I wasn't born in slavery but I was born in the white folks kitchen. Bob
Walker was ma mother's Master and James Austin ma father's Master. They
said he wasn't good to none of dem, he was mighty tight. Now ma mothers
white folks was sho good to her. When de war was all over me family
jined and worked fer people not berry far from ma mother's masters.
There was two brothers and a sister older than me. She thought her white
folks do better by her than anybody so she went back to em during her
pregnancy and thats how come I was born in der kitchen a white mid-wife
tended on er. I never will forget her. She was named Mrs. Coffee. There
wasn't many doctors in the whole country then. I was born in Haywood
county Tennessee in 1866. No'm I tell you when you first come I wasn't
born in slavery. My white mistress named me, the young mistress, she
named me Callie. Bob Walkers girl married Ben Geeter. I was right in Ben
Geeters kitchen when Miss Sallie named me. They seemed proud of the
little black babies.
Ma mother was a field hand and she washed and ironed. She was a good
spinner. She carded and wove and spun all. She knitted too. She knitted
mostly by nite. All the stockings and gloves had to be knit. She sewed
and I learned from her. We had to sew with our fingers.
When I was a little girl I just set around, brought in wood. Yes maam we
did play and I had some dolls, I was proud of my dolls, just rag dolls.
We use to drive the calves up. If they didn't come up they sent the dog
fur de cows. One of dem wore a bell. They had shepherd dogs, long
haired, gentle dogs, to fetch the cows when they didn't come.
Ma folks farmed in Tennessee till I married and den we farmed. Agents
jess kept comin after us to get us to come to this rich country. They
say: hogs jess walking round with knife and forks stickin in der backs
beggin somebody to eat em over in Arkansas.
No'm I aint seed none lack dat, I seed em down in the swamps what you
could saw a good size saplin down wid der backbones. I says I mean I
seed plenty raysor back hogs, and long noses and long straight ears. I
show have since I come here. The land was so poor in Tennessee and this
was uncleared land so we come to a new country. It show is rich land.
They use guano back in Tennessee now or they couldn't raise nuthin. Abe
Miller an old slave owner what we worked wid come out here. He was broke
and he paid our way. We come on the Josie Harry boat. Der was several
families sides us come wid him. He done fine out here--we got off the
boat at Augusta and I worked up there in Woodruff county till ma
husbands brother's wife died and he had a farm his own. We raised his
boys and our family till dey was ob age. I left em. They went in big
business here in Biscoe and lost de farm and everything. Ma husband died
I lives with ma girl. I got one boy married lives in Chicago, and a girl
up there too. No'm dey aint rich. Dem his children come home wid ma
daughters on a visit--Little Yankees ain't got no manners.
I voted one time in ma life, in 1933, for Hoover. I don't know nothing
about voting. I can read. I reads ma Bible. Ma young mistress learnt me
to read. I never got to go to school much. Whut my young mistress learnt
me was ma A B C's and how to call words. Yes maam I can write ma name
but I forgot how to write, been so long since I wrote a letter.
All the songs I ever sung was "In Dixie" "Little Brown Jug" an mostly
religious songs, Lawd I forgot em now. I never knowd about no slave
uprisings--white folks alway good to us. We misses em now. Times not
lack dey use to be.
Dese young generations don't take no interest in nothin no mo. Its
kinder kritical. No use trying to tell em nuthin. Dey's getting an
education I don't know whut thell do with it. If dey had somebody to
manage fur them seem like they kaint kandle no business without getting
broke. They work hard and make some seems lack they jes kaint keep
nuthin. No'om I don't think they are so bad.
In 1893 me and ma husband worked on our own place till we come down here
we sold it and went on his brothers place. I owns ma house thats all. Ma
daughters help me and we get a little provisions and clothes along from
the relief. If I could work I wouldn't ax nobody for no help. I jess
past working much.
I jess don't know what is going to become of the present generation. The
conditions are better than they use to be, heap better. They have no
education and don't have to work as hard as we use to. They seems so
restless and don't take no interest in nothin. They are all right. It is
jess the times an the Bible full filling fast as it can.
Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor
Person interviewed: Charles Green Dortch
804 Victory Street, Little Rock, Arkansas
Age: 81
[HW: Father a Pet]
"I was born June 18, 1857. The reason I don't show my age is because I
got Scotch-Irish, Indian, and Negro mixed up in me. I was born in
Princeton--that is, near Princeton--in Dallas County. Princeton is near
Fordyce. I was born on Hays' farm. Hays was my second master--Archie
Hays. Dortch was my first master. He brought my parents from Richmond,
Virginia, and he settled right in Princeton.
"My father's name was Reuben Rainey Dortch. He was an octoroon I guess.
He looked more like a Cuban than a Negro. He had beautiful wavy hair,
naturally wavy. He was tall, way over six feet, closer to seven. His
father was Dortch. Some say Rainey. But he must have been a Dortch; he
called himself Dortch, and we go in the name of Dortch. Rainey was a
white man employed on Dortch's plantation. Rainey's name was Wilson
Rainey. My name has always been Dortch.
"My mother was named Martha Dortch. I am trying to think what her maiden
name was. My sister can tell you all the details of it. She is five
years older than I am. She can tell you all the old man's folks and my
mother's too more easily than I can.
"My father had, as nearly as I can remember--lemme see--Cordelia,
Adrianna, Mary, Jennie, Emma, and Dortch. Emma and Dortch were children
by a first wife. Cordelia was his stepdaughter. My brothers were Alec
and Gabe. There is probably some I have overlooked.
"The Indian blood in me came through my mother's father. He was a
full-blooded red Indian. I can't think of his name now. Her mother was a
dark woman.
"My father was a carpenter, chair maker, and a farmer too. All the work
he did after peace was declared was carpentry and chair and basket
making. He made coffins too just after peace was declared. They didn't
have no undertakers then. He made the bottoms to chairs too. He could
put a roof on a house beautifully and better than any one I know. Nobody
could beat him putting shingles on a house.
"My mother was reared to work in the house. She was cook, housekeeper.
She was a weaver too. She worked the loom and the spinning wheel. She
gardened a little. But her work was mostly in the house as cook and
weaver. She never went out in the field as a hand. My father didn't
either.