Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
MORRIS SHEPPARD
Age 85 yrs.
Fort Gibson, Okla.
Old Master tell me I was borned in November 1852, at de old home place
about five miles east of Webber's Falls, mebbe kind of northeast, not
far from de east bank of de Illinois River.
Master's name was Joe Sheppard, and he was a Cherokee Indian. Tall and
slim and handsome. He had black eyes and mustache but his hair was
iron gray, and everybody liked him because he was so good-natured and
kind.
I don't remember old Mistress' name. My mammy was a Crossland negro
before she come to belong to Master Joe and marry my pappy, and I
think she come wid old Mistress and belong to her. Old Mistress was
small and mighty pretty too, and she was only half Cherokee. She
inherit about half a dozen slaves, and say dey was her own and old
Master can't sell one unless she give him leave to do it.
Dey only had two families of slaves wid about twenty in all, and dey
only worked about fifty acres, so we sure did work every foot of it
good. We git three or four crops of different things out of dat farm
every year, and something growing on dat place winter and summer.
Pappy's name was Caesar Sheppard and Mammy's name was Easter. Dey was
both raised 'round Webber's Falls somewhere. I had two brothers, Silas
and George, dat belong to Mr. George Holt in Webber's Falls town. I
got a pass and went to see dem sometimes, and dey was both treated
mighty fine.
The Big House was a double log wid a big hall and a stone chimney but
no porches, wid two rooms at each end, one top side of de other. I
thought it was mighty big and fine.
Us slaves lived in log cabins dat only had one room and no windows so
we kept de doors open most of de time. We had home-made wooden beds
wid rope springs, and de little ones slept on trundle beds dat was
home made too.
At night dem trundles was jest all over de floor, and in de morning we
shove dem back under de big beds to git dem out'n de way. No nails in
none of dem nor in de chairs and tables. Nails cost big money and old
Master's blacksmith wouldn't make none 'cepting a few for old Master
now and den, so we used wooden dowels to put things together.
They was so many of us for dat little field we never did have to work
hard. Up at five o'clock and back in sometimes about de middle of de
evening, long before sundown, unless they was a crop to git in before
it rain or something like dat.
When crop was laid by de slaves jest work 'round at dis and dat and
keep tol'able busy. I never did have much of a job, jest tending de
calves mostly. We had about twenty calves and I would take dem out and
graze 'em while some grown-up negro was grazing de cows so as to keep
de cows milk. I had me a good blaze-faced horse for dat.
One time old Master and another man come and took some calves off and
Pappy say old Master taking dem off to sell. I didn't know what "sell"
meant and I ast Pappy, "Is he going to bring 'em back when he git
through selling them?" I never did see no money neither, until time of
de War or a little before.
Master Joe was sure a good provider, and we always had plenty of corn
pone, sow belly and greens, sweet potatoes, cow peas and cane
molasses. We even had brown sugar and cane molasses most of de time
before de War. Sometimes coffee, too.
De clothes wasn't no worry neither. Everything we had was made by my
folks. My aunt done de carding and spinning and my mammy done de
weaving and cutting and sewing, and my pappy could make cowhide shoes
wid wooden pegs. Dey was for bad winter only.
Old Master bought de cotton in Ft. Smith because he didn't raise no
cotton, but he had a few sheep and we had wool-mix for winter.
Everything was stripedy 'cause Mammy like to make it fancy. She dye
wid copperas and walnut and wild indigo and things like dat and make
pretty cloth. I wore a stripedy shirt till I was about eleven years
old, and den one day while we was down in de Choctaw Country old
Mistress see me and nearly fall off'n her horse! She holler, "Easter,
you go right now and make dat big buck of a boy some britches!"
We never put on de shoes until about late November when de frost begin
to hit regular and split our feet up, and den when it git good and
cold and de crop all gathered in anyways, they is nothing to do
'cepting hog killing and a lot of wood chopping, and you don't git
cold doing dem two things.
De hog killing mean we gits lots of spare-ribs and chitlings, and
somebody always git sick eating too much of dat fresh pork. I always
pick a whole passel of muskatines for old Master and he make up sour
wine, and dat helps out when we git the bowel complaint from eating
dat fresh pork.
If somebody bad sick he git de doctor right quick, and he don't let no
negroes mess around wid no poultices and teas and sech things like
cupping-horns neither!
Us Cherokee slaves seen lots of green corn shootings and de like of
dat, but we never had no games of our own. We was too tired when we
come in to play any games. We had to have a pass to go any place to
have singing or praying, and den they was always a bunch of patrollers
around to watch everything we done. Dey would come up in a bunch of
about nine men on horses, and look at all our passes, and if a negro
didn't have no pass dey wore him out good and made him go home. Dey
didn't let us have much enjoyment.
Right after de War de Cherokees that had been wid the South kind of
pestered the freedmen some, but I was so small dey never bothered me;
jest de grown ones. Old Master and Mistress kept on asking me did de
night riders persecute me any but dey never did. Dey told me some of
dem was bad on negroes but I never did see none of dem night riding
like some said dey did.
Old Master had some kind of business in Fort Smith, I think, 'cause he
used to ride in to dat town 'bout every day on his horse. He would
start at de crack of daylight and not git home till way after dark.
When he get home he call my uncle in and ask about what we done all
day and tell him what we better do de next day. My uncle Joe was de
slave boss and he tell us what de Master say do.
When dat Civil War come along I was a pretty big boy and I 'remember
it good as anybody. Uncle Joe tell us all to lay low and work hard and
nobody bother us, and he would look after us. He sure stood good with
de Cherokee neighbors we had, and dey all liked him. There was Mr. Jim
Collins, and Mr. Bell, and Mr. Dave Franklin, and Mr. Jim Sutton and
Mr. Blackburn that lived around close to us and dey all had slaves.
Dey was all wid the South, but dey was a lot of dem Pin Indians all up
on de Illinois River and dey was wid de North and dey taken it out on
de slave owners a lot before de War and during it too.
Dey would come in de night and hamstring de horses and maybe set fire
to de barn, and two of 'em named Joab Scarrel and Tom Starr killed my
pappy one night just before de War broke out.
I don't know what dey done it for, only to be mean, and I guess they
was drunk.
Them Pins was after Master all de time for a while at de first of de
War, and he was afraid to ride into Fort Smith much. Dey come to de
house one time when he was gone to Fort Smith and us children told dem
he was at Honey Springs, but they knowed better and when he got home
he said somebody shot at him and bushwhacked him all the way from
Wilson's Rock to dem Wildhorse Mountains, but he run his horse like de
devil was setting on his tail and dey never did hit him. He never seen
them neither. We told him 'bout de Pins coming for him and he just
laughed.
When de War come old Master seen he was going into trouble and he sold
off most of de slaves. In de second year of de War he sold my mammy
and my aunt dat was Uncle Joe's wife and my two brothers and my little
sister. Mammy went to a mean old man named Peper Goodman and he took
her off down de river, and pretty soon Mistress tell me she died
'cause she can't stand de rough treatment.
When Mammy went old Mistress took me to de Big House to help her, and
she was kind to me like I was part of her own family. I never forget
when they sold off some more negroes at de same time, too, and put dem
all in a pen for de trader to come and look at.
He never come until the next day, so dey had to sleep in dat pen in a
pile like hogs.
It wasn't my Master done dat. He done already sold 'em to a man and it
was dat man was waiting for de trader. It made my Master mad, but dey
didn't belong to him no more and he couldn't say nothing.
The man put dem on a block and sold 'em to a man dat had come in on a
steamboat, and he took dem off on it when de freshet come down and de
boat could go back to Fort Smith. It was tied up at de dock at
Webber's Falls about a week and we went down and talked to my aunt and
brothers and sister. De brothers was Sam and Eli. Old Mistress cried
jest like any of de rest of us when de boat pull out with dem on it.
Pretty soon all de young Cherokee menfolks all gone off to de War, and
de Pins was riding 'round all de time, and it aint safe to be in dat
part around Webber's Falls, so old Master take us all to Fort Smith
where they was a lot of Confederate soldiers.
We camp at dat place a while and old Mistress stay in de town wid some
kinfolks. Den old Master get three wagons and ox teams and take us all
way down on Red River in de Choctaw Nation.
We went by Webber's Falls and filled de wagons. We left de furniture
and only took grub and tools and bedding and clothes, 'cause they
wasn't very big wagons and was only single-yoke.
We went on a place in de Red River bottoms close to Shawneetown and
not far from de place where all de wagons crossed over to go into
Texas. We was at dat place two years and made two little crops.
One night a runaway negro come across from Texas and he had de blood
hounds after him. His britches was all muddy and tore where de hounds
had cut him up in de legs when he clumb a tree in de bottoms. He come
to our house and Mistress said for us negroes to give him something to
eat and we did.
Then up come de man from Texas with de hounds and wid him was young
Mr. Joe Vann and my uncle that belong to young Joe. Dey called young
Mr. Joe "Little Joe Vann" even after he was grown on account of when
he was a little boy before his pappy was killed. His pappy was old
Captain "Rich Joe" Vann, and he been dead ever since long before de
War. My uncle belong to old Captain Joe nearly all his life.
Mistress try to get de man to tell her who de negro belong to so she
can buy him, but de man say he can't sell him and he take him on back
to Texas wid a chain around his two ankles. Dat was one poor negro dat
never got away to de North, and I was sorry for him 'cause I know he
must have had a mean master, but none of us Sheppard negroes, I mean
the grown ones, tried to git away.
I never seen any fighting in de War, but I seen soldiers in de South
army doing a lot of blacksmithing 'long side de road one day. Dey was
fixing wagons and shoeing horses.
After de War was over, old Master tell me I am free but he will look
out after me 'cause I am just a little negro and I aint got no sense.
I know he is right, too.
Well, I go ahead and make me a crop of corn all by myself and then I
don't know what to do wid it. I was afraid I would get cheated out of
it 'cause I can't figure and read, so I tell old Master about it and
he bought it off'n me.
We never had no school in slavery and it was agin the law for anybody
to even show a negro de letters and figures, so no Cherokee slave
could read.
We all come back to de old place and find de negro cabins and barns
burned down and de fences all gone and de field in crab grass and
cockleburrs. But de Big House aint hurt 'cepting it need a new roof.
De furniture is all gone, and some said de soldiers burned it up for
firewood. Some officers stayed in de house for a while and tore
everything up or took it off.
Master give me over to de National Freedmen's Bureau and I was bound
out to a Cherokee woman name Lizzie McGee. Then one day one of my
uncles named Wash Sheppard come and tried to git me to go live wid
him. He say he wanted to git de family all together agin.
He had run off after he was sold and joined de North army and
discharged at Fort Scott in Kansas, and he said lots of freedmen was
living close to each other up by Coffeyville in de Coo-ee-scoo-ee
District.
I wouldn't go, so he sent Isaac and Joe Vann dat had been two of old
Captain Joe's negroes to talk to me. Isaac had been Young Joe's
driver, and he told me all about how rich Master Joe was and how he
would look after us negroes. Dey kept after me 'bout a year, but I
didn't go anyways.
But later on I got a freedman's allotment up in dat part close to
Coffeyville, and I lived in Coffeyville a while but I didn't like it
in Kansas.
I lost my land trying to live honest and pay my debts. I raised eleven
children just on de sweat of my hands and none of dem ever tasted
anything dat was stole.
When I left Mrs. McGee's I worked about three years for Mr. Sterling
Scott and Mr. Roddy Reese. Mr. Reese had a big flock of peafowls dat
had belonged to Mr. Scott and I had to take care of dem.
Whitefolks, I would have to tromp seven miles to Mr. Scott's house two
or three times a week to bring back some old peafowl dat had got out
and gone back to de old place!
Poor old Master and Mistress only lived a few years after de War.
Master went plumb blind after he move back to Webber's Falls and so he
move up on de Illinois River 'bout three miles from de Arkansas, and
there old Mistress take de white swelling and die and den he die
pretty soon. I went to see dem lots of times and they was always glad
to see me.
I would stay around about a week and help 'em, and dey would try to
git me to take something but I never would. Dey didn't have much and
couldn't make anymore and dem so old. Old Mistress had inherited some
property from her pappy and dey had de slave money and when dey turned
everything into good money after de War dat stuff only come to about
six thousand dollars in good money, she told me. Dat just about lasted
'em through until dey died, I reckon.
By and by I married Nancy Hildebrand what lived on Greenleaf Creek,
'bout four miles northwest of Gore. She had belonged to Joe Hildebrand
and he was kin to old Steve Hildebrand dat owned de mill on Flint
Creek up in de Going Snake District. She was raised up at dat mill,
but she was borned in Tennessee before dey come out to de Nation. Her
master was white but he had married into de Nation and so she got a
freedmen's allotment too. She had some land close to Catoosa and some
down on Greenleaf Creek.
We was married at my home in Coffeyville, and she bore me eleven
children and then went on to her reward. A long time ago I came to
live wid my daughter Emma here at dis place, but my wife just died
last year. She was eighty three.
I reckon I wasn't cut out on de church pattern, but I raised my
children right. We never had no church in slavery, and no schooling,
and you had better not be caught wid a book in your hand even, so I
never did go to church hardly any.
Wife belong to de church and all de children too, and I think all
should look after saving their souls so as to drive de nail in, and
den go about de earth spreading kindness and hoeing de row clean so as
to clinch dat nail and make dem safe for Glory.
Of course I hear about Abraham Lincoln and he was a great man, but I
was told mostly by my children when dey come home from school about
him. I always think of my old Master as de one dat freed me, and
anyways Abraham Lincoln and none of his North people didn't look after
me and buy my crop right after I was free like old Master did. Dat was
de time dat was de hardest and everything was dark and confusion.
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
[Date stamp: AUG 16 1937]
ANDREW SIMMS
Age 80
Sapulpa, Okla.
My parents come over on a slave ship from Africa about twenty year
before I was born on the William Driver plantation down in Florida. My
folks didn't know each other in Africa but my old Mammy told me she
was captured by Negro slave hunters over there and brought to some
coast town where the white buyers took her and carried her to America.
She was kinder a young gal then and was sold to some white folks when
the boat landed here. Dunno who they was. The same thing happen to my
pappy. Must have been about the same time from the way they tells it.
Maybe they was on the [HW: same] boat, I dunno.
They was traded around and then mammy was sold to William Driver. The
plantation was down in Florida. Another white folks had a plantation
close by. Mister Simms was the owner. Bill Simms--that's the name
pappy kept after the War.
Somehow or other mammy and pappy meets 'round the place and the first
thing happens they is in love. That's what mammy say. And the next
thing happen is me. They didn't get married. The Master's say it is
alright for them to have a baby. They never gets married, even after
the War. Just jumped the broomstick and goes to living with somebody
else I reckon.
Then when I was four year old along come the War and Master Driver
takes up his slaves and leaves the Florida country and goes way out to
Texas. Mammy goes along, I goes along, all the children goes along. I
don't remember nothing about the trip but I hears mammy talk about it
when I gets older.
Texas, that was the place, down near Fairfield. That's where I learn
to do the chores. But the work was easy for the Master was kind as old
Mammy herself and he never give me no hard jobs that would wear me
down. All the slaves on our place was treated good. All the time.
They didn't whip. The Master feeds all the slaves on good clean foods
and lean meats so's they be strong and healthy.
Master Driver had four children, Mary, Julia, Frank and George. Every
one of them children kind and good just the old Master. They was never
mean and could I find some of 'em now hard times would leave me on the
run! They'd help this old man get catched up on his eating!
Makes me think of the old song we use to sing:
Don't mind working from Sun to Sun,
Iffen you give me my dinner--
When the dinner time comes!
Nowadays I gets me something to eat when I can catch it. The trouble
is sometimes I don't catch! But that ain't telling about the slave
days.
In them times it was mostly the overseers and the drivers who was the
mean ones. They caused all the misery. There was other whitefolks
caused troubles too. Sneak around where there was lots of the black
children on the plantation and steal them. Take them poor children
away off and sell them.
There wasn't any Sunday Schooling. There was no place to learn to read
and write--no big brick schools like they is now. The old Master say
we can teach ourselves but we can't do it. Old Elam Bowman owned the
place next door to Mister Driver. If he catch his slaves toying with
the pencil, why, he cut off one of their fingers. Then I reckon they
lost interest in education and get their mind back on the hoe and plow
like he say for them to do.
I didn't see no fighting during of the War. If they was any Yankees
soldiering around the country I don't remember nothing of it.
Long time after the War is over, about 1885, I meets a gal named
Angeline. We courts pretty fast and gets married. The wedding was a
sure enough affair with the preacher saying the words just like the
whitefolks marriage. We is sure married.
The best thing we do after that is raise us a family. One of them old
fashioned families. Big 'uns! Seventeen children does we have and
twelve of them still living. Wants to know they names? I ain't never
forgets a one! There was Lucy, Bill, Ebbie, Cora, Minnie, George,
Frank, Kizzie, Necie, Andrew, Joe, Sammie, David, Fannie, Jacob, Bob
and Myrtle.
All good children. Just like their old pappy who's tried to care for
'em just like the old Master takes care of their old daddy when he was
a boy on that plantation down Texas way.
When the age comes on a man I reckon religion gets kind of meanful.
Thinks about it more'n when he's young and busy in the fields. I
believes in the Bible and what it says to do. Some of the Colored
folks takes to the voodoo. I don't believe in it. Neither does I
believe in the fortune telling or charms. I aims to live by the Bible
and leave the rabbit foots alone!
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
10-19-38
718 words
LIZA SMITH
Age 91
Muskogee, Oklahoma
Both my mammy and pappy was brought from Africa on a slave boat and
sold on de Richmond (Va.) slave market. What year dey come over I
don't know. My mammy was Jane Mason, belonging to Frank Mason; pappy
was Frank Smith, belonging to a master wid de same name. I mean, my
pappy took his Master's name, and den after my folks married mammy
took de name of Smith, but she stayed on wid de Masons and never did
belong to my pappy's master. Den, after Frank Mason took all his
slaves out of de Virginia county, mammy met up wid another man, Ben
Humphries, and married him.
In Richmond, dat's where I was born, 'bout 1847, de Master said; and
dat make me more dan 90-year old dis good year. I had two brothers
named Webb and Norman, a half-brother Charley, and two half-sisters,
Mealey and Ann. Me, I was born a slave and so was my son. His father,
Toney, was one of de Mason slave boys; de Master said I was 'bout
13-year old when de boy was born.
Frank Mason was a young man when de War started, living wid his
mother. Dey had lots of slaves, maybe a hundred, and dey always try to
take good care of 'em; even after de War was over he worried 'bout
trying to get us settled so's we wouldn't starve. De Master had
overseer, but dere was no whuppings.
All de way from Richmond to a place dey call Waco, Texas, we traveled
by ox-wagon and boats, and den de Master figures we all be better off
over in Arkansas and goes to Pine Bluff.
What wid all de running 'round de slaves was kept clean and always wid
plenty to eat and good clothes to wear. De Master was a plenty rich
man and done what his mother, Mrs. Betsy Mason, told him when we all
left de Big Mansion, way back dere in Richmond. De Mistress said,
"Frank, you watch over dem Negroes cause dey's good men and women;
keep dem clean!" Dat's what he done, up until we was freed, and den
times was so hard nobody wanted us many Negroes around, and de work
was scarce, too. Hard times! Folks don't know what hard times is.
When a Negro get sick de master would send out for herbs and roots.
Den one of de slaves who knew how to cook and mix 'em up for medicine
use would give de doses. All de men and women wore charms, something
like beads, and if dey was any good or not I don't know, but we didn't
have no bad diseases like after dey set us free.
I was at Pine Bluff when de Yankees was shooting all over de place. De
fighting got so hot we all had to leave; dat's the way it was all de
time for us during de War--running away to some place or de next
place, and we was all glad when it stopped and we could settle down in
a place.
We was back at Waco when de peace come, but Master Frank was away from
home when dat happen. It was on a Sunday when he got back and called
all de slaves up in de yard and counted all of dem, young and old.
The first thing he said was, "You men and women is all free! I'm going
back to my own mammy in old Virginia, but I ain't going back until all
de old people is settled in cabins and de young folks fix up wid
tents!"
Den he kinder stopped talking. Seem now like he was too excited to
talk, or maybe he was feeling bad and worried 'bout what he going to
do wid all of us. Pretty soon he said, "You men and women, can't none
of you tell anybody I ain't always been a good master. Old folks, have
I ever treated you mean?" He asked. Everybody shout, "No, sir!" And
Master Frank smiled; den he told us he was going 'round and find
places for us to live.
He went to see Jim Tinsley, who owned some slaves, about keeping us.
Tinsley said he had cabins and could fix up tents for extra ones, if
his own Negroes was willing to share up with us. Dat was the way it
worked out. We stayed on dere for a while, but times was so hard we
finally get dirty and ragged like all de Tinsley Negroes. But Master
Frank figure he done the best he could for us.
After he go back to Virginia we never hear no more of him, but every
day I still pray if he has any folks in Richmond dey will find me
someway before I die. Is dere someway I could find dem, you s'pose?
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
[Date Stamp: Aug 12 1937]
LOU SMITH
Age 83 yrs.
Platter, Okla.
Sho', I remembers de slavery days! I was a little gal but I can tell
you lots of things about dem days. My job was nussing de younguns. I
took keer of them from daylight to dark. I'd have to sing them to
sleep too. I'd sing:
"By-lo Baby Bunting
Daddy's gone a-hunting
To get a rabbit skin
To wrap Baby Bunting in."
Sometimes I'd sing:
"Rock-a-bye baby, in a tree top
When de wind blows your cradle'll rock.
When de bough breaks de crad'll fall
Down comes baby cradle'n all."
My father was Jackson Longacre and he was born in Mississippi. My
mother, Caroline, was born in South Carolina. Both of them was born
slaves. My father belonged to Huriah Longacre. He had a big plantation
and lots of niggers. He put up a lot of his slaves as security on a
debt and he took sick and died so they put them all on de block and
sold them. My father and his mother (my grandma) was sold together. My
old Mistress bought my grandmother and old Mistress' sister bought my
grandma's sister. These white women agreed that they would never go
off so far that the two slave women couldn't see each other. They
allus kept this promise. A Mr. Covington offered old Master $700 for
me when I was about ten years old, but he wouldn't sell me. He didn't
need to for he was rich as cream and my, how good he was to us.
Young Master married Miss Jo Arnold and old Master sent me and my
mother over to live with them. I was small when I was took out of old
man McWilliams' yard. It was his wife that bought my grandmother and
my father. My mother's folks had always belonged to his family. They
all moved to Texas and we all lived there until after the surrender.
Miss Jo wasn't a good Mistress and mother and me wasn't happy. When
young Master was there he made her treat us good but when he was gone
she made our lives a misery to us. She was what we called a
"low-brow." She never had been used to slaves and she treated us like
dogs. She said us kids didn't need to wear any clothes and one day she
told us we could jest take'em off as it cost too much to clothe us. I
was jest a little child but I knowed I oughten to go without my
clothes. We wore little enough as it was. In summer we just wore one
garment, a sort of slip without any sleeves. Well, anyway she made me
take off my clothes and I just crept off and cried. Purty soon young
Master come home.
He wanted to know what on earth I was doing without my dress on. I
told him, and my goodness, but he raised the roof. He told her if she
didn't treat us better he was going to take us back to old Master. I
never did have any more good times 'cepting when I'd get to go to
visit at old Master's. None of our family could be sold and that was
why old Master just loaned us to young Master. When old Master died,
dey put all our names in a hat and all the chilluns draw out a name.
This was done to 'vide us niggers satisfactory. Young Master drawed my
mother's name and they all agreed that I should go with her, so back
we went to Miss Jo. She wouldn't feed us niggers. She'd make me set in
a corner like a little dog. I got so hungry and howled so loud they
had to feed me. When the surrender come, I was eleven years old, and
they told us we was free. I ran off and hid in the plum orchard and I
said over'n over, "I'se free, I'se free; I ain't never going back to
Miss Jo." My mother come out and got me and in a few days my father
came and lived with us. He worked for young Master and the crops was
divided with him. Miss Jo died and we lived on there. My mother took
over the charge of the house and the chillun for young Master and we
was all purty happy after that.
They was a white man come into our settlement and bought a plantation
and some slaves. My, but he treated them bad. He owned a boy about
fifteen years old. One day he sent him on a errand. On the way home he
got off his mule and set down in the shade of a tree to rest. He fell
asleep and the mule went home. When he woke up he was scared to go
home and he stayed out in de woods for several days. Finally they
caught him and took him home and his master beat him nearly to death.
He then dug a hole and put him in it and piled corn shucks all around
him. This nearly killed him 'cause his body was cut up so with the
whip. One of the niggers slipped off and went to the jining plantation
and told about the way the boy was being treated and a bunch of white
men came over and made him take the child out and doctor his wounds.
This man lived there about ten years and he was so mean to his slaves
'til all the white men round who owned niggers finally went to him and
told him they would just give him so long to sell out and leave. They
made him sell his slaves to people there in the community, and he went
back north.
My mother told me that he owned a woman who was the mother of several
chillun and when her babies would get about a year or two of age he'd
sell them and it would break her heart. She never got to keep them.
When her fourth baby was born and was about two months old she just
studied all the time about how she would have to give it up and one
day she said, "I just decided I'm not going to let old Master sell
this baby; he just ain't going to do it." She got up and give it
something out of a bottle and purty soon it was dead. 'Course didn't
nobody tell on her or he'd of beat her nearly to death. There wasn't
many folks that was mean to their slaves.
Old Master's boys played with the nigger boys all the time. They'd go
swimming, fishing and hunting together. One of his boys name was
Robert but everybody called him Bud. They all would catch rabbits and
mark them and turn them loose. One day a boy come along with a rabbit
he had caught in a trap. Old Master's boy noticed that it had Bud's
mark on it and they made him turn it loose.
Old Master was his own overseer, but my daddy was the overlooker. He
was purty hard on them too, as they had to work just like they never
got tired. The women had to do housework, spinning, sewing and work in
the fields too. My mother was housewoman and she could keep herself
looking nice. My, she went around with her hair and clothes all
Jenny-Lynned-up all the time until we went to live with Miss Jo. She
took all the spirit out of poor mother and me too.
I remember she allus kept our cabin as clean and neat as a pin. When
other niggers come to visit her they would say, "My you are Buckry
Niggers (meaning we tried to live like white folks)."
I love to think of when we lived with old Master. We had a good time.
Our cabin was nice and had a chimbley in it. Mother would cook and
serve our breakfast at home every morning and dinner and supper on
Sundays. We'd have biscuit every Sunday morning for our breakfast.
That was something to look forward to.
We all went to church every Sunday. We would go to the white folks
church in the morning and to our church in the evening. Bill
McWilliams, old Master's oldest boy, didn't take much stock in church.
He owned a nigger named Bird, who preached for us. Bill said, "Bird,
you can't preach, you can't read, how on earth can you get a text out
of the Bible when you can't even read? How'n hell can a man preach
that don't know nothing?" Bird told him the Lord had called him to
preach and he'd put the things in his mouth that he ought to say. One
night Bill went to church and Bird preached the hair-raisingest
sermon you ever heard. Bill told him all right to go and preach, and
he gave Bird a horse and set him free to go anywhere he wanted to and
preach.
Old Master and old Mistress lived in grand style. Bob was the driver
of their carriage. My, but he was always slick and shiny. He'd set up
in front with his white shirt and black clothes. He looked like a
black martin (bird) with a white breast. The nurse set in the back
with the chillun. Old Master and Mistress set together in the front
seat.
Old Master and Mistress would come down to the quarters to eat
Christmas dinners sometimes and also birthday dinners. It was sho' a
big day when they done that. They'd eat first, and the niggers would
sing and dance to entertain them. Old Master would walk 'round through
the quarters talking to the ones that was sick or too old to work. He
was awful kind. I never knowed him to whip much. Once he whipped a
woman for stealing. She and mother had to spin and weave. She couldn't
or didn't work as fast as Ma and wouldn't have as much to show for her
days work. She'd steal hanks of Ma's thread so she couldn't do more
work than she did. She'd also steal old Master's tobacco. He caught up
with her and whipped her.
I never saw any niggers on the block but I remember once they had a
sale in town and I seen them pass our house in gangs, the little ones
in wagons and others walking. I've seen slaves who run away from their
masters and they'd have to work in the field with a big ball and chain
on their leg. They'd hoe out to the end of the chain and then drag it
up a piece and hoe on to the end of the row.
Times was awful hard during the War. We actually suffered for some
salt. We'd go to the smoke house where meat had been salted down for
years, dig a hole in the ground and fill it with water. After it would
stand for a while we'd dip the water up carefully and strain it and
cook our food in it. We parched corn and meal for coffee. We used
syrup for sugar. Some folks parched okra for coffee. When the War was
over you'd see men, women and chillun walk out of their cabins with a
bundle under their arms. All going by in droves, just going nowhere in
particular. My mother and father didn't join them; we stayed on at the
plantation. I run off and got married when I was twenty. Ma never did
want me to get married. My husband died five years ago. I never had no
chillun.
I reckon I'm a mite superstitious. If a man comes to your house first
on New Years you will have good luck; if a woman is your first visitor
you'll have bad luck. When I was a young woman I knowed I'd be left
alone in my old age. I seen it in my sleep. I dreamed I spit every
tooth in my head right out in my hand and something tell me I would be
a widow. That's a bad thing to dream about, losing your teeth.
Once my sister was at my house. She had a little baby and we was
setting on the porch. They was a big pine tree in front of the house,
and we seen something that looked like a big bird light in the tree.
She begun to cry and say that's a sign my baby is going to die. Sho'
nuff it just lived two weeks. Another time a big owl lit in a tree
near a house and we heard it holler. The baby died that night. It was
already sick, we's setting up with it.
I don't know where they's hants or not but I'se sho heard things I
couldn't see.
We allus has made our own medicines. We used herbs and roots. If
you'll take poke root and cut it in small pieces and string it and put
it 'round a baby's neck it will cut teeth easy. A tea made out of dog
fennel or corn shucks will cure chills and malaria. It'll make 'em
throw up. We used to take button snake root, black snake root, chips
of anvil iron and whiskey and make a tonic to cure consumption. It
would cure it too.
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
10-13-37
[Date stamp: NOV 5 1937]
JAMES SOUTHALL
Age 82 years,
Oklahoma City, Okla.
I was born in Clarksville, Tenn. My father was Wesley and my mother
was Hagar Southall. Our owner was Dr. John Southall, an old man.
Father always belonged to him but he bought my mother when she was a
young girl and raised her. She never knew anything 'bout her people
but my father's mother lived with us in de quarter's at Master
Southall's. Master John never sold any of his slaves.
We was known as "Free Niggers." Master said he didn't believe it was
right to own human beings just because dey was black, and he freed all
his slaves long before de War. He give 'em all freedom papers and told
dem dat dey was as free as he was and could go anywhere dey wanted.
Dey didn't have no where to go so we all stayed on wid him. It was
nice though to know we could go where we pleased 'thout having to get
a pass and could come back when we pleased even if we didn't take
advantage of it.
He told his slaves dat dey could stay on at his farm but dey would
have to work and make a living for deyselves and families. Old Master
managed de farm and bought all de food and clothes for us all.
Everybody had to work, but dey had a good time.
We had good clothes, plenty of food and good cabins. We had what was
known as Georgia bedsteads. Dey was wooden bedsteads wid holes bored
in de side pieces and in de foot and head-boards. Ropes was laced back
and forth across and this took de place of both slats and springs. De
ropes would git loose and we had what was called a "following-pin" to
tighten 'em wid. We'd take a block of wood wid a notch in it and catch
de rope and hold it till de following-pin could be driven in and den
we'd twist de ropes tight again. We had grass or cotton beds and we
slept good, too.
We had tin plates but no knives or forks so we et with our fingers.
Old Master was a doctor and we had good attention when we was sick. We
had no wish to take advantage of our freedom for we was a lot better
off even than we is now and we knowed it. We never had to worry about
anything.
De quarters was about a half mile from de "Big House" as we called
Master John's house. It really wasn't such a big house as it had only
four or five rooms in it. It was a common boxed house, painted white
and wid a long gallery across de front. Maybe it was de gallery dat
made it look so big to us. We liked to set on de steps at night and
listen to Master John talk and to hear old Mistress and de girls sing.
Sometimes we'd join in wid dem and fairly make de woods ring.
Everybody thought dey was crazy to let us have so much freedom but dey
wasn't nothing any of us black folks wouldn't a-done for that family.
He never employed any overseers as he done his own overseeing. He'd
tell de older hands what he wanted done and dey would see it was done.
We was never punished. Just iffen dey didn't work dey didn't have
nothing to eat and wear and de hands what did work wouldn't divide wid
'em iffen dey didn't work. Old Master sho' was wise fer he knowed
iffen we was ever set free dat we would have to work and he sure
didn't bide no laziness in his hands. Dey got up 'bout four o'clock in
de morning and was at work as soon as dey could see. Dey would work
and sing as happy as you please.
We used to hear stories 'bout how slaves was punished but we never saw
any of it. Dey would punish 'em by whupping 'em or by making 'em stand
on one foot for a long time, tie 'em up by de thumbs as high as dey
could reach and by making 'em do hard tasks and by going without food
for two-three days.
Niggers was very religious and dey had church often. Dey would annoy
de white folks wid shouting and singing and praying and dey would take
cooking pots and put over dey mouths so de white folks couldn't hear
'em. Dey would dig holes in de ground too, and lie down when dey
prayed.
Old Master let us have church in de homes. We had prayer-meeting every
Wednesday night. All our cullud preachers could read de Bible. He let
dem teach us how to read iffen we wanted to learn.
In de evening when we was through wid our work dey would gather at one
of de cabins and visit and sing or dance. We'd pop corn, eat walnuts,
peanuts, hickory nuts, and tell ghost stories. We didn't have any
music instruments so de music we danced by wasn't so very good.
Everybody sang and one or two would beat on tin pans or beat bones
together.
Us boys played marbles. I got to be a professional. I could hit de
middler ever time. We made a square and put a marble in each corner
and one in de middle and got off several feet from de ring and shot at
de marbles. Iffen you hit de middler you got de game. I could beat 'em
all.
Old Master kept us through de War. We saw Yankee soldiers come through
in droves lak Coxsey's Army. We wasn't afraid for ourselves but we was
afraid dey would catch old Master or one of de boys when dey would
come home on a furlough. We'd hep 'em git away and just swear dat dey
hadn't been home a-tall.
After de war we stayed until old Master died. It broke us all up for
we knowed we had lost de best friend dat we ever had or ever would
have. He was a sort of father to all of us. Old Mistress went to live
with her daughter and we started wandering 'round. Some folks from de
North come down and made de cullud folks move on. I guess dey was
afraid dat we'd hep our masters rebuild dey homes again. We lived in a
sort of bondage for a long time.
De white folks in de South as well as de cullud folks lost de best
friend dey had when Abe Lincoln was killed. He was God's man and it
was a great loss when he died.
God created us all free and equal. Somewhere along de road we lost
out.
Cullud folks would have been better off iffen dey had been left alone
in Africa. We'd a-had better opportunities. We should have some
compensation fer what we have suffered. Yes, we could be sent back and
we'd like it if dey would help us to get started out again. Dat's
where our forefathers come from.
I learned a long time ago dat dey was nothing to charms. How could a
rabbit's foot bring me good luck? De Bible teaches me better'n dat. I
believes in dreams though. I've seen de end of time in my dreams. Saw
de great trouble we going through right now, years ago in a dream.
It's clear in my mind how de world is coming to a end.
I believe all Christians should all join up together as dat makes 'em
stronger. I believe in praying fer what we want and need. I'm a
licensed preacher in de Baptist church. I've been a member for forty
years but have just been a licensed preacher about ten years.
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
BEAUREGARD TENNEYSON
Age 87 yrs.
West Tulsa, Okla.
My mother and father just about stocked Jess Tenneyson's plantation
with slaves. That's a fact. The old folks had one big
family--twenty-three Children was the number. With the old folks that
make twenty-five (there were only five more slaves), so I reckon they
done mighty well by Master Jess.
The Master done well by them, too. Master Jess and Mistress Lula was
Christian peoples. They raised their two sons, Henry and George, the
same way.
There was so many of us children I don't remember all the names. Three
of the boys was named after good southern gentlemen who soldiered in
the War. Price, Lee and Beaugard. Beaugard is me. Proud of that name
just like I'm proud of the Master's name.
My folks named Patrick and Harriett. Mother worked round the house And
father was the field boss. They was close by the Master all the time.
The plantation was down in Craig County, Texas. Nine hundred acre it
was. They raise everything, but mostly corn and cotton. Big times when
come the harvest. Master fix up a cotton gin right on the place. It
was an old-fashioned press. Six horses run it with two boys tromping
down the cotton with their feets.
In the fall time was the best of all. Come cotton picking time, all
the master from miles around send in their best pickers--and how
they'd work, sometimes pick the whole crop in one day! The one who
picked the most win a prize. Then come noon and the big feast, and at
night come the dancing.
Something like that when the corn was ready. All the folks have the
biggest time. Log rollings. Clearing the new ground for planting.
Cutting the trees, burning the bresh, making ready for the plow. The
best worker wins hisself a prize at these log rollings, too.
Them kind of good times makes me think of Christmas. Didn't have no
Christmas tree, but they set up a long pine table in the house and
that plank table was covered with presents and none of the Negroes was
ever forgot on that day.
Master Jess didn't work his slaves like other white folks done. Wasn't
no four o'clock wake-up horns and the field work started at seven
o'clock. Quitting time was five o'clock--just about union hours
nowadays. The Master believed in plenty of rest for the slaves and
they work better that way, too.
One of my brother took care of the Master's horse while on the
plantation. When the Master join in with rebels that horse went along.
So did brother. Master need them both and my brother mighty pleased
when he get to go.
When Master come back from the War and tell us that brother is dead,
he said brother was the best boy in all the army.
The Tenneyson slaves wasn't bothered with patrollers, neither the
Klan. The Master said we was all good Negroes--nobody going to bother
a good Negro.
We was taught to work and have good manners. And to be honest. Just
doing them three things will keep anybody out of trouble.
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
WILLIAM WALTERS
Age 85 yrs.
Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Mammy Ann (that was my mother) was owned by Mistress Betsy, and lived
on the Bradford plantation in Relsford County, Tennessee, when I was
born in 1852.
My daddy, Jim Walters, then lived in Nashville, where my mammy carried
me when she ran away from the Mistress after the Rebs and Yanks
started to fight. My daddy died in Nashville in 1875.
We were runaway slaves. The slipper-offers were often captured, but
Mammy Ann and her little boy William (that's me) escaped the sharp
eyes of the patrollers and found refuge with a family of northern
symphatizers living in Nashville.
Nashville was a fort town, filled with trenches and barricades. Right
across the road from where we stayed was a vacant block used by the
Rebs as an emergency place for treating the wounded.
I remember the boom of cannons one whole day, and I heard the rumble
of army wagons as they crossed through the town. But there was nothing
to see as the fog of powder smoke became thicker with every blast of
Sesesh cannon.
When the smoke fog cleared away I watched the wounded being carried to
the clearing across the road--fighting men with arms shot off, legs
gone, faces blood smeared--some of them just laying there cussing God
and Man with their dying breath!
Those were awful times. Yet I have heard many of the older Negroes say
the old days were better.
Such talk always seemed to me but an expression of sentiment for some
good old master, or else the older Negroes were just too handicapped
with ignorance to recognize the benefits of liberty or the
opportunities of freedom.
But I've always been proud of my freedom, and proud of my old mother
who faced death for her freedom and mine when she escaped from the
Bradford plantation a long time before freedom came to the Negro race
as a whole.
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
570 words
10-19-1938
MARY FRANCES WEBB
Grand daughter of Sarah Vest, aged 92, (deceased)
McAlester, Okla.
I've heard my grandmother tell a lot of her experiences during
slavery. She remembered things well as she was a grown woman at the
time of the War of the Rebellion.
Her home was at Sedalia, Mo., and her owner was Baxter West, a
prominent farmer and politician. He was very kind and good to his
slaves. He provided them with plenty of food and good clothes. He
would go to town and buy six or eight bolts of cloth at a time and the
women could pick out two dresses apiece off it. These would be their
dresses for dressing up. They wove the cloth for their everyday
clothes.
The men wore jeans suits in winter. He bought shoes for all his
slaves, young and old. He had about twenty slaves counting the
children.
My grandmother was a field hand. She plowed and hoed the crops in the
summer and spring, and in the winter she sawed and cut cord wood just
like a man. She said it didn't hurt her as she was as strong as an ox.
She could spin and weave and sew. She helped make all the cloth for
their clothes and in the spring one of the jobs for the women was to
weave hats for the men. They used oat-straw, grass, and cane which had
been split and dried and soaked in hot water until it was pliant, and
they wove it into hats. The women wore a cloth tied around their head.
They didn't have many matches so they always kept a log heap burning
to keep a fire. It was a common thing for a neighbor to come in to
borrow a coal of fire as their fire had died out.
On wash days all the neighbors would send several of their women to
the creek to do the family wash. They all had a regular picnic of it
as they would wash and spread the clothes on the bushes and low
branches of the trees to dry. They would get to spend the day
together.
They had no tubs or wash boards. They had a large flat block of wood
and a wooden paddle. They'd spread the wet garment on the block,
spread soap on it and paddle the garment till it was clean. They would
rinse the clothes in the creek. Their soap was made from lye, dripped
from ashes, and meat scraps.
The slaves had no lamps in their cabins. In winter they would pile
wood on the fire in their fireplace and have the light from the fire.
The colored men went with their master to the army. They made regular
soldiers and endured the same hardships that the white soldiers did.
They told of one battle when so many men were killed that a little
stream seemed to be running pure blood as the water was so bloody.
After the war the slaves returned home with their masters and some of
the older ones stayed on with them and helped them to rebuild their
farms. None of them seemed to think it strange that they had been
fighting on the wrong side in the army as they were following their
white folks.
Those who stayed with their old master were taught to read and write
and were taught to handle their own business and to help themselves in
every way possible to take their place in life.
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
10-14-37
[Date stamp: NOV 5 1937]
EASTER WELLS
Age 83
Colbert, Okla.
I was born in Arkansas, in 1854, but we moved to Texas in 1855. I've
heard 'em tell about de trip to Texas. De grown folks rode in wagons
and carts but de chaps all walked dat was big enuff. De men walked and
toted their guns and hunted all de way. Dey had plenty of fresh game
to eat.
My mother's name was Nellie Bell. I had one sister, Liza. I never saw
my father; in fact, I never heard my mammy say anything about him and
I don't guess I ever asked her anything about him for I never thought
anything about not having a father. I guess he belonged to another
family and when we moved away he was left behind and he didn't try to
find us after de War.
My mammy and my sister and me belonged to young Master Jason Bell. We
was his onliest slaves and as he wasn't married and lived at home wid
his parents we was worked and bossed by his father, Cap'n William Bell
and his wife, Miss Mary.
After we moved to Texas, old Master built a big double log house,
weather-boarded on de inside and out. It was painted white. Dey was a
long gallery clean across de front of de house and a big open hall
between de two front rooms. Dey was three rooms on each side of de
hall and a wide gallery across de back. De kitchen set back from de
house and dey was a board walk leading to it. Vines was planted 'round
de gallery and on each side of de walk in de summer time. De house was
on a hill and set back from de big road about a quarter of a mile and
dey was big oak and pine trees all 'round de yard. We had purty
flowers, too.
We had good quarters. Dey was log cabins, but de logs was peeled and
square-adzed and put together with white plaster and had shuttered
windows and pine floors. Our furniture was home made but it was good
and made our cabins comfortable.
Old Master give us our allowance of staple food and it had to run us,
too. We could raise our own gardens and in dat way we had purty plenty
to eat. Dey took good care of us sick or well and old Mistress was
awful good to us.
My mammy was de cook. I remember old Master had some purty strict
rules and one of 'em was iffen you burnt de bread you had to eat it.
One day mammy burnt de bread. She was awful busy and forgot it and it
burnt purty bad. She knowed dat old Master would be mad and she'd be
punished so she got some grub and her bonnet and she lit out. She hid
in de woods and cane brakes for two weeks and dey couldn't find her
either. One of de women slipped food out to her. Finally she come home
and old Master give her a whipping but he didn't hurt her none. He was
glad to git her back. She told us dat she could'a slipped off to de
North but she didn't want to leave us children. She was afraid young
Master would be mad and sell us and we'd a-had a hard time so she come
back. I don't know whether she ever burnt de bread any more or not.
Once one of de men got his 'lowance and he decided he'd have de meat
all cooked at once so he come to our cabin and got mammy to cook it
for him. She cooked it and he took it home. One day he was at work and
a dog got in and et de meat all up. He didn't have much food for de
rest of de week. He had to make out wid parched corn.
We all kept parched corn all de time and went 'round eating it. It was
good to fill you up iffen you was hungry and was nourishing, too.
When de niggers cooked in dere own cabins dey put de food in a sort of
tray or trough and everybody et together. Dey didn't have no dishes.
We allus ate at de Big House as mammy had to do de cooking for de
family.
I never had to work hard as old Master wanted us to grow up strong.
He'd have mammy boil Jerusalem Oak and make a tea for us to drink to
cure us of worms and we'd run races and get exercise so we would be
healthy.
Old Mistress and old Master had three children. Dey was two children
dead between Master Jason and Miss Jane. Dey was a little girl 'bout
my age, named Arline. We played together all de time. We used to set
on de steps at night and old Mistress would tell us about de stars.
She'd tell us and show us de Big Dipper, Little Dipper, Milky Way,
Ellen's Yard, Job's Coffin, and de Seven Sisters. I can show 'em to
you and tell you all about 'em yet.
I scared Arline and made her fall and break her leg twice. One time we
was on de porch after dark one night and I told her dat I heard
something and I made like I could see it and she couldn't so she got
scared and run and hung her toe in a crack and fell off de high porch
and broke her leg. Another time while de War was going on we was
dressed up in long dresses playing grown-ups. We had playhouses under
some big castor-bean bushes. We climbed up on de fence and jest for
fun I told her dat I seen some Yankees coming. She started to run and
got tangled up in her long dress and fell and broke her leg again. It
nigh broke my heart for I loved her and she loved me and she didn't
tell on me either time. I used to visit her after she was married and
we'd sure have a good visit talking 'bout de things we used to do. We
was separated when we was about fifteen and didn't see [HW: each]
other any more till we was both married and had children. I went to
visit her at Bryant, Brazos County, Texas and I ain't seen her since.
I don't know whether she is still living or not.
I 'members hearing a man say dat once he was a nigger trader. He'd buy
and trade or sell 'em like they was stock. He become a Christian and
never sold any more.
Our young Master went to de War and got wounded and come home and
died. Old Master den took full charge of us and when de War ended he
kept us because he said we didn't have no folks and he said as our
owner was dead we wasn't free. Mother died about a year after de War,
and some white folks took my sister but I was afraid to go. Old Master
told me iffen I left him he would cut my ears off end I'd starve and I
don't know what all he did tell me he'd do. I must a-been a fool but I
was afraid to try it.
I had so much work to do and I never did git to go anywhere. I reckon
he was afraid to let me go off de place for fear some one would tell
me what a fool I was, so I never did git to go anywhere but had to
work all de time. I was de only one to work and old Mistress and de
girls never had done no work and didn't know much about it. I had a
harder time den when we was slaves.
I got to wanting to see my sister so I made up my mind to run off. One
of old Master's motherless nephews lived with him and I got him to go
with me one night to the potato bank and I got me a lap full of
potatoes to eat so I wouldn't starve like old Master said I would. Dis
white boy went nearly to a house where some white folks lived. I went
to de house and told 'em I wanted to go to where my sister was and dey
let me stay fer a few days and sent me on to my sister.
I saw old Master lots of times after I run away but he wasn't mad at
me. I heard him tell de white folks dat I lived wid dat he raised me
and I sure wouldn't steal nor tell a lie. I used to steal brown sugar
lumps when mammy would be cooking but he didn't know 'bout dat.
On holidays we used to allus have big dinners, 'specially on
Christmas, and we allus had egg-nog.
We allus had hog-jowl and peas on New Years Day 'cause iffen you'd
have dat on New Years Day you'd have good luck all de year.
Iffen you have money on New Years' Day you will have money all de
year.
My husband, Lewis Wells, lived to be one-hundred and seven years old.
He died five years ago. He could see witches, spirits and ghosts but I
never could. Dere are a few things dat I've noticed and dey never
fail.
Dogs howling and scritch owls hollering is allus a warning. My mother
was sick and we didn't think she was much sick. A dog howled and
howled right outside de house. Old Master say, "Nellie gonna die."
Sure nuff she died dat night.
Another time a gentle old mule we had got after de children and run
'em to do house and den he lay down and wallow and wallow. One of our
children was dead 'fore a week.
One of our neighbors say his dog been gone 'bout a week. He was
walking and met de dog and it lay down and stretch out on de ground
and measure a grave wid his body. He made him git up and he went home
jest as fast as he could. When he got dere one of his children was
dead.
Iffen my left eye quiver I know I'm gwineter cry and iffen both my
eyes quiver I know I gwinter laugh till I cry. I don't like for my
eyes to quiver.
We has allus made our own medicine. Iffen we hadn't we never could
astood de chills and fevers. We made a tea out'n bitter weeds and
bathed in it to cure malaria. We also made bread pills and soaked 'em
in dis tea and swallowed 'em. After bathing in dis tea we'd go to bed
and kiver up and sweat de malaria out.
Horse mint and palm of crystal (Castor-bean) and bullnettle root
boiled together will make a cure fer swelling. Jest bathe de swollen
part in dis hot tea.
Anvil dust and apple vinegar will cure dropsy. One tea cup of anvil
dust to a quart of vinegar. Shake up well and bathe in it. It sure
will cure de worse kind of a case.
God worked through Abraham Lincoln and he answered de prayers of dem
dat was wearing de burden of slavery. We cullud folks all love and
honor Abraham Lincoln's memory and don't you think we ought to?
I love to hear good singing. My favorite songs are: "Am I A Soldier Of
The Cross", an "How Can I Live In Sin and Doubt My Savior's Love." I
belongs to de Baptist church.
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
Revision of story sent in 8-13-37.
JOHN WHITE
Age 121 years
Sand Springs, Okla.
Of all my Mammy's children I am the first born and the longest living.
The others all gone to join Mammy. She was named Mary White, the same
name as her Mistress, the wife of my first master, James White.
About my pappy. I never hear his name and I never see him, not even
when I was the least child around the old Master's place 'way back
there in Georgia more'n one-hundred twenty years ago!
Mammy try to make it clear to me about my daddy. She married like the
most of the slaves in them days.
He was a slave on another plantation. One day he come for to borrow
something from Master White. He sees a likely looking gal, and the way
it work out that gal was to be my Mammy. After that he got a paper
saying it was all right for him to be off his own plantation. He come
a'courting over to Master White's. After a while he talks with the
Master. Says he wants to marry the gal, Mary. The Master says it's all
right if it's all right with Mary and the other white folks. He finds
out it is and they makes ready for the wedding.
Mary says a preacher wedding is the best but Master say he can marry
them just as good. There wasn't no Bible, just an old Almanac. Master
White read something out of that. That's all and they was married. The
wedding was over!
Every night he gets a leave paper from his Master and come over to be
with his wife, Mary. The next morning he leaves her to work in the
fields. Then one night Mammy says he don't come home. The next night
is the same, and the next. From then on Mammy don't see him no
more--never find out what happen to my pappy.
When I was born Mammy named me John, John White. She tells me I was
the blackest 'white' boy she ever see. I stays with her till I was
eleven year old. The Master wrote down in the book when I was born,
April 10, 1816, and I know it's right. Mammy told me so, and Master
told me when I was eleven and he sold me to Sarah Davenport.
Mistress Sarah lived in Texas. Master White always selling and trading
to folks all over the country. I hates to leave on account of Mammy
and the good way Master White fared the slaves--they was good people.
Mammy cry but I has to go just the same. The tears are on my face a
long time after the leaving. I was hoping all the time to see Mammy
again, but that's the last time.
We travels and travels on the stage coach. Once we cross the Big River
(Mississippi) on the boat and pick up with the horses on the other
side. A new outfit and we rides some more. Seems like we going to wear
out all the horses before we gets to the place.
The Davenport plantation was way north of Linden, Texas, up in the Red
River country. That's where I stayed for thirty-eight year. There I
was drug through the hackles by the meanest master that ever lived.
The Mistress was the best white woman I ever knew but Master Presley
used his whip all the time, reason or no reason, and I got scars to
remember by!
I remembers the house. A heavy log house with a gallery clear across
the front. The kitchen was back of the house. I work in there and I
live in there. It wasn't built so good as the Master's house. The cold
winds in the winter go through the cracks between the logs like the
walls was somewheres else, and I shivers with the misery all the time.
The cooking got to be my job. The washing too. Washday come around
and I fills the tub with clothes. Puts the tub on my head and walks
half a mile to the spring where I washes the clothes. Sometimes I run
out of soap. Then I make ash soap right by the spring. I learns to be
careful about streaks in the clothes. I learns by the bull whip. One
day the Master finds a soapy streak in his shirt. Then he finds me.