I was born in New Bern on July 9, 1850. My father and mother belonged to
Mr. L. B. Huggins. My father was a carpenter and ship builder an' the
first things I remember was down on Myrtle Grove Sound, where Mr.
Huggins had a place. I was a sort of bad boy an' liked to roam 'round.
When I was about twelve years old I ran away. It was in 1863 when the
war was goin' on.
Nobody was bein' mean to me. No, I was'nt bein' whipped. Don't you know
all that story 'bout slaves bein' whipped is all _Bunk_, (with scornful
emphasis). What pusson with any sense is goin' to take his horse or his
cow an' beat it up. It's prope'ty. We was prope'ty. Val'able prope'ty.
No, indeed, Mr. Luke give the bes' of attention to his colored people,
an' Mis' Huggins was like a mother to my mother. Twa'nt anythin' wrong
about home that made me run away. I'd heard so much talk 'bout freedom I
reckon I jus' wanted to try it, an' I thought I had to get away from
home to have it.
Well, I coaxed two other boys to go with me, an' a grown man he got the
boat an' we slipped off to the beach an' put out to sea. Yes'm, we sho'
was after adventure. But, we did'n get very far out from sho', an' I saw
the lan' get dimmer an' dimmer, when I got skeered, an' then I got
seasick, an' we was havin' more kinds of adventure than we wanted, an'
then we saw some ships. There was two of 'em, an' they took us on board.
They was the North Star an' the Eastern Star of the Aspinwal Line, a
mail an' freighter runnin' between Aspinwal near the Isthmus of Panama
and New York. We used to put in off Charleston.
Then, in 1864 I joined the Union Navy. Went on board our convoy, the
Nereus. We convoyed to keep the Alabama, a Confederate privateer, away.
The Commander of the Nereus asked me how's I like to be his cabin boy.
So I was 2nd class cabin boy an' waited on the Captain. He was Five
Stripe Commander J. C. Howell. He was Commander of the whole fleet off
Fort Fisher. When the Captain wanted somethin' good to eat he used to
send me ashore for provisions. He liked me. He was an old man. He didn't
take much stock in fun, but he was a real man. I was young an' was'nt
serious. I jus' wanted a good time. I don't know much about the war, but
I do know two men of our boat was killed on shore while we was at Fort
Fisher.
After the battle of Fort Fisher, we was on our way to Aspinwal. Layin'
off one day at Navassa Island, the Mast Head reported a strange sail.
'Where away?' 'Just ahead'. 'She seems to be a three mast steamer!'
'Which way headed?' We decided it was the Alabama going to St. Nicholas
Mole, West Indies.
Our Captain called the officers together an' held a meetin'. Says he:
'We'll go under one bell (slow). Lieutenant will go ashore an' get some
information.' When we got there she had a coal schooner alongside taking
on coal. Our Captain prepared to capture her when she came out. But she
did'n come out 'til night. She dodged. Good thing too. She'd a knocked
hells pete out o' us. She was close to the water and could have fought
us so much better than we could her. We didn't want to fight 'cause we
knowed enough to jest natu'ally be skeered. She was a one decker man o'
war. We was a two decker with six guns on berth deck, an' five guns on
spar deck. I never saw her after that, but I heard she was contacted by
the Kearsage which sunk her off some island.
I stayed in the navy eighteen months. Was discharged at the Brooklyn
Navy Yard. Admiral Porter was Admiral of the U. S. Navy at that time.
I stayed in New York five or six years, then I cane home to my mother. I
was in the crude drug business in Wilmington for twenty years.
Yes'm I went to church and Sunday school when I was a child, when they
could ketch me. Whilst I was in New York I went to church regular.
I married after awhile. My wife died about ten years ago. We had one
son. I b'lieve he's in Baltimore, but I ain't heard from him in a long
time. He don't keer nothin' about me. Of co'se I'm comfortable. I gits
my pension, $75 a month. I give $10 of it to my nephew who's a cripple.
N. C. District: No. 2 [320124]
Worker: T. Pat Matthews
No. Words: 645
Subject: CHARLIE H. HUNTER
Story Teller: C. H. Hunter
Editor: Geo. L. Andrews
[TR: Date Stamp "AUG 4 1937"]
CHARLIE H. HUNTER, 80 years old,
2213 Barker Street
West Raleigh
My full name is Charlie H. Hunter. I wus borned an' reared in Wake
County, N. C., born May, 1857. My mother wus Rosa Hunter an' my father
wus named Jones. I never saw my father. We belonged to a family named
Jones first, an' then we wus sold to a slave owner seven miles Northwest
by the name Joe Hayes an' a terrible man he wus. He would get mad 'bout
most anything, take my mother, chain her down to a log and whup her
unmercifully while I, a little boy, could do nothing but stan' there an'
cry, an' see her whupped. We had fairly good food an' common clothing.
We had good sleeping places. My mother wus sold to a man named Smith. I
married first Annie Hayes who lived sixteen months.
No prayer meetings wus allowed on de plantations an' no books of any
kind. I can read an' write, learned in a school taught by Northern folks
after the surrender, Mr. an' Mrs. Graves who taught in Raleigh in the
rear of the African Methodist Episcopal church. The school house wus
owned by the church. We played no games in slavery times. I saw slaves
sold on the block once in Raleigh.
I wus to be sold but the surrender stopped it. When the Yankees come
they asked me where wus my marster. I told them I didn't know. Marster
told me not to tell where he wus. He had gone off into the woods to hide
his silver. In a few minutes the ground wus covered with Yankees. The
Yankees stole my pen knife. I thought a lot of it. Knives wus scarce and
hard to get. I cried about they taking it. They got my marster's
carriage horses, two fine gray horses. His wife had lost a brother, who
had been in the army but died at home. He wus buried in the yard. The
Yankees thought the grave wus a place where valuables wus buried and
they had to get a guard to keep them from diggin' him up. They would
shoot hogs, cut the hams and shoulders off, stick them on their
bayonetts, throw them over the'r shoulders an' go on.
We called our houses shanties in slavery time. I never saw any
patterollers. I don't remember how many slaves on the plantation wus
taken to Richmond an' sold. My mother looked after us when we wus sick.
I had four brothers an' no sisters. They are all dead. I did house work
an' errands in slavery time. I have seen one gang of Ku Klux. They wus
under arrest at Raleigh in Governor Holden's time. I don't remember the
overseer.
We moved to Raleigh at the surrender. Marster give us a old mule when we
left him, an' I rode him into Raleigh. We rented a house on Wilmington
Street, an' lived on hard tack the Yankees give us 'til we could git
work.
Mother went to cooking for the white folks, but I worked for Mr. Jeff
Fisher. I held a job thirty-five years driving a laundry truck for L. R.
Wyatt. The laundry wus on the corner of Jones an' Salisbury Street.
I married Cenoro Freeman. We lived together fifty-six years. She wus a
good devoted wife. We wus married Dec. 9, 1878. She died in May
1934. [HW: bracket] Booker T. Washington wus a good man. I have seen him.
Abraham Lincoln wus one of my best friends. He set me free. The Lawd is
my best friend. I don't know much 'bout Jefferson Davis. Jim Young an'
myself wus pals.
My object in joining the church wus to help myself an' others to live a
decent life, a life for good to humanity an' for God.
N. C. District: No. 2 [320154]
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
No. Words: 670
Subject: EX-SLAVE STORY
Story Teller: Elbert Hunter
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt
[TR: Date Stamp "JUN 1 1937"]