somebody's pasture an' kill a hog or sheep an' clean him by a branch an'
den hide de meat in de woods or in de loft of de house. Some of de white
folks would learn you how to steal fum other folks. Sometimes ol'
marster would say to one o' us: 'Blast you--you better go out an' hunt
me a hog tonight an' put it in my smokehouse---dey can search you
niggers' houses but dey can't search mine.'
"Once a week de marster give us three pounds of pork, a half gallon o'
syrup, an' a peck o' meal. You had to have a garden connected wid yo'
house fer yo' vegetables. De marster would let you go out in de woods
an' cut you as large a space as you wanted. If you failed to plant, it
wus jes' yo' bad luck. If you wanted to you could sell de corn or de
tobacco or anything else dat you raised to de marster an' he would pay
you. 'Course he wusn't goin' to pay you too much fer it.
"All de slaves had to work---my mother wus a plow han'. All de aged men
an' women had to tend to de hogs an' de cows an' do de weavin' an' de
sewin'. Sometimes ol' marster would let us have a frolic an' we could
dance all night if we wanted to as long as we wus ready to go to de
fiel' when de overseer blowed de bugle 'fo day nex' mornin'. De fiel'
han's had to git up early enuff to fix dey breakfas' befo' dey went to
de fiel'. We chillun took dinner to 'em at twelve o'clock. We used
baskets to take de dinner in, an' large pails to take de milk in. Dey
had to fix supper fer dey selves when dey lef' de fiel' at dark.
"All de clothes we wore wuz made on de plantation. De women had to card,
spin an' weave de thread an' den when de cloth wuz made it wuz dyed wid
berries. My step-father wuz de shoemaker on de plantation an' we always
had good shoes. He beat ol' marster out o' 'bout fifteen years work.
When he didn't feel like workin' he would play like he wuz sick an' ol'
marster would git de doctor for him. When anybody got sick dey always
had de doctor to tend to him."
Regarding houses, Mr. Green says: "We lived in log houses dat had wood
floors. Dere wuz one window an' a large fireplace where de cookin' wuz
done in de ashes. De chinks in de walls wuz daubed wid mud to keep de
weather out. De beds wuz made by hand an' de mattresses wuz big tickin's
stuffed wid straw."
Continuing he says: "Yo' actual treatment depended on de kind o' marster
you had. A heap o' folks done a heap better in slavery dan dey do now.
Everybody on our plantation wuz glad when de Yankee soldiers tol' us we
wuz free."
EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW:
MARGARET GREEN
1430 Jones Street
Augusta, Georgia.
(Richmond County)
BY: Mrs. Margaret Johnson
Editor
Federal Writers' Project,
Augusta, Georgia.
EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
Margaret Green,
1430 Jones Street,
Augusta, Georgia
(Richmond County)
Margaret Green, 1430 Jones Street was born in 1855 on the plantation of
Mr. Cooke McKie in Edgefield County, South Carolina.
Margaret's house was spotlessly clean, her furniture of the golden oak
type was polished, and the table cover and sideboard scarfs were
beautifully laundered. Margaret is a small, trim little figure dressed
in a grey print dress with a full gathered skirt and a clean, starched
apron with strings tied in a big bow. She has twinkling eyes, a kindly
smile and a pleasant manner.
"Yes, mam, I remembers slavery times very well. I wuz a little girl but
I could go back home and show you right where I wuz when the sojers come
through our place with their grey clothes and bright brass buttons. They
looked mighty fine on their hosses ridin' round. I could show you right
where those sojers had the camp".
Margaret described "the quarters" and told of the life. "Each fam'ly had
a garden patch, and could raise cotton. Only Marse Cooke raised cotton;
what we raised we et".
"Margaret were the slaves on your master's plantation mistreated?"
"What you say? Mistreat? Oh! you mean whipped! Yes, man, sometime Marse
Cooke whip us when we need it, but he never hurt nobody. He just give
'em a lick or two make 'em mind they business. Marse Cooke was a good
man, and he never let a overseer lay a finger on one of his niggers!"
"Margaret were you ever whipped?"
Margaret laughed; with her eyes twinkling merrily she replied, "Marse
Cooke say he wuz gonna whip me 'cause I was so mischievious. He was on
his horse. I broke and run, and Marse ain't give me that whippin' till
yet!"
"Yes, mam, I hearn stories o' ghos'es and hants, but I never did b'lieve
in none of 'em. I uster love to play and to get out of all the work I
could. The old folk on the plantashun uster tell us younguns if we
didn't hurry back from the spring with the water buckets, the hants and
buggoos would catch us. I ain't never hurry till yet, and I never see a
hant. I wished I could, 'caus' I don't b'lieve I would be scart."
"Margaret, did you learn to read?"
"Oh! no mam, that wus sumpin' we wuzn't 'lowed to do; nobody could have
lessons. But we went to Church to the Publican Baptist Church. Yes, mam,
I'se sho' dat wuz the name--the Publican Baptist Church--ain't I been
there all my life 'till I been grown and married? We uster go mornin'
and evenin', and the white people sat on one side and the slaves on the
other."
Margaret said her mother was a seamstress and also a cook. Three other
seamstresses worked on the plantation. There was a spinning wheel and a
loom, and all the cotton cloth for clothing was woven and then made into
clothes for all the slaves. There were three shoe makers on the place
who made shoes for the slaves, and did all the saddle and harness
repair.
Margaret was asked who attended the slaves when they were sick.
"Marse Cooke's son was a doctor", she replied, and he 'tended anybody
who was bad sick. Granny Phoebe was the midwife at our plantashun and
she birthed all the babies. She was old when I was a little gal, and she
lived to be 105. Marse Cooke never let any of his slaves do heavy work
'till dey wuz 18 years old." Margaret's father went to the war with
"Marse Cooke" as his body servant, and her mother went also, to cook for
him!
"To tell you the truth, man," said the old woman, "I 'member more 'bout
that war back yonder than I member 'bout the war we had a few years
ago."
Minnie Green
Interviewed
Alberta Minor
Re-search Worker
Minnie is not an ex-slave, for she was "jes walkin'" when the war was
over. Her parents were given their freedom in May but stayed on with
Judge Green until fall, after the wheat cutting. The family moved to a
two story house "out Meriwether Road" but didn't get along so well.
Minnie was hungry lots and came to town to get scraps of food. When she
was a "good big girl" she came to town one day with her hair full of
cukle-burrs, dressed in her mother's basque looking for food, when she
saw a man standing in front of a store eating an orange. She wanted that
peeling. No one kept their cows and pigs up and when the man threw the
peeling on the ground a sow grabbed it. Minnie chased the pig right down
Hill Street, was hollering and making plenty of noise, when a lady,
"Mis' Mary Beeks", came out and asked her "what's the matter?" "Right
then and there I hired myself out to Miss Mary, and she raised me."
Minnie played with white children, went to the "white folks" Church, and
did not "associate with niggers" until she was grown. Every summer they
went to the Camp Grounds for two weeks. They took the children, Minnie
for nurse, a stove, a cow and everything they needed for that time.
She was nearly grown before she went to a colored church and "baptisin'"
and it frightened her to see a person immersed, and come up "shoutin'".
Minnie thought they was "fightin' the Preacher" so she didn't go back
anymore.
Minnie firmly believes if a woman comes in your house first on New Years
Day, it will bring you bad luck, and she has walked as far as 10 miles
to get a man in her house first. If she meets a cross eyed person, she
crosses her fingers and spits on them to break the bad spell. "Hooten'
owls" are sure the sign of death and she always burns her hair combins
because if you just throw them away and the birds get them to put in
their nests, you'll have a "wanderin' mind."
Minnie is 72 years old, very active physically and mentally, lives among
the Negroes now but greatly misses her "white folks."
Minnie Green
503 East Chappell Street
Griffin, Georgia
August 31, 1936.
WHEELER GRESHAM of WILKES COUNTY
GEORGIA
by
Minnie Branham Stonestreet
Washington-Wilkes
Georgia
Dec. 14, 1936.
Wheeler Gresham, 82 years old, tall, very erect, has white hair and
beard, a quiet dignified manner, and faded old eyes that seem ever to be
gazing back on those happy days he told about "when we war' in slavery."
He is uneducated, having gone to school only one week in his life--gave
up "tryin' to larn out er books."
Wheeler claims the distinction of having had three masters and loving
them all equally well; he belonged to one and lived with the other two.
It all happened in this wise:
His mother, Barbara Booker, belonged to "Marse Simmie and Marse Jabie
Booker"--("Marse Simmie wuz the one what named me") his father, Franklin
Gresham belonged to "Marse George Gresham." The Bookers and Greshams
lived on adjoining plantations and were the best of friends and
neighbors. They would not sell a slave no matter what happened, so when
Barbara and Franklin wanted to marry they had the consent of their
owners and settled down on the Booker plantation where Barbara continued
her work and Franklin spending all his spare time with her, although he
belonged to the Greshams and kept up his work for them. He had a pass to
go and come as he pleased.
Wheeler tells of his life on the plantations for his time was spent
between the two where he played with the other little slaves and with
the white boys near his age. He enjoyed most playing marbles, hunting
and fishing with the little Gresham boys. He never has had a punishment
of any kind in all his whole long life, and said with much pride--"An' I
ain't never been in no court scrape neither. No'm, my Marsters didn't
'low nobody ter 'buke dey han's. Ef a overseer got rough an' wanted to
beat a nigger, he had to go right den and dar." He added: "Dem overseer
fellows wuz rough anyhow, dey warn't our sort of folks. An' de owners
what wuz mean to dey niggers wuz looked down on by 'spectable white
folks lak dem what I belonged to."
"All us little niggers on the Booker plantation et in de white folks'
kitchen, a big old kitchen out in de yard. De grown slaves cooked and et
in dey cabins, but our Mistess wouldn't trust 'em to feed de little
ones. My Gramma wuz de cook an' we had plenty of good victuals, we'd all
set er round an' eat all we wanted three times er day."
Wheeler said that the Doctor who lived near by was always called in when
the negroes were sick and they had the best of care; their owners saw to
that. Of course there were simple home remedies like mullein tea for
colds, Jerusalem Oak seed crushed up and mixed with syrup, given to them
in the Springtime, and always that terrible "garlic warter" they so
despised to take.
When death came the slave was buried on the plantation in the negro
burial ground, a white preacher conducting the last rites. When a negro
couple wanted to marry the consent of the owners was ceremony enough and
they set up a home as man and wife and lived on "'thout all dis 'vocin'
lak dey has terday."
Christmas was a big time with three or four days holiday on the
plantations. Santa Claus found his way to the Quarters and left the
little negroes stick candy and "reisens", and "dar wuz er plenty of
pound cake fer everybody." Fourth of July was a big holiday and all the
little boys white and black went a-fishing together that day.
Sundays were kept holy--no work was done on the Sabbath. On "meetin'
days" everybody attended the neighborhood Church, white and black
worshiped together, the darkies in the gallery built for them. On all
other Sundays they went to Church, and everybody sat in one big Bible
Class. Wheeler said his Mistess called up all the little negroes on the
plantation on Sunday afternoons and taught them the catechism and told
them Bible stories.
There was plenty of fun for the darkies in the Gresham and Booker
community. They had dances, cornshuckings, picnics and all kinds of old
time affairs. These were attended by slaves for some distance around,
but they had to have passes or "de patter rollers would sho' git 'em. Us
little niggers wuz feared to go 'bout much 'kase we heered so much
erbout de patter rollers." Wheeler enjoyed the cornshuckings more than
anything else, or rather he talked more freely about them. He said that
the corn was piled high in the barn and the men and boys, after a big
supper of "fresh meat and all kinds of good things, and plenty of sho'
nough pound cake"--(that pound cake he can't seem to forget)--would
gather around and to the tune of an old fiddle in the hands of a
plantation musician, they would sing and shuck corn until the whole pile
was finished. Many races were entered into and the winners proclaimed
amid much shouting and laughter. This merriment and work lasted into the
night.
Wheeler was quick to say that the happiest time of his life was those
days of slavery and the first years immediately after. He was happy, had
all that anyone needed, was well taken care of in every way. He spoke of
their family as being a happy one, of how they worked hard all day, and
at night were gathered around their cabin fire where the little folks
played, and his mother spun away on her "task of yarn". His Mistess made
all his clothes, "good warm ones, too." All the little negroes played
together and there "wuz a old colored lady" that looked after them "an'
kept 'em straight."
There was little talk of the war, in fact some of the slaves didn't know
what "de white folks wuz er fightin' 'bout." Wheeler's two Booker
masters, "Marse Simmie and Marse Jabie, went to de war, Marse Jabie wuz
kilt dar." Very little difference was noticed in the plantation life--of
course times were harder and there was a sadness around, but work went
on as usual. When the war was over and the slaves called up and told
they were free: "Sum wuz glad an' sum wuz sorry, dey all wuz at a
wonder--at de row's en', didn't know whar ter go. De most of 'em stayed
on lak we wuz, workin' fer our white folks. Dat's what my Pa an' Ma
done, dey stayed on fer sometime after de war." Wheeler tells about a
few Yankees coming through the country after the war: "Us niggers wuz
all 'feared of 'em an' we run frum 'em, but dey didn't do nothin' to
nobody. I dunno what dey cum er 'round down here fer."
Wheeler said he "nuver paid signs no mind--nuver paid no 'tention to all
dem 'stitions an' sich lak." He didn't have any superstitions to tell
only he did hear "ef a screech owl fly 'cross yo' do' hits er sign of a
death in dat house, an' ef a whippowill calls at de' do' hit's er sign
of death. Dat's what folks say, I don't know nothin' 'bout hit."
"I'm glad I knowed slavery, I had er better livin' in dem days dan I
eber had since. No talk 'bout money in dem days--no mam, an' ef a doctor
wuz needed he wuz right dar. I'se livin' ter day 'kase I got sich a good
start, an' den too, I'se livin' on de days of my Pa and Ma. Dey wuz good
folks an' lived ter be old. An' den too, I'se allus lived on a farm,
ain't nuver knowed no t'other kind of life, an' dat's de healthiest and
freest way ter live."
And, maybe, this gray old son of the soil is right--who knows?
FIRST COPY
OF
ARTICLE ENTITLED:
"AN INTERVIEW WITH HEARD GRIFFIN," EX-SLAVE.
by
Minnie B. Ross
Typed by
A. M. Whitley
1-29-37
HEARD GRIFFIN--EX-SLAVE
In order to catch Mr. Heard Griffin, the writer prepared herself for an
early morning interview. His daughter previously informed her that it
would be the only possible chance of seeing him. Why? because even at
the age of 86 years he is still restless; and is forever in the streets.
He can walk much faster than a young person; but memory and hearing are
a little dimmed by age. By careful and tactful questioning, [HW: and by
giving him] ample time for thinking the writer was able to learn a few
facts of slavery which are as follows:
Mr. Griffin was born May 19, 1850 in Waldon County, Monroe, Georgia. His
mother Sarah Griffin birthed 11 children; but he did not clearly
remember his father as their master sold him when he was a very small
boy. Here he remarked. "They would take small babies from their mothers'
arms and sell them."
Their master and mistress Mike and Lucinda Griffin owned about 200 acres
of land and a large number of slaves. On this plantation was grown corn,
cotton, wheat, etc. Long before day light, the master would come to the
slave quarters and call each person one by one, "Get up. Get up." Very
soon every one was up and fully dressed ready to begin the day's work.
First, however, they drank one or two glasses of milk and a piece of
corn bread, which was considered breakfast. Whether this amount of food
was sufficient for a morning's meal didn't matter to their master. They
simply had to make it last them until dinner. Smiling Mr. Griffin
remarked, "It wouldn't be long before you would hear the "geeing and
hawing" coming from the fields, the squealing of pigs and the barking of
dogs--all sounds mingling together."
Every one had a certain amount of work to complete before the day ended;
and each person worked in feverish haste to get it done and avoid the
whipping which they knew was in store for them, should they fail. During
the day Mr. Griffin's mother worked in the field, hoeing and plowing. At
night she, as well as other women, had to spin thread into cloth until
bed time. Each woman had to complete four cuts or be punished the next
morning. "If it began raining while we worked in the fields, the
overseer would tell everyone to put up their horses and to shelling corn
in the cribs," remarked Mr. Griffin.
"Mike Griffin was the meanest man I've ever known," he continued. "He
would sit down with nothing else to do, think of some man, send for him
and for no reason at all, give him a good beating. He kept a long
cowhide, which was almost an inch thick and with this he would almost
beat folks to death. First you had to remove your clothing so that
whipping would not wear them out. One day he beat a woman named Hannah
so badly that she died the same night. Before daybreak he had carried
the baby off and buried it. We never knew the burial place." Overseers
too, were very mean, particularly those on the Griffin plantation. They
followed the example of the man who hired them and as a result this
plantation was known far and wide for its cruelty, fear and terror. [HW
original text "cruelty, fear and terror" is stricken out.] Many slaves
would have attempted to run away but for fear of the pack of blood
hounds kept for the purpose of tracking run away slaves.
"Patter-rollers" were busy, too, looking up slaves and whipping them for
the flimsiest of excuses. Slaves often outran them to the woods and
managed to return to their plantations unobserved. If a pass had a
certain hour marked in it, for the slave's return, and he failed to
return at the designated houses, this was an offense for which they were
punished by the "patter-rollers." "Yes," remarked Mr. Griffin, "We were
not even allowed to quarrel among ourselves. Our master would quickly
tell us, 'I am the one to fight, not you.'" When a slave visited his
relatives on another plantation the master would send along one or two
of his children to make sure they did not attempt to run away.
Discarded bed clothing was given to slave families on the Griffin
Plantation and often it was necessary to keep a big log fire in the
winter, in order to sleep comfortably. Clothing for individual needs
consisted of one pair of brogan shoes a year and homemade cotton
garments, shirts, pants, dresses, etc. Every person went bare footed in
the summer and saved their one pair of shoes for the winter.
Food consisting of meal, bacon meat, and syrup was given the slave
families once a week. Occasionally "short" a second quality of flour was
given them for their Sunday meals. The Griffins were not liberal in
feeding their slaves, but would not object to their raising a little
corn, and a few vegetables. They had to work their gardens at night,
however, by the light of burning fat wood. Real coffee was on unheard-of
luxury among slaves: so scorched or corn meal served the purpose just as
well. On Christmas the master called each slave and gave him a dram of
whiskey. No other food or fruit was given. [HW: strikes this sentence
out]
Tin pans served as plates for the families. Spoons, knives, and forks
were unheard of: "Many a day I have eaten mashed bread and milk from a
trough and thought it was good," remarked Mr. Griffin.
Occasionally on other plantations slaves were allowed to earn money by
selling vegetables, chickens, etc. On the Griffin Plantation they could
only sell home made "gingercakes" for which a five-cent piece of paper
money was received in return. There were three pieces of paper money
used in those days: the five-cent, ten-cent, and fifteen-cent pieces.
Although the slaves did not have separate churches, they were expected
to attend the white churches and occupy the benches placed in the back,
purposely for them. After the coachman drove the white family to church
he unhitched the horses from the carriage and carried them to the
pasture where they remained until the services were over.
Marriages were very easily performed on the Griffin Plantation: After
securing the consent of both owners the rest of the ceremony consisted
only in having the couple jump the broom. In the event, the bride and
groom lived on separate plantations the groom was given a pass to visit
her on week ends, beginning Saturday afternoon and ending Sunday
evening.
"Our master was too mean to let us have frolics," remarked Mr. Griffin;
"we never knew anything, but work. Of course when we got sick we were
given the best medical care possible. People didn't die, they always got
well." Home remedies made from various roots were used for minor
illnesses.
"When the Civil War broke out our master loaded his horses with his most
valuable possessions and refugeed forty miles from his home," remarked
Mr. Griffin. "On one occasion the Yanks came to our plantation and stole
three of our best horses. I never saw a battle fought but often watched
the Confederate soldiers drilling. We continued to work long after
freedom was declared, not knowing that we were free. One day our
master's son-in-law called us together and told us we were free. Most of
us didn't know what to do but we were glad to get off of that
plantation and away from old man Griffin." With a broad smile he
continued: "Well that is all I can tell you Miss, but come back to see
me again."
With the above remark Mr. Heard Griffin and I closed our interview. He
reminded me, however, that he had been married five times and was the
father of fifteen children, four of whom are still living. His daughter
cares for him and tries to make his old age as happy and comfortable as
she can without the aid of relief.
[HW: David Goodman Gullins]
SUBJECT REMINISCENCES OF SLAVERY DAYS
DISTRICT NO. 1 W.P.A.
EDITOR AND RESEARCH RUTH A. CHITTY
SUPERVISOR J. E. JAFFEE
October 16, 1936.
REMINISCENCES OF SLAVERY DAYS
It was a beautiful brisk morning in October when I turned into main
street to call on one of the most unique and interesting characters that
we have among our colored citizens.
Upon arriving at the house where Uncle Dave lives, I made my way through
a side gate and the first thing that greeted me in his back yard was a
sign, "No Truspassing." I called to a tenant who rents his home to
inquire where I might find Uncle Dave. We looked about the premises, and
called him, but no response. I was just about to leave in despair, when
the colored girl said "maybe he can be found inside," whereupon we
called him forth.
He greeted me with a deep peal of laughter, saying "now you done caught
me sho, Mistiss!" I told him the story of my mission, and, after making
various excuses he finally, with a studied reluctance, consented to talk
to me a while. He called the colored girl and asked her to bring a chair
into the yard, which he placed near his favorite out-door lounging
place, and invited me to sit down. Then, with a hearty laugh he said,
"now Miss, just what is it you want me to tell you?"
"I want you to tell me all about yourself back in slavery days and
since, Uncle Dave."