VOLUME I ALABAMA NARRATIVES Prepared by the Federal Writers1 Project of the Works Progress Administration for the State of Alabama INFORMANTS Aarons, Charlie 1 Garry, Henry 137 Abercrombie, Anthony 6 Georgia 144 Ammond (Ammonds), Molly- 9 Gibson, Fannie 145 Anderson, Charity 12 Gill, Frank 148 Askew, Gus 15 Gillard, Jim 154 Grandberry, Mary Ella 157 Baker, Tom 17 Green, Esther 165 Barnes, Henry 20 Green, Jake 168 Beauchamp, Nathan 25 Grigsby, Charity 171 Bell, Oliver 27 Birdsong, Nelson 33 Hayes, Charles 174 Bishop, Ank 35 Hill, Lizzie 176 Bonner, Siney 39 Hines, Gabe 178 Bowen, Jennie 42 Hodges, Adeline 181 Bradfield, Nannie 44 Holland, Caroline 185 Bradley, Martha 46 Holloway, Jane 188 Brown, Allen 48 Holmes, Joseph 190,195 Brown, Gus 49 Horn, Josh 201 Howard, Emma L. 211 Calloway, Walter 51 Casey, Esther King 55 Ingram, Everett 215 Chapman, Amy 58 Irwin, Hannah 218 Chapman, Emma 62 Cheatam, Henry 66 Jackson, Martha 220 Clark, Laura 72 Jane 224 Clayton, Hattie 76 Johnson, Hilliard 227 Clemons, Wadley (Shorty) 78 Johnson, Randolph 231 Colbert, William 81 Jones, Abraham 233 Collins, Tildy 83 Jones, Emma 236 Colquitt, Sara 87 Jones, Hannah 238 Cosby, Mandy McCullough 90 Josephine, Aunt 241 Crockett, Emma 92 Jurdon, Lucindy Lawrence 242 Cross, Cheney 95 Kimball, Lucy 244 Daniel, Matilda Pugh 103 King, Ellen 248 Davis, Carrie 105 Davis, Clara 109 Leslie, Mandy 251 Dillard, George 111 Lewis, Dellie 255 Billiard, Ella 113 Lightnin* 258 Dirt, Rufus 117 Longslaughter, Billy Abraham 260 Eppes, Katherine 119 Louis, Uncle 263 Fitzpatrick, Reuben 122 McAlpin, Tom 268 Ford, Heywood 123 Maddox, Anne 272 Frederick, Bert 126 Mandy 275 Menefee, Frank 278 Garlic, Delia 129 Morgan, Isaam 282 Garrett, Angie 133 Morgan, Tony 286 Mose, Uncle Murphy, Sally Nettles, Hattie Anne Northcross, Rev. W. E. Owens, Rev. Wade Parker, Molly Patton, Lindy Phillips, Simon Pitts, Roxy Pollard, Carrie Poole, Irene Pugh, Nicey Reynolds, Sallie Rice, Mary Robinson, Cornelia Rogers, Gus (Jabbo) Scott, Janie Shepherd, Maugan Sims, Allen Smith, Frank Smith, John Stanton, Annie 289 294 297 299 306 309 311 312 316 318 320 323 326 329 331 334 337 340 342 345 349 353 Stewart, Theodore Fontaine 356 Strickland, George 359 Taylor, Cull Taylor, Daniel Taylor, George Tellis, Amanda Thomas, Ellen Thomas, Elizabeth Tillman, Mollie Toombs, Alonza Fantroy Towns, William Henry Underwood, Stepney Van Dyke, Charlie Walker, Lilah Walker, Simon Washington, Cindy White, Eliza White, Mingo Whitess, Abe Williams, Callie Witherspoon, Silvia Young, George 363 367 370 374 376 380 381 383 385 394 397 401 404 407 411 413 423 425 429 432 ILLUSTRATIONS Facing page A Slave Cabin in Barbour County near Eufaula Frontispiece Molly Amraond (Ammonds) 9 Charity Anderson 12 Gus Askew 15 Nathan Beauchamp 25 Oliver Bell 27 Ank Bishop 35 Siney Bonner 39 Jennie Bowen 42 Martha Bradley 46 Allen Brown 48 Gus Brown 49 Walter Calloway 51 Esther King Casey 55 Amy Chapman 58 Henry Cheatam 66 Laura Clark 72 Laura Clark's House 72 Wadley (Shorty) demons 78 William Colbert 81 Sara Colquitt 87 Emma Crockett 92 Emma Crockett1s House 92 Matilda Pugh Daniel Carrie Davis George Dillard Bert Frederick Delia Garlic Angie Garrett Henry Garry Jake Green Charity Grigsby Charity Grigsbyfs House Lizzie Hill Gabe Hines Jane Holloway Emma L. Howard Everiett Ingram Hannah Irwin Martha Jackson iiuxauum v vlivS Abraham Jones' Back Yard Abraham Jones' House Lucindy Lawrence Jurdon Tom McAlpin Anne R'addox Frank k'snef ee Isaam Morgan Facing page 103 105 HI 126 129 133 137 168 171 171 176 178 188 211 215 218 220 233 233 233 242 268 272 278 282 Facing page Hattie Anne Nettles 297 Rev* Wade Owens 306 Molly Parker 309 Lindy Patton 311 Simon Phillips 312 Carrie Pollard 318 Nicey Pugh 323 Mary Rice 329 Cornelia Robinson 331 Maugan Shepherd 340 Allen Sims 342 Frank Smith 345 Theodore Fontaine Stewart 356 George Strickland 359 Daniel Taylor 367 Ellen Thomas 376 Alonza Fantroy Toombs 383 William Henry Towns 385 Stepney Underwood 394 Simon Walker 404 Cindy Washington 407 Abe Whitess 423 George Young 432 ^ \ 1. ¦ Week ending Aug.6, X9$7* M**? A. Poole, j[i S-260 v \ Identification N0.OI49-4366 S-200 Federal Writers1 Project,Dist.2. WPA Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. CHARLH AARONS, EX-SLATE, SATS HE LOVED YOUNG MAESTER JOHff. (Written by Mary A. Poole.) Some friends driving to Oak Grove, Ala., gave the writer the opportunity on August 4"&h to interview an old ex-slave, Charlie Aarons, who is quite venerable in appearance, and who, when asked his age, replied: "Madam I dont know but I sure been 'round here long time", and when asked how old he was at the time of the Surrender he answered: "I was a man able to do a man's work so I 'spects I was eighteen or twenty years old." Uncle Charlie as he is known among his own color and the mhite people who knows him, told the writer he was born at Peters- burg 7a., and his parents, Aaron and Louisa, were owned by a Mr. J.H.White, who had a store in the city, but no plantation. His parents had three children, two boys and one girl, and when Uncle Charlie was about ten years of age, he waa sold by Mr. White to a speculator named Jones who brought him to Mobile. He recalled being placed on the block, at the slave mart on Royal and State streets, and the anxiety of hearing the different people bidding for him, and being finally sold to a Mr. Jason Harris, who lived near Newton Station in Jasper County, Miss. Uncle Charlie never saw or heard of his parents or brother and sister again and never knew what became of them. Uncle Charlie said Mr. Harris was a pretty rough master, and somewhat close. All rations were weigied out and limited. He Week ending Aug#6, 1937. S^UT A» Poole, 2 2 S-260 Identification N0.OI49-4366 S-200 Federal Writers* Project,Dist»2« WPA Projeot 3609, Mobile, Ala. CHARLIE AARONS, EX-CLAVE, SAYS HE LOVED YOUNG MARSTER JOHN. (Written by Mary A. Poole •) had a white overseer and a negro driver, who was the meanest of all* Mr* Jason Harris had about sixty slaves, and a large plan-cation of a hundred acres, the men and women worked in the fields from six to six, except on Saturday, when they had half day holiday to clean up generally? The hone of the Harris family was a large two story house and the quarters were the regular log cabins with clay chimneys. They cooked in their cabins, but during the busy season in the fields ^heir dinners were sent out to them each slave having his own tin pail marked with his name, Vfater would be sent out in a barrel mounted on an ox cart. The old men and women looked after the children of the slaves tfiile their parents worked in the fields. When the writer asked Uncle Charlie, if his master or mistress ever taught him to read or write, he smiled and said: "Ho, Madam, only to work*1, ?&en asked if they had any special festivities at Christmas or any other holiday, he replied: "No, we had no special jolifications". Saturday nights they could sing and dance in the quarters aad have prayer meetings, then on some Sundays, they could2hitch up the mules to a big wagon and all go to the white folks church: and again there would be camp meetings held and the slaves from all the surrounding plantations would attend, going to same in Week ending Aug.6, 1937« ^ry A, Poole, 3. 3 S-260 Identification No,0149-4366 S=200 Federal liters' Project,Dist*2« WPA Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. CHARLIE AARONS, EX-CLAVE, SATS HE LOVED YOUNG MARSTER JOHN. (Compiled by Mary A. Poole.) these large wagons, sometimes having four mules to a wagon. They then would have a jolly time along the way, singing and calling to one another, and making friends. Uncle Charlie, said, he drove many a load of cotton in the large mule wagons from Newton Station to Enterprise, Mississippi. Iffihen asked if that wasn't a chance to run away, he replied: "Git away, why Madam, those nigger dogs would track you and all you got was a beating.* Uncle Charlie seemed to look off in the distance and said, you know, Madam, I never saw a slave rebuked until I came to Mississippi, and I just couldn't understand at first, but he grinned and said: "Lordy, Madam, some of those niggers were onery, too, and a nigger driver was a driver sure anough." When the Masterfs son John Harris went to war, Charlie went with his as his body guard, and when asked what his duties were, he replied: "I looked after Marster John, tended the horses and the tents. I recalls well, Madam the siege of Vicksburg." The writer then asked him if he wasn't afraid of the shot and shell all around him. "No, Madam1* he replied, "I kept way in the back where the camp was, for I didn't like to feel the earth trembling fneath my feet, but you see, Madam, I loved young Marster John, and he loved 4. , Week ending Aug.6, 1937. ^6JC7 A. Poole, ,4 S-260 Identification N0.OI49-4366 S-200 federal Writers* Project,Dist»2. WPA Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. CHARLH AAROMS, EX-SIAvE, SAYS HE LOTTED YOUNG MARSIER JOHN. (Compiled by Mary A. Fooie.) me, and I just had to watch over that boy, and he came through all right." Uncle Charlie said when they were told the Yankees were coming through from their headquarters in Meridian, Mississippi, and warned of their raids, they all made to the swamps and staid until they had passed on, but that the Yankees did not disturb the Jason Harris plantation. After the Surrender Charlie came to Mobile and worked at the Yankee Camp, living in the quarters located in Hollyls Garden. He drove their wagons and was paid #14.00 a month and his keep, i-fter his discharge he worked on steamboats and followed different lines of work, being employed for several years at Mr. M.L.Davis* saw mill, and is at present living on the Davis.place at Oak Grove, Ala,, an old Southern home, with quarters originally built for the employees of the mill and still known as the "quarters", and like other ante-beilu, homes they have their private burying ground on the place. Uncle Charlie was married four times, but now a widomn?. He had four children, two boys who are dead, and two girls, one Carrie Johnson, a widow, living in Kushla, Ala., and the other, Ella Aarons, a gr«ps widow, living in Mobile , Ala. Uncle Charlie says he saw Jeff* Davis as an old man, after the war at Mississippi City Miss. , and then his face lit up, and he said; "Wait a minute, Madam I saw another president, letme Week ending Aug.6, 1937 • Mary A* Poole, 5»' « S-260 Identification No,0149-4366 ° S-200 Federal Writers' Project,DisT>.2. WPB. Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. CHARLIE: AARONS, EX-SLAVE, SAYS HE LOVED YOUNG MARSTER JOHN. (Compiled by Mary A.Poole. ) think,- Yes, Madam i saw President Grant." "He came through Mobile from New Orleans, and my I there was a big parade that day." When asked about Abraham Lincoln, Uncle Charlie thought awhile, and aaswered: "According to what was issued out in the Bible, there was a time for slavery, people had to be punished for their sin, and then there was a time for it not to be, and the Lord had opened a good view to Mr. Lineoln, and he promoted a good idea." When he was asked about Booker T. Washington he replied: "It was traversed out to him until the white folks took part with him and helped him carry on." Uncle Charlie thinks the present day folks are bad aixi wicked, and dont realize anything like the old folks. Charlie is a Baptist, became one when he sought the Lord and thinks all people should be religious.. EIBLIOGRAPHY: Personal contact with Uncle Charlie Aarons, Oak Grove, Ala. Alabama N 10234 Susie R. O'Brien, 6 Uniontown, Alabama. W. S. Jordan, Editor. OLD JOE CAN KEEP HIS TWO BITS. * SItf* a POrsK * NX ANTHONY ABERCROKBIE, EX-SLAVS. Uncle Ant*ny sat dosing in the early morning sunshine on his rickety front porch* He is a thin little old man with patches of white wool here and there on his bald head, and an. expression of kindness and gentleness on his wrinkled old face. As l went cautiously up the steps, which appeared none too -afe, his cane which had been leaning against his chair, fell to the floor with a clatter. He awohe with a start and began fumbling around for it vrith his trembling and bony hands. "Uncle Ant'ny, you don't see so well, do you?"' I ashed as I re- covered the stich for him. "No ma'am, I sho' don't," he replied. "I ain't seed none outen one of my eyes in near 'bout sixty years, and de 'octor say I got a cataiac on de either one; but 1 hnows you is white fo?_hs. I always is been puny, but 1 rechon 1 does purty well considerin1 - is a hundred years old. " 11 How do you "know you are that old?" I inquired, of him. Without h".-sit at ion he answered, " 1 hnows I s dat old 'eaBeriy mist is put it down h: de Bible. I was born on de fourth day and, I was a. full growed man •'"en de waroome on in f61. "Yassuni, n\y mind hinder comes and goes, but I can always 'member '"out slave'y time. Mts de things what happen in dese days cat' s so ::wr for me to disremember. I V longed to harster Jim Abercrombie. His "vntation was 'bout sixteen miles north of harion in 3ibb county. When ¦ *s son, young Jim, ma1 led, old A-arse Jin; give me to him and he fotched - to Perry county. "No1 in, old marster didn't goto war 'ca'se he was corrupted; 1b Alabama - 2 - was dea&t&ii bofe- ears and couldn't see good nuther... But he, didn'.t care such 'bout me 'caze I was puny like and and warn't much .'count ,in;.-. r G-ertha Couric, \\*a-f:KU* ^^vMf^i/y^avi John Morgan Smith. 9 .. JJ-9 } "JESUS HAS WL - M' °) ' \ '<'\ril CHILLUN COUNTED." (Photo) I walked along a dusty road under the blazing sun. In the shade of a willow tree a Negro man was seated with his legs drawn up and his arms crossed upon his knees. His head rested face downward upon his arms, $s he had the aspect of one in deep slumber. Beside him munching on a ten straggly weeds, a cantankerous mule took little notice of his sur- roundings . "Can you tell me where Aunt Molly Ammond lives?" I asked in a loud voice. The Negro stirred slowly, finally Raising his head, and display- ing three rabbit teeth, he accompanied his answer with a slight gesture of his hand.' HYassuh, dar her house raght across de road; de house wid de climbin1 roses on hit.R "Thank you," I said. "Yassuh,11 was the drawled response, and the Negro quickly resumed his former posture. Aunt Molly Ammonds is as gentle as a little child. Her voice is soft and each phrase measured to the slov/ functionings of her aged mind. "Honey," she said, "you ain't gwineter believe dis, but I is de flamy of thirty chilluns. Jesus got l em counted an1 so is me. I w&& bav.-n in a log cabin dat had a loft, an1 it wn& on Marse Lee Catofs plan- tation five miles wes f of Eufaula. My pappy's name mitt* Tobe Cato an1 my -any's vmz Sophia. I had one sister, Marthy, an' two brothers, Bonk fy and Toge. My pappy made all de furniture dat went in our house an1 it fere might good furniture too. Us useta cook on de fiaiaplace. Us would >ok ash calces. Dey wuz made outen meal, water and a little pinch of ^ard; on Sundays dey wuz made outen flour, buttermilk an' lard. Mammy mid rake all de ashes out de fiaiaplace, den kivver de cake wid Alabama - 2 - de hot ashes an1 let it cool till it ^^clone. MYas Missy," she continued,"! recollects dat I wb^ *bout twelve or.fo1teen when de s*render come, kaze a little atter dat I ma'ied Pastor Ammonds. We walked ober to G-eorgetown an1 it was de fus' time I eber had shoes, and * got dem fum ole Massa. I remembeift&at I ma'ied in a striped calico dress." "Aunt Molly," I said, "you're getting a little ahead of your storyg/fcell me something about your plantation life before the war." "^ "Well, honey, Massa Lee's place was 'bout three miles long an1 tv/o miles wide, and we raised cotton, cawn, 'taters and all sorts of vegetables. We had a mean Qberseer dat always wanted to whup us, but ifiassa wouldnft fllow no whuppin'# Sometimes de massa. would ride over de place on a hoss, an1 when he come up on de oberseer a-^fussin1 at a nigger, Massa say, fDon't talk rough to dat nigger when he doin1 de ces1 he can*% *^ "My pappy had a little garden of his own back of his cabin, an1 he raised some chickens for us to eat, an1 we had aigs nearly ev'y morninf # ,fDe only work I done on de plantation wa& to nuss^ome little niggers when dere mammy an1 pappy wuz in de fiel's. ^warn't hard* • "NawsuhJ I ainft never seed no slave in chains* I-assa Lee v.nz a good man. He had a church built called de brush house, dat had a flo1 and some seats, an1 a top made oaten Dine boughs, an1 massa1 s P?, Mr. Cato, would preach evefy Sunday. We sung songs lak JI Heered ?e Voice Of Jesus Say, an' fI1 se Gwine Home to Die no J^o • We ws»lv?W all babtized in de creek, but none of us 'ma taught to read or write. 10 "No-suh, I ain't never seed no slave run away. Us met treated fine. Our folks tsas quality. We had plenty som'n t'eat, but dem slaves hadda work powerful hard though. Atter dey come home fum de Alabama - 3 - * * fiel's dey v&& so tired dat dey go raght to sleep, except when de massa had barbecues. Ohristmas vas& de big time; dere nmg. several days to res1 an1 make merryin1 an' lots of dem no count niggers got drunk. 11 When Us slaves ws& sick, Massa Lee would send to Eufaula to fetch Dr* Thornton to give us oome medicine. We had de "bes* treatment ever* "Yassuh, white folks, dem days is long ago. All my chilluns done died or wandered away an1 my ole man heen dead goin1 on twenty years* I been here a long time by myself*M — if Aunt Molly," I interrupted. "There1s one thing I've always i'een wanting to ask one of you ex-slaves, and that is: what you thought of people like Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis and Booker T. Washing- ton*" A puzzled expression came over the face of the old Negro. "White folks," she said after a moments deliberation, "I donft believes I is had de pleasure of meetin1 dem gentfmens#M '""ash. Copy, 5/25/37. :. h. 10193 Alabama x X,AJ Ila B* Prine /l>h^fb) Ira S. Jordan N^biJe- ? "Aunt* gharity Anderson* (g3>slsve) Charity Anderson, who believes she is 101 years old, was born at Bell's Landing on the Alabama River, where her owner, Leslie Johnson, operated a woo<3-*yard, which supplied fuel to the river steamers, and a tavern where travelers whiled away the delays of a dubious riverboat schedule? Rheumatic and weak, she no longer ventures from her house In Toulminville, on the outskirts of Mobile, but sits with her turbaned head and bespectacled eyes.rocking the long hours away in a creaky old chair and knitting or sewing, or Just gazing into e t>ast painted by the crackling flames in the fireplace* "I has so much trouble gittin' up and down de steps and ober fls groun', I Jist makes myself happy heah, cause,»thank de Lawd- Tfse on Zion's March,** is her resigned comment* "Missy, peoples don't live now; and niggers ain't got no ^nners, and doan* know nothin* 'bout waitin' on folks, I kin ^eiiember de days w*en I was one of de house servants* Dere was "ix of us in de ole Massa's house4ne, Sarai, Lou, Hester, Jerry ".ad Joe* Us did'n' know nothin' but good times den* My job was lookin' atterde corner table whar nothin' but de desserts set* <"oe and Jerry, dey was de table bovs. Dey neber tetched nothin' ¦id dere hen's, but used de waiter to pass things wid.** "My ole Massa was a good man. He treated all his slaves kind, and took good kere of *em* But, honey, all de white folks v^n't good to dere slaves* I's seen po' niggers 'mos* tore up by ^oss and whupped tell dey bled w'en dey did'n' do lak de white Alabama * 2 • folks say* But, thank de Lawd, I had good white folks and dey sho* did trus* me, too4 I had charge of all de fejs to de house, and I waited on de Missis' and de chillun. I laid out all de clo*se on Sat'dy night, and den Sunday mawnin's I'd pick up all de dirty things. Dey did'n' have a thing to do* Us house servants had a hahd Job keepin' de pickaninnies out^er de dinin* room whar ole Massa et, cause w'en dey would slip in and st8n' by his cheer, w'en he finished eatin* he would fix a plate for rem and let rem set on the hearth* "No mam, Missy, I ain't neber worked in de fields, Ole Jfessa he neber planted no cotton, and I ainTt seen^none planted Hell after I was free» But, honey, I could sho ".•miff wash, iron and knit and weave. Sometimes I weaved sir or seven yahds of cloth. ?nd do my house work too. I larnt the chillun how to weave, and wash, and iron, and knit too, and I's waited on de fo'th generation of our fambly* I Jes* wish I could tell dese young cfiillun how to ^o* Iffen dey would only suffer me to talk to dem, I'd tell dem to be more rspectful to dere mammies and to dere white folks and say 'yes mam' and 'no mam', instid of 'yes' and 'no* lsk dey do now* "All disgeneration thinks of is 'musement, I neber had seen a show in my whole life 'tell Jes* dis pas' yeah when one of dem carnival things wid de swings, and lights, and all de doin's dey have stop right in front of our house heahl *And I ain't neber been in no trouble in all my life-ain't been in no lawsuits, and I ain't been no witness eben. I ellus treat ebrybody as good as I kin, and I uses my manners as good as I knows how, and de Lawd sho' has took good keer of me* Why, w'en Alabama «* 3 ~ my house burnt up, de white folks helped me &e dat in no time you couldn't tell I ebber losr a thing, •But, honey, de good ole days is now gone foreber* De ole flays was railly de good times* How I wish I could go back to de days w'en we lived at Johnson's landing on de riber, when de folks would come to ketch de steaafcoats and we neber knowed how many to put on breakfas', dinner or supper for, cause de boats nought be behinf times. I ainrt neber had to pay a fare to ride a steamboat needer. I was a good lookin* yaller gal in dem days and rid free wherever I wanted to go* *But whut's de use dreamin* »bout de ole tinfrs? Dey's gone, and de world is gettin' wicked'er and wickedfer> sin grows bolder and bolder, and 'liglon colder and colder* "7*asht Copy 4-23-37 14 Alabama -¦'••^(?uulA. Gertha Couric Pettersen llarzoni ^ v > W o '—* GITS jjSICSv/» SX—SLAV'S OF ETJifiiULi\ tfDat was one time when de ban1 was playin1 and flags was flyinf dat us lil1 niggers didn't get no joy outen it, ft Gus Askew smiled at the thought of the occasion as he sat on the sunny steps of his comfortable house in Eufaula. Gus was telling about the investment of Eufaula during the War between the States. nCenfl Grierson and his men marched right through town," Gus went on with his story of his boyhood. "Ilr. Lincoln done said we was free, but us £ilf niggers was too skeered to lissen to any banf music, even iff en the so'jers had come to set us free. fPears like us was allus gittin1 in somebody's way in dem days and gittin* skeered of somepin1. But we went on away from the so'jers and had a good time fmongst ourselves like we always done when there wasnft ¦my cotton pickin1#/ Cotton pickin1 time was when we didn't have ^.nj chance to do any playin1 ? "~fter the surrender I didn't have to do any more cotton pickinr . nd I went blacksmithin1 for Joe Sturgis. He was the first black- smith in dis here town. 1 was the second. Now my eon done took on de work. They ain't so much sence all dese here automobiles done got so plentiful and might fnigh mint de business. But for seventy years I riz wid de sun and went to dat blacksmith shop. Ifs enjoy- ing a little misery now; so Ifs takin1 my rest." Gus ^skew was born a slave of the Edwards family in Henry bounty in 1853. He was brought to Eufaula just before the close of wie war and stayed on as a blacksmith after he was freed. In his ooventy years of hard work he saved enough to buy his home and some ¦;>oJrp£rty which maintains him and his wife since age and infirmity 15 Alabama - £ - forced hin to turn over the work to his son. He has been married 54 years, numbers his white friends by the hundreds and is held in p;reat respect by his own race. 16 X. Alabama ^ f\0*W L^ Susie R. O'Brien^ JLKJ<>*5f __J<* ^> John UOfttart Srn1 th 17 John Morgan Smith Uncle Tom Baker,^ ^„ H t.,. ¦ « S ho, I recollects about de slabery days,tt said uncle Tom as he whittled shavings from a soft piece of white pine. "I lived on a plantation down in Perry County an1 I remembers a story bout somp'n dat happen to me a way back dar." "I was a water boy for fifty fiel' han' s dat worked in de sun all day long, an' I hadda carry many a bucket -$ua de spring,$frfttjA'j(tfP-(L dat-ws^r*one fiel1 ober-^&a wftea? mosf of dem was workin'. De spring run down between some willow trees an' it was powerful TO cool down dere in de shade. I use'jfc. lie on de moss an' let '¦"'* bare belly git cool an' put my face in de outlet of de spring an' let de water trickle over my haid. Jus' about de time I gits a little resY one of dem niggers would call:"'Yfeter Boyl Bring dat bucket!^ Den I grab up de bucket an' run back out ¦ - • ? J ¦ in ae not sun. "One clay, on my las1 trip, I was mighty tired an1 I flop down on dat moss wid de sweat a-drippin1 from my body, an* -i-#aJ I knowed it I done fell slap to sleep* When I woke up, it was alinosfdark, an1 I couidn1t hear de slaves a-singin1 in de fiel's, so. I knowed da^t (Ley had gone home* I shake my haid, an1 look -bout me, an1 my eyes came to res1 on a little black bear cub a-drinkin1 outen de spring* He so was a cute little boogar an1 I made up my mind right den to try an1 kotch him* I was jus1 a little nigger *bout ten year old bh% didn't have no sense, but I Alabama - 2 - 18 sho1 wanted dat little bear. He ain't seed me a-settin' ifey*-so I snuck up real cautious like, an* afore he knowed it I had dat little debil a-squealin' in my -oafti-e. I w£& jus* about to start home wid him, when I hears a rustlin1 in de bushes an' afore I went ten feets, here come a big, black bear a-lopin' along right outen dem willow trees. I drop dat little critter 4aze I knowed dat wu.&. his mammy an', she was ravin' mad. When I let de little feller fall it mustMiurt him somp'n awful fcaze he howl ¦«©* dan eber, an1 went a limpin1 up to his mammy. Well, suh, dat ole woman she got so mad she made pe-* me -lak'two bolts of lightning jgput dese here feets of mine begin a-doin' dere stuff. I knowed she was a-gainin' on me so I lets out a whoop for help. SJie chased me^cgoss dat empty fielftj an' 'bout dat time I seen big Jim a-comin' through a row of eeewn. "'Hurry Big Jim, « I calls, 'a bear is jd&k&p mel' Big Jim was de biggest nigger on our place. He must have weighed as much as a half a bale of cotton. "1 was jus' 'bout gittin' to de ba4£% of de -eemn when dat bear etched me. He give me a slap wid his paw an' I goes down wid my acmf a-scoopin' up de dus*. Lly back felt like somebody done putX a hot iron on it. Dat bear was a mean one. I was expectin* her to chaw me up an' I drawed my body up in a knot and kivered my hai d wid my hands an' waited. But dat bear neber touch me agin'. "I kinda snuck my eye aroun' an1 I saw big Jim havin' it out wid her. Jim, he had a long knife an* dey was a-tumblin1 an* a-rollin' in de dust, while I sot dere wid my eyes a-poppin* outen my haid an' my back feelin' like it was broke. Jim he wrap his legs roun' dat bear an*''fore you knowed it he had done stuck dat ole critter a dozen times wid dat knife. "About fifteen minutes later me an' Jim was a-^walkin' back Alabama - 3 - through de-*©*m fiel1 an' I guess we looked a sight, £aze I was all tore up an' Jim he looked like he done mess up wid a fambly of wildcats. He was bleedin' -f«m haid to foot. When we walked into de big house to git s&me treatments an' medicine for our hurts, ..iistis was a-standln1 dere# a»«*when she seed me an' Jim, she almost faint. She say: »Whut done happen to my niggers?' "Atter me an' Jim got fixed up I was jus1 as happy, kaze I done seed de bes' fight dere eber was an1 I had me a little orphan bear, cub." Wash. Copy R.L.D. 5-20-37 19 Alabama 0199 W.-^W Ila B . Prine, Mobile Demps A. Oden, Editor 20 HE MISSES DEM 11 SET-DOWN HAWGS11 In Prichard, a suburb of Mobile, lives an old, blind Negro, "Uncle Henry" Barnes, who says he was born in 1358, near Suggsville, Clarke County, Alabama. "Cose I was borned a slave, but I donft •member much 'bout hit, 'caze I was li'l. Dere is one tfing I does fmember, an1 dat was when dey cut watermelons at de oberseer's house an1 dey want us li'l niggers rim races to git our piece* I Jes wouldn't run an1 my mammy she whup me 'caze I so stubborn an1 when I git my JL piece of melon, I fly down de lan$ whar our log cabins was. Dem cabins was daubed wid clay, an1 de chimbleys was built outten clay an1 stick. Our beds was homemade an1 had tree legs wid de yuther side nail to de wall. I •member atter I got a big boy, my Mammy had a bed made outten lumber an1 I slep1 in dat bed 'twel I was erowed an1 rna'ed. "I 'members usfs Ole Mistis, Miss Dell. Miss Dell was a good l.istis an1 she useter hab Sunday School ebber Sund'y mornin1 at de Big House an1 all us li'l niggers went up dar for her to teach us *bout de Bible an1 Jesus. "Marse John was good to all he slaves an1 he wouldn't stan1 no rush er meanness to his niggers. Iff en de ofseer got mean, Ole Marster would turn him off. Ole Marster allus tuk good keer of he slaves, 'caze when dey got sick, he hab de doctor, Jes lak hen de white folks got sick. One o' Marse John's boys, Marse 3ennie, was a doctor, an1 he was a good doctor, cep'n1 he gin us Alabama - 2 - bad med'cin1, but he cyured you. 11 Cose us hab our med'ein1 slch lak elderbush tea* Hit was red fmosf lak whiskey an1 us used hit for feber. Den dere was red sassafrac tea fer spring feber, an1 dey made Jerusalem oak candy full o* seeds an1 gib to de chilluns to eat so dey could git rid o^worms. Den us had mullen an1 pine-top tea f#r colds an1 feber. j a An1 when us had ar swellin1 dey made ec poultice oJ mullen leabes 21 to take de swellin1 out. HSometimes I wishes dat I could be back to de olr f>lace, *caze us did hab plenty to eat, an1 at hog-killin1 time us had mor*n a plenty. Ole Marster kill eight or ten set-down hawgs at one time, an1 de meat, an1 de lard an1 de hawgjowl an1 de chiSrJz'lir^s - m'ra1 I kin see ! em now. "What a set-down hawg? Hit's a hawg what done et so much corn vie got so fat dat he feets canft hoi1 him up an1 he jes set on he hin1 quarters an1 grunts an1 eats an1 eats an1 grunts, ftwell dey >nock him in de head# "Dem was sho* good times, fcaze us had all us could eat den, an1 plenty^ug&r-*cane to make flasses out ten. An* dey made up biscuits in de big wood trays. Dem trays was made outten tupelo ^urn an1 dey was light as a fedder. Us had plenty den, all de time, an1 at Chrismus an1 wfcfen de white folks get mated., dey kill hawgs, turkeys, an1 chickens an1 sometimes a yearlin1. En dey cook de hawgs whole, barbecue fem an1 fix fem up wid a big apple in he mouf. •rhen de big weddin1 come off, dey cook in big pots, so^ to hab fnough for eber!body. Cose us didnft hab eat in1 lak dat all de i •ime, f caze de reg*lar rations was tree pound of meat an1 a peck • \ -A Alabama - 3 - of mealfer eber* nan1 from Sat*day twell Sat'day. HDe niggers was 'lowed to hab a li'l patch of dey own, dat dey could wuk at night an' Sat'day ebenin'i What dey make on dis patch was dey'n, an1 01 e Marster pay 'em money for hit. Nobody didn't j make de niggers wuk dey patched - if fen dey want de grass to look fem, dat's all right wid Ole Marster. Ole Marster hab a big gyarden ' 'mos' big as a fiel1, whar dey raise greens an1 collards an' turnups fer de whole place. "My granpappy was a carpenter an' Ole Marster contrac1 him out to de yuther plantations to build dey houses, De grown niggers had to be up 'fo* day. De oberseer blow he horn fust to git up by an* de nex' time he blow dey hatter be ready to go to de fiel*. "Dere was a ol' ,oman what kep' all de li'l niggers, whilst dey mammies was in de fiel'. Dis ol' 'oman cooked fer de 11*1 uns an1 fed *em all day, an' dey mammies tuk 'em at night. rtUs's clo's was made outten osnaburg cloth an' dyed wid cop'rus an' sometime dey mix terbaccy an' peach--€ree leabes wid de dye. Us had a big orchard wid apples an1 peaches an1 pears, more'n us an' de hawgs togedder could eat up. "When a nigger died, dey was buried in de graveyard lak dey do now, an' dey shouted an' hollered an1 sometime ap 'oman she faint an' hab to be tote home. De song dey sing mos* at de fun'ral was: Hark, frpft d,e, Tpom, "Us sho' did hab plenty singin* o* hymns an' shoutin' at night in de cabins. Iffen de men want to break a night res* he go possum huntin' or rabbit huntin' Jes1 so he git pass from Ole Marster an' pps at de fiel' nex' mornin' on time wid de yuther han's. w£ knowed Ole Mar step went to de war, ^caze I he erd de folks talMn' bout hit an' wonder iffen Ole Marster gwirte git kilt. Den I heerd 'era say de niggers was free, but us didn't leave Ole Marffcer for 'bout a year atter de s'render. Den us went to lib on de young aiistls' place at Barlow Bend, atter. she raa'ed Mr* Bob Flynn. Right dar I stayed twell I was grown and ma'ed. Den de ,fust move to town, us come up de Alabama Ribber to James * Landin'. I members all de big boats on de ribber. Dey sho' was fine 'uns. "Den, I 'members atter I growed up dey tell ^out how de Yankees comin' here an' how dey pester de white folks an' de niggers, too. Broke in dey smoke-houses, burn 'em up an' t'row t'ings away an' lef1 nobody nottin' to eat. I don't 'member dat 'caze I was too 11'1. "Lady, you ax me iffen us knowed anyt'ng 'bout hoodoo? Yes, ma'am dere sho' was folkses what could put spells on you. I sho' was skeered o' dem kin' too. Atter I was nearly growcl, dere was A a gal name Penny what been down siok a long time an', dere was a cun- jer doctor wukkin' oil her tryin' cyure- her, but her'wan't 'greeable, so he let her die. Den er boy, name Ed, he had a mis'ry in he foot, fn' hit went up he leg an' he cripple. Dere was a hoodoo doctor in de forks o' 'Bigbee Ribber come tend on him, an' he tol' ebber'body git outten de house 'cep'n' him an' Ed an' de Debil. He cyured Ed smack well. "My mammy said I was borned wid a 'zernin1 eye to see sperits, an' I seed sump'n lak a cow wid no haid. So mammy made me stir de fresh lard when dey was rendin' hit, 'caze dat cyures you of seeln1 de sperits. Atter I stirred de lard, I didn't see 'em no mo'. "One time I was splittin' rails wid a nigger what could do any- thin' , but he was a bad man an1 I was 'feered of him. I tol' him, Alabama - 5 - f^iiiii^^Sm by deyse'f iff en I had a pain or anything hurt me, I sho1 would kill him wid my ax, I wudda split dat nigger wide open, jes' lak I split dem rails, if fen he try dat hoodoo on me. "Talkin1 'bout fishin', I 'members when us would be plowin1 . down by de ribber, when hit come dinner-time an1 whilst de mules ea tin', us go down to 6j&--T^^$t}.^^^-^^.f^^il^J0^^y Sat'day ebenin's us'd fish. Us kotch tr^^^^^T^^B^^V^W^^^k91^ was wben de carp bite. Dey was so f^j&||;-': widout no., grease. Den us'-^e|tjll;-turk^s::!|i|^^^^s bailed wid corn. '^$'Uw¦''¦"¦''' . '¦"':; " MW^?^i^sl "Lor1 what's de use-i^'tftikinV^i^ut'f^^l^l^l. Dey all pas' an' gone. Sometimes I gi;^*|^v,«^w^i^fc''M>1 dead, an' I is here yit, libiii1 &P be long twell I is ober de-ribber wJlf; "fash. Cony ^ I. D liilSle folks mos' is 11 'spec's hit won't *A|:: 6-11-37 Alabama G-ertha Court c, 25 Eufaula, Alabama. ,-¦¦,.-> ~ John Morgan Smith, --'¦"'<-*¦*¦ Birmingham, Alabama. i NATHAN BEAUCHAMP, HALF BREED, k' c (Photo) I walked up a little patffbordered vsrith small stones, an atmo- sphere of solitude surrounding me. In the sky, large, white cumulous clouds like great bolls of cotton, floated leisurely northward. Far down the road a ramshackle buckboard disappeared over a slight hill; directly in front the path ran at twenty yards into the dilapidated steps of a Negro cabin, while an old colored man in a vegetable garden to the left to the cabin broke the stillness with the intermittentmetallic sounds of his spade digging into thirsty soil. I knew at a glance that this was Nathan Beaucihamp. "Hello, Uncle Nathan," I called. "Mornin1, white folks," he answered, as he discontinued his spad- ing and raised his hand in a friendly gesture. I walked over to where Uncle Nathan was standing and stopped in the little furrows of brown earth. Already a thick coat of dust had formed on my shoes, "Uncle Nathan," I said, "I'd like to have a brief chat with you about slavery days, if you can spare a few minutes from your garden here?" "Yassuh, boss," he said, punctuating his reply with a spat of tobacco that was soon nothing but a dark mark in the parched ground, "glad to be of any 'slstance. We moved to the shade of a large oak where we sat down together^ on a sturdy, home-made bench. "Well, white folks," he went on after taking a long turn at the %>per hanging on the tree which shades a well. "I'll tell you a story of my mammy an* pappy. Nathan Beauchamp, my pappy, belonged to Massa Alabama - 2 - 26 Green Beauchamp at White Oak Springs, near Eufaula. Massa Green was a member of de legislature when de capital wuz at T'uscaloosy. He had many a acre of land an1 hund'eds of slaves. Pappy use to dribe de wagon in to Eufaula to git supplies an* on de way he would meet up wid an Injun gal a-carryin1 big baskets dat she wuz a goin* to sell dere. He would ask her iffen she wanted to ride, an1 she always say yes. So one day pappy came to de massa and tell him dat dere j wuz an Injun gal on de St. Francis Indian Village dat he wanted fo' a wife, an* de boss say all right so pappy married de Indian gal. Her name wuz Mimi. So I is half nigger an half Injun. My mammy died 'bout five year atter freedom, but I can remembers dat she had long black hair, and I remembers de way de sun sparkle on her teeth when she smile. Atter she married pappy, she still carried her pretty baskets to Eufaula to sell. Sometime she walk all de way dere and back, twenty fo' miles. I been libin' here in Eufaula fifty year or mo* white fo'ks, an1 I owns my ittie cabin an' de Ian' around it. T'an't much, but its enough to keep e a-goln*, dis wid de little sto' I owns." Wash • Copy, 5/14/37. Alabama Ruby Pickens Tartr, cy Livingston, ^ Jack Kytle, Editor, DE BES' FRIEND A NIGGER EVER HAD. Oliver Bell says the first thing he remembers was seeing his sother whipped. He was born in slavery, but most of his knowledge of the evils, as well as the Joys of ante-bellum days, is by hearsay only. *I was borned on de De Graffenreid Place," he said, "nine miles west of Livingston-Boyd Road. My mother was Luella De Graffenreid an' my pappy was Edmund De G-raffenreid. Den dey changed my name to Bell. I had one brother, Nat, an' two sisters, Jestina an' Clara. I has 'bout six- teen chilluns, all born on de same place an' most of dem|livin' is- dere -it. My chillun by my firs' wife are Ed, Jack, Holly, Buck, Clarence, 3ally, Liza, Mag an' ^uella. Dey ma was Mandy Powell, frum ¥ork. Den my second wife, Bettie Borwn, gived me de res' of my chilluns. Le's see, dey is «immy, J. W. Alfonso Wallace, Henry, Edna an1--------.w He hesitated, Plained, "Dat's as many as I kin' 'member jest now. "My gran'ma's name was Cely De Graffenreid an' ray gran'pa's name *as Peter. He was a shoemaker fur de place an1 made plows, too. He was s-worker an' he learnt me how to pull fodder an' chop corn an' cotton "ben ^ was jest a little scamp jes' a little black nigger. "Us all b'longed to Mr. Tresvan De G-raffenreid an* Mistus Rebecca; dey was all good to us. Ol1 Mistus read de Bible to us an' got us •aptized in de river at Horn's bridge, but dat was atter de surrender. In !lavery times dey didn't like for us to sing and play loud in de quarters. pnc-y, I 'members when us had de big prayer meet in's. Dey would shut de °or so de voice won't git out, an' dey would turn de washpot down de door. f*t was to keep de voice inside, dey tol' me.M Oliver mused a moment, recalling the old times. "Us chilluns useta have a good time singln' an' a-playin',n he Alabama - 2 - 28 said. "I 'members one of our little verses run somethin' lak disJ "Shoo, shoo, shoo gander Th*Ow yo' feathers 'way yander." "Us had ol' corn hollers, too, but I fergits urn now. I does remember, though you could hear dem niggers holler a whole mile. "No'm, it warn't so bad wid us. De white folks was good to us niggers. Us had 'nough to eat, lak greens, frum de big house. Us had our rations weighed out; peck o' meal, three pounds of meat, half gallons of 'lasses, made at home in wodden mills; an' dat was for a week. An' sometimes, on a Sunday us had a little sugar, coffee an1 flour. No'm, us didn't know what rice was. "What I seed of slavery was a bad idea, I reckon, but ev'ybody thought dey marster was de bes' in de Ian'. Us didn't know no better. A man was growed plum' green 'fo he knew de whole worl' didn't belong to his ol' marster. "Us didn't have no bought medicine in dem days; Jes' whut us got outta de woods lak slippery ellum fer fever an' poke salad root; dey he'p a lot. An' May-apple root would he'p you same as castor oil. "Didn't nobody he'p us learn nothin' much, but mos' of my chilluns went to Booker T's school. Dey say he's a mighty smart man, an' my chill- uns thinks so, too. It's all right; I wish I could read an' write; den -'d tell you things you'd lak to know." His face clouded for the briefest moment. "I tell you de fust thing I 'members, an' I don' know whut started it. One day my mammy done sumpin' an' ol' marster made her pull her iress down 'roun' her waist an' made her lay down 'crost de door. Den -e taken a leather strop an' whooped her. I 'members dat 1 started cryin1 W Mistus Beckie said, 'Go git dat boy a biskit.» 1 "I reckerlecks my mammy was a plow nan* an' she'd go to work Alabama - 3 - ^H soon an1 put me under de shade of a big ol' post-oak tree. Dere I sat all day, an1 dat tree was my nurse. It still standin' dere yit, an' I won't let nobody cut it down. "Mammy Say I never did learn to walk; Jes' one day she sot me down under de oak, an' fust thing she knowed she look up an' dere 1 was mlkin' down de middle of a cotton row. "'Nother thing I 'members when I was a little boy; dat dey was 'vidin' de corn atter de 8'render. Dr. DeG-raffenreid measured de corn out to all of 'em whut was share nan's. He'd take a bushel an' give 'em a bushel. When he mos1 through he'd throw a ear of corn to dis one, an' give himse'f a ear; den he break a ear in two, an' he take part an' give dem part. Dat was close measurin', I tell you. "Us lived in de third house frum de big house in de quarter, an' when I was a boy it was my job to set out shade trees. An' one day de h Kiux come ridin* by an' dey leader was Mister Steve Renfroe, (Alabama bandit of Reconstruction days). He wore long hair an* he call my pappy out an' ax him a heap of questions. While he sittin' dere his horse pull up nigh 'bout all de trees I done sot out. "Atter talkin' to my pappy, he rode on 'cross Horn's bridge,, 'bout two miles souf of here, an' dere he met Ol' Man Enoch Sledge an' Frank ledge. Dey was darkies whut b'longed to Marsa Simmy Sledge's father, 101' Doctor Sledge. Slaves on dat plantation was 'lowed pretty good pri- vilege atter de s'rrender an' was workin' on halvens. Uncle Enock an' ¦'rank was in town tradin' some, an1 Mr. Renfroe didn't want 'em to have ill janything. When dey lef' town, dey pass de Ku Kluxes raght on de slough j^i&ge. Mister Renfroe ax Enock to give hi!Pa piece of string to fix ks saddle wid; den shot him. Prank run to de river, but de Ku Kluxes toched him an' shot him, too. Mr Alabama - 4 - 30 "De niggers went down to de river dat night an' got de bodies an* buried 'em in de ol' Travis graveyard. My mammy an' daddy is buried dere, too, "Didn' nobody do nothin' 'bout Mister Renfroe 'till he went on an* got to messin' wid Marsa Simmy Sledge's things; stole a pair of mules an' de white folks rambled atter him 'till dey foun' him in Linden. Dey got so hot atter him dat he went to his camp in de flat woods down on Bear Creek. Dem was skeery times, 'case dat man never had no mercy for nobody. "Dey's a cave down by de burial grounds whut de/fe laves dug when d.ey run away, an' Mister Renfroe stayed dere. It's on de river bank an* its dug up, You digs an' starts low an' pushes de dirt out an' digs up an' make a big room up so de water won't git you. I knows whar dey's two of de caves on de place; my cow fell in one yestidy. "When Ol* Marster Amos Travis come out here from Californy, he taken a lakin' to me an4 wanted me to leave t'other side of de place an* move down dis side of de big house to take keer of dis swamp an1 look atter de nan's. But I wanted a big house wid four rooms an' two brick chimneys, an1 I had to talk five years to git it. I's got some rose- bushes now dat was at de big house raght atter de s'rrender, an' dey's growin' in my yard now. "Speakin1 'bout graveyard, I was passin' dere one night, ridin' on 'bout midnight, an' sumpin' come draggin' a chain by me lak a dog. got down off'n my horse, but couldn't see nothin' wid no chain, so I Jot back on de horse an' dere raght in front of me was a Jack-Me-L»an- *ern wid de brightes' light you ever seed. It was tryin1 to lead me off, W ev'y time I'd git back in de road it would lead me £ff ag'in. Y0u «ho' will git los' if you follow a Jack-Me-Lantern. "One of dem led a man down to de creek by dem double bridges; Alabama - 5 - 31 said he foun1 he was travelin' in de wrong direction, gittin1 frum home stidder clo'ster, so he Jes1 sit down under a tree an' waited 'till day- light. I ain't skeered of nothin' but dent Jack-Me-Lante^ns, but dey stirs you up in yo1 min' 'till you can't tell whar you's at; an1 dey's so bright dey nigh 'bout puts yo' eyes out. Dey is plenty of 'em over by de graveyard raght over yonder whar all my white folks is buried, anp mammy at' pappy, too. Dey's all dere 'cept Marsa Jess Travis; he was de nex' whut come in line for de place, an* he was de bes' frein' dis here nigger ever had. "Fac1 was, dat's whut he call me; 't'was nigger'. He an' Mistus Mag lived raght dere in de big house; den dey move into town an1 dat's wkar he died. Me an* Marsa Jess made a 'greement an' he said if he was de longes' liver, he'd see me buried, an' if 1 be de longes' liver, I see him buried. So dat day I went to his office In de co'thouse an1 he say he want to talk wid me. He say, 'You 'members us 'greement?' An1 I say, 'Fhut 'greement, Marsa Jess?* An' he say, 'Bout buryin'.' Ddn I say, §8ho','I 'members dat.' "Den he got up an' give me some papers 'bout some lan'» an' I say, ftmt do all dis here mean, Marse ^ess?' He say, 'nothin' nigger, 'cept i's jes' goin' outta business.' Den I say, 'G-oodbye, Marse Jess,' an' he «ay, 'G-oodbye, nigger,' an' I walked on 'crost de street. Den Mr. Killian 5ay, 'Oliver, whut's happened over at de co'thouse?' An I say, 'Ain't no- tv,in' as I knows of.' Den he say, 'Yes, dey is; jes' look at de peoples ^ine in a hurry.' Den I turn 'roun* an' run back an* dere lay Marse Jess. ff. Smith was gettin' him up an' Marse Jess say to me, 'Well, nigger, I ftftn't do whut 1 tended to; I missed it.' An' I say, 'Boss, fer God's |#ake go to de hospital; I'll go wid you an' stay wid you.' Mistus Mag, ¦fee ast me to beg him, but he shuck his head an' say 'If I had a-wanted to j'^e I wouldn't of shot myself.' He res' a minit, den say, 'Nigger, write Alabama - 6 - £jg Miss Calline an' tell her I says to always be good po you as long as you lives. • "Yassum, I was raght dere, done Jes' whut I tol' him I d do; kep' my 'greement an1 followed him to de grave. Co'se dat last 'bout l-iarse Jess ain't no slavery tale, but 1 thought you was atter hearin' all 'bout de family whut owned dis ol1 place; an' Marse Jess was de bes' white freln' a nigger ever had; dis nigger, anyhow." Washington Copy, 6/17/37. L. H. •Cabama 1U,198 -\oA Ila B. Prine, ' Motile, Alabama. NELSON BIRDSONG REMEMBERS HIS MASTER. Nelson Birdsong who lives on Front Street in the old suburb of Summerville, about three miles from Mobile, Alabama, was born a slave. A tall dark Negro man, with white hair and whiskers, he says he was born at Montgomery Hill, Alabama in Baldwin County, and that his people and he were owned by Mr. Tom Adkins. Nelson said he was very small at the time of the Surrender, and could not tell very much about slavery days. In fact, he adds, "You know, missie, old folks in dem days did'nt *low chillun to stan1 'roun1 when dey wuz talking. We chillun wuz lack a shot out of a gun when any- body come in. We wuz glad when folks come in •cause we c'ud run out an1 play. Chillun now-a-days knows as much as we did when we wuz twenty- five years old," Nelson does remember his "raassa" saying he neber wuz going to *let dat little nigger work.* He did not remember much about coming to Mobile, but "seemed lack his mammy worked for Mrs. Dunn on Monroe street, and later dey moved out in old Napoleonville," (which is now Crlchton, Alabama,a suburb of Mobile.) He said his "Pa and Mammy den worked fo' gris' mill out dere, and also owned a big gris' mill in de fork whar de big fire station Is now" (which is located at the intersection of St. Francis street and Washington Avenue, the latter formerly Wilkinson street.) This grist mill was burned in the 1870*s. Nelson says the first work he remembered doing was "nusslng a baby boy of Mr. Bramwell Burden, a gran*son of old man Burden." Nelson has owned his little farm and three-room house until the past two or three years. He said he "scuffled and tried to pay de 33 r ma - 2 - 34 caxes," but had got so old and his knees had give out on him, and I seed I wuz agoin' to lose mah place so I turned it over to a man to keep up mah taxes, so I'd have a place to lib. De relief gibes me a little he'p now, an* me an1 my wife makes out de bes' we can." The house is the familiar type of two-room Negro house, with a porch across the front, and a shed room on the back. The bedroom had been papered with acraps of wallpaper of varied designs and so old that most of it had fallen off. The mantel is covered with the colored comics section, cut in a fancy pattern of scallops. At the entrance of the house is a sack nailed to the floor and used for a foot mat, and at the two upper corners of the door are horse shoes for good luck. Nelson said he is a member of the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church, and has been a Methodist all his life; that he and his wife Virginia, had only two chillun1 and dey were befe dead." Nelson's wife, Virginia, came from a family of slaves, although she was not one herself. She said her folks were owned by Mr. Joe Pickett of Camden, Wilcox County, Alabama. She said she Just can remember Mr. Joe taking her in his buggy,and she called him "Toe-Toe," as she couldn't say his name plainly. She also said as she grew older she always spoke of Mr. Joe, as "my Papa," Instead of "my master," for "he sho' was good to me." She remembers her mother being chambermaid on the "Old Eleanora," a boat on the Alabama river, and as a small child going back and forth on the boat with her. When they finally settled in Mobile, her mother worked for the family of Dr. Heustls who lived in the corner house now occupied by the new Federal Court House and Custom House, at St. Louis and St. Joseph streets. BIBLIOGRAPHY: Personal interview with Nelson and Virginia Birdsong, Summervllle, on Front Street. 'ash. Copy, 5/5/37. Alabama Jt / f A •¦ ) Ruby Pickens Tartt //»HO/ Livingston, Alabama GABR' EL BLOW SOP'! G-ABR'EL BLOW LOUDt (With photo of Ank Bishop) When "Gabr'el take his silver trump," he is going to blow soft for the saved and loud for the lost souls, according to Ank Bishop who was born into slavery eighty-nine years ago, and lives in Livingston, Alabama. The days before the war were as good as the present, Ank believes. He tells of them in the following story of his life: "My name is Ank Bishop, en I was born in 1849, August 16th, at 7'ard, Alabama. Lly mother's name was Amy Larken, an' my father was Tom Bishop. I had three brothers, Alf, Volen an* Jim, an' two sis- ters, Cely an' Matildy. Us belonged to Lady Liza Larkin at Ward, right nigh Coke1 s Chapel. ,, "Liy mother was brought out from South Car'lina in a speculator drove, an' Lady Liza bought her at de auction at Coke's Chapel, She lef her mammy an' daddy back dere in South Car'lina an* never did zee 'em no more in dis life. She was bidded off an' Lady Liza got ¦ier, jes' her one from all her family. She was got fer Lady Liza's house gsl. Eut sometimes she cooked or was de washer, den ag'in r.e milker. Twas my job for to min* de calves. Sometimes I went to ...r. Ed Western's sto' at Gaston, three miles from us house, to see iffen"was any mail for Lady Liza, but 'twa'n't none. "Dey was good to us ' caze Lady Liza's son, Mr. Willie Larkin, v.ss de overseer for his ma, but cose sometime dey git among 'em an' mrashed 'em out. One time one de niggers runned away, old Caesar Tov/nsy, an' dey sarnt for Dick Peters to come an' bring his "nigger vogs.H Dem dogs was trained to ketch a nigger same as rabbit dogs Alabama - 2 - 3g is trained to ketch a rabbit. So Mr. Willie Larkin told Stuart for to say to old man Dick Peters when he come, 'I'm gone, ' but for him to come on. 'I'm gwineter keep de road,' he say, 'an' cross *Bigbee at Lloscow landin'.' So ol' Dick Peters, he kept de road lack he tole him to, an' he cross 'Bigbee at Moscow landin' over in de cane- brake. But dem nigger dogs didn't never ketch ol' man Caesar. He stayed right wharever he was at 'twell after S'render, an' de War done ceasted. Den he come out, but iffen he had a been caught, dey'd a used him up pretty rough, but he stayed hid twell de time done passed. "All de women on Ledy Liza's place had to go to de fiel' ev'y clay an' dem what had suckerlin* babies would cone in 'bout nine o'clock in de mawnin* an' when de bell ring at twelve an' suckerlin' 'em. One %oman tended to all or 'em in one house. Her name was Ellie Lar- kin, an' dey call her 'liammy Larkin.* She all time sarnt me down in de fiel* for to git 'em come suckle de chilleh, 'cage dat made hit hard on her when dey gets hongry an' cry. fUe diin't get to go to church none, an' us *e.'n't larnt no thin*. I'm nigh rbout ninety an' I can't read a line. I got some chillun kin read; one can't whut is sixty-five, but Henry he fifteen an' he >in. De ma, she go by de name of Pearlie Beasley, she can't read neither, but she's a good fiel* nan' an* she patched dese breeches I'm wear-in* an' dis ole shirt. Liss, I ain't got a coat to my name. Can't go to church, so I doan know dat dis any better'n slav'y time. ::.it»s hard, any-vty you got to travel, get yo' .nose on de groun' rock all de time. 7,raen pay day come, ain't nothin' pay v.ld. Come git de r-ent, den you out do's ag'in. Bred an' bawn in Sumter County, wore out in Sumter County, 'specks to die in Sumter County, an' whut is I got? Ain't got nothin', ain't got nothin', ain't got nothin'. "But I'm a believer, an' dis here voodoo an' hoodoo an' sper'ts Alffe&raa - 3 * ¦*¦ ( ain't nothln' but a lot of folk's outten Christ. Ha'nts atnit nothin' but somebody died outten Christ an' his sper«t ain't at res', jes» in a wand'rin« condition in de world, "Dis is de evil sper't what de Bible tells about when hit say a person has got two sper'ts, a good one an' a evil one. De good sper't goes to a place of happiness an' rest, an' you doan' see hit no mo', but de evil sper't ain't got no place to go. Hit's dv;ellin* p}.ace done tore down when de body died, an' hit's jes' a wand'rin' an a waitin' for Gabr'el to blow his trump, den de worl' gwineter come to an en'. But when God say, 'Take down de silver mouf trump an' blow, Gabr'el,' an' Gabriel say, 'Lord, how loud shell I blow?' Den de Lord say, 'Blow easy, Gabr'el, en ca'm, not to 'la.rm my lilies.* De secon' time Gabr'el say, 'How loud mus1 I blow, Lord?' Den de Lord say, 'Blow hit as loud as seben claps of thunder all added into one eecho, so as to wake up dem damnable sper'ts sleepin' in de grave-ya'ds what ain't never nade no peace wid dey God, jes' aleyin' dere in dey sins.' "But de Christen Army, hit gits up wid de fus' trump, an1 dem what i3 deef is de evil ones what anybody kin see anytime. I ain't skeered of 'em, though. I passes 'em an' goes right on plowin', but iffen you wants 'em to git outten your way, all you gotter do is jes' turn your head least bit an.' look back. Dey gone jes1 lack datJ 'Then my fus' wife died 'bout thirty years ago, I was goin' up to Gaston to see Sara Drayden, ole Scot Drayden's wife, an' I tuck out through Kennedy bottom 'bout sundown right after a rain. I seed sompin acomin' down de road 'bout dat high, 'bout size a little black shaggy dog, an' I says, 'What's dat I sees eomin' down de Alaoama - 4 - road? Ain't nobody 'roun' here got no black shaggy dog? Hit kep' ;•¦ corain1 an' kep' agittin' bigger an' bigger an* closer an1 closer, rn* time hit got, rignt to me 'twuz as big as a ha'f growed yearlin', clack as a crow. It had four feet an' drop years, jes' lack a dog, but'twa'n't no dog, I knows dat. Den he shy out in de bushes, an' he come right back in de road, an' riit went on de wey I was comin' from, so I went on de way hit was comin' from. I ain't never seed dat thing no mo'. But I'ze gotter pretty good notion 'bout who hit 'twuz." "Y-sh. Copy K.L.D. 6-8-37 38 /' Alabama "^^^^mJ^ w* F« Jordan 39 SINEX BONNER, EX-SLAVE ^ "Hear dat whistle?" The speaker was Slney Bonner, an ex- slave, now living in the Norwood section of Birmingham. She had stopped for a "confab" where a group of other elderly Negroes of the neighborhood had gathered. "De whistles on dem Big Jacks what pull dese highsteppin' I.C. trains mind me of dem steamboats what used to pull up at de landin' at ole Pickensville on de Tomblgbee River. "•Cose dar wa^'t no railroads dem days an* de onlles* way folks had trabbelin1 about was de steamboat which passed most every week, and de stage coach which passed twice a week. "Lawsy, man, dem was de days, and many de time atter my daddy, whose name was Green Bonner, heard dat steamboat blow below Pickens- ville he would hitch up de mules to de waggin and foiler Massa John on hossback down to de landin' to fetch back de supply of sugar and coffee and plow-tools needed on de plantation. Dey would take me 'long to hold de mules and watch de waggin and it was a reglar picnic to me to see de big shiney boat and watch de goln's on. ' "Massa John Bonner sho1 did *pend on my daddy. De massa paid a thousand green-back dollars for him down to Mobile. fNuf green- backs to wrap him up In, he said, so he named him Green Bonner. "Yes suh, we was all Baptls' - de deep water kind, and every Sunday dey used to pile us into de waggins and pull out bright and early for Big Creek Church on the Carrollton road. Everybody fetched a big basket of grub and, sakes aliveH sech another dinner you never see, all spread out on de grassy grove by de ole graveyard. Mos1 all Alabama - 2 - de quality white folks belonged at Big Creek and when dere slaves got 8ho» nuff 'ligion, dey have fem jine at Big Creek and be bap- tized at de swlmmin' hole, j Some of de niggers want to have dere own" meetin' s, but Lawd chile, dem niggers get happy and get to shoutin1 all over de meadow where dey built a bresh arbor. Massa John quick put a stop to dat. He say, *if you gwine to preach and sing you must turn de wash pot bottom up*; meanln', no shoutin*? dem Baptis' at Big Creek was sho' tight wid dere rules too. Turn you out sho' if you drink too much cawn licker, or dance, or cuss. Massa John had a big fine bird dog. She was a mammy dog and one day she foun' six puppies out in de harness house. Dey was mos' all girl puppies so massa gwine drown ,em. I axed him to give •em to me and purty soon de missus sent me to de pos*office, so I put de puppies in a basket and took ,em wid me. Dr. Lyles come by whar I was settin' and he say, 'Want to sell dem pups, Siney?* I tell him, uh-huh. Den he say, »What 'nomination is deyt». I tell him, dey1s Methodis' dogs. He didn' say no mo'. Bout a week atter dat ole missus sent me to 'de pos*office again, so I took my basket of puppies. Sho« nuff, 'long come Dr. Lyles and he say, ' Siney, see you still ain't sold dem pups'. I say, •Naw-suh*. Den he axed me ag'ln what 'nomination dey b'long to. I tole him dey was Baptis' dogs. He say, 'How come? You tole me las' week dem was Methodis' pups'. Ha-ha! Bress Godl, look like he had me. But I i say, yas-suh, but you see.Doctah, dey got dere eyes open since den. He laff and go on down to his newspaper office. "How old is It Law chile, I don't know. My mammy say I was fifteen year old time of de surrender. I 'members dat mighty well. Uassa John call all de niggers on de plantation 'round him at de 40 Alabama - 3 - 4J[ big house and he say to 'em 'Now, you all Jes' as free as I is. I ain't your marster no mo'. I'se tried to be good to you and take keer of all of you. You is all welcome to stay and we111 all wuk togedder and make a livln' somehow, Ef you don1 want to stay, dem dat go will jes' have to root, pig, or die'. Some stayed and some lef. My daddy stayed wid Marse John till he was called home to glory. Now dey all gone but Siney, and I1 se Jes* here, waitin' for 'em to call me, wYas suh, I been 'round Carrollton a heap. Atter Marse John and my daddy bofe died, I wuk'd *round from place to place. Used to wuk for Mrs. Roper at de old Phoenix Hotel. I recollect when de new brick court house was built. De ole cote house had been burned and dey 'rested a nigger named Bill Burkhalter for settln' it on fire. De iMiiuwut sent him to de pen1 an1 some officers started wid him to Montgomery. When dey got to Sipsey River a mob ketched up wid 'em an' took Bill and hung him dere in the swamp. •Bout dat time a bad cloud come up. Dey axed Bill did he have anything to say. He say, ' I ain't burn no cote house, an' ef you all kill me, my face gwine always ha'nt you'. Whilst he still hangin' dere in dat swamp de lightnin' flash and de thunder an' wind was somp'n awful. Nex' mornin' when de sun come up, bress my soul, right dere on de winder in de cote house tower was a photygraf of de face of de nigger dey done hung for burnin' de old cote house. Yas suh, I done seen dat wid my own eyes an' I speck dat picture still dere. "But lawsy me, I got to get goin', kase I'se cookln' me a mess of poke sallet I picked down by de railroad tracks dis mornin'• Dat poke sallet and young ernions gwine to be mighty good, and dey sho 'mind me of dem good old days in Pickens county** H.L.D. 5-7-37 Alabama Mary A, Poole, Mobile. jq John Morgan Smith, l*'<5 >0 Editor. NO BELL BRUNG HIM . ,: ji - - _ i_ ___i____________ i_j r * (Photo) Jennie Bov/en was surrounded by numerous little colored children? r.s I came upon her sitting on her front porch* She answered my questions through a mouth void of teeth and. \*rith a constant blinking of her brown eves with their muddy whites. Her little grand-child had to act to some extent as an interpreter, as her speech was at times most indistinct. "Tassum, I remembers lots of things dat happened back in de days of de Cibil War," she said. "I remembers de place whar 1 lived. It were le prettiest house you ever seed. It were on a high hill overlooking a ?.?.!! creek and de flowers frounf in de yard was sompfn to see, shof fnuff* 11 I was bawn in 1847 on &assa Fisher1 s and Mistis Fisher's plan- tation near Camden, Alabama.' Us slaves lived in a row of whitewashed cabins in de rear of de big house. We useta have a mean oberseer, white folks, an1 all de time dere was slaves on our place a runnin1 away* "I acted as nuss for massa's three chilluns, an1 dey learnt me to read an1 write. Ivly pappy was named Burl Fisher an1 he come f fum "•¦"lr jinny v/hen Capfn Fisher brung him. Lly mammy was named G-ra.ce Fisher, an1 she was rrounf de big house mos' of de time a weavin1 an1 a cardin1 '¦"•ol for de slaves, who wo* calico spun in de sunnier an1 wool in de "liter. / -A'n ole nigger man rung a bell for us to git up by, an1 to call '"> fiel1 hanfs in de evenin's. Atter Surrender, dis ole nigger stayed "• ".t on de plantation an1 was a workin1 in de fiel's one day when de -?"'--ber boy rung de bell for de niggers to come in. All of fem came ¦ -¦:fn dis ole man an1 later on dey ax him why he don't cone when dey •'-..:j de bell. Ke answer: 'Tain't no mo1 bell ringinffor dis nigger, aze I is free.! 0 I-; ' , Alabama , - 2 - "De Fishers was Pres'terians an' dey had dere own church on de place. Eve'ybody had to go Gn Sunday; de white folks sittin' in de front, de colored folks in de back. De onl'es' holidays us niggers had v.ras Chris1 mas an1 New Years. On dese days us all exchanged gif's. "My pappy an' mammy atter de war farmed on shares wid Cap'n Fisher. I was ma'ied 'bout dis time, white folks, to Sam Bowen, who long been daid. Us had a big weddin' an' de two Mistis Fishers (Massa's daughters) baked-us a cake an' I sont a piece to all my white frien's for dem to ciream on. Atter * come to Mobile, * changed my 'ligion to lein' a Babtist. "I had ten chilluns, but seven of dem is daid. I is even got fo1 great gran1 chilluns. "Yassura, us had po' white trash back in dem days of de war. Dey lived near our place, an' some of 'em didn't have no niggers at all. Dey worked deyse'f in de fiel's. Us didn't fool 'long wid dem kinds of people dough white folks. Us kep* mostly to ourselves. "Yassum, us house niggers et in de kitchens, dat was separated f'um de main buildin' by a walkway, kivered at de top but not at de ?'des. All de slave chilluns had a grovm nigger woman and a young gal 'bout sixteen to look atter dem, We-alls had a good time an' us was -appy an1 secure.8 '¦fosh. Copy, 5/4/37. Alabama Susielk. J^Srian, 44 Unioi^own,^Alabama. "WHAT I KEER t - ABOUT BEIN' ffBEE^" ••r Nannie Bradfield is a fat little old woman almost as broad as she is long, with a pleasant face and a broad smile which displays white teeth still good at the age of eighty-five. She lives along in a dilapidated cabin which rests in a clump of trees by the side of the railroad. The sagging roof is patched with pieces of rusty tin of many shapes and sizes. "Nannie," I said, !laren't you afraid to live here alone?'1 "How come I be skeered? Ain't nobody gwine bother me S lesen it be a spirit, and dey donft come roun1 kevn on rainy A nights, den all you got to do is say. 'Lawd have mercy!* What you want here.*11 and dey go 'way and leave you 'lone. "Any how I's gittin1 pretty old and I won!t be here so ve'y much longer so I Jes1 as well start gittin1 'quainted wid de spirits." "T'ell me something about your self and your family, Nannie," I said. "Dere ain't nothin' much to tell ' cep I was born in slav'y times and I was fbout twelve year old in May when 'mancipation come, -*y Pa and Ma b1 longed to ^ars James and Miss Rebecca Chambers, Dey Plantation was jes' on de aige of to^n and dats what I was born. -ars James1 son, William was in de war and old Miss would send me to town whar all de sobers tents was, to tote sompen good to eat to dem. I don't 'member much 'bout de war 'cep de tents and de bum hells shootin'. I was little and couldn't do much but * waited on Miss Liz'beth, my young Miss and waited on table, toted battle cakes and sich like . No ma'am I don't know nothin8 'tall 'bout de -atterollers or de Kiu Kluxers but L know all 'bout de conjer Alabama - 2 - doctors. Dey sho' kin fix: you. Dey kin take yo* garter or yo stockin1 t$p and drap it in runnin1 water and make you run de res1 of yo1 life, you111 be in a hurry all de time, and if dey gits holt of a piece of de^seat of yof draw1s dey sprinkles a little conjer powder on it and burns it den you can't never set down in no peace. You Jes* like you settin' on a coal of fiah 'till you git somebody to take de spell offen you." "Nannie were you glad when the war was over and you were free?" "What I keer 'bout bein1 free? Didnft old Marster give us plenty good sompin to eat and clo's to wear? I stayed on de plan- tation 'till I mah'ied. My old Miss give me a brown dress and hat* 7/ell dat dress put me in de country, if you mahie in brown you111 live in de country." "Marry in brown you111 live out of town?" I quoted. "Dats it my remembrance ain't so good and ^ fergits. "No ma'am, I ain't got no chillun, but Bradfield had plenty un urn, I was his fouf wife. He died 'bout three years ago and he done well to live dat long wid all dera wimens to nag him. De Bible say io!s better to climb on top of the house and set, den to live in- side wid a naggin1 'oman.11 Washington Copy, 8/16/57. L. H 45 Mabel ffarrior, Alabsaa ftOQK Lois I°mn' W3 'Hf** ^¦¦r (Photo) '"" 7^ / Aunt Martha as she is known to all her "white folks," claims to "be 100 years old. She was a slave to Dr. Lucas of Mt. Meigs neighborhood long "before the War between the States* Dr. Lucas is one of the well known Lucas family, with whom General LaJayette spent some time while touring the United States in 182^. "Our Marster wuz sho good to all his "niggers11 She said. Us allus had plenty to eat and plenty to wear, "but de days now is hard, if white folks gin you a nickel or dime to git you sumpin1 t* eat you has to write everything down in a hook before you can git it. I allus worked in the field, had to carry big logs,had strops on my arms and them logs was put in de strop and hauled to a pile where they all wuz. One morning hit was rainin1 ad I didn* wanna go to the field, hut de oversee1 he come and got me and started whooping me, I jumped on him and hit and kicked him ftil he lemme go, I didn't know no "better then, I dicta.11 know he was de one to do dat." "But Marster Lucas gin us "big times on Christmas arid July. Us !ud have "big dinners and all the lemonade us could drink. The dinner1 d "be spread out on de ground an1 all the niggers would stand roun' and eat all dey wanted. What was lef' as1 d take it to our cahins. Nancy Lucas wuz de cook fer eber1 "body, fell, she'd sho cook good cake and had plenty of fem "but she wouldn't lak to cut dem cakes often. She keep fem in a safe. One day I go to dat safe and I seed some and I waited it so bad till I jes' had to have some. Nancy say to me, 'Martha, did you cut dat cake? fI say, No sir! dat knife just flew froun "by itself and cut dat cake.1 "One day I wuz workin' in de field and de overseer he come 'roun and say sumpin1 to me he had no bizness say. I took my hoe and knocked him plum down* I knowed Ifse done suirrpin1 had so I run to de bushes. Marster Lucas come and got me/started ffhoopin1 me. I say to Marster Lacas whut dat overseer sez to me and Marster Lucas aidn' hit me no more. Marse Lucas waz allus good to us and he wouldn1 let no "body run nv'er his niggers. » Alabama - 2 - * "There wuz plenty white flks dat wuz sho "bad to de niggers, and specially dem overseers• A nigger whut lived on the plantation jinin* ours shot and killed an overseer; den he run 'way. He come to de river and seed a white man on udder side and say, 'Gome and git me.1 Well, when dey got him dey found out whut hefd done, and wuz gwine to "burn him flive. Jedge Clements, the man dat keep law and order, say he wouldn't "burn a dog flive, so he lef1. But dey sho "burn dat nigger 'live for I seed him atter he wuz "burned up» M1Jsfd go to meetin1 to de Antioch Church some Sundays. Usfd go to de house and git a pass* When usfd pass "by the patterole, us jes1 hold up our pass and den usfd go on. Dar wuz a 'vidin* ftwixt de niggers and de white folks. De white preacher1 d preach; den de colored man* TJs!d stay at church most all day. Hxen we didn1 go to church, usfd git together in the quarters and have preachin1 and singin1 amongst ourselves.11 MIn cotton pickin1 time us!d stay in de field till way atter dark and usfd pick oy candle light and den carry hit and put hit on de scaffold. In de winter time us*d quilt; jes1 go from one house to anudder in de quarter. Usfd weave all our ever1 day clothes but Marster lAicasfd go to Mobile ever1 July and Christmas and git our Sunday clothes, git us dresses and shoes and we*d sho he proud of •em.* f,In slavery time dey doctored de sick folks difffunt frum what dey does now. I seed a man so sick dey had to put medicine down his tho'at lak he wuz a horse. Dat man got well and sho lived to turn a key in de jail. Bf it wuz in dese days cLat man would "be cay'd to de hospital and cut open lak a hawg. n ^Dere wuz a slave whut lived in Macon county* He run *way and when he wuz cctched dey dug a hole in de ground and put him crost it and "beat him nigh to fash. Copy, 5A/37. U H. 47 VVvJtr/t.itA ' . \ ijM^f Gertha Couric oxyi'X Ah'A / CuiTCLE ALLEN BROWN, "I$Nigh a Hunderd" Ira Dordan Uncle Allen is a thin little man with a short white beard that hides nothing of his ready, toothless smile always evident when conversing with "de white folks" and contributes to his dig- nified mien when solemnly lecturing to "de niggers" about their "no 'count ways." He is as deaf as the proverbial post, and, once launched into a discourse, rambles on to its end without regard to interruptions. Asked to tell something of his early life, he said: "I is nigh on to a hunderd yeahs old, Suh, and I was brung to dis country "from Virginny whar I was bawn. My mammy's mahster was raovin' from Virginny to Texas, and when he go dis fur he sole p.e and my mammy to Ilahster McRea. Den Mahster McRea lie give me to ; iss Julia; den Hiss Julia she mahi'd Mahs Henry Young and I was . "K I saw him hangin1 on a tree In agony an1 blood He fixed his languid eyes on me As near his cross I stood. Sho1 never till my latter breath U-- Kin I forgit dat look He seemed to change me wid his death Yit not a word he spoke* My conscience felt an1 owned de |uilt An1 plunged me in despair I saw my sins his bloo£ had spilt An1 helped to nail him dere. Yassum, I kin tell you things about slavery times dat would make yo1 blood bile, but dey's too turrible* I Jus1 tries to for- git. 111 could tell you fbout -bein1 run myself wid dem nigger dogs, ut I ain't gwineter do it. I will tell you dough fbout a mean man who whupped a cullid woman near 'bout to death. She got so mad at him dat she tuk his baby chile whut was playin1 roun* de yard and grab him up an1 thfowed it in a pot of lye dat she was nsin1 to wash wid. His wife come a-hollin1 an1 run her arms down 1m de boilin1 lye to git de chile out, an1 she near fbout burnt her n.rms off, but it didnft do no good fcaze when she jerked de chile -;ut he was da id. "One day I seed ole Unker Tip Toe all bent over a-comin1 down de road an1 I ax him whut ail him an1 he say: •I's been in de stocks an1 been beat till de blood come, Den ole Eassa • ninted my flesh wid red papper an1 turpentine an1 Ifs been most dead but T is somewhat better now.1 Unker Tiptoe belonged to de meanes1 clf marster around here. HBut, honey, I ain't never tol5 nobody all dis anf ainft gwine "rell you no mof. Ride me home now, caze Xfs cripple; a cow was de Alabama - 4 - 6! cause of it* She drug rae roun1 dat new orchard whut I planted las1 fall. She done run away wid me, Mistis I wished you would do me a favor an1 write my son in Texas an1 tell him dat I say if fen he 'specks me to make him anymo1 of dem star quilts, he better come on here an1 kiver my house, De roof shof does leak bad, rt '"ash. Copy T.E.E. 6/17/37 ^ 62 h Alabama Mary A. Poole w STORY OF EMMA CHAPMAN, EX-SLAVE. Living in a small room in the rear of a house at 361 Augusta Street, Mobile, Alabama, the writer located an interesting ex-slave Emma Chapman, **¦* when first approached was somewhat reticent. I soon learned I had arrived just as she was ready to have her breakfast, which consisted of bread and coffee, and insisted she eat first and talk afterwards, as she had made Just about enough fire in the open fireplace to boil the coffee* While she followed my suggestion I glanced about the room and found it very neat and tidy and an unusually comfortable looking double bed, a mirrored door chifferobe and two trunks one rocking, chair and a couple of straight chairs, a table containing all cook- ing utensils and food containers* The walls were covered with sheets of manilla wrapping paper, tacked on, and part of the ceil- ing patched with odds and ends of corrugated paper. Emma is small in stature, of light complexion with greying hair arranged in neat braids around her head, very clean in appearance? Emma said she was about 13 years of age at the time of the surrender, and that she was born on the plantation of Jfiev# Mr. Montgomery Curry^of Jjharles%QXip S# C# When she was about 3 years of age Mr. Curry moved to Pickens County, Alabama, about 5 miles from Carrollton and 8 miles from Pickenville. when I asked why they mc^ed^OjAlabama^ %ma laugl^ expected to find money growing pn trees in Alabama, and that she as a child came near being M snake jpl%.*. many a time, digging around the roots of old trees, trying to find money. ) Rev. Montgomery Curry, said Emma, was married to Ann Haynie, tfhose parents were Aaron and Francis Hudson Haynie, and Emraa!s Alabama - 2 - g3 grandmother was Lucy Linier, who was born in Virginia and was sold to Mr. Haynie to pay a debt. Lucy Linier was nurse for his daughter Ann and when she married Mr. Curry, she brought Lucy with her to her new home. The Curry's had three children, a boy and two girls, and it was Lucy Linier's daughter^Patsy., who acted as their nurse. The home of Rev. and Mrs. Montgomery Curry was a two-story log house with wide open hall running the entire length of the house^l*JL, \k*& cU ¦v«s.X -¦ct-.-r-.-t j with roonns opening off either side. The kitchen was out a from the main house, with the dairy between the two, under a large hickory tree. The slave quarters were also built of logs, with space between for a shed room and small garden plot and a few chickens. The slave women did not go to the fields on Saturday as that was their day to clean up around their homes. They usually washed their clothes at night and hung them on the bushes where they were left to dry in the sunshine, maybe a couple of days, as no one could or would disturb them. Rev. Montgomery.was a Baptist preacher and had no overseer, ex- cept Lucy Linier and her husband, Emma's grandparents, who kept a supervision over the slaves about 40 in number. There was no whip- ping allowed on the curry plantation, and after the death of ReyjiAjur^L- Curry.Mrs. Ann Curry, (his widow) ran the plantation under the same system. The patrollers had no Jurisdiction over the Curry slaves*} they were given permits by the Curry's to go 8nd come, and Emma srid if one of those patrollers whipped one of "ole Miss*5 slaves, 3he would have sure sued them. Emma laughingly said the slaves on other plantations always s~id the Curry slaves were "free niggers,M as they could always get Alabama » 3 - permits, and had plenty to eat and milk to drink. The slaves cooked their breakfastSin their own cabins, but dinner and supper was cooked in the kitchen and each came with their pan to be filled and had their own gourds which were grown on the place to drink their milk and of which they could have full and plenty. During the war they cooked for the ^confederate soldiers encamped nearby and great quantities were prepare^sm* Emma was one of those delegated to carry the food to the camp. All Ishe ever saw of the Yankee's were two who stopped at the house and asked for something to eat. Mrs. Montgomery invited them in and served the best she had. One of the men wanted to take the last mule she had and the other said "No, Mrs. Montgomery is a widow and from the appearance of her slaves she has treated them well." Mrs. Montgomery told them that someone had stolen her saddle horse and the soldier who had remonstrated with the other replied: "Madam, your saddle horse will be returned in three weeks," and sure Is enoug, one night about midnight they heard a horse whinny and Emma's grandfather said "there is oldjspunk," and there was old spunk waiting outside. ""* Emma said the first whipping she ever had, was after the Surren- der, given her by her own father when they left Alabama and went to live near Columbus, Miss. |>-6 She had always lived in the house with the "old Miss" and her young Miss, and when she had to leave them, she cried and so did they. Her grandmother Lucy L^nier nursed "Miss Ann"; Lucy's daughter Patsy, nursed "Miss Ann's" children, and was the special property of Fannie Montgomery., who married a Mr. Sidney Lipscorab and whose ch ildren Emma helped to look after, so the three generations were Interwoven. Alabama - 4 - (3£> Emma only wishes she could go back to plantation day^ all her trials and suffering came after she left r,01e Miss," and went to live with her father and mother, George and Patsy Curry, who hadhfourteen children and of which Emma was the eldest. Her father who was a nuadroon in oast was iiimiwii to his family, and especially so to hei^f-, fft~- t\ ***** ¦nade her work like a manPcutting timber, splitting rails, digging, olanting and all work of the farnu Now, Emma is the only member of her family leftgfo'o^p^ She married three times, having only two children, a girl and a boy, these by her last husband, Prank Chapman, now dead, and Emma has no knowledge of her children1s whereabouts* She gave them an edu- ce t ion so they could write to her if they wanted to. The girl carried and left Mobile, the boy went to Chicago, was chauffeur for some rich folkgrj) his last letter several years ago, in which he enclosed $25,00 stated he was going on a trip to Jerusalem with one of the young men of the family. p t r\ 7-17-37 Alabama 10194 Ila B. Prine, John Morgan Smith, (PHOTO) Editorial Department I HEARD LINCOLN SET US FREE "White folks, I'se glad you drapped by to have a talk wid me. I was gittin' powerfully lonely," said Henry Cheatem, who lives in ;..arysville, a Liobile suburb. "Sho' I'll be glad to tell you some ;-bout de slave days. I sho' 'members plenty. Well, to begin wid, I as born in 1850 near West Point. Dat's in Clay County, Missis- sippi, you know. I b'longed to Mr. Tom Hollingshead who was killed in de Cibil War. I 'members all de slaves agoin' in to take a last look at him atter aey done brung his body home. "Liy mammy's name was Enimeline Cheatam, an' my pappy's was Sam y { Cheatam. I don't remember my grandpappy an' grandmamray atall. "Us slaves libed in log cabins what was daubed wid clay to keeo de rain an1 win' out, an' de chimneys was made of clay an' sticks* \ De beds was home-made an1 nailed agin1 de wall wid legs on c\e outer side. De Hassa1s house was built of logs too, but it was much bigger!n de nigger cabins an1 sot way out in front of ourn. .ntter de massa was kilt, old Hiss had a nigger oberseer an1 dat was :e meanest debil dat eber libbed on de Lawd1 s green yeartji* I ¦¦.roaise myself when I growed up dat I was agoin1 to kill dat nigger i-ffen it was de las1 thing I eber done. Lots of times I*se seen aim beat my mammy, an1 one day I seen him beat my Auntie who was oiz wid a chile, an1 dat man dug a roun1 hole in de groun1 an1 put irr stummick in it, an1 beat an1 beat her for a half hour straight till de baby come out raght dere in de hole* )[ "Why de Uistis 'low such treatment? A heap of times ole Miss . o.ioi^t know nuthin1 *bout it, an1 de slaves better not tell her, *Qhze dat oberseer whup fem iff en he finds out dat dey done gone an1 tol». Yassuft, white folks, Ifse seed some turrible things in my Alabam% /".;;;-. ;.'. ¦.¦:':.;.;':' '..J.;^v *fp|t*«* ; £; ^CC^^^M^JHf'^iM time. -: T:lhen< d^islave^ : chains On dere ^egs, wid '.b$g^#ong-^§&es;::Hwe^ ¦; couldn11 git* awayv slen¦^gf^seen;-great4bua6feeMvQfeelayegupi^t .'.t^^-:^ .' on de bloek anf sol^ jus* lak dey w&sweows* SoffietiJaes de'e&illteg : would be seprated from derevmaws an1 paws* WI come pretty near to bein1 tuk away from my maw. When de slaves was bein1 »vided, one of ole Miss* datters was agoin* to Texas, an1 I was goin* to have to go when somebody hollered 'Pree^ dom», an1-I shoJ was glad «caze I oould* stay widay maiiay not ? ¦In dose days us had plenty of good, plain food; sm^h ag/%bt likker, greens, ©ornbread, Haters, peas, pears, an* at hog killim1 us had ehittlin's an* pig jowls an1 back b'Oft^*iA.;-B*n;Ufl/-wB^l#^^0li^:.: •posstiaisat^ night when deycoae up in de ©ojmyftelA*; IJs n^erii#gd no flour dsmgh. ¦.¦¦¦;•¦'. ',¦$*» "As for fishin1, we neber did none, rca£e we hadda work too hard, fe worked from ''can to can't,1 Git up at sunrise, go to de fiel1 an* stay till dark. In de middle of de day dey would sea* our socip«n tieafc to de fiel1 wid a barrel of water. Bat for breakfas1 sin1 supper, us hadda cook our own'grub dey gib us. "Our clos# warn't many. Us chilluns wo' a one-piece suit :r:c.de outen ausenberg, an1 us would hab to take dat off at nigh% v.ssh it an' put it back on de nex' day. As for shoes, ohillua neber had none. You see, white folks, I was jus1 a chile, jus1 big' enough to tote water to de fiel'e. »I Members when de Yankees was acomin* through I hoped to cc'y de hosses to de woods an' hoped to Mdede meat an* bury de valu»bles, *ea2e dem Yankees tuk whatever dey Wanted; ami yoii bei||| not say nothin* neither * cage dey; had dem ls^;v.s«|rords ¦ ahangin* :jfM?/';: sere'sides-; :-\'/,;v-;;* . ¦.;. :'v. ;¦"*¦ ' ^'M-^^^^M "In dem days, de slaves done all de work an* carried all de news* Be marete're sont notes from one plantation to anudder,1 an' when dey wanted / "Us didn't have hotiiin1 but£o©& an1 clothes. We didhH fia¥e '>'-......- ¦• ¦ ¦ ¦ - '•¦ *- '••>¦¦ ; ¦•• • -try*- -•'¦¦ •* ¦¦'¦••¦ -u> J ;^' "' ¦' • ¦ •- - ' # t "V »> A§,% no garden of our oto an1 dere wah'Vnb celebrattn', tceptln' 'Ut Big ftllin'. Dat was de bigges' day of de year. Alabama - 4 - H0n Sat'day afternoon we was 'lowed to play, but I can't 'member none of de games. Us jus* played lak all li*l niggers did den. At night time us jus* went to our cabins an* went to bed, 'case we warn't 'lowed to do no singing. Mos' of de singin* was done in de fiel's. "Cornshuckin' time come when dey wanted to git de seed corn for plantin1, an1 us would commence de shuckin1 when it commence rainin*. "You axed me 'bout funerals an' weddin's. Us niggers nebber lua'led an' don't 'member any big weddin's of de white folks. But dey buried folks den de same as dey does now, in a box. Dey would bury de slaves same as dey done de white folks, but us didn't eben have no babtizin' on 'count of dat oberseer. He didn't lak for us to git no religion. Cose all slaves didn't have hard treatment lak us did, 'caze dere oberseer an1 Marster warn't as mean as ourn. "No'm we didn't know nothin1 'bout no hoodoo stuff in dem days. Dey only had homemade medicines, dat is unless dey got sho' nuff powerful sick an' den dey would go to see a doctor. Us used bone- set tea made from a weed. Lawd, it was bitterer dan quinine, an' it were good for de chills an' fever- an' it would purge you too. Sen us used life-everlastin' tea for fever, an1 Jerusalem bresh,^ "•eed to git rid of worms. "But, Miss, I knows dere is gostes, 'caze when I was a little foy my mammy come in from de fiel' an' laid across de bed an1 I v.: 3 sittin' in front of de fireplace an' a big somp'n lak a cow v.lclout no haid come in de do' an' I commence to beat on it wid my ?ists# Den my mammy say: 'What matter wid you, nigger?1 Den dat 69 J Alabama - 5 - critter he walk raght out de do1* I looked outen de window an1 dere it was a-goin' in Aunt Marfa's cabin, I neber did see it no mo1. Den anudder time a white man died an1 my mammy was a stayin1 v:id his sister an1 dis spirit lak an agel come to my mammy an1 tol1 her to tell de white lady to read de Bible backards three times, 1 eaze dere was one talent ftween her an1 Jesus* Atter dat she were comforted* Anudder time, my pappy, Sam Cheatam, who was a wicked man, was a-sittin' in front of de fipin an1 a big brindle dog come to de do1 an1 started barkin1. My pappy say: *WJiat in de Hell am dat?1 an1 snapped his fingers at de dog. De dog he den dropped o.aid# Some folks say dat dere ainft no sich things as gostes, but I know dere is, 'caze dere is good spirits an1 bad spirits* ( HDeni was good ol1 days, Mistis, even if fen us did have a hard ti;:;e, an1 I don't know iff en it wam't better'n it is now. I has to alaos1 go hongjry, an1 I can't git no hefp from de government, 'caze \ I is over 65 years old* Fact is, I believe I druther be alivin1 :| b&ck dere dan today fcaze us at least had plenty somp'n feat an1 othin' to worry about* An1 as for beatin'; dey beats folks now | Iffen dey don't do raght, so what's de difference. Yassum, Mistis, worked as long as I was able an? didn't axe nobody for nothin', ov.t now it's diff'rent, 'caze I ain't able to do no work. I'se tried to do raght and ain't never been in but one fight in my life, ~r now belongs to de Corinthian Babtist Church, an' I's/tryin' to live so when de good Lawd calls I'LL be ready to answer wid a clean ¦I'se had two tives, but I was only a young nigger when I had 70 Alabama - 6 - de fust un, an1 had two chilluns by her, den I lef* her 'caze she warn't no 'count. Dats been forty year ago, an' I ain't neber seen my chilluns in all dem years. My second wife I got when I lived th^ty miles below Birmingham, Alabama, at de ol' Bank Mines. Dats been thirty-five year ago an' us is still together. Us ain't neber had no chilluns. No'm, I don't know nothin' 'bout Abe Lincoln 'ceptin* dey say he sot us free, an' I don't know nothin1 'bout dat neither. Wash. Copy I.E.B. & R.L.D. G/8/37 71 Alabama; r •/"" .">>*¦¦." - Htby Ptokens Tartt, / A „ j Livingston, Alabama. ( f\& ) Iik>p.ck in waggins. En he fotch ole Julie Powell and Henry to look atter us. Wa'n't none of dera ten chillun no kin to me, and he never bought •iy mammy, so I had to leave her behine. "I recollect Mararay said to old Julie, 'Take keer my baby chile i Uat was me) and iffen I never sees her no mo1 raise her for G-od.' Den h* fell off de wag-gin where us was all settin' and roll over on de "oun' jes1 acryin'. But us was eatin' candy what dey done give us for l° ---eep us quite, and I didn'$ have sense 'nuff for to know what ailed vr:;y, but I knows now and I neve^r seed her no mo' in dis life. When 1 leered frora her atter S'render she done dead and buried. Her name was •"•i:chel Powell. My pappy's name I don't know ca'se he done been sole to -^ erhars else when I was too little to recollect. But my mararay was d« ¦other of twenty-two chillun and she had twins in her lap when us driv' off. My gran'Haaramy said when I lef' 'Pray, Laura, and be er good gal, Alabama- - 2 - and mine bofe white and black. Ev'body will lack jfg and iffen you \ A never see me no mo' pray to meet me in heaven. Den she cried. Her name was Rose Powell. "Us all started den for Mr. G-arrett's plantation down yonder in de bend, ten chillun and two ole uns, and two white men, and us was travellin' solid a month. Fuss thing Ole Marsa say was 'Now be good ter ' dese motherless chillun.' Den he went to war, and de overseers forgot all 'bout dey promise. When Ole Marsa come back he done got his arm shot off, but he let bofe dem overseers go, ca'se dey done whupped dat ole ' oman what corae wid us fc»r deaf. She Drought her two little boys, Colvin and 'Lias, but Joe, dey pappy, didn't come - he was sole 'fo Lias was bawn. Joe never seed 'Lias. ^"""^I sets cross de road here from dat church over yonder and can't go 'ca'se I'm cripple' and blin', but I^heers urn singin'J A motherless chile sees a hardtime Oh, Lord, he'p her on de road. Er sister will do de bes' she kin Dis is a hard world, Lord, fer a motherless chile. "And I jes' busts out cryin'. Dat was de song I had in view to for you, hit's so mournful. I knowed 'twa'n't no re^l, 'twa'nH \ sin nothin' lack no reel, 'ca'se I been b'longin' to de church for fifty- five years, and I dean fancy no reel. I'm glad I got hit to my raine 'fo' you lef. But ray recollection is shaller. I ain't never read no verse in no Bible in my life, ca'se I can't read. Some my chillun kin, thou-'h. My husban' died and lef' me wid nine chillun, none of urn 51 couldn't pufcfc de others outer de fire iffen dey fell in. I had rao'n Sat, hut some come here dead and some didn't. I got chillun dead in siriingham and Bessemer. Dey ain't a graveyard, in dis here settlement 'roun' Prospect where i ain't got chillun buried. Hettie Ann, right UT> dere ter Mr. Hawkins' graveyard, and my boy whut got killed settin1 Alabama ... - - 3 - • on de side de road eatin' his dinner, he buried in Captain Jones' place in de bend yonder. ¦¦-> Tassura, I been drug about and put through de shackles so bad I done forgot some of dey names, and * mos' blin' now and can't hear ^•ood neither. But ray eyes is good nuff for to see ghosts, but I don't Vlieve in 'em, 'ca'se I'd see dem chillun sometime effen dey was I ' phostes. I know I d see my boy, ca se dey showed me his head whar dat filler boy hit hira in de head wid a spade and split his head wide open, slip up behln' hira and all he said was "Squeek,' jes' lack a hog, and he was dead. And de murderer live right here but dey move and now I m here. When hit rain us jes' gets under de bed 'ca'se de house ain't ^ot no top on hit. "I can't say Marse G-arrett wa'n't good to us motherless chillun out de overseer, Mr. Woodson Tucker, was mean' as anybody. He'd whup you nigh 'bout to deaf, and had a whuppin' log what he strip 'em back np.ked and lay 'era on de log. He whup 'em wid a wide strop, wider'n my han', den he pop'de blisters what he raise and 'nint 'em wid red pepper, salt, and vinegar. Den he put 'era in de house dey call de pest house and have a ' oman stay dere to keep de flys offen 'em 'twell dey get e.ole to move. Den dey had reg'lar men in de fields wid spades, and iffen you didn't do what you git tole, de overseer would wrop dat strap 'roun' his han1 and hit you in de haid wid de wooden handle 'til he •¦'lit you. Den de mens would dig a hole wid de spades and throw 'em.in -***' right dere in de fiel' Jes1 lack dey was cows—didn't have no *' n^ral nor nothin'. "Us had a heap of houses in de quarters right on bofe sides de "i.; ^ouse. Us could step outer one house to 'tother. But, Miss, I ¦Han't work so hard or have no trouble either. I was in de house atter ••arsa come home and foun' me splittin* rails and plowin'. He 'lowed MamM' - 4 - J*<5| dey done put me in too hard a ship, arid I was too little, so he tuck me to de house to draw water and wash dishes, 'ca'se I was a little motherless gal. Ole Marsa done a good part by me, and I was married to my fuss husban', Gary Crockett, right dere in de parlor. He tole de overseer dat us was human and had feelin's same as him, so he re- jected de paterrollers and made 'em git off de place. I was treated good, 'ca se I 'merabered what my gran'ma say, and whatever dey tole me to put my han' to, I did, and * was obedient and wasn't ha^dheaded lack I /\ some de res.' I had no trouble, and wasn't 'buked none. But I's had iiio' touble las' ten years wid ray own chillun den I ever did in slav'y tine. Dey gives rae sich bitter words till I can't swaller 'em and I jes' sets and cries. I can't read no songs to comfoAi me, Jes1 ketch 'em from de preacher on de stan' and hole 'era, dat'a de way I ketch ~!" larnin'. /" "Las' sermon i hyard, he tuck his tex' en said, 'Don't nobody fen rob God.' Den he say, 'Ef/you is goin' to 'tend to serve &od, serve '--im in de full, 'ca'se G-od don't never bat a eye, nor turn His haid ind he kin see you. He frowns at ev'y sin, but He's a sinfergivin' rr,' I use to know a heap 'bout de L0rd, but I'm so cripple' and ¦'-Un1 since de ca'f jumped on my foot I can't go to church no mo1, so done forgot. "You ax 'bout dem flowers en de po'ch - I sho' wish dey was mine, Pu could have 'em 'ca'se dey ain't room nuff wid dem for me ter sit 7;'-e-r ¦!• desire. Us ain't got no meal and here 'tis jes' Tuesday - no ^' 'till Saddy. Sho' is bad; us .jes' 'pends on de neighbors and borrys." Copy, 715/37. Alabama Preston Klein, ^p- Jack Kytle, '° 10124 ^ DE YANKS DRAPPED /- / ' OUTEN DE SKY, w/ ^ "Aunt" Hattie Clayton said, "I'se gittin* erroun1 de ninety notch, honey, an1 I reckon de Kingdom ainft fur away*" She lives in a tiny cabin not far from Opelika. Her shoulders pre bent; her hair gray, but she still does a large amount of house- work. She likes to sit on the tumbledown front porch on summer after- noons, plying her knitting needles and stretching her aged legs in the warm sunlight* MfTwuz a long time ago, honey," she observed when talk of slave- ry days was brought up, "but I 'members as ef 'twuz yestidy. My ol1 ::iistus wuz de bidder Day* She owned a plantation clos't to ^aF&yette an1 she was mighty good to us niggers* "01f Hiatus boughten me when I was jus1 a little tyke, so I don't member fbout my pappy an1 mammy* "Honey, I 'members dat us little chilluns didn't go to de fiel's tvrel us was big 'nuff to keep up a row. De oberseer, Harse Joe Harris, ::iade us work, but he wa^ good to us* Ol' Llistus, she wouldn't let us v:uk whin it wuz rain in' an1 cold.11 Asked about pleasures of the old plantation life, she chuckled and recalled! ^ 1,T kin he ah de banjers yit. Law me, us had a good time in dem clr.ys. Us danced most eb'ry Sattidy night an' us made de rafters shake vrid us foots. Lots o times Ole L'iisus would come to de dances aYi loo!: on. An1 v/hin er bra§Jfcaigger boy cut a cute bunch uv steps, de ¦¦ienfolks would give 'irn a dime or so. "Honey, us went t* de church on a Sundays. I allus did lak sin-in' and I loved de ol' songs lak, »0i» Ship of Zion, an1 "Happy Alabama ' ! - 2 - u^i 77] Land.' Olf Mistus useter take all de little scamps dat was too little for church an1 -read de Book to dem under de big oak tree in de front yahd." "Aunt Hattie,w she was asked, Hdo you remember anything about the War between the States?" "You mean de Yankees, honey?" "Yes, the Yankees." Her coal black face clouded. "Dey skeered us nearly to death,* she began. "Dey drap right L'out en de sky. 01* Mistus #eep hearln* dey was comin, • but dey didnft nebber show up. Den, all ter once, dey was swarmin1 all ober de place \ffid deir blue coats aL-shinin' a? deir horses a&rarin'. \ "Us chilluns run en hid in de fence corners en' behin1 quilts • dat was hangin' on de line. An' honey, dem Yankees rid deir horses rat « onto 01* Mistus flower beds. Dey hunted de silver, too, but us done hid dat. "I 'members dey wuz mad. Dey sot de house a-fire an' tuk all de vittals dey could fin.' I run away an' got los', an* whin I come back all de folks was gone." -3*Aunt Hattie said she "wint down de big road an' come to a ladyfs house where she remained until she married. "Us moved to £a2Payette an' den to Opelika,8 she concluded, "an1 -bin* here eber since." ... She lives with one of her numerous granddaughters now. She finds her great happiness in de promise and the moments when she can sit i;i the shade and dip her mind back into memory. Pash Copy, ?/25/37. L. v Alabama ±0229 G. L. Clark A, B. Johnson 78 "SHORTY" WADLEY CLBSOKS He was bent over the lawn, carefully trimming the border into a neat line. A small black figure in overalls, clean but worn blue chambray shirt, the misshapen remains of shoes and a nondescript hat, from under whioh protruded thin white sideburns, "Good morning, Uncle," I said, "Mr. Lee was telling me about you. He said you lived back in slavery times. Is that right?" "Yes suh, I sho' did. I'll be 92 years old de second of August, and I was a slave for 20 year, I had a good ole massa and mistis, de bes' dere was, Ole massa was a great big man, an' he wa'n't soared of nothin* dey was. He wouldn't go nowhere with- out me. He always took me wld him. My grandma was a cook and my ma was a house girl, "We lived in Pine Hill, a summer resort in Jefferson County, Georgia, across the river from Louisville, Prom home we could look over and see de people walkin' about in Louisville, "I remembers de day de Yankees come to Louisville, We could see them goin* about from one house to anudder, sett in' fire. Den dey come on to de river and sot fire to de bridge. Dey wouldn't use our bridge, Dey built dese here pontoon bridges and dey could build dem before you could look away and look back. Den dey come across de river to pine Hill. "Ole massa had his bosses an' mules hid down in de swamp but my uncle Tom went and got 'em an* brung 'em to de Yankees at de big gate. He didn't had to do it. He was jes' mean. He hadn't been much good to massa since de war commenced; lay off in de swamp mos' of de time, Arter he brung massa's hosses an' muibes to de Alabama - 2 - . 79 Yankees he went wid item into massa*s bedroom and dey jes' throwed massa and mist is close all out a* de closet and wardrobe and he give em* mistis gold yearings and bracelets and dey took de yearings and put dem on de hosses' years and put de bracelets on de hosses' ankles, "Ole massa was sittin' on de long porch smokin' one of dese Meerschaum pipes wid a stem way so long and dat pipe was white as snow. He had a big can of tobacco on de table in front of him. In dem days people made dey own tobacco and I wisht I had some of it now. "Massa had 'bout thutty fattening hogs and de Yankees jes' went in de pen and cut dem hogs in two. He had jes' lots of turkeys and guineas an' de Yankees shot dem down. He had thutty hives of bees in one long row an* one Yankee run up to de firs' hive and jump in it head first, and de bees stung him till he died. De udders pull him out and took him to de well and poured water over him but he stayed dead so dey just dug a hole down by the side of the road and bur;?y him in it. Yessir, dat's de trufej "Dey stayed dere all night and camped out and cooked massa»s good smoked meat and burnt down de barns and done all de devilment dey could. I couldn't see no use in dere doin' what dey did, but dat's what dey done. "Massa had 71 slaves when dey was made free. De next county wasn't fit for much farming and atter we was freed my Uncle Andy went dere an' bought a place. De land sold for 50 cents de acre atter de timber was cut off. Uncle Andy had a brudder Sam and Sam had a steer. Dey plowed wid de steer. Alabama - 3 - 80 "Uncle Andy worked at de sawmill in daytime an* at night he cut two cords of wood before he go to bed. He make two bales of cotton de first year and de next year he make four. Den he tuk up preachin*. He was a Methodist preacher, "Den ole massa die and ole mistis lose all her land. Uncle Andy was right good fixed so he took keer of her a year or more ?fore she died. Den when she died, he went to pay all de expenses of de funeral but de white folks won*t let him kase dey say he done his share already. "My massa*s name was William Clemens and dey name me Wadley for ole man Wadley, de president of de Center Road, "Bern days is gone a long time an* I still heah, but dey was good times den. I had plenty to eat, plenty close to wear and when I gets sick, ole massa come to give me some medicine and I don»t need no doctor, "People worship God in dem days and not bother wid church houses so much. Ev*ry Sunday ole massa get out by de back do* and teach us Sunday school. Den we cut tree limbs and make brush arbors for preaching. In de summer atter crops been laid by, us all, black and white, go to camp meetin* and stay a week. De white preacher preach on one side and de nigger on de udder. We carry lots of vittles and feed everybody. Niggers sho* was better off in slavery times." .Alabama . ^ {h, ?-ii^ , r, John Morgan Smith, lO^OD „ iM. Editorial Department. HY MASTER WAS A MEAII MM. /&1 f ..-.,- MSho, I remember de tisaflSEy- days. How could I f;orgits?M A*1 «, / , \ > Slowly Uncle Will spoke these words as he made his way up a few rickety stc vrith the aid of an old "broomstick to his cabin door* wWe can jes* set in de swing effen you wants to hear a little !bout dem ole days, kaze I can sho tell it.** ^Well, first, Uncle Will, what!s your full name and where are you from?* ( ttMy name am William Colbert and I*se fum Jawja* I was bawn in 12&U on my massa* s plantation in Fort Valley* My massafs name wuz Jim Hodison* At one time he had 165 of us niggers.M Uncle Will, a gaunt, "black figure with two weeks growth of gray hair upon his face, spoke in a soft, quaking voice scarcely audible ten feet away. His eyes had. a faroff, sad expression of one who had known suffering. They were set deep back in "bony caverns* "Well, Uncle Will, tell me something about the slave days. Was your master good to you?" w33awsuh, he wamft good to none of us niggers. All de niggers frounf hated to be "bought "by him kaze he wuz so mean. When he wuz too tired to whup us he had de oberseer do it; and de overseer wuz meaner dan de massa* Butt lMister, de peoples *iz de same as dey is now* Dere wuz good uns and had uns. I jus1 happened to "belong H*o a ^&d un« One day I remembers my brother, January wuz cotched ober seein* a gal 2 de next plantation* He had a pass hut de time on it done gib out* Well suh, when jj*3.?;assa found out dat he wuz a hour late, he got as mad as a hive of bees. So when -"other January he come home, de massa took down his long mule skinner and tied him a rope to a pine tree. He strip1 his shirt off and said; l,f$ow, nigger, I!m goin* to teach you some sense."% uWid dat he started layin1 on de lashes. January was a big, fine lookin* nigger, finest I ever seed. He wuz jus1 four years older dan me, an* when de raasaa begin a j^tin1 him, January neber said a word* De massa got madder and madder kaze he couldn't Ne January holla* Alabama - 2 - ' MT£hat's de matter wid you, nigger?" fhe say.1 "Don't it hurt?"1 82 it *¦%*¦' "January, he neber said nothin1, and de massa keep a beatin' till little >^1^T streams of blood started flowin1 down Januaryfs chest, but he neber holler. His lips wuz a quiverin' and his body wuz a shakin1, but his mouf it neber open; and all de while I sat on my mammy's and pappy1 s steps a cryin1. De niggers wuz all gathered about and some uv feia couldn't stand it; dey hadda go inside dere cabins, Atter while, January, he couldn't stand it no longer his self, and he say in a hoarse, loud whisper: f?Mas3ai Massa! have mercy on dis poor nigger.1" fill's eyes narrowed down to fine creases as his thick lips came together in sioacking noises, and the loose skin beneath his chin, and jaws seemed to shake with the impact of dread memories. "Den," he continued, after a oriei pause in which time there was no sound except the constant drop of a bead of water in a lard'bucket, ttde war came.H De Yanfcees come in and dey pulled de fruit off de trees and et it. Dey et de hams and cavm, but dey neber burned de houses. Seem to me lak dey jes1 stay aroun1 long enough to git plenty sonrp'n t'eat, kaze dey lef' in two or three days, an1 we neber seed 'em since. De massa had three boys to go to war, but dere wuzn't one to come hone. All the chillun he had wuz killed. Massa, he los1 all his money and de house soon begin droppin' away to nothin'. TJs niggers one by one lef1 de ole place and de las' time I seed de home plantation I wuz a standin' on a hill. I looked uack on it for de las1 time through a patch of scrub pines and it look1 so lonely. Dere warn't but one person in sight, de massa. He was a-settin' in a wicker chair in de yard lookin1 out ober a small field of cotton and cawn. Dere wuz fo' crosses in de graveyard in de side lawn where he wuz a-settin'. De fo'th one wuz his wife. I lost my ole woman too 37 years ago, and all dis time, I's been a carrin' on like ie massa-- all alone*" flash. Cox>y, 5/5/37/ L. H. KlahtMy¦':'¦•' - ¦:,-/, ^ ;; „ ifetsie B. O'lrien,¦ ::/>.:¦¦¦ •*-¦"»- ,-.«.«/''• tntontown. *' JL,\£*>£ ¦ fiemj&s A. Oden, ,. .Editor* , . , ,.;._.,.„ EX-SLAVE, "AWT TILPY" COLLINS. In the Negro section of Uniontown, locally known as <3§apbit Yard.9 (named by the Negroes themselves), lives "Aunt Tiidy" Collins, a typical "black mammy" of orthodox type. She is a talkative old soul, running over with slavery tales and greatly beloved by a wide range of acquain- tances among both races. Although eighty-four summers have passed over her snow-white head, Aunt Tiidyfs spirit is unconquered by time and her physical activity is truly remarkable for her age. She does her own housework and cares for her home without assistance. In front of her one- room cabin is a neat garden of vegetables and flowers combined, with morn- ing-glories trained carefully over the fence nearly all the way around. There is a saying in the South, that cotton will grow better for a Negro /' ': than for any other race, and IMs might well be extended to include morn- inp-glories in Aunt Tildy's case; since none in Uniontown are quite so fine in growth or brilliance of coloring. Like nearly all old Negroes, Aunt Tildy goes to sleep very readily. She was dozing in a rocker on her small porch, while the scent of wood saoke and the odor of boiling vegetables issued from the cabin. An iron pot, hanging from a crane in the fireplace, sending forth clouds of steam and an appetizing aroma. She clings to old fashioned equipment and dis- dains a stove for cooking. Her "biled11 vegetables or meats in the hang- in?: pot, with baked potatoes and "pone" bread from the oven make up a neal that leaves little to ,be desiredf as many visitors who have shared ner repasts well know. As the gate squeaked, Aunt Tiidy awoke with a start and a smile. "Come in, white folks, I was Jes1 a-settin* here waitin1 for my ?reens to bile, an' I musta drapped off to sleep. Set down in dat cheer Alabama - 2 - right dar, an* tek off your hat; you sho' is lookin' well, an' I'se proud to see you. Tas, ma'am, I sho' was borned in slavery times, an' I wish to Gawd I could git now what * useter hab den, 'caze dera was good times for de black folks. Dese free niggers don't know what 'tis to be. tuk gorod Veer oS^B^ "Co'se I means dat! I was borned on a big plantation near 'bout to Linden, an' my Ole Marster was name Harris, yassum, Dick Harris,aa? my Ole Mistis was Miss Mandy. Bofe dey boys fit in de wah, an' I 'members v/hen dey went off wid de sojers,,ole Mistis she cry an' hug dem boys an1 kiss 'em goodbye, an' dey was gone a long time. I was a leetle gal whenst \ de;/ went to de wah, an' I was mos' a grown 'oman when dey come home, an1 dey bofe had whiskers. Young Masse Richard he limpin* an1 look mighty ?ale, an' dey say he been wounded an' stay in prison on Mister Johnson's island, summuz up de ribber; but Marse Willis, he look all right, cepin' *\ whiskers. Oie Marster had a big house, an' dat same house standin dar right now. Us had plenty to eat an' plenty to wear, an1 dat's mo'n what m* folks got now. o^U^r^—*y "Ole Marster was good to all he niggers, an1 my pappy, bofe belonged to lira. Dey was a slave-yard in Uniontown, an1 ev'y time a spec'later •cun wid a lot of new niggers* Ole Marster he buy four or five niggers, "to * an1 dat's how he come^buy my pappy, atter de spec'later brung him an1 a whole passel of niggers from North C'lina. My mammy here j^a/ready 'long to Cle ^arster, her was borned his'n. "Sometime a no 'count nigger tek an' runned erway; but de ober- se^r, he put de houn's on he track, an' dey run him up a tree, an1 de ocerseer fotch him back nex' mawnin', all tuckered art, an' he glad to stcv home for a spell an' 'have hese'f. Ole Marster had a good oberseer, too. 'Cose he wan't no quality, lak Ole Marster an' Ole Mistis, but he Alabama - . - 3 - - was a good, kin' man an1 he didn't hab no trouble on de whole plantation. "Us alluz had a Chris'mus tree in de quarter, jes' lak de white folks an' dey was presents for ev'ybody - nobody wanft lef' out, big or little. Dere was.meetin house on de plantation an1 Ole Marster had a rule dat all de chilluns had to go to Sunday school soon as dey was big 'nuff, an1 dey had to go in clean white clo'se? too. Us chilluns hate to see Sunday come, 'caze Mammy an1 G-ranmammy dey wash us an' near 'bout Wo de skin off gittin' us clean for Sunday school, an1 dey comb our heads K?i& a jimcrow. ^ou ain't neber seed a jiracrow? Hit mos' lak a cyard jffhat you cyard wool wid. What a cyard look lak? HumphJ Missy, whar you been raise - ain't neber seed a cyard? Dat jimcrow sho' did hurt, but us hadder stan' hit, an' sometimes atter all dat, Mammy she wrap our ^inky hair wid tread an' twis' so tight us s eyes couldn't hardly shet. 8My Granmammy, her de head cook 'oman a/fc de big house, an1 us had to mine her lak us did &ammy. I hope G-ranmammy in de kitchen, atter I rot big .LftwfT^an' she sho' did keep me humpin'» Chilluns had to mine ce.- olders in dem/T days^ dey wan't lak dey is now, don't mine nobody, not e^oen dey ?a. "When de surrender come, Ole ^arster he tole all de niggers dey is free now, an' some was glad an' some was sorry an' welst dey might ce sorry, iffen dey knowed what a hard time dey goner had knockin' 'roun1 ie "-orl1 by deyselfj no Ole ^arster an' no Ole Mist is ter look atter iem tn' feed fem when dey sick an' when dey well. Look lak ter me, when de '^render parted de white folks an1 de black ffolks, it hurt fem bofe. J?y oughter be tergedder, jes' lak de ^ood Lord tended dey be." Aunt Tildy sighed deeply and, gazing afar off,"said: "Iffen Ole I'-e.rster was livin' now, I'd be all right an1 not hafter worry 'bout nuffin? In spite of her eighty-four years, Aunt Tildy makes her living as a ;a----vlfe and serves as a "doctor 'man" in cases of minor ailments; but Alabama' - 4 - 86 ner practice is so closely interwoven with "conju'in'H that it is diffi- cult to say which is the more important to her. For example1 she pre- scribes wearing matches in the hair or a little salt on the mole of the 'ead for headache. Her sovereign remedy for rheumatism is Mlnint de j'ints a* wid a little kerosene oil an' put some mullen leaves on it.M "A good dost of turpentine is good for mos1 anything de matter wid you." A coin with a hole in it, usually a dime, tied around the ankle will keep you from getting "pizen." Furthermore, this same treatment warns against the ill effects of getting "cdnju'ed? "Iffen you gits conju'ed, de dime turn black, an1 you kin go to de conju' doctor an* git de conju* took off,* "Is you got to go, Missy? Come back agiin. Ifsfallus~ proud to see you," Aunt Tildy called after me from the edge of the porcht. /*•' I flash. Copy, 16/4/37. -. K. Alabama Preston Klein Opelika, Ala. f*H 87. SEP 111937 She Just Can Remember Her Husband's Name (PHOTO) Sara Colquitt, who used to till the fields in slavery days, now has a handmaiden of her own. Sara does not know the date of her birth in Richmond, Virginia, but she says it was more than a century ago. (1937). The "girl," whom her daughter has employed to take care of the nearly blind and helpless centenarian, is well past eighty herself, yet she keeps her charge neat and clean and the cabin in which they live tidy. Sara's daughter works in the fields nearby at Opelika, Ala. to keep the family going. "Mr. Bill Slaughter and Miss Mary Slaughter was our marster and mistess and dey had two chilluns, Mars'a Robert and Mars a 3rat,w Sara said. "I had four brothers and sisters, Tate, Sam, Jennie, and Tenner, Us lived in log cabins wid dirt floors and dey was built in two long rows. Us beds was nailed to de wall at one end and us used corn shucks and pine straw for mattresses. "Miss Mary was good to us, but us had to work hard and late. I worked in de fields every day from 'fore daylight to almost plumb dark. I usta take my littlest baby wid me. I had two chilluns, and I'd tie hit up to a tree limb to keep off de ants and bugs whilst I hoed and worked de furrow. All us niggers was fed from de big kitchen and wasn't hongry, but sometimes us would steal more food dan was give us anyhow. "I was one of de spinners, too, and had to do six cuts to 3e reel at de time and do hit at night plenty times. Us clothes was homespun orsanburgs, what us would dye, sometimes solid and Alabama - 2 - 88 sometimes checked. 111 Sides working de fields and spinning, sometimes I'd hope wid de cooking up at de Big House when de real cook was sick or us had a passel of company. Us cooked on a great, big fireplace what had arms hanging out over de coals to hang pots on to bile. Den us had three-legged skillets what set right over de coals for frying and sech like. Us cooked sho' *nuff bread in dem days, ash cakes, de best thing you ever et. Dey ain't nothing like dat dese days. "I was sold oncet before I left Virginia. Den I was brung down to Alabama and sold from de block for $1,000 to Mr. Sam Rainey, at Camp Hill, Ala. I still worked in de fields, but I would cook for de white folks and hope around de Big House on special 'casions. Our overseer was Mr. Green Ross, and he was a bad one, too. Mean, my goodness.' He'd whup you in a minute. He'd put you in de buck, tie your feet and den set out to whup you right. "He would get us slaves up 'fore day blowing on his big horn and us would work 'twell plumb dark. All de little niggers'd get up, too, and go up to de Big House to be fed from wooden bowls. Den dey'd be called ag'in 'fore us come from de fields and put to bed by dark. I useta stop by de spring house to get de milk, it was good cold too, and tote it up to de Big House for dinner. "I had two chilluns. Dey was named Lou and Eli, and dey was took care of like de rest. Us useta have some good times. Us could have all de fun us wanted on Sa'dday nights, and us sho' had it, cutting monkeyshines and dancing all night long sometimes. Some would pat and sing, 'Keys not arunning, Keys not arunning," Alabama - 3 - and us sho* did more'n dance, I'm telling you. Sometimes our Mistess would come down early to watch us dance. "Next to our dances, de most fun was corn-shucking. Marsa would have de corn hauled up to de cribs and piled as a house. Den he would invite de hands 'round to come and hope shuck it. Us had two leaders or generals and choose up two sides. Den us see which side would win first and holler and sing. I disremem- bers the hollers jest now. My mind is sorter missing. Marsa would pass de jug 'round, too. Den dey sho' could work and dat pile'd just vanish. "Us used de white folks' church in de morning. I j'ined de church den, 'cause I always tried to live right and wid de Lord. "When de Yankees come through Dadeville, Ala., us heard 'bout hit and Marsa hid his money and lots of his fine things in de colored folks's houses. Dey never found 'em neither. "Lemme see who I married? I mighty nigh forgot who it was I did marry. Now, I knows. Hit was Prince Hodnett. "No'm, I don't want no more slavery. I hope dey don't have no more such, 'cause hit was terrible. "Yes'm, I'd be proud to have my pitcher took." So pridefully Sara's chair was dragged out on the porch by her maid, and the "pitcher was took." R.L.D. 9-9-37 89 Alabama Margaret Fowler, Pruithurst, Alabama THEY CALLED US MCCULLOUGH'S FREE NiaaERS Handy McCullough Cosby puffed reflectively at her mellowed cornfeob pipe and began her storyi ( njjy. Massa, Bryant McCullough, was a Chambers county man. He had so many slaves * can't tell you de numbah. He didn't know hisself how many he had. I is now ninety-five years old an' what I remembers mos' is de way de chillun roll aroun' in de big nurses room." Handy lives at 1508- ?ine Street, Anniston, Alabama. She was cutting collards for dinner and left her dishpan and butcher knife to receive her caller. "Mist" McCullough, he raised niggahs to sell-an1 the little black chillen play aroun' until 'bout sundown, dey is give dey supper. A long trough out in a cool place in the bak yard is filled wif good, cold buttermilk an1 cornbread crumbed in, an* dey each is give a spoon, an' dey eats dey fill. Den dey is ready fo' bed. Some of dem jes' fall ovah on de groun', asleep, and is picked up, and put on dey pallet in de big chillens rodm. Dey was old woman called de nurse, look after 'em. Dey iit ~ood care fo' de -master expects dey will bring good money. "01• Miss, she don't lak to see dem sold, an' she cry ever' time, sre fo tender-hearted. But Mist' McCullough is jes' lak mens is today. •"•e jes' laugh an' go on. "But he was good to his black folks. Folks called us 'McCullough's *rer-' niggers.' Wasn't much whippin' went on 'roun' our plantation, but sr. so.:e places close to us, they whipped until blood run down. Some "lace? they even mixed salt an1 pepper in water an' bathed 'em with it. ••"^ -Tilt water*d heal, but when the pepper got in there, it burned lak ^r'R, an' they'd as well get on to work quick, cause they can't be still riohv-- Alabama - 2 - 91 "One woman on a plantation not so far from us, was expectin', an1 they tied her up under a hack-a-berry tree, an' whipped her until she died, ^os' any time at night efyQu go 'roun' that tree, you could hear that baby cry. I 'spect you could hear it yet. "Everybody said that was murder, an' that something ought to be done about it, but nothin' ever was. " "Mist' McCullough always give his folks plenty of sumpin' feat an1 then he say, 'I's lookin' for plenty uv work.' 'Niggahs fat an' greasy can't do nothin* but work. "My mother was a loomer. She didn't do nothin' but weave. We all had reg'lar stints of spinnin' to do,, when we come from the fiel'. We set down an' eat a good supper, an' ever'night until ten o'clock we spin cuts of cotton, an' reel the thread, an' nex' day, the rolls is / carded an' packed in a basket to be wove. ' "Spinnin* wheels was in every cabin. Dere was so many of us to be tul: care of, it took lots of spinnin'.* ' (Washington Copy, 16/20/37. L. H. 92 Huby Pickens Tartt, Livingston,Alabama Luther Clark, Editor. EX-SLAVE BMLA CROCKETT ^ ( 80 YEARS OLD ) #v On the old east road from Livingston to Epes, about six miles north- east of Livingston, is the "double house" built of widely assorted mate- rials, where Emma Crockett lives. The older part of the house is the "settin' room" where the stick-and-clay chimney of its earlier days has been replaced by a new brick chimney, A roof of corrugated sheet metal tops the warped, roughly hewn logs which form the walls. The "new room" is oui.lt in the later shanty style - pine boards, unolaned, and nailed u right to a frame of 2X4's, the cracks of the fli.t joints "stripped" with narrow siding. A roof of "bought" shingles covers this room. Con- necting the two rooms is an open hall roofed with heavy boards "rived" from pine blocks. Despite its conglomerate architecture this is a batter "colored folks'" house than many in the Black Belt. These"double nouses" often have no roof for the hall and some also lack a floor, the nail being- made entirely of earth, sky and imagination. Enuna settled herself on the top step at the front of the hall to talk to me, after first ironing' a tiny wrinkle out of her "string apron" '¦'iih her hand. " Liss, I'm 'bout sebenty-nine or eighty year old," she told me, "in-- I belonged to Llarse Bill Hawkins and Hiss Betty. I lived on deir .imitation right over yander. lly mammy v/as called Cassie Hawkins and ••¦;' 3 ,py v/as Alfred Jolly. I was Emma Jolly 'fore I married Old Henry -ookett. Us had five chillun and dey's two of 'em livin' in Bummin1- n?£) ?annie and Liary. Alabama) 2-Ex-Slave,Emma Crockett. 93 "Sometimes I kain't git my min' together so as I kin tell nothin'. I fell out t'other day and had a misery in my head ever since. I wish I could read, but I wa'n't never I'arnt nothin' 'ceptin' atter Surrender I iss Sallie Cotes she showed us how to read printin*; but I kain't read no writin. I kain't tell you so much 'bout de wah' ca'se my recollec- tion ain't no 'count dese days. All I knowed, 'twas bad times and folks got v/hupped, but I kain't say who was to blame; some was good and some was bad. I seed de patterollers, and atter Surrender de Ku Kluxes dey come den, but didn't never bother me. See, I wan't so old and I minded ev'ybody, and didn't vex 'em none. Us didn't go to church none, but I goes now to de New Prophet Church and my favorite song is: Set down, set down, set down, Set down, set down, Set down, chile,set down. Soul so happy till I kain't set down. Move de member, move Dan-u-el, Love de member,move Dan-u-el. Dan-u-el, member, don' move so slow. Diji-u-el, member, don' move so slow. Got on my rockin' shoes, Dan-u-el. Got on my rockin' shoes, Dan-u-el. Shoes gwine to rock me home, Shoes gwine to rock me home,Dan-u-el, Shoes gwine to rock me home,Dan-u-el, Shoes gwine to rock me home,Dan«B-el, Dan-u-el. Shoes gwine to rock by faith, Shoes gwine to rock by faith,Dan-u-el, Shoes gwine to rock by faith,Dan-u-el. Love de member, move Dan-u-el. Love de member, move Dan-u-el. Got on my starry crown, Dan-u-el. Got on my starry crown, Dan-u-el. '! Oat's all I kin tell you today,honey. Come back when dis -isery leave my head and I gwine to think up some tales and old songs. ifflina Crockett. (3) g/£ " But i didn't never fool v/id no hoodoo and no animal stories neither I didn't have no time for no sich foolishness. And I ain't scared of nothin' neither. " I lives here wid my grandchile now on Mr. Bob Davis1 place. Us gits enough to eat, I reckon, but r£s tight, I tell you dat".r Washington Copy. July 9,1937. Alabama. Annie D, Dean Jt<'°°/ QITTIH' MY PENSION Prom all accounts, Aunt Cheney Gross must be quite ninety , years old, HIn jewin' de war,w she says, "I had done long pass my thirteenth birthday." Today Aunt Cheney is a true reflection of slavery days and the Southern mammy. Away from highways and automobiles, she lives several miles from Evergreen on a small farm in the piney woods with her "baby boy,11 Talk with Aunt Cheney reveals that Evergreen's city marshall, Harry L. Riley, "put out to hope" this old family servant who had "tended" to his father, George Riley; his mother, "Miss Narciss," and "Miss Lizzible," his sister. She also helped bring his own "chillun" into the world. Aunt Cheney had promised Mr. Riley that she would come in town on a certain Saturday morning in May, 193?, and would bring a let- ter from her young "mistis" for me to read. It tpas past noon on that particular Saturday when she came up the back^steps, a little out of breath, but smiling, "Lawd, honey," she said, "here 'tis pas' dinner time an' I'se jes' makin1 my arrivement here. No'm, I don't wants no dinner, thank you jes1 de same, Whut makes me so late: here now, I stopped by Miss Ella Morthcutt's. She's my folks too, you know, an' she done made me eat all I kin holei Nofm, honey, I can't eat no cabbage. Me an' cabbage never is set horses together much, but I will thank you for the ice tea." Settling herself down in a low chair, she sighed and began taking off her shoes, "Honey, you don't mind ef I resses my feets fioes you? My white folks is sp'ilin' me here today. I'll be Alabama - 2 - lookin' for it tomorrow, too, an' I won't be gittin1 it." Her black eyes twinkled in her shiny, old, wrinkled face as she talked on. "I'tole Mr. Harry I'se comin'. An1 here I isj How'd I come? I come on Mack and Charlie, dat's how.1 Yes, ma'amj Dese two boys here, dey brung me." Pushing her feet out for inspec- tion, she leaned forward, smiling and pleased. "Dese here foots, dey1s Mack an1 Charlie. Dey's my whole pennunce for gittin' about. Don't you worry none. Mr. Harry he'll git rae back home 'gainst dark come on. "Lawd, honey, I don't want to know no better folks'n Mr. Harry an' Miss Erama$ I follow dem good folks clean up to Muscle ShowJ'/1'1, Yessum, I sho' did. At fust, I tole'm I couldn't go nohow. But dey pull down on me so hard, look lack I couldn't he'p myself. "I stayed on up dere at Muscle Show twell I got so homesick to see my baby boy I couldn't stan1 it no mo'. Now, cose, my Viby boy he wuz den de father of his own, a boy an1 a girl, but to me dat boy is still jes' my baby, an' I had to come on home." Aunt Cheney's little, old body shook with laughter as she leaned back and said: "Yes, ma'am! I ain't been home no time 'tall neither, twell here come Mr. Harry back to Evergreen wid his own self. Yes, Lawdj I kin see'm now, comin' up de big hard- v.ood road, his haid raired back, asmokin' a sugarette lack he's •"' ailiineryi Lawd, Lawdj Me nor Mr. Harry neither one ain't never gona be contentious nowheres but right here. An' dat's de G-awd's trufej "Iffen Mr. Harry hadn't come on back here, I never woulda feed no pension. Dat's de G-awd's trufe, too. Nobody here didn't -now my eggzack age, cause dis wasn't my originally home. All dem Alabama - 3 - 97 whut did know close onto my age done died out an1 I knows it* So when Mr. Harry put out to hope me, I says in my heart ' Thank G-awdJ' MI tole Mr. Harry dat iffen anybody in de world knowed my age, it was ray young mistis, an1 I didn't know eggzackly where she at, but her papa was Captain Purifire (Purifoy). Back yonder he was de madlstra of our town, an1 he had all of dem lawin1 books. I figgered dat my birthright would be down in one of dem books. I knowed in reason dat my mistis still got dem books wid her, 'cause dey ain't been no burnin's dat I done heard about. I knowed, too, dat Mr. Harry was gona fine out where she at. fl 'members Captain Purifire jes' lack a book. I does dati Now, cose, when he come on in home from de war he didn't 'zackly favor hisse'f den, 'cause when I seed him comln' roun1 de house he look so ragged an* ornery I tuck hira for de ole Bad Man hisse'f. I tuck out behind de smoke house, an' when I got a good look at him th'ew a crack it look lack I could recognize his favor, but I couldn't call his name to save my life. Lawd, honey] He's a sight! All growed over an1 bushyi You couldn't tell iffen he's man or beast. I kep* on alookin* whilst he's corain* roun' de corner, an' den I heard him say 'Cheney, dat you?' I'se so happy, I Jes' melt down." Aunt Cheney was really living over her past. "You see, it's lack dis", she said: "My fore parents, dey was bought. My Mistis an' my daddy's mistis, too, was Miss Mary Fields, an' my daddy was Henry Fields. Den de Carters bought my daddy from Miss Mary Flelfe. 'Veil, dey mix up an' down lack dat, twell now my young mistis, what use to be little Frances Purifire, she's married to Mr. Cunningham. "I was brung up right in de house wid my white folks. Yessum, I slep' on de little trundler bed what pushed up under de big bed, In durinst de day. I watched over dem chillun day an' night. I Alabama - 4 - I washed 'em an1 fed * em an' played wld 'em. One of de babies had to take goat's milk. When she cry, my mlstis say, 'Cheney, go on an' git dat goat.' Yes Lawd! An' dat goat sho1 did talk sweet to dat babyi Jes' lack it was her own. She look at it an' wag her tail so fas' an1 say: "Ma-a-a-a-ai" Den she lay down on de flo1 whilst'us holes her feets an' let de baby suck de milk. All de time dat goat bees talkin', fMa-a-a-a-a,' twell dat baby got satchi- fied. "When us chillun got tuck wid any kind of sickness or zeezes, us tuck azzifizzity an' garllt. You know, garlit what smell lack onions. Den we wore some roun' us necks. Dat kep1 off flu-anz. "Dese days it look lack somepin t'eat don't tas'e lack dat we cooked back yonder. De coffee us used had to be fresh groun' ever1 day. An' when It commence to bile, I put dese here knees down on de flo' befo' de fire an' stir dat coffee for de longes'. Den my gran'ma she hung dat pot up on dem pot hooks over de fire an' washed de meat an' drap it in. ^lme she done pick an' overlook de greens an' den wrlnched 'em in spring water, de meat was billn'. Den she take a great big mess of dem fresh turnip greens an' squash 'em down in dat pot. Dey Jes' melt down an' go to seasonin1* "Nex' thing I knowed, here come my mistis, an1 she say: 'Now Cheney, I wants some pone bread for dinner.1 Dem hick'ry coals in dat fire place was all time ready an' hot. They wouldn't be no finger prints lef on dat pone when Cheney got th'ew pattln' it out neither. Better notj Look lack dera chillun jes' couldn't git 'nuff of dat hard corn bread. "Plenty of fancy cookln' went on 'roun1 dat fire place, but somehow de pot licker an' pone bread longside wid de fresh butter- milk stirs my mem'ry worse'n anything. Alabama " - 5 - "All dis good eatin' I'se speakln1 'bout tuck place befo' de Yankees raided us. It was den, too, dat my mlstis tuck me down / to de spring back of de house. Down dere it was a holler tree stump, taller'n you is. She tell me to clam' up to de top of dat holler tree, den she nan1 me a big heavy bundle, all wropped up an* tied tight. Hit sho' was heavyj Den she say: 'Drap it in, Cheney,• I didn't know den whut she's up to, but dat was de silver an' Jew'lry she was hldln1, "Yes honey, I 'members dat Yankee raid lack it was jes1 yistiddy, Ifse settin' dere in de loom room, an1 Mr, Thad Watts' 111' gal, Louise, she's standin' at the winder. She say: 'O-o-oht NannieJ Jes1 look down yonderj' 'Baby, what is dat?' I says, 'Dem's de Yankees comin'J' 'Gawd hep usj' I says, an' befo1 I kin Xetch ray bref, de place is kivvered. You couldn't stir 'em up wld a stick, Feets sounded lack mutterin' thunder, Dembennits stick ; up lack dey Jes1 settin' on de mouf of dey guns, Dey swords hangin' ', on dey sides singin1 a chune whilst dey walk, A chicken better not pass by, Iffen he do, off come his headi "When dey pass on by me, dey put' nigh shuck me outa my skin, ''There's de men's?' dey say an' shake me up, 'Where's de arms?' Dey shake me twell my eye balls loosen up. 'Where's de silver?1 LawdJ Was my teefs drappin' out? Dey didn't give me time to ketch ny bref. All de time, Miss Mary jes' look 'em in de eye an' say nothin'J "Dey tuck dem enfield rifles, half as long as dat door, an1 1 gus1 in de smoke house winder. Dey Jack me up off'n my feet an1 I firag me up de ladder an1 say: 'Q-it dat meat out.' I kep' on j I th'owin' out Miss Mary's hams an' sawsidges, twell dey holler 'stop', i I I come backin* down dat ladder lack a squirrel, an' I ain't stop Alabama - 6 - 100 backln1 twell I retch Miss Mary. "Yes, LawdJ Dem Yankees loaded up a waggin full of meat an1 tuck de whole barrel of 'lassesJ Takin1 dat 'lasses kilt us chilliinj Our raainest 'musement was raakin' 'lasses candy. Den us cake walk 'roun' it. Now dat was all gone. Look lack dem sogers had to sharpen dey swords on ever1thing in sight. De big crepe mullen bush by de parlor winder was bloomin' so pink an' pretty, an' dey jes' stood dere an' whack off dem blooms lack folkses heads drapoin' on de ecroun'. "I seed de sarguwt when he run his bennit clean th'ew Miss -A .Mary's bestest feather bed an1 rip it slam openi Wid dat, a win1 blowed up an1 tuck dem feathers ever1 which away for Sunday. You couldn't see where you's at. De sarg***H5, he jes1 thfowed his head back an1 laugh fit to kill hisse'f. Den £ust thing next, he done suck a feather down his win'pipe] Lawd, honey, dat white man she1 struggled. Dem sogers th'owed water in his face. Dey shuck'm an1 v>eat!m an' rollfm over, an1 all de time he's gettin' limberer an1 bluerer. Den dey Jack him up by his feets an1 stan'm on his haid. Den dey purap him up an1 down. Den dey shuckfm tv/ell he spit. Den l:e come to. "Dey didn't cut no mo' mattmisses. An' dey didn't cut no thin1 :uch up in de parlor, 'cause dat's where de lieutenant an' de sargtnrtr ?lenf# But when dey lef1 de nex' day, de whole place was strewed id mutilation. r,I 'members well back dere in jewin' de war how ever' oncet a onth that come 'roun' a big box, longer'n I is an' wider too, was ^"..:ck to our soger boys on de battle fiel'. You never seed de lack r? sawsldges dat went in dat box.' Wid cake an' chicken an' pies, Alabama . - 7 - an1 Lawdl de butter all rolled up in corn shucks to keep it fresh. Ever1body from ever'where come to fix dat box an1 he'p pile in de stuff. Den you hear 'em say: 'Poor sogersj Put it in herei' Den ever1thing look sorta misty, an' dey haids droop over«?lack. Den you see a mother's bres1 heave wid her silent prayer. "Directly atter de surrender, de Ku Kluxes sho' was bad atter de Yankees. Dey do all sorts of things to aggivate 'em. Dey's continual' tyin' grape vines crost de road, to git 'em tangled up an' make 'em trip up an' break dey own necks. Dat was bad too, 'cause dem poor Yankees never s'plcioned no better'n dat dem vines jes' blowed down or somepin. "Long about den, too, seem lack ha'nts an1 spairits was ridin1 ever'thing! Dey raided mostly 'roun1 de grabeyard. Lawd, honey, I ain't hankerin* atter passin' by no grabeyards. Cose, I knows I got to go in dere some day, but dey do make me feel lonesome an' '•cinder jubus. "I "members one night, way back dere, when I!se walkin' down de big road wid Bud, an' he say: 'LookJ Didn't you see me give dat road? Dat ha'nt done push me clean outa my place.1 Now let me tell you somepin. If fen you ain't never been dat clost to a ha'nt, you don't know nothin'i I 'lowed he gwine follow me home. When I got dere I shuck mustard seeds down on my flo'. When you sprinkles •em lack dat he can't git outa dat room twell he done count ever1 las' one of dem seed. Well sir, de nex' mawnln' all us could see was somepin lack a lump of jelly layin' dere on de flo* 'mongst dem seeds. Look lack he done counted hisse'f to a pulp. "After dat night, I puts a big sifter down at my do1. You 'now ha'nts has to count ever' hole in dat sifter befo1 dey can come Alabama - 8 - 10&- th'ough. Some folks puts de Bible down dere, too. Den de poor spairit has to read ever' word of dat book befo' he crosses over. "I reckon 'bout de terriblest thing ever happen to me was dat big lookin' glass. De lookin' glass was all laid out in de top of my trunk, waitin' for my weddin' day. One night I'se standin' by de trunk wid hit wide open. I seed somepin black befo' my eyes an' den a screech owl lit in my winder an' screech right in my face. I'se so scared I sot right down in de middle of dat lookin' glass. Hit bus1 in a million piecesl Mamma th'owed up her han's an' holler- 'Git up from dere, gal. You gona have seven years of bad luck. Shoo dat hootln1 owl away befo' you dies in your tracks!' Den I swoons off. I feels dem haunts glttin' ready to ride me clean down ~* in my grabe. 'Bout den somepin kep' say in' to me, over an' over: •Th'ow dem pieces of lookin' glass in runn^n' water,' Den hit say: 1 'Burn your mammy's ole shoe an' de screech owl leave.' Atter I ' does dat my min' was at res'. j "Soon as my daddy hear 'em firin' off for de Surrender, he put j out for de plantation where he fust belong. He lef me wid my mis- tie at Pine Plat, but 'twan't long twell he come back to git me an' carry me home wid him. I hate$to leave my mlstis, an' she didn't want to part from me. She say: 'Stay here wid me, an' I'll ? a give you a school larnln'.' She say to Captain Puriflre: 'You go A buy my li'l nigger a book. Git one of dem Blue Back Websters,1 she say, 'so I kin eddicate her to spell.1 Den my daddy say: 'Her "p.iama tole me not to come home widout her an' she has to go wid me.' ! "I never will fergit ridin1 behin' my daddy on dat mule way in de night. Us lef in slch a hurry I didn't git none of my cloze hardly, an' I ain't seed my mistis from dat day to disJH k.L.D. 5-29-37 Alabama Gertha Couric, -i nQ "' f '¦ H John Morgan Smith. ±{h* §-¦ ^ MATILDA WAS WED t«y--J^i> ¦¦ / , r^,fJ Vf t-f IN DE WHITE FOLKS PARLOR. ^ ^----------(Photo)-------- Near Eufaula, Alabama on a bluff stands a little three room cabin neatly furnished with plain, well worn, but nicely kept furniture. Surrounding the house are small beds of pretty flowers, and rows of fresh vegetables. Here resides in peace and tranquility Aunt Matilda Pugh Daniel, an old Negro slave, aged 96 years. Aunt Matilda was a full gi»ow?t buxom gal when the War between the States was raging. She belonged to United States Sens/tor, James L. Pugh, and was born on his plantation, near Eufaula. Even though time has dimmed her sight, and slightly di- minished her hearing powers, she is still active of mind and accurate in her memories. We will let her speak for herselfS "Yassuh, white folks, £ remembers lots of things dat happen in de slabery times. I works aroun1 de house for mistis, who wuz de daughter of G-en'l John Linguard Hunter befo' she ma1led de massa. 'When I wuz a little pig-tailed nigger, I usta play 'roun1 wid Massa1 s chilluns. We play injuns in de woods, an1 bull1 dams down on de creek an1 swing in de yard an1 sometime we sho do devilish things. We hid red pepper in ole Black Bob's chewin1 bacca, an1 you ought to seed de faces he made. It lakes me laugh till yit. Den we tuken a skunk dat us little white an* black debils kotched an* turn him loose in de slave quarters. You oufi-ht ter seed dem niggers come a flyin1 outer dere. Dey come out like a swarm of wet antses. "Atter I grew up I mailed Joe Daniel, a house nigger, an* ^en'l Writer, de Mistis's pappy 'formed de ceremony. We wuz ma'led in de Parlor, an1 I wo1 a party dress of Miss Sara's. It sho' wuz purty; made out en white tarleton wid a pink bow in de front. I had a pink ribbon Alabama -2- 104 'roun' my haid too, an1 Joe, he look proud of me. Atter de weddin' all de niggers on de plantation gathered about an1 we had a soiree in de back yard. Me an' Joe moved to de quarter den, but I sill worked in de house. Mistis warn't goin' ter let nobody wash dem julep glasses but me, an' warn't nobody a goin1 ter polish dat silber but dis here nigger, Nawsuh. .... . "Durin1 de war us warn't bothered much J^lllftiui, but atter de surren- der, some po1 white trash tried to make us take some Ian'. Some of •em come to de slave quarters, an* talk to us, Dey say 'Niggers, you is jus' as good as de white fo'ks. You is 'titled to vote in de 'lections an' to have money same as dey,' but most of us didn't pay no 'tention to 'em. "Den Massa James an* Mistis moved to Washington, an' Miss Sara "/anted me to go wid her to be her house maid. She said she'd pay me money fo' it, but I couldn't leave my ole man, Joe, kaze he had a case of consumption. Joe died a year later an' lef' me wid fo' little c ulluns. Us stayed 'roun' on de plantation an' de new massa paid us iood money fo1 workin', but soon de house kotched fire an1 burn to de 2roun', an' I have to move to Eufaula. I bought dis little house wid de money I saved. I has kinfo'lks in Detroit dat sen's me a little noney, an' some good peoples in Eufaula helps me out some so I is in party good financial shape. I ain't neber 'sociated wid no trashy niggers an' I ain't neber 'ten' to. I is goin' to be a proud an' good nU;:;er to de las'. '"ash. Copy, 5/13/37. T TT Alabama JIM-!1? *- ^>-a—«l 0 ^ Preston Klein, Lee County, Jack Kytle, Editor. \y $v PLANTATION PUNISHUIENT. AJb Carrie Davis said "Honey, dere was a lot of cruel things done in slavery times•" She was washing when I arrived at her shanty near Smith1s Station, Alabama• She asked, as so many of the old Negroes do, "Has you come to help me?" I said: "No, Carrie; I want you to tell me about slavery." She shook her gray head, recalled: "Dem was good an1 bad times, i-istus; good an1 bad. I had a purty good marster; but de marster on de pVntation dat j'ined our!n was mighty mean. He was a bad man, no ratter if de slaves behaved or not* ("Honey, I 'members dat he had regular days to whup all de slaves via strops. De strops had holes in !em so dat dey raised big blisters. \ Der dey took a hand saw, cut de blisters and/washed 'em in salt water. Our Clf &istus has put salve on aheap of backs so dey could git deir shirts off. De shirtsfd stick, you see. De slaves would come to our ho;:ee for, water an1 ^istus would see 'em. / Asked about her life as a slave, she said: "I w$s borned in •vr-ris County, Georgia, an1 was 'bout ten or twelve when freedom come. '.y ::.ammy an1 pappy was ^artha an1 Nathan Perry and had seben chillun. -e-ldes me, dere was Amy, Ida, Knoxie, Jim, Abraham, an1 Franklin. "Us lived in de Perry quarters. De cabins was made of split -\/, put up edgeways and daubed wid mud inside an1 out. Dey was fbout :'""hired yards from de big house, whar Marster Billy an1 Mi stus Nancy 'h: •; lived. Deir chillun was Clara *%ria, Helinda, Sara, Alec, Hm, an1 :;i"T.. Dey was real good to us, too. Us et at de big house. Course - rood was cooked on de fireplace, but us had meat and greens bts€ r/ ;ch biscuits. Us had collards an1 cabbage, too. "Sometimes us would have wild game, fcafse de men hunted lots Alabama - 2 ~ pn* Notched rabbits, fpossums and coons* Dey also kotched a lot of fish* "No'm, our beds warn't so good. Dey was homemade and de sides ras scantlings wid legs nailed on. Den slats was nailed on top of it to r\)t our shuck-and-straw mattresses on. "Ivly grand-parents was from Virginny. When * was a slave I was clean ; ed as a house-girl and to help keep de yards/and bring in water, us i-'ore mostly slips, wove in homemade looms; an1 dey was orsanburg an1 homespun. We wore 'em Sunday and Monday de same. Us shoes was made at s tanyard and dey was brogans as hard as rocks. MI fmembers dat some of our white neighbors was poor and didn't ^ have no slaves. Dey would help us work. De overseer couldn't whip dem, t he would made dem work hard and late. I 'members, too, dat de over- ; seer v/aked us up wid a trumpet. "Dey useta tell us dat if us didn't wor¥ dey was going to sell us /to help feed de rest; and bless yo' soul, us niggers'd go to work, too. jest -arster wasn't mean, M&. would/lock de slaves in de crib fer punishment. "hen slaves was sold, I seed many a nigger put on de block for five and usix hundred dollars. "Us couldn't leave de plantation widout a pass; and you better not let 'em kotch you wid a book. Us walked to de white church an' set in ^ "¦.-¦?>. Mr. Vawey Snell preach and baptize, and dey had foot-washin's. ¦v'ir.ies ds niggers'd git so happy dey would shout. Den dey would keep ''in* in de fields next day and git a whipping. "If a nigger got out widout a pass, dey sot de hounds on you; and '"¦"^rollers'd tear you up, too, if you stayed out too late. "Us had sech good times on Sattidy nights; frolic, dance an' corn- o.in's. ILoet of 'ern would be drinkin' and sing and holler•* Alabama' - 3 - - ^2* * Sheep's in de cotton patch; Act fim out Monday. Had it been a white man; Got 'im out Sunday.1 "Kid Kimbrough was ou$ leader, and he could sing 'Dixie,' too. "Christmas mornin' us'd have a better breakfast and dey would £lve us rations at de big house. When any of de slaves got married dey rent up to de white folks' house an' Jumped over de broom. Dat was ;'':ie ceremony at de weddin'. VAnd if marster wanted to mix his stock ^/ of slaves wid a strong stock on 'nother plantation, dey would do de /.ens an' women jest lak horses. I 'members dat when two niggers married, Ijiey got a big supper.T "All us chilluns had a big time* played 'Pretty Pauline,' 'Turn, Charlie,1 an' sech-lak. / "No'm I never did see nor b'lieve in ghosts. *\ "When us got sick kistus'd give horse-mint, life-everlasting, j^oldenrod, an1 holly teas, yessum. And us wore asafoetida and pop- I Uli seed. "When de Yankees come, dey handcuffed our folks and took 'em off. Ureter had his meat, corn, fodder, and sech hauled in de swamp near -e Plantation. Dem Yankees went as straight to it as if dey had seed us y\t it dere. Dey burned it all up and took some niggers from de -;": t?r farm. "When freedom come, I 'members dat marster told us dat us was free, "" dat we could stay on if we lacked. Most of us stayed on wid him -or r spell. Now and den de Ku Klux Klan'd come around and beat on a "I married Charlie Gibson and had two chlllun, twelve grand- •—Huns and nine great-grandchilluns. 'Alabama - 4 - 108 "Honey, Ifs heard Abraham Lincoln's name, but don't know nothin1 .'bout him. I got tired livin1 'mong wicked peoples; and I wanted to be jV'-ved. Dat's why I j f ined de church and still tries to de right." ?hington Copy, "7U - • \h%VlAyCA,ittl ap^**S^»r ?.-r>-y Alabama Francois Ludgere Diard 10239 John Morgan Smith \$5 AUNT CLARA DAVIS IS HOMESICK FOR OLD SCENES $>* nI was bawn in de year 1845, white folks,11 said Aunt Clara, Mon de Mosley plantation in Bellvy jus1 nawth of Monroeville. Us had a mighty pretty place back dar. Massa Mosely had near !bout five hundred acres an1 mos1 near to one hundred slaves* MWas Marse RIoseley good to us? Lor1, honey, how you talk, Co'se he wasi He was de bes1 white man in de Ian1. Us had eve'y thing dat we could hope to eat: turkey, chicken, beef, lamb, poke, vegetables, fruits, aigs, butter, milk*•••we jus1 had evefr thing, white folks, eve*ything. Dem was de good ole days* How I longs to be back dar wid my ole folks an1 a playin1 wid de chilluns down by de creek, ¦Taln*t nothin1 lak it today, nawsuh. V.hen I tell you 'bout it you gwine to wisty you was dar too, "White folks, you can have yo/Aautomobiles an1 paved streets en1 electric lights. I don't want f em. You can have de busses pn* street cars an1 hot pavements an1 high buildin1'caze I ain!t :'ot no use for 'em no way. But I!ll tell you what I does want. I sprits my ole cotton bed an1 de moonlight nights a lahlnin1 through ce willow trees an1 de cool grass ssffigiakii my feets as I runned ?-rounf ketchin1 lightnin1 bugs. I wants to hear de sound of de rounds in de woods atter de !possum, an1 de smell of fresh mowed "-y. I wants to feel de sway of de ole wagon a-goin1 down de red^ cv.sty road an1 listen to de wheels groanin' as dey rolls along. I " rnts to sink my teeth into some of dat good ol^ash cake, an1 : .rck de good olersorghum of fen my mouth. White folks I wants to ?ee de boats a passin1 up an1 down de Alabamy ribber an1 hear de ?lrve« a singin1 at dere work. I wants to see de dawn break over Alabama - 2 - 110 1-r w de black ridge an' de twilight settle over de place spreadin1 a sort of orange hue over de place. I wants to walk de paths th'ew e de woods an* see de rabbits an1 watch de birds an1 listen to frogs at night. But dey tuk me away f'©m dat a long time ago. •jTwarn't long befo' I ma1 led an' had chilluns, but don't none of •era 'tribute to my suppote now. One of 'em was killed in de big ;rar wid Germany and de res' is all scattered out...eight of 'em. •Now I jus' live C'qiq han' to mouth; here one day, somewhere else de nex'. I guess we's all a-goin1 to die iffen dis 'pression dnm't let us 'lone. Maybe someday I'll git to go home. Dey tells me dat when a pusson crosses dat ribber, de Lawd gives him whut he wants. I done tol! de Lawd X don.' t want no thin' ;:uch..only my home, white folksy I don't think dats much to f.y$ for. I suppose he'll sen' me back dar> I been a-waitin' for him to call.M .': sh. Copy '-.L. D. 5-?4-37 t^^igj^^Pf3^ Alabama '''^-^Bs-::'^ ' -MM «^aci fttle. ' 'W9i J0002 'Ljc^% . _. ¦' ' - pierjATBox. . TOoto) j ^-q George, Plllard, born in Richmond/ Va., in 1852, now idles about / his little home at Eutaw and recalls days when he was a slave. The memories bring smiles to his wrinkled, black face. 'Honey, dar was a dance every Sattidy night," he chuckled, "an* / \ all de niggers high fbout broke dey legs adancin.1" "And didn't you dance just as hard as the others, Uncle George?" "Well, Mistus, I was right spry; but I was at my best in de job of pickin1 de banjer. I shortly did love to pick dat box while de other niggers danced away." George said his family came from Virginia to Missis-sippi, and that he came to Greene County about 60 years ago. His two masters were a Lr. Dillard and Bob Steele. G-eorge explained that he was a field hand and had to work hard sost of the time. "But us had plenty to eat," he said. "De food was cooked in 01* Uatus1 kitchen an1 sont to de fiel1 on a big cart. I 'member dat a bell would ring for us to git up, an1 we would work as long as it was daylight." George said that Mr. Steele owned about 200 slaves and that he always had plenty of everything. The plantilfcion, he said, consisted of &out 2,000 acres. "01' Massa had a church right on de plantation for us niggers," ne continued. "Many's de time * danced late in de night an1 den had to ait up an* g#to church wid de rest. All of us'bad to go. A white 'an would preach, but I allus enjoyed de singin1 most of all»r pi»»^w^»i^f^^^l PIPPgSRPSBSB -P'"::::1i:H 2 - I ? •*$ G-eorge believes earnestly that ghosts exist, but admits they have never bothered blra. "Dey is all aroun1," he maintains, "but dey don't follow me, Ko'mjI's not 'fraid of fem; but I knows plenty of niggers dat'll run if a ghost so much as breshes by em.M j^t- The old darkey said that "atter freedom come to de worl1" he j continued'to live with his master and worked a share crop. He said that ir. Steele was always, fair and good to him; always giving him the best of everything. G-eorge married Cella Shelton, and to them were born twenty-four children. "It was a bunch of dem," he said, "but I loved ebry one. I had a nice weddinr an' de white folks helped me to git myself a 'oman an' then to git married to her." *' " flash. Copy, 5/2/37. Alabama * $ rw Ila B. Prlne J*'-*-^/ Mobile, Ala., Nc$> ELLA'S WHITE HEN IS v\v HEAPS OF COMPANY Ella Dilliard, an old Negro woman who lives at 756 Canal Street, Mobile, says she was a small girl during slavery time, and does not know the hardships of it, because she was owned by good people. Her mother's name was Mary Norris, owned by Mrs. Calvin Norris, who lived in Selma, Ala., but had a homestead in Mobile. Her father belonged to people by the name of Childress, and his name was Green Childress. She doesn't remember raueh about him because his white people took him to Texas. Ella said that her mother was her madame's hairdresser, and that Mrs. Norris had her mother taught in Mobile. So Ella's life was very easy, a.3 she stayed around the big house with her mother, although her grandmother, Penny Anne Norris, cared for her more than her mother did. One of the things she remembers quite distinctly was her grandmother's cooking on the fireplace, and how she would not allow any one to spit in the fireplace. She said her grandmother made corn-pone and wrapped it in shucks and baked it in ashes. Ella said she did not know many colored people, since the quarters were quite a ways from the big house, and that the plan- tation was managed by an overseer. She said the quarters were built in rows with streets between them. She also remembers the first boat she ever saw. that was '•hen she was brought to Mobile after the surrender, and when she saw the boat she said to her mother: "Look at that house sitting on the water." 113 Alabama - 2 - 11.4 Ella said that there were three cooks at the big house, their names being Hannah, Judy,and Charlotte, and the gardener*s name was Uncle John. Ella also said that one thing that she remembers so well about the kitchen in the big house was a large dishpan, that had a partition in the middle of it, one side you washed the dishes in, and the other side was used for scalding them. The slaves always had Saturdays to wash their clothes and do things for themselves. Ella, not having lived among Negroes, does not know much about their habits and customs, but she does remem- ber seeing the big white covered wagons that the slaves were carried in to be sold; and remembers hearing talk of the "Patty- rollers. H She said when the slaves were sold, they were put on a block, and that the man who were buying would look in their mouths Just like they did horses. Ella said she was born in G-reensboro, Alabama, but the plan- tation where she later lived was on the Alabama river near Selma, Ala. She doesn't know how many acres it comprised, or how many slaves that her master owned. She remembers her madame made her stop calling her mother "mammy," and her father "daddy." She said: "You know, Miss, that the white children now-a-days calls their parents 'mammy and daddy' like the colored people used to. The children now do not respect their parents as they should, and in fact everything is so different the truth done 'be under the table.' You know, miss, I am telling the truth, because the Bible says, 'Woe be unto the one that lies; Judgment is on the land'. "In those days people had to work to live, and they raised most everything they used, such as cattle, hogs, cotton, and foodstuff. Then the women spun the thread out of the cotton, and Alabama - 3 - 115 wove the cloth,11 Ella helped her grandmother at the weaving by picking up the shuttles for her. She said they generally used the cloth as it was woven. The shoes were made on the place and were called red bro- gans. As for the churches, the white folks had the bush arbor camp meetings, where the people would go and camp in little cabins for weeks, so they could attend the church. They had newspapers then, Ella said, "but 'course they ain't like you have now, p there warn't so many as there is now. "You asked something, miss, about medicines. I don't remem- ber much about any medicine, because Mr. Calvin Norris was a doc- tor, and he always treated us when we were sick. There was a Dr. Browder who 'tended the plantation.tt , Ella is a bright colored, small woman, whose eyes are very keen. She says that a short time ago she had Some trouble with her eyes, and she got something from the drug store to bathe them with, but it did not help them. So she caught some pure rain water and "anointed" her eyes with that, and now she can see to thread a needle. Her life has been very colorful inr many respects. She recalled as a small child, that, during the war, a minie-ball came through a brick wall of the servant house where they were living, but it fell without harming any of the servants. She said when Wilson's raid was made on Selma, that the Yankee men went through the houses Just like dogs, taking whatever they wanted. HI 'members Mr. Parkman putting two sacks of money down in his big well, and him getting it out with hooks after the Yankees left.n Later when she was brought to Mobile she worked for Judge Alabama - 4 - iJL6 Oliver Semmee for twenty years. Judge Semmes was the son of Ad- miral Raphael Semmes, and she said he was a blessed, good man. For the past fourteen years she has been working for the Frank Lyons family of Mobile. Ella lives in a double tenement house, having one room and a small kitchen. The room is full of old furniture and odd things. On the mantle is a lovely old china pitcher that once was owned by Judge Semmes and which Ella prizes very much. The thing that puzzles Ella most among the modern inventions, she said, are the aeroplanes, and the way ice is made. She said: "Miss, we never had any ice way back yonder. We had nice, old, open brick wells, and the water was Just like ice. We would draw the water and put around the milk and butter in the dairy. It's a mystery to me how they make that i,ce, but, my goodness! I guess I need not worry my head about things, because I am not here for long. All my family is dead and gone now, and the only companion I have is this here little white hen, Her name is Mary. You see, I bought her last year to kill for Christmas, but I couldnft do it. She is so huraanj and you ought to see the eggs she lays. I even have a few to sell sometimes. I just keeps Mary in the room at night with me, and she is heaps of company for me.H 3I3LI0GRAPHY: Personal interview with Ella Dilliard, 756 Canal Street, Mobile, Ala. R.L.D. 9-9-37 Alabama Woodrow Hand, 11 < Birmingham, Alabama. Ji.. V / V / «.. RUFUS WOULD TALK A LOT FOR A DIME. Foreword: This Negro, Rufus Dirt, was found on one of Birmingham's busiest streets begging for coins. Because of his inability to read, he was unable to even give the number or location of his home. All he knew was "jes* som'ers on Southside, boss." ¦I'll drop a dime in your hat uncle if you'll stand here and talk to me for a few minutes." wSho' boss, iffen you wants, I'll talk all day fo* dat much money. I'se been here fo1 a long time an' I knows plenty to talk 'bout# What does yo' want to know?" I explained my interest in slavery days and my search for ex-slaves, but he began telling me before I had time *«r- finish. His ability to talk had somehow escaped what his age had done to his hair, which was sparse as well as snowy white. His eyes were a glazy red. One hand and arm seemed to be crippled, but the other waved around in the air as he talked and finally settled on my shoulder. "Boss, I don' rightly know jes1 how old I is. I was a driver (Negro boss of other slaves) during slavery and I reckons I was about twenty sompln'. I don' remember nothin* in particular that caused me to get dat drivin' Job, ceptin' hard work, but I knows dat I was proud of it 'cause I didn' have to work so hard no mo'. An' den it sorta' made de other niggers look up to me, an' you knows us niggers, boss. Nothin* nakee us happier dan' to strut in front of other niggers. Dere ain't nothin* much to tell about. We jes* moved one crop atter de other till layin' by time come and den we'd start in on Ittb winter work. We done tes' 'bout de same as all de other plantations. "My massa's name was Dlgby and we live at Tuscaloosa befo' ^e ^ar. An' *bout dat war, white folksfldem was some scary times. De Alabama - 2 - "** nigger women was a-f eared to breathe out loud come night an1 in de day time, dey didn't work much 'cause dey was allus lookin1 fo' de Yankees. Dey didn' come by so much 'cause atter de first few times. Dere wa'nt no reason to come by. Dey had done et up ever*thing and toted off what dey didn' eat. Dey tuk all Massa's stock, burned down de smokehouse atter dey tuk de meat out, an' dey burned de barn, an' we'all think ever' time dat dey goin' to burn de house down, but dey musta forgot to do dat. "When de war was finally over an' I was free, my family went to Vicksburg, Mississippi where we made a livin1 first one way an' den de other. I don' know how long we stayed dere, but I was livin* in Bummin'ham when dere wa'nt no thin' much here a'tall. I watched all de big buildin's 'round here go up and I see'd dem build all de big plants and I'se still watchln', but I still don1 know how to tell folks where places is, 'cause I don' know how to read numbers. I I goes anywhere I wants to go an1 I don' ever get lost, but jes' de same, I can't tell nobody where I am. I don' even know where we is standin' talking like dis right now. An' boss, I ain't beggin' 'cause I'se too lazy to work. I'se worked plenty in my time till I crippled dis arm in de mines and befo' my eyes got so bad,M and with a grace and gentleness that may be called a characteristic of his generation, he added, "I hopes I'se told you what you wants to know." He had. I felt well repaid for the dime I had given him. As he walked off down the street, I noticed for the first time the large crowd that had gathered around us. Evidently slave tales carry more interest than this writer realized, 'flash. Copy 5/14/37 l.H. Alabama Susie R. O'Brien, .#fv*rv:.» Uniontown, Alabama. . &_ V/ _i*».f *«/:...... CABINS A3 FAR AS YOU COULD SEE. "Ma" Eppes sat on the steps of her weatherbeaten, unpainted little cabin, duplicate of the dozens that make up Rat Row, Negro quarter of Uniontown, and looked down the vista of memory to her childhood when she lived in "where de log cabins stretched as far as you could see in de slave qua'ters." Despite her eighty-seven years, Katherine Eppes, known to every- one as "Ma," came as spr^ly to her tiny porch as her rotund body would permit. She smiled broadly at her interviewer and seated herself slowly. "Sho1, honey, I can tell you mo'n anything you want to know 'bout be big fight, 'ca'se * been here a long time," she began her story. "Dey ain't many lef' to tell 'bout dem days. My mammy an1 pappy was Peter an' Emma ^ines an' us all belonged to %rsa.Frank and MiSS Sarah Lines. I w?s born on dey plantation five miles below Faunsdale 'bout 1850 so dey tells me. "I is right ol1 but thank ^awd * still got my teefies an' my ha'r lef." Proudly the old woman unwrapped her "head rag" to display a thick mop, wooly white but neatly parted into squares. Dozens of A little plaits, wrapped with yards of twine, just as her hair had been Pressed in the slave quarters before the War, adorned her head. She sat ?ith uncovered head unblinking in the bright June sunshine, as she took l'P the tele of her health. "I sees pretty good, too, but I's so hebby * ain't able to toe myse'f 'roun as pert as I useter. "It was diff'rent back in dem days when I belonged to rich white ?°i::s. Dey had plenty of niggers an' dey was log cabins in de quarters -es' as far as your eyes could see. Marsa Frank an1 Miss Sarah was good 00 :e black folks, too. ®ey son, young marsa *'rank, fit in de big war. Alabama • • •¦»¦>'. •; •••5- •*-- -v Atter de war wafti over,,J...sta^d^pn^f^.;J^Ln^S* ;.;©iajjevi;i_twell. attef 3 ma' l#d, an1 01' Miss gin me my weddia1 dress $nV a reil down to my foots. "When us was chillun in de quarters we did a mighty lot of playin1. Us us eta play 'Sail away Rau^ey'-a/W&ole lot. Us would hoi1 han's an' go 'roun' in a ring, gittin' faster, an* faster an1 dem what fell down was outa de game. "My mammy wukked in de. Big House, aspinnln* an* anussin' de white chillun. All of dem called her 'mammy.' Ah 'members one thing jes' lack it was yestiddy. Mj.88 Sarah went to 'Mospolis (Bsmopolls) to visit wid her sister, an' whilst she were gone de oberseer, what go by de name of Alien* whupped ray Mammy crost her back 'twell de blood runned put. "When Miss Sarah corned back an' foun* it out, she was de maddes ¦*;. V?'. white lady I. eber seed. She sontJjb.de oberseer, an* she say: 'Allen, what you mean by whupping Mammy? You know I don't allow you to tech my house servants.' She jerk her dress down an' stapi' dere lookin' like a sojer wid her white shoulders shinin' lack a snow bank, an' she say: 'I druther see dem marks on my own shoulders dan to see 'era on Mammy's. Bey wouldn't hurt me no wuss.1 Den she say: 'Allen, teck your farably an' git of fen my place. Don't you lep sundown ketch you here. 'So he lef'« He wasn't nothin1 but white trash nohow.1 "Ma" Eppes sat silent for a time as she recalled the vision of Hiss Sarah standing straight and regal in her dismissal of the overseer. Anally she turned VHfe with an abrupt change of subject. "Honey, is you a Christian?" she asked earnestly, "ft hopes you is, ca'se you is too fine lookin' for to go to Hell. I b'longs to de Bap- tis1 Church, an1 dey calls me Ma Eppes 'ca'se I'sf de mother of de chmreh* loves to sing de gospel Hymns." She began to sing in a high, cracked voice, her body swaying with IV-- Alabama - 3 - 121 the rhythm. The song rose until her neighbors had gathered to form quite an audience. With much moaning between every line, she sangJ "I am a sojer ,of de Cross, A follerer of de Lam1. I'm not afeard to own nis name, Nor to 'fen' His cause." (Chorus) "I wan' you to come, I wan' you to come, I wan1 you to come An1 be saved." She was still singing as I left her, the neighbors joining in the choruses. Suppers would be late in the row of weatherbeaten cabins, be- cause the spirit of song was on the gathering. Washington Copy, 6/29/37. L. H. Alabama A HOEN FOR A HEADACHE. i ±22 Beuben Fitzpatrick, of Eugene Street, Montgomery, was horn Jan. 9, 185^, (83 years old). He says: MMy Marster wuz Mister Gholson from Bullock county* He had lots uv slaves fcause he wuz a rich man. I wuz jes1 a hoy ten years ole an1 he wuz a squire dat tried cases, so he rode all over de country to dif ffunt places* I rode wid him to hole his horse. He wore a high top black hat and had a buggy wid a top dat let back. When we went we wuz gone a long time an1 when night come he would fix it fer me to sleep wid some uv de niggers in de quarters where we stopped. I sho1 lacked to go fbout wid him.tt "Ify mother wuz de cook. She had rule over all the cookin1. She spinned thread an1 reeled it off too." "When de Yankees come through de country I seed fem all runiii1 so I thoiight it wuz jedgment day an1 I named an1 hid under de chimney an1 stayed dere 'tel night. Dey didnft tarry long, but dey drove de horses right up on de piazza, and throwed ever1 thing out de houses, eben knocked down de smoke fouse doors. Datfs de throe* #w 11'One time I was taken to the slave market and I was screwed on the block and i Mr. Martin bought me and my Mamma. The man that was selling us would holler "tho'll bid? Whofll bid?M He wuz supposed to be spry and fidgety so as to make the men want to buy us. My fust Marster was Wash Jones. He wan*t good to us, He would hit us wid his cane jes1 as if it had been a switch. Ben Jones didnft like the way Harse Wash treated us niggers, He bought us for his son." "We didnH have no doctors much in dem days, but us had a horn us use when we pt sick. If ^ had the headache that horn would go right over the spot and it puldn't be no time ffore the painfd be gone. We!d use that horn anytime we wuz ailing an1 it'd sho1 do the work. I used to have the horn but I don't know jes* *ere it is now." fash. Copy, 5/V37. fc. H. * &!& v.*s^§?^-r ?y$W:M'3£fi*'^ ^•^^?;>'^:^^;v^P'^|:^^^^^;'vv-'r! ^^^Pfpf^W^^^m'^ '¦¦¦¦-'-- iii iIpSifliir;ii flriiiiiiinAt' iiWitfifi! iifif»»' rr ' •"'•¦•t "White folks,¦ said Heywood Ford, "I^e gonna tell you a story 'bout a mean oberseer an1 whut happened to him durin1 de slabery days. It all commenced when a nigger named Jake Williams got a whuppin* for stayin1 out atter de time on his pass done gib out. All de niggers on de place hated de oberseer wuss dariMzen, 'caze he was so mean an* useta try to think up things to whup us for. "One mornin1 de slaves was lined up ready to eat dere breakfas* an' Jake Williams was a pettin' his ole red-bone houn1. fBout dat time de oberseer come up an1 seed Jake a pettin* his houn* an' he sayJ ¦Nigger you ainft got time to fee a-foolin*'long dat dog. Now make him git.1 Jake tried to make de dog go home, but de dog didn,t want to leave Jake. Den de oberseer pick up a rock an* slam de dog in de cack. De dog he den went a-howlin1 off. "Dat night Jake he come to my cabin an' he say to me: 'Hey- wood, I is gonna run away to a free State. I ain't a-gonna put up wid dis treatment no longer. I can't standmich mo1 I gibs him my han1 an' I say: 'Jake, I hopes you gits dere. Maybe I'll see you ag'in sometime.* "'Heywood,' he says, *I wish you'd look atter my houn1' celle» Feed her an' keep her de bes* you kin. She a mighty good possum an' coon dog. I hates to part wid her, but I knows dat you is de bes* pusson 1 could leave her wid,' An' wid dat Jake slip out de do* an' I seed him a-walkln' toward de swamp down de long furrows of cawn. "It didn't take dat oberseer long to fin* out dat Jake done run ev-r£.y, an', when he did, he got out de blood houn*s an1 started off atter him. It warn't long afore Jake heered dem houn*8 a-howlin* in ¦^7\i ¦¦•¦ ^V J Alatettk ' '' ' .' • a'*p*ir '¦¦¦¦' ,;.-..; ...,/-,...r^.,-^..., ,-..„7;,..C;:v-,~;.^;.^..^*: de distance. Jake he was too tired to go any further. He circled 'roun' an1 doubled on his tracks so as to confuse de houn*s an* den he ci&mb a tree, f'warn't long afore he seed del light of de oberseer comin' th'ogh de woods and de dogs was a^gittiri* closer an1 closer, Finally dey sraelled de tree dat Jake was in an1 dey started barkin1 'roun1 it. De oberseer lif' his lighted pine knot in de air so's he could see Jake. He say: 'Nigger, come on down fum dere. You done wasted 'nuff of our time.' But Jake, he neber move nor make a sound an1 all de time de dogs keppa howlin' an' de oberseer keppa swearin'. 'Come on down,' he say as7in; 'if fen you don't l'se comin' up an' knock you out en de tree wid a stick.' Jake still he neber moved an1 de oberseer den began to climb de tree. When he got where he could almos' reach Jake he swung dat stick an' it come down on Jake's leg an1 hurt him tur'ble. Jake, he rai- sed his foot an1 kicked de oberseer raght 5fi de mouf, an' dat white man rent a tumblin' to de groun1. When he hit de earth dem noun's pounced on him. Jake he den lowered hisself to de bottom limbs so's he could see what had happened. He saw de dogs a-tearin' at de man an' he holla! 'Hoi' 'im, Belle." Hoi' 'im, gal." De leader of dat pack of houn's, white folks, warn't no blood houn$. She was a plain old red-bone possum an' coon dog, an1 de res' done jus1 lak she done, tearin' at de ober- seer' s th'oat. All de while, Jake he a-hollerin' f'um de tree fer dem dogs to git 'im. 'Twarn't long afore dem dogs to' dat man all to pieces. He died raght under dat maple tree dat he run Jake up. Jake he an1 flat coon houn1 struck off through de woods. De res' of de pack come home. "I seed Jake atter us Higgers was freed. Dats how come I Snowed all 'bout it. It musta been six years atter dey killed de ober- seer. It was in Kentucky dat * run across Jake. He was a-sittin' on some steps of a nigger cabin, ihoun1 dog was a-sittin' at his side. Alabama 3 - ¦> < ^ r ' n. "S ^.VWg I tells him how glad I is to see him, an* den I lodfc at de dog. 'tat ain't Belle,' I says. 'Naw,' Jake answers, Dis her puppy.' Den he tol1 me de whole story. I always did want to know what happen to fem. %sli. Copy, 6/3/37. L. H. .. ••..-- '?-•:'' • i> ¦¦¦¦¦& •*:&* ¦. ¦¦¦• if- ":'i'- fi^V v. •>. Al Alabama . Preston Klein, Jack Kytle , m% ¦ WANTS MY FRIENDS TO QQ WID ME (Photo) S\ Wants my friends to go wid me, New Jerusalem; Wonder ef I'll ever git to heaven, New JerusalemI Nappy-headed, humble little Bert Frederick sang the old song in a voice that trembled and broke on the high notes. His black face beamed when he had finished, and "de old times" came flooding b.-.ck into his mind. "Honey, 01 • Master usta sing dat good song to us niggers; an' { Jj he allus could sing it so purty.M Uncle Frederick, like all the other gray-bearded Negroes of the Old South, is occupied mostly these days with getting ready to :;ieet "de Sweet Jesus." As well as he can remember, he was around 12 years old when "de hawn of freedom sounded." He shook his white head when the interviewer asked his age, a i'Lov;- smile spreading over his face. "Honey chile, you's axed me a riddle. I disremember 'bout dat. Deaes1 I kin tell you is dat I is eighty-odd-but as to 'zackness, I ;an«t tell." Some years ago, Uncle Frederick suffered a broken back in an :ocident. Since then he has been unable to stand erect, but can ...t• heighten his back when seated. Therefore, he politely asked to lown when he was asked to pose for a picture. Kis first master, he says, was Dr. Rich Vernon, who lived in abers County. Afterward, he was sold to William Frederick. He chuckled as he recalled the old days. "I was a shirt-tail nigger," he laughed. "Dat is, I wore jes' V Al£&fatiJK&':, ";/#|^^;;:;;-:; 0:^^-'^ :¦:¦¦:¦'¦:. C'^'^l a long shirt Hwel:'I::was;m 1j^j^^j&»p2^$^ I was a sight to look&tJ" "What did I do about de plantation? Well, I driv de cow.s an* sheep to pasture an1 seed dat no eagles kotched de lamps. Us had big eagles 'roun1 denf an' us had to be keerful wid de small stock, Sf us warn't, ol' eagle ud swoop down an* tote off a whole lamb, "Us had a time in dem days. I ?members dat us had a pen to ketch wild turkeys in* An* us kotched a few of dem, too," Uncle Frederick's mother was Harriett Lumpkin, who lived below Opelika. He had three sisters, Mary Dowdell, Anne Carlisle and Er.ii.ia Boyd; but all are dead, y "When de Yankees come to Alabama," he recalled, *Q1» Master tcl* de niggers to hitch up all de wagons §nf load all de food an1 tech on fem. Us had 'bout forty acres of yiwamp land, so us hid de stuff de're. "'Pore long I seed a long string of black an1 white horses, wjd rallies behin^ dem. Dey had packs on dey back. In de packs was grub oe Yankees had tuk off'en de white peoples." "Did you enjoy the old slavery days, Uncle?" "Yes, chile, dey was good days. Some of de white peoples was c:.d to de niggers, but my Ol1 Master warn't &&.% kind. Dat de reason he would let all de niggers sit aroun' whilst he was singin'; an' he could sing." Uncle Frederick putters about his tiny home in Opelika, managing to :jrow a profusion of flowers and vegetables despite his bent back. He was hoeing in his garden whfcn the interviewer came upon him, but ne eugerly laid down the hoe when told what was sought. "Uncle, I want to talk with you about the old times." A labama -3- 128 "Lordy me, chile," he beamed, his eyes twinkling, "you done foun* de raght niggerl" r,'o.£h. Copy H < j_i »D • 6-7-37 /' Alabama 10227 (PHOTO) WAS TT DEM DAYS WZ HELL Margaret Fowler, Fruithurst Jack Kytle, Editor "A Delia Garlic lives at 43 Stone Street, Montgomery, and insists she is 100 years old. Unlike many of the old Negroes of the South, she has no good words for slavery days or the old masters, declaring; "Dem days *fehell." She sat on her front porch and assailed the taking of young children from mothers and selling-them in different parts of the country. "I int£ growed up when de war come, H she said, "an* I 'miat a mother befo' it closed. Babies waz snatched from dere mother's areas' an' sold to speculators* Chilluns wcez separated from sis- ters an' brothers an1 never saw each other ag'ln. "Course dey cry; you think dey not cry when dey was, sold lak cattle? I could tell you 'bout it all day, but even den you could- n't guess de awfulness of it. "It's bad to belong to folks dat own you soul an' body; dat can tie you up to a tree, wid yo' face to de tree an' yo' arms fastened tight aroun* it; who take a long curlln' whip an* cut de blood ever' lick* "Folks a mile away could hear dem awful whippings. Dey w»z ;-i•¦¦¦-• . a turrible part of living" Delia said she was born at Powhatan, Virginia, and was the youngest of thirteen children. HI never seed *YJr A of my brothers an* sisters 'cept brother y^t-4 William, w she said. "Him an' my mother an1 me.w«i brought in a speculator's drove to Richmon' an' put in a warehouse wid a drove of other niggers. Den we wax all put on a block an' sol' to de highes* bidder. Alabama - 2 - 130 "I never seed brother William ag'in. Mammy an1 me wttz sold to a man by de name of Carter, who m de sheriff of de county. "No'm, dey warn't no good times at his house. He max. a widower an* his daughter kept house for him. I nursed for her, an1 one day I wM playin1 wid de baby. It hurt its 11'1 nan' an' commenced to cry, an* she whirl on me, pick up a hot iron an1 run It all down my arm an1 han'. It took off de flesh when she done it. "Atter awhile, marster married ag'in; but things warn't no better. I seed his wife blackln' her eyebrows wid smut one day, so I thought I'd black mine jes' for fun. I rubbed some smut on my eyebrows an1 forgot to rub it off, an1 she kotched me. She waz wia<,/' powerful mad an' yelled: 'You black devil, 1*11 show you how to mock your betters.• "Den she pick up a stick of stovewood an1 flails it ag'in' my head. I didn't know nothin' more 'till I come to, lyin» on de floor. I heard de mistus say to one of de girls: 'I thought her thick skull and cap of wool could take it better than that.• "I kept on stayin' dere, an1 one night de marster come in drunk an' set at de table wid his head lollin' aroun'. I mn.wtL.4.. waitin* on de table, an1 he look up an1 see me* I wu£ skeered, an* dat made him awful mad. He called an overseer an1 tol' him: •Take her out an1 beat some sense in her.' "I begin to cry an1 run an' run in de night; but finally I run back by de quarters an* heard mammy callin' me. I went in, an' raght away dey come for me. A horse was standin1 in front of de house, an1 I wax took dat very night to Richmon1 an1 sold to a speculator ag'in. I never seed my mammy anyinore. HI has thought many times through all dese years how mammy looked dat night. She pressed my han' in bofe of hers an' said: Alabama - 3 - 131 'Be good an' trus' in de Lawd.» ¦Trustin' was de only hope of de pore black critters in dem days. Us jest prayed fer strength to endure it to de end. We didn't 'spect nothin' but to stay in bondage 'till we died. "I was sol* by de speculator to a man in McDonough, Ga. I don't ricolleckhis name, but he was openin' a big hotel at Mc- Donough an' bought me to wait on tables. But when de time come aroun' to pay for me, his hotel done fall. Den de Atlanta man dat bought de hotel bought me, too. 'Fo» long, dough, I was sol'jto a man by de name of Garlic, down in Louisiana, an' I stayed wid him 'till I w«2 freed. I was"a regular fiel' han', plowin' an* hoeln' an' choppin' cotton. *Us heard talk *bout de war, but us didn't pay no 'tention. Us never dreamed dat freedom would ever come." Delia was asked if the slaves ever had any parties or dances on her plantation "No'm," she replied, "us didn't have no parties; nothin' lak dat. Us didn't have no clothes for goin' 'roun. I never had a undershirt until Jest befo' my first chil' was borned. I never had nothin' but a shimmy an' a slip for a dress, an1 it wbe made out*en de eheapes* cloth dat could be bought; unbleached cloth, coarse, but made to las'? "Us didn' t know nothin' 'cept to work. Us *w«* up by three or four in de mornin' an' everybody got dey somethin' to eat in de kitchen. Dey didn't give us no way to cook, nor nothin' to cook in our cabins. Soon as us dressed us went by de kitchen an' got *viw r our piece of cornbread. Dey wuxa't even no salt in dem las' years. Dat piece of cornbread wa* all us had for breakfus*, an' for supper, us had de dame. Alabama - 4 - * 09 "For dinner us had boiled vittles; greens, peas an' some- times beans. Coffee? Np'm, us never knowed nothin' 'bout coffee. "One mornin1 I 'members I had started to de fiel',an' on de way I los' my piede of bread. I didn't know what to do. I started back to try to fin' it, an1 it was too dark to see. But I walk back raght slow, an' had a dog dat walked wid me. He went on ahead, an' atter awhile I come on him lyin' dere guardin1 dat piece of bread. He never touched it, so I gived him some of it. "Jus* befo' de war I married a man named Chatfield from another plantation; but he was took off to war an' I never seed him ag'in. Atter awhile I married a boy on de plantation named Miles Garlic. "Yas'm, Massa Garlic had two boys in de war. When dey went off de Massa an' missis cried, but it made us glad to see dem cry. Dey made us cry so much. "When we knowed we was free, everybody wanted to git out. De rule wuz dat if you stayed in yo' cabin you could keep it, but if you lef, you los* it. Miles wa* workin1 at Wetumpka, an' he » slipped in an' out so us could keep on livin' in de cabin. wMy secon' baby soon come, an' raght den I made up my min1 to go to Wetumpka where Miles irax workin' for de railroad. I went on down dere an1 us settled down. "Atter Miles died, I lived dere long as I could an' den come to Montgomery to live wid my son. I'se eatin' white bread now an' havin' de best time of my life. But when de Lawd say, 'Delia, well done; come up higher,' I'll be glad to go." Wash. Copy a.L.D. 0-9-37 Alabama Ruby Pickens Tartt, i'^ 10224 Livings-ton, Alabama. MULES BE EATIN1 AND NIGGERS BE EATIN1. She sat in the door of her amall oabln>- & ohort di-efrgtnee ifygm Livingston, Alabama in philsophlcal reflection. Time has not softened her memories. As~-she~J&l£lJ&&^ bl 11 e r««-s^^^a€MSAd.^Kjar^herjfa ce. /^L- "Xic """The" said. f**^ *X*& Angie Garrett,"/ "I wao about olicftecir ytTaTB. at begli'inlng-uv de Wa'«—-S-tfsnr dawn in De Kalb, Mississippi. My mother was Betty Scott, an! I didn't know my father's name. I had four brothers, Ember, Johnny, Jinmie, and Henry; and three sisters, Delphie, Lizzie Sue, and Frankie, and my grandmother was Sukie Scott. She lived five miles from Gainesville across ^oxubee Creek Lift, full; Oka HeumTjim) an' I lived wid her. Never axed 'bout my grand (oaddy, 'caze wa'n't no tellin'. My mammy lived right here in Gainesville an' belonged to Mr. Sam Harwood. "I b'longed to de Moorings and Cap'^n Mooring run on a boat to Mo- bile from Aberdeen, Mississippi,* 'twuo» on de 'Bigbee river an€ 'twus call- ed cleGremonia. I was de house gal£ anf nuss^ an£ I slep' on a pallet in old i-iss's room. I had a plenty to eat long as us was on dat boat, -and »:t sno' was good. But when us was in De Kalb, vittles was giv' out at de smoke house, a slice o' meat and piece of bread and peas, and 'twus sarr.t out ter de fiel'. Mules be eatin* and niggers be eatin'. "I nussed de Moorings little boy Johnny. De little gal^died. Mr. °ccu in De Kalb had 'bout fifty slaves and a big plantation and a over- Se^ nase' Barnes. He was a haughty man, and niggers was skeered to le8t "caze he would come in a-cussin'. •b-v -pre "Us would git up 'fo' daylight. 'Twus dark when go out, dark wtoao lCc~e in. Us make a little fire in de fiel* some mawnin's, hit beeze so ico^d; ~3n ug let J^Xt go out 'fo' de overseer come. Ef he seed you he'd Alabama - 2 - 334 make yer lay down flat on yo' belly,foots tied out and han's tied out and whoop yer,«4A olapper. leather strap wid a handle, Bwt T wag laldf * 'trou'b' u eh«er. I been whooped 'tel I tell lies on myself to make 'em quit. Say dey whoop 'till I'd tell de troof, so I had ter lie 'bout i&jni se'f keep 'em from killin1 me. Dis here race is rao1 Jwrr' de chillun wr» fr) Isreal. didn't have *«r shoot no gun fcw set wts. free* signs an' conju' an' all dat stuff. My mammy wouldn' let us tote a axe on our shoulder th'ough de house, an' she wouldn' 'low a umbrella to be opened in de house, say hit bring bad luck. She neber fail to hab cown-flel' peas an hawg-Jowl for dinner on New Yeah's Day, She say hit a sign you hab plenty to eat balanoe ob m Alabama - 7 - de yeah. She put a ball of azzifittity on a string an' make all u$ chillun wear it 'roun1 our neck to keep off sickness. If a owl bee gin to hoot ober in Tombigbee bottom too close to de house, she put de shovel in de fire to make him stop, "Wall, sir, I come to Bummin'ham mos* forty yeahs ago when Marse Josiah Morris Finish de Morris Hotel, I fust run de elevators a while, den dey wukked me in de saloon what useter be jes1 back of de office. I been heah eber sence. I 'speck 'bout de las' thing dat '11 happen to dis ole nigguh will be to haul him away from de Morris Hotel in a black box, "But Lawdy, Cap'n, I got to git up to Jedge Ab's co'te. Lissen, Cap'n, iffen I gits dat no'count nevvew outten Jail I sho' would lak to git him a Job, You don't know nobody what don't want to hire nobody to do nothin' does you?" Wash. Copy 6/3/37 T.E.B. sill Ira S* Jordan, Editorial Bepartment* BBYPLOTEBB m. ^ SILVER IE BE EEEL*. ft^^ MMb, honey, I neber seed my mammy. She died when I was l)£wn, anr my Mistis Mary ^Mitchell raised me in de Big House. I \/as named a'ter her sister, Miss Georgia. I slep'-in her room an1 I was a house nigger all my days. I neber went to a nigger ciiu'ch 'tell I was grown an' mard, didn' sociate wid niggers 'cause I was a nu'smaid. I raised Miss Molly, her las' baby. *I was bawn at "Elm ore land*, Massa Americus Mitchell's place, mor'n ninety yeahs ago, an' a'ter Creedom I stayed dah 'tel ole Massa died an' my Mistis moved to Eufaula to live wid her son, Mahs Merry. w,Bout all I know of de wawh is when dey said - rde Yan- kees is eomin', de Yankees is comin'. Us sho' was skeerd, an' dere'd be some fas* doin's about Ce place. All de cattle an' hawgs an hosses we criv,/to de sv/amp on de nawth creek, an' de feather beds down dere too an' -.ic. 'em in de bresh an' leaves. My Ilistis tied her trinkets in se.cks an' put 'em in outlandish places lak de hen-house an de hs.j lof. An' de silver, dey planted in de fiel." •/ash. Copy, 4/27/37. I;. H. '-¦*&. -P, 57^ C A \KfllO j. R. Jones. j[45 "*& FAMIE GlBi*/^ EX-SLAVE. Born; Place of "birth: Present Residence; Interviewed; About 1850, Ro&noke, Alabama. 1923 - Fifth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia. December 18, 1936. Fannie Gib^was horn the slave property of Mr. Bena^er Goff, a planter of near Roanoke, Alabama. She says that during her girlhood she "piddled in de fiels an hepped in de kitchen o» de big house.11 She has very pleasant memories of slave days, and "wishes to God dat she wuz as comforbly (comfortably) fixed now as she wuz den." Her ante-bellum owner she pictures as a very humane, Christian gentleman --- a man that took great interest in the material and spiritual welfare of his slaves. Two hymns, sung by "Aunt" Fannie for her interviewer, are appended* 146 Going Home To Live With The Lord. Goinf home soon in de mornin', GoinT home soon in de mornin', Ifs goinf home to live with de Lord. In de mornin' so soon, In de mornin' so soon, I's goin' home to live with de Lord. Ifs goin* home to live with de Lord, I's goinf home to live with de Lord, Ifs goin' home soon in de mornin*. 0, de Lord is a-waitin' for me, 0, de Lord is a-waitin' for me, I's goin' home soon in de mornin'. Sung for interviewer by: Fannie Gibson, ex-slave, 1923 Fifth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia, December 18, 1926. 3 147 Where Were You When You Found The Lord? My brother, where were you, My brother, where were you, My brother, where were you, When you found the Lord? I was low down in the valley, I was low down in the valley, I was low down in the valley, When I first found the Lord. My sister, where were you, My sister, where were you, My sister, where were you, When you found the Lord? I was low down in the valley, I was low down in the valley, I was low down in the valley, When I first found the Lord. This song can be extended indefinitely by addressing the question to various members of one's family, and to friends. Sung for interviewer by: Fannie Gibson, ex-slave, 1923 Fifth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia, December 18, 1936. Alabama ,. ,,.... Ila B. Prine, . ^o j-»-,;> Mobile, Alabama. -*-^° FRANK GILL, A SLAVE BOY ESCAPES WHIPPING- j\ BY PULLING TAIL OF FROCK COAT. \v A low, stout, sleek headed Negro man, sat in an old rocking chair in an end room of a long row of rooms of a tenement house at ?08 South "amiiton Street, Mobile, Alabama. This old darkey said, when asked by the writer if he lived during slavery times: u I not only lived durin' slavery times, but I was here before a gun was fired, an* b'fore Lincoln was elected. I tells you, Miss, de fust time I 'members anything - a tale of any kind. J was livin' in Vicksburg, Lee County, Mississippi, an1 mah maw an1 paw's names was Amelia Williams an' Hiram Gill. I couldn't tells you whar dey war from, dough, But I does know dat Mista Arthur an' George Foster owned us, up 'til I wazj a big boy. Dejjrway it was, dereTfother, 01* i.'is-y, was a widow an1 her had dese two boys, an' she had money, I tells you she had barrels ob money; so when de two boys got old lough she divided de slaves, an' property 'tween 'em. Me an' raah fell to Arthur Foster, and sum ob our kindred fell to George Foster. Mister George was a Captain in de army an' was killed near Vicksburg." "De 01' Missy's place shore was big, 1 couldn't say how ^ny acres dere was, but hit run four or five miles, an1 she owned h.. :1reds ob slaves. She had lots ob log cabin quarters, whut had de cracks daubed wid mud, an* den ceiled wid boards. I'se tellin1 yc dey was twice as warm as de houses we lib in now. Dey had e'::bleys built ob mud an' sticks, an' had big wide, fireplaces, $¦'¦'¦ we cooked on, an' de beds was homemade, but Lor' dey was heaps stronger dan dey is now, in dese times. Dem beds was morticed to- £'ftt::er. tjr r ? vi Alabama - 2 - _ .^ 149 "As I said b'fore I was a boy between fourteen or fifteen years old b'fore de slaves was divided, an1 when I was on de Oi1 Missy's place, I stayed armm^deipjise, an' wait on dem, an* 'tend de horses. Anudder thing I had to do, dey would send me for the mail. 2 had to go twelve miles atter hit an' I couldn't read or write, but 1 could bring everybody's mail to dem Jes' right. I knowed I had better git hit right. You see I could kinder figure, so I could make out by de numbers. "01» Missy an' Mister Arthur both was good to me an' all de slaves, dey 'low de slaves to make dere ownjpatch ob cotton, an1 raise chickens, an' he would sell hit for dem. Cotton was de main crop, in dem days, hit would sell as high as twenty-five cents a pound. 'Course dey raises corn, pears, an' other things on de olantation, too, but dey made de cotton./ Master "Jesus.1 dey sum- times made from fifty to one hundred an* fifty bales. BI 'members how all de women had looms, both black and white, v/eavin* cloth for de clothes; an* den dey raised sheep to git de wool to make dem gray uniforms, ^ord, at sheep shearing timei hit was big times. Let me tell you, Miss, dem uniforms was made out ob all wool, too, but J- cain't 'member whut dey used to dye 'em Cray, but I 'members dey dyed wid red oak bark, walnut bark, an' also a brush whut growed down on the branch, also dey used de laurel leaves to dye yellow, as well as clay. Dey sot de dye wid salt, an' hit really stayed in. "Let me tell you, dey really fed us slaves good, up 'til such a length o* time atter de war broke out, den food began to git scarce. "You see de Government taxed 'em, an' dey had to gib so much tr> feed de soldiers. Even den us had a good time, I 'members how Alabama - 3 - _~ 150 de 11 '1 chillun played ball, and marbles, 'specially marbles, hit was our big game. Even atter night, dey had a big light out in de backyard, an' us would play. Sometimes us would hunt at night, and well I 'members one Sat*day night I went huntin* wid mah uncle, an' didn't git in 'til daylight nex' mawning, an' I was sleepy an1 didn't git de shoes all cleaned before church time. So ol' Marsar called me an1 tuk me to de carriage house to gib me a whipping 01* Marser*s boy was about de same age as me an* he beg his paw not to whip me, an' I was beggln', too, but he carried me on, an1 when we got in de carriage house, Ol1 Marser had to climb up on de side wall to git de whip, an* he had on one ob dos long tailed coats, an' hit left dem tails hangin' down, so 1 Jes* grabbed hold ob dem, an' made him fall, an' den 1 run to de Oi* Missy's room, 'ca'se I knowed when I got in dere, dat Ol* Marser would neber hit nDe Ol* Missy got up out ob de bed an' wouldn't let 01* *-arster whip me, an' she got so mad dat she tol* him dat she warn't going to church wid him dat morning, an' dat lack to kill de Ol' i-arster, 'ca'se he shore loved an' was proud ob Ol1 Missy. She ¦'as a beautiful woman. Dat ended de whippin', an' dats de only ttue I 'members him tryin' to whip me. "01' Missy didn't 'low dem to whip de women either, an' dey '."ouldn't 'low de women to roll logs either. But dey did work dem in de fiel's. 'Course dey kept de young woeran wid babies 'roun' c.e nouse, an' dey eat de same grub as de white folks eat. "Talking 'bout log rollln', dem was great times, 'ca'se if some ob de neighborin* plantations wanted to get up a house, dey • ould invite all de slaves, men and women, to come wid dere masters. De women would help wid de cookin* an' you may be shore dey had Alabama - 4 - - r,| something to cook. Dey would kill a cow, or three or four hogs, and den nab peas, cabbage, an1 everything lack grows on de farm. An* if dere was any meat or food lef' dey would gib dat to de slaves to take home, an* Jes* b'fore dark de o'seer or 01' Marster would gib de slaves all de whiskey dey wanted to drink. Sometimes atter de days work, dey would hab a frolic, such as dancin', an* ol' time games. "Dey would hab dese same kind ob gatherin's at cornshuck- ing time, an' cotton plckin* time, but dere warn4t so much foolish- ness at cotton pickin4 time, 'ca'se dey didn't call one anudder den, *ceptin4 when de cotton got so far ahead ob dem, an' was 'bout to set in fer a wet spell, or rainy season. "You axed me 'bout de patty-rollers? You see, de City policemen walkin4 his beat? Well, dats de way de patty-rollin4 was only eacn county had dere patty-rollers, an' dey had to serve three months at a time, den dey was turned loose. And if dey cotch you out widout a pass, dey would gib you thirty-nine lasnes,'ca*se dat was de law. De pattyrollers knowed nearly all de slaves, an* it /urn't very often dey ever beat 'em. "You know folks was jes1 de same den as dey is now, both black, and white. Some folks you could neighbor wid den, jes' lack you can now, an' dere was good folks den, Jes* de same as dey is now. "Christmas time was de bes* ob all, 'ca'se us allus had a big dinner, an* de Ol* Marster gib de women calico dresses an* s .oes, an' de men shoes an* hats, an* would gib us flour, an* sugar, "olasses, an' would buy beer, whiskey an' wine. "De 01* Marster tuk good keer ob us too, when any ob us got sick he send for de doctor, den when dey order de medicine to be Alabama - 5 - ro giben at night, he'd see dat us got hit. But nowadays if you git sick, you hab to git de Doctor, an* den pay him yo' se'f. Den de 01• Marster had to find clothes an* shoes for us, but now us has to scuffle an' git dem de bes* way us can. "You know, Miss, I'se been here a long time, 1 eben 'members Jefferson Davis. I'se seen him a many a time. •*% had a home 'tween Here {Mobile) an* New Orleans, an1 you knows he fust tuk his seat in Montgomery, an' den moved to Richmond, Virginny. "^members, too, how I useta to thinl dat de Baptist was de only religion. You see John de Baptist come here baptizing, an' ever'body had to offer up sacrifices, a goat or a sheep or sumpin', jes4 lack de man who was going to offer up his son for a sacrifice. But you knows, Jesus come an' changed all dat, De folks in dem times didn't hab nobody to worship\ an* den one come, who said, "Father, hand me a body, and I'll die for dem,w Dat's Christ, an' tie was baptized, an1 U-od gib Jesus dis whole world. So I believed, oat was de only religion. ^ MI 'members how us would hab big baptizings an* shout. Us allus went to church in de white folks cnurch, dey had church in 0.e mornings, us had ours ta de afternoons. Us would hab to hab a oass, dough, 'ca'se de church was Bight miles away from de plantation* MDere was plenty old songs us useta to sing, but ¦»¦ can't 'member 'em. Dere is dis one dat goes— 'Wonderful Peter, Wonderful ±*aul, Wonderful Silas, Who for to make a Mah heart rejoice. On Good Shepherds, feed a* mah sheep. Don't you hear de young lambs a bleatin'? Don't you hear de young lambs a bleatin'? Don't you hear de young lambs a bleatin'? Alabama - 6 - 153 Oh.' Good shepnerds feed a' man sheep.'w 3IBLI0&RAPHY: Personal interview with Frank Gill, 708 South Hamilton Street, Mobile, Alabama. Washington Copy, 8/12/37. L • H » :,,,[,..^„,^aai)iii^ Alabama* *jaeiE *>y¥^e> ,. .- Editorial Bepartment, 10125' UOmMB FOR #550. Jim Gillard was eleven years old when the War between the States began. ?hus, the memories of the conflict are fresh; with the retreat j from Rome, Ga., to Salem, Ala., as a refugee transcending the others. Jim was born on a plantation at Pendleton, S. C, and was sold for $350 when he was only three months old. He was one of eight children belonging to James and Hannah Gillard. "Atter bein1 sold, I fust lived 'bout three miles from Rome, Ga., * Jim recalled. "Den, when de Yankees come into Georgy us refugeed fust to Atlanta, den to Columbus an1 later to Salem. Ug was at Salem when de war ended." Jim remembers catching partridges as a boy, taking them to the train and eellling them to Charlie Crowder for ten cents each. "Game was plentiful in dem days,""he said, "an' I never had any trouble catchin* dem birds. "No'm, our houses wasn't nothin' to brag about. Dey was built |of hewn logs an' had slab floors, havin1 two rooms an' a shed cook room. Pe beds was lak tables, wid four legs nailed on to de sides an' den corded |over de top wid ropes dat was tightened wid a big key. Us had shuck stresses to sleep on. "Us cooked on a great big fireplace. I 'members dat dere was plenty of meat in de winter, 'case 01' Marster used to kill as many as pirty hogs at a time. Us had meat an' bread an' hdme-made light bread an1 white folks was mighty kind$1W"lB». I 'members us was carried to Sun- ay School every Sunday at 3 o'clock in de evenin'. 0l» Mistus'd teach pie lesson. De white chilluns had dere Sunday School at 9 o'clock in mornin.' Alabama ' — 2 - •I allus went to Sunday School, but on de week days us little niggers would slip off an* go huntin1 when we could,* -Jim recalls that "de little niggers" ate from tin plates on the plantation; but declared he didn't mind that because the food was always good. "Yes'm, us had purty good clothes. Dey was dyed brown wid walnut leave8 an' hazelnut bush, an' on Sunday us had striped gingham pants an1 shoes. My father was de shoemaker an* had a gov'mint tan yard whar he [would make ol' hard brogans fer $8 a pair. "My marster an' Hiatus was Steven an1 'Idzbeth Wilson. Dey fust [lived in a big log house, but den moved into a planked house. Dey had nine jchillun; Ann, Steven, William, Liza, ftamie, Eddie, Laura, Mary an* Li&zle. "I 'members lots 'bout Mistus 'Lizabeth, 'case she useter read de IBible to us niggers. She would talk to us 'bput de Good Book an' have I prayer meet in* wid us. "My dad useter look atter de fiel' hands. No'm, he war'nt no over- [seer, but 0l» Marster allus had confidence in him, "I 'members dat when dey would be a funeral, us'd sing; marchin' befo1 He body 'fore us'd get to de grave an' singin','Hark come de tune a dole- ful sound, my years a tender cry; a iivln' man come view de ground whar [you may shortly lie.' "Us frolics on Sattidy night was fine an' us'd dance 'twel mos' day. rater's brother would fiddle for us, an' at Christmas time us would have |8ix days to frolic. Us also had a big time at de cornshuckin's, an1 us'd poop an' holler an* sing mos' all night. De big niggers had plenty of [liquor de boss give 'urn. High tables was filled up wid corn an' de niggers ,0«ld shuck 'twel it was all done. H% aunt married up at de big house an' dey give her a big dance* ey had de fiddle and had a great big time. Dey jes1 jumped over de broom Alabama - 3 - to marry, so atter slavery*^de|-h^ to git married agin. HI acted as houseboy in slavery times. An1 all de little niggers did have lots of fum "When de slaves got allin*, I 'members dat Marster had W. Word an1 Dr. Dunwoody to come to see us. "I 'members, too, how de Yankees come to Spring Villa, 'bout eight miles from Opelika, an1 said to some mens, 'Halt1. De mens wouldn't stop so de Yankees throwed dey guns on dem. Two white ladies threw a white flag an' dey wouldn't shoot, but dey carried Mr* John Edwards to Spring Villa an' made a cross on his wrist: den turned him loose 'case his wife was rale sick. "When de Yankees come, us niggers twrried a cigar box wid de jewelry in it under a certain pine tree 'twel dey went on. "Atter de big war, I married Jane Davifs fust time}, den Carrie Cooper. Us had two chillun an1 one gran1 chile, Emanuel Trotter, ten year' old. "Yassu'm, Mr. Abraham Lincoln died a warrior for dis country. I 1 b'longs to de church, 'case if a man dies outter de Ark he is not saved, an' I wants to be saved." Washington Copy, ; 6/23/37. L. H. Alabama 10235 Levl D. Shelby, Jr., 15/ Tuscumbia, Alabama. TODAY'S POLKS DON'T ^•xH^a-4%,v ^'M-^u'*/)¦\i c«U£>. KNOW NOTHIN' Life as a child is not clear In the ninety-year old memory of Mary Ella Qrandberry, who lives In Sheffield, but she remembers that she did not have time to play as do children of today. "I don't know jes' how old I is," Mary Ella said, "but I knows dat I'm some' ers nigh ninety yars ol». I was borned In Bar- ton, Alabama. My father an' mother come from Richmond, Virginny. My mammy was name Margaret Keller an1 my pappy was Adam Keller. My five sisters was Martha, Sarah, Harriet, Emma an' Rosanna, an' my three brothers was Peter, Adam, Jr., an' William. "Us all live in a 11'1 two-room log cabin jes* off the Big House. Life wan't ver' much for us, 'caze we had to work an1 slave all de time. Massa Jim's house was a little ol1 frame bull- din' lack a ord'nary house is now. He was a single man an' didn't hab so terr'ble much, it seem. He had a whole lot, too, but jes' to look at him you'd thank he was a po' white man. Dere was a lot o* cabins for de slaves, but dey wasn't fitten for nobody to lib in. We jes' had to put up wld 'em. "I don' 'member much about when I was a chil'. I dlsremembers ever playin' lack chilluns do today. Ever since I kin 'member I had a water bucket on my arm totin' water to de nan's. Iffen I wan't doin' dat, I was choppin' cotton. Chilluns nowadays sees a good time to w*at we did den. Ever' mornin' jes' 'bout hip of day de oberseer was 'roun' to see dat we was ready to git to de fiel's. Plenty times us had to go widouten breakf as', ' caze we dldn' git up in time to git it 'fo' de man done come to git us on de way to de fiel'. Us wukked 'twell dinner time jes' de same before we got anythang to eat. Alabama - 2 - 158 "De food we et was fix jes* lack hit is now. My mammy fixed our grub at home. De on'y dlffe'nce 'tween den an' now was us dldn1 git nothin' but common things den. Us didn1 know what hit was to git biscuits for breakfas' ever' mornin'. It was cornbread 'twell on Sundays den us'd git fo' biscuits apiece. Us got fat back mos' ever' mornin1. Sometimes us mought git a chicken for dinner on a Sunday or some day lack Chris1 mas. It was mighty seldom us gits anythin' lack dat, dough. We lacked possums an' rabbits but dey didn' come twell Winter time when some of de men folks'd run 'crost one in de fiel*. Dey never had no chanst to git out an' hunt none. "Dere was no sech thang as havin' diffe'nt clo's for winter an' Summer. Us wore de same thang in summertime as in de winter- time. De same s?as true 'bout shoes. Us wore brogans from one yeah to de yuther. "My 01' Massa was a putty good man but nothin• exter. One thang 'bout him, he wouldn' 'low none of de oberseers to whup none i of us, lessen he was dar to see hit done. (Jood thang he was lack / dat, too, 'caze he sabed de blacks a many a lick what dey'd got iffen he hadn' been dar. Massa Jim was a bach'lor, an' he ain't never had much truck wid women folks. Iffen he had any chilluns, I never knowed nothin' 'bout 'em. "De oberseers was terrible hard on us. Dey'd ride up an' down da fiel' an' haste you so twell you near 'bout fell out. Sometimes an' most inginer'ly ever' time you 'hin' de crowd you got a good lickin' wid de bull whup dat de driver had in de saddle wid him. I hearn mammy say dat one day dey whupped po» Leah twell she fall out like she was daid. Den dey rubbed salt an* pepper on de blisters to make 'em burn real good. She was so so' 'twell she oouldn' lay on her back nights, an' she jes' couldn' stan' for no clo's to t«Ch Alabama - 3 - -f 59 back whatsomever. "Massa Jim had *bout one of de bigges' plantations in dat section. I guess he had nigh onto a hun* erd blacks on de place* I never knowed 'zackly how many thar was nor how big de place was. "De folks now'days is allus complainin' »bout how dey is havin* sech hard times, but dey jes* don* know nothin*. Dey should hab come up when I did an' dey'd see now"dey is libin' Jes1 lack kings an' queens. Dey don' have to git up »fo» day when hit's so dark you kin jes1 see your han*s 'fo* your eyes. Dey don1 know what it' s lack to have to keep up wid de leader. You know dey was allus somebody what could wuk faster dan de res' of de folks an* die fellow was allus de leader, an1 ever*body else was a'pose to keep up wid him or her whatsomever hit was. Iffen you didn' keep up wid de leader you got a good thrashing when you gits home at night. Hit was allus good dark when de han*e got in from de fiel1. Co'se iffen dar was a lady what had a baby at home, she could leave jes' a little 'fo* de sun sot. "\ i "Younguns now'days don' know what it is to be punish'; dey thank iffen dey gits a li'l whuppln* from dey mammy now dat dey is punish1 terrible. Dey should of had to follow de leader for one day an' see how dey'd be punish* iffen dey gits too far behin'. De bigges1 thang dat us was punish* for was not keepin' up. Dey'd whup us iffen we was caught talkin* *bout de free states, too* \ Iffen you wan't whupped, you was put in de 'nigger box' an' fed cornbread what was made wldouten salt an' wid plain water. De box was jes* big 'nough for you to stan* up in, but hit had air holes ) in hit to keep you from suf focatin* • Dere was plenty turnin* -- 'roun' room in hit to *low you to change your position ever* oncet in a while. Iffen you had done a bigger »nough thang you was kep' Alabama - 4 - 160 in de •nigger box* for months at de time, an' when you got out you was nothln' but skin an1 bones an1 sourcely able to walk. ••Half de time a slave dicta1 know dat he was sol' • twell de massa1 d call him to de Big House an1 tell him he had a new massa from den on. Ever* time dat one was sol' de res* of 'ern'd say, *I hopes nex' time'11 be me.1 Dey thought you'd git a chanst to run away to de free states. I hearn my mammy say dat when she come from Virginny dat she come on a boat built outten logs. She say she never was so sick in all her life. I seed a 'hole wagon load of slaves come through our farm one day what was on dere way to Arkansas. Dey was de mos1 I ever seed travel at de same time. "De white folks dldn»t 'low us to even look at a book. Dey would scol' an1 sometimes whup us iffen dey caught us wld our head in a book. Dat is one thang I sho'ly did want to do an' dat was to learn to read an1 write. Massa Jim promised to teach us to ) / read an* write, but he neber had de time. "Dere wan't but one chu'ch on de place what I lived on, an* de colored and de white both went to hit. You know we was neber 'lowed to go to chu'ch widoutten some of de white folks wid us. We wan't even 'lowed to talk wid nobody from anudder farm. Iffen you did, you j got one of de wus' whuppin's of your life. Atter freedom Massa Jim tol' us dat dey was 'fraid we'd git together an' try to run away to de No'th, an' dat dat was w'y dey didn' wan' us gittin1 together talkln'. "A few years 'fo' de war my pappy learnt to read de Bible. (Mary Ella apparently forgot her previous comment on penalties for learning to read). Whenever we would go to chu'ch he would read to us an' we'd sing. 'Bout de mos' two pop'lar songs dey sungrwas "Steal Away an' I Wonder Whar Good 01' Dan'el Was. Steal Away is seoh a pop'lar song what ever'body knows hit. De yuther one is done Alabama - 5 - 161 mought' nigh played out, so I'll sing hit for you. It goes lack dis: / "I wonder whar was good ol' Dan'el, / l I wonder whar was good ol« Dan'el, I wonder whar was thankin' (thinking) Peter, I wonder whar was thankin* Peter. (Chorus) I'm goln' away, goln' away. I'm goln' away, goln' away, \ I wonder whar was weepin* Mary, I wonder whar was weepin* Mary, I'm goin' away, I'm goin' away, I'm goin' away to live forever, _ I'11 never turn back no mo'. "De slaves would git tired of de way dey was treated an' try to run away to de No'th. I had a cousin to run away one time. Him an' anudder fellow had got 'way up in Virginny 'fo» Massa Jim foun' out whar dey was.v»oon &s Massa Jim foun' de whar'bouts of George he went atter him. When Massa Jim gits to George an' • em, George per- tended lack he dldn' know Massa Jim. Massa Jim as: him, "George don't you know me?' George he say. 'I neber seed you 'fo» in my life.* Den dey as' George an' 'em whar did dey come from. George an' dls yuther fellow look up in de sky an' say, 'I come from above, whar all Is love.' Iffen dey had owned dey knowed Massa Jim he could have brung »em back home. My pappy tried to git away de same time as George an' dem did, but he couldn' see how to take all us chlllun wld him, so he had to stay wld us. De blacks an' de whites would have de terr'bles' battles sometimes. Dat would be when de blacks would slip off to de No'th an' was caught an' brung back. De paterollers'd ketch de colored folks an' lock 'em up Alabama - 6 - ±32 twell de owner come atter •em. "Iffen a slave was ootched out after nine o'clock he was whupped. Dey didn' 'low*nobody out atter it was dark 'lessen he had a pass from de Massa. One night, 'fo' George an' dis fellow (I dlsremembers his name, but I thinks it was Ezra) runned away, George tried to git over to de bunk whar he lived an' one of de oberseers seen him an' dey put him in de 'nigger box' for three weeks/^ Jes' as soon as he got out again, George an' dis Ezra slipped off. Dey had a sign dat dey would give each yuther eve'y night atter sundown. George would hang de lantern in de window, an' den he would take it outen de window an* hang it raght back in dar ag'in. I couldn't never make no sense outen it. I axed him one day whut he was adoin' dat for. He say dat 'fo' long I'd know 'zackly what it all about. Dis was de sign of how long dey have to wait 'fo1 dey try to git away. "Atter de day's work was over, de slaves didn't have nothln' to do but go to bed. In fac», dey didn't feel lack doln' nothln' else. On Satiday dey sot up an' washed so's dey could have some clean clothes to wear de comin' week. We wukked all day, ever' day •cep'n some Sat'days, we had a half day off den. Us didn1 git many an1 on'y when us as' for 'em. On Sundays us Jes' laid 'roun1 'mos' all day. Us didn't git no pleasure out-ten goin1 to church, 'oaze we warn't 'lowed to say nothin'. Sometimes even on Christ'mas us didn't git no res'. I 'members on one Chris'mae us had to build a lime kiln. When us git a holiday us rested. Iffen dere was a weddin' or a funeral on our plantation us went. Odderways we don't go nowhar. "De war come when I was a big gal. I 'member dat my uncle an' cousin Jlned in wid de Yankees to hope fight for de freedom. De Yankees come to our place an' runned Massa Jim away an' tuk de : house for a horsepittil. Dey tuk all of Massa Jim's clothes an' J Alabama - 7 - 163 gived.dem to some of dere frien's. Dey burned up all de cotton, hay, peas an1 ever1thing dat was in de barns. Dey made de white folks cook for de colored an1 den serve 'em while dey et. De Yankees made 'em do for us lak we done for dem. Dey showed de white folks what it was to work for somebody else. Dey stayed on our place for de longes'. When dey did leave, dere warn't a mouth- ful to eat in de house. When de war was over, Massa Jim told us dat we had to find soia'ers else to live. Co'se some of my folks had already gone when he come home. Us if Massa* Jim' s an' moved to anudder farm. We got pay for de wuk what we did on dis yuther place. Raght atter de war de Ku Klux got atter de colored folks. Dey would come to our houses an' scare us mos' to death. Dey would take some of de niggers out an1 whup » em an1 dose dat dey didn't whup dey tied up by dere fingers an1 toes. Dese Ku Klux would come to our windows at night an* say; 'Your time ain't long acomin'.• De Ku Klux got so bad dat dey would even git us in de daytime. Dey tuk some of de niggers an' throwed 'em in de river to drown. Dey kep* dis up *twell some folks from de North come down an' put a stop to it. nI ma'led Nelson Granberry, De weddift' was private. I don't have no chiiluns, but my husban1 got f o». I haven't heered from any of •em in a long time now. I guess dey all daid. "Abe Lincoln was de bes' president dat dis country eber had. Iffen it hadn't been for him we'd still be slaves raght now. I don't think so much of Jeff Davis 'caze he tried to keep us slaves. Booker T. Washington was one of de greates' niggers dat ever lived, he always tried to raise de standard of de race. "I Joined the church 'caze de Bible says dat all people should join de church an' be Christians. Jesus Christ set up de church an' Alabama - 8 - said dat ever'body what wanted to be saved to come unto him. Sin is de cause of de world beln1 in de fix dat it's in today. De only way to fight sin is to git together. Iffen we can do away wid sin raght now, de world would be a paradise. In de church we learn de will of God an8 what he would have us do. "Dere was no po1 white trash in our 'munity; 4fe- dey was kep* back in de mountains." Wash. Copy R.L.D. 6-9-37 Alabama J.\.":i!.6 Ila B. Prine Woodrow Hand US CHILLUN WORE SHOES LIKE GROWNUPS "Aunt" Esther Green, of 554 Texas Street, Mobile, Alabama, was all too ready to talk about her slavery days in spite of her assertion that she didn't remember much about the war, "I was Jus1 a chile,H she says* HYou can figure for yourself. Somebody tole me I was born in 1855, so I couldn't of been very old. I was born in State Line, Mississipoi, and was owned by Edward Dairs* He owned my mother, Rachael Davis and her mother, 165 Belinda Davis. I never did know who my pappy was f cause I never did see him. HTo de bes1 of my recollections, my whitefoiks was allus good to us niggers. He neber allowed no overseers and he never whipped none of dem, fceptinf maybe a switching once in a while for us littl'luns when we didnft behave. I never saw a growed up nigger whipped in all my life. Ole Massa Jus1 didn!t b*lieve in dat* Fpssa was shorely a good man. Lots of times he would get us little niters up on de porch at de big house and have us dance for him. -e sho used to have a big time out on dem big white porches. 111 never had no work to do myself, •cause I always stayed in de big house wid Miss Mary Davis, ole Massa1 s wife. I was in de house one day and ole Massa asked me if I wanted to eat at de table ?id riem, so I pulled up a chair and spite of de fsct dere was all *lnds of good stuff to eat in front of me, I called fpr lye h6mlny» 1 she did love dat stuff better1n anything else I ever et. Ole ••?ssa and de res1 of dem jus1 laugh fit to kill. I reckon dey tnovurht I was crazy sho1 nufff, but I et hominy jes1 de same. "As to de number of slaves ole Massa had, I never knew. Us raa i0g cabins to stay in. De cracks was chinked up wid yellow Alabama - 2 - 166 mud to keep de cold out and de chimfney was made of straw and de same kind of mud, but dem cabins was warmer dan de house is nowadays* We didn*t have no furniture ' ceptin1 a home-made bed which was nailed to de wall on one side and two legs out in de middle of de floor. De mattresses was made of straw and hay. Allr de cookin1 was done on de Dig open fireplaces what had big potracks to hang de pots on. "Massa rationed out de food every week and we usually got a peck of meal. We had plenty of ftaters and peas and other vegetables dat we growed on de place. At Christmas time^ we was give me^t_sun^ r.classes to make cakes. Us always had plenty of plain food. And too, de men would go hunt in1 at night and come back wid lots of big fat 'possums and rabbits by de dozen, and mos! of de time, dey would even c'tch a coon. And old Ben, a nigger who had turkey traps, was always ^ringin1 in lots of dem big fat birds. lfDe men and women worked in de field all day, but I never picked a hit of cotton all my life. At night de women would spin and weave cloth, but I never did learn to do dat. ^en dey would dye de cloth different colors, mostly red and blue though, and make dem into clothes. Us chilluns had a one-piece dress or slip* Our shoes was -11 homemade too. Massa had one man who tanned de lea ther# He -•¦Id take it and put it into a long trough for a long time and den whatever was done dat was supposed to be done to it, he would take it out and cut it and make shoes. Us chilluns1 had shoes same as cie .-Town folks. f,0n Sundays, we would go to de white folks church. Dere was ? "red built onto de church and we would sit on benches out under de —^ nnd listen to de preacher. De white folks would have lots of ;ir haptizings, but I never did see no niggers baptized den. !,01e Massa had a big fambly, three boys and six girls. My own Alabama - 3 - i6*7 ma had eight chilluns* Us was always healthy and never had to have much medicine. ^fBout de only thing I remembers ever takin1 was tea made from de root of de china berry tree* It made good tea for - verms, but was to be used only at certain times of de moon* My man also used Jerusalem Oak seed for worms? I never fools wid tryin1 to doctor nobody's chilluns now-a-days, things is all so different.s MMy Orandma, Mellnda, and ole Ben and his wife was three ole people Massa freed long time before de war. When all de niggers y'ps freed, Massa called em up to de house and tole dem dat dey was loose to go wherever suited dem, but mos1 of dem stayed on de place two or three weeks, and den one mornin1 I woke up and s 11 of dem ad left durin1 de night* I was de only nigger left on de place and I jus1 cried and cried, mostly because I was Jus1 lonesome for some of my own kind to laugh and talk wid# 111 don1 remember exactly what I did after de Surrender, but it ^s about four years afterwards dat I come to Mobile and I been rere every since* },Ifs a member oir de Mobile Delaware Baptist Church, but I can't attend very regular !count of bein1 all crippled up wid de rheumatisms. I reckon dat ailing is natural though, cause I been '-er- a long time and I!s got forty grandchilluns and more dan dat 'rr\y areat-grandchilluns, w ¦¦¦? Alabama Ruby Pickens Tartt, i B8 Livingston, Alabama. A CONJU* WHAT DIDN' WUK. "Yessum, dem niggers sho8 was scared when ole Buck showed up in de fiel,,H Jake Green, former slave, laughed with a vigor that denied his eighty-five years as he described "a conju* what didn* wuk." Jake has a vivid memory of those days before the Civil War, though he was only a small boy when it started. "Me an' my mother an' father b'longed to old man Lam Whitehead Jes* a few miles from Coatopa, 'bout ten miles east of Livingston, Ala- bama, " he began,hie g "My mother was Molly Whitehead, ¦$ father was Dan Whitehead. I don't know nothin' 'bout my granmammy an' , .¦¦*¦¦ gran*pappy, but I had a heap of unki#s»* "Mr. Whitehead owned Dirtin Ferry down to Belmont, an' dey had a darkey dere named Dick what claim sick all de time. So de Maffsafiman said, 'Dick, dam it, go to de house. I can't get no work outten you.' So Dick went on. He was a fiddler so dey Jes' tuck his vittuls to him for seven years. Den one day, Old Massa say to de overseer man, 'Let's slip up dere an' see what Dick doin'. So dey did, an' dere sot Dick, fat as he could be a-playin* de fiddle an1 a-singin', 'Fool my Massa seben years. Gwiner fool him seben mo'. Hey diddle, de diddle, de diddle, de do'.' "'Bout dat time Ole Massa poked his head in de do* said 'Dam iff en you *ill. Come on outten dere, you black rascal, an' go to work,'An' I ain't never hyard of Dick complainin' no mo*. "But dey wan*t so mean. Sometimes us got whupped but Massa had fo' men he didn't 'low nobody to hit, white er black. Dey was Unker Arc^, he was de main carriage driver; my father, he was de house sar- vant; linker Julius, de fo'man of de plow nan's an' Unker Ed'erds, de fo*- man of de hoe nan's. Whenever anybody wanted to hire anybody to work f°r 'em, de Massa send dem fo' out an' hire 'em by de day to chop cotton Alabama - 2 - 169 or pick. An' dem fo* niggers could chop much cotton in a day as de mule could plow. Wnenever dey'd stop de plow at twelve o'clock, dem niggers was right dere to lay de hoe handles on de plow, an' dat's choppin'. All four could pick a bale of cotton a day. Whenever any- body say, 'Mr. Whitehead, I want a bale of cotton picked today,' he'd send dem fo' men an' dey could pick five hundred pounds apiece an1 leave de sun still runnin'. Dey was pickers in dem days! "Cose dey had to begin, an' all us got up 'fo* day. Twan't nothin1 strenge to be standin' in de fiel' by your plow waitin* for de sun to come up. Ev'body was early risers in dem days. Dey was pretty good to us, but ole %. Buck Brasefiel', what had a plantation 'jinin' us'n, was so mean to his'a dat twan't nothin* for 'em to run away. °ne nigger Rich barker, runned off one time an' whilst he gone he seed a hoodoo man, so when he got back Mr. Brasefiel' tuck sick an1 stayed sick two or three weeks. Some of de darkies tole hirn, 'Rich been to de hoodoo doc- tor.' So Mr. Brasefiel' got up outten dat bed an' come a-yellin* in de fiel', 'You thought you had ole Buck, but by God he rose agin'. Dem niggers was so skeered, dey squatted in de fiel' Jes* lack partridges, en' some of 'em whispered, 'I wish to God he had a-died.' "'^wan't long atter dat come S*render, but dat nigger done lef' tare, an' didn't nobody know whar Parker was at. Some of de niggers Gone bought an' paid for dey mule an* me an' Pappy was rentin' an' ^-tWrln1 on sneers, when here come Parker, jes' hyared 'bout S'render. Re say 'Why didn't somebody come tell me 'twas S*render?' Den he start a-sino-in* 'Slav'y chain, slav'v chain. 'I'hank God almighty I^m free at las', Free at las', free a$ las'. Thank G0d a'mighty I m free at las'.' "But dat wan't none of Old Massa's niggers. He had one, do' call Alabama - 3 - t~n 1.7 him John, an' hit come a traveler an' stayed all night. Oie Massa p'inted out John, an* said, 'He ain't never tole me a lie in his life. De traveler bet Massa a hund'ed dollars *glnst fo' bits he'd ketch Joan in a lie 'fo* he lef. Next mawnin' at de table de mice was pretty- bad, so de traveler caught one by de tail an1 put him Inside a kiver-lid dish what was settin* dere on de table, an' he tole Oie Massa tell John ne could eat sumpin' out of ev'y dish atter dey got th'oo but dat klver- lid one, an' not to take kiver off en hit. An1 John said, 'Nossuh, I won't. But John jes' nachully had to see what was in dat dish, so he raise de lid, an1 out hopped de mouse. Den hyar come Old Massa an' axed John if fen he done what he tole him not to do, an' John 'nied hit. Jen de traveler look in de dish an' de mouse wan't dere, an* he said, 'See dere, John been lyin' to you all de time, you Jes' ain't knowed nit, an1 I reckon he right 'caze us had to lie." Washington Copy, 8/2/37. L» K. Alabama R.P. Tartt, Jack Kytle I KNOWS I'S EIGHTY FIVE BUT ' l ' SPEQTS I'S MORE DEN BAT Charity Grigsby lives in a tumbledown shgnty about nine miles from Livingston on the old Epes road. She was sewing on a quilt when I arrived; humming an old plantation song that ran: Angels in de water, walkin' by de light; Po' sinners stand in darkness an' cannot see de lightI A broad smile flowed across her black face as I entered the cabin. She placed her needle aside, exclaimed: "Law me, honey, I's always proud when de white folks drap aroun1; an' dat's directly so." "Charity," I said, "I want you to tell me about slavery times" She lowered her head in thought a moment, said: "Honey, what would I tell?" "Just all you remember, Charity." And this is what she told: "Honey, I was borned Charity G-rigsby, but I married Nelson Orieory; ain't much 'stinguish in de names; but 'twuz a little. My pappy was Dan'l Grigsby an* my mammy was Mary Moore. See, us be- longed to 01' Mister Jim Moore right up yonder 'boye Sumte£vi;lle ne-,r Ransey Station. "You goes up de Gainesville an' Livingston Road an' turns off -t -le cross road 'bout nine miles from Livingston. Den you goes cue west. It ain't far from dere; bout six miles, I reckons. 'TTsn't no big plantation; 'bout a dozen of us dere; an' Marse Jim cion't have no overseer lak de rest. He had dent boys of his'n what seeo to us. Dey was John an' William an' Jim. Dey was all tol'able yjood to us; but dey would whoop us if we wasn't 'bedient; jes' like Alabama - 2 - a mother raisin' a while. "I can't say how old I is; it's done got away from me; but I was a stroppin' gal durin' de war. I knows I's eighty-five an' I 'spects I's more dan dat. I's de mammy of 'leven ohilluns; I knows dat; but ain't but five of dem a.-livin'. As you knows, I lives wid two of dem; Mattie an1 Evie. Dey treats me good. Hattie an' Ellen an* my boy lives in Bessemer. Dat is all my individual chilluns, but Is got a few others. I dan't recollect much to tell; been a good v/hile since de war; but when you calls it to my 'memberance I can think it up. "Honey, dem nigger dogs; dey sho' did run. Sometimes dey kotched a nigger, but dey didn't never run me. I was in de house weaving an' spinnin' lak mistus showed me; an' I didn't never get in no trouble wid nobody. "An' den again, Marse Jim was purty tol'able good to us, but ':.>. Ervin Lavendar was sho' mean to his niggers, an' his plantation n^rn.'t far from our'n. He had a pack of dogs what run de niggers; sii' dem was skeery times, I tell you. Us didn't 1'arn no schoolin' nor 20 nowhere nor have no corn shuckin' nor nothin•; jes' 'quired to stay in de cabins. I hyared 'bout Bre'r Rabbit an' hoodoo; but I never takes up no time wid dat foolishness; never seed no sense in it. Us got on all right 'thout dat. "Some of de other niggers 'sides me was all de time in trouble, £ou^h. :£r*. Fulton, who lived clost to Mr. Lavender, had a nigger- srivt-r* an1 overseer name Sanders, an' I bet he was de meanest one of -or sii. you know, honey, dey planted wheat fields in de fall in dem ^eys an' cut it in de spring. It would come off in time 'nuff to -ake corn. "Sere was a flock of binds lak blackbirds; only dey was wheat Alabama - 3 - birds; an' dey went in droves an' fly way up yonder, tfs had planks to slap together to keep de birds out er de wheat, because dey et it up. "Well'm, one day Mr. Sanders tol' one of de women what was one of de sucklers on de place, dat if she wouldn't do what he axed her to dey was a black coffin over her haid. She 'fused him; so when he was loadin' his gun dere in de wheat fiel1, he was holdin' de gun barrel propped under his chin, jes' so, and de other end settin' on de ground. Well sir, it went off an' he killed hisse'f stid of oat sucklin' woman; an' dat was a awful time, •ca'se de niggers ¦rot skeered an' run, an* dey sot Mr. Lavendar's pack of nigger dogs on '£m. De dogs kotched some an' chewed 'em nigh 'bout to death. It warn' none of us, but it were close. "Us laid low, didn't go out nowhere./ Us wasn't 'lowed to; couldn't go to prayer meetin' or nothin'. MYou ax what dat song I singin' when you come? Dat wasjall of it, an' dat's 'nuff fer me, 'ca'se It's true. What dey gwine to be no mo' fer? Jes': Angels in de water, walkin' by de light; Po» sinners stan' in darkness an' cannot see de light. I don' want no mo' myse'f; jes' dat; dat's all. How come you vrF-nts some mo'? Don't dat much satisfy you? But honey, de sun *;ettin» low an' my chilluns will soon be comin' from de swamps. Ain't no bread cooked fer 'em. I'll tell you some mo' when I gets my mind °n it, 'ca'se it's been a good while since de war. "Yas'm, us has 'nuff to eat; but if us could get anymore, us *ould lak it. You know how 'tis; can make out wid mighty little. L's ev-ts greens; lookin' forwards "jgo roas'in years comin' in." ?-L.D. 7-12-37 Alabama 10238 Marv A» ^°ole, Mobile John Morgan Smith •Sp SH0« I BELIEVES IN ^ SPIRITS, *"....."*~ SPIRITS, SAYS CHARLES "Mistis," said Charles Hayes from his porch in Maysville, near Llobile, Alabama, "I was a little bitty nigger when de war broke out, an1 I belonged to Massa Ben Duncan who lived at Day's Landin1 on de Alabamy Bibber* ?'Marse Benfs house was de regulation plantation wid slave quarters• Most of de things us used was made raght dere on de plantation, sich as: beds, buckets, tools, soap, brogans, breeches, ?.x\x chairs. Our mattresses was either made outen oornshucks or cotton bolls. Us cooked on an open fireplace, an1 eve'y Sadday night us would go to de big house for supplies? Marse Ben was good to his slaves an1 he f lowed dera to have a little plot of groun1 nex1 to de cabins whar dey could raise dere own little crop# 4 "My mammy was a fiel1 han* an1 my pappy was a mechanic an1 he use to be de handy man aroun1 de big house, makin1 eve1 thing ffum churns an1 buckets to wagon wheels* My pappy also useta play de fiddle for de white folks dances in de big house, an1 he played it Tor de colored frolics too. He sho -could make dat thing sing. "Us useta have all sorts of cures for de sick people, ffrinstance, us used de Jerusalem weed cooked wid molasses into a candy for to give to de chilluns to git rid of worms. Den usfd bile de root an* make " kinda tea for de stomach worms. You know de kinds dat little pup-oies an1 little chilluns has dat eats all de food dat goes in to ue stomach, an1 makes de chile or dog eat plenty but don't git no ^nefits ffum all dey're eatin1. Horehound, dat growed v/ild in 2l?. rke County, was used for colds* Mullen tea was used for colds -°n' swollen J'ints* Den dere was de life everlastin1 tea dat was Alabama - 2 - also good for colds and horse mint tea dat was good for de chills an' fevers. Co'se, Mistis, us niggers had a regular fambly doctah dat 'tended to us when we was sho 'nough down raght sick, but dese remedies I's tellin1 you 'bout us used when warn't nothin' much ailin1 us. It was always to de owner's interest, Mistis, to have de niggers in a good, healthy condition. "Does I believe In spirits, you; says? Sho I does. When Christ walked on de water, de Apostles was skeered he was a spirit, but Jesus told dem dat he warn't no spirit, dat he was as 'live as dey wos.. He tol' 'em dat spirits couldn't be teched, dat dey jus' nelted when you tried to. So, Mistis, Jesus musta meant dat dere v-ps sich a thing as spirits. "Atter de war my pappy an' mammy stayed on de Duncan plantation an' worked on share crops. Dere was a school on de groun's for us slave chilluns, an' my gran'mammy, Salina Duncan, taught de bible, fcafse she was f fum Virginny an1 had "been learnt to read an1 write by her Mistis up dere. HMy fus1 wife was named Alice Bush, an1 us had ten chilluns; :vy second one was named Caroline Turner an1 us didn't have but eight. Both my ole womens is daid now, white folks^an1 I stays here wid one of my daughters. You see, my eyesight is almos1 gone due to one i y v/heri I was a workin1 in de forge, a hot piece of iron flew up an1 landed in my eye. •Twarn't long befo1 It started to hurtin1 in my udder eye. Now both is fbout to give out." >>'' oh. Copy 0-P5-37 Alabama \^J^mX^ Gertha e0uric v Demps A. Odejr kUv/° TSE STOMY OF AUNT LIZZIE HILL /W Aunt Lizzie Hill, 94 years of age, moved from the Spurloel: rdantation, four miles out, to the city of Eufaula about 20 years ot?*Q. She was of such vigorous constitution, that until recently, she carried on her regular occupation of laundress or 'Vash—Toman,* 8s she calls herself• Too feeble to work regularly, she now is c^red for by a niece with whom she lives . Sitting before the fire in a rocking-chair, smoking a clay pipe - her neat clothing, snow-white hair and wrinkled, kindly face -na^e a pleasing picture of contentment . Her mind is, apparently, unimpaired, zn£ she readily responds to her recollections of slavery *8ho, Missey, I fmembers fbout itJ I was most grown when free* ;o:n come* My Marster (Richard Cozier) afnd my Mistis was good to ^11 dey niggers and dey raised me right.f I had two little mistises ?"bout as old as me, and I played wid dem all de time and slep1 on a ~*llet in'dey room evfy night. Dey slepf on *e big bed. My clothes v:r Jes1 as good and clean as deyrn, and I et what dey et** -i-he little girls, she explained, were about six and eight years "M /hen this association began, and it continued until close of the '-<¦' v,t vtfien all were nearly grown? ) J "Uter freedom come," continued Aunt Lizzie* *Memmy moved to .-t>bert and tuk me erway fum>eld Mistis; but I runned srmay and v-3.it back to Mistis, and walked all de fourteen miles down de big ^o-l at night - I runned most ob de way. Xhree times I done dat, v,,Jt "lammy come and tuk me back to work in- de field evfy time. I v^t3d to stay wid Old Mistis? Dey called her fMiss Everlinaf and 177 Alabama ¦* 2 * ' • > ev'ybody liked her. Bofe my little mistises got maifed and den Old Marster and Old Mistis moved off to Texas, and'I ain't eber see'? none ob fem no more* Ifs had a hard time workin* in de field since de war, Fof freedom come, I nebber worked cepfn in de.house - I was a fhouse-girlf end didn't do no field, work** ;EPb# Copy / Alabama 10226 G-ertha Couric Susan Russell, Editor 178 ^ Gabe Was Kidnapped By Carpetbaggers Old Gabe had been long in this world - close to one hundred years. He had experienced much but one incident had out-lasted all the others - even the stroke that made him older and more feeble*. That experience had caused Gabe and his "ole woman" to stray far from the fold and to walk all the way back to its shelter. That was back in Reconstruction days, when he was not "bandy in his knees" and long before Anna left him alone in his cabin with just memories of earlier and happier days. Gabe was "birthed in Cusseta, Georgia," the son of two faithful old slaves, Hetty and Gabe Hines,-and they "all flonged to Marsa *, ' "Aunt Adeline, a tall, gaunt, bright-skinned Negro woman, lives on Frye St. Mobile, |la. ^he day I called she was nodding in a cane bottom rocking chair on a wide porch that extended across the front of a cottage almost hidden in a grove of giant oaks. She opened her eyes, which were covered by a pair of steel-rimmed glasses with one lens badly cracked. The news that a search was being made for old people who had lived during slavery days acted like an electric shock on the old woman, who immediately sat up straight and said: "Lor^,yes'111,1 libed in dose days, and I tells you I 'members all 'bout dem. Do come in and set down. Be fust white people I b'longed to was a man named Jones, who was a colonel in de war, but I can't tell you much 'bout dem, 'caze I was Jes' a li'l gal den. I was Jes' big 'nuff to tote water to de fiel' to de folksWukking and to min' de gaps in de fence to keep de cattle out when dey was gatherin' de crops. I don't 'spec' you knows anything 'bout dose kind of fences. Dey was built of rails and when dey was gatherin' de crops dey Jes1 tuk down one section of de fence, so de wagons could git through. "A'ter de war broke out ole Mister Jones went off to hit, and I 'members de day he lef. He come to de fiel' to tell all de han's goodbye, wld a big white plume on his hat. Cat was in Bnllvar County, Usaissiggij, A'ter ol' Mister Jones lef for de war, den de nigger, drivers an' oberseer begun to drive us 'round lack droves of cattle. Every time dey would hyar de Yankees was coming dey would take us out in de woods and hide us. ?!nally dey soldjjSljgjjber carrying us a*ay from Bolivar County. Some of us was sold to people in Demopolis, Alabama, an' Atlanta, Georgia, an1 some to folks In Meridian and Alabama - 2 - Shubuta, Mississippi, I don't any mere know whar my own folks went to dan you does, "I 'members afore leaving ole Mister Jones' place how dey " ^\ grabbed up all de chillun dat was too li'l to walk and put tin' us in /J**-* wagons. Den de older folks had to walk, and dey marched all day long. Den at night dey would strike camp, I has seen de young niggers what was liable to run away wid dere legs chained to a tree or de wagon wheels. Dey would rake up straw and throw a auilt ober hit and lie dat way all night, while us chillun slep' in de wagons, "When us come to de big river at Demopolis, Alabama, I 'members seeln' de big steamboats dere, and dey said dat de sojers was goln' away an dem. Hit was in Demopolis us was sold, and a man name Ned Collins of Shubuta, Mississippi, bought me. "Aunt" Adeline said that the houses' the slaves lived in on the Jones plantation were board houses, and that Mr, Jones owned a big plantation and lots of slaves. She said that they had home-made beds, nailed to the walls, with mattresses made out of shucks. After having been sold to Mr. Collins, of Shubuta, Mississippi, "Aunt" Adeline said that h-p* w^* very hardr not so much for herself, but she saw how hard the other slaves worked. She was the house girl and helped clean house, wash dishes, and take care of the children. After finishing that work, she had to spin thread. Each day she would have to spin so many cuts, and if she did not finish the required nunbf-r, she was punished. She said that her mistress kept the finished work on top of a larpe wardrobe, and "Aunt" Adeline said that many times she would steal a cut of thread off of that wardrobe to complete the day's task to keep from being punished. As she grew older she did have to go to the field and pick cot- Alabama . - 3 - ton. "Aunt" Adeline does not remember it pleasantly. She said: "I jes' hates to hab to weightanything today, 'caze I 'members so well dat each day dat de slaves was given a certain number of pounds of cotton to pick. When weighing up time come and you didn't ^•,¦«» IMIIMMMMtMu Mil IMI NMMinmMltM i|„WWU,|¦ I IB ll, hab de number of pounds set aside, you may be sho1 dat you was goin' to be whujjp^jL. But hit wasn't all bad times 'caze us did hab plenty to eat, 'specially at hog killin' time. Dey would hab days ob hog killin' and de slaves would bake dere bread and oome wid pots, pepper, and salt. A'ter cleanin1 de hogs, dey would gib us de livers and lights, and us would cook dem ober a fire out in de open and hit /^V"1 sho' was good eatin'. De usual 'lowance a week of pickied pork was six or seven pounds, and if fen you had a big family of chillun dey gib you more. Den dey gib you a peek of meal, sweet 'taters, sor- ghum syrup, and plenty of buttermilk. At/ Christmas times, dey gib you extra syrup to make cakes wid and sweet 'taters to make 'tater pone. And, Lor1, dey would hab bigcribs of. pun'kins. Hit makes me hongry to think 'bout dem good ol' pun'kin pies. "And did dey raise chickens? lou knows in Mississippi dat de minks was bad 'bout killin' dem. I 'members one time de minks got in de chicken house and killed nearly every chicken on de place. Ole Mister Jones had de cook to clean and cook dem, and he come out in £e fiel' an' eat wid dem to let de slaves know dat hit was all right. Den u<3 had dem good ol' cushaws and lye hominy, too. "De r>ir>tfrft.a. was made out oJ^JlQia&SILUn in one piece. I 'members I pllus had mine split up de side so I could git 'bout in a hurry. De voraen had pantalettes made and tied to dere knees to wear in de fields to keep de dew off dere legs. De shoes was made of cow hide 6nd was called red russets. De way dey got dem darker was to take a hoe- 'gristle' and hang up in de chimbley. When hi-fc git full of Alabama - 4 - soot, we rub de shoes wid dat. Den dey used de darker shoes for dere Sunday best. "You asked me about huntIn1? Lor', yes dey hunted in dem times. Up in dem swamps in Mississippi dere was bears as big as cows, and deers aplejaty. Dey bofe was bad about comin1 in de corn fiel's and tearin' down de corn. You could hyar dem at nights out in' de fiel's. Dey also caught plenty of possums and coons. "Of course, us got sick but dey had de doctor. In dose days de doctor would cup you and bleed you. I seen a many a person ^"^ xr^y cupped. De doctor had a li'l square lookin'-block of wood wid tiny li'l kiiiifes, attached to hit. On top was a trigger lack is on a gun, and de doctor would put de block of wood at de nape of dere neck an1 pull dat trigger. Den he hab a piece of cotton wid somepin' on hit to Btop de blood when he had cupped you long 'nough. Dey would allus gib us calamus (calomel) to clean us out, and den de nex' mawnin1 dey gib us a big bowl of gruel made out ob meal and milk. Den us'd be ell right. "De slaves warn't 'lowed to go to church, but dey would whisper 'roun' and all meet in de woods and pray. De only time I 'members my ray was one time when I was a li'l chile, he set me on a log by him fin' prayed, an' I knows dat was whar de seeds ob religion was planted in my min'. Today I's happy to tell folks 'bout Jesus and thank Him for His goodness to me. Hit won't be long twell I meet Him face to "ace and thank Him." SIBLICG-RAPHY: Personal Interview with "Aunt" Adeline Hodges, 3 Frye Street, Mobile, Alabama, lR. LB. P-23-37 Al«b ama *•:¦ t r-. rff * \A 1#< CAROLINE HOLLAND HAD MANY MASTERS. Mabel Parrior, Lois Lynn, John Morgan Smith, 85 "Yassuh, I wuz a slave," spoke Aunt Carry from her vine-shaded porch at No. 3 Sharpe Street, Montgomery, Alabama. "I wuz borned in 1849 on Mr. Will Wright's plantation on the Mt. Melgs road. Massa Will had a big slave house an* us niggers sho' use to have a good time playin' 'roun* down at de slave quarters. We had a row of houses two stories high, an1 dey wuz filled wid all sorts of niggers. When I wuz twelve year old, I wuz made nu'ss fer my mistis's little girl an1 at de fus1 I couldn't do nothin1 but rock de cradle. I didn't know how to hoi' de baby. Us niggers had gardeens ^guardians) dat look 'atter us lak dey did atter de hosses and cows and pigs. "One night atter we had all gone to bed I heered a noise at de window, an' when I look up dere wuz a man a climbin' in. He wuz a nigger. I could tell eben do I could scarce see him, I knowed he wuz a nigger. I could hear my mistis a breathin', an' de baby wuz soun1 asleep too. I started to yell out but I thought dat de nigger would M.11 us so I Jes1 kep' quiet. He come in de window, an' he see us a sleepin1 dere, an' all of a sudden I knowed who it wuz. 'Jade,' I whispers, 'What you a doin' here?' He come to my bed and put his rough ^an1 ober my mouf. "Listen you black pickaninny, you tell em dat you saw me here an' I'll kill you, 'he say,'I th'ow yo' hide to de snakes in de swamp. Now shet up. • "Wid dat he went to de dresser an1 taken mistis' money bag. Atter dat he went to de window an' climb down de ladder an' I didn't do nothin' but shake myself nearly to death fum fright. De nex1 day de Alabama - 2 - - 0.~ loo oberseer an' de pattyrollers went a searchin' th'ough de slave quarters an' dey foun' de money bag under Jade's cot. Dey tuk him an1 whupped him for near fifteen minutes. We could hear him holla way up at de big house. Jade, he neber got ober dat whuppin'. He died three days later. He wuz a good nigger, 'peer to me lak, an* de bes1 blacksmith in de whole county. I ke'pa-wonderin' whut made him want ter steal dat purse. Den J- foun' out later dat he wuz a goin' to pay a white man ter carry him ober de line to de No'thern States. Jade jus* had too big ideas fo' a nigger. I us'ta see Jade's ghos' a walkin' out in de garden in de moonlight; sometime he sit on de fence an' look at his ole cabin, den sometimes he stroll off down de cotton fiel'. When de Lawd git th'ough a punishin' him fo' a stealin' dat money, I guess he won't make us no mo' visits. He jus' go right on in heaben. Dat's what ghos'tes is, you know; peoples dat can't quite git in heaben, an' dey haclda stroll 'roun' little longer on de outside repentln'* "Soon atter dat my gardeen tuk me to Tallasee when de massa died, «-y gardeen wuz a good man. He wuz always a-makin' speeches fo' de slaves to stay under bondage till dey wuz twenty-one. One dey he wuz in front of a ato' talkin' 'bout de slaves an' a man come up to him an' said he don't like de way Capt. Clanton talk (dat wuz my gardeen's name). Capt. Clanton ask him whut he goin' ter do 'bout it an' de man tlii. U ut a pistol an' kil't de Cap'n raght dere on de spot. "Den I wuz sold to another man, a Mr. Williamson, 'bout de time •e war broke loose, an' Massa Williamson tuk me ober ter lib wid some -'O1 peoples. He said he had mo' slaves dan he could take keer of. Dis *uz de Abernathy plantation. While de massa wuz a standin' in de slave quarters a takin' to Mr. Abernathy, I noticed a boy wid a bad eye. I didn't lak him at all an' I tol' de massa I don't wanna stay, kaze I didn't lak de way dat boy Lum wid de bad eye looked at me. Den Mr. Alabama - 3 - 18" Abernathy brung up a boy 'bout sebenteen year old; a big strong lookln' boy named Jeff. He say 'Jeff, look out after Carry here. DonAt let her git into no trouble.' Fum dat time on till 'bout five year ago, Jeff he always look after me, kaze atter de war I ma'led him. Now I ain't got nobody but myself. Wash. Copy, 5/12/37. L, H. Alabama Preston Klein a- W «A_ \> < Dey Brung Whuppin's on Deyselves (Photo) Jane Holloway was ill. For weeks she had been in bed, and the untidy condition of her cabin brought profuse apologies when I entered, "Jane, do you remember me?" I asked. "I donft know, honey. I been sick so long wid de fluse I can't 'member much of anything,B she answered peering up at me from her pillow. Suddenly she smiled, Shucks. Co'se I 'mem- bers you, honey. Your daddy eho' was good to my boys. Watt worked for him so long. Res' yourself in dat cheer and I'll tell you all about myself and slavery times what I can recollect, "I'se all alone now 'ceppen for my grandson. He ain't but twelve and he can't hope much. But I guess I got no right to com- plain I guess I done got me plenty outa life. "I was borned up in North Alabama. My mammy was Carrie Hol- loway and my pappy was Traylor Holloway. I had a brother Maryland. Dere nebber was but de two of us. Us lived in a mud and log house, jes' one room but it sho* had a big fireplace. Us had a good old time den, effen us jes' had knowed it, *caze us was always fed sood. Dey had long wooden troughs what dey poured our bread and railk in and us eat it wid a wooden spoon. When dey yell, 'Chillun, chillunJ BreadJ • you bet we jes' burnt de wind getting dere, 'caze us was always hongryi HWe had high tester beds in all de houses, what was 'bout <-. mile from de Big House. It had four rooms and was all planked up, ¦>-r, Billy Taylor was mighty good to his niggers. He didn't have so raany slaves, he jes' had a little plantation. Our oberseer was Alabama - 2 - good, too. He had to whip some of dem sometimes, but dey wouldn't work. Dey brung it all on deyselves. "When de Yankees come enduring de war, de men come arunning and a screaming dat de Yankees coming. And dey did come on horseback and took all our provisions what was in de smokehouse. Dey took everything we had in de way of victuals and stock, too. "I J'ined de Church when I was ten years old, ' caze I was trying to live right and do what de Bible said. De white folks had deir services in de morning and in de evening would let us niggers have ourn." Jane forgot her misery long enough to come out to the porch of her comparatively comfortable cabin and she was Mplumb proud" to have her "pitcher took." R.L.D. 0-9-37 189 -bo "»o* <^2 ' A Of) Alabama U ;'-***) ~" Ha B. Prine, Mobile. ^n' John Morgan Smith, Editor. (See lOO-r?') DEY KEP' NISGERS IN aOOD CONDITION TO SELL, Standing in the middle of the road at Prichard, suburb of Mobile, and gesticulating while talking to a small group of interested liste- ners an old ^egro man ended his talk to the email gathering and punct- s uated his last sentence with a spat of tobacco./T^ ^-->vi ;- > / I "No'in," he continued after I had put in my appearance and asked him a question, "I doesn't know whether I was a slave, but Jus' de same I seed G-en'l Grant's army when it went th'ough Virginny. Jus' as sho1 as you is standin1 dar, lady, I seed dem mens all dressed in blue suits, a-iriarchin1 side by side, gwine down de road pas' our place. It tuk 'em three days to go by our house. "An1 I remembers when dem Yankees come to our ole Mistis' house an! take a ladder an' dumb up to de roof an* tear de boards outter de ceilin* to git dem big hams an' shoulders my white folks done had hid up dar. When de Yankees find dat stuff dey give it all to de niggers. Pen atter de 8d.lgers lef * ole Miss called us to her an1 tol' us we was free, but for us to give back some of de meat an' things dat de Yankees done give us, 'case she didn't have nothin* to eat'roun' de place. 'Course we was glad to do it, 'case Mistis sho1 was good to us. "I remembers ebery Sunday mawnin' dat she'd make de older slaves bring all de little niggers up to de big house, so she could read de Bible to *em, and den she give us plenty of dem good biscuits and taters iat 3usanne Cook for us. She'd say: 'G-it 'roun' dere, Susanne, and he'r. dem little niggers' plates.' I really thought Mistis was a angel* "Talkin' 'bout niggers beln1 free. Ole Miss tol' us was free, tot it was ten or twelve years atter de surrender befo' I knowed whut 8r-p meant. I was a big boy goin' to school befo' I had an understandin* Alabama - 2 - as to what she meant. "Ole Miss taught de niggers how to read an' write an1 some of 'em got to be too good at it, 'case dey learned how to write too many passes so's de pattyrollers wouldn't cotch 'em, an1 on dem 'ccasions was de onlyes times dat I ever seed one of our niggers punished. "Mistis never 'lowed no mistreatin' of de slaves, 'case dey was raisin' slaves for de market, an' it wouldn't be good bizness to mis- treat 'era. Lor' Miss, my white folks was rich; dey had as many as five or six hundred niggers; men women an' chilluns. De plantation was big, but I doesn't remember how many acres it was, but I does remember dat de cabins was all built in rows, an' dere was streets laid out among de cabins. De chimneys was built outten dirt an' sticks, an' you know up in Virginny it got powerful cold, so when dey built de cabins dey th'owed dirt up under 'em to keep de wind an' snow out. "I was bawn in Henry_C^unt£^.^ an* ^'s been to Vicksburg, an' Petersburg a many a time wid my pappy to de wheat 191 an i i bacca market. Lor', honey, Virginny is de bes' place on earth for good eatin' an' good white folks. If anybody tells you dat de white folks *as mean to dere niggers, dey neber come from Virginny, 'case us was too war de free states, an' I done already tol' you dat dey raised niggers to sell an' dey kep' 'em in good condition. In dose days white folks an* :< slack folks was black folks. Jus' lak Booker T. Washington was a riber j°etween de niggers of dis generation an' learnin'. He had all dat was we an' good, an* he give de bes' to his people iffen dey would take it. lD*t was de way wid de white folks den; dey didn't do no whuppin'. "I's de onlyes rat lef' in de pond, an' 'case I ain't hung in de |8ao>e house, folks thinks J?s not as old as I say I is, but chile, I 8 l^een here a long time. I 'members how black Sam useta preach to us an* Alabama - 5 - 192 when x growed up 1 useta think warnt nobody Christians cep'n us Babtists, but I know better now, an' de longer I lives de mo' I realizes dat de churches go 'way 'case dey leaves off de ordinances of G-od, although us has a Bible an' mo1 Christian readin' dan ever befo1. "My mammy's name was Eliza ^owlets an* my pappy's was Joseph Holmes. My pappy had de same name as de peoples dat owned hii an* my gran*mammy name was Lucy Holmes. Gran'mammy Holmes lived to be over a hundred years old, an1 she was de fust pusson I ever seed daid. In dem days it tuk three days to bury a pusson, *ease dey dug de graves as deep as de corpse was tall. "Land Bakes a-livin* us had great times, an' I forgot to tell you dat us had home-made beds wid two sides nailed to de wall an1 de mattres- ses was made outen wheat straw. "As for huntin1 I done plenty of it an* one thing 1 got to git forgiveness for was when 1 lef' Virginny, I lef' 'bout fifty or sixty snares set to cotch rabbits an' birds. "My mammy had eight chilluns an* we was raised in pairs. I had a sister who come along wid me, an* iffen I jumped in de river she done it too. An1 iffen I go th'ough a briar patch, here she come along too. 11Bout de fruit; it makes my mouth water to think about dem cheese apples, dat was yaller lak gold, an' dose Abraham apples, an* de cherry tree as big as dese oaks here. I s eaten many a big sugar and sweetheart cherry. But dere was another kind called de Gorilla dat growed as big as de yaller plums down dis way. Now let me tell you somp'n 'bout Virginny; 'Dey had dere laws 'bout drink. Dey had de bes* Peach an1 cherry brandy an* mos' any kin' you eber heared of, but dey didn't 'low you to make drink outten anything you could make bread wid; 8ich as corn or rye. Us had our brandy same as you would coffee, 'case *t was cold, an1 some mawnin's my pappy would git de brandy out an' Alabama - 4 - i 93 my mammy would putt a little water an' sugar wid it an1 gib it to us ehil- luns. Us neber thought nothin1 'bout drinkin*. I kinda believes lak dat ole infidel Ingersoll who said dat anything dat was a custom was dere re- ligion. "Now you axed about hog-killin' time? Dat was de time of times. ?or weeks de mens would hauH wood an' big rocks, an' pile 'em together as high as dis house, an' den have several piles, lak dat 'roun' a big hole In de groun' what had been filled wid water. Den Jus1 a little atter mid- night, de boss would blow de ole hawn, an' all de mens would git up an1 git in dem big pens. Den dey would sot dat pile of wood on fire an' den statt knockin' dem hogs in de haid. Us neber shot a hog lak us does now; us always used an axe to kill 'em wid. Atter knockin1 de hog in de haid, dey would tie a rope on his leg nan' atter de water got to de right heat, torn dose red-hot rocks de hog would be throwed in an' drug aroun' a while, ien taken out an1 cleaned. Atter he was cleaned he was cut up into sections an' hung up in de smoke house. Laweie, lady, dey don't cure meat dese [clays; dey jus1 uses some kind of liquid to bresh over it. We useta have [too' 'nuff meat. "Den come cawnshuckin* time. My goodness, I would Jus4 love to be far now. De cawn would be piled up high an1 one man would git on dat plle» ^ was usually a kinda nigger foreman who could sing an' git de work outten ie niggers. Dis fo'man would sing a verse somp'n lak dist "Polk and Clay went to war, Polk come back wid a broken jaw. Pen all de niggers would sing back at him wid a kinda shoutin' sound. Near pout all de times de fo'man made up his own songs, by pickin' dem outen at shuckin1? It war de Jug dat dey brung aroun1 eve'y hour. Dats de plyes time de slaves really got drunk. Alabama - 5 - 194 "In dem ole days I went to plenty of dances an* candy pullln's durin* de Yule season, but 1 doesn't do dat no mo'. I's a preacher an* when I fus* lef' Vlrginny, I come to G-eorgy an' stayed &ar twenty years whar I kicked up plenty of dus'. I even taught school dar. Den i come to Alabamy an' lived in Evergreen for 'bout twenty mo1 years. Since I been in Mobile I s worked for sich "men as ole Simon, Damrich, an* Van Antwerp, an' all dere chilluns has been in dese here arms of mine. I's been a square citizen an' dere hasn't been a time dat I is had to call on nobody, but Uncle Sam when ole man 'pression ©Ofcched me. But thank de Lawd I is still able to git about an' have all my senses 'cep'my eye- sight, an' it's jus' a little po'ly. I is got all my teeths 'cep' one, an' ray mammy was always proud of my hair. See how silky an1 fine it is? Not quite white, dough. I hope * lives long enough for it to turn white as snow. I think St. Peter will lak it better dat way. Washington Copy, 6/17/37. L. H. Alabama JOPfft Ila B. Prine, .QP~ JA- ~-° Mobile, Alabama. lyo See WH ') , ~) TWELVE YEARS 'JEWELL I k%i I $ft % ^ UNDER8T00D SURRENDER, In the middle of the road near Prichard, an Incorporated suburb of Mobile, stood'an aged Negro man, gesticulating as he told a tale of other days to a small audience. Tall, straight, with gray hair and mustache, he was a picturesque figure. He does not know whether he was born in slavery, he said, but he knows his age to be about eighty-one* "I doesn't know whether I was a slave, but Jes' de same I seed Gineral Grant's army when hit went th'ough Virginny," he said *Jes as sho* as yo' is standln' dar, lady, I seed him,and * seed dem men all dressed in dem blue suits a-marchin* side by side, gwine down de road pas' our place. Hit tuk dem three days tuh git pas' our house, "An* does I 'member when dem Yankees mm tuh Ol1 Mistiss house an* tuk a ladder an' clim' up tuh de roof an' tear de boards outta de ceilin' tuh git dem big hams an4 shoulders dey had hid up dar? I sho* does. De women folks makes de slaves hide wid de meat; an4 when dem Yankees fin' dat stuff dey jes' gib hit all tuh de niggers, an' I 'members too, how 01' Miss calls us all to her atter dey lef' an' tole us dat us was v.. I free, but she tole us dat us hab tuh gib back ob de meat an' 'serves 'case she didn't hab a bit tuh eat. 'Cose we was glad tuh do hit 'case Ol' Miss sho' was good tuh her slaves. "I 'members ebery Sunday mawnin' dat she make de older slaves bring all de little niggers up to her big white .two-story house, so she could read de Bible to us, an' den she gib us plenty dem good bis- cuits an' 'tatera dat she had de cook, Susanne, cook for us. She'd say 'Git 'roun' dere, Susanne, an' he'p dem li'l niggers* plates,' I-, railiy thought 01' Miss was a angel. "Talkin' 'bout niggers bein' freed, Ol' Miss tole us us was free but hit was ten or twelve years atter de Surrender, befo' I knowed whut Alabama - 2 - 196 she was talkin' 'bout. I was a big boy goin' to school befo' I had any understandin1 as tuh whut she meant, 801* Miss taught de niggers how to read an* write, an1 some ob dem got to be too 'ficient wid de writln', 'case dey lam how tuh write too many passes so de pattyrollers wudn't git dem. Dat was de onliest time I ebber knowed 01* Miss tuh hab de slaves punished. "01' Miss nebber 'lowed no mistreatln' de slaves, case dey was raisin' slaves for de market, an' hit wouldn't be good business to mistreat 'em. Lor' mah white folks was rich; dey had as many as five or six hundred niggers, men, women and chillun. De plantation was big but I don't 'member how many acres 1 does 'member de cabins was all built in rows, an* streets was laid out 'tween de cabins. De chimbeys was built outta dirt an' sticks, an' sticks, an1 yo1 know up in Vir- ginny hit got turrible cold an' de snow would pile up, so when de cabins was built, de men th'owed dirt up under de house to keep de snow an* cold out. *o' might think dat dirt would wash out from under de house, but hit didn't. Hit Jes' made dem so warm an' com'fo'ble we did'nt suffer. "Dat was de way wid de white folks den; dey didn't do no whippin* an' mistreatin' ob de slaves. Oh, once in a while Ol' Miss might slap de cook's face an' tell her tuh bear down 'roun' dere, an' if she want* ed de servln' boys to hurry, she would say 'Cutch hit,' meanin' fer dem to cut some steps an1 git 'bout in a hurry. "I's de ol'est rat in de pon', an1 'case 1 ain't hung in de , smokehouse, folks think I's not as ol' as 1 says I is, but chile, I's keen heah.^ I 'members how Sam useta to preach to us, when we was at Ol' Miss's place, an' when I growed up, I 'members how I usets think nobody was a Christian 'oeptln1 us Baptists, but I knows better now. Alabama - 3 - 197 leabes off de ordinances ob God, 'tho us has got de Bible an' mo' .Christian litterchoor dan eber befo'. "my Ma's name was 'Liza Rowlets, an' mah daddy's name was Joseph Holmes. My daddy had de same name as de people whut owned him, an' my gran'ma's name was Lucy Holmes. Gran'ma Lucy libed to be a hundred yeahs old, an' she was de fust pusson 1 ebber seed daid. Hit tuk three days tuh bu'y a pusson den, 'case dey dug de graves as deep as yo1 is .tall, which means mo' than five feet deep. Lor' sakes a-livin* us had great times. I forgot tuh tell yo' dat us had home-made beds wid two sides nailed tuh de wall, an' de mattresses was made outta wheat straw. Dat's 'minds me dat dere wa'n't no pore cattle in dem times, 'case yo' could go whar dey thresh de wheat an' git all de steaw yo' wanted an' feed de dry cattle on hit. An' you wouldn't believe de fruit us did hab.' Yo don't nebber see de like down dis way. Sich as apples, cherries, quinces, peaches an' pears. "As fer huntin', I done plenty of it, an1 one thing i got to git forgiveness fer was when I lef Virginny, I lef' 'bout sixty or seventy snares set to ketch rabbits an' birds. "My ma had eight chillun an' we was raised in pairs. I had a sister who come along wld me, an' if I Jumped in de ribber tuh swim, she did hit too; if I clum' a *ree, or went th'ough a briar patch, she done hit right behin' me. Ma wanted to know why her clo's was so tore up, an' when dey was pretty, we 'd make hit right wid % by havin' a rabbit °r coon wid us, an' sometimes a mud turtle, An' as fer 'possums an' coons, us ketch dem in plenty. "'Bout de £ruit, hit makes mah mouf watah tuh think'bout dem cheese apples dat was yaller lac' gold, an' dose Abraham apples de lack of which ain't now to be had. An' dose cherry trees as big as dese oaks, wid long limbs., an' big sugar an' sweetheart, an* black heart cherries. Alabama - 4 - jj 9g Den dere was annudder kin' of cherry called de gorilla,, dat was roun1-' an' growed as big as de yaller plums down dis way. "Now, let me tell yo' sumpin' 'bout Virginny. Hit had hits own law 'bout drink. Dey made de bes' peach an' cherry brandy an* »os' any kin1 yo' ebber heerd ob, 'ceptin' dey didn't 'low yo' to make drink out ob anythin1 you could make into bread. Now yo' understand, sich as corn and rye. "Us had our brandy same as yo' would coffee, 'case hit was cold an* some mawnin* s us would git up an' de snow would be halfway up de do', an1 de men would hab to ditch hit out, so us could git out of de house. On dem rail cold mawnin's my daddy would git de brandy out an' my ma wud put a li'l water an1 sugar wid hit an gib to us chillun. An1 den she'd take sore in her mouf' an' put hit in de baby's mouf an' hit wud open hits eyes an* stamp hits foot rail peart lack. "Us nebber thought nothin* of drinkin'. I kinda believes lack dat fll' infidel, Ingersoll, who said dat anythin' dat was de custom, was de 'eligion. "Folks was a heap kinder-hearted den dey is now, 'case dey kep' >ig doge to hunt up people los' in de snow. Dey all seemed mo4 happy case dey was all busy. At night instid of wastin* dey time, dey wud go fuh de big house an' spin an* weave an* make clo's. "I kin hyar dat ol' loom hummin' now, an' see great cards ob cloth komin* out, an' dem was clo's den dat was made from hit. Hit tuck fire |uh .-it d.em off en1 yo' dey was so strong. I doesn't 'member whut dey Isecl fer dye, but -"- knows dey used copperas as sizin' to hoi' de colors. ,!Ti& of de cloth was dyed red, blue an' black, I Jes' can't 'member Jbout d're, but dey used copperas. 'Dat was de qualification of de intelli- -nce ob de primitive age', in usin4 dat copperas. Dey not jonly made lv do's, but also made out hats. Of co'se dey dey wa'n't very natty, / AlabaBa "5" 199 but was mo* cappy. Dey made 'em wid tabs ober de ears, an' to tie under de chin, an' was dey warm, I'll sayi "Now, when yo* axes 'bout hawg killin' time, dat was de time! Fer weeks de men would haul wood and big rocks, an' pile hit all to- gether as high as dat house; den hab sev'ral piles like dese 'roun' a big hole in de groun' whut had been filled wid watah. Den jes' a li'l atter mid-night de boss would blow de ol* horn, an* all de men would git up an' git in dem hog pens. Den dey would set dat pile of wood on fire, an' den start knockin' dem hawgs in de haid. Us nebber shot a hawg like dey does now. Us allus used an ax to kill 'era wid. "Atter knockin4 de hawg in de haid, dey would tie a rope on hits leg, an atter de water got to de right heat from dose red hot rocks whut had been pushed out 6b dat pile ob nu'in wood into de watah, dey wud th'ow de hog in an' drag hit aroun* awhile, an' take him out an' hab him clean in 'bout three pair o' minutes. Atter he was clean dey hung him up, an' den later cut him up an' hung him in de smoke house, an* smoke him wid great oak logs. Huh, dey don't cu'ah meat now, dey jes1 use sum kinda bresh an' liquid, but dey don't hab meat lack us did. "Den come coJL&huckIn' time. Mah goodness I jes* would love to be dere now. De co'n would be piled up high an' one man would git on dat pile. Hit usually was one who was kinda niggah fo'man dat could sing an' get de wuck out of de odder niggera. Dis fo'man would sing a verse somethin' lack dis? ( "Polk an' Clay went to War, An' Polk come back wid a broken jar." "Den all de niggers would sing back to him, an' hallo, a kinder shoutin' soun1. Ginerally dis fo'man made up his songs by pickin* dem UP from whut he had heard white folks tell of wars. But Miss yo' know whut was de motor powah of dat co'n shuckin'? Hit was de ol' Jug dat was brung 'roun' ebery hour. Dat's de onliest time any ob de slaves Alabama - 6 - railly got drunk. "I wish. * could 'member dose ol1 songs, but all dat hallo done lef' me, 'case de onliest singin' I hears now is de good ol1 sisters singin' an' sayin' 'Amen*' "In days gone by 1 went to plenty of dances an' candy pullins but I doesn't do dat any mo'. I's a preacher, an' when^1 _fu*jst^JLef' Virginny I come to G-eorgia an* stayed dere twenty yeahs, an' I kicked up a plenty of dust in G-eorgia. I eben taught school an' built a plenty on ———""'.....-"........-— of chu'ches dere. Den I come/to Alabammy, an' libed in Evergreen fo* about twenty mo' yeahs, an* I built a two-story brick chu'ch dere. Since I's been in Mobile I s wu'ked by dat Bienville Squah for twenty- eight years, for sich men as ol' man Simon, Damrich, an' Van Antwerp, en' all dere chillun has been in dese arms. I's been a squah citizen an' dere hasn't been but one time in mah life I's had to call on any- body, an' dat was when ¦*• had tuh call on Uncle Sam when ol' man De- """" ' t "" " .....:""""........ ........-• pression got me. But thank God I s still able to be 'bout an' have all my faculties, 'ceptin' my eyesight is a li'l porely. I still has all mah teeth, 'ceptin4 one, an' my ma allus tuck pride in mah haih, yo' see how fine an' silky hit is, an' hit ain't snow white yit. Dere is one thing to be thankful fer. Dat is 'case I s so near home." Bibliography: Personal interview with Joseph Holmes, ^rand Avenue, ¦Prichard, Alabama. Washington Copy, 6/15/37. L. H. Alabama r _ >" Ruby Pick ens Tartt > V;f Livingston D. A. Oden, Editor "CHASING- GUINEA JIM THE RUNAWAY SLAVE Seven miles East from Livingston on State Road No. 80, thence Left two miles via a dim road through the woods to a cultivated section, the beginning of a large plantation area, stands the old- timey cabin of Josh Horn^ a well known and Influential figure in the colored community. Vigorous and active despite his more than 80 years, Josh exemplifies the gentleness with which time deals with those dwelling in a healthful spot and living the simple lives of a rural people, I found him nodding on his front steps, "Josh," I said, "I've come to get you to tell me some old war-time stories, and I want to ask you some questions about you and Alice and how you-all are getting along. I just want to know all about you and your family as far back as you can remember." "All right, Miss Ruby, I's glad to tell you what I knows," said Josh "and it ain't gonna be a lot of fibbln1, but Jes' lak everything was. I's telling you lak you axed me.,r' 6 "Now, 'bout hov; us is getting along. I's telling you de troof, ef I was took 'fore God, I'd say jes1 lak I's saying now, ef my chillun ever et a moufful dat wasn't honest, dey et it soraewhar else, 'ca'se I ain't ever stole a moufful somepin' t'eat for 'em in all my life. It's honest vittles dey et,and varmints I's killed in de woods, 'ca'se us raised chillun fast, and us had f heap of 'era, sixteen, if I 'members right, and soon's I found out dat I could help feed 'em dat way, I done a lieap of hunting. And everybody knows I's a good hunter, Alice used to make me go every Friday night; den us always had a 'possum or two for Sunday." "Why," I afcked, "didn't you go Saturday night?" Alabama -2- 202 "Well, I'll tell you," Josh said, "Alice is a good Christian woman, and she knowed I'd hunt mighty nigh all night, and she didn't want nobody see me coming in Sunday morning wid no gun and no dogsj so I went every Friday night and went in de week too, and dat holp a lot to feed de chillun. I don't owe nobody, not a nickel.vr0 { v "I lak to got'in debt, when de Government come in and tried to help us wid dat cotton doings, Dey cut it down so on me, tell I couldn't make nothing; but I's getting on all right now, and so is my chillun. Us is got fourteen living, and dey's all been to school, but ain't but one been to Booker Washington's school, but dey kin all read <#r write, and some of 'em teaching school out here in de country. De doctor, he come clear out here to see us, 'ca'se I always pays him. He jes' here wid Alice last night* It's nine mile and two of dem's back here in de woods though Marse Johnnie's place, but he come when us went atter him 'bout midnight, Jm dat's a comfort to know he come.H I asked, what was the matter with Alice. "Well, I'll tel^. you, Miss Ruby. She was back dere wid me in de kitchen, and I got tTrough eating and I come out and set down in de swinger to git some air. De moon was shining, and Alice come cut, saying loud as she could:'Who is you? Who is you?1 De chillun run to her wid a lamp en I run, en 'twan't nobody dere. Well, Alice said 'twas a big man standing right 'side her dressed in black, and she called it Death. Us couldn't do nothing wid her, and she didn't know nobody, me nor de chillun, so I went to Livingston atter Dr. McCain, and he come and set wid her 'bout a hour. He said 'twas de 'cute 'digestion or somepin* lak dat. I knowed 'twan't no sperrit; I don't b'lieve in nothing lak dat." "Well," I said, "I don't know, Josh, I ve been hearing some ghost tales that freeze the blood in my veins." Alabama - 3 - "Yassum," said Josh, "if you wants to hear ghost tales, I kin sho tell 'em, ca'se I seed dls here wid my own eyes, 'Tain't no made-up nothing.needer; jes' somepin' I seed Jes' lak I tells you, "Green Hale and I sham Mathews b'longed to New Hope church, and de Reverend Bird Hall pastored dere, Dey axed me down to hear him preach one night, and us three, me and Green and Isham, was riding along side and side. I's riding a mule, but it was a fast mule, and Green couldn't keep up, en Isham said: 'Somebody been hunting.1 I looked up and 'twas a sapling right 'cross de road. He said, •Fellow oughten leave nothing lak dat. When de moon git low, it hit him in de face.' De moon was straight up and down den, and I said: 'Dat's right1, and I's telling you de troof, dat sapling jes' riz up, turned aroun' in de air, en de bresh part tickled my mule and Isham's hoss in de face. If you ever seed 'em buck and rare and jump up, dey sho did. Den dey took off down de road, and we didn't hold 'em back, and here come Green, We lef him behind, 'cause his mule couldn't keep up. If you ever heard a may pray more \y\ A earnester dan old G-reen, I ain't I He come down de road a-yelling: 'Lord, us live togedder, let us die togedder,' He meant for us to wait on him, but I couldn't hold dat mule, and I wan't trying to hold hlmj I was git ting away from dari ""hen us come togedder, us was a mile from whar us done been, 203 QJ) den us had to decide what to do, Isham said for us tovwld him, and Green said no, us nearer to his house; but us wan't near to nobody and I was so scared, hadn't been for Alice, I'd a jes' stayed right whar us was 'tell sun-up. I said, fNo, every man better take keer his own self,' en us did, when I got home, I didn't take nothing °ff dat mule but myself. I jes' left him standing at de do' wid de saddle on. What skeered Green so, was a man, he said, what was Alabama - 4 - /<5U4 ridln' right 'side him en didn't have no head! 'Twas a good thing he didn't tell me dat den, I'd Jes' nacherly drap deadi HNo'm, I don't 'zackly believes in ghostes, but I heared Mr. Marshall Lee say he was riding on home one night and a woman stepped out in de road and say: 'Marshall, let me ride.' He say: 'My hoss won't tote double.' She say: 'Yes it will,' and she Jump up behind him, and dat hoss bucked and Jumped nigh 'bout from under him, but when he got home, she wan't dere. He say, his sifeter had jes' died and it mout been her. ,f 'Nother time, one Friday night, Alice say us better git a •possum for Sunday. She say she didn't want none caught atter mid» night on Sadday. I went down whar I knowed dey was ' Simmons, and demc dogs never treed nothing; dey jes' run 'round dat 'simmon tree lak dey gone craxy. I'm telling you de troof, soraepin' lump outer dat tree, had a head back'erds en for'erds and. look lak a flame shooting out it eyesi 'Twan't lak no possum I ever seed, 'twan't lak nothing. Dem dogs, Liz and Roger en Cuba, made a bluge at me. Cotton was waist high, and I run down de cotton row and cross de road and dey trail me. I say: 'What ail you, dogs?' And dey Jes' come on a- < barkin', and dey run me to de bridge over Konkabyer. So I dumb on de banisters. I seed dey had my trail and dey gonna ketch me, so I turn 'round and tore out for de slough. Dey lost my trail dere and when I got home,'bout daylight, de thorns and de briars and all done tore my clothes plum off me. 'Twas free days 'fore I ever seed &em dogs ag'in. "And I kin tell you somepin' else. It's Jes' lak I say, I'8 always been a hunter, en one night I went down in de post oak woods Anting by myself. Dis is a fact; 'tain't no lie. It's what I done. 1 nad a mighty good dog, and I Jes' kept walking and walking, and I Alabama - 5 - got mighty nigh to Mr* Red^head Jim Lee's place, and I walked on and atter while I seed I'd lost my dog. I couldn't see him nowhar and I couldn't hear him nowhar, and den somepin1 say to me, Jes' lak dis: fJosh, blow your hornif Jes1 lak dat, lak somebody talking to me* Well I give three loud, long blows and set dere awhile longer but dat dog didn't come. Co'se I knowed he'd come sometime, and so I jes1 set dere on dat log and I Jes' turned a fool, I reckon, but 'twas jes' lak somebody talking to me, lak it tpeared to me was whispering: 'Josh, you out here in dese woods by yo'self* You blowed dat horn and your enemy heard you, You's a fool, you is#' And I whispered back: 'Dat's a fact*1 I couldn't hear what it was a-whisparing to me, but us jes' talk back to one 'nuther, and 'bout dat time I look up and here come three men i^i&in' on new saddles wid shiny buckles gwine, 'squeechy, squeechy1, /S jes' lak dat. I hear'de hosses feet jes1 as nachel as could be, I thought sho I seed 'em, and it 'pears to look clean outer reason, but dem men come riding right on up to me, and I jump over dat log and lay down flat on de other side, and it look lak I could see right through dat log and heared 'em say: 'Dar he is, dar he is&, and I seed 'em p'inting dey finger right whar I was. I knowed dem hosses gwineter step over de log on top me, and I's telling you de troof, I jump up from 'hind dat log and run 'bout two miles, and If it hadn't been for dat slough, I don't know whar I'd a went. I come to myself in de middle of dat water, up to hyar, waist high, £no. dar was my dog, old Cuba, done treed a 'possum. "De fust thing I 'members 'bout slave'y time, I wan't nothing out a boy, 'bout fifteen I reckon, dat's what Marse Johnnie Horn Se7. Us belong to Marse Ike Horn, Marse Johnnlds pa, right here °h did place whar us is now, but dis here didn't belong to me den, Alabama - 6 - 20Q dia here was all Marse Ike's place* Marse Ike's gin got outer fix and we couldn't git it fixed. Colonel Lee had two gins and one of 'em was jes' below old Turner house. Recolleck a big old hickory tree? Well dar's whar it was. "I was plenty big 'nough to drive de mules to de gin. Set on de lever and drive 'em, jes lak a 'lasses mill, so dat night Marse Ike told us he want everybody go wid him to Colonel Lee's gin nex' morning, and didn't want nobody to git out and go ahead of him. Dat held up de ginning; made us not to go to de ginhouse tell sunup. "Us got de mules and jes1 waited.'Twixt daylight and sunup, us all standing dar at de gate and we heared a little fine horn up de road. Us didn't know what it meant coming to de house. And bimeby Mr. Beesley, what live not fur from Marse Ike, he rode up and had five dogs, five nigger dogs, w;hat dey call 'em, and soon as he come, Marse Ike's hoss was saddled up and Marse Ike and him rode off down de road and de dogs wid 'em, 'head of us. Us followed i * 'long behind 'em, stay close as dey low us, to see what dey was up / to. When dey got close to de ginhouse, ginhouse right 'side de road, dey stop us and Mr. Beesley told old Brown to go ahead. Old Brown was de lead dog and had a bell on him and dey was fasten togedder wid a rod, jes' lak steers* He turn 'em loose, and den he popped de whip and hollered at old Brown and told him 'nigger'. Old Brown hollered lak he hit. He want to go. And dey was a fence on bofe sides made it a lane, so he put old Brown over de fence on fie ginhouse side, and told Brown to 'go ahead'. He went ahead and run all aroun' de ginhouse and dey let him in de gin-room and he grabbled in de cottonseed in a hole. !,Den somebody holler 'Guinea Jim', ffI looks and I didn't see him. Didn't nobody see him, but Alabama - 7 - 207 dey know datfs whar he been hiding. Mr, Beesley told old Brown he jes1 fooling him, and Old Brown holler agfin, lak he killing him, and Mr. Beesley say! !&o git dat nigger1 and old Brown started !way from dar lak he hadn't been hunting nothing, but he went aroun' and aroun1 dat gin and Mr. Beesley told him he hatter do better dan dat or hefd kill him, fcause he hadn't come dar for nothing. "Brown made a circle aroun1 dat gin 'way down to de fence dat time, and he was so fat he couldn't git through de fence. You know what sort of fence, a rail fence it was. &en he stop and bark for help. Now I seed dis wid my own eyes. Dey put Brown on top de fence and he jump way out in de road, didn't stay on de fence. He jump and run up and down in de road, and couldn't find no scent of Jim. You knows how dey used to make dem rail fences? "Well, Brown come back dar, and dis is de trufe, so help me ¦j-awd. He bark, look lak, for dem to lift him back up on de fence, and bless God, if dat dog didn't walk dat rail fence lak he walking Q log, as fur as from here to dat gate yonder, and track Jim jes1 lak he was on de ground he fell off once, and dey had to put him oack, and he run nis track right on to whar Jim jumped off de fpnce way out in de road. Old Brown run right cross de road to de other fence and treed ag'in on t'other side de road toward Konkabia. Old Brown walk de fence on dat side de road a good piece, jes1 lak £e clone on de other side, and dem other dogs, he hadn't never turned £?Ti loose. "When Brown he jump off dat fence, he jump jes1 as fur as he kin ok de fiel' side, lak he gwine ketch Jim lak a gnat or somepin' and Alabama - 8 - 208 he never stop barking no more, Jes' lak he jumping a rabbit. Den, Mr. Beesley turn dem other dogs loose dat he hadn't never turned loose, 'ca'se he say old Brown done got de thing straight. And he had it straight. Dem dogs run dat track right on down to K6nkabia and crossed it to de Blacksher side. Dey was a big old straw field dar den and dey cross it and come on through dat field, all denr dogs barkin' jes' lak dey looking at Jim. 'Beckley, dey come up on Jim running wid a pine bresh tied behind him to drag his scent away, but it didn't bother old Brown. "When dem dogs 'gin to push him, Jim drap de bresh and runned back toward Konkabia. Now on Konkabia dere used to be beavers worse den on Sucarnatchee now. Dey was a big beaver dam ' twixt de bridge and de Hale place, and Jim run to dat beaver dam. You know when bearers build dey dam, dey cut down trees and let ' em fall in de creek, and pull in trash en bresh same as folks, to dam de water up dar tell its knee-deep. De dogs seen him, old Brown looking at him, jes' 'fore he jump in 'bove de dam right 'mongst de trash and things dey'd drug in dar. Brown seed him and he jump in right be- hind him. Jim jes' dive down under de raff, en let he nose stick outer de water. Every once in a while Jim he put he head down under, he holding to a pole down dar, and once Mr. Beesley seed niiji, he jesi ]_et him stay dar. "Brown would swim 'bout 'mongst de bresh, backerds and for'erds, and terreckly Mr. Beesley tole old Brosn, fGo git him." Den all de ^n got poles and dug 'bout in de raff hunting him. Dey knowed he was dar, en Marse Ike had a pole giggen aroun' trying to find him too. Den he told Mr. Beesley to give him de hatchet and let him fix ^e pole. He sharpen de pole right sharp, den Marse Ike start to •iti? aroun' wid de pole, and he kinder laugh to hlsse'f, 'ca'se he snowed he done found Jim. 'Bout dat time Jim poke he head up and Alabama - 9 - , say: 'Dis here me1, and everybody holler. Den he ax 'em please, for G-od's sake, don't let dem dogs git him, Dey told him come on out. "You see, Jim belonged to Miss Mary Lee, Mr. John Lee's Ma, and his Pa was kilt in de war, so Mr, Beesley was looking out for her. Well, dey took Jim outer dar, and Mr. Beesley whipped him a little and told himt 'Jim, you put up a pretty good fight and I's gwine to give you a start for a run wid de dogs.' "Jim took out towards Miss Mary's, and Mr, Beesley helt old Brown as long as he could. Dey caught Jim and bit him right smart. You see dey had to let em bite him a little to satisfy de dogs. Jim could have made it, 'cept he was all hot and wore out, "Dat's 'bout all I knows, 'cept us belonged to Marse Ike Horn, and fust us belonged to Mr. Price Williams, what run de hotel in Livingston, He took my gran'ma to Mobile, den he died. Us Ma belonged to dey two chillun, Miss Nancy G-ulley, Mr. Jake's wife, en Miss Burt Blakeney. Marse Ike Horn was dey uncle, and us all come 'round to him, and us been here ever since. My mammy was Ann Campbell, and my pappy was John Horn, and us ain't never had no trouble wid nobody 'bout nothing, "We's having a barbecue on de fo'th of July and us wants you fco come down to it, if Alice gits along well, and I's gwine tell you 'bout Rod and Big John, and John G-raverson when dey runned away and about how old man Jim Devers, Alice's step-pa, hid em in She can only recall "Sist* Nellie, Sist' Harriett an1 Sist1 Liza." Sis&rt^wT^elped Aunt Evalina ^ the kitchen. Emma lifted her eyes toward the ceiling, endeavoring to recall :- t&Wfiir^Cy-? W$ the exact number of servants her master owned* "Edie was de laundress,¦ she recalled, "an1 Arrie, she was de weaver. Den dere was Becky, Melia, Aunt Mary, Ed, John and Uncle George the house man, who married Aunt Evalina. Jake was de over-looker (over- seer.) He was a great, big cullud man. Dar was more, but I can*t 'member. I was jes' a little shaver den." She remembers that the Big House was huge and white with a beauti- ful parlor and guest room, where the visitors were entertained. Gigantic white columns rose in front of the house, and clusters of magnolias surrounded it. The slave houses were located about two hundred yards back of the house. "Massa Shepherd an1 Mistis G-eorgiana was both good an' treated de servants kin1," Emma said. "I 'members dat I used to keep de flies off en >istis G-eorgiana wid a big fan, an1 once I went to sleep. She jesit laugh v/hen she foun1 me sleepln' dar beside her. "Massa would only whup a slave fer two things," she recalled." [One thing was if things warn't done up jes' right at hog killin1 time, and de other was iffen a nigger warn't clean when he 'ported for work Ion Monday mornin's. 01' Massa didn't do de whuppin's hisse'f. Jake did lit;, but ^assa sat dar on his horse to see dat only a certain number of [licks was give. "How did we feel 'bout a white man who would be over-looker? We called him 'po white trash.' tte wasn't thought much of by anybody.." Emma said that every one went to church on Sundays and that she liked to sing the old religious hymns. When freedom came all the Shep- herd servants had been taught to read and write, she said, and each Family hacL enough money to buy a little home. "De iaarster" would make tech family keep pigs, hens and such; the^he would market the products N Place the money aside for them, Emma explained. Alabama - 3 - 213 Talking further about work about the plantation, she said: "Louisa cleaned de parlor an' kept Mistis' room nice," She took up a recital of work on the plantation. "Atter dat she didn't do anything but sew, an' Sist' Liza hoped her wid dat. After de weavin', we done sewin', and it took a lot of sewin1 for dat family. Eve'body had two Sunday dresses, summer and winter, as well as clothes for eve'day. "For de men's suits de wool had to be took off an' carded an' got ready to make. But we had plenty of wool from our own sheep. "When dey kilt de hogs for winter meat, dey took some of de hands out of de field an' let dem hope. We had a smokehouse full of hams and middlin's, an' when rainy spells came, us chillun would rake up chips an' leaves an' make a smudge of smoke to keep de meat S|ree.t. "Massa Shepherd and Miss G-eorgiana, was both mighty kin* heart- ed an1 treated their servants good. ^ Once when Marse Shepherd sent us chilluns down to de station wid a note, he say, 'Now, go fas'.' But re played 'long the way an' picked flowers. When we come steppin' back, he say, 'I told you to hurry.' I held out de flowers an' say, 'Bee, us brung you some flowers;' but he take up a little switch an1 nettle my legs good. "Massa always give us plenty of eve'thing. On Friday us work- ed an' washed, an1 on Sattidy us cleaned for Sunday. Den on Sunday '•assa would go 'roun' an ' have a mouthful at every house to see dat eve'thing was done up jes' right, an' if they wasn't, somebody got a tfhuppin1 next day. "When us went to church on Sunday, Massa Shepherd, Miss &eor:;iana an* us three chilluns rode in de rock-a-way. Dat was a carriage shaped mos* lak a bowl. De carriage was pulled by two big Alabama - 4 - 214 horses, an' de coachman what sat up on de high seat had on a long double-breasted coat, shiny black boots an* a tall silk hat. Massa had on a silk hat, too, but he wore a tight-waisted coat. An' Miss G-eorgi- aha, she look lak a bokay. "She didn't lak to wear hoops, because she had sprained her ankle once an' walked wid a limp. She liked to wear thin, cool, flowery dresses wid lots of ruffles an' lace. She also wore a scoop of white straw,mighty sof' over de years an' flarin1 high an* spreadin1 over de face. It was filled wid flowers an' tied wid long streamers of ribbon." Emma said that Mr. Shepherd died during the second year of the war, and that it was whispered he was poisoned because he was so £ood to his niggers(£o#H9k!piBMi»BC* Just before the war closed, she rf J ¦ said, krs. Shepherd married again and later moved to Texas. "I was took on as a cook by a rich family named Marchlel, in Montgomery,H she said. "Dey treated me lak I was deir own daughter. 1 vras 'lowed to go out three nights a week, but no more, an' I had to be home by 'leven o'clock. "I got engaged to be married an' de boy had to ax for me. I 'i.iember dat Massa Marchiel say: 'If you don't take good care of her I 11 take her back.' When de younges' daughter married she lef' me -er veil an' wreath, an' dey give me a weddin' dress an' shoes. "My husban* was a carpenter, an' we lived in dis house. When -'e died, I went to work for a family dat once was de richest family in de State. Dey comes to see me every few days, an' nex1 week day are corain' for me to spen1 de day wid dem. De reason I has stayed so well is dat folks has always been so good to me." %sh. Copy, 6/2/37. L. K. Alabama .Preston Klein, Opeilka, Alabama. 215 Jack Kytle, Editor* ^ MY GRANDMA RAISED ^ PLENTY CBILLUNS. -*& Uncle Everett Ingram mused: "Honey chile, my gran1 mammy was de beatehest woman to have ehilluns dat you ever seen. I £as hyared dat she raised so many of dem dat she brung a mighty heap on de block; some- wnere near a thousan* dollars.* Uncle Everett Is a familiar figure in East Opeilka, where he has lived for years. He was "a right good-sized scamp at freedom time* and remembers much of what he has seen and heard. He was born in Russell County, the son of Prince and Fanny ingram. They had seven other chil- dren; Jerry, Clara, Rubin, Jep, Lula, Eugene and Lucy. Everett says of his life: "Our house in de slave settlement was made of logs an* had one room, it had a mud an* stick ehiraney, a plank floor an* a boxed-up bed wid one leg at de foot. Be mattress was stuffed wid shucks an1 straw. "My gran'pappy, Prince Walden£_ant_Lugy, his wife, come from Hussell County, too, an* belonged to de Cowingtons. Later dey was sold to Dr. Walden, at Uchie. When dey come to Uchie de county wa8__£u2Lj>f Indians. My gran*pappy useta drink likker wid 'em; but gran'ma, she was sfceered an* runned away to Columbus, Georgy. On her way dere, my mammy was borned in de woods. "I 'members dat when I was a strip of a boy, dey cooked ash-cake ^leaves an' de ehilluns et pot-lleker an* bread^n* gre^9L_5u*en wooden trays wid wooden spoons. Dey would sit under de trees an* eat. Each family had dey own bowl, an1 us et a-plenty, too. In cold weather mammy kePt all de ehilluns in de house by de fire. "Master had us a two-room house, 'ca'se my mammy was de cook an1 leaver. Dey made dey own silk den, too, an1 raised de silk worms. Us Alabama - 2 - 216 useta get mulberry leaves to feed de silk worms wid. Us used indigo, wnich us cooked an* used for dye. Us would wear any kind of clotnes on everyday an* Sunday; an* didn*t have no shoes *til us was big chilluns. "01' Marster an' 01' Mistus, Mr. Bill an1 Miss Lucy Ingram, lived in a big weather-boarded house wid a wide hall an1 a chimney at each end. De kitchen was off from de rejrt of de house. "I 'members dat de overseer useta whip mammy an* pappy, *ca*se dey fignt so m€^h. He useta take my mammy to de carriage to whip her. Marster was in de war den. Wnen he come home, de overseer tuk mammy by de han* to de house an* tell Marster *bout havin* to whip her. He'd Jest shake his head, sad-lak. He was mighty good to all of us. "My gran*pappy was put in de speculator drove, put on de block an' sold. "I 'members dat Mistus read de Bible to us an* my mammy was con- verted by de white preacher. He baptized her* De colored folks used de white church an* set in de back. "An* honey, dey shorely did have good times dancin' on Sattidy nights; an' sometimes dey would dance 'till Sunday mornin'. When de corn needed shuckin*, it was hauled up near de crib, an' on a purty moonlignted night Marster would pass *roun* de likker. It wouldn't be long 'til dey was all happy an' had what dey called a general. De general led all de hollers an1 songs. Dey shorely did get dat corn chucked fast, too. "Gran'mammy was a great doctor; useta give us turpentine an' cas- tor oil an1 Jerusalem oak fer worms. She'd give us ail kinds of teas, t°o. I* members dat gran'mammy was also a midwife. "De Yankees corned through de yard in May an' tol* us: 'Tou's free** _ • e Yankees wasn't so good. (Dey hung my mammy up in de smokehouse by her thumbs; tips of "her toes Jest touchin1 de floor, 'ca'se she wouldn't Alabama - 3 - •gxee to give up her older chilluns. She never did, neither^) "Daddy stole both de older chilluns, dough, an1 went off. De Yankees stole provisions an' stock an' hauled 'em off. De news got to Uchie an* everybody hid out; Marster wid 'em. Dey hunted de money wrut was hid m de colored folks beds; nearly 12,000. De Jewelry was dere, too. Dey foun* some money at de big house an' said: 'Dis money ain't worth a damn;' but dey tuk it Jest de same. HI married battle Graves. Den I J'ined de church an' was saved.H We. s rang ton ^opy, 8/2/3?. L. H. 217 Alabama iW^r,«. , J^^^ bertha Oouric, 2jL8 >^ John Morgan Smith. * tioSD KU KLUX RIDES WHEN DE NIGGERS STARTS TROUBLE, jo) On a high knoll overlooking the winding Chewalla Creek is a little one room shack. Its rusty hinges and weather-beaten boards have seen many a glowing sunset; have stood against many high winds and rainsj they have for many years sheltered Aunt Hannah Irwin, ex-slave. Now the old Negro woman is too old and feeble to venture very often from her small home. She lives almost in solitude with her memories of the past, and an occasional visit from one of her old friends who perhaps brings her some fruit or a little money. "Yas'm, I'll be pleased to tell you 'bout whut 1 rememberssroun4 de time of de War." Aunt Hannah sat stolidly in a chair that virtually groaned under her weight; and gave utterance to this fiej&timtent through a large thick mouth, while her gold ear rings shook with every turn of her head, and her dim eyes glowed with memory*s fires. "Dere ain't nuch I can tell you, dough," she went on, "kaze 1 wuz only twelve years old vhen de war ended. "I wuz bawn on Marse Bennett's plantation near Louisville, Ala- bama. La Mammy's name wuz ^ester an' my pappy wuz named Sam. "I remembers one night raght^atter de war when de re struction *uz a-goin1 on. Dere wuz some niggers not far fum our place dat said en' some er de young niggers went off atter de Yankees, en' neber did come back, cut de res' ob us jes1 stayed right whaiywe is. Us had a mighty hard , ti.ie for a long time, but de white folks had de same hard time en' us didn't mek no diffunce. I mai'ed Rufus en* us raise a big fambly right dar on Ole Marster's plantation, en' outen us's twelve chilluns, ain't nary one eber seen de inside ob de jailhouse. I raise my chilluns jes' ialc Ole Mistis raise her'n en' dats de way to raise 'em, to wuk en' -r.eep outen debilment. Ole Marster dead en' gone en' Ole Mistis too, but ':::e:ibers 'em jes' lak dey was, when dey looked atter us whenst we be- longed to 'em or dey belonged ter us, I dunno which it was. De times ¦as better fo' de wah. Us had good things to eat en' plenty of it, en* •"? -ad p:ood clos' en' clean clos' fer Sunday. Dat's mo'n some triflin1 ^ a r'"k:.;ers got now. "I goes to church en' sings en' prays, en' when de good Lord te-s :.ie, I'se ready to go, en' I specs to see Jesus en' Ole Mistis en1 c-e -arster when I gits to de He'benly Lan1." "'ash. Codv. ,5/23/37.^' !L- H. Alabama ^ Ruby Pickens Tartt Livingston, Alabama. - -.-«.. i-.fc* HOODOOIN' DE DOGS Uncle Hilliard Johnson and his wife Oallie live on the Johnson place about three and a half miles from Livingston, Ala,, the same place Hilliard was brought as an infant of two in slavery days. He and Callie tend their own little patch of ground and they own a mule. White friends patch up the gaps in their financial structure and everybody knows them. Uncle Hilliard pulled up his mule in front of my house and climbed down from the high seat, leaving Callie sitting placidly in the sun. He came around to the kitchen door and announced that he was here, "'ca'se he got de word I wanted to ax him somepln." "Uncle Hilliard, * I said, MI want to hear all about you and your family and whom you belonged to in slavery time,H "Well, Miss Ruby, iffen you is knowed me all dese years and still don1 know who I'm is, and my family is, and who us belonged to, dey ain't no use of me stoppln' now to tell you, 'Sides, I's sick, I's been to de horspital in York, Dr, Hills', and he wants to operate, I's skeered of de knife and ain't got no money neither. "I can't eat nothin' but tomato soup, Dem sho' is nice ones you got dere on de she'f, and oyster soup and rice soup and all lac fiat. Can't eat no rough vittles lac collards, I ain't gittin' on well atall, but I'll 'bilge you a while, I was thinkin' other day 'bout you and dem ole sperichel hymns I leads out to Mount Pilgrim, Xou's got Oh Lord. I'm a Wait in' on You ain't you? I knowed you had dat 'bout And I Can't Do Nothin' Until You Comes. Sho Can't, Nell, here's one you ain't got, 'ca'se hit's a really old sperichel ffly gran'raaw use to sing. I's sorter hoarse today, but hit go: "Jes' carry me and bury me I'll rise at de comin' day. Jes' carry me and bury me, I'll rise at de comin' day." Alabama - 2 - "Now dat's jes' de chorus and de verse say: "When I was in my worldly ways Nobody had nothiN' to say. Now I'm ridin' de pale white hoss Evybody got something to say." "Den de chorus ag'in, and hit's a pretty one sho's you bawn." I mentioned the figure of speech Mpale white hoss", but he "didn't know nothin' 'bout no figures! "And another one, dey is so many, let me see. Here one but I Jes' can't call to mine a heap of verses: "Trouble here and dey's trouble dere, I really do believe dere's trouble ev'ywhere. Swing low, chariot, I'm gwine home. Swing low, chariot, I'm gwine home." "Den hit goes on and tell 'bout de moaner, says: "Oh, dey's a moaner here, dey's a moaner dere, I really do b'lieve dey's a moaner ev'ywhere. Swing low, chariot, IJ-m gwlne home. Swing low, chariot, I'm gwine home. "Oh dey's a sinner here, dey's a sinner dere, I really do b'lieve dey's a sinner ev'ywhere. Swing low, chariot, I'm gwine home Swing low, chariot, I'm gwine home. "Oh, dey's a Christun here, dey's a Christun dere I really do b'lieve dey's a Christun ev'ywhere Swing low, chariot, I'm gwine home. Swing low, chariot, I'm gwine home. "Den dey's a heap of 'em to dat song lac a "deacon" and a "member" and a "prayer" and a "singer", jes' a whole passel dem verses, but I reckon dem will do today, "Now what else you want, 'ca'se dem mules is tired and I is too. 'Sides I got to see a man and Callie in de waggin and she's hot too. You knows Callie, she my wife, my second wife, and us got twelve chillun in all, growed and married. Us still live on £e Johnson place three and a half miles from Livingston right nan' slue de ole Boyd road west from town. Us belonged to Miss Ella Johnson, she was us young Mistis, and Mr. Nep Johnson, dat's de Alabama - 3 - onliest ones I ever khowed. My mammy, Frances Johnson, and my pappy, Alf Johnson, come from down 'bout Gubie Station, Young Mist'iss bought 'em I reckon and my gran'maw, Rachel Johnson. Pus' thing I knowed, us was livin' on Johnson place, Dey was good to us, 'bout seventy-five of us all together, I reckon. All I 'members, dey looped de bridle rein over my feet an1 let de mule drag me all over de orchard. It hurt my head. And dey beat some of 'em up scan'lous, but dey was pretty good to me, I reckon. See, I wa'n't so ole, Jes1 a young boy in slavery time, but I re- call young Massa told Tom, a young nigger dere, one time not to go to de frolic. "'Clean up dem dishes and go ter bed,' he say. And Tom said •Yassuh' but Marse Nep watch Tom th'oo de do' and atter while Tom slip out and away he went, wld young Massa right fhin* him. He got dere and foun' Tom cuttln' groun' shuffle big as anybody. Young Massa called him, 'TomM he say, 'Tom, didn't I tell you you couldn't come to dis frolic?' 'Yassuh,' says Tom, 'You sho' did, and I jes' come to tell 'em I couldn't come]' "Young Massa didn't hurt Tom none, but I is seed 'em strip 'em plum nekked and high .'bout kill 'em. I did see 'em kill old Collin, but dey done dat wid a shot gun jes' 'ca'se dey couldn't control him. Did they have nigger dogs, you say? Yassum, dey sho' did, but I'm tellin' you de troof now some of de black folks knowed how to git away from dem nigger dogs jes' lac dey wa'n't dere. Mr. Joe Pat ton, you know Mr. Joe Pat ton don' you? Young Kr, Joe, I'm talkin' 'bout what's over here in town and use to be &e sher'ff. Well, in his day, he done seed a nigger hoodoo dem fogs 'ca'se dey had nigger dogs after S'render too. I kin tell you what I seed, but what dey done now, I doan' know, I couldn't tell you dat. But hit was a fair day, fair as 'tis now, and dey sot de Alabama - 4 - 230 dogs on dat nigger and 'fo' yer knowed hit dat nigger done lef! dere and had dem dogs treein' a nekked tree. 'Twa'n't nobody dere. Dey calls hit hoodooin1 de dogs. And Ifse seen hit more times than one. Time I tell you 'bout, Mr. Patton was ag'in. fTwas a feller right here in town. I forgits his name but he v/as a tall nigger, married Dennis Coleman's daughter. You 'mem- bers Dennis Coleman, had dat gal call Hettie? Well, he married Hettie, and he whooped her up mightily. She 'ported on him to de sheriff, and he went to git him. I can't think what dat nigger go by now, but anyhow Mr. Patton couldn't ketch him and he sot de dogs on him and dey couldn't ketch him. Dey knowed whichaway he went, down 'bout Bear Creek on Miss Mamie Smith's place in de flat- woods. 'Twa'n't no trouble to ketch nobody down dere, but dem dogs couldn't do hit, and fus1 thing you know he run back to Hattie's* uNow jes' give me a few tomatoes, Miss Ruby, and I mus' cut cis short. Deyrs a cloud comin1 up over yonder by Peter's washpot £.nd dat's when us gits a rain. I got a fur piece to go for a old :nan. Yassum, I'se nigh 'bout seventy-nine years old and porely." 7-13-37 '? D. T 10171 fajUST) Morgan ^t^ RANDOLPH AND THE LITTLE CRIPPLE ' ' Randolph Johnson, age 84, although he admits he was "jes1 a little picaninny" when the War between the States began, still recalls with vivid clarity the. days of his childhood on the old plantation. Unlike most of the former slaves, he never worked hard. His hours were too filled with the jo3r of playing, for he belonged to a little crippled boy about his own age and guarded over him all the time. At night the little white Blaster and his smell black playmate slept in the same room; the dMNHft having a pallet that he spread on the floor. During the day both little v/hite and black played in the shade of the cedars on the grassy lawn. The kindly white owner of the plantation was always good to Randolph. iJever a cross word was spoken to him, he says. "But one day," Randolph said, "de little massa took very sick. i>ey v/ouldnH even let me see him. I had a feelin* trouble was a co^in*, kaze little massa neber did have no real life like other boys. He was always a lookin' lak a sick puppy. I gues de Lawd jus1 vented him fo* hisself, and he took him. "^dder dat I was put to work on a mule dat turned de wheel or de cotton gin. He jus' walk aroun* in circles lak de mule dats yulliri' a syrup pre^&^jDen de V/ar came, and all de good clothes P'-t v:e had made on de loom turned to tatters. De food got low; "^"ft of de slaves run away and some of our houses was burned by de V-.i-'-eGs. Atter de war, de massa came back and told us niggers dat '¦'•s uuint slaves no mo*. Said we could go, but if we wanted to stay we could do dat too. He gib' each fambly dat stayed a rn^le, a cow, sons tools and money, enough to run *em till dey could git de.crop ^¦rv«.«?ted. He was de best massa dat any nigger ever had. xilabama - 2 - 232 /^ MDen I come to Buinmin'ham. I worked on de railroad dey was put tin1 through. I was a big nigger and I could make de others ntep. I was about six feet three inches and weighed near 200 pounds. I knowd my ole massa would have been proud of me if he coulda seed ne a-workinf on de railroad and a liftnf dem ties and a sweat inf v;Id dem rails; I wished I coulda been in his cotton field and a- lieard him talkin1 fair like instid ob listenin1 to dat foreman J 5*ibinf us de debil fbout bein1 lazy when we was a workinT our selfs nearly to death. Den one day I saw de foreman slap a nigger fo1 drinkin1 at de dipper too long. De nigger picked up a shovel and slam him in de haid, and run. Back in de slabery days dey didnft :-o sonethin1 and run. Dey run befo1 dey did it, kaze dey knew d:-t$ if dey struck a white man dere want goin1 to be no nigger. In dem days dey run to keep from do in* something Nowadays dey ao it and den dey runs. Alabama .1 L:'i*2Q &• ]>• Clark 238 .$ The Patriarch Abraham Saw the Stars Fall (Photo) A lot of water passes under the bridge in 112 years. I thought of that as I talked to Abraham Jones, 112-year-old ex-slave of Village Springs, Alabama. "Uncle Abe" says he was born August 1, 1825> in Russell County, Alabama. Perhaps the day, the month and the year may not be exactly accurate. But they are near enough. He recalls the falling of the stars, the removal of the Indians from Russell County and the settlement of Auburn and other towns in that section. His great age is not apparent in his looks, actions or natural faculties. His hair is thin and white, but no more so than that of many men half his age, and his hearing is good. The mellow voice so characteristic of his race, is strong. He stands as straight as a soldier* And he works regularly to earn a living for his family. When we found him he was laying a flagstone walk in hard clay soil, and there was power in the swing of his pick and his tamping ax. His regular daily chores include milking a cow and chopping wood. He describes the phenomenon of falling stars as an event that occurred when he was "alittle shaver 'bout eight year' old." Novem- ber 13, 1833 was the date. "Yes, sir, I saw de stars fall. Some folks say dey didn't never fall but I seen 'em. Dey fell Jest like pitch from a torch, 'Z-z-z-z-zip, z-z-z-z-zipi' and big cracks come in de ground. I w&s settin' on de end of de porch, and I watched * em. Dere was so many grown people crowdin' into de house, 'twa'n't no use fer me to try to git in so I jest sot still. We had a big sill under °ur house, more dan a foot thick, and so many people crowded in Alabama - 2 - 2']4 de house till dere weight broke de sill. Dey was cryin1 and hollerin* but de stars didn't hurt nobody; dey jest fell and went out, and I don" t know where dey went den; maybe into dem cracks in de ground. De cracks stayed a long time and it was dangerous for de people to go about at night; dey might fall in de cracks. One of dem I remember was two feet across and so deep dey could- n't find no bottom wid a long pole. I reckon dem stars kept fallin' for about a hour. Folks thought de end of time was comin1 and everybody got right after dat. "Back at dat time de country was not settled much and dere was lots of Indians. My grandpappy was a full-blooded Indian but I don't know what kind. De Indians was good people but if dey thought you had done 'em wrong dey'd kill you right now. I saw some of dem when dey left dat country. Dey women carried de babies in some sort of sacks, hung down in front of 'em, and de men carried some of de bigger chillun on dey shoulders* Dey didn't have no property—jest lived wild in de woods. "A few years after de stars fell, a passel of people from de other side of Columbus, Georgia, moved over and started de town of Auburn so dey could have a place for a school. "Before de war my people took me up to Blount County, and when de war come dey left me to run de grist-mill. I was de fust man in Alabama to try to grind a bushel of oats. I ground 'em too. A lady brung de oats and ast me could I grind 'em, and I told her I would try. She say dey didn't had nothin' for de chillun to eat. I ground de oats, and told her, «01e Mistis, I knows jest how 'tis and I'll be glad to give you a peck of meal if you will use it.' She say, 'of course I will; jest put it in with the oat meal, and I sure will appreciate it.' Her husband Alabama - 3 - was off to de war and she didn't had no way to feed de chillun. "I was workin' on de road a long time after de war and was tellin' de men about dat when her son hear me. She had told him about it and so he went home and told her he had found me. She sent word back for me to go to her house and let her see if I shore *nuff was de same man. So I went and when she seen me she say, 'Yes, he is the same man,• and she called her husband and de other chillun and told 'em about it. Her husband say, •Well, dey is jest one thing we kin do. If he ever need a place to stay or vittles to eat, we must see dat he gits dem.• "In slavery time I belong to Massa Frank Jones, and Timothy Jones was de overseer on de place. Prank Jones had two planta- tions, de one whar I was born and another one close to Columbus. People ax me sometimes what kind of house I was born in and I tell 'em I wa'n't born in no house; and I warn't, I was born in de middle of de big road. "It's gittin' to where it's mighty hard for me to go now and do de work to make sompen for us to eat. I can't git about so fast and my head bother me a lot. I been workin' a long time now, and you does git tired after a hundred years of workin'IM On his wrists were circlets of heavy cord. I asked him why they were there and he explained: "To keep de pain out. Dey keeps it out purty good but if you can git a little leather band wid a buckle on it, dat is better yet. I wears dese all de time." Wash. Copy R.L.D. 5-10-37 2,'*- tt5 ^iiiN#**lilil ppfPPBIIfffjjfifip^ f: ;.123 ©pelika. ¦ EMMA TELLS HOW TO MAKE THEM "TEETHE EASY.» Emma Jones, eighty-three years old, was born in the Chattahooshee Valley between West point and Columbus G-eorgia. She is very alert, though quite deaf. "White folks," she began, "I belonged to Marse Wiley Jones and his v/ife, Mist is Melba. :iei "I lived in a little two-room log cabin with high t^ester beds and mattreses filled with cawn shucks. Our food den was aVway better dan tie stuff we eats today. It was cooked on a fireplace made outen rocks './id oi£ hooks fastened into de side to swing /Wat* pots aroun' on. Us cooked hoe-cakes on a three-legged skillet dat sot ober hot coals an1 us had a big oven for to bake meat an1 cawn bread*in. Dere ain't nothin' lak [it nov.days no'm. "Ole &assa had a big garden an1 we useta git de vega'bles we et [fin his garden. De folks was plenty good to us. Sometimes de mens would p.nt 'possums an' rabbits an' wild turkeys, We sho' loved dem 'possums mothered in 'taters. "An1 talkin1 'bout medicines. Let me tell you a sho*'nough cure [or a baby dats havln1 a hard time teethin'. Jus' putt a string of coppers [rouri1 he neck an' he won't have no trouble at all. Us useta do dat to ittle white chilluns an1 de black uns to; 'specially in hot weather |nen eey jus seem to have de misery. "Atter us got to be big gals, us wo' cotton dresses an drawses in lot y.'pnt her, an' when it git col' we had to wear long drawses an' homespun l0°l dresses an' home-knitted socks and shoes datAcobbler made in his / \.<\-+ ¥ou know, white folks, we useta make near 'bout eve'ything dat B needed to run a body raght on our plantation. Us had eve'ything. On n^: us wo' gingham an' calico dresses an' I ma'ied in a Swiss dress. Alabama - 2 - 337 "I worked as a house gal an1 when Miss Sarah ma'led * went with her to nuss her chilluns. Besides Miss sarah dere was Mista Billy, Mista Crick, i»iiss LUcy and Miss Emma. Dey had two uncles an1 a Aunt of deres lived dere tod. "We had a happy fambly. At night some of de house niggers would atrer roun de fire, an mistis would read us de scriptures, an de vhite chilluns git tired an1 slip out de do1 but us little niggers !<- » couldn t ford to do dat; us hadda stay dere whether us liked it or not. Sometimes de massa let de niggers dance anf 'frolic on Saturday nights, but re warn't flov/ed to go off en de plantation, none ceptin1 de ones dat had r. wife or husban1 on anudder plantation; den dey could only stay for ? short time. Sometimes us could go off to church, an1 I remembers a. ^."btizin1 in de creek. Some of dem niggers most got demselves drownwd. Dey warn't usedlto so much water an1 dey would come up outen de creek a s^ittin* an* a-cdughin* lak de debil had a holt of f em. Dere was so ...uch shoutin1 I fspose ever*body fo'ten miles aroun1 could hear dem [nL; ers a-carrin1 on in de creek. l "Durin1 de war, my mammy helped spin cotton for de soldiers1 iciothes, an1 when de Yankees come through, us hid all de valuables in ^.e v;oodsf Us had to feed dem an1 dere hosses too* Dey et up near *bout "^rything we had on de place. "Dere warn't no schools in dem days for us colored folks. Us ,e,rne,,- ^«um de scriptures, an1 by listenin1 to de white folks talk." Alabama Pigie T. His, Greensboro John Morgan Smith - :*t.)(W - -------B----------- _*. a \$* AUNT HANNAH HAS A « HUNDRED DESCENDANTS Aunt Hannah Jones lives with her daughter in a small four room house on Tuscaloosa Street, Greensboro. "Lawdy, she said, "It's been so long dat Ifs mos1 forgot •bout dem slavery days, but I was bavm, in Bunker Hill, Amelia Goitnty, Virginny. My pappy was named • Simon Johnson an' my" mammy was Rhoda Johnsan.' My Marster was Alfred A ffood an* my mistis was Miss Tabby Wood. When Massa died, de 'state was *vided an1 I fell to de son dat was too sick to take care of de place an1 de slaves. Soon I was tuk to Richmond an' sold to Jedge Moore of Alabammy for twelve hundred dollars. Dat was de fust time I ever seed a slave sold. I was sixteen years old. When Jedge Moore's plantation was sold de niggers went wid de place an' it was bought by Marse Isaiah an' Mar'se Bill Smarr. It was called de Gillum Place and dat is east of Prairieville. I was house girl an1 hope wid de sewin' an' de spinnin'. "Us had good houses built outten cedar logs an* de quarters looked jus' lak dis street dat I lives on now. We had good beds ?n' plenty vittels to eat: greens, cawn bread, meat an'all kinds of sweets. Some time de men folks would ketch a 'possum or rabbit. r.arster had a big vegetable garden an' we was 'lowed to hejp our— selves f'urn dis here garden. Us had two eve'y day dresses, an' v'e done our washin1 at night. When I was ma'ied, de ceremony tuk plr.ce at my Mammy's house an' I wo' a pretty white dress. "Our oberseer was Harvey Williamson an1 he went 'roun' at nine o'clock to see iffen us niggers was in baid. Sometimes atter ke done been 'roun', us'd git up an* have some fun. At de break °" day all de slaves would git up an' go to work. Dose goin1 way Alabama - 2 - down in de fiel's would have to git up even befo1 it was light sofs to be dar when de dawn broke to commence de day's work. Den dey would come back at twelve o'clock for dinner an' res' awhile, den go back an1 work till sun down. "We useta have a man on de place dat played a banjo* an' we would dance an1 play while he sang. Dis was one of his songs: White folks says a nigger won't steal i But I cotched six in my cawnfiel1 "; If you want to see a nigger run. --•• / Shoot at dat nigger wid a gattlin' gun. v~"My last Marsters was two brothers an' dey had one sister, Idas Sarah SmavT "We didn't hage no Jail on de place, an' most of us never went offen de plantation, Jus' stayed 'roun' an* had a good time playin1 ;. hi axtngst ourselves. I Us niggers had a church dar on de place an1 a white man preached to us, but in Virginny we went to de same church PS de Marster did. I didn't Jine no church dough till I come to Alabamy "None of us slaves ever tried to run away to de nawth 'ca'se dey v.'as good to us. / "We useta hage a doctor dat'd come roun' eve'y two weeks to see how de slaves was doin' an' iffen we was sick he would give us some medicine. Some of de women would tie assfedity 'roun1 de chilluns necks to keep de sickness away. "Some Saddays we had to work after dinner, but most of the rfcime i.arster would let us have a good time. On Christmas day-us had a "rir celebration an' didn't do no work at all. "Didn't nobody have no time to learn us how to read an' write. "I don't know nothin' 'bout Mr. Lincoln 'cep'n he freed all us sieves, an' when we heard dat us was free all de niggers marched i Alabama - 3 - 240 v- to Prairieville an' had a celebration. "Honey, I's had nine chilluns, twenty five gran' chilluns, twenty seven great gran1 chilluns an' thirteen great great gran- chilluns, an' I is expectin' rao1 to come along pretty soon. I guess maybee 1*11 have 100 descendents fo1 I shuffle off. Wash. Copy R;L.D. 6-2 5- 37 llabama Gertha Couric Eufaula, Alabama , v^-v^ A h : u . J WHEN SHERMAN PASSED THROUGH Aunt Josephine claims to be the oldest Negro in Eufaula. She says she was born ninety-four years ago in North Georgia on f: plantation above Atlanta. She lives now in Eufaula, Alabama .fith a great-granddaughter, *I used to belong to Marse Rogers," she said. "After sur- render, 3ferae Rogers moved to dis country, and bought 8 planta- tion 'twixt Marse Josiah ITlourney's and General Toney's. He fold his plantation jMned theirs,* She was 8 nurse-maid all of her life, even in Slave days, and never was 8 *field nigger.1* ;¦;?"< ed if she saw any soldiers during the war she said she saw "thousands,* -y "I and my Mistis and her baby hid in de swamps three days v.h'le Sherman and his army was passin* through,* she explained. ":?'rre Rogers was in Virginny and when he got back home, there ve?n*t nothin* left but a well. Everything had been burned up. '"e house was gone and so was de smoke house; everything.* She ~'~l~c that the well was a *dry well* where melons and butter and ^'.V< end meats were Dlaced, in Summer, to keep them cool. "Those three days my little brother hid in this w^ll, while the soldiers were passinr,n she said, "Fore God, Missy,* she exclaimed, *when we got dat little T::*rejr out ob dat well, he had almost turned white!* A.urt Josephine is still a *nurse maid.* She rocks her great- i'rc'-t-^reat-grandchildren. ¦>eV:. Cony Alabama Preston Klein '*& Lee County ¦" ¦ 10111 Jack Kytle Lucindy Lawrence Jurdon bustled feverishly about her tiny Lee County cabin when she learned her picture was "goin1 to be tuk," She got out her old spinning wheel; sat down before it and beamed. Her daughter coming in from the field, exclaimed: wMa, I done tol1 you dis lady was comin* to see you; an1 you wouldn't believe me." After she had posed, she seated herself to tell about slavery days. Her oldest grandson was sick in the next room with pneumonia; the cabin was stuffy and bare. Lucindy said: "Honey, I was boraed in Macon, G-eorgy, on de twenty-eighty day of some month or other; I can't 'member which. But de year was 1858, "My pappy an' mammy, Ekanuel and/Patsy Lawrence, come from Jas- per County, G-eorgy. I had a sister named Jennie an' a brother named Phillip, but I was de oldest, "01' Marster had 'bout three or four hundred acres on his plan- tation. His name was Marster LeBoy Lawrence, and he shorely was good to all us niggers. His daddy was Mr, Billy Lawrence; an' de marster had four chilluns. "Us lived in a two-room log house wid a lean-to next it. Us wac well off in dem times, but us didn't have sense enough to know it. I 'members dat us always had plenty of good victuals, "Honey, us had meat broiled on hot rocks, roasted 'taters, ash- cake an sech. On sunday us had ash-cake cooked in collard leaves; an' beef was served us when de killin' time come. Marster always slved de niggers plenty to eat, A "I can sit here an' picture dat house of marster's; a bl^, six- - 2 - room house wld wide plank weather-boarding. Beside de house was a big garden, and it had palings 'round it# "My mammy was a fine weaver and did de work for both white an' colored, Dis is her spinning wheel, an1 it can still be used, I use it sometimes now. Us made our own cloth an' our stockings, too, "No'm, us neger did learn nothing. If us tried to read or write dey would whack our forefingers off. Us lived forty miles from de town an1 it would take more dan two days to git to town, De women folks had to fix lunches every time dey went. "My grandmammy had sixteen chilluns. I 'members dat when us ./courted us went to walk an' hunted chestnuts. Us would string dem an' put 'em 'round our necks an' smile at our fellers, "On Sattidy nights dey would have dances an' dance all night \long. Somebody would clap hands, beat pans, blow quills or pick de banjer strings. When us had cornshuckin's, dey would pile de corn up, ring 'round it an' shuck, drink likker an' holler: 'Boss man, boss man, please gimme my time; 'Boss man, boss man, fer I'm most broke down, "I 'members dat one ol' sick man was freed 'fore freedom come, / Dey let him go whar he wanted to, so h« dug a hole in de ground an' used it fer a room. He put rafters inside to help hold it up an' it slanted down at de back.1' Lucindy mused a moment, concluded! "Dem was good days, honey; alphty good. But us shorely is in a bad fix now an' needs help mis-hty bad. It Jest ain't de same no more." H.I..D. 7-21-37 Alabama f.^fi^0^i}-ff^:fW] WK9gmi8!g^^ r\ ii'^^^^l^^^^^.^^^'^'f^^'W^ T rr Fritncoii 'Mdgere^lK^ Mobile. John Morgan Smith, Editor. THE FULFILLED WISH OF MAlfllY LUCY KIMBALL. I made two visits to the home of Mammy Lucy Ximball. The first vas during the month of April, 1937,* the next was nearly a month later. Cn the first trip I had a very successful talk with the old Negro woman, 'out on the last, she wasn't at home, and so the information I sought had to v/ait. I was very disappointed that I couldn't see her on my second [venture, but it was impossible. Pmwl'i»jti ¦ 'fca*«S3=*ggteaB Mammy Lucy had not? grown very feeble when I last saw her, and her methodical mode of living can be attributed to her consciousness of the |venerable age of eighty-five years which she had reached. She was born in- to slavery in 1851 at Swift's Landing near the town of Blakeley, in Bald- win County. She was a slave in the Charles Hall family of that county before and during the War between the States. In 1907, she came to work Tor the T. S . Fry and Santos Rubira families of Mobile. Following the War between the States, Mammy Lucy Kimball worked [r. various families at the summer resorts of Baldwin County. When a young girl, Mammy Lucy performed the duties of a children's |urse, and worked as a dining room servant. She had some education, and as h&cl worked in families of refinement and culture all her life, her |&:mer vas that of a well educated person. However, like the average edu- '¦•-•¦ -exi-o, she still displayed the characteristics of the Negro of the ''te-oelium days. She said that she strictly adhered to old fashioned -rc.s, such as: going to church twice a week, not believing in doctors, 1 alv.'ays taking home-concocted remedies. ~ asked her if she believed in carrying a rabbit's foot for luck, ^hin' she responded: Alabama - 2 — 245 "Honey, you don' think I'm like these other Negroes, who still believe'in that old nonsense? I might tell the children that a rabbit foot brings good luck because it is an old custom for superstitious per- sons to carry one, but, honey, you'd have just as good luck if you carried brick-bats in your coat. My white people in Baldwin County never brought it me up to believe in such things. "Welli Mammy iiucy," I asked, "do you remember any strange or weird things that happened during the Civil War?" "Yes," she answered slowly, "I remember during the Civil War some of the mischievous Sibley boys who were kin to the Hall family over in Baldwin County, tied a strange long black thread to the ankle of a black boy named Slow Poke. "Some Negroes were going to town that night to fetch supplies and prnoiK; them was Slow Poke. The boys jokingly asked him if he had his rab- bit foot with him as he might need it to keep the rattling noises away at nirht. Slow Poke showed them his rabbit foo$ and, displaying his -•listening teeth in a broad grin he said that f.f there warn't goin' to be no -hosties atter him.' The boys deftly tied a string to Slow ^oke's enhle v:'.iile some flf their friends held his attention. On this string were f.ttr>c-;ed three cow bladders. Slow Poke hadn't gone far when he heard the blfVors rattling at his heels. He immediately decided that there was ? v" oie troop of ghosts after him, and so began to hit his fastest gait Mr-.-, the middle of the dark road. He ran till he reached Montgomery Hill ? dies distant, where the string finally wore out. His people didn't "''" vi"; till three days later. Then they took him home and gave him a ;nd '.vhipping for running away." I-ar.imy LUCy talked of the Hall and Sibley families and of the r"-' that they once had, and what happiness she found in being slave to c- _ood people. She remembered all the summer resorts on the eastern Alabama t - 3 - 246 Phore of Mobile Bay when they were in their glory before the Civil War, and how the Mobile ferries landed bringing over all the fashionable Mo- bile families to their summer homes on the bay. She remembered hearing frther Ryan, the poet-priest of the south, preaching at the dedication of the Catholic Church at Montrose and the storm in the f70fs v/hich almost demolished Alabama City (no?; Fairhope). She recalls the landing of the Confederate troops at Hollywood for wood when they left Mobile at the outbreak of the war on their way to Fort Sickens, Florida,to enter active service. I found Mammy Lucy to be neat and prim as she must have been thirty --errs ago, when she first went to work for the Fry and Rubira families* She still walks with the agility of a young person, and her rind is fer- tile with fresh thoughts and with the deeds of the past. flI have found happiness,* she said. "People have been, good to me and I, in return, h?ve tried to be kind to those around me. I have lived a plain life and have been rev/arded with a ripe age that still finds me feeling young. I shall never grow old in my thoughts and actions, but always keep a place in rr.y mind to welcome something new. I will have had a complete life if T- cm live only two weeks longer. There is something Ifd like to see." After a few more minutes I left her and returned home. There was sv;ethin- I wanted to ask Mammy Lucy; something that preyed on my mind i* ciays* I wanted to ask her what the thing was that she wanted to see. b'^ "T'S so gentle and courteous; my interest seemed officious prying in- - *-''jr pffairs. Someday I shall go to see her again, I decided^and bring ." -''^ subject casually. Then shefll never know of my unworthy-curiosity. \ 'Three weeks later I walked to the door of Mammy Lucy18 cabin and n r-r: -oorch stood a Negro girl watering a few pots of flowers. "Is Llammy Lucy at home?" I asked. Alabama - 4 - The girl was silent for a moment, then she spoke in a high-pitched .'Mning voice: "Mammy Lucy, she died." "Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "When did she die?" "Fo1 days ago,"' was the reply. I walked down the path of pebbles toward the bay. The question .¦Quid never be answered^,but I knew that Mammy Lucy died content. "r8s:'i. Copy, 6/ a/4/37. Li* ii» Alabama Mary A. Poole 248 „ , Mobile, Ala. .4 C^\V v "SATAN DONE GOT DIS ^" JUKING GENERATION" Ellen King lives in a two room cabin nestling back in the woods near Mauvilla, Ala., about twelve miles above Mobile. A little Negro boy led me along a circuitous path to the ex-slave, showing the weight of her 86 years. After talking awhile she became interested and told that she was born at Enterprise, Miss, on the plantation of Mr. and Mrs. Harvey., but could not recall their given names, or the names of their children, of which there were three, two girls and one boy. They lived in a big white house and the cabins in the slave quarters were built of planks, with streets between and. little gardens in front of them. Some planted vegetables and others flowers. The Harveys were good masters, they had plenty to eat, and ~ood homespun clothes to wear and home-tanned leather shoes. The women gathered leaves, bark, and indigo to dye the cloth to make their dresses of different colors. The plantation was* large and had several slaves. Aunt Ellen, however, could not recall the number of acres or the number of slaves, but knew there was a crowd of them. The Har- vey's raised wheat, cotton and corn, and lots of live stock. Aunt Ellen sat , quiet for a few moments and said: "Lady, when I sits and thinks of all the good things us had «o eat and all the fun we had 'course we had to work, but you knows lady, when a crowd all works together and sings and laughs, first thing you knows work's done." Aunt Ellen recalled the Yankees coming through and telling Alabama - 2 - all the slaves they were free, and that a lot of the slaves went with them, but Aunt Ellen laughed and said: "My Pa and some of the others got scared and hid in a big cave and just stayed there until the soldiers left, and, lady, he still stayed on atter the war with the Harveys, and I was married there in the white folks church. They gave me a big wedding, lots to eat, plenty of music, singing and dancing. Jest like they used to say, we danced all night to broad daylight.1" Aunt Ellen was asked how many times she was married and she replied: "Twice, first one dead and don!t know where t*other is, and had no children by either." When asked about religion Aunt Ellen said: "Lady, I prayed and prayed and religion came to me, and I jlned the Big Zion Methodist Church, in Mobile, ' Ala., but moved here to Mauvilla where there was no Methodist Church, so I jined the Baptist Church." Aunt Ellen says the people of today are going back not for- ward. "All they study is idleness and to do devilment these days. Young generation done gone, Satan got 'em, too much 'Juking' these days, have no time to study 'bout the Lord and their dying clay. All they do, is Juke, juke, JukeJ When They closed the schools up here in Mauvilla, they had children all juking. The writer was somewhat at a loss to know just what Aurtt -lien meant by "juking," but thought best to let her talk on and not -ake a direct inquiry, and after a little Auflt Ellen continued: "No, lady, we used to call flggers for our dancing, had a big fiddle and two small fiddles, and a set in one room and one in t'other. None of this twisting and turning. I just can't stand 249 Alabama - 3 - 250 all that juking, Just won't look at it." By "Juking" Aunt Ellen meant rough dancing of the generation of today. Aunt Ellen firmly believes the old-time religion was best for all, and tried to sing in a wavering voice the following: "Down by the river side, Jesus will talk and walk, Ain't going to study the world no more, Ain't going to study the world no more, For down by the river side, Jesus^ will talk and walk." BIBLIOGRAPHY: Personal conversation with Aunt Ellen King, Mauvllla, Ala. R.L.D. 9-9-37 Alabama Daphne L. 13. durtis, Fairhope, Alabama. Deiaps A. Oden, Editor. THE ORPHAN SLAVE-GIRL / /1 In the suburbs of Fairhope, in a rough but neatly-kept cottage of two rooms, lives ^andyK>eslie, a hard-working Negro woman whose energy belies the seventy-seven years to which she credibly lays claira. Twice widowed and her children scattered to the winds, Mandy is a pillar of strength and comfort to several white households, where she nelies weekly calls to ©are fan? the laundy work, "wash and iron," as she/ calls it. The washing is done in the back yards, where a hot fire under an iron pot boils the garments to a state that permits Mandy1s rubbing over a fluted wash-board to make them spotless. Strung on lines in the sun, the clothes are ready for ironing next day. Using old-fashioned sadirons, heated at an open fire, Mandy turns out a "done-up" product that any modern laundry might envy. During the ironing process, which takes place in the hall or a spare room, the distress of the house is entertained with a steady stream of biography, cement, and information from the lonely old woman who relishes this opportunity to talk to somebody, especially if there happens to be a visitor who is hot familiar with her story. A typical episode runs Ii':r. this: 11-assub, I 'members de war, but I don't lak no wars. Dey give f';]'•:,:,J: raste no more money on insho'ance, no ma1 ami f,I had a hard time keeping my chillun and working de crap too; but -lies, he flow me a mule, jes1 lak he do Taylor ffore he died, and us > .^v.r hags of cotton de fust year and five bags de nex1 year^ I piclfc I® jc^r loci: of lt mySeif _ je8i me an^ &em little chilluns. "Den Rufus he come along and he thought us had all de insho'ance ¦T, rrad. he court me so hard and so reg!lar dat I act a fool and married ¦'¦> -na he turn out to be de no-countest nigger dat ever lived. fStead of r; ? sorting me, us had to support him for nigh 'bout ten year, me and c'iil".un. He had a misery in he back, and couldn't do no hard work lak lovir.;; rnd hoeing• It hirt he back to pick cotton and pull fodder, and ^s1 ?et 'roun' and make a few baskets and eat lak a hoss. »rillis Biles he died, and he boy, Mr. Joe, he took de place and ¦¦:.*. ^ Alabama r?^?^f£ffi^ run it for he ma* Mr. Joe told %f^s 't^nrt nothing de matter wid him but dawn lazy, and if he don't git out and he1 p me work, he gonna set de* £u Klux on him. Den us got scared and moved nigh 'bout to Uniontown, and ..... fus live wid Mr. Bob Simmons for seben years hand-running, and he treat us right every fall 'bout de settlement. Mr. Bob he say 'tain't nothing de Batter wid Rufus jes' lak Mr. Joe say, and Rufus say he gwine moverto torn whar he kin git work to suit him. "Us move to town, and Rufus he ^one all dey looking for a job [ A and don't find nothing to suit hira. I has to take in washing from de white folks to feed us and dey charge two dollars rent for de little shack us live in. 'Twan't right to do dat; 'cause I ain't never paid no house- rent in all my bo'n days, twell den. And de fust t'ing I know, dat trif- ling Rufus he done sell de mule and wagon and got drunk and lost -de res' of de money. Us was sho' in a bad fix./ Why didn't I quit Rufus? ^assum, T 'spects I ought to done dat; but he so humble when he sober up and pray so strong. He say de Lord done call him outen he meanness and he gwine preach Jesus. He make lak he need dem preacher clothes, and us skimped alon: p.nd saved 'nough to buy Rufus de suit of clothes wid a long-tail coat. He got a high-up hat rand a Bible, and he sho did look gran'. Us v;?s proud to see hira all fix up and going out to labor in de vineyard of Ide Lord. / "Us give Rufus de las' t'ree dollars us could scrape/up and he got \^f de train and went to Mon'goraery, but us ain't seen hair nor hide of at nipper sence. In 'bout a year us got a letter ffi^hira in Juliet, \ /\ "aviin in Illinois, wharever dat is, and he say he in de pen'tenshry for e- rear, 'cause dey 'scuse hira stealing a woman's Jew'lry, and would I et ...p. Eiies and %. Simmons to do what dey can to get him out. He re- ent and been washed in de blood of de ^amh sence he been in Jail. And ne ?r.-- ±f anybody write me dat he runned off from Mon'gomery wid 'nother Alabama - 4 - v;o:;ian and dat he got a wife in Chicago, it's a lie. "Dat fix me wid dat triflin1 nigger, and Mr. Sara Broady, what's a laY.yer, he got me a 'vorceraent and gin rae back ray fust name, Leslie. Now I's t1 rough wid marrying. My chillun done all gone and got married, and i come back here whar I come froia. ¦ -ffwix1 .here and Brantley, is de place. "How old I is? I was five year old, come de Surrender- how old icat :na?.e me? Sebenty-seben? Dat' s right and I be sebenty-SB^pwi dis time //^ [nex1 year. How I know I be living dis time nex' year? 'Cose, I will be [living! 1 always notice dat when I lives t'rough March, I lives de res' |of de year, and ain't March jes' now gone, huh? "How de way wais' ironed suit you, Missy?" [ipsh. Copy, Alabama . / Mary A. Poole, Mobile 0 „ / Mary A. Poole, Mobile cy~~ \s John Morgan Smith. ^DD DELLIE LEWIS KNOWS OURES AND "CONJEE." "To begin at de beginnin', white folks," said Dellie Lewis, "I me bawn on de plantation of Winston Hunter at Sunflower in Washington County, Alabama. Its on de Southern Railroad. De fus' thing dat I re- r.ie:ibers was when de Gran1 Trunk Railroad cut dere right of way through near Sunflower. Dey had a chain gang of prisoners dat warn't slaves avrorlvin1 on de road, an' me an' anudder little nigger gal was sont wid i bix cans of buttermilk to sell 'em. One day a handsome white gentman rode to our house an' axe me fo* a drink of cool water. He was de fo'- nan on de road. Jus' as soon as I handed it to him he done fell offen his hoss on de groun'. I run to de Mistis an' she got some of de niggers 'roun1 de place to ca'ay de gent.'man to de big house, m ' do you /-now it, white folks, dat man, he neber open his eyes again! He kep- pa callin' de liistis his mammy, but he neber open his eyes to see dat s'.ie v.arn't his mammy. He died a little later wid a congested chill. "Den I remembers one of de Alabama River floods, dat swep' ober le Ian' an' washed away lots of de food. De government sont some sup- plies of meat, meal an' 'lasses. De barrels was marked U. S. an' one nir;er, bein1 tired of waitIn1 an1 bein' powerful hongry tol' us dat "e 1. 8., on de barrel meant Us, so us commence' to eat. When de ober- .sesr come to gib us de meat an' 'lasses, us be done et it all up. "Us slaves useta git up at dawn; de oberseer blowed a cow hawn to call -;.e to work. De Hunter slaves was 'lowed to go avisitin' udder slrves atter work hours an' on Sundays, an' iffen we was to meet a patty- roller. an1 he axe us whar we f'urn an' who we b'long to all us had to 8ay v:as-'.;i4's %nter niggers; an1 dat pattyroller didn't do nothin', '%ze de Hunter niggers warn't neber whupped by no pattyroller. Some Alabama - 2 - Qra niggers when dey was kotched eben dough dey warn't Hunter niggers, dey'd say it jus' de same, <&aze dera pattyrollers was always 'fraid to fool 'long wid a Hunter nigger. Massa Hunter, he was somp'n1. "Durin1 de Christmas celebration, us all had gif *s. Us had * quilting bee's wid de white folks, an' iffen a white- gent'man thowed i a quilt ober a white lady he was 'titled to a kiss an' a hug #um her. Atter de celebratsin1 we all had a big supper. X "An1 speakin' of cures, white folks, us niggers had 'em. My crandraammy was a midwife an' she useta gib- women cloves an1 whiskey to ease de pain. She also gib 'em dried watermelon seeds to git rid of de grabel in de kidneys. For night sweats Grandmammy would put an axe under de bed of de sick pus eon wid de blade asittin' straight up. An' iffen yo1 is sick an' wants to keep de visitors away, jus' putt a fresh laid aig in front of de do* an' dey won't come in. If you is anxious fo' yo' sweetheart to come back f'urn a trip put a pin in de 5'roun' wid de point up an' den put a aig on de point. When all de inside s runs out en de aig yo' sweetheart will return.^ "Yassuh, white folks, us useta hab games. Us useta play;'puss in de cawner}'next do' neighbor' an* 'fox an' geese.1 I kin gib you some of de songs we useta sing» "Old sweet beans and barley grows, Old sweet beans an1 barley grows, You nor I nor nobody knows, Where old sweet beans an' barley grows." "Go choose yo' east. Go choose yo' wes , Go choose de one dat you love best, If she's not here to take her part, Choose de nex' one to yo' heart." "I is always been a 'piscopalian in belief, white folks. I Vied Bill Lewis when I was fifteen year old in Montgomery an' us had taree chilluns. I is strong in my faith. Alabama - 3 - 257 MIn mercy, not in wrath, Rebuke me, gracious Lawd Les' when By whole displeasure rise, I sink beneath Dy rod." "Yassuh, I remembers de war. I seed de Yankees amarchin' through our place an1 down de road dat led to Portland in Dallas County. Dey was mighty fine looking wid all dere brass buttons and nice lookin' uniforms. Dey didn't gib us much trouble. Dey had a Cap'n dat was good an1 kin1. I heered him say dat dere warn't agoin1 to be no stealin1 a\' atrampin' through folks' houses. Dey slep' outen de yard for one nir;nt; den dey went on in to Portland. "Mr. Munger was our. oberseer, but he had money of his own. He was better dan mos* oberseers, an' dere warn't no po' white trash, dem onery buckers libed further back in de woods. "When us was sick Dr. Lewis Williams, who was de doctor of de nassa, 'tended to us slaves. I remembers sittin' in de doctor's lap v/hile he tried to soothe my ailments. "Us house servants was taught to read by de white folks, but my rvran'-mammy, Alvain Hunter, dat didn't have no learnin' but dat knowed de Bible backards an' farwards, made us study. When me an' my brother rcas learnin' outen de Blue Back Speller she say: "'How's dat? Go ober it.' "Den we would laugh an1 answers 'How you know? You can't read.'' "'Jus' don't soun' raght. De Lawd tell me when its raght. You-all can't fool me so don't try.' "When de marriages was preformed, de massa read de ceremony an' £e couples would step off over a broomstick for luck. Den we all had a oIq supper, an' dere was music an' dancin' by de plenty." ^ash. Copy, 5/26/37. L. H. Alabama r John Proctor Mills,. 1Ira S> Jordan,-. 1 {\\ O'-v Editorial flepartment. "LIGKTCTT' .» Ignorant of the date of his birth, which occurred at Cahaba the old State capital. Lightnin1 was an overgrown, gangl- ing youth of fourteen or thereabouts when the Civil War began, lorn into slavery, he was the property of one Joel Latthews, cotton planter, whose fields lay near the then new capital city, tLightnin1 is happiest when spinning some yarn of the old davs for an interested audience, and when one such inauired as to how he came to be called "Lightnin1," the old man broke into c toothless grin and launched at once into another of the stories '"ear to his heart, "Bat's M&ssa Joel's doin's, boss. I jist natcherly wai'nt neb or any too peart an fas' on my fo-ots, an de fus' thing Massa -eel eber sot me to fetch him was a cool drink o' water. De \:ater clone got wa'm 'fo' I brung it to him, an stid'er scoldin, he Jist bus' out laffin' an say: "Boy, you is so slow I gwineter call you after the fas'est thing on earth. Frum now on yo1 nar-e is Lightnin'." An I been Lightnin* eber since. Cofse I i::.cv;ec1 i-^assa Joel was throw in1 off on me, lil' as I was, but it looks lak I wa'nt bawn in no big hurry an I jist been movin'long -lo.v-like eber since. "liassa Joel musta been bawn on a sunshiny day 'cause he 1 ~;-o' was bright an' good natured. Eber nigger on de place love -1- lak he was sont from Eeaben. iios' eber day he come to de "i'uukters v/id de famhly doctor to look atter de niggers, fer he -V a well-fed, healthy nigger, next to a mule, is de bes1 proper- ation a man kin 'ves1 his money in." An' us slaves fared as - a - good as anybody* *Haw suht Massa J-oel ain't neber hit me a lick in his life. He say a well nigger whut doan wuhk, sho ain't got no( eats an care comin' his way, an ought*er be sont down de Mibber. "Is I been mahHd? las suh. I done had for wives, an' raise 'leben chillun. But * taint lak in de ole days. Chillun all gone, an de ole nigger got no white folks, makes it mighty hand to git along . *Bout all de ole man kin do is fish an I CEoes dat an gits a li'l somp'.in to eat. 'Fo young Hassa lorn passed on- he was Massa Joel's boy- I ainlt neber wanted fer nothin'V I was Massa Tomrs body guard. Us hunted an fished together, play- ed wid de white chillun an sometimes I rid behin* him on de hoss, 03? on de fore seat wid de ca'iage driver when de fambly went to C;-U'chctt /.-¦ "But dat's all in de pas', an de good Lawd say no man kin bring back de pas'. So I reckon, ef you all *11 'scuse me, I better go fish my trot_line an git somp'in to make WB skillit smell." '•.:asli. Copy, 4/22/37. 1j • il * tl?2?iM J. Morgan Smith, Editorial B&partment. > HE Qkmp AHMJS. £Q& .'N ' .. ¦ -PREglDEETT BUC3aAHHM» On a bright April afternoon, while strolling along the Louis- ville and lashville banana wharf and watching the crisp breezes from the gulf make small waves lick at the pilings, I met an old iiegro man who was fishing for croakers off the pier. He had, sitting beside him, a basket containing wicker canes for making and repairing chairs. In the course of our conversation, I asked him his age. HI'se eighty year old, white folks,* he replied* r»/ell,*v I said, **you must have been a slave back in the days HTi "oex ore the war*" / ( "Yassuh, boss* I were eight year old when Gen'l Grant freed Ce niggers." )He spoke the words in a clear, strong voice and with c slight rolling motion of his gray bristly head. "But General (&»ant didn't free the slaves,' Uncle,B I protested.) "Oil, yassuh he did too, white folks,* he said respectfully; i'o1 I wus right dere when de genfl come into Richmond and sot us fiaa It — J. \^ V_ % ,r.7Iiat about Abraham Lincoln?1* I asked. "Viell, I guess he done a part of it, but he didn't do no :-iJitiri,5 kaze he hadda 'tend to de business in de White House. He. lef de freein' part to Gen'l Grant. X don' guess Mr. Abe lived loiij enough ter help us niggers much. He went to de Fork's 0 ire us l'^C. ^ot hisse'f shot."/ ""what's your name?* I asked. "Billy Abraham Longslaughter. De niggers all calls me Billy, -^ ole Llassa Longslaughter afore he died called me Ulliam.* Alabama '¦ :rv/¦¦^^;v^^^^||^ "Where were you born, TSs^cle Billy?11 "On ole Massa Longslaughter*s plantation near Kiehinond ¥irginny. "Can you read and write?0 "Dey neber teach me no readin1 and writin* k&ae 1 had to work In de fields.11 His rusty hand rubbed across his wooly head, as/my uestions continued with the regularity of- a metronome:) neverthe- less, Uncle Billy seemed alv/ays glad to answer them. I couldn't - help but notice with what ease he moved about. He had the agility of a man twenty years his Junior though his face -being caverned uitii wrinkles, gave him the appearance of great age. "VJhere is your home now, Itocle Billy?* I continued. "Lost any place I goes, white folks. Ma wife, she died 'bout forty year ago in Virginny, and I been a trabelin' eber since." "".That do you do for a living besides fish?* I &&ked. "Oh," he said, "I canes a few chairs," pointing to his basket of chair-canes beside him on the stringer of the wharf. "You see, -./hits folks, when all dis repression came on an' dere war'n,t no uori; fo1 de people tuh do, jes lak all de young scallawags I hops . e a train and goes on a trip.1' J "..here do you go next, Uncle Billy?" "Jell, I guess I mought run ober to Hew Orleens if I can catch -.e a freight train a goin1 dat away." "About your fixing chairs," I said. "Have you ever repaired z-'~i for well known people?" "Lor1, white folks, I caned a chair oncet fo1 President Buc- ----^i and he used it ter sit on in de White House. I'se made many *¦ chair fo' famous people as I traveled about. I guess I jus' keep 011 a join1 as long as I'se able, and when I goes on dat last trip Alabama - 3 - Pt?o across de quiet riber, I'se go in1 ter make one for ole Gabriel, so's he can res.1 hisself in between times he blows on dat hawn." v;ash. Copy, i/27/37. .J • .»-• Alabama David Holt *~ Mobile PSYCHOLOGY OP A RUNAWAY SLAVE Of course you know that we always called the older colored men "Uncle" and the older colored women "Aunt," It was proper manners. Old "Uncle" Louis was the oldest slave on the plantation, "Uncle" Toby having died, Louis was a "Guinea nigger," His ancestors had been brought from the Guinea coast of Africa, He had the characteristic marks of his tribe, being short, strong and very black, with heavy neck, thick lips, flat nose and eyes like those of a hog. He had great knowledge of wild plants, claimed to understand the language of birds and beasts. He prided himself on his powers as a hunter and also claimed intimate friendship with ghosts and spooks. Being what was known as a "yard servant," he had picked up much of the talk of his white masters and spoke his own version of their language. Old Louis was what was called a "runaway nigger." He would run away in the latter part of the summer once in every two or three years and come back in time to help dig sweet potatoes, I was out in the sweet potato patch one morning when he returned. The doctor was there, also. When Louis walked up he simply said, "Hello, Louisj are you well?" "Yas sir, Marster," "Well, take that basket and go to picking up potatoes," Not a word was said about his running away. After the hands had knocked off work and Louis was sitting In front of his cabin, I went to him Alabama - 2 - for an Interview. "Uncle Louis, what makes you run away? You don't get whipped of abused in any way," The old slave scratched his grizzled head, puffed at his clay pipe and pondered the subjeet for some time before he replied: "Marse Davie, I does cause de woods seems to call me. When de fall insee's is slngln* in de grass an' the •Simmons is gettin' soft an' de leaves Is beglnnin' to turn, I Jes natcherly has ter go, De wild sloes, de red haws an1 de crab apples is ripe, De walnuts an de hickory nuts an de beach mast drapplh' an de blue smoke comes over de woods, an de woods birds an de yard birds goes souf wid de cranes an ducks an wll' geese an de blackbirds an de crows goes In droves - it seem lack all dat is Jes callin' me," "Where do you go?" I asked, "Lorsy, Marse Davie, I never goes off de plantation. I always go to de woods back o' de past'er. Ole Master knows whar I is an so does Henry. Don't you know dat holler dat come down on de leff han' side of de branch - de fus holler you comes to, not more dan two hundred yards in de woods?" I knew it well. "Don't you 'member a big green oak tree growln1 on de right han1 side of de holler bout a hunder yard up de path?" "Well, sir, dat tree is my home. I done toslted some poles an some sedge gress up dar an made me a bed - but you can't see it from de groun'. When I gets up dar I can see all 'roun'. I seen you an Marse Joe de las' time you go fishin'. I lays dar all day and listen to de birds an critters talkin'. A chicadee tole me you was comin' long befo' I seen you. Den a Jay bird caught a sight of you an he Alabama - 3 - ^65 tole me, Can't nobody come along widout de birds tellin' me. Dey pays no min' to a horse or a dog but when dey spies a man dey speaks, I done tame' a squi'l so he comes see me ever1day, "De birds an critters sho is good comp'ny. I done made frens wid up all but de owl and de hawk, Dey is Jes natchally bad an de other critters hates 'em, A ole red-breast1 hawk come an lit in a daid pine tree, I seen him so plain til I knowed what he was thinkln* about. He was Jes mad clean down in his craw and was cussin1 ever1 thin'? A little pewee bird seen him an begin to fuss, A crow fly over and hear de pewee, den fly down close an take a good look at mister hawk den he fly up and start callin' de other crows. In a little while a whole drove of crows is flyin1 'roun dat pine tree. Den de Jay birds come an dey is callin* for a fight, but de ole hawk never move. Den de mocking birds come an dey sair right in and starts pecking at de hawk until he dove into de woods and gets away, an all de birds begin to talkin' fbout bugs an things." The old man was wound up for an interminable talk on his favorite theme, the talk of critters, and to change the subject I \ asked: "Uncle Louis ain't you afraid of ghosts?" "Lor', chile, I ain't feared of no ghos' or spook, as I'e | seed lots of both. All a ghos' do is Jes show hise'f. You never | hear of one doin' no thin' to nobody, Dey is sociable an wants to be | near livin' people. When folks gets scared it hurts do ha'nt's i | feelin's an dey goes somewhere else, Dey has all de feelin's dey had when dey was livin'. You wouldn't stay by wid folks dats fear'd of you an want to run away from where you is, "Las' night, when I was up in my nes', an my fire had died out, Alabama - 4 - all 'sept one little chunk, an de moon was shinin' like day, I lay down, I did, an I take a 11*1 nap o' sleep. Den I wakes up sudden an looks froun ag'in. Well, sir, de norf side of de hill was covered wid ghoses an spooksjdey was layin' down, standin1 up and leanln' agin trees, but mos'ly dey was Jes sittin' on de groun', all lookin' at me hard as dey could, widout battln' an eye, "De neares' one to me was a little white ooman. She war sittin* flat on de groun1, holdin' a baby in her lap. She look mighty pitiful an I say 'please Missis, can I hope you an yo baby?- I'd be bleeged if you tell me.* Her lips move but I couldn't hear no sound. Den I lay me down an drap off to sleep agin. When I wakes up de ghosses is all dere an de little white ooman look lak she want to say somethin', but can't, an I say, 'I aln' nothln' but a poor runaway nigger, but my Marster is a mighty kin' man, he'll sholy hep you; but she didn't say nothin* an I goes back to sleep, De next time I wakes up de sun was risin' an I Jes lays dere an watches de ghosses an spooks got thin an fade away like a fog," _____—-^"' 266 The old Hegro was sitting in the twilight, talking in a low, impressive monotone, in a language we both understood but which I find difficulty in transcribing after all these years that intervene, A screech owl was "miseryflying" in the family grave yard back of the quarters, a fitting abligato to the narrative. Though creepy sensations crawled up my spine, I still had my doubts. "Uncle Louis, do you really believe you saw all that, and didn't dream it while you were curled up in your nest?" I asked. The old man seemed aggrieved at my doubts as he replied: ¦ Alabama - 5 - <$h ( "It ain't no beleevln' about it, I knows what I knows an I sees what I sees, De ghos1 is what lives when de body is done wore out, but it don't die.M "It's all imagination,tt I said, in defense of reason and nature, as I understood these things. "I wants to ax you what does de imaginih1 ? It's your ghos' that does the imagin' so you can see other ghosses an spooks,H In recognition of Louis' knowledge and powers of reasoning my brother William wrote a diploma in Latin and presented it to him, 4fter that he was called ttDoctor,,Louis, I recall that it was about that time that I read a book on psychology but later discovered that there were those on the plantation who had a better working knowledge of the subject than was taught in the book. Bibliography: Old Plantation Days, an unpublished work by the Venerable David Sired Holt, late Archdeacon of the Sacremento Diocese, (Protestant Episcopal) of California and a native of Buffalo Plantation, near Natchez, Mississippi. Alabama John Morgan Smith (Photo) A WHUPPIN' WID DE TRIMMIN»S "Mornin' Boss,¦ said uncle Tom McAlpin, "how is you dis morn- ,i.^ ,^,r <-—___—_---------------- in'?H The old^slave spoke cordially with a definite twinkle in his muddy eyes though his age had passed the forfscore and ten mark. His mind was alert; his memory vivid, and his faculties of speech quite unusual. Tom McAlpin was indeed a remarkable man. There was really a sincere note of welcome in his voice as he came forward, placed a large piece of cast-iron pipe against the steps of his house, 1928 Ave. D. 30., Birmingham, and looked up at me showing a mouth of straggly teeth in a warm smile. "Yassuh," he continued in his high-pitched voice after our salutations, "I'll be glad to serve you as bes' I kin wid my know- ledge of de pas' years. Jus* you set down in dat chair," he pointed to what was left of an ante-bellum wicker seat; "I'll set on dese steps an1 us* 11 go over de whole thing from de beginnin*s. "Fug* thing I guess you wants to know is whar an' when I was born. Yassuh, an* who I b'long to. Well, Boss, I was born in Martersville, Alabamy. Dat1 s five miles southwest of Talladega* I come into dis ole worl' on a sunny day in June, eighteen fawty fo', I belonged to Dr. Augustus McAlpin, an' from dat day to dis, I is seed many things come an1 go, an* I is aimin' to see a lot mo1 befo' I cross to de udder side. "De docta Jjas' had a small plantation, »bout 100 acres, I s'pose, an' he didn't have but 12 slaves, ' caze dere warn't no need for no mo'. He was busy in town adoctorin1 folks* He didn't have no time to do any real farmin'. "My job aroun' de place was to nuss de chilluns, white an1 nigger. We all played «roun' together. Sometimes we play coon an1 rabbit, fox an1 houn' and snatch, but what was de mostes' fun was a- 288 Alabama - 2 - ridin* ole Sut. Sut was a donkey an1 us useta hitch him to a wagon, an' six of de chilluns would ride in de wagon an1 I'd ride on his back. Sometimes us'd ride all de way into Talladega wid Sut. "Nawsuh I ain't neber got no whuppin' but one, an' it was a sho' 'nough complete one, boss, wid all de trimmin's. It all happened when de Massa told me he better not cotch dem hogs in de corn, an' iffen he did, I was agoin' to git a whuppin'. Well, boss, dere was one ole hog dat I Jus' couldn't keep outten dere so I tuk a needle an' sewed up his eyes. 'Course I was jus' a little black •un an1 didn't know whut I was adoin', but I sho' sewed up dat hogs eyelids so's he couldn't see no thin' • Dat kep' him outten de corn all raght, but when de Massa found it out he gave me a lickin' dat I ain't forgot yit. Boss, dat was de onlies' lesson I ever needed in my life. It done de wuk. BYassuh, dere was pattyrollers 'roun* our place, but dey never coached me, 'caze I was too swif for 'em. Boss, I could take holt of a hosses tail an' run 'roun' de pasture an' keep up wid him. I was sho' fas' on my feets. "Nawsuh, us wan't never given no money for nothin', but I learnt how to make baskets an' I would take 'em in to Talladega on Sat'day evenings an' sell 'em to de white folks for fifteen cents. Den when I needed somp'n lak 'bacca or a little piece of chocolate, 1 could go to de sto' an' buy it. Lots of slaves on yuther planta- tions warn't 'lowed to make any money dough. "Nawsuh, I ain't never had no schoolin', 'ceptln' what I could Sit outen de little white folks' books myself. Us niggers useta | tote dere books to school for 'em an1 on de way I would look in I de book an' git a little leamin'. "~nen us niggers on de McAlpin place etA us et raght at de same Alabama - 3 - ^/U table dat de white folks et at. Atter dey finished dere meal, us slaves would sit down raght atter dem an' eat de same kinda food, Yassuh. "Sho' I 'members de war. I 'members when de war commence, Jeff Davis called for volunteers; den a little later when de south needed mo' mens to fight, Jeff Davis' officers would go th'ough de streets, an1 grab up de white mens an' put ropes 'roun1 dere wrists lak dey was takin1 'em off to jail. An1 all de while dey was jus' takin' »em off to de war. Dey made all de white mens go. It was called de 'scription. Some niggers went too. Dem niggers fought raght side of dere masters. Some went as body guards an' some went as soldiers. "Yassuh, Boss, I recalls de time dat de 'federate soldiers, bless dere souls, hid dere few hosses in de basement of de old Masonic Institute in Talladega an' hid dere amunition in de hollow stone pillars. Gen'l Wilson an' his raiders come th'ough dar, but dey never did fin' dem 'Federate supplies. Dem Yankees jus' lak to scare eve'ybody roun' de place to death. Dey shot up de town an' dea blue coats tuk everything we had: cotton," sugar, flour, hams, preserves, clothes, corn; eve'ything, Boss, eve'ything. Dey even • burned up some houses. < "But Boss, dere ain't never been nobody afightin' lak our 'Federates done, but dey ain't never had a chance. Dere was jes' too many of dem blue coats for us to lick. I seen our 'Federates ?o of laughln' an' gay; full of life an' health. Dey was big an' ^ strong, asingin' Dixie an' dey jus knowed dey was agoin' to win. p| ^ If ^' boss, I seen 'em come back skin an1 bone, dere eyes all sad an' |i II nollow> an' dere clothes all ragged. Boss, dey was all lookin' sic/.. Be sperrit dey lef' wid jus' been done whupped outten dem, 271 Alabama - 4 - but it tuk dem Yankees a long time to do it. Our 'Federates was de bes1 fightin' men dat ever were. Dere warn't nobody lak our 'Federates* "I was in Richmond dat cold day dat Gen'l Lee handed his sword over to de yuther side, an' I seen Jeff Davis when he made a speech 'bout startin' over. I seen de niggers leavin' dere homes an' awander- ln' off into de worl' to God knows whar, asayin' good-bye to dere white folks, an' atryin' to make dere way de bes' dey kin. But, white boss, it jes' seem lak you let a nigger go widout a boss an' he jes1 no good. Dere ain't much he kin do, 'caze dere ain't nobody to tell him. Yassuh, I was sont to Richmond to bring home some of our wounded Federates. Dey sont me 'caze dey knowed I was agoin' to do my bes1, an' caze dey knowed I warn't afeered of nothin'. Dat's de way I've always tried to be, white boss, lak my white people what raised me. i God bless 'em. j Wash. Copy I R.L.D. I 7-10-37 Alabama Preston Klein, Qpell&a Jack Kytle, Editor- 101.12. 7 I SHOUTED THREE DAYS (photo) Bible records place Anne Maddox's age at 113. She lives in a tiny cabin with her youngest child, Zora, about eight miles from Cpeliks. She is very feeble now and had to be wheeled out on the front, porch to have her picture made. Anne lives exclusively in the* past. To her, the present world is "full of de devil an1 gettin1 worser every day." She likes I to talk about the old days, but her voice is feeble and barely above \ p whisper. "I'se heerd a heap o' talk 'bout Lir. Abraham Lincoln," she ££..id, "an1 I had a picture of him onc't; but I don't know nothin' , 'bout him." Anne ts-kes her religion seriously and is devoutly confident th:t she will "inherit de promise." i "I jined de church in Gold Hill, Alabama," she recalled, " an' *l ^or^j, I felt so good I don't know jest how I did feel. I shouted " ¦ three o.rys an' wouldn't eat a bite. I couldn't even drink water." The old slave was born in Virginia in 1824 and belonged to -Toxji uiford. She was later sold to Bill Maddox, of Alabama. r.'."ien I come from Virginny," she said, "us travelled in wagons .c. slept in tents. Eve'y mornin' us was made to clean ourselves n' cress up; den us wuz put on de block an' bid on. White peoples • c acre from everywhere; de face of de earth was covered by dem. ~ : thirteen den, an' I kin remember four wars. "Ly mother and fsther was Charlie an1 Rhody Heath, an* I had v..o brothers en' two sisters. Our houses was lak horse stables; • ''-'- of logs wid mud an' sticks dobbed in de cracks. Dey had no :}™*%%w:~.?-:?^'&«iy>- Alabama - *¦¦%" ¦:¦ '* floors. Dere warn't no furniture loept a box fer de dresser wid a piece of looking glass to look in. Us had to sleep on shuek matr* tresses an' us cooked on big fireplaces wid long hooks out over ae fire to hang pots on to bile. "Us fried on three-legged skillets over de fire an' cooked ash-cakes on de hearth wid hickory leaves on de bottom nex1 to de hearth. 'Tain't no sech good cookin' nqw as den. '"Bout four o'clock in de evenin' all de little niggers was called up in de big yard where de cook had put milk in a long wooden trough an1 crumbled ash-cake in it. Us had pot licker in de trough, too. Us et de bread an1 milk wid shells an' would use our hands, but it was good, "01' Marster hunted a heap, but ms never did git none of what he Drought in. Us had plenty..of clothes, sich as was, but dey was spun an1 wove at home. Us had home-made shoes, hard brogans, called •Jackson ties.1 Dey had brass caps on de toe an' would rub blisters on c.e feet. "De plantation had several hundred acres. I was up wid de fust li.:ht to draw water and help as house^girl. When dat task was done I had to go to de fiel*. Dey blew a big hawn to 'rouse de slaves in de Liornin's, sometimes 'fore day. "l-Iarster was good to us niggers, dough. He never 'lowed us to oe v.uipped; jist scolded us. If us went anywheres, us had to be back ¦:' cunoo'-.n. I once seed some slaves workin' roads in chains wid a ¦¦i ' ¦-: 11 hangin' on behin'. It wuz punishment fur meanness." A^ne £ id the slaves on the Maddox plantation v;ere never allowed ¦-o lt:rn to read and write, declaring: "It was too bad if dey kotched Alabama , ''! r-- -V-' -.-.^N^. ^;.^. V ''.¦¦¦'"¦¦¦ 'IS| a nigger wid pencil an' paper in his hanJ" "I was made to carry Marster's chilluns to school, den go back fur 'em," she said. "01' Mistis read us de Bible, an1 us went to oe white folks church an' sat in de back, wid de white peoples sit- tin' up front* "Oh, dem patterollers was bad. I sho' would run from dera things, too." Anne's mind leaps in fast succession from one subject to another, ?nz at times it is difficult to keep up with her intermingled thoughts. 0? «oi» Marster give us plenty of licker,« she said, an' us laked dat. One of de funniest things us had aroun' de plantation was a little \ -;o£t dat could walk a fence jist lak us little niggers. "'Then de Yankees come, gran'daddy was at prayer meetin' an1 01' Marster come runnin' an' told de niggers to hitch up de mules an1 v/asgins. Dey was tol' to hide all de food an' jewelry, but 'bout dat xi.ic; us seed de Yankees comin'. Dey didn't do us no harm; sho* did scut pieces, dough. "T'want long 'fore Marster call all us niggers up to de house an' tol« us dat us was free. He said us could go away or stay wid him. I ct,;yed ' trel^I v.-ua grown an' married Doc Maddox. Us had five cv.illun, Walter, Failer, Siney, Zora an' Johnny. I don't know how "'•:ny ;;ran'chilluns I • se got." '.'¦¦ :!-.. Copy H.L.D. Alabama 4/v»«o Daphne L.E. Curtis ffv/ ~ l\3&kd Fairhope, Ala. .,, , .//f^' 2?5 MANDYjby the day.) "Howdy Miss* We is sure got a purty day fer de scrubbin' job. Hit will dry as fas' as we turns hit loose. "No?/ jes* look a yonder, ef she ain't got gold-fishes an» ever«- thing heart could wishl-------Is they got ary increases?------Yassum,------ dat's good; mebby so you can sell some. "Lie got chillunf-?----well I is borned three head uv em, but dey all died right now; didn't live a minute. "Then I 'aopted me a baby boy. A little bitty girl borned him, an' she didn't want him,----he was in her way. She said she'd kill him, an' I didn't want her to git in no trouble, so I tooken him. "But sho's you bawn I is sorry I done dat t'ing,----dat nigger so triilln', he is goln' on fourteen now, an' he ain't no help to me at all* He only come home when he hongry, an' that's plenty often. '•An' dis yere husbin' whut I is got now, he ' spicions me 'bout other men's all de time, and de boy an' him togedder, keeps ever't'ing riled up mos'ly, twell I'll be glad effen you was to say, you need me to sleep on your place. "Go to school? Yassum I sho did. I had three months a year for three years, and a extra month one't, that my mammy paid for. Dat tede ten months for me.- I was de f orwardest chile my mammy had.. When iey was any readin' to do ray mammy sont fer me. "Sis Kate kin turn off more work then I kin, but I can mek more Rouon. Oncet I won a contest wid a man an' made 480 pounds. Dey p.ffi3e a hundred pounds for doin' it. "^e and Taylor, he'w my other husband, the one that died, we used |o fo' mek bales near 'bout every year, but dis yer husband whut I got Alabama - 2 - now, he don't do nothin' but jalous me, look la&Jae'd know I didn' want no man, but jes' fer company; an' dat boy I brung up, he jus1 runs nights 'twell I am jes* plumb skeered. So one night I sont for my sister's boy, she is my dead brother's wife, an' Miss, dat rascal, he would steal my las* dime look like?) Miss he would steal de har offen your haid could he jus' git a holt, so 1 jes' sont him back. I talk to him nice befo' I sont him, but hit didn' do no good so I up an' sont him, "Then Miss Nellie (She that keeps the fillin' station) tooken him an' he stole whole ginger ale an' a coky coly, an' she cotch him A wid em. No'am he didn't git 'em open, effen he had uv, he would uv drunk 'em both, he would fo' sure. ha An ' yHim tellin' folks he married a rich widow. Huh-;., Mr. Corte V*, he say *Uandy you is getting yo'se'f messed for sho*T He did so Miss, A- an' he done tole de truf' fo' God, he sho did. I is sho messed up wid 'era bofe. "But Miss, hit was de bigges' cullud weddin', you ever see, an1 pae as black as I is. Dey was three tables for de white folks, an' I Son' know how many cakes, an' Miss Bessie give m± my marryin' dress, pn' ...ister Harry he give me a dollar, an L. Him? 0 yessum, he been A nanled befo*> he is got eight head uv chillun. His fust wife's bring* in' em up, up in Dallas County, an' him carryin' on like he is down ere. "1 allus wanted chillun, a house plum full of 'em, en I done los' 11 I could mek, so now effen I could of had me some widout 'em I ever would of had ary husban' a tall. No'am. "I-.le dance? No'am I is j'ined to de Church. Miss Emily she showed |e 2o;ae white folks dancin' oncet, but I thought they was gettin' too °srt tegedder. In my day they used to swing corners. Alabama - 3 - 277 "House parties, yassum I is served a many of «era^ that's what breaks you down, though; day an' night an' day an1 night* "Well good bye Miss, I sure do thank you for my dollar, an* my cup, an' ever'thing. I is shore enjoyed my day wid you* me an' you is reel good frien's now, ain't we? Hits been jes* like a partyin', "Now I'll be gettin1 to Sis Katie's, she will mo'n likely went rr.e to carry her Lodge dues up, An Miss, please you ast the bus man, wid yo' telephone,,please sir wait for me jes' a minute. E.li. 6-28-37 278 Alabama Preston Kljfttej^ Opelika. ,^ Pettersen %rzoni,Editor. ^ BROOM-STICK WEDDIN'S. Frank Menefee/of %>elika is eighty-four years old and still / healthy. He says\y"kids was brought up right in dem days but don't have no sich now, *caze de switch was one of de best medicines ever made." He was born in Loachapoka, Alabama. His mother and father were Susan and Monroe Menefee. They had six other children, Patsy, Sally Lula, Mary, Melvina, and Philmore. Susan Menefee came from Jefferson County and Monroe from Gold HiH* Alabama, and belonged to Willis Menefee, near ^oberaon's Mill. "My mother's father an' mother was Muton and Patsy Footman whut come frum Meridian, Miss., and dey paid $3500 for dem," Frank boasts. "I'se never seed inside a Jail, never paid a nickel in council, ain't never gwine to steal nothin* whut don't belong to me an* ain*t never used a cuss word in my life. I always tried to do whut was right an' I plowed ever' day us could. Us cooked .on dem great big fireplaces, 'bout six feet wide an' two an' three feet deep, with pots an' kittles hangin' out over hickory an' oak fires. Nobody better not spit in dat fireplace neither. Sho' never was better eatin' collards dan dem. All the chillun had a tin plate an' a tin cup with butter- \ nUk in hit. j nI was whut dey called a shirt-tail fellow, had long shirt [ aresses of orsenberg dyed with red mud an' cinnamon bark. In winter \ I iey doubled de orsenberg to be warmer. My daddy was a shoemaker. He C'ftcie dem outer cowhides an' even lef' de hair on dem sometimes. Yuther times he clean 'em in de wash-pot to git de hair of fen 'em. "Us had good Marsa and Mistiss, iffen you wukked an1 'haved Alabama - 2 - vourse'f. Dey was marsa Willis an* MiSS Hannah Menefee. Dey Jes* had two chlllun Willis an1 Willie. Willie weighed two hundred pounds when he was very young too. De 'Big House' stood in a oak grove wid one big oak tree raght by it. HMr. Sadler, de overseer, was good, too, but you sho' had to mk. He's got a great-great-grands on, Sam Sadler living now in / { ,^, 279 Waverly, Alabama. De poor white peoples 'roun* dere used to hope us I wuk. I disremembers our carriage driver* s name but us had one dat I drove ^istiss about, an' de carriage house was close to de Big House. "Marsa had seven or eight hundred acres in de plantation an' I jes' don't know de number of slaves he did have. Dey got us up by daylight an' 'fo'. Blowed a cockle shell to get us niggers up. Iff en you didn't wuk, dey'tended to you. Dey slashed one nigger an' he died nex' week. Us plowed 'twell dark an' lots an' lots of times all night long wid a lantern tied to front an' back of de plows. We was picking cotton all night long too, be ready to take dat wagon to de gin by tnree or four o'clock in de morning. Sometimes dey would put de slaves in chains. When dey wuk clearing up new groun' dey had chains put 'roun' dey ankles. "On Sunday mornin' Mistiss would try to teach us niggers de ible. Den us would go to church at white church an* sit in de back wid nite folks in front. De preacher was ^ev'ren *rank Hugely. Dat Sunday Jornln' breakfast sho' was good to us niggers. Us had meat, sugar, lard n butter. I used to love to hear dem sing. When My Soul Be Hestlng r ~-e- Presence of My. Lord, I'll Be Satisfied. I was bptised at eleven 'clock by Dave Hill an' I sho' got happy. I shouted an4 sung: 'I'se ver drunk no whiskey in my life. • When any of de niggers would pass t old toistiss would stand over de casket and weep. Us would pull off r ftata an* marsa was nice as he could be, too. Hit was a home-made Alabama - 3 - 2QQ box dyed black. Mistiss she would see to de flxin' of de shroud. •De patrollers sho* would get you an' dats one thing made you stick to your wuk. "On Sadday nights us would frolic an1 dance all night long iffen you wanted to, buck-dance, sixteen-hand reel and cake walk. Dey would | blow reed quills an1 have all the licker dey wanted. Mistiss, dey ain't jes4 now drlnkin' licker. Oh, dera cornshuekingsJ Shuck corn, drink an' holler all night long. Sometimes dey'd singJ "Dark cloud arising like gwine to rain, Nothing but a black gal coming down the lane, Nigger stole a pumkin an1 started duter town; Nigger heered it thunder, Lord, an* throwed dat pumkin down. Mistiss, I don't wanter tell you no mo' of dat. "When us niggers ma'led, dey didn't have no preacher. We jes* jumped over de brooT an1 went on an' lived together. Iffen a gal went wrong, dey beat her nearly to death. Iffen you moved de place when you ma'ied, de other marsa had to buy you. "De li'l niggers had big times. Us used to play, Green grow the |willow tree, you swing my gal an1 I swing yourn. Green grow de willow tree. Dey used to sceer up us niggers 'bout "Haw rtead an' Bloody Bones," [gwine to ketch us dat was so sceer bad iffen us didn't mind 'em, but I1 ain't never seed nor believed in ghostes. Us didn't get sick much 'caze us didn't have no trash to eat an' Mistiss giv* us ebony of yarbs *n' us wore sacks of yarbs 'roun' our necks too. "The Yankees did plenty of harm. Marsa shot at some of dem; an1 le;.r took off our cabin wagons. When us was freed dey singed, I'se gwine teck to Dixie, no more my heart to wander, never see my moster no mo*. "Marsa called us all up an' told us we was Jes' free as him. He live us all a suit of clo'es, some money, a mule, a cow, wagon, hog and 15 1 corn to start off on. Us moved to Dr. Lawrence Smiths near La- Alabama - 4 - 28: Fayette, Alabama. "Later years * ma ic5 •Jt>r; Drake at the cafe in Opelika, Alabama, and by de jedge at twelve o'clock. She died, den x ma'ied Phobe Ethen Drake. Some says de church can't save you, but I sho* feels safer in hit, an' I jined 'caze l wants to be better dan I was an' try to be saved." Washington Copy, 6/14/3?. L. H. Alabama Mary A. Poole, Mobile, 2S2 John Morgan Smith, Editor, (FKOTO) ISAAM MORGAN. "Mistis, l was bawn in 1853, •cordin' to ole Migg'g Bible, near Lotts Landing on the Alabama River." It was Isaam Morgan who spoke from his porch at 1657 Sligo Street, Mobile, Alabama. *l made a special trip back dar a few months back to de ole place, an' Mistis* daughter looked it up for me 'caze I done had forgot." "Mr. James Morgan was my Massa, an* his wife, Miss Delia, was my Mistis. My mammy's name was Ann Morgan, an' as for my pappy, I done for- | got hls'n. I was raised raght dar in de white folks house, an1 I had [my own special place to sleep. I was de house boy, an1 when I growed folder I drlv* Mistis aroun' in de Ca'iage. | "Us niggers lived in sho-'nuff style. Us had our regular quarters whar us livedpn white log cabins chinked wid mud, an1 de slaves had built- in beds an1 a big open fireplace whar dey cooked. Us had plenty flomp'n t'eat. All us had to do was to ask for it an1 de %ssa done de res'. Pur rations was gib out to us eveVsLSadday. Some of de bes' food us ever ad was ' pos sum an *_tat ers. Us'd go out at night wid a big sack, an1 a ack of noun's an* twarn't long befo' we done treed a 'possum. Atter we one treed him, de dogs would stan' aroun' de tree an' bark. Iff en de Ipee was small, us could shake him out. Iff en it was big, one of de nig- gers hadda climb up it an1 git ole Mr. 'Bossum hisself. ill 11 Funny things about 'possums, Miss; de bigger dey is seem lak de (littler de tree dey picks to go up. It is sho-'nuff fun, dough, to go a m ¦railin th'ough de woods atter a 'possum or coon. De coon'll give you |e bes chase, but he ain't no good eatin' lak de 'possum. I seen a 5on one time when he was cornered bite de tip of a noun's nose off. "Massa Morgan sol* wood to de steam boats, an' us slaves hadda cut wo°d> an' split it up into smaller pieces. Any time a slave worked Alabama - 2 - Ou «> over time or cut mo1 wood dan he s'pose to, Massa pay him money for it, caze whenever one of us slaves seen somp'n we lak, we did Jus* lak de white folks does now. Us bought it. "Massa never whupped none of his slaves; he Jus* tole us whut to do an' iff en we didn't do it, he*d call us to him an' he would say in his sort a way? ' Nigger I How many mo* times is I gotta tell you to do lak you tole?' Dat*s all he would say, an* believe me Mistis, he hada a way of lookin* at you dat made you Jump. When he bought a new slave dat 'wasn't use to doin* what he was tol*, *twarn*t long befo' massa had him in line. "Ho'm none of our slaves ever tried to run a way. Dey all knowed J:dey was well off. We didn't have no oberseer but once. He was a mean un \ ......"" "..........................¦ ;too. He tried to fight an' whup us slaves, an* one night six big nigger Wn jumped on him an' scairt him mos' to death. Atter dat de massa |wouldn't never have no mo* oberseers. He tended to dat business hisself* | "Whut we do atter we finished work? Go to bedJ Dat was de onl'es* lace we was fit tin' for. Us was so tired us uuldn't lie down two minutes fo us was 'sleep. On seme moonlight nights us was 'lowed to pick de Ijbotton. Den us'd git a little res' de nex* day. f | "Massa an* his fambly used brass lamps an' candles for light , an* If *ew of us slaves haaark from the tomb in doleful [ound, how careful, how careful den ought I to live, wid what religious *ar' was de prettiest thing, and -L sho* did love to hear dem sing hit. never seed de baptising, 'ca'se 1 used to go to de 'Plscopal Church d Mist is and open gates and hold de hosses. I sot in de foot of her trriage. "Cnristmas dey'd give us provisions and de chillun some trash Imean- fg toys). Dey sho' had good times on moonlight nights at de comshuck- | (-------———^ |ga. Dey would haul de corn from de fields and put it i n a big ring, |d as dey shucked dey would throw it in ring and den into de crib. aetimes dey was so much corn it would stay on de ground 'twell it :ted. "Mr. Dickey Williams" mother, Miss Emily, ma1 led while us was dere Alabama - 3 - and my grandma cooked de cake. My daddy made de cake stand. Hit had ! tiiree tiers, each one full of little cakes wid de big cake on top. Hit I sho' was pretty. "Dey let de little niggers have all de fun dey wanted. Us played i I jump rope and swung in de grapevine swings mostly. Den us had rag dolls. When any of us got sick, we was give horehound tea and rock candy. Some- times effen dey wasn't looking o&3t us got a chance us spit it x&t. Dey got de doctor effen us needed it. "One of our %rsters was killed in de war and brought home and buried. He was Mr. Joe. All de silver was hid out enduring de war but de sojers never did come to our house. "One day my daddy says, 'Hannah, Marster said us is free now to do arnat we want to do.' But us stayed on two years mo*. In a few years I iia'ied Hilton Heard and had a calico wedding dress and dudge Reed ma'ied us in Opelika in de ole plank court house. I didn't have no ehllltim juid I lives now wid my niece, Sally Thomas. "I don't know what I think 'bout Abraham Lincoln. I don't know iothing 'bout him. Slavery was all right in its place, I guess, 'ca'se tome needed it to make 'em work. "Folks get so sinful 1 thought I was safest in de church. I be- lieve Ood intended for all us to be religious.¦ iasn. Copy, J|2/3?. 296 Alabama Preston Klein, °pelika Jack %tle, Editor. Vegan to lead prayer meetings. Still 1 felt that there was more for me Jo do. 300 IChapter 2, - Entering The Ministry^. I felt sure that I was called to preach, though "unlearned and ignorant." I trembled at the thought of preaching the gospel, but some- thing seemed to >;tsh me forward in that direction. So I asked the people to let me preach. This request was granted. The people at that time had no place or house of worship. I began to fast and pray night and day. Being "unlearned and Ignorant" (Acts 4:13J my heart silently murmured — "Bread of heaven, bread of heaven, Feed me till i want no more. This was the only school I attended, both day and night. At this time I did not know "A" from "B," but i met a man who ©ould read a little. Tnis man liked me and promised to teach me how to read, provided I would keep it secret. This I gladly promised to do. "I am weak, Thou art mighty, Hold me with they powerful hand." I secured a blue-back speller and went out on the mountain every Sunday to meet this gentleman, to be taught. I would stay on the moun- | tain all day Sunday without food. I continued this way for a year and succeeded well. I hired my own time and with my blue-back speller went ) to tne mountain to have this man teach me. The mountain was the great school which I attended. I went from there to the blacksmith shop to ) worx. i'rom that place I was captured by the Yankees and carried to bar. As I was crippled I was allowed to remain in the commissary de- jpartment for about six months. While we were at camp at Athens, Alabama reneral Forest came upon us and defeated, captured, and killed until :hey were almost literally wiped out of existence. I had been kind to some little white children, by which 1 had won their love, and of course, 'he love of their parents, and stayed with them three days during the fat tie. I came to a river and turned aside to a farm from which all the people had gone to save themselves from the war, 1 got a man to help 3 Alabama - 3 - reach an island where I worked three days without anything to eat ex- cept grapes and muscadines. I preferred to die on the island than to be killed by the soldiers. Therefore, in time of danger, I rushed to this house and $he good people hid me and changed my clothes. Hence, when 1 was found X was taken for one of the gentleman's slaves. When I was permitted by the man to try to return to J^aGrange, and had gone some distance, I was caught by deserters from the Southern army, who voted i to shoot me. They bound me and kept me overnight, intending to do away i with me the next day. It was a lonely desert on the Tennessee river. I could not sleep, so all night I prayed to God, and the wives of the men/ prayed to God for the poor "nigger, ¦ and also prayed to their cruel hus-y bands. Their prayers prevailed, and I was robbed and let go. I had vowed not to reveal their whereabouts. I left loving God and believing in his providence as I had never believed,before, "Earth has no sorrow tnat heaven cannot heal." I went home and got another spelling-book, altnough it was not 1 allowed. Some of my own people told my master that i had a book trying 1 to read. He sent for me to come to the house, I obeyed, tnough 1 dread- Jed to meet him, not knowing what the consequence would be. But his I heart had been touched by Divine power and he simply told me that he heard that I had a book, and if 1 was caught with it I would be hung. So i thanked him and departedc Notwithstanding my master's counsel 1 j|tnirsted for knowledge and got some old boards and carried them to my [house to make a light by which -*• could see how to read. I would shut ]|the doors, put one end of a board into the fire, and proceed to study; 'ut vmenever 1 heard the dogs barking I would throw my book under the ed and peep and listen to see what was up. If no one was near I would rflwi under the bed, get my book, come out, lie flat on my stomach, and roceed to study until the dogs would again disturb me. I did this for 01 Alabama - 4 - r,S* ) FIFTY YEARS IN - --¦--•—-y -•-• r- ~,| -r ¦ r_ _. in ¦ r n i DE PO' HOUSE. "White folks." said Lindy Patton, from a chair in the Greene County Poor House» "I was born in 1841 an' it1 : taken me fifty years to git to de po' house. Now * is got jus' fo' mo1 years to make it an' even fif'iv apt I been dere. I hopes I makes de grade, caze dat would be so;:;e sorta rec'd wouldn't it? Fifty years in de por house. "I wukked in de fiel's auf I. worked hard all day long. De white folds u.seta gimme de clothes of de 111* white chilluns. I was horn in :Cno::ville, Alabama, in Greene County, an1 I belonged to '%ssa Bill ?aJt)n. I remembers a slave on our plantation dat was always arunnin1 |;\v'. De liassa try beatin1 him but dat didn't do no good. Dat nigger jvouid ran away in spite of no thin' they could do*/ One day de massa de- [elded he was goin1 to take de nigger to "Mobile an* swap him for anudder ¦ :. De I-Iisstis tol' him to leave de ole fool alone, said it warn't ¦¦•,:¦. the trouble. Well, de massa started out to Mobile wid de nigger, ! vheh de got dere an' de train stop, de nigger, he lit out an1 de x......w * : :; r nned rAght behine him. Dey musta runned a mile or mo' till .-"ly de <-assa he gib out an' let de nigger go, Two days later de '-¦i- de died f m a-chasinf dat low down burr head. "Mawsuh, de white folks didn't teach us to read or write. White ' ¦•-:s, I cai't hardly count none at all. We didn't have no church on 1-L-ce neither. We jus' went along wid de massa an' sot in de back. ¦I'.i't never raa'ied, an1 I ain t never goin* to." • -Jopy, Alabama J. Morgan Smith . . * x^fti . •...— <¦' ^ SX-SIAVE LEADER RECALLS OLD DAYS Simon Phillips, ex-slave, at 90 years is still as clear/think- ing as a young many and a leader among the oldsters of his- race in Birmingham and Alabama. He has been for the past twenty-three years president of the union of ex-slaves which is composed of 1,500 Negroes scattered throughout Alabama. He is the only one of the Birmingham organizers of the society living today and though one of the oldest of his group, he shows but few signs of decrepitude. he walks with the aid of a hickory cane which has been in his possession for almost a half century, and his memory is not only accurate but vivid. His physical activity is shown by the fact th;t he haft already spaded his garden and tiny stalks had pushed thenselves above the ground on a plot of earth covering approximate- ly- seventy-five yards square, on the Spring morning when he took ": little time off" to talk of the past. -ell does he recall the days when, under Alabama skies in the oO'.i, he curried his roadster's fine carriage horses; the times old -unt Hannah cured him of "Benin's" with vetegable and root h,erbs; the nights he spent in the slave quarters singing spiritualshwith •anily. \ Simon Phillips was one of 300 Negroes belonging to Bryant Wat- , f planter of Greensboro, Alabama. He was a house nan, which |2 <¦ r.s thut he mixed the drinks, opened the carriage doors, brought r-:- ?rosh\ients on the porch to guests, saw that the carriage was ai- rs in the best of condition and tended the front lawn, When asked out slave days, he gets a far-away expression in his eyes; an ex- pression of tranquil joy. >P'>''ni"»n»<<^'M~«?>r^ apsis • raj.,,^^-^™^^™— -~.„ _- ,. p^ Alabama , - 2,- "People," he says, "has the wrong Idea of slave days. We vjs.s treated good. My massa never laid a hand on me durin* the whole time I was wid him. He scolded me once for not bringin1 him a drink when I was supposed to, but he never whup me." The old slave added thatfevery plantation had a still and there was iiuch brandy, but he rarely ever saw a drunk man.J He says that v.hen the raen felt themselves becoming intoxicated, they would go hone and lie down; now, he says, they go home and fall down. The plantation on which Simon lived was seven miles long and -three miles wide. When luncheon was served, the Negroes far off in the bottom lands had their food brought to them by the trash ?£.!>£ (boys and women) while those in the nearer cotton fields ate in t large mess hall. The food consisted of turnip greens, meat, peas, crackling bread and syrup, «Cnd plenty of it. "Not since those 3ays," he states, "have I had such good food." "'.ihat about the marriage situation, Simon?" he was asked. ~o 'lid you go about getting a wife?" :'.ucy know she got er good quilt, when 1 gits t'ru wid it." "Is yer got enny snuff, Missy? You don't dip snuff! No'me, I (idn't tink you did.8 >-sh. Copy, '37/37. H. Alabama iApQ-f j^ Ruby Pi eke ns Tartt, 318 J-U^ol f Livingston, Alabama. A HUSBAND OOULDfrHlf BE_BOUGHT. (Photo) Carrie Pollard was born in slavery time but she was never a slave. Her grandmother-was a free woman who came to Tuscaloosa as a servant in the 1820's and was rescued from a man who claimed ownership, but vhose claim was disallowed. The grandmother went to Gainesville, with her slave husband for whom she brought freedom. , Qne of her daughters, who was Carrie Pollard's Aunt Cynthia, was not so lucky. She couldn't buy her husband free. The story, told so often to Carrie, when she was a child is still a bright memory to the mulatto woman who was born in 1859 and still lives in Gainesville in the house of her birth. "l..y Aunt Cynthy," said Carrie, "was free born in North Carolina. She come down here to C-ainesville, an1 though the deed sez you can't tehe a blue veined chile an1 make a slave outa her, de man whut brought her made like he owned her or sump'in'. She lived on one plantation wid .er ;;uar&ian£) 'Tom Dobbs a slave nigger whut belonged to iar. Dobbs here in Gainesville, he lived on another/cross de road. An' dey couldn't ¦•¦'srr.'/caze ^r. Dobbs wouldn't sell Tom an' Aunt Cynthy's white folks vouir..n' t let her marry, so dey Jes* taken up an' went ahead. Her an1 -oi had nine chillun, as fine looking mulattoes ez you'd wanta see. An1 ^ jolc" ...r. Dobbs wanted 'em an' he couldn't get 'era." "Aunt Cynthy was a good midwife, so a white lady sent fer her to v. e to Sumterville, Alabama, to «»#e her an' she went. An' while she •e.s dere, she dream't sump'in' done happened to her chillun an' dat dey f'?s in trouble. So she tole de white lady she was nussin* 'bout whut »":-e dream't an' she said, 'iuammy, if fen you is worried 'bout your chillurj «e -jvineter send you to a fortune teller an' see whut's de matter'. j. Alabama - 2 - 319 rf De fortune teller cut de cards, an' den she looked up en tole Aunt Cynthia 'All yojxt chillun an' your husband done gone an' I can't tell you where dey's at.' So Aunt Cynthia run back an' tole de white lacy. She called her husband' an' he had one of his niggers saddle up tv/o hosses an' ride wid Aunt Cynthy back to Gainesville. When she foun* 1 her guardian, *-ir. Steele, he met her wid de news dat dey v/as tuck to Derail), Mississippi. He got on his hoss an' tuck some other white men wid him, an* dey . captured old man Dobbs right dere wid Tom an* de nine chillun. Dey done stopped an' camped an' v/as cookin' supper. So I-Ir. Steele tole him he [could keep Tom, caze he v/as hissen, an' a slave, but Cynthy was free born an' he couldn't have her chillun. But Lr. Dobbs sez he didn't [rant Tom nohov/, caze he v/as part Indian an' no 'count an' wouldn't work. >o --r. Steele bought ?om for Aunt Cynthy an' brought 'em all back to Live via him. An7he give Aunt Cynthy an' Tom an1 de chillun a nice liouse rrvV.t cross de branch here after surrender." Carrie tells of how her grandmother used to send them to the mill -ainesville with wheat, "jes' lack you do corn nowadays, to git flour. |n' „-s fvit de grudgins an' de seconds an' have de bes' buckwheat cakes |cu ever et." She says there are more black Negroes now in G-ainesville than she >-•' ever seen. She says, "Hit use to be a sight to see 'bout fifty bes' »kin' mulatto girls up in de public square here listenin1 to de ban' an' issen de chillun, not five black ones in de bunch. An' dey had good f- -t sense, too. Us didn't have no clocks, so us white mistis would ¦y> '"-awl come home a hour by sun to do de night work,1 an' us didn't ^¦~y ever miss it." She says her grandmother sent her two daughters to cl.ool in mobile, and they went down the river from Gainesville ir* a ¦¦•"¦•oat called "Creraoniai'S • Copy, 5/28/37. L. H. Alabama 'A LIZ I. Susie R. O'Brien A Uniontown, Alabama ^ Hush Water for ^ Talkative Women Under the spreading branches of an enormous fig tree laden with ripe fruit nAunt Irene" sat dreaming of old times. At her feet several chickens scratched and waited for the soft plop of an over ripe fig as it fell to the ground. Aunt Irene's back is bent with age and rheumatism, but her two-room cabin is as clean and neat as a pin. Her small yard is a mass of color where marigolds, zinnias, verbena and cocks- comb run riot, and over the roughly-made arch at the gate trailed cypress vine in full bloom. "Good morning Aunt Irene," I said. "A penny for your thoughts." "Well honey, I don't know as aey is wo'th a penny; not to you anyhow. I was jes' stud'in' 'bout ole times an' 'bout mah ole raarster. You know if he was livin' today he would be a hundred an1 sixteen years ole." "7/ho was your master Aunt Irene? Tell me about him." "His name was Jeff Anderson Poole an' he was de bes' man in de world. Mah ole miss was name Mollie. I was born on his plantation three miles from Uniontown eighty five years ago. "Ivlah pappy, Alfred Poole, b*longed to Marse Jeff an' he bought mah mammy, Palestine Kent, from another plantation 'cause "-g_d-e *>ig road._jDen dere as a white 'oman who was kilt by a nigger boy kaze she beat him for sick- ng a dog on a fine milk cow. He was de meanest nigger boy I eber seed, 11 neber forgits de way dem white mens treated him atter he done had is trial. Dey drug him through de town behin1 a hoss, an' made him walk uer sharp stones wid his bare feets, dat bled lak somebody done cut 'em 5-d a knife. Dey nebe\r gib him no water all dat day an* kep' him out in e ooilin' sun till de^ got ready to hang him. When dey got ready to *-K him dey put him up on a stand and chunked roJTcks at his naked body; Alabama - 3' -' 325 .v... • >,'.r' dey *fcreA gravel in his eyes and broke hianibs wid big rocks. Den dey put a rope around his neck an' strung him up till his eyes pop outen his head. I knowed it wuz a blessin' to him to die. "But all and all, white folks, den was de really happy days for |us niggers. Course we didn't hab dev 'vantages dat we has now, but dere wus somp'n' back dere dat we ain't got now, an' dats secu'aty. Yassuh, v?e had somebody to go to when we was in trouble. We had a Massa dat would fight fo1 us an1 help us an' laugh wid us an1 cry wid us. We had a Mis- tis dat would nuss us when we was sicky an1 comfort us when we hadda be punished. I sometimes wish I could be back on de ole place. I kin see pe cool-house now packed wid fresh butter an1 milk an1 cream. I can see pe spring down amongst de willows an1 de water a trickling down between tittle rocks. I can hear de turkeys a gobblin1 in de yard and de chic- kens a runnin' aroun* in de sun, an' shufflin' in de dus1. I can see de bend in de creek jus1 below our house, an* de cows as dey come to drink \n de shallow water an' gits dere f.eets cool. "Yassuh, white folks, you ain't neber seed nothin1 lak it so you an't tell de joy you gits rum lookin* for dewberries an' ahuntin' gu^/ea H£'s, an* sett in' in de shade of a peach tree, reachin' up an1 pullin' tf? a ripe peach and eatin' it slow. You ain't neber seed your people ¦athered 'bout an' singin' in de moonlight or heered de lark at de break f day. You ain't neber walked acrost a frosty fiel' in de early mornin1, 1 gone to de big house to build a fire for your Mistis, an' when she a-^e up slow have her say to you: 'Well, how's my little nigger today?1 "Nawsuh, jus' lak I told you at fus". I was bawn a slave, but I n't neber been one. I'se been a worker for good peoples. You wouldn't Us dat bein* a slave would you, white folks?" lah. Copy, '25/37. H. 1 WeeK ending July 2y, 1937. Mary A. Poole D-SOO Identification N0.U149-4366 D-260 Federal Writers' Project.Eist. 2. 1PA Project 36 09 SLAVS SALLIE SAYS "SATAN'S COIN' *R0Uin> VVIB HIS TAIL CURLED UP" . (Compiled oy Mary A. Poole,) Sallie Reynolds, living at bs2 South Conception street, was busy at- tne wash tub when the writer called to interview her on July 2U, 1937, so it being a hot day we decided to continue our conversation out doors under the washsned amid a conglomeration oi tubs, buckets, empty boxes, etc. Sallie said she was born in Hiltown,Georgia, where her mother liar gar et owens was a slave and tne cooit on the plantation of Mr. lit Albritton. When Sallie was about three years of age her mother gave her to lirs, Bec£e Albritton, wno lived at New Providence, near xiutledge in Qten- jsnaw County, Alabama, to whom sne was bound until 21 years oi' age. There was also a brother given by her mother to some folia in Florida and of wnom Sallie never had any .knowledge whatever. Sallie said Idrs. Albritton was Jcind to her, taught her to spin and sew, and sne tried to learn herself to weave, but, somehow, could never master it. Mrs. Albritton had only a few slaves who were named, Mose, Dan, Charles, Sandy 0 the latter so called because he ate sand as a child]f and tv;o women, Hannah and Tene. They had no regular quarters but just cabins out in a rear lot. Sallie said all the whippings were given her by either of the young ¦es;-:rs. Albritton, they were high tempered, as their father was before kern. She laughed and said she had Indian blood in her veins and some- inies she was sassy as she felt independent Knowing Mrs. Albritton would ways taxe her part. She recalled the Yankee's coming through after the war, one re- Weekending July 29, 1937. Mary A, Poole. -2- °^' p.200 Identification ISTo. 0149-4366 P-E60 Federal Writers1 Projeet,Dist.2. WPA Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. SLAVE SALLIE SAYS "SATAN1S COIN' • ROUND WID EIS TAIL UURLEJD UP". (Compiled by Mary A. Poole.) mained at the Albritton home alter the otners had gone on, and she re- membered nearing Mrs. Alhritton telling friends who visited her, that aiter this soldier had left he wrote Mrs. Albritoon a letter, telling where her to look on the back of the bench on the gallery nflxacn he had sat and sue would find nis message, Sallie said she was a little girl sitting on the floor at her mistress feet, ready to fetch and carry for her and she often wondered but did'nt dare ask what the message was she did, however, hear some one say, that the Yankees said, if they ever came again, they ;would take them from the cradle and that puzzled her, to know just what they meant, lure, Albritton had a regular hero garden and Sallie helped her to igather the nerbs, Pennyroil, Dock Sage, Tansy (single and double) pfcyme, and Yarrow. I'&ey used Samson snake Root in whiskey for cramps, and jiatteriiy v;eed tor risings. The writer asked Sallie about church and she said they had no church, [tui Lr. Albritton talked to her ana impressed on her as a child to never [touch anything that did not belong to her, "Ask for it and if not given |to her, to let it alone and to never lie, or to carry tales and she could ilv:aya keep out of trouble". Sallie said she hated to see Sunday morning J^ae, as the men folks were around the house and they would pick on her md somehow she would get a beating. Sallie remained with ilrs. Albritton until she was 22 years, when fhe narried John Russell, by whom she had three children. They all died p babies, later she married aus Reynolds, (now dead) so Sallie just rents ¦3om and lives alont. Sauie.says present generation knows too much and too little, that iiQey_ ending July 29, 1937. !-• Llary A- Poole Identification uo.0149-4366 Federal Writers1 Project, Dist. 2, i&PA Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. a328 SLAVE SAL1IS SAYS "SATAN'S GOIW1 'HOUlflD WID EIS XE1L 0U-HI3D UP" . it:- "Jld-tirae religion'' was best tor all, she thinks "Satan's coin1 'round via his tail curled up, catching all he can devour"; ":. Copy 'i — i. Janie said folks didn't think as strong as a good black one, so her [motrer, Sarah Sorter, and Andy WMte her father just borrowed a mule with- I &*~^ [out the Master's consent and ro/e off and were married, anyhow. Janie laughed and said she guessed it was all right after all be- ;ause they had eleven children, two are now living, Janie and a sister Jaisy. Wnen the writer asked if slaves ever earned any money, she replied: "*hey didn't even know what money was." Then she continued: "ISfnce w*en ray mother was a little girl she asked her mistress to give her fif- ,een cents, and her Mistress wanted to know why she wanted fifteen Alabama - 2 - ^Q cents. rter Mother replied: MI wants to see what money looks like." Her Mistress thought she was trying to act smart and in place of fifteen cents she received a whipping. Tne slaves wore homepsun clothes, but her mother remembered having as her best dress one made of marino. m Tne slaves quarters were log cabins with clay chimneys, and they cooked in the open fireplaces in the winter and in the summer on what tney called scaffolds, built out in the yard. Tnese were made of clay / foundations with iron rods across on which the pots hung. Janie said her mother "was strong and could roll and cut logs like a rnan, and was much of a woiaan." Then they had a log rolling on a plan- tation the Negroes from the neighboring plantations came and worked to- gether until all the jobs were completed. After each log rolling they gave them molasses to make candy and have a big frolic. During the Civil War when supplies were scarce, especially salt, karster John rode off taking her mother's sister Ca'line with him and when he returned alone his wife, Mrs. Meyers, wanted to know wnere was Ca'line, and ^arster John replied: "I sold her for a sack of salt/'' At rirst they did not believe him, but Ca'line never returned and Sarah never saw her sister anymore. After tne Surrender the Yankees came through and the slaves hid under the house, but the soldiers made them come out and told tnem they were free, and gave the slaves everything on the place to eat. They 6-11 went down to the creek and praised G-od for what he had done for then;, Janie does not believe in charms, hoodoo or fortune-tellers, saying: "Those folks can*t tell you nothing. When Christ was risen *ie carried all propnets with him and didn't leave any wise folks able to e±l things going to happen here on earth everything Christ wanted folk* Alabama - 3 - oqq to know had already happened." ¦s Janie did say the best charm she knew of was a bag of asaf?ietida worn around the neck to ward off sickness or to take nine or ten drops in a little water would sure keep the worms down. Trie slaves got plenty of coons, rabbits and be^r meat, and could g« ! fisning on Sundays, as well as turtle hunting. i Trie overseer on the Myers plantation was not a mean man, they had I I a calaboose or sweat box to punish unruly slaves in place of whipping tnem. After the Surrender her father and mother moved to Mobile, Alabama, and ner fatner continued to work for Mr. Jewett at his mill located at tne foot of Palmetto Street on the Mobile river front. BiBLiOfrHAjeHY; Personal interview with Janie Scott, 255 South Lawrence Street, Mobile, Alabama. (Wasnington Copy, [8/3/37. Alabama - Oertha Oouric, Jack Kytle. SLAVERY COMING- BACK? .-//»> MAU&AN HOPES SO. (Photo} 5^ r- f v.- V'Histus, I hears slavery times is comin1 back." Uncle Maugan Shepherd is past 80. He idled about the front of his tumble-down house in Eufaula, happily recalling the old plantation: days. He has never learned to read, and therefore pins a great deal of P dependence upon hearsay. "Where did you hear about slavery coming back?" the interviewer asked him. "Well, mam, 'pear lak * heard it somewhar. I don't rikolect jest now." "Would you like to have the old times back again, Uncle Maugan?" He studied a moment, beamed,? "Yassum, I would^ I'se proud I was borned a slave. IJ^se too youir to 'member much, but I knows I always had enough to eat and wear cen, and I sho don't now. Uncle ^augan said that he was "birthed" at Chestnut Hill; that he belonged to Marse and Mistus Rich Wiley, and that his father and uother were Bunk and Betsy# Wiley, both "field niggers." Maugan had tro brothers, Oliver and Monroe; but no sisters. "I never seed ma and pa much fcept on Sundays," he explained. 'Dey vas allua workin1 in de fields an1 I was out chasin' rabbits an1 sech mos' of de time. At night I jest et my cornpone an' drink my buttermilk an' fell on de bed asleep." ^augan remembers one overseer, scornfully referring to him as "ro* white trash." "Us slaves called him by his las' name behin* his back," the >1'-" darky explained, a,.oaze us hated to 'mister* dat white man." Alabama '• - 2 - Qdi- Maugan remembers Reconstruction and a great deal about Hatter de surrender," but says "r^ckolection ain't so good" on things that happened before. "I 'members dat I was powerful scared of de Yankee soldiers," lie said, "but dey never hurt«* nobody. Dey come through Eufaula an1 all us niggers tried to hide; but dey jest come on by an1 laughed at us fer bein' scared." Llore than fifty years ago, Maugan married Kitty. She is about 70 and makes her living washing clothes for "de white peoples." They never had any children. i>iaugan says he never goes anywhere except to church on Sundays» •"*is legs are not so strong anymore, he explains. "Ky ol1 'oraan, she sho' lak to go to funerals," he chuckled. "But in dese days day takes de body to have it vulcanized, so we can't have no set tin* ups. Dis went hard on Kitty, 'caze she was a mourner; but it didn't do her no good, shout in1 an' amournin* all night. She would always come home wid her head tied up an1 her eyes set back in her head." I-augan still works. He is a good yardman, but says some day ' e is just "gwine ter drap out, lak his pa did." '"'ash. Copy, 6/1/37. iiiteaifla !l '""hft'^h While interviewing forDaer slaves in the rural sections of ^ee County, I ran across Allen Sims, a sturdy old Negro, who proved to Ilave en unusually clear recollection of slavery as the institution appeared to the small boy of that era. He was not old enough to make a work-hand at its close. He spoke slowly, but with evident positiveness as to the facts: "I 'members lots 'bout slavery times; 'cause I was right dar. I :!on't 'member much 'bout de war, 'cause I was too little to know what ar was, and de^aost I seed was when de Yankees corae through and burnt [up de Big House, de barns, de ginhouse and took all Qld Marster's hosses ?nd mules, and kilt de milk-cows for beef .They didn't leave us nothing to eat, and us lak to starve to death. "Our folks, de Siiases, dey come fura Virginny. My pappy and mammy res homed dere. Dey names was Allen Sims and Kitty Sims. My Old •arster was Marse Jimmie Siras, and my Old Mistis was Miss Creasie. hSorae \>f Pf.ppy and Mammy's chillun was borned in Virginny, and some of 'em in ?oa:-.a. • I was de baby chile, and * was borned right on dis very place '!'' us is now. Dey had a whol^e passel of chillun. Dere 'was Chaney, pec::,y, Judy, Sara, Phoebe, King, Alex, Jordan and Allen -. dat's me. "«s lived in a log house in de quarter, wid a board roof and a p1. rock fireplace wid a stick and dirt chiraley. We had plenty wood, and cull build jee1 as big fire as we need, if de weather was cold. Mammy, ".e cook ash-cake in de fireplace, and it was de bes1 bread I ever eat, fitter'n any dis store-bought bread. You ain't never eat no ash-cake? -vj -issy, you don't know what good bread is lakJ "Old Marster was good to his niggers and all of 'em, big and lii||^ fjliabaffla'¦¦'; " " "":"; -f^ -y^Wi^ had r>lenty t o eat, and.-¦•£%¦-'^.f#%--;t-Pttsto; neither. Is had ash-cake, hoe- caxe, pone-bread, meat and gravy, peas, greens, roast-neers, pot-liquor,, and sweet 'taters, I'ish taters^and goobers - I spec °id Marster's niggers live better dan lots of white folks lives now, __ "Aunt Mandy, what was too old to work, looked at-^er all de little ] •$ nigger chilluns, whilst dey maraiays was working, and she whip us wid a !bresh, if we didn't mind her; but she fuse more dan she whip and it didn't [hurt much, but us cry lak she killing us. ^ "When us got sick, Old Mistis looked at^-ter us herself, and she 2T dn us oil and turpentine and lobelia and if dat didn't cure us, she sont 'or de doctor - de same doctor dat come to see her own fambly. Sometime [a old nigger die, and Old Marster and Old Mistis dey cry jes' lak us did. pey put 'em in a coffin and bury 'em in de graveyard, wid de white preaehr |er clar and nobody didn't work none dat day, atfcer us come back fura de , [rraveyard. "Our beds was bunks in de corner of de room, nailed to de wall and jes1 Sne post out in de flo'. De little chilluns slep' crosswise de big [bed and it was plum* full in dold weather. "Ou clothes was orsenburg (Osnaburg), spun and weave, right at -one and it sho' did last a long time. De little niggers jes' wore a Long shirt, 'tell dey got big 'nough to work, in de field, and us had red A toes nade at de tan-yard to wear in winter time; but us foots was tough 2nd as -vent barefooted most all de winter too. Us played games too, dnerly jumping de rope and base. "De grown niggers had good times Sadday nights, wid dances, sup- >ers and wras'lin. De corn-shuckings was de biggest time dey had, 'cause le neighbors come and dey laughed and hollered nearly all night. "Old Marster and Old Mistis lived in a big two-story white house. 'e-V ::ad ten chillun, five boys and five gale, and dey all growed up and. married off. De old carriage-driver was name Clark, and he sho' was proud. De overseer was Tetter Hoberson, and he was mean- He beat nigger* a lot, and bimeby Old Marster turned him off. He used to blow de horn vT.y befo1. day to git de niggers up, and he work 'em 'tell smack dark. "AtAer de Yankees burned up everyt'ing 'cept de cabins, us jes1 stayed right dar wid °ld Marster when us freed. Old Marster built a new house for hira and Old Mistis, but it wa'n't much-better dan our cabin and c'ey lived dere 'tell dey died. "When I growed up, I married Laura Frazier, and us had a big wedding and & preacher, and didn't jump over no broom lack some niggers did. Us had jes' two chillun dat lived to be grown. Dey is Filmore and Mary Lou, and us ain't got no gran'chillun. "When I got grown, I j'ined de B^ppZat O&mifeh at Rough Heck, 'cause felt -1- had done enough wrong, an... u-xfljf- ~jr^4^-~... gRAHK SMITH/ EX-SLAVE /Tv 7 < "Yassuh, its jes lak I tell yer. I was borned in Ole • ¦ :. H • ¦*¦•' r'' 3^ginny and my Ole Marster was Doctor Constable and he and us all lived out a piece fum Norfolk whar you kin see de whole ocean* I 7*;s\/rit dovm in de Bible, jeslak Ole Marsterfs udder niggers, ?::rid Ole liistis said hit was de six day of J"innerwary in forty-eight v/hen i was borned. How ole dat mek rae now? Eighty-nine, gwine on ninety - dats right. "Ole Idarster he died eight years fo1 de Big War, and Ole Mistis frefergeedf dovm to Alexandria, where her mammy and pappy lived and tuk ne and linker Dan and ^unt Melissy wid her; but she sole my mammy • nd Liy pappy and all de rest of de niggers ter de man what bought de U'litation and us never did see fem no mof • "I v/as de house-boy at Ole liistis pappyfs house, I disremerober io nane; but, anyhow, I didnft wuk in de field lak de udder niggers. ..en de 3ig War started, Ole liistis she tuk me and her chilluns and us 'referred* dovm somewhars dey v/as a cotehouse, whut dey called T-^ulpepper*, or sumpfn lak dat, and us lived in town wid some mof or cie l-istis's kinfolks, but dey wasn't her maramy and pappy. De t ¦? jars marched right in front of our house, right by de front gate, i-> dey was gwine ter Hopper's Ferry to kill Ole John Brown, what ^ killin1 white folks and freein1 niggers fo dey time. Dat was -.ipter Lincumfs job, atter de v/ar. And no niggers wanft ter be free tell den. ir«e lived clos't ter de big hotel whar Gineral Lee and a whole :?-r:<3C'l of soldiers stayed, and dey had de shineyest close I ebber seed. Alabama , - S _ 34@ t Dey was fine gemmen and Ole Mistis she let me wait on 'em whilst she C uidn' need me ter wuk eround de house, and dey gimme a dime lots of times. I shined Gineral Lee's shoes sometimes and he alluz gin me c. dime and said: *Dat.looks nice.1 SOmtof de ginerals jes* -iriiie de dime and didn't say nuthin' but dey wasn't big mens lak Gineral Lee and Ole Marster. He v/as straight and dignerfied and didn't talk rauch, but he'd walk up and down on de front gallery and de ordlies brung him telegrafs from Bull Run, whar us and de yankees v.is iinhtin'. Lawzy mussy, I heard em talkin 'bout 'Bull Run' dat day and I lowed somebody's bull had got out and us and de yankees v/as tryin' ter ketch him and git him back in de paster.' ¦'.'•'en de war got too close to us, Ole Histis tuk me and her little A ml what v/as oldern me ..and lef' Unker Dan and Aunt Melissa, and us 7 ) vent to Lynchburg, whar her mammy and pappy done move to, and us staved wid dem agin, but Ole Mistis was gitt^n worried over de war, no when I broke her ivy-handled dinin' room knife and fergot ter tell her, she slap my head nearly off and got mad and sole me ter a man '."hut lived in Cleveland, Tennessee. 1 Her pappy tried ter keep Mistis fum sellin me. He said all I needed was a good brushin'.but nobody couldn't do nothin' wid Ole - istis wen she gdf[ good and mad! "hy new marster wan't lak ny own whitefolks; so I up and runned '" '':' -nd ,jine de Yankee array and got a job workin' fer a cap'n name ^nor-ton, or sump'n lak dat; him and a Lieutenant somebody. We followed General Sherman clear to Atlanta and ten mile fudder on, den dey turned back, and marched clear back to Chattanooga and den '-«:<' on tell we got ter Nashville. I sho was glad to git away fum ; U-nta, cause dey was dead men eve'y way you looked, atter dey quit Alabama - 3 - 347 fightin'. Dey gimme a uniform, but I didn't get no gun— I fought vad a fryin-pan. "7/e stayed in Nashville a while and when de war was over, Cap'n Lsserton wanted ter tek me to Illinois wid him and give me a job; but I didn't lak de Yankees. Dey wanted you to wuk g(ll de time, and dat's sujap'n I hadn't been brung up to do. Dey turned me free i.nd I went wid a passel of Gineral Lee's so'jers, what come along 'join' hone and us went down and crossed de bigges' ribber I eber seed. I tuk up on fus' one farm and den anudder, tell I found one 1 lbJ: and den dat was two years atter we lef Nashville (1867) and I stayed dar-close .to Baton Rouge sixteen years. Lawd, de cotton '.nd sugi;ar cane us did mek on dat rich Ian1. Its?richerfn de gwana a ley sells out here in Alabama I "I went to Memphis on a.1 'scursion and stayed dar, doin fus1 one thing and den another, x%p&> git in Jail> a*id I worked at a house ^inter's trade. I heered dey paid good wages fer paintin* in -unrin'ham and I cone here de same year all dero niggers was killed ri dat church ^stompede.^ I got a job wid Mr. Douglass, Janitorin' :-X de Jefferson Theater and him and me stayed together three years. Z bought a waggin and sold keros|ne oil fer about a year, Hell my i-'v.ey was all (Tone and den I got a job wid de Base Ball association £ "-'.i e year 1913. I been wid'em ever sence. I used ter mek fura #8 A - r J.fj a week,'cordin» ter how times was, tell de 'pression come -i- I'se too ole ter wuk now, so I jes* totes de mail and does odd ¦003 and dey pays me s?3 a week fer dat. I 'plied fer ole-age pension to years back, but it hain't come yit. I got one boy livin* in ^cln'ham. He's 40 year old, but he don't help me nary cent. My Alabama - 4 - 348 fun* wife died in Louisiana and I married a gal in Memphis, but she £eff rae when I Ids' my job one time and v/ent to Detroit wid a passel of niggers. She ain't nebber writ back to me and I done quit payin' her any raind. "Cep'n de rheumatiz, I'se in good health and gits around pretty r.-oort. Cle l.Iistis showed rae how to read print and I ain't never fer- ;ot how. De Yankees didn' know dat I could read, and I never did let on. I kin see pretty well but hafter put on my glasses to read de i-int. ShoJ I'se gwine to live to be a hunded years oldZ How ¦:j.ny no' years I got to go? Ten. Dat's right. I know I'se good fer dis year, 'cause I alluz notice dat ef I live lind, but wliose mind is clear in regards to things pertaining to the long ago. "Aunt iuinie" says that things that happened when she was a child are much Lore vivid in her mind than are things of today. She said "Sumtimes I now stap4 s tuli 6.0 dunpin' an* fogits what I wants tuh do, den I ahs tuh go bac' tuh de j l&ce whar I started from so I kin 'member whats I started tuh do". ] nAunt Annie" was born on Knight's Blaee on the Alabama River, June 2nd., j 853. This place is now known as Finchburg, in Monroe County, Alabama. Her j' other's name was Mary Knight and her father's name Atlas Williams, who had the H me name as his owner Mr. Of ford Williams. "Aunt Annie* s" mother* s people ive owned first by Mr. Cullen Knight affcd after his death, were owned by Mr. I blm Marshall, i \ "Aunt itnnie" was seven years old then the Civil War started, end that she H A "nursed two cullered chillun afore de war.rf j[. When asked "by the writer about nursing thses childred, so as to he sure she I ic- colored children, she replied, "dat de slaves libed on de plantation, and 1 y had. an overseer who libed on dis place, anf she neber seed de Marshallfs j ace 'til after dey wuz freed. As I growed bigger into a big yearlin1 gal I l |2 tuk intuh de overseer's horae to 'tend tuh de dinin' room table sich as set- j 1 ¦ p' hit an' washin' de dishes an' cleanin' up, an' later on I wuz showed how j iron, spin thread, weave cloth, and make candles. Honey, folks talkin' f I >ut depression now don't kno* nothin' 'bout hard times. In dem days folks I in't hab nothin' 'ceptin' what dey made. Eben if yo? had a mint ob money, ¦ fe wuz nothin' to buy. We made decandles to burn by tying stringd on the sticl J putt in' dem down in melted taller in moulds. In dem times we had no matches ?- Iks made fire by strikin' flint rocks together an' de fire flroppin' on cotton. I J°fc't know whether dese rocks were ones dat de Indians l*eff or no, but dey 1 -2- Wpek edning May H, 1957* Ha B. Prine , - i/ee* Identification CTo. OI49-5302. t>o4 e 9r0 Federal Writers' Project, Dist.2. b"d0 WPA Project 3014, Mobile, Ala. "AUNT" ANNIE STANTON, A SL12S. WRITTEN BY ILA B. BRINE. wuz fiif'rent from other fo&ks. People usta carry dsm an* de cotton roun' in boxes sumtin lak snuff boxes tuh keep de cotton dry. Sumtines when dey eould* nt feet de fire no odder way, dey would put de cotton in de fireplace and shoot ( up in dere an' set hit on fire". "Aunt Annie" said she nefrer could start a fire with the flint rock and cotton, and she shid, "de fust matches and lantern I'se eber seed wuz when de , Yankees cum tuh dere place, I th'ot dey wuz two officers, 'xouse dey had de matches and lantern. Two years a'ter I wuz freed, an* twar den I seed man fi -> first lamp". "De men did mos' ob de farm wurk, dey planted cotton, corn, potatoes, eane, peas and pumpiins, an' dey ginned de cotton by hitching four horses tuh de in, and dey run hit dat way". When asked if they had plenty to eat when they were slaves, "Aunt Annie" ,1 1 said: I 'I "Lor, yes I guess we had 'nough, but, 'tearn't much, Case I 'members } when we wuz li'l chillun we had a feig wooden tray dat dey put de food in and j i we all set 'round dat an' et like li'l pigs. De rations for a week wuz 3 lbs ( of laeat a week, 1 peck ob meal, potatoes an' syrup. At Chrifctmas times de \ overseer called all de men an? women in an' gib each woman a dress, a head I 1 fchndkerchief, an' tuh de men he gave a hat, knife, an'' a bottle of whiskey. I De overseer also gib tuh us flour and sugar fo' Christmas, an* I ^members one I Christaes when I wuz a li'l gal a'ter de overseer gib all de women a dress cere w&s a short pdece ob cloth lef an' he gib dat tuh me". "Aunt Annie" said 'dat se ..laves went tuh de white folks church, an' sot on de seats on de out- side ob de church, an' dat church was a hewed log building. Atter de white Iciks 6ot thro' preachin' den de cullered preacher would preach. Sumtimes dw ! ?feek ending May 14, 1937. s-260 Ila B. Prine, Identification N0. OI49-5302. Federal Writers' Project, Dist.2, WPA Project 3014, Mobile, Ala. -3- 355 "AUNT" ANNIE STANTON, A SLA17E. j I Written by Ila B. Prine. j t cullered folks would hab church when de white folks didm't an' den de slaves woij would hab tuh get a pass from his owner, 'ca'se dere would be some mean folks Khfet would beat de niggers ef day didn't hab a pass from dere owners or bosses.rJ ".aunt Annie" also said, "I'se neber hyeard of no hoodoo stuff 'til in late ears dey's mo' ob dat foolishness now dan I'se ebber hyeard of in man life. owadays de hoodoos doctors, what is alluc agoin* 'round foolin' folks out ob ey money, looks lack de gogs might ob ahd dem dey is so turrible Jookin'. I , on't believes in dem* Us folks a iong time ago neber hab no money fof dem to tf Us had tub. make own medicine. Mien de babies had de colic us wud tie sooti in a rag anf boil it, and den gib dem de water, an1 tuh ease de prickly heat I used rotton wood powdered up fine, and fof de yellow £hrash us would boil de 1 eep thrash anf gib em de tea". I I I "Aunt Annie" has been married twic§, har first husband left her years ago, I i i i .en she aarried Loiiis Stanton and had five children by him. Louis was killed i]S I h nailstrom, April l^th, I9O3, and all of her children are dead. She si now ! ¦ jing cared for by friends, and she said, "that ef I'se didn't git a li'l he'p | >& de C-overrnaent tuh gib dis frien*, she didn't know shat she would de as \ \ i \ nas been totally blind Mr two years. j jjjj. -^iPHY: Personal interview with "Aunt Anni@n Stanton, Rylands Lane, Mobile, Alabama. Aipherne . bertha Couric, Al8^"' D. A. Oden, ";-,c sho' did tan us hides wid a bresh. "Me an' Carlotta; us calls her Lottie; was married in de ol' Leant, ..:aris church, whar all de niggers wejit to meet in1 every Sunday. Us "rd fo' chillun, tv/o gals an' two boys; but dey all dead now ' cept de l?s' boy, an' I ain*t heard frum him since 'fore his mammy died. "Yes, Iv-assa, her was a good v/oman. It won't be long now 'fore i.2 -ill walk dem golden streets nan' in nan1. •ifs'i. Copy, K£.Kleln' 359 E. C. Crow, Editor. CORNSHUCKIN' WAS DE ; / ----------.--- ^ i , GREATES' THING* George Strickland, alert for all his ninety-one years but blinking in the bright sunlight as he laid his battered felt hat be- side the rocking chair in front of his cabin in Opelika, Alabamai s€ be looked back down the decades and remembered the times when "corn- shuekin1 was de greates* thing." Though only a boy when the War between the States ended, he recalled days of slavery easily as he told the following story. "I was nine years old when us niggers was sot free an1 'fo* dat time us refugeed from Mississippi to Mobile, den to Selraa, den to Mont- gomery an1 from dar to Uchie, near Columbus, Georgia, whar we stayed 'til us was freed. BMy mammy an' daddy come from Mississippi fust. Dey was Cleve- land an1 Eve Strickland an' dar was fo1 of us chilluns, Will, Sam, Missouri an' me. Us quarters had dirt flo's an4 was in two long rows wid a street between. On de east side of de settlemunt was de barns, shops an' sich like. De beds was boxed up an' nailed to de wall, den dey was filled wid pinestraw. Dey fed us li'l niggers in wood troughs v nac'e of poplar. De cook in de big house cooked pots of greens an1 po'd potllkker an1 all in de troughs. Us et hit wid mussel shells or *id usses nan's or gourds. Our wimmin folks would bile de gourds to keep dem from being bitter. Usses had a two acre paster dat usses *ouid turn under in de fall an* plant hit injturnips. I 'clare fo' goodness dey growed nearly as big as a gallon bucket. "Dey glved us clo'es ev'y Saddy night an* de winter clo'es had some cow hair in dem to make 'em warm. "01 • Marsa John Strickland was clr^ujjt__^reacher an' him an' Alabama - £ - 360 Miss Polly lived up in a big log house. De logs was hewed an' split an' lined on each side. De iogs stood on dey sides an' didn' lay flat. Dey chilluns was Mary, Laura, Sallie, Wiley, G-eorge an' Lougene. "When 01' marsa went off to preach, de overseer was mean an1 whupped de niggers so bad Migtis runned him off. Dey had 'bout a hundred slaves an' would wake dem up by beating on a big piece of sheet lne (iron) wid a long piece of steel. HDe well didn* hab no windless but had a lever wid a bucket fastened on one end of hit, an' we would hold to de yuther end to dip de bucket in de water. "When dey whupped de niggers dey would tie dem to a tree an* whup dem good. When dey was sold dey would put 'em on a stand or block, as dey called hit den, an' dey w'ud roll up dey sleeves to see de mus- cles . Den dey bid on dem an' bought 'em for 'bout |l,000 to $1,500 apiece. Us traveled in ox carts an* I fust rid on a stage when I went to Uchle. When slaves would be ver* bad dey would chain dem out all n:.ght. You sho1 had to stay at home an' wuk. "Our chu'ch was nearby an' us sot nex' to de do'. Mistis call- ed up all de li'l niggers, talked to dem an' had pra'r. De yuthers i nad pra'r meetin' oncet a week. "Be wimmin folks had a big time quiltin's wid somebody aplayin' on oV gourds wid horse hair strings, called old gourd, horse hair dance. "Cornshuckin' was de greates' thing of all. Oi1 Marsa tuck a jiu- of Hk^er 'roun' an1 got dem tight an' when dey got full dey would -"-'ist him up an' down, tote him 'roun* an* holler. Den de fun started ?n' dey would play de old gourd an' horse hair dance,(de nan1saw an' c&pe knife. Dey could run dey nan' up an' down de saw to change de tune an' de leader was on top of de pile of corn singin' whilst all de Alabama - 3 - yuthers would follow. J MUs chilluns was 'sleep den, but us had our good times hi din' de switch an' j>layin* han'-over ball. Dey sho' skeer us nearly into fits wid tales of Rawhead and Bloody-bones. HIfse never tuk a oath ner teched nothin' dicta1 b'long to me in all my life. "Our med'cin' was ^erus'lem oak seed what was beat up to give de chilluns for worms. H0n Sund' mprnin1 dey giv' us blskits Jfer breakfast, which was so rar' dat we would try to beat de yuthers out ten dey'n. "Oncet dey piled ev'ythin' on waggins an' put all us li'l nig- gers on top. Us rations, lak coffee, meal, meat an' mos' ev'ythin' was kivvered over wid sheets. Den dey tuk us off an' us stayed t'ree days an1 nights. "011 marsa tuk one of de fellers wid him to be on de front line to help keep off de Injuns, so us chilluns b'lieves. "Dat battle of Atlanta was de wust thing dat'8 ever been. All de houses for a furrpiece jes1 shuck from de big guns. De Yankees camped in a big hundred acre fiel' close by. Den dey rushed up to de house, kicked de gate down, tuk Miatiss trunk out an* bus' hit open huntin' money. But dey foun' none,so dey sot fire to de house an' ast, whar de horses? De niggers couldn' tell an' den dey burnt de house down. "Atter dat, Ol1 Marsa tell us;us is free from horn but needn't leave iff en us didn' want to go but could stay on wid him an' he'd treat us right an* give us half of what us made. "In after years I ma'ed Josephine Bedell an* us had George, Phillip, Renza, Eldridge Ide baby), May Willie an' leila. I's got some gran-chillun, too, but kain't think of dey names. iiiabama - 4 - 362 "Hit was de plans of G-od to free us niggers an' not Abraham Lincoln's. "I's allus tried to live under de correction.......oX.de Lord. Hit's my duty to try to do so." Washington Copy, 6/15/37. U H. Ai«iVK*mj3 Ila B« Prlne, w.. >.¦>> Mobile, Alabama. 363 A SLAVE IS GIVEN HIS YOUNG MISSY'S NAME. A tall, s£eee-shouldered, black ^egro man came trudging down the road with a hoe in his hand* Asked where Cull Baylor lived, the old man, said MLady I§se Cull Taylor. Dis is mah house here. Does you want to see me?" A / When told, that his visitor was looking jofr old people who lived during slavery days Cull said: "I were born a slave, but warn't very old when de niggers was freed. I were born March 5, 1859, in Augusta County, Alabama. Mah maw come from Richmond, Virginia and her name were Jane Ware. Mah paw's name were Williagham nare, and he were brought to Alabama from worth Carolina. I guess you'se wonderln* why mah name is Taylor when mah maws and paws same was «are? "You see when dey was fust brought here, a man name Tom Taylor bought 'em, an' when I were born, dey gib me to Miss Bennie Taylor. Oi1 Marse Tom's girl. Miss Bennie gib me de name '-Taylor an1 I*se allus kept hit. She shorely was good to me. I neber had nothing much to do, 1 stayed wid her, 'til 1 was grown, atter she married Mr. Bob Alexander. M,Bout de war, I does 'member how mah maw was a-weavin' cloth men de lan&ees come through. An' atter de niggers was fseed ol' Marse ¦on gib mah maw de loom. 901' Marse was a good man. we neber 'lowed no o'seer or anybody :o mistreat his niggers. He had plenty of 'era, too, and a big plan- tation wid plenty to eat. Course de slaves had to work on de plantation an raise de stuff to eat. *ils house was a felg fine, white place, an1 de cabins whar de slaves libed was built in rows, wid streets between clem, so you could drive 'tween 'em wid big double team wagons. De Alabama - 2 - 364 cabins was built out ob logs wid a notch cut in de shoulders, an1 laid on top ob one another an' when dey built de wall up as high as dey wanted hit, dey would bore a augor hole an4 put a pin in hit to hold 'em together. Den dey put de roof on. Dey filled de cracks between de logs wid mortar, so as to keep de wind out, an* it sno' made de houses warm. Us had Jes' wooden home-made beds, wid mattresses made of cotton, or moss, an* some- times hay. Us neber hab no springs on de beds. "As * said, 01' Marse Tom was a good man, an* he was too old to go to de war, but he had two boys. De oldest one went to de war an* was killed. But de youngest warn't old enough to go. 01' Marse Tom had de women sew, makin* clothes, an* had nurse women to look atter de little niggers while dere maws was in de fields. I 'members as a li'l boy how dey had one house whar de nurse kept de chillun an* it was as clean as a pin. Dere was wooden troughs different heights for de different age hillun, an* dose troughs was scrubbed as white as cotton mos*. When meal time come, dey would crumble up combread wid pot licker, or milk n' gib to de youngest onsa. An' dey had plenty ob milk, I 'members de ig milk diary, an' smoke house on de place, an* when de Yankees come trough dey went into de dairy an* drank all de milk dey wanted, I 'members mah paw was out in de woods hi din* de mules when dey some tnrough an' dere was only one oldiorse on de place. Dem Yankees :urn hit loose, but otherwise dey behaved very nice." Cull said that they didn't know anything about dishes and spoons ucn as are used now, for they had wooden spoons for the slaves, lie said hat the usual rations for a week included a peck of meal, and six or even pounds of meat to eacn man, and if he had a big family he was given ore. Tney raised rice, sugar cane, pumpkins, watermelons, cuehaws, eacnes, pears, plums and grapes, "fcah white folks not only tuk keer ob us durin* slavery times, but Alabama - ,3 - 365 iey gib us things atter us was 4&reed. You ax me, 'bout de slaves clothes? *as'm, lady, us had good, stout, clothes iaade out ob de cloth dat de women wove. I can see mah maw throwing dat ol' shlckle from one side to de other, weaving cloth on dat loom. Dey dyed de cloth wid red oaks an' dogwood bark, and Chinaberry bark, and had all kinds ob colors, sich as blue, red, brown, and black. "Den dere was de big times, sich as de h^g.killin' time, an' corn shucking, an' 'specially cotton pickin' time. Sometimes de neighboring plantation would hab a regular cotton pickin' festival, an' all ob us would go and he'p pick de cotton, and de nigger what would pick de mos1 would git a dress or de men would git a suit ob clothes. De suits was made out ob ausenberg, and sometimes bed tickin'* When a big crowd would come to dese cotton pickin's, dey would pick out three or four bales ob cotton. MDe li'l niggers had a good time playin* in de sand makln* frog hou- ses, an' 8pinnin' tops. But, ^ordyi when us got sick, dey gib us Jerusalem oak and sassafras tea. But neber was dere anything said 'bout hoo-doo stuf. 1 never heard ob hit, 'til dese later years. "But us did hab church, an' prayer meetin', an' funeralsJ l»or*, yes, dey don't bury folks now. in dose days dey started singin' at de house an' sung all de way to de graveyard; an' den dey put dem in de groun' good full six feet deep, dey jes* lays folks on top ob de groun* now-a-days. But times is different now, lady. "I 'members how de men would go out nights an' hunt de possums an' de coons, and wild cats. Dey den would sometimes go deer an' rabbit nuntin* in de daytime; an1, too, dey would set traps to ketch otner varmints. Dere was plenty ob squirrels too. But let me tell you, de bes' thing ob all, wuz de good locust beer, dey made from locust seeds. Dey also made * Simmon beer, an* wine Alabama - 4 - 866 out ob plums. Dem war good days den. BIBLIOGRAPHY: Personal interview with Cull Taylor, 364 N. Scott Street, Mobile, Alabama. Wasnington Copy, 7/30/37. L. H. fclm Proctor Mill*, 10£46 Page On. to Clay street, Ltgomery Alabama. „-¦--'*".....~^ * ' ~~ (.EX^LAVES//IN AND NEAR MOKTG(aiEIRY,AlAEAIv1A# UNCLE .D6KIEL gAYLOR Foreword:- In Uncle Daniel Taylor we find the unusual,fast disappearing type of negro ex-slave (it makes the sentimental white man feel a deep sadness in the pasS -ing of these gentle old souls,whose lives have been weluUspent inserving to the best of their ability.) Uncle Dan is a light complected mulatto (octoroon) with a high and broad forehead (a noble brow) devoid of all negroid features,a heavy suit of silk like hair almost frse.'df any kinks,a heavy suit of gray beard (it is in the short kinky hair next to his throat that the negro stands out most promine -ntly) a fine moustache which matches the snowy silkiness of his hair upon his head. Deep set,dark bluesgrey eyes which beam with kindliness,wide apart and far -searching. A voice well modulated and refined in timbre,of tenor quality. Uncle Dan has been so closely associated with the educated white man of the South until he uses no negro dialect,but his speech is that of one who has tried at all times to speak correctly and deliberately. He has served as janitor at nearly ell of £h» Public Schools of the Montgomery City Schools system,and,for fifteen years briiaoreii y*mm has been at the Baldwin High School(Is janitor at this school at present (-ay/±937) where he is highly respected,and greatly beloved by the student body -i. and members of the large faculty. tf3trange to say,I do not remember the name of my first master,nor of the second raster to whom my Mother and myself were sold to in Alabama. I was born at Charles- ten, Jouth Carolina,and at the age of two and a half years we landed at Luverne,Ala#, where vrith my Mother I was sold for four-hundred dollars." "I v/as fourteen years old at the time of the Surrender I and was living at old ' 'hoeky Mount1 in Crenshaw County,at the time of the fCivil VJar.T Page Two TProfessor Mack Barnes of Highland Home,Alabama was the first man I ever worked for,and he,as you know,was at the head of the large school located in Highland Home." "The hottest moment^of my life were the ones in which my Mother got tight in be- hind me with a hickory(switchf and I always took to the woods• I'll just bet that I knew and could tell more about the woods and the cane-brake than anyone in that sect- ion. Yes sir! I knew every varmint that crawled on its belly,and all the rest which vjent on four feet,that lived there. Believe me fI knew every one of them by name and right where they staydd*" "The hot moments just mentioned usually found me ' cooling offT in the creek in the old swiinminT hole." "Among the thrilling moments of my life well do I remember the visits of Presi- > dent Jefferson Davisithe first and only President of the Confederate States of Amer- ica) to the home of my Master. Mr• Davis always gave me a quarter of a dollar for hoi -ding his horse,and up *til lately I had one of those quarters as a highly valuecU-^ Iccop-sake.but it suddenly disappeared,I know not where." "The most exciting moments of my whfile life was when the Herron Street School (at present the Cottage Hill School) caught fire and burned to the ground* We had narched all of the children out of the building to safety (you see v/e had all had dis -ciplined fire drills)but Professor Charles L.Floyd (Superintendent of the Montgara* ery Public Schools)was mindful lest there should still be one person left in the building,so hastened back into the rapidly burning building. He just wouldnft list- en to the pleadings of Miss Jinny(Miss Virginia, Hereford)who was the Principal of this school) nor to Hiss Sophy (Miss Sophia Holmes) a teacher in the primary depart- ment,nor would he listen to my humble plea. The roof was already tumbling in,and the blazing rafters were falling in every direction. I could stand it no longer,so rushed right through the smoke and'flames,finally I found Mr.Floyd and dragged him Page Three out to safety. My GodJ I loved that white man,he was one of the finest men I ever k newJ" "NoJMister John,I have never sought a fheroeTs medal for bravery and for ris -king W life' ,my one great reward was in the saving the life of my true friend Pro -fessor Charles L»Floyd«" John Proctor Hills, ::ay 31st. 1937. (664 words) 369 Alabama I:La B. Prine, r,*yr\ Mobile, Alabama. 1 \ $# OHILLUK WAS TAUGHT ;? * ^ • 7 -¦ TO BE MANNERABLE. "" George Taylor, a low and very black man, who lives at 409 South Hamilton street, in Mobile says he is an ex-slave. He knows that he was born in Mobile on the corner of Cedar and Texas streets, but left Mobile, and was carried to Gosport, Alabama, when he was twelve years old. His father's name was Gus Taylor, and his mother's Sarah Taylor and they were owned by Mr. W. G; Herrin. There were twenty-one children in George's family, and he said he was the oldest one, and helped "nuss de odders.w MMah grandfather's name was MacWilson an' mah grandmother's name was Ellen Wilson, an* de ol» Miss's name was Miss Mamie Herrin. All de colored folks' chillun called Mr. Herrin 'Cl' Marster,' an' he sho* was a good marster, too. I 'members dat atter I got to be a big boy dey put me in de fiel's choppin' cotton, but I neber could pick cotton. I knows dat mah paw said I was too crazy 'bout de girls, so he tuk me an' made me plow. * "01' marster had a big place, I don't Jes1 exactly knows how many acres dey was, but I knows us had plenty ob cotton, 'ca'se sometimes dey would pick four or five bales a day. An' den I knows durin' cotton time mah paw hauled cotton all day long to de gin whut was run by five or six mules. "Durin* de busy season on de plantation ol' Marster had de older women cookin1 an' sendin' de dinner to de fiel*. Dere •vps two big baskets, one to put de bread in, an' de odder basket to put de meat in. Every mornin' at three o'clock de women be- gun cookin1 an' each nan' brought his own meat an' bread to this cabin to be cooked.' Every person's plate had their names on 'em. ^ver'body had to be up by daylight an' ready to begin work. De Alabama - 2 - men had to get up before daylight an' begin to harness de mules, an1 soon as light dey was in de fiel's. Dere was two hundred and fifty head ob colored people, sousing chillun. Dey would raise four, five, and six hundred bales ob cotton, a year,Us worked den, dere warn't no walkin' 'bout den, not eben on Sat'day atternoons, but I believes I'd lack it betta dan I does now, 'cause de chillun was taught to be raannerable den, but now dey cuss if you say any- thing to dem. "Us had a good place to stay, de ol' Marster's house was a big two-story house, an1 out cabins was built ob boards an' was in a row. Us didn't hab no stoves, Jes1 cooked out in de yard Y ooer a fire wid stakes on each side of hit, wid an1 iron bar across 'era to hang de pots on. 01' Marster rationed out de food, an' each man was 'lowed seven pounds ob meat, de women was 'lowed six pounds an* five pounds for each child. Den dey gib us a peck ob meal, five pounds of flour and some molasses. . "I neber did eat at nome wid mah folks, 'ca'se I fussed in de bigiDuse, an' ebery time dat de white chillun eat, I had to eat, too. Dere was plenty ob pe^^n, walnut, an' ches'nut trees on de place, an' us could eat all de nuts us wanted; and den de slaves had dere own gardens if dey wanted to. "Den I 'members how dere was four men who put de hogs in de pens to fatten, sometimes, dey would put as many as a hundred or a hundred an' fifty at a time, Den hit was dere duty to tote feed from de fiel's to feed 'em. "My! when I think ob dat big smoke house, mah mouth Jes' waters. At hog klllin' time, dere was certain men to kill, an' certain ones to cut 'em up. Dere warn't neber no special time to hog killln', Jes' when de ol* Marster said do hit, we did hit. "You see us was allus under his direction, 'ca'se if us Alabama - 3 - v/anted to go anywhere, us had to git a pass, eben to church. De white folks had Methodist church, an' de collored had de Baptist church. "I also 'members de time I was put up on de block to be sold, an' when de man only offered f^.ve hundred dollars, fer me, an1 01' Marster tole me to git down, dat 1 was de mos' valuable nigger he had, 'ca'se I was so strong, an1 could d£ so muck work, Mah maw was de weaver, an' dere was a woman named Assella who did de dyeing. Mah paw gathered de bark, sich as red oak, elm, maple and Juniper bark, an' dry hit an' den grin' hit up. Dey also used borax, alum and blue stonex, to set de dye. De women made de clothes out ob dis cloth dat was woven on de place. "You axed 'bout weddin's. Us didn't hab weddin's lack us do now. De way us married would be to go to de big house, an' ql' Marster had us to jump over a broom stick, an' den us was con- sidered married. yBut dere was one thing dat us warn't 'lowed to ~ do, an1 dat was to abuse or cuss our wives, an' you betta not strike 'em. ca'se hit would be Jes' too bad.\ "You know, Miss, I'se been here a long time. I 'members tfhen dere was on}.y one house 'tween St. Louis Street an' Frascati, an1 dat was de Guard House. I also 'members de ole time remedies "?t dey used in de ole days, Dey used red oak bark for fever an' colds, an' den dere was horehound, an' black snake root dat de ol' Marster put whiskey on. 01' Marster made his own whiskey. An' oh! yes, de calomus root growed in de woods whar dey lived. I • neber seed dem send to no store for medicine. I neber hyeard ob no hoodoo stuff, 'til I was grown, an' anudder thing folks didn't die of-lack dey do now. When any one did die, dey allus had a oig funeral, an' de men would sometimes hitch up a ox team or mule Seams, an' as many as could git in would go. De coffins was home Alabama - 4 - 373 made an1 stained. Dere was plenty ob han's to dig de graves, too. HI!se tell you, Miss, folks is pretty much de same, if de white folks treat de niggers right, you couldn't get dem to leave dem. I 'members when de Yankees come through, I was standin1 on de 01' Marster's porch, an1 I seed dem comming, an1 Marster got ur; on his crutch an1 go to de steps an' invite dem in, an1 believe me dey come in, too* Dey jes1 natcherly tore up ol' Marster's place; then de furniture all 'roun' an' broke heaps ob hit. I knows b'fore dey got dere ol1 Marster had mah paw, an' Jerry Lee, an1 Maco^ouncey, an1 anudder man take four barrels ob money an' carry down to de spring an' put hit in de spring, an' I'se tellin' you; Miss, you couldn't any more git near dat spring, dan nothin1, ca'se de quicksan1 made dem barrels boil up, one at a time, an' de way dey had to git dem barrels, was to buil' a scaffold from de river, an' let a line down an1 ketch aroun' dem barrels. Atter we was freed, 01' Marster come out in de yard an' got in de middle ob all ob us, an* tole us dat de ones dat wants to stay wld him, to stan1 on one side, an1 de odders to stan' on de odder side. So mah paw got on de side wid dose who wanted to leave, an1 us lef' Ol1 Marster an' paddled down de river, in a oaddlin' boat to Bellefs Handing. HAs I'se said before, I*se been here a long time, I eben {members seeing Jeff Davis. I knows I ain't here for long, but *'se ready, 'ca'se I'se been fightin' for Jesus twenty-nine years, p''i' I ain't tired ob fightin1 yet. I'se a Deacon in de Baptist Church. BIBLIOGRAPHY: Personal interview with George Taylor, 409 South Hamilton Street, Mobile, Alabama. .''"shington Copy, 8/16/37. L. H. bek eEdinA April 3Q» 19P- Ha B. Printi- '.-'¦¦ ¦¦ \^'' | ¦ Identification No. 01$9-5302. L.c)fio Federal Writers' Project, Dist.2. WPA Project 3*1$, Mobile, Ala. AMANDA 1BLLIS, A SLATTl. (Written by Ila B. Prine.) .ijaahdo Tellis, a tall, thin, light lulatto woman, who was born a slave ^oveoiber 30, 1854, lives in Allenville, a negro settlement about four miles ortii of iiiobile , Bahama. Luanda's father was a Spaniard, whose name was John Ouiek, and her fcotiier's iiciae was Sal..ie Fugh, Her mother having the same name as the people he ov.Tiec her. Sallie, Amanda* s Mother, was ,orn a slave in Charleston ou-cii Carolina, and she snd her mother were vrought to iJ.abama and sold when Hie was twelve years old. The mother was sold to someone in Demopolis, l^'otjiia, elrile Sallie was sold to the pugh family in Grove Hill, Alabama. .^aanda was born in Grove Hill, Alabama and Mr. Meredith Pugh was her ester, and krs Fannie Pugh was her mistress. Her young "Missus'* was Miss Jairt. iUfah a daughter, one of seven children in the Pugh family. Amanda aia she willed to "Miss Liaria" and she nursed and took care of her until the rrfcuder. kany times when ^menda would be promised a whipping for not doing linjs as she should have. Miss karia rould save her from the whipping, by Jii-G-.ving herself back from the table and screaming for them not to touch |uancia, ner nurse. ^side from caring for "Miss karia", Amanda said she spun three cuts of rot-d a say, .and when the writer ssked v/hat a cut was, she said: "A cut was broach full." During the war, (meaning the Civil V7ar,) Amanda said she and r sister x.ancy spun 160 yards of cloth, and they finished the last on the y 01 -cue Surrender, wiien the Caiuons were fired at Fort Margan, and they re -uustering the men put. -¦ananda * s life was a very easy one in'eomparision to some of the other t-ves. She said she had seen many of the slaves cruelly mistreated, but people were fortunate in having a good master end mistress. :/eeic ending April 30, 1937.. 375-2-. Ila B. Prine, ! 3-260 Identification No. OI49-5IO2. Federal Wirters* Project, Dist.2. WPA Project 3014, Mobile, ila, iiMidSDA'"TELLIS, A SLAVE. (Written by Ha B. Prine.t o-vever, at the close of the war, Luanda was told to pretend she had a child, :iid ,..0 to her mother's cabin, so she did as she was told. When she reached tie cabin, her mother, brothers and sisters each had a pillow slip, filled v;itlx clothes ciic she was given hers and they ran away, and came to Mt. Vernon, : ..Icb&iua. Amanda was only eleven years old then. Aer life had been varied since, having married three times. Her first ! i husband was Scott Johnson, ana "was the father of all of her children, seven I ooys aid one ^irl. Riinanda lives with this girl now. Her second husband v/as R£? kunce dtokes, and her third was S. T. Tellis, a negro Methodist preacher. jj «manda said her T.vas *no count and I did not stay with him long." j .-iianda is now confined to her bed and has been for the past seven weeks, ;1 \ Her ~ody has wasted away, until she is skin and bones. Her eyes however are st-i stiii bright and keen, her hair snow white and she still has a few teeth. Her f idihti seems to be clear, and her memory good, in fact the past is now a pert j 01 aer, si6. she told the writer she was so happy because she had come to ask I her uuout it, before it was too late. I [--•iC.-iUiTfY: Personal interview with Luanda Tellis, and her daughter Sarah •--tsto.ii^ in ,-llenville, Mobile County, Alabama. (FKOTG) o/'O TABLE SERVICE AS TAUftHT TO AUNT ELLEN > In a little cottage at 310 Wienacker Avenue, in the western part of Mobile, lives Ellen ^homas, who claims to be 89 years old. She is small of stature, dark brown in color, with high cheek bones and small regular features. Although she wears the old-fashioned ban- dana handkerchief bound about her head, the story of "Aunt8 Ellen is unusual, in that having been raised as a house servant in a cultured Southern family, she absorbed or was trained in the use of correct speech, and does not employ the dialect common to Negroes of the slavery era. wAunttt Ellen was born in Mobile? Her mother, Emellne, was a dwarf who was brought from St. Louis to Mobile by a slave-trader. When put up for sale, her deformity enlisted the sympathy of Judge F. a. Kimball, who bought her and brought her to his home on Dauphin Street, between Hallett Street and Georgia Avenue. Later, sam Brown, a free isiegro from the west Indies, came to Mobile and, wanting Eme- llne for his wife, agreed to pay Judge Kimball for her, giving him- self as security. Sam and Emeline had only two children, Pedro and Ellen, both born on Judge ^lmball's place and raised in his home as house servants, having little contact with the fileld slaves. In her childhood, Ellen had as her special mistress Miss Cor- nelia, one of the Kimball girls, who trained her in the arts of good housekeeping, including fine sewing, which was itself an art among the women of that period. Ellen relates with much pride, her ability to put in tucks and back-stitch them in the front of men's shirts, to equal the best machine work of the present day. Although hampered by failing eyesight in recent years, her work with the needle today is proof that her claims are not exaggerated. Alabama -Sp- in all her experience as a slave, she recalls but one whipping. This was with a small switch in the hands of Judge Kimball. The cause? She answered? "I ain't coming," when he called her; and at his second call, she said: nI ahan't do it." She was seven years old at the time. Judge Kimball Insisted that the house servants use good English, she said. Thus brought up as a child among the Kimball children, and "because of her duties as a house servants, she mingled little with the field hands and acquired none of their dialect. Even her long asso- ciation with free ^egroes since the war, has failed to eradicate early impressions and practices in the use of words, and she stresses this in conversation with educated white persons. Because she was a house servant,, Ellen was accorded many pri- vileges not enjoyed by ordinary slaves. Good food, neat clothing and cleanliness of person were requirements rigidly enforced. As personal maid tro young girls little older than herself, her lot was quite and the association developed a devotion and friendship that was lifelong. Among the privileges that fell to her as a child, she recalls that of accompanying the family on carriage rides - usually seated beside the driver to the envy of her little mistress on the more dignified inside seat. Her training as a house servant was very broad and involved every feature of a well kept household of that period. She has es- pecial pride in her ability to serve at table, particularly when there were guests present. A feature of the training given her and which -Hen says she never knew of anyone else receiving was, after being taught to set the dining table complete for guests, she would be blind- folded and then told to go through the motions of serving and so learn to do so without disturbing anything on the table. So proficient did sne become in serving, that a few times when they had guests, Judge 377 is Alabama - 3 - o^'Q Kimball would for their amusement have Ellen blindfolded and direct her to serve the dinner. In passing dishes a small silver tray was used. iL'iien said, that they tried to t each her brother Pedro to serve the table likewise; but his natural clumsiness prevented. He could never learn. During the war, she said, her master had an immense pit dug near the nouse, put his cotton in the pit and built the woodpile over it. i'ne Federal invaders never found it. Judge ^lmball owned extensive tracts of land above Mobile and | used a large number of his slaves to cut timber for wood and lumber; | hewn timbers being largely used for house-building. He built a house I for every one of his children, from his own timber, and even had his I | own coffin made from home-grown cedar. Ellen failed to follow this act I | of ner master with approval, Judging from her tone in speaking of it. | She remembers the Surrender and the incidents accompanying that | event. She was seventeen years old. Thus she describes the first | visit afterward of the enemy. "I was helping to cook breakfast one I morning, frying codfish and potatoes, when I heard a drum and ran to I tell Master. &e jumped up and said: 'It's the Yankeesi Tell Pedro to | get a sheet and hang it out in front.' Pedro was excited and, instead I of getting a sheet, got one of Mistress' best table cloths and hung it [ f^oa a big oak tree near the front gate. When the Yankees rode up, \ "ney dismounted and faster invited them in for breakfast." One of the xankee lieutenants asked her name, and she told him: | "-lien Brown.i» rie looked puzzled at her answer, knowing her master's I r^:n- to be kimball. (Since her father was a free man, "Aunt" Ellen j 8-q'--d tnat sue and her brother, ?edro, always retained their own name, I i-stead of "Kimball,") The lieutenant then said: "All right, Ellen, | ^ing me a glass of milk at thirteen o'clock." Alabama - 4 - °"7 She went to her little mistress, and asked her "what that old lieutenant meant by 'thirteen o'clock.'" Miss Cornelia laughed and said he meant "one o'clock." 0 / "Aunt" Ellen related how Judge Kimball was (IJaVays teaching them and gave them regular lectures. She particularly remembers one of his sayings: "You can never swing on yellow pine tree , as it is tender and pliable." She remained with the Kimballs three years after the war, worked for other families a short time and then married Amos Thomas when she was about twenty years old. They had a very large family, eleven girls and nine boys. She now has great-grandchildren who are married. Although there is little doubt that her age is approximately what she claims, "Aunt" Ellen is reraarhably well preserved, physically and mentally. Her activity and industry would not be inappropriate to \ a woman a score of years younger. Unlike many persons of her years sue does not constantly look forward to her time of departure, but I takes life as it comes - caring more for today than for tomorrow, j Washington Copy, | 10/11/37 i I-* • .n • Alabama Montgomery^/X' * "t ¦)¦¦'¦¦ '/ r ?/.C^>-'>'*> HID THINGS THBY 880 AIN'T NBTTSR FOUND. Elizabeth Thomas who lives at 2 Eugene Street, Montgomery, Alabama stuck up one finger when asked her age* That meant 100 she said. She is typical the oldtime Negro with head rag tightly covering her hair, m*4ip» of an oM rtwwmiWit; carrying a slick old walking-stick whose bark is worn in places because of constant use, and little old straightcut full apron. Her memory is not clear but her hearing is perfect. She stated- "I lived mighty fine in dem days, I tel1 yoi^Blister Ben Martin Jones vtuz my Marster, and I wuz born on de Red Bridge Road. I wuz a house servant. All our clo'es wuz made at de quarters. My Mammy made mine an1 all I wanted, too. I useter hear my mammy say, de patteroles (patrols) would git us ef we done wrong but I didn't know nothin' 'bout patteroles, 'cause dey wuzn't none on our place. Dey whipped you.too, but ray Marster could control all his niggers so he didn't 'low none uv 'em on our place.n "I wuz 21 years ole when de Yankees come but I didn't run and dey didn't do nuthin' to me but folks was in such a hurry they hid things dat ain't never been foun* yet. I liked meetin' on Sundays an' sometime we never got outer church tell daylight. I wants to live jes' es long as Jesus say. an' when he se.y go, I'se ready. At Christmas times we always had good dinners and heap o' company; plenty uv it. My Missus died and atter dat my mother raised ole Marster1 s chile, Tommy John, right 'long wid me. 0. dem wuz happy days, I tell you." ¦»»rash. Copy, L. H. Alabama Susie R. O'Brien 3H. Jack Kytle I WAKN'T NO COMMON SLAVE Aunt Mollie Tillman was fifteen years old when the Southern slaves were freed; but despite her advanced age, she is able to work every day in the cotton fields and admits that she is ttpurty peart.* She said, "Honey, I kin ricollect all "bout slavery time, «caze I wuz a big olf gal den. Why, I 'members when de 'mancipa- tion come as if 't'was yestidy." Aunt Mollie recalls that she was born on a plantation near Rome, Georgia, and that her owners were Dan and Lucy Phillips. "Marse Dan wuz a Baptis* preacher," she explained/an' he ehorely wuz a good man. He wuz a chaplain in de big war and he didn't get hurt. "Marster owned lots an1 lots of slaves an' de plantation *&bl Jes' full o' niggers. He was, a powerful important man. "Honey, I warn't no common eve'yday slave* *ttB9» I hoped de white folks in de big house. Misvas Lucy wouldn't let 'em take me to de fiel'. Dem wees good days, chile; mighty good days. I ivuz happy den, but since 'mancipation I has jes' had to scuffle an' work an' do de bes' I kin." Aunt Mollie's hair is snow white in sharp contrast to her gin- ger- cake skin. "I 'members all 'bout when de Yankees come," she said. "Dey »«i jes' ruineration to de plantation. Dey tuck all de mules an' cows, den sont out an' got all de chickens an' eggs dey could fin'. Satin' was kind o' slack wid us atter dey lef." Aunt Mollie's life has known romance. Let her tell it: "I wuz ol' 'nough to be castin' my eyes 'roun' at de young ¦¦'. '¦ , ' .&UC&8, an' dare w»z a nigger what lived on de plantation Jlnin' Alabama - 2 - ^82 our'n what tuck a shine to me. I lacked dat boy fine, too. "He would come over to see me ever1 time he git a chanct. One night he 'low he gwine'r ax his marster to buy me so's me an' him could git married. Well, atter dat he didn' come no mo'. WI waited an' I watched, but I didn' hear nuffin of dat nigger. Atter 'while I got worried. I w&fc 'fraid de patterollers done kotch him, or maybe he done foun' some gal he lak better dan he do me. So I begin to 'quire 'bout him an1 foun' dat his marster done sol' him to a white man whCLt tuck him 'way down yonder to Alabama. "Well ma'am, I grieved fo' dat nigger so dat my heart was ^\a/ heavy in my breas'. I knowed I never would see him no mo'. Soon atter dat .peace was 'clared an' de niggers wet* free to go whar dey pleased. "My folks stayed on wid Marse Dan fer a year; den dey •cidedto go to Alabama an' farm. We hit it off to Alabama an' I begin to go 'bout some wid de young bucks. But somehow I couldn't git my min1 off dat other nigger. "Well ma'am, one day at a big meetin' I runned up on him. I wuz so happy I shouted all over dat meetin' house. We Jes' tuck up whar we lef off an' *fo' long us got married." And, Aunt Mollie continued, they lived happily until his death about 20 years ago. She now lives at Unlontown, happy and contented. She has her garden and flowers; but emphasizes that wde ol' days w&. de bes' of all." 'tfash. copy H.L.D. d-9-37 Alabama vtU*-**^ f~* ¦ Gertha Couric, oQQ ( M±>& John Morgan Smith. ooo -..'¦•¦•¦'ft) HE BELONGED TO BOB TOOMBS "JuJ^.? ------------------ , ^ OF GEORGIA. IPhoto) "Missy," said Alonza Fantroy foombs, "I'se de proudest nigger in de vrorl1, caze I was a slave belonging to Marse Robert Toombs of G-eor^ia,' de grandest man dat ever lived, next to Jesus Christ. He res de bes1 stump speaker in de State, an1 he had mo' frien's dan a graveyard has ghosts. He was sho a kin1 man, an1 dere warn't no one rivin1 v;ho loved his wife an1 home mo' dan Marse Bob. nSissyT "Uncle Lon continued, "he v.ras near 'bout de greates1 man dat eber come outen "e South. He were a good business man; he were straight as dey make !em, r.n' he sho enjoy playin1 a good joke on someone. * useta see him a ralkin' down de road in de early mornin1 an1 I knowed it were him f'urn a long distance caze he was so tall. I guess you knowed all 'bout his c-servin1 in de State legislature an' in de United States Congress an1 a-hein' a gen'l in de war an' him bein' de secretary of State in def 1 feeler ac; "I was bawn on Ivlarse Bob's plantation-in de Double Gpade Quar- ters. I..y pappy s name was Sam ^antroy Toombs an1 my mammy was Iaa- " ella "Toombs. In de slabery times I was too young to work in de fiel'a, so ..:y job was to hunt an' fish an' feed de stock in de evenin'. My ""-¦¦y was a preacher an1 Liarse Bob learnt him to read and write, an' '¦'*>v.L.l let him go f'um plantation to plantation on de Sabbath Day a- '¦rerchin' de gospel. He was Larse Bob's carriage driver. "Yas^'ra, white folks, Larse Bob was a good provider.,too. Us '-'-. ers et at home on Sundays, an' us had fried chicken, pot pies, aeon, beef, pork, an' hot coffee. On de udder days, our meals was "'::e" for us so dat de time us got for res' could be spent dat way. c" ^>adda:/ us stormed work at noon an' would come wid our vessels to Alabama - 2 - oit flour, sugar, .lard an1 udder supplies. My mammy's pots an1 pans vas so bright dat dey looked like silver, an1 she was one cyjr*de bes1 cooks in de lah'. She useta cook fine milk yeast bread an' cracklin' bread. All us slaves on Marse Bob's place was cared for lak de white folks. We had de white folks doctor to treat us when we was sick. We had good clothes, good food an1 we was treated fair. Dere warn't no mean peoples on our plantation. "White lady, I ^members Marse Bob's smoke houseflys' of all. 384 It had eve"*rthing in it f'um 'possum to deer; an1 de wine cellari Don't say nothin'.1 Dat was de place I longed to roam. But Marse Bob, he drink too much. Dat was his only fault. He hit de bottle too hard. I couldn't understand it neither, caze he lef' off smokin' in later years when he thought it warn't.good for him;, but he keppa drinkinl "I been ma'ied twice, Mistis, De fus time to Ida Walker. She died at childbirth; de little fella died too. Den I ma'ied Alice James, an' she*a been gone nighi on to twenty year now. My pappy, Rev. Sam Pantroy ma'ied me both times. "Atter de S'render, nary a slave lef1 Marse Bob. He gib eve'y ni^er over twenty-one a mule, some Ian' an* a house to start off wid. ^assum, List is, I kin read an' write; my pappy learnt rne how. I'm eighty-six year old now an' still goin' strong, ceptin' 'bout six years ago 1 had a stroke. But I come out all r^ght. I lives here wid *y sister an' she's good to me. De only thing lef1 for me to do is to bfer so.:ie of my fifejjh's." v.'ish dat when I cross dat rib^r I can slip back to de ole place to see 'flash. Copy, 16/2/37. U- • H # ;."—* Tuscumbia, Alabama m:r-w^- * * -V ..4ft. A ; PIS WAS DAT LONG AGO. ~ / (Photo). "It's been so long sence, I don1 'member much,11 William Henry (Bill) Towns said talking of slavery days. Towns ;was only seven when the Civil War began and his memories are those of childhood, which he mixes with reminiscences and opinipns of the older slaves with whom he came in contact immediately after the war. Towns knows the exact date of his birth. He says: "I was born in Tuscumbia, Alabama December 7, 1S54. Uy mother t v/as name Jane Smoots. She come from Baltimore, Maryland. My father's name was Joe Towns, and he come from Huntsville, Alabama. "I had a passel of brudders an' sisters; Charlie and Bob was ::;y brudders; Betty, Kate, Lula an' Nelie was my sisters. Dere vasn't but two of us endurin' slavery. Dat was me an1 Nelie de rest \as born atter slavery. He an' Nelie was T0wnses, the rest, Charlie, hate, Lula, Bob and Betty was Joneses. How dat come 'bout was dis away. Endurin' slavery my father was sold to anudder slave owner. Atter de war my mother married Frank Jones; den dese yuther chillun v?s born. MIt done been so long sence all of dis was * disremembers •lost 'bout it. Anyway, the Big House was a two-story house; '•h ite like raos' houses endurin1 dat time. On the north side of '.he Big House set a great, big barn, where all de stock an' stuff dat ':s raised was kep'. Off to de southwes1 of de barn an' wes' of de ¦lh House set 'bout five or six log houses. These house was ^'ilt facin' a space of grounded? center of a squa'e what de houses Anybody could stan' in his firont do' an' see in & ."JS Alabama - 2 - i at the front of de yuther houses, "Sometimes enduring' de week an1 on Sunday,too, de people would git together out in dis squa1 e an1 talk 'fore goin' to bed. The chillun what was too young to work was always out in de front playin'.j Jes' acrost from our place was anudder wid de quarters built 'mos' de same as ourn 'ceptln' iimm^ dey had a picket fence 'roun' de ) quarters to pervent 'era from runnin1 away. Course Mr, Young didn't have to worry 'bout Ms^han's runnin1 away, cause he wan't a mean man like some of de slave holders was. He never spoke harsh or whupped 'em, an1 he didn't 'low nobody else to do it neither, "I remember one day a fellow come from acrost on anudder farm an' spoke sumpin' 'bout Mr, Young bein' too easy wid his servants. He said, 'Them darn niggers will think they is good as you if fen you keep up de rate you goin1 now, Young,' Mr, Young just up an' told him if he ever spoke like dat again he 'd Call his bluff, Mr, Young told him de he didn't work his people like dey was oxes, "All of Mr, Young's hands liked him 'cause he didn't make 'em sleep on corn shuck mattressesa an' he didn't have dey meals cooked in a wash pot, A lot of de yuther slaves didn't know what it was to eat meat, lessen it was a holiday, Mr, Young flowed his people to eat Just what he eat, I hear my mother tell a tale 'bout a man what took a meat skin an' whipped his chillun's mouth wid it to fool folks like dey had some meat for dinner. Ole Caleb told one a lil?bit bigger'n dat, though. He said one night him an' a feller was comin1 from prayer meeting an' they runned 'crost a possum settin' in "ii»<*-C— root of a tree by de side of de road. He say he stopped to git him an' fe£t« yuther feller told him he wouldn't bother wid him 'cause Alabama - 3 Q he wouldn't git none of him no how. Caleb ast him why he said that. He said, ''£ause your ole master is gwine take him Jes' soon as you git homlwid him,' Caleb told him dat Mr, Houng wasn't dat kiner \ ) man, De yuther feller hoped Caleb to ketch dat possum, an' he got / a piece of him de nex1 night when everybody come in from de fiel'. Caleb said de ol* feller enj'yed de meat so much dat he wished he took him an' his family de 'hole possum. "We didn't live so ff>r from Big Spring Cfeek. Cose, we didn't do no fisMn', -cause we younguns had to Hend gaps-to ieep de ) cattle off'n de crops. De grownups had to go to de fiel1. Life was kiner happy durin' slavery 'cause we never knowed nothing 'bout any yuther sort of life or freedom. All we knowed was work from one en' of de year to de yuther, 'ceptin* on holidays. Den we'd y have to go to church or set around de fire an* lis'en to de old folks tell stories. The grownups would go to a dance or do sumpin' ) else for indertainment/*Cose us younguns got a heap of pleasure outten dem fairy tales dat was tol' us by de older ones. I know ma an' dem use to tell some of de awf'lest tales sometimes. I'd be 'fraid to go from one part of de house to de yuther wid outten soxebody wid me. Us younguns would had to play some sort of a game for indertainment, DefTe was a nhole lot of games an' riddles to be ) played dem days. It have been so long sence I played any of 'em I'se mos1 near disremembers de biggest part of 'em. I 'members a song or two an' a few riddles what ol1 Caleb use to tell us, De song goes sumpin' like dis: Saturday night an' Sunday, too, Had a yaller gal on my mind. Monday mornin', break of day, White folks had me gwine. ** Alabama - 4 - "De riddles was like dis; Slick as a mole, black as a coal, "Got a great long tail like a thunder hole. (Skillet) Crooked as a rainbow, teeth lak a cat, Guess all of your life but you can't guess dat. (black berry bush) Grows in de winter*dies in de spfcing> Lives wld de root 4tickin' straight up. (icicle) "Dere was anudder song what Caleb use to sing. It goes like dis; Whar you gwine buzzard? Whar you gwine c(6lr)w? Gwine down to de river to de jes1 so. '•Dere was a ]^hole lot more to dat song what I disremerabers. 11 Anudder song what comes to my min' is: Hawk an' de buzzard went down to de lawl When de hawk got back he had a broken jaw. Lady's pocketbook on de Judge's banch Haden' had.no use for a pocketbook sence. ' 388 "Sometimes I visits wid ol' Mingo White an' me an' him talks over dem days dat me an' him was boys. We gits to talkin' an' 'fore you knowf it ol1 Mingo is cryin' lak a baby, 'jjordin' to what he says he is lucky ter be alivin'. Dis is one thing I never.likes ter A talk 'bout. When slavery was goin' on it was all right for me 'cause I never had it hard, but it Jes' wan't right to treat human belli's dat way. If we hadn't a had to work an' slave for nothin1 we •.night have somepin' to show for what we did do an' wouldn't have to live from pillar to pos' now. "Speakin' of clothin', everything that we wore back den was made by han1. Many a night my ma use to set an' spin wid a spindle, * I have set an' done the cardin' for her so she could git her tas' done. In de summer we would wear un'erwear what was made outten 389 Alabama - 5 ~ cotton^ in de winter it was made outten flannel. De shoes was :nade of cowhide what was tanned right dere on de place. Dern was de bardes1 shoes I ever seen. Sometimes deyfd wear out ffore dey v-ys any ways soft, an1 den sometimes atter dey was wore out you couldn't hardly ben1 ! em. Some of dey han's would go barfooted until de fall an1 den wear shoes. Slippers wanft wore den. De fust pair of slippers I ever 'members havin1 was de ones what I V;u|hffor my weddin1. Dey didn't cos' but a dollar anf six bits. Ly weddin1 suit didn't cos1 but eight dollars, an1 a straw hat to ) m?.tch it cos1 six bits. \ "As I said afore, Massa Young an1 cl1 Misti? was mighty good j folks on 'count of dey never whupped any of they hanfs. If fen dere \ I / vas one dat would give trouble dey would git rid of him. De over- / seers had to be kin' to de hands or else he was outten a Job. De ehlllun was mighty nice, too. Ever1 time dey went to town or to de sto1 dey would bring us younguns some candy or somepin1. ^Joinin1 oMr farm was a farm whar de slaves fared lei dogs. Dey was always be^tin' on some of dem. uEver'body worked hard enduring1 dat time. Dat was all we thought we was 'spose to do, but Abe Lincoln taught us better'n u:"-t. Some say dat Abe wan't intprusted so much in freein1 de slaves ?s he was in savin1 de union. Don* taake no dif fence iff en he wan't Intrusted in de black folks he sho' done a big; thing by tryin* to ; 7 s^ve de union. Some of de slaveholders would double de proportion * r>? work so as to git to whip f em when night come. I heard my ma °°y after slavery that dey Jes' whipped de slaves so much to keep de--. cowed down an1 'cause dey might have fought for freedom much Alabama - "6 - sooner'n it did come, "Caleb come from N'Orleans, Louiseanner. He say dat many a day ship loads of slaves was unloaded dere an' sold to de one offerin* de nos' money for dem. Dey had big chains an' shackles on dem to keep 'em from gittin' away. Sometime dey would have to go a long ways to git to de farm, Dey would go in a wagon or on hoss back,' "Talk 'bout learnin1 to read an'''rite why iffen we so much as sTX>ke of learnin1 to read an1 'rite we was scolded like de debil. Iff en we was caught lookin* in a book we was treated same as iff en we had killed somebody, A servant bett'nt be caught lookin' in a book; didn't make no dlff'ence if you wan't doin' nothin' but lookin' at de pictuftps. "Speakin1 of church; we went to de same church as de white foiks \ did; only thing was we had to go in de evenin' atter de white folks, • De white folkes would go along an1 read de Bible for de preacher, an' to keep dem from talking of things dat might help dem to git free. Bey would sing songs like 'Steal Away,1 'Been Toilin' at the Kill So Long,1 an' 'Old-Time Religion,' "Ever once in a while slaves would run away to de N0rth, Mos1 times dey was caught an' brought back. Sometimes dey would git desp'rit an' would kill demse'ves 'fore dey would stand to be brought back, 0ne time dat I heard of a slave that had 'scaped and when dey tried to ketch him he Jumped in de creek an* drown hlsse'f. He was brought from over in Geo'gla. He hadn't been inAlabama long 'fore him an' two more tried to 'scape; two of 'em was caught an1 brought brck but dis yuther one went to de Ian' of sweet dreams, "After de day's work was done an1 all had eat, de slaves had to fco to bed. Mos' slaves worked on Sat'day Jes' lak dey did on Monday; that was from kin' to caught, or from sun to sun, Mr, Young Alabama - ? - never worked his slaves twell dark on Sat£day. He always let 'em omit 'roun' fo' 'clock. We would spen' dis time washin* an' bathin' to git ready for church on Sunday. Speakin' of holidays; de han's celebrated ever' holiday dat delr white folks celebrated. Dere wan't much to do for indertai nment, 'ceptin' what I'se already sAid. Ever1 Christmas we'd go to de Big House an' git our present, 'cause J ol' Mistis always give us one. -^ "Slaves never got sick much, but when dey did dey got de bes1. Dere was always a nurse on de farm, and when a slave got sick dey was righ' dere to give dem treatments. Back in dose days dey used all sorts of roots and yarbs for medicine. Peach tree leaves was one of de mos1 of en. Sassafras was anudder what was used of'enj hit was used mostly in de spring made in tea. Azaafitty was anudder what was use to keep you from havin' azma. Hit was wore 'round de neck in a lil bag. Prickler ash was anudder what was tooken in de spinr|jf. Hit was ' spose ter clean de blood. Some of de folks would use brass, cooper an' dimes wid holes in 'em to keep from havin' their rumertiz. "I was seben years old when de war commence. I 'members Mrs, Young said £»' when de Yankees come dey was goin' to ast us iff en dey had been good to us. She said dat they was goin' to ast us all •bout how much money dey had; an1 how many slaves what dey owned. She told us to say dey was po' folks an1 dat dey didn't have no money. I 'member my mother said dat she hoped Mr. Young and dem to hide deir money somers in a well dat wan't beln' used 'cause it gone dry. Dem Yankees sho' did clean up whar they went along. Dey would ketch chickens by de bunches and kill 'era an1 den turn 'roun' Alabama - 8 - 392 an1 make de ol' Mistis clean 'em an' cook 'em for dem. Dem Yankees set fire to bales an1 bales of cotton. Dey took de white folks close an' did away wld 'em. Sometimes dey would tear 'em up or give dem n to de slaves to wear. De war ended in sixty-five an1 I was eleben years ol1 den. "Jes' atter de war we was turned loose to go for ourse'f. What I mean by dat^we was free. I didn't mean that we lef * Mr. j Young's 'cause we stayed wid him for de longest atter slavery was/ over. "My fust work was in a blacksmith shop down on West Six Street, I worked for fity cents a dayjkden until I learned de trade, Atter I worked at de bkcksmith shop for about two years I took up carpenter* work. I served apprentice for three years. I followed carpent'ing the res' of my life. "I married Lizzie Anderson when I was twenty-one years ol'» She wan't but seventeen years ol*. We didn't have no big weddin', we jes' had de fambly dere. I raised ten chillun up until April de twenty fourth. That's when William Henry died. My chilluns doin1 pretty well in life. Dere's two of ray sons what's doctors, one is a carpenter. The other one is Grand Orator of the Shriners. l'-7 gals is doin' fine, too. Three of 'em is been school teachers, / one a beauty cuit'ist an' de other one a nurse. I feels s^i'fied •bout my chillun now. Dey seems to be able to make a livin' for they se'ves pretty well, "I thinks that A^e Lincoln was a mighty fine man even if he was tryin' to save their union. I don't like to taTs 'bout this that have done happened. It done passfed so I don't say much 'bout it, Alabama 393 - 9 - socially de Presidents, 'cause it might cause a 'sturbance right now. All men means well, but some of 'em ain't broadminded 'nough to do anythin' for nobody but themse'fs. Any man that tries to help humanity is a good men,H 7/ash. Copy 6-3-37 T.E.B. Alabama *\ 10228 STEPNEY UNDERWOOD The Court Jester John Morgan Smith. Editorial Staff i' / 394 "Yassuh, I was a slave. I was tin year1 old whin de war begin.* Uncle Stepney spoke the words between intermittent jerks of an uncontrollable voice. The nervousness which resulted from hard work and a long struggle for existence had not only given him palsy, but had left him with an upheaving dlaphrs^a. Thus he shook and shivered while stuttering so constantly as to be almost unintelligible. "My mammy belonged to the Johnstons and my pappy was owned by the Underwoods, * he continued; * dey lived next to each other on two big plantations in Lowndes County. Dey was good peoples— dem Underwoods, I remembers dat dey use to think as a little monkey. De massa usta laugh his head when dere was parties, de guestes would always say:« We wants to see Stepney dance.^ I usta cut many a wing fur 'em. "One day atter I finish' across de line to see my mammyj de woods, I met up wid two patl •Nigger, who you belong to?' "'Massa Jim Johns'on,• I answers. R'Whut you a doin1 out here, den?' dey say, all de time a slippin' a little closer so's to grab me. MI don't take time to gib 'em no mo' answers kaze I knowd dat dis meant a beatin'. I starts my legs a-flyin» an* I runs through de fores' lak a scar't rabbit wid dem pattyrollers right behin' me. Hy bare feets flew over dem stones an' I Jus' hit de high spots in chores, I slip' off When I was a-com rollers. Alabama - 2 - 395 de groun1. I knowed dem two mens didn't have no chance to kotch me, but dis sho meant a whuppin* when I got home. "But I didn't go home dat night, I stay out in de woods and bull' me a little fiah. I laid down under a sycaao1 tree a-tryin* ter make up my mln' ter go an' take dat beatin*. I heered de panthers a screamin* a way off in de fores' an' de wildcats a howlin' an' how I wished I coulda been wid my mammy, Eve'y now and den, I could see eyes a shinin' in de darkness an' rustlin,s in de bushes. Warn't no use of me a-cryin' kaze I was a long way fum home an' dere warn't no one to could hear me. Eve'y thing seem to be agin* me. Par off across de ridge I heered a screech owl a-callin*, an* I knowd dat meant death. I was glad I had my overalls on so's I could turn my pockets inside out'ards to stop him. Atter I done dis, he sho-nuf stopped. Den my lef' ear it commence to ichin', and I knowd dat someone was a-sayin* somethin' mean about me. Probably dat oberseer dat was a-goin' to whup me when I got home# Soon I fell slap to sleep on a bed of moss* De nex1 day I was awful hongry, an1 long fbout de time de sun was a- comin1 ober de ridge, I heerd some mens a-comin1 through* de bresiu It was de massa, de oberseer an' some mo' mens. I'rtgns toward de massa and I calls as loud as I couldj "Massa Jim, here I is." MHe come up wid an awful frown on his face and de oberseer, he had a big whup in his han' • "'You little bur-head Nigger debil', de massa say, 'I teach you ter run away fum yo» place. Come on home; I'se gwine give you a good breakfast an' fix you up in some decent clothes. I'se got visitors a-comin» an* heah you is out in de woods when I needs you to dance.' Den de massa, he smile lak I ain't done no thin' oqp. Alabama - 3 - ° wrong. 'I guess you wants yo mammy, you little lonesome pickaninny. Well, I s«pose I hadda go ober and buy her. You little debil you—. now git on home.»tt R,L.D. 5-7-37 (ieek ending Sept0j 1937- * Mary A. Poole, k'kU 1. 3-200 \ Identification N0.OI49-4366 S-260 • :. - \ \ Federal Writers* Project,Dist.2. ,-> :', ' W£A Project 3609, Mobile Ala. * IT TOOK $50.00 to put UNCLE CHARLIE ON DE FL00E"t (Written by Mary A. Poole*) iJi old colored man, named Charlie Van Dyke, living at 713 3. Lawrence street, Mobile, Ala, claims to be 107 years old, but has no authentic record of his birth. He told the writer he was born in North Carolina, and Tifaen lie was ten years old, Mr. William Martee King, who owned his mother "isellie Drish", moved to Tuscaloosa, Ala., where the King family remained about a year,moving then from Tuscaloosa down into Dallas County, near SelEa, Ala. - Vihile Mr. and Mrs. King and their family remained in Tuscaloosa, Uxiarlies mother Nellie Drish met and married1 faie^fan Dykex, who belonged to the Van Dykes, who owned the neighboring plantation. Charlie assumed his step-father's name, but knew little of him, or of the Van Dykes to whom his step-father belonged, because, as Charlie [explained to the writer, After the Kings moved down in Dallas County, [(as Charlie always referred to his home in Alabama ) and brought his mother Nellie and her family with them, his stepfather could only visit them mce a year, and that privilege was given him on Christmas Day. He had to start back the next day, as he had to make the trip to and fro on horse )ack. Uncle Charlie said the Kings owned about a thousand acres in Dallas founty and had about a hundred head of slaves, but with all their riches [key lived in a plain plank house. He smiled and said "Now-a-days folks passing such a house, would [ay 'Colored folks live there>»" The slave quarters were the regular log wood cabin, said Uncle Charlie, |ith space between each row and a little polt of ground to separate each to in to itself; ,/eek ending Sept.3, 1937. Mary A. Poole, D-200 Identification N0.OI49-4366 D-260 Federal Writers' Project,Dist.2. WPA Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. "IT TOOK feO.OO TO PUT UNCLE GHAHLIE ON THE FLOOR "1 (Written by Mary A. Poole.) Cabin to itself. Uncle Charlie said his mother cooked for the white folks, and some- time she didn't get down to their cabin but on Sunday afternoon, that he being the oldest had to look after the younger children and that he was never required to do heavy work as he broke his leg when a boy, so the folks let him just work around the yard and look after his sisters and brothers and also the other slave children. Uncle Charlie said Mr. King traveled a lot, went to Prance once, that took most a year and the overseer had full charge and he was mean and liiade everybody stand around. He even made the slaves shuck corn on Jiind^ys, each had their allotted amount to shuck before they could stop. r/hen the writer asked about church on the plantation, Uncle Charlie rspiied; "Church was what they called it but all that preacher talked about was for us slaves to obey our masters and not to lie and steal. hothin- about Jesus, was ever said and the overseer stood there to see the preacher talked as he wanted him to talk". The only day that Uncle Charlie said they were given any real holiday was Christmas, everybody got his drink of whiskey on Chiistmas, i.ai not another drink until next Christmas, "it sure seemed a long time between drinks", added Charlie with a smile. Uncle Charlie said they did let you have a funeral when some one died, they :aade the coffin on the plantation and carried it by band to the grave- yard, singing as they went along. He tried to recall the hymns, but all he could chant in a sing-song way was, "Last word he said was about Jerusalem And he traveled along to the grave"! jeek ending Sept.3, 1937. 3-200 D-260 399 > Mary A. Poole, ' Identification No.0149-4366 Federal Writers* Project,Dist.2* WPA Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. " US. TOOK ^50.00 TO PUT UNCLE CHARLIE ON THE ILOOR"! Vfnen asked about war days, Uncle Charlie was first on the Confederate side, then on the Northern side, and he seemed somewhat bewildered about it all, cxe said he saw a stockade, as he called it, in Selma, Ala,, and he remembered food stuff being sent to the soldiers, and also recalled the Yankees coming, and a Captain coming up the road and telling them the soldiers were coming. Uncle Charlie said the colored folks thought the Captain had to go back North before they came back, but in a flash like Lightening there they were, hundreds of them, and they scared folks so bad some of them jumped in the river and tried to swim across and those that couldn't, they just drowned. ..hen the writer tried to check up on Uncle Charlie's ages, asking Lira how old he was tfhen the war started, lie replied; "I dont know but I was a man long afore it all started, lady, and I was thirty-three years old when I married 'bout a year after the surrender '.¦¦hen asked why he waited so long to get married, Uncle Charlie said; "Did'nt you know in slavery days they would'nt alow a man to marry unless he could split a hundred rails a day/" The writer smiled and said: "icow, Uncle Charlie ,and then he chuckled, and said; "'./ell, I guess the right one did'nt come 'long till I met her. " ..iien asked if he had a regular wedding feast, he replied. "Yes, lady, it took ^0.00 to put me on the floor." Charlie and Theresa had "five head of children", as Uncle Charlie pressed it, of which three are dead and two living, but he claims his children do not look after him, but his church folks, and friends give ;;eek ending Sept.3, 193 7» D-200 D-260 400 4 Mary A. Poole, Identification No.0149-4366 Federal Writers' Project,Dist.2. WPA Project 3609, Mobile, Ala. "IT TOOK .#50.00 TO PUT UNCLE CHARLIE ON DE FLOOR"i (Written by Mary A. Poole.) ilia the helping hand. He is a member of the St.Luke Missionary Baptist Church, of mobile . Uncle Charlie says he has his religion from the foregone prophets, that he dont understand "this day religion", that he came along when people were serving Daniel's God, and when people had to be born again, now tney serve a sanctified God and jump from one religion to another. uncle Charlie finished the interview by saying, "Lord teach me how to pray, ^jid teach me to love it woo." BIBLIOGRAPHY: Personal conversation with Charlie 7an Dyke, 713 S.Lawrence street, Mobile, Ala. William B. Strickland, 4QJ[ Alabama 10241 Carbon Hill ¦ j\. John Morgan Smith y I Hear De Whirrin' ,"/ ¦-'" '' " /;^ Of Quare Wings r, *. I walked through a small glade overshadowed by large oak trees, near Carbon Hill in Walker County, Alabama, A wierd lit- tle cabin confronted me; its porch and. steps loosely held to the main part of the structure by a few weak boards. Bilah Walker, an old Negro woman squatted on the steps with her chin resting in her black hands, in an attitude of deep reverie. As the old woman heard me approaching she raised her head in cordial greet- ing. "Come in, young marster, " she said. "How is you today?" "Fine, Aunt Lilah," I answered. 'How's the world treating you?« "Oh, I can't complain," she replied. The old woman continued. "It mought be safer to set inside, 'case dey says when de sun swing low lak dis dat de mlassahs whut make you sick 'gin to rise outten yon' swamp." Then she chuckled: "I bin here since •fo' de wah, an' I ain't ne'ber seen no miassahs rise outten dat swamp yit. Yassuh, dat sho is so, but from whut I seed rise outten it my 'pinion is dat dey done ief long 'fo« dis. But I seed quare Vr'ings whirrin' outten dat swamp jus' 'fo' days atter de surrender, an' I seed 'em near 'bout eve'y day since. I seed 'em an' I heered * em jus' a whirrin11 "Nawsuh, I sho can't 'splain de wings, but I is got my •«pinion now come dey is. When I tells you whut took place here durin' dem cark ole days, den maybe you'll hab yourn. Ole Mistis died 'fo de «sr, an' ole Massa, he too ole to go. He didn't do nothin' but i//- Alabama - 2 - set aroun' an' read de books an' papers. 'Peer lak to me he jus' plum forgit 'bout young Mistis after her mammy died, an» de little gal jus' growed up lak a wild flower in de woods, cep»n for a handsome young boy on de nex' plantation. Dey was nearly always together. «3y an' by de boy got ole enough to go to de wah. It was jus' a little fo' de close. Den young Mistis, she droop an' she droop. 'Reckley she 'gin to swoon, long jus' anywheres she would. One day she swoon an' nothin' I could do would bring her back to her senses. I jus' couldn>*t fetch her to. I call ole Massa an' he git a doctor. Dey putt me outten de room an' I ain't neber heared whut dat doctor said till yit, but ole Massa, he go stark wild. He holla an* carry on in his sleep all de night; an' de nex' day he druv' de young Mistis away. Dere was a cabin den in de swamp, an' she went dar to live. I snuk out dar an' tote her vittles to her fo' days an' days. She always grab me an1 say: •Don't you love me an' don't you believe in me, mammy?' "'Co'se I does, honey chile, 'ca'se I useta sing to you 'bout de good ole Ian' of promise.* Den I says to her: 'dese times is powerful triflin', an' maybe »fo» long I's gwine home an* de white folks will miss me 'ca'se dey can't raise chilluns. * Den she cry an' I cry. "'Bout dat time de word come of de surrender. Ole Massa seem to come to his wits den an' he kep' a close watch on me so's I can't leave de house to carry de food. On de fo'th day, I cotch a chance an' I snuck off. When I come close to de cabin I call, cut young Mistis neber answer. Den I went to de do', but I neber ' ) w;:^-Jordan, WWU)' Editor Sfcl lepartment. —°- (f Softly mumbling to himself and gravely shaking a hare, shiny head that had only a fringe o£ white, closely-kinked wooly hair about the ears, the old Uagro .shuffled out of the crowded courtroom into the corridor. Turning clear, quizzical eyes toward-a group of white men loitering near the doorway and addressing no one in particular, with a final emphatic shake of his head he saids "Kit do "beat all, de way dese young niggers is allus in trouble wid de law. How, whin Ah wuz a young buck de only law ;.:ongst us niggers wuz de word uv ole Kassa. Mebbe you all's -ieerc tell of him— Cun'l Hugh Walker? B3f de Cunrl wuzn't de richest man anywhar 'round Forsyth, ¦or'i7) „1 Alabama '* V' ... Alice ^Sv;l^i;©n, ^ John Morgan Smith* Q^ LUOINDIA WASHINGTON. :vyir . ~~" : \\\ " A Slave's/ Story. Little black Oindy skipped along the narrow path that led to the Spring House. In her hand she swung an empty cedar pail that she ras soon to fill with cool, fresh milk. She entered the small glade overhung with willow trees and spread with soft grass, and gazed at the sparkling water pf the spring as it caught the beams of sunlight corning through the trees an&, reflected them in myriads of little points. Shadows of the waving leaves danced over the ground and up the side of the stone Spring ^ouse. " How cool and nice it was here, she thought. G-entle breezes rustled the limbs of small saplings and quietly stirred the long grass along the upper part of the branch. A young rabbit hopped from a little clump of bushes and Cindy rrtched him as the small creature drank thirstily from the crystal rater. Occasionally, the bunny v/ould lift his head as if warned by f3— slight sound, but in a moment she saw him fold back his delicate ears end once more dip his small mouth into the babbling water. After quenching his thirst, the rabbit hopped a few feet away rnd nibbled on a wisp of tender grass. Cindy was as still as a statute as she watched the procedure. "Dat's de cutest little bunny 5 ever seed," she said to herself. "I wish I could ketch him." But Cindy ¦:nev; that she could not catch a rabbit, so she was content^ to stand in the shadow of a sycamore and gaze eagerly at the animal, nibbling ¦—e _rass. Suddenly, without warning, cindy's eyes protruded from their pockets with an expression of fear. Slipping noiselessly through the Teen undergrowth she saw a giant rattler gliding slowly toward the young rabbit. She wanted to cry out, but she was afraid; afraid of f [aDama ......;,.,,-....... ..^-.:,g.,_......,.,....,,,.,...,. ...... ., . ... .,„..,.,..,..,,..............:,......^^-^ 408 attracting the rattler s attention toward her. She was deathly afraid of snakes. Since babyhood, she had habored a growing fear of them. If Cindy had been still before this time, she now became a frozen image. It would not have been apparent that she was even breathing. So frigh- tened was she of the snake that her whole body broke out in a profuse, .perspiration. Her eyes were glued to the tremendous brown monster with- A out the slightest sound oozed deftly toward its victim. Cindy was hypnotized* The snake seenrto hold her in a strange spell. Slowly, in- exorably he moved entirely out of the undergrowth and was now weaving on t'je clear ground. He approached the rabbit within a distance of tbree feet and began to eai'cfully form himself in a deadly coil. Cindy saw every movement. She saw each diamond on its brown back; each scale of its crawling skin; each lash and point of its tongue; the whiteness of its lHMta,the large track that it "had made in the sand. She watched its eyes gleam?expressionless and ominous. She gazed at the deadly nout/i as it slowly began to open. She was aware of the first appea- rance of the two death-like fangs pointing downward. She saw the ten- ovt toned rattle stand erect. She saw it quiver; shake; sound. She spy: the rabbit turn with fear. She saw the strike; the sinking of the fan:vs into the soft, brown fur. She watched the rabbit give an ephe- meral struggle; witnessed the brief pitiful look in the bunny's eyes and at last saw the mouth sink into the small belly and draw the last brerti- of life away. The experience was more than the little girl could stand. Cindy -is now in a state of frenzy. She could not move, nor speak, nor turn er eyes. She could only stare.1 At what? The monstrous snake then girded himself for further onslaught. After bein,o; sure Me victim was dead, he loosed his grip and stretched A 5" full length upon the ground; drew the rabbit out until it too was Alabama - 3 - 409 stretched carefully out with its hind feet together and its head point- ing in the opposite direction. Then followed an experience that to •Cindy seemed entirely impossible. The snake took the hind feet of the rabbit in his mouth, until gradually they had disappeared. Then came v7:et seemed to Cindy an agonized struggle. The snake's mouth stretched almost to the breaking point as it began slowly to close over the rest of the rabbit's rear quarter. With fits and starts and jerks and stretches, the rattler reeled and squirmed; contorted and wreathed and sucbed until the rabbit had half gone. With the last great effort the serpent threw himself into another series of bodily contortions that eec:;ed to'Cindy positively agonizing to him, until at last the rabbit had entirely disappeared from the earth. For several minutes ,cindy apparently watched the tremendous hump in the snake move slowly back- ward. With gradually diminishing intermittent jerks, the snake finally ; ot the small animal to his digostive tract. The monster then crawled to a hot sandy section and went bugs was tied up in rags 'roun' dere necks for to make de babies jeethe easy. J-^When I was ma'ied, white folks, at de age of thir- teen, Alex Washington, my husband an me had a forty..dollar weddin1* %• ilstis baked me a cake, an' a white schoolmaster named Henry Hindron fpoke de ceremony. Me an' dat ole husband had twenty-two chilluns. "Yas ma'm. I sho does believe in ghosties. fe's got one good spirit an' one bad un. One goes to heaben an' de udder stays on earth. p-hosties sho does lak whiskey, caze dey'll follow you iff en you got any. [ffen you po' it on de groun1 beside you, dough, dey'll lose track of rou. Always give a gos1 de raght han' side of de road, white folks, an* fe v/on't bother you. "Yes my chile, I is gotTreligion. I seed Jesus a hanging f'um de |ross. He give his blood so dat us could live. I knows I is goin' to lep'oen." }Sa. CoDy. "737/ * f r> Alabama ¦ Preston &Lein ^s^ Opelika, Alabama. irlCi \S^ Luther Clark, r Editor. "SHE SEES A HA'NT." The Story of Eliza White, Ex-Slave. Eliza White lives by the Central of Georgia Railroad tracks in Cpelika. The passing of many years has not dulled her mind, and so she vas able to tell of many things which happened "befo* de wah.M "Yas, suh, I was a slave. 0ie Massa was name' Billy Jones, and Oie i-istis was name1 Angdline. Dey. lived in Harris County, Georgia, close to Columbus. My pappy and mammy was Peter and Frances Jones, and * had i a brother, Dennis, and a sister, Georganne. "Massa was a good man, and I did love Oie Mistis. Dey was mighty iod to us niggers; fed us out dey own garden. We had checked homespun foh eve'yclay, and purty calico and dyed osnabur^ ones foh Sunday. ¦~> *o church wid de white folks, settin1 in de foot of de carr-x. I 'members well de Sunday I fust seen a shout in'. It was two white ladibj. "I-assa and Mistis had four chillun. Two of dem, Dave and Quit, ras bad fighting kids. I seen Massa make dem strip to dey waist, and whip e-> den make dem go in and bathe. "Ilassa lived in a big, fine white house. He had two or three inundred slaves, and de quarters was in two long rows, runnin' up near- 'wut to de big house on de hill. Dey even raised deer on de place. [De houses in de quarters was two-room log houses wid a shed room to icoo:- in. i:y mammy was de cook at de big house, and granny was de weaver. P^y vre.s de bedmaker; he made most of de beds outen poplar. I had a [little chair in de corner where I sot and kept de flies offen Mistis wid .'.'reen twig brush. "Whenever Massa sont any de slaves offen de place he had to gib Alabama - 2 - 412 •en passes so de patterollers wouldn't ketch fem and whip 'era foh run- nin' away. De patterollers was a good thing foh de lazy ones. When daylight come we had to get up, else we'd be whipped. Massa didn't have his slaves whipped much; just when dey was lazy and wouldn't work. "Ev'ey now and den we would have some good frolics, mostly on Sattiday mights. Somebody would play de fiddle and we all danced to- de music. De folks sure had some big times at de cornshuckin's, too. De men would work two or three days, haulin' de corn and pilin1 it near de crib. Den dey would invite folks from other quarters to come and help v.'icl de shuckin'. While dey shucked dey would holler and sing: 'You jumped and j- jumped; -. Swear by G-od you out jumped me. Huh! Huh! Round de corn, Sally.' "Granny used to give us tea made outen sage roots, mullen, pine v- ?¦¦-jl horefhound. Dat sho' was bitter stuff. We had purty beads iiiacie v.'id corn. And I still 'members de Christmas * got my fust shoes. I just hugged dem tight and went to sleep holdin' 'em. Dey was button slioes. "When we hearn de Yankees was comin' we hid all de meat and rations and de silver in de big swamp, and turned de horses loose, and all us kids hid in de bedticks (mattresses), De Yankees stayed around tro or three days and would pull de hands out of dere beds by dey toes, "But I really seed a ha'nt one time. I knowed it was. De was one old man been havin' de toothache all de time; he used to keep he jav; tied up. I was gwine over to see him day time. Well, 'fore I got ciere I seen what look like him comins. When I got nearer he turned to a ?-an riding a mule and wearing a big hat. Den, 'fore he got to de house he was plum gone. Dat's how I knowed it was a ha^t." Reference: Eliza White, age around 80, Opelika, Alabama. •^sh. Copy, 5/27/37. L, H. Alabama . Jjevi D- Shelby, Jr.-, 41^j Tuscumbia, Alabama. r] JEFF DAVIS USED TO CAMOUFLAGE HIS H0R3B. J^ngojhlte lives at Burleson in Franklin County, Alabama, ana ^ though he doesn't know his age he remembers that he was/big boy when the War between the States began. His reminiscences of slavery days, when he was a field hand, are an incongruous combination of stories of severe cruelty and free Saturday afternoons, Sunday holidays and happy festivals of cornshucking and community cotton picking. He talks of punishments visited on recalcitrant slaves beyond human endurance and of tasks saddled on one person that >would take half a dozen to accomplish. Mingled with these perhaps fogged memories of the nongenarian are interesting sidelights of "drivers," paterollers,» Ku Kluxers and share-cropping in reconstruction days. "I was born in Chester, South Carolina, but X was mos'ly raised in Alabama," Mingo said. "When I was 'bout fo1 or five years old, I was Loaded in a wagon wid a lot mo' people in'hit. Whar 1 was boun{ I don't enow. Whatever become of my mammy an' pappy * don' know for a long time. n was tol' there was a lot of slave speculators in Chester to buy some slaves for some folks in Alabama. I 'members dat 1 was took up c>n a stan' an' a lot of people come 'roun' an* felt my arms an* legs an' shist, an' ast me a lot of questions. Befo' we slaves was took to de fradin' post Gl' Marsa Crawford tol' us to tell eve'ybody what ast us if ever been sick to tell 'em dat us*d never been sick in our life. Us lad to tell 'em all sorts of lies for our Marsa or else take a beatin'. "I was jes' a li'l thang; tooked away from my mammy an' pappy, Jes1 men J- needed 'em mos'. The only caren' that I had or ever knowed any- ;fting "bout was give to me by a frein' of my pappy. H1S4iame was John jhite. My pappy tol* hity to take care of me for him. John was a fiddler ' many a night I woke up to find myse'f 'sleep 'twix4 his legs whilst Alabama - 2 - 414| he was playin' for a dance for de white folks. My pappy an1 mammy was sold from each yuther too, de same time as I was sold. I use' to wonder if I had any brothers or sisters, as -*- had always wanted some. A few years later I foun' out I didn't have none. "I'll never forgit de trip from Chester to Burleson. I wouldn't 'member so well * don't guess, 'cepin' I had a big ol' sheep dog name Trailer. He followed right in back of de wagon dat I was in. Us had to cross a wide stream what I tuk to be a ribber. When we started 'crest* ol' Trailer never stop followin'. I was watchin' him clost so if he gived out I was goin' to try to git him. He didn't giv' out, he didn't even hab to swim. He jes' walked 'long an' lapped de water lack a dog will. "John took me an' kep1 me in de cabin wid him. De cabin didn1 hab no furniture in hit lack we has now 'days. De bed was a one-legged ^it was made in de corner of de room, wid de leg settin' out in de middle of de flo'. A plank was runned 'twix' de logs of de cabin an' nailed to de post on de front of de bed. Across de foot an' udder plank was runned into de logs an' nail' to de legs. Den some straw or cornshucks was piled on for a mattress. Us used anythang what we could git for kiwer. De able had two legs, de legs set out to de £ront whilst de back part was nail' to de wall. Us didn't hab no stove. Thar was a great big fireplace w"iar de cookin' was done. Us didn't hab to cook, though lessen us got hungry after supper been served at de house. "I warn't nothin' but a chile endurln' slavery, but I had to wuk ! i de same as any man. I went to de fiel' and hosed cotton, pulled fodder I i i anci Picked cotton wid de res' of de han's. I kep' up too, to keep from gittin' any lashes dat night when us got home. *n de winter I went to de woods wid de men folks to hope git wood or to git sap from de trees "0 make turpentine an' tar. Iff en us didn't do dat ww made charcoal to run de blacksmif shop wid. +• Alabama - 3 - "De white folks was hard on us. Dey would whup us 'borft de leas' li'l thang. Hit wouldn't a been so bad if fen us had a had comforts, but to live lack us did was 'nouf to make anybody soon as be dead. De white folks tol' us dat us born to work for 'em an' dat us was doln' fine at dat. "De nexe time dat 1 saw my mammy I was a great big boy. Dere was a 'oman on de place what ever*body called mammy, Selina White. One day mammy called me an* said, Mingo, your mammy is comin'. ' I said, 'I thought dat you was my mammy.1 She said 'No I ain't your mammy, yer mammy is 'way way from here. I couldn't believe dat I had anudder mammy | and I never thought 'bout hit any mo1. One day * was sett in' down at de j i barn when a wagon come up de lane. I stood 'roun* lack a chile will# When de wagon got to de house, my mammy got out an* broke and run to me an1 th'owed her arms 'roun1 my neck an' hug an' kiss me. I never even put ray arms 'roun' her or nothin' of de sort. I Jes* stood dar lookin' at her. She said, 'Son ain't you glad to see your mammy?1 I looked at her an' walked off. Mammy Selina call me an' tol' me dat 1 had hurt my mammy's feelin's, and dat dis 'oman was my mammy. I went off an' studied and -l begins to 'member thangs. I went to Selina an* ast her how long it been sence I seen my mammy. She tol' me dat I had been 'way from her sence I was Jes' a li'l chile. I went to my mammy an* tol' her dat I was sorry 1 done what I did an' dat 1 would lack £ch» her to fergit an' forgive me for de way I act when * fust saw her. After l had talked wid mv real mammy, she told me of how de family had been broke up an' dat she hadn't seed my pappy sence he was sold. My mammy never would of seen me no mo* if de Lawd hadn' a been in de plan. Tom White's daughter married one of Mr Crawford's sons. Dey lived in Virginia. Back den it w&s de custom for women to come home whenever dey husbands died or wult era. Mr. Crawford's son died an' dat th'owed her to nab to come home. Alabama - 4 - 41€jJi My mammy had been her maid, so when she got ready to come home she brung my mammy wid her. "Hit was hard back in dem days. Ever1 momin' fo' day break you nad to be up an' ready to git to de flel'. Hit was de same ever' day in de year 'cep1 on Sunday, an' den we was gittln1 up earlier dan the folks do now on Monday. De drivers was hard too. Dey could say what ever dey wanted to an' you couldn't saynothin' for yourse'f. Somehow or yuther us had a instinct dat we was goin* to be free. In de event when de day's wuk »as done de slaves would l&e foun' lock in dere cabins prayin' for de Lawd [to free dem lack he did de chillun of Is'ael. Iff en dey didn' lock up, de Mars a or de driver would of heard 'em an4 whupped 'em. De slaves had a way of puttin1 a wash pot in de do' of de cabin to keep de soun1 in de house. I 'members once ol' Ned White was caught prayin'. De drivers took him de nex' day an' carried him to de pegs, what was fo* stakes drove in de groun'. Ned was made to pull off ever'thang but his pants an* lay on his stomach 'tween de pegs whilst somebody stropped his legs an* arms to de pegs. Den dey whupped him 'twell de blood run from him lack he was n°g. Dey made all of de han's come an' see it, an' dey said us'd git ie same thang if us was cotched. Dey don*t 'low a man to whup a horse ack dey whupped us in dem days. "After ray mammy come whar I was x hoped her wid her work. Her tas8 as too nard for any one person. She had to serve as mai.d to Mr. White's aug'nter, cook for all of de han's, spin an' card four cuts of thread a ay an1 den wash. Dere was one hundred an* forty-four threads to de cut. f she didn't git all of dis done she got fifty lashes dat night. Many tt?fct me an' her would spin an' card so she could git her task de nex' *¦'• No matter whut she had to do de nex' day she would have to git dem Wl cuts of thread, even on wash day. *ash day was on Wednesday.^ My fcmmy would have to take de clo's 'bout three quarters of a mile tq&e Ill Alabama - 5 - 4171 branch whar de washin' was to be done. She didn't have no wash board lack dey have now 'days. She had a paddle what ehe beat de clo'e wid. Ever'body knowed when wash day was 'case dey could hear de paddle for 'bout three or four miles. BFow-pow-pow, n dats how it sound. %© had to iron de clo's de same day dat she washed an' den git dem four cuts of thread. Lots of times she failed to git 'em an1 got de fifty lashes. One day when Tom White was whuppin' her she said, 'Lay it on Ilar-sa White 'case I'm goin' to tell de Yankees when dey come.' When mammy got through spinnin1 de cloth she had to dye it. She used shu- make berries, indigo, bark from some trees, and dar was some kind of rock (probably iron ore) what she got red dye from. De clo's wouldn't fade neither. "De white folks didn't learn us to do nothin' but wuk. Dey said dat us warn't 'spose to know how to read an' write. Dar was one feller name E. C. White what learned to read an' write endurin* slavery. He had to carry de chillun's books to school fer 'em an' go back atter dem. Hia young marsa taught him to read an' write unbeknowance to his father an' de res' of de slaves. Us didn' have ncwhar to go 'cep' church an* we didn' git no pleasure outten it 'case we warn't 'lowed to talk from de time we lef* home 'twell us got back. If us went to church oe drivers went wid us. Us didn't have no church 'cep' de white folks church. "After ol' Ned got sech a terrible beatin' fer prayin1 for freedom :e slipped off an' went to de North to jine de Union Army. After he got lr- de army he wrote to Marsa Tom. In his letter he had dose words: M'I am layin' down, marsa, and gittin' up, marsa;T meaning dat |he went to bed when he felt like it an; got up when he pleased to. He told Tom White dat iffen he wanted him he was in the army an' dat he - co^ld come after him. After ol1 Ned had got to de Worth, de yuther han's Alabama - 6 - 418 begin to watch for a chance to slip off* ^any a one was cotched an' brung back. Dey knowed de penalty what dey would have to pay, an' dis cause some of 'em to git desp'rite. Druther dan to take a beatin' dey would choc :« to fight hit out 'twell dey was able to git away or die befo' dey would take de beatin'. "Lots of times when de patterollers would git after de slaves dey would have de worse fight an' sometimes de patterollers would git killed. After de war I saw Ned, an' he tol' me de night he lef' the patterollers runned him for fo' days. He say de way he did to keep dem frum ketchin1 him was he went by de woods. De patterollers come in de woods lookin' for him, so he Jes' got a tree on 'em an' den followed. Dey figured dat he was headin1 fer de free states, so dey headed dat way too, and Ned Jes' followed dem for as dey could go. Den he dumb a tree and hid whilst dey turned 'roun' an' come back. Ned went on wid out any trouble much. De patterollers use ter be bad. Dey would run de folks iffen dey was caught out after eight o'clock in de night, iffen dey didn' have no pass |from de marsa. "After de day's wuk was done there warn't anything for de slaves [o do but go to bed. Wednesday night they went to prayer meetin1. We ad to be in de bed by nine o'clock. Ever' night de drivers come 'roun' er make sho' dat we was in de bed. I heerd tell of folks goin' to bed n' den gittin1 up an' goin' to yuther plantation. On Sat'day de nan's Jukked 'twell noon. Dey had de res' of de time to wuk gey gardens. Ever1 ambly had a garden of dere own. On Sat'day nights the slaves could r°Iic for a while. Dey would have parties sometimes an' whiskey and orae-brew for de servants. On Sundays we didn't do anything but lay 'roun1 sleep, 'case we didn' lack to go to church. On Christmas we didn't ve to do no wuk; no more'n feed de stock an' do de li'l wuk 'roun' de use. When we got through wid dat we had de res' of de day to run 'roun' Alabama - 7 - J 4l the Republicans got in they made the white gemmun what took my job postmaster. Then the bank I had my money in went busted in another Republican time and I loses ^658.05. I votes for I.Ir. Roosevelt now." Abe ".vhitess stopped to take a chew of his- favorite tobacco and flitted that hte lived alone in his one-room cabin by preference, he doesn't want v/omen "botherin* 'round his place and ain't had no truckin' with 'em for years.n He cooks on the hearth just as his - 2 - ' 4M mammy did before him decades ago in the slave quarters of Colonel Rupert's plantation. Despite his years, he is well able to take care of himself. He carries his nine decades lightly, and his kindly face is topped by a wealth"of snow white hair. Though he lost money in the bank failure that made him a Democrat in politics, Abe owns 14 acres of land, part of which he farms. Ee has cleared a portion of it for a baseball diamond which is rented to Negro teams, who play there frequently. The fee is always collected before a ball is thrown. Several years ago he donated a part of the acreage to be used for a public road which opened up a portion of Douglasville, the suburb in which he lives, where a number of Negroes had developed a residential section. Eis people named him then and since "Mayor of Douglasville," without office or emolument, but Abe wears the title with a dignified content for his remaining years. "Alabama Mary A- *<»1* >*£*&? • 4#f ffoodrow Hand, Editor. ?| PAITTEROLLERS USED SHACKLES SAYS GALLIE. Callie Wiiiiama was only four years old at the time of the sur- render, but stories told to her by her mother are vividly remembered and the fact that she has had the same environment continously through- out the years imprinted these happenings permanently on her mind. She lives at 504 Eslava Street, Mobile. HMy mammy and pappy was brought to Alabama by specalators who sold 'em to Mr. Hiram McLemore at Newport Landing, on de Alabama ribber," Callie said. "Mammy's name was Vicey and she was born in Virginia, but ray pappy was born in Kentucky. His name was Harry. Mr. McLemore had about three hundred head of slaves/ some of 'em on one plantation of about two thousand acres an* de res' on another place of about five hundred acres. He sho' did have a pretty house. It was all white and ranblin-like «nd had big trees aroun1 it. Dere was a cool well and a '015 dairy right close by it and den de cabins was all in a row in de back, some of 'em made out of planks, but mos' of 'em was made wid logs. Dey was all named after whoever lived in 'em." Aunt Callie needed little urging to tell of the old days and she claims to vivdly remember her master's family. "His wife was named Axle Bethea and he had seven children," she said. "One of 'em I never will forget, Miss Julia, 'case she gimme de ¦rst calico dress I ever had and I was proud as a peacock wid it. ¦83 Julia was de oldest little girl and dey give me to her. "My mammy say dat dey waked up in de mornin' when dey heard de Jaweep. Dat was a piece of iron hangin' by a string and it made a loud Is9 when it was banged wid another piece of iron. Dey had to get up Alabama - 2 - at four o'clock and be at work by sunup. To do dis, dey mos' all de time cook breakfast de night befo'. "Pappy was a driver under de overseer, but mammy say dat she stay at de little nursery cabin and look after all de little babies. Dey had a cabin fixed up with homemade cradles and things where dey put all de babies. Der mammies would come in from de field about ten o'clock to nurse 'em g^a den later in de day, my mammy would feed de youngest on pot-licker and de older ones on greens and pot-licker. Dey had skimmed milk and mush, too, and all of 'era Stayed as fat as a butter balls, me among 'em. Mammy saw dat I always got my share. "De slaves got rations every Monday night. Dere would be three pounds of meat and a peck of meal. Dere was a big garden dat all of 'em worked and dey had all de vegetables dey needed and dere was always plenty of skimmed milk. Dey cooked de meals on open fireplaces in de < big iron 'spiders.' Dem was big pots hangin* over the fire from a hook, Dey do de cookin' at night and den warm it over the nex' day if dey wanted it dat way. "While mammy was tendin' de babies she had to spin cotton and she was supposed to spin two 'cuts4 a day. Four 'cuts' was a hard day's ^ork. What was a cut? You oughta' know dati Dey had a reel and when it nad spun three hundred yards it popped. Dat was a "cut." When it had been spun, den another woman took it to de loom to make cloth for de slaves. Dey always took Saturday afternoon to clean up de clothes and cabins, 'case dey always had to start work on Monday mornln' clean as a pin. If dey didn't, dey got whupped for bein' dirty. "Some of de niggers, after dey'd been beat, would try to run away and some of 'em got loose, but de patterollers caught a lot of 'em and den dey'd get it harder dan ever befo* and have shackles out on dere feet wid jes* enough slack for 'em to walk so dey could work. 42(1 in de mornin* in de mornin' wid a rainbow on his shoulder again bye and bye. em stop singin and ptayin' durin de war, He's comin' He's comin' He's comin' He's comin1 "Dey tried to make 'case all dey'd ask for was to be sot free, but de slaves would get in de cabins and turn a big wash pot upside down and sing into dat, and de noise couldn't get out. I don't remember nothin' about dis ceptin' what nam?iy say. "When de Surrender come, she say dat a whole regiment of soldiers rode up to de house yellin' to de niggers dat dey was free. Den de soldiers took de meat out of de smokehouse and got all de 'lasses and meal and give it all to de niggers. Dey robbed de bees and den dey eat Alabama - 3 - 4.0*11 "If dey wanted to go 'possum huntin' or fishin', dey could get passes from de overseer. Two things dey really loved to eat was 'possum and fish. Dey'd eat and eat 'till dey'd get sick and den dey'd have to boil up a dose of Boneset tea to work ¦era out. If dat didn't make 'em feel better, dey'd go to Marster. He always kept calomel, bluemas and quinine on hand. If dey got too bad off sick, den marster would call de doctor. De children wasn't bothered with nothin' much but worms and dey'd take Jerusalem oak. It was de seed of a weed dat cook and mix 'lasses to make it taste like candy. Boneset was a bush and dey'd boil de leaves to get boneset tea. BMos' of de time de slaves would be too tired to do anything but go to bed at night, but sometimes dey would set around and sing after sapper and dey would sing and pray on Sunday. One of de songs dat was used mos' was Yon Comes Old Marster Jesus. If I remembers rightly, it went somp'n' like dis: I really believe Christ is comin' again Alabama - 4 - 42^ dinner and go on to de nex' place, takin' de menfolks wid £em, all 'ceptln* de ones too old, my pappy among 'em. "After it was all over my pappy rented land on Mr. McLemore's place and he and mammy stayed dere till dey died. Dey was "burled in de same graveyard dat Mr. McLemore had set aside for his slaves. I married Frank Williams in Montgomery, Alabama, but our marriage was no thin' like mammy say her and pappy's was. She say day dey 'Jumped de broom stick.1 When any of de slaves wanted to get married dey would go to de big house and tell marster and he'd get his broomstick and say, 'Harry, does you want Vicey?' And Harry would say 'yea' Den Marster would say, 'Vicey, does you want Harry? *, and she say 'yes.' Den marster say, 'Jine hands and Jump de broomstick and you is married. De ceremony wasn't much but dey stuck lots closer den and you didn't hear about so many divorces and such as dat, "All my children is dead but two. I had five. One is livin' in Atlantic City, N. J., and I live here wid de other one. I 'spects I'll jes' go on livin' here 'till I die, serving Ole Marster as bes' I can. If all de peoples on dis here earth would do dat, we wouldn't be pestered wid all dese here troubles like we is nowadays. Washington Copy, 6/16/37. Alabama * Susie R. C^Brien > m * o .j John Morgan Smith v*> FOOTS GETS TIRED $^ FROM OHOPPIN' COTTOM Aunt Silvia Witherspoon sat dozing on the steps of her small cabin, her bare feet stretched out in the dry dust of the yard. A large horsefly settled upon her broad nose and after a moment Aunt Silvia's composure was disturbed to such an extent that she waved it off with her hand. On doing so her eyes opened and she saw me approaching the steps. She straightened. «Mawnin«, Mis- tls. Jus1 settin' heah coolin' off my foots. I$se plum wo» out f'um choppin' cotton* Tassmam,w she continued, after I had asked a few questions, HI remembers some things 'bout de. slavery days. 'Co'se I can't remember jus* •zactly how old I is, but I mus1 be mought nigh on to ninety, 'ca'se I was a raght sizable gal when de war ended. I was bawn on a plantation in Jackson, Mississippi, dat belonged to my Massa, Dr. Minto Witherspoon. My Pappy an1 Mammy was name Lum an' Phyllis Witherspoon. De white folks lived in a big, white house made outten logs. Honey, Massa an'-Mistis Witherspoon was qualityl Yassmam, dey was quality. Us slaves was treated lak we was somp'n round dat place. Massa didn't 'low no oberseer to tote no strop 'nine his niggers. Besides dat we was fed good an' had good clothes. He useta done had brogans sont out in boxfuls folks' f'um Mobile. My job was to do little things aroun' de white/house, but befo' dat I stayed in de quarters an1 nussed my mammy's chilluns, while she worked in de fiel's. She would tie de smalles' baby on my back so's I could play widout no inconvenience. I laked to stay at de big house, dough, an' fan de flies offen de white folks while dey et. Dat was de bes1 Job I eber had. Mistis gived me a dress Alabama - 2 - dat de white chilluns done out-growed an' on Sunday I was de dressed-upest nigger in de quarter. Massa 'longed to de Presbyterian chu' eh so all us niggers was Presbyterians too. We all went to our own chu'ch dat was on de place dar. "Massa kep' a pack of blood hounds but it warn't often dat he had to use 'em '03'se none of our niggers eber runned away. One day, dough, a nigger named Joe did run away. Believe me Mistis, dera blood hounds cotch dat nigger *fo' he got to de creek good. It makes me laugh till yit de way dat nigger jumped in de creek when he couldn't swim a lick jus1 'ca'se dem noun's was atter him. He sho made a splash, but dey managed to git him out 'ro he drowned. "I ma'ied about a year atter de war, an' Kistis, I didn't have no pretty dress to git ma'ied in. I ma'ied dat oie nigger in a dirty work dress an' my feets was bare jus' lak dey is now. I figured dat iffen he loved me, he loved me jus' as well in my bare feets as he would wid my shoes on. "Does I believe in ghosties? Sho I does. I don't suppose you was bawn wid a veil on yo» face laic I was, 'ca'se I can see dem ghosties as plain as dey was here raght now. I'll tell you 'bout one dat comes out de white folks chu'ch yard. On dark rainy nights, I sees him, tall wid long white robes drappin f'um him. He carries a big light so bright dat you can't see his face, but he looks jus' lak a man. It don't bother me none, 'ca'se I don't bother it. "I keeps a flour sifter an' a fork by my bed to keep de witches f'um ridin' me. How come I knows dey rides me?. Honey, I bees so Vred in de mawnin1 I kin scarcely git outten my bed, 430! Alabama - 3 - an' its all on account of dem witches ridin' me, so I putt de sifter dere to cotch »em. Sometimes I wears dis dime wid de hole in it aroun' my ankle to keep off de conjure, but since Monroe King tuk an' died us ain't had much conjerin' 'roun' here. You know dat ole nigger would putt a conjure on somebody for jus' a little sum of money. He sold conjure bags to keep de sickness away. He could conjure de grass an' de birds, an' anything he wanted to. De niggers 'roun' useta give him chickens an' things so's he wouldn't conjure Aem, but its a funny thing Mistis, I ain't never understood it, he got tuk off to jail for stealin' a mule, an* us niggers waited 'roun' many a day for him to conjure hisself out, but he never did. I guess he jus' didn't have quite enough eonjurin' material to git hisself th'ough dat stone wall. I ain't never understood it, dough.M Wash. Copy H.L.D. 6-25-37 431 * nop** i i '"^'Mringston/^aSLabaiflii'ir ^aac (*ttoto} PITER HAD NO KEYS 'CEPIN* HIS'N. iPhoto; "De Lawd wouldn' trusted Peter wid no keys to Heaven," in the opinion of G-eorge Young, of Livingston, Alabama, born into slavery ninety- one years ago. G-eorge knew the rigors of slavery under an absentee land- lord and brutal overseers, according to the story he tells. "I was born on what was knowed as de Chapman Place, five miles nor'r/es* of Livingston, on August 10th, 1846," G-eorge began his tale. ."-7 name was George Chapman an1 I had five brothers, Anderson, Harrison, William, Henry an* Sara, an1 three sisters, Phobe, Frances and Amelia. My A Mother's name was Mary Ann Chapman an' my father's name was Sam Young, but he b' longed to Mr. Chapman. Us all belonged to G-overnor Reuben Chap- man of Alabama. "The overseer's name was Mr. John Smith,an' anudder's name was -r. Lawler. He was dere de year I was born, an1 dey called hit "Lawler ¦-ear." Bofe of 'em was mean, but Lawler, I hear tell, was de raeanes1. )e- had over three hund'ed .slaves, caze dey had three plantations, one at v.!:?., one in Huntsville.dis yere one. I can't say Harsa Chapman wasn't ::". to us, caze he was all de time. in Huntsville an' jes' come now an' • d '-< c i an1 bring his family to see 'bouten' things. But de overseers was bo' :;;ean. "I seed slaves plenty times wid iron ban's 'roun' dey ankles an' f '"le in de ban* an' a iron rod fasten to hit what went up de outside of t-e;- le; to de wals1 an1 fasten to another iron ban' 'roun1 de waist. Dis ^e ras to keep fem from bendin' dey legs an' runnin1 away. Dey call ¦--t -uttin' de stiff knee on you, an' hit sho' made 'em stiff I Sometimes de 'em oick, too, caze dey had dem iron ban's so tight 'roun* de l-":'-es, dat when dey tuck 'em off live things was under 'em, an1 dat*s Alabama -' ;¦•¦ ¦¦^':. himv.tp' In * &. ah*# %,. an,*..,earry,-:hff|jtg*£, '^t hg4 - vf/;; ?*§>y.v didn't die. He was *eused of gwine over to de neighbor's plantation lat night. Wine o'clock was de las' hour us had to be closed in. #ead, »» eo.. out an- noUer, V, ye9. C, ye8, ET.ybody in an' do'. l0<*- ed. An* iff en you^ ;wan*f, >$roti got whupped. "Wan't nobody 'lowed to co't. Us jes4 taken up together an' go ahead, an1 dat thing wan't fixed 'twel atter S'render. "De Patterolles come frura diffe'nt places, an' d# Tank'sleys, de Potts, de Gock'eils an' de ©reg'Tys was neighbors". I may of went to dey house an' dey claim to pertec' me playin' wid dey little nigger chillun, but iffen de Batterollers ketch me, dey claim dey wan't 'spon- sible. One day, dey fuck out atter me an' I come right here in Livings- ton, but I was gwiner run away anyhow, 'caze I had seed ole %cle Thorn- ton dat mornin*. See, I was de ca'f nusser an' soon as I lef'de house I met him, an' here come de overseer, Mr. Smith. He sent atter me an' he said. 'I seed six niggers in de woods whut run away, an* asked did I see ole man Thornton. I said, No. I ain't seed nobody. He said, *Nev' mine, I make you tell a better tale'n dat in de mawnin'.' So when 1 v/ent wid de slop to dem ca'ves * got to thinkin' 'bout dat whupping so I come right here. "Mr. Norville had a wood-shop right 'crost de road dere by de white folks Baptis* church an* I'hid in de back of hit dat night. But dey foun1 me an' tuck me back. Den dey stop me from ca'f nussin' an' put me in de fiel' under de head man. I was glad of dat, 'caze I 'anted to be wid de other nan's, but when I foun' out how 'twas, I ¦ 'anted to be back. Hit was a harder tas' den when * was nussinr ca'ves an' heepin1 kern from brea&in' in de fiel' an' eatin' up de crop. WI wuz a good han' an* obeyed de owners an* de head man air* never had no Ijpise 'bout work. I went one time to Bonnet's Station, ten niles b'low heW, wid Jes' seven jab1 niggers from de Chapman pla#e> an* . ¦ '•..-. i ?W^"^^?|^^ us driv' over a ttobusan* headof cattle to Atlanta, Ga., sji' nefer hM no trouble. I was easy pleased,, ^ve me a piece of candy an' I'd lick hit 'twel my mouf was so1. I r§ekon hit was all right, hut I dunno. All de nasfe«fte couldn't rule^ Jes' lack hit is now, de stronges* people mus' rule. "Atter S'render, dey tuck a darky for de prohit jedge, but dat nigeer didn't know nothin* an' he couldn't rule. So den dey tuck a white man name Sanders, an' he done all right. We was under hard task-masters an' I'm glad dey sot me free, 'caze I was under burden an1 boun'. But inierrancy can't rule, hit sho* can't. We is darkies, an' white folks ou^-ht to be favorable. Some speaks better words'n others, but ev'ybody ain't got de same heart, an' dat's all i knows. "No'm, I dunno nuthin' 'bout no spirits, either, but Christ >eered to de postles, didn't He, atter he been dead? An' I'se seed foll-.s clone been dead jes' as na'chel in de day as you is now. One day "e an' ny wife was pickin' cotton right out yonder on Mr. White's place, an1 I looked up an' seed a man all dressed in black, wid a white shirt [bosons, his hat a-sittin' on one side, ridin' a black hoss . "I stoop down to pick some cotton, den look up an' he was gone. I1 said to my wife^ I call her G-lover but she go by two names ^.1 said, Glover, wonder whar dat man went what was ridin' long yonder on dat Pacin' hoss?' flShe say, 'What pacin' hoss an' what man?1 fi said, 'He 5 cinin' down dat bank by dat ditch. Dey ain't no bridge dere, an1 10 hoss could jump hit*. ^Glover said, 'Well, I'm gwine in de house 'caze 0.0 n' feel lack pickin' cotton today. {[But x ain't skeered of 'em. I ts out de path plenty times to let 'em by, an' iffen you kin see'em, '&1-- 'roun' 'em. If fen you can't see 'em, den dey'11 walk 'roun' you. "en dey gets too plentiful, I jes' hangs a hoss shoe upside down over e m', an' don1 have no mo1 trouble. But ev'ybody oughter have dat 'Alabama kinder min', to ..honor <*od. He *peered to de ,ctples atter He died, an* :,e said also, 'Peter, 1*11 give you de-keys to de kingdom'. But Peter didn't have nobody's keys 'cep'in' his'n. Don't you know iffen he'd of give Peter all dem keys, dey's ajfheap of folks Peter fc*ineter keep out of dere jes« for spite? God ain't gwineter do notW dat foolish. Peter didn't have nobody's key 'cepin' Peter's.' Wash. Copy, 6/3/37. l-« ...