*Interview with Henry Johnson,*
*St. Louis, Missouri.*
*(Written by Grace E. White.)*
The subject of this sketch is Henry Johnson, over ninety years of age,
living at 1526 Hanley Road, Lincoln Terrace, St. Louis, Missouri. Henry
is of dark complexion and has a wealth of long white hair and feminine
features.
His eyesight is good. He is in excellent health for his age. The old man
admits that his main weakness is chewing tobacco. He was seated in the
living room of his 4-room, old fashioned frame cottage which is poorly
furnished, but clean, where he lives with his wife, at least twenty-five
years younger than himself. His story follows:
"My name is Henry Johnson. I was born in Patrick County, Virginia and
was raised all over de state. I was only sold twice. My father's name
was Bill Alexander and my mother's name was Fannie, but I didn't know
nothin' 'bout my parents till I was past eighteen years old or about
that. I never knowed my real age. My owner's name was Billy Johnson in
Patrick County so I always carried his name. When I was a little bit 'a
fellow, I used to pack water to twenty-five and thirty men in one field,
den go back to de house and bring enough water for breakfast de next
morning. When I got a little bigger, I had to take a little hoe and dig
weeds out of de crop. If our white boss see a little grass we overlooked
he would handcuff our feet to a whipping post, den chain the slave
around de stomach to de post and strap de chin over de top of de post
and place your hands in front of you.
"In de start de slave has been stripped naked, and lashed, often to
death. Dey would be left strapped after from twenty-five to fifty lashes
every two or three hours to stand dere all night. De next day, de
overseer would be back with a heavy paddle full of holes that had been
dipped in boiling water and beat until de whole body was full of
blisters. Den he'd take a cat-o'-nine-tails dipped in hot salt water to
draw out de bruised blood and would open everyone of dem blisters with
dat. If de slave did not die from dat torture, he would be unfastened
from de whipping post, and made go to de field just as he was. Often
times he would die shortly after. Dey did the women de same."
Here he showed the writer scars on his head and shoulders which he said
were from those beatings.
"I never knowed what a shirt was until I was past twenty. When my young
master went three miles to school, he rode on a horse, I had to walk
along side de horse to carry his books, den go home and fetch him a hot
dinner for noon and go back after him at night to carry dem books.
"My boss had eleven children. He had one hundred and twenty-five slaves
on one of de plantations, two hundred on another. On all his plantations
he owned better'n 1500 slaves. He was one of de richest land owners in
de state of Virginia. He often told me I was born just one hour before
his youngest son. I stayed with dat family until way after de war was
fought.
"Dey would take a great string of slaves in de road on Sunday and make
us walk to church. Buggies with de white folks in would be in front of
us, in de midst of us, and all betwixt and behind us. When we got dat
four or five miles we had to sit on a log in de broiling sun, while a
white man preached to us. All dey evah would say would be niggers obey
your masters and mistress and don't steal from 'em. And lo and behold,
honey, de masters would make us slaves steal from each of the slave
owners. Our master would make us surround a herd of his neighbor's
cattle, round dem up at night, and make us slaves stay up all night long
and kill and skin every one of dem critters, salt the skins down in
layers in de master's cellar, and put de cattle piled ceilin' high in de
smoke house so nobody could identify skinned cattle.
"Den when de sheriff would come around lookin' for all dem stolen
critters, our boss would say, 'Sheriff, just go right on down to dem
niggahs' cabins and search dem good, I know my niggers don't steal.'
Course de sheriff come to our cabins and search, sure we didn't have
nothin' didn't belong to us, but de boss had plenty. After de sheriff's
search, we had to salt and smoke all dat stolen meat and hang it in old
marse smoke house for him. Den dey tell us, don't steal. Dey raised
turkeys in de 500 lots and never did give us one. So we wanted one so
bad once, I put corn underneath de cabin and a turkey, a great big one,
would come under our cabin to eat dat corn. One day when I got a chance
I caught dat old gobbler by de neck and him and me went round and round
under dat old cabin house. He was de biggest strongest bird I ever see,
I was only a boy but finally I beat. I twisted his neck till he died.
Den I took out up to de big house, fast as anything, to tell my old miss
one of our finest turkeys dead. She said stop cryin' Henry and throw him
under de hill. I was satisfied. I run back, picked dat ole bird, taken
all his feathers to de river and throwed dem in. Dat night we cooked
him, and didn't we eat somethin' good. I had to tell her 'bout dat
missin' bird 'cause when dey check up it all had to tally so dat fixed
dat.
"My old master told me when de war was being fought and the Yankees was
on de way coming through Franklin County, Virginia, 'My little niggah,
do you know how old you is?' I said: 'No sah, boss.' He said: 'You are
seventeen years old.' I never even saw my mother and father until I was
in my twenties. A white man taken me to Danville, Virginia to drive his
carriage for him. After I was dere a spell a colored man kept watching
me so much I got plum scared. Dis was after de war was over. Den one
day, lo and behold, he jumped at me and he grabbed me and asked me where
was I staying. I did not know whether to tell him or not, I was so
scared. Den he said I am your father and I am goin' to take you to your
mother and sisters and brothers down in Greenville, Virginia. When he
got me dere, I found two sisters and four brothers. Dey was all so glad
to see me dey shouted and cried and carried on so I was so scared I
tried to run away, 'cause I didn't know nothin' 'bout none of them. And
I thought dat white man what brought me down here ought to have saved me
from all dis. I just thought a white man was my God, I didn't know no
better.
"Well, when my folks finally stopped rejoicing, my mother only had two
chickens. She killed and cooked dem for me. My father and brothers would
go to work every day and leave me at home with my mother for over a
year. They would not trust me to work, feared I would run off 'cause I
didn't no nothin' 'bout them. Hadn't even heard of a mother and father.
My brother and father would work all day and only get one peck of corn
or one pound of meat or one quart of molasses for a whole day's work
from sun up till sun down. We had to grind dat corn for our flour, and
got biscuits once a year at Christmas and den only one biscuit apiece.
"After a little better'n a year after I come, the white man told my
father to bring his family and move from Greenhill, Virginia to Patrick
County, Virginia to his big farm, and farm dere for him and he would
give him one half of all he raised for his share. We went, and did we
raise a big crop. He kep' his word all right and we stayed dere till de
white man died five years later. Den we went to another farm. We had
cleared enough in the five years to buy us a fine pair of oxen and had
money besides. So we went to another farm and went to work giving the
owner of the farm one third of the crop and kep' two thirds ourselves.
We stayed there two years. Then father sold de oxen and went to
Sweetville, Virginia and bought $200 worth of land and stayed about five
years. We made our crop with a hoe and made good. Den I left home and
run about all over, learned how to play a violin and made my livin' with
it for a long time.
"I quit dat and railroaded about eight years working on sections and new
grading. Den went to Decatur, Alabama and worked with a land company
putting down pipings about three months. I quit dat and married Anna
Johnson and come to Giles County, Tennessee. We had one son.
"I came to St. Louis from Tennessee more dan forty years ago. I got work
right away at Cycle & Harris Steel Plant on 18th Street and worked dere
about six months, when I got scalded almost to death on the job. I got a
new nose and a new ear from dat accident. All de flesh of my right arm
was off to de bone. I was in de hospital eight months from it and I got
$500 out of de damage suit. I bought me a horse and wagon out of it and
done light hauling, and moved out here in Lincoln Terrace and been out
here ever since.
"I landscaped out here for sixteen years until I was disabled to work
hard any more. I got a garden but I can't make any money from it, 'cause
all de other folks out here got gardens too. I am a deacon in Mt. Zion
Baptist Church right here at de corner. Rev. Thomas is my pastor.
"I only went to school three days in my whole life but a colored friend
taught me how to spell out of a blue back spelling book. His name was
Charlie Snowball. I was learning fine until I got burned. Den my eye
sight was poor for a long time, but I see now very good. I only need
glasses for to read what little I can read. I can't write at all. My
grandfather was 135 years old when he died, and my father lived to be
135.
"De white people in Missouri sure have been mighty good to me since I
been here. I have as nice clothes as any man in St. Louis, good clothes
what I mean. All been given' to me by white people able to give
somethin'. I have not had to buy a hat, shoes or suit of clothes for
over twenty-five years, and got far more good clothes dan I can ever
wear out till my dying day. I think these 20th century white folks dat
have principle are trying to make amends to Negroes to make up for the
meanness their foreparents done to us, so I try to forgive 'em all in my
heart for the sake of a few good ones now. I've buried two wifes from
dis very house. I am now living with my third wife and she is a mighty
fine woman. We have been together about sixteen years."