My name is George Thompson, I was born in Monroe County, Kentucky near
the Cumberland river Oct. 8, 1854, on the Manfred Furgeson plantation,
who owned about 50 slaves. Mister Furgerson [TR: before, Furgeson] was a
preacher and had three daughters and was kind to his slaves.
I was quite a small boy when our family, which included an older
sister, was sold to Ed. Thompson in Medcalf Co. Kentucky, who owned
about 50 other slaves, and as was the custom then we was given the name
of our new master, "Thompson".
I was hardly twelve years old when slavery was abolished, yet I can
remember at this late date most of the happenings as they existed at
that time.
I was so young and unexperienced when freed I remained on the Thompson
plantation for four years after the war and worked for my board and
clothes as coach boy and any other odd jobs around the plantation.
I have no education, I can neither read nor write, as a slave I was not
allowed to have books. On Sundays I would go into the woods and gather
ginseng which I would sell to the doctors for from 10¢ to 15¢ a pound
and with this money I would buy a book that was called the Blue Back
Speller. Our master would not allow us to have any books and when we
were lucky enough to own a book we would have to keep it hid, for if our
master would find us with a book he would whip us and take the book from
us. After receiving three severe whippings I gave up and never again
tried for any learning, and to this day I can neither read nor write.
Slaves were never allowed off of their plantation without a written
pass, and if caught away from their plantation without a pass by the
Pady-Rollers or Gorillars (who were a band of ruffians) they wore
whipped.
As there were no oil lamps or candles, another black boy and myself
were stationed at the dining table to hold grease lamps for the white
folks to see to eat. And we would use brushes to shoo away the flies.
In 1869 I left the plantation to go on my own. I landed in Heart County,
Ky. and went to work for Mr. George Parish in the tobacco fields at
$25.00 per year and two suits of clothes; after working two years for
Mr. Parish I left. I drifted from place to place in Alabama and
Mississippi, working first at one place and then another, and finally
drifted into Franklin in 1912 and went to work on the Fred Murry farm on
Hurricane road for 10 years. I afterwards worked for Ashy Furgerson, a
house mover.
I have lived at my present address, 651 North Young St. since coming to
Franklin.
(Can furnish photograph if wanted) [TR: no photograph found.]
Archie Koritz, Field Worker
Federal Writers' Project
Porter County--District #1
Valparaiso, Indiana
EX-SLAVES
REV. WAMBLE [TR: above in handwriting is 'Womble']
1827 Madison Street
Gary, Indiana
Rev. Wamble was born a slave in Monroe County, Mississippi, in 1859. The
Westbrook family owned many slaves in charge of over-seers who managed
the farm, on which there were usually two hundred or more slaves. One of
the Westbrook daughters married a Mr. Wamble, a wagon-maker. The
Westbrook family gave the newly-weds two slaves, as did the Wamble
family. One of the two slaves coming from the Westbrook family was Rev.
Wamble's grandfather. It seems that the slaves took the name of their
master, hence Rev. Wamble's grandfather was named Wamble.
Families owning only a few slaves and in moderate circumstances usually
treated their slaves kindly since like a farmer with only a few horses,
it was to their best interest to see that their slaves were well
provided for. The slaves were valuable, and there was no funds to buy
others, whereas the large slave owners were wealthy and one slave more
or less made little difference. The Reverend's father and his brothers
were children of original African slaves and were of the same age as the
Wamble boys and grew up together. The Reverend's grandfather was manager
of the farm and the three Wamble boys worked under him the same as the
slaves. Mr. Wamble never permitted any of his slaves to be whipped, nor
were they mistreated.
Mr. Westbrook was a deacon in the Methodist Church and had two slave
over-seers to manage the farm and the slaves. He was very severe with
his slaves and none were ever permitted to leave the farm. If they did
leave the farm and were found outside, they were arrested and whipped.
Then Westbrook was notified and one of the over-seers would come and
take the slave home where he would again be whipped. The slave was tied
to a cedar tree or post and lashed with a snake whip.
Rev. Wamble's mother was a Deerbrook [HW: Westbrook] slave and when the
Reverend was two years of age, his mother died from a miscarriage caused
by a whipping. When the women slaves were in an advanced stage of
pregnancy they were made to lie face down in a specially dug depression
in the ground and were whipped. Otherwise they were treated like the
men. Their arms were tied around a cedar tree or post, and they were
lashed.
Since the Reverend appeared to be a promising slave, both the Westbrooks
and the Wambles wanted him, much like one would want a valuable colt
today. Since the Reverend's grandmother was a Westbrook and the Wambles
treated the slaves much better, she wanted him to become a Wamble. She
hid the child in a shed, what would probably be a poor dog-house today,
and fed the child during the night time.
During this period of his life the Reverend remembers what happened to
one of the Westbrook slaves who had run away. One evening he came to the
Wamble home and asked for some supper. Wamble took the slave into his
home and after feeding him, placed a log chain which was hanging above
the fire-place, around the slave's waist, left him to sleep on a bench
in front of the fire-place. The next morning after the slave was given
breakfast by the Wambles, Westbrook, his son and over-seer appeared.
Rev. Wamble in his hide-out remembers being awakened by the sound of the
slave being whipped and the moaning of the slave. After the whipping,
the slave was turned loose. After he had gone about a mile through the
bottom-land toward the river, Westbrook turned his hounds loose on the
slave's tracks. The hounds treed the slave before he had gone another
mile, much like a dog would tree a cat.
The Westbrooks pulled the slave down from the tree and the dogs slashed
his foot. The slave was then whipped and long ropes placed around him.
He was driven back to the Wamble place with whips where he was once
again whipped. They [TR: Then?] they drove him two miles to the
Westbrook place where he was whipped once more. Whatever became of the
slave, whether he died or recovered, is unknown. One unusual feature of
this story is that Westbrook who permitted his slaves to be whipped, was
a church deacon, whereas Wamble, who never attended church, never
whipped or mistreated his slaves.
The Reverend states that in the community where he resided the slaves
were well treated except for the whippings they received. They were
well-fed, and if injured or sick, were attended by a doctor on the same
principal that a person would care for an injured horse or sick cow. The
slaves were valuable, and it was to the best interest of the owner to
see that they were able to work.
In case of slaves having children, the children became the property of
the mother's owner. If the south had won the war, Wamble would have been
a Westbrook since his mother was a Westbrook slave, and if it lost, he
would go to live with his father and take the name of his father, a
Wamble slave. So until the war was over he was hid out much like a small
child would bring a stray dog home and hide it somewhere for fear that
if his parents discovered it, it would be taken away.
The living quarters of the slaves were made of logs covered with mud,
and the roof was covered with coarse boards upon which dirt about a
foot in depth was placed. There were no floors except dirt or the bare
ground. The furniture consisted of a small stove and the beds were two
boards extending from two walls, the extending ends resting on a peg
driven into the ground. This would make a one-legged bed. The two boards
were covered across ways with more boards and the slaves slept on these
boards or upon the dirt floor. There were no blankets provided for them.
For food the slaves received plenty of meat, potatoes, and whatever
could be raised. If the master had plenty to eat, so did the slaves, but
if food was not plentiful for the master, the slaves had less to eat.
Only one of the three Wamble boys joined the southern army. Until the
war was over, the other two boys who refused to go to war hid out in the
surrounding woods and hills. The only time the Reverend's father left
the farm was to attend his master Billy, when he was in a hospital
recovering from wounds received in battle.
Wamble was a wagon-maker, and he made two or three wagons which usually
took about six months. Then he hitched teams to them and went north to
Missouri, Kansas and Arkansas and kept going until he had sold the
wagons and teams, keeping one wagon and team, with which to return home.
Some times the master would be gone for a period of nine to twelve
months. During his absence the Reverend's grandfather was in charge of
the farm.
The grandmother of Rev. Wamble was a full-blooded African negro, brought
to this country as a slave at seventeen years of age. She was a very
large and strong woman and was often hired out to do a man's work.
Slaves were forbidden to have papers in their possession and since they
were forbidden to read papers, hardly any slaves could read or write.
There never was any occasion or need to do these things. It was not
known that the Reverend's grandmother could read and write until after
the Civil War. The Reverend remembers his grandmother bringing an old
newspaper to his hide-out during the Civil War, late at night, after
the Wamble family had retired, and making a candle from fried meat
grease and a cord string, which made a very tiny light. She placed some
old blankets over the walls so that no light could be seen through the
cracks in the hut. She would then place the paper as near as possible to
the light, without burning it, and read the paper. It was never
discovered where or how she learned to read and write.
If a young, good-looking, husky negro was trustworthy, the family would
make him the driver of the family carriage. They would dress him in the
best clothes obtainable and with a silk-finished beaver skin hat. The
driver sat on a seat on the top and towards the front of the carriage.
He was compelled to stay on this seat when waiting for any of the family
that he might be driving, regardless of the weather or the length of
time that he had to wait.
The mail was carried in the same kind of vehicle with negro drivers. In
each town there was a certain rack at which this mail carriage would
stop in each village or wherever the designated stop was made. Upon
nearing the rack and coming to a stop, the driver would blow a bugle
call which could be heard for miles around, and people hearing this
bugle would come and get their mail. The Reverend remembers that several
of these drivers froze to death during the cold weather, and that in the
winter, many times the horses on the mail carriage upon coming to this
rack would stop, and the driver would be sitting frozen to death in his
seat.
Men would take him down, carefully saving the silk beaver-skin hat for
some other driver.
Since the slaves had no votes, they had no interest in politics when
they became free and knew nothing about political conditions other than
that after the Civil War they were free and had a vote. As a boy the
Reverend remembers seeing the white and black soldiers marching on
election day.
The politicians would always tell the negroes what was good for them and
making it appear that it was for their best interest, and they should
vote for him, always giving them the desert first and making them think
that they were on the level no matter what the meal might be or what
hardships they were causing the negro to suffer. On one instance after
the negroes were forbidden to vote they marched in a body to the polls
and demanded a Democratic ballot and were then permitted to vote.
Rev. Wamble was twenty-seven years of age before he saw and read his
first newspaper. He lived with the Wambles for twenty years after the
war, when his father then in partnership with another man, purchased
forty acres of land. He attended his first school for a period of two
months only in 1871. In 1872 the government built a school on his
father's farm and it was taught by a missionary. The school term was for
a period of three months each year. The Reverend attended this school
for seven years.
In 1880 he married the first time. His first wife died in Memphis,
Tennessee, in 1888. By this marriage there were four children. On
February 1, 1892, the Reverend with his two surviving children all
entered school at a college in Little Rock, Arkansas. One of his
daughters died in the third year of her school year, but the other
graduated from the Normal School and was a teacher for several years. At
the present time she is married to a minister in Louisiana and is the
mother of ten children and is a nurse. The three oldest children have
degrees and the others are expected to do the same.
The Reverend married his second wife in 1894. She died in 1907. By this
marriage nine children were born.
The Reverend has been in the ministry for thirty-seven years. Seeing the
need of making more money, two of his sons came to Gary, Indiana, to
work in 1924. Now both are working in the post-office. Two years later
he came to Gary for the same reason and after working two years in the
coke plant, was laid off due to the depression. The youngest daughter of
the Reverend by his second marriage graduated from a college in Pine
Bluff, Arkansas, and is now teaching in New York City.
Although the Reverend is advanced in years, he is quite active and
healthy. He says he has a small pension and is just waiting until it is
time to pass on to the next world. He has six children and seventeen
grandchildren living.
As the Reverend remembered the south, none of the white people worked at
manual labor, but usually sat under a shade tree. They were usually
clerks, bookkeepers or tradesmen.
Ex-Slave Stories
5th District
Vanderburgh County
Lauana Creel
1415 S. Barker Avenue, Evansville, Indiana
THE BIOGRAPHY OF A CHILD BORN IN SLAVERY
SAMUEL WATSON
[HW: Personal Interview]
Samuel Watson, a citizen of Evansville, Indiana, was born in Webster
County, Kentucky, February 14, 1862. His master's home was located two
and one half miles from Clay, Kentucky on Craborchard Creek.
"Uncle Sammy" as the negro children living near his home on South East
Fifth Street call the old man, possesses an unusually clear memory. In
fact he remembers seeing the soldiers and hearing the report of cannon
while he was yet an infant.
One story told by the old negro relates how; "old missus" saved "old
massa's horses". The story follows:
The mistress accompanied by a number of slaves was walking out one
morning and all were startled by the sound of hurrying horses. Soon many
mounted soldiers could be seen coming over a hill in the distance. The
child Samuel was later told that the soldiers were making their way to
Fort Donelson and were pressing horses into service. They were also
enlisting negroes into service whenever possible.
Old master, Thomas Watson, owned many good able-bodied slaves and many
splendid horses. The mistress realised the danger of loss and opening
the "big gate" that separated the corral from the forest lands, Mrs.
Watson ran into the midst of the horses shouting and frailing them. The
frightened horses ran into the forest off the highway and toward the
river.
When the soldiers stopped at the Watson plantation they found only a few
old work horses standing under a tree and not desiring these they want
on their way.
The little negro boy ran and hid himself in the corner made by a great
outside chimney, where he was found later, by his frightened mother.
Uncle Samuel remembers that the horses came home the following
afternoon, none missing.
Uncle Samuel remembers when the war ended and the slaves were
emancipated. "Some were happy! and some were sad!" Many dreaded leaving
their old homes and their masters' families.
Uncle Samuel's mother and three children were told that they were free
people and the master asked the mother to take her little ones and go
away.
She complied and took her family to the plantation of Jourdain James,
hoping to work and keep her family together. Wages received for her work
failed to support the mother and children so she left the employ of Mr.
James and worked from place to place until her children became half
starved and without clothing.
The older children, remembering better and happier days, ran away from
their mother and went back to their old master.
Thomas Watson went to Dixon, Kentucky and had an article of indenture
drawn up binding both Thomas and Laurah to his service for a long number
of years. Little Samuel only remained with his mother who took him to
the home of William Allen Price. Mr. Price's plantation was situated in
Webster County, Kentucky about half-way between Providence and Clay on
Craborchard Creek. Mr. Price had the little boy indentured to his
service for a period of eighteen years. There the boy lived and worked
on the plantation.
He said he had a good home among good people. His master gave him five
real whippings within a period of fourteen years but Uncle Samuel
believes he deserved every lash administered.
Uncle Samuel loved his master's family, he speaks of Miss Lena, Miss
Lula, Master Jefferson and Master John and believes they are still
alive. Their present home is at Cebra, Kentucky.
It was the custom for a slave indentured to a master to be given a fair
education, a good horse, bridle, saddle and a suit of clothes for his
years of toil, but Mr. Price did not believe the boy deserved the pay
and refused to pay him. A lawyer friend sued in behalf of the Negro and
received a judgement of $115.00 (one hundred and fifteen dollars).
Eighteen dollars repaid the lawyer for his service and Samuel started
out with $95.00 and his freedom.
Evansville became the home of Samuel Watson in 1882. The trip was made
by train to Henderson then on transfer boat along the Ohio to
Evansville.
The young negro man was impressed by the boat and crew and said he loved
the town from the first glimpse.
Dr. Bacon, a prominent citizen living at Chandler Avenue and Second
Street, employed Samuel as coachman. His next service was as house-man
for Levi Igleheart, 1010 Upper Second Street. Mr. Igleheart grew to
trust Samuel and gave him many privileges allowing him to care for
horses and to manage business for the family.
Samuel was married in 1890. His wife was born in Evansville and knew
nothing of slavery by birth or indenture.
Uncle Samuel was given a job at the Trinity Church, corner of Third and
Chestnut Streets. Mr. Igleheart recommended him for the position. He
received $30.00 per month for his services for a period of six years.
Mr. McNeely employed him for several years as janitor for lodges and
secret orders. The old negro was also a paper hanger and wall cleaner
and did well untill the panic seized him as it did others.
Uncle Samuel was entitled to an old age pension which he recieved from
1934 until 1935 but January 15th, 1936 something went wrong and the
money was with held. Then uncle Samuel was sent to the poor house. Still
he was not unhappy and did what he could to make others happy.
In 1936 he again applied and received the pension. $17.00 per month is
paid for his upkeep, his only labor consists of tending a little garden
and doing light chores. He lives with William Crosby on S.E. Fifth
Street.
Iris L Cook
District #4
Floyd County
SLAVE STORY
STORY OF NANCY WHALLEN
924 Pearl St.
New Albany, Ind.
Nancy Whallen is now about 81 years of age. She doesn't know exactly.
She was about 5 year of age when Freedom was declared. Nancy was born
and raised in Hart County near Hardinsburg, Kentucky. She is very hard
to talk to as her memory is failing and she can not hear very well.
The little negro girl lived the usual life of a rural negro in Civil War
Time and afterwards. She remembers the "sojers" coming thru the place
and asking for food. Some of them camped on the farm and talked to her
and teased her.
She tells about one big nigger called "Scott" on the place who could
outwork all the others. He would hang his hat and shirt on a tree limb
and work all day long in the blazing sun on the hottest day.
The colored folk, used to have revivals, out in the woods. They would
sometimes build a sort of brush shelter with leaves for a roof and
service a would be held here. Preachin' and shouting' sometimes lasted
all day Sundays. Colored folks came from miles around when they possibly
could get away. These affairs were usually held away from the "white
folks" who seldom if ever saw these gatherings.
Observation of the writer.
The old woman remembers the Big Eclipse of the sun or the "Day of Dark"
as she called it. The chickens all went to roost and the darkies all
thought the end of the world had come. The cattle lowed and everyone was
scared to death.
She lived down in Kentucky after the War until she was quite a young
woman and then came to Indiana where she has lived ever since. She lives
now with her daughter in New Albany.
Special Assignment
Emily Hobson
Dist. #3
Parke County
INTERVIEW WITH ANDERSON WHITTED,
COLORED EX-SLAVE, OF ROCKVILLE, INDIANA
[Illustration: Anderson Whitted]
Mr. Whitted will be 89 years old next month October 1937. He was born in
Orange County, North Carolina. His mother took care of the white
children so her nine children were very well treated. The master was a
Doctor. The family were Hickory Quakers and did not believe in
mistreating their slaves, always providing them with plenty to eat, and
clothing to wear to church on Sunday. Despite a law that prohibited
books to Negroes, his family had a Bible, and an elementary spelling
book. Mr. Whitted's father belonged to his master's half-brother and
lived fourteen miles away. He was allowed a horse to go see them every
two weeks. The father could read, and spell very well so would teach
them on his visits. Mr. Whitted learned to read the Bible first, then in
later years has learned to read other things. It was the custom for the
master to search the negro huts, but Mr. Whitted's master never did.
The Doctor often took Mr. Whitted's grandmother with him to help care
for the sick. When the war broke out the Master's son joined the
southern forces. The son was wounded. The Doctor and Mr. Whitted's
grandmother went for the boy. On the way home the Doctor died but the
grandmother got the boy home and nursed him back to health. Life for the
Negroes was different after the son began running the place, he was not
good to them. Mr. Whitted was then 16 years old, and the older brother
was the overseer. The negroes had been allowed a share of the crop but
the new master refused them anything to live on. In that region the
wheat was harvested the middle of June. There was a big crop that year
but the entire family was turned out before the harvest, with nothing.
Mr. Whitted left his older brother with his mother and the children
sitting by the road, while he ran the 14 miles for his father to find
out what to do. The father borrowed two teams and wagons, rented a house
in the edge of town, and moved the family in.
The slaves were freed about that time, and for the first time in their
lives they were free, and the entire family together. The father went to
the governor for food. The government was allowing hard tack and
pickled beef for the negroes. They received their allotment, and were
well satisfied with hard tack because they were free. In telling about
the pickled beef he says he never has seen any beef since that looked
like it; he believed that it was horse meat. The father started working
in a mill in 1865. He was soon bringing home food stuff from there, and
in time they had a crop on their little place.
The older brother worked in the mornings and went to a Quaker Normal
School in the afternoon. Pres. Harrison gave him an appointment in the
revenue department, then as he grew older he was transferred to the post
office department. He was retired on a pension at the age of 75. He is
still living in Washington, D.C., and is now 97 years old.
During the war Mr. Whitted ran away, going 12 miles to the camp of the
northern soldiers where he stayed two weeks. They gave him a horse to
ride, and sent him gathering fuel through the woods for them. Those were
the happiest days he had ever known--his first freedom.
Mr. Whitted was never sold, but he often saw processions go past after a
sale, the wagon loaded with provisions first, then the slaves tied
together following. They often took the babies away from their mothers,
and sold them. Some old woman, too old to work, would then care for the
little ones until they were old enough to work. At six years old they
were put to work thinning corn, worming the tobacco, and pulling weeds.
At seven they were taught to use a hoe. At 16 they were full hands,
working along with the older men.
In April 1880 Mr. Whitted left Orange County, it was so very rough it
was hard to make a living. He just started out in search of a better
place, leaving his wife and seven children there. In November he sent
for them, he was working at the brick yards in Rockville. They were
finishing the court house. He was so anxious to make a living he often
did as much as two men. One child was born here. His wife died soon
after coming to Rockville. He stayed single for three years, but found
he could not care for his family and married again. His second wife died
a number of years ago. He now spends the winters with his three living
daughters, and during the summer months, a daughter comes to Rockville
to enjoy his home.
Mr. Whitted's uncle belonged to a mean master. The slaves worked hard
all day, then were chained together at night. The uncle ran away in the
early part of the war, and after two years broke through the lines, and
joined the northern army, going back after emancipation.
Iris Cook
Dist 4
Floyd Co.
SLAVE STORY
THE STORY OF ALEX WOODSON
905 E. 4th St.
New Albany, Ind.