*Interview with "Aunt" Rhody Holsell,*
*Fredericktown, Missouri.*
_Slaves Happy To Be Free_
"Aunt" Rhody Holsell, 89 years old, of Fredericktown, is one of the
interesting ex-slaves in Missouri. According to her story she was 17
years old when the Civil War ended. Her mother and father were slaves
and both of them had died before the beginning of the conflict. She
believes that she is part Indian as her great grandmother is believed to
have been an Indian squaw.
The following is her own version of events which played a part in her
life during her slave days and since that time:
"When dey turned me loose I was naked, barefoot, and didn't have nothin'
to start out on. They turned us loose without a thing and we had to
kinda pick ourselves up. We would go out of a Sunday and dig ginseng and
let it dry for a week and sell it to de store. We would make about a
dollar every Sunday dat way, and den we'd get our goods at de store. The
master and all de boys was killed in de war and de mistress married some
'hostle jostle' who helped to kill the boss. I was jus' not goin' to
stand dat so dis was when I left home.
"Abraham Lincoln done put a piece in de paper saying dat all de slaves
was free and if dey whipped any of de slaves after dey was set free dey
would prosecute them. Me and another little old woman done some shoutin'
and hollerin' when we heard 'bout de freedom. We tore up some corn down
in de field. De old missus was right there on de fence but wouldn't dare
touch us den. Once de mistress struck me after we was freed and I
grabbed her leg and would have broke her neck. She wanted to apologize
with me de way she had treated me but I would not let her. They thought
it was awful dat dey could not whip de slaves any longer.
"I den worked from one farm to another. I would stay a year or two each
place. Dey wanted me to stay. Dey said I was de best plow boy dey had. I
would cut de old roots and dey would pop but dey paid me nothin' and dey
didn't give you no clothes. We got so much in de share of de cropping
but dey would not share with me so I would leave. So I come to
Fredericktown to try to find my mother's people but when I got here dey
done told me dey was gone to Illinois.
"I den come right out of de field and went right into the dining room. I
was never turned off from any of my work. I would just work 'till I got
tired and quit. Talk about bein' happy! We was sure 'nough some happy
people when dey done took dat yoke offen our necks. Before I was free we
had to shuck three wagon loads of corn a day. De wagon would hold 40
bushels. I'd come home and my fingers would be twisted from so much
work. De oxen would slobber all over de corn before we picked it. It was
cold out dere in de field an' I would wrap my feet up in my dress and
wait till de wagon would drive up. I had no shoes on. Man, I don't know
how I'm here today. It just was de mercy of God that took care of me.
When my mother was dying she done asked God to look over us and it must
have been her prayer dat helped me to still be here.
"When my mother was sick once de doctor come and brought his wife. De
wife always come with de doctor. De doctor would not allow de family to
give de medicine, 'cause he said de family would give in to de sick
person. De wife of de doctor would give de medicine when de doctor was
asleep. I never seen de family give medicine till I come up here. De
doctors always come and stay till de sick person was out of danger and
de wife always come with him.
"Lord, people nowadays don't know nothing 'bout nothin'. Child, I spun
backwards and forwards to de wheel till I wore my feet out till de balls
of my feet was wore to de blood.
"Lots of slaves went to Illinois after freedom, but I never been out of
de State. I don't go to frolics of any kind. I just come here and
settled down and never rambled 'round. I've lived in dis house 55 years
and have buried purty near all my family right out of dis house. I ain't
never had a fuss with any of my neighbors, and I done took de bitter
with de sweet. I ride in an automobile only to funerals. I ain't been on
a train but once or twice and dat was 'bout 40 years ago. I'm interested
in church now, can sit and listen to preachin' and singin' all day, but
I sets right here while dey has all dis other excitement. It's been
seventy years since I done been to Farmington to a picnic. I don't want
de pension so much to roam around but to be protected in my old age and
to have a few more days of peace. I don't care nothin' about clothes.
"I been votin' at that thing ever since it started. Dey would take me a
free ride when votin' time comes. You can't turn around for dey wants to
take you to vote. But after de voting dey won't pay no attention to me.
I never did vote only a straight ticket and I always went my own way.
Dey would sometimes tell me how to vote but I didn't pay them no mind.
My husband did not believe in women voting and he said it would tear up
de country. He said he wanted to be in heaven when de women voted.
Garfield was de first president I ever voted for.
"I believe it would been better to have moved all de colored people way
out west to dem selves. Abraham Lincoln wanted to do dis. It would have
been better on both races and dey would not have mixed up. But de white
people did not want de 'shade' taken out of de country. Many of de
bosses after de freedom couldn't stand it and went in de house and got a
gun and blew out his brains. If Lincoln had lived he would have
separated us like dey did de Indians. We would not have been
slaughtering, burning, hanging, and killin' if we had been put to
ourselves, and had our own laws. Many a person is now in torment because
of dis mixup. God give us a better principle and we could have had
thousands of whites slaughtered but we didn't after the freedom.
"De present generation is a lost condition. If dey don't girdle their
lines and pull dem up closer and ask God to help 'em and quit going to
dem 'hog holes' and drinkin' it is going to be death and destruction.
Dis not only is true of the Negroes but white folks, too. Mother and
father think it is alright. Dese undertakers is goin' out all de time,
night and day, on the highways and pickin' up de carcass of people. It's
sin dat is wrong with de world. De future of the Negro is of the past.
We have some good friends among the white folks but de devil is just got
so strong dat de good can't hardly stand. We have some good citizens in
dis town. I can't read or write but I used to have the white lady read
the funny side of the paper when I set down to eat.
"Once during de war de soldiers was around me very thick. I was coming
back from carryin' de dinner out in de woods to Sam Hildebrand. I took
him a table cloth, napkins and everything first class. I went down to de
house and hid de basket in a hollow log and crossed de creek and dey
hollered, 'Halt!' De soldiers was cussin' me like a bay steer. Dey said,
'I'll kill you right here and blow your brains out if you don't tell.' I
told dem I had been up dere to water de calves so dey give me my pass
and let me go on to de house. I would not tell dem nothin' 'bout Sam
Hildebrand nor where he was hiding. While Sam et his meal I would stand
'round and watch in de woods. I was de oldest one on de place and I was
de only one what had to carry his meals to him.
"I would get up many mornings and hear the bugler blowin'. Das when dey
was callin' the pickets in. You would see de pickets come in just
a-flyin' and out sent de fresh pickets on duty. I was not scared of dem.
Sometimes de soldiers stayed 'round our place for two weeks and camped.
Dey was about 500 and de men laid out on de ground under a government
wagon and in some houses around about. Dese soldiers would go out with
sabers and whack de heads off of de sheep, hogs, and calves and in about
five minutes would have dat yearlin' skinned and dash it into de boilin'
kettle. Den dey would take a long knife and cut off a big piece of meat
with the blood runnin' out. Dey did not cook de meat done and did not
put much salt on it. It sure was funny, seein' dem soldiers eatin' a big
hunk of meat with de blood runnin' out. Dey always had bread but don't
know where dey got it. They was so tired and wore out and their feet was
sore and de infantry was almost barefooted. Dey was always dressed in
blue. Sometimes we would have 30 or 40 yards of goods on de loom and dey
would tear it off and send it home to their family. We was glad enough
to get dem to take dis and get out. There would not be a man on de place
when these 500 soldiers come. We always managed to bury dat gentleman
(money). I can remember the boss took out of his chest his money, enough
to fill the table, and put it in a buck skin bag and he went off with
another man. I don't know what become of de money and dey was killed and
there was no one left to tell de tale.
"I sure had it rough and tumble since de war. Of course I don't have a
boss now. I've worked on de farm, as a dining room girl, washin',
ironing, and hiring out. I would get about $9 to $10 a week. I was
workin' for de railroad people den when de road was runnin' strong here.
My husband he died 40 years ago and he done left me with about 15 cents,
and the mortgage on dis house was about $130. I had a wagon worth about
$40 and old Dr. Newberry took dat for his bill. Den I would do two or
three washings before I come home and would come by de undertaker's and
leave him some money on de funeral. My daughter is a grass widow and she
lives here. Her ex-husband shines shoes down town, but he don't help us
none. My daughter has got three children.
"I don't go to church lately. It's embarrassing to go in this hot
weather. I know where I want dem to bury me. All the old folks buried
out at de old colored cemetery.
"I goes down here to de store and if I can't get de money dey waits till
I can, I can get it on a credit. Dey think Aunt Rhody is one of the
leadin' persons of de town. Of course I don't run all over town but go
to one store. Dey have got used to me and dey know it sometimes takes an
hour for me to make up my mind what I want to buy. When I go to de store
they kid me and say: 'Why, Aunt Rhody, ain't you dead yet? You is goin'
to outlive us all.'
"Slavery learnt me how to work and I wasn't feared of no kind of work.
Most of de people around here don't know nothin' 'bout work. A little
slavery would do dis young age some good and dey is goin' to get it. Dis
young generation is slaughtering our people up, down in de south. Our
people don't know what freedom is down there. Better not go down there
and talk about freedom. My brother went down there in the south and got
back so far from de river dat he never got out. I guess de exposure and
the beatin' killed him. Lots of places dey votes down there, but de
votes is thrown in de waste basket and dey don't count. These people
can't beat up us people and jump up on a bed and close their eyes and
die and expect to go to heaven.
"I ain't never heard de Bible read till I was free in Fredericktown.
When we was slaves we did not have much time to get out and sin much.
Dis generation is goin' to destruction. It's all on account of not
minding their parents. Dey is just hard-headed. It's caused by de way de
old folks acted and is bein' put on dis present generation. I tell 'em,
you don't think dat you can walk these streets and fall dead and never
said nothin' to God to move this gulf of sin and den expect to go to
Heaven. I'm tryin' to serve God and fightin' all de time against de
devil to keep him from knockin' me over. I'm not a person to go on with
a lot of nonsense. I talk to de young people all de time around de
stores and tell 'em dey is got to get up from there to make it across de
river. Dey all talk about me preachin' a sermon around de stores. But de
devil's already got de 'bill of sale' on dem. I'm talkin' to de Lord all
de time cause my stay is going to be mighty short now."
*"Aunt Rhody" Holsell,*
*Fredericktown, Missouri.*
*Interviewed by J. Tom Miles.*
"I've lived in Fredericktown ever since de war and only two or three
times I've been out of hollering distance of town. I was seventeen years
old when de war was over. My boss was Thos. McGee in Wayne County. My
mother and father were slaves. My great-grandmother was a Indian squaw.
My mother was dead four years 'fore de war and my father was dead three
years.
"I sure can 'member 'bout de war. De funniest thing was some soldiers
camped at our house. Man, I would pull weeds in de cotton patch, and
when I got a little older I was a-carding and spinning and dat wheel was
a-singing. I spun all de chain all through de Civil War and I spun all
de warp. De boss treated us very good. De boss would know every row of
corn we would hoe; sometimes we would break de corn off and den we got a
whipping with a weed.
"De boss lost all three of his boys with their shoes on in de war, but
dey did not join de army. De boss was also killed. De boss had a race
horse and de soldiers found dis out an de boss tried to get de hoss out
of de state to New Orleans until after de war. My brother got de race
hoss down there all right. My brother got on Knight and rode clear to
Cape and his closes were torn off. He get to Cape just as de boat was
pulling out. Dey killed de boss when he got on another hoss an he was
shot 'cause de soldiers thought he was on de race hoss. Dey killed de
boss in August on Monday. De boss was going that day to Greenville to
make his will.
"After de war I worked my way to Fredericktown. I started out bareheaded
an barefooted. I worked from one farm to another. I worked at one farm
for two years and at another for one year. These people paid me a
little. It took 'bout five years 'fore I got to Fredericktown. I did
anything. I cradled five acres of oats and my husband bound it. I didn't
fear no kind of boss. I have ten great grand-children, and one
great-great-grandchild.
"I took Sam Hildebrand's dinner to him many times and when Sam was
killed in Southern Illinois dey tried to get me to go up to Farmington
to identify him. But I would not do it. I told dem dat he had a mark
behind his shoulder dat dey could see. I 'member once when Sam
Hildebrand was shot and came to our place to have his sore washed out. I
held de wash pan for old Tom McGee to wash his wound.
"De old folks had all kinds of tea to heal people. De old mistress took
de 'ridicue' [TR: reticule] with her and would be gone for a week going
from one sick person to another. My boss caused my mother's death. She
was on a wagon of oats and was being pulled by a yoke of oxen. De wagon
turned and she fell off on a sapling and it went through her skin and
dey had to saw de sapling off and she had to lay with dat snag in her
side till de doctor twenty miles away come. It was in August and she
died with poison. Her coffin was made right out on de work bench. Dey
didn't have anything in de coffin but a winding sheet scolloped nicely
and a shroud for de body. It was a miracle to me when I came up here to
see how dey dressed up de dead people. When I die just wrap me in a
clean sheet. That was what my fore-parents had. It's better to think
whar dat soul is. Two wheel carts was mostly used at funerals in those
days with oxen. The driver would be walking along beside driving.
"De Boss said one man was treated mean and they could not do anything
with him. The old fellow would play his gourd and de snakes would come
'round. Finally dey sent him down to New Orleans and sold him on de
block.
"If you move on Saturday you won't stay long. If de boss decides about
you on Tuesday or Friday these are hanging days. I can't read or write
but I have a little mother sense. We have three spirits, evil spirit in
de grave, another spirit which is wandering, and a spirit in heaven.
"I think slavery is good for dem dat understands it. We are all slaves
now. We have a rough and tumble business. Slavery was cruel but it's
about as bad now. Them days they didn't hang anybody for doing bad
things. I may be wrong. I been voting ever since de mess got up. My
husband said he wanted to be in heaven when de women would be messin'
'round among de men and voting. I wish we had a whole lot of Abraham
Lincolns now. He did a great deed when he took de yoke off us colored
people. We will get a little rest anyway."