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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:57:37 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:57:37 -0700 |
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diff --git a/22976-h/22976-h.htm b/22976-h/22976-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e920ba7 --- /dev/null +++ b/22976-h/22976-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10177 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Slave Narratives Volume XI, +North Carolina Narratives, Part 1, Prepared by the Federal Writers' Project of + the Works Progress Administration for the State of North Carolina. +</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: left; /* all headings not centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } +div.trans-note {border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; + margin: 3em 5%; padding: 1em; text-align: center; font-size: 75%;} + + table {margin-left: 2%; margin-right: auto;} + +/* LISTS */ +ul { position: relative; + width:40%; + margin-left:5%; + list-style-type:none;} +li { margin-top: 0.25em; + line-height: 1.2em; } + +span.ralign { position: absolute; + right: 0; + top: auto; } + + .hw {font-size: 90%; font-weight: bold; position: relative; + text-decoration: none; background-color: rgb(80%,80%,80%);} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: 75%; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 9%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .totoc {position: absolute; left: 2%; font-size: 70%; text-align: right;} /* Table of contents anchor */ + .totoi {position: relative; right: 2%; font-size: 70%; text-align: right;} /* to Table of Illustrations link */ + + ins.edcorr {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dotted black;} + ins.mycorr {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dotted black;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: left;} + .figright {float: right; clear: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 0em; padding: 0; text-align: left;} + + +/* FOOTNOTES */ + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px; margin-top:1em; clear: both;} + .footntoes h3 { margin-top: 0.5em;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 85%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: a Folk History of Slavery +in the United States, 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: a Folk History of Slavery in the United States + From Interviews with Former Slaves, North Carolina Narratives, Part 1 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #22976] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES *** + + + + +Produced by Marcia Brooks, 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</h4> + +<h4>1936-1938</h4> + +<h4>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> + +<h3><i>Illustrated with Photographs</i></h3> + +<h5>WASHINGTON 1941</h5> + + +<h2>VOLUME XI</h2> + +<h2>NORTH CAROLINA NARRATIVES</h2> + +<h2>PART I</h2> + +<h4>Prepared by<br /> +the Federal Writers' Project of<br /> +the Works Progress Administration<br /> +for the State of North Carolina</h4> + +<div class="trans-note"> +<p>Transcriber's Note:</p> + +<p>To reflect the individual character of this document, inconsistencies +in formatting have been retained.</p> + +<p>The interview headers presented here contain all information included +in the original, but may have been rearranged for readability.</p> + +<p>Some interviews were date-stamped; these dates have been added to +interview headers. Where part of date could not be determined a — has +been substituted.</p> + +<p>In general, typographical errors have been left in place to match the +original images. In the case where later editors have hand-written +corrections, and simple typographical errors have been silently corrected. +In addition, punctuation and formatting have been +made consistent, particularly the use of quotation marks. +Some corrections have been noted with a <ins class = "mycorr" title = +"Any correction">mouse hover</ins>. <span class="hw">[HW: *]</span> denotes a <ins class = "edcorr" +title = "handwritten note">Handwritten Note.</ins></p> + +<p>Added two lines to list of illustrations missing from original.</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>INFORMANTS</h2> + +<a name="toc" id="toc"></a> +<ul class="noindent"> +<li>Adams, Louisa<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></span></li> +<li>Adkins, Ida<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></span></li> +<li>Allen, Martha<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></span></li> +<li>Anderson, Joseph<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></span></li> +<li>Anderson, Mary<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></span></li> +<li>Andrews, Cornelia<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></span></li> +<li>Anngady, Mary<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></span></li> +<li>Arrington, Jane <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></span></li> +<li>Augustus, Sarah Louis<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></span></li> +<li>Austin, Charity<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></span></li> +<li style="list-style: none"><br /></li> +<li>Baker, Blount<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></span></li> +<li>Baker, Lizzie<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></span></li> +<li>Baker, Viney<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></span></li> +<li>Barbour, Charlie<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></span></li> +<li>Barbour, Mary<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></span></li> +<li>Baugh, Alice<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></span></li> +<li>Beckwith, John<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></span></li> +<li>Bectom, John C.<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></span></li> +<li>Bell, Laura<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></span></li> +<li>Blalock, Emma<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></span></li> +<li>Blount, David<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></span></li> +<li>Bobbit, Clay<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></span></li> +<li>Bobbitt, Henry<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></span></li> +<li>Bogan, Herndon<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></span></li> +<li>Boone, Andrew<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></span></li> +<li>Bost, W. L. <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></span></li> +<li>Bowe, Mary Wallace<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></span></li> +<li>Brown, Lucy<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></span></li> +<li>Burnett, Midge<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></span></li> +<li style="list-style: none"><br /> </li> +<li>Cannady, Fanny<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></span></li> +<li>Cofer, Betty<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></span></li> +<li>Coggin, John<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></span></li> +<li>Coverson, Mandy<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></span></li> +<li>Cozart, Willie<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></span></li> +<li>Crasson, Hannah<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></span></li> +<li>Crenshaw, Julia<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></span></li> +<li>Crowder, Zeb<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></span></li> +<li>Crump, Adeline<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></span></li> +<li>Crump, Bill<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></span></li> +<li>Crump, Charlie<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></span></li> +<li>Curtis, Mattie<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></span></li> +<li style="list-style: none"><br /> </li> +<li>Dalton, Charles Lee<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></span></li> +<li>Daniels, John<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></span></li> +<li>Daves, Harriet Ann<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_232">232</a></span></li> +<li>Davis, Jerry<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></span></li> +<li>Debnam, W. S.<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></span></li> +<li>Debro, Sarah<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></span></li> +<li>Dickens, Charles W.<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></span></li> +<li>Dickens, Margaret E.<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></span></li> +<li>Dowd, Rev. Squire<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></span></li> +<li>Dunn, Fannie<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></span></li> +<li>Dunn, Jennylin<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></span></li> +<li>Dunn, Lucy Ann<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></span></li> +<li>Durham, Tempie Herndon<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></span></li> +<li style="list-style: none"><br /></li> +<li>Eatman, George<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></span></li> +<li>Edwards, Doc<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></span></li> +<li>Evans, John<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></span></li> +<li style="list-style: none"><br /></li> +<li>Faucette, Lindsey<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></span></li> +<li>Flagg, Ora M.<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></span></li> +<li>Foster, Analiza<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_311">311</a></span></li> +<li>Foster, Georgianna<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_314">314</a></span></li> +<li>Freeman, Frank<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_318">318</a></span></li> +<li style="list-style: none"><br /></li> +<li>Gill, Addy<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_323">323</a></span></li> +<li>Glenn, Robert<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_328">328</a></span></li> +<li>Green, Sarah Anne<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_340">340</a></span></li> +<li>Griffeth, Dorcas<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_346">346</a></span></li> +<li>Gudger, Sarah<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></span></li> +<li style="list-style: none"><br /></li> +<li>Hall, Thomas<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_359">359</a></span></li> +<li>Hamilton, Hecter<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_363">363</a></span></li> +<li>Harris, George W.<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_370">370</a></span></li> +<li>Harris, Sarah<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_375">375</a></span></li> +<li>Hart, Cy<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_379">379</a></span></li> +<li>Haywood, Alonzo<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_382">382</a></span></li> +<li>Haywood, Barbara<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_385">385</a></span></li> +<li>Henderson, Isabell<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_389">389</a></span></li> +<li>Henry, Essex<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_393">393</a></span></li> +<li>Henry, Milly <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_399">399</a></span></li> +<li>Hews, Chaney<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_405">405</a></span></li> +<li>High, Joe<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_409">409</a></span></li> +<li>High, Susan<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_417">417</a></span></li> +<li>Hill, Kitty<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_422">422</a></span></li> +<li>Hinton, Jerry<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_427">427</a></span></li> +<li>Hinton, Martha Adeline<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_433">433</a></span></li> +<li>Hinton, Robert<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_436">436</a></span></li> +<li>Hinton, William George<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_441">441</a></span></li> +<li>Hodges, Eustace<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_446">446</a></span></li> +<li>Huggins, Alex<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_449">449</a></span></li> +<li>Hunter, Charlie H.<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_453">453</a></span></li> +<li>Hunter, Elbert<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_457">457</a></span></li> +</ul> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="toi" id="toi"></a> +<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<ul class="noindent"> +<li><span class="ralign"><u>Facing page</u></span></li> +<li style="list-style: none"><br /></li> +<li>Louisa Adams<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></span></li> +<li>Viney Baker<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></span></li> +<li>John Beckwith<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></span></li> +<li>Clay Bobbit<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></span></li> +<li>Henry Bobbitt<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></span></li> +<li>Herndon Bogan<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></span></li> +<li>W. L. Bost<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></span></li> +<li>John Coggin<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></span></li> +<li>Hannah Crasson<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></span></li> +<li>Bill Crump<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></span></li> +<li>Charlie Crump and Granddaughter<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></span></li> +<li>Harriet Ann Daves<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_232">232</a></span></li> +<li>Charles W. Dickens<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></span></li> +<li>Margaret E. Dickens<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></span></li> +<li>Rev. Squire Dowd<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></span></li> +<li>Jennylin Dunn<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></span></li> +<li>Tempie Herndon Durham<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></span></li> +<li>George Eatman<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></span></li> +<li>John Evans<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></span></li> +<li>Sarah Gudger<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></span></li> +<li>Sarah Harris<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_375">375</a></span></li> +<li>Essex Henry<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_393">393</a></span></li> +<li>Milly Henry<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_399">399</a></span></li> +<li>Joe High<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_409">409</a></span></li> +<li>Elbert Hunter<span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_457">457</a></span></li> +</ul> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> +<div class="sidenote">[320152]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Louisa Adams"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1384</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Louisa Adams</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Louisa Adams</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUL 7 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 202px;"> +<img src="images/l_adams.jpg" width="202" height="300" alt="l_adams" title="Louisa Adams" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + + +<h4>LOUISA ADAMS</h4> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> + +<p>My name is Louisa Adams. I wuz bawned in Rockingham, Richmond County, North +Carolina. I wuz eight years old when the Yankees come through. I belonged to +Marster Tom A. Covington, Sir. My mother wuz named Easter, and my father wuz +named Jacob. We were all Covingtons. No Sir, I don't know whur my mother and +father come from. Soloman wuz brother number one, then Luke, Josh, Stephen, +Asbury. My sisters were Jane, Frances, Wincy, and I wuz nex'. I 'members +grandmother. She wuz named Lovie Wall. They brought her here from same place. My +aunts were named, one wuz named Nicey, and one wuz named Jane. I picked feed for +the white folks. They sent many of the chillun to work at the salt mines, where +we went to git salt. My brother Soloman wuz sent to the salt mines. Luke looked +atter the sheep. He knocked down china berries for 'em. Dad and mammie had their +own gardens and hogs. We were compelled to walk about at night to live. We were +so hongry we were bound to steal or parish. This trait seems to be handed down +from slavery days. Sometimes I thinks dis might be so. Our food wuz bad. Marster +worked us hard and gave us nuthin. We had to use what we made in the garden to +eat. We also et our hogs. Our clothes were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> bad, and beds were sorry. We went barefooted in a +way. What I mean by that is, that we had shoes part of the time. We got one pair +o' shoes a year. When dey wored out we went barefooted. Sometimes we tied them up +with strings, and they were so ragged de tracks looked like bird tracks, where we +walked in the road. We lived in log houses daubed with mud. They called 'em the +slaves houses. My old daddy partly raised his chilluns on game. He caught +rabbits, coons, an' possums. We would work all day and hunt at night. We had no +holidays. They did not give us any fun as I know. I could eat anything I could +git. I tell you de truth, slave time wuz slave time wid us. My brother wore his +shoes out, and had none all thu winter. His feet cracked open and bled so bad you +could track him by the blood. When the Yankees come through, he got shoes.</p> + +<p>I wuz married in Rockingham. I don't 'member when Mr. Jimmie Covington, a +preacher, a white man, married us. I married James Adams who lived on a +plantation near Rockingham. I had a nice blue wedding dress. My husband wuz +dressed in kinder light clothes, best I rickerlect. It's been a good long time, +since <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: den tho'">deen.</ins></p> + +<p>I sho do 'member my Marster Tom Covington and his wife too, Emma. Da old man +wuz the very Nick. He would take what +we made and lowance us, dat is lowance it out to my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> daddy after he had made it. My father +went to Steven Covington, Marster Tom's brother, and told him about it, and his +brother Stephen made him gib father his meat back to us.</p> + +<p>My missus wuz kind to me, but Mars. Tom wuz the buger. It wuz a mighty bit +plantation. I don't know how many slaves wuz on it, there were a lot of dem do'. +Dere were overseers two of 'em. One wuz named Bob Covington and the other Charles +Covington. They were colored men. I rode with them. I rode wid 'em in the +carriage sometimes. De carriage had seats dat folded up. Bob wuz overseer in de +field, and Charles wuz carriage driver. All de plantation wuz fenced in, dat is +all de fields, wid rails; de rails wuz ten feet long. We drawed water wid a sweep +and pail. De well wuz in the yard. De mules for the slaves wuz in town, dere were +none on the plantation. Dey had 'em in town; dey waked us time de chicken crowed, +and we went to work just as soon as we could see how to make a lick wid a +hoe.</p> + +<p>Lawd, you better not be caught wid a book in yor han'. If you did, you were +sold. Dey didn't 'low dat. I kin read a little, but I can't write. I went to +school after slavery and learned to read. We didn't go to school but three or +four week a year, and learned to read.</p> + +<p>Dere wuz no church on the plantation, and we were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> not lowed to have prayer meetings. No +parties, no candy pullings, nor dances, no sir, not a bit. I 'member goin' one +time to the white folkses church, no baptizing dat I 'member. Lawd have mercy, +ha! ha! No. De pateroller were on de place at night. You couldn't travel without +a pas.</p> + +<p>We got few possums. I have greased my daddy's back after he had been whupped +until his back wuz cut to pieces. He had to work jis the same. When we went to +our houses at night, we cooked our suppers at night, et and then went to bed. If +fire wuz out or any work needed doin' around de house we had to work on Sundays. +They did not gib us Christmas or any other holidays. We had corn shuckings. I +herd 'em talkin' of cuttin de corn pile right square in two. One wud git on one +side, another on the other side and see which out beat. They had brandy at the +corn shuckin' and I herd Sam talkin' about gittin' drunk.</p> + +<p>I 'member one 'oman dying. Her name wuz Caroline Covington. I didn't go to the +grave. But you know they had a little cart used with hosses to carry her to the +grave, jist a one horse wagon, jist slipped her in there.</p> + +<p>Yes, I 'member a field song. It wuz 'Oh! come let us go where pleasure never +dies. Great fountain gone over'. Dat's one uv 'em. We had a good doctor when we +got sick. He come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> to see us. The slaves took herbs dey found in de woods. Dat's what +I do now, Sir. I got some 'erbs right in my kitchen now.</p> + +<p>When the Yankees come through I did not know anything about 'em till they got +there. Jist like they were poppin up out of de ground. One of the slaves wuz at +his master's house you know, and he said, 'The Yankees are in Cheraw, +<ins class = "edcorr" title = "South Carolina"> S. C.</ins> and the Yankees are in town'. It +didn't sturb me at tall. I wuz not afraid of de Yankees. I 'member dey went to +Miss Emma's house, and went in de smoke house and emptied every barrel of 'lasses +right in de floor and scattered de cracklings on de floor. I went dere and got +some of 'em. Miss Emma wuz my missus. Dey just killed de chickens, hogs too, and +old Jeff the dog; they shot him through the thoat. I 'member how his mouth flew +open when dey shot him. One uv 'em went into de tater bank, and we chillun wanted +to go out dere. Mother wouldn't let us. She wuz fraid uv 'em.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln freed us by the help of the Lawd, by his help. Slavery wuz +owin to who you were with. If you were with some one who wuz good and had some +feelin's for you it did tolerable well; yea, tolerable well.</p> + +<p>We left the plantation soon as de surrender. We lef' right off. We went to +goin' towards Fayetteville, North Carolina. We climbed over fences and were just +broke down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> chillun, feet sore. We had a little meat, corn meal, a tray, and mammy had a tin +pan. One night we came to a old house; some one had put wheat straw in it. We +staid there, next mornin', we come back home. Not to Marster's, but to a white +'oman named Peggy McClinton, on her plantation. We stayed there a long time. De +Yankees took everything dey could, but dey didn't give us anything to eat. Dey +give some of de 'omen shoes.</p> + +<p>I thinks Mr. Roosevelt is a fine man and he do all he can for us.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320278]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Ida Akins"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Travis Jordan</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1500</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Title:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ida Adkins Ex-slave</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ida Adkins</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>County Home, Durham, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> + +<h4>IDA ADKINS</h4> + +<h5>Ex-slave 79 years.</h5> + +<div class="trans-note"> + <p>TR note: Numerous hand written notations and additions in the following + interview (i.e. wuz to was; er to a; adding t to the contractions.) Made + changes where obvious without comment. Additions and comments were left as + notation only.</p> +</div> + +<p>I wuz bawn befo' de war. I wuz about eight years ole when de Yankee mens come +through.</p> + +<p>My mammy an' pappy, Hattie an' Jim Jeffries belonged to Marse Frank Jeffries. +Marse Frank come from Mississippi, but when I wuz bawn he an' Mis' Mary Jane wuz +livin' down herr near Louisburg in North Carolina whare dey had er big plantation +an' <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: I don'">don'</ins> know how many niggers. Marse +Frank wuz good to his niggers, 'cept <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: that he">he</ins> +never give dem ernough to eat. He worked dem hard on half rations, but he didn' +believe in all de time beatin' an' sellin' dem.</p> + +<p>My pappy worked at de stables, he wuz er good horseman, but my mammy worked at +de big house helpin' Mis' Mary Jane. Mammy worked in de weavin' room. I can see +her now settin' at de weavin' machine an' hear de pedals goin' plop, plop, as she +treaded dem wid her feets. She wuz a good weaver. I stayed 'roun' de big house +too, pickin' up chips, sweepin' de yard an' such as dat. Mis' Mary Jane wuz quick +as er whippo'-will. She had black eyes dat snapped, an' dey seed everythin'. She +could turn her head so quick dat she'd ketch you every time you tried to steal a +lump of sugar. I liked Marse Frank better den I did Mis' Mary Jane. All us little +chillun called him Big Pappy. Every time he <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: come back">went +</ins> to Raleigh he brung us niggers back some candy. He went to +Raleigh erbout twice er year. Raleigh wuz er far ways from de +plantations—near 'bout <ins class="edcorr" title="HW notation: check—appears to be about 40 miles only.">sixty miles.</ins> It always took Marse Frank +three days to make de trip. A day to go,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> er' day to stay in town, an' a day to come back. +Den he always got home in de night. Ceptn' <ins class="edcorr" title="HW addition: +when"> he</ins> rode ho'se back 'stead of de carriage, <ins class="edcorr" title="HW addition: +an'">den</ins> sometimes he got home by sun down.</p> + +<p>Marse Frank didn' go to de war. He wuz too ole. So when de Yankees come +through dey foun' him at home. When Marse Frank seed de blue coats comin' down de +road he run an' got his gun. De Yankees was on horses. I ain't never seed so many +men. Dey was thick as hornets comin' down de road in a cloud of <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: +dust">dus'.</ins> Dey come up to de house an' tied de horses +to de palin's; <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: dey was so many dey was +stan"> 'roun'</ins> de <ins class="edcorr" title="HW addition: fence"> yard </ins>. When dey +seed Marse Frank standin' on de <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: porch">po'ch</ins> + wid de gun leveled on dem, dey got mad. Time Marse Frank done shot +<ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: once a">one time</ins> a bully Yankee snatched +de gun away an' tole Marse Frank to hold up his hand. Den dey tied his hands an' +pushed him down on de floor 'side de house an' tole him dat if he <ins class="edcorr" title="HW addition: +a inch">moved</ins> dey would shoot him. Den dey went in de +house.</p> + +<p>I wuz skeered near 'bout to death, but I run in de kitchen an' got a butcher +knife, an' when de Yankees wasn' lookin', I tried to cut de rope an' set Marse +Frank free. But one of dem blue debils seed me an' come runnin'. He say:</p> + +<p>'Whut you doin', you black brat! you stinkin' little alligator bait!' He +snatched de knife from my hand an' told me to stick out my tongue, dat he wuz +gwine to cut it off. I let out a yell an' run behin' de house.</p> + +<p>Some of de Yankees was in de smoke house gettin' de meat, some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> of dem wuz at +de stables gettin' de ho'ses, an' some of dem wuz in de house gettin' de silver +an' things. I seed dem put de big silver pitcher an' tea pot in a bag. Den dey +took de knives an' fo'ks an' all de candle sticks an' platters off de side board. +Dey went in de parlor an' got de gol' clock dat wuz Mis' Mary Jane's +gran'mammy's. Den dey got all de jewelry out of Mis' Mary Jane's box.</p> + +<p>Dey went up to Mis' Mary Jane, an' while she looked at dem wid her black eyes +snappin', dey took de rings off her fingers; den dey took her gol' bracelet; dey +even took de ruby ear rings out of her ears an' de gol' comb out of her hair.</p> + +<p>I done quit peepin' in de window an' wuz standin' 'side de house when de +Yankees come out in de yard wid all de stuff dey wuz totin' off. Marse Frank wuz +still settin' on de <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: porch">po'ch</ins> floor wid +his han's tied an' couldn' do nothin'. 'Bout dat time I seed de bee gums in de +side yard. Dey wuz a whole line of gums. Little as I wuz I had a notion. I run +an' got me a long stick an' tu'ned over every one of dem gums. Den I stirred dem +bees up wid dat stick <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: 'till">'twell</ins> dey wuz +so mad I could smell de pizen. An' bees! you ain't never seed de like of bees. +Dey wuz swarmin' all over de place. Dey sailed into dem Yankees like bullets, +each one madder den de other. Dey lit on dem ho'ses <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: 'till">'twell</ins> dey +looked like dey wuz <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: alive">live</ins> +wid varmints. De ho'ses broke dey bridles an' tore down de palin's an' lit out down de road. But <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: dar">dey</ins> + runnin' wuzn' nothin' to what dem Yankees done. Dey bust out cussin', +but what did a bee keer about cuss words! Dey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> lit on dem blue coats an' every +time dey lit dey stuck in a pizen sting. De Yankee's forgot all about de meat an' +things dey done stole; dey took off down de road on <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: a">er</ins> + run, passin' de horses. De bees was right after dem in a +long line. Dey'd zoom an' zip, an' zoom an' zip, an' every time dey'd zip a +Yankee would yell.</p> + +<p>When dey'd gone Mis' Mary Jane untied Marse Frank. Den dey took all de silver, +meat an' things de Yankees lef' behin' an' buried it so if dey come back dey +couldn' fin' it.</p> + +<p>Den day called ma an' said:</p> + +<p>'Ida Lee, if you hadn't <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: turned">tu'ned</ins> +over dem bee gums dem Yankees would have toted off near 'bout everythin' fine we +got. We want to give you somethin' you can keep so' you'll always remember dis +day, an' how you run de Yankees away.'</p> + +<p>Den Mis' Mary Jane took a plain gold ring off her finger an' put it on mine. +An' I been wearin' it ever since.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="sidenote"> [320276]</div> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Martha Allen"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>402</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Martha Allen</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 7 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class="hw">HW: good short sketch</span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<h5>EX-SLAVE STORY</h5> + +<h5>An interview with Martha Allen, 78, of 1318 South Person Street, +Raleigh.</h5> + +<p>I wuz borned in Craven County seventy eight years ago. My pappa wuz named +Andrew Bryant an' my mammy wuz named Harriet. My brothers wuz John Franklin, +Alfred, an' Andrew. I ain't had no sisters. I reckon dat we is what yo' call a +general mixture case I am part Injun, part white, an' part nigger.</p> + +<p>My mammy belonged ter Tom Edward Gaskin an' she wuzn't half fed. De cook +nussed de babies while she cooked, so dat de mammies could wuck in de fiel's, an' +all de mammies done wuz stick de babies in at de kitchen do' on dere way ter de +fiel's. I'se hyard mammy say dat dey went ter wuck widout breakfast, an' dat when +she put her baby in de kitchen she'd go by de slop bucket an' drink de slops from +a long handled gourd.</p> + +<p>De slave driver wuz bad as he could be, an' de slaves got awful beatin's.</p> + +<p>De young marster sorta wanted my mammy, but she tells him no, so he chunks a +lightwood knot an' hits her on de haid wid it. Dese white mens what had babies by +nigger wimmens wuz called 'Carpet Gitters'. My father's father wuz one o' dem.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yes mam, I'se mixed plenty case my mammy's grandmaw wuz Cherokee Injun.</p> + +<p>I doan know nothin' 'bout no war, case marster carried us ter Cedar Falls, +near Durham an' dar's whar we come free.</p> + +<p>I 'members dat de Ku Klux uster go ter de Free Issues houses, strip all de +family an' whup de ole folkses. Den dey dances wid de pretty yaller gals an' goes +ter bed wid dem. Dat's what de Ku Klux wuz, a bunch of mean mens tryin' ter hab a +good time.</p> + +<p>I'se wucked purty hard durin' my life an' I done my courtin' on a steer an' +cart haulin' wood ter town ter sell. He wuz haulin' wood too on his wagin, an' +he'd beat me ter town so's dat he could help me off'n de wagin. I reckon dat dat +wuz as good a way as any.</p> + +<p>I tries ter be a good christian but I'se got disgusted wid dese young upstart +niggers what dances in de chu'ch. Dey says dat dey am truckin' an' dat de Bible +ain't forbid hit, but I reckin dat I knows dancin' whar I sees hit.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Joseph Anderson"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs. Edith S. Hibbs</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>275</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Story of Joseph Anderson</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Story of Joseph Anderson</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>113 Rankin St., Wilmington, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Edited:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs. W. N. Harriss</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<br /> +<p><ins class="mycorr" title="No Reference nor Date Stamp">[HW: Unnumbered]</ins> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> +<br /> +<h4>STORY OF JOSEPH ANDERSON</h4> + +<h5>1113 Rankin Street Wilmington, N.C.</h5> + +<p>Yes'm I was born a slave. I belong to Mr. T. C. McIlhenny who had a big rice +plantation "Eagles Nest" in Brunswick County. It was a big place. He had lots of +slaves, an' he was a good man. My mother and father died when I was fourteen. +Father died in February 1865 and my mother died of pneumonia in November 1865. My +older sister took charge of me.</p> + +<p>Interviewer: "Can you read and write?"</p> + +<p>Joseph: "Oh yes, I can write a little. I can make my marks. I can write my +name. No'm I can't read. I never went to school a day in my life. I just "picked +up" what I know."</p> + +<p>I don't remember much about slave times. I was fourteen when I was freed. +After I was freed we lived between 8th and 9th on Chestnut. We rented a place +from Dan O'Connor a real estate man and paid him $5 a month rent. I've been +married twice. First time was married by Mr. Ed Taylor, magistrate in Southport, +Brunswick County. I was married to my first wife twenty years and eight months. +Then she died. I was married again when I was seventy-five years old. I was +married to my second wife just a few years when she died.</p> + +<p>I was on the police force for a year and a half. I was elected April 6, 1895. +Mr. McIlhenny was an ole man then an' I used to go to see him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>I was a stevedore for Mr. Alexander Sprunt for sixty years.</p> + +<p>Joseph is now buying his house at 1113 Rankin Street. Rents part of it for +$8.50 a month to pay for it. He stays in one room.</p> + +<p><b>NOTE</b>: Joseph's health is none too good, making information sketchy and +incoherent.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320086]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Mary Anderson"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1905</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>MARY ANDERSON</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary Anderson</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 23 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<h4>MARY ANDERSON</h4> + +<h5>86 years of age. 17 Poole Road, R. F. D. #2. Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>My name is Mary Anderson. I was born on a plantation near Franklinton, Wake +County, N.C. May 10, 1851. I was a slave belonging to Sam Brodie, who owned the +plantation at this place. My missus' name was Evaline. My father was Alfred +Brodie and my mother was Bertha Brodie.</p> + +<p>We had good food, plenty of warm homemade clothes and comfortable houses. The +slave houses were called the quarters and the house where marster lived was +called the great house. Our houses had two rooms each and marster's house had +twelve rooms. Both the slave and white folks buildings were located in a large +grove one mile square covered with oak and hickory nut trees. Marster's house was +exactly one mile from the main Louisburg Road and there was a wide avenue leading +through the plantation and grove to marster's house. The house fronted the avenue +east and in going down the avenue from the main road you traveled directly +west.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>The plantation was very large and there were about two hundred acres of +cleared land that was farmed each year. A pond was located on the place and in +winter ice was gathered there for summer use and stored in an ice house which was +built in the grove where the other buildings were. A large hole about ten feet +deep was dug in the ground; the ice was put in that hole and covered. +<ins class="mycorr" title="HW Note in left margin is illegible.">[HW: *]</ins></p> + +<p>A large frame building was built over it. At the top of the earth there was an +entrance door and steps leading down to the bottom of the hole. Other things +besides ice were stored there. There was a still on the plantation and barrels of +brandy were stored in the ice house, also pickles, preserves and cider.</p> + +<p>Many of the things we used were made on the place. There was a grist mill, +tannery, shoe shop, blacksmith shop, and looms for weaving cloth.</p> + +<p>There were about one hundred, and sixty-two slaves on the plantation and every +Sunday morning all the children had to be bathed, dressed, and their hair combed +and carried down to marster's for breakfast. It was a rule that all the little +colored children eat at the great house every Sunday morning in order that +marster and missus could watch them eat so they could know which ones were sickly +and have them doctored.</p> + +<p>The slave children all carried a mussel shell in their hands to eat with. The +food was put on large trays and the children all gathered around and ate, dipping +up their food with their mussel shells which they used for spoons. Those who +refused to eat or those who were ailing in any way had to come back to the great +house for their meals and medicine until they were well.</p> + +<p>Marster had a large apple orchard in the Tar River low grounds and up on +higher ground and nearer the plantation house there was on one side of the road a +large plum orchard and on the other side was an orchard of peaches, cherries, +quinces and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> grapes. We picked the quinces in August and used them for +preserving. Marster and missus believed in giving the slaves plenty of fruit, +especially the children.</p> + +<p>Marster had three children, one boy named Dallas, and two girls, Bettie and +Carrie. He would not allow slave children to call his children marster and missus +unless the slave said little marster or little missus. He had four white +overseers but they were not allowed to whip a slave. If there was any whipping to +be done he always said he would do it. He didn't believe in whipping so when a +slave got so bad he could not manage him he sold him.</p> + +<p>Marster didn't quarrel with anybody, missus would not speak short to a slave, +but both missus and marster taught slaves to be obedient in a nice quiet way. The +slaves were taught to take their hats and bonnets off before going into the +house, and to bow and say, 'Good morning Marster Sam and Missus Evaline'. Some of +the little negroes would go down to the great house and ask them when it wus +going to rain, and when marster or missus walked in the grove the little Negroes +would follow along after them like a gang of kiddies. Some of the slave children +wanted to stay with them at the great house all the time. They knew no better of +course and seemed to love marster and missus as much as they did their own mother +and father. Marster and missus always used gentle means to get the children out +of their way when they bothered them and the way the children loved and trusted +them wus a beautiful sight to see.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>Patterollers were not allowed on the place unless they came peacefully and I +never knew of them whipping any slaves on marster's place. Slaves were carried +off on two horse wagons to be sold. I have seen several loads leave. They were +the unruly ones. Sometimes he would bring back slaves, once he brought back two +boys and three girls from the slave market.</p> + +<p>Sunday wus a great day on the plantation. Everybody got biscuits Sundays. The +slave women went down to marsters for their Sunday allowance of flour. All the +children ate breakfast at the great house and marster and missus gave out fruit +to all. The slaves looked forward to Sunday as they labored through the week. It +was a great day. Slaves received good treatment from marster and all his +family.</p> + +<p>We were allowed to have prayer meetings in our homes and we also went to the +white folks church.</p> + +<p>They would not teach any of us to read and write. Books and papers were +forbidden. Marster's children and the slave children played together. I went +around with the baby girl Carrie to other plantations visiting. She taught me how +to talk low and how to act in company. My association with white folks and my +training while I was a slave is why I talk like white folks.</p> + +<p>Bettie Brodie married a Dr. Webb from Boylan, Virginia. Carrie married a Mr. +Joe Green of Franklin County. He was a big southern planter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>The war was begun and there were stories of fights and freedom. The news went +from plantation to plantation and while the slaves acted natural and some even +more polite than usual, they prayed for freedom. Then one day I heard something +that sounded like thunder and missus and marster began to walk around and act +queer. The grown slaves were whispering to each other. Sometimes they gathered in +little gangs in the grove. Next day I heard it again, boom, boom, boom. I went +and asked missus 'is it going to rain?' She said, 'Mary go to the ice house and +bring me some pickles and preserves.' I went and got them. She ate a little and +gave me some. Then she said, 'You run along and play.' In a day or two everybody +on the plantation seemed to be disturbed and marster and missus were crying. +Marster ordered all the slaves to come to the great house at nine o'clock. Nobody +was working and slaves were walking over the grove in every direction. At nine +o'clock all the slaves gathered at the great house and marster and missus came +out on the porch and stood side by side. You could hear a pin drap everything was +so quiet. Then marster said, 'Good morning,' and missus said, 'Good morning, +children'. They were both crying. Then marster said, 'Men, women and children, +you are free. You are no longer my slaves. The Yankees will soon be here.'</p> + +<p>Marster and missus then went into the house got two large arm chairs put them +on the porch facing the avenue and sat down side by side and remained there +watching.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>In about an hour there was one of the blackest clouds coming up the avenue +from the main road. It was the Yankee soldiers, they finally filled the mile long +avenue reaching from marster's house to the main Louisburg road and spread out +over the mile square grove. The mounted men dismounted. The footmen stacked their +shining guns and began to build fires and cook. They called the slaves, saying, +'Your are free.' Slaves were whooping and laughing and acting like they were +crazy. Yankee soldiers were shaking hands with the Negroes and calling them Sam, +Dinah, Sarah and asking them questions. They busted the door to the smoke house +and got all the hams. They went to the ice-house and got several barrels of +brandy, and such a time. The Negroes and Yankees were cooking and eating +together. The Yankees told them to come on and join them, they were free. Marster +and missus sat on the porch and they were so humble no Yankee bothered anything +in the great house. The slaves were awfully excited. The Yankees stayed there, +cooked, eat, drank and played music until about night, then a bugle began to blow +and you never saw such getting on horses and lining up in your life. In a few +minutes they began to march, leaving the grove which was soon as silent as a +grave yard. They took marster's horses and cattle with them and joined the main +army and camped just across Cypress Creek one and one half miles from my +marster's place on the Louisburg Road.</p> + +<p>When they left the country, lot of the slaves went with them and soon there +were none of marster's slaves left. They wandered around for a year from place to +place, fed and working<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> most of the time at some other slave owner's plantation and +getting more homesick every day.</p> + +<p>The second year after the surrender our marster and missus got on their +carriage and went and looked up all the Negroes they heard of who ever belonged +to them. Some who went off with the Yankees were never heard of again. When +marster and missus found any of theirs they would say, 'Well, come on back home.' +My father and mother, two uncles and their families moved back. Also Lorenza +Brodie, and John Brodie and their families moved back. Several of the young men +and women who once belonged to him came back. Some were so glad to get back they +cried, 'cause fare had been mighty bad part of the time they were rambling around +and they were hungry. When they got back marster would say, 'Well you have come +back home have you, and the Negroes would say, 'Yes marster.' Most all spoke of +them as missus and marster as they did before the surrender, and getting back +home was the greatest pleasure of all.</p> + +<p>We stayed with marster and missus and went to their church, the Maple Springs +Baptist church, until they died.</p> + +<p>Since the surrender I married James Anderson. I had four children, one boy and +three girls.</p> + +<p>I think slavery was a mighty good thing for mother, father, me and the other +members of the family, and I cannot say anything but good for my old marster and +missus, but I can only speak for those whose conditions I have known during +slavery and since. For myself and them, I will say again, slavery was a mighty +good thing.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320280]</div> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Cornelia Andrews"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>789</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Cornelia Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Cornelia Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 7 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> + +<h4>CORNELIA ANDREWS</h4> + +<h5>An interview on May 21, 1937 with Cornelia Andrews of Smithfield, Johnston +County, who is 87 years old.</h5> + +<p>De fust marster dat I 'members wuz Mr. Cute Williams an' he wuz a good +marster, but me an' my mammy an' some of de rest of 'em wuz sold to Doctor McKay +Vaden who wuz not good ter us.</p> + +<p>Doctor Vaden owned a good-sized plantation, but he had just eight slaves. We +had plank houses, but we ain't had much food an' clothes. We wored shoes wid +wooden bottom in de winter an' no shoes in de summer. We ain't had much fun, +nothin' but candy pullin's 'bout onct a year. We ain't raised no cane but marster +buyed one barrel of 'lasses fer candy eber year.</p> + +<p>Yo' know dat dar wuz a big slave market in Smithfield dem days, dar wuz also a +jail, an' a whippin' post. I 'members a man named Rough somethin' or other, what +bought forty er fifty slaves at de time an' carried 'em ter Richmond to re-sell. +He had four big black horses hooked ter a cart, an' behind dis cart he chained de +slaves, an' dey had ter walk, or trot all de way ter Richmond. De little ones Mr. +Rough would throw up in de cart an' off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> dey'd go no'th. Dey said dat der wuz one day at +Smithfield dat three hundret slaves wuz sold on de block. Dey said dat peoples +came from fer an' near, eben from New Orleans ter dem slave sales. Dey said dat +way 'fore I wuz borned dey uster strip dem niggers start naked an' gallop' em +ober de square so dat de buyers could see dat dey warn't scarred nor +deformed.</p> + +<p>While I could 'member dey'd sell de mammies 'way from de babies, an' dere +wuzn't no cryin' 'bout it whar de marster would know 'bout it nother. Why? Well, +dey'd git beat black an' blue, dat's why.</p> + +<p>Wuz I eber beat bad? No mam, I wuzn't.</p> + +<p>(Here the daughter, a graduate of Cornell University, who was in the room +listening came forward. "Open your shirt, mammy, and let the lady judge for +herself." The old ladies eyes flashed as she sat bolt upright. She seemed +ashamed, but the daughter took the shirt off, exposing the back and shoulders +which were marked as though branded with a plaited cowhide whip. There was no +doubt of that at all.)</p> + +<p>"I wuz whupped public," she said tonelessly, "for breaking dishes an' 'bein' +slow. I wuz at Mis' Carrington's den, an' it wuz jist 'fore de close o' de war. I +wuz in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> de +kitchen washin' dishes an' I draps one. De missus calls Mr. Blount King, a +patteroller, an' he puts de whuppin' yo' sees de marks of on me. My ole missus +foun' it out an' she comed an' got me."</p> + +<p>A friend of the interviewer who was present remarked, "That must have been +horrible to say the least."</p> + +<p>"Yo' 'doan know nothin," the old Negro blazed. "Alex Heath, a slave wuz beat +ter death, hyar in Smithfield. He had stold something, dey tells me, anyhow he +wuz sentenced ter be put ter death, an' de folkses dar in charge 'cided ter beat +him ter death. Dey gib him a hundret lashes fer nine mornin's an' on de ninth +mornin' he died."</p> + +<p>"My uncle Daniel Sanders, wuz beat till he wuz cut inter gashes an' he wuz tu +be beat ter death lak Alex wuz, but one day atter dey had beat him an' throwed +him back in jail wid out a shirt he broke out an' runned away. He went doun in de +riber swamp an' de blow flies blowed de gashes an' he wuz unconscious when a +white man found him an' tuk him home wid him. He died two or three months atter +dat but he neber could git his body straight ner walk widout a stick; he jist +could drag."</p> + +<p>"I 'specks dat I doan know who my pappy wuz, maybe de stock nigger on de +plantation. My pappy an' mammy jist<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> stepped ober de broom an' course I doan know +when. Yo' knows dey ain't let no little runty nigger have no chilluns. Naw sir, +dey ain't, dey operate on dem lak dey does de male hog so's dat dey can't have no +little runty chilluns."</p> + +<p>"Some of de marsters wuz good an' some of dem wuz bad. I wuz glad ter be free +an' I lef' der minute I finds out dat I is free. I ain't got no kick a-comin' not +none at all. Some of de white folkses wuz slaves, ter git ter de United States +an' we niggers ain't no better, I reckons."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320026]</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="MARY ANNGADY"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>22,289</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>A SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>(Princess Quango Hennadonah Perceriah).</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Reference:</b></td><td align='left'><b>MARY ANNGADY</b></td><td><span + class="hw">HW: 80 years</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>George L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"OCT 25 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<h4>MARY ANNGADY</h4> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> + +<h5>(Princess Quango Hennadonah Perceriah) 1110 Oakwood Avenue, Raleigh, North +Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I was eighteen years old in 1875 but I wanted to get married so I gave my age +as nineteen. I wish I could recall some of the ole days when I was with my missus +in Orange County, playing with my brothers and other slave children.</p> + +<p>I was owned by Mr. Franklin Davis and my madam was Mrs. Bettie Davis. I and my +brother used to scratch her feet and rub them for her; you know how old folks +like to have their feet rubbed. My brother and I used to scrap over who should +scratch and rub her feet. She would laugh and tell us not to do that way that she +loved us both. Sometimes she let me sleep at her feet at night. She was plenty +good to all of the slaves. Her daughter Sallie taught me my A B C's in Webster's +Blue Back spelling Book. When I learned to Spell B-a-k-e-r, Baker, I thought that +was something. The next word I felt proud to spell was s-h-a-d-y, shady, the next +l-a-d-y, lady. I would spell them out loud as I picked up chips in the yard to +build a fire with. My missus Bettie gave me a blue back spelling book.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>My father was named James Mason, and he belonged to James Mason of Chapel +Hill. Mother and I and my four brothers belonged to the same man and we also +lived in the town. I never lived on a farm or plantation in my life. I know +nothing about farming. All my people are dead and I cannot locate any of +marster's family if they are living. Marster's family consisted of two boys and +two girls—Willie, Frank, Lucy and Sallie. Marster was a merchant, selling +general merchandise. I remember eating a lot of brown sugar and candy at his +store.</p> + +<p>My mother was a cook. They allowed us a lot of privileges and it was just one +large happy family with plenty to eat and wear, good sleeping places and nothing +to worry about. They were of the Presbyterian faith and we slaves attended Sunday +school and services at their church. There were about twelve slaves on the lot. +The houses for slaves were built just a little ways back from marster's house on +the same lot. The Negro and white children played together, and there was little +if any difference made in the treatment given a slave child and a white child. I +have religious books they gave me. Besides the books they taught me, they drilled +me in etiquette of the times and also in courtesy and respect to my superiors +until it became a habit and it was perfectly natural for me to be polite.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>The first I knew of the Yankees was when I was out in my marster's yard +picking up chips and they came along, took my little brother and put him on a +horse's back and carried him up town. I ran and told my mother about it. They +rode brother over the town a while, having fun out of him, then they brought him +back. Brother said he had a good ride and was pleased with the blue jackets as +the Yankee soldiers were called.</p> + +<p>We had all the silver and valuables hid and the Yankees did not find them, but +they went into marster's store and took what they wanted. They gave my father a +box of hardtack and a lot of meat. Father was a Christian and he quoted one of +the Commandments when they gave him things they had stolen from others. 'Thou +shalt not steal', quoth he, and he said he did not appreciate having stolen goods +given to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>I traveled with the white folks in both sections of the country, north and +south, after the <span class="u">War Between the States.</span> I kept traveling +with them and also continued my education. They taught me to recite and I made +money by reciting on many of the trips. Since the surrender I have traveled in +the north for various Charitable Negro Societies and Institutions and people +seemed very much interested in the recitation I recited called "When Malinda +Sings".</p> + +<p>The first school I attended was after the war closed. The school was located +in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and was taught by a Yankee white woman from +Philadelphia. We remained in Chapel Hill only a few years after the war ended +when we all moved to Raleigh, and I have made it my home ever since. I got the +major part of my education in Raleigh under Dr. H. M. Tupper<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" +class="fnanchor">[1]</a> who taught in the second Baptist Church, located on +Blount Street. Miss Mary Lathrop, a colored teacher from Philadelphia, was an +assistant teacher in Dr. Tupper's School. I went from there to Shaw Collegiate +Institute, which is now Shaw University.</p> + +<p>I married Aaron Stallings of Warrenton, North Carolina while at Shaw. He died +and I married Rev. Matthews Anngady of Monrovia, west coast of Africa, Liberia, +Pastor of First Church. I helped him in his work here, kept studying the works of +different authors, and lecturing and reciting. My husband, the Rev. Matthews +Anngady died, and I gave a lot of my time to the cause of Charity, and while on a +lecture tour of Massachusetts in the interest of this feature of colored welfare +for Richmond, Va., the most colorful incident of my eventful life happened when I +met Quango Hennadonah Perceriah, an Abyssinian Prince, who was traveling and +lecturing on the customs of his country and the habits of its people. Our mutual +interests caused our friendship to ripen fast and when the time of parting came, +when each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +of us had finished our work in Massachusetts, he going back to his home in New +York City and I returning to Richmond, he asked me to correspond with him. I +promised to do so and our friendship after a year's correspondence became love +and he proposed and I accepted him. We were married in Raleigh by Rev. J. J. +Worlds, pastor of the First Baptist Church, colored.</p> + +<p>P. T. Barnum had captured my husband when he was a boy and brought him to +America from Abyssinia, educated him and then sent him back to his native +country. He would not stay and soon he was in America again. He was of the +Catholic faith in America and they conferred the honor of priesthood upon him but +after he married me this priesthood was taken away and he joined the Episcopal +Church. After we were married we decided to go on an extensive lecture tour. He +had been a headsman in his own country and a prince. We took the customs of his +people and his experiences as the subject of our lectures. I could sing, play the +guitar, violin and piano, but I did not know his native language. He began to +teach me and as soon as I could sing the song <span class="u">How Firm A +Foundation</span> in his language which went this way:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ngama i-bata, Njami buyek<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wema Wemeta, Negana i<br /></span> +<span class="i1">bukek diol, di Njami,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">i-diol de Kak<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Annimix, Annimix hanci<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bata ba Satana i-bu butete<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bata ba Npjami i bunanan<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bata be satana ba laba i wa—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bata ba Njami ba laba Munonga<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>We traveled and lectured in both the north and the south and our life, while +we had to work hard, was one of happiness and contentment. I traveled and +lectured as the Princess Quango Hennadonah Perceriah, wife of the Abyssinian +Prince. I often recited the recitation written by the colored poet, Paul Lawrence +Dunbar <span class="u">When Malinda Sings</span> to the delight of our +audiences.</p> +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>The following incidents of African life were related to me by my husband +Quango Hennadonah Perceriah and they were also given in his lectures on African +customs while touring the United States.</p> + +<p>The religion of the Bakuba tribe of Abyssinia was almost wholly Pagan as the +natives believed fully in witchcraft, sorcery, myths and superstitions. The witch +doctor held absolute sway over the members of the tribe and when his reputation +as a giver of rain, bountiful crops or success in the chase was at stake the +tribes were called together and those accused by the witch doctor of being +responsible for these conditions through witchery were condemned and speedily +executed.</p> + +<p>The people were called together by the beating of drums. The witch doctor, +dressed in the most hellish garb imaginable with his body painted and poisonous +snake bone necklaces dangling from his neck and the claws of ferocious beasts, +lions, leopards and the teeth of vicious man-eating crocodiles finishing up his +adornment, sat in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> the middle of a court surrounded by the members of the tribe. In +his hand he carried a gourd which contained beads, shot, or small stones. He +began his incantations by rattling the contents of the gourd, shouting and making +many weird wails and peculiar contortions. After this had gone on for sometime +until he was near exhaustion his face assumed the expression of one in great pain +and this was the beginning of the end for some poor ignorant savage. He squirmed +and turned in different directions with his eyes fixed with a set stare as if in +expectancy when suddenly his gaze would be fixed on some member of the tribe and +his finger pointed directly at him. The victim was at once seized and bound, the +doctor's gaze never leaving him until this was done. If one victim appeased his +nervous fervor the trial was over but if his wrought-up feelings desired more his +screechings continued until a second victim was secured. He had these men put to +death to justify himself in the eyes of the natives of his tribe for his failing +to bring rain, bountiful crops and success to the tribe.</p> + +<p>The witch doctor who sat as judge seemed to have perfect control over the +savages minds and no one questioned his decisions. The persons were reconciled to +their fate and were led away to execution while they moaned and bade their +friends goodbye in the doleful savage style. Sometimes they were put on a boat, +taken out into the middle of a river and there cut to pieces with blades of grass,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +their limbs being dismembered first and thrown into the river to the crocodiles. +A drink containing an opiate was generally given the victim to deaden the pain +but often this formality was dispensed with. The victims were often cut to pieces +at the place of trial with knives and their limbs thrown out to the vultures that +almost continuously hover 'round the huts and kraals of the savage tribes of +Africa.</p> + +<p>In some instances condemned persons were burned at the stake. This form of +execution is meted out at some of the religious dances or festivities to some of +their pagan gods to atone and drive away the evil spirits that have caused +pestilences to come upon the people. The victims at these times are tortured in +truly savage fashion, being burned to death by degrees while the other members of +the tribe dance around and go wild with religious fervor calling to their gods +while the victim screeches with pain in his slowly approaching death throes. +Young girls, women, boys and men are often accused of witchcraft. One method they +used of telling whether the victim accused was innocent or guilty was to give +them a liquid poison made from the juice of several poisonous plants. If they +could drink it and live they were innocent, if they died they were guilty. In +most cases death was almost instantaneous. Some vomited the poison from their +stomachs and lived.</p> + +<p>The Bakubas sometimes resorted to cannibalism and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> my husband told me of a Bakuba +girl who ate her own mother. Once a snake bit a man and he at once called the +witch doctor. The snake was a poisonous one and the man bitten was in great pain. +The witch doctor whooped and went through several chants but the man got worse +instead of better. The witch doctor then told the man that his wife made the +snake bite him by witchery and that she should die for the act. The natives +gathered at once in response to the witch doctor's call and the woman was +executed at once. The man bitten by the snake finally died but the witch doctor +had shifted the responsibility of his failure to help the man to his wife who had +been beheaded. The witch doctor had justified himself and the incident was +closed.</p> + +<p>The tribe ruled by a King has two or more absolute rules. The Kings word is +law and he has the power to condemn any subject to death at any time without +trial. If he becomes angry or offended with any of his wives a nod and a word to +his bodyguard and the woman is led away to execution. Any person of the tribe is +subject to the King's will with the exemption of the witch doctor. Executions of +a different nature than the ones described above are common occurrences. For +general crimes the culprit after being condemned to death is placed in a chair +shaped very much like the electric chairs used in American prisons in taking the +lives of the condemned. He is then tied firmly to the chair with thongs. A pole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> made +of a green sapling is firmly implanted in the earth nearby. A thong is placed +around the neck of the victim under the chin. The sapling is then bent over and +the other end of the thong tied to the end of the sapling pole. The pole +stretches the neck to its full length and holds the head erect. Drums are +sometimes beaten to drown the cries of those who are to be killed. The +executioner who is called a headsman then walks forward approaching the chair +from the rear. When he reaches it he steps to the side of the victim and with a +large, sharp, long-bladed knife lops off the head of the criminal. The bodies of +men executed in this manner are buried in shallow holes dug about two feet deep +to receive their bodies.</p> + +<p>The rank and file of the savage tribes believe +<ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: implicitly">explicitly</ins> in the supernatural powers of the witch doctor and +his decisions are not questioned. Not even the King of the tribe raises a voice +against him. The witch doctor is crafty enough not to condemn any of the King's +household or any one directly prominent in the King's service. After an execution +everything is quiet in a few hours and the incident seems forgotten. The African +Negroes attitude towards the whole affair seems to be instinctive and as long as +he escapes he does not show any particular concern in his fellowman. His is of an +animal instinctive nature.</p> + +<p>The males of the African tribes of savages have very little respect for a +woman but they demand a whole lot of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> courtesies from their wives, beating them +unmercifully when they feel proper respect has not been shown them. The men hunt +game and make war on other tribes and the women do all the work. A savage warrior +when not engaged in hunting or war, sleeps a lot and smokes almost continuously +during his waking hours. Girls are bought from their parents while mere children +by the payment of so many cows, goats, etc. The King can take any woman of the +tribe whether married or single he desires to be his wife. The parents of young +girls taken to wife by the King of a tribe feel honored and fall on their knees +and thank the King for taking her.</p> + +<p>The prince of a tribe is born a headsman and as soon as he is able to wield a +knife he is called upon to perform the duty of cutting off the heads of criminals +who are condemned to death by the King for general crimes. Those condemned by the +witch doctor for witchcraft are executed by dismemberment or fire as described +above.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>My husband was a cannibal headsman and performed this duty of cutting off +persons heads when a boy and after being civilized in America this feature of his +early life bore so heavily upon his mind that it was instrumental in driving him +insane. By custom a prince was born a headsman and it was compulsory that he +execute criminals. He died in an insane ward of the New Jersey State +Hospital.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span + class="label">[1]</span></a> <b>Handwritten Footnote:</b> Dr. Henry M. Tupper, a Union + Army chaplain, who helped to start Shaw University in 1865.</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> +<div class="sidenote"> [320126]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Jane Arrington"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1051</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>JANE ARRINGTON</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Jane Arrington</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Geo. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 4 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<h4>JANE ARRINGTON</h4> + +<h5>84 years old 302 Fowle Street Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I ort to be able to tell sumpin cause I wus twelve years old when dey had de +surrender right up here in Raleigh. If I live to see dis coming December I will +be eighty five years old. I was born on the 18th of December 1852.</p> + +<p>I belonged to Jackson May of Nash County. I wus born on de plantation near Tar +River. Jackson May never married until I wus of a great big girl. He owned a lot +of slaves; dere were eighty on de plantation before de surrender. He married Miss +Becky Wilder, sister of Sam Wilder. De Wilders lived on a jining plantation to +where I wus borned.</p> + +<p>Jackson May had so many niggers he let Billy Williams who had a plantation +nearby have part of 'em. Marster Jackson he raised my father and bought my +mother. My mother wus named Louisa May, and my father wus named Louis May. My +mother had six chilluns, four boys and two girls. The boys were Richard, Farro, +Caeser, and Fenner. De girls Rose and Jane. Jane, dats me.</p> + +<p>We lived in log houses with stick an' dirt chimleys. They called 'em the slave +houses. We had chicken feather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> beds to sleep on an' de houses wus good warm +comfortable log houses. We had plenty of cover an' feather pillows.</p> + +<p>My grandmother on my mother's side told me a lot of stories 'bout haints and +how people run from 'em. Dey told me 'bout slaves dat had been killed by dere +marster's coming back and worryin' 'em. Ole Missus Penny Williams, before Jackson +May bought mother, treated some of de slaves mighty bad. She died an' den come +back an' nearly scared de slaves to death. Grandmother told all we chillun she +seed her an' knowed her after she been dead an' come back.</p> + +<p>John May a slave wus beat to death by Bill Stone an' Oliver May. Oliver May +wus Junius May's son. Junius May wus Jackson May's Uncle. John May come back an' +wurried both of 'em. Dey could hardly sleep arter dat. Dey said dey could hear +him hollerin' an' groanin' most all de time. Dese white men would groan in dere +sleep an' tell John to go away. Dey would say, 'Go way John, please go away'. De +other slaves wus afraid of 'em cause de ghost of John wurried 'em so bad.</p> + +<p>I wurked on de farm, cuttin' corn stalks and tendin' to cattle in slavery +time. Sometimes I swept de yards. I never got any money for my work and we didn't +have any patches. My brothers caught possums, coons and sich things an' we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> cooked 'em in +our houses. We had no parties but we had quiltin's. We went to the white folks +church, Peach Tree Church, six miles from de plantation an' Poplar Springs Church +seven miles away. Both were missionary Baptist Churches.</p> + +<p>There were no overseers on Jackson May's plantation. He wouldn't have nary +one. Billy Williams didn't have none. Dey had colored slave foremen.</p> + +<p>After wurkin' all day dere wus a task of cotton to be picked an' spun by 'em. +Dis wus two onces of cotton. Some of de slaves run away from Bill Williams when +Marster Jackson May let him have 'em to work. Dey run away an' come home. Aunt +Chaney runned away an' mother run away. Marster Jackson May kept 'em hid cause he +say dey wus not treated right. He wouldn't let 'em have 'em back no more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>I never saw a grown slave whupped or in chains and I never saw a slave sold. +Jackson May would not sell a slave. He didn't think it right. He kept 'em +together. He had eighty head. He would let other white people have 'em to wurk +for 'em sometimes, but he would not sell none of 'em.</p> + +<p>If dey caught a slave wid a book you knowed it meant a whuppin', but de white +chillun teached slaves secretey sometimes. Ole man Jake Rice a slave who belonged +to John Rice in Nash County wus teached by ole John Rice's son till he had a +purty good mount of larnin'.</p> + +<p>We did not have prayer meeting at marster's plantation or anywhur. Marster +would not allow dat.</p> + +<p>When I wus a child we played de games of three handed reels, 'Old Gray Goose', +'All Little Gal, All Little Gal, All Little Gal remember me'. We took hold of +hands an' run round as we sang dis song.</p> + +<p>We sang 'Old Dan Tucker'. Git outen de way, ole Dan Tucker, Sixteen Hosses in +one stable, one jumped out an' skined his nable an' so on.</p> + +<p>Dr. Mann and Dr. Sid Harris and Dr. Fee Mann and Dr. Mathias looked arter us +when we wus sick. Mother and de other grown folks raised herbs dat dey give us +too. Chillun took a lot of salts.</p> + +<p>Jackson May wus too rich to go to de war. Billy Williams didn't go, too rich +too, I reckons. I remember when dey said niggers had to be free. De papers said +if dey could not be freedom by good men dere would be freedom by blood. Dey +fighted an' kept on fightin' a long time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> Den de Yankees come.</p> + +<p><ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: New paragraph">I heard</ins> dem beat de drum. +Marster tole us we wus free but mother an' father stayed on with Marster. He +promised 'em sumptin, but he give 'em nothin'. When de crop wus housed dey +left.</p> + +<p>Father and mother went to Hench Stallings plantation and stayed there one +year. Then they went to Jim Webbs farm. I don't remember how long they stayed +there but round two years. They moved about an' about among the white folks till +they died. They never owned any property. They been dead 'bout thirty years.</p> + +<p>I married Sidney Arrington. He has been dead six years las' September.</p> + +<p>I am unable to do any kind of work. My arm is mighty weak.</p> + +<p>I know slavery wus a bad thing. I don't have to think anything about it. +Abraham Lincoln wus the first of us bein' free, I think he wus a man of God. I +think Roosevelt is all right man. I belongs to the Pentecostal Holiness +Church.</p> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320031]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Sarah Louise Augustus"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1426</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Sarah Louise Augustus</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Source:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Sarah Louise Augustus</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>George L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<h4>SARAH LOUISE AUGUSTUS</h4> + +<h5>Age 80 years 1424 Lane Street Raleigh, North Carolina</h5> + +<p>I wus born on a plantation near Fayetteville, N.C., and I belonged to J. B. +Smith. His wife wus named Henrietta. He owned about thirty slaves. When a slave +was no good he wus put on the auction block in Fayetteville and sold.</p> + +<p>My father wus named Romeo Harden and my mother wus named Alice Smith. The +little cabin where I wus born is still standing.</p> + +<p>There wus seven children in marster's family, four girls and two boys. The +girls wus named Ellen, Ida, Mary and Elizabeth. The boys wus named Harry, Norman +and Marse George. Marse George went to the war. Mother had a family of four +girls. Their names wus: Mary, Kate, Hannah and myself, Sarah Louise. I am the +only one living and I would not be living but I have spent most of my life in +white folk's houses and they have looked after me. I respected myself and they +respected me.</p> + +<p>My first days of slavery wus hard. I slept on a pallet on the floor of the +cabin and just as soon as I wus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> able to work any at all I wus put to milking +cows.</p> + +<p>I have seen the paterollers hunting men and have seen men they had whipped. +The slave block stood in the center of the street, Fayetteville Street, where +Ramsey and Gillespie Street came in near Cool Springs Street. The silk mill stood +just below the slave market. I saw the silkworms that made the silk and saw them +gather the cocoons and spin the silk.</p> + +<p>They hung people in the middle of Ramsey Street. They put up a gallows and +hung the men exactly at 12 o'clock.</p> + +<p>I ran away from the plantation once to go with some white children to see a +man hung.</p> + +<p>The only boats I remember on the Cape Fear wus the Governor Worth, The Hurt, +The Iser and The North State. Oh! Lord yes, I remember the stage coach. As many +times as I run to carry the mail to them when they come by! They blew a horn +before they got there and you had to be on time 'cause they could not wait. There +wus a stage each way each day, one up and one down.</p> + +<p>Mr. George Lander had the first Tombstone Marble yard in Fayetteville on Hay +Street on the point of Flat Iron place. Lander wus from Scotland. They gave me a pot,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> a +scarf, and his sister gave me some shells. I have all the things they gave me. My +missus, Henrietta Smith, wus Mr. Lander's sister. I waited on the Landers part of +the time. They were hard working white folks, honest, God fearing people. The +things they gave me were brought from over the sea.</p> + +<p>I can remember when there wus no hospital in Fayetteville. There wus a little +place near the depot where there wus a board shanty where they operated on +people. I stood outside once and saw the doctors take a man's leg off. Dr. +McDuffy wus the man who took the leg off. He lived on Hay Street near the Silk +Mill.</p> + +<p>When one of the white folks died they sent slaves around to the homes of their +friends and neighbors with a large sheet of paper with a piece of black crepe +pinned to the top of it. The friends would sign or make a cross mark on it. The +funerals were held at the homes and friends and neighbors stood on the porch and +in the house while the services were going on. The bodies were carried to the +grave after the services in a black hearse drawn by black horses. If they did not +have black horses to draw the hearse they went off and borrowed them. The colored +people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> washed and shrouded the dead bodies. My grandmother wus one who did this. Her +name wus Sarah McDonald. She belonged to Capt. George McDonald. She had fifteen +children and lived to be one hundred and ten years old. She died in Fayetteville +of pneumonia. She wus in Raleigh nursing the Briggs family, Mrs. F. H. Briggs' +family. She wus going home to Fayetteville when she wus caught in a rain storm at +Sanford, while changing trains. The train for Fayetteville had left as the train +for Sanford wus late so she stayed wet all night. Next day she went home, took +pneumonia and died. She wus great on curing rheumatism; she did it with herbs. +She grew hops and other herbs and cured many people of this disease.</p> + +<p>She wus called black mammy because she wet nursed so many white children. In +slavery time she nursed all babies hatched on her marster's plantation and kept +it up after the war as long as she had children.</p> + +<p>Grandfather wus named Isaac Fuller. Mrs. Mary Ann Fuller, Kate Fuller, Mr. +Will Fuller, who wus a lawyer in Wall Street, New York, is some of their white +folks. The Fullers were born in Fayetteville. One of the slaves, Dick McAlister, +worked, saved a small fortune and left it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> to Mr. Will Fuller. People thought the slave +ought to have left it to his sister but he left it to Mr. Will. Mr. Fuller gives +part of it to the ex-slaves sister each year. Mr. Will always helped the Negroes +out when he could. He was good to Dick and Dick McAlister gave him all his +belongings when he died.</p> + +<p>The Yankees came through Fayetteville wearing large blue coats with capes on +them. Lots of them were mounted, and there were thousands of foot soldiers. It +took them several days to get through town. The Southern soldiers retreated and +then in a few hours the Yankees covered the town. They busted into the smokehouse +at marstar's, took the meat, meal and other provisions. Grandmother pled with the +Yankees but it did no good. They took all they wanted. They said if they had to +come again they would take the babies from the cradles. They told us we were all +free. The Negroes begun visiting each other in the cabins and became so excited +they began to shout and pray. I thought they were all crazy.</p> + +<p>We stayed right on with marster. He had a town house and a big house on the +plantation. I went to the town house to work, but mother and grandmother stayed +on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> the plantation. My mother died there and the white folks buried her. Father stayed +right on and helped run the farm until he died. My uncle, Elic Smith, and his +family stayed too. Grandfather and grandmother after a few years left the +plantation and went to live on a little place which Mrs. Mary Ann Fuller gave +them. Grandmother and grandfather died there.</p> + +<p>I wus thirty years old when I married. I wus married in my missus' graduating +dress. I wus married in the white folks' church, to James Henry Harris. The white +folks carried me there and gave me away. Miss Mary Smith gave me away. The +wedding wus attended mostly by white folks.</p> + +<p>My husband wus a fireman on the Cape Fear river boats and a white man's Negro +too. We had two children, both died while little. My husband and I spent much of +our time with the white folks and when he wus on his runs I slept in their homes. +Often the children of the white families slept with me. We both tried to live up +to the standards of decency and honesty and to be worthy of the confidence placed +in us by our white folks.</p> + +<p>My husband wus finally offered a job with a shipping concern in Deleware and +we moved there. He wus fireman on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> the freighter Wilmington. He worked there three +years, when he wus drowned. After his death I married David Augustus and +immediately came back to North Carolina and my white folks, and we have been here +ever since. I am a member of several Negro Lodges and am on the Committee for the +North Carolina Colored State Fair.</p> + +<p>There are only a few of the old white folks who have always been good to me +living now, but I am still working with their offspring, among whom I have some +mighty dear friends. I wus about eight years old when Sherman's Army came +through. Guess I am about eighty years of age now.</p> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320261]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Charity Austin"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>908</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>A Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Charity Austin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 26 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<h4>CHARITY AUSTIN</h4> + +<h5>507 South Bloodworth Street, Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I wus borned in the year 1852, July 27. I wus born in Granville County, sold +to a slave speculator at ten years old and carried to Southwest, Georgia. I +belonged to Samuel Howard. His daughter took me to Kinston, North Carolina and I +stayed there until I wus sold. She married a man named Bill Brown, and her name +wus Julia Howard Brown. My father wus named Paul Howard and my mother wus named +Chollie Howard. My old missus wus named Polly Howard.</p> + +<p>John Richard Keine from Danville, Virginia bought me and sent me to a +plantation in Georgia. We only had a white overseer there. He and his wife and +children lived on the plantation. We had slave quarters there. Slaves were bought +up and sent there in chains. Some were chained to each other by the legs, some by +the arms. They called the leg chains shackles. I have lived a hard life. I have +seen mothers sold away from their babies and other children, and they cryin' when +she left. I have seen husbands sold from their wives, and wives sold from their +husbands.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln came through once, but none of us knew who he wus. He wus just +the raggedest man you ever saw.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> The white children and me saw him out at the +railroad. We were settin' and waitin' to see him. He said he wus huntin' his +people; and dat he had lost all he had. Dey give him somethin' to eat and tobacco +to chew, and he went on. Soon we heard he wus in de White House then we knew who +it wus come through. We knowed den it wus Abraham Lincoln.</p> + +<p>We children stole eggs and sold 'em durin' slavery. Some of de white men +bought 'em. They were Irishmen and they would not tell on us. Their names were +Mulligan, Flanagan and Dugan. They wore good clothes and were funny mens. They +called guns flutes.</p> + +<p>Boss tole us Abraham Lincoln wus dead and we were still slaves. Our boss man +bought black cloth and made us wear it for mourning for Abraham Lincoln and tole +us that there would not be freedom. We stayed there another year after freedom. A +lot o' de niggers knowed nothin' 'cept what missus and marster tole us. What dey +said wus just de same as de Lawd had spoken to us.</p> + +<p>Just after de surrender a nigger woman who wus bad, wus choppin' cotton at out +plantation in Georgie. John Woodfox wus de main overseer and his son-in-law wus a +overseer. Dey had a colored man who dey called a nigger driver. De nigger driver +tole de overseer de woman wus bad. De overseer came to her, snatched de hoe from +her and hit her. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> blow killed her. He was reported to de Freedman's Bureau. Dey +came, whupped de overseer and put him in jail. Dey decided not to kill him, but +made him furnish de children of de dead woman so much to live on. Dere wus a +hundred or more niggers in de field when this murder happened.</p> + +<p>We finally found out we were free and left. Dey let me stay with Miss Julia +Brown. I was hired to her. She lived in Dooley County, Georgia. I next worked +with Mrs. Dunbar after staying with Mrs. Brown four years. Her name wus Mrs. +Winnie Dunbar and she moved to Columbia, South Carolina takin' me with her. I +stayed with her about four years. This wus the end of my maiden life. I married +Isaac Austin of Richmond County, Georgia. He wus a native of Warrenton County and +he brought me from his home in Richmond County, Georgia to Warrenton and then +from Warrenton to Raleigh. I had two brothers and thirteen sisters. I did general +house work, and helped raise children during slavery, and right after de war. +Then you had to depend on yourself to do for children. You had to doctor and care +for them yourself. You just had to depend on yourself.</p> + +<p>Dey had 320 acres o' cleared fields in Georgia and then de rice fields, I just +don't know how many acres. I have seen jails for slaves. Dey had a basement for a +jail in Georgia and a guard at de holes in it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>No, No! you better not be caught tryin' to do somethin' wid a book. Dey would +teach you wid a stick or switch. De slaves had secret prayer meetin's wid pots +turned down to kill de soun' o' de singin'. We sang a song, 'I am glad +salvation's free.' Once dey heard us, nex' mornin' dey took us and tore our backs +to pieces. Dey would say, 'Are you free? What were you singin' about freedom?' +While de niggers were bein' whupped they said, 'Pray, marster, pray.'</p> + +<p>The doctor came to see us sometimes when we were sick, but not after. People +just had to do their own doctorin'. Sometimes a man would take his patient, and +sit by de road where de doctor travelled, and when he come along he would see +him. De doctor rode in a sully drawn by a horse. He had a route, one doctor to +two territories.</p> + +<p>When de white folks were preparing to go to de war they had big dinners and +speakin'. Dey tole what dey were goin' to do to Sherman and Grant. A lot of such +men as Grant and Sherman and Lincoln came through de South in rags and were at +some o' dese meetings, an' et de dinners. When de white folks foun' it out, dere +wus some sick folks. Sometimes we got two days Christmas and two days July. When +de nigger wus freed dey didn't know where to go and what to do. It wus hard, but +it has been hard since. From what de white folks, marster and missus tole us we +thought Lincoln wus terrible. By what mother and father tole me I thought he wus +all right. I think Roosevelt wus put in by God to do the right things.</p> + +<p><small>EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320012]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Blount Baker"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>367</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>BLOUNT BAKER</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Blount Baker</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"SEP 10 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<h4>BLOUNT BAKER</h4> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> + +<h5>An interview with Blount Baker, 106 Spruce Street, Wilson, North +Carolina.</h5> + +<p>Yes'um, I 'longed ter Marse Henry Allen of Wilson County an' we always raise +terbacker. Marse Henry wus good ter us so we had a heap of prayer meetin's an' +corn shuckin's an' such.</p> + +<p>I 'members de big meetin's dat we'd have in de summer time an' dat good +singin' we'd have when we'd be singin' de sinners through. We'd stay pretty nigh +all night to make a sinner come through, an' maybe de week atter de meetin' he'd +steal one of his marster's hogs. Yes'um, I'se had a bad time.</p> + +<p>You know, missy, dar ain't no use puttin' faith in nobody, dey'd fool you ever +time anyhow. I know once a patteroller tol' me dat iffen I'd give him a belt I +found dat he'd let me go by ter see my gal dat night, but when he kotch me dat +night he whupped me. I tol' Marse Henry on him too so Marse Henry takes de belt +away from him an' gives me a possum fer hit. Dat possum shore wus good too, baked +in de ashes like I done it.</p> + +<p>I ain't never hear Marse Henry cuss but once an' dat wus de time dat some +gentlemens come ter de house an' sez dat dar am a war 'twixt de north an' de +south. He sez den, 'Let de damn yaller bellied Yankees come on an' we'll give 'em +hell an' sen' dem a-hoppin' back ter de north in a hurry.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>We ain't seed no Yankees 'cept a few huntin' Rebs. Dey talk mean ter us an' +one of dem says dat we niggers am de cause of de war. 'Sir,' I sez, 'folks what +am a wantin' a war can always find a cause'. He kicks me in de seat of de pants +fer dat, so I hushes.</p> + +<p>I stayed wid Marse Henry till he died den I moved ter Wilson. I has worked +everwhere, terbacker warehouses an' ever'thing. I'se gittin' of my ole age +pension right away an' den de county won't have ter support me no mo', dat is if +dey have been supportin' me on three dollars a month.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320244]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Lizzie Baker"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>745</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>LIZZIE BAKER</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Lizzie Baker</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<h4>LIZZIE BAKER</h4> + +<h5>424 Smith Street</h5> + +<p>I was born de las' year o' de surrender an'course I don't remember seein' any +Yankee soldiers, but I knows a plenty my mother and father tole me. I have +neuritis, an' have been unable to work any fer a year and fer seven years I +couldn't do much.</p> + +<p>My mother wus named Teeny McIntire and my father William McIntire. Mammy +belonged to Bryant Newkirk in Duplin County. Pap belonged to someone else, I +don't know who.</p> + +<p>Dey said dey worked from light till dark, and pap said dey beat him so bad he +run away a lot o' times. Dey said de paterollers come to whare dey wus havin' +prayer meetin' and beat 'em.</p> + +<p>Mammy said sometimes dey were fed well and others dey almost starved. Dey got +biscuit once a week on Sunday. Dey said dey went to de white folks's church. Dey +said de preachers tole 'em dey had to obey dere missus and marster. My mammy said +she didn't go to no dances 'cause she wus crippled. Some o' de help, a colored +woman, stole something when she wus hongry. She put it off on mother and missus +made mother wear trousers for a year to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> punish her.</p> + +<p>Mammy said dey gave de slaves on de plantation one day Christmas and dat New +Years wus when dey sold 'em an' hired 'em out. All de slaves wus scared 'cause +dey didn't know who would have to go off to be sold or to work in a strange +place. Pap tole me 'bout livin' in de woods and 'bout dey ketchin' him. I 'member +his owner's name den, it wus Stanley. He run away so bad dey sold him several +times. Pap said one time dey caught him and nearly beat him to death, and jest as +soon as he got well and got a good chance he ran away again.</p> + +<p>Mammy said when de Yankees come through she wus 'fraid of 'em. De Yankees tole +her not to be 'fraid of 'em. Dey say to her, 'Do dey treat you right', Mammy said +'Yes sir', 'cause ole missus wus standin' dere, an' she wus 'fraid not to say +yes. Atter de war, de fust year atter de surrender dey moved to James Alderman's +place in Duplin County and stayed dere till I wus a grown gal.</p> + +<p>Den we moved to Goldsboro. Father wus a carpenter and he got a lot of dat +work. Dat's what he done in Goldsboro. We come from Goldsboro to Raleigh and we +have lived here every since. We moved here about de year o' de shake and my +mother died right here in Raleigh de year o' de shake. Some of de things mother +tole me 'bout slavery, has gone right out of my min'. Jes comes and goes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p>I remember pap tellin' me' bout stretchin' vines acrost roads and paths to +knock de patterollers off deir horses when dey were tryin' to ketch slaves. Pap +and mammy tole me marster and missus did not 'low any of de slaves to have a book +in deir house. Dat if dey caught a slave wid a book in deir house dey whupped +'em. Dey were keerful not to let 'em learn readin' and writin'.</p> + +<p>Dey sold my sister Lucy and my brother Fred in slavery time, an' I have never +seen 'em in my life. Mother would cry when she was tellin' me 'bout it. She never +seen 'em anymore. I jes' couldn't bear to hear her tell it widout cryin'. Dey +were carried to Richmond, an' sold by old marster when dey were chillun.</p> + +<p>We tried to get some news of brother and sister. Mother kept 'quiring 'bout +'em as long as she lived and I have hoped dat I could hear from 'em. Dey are dead +long ago I recons, and I guess dare aint no use ever expectin' to see 'em. +Slavery wus bad and Mr. Lincoln did a good thing when he freed de niggers. I +caint express my love for Roosevelt. He has saved so many lives. I think he has +saved mine. I want to see him face to face. I purely love him and I feel I could +do better to see him and tell him so face to face.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320182]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Viney Baker"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>339</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>VINEY BAKER</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Viney Baker</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 215px;"> +<img src="images/v_baker.jpg" width="215" height="300" alt="v_baker" title="Viney Baker" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + +<h4>VINEY BAKER</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story</h5> + +<h5>An interview with Viney Baker 78 of S. Harrington Street, Raleigh.</h5> + +<p>My mammy wuz Hannah Murry an' so fur as I know I ain't got no father, do' I +reckon dat he wuz de plantation stock nigger. I wuz borned in Virginia as yo' +mought say ter my marster Mr. S. L. Allen.</p> + +<p>We moved when I wuz little ter Durham County whar we fared bad. We ain't had +nothin' much ter eat an' ter w'ar. He had a hundert slaves an' I reckon five +hundert acres o' lan'. He made us wuck hard, de little ones included.</p> + +<p>One night I lay down on de straw mattress wid my mammy, an' de nex' mo'nin' I +woked up an' she wuz gone. When I axed 'bout her I fin's dat a speculator comed +dar de night before an' wanted ter buy a 'oman. Dey had come an' got my mammy +widout wakin' me up. I has always been glad somehow dat I wuz asleep.</p> + +<p>Dey uster tie me ter a tree an' beat me till de blood run down my back, I doan +'member nothin' dat I done,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> I jist 'members de whuppin's. Some of de rest wuz +beat wuser dan I wuz too, an' I uster scream dat I wuz sho' dyin'.</p> + +<p>Yes'um I seed de Yankees go by, but dey ain't bodder us none, case dey knows +dat 'hind eber' bush jist about a Confederate soldier pints a gun.</p> + +<p>I warn't glad at de surrender, case I doan understand hit, an' de Allen's +keeps me right on, an' whups me wuser den dan eber.</p> + +<p>I reckon I wuz twelve years old when my mammy come ter de house an' axes Mis' +Allen ter let me go spen' de week en' wid her. Mis' Allen can't say no, case +Mammy mought go ter de carpet baggers so she lets me go fer de week-en'. Mammy +laughs Sunday when I says somethin' 'bout goin' back. Naw, I stayed on wid my +mammy, an' I ain't seed Mis' Allen no mo'.</p> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320151]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Charlie Barbour"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>733</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>EX-SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Charlie Barbour</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 7 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class="hw">A (circled)</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An interview on May 20, 1937 with Charlie Barbour, 86 of Smithfield, N.C. +Johnston County.</h5> + +<p>I belonged ter Mr. Bob Lumsford hyar in Smithfield from de time of my birth. +My mammy wuz named Candice an' my pappy's name wuz Seth. My brothers wuz Rufus, +William an' George, an' my sisters wuz Mary an' Laura.</p> + +<p>I 'minds me of de days when as a <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: youngun'">youngin' +</ins>I played marbles an' hide an' seek. Dar wuzn't many games den, +case nobody ain't had no time fer 'em. De grown folkses had dances an' sometimes +co'n shuckin's, an' de little niggers patted dere feets at de dances an' dey he'p +ter shuck de co'n. At Christmas we had a big dinner, an' from den through New +Year's Day we feast, an' we dance, an' we sing. De fust one what said Christmas +gift ter anybody else got a gif', so of cou'se we all try ter ketch de +marster.</p> + +<p>On de night 'fore de first day of Jinuary we had a dance what lasts all night. +At midnight when de New Year comes in marster makes a speech an' we is happy dat +he thanks us fer our year's wuck an' says dat we is good, smart slaves.</p> + +<p>Marster wucked his niggers from daylight till dark, an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> his thirteen +grown slaves had ter ten' 'bout three hundred acres o' land. Course dey mostly +planted co'n, peas an' vege'ables.</p> + +<p>I can 'member, do' I wuz small, dat de slaves wuz whupped fer disobeyin' an' I +can think of seberal dat I got. I wuz doin' housewuck at de time an' one of de +silber knives got misplaced. Dey 'cused me of misplacin' it on purpose, so I got +de wust beatin' dat I eber had. I wuz beat den till de hide wuz busted hyar an' +dar.</p> + +<p>We little ones had some time ter go swimmin' an' we did; we also fished, an' +at night we hunted de possum an' de coon sometimes. Ole Uncle Jeems had some +houn's what would run possums or coons an' he uster take we boys 'long wid +him.</p> + +<p>I 'members onct de houn's struck a trail an' dey tree de coon. Uncle Jeems +sen's Joe, who wuz bigger den I wuz, up de tree ter ketch de coon an' he warns +him dat coons am fightin' fellers. Joe doan pay much mind he am so happy ter git +der chanct ter ketch de coon, but when he ketched dat coon he couldn't turn +loose, an' from de way he holler yo' would s'pose dat he ain't neber wanted ter +ketch a coon. When Joe Barbour wuz buried hyar las' winter dem coon marks wuz +still strong on his arms an' han's an' dar wuz de long scar on his face.</p> + +<p>I 'members onct a Yankee 'oman from New York looks at him an' nigh 'bout +faints. 'I reckon', says she, dat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> am what de cruel slave owner or driver done ter +him'.</p> + +<p>Yes mam, I knows when de Yankees comed ter Smithfield. Dey comed wid de +beatin' of drums an' de wavin' of flags. Dey says dat our governor wuz hyar +makin' a speech but he flewed 'fore dey got hyar. Anyhow, we libed off from de +main path of march, an' so we ain't been trouble so much 'cept by 'scootin' +parties, as my ole missus call' em.</p> + +<p>Dey am de darndest yo' eber seed, dey won't eat no hog meat 'cept hams an' +shoulders an' dey goes ter de smoke house an' gits 'em 'thout no permission. Dey +has what dey calls rammin' rods ter dere guns an' dey knock de chickens in de +haid wid dat. I hyard dem say dat dar warn't no use wastin' powder on dem +chickens.</p> + +<p>Dey went ober de neighborhood stealin' an' killin' stock. I hyard 'bout 'em +ketchin' a pig, cuttin' off his hams an' leave him dar alive. De foun' all de +things we done hid, not dat I thinks dat dey am witches, but dat dey has a money +rod, an' 'cides dat some of de slaves tol' 'em whar marster had hid de +things.</p> + +<p>Yes 'um, I reckon I wuz glad ter git free, case I knows den dat I won't wake +up some mornin' ter fin' dat my mammy or some ob de rest of my family am done +sold. I left de day I hyard 'bout de surrender an' I fared right good too, do' I +knows dem what ain't farin' so well.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>I ain't neber learn ter read an' write an' I knows now dat I neber will. I +can't eben write a letter ter Raleigh 'bout my ole man's pension.</p> + +<p>I 'members de days when mammy wored a blue hankerchief 'round her haid an' +cooked in de great house. She'd sometimes sneak me a cookie or a cobbler an' +fruits. She had her own little gyardin an' a few chickens an' we w'oud ov been +happy 'cept dat we wuz skeered o' bein' sold.</p> + +<p>I'se glad dat slavery am ober, case now de nigger has got a chanct ter live +an' larn wid de whites. Dey won't neber be as good as de whites but dey can larn +ter live an' enjoy life more.</p> + +<p>Speakin' 'bout de Ku Klux dey ain't do nothin' but scare me back in '69, but +iffen we had some now I thinks dat some of dese young niggers what has forgot +what dey mammies tol' 'em would do better.</p> + +<p><small>MH:EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320249]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Mary Barbour"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>678</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>MARY BARBOUR</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary Barbour</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<h5>MARY BARBOUR</h5> + +<h4>Ex-Slave Story</h4> + +<h4>An interview with Mary Barbour 81 of 801 S. Bloodworth Street, Raleigh, +N.C.</h4> + +<p>I reckon dat I wuz borned in McDowell County, case dat's whar my mammy, Edith, +lived. She 'longed ter Mr. Jefferson Mitchel dar, an' my pappy 'longed ter er Mr. +Jordan in Avery County, so he said.</p> + +<p>'Fore de war, I doan know nothin' much 'cept dat we lived on a big plantation +an' dat my mammy wucked hard, but wuz treated pretty good.</p> + +<p>We had our little log cabin off ter one side, an' my mammy had sixteen +chilluns. Fas' as dey got three years old de marster sol' 'em till we las' four +dat she had wid her durin' de war. I wuz de oldes' o' dese four; den dar wuz +Henry an' den de twins, Liza an' Charlie.</p> + +<p>One of de fust things dat I 'members wuz my pappy wakin' me up in de middle o' +de night, dressin' me in de dark, all de time tellin' me ter keep quiet. One o' +de twins hollered some an' pappy put his hand ober its mouth ter keep it +quiet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>Atter we wuz dressed he went outside an' peeped roun' fer a minute den he +comed back an' got us. We snook out o' de house an' long de woods path, pappy +totin' one of de twins an' holdin' me by de han' an' mammy carryin' de udder +two.</p> + +<p>I reckons dat I will always 'member dat walk, wid de bushes slappin' my laigs, +de win' sighin' in de trees, an' de hoot owls an' whippoorwills hollerin' at each +other frum de big trees. I wuz half asleep an' skeered stiff, but in a little +while we pass de plum' thicket an' dar am de mules an' wagin.</p> + +<p>Dar am er quilt in de bottom o' de wagin, an' on dis dey lays we youngins. An' +pappy an' mammy gits on de board cross de front an' drives off down de road.</p> + +<p>I wuz sleepy but I wuz skeered too, so as we rides 'long I lis'ens ter pappy +an' mammy talk. Pappy wuz tellin' mammy 'bout de Yankees comin' ter dere +plantation, burnin' de co'n cribs, de smokehouses an' 'stroyin' eber'thing. He +says right low dat dey done took marster Jordan ter de Rip Raps down nigh +Norfolk, an' dat he stol' de mules an' wagin an' 'scaped.</p> + +<p>We wuz skeerd of de Yankees ter start wid, but de more we thinks 'bout us +runnin' way frum our marsters de skeerder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> we gits o' de Rebs. Anyhow pappy says dat we is +goin' ter jine de Yankees.</p> + +<p>We trabels all night an' hid in de woods all day fer a long time, but atter +awhile we gits ter Doctor Dillard's place, in Chowan County. I reckons dat we +stays dar seberal days.</p> + +<p>De Yankees has tooked dis place so we stops ober, an' has a heap o' fun +dancin' an' sich while we am dar. De Yankees tells pappy ter head fer New Bern +an' dat he will be took keer of dar, so ter New Bern we goes.</p> + +<p>When we gits ter New Bern de Yankees takes de mules an' wagin, dey tells pappy +something, an' he puts us on a long white boat named Ocean Waves an' ter Roanoke +we goes.</p> + +<p>Later I larns dat most o' de reffes<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> is put in +James City, nigh New Bern, but dar am a pretty good crowd on Roanoke. Dar wuz +also a ole Indian Witch 'oman dat I 'members.</p> + +<p>Atter a few days dar de Ocean Waves comes back an' takes all ober ter New +Bern. My pappy wuz a shoemaker, so he makes Yankee boots, an' we gits 'long +pretty good.</p> + +<p>I wuz raised in New Bern an' I lived dar till forty years ago when me an' my +husban' moved ter Raleigh an' do' he's been daid a long time I has lived hyar +<ins class="edcorr" title="eber">ober</ins> since an' eben if'en I is eighty-one years old I can still +outwuck my daughter an' de rest of dese young niggers.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span + class="label">[2]</span></a> refugees</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320162]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Alice Baugh"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>927</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Plantation Times</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Alice Baugh</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<h4>PLANTATION TIMES</h4> + +<h5>An Interview on May 18, 1937 with Alice Baugh, 64, who remembers hearing her +mother tell of slavery days.</h5> + +<p>My mammy Ferbie, an' her brother Darson belonged ter Mr. David Hinnant in +Edgecombe County till young Marster Charlie got married. Den dey wuz drawed an' +sent wid him down hyar ter Wendell. De ole Hinnant home am still standin' dar ter +dis day.</p> + +<p>Marster Charlie an' Missus Mary wuz good ter de hundred slaves what belonged +ter' em. Dey gib 'em good houses, good feed, good clothes an' plenty uv fun. Dey +had dere co'n shuckin's, dere barn dances, prayer meetin's an' sich like all de +year, an' from Christmas till de second day o' January dey had a holiday wid +roast oxes, pigs, turkey an' all de rest o' de fixin's. From Saturday till Monday +de slaves wuz off an' dey had dere Sunday clothes, which wuz nice. De marster +always gib 'em a paper so's de patterollers won't git 'em.</p> + +<p>Dey went up de riber to other plantations ter dances an' all dem things, an' +dey wuz awful fond uv singin' songs. Dat's whut dey done atter dey comes ter dere +cabins at de end o' de day. De grown folkses sings an' somebody pickin' de banjo. +De favorite song wuz 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot' an' 'Play on yo' Harp Little +David'. De chilluns uster<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> play Hide an' Seek, an' Leap Frog, an' ever'body wuz happy.</p> + +<p>Dey had time off ter hunt an' fish an' dey had dere own chickens, pigs, +watermillons an' gyardens. De fruits from de big orchard an' de honey from de +hives wuz et at home, an' de slave et as good as his marster et. Dey had a whole +heap o' bee hives an' my mammy said dat she had ter tell dem bees when Mis' Mary +died. She said how she wuz cryin' so hard dat she can't hardly tell 'em, an' dat +dey hum lak dey am mo'nin' too.</p> + +<p>My mammy marry my pappy dar an' she sez dat de preacher from de Methodis' +Church marry 'em, dat she w'ar Miss Mary's weddin' dress, all uv white lace, an' +dat my pappy w'ar Mr. Charlie's weddin' suit wid a flower in de button hole. Dey +gived a big dance atter de supper dey had, an' Marster Charlie dance de +<ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: fust">first</ins> set wid my mammy.</p> + +<p>I jist thought of a tale what I hyard my mammy tell 'bout de Issue Frees of +Edgecombe County when she wuz a little gal. She said dat de Issue Frees wuz mixed +wid de white folks, an' uv cou'se dat make 'em free. Sometimes dey stay on de +plantation, but a whole heap uv dem, long wid niggers who had done runned away +from dere marster, dugged caves in de woods, an' dar dey lived an' raised dere +families dar. Dey ain't wored much clothes an' what dey got to eat an' to w'ar +dey swiped from de white folkses. Mammy said dat she uster go ter de spring +fer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> water, +an' dem ole Issue Frees up in de woods would yell at her, 'Doan yo' muddy dat +spring, little gal'. Dat scared her moughty bad.</p> + +<p>Dem Issue Frees till dis day shows both bloods. De white folkses won't have +'em an' de niggers doan want 'em but will have ter have 'em anyhow.</p> + +<p>My uncle wuz raised in a cave an' lived on stold stuff an' berries. My cousin +runned away 'cause his marster wuz mean ter him, but dey put de blood hounds on +his trail, ketched him. Atter he got well from de beatin' dey gib him, dey sold +him.</p> + +<p>I'se hyard ole lady Prissie Jones who died at de age of 103 las' winter tell +'bout marsters dat when dere slaves runned away dey'd set de bloodhounds on dere +trail an' when dey ketched 'em dey'd cut dere haids off wid de swords.</p> + +<p>Ole lady Prissie tole 'bout slaves what ain't had nothin' ter eat an' no +clothes 'cept a little strip uv homespun, but my mammy who died four months ago +at de age 106 said dat she ain't knowed nothin' 'bout such doin's.</p> + +<p>When de Yankees come, dey come a burnin' an' a-stealin' an' Marster Charlie +carried his val'ables ter mammy's cabin, but dey found 'em. Dey had a money rod +an' dey'd find all de stuff no matter whar it wuz.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> Mammy said dat all de slaves cried +when de Yankees come, an' dat most uv 'em stayed on a long time atter de war. My +mammy plowed an' done such work all de time uv slavery, but she done it case she +wanted to do it an' not 'cause dey make her.</p> + +<p>All de slaves hate de Yankees an' when de southern soldiers comed by late in +de night all de niggers got out of de bed an' holdin' torches high dey march +behin' de soldiers, all of dem singin', 'We'll Hang Abe Lincoln on de Sour Apple +Tree.' Yes mam, dey wuz sorry dat dey wuz free, an' dey ain't got no reason to be +glad, case dey wuz happier den dan now.</p> + +<p>I'se hyard mammy tell 'bout how de niggers would sing as dey picked de cotton, +but yo' ain't hyard none uv dat now. Den dey ain't had to worry 'bout nothin'; +now dey has ter study so much dat dey ain't happy nuff ter sing no mo'.</p> + +<p>"Does yo' know de cause of de war?" Aunt Alice went to a cupboard and returned +holding out a book. "Well hyar's de cause, dis <span class="u">Uncle Tom's +Cabin</span> wuz de cause of it all; an' its' de biggest lie what ever been gived +ter de public."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320157]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="John Beckwith"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>341</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>WHEN THE YANKEES CAME</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>John Beckwith</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 209px;"> +<img src="images/j_beckwith.jpg" width="209" height="300" alt="j_beckwith" title="John Beckwith" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + +<h4>WHEN THE YANKEES CAME</h4> + +<h5>An Interview with John Beckwith 83, of Cary.</h5> + +<p>I reckon dat I wuz 'bout nine years old at de surrender, but we warn't happy +an' we stayed on dar till my parents died. My pappy wuz named Green an' my mammy +wuz named Molly, an' we belonged ter Mr. Joe Edwards, Mr. Marion Gully, an' Mr. +Hilliard Beckwith, as de missus married all of 'em. Dar wuz twenty-one other +slaves, an' we got beat ever' onct in a while.</p> + +<p>When dey told us dat de Yankees wuz comin' we wuz also told dat iffen we +didn't behave dat we'd be shot; an' we believed it. We would'uv behaved anyhow, +case we had good plank houses, good food, an' shoes. We had Saturday an' Sunday +off an' we wuz happy.</p> + +<p>De missus, she raised de nigger babies so's de mammies could wuck. I 'members +de times when she rock me ter sleep an' put me ter bed in her own bed. I wuz +happy den as I thinks back of it, until dem Yankees come.</p> + +<p>Dey come on a Chuesday; an' dey started by burnin' de cotton house an' killin' +most of de chickens an' pigs. Way atter awhile dey fin's de cellar an' dey drinks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +brandy till dey gits wobbly in de legs. Atter dat dey comes up on de front porch +an' calls my missus. When she comes ter de do' dey tells her dat dey am goin' in +de house ter look things over. My missus dejicts, case ole marster am away at de +war, but dat doan do no good. Dey cusses her scan'lous an' dey dares her ter +speak. Dey robs de house, takin' dere knives an' splittin' mattresses, pillows +an' ever' thing open lookin' fer valerables, an' ole missus dasen't open her +mouth.</p> + +<p>Dey camped dar in de grove fer two days, de officers takin' de house an' +missus leavin' home an' goin' ter de neighbor's house. Dey make me stay dar in de +house wid 'em ter tote dere brandy frum de cellar, an' ter make 'em some mint +jelup. Well, on de secon' night dar come de wust storm I'se eber seed. De +lightnin' flash, de thunder roll, an' de house shook an' rattle lak a earthquake +had struck it.</p> + +<p>Dem Yankees warn't supposed ter be superstitious, but lemmie tell yo', dey wuz +some skeered dat night; an' I hyard a Captain say dat de witches wuz abroad. +Atter awhile lightnin' struck de Catawba tree dar at de side of de house an' de +soldiers camped round about dat way marched off ter de barns, slave cabins an' +other places whar dey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> wuz safter dan at dat place. De next mornin' dem Yankees moved +frum dar an' dey ain't come back fer nothin'.</p> + +<p>We wuzn't happy at de surrender an' we cussed ole Abraham Lincoln all ober de +place. We wuz told de disadvantages of not havin' no edercation, but shucks, we +doan need no book larnin' wid ole marster ter look atter us.</p> + +<p>My mammy an' pappy stayed on dar de rest of dere lives, an' I stayed till I +wuz sixteen. De Ku Klux Klan got atter me den' bout fightin' wid a white boy. Dat +night I slipped in de woods an' de nex' day I went ter Raleigh. I got a job dar +an' eber' since den I'se wucked fer myself, but now I can't wuck an' I wish dat +yo' would apply fer my ole aged pension fer me.</p> + +<p>I went back ter de ole plantation long as my pappy, mammy, an' de marster an' +missus lived. Sometimes, when I gits de chanct I goes back now. Course now de +slave cabins am gone, ever' body am dead, an' dar ain't nothin' familiar 'cept de +bent Catawba tree; but it 'minds me of de happy days.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320163]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="John Bectom"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1,566</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>JOHN C. BECTOM</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>John C. Bectom</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class="hw">N. C.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<h4>JOHN C. BECTOM</h4> + +<p>My name is John C. Bectom. I was born Oct. 7, 1862, near Fayetteville, +Cumberland County, North Carolina. My father's name was Simon Bectom. He was 86 +years of age when he died. He died in 1910 at Fayetteville, N. C. My mother's name +was Harriet Bectom. She died in 1907, May 23, when she was seventy years old. My +brother's were named Ed, Kato and Willie. I was third of the boys. My sisters +were Lucy, Anne and Alice. My father first belonged to Robert Wooten of Craven +County, N. C. Then he was sold by the Wootens to the Bectoms of Wayne County, near +Goldsboro, the county seat. My mother first belonged to the McNeills of +Cumberland County. Miss Mary McNeill married a McFadden, and her parents gave my +mother to Mis' Mary. Mis' Mary's daughter in time married Ezekial King and my +mother was then given to her by Mis' Mary McFadden, her mother. Mis' Lizzie +McFadden became a King. My grandmother was named Lucy Murphy. She belonged to the +Murpheys. All the slaves were given off to the children of the family as they +married.</p> + +<p>My father and mother told me stories of how they were treated at different +places. When my grandmother was with the Murpheys they would make her get up, and +begin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> burning logs in new grounds before daybreak. They also made her plow, the same as +any of the men on the plantation. They plowed till dusk-dark before they left the +fields to come to the house. They were not allowed to attend any dances or +parties unless they slipped off unknowin's. They had candy pullings sometimes +too. While they would be there the patterollers would visit them. Sometimes the +patterollers whipped all they caught at this place, all they set their hands on, +unless they had a pass.</p> + +<p>They fed us mighty good. The food was well cooked. They gave the slaves an +acre of ground to plant and they could sell the crop and have the money. The work +on this acre was done on moonshiny nights and holidays. Sometimes slaves would +steal the marster's chickens or a hog and slip off to another plantation and have +it cooked. We had plenty of clothes, and one pair o' shoes a year. You had to +take care of them because you only got one pair a year. They were given at +Christmas every year. The clothes were made on the plantation.</p> + +<p>There were corn mills on the plantation, and rice mills, and threshing +machines. The plantation had about 300 acres in farm land. The enclosure was +three miles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> My marster lived in a fine house. It took a year to build it. +There were about 16 rooms in it. We slaves called it the great house. Some of the +slaves ran away and finally reached Ohio. There was no jail on the plantation. +Sometimes the overseer would whip us.</p> + +<p>The Kings had no overseers. King beat his slaves with a stick. I remember +seeing him do this as well as I can see that house over there. He became blind. +An owl scratched him in the face when he was trying to catch him, and his face +got into sich a fix he went to Philadelphia for treatment, but they could not +cure him. He finally went blind. I have seen him beat his slaves after he was +blind. I remember it well. He beat 'em with a stick. He was the most sensitive +man you ever seed. He ran a store. After he was blind you could han' him a piece +of money and he could tell you what it was.</p> + +<p>There were no churches on the plantation but prayer meeting' were held in the +quarters. Slaves were not allowed to go to the white folk's church unless they +were coach drivers, etc. No sir, not in that community. They taught the slaves +the Bible. The children of the marster would go to private school. We small Negro +children looked after the babies in the cradles and other young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> children. When +the white children studied their lessons I studied with them. When they wrote in +the sand I wrote in the sand too. The white children, and not the marster or +mistress, is where I got started in learnin' to read and write.</p> + +<p>We had corn shuckings, candy pullings, dances, prayer meetings. We went to +camp meetin' on Camp Meeting days in August when the crops were laid by. We +played games of high jump, jumping over the pole held by two people, wrestling, +leap frog, and jumping. We sang the songs, 'Go tell Aunt Patsy'. 'Some folks says +a nigger wont steal, I caught six in my corn field' 'Run nigger run, the +patteroller ketch you, Run nigger run like you did the other day'.</p> + +<p>When slaves got sick marster looked after them. He gave them blue mass and +caster oil. Dr. McDuffy also treated us. Dr. McSwain vaccinated us for small pox. +My sister died with it. When the slaves died marster buried them. They dug a +grave with a tomb in it. I do not see any of them now. The slaves were buried in +a plain box.</p> + +<p>The marsters married the slaves without any papers. All they did was to say +perhaps to Jane and Frank,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> 'Frank, I pronounce you and Jane man and wife.' +But the woman did not take the name of her husband, she kept the name of the +family who owned her.</p> + +<p>I remember seeing the Yankees near Fayetteville. They shot a bomb shell at +Wheeler's Calvary, and it hit near me and buried in the ground. Wheeler's Calvary +came first and ramsaked the place. They got all the valuables they could, and +burned the bridge, the covered bridge over Cape Fear river, but when the Yankees +got there they had a pontoon bridge to cross on,—all those provision wagons +and such. When they passed our place it was in the morning. They nearly scared me +to death. They passed right by our door, Sherman's army. They began passing, so +the white folks said, at 9 o'clock in the mornin'. At 9 o'clock at night they +were passin' our door on foot. They said there were two hundred and fifty +thousan' o' them passed. Some camped in my marster's old fiel'. A Yankee caught +one of my marster's shoats and cut off one of the hind quarters, gave it to me, +and told me to carry and give it to my mother. I was so small I could not tote +it, so I drug it to her. I called her when I got in hollering distance of the +house and she came and got it. The Yankees called us Johnnie, Dinah, Bill and +other funny names. They beat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> their drums and sang songs. One of the Yankees +sang 'Rock a Bye Baby'. At that time Jeff Davis money was plentiful. My mother +had about $1000. It was so plentiful it was called Jeff Davis shucks. My mother +had bought a pair of shoes, and had put them in a chest. A Yankee came and took +the shoes and wore them off, leaving his in their place. They tol' us we were +free. Sometimes the marster would get cruel to the slaves if they acted like they +were free.</p> + +<p>Mat Holmes, a slave, was wearing a ball and chain as a punishment for running +away. Marster Ezekial King put it on him. He has slept in the bed with me, +wearing that ball and chain. The cuff had embedded in his leg, it was swollen so. +This was right after the Yankees came through. It was March, the 9th of March, +when the Yankees came through. Mat Holmes had run away with the ball and chain on +him and was in the woods then. He hid out staying with us at night until August. +Then my mother took him to the Yankee garrison at Fayetteville. A Yankee officer +then took him to a black smith shop and had the ball and chain cut off his leg. +The marsters would tell the slaves to go to work that they were not free, that +they still belonged to them, but one would drop out and leave, then another. +There was little work done on the farm, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> finally most of the slaves learned +they were free.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln was one of the greatest men that ever lived. He was the cause +of us slaves being free. No doubt about that. I didn't think anything of Jeff +Davis. He tried to keep us in slavery. I think slavery was an injustice, not +right. Our privilege is to live right, and live according to the teachings of the +Bible, to treat our fellowman right. To do this I feel we should belong to some +religious organization and live as near right as we know how.</p> + +<p>The overseers and patterollers in the time of slavery were called poor white +trash by the slaves.</p> + +<p>On the plantations not every one, but some of the slave holders would have +some certain slave women reserved for their own use. Sometimes children almost +white would be born to them. I have seen many of these children. Sometimes the +child would be said to belong to the overseer, and sometimes it would be said to +belong to the marster.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320118]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="LAURA BELL"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>610</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>AUNT LAURA</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>LAURA BELL</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Geo. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 6 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<h4>AUNT LAURA</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Laura Bell, 73 years old, of 2 Bragg Street, Raleigh, North +Carolina.</h5> + +<p>Being informed that Laura Bell was an old slavery Negro, I went immediately to +the little two-room shack with its fallen roof and shaky steps. As I approached +the shack I noticed that the storm had done great damage to the chaney-berry tree +in her yard, fallen limbs litterin' the ground, which was an inch deep in garbage +and water.</p> + +<p>The porch was littered with old planks and huge tubs and barrels of stagnant +water. There was only room for one chair and in that sat a tall Negro woman clad +in burlap bags and in her lap she held a small white flea-bitten dog which +growled meaningly.</p> + +<p>When I reached the gate, which swings on one rusty hinge, she bade me come in +and the Carolina Power and Light Company men, who were at work nearby, laughed as +I climbed over the limbs and garbage and finally found room for one foot on the +porch and one on the ground.</p> + +<p>"I wus borned in Mount Airy de year 'fore de Yankees come, bein' de fourth of +five chilluns. My mammy an' daddy Minerva Jane an' Wesley 'longed ter Mr. Mack +Strickland an' we lived on his big place near Mount Airy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mack wus good ter us, dey said. He give us enough ter eat an' plenty of +time ter weave clothes fer us ter wear. I've hearn mammy tell of de corn +shuckin's an' dances dey had an' 'bout some whuppin's too."</p> + +<p>"Marse Mack's overseer, I doan know his name, wus gwine ter whup my mammy +onct, an' pappy do' he ain't neber make no love ter mammy comes up an' takes de +whuppin' fer her. Atter dat dey cou'ts on Sadday an' Sunday an' at all de +sociables till dey gits married."</p> + +<p>"I'se hearn her tell' bout how he axed Marse Mack iffen he could cou't mammy +an' atter Marse Mack sez he can he axes her ter marry him."</p> + +<p>"She tells him dat she will an' he had 'em married by de preacher de nex' time +he comes through dat country."</p> + +<p>"I growed up on de farm an' when I wus twelve years old I met Thomas Bell. My +folks said dat I wus too young fer ter keep company so I had ter meet him 'roun' +an' about fer seberal years, I think till I wus fifteen."</p> + +<p>"He axed me ter marry him while he wus down on de creek bank a fishin' an' I +tol' him yes, but when he starts ter kiss me I tells him dat der's many a slip +twixt de cup an' de lip an' so he has ter wait till we gits married.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>"</p> + +<p>"We runned away de nex' Sadday an' wus married by a Justice of de Peace in +Mount Airy."</p> + +<p>"Love ain't what hit uster be by a long shot," de ole woman reflected, "'Cause +dar ain't many folks what loves all de time. We moved ter Raleigh forty years +ago, an' Tom has been daid seberal years now. We had jest one chile but hit wus +borned daid."</p> + +<p>"Chilluns ain't raised ter be clean lak we wus. I knows dat de house ain't so +clean but I doan feel so much lak doin' nothin', I jest went on a visit 'bout +seben blocks up de street dis mo'nin' an' so I doan feel lak cleanin' up +none."</p> + +<p>I cut the interview short thereby missing more facts, as the odor was anything +but pleasant and I was getting tired of standing in that one little spot.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for comin'", she called, and her dog growled again.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320111]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Emma Blalock"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1153</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>EMMA BLALOCK</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Emma Blalock</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Geo. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 6 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> + +<h4>EMMA BLALOCK</h4> + +<h5>88 years old 529 Bannon Avenue Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I shore do 'member de Yankees wid dere blue uniforms wid brass buttons on 'em. +I wus too small to work any but I played in de yard wid my oldes' sister, Katie. +She is dead long ago. My mother belonged to ole man John Griffith an' I belonged +to him. His plantation wus down here at Auburn in Wake County. My father wus +named Edmund Rand. He belonged to Mr. Nat Rand. He lived in Auburn. De +plantations wus not fur apart. Dere wus about twenty-five slaves on de plantation +whur mother an' me stayed.</p> + +<p>Marse John used ter take me on his knee an' sing, 'Here is de hammer, Shing +ding. Gimme de Hammer, shing ding.' Marster loved de nigger chilluns on his +plantation. When de war ended father come an' lived with us at Marse John's +plantation. Marster John Griffith named me Emmy. My grandfather on my fathers +side wus named Harden Rand, an' grandmother wus named Mason Rand. My grandfather +on my mother's side wus named Antny Griffiths an' grandmother wus named +Nellie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>Our food wus a plenty and well cooked. Marster fed his niggers good. We had +plenty of homespun dresses and we got shoes once a year, at Christmas Eve. I ken +'member it just as good. We got Christmas Holidays an' a stockin' full of candy +an' peanuts. Sometimes we got ginger snaps at Christmas. My grandmother cooked' +em. She wus a good cook. My mother's missus wus Miss Jetsy Griffith and my +father's missus wus Lucy Rand. Dey wus both mighty good women. You know I am ole. +I ken 'member all dem good white folks. Dey give us Fourth July Holidays. Dey +come to town on dat day. Dey wore, let me tell you what dey wore, dey wore dotted +waist blouses an' white pants. Dat wus a big day to ever'body, de Fourth of July. +Dey begun singing at Auburn an' sung till dey reached Raleigh. Auburn is nine +miles from Raleigh. Dere wus a lot of lemonade. Dey made light bread in big ovens +an' had cheese to eat wid it. Some said just goin' on de fofe to git lemonade an' +cheese.</p> + +<p>In the winter we had a lot of possums to eat an' a lot of rabbits too. At +Christmas time de men hunted and caught plenty game. We barbecued it before de +fire. I 'members seein' mother an' grandmother swinging rabbits<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> 'fore de +fire to cook 'em. Dey would turn an' turn 'em till dey wus done. Dey hung some up +in de chimbly an' dry 'em out an' keep 'em a long time an' dat is de reason I +won't eat a rabbit today. No Sir! I won't eat a rabbit. I seed 'em mess wid 'em +so much turned me 'ginst eatin' 'em.</p> + +<p>I don't know how much lan' Marster John owned but, Honey, dat wus some +plantation. It reached from Auburn to de Neuse River. Yes Sir, it did, 'cause I +been down dere in corn hillin' time an' we fished at twelve o'clock in Neuse +River. Marster John had overseers. Dere wus six of 'em. Dey rode horses over de +fields but I don't 'member dere names.</p> + +<p>I never seen a slave whupped but dey wus whupped on de plantation an' I heard +de grown folks talkin' 'bout it. My uncles Nat an' Bert Griffiths wus both +whupped. Uncle Nat would not obey his missus rules an' she had him whupped. Dey +whupped Uncle Bert 'cause he stayed drunk so much. He loved his licker an' he got +drunk an' cut up bad, den dey whupped him. You could git plenty whiskey den. +Twon't like it is now. No sir, it won't. Whiskey sold fur ten cents a quart. Most +ever' body drank it but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> you hardly ever seed a man drunk. Slaves wus not whupped for +drinkin'. Dere Marsters give 'em whiskey but dey wus whupped for gittin' drunk. +Dere wus a jail, a kind of stockade built of logs, on de farm to put slaves in +when dey wouldn't mind. I never say any slave put on de block an' sold, but I saw +Aunt Helen Rand cryin' because her Marster Nat Rand sold her boy, Fab Rand.</p> + +<p>No Sir, no readin' an' writin'. You had to work. Ha! ha! You let your marster +or missus ketch you wid a book. Dat wus a strict rule dat no learnin' wus to be +teached. I can't read an' write. If it wus not fur my mother wit don't know what +would become of me. We had prayer meetings around at de slave houses. I 'member +it well. We turned down pots on de inside of de house at de door to keep marster +an' missus from hearin' de singin' an' prayin'. Marster an' his family lived in +de great house an' de slave quarters wus 'bout two hundred yards away to the back +of de great house. Dey wus arranged in rows. When de war ended we all stayed on +wid de families Griffiths an' Rands till dey died, dat is all 'cept my father an' +me. He lef' an' I lef'. I been in Raleigh forty-five years. I married Mack +Blalock in Raleigh. He been dead seven years.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p>My mother had two boys, Antny an' Wesley. She had four girls, Katie, Grissie, +Mary Ella an' Emma. I had three chilluns, two are livin' yet. They both live in +Raleigh.</p> + +<p>We had big suppers an' dinners at log rollin's an' corn shuckin's in slavery +time ha! ha! plenty of corn licker for ever'body, both white an' black. Ever'body +helped himself. Dr. Tom Busbee, one good ole white man, looked after us when we +got sick, an' he could make you well purty quick, 'cause he wus good an' 'cause +he wus sorry fer you. He wus a feelin' man. Course we took erbs. I tell you what +I took. Scurrey grass, chana balls dey wus for worms. Scurrey grass worked you +out. Dey give us winter green to clense our blood. We slaves an' a lot of de +white folks drank sassafras tea in de place of coffee. We sweetened it wid brown +sugar, honey, or molasses, just what we had in dat line. I think slavery wus a +right good thing. Plenty to eat an' wear.</p> + +<p>When you gits a tooth pulled now it costs two dollars, don't it? Well in +slavery time I had a tooth botherin' me. My mother say, Emma, take dis egg an' go +down to Doctor Busbee an' give it to him an' git your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> tooth pulled. I give him one +egg. He took it an' pulled my tooth. Try dat now, if you wants to an' see what +happens. Yes, slavery wus a purty good thing.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320165]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Uncle David Blount"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1430</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Days on the Plantation</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Uncle David Blount</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class="hw" title="HW: N.C. Good general story— +Good story +Hates the Yankees +boy beaten by overseer who is later discharged; slaves make pact with Yankees">HW notes</span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<h4>DAYS ON THE PLANTATION</h4> + +<p>As told by Uncle David Blount, formerly of Beaufort County, who did not know +his age. "De Marster" he refers to was Major Wm. A. Blount, who owned plantations +in several parts of North Carolina.</p> + +<p>Yes mam, de days on de plantation wuz de happy days. De marster made us wuck +through de week but on Sadays we uster go swimmin' in de riber an' do a lot of +other things dat we lak ter do.</p> + +<p>We didn't mind de wuck so much case de ground wuz soft as ashes an' de marster +let us stop and rest when we got tired. We planted 'taters in de uplan's and co'n +in de lowgroun's nex' de riber. It wuz on de Cape Fear an' on hot days when we +wuz a-pullin' de fodder we'd all stop wuck 'bout three o'clock in de ebenin' an' +go swimmin'. Atter we come out'n de water we would wuck harder dan eber an' de +marster wuz good to us, case we did wuck an' we done what he ast us.</p> + +<p>I 'members onct de marster had a oberseer dar dat wuz meaner dan a mean +nigger. He always hired good oberseers an' a whole lot of times he let some Negro +slave obersee. Well, dis oberseer beat some of de half grown boys till de blood +run down ter dar heels an' he tole de rest of us dat if we told on him dat he'd +kill us. We don't dasen't ast de marster ter git rid of de man so dis went on fer +a long time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>It wuz cold as de debil one day an' dis oberseer had a gang of us a-clearin' +new groun'. One boy ast if he could warm by de bresh heap. De oberseer said no, +and atter awhile de boy had a chill. De oberseer don't care, but dat night de boy +am a sick nigger. De nex' mornin' de marster gits de doctor, an' de doctor say +dat de boy has got pneumonia. He tells 'em ter take off de boys shirt an' grease +him wid some tar, turpentine, an' kerosene, an' when dey starts ter take de shirt +off dey fin's dat it am stuck.</p> + +<p>Dey had ter grease de shirt ter git it off case de blood whar de oberseer beat +him had stuck de shirt tight ter de skin. De marster wuz in de room an' he axed +de boy how come it, an' de boy tole him.</p> + +<p>De marster sorta turns white an' he says ter me, 'Will yo' go an' ast de +oberseer ter stop hyar a minute, please?'</p> + +<p>When de oberseer comes up de steps he axes sorta sassy-like, 'What yo' +want?'</p> + +<p>De marster says, 'Pack yo' things an' git off'n my place as fast as yo' can, +yo' pesky varmit.'</p> + +<p>De oberseer sasses de marster some more, an' den I sees de marster fairly +loose his temper for de first time. He don't say a word but he walks ober, grabs +de oberseer by de shoulder, sets his boot right hard 'ginst de seat of his pants +an' sen's him, all drawed up, out in de yard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> on his face. He close up lak a +umbrella for a minute den he pulls hisself all tergether an' he limps out'n dat +yard an' we ain't neber seed him no more.</p> + +<p>No mam, dar wuzent no marryin' on de plantation dem days, an' as one ole 'oman +raised all of de chilluns me an' my brother Johnnie ain't neber knowed who our +folkses wuz. Johnnie wuz a little feller when de war ended, but I wuz in most of +de things dat happen on de plantation fer a good while.</p> + +<p>One time dar, I done fergit de year, some white mens comes down de riber on a +boat an' dey comes inter de fiel's an' talks ter a gang of us an' dey says dat +our masters ain't treatin' us right. Dey tells us dat we orter be paid fer our +wuck, an' dat we hadn't ort ter hab passes ter go anywhar. Dey also tells us dat +we ort ter be allowed ter tote guns if we wants 'em. Dey says too dat sometime +our marsters was gwine ter kill us all.</p> + +<p>I laughs at 'em, but some of dem fool niggers listens ter 'em; an' it 'pears +dat dese men gib de niggers some guns atter I left an' promised ter bring 'em +some more de nex' week.</p> + +<p>I fin's out de nex' day 'bout dis an' I goes an' tells de marster. He sorta +laughs an' scratches his head, 'Dem niggers am headed fer trouble, Dave, 'he says +ter me, 'an I wants yo' ter help me.'</p> + +<p>I says, 'Yas sar, marster.'</p> + +<p>An' he goes on, 'Yo' fin's out when de rest of de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> guns comes Dave, an' let me +know.'</p> + +<p>When de men brings back de guns I tells de marster, an' I also tells him dat +dey wants ter hold er meetin'.</p> + +<p>'All right,' he says an' laughs, 'dey can have de meetin'. Yo' tell 'em, Dave, +dat I said dat dey can meet on Chuesday night in de pack house.'</p> + +<p>Chuesday ebenin' he sen's dem all off to de low groun's but me, an' he tells +me ter nail up de shutters ter de pack house an' ter nail 'em up good.</p> + +<p>I does lak he tells me ter do an' dat night de niggers marches in an' sneaks +dar guns in too. I is lyin' up in de loft an' I hyars dem say dat atter de +meetin' dey is gwine ter go up ter de big house an' kill de whole fambly.</p> + +<p>I gits out of de winder an' I runs ter de house an tells de marster. Den me +an' him an' de young marster goes out an' quick as lightnin', I slams de pack +house door an' I locks it. Den de marster yells at dem, 'I'se got men an' guns +out hyar, he yells, 'an' if yo' doan throw dem guns out of de hole up dar in de +loft, an' throw dem ebery one out I'se gwine ter stick fire ter dat pack +house.'</p> + +<p>De niggers 'liberates for a few minutes an' den dey throws de guns out. I +knows how many dey has got so I counts till dey throw dem all out, den I gathers +up dem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> guns an' I totes 'em off ter de big house.</p> + +<p>Well sar, we keeps dem niggers shet up fer about a week on short rations; an' +at de end of dat time dem niggers am kyored for good. When dey comes out dey had +three oberseers 'stid of one, an' de rules am stricter dan eber before; an' den +de marster goes off ter de war.</p> + +<p>I reckon I was 'bout fifteen or sixteen den; an' de marster car's me 'long fer +his pusonal sarvant an' body guard an' he leabes de rest of dem niggers in de +fiel's ter wuck like de dickens while I laughs at dem Yankees.</p> + +<p>Jim belonged to Mr. Harley who lived in New Hanover County during de war, in +fac' he was young Massa Harley's slave; so when young Massa Tom went to de war +Jim went along too.</p> + +<p>Dey wuz at Manassas, dey tells me, when Massa Tom got kilt, and de orders wuz +not to take no bodies off de field right den.</p> + +<p>Course ole massa down near Wilmington, doan know 'bout young Massa Tom, but +one night dey hears Jim holler at de gate. Dey goes runnin' out; an' Jim has +brung Massa Tom's body all dat long ways home so dat he can be buried in de +family burian ground.</p> + +<p>De massa frees Jim dat night; but he stays on a time atter de war, an' tell de +day he died he hated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> de Yankees for killing Massa Tom. In fact we all hated de +Yankees, 'specially atter we hear 'bout starve dat first winter. I tried ter make +a libin' fer me an' Johnnie but it was bad goin'; den I comes ter Raleigh an' I +gits 'long better. Atter I gits settled I brings Johnnie, an' so we done putty +good.</p> + +<p>Dat's all I can tell yo' now Miss, but if'n yo'll come back sometime I'll tell +yo' de rest of de tales.</p> + +<p>Shortly after the above interview Uncle Dave who was failing fast was taken to +the County Home, where he died. He was buried on May 4th, 1937, the rest of the +tale remaining untold.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320185]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Clay Bobbit"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>459</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Clay Bobbit</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 17 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 204px;"> +<img src="images/c_bobbit.jpg" width="204" height="300" alt="c_bobbit" title="Clay Bobbit" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Clay Bobbit, 100 of S. Harrington Street, Raleigh, N.C., +May 27, 1937.</h5> + +<p>I wuz borned May 2, 1837 in Warren County to Washington an' Delisia Bobbit. +Our Marster wuz named Richard Bobbit, but we all calls him Massa Dick.</p> + +<p>Massa Dick ain't good ter us, an' on my arm hyar, jist above de elbow am a big +scar dis day whar he whupped me wid a cowhide. He ain't whupped me fer nothin' +'cept dat I is a nigger. I had a whole heap of dem whuppin's, mostly case I won't +obey his orders an' I'se seed slaves beat 'most ter deff.</p> + +<p>I wuz married onct 'fore de war by de broom stick ceremony, lak all de rest of +de slaves wuz but shucks dey sold away my wife 'fore we'd been married a year an' +den de war come on.</p> + +<p>I had one brother, Henry who am wuckin' fer de city, an' one sister what wuz +named Deliah. She been daid dese many years now.</p> + +<p>Massa Dick owned a powerful big plantation an' ober a hundert slaves, an' we +wucked on short rations an' went nigh naked. We ain't gone swimmin' ner huntin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +ner nothin' an' we ain't had no pleasures 'less we runs away ter habe 'em. Eben +when we sings we had ter turn down a pot in front of de do' ter ketch de +noise.</p> + +<p>I knowed some pore white trash; our oberseer wuz one, an' de shim shams<a +name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> wuz also nigh 'bout also. We ain't had no use fer none +of 'em an' we shorely ain't carin' whe'her dey has no use fer us er not.</p> + +<p>De Ku Kluxes ain't done nothin' fer us case dar ain't many in our +neighborhood. Yo' see de Yankees ain't come through dar, an' we is skeerd of dem +anyhow. De white folks said dat de Yankees would kill us if'en dey ketched +us.</p> + +<p>I ain't knowed nothin' 'bout de Yankees, ner de surrender so I stays on fer +seberal months atter de wahr wuz ober, den I comes ter Raleigh an' goes ter wuck +fer de city. I wucks fer de city fer nigh on fifty years, I reckon, an' jis' +lately I retired.</p> + +<p>I'se been sick fer 'bout four months an' on, de second day of May. De day when +I wuz a hundert years old I warn't able ter git ter de city lot, but I got a lot +uv presents.</p> + +<p>Dis 'oman am my third lawful wife. I married her three years ago.<a +name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span + class="label">[3]</span></a> Shim Sham, Free Issues or Negroes of mixed + blood.</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span + class="label">[4]</span></a> The old man was too ill to walk out on the porch + for his picture, and his mind wandered too much to give a connected account of + his life.</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320190]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Henry Bobbitt"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>793</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Henry Bobbitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 230px;"> +<img src="images/h_bobbit.jpg" width="230" height="300" alt="h_bobbit" title="Henry Bobbitt" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORIES</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Henry Bobbitt, 87 of Raleigh, Wake County N.C. May 13, 1937 +by Mary A. Hicks.</h5> + +<p>I wuz borned at Warrenton in Warren County in 1850. My father wuz named +Washington, atter General Washington an' my mamma wuz named Diasia atter a woman +in a story. Us an' 'bout forty or fifty other slaves belonged ter Mr. Richard +Bobbitt an' we wucked his four hundred acres o' land fer him. I jist had one +brother named Clay, atter Henry Clay, which shows how Massa Dick voted, an' +Delilah, which shows dat ole missus read de Bible.</p> + +<p>We farmed, makin' tobacco, cotton, co'n, wheat an' taters. Massa Dick had a +whole passel o' fine horses an' our Sunday job wuz ter take care of 'em, an' +clean up round de house. Yes mam, we wucked seben days a week, from sunup till +sundown six days, an' from seben till three or four on a Sunday.</p> + +<p>We didn't have many tear-downs an' prayer meetin's an' sich, case de fuss +sturbed ole missus who wuz kinder sickly. When we did have sompin' we turned down +a big wash-pot in front of de do', an' it took up de fuss, an' folkses in de yard +can't hyar de fuss. De patterollers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> would git you iffen you went offen de premises +widout a pass, an' dey said dat dey would beat you scandelous. I seed a feller +dat dey beat onct an' he had scars as big as my fingers all ober his body.</p> + +<p>I got one whuppin' dat I 'members, an' dat wuz jist a middlin' one. De massa +told me ter pick de cotton an' I sot down in de middle an' didn't wuck a speck. +De oberseer come an' he frailed me wid a cotton-stalk; he wuz a heap meaner ter +de niggers dan Massa Dick wuz. I saw some niggers what wuz beat bad, but I ain't +neber had no bad beatin'.</p> + +<p>We libed in log houses wid sand floors an' stick an' dirt chimneys an' we +warn't 'lowed ter have no gyarden, ner chickens, ner pigs. We ain't had no way o' +makin' money an' de fun wuz only middlin'. We had ter steal what rabbits we et +from somebody <ins class="edcorr" title="else's">elses</ins> boxes on some udder plantation, case +de massa won't let us have none o' our own, an' we ain't had no time ter hunt ner +fish.</p> + +<p>Now talkin' 'bout sompin' dat we'd git a whuppin' fer, dat wuz fer havin' a +pencil an' a piece of paper er a slate. Iffen you jist looked lak you wanted ter +larn ter read er write you got a lickin'.</p> + +<p>Dar wuz two colored women lived nigh us an' dey wuz called "free issues," but +dey wuz really witches. I ain't really seen 'em do nothin' but I hyard a whole lot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +'bout 'em puttin' spells on folkses an' I seed tracks whar day had rid Massa +Dick's hosses an' eber mo'nin' de hosses manes an' tails would be all twisted an' +knotted up. I know dat dey done dat case I seed it wid my own eyes. Dey doctored +lots of people an' our folkses ain't neber had no doctor fer nothin' dat +happen.</p> + +<p>You wuz axin' 'bout de slave sales, an' I want ter tell you dat I has seen +some real sales an' I'se seed niggers, whole bunches of' em, gwin' ter Richmond +ter be sold. Dey wuz mostly chained, case dey wuz new ter de boss, an' he doan +know what ter 'spect. I'se seed some real sales in Warrenton too, an' de mammies +would be sold from deir chilluns an' dare would be a whole heap o' cryin' an' +mou'nin' 'bout hit. I tell you folkses ain't lak dey uster be, 'specially +niggers. Uster be when a nigger cries he whoops an' groans an' hollers an' his +whole body rocks, an' dat am de way dey done sometime at de sales.</p> + +<p>Speakin' 'bout haints: I'se seed a whole lot o' things, but de worst dat eber +happen wuz 'bout twenty years ago when a han'ts hand hit me side o' de haid. I +bet dat hand weighed a hundred pounds an' it wuz as cold as ice. I ain't been +able ter wuck fer seben days an' nights an' I still can't turn my haid far ter de +left as you sees.</p> + +<p>I reckon 'bout de funniest thing 'bout our planta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>tion wuz de marryin'. A couple +got married by sayin' dat dey wuz, but it couldn't last fer longer dan five +years. Dat wuz so iffen one of 'em got too weakly ter have chilluns de other one +could git him another wife or husban'.</p> + +<p>I 'members de day moughty well when de Yankees come. Massa Dick he walked de +floor an' cussed Sherman fer takin' his niggers away. All o' de niggers lef', of +course, an' me, I walked clean ter Raleigh ter find out if I wuz really free, an' +I couldn't unnerstan' half of it.</p> + +<p>Well de first year I slept in folkses woodhouses an' barns an' in de woods or +any whar else I could find. I wucked hyar an' dar, but de folkses' jist give me +sompin' ter eat an' my clothes wuz in strings' fore de spring o' de year.</p> + +<p>Yo' axes me what I thinks of Massa Lincoln? Well, I thinks dat he wuz doin' de +wust thing dat he could ter turn all dem fool niggers loose when dey ain't got no +place ter go an' nothin' ter eat. Who helped us out den? Hit wuzn't de Yankees, +hit wuz de white folkses what wuz left wid deir craps in de fiel's, an' wuz +robbed by dem Yankees, ter boot. My ole massa, fur instance, wuz robbed uv his +fine hosses an' his feed stuff an' all dem kaigs o' liquor what he done make +hisself, sides his money an' silver.</p> + +<p>Slavery wuz a good thing den, but de world jist got better an' outgrowed +it.</p> + +<p><small>EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320235]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Herndon Bogan"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>863</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>HERNDON BOGAN</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Herndon Bogan</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 199px;"> +<img src="images/h_bogan.jpg" width="199" height="300" alt="h_bogan" title="Herndon Bogan" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + +<h4>HERNDON BOGAN</h4> + +<h4>Ex-Slave Story<br /> +An interview with Herndon Bogan, 76 (?) of State Prison, Raleigh, N.C.</h4> + +<p>I wus bawned in Union County, South Carolina on de plantation o' Doctor Bogan, +who owned both my mammy Issia, an' my pap Edwin. Dar wus six o' us chilluns; +Clara, Lula, Joe, Tux, Mack an' me.</p> + +<p>I doan' member much 'bout slavery days 'cept dat my white folkses wus good ter +us. Dar wus a heap o' slaves, maybe a hundert an' fifty. I 'members dat we wucked +hard, but we had plenty ter eat an' w'ar, eben iffen we did w'ar wood shoes.</p> + +<p>I kin barely recolleck 'fore de war dat I'se seed a heap o' cocks fightin' in +pits an' a heap o' horse racin'. When de marster winned he 'ud give us niggers a +big dinner or a dance, but if he lost, oh!</p> + +<p>My daddy wus gived ter de doctor when de doctor wus married an' dey shore +loved each other. One day marster, he comes in an' he sez dat de Yankees am +aimin' ter try ter take his niggers way from him, but dat dey am gwine ter ketch +hell while dey does hit. When he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> sez dat he starts ter walkin' de flo'. 'I'se +gwine ter leave yore missus in yore keer, Edwin,' he sez.</p> + +<p>But pa 'lows, 'Wid all respec' fer yore wife sar, she am a Yankee too, an' I'd +ruther go wid you ter de war. Please sar, massa, let me go wid you ter fight dem +Yanks.'</p> + +<p>At fust massa 'fuses, den he sez, 'All right.' So off dey goes ter de war, +massa on a big hoss, an' my pap on a strong mule 'long wid de blankets an' +things.</p> + +<p>Dey tells me dat ole massa got shot one night, an' dat pap grabs de gun 'fore +hit hits de earth an' lets de Yanks have hit.</p> + +<p>I 'members dat dem wus bad days fer South Carolina, we gived all o' de food +ter de soldiers, an' missus, eben do' she has got some Yankee folks in de war, +l'arns ter eat cabbages an' kush an' berries.</p> + +<p>I 'members dat on de day of de surrender, leastways de day dat we hyard 'bout +hit, up comes a Yankee an' axes ter see my missus. I is shakin', I is dat skeerd, +but I bucks up an' I tells him dat my missus doan want ter see no blue coat.</p> + +<p>He grins, an' tells me ter skedaddle, an' 'bout den my missus comes out an' so +help me iffen she doan hug dat dratted Yank. Atter awhile I gathers dat he's her +brother, but at fust I ain't seed no sense in her cryin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> an' sayin' 'thank God', over +an' over.</p> + +<p>Well sar, de massa an' pap what had gone off mad an' healthy an' ridin' fine +beastes comes back walkin' an' dey looked sick. Massa am white as cotton, an' so +help me, iffen my pap, who wuz black as sin, ain't pale too.</p> + +<p>Atter a few years I goes ter wuck in Spartanburg as a houseboy, den I gits a +job wid de Southern Railroad an' I goes ter Charlotte ter night-watch de +tracks.</p> + +<p>I stays dar eighteen years, but one night I kills a white hobo who am tryin' +ter rob me o' my gol' watch an' chain, an' dey gives me eighteen months. I'se +been hyar six already. He wus a white man, an' jist a boy, an' I is sorry, but I +comes hyar anyhow.</p> + +<p>I hyard a ole 'oman in Charlotte tell onct 'bout witchin' in slavery times, +dar in Mecklenburg County. She wus roun' ninety, so I reckon she knows. She said +dat iffen anybody wanted ter be a witch he would draw a circle on de groun' jist +at de aidge o' dark an' git in de circle an' squat down.</p> + +<p>Dar he had ter set an' talk ter de debil, an' he mus' say, 'I will have +nothin' ter do wid 'ligion, an' I wants you ter make me a witch.' Atter day he +mus' bile a black cat, a bat an' a bunch of herbs an' drink de soup, den he wuz +really a witch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>When you wanted ter witch somebody, she said dat you could take dat stuff, +jist a little bit of hit an' put hit under dat puson's doorsteps an' dey'd be +sick.</p> + +<p>You could go thru' de key hole or down de chimney or through de chinks in a +log house, an' you could ride a puson jist lak ridin' a hoss. Dat puson can keep +you outen his house by layin' de broom 'fore de do' an' puttin' a pin cushion +full of pins side of de bed do', iffen he's a mind to.</p> + +<p>Dat puson can kill you too, by drawin' yore pitcher an' shootin' hit in de +haid or de heart too.</p> + +<p>Dar's a heap o' ways ter tell fortunes dat she done tol' me but I'se done +forgot now 'cept coffee groun's an' a little of de others. You can't tell hit wid +'em do', case hit takes knowin' how, hit shore does.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320022]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Andrew Boone"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1,741</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>ANDREW BOONE</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Andrew Boone</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"OCT 23 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> + +<h4>ANDREW BOONE</h4> + +<h5>age 90 years.<br /> +Wake County, North Carolina. Harris Farm.</h5> + +<p>I been living in dese backer barns fifteen years. I built this little shelter +to cook under. Dey cut me off the WPA cause dey said I wus too ole to work. Dey +tole us ole folks we need not put down our walkin' sticks to git work cause dey +jes' won't goin' to put us on.</p> + +<p>Well, I had some tomatoes cooked widout any grease for my breakfast. I had a +loaf of bread yesterday, but I et it. I ain't got any check from the ole age +pension an' I have nothin' to eat an' I am hongry. I jes' looks to God. I set +down by de road thinkin' bout how to turn an' what to do to git a meal, when you +cum along. I thanks you fer dis dime. I guess God made you give it to me.</p> + +<p>I wus glad to take you down to my livin' place to give you my story. Dis +shelter, an ole tobacco barn, is better dan no home at all. I is a man to myself +an' I enjoy livin' out here if I could git enough to eat.</p> + +<p>Well de big show is coming to town. It's de Devil's wurk. Yes sir, it's de +Devil's wurk. Why dem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> show folks ken make snakes an' make 'em crawl too. Dere wus one +in Watson Field in de edge of Raleigh not long ago an' he made snakes an' made +'em crawl too. All shows is de Devil's wurk.</p> + +<p>I never done anything fer myself in all my life. I always wurked fer de +Rebels. I stuck right to 'em. Didn't have no sense fer doin' dat I guess.</p> + +<p>One time a Rebel saw a Yankee wid one eye, one leg an' one arm. De Yankee wus +beggin'. De Rebel went up to him an' give him a quarter. Den he backed off an' +jes' stood a-lookin' at de Yankee, presently he went back an' give him anudder +quarter, den anudder, den he said, 'You take dis whole dollar, you is de first +Yankee I eber seed trimmed up jes' to my notion, so take all dis, jes' take de +whole dollar, you is trimmed up to my notion'.</p> + +<p>I belonged to Billy Boone in Slavery time. He wus a preacher. He lived on an' +owned a plantation in Northampton County. The plantation wus near woodland. The +nearest river to the place wus the Roanoke. My ole missus' name wus Nancy. When +ole marster died I stayed around wid fust one then another of the chilluns, cause +marster tole me jes' fore he died fer me to stay wid any of 'em I wanted to stay +with. All dem ole people done dead an' gone on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<p>Niggers had to go through thick an' thin in slavery time, with rough rations +most of de time, wid jes' enough clothin' to make out wid. Our houses were built +of logs an' covered wid slabs. Dey wus rived out of blocks of trees about 3-6 and +8ft in length. De chimleys wus built of sticks and mud, den a coat of clay mud +daubed over 'em. De cracks in de slave houses wus daubed wid mud too.</p> + +<p>We wurked from sun to sun. If we had a fire in cold weather where we wus +wurkin' marster or de overseer would come an' put it out. We et frozen meat an' +bread many times in cold weather. After de day's wurk in de fields wus over we +had a task of pickin' de seed from cotton till we had two ounces of lint or spin +two ounces of cotton on a spinnin' wheel. I spun cotton on a spinnin' wheel. Dats +de way people got clothes in slavery time.</p> + +<p>I can't read an' write but dey learned us to count. Dey learned us to count +dis way. 'Ought is an' ought, an' a figger is a figger, all for de white man an' +nothin' fer de nigger'. Hain't you heard people count dat way?</p> + +<p>Dey sold slaves jes' like people sell hosses now. I saw a lot of slaves sold +on de auction block. Dey would strip 'em stark naked. A nigger scarred up or +whaled an' welted up wus considered a bad nigger an' did not bring much. If his +body wus not scarred,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> he brought a good price. I saw a lot of slaves whupped an' I was +whupped myself. Dey whupped me wid de cat o' nine tails. It had nine lashes on +it. Some of de slaves wus whupped wid a cabbin paddle. Dey had forty holes in' em +an' when you wus buckled to a barrel dey hit your naked flesh wid de paddle an' +every whur dere wus a hole in de paddle it drawed a blister. When de whuppin' wid +de paddle wus over, dey took de cat o' nine tails an' busted de blisters. By dis +time de blood sometimes would be runnin' down dere heels. Den de next thing wus a +wash in salt water strong enough to hold up an egg. Slaves wus punished dat way +fer runnin' away an' sich.</p> + +<p>If you wus out widout a pass dey would shore git you. De paterollers shore +looked after you. Dey would come to de house at night to see who wus there. If +you wus out of place, dey would wear you out.</p> + +<p>Sam Joyner, a slave, belonged to marster. He wus runnin' from de paterollers +an' he fell in a ole well. De pateroller went after marster. Marster tole' em to +git ole Sam out an' whup him jes' as much as dey wanted to. Dey got him out of de +well an' he wus all wet an' muddy. Sam began takin' off his shoes, den he took +off his pants an' got in his shirt tail. Marster, he say,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> 'What you takin' off you +clothes fer Sam?' Sam, he say, 'Marster, you know you all can't whup dis nigger +right over all dese wet clothes.' Den Sam lit out. He run so fas' he nearly flew. +De paterollers got on dere hosses an' run him but dey could not ketch him. He got +away. Marster got Sam's clothes an' carried 'em to de house. Sam slipped up next +morning put his clothes on an' marster said no more about it.</p> + +<p>I wus a great big boy when de Yankees come through. I wus drivin' a two mule +team an' doin' other wurk on de farm. I drove a two hoss wagon when dey carried +slaves to market. I went to a lot of different places.</p> + +<p>My marster wus a preacher, Billy Boone. He sold an' bought niggers. He had +fifty or more. He wurked the grown niggers in two squads. My father wus named +Isham Boone and my mother wus Sarah Boone. Marster Boone whupped wid de cobbin +paddle an' de cat o' nine tails an' used the salt bath an' dat wus 'nough. Plenty +besides him whupped dat way.</p> + +<p>Marster had one son, named Solomon, an' two girls, Elsie an' Alice. My mother +had four children, three boys an' one girl. The boys were named Sam, Walter and +Andrew, dats me, an' de girl wus Cherry.</p> + +<p>My father had several children cause he had several women besides mother. +Mollie and Lila Lassiter, two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> sisters, were also his women. Dese women wus +given to him an' no udder man wus allowed to have anything to do wid 'em. Mollie +an' Lila both had chilluns by him. Dere names wus Jim, Mollie, Liza, Rosa, Pete +an' I can't remember no more of 'em.</p> + +<p>De Yankees took jes' what dey wanted an' nothin' stopped 'em, cause de +surrender had come. Before de surrender de slave owners begun to scatter de +slaves 'bout from place to place to keep de Yankees from gittin' 'em. If de +Yankees took a place de slaves nearby wus moved to a place further off.</p> + +<p>All I done wus fer de Rebels. I wus wid 'em an' I jes' done what I wus tole. I +wus afraid of de Yankees 'cause de Rebels had told us dat de Yankees would kill +us. Dey tole us dat de Yankees would bore holes in our shoulders an' wurk us to +carts. Dey tole us we would be treated a lot worser den dey wus treating us. +Well, de Yankees got here but they treated us fine. Den a story went round an' +round dat de marster would have to give de slaves a mule an' a year's provisions +an' some lan', about forty acres, but dat was not so. Dey nebber did give us +anything. When de war ended an' we wus tole we wus free, we stayed on wid marster +cause we had nothin' an' nowhere<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> to go.</p> + +<p>We moved about from farm to farm. Mother died an' father married Maria Edwards +after de surrender. He did not live wid any of his other slave wives dat I knows +of.</p> + +<p>I have wurked as a han' on de farm most of de time since de surrender and +daddy worked most of de time as a han', but he had gardens an' patches most +everywhere he wurked. I wurked in New York City for fifteen years with Crawford +and Banhay in de show business. I advertised for 'em. I dressed in a white suit, +white shirt, an' white straw hat, and wore tan shoes. I had to be a purty boy. I +had to have my shoes shined twice a day. I lived at 18 Manilla Lane, New York +City. It is between McDougall Street and 6th Avenue. I married Clara Taylor in +New York City. We had two children. The oldest one lives in New York. The other +died an' is buried in Raleigh.</p> + +<p>In slavery time they kept you down an' you had to wurk, now I can't wurk, an' +I am still down. Not allowed to wurk an' still down. It's all hard, slavery and +freedom, both bad when you can't eat. The ole bees makes de honey comb, the young +bee makes de honey, niggers makes de cotton an' corn an' de white folks gets de +money. Dis wus de case in Slavery time an' its de case now. De nigger do mos' de +hard wurk on de farms now, and de white folks still git de money dat de nigger's +labor makes.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320002]</div> +<b>STATE EDITORIAL IDENTIFICATION FORM</b><br /> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="W. L. Bost"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>STATE:</b></td><td align='left'><b>North Carolina</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>RECEIVED FROM:</b></td><td align='left'><b>(State office) Asheville</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>MS:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Interview with W. L. Bost, Ex-Slave.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>WORDS:</b></td><td align='left'><b>2000</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>DATE:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Sept. 27, 1937</b></td></tr> +</table> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 232px;"> +<img src="images/w_bost.jpg" width="232" height="300" alt="w_bost" title="W. L. Bost" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> + +<h4>Interview with W. L. Bost, Ex-slave</h4> +<span class="hw">88 years</span> + +<h5>63 Curve Street,<br /> +Asheville, N.C.<br /> +By—Marjorie Jones</h5> + +<p>My Massa's name was Jonas Bost. He had a hotel in Newton, North Carolina. My +mother and grandmother both belonged to the Bost family. My ole Massa had two +large plantations one about three miles from Newton and another four miles away. +It took a lot of niggers to keep the work a goin' on them both. The women folks +had to work in the hotel and in the big house in town. Ole Missus she was a good +woman. She never allowed the Massa to buy or sell any slaves. There never was an +overseer on the whole plantation. The oldest colored man always looked after the +niggers. We niggers lived better than the niggers on the other plantations.</p> + +<p>Lord child, I remember when I was a little boy, 'bout ten years, the +speculators come through Newton with droves of slaves. They always stay at our +place. The poor critters nearly froze to death. They always come 'long on the +last of December so that the niggers would be ready for sale on the first day of +January. Many the time I see four or five of them chained together. They never +had enough clothes on to keep a cat warm. The women never wore anything but a +thin dress and a petticoat and one underwear. I've seen the ice balls hangin' on +to the bottom of their dresses as they ran along, jes like sheep in a pasture +'fore they are sheared. They never wore any shoes. Jes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> run along on the ground, all +spewed up with ice. The speculators always rode on horses and drove the pore +niggers. When they get cold, they make 'em run 'til they are warm again.</p> + +<p>The speculators stayed in the hotel and put the niggers in the quarters jes +like droves of hogs. All through the night I could hear them mournin' and +prayin'. I didn't know the Lord would let people live who were so cruel. The +gates were always locked and they was a guard on the outside to shoot anyone who +tried to run away. Lord miss, them slaves look jes like droves of turkeys runnin' +along in front of them horses.</p> + +<p>I remember when they put 'em on the block to sell 'em. The ones 'tween 18 and +30 always bring the most money. The auctioneer he stand off at a distance and cry +'em off as they stand on the block. I can hear his voice as long as I live.</p> + +<p>If the one they going to sell was a young Negro man this is what he say: "Now +gentlemen and fellow-citizens here is a big black buck Negro. He's stout as a +mule. Good for any kin' o' work an' he never gives any trouble. How much am I +offered for him?" And then the sale would commence, and the nigger would be sold +to the highest bidder.</p> + +<p>If they put up a young nigger woman the auctioneer cry out: "Here's a young +nigger wench, how much am I offered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> for her?" The pore thing stand on the block a +shiverin' an' a shakin' nearly froze to death. When they sold many of the pore +mothers beg the speculators to sell 'em with their husbands, but the speculator +only take what he want. So meybe the pore thing never see her husban' agin.</p> + +<p>Ole' Massa always see that we get plenty to eat. O' course it was no fancy +rashions. Jes corn bread, milk, fat meat, and 'lasses but the Lord knows that was +lots more than other pore niggers got. Some of them had such bad masters.</p> + +<p>Us pore niggers never 'lowed to learn anything. All the readin' they ever hear +was when they was carried through the big Bible. The Massa say that keep the +slaves in they places. They was one nigger boy in Newton who was terrible smart. +He learn to read an' write. He take other colored children out in the fields and +teach 'em about the Bible, but they forgit it 'fore the nex' Sunday.</p> + +<p>Then the paddyrollers they keep close watch on the pore niggers so they have +no chance to do anything or go anywhere. They jes' like policemen, only worser. +'Cause they never let the niggers go anywhere without a pass from his master. If +you wasn't in your proper place when the paddyrollers come they lash you til' you +was black and blue. The women got 15 lashes and the men 30. That is for jes bein' +out without a pass. If the nigger done anything worse he was taken to the jail +and put in the whippin' post. They was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> two holes cut for the arms stretch up in the +air and a block to put your feet in, then they whip you with cowhide whip. An' +the clothes shore never get any of them licks.</p> + +<p>I remember how they kill one nigger whippin' him with the bull whip. Many the +pore nigger nearly killed with the bull whip. But this one die. He was a stubborn +Negro and didn't do as much work as his Massa thought he ought to. He been lashed +lot before. So they take him to the whippin' post, and then they strip his +clothes off and then the man stan' off and cut him with the whip. His back was +cut all to pieces. The cuts about half inch apart. Then after they whip him they +tie him down and put salt on him. Then after he lie in the sun awhile they whip +him agin. But when they finish with him he was dead.</p> + +<p>Plenty of the colored women have children by the white men. She know better +than to not do what he say. Didn't have much of that until the men from South +Carolina come up here and settle and bring slaves. Then they take them very same +children what have they own blood and make slaves out of them. If the Missus find +out she raise revolution. But she hardly find out. The white men not going to +tell and the nigger women were always afraid to. So they jes go on hopin' that +thing won't be that way always.</p> + +<p>I remember how the driver, he was the man who did most of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> the +whippin', use to whip some of the niggers. He would tie their hands together and +then put their hands down over their knees, then take a stick and stick it 'tween +they hands and knees. Then when he take hold of them and beat 'em first on one +side then on the other.</p> + +<p>Us niggers never have chance to go to Sunday School and church. The white +folks feared for niggers to get any religion and education, but I reckon +somethin' inside jes told us about God and that there was a better place +hereafter. We would sneak off and have prayer meetin'. Sometimes the paddyrollers +catch us and beat us good but that didn't keep us from tryin'. I remember one old +song we use to sing when we meet down in the woods back of the barn. My mother +she sing an' pray to the Lord to deliver us out o' slavery. She always say she +thankful she was never sold from her children, and that our Massa not so mean as +some of the others. But the old song it went something like this:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"Oh, mother lets go down, lets go down, lets go down, lets go down.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh, mother lets go down, down in the valley to pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I went down in the valley to pray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Studyin' about that good ole way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who shall wear that starry crown.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Good Lord show me the way."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then the other part was just like that except it said 'father'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> instead of +'mother', and then 'sister' and then 'brother'.</p> + +<p>Then they sing sometime:</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"We camp a while in the wilderness, in the wilderness, in the wilderness.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We camp a while in the wilderness, where the Lord makes me happy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then I'm a goin' home."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I don't remember much about the war. There was no fightin' done in Newton. Jes +a skirmish or two. Most of the people get everything jes ready to run when the +Yankee sojers come through the town. This was toward the las' of the war. Cose +the niggers knew what all the fightin' was about, but they didn't dare say +anything. The man who owned the slaves was too mad as it was, and if the niggers +say anything they get shot right then and thar. The sojers tell us after the war +that we get food, clothes, and wages from our Massas else we leave. But they was +very few that ever got anything. Our ole Massa say he not gwine pay us anything, +corse his money was no good, but he wouldn't pay us if it had been.</p> + +<p>Then the Ku Klux Klan come 'long. They were terrible dangerous. They wear long +gowns, touch the ground. They ride horses through the town at night and if they +find a Negro that tries to get nervy or have a little bit for himself, they lash +him nearly to death and gag him and leave him to do the bes' he can. Some time +they put sticks in the top of the tall thing they wear and then put an extra head +up there with scary eyes and great big<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> mouth, then they stick it clear up in the air +to scare the poor Negroes to death.</p> + +<p>They had another thing they call the 'Donkey Devil' that was jes as bad. They +take the skin of a donkey and get inside of it and run after the pore Negroes. +Oh, Miss them was bad times, them was bad times. I know folks think the books +tell the truth, but they shore don't. Us pore niggers had to take it all.</p> + +<p>Then after the war was over we was afraid to move. Jes like tarpins or turtles +after 'mancipation. Jes stick our heads out to see how the land lay. My mammy +stay with Marse Jonah for 'bout a year after freedom then ole Solomon Hall made +her an offer. Ole man Hall was a good man if there ever was one. He freed all of +his slaves about two years 'fore 'mancipation and gave each of them so much money +when he died, that is he put that in his will. But when he die his sons and +daughters never give anything to the pore Negroes. My mother went to live on the +place belongin' to the nephew of Solomon Hall. All of her six children went with +her. Mother she cook for the white folks an' the children make crop. When the +first year was up us children got the first money we had in our lives. My mother +certainly was happy.</p> + +<p>We live on this place for over four years. When I was 'bout twenty year old I +married a girl from West Virginia but she didn't live but jes 'bout a year. I +stayed down there for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> year or so and then I met Mamie. We came here and both of us went +to work, we work at the same place. We bought this little piece of ground 'bout +forty-two years ago. We gave $125 for it. We had to buy the lumber to build the +house a little at a time but finally we got the house done. Its been a good home +for us and the children. We have two daughters and one adopted son. Both of the +girls are good cooks. One of them lives in New Jersey and cooks in a big hotel. +She and her husband come to see us about once a year. The other one is in +Philadelphia. They both have plenty. But the adopted boy, he was part white. We +took him when he was a small and did the best we could by him. He never did like +to 'sociate with colored people. I remember one time when he was a small child I +took him to town and the conductor made me put him in the front of the street car +cause he thought I was just caring for him and that he was a white boy. Well, we +sent him to school until he finished. Then he joined the navy. I ain't seem him +in several years. The last letter I got from him he say he ain't spoke to a +colored girl since he has been there. This made me mad so I took his insurance +policy and cashed it. I didn't want nothin' to do with him, if he deny his own +color.</p> + +<p>Very few of the Negroes ever get anywhere; they never have no education. I +knew one Negro who got to be a policeman in Salisbury once and he was a good one +too. When my next birthday comes in December I will be eighty-eight years old. +That is if the Lord lets me live and I shore hope He does.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320279]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Mary Wallace Bowe"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Travis Jordan</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1384</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary Wallace Bowe</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-slave 81 Years</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Durham County Home</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Durham, N.C.</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class="hw">Lovely story about Abraham Lincoln</span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<div class="trans-note"> + <sub>[TR: This interview was heavily corrected by hand. i.e. wuz to was, er to + a, etc. Changes made without comment.]</sub> +</div> + +<h4>MARY WALLACE BOWE</h4> + +<h5>Ex-slave 81 years</h5> + +<p>My name is Mary Wallace Bowe. I was nine years ole at de surrender.</p> + +<p>My mammy an' pappy, Susan an' Lillman Graves, first belonged to Marse Fountain +an' Mis' Fanny Tu'berville, but Marse Fountain sold me, my mammy an' my brother +George to Mis' Fanny's sister, Mis' Virginia Graves. Mis' Virginia's husban' was +Marse Doctor Graves. Dey lived on de ole Elijah Graves estate not far from Marse +Fountain's plantation here in Durham county, an' Mis' Virginia an' Mis' Fanny +seed each other near 'bout every day.</p> + +<p>I was little when Marse Fountain an' Marse Doctor went to de war but I +remembers it. I remembers it kaze Mis' Fanny stood on de po'ch smilin' an' wavin' +at Marse Fountain 'til he went 'roun' de curve in de road, den she fell to de +floor like she was dead. I thought she was dead 'till Mis' Virginia th'owed some +water in her face an' she opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>De nex day Mis' Virginia took me an' mammy an' we all went over an' stayed wid +Mis' Fanny kaze she was skeered, an' so dey'd be company for each other. Mammy +waited on Mis' Virginia an' he'ped Surella Tu'berville, Mis' Fanny's house girl, +sweep an' make up de beds an' things. I was little but mammy made me work. I +shook de rugs, brung in de kindlin' an run 'roun' waitin' on Mis' Virginia an' +Mis' Fanny, doin' things like totin' dey basket of keys, bringin' dey shawls and +such as dat. Dey was all de time talkin' about de folks fightin' an' what dey +would do if de Yankees come.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<p>Every time dey talk Mis' Fanny set an' twist her han's an' say: "What is we +gwine do, Sister, what is we gwine do?"</p> + +<p>Mis' Virginia try to pacify Mis' Fanny. She say, 'Don' yo' worry none, Honey, +I'll fix dem Yankees when dey come.' Den she set her mouf. When she done dat I +run an' hid behin' Mis' Fanny's chair kaze I done seed Mis' Virginia set her mouf +befo' an' I knowed she meant biznes'.</p> + +<p>I didn' have sense enough to be skeered den kaze I hadn' never seed no Yankee +sojers, but 'twaren't long befo' I wuz skeered. De Yankees come one mornin', an' +dey ripped, Oh, Lawd, how dey did rip. When dey rode up to de gate an' come +stompin' to de house, Mis' Fanny 'gun to cry. 'Tell dem somethin', Sister, tell +dem somethin'; she tole Mis' Virginia.</p> + +<p>Mis' Virginia she ain' done no cryin'. When she seed dem Yankees comin' 'cross +de hill, she run 'roun' an' got all de jewelry. She took off de rings an' pins +she an' Mis' Fanny had on an' she got all de things out of de jewelry box an' +give dem to pappy. "Hide dem, Lillmam" she tole pappy, 'hide dem some place whare +dem thieves won't find dem'.</p> + +<p>Pappy had on high top boots. He didn' do nothin but stuff all dat jewelry +right down in dem boots, den he strutted all' roun' dem Yankees laughin' to +heself. Dey cussed when dey couldn' fin' no jewelry a tall. Dey didn' fin' no +silver neither kaze us niggers done he'p Mis' Fanny an' Mis' Virginia hide dat. +We done toted it all down to de cottin gin house an' hid it in de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> loose cotton +piled on de floor. When dey couldn' fin' nothin' a big sojer went up to Mis' +Virginia who wuz standin' in de hall. He look at her an' say: 'Yo's skeered of +me, ain' yo'?'</p> + +<p>Mis' Virginia ain' batted no eye yet. She tole him, "If I was gwine to be +skeered, I'd be skeered of somethin'. I sho ain' of no ugly, braggin' +Yankee."</p> + +<p>De man tu'ned red an he say: "If you don' tell me where you done hide dat +silver I'se gwine to make' you skeered."</p> + +<p>Mis' Virginia's chin went up higher. She set her mouf an' look at dat sojer +twell he drap his eyes. Den she tole him dat some folks done come an' got de +silver, dat dey done toted it off. She didn' tell him dat it wuz us niggers dat +done toted it down to de cotton gin house.</p> + +<p>In dem days dey wuz peddlers gwine 'roun' de country sellin' things. Dey toted +big packs on dey backs filled wid everythin' from needles an' thimbles to bed +spreads an' fryin' pans. One day a peddler stopped at Mis' Fanny's house. He was +de uglies' man I ever seed. He was tall an' bony wid black whiskers an' black +bushy hair an' curious eyes dat set way back in his head. Dey was dark an' look +like a dog's eyes after you done hit him. He set down on de po'ch an' opened his +pack, an' it was so hot an' he looked so tired, dat Mis' Fanny give him er cool +drink of milk dat done been settin' in de spring house. All de time Mis' Fanny +was lookin' at de things in de pack an' buyin', de man kept up a runnin' talk. He +ask her how many niggers dey had; how many men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> dey had fightin' on de +'Federate side, an' what wuz was she gwine do if de niggers wuz was set free. Den +he ask her if she knowed Mistah Abraham Lincoln.</p> + +<p>'Bout dat time Mis' Virginia come to de door an' heard what he said. She blaze +up like a lightwood fire an' told dat peddler dat dey didn't want to know nothin' +'bout Mistah Lincoln; dat dey knowed too much already, an' dat his name <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: wasn't"> wuzn</ins> +'lowed called in <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: her">dat</ins> house. Den she say he <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: wasn't">wuzn</ins> +nothin' but a black debil messin' in other folks <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: business">biznes'</ins>, an' dat +she'd shoot him on sight if she had half a chance.</p> + +<p>De man laughed. "Maybe <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: Mr. Lincoln">he</ins> +ain't so bad,' he told her. Den he packed his pack an' went off down de road, an' +Mis' Virginia watched him 'till he went out of sight 'roun' de bend."</p> + +<p>Two or three weeks later Mis' Fanny got a letter. De letter was from dat +peddler. He tole her dat he was Abraham Lincoln hese'f; dat he wuz peddlin' over +de country as a spy, an' he thanked her for de res' on her shady po'ch an' de +cool glass of milk she give him.</p> + +<p>When dat letter come Mis' Virginia got so hoppin' mad dat she took all de +stuff Mis' Fanny done bought from Mistah Lincoln an' made us niggers burn it on +de ash pile. Den she made pappy rake up de ashes an' th'ow dem in de creek.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320148]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Lucy Brown"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>377</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Recollections</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Lucy Brown</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 7 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE RECOLLECTIONS</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Lucy Brown of Hecktown, Durham, Durham County, May 20, +1937. She does not know her age.</h5> + +<p>I wuz jist a little thing when de war wuz over an' I doan 'member much ter +tell yo'. Mostly what I does know I hyard my mammy tell it.</p> + +<p>We belonged to John Neal of Person County. I doan know who my pappy wuz, but +my mammy wuz named Rosseta an' her mammy's name 'fore her wuz Rosseta. I had one +sister named Jenny an' one brother named Ben.</p> + +<p>De marster wuz good ter us, in a way, but he ain't 'lowin' no kinds of +frolickin' so when we had a meetin' we had ter do it secret. We'd turn down a +wash pot outside de do', an' dat would ketch de fuss so marster neber knowed +nothin' 'bout hit.</p> + +<p>On Sundays we went ter church at de same place de white folkses did. De white +folkses rid an' de niggers walked, but eben do' we wored wooden bottomed shoes we +wuz proud an' mostly happy. We had good clothes an' food an' not much abuse. I +doan know de number of slaves, I wuz so little.</p> + +<p>My mammy said dat slavery wuz a whole lot <ins class="edcorr" title="HW +correction: wusser">wuser</ins> 'fore I could 'member. She tol' me how some of de +slaves had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> dere babies in de fiel's lak de cows done, an' she said dat 'fore +de babies wuz borned dey tied de mammy down on her face if'en dey had ter whup +her ter keep from ruinin' de baby.</p> + +<p>She said dat dar wuz ghostes an' some witches back den, but I doan know +nothin' 'bout dem things.</p> + +<p>Naw. I can't tell yo' my age but I will tell yo' dat eber'body what lives in +dis block am either my chile or gran'chile. I can't tell yo' prexackly how many +dar is o' 'em, but I will tell you dat my younges' chile's baby am fourteen years +old, an' dat she's got fourteen <ins class="edcorr" title="HW +correction: youngun's">youngin's </ins>, one a year jist lak I had till I had sixteen.</p> + +<p>I'se belonged ter de church since I wuz a baby an' I tells dem eber'day dat +dey shore will miss me when I'se gone.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320115]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Midge Burnett"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>462</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>PLANTATION LIFE IN GEORGIA</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Reference:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Midge Burnett</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>George L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 6 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<h4>PLANTATION LIFE IN GEORGIA</h4> + +<h4>An interview with Midge Burnett, 80 years old, of 1300 S. Bloodworth Street, +Raleigh, North Carolina.</h4> + +<p>I wus borned in Georgia eighty years ago, de son of Jim an' Henretta Burnett +an' de slave of Marse William Joyner.</p> + +<p>I wurked on de farm durin' slavery times, among de cotton, corn, an' sugar +cane. De wurk wusn't so hard an' we had plenty of time ter have fun an' ter git +inter meanness, dat's why Marse William had ter have so many patterollers on de +place.</p> + +<p>Marse William had near three hundret slaves an' he kept seben patterollers ter +keep things goin' eben. De slaves ain't run away. Naw sir, dey ain't, dey knows +good things when dey sees dem an' dey ain't leavin' dem nother. De only trouble +wus dat dey wus crazy 'bout good times an' dey'd shoot craps er bust.</p> + +<p>De patterollers 'ud watch all de paths leadin' frum de plantation an' when dey +ketched a nigger leavin' dey whupped him an' run him home. As I said de +patterollers watched all paths, but dar wus a number of little paths what run +through de woods dat nobody ain't watched case dey ain't knowed dat de paths wus +dar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>On moonlight nights yo' could hear a heap of voices an' when yo' peep ober de +dike dar am a gang of niggers a-shootin' craps an' bettin' eber'thing dey has +stold frum de plantation. Sometimes a pretty yaller gal er a fat black gal would +be dar, but mostly hit would be jist men.</p> + +<p>Dar wus a ribber nearby de plantation an' we niggers swum dar ever' Sadday an' +we fished dar a heap too. We ketched a big mess of fish ever' week an' dese come +in good an' helped ter save rations ter boot. Dat's what Marse William said, an' +he believed in havin' a good time too.</p> + +<p>We had square dances dat las' all night on holidays an' we had a Christmas +tree an' a Easter egg hunt an' all dat, case Marse William intended ter make us a +civilized bunch of blacks.</p> + +<p>Marse William ain't eber hit one of us a single lick till de day when we heard +dat de Yankees wus a-comin'. One big nigger jumps up an' squalls, 'Lawd bless de +Yankees'.</p> + +<p>Marse yells back, 'God damn de Yankees', an' he slaps big Mose a sumerset +right outen de do'. Nobody else wanted ter git slapped soe ever'body got outen +dar in a hurry an' nobody else dasen't say Yankees ter de marster.</p> + +<p>Eben when somebody seed de Yankees comin' Mose wont go tell de' marster 'bout +hit, but when Marster William wus hilt tight twixt two of dem big husky Yankees +he cussed 'em<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> as hard as he can. Dey carries him off an' dey put him in de jail +at Atlanta an' dey keeps him fer a long time.</p> + +<p>Atter de surrender we left dar an' we moves ter Star, South Carolina, whar I +still wurks 'roun' on de farm. I stayed on dar' till fifty years ago when I +married Roberta Thomas an' we moved ter Raliegh. We have five chilluns an' we's +moughty proud of 'em, but since I had de stroke we has been farin' bad, an' I'se +hopin' ter git my ole aged pension.</p> + +<p><small>EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320274]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Fanny Cannady"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Travis Jordan</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>[TR Added: 1,444</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Fanny Cannady</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave 79 Years</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Durham County</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> + +<h4>FANNY CANNADY</h4> + +<h5>EX-SLAVE 79 years</h5> + +<p>I don' 'member much 'bout de sojers an' de fightin' in de war kaze I wuzn' +much more den six years ole at de surrender, but I do 'member how Marse Jordan +Moss shot Leonard Allen, one of his slaves. I ain't never forgot dat.</p> + +<p>My mammy an' pappy, Silo an' Fanny Moss belonged to Marse Jordan an' Mis' +Sally Moss. Dey had 'bout three hundred niggahs an' mos' of dem worked in de +cotton fields.</p> + +<p>Marse Jordan wuz hard on his niggahs. He worked dem over time an' didn' give +den enough to eat. Dey didn' have good clothes neither an' dey shoes wuz made out +of wood. He had 'bout a dozen niggahs dat didn' do nothin' else but make wooden +shoes for de slaves. De chillun didn' have no shoes a tall; dey went barefooted +in de snow an' ice same as 'twuz summer time. I never had no shoes on my feets +'twell I wuz pas' ten years ole, an' dat wuz after de Yankees done set us +free.</p> + +<p>I wuz skeered of Marse Jordan, an' all of de grown niggahs wuz too 'cept +Leonard an' Burrus Allen. Dem niggahs wuzn' skeered of nothin'. If de debil +hese'f had come an' shook er stick at dem dey'd hit him back. Leonard wuz er big +black buck niggah; he wuz de bigges niggah I ever seed, an' Burrus wuz near 'bout +as big, an' dey 'spized Marse Jordan wus'n pizen.</p> + +<p>I wuz sort of skeered of Mis' Polly too. When Marse Jordan wuzn' 'roun' she +wuz sweet an' kind, but when he wuz 'roun', she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> wuz er yes, suh, yes, suh, +woman. Everythin' he tole her to do she done. He made her slap Marmy one time +kaze when she passed his coffee she spilled some in de saucer. Mis' Sally hit +Mammy easy, but Marse Jordan say: 'Hit her, Sally, hit de black bitch like she +'zerve to be hit.' Den Mis' Sally draw back her hand an' hit Mammy in de face, +pow, den she went back to her place at de table an' play like she eatin' her +breakfas'. Den when Marse Jordan leave she come in de kitchen an' put her arms +'roun' Mammy an' cry, an' Mammy pat her on de back an' she cry too. I loved Mis' +Sally when Marse Jordan wuzn' 'roun'.</p> + +<p>Marse Jordan's two sons went to de war; dey went all dressed up in dey +fightin' clothes. Young Marse Jordan wuz jus' like Mis' Sally but Marse Gregory +wuz like Marse Jordan, even to de bully way he walk. Young Marse Jordan never +come back from de war, but 'twould take more den er bullet to kill Marse Gregory; +he too mean to die anyhow kaze de debil didn' want him an' de Lawd wouldn' have +him.</p> + +<p>One day Marse Gregory come home on er furlo'. He think he look pretty wid his +sword clankin' an' his boots shinin'. He wuz er colonel, lootenent er somethin'. +He wuz struttin' 'roun' de yard showin' off, when Leonard Allen say under his +breath, 'Look at dat God damn sojer. He fightin' to keep us niggahs from bein' +free.'</p> + +<p>'Bout dat time Marse Jordan come up. He look at Leonard an' say: 'What yo' +mumblin' 'bout?'</p> + +<p>Dat big Leonard wuzn' skeered. He say, I say, 'Look at dat God damn sojer. He +fightin' to keep us niggahs from bein' free.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>Marse Jordan's face begun to swell. It turned so red dat de blood near 'bout +bust out. He turned to Pappy an' tole him to go an' bring him dis shot gun. When +Pappy come back Mis' Sally come wid him. De tears wuz streamin' down her face. +She run up to Marse Jordan an' caught his arm. Ole Marse flung her off an' took +de gun from Pappy. He leveled it on Leonard an' tole him to pull his shirt open. +Leonard opened his shirt an' stood dare big as er black giant sneerin' at Ole +Marse.</p> + +<p>Den Mis' Sally run up again an' stood 'tween dat gun an' Leonard.</p> + +<p>Ole Marse yell to pappy an' tole him to take dat woman out of de way, but +nobody ain't moved to touch Mis' Sally, an' she didn' move neither, she jus' +stood dare facin' Ole Marse. Den Ole Marse let down de gun. He reached over an' +slapped Mis' Sally down, den picked up de gun an' shot er hole in Leonard's ches' +big as yo' fis'. Den he took up Mis' Sally an' toted her in de house. But I wuz +so skeered dat I run an' hid in de stable loft, an' even wid my eyes shut I could +see Leonard layin' on de groun' wid dat bloody hole in his ches' an' dat sneer on +his black mouf.</p> + +<p>After dat Leonard's brother Burrus hated Ole Marse wus' er snake, den one +night he run away. Mammy say he run away to keep from killin' Ole Marse. Anyhow, +when Ole Marse foun' he wuz gone, he took er bunch of niggahs an' set out to find +him. All day long dey tromped de woods, den when night come dey lit fat pine +to'ches an' kept lookin', but dey couldn' find Burrus. De nex' day Ole Marse went +down to de county jail an' got de blood houn's. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> brung home er great passel of +dem yelpin' an' pullin' at de ropes, but when he turned dem loose dey didn' find +Burrus, kaze he done grease de bottom of his feets wid snuff an' hog lard so de +dogs couldn' smell de trail. Ole Marse den tole all de niggahs dat if anybody +housed an' fed Burrus on de sly, dat he goin' to shoot dem like he done shot +Leonard. Den he went every day an' searched de cabins; he even looked under de +houses.</p> + +<p>One day in 'bout er week Mis' Sally wuz feedin' de chickens when she heard +somethin' in de polk berry bushes behin' de hen house. She didn' go 'roun' de +house but she went inside house an' looked through de crack. Dare wuz Burrus +layin' down in de bushes. He wuz near 'bout starved kaze he hadn' had nothin' to +eat since he done run away.</p> + +<p>Mis' Sally whisper an' tole him to lay still, dat she goin' to slip him +somethin' to eat. She went back to de house an' made up some more cawn meal dough +for de chickens, an' under de dough she put some bread an' meat. When she went +'cross de yard she met Marse Jordan. He took de pan of dough an' say he goin' to +feed de chickens. My mammy say dat Mis' Sally ain't showed no skeer, she jus' +smile at Ole Marse an' pat his arm, den while she talk she take de pan an' go on +to de chicken house, but Ole Marse he go too. When dey got to de hen house Ole +Marse puppy begun sniffin' 'roun'. Soon he sta'ted to bark; he cut up such er +fuss dat Ole Marse went to see what wuz wrong. Den he foun' Burrus layin' in de +polk bushes.</p> + +<p>Ole Marse drag Burrus out an' drove him to de house. When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> Mis' Sally +seed him take out his plaited whip, she run up stairs an' jump in de bed an' +stuff er pillow over her head.</p> + +<p>Dey took Burrus to de whippin' post. Dey strip off his shirt, den dey put his +head an' hands through de holes in de top, an' tied his feets to de bottom, den, +Ole Marse took de whip. Dat lash hiss like col' water on er red hot iron when it +come through de air, an' every time it hit Burrus it lef' er streak of blood. +Time Ole Marse finish, Burrus' back look like er piece of raw beef.</p> + +<p>Dey laid Burrus face down on er plank den dey poured turpentine in all dem cut +places. It burned like fire but dat niggah didn' know nothin' 'bout it kaze he +done passed out from pain. But, all his life dat black man toted dem scares on +his back.</p> + +<p>When de war ended Mis' Sally come to Mammy an' say: 'Fanny, I's sho glad yo's +free. Yo' can go now an' yo' won' ever have to be er slave no more.'</p> + +<p>But Mammy, she ain't had no notion of leavin' Mis' Sally. She put her arms' +roun' her an' call her Baby, an' tell her she goin' to stay wid her long as she +live. An' she did stay wid her. Me an' Mammy bof stayed Mis' Sally 'twell she +died.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320193]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Aunt Betty Cofer"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Field Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Esther S. Pinnix</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Word Total:</b></td><td align='left'><b>3199</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>P. G. Cross</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"Negro Folklore of the Piedmont".</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Consultants:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs. P. G. Cross</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Miss Kate Jones,</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Descendants of Dr. Beverly Jones.</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<h5>Sources of Information:<br /> +Aunt Betty Cofer—ex-slave of Dr. Beverly Jones</h5> + +<h4>NEGRO FOLK LORE OF THE PIEDMONT.</h4> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> + +<p>The ranks of negro ex-slaves are rapidly thinning out, but, scattered here and +there among the ante-bellum families of the South, may be found a few of these +picturesque old characters. Three miles north of Bethania, the second oldest +settlement of the "Unitas Fratrum" in Wachovia, lies the 1500 acre Jones +plantation. It has been owned for several generations by the one family, +descendants of Abraham Conrad. Conrad's daughter, Julia, married a physician of +note, Dr. Beverly Jones, whose family occupied the old homestead at the time of +the Civil War.</p> + +<p>Here, in 1856, was born a negro girl, Betty, to a slave mother. Here, today, +under the friendly protection of this same Jones family, surrounded by her sons +and her sons' sons, lives this same Betty in her own little weather-stained +cottage. Encircling her house are lilacs, althea, and flowering trees that soften +the bleak outlines of unpainted out-buildings. A varied collection of +old-fashioned plants and flowers crowd the neatly swept dooryard. A friendly +German-shepherd puppy rouses from his nap on the sunny porch to greet visitors +enthusiastically. In answer to our knock a gentle voice calls, "Come in." The +door opens directly into a small, low-ceilinged room almost filled by two double +beds. These beds are conspicuously clean and covered by homemade crocheted +spreads. Wide bands of hand-made insertion ornament the stiffly starched pillow +slips. Against the wall is a plain oak dresser. Although the day is warm, +two-foot logs burn on the age-worn andirons of the wide brick fire place. From +the shelf above dangles a leather bag of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> "spills" made from twisted newspapers.</p> + +<p>In a low, split-bottom chair, her rheumatic old feet resting on the warm brick +hearth, sits Aunt Betty Cofer. Her frail body stoops under the weight of +four-score years but her bright eyes and alert mind are those of a woman thirty +years younger. A blue-checked mob cap covers her grizzled hair. Her tiny frame, +clothed in a motley collection of undergarments, dress, and sweaters, is adorned +by a clean white apron. Although a little shy of her strange white visitors, her +innate dignity, gentle courtesy, and complete self possession indicate long +association with "quality folks."</p> + +<p>Her speech shows a noticeable freedom from the usual heavy negro dialect and +idiom of the deep south. "Yes, Ma'am, yes, Sir, come in. Pull a chair to the +fire. You'll have to 'scuse me. I can't get around much, 'cause my feet and legs +bother me, but I got good eyes an' good ears an' all my own teeth. I aint never +had a bad tooth in my head. Yes'm, I'm 81, going on 82. Marster done wrote my age +down in his book where he kep' the names of all his colored folks. Muh (Mother) +belonged to Dr. Jones but Pappy belonged to Marse Israel Lash over yonder. +(Pointing northwest.) Younguns always went with their mammies so I belonged to +the Joneses.</p> + +<p>Muh and Pappy could visit back and forth sometimes but they never lived +together 'til after freedom. Yes'm, we was happy. We got plenty to eat. Marster +and old Miss Julia (Dr. Jones' wife, matriarch of the whole plantation) was +mighty strict but they was good to us. Colored folks on some of the other +plantations wasn't so lucky. Some of' em had overseers, mean, cruel men. On one +plantation the field hands had to hustle to git to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> end of the row at eleven +o'clock dinner-time 'cause when the cooks brought their dinner they had to stop +just where they was and eat, an' the sun was mighty hot out in those fields. They +only had ash cakes (corn pone baked in ashes) without salt, and molasses for +their dinner, but we had beans an' grits an' salt an' sometimes meat.</p> + +<p>I was lucky. Miss Ella (daughter of the first Beverly Jones) was a little girl +when I was borned and she claimed me. We played together an' grew up together. I +waited on her an' most times slept on the floor in her room. Muh was cook an' +when I done got big enough I helped to set the table in the big dinin' room. Then +I'd put on a clean white apron an' carry in the victuals an' stand behind Miss +Ella's chair. She'd fix me a piece of somethin' from her plate an' hand it back +over her shoulder to me (eloquent hands illustrate Miss Ella's making of a +sandwich.) I'd take it an' run outside to eat it. Then I'd wipe my mouth an' go +back to stand behind Miss Ella again an' maybe get another snack.</p> + +<p>Yes'm, there was a crowd of hands on the plantation. I mind 'em all an' I can +call most of their names. Mac, Curley, William, Sanford, Lewis, Henry, Ed, +Sylvester, Hamp, an' Juke was the men folks. The women was Nellie, two Lucys, +Martha, Nervie, Jane, Laura, Fannie, Lizzie, Cassie, Tensie, Lindy, an' Mary +Jane. The women mostly, worked in the house. There was always two washwomen, a +cook, some hands to help her, two sewin' women, a house girl, an' some who did +all the weavin' an' spinnin'. The men worked in the fields an' yard. One was +stable boss an' looked after all the horses an' mules. We raised our own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> flax an' +cotton an' wool, spun the thread, wove the cloth, made all the clothes. Yes'm, we +made the mens' shirts an' pants an' coats. One woman knitted all the stockin's +for the white folks an' colored folks too. I mind she had one finger all twisted +an' stiff from holdin' her knittin' needles. We wove the cotton an' linen for +sheets an' pillow-slips an' table covers. We wove the wool blankets too. I use to +wait on the girl who did the weavin' when she took the cloth off the loom she +done give me the 'thrums' (ends of thread left on the loom.) I tied 'em all +together with teensy little knots an' got me some scraps from the sewin' room and +I made me some quilt tops. Some of 'em was real pretty too! (Pride of workmanship +evidenced by a toss of Betty's head.)</p> + +<p>All our spinnin' wheels and flax wheels and looms was hand-made by a wheel +wright, Marse Noah Westmoreland. He lived over yonder. (A thumb indicates north.) +Those old wheels are still in the family'. I got one of the flax wheels. Miss +Ella done give it to me for a present. Leather was tanned an' shoes was made on +the place. 'Course the hands mostly went barefoot in warm weather, white chillen +too. We had our own mill to grind the wheat and corn an' we raised all our meat. +We made our own candles from tallow and beeswax. I 'spect some of the old candle +moulds are over to 'the house' now. We wove our own candle wicks too. I never saw +a match 'til I was a grown woman. We made our fire with flint an' punk (rotten +wood). Yes'm, I was trained to cook an' clean an' sew. I learned to make mens' +pants an' coats. First coat I made, Miss Julia told me to rip the collar off, an' +by the time I picked out all the teensy stitches an' sewed it together again I +could set a collar right! I can do it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> today, too! (Again there is manifested a good +workman's pardonable pride of achievement)</p> + +<p>Miss Julia cut out all the clothes herself for men and women too. I 'spect her +big shears an' patterns an' old cuttin' table are over at the house now. Miss +Julia cut out all the clothes an' then the colored girls sewed 'em up but she +looked 'em all over and they better be sewed right! Miss Julia bossed the whole +plantation. She looked after the sick folks and sent the doctor (Dr. Jones) to +dose 'em and she carried the keys to the store-rooms and pantries.</p> + +<p><span class="hw" title="New paragraph indicated">HW</span> Yes'm, I'm some educated. Muh +showed me my 'a-b-abs' and my numbers and when I was fifteen I went to school in +the log church built by the Moravians. They give it to the colored folks to use +for their own school and church. (This log house is still standing near +Bethania). Our teacher was a white man, Marse Fulk. He had one eye, done lost the +other in the war. We didn't have no colored teachers then. They wasn't educated. +We 'tended school four months a year. I went through the fifth reader, the 'North +Carolina Reader'. I can figger a little an' read some but I can't write much +'cause my fingers 're—all stiffened up. Miss Julia use to read the bible to +us an' tell us right an' wrong, and Muh showed me all she could an' so did the +other colored folks. Mostly they was kind to each other.</p> + +<p>No'm, I don't know much about spells an' charms. Course most of the old folks +believed in 'em. One colored man use to make charms, little bags filled with +queer things. He called 'em 'jacks' an' sold 'em to the colored folks an' some +white folks too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yes'm, I saw some slaves sold away from the plantation, four men and two +women, both of 'em with little babies. The traders got 'em. Sold 'em down to +Mobile, Alabama. One was my pappy's sister. We never heard from her again. I saw +a likely young feller sold for $1500. That was my Uncle Ike. Marse Jonathan +Spease bought him and kept him the rest of his life.</p> + +<p>Yes'm, we saw Yankee soldiers. (Stoneman's Cavalry in 1865.) They come +marchin' by and stopped at 'the house. I wasn't scared 'cause they was all +talkin' and laughin' and friendly but they sure was hongry. They dumped the wet +clothes out of the big wash-pot in the yard and filled it with water. Then they +broke into the smokehouse and got a lot of hams and biled 'em in the pot and ate +'em right there in the yard. The women cooked up a lot of corn pone for 'em and +coffee too. Marster had a barrel of 'likker' put by an' the Yankees knocked the +head in an' filled their canteens. There wasn't ary drop left. When we heard the +soldiers comin' our boys turned the horses loose in the woods. The Yankees said +they had to have 'em an' would burn the house down if we didn't get 'em. So our +boys whistled up the horses an' the soldiers carried 'em all off. They carried +off ol' Jennie mule too but let little Jack mule go. When the soldiers was gone +the stable boss said,'if ol' Jennie mule once gits loose nobody on earth can +catch her unless she wants. She'll be back!' Sure enough, in a couple of days she +come home by herself an' we worked the farm jus' with her an' little Jack.</p> + +<p>Some of the colored folks followed the Yankees away. Five or six of our boys +went. Two of 'em travelled as far as Yadkinville but come back. The rest of 'em +kep' goin' an' we never heard tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> of' em again.</p> + +<p>Yes'm, when we was freed Pappy come to get Muh and me. We stayed around here. +Where could we go? These was our folks and I couldn't go far away from Miss Ella. +We moved out near Rural Hall (some 5 miles from Bethania) an' Pappy farmed, but I +worked at the home place a lot. When I was about twenty-four Marse R. J. Reynolds +come from Virginia an' set up a tobacco factory. He fotched some hands with 'im. +One was a likely young feller, named Cofer, from Patrick County, Virginia. I +liked 'im an' we got married an' moved back here to my folks.(the Jones family) +We started to buy our little place an' raise a family. I done had four chillen +but two's dead. I got grandchillen and great-grandchillen close by. This is home +to us. When we talk about the old home place (the Jones residence, now some +hundred years old) we just say 'the house' 'cause there's only one house to us. +The rest of the family was all fine folks and good to me but I loved Miss Ella +better'n any one or anythin' else in the world. She was the best friend I ever +had. If I ever wanted for anythin' I just asked her an she give it to me or got +it for me somehow. Once when Cofer was in his last sickness his sister come from +East Liverpool, Ohio, to see 'im. I went to Miss Ella to borrow a little money. +She didn't have no change but she just took a ten dollar bill from her purse an' +says 'Here you are, Betty, use what you need and bring me what's left'.</p> + +<p>I always did what I could for her too an' stood by her—but one time. +That was when we was little girls goin' together to fetch the mail. It was hot +an' dusty an' we stopped to cool off an' wade in the 'branch'. We heard a horse +trottin' an' looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> up an' there was Marster switchin' his ridin' whip an' lookin' at +us. 'Git for home, you two, and I'll 'tend to you,' he says, an' we got! But this +time I let Miss Ella go to 'the house' alone an' I sneaked aroun' to Granny's +cabin an' hid. I was afraid I'd git whupped! 'Nother time, Miss Ella went to town +an' told me to keep up her fire whilst she was away. I fell asleep on the hearth +and the fire done burnt out so's when Miss Ella come home the room was cold. She +was mad as hops. Said she never had hit me but she sure felt like doin' it +then.</p> + +<p>Yes'm, I been here a right smart while. I done lived to see three generations +of my white folks come an' go, an' they're the finest folks on earth. There use +to be a reg'lar buryin' ground for the plantation hands. The colored chillen use +to play there but I always played with the white chillen. (This accounts for Aunt +Betty's gentle manner and speech.) Three of the old log cabins (slave cabins) is +there yet. One of 'em was the 'boys cabin'. (house for boys and unmarried men) +They've got walls a foot thick an' are used for store-rooms now. After freedom we +buried out around our little churches but some of th' old grounds are plowed +under an' turned into pasture cause the colored folks didn't get no deeds to 'em. +It won't be long 'fore I go too but I'm gwine lie near my old home an' my +folks.</p> + +<p>Yes'm, I remember Marse Israel Lash, my Pappy's Marster. He was a low, +thick-set man, very jolly an' friendly. He was real smart an' good too, 'cause +his colored folks all loved 'im. He worked in the bank an' when the Yankees come, +'stead of shuttin' the door 'gainst 'em like the others did, he bid 'em welcome. +(Betty's nodding head, expansive smile and wide-spread hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> eloquently +pantomime the banker's greeting.) So the Yankees done took the bank but give it +back to 'im for his very own an' he kep' it but there was lots of bad feelin' +'cause he never give folks the money they put in the old bank. (Possibly this +explains the closing of the branch of the Cape Fear Bank in Salem and opening of +Israel Lash's own institution, the First National Bank of Salem, 1866.)</p> + +<p>I saw General Robert E. Lee, too. After the war he come with some friends to a +meeting at Five Forks Baptist Church. All the white folks gathered 'round an' +shook his hand an' I peeked 'tween their legs an' got a good look at' im. But he +didn't have no whiskers, he was smooth-face! (Pictures of General Lee all show +him with beard and mustache)</p> + +<p>Miss Ella died two years ago. I was sick in the hospital but the doctor come +to tell me. I couldn't go to her buryin'. I sure missed her. (Poignant grief +moistens Betty's eyes and thickens her voice). There wasn't ever no one like her. +Miss Kate an' young Miss Julia still live at 'the house' with their brother, +Marse Lucian (all children of the first Beverly Jones and 'old Miss Julia',) but +it don't seem right with Miss Ella gone. Life seems dif'rent, some how, 'though +there' lots of my young white folks an' my own kin livin' round an' they're real +good to me. But Miss Ella's gone!</p> + +<p>"Goodday, Ma'am. Come anytime. You're welcome to. I'm right glad to have +visitors 'cause I can't get out much." A bobbing little curtsy accompanies +Betty's cordial farewell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>Although a freed woman for 71 years, property owner for half of them, and now +revered head of a clan of self respecting, self-supporting colored citizens, she +is still at heart a "Jones negro," and all the distinguished descendants of her +beloved Marse Beverly and Miss Julia will be her "own folks" as long as she +lives.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320188]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="John Coggin"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>340</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>John Coggin</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 228px;"> +<img src="images/j_coggin.jpg" width="228" height="300" alt="j_coggin" title="Louisa Adams" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + +<h4>JOHN COGGIN.</h4> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story.<br /> +An interview with John Coggin 85, of Method, N.C.</h5> + +<p>When the interviewer first visited Uncle John he was busy cutting hay for a +white family nearby, swinging the scythe with the vigor of a young man. In late +afternoon he was found sitting on the doorsteps of his granddaughter's house +after a supper which certainly had onions on the menu and was followed by +something stronger than water.</p> + +<p>"I was borned on March 1, 1852 in Orange County. My mammy wuz named Phillis +Fenn an' she wuz from Virginia. I ain't neber had no paw an' I ain't wanted none, +I ain't had no brothers nar sisters nother."</p> + +<p>"We 'longed ter Doctor Jim Leathers, an' de only whuppin' I eber got wuz 'bout +fightin' wid young Miss Agnes, who wuz sommers long' bout my age. Hit wuz jist a +little whuppin' but I' members hit all right."</p> + +<p>"We wucked de fiel's, I totin' water fer de six or seben han's that wucked +dar. An' we jist wucked moderate like. We had plenty ter eat an' plenty ter w'ar, +do' we did go barefooted most of de year. De marster shore wuz good ter us +do'."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg +178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I 'members dat de fust I hyard of de Yankees wuz when young marster come in +an' says, 'Lawd pa, de Yankees am in Raleigh.'"</p> + +<p>"Dat ebenin' I wuz drawin' water when all of a sudden I looks up de road, an' +de air am dark wid Yankees. I neber seed so many mens, hosses an' mules in my +life. De band wuz playin' an' de soldiers wuz hollerin' an' de hosses wuz +prancin' high. I done what all of de rest o' de slaves done, I run fer de +woods."</p> + +<p>"Atter de surrender we moved ter a place nigh Dix Hill hyar in Raleigh an' my +mammy married a Coggin, dar's whar I gits my name. All of us slaves moved dar an' +farmed."</p> + +<p>"Way long time atter dat ole Marster Jim come ter visit his niggers, an' we +had a big supper in his honor. Dat night he died, an' 'fore he died his min' +sorta wanders an' he thinks dat hit am back in de slave days an' dat atter a long +journey he am comin' back home. Hit shore wuz pitiful an' we shore did hate +it."</p> + +<p>"Yes 'um honey, we got 'long all right atter de war. You knows dat niggers +ain't had no sense den, now dey has. Look at dese hyar seben chilluns, dey am my +great gran'chillun an' dey got a heap mo' sense dan I has right now."</p> + +<p><small>EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320150]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Mandy Coverson"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>433</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>MANDY COVERSON</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mandy Coverson</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 7 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> + +<h4>MANDY COVERSON</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story<br /> +An interview with Mandy Coverson, 78, of 103 South Wilmington Street, +Raleigh.</h5> + +<p>I wuz borned in Union County to Sarah an' Henderson Tomberlin. My mother +belonged to Mr. Moses Coverson, an' my pappy belonged to Mr. Jackie Tom +Tomberlin. I stayed wid my mammy, of course, an' Marster Moses wuz good ter me. +Dey warn't so good ter my mammy, case dey makes her wuck frum sunup till sundown +in de hot summertime, an' she ain't had no fun at all. She plowed two oxes, an' +if'en yo' has eber been around a steer yo' knows what aggravatin' things dey +is.</p> + +<p>De oberseer, whose name I'se plumb forget, wuz pore white trash an' he wuz +meaner dan de meanest nigger. Anyhow I wuz too little ter do much wuck so I +played a heap an' I had a big time.</p> + +<p>My mammy, died 'fore I wuz very old an' missus kept me in de house. I wuz +petted by her, an' I reckon spoiled. Yo' knows dat den de niggers ain't neber eat +no biscuits but missus always gimmie one eber meal an' in dat way she got me +interested in waitin' on de table.</p> + +<p>I wuzn't old enough ter know much, but I does 'member how de fambly hid all de +valuables 'fore de Yankees come, an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> dat Marster Moses in pickin' up de big brass +andirons hurt his back an' dey said dat dat wuz de cause of his death a little +while atterwards. Anyhow de andirons wuz saved an' dar warn't no trouble wid de +Yankees who comed our way, an' dey ain't hurt nobody dar.</p> + +<p>Dey did kill all de things dat dey could eat an' dey stold de rest of de feed +stuff. Dey make one nigger boy draw water fer dere hosses fer a day an' night. De +Yankees wuz mean 'bout cussin', but de southern soldiers wuz jist as bad. +Wheeler's Cavalry wuz de meanest in de whole bunch, I thinks.</p> + +<p>De Ku Kluxes wuz pretty mean, but dey picked dere spite on de Free Issues. I +doan know why dey done dis 'cept dat dey ain't wantin' no niggers a-favorin' dem +nigh by, now dat slavery am ober. Dey done a heap of beatin' an' chasin' folkses +out'n de country but I 'specks dat de Carpet Bagger's rule wuz mostly de cause of +it.</p> + +<p>I married Daniel Coverson, a slave on de same plantation I wuz on, an' forty +years ago we moved ter Raleigh. We had a hard time but I'se glad dat he an' me am +free an' doan belong ter two diff'ent famblies.</p> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320212]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Willie Cozart"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>914</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Willie Cozart</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An Interview by Mary A. Hicks with Willis Cozart of Zebulon, (Wake Co. N.C.) +Age 92. May 12, 1937.</h5> + +<p>No mam, Mistress, I doan want ter ride in no automobile, thank you, I'se done +walked these three miles frum Zebulon an' walkin' is what has kept me goin' all +dese years.</p> + +<p>Yes'm I'se a bachelor an' I wuz borned on June 11, 1845 in Person County. My +papa wuz named Ed an' my maw wuz named Sally. Dar wuz ten of us youngins, Morris, +Dallas, Stephen, Jerry, Florence, Polly, Lena, Phillis, Caroline, an' me. Mr. +Starling Oakley of Person County, near Roxboro wuz my master an' as long as him +an' ole mistress lived I went back ter see dem.</p> + +<p>He wuz right good to de good niggers an' kinder strick wid de bad ones. +Pusonly he ain't never have me whupped but two or three times. You's hyard 'bout +dese set down strikes lately, well dey ain't de fust ones. Onct when I wuz four +or five years old, too little to wuck in de fiel's, my master sot me an' some +more little chilluns ter wuck pullin' up weeds roun' de house. Well, I makes a +speech and I tells dem le's doan wuck none so out we sprawls on de grass under de +apple tree. Atter awhile ole master found us dar, an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> when he fin's dat I wuz de +ring-leader he gives me a little whuppin'.</p> + +<p>Hit wuz a big plantation, round 1,200 acres o' land, I reckon, an' he had +'bout seventy or eighty slaves to wuck de cotton, corn, tobacco an' de wheat an' +vege'bles. De big house wuz sumpin to look at, but de slave cabins wuz jist log +huts wid sand floors, and stick an' dirt chimneys. We wuz 'lowed ter have a +little patch o' garden stuff at de back but no chickens ner pigs. De only way we +had er' makin' money wuz by pickin' berries an' sellin' 'em. We ain't had much +time to do dat, case we wucked frum sunup till sundown six days a week.</p> + +<p>De master fed us as good as he knowed how, but it wuz mostly on bread, meat, +an' vege'bles.</p> + +<p>I 'members seberal slave sales whar dey sold de pappy or de mammy 'way frum de +chillums an' dat wuz a sad time. Dey led dem up one at de time an' axed dem +questions an' dey warn't many what wuz chained, only de bad ones, an' sometime +when dey wuz travelin' it wuz necessary to chain a new gang.</p> + +<p>I'se seed niggers beat till da blood run, an' I'se seed plenty more wid big +scars, frum whuppin's but dey wuz de bad ones. You wuz whupped 'cordin ter de +deed yo' done in dem days. A moderate whuppin' wuz thirty-nine or forty lashes +an' a real whuppin' wuz a even hundred; most folks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> can't stand a real +whuppin'.</p> + +<p>Frum all dis you might think dat we ain't had no good times, but we had our +co'n shuckin's, candy pullin's an' sich like. We ain't felt like huntin' much, +but I did go on a few fox hunts wid de master. I uster go fishin' too, but I +ain't been now since 1873, I reckon. We sometimes went ter de neighborhood +affairs if'n we wuz good, but if we wuzn't an' didn't git a pass de +patter-rollers would shore git us. When dey got through whuppin' a nigger he +knowed he wuz whupped too.</p> + +<p>De slave weddin's in dat country wuz sorta dis way: de man axed de master fer +de 'oman an' he jist told dem ter step over de broom an' dat wuz de way dey got +married dem days; de pore white folks done de same way.</p> + +<p>Atter de war started de white folks tried ter keep us niggers frum knowin' +'bout it, but de news got aroun' somehow, an' dar wuz some talk of gittin' shet +of de master's family an' gittin' rich. De plans didn't 'mout to nothin' an' so +de Yankees come down.</p> + +<p>I 'members moughty well when de Yankees come through our country. Dey stold +ever'thing dey could find an' I 'members what ole master said. He says, 'Ever' +one dat wants ter wuck fer me git in de patch ter pullin' dat forty acres of +fodder an' all dat don't git up de road wid dem d—— Yankees.' Well we +all went away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dat winter wuz tough, all de niggers near 'bout starved ter death, an' we +ain't seed nothin' of de forty acres of land an' de mule what de Yankees done +promise us nother. Atter awhile we had ter go ter our ole masters an' ax 'em fer +bread ter keep us alive.</p> + +<p>De Klu Klux Klan sprung right up out of de earth, but de Yankees put a stop +ter dat by puttin' so many of dem in jail. Dey do say dat dat's what de State +Prison wus built fer.</p> + +<p>I never believed in witches an' I ain't put much stock in hain'ts but I'se +seed a few things durin' my life dat I can't 'splain, like de thing wid de red +eyes dat mocked me one night; but shucks I ain't believin' in dem things much. +I'se plowed my lan', tended it year atter year, lived by myself an' all, an' I +ain't got hurted yet, but I ain't never rid in a automobile yet, an' I got one +tooth left.</p> + +<p><small>B. N.</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320159]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Hannah Crasson"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1453</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>HANNAH CRASSON</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Hannah Crasson</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="trans-note">HW notes at bottom of page illegible</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 225px;"> +<img src="images/h_crasson.jpg" width="225" height="300" alt="h_crasson" title="Hannah Crasson" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + +<h4>HANNAH CRASSON</h4> + +<p>My name is Hannah Crasson. I wuz born on John William Walton's plantation 4 +miles from Garner and 13 miles from Raleigh, N. C. in the County of Wake. I am 84 +years ole the 2nd day uv dis las' gone March. I belonged to Mr. John William +Walton in slavery time. My missus wuz named Miss Martha.</p> + +<p>My father wuz named Frank Walton. My mother wuz named Flora Walton. Grandma +wuz 104 years when she died. She died down at de old plantation. My brothers were +named Johnnie and Lang. My sisters were Adeline, Violet, Mary, Sarah, Ellen, and +Annie. Four of us are livin', Ellen, Mary, Sarah and me.</p> + +<p>De old boss man wuz good to us. I wuz talkin' about him the udder night. He +didn't whup us and he said, he didn't want nobody else to whup us. It is jis like +I tell you; he wuz never cruel to us. One uv his sons wuz cruel to us. We had a +plenty to eat, we shore did, plenty to eat. We had nice houses to live in too. +Grandma had a large room to live in, and we had one to live in. Daddy stayed at +home with mother. They worked their patches by moonlight; and worked for the +white folks in the day time.</p> + +<p>They sold what they made. Marster bought it and paid for it. He made a barrel +o' rice every year, my daddy did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Bell Allen owned slaves too. He had a plenty o' niggers. His plantation +wuz 5 miles from ourn. We went to church at the white folks church. When Mr. Bell +Allen seed us cummin' he would say, 'Yonder comes John Walton's free +niggers.'</p> + +<p>Our marster would not sell his slaves. He give dem to his children when they +married off do'. I swept yards, churned, fed the chickens. In de ebening I would +go with my missus a fishin'. We eat collards, peas, corn bread, milk, and rice. +We got biskit and butter twice a week. I thought dat de best things I ever et wuz +butter spread on biskit. We had a corn mill and a flour mill on the plantation. +There wuz about 24 slaves on de place. Dey had brandy made on de plantation, and +de marster gib all his slaves some for dere own uses.</p> + +<p>My grandmother and mother wove our clothes. Dey were called homespun. Dey made +de shoes on de plantation too. I wuz not married til atter de surrender. I did +not dress de finest in the world; but I had nice clothes. My wedding dress wuz +made of cream silk, made princess with pink and cream bows. I wore a pair of +morocco store bought shoes. My husband was dressed in a store bought suit of +clothes, the coat wuz made <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: pigeon">pigen </ins> +tail. He had on a velvet vest and a white collar and tie. Somebody stole de ves' +atter dat.</p> + +<p>One of our master's daughters wuz cruel. Sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> she would go out and rare on +us, but old marster didn't want us whupped.</p> + +<p>Our great grand mother wuz named granny Flora. Dey stole her frum Africa wid a +red pocket handkerchief. Old man John William got my great grandmother. De people +in New England got scured of we niggers. Dey were afrid me would rise aginst em +and dey pushed us on down South. Lawd, why didn't dey let us stay whur we wuz, +dey nebber wouldn't a been so menny half white niggers, but the old marster wuz +to blame for that.</p> + +<p>We never saw any slaves sold. They carried them off to sell 'em. The slaves +travelled in droves. Fathers and mothers were sold from their chilluns. Chilluns +wuz sold from their parents on de plantations close to us. Where we went to +church, we sat in a place away from de white folks. The slaves never did run away +from marster, because he wuz good to 'em; but they run away from other +plantations.</p> + +<p>Yes, we seed the patterollers, we called 'em pore white trash, we also called +patterollers pore white pecks. They had ropes around their necks. They came to +our house one night when we were singin' and prayin'. It wuz jist before the +surrender. Dey were hired by de slave owner. My daddy told us to show 'em de +brandy our marster gib us, den dey went on a way, kase dey knowed John Walton wuz +a funny man about his slaves. Dey gave us Christmas and other holidays. Den dey, +de men, would go to see dere<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> wives. Some of the men's wives belong to other +marsters on other plantations. We had corn shuckin's at night, and candy +pullin's. Sometimes we had quiltings and dances.</p> + +<p>One of the slaves, my aint, she wuz a royal slave. She could dance all over de +place wid a tumbler of water on her head, widout spilling it. She sho could tote +herself. I always luved to see her come to church. She sho could tote +herself.</p> + +<p>My oldest sister Violet died in slavery time. She wuz ten years old when she +died. Her uncles were her pall bearers. Uncle Hyman and Uncle Handy carried her +to the grave yard. If I makes no mistake my daddy made her coffin. Dere wuz no +singin'. There were seven of the family dere, dat wuz all. Dey had no funeral. +Dere were no white folks dere.</p> + +<p>Dey baptized people in creeks and ponds.</p> + +<p>We rode corn stalks, bent down small pine trees and rode' em for horses. We +also played prison base. Colored and white played, yes sir, whites and colored. +We played at night but we had a certain time to go to bed. Dat wuz nine o'clock. +<span class="hw" title="New paragraph indicated">HW:</span></p> + +<p>De boss man looked atter us when we wuz sick. He got doctors. I had the +typhoid fever. All my hair came out. Dey called it de "mittent fever." Dr. Thomas +Banks doctored me. He been dead a long time. Oh! I don't know how long he been +dead. Near all my white folks were found dead. Mr. John died outside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>Walton died in bed. Marster Joe Walton died sitting under a tree side de path. +Miss Hancey died in bed.</p> + +<p>I 'member the day de war commenced. My marster called my father and my two +uncles Handy and Hyman, our marster called 'em. Dey had started back to the field +to work in the afternoon. He said, 'Cum here boys,' that wuz our young marster, +Ben Walton, says 'cum here boys. I got sumptin' to tell you.' Uncle Hyman said, +'I can't. I got to go to work.' He said 'Come here and set down, I got sumptin' +to tell you.'</p> + +<p>The niggers went to him and set down. He told them; 'There is a war commenced +between the North and the South. If the North whups you will be as free a man as +I is. If the South whups you will be a slave all your days.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Joe Walton said when he went to war dat dey could eat breakfast at home, +go and whup the North, and be back far dinner. He went away, and it wuz four long +years before he cum back to dinner. De table wuz shore set a long time for him. A +lot of de white folks said dey wouldn't be much war, dey could whup dem so easy. +Many of dem never did come back to dinner. I wuz afraid of the Yankees because +Missus had told us the Yankees were going to kill every nigger in the South. I +hung to my mammy when dey come through.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p>I thought Abraham Lincoln wuz the Medicine man, with grip in his han', cause +he said every borned man must be free.</p> + +<p>I did not think anything of Jeff Davis. I thank de will of God for setting us +free. He got into Abraham Lincoln and the Yankees. We are thankful to the Great +Marster dat got into Lincoln and the Yankees. Dey say Booker Washington wuz fine, +I don't know.</p> + +<p>The white folks did not allow us to have nuthing to do wid books. You better +not be found, tryin' to learn to read. Our marster wuz harder down on dat den +anything else. You better not be ketched wid a book. Day read the Bible and told +us to obey our marster for de Bible said obey your marster.</p> + +<p>The first band of music I ever herd play the Yankees wuz playin' it. They were +playin' a song. 'I am tired of seeing de homespun dresses the southern women +wear'.</p> + +<p>I thinks Mr. Roosevelt is a fine man. Jus' what we need.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320169]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Julia Crenshaw"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>130</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>EX-SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Julia Crenshaw</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><sub>[TR: HW circled "I"]</sub><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>As Julia Crenshaw recalled her mother's story.</h5> + +<p>My mammy wuz named Jane an' my pappy wuz named Richard. Dey belonged ter +Lawyer R. J. Lewis in Raleigh, dar whar Peace Institute am ter day. Mammy said +dat de white folkses wuz good ter dem an' gib 'em good food an' clothes. She wuz +de cook, an' fer thirty years atter de war she cooked at Peace.</p> + +<p>Before de Yankees come Mr. Lewis said, dat he dreamed dat de yard wuz full uv +dem an' he wuz deef. When dey comed he played deef so dat he won't have ter talk +ter 'em. Him he am dat proud.</p> + +<p>Mammy said dat she ain't cared 'bout been' free case she had a good home, but +atter all slavery wusn't de thing fer America.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320239]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Zeb Crowder"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1,414</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>ZEB CROWDER</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Zeb Crowder</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 30 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> + +<h4>ZEB CROWDER</h4> + +<h5>323 E. Cabarrus Street</h5> + +<p>I wont nuthin' in slavery time and I aint nuthin' now. All de work I am able +ter do now is a little work in de garden. Dey say I is too ole ter work, so +charity gives me a little ter go upon every week. For one weeks 'lowance o' +sumptin' ter eat dey gives me, hold on, I will show you, dat beats guessin'. Here +it is: ½ peck meal (corn meal), 2 lbs oat meal, 2 lb dry skim milk, and 1 lb +plate meat. Dis is what I gits fer one week 'lowance. I can't work much, but de +white folks gib me meals fur washin' de woodwork in dere houses, de white folks +in Hayes's Bottom. What little I do, I does fer him. He gives me meals for +workin'. De charity gives me about 80 cts worth o' rations a week.</p> + +<p>I wus seven years old when de Yankees come through. All de niggers 'cept me +an' de white folks ran to de woods. I didn't have sense enough ter run, so I +stayed on de porch where dey were passin' by. One of 'em pointed his gun at me. I +remember it as well as it was yisterday. Yes sir, I seed de Yankees and I +remember de clothes dey wore. Dey were blue and dere coats had capes on' em and +large brass buttons. De niggers and white folks were afraid of' em. De ole house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +where dey came by, an' me on de porch is still standin', yes sir, and dey are +livin' in it now. It belongs to Ralph Crowder, and he has a fellow by de name o' +Edward, a colored man, livin' dere now. De house is de udder side o' Swift Creek, +right at Rands Mill. I belonged ter ole man William Crowder durin' slavery, Tom +Crowder's daddy. Ralph is Tom's son. My missus wus named Miss Melvina an' if I +lives ter be a hundred years old I will never forget dem white folks. Yes sir, +dey shore wus good ter us. We had good food, good clothes and a good place ter +sleep.</p> + +<p>My mother died before de war, but Miss Melvina wus so good ter us we didn't +know so much difference. Mother wus de first person I remember seein' dead. When +she died Miss Melvina, marster's wife, called us chillun in and says, 'Chillun +your mother is dead, but anything in dis kitchen you wants ter eat go take it, +but don't slip nuthin'. If you slip it you will soon be stealin' things.' I had +four brothers and one sister, and none of us never got into trouble 'bout +stealin'. She taught us ter let other people's things alone.</p> + +<p>My father wus named Waddy Crowder. My mother wus named Neelie Crowder. Grandpa +was named Jacob Crowder and grandma was named Sylvia Crowder. I know dem jist as +good as if it wus yisterday.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + +<p>Never went ter school a day in my life. I can't read an' write. Dey would not +'low slaves ter have books, no sir reee, no, dat dey wouldn't. We went wid de +white folks to church; dey were good ter us, dat's de truth. Dere aint many +people dat knows 'bout dem good times. Dey had a lot o' big dinners and when de +white folks got through I would go up and eat all I wanted.</p> + +<p>I 'member choppin' cotton on Clabber branch when I wus a little boy before de +surrender. When de surrender come I didn't like it. Daddy an' de udders didn't +like it, 'cause after de surrender dey had to pay marster fer de meat an' things. +Before dat dey didn't have nuthin' to do but work. Dere were eight slaves on de +place in slavery time. Clabber branch run into Swift Creek. Lord have mercy, I +have caught many a fish on dat branch. I also piled brush in de winter time. +Birds went in de brush ter roost. Den we went bird blindin'. We had torches made +o' lightwood splinters, and brushes in our han's, we hit de piles o' brush after +we got 'round 'em. When de birds come out we would kill 'em. Dere were lots o' +birds den. We killed' em at night in the sage fields<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> where +broom grass was thick. Dem were de good times. No sich times now. We killed +robins, doves, patridges and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> other kinds o' birds. Dey aint no such gangs o' +birds now. We briled 'em over coals o' fire and fried 'em in fryin' pans, and +sometimes we had a bird stew, wid all de birds we wanted. De stew wus de bes' o' +all. Dere aint no sich stews now. We put flour in de stew. It was made into +pastry first, and we called it slick. When we cooked chicken wid it we called it +chicken slick.</p> + +<p>Dere were no overseers on our plantation. Marster wouldn't let you have any +money on Sunday. He would not trade on Sunday. He would not handle money matters +on Monday, but 'ceptin' dese two days if you went to him he would keep you. He +was who a good ole man. Dat's de truf.</p> + +<p>The Ku Klux would certainly work on you. If dey caught you out of your place +dey would git wid you. I don't remember anything 'bout de Freedman's Bureau but +de Ku Klux Klan was something all niggers wus scared of. Yes sir, dey would get +wid you. Dats right. Ha! Ha! Dat's right.</p> + +<p>I never seen a slave whupped, no sir, I never see a slave sold. I saw de +speculators do'. I saw de patterollers, but dey didn't never whup my daddy. Dey +run him one time, but dey couldn't cotch him. Marster Crowder allus give daddy a +pass when he asked fer it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> + +<p>I believe ole marster an' ole missus went right on ter Heaven, Yes, I do +believe dat. Dat's de truf. Yes, my Lawd, I would like to see' em right now. Dere +is only one o' de old crowd livin', an' dat is Miss Cora. She stays right here in +Raleigh.</p> + +<p>We used to have candy pullin's, an' I et more ash cakes den anybody. We cooked +ash cakes out o' meal. We had dances in de winter time, and other plays. I played +marbles an' runnin' an' jumpin' when I wus a chile. Dey give us sasafrac tea +sweetened to eat wid bread. It shore wus mighty good. My father never married +enny more. He settled right down after de war and farmed fer his old marster and +all we chillun stayed. We didn't want ter leave, an' I would be wid 'em right now +if dey wus livin'.</p> + +<p>I got married when I wus 21 years old, and moved ter myself in a little house +on de plantation. De house is standin' dere now, de house where I lived den. I +seed it de udder day when I went out dere to clean off my wife's grave. I married +Lula Hatcher. She died 'bout ten years ago. I married her in Georgia. I stayed +dere a long time when missus' brother, Wiley Clemmons, went ter Georgia ter run +turpentine an' tuck me wid him. I stayed dere till he died; an' Mr. Tom Crowder +went after him an' brought him back home an' buried him at de ole home place. He +is buried right dere at de Crowder place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>I have worked wid some o' de Crowders mos' all my life and I miss dem people, +when one of 'em dies. Dey allus give my daddy outside patches, and he made good +on it. He cleaned up seven acres, and do you know how he fenced it? Wid nuthin' +but bresh. An' hogs an' cows didn't go in dere neither. We had lots o' game ter +eat. Marster 'lowed my daddy ter hunt wid a gun, and he killed a lot o' rabbits, +squirrels, an' game. We trapped birds an' caught rabbits in boxes. Daddy caught +possums an' coons wid dogs. One o' my brothers is livin' at Garner, N.C. I am +four years older den he is. From what little judgment I got I thought a right +smart o' Abraham Lincoln, but I tells you de truf Mr. Roosevelt has done a lot o' +good. Dats de truf. I likes him.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span + class="label">[5]</span></a> The Negroes call the tall grass sage.</p> +</div> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320243]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Adeline Crump"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>585</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>ADELINE CRUMP</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Adeline Crump</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> + +<h4>ADELINE CRUMP</h4> + +<h5>526 Cannon Street</h5> + +<p>My name is Adeline Crump, and I am 73 years old. My husband's name wus James +Crump. My mother's wus Marie Cotton and my father's name wus Cotton. My mother +belonged to the Faucetts; Rich Faucett wus her marster. Father belonged to the +Cottons; Wright Cotton wus his marster. My maiden name wus Cotton. Mother and +father said they were treated all right and that they loved their white folks. +They gave them patches, clothed them tolerably well, and seed that they got +plenty to eat. The hours of work wus long. Nearbout everybody worked long hours +then, but they said they wus not mistreated 'bout nothing. When they got sick +marster got a doctor, if they wus bad off sick.</p> + +<p>They wus allowed holidays Christmas and at lay-by time, an' they wus 'lowed to +hunt possums an' coons at night an' ketch rabbits in gums. They also caught birds +in traps made of splinters split from pine wood.</p> + +<p>Mother and father had no learnin'. They would not allow them to learn to read +and write. Marster wus keerful 'bout that. I cannot read an' write. My mother and +father told me many stories 'bout the patterollers and Ku Klux. A nigger better +have a pass when he went visitin' or if they caught him they tore up his back. +The Ku Klux<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> made the niggers think they could drink a well full of water. +They carried rubber things under their clothes and a rubber pipe leadin' to a +bucket o' water. The water bag helt the water they did not drink it. Guess you +have heard people tell 'bout they drinking so much water.</p> + +<p>Marster didn't have no overseers to look after his slaves. He done that +hisself with the help o' some o' his men slaves. Sometimes he made 'em foreman +and my mother and father said they all got along mighty fine. The colored folks +went to the white folk's church and had prayer meeting in their homes.</p> + +<p>Mother lived in the edge o' marster's yard. When the surrender come after the +war they stayed on the plantation right on and lived on marster's land. They +built log houses after de war cause marster let all his slaves stay right on his +plantation. My mother had twenty-one chillun. She had twins five times. I was a +twin and Emaline wus my sister. She died 'bout thirty years ago. She left 11 +chillun when she died. I never had but four chillun. All my people are dead, I is +de only one left.</p> + +<p>Marster's plantation was 'bout six miles from Merry Oaks in Chatham County. We +moved to Merry Oaks when I wus fourteen years old. I married at seventeen. I have +lived in North Carolina all my life. We moved to Raleigh from Merry Oaks long +time ago. My husband died here seventeen years ago. I worked after my husband +died, washin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> and ironin' for white folks till I am not able to work no more. +Hain't worked any in fo' years. Charity don't help me none. My chillun gives me +what I gits.</p> + +<p>Slavery wus a bad thing, cause from what mother and father tole me all slaves +didn't fare alike. Some fared good an' some bad. I don't know enough 'bout +Abraham Lincoln an' Mr. Roosevelt to talk about 'em. No, I don't know just what +to say. I sho' hopes you will quit axin' me so many things cause I forgot a lot +mother and father tole me.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320232]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Bill Crump"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>844</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>BILL CRUMP</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Bill Crump</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 195px;"> +<img src="images/b_crump.jpg" width="195" height="300" alt="b_crump" title="Bill Crump" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +<span class="hw">HW: "photo"</span></p> + +<h4>BILL CRUMP</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story<br /> +An interview with Bill Crump, 82 of State prison, Raleigh North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I reckon dat I wus borned in Davidson County on de plantation of Mr. Whitman +Smith, my mammy's marster.</p> + +<p>My daddy wus named Tom an' he 'longed ter Mr. Ben Murry fust an' later ter Mr. +Jimmy Crump. Daddy wus named atter his young marster. Dey lived in Randolph, de +county next ter Davidson whar me mammy an' de rest of de chilluns, Alt, George, +Harriet, Sarah, Mary an' de baby libed.</p> + +<p>Both of de marsters wus good ter us, an' dar wus plenty ter eat an' w'ar, an' +right many jubilees. We ain't none of de dozen er so of us eber got a whuppin', +case we ain't desarved no whuppin'; why, dar wusn't eben a cowhide whup anywhar +on de place. We wucked in de fie'ls from sunup ter sundown mos' o' de time, but +we had a couple of hours at dinner time ter swim or lay on de banks uv de little +crick an' sleep. Ober 'bout sundown marster let us go swim ag'in iff'en we wanted +ter do it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>De marster let us have some chickens, a shoat an' a gyarden, an' 'tater patch, +an' we had time off ter wuck 'em. In season we preserved our own fruits fer de +winter an' so we larned not ter be so heaby on de marster's han's.</p> + +<p>My daddy wus a fiddler, an' he sometimes played fer de dances at de Cross +Roads, a little village near de marster's place. All what ain't been mean could +go, but de mean ones can't, an' de rest o' us has ter habe a pass ter keep de +patterollers from gittin us.</p> + +<p>Yes mam, we had our fun at de dances, co'n chuckin's, candy pullin's, an' de +gatherin's an' we sarbed de marster better by habin' our fun.</p> + +<p>I'se seed a bunch o' slaves sold a heap of times an' I neber seed no chains on +nobody. Dey jist stood dem on de table front of de post office at Cross Roads an' +sol' 'em ter de one what bids de highes'.</p> + +<p>We hyard a whisper 'bout some slaves bein' beat ter death, but I ain't neber +seed a slave git a lick of no kin', course atter de war I seed de Ku Klux runnin' +mean niggers.</p> + +<p>Dar wus no marryin' on de plantation, iffen a nigger wants a 'oman he has got +ter buy her or git her marster's permit, den dey am married.</p> + +<p>When one o' de slaves wus sick he had a doctor fast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> as lightnin', an' when de died +he wus set up wid one night. De marster would gibe de mourners a drink o' wine +mebbe, an' dey'd mo'n, an' shout, an' sing all de night long, while de cop'se +laid out on de coolin' board, which 'minds me of a tale.</p> + +<p>Onct we wus settin' up wid a nigger, 'fore de war an' hit bein' a hot night de +wine wus drunk an' de mo'ners wus settin' front o' de do' eatin' watermillons +while de daid man laid on de coolin' board. Suddenly one of de niggers looks back +in at de do', an' de daid man am settin' up on de coolin' board lookin right at +him. De man what sees hit hollers, an' all de rest what has been wishin 'dat de +daid man can enjoy de wine an' de watermillons am sorry dat he has comed +back.</p> + +<p>Dey doan take time ter say hit do', case dey am gone ter de big house. De +marster am brave so he comes ter see, an' he says dat hit am only restrictions o' +de muscles.</p> + +<p>De nex' mornin', as am de way, dey puts de man in a pine box made by 'nother +slave an' dey totes him from de cabin ter de marster's buryin' groun' at de +cedars; an' de slaves bury's him while de marster an' his fambly looks on.</p> + +<p>I doan know much 'bout de Yankees case de warn't none 'cept de skirtin' +parties comed our way.</p> + +<p>Atter de war we stays on fer four or five years<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> mebbe, an' I goes ter school +two weeks. De teacher wus Mr. Edmund Knights from de No'th.</p> + +<p>I'se sarbed four years an' ten months of a eight ter twelve stretch fer +killin' a man. Dis man an' a whole gang o' us wus at his house gamblin'. I had +done quit drinkin' er mont' er so 'fore dat, but dey 'sists on hit, but I 'fuses. +Atter 'while he pours some on me an' I cusses him, den he cusses me, an' he says +dat he am gwine ter kill me, an' he follers me down de road. I turns roun' an' +shoots him.</p> + +<p>Dat am all of my story 'cept dat I has seen a powerful heap of ghostes an' I +knows dat dey comes in white an' black, an' dat dey am in de shape er dogs, mens, +an' eber'thing dat you can have a mind to.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320148]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Charlie Crump"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>652</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>CHARLIE CRUMP</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Charlie Crump</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"— 11 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 225px;"> +<img src="images/c_crump.jpg" width="225" height="300" alt="c_crump" title="Charlie Crump and Granddaughter" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> + +<h4>CHARLIE CRUMP</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story<br /> +An interview with Charlie Crump 82 of Cary (near)</h5> + +<p>I wuz borned at Evan's Ferry in Lee or Chatham County, an' I belonged ter Mr. +Davis Abernathy an' his wife Mis' Vick. My pappy wuz named Ridge, an' my mammy +wuz named Marthy. My brothers wuz Stokes an' Tucker, an' my sisters wuz Lula an' +Liddy Ann. Dar wuz nine o' us in all, but some o' dem wuz sold, an' some o' dem +wuz dead.</p> + +<p>De Abernathy's wuzn't good ter us, we got very little ter eat, nothin' ter +wear an' a whole lot o' whuppin's. Dey ain't had no slaves 'cept seben or eight, +in fact, dey wuz pore white trash tryin' ter git rich; so dey make us wuck.</p> + +<p>Dey wucks us from daylight till dark, an' sometimes we jist gits one meal a +day. De marster says dat empty niggers am good niggers an' dat full niggers has +got de debil in dem. An' we ain't 'lowed ter go nowhar at night, dat is if dey +knowed it. I'se seed de time dat niggers from all ober de neighborhood gang up +an' have fun anyhow, but if dey hyard de patterollers comin' gallopin' on a hoss +dey'd fly. Crap shootin' wuz de style den, but a heap of times dey can't find +nothin ter bet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>I toted water, case dat's all I wuz big enough ter do, an' lemmie tell yo' dat +when de war wuz ober I ain't had nary a sprig of hair on my haid, case de wooden +buckets what I toted on it wored it plumb off.</p> + +<p>When we got hongry an' could fin' a pig, a calf or a chicken, no matter who it +had belonged to, it den belonged ter us. We raised a heap o' cane an' we et brown +sugar. Hit 's funny dat de little bit dey gibed us wuz what dey now calls +wholesome food, an' hit shore make big husky niggers.</p> + +<p>My mammy had more grit dan any gal I now knows of has in her craw. She plowed +a hateful little donkey dat wuz about as hongry as she wuz, an' he wuz a cuss +if'en dar eber wuz one. Mammy wuz a little brown gal, den, tough as nails an' she +ain't axin' dat donkey no odds at all. She uster take him out at twelve an' start +fer de house an' dat donkey would hunch up his back an' swear dat she wuzn't +gwine ter ride him home. Mammy would swear dat she would, an' de war would be on. +He'd throw her, but she'd git back on an' atter she'd win de fight he'd go fer de +house as fast as a scaulded dog.</p> + +<p>When we hyard dat de Yankees wuz comin' we wuz skeerd, case Marse Abernathy +told us dat dey'd skin us alive. I'members hit wuz de last o' April or de fust o' +May when dey comed, an' I had started fer de cane fil' wid a bucket o' water on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> my +haid, but when I sees dem Yankees comin' I draps de bucket an' runs.</p> + +<p>De folks thar 'bouts burnt de bridge crost de ribber, but de Yankees carried a +rope bridge wid 'em, so dey crossed anyhow.</p> + +<p>Dem Yankees tuck eber thing dat dey saw eben to our kush, what we had cooked +fer our supper. Kush wuz cornmeal, onions, red pepper, salt an' grease, dat is if +we had any grease. Dey killed all de cows, pigs, chickens an' stold all de hosses +an' mules.</p> + +<p>We wuz glad ter be free, an' lemmie tell yo', we shore cussed ole marster out +'fore we left dar; den we comed ter Raleigh. I'se always been a farmer an' I'se +made right good. I lak de white folkses an' dey laks me but I'll tell yo' Miss, +I'd ruther be a nigger any day dan to be lak my ole white folks wuz.</p> + +<p><small>M. A. H.<br /> +L. E.</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320050]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Mattie Curtis"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>10,018</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>BEFORE AND AFTER THE WAR</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mattie Curtis</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>George L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b><span class="hw">HW: 8/31/37</span></b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> + +<h4>BEFORE AND AFTER THE WAR</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Mattie Curtis, 98 years old, of Raleigh, North Carolina, +Route # 4.</h5> + +<p>I wus borned on de plantation of Mr. John Hayes in Orange County ninety-eight +years ago. Seberal of de chilluns had been sold 'fore de speculator come an' +buyed mammy, pappy an' we three chilluns. De speculator wus named Bebus an' he +lived in Henderson, but he meant to sell us in de tobacco country.</p> + +<p>We come through Raleigh an' de fust thing dat I 'members good wus goin' +through de paper mill on Crabtree. We traveled on ter Granville County on de +Granville Tobacco path till a preacher named Whitfield buyed us. He lived near de +Granville an' Franklin County line, on de Granville side.</p> + +<p>Preacher Whitfield, bein' a preacher, wus supposed to be good, but he ain't +half fed ner clothed his slaves an' he whupped 'em bad. I'se seen him whup my +mammy wid all de clothes offen her back. He'd buck her down on a barrel an' beat +de blood outen her. Dar wus some difference in his beatin' from de neighbors. De +folks round dar 'ud whup in de back yard, but Marse Whitfield 'ud have de barrel +carried in his parlor fer de beatin'.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p> + +<p>We ain't had no sociables, but we went to church on Sunday an' dey preached to +us dat we'd go ter hell alive iffen we sassed our white folks.</p> + +<p>Speakin' 'bout clothes, I went as naked as Yo' han' till I wus fourteen years +old. I wus naked like dat when my nature come to me. Marse Whitfield ain't +carin', but atter dat mammy tol' him dat I had ter have clothes.</p> + +<p>Marse Whitfield ain't never pay fer us so finally we wus sold to Mis' Fanny +Long in Franklin County. Dat 'oman wus a debil iffen dar eber wus one. When I wus +little I had picked up de fruit, fanned flies offen de table wid a peafowl fan +an' nussed de little slave chilluns. De las' two or three years I had worked in +de fiel' but at Mis' Long's I worked in de backer factory.</p> + +<p>Yes mam, she had a backer factory whar backer wus stemmed, rolled an' packed +in cases fer sellin'. Dey said dat she had got rich on sellin' chawin' +terbacker.</p> + +<p>We wus at Mis' Long's when war wus declared, 'fore dat she had been purty +good, but she am a debil now. Her son am called ter de war an' he won't go. Dey +comes an' arrests him, den his mammy tries ter pay him out, but dat ain't no +good.</p> + +<p>De officers sez dat he am yaller an' dat day am gwine ter shoot his head off +an' use hit fer a soap gourd. De Yankees did shoot him down here at Bentonville +an' Mis' Long went atter de body. De Confederates has got de body but dey won't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +let her have it fer love ner money. Dey laughs an' tells her how yaller he am an' +dey buries him in a ditch like a dog.</p> + +<p>Mis' Long has been bad enough fore den but atter her son is dead she sez dat +she am gwine ter fight till she draps dead. De nex' day she sticks de shot gun in +mammy's back an' sez dat she am gwine ter shoot her dead. Mammy smiles an' tells +her dat she am ready ter go. Mis' Long turns on me an' tells me ter go ter de +peach tree an' cut her ten limbs 'bout a yard long, dis I does an' atter she ties +dem in a bundle she wears dem out on me at a hundret licks. Lemmie tell yo', dar +wus pieces of de peach tree switches stickin' all in my bloody back when she got +through.</p> + +<p>Atter dat Mis' Long ain't done nothin' but whup us an' fight till she shore +nuff wore out.</p> + +<p>De Yankee captain come ter our place an tol' us dat de lan' was goin' ter be +cut up an' divided among de slaves, dey would also have a mule an' a house +apiece.</p> + +<p>I doan know how come hit but jist 'fore de end of de war we come ter Moses +Mordicia's place, right up de hill from here. He wus mean too, he'd get drunk an' +whup niggers all day off' an' on. He'd keep dem tied down dat long too, sometimes +from sunrise till dark.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mordicia had his yaller gals in one quarter ter dereselves an' dese gals +belongs ter de Mordicia men, dere friends an' de overseers. When a baby wus born +in dat quarter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> dey'd sen' hit over ter de black quarter at birth. Dey do say dat +some of dese gal babies got grown an' atter goin' back ter de yaller quarter had +more chilluns fer her own daddy or brother. De Thompson's sprung from dat set an' +dey say dat a heap of dem is halfwits fer de reason dat I has jist tol' yo'. Dem +yaller wimen wus highfalutin' too, dey <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: thought">though </ins>dey wus better dan de black ones.</p> + +<p>Has yo' ever wondered why de yaller wimen dese days am meaner dan black ones +'bout de men? Well dat's de reason fer hit, dere mammies raised dem to think +'bout de white men.</p> + +<p>When de Yankees come dey come an' freed us. De woods wus full of Rebs what had +deserted, but de Yankees killed some of dem.</p> + +<p>Some sort of corporation cut de land up, but de slaves ain't got none of it +dat I ever heard about.</p> + +<p>I got married before de war to Joshua Curtis. I loved him too, which is more +dam most folks can truthfully say. I always had craved a home an' a plenty to +eat, but freedom ain't give us notin' but pickled hoss meat an' dirty crackers, +an' not half enough of dat.</p> + +<p>Josh ain't really care 'bout no home but through dis land corporation I buyed +dese fifteen acres on time. I cut down de big trees dat wus all over dese fields +an' I milled out de wood an' sold hit, den I plowed up de fields an' planted dem. +Josh did help to build de house an' he worked out some.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>All of dis time I had nineteen chilluns an' Josh died, but I kep' on an' de +fifteen what is dead lived to be near 'bout grown, ever one of dem.</p> + +<p>Right atter de war northern preachers come around wid a little book a-marrying +slaves an' I seed one of dem marry my pappy an' mammy. Atter dis dey tried to +find dere fourteen oldest chilluns what wus sold away, but dey never did find but +three of dem.</p> + +<p>But you wants ter find out how I got along. I'll never fergit my first bale of +cotton an' how I got hit sold. I wus some proud of dat bale of cotton, an' atter +I had hit ginned I set out wid hit on my steercart fer Raleigh. De white folks +hated de nigger den, 'specially de nigger what wus makin' somethin' so I dasen't +ax nobody whar de market wus.</p> + +<p>I thought dat I could find de place by myself, but I rid all day an' had to +take my cotton home wid me dat night 'case I can't find no place to sell hit at. +But dat night I think hit over an' de nex' day I goes' back an' axes a policeman +'bout de market. Lo an' behold chile, I foun' hit on Blount Street, an' I had +pass by hit seberal times de day before.</p> + +<p>I done a heap of work at night too, all of my sewin' an' such an' de piece of +lan' near de house over dar ain't never got no work 'cept at night. I finally +paid fer de land. Some of my chilluns wus borned in de field too. When I wus to +de house we had a granny an' I blowed in a bottle to make de labor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> quick an' +easy.</p> + +<p>Dis young generation ain't worth shucks. Fifteen years ago I hired a big buck +nigger to help me shrub an' 'fore leben o'clock he passed out on me. You know +'bout leben o'clock in July hit gits in a bloom. De young generation wid dere +schools an dere divorcing ain't gwine ter git nothin' out of life. Hit wus better +when folks jist lived tergether. Dere loafin' gits dem inter trouble an' dere +novels makes dem bad husban's an' wives too.</p> + +<p><small>EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320227]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Charles Lee Dalton"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>TR Note:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No Header Page</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>[TR: 1,165]</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>[TR: Charles Lee Dalton]</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<h4>By Miss Nancy Woodburn Watkins<br /> +Rockingham County<br /> +Madison, North Carolina</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Biography—Charles Lee Dalton, 93.</h5> + +<p>In July, 1934, the census taker went to the home of Unka Challilee Dalton and +found that soft talking old darky on the porch of his several roomed house, a few +hundred feet south of the dirt road locally called the Ayersville road because it +branches from the hard surfaced highway to Mayodan at Anderson Scales' store, a +short distance from Unka Challilie's. Black got its meaning from his face, even +his lips were black, but his hair was whitening. His lean body was reclining +while the white cased pillows of his night bed sunned on a chair. His +granddaughter kept house for him the census taker learned. Unka Challilie said: +"I'se got so I ain't no count fuh nuthin. I wuz uh takin' me a nap uh sleepin' (' +AM). Dem merry-go-wheels keep up sich a racket all nite, sech a racket all nite, +ah cyan't sleep." This disturbance was "The Red Wolfe Medicine Troop of Players +and Wheels" near Anderson Scales' store in the forks of the Mayodan and the +Ayresville roads.</p> + +<p>In 1937 in the home of his son, Unka Challilie ninety-three, told the cause of +his no "countness." "I wuz clean-up man in de mill in Mayodan ontill three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> years ago, I +got too trimbly to git amongst de machinery. Daze frade I'd fall and git +cut."</p> + +<p>I cum tuh Madison forty-five yeah ago, and I bought one acre, and built me a +house on it, an' razed my leben chillun dyah. My wife was Ellen Irving of +Reidsville. We had a cow, pigs, chickens, and gyardum of vegetables to hope out +what I got paid at de mill.</p> + +<p>Nome I nevah learned to read an write. Ounct I thought mebbe I'd git sum +lunnin but aftah I got married, I didn't think I would.</p> + +<p>My old Marse wuz Marse Lee Dalton and I stayed on his plantation till +forty-five years ago when I cum tuh Madison. His place wuz back up dyah close +tuh. Mt. Herman Church. Nome we slaves ain't learn no letters, but sumtimes young +mistis' 'd read de Bible tuh us. Day wuz pretty good tuh us, but sumtimes I'd +ketch uh whippin'. I wuz a hoe boy and plow man. My mothers' name wuz Silvia +Dalton and my daddy's name wuz Peter Dalton. Day belonged to Marse Lee and his +wife wuz Miss Matilda Steeples (Staples). Marse Lee lived on Beaver Island Creek +at the John Hampton Price place. Mr. Price bought it. He married Miss Mollie +Dalton, Marse Lee's daughter. Dyah's uh ole graveyard dyah whah lots uh Daltons +is buried but no culled fokes. Day is buried to the side uh Stoneville<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> wiff no +white fokes a-tall berried dyah. De ole Daltons wuz berried on de Ole Jimmy +Scales plantation. Day bought hit, an little John Price what runs uh tuhbaccah +warehouse in Madison owns hit now. (1937) His tenant is Marse Walt Hill, an hits +five miles frum Madison. I knose whah de old Deatherage graveyard is, too, up +close to Stoneville whah sum Daltons is berried. Ole Marse Lee's mother was a +Deatherage.</p> + +<p>Ole Marse was kind to us, an' I stayed on his plantation an' farmed till I kum +to Madison. Dee Yankees, day didn't giv us nuthin so we had kinduh to live off'n +old Marse.</p> + +<p>Fuh ayteen yuz I kin member ah de Mefodis Church byah in Madison. I wuzn't +converted unduh de Holiness preachment uh James Foust but duh de revival of +Reverend William Scales. William didn't bare much lunnin. His wife wuz Mittie +Scales an huh mother wuz Chlocy Scales, sister to Tommie Scales, de shoemaker, +what died lase summuh (July, 1936). William jes wanted so much tuh preach, and +Mittie hoped him. I'se been uh class leader, an uh stewart, an uh trustee in de +church. It's St. Stephen's and de new brick church was built in 1925, an Mistuh +John Wilson's son wrote uh peace uh bout hit in de papuh. De fuss chuch wuz down +dyah cross de street fum Jim Foust's "tabernacle."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> But de fuss cullud chuch in +Madison wuz a Union chuch over dyah by de Presbyterian graveyard whah now is de +Gyartuh factry. An' Jane Richardson wuz de leader.</p> + +<p>Yess'm I got so no count, I had to cum live with mah son, Frank Dalton. Frank +married Mattie Cardwell. You remembuh Mary Mann? She married Anderson Cardwell. +Day's bofe dade long time. Days berried jess up hyuh at Mayodan whah Mr. Bollin's +house is on and dem new bungyloes is on top um, too. Uh whole lots uh cullud +people berried in dah with de slaves of Ole Miss Nancy (Watkins) Webster on till +de Mayo Mills got started and day built Mayhodan at de Mayo Falls. An' dat's whah +my daughter-in-law's folks is berried.</p> + +<p>My leben chillun—Frank, one died in West Virginia; Cora married Henry +Cardwell; Hattie married Roy Current and bafe ob dem in Winston; Della married +Arthur Adkins, an' Joe, an' George an' Perry an' Nathaniel Dalton, an'.</p> + +<p>Yes'm mah daughter-in-law has de writings about de brick chuch, dem whut +started hit, an' she'll put it out whah she can git hit fuh you easy, when you +coun back fuh hit.</p> + +<p>Nome, up at Marse Lee Dalton's fob de s'renduh us slaves didn't nevuh go tuh +chuch. But young Miss'ud read de Bible to us sometimes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>Here +in the five room, white painted cottage of his son, Frank, Unka Challilie is +kindly cared for by his daughter-in-law, Mattie. A front porch faces the Mayodan +hard road a few doors from the "coppubration line." A well made arch accents the +entrance to the front walk. A climbing rose flourishes on the arch. Well kept +grass with flowers on the edges show Mattie's love. At the right side is the +vegetable garden, invaded by several big domineckuh chickens. A kudzu vine keeps +out the hot west sun. Unka Challilie sits on the front porch and nods to his +friends <ins class="edcorr" title="HW addition: , or">else</ins> back in the kitchen, he sits and +watches Mattie iron after he has eaten his breakfast. Several hens come on the +back porch and lay in boxes there. One is "uh settin" fuh fried chicken later! A +walnut tree, "uh white wawnut", waves its long dangly green blooms as the leaves +are half grown in the early May. Well dressed, clean, polite, comforted with his +religion, but very "trimbly" even on his stout walking stick, Unka Challilie +often dozes away his "no countness" with "uh napuh sleepin" while the mad rush of +traffic and tourist wheels stir the rose climbing over the entrance arch. An +ex-slave who started wiff nuffin de Yankees gave him, who lived on his old +Marse's place ontil he wuz forty-eight, who cleaned the Mayo Mills ontill he wuz +too trimbly to get amongst de machinery, who raised eleven children on an acre of +red Rockingham county<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> hillside, faces the next move with plenty to eat, wear, plenty +time to take a nap uh sleepin.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320281]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="John Daniels"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>386</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>JOHN DANIELS</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>John Daniels</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> + +<h4>JOHN DANIELS</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story</h5> +<span class="hw">HW: (?)</span> + +<p>I'se named fer my pappy's ole massa down in Spartanburg, South Carolina, +course I doan know nothin' 'bout no war, case I warn't borned. I does 'member +seein' de ole 'big house' do', maybe you want me ter tell you how hit looked?</p> + +<p>It wuz a big white two-story house at de end uv a magnolia lane an' a-settin' +in a big level fiel'. Back o' de big house wuz de ole slave cabins whar my folks +uster live.</p> + +<p>Dey said dat de massa wuz good ter 'em, but dat sometimes in de mo'nin' dey +jist has lasses an' co'nbread fer breakfas'.</p> + +<p>I started ter tell you 'bout de Joe Moe do'.</p> + +<p>You mebbe doan know hit, but de prisoners hyar doan git de blues so bad if de +company comes on visitin' days, an' de mail comes reg'lar. We's always gittin' up +somepin' ter have a little fun, so somebody gits up de Joe Moe.</p> + +<p>Yo' sees dat when a new nigger comes in he am skeerd an' has got de blues. +Somebody goes ter cheer him up an' dey axes him hadn't he ruther be hyar dan daid.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +Yo' see he am moughty blue den, so mebbe he says dat he'd ruther be daid; den dis +feller what am tryin' ter cheer him tells him dat all right he sho' will die dat +<ins class="edcorr" title="HW addition: 'cause"> he's</ins> got de Joe Moe put on him.</p> + +<p>Seberal days atter dis de new nigger fin's a little rag full of somepin twix +de bed an' mattress an' he axes what hit am. Somebody tells him dat hit am de Joe +Moe, an' dey tells him dat de only way he can git de spell off am ter git de bag +off on somebody else. Ever'body but him knows' bout hit so de Joe Moe keeps +comin' back till a new one comes in an' he l'arns de joke.</p> + +<p>Talkin' 'bout ghostes I wants ter tell you dat de air am full of 'em. Dar's a +strip from de groun' 'bout four feet high which am light on de darkes' night, +case hit can't git dark down dar. Git down an' crawl an' yo'll see a million +laigs of eber' kin' an' if'en you lis'ens you'll hyar a little groanin' an' den +you has gone through a warm spot.</p> + +<p><small>B. N.</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320186]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Harriet Ann Daves"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>725</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>HARRIET ANN DAVES</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Harriet Ann Daves</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 198px;"> +<img src="images/h_daves.jpg" width="198" height="300" alt="h_daves" title="Harriet Daves" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> + +<h4>HARRIET ANN DAVES</h4> + +<h5>601 E. Cabarrus Street</h5> + +<p>My full name is Harriet Ann Daves, I like to be called Harriet Ann. If my +mother called me when she was living, I didn't want to answer her unless she +called me Harriet Ann. I was born June 6, 1856. Milton Waddell, my mother's +marster was my father, and he never denied me to anybody.</p> + +<p>My mother was a slave but she was white. I do not know who my mother's father +was. My mother was Mary Collins. She said that her father was an Indian. My +mother's mother was Mary Jane Collins, and she was white—maybe part Indian. +My grandfather was old man William D. Waddell, a white man. I was born in +Virginia near Orange Courthouse. The Waddells moved to Lexington, Missouri, after +I was born. I guess some of the family would not like it if they knew I was +telling this. We had good food and a nice place to live. I was nothing but a +child, but I know, and remember that I was treated kindly. I remember the +surrender very well. When the surrender came my grandfather came to mother and +told her: 'Well, you are as free as I am.' That was William D. Waddell. He was +one of the big shots among the white folks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>My white grandmother wanted mother to give me to her entirely. She said she +had more right to me than my Indian grandmother that she had plenty to educate +and care for me. My mother would not give me to her, and she cried. My mother +gave me to my Indian grandmother. I later went back to my mother.</p> + +<p>While we were in Missouri some of my father's people, a white girl, sent for +me to come up to the great house. I had long curls and was considered pretty. The +girl remarked, 'Such a pretty child' and kissed me. She afterwards made a remark +to which my father who was there, my white father, took exception telling her I +was his child and that I was as good as she was. I remember this incident very +distinctly.</p> + +<p>My mother had two children by the same white man, my father. The other was a +girl. She died in California. My father never married. He loved my mother, and he +said if he could not marry Mary he did not want to marry. Father said he did not +want any other woman. My father was good to me. He would give me anything I asked +him for. Mother would make me ask him for things for her. She said it was no harm +for me to ask him for things for her which she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> could not get unless I asked +him for them. When the surrender came my mother told my father she was tired of +living that kind of a life, that if she could not be his legal wife she wouldn't +be anything to him, so she left and went to Levenworth, Kansas. She died there in +1935. I do not know where my father is, living or dead, or what became of +him.</p> + +<p>I can read and write well. They did not teach us to read and write in slavery +days. I went to a school opened by the Yankees after the surrender.</p> + +<p>I went with my mother to Levenworth, Kansas. She sent me to school in Flat, +Nebraska. I met my husband there. My first husband was Elisha Williams; I ran +away from school in Flat, and married him. He brought me to Raleigh. He was born +and raised in Wake County. We lived together about a year when he died July 1st, +1872. There was one child born to us which died in infancy.</p> + +<p>I married the second time Rufus H. Daves in 1875. He was practically a white +man. He wouldn't even pass for a mulatto. He used to belong to the Haywoods. He +died in 1931 in Raleigh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>I think Abraham Lincoln was a fine, conscientious man; my mother worshipped +him, but he turned us out without anything to eat or live on. I don't think Mr. +Roosevelt is either hot or cold—just a normal man.</p> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320257]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Jerry Davis"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>429</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>JERRY DAVIS</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Jerry Davis</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 26 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> + +<h4>JERRY DAVIS</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story and Folk Tale<br /> +An interview with Jerry Davis 74 of 228 E. South Street, Raleigh, North +Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I wus borned in Warren County ter Mataldia an' Jordan Davis. Dere wus +twenty-two o' us chilluns, an' natu'ally Marster Sam Davis laked my mammy an' +daddy. He owned two hundert an' sebenty slaves, an' three, four, or five scopes +o' lan'.</p> + +<p>Marster wus good ter us, he gibe us plenty ter eat, an' w'ar, an' he wus good +an' kind in his talkin'. I warn't big 'nuff ter do much 'sides min' de chickens, +an' sich lak.</p> + +<p>I doan 'member so much 'bout de Yankees comin' 'cept sein' dem, an' dat dey +gibe my pappy a new blue overcoat an' dat I slep' on it onct er twict. I knows +dat de Yankees wus good ter de niggers but dey warn't so good ter de ole Issues. +Dey did 'stroy most eber'thing do'.</p> + +<p>I can't 'member, but I'se hyard my mammy tell o' dances, co'n shuckin's, +wrestlin' matches, candy pullin's an' sich things dat wus had by de slaves dem +days.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>My pappy tol' me 'bout de cock fights in de big pits at Warrenton an' how dat +when de roosters got killed de owner often gibe de dead bird ter him. I'se also +hyard him tell 'bout de hoss races an' 'bout Marster Sam's fine hosses.</p> + +<p>I knows dat de marster an' missus wus good case my mammy an' daddy 'sisted on +stayin' right on atter de war, an' so dey died an' was buried dar on Marster +Sam's place.</p> + +<p>I wucked in de Dupont Powder plant durin' de World War but I wus discharged +case I had acid injury.</p> + +<p>Yessum, I'll tell you de only rale ole tale dat I knows an' dat am de story' +bout——Jack.</p> + +<h5>JACK</h5> + +<p>Onct dar wus a white man down in Beaufort County what owned a nigger named +Jack. Dis man owned a boat an' he was fer ever more goin' boat ridin', fer days +an' nights. He larned Jack how ter steer an' often he'd go ter sleep leavin' Jack +at de wheel, wid 'structions ter steer always by de seben stars.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + +<p>One night as Jack steered for his master to sleep, Jack suddenly fell asleep +too. When he awake it wuz jist at de crack of dawn so no stars wus dar.</p> + +<p>Jack went flyin' ter de marster hollerin', 'please sur marster, hang up some +mo' stars, I done run by dem seben'.</p> + +<h5>JACK AND THE DEVIL</h5> + +<p>Onct Jack an' de debil got inter a 'spute 'bout who can throw a rock de +ferderest. De debil sez dat he can throw a rock so fur dat hit won't come down in +three days.</p> + +<p>Iffen you can throw a rock furder dan dat, sez de debil, I'll give you yer +freedom.</p> + +<p>De debil chunks a rock an' hit goes up an' stays fer three days. When hit +comes down Jack picks hit up an' he 'lows, 'Good Lawd, move de stars an' de moon +case dar's a rock comin' ter heaben'.</p> + +<p>De debil sez, 'Iffen you can do dat den you can beat me case I can't throw a +rock in a mile o' heaben'.</p> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320240]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="W. S. Debnam"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1025</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>A Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>W. S. Debnam</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 30 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> + +<h4>W. SOLOMON DEBNAM.</h4> + +<h5>701 Smith Street.</h5> + +<p>Yes, I remember the Yankees coming to Raleigh. I don't know very much about +those times, I was so young, but I remember the Yankees all right in their blue +clothes; their horses, and so on. I'll be 78 years old the 8th of this comin' +September an' I've heard mother an' father talk about slavery time a whole lot. +We belonged to T. R. Debnam at Eagle Rock, Wake County. His wife was named +Priscilla Debnam. My father was named Daniel Debnam an' my mother was named Liza +Debnam. My master had several plantations an' a lot of slaves. I don't know how +many, but I know he had 'em. He fed us well; we had a good place to sleep. We had +wove clothes, enough to keep us warm. He treated me just like he had been my +father. I didn't know the difference. Marster an' missus never hit me a lick in +their lives. My mother was the house girl. Father tended business around the +house an' worked in the field sometimes. Our houses were in marster's yard. The +slave quarters were in the yard of the great house. I don't remember going to +church until after the surrender.</p> + +<p>I remember the corn shuckin's, but not the Christmas and the fourth of July +holidays. They had a lot of whiskey at corn shuckin's and good things to +eat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>I heard pappy talk of patterollers, but I do not know what they were. Pappy +said he had to have a pass to visit on, or they would whip him if they could +ketch him. Sometimes they could not ketch a nigger they were after. Yes, they +taught us to say pappy an' mammy in them days.</p> + +<p>I remember the coon and possum hunts an' the rabbits we caught in gums. I +remember killin' birds at night with thorn brush. When bird blindin' we hunt 'em +at night with lights from big splinters. We went to grass patches, briars, and +vines along the creeks an' low groun's where they roosted, an' blinded 'em an' +killed 'em when they come out. We cooked 'em on coals, and I remember making a +stew and having dumplings cooked with 'em. We'd flustrate the birds in their +roostin' place an' when they come out blinded by the light we hit 'em an' killed +'em with thorn brush we carried in our han's.</p> + +<p>Marster had a gran'son, the son of Alonza Hodge an' Arabella Hodge, 'bout my +age an' I stayed with him most of the time. When Alonza Hodge bought his son +anything he bought for me too. He treated us alike. He bought each of us a pony. +We could ride good, when we were small. He let us follow him. He let us go +huntin' squirrels with him. When he shot an' killed a squirrel he let us race to +see which could get him first, while he laughed at us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + +<p>I didn't sleep in the great house. I stayed with this white boy till bed time +then my mammy come an' got me an' carried me home. When marster wanted us boys to +go with him he would say, 'Let's go boys,' an' we would follow him. We were like +brothers. I ate with him at the table. What they et, I et. He made the house girl +wait on me just like he an' his son was waited on.</p> + +<p>My father stayed with marster till he died, when he was 63 an' I was 21; we +both stayed right there. My white playmate's name was Richard Hodge. I stayed +there till I was married. When I got 25 years old I married Ida Rawlson. Richard +Hodge became a medical doctor, but he died young, just before I was married.</p> + +<p>They taught me to read an' write. After the surrender I went to free school. +When I didn't know a word I went to old marster an' he told me.</p> + +<p>During my entire life no man can touch my morals, I was brought up by my white +folks not to lie, steal or do things immoral. I have lived a pure life. There is +nothing against me.</p> + +<p>I remember the Yankees, yes sir, an' somethings they done. Well, I remember +the big yeller gobler they couldn't ketch. He riz an' flew an' they shot him an' +killed him. They went down to marster's store an' busted the head outen a barrel +o' molasses an' after they busted the head out I got a tin bucket an' got it full +o' molasses an' started to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> house. Then they shoved me down in the +molasses. I set the bucket down an' hit a Yankee on the leg with a dogwood stick. +He tried to hit me. The Yankees ganged around him, an' made him leave me alone, +give me my bucket o' molasses, an' I carried it on to the house. They went down +to the lot, turned out all the horses an' tuck two o' the big mules, Kentucky +mules, an' carried 'em off. One of the mules would gnaw every line in two you +tied him with, an' the other could not be rode. So next morning after the Yankees +carried 'em off they both come back home with pieces o' lines on 'em. The mules +was named, one was named Bill, an' the other Charles. You could ride old Charles, +but you couldn't ride old Bill. He would throw you off as fast as you got on +'im.</p> + +<p>After I was married when I was 25 years old I lived there ten years, right +there; but old marster had died an' missus had died. I stayed with his son +Nathaniel; his wife was named Drusilla.</p> + +<p>I had five brothers, Richard, Daniel, Rogene, Lorenzo, Lumus and myself. There +wont places there for us all, an' then I left. When I left down there I moved to +Raleigh. The first man I worked fer here was George Marsh Company, then W. A. +Myatt Company an' no one else. I worked with the Myatt Company twenty-six years; +'till I got shot.</p> + +<p>It was about half past twelve o'clock. I was on my way home to dinner on the +20th of December, 1935. When I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> passing Patterson's Alley entering Lenoir +Street near the colored park in the 500 block something hit me. I looked around +an' heard a shot. The bullet hit me before I heard the report of the pistol. When +hit, I looked back an' heard it. Capt. Bruce Pool, o' the Raleigh Police force, +had shot at some thief that had broken into a A&P Store an' the bullet hit +me. It hit me in my left thigh above the knee. It went through my thigh, a 38 +caliber bullet, an' lodged under the skin on the other side. I did not fall but +stood on one foot while the blood ran from the wound. A car came by in about a +half hour an' they stopped an' carried me to St. Agnes Hospital. It was not a +police car. I stayed there a week. They removed the bullet, an' then I had to go +to the hospital every day for a month. I have not been able to work a day since. +I was working with W. A. Myatt Company when I got shot. My leg pains me now and +swells up. I cannot stand on it much. I am unable to do a day's work. Can't stand +up to do a day's work. The city paid me $200.00, an' paid my hospital bill.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln was all right. I think slavery was wrong because birds an' +things are free an' man ought to have the same privilege.</p> + +<p>Franklin Roosevelt is a wonderful man. Men would have starved if he hadn't +helped 'em.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320199]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="SARAH DEBRO"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Travis Jordan</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1384</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>SARAH DEBRO</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>EX-SLAVE 90 YEARS</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Durham, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUL 24 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> + +<h4>SARAH DEBRO</h4> + +<h5>EX-SLAVE 90 YEARS</h5> + +<p>I was bawn in Orange County way back some time in de fifties.</p> + +<p>Mis Polly White Cain an' Marse Docter Cain was my white folks. Marse Cain's +plantation joined Mistah Paul Cameron's land. Marse Cain owned so many niggers +dat he didn' know his own slaves when he met dem in de road. Sometimes he would +stop dem an' say: 'Whose niggers am you?' Dey'd say, 'We's Marse Cain's niggers.' +Den he would say, 'I'se Marse Cain,' and drive on.</p> + +<p>Marse Cain was good to his niggers. He didn' whip dem like some owners did, +but if dey done mean he sold dem. Dey knew dis so dey minded him. One day +gran'pappy sassed Mis' Polly White an' she told him dat if he didn' 'have hese'f +dat she would put him in her pocket. Gran'pappy wuz er big man an' I ax him how +Mis' Polly could do dat. He said she meant dat she would sell him den put de +money in her pocket. He never did sass Mis' Polly no more.</p> + +<p>I was kept at de big house to wait on Mis' Polly, to tote her basket of keys +an' such as dat. Whenever she seed a chile down in de quarters dat she wanted to +raise be hand, she took dem up to do big house an' trained dem. I wuz to be a +house maid. De day she took me my mammy cried kaze she knew I would never be +'lowed to live at de cabin wid her no more Mis' Polly was big an' fat an' she +made us niggers mind an' we had to keep clean. My dresses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> an' aprons was starched stiff. +I had a clean apron every day. We had white sheets on de beds an' we niggers had +plenty to eat too, even ham. When Mis' Polly went to ride she took me in de +carriage wid her. De driver set way up high an' me an' Mis' Polly set way down +low. Dey was two hosses with shiney harness. I toted Mis' Polly's bag an' +bundles, an' if she dropped her hank'chief I picked it up. I loved Mis' Polly an' +loved stayin' at de big house.</p> + +<p>I was 'bout wais' high when de sojers mustered. I went wid Mis' Polly down to +de musterin' fiel' whare dey was marchin'. I can see dey feets now when dey flung +dem up an' down, sayin', hep, hep. When dey was all ready to go an' fight, de +women folks fixed a big dinner. Aunt Charity an' Pete cooked two or three days +for Mis' Polly. De table was piled wid chicken, ham, shoat, barbecue, young lam', +an'all sorts of pies, cakes an' things, but nobody eat nothin much. Mis' Polly +an' de ladies got to cryin.' De vittles got cold. I was so sad dat I got over in +de corner an' cried too. De men folks all had on dey new sojer clothes, an' dey +didn' eat nothin neither. Young Marse Jim went up an' put his arm 'roun' Mis' +Polly, his mammy, but dat made her cry harder. Marse Jim was a cavalry. He rode a +big hoss, an' my Uncle Dave went wid him to de fiel' as his body guard. He had a +hoss too so if Marse Jim's hoss got shot dare would be another one for him to +ride. Mis' Polly had another son but he was too drunk to hold a gun. He stayed +drunk.</p> + +<p>De first cannon I heard skeered me near 'bout to death. We could hear dem +goin' boom, boom. I thought it was thunder, den<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> Mis Polly say, 'Lissen, Sarah, +hear dem cannons? Dey's killin' our mens.' Den she 'gun to cry.</p> + +<p>I run in de kitchen whare Aunt Charity was cookin an' tole her Mis' Polly was +cryin. She said: 'She ain't cryin' kaze de Yankees killin' de mens; she's doin' +all dat cryin' kaze she skeered we's goin' to be sot free.' Den I got mad an' +tole her Mis' Polly wuzn' like dat.</p> + +<p>I 'members when Wheelers Cavalry come through. Dey was 'Federates but dey was +mean as de Yankees. Dey stold everything dey could find an' killed a pile of +niggers. Dey come 'roun' checkin'. Dey ax de niggahs if dey wanted to be free. If +dey say yes, den dey shot dem down, but if dey say no, dey let dem alone. Dey +took three of my uncles out in de woods an' shot dey faces off.</p> + +<p>I 'members de first time de Yankees come. Dey come gallupin' down de road, +jumpin' over de palin's, tromplin' down de rose bushes an' messin' up de flower +beds. Dey stomped all over de house, in de kitchen, pantries, smoke house, an' +everywhare, but dey didn' find much, kaze near 'bout everything done been hid. I +was settin' on de steps when a big Yankee come up. He had on a cap an' his eyes +was mean.</p> + +<p>'Whare did dey hide do gol' an silver, Nigger?' he yelled at me.</p> + +<p>I was skeered an my hands was ashy, but I tole him I didn' nothin' 'bout +nothin; dat if anybody done hid things dey hid it while I was sleep.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Go ax dat ole white headed devil,' he said to me.</p> + +<p>I got mad den kaze he was tawkin' 'bout Mis' Polly, so I didn' say nothin'. I +jus' set. Den he pushed me off de step an' say if I didn' dance he gwine shoot my +toes off. Skeered as I was, I sho done some shufflin'. Den he give me five +dollers an' tole me to go buy jim cracks, but dat piece of paper won't no good. +'Twuzn nothin' but a shin plaster like all dat war money, you couldn' spend +it.</p> + +<p>Dat Yankee kept callin' Mis' Polly a white headed devil an' said she done +ramshacked 'til dey wuzn' nothin' left, but he made his mens tote off meat, +flour, pigs, an' chickens. After dat Mis' Polly got mighty stingy wid de vittles +an' de didn' have no more ham.</p> + +<p>When de war was over de Yankees was all 'roun' de place tellin' de niggers +what to do. Dey tole dem dey was free, dat dey didn' have to slave for de white +folks no more. My folks all left Marse Cain an' went to live in houses dat de +Yankees built. Dey wuz like poor white folks houses, little shacks made out of +sticks an' mud wid stick an' mud chimneys. Dey wuzn' like Marse Cain's cabins, +planked up an' warm, dey was full of cracks, an' dey wuzn' no lamps an' oil. All +de light come from de lightwood knots burnin' in de fireplace.</p> + +<p>One day my mammy come to de big house after me. I didn' want to go, I wanted +to stay wid Mis' Polly. I 'gun to cry an' Mammy caught hold of me. I grabbed Mis' +Polly an' held so tight dat I tore her skirt bindin' loose an' her skirt fell +down 'bout<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> her feets.</p> + +<p>'Let her stay wid me,' Mis' Polly said to Mammy.</p> + +<p>But Mammy shook her head. 'You took her away from me an' didn' pay no mind to +my cryin', so now I'se takin' her back home. We's free now, Mis' Polly, we ain't +gwine be slaves no more to nobody.' She dragged me away. I can see how Mis' Polly +looked now. She didn' say nothin' but she looked hard at Mammy an' her face was +white.</p> + +<p>Mammy took me to de stick an' mud house de Yankees done give her. It was smoky +an' dark kaze dey wuzn' no windows. We didn' have no sheets an' no towels, so +when I cried an' said I didn' want to live on no Yankee house, Mammy beat me an' +made me go to bed. I laid on de straw tick lookin' up through de cracks in de +roof. I could see de stars, an' de sky shinin' through de cracks looked like long +blue splinters stretched 'cross de rafters. I lay dare an' cried kaze I wanted to +go back to Mis' Polly.</p> + +<p>I was never hungry til we waz free an' de Yankees fed us. We didn' have nothin +to eat 'cept hard tack an' middlin' meat. I never saw such meat. It was thin an' +tough wid a thick skin. You could boil it allday an' all night an' it wouldn' +cook dome, I wouldn' eat it. I thought 'twuz mule meat; mules dat done been shot +on de battle field den dried. I still believe 'twuz mule meat.</p> + +<p>One day me an' my brother was lookin' for acorns in de woods. We foun' sumpin' +like a grave in de woods. I tole Dave dey wuz sumpin' buried in dat moun'. We got +de grubbin hoe an' dug. Dey wuz a box wid eleven hams in dat grave. Somebody done<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +hid it from de Yankees an' forgot whare dey buried it. We covered it back up kaze +if we took it home in de day time de Yankees an' niggers would take it away from +us. So when night come we slipped out an' toted dem hams to de house an' hid dem +in de loft.</p> + +<p>Dem was bad days. I'd rather been a slave den to been hired out like I was, +kaze I wuzn' no fiel' hand, I was a hand maid, trained to wait on de ladies. Den +too, I was hungry most of de time an' had to keep fightin' off dem Yankee mens. +Dem Yankees was mean folks.</p> + +<p>We's come a long way since dem times. I'se lived near 'bout ninety years an' +I'se seen an' heard much. My folks don't want me to talk 'bout slavery, day's +shame niggers ever was slaves. But, while for most colored folks freedom is de +bes, dey's still some niggers dat out to be slaves now. Dese niggers dat's done +clean forgot de Lawd; dose dat's always cuttin' an' fightin' an' gwine in white +folks houses at night, dey ought to be slaves. Dey ought to have an' Ole Marse +wid a whip to make dem come when he say come, an' go when he say go, 'til dey +learn to live right.</p> + +<p>I looks back now an' thinks. I ain't never forgot dem slavery days, an' I +ain't never forgot Mis' Polly an' my white starched aprons.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320147]</div><span class="hw" title="HW note:">26</span> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Charles W. Dickens"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>805</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>CHARLES W. DICKENS</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Charles W. Dickens</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 11 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 201px;"> +<img src="images/c_dickens.jpg" width="201" height="300" alt="c_dickens" title="Charles Dickens" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> + +<h4>CHARLES W. DICKENS</h4> + +<h5>1115 East Lenoir Street</h5> + +<p>My name is Charles W. Dickens. I lives at 1115 East Lenoir Street, Raleigh, +North Carolina, Wake County. I wuz born August 16, 1861, de year de war started. +My mother wuz named Ferebee Dickens. My father wuz named John Dickens. I had nine +sisters and brothers. My brothers were named Allen, Douglas, <ins class="mycorr" title="HW: question mark above -my name-">my name</ins>, +Jake, Johnnie and Jonas. The girls Katie, Matilda Francis, and Emily Dickens.</p> + +<p>My grandmother wuz named Charity Dickens. My grandfather wuz Dudley T. +Dickens. I do not know where dey came from. No, I don't think I do. My mother +belonged to Washington Scarborough, and so did we chilluns. My father he belonged +to Obediah Dickens and missus wuz named Silvia Dickens. Dey lowed mother to go by +the name of my father after dey wuz married.</p> + +<p>We lived in log houses and we had bunks in 'em. Master died, but I 'member +missus wuz mighty good to us. We had tolerable fair food, and as fur as I know +she wuz good to us in every way. We had good clothing made in a loom, that is de +cloth wuz made in de loom. My father lived in Franklin County. My mother lived in +Wake County. I 'member hearin' father talk about walkin' so fur to see us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> There wuz +about one dozen slaves on de plantation. Dere were no hired overseers. Missus +done her own bossing. I have heard my father speak about de patterollers, but I +never seed none. I heard him say he could not leave the plantation without a +strip o' something.</p> + +<p>No, sir, the white folks did not teach us to read and write. My mother and +father, no sir, they didn't have any books of any kind. We went to white folk's +church. My father split slats and made baskets to sell. He said his master let +him have all de money he made sellin' de things he made. He learned a trade. He +wuz a carpenter. One of the young masters got after father, so he told me, and he +went under de house to keep him from whuppin' him. When missus come home she +wouldn't let young master whup him. She jist wouldn't 'low it.</p> + +<p>I 'members de Yankees comin' through. When mother heard they were comin', she +took us chillun and carried us down into an ole field, and after that she carried +us back to the house. Missus lived in a two-story house. We lived in a little log +house in front of missus' house. My mother had a shoulder of meat and she hid it +under a mattress in the house. When the Yankees lef, she looked for it; they had +stole the meat and gone. Yes, they stole from us slaves. The road the Yankees wuz +travellin' wuz as thick wid' em as your fingers. I 'member their blue clothes, +their blue caps. De chickens they were carrying on their horses wuz<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> crowing. Dey +wuz driving cows, hogs, and things. Yes sir, ahead of 'em they come first. The +barns and lots were on one side de road dey were trabellin' on and de houses on +de other. Atter many Yankees had passed dey put a bodyguard at de door of de +great house, and didn't 'low no one to go in dere. I looked down at de Yankees +and spit at 'em. Mother snatched me back, and said, 'Come back here chile, dey +will kill you.'</p> + +<p>Dey carried de horses off de plantation and de meat from missus' smokehouse +and buried it. My uncle, Louis Scarborough, stayed wid de horses. He is livin' +yet, he is over a hundred years old. He lives down at Moores Mill, Wake County, +near Youngsville. Before de surrender one of de boys and my uncle got to +fightin', one of de Scarborough boys and him. My uncle threw him down. The young +Master Scarborough jumped up, and got his knife and cut uncle's entrails out so +uncle had to carry 'em to de house in his hands. About a year after de war my +father carried us to Franklin County. He carried us on a steer cart. Dat's about +all I 'member about de war.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln wuz de man who set us free. I think he wuz a mighty good man. +He done so much for de colored race, but what he done was intended through de +higher power. I don't think slavery wuz right.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + +<p>I think Mr. Roosevelt is a fine man, one of the best presidents in the world. +I voted for him, and I would vote for him ag'in. He has done a lot for de people, +and is still doin'. He got a lot of sympathy for 'em. Yas sir, a lot of sympathy +for de people.</p> + +<p><small>MM</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320184]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Margaret E. Dickens"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>655</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>MARGARET E. DICKENS</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Margaret E. Dickens</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 207px;"> +<img src="images/m_dickens.jpg" width="207" height="300" alt="m_dickens" title="Margaret E. Dickens" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> + +<h4>MARGARET E. DICKENS</h4> + +<h5>1115 E. Lenoir St.</h5> + +<p>My name is Margaret E. Dickens and I was born on the 5th of June 1861. My +mother wuz free born; her name wuz Mary Ann Hews, but my mother wuz colored. I +don't remember anything about Marster and Missus. My father was named Henry Byrd. +Here is some of father's writing. My mother's father was dark. He had no +protection. If he did any work for a white man and the white man didn't like it, +he could take him up and whup him. My father was like a stray dog.</p> + +<p>My name was Margaret E. Byrd before I got married. Here is some of father's +writing—"Margaret Elvira Byrd the daughter of Henry and Mary Ann Byrd was +born on the 5th June 1861." My grandfather, my mother's father was a cabinet +maker. He made coffins and tables and furniture. If he made one, and it didn't +suit the man he would beat him and kick him around and let him go. Dis was told +to me. My father was a carpenter. He built houses.</p> + +<p>I can read and write. My father could read and write. My mother could read, +but couldn't write very much.</p> + +<p>I have heerd my mother say when she heerd the Yankees were commin' she had a +brand new counterpane, my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> father owned a place before he married my +mother, the counterpane was a woolen woven counterpane. She took it off and hid +it. The Yankees took anything they wanted, but failed to find it. We were living +in Raleigh, at the time, on the very premises we are living on now. The old house +has been torn down, but some of the wood is in this very house. I kin show you +part of the old house now. My mother used to pass this place when she wuz a girl +and she told me she never expected to live here. She was twenty years younger +than my father. My mother, she lived here most of the time except twenty-four +years she lived in the North. She died in 1916. My father bought the lan' in 1848 +from a man named Henry Morgan. Here is the deed.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>When we left Raleigh, and went North we first stopped in Cambridge, Mass. This +was with my first husband. His name was Samuel E. Reynolds. He was a preacher. He +had a church and preached there. The East winds were so strong and cold we +couldn't stan' it. It was too cold for us. We then went to Providence, R. I. From +there to Elmira, N. Y. From there we went to Brooklyn, N. Y. He preached in the +State of New York; we finally came back South, and he died right here in this +house. I like the North very well, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>but there is nothing like home, the South. +Another thing I don't have so many white kin folks up North. I don't like to be +called Auntie by anyone, unless they admit bein' kin to me. I was not a fool when +I went to the North, and it made no change in me. I was raised to respect +everybody and I tries to keep it up. Some things in the North are all right, I +like them, but I like the South better. Yes, I guess I like the South better. I +was married to Charles W. Dickens in 1920. He is my second husband.</p> + +<p>I inherited this place from my father Henry Byrd. I like well water. There is +my well, right out here in the yard. This well was dug here when they were +building the first house here. I believe in havin' your own home, so I have held +on to my home, and I am goin' to try to keep holdin' on to it.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> An interesting feature of the deed is the fact + that Henry Morgan made his mark while Henry Byrd's signature is his own.</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320156]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Rev. Squire Dowd"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1369</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>REV. SQUIRE DOWD</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Rev. Squire Dowd</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="trans-note"> +<span class="hw">HW: Minister—Interesting</span><br /> +<span class="hw">HW: language not negro, very senternous & interesting.</span><br /> +[TR: The above comment is crossed out.]</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 221px;"> +<img src="images/r_dowd.jpg" width="221" height="300" alt="r_dowd" title="Rev. Dowd" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<div class="figright" style="width: 204px;"> +<img src="images/rev_dowd.jpg" width="204" height="300" alt="rev_dowd" title="Reverend Dowd" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> + +<h4>REVEREND SQUIRE DOWD</h4> + +<h5>202 Battle Street Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>My name is Squire Dowd, and I was born April 3, 1855. My mother's name was +Jennie Dowd. My father's name was Elias Kennedy. My mother died in Georgia at the +age of 70, and my father died in Moore County at the age of 82. I attended his +funeral. My sister and her husband had carried my mother to Georgia, when my +sister's husband went there to work in turpentine. My mother's husband was dead. +She had married a man named Stewart. You could hardly keep up with your father +during slavery time. It was a hard thing to do. There were few legal marriages. +When a young man from one plantation courted a young girl on the plantation, the +master married them, sometimes hardly knowing what he was saying.</p> + +<p>My master was General W. D. Dowd. He lived three miles from Carthage, in Moore +County, North Carolina. He owned fifty slaves. The conditions were good. I had +only ten years' experience, but it was a good experience. No man is fool enough +to buy slaves to kill. I have never known a real slave owner to abuse his slaves. +The abuse was done by patterollers and overseers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>I have a conservative view of slavery. I taught school for four years and I +have been in the ministry fifty years. I was ordained a Christian minister in +1885. I lived in Moore County until 1889, then I moved to Raleigh. I have +feeling. I don't like for people to have a feeling that slaves are no more than +dogs; I don't like that. It causes people to have the wrong idea of slavery. Here +is John Bectom, a well, healthy friend of mine, 75 years of age. If we had been +treated as some folks say, these big, healthy niggers would not be walking about +in the South now. The great Negro leaders we have now would never have come out +of it.</p> + +<p>The places we lived in were called cabins. The Negroes who were thrifty had +nice well-kept homes; and it is thus now. The thrifty of the colored race live +well; the others who are indolent live in hovels which smell foul and are +filthy.</p> + +<p>Prayer meetings were held at night in the cabins of the slaves. On Sunday we +went to the white folk's church. We sat in a barred-off place, in the back of the +church or in a gallery.</p> + +<p>We had a big time at cornshuckings. We had plenty of good things to eat, and +plenty of whiskey and brandy to drink. These shuckings were held at night. We had +a good time, and I never saw a fight at a cornshucking in life. If we could catch +the master after the shucking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> was over, we put him in a chair, we darkies, +and toted him around and hollered, carried him into the parlor, set him down, and +combed his hair. We only called the old master "master". We called his wife +"missus." When the white children grew up we called them Mars. John, Miss Mary, +etc.</p> + +<p>We had some money. We made baskets. On moonlight nights and holidays we +cleared land; the master gave us what we made on the land. We had money.</p> + +<p>The darkies also stole for deserters during the war. They paid us for it. I +ate what I stole, such as sugar. I was not big enough to steal for the deserters. +I was a house boy. I stole honey. I did not know I was free until five years +after the war. I could not realize I was free. Many of us stayed right on. If we +had not been ruined right after the war by carpetbaggers our race would have +been, well,—better up by this time, because they turned us against our +masters, when our masters had everything and we had nothing. The Freedmen's +Bureau helped us some, but we finally had to go back to the plantation in order +to live.</p> + +<p>We got election days, Christmas, New Year, etc., as holidays. When we were +slaves we had a week or more Christmas. The holidays lasted from Christmas Eve to +after New Years. Sometimes we got passes. If our master<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> would not give them to us, the +white boys we played with would give us one. We played cat, jumping, wrestling +and marbles. We played for fun; we did not play for money. There were 500 acres +on the plantation. We hunted a lot, and the fur of the animals we caught we sold +and had the money. We were allowed to raise a few chickens and pigs, which we +sold if we wanted to.</p> + +<p>The white folks rode to church and the darkies walked, as many of the poor +white folks did. We looked upon the poor white folks as our equals. They mixed +with us and helped us to envy our masters. They looked upon our masters as we +did.</p> + +<p>Negro women having children by the masters was common. My relatives on my +mother's side, who were Kellys are mixed blooded. They are partly white. We, the +darkies and many of the whites hate that a situation like this exists. It is +enough to say that seeing is believing. There were many and are now mixed blooded +people among the race.</p> + +<p>I was well clothed. Our clothes were made in looms. Shoes were made on the +plantation. Distilleries were also located on the plantation. When they told me I +was free, I did not notice it. I did not realize it till many years after when a +man made a speech at Carthage,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> telling us we were free.</p> + +<p>I did not like the Yankees. We were afraid of them. We had to be educated to +love the Yankees, and to know that they freed us and were our friends. I feel +that Abraham Lincoln was a father to us. We consider him thus because he freed +us. The Freedmen's Bureau and carpet baggers caused us to envy our masters and +the white folks. The Ku Klux Klan, when we pushed our rights, came in between us, +and we did not know what to do. The Ku Klux were after the carpet baggers and the +Negroes who followed them.</p> + +<p>It was understood that white people were not to teach Negroes during slavery, +but many of the whites taught the Negroes. The children of the white folks made +us study. I could read and write when the war was up. They made me study books, +generally a blue-back spelling book as punishment for mean things I done. My +Missus, a young lady about 16 years old taught a Sunday School class of colored +boys and girls. This Sunday School was held at a different time of day from the +white folks. Sometimes old men and old women were in these classes. I remember +once they asked Uncle Ben Pearson who was meekest man, 'Moses' he replied. 'Who +was the wisest man?' 'Soloman', 'Who was the strongest man?' was then asked him. +To this he said 'They say Bill<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> Medlin is the strongest, but Tom Shaw give him +his hands full.' They were men of the community. Medlin was white, Shaw was +colored.</p> + +<p>I do not like the way they have messed up our songs with classical music. I +like the songs, 'Roll Jordan Roll', 'Old Ship of Zion', 'Swing Low Sweet +Chariot'. Classical singers ruin them, though.</p> + +<p>There was no use of our going to town of Saturday afternoon to buy our +rations, so we worked Saturday afternoons. When we got sick the doctors treated +us. Dr. J. D. Shaw, Dr. Bruce, and Dr. Turner. They were the first doctors I ever +heard any tell of. They treated both whites and darkies on my master's +plantation.</p> + +<p>I married a Matthews, Anna Matthews, August 1881. We have one daughter. Her +name is Ella. She married George Cheatam of Henderson, N.C. A magistrate married +us, Mr. Pitt Cameron. It was just a quiet wedding on Saturday night with about +one-half dozen of my friends present.</p> + +<p>My idea of life is to forget the bad and live for the good there is in it. +This is my motto.</p> + +<p><small>B. N.</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320079]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Fannie Dunn"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>862</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>FANNIE DUNN</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Fannie Dunn</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 17 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> + +<h4>FANNIE DUNN</h4> + +<h5>222 Heck Street, Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I don't 'zakly know my age, but I knows and 'members when de Yankees come +through Wake County. I wus a little girl an' wus so skeered I run an hid under de +bed. De Yankees stopped at de plantation an' along de road fur a rest. I 'members +I had diphtheria an' a Yankee doctor come an' mopped my throat. Dey had to pull +me outen under de bed so he could doctor me.</p> + +<p>One Yankee would come along an' give us sumptin' an another would come on +behind him an' take it. Dats de way dey done. One give mother a mule an' when dey +done gone she sold it. A Yankee give mother a ham of meat, another come right on +behind him an' took it away from her. Dere shore wus a long line of dem Yankees. +I can 'member seeing 'em march by same as it wus yisterday. I wus not old enough +to work, but I 'members 'em. I don't know 'zackly but I wus 'bout five years old +when de surrender wus.</p> + +<p>My name before I wus married wus Fannie Sessoms an' mother wus named Della +Sessoms. We belonged to Dr. Isaac Sessoms an' our missus wus named Hanna. My +father wus named Perry Vick, after his marster who wus named Perry Vick. My +missus died durin' de war an' marster never married anymore.</p> + +<p>I don't 'member much 'bout missus but mother tole me she wus some good woman +an' she loved her. Marster wus mighty good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> to us an' didn't allow +patterollers to whip us none. De slave houses wus warm and really dey wus good +houses, an' didn't leak neither.</p> + +<p>I don't 'member much 'bout my grandparents, just a little mother tole me 'bout +'em. Grandma 'longed to de Sessoms an' Dr. Isaac Sessoms brother wus mother's +father. Mother tole me dat. Look at dat picture, mister, you see you can't tell +her from a white woman. Dats my mother's picture. She wus as white as you wid +long hair an' a face like a white woman. She been dead 'bout twenty years. My +mother said dat we all fared good, but course we wore homemade clothes an' wooden +bottomed shoes.</p> + +<p>We went to the white folks church at Red Oak an' Rocky Mount Missionary +Baptist Churches. We were allowed to have prayer meetings at de slave houses, two +an' three times a week. I 'members goin' to church 'bout last year of de war wid +mother. I had a apple wid me an' I got hungry an' wanted to eat it in meetin' but +mother jest looked at me an' touched my arm, dat wus enough. I didn't eat de +apple. I can 'member how bad I wanted to eat it. Don't 'member much 'bout dat +sermon, guess I put my mind on de apple too much.</p> + +<p>Marster had about twenty slaves an' mother said dey had always been allowed to +go to church an' have prayer meetings 'fore I wus born. Marster had both white +an' colored overseers but he would not allow any of his overseers to bulldoze +over his slaves too much. He would call a overseer down for bein' rough at de +wrong time. Charles Sessoms wus one of marster's colored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> overseers. He 'longed to +marster, an' mother said marster always listened to what Charles said. Dey said +marster had always favored him even 'fore he made him overseer. Charles Sessoms +fell dead one day an' mother found him. She called Marster Sessoms an' he come +an' jest cried. Mother said when Marster come he wus dead shore enough, dat +marster jest boohooed an' went to de house, an' wouldn't look at him no more till +dey started to take him to de grave. Everybody on de plantation went to his +buryin' an' funeral an' some from de udder plantation dat joined ourn.</p> + +<p>I 'members but little 'bout my missus, but 'members one time she run me when I +wus goin' home from de great house, an' she said, 'I am goin' to catch you, now I +catch you'. She pickin' at me made me love her. When she died mother tole me +'bout her bein' dead an' took me to her buryin'. Next day I wanted to go an' get +her up. I tole mother I wanted her to come home an' eat. Mother cried an' took me +up in her arms, an' said, 'Honey missus will never eat here again.' I wus so +young I didn't understand.</p> + +<p>Dr. Sessoms an' also Dr. Drake, who married his daughter, doctored us when we +wus sick. Dr. Joe Drake married marster's only daughter Harriet an' his only son +David died in Mississippi. He had a plantation dere.</p> + +<p>I been married only once. I wus married forty years ago to Sidney Dunn. I had +one chile, she's dead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + +<p>From what I knows of slavery an' what my mother tole me I can't say it wus a +bad thing. Mister, I wants to tell de truth an' I can't say its bad 'cause my +mother said she had a big time as a slave an' I knows I had a good time an' wus +treated right.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320187]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Jennylin Dunn"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>382</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>JENNYLIN DUNN</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Jennylin Dunn</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 199px;"> +<img src="images/j_dunn.jpg" width="199" height="300" alt="j_dunn" title="Jennylin Dunn" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> + +<h4>JENNYLIN DUNN</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story<br /> +An interview with Jennylin Dunn 87, of 315 Bledsoe Avenue, Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I wuz borned hyar in Wake County eighty-seben years ago. Me an' my folks an' +bout six others belonged ter Mis' Betsy Lassiter who wuz right good ter us, do' +she sho' did know dat chilluns needs a little brushin' now an' den.</p> + +<p>My papa wuz named Isaac, my mammy wuz named Liza, an' my sisters wuz named +Lucy, Candice an' Harriet. Dar wuz one boy what died 'fore I can 'member an' I +doan know his name.</p> + +<p>We ain't played no games ner sung no songs, but we had fruit ter eat an' a +heap of watermillions ter eat in de season.</p> + +<p>I seed seberal slabe sales on de block, front of de Raleigh Cou't house, an' +yo' can't think how dese things stuck in my mind. A whole heap o' times I seed +mammies sold from dere little babies, an' dar wuz no'min' den, as yo' knows.</p> + +<p>De patterollers wuz sumpin dat I wuz skeerd of. I know jist two o' 'em, Mr. +Billy Allen Dunn an' Mr. Jim Ray, an' I'se hyard of some scandelous things dat +dey done. Dey do say dat dey whupped some of de niggers scandelous.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + +<p>When dey hyard dat de Yankees wuz on dere way ter hyar dey says ter us dat dem +Yankees eats little nigger youngins, an' we shore stays hid.</p> + +<p>I jist seed squeamishin' parties lookin' fer sumpin' ter eat, an' I'se hyard +dat dey tuck ever'thing dey comes 'crost. A whole heap of it dey flunged away, +an' atterwards dey got hongry too.</p> + +<p>One of 'em tried ter tell us dat our white folks stold us from our country an' +brung us hyar, but since den I foun' out dat de Yankees stole us dereselves, an' +den dey sold us ter our white folkses.</p> + +<p>Atter de war my pappy an' mammy brung us ter Raleigh whar I'se been libin' +since dat time. We got along putty good, an' de Yankees sont us some teachers, +but most o' us wuz so busy scramblin' roun' makin' a livin' dat we ain't got no +time fer no schools.</p> + +<p>I reckon dat hit wuz better dat de slaves wuz freed, but I still loves my +white folkses, an' dey loves me.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320125]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Lucy Ann Dunn"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1119</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>AUNT LUCY'S LOVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Lucy Ann Dunn</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> + +<h4>AUNT LUCY'S LOVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Lucy Ann Dunn, 90 years old, 220 Cannon Street, Raleigh, +N.C.</h5> + +<p>My pappy, Dempsey, my mammy, Rachel an' my brothers an' sisters an' me all +belonged ter Marse Peterson Dunn of Neuse, here in Wake County. Dar wus five of +us chilluns, Allen, Charles, Corina, Madora an' me, all borned before de war.</p> + +<p>My mammy wus de cook, an' fur back as I 'members almost, I wus a house girl. I +fanned flies offen de table an' done a heap of little things fer Mis' Betsy, +Marse Peterson's wife. My pappy worked on de farm, which wus boun' ter have been +a big plantation wid two hundert an' more niggers ter work hit.</p> + +<p>I 'members when word come dat war wus declared, how Mis' Betsy cried an' +prayed an' how Marse Peter quarreled an' walked de floor cussin' de Yankees.</p> + +<p>De war comes on jist de same an' some of de men slaves wus sent ter Roanoke +ter hep buil' de fort. Yes mam, de war comes ter de great house an' ter de slave +cabins jist alike.</p> + +<p>De great house wus large an' white washed, wid green blinds an' de slave +cabins wus made of slabs wid plank floors. We had plenty ter eat an' enough ter +wear an' we wus happy. We had our fun an' we had our troubles, lak little +whuppin's, when we warn't good, but dat warn't often.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<p>Atter so long a time de rich folkses tried ter hire, er make de po' white +trash go in dere places, but some of dem won't go. Dey am treated so bad dat some +of dem cides ter be Ku Kluxes an' dey goes ter de woods ter live. When we starts +ter take up de aigs er starts from de spring house wid de butter an' milk dey +grabs us an' takes de food fer dereselbes.</p> + +<p>Dis goes on fer a long time an' finally one day in de spring I sets on de +porch an' I hear a roar. I wus 'sponsible fer de goslins dem days so I sez ter de +missus, 'I reckin dat I better git in de goslins case I hear hit +a-thunderin'.</p> + +<p>'Dat ain't no thunder, nigger, dat am de canon', she sez.</p> + +<p>'What canon', I axes?</p> + +<p>'Why de canon what dey am fightin' wid', she sez.</p> + +<p>Well dat ebenin' I is out gittin' up de goslins when I hears music, I looks up +de road an' I sees flags, an' 'bout dat time de Yankees am dar a-killin' as dey +goes. Dey kills de geese, de ducks, de chickens, pigs an' ever'thing. Dey goes +ter de house an' dey takes all of de meat, de meal, an' ever'thing dey can git +dere paws on.</p> + +<p>When dey goes ter de kitchen whar mammy am cookin' she cuss dem out an' run +dem outen her kitchen. Dey shore am a rough lot.</p> + +<p>I aint never fergot how Mis' Betsy cried when de news of de surrender come. +She aint said nothin' but Marse Peter he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> makes a speech sayin' dat he aint had ter sell +none of us, dat he aint whupped none of us bad, dat nobody has ever run away from +him yet. Den he tells us dat all who wants to can stay right on fer wages.</p> + +<p>Well we stayed two years, even do my pappy died de year atter de surrender, +den we moves ter Marse Peter's other place at Wake Forest. Atter dat we moves +back ter Neuse.</p> + +<p>Hit wus in de little Baptist church at Neuse whar I fust seed big black Jim +Dunn an' I fell in love wid him den, I reckons. He said dat he loved me den too, +but hit wus three Sundays 'fore he axed ter see me home.</p> + +<p>We walked dat mile home in front of my mammy an' I wus so happy dat I aint +thought hit a half a mile home. We et cornbread an' turnips fer dinner an' hit +wus night 'fore he went home. Mammy wouldn't let me walk wid him ter de gate. I +knowed, so I jist sot dar on de porch an' sez good night.</p> + +<p>He come ever' Sunday fer a year an' finally he proposed. I had told mammy dat +I thought dat I ort ter be allowed ter walk ter de gate wid Jim an' she said all +right iffen she wus settin' dar on de porch lookin'.</p> + +<p>Dat Sunday night I did walk wid Jim ter de gate an' stood under de +honeysuckles dat wus a-smellin' so sweet. I heard de big ole bullfrogs a-croakin' +by de riber an' de whipper-wills a-hollerin' in de woods. Dar wus a big yaller<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +moon, an' I reckon Jim did love me. Anyhow he said so an' axed me ter marry him +an' he squeezed my han'.</p> + +<p>I tol' him I'd think hit ober an' I did an' de nex' Sunday I tol' him dat I'd +have him.</p> + +<p>He aint kissed me yet but de nex' Sunday he axes my mammy fer me. She sez dat +she'll have ter have a talk wid me an' let him know.</p> + +<p>Well all dat week she talks ter me, tellin' me how serious gittin' married is +an' dat hit lasts a powerful long time.</p> + +<p>I tells her dat I knows hit but dat I am ready ter try hit an' dat I intends +ter make a go of hit, anyhow.</p> + +<p>On Sunday night mammy tells Jim dat he can have me an' yo' orter seed dat +black boy grin. He comes ter me widout a word an' he picks me up outen dat cheer +an' dar in de moonlight he kisses me right 'fore my mammy who am a-cryin'.</p> + +<p>De nex' Sunday we wus married in de Baptist church at Neuse. I had a new white +dress, do times wus hard.</p> + +<p>We lived tergether fifty-five years an' we always loved each other. He aint +never whup ner cuss me an' do we had our fusses an' our troubles we trusted in de +Lawd an' we got through. I loved him durin' life an' I love him now, do he's been +daid now fer twelve years.</p> + +<p>The old lady with her long white hair bowed her head and sobbed for a moment +then she began again unsteadily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<p>We had eight chilluns, but only four of dem are livin' now. De livin' are +James, Sidney, Helen an' Florence who wus named fer Florence Nightingale.</p> + +<p>I can't be here so much longer now case I'se gittin' too old an' feeble an' I +wants ter go ter Jim anyhow. The old woman wiped her eyes, 'I thinks of him all +de time, but seems lak we're young agin when I smell honeysuckles er see a yaller +moon.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320271]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Tempie Herdon Durham"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Travis Jordan</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Tempie Herdon Durham</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave 103 Years Old</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>1312 Pine St., Durham, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 23 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 174px;"> +<img src="images/t_durham.jpg" width="174" height="300" alt="t_durham" title="Tempie Herndon Durham" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> + +<h4>TEMPIE HERNDON DURHAM</h4> + +<h5>EX-SLAVE 103 YEARS OLD<br /> +1312 PINE ST., DURHAM, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I was thirty-one years ole when de surrender come. Dat makes me sho nuff ole. +Near 'bout a hundred an' three years done passed over dis here white head of +mine. I'se been here, I mean I'se been here. 'Spects I'se de olest nigger in +Durham. I'se been here so long dat I done forgot near 'bout as much as dese here +new generation niggers knows or ever gwine know.</p> + +<p>My white fo'ks lived in Chatham County. Dey was Marse George an' Mis' Betsy +Herndon. Mis Betsy was a Snipes befo' she married Marse George. Dey had a big +plantation an' raised cawn, wheat, cotton an' 'bacca. I don't know how many field +niggers Marse George had, but he had a mess of dem, an' he had hosses too, an' +cows, hogs an' sheeps. He raised sheeps an' sold de wool, an' dey used de wool at +de big house too. Dey was a big weavin' room whare de blankets was wove, an' dey +wove de cloth for de winter clothes too. Linda Hernton an' Milla Edwards was de +head weavers, dey looked after de weavin' of de fancy blankets. Mis' Betsy was a +good weaver too. She weave de same as de niggers. She say she love de clackin' +soun' of de loom, an' de way de shuttles run in an' out carryin' a long tail of +bright colored thread. Some days she set at de loom all de mawnin' peddlin' wid +her feets an' her white han's flittin' over de bobbins.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>De cardin' an' spinnin' room was full of niggers. I can hear dem spinnin' +wheels now turnin' roun' an' sayin' hum-m-m-m, hum-m-m-m, an' hear de slaves +singin' while dey spin. Mammy Rachel stayed in de dyein' room. Dey wuzn' nothin' +she didn' know' bout dyein'. She knew every kind of root, bark, leaf an' berry +dat made red, blue, green, or whatever color she wanted. Dey had a big shelter +whare de dye pots set over de coals. Mammy Rachel would fill de pots wid water, +den she put in de roots, bark an' stuff an' boil de juice out, den she strain it +an'put in de salt an' vinegar to set de color. After de wool an' cotton done been +carded an' spun to thread, Mammy take de hanks an' drap dem in de pot of bollin' +dye. She stir dem' roun' an' lif' dem up an' down wid a stick, an' when she hang +dem up on de line in de sun, dey was every color of de rainbow. When dey dripped +dry dey was sent to de weavin' room whare dey was wove in blankets an' +things.</p> + +<p>When I growed up I married Exter Durham. He belonged to Marse Snipes Durham +who had de plantation 'cross de county line in Orange County. We had a big +weddin'. We was married on de front po'ch of de big house. Marse George killed a +shoat an' Mis' Betsy had Georgianna, de cook, to bake a big weddin' cake all iced +up white as snow wid a bride an' groom standin' in de middle holdin' han's. De +table was set out in de yard under de trees, an' you ain't never seed de like of +eats. All de niggers come to de feas' an' Marse George had a dram for everybody. +Dat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> was +some weddin'. I had on a white dress, white shoes an' long white gloves dat come +to my elbow, an' Mis' Betsy done made me a weddin' veil out of a white net window +curtain. When she played de weddin ma'ch on de piano, me an' Exter ma'ched down +de walk an' up on de po'ch to de altar Mis' Betsy done fixed. Dat de pretties' +altar I ever seed. Back 'gainst de rose vine dat was full or red roses, Mis' +Betsy done put tables filled wid flowers an' white candles. She done spread down +a bed sheet, a sho nuff linen sheet, for us to stan' on, an' dey was a white +pillow to kneel down on. Exter done made me a weddin' ring. He made it out of a +big red button wid his pocket knife. He done cut it so roun' an' polished it so +smooth dat it looked like a red satin ribbon tide 'roun' my finger. Dat sho was a +pretty ring. I wore it 'bout fifty years, den it got so thin dat I lost it one +day in de wash tub when I was washin' clothes.</p> + +<p>Uncle Edmond Kirby married us. He was de nigger preacher dat preached at de +plantation church. After Uncle Edmond said de las' words over me an' Exter, Marse +George got to have his little fun: He say, 'Come on, Exter, you an' Tempie got to +jump over de broom stick backwards; you got to do dat to see which one gwine be +boss of your househol'.' Everybody come stan' 'roun to watch. Marse George hold +de broom 'bout a foot high off de floor. De one dat jump over it backwards an' +never touch de handle, gwine boss de house, an' if bof of dem jump over widout +touchin' it, dey won't gwine be no bossin', dey jus'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> gwine be 'genial. I jumped +fus', an' you ought to seed me. I sailed right over dat broom stick same as a +cricket, but when Exter jump he done had a big dram an' his feets was so big an' +clumsy dat dey got all tangled up in dat broom an' he fell head long. Marse +George he laugh an' laugh, an' tole Exter he gwine be bossed 'twell he skeered to +speak less'n I tole him to speak. After de weddin' we went down to de cabin Mis' +Betsy done all dressed up, but Exter couldn' stay no longer den dat night kaze he +belonged to Marse Snipes Durham an' he had to back home. He lef' de nex day for +his plantation, but he come back every Saturday night an' stay 'twell Sunday +night. We had eleven chillun. Nine was bawn befo' surrender an' two after we was +set free. So I had two chillun dat wuzn' bawn in bondage. I was worth a heap to +Marse George kaze I had so manny chillun. De more chillun a slave had de more dey +was worth. Lucy Carter was de only nigger on de plantation dat had more chillun +den I had. She had twelve, but her chillun was sickly an' mine was muley strong +an' healthy. Dey never was sick.</p> + +<p>When de war come Marse George was too ole to go, but young Marse Bill went. He +went an' took my brother Sim wid him. Marse Bill took Sim along to look after his +hoss an' everything. Dey didn' neither one get shot, but Mis' Betsy was skeered +near 'bout to death all de time, skeered dey was gwine be brung home shot all to +pieces like some of de sojers was.</p> + +<p>De Yankees wuzn' so bad. De mos' dey wanted was sumpin' to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> eat. Dey was +all de time hungry, de fus' thing dey ax for when dey came was sumpin' to put in +dey stomach. An' chicken! I ain' never seed even a preacher eat chicken like dem +Yankees. I believes to my soul dey ain' never seed no chicken 'twell dey come +down here. An' hot biscuit too. I seed a passel of dem eat up a whole sack of +flour one night for supper. Georgianna sif' flour 'twell she look white an' dusty +as a miller. Dem sojers didn' turn down no ham neither. Dat de onlies' thing dey +took from Marse George. Dey went in de smoke house an' toted off de hams an' +shoulders. Marse George say he come off mighty light if dat all dey want, 'sides +he got plenty of shoats anyhow.</p> + +<p>We had all de eats we wanted while de war was shootin' dem guns, kaze Marse +George was home an' he kep' de niggers workin'. We had chickens, gooses, meat, +peas, flour, meal, potatoes an' things like dat all de time, an' milk an' butter +too, but we didn' have no sugar an' coffee. We used groun' pa'ched cawn for +coffee an' cane 'lasses for sweetnin'. Dat wuzn' so bad wid a heap of thick +cream. Anyhow, we had enough to eat to 'vide wid de neighbors dat didn' have none +when surrender come.</p> + +<p>I was glad when de war stopped kaze den me an' Exter could be together all de +time 'stead of Saturday an' Sunday. After we was free we lived right on at Marse +George's plantation a long time. We rented de lan' for a fo'th of what we made, +den after while be bought a farm. We paid three hundred dollars we done saved. We +had a hoss, a steer, a cow an' two pigs, 'sides some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> chickens an' fo' geese. Mis' +Betsy went up in de attic an' give us a bed an' bed tick; she give us enough +goose feathers to make two pillows, den she give us a table an' some chairs. She +give us some dishes too. Marse George give Exter a bushel of seed cawn an some +seed wheat, den he tole him to go down to de barn an' get a bag of cotton seed. +We got all dis den we hitched up de wagon an' th'owed in de passel of chillun an' +moved to our new farm, an' de chillun was put to work in de fiel'; dey growed up +in de fiel' kaze dey was put to work time dey could walk good.</p> + +<p>Freedom is all right, but de niggers was better off befo' surrender, kaze den +dey was looked after an' dey didn' get in no trouble fightin' an' killin' like +dey do dese days. If a nigger cut up an' got sassy in slavery times, his Ole +Marse give him a good whippin' an' he went way back an' set down an' 'haved +hese'f. If he was sick, Marse an' Mistis looked after him, an' if he needed store +medicine, it was bought an' give to him; he didn' have to pay nothin'. Dey didn' +even have to think' bout clothes nor nothin' like dat, dey was wove an' made an' +give to dem. Maybe everybody's Marse an' Mistis wuzn' good as Marse George an' +Mis' Betsy, but dey was de same as a mammy an' pappy to us niggers.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320160]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="George Eatman"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>466</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>EX-SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>George Eatman</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 220px;"> +<img src="images/g_eatman.jpg" width="220" height="300" alt="g_eatman" title="George Eatman" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An Interview on May 18, 1937 with George Eatman, 93, of Cary, R. #1.</h5> + +<p>I belonged ter Mr. Gus Eatman who lived at de ole Templeton place on de Durham +highway back as fer as I can 'member. I doan r'member my mammy an' pappy case dey +wuz sold 'fore I knowed anything. I raised myself an' I reckon dat I done a fair +job uv it. De marster an' missus wuz good to dere twenty-five slaves an' we ain't +neber got no bad whuppin's.</p> + +<p>I doan 'member much playin' an' such like, but I de 'members dat I wuz de +handy boy 'round de house.</p> + +<p>De Confederate soldiers camp at Ephesus Church one night, an' de nex' day de +marster sent me ter de mill on Crabtree. Yo' 'members where ole Company mill is, +I reckon? Well, as I rode de mule down de hill, out comes Wheeler's Calvalry, +which am as mean as de Yankees, an' dey ax me lots uv questions. Atter awhile dey +rides on an' leaves me 'lone.</p> + +<p>While I am at de mill one uv Wheeler's men takes my mule an' my co'n, an' I +takes de ole saddle an' starts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> ter walkin' back home. All de way, most, I +walks in de woods, case Wheeler's men am still passin'.</p> + +<p>When I gits ter de Morgan place I hyars de cannons a-boomin', ahh—h I +ain't neber hyar sich a noise, an' when I gits so dat I can see dar dey goes, as +thick as de hairs on a man's haid. I circles round an' gits behin' dem an' goes +inter de back uv de-house. Well, dar stan's a Yankee, an' he axes Missus Mary fer +de smokehouse key. She gibes it ter him an' dey gits all uv de meat.</p> + +<p>One big can uv grease am all dat wuz saved, an' dat wuz burried in de broom +straw down in de fiel'.</p> + +<p>Dey camps roun' dar dat night an' dey shoots ever chicken, pig, an' calf dey +sees. De nex' day de marster goes ter Raleigh, an' gits a gyard, but dey has done +stole all our stuff an' we am liven' mostly on parched co'n.</p> + +<p>De only patterollers I knowed wuz Kenyan Jones an' Billy Pump an' dey wuz +called po' white trash. Dey owned blood houn's, an' chased de niggers an' whupped +dem shamful, I hyars. I neber seed but one Ku Klux an' he wuz sceered o' +dem.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> + +<p>Atter de war we stayed on five or six years case we ain't had no place else +ter go.</p> + +<p>We ain't liked Abraham Lincoln, case he wuz a fool ter think dat we could live +widout de white folkses, an' Jeff Davis wuz tryin' ter keep us, case he wuz +greedy an' he wanted ter be de boss dog in politics.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320121]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Doc Edwards"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 32</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Whaley</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-slave Story.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Doc Edwards</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-slave. 84 Yrs</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Staggville, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 6 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class="hw">HW: Capital A—circled</span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> + +<h4>DOC EDWARDS</h4> + +<h5>EX-SLAVE, 84 Yrs.</h5> + +<p>I was bawn at Staggville, N.C., in 1853. I belonged to Marse Paul Cameron. My +pappy was Murphy McCullers. Mammy's name was Judy. Dat would make me a McCullers, +but I was always knowed as Doc Edwards an' dat is what I am called to dis +day.</p> + +<p>I growed up to be de houseman an' I cooked for Marse Benehan,—Marse +Paul's son. Marse Benehan was good to me. My health failed from doing so much +work in de house an' so I would go for a couple of hours each day an' work in de +fiel' to be out doors an' get well again.</p> + +<p>Marse Paul had so many niggers dat he never counted dem. When we opened de +gate for him or met him in de road he would say, "Who is you? Whare you belong?" +We would say, "We belong to Marse Paul." "Alright, run along" he'd say den, an' +he would trow us a nickel or so.</p> + +<p>We had big work shops whare we made all de tools, an' even de shovels was made +at home. Dey was made out of wood, so was de rakes, pitchforks an' some of de +hoes. Our nails was made in de blacksmith shop by han' an' de picks an' grubbin' +hoes, too.</p> + +<p>We had a han' thrashing machine. It was roun' like a stove pipe, only bigger. +We fed de wheat to it an' shook it' til de wheat was loose from de straw an' when +it come out at de other end it fell on a big cloth, bigger den de sheets. We had +big curtains all roun' de cloth on de floor, like a tent, so de wheat wouldn' get +scattered. Den we took de pitchfork an' lifted de straw up an' down so de wheat +would go on de cloth. Den we moved de straw when de wheat was all loose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> Den we +fanned de wheat wid big pieces of cloth to get de dust an' dirt outen it, so it +could be taken to de mill an' groun' when it was wanted.</p> + +<p>When de fall come we had a regular place to do different work. We had han' +looms an' wove our cotton an' yarn an' made de cloth what was to make de clothes +for us to wear.</p> + +<p>We had a shop whare our shoes was made. De cobbler would make our shoes wid +wooden soles. After de soles was cut out dey would be taken down to de blacksmiyh +an' he would put a thin rim of iron aroun' de soles to keep dem from splitting. +Dese soles was made from maple an' ash wood.</p> + +<p>We didn' have any horses to haul wid. We used oxen an' ox-carts. De horse and +mules was used to do de plowin'.</p> + +<p>When de Yankees come dey didn' do so much harm, only dey tole us we was free +niggers. But I always feel like I belong to Marse Paul, an' i still live at +Staggville on de ole plantation. I has a little garden an' does what I can to +earn a little somethin'. De law done fixed it so now dat I will get a little +pension, an' I'll stay right on in dat little house 'til de good Lawd calls me +home, den I will see Marse Paul once more.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320001]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="John Evans"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 11</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs. W. N. Harriss</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>658</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>John Evans</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Born in Slavery</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs. W. N. Harriss</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"SEP—1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 291px;"> +<img src="images/j_evans.jpg" width="291" height="300" alt="j_evans" title="John Evans" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + +<h5>Interviewed<br /> +John Evans on the street and in this Office. Residence changes frequently.</h5> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> + +<h4>Story of John Evans Born in Slavery.</h4> + +<p>I was born August 15th, 1859. I am 78 years old. Dat comes out right, don't +it? My mother's name was Hattie Newbury. I don't never remember seein' my Pa. We +lived on Middle Sound an' dat's where I was born. I knows de room, 'twas +upstairs, an' when I knowed it, underneath, downstairs dat is, was bags of seed +an' horse feed, harness an' things, but it was slave quarters when I come +heah.</p> + +<p>Me an' my mother stayed right on with Mis' Newberry after freedom, an' never +knowed no diffunce. They was jus' like sisters an' I never knowed nothin' but +takin' keer of Mistus Newberry. She taught me my letters an' the Bible, an' was +mighty perticler 'bout my manners. An' I'm tellin' you my manners is brought me a +heap more money than my readin'—or de Bible. I'm gwine tell you how dat is, +but fust I want to say the most I learned on Middle Sound was' bout fishin' an' +huntin'. An' dawgs.</p> + +<p>My! But there sho' was birds an' possums on de Sound in dem days. Pa'tridges +all over de place. Why, even me an' my Mammy et pa'tridges fer bre'kfust. Think +of dat now! But when I growed up my job was fishin'. I made enough sellin' fish +to the summer folks all along Wrightsville and Greenville Sounds to keep me all +winter.</p> + +<p>My Mammy cooked fer Mis' Newberry. After a while they both died. I never +did'nt git married.</p> + +<p>I don't know nothin' 'bout all the mean things I hear tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> about slaves +an' sich. We was just one fam'ly an' had all we needed. We never paid no 'tention +to freedom or not freedom. I remember eve'ybody had work to do in slavery an' dey +gone right on doin' it sence. An' nobody don't git nowheres settin' down holdin' +their han's. It do'n make so much diffunce anyhow what you does jes so's you does +it.</p> + +<p>One time when I was carryin' in my fish to <ins class="edcorr" title="difficult to read">"Airlie"</ins> +Mr. Pem Jones heard me laff, an' after I opened dis here mouf of mine an' laffed +fer him I didn't have to bother 'bout fish no mo'. Lordy, dose rich folks he used +to bring down fum New Yo'k is paid me as much as <span class="u">sixty</span> +dollars a week to laff fer 'em. One of 'em was named Mr. <span class="u">Fish</span>. Now you know dat tickled <i>me</i>. I could jes laff an' +laff 'bout dat. Mr. Pem give me fine clo'es an' a tall silk hat. I'd eat a big +dinner in de kitchen an' den go in' mongst de quality an' laff fer' em an' make +my noise like a wood saw in my th'oat. Dey was crazy 'bout dat. An' then's when I +began to be thankful 'bout my manners. I's noticed if you has nice manners wid +eve'ybody people gwine to be nice to you.</p> + +<p>Well, (with a long sigh) I don't pick up no sich money nowadays; but my +manners gives me many a chance to laff, an' I never don't go hungry.</p> + +<p>John has been a well known character for fifty years among the summer +residents along the sounds and on Wrightsville Beach. He was a fisherman and +huckster in his palmy days, but now John's vigor is on the wane, and he has +little left with which to gain a livelihood except his unusually contagious +laugh, and a truly remarkable flow of words. "Old John" could give Walter Winchel +a handicap of twenty words a minute and then beat him at his own game.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> His mouth is +enormous and his voice deep and resonant. He can make a noise like a wood saw +which he maintains for 2 or 3 minutes without apparent effort, the sound buzzing +on and on from some mysterious depths of his being with amazing perfection of +imitation.</p> + +<p>Any day during the baseball season John may be seen sandwiched between his +announcement boards, a large bell in one hand, crying the ball game of the day. +"Old John" to the youngsters; but finding many a quarter dropped in his hand by +the older men with memories of gay hours and hearty laughter.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320198]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Lindsay Faucette"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Whaley</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>EX-SLAVE</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Lindsay Faucette</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Church Street,</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Durham, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUL 2 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> + +<h4>LINDSEY FAUCETTE, 86 Yrs.</h4> + +<h5>Ex-slave.</h5> + +<p>Yes, Mis', I wuz bawn in 1851, de 16th of November, on de Occoneechee +Plantation, owned by Marse John Norwood an' his good wife, Mis' Annie. An' when I +say 'good' I mean jus dat, for no better people ever lived den my Marse John an' +Mis' Annie.</p> + +<p>One thing dat made our Marse an' Mistis so good wuz de way dey brought up us +niggers. We wuz called to de big house an' taught de Bible an' dey wuz Bible +readin's every day. We wuz taught to be good men an' women an' to be hones'. +Marse never sold any of us niggers. But when his boys and girls got married he +would give dem some of us to take with dem.</p> + +<p>Marse never allowed us to be whipped. One time we had a white overseer an' he +whipped a fiel' han' called Sam Norwood, til de blood come. He beat him so bad +dat de other niggers had to take him down to de river an' wash de blood off. When +Marse come an' foun' dat out he sent dat white man off an' wouldn' let him stay +on de plantation over night. He jus' wouldn' have him roun' de place no longer. +He made Uncle Whitted de overseer kase he wuz one of de oldest slaves he had an' +a good nigger.</p> + +<p>When any of us niggers got sick Mis' Annie would come down to de cabin to see +us. She brung de best wine, good chicken an' chicken soup an' everything else she +had at de big house dat she thought we would like, an' she done everything she +could to get us well again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> + +<p>Marse John never worked us after dark. We worked in de day an' had de nights +to play games an' have singin's. We never cooked on a Sunday. Everything we ett +on dat day was cooked on Saturday. Dey wuzn' lighted in de cook stoves or fire +places in de big house or cabins neither. Everybody rested on Sunday. De tables +wuz set an' de food put on to eat, but nobody cut any wood an' dey wuzn' no other +work don' on dat day. Mammy Beckie wuz my gran'mammy an' she toted de keys to de +pantry an' smoke house, an' her word went wid Marse John an' Mis' Annie.</p> + +<p>Marse John wuz a great lawyer an' when he went to Pittsboro an' other places +to practice, if he wuz to stay all night, Mis' Annie had my mammy sleep right in +bed wid her, so she wouldn' be 'fraid.</p> + +<p>Marse an Mistis had three sons an' three daughters,—De oldest son wuz +not able to go to war. He had studied so hard dat it had 'fected his mind, so he +stayed at home. De secon' son, named Albert, went to war an' wuz brought back +dead with a bullet hole through his head. Dat liked to have killed Marse John an' +Mis' Annie. Dey wuz three girls, named, Mis' Maggie, Mis' Ella Bella and Mis' +Rebena.</p> + +<p>I wuz de cow-tender. I took care of de cows an' de calves. I would have to +hold de calf up to de mother cow 'til de milk would come down an' den I would +have to hold it away 'til somebody done de milkin'. I tended de horses, too, an' +anything else dat I wuz told to do.</p> + +<p>When de war started an' de Yankees come, dey didn' do much harm to our place. +Marse had all de silver an' money an' other things of value hid under a big rock +be de river an' de Yankees never did fine anything dat we hid.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> + +<p>Our own sojers did more harm on our plantation den de Yankees. Dey camped in +de woods an' never did have nuff to eat an' took what dey wanted. An' lice! I +ain't never seed de like. It took fifteen years for us to get shed of de lice dat +de sojers lef' behind. You jus' couldn' get dem out of your clothes les' you +burned dem up. Dey wuz hard to get shed of.</p> + +<p>After de war wuz over Marse John let Pappy have eighteen acres of land for de +use of two of his boys for a year. My pappy made a good crop of corn, wheat an' +other food on dis land. Dey wuz a time when you couldn' find a crust of bread or +piece of meat in my mammy's pantry for us to eat, an' when she did get a little +meat or bread she would divide it between us chillun, so each would have a share +an' go without herself an' never conplained.</p> + +<p>When pappy wuz makin' his crop some of de others would ask him why he didn' +take up some of his crop and get somethin' to eat. He would answer an' say dat +when he left dat place he intended to take his crop with him an' he did. He took +plenty of corn, wheat, potatoes an' other food, a cow, her calf, mule an' hogs +an' he moved to a farm dat he bought.</p> + +<p>Later on in years my pappy an mammy come here in Durham an' bought a home. I +worked for dem' til I wuz thirty-two years old an' give dem what money I earned. +I worked for as little as twenty-five cents a day. Den I got a dray an' hauled +for fifteen cents a load from de Durham depo' to West Durham for fifteen years. +Little did I think at dat time dat I would ever have big trucks an' a payroll of +$6,000.00 a year. De good Lawd has blest me all de way, an' all I have is His'n, +even to my own breath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p> + +<p>Den one day I went back home to see my old Marse an' I foun' him sittin' in a +big chair on de po'ch an' his health wuzn' so good. He sed, "Lindsey, why don' +you stop runnin' roun' wid de girls an' stop you cou't 'n? You never will get +nowhere makin' all de girls love you an' den you walk away an' make up with some +other girl. Go get yourself a good girl an' get married an' raise a family an' be +somebody." An' I did. I quit all de girls an' I foun' a fine girl and we wuz +married. I sho got a good wife; I got one of de best women dat could be foun' an' +we lived together for over forty-five years. Den she died six years ago now, an' +I sho miss her for she wuz a real help-mate all through dese years. We raised +five chillun an' educated dem to be school teachers an' other trades.</p> + +<p>I have tried to live de way I wuz raised to. My wife never worked a day away +from home all de years we wuz married. It wuz my raisin an' my strong faith in my +Lawd an' Marster dat helped me to get along as well as I have, an' I bless Him +every day for de strength He has given me to bring up my family as well as I +have. Der is only one way to live an' dat is de right way. Educate your chillun, +if you can, but be sho you give dem de proper moral training at home. De right +way to raise your chillun is to larn dem to have manners and proper respect for +their parents, be good citizens an' God fearin' men an' women. When you have done +dat you will not be ashamed of dem in your old age. I bless my Maker dat I have +lived so clos' to Him as I have all dese years an' when de time comes to go to +Him I will have no regrets an' no fears.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320223]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Ora M. Flagg"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>567</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>A SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ora M. Flagg</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> + +<h4>ORA M. FLAGG</h4> + +<h5>811 Oberlin Road</h5> + +<p>My name is Ora M. Flagg. I wus born in Raleigh near the Professional Building, +in the year 1860, October 16. My mother wus named Jane Busbee. Her marster wus +Quent Busbee, a lawyer. Her missus wus Julia Busbee. She wus a Taylor before she +married Mr. Busbee. Now I tell you, I can't tell you exactly, but the old heads +died. The old heads were the Scurlocks who lived in Chatham County. I heard their +names but I don't remember them. Their children when they died drawed for the +slaves and my mother wus brought to Raleigh when she wus eight years old. She +came from the Scurlocks to the Busbees. The Taylors were relatives of the +Scurlocks, and were allowed to draw, and Julia Taylor drawed my mother. It wus +fixed so the slaves on this estate could not be sold, but could be drawed for by +the family and relatives. She got along just middlin' after her missus died. When +her missus died, mother said she had to look after herself. Mr. Busbee would not +allow anyone to whip mother. He married Miss Lizzie Bledsoe the second time.</p> + +<p>I wus only a child and, of course, I thought as I could get a little something +to eat everything wus all right, but we had few comforts. We had prayer meeting +and we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> went to the white people's church. I heard mother say that they had to be very +careful what they said in their worship. Lots of time dey put us children to bed +and went off.</p> + +<p>About the time of the surrender, I heard a lot about the patterollers, but I +did not know what they were. Children wus not as wise then as they are now. They +didn't know as much about things.</p> + +<p>Yes sir, I remember the Yankees coming to Raleigh, we had been taken out to +Moses Bledsoe's place on Holleman's Road to protect Mr. Bledsoe's things. They +said if they put the things out there, and put a family of Negroes there the +Yankees would not bother the things. So they stored a lot of stuff there, and put +my mother an' a slave man by the name o' Tom Gillmore there. Two Negro families +were there. We children watched the Yankees march by.</p> + +<p>The Yankees went through everything, and when mother wouldn't tell them where +the silver wus hid they threw her things in the well. Mother cried, an' when the +Yankee officers heard of it they sent a guard there to protect us. The colored +man, Tom Gillmore, wus so scared, he and his family moved out at night leaving my +mother alone with her family. The Yankees ate the preserves and all the meat and +other things. They destroyed a lot they could not eat.</p> + +<p>Mother and me stayed on with marster after the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> surrender, and stayed on his +place till he died. After that we moved to Peck's Place, called Peck's Place +because the property wus sold by Louis Peck. It wus also called the 'Save-rent' +section, then in later years Oberlin Road.</p> + +<p>I think slavery wus a bad thing, while it had its good points in building good +strong men. In some cases where marsters were bad it wus a bad thing.</p> + +<p>Abraham Lincoln wus our friend, he set us free. I don't know much about Booker +T. Washington. Mr Roosevelt is all right. Jim Young seemed to be all right. Jeff +Davis didn't bother me. I guess he wus all right.</p> + +<p><small>EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320214]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Analiza Foster."> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>361</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Analiza Foster.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Analiza Foster, 68 of 1120 South Blount Street, Raleigh, +North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I wuz borned in Person County ter Tom Line an' Harriet Cash. My mammy belonged +ter a Mr. Cash an' pappy belonged ter Miss Betsy Woods. Both of dese owners wuz +mean ter dere slaves an' dey ain't carin' much if'en dey kills one, case dey's +got plenty. Dar wuz one woman dat I hyard mammy tell of bein' beat clean ter +death.</p> + +<p>De 'oman wuz pregnant an' she fainted in de fiel' at de plow. De driver said +dat she wuz puttin' on, an' dat she ort ter be beat. De master said dat she can +be beat but don't ter hurt de baby. De driver says dat he won't, den he digs a +hole in de sand an' he puts de 'oman in de hole, which am nigh 'bout ter her arm +pits, den he kivers her up an' straps her han's over her haid.</p> + +<p>He takes de long bull whup an' he cuts long gashes all over her shoulders an' +raised arms, den he walks off an' leabes her dar fer a hour in de hot sun. De +flies an' de gnats dey worry her, an' de sun hurts too an' she cries<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> a little, +den de driver comes out wid a pan full of vinegar, salt an' red pepper an' he +washes de gashes. De 'oman faints an' he digs her up, but in a few minutes she am +stone dead.</p> + +<p>Dat's de wust case dat I'se eber hyard of but I reckon dar wuz plenty more of +dem.</p> + +<p>Ter show yo' de value of slaves I'll tell yo' 'bout my gran'ma. She wuz sold +on de block four times, an' eber time she brung a thousand dollars. She wuz +valuable case she wuz strong an' could plow day by day, den too she could have +twenty chilluns an' wuck right on.</p> + +<p>De Yankees come through our country an' dey makes de slaves draw water fer de +horses all night. Course dey stold eber'thing dey got dere han's on but dat wuz +what ole Abraham Lincoln tol' dem ter do.</p> + +<p><small>MH:EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320088]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Georginna Foster"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>570</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>A SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Georginna Foster</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>George L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 23 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> + +<h4>GEORGIANNA FOSTER</h4> + +<h5>1308 Poole Road, Route # 2. Raleigh, North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I wus born in 1861. I jes' can 'member de Yankees comin' through, but I +'members dere wus a lot of 'em wearin' blue clothes. I wus born at Kerney +Upchurch's plantation twelve miles from Raleigh. He wus my marster an' Missus +Enny wus his wife. My father wus named Axiom Wilder and my mother wus Mancy +Wilder. De most I know 'bout slavery dey tole it to me. I 'members I run when de +Yankees come close to me. I wus 'fraid of 'em.</p> + +<p>We lived in a little log houses at marsters. De food wus short an' things in +general wus bad, so mother tole me. She said dey wus a whole lot meaner den dey +had any business bein'. Dey allowed de patterollers to snoop around an' whup de +slaves, mother said dey stripped some of de slaves naked an' whupped 'em. She +said women had to work all day in de fields an' come home an' do de house work at +night while de white folks hardly done a han's turn of work.</p> + +<p>Marse Kerney had a sluice of chilluns. I can't think of 'em all, but I +'members Calvin, James, Allen, Emily, Helen, an' I jest can't think of de rest of +de chilluns names.</p> + +<p>Mother said dey gathered slaves together like dey did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> horses an' sold 'em on de +block. Mother said dey carried some to Rolesville in Wake County an' sold 'em. +Dey sold Henry Temples an' Lucinda Upchurch from marster's plantation, but dey +carried 'em to Raleigh to sell 'em.</p> + +<p>We wore homemade clothes an' shoes wid wooden bottoms. Dey would not allow us +to sing an' pray but dey turned pots down at de door an' sung an' prayed enyhow +an' de Lord heard dere prayers. Dat dey did sing an' pray.</p> + +<p>Mother said dey whupped a slave if dey caught him wid a book in his hand. You +wus not 'lowed no books. Larnin' among de slaves wus a forbidden thing. Dey wus +not allowed to cook anything for demselves at de cabins no time 'cept night. Dere +wus a cook who cooked fur all durin' de day. Sometimes de field han's had to work +'round de place at night after comin' in from de fields. Mother said livin' at +marster's wus hard an' when dey set us free we left as quick as we could an' went +to Mr. Bob Perry's plantation an' stayed there many years. He wus a good man an' +give us all a chance. Mother wus free born at Upchurch's but when de war ended, +she had been bound to Wilder by her mother, an' had married my father who wus a +slave belongin' to Bob Wilder. Dey did not like de fare at Marster Upchurch's or +Marster Wilder's, so when dey wus set free dey lef' an' went to Mrs. Perry's +place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dey had overseers on both plantations in slavery time but some of de niggers +would run away before dey would take a whuppin'. Fred Perry run away to keep from +bein' sold. He come back do' an' tole his marster to do what he wanted to wid +him. His marster told him to go to work an' he stayed dere till he wus set free. +God heard his prayer 'cause he said he axed God not to let him be sold.</p> + +<p>Mother an' father said Abraham Lincoln come through there on his way to Jeff +Davis. Jeff Davis wus de Southern President. Lincoln say, 'Turn dem slaves loose, +Jeff Davis,' an' Jeff Davis said nuthin'. Den he come de second time an' say, 'Is +you gwine to turn dem slaves loose?' an' Jeff Davis wouldn't do it. Den Lincoln +come a third time an' had a cannon shootin' man wid him an' he axed, 'Is you +gwine to set dem slaves free Jeff Davis?' An' Jeff Davis he say, 'Abraham +Lincoln, you knows I is not goin' to give up my property, an' den Lincoln said, +'I jest as well go back an' git up my crowd den.' Dey talked down in South +Carolina an' when Jeff Davis 'fused to set us free, Lincoln went home to the +North and got up his crowd, one hundred an' forty thousand men, dey said, an' de +war begun. Dey fighted an' fighted an' de Yankees whupped. Dey set us free an' +dey say dat dey hung Jeff Davis on a ole apple tree.</p> + +<p>EH <span class="hw" title="HW notes in margin:—illegible">HW</span></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320247]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Frank Freeman"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>815</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>FRANK FREEMAN</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Frank Freeman</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> + +<h4>FRANK FREEMAN</h4> + +<h5>216 Tappers Lane</h5> + +<p>I was born near Rolesville in Wake County Christmas Eve, 24 of December 1857. +I am 76 years old. My name is Frank Freeman and my wife's name is Mary Freeman. +She is 78 years old. We live at 216 Tuppers Lane, Raleigh, Wake County, North +Carolina. I belonged to ole man Jim Wiggins jus' this side o' Roseville, fourteen +miles from Raleigh. The great house is standin' there now, and a family by the +name o' Gill, a colored man's family, lives there. The place is owned by ole man +Jim Wiggins's grandson, whose name is O. B. Wiggins. My wife belonged to the +Terrells before the surrender. I married after the war. I was forty years ole +when I was married.</p> + +<p>Old man Jim Wiggins was good to his niggers, and when the slave children were +taken off by his children they treated us good. Missus dressed mother up in her +clothes and let her go to church. We had good, well cooked food, good clothes, +and good places to sleep. Some of the chimneys which were once attached to the +slave houses are standing on the plantation. The home plantation in Wake County +was 3000 acres.</p> + +<p>Marster also owned three and a quarter plantations in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> Franklin County. He kept about +ten men at home and would not let his slave boys work until they were 18 years +old, except tend to horses and do light jobs around the house. He had slaves on +all his plantations but they were under colored overseers who were slaves +themselves. Marster had three boys and five girls, eight children of his own.</p> + +<p>One of the girls was Siddie Wiggins. When she married Alfred Holland, and they +went to Smithfield to live she took me with her, when I was two years old. She +thought so much o' me mother was willing to let me go. Mother loved Miss Siddie, +and it was agreeable in the family. I stayed right on with her after the +surrender three years until 1868. My father decided to take me home then and went +after me.</p> + +<p>They never taught us books of any kind. I was about 8 years old when I began +to study books. When I was 21 Christmas Eve 1880, father told me I was my own man +and that was all he had to give me.</p> + +<p>I had decided many years before to save all my nickles. I kept them in a bag. +I did not drink, chew, smoke or use tobacco in any way during this time. When he +told me I was free I counted up my money and found I had $47.75. I had never up +to this tasted liquor or tobacco. I don't know anything about it yet. I have +never used it. With that money I entered Shaw University. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> worked eight +hours a week in order to help pay my way.</p> + +<p>Later I went into public service, teaching four months a year in the public +schools. My salary was $25.00 per month. I kept going to school at Shaw until I +could get a first grade teacher's certificate. I never graduated. I taught in the +public schools for 43 years. I would be teaching now, but I have high blood +pressure.</p> + +<p>I was at Master Hollands at Smithfield when the Yankees came through. They +went into my Marster's store and began breaking up things and taking what they +wanted. They were dressed in blue and I did not know who they were. I asked and +someone told me they were the Yankees.</p> + +<p>My father was named Burton, and my mother was named Queen Anne. Father was a +Freeman and mother was a Wiggins.</p> + +<p>There were no churches on the plantation. My father told me a story about his +young master, Joe Freeman and my father's brother Soloman. Marster got Soloman to +help whip him. My father went in to see young Missus and told her about it, and +let her know he was going away. He had got the cradle blade and said he would +kill either of them if they bothered him. Father had so much Indian blood in him +that he would fight. He ran away and stayed four years and passed for a free +nigger. He stayed in the Bancomb Settlement in Johnson County. When he came home +before the war ended, Old Marster said, 'Soloman why didn't you stay?' father +said, 'I have been off long enough'.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> Marster said 'Go to work', and there was no +more to it. Father helped build the breastworks in the Eastern part of the State +down at Ft. Fisher. He worked on the forts at New Bern too.</p> + +<p>I think Abraham Lincoln worked hard for our freedom. He was a great man. I +think Mr. Roosevelt is a good man and is doing all he can for the good of +all.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320010]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Addy Gill"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>976</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>ADDY GILL</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Addy Gill</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"SEP 10 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> + +<h4>ADDY GILL</h4> + +<h5>1614 "B" St. Lincoln Park Raleigh, North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I am seventy four years of age. I wus born a slave Jan. 6, 1863 on a +plantation near Millburnie, Wake County, owned by Major Wilder, who hired my +father's time. His wife wus named Sarah Wilder. I don't know anything 'bout +slavery 'cept what wus tole me by father and mother but I do know that if it had +not been for what de southern white folks done for us niggers we'd have perished +to death. De north turned us out wid out anything to make a livin' wid.</p> + +<p>My father wus David Gill and, my mother wus Emily Gill. My father wus a +blacksmith an he moved from place to place where dey hired his time. Dats why I +wus born on Major Wilders place. Marster Gill who owned us hired father to Major +Wilder and mother moved wid him. For a longtime atter de war, nine years, we +stayed on wid Major Wilder, de place we wus at when dey set us free.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder had a large plantation and owned a large number of slaves before de +surrender. I only 'members fourteen of de ones I know belonged to him. Mr. Wilder +wus a mighty good man. We had plenty to eat an plenty work to do. Dere wus seven +in the Major's family. Three boys, two girls, he an his wife. His boys wus named +Sam, Will and Crockett.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> De girls wus named Florence and Flora. Dey are all dead, every +one of 'em. De whole set. I don't know nary one of 'em dats livin. If dey wus +livin I could go to 'em an' git a meal any time. Yes Sir! any time, day or +night.</p> + +<p>I farmed for a long time for myself atter I wus free from my father at 21 +years of age. Den 'bout twelve years ago I come to Raleigh and got a job as +butler at St. Augustine Episcopal College for Colored. I worked dere eight years, +wus taken sick while workin dere an has been unable to work much since. Dat wus +four years ago. Since den sometimes I ain't able to git up outen my cheer when I +is settin down. I tells you, mister, when a nigger leaves de farm an comes to +town to live he sho is takin a mighty big chance wid de wolf. He is just a riskin +parishin, dats what he is a doin.</p> + +<p>I married forty five years ago this past November. I wus married on de second +Thursday night in November to Millie Ruffin of Wake County, North Carolina. We +had leben chilluns, six boys an five gals. Four of the boys an one of de gals is +livin now. Some of my chilluns went north but dey didn't stay dere but two +months. De one dat went north wus Sam, dat wus de oldest one. He took a notion to +marry so he went up to Pennsylvania and worked. Just as soon as he got enough +money to marry on he come back an got married. He never went back north no +more.</p> + +<p>Mother belonged to Sam Krenshaw before she wus bought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> by Marster Gill. Her missus +when she was a girl growin up wus Mrs. Louise Krenshaw. De missus done de whuppin +on Mr. Krenshaw's plantation an she wus mighty rough at times. She whupped mother +an cut her back to pieces so bad dat de scars wus on her when she died. Father +died in Raleigh an mother died out on Miss Annie Ball's farm 'bout seven miles +from Raleigh. Mother an father wus livin there when mother died. Father den come +to Raleigh an died here.</p> + +<p>I caint read an write but all my chilluns can read and write. Mother and +father could not read or write. I haint had no chance. I had no larnin. I had to +depend on white folks I farmed wid to look atter my business. Some of em cheated +me out of what I made. I am tellin you de truth 'bout some of de landlords, dey +got mighty nigh all I made. Mr. Richard Taylor who owned a farm near Raleigh whur +I stayed two years wus one of em. He charged de same thing three times an I had +it to pay. I stayed two years an made nothin'. Dis is de truth from my heart, +from here to glory. I members payin' fur a middlin of meat twice. Some of de +white folks looked out fur me an prospered. Mr. Dave Faulk wus one of 'em. I +stayed wid him six years and I prospered. Mr. John Bushnell wus a man who took up +no time wid niggers. I rented from him a long time.</p> + +<p>He furnished a nigger cash to run his crap on. De nigger made de crap sold it +an carried him his part. He figgered 'bout what he should have an de nigger paid +in cash. He wus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> a mighty good man to his nigger tenants. I never owned a farm, I +never owned horses or mules to farm with. I worked de landlords stock and farmed +his land on shares. Farmin' has been my happiest life and I wushes I wus able to +farm agin cause I am happiest when on de farm.</p> + +<p>I had a quiet home weddin' an I wus married by a white magistrate. I got up +one night an' wus married at 1 o'clock.</p> + +<p>Atter de weddin she went back home wid me. We have had our ups and downs in +life. Sometimes de livin' has been mighty hard, but dere has never been a time +since I been free when I could not git a handout from de white folks back +yard.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320020]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Robert Glenn"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>2,118</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>A SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Robert Glenn</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>George L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"SEP 10 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> + +<h4>ROBERT GLENN</h4> + +<h5>207 Idlewild Avenue Raleigh, North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I was a slave before and during the Civil War. I am 87 years old. I was born +Sept. 16, 1850. I was born in Orange County, North Carolina near Hillsboro. At +that time Durham was just a platform at the station and no house there whatever. +The platform was lighted with a contraption shaped like a basket and burning coal +that gave off a blaze. There were holes in this metal basket for the cinders to +fall through.</p> + +<p>I belonged to a man named Bob Hall, he was a widower. He had three sons, +Thomas, Nelson, and Lambert. He died when I was eight years old and I was put on +the block and sold in Nelson Hall's yard by the son of Bob Hall. I saw my brother +and sister sold on this same plantation. My mother belonged to the Halls, and +father belonged to the Glenns. They sold me away from my father and mother and I +was carried to the state of Kentucky. I was bought by a Negro speculator by the +name of Henry long who lived not far from Hurdles Mill in Person County. I was +not allowed to tell my mother and father goodbye. I was bought and sold three +times in one day.</p> + +<p>My father's time was hired out and as he knew a trade he had by working +overtime saved up a considerable amount of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> money. After the speculator, +Henry Long, bought me, mother went to father and pled with him to buy me from him +and let the white folks hire me out. No slave could own a slave. Father got the +consent and help of his owners to buy me and they asked Long to put me on the +block again. Long did so and named his price but when he learned who had bid me +off he backed down. Later in the day he put me on the block and named another +price much higher than the price formerly set. He was asked by the white folks to +name his price for his bargain and he did so. I was again put on the auction +block and father bought me in, putting up the cash. Long then flew into a rage +and cursed my father saying, 'you damn black son of a bitch, you think you are +white do you? Now just to show you are black, I will not let you have your son at +any price.' Father knew it was all off, mother was frantic but there was nothing +they could do about it. They had to stand and see the speculator put me on his +horse behind him and ride away without allowing either of them to tell me +goodbye. I figure I was sold three times in one day, as the price asked was +offered in each instance. Mother was told under threat of a whupping not to make +any outcry when I was carried away. He took me to his home, but on the way he +stopped for refreshments, at a plantation, and while he was eating and drinking, +he put me into a room where two white women were spinning flax. I was given a +seat across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> room from where they were working. After I had sat there awhile +wondering where I was going and thinking about mother and home, I went to one of +the women and asked, 'Missus when will I see my mother again?' She replied, I +don't know child, go and sit down. I went back to my seat and as I did so both +the women stopped spinning for a moment, looked at each other, and one of them +remarked. "Almighty God, this slavery business is a horrible thing. Chances are +this boy will never see his mother again." This remark nearly killed me, as I +began to fully realize my situation. Long, the Negro trader, soon came back, put +me on his horse and finished the trip to his home. He kept me at his home awhile +and then traded me to a man named William Moore who lived in Person County. Moore +at this time was planning to move to Kentucky which he soon did, taking me with +him. My mother found out by the "Grapevine telegraph" that I was going to be +carried to Kentucky. She got permission and came to see me before they carried me +off. When she started home I was allowed to go part of the way with her but they +sent two Negro girls with us to insure my return. We were allowed to talk +privately, but while we were doing so, the two girls stood a short distance away +and watched as the marster told them when they left that if I escaped they would +be whipped every day until I was caught. When the time of parting came and I had +to turn back, I burst out crying loud. I was so weak from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> sorrow I could not walk, and +the two girls who were with me took me by each arm and led me along half carrying +me.</p> + +<p>This man Moore carried me and several other slaves to Kentucky. We traveled by +train by way of Nashville, Tenn. My thoughts are not familiar with the happenings +of this trip but I remember that we walked a long distance at one place on the +trip from one depot to another.</p> + +<p>We finally reached Kentucky and Moore stopped at his brother's plantation +until he could buy one, then we moved on it. My marster was named William Moore +and my missus was named Martha Whitfield Moore. It was a big plantation and he +hired a lot of help and had white tenants besides the land he worked with slaves. +There were only six slaves used as regular field hands during his first year in +Kentucky.</p> + +<p>The food was generally common. Hog meat and cornbread most all the time. +Slaves got biscuits only on Sunday morning. Our clothes were poor and I worked +barefooted most of the time, winter and summer. No books, papers or anything +concerning education was allowed the slaves by his rules and the customs of these +times.</p> + +<p>Marster Moore had four children among whom was one boy about my age. The girls +were named Atona, Beulah, and Minnie, and the boy was named Crosby. He was mighty +brilliant. We played together. He was the only white boy there, and he took a +great liking to me, and we loved each devotedly. Once in an undertone he asked me +how would I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> like to have an education. I was overjoyed at the suggestion and +he at once began to teach me secretly. I studied hard and he soon had me so I +could read and write well. I continued studying and he continued teaching me. He +furnished me books and slipped all the papers he could get to me and I was the +best educated Negro in the community without anyone except the slaves knowing +what was going on.</p> + +<p>All the slaves on marster's plantation lived the first year we spent in +Kentucky in a one room house with one fireplace. There was a dozen or more who +all lived in this one room house. Marster built himself a large house having +seven rooms. He worked his slaves himself and never had any overseers. We worked +from sun to sun in the fields and then worked at the house after getting in from +the fields as long as we could see. I have never seen a patteroller but when I +left the plantation in slavery time I got a pass. I have never seen a jail for +slaves but I have seen slaves whipped and I was whipped myself. I was whipped +particularly about a saddle I left out in the night after using it during the +day. My flesh was cut up so bad that the scars are on me to this day.</p> + +<p>We were not allowed to have prayer meetings, but we went to the white folks +church to services sometimes. There were no looms, mills, or shops on the +plantation at Marster Moore's. I kept the name of Glenn through all the years +as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> Marster Moore did not change his slaves names to his family name. My mother was +named Martha Glenn and father was named Bob Glenn.</p> + +<p>I was in the field when I first heard of the Civil War. The woman who looked +after Henry Hall and myself (both slaves) told me she heard marster say old +Abraham Lincoln was trying to free the niggers. Marster finally pulled me up and +went and joined the Confederate Army. Kentucky split and part joined the North +and part the South. The war news kept slipping through of success for first one +side then the other. Sometimes marster would come home, spend a few days and then +go again to the war. It seemed he influenced a lot of men to join the southern +army, among them was a man named Enoch Moorehead. Moorehead was killed in a few +days after he joined the southern army.</p> + +<p>Marster Moore fell out with a lot of his associates in the army and some of +them who were from the same community became his bitter enemies. Tom Foushee was +one of them. Marster became so alarmed over the threats on his life made by +Foushee and others that he was afraid to stay in his own home at night, and he +built a little camp one and one half miles from his home and he and missus spent +their nights there on his visits home. Foushee finally came to the great house +one night heavily armed, came right on into the house and inquired for marster. +We told him marster was away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> Foushee lay down on the floor and waited a long +time for him. Marster was at the little camp but we would not tell where he +was.</p> + +<p>Foushee left after spending most of the night at marster's. As he went out +into the yard, when leaving, marster's bull dog grawled at him and he shot him +dead.</p> + +<p>Marster went to Henderson, Kentucky, the County seat of Henderson County, and +surrendered to the Federal Army and took the Oath of Allegiance. Up to that time +I had seen a few Yankees. They stopped now and then at marster's and got their +breakfast. They always asked about buttermilk, they seemed to be very fond of it. +They were also fond of ham, but we had the ham meat buried in the ground, this +was about the close of the war. A big army of Yankees came through a few months +later and soon we heard of the surrender. A few days after this marster told me +to catch two horses that we had to go to Dickenson which was the County seat of +Webster County. On the way to Dickenson he said to me, 'Bob, did you know you are +free and Lincoln has freed you? You are as free as I am.' We went to the +Freedmen's Bureau and went into the office. A Yankee officer looked me over and +asked marster my name, and informed me I was free, and asked me whether or not I +wanted to keep living with Moore. I did not know what to do, so I told him yes. A +fixed price of seventy-five dollars and board was then set as the salary I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> should +receive per year for my work. The Yankees told me to let him know if I was not +paid as agreed.</p> + +<p>I went back home and stayed a year. During the year I hunted a lot at night +and thoroughly enjoyed being free. I took my freedom by degrees and remained +obedient and respectful, but still wondering and thinking of what the future held +for me. After I retired at night I made plan after plan and built aircastles as +to what I would do. At this time I formed a great attachment for the white man, +Mr. Atlas Chandler, with whom I hunted. He bought my part of the game we caught +and favored me in other ways. Mr. Chandler had a friend, Mr. Dewitt Yarborough, +who was an adventurer, and trader, and half brother to my ex-marster, Mr. Moore, +with whom I was then staying. He is responsible for me taking myself into my own +hands and getting out of feeling I was still under obligations to ask my marster +or missus when I desired to leave the premises. Mr. Yarborough's son was off at +school at a place called Kiloh, Kentucky, and he wanted to carry a horse to him +and also take along some other animals for trading purposes. He offered me a new +pair of pants to make the trip for him and I accepted the job. I delivered the +horse to his son and started for home. On the way back I ran into Uncle Squire +Yarborough who once belonged to Dewitt Yarborough. He persuaded me to go home +with him and go with him to a wedding in Union County, Kentucky. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> wedding was +twenty miles away and we walked the entire distance. It was a double wedding, two +couples were married. Georgianna Hawkins was married to George Ross and Steve +Carter married a woman whose name I do not remember. This was in the winter +during the Christmas Holidays and I stayed in the community until about the first +of January, then I went back home. I had been thinking for several days before I +went back home as to just what I must tell Mr. Moore and as to how he felt about +the matter, and what I would get when I got home. In my dilema I almost forgot I +was free.</p> + +<p>I got home at night and my mind and heart was full but I was surprised at the +way he treated me. He acted kind and asked me if I was going to stay with him +next year. I was pleased. I told him, yes sir! and then I lay down and went to +sleep. He had a boss man on his plantation then and next morning he called me, +but I just couldn't wake. I seemed to be in a trance or something, I had recently +lost so much sleep. He called me the second time and still I <ins class="edcorr" title="original read +di">did</ins> not get up. Then he came in and spanked my head. I jumped +up and went to work feeding the stock and splitting wood for the day's cooking +and fires. I then went in and ate my breakfast. Mr. Moore told me to hitch a team +of horses to a wagon and go to a neighbors five miles away for a load of hogs. I +refused to do so. They called me into the house and asked me what I was going to +do about it. I said I do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> not know. As I said that I stepped out of the +door and left. I went straight to the county seat and hired to Dr. George Rasby +in Webster County for one hundred dollars per year. I stayed there one year. I +got uneasy in Kentucky. The whites treated the blacks awful bad so I decided to +go to Illinois as I thought a Negro might have a better chance there, it being a +northern state. I was kindly treated and soon began to save money, but all +through the years there was a thought that haunted me in my dreams and in my +waking hours, and this thought was of my mother, whom I had not seen or heard of +in many years. Finally one cold morning in early December I made a vow that I was +going to North Carolina and see my mother if she was still living. I had plenty +of money for the trip. I wrote the postmaster in Roxboro, North Carolina, asking +him to inform my mother I was still living, and telling him the circumstances, +mailing a letter at the same time telling her I was still alive but saying +nothing of my intended visit to her. I left Illinois bound for North Carolina on +December 15th and in a few days I was at my mother's home. I tried to fool them. +There were two men with me and they called me by a ficticious name, but when I +shook my mother's hand I held it a little too long and she suspicioned something +still she held herself until she was more sure. When she got a chance she came to +me and said ain't you my child? Tell me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> ain't you my child whom I left on the road near +Mr. Moore's before the war? I broke down and began to cry. Mother nor father did +not know me, but mother suspicioned I was her child. Father had a few days +previously remarked that he did not want to die without seeing his son once more. +I could not find language to express my feeling. I did not know before I came +home whether my parents were dead or alive. This Christmas I spent in the county +and state of my birth and childhood; with mother, father and freedom was the +happiest period of my entire life, because those who were torn apart in bondage +and sorrow several years previous were now united in freedom and happiness.</p> + +<p><small>EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [ ]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="SARAH ANNE GREEN"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Travis Jordan</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>SARAH ANNE GREEN</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave, 78 Years</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Durham County</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> + +<h4>SARAH ANNE GREEN</h4> + +<h5>EX-SLAVE 78 YEARS</h5> + +<p>My mammy an' pappy wuz Anderson an' Hannah Watson. We fus' belonged to Marse +Billy an' Mis Roby Watson, but when Marse Billy's daughter, Mis' Susie ma'ied +young Marse Billy Headen, Ole Marse give her me, an' my mammy an' my pappy for er +weddin' gif'. So, I growed up as Sarah Anne Headen.</p> + +<p>My pappy had blue eyes. Dey wuz jus' like Marse Billy's eyes, kaze Ole Marse +wuz pappy's marster an' his pappy too. Ole Marse wuz called Hickory Billy, dey +called him dat kaze he chewed hickory bark. He wouldn' touch 'bacca, but he kept +er twis' of dis bark in his pocket mos' all de time. He would make us chillun go +down whare de niggers wuz splittin' rails an' peel dis bark off de logs befo' dey +wuz split. De stuff he chewed come off de log right under de bark. After dey'd +skin de logs we'd peel off dis hickory 'bacca in long strips an' make it up in +twis's for Ole Marse. It wuz yellah an' tas' sweet an' sappy, an' he'd chew an' +spit, an' chew an' spit. Mis' Roby wouldn' 'low no chewin' in de house, but Ole +Marse sho done some spittin' outside. He could stan' in de barn door an' spit +clear up in de lof'.</p> + +<p>Ole Marse an' Mis Roby lived on er big plantation near Goldston an' dey had +'bout three hundred slaves. Hannah, my mammy, wuz de head seamstress. She had to +'ten' to de makin' of all de slaves clothes. De niggers had good clothes. De +cloth wuz home woven in de weavin' room. Ten niggers didn' do nothin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> but weave, +but every slave had one Sunday dress a year made out of store bought cloth. Ole +Marse seed to dat. Ole Marse made de niggers go to chu'ch too. He had er meetin' +house on plantation an' every Sunday we wuz ma'ched to meetin'. Dey wuz preachin' +every other Sunday an' Sunday School every Sunday. Marse Billy an' Mis' Roby +teached de Sunday School, but dey didn' teach us to read an' write, no suh, dey +sho didn'. If dey'd see us wid er book dey'd whip us. Dey said niggers didn' need +no knowledge; dat dey mus' do what dey wuz tole to do. Marse Billy wuz er doctor +too. He doctored de slaves when dey got sick, an' if dey got bad off he sen' for +er sho nuff doctor an' paid de bills.</p> + +<p>Every Chris'mas Marse Billy give de niggers er big time. He called dem up to +de big house an' give dem er bag of candy, niggertoes, an' sugar plums, den he +say: 'Who wants er egg nog, boys?' All dem dat wants er dram hol' up dey han's.' +Yo' never seed such holdin' up of han's. I would hol' up mine too, an' Ole Marse +would look at me an say, 'Go 'way from hear, Sarah Anne, yo' too little to be +callin' for nog.' But he fill up de glass jus' de same an' put in er extra spoon +of sugar an' give it to me. Dat sho wuz good nog. 'Twuz all foamy wid whipped +cream an' rich wid eggs. Marse Billy an' Mis' Roby served it demselves from dey +Sunday cut glass nog bowl, an' it kept Estella an' Rosette busy fillin' it up. +Marse Billy wuz er good man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p> + +<p>When de war come on Marse Billy was too ole to go, but young Marse Billy an' +Marse Gaston went. Dey wuz Ole Marse's two boys. Young Marse Billy Headen, Mis' +Susie's husban' went too.</p> + +<p>De day Ole Marse heard dat de Yankees wuz comin' he took all de meat 'cept two +or three pieces out of de smoke house, den he got de silver an' things an' toted +dem to de wood pile. He dug er hole an' buried dem, den he covered de place wid +chips, but wid dat he wuzn' satisfied, so he made pappy bring er load of wood an' +throw it on top of it, so when de Yankees come dey didn' fin' it.</p> + +<p>When de Yankees come up in de yard Marse Billy took Mis' Roby an' locked her +up in dey room, den he walk 'roun' an' watched de Yankees, but dey toted off what +dey wanted. I wuzn' skeered of de Yankees; I thought dey wuz pretty mens in dey +blue coats an' brass buttons. I followed dem all 'roun' beggin' for dey coat +buttons. I ain't never seed nothin' as pretty as dem buttons. When dey lef' I +followed dem way down de road still beggin', 'twell one of dem Yankees pull off +er button an' give it to me. 'Hear, Nigger,' he say, 'take dis button. I's givin' +it to you kaze yo's got blue eyes. I ain't never seed blue eyes in er black face +befo'.' I had blue eyes like pappy an' Marse Billy, an' I kept dat Yankee button +'twell I wuz ma'ied, den I los' it.</p> + +<p>De wus' thing I know dat happened, in de war wuz when Mis' Roby foun' de +Yankee sojer in de ladies back house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p> + +<p>Down at de back of de garden behin' de row of lilac bushes wuz de two back +houses, one for de mens an' one for de ladies. Mis' Roby went down to dis house +one day, an' when she opened de door, dare lay er Yankee sojer on de floor. His +head wuz tied up wid er bloody rag an' he look like he wuz dead.</p> + +<p>Mammy say she seed Mis' Roby when she come out. She looked skeered but she +didn' scream nor nothin'. When she seed mammy she motioned to her. She tole her +'bout de Yankee. 'He's jus' er boy, Hannah,' she say, 'he ain't no older den +Marse Gaston, an' he's hurt. We got to do somethin' an' we can't tell nobody.' +Den she sen' mammy to de house for er pan of hot water, de scissors an' er ole +sheet. Mis' Roby cut off de bloody ran an' wash dat sojer boy's head den she tied +up de cut places. Den she went to de house an' made mammy slip him er big milk +toddy. 'Bout dat time she seed some ho'seman comin' down de road. When dey got +closer she seed dey wuz 'Federate sojers. Dey rode up in de yard an' Marse Billy +went out to meet dem. Dey tole him dat dey wuz lookin' for er Yankee prisoner dat +done got away from dey camp.</p> + +<p>After Ole Marse tole dem dat he ain't seed no Yankee sojer, dey tole him dat +dey got to search de place kaze dat wuz orders.</p> + +<p>When Mis Roby heard dem say dat she turned an' went through de house to do +back yard. She walk 'roun' 'mong de flowers, but all de time she watchin' dem +'Federates search de barns, stables, an' everywhare. But, when dey start to de +lilac bushes, Mis'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> Roby lif' her head an' walk right down de paf to de ladies back +house, an' right befo' all dem mens, wid dem lookin' at her, she opened de door +an' walk in. She sholy did.</p> + +<p>Dat night when 'twuz dark Mis' Roby wrap' up er passel of food an' er bottle +of brandy an' give it to dat sojer Yankee boy. She tole him dey wuz ho'ses in de +paster an' dat de Yankee camp wuz over near Laurinburg or somewhare like dat.</p> + +<p>Nobody ain't seed dat boy since, but somehow dat ho'se come back an' in his +mane wuz er piece of paper. Marse Billy foun' it an' brung it to Mis' Roby an' ax +her what it meant.</p> + +<p>Mis' Roby took it an' 'twuz er letter dat sojer boy done wrote tellin' her dat +he wuz safe an' thankin' her for what she done for him.</p> + +<p>Mis' Roby tole Marse Billy she couldn' help savin' dat Yankee, he too much of +er boy.</p> + +<p>Marse Billy he look at Mis' Roby, den he say: 'Roby, honey, yo's braver den +any sojer I ever seed.'</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320356]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Dorcas Griffeth"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>624</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>DORCAS GRIFFETH</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Dorcas Griffeth</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 26 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> + +<h4>DORCAS GRIFFETH</h4> + +<h5>602 E. South Street</h5> + +<p>You know me every time you sees me don't you? Who tole you I wus Dorcas +Griffith? I seed you up town de other day. Yes, yes, I is old. I is 80 years old. +I remember all about dem Yankees. The first biscuit I ever et dey give it to me. +I wus big enough to nus de babies when de Yankees came through. Dey carried +biscuits on dere horses, I wus jist thinkin' of my young missus de other day. I +belonged to Doctor Clark in Chatham County near Pittsboro. My father wus named +Billy Dismith, and my mother wus named Peggy Council. She belonged to the +Councils. Father, belonged to the Dismiths and I belonged to the Clarks. Missus +wus named Winnie. Dey had tolerable fine food for de white folks, but I did not +get any of it. De food dey give us wus mighty nigh nuthin'. Our clothes wus bad +and our sleepin' places wus not nuthin' at all. We had a hard time. We had a hard +time then and we are havin' a hard time now. We have a house to live in now, and +de chinches eat us up almos, and we have nuthin' to live on now, jist a little +from charity. I fares mighty bad. Dey gives me a half peck of meal and a pound o' +meat, a little oat meal, and canned grape juice, a half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> pound o' coffee and no sugar or +lard and no flour. Dey gives us dat for a week's eatin'.</p> + +<p>De Yankees called de niggers who wus plowin' de mules when dey came through +an' made 'em bring 'em to 'em an' dey carried de mules on wid em. De niggers +called de Yankees Blue Jackets.</p> + +<p>I had two brothers, both older dan me. George de oldest and Jack. Let me see I +had four sisters 1, 2, 3, 4; one wus named Annie, one named Rosa, Annie, and +Francis and myself Dorcas. All de games I played wus de wurk in de field wid a +hoe. Dere wus no playgrounds like we has now. No, no, if you got your work done +you done enough. If I could see how to write like you I could do a lot o' work +but I can't see. I kin write. I got a good education acording to readin', +spellin, and writin'. I kin say de 2nd chapter of Matthey by heart, the 27 +chapter of Ezelial by heart, or most of Ezekial by heart.</p> + +<p>I learned it since I got free. I went to school in Raleigh to de Washington +School. Dey wouldn't let us have books when I wus a slave. I wus afraid ter be +caught wid a book. De patterollers scared us so bad in slavery time and beat so +many uv de slaves dat we lef' de plantation jus' as soon as we wus free. Dat's de +reason father lef' de plantation so quick. I also remember de Ku Klux. I wus +afraid o' dem, and I did not think much of 'em. I saw slaves whupped till de +blood run down dere backs. Once dey whupped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> some on de plantation and den +put salt on de places and pepper on 'em. I didn't think nuthin in de world o' +slavery. I think de it wus wrong. I didn't think a thing o' slavery.</p> + +<p>All my people are dead, and I am unable to work. I haven't been able to work +in six years. I thought Abraham Lincoln wus a good man. He had a good name.</p> + +<p>I don't know much about Mr. Roosevelt but I hopes he will help me, cause I +need it mighty bad.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320005]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Sarah Gudger"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Sarah Gudger</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Sarah Gudger</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<ins class="mycorr"><small>TR: Added Header Page</small></ins> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 224px;"> +<img src="images/s_gudger.jpg" width="224" height="300" alt="s_gudger" title="Sarah Gudger" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> + + +<h4>SARAH GUDGER</h4> + +<h5>Ex-slave, 121 years</h5> + +<p>Investigation of the almost incredible claim of Aunt Sarah Gudger, ex-slave +living in Asheville, that she was born on Sept. 15, 1816, discloses some factual +information corroborating her statements.</p> + +<p>Aunt Sarah's father, Smart Gudger, belonged to and took his family name from +Joe Gudger, who lived near Oteen, about six miles east of Asheville in the +Swannanoa valley, prior to the War Between the States. Family records show that +Joe Gudger married a Miss McRae in 1817, and that while in a despondent mood he +ended his own life by hanging, as vividly recounted by the former slave.</p> + +<p>John Hemphill, member of the family served by Aunt Sarah until "freedom," is +recalled as being "a few y'ars younge' as me," and indeed his birth is recorded +for 1822. Alexander Hemphill, mentioned by Aunt Sarah as having left to join the +Confederate army when about 25 years of age, is authentic and his approximate age +in 1861 tallies with that recalled by the ex-slave. When Alexander went off to +the war Aunt Sarah was "gettin' t' be an ol' woman."</p> + +<p>Aunt Sarah lives with distant cousins in a two-story frame house, comfortably +furnished, at 8 Dalton street in South Asheville (the Negro section lying north +of Kenilworth). A distant male relative, 72 years of age, said he has known Aunt +Sarah all his life and that she was an old woman when he was a small boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> Small in +stature, about five feet tall, Aunt Sarah is rathered rounded in face and body. +Her milk-chocolate face is surmounted by short, sparse hair, almost milk white. +She is somewhat deaf but understands questions asked her, responding with +animation. She walks with one crutch, being lame in the right leg. On events of +the long ago her mind is quite clear. Recalling the Confederate "sojers, +marchin', marchin'" to the drums, she beat a tempo on the floor with her crutch. +As she described how the hands of slaves were tied before they were whipped for +infractions she crossed her wrists.</p> + +<p>Owen Gudger, Asheville postmaster (1913-21), member of the Buncombe County +Historical Association, now engaged in the real estate business, says he has been +acquainted with Aunt Sarah all his life; that he has, on several occasions, +talked to her about her age and early associations, and that her responses +concerning members of the Gudger and Hemphill families coincide with known facts +of the two families.</p> + +<p>Interviewed by a member of the Federal Writers' Project, Aunt Sarah seemed +eager to talk, and needed but little prompting.</p> + +<h4>SARAH GUDGER</h4> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> + +<h5>(born September 15, 1816)<br /> +Interview with Mrs. Marjorie Jones, May 5, 1937</h5> + +<p>I wah bo'n 'bout two mile fum Ole Fo't on de Ole Mo'ganton Road. I sho' has +had a ha'd life. Jes wok, an' wok, an' wok. I nebbah know nothin' but wok. Mah +boss he wah Ole Man Andy Hemphill. He had a la'ge plantation in de valley. Plenty +ob ebbathin'. All kine ob stock: hawgs, cows, mules, an' hosses. When Marse Andy +die I go lib wif he son, William Hemphill.</p> + +<p>I nebbah fo'git when Marse Andy die. He wah a good ole man, and de Missie she +wah good, too. She usta read de Bible t' us chillun afoah she pass away.</p> + +<p>Mah pappy, he lib wif Joe Gudgah (Gudger). He ole an' feeble, I 'membahs. He +'pend on mah pappy t' see aftah ebbathin' foah him. He allus trust mah pappy. One +mo'nin' he follah pappy to de field. Pappy he stop hes wok and ole Marse Joe, he +say: "Well, Smart (pappy, he name Smart), I's tard, wurried, an' trubble'. All +dese yeahs I wok foah mah chillun. Dey nevah do de right thing. Dey wurries me, +Smart. I tell yo', Smart, I's a good mind t' put mahself away. I's good mind t' +drown mahself right heah. I tebble wurried, Smart."</p> + +<p>Pappy he take hole Ole Marse Joe an' lead him t' de house. "Now Marse Joe, I +wudden talk sich talk effen I's yo'. Yo' ben good t' yo' fambly. Jest yo' content +yo'self an' rest."</p> + +<p>But a few days aftah dat, Ole Marse Joe wah found ahangin' in de ba'n by de +bridle. Ole Marse had put heself away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p> + +<p>No'm, I nebbah knowed whut it wah t' rest. I jes wok all de time f'om mawnin' +till late at night. I had t' do ebbathin' dey wah t' do on de outside. Wok in de +field, chop wood, hoe cawn, till sometime I feels lak mah back sholy break. I +done ebbathin' 'cept split rails. Yo' know, dey split rails back in dem days. +Well, I nevah did split no rails.</p> + +<p>Ole Marse strop us good effen we did anythin' he didn' lak. Sometime he get +hes dandah up an' den we dassent look roun' at him. Else he tie yo' hands afoah +yo' body an' whup yo', jes lak yo' a mule. Lawdy, honey, I's tuk a thousand +lashins in mah day. Sometimes mah poah ole body be soah foah a week.</p> + +<p>Ole Boss he send us niggahs out in any kine ob weathah, rain o' snow, it +nebbah mattah. We had t' go t' de mountings, cut wood an' drag it down t' de +house. Many de time we come in wif ouh cloes stuck t' ouh poah ole cold bodies, +but 'twarn't no use t' try t' git 'em dry. Ef de Ole Boss o' de Ole Missie see us +dey yell: "Git on out ob heah yo' black thin', an' git yo' wok outen de way!" An' +Lawdy, honey, we knowed t' git, else we git de lash. Dey did'n cah how ole o' how +young yo' wah, yo' nebbah too big t' git de lash.</p> + +<p>De rich white folks nebbah did no wok; dey had da'kies t' do it foah dem. In +de summah we had t' wok outdoo's, in de wintah in de house. I had t' ceard an' +spin till ten o'clock. Nebbah git much rest, had t' git up at foah de nex' +mawnin' an' sta't agin. Didn' get much t' eat, nuthah, jes a lil' cawn bread an' +'lasses. Lawdy, honey, yo' caint know whut a time I had. All cold n' hungry. +No'm, I aint tellin' no lies. It de gospel truf. It sho is.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span></p> + +<p>I 'membah well how I use t' lie 'wake till all de folks wah sleepin', den +creep outen de do' and walk barfoot in de snow, 'bout two mile t' mah ole +Auntie's house. I knowed when I git dar she fix hot cawn pone wif slice o' meat +an' some milk foah me t' eat. Auntie wah good t' us da'kies.</p> + +<p>I nebbah sleep on a bedstead till aftah freedom, no'm till <ins +class="edcorr" title="HW: asterisk">aftah</ins> freedom. Jes' an ole pile o' rags in de +conah. Ha'dly 'nuf t' keep us from freezin'. Law, chile, nobuddy knows how mean +da'kies wah treated. Wy, dey wah bettah t' de animals den t' us'ns. Mah fust Ole +Marse wah a good ole man, but de las'n, he wah rapid—- he sho wah rapid. +Wy, chile, times aint no mo' lak dey usta be den de day an' night am lak. In mah +day an' time all de folks woked. Effen dey had no niggahs dey woked demselves. +Effen de chillun wah too small tuh hoe, dey pull weeds. Now de big bottom ob de +Swannano (Swannanoa) dat usta grow hunners bushels ob grain am jest a playgroun'. +I lak t' see de chillun in de field. Wy, now dey fight yo' lak wilecat effen it +ebben talked 'bout. Dat's de reason times so ha'd. No fahmin'. Wy, I c'n 'membah +Ole Missie she say: "Dis gene'ation'll pass away an' a new gene'ation'll cum +'long." Dat's jes' it—ebbah gene'ation gits weakah an' weakah. Den dey talk +'bout goin' back t' ole times. Dat time done gone, dey nebbah meet dat time +agin.</p> + +<p>Wahn't none o' de slaves offen ouh plantation ebbah sold, but de ones on de +othah plantation ob Marse William wah. Oh, dat wah a tebble time! All de slaves +be in de field, plowin', hoein', singin' in de boilin' sun. Ole Marse he cum t'ru +de field wif a man call de specalater. Day walk round jes' lookin', +jes'lookin',<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> All de da'kies know whut dis mean. Dey didn' dare look up, jes' +wok right on. Den de specalater he see who he want. He talk to Ole Marse, den dey +slaps de han'cuffs on him an' tak him away to de cotton country. Oh, dem wah +awful times! When de specalater wah ready to go wif de slaves, effen dey wha enny +whu didn' wanta go, he thrash em, den tie em 'hind de waggin an' mek em run till +dey fall on de groun', den he thrash em till dey say dey go 'thout no trubble. +Sometime some of dem run 'way an cum back t' de plantation, den it wah hardah on +dem den befoah. When de da'kies wen' t' dinnah de ole niggah mammy she say whar +am sich an' sich. None ob de othahs wanna tell huh. But when she see dem look +down to de groun' she jes' say: "De specalater, de specalater." Den de teahs roll +down huh cheeks, cause mebbe it huh son o' husban' an' she know she nebbah see +'em agin. Mebbe dey leaves babies t' home, mebbe jes' pappy an' mammy. Oh, mah +Lawdy, mah ole Boss wah mean, but he nebbah sen' us to de cotton country.</p> + +<p>Dey wah ve'y few skules back in day day an time, ve'y few. We da'kies didn' +dah look at no book, not ebben t' pick it up. Ole Missie, dat is, mah firs' Ole +Missie, she wah a good ole woman. She read to de niggahs and t' de white chillun. +She cum fum cross de watah. She wahn't lak de sma't white folks livin' heah now. +When she come ovah heah she brung darky boy wif huh. He wah huh pussonal su'vant. +Co'se, dey got diffent names foah dem now, but in dat day dey calls 'em ginney +niggahs. She wah good ole woman, not lak othah white folks. Niggahs lak Ole +Missie.</p> + +<p>When de da'kies git sick, dey wah put in a lil' ole house close t' de big +house, an' one of the othah da'kies waited on 'em.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> Dey wah ve'y few doctahs den. +Ony three in de whole section. When dey wanted med'cine dey went t' de woods an' +gathahed hoahhound, slipperelm foah poltices an' all kinds ba'k foah teas. All +dis yarbs bring yo' round. Dey wah ve'y few lawyers den too, but lawsy me, yo' +cain't turn round fer dem now.</p> + +<p>I 'membahs when mah ole mammy die. She live on Rims (Reems) Crick with othah +Hemphills. She sick long time. One day white man cum t' see me. He say: "Sarah, +did yo' know yo' manmy wah daid?" "No," I say, "but I wants t' see mah mothah +afoah dey puts huh away."</p> + +<p>I went t' de house and say t' Ole Missie: "Mah mothah she die tofay. I wants +t' see mah mothah afoah dey puts huh away," but she look at me mean an' say: "Git +on outen heah, an' git back to yo' wok afoah I wallup yo' good." So I went back +t' mah wok, with the tears streamin' down mah face, jest awringin' mah hands, I +wanted t' see mah manmy so. 'Bout two weeks latah, Ole Missie she git tebble +sick, she jes' lingah 'long foah long time, but she nebbah gits up no mo'. Wa'nt +long afoah dey puts huh away too, jes' lak mah mammy.</p> + +<p>I 'membahs de time when mah mammy wah alive, I wah a small chile, afoah dey +tuk huh t' Rims Crick. All us chilluns wah playin' in de ya'd one night. Jes' +arunnin' an' aplayin' lak chillun will. All a sudden mammy cum to de do' all +a'sited. "Cum in heah dis minnit," she say. "Jes look up at what is ahappenin'", +and bless yo' life, honey, de sta's wah fallin' jes' lak rain.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" +class="fnanchor">[7]</a> Mammy wah tebble skeered, but we <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span>chillun wa'nt +afeard, no, we wa'nt afeard. But mammy she say evah time a sta' fall, somebuddy +gonna die. Look lak lotta folks gonna die f'om de looks ob dem sta's. Ebbathin' +wah jes' as bright as day. Yo' cudda pick a pin up. Yo' know de sta's don' shine +as bright as dey did back den. I wondah wy dey don'. Dey jes' don' shine as +bright. Wa'nt long afoah dey took mah mammy away, and I wah lef' alone.</p> + +<p>On de plantation wah an ole woman whut de boss bought f'om a drovah up in +Virginny. De boss he bought huh f'om one ob de specalaters. She laff an' tell us: +"Some ob dese days yo'all gwine be free, jes' lak de white folks," but we all +laff at huh. No, we jes' slaves, we allus hafta wok and nevah be free. Den when +freedom cum, she say: "I tole yo'all, now yo' got no larnin', yo' got no nothin', +got no home; whut yo' gwine do? Didn' I tell yo'?"</p> + +<p>I wah gittin along smartly in yeahs when de wah cum. Ah 'membah jes' lak +yestiddy jes' afoah de wah. Marse William wah atalkin' t' hes brothah. I wah +standin' off a piece. Marse's brothah, he say: "William, how ole Aunt Sarah now?" +Marse William look at me an' he say: "She gittin' nigh onta fifty." Dat wah jes' +a lil while afoah de wah.</p> + +<p>Dat wah awful time. Us da'kies didn' know whut it wah all bout. Ony one of de +boys f'om de plantation go. He Alexander, he 'bout twenty-five den. Many de time +we git word de Yankees comin'. We take ouh food an' stock an' hide it till we +sho' dey's gone. We wan't bothahed much. One day, I nebbah fo'git, we look out +an' see sojers ma'chin'; look lak de whole valley full ob dem. I thought: "Poah +helpless crittahs, jes' goin' away t' git kilt." De drums wah<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> beatin' an' +de fifes aplayin'. Dey wah de foot comp'ny. Oh, glory, it wah a sight. Sometime +dey cum home on furlough. Sometime dey git kilt afoah dey gits th'ough. +Alexander, he cum home a few time afoah freedom.</p> + +<p>When de wah was ovah, Marse William he say: "Did yo'all know yo'all's free, +Yo' free now." I chuckle, 'membahin' whut ole woman tell us 'bout freedom, an' no +larnin. Lotta men want me t' go t' foreign land, but I tell 'em I go live wif mah +pappy, long as he live. I stay wif de white folks 'bout twelve months, den I stay +wif mah pappy, long as he live.</p> + +<p>I had two brothahs, dey went t' Califonny, nebbah seed 'em no mo', no' mah +sistah, nuther. I cain't 'membah sech a lot 'bout it all. I jes' knows I'se bo'n +and bred <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: here">heah</ins> in dese pa'ts, nebbah +been outten it. I'se well; nebbah take no doctah med'cine. Jes' ben sick once; +dat aftah freedom.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span + class="label">[7]</span></a> (One of the most spectacular meteoric showers on + record, visible all over North America, occurred in 1833.)</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320007]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Thomas Hall"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>734</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>THOMAS HALL</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Thomas Hall</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"SEP 10 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> + +<h4>THOMAS HALL</h4> + +<h5>Age 81 years<br /> +316 Tarboro Road, Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>My name is Thomas Hall and I was born in Orange County, N. C. on a plantation +belonging to Jim Woods whose wife, our missus, was named Polly. I am eighty one +years of age as I was born Feb. 14, 1856. My father Daniel Hall and my mother +Becke Hall and me all belonged to the same man but it was often the case that +this wus not true as one man, perhaps a Johnson, would own a husband and a Smith +own the wife, each slave goin' by the name of the slave owners, family. In such +cases the children went by the name of the family to which the mother +belonged.</p> + +<p>Gettin married an' having a family was a joke in the days of slavery, as the +main thing in allowing any form of matrimony among the slaves was to raise more +slaves in the same sense and for the same purpose as stock raisers raise horses +and mules, that is for work. A woman who could produce fast was in great demand +and brought a good price on the auction block in Richmond, Va., Charleston, S. +C., and other places.</p> + +<p>The food in many cases that was given the slaves was not given them for their +pleasure or by a cheerful giver, but for the simple and practical reason that +children would not grow into a large healthy slave unless they were well fed and +clothed; and given good warm places in which to live.</p> + +<p>Conditions and rules were bad and the punishments were severe and barbarous. +Some marsters acted like savages. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> some instances slaves were burned at the stake. +Families were torn apart by selling. Mothers were sold from their children. +Children were sold from their mothers, and the father was not considered in +anyway as a family part. These conditions were here before the Civil War and the +conditions in a changed sense have been here ever since. The whites have always +held the slaves in part slavery and are still practicing the same things on them +in a different manner. Whites lynch, burn, and persecute the Negro race in +America yet; and there is little they are doing to help them in anyway.</p> + +<p>Lincoln got the praise for freeing us, but did he do it? He give us freedom +without giving us any chance to live to ourselves and we still had to depend on +the southern white man for work, food and clothing, and he held us through our +necessity and want in a state of servitude but little better than slavery. +Lincoln done but little for the Negro race and from living standpoint nothing. +White folks are not going to do nothing for Negroes except keep them down.</p> + +<p>Harriet Beecher Stowe, the writer of Uncle Tom's Cabin, did that for her own +good. She had her own interests at heart and I don't like her, Lincoln, or none +of the crowd. The Yankees helped free us, so they say, but they let us be put +back in slavery again.</p> + +<p>When I think of slavery it makes me mad. I do not believe in giving you my +story 'cause with all the promises that have been made the Negro is still in a +bad way in the United States,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> no matter in what part he lives it's all the +same. Now you may be all right; there are a few white men who are but the +pressure is such from your white friends that you will be compelled to talk +against us and give us the cold shoulder when you are around them, even if your +heart is right towards us.</p> + +<p>You are going around to get a story of slavery conditions and the persecusions +of Negroes before the civil war and the economic conditions concerning them since +that war. You should have known before this late day all about that. Are you +going to help us? No! you are only helping yourself. You say that my story may be +put into a book, that you are from the Federal Writer's Project. Well, the Negro +will not get anything out of it, no matter where you are from. Harriet Beecher +Stowe wrote Uncle Tom's Cabin. I didn't like her book and I hate her. No matter +where you are from I don't want you to write my story cause the white folks have +been and are now and always will be against the negro.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320016]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Hector Hamilton"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Travis Jordan</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Hector Hamilton</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-slave 90 Years.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 30 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> + +<h4>HECTER HAMILTON</h4> + +<h5>EX-SLAVE 90 YEARS</h5> + +<p>Dey wuz two General Lee's, in de 'Federate War. One los' his fight, but de +other won his.</p> + +<p>One of dese Generals wuz a white man dat rode a white hoss, an' de other wuz a +mean fightin' gander dat I named General Lee, though I didn' know den dat he wuz +goin' to live up to his name. But when de time come dat long neck gander out fit +de whole 'Federate army.</p> + +<p>My white fo'ks lived in Virginia. Dey wuz Marse Peter an' Mis' Laura Hamilton. +Dey lived on de big Hamilton plantation dat wuz so big dat wid all de niggers dey +had dey couldn' 'ten' half of it. Dis lan' done been handed down to Marse Peter +from more den six gran'pappys. Dey wuz cotton an' 'bacca fields a mile wide; de +wheat fields as far as yo' could see wuz like a big sheet of green water, an' it +took half hour to plow one row of cawn, but dey wuz plenty of slaves to do de +work. Mistah Sidney Effort, Marse Peter's overseer, rode all over de fields every +day, cussin' an' crackin' his long blacksnake whip. He drove dem niggers like dey +wuz cattle, but Marse Peter wouldn' 'low no beatin' of his niggers.</p> + +<p>Marse Peter had acres an' acres of woods dat wuz his huntin' 'zerve. Dey wuz +every kind of bird an' animal in dem woods in shootin' season. Dey wuz snipes, +pheasants, patridges, squirrels, rabbits, deers, an' foxes; dey wuz even bears, +an' dey wuz<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> wolfs too dat would come an' catch de sheeps at night.</p> + +<p>Dey wuz always a crowd at Easy Acres huntin' ridin' dancin' an' havin' a good +time. Marse Peter's stables wuz full of hunters an' saddlers for mens an' ladies. +De ladies in dem days rode side saddles. Mis' Laura's saddle wuz all studded wid +sho nuff gol' tacks. De fringe wuz tipped wid gol', an' de buckles on de bridle +wuz solid gol'. When de ladies went to ride dey wore long skirts of red, blue, +an' green velvet, an' dey had plumes on dey hats dat blew in de win'. Dey wouldn' +be caught wearin' britches an' ridin' straddle like de womens do dese days. In +dem times de women wuz ladies.</p> + +<p>Marse Peter kept de bes' sideboa'd in Princess Anne County. His cut glass +decanters cos' near 'bout as much as Mis' Laura's diamon' ear rings I's goin' +tell yo' 'bout. De decanters wuz all set out on de sideboard wid de glasses, an' +de wine an' brandy wuz so ole dat one good size dram would make yo' willin' to go +to de jail house for sixty days. Some of dat wine an' likker done been in dat +cellar ever since Ole Marse Caleb Hamilton's time, an' de done built Easy Acres +befo' Mistah George Washington done cut down his pappy's cherry tree. Dat likker +done been down in dat cellar so long dat yo' had to scrape de dus' off wid a +knife.</p> + +<p>I wuz Marse Peter's main sideboa'd man. When he had shootin' company I didn' +do nothin' but shake drams. De mens would come in from de huntin' field col' an' +tired, an' Marse Peter would say: 'Hustle up, Hecter, fix us a dram of so an' +so.' Dat mean dat I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> wuz to mix de special dram dat I done learned from my gran'pappy. +So, I pours in a little of dis an' a little of dat, den I shakes it 'twell it +foams, den I fills de glasses an' draps in de ice an' de mint. Time de mens drink +dat so an' so dey done forgot dey's tired; dey 'lax, an' when de ladies come down +de stairs all dredd up, dey thinks dey's angels walkin' in gol' shoes. Dem wuz +good times befo' de war an' befo' Marse Peter got shot. From de day Marse Peter +rode his big grey hoss off to fight, we never seed him no more. Mis' Laura never +even know if dey buried him or not.</p> + +<p>After de mens all went to de war dey won't no use for no more drams, so Mis' +Laura took me away from de sideboa'd an' made me a watchman. Dat is, I wuz set to +watch de commissary to see dat de niggers wuzn' give no more den dey share of +eats, den I looked after de chickens an' things, kaze de patter-rollers wuz all +'roun' de country an' dey'd steal everythin' from chickens to sweet taters an +cawn, den dey'd sell it to de Yankees. Dat's when I named dat ole mean fightin' +gander General Lee.</p> + +<p>Everywhare I went 'roun' de place dat gander wuz right at my heels. He wuz de +bigges' gander I ever seed. He weighed near 'bout forty pounds, an' his wings +from tip to tip wuz 'bout two yards. He wuz smart too. I teached him to drive de +cows an' sheeps, an' I sic'd him on de dogs when dey got 'streperous. I'd say, +Sic him, General Lee, an' dat gander would cha'ge. He wuz a better fighter den de +dogs kaze he fit wid his wings, his bill, an wid his feets. I seed him skeer a +bull near 'bout to death one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> day. Dat bull got mad an' jump de fence an' run +all de niggers in de cabins, so I called General Lee an' sic'd him on dat bull. +Dat bird give one squawk an' lit on dat bull's back, an' yo' never seed such +carryin's on. De bull reared an' snorted an' kicked, but dat gander held on. He +whipped dat bull wid his wings 'twell he wuz glad to go back in de lot an' 'have +hese'f. After dat all I had to do to dat bull wuz show him General Lee an' he'd +quiet down.</p> + +<p>Now I's goin' to tell yo' 'bout Mis' Laura's diamon' ear rings.</p> + +<p>De fus' Yankees dat come to de house wuz gentlemens, 'cept dey made us niggers +cook dey supper an' shine dey muddy boots, den dey stole everythin' dey foun' to +tote away, but de nex ones dat come wuz mean. Dey got made kaze de fus' Yankees +done got de pickin's of what Mis' Laura hadn' hid. Dey cut open de feather beds +lookin' for silver; dey ripped open de chair cushings lookin' for money, dey even +tore up de carpets, but dey didn' fin' nothin' kaze all de valuables done been +buried. Even mos' of de wine done been hid, 'twuz' all buried in de ole graves +down in de family grave yard wid de tombstones at de head an' foots. No Yankee +ain't goin' be diggin' in no grave for nothin'.</p> + +<p>Dey wuz one Yankee in dis las' bunch dat wuz big an' bustin'. He strut bigoty +wid his chist stuck out. He walk 'roun' stickin' his sword in de chair cushions, +de pictures on de walls an' things like dat. He got powerful mad kaze he couldn' +fin' nothin', den he look out de window an' seed Mis' Laura. She wuz standin' on +de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> po'ch an' de sun wuz shinin' on de diamon' ear rings in her ears. Dey wuz de ear +rings dat belonged to Marse Peter's great-great-gran'mammy. When de sojer seed +dem diamon's his eyes 'gun to shine. He went out on de po'ch an' went up to Mis' +Laura. 'Gim me dem ear rings,' he say jus' like dat.</p> + +<p>Mis' Laura flung her han's up to her ears an' run out in de yard. De sojer +followed her, an' all de other sojers come too. Dat big Yankee tole Mis' Laura +again to give him de ear rings, but she shook her head. I wuz standin' 'side de +house near 'bout bustin' wid madness when dat Yankee reach up an' snatch Mis' +Laura's hands down an' hold dem in his, den he laugh, an' all de other sojers +'gun to laugh too jus' like dey thought 'twuz funny. 'Bout dat time Ole General +Lee done smell a fight. He come waddlin' 'roun' de house, his tail feathers +bristled out an' tawkin' to he'sef. I point to dem sojers an say, "Sic him, +General Lee, sic him."</p> + +<p>Dat gander ain't waste no time. He let out his wings an' cha'ged dem Yankees +an' dey scatter like flies. Den he lit on dat big sojer's back an' 'gun to beat +him wid his wings. Dat man let out a yell an' drap Mis' Laura's hands; he try to +shake dat goose, but General bit into his neck an' held on like a leech. When de +other sojers come up an' try to pull him off, dat gander let out a wing an' near +about slap dem down. I ain't never seed such fightin! Every time I holler, Sic +him, General Lee start 'nother 'tack.</p> + +<p>'Bout dat time dem Yankees took a runnin' nothin. Dey forgot de ear rings an' +lit out down de road, but dat gander beat dat bigoty yellin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> sojer clear +down to de branch befo' he turned him loose, den he jump in de water an' wash +hese'f off. Yes, suh, dat wuz sho some fightin' goose; he near 'bout out fit de +sho nuff Marse General Lee.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320230]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="George W. Harris"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>942</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>GEORGE W. HARRIS</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>George W. Harris</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> + +<h4>GEORGE W. HARRIS</h4> + +<h5>604 E. Cabarrus Street, Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>Hey, don't go 'roun' dat post gitting it 'tween you and me, it's bad luck. +Don't you know it's bad luck? Don't want no more bad luck den what I'se already +got. My name is George Harris. I wuz born November 25, 82 years ago. I have been +living in the City of Raleigh onto 52 years. I belonged to John Andrews. He died +about de time I wuz born. His wife Betsy wuz my missus and his son John wuz my +marster.</p> + +<p>Deir plantation wuz in Jones County. Dere were about er dozen slaves on de +plantation. We had plenty o' food in slavery days during my boyhood days, plenty +of good sound food. We didn't have 'xactly plenty o' clothes, and our places ter +sleep needed things, we were in need often in these things. We were treated +kindly, and no one abused us. We had as good owners as there were in Jones +County; they looked out for us. They let us have patches to tend and gave us what +we made. We did not have much money. We had no church on the plantation, but +there wuz one on Marster's brother's plantation next ter his plantation.</p> + +<p>We had suppers an' socials, generally gatherings for eatin', socials jist to +git together an' eat. We had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> a lot o' game ter eat, such as possums, coons, +rabbits and birds.</p> + +<p>De plantation wuz fenced in wid rails about 10 ft. in length split from pine +trees. De cattle, hogs an' hosses run out on de free range. The hosses ran on +free range when de crap wuz laid by. There wuz an ole mare dat led de hosses. She +led 'em an' when she come home at night dey followed her.</p> + +<p>De first work I done wuz drappin' tater sprouts, drappin' corn, thinnin' out +corn and roundin' up corn an' mindin' the crows out of de field. Dey did not +teach us to read an' write, but my father could read, and he read de hymn book +and Testament to us sometimes. I do not remember ever goin' to church durin' +slavery days.</p> + +<p>I have never seen a slave whipped and none ever ran away to the North from our +plantation.</p> + +<p>When I wuz a boy we chillun played marbles, prison base, blind fold and tag, +hide an' seek. Dey gave us Christmas holidays, an' 4th of July, an' lay-by time. +Dey also called dis time "crap hillin' time." Most o' de time when we got sick +our mother doctored us with herbs which she had in de garden. When we had side +plurisy, what dey calls pneumonia now, dey sent fer a doctor. Doctor Hines +treated us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span></p> + +<p>We lived near Trenton. When de Yankees took New Bern, our marster had us out +in de woods in Jones County mindin' hosses an' takin' care o' things he had hid +there. We got afraid and ran away to New Bern in Craven County. We all went in a +gang and walked. De Yankees took us at Deep Gully ten miles dis side o' New Bern +an' carried us inside de lines. Dey asked us questions and put us all in jail. +Dey put my father ter cookin' at de jail and give us boys work 'roun' de yard. +Dey put de others at work at de horse stables and houses.</p> + +<p>De smallpox and yaller fever caught us dere and killed us by de hundreds. +Thirteen doctors died dere in one day. Jist 'fore Gen. Lee surrendered dey +carried us to Petersburg, Va., and I waited on Major Emory and de others worked +fer de Yankees. When de surrender came we went back home to Craven County, next +to Jones County, and went to farmin'. Sumpin' to eat could not hardly be found. +De second year atter de war we went back to old marster's plantation. He wuz glad +ter see us, we all et dinner wid him. We looked over de place. I looked over de +little log cabin where I wuz born. Some of de boys who had been slaves, farmed +wid old marster, but I worked at my trade. I wuz a brick moulder. Yes, a brick +maker.</p> + +<p>My mother was named Jennie Andrews and my father<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> was Quash Harris. My father +belonged to de Harris family on de nex' plantation in Jones County. Atter de +surrender we all went in his name. We changed from Andrews to Harris. I do not +recollect my grandmother and grandfather. I can't recollect them.</p> + +<p>Marster told us directly after dey declared war dat he expected we would all +soon be free. De majority of de slaves did not want to be free. Dey were stirred +up. Dey didn't want it to be. Dey didn't want no fightin'. Dey didn't know.</p> + +<p>I married Mary Boylan first, of Johnston County, at Wilsons Mills, Jan. 4, +1878. Here is de family record. Ole marster made me copies after de war, and I +copied dis. 'George Harris was married the year 1878, January the 4th. George +Harris was born the year 1855 November the 25th.'</p> + +<p>I had five brothers, but they are all dead, fur as I know: John Nathan, Louis, +David, Jefferson, Donald and my name George. My sisters, Mary Ann, Sara, Lucy, +Penny, Emaline, Lizzie, Nancy, Leah and one I can't remember. Dats all.</p> + +<p>I thought Abraham Lincoln wuz a great man. I remember him well. I think he +done de best he knowed how to settle de country. Mr. Roosevelt is a smart man. He +is doing de best he can. I think he is goin' to help de country.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320183]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Sarah Harris"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>660</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>AN EX-SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Sarah Harris</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 11 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class="hw">Good points</span> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 220px;"> +<img src="images/s_harris.jpg" width="220" height="300" alt="s_harris" title="Sarah Harris" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> + +<h4>SARAH HARRIS</h4> + +<h5>Interviewed May 19, 1937.</h5> + +<p>Sarah Harris is my name. I wuz borned April 1861, on the plantation of Master +John William Walton. My father wuz name Frank Walton and my mother wuz name Flora +Walton. My brothers wuz name Lang and Johnny. My sisters: Hannah, Mary, Ellen, +Violet and Annie. My grandmother wuz name Ellen Walton. She wuz 104 years old +when she died. My mother wuz 103 years old when she died; she has been dead 3 +years. She died in October, 3 years this pas' October.</p> + +<p>I 'member seeing the Yankees. I wuz not afraid of 'em, I thought dey were the +prettiest blue mens I had ever seed. I can see how de chickens and guineas flew +and run from 'em. De Yankees killed 'em and give part of 'em to the colored +folks. Most of de white folks had run off and hid.</p> + +<p>I can't read and write. I nebber had no chance.</p> + +<p>De Yankees had their camps along the Fayetteville road.</p> + +<p>Dey called us Dinah, Sam, and other names.</p> + +<p>Dey later had de place dey call de bureau. When we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> left de white folks we had +nothing to eat. De niggers wait there at de bureau and they give 'em hard tack, +white potatoes, and saltpeter meat. Our white folks give us good things to eat, +and I cried every day at 12 o'clock to go home. Yes, I wanted to go back to my +white folks; they were good to us. I would say, 'papa le's go home, I want to go +home. I don't like this sumptin' to eat.' He would say, 'Don't cry, honey, le's +stay here, dey will sen' you to school.'</p> + +<p>We had nothing to eat 'cept what de Yankees give us. But Mr. Bill Crawford +give my father and mother work. Yes, he wuz a Southern man, one o' our white +folks. Daddy wuz his butcher. My mother wuz his cook. We were turned out when dey +freed us with no homes and nuthin'. Master said he wuz sorry he didn't give us +niggers part of his lan'.</p> + +<p>While I wuz big enough to work I worked for Porter Steadman. I got 25 cent a +week and board. We had a good home then. I just shouted when I got dat 25 cent, +and I just run. I couldn't run fas' anuff to git to my mother to give dat money +to her. My father died, and my mother bought a home. She got her first money to +buy de home by working for de man who give her work after de surrender. The first +money she saved to put on de home wuz a dime.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> Some weeks she only saved 5 +cents. Lan' sold fur $10 a acre den.</p> + +<p>Just after de war de white and colored children played together. Dey had a +tent in our neighborhood. I wuz de cook for de white chilluns parties. We played +together fer a long time after de war.</p> + +<p>I married Silas Cooper of Norfolk Va. He worked in the Navy yard. I wuz +married in Raleigh. I had a church wedding.</p> + +<p>I think Abraham Lincoln wuz a great man. He would cure or kill. But I like my +ole master. The Lord put it into Abraham Lincoln to do as he done. The Lord +knowed he would be killed.</p> + +<p>I think slavery wuz wrong. I have a horror of being a slave. You see all dis +lan' aroun' here. It belongs to colored folks. Dey were cut off wid nothin', but +dey is strugglin' an' dey are comin' on fast. De Bible say dat de bottom rail +will be on top, and it is comin' to pass. Sometime de colored race will git up. +De Bible say so.</p> + +<p>I think Mr. Roosevelt is one of the greatest mans in de world. He wants to +help everybody.</p> + +<p>I doan think much of Mr. Jeff Davis. Dey used to sing songs uv hanging him to +a apple tree. Dey say he libed a long time atter de war dressed like a 'oman, he +wuz so skeered.</p> + +<p><small>TPM:EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320122]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Cy Hart"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 3</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Whaley</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Cy Hart</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-slave, 78 years.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>Durham, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 6 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class="hw">48</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> + +<h4>CY HART, 78 Yrs.</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave.</h5> + +<p>Ephram Hart was my pappy and my mammy's name was Nellie. He belonged to Marse +Ephram Hart. One day Marse Hart took some of his niggers to de slave market an' +my pappy was took along too. When he was put on de block an' sold Marse Paul +Cameron bought him. Den Marse Hart felt so sorry to think he done let my pappy be +sold dat he tried to buy him back from Marse Paul, an' offered him more den Marse +Paul paid for him. But Marse Paul said, "No, Suh. I done bought him an' I want +det nigger myself an' I am goin' take him home wid me to Snow Hill farm."</p> + +<p>Pappy married my mammy an' raised a family on Marse Paul's plantation. We had +to be eight years ole before we 'gun to work. I tended de chickens an' turkeys +an' sech. I helped tend de other stock too as I growed older, an' do anythin' +else dat I was tole to do. When I got bigger I helped den wid de thrashin' de +wheat an' I helped dem push de straw to de stack.</p> + +<p>We had what wuz den called a 'groun' hog. It wuz a cylinder shaped +contraption. We put de wheat straw an all in it an' knock de grain loose from de +straw. Den we took de pitchforks an' tossed de straw up an' about, an' dat let de +wheat go to de bottom on a big cloth. Den we fan de wheat, to get de dust an' +dirt out, an' we had big curtains hung 'roun' de cloth whar de wheat lay, so de +wheat wouldn' get all scattered, on de groun'. Dis wheat was sacked an' when +wanted 'twus took to de mill an' groun' into flour. De flour wuz made into white +bread an' de corn wuz groun' into meal an' grits.</p> + +<p>When de war started der wuz some bad times. One day some of Wheeler's men come +an' dey tried to take what dey wanted, but Marge Paul had de silver money another +things hid. Dey wanted us niggers to tell dem whar everythin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> wuz, but we +said we didn' know nuthin'. Marse Paul wuz hid in de woods wid de horses an' some +of de other stock.</p> + +<p>Den Wheeler's men saw de Yankees comin' an' dey run away. De Yankees chased +dem to de bridge an' dey done some fightin' an' one or two of Wheeler's men wuz +killed an' de rest got away.</p> + +<p>Den de captain of de Yankees come to Mammy's cabin an' axed her whar de meat +house an' flour an' sech at. She tole him dat Pappy had de keys to go an' ax him. +"Ax him nothin'", de captain said. He called some of his mens an' dey broke down +de door to de meat house. Den dey trowed out plenty of dose hams an' dey tole +Mammy to cook dem somethin' to eat and plenty of it. Mammy fried plenty of dat +ham an' made lots of bread an' fixed dem coffee. How dey did eat! Dey wuz jus' as +nice as dey could be to Mammy an' when dey wuz through, dey tole Mammy dat she +could have de rest, an' de captain gave her some money an' he tole her dat she +wuz free, dat we didn' belong to Marse Paul no longer. Dey didn' do any harm to +de place. Dey wuz jus' looking for somethin' to eat. Den dey left.</p> + +<p>We didn' leave Marse Paul but stayed on an' lived wid him for many years. I +lived wid Marse Paul 'til he died an' he done selected eight of us niggers to +tote his coffin to de chapel, an' de buryin' groun'. He said, "I want dese +niggers to carry my body to de chapel an' de grave when I die." We did. It wuz a +<ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: load">lood</ins> I would have been glad had der +been two or four more to help tote Marse Paul for he sho wuz heavy. After +everythin' wuz ready we lifted him up an' toted him to de chapel an' we sat down +on de floor, on each side of de coffin, while de preacher preached de funeral +sermon. We didn' make any fuss while sittin' dere on de floor, but we sho wuz +full of grief to see our dear ole Marse Paul lying dere dead.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320130]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Alonzo Haywood"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>381</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>THE BLACKSMITH</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Alonzo Haywood</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG—1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> + +<h4>THE BLACKSMITH</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Alonzo Haywood, 67 years old of 1217 Oberlin Road.</h5> + +<p>On East Cabarrus Street is a blacksmith shop which is a survival of horse and +buggy days, and the smiling blacksmith, a Negro, although he has hazel eyes, +recounts the story of his father's life and his own.</p> + +<p>My father was Willis Haywood and in slavery days he belonged to Mr. William R. +Pool. Mr. Pool liked father because he was quick and obedient so he determined to +give him a trade.</p> + +<p>Wilson Morgan run the blacksmith shop at Falls of Neuse and it was him that +taught my father the trade at Mr. Pool's insistence.</p> + +<p>While father, a young blade, worked and lived at Falls of Neuse, he fell in +love with my mother, Mirana Denson, who lived in Raleigh. He come to see her +ever' chance he got and then they were married.</p> + +<p>When the Yankees were crossing the Neuse Bridge at the falls, near the old +paper mill, the bridge broke in. They were carrying the heavy artillery over and +a great many men followed, in fact the line extended to Raleigh, because when the +bridge fell word passed by word of mouth from man to man back to Raleigh.</p> + +<p>Father said that the Yankees stopped in the shop to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> make some hoss shoes and nails +and that the Yankees could do it faster than anybody he ever saw.</p> + +<p>Father told me a story once 'bout de devil traveling and he got sore feet and +was awful lame but he went in a blacksmith shop and the blacksmith shoed him.</p> + +<p>The devil traveled longer and the shoes hurt his feet and made him lamer than +ever so he went back and asked the blacksmith to take off de shoes.</p> + +<p>The blacksmith took them off under the condition that wherever the devil saw a +horse shoe over a door he would not enter. That's the reason that people hang up +horseshoes over their door.</p> + +<p>Mother died near twenty years ago and father died four years later. He had not +cared to live since mother left him.</p> + +<p>I've heard some of the young people laugh about slave love, but they should +envy the love which kept mother and father so close together in life and even +held them in death.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320127]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Barbara Haywood"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>547</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>AUNT BARBARA'S LOVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Barbara Haywood</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Geo. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 4 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> + +<h4>AUNT BARBARA'S LOVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Barbara Haywood, 85 years old.<br /> +Address 1111 Mark Street, Raleigh, North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>Anything dat I tells you will near 'bout all be 'bout Frank Haywood, my +husban'.</p> + +<p>I wus borned on de John Walton place seben miles southeast of Raleigh. My +father, Handy Sturdivant, belonged to somebody in Johnston County but mother an' +her chilluns 'longed ter Marse John Walton.</p> + +<p>Marse John had a corn shuckin' onct an' at dat corn shuckin' I fust saw Frank. +I wus a little girl, cryin' an' bawlin' an' Frank, who wus a big boy said dat he +neber wanted ter spank a youngin' so bad, an' I ain't liked him no better dan he +did me.</p> + +<p>He 'longed ter Mr. Yarborough, what runned de hotel in Raleigh, but he wus +boun' out ter anybody what'ud hire him, an' I doan know whar he got his name.</p> + +<p>I seed Frank a few times at de Holland's Methodist Church whar we went ter +church wid our white folks.</p> + +<p>You axes iffen our white folks wus good ter us, an' I sez ter yo' dat none of +de white folks wus good ter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> none of de niggers. We done our weavin' at +night an' we wurked hard. We had enough ter eat but we was whupped some.</p> + +<p>Jest 'fore de war wus ober we wus sent ter Mr. William Turner's place down +clost ter Smithfield an' dats whar we wus when de Yankees come.</p> + +<p>One day I wus settin' on de porch restin' atter my days wurk wus done when I +sees de hoss-lot full of men an' I sez ter Marse William, who am talkin' ter a +soldier named Cole, 'De lot am full of men.'</p> + +<p>Marse Cole looks up an' he 'lows, 'Hits dem damned Yankees,' an' wid dat he +buckles on his sword an' he ain't been seen since.</p> + +<p>De Yankees takes all de meat outen de smokehouse an' goes 'roun' ter de slave +cabins an' takes de meat what de white folkses has put dar. Dat wus de fust hams +dat has eber been in de nigger house. Anyhow de Yankees takes all de hams, but +dey gibes us de shoulders.</p> + +<p>Atter de war we moved ter Raleigh, on Davie Street an' I went ter school a +little at Saint Paul's. Frank wus wurkin' at de City Market on Fayetteville +Street an' I'd go seberal blocks out of my way mornin' an' night on my way ter +school ter look at him. You see I has been in love with him fer a long time +den.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span></p> + +<p>Atter awhile Frank becomes a butcher an' he am makin' pretty good. I is +thirteen so he comes ter see me an' fer a year we cou'ts. We wus settin' in de +kitchen at de house on Davie Street when he axes me ter have him an' I has +him.</p> + +<p>I knows dat he tol' me dat he warn't worthy but dat he loved me an' dat he'd +do anything he could ter please me, an' dat he'd always be good ter me.</p> + +<p>When I wus fourteen I got married an' when I wus fifteen my oldes' daughter, +Eleanor, wus borned. I had three atter her, an' Frank wus proud of dem as could +be. We wus happy. We libed together fifty-four years an' we wus always happy, +havin' a mighty little bit of argument. I hopes young lady, dat you'll be as +lucky as I wus wid Frank.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320210]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Isabell Henderson"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs. Edith S. Hibbs</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>550</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Story of Isabell Henderson, Negro</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Isabell Henderson</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>1121 Rankin St., Wilmington, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs. W. N. Harriss</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> + +<h4>STORY OF ISABELL HENDERSON, NEGRO</h4> + +<h5>1121 Rankin St.,<br /> +Wilmington, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I'll be 84 years old come August 9. My gran'-daughter can tell you what year +it was I was born I don' 'member but we has it down in the Bible.</p> + +<p>I lived near the "Clock Church" (Jewish Synagogue)<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>, 4th and +Market. We had a big place there. My gran'mother did the cookin'. My mother did +the sewin'. I was jus five years old when the men went away. I guess to the war, +I don' know. Some men came by and conscip' dem. I don' know where they went but I +guess dey went to war. I was such a little girl I don't 'member much. But I does +know my Missus was good to me. I used to play with her little boy. I was jes' one +of the family. I played with the little boy around the house' cause I was never +'lowed to run the streets. They was good to me. They kept me in clothes, pretty +clothes, and good things to eat. Yes'm we was slaves but we had good times.</p> + +<p>Interviewer: "What did you eat?"</p> + +<p>Isabell: "Oh I don't 'member 'special but I et jes what the family et."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span>Maybe my father was killed in the war maybe he run away I don' +know, he jus' neber come back no mo'.</p> + +<p>Yes'm I remember when the soldiers came along and freed us. They went through +breakin' down peoples shops and everything.</p> + +<p>My mother married again. She married Edward Robertson. He was good to me. +Yes'm he was better to me than my father was. He was a preacher and a painter. My +mother died. When my father, (step-father) went off to preach, me and my sister +stayed in the house.</p> + +<p>I stayed home all my life. I just wasn't 'llowed to run around like most +girls. I never been out of Wilmington but one year in my life. That year I went +to Augusta. No'm I don't likes to go away. I don't like the trains, nor the +automobiles. But I rides in 'em (meaning the latter).</p> + +<p>I remember when the 4th Street bridge was built. I was married over there in +St. Stephen's Church, 5th and Red Cross. Yes M'am my auntie she gib me a big +weddin'. I was 22 and my husband was 22 too not quite 23. Not a year older than I +was. He was a cooper. Yes Ma'm I had a big weddin'. The church was all decorated +with flowers. I had six attendants. Four big ones and two little ones. My husband +he had the same number I did four big ones and two little ones. I had on a white +dress. Carried flowers. Had carriages and everything. My husband was good to me. +I didn't stay home with my father but about a month. We wanted to go to +ourselves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span></p> + +<p>We went in our own home and stayed there until I got a "sickness." (She looked +shy) I didn't know what was the matter with me. My father told me I better come +home. So I went home to my father and stayed there about two years.</p> + +<p>I have had five children. Three are livin'. Two are dead.</p> + +<p>I never worked until after he died. He left me with five little children to +raise.</p> + +<p>He was the only man I ever 'knowed' in all my life from girlhood up.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span + class="label">[8]</span></a> The Synagogue has no clock on the exterior, but + Isabell persisted with her name of "Clock Church."</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320017]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Essex Henry"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>738</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Essex Henry</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 26 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 190px;"> +<img src="images/e_henry.jpg" width="190" height="300" alt="e_henry" title="Essex Henry" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> + +<h4>ESSEX HENRY</h4> + +<h5>Ex-Slave Story<br /> +An interview with Essex Henry 83 of 713 S. East Street, Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I wus borned five miles north of Raleigh on de Wendell Road, 83 years ago. My +mammy wus Nancy an' my pappy wus Louis. I had one sister, Mary, an' one bruder, +Louis.</p> + +<p>We 'longed ter Mr. Jake Mordecai, an' we lived on his six hundert acres +plantation 'bout a mile from Millbrook. Right atter de war he sold dis lan' ter +Doctor Miller an' bought de Betsy Hinton tract at Milburnie. Mr. Jake had four or +five hundert niggers hyar an' I doan know how many at de Edgecombe County +place.</p> + +<p>De wuck wus hard den, I knows case I'se seed my little mammy dig ditches wid +de best of 'em. I'se seed her split 350 rails a day many's de time. Dat wus her +po'tion you knows, an' de mens had ter split 500. I wus too little ter do much +but min' de chickens outen de gyarden, an' so I fared better dan most of 'em. You +see Miss Tempie 'ud see me out at de gate mornin's as dey wus eatin' breakfas' on +de ferander, an' she'ud call me ter her an' give me butter toasted lightbread or +biscuits. She'd give me a heap in dat way, an' do de rest of de slaves got +hungry, I doan think dat I eber did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> I know dat Miss Jenny Perry, on a neighborin' +plantation, 'ud give my mammy food, fer us chilluns.</p> + +<p>Mo'nin's we sometimes ain't had nothin' ter eat. At dinner time de cook at de +big house cooked nuff turnip salet, beans, 'taters, er peas fer all de han's an' +long wid a little piece of meat an' a little hunk of co'nbread de dinner wus sont +ter de slaves out in de fiel' on a cart.</p> + +<p>De slaves 'ud set roun' under de trees an' eat an' laugh an' talk till de +oberseer, Bob Gravie, yells at 'em ter git back ter wuck. Iffen dey doan git back +right den he starts ter frailin' lef' an' right.</p> + +<p>Dar wus a few spirited slaves what won't be whupped an' my uncle wus one. He +wus finally sold fer dis.</p> + +<p>Hit wus different wid my gran'mother do'. De oberseer tried ter whup her an' +he can't, so he hollers fer Mr. Jake. Mr. Jake comes an' he can't, so he hauls +off an' kicks granny, mashin' her stomick in. He has her carried ter her cabin +an' three days atterward she dies wid nothin' done fer her an' nobody wid +her.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jake orders de coffinmaker ter make de pine box, an' den he fergits hit. +De slaves puts de coffin on de cyart hin' de two black hosses an' wid six or +maybe seben hundert niggers follerin' dey goes ter de Simms' graveyard an' buries +her. All de way ter de graveyard dey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> sings, 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot,' 'De Promised +Lan', 'De Road ter Jordan,' an' 'Ole Time Religion.'</p> + +<p>Hit's a good thing dat none of de white folkses ain't went to de funerals case +iffen dey had de niggers can't sing deir hymns. Does you know dat dey warn't no +'ligion 'lowed on dat plantation. Ole lady Betsy Holmes wus whupped time an' +ag'in fer talkin' 'ligion er fer singin' hymns. We sometimes had prayermeetin' +anyhow in de cabins but we'd turn down de big pot front o' de door ter ketch de +noise.</p> + +<p>Dey won't gib us no pass hardly, an' iffen we runs 'way de patterollers will +git us. Dey did let us have some dances do' now an' den, but not offen. Dey let +us go possum huntin' too case dat wus gittin' something ter eat widout Mr. Jake +payin' fer hit.</p> + +<p>Mr. Henry, Mr. Jake's bruder an' his Uncle Moses uster come a-visitin' ter de +house fer de day. Mr. Henry wus little wid a short leg an' a long one, an' he had +de wust temper dat eber wus in de worl'; an' he loved ter see slaves suffer, near +'bout much as he loved his brandy. We knowed when we seed him comin' dat dar wus +gwine ter be a whuppin' frolic 'fore de day wus gone.</p> + +<p>Dar wus three niggers, John Lane, Ananias Ruffin an' Dick Rogers what got de +blame fer eber'thing what happens on de place. Fer instance Mr. Henry 'ud look in +de hawg pen an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> 'low dat hit 'peared dat he bruder's stock wus growin' less all +de time. Den Mr. Jake sez dat dey done been stold.</p> + +<p>'Why doan you punish dem thievin' niggers, Jake'?</p> + +<p>Jake gits mad an' has dese three niggers brung out, deir shirts am pulled off +an' dey am staked down on deir stomichs, an' de oberseer gits wored out, an' +leavin' de niggers tied, dar in de sun, dey goes ter de house ter git some +brandy.</p> + +<p>Dey more dey drinks from de white crock de better humor dey gits in. Dey +laughs an' talks an' atter awhile dey think o' de niggers, an' back dey goes an' +beats 'em some more. Dis usually lasts all de day, case hit am fun ter dem.</p> + +<p>Atter so long dey ketched Jack Ashe, a Free Issue, wid one of de pigs, an' dey +whups him twixt drinks all de day, an' at night dey carried him ter de Raleigh +jail. He wus convicted an' sent ter Bald Head Island ter wuck on de breastworks +durin' de war an' he ain't neber come back.</p> + +<p><ins class="edcorr" title="Asterisk in margin">Dar</ins> wus a man in Raleigh what +had two blood houn's an' he made his livin' by ketchin' runaway niggers. His name +wus Beaver an' he ain't missed but onct. Pat Norwood took a long grass sythe when +he runned away, an' as de fust dog come he clipped off its tail, de second one he +clipped off its ear an' dem dawgs ain't run him no more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></p> + +<p>De war lasted a long time, an' hit wus a mess. Some of Marster <ins class="edcorr" title="Asterisk">Jake's</ins> +slaves lef' him an' when de Yankees got ter +Raleigh dey come an' tol' 'em 'bout de way Mr. Jake done. Well in a few days hyar +comes de Yankees a-ridin', an' dey sez dat dey had tentions o' hangin' Mr. Jake +on de big oak in de yard iffen he 'uv been dar, but he ain't. He an' his family +had flewed de coop.</p> + +<p>Dem Yankees went in de big house an' dey tored an' busted up all dey pleased, +dey eben throwed de clothes all ober de yard.</p> + +<p>Dey took two big barns o' corn an' haul hit off an' down Devil's Jump on +Morris Creek dey buried ever so much molasses an' all.</p> + +<p>At Rattlesnake Spring de Yankees fin's whar Marster Jake's still had been, an' +dar buried, dey fin's five barrels o' brandy.</p> + +<p>Atter de war we stayed on as servants o' Doctor Miller fer seberal years. I +'members de only time dat I eber got drunk wus long den. De doctor an' his +frien's wus splurgin', an' I went wid another nigger ter git de brandy from de +cellar fer de guests. When I tasted hit, hit drunk so good, an' so much lak +sweetin water dat I drunk de pitcher full. I wus drunk three days.</p> + +<p>I married Milly, an' sixty years ago we moved ter town. We scuffled along till +twenty-eight years ago we buyed dis shack. I hopes dat we can git de ole age +pension, case we shore need hit.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320015]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Milly Henry"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Ex-Slave Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Milly Henry</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 26 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 197px;"> +<img src="images/m_henry.jpg" width="197" height="300" alt="m_henry" title="Milly Henry" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Milly Henry 82 of 713 South East Street, Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I wus borned a slave ter Mr. Buck Boylan in Yazoo City, Mississippi. I doan +know nothin' 'bout my family 'cept my gran'maw an' she died in Mississippi durin' +de war.</p> + +<p>Marster Buck owned three plantations dar, de Mosley place, Middle place, an' +de Hill place. Me an' gran'maw lived at de Mosley place. One day Marster Buck +comes in, an' we sees dat he am worried stiff; atter awhile he gangs us up, an' +sez ter us:</p> + +<p>De Yankees am a-comin' to take my slaves 'way from me an' I don't 'pose dat +dey am gwine ter do dat. Fer dem reasons we leaves fer No'th Carolina day atter +termorror an' I ain't gwine ter hyar no jaw 'bout hit.'</p> + +<p>Dat day he goes over de slaves an' picks out 'roun' five hundret ter go. He +picks me out, but my gran'maw he sez dat he will leave case she am so old an' +feeble. I hates dat, but I don't say nothin' at all.</p> + +<p>We leaves home in kivered wagons, wid a heap walkin' an' in 'bout three weeks, +I reckon, we gits ter Raleigh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> You should have been 'long on dat trip, honey; +When we camps side of de road an' sleeps on de groun' an' cooks our rations at de +camp fires. I think dat dat wus one spring 'fore de surrender wus de nex'.</p> + +<p>Marster Buck carries us ter Boylan Avenue dar whar de bridge am now an' we +camps fer a few days, but den he sen's us out ter de Crabtree plantation. He also +buys a place sommers east o' Raleigh an' sen's some dar.</p> + +<p>I misses my gran'maw fer awhile, but at last Uncle Green comes from +Mississippi an' he sez dat gran'maw am daid, so I pretty quick stops worrin' over +hit.</p> + +<p>Marster' cides ter hire some o' us out, an' so I gits hired out ter Miss Mary +Lee, who I wucks fer till she got so pore she can't feed me, den I is hired out +ter Miss Sue Blake an' sent ter de Company Shop up above Durham.</p> + +<p>Miss Mary wus good, but Miss Sue she whup me, so I runs away. I went +barefooted an' bareheaded ter de train, an' I gits on. Atter awhile de conductor +comes fer a ticket an' I ain't got none. He axes me whar I'se gwine an' I tells +him home, so he brung me on ter Raleigh.</p> + +<p>I went right home an' tol' Mr. Buck dat Miss Sue whupped me, an' dat I runned +away. He said dat hit wus all right, an' he hired me out ter Mis' Lee Hamilton +who lived dar on de Fayetteville Street.</p> + +<p>She wus a widder an' run a boardin' house an' dar's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 406]</a></span> whar I seed de first drunk man +dat eber I seed. He put de back o' his knife ginst my neck an' said dat he wus +gwine ter cut my throat. I tell you dat I is knowed a drunk eber since dat +time.</p> + +<p>I wus drawin' water at de well at de end of Fayetteville Street when de +Yankees comed. I seed 'em ridin' up de street wid deir blue coats shinin' an' +deir hosses steppin' high. I knowed dat I ought ter be skeered but I ain't, an' +so I stands dar an' watches.</p> + +<p>Suddenly as dey passes de bank out rides two mens frum Wheeler's calvary an' +dey gits in de middle o' de street one of de hosses wheels back an' de man shot +right at de Yankees, den he flewed frum dar.</p> + +<p>Two of de Yankees retracts frum de army an' dey flies atter de Rebs. When de +Rebs git ter de Capitol one o' dem flies down Morgan Street an' one goes out +Hillsboro Street wid de Yankees hot in behin' him.</p> + +<p>Dey ketched him out dar at de Hillsboro Bridge when his hoss what wus already +tired, stumbles an' he falls an' hurts his leg.</p> + +<p>Durin' dat time de big man wid de red hair what dey calls Kilpatrick brung his +men up on de square an' sets under de trees an' a gang o' people comes up.</p> + +<p>When dey brung de young good lookin' Reb up ter de redheaded Gen'l he sez +'What you name Reb?'</p> + +<p>De boy sez, 'Robert Walsh, sir.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p> + +<p>What for did you done go an' shoot at my army?</p> + +<p>"Case I hates de Yankees an' I wush dat dey wus daid in a pile," de Reb sez, +an' laughs.</p> + +<p>"De Gen'l done got his dander up now, an' he yells," 'Carry de Reb sommers +out'r sight o' de ladies an' hang him.'</p> + +<p>De Reb laughs an' sez, 'kin' o' you sir,' an' he waves goodbye ter de crowd +an' dey carried him off a laughin' fit ter kill.</p> + +<p>Dey hanged him on a ole oak tree in de Lovejoy grove, whar de Governor's +mansion am now standin' an' dey buried him under de tree.</p> + +<p>Way atter de war dey moved his skileton ter Oakwood Cemetery an' put him up a +monument. His grave wus kivered wid flowers, an' de young ladies cry.</p> + +<p>He died brave do', an' he kep' laughin' till his neck broke. I wus dar an' +seed hit, furdermore dar wus a gang of white ladies dar, so dey might as well a +hanged him on de Capitol Square.</p> + +<p>De Yankees wus good ter me, but hit shore wus hard ter git a job do', an' so I +ain't fared as good as I did' fore de war.</p> + +<p>Mr. Buck wus good ter us. Sometimes he'd lose his temper an' cuss, den he'd +say right quick, 'God forgive me, I pray.' Dat man believed in 'ligion. When de +oberseer, George Harris, 'ud start ter beat a slave dey larned ter yell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> fer Mr. Buck +an' make lak dey wus gittin' kilt.</p> + +<p>Mr. Buck'd come stompin' an' yellin' 'stop beatin' dat nigger.</p> + +<p>Course dis ruint de slaves, case dey could talk lak dey pleased ter Mr. +Harris, an' iffen dey could yell loud nuff dey ain't got no whuppin'.</p> + +<p>Yessum, I'se glad slavery am over; we owns dis home an' some chickens, but we +shore does need de ole age pension. I'se got two fine gran'sons, but let me tell +you dey needs ter wuck harder, eat less, an' drink less.</p> + +<p>On de count o' dem boys I wants de ABC Stores so's dey won't drink box +lye.</p> + +<p><small>EH</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320047]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Chaney Hews"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>737</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>CHANEY HEWS</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Chaney Hews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> + +<h4>CHANEY HEWS</h4> + +<h5>80 years old. 104 Cotton Street, Raleigh, North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>My age, best of my recollection, is about eighty years. I was 'bout eight +years ole when de Yankees come through. Chillun in dem days wus not paid much +mind like dey is now. White chillun nor nigger chillun wus not spiled by +tenshun.</p> + +<p>I got enough to eat to live on an' dat wus 'bout all I keered 'bout. Des so I +could git a little to eat and could play all de time. I stayed outen de way of de +grown folks. No, chillun wus not noticed like dey is now.</p> + +<p>I heard de grown folks talkin' 'bout de Yankees. De niggers called 'em blue +jackets. Den one mornin', almost 'fore I knowed it, de yard wus full of 'em. Dey +tried to ride de hosses in de house, dey caught de chickens, killed de shoats and +took de horses an' anything else dey wanted. Dey give de nigger hardtack an' +pickled meat. I 'members eating some of de meat, I didn't like.</p> + +<p>We had reasonably good food, clothin', and warm log houses wid stick an' dirt +chimleys. De houses wus warm enough all de time in winter, and dey didn't leak in +rainy weather neither.</p> + +<p>Dere wus a lot of slaves an' marster an' missus wus good to father an' mother. +When dey had a cornshuckin' we slaves had a good time, plenty to eat, whiskey for +de grown folks and a rastlin' match after de corn wus shucked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> A nigger dat +shucked a red ear of corn got a extra drink of whiskey. Dat wus de custom in dem +days.</p> + +<p>No prayermeetings wus allowed on de plantation but we went to Salem to white +folks church and also to white folks church at Cary.</p> + +<p>Dey whupped mother 'cause she tried to learn to read, no books wus allowed. +Mother said dat if de blue jackets had not come sooner or later I would have got +de lash.</p> + +<p>Mother belonged to Sam Atkins who owned a plantation about ten miles down de +Ramkatte Road in Wake County. Father belonged to Turner Utley and father wus +named Jacob Utley and mother wus named Lucy Utley. My maiden name wus Chaney +Utley. Dey wurked from sun to sun on de plantation.</p> + +<p>When de surrender come father an' mother come to town an' stayed about a year +an' den went back to ole marster's plantation. Dey wus fed a long time on +hardtack and pickled meat, by de Yankees, while in town. Dey stayed a long time +wid ole marster when dey got back. Mother wus his cook. Rats got after mother in +town an' she went back to marsters an' tole him 'bout it an' tole him she had +come back home, dat she wus fraid to stay in town an' marster jes' laughted an' +tole us all to come right in. He tole mother to go an' cook us all sumptin to eat +an' she did. We wus all glad to git back home.</p> + +<p>I wus too little to wurk much but I played a lot an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> swept yards. We drank water +outen gourds an' marster would tell me to bring him a gourd full of cool water +when he wus settin' in his arm chair on de porch. I thought big of waitin' on +marster, yes, dat I did.</p> + +<p>Dere wus fourteen of us in family, father, mother an' twelve chilluns. Dere is +three of us livin', two of de boys an' me.</p> + +<p>Slavery wus a good thing from what I knows 'bout it. While I liked de Yankees +wid dere purty clothes, I didn't like de way dey took marster's stuff an' I tole +'em so. Mother made me hush. Dey took chickens, meat, hogs an' horses.</p> + +<p>We finally left ole marster's plantation an' moved Jes' a little way over on +another plantation. Mother an' father died there.</p> + +<p>I married Sam Hews in Wake County when I wus fifteen years old. I had no +children. After we wus married we stayed on de farm a year or two den we moved to +Raleigh. We have wurked for white folks ever since, an' I am still wurkin' for +'em now all I am able. I washes an' irons clothes. Sometimes I can't wash, I +ain't able, but I does de bes' I can. De white folks is still good to me an' I +likes' em.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320158]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Joe High"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>1554</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Joe High</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Joe High</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class="hw">interesting first & last paragraph<br />glad slavery ended but loved Missus</span></p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 199px;"> +<img src="images/j_high.jpg" width="199" height="300" alt="j_high" title="Joe High" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> + + +<h4>JOE HIGH</h4> +<span class="hw">HW:—80 years</span> + +<p>Joe High interviewed May 18, 1937 has long been one of the best independent +gardners in Raleigh, working variously by the hour or day.</p> + +<p>My name is Joe High. I lives at 527 So. Haywood. St. Raleigh, N.C. Now dere is +one thing I want to know, is dis thing goin' to cost me anything. Hold on a +minute, and le' me see. I want to be square, and I must be square. Now le' me +see, le' me see sumpin'. Sometimes folks come here and dey writes and writes; den +dey asts me, is you goin' to pay dis now? What will it cost? Well, if it costs +nothin' I'll gib you what I knows.</p> + +<p>Let me git my Bible. I wants to be on de square, because I got to leave here +some of dese days. Dis is a record from de slave books. I've been tryin' to git +my direct age for 35 years. My cousin got my age. I wuz born April 10, 1857. My +mother's name wuz Sarah High. Put down when she wuz born, Oct. 24, 1824. This is +from the old slave books. We both belonged to Green High, the young master. The +old master, I nebber seed him; but I saw old missus, Mis' Laney High. The old +master died before I wuz born. We lived two miles north uv Zebulon. You know +where Zebulon is in Wake County? I had two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> brothers, one brother named +Taylor High, 'nother named Ruffin High. My sister died mighty young. She come +here wrong; she died. I' member seeing my uncle take her to the grave yard. I +don't know whe're there's enny rec'ord o' her or not.</p> + +<p>My work in slavery times wuz ridin' behin' my Missus, Clara Griffin, who wuz +my old missus' sister's daughter. She came to be our missus. When she went +visiting I rode behind her. I also looked atter de garden, kept chickens out uv +de garden, and minded de table, fanned flies off de table. They were good to us. +Dey whupped us sometime. I wuz not old enough to do no fiel' work.</p> + +<p>One time I slep' late. It wuz in the fall uv the year. The other chilluns had +lef' when I got up. I went out to look for 'em. When I crossed the tater patch I +seen the ground cracked and I dug in to see what cracked it. I found a tater and +kept diggin' till I dug it up. I carried it to the house. They had a white woman +for a cook that year. I carried the tater and showed it to her. She took me and +the tater and told me to come on. We went from the kitchen to the great house and +she showed the tater to the old missus sayin', 'Look here missus, Joe has been +stealin' taters. Here is the tater he stole'. Old missus said, 'Joe belongs to +me, the tater belongs to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> me, take it back and cook it for him. When the +cook cooked the tater she asked me for half uv it. I gave it to her. If I had +known den lak I knows now, she wuz tryin' to git me to git a whoppin' I wouldn't +'er give her none uv dat tater.</p> + +<p>There were some frame houses, an part log houses, we called 'em the darkey +houses. The master's house wuz called 'the great house'. We had very good places +to sleep and plenty to eat. I got plenty uv potlicker, peas, and pumpkins. All us +little darkies et out uv one bowl. We used mussel shells, got on the branch, for +spoons. Dey must not er had no spoons or sumpin. The pea fowls roosted on de +great house evey night. I didn't know whut money nor matches wuz neither.</p> + +<p>I 'member seein' Henry High, my first cousin, ketch a pike once, but I never +done no fishin' or huntin'. I 'member seein' the grown folks start off possum +huntin' at night, but I did not go.</p> + +<p>I wore wooden bottom shoes and I wore only a shirt. I went in my shirt tail +until I wuz a great big boy, many years atter slavery. There were 50 or more +slaves on the plantation. Old women wove cloth on looms. We made syrup, cane +syrup, with a cane mill. We carried our corn to Foster's Mill down on Little +River to have it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> ground. It wuz called Little River den; I don't know whut it is +called in dis day.</p> + +<p>There wuz a block in de yard, where missus got up on her horse. There were two +steps to it. Slaves were sold from this block. I 'member seein' them sold from +this block. George High wuz one, but they got him back.</p> + +<p>Dey did not teach us anything about books; dey did not teach us anything about +readin' and writin'. I went to church at the Eppsby Church near Buffalo, not far +from Wakefield. We sat in a corner to ourselves.</p> + +<p>My brother Taylor ran away. Young master sent him word to come on back home; +he won't goin' to whup him, and he come back. Yes, he come back.</p> + +<p>We played the games uv marbles, blind fold, jumpin', and racin', and jumpin' +the rope. The doctor looked atter us when we were sick, sometimes, but it wuz +mostly done by old women. Dey got erbs and dey gib us wormfuge. Dey worked us +out. I wuz not old enough to pay much attention to de doctor's name.</p> + +<p>I 'members one day my young master, Green High, and me wuz standin' in de +front yard when two men come down the avenue from de main road to the house. Dey +wanted to know how fer it wuz to Green High's. Master told 'em it wuz about 2 +miles away and gave 'em the direction. Dey were Yankees. Dey got on their horses +and left. Dey didn't know dey wuz talking to Green High then. When dey left,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> master left. +I didn't see him no more in a long time. Soon next day the yard wuz full uv +Yankee soldiers. I 'members how de buttons on dere uniforms shined. Dey got corn, +meat, chickens, and eveything they wanted. Day didn't burn the house.</p> + +<p>Old man Bert Doub or Domb kept nigger hounds. When a nigger run away he would +ketch him for de master. De master would send atter him and his dogs when a +nigger run away. I 'member one overseer, a Negro, Hamp High and another Coff +High. Nobody told me nothin' about being free and I knowed nothin' 'bout whut it +meant.</p> + +<p>I married Rosetta Hinton. She belonged to the Hintons during slavery. She is +dead; she's been dead fourteen years. We were married at her mother's home; the +river plantation belonging to the Hintons. I wuz married by a preacher at this +home. Atter the wedding we had good things to eat and we played games. All stayed +there that night and next day we went back to whar I wuz workin' on de Gen. Cox's +farm. I wuz workin' dere. We had 6 chillun. Two died at birth. All are dead +except one in Durham named Tommie High and one in New York City. Tommie High +works in a wheat mill. Eddie High is a cashermiser, (calciminer) works on +walls.</p> + +<p>I thought slavery wuz right. I felt that this wuz the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> way things had to go, the way +they were fixed to go. I wuz satisfied. The white folks treated me all right. My +young missus loved me and I loved her. She whupped me sometimes. I think just for +fun sometimes, when I wuz ridin' behind her, she would tell me to put my arms +around her and hold to her apron strings. One day she wuz sittin' on the side +saddle; I wuz sittin' behind her. She wud try to git old Dave, the horse she wuz +a ridin to walk; she would say, 'Ho Dave', den I wud kick de horse in de side and +she wud keep walkin' on. She asked me, 'Joe, why does Dave not want to stop?'</p> + +<p>I saw a lot of Yankees, I wuz afraid of 'em. They called us Johnnie, Susie, +and tole us they wouldn't hurt us.</p> + +<p>I think Abraham Lincoln is all right, I guess, the way he saw it. I think he +was like I wuz as a boy from what I read, and understand; he wuz like me jest the +way he saw things. I liked the rules, and ways o' my old master and missus, while +the Yankees and Abraham Lincoln gave me more rest.</p> + +<p>How did I learn to read? Atter de war I studies. I wonts ter read de hymms an' +songs. I jis picks up de readin' myself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span></p> + +<p>It's quare to me, I cannot remember one word my mother ever said to me, not +nary a word she said can I remember. I remember she brought me hot potlicker and +bread down to the house of mornings when I wuz small; but I'se been tryin to +'member some words she spoke to me an' I cain't.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320246]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Susan High"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>936</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>SUSAN HIGH</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Susan High</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> + +<h4>SUSAN HIGH</h4> + +<h5>519 Haywood Street<br /> +Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>My name is Susan High. I wus born in June. I am 70 years old. My mother wus +named Piety an' she belonged to de ole man Giles Underhill before de surrender. +My father he wus George Merritt an' he belonged to Ben Merritt, Ivan Proctor's +grandfather. Dey lived on a plantation near Eagle Rock, Wake County. Dey called +de creek near by Mark's Creek.</p> + +<p>My parents said dat dey had a mighty hard time, an' dat durin' slavery time, +de rules wus mighty strict. De hours of work on de farm wus from sun to sun wid +no time 'cept at Christmas and at lay-by time, 4th of July for anything but work. +Dey were not 'lowed no edication, and very little time to go to church. Sometimes +de went to de white folks church. Mother said dey whupped de slaves if dey broke +de rules.</p> + +<p>Dey said de overseers were worse den de slave owners. De overseers were +ginerally white men hired by de marster. My father said dey had poor white men to +overseer, and de slave owner would go on about his business and sometimes didn't +know an' didn't eben care how mean de overseer wus to de slaves.</p> + +<p>Dere wus a lot o' things to drink, dey said, cider, made from apples, whiskey, +an' brandy. Dey said people didn't notice it lak dey do now, not many got drunk, +cause dere wus plenty of it. Father said it wus ten cents a quart, dat is de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> whiskey made +outen corn, and de brandy wus cheap too.</p> + +<p>Dey said de clothes were wove, an' dat mos' chillun went barefooted, an' in +dere shirt tails; great big boys, goin' after de cows, and feedin' de horses, an' +doin' work around de house in deir shirt tails. Grown slaves got one pair o' +shoes a year an' went barefooted de res' o' de time. Biscuit wus a thing dey +seldom got.</p> + +<p>Women cleared land by rollin' logs into piles and pilin' brush in de new +grounds. Dey were 'lowed patches, but dey used what dey made to eat. Daddy said +dey didn't have time to fish and hunt any. Dey were too tired for dat. Dey had to +work so hard.</p> + +<p>Daddy said he wus proud o' freedom, but wus afraid to own it. Dey prayed fer +freedom secretly. When de Yankees come daddy saved a two horse wagon load of meat +for marster by takin' it off in de swamp and hidin' it, an' den marster wouldn't +give him nary bit uv it. After de surrender, dey turned him out wid a crowd o' +little chillun wid out a thing. Dey give him nothin'. My mother saved her +marster's life, Charles Underhill.</p> + +<p>Well you see he wus takin' care uv a lot o' meat and whiskey for Dick Jordon, +an' de Yankees come an' he treated 'em from whiskey he had in a bottle, an' tole +'em he had no more. Dey searched his home an' found it in a shed room, an' den +dey said dey were goin' to kill him for tellin' 'em a lie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> She +<ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: heard">herd</ins> 'em talkin' and she busted through +de crowd and told 'em dat de stuff belonged to anudder man and dat her marster +was not lyin', an' not to hurt 'im. De Yankees said, 'You have saved dis ole son +of a bitch, we won't kill' em den.' Dey took all de meat, whiskey, an' everything +dey wanted. Marster promised mother a cow, and calf, a sow, and pigs for what she +had done for him an' to stay on an' finish de crop. When de fall o' de year come +he did not give her de wrappin's o' her finger. Dat's what my mudder tole me. We +wus teached to call 'em mammie and pappie. I is gwine to tell you just zackly +like it is we were taught dese things. I wants to be pasidefily right in what I +tell you.</p> + +<p>We lef' dat place an' mammie an' pappie farmed wid Solomon Morgan a Free Issue +for several years. De family had typhoid fever an' five were down with it at one +time. But de Lawd will provide. Sich as dat makes me say people wont die till +deir time comes. Dere is some mighty good white people in dis place in America, +and also bad. If it hadn't been for 'em we colored folks would have ben in a +mighty bad fix. We got our jobs and help from 'em to git us to de place we are +at. Dr. Henry Montague doctored us and none died. It wusn't dere time to go. No, +no, hit wasn't deir time to go. We then moved back to Marster's for a year, and +then we moved to Rolesville in Wake County.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span></p> + +<p>I married den and moved to Raleigh. I married Robert High. He is dead. He been +dead 'bout 30 years. I don't know much 'bout Abraham Lincoln I think he wus a +fine man. Mr. Roosevelt's ideas is fine if he can carry 'em out.</p> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320084]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Kitty Hill"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>878</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>KITTY HILL</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Kitty Hill</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 17 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> + +<h4>KITTY HILL</h4> + +<h5>329 West South Street, Raleigh, North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I tole you yisterday dat my age wus 76 years old, but my daughter come home, +an' I axed her' bout it an' she say I is 77 years old. I don't know exactly the +date but I wus born in April. I wus a little girl 'bout five years ole when de +surrender come, but I don't' member anything much' bout de Yankees.</p> + +<p>I wus born in Virginia, near Petersburg, an' mother said de Yankees had been +hanging' round dere so long dat a soldier wus no sight to nobody.</p> + +<p>'Bout de time de Yankees come I' member hearin' dem talk 'bout de surrender. +Den a Jew man by the name of Isaac Long come to Petersburg, bought us an' brought +us to Chatham County to a little country town, named Pittsboro. Ole man Isaac +Long run a store an' kept a boarding house. We stayed on de lot. My mother +cooked. We stayed there a long time atter de war. Father wus sent to Manassas Gap +at the beginning of de war and I do not 'member ever seein' him.</p> + +<p>My mother wus named Viney Jefferson an' my father wus named Thomas Jefferson. +We 'longed to the Jeffersons there and we went by the name of Jefferson when we +wus sold and brought to N.C. I do not 'member my grandparents on my mother's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> or father's +side. Mother had one boy an' three girls. The boy wus named Robert, an' the girls +were Kate, Rosa and Kitty. Marster Long bought mother an' all de chilluns, but +mother never seed father anymore atter he wus sent off to de war.</p> + +<p>I married Green Hill in Chatham County. I married him at Moncure about nine +miles from Pittsboro. We lived at Moncure and mother moved there an' we lived +together for a long time. When we left Moncure we come ter Raleigh. Mother had +died long time 'fore we left Moncure, Chatham County. We moved ter Raleigh atter +de World War.</p> + +<p>Mother used ter tell we chilluns stories of patterollers ketchin' niggers an' +whuppin' 'em an' of how some of de men outrun de patterollers an' got away. Dere +wus a song dey used to sing, it went like dis. Yes sir, ha! ha! I wants ter tell +you dat song, here it is:</p> + +<p>'Somefolks say dat a nigger wont steal, I caught two in my corn field, one had a bushel, one had a +peck, an' one had rosenears, strung 'round his neck. 'Run nigger run, Patteroller +ketch you, run nigger run like you did de udder day.'</p> + +<p>My mother said she wus treated good. Yes she said dey wus good ter her in +Virginia. Mother said de slave men on de Jefferson plantation in Virginia would +steal de hosses ter ride ter dances at night. One time a hoss dey stole an' rode +ter a dance fell dead an' dey tried ter tote him home. Mother laughted a lot +about dat. I heard my mother say dat de cavalry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> southern folks was bout de +meanest in de war. She talked a lot about Wheeler's cavalry.</p> + +<p>Dere wus a lot of stealin' an' takin' meat, silver, stock an' anything. +Hosses, cows an' chickens jist didn't have no chance if a Yankee laid his eyes on +'em. A Yankee wus pisen to a yard full of fowls. Dey killed turkeys, chickens and +geese. Now dats de truth. Mother said de Yankees skinned turkeys, chickens and +geese 'fore dey cooked 'em. Sometimes dey would shoot a hog an' jist take de hams +an' leave de rest dere to spile. Dey would kill a cow, cut off de quarters an' +leave de rest ter rot.</p> + +<p>Mother said no prayer meetings wus allowed de slaves in Virginia where she +stayed. Dey turned pots down ter kill de noise an' held meetings at night. Dey +had niggers ter watch an' give de alarm if dey saw de white folks comin'. Dey +always looked out for patterollers. Dey were not allowed any edication an' mother +could not read and write nuther.</p> + +<p>I 'member de Ku Klux an' how dey beat people. One night a man got away from +'em near whar we lived in Chatham County. He lived out in de edge of de woods; +and when dey knocked on de door he jumped out at a back window in his night +clothes wid his pants in his hands an' outrun 'em. Dere wus rocks in de woods +whar he run an' dat nigger jist tore his feet up. Dey went ter one nigger's house +up dere an' de door' wus barred up. Dey got a ax an' cut a hole in de door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span> When de hole +got big enough de nigger blammed down on 'em wid a gun an' shot one of dere eyes +out. You know de Ku Klux went disguised an' when dey got ter your house dey would +say in a fine voice, Ku Klux, Ku Klux, Ku Klux, Ku Klux.</p> + +<p>Some people say dey are in slavery now an' dat de niggers never been +in nothin' else; but de way some of it wus I believe it wus a bad +thing. Some slaves fared all right though an' had a good time an' +liked slavery.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320218]</div> +<div class="left"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Jerry Hinton"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>997</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>JERRY HINTON</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Jerry Hinton</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span> + +<h4>JERRY HINTON</h4> + +<p>My full name is Jerry Hinton. I wus borned in February, 1855. I am not able +ter work. I work all I can. I am trying ter do de best I can ter help myself. +Yes, just tryin' ter do sumpin, ain't able ter work much. I am ruptured, an' old. +My old house looks 'bout old as I do, it's 'bout to fall down, ain't able ter fix +it up. It needs repairing. I ain't able ter make no repairs.</p> + +<p>I wus born on a plantation in Wake County. My master wus Richard Seawell, an' +Missus wus named Adelaide. His plantation wus on Neuse River. He had two +plantations, but I wus a little boy, an' don't remember how many acres in de +plantation or how many slaves. There wus a lot of 'em tho'. I would follow master +'round an' look up in his face so he would give me biscuit an' good things ter +eat.</p> + +<p>My mother, before marriage, wus named Silvia Seawell, an' father wus named +Andrew Hinton. Atter they wus married mother went by the name of Hinton, my +father's family name. I had—I don't know—mos' anything wus good ter +me. Master brought me biscuit an' I thought that wus the greatest thing at all. +Yes, I got purty good food.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span> Our clothes wus not fine, but warm. I went +barefooted mos' o' the time, an' in summer I went in my shirt tail.</p> + +<p>Dey called de slave houses 'quarters', de house where de overseer lived wus de +'Overseer's House'. Master had a overseer to look atter his men; De overseer wus +named Bridgers. De house where Master lived wus de 'Great House'.</p> + +<p>Dey would not allow us any books. I cannot read an' write. I have seen de +patterollers, but I neber saw' em whip nobody; but I saw' em lookin' fer somebody +ter whup. I've neber seen a slave sold. I've neber seen a jail fer slaves or +slaves in chains. I have seen master whup slaves though. I wus neber whupped. Dey +wrung my ears an' pulled my nose to punish me.</p> + +<p>Dere wus no churches on de plantation, but we had prayer meetin's in our +homes. We went to de white folks church. My father used to take me by de hand an' +carry me ter church. Daddy belonged ter de Iron Side Baptist Church. We called +our fathers 'daddy' in slavery time. Dey would not let slaves call deir fathers +'father'. Dey called 'em 'daddy', an' white children called deir father, 'Pa'. I +didn't work any in slavery time, 'cept feed pigs, an' do things fer my master; +waited on him. I went 'round wid him a lot, an' I had rather see him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> come on de +plantation any time dan to see my daddy. I do not remember any possums or other +game being eaten at our house. I do not remember eber goin' a-fishin durin' +slavery time.</p> + +<p>Master had two boys ter go off ter de war. Dey carried 'em off ter de war. I +don't know how many children dey had, but I remember two of 'em goin' off ter de +war. Don't know what became of 'em.</p> + +<p>I shore remember de Yankees. Yes sir, Ha! ha! I shore remember dem. Dem +Yankees tore down an' drug out ever'thing, dey come across. Dey killed hogs, an' +chickens. Dey took only part of a hog an' lef' de rest. Dey shot cows, an' +sometimes jest cut off de hind quarters an' lef de rest. Dey knocked de heads out +o' de barrels o' molasses. Dey took horses, cows an' eber'thing, but they did not +hurt any o' de children. Dey wus folks dat would tear down things.</p> + +<p>Atter de surrender my mother moved over on de plantation where my father +stayed. We stayed dere a long time, an' den we moved back to Richard Seawell's, +old master's plantation, stayin' dere a long time. Den we moved to Jessie +Taylor's place below Raleigh between Crabtree Creek an' Neuse River. When we lef' +Taylor's we moved ter Banner Dam northeast of Raleigh near Boone's Pond. Mother +an' father both died dere. Atter leaving dere I come here.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span> I have lived +in Oberlin ebery since. Guess I'll die here; if I can git de money to pay my +taxes, I know I will die here.</p> + +<p>I think slavery wus good because I wus treated all right. I think I am 'bout +as much a slave now as ever.</p> + +<p>I don't think any too much o' Abraham Lincoln, Jeff Davis or any o' dem men. +Don't know much 'bout 'em. Guess Mr. Roosevelt is all right. 'Bout half the folks +both black an' white is slaves an' don't know it. When I wus a slave I had +nothin' on me, no responsibility on any of us, only to work. Didn't have no taxes +to pay, neber had to think whur de next meal wus comin' from.</p> + +<p>Dis country is in a bad fix. Looks like sumptin got to be done someway or +people, a lot of 'em, are goin' to parish to death. Times are hard, an' dey is +gettin' worse. Don't know how I am goin' to make it, if I don't git some help. We +been prayin' fer rain. Crops are done injured, but maybe de Lawd will help us. +Yes, I trust in de Lawd.</p> + +<p>I been married twice. I married Henritta Nunn first, an' den Henritta Jones. I +had three children by first marriage, an' none <ins class="edcorr" title="original b">bi</ins> +second marriage. My wife is over seventy years old. We have a hard time making +enough to git a little sumptin to eat. I wus mighty glad to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span> you when you +come up dis mornin', an' I hopes what I have told you will help some one to know +how bad we need help. I feels de Lawd will open up de way. Yes sir, I do.</p> + +<p><small>LE</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320179]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Martha Adeline Hinton"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>568</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>MARTHA ADELINE HINTON</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Martha Adeline Hinton</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b><span class="hw">HW Date "8/31/37"</span></b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> + +<h4>MARTHA ADELINE HINTON</h4> + +<h5>#2—Star St., Route 2, Raleigh, North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I wus born May 3, 1861 at Willis Thompson's plantation in Wake County about +fifteen miles from Raleigh. He wus my marster an' his wife Muriel wus my missus. +My father's name wus Jack Emery an' mother's name was Minerva Emery. My mother +belonged to Willis Thompson and my father belonged to Ephriam Emery. Mother +stayed with my marster's married daughter. She married Johnny K. Moore.</p> + +<p>Marster had three children, all girls; dere names wus Margaret, Caroline and +Nancy. There wus only one slave house dere 'cause dey only had one slave whur my +mother stayed. Marster Thompson had five slaves on his plantation. He wus good to +slaves but his wife wus rough. We had a <ins class="edcorr" title="HW correction: reasonably">resonably</ins> good place to sleep an' fair sumptin to eat. You sees I wus +mighty young an' I members very little 'bout some things in slavery but from what +my mother an father tole me since de war it wus just 'bout middlin' livin' at +marster's. Slaves wore homemade clothes an' shoes. De shoes had wooden bottoms +but most slave chilluns went barefooted winter an' summer till dey wus ole 'nough +to go to work. De first pair of shoes I wore my daddy made 'em. I 'member it +well. I will never furgit it, I wus so pleased wid 'em. All slave chillun I knows +anything 'bout wore homemade clothes an' went barefooted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> most of the time an' bareheaded +too.</p> + +<p>I member de Yankees an' how dey had rods searchin' for money an' took things. +I members a Yankee goin' to mother an' sayin' we was free. When he lef' missus +come an' axed her what he say to her an' mother tole missus what he said an' +missus says 'No he didn't tell you you is free, you jes axed him wus you free.' +Father wus hired out to Frank Page of Gary. He wus cuttin cord wood for him, when +he heard de Yankees wus coming he come home. When he got dere de Yankees had done +been to de house an' gone.</p> + +<p>Durin' slavery dey tried to sell daddy. De speculator wus dere an 'daddy +suspicion sumpin. His marster tole him to go an' shuck some corn. Dey aimed to +git him in de corn crib an' den tie him an' sell him but when he got to the crib +he kept on goin'. He went to Mr. Henry Buffaloe's an' stayed two weeks den he +went back home. Dere wus nuthin' else said 'bout sellin him. Dey wanted to sell +him an buy a 'oman so dey could have a lot of slave chilluns cause de 'oman could +multiply. Dey hired men out by the year to contractors to cut cord wood an' build +railroads. Father wus hired out dat way. Ole man Rome Harp wus hired out day way. +He belonged to John Harp.</p> + +<p>Daddy said his marster never did hit him but one blow. Daddy said he wurked +hard everyday, an' done as near right as he knowed how to do in everything. His +marster got mad ah' hit him wid a long switch. Den daddy tole him he wus workin' +bes' he could for him an' dat he wus not goin' to take a whuppin. His marster +walked off an' dat wus de last of it, an' he never tried to whup him again.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320225]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Robert Hinton"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>775</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>ROBERT HINTON</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Robert Hinton</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> + +<h4>ROBERT HINTON</h4> + +<h5>420 Smith Street, Raleigh, N.C.</h5> + +<p>My name is Robert Hinton. I ain't able to work, ain't been able to do any work +in five years. My wife, Mary Hinton, supports me by workin' with the WPA. She was +cut off las' May. Since she has had no job, we have to live on what she makes +with what little washin' she gets from de white folks; an' a little help from +charity; dis ain't much. Dey give you for one week, one half peck meal, one pound +meat, one pound powdered milk, one half pound o' coffee. Dis is what we git for +one week.</p> + +<p>I wus borned in 1856 on de Fayetteville Road three miles from Raleigh, south. +I belonged to Lawrence Hinton. My missus wus named Jane Hinton. De Hintons had +'bout twenty slaves on de plantation out dere. Dey had four chillun, de boy +Ransom an' three girls: Belle, Annie an' Miss Mary. All are dead but one, Miss +Mary is livin' yit. My mother wus named Liza Hinton an' my father wus named Bob +Hinton. My gran'mother wus named Mary Hinton an' gran'father Harry Hinton.</p> + +<p>We had common food in slavery time, but it wus well fixed up, an' we were well +clothed. We had a good place to sleep, yes sir, a good place to sleep. We worked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span> +from sunrise to sunset under overseers. Dey were good to us. I wus small at dat +time. I picked up sticks in de yard an' done some work around de house, but when +dey turned deir backs I would be playin' most o' de time. We played shootin' +marbles, an' runnin', an' jumpin'. We called de big house de dwelling house an' +de slave quarters de slave houses. Some of 'em were in marster's yard and some +were outside. Dey give all de families patches and gardens, but dey did not sell +anything.</p> + +<p>We had prayer meetin' in our houses when we got ready, but dere were no +churches for niggers on de plantation. We had dances and other socials durin' +Christmas times. Dey give us de Christmas holidays.</p> + +<p>No sir, dey did not whup me. I wus mighty young. Dey didn't work chillun much. +I have seen 'em whup de grown ones do'. I never saw a slave sold and never saw +any in chains. Dey run away from our plantation but dey come back again. William +Brickell, Sidney Cook, Willis Hinton all run away. I don't know why dey all run +away but some run away to keep from being whupped.</p> + +<p>I have lived in North Carolina all my life, right here in Wake County. We used +to set gums and catch rabbits, set traps and caught patridges and doves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yes sir, I went blindin'. I 'members gittin' a big light an' jumpin' 'round de +bresh heaps, an' when a bird come out we frailed him down. We went gigging fish +too. We found 'em lying on de bottom o' de creeks an' ponds at night, an' stuck +de gig in 'em an' pulled 'em out.</p> + +<p>De white folks, ole missus, teached us de catechism, but dey didn't want you +to learn to read and write. I can read and write now; learned since de surrender. +Sometimes we went to de white folks church. I don't know any songs.</p> + +<p>When we got sick our boss man sent for a doctor, Dr. Burke Haywood, Dr. +Johnson, or Dr. Hill.</p> + +<p>I 'members when de North folks and de Southern folks wus fightin'. De Northern +soldiers come in here on de Fayetteville Road. I saw 'em by de hundreds. Dey had +colored folks soldiers in blue clothes too. In de mornin' white soldiers, in de +evenin' colored soldiers; dats de way dey come to town.</p> + +<p>I married first Almeta Harris. I had six children by her. Second, I married +Mary Jones. She is my wife now. We had six children. My wife is now 65 years old +and she has to support me. I am done give out too much to work any more.</p> + +<p>Yes sir, that I have seen de patterollers, but my old boss didn't 'low 'em to +whup his niggers. Marster give his men passes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span></p> + +<p>I know when de Ku Klux was here, but I don't know much about 'em.</p> + +<p>I thought slavery wus a bad thing' cause all slaves did not fare alike. It wus +all right for some, but bad for some, so it wus a bad thing.</p> + +<p>I joined the church because I got religion and thought the church might help +me keep it.</p> + +<p>I think Abraham Lincoln wus a good man, but I likes Mr. Roosevelt; he is a +good man, a good man.</p> + +<p><small>AC</small></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320048]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="William George Hinton"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>922</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>WILLIAM GEORGE HINTON</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>William George Hinton</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>G. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b><span class="hw">HW Date: "8/31/37"</span></b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span> + +<h4>WILLIAM GEORGE HINTON</h4> + +<h5>Star Street, R. F. D. #2, Box 171</h5> + +<p>I was born in Wake County in de year 1859. August 28th. I 'members seeing de +Yankees, it seems like a dream. One come along ridin' a mule. Dey sed he wus a +Yankee bummer, a man dat went out raging on peoples things. He found out whur the +things wus located an' carried the rest there. The bummers stole for de army, +chickens, hogs, an' anything they could take. Atter de bummer come along in a few +minutes de whole place wus crowded wid Yankees. De blue coats wus everywhere I +could look.</p> + +<p>Marster didn't have but five slaves, an' when de Yankees come dere wus only me +an' my oldest sister dere. All de white folks had left except missus and her +chillun. Her baby wus only three weeks ole then.</p> + +<p>A Yankee come to my oldest sister an' said, 'Whur is dem horses?' He pulled +out a large pistol an' sed, 'Tell me whur dem horses is or I will take your damn +sweet life.' Marster hid de horses an' sister didn't know, she stuck to it she +didn't know an' de Yankees didn't shoot.</p> + +<p>Dey come back, de whole crowd, de next day an' made marster bring in his +horses. Bey took de horses an' bought some chickens an' paid for 'em, den dey +killed an' took de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> rest. Ha! ha! dey shore done dat. Paid for some an' took de +rest.</p> + +<p>I seed de Yankees atter de surrender. Dey wus staying at de ole Soldiers Home +on New Bern Avenue. One day mother carried me there to sell to 'em. One time she +went there an' she had a rooster who wus a game. His eyes wus out from fighting +another game rooster belonging to another person near our home, Mr. Emory Sewell. +She carried de rooster in where dere wus a sick Yankee. De Yankee took him in his +hands an' de rooster crowed. He give mother thirty-five cents for him. De Yankee +said if he could crow an' his eyes out he wanted him. He said, he called dat +spunk.</p> + +<p>Dere wus a man who wus a slave dat belonged to Mr. Kerney Upchurch come along +riding a mule. My oldest sister, de one de Yankees threatened, tole him de +Yankees are up yonder. He said, 'Dad lim de Yankees.' He went on, when he got +near de Yankees dey tole him to halt.' Instead of haltin' he sold out runnin' the +mule fur de ole field. Der wus a gang of young fox hounds dere. When he lit out +on de mule, dey thought he wus goin' huntin' so dey took out atter him, jest like +dey wus atter a fox. Some of de Yankees shot at him, de others just almost died a +laughin'.</p> + +<p>We didn't git much to eat. Mother said it wus missus fault, she was so +stingy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span></p> + +<p>We had homemade clothes an' wooden bottom shoes for de grown folks, but +chillun did not wear shoes den, dey went barefooted.</p> + +<p>All de slaves lived in one house built about one hundred yards from the great +house, marsters house wus called the great house.</p> + +<p>My father wus named Robin Hinton an' my mother wus named Dafney Hinton. My +father belonged to Betsy Ransom Hinton an' mother belonged first to Reddin Cromb +in Lenoir County an' then to James Thompson of Wake County. I wus borned after +mother wus brought to Wake County. Marster had one boy named Beuregard, four +girls, Caroline, Alice, Lena and Nellie. I do not remember my grandparents.</p> + +<p>I saw a slave named Lucinda, sold to ole man Askew, a speculator, by Kerney +Upchurch. I seed 'em carry her off.</p> + +<p>One of de slave men who belonged to ole man Burl Temples wus sent to wurk for +Mr. Temples' son who had married. His missus put him to totin' water before goin' +to wurk in de mornin'. Three other slaves toted water also. He refused to tote +water an' ran. She set de blood hounds atter him an' caught him near his home, +which wus his ole marster's house. Ole marster's son come out, an' wouldn't let +'em whup him, an' they wouldn't make him go back.</p> + +<p>Missus Harriet Temples wus a terrible 'oman, a slave jest couldn't suit her. +De slave dat run away from young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span> marster wus finally sent back. His marster give +him a shoulder of meat before he left. He hung it in a tree. Missus tole him to +put it in the smoke house. He refused, sayin' he would see it no more.</p> + +<p>A slave by the name of Sallie Temples run away 'cause her missus, Mary +Temples, wus so mean to her. She stuck hot irons to her. Made 'em drink milk an' +things for punishment is what my mother an' father said. Sallie never did come +back. Nobody never did know what become of her.</p> + +<p>Soon as de war wus over father an' mother left dere marsters. Dey went to Mr. +Tom Bridgers. We lived on de farm atter dis. Mother cooked, sister an' I worked +on de farm. Sister plowed like a man. De first help my mammy got wus from de +Yankees, it wus pickle meat an' hardtack. I wus wid her an' dey took me in an' +give me some clothes. Mother drawed from 'em a long time. We have farmed most our +lives. Sometimes we worked as hirelings and den as share croppers. I think +slavery wus a bad thing.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320116]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Eustace Hodges"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>465</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Eustace Hodges</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Eustace Hodges</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Geo. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 6 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> + +<h4>EUSTACE HODGES</h4> + +<h5>An interview with Eustace Hodges, 76 years old, of 625 W. Lenoir Street, +Raleigh, North Carolina.</h5> + +<p>I doan know when I wus borned, ner where but at fust my mammy an' me 'longed +ter a McGee here in Wake County. My mammy wurked in de fiel's den, ditchin' an' +such, even plowin' while we 'longed ter McGee, but he sold us ter Mr. Rufus +Jones. My daddy still 'longed ter him but at de close of de war he comed ter Mr. +Jones' plantation an' he tuck de name of Jones 'long wid us.</p> + +<p>Marse Rufus wus gooder dan Marse McGee, dey said. He give us more ter eat an' +wear an' he ain't make us wurk so hard nother. We had our wurk ter do, of course, +but mammy ain't had ter ditch ner plow no mo'. She wurked in de house den, an' +none of de wimmen done men's wurk. Course she can't wurk so hard an' have 'leben +chilluns too. She had a baby one day an' went ter wurk de nex' while she 'longed +ter McGee, but at Marse Rufus' she stayed in de bed seberal days an' had a +doctor.</p> + +<p>Marse Rufus uster let us take Sadday evenin' off an' go swimmin' er fishin' er +go ter Raleigh. I 'members<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> dat somebody in town had a fuss wid Marse Rufus +'bout lettin' his niggers run loose in town. Marse Rufus atter dat had a oberseer +in town ter see 'bout his niggers.</p> + +<p>I got a whuppin' once fer punchin' out a frog's eyes. Miss Sally giv' hit ter +me long wid a lecture 'bout bein' kin' ter dumb brutes, but I ain't neber seed +whar a frog am a brute yit.</p> + +<p>Yes'um I heard a heap 'bout de Yankees but I ain't prepared fer dere takin' +eben our bread. Miss Sally ain't prepared nother an' she tells' em whar ter go, +den she goes ter bed sick. I wus sorry fer Miss Sally, dat I wus.</p> + +<p>De day dat news of de surrender come Miss Sally cried some more an' she ain't +wanted mammy ter go, so Marse Rufus said dat we can stay on. Dey said dat Mister +McGee runned his niggers offen his place wid a bresh broom dat day.</p> + +<p>Atter de war we stayed on Marse Rufus' place till 1898 when pa died. I had +married a feller by de name of Charlie Hodges, what lived on a nearby plantation +an' we wus livin' on Marse Rufus' place wid pa an' ma. We moved ter Raleigh den +an' atter seberal years mammy moved hear too. You can fin' her on Cannon Street, +but I'll tell you dat she's pretty puny now, since her stroke.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320195]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Alex Huggins"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs. Edith S. Hibbs and Mrs. W. N. Harriss</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>795</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Alex Huggins' Story</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Alex Huggins</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><b>920 Dawson St, Wilmington, N.C.</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mrs W. N. Harriss</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> + +<h4>STORY OF ALEX HUGGINS, EX-SLAVE</h4> + +<h5>920 Dawson Street, Wilmington, N.C.</h5> + +<p>I was born in New Bern on July 9, 1850. My father and mother belonged to Mr. +L. B. Huggins. My father was a carpenter and ship builder an' the first things I +remember was down on Myrtle Grove Sound, where Mr. Huggins had a place. I was a +sort of bad boy an' liked to roam 'round. When I was about twelve years old I ran +away. It was in 1863 when the war was goin' on.</p> + +<p>Nobody was bein' mean to me. No, I was'nt bein' whipped. Don't you know all +that story 'bout slaves bein' whipped is all <span class="u">Bunk</span>, (with +scornful emphasis). What pusson with any sense is goin' to take his horse or his +cow an' beat it up. It's prope'ty. We was prope'ty. Val'able prope'ty. No, +indeed, Mr. Luke give the bes' of attention to his colored people, an' Mis' +Huggins was like a mother to my mother. Twa'nt anythin' wrong about home that +made me run away. I'd heard so much talk 'bout freedom I reckon I jus' wanted to +try it, an' I thought I had to get away from home to have it.</p> + +<p>Well, I coaxed two other boys to go with me, an' a grown man he got the boat +an' we slipped off to the beach an' put out to sea. Yes'm, we sho' was after +adventure. But, we did'n get very far out from sho', an' I saw the lan' get +dimmer an' dimmer, when I got skeered, an' then I got seasick,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span> an' we was +havin' more kinds of adventure than we wanted, an' then we saw some ships. There +was two of 'em, an' they took us on board.</p> + +<p>They was the North Star an' the Eastern Star of the Aspinwal Line, a mail an' +freighter runnin' between Aspinwal near the Isthmus of Panama and New York. We +used to put in off Charleston.</p> + +<p>Then, in 1864 I joined the Union Navy. Went on board our convoy, the Nereus. +We convoyed to keep the Alabama, a Confederate privateer, away. The Commander of +the Nereus asked me how's I like to be his cabin boy. So I was 2nd class cabin +boy an' waited on the Captain. He was Five Stripe Commander J. C. Howell. He was +Commander of the whole fleet off Fort Fisher. When the Captain wanted somethin' +good to eat he used to send me ashore for provisions. He liked me. He was an old +man. He didn't take much stock in fun, but he was a real man. I was young an' +was'nt serious. I jus' wanted a good time. I don't know much about the war, but I +do know two men of our boat was killed on shore while we was at Fort Fisher.</p> + +<p>After the battle of Fort Fisher, we was on our way to Aspinwal. Layin' off one +day at Navassa Island, the Mast Head reported a strange sail. 'Where away?' 'Just +ahead'. 'She seems to be a three mast steamer!' 'Which way headed?' We decided it +was the Alabama going to St. Nicholas Mole, West Indies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span></p> + +<p>Our Captain called the officers together an' held a meetin'. Says he: 'We'll +go under one bell (slow). Lieutenant will go ashore an' get some information.' +When we got there she had a coal schooner alongside taking on coal. Our Captain +prepared to capture her when she came out. But she did'n come out 'til night. She +dodged. Good thing too. She'd a knocked hells pete out o' us. She was close to +the water and could have fought us so much better than we could her. We didn't +want to fight 'cause we knowed enough to jest natu'ally be skeered. She was a one +decker man o' war. We was a two decker with six guns on berth deck, an' five guns +on spar deck. I never saw her after that, but I heard she was contacted by the +Kearsage which sunk her off some island.</p> + +<p>I stayed in the navy eighteen months. Was discharged at the Brooklyn Navy +Yard. Admiral Porter was Admiral of the U. S. Navy at that time.</p> + +<p>I stayed in New York five or six years, then I cane home to my mother. I was +in the crude drug business in Wilmington for twenty years.</p> + +<p>Yes'm I went to church and Sunday school when I was a child, when they could +ketch me. Whilst I was in New York I went to church regular.</p> + +<p>I married after awhile. My wife died about ten years ago. We had one son. I +b'lieve he's in Baltimore, but I ain't heard from him in a long time. He don't +keer nothin' about me. Of co'se I'm comfortable. I gits my pension, $75 a month. +I give $10 of it to my nephew who's a cripple.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320124]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Charlie H. Hunter"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>T. Pat Matthews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>645</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>CHARLIE H. HUNTER</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Person Interviewed:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Charlie H. Hunter</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Geo. L. Andrews</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"AUG 4 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> + +<h4>CHARLIE H. HUNTER, 80 years old,</h4> + +<h5>2213 Barker Street<br /> +West Raleigh</h5> + +<p>My full name is Charlie H. Hunter. I wus borned an' reared in Wake County, +N.C., born May, 1857. My mother wus Rosa Hunter an' my father wus named Jones. I +never saw my father. We belonged to a family named Jones first, an' then we wus +sold to a slave owner seven miles Northwest by the name Joe Hayes an' a terrible +man he wus. He would get mad 'bout most anything, take my mother, chain her down +to a log and whup her unmercifully while I, a little boy, could do nothing but +stan' there an' cry, an' see her whupped. We had fairly good food an' common +clothing. We had good sleeping places. My mother wus sold to a man named Smith. I +married first Annie Hayes who lived sixteen months.</p> + +<p>No prayer meetings wus allowed on de plantations an' no books of any kind. I +can read an' write, learned in a school taught by Northern folks after the +surrender, Mr. an' Mrs. Graves who taught in Raleigh in the rear of the African +Methodist Episcopal church. The school house wus owned by the church. We played +no games in slavery times. I saw slaves sold on the block once in Raleigh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span></p> + +<p>I wus to be sold but the surrender stopped it. When the Yankees come they +asked me where wus my marster. I told them I didn't know. Marster told me not to +tell where he wus. He had gone off into the woods to hide his silver. In a few +minutes the ground wus covered with Yankees. The Yankees stole my pen knife. I +thought a lot of it. Knives wus scarce and hard to get. I cried about they taking +it. They got my marster's carriage horses, two fine gray horses. His wife had +lost a brother, who had been in the army but died at home. He wus buried in the +yard. The Yankees thought the grave wus a place where valuables wus buried and +they had to get a guard to keep them from diggin' him up. They would shoot hogs, +cut the hams and shoulders off, stick them on their bayonetts, throw them over +the'r shoulders an' go on.</p> + +<p>We called our houses shanties in slavery time. I never saw any patterollers. I +don't remember how many slaves on the plantation wus taken to Richmond an' sold. +My mother looked after us when we wus sick. I had four brothers an' no sisters. +They are all dead. I did house work an' errands in slavery time. I have seen one +gang of Ku Klux. They wus under arrest at Raleigh in Governor Holden's time. I +don't remember the overseer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span></p> + +<p>We moved to Raleigh at the surrender. Marster give us a old mule when we left +him, an' I rode him into Raleigh. We rented a house on Wilmington Street, an' +lived on hard tack the Yankees give us 'til we could git work.</p> + +<p>Mother went to cooking for the white folks, but I worked for Mr. Jeff Fisher. +I held a job thirty-five years driving a laundry truck for L. R. Wyatt. The +laundry wus on the corner of Jones an' Salisbury Street.</p> + +<p>I married Cenoro Freeman. We lived together fifty-six years. She wus a good +devoted wife. We wus married Dec. 9, 1878. She died in May 1934. Booker T. Washington wus a good man. I have seen +him. Abraham Lincoln wus one of my best friends. He set me free. The Lawd is my +best friend. I don't know much 'bout Jefferson Davis. Jim Young an' myself wus +pals.</p> + +<p>My object in joining the church wus to help myself an' others to live a decent +life, a life for good to humanity an' for God.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span> +<div class="sidenote"> [320154]</div> +<div class="left"> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Elbert Hunter"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>N.C. District:</b></td><td align='left'><b>No. 2</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Worker:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Mary A. Hicks</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>No. Words:</b></td><td align='left'><b>670</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Subject:</b></td><td align='left'><b>EX-SLAVE STORY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Story Teller:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Elbert Hunter</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Editor:</b></td><td align='left'><b>Daisy Bailey Waitt</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Date Stamp:</b></td><td align='left'><b>"JUN 1 1937"</b></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 226px;"> +<img src="images/e_hunter.jpg" width="226" height="300" alt="e_hunter" title="Elbert Hunter" /> +<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">[To List]</a></span></div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span> + +<h4>EX-SLAVE STORY</h4> + +<h5>An interview on May 19, 1937 with Elbert Hunter of Method, N.C., 93 years +old.</h5> + +<p>I wuz borned eight miles from Raleigh on de plantation of Mr. Jacob Hunter in +1844. My parents were Stroud and Lucy an' my brothers wuz Tom, Jeems an' +Henderson. I had three sisters who wuz named Caroline, Emiline an' Ann.</p> + +<p>Massa Hunter wuz good to us, an' young Massa Knox wuz good too. My mammy wuz +de cook an' my pappy wuz a field hand. Massa ain't 'lowed no patterollers on his +place, but one time when he wuzn't ter home my mammy sent me an' Caroline ter de +nex' door house fer something an' de patterollers got us. Dey carried us home an' +'bout de time dat dey wuz axin' questions young Massa Knox rid up.</p> + +<p>He look dem over an' he sez, 'Git off dese premises dis minute, yo' dad-limb +sorry rascals, if us needs yo' we'll call yo'. 'My pappy patterolls dis place +hisself.'</p> + +<p>Dey left den, an' we ain't been bothered wid 'em no more.</p> + +<p>I toted water 'fore de war, minded de sheeps, cows and de geese; an' I ain't +had many whuppin's neither.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span> Dar wuz one thing dat massa ain't 'low an' dat +wuz drinkin' 'mong his niggers.</p> + +<p>Dar wuz a ole free issue named Denson who digged ditches fer massa an' he +always brung long his demijohn wid his whiskey. One ebenin' Missus tells me an' +Caroline ter go ter de low groun's an' git up de cows an' on de way we fin' ole +man Denson's demijohn half full of whiskey. Caroline sez ter lets take er drink +an' so we does, an' terreckly I gits wobbly in de knees.</p> + +<p>Dis keeps on till I has ter lay down an' when I wakes up I am at home. Dey +says dat Massa Jacob totes me, an' dat he fusses wid Denson fer leavin' de +whiskey whar I can fin' it. He give me a talkin' to, an' I ain't neber drunk no +more.</p> + +<p>When we hyard dat de Yankees wuz comin' ole massa an' me takes de cattle an' +hosses way down in de swamp an' we stays dar wid dem fer seberal days. One day I +comes ter de house an' dar dey am, shootin' chickens an' pigs an' everthing. I'se +seed dem cut de hams off'n a live pig or ox an' go off leavin' de animal +groanin'. De massa had 'em kilt den, but it wuz awful.</p> + +<p>Dat night dey went away but de nex' day a bigger drove come an' my mammy +cooked fer 'em all day long. Dey killed an' stold ever'thing, an' at last ole +massa went to Raleigh an' axed fer a gyard. Atter we got de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span> gyard de +fuss ceased. One of de officers what spent de night dar lost his pocket book an' +in it wuz seven greenback dollars, de fust I eber seed.</p> + +<p>We wuz glad ter be free even do' we had good white folks. De wuck hours wuz +frum daybreak till dark, an' de wimmens had ter card an' spin so much eber night. +We had our own chickens an' gyarden an' little ways of makin' money, but not so +much fun.</p> + +<p>We played cat, which wuz like base ball now, only different. De children +played a heap but de grown folks wucked hard. De cruelest thing I eber seed wuz +in Raleigh atter slavery time, an' dat wuz a nigger whuppin'.</p> + +<p>De pillory wuz whar de co'rthouse am now an' de sheriff, Mr. Ray whupped dat +nigger till he bled.</p> + +<p>I neber seed a slave sale, an' I neber seed much whuppin's. I larned some long +wid de white chilluns, 'specially how ter spell.</p> + +<p>No mam, I doan know nothin' 'bout witches, but I seed a ghos'. Hit wuz near +hyar, an' hit wuz a animal as big as a yearlin' wid de look of a dog. I can't +tell you de color of it case I done left frum dar.</p> + +<p><small>B. N.</small></p> +<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Slave Narratives: a Folk History of +Slavery in the United States, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAVE NARRATIVES *** + +***** This file should be named 22976-h.htm or 22976-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/7/22976/ + +Produced by Marcia Brooks, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by the +Library of Congress, Manuscript Division) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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