'cept dey give us sweet bread and plenty of lallyhoe (molasses) what was
made on de plantation. Us had two weeks vacation from field wuk and dey
let us go rabbit and 'possum huntin'. Us had a gran' time clear up to
New Year's Day.
"Oh, us did have one more big time at dem cornshuckin's. De corn was
hauled to de crib and de folks was 'vited in de atternoon 'fore de
cornshukin' started dat night. When de mans got to shuckin' dat corn, de
'omans started cookin' and dey got thoo' 'bout de same time. Den us et,
and dat was de best part of de cornshuckin' fun. Cotton pickin's was
held on moonshiny nights. Dey picked cotton 'til midnight, and den dey
had a little shakin' of de footses 'til day.
"Mens had good times at de quiltin's too. Deir white folkses allus give
'em a little somepin' extra t'eat at dem special times. But de 'omans
what was cooks at de big house tied sacks 'roun' deir waisties under
deir skirts, and all thoo' de day would drap a little of dis, and some
of dat, in de sacks. When day poured it out at night, dare was plenty of
good somepin' t'eat. De mens kept de fire goin' and if dey got hold of a
tallow candle day lit dat to help de 'omans see how to quilt. Most of de
quiltin's was at night and nearly all of 'em was in winter time.
"De best game us had was marbles, and us played wid homemade clay
marbles most of de time. No witches or ghosties never bothered us,
'cause us kept a horseshoe over our cabin door.
"Miss Annie doctored us. In summer, she made us pull up certain roots
and dry special leafs for to make her teas out of. Horehoun', boneset,
and yellow root was de main things she used. She made a sort of sody out
of de white ashes f'um de top of a hick'ry fire and mixed it wid vinegar
for headaches. De black ashes, left on de bottom of de hick'ry fire, was
leached for lye, what was biled wid grease to make our soap.
"I never will forgit de day dey told us de war was over and us was free.
One of de 'omans what was down by de spring a washin' clothes started
shoutin': 'Thank God-a-Moughty I'se free at last!' Marse Tom heared her
and he come and knocked her down. It was 'bout October or November 'fore
he ever told us dat us was free sho' 'nough. Dat same 'oman fainted dead
away den 'cause she wanted to holler so bad and was skeered to make a
soun'. De yankees come thoo' soon atter dat and said us was free and
'vited all de Niggers dat wanted to, to go 'long wid dem. I never will
forgit how bad dem yankees treated Old Miss. Dey stole all her good
hosses, and her chickens and dey broke in de smokehouse and tuk her
meat. Dey went in de big house and tuk her nice quilts and blankets. She
stood all of dat wid a straight face but when dey foun' her gold, she
just broke down and cried and cried. I stayed on and was Miss Annie's
houseboy long as she lasted. I was 21 when she died.
"Dem night riders done plenty of whuppin' on our plantation. Hit was a
long time 'fore Niggers could git 'nough money to buy lan' wid and it
was a good 20 years 'fore no school was sot up for Niggers in our
settlement.
"I thinks Mr. Jefferson Davis and Mr. Lincoln was bofe of 'em doin' deir
best to be all right. Booker Washin'ton, he was all right too, but he
sho' was a 'maybe man.' He mought do right and den he moughtn't.
"Yes Ma'am, if Old Miss was livin' I'd ruther have slavery days back,
'cause den you knowed you was gwine to have plenty t'eat and wear, and a
good place to sleep even if Mist'ess did make you wuk moughty hard. Now
you can wuk your daylights plum out and never can be sho' 'bout gittin'
nothin'.
"De fust time I married me and Ad'line Rogers stood up by da side of de
big road whilst de preacher said his marryin' words over us, and den us
went on down de road. Me and Ad'line had six chillun: Mary, Lucy, Annie,
Bessie, John and Henry Thomas. Atter my Ad'line died, I married Daisy
Carlton. I didn't have no weddin' needer time. Me and Daisy just got a
hoss and buggy and driv' up to de house whar de Justice of de Peace
lived, and he jined us in mattermony. Den us got back in de buggy and
went back down de big road."
Tom began telling why he joined the church, when Daisy interrupted. "Now
Tom," she said, "you just tell dis white lady what you told me 'bout how
come you jined de church." "Now, Miss Daisy," pleaded Tom, "l don't want
to do dat." Daisy snapped: "I don't keer what you don't want to, you is
gwine to tell de trufe, Tom Hawkins." At that, Tom giggled and began:
"Well, Miss, hit was lak dis: I went to church one night a feelin'
moughty good. I went up and kneeled at de altar whar dey was prayin' for
converts, and a good lookin' yaller gal was kneelin' right in front of
me. I accident'ly tetched her on de laig. I sho' didn't mean to do it.
In dat 'cited crowd most anything was apt to happen. Dat gal, she kicked
me in de eye, and bruised up my face. My nose and eyes started drippin'
and I hollered out real loud: 'Oh, Lord have mussy.' Den I staged a
faint. De brother's of de church tuk me outside. Dey was sho' I had got
'ligion. By dat time I was so 'shamed of myself, I went back inside de
meetin' house and jined de church, 'cause I didn't want nobody to know
what had done happened. I 'cided den and dar to change my way of livin'.
Next time I seed dat yaller gal I axed her why she kicked me in de face
and she said: 'Next time you do what you done den, I'se gwine to kill
you, Nigger."
"Yes Ma'am, I thinks evvybody ought to be 'ligious."
EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
BILL HEARD
475 Reese Street
Athens, Georgia
Written by: Miss Grace McCune
Athens --
Edited by: Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
Athens --
and
John N. Booth
District Supervisor
Federal Writers' Proj.
Residencies 6 & 7
Augusta, Georgia.
Sept. 12, 1938
BILL HEARD
Ex-Slave--Age 73.
Bill Heard's blacksmith shop, a sagging frame structure, in the forks of
Oconee Street and Lexington Highway, is conveniently located for both
local and traveling clientele.
An old voice singing =Swing Low Sweet Chariot= in a low tone but with a
fervor known only to Negroes led the visitor through the shop, where
there was no sight of the singer. Bill was eventually discovered seated
on a cushion-covered nail keg beneath a large water-oak at the rear of
the building. A large hymn book was placed across his knees, and the old
Negro was happily singing away all by himself. His gray hair was partly
covered by an old black cap, and his faded blue work skirt and pants
showed evidence of long wear.
As the song ended Bill discovered that he was not alone. Off came his
cap, and he scrambled to his feet with a smile. "Good evenin', Missy,
how is you? Won't you have a seat and rest? Dese nail kegs makes a
mighty good place to set when you is tired out, and it's powerful nice
and cool under dis old tree." After his guest was comfortably seated on
another cushioned keg, the aged smith resumed his perch. "I didn't hear
you come into my shop, and I think dat's about de fust time anybody
ever did come in dar widout me hearin' 'em. I used to be in dar so busy
all de time, I never had no chance to rest up or practice my singin'.
Times has changed in lots of ways since dem good old days. Some folks
laughs when us calls 'em 'good old days,' and dey wants to know how come
us thinks dey was good old days, when us had such hard wuk to do den.
Course folks had to wuk hard and didn't have all dese new-fangled
gadgets to wuk wid lak dey got now, but I still calls 'em de good old
days 'cause folks was better off den; dey loved one another and was
allus ready to lend a helpin' hand, 'specially in times of trouble.
"I don't know nothin' 'bout slavery times 'cept what my Mammy and Daddy
told me. Daddy, he belonged to Marse Tom Heard down in Elbert County,
'bout 10 miles from Rucker place, nigh Ruckersville. Daddy said Marse
Tom had about a hunnerd and twenty-five slaves on his place. Daddy was
mighty little when Marse Tom got him, and he never bought none of
Daddy's other kinfolks, so it was right hard for de little boy all by
hisself, 'cause de other slaves on de plantation was awful mean to him.
Dey wouldn't let him sleep in deir quarters, so he stayed up at de big
house, and place to keep warm. Atter he got big enough to wuk, day
treated him better.
"Evvybody cooked on fireplaces dem days, 'cause dere warn't no
sto'-bought stoves. Marse Tom fed all his slaves at de big house; he
kept 'em so regular at wuk dere warn't no time for 'em to do deir own
cookin'.
"Slaves lived in one-room log cabins dat had rock chimblies, and each
cabin had one little window wid a wooden shutter dey fastened at night
and in bad weather. Deir beds was made out of pine poles fastened to de
sides of dem old beds 'teesters,' 'cause de posties was so high. Ropes
or cords was criss-crossed to hold 'em together and to take de place of
springs. Nobody hadn't ever saw no iron springs on beds dem days. Dem
big old ticks was generally filled wid wheat straw, but sometimes slaves
was 'lowed to pick up waste cotton and wash, dry, and card it to stuff
deir bed-ticks wid. But Missy, dat was jus' too much trouble when a good
old straw tick slept so fine. Cheers was made out of oak splits, and
cane and rye plaits was used for de cheer-bottoms. Dem old cheers sot
mighty good and lasted a lifetime.
"Folks sho 'nough did live at home den; dey raised all sorts of
vegetables sich as corn, 'taters, wheat, rye, and oats, and what's more,
dey raised de cotton and wool to make de cloth for deir clothes. Cows,
hogs, goats, sheep, chickens, geese, and turkeys was runnin' all over
dem pastures, and dere warn't no lack of good victuals and home-made
clothes. When hogs and cows was kilt to put meat in de smokehouse deir
hides was tanned for leather to be used for harness and shoes, and a
heap of times a piece of hide was used for a cheer-seat.
"Daddy said dey had a powerful hard time gittin' things lak soda, salt,
sugar, and coffee durin' de war times. He said dat sometimes corn and
okra seeds was parched right brown and ground up to be used for coffee,
but it warn't nigh as good as sho 'nough coffee. When de salt had to be
used if folks and critters was to keep well. Dey dug up de dirt under
old smokehouses and biled it to git out de salt. Nobody didn't waste
none of dat salt. No Surree! It was too hard to git. When it got so dey
couldn't buy no soda, dey saved nice clean corncobs and burned dem into
a fine powder what dey used for soda. Was it fit for bread-makin'? Why,
Missy, dem biscuits made out of corncob soda and baked in dem old dutch
ovens was fit for anybody to eat and enjoy. De onliest trouble 'bout it
was gittin' 'em to bake enough of it.
"Slaves clothes was all made at home. Gals spun de thread and old 'omens
wove de cloth on home-made looms; my Mammy was one of dem weavin'
'omans. Clothes for summer was jus' thin cotton, but cotton and wool was
mixed for cold weather, and don't think dem wool and cotton clothes
didn't keep out de cold; dey sho did. Deir clothes was dyed wid barks
from trees, ink balls, walnut hulls, and red bud. Most evry plantation
had its own shoemaker man dat tanned all de leather and made up all de
shoes. Leather for slaves' shoes warn't allus tanned and shoes made out
of untanned leather looked lak dey had done been dyed red.
"Dey had special mens on de plantation for all de special wuk. One
carpenter man done all de fixin' of things lak wagons and plows, holped
wid all de buildin' wuk, and made all de coffins.
"No, Missy, dere warn't no undertakers back in dem days, and folks had
to pervide evvything at home. Corpses was measured and coffins made to
fit de bodies. All de neighbors, fur and nigh, gathered 'round to set up
wid de fambly.
"Funerals warn't so common den as now 'cause folks didn't die out so
fast dem days. Dey tuk better keer of deyselfs, et right, wuked hard,
and went to bed at night 'stid of folks runs 'round now; deir mammies
and daddies never knows whar dey is. Folks don't teach chillun right,
and dey don't make dem go to church lak dey should oughta.
"Folks didn't even git married back in dem days lak dey does now,
leastwise slaves didn't. If a slave wanted to marry up wid a gal he
knocked on his Marster's door and told him 'bout it. If his Marstar
laked de idea he told him to go on and take de gal and to treat her
right; dat was all dere was to slaves gittin' married.
"My Daddy said slaves went to de white folks' church 'til dey got some
churches for colored folks. Church days was big days wid folks den
'cause dey didn't have meetin' evvy Sunday. Slave 'omans had percale or
calico dresses, brogan shoes, and big home-made bonnets wid slats in de
brims for Sunday-go-to-meetin' wear, and if it was cold dey wropt up in
shawls. Menfolks wore cotton shirts and pants. Dey had grand preachin'
dem days and folks got honest-to-goodness 'ligion.
"Folks wuked mighty hard dem days, 'specially durin' plantin' and
harvest time, 'til atter de corn was gathered and fetched out of de
fields in dem old two-wheel carts dat was used to haul up all de craps.
When de cornshuckin's started evvywhar dey tuk time about at de diffunt
plantations. De fust thing dey done atter dey got together was to 'lect
a general; he led de singin', and de faster he sung de faster de shucks
flew. Plenty of corn liquor was passed 'round and you know dat stuff is
sho to make a Nigger hustle. Evvy time a red ear of corn was found dat
meant a extra drink of liquor for de Nigger dat found it. Atter de last
ear of corn was shucked a big supper was served and dey danced and sung
de rest of de night.
"When dey needed some new ground cleared up, dey had a logrollin'.
Evvybody tried to out wuk de others, and if de job hadn't been finished
'fore night, dey kept right on at it by moonlight. One man wuked so hard
tryin' to beat de others dat when he went to de spring for some water,
he tuk one drink, raised his haid quick lak, and died right dar. He was
plumb daid when dey picked him up!
"Dey give us our freedom in April and Daddy left Old Marster in May. He
moved here nigh de old Pittner place whar I was borned. Daddy farmed for
a-while and wuked at blacksmithin' for de white folks too, 'cause dat
was de wuk he had been doin' for his Old Marster. De fust ricollections
I've got is 'bout de days on dat old place. I ain't never gwine to
forgit 'bout dem old cottonpickin's dey had when I was a youngster. Dey
said dey was jus' lak dem cottonpickin's dey had 'fore de war. Dey would
git up big crowds and pick cotton by de light of de harvest moon, and
dat's 'most as bright as daylight. Evvybody holped and, fast as dey
picked all de cotton on one farm and et a big supper, dey hustled on to
de next place whar plenty of cotton, white in de fields and liquor, and
good barbecue, and sich lak kept 'em happy and hustlin' 'most all night.
When dey had done all de cottonpickin' dey could for one night dey
stopped for dancin' and all sorts of frolickin'. Plenty of liquor in dem
little brown jugs holped to make things 'most too lively sometimes. De
few fights dey had when dey was drinkin' heavy didn't 'mount to much.
"Chillun loved hogkillin' times. Five or six mens would jine up and go
from place to place in de community whar dere was lots of hogs to be
kilt. When dem hogs was all butchered de folks would git together and
sich a supper as dey would have! De mostest fresh meat sich as
chit'lin's, haslets, pig foots, and sausage, wid good old collard
greens, cracklin' bread, and hot coffee. I'm a-tellin' you, Lady, dat
was good eatin', and atter you had done been wukin' in de hogkillin' dem
cold days you was ready for victuals dat would stay by you.
"De fust place I ever went to school was in a little house on de old
Bert Benyard place nigh Winterville, Georgy, and let me tell you, Missy,
schoolin' warn't nothin' lak what it is now. Dem what lived nigh went
home to dinner, but chillun dat lived a fur piece off fotch deir dinner
to school in a tin bucket. Us was still livin' dar when Mr. John McCune
moved from Whitfield County to dat old Pittner place. My Daddy wuked for
him and I played 'round wid his boys.
"Daddy moved closer to town and opened up a blacksmith shop on Broad
Street at what was called Wood's corner den. I holped him in de shop and
went to school some. Folks had to wuk so hard to make enough to keep
alive dat dey didn't git to go to school much. Athens was a heap diffunt
den to what it is now; it was mostly woods, and de roads was awful. Dere
warn't no paved streets, no street-lights, and no streetcars den. I
'members dem fust street-lights. Lawsey, Missy, folks was sho proud of
dem lights and, when dey got dem little streetcars what was pulled by
little mules, Athens folks felt lak dey lived in a real city. Dey had a
big old town hall whar dey had all sorts of shows and big 'tainments.
"Times has changed, folks has changed, and nothin' ain't lak it used to
be. When I was little it warn't no sight a t'all to see traders wid big
droves of hogs, horses, cows, sheep, and goats, bringin' 'em to town to
sell or trade for somepin dey needed. Daddy said dat durin' slavery time
dey drove slaves 'long de road de same way and sold 'em jus' lak dey
sold deir cattle.
"It was mostly woods and fields 'round here when I opened dis little
shop 'bout 40 years ago. Johnson's store was sot up whar de Carither's
Wagon Yard used to be, and soon paved streets was laid, and den fillin'
stations, other stores, and de lak, sprung up in a hurry 'long here.
Soon dere won't be no need of a blacksmith shop here, but I wants to
stay on at wuk in my shop jus' as long as I kin, here in dis world of
trouble whar I has had good times and hard times jus' lak de others. No
other place wouldn't seem right.
"Me and my wife jus' runned away and got married widout havin' no big
weddin' and atter us has done wuked together dese long years, us hopes
to go to de heavenly home together. Our oldest gal is all us has left of
our five chillun; she lives off somewhar in Washington, and us don't
never hear from her no more. Us still has de boy us 'dopted long years
ago; him and his wife lives wid us and dey keeps us from bein' too
lonesome.
"I has made a good livin' right here in dis old shop, wuked hard, and
saved my money, and now us is got a right nice little home out on Reese
Street. De Good Lord has been wid us in all our troubles as well as in
our good times, and I knows He is gwine to stay wid us de rest of de
time and den He will take us home to Glory.
"I'se mighty glad you hunted me up, for I 'members dem old days, playin'
wid your Daddy, down on de Pittner place. Atter us had all moved to
Athens, he was still my friend. Come back to see me again, and just
trust in de Good Lord; He will take keer of you."
As the visitor went down the street Bill's quavering voice was heard
again. He was singin' =Lord I'se Comin' Home=.
A STORY OF SLAVERY
AS TOLD BY
EMMALINE HEARD--EX-SLAVE
A paper submitted by
Minnie B. Ross
Revision of original copy
and typing by J.C.Russell
1-26-37
Story of slavery by ex-slave
Emmaline Heard
Ex-Slave
M. B. Ross
Emmaline Heard is a small, dark brown skinned woman who appears to be
about 67 but is probably older. Her mind seems to be active, however, as
she responds quickly to questions and expresses herself intelligently.
Henry County, near McDonough, Ga., is Emmaline's birthplace. Judging
from her earliest childhood memories and what she learned from her
mother, her birth must have occurred four or five years before freedom.
Her parents, Lewis and Caroline Harper had eleven children, of whom she
was the second youngest.
Mr. Roger and Mrs. Frances Harper were the owners of the Heard family.
The large Harper plantation was located near McDonough, bordering the
McDonough highway. The Harper home, a large 2-story frame dwelling,
faced the highway. The family consisted of twin boys and two girls, in
addition to the father and mother. They also owned a large number of
slaves, who occupied two rows of cabins, built close together, at some
distance behind the "big house."
In those days before the War, slaves were moved from place to place and
from State to State in droves, known as "speculators' droves," and sold
at public auction. Emmaline Heard's father was born in Virginia, but was
brought to Georgia and sold to the Harpers as a plow boy, at the age of
eleven.
The slave's cabins were constructed of rough-hewn logs, with the cracks
daubed with mud and, as Emmaline recalled it, were very warm; warmer, in
fact, than many of their houses are today. The furniture consisted of a
"corded" bed, wooden tables and benches. This "corded" bed was
constructed by running rope or cord from the head to the foot and then
from side to side. A wooden peg was driven into the holes to hold the
cord in place. Pegs were a household necessity and had to be cared for
just as a key is today. Most homes also included a quilt slab, a sort of
table used to place quilts on, as a necessary part of the furniture.
Every woman had a certain amount of weaving and spinning to do at home
after coming in from the fields. Emmaline says her mother had to card
bats at night so that the two older sisters could begin spinning the
next morning. A loom was almost as large as a small kitchen and was
operated by hands and feet. Until midnight, the spinning wheels could be
heard humming in the slave cabins. At the hour of twelve, however, a
bell was rung, which was the signal for the slaves to cease their
spinning and go to bed.
Dye for coloring the cloth was provided by collecting sweet gum, dogwood
bark, and red clay. Mixing these together produced different colors of
dye. Sweet gum and clay produced a purple; dogwood, a blue.
Two dresses a year were allowed the women, while two cotton shirts and
two pair of cotton pants were given the men. Everyone received one pair
of shoes. Emmaline's father was a shoemaker by trade and made shoes for
both slaves and the Harper family. The slaves shoes were called "nigger
shoes," and made from rough horse and mule hide. The white folks' shoes
were made from soft calf leather. Mr. Harper had a tanning vat on his
plantation especially for the purpose of tanning hides for their shoes.
Emmaline said these tanning vats reminded her of baptismal holes. The
water was very deep, and once her sister almost drowned in one. Barks of
various kinds were placed in the water in these vats to produce an acid
which would remove the hair from the hides. Layers of goat, calf, and
horse hides were placed in the vats and, after a certain length of time
removed and dried.
Meals on week days consisted principally of syrup and bread and they
were glad, Emmaline stated, to see Saturday come, because they knew they
would have biscuit made from "seconds" on Sunday. Butter seems to have
been a delicacy but little known. "The only butter I remember eating
before we were freed," Emmaline declared, "was that which my little
mistress Fannie would slip to me." This led her mother to say, "Miss
Fannie is so crazy about 'Em' I am going to give 'Em' to her for a
cook."
Besides working as a plow hand, Emmaline's mother assisted Aunt Celia
Travis in preparing the meals for the Harper family. Four or five pots
each containing a different kind of food hung over the fire along the
long fireplace. Just before dinner, the mistress would come in to
inspect the cooking. If the food in any of the pots was not cooked to
her satisfaction, she would sometimes lose her temper, remove her
slipper and strike the cook.
Slaves on the Harper plantation arose when the horn was sounded at four
o'clock and hurried to the fields, although they would sometimes have to
wait for daylight to dawn to see how to work. The overseer rode over the
plantation watching the slaves at work and keeping account of the amount
of work performed by each. Any who failed to complete their quota at the
close of the day were punished.
On the Harper plantation, a brush arbor was used for the slave's
church. The trees and underbrush were cleared away to provide a
sufficient space to accommodate the slaves and the trees evened off at a
good height and the brush and limbs piled on top to form a roof. In
rainy weather, of course, church services could not be held. Sometimes
the slaves would slip behind the trees beside the white folks' church
and listen to the singing and preaching. They would then go back to
their brush arbor church, and preach the same gospel and sing the same
songs they had heard in the white people's church.