My Massa's name was Jonas Bost. He had a hotel in Newton, North
Carolina. My mother and grandmother both belonged to the Bost family. My
ole Massa had two large plantations one about three miles from Newton
and another four miles away. It took a lot of niggers to keep the work a
goin' on them both. The women folks had to work in the hotel and in the
big house in town. Ole Missus she was a good woman. She never allowed
the Massa to buy or sell any slaves. There never was an overseer on the
whole plantation. The oldest colored man always looked after the
niggers. We niggers lived better than the niggers on the other
plantations.
Lord child, I remember when I was a little boy, 'bout ten years, the
speculators come through Newton with droves of slaves. They always stay
at our place. The poor critters nearly froze to death. They always come
'long on the last of December so that the niggers would be ready for
sale on the first day of January. Many the time I see four or five of
them chained together. They never had enough clothes on to keep a cat
warm. The women never wore anything but a thin dress and a petticoat and
one underwear. I've seen the ice balls hangin' on to the bottom of their
dresses as they ran along, jes like sheep in a pasture 'fore they are
sheared. They never wore any shoes. Jes run along on the ground, all
spewed up with ice. The speculators always rode on horses and drove the
pore niggers. When they get cold, they make 'em run 'til they are warm
again.
The speculators stayed in the hotel and put the niggers in the quarters
jes like droves of hogs. All through the night I could hear them
mournin' and prayin'. I didn't know the Lord would let people live who
were so cruel. The gates were always locked and they was a guard on the
outside to shoot anyone who tried to run away. Lord miss, them slaves
look jes like droves of turkeys runnin' along in front of them horses.
I remember when they put 'em on the block to sell 'em. The ones 'tween
18 and 30 always bring the most money. The auctioneer he stand off at a
distance and cry 'em off as they stand on the block. I can hear his
voice as long as I live.
If the one they going to sell was a young Negro man this is what he say:
"Now gentlemen and fellow-citizens here is a big black buck Negro. He's
stout as a mule. Good for any kin' o' work an' he never gives any
trouble. How much am I offered for him?" And then the sale would
commence, and the nigger would be sold to the highest bidder.
If they put up a young nigger woman the auctioneer cry out: "Here's a
young nigger wench, how much am I offered for her?" The pore thing
stand on the block a shiverin' an' a shakin' nearly froze to death. When
they sold many of the pore mothers beg the speculators to sell 'em with
their husbands, but the speculator only take what he want. So meybe the
pore thing never see her husban' agin.
Ole' Massa always see that we get plenty to eat. O' course it was no
fancy rashions. Jes corn bread, milk, fat meat, and 'lasses but the Lord
knows that was lots more than other pore niggers got. Some of them had
such bad masters.
Us pore niggers never 'lowed to learn anything. All the readin' they
ever hear was when they was carried through the big Bible. The Massa say
that keep the slaves in they places. They was one nigger boy in Newton
who was terrible smart. He learn to read an' write. He take other
colored children out in the fields and teach 'em about the Bible, but
they forgit it 'fore the nex' Sunday.
Then the paddyrollers they keep close watch on the pore niggers so they
have no chance to do anything or go anywhere. They jes' like policemen,
only worser. 'Cause they never let the niggers go anywhere without a
pass from his master. If you wasn't in your proper place when the
paddyrollers come they lash you til' you was black and blue. The women
got 15 lashes and the men 30. That is for jes bein' out without a pass.
If the nigger done anything worse he was taken to the jail and put in
the whippin' post. They was two holes cut for the arms stretch up in
the air and a block to put your feet in, then they whip you with cowhide
whip. An' the clothes shore never get any of them licks.
I remember how they kill one nigger whippin' him with the bull whip.
Many the pore nigger nearly killed with the bull whip. But this one die.
He was a stubborn Negro and didn't do as much work as his Massa thought
he ought to. He been lashed lot before. So they take him to the whippin'
post, and then they strip his clothes off and then the man stan' off and
cut him with the whip. His back was cut all to pieces. The cuts about
half inch apart. Then after they whip him they tie him down and put salt
on him. Then after he lie in the sun awhile they whip him agin. But when
they finish with him he was dead.
Plenty of the colored women have children by the white men. She know
better than to not do what he say. Didn't have much of that until the
men from South Carolina come up here and settle and bring slaves. Then
they take them very same children what have they own blood and make
slaves out of them. If the Missus find out she raise revolution. But she
hardly find out. The white men not going to tell and the nigger women
were always afraid to. So they jes go on hopin' that thing won't be that
way always.
I remember how the driver, he was the man who did most of the whippin',
use to whip some of the niggers. He would tie their hands together and
then put their hands down over their knees, then take a stick and stick
it 'tween they hands and knees. Then when he take hold of them and beat
'em first on one side then on the other.
Us niggers never have chance to go to Sunday School and church. The
white folks feared for niggers to get any religion and education, but I
reckon somethin' inside jes told us about God and that there was a
better place hereafter. We would sneak off and have prayer meetin'.
Sometimes the paddyrollers catch us and beat us good but that didn't
keep us from tryin'. I remember one old song we use to sing when we meet
down in the woods back of the barn. My mother she sing an' pray to the
Lord to deliver us out o' slavery. She always say she thankful she was
never sold from her children, and that our Massa not so mean as some of
the others. But the old song it went something like this:
"Oh, mother lets go down, lets go down, lets go down, lets go down.
Oh, mother lets go down, down in the valley to pray.
As I went down in the valley to pray
Studyin' about that good ole way
Who shall wear that starry crown.
Good Lord show me the way."
Then the other part was just like that except it said 'father' instead
of 'mother', and then 'sister' and then 'brother'.
Then they sing sometime:
"We camp a while in the wilderness, in the wilderness, in the
wilderness.
We camp a while in the wilderness, where the Lord makes me happy
And then I'm a goin' home."
I don't remember much about the war. There was no fightin' done in
Newton. Jes a skirmish or two. Most of the people get everything jes
ready to run when the Yankee sojers come through the town. This was
toward the las' of the war. Cose the niggers knew what all the fightin'
was about, but they didn't dare say anything. The man who owned the
slaves was too mad as it was, and if the niggers say anything they get
shot right then and thar. The sojers tell us after the war that we get
food, clothes, and wages from our Massas else we leave. But they was
very few that ever got anything. Our ole Massa say he not gwine pay us
anything, corse his money was no good, but he wouldn't pay us if it had
been.
Then the Ku Klux Klan come 'long. They were terrible dangerous. They
wear long gowns, touch the ground. They ride horses through the town at
night and if they find a Negro that tries to get nervy or have a little
bit for himself, they lash him nearly to death and gag him and leave him
to do the bes' he can. Some time they put sticks in the top of the tall
thing they wear and then put an extra head up there with scary eyes and
great big mouth, then they stick it clear up in the air to scare the
poor Negroes to death.
They had another thing they call the 'Donkey Devil' that was jes as bad.
They take the skin of a donkey and get inside of it and run after the
pore Negroes. Oh, Miss them was bad times, them was bad times. I know
folks think the books tell the truth, but they shore don't. Us pore
niggers had to take it all.
Then after the war was over we was afraid to move. Jes like tarpins or
turtles after 'mancipation. Jes stick our heads out to see how the land
lay. My mammy stay with Marse Jonah for 'bout a year after freedom then
ole Solomon Hall made her an offer. Ole man Hall was a good man if there
ever was one. He freed all of his slaves about two years 'fore
'mancipation and gave each of them so much money when he died, that is
he put that in his will. But when he die his sons and daughters never
give anything to the pore Negroes. My mother went to live on the place
belongin' to the nephew of Solomon Hall. All of her six children went
with her. Mother she cook for the white folks an' the children make
crop. When the first year was up us children got the first money we had
in our lives. My mother certainly was happy.
We live on this place for over four years. When I was 'bout twenty year
old I married a girl from West Virginia but she didn't live but jes
'bout a year. I stayed down there for a year or so and then I met
Mamie. We came here and both of us went to work, we work at the same
place. We bought this little piece of ground 'bout forty-two years ago.
We gave $125 for it. We had to buy the lumber to build the house a
little at a time but finally we got the house done. Its been a good home
for us and the children. We have two daughters and one adopted son. Both
of the girls are good cooks. One of them lives in New Jersey and cooks
in a big hotel. She and her husband come to see us about once a year.
The other one is in Philadelphia. They both have plenty. But the adopted
boy, he was part white. We took him when he was a small and did the best
we could by him. He never did like to 'sociate with colored people. I
remember one time when he was a small child I took him to town and the
conductor made me put him in the front of the street car cause he
thought I was just caring for him and that he was a white boy. Well, we
sent him to school until he finished. Then he joined the navy. I ain't
seem him in several years. The last letter I got from him he say he
ain't spoke to a colored girl since he has been there. This made me mad
so I took his insurance policy and cashed it. I didn't want nothin' to
do with him, if he deny his own color.
Very few of the Negroes ever get anywhere; they never have no education.
I knew one Negro who got to be a policeman in Salisbury once and he was
a good one too. When my next birthday comes in December I will be
eighty-eight years old. That is if the Lord lets me live and I shore
hope He does.
N. C. District: No. 3 [320279]
Worker: Travis Jordan
Subject: Mary Wallace Bowe
Ex-slave 81 Years
Durham County Home
Durham, N. C.
[HW: Lovely story about Abraham Lincoln]
[TR: This interview was heavily corrected by hand. i.e. wuz to was, er
to a, etc. Changes made without comment.]
MARY WALLACE BOWE
Ex-slave 81 years
My name is Mary Wallace Bowe. I was nine years ole at de surrender.
My mammy an' pappy, Susan an' Lillman Graves, first belonged to Marse
Fountain an' Mis' Fanny Tu'berville, but Marse Fountain sold me, my
mammy an' my brother George to Mis' Fanny's sister, Mis' Virginia
Graves. Mis' Virginia's husban' was Marse Doctor Graves. Dey lived on de
ole Elijah Graves estate not far from Marse Fountain's plantation here
in Durham county, an' Mis' Virginia an' Mis' Fanny seed each other near
'bout every day.
I was little when Marse Fountain an' Marse Doctor went to de war but I
remembers it. I remembers it kaze Mis' Fanny stood on de po'ch smilin'
an' wavin' at Marse Fountain 'til he went 'roun' de curve in de road,
den she fell to de floor like she was dead. I thought she was dead 'till
Mis' Virginia th'owed some water in her face an' she opened her eyes.
De nex day Mis' Virginia took me an' mammy an' we all went over an'
stayed wid Mis' Fanny kaze she was skeered, an' so dey'd be company for
each other. Mammy waited on Mis' Virginia an' he'ped Surella
Tu'berville, Mis' Fanny's house girl, sweep an' make up de beds an'
things. I was little but mammy made me work. I shook de rugs, brung in
de kindlin' an run 'roun' waitin' on Mis' Virginia an' Mis' Fanny, doin'
things like totin' dey basket of keys, bringin' dey shawls and such as
dat. Dey was all de time talkin' about de folks fightin' an' what dey
would do if de Yankees come.
Every time dey talk Mis' Fanny set an' twist her han's an' say: "What is
we gwine do, Sister, what is we gwine do?"
Mis' Virginia try to pacify Mis' Fanny. She say, 'Don' yo' worry none,
Honey, I'll fix dem Yankees when dey come.' Den she set her mouf. When
she done dat I run an' hid behin' Mis' Fanny's chair kaze I done seed
Mis' Virginia set her mouf befo' an' I knowed she meant biznes'.
I didn' have sense enough to be skeered den kaze I hadn' never seed no
Yankee sojers, but 'twaren't long befo' I wuz skeered. De Yankees come
one mornin', an' dey ripped, Oh, Lawd, how dey did rip. When dey rode up
to de gate an' come stompin' to de house, Mis' Fanny 'gun to cry. 'Tell
dem somethin', Sister, tell dem somethin'; she tole Mis' Virginia.
Mis' Virginia she ain' done no cryin'. When she seed dem Yankees comin'
'cross de hill, she run 'roun' an' got all de jewelry. She took off de
rings an' pins she an' Mis' Fanny had on an' she got all de things out
of de jewelry box an' give dem to pappy. "Hide dem, Lillmam" she tole
pappy, 'hide dem some place whare dem thieves won't find dem'.
Pappy had on high top boots. He didn' do nothin but stuff all dat
jewelry right down in dem boots, den he strutted all' roun' dem Yankees
laughin' to heself. Dey cussed when dey couldn' fin' no jewelry a tall.
Dey didn' fin' no silver neither kaze us niggers done he'p Mis' Fanny
an' Mis' Virginia hide dat. We done toted it all down to de cottin gin
house an' hid it in de loose cotton piled on de floor. When dey couldn'
fin' nothin' a big sojer went up to Mis' Virginia who wuz standin' in de
hall. He look at her an' say: 'Yo's skeered of me, ain' yo'?'
Mis' Virginia ain' batted no eye yet. She tole him, "If I was gwine to
be skeered, I'd be skeered of somethin'. I sho ain' of no ugly, braggin'
Yankee."
De man tu'ned red an he say: "If you don' tell me where you done hide
dat silver I'se gwine to make' you skeered."
Mis' Virginia's chin went up higher. She set her mouf an' look at dat
sojer twell he drap his eyes. Den she tole him dat some folks done come
an' got de silver, dat dey done toted it off. She didn' tell him dat it
wuz us niggers dat done toted it down to de cotton gin house.
In dem days dey wuz peddlers gwine 'roun' de country sellin'
things. Dey toted big packs on dey backs filled wid everythin'
from needles an' thimbles to bed spreads an' fryin' pans. One day
a peddler stopped at Mis' Fanny's house. He was de uglies' man
I ever seed. He was tall an' bony wid black whiskers an' black
bushy hair an' curious eyes dat set way back in his head. Dey
was dark an' look like a dog's eyes after you done hit him. He
set down on de po'ch an' opened his pack, an' it was so hot an'
he looked so tired, dat Mis' Fanny give him er cool drink of milk
dat done been settin' in de spring house. All de time Mis' Fanny
was lookin' at de things in de pack an' buyin', de man kept up a
runnin' talk. He ask her how many niggers dey had; how many men
dey had fightin' on de 'Federate side, an' what wuz was she gwine do
if de niggers wuz was set free. Den he ask her if she knowed Mistah
Abraham Lincoln.
'Bout dat time Mis' Virginia come to de door an' heard what he said. She
blaze up like a lightwood fire an' told dat peddler dat dey didn't want
to know nothin' 'bout Mistah Lincoln; dat dey knowed too much already,
an' dat his name wuzn [HW correction: wasn't] 'lowed called in dat [HW
correction: her] house. Den she say he wuzn [HW correction: wasn't]
nothin' but a black debil messin' in other folks biznes' [HW correction:
business], an' dat she'd shoot him on sight if she had half a chance.
De man laughed. "Maybe he [HW correction: Mr. Lincoln] ain't so bad,' he
told her. Den he packed his pack an' went off down de road, an' Mis'
Virginia watched him 'till he went out of sight 'roun' de bend."
Two or three weeks later Mis' Fanny got a letter. De letter was from dat
peddler. He tole her dat he was Abraham Lincoln hese'f; dat he wuz
peddlin' over de country as a spy, an' he thanked her for de res' on her
shady po'ch an' de cool glass of milk she give him.
When dat letter come Mis' Virginia got so hoppin' mad dat she took all
de stuff Mis' Fanny done bought from Mistah Lincoln an' made us niggers
burn it on de ash pile. Den she made pappy rake up de ashes an' th'ow
dem in de creek.
N. C. District: No. 2 [320148]
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
No. Words: 377
Subject: Ex-Slave Recollections
Person Interviewed: Lucy Brown
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt
[TR: Date Stamp "JUN 7 1937"]