do dat. De doctor tell me, say,
+when you call to a 'oman, don' you never hesitate to go en help her en
+you save dat baby en dat mother both. Dat what I is always try to do.
+Heap of de time just go en let em pay me by de chance. Oh, my Lord, a
+'oman birth one of dem babies here bout two weeks ago wid one of dem
+veil over it face. De Lord know what make dat, I don', but dem kind of
+baby sho wiser den de other kind of baby. Dat thing look just like a
+thin skin dat stretch over da baby face en come down low it's chin. Have
+to take en pull it back over it's forehead en den de baby can see en
+holler all it ever want to. My blessed, honey, wish I had many a dollar
+as I see veil over baby face. Sho know all bout dem kind of things."
+
+"Oh, honey, I tell you de people bless dis day en time. Don' know nothin
+bout how to be thankful enough for what dey have dese days. I tell de
+truth de peoples sho had to scratch bout en make what dey had in slavery
+time. Baby, dey plant patches of okra en parch dat en make what coffee
+dey have. Den dey couldn' get no shoes like dey hab dese days neither.
+Just make em out of de hide of dey own cows dat dey butcher right dere
+on de plantation. Coase de peoples had plenty sometin to eat like meat
+en turkey en chicken en thing like dat. Oh, my God, couldn' see de top
+of de smoke house for all de heap of meat dey have in dem times. En milk
+en butter, honey, dey didn' never be widout plenty of dat. De peoples
+bout here dese days axes ten cents a quart for sweet milk en five cents
+a quart for old sour clabber. What you think bout dat? Dat how-come
+people have to hunt jobs so mucha dese days. Have to do some sorta work
+cause you know dey got to put sometin in dey mouth somewhe' or another.
+Oh, my child, slavery days was troublesome times. Sugar en salt never
+run free wid de peoples den neither. I know de day been here when salt
+was so scarce dat dey had to go to de seashore en get what salt dey had.
+I gwine to tell you all bout dat. Dey hitch up two horses to a wagon en
+den dey make another horse go in front of de wagon to rest de other
+horses long de way. Dey mostly go bout on a Monday en stay three days.
+Boil dat salty water down dere en fetch two en three of dem barrel of
+salt back wid em dey get dat way. It was just like dis, it take heap of
+salt when dey had dem big hog-killin days. En de sugar, dey make dat
+too. Made de sugar in lil blocks dat dey freeze just like dey freeze ice
+dis day en time. I know dey do dat--know it. Dey make molasses en some
+of it would be lighter den de other en dey freeze dat en make de
+prettiest lil squares just like de ice you see dese days. Dey have
+sometin to freeze it in. Dis here old black mammy know heap of things
+you ain' never hear bout. Oh, baby, de peoples sho bless dese days."
+
+"Oh, my god, de colored peoples worship to de white folks church in
+slavery time. You know dat Hopewell Church over de river dere, dat a
+slavery church. Dat whe' I go to church den wid my white folks. I had a
+lil chair wid a cowhide bottom dat I always take everywhe' I go wid me.
+If I went to church, dat chair go in de carriage wid me en den I take it
+in de church en set right by de side of my Miss. Dat how it was in
+slavery time. Oh, my Lord, dere a big slavery people graveyard dere to
+dat Hopewell Church."
+
+"Honey, you mind if I smoke my pipe a lil whilst I settin here talkin
+wid you. I worry so much wid dis high blood dese days en a ringin in my
+ears dat my pipe de only thing dat does seem to satisfy my soul. I tell
+you dat high blood a bad thing. It get such a hold on me awhile back dat
+I couldn' do nothin, couldn' pick cotton, couldn' say my--me, couldn'
+even say, God a mighty--thing pretty. Oh, I don' know. I start smokin
+pipe long time ago when I first start nursin babies. Had to do sometin
+like dat den."
+
+"No, Lord, I never believe nothin bout dat but what God put here. I hear
+some people say dey was conjure, but I don' pay no attention to dey
+talk. Dey say somebody poison em for sometin dey do, but dere ain'
+nobody do dat. God gwine to put you down when he get ready. Ain' nobody
+else do dat."
+
+"Oh, my Lord, I been here a time. I sho been here a time en I thank de
+Lord I here dis day en time. I can thread my needle good as ever I could
+en I ain' have no speck neither. Sew night en day. De chillun have dey
+lamp dere studyin en I hab my lamp dere sewin. My old Miss learnt me to
+sew when I stay right in de house wid her all de time. I stay bout white
+folks all my life en dat how-come I so satisfy when I wid em."
+
+  Source: Mom Sara Brown, age 85, ex-slave, Marion, S. C.
+                 Personal interview, June 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No. ----
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, September 10, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  MOM SARA BROWN
+  Ex-Slave, 85 Years
+
+
+"I stay in house over dere cross Catfish Swamp on Miss Addie McIntyre
+place. Lives wid dis grand-daughter dat been sick in bed for four weeks,
+but she mendin some now. She been mighty low, child. It start right in
+here (chest) en run down twixt her shoulder. She had a tear up cold too,
+but Dr. Dibble treat her en de cough better now. She got three chillun
+dere dat come just like steps. One bout like dat en another like dat en
+de other bout like dis."
+
+"De house we stay in a two room house wid one of dese end chimney. All
+sleep in de same room en cook en eat in de other room. My bed on one
+side en Sue bed on de other side. Put chillun on quilts down on de floor
+in de other end of de room. Baby, whe' dem curtains you say you gwine
+give me? I gwine hang dese up in Sue room. Dey help me fix up de room
+nice en decent like."
+
+"It all on me to feed en clothe both dem chillun en de baby too. It just
+too much on me old as I is. Can' do nothin worth to speak bout hardly
+dese days. Can' hold my head down cause dis high blood worries me so
+much. It get too hot, can' iron. If ain' too hot, I makes out to press
+my things somehow en sweep my yard bout. Sometimes I helps little bit
+wid doctor case, but not often. Can wash de baby en de mother, but can'
+do no stayin up at night. No, baby, can' do no settin up at night."
+
+"I tries to catch all what little I can to help along cause dat how I
+was raise up. Government truck brings me little somethin once a month
+pack up in packages like dry milk en oatmeal en potatoes. Give dat to
+all dem dat can' work en ain' got nobody to help dem. Dat dry milk a
+good thing to mix up de bread wid en den it a help to fix little milk en
+bread for dem two little ones. De potatoes, I stews dem for de chillun
+too. Dey mighty fond of dem. Now de oatmeal, de chillun don' eat dat so
+I fixes it for Sue en every now en den I takes a little bit wid my
+breakfast."
+
+"I don' know much what to tell you bout Abraham Lincoln. I think he was
+a mighty great man, a mighty great man, what I hear of him."
+
+"I remembers de Yankees come dere to my white folks plantation one day
+en, child, dere was a time on dat place. All dem niggers was just a
+kickin up dey heels en shoutin. I was standin dere on de piazza lookin
+at dem en I say, 'I don' see why dey want to carry on like dat for. I
+been free all de time.' When dey get through de Yankees tell dem dey was
+free as dey Massa was en give dem so many bushels of corn en so much
+meat for dey own. Some take dey pile en go on off en some choose to stay
+on dere wid dey Missus. She was good to all her colored people en dey
+stay on dere for part de crop. Give dem so much of de crop accordin to
+de chillun dey had to feed. I know dis much, dey all know dey gwine get
+12 bushels of corn a year, if dey ain' get no more. Dat a bushel every
+month. Yes, dat how it was."
+
+"O Lord, baby, I don' know a thing bout none of dat thing call conjurin.
+Don' know nothin bout it. Dat de devil work en I ain' bother wid it. Dey
+say some people can kill you, but dey ain' bother me. Some put dey trust
+in it, but not me. I put my trust in de Lord cause I know it just a talk
+de people have. No, Lord, I can' remember dat neither. I hear dem say
+Raw Head en Bloody Bones would catch you if you be bad, but how it
+started, I don' know. I know I don' know nothin bout how dey look en I
+don' want to see dem neither. No, child, people say dey sho to be, but I
+ain' see none. How dey look, I don' know."
+
+"I don' know what to think bout de times dese days. De times worse den
+dey used to be, child. You know dey worse. Dis here a fast time de
+people livin on cause everybody know de people die out heap faster den
+dey used to. Don' care how dey kill you up. No, child, dey sho worser.
+My people en yunnah people. Don' it seem so to you dat dey worser?"
+
+"Baby, I got to get up from here en leave now cause I huntin medicine
+dis mornin. I ain' got time to tell you nothin else dis time, but I
+gwine get my mind fix up on it en den your old black mammy comin back
+fore long en stay all day wid you en your mamma. What time dat clock say
+it now, honey? I got to hurry en catch de doctor fore he get away from
+his office en be so scatter bout till nobody can' tell whe' he is. Dr.
+Dibble a good doctor, a mighty good doctor. When he come, don' never
+come in no hurry. Takes pains wid you. Dat been my doctor. I is just
+devoted to him."
+
+  Source: Mom Sara Brown, ex-slave, age 85, Marion, S. C.
+                 Second Report.
+
+                 Personal interview, September, 1937 by Annie Ruth
+                 Davis, Marion, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Georgetown County
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  (Some recollections of 'The Reb Time day' given by
+  Aunt Margaret Bryant)
+
+
+Visitor: "How are you Aunt Margaret?"
+
+Margaret: "Missus, I ain't wuth! I ain't wuth!"
+
+Visitor: "Aunt Margaret you've been here a long time. How old are you?"
+
+Margaret: "I can't tell you my age no way in the world! When freedom
+come, I been here. Not big nuff (enough) for work for the Reb, but I
+been here Reb time. Been big nuff (enough) to know when Yankee gun-boat
+come to Watsaw (Wachesaw). Whole gang o' Yankee come to the house and
+didn't do a thing but ketch (catch) a gang o' fowl and gone on. And tell
+the people (meaning the slaves) to take the house and go in and get what
+they want. The obersheer (overseer) hear the Doctor whistle to the gate
+and wabe (wave) him back. And then the Doctor know the Yankee been there
+and he gone on to the creek house and get all he gold and ting (thing)
+out the house and gone--Marion till Freedom then he come back.
+
+"Yankee come in that night. Moon shine lak a day. Stay in the Doctor
+house that night. Morning come, take a gang o' fowl and gone on!"
+
+Visitor: "Aunt Margaret, what was your name before you were married?"
+
+Margaret: "Margaret One. Brother and sister? I ain't one when I come
+here. Ain't meet aunty, uncle--none. Me and my brudder Michael wuz twin.
+I ain't meet none when I come here. All been sell. Me and my Ma One
+here. Mary One. Husband title, husband nichel (initial) been 'One.'
+Number one carpenter--give 'em that name Michael One--and he gibe 'em
+that name. Born Sandy Island. Been to landing to Watsaw when gun-boat
+come. Just a sneak long! Boat white. Hab (have) a red chimbley
+(chimney.) Didn't try to carry we off. Tell 'em 'Go and help youself.'
+Been after the buckra. (The Yankee trying to catch the buckra.)
+
+"I see my Ma dye with some bush they call 'indigo,' and black walnut
+bark. Big old pen for the sheep-folds.
+
+"My Pa sister, Ritta One had that job. Nuss (nurse) the chillun. Chillun
+house. One woman nuss (nurse) all the chillun while they ma in the
+field--rice field. All size chillun. Git the gipsy (gypsum) weed. Beat
+'em up for worm. Give 'em when the moon change. Take a bucket and follow
+dem. And tell the Doctor how much a worm that one make and that one and
+count dem (them). When the moon change, do that.
+
+"I have one born with caul. Loss he caul. Rat carry 'em. Ain't here; he
+see nothin. (The custom seems to be, to preserve the caul.)
+
+"Child born feet fore-most see 'um too." (See spirit) "Talk chillun? Put
+duh switch. Put you 'Bull pen.' Hab 'um (have them) a place can't see
+you hand before you. Can't turn round good in there. Left you in there
+till morning. Give you fifty lash and send you to work. You ain't done
+that task, man and woman lick!
+
+"Couldn't manage my ma. Obersheer (overseer) want to lick ma, Mary One
+say, 'Going drownded meself! I done my work! Fore I take a lick, rather
+drownded meself.'" Obersheer gone tell the Doctor. Tie her long rope.
+Right to Sandy Island. Man hold the rope. Gone on. Jump in river. So
+Doctor say, 'You too good labor for drown. Take dem (them) to Watsaw.'
+Me and she and man what paddle the boat. Bring her to weave. Two womans
+fuh card; two spin. Ma wop 'em off. Sail duh sheckel (shuttle) through
+there.
+
+"Po-buckra come there and buy cloth from Ma. Buy three and four yard. Ma
+sell that, have to weave day and night to make up that cloth to please
+obersheer. Come big day time. 'Little chillun, whey (where) Mama?' Tell
+'em Ma to the weaving house. Don't have money fuh pay. Bring hog and
+such like as that to pay.
+
+"You know Marse Allard age? Me and Marse Allard suck together. Me and
+Marse Allard and my brudder Michael. My ma fadder mix wid (with) the
+Injun. Son Larry Aikens. Stay Charston (Charlestown). Just as clean!
+(Meaning Larry, her Uncle, very bright skin. Mixed with Indian.) See 'em
+the one time. Come from Charston bring Doctor two horse."
+
+  Given by Aunt Margaret Bryant
+  Age--(Born before Freedom)
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  SAVILLA BURRELL, EX-SLAVE, 83 YEARS
+
+
+"Our preacher, Beaty, told me that you wanted to see me today. I walked
+three miles dis mornin' before the sun gits hot to dis house. Dis house
+is my grand daughter's house. Willie Caldwell, her husband, work down to
+de cotton mill. Him make good money and take good care of her, bless the
+Lord, I say."
+
+"My Marster in slavery time was Captain Tom Still. He had big plantation
+down dere on Jackson Crick. My Mistress name was Mary Ann, though she
+wasn't his fust wife--jest a second wife, and a widow when she
+captivated him. You know widows is like dat anyhow, 'cause day done had
+'sperience wid mens and wraps dem 'round their little finger and git dem
+under their thumb 'fore the mens knows what gwine on. Young gals have a
+poor chance against a young widow like Miss Mary Ann was. Her had her
+troubles with Marse Tom after her git him, I tell you, but maybe best
+not to tell dat right now anyways."
+
+"Marse Tom had four chillun by his fust wife, dey was John, Sam,
+Henretta and I can't 'member de name of the other one; least right now.
+Dey teached me to call chillun three years old, young Marse and say
+Missie. Dey whip you if dey ever hear you say old Marse or old Missie.
+Dat riled dem."
+
+"My pappy name Sam. My mother name Mary. My pappy did not live on the
+same place as mother. He was a slave of de Hamiltons, and he got a pass
+sometimes to come and be with her; not often. Grandmammy name Ester and
+she belonged to our Marse Tom Still, too."
+
+"Us lived in a log cabin wid a stick chimney. One time de sticks got
+afire and burnt a big hole in de back of de chimney in cold winter time
+wid the wind blowing, and dat house was filled wid fire-sparks, ashes,
+and smoke for weeks 'fore dey tore dat chimney down and built another
+jest like the old one. De bed was nailed to de side of de walls. How
+many rooms? Jest one room."
+
+"Never seen any money. How many slaves? So many you couldn't count dem.
+Dere was plenty to eat sich as it was, but in the summer time before us
+git dere to eat de flies would be all over de food and some was swimmin'
+in de gravy and milk pots. Marse laugh 'bout dat, and say, it made us
+fat."
+
+"Dey sell one of mother's chillun once, and when she take on and cry
+'bout it, Marse say, 'stop dat sniffin' dere if you don't want to git a
+whippin'.' She grieve and cry at night 'bout it. Clothes? Yes Sir, us
+half naked all de time. Grown boys went 'round bare footed and in dey
+shirt tail all de summer."
+
+"Marse was a rich man. 'Fore Christmus dey would kill thirty hogs and
+after Christmus, thirty more hogs. He had a big gin house and sheep,
+goats, cows, mules, hosses, turkeys, geese, and a stallion; I members
+his name, Stockin'-Foot. Us little niggers was skeered to death of dat
+stallion. Mothers used to say to chillun to quiet dem, 'Better hush,
+Stockin'-Foot will git you and tramp you down.' Any child would git
+quiet at dat."
+
+"Old Marse was de daddy of some mulatto chillun. De 'lations wid de
+mothers of dese chillun is what give so much grief to Mistress. De
+neighbors would talk 'bout it and he would sell all dem chillun away
+from dey mothers to a trader. My Mistress would cry 'bout dat.
+
+"Our doctor was old Marse son-in-law, Dr. Martin. I seen him cup a man
+once. He was a good doctor. He give slaves castor oil, bleed dem some
+times and make dem take pills."
+
+"Us looked for the Yankees on dat place like us look now for de Savior
+and de host of angels at de second comin'. Dey come one day in February.
+Dey took everything carryable off de plantation and burnt de big house,
+stables, barns, gin house and dey left the slave houses."
+
+"After de war I marry Osborne Burrell and live on de Tom Jordan place.
+I'se de mother of twelve chillun. Jest three livin' now. I lives wid the
+Mills family three miles 'bove town. My son Willie got killed at de
+DuPont Powder Plant at Hopewell, Virginia, during de World War. Dis
+house you settin' in belongs to Charlie Caldwell. He marry my grand
+daughter, Willie B. She is twenty-three years old."
+
+"Young Marse Sam Still got killed in de Civil War. Old Marse live on. I
+went to see him in his last days and I set by him and kept de flies off
+while dere. I see the lines of sorrow had plowed on dat old face and I
+'membered he'd been a captain on hoss back in dat war. It come into my
+'membrance de song of Moses; 'de Lord had triumphed glorily and de hoss
+and his rider have been throwed into de sea'."
+
+"You been good to listen. Dis is the fust time I can git to speak my
+mind like dis mornin'. All de' people seem runnin' here and yonder,
+after dis and after dat. Dere is a nudder old slave, I'se gwine to bring
+him down here Saturday and talk to you again."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  Sept. 15, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I works on de shares and makes a fair living on a rented farm; don't
+own no land. I was born in Newberry County, near de old Longshore store,
+about 12 miles northwest of Newberry Courthouse on de Henry Burton
+place. My parents belonged to Henry Burton in slavery time. He was our
+marster. I married Betty Burton, a nigger girl whose parents belonged to
+Marse Henry Burton, too.
+
+"We had a good marster and mistress. Dey give us a good place to sleep
+and lots to eat. He had a big four-acre garden where he raised lots of
+vegetables fer his slaves. He had plenty meat, molasses and bread. We
+ground our corn and wheat and made our own feed.
+
+"Marster wouldn't let anybody bother his slaves. He wouldn't 'low his
+overseers or de padrollers to whip 'em. He never whipped one.
+
+"We had no school and no church; but was made to go to de white folks
+church and set in de gallery. When Freedom come, de niggers begin to git
+dere own church, and built small brush huts called 'brush harbors'.
+
+"We didn't do work on Saturday afternoons, but went hunting and fishing
+den, while de women folks cleaned up around de place fer Sunday. De
+marster liked to hunt, and he hunted foxes which was plenty around dere
+den. Now dey is all gone.
+
+"We danced and had gigs. Some played de fiddle and some made whistles
+from canes, having different lengths for different notes, and blowed 'em
+like mouth organs."
+
+  Source: C. B. Burton (79), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (9/10/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+
+  Folklore
+
+  GEORGE ANN BUTLER
+  Ex-Slave 75 Years
+
+
+West of the paved highway at Garnett one may reach, after several miles,
+the old Augusta Road that follows along the Savannah River from Augusta
+to a landing point a little south of Garnett. Miles from the busy
+highway, it passes, in quiet majesty, between fields and woods, made
+rich by the river's overflow and heavy dews. Nature has done her best in
+producing beautiful evergreen trees of immense size and much luxuriant
+shrubbery of many kinds. Live oaks, magnolias, yellow slash pines,
+hollies, and many evergreen shrubs keep the woods even in winter, a
+fascinating wilderness to hunters and nature lovers. On this road George
+Ann Butler lives, and has lived for the seventy-five years of her life.
+
+"I was born an' raised on de Greenwood place. It belonged to ole man Joe
+Bostick. He owned all dese places 'long dese here road. He own de
+Bostick place back yonder; den he own de Pipe Creek place next dat; den
+Oaklawn; den joinin' dat was Greenwood. De Colcock's Elmwood was next.
+My Husband was birth right here on de Pipe Creek, an' been here ever
+since. He kin tell you more'n I kin. I was George Anne Curry before I
+marry.
+
+"I can't remember so much 'bout slavery time. I was crawlin' over de
+floor when slavery time--dey tell me. But atter de war, I 'members.
+Couldn't find no corn seed! Couldn't find no cotton seed! Couldn't find
+no salt! You knows it was hard times when dere wasn't no salt to season
+de vegetables. Had to go down to de salt water an' get de water an'
+boil it for salt. Dat been a long way from here. Must be fifty or sixty
+mile! An' dey couldn't go so fast in dem days. Sufferin' been in de
+neighborhood atter de war pass!
+
+"Cotton was de thing 'way back yonder. An' right 'long dis road dey'd
+haul it. Haul it to Cohen's Bluff! Haul it to Matthews Bluff! Haul it to
+Parichucla! Don't haul it dis way no more! Send de cotton to de
+railroad! But in dem days it was de ships dat carried it to Savannah.
+Cotton seem to be play out now--dey plant so much.
+
+"I hear 'em tell 'bout de war, an' havin' to drill an' step when dey say
+step, an' throw up dey hands, when dey say throw up de hand. Everything
+had to be done jes' so! De war was sure a terrible thing."
+
+  Source: George Anne Butler, R. F. D. Garnett, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+
+  ISAIAH [~HW: Solbert (?)~] BUTLER, EX-SLAVE 79 YEARS
+  [~HW: See Ms. #~]
+
+
+"Yes, dis is Isaiah Butler, piece of him. Ain't much left of him now.
+Yes, I knows all 'bout dis heah country from way back. I was born and
+raised right on dis same place here; lived here all my life 'sides from
+travellin' round a little space. Dere was a rice field not far from dis
+house here, where I plowed up more posts that had been used as
+landmarks! Dis place was de Bostick place, and it jined to de Thomson
+place, and de Thomson place to Edmund Martin's place dat was turned over
+to Joe Lawton, his son-in-law. Bill Daniel had charge of de rice field I
+was telling you 'bout. He was overseer, on de Daniel Blake place. Den
+dere was de Maner place, de Trowell, de Kelly, and de Wallace places.
+Back in dem times dey cultivated rice. Had mules to cultivate it! But
+cotton and corn was what dey planted most of all; 4,000 acres I think
+dey tell me was on dis place. I know it supposed to be more than ten
+miles square. Nobody know de landmarks 'cept me. When de Bostick boys
+came back from out west last year, dey had to come to me to find out
+where dere place was. Dey didn't know nuttin' 'bout it. Dey used to use
+twenty plow, and de hoe hands was over a hundred, I know.
+
+"I 'member when de Yankees come through. I was no more'n a lad, nine or
+ten years old. Bostick had a big gin-house, barn, stables, and such
+like. And when de soldiers come a goat was up on de platform in front of
+de door to de loft of de barn. Dere were some steps leadin' up dere and
+dat goat would walk up dem steps same as any body. De fuss thing de
+Yankees do, dey shoot dat goat. Den day start and tear up eberyt'ing.
+All de white folks had refugeed up North, and dey didn't do nuttin' to
+us niggers.
+
+"Fore dat time I was jes' a little boy too young to do nuttin'. Jes'
+played aroun' in de street. Ole Mr. Ben Bostick used to bring clothes
+an' shoes to us and see dat we was well cared for. Dere was nineteen
+houses in de street for us colored folks. Dey wuz all left by de
+soldiers. But in de year 1882 dere come a cyclone (some folks call it a
+tornado), and knocked down every house; only left four standing. Pieces
+of clothes and t'ings were carried for four or five miles from here. It
+left our house; but it took everyt'ing we had. It took de walls of de
+house, jes' left de floorin', an' it wus turn 'round. Took everyt'ing!
+I'd jes' been married 'bout a year, and you know how dat is. We jes' had
+to scuffle and scuffle 'roun' till de Lord bless us.
+
+"Dere wuz plenty of deer, squirrel, possum, an' rabbits in dem times; no
+more dan dere is now, but dere wuz no hinderance den as now. De deer
+come right up to my door now; dey come all 'roun' dis house, and we
+cain't do nuttin'. De other day one wuz over dere by dat peachtree, an'
+not long ago four of 'em come walkin' right through dis yard. I don't go
+fishin' no more. Folks say de streams is all dried up. But I used to be
+a good fisherman, me an' me ole woman. She's spryer'n me now. I used to
+allus protect her when we wuz young, an' now its her dat's acarin' for
+me. We had our gardens in de ole days, too. Oh, yes'm. Little patches of
+collards, greens an' t'ings, but now I ain't able to do nuttin', jes'
+hang 'roun' de place here.
+
+"My father used to belong to General Butler, Dennis Butler was his name.
+My mother was a Maner, but originally she wuz draw out of de Robert
+estate. Ole Ben Bostick fuss wife wuz a Robert. Dey wuz sure wealthy
+folks. One of 'em went off to sail. Bill F. Robert wuz his name. He had
+so much money dat he say dat he goin' to de end of de world. He come
+back an' he say he went so close hell de heat draw de pitch from de
+vessel. But he lost his eyesight by it. Wa'n't (it was not) long after
+he got back dat he went stone blind.
+
+"My ole boss, preacher Joe Bostick wuz one of de best of men. He wuz
+hard of hearin' like I is, an' a good ole man. But de ole lady, ole
+"Miss Jenny", she wuz very rough. She hired all de overseers, and she do
+all. If'n anybody try to go to de old man wid anyt'ing, she'd talk to
+'em herself an' not let 'em see de old man.
+
+"In slavery time de slaves wuz waked up every morning by de colored
+over-driver blowin' a horn. Ole man Jake Chisolm wuz his name. Jes' at
+daybreak, he'd put his horn through a crack in de upper part of de wall
+to his house an' blow it through dat crack. Den de under-driver would go
+out an' round 'em up. When dey done all dey day-work, dey come home an'
+cook dey supper, an' wash up. Den dey blow de horn for 'em to go to bed.
+Sometime dey have to out de fire an' finish dey supper in de dark. De
+under-driver, he'd go out den and see who ain't go to bed. He wouldn't
+say anyt'ing den; but next mornin' he'd report it to de overseer, an'
+dem as hadn't gone to bed would be whipped.
+
+"My mother used to tell me dat if any didn't do dey day's work, dey'd be
+put in de stocks or de bill-bo. You know each wuz given a certain task
+dat had to be finish dat day. Dat what dey call de day-work. When dey
+put 'em in de stocks dey tie 'em hand and foot to a stick. Dey could lie
+down wid dat. I hear of colored folks doin' dat now to dare chillun when
+dey don't do. Now de bill-bo wuz a stabe (stave) drove in de ground, an'
+dey tied dere hands and den dere feet to dat, standin' up. Dey'd work on
+Saturday but dey wuz give Sundays. Rations wuz give out on Mondays.
+Edmund Lawton went over to Louisiana to work on de Catherine Goride
+place, but he come back, 'cause he say dey blow dey horn for work on
+Sunday same as any other day, and he say he wa'n't goin' to work on no
+Sunday. Dey didn't have a jail in dem times. Dey'd whip 'em, and dey'd
+sell 'em. Every slave know what, 'I'll put you in my pocket, sir!' mean.
+
+"De slaves would walk when dey'd go anywhere. If'n dey buy a bunch of
+slaves in New Orleans, dey'd walk by night and day. I 'member when one
+young girl come back from refugin' wid de white folks, her feet were
+jes' ready to buss open, and dat wuz all. You couldn't travel unless de
+boss give you a pass. De Ku Klan had "patrol" all about in de bushes by
+de side of de road at night. And when dey caught you dey'd whip you
+almost to death! Dey'd horsewhip you. Dey didn't run away nowhere 'cause
+dey knowed dey couldn't.
+
+"If'n you wanted to send any news to anybody on another plantation, de
+overseer'd write de message for you and send it by a boy to de overseer
+of de other plantation, and he'd read it to de one you wrote to.
+
+"When de war wuz over, ole man Jones cone over frum Georgia and sell
+t'ings to de colored folks. He'd sell 'em everyt'ing. He took all de
+colored folks' money!
+
+"I learned to read when I wuz goin' to school when I wuz about fifteen
+years old, but I learned most I know after I wuz married, at night
+school, over on de Morrison place. De colored folks had de school, but
+'course Mr. Morrison was delighted to know dey wuz havin' it. As for
+church, in de olden times, people used to, more or less, attend under de
+bush-arbor. In 1875 when I jined de church, ole man John Butler wuz de
+preacher.
+
+"Ghosts? I'se met plenty of um! When I wuz courtin' I met many a
+one--One got me in de water, once. And another time when I wuz crossing
+a stream, I wuz on de butt end of de log, an' dey wuz on de blossom end,
+an' we meet jes' as close as I is to you now. I say to him, same as to
+anybody, 'I sure ain't goin' to turn back, and fall off dis log. Now de
+best t'ing for you to do is to turn 'round and let me come atter (after)
+you. You jes' got to talk to 'em same as to anybody. It don't pay to be
+'fraid of 'em. So he wheel 'round. (Spirits can wheel, you know.) And
+when he get to de end of de log, I say, 'Now you off and I off. You kin
+go on 'cross now.' Dey sure is a t'ing, all right! Dey look jes' like
+anybody else, 'cept'n it's jes' cloudy and misty like it goin' to pour
+down rain. But it don't do to be 'fraid of 'em. I ain't 'fraid of
+nuttin', myself. I never see 'em no more. Guess I jes' sorta out-growed
+'em. But dere sure is sech a t'ing, all right! De white folks'd see 'em,
+too. I 'member hearin' ole Joe Bostick, de preacher, say to a man, by de
+name of Tinlin, 'Did you hear dat hog barkin' last night? Well, de
+spirit come right in de house. Come right up over de mantlepiece.' I wuz
+in de field workin' same as I allus done, and I hear'd ole Joe horse a
+snortin'. Ole Joe didn't want nuttin'. He jes' want to see what I wuz
+doin'.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln done all he could for de colored folks. But dey cain't
+none of 'em do nuttin' without de Lord."
+
+  Source: Isaiah Butler, Garnett, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+  Approx. 800 Words
+
+  SOLBERT BUTLER EX-SLAVE OF 82 YEARS
+
+
+Miles from the highway old Solbert Butler lives alone under the shadow
+of the handsome winter home of an aged northerner upon the same soil
+that he has seen pass from Southerner to Negro, to Southerner, to
+Northerner. Though shrunken and bent with age he still enjoys talking.
+
+"I lives in de Deer Country. A couple of months ago, I saw eight in a
+drove at one time, like a drove of sheep, or sech like. You can't raise
+nuthin' 'round here. Dey'll eat up your garden. And de wild turkey! And
+de partridge! But you can't shoot 'em without de Cassels give you a
+license to do it. Now he comin' next month and dere'll be more shootin'!
+But he aint able to hunt none hisself. He kin ride 'bout in de woods in
+de car. Dey are blessed people, though!
+
+"Dis used to be de Bostick place. Old Massa Ben Bostick lived fourteen
+miles from here. Dere was Ben Bostick, Iva Bostick, Joe Bostick, Mr.
+Luther, Eddie Bostick, an' Jennie Jo Bostick. De place was divided up
+between 'em. O-oh! I couldn't number de plantations old Mr. Bostick
+owned. I think he owned fifteen plantations! He was de millinery
+(millionaire)! Oh, de Bosticks, O-oh!! De house dey live in, dey call
+um--what was it dey call um--de Paradise house. No one go to dat house
+but only de rich.
+
+"At Christmas dey'd go up dere. And oh, I couldn't number it! Oh, it was
+paradise. He was good to 'em. An' he whip 'em good, too! Tie 'em to de
+fence post and whip 'em. But I didn't' have anythin' of dat. I was a
+little boy. Jes' 'bout six year old when de war broke out. But I got
+plenty of whippin's all right.
+
+"Massa take me as a little boy as a pet. Took me right in de carriage!
+Had a little bed right by his own an' take care of me. Every morning dey
+bring in dey tray, an' go back. My uncle was a carriage man. Dey kept
+two fine horses jes' for de carriage. Massa'd come up to de Street every
+Monday morning with big trays of rations. He'd feed his colored folk,
+den go on back."
+
+(Another old ex-slave from the same plantation had said that on Mondays
+the week's rations were given out.)
+
+"Dey planted cotton, corn, peas, potatoes, rice--an' dey'd lick you! All
+de time, dey'd lick you. After dey'd lick 'em until de blood come out,
+den dey'd rub de red pepper and salt on 'em. Oh, my God! Kin you say dem
+as done sech as dat aint gone to deir reward? My uncle was so whip he
+went into de woods, an' live dere for months. Had to learn de
+independent life. Mr. Aldridge was de overseer. Old Mr. Aldridge gone
+now. But dere can't be no rest for him. Oh my God no! He do 'em so mean
+dat finally ole Massa hear 'bout it. And when he do hear 'bout it, he
+discharged him. He had everything discharged--to de colored driver. Den
+he got Mr. Chisolm. After Mr. Chisolm come in, everythin' jes' as sweet
+an' smooth as could be! Dere's a nice set of people for you--de
+Chisolms. Two of 'em livin' now. One at Garnett, an' one at Luray, I
+believe.
+
+"I refugeed wid Massa. Dey come together in Virginia. Dey surrendered in
+Virginia. Set de house afire. And set all dey houses. Dey burned Massa's
+cotton. Over 200 bales! But if'n de colored folks begged for some, dey
+let 'em have some. I stayed right wid Massa. He carried me everywhere he
+went. Carried me all de way to Mill Haven, Georgia.
+
+"After de war de colored folks jes' took an' plant de crop an' make de
+livin' wid de hoe. Didn't have no mule, no ox, or thin' like dat. When
+ole Massa come back, he took de cotton, an' give de colored folks de
+corn. De Yankees kill all de hog. Kill all de cow. Kill all de fowl.
+Left you nothin' to eat. If de colored folk had any chicken, dey jes'
+had to take dat an' try to raise 'em somethin' to eat.
+
+"I'se a Methodist. I was converted under Elder Drayton--come from
+Georgia at St. Luke Methodist Church on de Blake Plantation. De Blake
+Plantation right dere. It jines dis one. De ole Methodist white folk's
+church where I was baptized been take down. It was called de Union
+Church. But de cemetery still dere. It right up dere not a mile down de
+road. Dere was a good ole preacher name of Rev. Winborn Asa Lawton. An'
+de camp meetin'! Oh, Lord, Lord! Dey had over a thousand dere. Come from
+Orangeburg. Come from Aiken! An' come way from Cheraw! Come from
+Charleston, Beaufort, and Savannah! De colored folks got a church now
+up here on what used to be de Pipe Creek place of ole Ben Bostick where
+de white folks used to have a Baptist church. De colored folks church
+call it Kenyon Church. Dat's de church dey white folks moved to
+Lawtonville, den to Estill. But when de colored folks built, dey built
+de church to face de East. Built on de same foundation; but face it
+east, facing a little road dat had sprung up and wind 'round dat way
+right in close to de church. But de white folks church was face west,
+facing de Augusta road. Dat big space twixt de road and de church was a
+grove.
+
+"Ghosts? I used to 'em. I see 'em all de time. Good company! I live over
+dere by myself, an' dey comes in my house all de time. Sometime I walk
+along at night an' I see 'em. An' when you see 'em you see a sight. Dey
+play. Dey dance 'round an' 'round. Dey happy all right. But dey'll devil
+you, too. When dey find out dat you scary, dey'll devil you. Dey don't
+do nothin' to me. Only talk to me. I'll be in my house an' dey'll come
+talk to me. Or I'll be walkin' down de road, an' meet 'em. Dey'll pass
+de time of day wid me, Like:
+
+  'Hey, Solbert! How far you goin', Solbert?'
+
+  'I'se jes' goin' down de road a little piece,' I'll say.
+
+  'Uh-huh'.
+
+"Or sometime dey'll say, 'Mornin', Solbert. How you feeling?'
+
+  'I'se jes' so so'.
+
+  'Uh-huh'.
+
+"Dey all favors. Dey all looks alike. You remembers when dat car come
+down de road jes' now? Well, I see a bunch of 'em right den! Dey get out
+de road for dat car to pass. Oh, you can't see 'em. No matter how much I
+shows 'em to you--you can't see 'em. But me! Dey swell wid me. I see 'em
+all de time. De big house up dere. It full of 'em. De white folks see
+'em, too. Dat is some of de white folks. I see de other day a white man
+dat has to work up here start toward de house when de ghosts was comin'
+out thick. When I tell him you ought to see him turn an' run. One of 'em
+push me over in de ditch one time. I say,
+
+  'Now what you done dat for?'
+
+  'Well, dat aint nothin''
+
+  'Aint nothin'. But don't you do dat no more.'
+
+"I talks to 'em jes' de same as if dey was somebody. Some folks outgrows
+'em. But not me. You have to be born to see 'em. If'n you be born
+wrapped in de caul, you kin see 'em. But if you aint, you can't see
+'em."
+
+  Source: Solbert Butler, 82 years, R. F. D. Scotia, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  District #4
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  May 31, 1937
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born on the other side of Maybinton, in Newberry County, South
+Carolina. Old Squire Kenner was my master and his wife, Lucy, my
+mistress. My pa was Joseph Gilliam, who was a slave of John Gilliam, and
+my mamma was Lou Kenner, who was a slave of Squire Kenner. I stayed with
+my mamma at Squire Kenner's and waited on my mistress, Mrs. Lucy Kenner,
+who was the best white woman I know of--just like a mother to me, wish I
+was with her now. I stayed there 'till my mistress died, was right by
+her bed.
+
+"It sure was a good place to live. Dey didn't give us money for work but
+we had enough to eat and place to sleep and a few clothes. Squire had a
+big farm he got from the Hancocks, some of his kin. He didn't have
+overseers; he looked after his own farms. Master had a big garden and
+give us lots from it to eat. We hunted 'possums, rabbits, squirrels,
+wild turkeys, on the river. We lived right near Broad River.
+
+"I remember de padderrolers; dey come to my pa's house and want to come
+in, but pa had an old musket gun and tole them if dey come in dey
+wouldn't go out alive--and dey went away.
+
+"After the day's work was done, the slaves would set down and talk, and
+on Saturday afternoons, they would stay home, go fishing or wash up, and
+sometimes the chaps would go to de river and watch the boats full of
+cotton go by. On Sundays we go to church. They made us go to Baskets
+church, de white folks church, and set in the gallery. On Christmas Day
+we would get time off and master would give us good things to eat. We
+never had any corn-shuckings and cotton pickings there. All of the
+family and the slaves do that work on moon-shiney nights. We had some
+games we played, like Molly Bright, Hiding Switches, Marbles. We played
+on Sunday, too, unless the mistress calls us in and stops us.
+
+"When a slave got sick we sent for the doctor. We never put much store
+in herb root tea and such like.
+
+"The Yankees went through Maybinton but didn't get over as far as us.
+Some say they stole cattle and burned ginhouses.
+
+"Squire Kenner was killed in the war, and when the war was over we
+stayed on with de mistress; she was like a mamma. She had a son who was
+killed in the war, too. Another son lived there and we worked for him
+after Mistress died, but he soon moved far away and sold out his
+plantation. His name was Howsen Kenner.
+
+"I married Walter Cain at Mr. Walter Spearman's house, a good white man,
+and the white folks give us a good supper after the wedding. I had one
+child, 2 grandchildren, and one great-grand-child. I joined the church
+before I married 'cause I wanted to do better, do right and live right,
+and get religion. I think everybody ought to join the church and live
+right. That is the reason the Lord blesses me in lots of ways today. We
+had good time in slavery--sometimes I wish I was back there--would have
+somebody to take of you and help you. If my mistress was living I would
+rather be back in slavery."
+
+  Source: Granny Cain (90), RFD, Newberry; by G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  Sept. 22, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born near the village of Maybinton, and lived on old Squire
+Kenner's plantation. Squire Kenner and his wife, mistress Lucy, was good
+to me. My mistress was so good I wish I was living with her now, I sho
+wouldn't have such a hard time getting something to eat. I am old and
+have rheumatism and can't get about good now.
+
+"I live with some of my grand children, but they can't make so much for
+us. We manage to eat, though. We rent a two-room house about two miles
+from Newberry Courthouse.
+
+"I don't know nothing about 40 acres of land for the slaves after the
+war. We just stayed on with the master 'til he died, for wages; then we
+hired out to other people for wages. I don't know nothing 'bout slaves
+voting after the war. There was no slave up-risings then in our section.
+
+"Ever since the war was over, the slaves have worked for wages on
+plantations or moved to town and got little jobs here and there where
+they could. Some of the slaves would rent small farms from land owners
+or work the farms on shares. None of the slaves in our section come from
+Virginia."
+
+  Source: "Granny" Cain (90), Newberry County, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 8/10/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  May 24, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Union County, S. C., not far from the ferry on Tyger
+River. My mother was a slave of George R. Tucker who lived on the Enoree
+River. I can't remember slavery times nor the war; but I remember about
+the end of the war when everybody was coming home.
+
+"My mother was a weaver, going to the white folks' houses and weaving
+clothes for them for small pay. Carding and spinning was done by all the
+white families at home.
+
+"The farms had large gardens and raised most everything to eat. Large
+patches of turnips, cabbage and green vegetables was the custom at that
+time."
+
+  Source: Laura Caldwell (77), Newberry, S. C.
+  Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. May 20, 1937
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Dec. 15, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  [~HW: (Caldwell~]
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I own a little farm, about 22 acres, and I live on it wid my wife. I
+ain't been married but once, but we had 15 chilluns. Dey is all done
+married and left us. I is gitting so I can't do much work any more,
+'specially plowing. I lives below Prosperity. I was born above dar, near
+Beaver Dam Creek on de old Davenport place.
+
+"My daddy was Alfred Caldwell and my mammy was Suella Caldwell. She was
+a Nelson. Dem and me belonged to Marse Gillam Davenport. Marse Gillam
+sho was rapid. I saw him whip my mammy till you couldn't put a hand on
+her shoulder and back widout touching a whelp. Marse Gillam killed a man
+and dey put him in Jail in Newberry, but he died befo' de trial come
+off. Atter dat, I was put in de hands of his son, Sam Davenport. Dis was
+atter freedom come. He was a purty good man, but my mammy was always
+careful. At night she say, 'Come in chilluns, I got to fasten de do'
+tight.' We lived in a little log house den. When we moved from dar we
+went to Dr. Welch's place, jes' dis side of it.
+
+"De niggers never had any churches till atter de war; den dey used brush
+arbors or some old broke-down log house. We never had schools den, not
+till later. I never had a chance to go a-tall.
+
+"I 'member de Ku Klux and how dey rid around in white sheets, killing
+all de niggers. De Red Shirts never killed but dey sometimes whipped
+niggers. My daddy voted de Republican ticket den, but I know'd two
+niggers dat was Democrats and rode wid de Red Shirts. Dey was old Zeb
+and old Jeff Bozard.
+
+"We had a big camp meeting sometimes at a log house dat was called
+'Hannah's Church'. It was named for a nigger man of slavery time. He
+bought de land for de church when freedom come and give it to dem. Dis
+church is on de other side of Bush River, near Mr. Boulware's place.
+
+"In old times we had plenty to eat dat we raised on de farm. We had
+gardens, too. We raised hogs and made our own flour. We never worked on
+Saturday afternoons and Sundays. On Christmas we got together and tried
+to have extra things to eat, and maybe a few drinks.
+
+"In old times we had lots of corn-shuckings and log-rollings. De niggers
+all around would come and help, den we would git a feast of lamb or pig
+that was cooked while we was working.
+
+"Some old folks use to make medicines out of herbs. I 'member my ma
+would take fever grass and boil it to tea and have us drink it to keep
+de fever away. She used branch elder twigs and dogwood berries for
+chills. Another way to stop chills from coming was to dip a string in
+turpentine, keep it tied around de waist and tie a knot in it every time
+you had a chill.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln was a good man. Seems like all de niggers loved him
+lots. I don't know much about Jefferson Davis. Booker Washington was a
+good man. I 'member he was once in Newberry and I heard him preach in de
+old courthouse. (?)
+
+"I joined de church when I was 12 years old. In dem days de old folks
+made chillun go to church when dey was 12 years old, and join den. Dat
+was de reason I joined. I was a Methodist but I joined de Baptist later,
+because, well, I saw dat was de right way."
+
+  Source: Solomon Caldwell (73), Newberry, S. C. RFD
+  Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 12/7/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon,
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  NELSON CAMERON
+  EX-SLAVE 81 YEARS.
+
+
+Nelson Cameron and his wife, Mary, together with a widowed daughter,
+Rose, and her six children, live in a four-room frame house, two miles
+south of Woodward, S. C., about sixty yards east of US highway #21. He
+cultivates about eighty acres of land, on shares of the crop, for Mr.
+Brice, the land owner. He is a good, respectable, cheerful old darkey,
+and devoted to his wife and grandchildren.
+
+"Marse Wood, Ned Walker, a old Gaillard nigger says as how he was down
+here t'other day sellin' chickens, where he got them chickens I's not
+here for to say, and say you wanna see me. I's here befo' you and pleads
+guilty to de charge dat I'm old, can't work much any longer, and is poor
+and needy.
+
+"You sees dere's a window pane out of my britches seat and drainage
+holes in both my shoes, to let de sweat out when I walks to Bethel
+Church on Sunday. Whut can you and Mr. Roosevelt do for dis old
+Izrallite a passin' thru de wilderness on de way to de Promise Land? Lak
+to have a little manna and quail, befo' I gits to de river Jordan.
+
+"My old marster name Sam Brice. His wife, my mistress, tho' fair as de
+lily of de valley and cheeks as pink as de rose of Sharon, is called
+'Darkie.' Dat always seem a misfit to me. Lily or Rose or Daisy would
+have suited her much more better, wid her laces, frills, flounces, and
+ribbons. Her mighty good to de slaves. Take deir part 'ginst de marster
+sometime, when him want to whup them. Sometime I sit on de door-steps
+and speculate in de moonlight whut de angels am like and everytime, my
+mistress is de picture dat come into dis old gray head of mine. You say
+you don't want po'try, you wants facts?
+
+"Well, here de facts: My mammy name Clara. Don't forgit dat. I come back
+to her directly. My young mistress was Miss Maggie. Her marry Marse
+Robert Clowney; they call him 'Red-head Bob.' Him have jet red hair. Him
+was 'lected and went to de Legislature once. No go back; he say dere too
+much ding dong do-nuttin' foolishness down dere for him to leave home
+and stay 'way from de wife and chillun half de winter months.
+
+"Marse Sam never have so pow'ful many slaves. Seem lak dere was more
+women and chillun than men. In them days, pa tell me, a white man raise
+niggers just lak a man raise horses or cows. Have a whole lot of mares
+and 'pendin' on other man to have de stallion. Fust thing you know dere
+would be a whole lot of colts kickin' up deir heels on de place. Lakwise
+a white man start out wid a few women folk slaves, soon him have a
+plantation full of little niggers runnin' 'round in deir shirt-tails and
+a kickin' up deir heels, whilst deir mammies was in de field a hoeing
+and geeing at de plow handles, workin' lak a man. You ketch de point?
+Well I's one of them little niggers. My pa name Vander. Him b'long to
+one of de big bugs, old Marse Gregg Cameron. Marse Gregg, him 'low,
+always have more money and niggers than you could shake a stick at, more
+land than you could walk over in a day, and more cuss words than you
+could find in de dictionary. His bark was worser than his bite, tho'. Pa
+was de tan-yard man; he make leather and make de shoes for de
+plantation. After freedom date, de way he make a livin' for mammy and us
+chillun was by makin' boots and shoes and half solin' them for white
+folks at Blackstock, S. C. Marse Sam Brice mighty glad for mammy to
+contact sich a man to be de pappy of her chillun.
+
+"Us live in a log house wid a little porch in front and de mornin' glory
+vines use to climb 'bout it. When they bloom, de bees would come a
+hummin' 'round and suck de honey out de blue bells on de vines. I
+'members dat well 'nough, dat was a pleasant memory. Is I told you my
+mammy name Clara? My brothers and sisters, who they? George dead, Calvin
+dead, Hattie (name for pa's young mistress) dead, Samson, who got his
+ear scald off in a pot of hot water, is dead, too. I's existing still. I
+did mighty little work in slavery times. 'Members not much 'bout de
+Yankees.
+
+"Freedom come, pa come straight as a martin to his gourd, to mammy and
+us pickaninnies. They send us to school at Blackstock and us walk
+fourteen miles, and back, every day to school. At school I meets Mary
+Stroud, a gal comin' from de Gaillard quarter. Her eyes was lak twin
+stars. Her hair lak a swarm of bees. All my studyin' books was changed
+to studyin' how to git dat swarm of bees in a hive by myself. One day I
+walk home from school with her and git old Uncle Tom Walker to marry us,
+for de forty cents I saved up. Us happy ever since. Nex' year I work for
+Ben Calvin, a colored man on de Cockerell place, jinin' de Gaillard
+place. Us did dat to be near her pappy, Uncle Morris Stroud.
+
+"All thru them 'Carpet Bag' days my pappy stuck to de white folks, and
+went 'long wid de Ku Kluxes. His young mistress, Miss Harriet Cameron,
+marry de Grand Titan of all de Holy invisible Roman Empire. Him name was
+Col. Leroy McAfee. Pappy tell me all 'bout it. Marse Col. McAfee come
+down from North Ca'lina, and see Marse Feaster Cameron at old Marse
+Gregg Cameron's home and want Marse Feaster to take charge down in dis
+State. While on dat visit him fall in love wid Marse Feas's sister,
+Harriet, and marry her. You say Marse Tom Dixon dedicate a book to her,
+de Clansman? Well, well, well! To think of dat. Wish my pappy could a
+knowed dat, de Sundays he'd take dat long walk to Concord Church to put
+flowers on her grave. They all lie dere in dat graveyard, Old Marse
+Gregg, Marse Leroy, Miss Harriet, and Marse Feas. De day they bury Marse
+Feas de whole county was dere and both men and women sob when de red
+earth rumbled on his coffin top. Pappy had me by de hand and cried lak a
+baby, wid de rest of them, dat sad day.
+
+"Does you 'member de time in 1884, when my pappy made you a pair of
+boots for $10.00 and when you pay him, him knock off one dollar and you
+pay him nine dollars? You does? Well dat is fine, for I sure need dat
+dollar dis very day.
+
+"Does I 'member de day old Marse Gregg die? 'Course I does. It happen
+right here in Winnsboro. Him come down to 'tend John Robinson's Circus.
+Him lak Scotch liquor; de tar smell, de taste, and de 'fect, take him
+back to Scotland where him generate from. Them was bar-room days in
+Winnsboro. De two hotels had bar-rooms, besides de other nine in town.
+Marse Gregg had just finished his drink of Scotch. De parade of de
+circus was passing de hotel where he was, and de steam piano come by a
+tootin'. Marse Gregg jump up to go to de street to see it. When it pass,
+him say: 'It's a damn humbug' and drop dead."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1855
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  THOMAS CAMPBELL
+  EX-SLAVE 82 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"Good mornin' Marster Wood! Marster Donan McCants and Marster Wardlaw
+McCants both been tellin' me dat how you wants to see me but I's been so
+poorly and down at de heels, in my way of feelin', dat I just ain't of a
+mind or disposition to walk up dere to de town clock, where they say you
+want me to come. Take dis bench seat under de honey suckle vine. It
+shade you from de sun. It sho' is hot! I's surprise dat you take de walk
+down here to see a onery old man lak me.
+
+"Yes sir, I was born, 'cordin' to de writin' in de Book, de 15th day of
+March, 1855, in de Horeb section of Fairfield District, a slave of old
+Marster John Kennedy. How it was, I don't know. Things is a little mixed
+in my mind. Fust thing I 'members, and dreams 'bout sometimes yet, is
+bein' in Charleston, standin' on de battery, seein' a big ocean of
+water, wid ships and their white sails all 'bout, de waves leapin' and
+gleamin' 'bout de flanks of de ships in de bright sunshine, thousands of
+white birds flyin' 'round and sometimes lighting on de water. My mammy,
+her name Chanie, was a holdin' my hand and her other hand was on de
+handle of a baby carriage and in dat carriage was one of de Logan
+chillun. Whether us b'long to de Logans or whether us was just hired out
+to them I's unable to 'member dat. De slaves called him Marster Tom. Us
+come back to Fairfield in my fust childhood, to de Kennedy's.
+
+"Marster John Kennedy raise more niggers than he have use for; sometime
+he sell them, sometime he hire them out. Him sell mammy and me to
+Marster James B. McCants and I been in de McCants family ever since,
+bless God!
+
+"Marse James was a great lawyer in his day. I was his house boy and
+office boy. When I get older I take on, besides de blackin' of his boots
+and shoes and sweepin' out de office, de position of carriage driver and
+sweepin' out de church. Marster James was very 'ligious. Who my pa was?
+Dat has never been revealed to me. Thank God! I never had one, if they
+was lak I see nigger chillun have today. My white folks was all de
+parents I had and me wid a skin as black as ink. My belly was always
+full of what they had and I never suffer for clothes on my back or shoes
+on my feets.
+
+"Does I 'members de Yankees? Yes sir, I 'member when they come. It was
+cold weather, February, now dat I think of it. Oh, de sights of them
+days. They camp all 'round up at Mt. Zion College and stable their
+hosses in one of de rooms. They gallop here and yonder and burn de
+'Piscopal Church on Sunday mornin'. A holy war they called it, but they
+and Wheeler's men was a holy terror to dis part of de world, as naked
+and hungry as they left it. I marry Savannah Parnell and of all our
+chillun, dere is just one left, a daughter, Izetta. Her in Tampa,
+Florida.
+
+"Does I 'members anything 'bout de Ku Klux? No sir, nothin'. I was
+always wid de white folks side of politics. They wasn't concerned 'bout
+me. Marster James have no patience for dat kind of business anyhow. Him
+was a lawyer and believed in lettin' de law rule in de daylight and
+would have nothin' to do wid work dat have to have de cover of night and
+darkness.
+
+"Does I 'member 'bout de red shirts? Sure I does. De marster never wore
+one. Him get me a red shirt and I wore it in Hampton days. What I
+recollect 'bout them times? If you got time to listen, I 'spect I can
+make anybody laugh 'bout what happen right in dis town in red shirt
+days. You say you glad to listen? Well, here goes. One time in '76. de
+democrats have a big meetin' in de court house in April. Much talk last
+all day. What they say or do up dere nobody know. Paper come out next
+week callin' de radicals to meet in de court house fust Monday in May.
+Marster Glenn McCants, a lawyer, was one of old marster's sons. He tell
+me all 'bout it.
+
+"De day of de radical republican meetin' in de court house, Marster Ed
+Ailen had a drug store, so him and Marster Ozmond Buchanan fix up four
+quart bottles of de finest kind of liquor, wid croton-oil in every
+bottle. Just befo' de meetin' was called to order, Marster Ed pass out
+dat liquor to de ring leader, tellin' him to take it in de court house
+and when they want to 'suade a nigger their way, take him in de side
+jury rooms and 'suade him wid a drink of fine liquor. When de meetin'
+got under way, de chairman 'pointed a doorkeeper to let nobody in and
+nobody out 'til de meetin' was over, widout de chairman say so.
+
+"They say things went along smooth for a while but directly dat
+croton-oil make a demand for 'tention. Dere was a wild rush for de door.
+De doorkeeper say 'Stand back, you have to 'dress de chairman to git
+permission to git out'. Chairman rap his gavel and say, 'What's de
+matter over dere? Take your seats! Parliment law 'quire you to 'dress de
+chair to git permission to leave de hall'. One old nigger, Andy Stewart,
+a ring leader shouted: 'To hell wid Parliment law, I's got to git out of
+here.' Still de doorkeeper stood firm and faithful, as de boy on de
+burnin' deck, as Marster Glenn lak to tell it. One bright mulatto
+nigger, Jim Mobley, got out de tangle by movin' to take a recess for
+ten minutes, but befo' de motion could be carried out de croton-oil had
+done its work. Half de convention have to put on clean clothes and de
+court house steps have to be cleaned befo' they could walk up them
+again. You ask any old citizen 'bout it. Him will 'member it. Ask old
+Doctor Buchanan. His brother, de judge, was de one dat help Marster Ed
+Aiken to fix de croton-oil and whiskey.
+
+"Well, dat seem to make you laugh and well it might, 'cause dat day been
+now long ago. Sixty-one years you say? How time gits along. Well,
+sixty-one years ago everybody laugh all day in Winnsboro, but Marster Ed
+never crack a smile, when them niggers run to his drug store and ask him
+for somethin' to ease their belly ache."
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, October 5, 1937
+  No. Words
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  SYLVIA CANNON,
+  Ex-Slave, Age 85
+
+
+"Yes, mam, I been a little small girl in slavery time. I just can
+remember when I was sold. Me en Becky en George. Just can remember dat,
+but I know who bought me. First belong to de old Bill Greggs en dat whe'
+Miss Earlie Hatchel bought me from. Never did know whe' Becky en George
+went. Yes, mam, de Bill Greggs had a heap of slaves cause dey had my
+grandmammy en my granddaddy en dey had a heap of chillun. My mammy, she
+belong to de Greggs too. She been Mr. Gregg's cook en I de one name
+after her. I remembers she didn' talk much to we chillun. Mostly, she
+did sing bout all de time. Most of de old people sing bout;
+
+  'O Heaven, sweet Heaven,
+  When shall I see?
+  If you get dere fore me,
+  You tell my Lord I on de way.
+  O shall I get dere?
+  If you get dere fore I do,
+  You tell My Lord I on de way.
+  O Heaven, sweet Heaven,
+  When shall I see?
+  O when shall I get dere?'
+
+"Oh, dat be a old song what my grandmammy used to sing way back dere."
+
+"I don' know exactly how old I is cause de peoples used to wouldn' tell
+dey chillun how old dey was fore dey was grown. I just ain' able to say
+bout my right age, but I know my sister was older den me en she de one
+keep count us chillun age. She told me I be bout 84 or 85 years old, so
+my sister tell me. She done gone en left me en I try to keep count, but
+I don' know. Dere been bout 14 head of we chillun en dey all gone but
+me. I de last one. I can tell you dis much, I was just a little small
+girl when Miss Earlie Hatchel bought me en she wouldn' let me hold de
+baby cause she was 'fraid I would drop it. I just set dere on de floor
+en set de baby 'tween my legs, but my Lord, Miss Hatchel been so good to
+me dat I stay on dere wid her 8 years after freedom come. Miss Hatchel
+tell me I better stay on dere whe' I can get flour bread to eat. Yes,
+mam, never got a whippin in all my life. Miss Hatchel, she shake me by
+de shoulders once or twice, but never didn' whip me in all my life dat I
+knows of. Dat de reason, when my parents come after me, I hide under de
+bed. My mammy, she went in de name of Hatchel en all her chillun went in
+de name of Hatchel right down dere in de Effingham section."
+
+"No, honey, don' nobody be here wid me. Stays right here by myself. Digs
+in de garden in de day en comes in de house at night. Yes, mam, I
+thought dis house been belong to me, but dey tell me dis here place be
+city property. Rich man up dere in Florence learn bout I was worth over
+$1500.00 en he tell me dat I ought to buy a house dat I was gettin old.
+Say he had a nice place he want to sell me. I been learned dat what
+white folks tell me, I must settle down on it en I give him de money en
+tell him give me de place he say he had to sell me. I been trust white
+folks en he take my money en settle me down here on city property. He
+say, 'Mom Sylvia, you stay here long as you live cause you ain' gwine be
+here much longer.' I promise my God right den not to save no more money,
+child. People back dere didn' spend money like dey do dese days en dat
+how-come I had dat money. Dey would just spend money once a year in dat
+day en time. Yes, mam, I pay dat man over $900.00. Been payin on it long
+time en got it all paid but $187.00 en city find out what dat man had
+done. City tell me just stay on right here, but don' pay no more money
+out. Dey give me dat garden en tell me what I make I can have.
+Courthouse man tell me dat I ought to drop my thanks to de Heavenly
+Father dat I is free. If de town picks up any sick person, dey bring dem
+here en tell me do de best I can for dem. Tell me to keep good order so
+de people won' be shame to come en see bout me. Got two houses dere join
+together. Dere be four rooms in dis front one en three in de other
+house. Woman go up north en leave her things here en tell me if she ain'
+come back, I could have dem en she ain' come back yet. Been gone two
+years."
+
+"Yes, mam, I been married twice. First husband die en den another sick
+man come along en ax de city for me. I work on him en make teas for him,
+but he die in bout two years. I beg de town to let me go out to de poor
+farm en stay, but dey say I done pay too much to move. Tell me stay on
+here en keep de house up de best way I can.
+
+"No'um, I ain' able to do no kind of work much. No more den choppin my
+garden. Can' hardly see nothin on a sunny day. I raise my own seed all
+right cause sometimes I can' see en find myself is cut up things en dat
+make me has to plant over another time. City tell me do like I was raise
+en so I been choppin here bout 20 years."
+
+"Oh, now go way from here. My son born in de year of de earthquake en if
+he had lived, I would been bless wid plenty grandchillun dese days. Yes,
+mam, I remember all bout de shake. Dey tell me one man, Mr. Turner, give
+way his dog two or three days fore de earthquake come en dat dog get
+loose en come back de night of de shake. Come back wid chain tied round
+his neck en Mr. Turner been scared most to death, so dey tell me. He
+say, 'Oh, Mr. Devil, don' put de chain on me, I'll go wid you.' Dat was
+his dog come back en he thought it was de devil come dere to put de
+chain on him. Yes, mam, dere was such a cuttin up every which a way
+cause de people thought it was de Jedgment comin. I went a runnin dere
+to de white folks house en such a prayin en a hollerin, I ain' never see
+de like fore den en ain' see it since den neither. Dere was stirrin
+everywhe' dat night en de water in de well was just a slashin. I tried
+to pray like de rest of de people. Some say dey was ready to get on de
+old ship of Zion. I cut loose from de white folks en went in de woods to
+pray en see a big snake en I ain' been back since. I know dat ain' been
+nothin but a omen en I quit off cuttin up. I know it ain' been no need
+in me gwine on like dat cause I ain' never do no harms dat I knows of."
+
+"Yes, mam, white folks had to whip some of dey niggers in slavery time,
+dey be so mean. Hear tell bout some of dem would run away en go in de
+woods en perish to death dere fore dey would come out en take a whippin.
+Some was mean cause dey tell stories on one another en been swear to it.
+My mammy tell me don' never tell nothin but de truth en I won' get no
+whippin. I been raise up wid de white folks en I tell de truth, I can'
+hardly stand no colored people."
+
+"Oh, honey, dere won' no such thing as cotton mill, train, sawmill or
+nothin like dat in my day. People had to set dere at night en pick de
+seed out de cotton wid dey own hands. Didn' hear tell bout no telephone
+nowhe' in dem days en people never live no closer den three en four
+miles apart neither. Got old Massa horn right in dat room dere now dat
+he could talk on to people dat be 16 miles from whe' he was. Come in
+here, child, en I'll let you see it. See, dis old horn been made out of
+silver money. You talks in dat little end en what you say runs out dat
+big end. Man ax me didn' I want to sell it en I tell him I ain' got no
+mind to get rid of it cause it been belong to old Massa. Den if I get
+sick, I call on it en somebody come. Wouldn' take nothin for it, honey."
+
+"Times was sho better long time ago den dey be now. I know it. Yes, mam,
+I here frettin myself to death after dem dat gone. Colored people never
+had no debt to pay in slavery time. Never hear tell bout no colored
+people been put in jail fore freedom. Had more to eat en more to wear
+den en had good clothes all de time cause white folks furnish
+everything, everything. Dat is, had plenty to eat such as we had. Had
+plenty peas en rice en hog meat en rabbit en' fish en such as dat.
+Colored people sho fare better in slavery time be dat de white folks had
+to look out for dem. Had dey extra crop what dey had time off to work
+every Saturday. White folks tell dem what dey made, dey could have.
+Peoples would have found we colored people rich wid de money we made on
+de extra crop, if de slaves hadn' never been set free. Us had big rolls
+of money en den when de Yankees come en change de money, dat what made
+us poor. It let de white people down en let us down too. Left us all to
+bout starve to death. Been force to go to de fish pond en de huckleberry
+patch. Land went down to $1.00 a acre. White people let us clear up new
+land en make us own money dat way. We bury it in de ground en dat
+how-come I had money. I dig mine up one day en had over $1500.00 dat I
+been save. Heap of peoples money down dere yet en dey don' know whe' to
+find it."
+
+  Source: Sylvia Cannon, age 85, ex-slave, Marion St., Florence,
+                 S. C.
+                 Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, October, 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, August 4, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  SYLVIA CANNON
+  Ex-Slave, Age 85.
+  Florence, S. C.
+
+
+"I lives here by myself cause my husband been dead three years. Moved
+here fore my chillun went to de war. I go to work en buy dis here home
+en get whe' I can' pay tax en people tell me not to move. Say, rent me
+bed en catch me a dollar, if it ain' a sin to rent your bed for a
+dollar. One of de big officers of de town tell me dat last week en he
+die next day. Government take my house en when dey carry sick peoples
+from de jail, dey bring em here fore dey die. It ain' but one night
+journey. Ain' gwine let dem be live enough to run away. Ain' got no kin
+to leave de house to en dey tell me stay on here. Dey say I work so hard
+to get dis house dat dey ain' gwine make me leave here."
+
+(Aunt Sylvia has a sign in her front yard. It seems she took the frame
+of a large picture and inserted a piece of pasteboard into it. She
+explained that this sign is a warning to evil doers not to molest her.
+She says that they must not come past this sign. The words on the sign
+are somewhat illegibly written. The interviewers were able to make out
+these words: "This is a house of the Lord. Don't go pass. This is a
+house of the Lord...." Sign is dated March 1, 1937).
+
+"I don' know how old I is, but I remembers I was 8 years old when
+freedom come. I born down dere in de Effingham section on Mr. Gregg
+plantation. My half-sister say I must always remember de Christmas day
+cause dat de day I was born. Father en mother belong to de old Bill
+Greggs en dat whe' Miss Earlie Hatchel buy me from. After dat, I didn'
+never live wid my parents any more, but I went back to see dem every two
+weeks. Got a note en go on a Sunday evenin en come back to Miss Hatchel
+on Monday. Miss Hatchel want a nurse en dat how-come she buy me. I
+remembers Miss Hatchel puttin de baby in my lap en tell me don' drop
+him. Didn' have to do no work much in dem days, but dey didn' allow me
+to play none neither. When de baby sleep, I sweep de yard en work de
+garden en pick seed out de cotton to spin. Nursed little while for Miss
+Hatchel en den get free."
+
+"I see em sell plenty colored peoples away in dem days cause dat de way
+white folks made heap of dey money. Coase dey ain' never tell us how
+much dey sell em for. Just stand em up on a block bout three feet high
+en a speculator bid em off just like dey was horses. Dem what was bid
+off didn' never say nothin neither. Don' know who bought my brothers,
+George en Earl. (She cried after this statement). I see em sell some
+slaves twice fore I was sold en I see de slaves when dey be travelin
+like hogs to Darlington. Some of dem be women folks lookin like dey
+gwine to get down dey so heavy."
+
+"We fare good in dat day en time. Everybody round dere fare good. My
+Massa always was good to his slaves cause all de colored people say he
+was good man to us. Dey never whip me in all my life. Tell me if I don'
+know how to do anything to tell dem en dey show me how. I remembers Miss
+Hatchel caught en shook me one time en when I tell her husband, he tell
+her to keep his hands off his little Nigger. Dey all was good to me.
+When I start home to see my mamma, dey cry after me till I come back.
+Many a time my Missus go work in de field en let me mind de chillun."
+
+"We live in de quarter bout 1/2 mile from de white folks house in a one
+room pole house what was daubed wid dirt. Dere was bout 20 other colored
+people house dere in de quarter dat was close together en far apart too.
+De ground been us floor en us fireplace been down on de ground. Take
+sticks en make chimney cause dere won' no bricks en won' no saw mills to
+make lumber when I come along. Oh, my white folks live in a pole house
+daubed wid dirt too. Us just had some kind of home-made bedstead wid
+pine straw bed what to sleep on in dem days. Sew croaker sack together
+en stuff em wid pine straw. Dat how dey make dey mattress. Didn' get
+much clothes to wear in dat day en time neither. Man never wear no
+breeches in de summer. Go in his shirt tail dat come down to de knees en
+a 'oman been glad enough to get one piece homespun frock what was made
+wid dey hand. Make petticoat out of old dress en patch en patch till
+couldn' tell which place weave. Always put wash out on a Saturday night
+en dry it en put it back on Sunday. Den get oak leaves en make a hat
+what to wear to church. We didn' never have but one pair of shoes a year
+en dey was dese here brogans wid thick soles en brass toes. Had shop
+dere on de plantation whe' white man made all de shoes en plows. Dey
+would save all de cowhide en soak it in salt two or three weeks to get
+de hair off it en dey have big trough hewed out whe' dey clean it after
+dey get de hair off it. After dat, it was turn to de man at de shop."
+
+"I remembers when night come on en we go back to de quarter, we cook
+bread in de ashes en pick seed from de cotton en my mamma set dere en
+sew heap of de time. Den I see em when dey have dem hay pullings. Dey
+tote torch to gather de hay by en after dey pull two or three stacks of
+hay, dey have a big supper en dance in de road en beat sticks en blow
+cane. Had to strike fire on cotton wid two rocks cause dey didn' have no
+match in dem days."
+
+"I tellin you my Missus sho was good to me in dat day en time. She been
+so good to me dat I stay dere wid her 20 year after I got free. Stay
+dere till I marry de old man Isenia Cannon. You see my old Massa got
+killed in de war. She tell me I better stay whe' I can get flour bread
+to eat cause she make her own flour en bake plenty biscuit in de oven.
+Den she kill hogs en a cow every Christmas en give us all de egg-nog en
+liquor we want dat day. Dig hole in de ground en roast cow over log
+fire. When I get hard up for meat en couldn' get nothin else, I catch
+rabbits en birds. Make a death trap wid a lid en bait it wid cabbage en
+corn en catch em dat way. Den another time, I dig deep hole in de ground
+en dob it wid clay en fill it up wid water. Rabbits hunt water in de
+night en fall in dere en drown. I used to set traps heap of times to
+keep de rabbits from eatin up de people gardens. Folks eat all kind of
+things durin de war. Eat honeysuckle off de low sweet bush after de
+flower falls off en pine mass dat dey get out de burr en sour weeds.
+Wouldn' nobody eat dem things dese days. Coase dey let de slaves have
+three acres of land to a family to plant for dey garden. Work dem in
+moonlight nights en on a Saturday evenin."
+
+"Oh, yes, dey have white overseers den. I hear some people say dey was
+good people. At night de overseer would walk out to see could he catch
+any of us walkin widout a note en to dis day, I don' want to go nowhe'
+widout a paper. It just like dis, de overseer didn' have to be right
+behind you to see dat you work in dem days. Dey have all de fields name
+en de overseer just had to call on de horn en tell you what field to go
+work in dat day. Den he come along on a Saturday evenin to see what you
+done. If you ain' do what he say do, he put de Nigger dog on you en he
+run you all night till he find you. No matter whe' you hide, he find
+you en hold you till de overseer get dere. Bite you up if dey get reach
+of you. When de overseer come, he carry you to de stables en whip you.
+Dey dat ain' never got no whipping, you can' do nothin wid dem dese
+days."
+
+"I got Miss Hatchel horn bout here now dat been through nearly 100 head
+of people. If you talk on it, dere de 100 head of automobiles to see
+what it is. I sold old Massa's sword last week for ten cents, but I ain'
+gwine do away wid his old horn. (4 ft. long, 15 in. cross big end 1 in.
+from top end. Mouth piece is gone. Catch about 15 in. from top). Can
+talk to anybody 15 to 16 miles away en dat how-come I don' want to sell
+it cause if anything happen, I can call people to come. Dis horn ain' no
+tin, it silver. It de old time phone. Got old Massa maul too en dis here
+Grandpa oxen bit dat was made at home."
+
+"De white folks didn' never help none of we black people to read en
+write no time. Dey learn de yellow chillun, but if dey catch we black
+chillun wid a book, dey nearly bout kill us. Dey was sho better to dem
+yellow chillun den de black chillun dat be on de plantation. Northern
+women come dere after de war, but dey didn' let em teach nobody nothin."
+
+"I go to church wid my white folks, but dey never have no church like
+dey have dese days. De bush was dey shelter en when it rain, dey meet
+round from one house to another. Ride to church in de ox cart cause I
+had to carry de baby everywhe' I go. White folks didn' have no horse
+den. De peoples sho been blessed wid more religion in dem days den dese
+days. Didn' never have to lock up nothin den en if you tell a story, you
+get a whippin. Now de peoples tell me to tell a story. I been cleanin up
+a lady porch en she tell me to tell anybody what come dere dat she ain'
+home. A lady come en ax fer her en I tell her she say anybody come here,
+tell em I ain' home. If you don' believe she here, look in de bedroom.
+Miss Willcox come out dere en beat me in de back. I tell her don' read
+de Bible en tell me to tell a story. I ain' gwine tell no story cause my
+white folks learnt me not to do dat. I knows people was better in dem
+times den dey is now. Dey teach you how you ought to treat your neighbor
+en never hear no bad stories nowhe'. Massa en Missus taught me to say a
+prayer dat go like dis:
+
+  "De angels in Heaven love us,
+  Bless mamma en bless papa,
+  Bless our Missus,
+  Bless de man dat feedin us,
+  For Christ sake."
+
+"De peoples use herb medicines for dey cures in dem days dat dey get out
+de woods. I make a herb medicine dat good for anything out de roots of
+three herbs mix together. Couldn' tell you how I make it cause dat
+would ruin me. Town people try to buy de remedy from me, but Dr. McLeod
+tell me not to sell it. Dey offer me $1500.00 for it, but I never take
+it."
+
+"You want my mind, my heart, de truth en I gwine tell you it just like I
+see it. Since de colored peoples got de law, dey get in all kind of
+devilment. Dat how-come if I had to go back, I would go back to slavery
+en stay wid my white folks."
+
+  Source: Sylvia Cannon, ex-slave, age 85, Florence. S. C.
+
+  Personal interview by H. Grady Davis and Mrs.
+  Lucile Young, and written up in question and
+  answer form. Rewritten in story form by Annie Ruth
+  Davis.
+
+
+  FUNERAL SONG
+
+  Star in de east en star in de west,
+  I wish de star was in my breast.
+  Mother is home, sweet home,
+  Mother is home, sweet home,
+  Want to join de angel here.
+  What a blessed home, sweet home,
+  What a blessed home, sweet home,
+  Want to join de angel here.
+
+(You can sing bout father, brother, sister en all.)
+
+  Sylvia Cannon,
+
+  Ex-Slave, age 85,
+  May 21, 1937,
+  Florence, S. C.
+
+
+  FUNERAL SONG
+
+  Come ye dat love de Lord,
+  En let your joys be known.
+  Hark from de tomb,
+  En hear my tender voice.
+  By de grace of God I'll meet you
+  On Canaan Happy Shore.
+  Oh, mother, where will I meet you on Canaan Happy Shore?
+  En by de grace of God I'll meet you on Canaan Happy Shore.
+
+(Shaking hands, marching around grave. White en Colored marched from
+church to graveyard. Old people in de ox cart en young people walking.
+Didn' have coffins like dey do now. Build de coffin en black it wid
+smut. Blacksmith make de nails. Could see in de box.)
+
+  Sylvia Cannon,
+  Ex-Slave, age 85,
+  May 21, 1937,
+  Florence, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project No. 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Mrs. Genevieve Chandler
+  Place, Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  Date, March 25, 1937
+  Typed by M. C., N. Y. A.
+  No Words ----
+  Reduced from Words ----
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  [~HW: Georgetown Co~]
+  [~HW: HEAVEN'S GATE CHURCH~]
+
+  (Verbatim conversation by Uncle Albert Carolina.):
+
+
+When asked about the founding of Heaven's Gate colored Methodist
+church Rev. Albert Carolina answered:
+
+  "In the beginning of Freedom they separate us from whites.
+      'Sixty one the war begun;
+      Sixty four the war was o'er."
+
+"Rev. Zacharias Duncan wuz the man. He the one built Heaven Gate church.
+Brother Henry Smith and Brother David Kidd and old man Jackson Heywood
+wuz the old ones built it. Some more been there. Can't think of them.
+Old man Jim Beaty wuz one. Can't remember no more. He wuz Allston man.
+(That means he was a slave owned by the Allstons) Uncle Dave Kidd, he
+owned a tract of land in the Savannah.
+
+"Brought us up in Sabbus (Sabbath) school. Sunrise prayer-meeting. Ten
+o'clock Sunday school. Leven o'clock the service. Three o'clock service
+again. Eight at night--service again. Raise us taughen (taught) in the
+church. Steal off Slavery time in they own house and have class meeting.
+Driver come find'em, whip'em. Th' patrolls come riding down th' road.
+Four plait whip. Two big black dog. White pat-roller. Ketch without
+pass, they whip me. Crawling. (I was crawling). But I walk then and walk
+every since! Bo-cart. Dat's what they call it--'Bo-cart'. (Crude home
+made baby walker.) Bout seventy seven years since I start. Remember
+nother thing going on in them time. Mausser gin (give) the women a task.
+Didn't done it. Next day didn't done it. Saturday come, task time out!
+Driver! I tell yuh th' truth, you could hear those people, 'Murder!
+Murder!'
+
+"Judge Kershaw was a fine man. His boy William--I and William born the
+same day.
+
+"We never has met th' bed yet, without family prayer--and never get up
+without it. Didn't low them with a book in they hand. The Driver learn
+you at night if he like you. Try to out-wage (educate) you at night.
+Didn't have any school.
+
+"Mother's father Indian. Brighter than, who? Who round here bright as my
+Grand-father? Hannah! Hair was long. Wouldn't stay home. Lives in th'
+swamp. Wouldn't stay out. Grandmother wuz African. She had a little bowl
+make out of clay."
+
+  Uncle Albert Carolina, age 87 (colored)
+  Murrells Inlet, S. C.
+  March 8th, 1937.
+
+(A description followed of how his grand-parents built a kiln of clay
+pots and baked them.)
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+
+  SILVIA CHISOLM
+  Ex-Slave 88 Years Old
+
+
+"Aunt Silvie", sitting out in the sunshine in the yard of a small negro
+cabin, on a warm day in January, seemed very old and feeble. Her answers
+to questions were rather short and she appeared to be preoccupied.
+
+"I been fifteen year old when de Yankee come--fifteen de sixth of June.
+I saw 'em burn down me Massa's home, an' everythin'. I 'members dat. Ole
+man Joe Bostick was me Massa. An' I knows de Missus an' de Massa used to
+work us. Had de overseer to drive us! Work us till de Yankees come! When
+Yankee come dey had to run! Dat how de buildin' burn! Atter dey didn't
+find no one in it, dey burn! De Marshall house had a poor white woman in
+it! Dat why it didn't burn! My Massa's Pineland place at Garnett was
+burn, too. Dey never did build dis un (one) back. Atter dey come back,
+dey build deir house at de Pineland place.
+
+"I wus mindin' de overseer's chillun. Mr. Beestinger was his name! An'
+his wife, Miss Carrie! I been eight year old when dey took me. Took me
+from me mother an' father here on de Pipe Creek place down to Black
+Swamp. Went down forty-two mile to de overseer! I never see my mother or
+my father anymore. Not 'til atter freedom! An' when I come back den I
+been married. But when I move back here, I stay right on dis Pipe Creek
+place from den on. I been right here all de time.
+
+"Atter I work for Mr. Beestinger, I wait on Mr. Blunt. You know Mr.
+Blunt, ain't you? His place out dere now.
+
+"Mr. Bostick was a good ole man. He been deaf. His chillun tend to his
+business--his sons. He was a preacher. His father was ole man Ben
+Bostick. De Pipe Creek Church was ole Missus Bostick's Mammy's church.
+When de big church burn down by de Yankees, dey give de place to de
+colored folks. Stephen Drayton was de first pastor de colored folks had.
+Dey named de church, Canaan Baptist Church. Start from a bush arbor. De
+white folks church was paint white, inside an' out. It was ceiled
+inside. Dis church didn't have no gallery for de colored folks. Didn't
+make no graveyard at Pipe Creek! Bury at Black Swamp! An' at
+Lawtonville! De people leave dat church an' go to Lawtonville to
+worship. Dey been worshipping at Lawtonville ever since before I could
+wake up to know. De Pipe Creek Church jes' stood dere, wid no service in
+it, 'til de Yankee burn it. De church at Lawtonville been a fine church.
+Didn't burn it! Use it for a hospital durin' de war!
+
+"I'se 88 year old now an' can't remember so much. An' I'se blind! Blind
+in both eye!"
+
+  Source: Silvia Chisolm, R. F. D. Estill, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Stiles M. Scruggs
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  AN EX-SLAVE WHO CLIMBED UP
+  WITH WHITE FOLKS.
+
+
+Tom Chisolm, a sixty-two year old bricklayer, 11 Railroad Street,
+Columbia, S. C., is a son of Caesar Chisolm, who represented Colleton
+County in the South Carolina House of Representatives for ten years.
+Caesar was one of the few leading Negroes, who voted and spoke for the
+Democratic Party and was friendly to the leaders of white supremacy
+until he died in 1897. Tom relates the following story:
+
+"My daddy was born in slavery and he was always treated good by his
+master, de late Jimeson Chisolm, of Colleton County. He could read and
+figure up 'most anything, when he was set free, and he had notions of
+his own, too. For instance, he marry my mammy. She die soon after I was
+born, and daddy say to me: 'Son, your mammy is gone, but you need not
+fear dat any other woman will ever boss you. I's through with wives.'
+And he never marry again.
+
+"I come to Columbia with him, when he serve in de Legislature. When he
+tell de niggers and white folks, back in Colleton, dat he was not aimin'
+to run for de Legislature no more, they was sad. One time I go with him
+to Smoak's, where Congressman George D. Tillman was to speak on one of
+his campaigns. I felt pretty big, when Congressman Tillman smile and
+grasp de hand of my daddy and say: 'You's goin' to say a few words for
+me befo' I starts, eh, Chisolm?' 'I sho' will, if you laks,' say my
+daddy. Soon he mount de platform, and befo' he say a word, both de white
+and de niggers clap deir hands and stamp deir feets and smile. My daddy
+bow, smile, and say: 'Ladies and gentlemen: We, us, and company sent
+George Tillman to Congress long ago and knows what he has done. Now we's
+gwine to send him back, and I is a little in doubt as to whether he is
+gwine to take us to Washington, or bring Washington down here!' He say,
+he jus' git started. But de crowd was laughin', dancin', and huggin' de
+Congressman, and daddy laugh and set down.
+
+"He introduce Master Duncan Clinch Heyward at Walterboro in 1902, when
+Master Heyward was making his first race for governor. He raise such
+laughter and pay so many witty compliments to Master Heyward, dat
+Governor Heyward, when he was 'lected, appoint my daddy to an office in
+Columbia, and we come to Columbia to live in 1903. My daddy retire at de
+same time dat Governor Heyward quit office, in 1907. He later wrote
+insurance on de lives of niggers, and he prosper.
+
+"'Bout 1885, my daddy happen to be walkin' near de corner of Gervais and
+Pulaski streets, and two niggers meet dere at de time and begin to
+quarrel. My daddy stop and watch them awhile. One of them niggers kill
+de other, and some time afterward a nigger lawyer come to see my daddy
+and ask him: 'Wasn't you dere?' 'I sho' was,' say my daddy. De nigger
+lawyer laugh and slap daddy on de back and say: 'Come on.' Daddy come
+back in a few hours pretty tipsy. 'Dat lawyer spend a lot on me,' say
+daddy, 'but de fool never let me tell him jus' what I knows.'
+
+"A day or two afterward he was in de witness box. De nigger lawyer say:
+'Now, Mister Chisolm, tell your tale in your own way.' Daddy say: 'I saw
+de defendant and de man, now dead, as they meet. They glare at each
+other and begin to talk harsh and cuss each other. Then, one strike at
+de other and they back 'way and begin to reach in deir hind pockets.'
+Daddy stop, and de nigger lawyer fairly scream: 'Yes, yes, go on!' 'That
+all I saw,' say my daddy, 'cause I run to cover. I made it to de next
+corner in nothin' flat and pick up speed afterward. So I was two blocks
+'way, when I hear de shootin'!' De nigger lawyer nearly faint. He say:
+'Who bought you off?' Daddy say he would have told him at de start, if
+he'd had de chance.
+
+"At another time, we was down on de 700 block of Wayne Street, at a
+nigger gatherin'. We often spend days down dere collectin' weekly
+insurance dues, and we knowed most of de people. Dere happen to be a
+young nigger dere, back from de West for a visit, and he was a great
+bragger. He was tellin' 'bout corn in Texas. 'Dere,' he said, 'corn grow
+twenty feet high, with stalks as big as the arm of John L. Sullivan,
+when he whupped Kilrain, and half a dozen big ears on each stalk.' De
+crowd was thunderstruck.
+
+"My daddy cleared his throat and say: 'Dat am nothin' in de way of corn.
+One day I was walkin' past a forty-acre patch of corn, on de Governor
+Heyward plantation by de Combahee River and de corn was so high and
+thick, I decide to ramble through it. 'Bout halfway over, I hears a
+commotion. I walks on and peeps. Dere stands a four-ox wagon backed up
+to de edge of de field, and two niggers was sawin' down a stalk. Finally
+they drag it on de wagon and drive off. I seen one of them, in a day or
+two, and asks 'bout it. He say: 'We shelled 366 bushels of corn from dat
+one ear, and then we saw 800 feet of lumber from de cob.'
+
+"Dat young man soon slip out from de crowd and has never been seen here
+since. I thinks daddy was outdone with me, 'cause I was not quickwitted
+and smart, lak him. He tell me once: 'You must learn two good trades,
+and I think carpenterin' and brick-layin' safest.' I done that, and I
+has never been sorry, 'cause I's made a good livin'. Governor Heyward
+was always a good friend of daddy, and he was proud to see us makin'
+good in de insurance business."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  May 24, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born near old Bush River Baptist Church, in Newberry County, S.
+C. I was the slave of John Satterwhite. My mother lived with them. I was
+a small girl when the war was on. My brother went to war with Marse
+Satterwhite. When de Ku Klux and paddrollers traveled around in that
+section, they made Mr. Satterwhite hold the niggers when they was
+whipped, but he most all the time let them loose, exclaiming, 'they got
+loose'--he did not want many of them whipped.
+
+"My mother had a kitchen way off from the house, wid a wide fireplace
+where she cooked victuals. There was holes in back of de chimney with
+iron rods sticking out of them to hold de pans, pots, kettles or
+boilers.
+
+"People there did not believe much in ghosts. They were not much
+superstitious, but one time some of the negroes thought they heard the
+benches in Bush River Baptist Church turn over when nobody was in the
+church.
+
+"Negroes most always shouted at their religious meetings. Before de
+negroes had their own church meetings, the slaves went to the white
+folks' Bush River Baptist church and set up in the gallery. I moved to
+Newberry when I was young, after I got married."
+
+  Source: Maria Cleland, Newberry, S. C. (80 years old).
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (5/17/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  PETER CLIFTON
+  EX-SLAVE, 89 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"You want me to start wid my fust memory and touch de high spots 'til
+dis very day? Dat'll take a long time but I glad to find someone to tell
+dat to; I is! I 'members when I was a boy, drivin' de calves to de
+pasture, a highland moccasin snake rise up in de path. I see dat forked
+tongue and them bright eyes right now. I so scared I couldn't move out
+my tracks. De mercy of de Lord cover me wid His wings. Dat snake uncoil,
+drop his head, and silently crawl away. Dat was on de Biggers Mobley
+place 'tween Kershaw and Camden, where I was born, in 1848.
+
+"My pappy name Ned; my mammy name Jane. My brudders and sisters was Tom,
+Lizzie, Mary, and Gill. Us live in a log house wid a plank floor and a
+wooden chimney, dat was always ketchin' afire and de wind comin' through
+and fillin' de room wid smoke and cinders. It was just one of many
+others, just lak it, dat made up de quarters. Us had peg beds for de old
+folks and just pallets on de floor for de chillun. Mattresses was made
+of wheat straw but de pillows on de bed was cotton. I does 'member dat
+mammy had a chicken feather pillow she made from de feathers she saved
+at de kitchen.
+
+"My grandpappy name Warren and grandmammy name Maria. De rule on de
+place was: 'Wake up de slaves at daylight, begin work when they can see,
+and quit work when they can't see'. But they was careful of de rule dat
+say: 'You mustn't work a child, under twelve years old, in de field'.
+
+"My master's fust wife, I heard him say, was Mistress Gilmore. Dere was
+two chillun by her. Master Ed, dat live in a palace dat last time I
+visit Rock Hill and go to 'member myself to him; then dere was Miss Mary
+dat marry her cousin, Dr. Jim Mobley. They had one child, Captain Fred,
+dat took de Catawba rifles to Cuba and whip Spain for blowin' up de
+Maine. You say you rather I talk 'bout old master and de high spots?
+Well, Master Biggers had a big plantation and a big mansion four miles
+southeast of Chester. He buy my mammy and her chillun in front of de
+court house door in Chester, at de sale of de Clifton Estate. Then he
+turn 'round and buy my pappy dere, 'cause my mammy and sister Lizzie was
+cryin' 'bout him have to leave them. Mind you I wasn't born then.
+Marster Biggers was a widower then and went down and courted de widow
+Gibson, who had a plantation and fifty slaves 'tween Kershaw and Camden.
+Dere is where I was born.
+
+"Marster had one child, a boy, by my mistress, Miss Sallie. They call
+him Black George. Him live long enough to marry a angel, Miss Kate
+McCrorey. They had four chillun. Dere got to be ninety slaves on de
+place befo' war come on. One time I go wid pappy to de Chester place.
+Seem lak more slaves dere than on de Gibson place. Us was fed up to de
+neck all de time, though us never had a change of clothes. Us smell
+pretty rancid maybe, in de winter time, but in de summer us no wear very
+much. Girls had a slip on and de boys happy in their shirt tails.
+
+"Kept fox hounds on both places. Old Butler was de squirrel and 'possum
+dog. What I like best to eat? Marster, dere is nothin' better than
+'possum and yallow sweet 'taters. Right now, I wouldn't turn dat down
+for pound cake and Delaware grape wine, lak my mistress use to eat and
+sip while she watch my mammy and old Aunt Tilda run de spinnin' wheels.
+
+"De overseer on de place was name Mr. Mike Melton. No sir, he poor man
+but him come from good folks, not poor white trash. But they was cussed
+by marster, when after de war they took up wid de 'publican party. Sad
+day for old marster when him didn't hold his mouth, but I'll get to dat
+later.
+
+"Marster Biggers believe in whippin' and workin' his slaves long and
+hard; then a man was scared all de time of being sold away from his wife
+and chillun. His bark was worse then his bite tho', for I never knowed
+him to do a wicked thing lak dat.
+
+"How long was they whipped? Well, they put de foots in a stock and clamp
+them together, then they have a cross-piece go right across de breast
+high as de shoulder. Dat cross-piece long enough to bind de hands of a
+slave to it at each end. They always strip them naked and some time they
+lay on de lashes wid a whip, a switch or a strap. Does I believe dat was
+a great sin? No sir. Our race was just lak school chillun is now. De
+marster had to put de fear of God in them sometime, somehow, and de
+Bible don't object to it.
+
+"I see marster buy a many a slave. I never saw him sell but one and he
+sold dat one to a drover for $450.00, cash down on de table, and he did
+dat at de request of de overseer and de mistress. They was uneasy 'bout
+him.
+
+"They give us Christmas Day. Every woman got a handkerchief to tie up
+her hair. Every girl got a ribbon, every boy a barlow knife, and every
+man a shin plaster. De neighbors call de place, de shin plaster, Barlow,
+Bandanna place. Us always have a dance in de Christmas.
+
+"After freedom when us was told us had to have names, pappy say he love
+his old Marster Ben Clifton de best and him took dat titlement, and I's
+been a Clifton ever since.
+
+"Go way, white folks! What everthing mate for? De birds, de corn tassle
+and de silk, man and woman, white folks and colored folks mates. You ask
+me what for I seek out Christina for to marry. Dere was sumpin' 'bout
+dat gal, dat day I meets her, though her hair had 'bout a pound of
+cotton thread in it, dat just 'tracted me to her lak a fly will sail
+'round and light on a 'lasses pitcher. I kept de Ashford Ferry road hot
+'til I got her. I had to ask her old folks for her befo' she consent.
+Dis took 'bout six months. Everything had to be regular. At last I got
+de preacher, Rev. Ray Shelby to go down dere and marry us. Her have been
+a blessin' to me every day since.
+
+"Us have seven chillun. They's scattered east, west, north, and south.
+De only one left is just David, our baby, and him is a baby six foot
+high and fifty-one years old.
+
+"Yes sir, us had a bold, drivin', pushin', marster but not a
+hard-hearted one. I sorry when military come and arrest him. It was dis
+a way, him try to carry on wid free labor, 'bout lak him did in slavery.
+Chester was in military district no. 2. De whole state was under dat
+military government. Old marster went to de field and cuss a nigger
+woman for de way she was workin', choppin' cotton. She turnt on him wid
+de hoe and gashed him 'bout de head wid it. Him pull out his pistol and
+shot her. Dr. Babcock say de wound in de woman not serious. They swore
+out a warrant for Marster Biggers, arrest him wid a squad, and take him
+to Charleston, where him had nigger jailors, and was kicked and cuffed
+'bout lak a dog. They say de only thing he had to eat was corn-meal-mush
+brought 'round to him and other nice white folks in a tub and it was
+ladeled out to them thru de iron railin' into de palms of dere hands.
+Mistress stuck by him, went and stayed down dere. The filthy prison and
+hard treatments broke him down, and when he did get out and come home,
+him passed over de river of Jordan, where I hopes and prays his soul
+finds rest. Mistress say one time they threatened her down dere, dat if
+she didn't get up $10,000 they would send him where she would never see
+him again.
+
+"Well, I must be goin'. Some day when de crops is laid by and us get de
+boll weevil whipped off de field, I'll get David to bring me and dat
+gal, Christina, you so curious 'bout, to Winnsboro to see you. Oh, how
+her gonna laugh and shake her sides when I get home and tell her all
+'bout what's down on dat paper! You say it's to be sent to Washington?
+Why, de President and his wife will be tickled at some of them things.
+I's sure they will. Dat'll make Christina have a great excitement when I
+tell her we is to be talked 'bout way up dere. I 'spect it will keep her
+wake and she'll be hunchin' me and asking me all thru de night, what I
+give in.
+
+"Oh, well, I's thankful for dis hour in which I's been brought very near
+to de days of de long long ago. Maybe I'll get a pension and maybe I
+won't. Just so de Lord and de President take notice of us, is enough for
+me."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  From Field Notes.
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  April 29, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  FOLK LORE: FOLK TALES (Negro)
+
+
+"I wuz born in Fairfield, dat is over yonder across Broad River, you
+knos what dat is, don't you? Yes sir, it wuz on Marse Johnson D.
+Coleman's plantation. And he had a plantation! Dese niggers here in
+Carlisle--and niggers is all dey is too--dey don't know what no
+plantation is. When I got big enough fer to step around, from de very
+fus, my maw took me in de big house. It still dat, cep it done bout fell
+down now, to what it wuz then. But some of Marse's folks, dey libs down
+dar still. Den you see, dey is like dese white folks up 'round here now.
+Dey ain't got no big money like dey had when I wuz a runnin' up. Time I
+got big enough fer to run aroun' in my shirt tail, my maw, she lowed one
+night to my paw, when he wuz settin by de fire, dat black little nigger
+over dar, he got to git hissef some pants kaise I'se gwine to put him up
+over de white fokes table. In dem times de doos and winders, dey nebber
+had no screen wire up to dem like dey is now. Fokes didn't know nothin
+bout no such as dat den. My Marster and all de other big white fokes,
+dey raised pea fowls. Is yu ebber seed any? Well, ev'y spring us little
+niggers, we coch dem wild things at night. Dey could fly like a buzzard.
+Dey roosted up in de pine trees, right up in de tip top. So de Missus,
+she hab us young uns clam up dar and git 'em when dey first took roost.
+Us would clam down and my maw, she would pull de long feathers out'n de
+tails. Fer weeks de cocks, dey wouldn't let nobody see 'em if dey could
+help it. Dem birds is sho proud. When dey is got de feathers, dey jus
+struts on de fences, and de fences wuz rail in dem days. If'n dey could
+see dereself in a puddle o' water after a rain, dey would stay dar all
+day a struttin' and carring on like nobody's business. Yes sir, dem wuz
+purty birds. After us got de feathers, de Missus, she'ud low dat all de
+nigger gals gwine to come down in de wash house and make fly brushes.
+Sometime de Missus 'ud gib some of de gals some short feathers to put in
+dere Sunday hats. When dem gals got dem hats on, I used to git so
+disgusted wid 'em I'd leave 'em at church and walk home by my sef.
+Anyway, by dat time all de new fly brushes wuz made and de Missus, she
+hab fans make from de short feathers for de white fokes to fan de air
+wid on hot days. Lawdy, I'se strayed fur from what I had started out fer
+to tell you. But I knowed dat you young fokes didn't know nothin' bout
+all dat. In dem days de dining room wuz big and had de windows open all
+de summer long, and all de doos stayed streched too. Quick as de mess of
+victuals began to come on de table, a little nigger boy was put up in de
+swing, I calls it, over de table to fan de flies and gnats off'en de
+Missus' victuals. Dis swing wuz just off'n de end of de long table. Some
+of de white fokes had steps a leadin' up to it. Some of 'em jus had de
+little boys maws to fech de young'uns up dar till dey got fru; den dey
+wuz fetched down again.
+
+"Well, when I got my pants, my maw fetched me in and I clumb up de steps
+dat Marse Johnson had, to git up in his swing wid. At fus, dey had to
+show me jus how to hole de brush, kaise dem peacock feathers wuz so
+long, iffen you didn't mind your bizness, de ends of dem feathers would
+splash in de gravy er sumpin nother, and den de Missus table be all
+spattered up. Some o' de Marsters would whorp de nigger chilluns fer dat
+carelessness, but Marse Johnson, he always good to his niggers. Mos de
+white fokes good to de niggers round bout whar I comes from.
+
+"It twad'nt long for I got used to it and I nebber did splash de
+feathers in no rations. But iffen I got used to it, I took to agoin to
+sleep up thar. Marse Johnson, he would jus git up and wake me up. All de
+white fokes at de table joke me so bout bein' so lazy, I soon stop dat
+foolishness. My maw, she roll her eyes at me when I come down atter de
+marster had to wake me up. Dat change like ever thing else. When I got
+bigger, I got to be house boy. Dey took down de swing and got a little
+gal to stand jus 'hind de Missus' chair and fan dem flies. De Missus low
+to Marse Johnson dat de style done change when he want to know how come
+she took de swing down. So dat is de way it is now wid de wimmen, dey
+changes de whole house wid de style; but I tells my chilluns, ain't no
+days like de ole days when I wuz a shaver.
+
+"Atter de war, I come up to Shelton and got to de 'P' Hamilton place. I
+wuz grown den. I seed a young girl dar what dey called 'Evvie'. Her paw,
+he had b'longed to de Chicks, so dats who she wuz, Evvie Chick. Dar she
+sets in dat room by de fire. Now us got 'leven chilluns. Dey is
+scattered all about. Dey is good to us in our ole age. Us riz 'em to
+obey de Lawd and mine us. Dats all dey knows, and iffen fokes would do
+dat now, dey wouldn't have no sassy chilluns like I sees here in
+Carlisle.
+
+"Evvie, what year wuz it we got married? Yes, dat's right. It wuz de
+year of de 'shake'. Is you heerd bout de 'shake'? Come out here Evvie
+and les tell him dat, kaise dese young fokes doan know nothin'. It wuz
+dark, and we wuz eatin' supper, when sumpin started to makin' de dishes
+fall out'n de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz somebody a jumpin' up
+and down on de flo. Den we knowed dat it wuz sumpin else er makin' dem
+dishes fall out o' de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz Judgment day,
+kaise ev'ry thing started fallin' worser and worser. De dishes fell so
+fast you couldn't pick'em up. Some of us went down to de spring. De
+white fokes, dey come along wid us and dey make us fetch things from de
+big house, like fine china dat de Missus didn't want to git broke up.
+She tole us dat it wuz er earthquake and it wasn't no day o' Judgment.
+Anyway, we lowed de white fokes might be wrong, so us niggers started to
+a prayin', and den all de niggers on de plantation dat heerd us, well de
+come along and jined wid us in de prayin' and singin'. Us wuz all a
+shakin' mos as bad as de earth wuz, kaise dat wuz a awful time dat we
+libbed through fer bout twenty minutes--de white fokes lowed it lasted
+only ten, but I ain't sho about dat. When we got back to de big house,
+de cupboard in de kitchen had done fell plum' down. In de nigger houses,
+de chimneys mos all fell in, and de chicken houses ev'rywhar wuz shuck
+down. While we wuz a lookin' aroun, and de wimmen fokes, dey wuz a
+takin' on mightily another shake come up. Us all took fer de spring
+agin; dis one lasted bout long as de first one. Us prayed and sung and
+shouted dis time. It sho stopped de earth a shakin' and a quiverin'
+some, kaise dat thing went on fer a whole week; ceptin de furs two wuz
+de heaviest. All de other ones wuz lighter. Iffen it hadn't been fur us
+all a beggin' de Lawd fer to sho us his mercy, it ain't no tellin' how
+bad dem shakes would er been. Miss Becky Levister, you know her, she
+live up yander in your uncle John's house now, she wuz wid us. She wuz
+jus a little girl den. Her paw wuz Mr. Kelly. He died for ever you wuz
+born. Not long ago I seed her. She lowed to me, 'uncle Henry, do you
+recollect in de time o' de shake? Lacken she think I'd fergit such as
+dat. It wuz in de time o' de worsest things dis ole nigger is ebber seed
+hisself, and I is gwine on 82 now. Miss Becky, she wuz a settin' in her
+car wid some one drivin' her, but she ain't fergot dis ole nigger. If I
+is up town and Miss Becky, she ride by, she look out and lows' 'Howdy
+uncle Henry', and I allus looks up and raises my hat. I likes mannerable
+white fokes, mysef, and den, I likes mannerable niggers fer as dat goes.
+Some of dese fokes, now both white--I hates to say it--and niggers, dey
+trys to act like dey ain't got no sense er sumpin'. But you know one
+thing I knos real fokes when I sees dem and dey can't fool me."
+
+Aunt Evvie tells the following story about her father, Rufus Chick. The
+story is known by all of the reliable white folks of the surrounding
+neighborhood also: "My paw, Rufus Chick, lived on the Union side of
+Broad River, the latter days of his life. Maj. James B. Steadman had
+goats over on Henderson Island that my paw used to care for. He went
+over to the Island in a batteau. One afternoon, he and four other
+darkies were going over there when the batteau turned over. The four
+other men caught to a willow bush and were rescued. My paw could not
+swim, and he got drowned. For three weeks they searched for his body,
+but they never did find it. Some years after, a body of a darky was
+found at the mouth of the canal, down near Columbia. The body was
+perfectly petrified. This was my paw's body. The canal authorities sent
+the body to a museum in Detroit. It was January 11, 1877 when my father
+got drowned.
+
+"When I wuz a young fellow I used to race wid de horses. I wuz de swifes
+runner on de plantation. A nigger, Peter Feaster, had a white horse of
+his own, and de white fokes used to bet amongst de selves as much as
+$20.00 dat I could outrun dat horse. De way us did, wuz to run a hundred
+yards one way, turn around and den run back de hundred yards. Somebody
+would hold de horse, and another man would pop de whip fer us to start.
+Quick as de whip popped, I wuz off. I would git sometimes ten feet ahead
+of de horse 'fore dey could git him started. Den when I had got de
+hundred yards, I could turn around quicker dan de horse would, and I
+would git a little mo' ahead. Corse wid dat, you had to be a swift man
+on yer feets to stay head of a fas horse. Peter used to git so mad when
+I would beat his ole horse, and den all de niggers would laf at him
+kaise de white fokes give me some of de bettin money. Sometimes dey
+would bet only $10.00, sometimes, $15 or $20. Den I would race wid de
+white fokes horses too. Dey nebber got mad when I come out ahead. After
+I got through, my legs used to jus shake like a leaf. So now, I is gib
+plum out in dem and I tributes it to dat. Evvie, she lowed when I used
+to do dat after we wuz married, dat I wuz gwine to give out in my legs,
+and sho nuf I is."
+
+"Uncle" Henry says that his legs have given out in the bone.
+
+  Source: Henry Coleman and his wife, Evvie, of Carlisle, S. C.
+  Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  District #4
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  May 31, 1937
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born about 1857 and my wife about 1859. I lived on Squire
+Keller's farm, near the Parr place, and after the squire died I belonged
+to Mrs. Elizabeth (Wright) Keller. My mother died when I was a boy and
+my father was bought and carried to Alabama. My father was Gilliam
+Coleman and my mother, Emoline Wright. My master and mistress was good
+to me. The old Squire was as fine a man as ever lived on earth. He took
+me in his home and took care of me. After the war the mistress stayed on
+the place and worked the slaves right on, giving them wages or shares.
+
+"The slaves were not whipped much; I 'member one man was whipped pretty
+bad on Maj. Kinard's place. He had a colored man to do whipping for
+him--his name was Eph. There was no whiskey on the place, never made
+any. Us did cooking in the kitchen wid wide fireplaces.
+
+"When the Yankees came through at the end of the war, they took all the
+stock we had. The mistress had a fine horse, its tail touching the
+ground, and we all cried when it was taken; but we got it back, as some
+men went after it.
+
+"I married in 1874 to Ellen T. Williams. She belonged to Bill Reagan.
+After I married I worked in the railroad shops at "Helena", and
+sometimes I fired the engine on the road, for about eight years. Then I
+went into the ministry. I was called by the Spirit of the Lord,
+gradually, and I preached 51 years. I have been superannuated two years.
+
+"I have one child, a son, who is in the pullman service at Washington,
+D. C.
+
+"I owned my little house and several acres and am still living on it."
+
+  Source: Rev. Tuff Coleman and wife (80 and 78), Newberry, S. C.
+  Interviewer: G. Leland Summer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, May 27, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  MOM LOUISA COLLIER
+  Ex-Slave, 78 years.
+
+
+"I born en raise up dere in Colonel Durant yard en I in my 78th year
+now. Dat seem lak I ole, don' it? Coase Colonel Durant hab plenty udder
+colored peoples 'sides us, but dey ne'er lib dere in de yard lak we. Dey
+lib up in de quarters on de plantation. My pappy name Ben Thompson en he
+hadder stay dere close to de big house cause he wus de Colonel driver.
+De Colonel hab uh big ole carriage wha' to ride in den. It hab uh little
+seat in de front fa my pappy to set in en den it hab two seat 'hind de
+driver whey de Colonel en he family is ride. I kin see dat carriage jes
+uz good right now dat my white folks hab to carry em whey dey is wanna
+go."
+
+"Den my mammy come from de udder side uv Pee Dee en she name, Lidia
+Bass. She was de servant 'round de yard dere en dat count fa we to ne'er
+stay in de quarters wid de udder colored peoples 'fore freedom declare.
+I ne'er hadder do no work long uz I lib dere in de yard cause I ain'
+been but five year ole when freedom declare. My grandmammy lib right
+dere close us en Colonel Durant hab she jes to look a'ter aw de
+plantation chillun when dey parents wuz workin'. Aw uv de plantation
+peoples 'ud take dey chillun dere fa my grandmammy to nu'se."
+
+"I 'member one day dere come uh crowd uv peoples dere dat dey tell us
+chillun wuz de Yankees. Dey come right dere t'rough de Colonel yard en
+when I see em, I wuz 'fraid uv em. I run en hide under my grandmammy
+bed. Don' know wha' dey say cause I ain' ge' close 'nough to hear nuthin
+wha' dey talk 'bout. De white folks hadder herry (hurry) en put t'ings
+in pots en bury em or hide em somewhey when dey hear dat de Yankees wus
+comin' cause dey scare dem Yankees might take dey t'ings lak dey is
+carry 'way udder folks t'ings. I hear em say dey ne'er take nuthin from
+de Colonel but some uv he wood."
+
+"My white folks was well-off peoples en dey ain' ne'er use no harsh
+treatment on dey plantation peoples. De Colonel own aw dis land 'bout
+here den en he see dat he overseer on de plantation provide plenty uv
+eve't'ing us need aw de time. I hear tell 'bout some uv de white folks
+'ud beat dey colored peoples mos' to death, but I ain' ne'er see none uv
+dat no whey. I is 'member when dey'ud sell some uv de colored peoples
+way offen to annuder plantation somewhey. Jes been bid em offen jes lak
+dey wuz cattle. Some uv de time dey'ud sell uh man wife 'way en den he
+hadder ge' annuder wife."
+
+"A'ter freedom declare, we ne'er lib dere at de big house no more. Move
+in de colored settlement en den we ain' eat at de big house no more
+neither. Dey le' us hab uh garden uv we own den en raise us own chicken
+en aw dat. I 'member de Colonel gi'e us so mucha t'ing eve'y week en it
+hadder las' us from one Saturday to de next. My mammy 'ud go to de
+Colonel barn eve'y week en ge' she portion uv meal en meat. Dat de way
+dey pay de hand fa dey work den. Ne'er gi'e em no money den."
+
+"Peoples wha' lib on Colonel Durant plantation ain' know nuthin but to
+lib on de fat uv de land. Dey hab plenty cows den en dey gi'e us plenty
+uv milk eve'y day. I 'member we chillun use'er take we tin cup en go up
+to de big house en ge' us milk to drink en den some uv de cows 'ud be so
+gentle lak dat we chillun is follow em right down side de path. Den when
+dere ne'er wuz nobody lak de Colonel overseer 'bout to see us, we is
+ketch de cow en ge' some more milk. I al'ays'ud lub to drink me milk dat
+way. We is eat plenty green peas en 'tatoes en fish in dem days too en
+dey is use 'tatoe pie right smart den."
+
+"Aw de colored peoples on Colonel Durant plantation hab good bed wha' to
+sleep on en good clothes to put on dey back. Coase we ne'er hab no
+bought fu'niture in dem days, but we hab bedstead wha' dey make right
+dere en benches en some uv de time dey is make wha' dey call 'way back
+chair. Den we is make us own bed outer hay cause de white folks ne'er
+spare de colored peoples no cotton den. Hadder cut de hay in de fall uv
+de year en dry it jes lak dey dries it fa to feed de cattle on. Den dey
+hadder take sack en sew em up togedder en put de hay in dese. Dey sleep
+right smart in dem days. Don' mucha people sleep on straw bed dese day
+en time en dey don' dress lak dey use'er neither. I 'member de long
+dress dey is wear den. Hadder hold em up when dey walk so dey won' tetch
+de floor 'bout em. Den some uv dem is wear wha' dey call leggens. Dey'ud
+gather em 'round de knee en le' em show 'bout de ankle. Dey wuz pretty,
+dat dey wuz. De white folks'ud make de plantation clothes outer calico
+en jeanes cloth en dat time. De jeanes cloth be wha' dey make de boy
+clothes outer. Dey is weave aw dey cloth right dere on de plantation en
+den dey use'er dye de thread en weave aw sorta check outer de different
+color thread. Wha' dey make de dye outer? Dey ge' bark outer de woods en
+boil de color outer it en den dey boil de thread in dat. Dat how dey is
+make dey dye. Ne'er see de peoples hab no hat lak dey hab now neither.
+Aw de colored peoples wear wha' dey call shuck hat den cause dey been
+make outer shuck. Dat aw de kinder hat we is hab."
+
+"Peoples use'er ge' aw kinder useful t'ing outer de woods in dem days
+'way back dere. Ne'er hadder buy no me'icine tall den. Ain' ne'er been
+no better cough cure no whey den de one my ole mammy use'er make fa we
+chillun. She larnt 'bout how it made when she stay 'round de Missus en
+dat how come I know wha' in it. Jes hadder go in de woods en ge' some
+cherry, call dat wild cherry, en cut some uv de wild cherry bark fust
+(first) t'ing. A'ter dat yuh hadder find some uv dese long-leaf pine en
+ge' de bud outer dat. Den yuh hadder go to whey dere some sweet gum grow
+en ge' de top outer dem en ge' some mullen to put wid it. Ain' ne'er no
+cough stand aw dat mix up togedder in no day en time. Dey gi'e dat to de
+peoples fa dat t'ing wha' dey use'er call de grip cough. Den dey use'er
+make uh t'ing dat dey call "bone set" tea. I forge' how dey make it but
+dey gi'e it to de peoples when dey hab de fevers. It been so bitter dat
+it'ud lift yuh up 'fore yuh is ge' it aw down de t'roat. Ain' see no
+fever me'icine lak dat nowadays."
+
+"Yas'um, I 'members when dey hab plenty uv dem cornshucking to one
+annuder barn. De peoples'ud come from aw de plantation 'bout dere. Dem
+corn-shuckings wuz big times, dat dey wuz. Gi'e eve'body aw de
+"hopping-john" dey kin eat. Jes cook it aw in uh big pot dere in de yard
+to de big house. Ain' nuthin ne'er eat no better den dat "hopping-john"
+is eat."
+
+"Den de peoples use'er come from aw de plantation 'bout en hab big
+dancing dere. Dat when I lub to be 'bout. Dey hab uh big fire build up
+outer in de yard en dat wha' dey dance 'round 'bout. Call dat uh torch
+fire. Dey'ud hab fiddle en dey dance wha' dey call de reel dance den. I
+'member I use'er lub to watch dey feet when dat fiddle 'ud ge' to
+playing. I jes crawl right down on me knees dere whey I'ud see dey feet
+jes uh going."
+
+"I ne'er hab mucha schooling 'fore freedom declare cause I been raise up
+on de plantation. Dis child (her daughter) pappy wuz de house boy to de
+big house en he ge' more schooling den I is. De Missus larnt he how to
+read en write she self. A'ter freedom declare, I go to school to uh
+white man up dere to de ole Academy en den I is go to annuder school
+down dere to uh blacksmith shop. I go to uh white man dere too. Ne'er
+hab no colored teacher den cause dey ain' hab 'nough schooling den. Dese
+chillun don' know nuthin 'bout dem times. I tell dese chillun I don'
+know wha' dey wanna run 'bout so mucha cause dere plenty t'ing to see
+dat pass right dere by us house eve'y day. I t'ink dis uh better day en
+time to lib en cause dis uh brighter day now dat we hab."
+
+  Source: Mom Louisa Collier, age 78, colored, Marion, S. C
+             Personal interview, May 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  JOHN COLLINS
+  EX-SLAVE, 85 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+John Collins lives in a two-room frame cottage by the side of US 21,
+just one mile north of the town of Winnsboro, S. C. on the right side of
+the highway and a few hundred yards from the intersection of US 21 and
+US 22. The house is owned by Mr. John Ameen. His son, John, who lives
+with him, is a farm hand in the employ of Mr. John Ameen, and is his
+father's only support.
+
+"They tells me dat I was born in Chester County, just above de line dat
+separates Chester and Fairfield Counties. You know where de 'dark
+corner' is, don't you? Well, part is in Fairfield County and part is in
+Chester County. In dat corner I first see de light of day; 'twas on de
+29th of February, 1852. Though I is eighty-five years old, I's had only
+twenty-one birthdays. I ketches a heap of folks wid dat riddle. They ask
+me: 'How old is you Uncle John?' I say: 'I is had twenty-one birthdays
+and won't have another till 1940. Now figure it out yourself, sir, if
+you is so curious to know my age!' One time a smart aleck, jack-leg,
+Methodist preacher, of my race, come to my house and figured all day on
+dat riddle and never did git de correct answer. He scribbled on all de
+paper in de house and on de back of de calendar leaves. I sure laughed
+at dat preacher. I fears he lacked some of dat good old time 'ligion, de
+way he sweated and scribbled and fussed.
+
+"My daddy was name Steve Chandler. My mammy was called Nancy. I don't
+know whether they was married or not. My daddy was sent to Virginia,
+while de war was gwine on, to build forts and breastworks around
+Petersburg, so they say, and him never come back. I 'members him well.
+He was a tall black man, over six feet high, wid broad shoulders. My
+son, John, look just lak him. Daddy used to play wid mammy just lak she
+was a child. He'd ketch her under de armpits and jump her up mighty nigh
+to de rafters in de little house us lived in.
+
+"My mammy and me was slaves of old Marse Nick Collins. His wife, my
+mistress, was name Miss Nannie. Miss Nannie was just an angel; all de
+slaves loved her. But marster was hard to please, and he used de lash
+often. De slaves whisper his name in fear and terror to de chillun, when
+they want to hush them up. They just say to a crying child: 'Shet up or
+old Nick will ketch you!' Dat child sniffle but shet up pretty quick.
+
+"Marster didn't have many slaves. Best I 'member, dere was about twenty
+men, women, and chillun to work in de field and five house slaves. Dere
+was no good feelin's 'twixt field hands and house servants. De house
+servants put on more airs than de white folks. They got better things to
+eat, too, than de field hands and wore better and cleaner clothes.
+
+"My marster had one son, Wyatt, and two daughters, Nannie and Elizabeth.
+They was all right, so far as I 'member, but being a field hand's child,
+off from de big house, I never got to play wid them any.
+
+"My white folks never cared much about de slaves having 'ligion. They
+went to de Universalist Church down at Feasterville. They said everybody
+was going to be saved, dat dere was no hell. So they thought it was just
+a waste of time telling niggers about de hereafter.
+
+"In them days, way up dere in de 'dark corner', de white folks didn't
+had no schools and couldn't read or write. How could they teach deir
+slaves if they had wanted to?
+
+"De Yankees never come into de 'dark corner'. It was in 1867, dat us
+found out us was free; then we all left. I come down to Feasterville and
+stayed wid Mr. Jonathan Coleman. From dere, I went to Chester. While I
+was living dere, I married Maggie Nesbit. Us had five chillun; they all
+dead, 'cept John. My wife died two months ago.
+
+"I is tired now, and I is sad. I's thinking about Maggie and de days dat
+are gone. Them memories flood over me, and I just want to lay down.
+Maybe I'll see you sometime again. I feel sure I'll see Maggie befo'
+many months and us'll see de sunrise, down here, from de far hebben
+above. Good day. Glad you come to see me, sir!"
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Nov. 29, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"Time is but time, and how is I to know when I was born when everybody
+knows dat dey never had no calendars when I come here. Few it was dat
+ever seed even a Lady's Birthday Almanac. I is 75 years old. I was dat
+last January on de 13th day [~HW: 186~]. I was born in old Union County
+about 4 miles south of Gaffney.
+
+"Marse Mike Montgomery had a place dat reached from town way yonder to
+Broad River whar de Ninety-nine Islands lays. Now, de way de road lays,
+dey counts it twelve miles from Gaffney. When I was a boy it was lots
+further dan dat.
+
+"Never know'd why, but de Red Shirts whipped my pa, Tom Corry. Dey jes'
+come and got him out'n his house. He come back in de house. Chilluns was
+not give no privileges in dem days, so I never axed no questions, kaise
+I was fear'd. Chilluns jes' trots into your business dese days.
+
+"My pa say he was a slave on dem Ninety-nine Islands. All I know is what
+he told me. Mr. Mike Montgomery built lots of boats. Dey carried from 50
+to 60 bales of cotton down at one time. De cotton was carried in de
+fall. De Smith place jined de Montgomery place and dat run into de Nancy
+Corry place. I have forded de river dar lots of times. Broad River is
+shallow, deepest place in it back den was at de mouth of King Creek,
+jes' below Cherokee Falls. It ain't so broad dar.
+
+"Pa was de boatman for Mr. Mike. De boat was big and long, and dey
+always started off early in de morning wid a load of cotton. Old man
+Dick Corry had to stand in de boat jes' behind pa. Dey had two steermen.
+So many rocks in de shallow water dat it kept de steermen busy dodging
+rooks. Dey pushed de boat off de rocks wid long poles. Dey had to work
+away from de rocks. Sometimes dey had to get out in de water and roll
+some rocks from dere path if de water wasn't cold.
+
+"Wharever night caught dem, dar dey stopped and pitched a camp. Dey
+fished and killed wild ducks or birds dat was plentiful den, and cooked
+dem along wid bread and other things fetched from home. On de way from
+Columbia dey had lots of store-bought things to eat. Store-bought things
+was a treat den. Now ducks and things is a treat. Times sho changes
+fast.
+
+"Spring was took up wid farming. Every man, white and black, had a
+family back in dem days. Dat dey did, rich or poor, white or black, all
+raised families. Men farmed and hauled manure and cleaned up de
+plantation lots and fields and grubbed in de spring. Women cooked and
+washed and ironed and spun and kept house and made everybody in de house
+clothes, and made all de bed clothes. Dey stayed home all of de time.
+Men got through work and set down at home wid deir wives and never run
+around. Now all goes. Dat's all dey does dese days is go.
+
+"We had plenty of bread and milk and we raised hogs and killed all kinds
+of wild things like turkey, ducks and birds, and caught fish. Men had
+guns dat dey used every day, and dey hit things, too. Folks kept in
+practice, wid guns and had shooting matches.
+
+"After dey stopped boating, wagons come in. Den things begin to change.
+Dey still is changing. Wagons went to Spartanburg to take cotten. Folks
+never went to Columbia no more. Spartanburg begin to grow and it sho
+still is at it."
+
+  Source: Bouregard Corry (N, 75), Rt. 2, Gaffney, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. (11/22/37).
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  CALEB CRAIG
+  EX SLAVE 86 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Caleb Craig lives in a four-room house, with a hall, eight feet wide,
+through the center and a fireplace in each room. He lives with his
+grandson, who looks after him.
+
+"Who I is? I goes by de name of C. C. All de colored people speaks of me
+in dat way. C. C. dis and C. C. dat. I don't 'ject but my real name is
+Caleb Craig. Named after one of de three spies dat de Bible tell 'bout.
+Him give de favorite report and, 'cause him did, God feed him and clothe
+him all de balance of him life and take him into de land of Canaan,
+where him and Joshua have a long happy life. I seen a picture in a book,
+one time, of Joshua and Caleb, one end of a pole on Joshua's shoulder
+and one end on Caleb's shoulder, wid big bunches of grapes a hangin'
+from dat pole. Canaan must to been a powerful fertile land to make
+grapes lak dat.
+
+"Would you believe dat I can't write? Some of them adultery (adult)
+teachers come to my house but it seem a pack of foolishness; too much
+trouble. I just rather put my money in de bank, go dere when I want it,
+set dat C. C. to de check, and git what I want.
+
+"When I born? Christmas Eve, 1851. Where 'bouts? Blackstock, S. C. Don't
+none of us know de day or de place us was born. Us have to take dat on
+faith. You know where de old Bell house, 'bove Blackstock, is? Dere's
+where I come to light. De old stagecoach, 'tween Charlotte and Columbia,
+changed hosses and stop dere but de railroad busted all dat up.
+
+"My mammy name Martha. Marse John soon give us chillun to his daughter,
+Miss Marion. In dat way us separated from our mammy. Her was a mighty
+pretty colored woman and I has visions and dreams of her, in my sleep,
+sometime yet. My sisters would call me Cale but her never did. Her say
+Caleb every time and all de time. Marse John give her to another
+daughter of his, Miss Nancy, de widow Thompson then, but afterwards her
+marry a hoss drover from Kentucky, Marse Jim Jones. I can tell you funny
+things 'bout him if I has time befo' I go.
+
+"Us chillun was carried down to de June place where Miss Marion and her
+husband, Marse Ed P. Mobley live. It was a fine house, built by old Dr.
+June. Marse Ed bought de plantation, for de sake of de fine house, where
+he want to take Miss Marion as a bride.
+
+"Dere was a whole passle of niggers in de quarter, three hundred or
+maybe more. I didn't count them, 'cause I couldn't count up to a hundred
+but I can now. Ten, ten, double ten, forty-five, and fifteen. Don't dat
+make a hundred? Sho' it do.
+
+"Clothes? Too many dere, for to clothe them much. I b'long to de
+shirt-tail brigade 'til I got to be a man. Why I use to plow in my
+shirt-tail! Well, it wasn't so bad in de summer time and us had big
+fires in de winter time, inside and outside de house, whenever us was
+working'. 'Til I was twelve years old I done nothin' but play.
+
+"Money? Hell no! Excuse me, but de question so surprise me, I's caught
+off my guard. Food? Us got farm produce, sich as corn-meal, bacon,
+'lasses, bread, milk, collards, turnips, 'tators, peanuts, and punkins.
+
+"De overseer was Mr. Brown. My marster was much talked 'bout for workin'
+us on Sunday. He was a lordly old fellow, as I 'member, but dere was
+never anything lak plowin' on Sunday, though I do 'member de hands
+workin' 'bout de hay and de fodder.
+
+"Marse Ed, a great fox hunter, kep' a pack of hounds. Sometime they run
+deer. Old Uncle Phil was in charge of de pack. Him had a special dog for
+to tree 'possums in de nighttime and squirrels in de daytime. Believe
+me, I lak 'possum de best. You lak 'possum? Well, I'll git my grandson
+to hunt you one dis comin' October.
+
+"Marse Ed didn't 'low patarollers (patrollers) on de June place. He tell
+them to stay off and they knowed to stay off.
+
+"Slave drovers often come to de June place, just lak mule drovers and
+hog drovers. They buy, sell, and swap niggers, just lak they buy, sell,
+and swap hosses, mules, and hogs.
+
+"Us had preachin' in de quarters on Sunday. Uncle Dick, a old man, was
+de preacher. De funerals was simple and held at night. De grave was dug
+dat day.
+
+"A man dat had a wife off de place, see little peace or happiness. He
+could see de wife once a week, on a pass, and jealousy kep' him
+'stracted de balance of de week, if he love her very much.
+
+"I marry Martha Pickett. Why I marry her? Well, I see so many
+knock-knee, box-ankle, spindly-shank, flat nose chillun, when I was
+growin' up, dat when I come to choose de filly to fold my colts, I picks
+one dat them mistakes wasn't so lakly to appear in. Us have five
+chillun. Lucy marry a Sims and live in Winnsboro, S. C. Maggie marry a
+Wallace and live in Charlotte, N. C. Mary marry a Brice and live in
+Chester, S. C. Jane not married; she live wid her sister, Mag, in
+Charlotte. John lives 'bove White Oak and farms on a large place I own,
+not a scratch of pen against it by de government or a bank.
+
+"I live on 27 acres, just out de town of Winnsboro. I expects no
+pension. My grandchillun come and go, back'ards and fo'ards, and tell me
+'bout cities, and high falutin' things goin' on here and dere. I looks
+them over sometime for to see if I didn't do sumpin' for deir figures,
+in s'lectin' and marryin' Martha, dat's more important to them than de
+land I'll leave them when I die. When Martha die, I marry a widow name
+Eliza but us never generate any chillun. Her dead. Not 'nough spark in
+me to undertake de third trip, though I still is a subject of 'tentions.
+
+"What 'bout Marse Ed and Marse Jim Jones? Well, you see, Marse Jim was
+close wid his money. Marse Ed was a spender. I 'tend Marse Ed to a
+chicken main once. Marse Jim rode up just as Marse Ed was puttin' up
+$300.00 on a pile brass wing rooster, 'ginst a black breasted red war
+hoss rooster, dat de McCarleys was backin'. Marse Ed lost de bet. But
+him never told Marse Jim, dat befo' he rode up, him had won $500.00 from
+them same men. After de main was over, Marse Jim, bein' brudder-in-law
+to Marse Ed, rode home to dinner wid him. After dinner they was smokin'
+deir cigars befo' de parlor fire dat I was 'viving up. Marse Jim lecture
+Marse Ed for throwin' 'way money. Marse Ed stretch out his long legs and
+say: 'Mr. Jones does you 'member dat day us 'tended de circus in Chester
+and as us got to de top of de hill a blind begger held out his cup to us
+and you put in a quarter?' Mr. Jones say he does 'member dat. Marse Ed
+went on: 'Well, Mr. Jones, I had a dream last night. I dream us comin'
+through de Cumberland Mountains wid a drove of mules from Kentucky. You
+was ridin' a piebald hoss, de same one you rode into South Carolina de
+fust time you come here. You had on a faded, frazzled grey shawl, 'bout
+lak de one you had on today. Us was in front, de outriders behind, when
+us got to de gap in de mountains. De drove stampede just as us git in de
+gap. Us was both kilt. You got to heaven befo' I did. When I did git
+dere, you was befo' de High Court. They examine you and turn over de
+leaves of a big book and find very little dere to your credit. At last
+they say, I think it was de 'Postle Peter dat ask de question. Him say:
+'Everything is recorded in dis book. Us can find nothin'. Do you happen
+to 'member anything you did to your credit down dere on earth?' Then you
+stand up wid dat old shawl 'round your shoulders and say: 'Aha! I do
+'member one thing. One day I was in Chester and put a quarter of a
+dollar in a blind man's tin cup.' De 'postle then tell de recording
+angel to see if him could find dat deed. Him turn over de leaves 'til
+him found it on de page. Then de twelve 'postles retire and 'liberate on
+your case. They come back and de judge pass sentence which was: 'The
+sentence of de High Court is, that in view of your great love of money,
+James Jones, it is de sentence of de court dat you be given back de
+quarter you give de blind beggar in Chester and dat you, James Jones, be
+sent immediate on your way to hell.' Then they both laugh over dat and
+Marse Jim got real happy when he find out Marse Ed quit de main wid
+$200.00 to de good."
+
+  Address:
+  Caleb Craig,
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  That part of the suburb of Winnsboro called "Mexico". Just east of the
+  Southern Railway Company and north of Winnsboro Cotton Mills.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  DINAH CUNNINGHAM
+  EX-SLAVE 84 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Dinah Cunningham lives about seven miles west of Ridgeway, S. C., on the
+Hood place about a hundred yards off the old Devil's Race Track road.
+She lives with her daughter and son-in-law and their three children.
+They live in a two-room frame house with a shed room annex. In the
+annex, Dinah and the smaller children sleep. They are kind to Dinah, who
+is feeble and can do no farm labor. Dinah is as helpless about the home
+as a child.
+
+"I's come up here 'bout seventeen miles for to let you see me. 'Spect
+you don't see much in dis old worn out critter. Now does you?
+
+"Well, here I is, and I wants you white folks to help me, 'cause I's
+served you from generation to generation. Wid de help of de Lord and
+trustin' in Jesus de Lamb, I knows I's goin' to git help. When is they
+gwine to start payin' off? I's heard them say how you got to be on de
+roll and signed up befo' de fourth day of July. So here I is!
+
+"I was born de fust day of March, 1853, out from Ridgeway, sunrise side.
+My marster was David Robertson and my mistress name Sally. Her was
+mighty pretty. Her was a Rembert befo' she marry Marse Dave. They had
+one child dat I was de nurse for and her name was Luray. Her marry Marse
+Charlie Ray.
+
+"De onliest whippin' I got was 'bout dat child. I had de baby on de
+floor on a pallet and rolled over on it. Her make a squeal like she was
+much hurt and mistress come in a hurry. After de baby git quiet and go
+to sleep, she said: 'Dinah, I hates to whip you but de Good Book say,
+spare de rod and spoil de child.' Wid dat, she goes out and git a little
+switch off de crepe myrtle bush and come back and took my left hand in
+her left hand, dat had all de rings on de fingers, and us had it 'round
+dat room. I make a big holler as she 'plied dat switch on dese very legs
+dat you sees here today. They is big and fat now and can scarcely wobble
+me 'long but then, they was lean and hard and could carry me 'long like
+a deer in de woods.
+
+"My white folks was no poor white trash, I tells you! Good marse and
+good mistress had heap of slaves and overseers. One overseer name Mr.
+Welch. De buckra folks dat come visitin', use to laugh at de way he put
+grease on his hair, and de way he scraped one foot back'ards on de
+ground or de floor when they shake hands wid him. He never say much, but
+just set in his chair, pull de sides of his mustache and say 'Yas sah'
+and 'No sah', to them dat speak to him. He speak a whole lot though,
+when he git down in de quarters where de slaves live. He wasn't like de
+same man then. He woke everybody at daylight, and sometime he help de
+patrollers to search de houses for to ketch any slaves widout a pass.
+
+"Us had all us need to eat, sich as was good for us. Marse like to see
+his slaves fat and shiny, just like he want to see de carriage hosses
+slick and spanky, when he ride out to preachin' at Ainswell and sometime
+de Episcopal church at Ridgeway. My young mistress jine de Baptist
+church after she marry, and I 'member her havin' a time wid sewin'
+buckshots in de hem of de dress her was baptized in. They done dat, you
+knows, to keep de skirt from floatin' on top of de water. You never have
+thought 'bout dat? Well, just ask any Baptist preacher and he'll tell
+you dat it has been done.
+
+"When de Yankees come, they went through de big house, tore up
+everything, ripped open de feather beds and cotton mattresses, searchin'
+for money and jewels. Then they had us slaves ketch de chickens, flung
+open de smoke-house, take de meat, meal, flour, and put them in a
+four-hoss wagon and went on down to Longtown. Them was scandlous days,
+boss! I hope never to see de likes of them times wid dese old eyes
+again.
+
+"I 'member 'bout de Ku Klux just one time, though I heard 'bout them a
+heap. They come on de Robertson place all dressed up wid sheets and
+false faces, ridin' on hossback, huntin' for a republican and a radical
+nigger, (I forgits his name, been so long) but they didn't find him.
+They sho' was a sight and liked to scared us all to death.
+
+"Was I ever married? Sure I was, I marry Mack Cunningham. Us was jined
+in de holy wedlock by Marse Alex Matherson, a white trial justice. Ask
+him and he'll tell you when it was. I's got some chillun by dat husband.
+There is William at Charlotte, and Rosy at Ridgeway. Rosy, her marry a
+man name Peay. Then there is Millie Gover at Rembert and Lila Brown at
+Smallwood, de station where Marse Charlie Ray and my Mistress Luray was
+killed by a railroad train runnin' into de automobile they was in. Then
+there is my daughter, Delia Belton, at Ridgeway, and John L., a son
+livin' and farmin' at Cedar Creek.
+
+"I b'longs to de Mt. Olivet Church dat you knows 'bout. White folks
+comes there sometime for to hear de singin'. They say us can carry de
+song better than white folks. Well, maybe us does love de Lord just a
+little bit better, and what's in our mouth is in our hearts.
+
+"What you gwine to charge for all dat writin' you got down there? If you
+writes much more maybe I ain't got enough money to pay for it. I got a
+dollar here but if it's more than dat you'll have to wait on me for de
+balance. You say it don't cost nothin'? Well, glory hallelujah for dat!
+I'll just go 'round to de colored restaurant and enjoy myself wid beef
+stew, rice, new potatoes, macaroni and a cup of coffee. I wonder what
+they'll have for dessert. 'Spect it'll be some kind of puddin'. But I'd
+be more pleased if you would take half of this dollar and go get you a
+good dinner, too. I would like to please you dat much!
+
+"May de good Lord be a watch 'tween me and you 'til us meets again."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #-1655
+  Phoebe Faucette
+  Hampton County
+
+  FOLKLORE
+
+  LUCY DANIELS
+
+
+"Aunt Lucy is a tall well-built old woman who looks younger than her
+years. She delights in talking, and was glad to tell what she knew about
+the olden times.
+
+"I don't know how old I been when de war end. If I been in de world I
+wasn't old enough to pick up nuthin'. Miss Lulie Bowers say I'll be 78
+first of March coming. Miss Lulie was my 'young Missus'. I love Miss
+Lulie, and I thinks she thinks a heap of me--my young Missus, and her
+father, my young Massa. He good to his darkies. He was a rich man--even
+after de war. Miss Lulie say she was de only young lady that could go
+off to college after de war. Miss Lulie help me powerful. She give me
+shoes, and beddin. She and me grow up together. She is in de bed sick
+now. I jes' come from dere. Had de doctor to see her.
+
+"I hear 'em tell 'bout how de soldiers burn 'em out. My mother would
+tell me. My father had gone off to fight. Say dey'd tie de hams an' de
+things on de saddle--and burn de expensive houses. White folks jes' had
+to hide everything. She talk 'bout all de men was gone and de women had
+to pile up, four or five in one house to protect deyselves. My father
+say when dey been 'rough-few-gieing' (refugeeing) de Beaufort Bridge
+been burn down. He say he been so hungry one time he stop to a old
+lady's house and ask her for something to eat. She say she didn't have
+nothing but some dry bread. He take de bread, but he say it been so
+hard, he threw some of it away. But he say he so hungry he wish he
+hadn't throw it away. It was a hard time. Used to have to weave cloth
+and dye thread. Had a loom to weave on and a spinning wheel. My
+grandmother say de Yankees come to her house and take everything, but
+she say one little pullet run out in de weeds and hide and de soldiers
+couldn't find her. She say dat pullet lay and hatch and dat how dey got
+start off again. Dey scramble and dey raise us some how or another.
+
+"I had nine chillun for my first husband and one for my second husband.
+I raise 'em all 'till dey grown; but all dead now 'cept three. My
+husband died last year, I had to work for my chillun. But my second
+husband, he help me wid 'em.
+
+"Dat's all I kin tell you, Miss. I don't remember so much. Chillun in
+those days weren't so bright as dey is now, you know."
+
+  Source: Lucy Daniels, 78 ex-slave, Luray, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Nov. 30, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+  (John Davenport)
+
+
+"My family belonged in slavery time to old Marse Pierce Lake who was de
+Clerk of Court in town, or de Probate Judge. He lived at de old Campbell
+Havird House and I lived dar wid him. My mother belonged to dis Lake
+family and she was named Martha Lake. I don't know who my father was,
+but I was told he was a white man.
+
+"We slaves had good enough quarters to live in, and dey give us plenty
+to eat. De house I live in now is fair, but it has a bad roof. It is my
+wife's chillun's place. My wife had it and left it to dem. She was Ellen
+Gallman, a widow when I married her. Only my blind daughter now live wid
+me. I was married five times and had eighteen chilluns by three wives.
+Each of my wives died befo' I married agin. I didn't separate from any.
+My mother's father lived wid Marse Lake. He and his wife come from
+Virginia.
+
+"I was a boy in slavery and worked and piddled round de house. Sometimes
+I had to work de corn or in de garden. We had plenty to eat. As de old
+saying is, 'We lived at home and boarded at de same place.' We raised
+everything we had to eat, vegetables, hogs, cows and de like. Marster
+had a big garden, but he didn't let his slaves have any garden of deir
+own. We made all our clothes, homespun. My mother used to spin at night
+and work out all day; lots of niggers had to do dat.
+
+"Marse Lake was good to his niggers, but he had to whip dem sometimes,
+when dey was mean. He had six or eight slaves, some on de upper place
+and some on de home place. We got up at daylight and worked all day,
+except for dinner lunch, till it was sundown.
+
+"We never worked at night in de fields. Sometimes Marse would have
+corn-shuckings and de neighbors would come in and help catch up wid
+shucking de corn; den dey would have something to eat. De young folks
+would come, too, and help, and dey would dance and frolic.
+
+"I didn't learn to read and write. Marse never said anything about it.
+My sister learned when some of de white women school teachers boarded at
+Marse Lake's house. De teachers learn't my sister when she was de maid
+of de house, and she could read and write good. Didn't have a school or
+church on de plantation. Atter de war, some of de niggers started a
+brush arbor. Befo' de war, some of us niggers had to come to town wid de
+white folks and go to deir church and set in de gallery.
+
+"De patrollers was sometimes mean. If dey catch'd a nigger away from
+home widout a pass dey sho whipped him, but dey never got any of us. Dey
+come to our house once, but didn't git anybody.
+
+"We had to work all day Saturdays, but not Sundays. Sometimes de fellows
+would slip off and hunt or fish a little on Sunday. Women would do
+washing on Saturday nights, or other nights. We had three days holiday
+when Christmas come, and we had plenty good things to eat, but we had to
+cook it ourselves. De marster would give de chillun little pieces of
+candy.
+
+"Chillun had games like marbles and anti-over. Dey played anti-over by a
+crowd gitting on each side of de house and throwing a ball from one side
+to de other. Whoever got de ball would run around on de other side and
+hit somebody wid it; den he was out of de game. We never believed much
+in ghosts or spooks. I never saw any.
+
+"Some of de folks had remedies for curing, like making hot tea from a
+weed called 'bone-set'. Dat weed grows wild in de woods. It was good
+for chills and fever. De tea is awful bitter. Little bags of asafetida
+was used to hang around de little chillun's necks to ward off fever or
+diptheria.
+
+"We used to call de cows on de plantation like dis: 'co-winch,
+co-winch'. We called de mules like dis: 'co, co', and de hogs and pigs,
+'pig-oo, pig-oo'. We had dogs on de place, too, to hunt wid.
+
+"When freedom come, de marster told us we could go away or stay on. Most
+of us stayed on wid him. Soon atter dis, he got mad at me one day and
+told me to git off de place. I come to town and stayed about two weeks,
+piddling around to git along. I found out whar my mother was--she had
+been sold and sent away. She was in Saluda (Old Town). I went to her and
+stayed two weeks; den she come to Newberry and rented a little cabin on
+Beaver Dam Creek, near Silver Street.
+
+"I remember hearing about de Yankees. When dey come through here dey
+camped in town to keep order and peace. I remember de Ku Klux, too, how
+some of 'em killed niggers. I voted in town on de Republican ticket. I
+am still a Republican. None of my friends held office, but I remember
+some of dem. Old Lee Nance was one, and he was killed by a white man.
+
+"Since de war, de niggers have worked mostly on farms, renting and
+wage-hands. Some of dem have bought little places. Some moved to town
+and do carpenter work, and others jes' piddle around.
+
+"Some of de dances de niggers had was, 'Jump Jim Crow'; one nigger would
+jump up and down while tripping and dancing in de same spot. Some times
+he say, 'Every time I jump, I jump Jim Crow.' We had what was called a
+'Juber' game. He would dance a jig and sing, 'Juber this, Juber that,
+Juber killed a yellow cat'.
+
+"I never thought much about Abraham Lincoln nor Jefferson Davis. Only
+seed de pictures of dem. Reckon dey was all right. Don't know nothing
+about Booker Washington, neither.
+
+"I was 25 years old when I joined de church. I joined because I thought
+I ought to, people preaching Christ and him crucified; and I thought I
+ought to do right. Think everybody ought to join de church and be
+religious.
+
+"What I think of de present generation is hard to say. Dey is not like
+de old people was. De old generation of chilluns could be depended on,
+but de present niggers can't be.
+
+"No, de slaves never expected anything when de war was over, dem in de
+neighborhood didn't. Some say something about gitting 40 acres of land
+and a mule, but we never expected it. None ever got anything, not even
+money from de old marsters or anybody."
+
+  Source: John N. Davenport (N, 89), Newberry, S. C. RFD
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (11/3/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1886-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  June 8, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born, March 10, 1848, on Little River in Newberry county, S. C.
+My master in slavery time was Gilliam Davenport. He was good to his
+slaves, not strict; good to his cattle, and expected his negroes to be
+good to them. But he was quick to resent anything from outsiders who
+crossed his path.
+
+"All that part of the country was good for hunting. The deer, fox, and
+wild turkey have gone; though a few years ago, some men brought some
+foxes there and turned them loose, thinking they would breed, but they
+gradually disappeared. The kildees were many. That was a sign of good
+weather. When they flew high and around in a circle, it was a sign of
+high winds.
+
+"Fishing in the rivers was much done. They fished with hooks on old-time
+canes. They had fish baskets, made of wooden splits, with an opening at
+the end like the wire baskets now used. If they were set anytime, day or
+night, a few hours afterwards would be enough time to catch some fish.
+
+"An old sign was: when the youngest child sweeps up the floor, somebody
+was coming to see you. If a dish-rag was dropped on the floor, somebody
+was coming who would be hungry."
+
+  Source: Moses Davenport (89), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (5/10/37)
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1886-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, July 28, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  CHARLIE DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, 88 Years
+
+
+"I couldn' tell how old I is only as I ask my old Massa son en he tell
+me dat I was born ahead of him cause he had de day put down in he family
+book. I had one of dem slavery bible, but I have a burnin out so many
+times dat it done been burn up. I belong to Mr. George Crawford people.
+Mr. George de one what die up here one of dem other year not far back.
+Dey who been my white folks."
+
+"I can tell you a good deal bout what de people do in slavery time en
+how dey live den, but I can' tell you nothin bout no jump about things.
+My Massa didn' 'low us to study bout none of dem kind of frolickings in
+dat day en time."
+
+"I gwine tell you it just like I experience it in dem days. We chillun
+lived well en had plenty good ration to eat all de time cause my mammy
+cook for she Missus dere to de big house. All she chillun lived in a one
+room house right dere in de white folks yard en eat in de Missus big
+kitchen every day. Dey give my mammy en she chillun just such things as
+de white folks had to eat like biscuit en cake en ham en coffee en
+hominy en butter en all dat kind of eatin. Didn' have no need to worry
+bout nothin 'tall. My Massa had a heap of other colored peoples dere
+besides we, but dey never live dat way. Dere been bout 80 of dem dat
+live up in de quarter just like you see dese people live to de sawmill
+dese days. Dey live mighty near like us, but didn' have no flour bread
+to eat en didn' get no milk en ham neither cause dey eat to dey own
+house. Didn' get nothin from de dairy but old clabber en dey been mighty
+thankful to get dat. Oh, dey had a pretty good house to live in dat was
+furnish wid dey own things dat dey make right dere. Den dey had a garden
+of dey own. My Massa give every one of he plantation family so much of
+land to plant for dey garden en den he give em every Saturday for dey
+time to tend dat garden. You see dey had to work for de white folks all
+de other week day en dey know when dey hear dat cow horn blow, dey had
+to do what de overseer say do. Never couldn' go off de place widout dey
+get a mit (permit) from de overseer neither else dey tore up when dey
+come back. No 'mam, didn' dare to have nothin no time. Didn' 'low you to
+go to school cause if you was to pick up a book, you get bout 100 lashes
+for dat. No 'mam, didn' have no church for de colored peoples in dem
+days. Just had some of dese big oaks pile up one on de other somewhe' in
+de woods on dat whe' we go to church. One of de plantation mens what had
+more learnin den de others was de one what do de preachin dere."
+
+"My Massa wasn' never noways scraggeble to he colored peoples. Didn' cut
+em for every kind of thing, but I is see him beat my stepfather one time
+cause he run away en stay in de woods long time. Oh, he beat him wid a
+switch or a stick or anything like dat he could get hold of."
+
+"Didn' never know nothin bout doing no hard work in us chillun days.
+When I was a boy, I mind de crows out de field. Oh, crows was terrible
+bout pickin up peoples corn in times back dere. You see if dey let de
+crows eat de corn up, dey had to go to de trouble of planting it all
+over again en dat how-come dey send we chillun in de field to mind de
+crows off it. We just holler after em en scare em dat way. Crows was
+mighty worser in dem days den dey is dis day en time."
+
+"I sho remembers when freedom was declare cause I was bout 16 year old
+den. When dem Yankees talk bout comin round, my Massa take all we
+colored boys en all he fast horses en put em back in de woods to de
+canebrake to hide em from de Yankees. It been many a year since den, but
+I recollects dat we was settin dere lookin for de Yankees to get as any
+minute. Wasn' obliged to make no noise neither. Oh, we had big chunk of
+lightwood en cook meat en hoecake en collards right dere in de woods.
+Den my Massa take one of dem oldest plantation boys to de war wid him en
+ain' nobody never hear tell of him no more. He name Willie. O my Lord,
+when dey hear talk bout de Yankees comin, dey take all de pots en de
+kettles en hide em in holes in de fields en dey put dey silver bout some
+tree so dey know whe' dey bury it. Den dey hide de meat en de corn to de
+colored peoples house en when dey hear talk of de Yankees gwine away,
+dey go en get em again. Dem Yankees never destroy nothin bout dere, but
+dey is make my Massa give em a cart of corn en a middlin of meat.
+Yes'um, I look at dem Yankees wid me own eyes. Dey was all dressed up in
+a blue uniform en dey was just as white as you is. Oh, dey said a lot of
+things. Say dey was gwine free de niggers en if it hadn' been for dem,
+we would been slaves till yet. Coase I rather be free den a slave, but
+we never have so much worryations den as people have dese days. When we
+get out of clothes en get sick in dat day en time, we never had to do
+nothin but go to us Massa. Now, we have to look bout every which a way."
+
+"My Massa ask my mother was she gwine live with him any longer after
+freedom was declare en she say she never have no mind to leave dere. We
+live on dere for one year en den we studied to get another place. I
+believes heap of dem white folks died just on account of us get freed.
+Dey never didn' want us to be free."
+
+"I heard a 'oman say somebody had conjured her, but I don' believe in
+none of dat. I knows I got to die some of dese days en dat might come
+before me. I don' bother wid none of dat kind of thing, but I'll tell
+you bout what I has experience. I had two dogs dere en somebody poison
+em cause dey tell me somebody do dat. Oh, I know dey was poison. De
+police say de dog was poison. A 'oman do it dat had chillun what was
+afraid of my dog en dat how-come she poison it. I sho think she done it
+cause it just like dis, anything peoples tell me, I believes it."
+
+"I have seen dem things peoples say is a ghost when I was stayin here to
+Lake View. I plant a garden side de road en one night I hear somethin en
+I look out en dere was a great big black thing in me garden dat was
+makin right for de house. I call me wife en tell her to look yonder. De
+thing was comin right to de house en my wife hurry en light up de lamp.
+I hear de peoples say if you didn' light up de lamp when you see a
+spirit, dat it would sho come in en run you out. I had done paid some
+money on de place but after I see dat thing, I didn' have no mind to
+want it. Had de best garden en chickens dere I ever had, but I never
+bother no worry bout dat. Just pick right up en leave dere to come here
+en I been here ever since. I knows dat been somethin come dere to scare
+me out dat house. Dat ain' been nothin else but a spirit. Ain' been
+nothin else."
+
+  Source: Charlie Davis, age 88, colored, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview, July 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  Henry Grant
+  Columbia, S. C.
+
+  CHARLIE DAVIS'S MUSINGS.
+
+
+Charlie Davis, now seventy-nine years old, was a small boy when the
+slaves were freed. He lives alone in one room on Miller's Alley,
+Columbia, S. C., and is healthy and physically capable of self-support.
+
+"I has been wonderin' what you wanted to talk to dis old nigger 'bout
+since I fust heard you wanted to see me. I takes it to be a honor for a
+white gentleman to desire to have a conversation wid me. Well, here I
+is, and I bet I's one of de blackest niggers you's seen for a season.
+Somehow, I ain't 'shame of my color a-tall. If I forgits I is dark
+complected, all I has to do is to look in a glass and in dere I sho'
+don't see no white man.
+
+"Boss, I is kinda glad I is a black man, 'cause you knows dere ain't
+much expected of them nowhow and dat, by itself, takes a big and heavy
+burden off deir shoulders. De white folks worries too much over dis and
+over dat. They worries 'cause they ain't got no money and, when they
+gits it, they worries agin 'cause they is 'fraid somebody is gwine to
+steal it from them. Yes, sir, they frets and fumes 'cause they can't
+'sociate wid big folks and, when they does go wid them, they is bothered
+'cause they ain't got what de big folks has got.
+
+"It ain't dat way wid most niggers. Nothin' disturbs them much, 'cept a
+empty stomach and a cold place to sleep in. Give them bread to eat and
+fire to warm by, then, hush your mouth; they is sho' safe then! De
+'possum in his hollow, de squirrel in his nest, and de rabbit in his
+bed, is at home. So, de nigger, in a tight house wid a big hot fire, in
+winter, is at home, too.
+
+"Some sort of ease and comfort is 'bout what all people, both white and
+black, is strivin' for in dis world. All of us laks dat somethin' called
+'tentment, in one way or de other. Many white folks and some darkies
+thinks dat a pile of money, a fine house to live in, a 'spensive
+'motorbile, fine clothes, and high 'ciety, is gwine to give them dat.
+But, when they has all dis, they is still huntin' de end of de rainbow a
+little ahead of them.
+
+"Is de black man nervous or is he natchally scary? Well, sir, I is gwine
+to say yes and no to dat. A nigger gits nervous when he hears somethin'
+he don't understand and scared when he sees somethin' he can't make out.
+When he gits sho' 'nough scared, he moves right then, not tomorrow. Lak
+de wild animals of de woods, he ain't 'fraid of de dark, much, if he is
+movin' 'bout, but when he stops, no house is too tight for him, in
+summer or winter. If he sees a strange and curious sight at night, he
+don't have to ask nobody what to do, 'cause he knows dat he has foots.
+It is good-bye wid old clothes, bushes, and fences, when them foots gits
+to 'tendin' to deir business. When you hears a funny and strange noise
+and sees a curious and bad sight, I b'lieves you fust git nervous and
+then dat feelin' grows stronger fas', 'til you git scared. I knows de
+faster I moves, de slower I gits scared.
+
+"From my age now, you can tell dat I was mighty little in slavery time.
+All I knows 'bout them terrible times is what I has heard. I come pretty
+close to them ticklish times, but I can't help from thinkin', even now,
+dat I missed a 'sperience in slavery time dat would be doin' me good to
+dis very day. Dere ain't no doubt dat many a slave learnt good lessons
+dat showed them how to work and stay out of de jail or poorhouse, dat's
+worth a little.
+
+"I has heard my mammy say dat she b'long to de Wyricks dat has a big
+plantation in de northwestern part of Fairfield County and dat my daddy
+b'long to de Graddicks in de northern part of Richland County. Dese two
+plantations was just across de road from each other. Mammy said dat de
+patrollers was as thick as flies 'round dese plantations all de time,
+and my daddy sho' had to slip 'round to see mammy. Sometime they would
+ketch him and whip him good, pass or no pass.
+
+"De patrollers was nothin' but poor white trash, mammy say, and if they
+didn't whip some slaves, every now and then, they would lose deir jobs.
+My mammy and daddy got married after freedom, 'cause they didn't git de
+time for a weddin' befo'. They called deirselves man and wife a long
+time befo' they was really married, and dat is de reason dat I's as old
+as I is now. I reckon they was right, in de fust place, 'cause they
+never did want nobody else 'cept each other, nohow. Here I is, I has
+been married one time and at no time has I ever seen another woman I
+wanted. My wife has been dead a long time and I is still livin' alone.
+All our chillun is scattered 'bout over de world somewhere, and dat
+somewhere is where I don't know. They ain't no help to me now, in my old
+age. But, I reckon they ain't to be blamed much, 'cause they is young,
+full of warm blood and thinks in a different way from de older ones.
+Then, too, I 'spects they thinks deir old daddy would kinda be in deir
+way, and de best thing for them to do is to stay away from me. I don't
+know, it just seems lak de way of de world.
+
+"I come from de Guinea family of niggers, and dat is de reason I is so
+small and black. De Guinea nigger don't know nothin', 'cept hard work,
+and, for him to be so he can keep up wid bigger folks, he has to turn
+'round fas'. You knows dat if you puts a little hog in a pen wid big
+hogs, de little one has got to move 'bout in a hurry amongst de big
+ones, to git 'nough to eat, and de same way wid a little person, they
+sho' has to hustle for what they gits. I has no head for learnin' what's
+in books, and if I had, dere wasn't no schools for to learn dat head,
+when I come 'long. I has made some money, 'long through de years, but
+never knowed how to save it. Now I is so old dat I can't make much, and
+so, I just live somehow, dat's all.
+
+"President Roosevelt has done his best to help de old, poor, and
+forgotten ones of us all, every color and race, while dis 'pression has
+been gwine on in dis country. Is us gwine to git dis new pension what is
+gwine 'bout, or is dat other somebody gwine to think he needs it worser
+than us does? Dat's de question what 'sorbs my mind most, dese days. I
+don't need much, and maybe I don't deserve nothin', but I sho' would lak
+to git hold of dat little dat's 'tended for me by dat man up yonder in
+Washington. (Roosevelt)
+
+"Does I b'lieve in spirits and hants? My answer to dat question is dis:
+'Must my tremblin' spirit fly into a world unknown?' When a person goes
+'way from dis world, dere they is, and dere they is gwine to stay, 'til
+judgment."
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, January 21, 1938
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  HEDDIE DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, 72 Years
+
+
+Lizzie Davis sends word for Heddie Davis to come over to her little
+shack to join in the conversation about old times and Heddie enters the
+room with these words: "Sis, I gwine hug your neck. Sis, I did somethin
+last night dat I oughtn't done en I can' hardly walk dis mornin. Pulled
+off my long drawers last night en never had none to change wid. I can'
+bear to get down en pray or nothin like dat, my knee does ache me so
+bad. I gwine up town yonder en get some oil of wintergreen en put on it.
+Yes'um, dat sho a good thing to strike de pain cause I heard bout dat
+long years ago. Sis, ain' you got no coffee nowhe' dis mornin? God
+knows, de Lord sho gwine bless you, Sis."
+
+"What honey? No'um, I won' here in slavery time. I was just tereckly
+after it. Well, I come here a Lewis, but I inherited de Davis name when
+I married. Old man Peter Lewis was my daddy, en my mother--she was a
+North Carolina woman. Oh, I heard dat man talk bout de old time war so
+much dat I been know what was gwine fly out his mouth time he been have
+a mind to spit it out. My daddy, he belonged to de old man Evans Lewis
+en he been de one his boss pick to carry to de war wid him. Yes'um, he
+stayed up dere to Fort Sumter four years a fightin en hoped shoot dem
+old Yankee robbers. My old man, he had one of dem old guns en I give it
+to his brother Jimmie. He lives way up yonder to de north en he carried
+dat gun wid him just cause I give it to him, he say. He marry my younger
+sister en she grayer den I is. Think dey say dey lives to Rockingham,
+North Carolina. Yes, honey, my daddy was sho in dat wash out dere to
+Fort Sumter. Lord, have mercy, I never hear tell of crabs en shrimps in
+all my life till my daddy come back en tell bout a old woman would be
+gwine down de street, dere to Charleston, cryin, 'Shrimps, more
+shrimps.' But, my Lord, I can' half remember nothin dese days. If I had
+de sense I used to have, I would give de Lord de praise. Honey, he said
+a lot of stuff bout de war. Told a whole chance of somethin. Tell us
+bout de parade en everything, but I is forgetful now en I just can'
+think. De Bible say dat in de course of your life, you will be forgetful
+in dat how I is. Just can' think like I used to. You see, I gwine in 70
+now.
+
+"Oh, I was born dere to Mullins in January on de old man Evans Lewis'
+plantation. Den we moved dere to de Mark Smith place after freedom
+settle here. Dat long high man, dat who been us boss. His wife was name
+Sallie en de place was chock full of hands. No, mam, my white folks
+didn' care bout no quarter on dey plantation. Colored people just
+throwed 'bout all over de place. Oh, I tell you, it was a time cause de
+niggers was dere, plenty of dem. Some of dey house was settin side de
+road, some over in dat corner, some next de big house en so on like dat
+all over de place. Oh, dey lived all right, I reckon. Never didn' hear
+dem say dey got back none. Hear dey live den better den de people lives
+now. Oh, yes'um, I hear my parents say de white folks was good to de
+colored people in slavery time. Didn' hear tell of nobody gettin nothin
+back on one another neither. No, child, didn' never hear tell of nothin
+like dat. Seems like de people don' work dese days like dey used to
+nohow. Well, dey done somethin of everything in dat day en time en work
+bout all de time. Ain' nobody workin much to speak bout dese days cause
+dey walks bout too much, I say. I tell you, when I been a child gwine to
+school, soon as I been get home in de evenin en hit dat door-step, I had
+to strip en put on my everyday clothes en get to work. Had to pick up
+wood en potatoes in de fall or pick cotton. Had to do somethin another
+all de time, but never didn' nobody be obliged to break dey neck en
+hurry en get done in dem days. Chillun just rushes en plays too much
+dese days, I say. No, Lord, I don' want to rush no time. I tellin you,
+when I starts to Heaven, I want to take my time gettin dere.
+
+"Lord, child, I sho hope I gwine to Heaven some of dese days cause old
+Satan been ridin me so tough in dis here world, I ain' see no rest since
+I been know bout I had two feet. My husband, he treat me so mean, if he
+ain' in Heaven, he in de other place, I say. Den all dem chillun, Lord a
+mercy, dey will kill you. I raised all mine by myself en I tell you,
+dey took de grease out of me.
+
+"My daddy, he was a prayin man. Lord knows, he was a prayin man. Seems
+like de old people could beat de young folks a prayin up a stump any
+day. I remember, my daddy come here to de white people church to
+Tabernacle one night en time dem people see him, dey say, 'Uncle Peter,
+de Lord sho send you cause ain' nobody but you can pray dese sinners out
+of hell here tonight.' God knows dat man could sing en pray. Lord, he
+could pray. Oh, darlin child, dat man prayed bout all de time. Prayed
+every mornin en every night en when us would come out de field at 12
+o'clock, us had to hear him pray fore he ever did allow us to eat near a
+morsel. Sis, I remember one day, when dey first started we chillun a
+workin in de field, I come to de house 12 o'clock en I was so hungry, I
+was just a poppin. God knows, people don' serve de Lord like dey used
+to."
+
+"Sis, you wants dat one patch, too. Lord Jesus, dere ain' no limit to
+dis one. Sis, I must be come here on Saturday cause everywhe' I goes, I
+has to work. Hear talk, if you born on a Saturday, you gwine have to
+work hard for what you get all your days. I been doin somethin ever
+since I been big enough to know I somebody. Remember de first thing I
+ever do for a white woman. Ma come home en say, 'Heddie, get up in de
+mornin en wash your face en hands en go up to Miss Rogers en do
+everything just like she say do.' I been know I had to do dat, too,
+cause if I never do it, I know I would been whip from cane to cane.
+When I got dere, I open de gate en look up en dere been de new house en
+dere been de old one settin over dere what dey been usin for de kitchen
+den. I won' thinkin bout nothin 'cept what Miss Rogers was gwine say en
+when I been walk in dat gate, dere a big bulldog flew up in my head. I
+stop en look at him en dat dog jump en knock me windin en grabbed my
+foot in his mouth. Yes'um, de sign dere yet whe' he gnawed me. White
+folks tell me I been do wrong. Say, don' never pay no attention to a dog
+en dey won' bother up wid you. But, honey, dat dog had a blue eye en a
+pink eye. Ain' never see a dog in such a fix since I been born. I tell
+you, if you is crooked, white folks will sho straighten you out. Dat dog
+taught me all I is ever wanted to know. Lord, Miss Mary, I been love dat
+woman. De first time I ever see her, she say, 'You ain' got no dress to
+wear to Sunday School, I gwine give you one.' Yes, mam, Miss Mary dress
+me up en de Lord knows, I ain' never quit givin her de praise yet.
+
+"Yes'um, de Yankees, I hear my daddy talk bout when dey come through old
+Massa's plantation en everything what dey do. Say, dere was a old woman
+dat was de cook to de big house en when dem Yankees come dere dat
+mornin, white folks had her down side de cider press just a whippin her.
+Say, de Yankees took de old woman en dressed her up en hitched up a
+buggy en made her set up in dere. Wouldn' let de white folks touch her
+no more neither. Oh, de place was just took wid dem, he say. What dey
+never destroy, dey carried off wid dem. Oh, Lord a mercy, hear talk dere
+was a swarm of dem en while some of dem was in de house a tearin up,
+dere was a lot of dem in de stables takin de horses out. Yes'um, some
+was doin one thing en some another. En Pa tell bout dey had de most
+sense he ever did see. Hitched up a cart en kept de path right straight
+down in de woods en carted de corn up what de white folks been hide down
+dere in de canebrake. Den some went in de garden en dug up a whole lot
+of dresses en clothes. En dere was a lady in de house sick while all dis
+was gwine on. Oh, dey was de worst people dere ever was, Pa say. Took
+all de hams en shoulders out de smokehouse en like I tell you, what dey
+never carried off, dey made a scaffold en burned it up. Lord, have
+mercy, I hopes I ain' gwine never have to meet no Yankees."
+
+  Source: Heddie Davis, colored, age 72, Marion, S. C.
+                 Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Jan., 1938.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  HENRY DAVIS
+  EX-SLAVE 80 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Henry Davis is an old Negro, a bright mulatto, who lives in a two-room
+frame house on the farm of Mr. Amos E. Davis, about two miles southwest
+of Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+In the house with him, are his wife, Rosa, and his grown children,
+Roosevelt, Utopia, and Rose. They are day laborers on the farm. At this
+period, Henry picks about seventy-five pounds of cotton a day. His
+children average one hundred and fifty pounds each. The four together
+are thus enabled to gather about five hundred and twenty-five pounds per
+day, at the rate of sixty-five cents per hundred. This brings to the
+family, a daily support of $3.41. This is seasonal employment, however;
+and, as they are not a provident household, hard times come to Henry and
+his folks in the winter and early summer.
+
+"I was born on de old Richard Winn plantation dat my master, Dr. W. K.
+Turner, owned and lived on. I was born de year befo' him marry Miss
+Lizzie Lemmon, my mistress in slavery time.
+
+"My mother was name Mary and took de name of Davis, 'cause befo' freedom
+come, her was bought by my master, from Dr. Davis, near Monticello.
+
+"I had a good many marsters and mistresses. Miss Minnie marry Dr.
+Scruggs. Miss Anna marry Mr. Dove. Miss Emma marry Mr. Jason Pope. Marse
+Willie K. marry a Miss Carroll up in York, S. C., and Marse Johnnie
+marry Miss Essie Zealy. My brothers and sisters was Minton, Ike, Martha,
+and Isabella.
+
+"Who I marry and all 'bout it? How come you want to know dat? I 'clare!
+You think dat gwine to loosen me up? Well, I marry de 'Rose of Sharon'
+or I calls her dat when I was sparkin' her, though she was a Lemmon. Her
+was name Rose Lemmon. Lots of times she throw dat in my face, 'Rose of
+Sharon' when things go wrong. Then her git uppish and sniff, 'Rose of
+Sharon, my eye! You treats me lak I was a dogwood rose on de hillside or
+worse than dat, lak I was a Jimson weed or a rag weed.'
+
+"My mammy and us chillun live in de yard not far from de kitchen. My
+mammy do de washin' and ironin'. Us chillun did no work. I ride 'round
+most of de time wid de doctor in his buggy and hold de hoss while he
+visit de patients. Just set up in de buggy and wait 'til him git ready
+to go to another place or go home.
+
+"I 'member de Yankees comin' and searchin' de house, takin' off de cows,
+mules, hosses, and burnin' de gin-house and cotton. They say dat was
+General Sherman's orders. They was 'lowed to leave de dwellin' house
+standin', in case of a doctor or preacher.
+
+"Miss Lizzie had a whole lot of chickens. Her always keep de finest
+pullets. She make pies and chicken salad out of de oldest hens. Dat
+February de Yankees got here, she done save up 'bout fifty pullets dat
+was ready to lay in March. A squad of Yankees make us chillun ketch
+every one and you know how they went 'way wid them pullets? They tie two
+on behind, in de rings of de saddle. Then they tie two pullets together
+and hang them on de saddle pommel, one on each side of de hosses neck.
+Dat throw them flankin' de hosses withers. I 'members now them gallopin'
+off, wid them chickens flutterin' and hollerin' whare, whare, whare,
+whare, whare!
+
+"After slavery time, us live on de Turner place nigh onto thirty years
+and then was de time I go to see Rosa and court and marry her. Her folks
+b'long to de Lemmons and they had stayed on at de Lemmon's place. De
+white folks of both plantations 'courage us to have a big weddin'. Her
+white folks give her a trousseau and mine give me a bedstead, cotton
+mattress, and two feather pillows. Dat was a mighty happy day and a
+mighty happy night for de 'Rose of Sharon'. Her tells young niggers
+'bout it to dis day, and I just sets and smokes my pipe and thinks of
+all de days dat am passed and gone and wonder if de nex' world gwine to
+bring us back to youth and strength to 'joy it, as us did when Rose and
+me was young.
+
+"Does I 'members anything 'bout patrollers? 'Deed, I do! Marster didn't
+'ject to his slaves gwine to see women off de place. I hear him say so,
+and I hear him tell more than once dat if he ever hear de patrollers a
+comin' wid blood hounds, to run to de lot and stick his foots in de mud
+and de dogs wouldn't follow him. Lots of run'ways tried it, I heard, and
+it proved a success and I don't blame them dogs neither."
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1655
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  JESSE DAVIS
+  EX-SLAVE 85 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Jesse Davis, one of the fast disappearing landmarks of slavery times,
+lives with his wife and son, in one of the ordinary two-room frame
+houses that dot, with painful monotony, the country farms of white
+landowners. The three attempt to carry on a one-horse farm of forty
+acres, about thirty acres in cotton and the remainder in corn. The
+standard of living is low. Jesse is cheerful, his wife optimistic with
+the expression that the Lord will provide, and their son dutiful and
+hopeful of the harvest. Their home is about ten miles southwest of
+Winnsboro, in the Horeb section of Fairfield County.
+
+"Dere is some difficulty 'bout my age. Nigh as I can place it, I was
+born befo' de Civil War. I 'members 'tendin' to and milkin' de cows, and
+keepin' de calf off, drawin' water out de well, and bringin' in wood to
+make fires. I 'spects I's eighty-five, mountin' up in years.
+
+"I lives on Mr. Eber Mason's place wid one of my chillun, a son name
+Mingo. Us all work on de place; run a farm on shares. I can't do much
+work and can't support myself. It's mighty hard to be 'pendent on others
+for your daily rations, even if them others is your own bone and flesh.
+I'd 'preciate sumpin' to help my son and wife carry on. Dats why I wants
+a pension. Do you 'spect God in His mercy will hear de prayer of dis
+feeble old believer? I don't beg people but de Bible give me a right to
+beg God for my daily bread. De Good Book say: 'Take no consarnment 'bout
+your raiment'. You can see from what I's got on, dat me nor nobody else,
+is much consarned 'bout dis raiment.
+
+"My mammy b'long to de Smiths. My master was Dr. Ira Smith. My mistress
+was him wife, Miss Sarah. Deir chillun was: Marse Gad, Marse Jim, and
+Marse Billie. Marse Jim was de baker of dis town all his life, after de
+way of old-time oven-cookin', 'til Boy bread and Claussen bread wagons
+run him out of business. Him is now on de 'lief roll and livin' in de
+old McCreight house, de oldest house in Winnsboro.
+
+"Dere was my young misses, Miss Lizzie and Miss Lennie. My mammy name
+Sarah, just lak old mistress name Sarah. Her b'long to marster and
+mistress but my pappy no b'long to them. Him b'long to de big bugs, de
+Davis family. Him was name Mingo, and after slavery him and all us take
+de name, de secon' name, Davis, and I's here today, Jesse Davis. See how
+dat work out to de name? Good Book again say: 'Good name better than
+riches; sweeter to de ear than honey-comb to de tongue.'
+
+"You is well 'quainted wid Marse Amos Davis, ain't you? Well, his people
+was pappy's people. I had a brudder name Gabriel, tho' they called him
+Gabe. Another one name Chap; he got kilt while clearin' up a new ground.
+Sister Fannie marry a Ashford nigger. Marse Ira, de doctor, have a
+plantation near Jenkinsville, S. C.
+
+"When de Yankees come thru, they come befo' de main army. They gallop
+right up, jump down and say: 'Hold dese hosses! Open dat smoke-house
+door!' They took what they could carry 'way. 'Bout dat time marster rode
+up from a sick call him been 'tendin' to. Course you know him was a
+doctor. They surround him, take his watch, money, and hoss, and ride
+'way.
+
+"De main army come nex' day, Saturday mornin' 'bout 8 o'clock. They
+spread deir tents and stay and camp 'til Monday mornin'. When they leave
+they carry off all de cows, hogs, mules, and hosses. Then they have us
+ketch de chickens, got them all, 'cept one old hen dat run under de
+house, and they didn't wait to git her. Marster have to go 'way up to
+Union County, where him have kin folks, to git sumpin' to eat.
+
+"My marster was not big rich lak de Davises, de Means, and de Harpers,
+but him have all them people come to see him. Him know a heap of things
+dat they 'preciate. De way to dye cloth was one of dese secrets. Marster
+have a madder bed. Him take de roots of dat madder put them in de sun
+just lak you put out pieces of apples and peaches to make dried fruit.
+When them roots git right dry, him have them ground up fine as
+water-ground meal. He put de fine dust in a pot and boil it. When he
+want red cloth, he just drop de cloth in dat pot and it come out all red
+to suit you. Want it blue, him have a indigo patch for dat.
+
+"I never hear anything 'bout alum dese days. Well, de slaves could take
+peach tree leaves and alum and make yellow cloth and old cedar tops and
+copperas and make tan cloth. Walnut stain and copperas and make any
+cloth brown. Sweet-gum bark and copperas and make any cloth a purple
+color. I 'member goin' wid one into de woods to git barks. One day old
+marster come 'cross a slippery elm tree. Him turn and command me to say
+right fast: 'Long, slim, slick saplin' and when I say long, slim, sick
+slaplin', him 'most kill hisself laughin'. You try dat now! You find it
+more harder to say than you think it is. Him give me a piece of dat bark
+to chew and I run at de mouth lak you see a hoss dat been on de range of
+wild clover all night and slobberin' at da bits.
+
+"Yes sah, I b'longs to de church! My wife and son, Mingo, just us three
+in de house and de whole household jined de Morris Creek Baptist Church.
+What's my favorite song? None better than de one dat I'll h'ist right
+now. Go ahead? I thanks you. Listen:
+
+  'Am I born to die
+  To lay dis body down
+  A charge to keep I have
+  A God to glorify.'
+
+"You lak dat? Yes? You is praisin' me too highly I 'spect, but since you
+lak dat one just listen at dis one; maybe you change your mind, 'cause
+I's gwine to h'ist it a wee bit higher and put more of de spiritual in
+it. Ready? Yes? I stand up dis time.
+
+  'All de medicine you may buy
+  All de doctors you may try
+  Ain't gonna save you from de tomb
+  Some day you got to lay down and die.
+  De blood of de Son can only
+  Save you from de doom!
+  Some day you got to lay down and die.'
+
+"You lak dat one? You just ought to hear my wife, Mingo, and Me, singin'
+dat 'round de fire befo' us go to bed.
+
+"Well, I'll toddle 'long now. Good-bye."
+
+
+
+
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, February 4, 1938
+
+  LIZZIE'S 'SPONSIBILITY
+
+
+  I.
+
+The first scene of "Lizzie's 'Sponsibility" is that of the small, one
+room dwelling place of Lizzie Davis, aged colored woman of Marion, S. C.
+A disorderly, ill-lighted, crudely furnished room, saturated with the
+odor of food. Behind the front door stands a gayly colored iron bed,
+over which is thrown a piece of oilcloth to keep the rain from leaking
+on it. In the center of the room are several little quaint home-made
+stools and two broken rockers, while in one corner sits a roughly
+finished kitchen table, the dumping place of all small articles. Still
+in another corner, almost hidden from sight in the darkness, is the dim
+outline of an old trunk gaping open with worn out clothing, possibly the
+gift of some white person. A big fireplace in one side of the wall not
+only furnishes heat for the little room, but also serves as a cooking
+place for Lizzie to prepare her meals. On its hearth sits a large iron
+kettle, spider, and griddle, relics of an earlier day. The room is dimly
+lighted by the fire and from two small doors, together with a few tiny
+streaks that peep through at various cracks in the walls and top of
+house.
+
+It is about 9 o'clock on a cold, drizzly morning in January, 1938. The
+little two room house, in which Lizzie rents one room for herself,
+displays an appearance of extreme coldness and dilapidation, as a
+visitor approaches the doorway on this particular morning. It is with
+somewhat of an effort that the visitor finally reaches the barred door
+of Lizzie's room, after making a skip here and there to keep from
+falling through the broken places in the little porch and at the same
+time trying to dodge the continual dripping of the rain through numerous
+crevices in the porch roof. Within is the sound of little feet scuffling
+about on the floor, the chatter of tiny children mixed with mumblings
+from Lizzie, and the noise of chairs and stools being roughly shoved
+about on the floor.
+
+A rap on the door brings Lizzie, crippled up since she was twelve years
+of age, hobbling to the door. Taking her walking stick, she lifts the
+latch gently and the door opens slightly. A gray head appears through
+the crack of the door and Lizzie, peeping out from above her tiny rim
+spectacles, immediately recognizes her visitor. She offers her usual
+cheerful greeting and begins hastily to push the large wooden tubs from
+the door to make room for her visitor to enter, though it is with
+unusual hesitancy that she invites her guest to come in on this
+occasion.
+
+Lizzie--Come in, Miss Davis. I feelin right smart dis mornin. How you
+been keepin yourself? Miss Davis, I regrets you have to find things so
+nasty up in here dis mornin, but all dis rainy weather got me obliged to
+keep dese old tubs settin all bout de floor here to try en catch up de
+water what drips through dem holes up dere. See, you twist your head up
+dat way en you can tell daylight through all dem cracks. Dat how I know
+when it bright enough to start to stir myself on a mornin.
+
+Yes'um, I tell Miss Heddie here de other day dat I had promise you I was
+gwine study up some of dem old time songs to give you de next time you
+come back. Miss Heddie, she lookin to a right sharp age, I say. Yes'um,
+she been here a time, honey. I tell her to be gettin her dogs together
+cause I was sho gwine point her out to you de next time I see you.
+
+I tell you, Miss Davis, I got a 'sponsibility put on me here to look
+after all dese chillun. Yes'um, it sho a 'sponsibility cause I think
+dere five of dem dere, en it de truth in de Lord sight, dey has me
+settin up so straight to keep a eye on dem dat I can' never settle my
+mind on nothin. Dey won' let me keep nothin clean. Ain' no use to scrub
+none, I say. You see, cripple up like I is, I ain' able to get no work
+off nowhe' en I keeps dem while dey parents work out. Dey mammas have a
+job to cook out en dey brings dem here bout 6 o'clock in de mornin for
+me to see after till dey get home in de afternoon. Cose dey helps me
+along, but it takes what little dey give me to keep dem chillun warm
+cause I has to try en keep a fire gwine, dey be so little. Dere Bertha
+Lee en Joseph, dey start gwine to school dis year en I has to see dey
+gets fix decent en march dem off to school every mornin. Dem other three
+dere, dey name: Possum en June en Alfred. Ain' but just one girl en
+dat--
+
+(Lizzie's attention turns to June, who comes in crying from the back
+yard, where all the children went to play during Lizzie's conversation
+with her visitor).
+
+Lizzie--What de matter wid you, June?
+
+June--Aun' Izzie, Possum knock me wid de ax.
+
+Lizzie--Great King! What a peculiar thing to hit you wid. How-come he to
+do dat?
+
+June--He was bustin up dem stick out dere side de wood pile.
+
+Lizzie--Oh, well, you just go en butt up on de ax. Dat ain' no fault of
+he own den. Clean up dat face en gwine on way from here.
+
+(June, crying to himself, remains seated on the little stool).
+
+Lizzie--Let me see now, Miss Davis, I tryin to get some of dem old time
+songs together to turn for you what you been axin me bout de other time
+you come here. Yes'um, I tryin to blow my dogs--
+
+(Possum enters the room).
+
+Possum--Aun' Izzie, I was bustin up dem splinters dat my daddy brung for
+you to cook wid en June come en set right under de ax.
+
+Lizzie--Um-huh, ain' I tell you so? Whe' de ax, Possum? Fetch it here en
+put it in de corner. Ain' none of you had no business wid dat ax nohow.
+Ain' I tell you to mind your way round dat ax?
+
+(Possum runs back out in the yard).
+
+Lizzie--Like I tellin you, Miss Davis, if de people had a song in de old
+days, dey would put it down on a long strip called a ballad, but honey,
+I been through de hackles en I can' think of nothin like I used to
+could. Is anybody sing dis one for you, Miss Davis? It a old one, too,
+cause I used to hear--
+
+(Alfred comes in to tell his tale).
+
+Alfred--Aun' Izzie, June set on Possum's pile of splinters dat he was
+makin en Possum let de ax fall right on June's head.
+
+Lizzie--Dey is cases, Miss Davis. I tellin you, dese chillun just gets
+everything off my mind. Most makes me forget to eat sometimes. Dere Miss
+Julia Woodberry, poor creature, she been down mighty sick en I ain' been
+able to go en see bout her no time. Don' know what ailin her cause I
+don' gets bout nowhe' much. No, mam, dese chillun don' have no manners
+to go visitin en I can' left dem here widout nobody to mind bout dat dey
+don' run--
+
+Joseph--Aun' Izzie, I ain' gwine wear no coat to school dis mornin.
+
+Lizzie--Boy, is you crazy? What de matter wid you, ain' you know de
+ground been white wid Jack Frost dis mornin? En you clean up dat nose
+fore you get dere to school, too. You ain' say your ma send you here
+widout no pocket rag to wipe your nose wid? You ma, she know better den
+to 'spect me to hunt rags for you. Come here en let me fasten up dat
+coat round de neck. You look like a turkey buzzard wid it gapin open
+dat way. Whe' Bertha Lee? It time both you been in dat road gwine to
+school dere.
+
+(Bertha Lee and Joseph go out the door to leave for school).
+
+Lizzie--Lord a mercy, Miss Davis, my mind just a windin. How dat song
+turn what I had for you?
+
+  One for Paul,
+  En one for Sidas--
+
+Lizzie--Joseph, how-come you ain' tell dese chillun good-bye?
+
+Joseph--Good-bye Possum, good-bye June, good-bye Alfred.
+
+Possum, June, Alfred--Good-bye Joseph.
+
+Lizzie--Is you got dat one now, Miss Davis? What de next? Great
+Jeruselum! Dem chillun done carry dat tune way wid dem. I can' turn dat
+one to save my neck. Just can' come to de turn table as de old man would
+say. (12 o'clock mill whistle blows, time teller for many colored people
+of the community). Lord a mercy, what dat whistle say? It done come 12
+o'clock en dat pot ain' thought bout to kick up none yet. I tell you,
+honey, it sho a 'sponsibility I got put on me here to cook for all dese
+chillun en see dey ration is cook mighty done, too, so as dey won' be
+gwine round gruntin wid dey belly hurtin all de evenin.
+
+(Lizzie begins to stir up the fire to make the pot boil and her visitor
+decides to return later to hear the songs).
+
+  Date, February 7, 1938
+
+
+II
+
+It is a damp, chilly mornin about three weeks later, when Lizzie's
+visitor returns to hear her sing old time songs. June, Bertha Lee, and
+Alfred are playing in the street before the little house.
+
+Visitor--Is Aun' Lizzie at home?
+
+June, Alfred, Bertha Lee--Yes'um, she in dere. She in de house.
+
+Visitor--You children better mind how you run about in all this damp
+weather, it might make you sick.
+
+June--Possum's got de chicken pox.
+
+Alfred--Possum's got de chicken pox.
+
+June--Me sick, too.
+
+Bertha Lee--I got a cold.
+
+Alfred--I sick, too.
+
+Visitor--Poor little Possum. Is he sick much?
+
+Alfred--Yes'um, he stay right in dat room dere. (Room next to Lizzie's
+room with a separate front door).
+
+Bertha Lee--He mamma had de chicken pox first en den Possum, he took
+down wid it.
+
+June--Dere he now! Dere Possum! (Possum appears from around the corner
+of the house with both hands full of cold fish).
+
+(Alfred goes to Lizzie's door to tell her that she has a visitor)
+
+Alfred--Aun' Izzie, somebody out dere wanna see you.
+
+Lizzie--Holy Moses! Who dat out dere? Boy, you ain' tellin me no story,
+is you? Mind you now, you tell me a story en I'll whip de grease out
+you.
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, ain' nobody but Miss Davis out dere.
+
+(Lizzie hobbles to the door on her stick).
+
+Lizzie--How you is, Miss Davis? I ain' much to speak bout dis mornin. I
+tell you de truth, Miss Davis, dese chillun keeps me so worried up dat I
+don' know whe' half my knowin gone, I say. Great Lord a mercy, dere
+Possum out dere in de air now en he been puny, too.
+
+Visitor--The children tell me Possum has the chicken pox.
+
+Lizzie--No'um, he ain' got no chicken pox, Miss Davis. Dey thought he
+had it cause he mamma been ailin dat way, but I don' see nothin de
+matter wid him 'cept what wrong wid he mouth. Possum, stand back dere
+way from Miss Davis, I say. Yes'um, he been sorta puny like dis here
+last week. He mamma must been feed him too much en broke he mouth out
+dat--
+
+June--Miss Davis, I know how to spell my name.
+
+Bertha Lee--I know how to spell my name, too. Me likes to go to school.
+
+Visitor--Oh, I think it is nice to like to go to school. What do you do
+at school?
+
+June--Pull off your hat.
+
+Bertha Lee--Us writes.
+
+Visitor--Lizzie, how about those old time songs you promised to study up
+for me? You ought to have a mind running over with them by this time.
+
+Lizzie--Lord, Lord, honey, I had study up a heap of dem old tunes here
+de other day, but I tellin you de truth, Miss Davis, dese chillun got me
+so crazy till nothin won stick--
+
+(Willie, age 10, comes over to play with the children and begins to
+whistle.).
+
+Lizzie--Willie, ain' you know it ill manners to whistle in anybody
+house? Dere now, it impolite to walk by anybody house whistlin, too. You
+is too big a boy for dat. Ain' gwine stand for you learnin dese chillun
+no such manners for me to beat it out dem. No, boy, mind yourself way
+from here now, I got to hunt up dat tune for Miss Davis. Yes'um, I got
+one of dem old tune poppin now. Let me see--Great Happy! Dat pot done
+gwine out all my sparks. (Lizzie rushes in the house to look after a pot
+that she hears boilin over on the fire).
+
+June--Bertha Lee, de lady don' know whe' us sleeps, do she?
+
+Bertha Lee--Dere us house over dere.
+
+(Bertha Lee gets up to point the house out and June immediately slides
+into her seat on the bench next to the visitor).
+
+Bertha Lee--Move way, June.
+
+June--No, dis place whe' I been.
+
+Bertha Lee--June, go further, I say.
+
+June--No, Bertha Lee, dis whe' I been.
+
+Bertha Lee--No, go further. (June holds his place) I go tell Aun' Izzie
+den.
+
+Visitor--Tell Lizzie I'm waitin to hear that tune she promised to sing.
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, June settin in my place.
+
+Lizzie--Fetch yourself on back out dere now, Bertha Lee, en settle your
+own scrap. Ain' you shame of yourself en you bigger den June, too? Go
+way from here, I say. I ain' got no time to monkey up wid you. I got to
+get dese collards boilin hard, else dey ain' gwine get done time you
+chillun start puffin for your dinner. Go way, I tell you. Miss Davis, I
+comin toreckly.
+
+(Bertha Lee returns to the porch quietly and takes her place on the
+opposite side of the visitor, while June clings to his place).
+
+June--Miss Davis, does you know Mr. Rembert?
+
+Visitor--Is he your father?
+
+Bertha Lee and June--No, he ain' us daddy.
+
+June--Mr. Rembert, he bought me everything I got. He shoe horses. Don'
+you know him now?
+
+Bertha Lee--He bought June's sweater, but dem my overalls he got on.
+
+June--Dem dere pretty buttons you got on you, Miss Davis.
+
+Bertha Lee--Sho is, en dem little chain dere.
+
+June--Me got a sweater just like her coat.
+
+Bertha Lee--Ain' just like it.
+
+June--It most like it.
+
+Bertha Lee--No, it ain' cause dis here wool.
+
+(Lizzie returns to the porch and sits on a little stool near her door).
+
+Lizzie--Lord, Miss Davis, dat tune done left me. Now, de next time dat I
+get a tune in my mind. I gwine sho get somebody to place it for me. It
+de Lord truth, my mind gwine just so wid so much of chillun worryations
+till--
+
+June--Me can sing.
+
+Possum--Aun' Izzie, I ain' got nothin to eat.
+
+(Lizzie returns to her room again to stir up the fire and get Possum
+some bread).
+
+Bertha Lee--Sing den, June.
+
+June--Un-uh, I can'. Aun' Izzie might hear me.
+
+Bertha Lee--I gwine sing den.
+
+June--
+
+  "I sees de lighthouse--amen,
+  I sees de lighthouse--amen,
+  I sees de lighthouse--amen."
+
+(Lizzie and Possum return to porch. Possum has three muffins).
+
+Lizzie--Clean up your nose dere, Alfred. Miss Davis, I ready. Sho got a
+mind to turn dat tune dis----
+
+Alfred--Possum wouldn' fetch me no bread, Aun' Izzie.
+
+Lizzie--Dere dey go again, Miss Davis. No, you can' have none of
+Possum's bread. Gwine on in dere en catch you a piece out your own pan.
+You eat up Possum's bread en den he'll be de one howlin bout he ain' got
+none.
+
+(Alfred goes in the room and comes back with a biscuit).
+
+Lizzie--I pretty certain I ready now, Miss Davis. Let dem all get dey
+belly full en den dey head won' be turnin so sharp. Dat how-come I
+tries--
+
+Possum--Aun' Izzie, Alfred eatin June's bread.
+
+Lizzie--Alfred, look here, boy, you know dat ain' none of your bread.
+You sho gwine get a lickin for dat. (Lizzie slaps him). Your ma, she
+ain' never left nothin but corn hoecake in your pan since you been born
+en you know dat, too. Dem chillun carries me in de clock sometimes, Miss
+Davis. Dis one en dat one callin me en de Lord help me, I forgets what I
+doin--Clean up dat nose dere, boy.
+
+June--My nose clean.
+
+Lizzie--Possum know I talkin to him. Get on in dere en tell Miss Mammie
+to give you a pocket rag, Possum. (Miss Mammie is Possum's aunt who came
+to spend the day with them).
+
+Bertha Lee--
+
+  "Peter Rabbit, Ha! Ha! Ha!
+  Make Your Ears Go, Flop! Flop! Flop!"
+
+Lizzie--I has to ax you to bear wid me, Miss Davis. I sorry you come
+here on a dead shot en ain' gettin no birds. Lord knows, I tryin to get
+my mind--
+
+June--Oo, Aun' Izzie, Joseph been cuttin out Willie's book.
+
+(Lizzie's attention is attracted to Willie, who looks worried about his
+torn book.)
+
+Lizzie--Great mercy, boy, you ought to have a pain in de chest. Look,
+you settin dere wid your bosom wide open. Fasten up your neck dere, I
+say.--Possum, come here, is you do like I tell you? Is you ax Miss
+Mammie for somethin to clean up dat nose wid?
+
+Possum--Yes'um.
+
+Lizzie--Look out now, I'll whip you for tellin a story. Whe' de rag? No,
+you ain' ax her neither. Gwine on en clean up dat nose fore I wear you
+out.
+
+(Possum goes around corner of house).
+
+Lizzie--Help me Lord not to forget it dis time. I sho got dat tune----
+
+June--Aun' Izzie, Aun' Izzie, Possum fall in de tub of water what settin
+under de pump.
+
+(Possum appears from around the corner of the house just at that moment
+drenched and almost frozen).
+
+Lizzie--Great Lord a mercy! Possum, you looks like a drowned possum sho
+enough. Why ain' you do like I tell you to do? You know I don' never
+allow you chillun ramblin round dat pump tub no time. Ain' nobody want
+to drink out no tub you wash your snotty nose in. Fetch yourself in dere
+to de fire en dry yourself fore you is catch a death of cold. Gwine on,
+boy. Don' stand dere en watch me like a frizzle chicken. Dere Mr. John
+Fortune comin now. I gwine tell him to catch Possum en cook him up.
+
+Possum--I gwine run.
+
+Lizzie--You say you gwine run?
+
+Possum--No'um, I ain' say I gwine run.
+
+Lizzie--Mind you now, Possum, you know what I tell you bout a
+story-teller.
+
+Mammie--Miss Lizzie, I just don' believe he know right from wrong.
+
+Lizzie--Well, I gwine learn him den. Ain' nothin I despises worser den a
+story-teller. (Lizzie slaps Possum on the shoulder several times and
+sends him in the house to dry, shivering from both cold and fear.).
+
+Lizzie--Miss Davis, Mr. John Fortune helps me out wonderfully wid dese
+chillun. Say, when dey bad, he gwine cook dem up en eat dem. Yes, mam, I
+tellin de truth, honey, dese chillun keeps me settin here listenin wid
+all my ears en lookin wid all my eyes, but dey is right sorta
+entertainin like. Yes'um, dey got so much of sense till dey done took
+what little I is had.
+
+(Alfred comes running in and leans up on Lizzie).
+
+Lizzie--Clean up dat snotty nose, Alfred. You ought to been name Snotty
+wid your mouth all de time lookin like you ain' hear tell of no pocket
+rag. Move way from dere, June. Don' blow your nose settin side Miss
+Davis.
+
+  Date, February 10, 1938
+
+
+III
+
+It is three days later. Lizzie is sitting on her little porch enjoying
+the warm sunshine of a bright February day. The children have gone just
+across the street to play on the sidewalk and while Lizzie keeps a
+watchful eye on them, she is trying once more to call back to her mind
+some of the old time songs that she used to sing in her early days. Her
+visitor sits on a bench nearby ready to make notes of these old songs as
+she sings them. Lizzie's attention is not only distracted by the
+children at intervals but also by different ones of her friends
+constantly passing along the street in front of the small home.
+
+Lizzie--Lord, Miss Davis, look like everything a hustlin dis mornin.
+Yes'um, dis here Monday mornin en everybody is a bustlin gwine to see
+bout dey business. Seems like everything just gwine on, just gwine on. I
+tell you de truth, Miss Davis, I studied so hard bout dem songs de other
+night, I beg de Massa to show me de light en he hop me to recollect dis
+one for you. See, when you gets to de age I is, you is foolish--
+
+(Joseph runs across the street to tell Lizzie something).
+
+Joseph--Aun' Izzie, Possum teachin June to hit Jerry.
+
+Lizzie--Uh-huh, I gwine sho beat him, too. (Lizzie turns to her visitor)
+Possum, he teachin June to knock dat little one wid de speckle coat on.
+
+Visitor--Is he another child that you are taking care of?
+
+Lizzie--No'um, he grandma raise him en de poor little creature, he don'
+have nobody to play wid. Look like nobody don' care when he come or whe'
+he go. I say, I tries to collect mine up en take care of dem cause it
+dis way, if you don' take time en learn chillun, dey old en dey ain'
+old; dey fool en dey ain' fool. Yes'um, I tryin to drill dem, Miss
+Davis, but it does take time en a little whip, too. Has to punish dem
+right smart sometimes. I tellin you, dem chillun sho a 'sponsibility.
+Dem what put all dem gray hair up dere on my topknot. I tell dis one en
+dat one to set to a certain place till I say to get up en den I'll get
+my studyin on somethin else en de child, he'll be out yonder--
+
+(Heddie Davis, age 72, a neighbor of Lizzies, comes over to join in the
+conversation).
+
+Lizzie--Here come de hoss (horse). Come in, Miss Heddie. Miss Davis
+wants us to sing one of dem old back tunes dis mornin.
+
+Heddie--Well, I is studied up one tune what I been hear de old people
+sing when I wasn' nothin much more den a puppy--Lord a mercy, Miss
+Lizzie, dere dem people comin from de trial. Look, dere dey fetchin dat
+girl to Dr. Graham now. En my Lord, got de poor child's head all wrapped
+up dat way. Dat man, he ought to have he head plucked. He know better
+den to cut dat child so close de senses. Don' know what de matter wid de
+people nohow.
+
+Lizzie--Ain' nothin but de devil, Miss--
+
+(Boy, about 8 years old, comes across the street and hands Lizzie a
+bundle).
+
+Pickle--Miss Lizzie, ma say dere your sewin.
+
+Lizzie--Thank you, son, thank you a thousand times again. Tell your
+mamma de old hen a scratchin bout out dere in de yard now huntin de nest
+en ain' gwine be no long time fore I can be catchin her a chicken to put
+in de pot. Yes, Lord, I got to start savin dem egg dis very day for de
+settin. (Lizzie turns to her visitor on the porch and continues her
+conversation). Miss Rosa, she does do all my sewin for me en I generally
+gives her eggs for her kindness. I sorry dere so much of huntin egg de
+same day.
+
+(Little boy, Pickle, looks disappointed and continues to hang around).
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, sing somethin.
+
+Lizzie--You want me to sing so bad, sugar, en I ain' know nothin
+neither. Heddie, turn me one.
+
+Heddie--Gwine on en spill dat one yourself what you been tell me bout de
+other mornin en quit your pickin on me.
+
+Lizzie--Well, I tryin to get myself together, but dere so much of
+travelin en so much of chillun, I can' collect--
+
+Alfred--Aun' Izzie, can I go to whe' Jerry gone?
+
+Lizzie--No, boy, you know I ain' got no mind to let you go runnin off
+dat way. (Lizzie calls to Mammie in the room). Mammie, look dere to de
+clock. I gettin in a fidget to get some of dese chillun way from here.
+
+(Pickle still hangs around).
+
+Lizzie--Joseph, come here.
+
+Joseph--Un-uh.
+
+Lizzie--Boy, don' you grunt at me dat way. Come here, I say. Go dere in
+de chicken house en hunt dat one egg en give it to Pickle to carry to he
+mamma.--Got to scatter dese chillun way from here--
+
+Joseph--Here de egg, Aun' Izzie.
+
+Lizzie--Fetch it dere to Pickle den. Boy, tell your mamma I sorry I ain'
+had no egg to send her 'cept just dat one nest egg. Tell her, when she
+buss dat egg, she better look right sharp en see is de hen ain' got it
+noways addle like cause--
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, how my nose is?
+
+Lizzie--Look bad. Gwine on in dere en clean your face up. I know you
+ain' gwine to school wid all dem crumbs stuck bout on your mouth.
+Joseph, gwine on in de house dere en put you on some more clothes. Gwine
+on in dere, I say. Don' stand dere on de street en strip.
+
+Heddie--No, boy, don' pull off in no public.
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, I gwine carry my bread to school wid me.
+
+Lizzie--Hunt you a paper den. You can' go dere to school wid no handful
+of bread makin all dem chillun start mouthin round you. Joseph, get me a
+paper to put dis here child's bread in.
+
+Joseph--Here, Bertha Lee. Here de paper.
+
+Lizzie--Lord, Miss Davis, it a time. I tell you de truth, honey, dis
+here 'sponsibility got me tied both hand en foot. Ain' no rest nowhe'. I
+hates it you come here en ain' gettin nothin what you been aimin to
+catch. I gwine be ready toreckly though. Let me get dese chillun in de
+road en dem songs gwine start travelin out my head faster den lightnin--
+
+Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, make Joseph come on.
+
+Lizzie--Joseph, get in dat road dere side Bertha Lee. Now, you chillun
+make your tracks dere to school straight as you can go en if you stop
+dere to dat lady house en get a pecan, I gwine whip you hard as I can.
+
+Joseph and Bertha Lee--Good-bye Possum, good-bye June, good-bye Alfred.
+
+Possum, June, Alfred--Good-bye Joseph, good-bye Bertha Lee.
+
+Lizzie--Here dat tune come buzzin now, Miss Davis. Is you got dis one?
+
+
+  Sunday Mornin Band!
+
+  "Oh, my sister,
+  How you walk on de cross?
+  Sunday mornin band!
+  Oh, your feet might slip
+  En your soul get lost.
+  Sunday mornin band!
+  Oh, what band,
+  Oh, what band,
+  Do you belong?
+  What band! What band!
+  Sunday mornin band!"
+
+Heddie--Sis, you is done took de one I been how. I been expectin you was
+comin out wid one of dem old time reels you used to be a singin en a
+jiggin bout all de time.
+
+Lizzie--Oh, I been know a heap of dem reels. Hoped sing dem behind de
+old folks back many a day cause us chillun wasn' never allowed to sing
+reels in dem days. See, old back people was more religious den dey is
+now. Yes, mam, dey been know what spell somethin in dat day en time.
+When dey would speak den, dey meant somethin, I tell you. People does
+just go through de motion dese days en don' have no mind to mean what
+dey talk. No, child, us didn' dar'sen to let us parents hear us sing no
+reels den. What dem old people didn' quarrel out us, dey whip out us. My
+father never wouldn' let we chillun go to no frolics, but us would
+listen from de house en catch what us could. I used to could turn a heap
+of dem reels, too, but he was so tight on us till everything bout left
+me. Lord, Heddie, give me a thought. You is de jiggin hoss. Hope me out,
+Heddie, hope me out.
+
+(Heddie begins song and Lizzie joins in and finishes it).
+
+  "The blackest nigger I ever did see,
+  He come a runnin down from Tennessee,
+  His eye was red en his gum was blue,
+  En God a mighty struck him,
+  En his shirt tail flew.
+  Meet me at de crossroads,
+  For I'm gwine join de band.
+  Um-huh! Um-huh! Um-huh!"
+
+Lizzie--Great Lord a mercy, Miss Davis, dem kind of tune, dem sinful en
+wicked songs, dey what I used to turn fore I been big enough to know
+what been in dem. No, honey, I thank de good Lord to point me way from
+all dat foolishness en wickedness en I ain' gwine back to it neither.
+
+  "Lord, I know dat my time ain' long,
+  Oh, de bells keep a ringin,
+  Somebody is a dying,
+  Lord, I know dat my time ain' long.
+    (Repeat three times)
+  Lord, I know dat my time ain' long,
+  Oh, de hammer keep a knockin,
+  Keep a knockin on somebody coffin,
+  Lord, I know dat my time ain' long."
+    (Repeat three times).
+
+Lizzie--Lord, I sho know my time ain' long. De Lord say de way of de
+righteous prevaileth to eternal life en I know I right, people. Lord, I
+know I right. 'Sponsibility or no 'sponsibility, Lord, I seekin de
+Kingdom.
+
+  Source: Lizzie Davis, colored, 70-80 years, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Marion, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, December 13, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  LIZZIE DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, Age 70 to 80
+
+
+"No, mam, I couldn' exactly tell you how old I is cause my father, he
+been dead over 20 years en when us had a burnin out dere to Georgetown,
+Pa's Bible was destroyed den. Cose I don' remember myself, say, slavery
+time, but I can tell dat what I is hear de olden people talk bout been
+gwine on in dat day en time. No, mam, I want to suggest to you de best I
+can cause I might have to go back up yonder en tell it to be justified
+some of dese days."
+
+"Oh, I been know your father en your grandfather en all of dem. Bless
+mercy, child, I don' want to tell you nothin, but what to please you.
+Lord, I glad to see your face. It look so lovin en pleasin, just so as I
+is always know you. Look like dere not a wave of trouble is ever roll
+'cross your peaceful bosom."
+
+"Now, like I speak to you, I don' know rightly bout my age, but I can
+tell you when dat shake come here, I been a missie girl. Oh, my Lord, I
+been just as proud en crazy in dem days. Wasn' thinkin nothin bout dat
+dese dark days was headin here. Yes, mam, I is always been afflicted
+ever since I been twelve years old, so dey tell me. You see, dat muscle
+right back dere in my foot, it grow crooked just like a hook. De doctor,
+he say dat if dey had kept me movin bout, it wouldn' been grow dat way.
+But my poor old mammy, she die while us was livin down dere to old man
+Foster Brown's plantation en dere won' no other hand gwine trouble dey
+way no time to lift me up. Oh, my mammy, she been name Katie Brown cause
+my parents, dey belonged to de old man Foster Brown in dey slavery day.
+Dat how-come I been raise up a country child dere on Mr. Brown's
+plantation. Another thing, like as you might be a noticin, I ain' never
+been married neither. No, mam, I ain' never been married cause I is
+always been use a stick in walkin in my early days en never didn' nobody
+want me. Yes, mam, I know I every bit of 70 or gwine on 80 years old to
+my mind en I think it a blessin de Lord preserve me dis long to de
+world. Cose I often wonders why de good Massa keep me here en take dem
+what able to work for demselves."
+
+"Yes, honey, wid God harness on me, I come here to dis town a grown
+woman to live en I been livin right here by myself in dis same house
+near bout 20 years. Cose dere a little 12-year-old country girl dat
+stays here wid me while de school be gwine on so as to get some learnin.
+Yes'um, I pays $2.00 every month for dis here room en it ain' worth
+nothin to speak bout. Pap Scott's daughter stay in dat other room over
+dere. No, mam, dere ain' but just dese two rooms to de house. You, see,
+my buildin does leak en I has a big time some of dese days. See here,
+child, I has dis piece of oilcloth cross my bed en when it rains on a
+night, I sleeps in dat chair over dere en lets it drop on de oilcloth.
+Den when it comes a storm, my Lord, dere such a racket! I be settin here
+lookin for dat top up dere to be tumblin down on me de next crack en
+seems like it does give me such a misery in my head. Yes, mam, dat
+misery does strike me every time I hear tell bout dere a darkness in de
+cloud."
+
+"Well, drawed up as I is, I ain' able to get no work worth much to speak
+bout dese days. It dis way, child, don' nobody like to see no old ugly
+crooked up creature like me round bout whe' dey be no time. Cose I sets
+here en does a washin now en den whe' de people gets push up, but don'
+get no regular work. Now, dem people over dere, I does dey washin
+mostly, but dey don' never be noways particular en stylish like en I
+don' have nothin much to worry wid. See, de lady, she don' go bout
+nowhe' much."
+
+"Oh, Lord, dere my stove right dere, I say. Yes, mam, I cooks right here
+in de fireplace all de time. I got dat pot on dere wid some turnips a
+boilin now en it gettin on bout time I be mixin up dat bread, too, fore
+dat child be comin home from school hungry as a louse. I say, I got dis
+here old black iron spider en dis here iron griddle, too, what I does my
+bakin on cause you see, I come from way back yonder. Dem what de olden
+people used to cook on fore stoves ever been come here. Yes, mam, de
+spider got three legs dat it sets on en de griddle, dat what I makes
+dese little thin kind of hoecake on. See, when I wants to bake in de
+spider, I heaps my coals up in a pile dat way so as to set de spider on
+dem en pours de batter in de spider en puts de lid on. Den I rakes me up
+another batch of coals en covers de lid over wid dem. Do dat to make it
+get done on de top. Yes, mam, dat de kind of a spider dat de people
+used to cook dey cake in. Now, when I has a mind to cook some turnips or
+some collards, I makes dis here boil bread. Honey, dat somethin to talk
+bout eatin wid dem turnips. Ain' no trouble to mind it neither. First, I
+just washes my hands right clean like en takes en mixes up my meal en
+water together wid my hand till I gets a right stiff dough. Den I
+pinches off a piece de dough bout big as a goose egg en flattens it out
+wid my hand en drops it in de pot wid de greens. Calls dat boil
+dumplings. I think bout I got a mind dat I gwine cook some of dem in dat
+turnip pot directly, too. No, mam, I don' never eat dinner till it come
+bout time for de little girl to be expectin to be from school. Oh, my
+blessed, dem olden people sho know how to cook in dem days. Never didn'
+hear speak bout de cookin upsettin de people in dat day en time like it
+sets de people in a misery dese days. Dat how-come, I say, I ain' noways
+ailin in de inside cause it be dat I lives de olden way. Yes, child, de
+slavery people sho had de hand to cook. Dere ain' never been nothin cook
+nowhe' dat could satisfy a cravin like dat ash cake dat de people used
+to cook way back dere, I say. Oh, dey would mix up a batter just like
+dey was gwine make a hoecake en wrap it all up in oak leaves or a piece
+of dis here heavy brown paper en lay it in de hot ashes. Den dey would
+rake some more hot ashes all over de top of it. Yes'um, de dampness out
+de hoecake would keep de wrappin wet en when it would get done, de paper
+would peel right off it. I tell you, honey, I mighty glad I been come
+along in dat day en time. Mighty thankful I been a child of de olden
+ways."
+
+"Yes, child, de people what been raise de slavery way, dey been have a
+heap of curious notions en some of dem was good, I say. Yes, mam, dere
+one sign dat I remembers bout en I follows dat up right sharp dese days.
+I sho watches dat closely. Say, somebody have a mouthful of rations en
+sneeze, it a sign of death. I finds dat to be very true to speak bout.
+Yes'um, I notices dat a good one, Miss Davis."
+
+"Den I got another one comin. Always say, when you see bout a dozen
+buzzards moesin (flying) round a house en den dey break off en make a
+straight shoot for a graveyard, dere somebody out dat house gwine be
+bury dere soon. Cose dat what I hear talk bout, but I ain' watched dat
+so much."
+
+"No, mam, dat ain' half de signs what de olden people used to have cause
+dat all what dey know to tell dem what to do en what was gwine happen.
+Dem what was wise, dey followed dem signs closely, too. Yes, you come
+back another time, child, en I'll see can I scratch up a heap of dem
+other sign to tell you. When I gets to talkin to you bout old times, my
+mind, it just gets to wanderin over dem old fields whe' I run bout as a
+little small child en I can' half remember nothin to speak to you bout."
+
+  Source: Lizzie Davis, colored, Marion, S. C.--Age 70 to 80.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Code No.
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, December 21, 1937
+  No. Words ----
+  Reduced from ---- words
+  Rewritten by ----
+
+  LIZZIE DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, Age ----
+
+
+"My parents, dey was sho raise in de South. Been come up on de old man
+Foster Brown's plantation. Ain' you know whe' Mr. Foster Brown used to
+live? Yes, mam, down dere in dat grove of pecans dat you see settin side
+de road, when you be gwine down next to Centenary. I remember, I hear my
+father tell bout dat his mammy was sold right here to dis courthouse, on
+dat big public square up dere, en say dat de man set her up in de wagon
+en took her to Georgetown wid him. Sold her right dere on de block. Oh,
+I hear dem talkin bout de sellin block plenty times. Pa say, when he see
+dem carry his mammy off from dere, it make he heart swell in his breast.
+
+"Yes'um, I hear my father talk bout how dey would shoot de great big
+bomb guns in slavery time. Seems like, he say dat de shootin fuss been
+come from Fort Sumter. Oh, my Lord, I hear talk dat de people could hear
+dem guns roarin all bout dis here country. I know dat word been true
+cause I hear my parents en de olden people speak bout dat right dere
+fore we chillun. Say, when dey would feel dat rumblin noise, de people
+would be so scared. Didn' know what was gwine happen. Cose I speak bout
+what I catch cause de olden people never didn' allow dey chillun to set
+en hear dem talk no time. No, mam, de olden people was mighty careful of
+de words dey let slip dey lips.
+
+"Oh, we chillun would have de most fun dere ever was romancin (roaming)
+dem woods in dat day en time. I used to think it was de nicest thing dat
+I been know bout to go down in de woods side one of dem shady branch en
+get a cup of right cool water to drink out de stream. I tell you, I
+thought dat was de sweetest water I is ever swallowed. Den we chillun
+used to go out in de woods wid de crowd en get dese big oak leaves en
+hickory leaves en make hats. Would use dese here long pine needles en
+thorns for de pins dat we would pick up somewhe' dere in de woods. En we
+would dress de hats wid all kind of wild flowers en moss dat we been
+find scatter bout in de woods, too. Oh, yes'um, we thought dey was de
+prettiest kind of bonnets. Den we would get some of dese green saplin
+out de woods often times to make us a ridin horse wid en would cut down
+a good size pine another time en make a flyin mare to ride on. Yes, mam,
+dat what we would call it. Well, when we would have a mind to make one
+of dem flyin mare, we chillun would slip a ax to de woods wid us en chop
+down a nice little pine tree, so as dere would be a good big stump left
+in de ground. Den we would chisel de top of de stump down all round de
+edges till we had us a right sharp peg settin up in de middle of de
+stump. After dat was fixed, we would cut us another pole a little bit
+smaller den dat one en bore a hole in de middle of it to make it set
+down on dat peg. Oh, my Lord, one of us chillun would get on dis end en
+dere another one would get on de other end en us chillun would give dem
+a shove dat would send dem flyin round fast as I could say
+mighty-me-a-life. My blessed a mercy, child, it would most bout knock de
+sense out dem what been on dere. Yes, mam, everybody would be crazy to
+ride on de flyin mare. All de neighbor's chillun would gather up en go
+in de woods en jump en shout bout which one turn come to ride next. I
+tellin you, dem was big pleasures us had in dat day en time en dey never
+cost nobody nothin neither."
+
+"Well, Mr. Brown, he was mighty good to his colored people, so I hear my
+parents say. Would allow all his niggers to go to de white people church
+to preachin every Sunday, Cose my father, he was de carriage driver en
+he would have task to drive de white folks to church on a Sunday.
+Yes'um, dem what been belong to Mr. Brown, dey had dey own benches to
+set on right up dere in de gallery to de white people church, but I hear
+talk dat some of dem other white people round bout dere never wouldn'
+let dey colored people see inside dey church no time. Lord, I talk bout
+how de people bless wid privilege to go to church like dey want to in
+dis day en time en don' have de mind to serve de Lord like dey ought to
+no time. Cose dere a man comes here every Sunday mornin in a car en
+takes me out to church. Ain' no kin to me neither. He late sometimes en
+de preacher be bout out wid de sermon, but I goes anyhow en gets all I
+can. Look like de Lord bless me somehow, cripple up as I is, I say."
+
+"De shake! Oh, I remember it well cause I been a grown girl den.
+Everybody thought it was de Jedgment en all de people was runnin out en
+a hollerin. I thought it was de last myself en I livin here to tell de
+people, I was sho scared. I been out to de well bout 12 o'clock de next
+day en I could see de water in de well just a quiverin. Lord, Lord, dat
+water tremble bout four weeks after dat. Such a hollerin en a prayin as
+de people had bout dat shake. No'um I was livin down dere to Tabernacle
+den en dere wasn' none of de houses round us destroyed. No, child, won'
+no harm done nowhe' dat I knows of only as a heap of de people been so
+scared, dey never didn' grow no more."
+
+"Yes'um, I think bout here de other night dat I had make you a promise
+to fetch you up some of dem signs de olden people used to put faith in.
+Dere one sign bout if you hear a dog howl or a cow low round your house
+on a night, it a pretty good sign you gwine lose somebody out dat house.
+I finds dat to be a mighty true sign cause I notices it very closely."
+
+"Den dey used to say, too, if you get up in de mornin feelin in a good
+humor, de devil sho gwine get you fore night fall dat same day. Cose I
+don' pay so much attention to dat. If I get up feelin like singin, I has
+to sing cause it my time to sing, I say."
+
+"Let me see, dere another one of dem omen dat I had shake up in my mind
+to tell you. Say, if you see a ground mole rootin round your house, it
+won' be long fore you gwine move from dat place. But I don' never see
+no ground moles hardly dese days. Don' think dey worries nobody much."
+
+"I recollects, too, way back yonder de people used to say, if you see de
+smoke comin out de chimney en turn down en flatten out on de ground, it
+a sign of rain in a few days."
+
+"Yes, mam, I think bout dis one more. If you dream bout you be travelin
+en come to a old rotten down buildin, it a sign of a old person death.
+Don' say whe' it a man or a woman, but it a sho sign dat a old person
+gwine die."
+
+"Den people what lives in de country believes, if a fox comes round a
+house barkin en a scratchin, it a sign dey gwine lose somebody out dey
+family. Yes'um, de fox just comes right out de woods up to de yard en
+barks. You see, a dog won' never run a fox dat comes bout dem barkin.
+No, mam, when de dog hear dat, he just stands right under de house en
+growls at de fox. I know dat be a true sign cause us tried dat one."
+
+"Now, I got another one of dem thought comin. Yes, my Lord, I hear talk
+dat if you get de broom en sweep your house out fore sunrise, you would
+sweep your friends out right wid de trash. Dat used to be a big sign wid
+de people, too. En it bad luck to take up ashes after de sun go down,
+dey say. Yes, I know bout plenty people won' do dat today."
+
+"Well, honey, seems like when I calls back, de people in a worser fix
+den when I used to get 25 cents a day. Used to could take dat en go to a
+country store en get a decent dress to wear to church. Sell peck of us
+corn en get it in trade. Didn' never pay more den 50 cents for a load of
+wood in dem days en I remembers just as good eggs been sell for 10 cents
+a dozen en 15 cents bout Christmas time. Cose I ain' exactly decided
+what to speak bout de times cause it dis way to my mind. De people, dey
+have a better privilege dis day en time, but dey don' appreciate nothin
+like dey did back in my dark days. Yes, mam, de people was more thankful
+to man en God den dey is dese days. Dat my belief bout de way de world
+turnin, I say."
+
+  Source: Lizzie Davis, colored, age between 70 and 80, Marion,
+          S. C.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Dec., 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project #1855
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  LOUISA DAVIS
+  EX-SLAVE 106 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+"Well, well, well! You knows my white folks on Jackson Creek, up in
+Fairfield! I's mighty glad of dat, and glad to see you. My white folks
+come to see me pretty often, though they lives way up dere. You wants to
+write me up? Well, I'll tell you all I recollect, and what I don't tell
+you, my daughter and de white folks can put in de other 'gredients. Take
+dis armchair and git dat smokin' ash tray; lay it on de window sill by
+you and make yourself comfortable and go ahead."
+
+"I was born in de Catawba River section. My grandpappy was a full blood
+Indian; my pappy a half Indian; my mother, coal black woman. Just who I
+b'long to when a baby? I'll leave dat for de white folks to tell, but
+old Marster Jim Lemon buy us all; pappy, mammy, and three chillun: Jake,
+Sophie, and me. De white folks I fust b'long to refuse to sell 'less
+Marse Jim buy de whole family; dat was clever, wasn't it? Dis old Louisa
+must of come from good stock, all de way 'long from de beginnin', and I
+is sho' proud of dat."
+
+"When he buy us, Marse Jim take us to his place on Little River nigh
+clean cross de county. In de course of time us fell to Marse Jim's son,
+John, and his wife, Miss Mary. I was a grown woman then and nursed their
+fust baby, Marse Robert. I see dat baby grow to be a man and 'lected to
+legislature, and stand up in dat Capitol over yonder cross de river and
+tell them de Law and how they should act, I did. They say I was a pretty
+gal, then, face shiny lak a ginger cake, and hair straight and black as
+a crow, and I ain't so bad to look at now, Marse Willie says."
+
+"My pappy rise to be foreman on de place and was much trusted, but he
+plowed and worked just de same, mammy say maybe harder."
+
+"Then one springtime de flowers git be blooming, de hens to cackling,
+and de guineas to patarocking. Sam come along when I was out in de yard
+wid de baby. He fust talk to de baby, and I asked him if de baby wasn't
+pretty. He say, 'Yes, but not as pretty as you is, Louisa.' I looks at
+Sam, and dat kind of foolishness wind up in a weddin'. De white folks
+allowed us to be married on de back piazza, and Reverend Boggs performed
+de ceremony."
+
+"My husband was a slave of de Sloans and didn't get to see me often as
+he wanted to; and of course, as de housemaid then, dere was times I
+couldn't meet him, clandestine like he want me. Us had some grief over
+dat, but he got a pass twice a week from his marster, Marse Tommie
+Sloan, to come to see me. Bold as Sam git to be, in after years ridin'
+wid a red shirt long side of General Bratton in '76, dat nigger was
+timid as a rabbit wid me when us fust git married. Shucks, let's talk
+'bout somthing else. Sam was a field hand and drive de wagon way to
+Charleston once a year wid cotton, and always bring back something
+pretty for me."
+
+"When de war come on, Sam went wid young Marster Tom Sloan as bodyguard,
+and attended to him, and learned to steal chickens, geese, and turkeys
+for his young marster, just to tell 'bout it. He dead now; and what I
+blames de white folks for, they never would give him a pension, though
+he spend so much of his time and labor in their service. I ain't bearin'
+down on my kind of white folks, for I'd jump wid joy if I could just git
+back into slavery and have de same white folks to serve and be wid them,
+day in and day out."
+
+"Once a week I see de farm hands git rations at de smoke house, but dat
+didn't concern me. I was a housemaid and my mammy run de kitchen, and us
+got de same meals as my marster's folks did."
+
+"Yas sir; I got 'possum. Know how to cook him now. Put him in a pot and
+parboil him, then put him in a oven wid lots of lard or fat-back, and
+then bake him wid yaller yam potatoes, flanked round and round, and then
+wash him down wid locust and persimmon beer followed by a piece of
+pumpkin pie. Dat make de bestest meal I 'members in slavery days."
+
+"Us got fish out of Little River nigh every Saturday, and they went good
+Sunday morning. Us had Saturday evenin's, dat is, de farm hands did, and
+then I got to go to see Sam some Sundays. His folks, de Sloans, give us
+a weddin' dinner on Sunday after us was married, and they sho' did tease
+Sam dat day."
+
+"Like all rich buckra, de Lemons had hogs a plenty, big flock of sheep,
+cotton gin, slaves to card, slaves to spin, and slaves to weave. Us was
+well clothed and fed and 'tended to when sick. They was concerned 'bout
+our soul's salvation. Us went to church, learn de catechism; they was
+Presbyterians, and read de Bible to us. But I went wid Sam after
+freedom. He took de name of Davis, and I jined de Methodist Church and
+was baptized Louisa Davis."
+
+"Patroller, you ask me? 'Spect I do 'member them. Wasn't I a goodlookin'
+woman? Didn't Sam want to see me more than twice a week? Wouldn't he
+risk it widout de pass some time? Sure he did. De patrollers got after
+and run Sam many a time."
+
+"After de war my pappy went to Florida. He look just like a Indian, hair
+and all, bushy head, straight and young lookin' wid no beard. We never
+heard from him since."
+
+"De slaves wash de family clothes on Saturday and then rested after
+doin' dat. Us had a good time Christmas; every slave ketch white folks
+wid a holler, 'Christmas gift, Marster' and they holler it to each
+other. Us all hung our stockin's all 'bout de Big House, and then dere
+would be sumpin' in dere next mornin'. Lord, wasn't them good times!"
+
+"Now how is it dese days? Young triflin' nigger boys and gals lyin'
+'round puffin' cigarets, carryin' whiskey 'round wid them, and gittin'
+in jail on Christmas, grievin' de Lord and their pappies, and all sich
+things. OH! De risin' generation and de future! What is it comin' to? I
+just don't know, but dere is comin' a time to all them."
+
+"I sho' like to dance when I was younger. De fiddlers was Henry Copley
+and Buck Manigault; and if anybody 'round here could make a fiddle ring
+like Buck could, wouldn't surprise me none if my heart wouldn't cry out
+to my legs, 'Fust lady to de right and cheat or swing as you like, and
+on to de right'."
+
+"Stop dat laughin'. De Indian blood in me have held me up over a hundred
+years, and de music might make me young again."
+
+"Oh yes, us had ghost stories, make your hair stand on end, and us put
+iron in de fire when us hear screech owl, and put dream book under bed
+to keep off bad dreams."
+
+"When de yankees come they took off all they couldn't eat or burn, but
+don't let's talk 'bout dat. Maybe if our folks had beat them and git up
+into dere country our folks would of done just like they did. Who
+knows?"
+
+"You see dis new house, de flower pots, de dog out yonder, de cat in de
+sun lyin' in de chair on de porch, de seven tubs under de shed, de two
+big wash pots, you see de pictures hangin' round de wall, de nice beds,
+all dese things is de blessin's of de Lord through President Roosevelt.
+My grandson, Pinckney, is a World War man, and he got in de CCC Camp,
+still in it in North Carolina. When he got his bonus, he come down, and
+say, 'Grandma, you too old to walk, supposin' I git you a automobile?"
+I allow, 'Son, de Indian blood rather make me want a house.' Then us
+laugh. 'Well,' he say, 'Dis money I has and am continuin' to make, I
+wants you and mama to enjoy it.' Then he laugh fit to kill heself. Then
+I say, 'I been dreamin' of a tepee all our own, all my lifetime; buy us
+a lot over in Sugartown in New Brookland, and make a home of happiness
+for your ma, me and you'."
+
+"And dis is de tepee you settin' in today. I feel like he's a young
+warrior, loyal and brave, off in de forests workin' for his chief, Mr.
+Roosevelt, and dat his dreams are 'bout me maybe some night wid de winds
+blowin' over dat three C camp where he is."
+
+
+
+  Project 1885 -1-
+  District #4
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  May 29, 1937
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was a slave of Bill Davis who lived at "Rich Hill", near Indian
+Creek, in Newberry County, S. C. I was born about 1856, I reckon. My
+daddy was Ivasum Davis and my mammy was Rhody Davis. Marse Bill was a
+good master, lived in a big house, give us a good place to live and
+plenty to eat. He hardly ever whipped us, and was never cruel to us. He
+didn't let his overseer whip us, and never hit a man.
+
+"Aw, we had good eats den. Wish I has some of dem old ash-cakes now
+which was cooked in de brick oven or in de ashes in de fireplace. My
+mistress had a big garden, and give us something to eat out of it. We
+used to go hunting, and killed possums, rabbit, squirrels, and birds.
+
+"We had home-made clothes 'till I was big boy. Dey was made from card
+and spin wheels.
+
+"Our work was light; we got up at sun-up at blowing of de horn and
+worked till sundown. Sometimes we worked on Saturday afternoons when we
+had to. On Saturday nights we had frolics--men and women. Some women
+would wash their clothes on Saturday afternoons. Den at night we have
+prayer meetings.
+
+"We had no church on our plantation, not till after freedom, but we
+learned to read and write and spell.
+
+"De padderrolers didn't bother us; our master always give us a pass when
+we go anywhere.
+
+"On Christmas Day master always give big dinners for slaves, and on New
+Year we had a holiday.
+
+"I married Lila Davis at de Baptist Church in Newberry.
+
+"When our slaves got sick we sent for de doctor. Some of de old folks in
+the neighborhood believed in giving root-herb tea or tea made from
+cherry barks or peach leaves.
+
+"When freedom come de master told us we was free and could go but if we
+wanted to stay on with him, we could stay. We stayed with him for two
+years and worked by day wages.
+
+"The Ku Klux was dere. I heard old folks talk about dem. Dey had white
+sheets over their heads and white caps on their heads.
+
+"The Yankees went through our place and stole cattle.
+
+"I thought slavery was all right, 'cause I had a good time. I had a good
+master.
+
+"I joined the church when I was 21 years old because I thought I'd live
+better. I think all ought to join the church."
+
+  Source: Wallace Davis (88), Newberry, S. C.; interviewer: G. Leland
+          Summer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Oct. 15, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES OF EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I live in a little two-room house beyond Helena where I work a little
+patch of land which I rent. I don't own anything. I make a living
+working de land.
+
+"I was born on Indian Creek in Newberry County, S. C. about 1856. My
+mammy was Rhody Davis and my pa was Ivasum Davis. We belonged in slavery
+to Bill Davis. He lived at de place called "Rich Hill". De old house is
+done tore down, but young Riser now lives in de new house on de place.
+
+"Our master was good to us, but whipped us a little sometimes. He would
+not allow his overseer to whip any of us. He give us enough to eat and a
+fair place to live in. We didn't want fer anything. Dey had plenty to
+eat on de farm, and sure had good eatings. Dere was a brick oven which
+could cook good bread and cakes. We had a big garden which de mistress
+looked after, and she had plenty from it which she shared wid de slaves.
+
+"De old spinning wheel was used lots of times and dey made all de
+clothes everybody on de place wore.
+
+"We didn't have no church to go to, but dey sometimes made some slaves
+go to white folks churches where dey set on de back seats. We didn't
+have schools and couldn't learn to read and write till after freedom
+come; den some niggers learned at de brush arbors.
+
+"Befo' freedom de patrollers marched up and down de road but didn't
+bother us. Our master always give us a pass when we went somewhere. On
+Christmas he give us big dinners.
+
+"I married Lilla Davis at de white folks' Baptist church in Newberry.
+
+"When slaves got sick some of dem took tree barks and made teas to
+drink, and some made tea from root herbs. We had doctors, too, but dey
+made lots of deir medicine from de barks and herbs.
+
+"I can't remember much what de Ku Klux did, but heard about dem. Just
+after de war de Yankees marched through our place and stole some cattle
+and run away wid dem. In some places dey burned down de barns and gin
+houses.
+
+"I had a good master and always had plenty to eat, so I thought slavery
+was all right. We didn't have nothing of any kind to worry about.
+
+"I don't know nothing much about Abe Lincoln or Jefferson Davis."
+
+  Source: Wallace Davis (N. 88), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. (9/15/37).
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, August 20, 1937
+
+  WILLIAM HENRY DAVIS
+  Ex-Slave, 72 Years
+
+
+"I born de first day of March in 1865 cause de white folks raise me
+mostly en dat how-come I know how old I ought to say I is. My father
+belong to de old man Jackie Davis, dat live not so far from Tabernacle,
+en den he fall to he son, Mr. William J. Davis. Dat whe' I was raise. My
+grandfather, old man Caesar, live dere too."
+
+"I never been treated exactly as de other plantation peoples was as it
+just like I tellin you, I be round de white folks mostly. My mamma, she
+do all de cooking to de big house en dere be a division in de Missus
+kitchen for de cook en she chillun to stay in. Sometimes my Massa make
+my mamma feed all de small plantation chillun dere to de kitchen from de
+table. Dey want de chillun to hurry en grow en dat de reason dey give em
+good attention at de house. Dey give us milk en clabber en corn bread to
+eat mostly en give us fritters some of de time. Dat was fried wheat
+bread what some people call pancakes. Used to give me job to mind de
+cows en de calves when dey was put to grazing."
+
+"All de other colored peoples live in de nigger quarter up on de hill.
+Just like de white people house here, de colored people house all be in
+row pretty much off from de big house. Oh, de people was meant to work
+in dat day en time. De white folks teach em en show em what dey look for
+em to do. Den if dey didn' do it like dey tell em do it, dey chastise
+em."
+
+"It just like I tellin you, de people fare wid abundance of everything
+in dem days. Destroy much meat in one month den as de people gets hold
+of in whole year dese days. It was just dis way, everybody know to have
+fence round bout dey plantation den en de hogs could run anywhe'. All de
+field land was fence en de woods was for de run of de stock. Dey mark em
+en some of de time, dey hear tell of stock 10 mile away. Know em by de
+brand."
+
+"Peoples didn' have heap of all kind of things dat dey have dese days,
+but somehow it look like dey have a knack of gettin along better wid
+what dey have den. Didn' have no stoves to cook on in dem days. Cook in
+clay oven en on de fireplace. Make up fire en when it die down, dey put
+tatoes (potatoes) in de oven en let em stay dere all night. My God, won'
+nothin no better den dem oven tatoes was. Some of de time, dey have wire
+in de chimney wid de pots hanging on dat. Folks used to make up a cake
+of corn bread en pat it on de hearth en when de fire burn right low, dey
+cover de cake all up in pile of ashes. When it get done, it be brown
+through de ashes en dey take it out en wash en rub all de ashes off it.
+Den it was ready to eat. Dat what dey call ash cake. Just seem like what
+de peoples used to cook be sweeter eatin den what dey cooks dis day en
+time."
+
+"Oh, I beat rice many a day. Yes'um, beat rice many a day for my
+grandmother en my mamma too. Had a mortar en a pestle dat beat rice
+wid. Dey take big tree en saw log off en set it up just like a tub. Den
+dey hollow it out in de middle en take pestle dat have block on both it
+end en beat rice in dat mortar. Beat it long time en take it out en fan
+it en den put it back. De last time it put back, tear off some shucks en
+put in dere to get de red part of de rice out en make it white. Ain'
+nobody never been born can tell you more bout dem pestles en mortars den
+William Henry Davis know."
+
+"Yes'um, used to go to corn shuckings en rye thrashings en pea
+thrashings plenty times. Oh, dey sing en have music en have big pot
+cookin out in de yard wid plenty rice en fresh meat for everybody. Dere
+be so many people some of de time, dey had to have two or three pots.
+Den dey have dem log rollings to clean up de land en when dey would get
+to rollin dem heavy logs, dey give de men a little drink of whiskey to
+revive em, but dey gage how much dey give em. O Lord, we had tough time
+den. After dey get through wid all de work, dey would eat supper den.
+Give us rice en corn bread en fresh meat en coffee en sweet tatoe pone.
+My Lord, dat sweet tatoe pone was de thing in dem days. Missie, you ain'
+never eat no pone bread? Dey take piece of tin en drive nails through it
+en grate de raw tatoes on dat. Den dey take a little flour en hot water
+en molasses en mix up in dem raw tatoes en bake it in de oven on de
+fireplace. Have lid to oven en put fire under de bottom of it en on de
+top to get it right done. Some of de time, dey put a little ginger in it
+fore it was baked. Cut it in big slices when it get done, but wouldn'
+never eat it till dey know it was cold. Missie, de older I gets de more
+I does sorrow to go back to dem old constructions dat dey used to have."
+
+"Some of de colored peoples have bresh (brush) shelter whe' dey go to
+church in dem days, but all us go to de white folks church. Oh, de
+colored peoples go in ox carts, but us white folks have teams en
+carriage to ride in. I recollects Mr. Davis carriage look sorta like a
+house wid two big horses to pull it. De family would be in de inside en
+have seats whe' dey set facing one another. De driver have seat on de
+outside in de front en on de back of de carriage was de place to set de
+trunks."
+
+"My daddy was de blacksmith for Mr. Jackie Davis en he could make plows
+en hoes en all dem kind of things. He have a circuit dat he go round en
+mend things on other white folks plantations. Some of de time, he bring
+back more den $100.00 to he boss dat he would make. Go all bout in dat
+part of Marion county dat be part of Florence county dose times."
+
+"I hear some peoples say dey knows dere such as ghosts, but I ain' never
+have no mind in dat line. All I know bout is what my mamma used to tell
+us big chillun when she want us to stay home wid de little chillun en
+mind em. Say dere was Raw Head en Bloody Bones in de woods en if us go
+off, de child might set de house on fire. Such as dat was to make us
+stay home when dey was gone."
+
+"It just dis way, I think freedom a good thing for some people while it
+a bad thing for de ones dat don' have a knack to shuffle for dey own
+self. When freedom come, some of de colored people didn' know what
+freedom was en dey just hang around dey white folks en look to dey Massa
+for what dey get right on. Wouldn' get off en make nothin for dey own
+self. Dat how-come I think it better for some not to be free cause so
+much of worryations ain' good for peoples. Colored peoples never had to
+worry bout nothin in slavery time."
+
+  Source: William Henry Davis, age 72, ex-slave, Wahee section
+          of Marion Co., S. C.
+
+  Personal interview, August 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Aug. 24, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"Sunday, Aug. 1, was my 82nd ~HW: 84th?~] birthday; so I was born in
+1853. De very day I come into de world I do not know, but soon my
+marster, Starke Sims, begun to train me. Dr. Bill Sims, Marse Stark's
+son, was a doctor when I was born. A younger son was called Hal. When
+Hal was a boy he said he was gwine off, and when he got to be a man, dat
+is what he done; yes sirree, he got scattered off.
+
+"Dr. Bill had done started to doctoring folks befo' I got into dis
+world. And first thing dat I recollects is how my marster teached me to
+address him. He addressed me as 'Elias, Johnny Elias'. I had to answer,
+'Sirs', and dat 'S' always had to be dar to please de marster. All of
+his slaves had to address him de same way. Sometimes we would answer,
+'Sirs Marster'.
+
+"All de things my marster teached me are still a great help to me. Dis
+younger generation does not have de quality dat we old niggers has,
+because dey refuse to take de teachings of dere parents and de good
+white folks. De main thing dat Marse teached his slaves was
+mannerableness. Dat I holds to dis day; 'specially to de white people. I
+allus tries to be mannerable to dem. Often I looks back on dat, but both
+white and colored is trying to do away wid dem things. Old training is
+de best, and I cannot fergit my manners. Never does raal folks fergit
+dere raising. Dats what shows up de quality in people. I likes quality
+in everything, and as soon as I sees strangers and hears dem talk and
+looks at dere action, I can tell how much quality dey got. Dat I sho
+can. I never is gwine to drap my raising, don't care what de style
+comes to. Dat's jest one thing dat my race and de white race, too, wants
+to do away wid. Dey don't hold up no manners and no ra'al raising.
+
+"De school teachers tells de chilluns to say yes and no to me. Dey tells
+dem to say de same thing to white folks. Den dey teaches de chilluns to
+Mr. and Miss de own race and to call white folks by dere names widout
+any handle to it. Dat ain't gwine to work, and any niggers dat has
+self-respect jest ain't gwine to call no white folks by dere name. If
+you doesn't respect other folks, why den other folks ain't gwine to show
+no respect fer you. Why some of my grand chilluns sets up and says 'yes'
+and 'no' to me 'stead of 'yes sir' and 'no sir'. But I is right here to
+tell you dat my own chilluns don't say 'no' and 'yes' to me. I is
+strived wid dem and dey knows how to answer proper to dere elders and to
+white folks. I ain't got no time fer dese school teachers dat tells de
+pupils to answer in no sech insulting ways as dat. I likes manners and
+widout manners folks ain't quality; don't make no diffuns 'bout what
+color dey is or how far dey is gone in de reading books. Young'uns
+saying 'yes' and 'no' is jest plain ugly. It suits me to meet nice
+folks, and when I finds dat dey ain't got mannerableness about dem, den
+I concludes dat dey jest ain't nice.
+
+"I gwine to dress up tonight and go to preaching at Mt. Zion. Dey done
+already started running meeting dar. I used to preach amongst dem at de
+big meetings, but I is retracting now.
+
+"My old marse low to us, 'You is free now, yes sir, you is sho free
+niggers now. You is gwine out into de world on your own. Let me tell you
+dis: If you be's mannerable you will allus come out more dan conqueror.'
+I was young den, and I did not know what 'more dan conqueror' meant
+den. I is larn't now what it means. Thank God, I does, fer his telling
+me dat. I lays to de fact dat de reason I is never been in jail is dat I
+allus had manners. Young'uns acts biggety and den dey lands right
+straight in de first jail dar is.
+
+"I sho never went to no war, but I worked at de house in de corn field
+a-raising corn fer de war hosses. I been in only two states, North and
+South Carolina. I travels jest according to common sense: lets other
+folks be my guide. I met up wid Indians; dey wanted to claim kin wid me,
+but I wouldn't claim kin wid dem. He tell me bout my high cheeks or
+something; den he low something 'bout my nose being long. Dey close
+thinking people, dem Indians is. Dey don't fergit nothing. He say he see
+I is mixed-up, but I never is knowed jest what he was driving at. I told
+him I was teached from de old generation, but dat dar wasn't narry drop
+of Indian blood in me. Cherokee Creek whar dat old Indian place is. Dey
+has all kinds of things to sell dat dey makes. I ain't no Indian and I
+does not feel dat way, no sir, not narry bit does I feel like I is a
+Indian.
+
+"My mother died when I was a wee baby. Never is had no brothers or
+sisters. She left me wid her marster dat owned her mother, Kissy Sims.
+Marse Starke helped my granny to raise me. Kissy come from Virginia. Her
+Pa let a man buy her and three other chilluns. Marse Starke raised dem
+all up and dats how dey got his name.
+
+"Dis here man standing here by me is Zack Herndon. We is de oldest
+niggers in Cherokee County dat I knows of. De other old ones is all dead
+now. Oh, you knows him, does you Zack?
+
+"Never did so awful much work when I was coming up. Dey was priming me
+and training me. When dey call my name, I allus come. Often I hid myself
+to see de bad niggers whipped. Never had no 'buse in my life. Marse
+didn't 'low nobody to look at his niggers when dey was being whipped,
+kaise he hated to have to let any of dem be 'bused. Marse Starke sho
+never whipped no one dat was good. He never let his overseers 'buse
+nobody neither. I does not 'member much 'bout his overseers. One named a
+Briggs, one a Bishop, one a Coleman and Alley Cook was de last one; I
+'members his name best.
+
+"Marse Starke was a rich man. He had in de Quarter what was know'd as a
+chilluns' house. A nurse stayed in it all de time to care fer all de
+plantation chilluns. My granny 'Kissy' acted as nurse dar some. Aunt
+Peggy and aunt Ciller was two mo'. Ciller was de daughter of a King in
+Africa, but dat story been traveling ever since she got to dese shores,
+and it still a-gwine. All dese helped to nurse me. Dey fed us on milk,
+plenty of it. We had honey, lasses and lots of good things. When I was a
+little bit-a boy I had a big bowl to eat out of. And us chilluns et like
+hogs and got fat. We allus had fine food. My marster give me a biscuit
+sometime from his plate and I wouldn't have tuck 25c fer it. He allus
+put butter in it or ham and gravy. He would say, 'Dat's de doctrine, Be
+kind!' Nobody never got no 'borious beating from our master's hands.
+
+"I been toiling here on dis earth fer a long time. De Lawd spared me to
+bring up a big race of chilluns myself. We is awful po' and ain't none
+of my chilluns got things as well as I had when my marster give it to
+me. My daughter and grand-daughter lives wid Mr. Nathan Littlejohn. He
+is rich. I stay in de house wid dem. Dey 'vides wid me dat what dey has.
+But dat ain't much. I has great-great-grand chilluns dat I ain't never
+seed. I have five chilluns living to my knowings. Last time I counted, I
+had 137 grand and great-grand chilluns. So you see I looks into de
+fourth generation of my own family.
+
+"Me and Old man Zack went to a hanging one time. Both of us clamed up
+into a tree so dat we could look down on de transaction from a better
+angle. De man, I means de sheriff, let us go up dar. He let some mo'
+niggers clamb up in de same tree wid us. De man dat was being hung was
+called Alf Walker. He was a mulatto and he had done kil't a preacher, so
+you see dey was hanging him fer his wickedness, sho as you born dey was.
+
+"While me and Zack up in dat tree a-witnessing dat transaction, peers
+like we become mo' acquainted wid one another dan we had ever been since
+us know'd one another.
+
+"Sheriff 'low'd, 'You is got only fifteen minutes to live in. What has
+you got to say?' Alf got up and talked by giving a lecture to folks
+about being lawful citizens. He give a lecture also to young folks who
+he 'low'd dat was not in sech condition as he was. He talking to dem
+'bout obeying de parents and staying at home. Me and Zack exchange
+glances and Zack 'low, 'Alf ain't never stayed at home none since he
+been big enough to tramp over de country and he up dar fixing to git his
+neck broke fer his waryness, and trying to tell us good folks young and
+old how us should act. Now ain't he something to be a-telling us what to
+do.'
+
+"Finally, Alf had done talked his time out and de sheriff 'low, 'Now you
+is only got two minutes, what does you want?'
+
+Alf hollered, 'Mr. Sheriff, lemme shake hands wid somebody.' Sheriff say
+everybody dat wishes to may shake his hand. Me and Zack stayed up in dat
+tree, but some of de niggers went up and shaked hands wid Alf.
+
+"Time out! You could-a heard a pin drap. I could hear my breath
+a-coming. I got scared. Zack looked ra'al ashy. Nobody on de ground
+moved, jest stayed ra'al quiet and still. Noose drapped over de man's
+neck and tightened. Some one moved de block from under his foots. Dat
+jerked him down. Whoop! All dem in de tree fell out 'cept me and Zack,
+dey was so scared. Alf Walker wasn't no mo'. Me and Zack sot up in dat
+tree like two cranks. Us sot dar as if it hadn't tuck no 'fect on us
+a-tall. All de other folks got 'fected. Zack tickled me when he saw me
+studying. He 'low 'you act awful hard-hearted.' I 'low, 'dat man telling
+us how to do jest now, and dar he is hanged. Us still a-setting in dis
+tree, ain't we? We ain't never wanted to see no mo' hangings, is we
+Zack?' Zack 'low dat we ain't.
+
+"Onc't de guide low'd to de President, 'You raises your hat to a
+nigger?' President 'low, 'I ain't gwine to let nobody be mo' polite dan
+I is.' He never let nobody have mo' sense dan he did either. Dat was
+Washington.
+
+"Me and Zack is gwine to tell you how it is. We is old and ain't no need
+fer old folks to try and fool. I is too shame to beg. I wants de
+pension. Is you gwine to tell me 'bout it? Dis de truth, I is took a
+chip fer food. If I could got to school and write fast as I can shake my
+fist, I'd be a-giving out dat pension right fast. I likes character and
+principle. I got a boy turned into 64 years. He got character and
+principle, and he still do what I say. I never put my mouth amongst old
+folks when I was young. Me and Zack often talks over old times."
+
+  Source: Elias Dawkins (84), Rt. 1, Gaffney, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 8/20/37.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  FOLKLORE
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  June 3, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES OF EX-SLAVES
+
+
+Upon learning where an ex-slave lived, the writer walked up to a house
+on Pickenpack street where two old colored men were sitting on the front
+porch. Asked if one of them was named 'Will Dill', the blacker of the
+two motioned to himself and said,
+
+"Come here, come in and have a seat," at the same time touching the
+porch swing beside him.
+
+He acknowledged that he lived in slavery days, "but was a small boy,
+walking and playing around at that time". His master was Zeek Long, who
+lived in Anderson County not far from "Three and Twenty Mile Creek' and
+used to ask him:--what the rooster said, what the cow said, what the pig
+said; and used to get a great deal of amusement out of his kiddish
+replies and imitation of each animal and fowl. From his own calculation,
+he figured he was born in 1862 in the home of his mother who was owned
+by Zeek Long. His father, also, was owned by the same master, but lived
+in another house. He remembers when the Yankees came by and asked for
+something to eat. When they had gotten this, they went to the corn crib,
+which was chock full of corn, and took the corn out, shucked it, and
+gave it to their horses. All the good horses had been hidden in the
+woods and only two or three old poor ones were left in the stables, but
+the Yankees did not take these for they only wanted good horses. He
+remembers seeing the patrollers coming around and checking up on the
+'niggers'. He had an uncle who used to slip off every night and go to
+see some colored girl. He had a path that he followed in going to her
+house.
+
+"One night Uncle Bob, he started to go see his gal, and it was pretty
+late, but he followed his path. There were some paterollers out looking
+for him, and t'rectly they saw him. Uncle Bob lit out running and the
+paterollers started running, too. Here they had it up and down the path.
+Uncle Bob, he knew there was a big ditch crossing the path, but the
+paterollers didn't know it; so when Uncle Bob got to the gully, he
+jumped right over it and run on, but one of the patrollers fell into the
+gully and broke his neck. After dat, Uncle Bob, he stayed in and kept
+quiet, for he knew the paterollers had it in for him."
+
+He asked the writer if he had ever heard a chicken talk. He said that he
+had, and described a scene at the house one day when a preacher was
+there. The chickens and guineas came around the house as usual to get
+their feed, but didn't get it. He "quoted" the rooster as saying; "Has
+the preacher gone yet?" A guinea hen answered, "not yet--not yet".
+
+He said that he often heard turkeys talk. They would ask each other
+questions, and another fowl would answer. He once heard a mule that was
+in the barn, say: "Lord! Lord! All I want is corn and fodder."
+
+Being told by the negro who was sitting beside him, that he did not
+believe animals and fowls could talk, he at once said:
+
+"Sure--roosters and gobblers can talk, one day there was a turkey hen
+and a lots of little turkeys scratching around a certain place on a
+hill, the little turkeys were heard to say, 'Please mam, please mam'. An
+old gobbler standing and strutting near, cried out, 'Get the hell out of
+here'. The turkey hen then moved to another place to feed."
+
+He said that he gets out in his porch early in the mornings and whistles
+to the birds, and that soon a large flock of birds are all around him.
+Offering to demonstrate his ability, he began to whistle in a peculiar
+way. Soon thereafter, two or three English sparrows flew into the yard
+from nearby trees.
+
+"See thar! See thar!" he said, pointing to them.
+
+"When the war was over," he continued, "we stayed on at Marster's
+plantation for some time. I grew up, and was always a fellow who liked
+hard work. I have railroaded, was a tree doctor, helped dig wells and
+did a lot of hard work. The white people was always pleased with my work
+and told me so. I went down a well once to help clean it out. It looked
+like to me that well was caving in above me; so I hollered for them to
+pull me out. When I got out, I told them I wasn't going down no wells
+any more unless somebody threw me in."
+
+He said that he had seen lots of wild turkeys when he was a boy. One day
+when he was going to get some "bacco" for his aunt, he saw a hen and a
+lot of little turkeys--
+
+"I run after the little wild turkeys but I never kotched a one. That old
+mother hen would fly from one limb in a tree to another limb in another
+tree and call them. They was the runningest things I ever saw. I nearly
+run myself to death but I never did get one."
+
+Every now and them, he said, one of the men on the plantation would
+shoot a wild hog and we would have plenty of meat to eat. The hogs ran
+wild in those days, he said.
+
+"I never saw a ghost," he said, "unless it was one night when we boys
+was out with our dogs 'possum hunting. The dogs treed a possum in a
+little scrubby tree. I was always a good climber; so I went up the tree
+to shake the 'possum out. I shook and shook but the 'possum would not
+fall out of the tree. I shook so hard that my hat fell off and I told
+the niggers not to let the dogs tear my hat. That was no skunk in the
+tree, 'cause we couldn't smell anything, but when I looked again at the
+'possum, or whatever it was, it got bigger and bigger. I scrambled down
+the tree right away, nearly falling out of it, but I wanted to get away.
+The dogs acted kinda scared; yet they would run up to the tree and bark.
+One old dog I had did not bark, he just hollered. We left the thing in
+the tree. I don't know what it was, but it warn't no 'possum, for I'd
+shook it out of the tree if it had been."
+
+In further discussing the subject of fowls in talking among themselves,
+he said that he had often noticed a rooster and some hens standing
+around in the shade talking.
+
+"The rooster will say something and the hens will listen; then answer
+him back, 'yes'. One day I heard a turkey hen say, 'we are poor, we are
+poor'. The old turkey gobbler said, 'well, who in the hell can help it.'
+Yes sir, they talk just like we do, but 'taint everybody can understand
+'em."
+
+He said that he had fifteen children by his first wife. He remained
+single for thirteen years after his wife's death, and never had any
+children by his second wife.
+
+"Do you reckon we'll ever get a pension in our old age?" he asked. "It
+seems to me they would give us old fellows something to live on, for we
+can't work. How can we live now-a-days? When a man has done good work
+when he was able, the country ought to take care of him in his old age.
+
+"I was a hand for hard work all my life. I was raised that way; but now,
+that I can't do nothing, it looks like the state ought to take care of
+me.
+
+"My father told me when I was sitting up to a gal and I told him I was
+gwinter marry her, 'Son don't you never cut that woman across the back,
+for as sure as you do, that cut will be against you on Judgement Day."
+
+"When I was laid up with the misery in my side, my feet swelled up and
+busted, and I had a awful hurting in my side and back. People wanted me
+to believe I had been conjured, but I did not believe it, and I told
+them I would eat all the stuff that a conjure man could bring. Anybody
+that believes in conjuring is just a liar. God is the only a person who
+can bring suffering on people. He don't want to do it, but it's because
+we do something He don't want us to when He makes people suffer. It is
+the bugger man that does it."
+
+"Uncle" Will said that his father and mother were married by a
+"jack-leg" preacher who, when told that they wanted to get married, had
+them both to jump backwards and forwards over a broom. He then told them
+that they were man and wife.
+
+  Source: Will Dill, 555 Pickenpack St., Spartanburg, S. C.
+  Interviewer: F. S. DuPre, Spartanburg, Dist. 4 5/19/37
+
+
+
+
+  W. W. Dixon
+  Winnsboro, S. C.
+
+  THOMAS DIXON
+  EX-SLAVE 75 YEARS OLD.
+
+
+Tom Dixon, a mulatto, is a superannuated minister of the Gospel. He
+lives in Winnsboro, S. C., at the corner of Moultrie and Crawford
+Streets. He is duly certified and registered as an old age pensioner and
+draws a pension of $8.00 per month from the Welfare Board of South
+Carolina. He is incapable of laborious exercise.
+
+"I was born in 1862, thirteen miles northeast of Columbia, S. C., on the
+border line of Kershaw and Fairfield Counties. My mother was a slave of
+Captain Moultrie Gibbes. My father was white, as you can see. My mother
+was the cook for my white folks; her name was Malinda. She was born a
+slave of Mr. Tillman Lee Dixon of Liberty Hill. After she learned to
+cook, my marster bought her from her master and paid $1,200.00 for her.
+After freedom, us took the name of Dixon.
+
+"My mistress in slavery time was Miss Mary. She was a Clark before she
+married Marse Moultrie. I was nothing but a baby when the war ended and
+freedom come to our race. I lived on my marster's Wateree River
+plantation, with mother, until he sold it and went into the hotel
+business at Union, S. C.
+
+"My mother then went to Columbia, S. C., and I attended Benedict
+College. I became a preacher in 1886, the year of the earthquake. That
+earthquake drove many sinners to their knees, me amongst them; and, when
+I got up, I resolved to be a soldier of the cross, and every since I
+have carried the shield of faith in my left hand and the sword of the
+Word in my right hand.
+
+"The night I was converted, the moon was shining brightly. We was all at
+a revival meeting out from Blythewood, then called Dako, S. C. First, we
+heard a low murmur or rolling sound like distant thunder, immediately
+followed by the swaying of the church and a cracking sound from the
+joists and rafters of the building. The women folks set up a screaming.
+The men folks set up a hollering: 'Oh Lordy! Jesus save me! We believe!
+Come Almighty King!' The preacher tried to quiet us, but we run out the
+church in the moonlight, men and women crying and praying. The preacher,
+Rev. Charlie Moore, continued the services outside and opened the doors
+of the church, and every blessed soul come forward and joined the
+church.
+
+"I married Fannie Irwin, and God blessed us all the days of her life. My
+daughter, Maggie, married a Collins and lives in the Harlem section of
+New York City. My daughter, Sallie, lives also in Harlem, Greenville
+Village. Malinda, named for my mother, lives and works in Columbia, S.
+C.
+
+"On the death of my wife, Fannie, I courted and married the widow Lizzie
+Williams. The house we live in is her own property. She had two children
+when we married, a boy and a girl. The boy got killed at the schoolhouse
+two years ago. The girl is working in Columbia, S. C. I am a
+superannuated minister of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, and
+receive a small sum of money from the denomination, yearly. The amount
+varies in different years. At no time is it sufficient to keep me in
+food and clothing and support.
+
+"I have taken nothing to do with politics all my life, but my race has
+been completely transformed, in that regard, since Mr. Roosevelt has
+been President. Left to a popular vote of the race, Mr. Roosevelt would
+get the solid South, against any other man on any ticket he might run
+on. He is God Almighty's gentleman. By that, I mean he is brave in the
+presence of the blue-bloods, kind in the presence of the common people,
+and gentle to the lowly and despised Negro."
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Folklore
+  Spartanburg, Dist. 4
+  Dec. 1, 1937
+  Edited by: Elmer Turnage
+
+  [~HW: (Dorroh~]
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I live wid my daughter in a four-room house which we rents from Doc
+Hunter. He got it in charge. My husband died several years ago.
+
+"My daddy was Harvey Pratt, and he belonged to Marse Bob Pratt in
+Newberry. My mammy was Mary Fair, and she belonged in slavery to marse
+Simeon Fair. When dey married dey had a big wedding. Marse didn't make
+slave women marry men if dey didn't want to. Befo' my mammy and daddy
+married, somebody give a note to take to Mrs. Fair, her mistress.
+Mistress wouldn't tell what was in it, but daddy run every step of de
+way, he was so glad dey would let 'em marry.
+
+"Col. Simeon Fair had a big fish pond on his place down on de branch
+behind his house, and he had a milkhouse, too. (This is where the
+Margaret Hunter Park is).
+
+"My great-grandmother come from Virginia. She was bought by Marse Fair
+from a speculator's drove. Slaves had good places to live in and
+everything to eat. Old Marse sho cared for his slaves. He give 'em
+plenty of clothes and good things to eat. On Sundays dey had to go to de
+white folks' church and he made dem put on new clean clothes dat he give
+'em.
+
+"I was born about two years befo' freedom, and I lost my mammy right
+atter de war. I remember about de Ku Klux and Red Shirts.
+
+"Everything we had was made at home, or on marster's big plantation in
+de country. Marse told his son, Billy, befo' he died to take care of his
+niggers and see dat dey didn't want for nothing.
+
+"Marse made de slaves work all day and sometimes on Saturdays, but he
+never let 'em work at night. Sometimes on de plantation dey had
+corn-shuckings and log-rollings; den dey give de hands good dinners and
+some whiskey to drink.
+
+"One old nigger had a weak back and couldn't work much, so he use to
+play marbles in de yard wid de kids most every day.
+
+"Slaves couldn't go away from de place unless dey had a pass from de
+marse to show de patrollers when dey caught dem out.
+
+"My daddy use to cook at de old Newberry Hotel. He was one of de finest
+cooks in dis part of de country. De hotel was a small wooden frame
+building wid a long front piazza. In de back was a small wooden two-room
+house dat servants lived in. Atter de war, de 'little guard house' stood
+jes' behind where de opera house now is.
+
+"Some of de slaves learned to read and write. Marse didn't keep dem from
+learning if dey wanted to. Niggers used to sing, 'I am born to die'. Dey
+learn't it from Marse Ramage's son, 'Jock' Ramage. He learn't 'em to
+sing it.
+
+"Atter de war, Marse told de niggers dey was free. Most of dem stayed on
+wid him and took his name. Slaves most always took de name of deir
+marsters.
+
+"My mother married at Thomas Pope's place, and he had old man Ned
+Pearson, a nigger who could read and write, to marry 'em. He married
+lots of niggers den. Atter de war many niggers married over agin, 'cause
+dey didn't know if de first marriage was good or not.
+
+"Marse Fair let his niggers have dances and frolics on his plantation,
+and on Saturdays dey danced till 12 o'clock midnight. Sometimes dey
+danced jigs, too, in a circle, jumping up and down. In dese times de
+young folks dance way into Sunday mornings, and nobody to stop 'em, but
+Marse wouldn't let his slaves dance atter 12 o'clock.
+
+"Everybody believed in ghosts. Nobody would pass by a graveyard on a
+dark night, and dese days dey go to cemeteries to do deir mischief, at
+night and not afraid. Doctors used to have home-made medicines. Old Dr.
+Brown made medicine from a root herb to cure rheumatism. He called it
+'rhue'. He lived in what is now called Graveltown. His old house has
+been torn down. He made hot teas from barks for fevers. He made a liquid
+salve to rub on for rheumatism.
+
+"When freedom come most of de slaves stayed on. Some man come here to
+make a speech to de slaves. He spoke in Marse Fair's yard to a big crowd
+of niggers and told dem to stay on and work for wages. When de Yankees
+come through here, dey stole everything dey could git deir hands on. Dey
+went in de house and took food and articles. Marse put guards around his
+house to keep dem out so dey wouldn't steal all de potatoes and flour he
+had for his slaves. Ku Klux went around de country and caught niggers
+and carpetbaggers. De carpetbaggers would hunt up chillun's lands, whose
+daddys was killed and try to take dem. Dat was when Judge Leheigh was
+here, and Capt. Bone was postmaster. Dey was Republicans, but when de
+Democrats got in power dey stopped all dat.
+
+"When I married John Dorroh I had a big wedding. We married at de Harp
+place in Newberry, jes' behind de big house, in a nigger cottage. White
+folks and niggers come. I was known amongst de best white families
+'cause I served as cook for dem. I was married by Rev. J. K. Walls, a
+nigger preacher from Charleston.
+
+"I think slavery ended through de work of Almighty God. My mother always
+said dat was it. My daddy left here and went to Memphis when I was five
+years old. He sent home $40. He was in de army wid Major James Baxter.
+He took care of de guns and things of de Major."
+
+  Source: Isabella Dorroh (N, 75), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. L. Summer, Newberry, S. C. 11/22/27.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Spartanburg, S. C.
+  May 31, 1937
+  Edited by: Martha Ritter
+
+  FOLKLORE: EX-SLAVES
+
+
+"I was born in Newberry County, S. C. below Prosperity on Capt. George
+De Walt's place. My daddy and mammy was Giles and Lizzie De Walt
+Downing. My daddy belonged to de Outz family, but changed his name to
+Downing--his master was Downing Outz. I was born about 1857. My mother
+had 16 children, some died young.
+
+I was a little chap when the war was here, but I remember de soldiers
+coming home from de war. De Yankees went through here and stole all the
+cattle and all the eats. De Ku Klux marched down de road dressed in
+white sheets. Freedom come and most of the slaves went away, but I
+stayed on wid Marse De Walt. Daddy worked wid Downing Outz for wages.
+When I was 15 years old I worked in de fields like grown folks. I never
+learned to read and write. We had no schools then for colored people. De
+only church we had after freedom come was a small "brush arbor" church.
+
+"We hunted rabbits, 'possums, squirrels, wild turkeys, doves and
+partridges there.
+
+"I joined de church when I was 20 years old, 'cause I thought times
+would be better for me then. Of course, I kind of back-slided little
+afterwards, but always tried to do right.
+
+  Source: Laurence Downing (80), Newberry, S. C.
+          Interviewer: G. Leland Sumer, Newberry, S. C.
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, Jane 23, 1937
+
+  WASHINGTON DOZIER
+  Ex-Slave, 90 years
+
+
+"Dis heah sho' Washington Dozier. Dat is wha' de hard time left uv him.
+I born en raise dere in Florence County de 18th uv December, 1847. Don'
+know 'xactly wha' my father name, but my mudder tell me he wuz name
+Dozier. My mudder wuz Becky en she b'long to ole man Wiles Gregg dere on
+de Charleston road. I hab two sisters en one brother, but not uv one
+father. I s'ppose brother Henry wuz me whole brother en Fannie en
+Ca'oline wuz jes me half sister."
+
+"Well, dey ne'er hab so mucha sumptin, but I recollect dey make dey own
+produce den. Oh, dey lib very well. We call it good libin' at dat time.
+Coase de bedding de colored peoples hab wasn't much cause dey jes hab
+some kind uv home-made stuff den. We raise in a t'ree room house wha'
+hab floor on two uv de room. Hab house right dere on de Gregg
+plantation. Family went from age to age in dat day en time wid dey own
+Massa name. I 'member my gra'mudder was name Fannie Gregg. Now, I tell
+yuh how I 'count fa me hab de name Dozier, I jes s'ppose dat come from
+me father."
+
+"Hadder do some sorta work in dem days lak hoe corn en replant en so on
+lak dat, but ne'er didn't do no man work. Wuz jes uh half hand, dat is
+'bout so. Dey gi'e us plenty sumptin to eat den, but ne'er pay us no
+money. Coase dey didn't 'low us no choice uv wha' we eat at dat time.
+Hab plenty meat en corn bread en molasses mos' aw de time. Den dey le'
+us hab uh garden uv we own en we hunt possum many uh time en ketch fish
+too. Meat was de t'ing dat I lak mostly."
+
+"Dey gi'e us good clothes to put on us back wha' dey hab make on de
+plantation en in de winter, dey gi'e us good warm clothes. Jes wear
+wha'e'er de white folks gi'e us. Didn't take no 'ffect tall 'bout Sunday
+clothes."
+
+"Fust time I marry I hab uh very good wedding. Marry ole man Gurley
+daughter o'er in Florence County. Don' know 'xactly how ole I was den,
+but I c'n tell yah dis much, I wasn't in no herry to marry. Aw colored
+peoples hadder do to marry den wuz to go to dey Massa en ge' uh permit
+en consider demselves man en wife. I recollect dat we hab a very good
+wedding supper dere. I marry Georgeanna de second time en I hab four
+head uv chillun by me fust wife en four head uv chillun by me second
+wife. Ne'er couldn't tell how many gran'chillun I got."
+
+My Massa en Missus wuz mighty pious good people. Dey go to preachin'
+dere to Hopewell Presbyterian Chu'ch aw de time. De man wha' wuz de
+preacher dere den wuz name Frierson. De colored peoples go dere to dat
+same chu'ch en sot en de gallery. Yuh know dere spirituals hymns en dere
+reels. I c'n sing one uv dem dat I use'er sing in my slumberin' hours.
+It go lak dis:
+
+  Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+  Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+  Oh Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'
+  When ole Gable go down on de seashore?
+
+  He gwinna place one foot in de sea
+  En de udder on de land,
+  En declare tha' time would be no more,
+  Chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do?
+
+  Chillun, wha' yah gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+  Chillun, wha' yah gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+  Then chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do
+  When ole Gable go down on de seashore?
+
+  He gwinna place one foot in de sea
+  En de udder on de land,
+  En declare tha' time would be no more,
+  Then chillun, wha' yuh gwinna do in de jedgment mornin'?
+
+"Now de angels sing dat to me in my slumberin' hour en dey sing it dat I
+might gi'e it to de libin' heah on dis earth. Well, I know right smart
+uv dem song cause accordin' to my 'sperience, de hymn book wha' to fence
+de human family in. I got ah good set uv lungs en I wuz de one wha' lead
+de flock den. Dere jes one grand reason why I can' sing right well dis
+a'ternoon, yuh is take me on de surprise lak."
+
+"I was jes uh chap in slavery time en I hadder stay dere home aw de time
+whey dere didn't no harm come 'bout me. Dey le' we chillun play marbles
+en ball aw we wanna den. Jes chunk de ball to one annuder o'er de house.
+Dat how we play ball in dem times. My white folks didn't do nuthin but
+stay home en go to chu'ch meetin's. Dey ne'er didn't punish none uv dey
+colored peoples en didn' 'low no udder people to do it neither. I
+couldn't tell yah how many slave dey own but dey hab more slave by de
+increase uv dey families. Dey hab so many dat some uv de time dey'ud
+hire some uv dem out to annuder plantation. Ne'er didn't see em sell
+none uv dey colored peoples. I know dis much, dat wuz uh right good
+place to lib."
+
+"I heared tell uv trouble 'tween de whites en de colored peoples, but
+dere wuzn't none uv dat 'round whey I stay. Dey say some uv de slave run
+'way fa bad treatment en stay in de woods. Didn't hab no jails den en
+when dey'd ketch em, dey'ud buff em en gag em en hoss whip em. Now, I
+ne'er see none uv dat but I heared tell uv it."
+
+"My Massa ne'er didn't work us hard lak. Coase uz de day' ud come, de
+hands hadder go up to de big house en go 'bout dey business, but dey
+al'ays knock offen early on uh Saturday evenin' en le' everbody do jes
+wha' dey wanna dere on de plantation. Ne'er didn't use no horn to wake
+dey colored peoples up en didn't wake em work en de big Christmus day en
+New Years' neither. Ne'er hab no udder holidays but dem two. My Massa
+gi'e aw his colored peoples uh big Christmus dinner to de white folks
+house. Jes hab plenty uv fresh meat en rice en biscuit en cake fa
+eve'ybody dat day."
+
+"Dey hab funeral fa de colored peoples den jes lak dey hab dese days
+'cept dey ne'er hab no preacher 'bout. Aw de slaves stop workin' fa de
+funeral en dey'ud jes carry de body en permit it to de ground uz wuz de
+usual t'ing dey do. Coase dey hab plenty singin' dere."
+
+"Dem t'ing wha' people call ghostes, dey is evil walks. I know dis much,
+de sperit uv de body travels en dat de truth sho' uz I libin' heah.
+Coase I ain' ne'er see none uv dem t'ing en I ain' scared uv nuthin
+neither. Don' ne'er pay no 'ttention to no black cat en t'ing lak dat.
+Ain' bother wid none uv dem charm neither. De peoples use'er hab dey own
+doc'or book en dey search dat en use wha' it say do. Dey ne'er use no
+me'icine tall den but calomel en castor oil en turpentine."
+
+"I sho' 'member when de fust gun shoot dere to Fort Sumter. Us fer uz I
+c'n recollect, it wuz in June. De Yankees come t'rough dere en to my
+knowin', dey 'haved very well. Jes ax my Massa fa sumptin to eat en dat
+wuz aw dey done. Dere sho' wuz uh rejoicing 'mongest some uv de colored
+peoples when dey tell em dey wuz free uz de white folks wuz. Some uv dem
+leab dey Massa plantation jes uz soon uz dey know'd dey wuz free, but we
+ne'er do dat. Jes stayed right on dere wid Mr. Gregg en work fa
+one-third uv wha' dey make. Coase de white folks furnish aw de wear en
+tear uv eve't'ing."
+
+"Dey ain' ne'er hab no schools fa de colored peoples no whey 'bout whey
+I stay 'fore freedom come heah. Won' long a'ter de war dat free schools
+wuz open up dere. It jes lak dis, I ain' bother wid dem schools mucha
+den, but I c'n read right smart. Jes ketch it uz I come 'long en wha' I
+kotch, I put dat to work. I is went to one uv dese night schools dey hab
+'bout heah not long gone."
+
+"Mr. Abraham Lincoln, I ain' ne'er see him, but I know he wuz de
+President uv de United States. Ain' ne'er see Mr. Jefferson Davis
+neither. Dey wus oppositionalist den, I sho' know dat."
+
+"It jes lak dis, I t'ink dis uh better day we lib in dese times. When we
+b'long to de white folks, we lib, en a'ter we wuz free we lib right on.
+I t'ink being free de best time to lib. Better to be loose den tied
+cause don' care how good yo' owner, yuh hadder be under dey
+jurisdiction. Ain' dat right?"
+
+  Source: Washington Dozier, age 90, colored, Pee Dee, Marion
+  Co. (Personal interview, June 1937).
+
+
+
+
+  Project 1885-1
+  Spartanburg Dist. 4
+  Sept. 22, 1937
+  Edited by:
+  Elmer Turnage
+
+  STORIES FROM EX-SLAVES
+  [~HW: Duk~]
+
+
+"Vinie Wilkins is my daughter's name dat live wid me. My son owns dis
+house and he keeps it up fer me and his sister. I's born on de bank of
+Cherokee Creek, but I jest 'members how many years I stayed dar. Atter
+Freedom had been a long time, we moved to Mr. Chesterfield Scruggs'
+plantation whar we share cropped. It was on de old Spartanburg road from
+here to Spartanburg.
+
+"I was purtty good-size chile when de Ku Klux come and tried to git my
+daddy. Dey whipped him; den he run off and stayed off fer over seven
+years. Dem Ku Klux was in all kinds of shapes, wid horns and things on
+dere heads. Dey was so scary looking dat I ain't never fergot dem. Dem's
+de awfulest 'boogers' I is ever see'd befo' or since. I was in de bed
+and so was Pa, but dey broke in our do' and got him. I kivvered up my
+head and did not make narry a sound. Dat's all dat I can recollect now."
+
+  Source: Alice Duke (72), 401 Woods St., Gaffney, S. C.
+          Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S. C. 9/16/37
+
+
+
+
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, June 9, 1937
+
+  AUNT SILVA DURANT
+  Ex-Slave
+
+
+"I don' know 'xactly when I wuz born but I hear my white folks say dat I
+wuz born de fust (first) year uv freedom. I I c'n tell yuh dis much dat
+I wuz uh grown 'oman when de shake wuz. Aw de older peoples wuz at de
+chu'ch en ha' left us home to take care uv aw dem little chillun. Fust
+t'ing we is know de house 'gin to quiver lak. We ne'er know wha' been to
+matter en den de house 'gin to rock en rock en rock. We wuz so scare we
+run outer in de yard en eve't'ing outer dere wuz jes uh shaking jes lak
+de house wuz. We ne'er know wha' to do. Den we heared de peoples comin'
+from de chu'ch jes uh runnin' en uh hollerin'. Didn't nobody know wha'
+make dat. I tellin yuh jes lak dat wuz, de jedgment ain' ne'er been no
+closer come heah den when dat shake was."
+
+"My mudder wuz name Clorrie en she b'long to Miss Millie Gasque up de
+road dere. I born in Miss Millie yard en I stay dere till I wuz six year
+old. My pa say I wuz six year old. He been ole man Vidger Hanes en
+b'long to Mr. Wesley White o'er dere 'bout laughin 'fore freedom 'clare.
+A'ter dat we move on de hill en my pa hire me dere to Colonel Durant to
+wash dishes en help 'bout de kitchen. Den dey put me to do de washin' en
+I been uh washin' en uh washin' mos' e'er since. Dats de way I done till
+I ge' so I ne'er couldn't make it en den I hadder quit offen. Dat how
+come I hab aw dese pretty flowers. Miss Durant gi'e me aw dem dahlia
+wha' yuh see in dat yard right dere. Dat how I ge' wha' little bit uv
+money I hab dese day en time. Dem white folks up dere in town comes down
+heah en begs em from me."
+
+"Dey tell me some uv de peoples ge' 'long good en den some uv dem ge'
+'long bad back dere in slavery day. Don' care how good peoples is dere
+sho' be uh odd'un de crowd some uv de time. Dey say some uv de colored
+peoples'ud run 'way from dey Massa en hide in de woods. Den dey slip
+back to de plantation in de night en ge' green corn outer de white folks
+field en carry em back in de woods en cook em dere. I hear Tom Bostick
+tell 'bout when he run 'way one time. Say he use'er run 'way en hide in
+de woods aw de time. Den de o'erseer ketch him one time when he been
+come back en wuz grabblin' 'bout de tatoe patch. Say he gwinna make Tom
+Bostick stay outer de woods ur kill him 'fore sun up dat day. Tom say
+dey take him down 'side de woods en strip he clothes offen him. (I hear
+em say dere plenty people bury down 'side dem woods dat dere ain' nobody
+know 'bout). Den he say dey tie him to uh tree en take uh fat light'ud
+torch en le' de juice drap outer it right on he naked body. He say he
+holler en he beg en he ax em hab mercy but dat ne'er didn't do no good.
+He mock how de tar make uh racket when it drap on he skin. Yuh know it
+gwinna make uh racke't. Dat t'ing gwinna make uh racket when it drap on
+anyt'ing wha' fresh. Ain' yuh ne'er hear no hot grease sizzle lak?
+Yas'um, hear Tom Bostick tell dat more times den I got fingers en toe."
+
+"Den dey'ud hab sale en sell some uv de colored peoples offen to annuder
+plantation hundred mile 'way some uv de time. 'Vide man en he wife. Dey
+sho' done it. I hear pa tell 'bout dat. Make em stand up on uh stump en
+bid em offen dere jes lak dey wuz hoss. Pa say dey sell he brother Elic
+wife 'way wid de onlyest child dey hab. Ne'er didn't see dat wife en
+child no more."
+
+"Coase de le' de colored peoples visit 'round from one plantation to
+annuder but dey hadder hab uh ticke' wid em. Effen dey meet em in de
+road en dey ne'er hab dat ticke' somewhey 'bout on em, dey hadder take
+wha' follow. Ne'er 'low em to hab no udder paper 'bout em no whey. Effen
+dey see em wid uh paper, dey ax em 'bout it en effen it ne'er been uh
+ticke', dey mighty apt to gi'e em uh good t'rashin'."
+
+"Dey tell me some uv de colored peoples use'er take t'ing from dey
+Massa, but I ain' ne'er see em do none uv dat on my white folks
+plantation. Ne'er hadder take nuthin dere. Ge' 'nough meal en meat dere
+to de big house eve'y Friday to las' em aw t'rough de week. Reckon de
+ration wuz more wholesome den in dat day en time cause dey take time en
+cook dey t'ing done. Hadder cook in de fireplace. Dat how dey done. I
+'member wha' good t'ings my ole mammy use'er cook in dat spider. Jes set
+it on de coals en keep uh turnin' it 'bout wid de handle. Dere ain'
+ne'er nuthin eat no better den dat ash cake she use'er make fa we
+chillun. Yuh ain' ne'er hear tell 'bout dat. Jes ster (stir) up uh nice
+hoecake en wrap it up in oak leaves wha' right sorta wet. Den yuh rake
+uh heap uv ash togedder en lay yuh hoecake on dat en kiver it up wid
+some more ash. Yuh le' it cook right done en den yuh take it up en wash
+it offen en it ready to eat. Us chillun lub dat den."
+
+"Annuder t'ing dat eat right smart in dem days wuz dat t'ing call big
+hominy. Dey jes ge' some whole grain corn en put it in de pot en boil it
+long time. Den dey take it offen de fire en pour lye water aw o'er it.
+Dey do dat to ge' de husk offen it. Soak ash outer de fire en ge' dat
+lye water. Den dey hadder take it to de well outer in de yard en wash it
+uh heap uv time to ge' dat lye outer it. A'ter dat dey season it wid
+salt en pepper en cook it annuder time. No 'mam, dey ne'er eat it wid no
+butter. Jes drap it in de grease wha' left in de pan a'ter dey fry de
+meat en make it right brown lak. Dat de way dey cook dey big hominy."
+
+"Folks don' hab time to do t'ings in de right way lak dey use'er cause
+de world gwine too fas' dese day en time. Dese people comin' up 'bout
+heah dese days ain' gwinna ne'er quit habin' so mucha belly ache long uz
+dey ain' stop eatin' aw dem half done ration dey is eat. Coase de
+peoples wiser now but dey weaker. De peoples wuz more humble in dem
+days. When dey didn't hab no rain, dey ge' togedder en pray fa rain en
+dey ge' it too. I tellin' yuh peoples gotta work effen dey gwinna ge' to
+de right place when dey leab heah. Effen de peoples ne'er didn't go to
+chu'ch in dem days, dey stay home. Ne'er see chillun in de road on
+Sunday eve'y which uh way lak yunnah see em dese days. My pa say yuh
+mus' train up uh child in de way he oughta go en den effen dey stray
+'way, dey sho' come back a'ter while. I tellin' yuh de peoples ain' lak
+dey use'er wuz. Dey sho' wickeder en worser in dis day en time den when
+I raise up. Dey wuz more friendly den en do more favor fa peoples. It
+jes lak dis, I ain' gwinna do nobody no harm. Effen I can' do em no
+good, ain' gwinna do no harm en ain' gwinna 'buse em neither."
+
+  Source: Aunt Silva Durant, colored, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview, May 1937.
+
+
+
+
+  Project, 1885-(1)
+  Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
+  Place, Marion, S. C.
+  Date, October 21, 1937
+
+  SYLVIA DURANT
+  Ex-Slave, 72 Years
+
+
+"Well, I tell you just like it been. Dat was an unexpectin trip when you
+come here dat day en I wasn' thinkin bout much dat I had know to tell
+you. It been kind o' put me on a wonder."
+
+"You see, child, I never didn' see my grandfather cause when I was born,
+dey had done sold him away. I hear tell dat sometimes dey would take de
+wife from dey husband en another time dey would take de husband from dey
+wife en sell dem off yonder somewhe' en never didn' see dem no more
+neither. Yes, I sho know dat cause I hear my father speak bout dat
+plenty times. Yes, mam, dey sold my uncle's wife away en he never didn'
+see her no more till after freedom come en he done been married again
+den. Speculators carried my mother's first husband off en den she
+married again. Cose I was born of de second husband en dat ain' been
+yesterday."
+
+"I hear talk bout dat didn' none of de colored people have nothin in
+slavery time en heap of dem wasn' allowed to pick up a paper or nothin
+no time. Often hear dem talk dat some of de niggers was freed long time
+fore dey know bout it. Hear dem say some white folks hold dem long time
+till dey could make out to get somethin for demselves. Don' think so.
+Don' think so. No, mam, don' think so. Dey might been intended for dem
+to get somethin when dey was freed, but I never learn of nobody gettin
+nothin. Cose I often heard my father say some white folks thought more
+bout dey colored people den others en hope dem out more. Hear tell dat
+didn' none of dem have no clothes much den. No, mam, colored people won'
+bless wid no clothes much in dem days. I remember dey had to wear dese
+old big shoes, call brogans, wid brass all cross de toes here. Nobody
+don' wear nothin like dat now. Dey was coarse shoes. Some say plenty of
+de people had to go barefooted all de time in dem days. Reckon dat would
+kill de people in dis day en time. Couldn' stand nothin like dat. Yes,
+mam, see Tom Bostick walk right cross dat field many a day just as
+barefooted as he come in de world en all de ground would be covered over
+wid ice en snow. De people get after him en he say, 'Well, I had worser
+den dis to go through wid in slavery time.' Say he come up dat way en he
+never know no difference den dat he had thick shoe on his foot."
+
+"Well, you see, some of de white folks would spare dey colored people so
+much ration when dey knock off work on a Saturday to last dem till de
+next Saturday come. Hear tell dey give dem a peck of meal en a little
+molasses en a hog jowl en dat had to last dem all de week. Dem what use
+a little tobacco, give dem a plug of dat en give dem a little flour for
+Sunday. Didn' nobody have to work on Sunday en den dey would allow dem
+two days off for Christmas too. I tellin you bout how my white folks
+would do, but dem what had a rough Massa, dey just got one day. I hear
+dem say dey always had a little flour on Christmas. Don' know what else
+dey give dem, but won' nothin much. I know dat. Sho know dat."
+
+"I hear say two intelligent people didn' live so far apart en one never
+treat dey colored people right en being as dey wasn' allowed to go from
+one place to another widout dey had a ticket wid dem, dey would steal
+somethin en run away. Say de just man tell dat other man dat if he would
+feed his niggers right, dey wouldn' have no need to be stealin so much
+things. No'um, I does hate to tell dat. Cose dey say dey done it. Say de
+overseer would beat dem up dat never do what he tell dem to do mighty
+bad en wouldn' be particular bout whe' dey was buried neither. Hear talk
+dat dey bury heap of dem in a big hole down side de woods somewhe'. Cose
+I don' know whe' dat word true or not, but dat what dey tell me."
+
+"Oo--oo--yes, mam, dey sho whip de colored women in dem days. Yes, mam,
+de overseer done it cause I hear dem say dat myself. Tell dat dey take
+de wives en whip de blood out dem en de husband never didn' dare to say
+nothin. Hear dey whip some so bad dey had to grease dem. If de colored
+people didn' do to suit de white folks, dey sho whip dem. No, mam, if
+dey put you out to work, ain' nobody think dey gwine lay down under de
+bresh (brush) en stay dere widout doin dey portion of work. Yes, child,
+hear bout dat more times, den I got fingers en toes."
+
+"Oh, de times be worser in a way dese days. Yes, mam, dey sho worser in
+a way. De people be wiser now den what dey used to be, but dere so much
+gwine on, dey ain' thinkin bout dey welfare no time en dat'll shorten
+anybody days. Oh, honey, we livin in a fast world dese days. Peoples
+used to help one another out more en didn' somebody be tryin to pull you
+down all de time. When you is found a wicked one in dat day en time, it
+been a wicked one. Cose de people be more intelligent in learnin dese
+days, but I'm tellin you dere a lot of other things got to build you up
+'sides learnin. Dere one can get up to make a speech what ain' got no
+learnin en dey can just preach de finest kind of speech. Say dey ain'
+know one thing dey gwine say fore dey get up dere. Folks claim dem kind
+of people been bless wid plenty good mother wit. Den another time one
+dat have de learnin widout de mother wit can get up en seem like dey
+just don' know whe' to place de next word. Yes, mam, I hear dat often."
+
+"What I meant by what I say bout de wicked one? I meant when you found a
+wild one, it been a wild one for true. I mean you better not meddle wid
+one like dat cause dey don' never care what dey do. People look like dey
+used to care more for dey lives den dey do dese days. Dat what I meant,
+but you can weigh dat like you want to. You see, dere be different ways
+for people to hurt demselves."
+
+"Oh, my soul, hear talk bout dere be ghosts en hants, but I never didn'
+experience nothin like dat. Yes, mam, I hear too much of dat. Been
+hearin bout dat ever since I been in a manner grown, you may say. I hear
+people say dey see dem, but I ain' take up no time wid nothin like dat.
+I have a mind like dis, if such a thing be true, it ain' intended for
+everybody to see dem. I gwine tell you far as I know bout it. I hear
+dese old people say when anybody child born wid a caul over dey face,
+dey can always see dem things en dem what ain' born dat way, dey don'
+see dem. Cose I don' know nothin bout what dat is en I is hate to tell
+it, but I hear lot of people say dey can see hants en ghosts all time of
+a night. Yes'um, I hear de older people say dat, but I don' know whe' it
+true or no. I know I don' see nothin myself, but de wind. Don' see dat,
+but I feels it."
+
+"Oh, my God, some people believe in dat thing call conjurin, but I didn'
+never believe in nothin like dat. Never didn' understand nothin like
+dat. Hear say people could make you leave home en all dat, but I never
+couldn' see into it. Never didn' believe in it."
+
+"Yes, mam, I see plenty people wear dem dimes round dey ankle en all
+kind of things on dey body, but never didn' see my mother do nothin like
+dat. I gwine tell you it just like I got it. Hear talk dat some would
+wear dem for luck en some tote dem to keep people from hurtin dem. I got
+a silver dime in de house dere in my trunk right to dis same day dat I
+used to wear on a string of beads, but I took it off. No, mam, couldn'
+stand nothin like dat. Den some peoples keeps a bag of asafetida tied
+round dey neck to keep off sickness. Folks put it on dey chillun to keep
+dem from havin worms. I never didn' wear none in my life, but I know it
+been a good thing for people, especially chillun. Let me see, dere a
+heap of other things dat I learn bout been good for people to wear for
+sickness. Dere been nutmeg dat some people make a hole in en wear it
+round dey neck. I forget whether it been good for neuralgia or some of
+dem other body ailments, but I know it won' for no conjurin."
+
+"Honey, pa always say dat you couldn' expect no more from a child den
+you puts in dey raisin. Pa say, 'Sylvia, raise up your chillun in de
+right way en dey'll smile on you in your old age.' Honey, I don' see
+what dese people gwine expect dey chillun to turn out to be nohow dese
+days cause dey ain' got no raisin en dey ain' got no manners. I say, I
+got a feelin for de chillun cause dey parents ain' stay home enough of
+time to learn dem nothin en dey ain' been know no better. Remember when
+my parents went off en tell us to stay home, we never didn' darsen to go
+off de place. Den when dey would send us off, we know we had to be back
+in de yard fore sunup in de evenin. Yes, child, we all had to be
+obedient to our parents in dat day en time. I always was sub-obedient
+myself en I never had no trouble nowhe'. Yes, mam, when we went off
+anywhe', we ax to go en we been back de hour dey expect to see us. Yes,
+mam, chillun was more obedient den. None of us didn' sass us parents.
+Won' raise dat way. I remember when I was young, I used to tote water en
+make fire to de pot for my mother to wash plenty times. Den dey learn me
+how to use a hoe en when I was married en left home, won' nothin strange
+to me."
+
+"No, mam, I didn' have no weddin when I was married, but everything was
+pleasant en turned out all right. Yes, mam, everybody don' feel so good
+leavin home, but I felt all right, I was married over dere in Bethel M.
+E. Church en served a little cake en wine dere home afterwards en dat
+ain' no weddin. Didn' have nothin but pound cake en wine. Had three
+plain cakes. Two was cut up dere home en I remember I carried one wid me
+over Catfish dere to de Reaves place."
+
+  Source: Sylvia Durant, ex-slave, age about 72, Marion, S. C.
+          Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Oct., 1937.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives Vol. XIV. South
+Carolina, Part 1, by Various
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