in Augus' de white folkses let de Niggers have dat day for camp meetin'.
Dey fixed good dinners for us, an' let us go off in de woods an' stay
all day. Dem chicken pies an' dem good old 'tato custards, 'bout one an'
a half inches thick, made wid sea sugar, dey make your mouf water just
to talk 'bout 'em. What wuz sea sugar? Why it wuz dat crawly, kind of
grayish, lookin' sugar us used den. I wuz grown 'fore I ever seed no
sho' 'nough white sugar.
"My pa hired me out to Mr. Ray Kempton to tote cotton to de gin on his
plantation, when I wuz 'bout 16 years old. I wuz wukkin' dar when de
fust railroad wuz laid, an' dey named de place Kempton station fer Marse
Ray Kempton. I wuz paid five dollars a month an' board for my wuk, an' I
stayed dar 'til I married.
"I wuz 'bout eighteen when I rode on de train for de fust time. Us rode
from Social Circle to Washin'ton, Wilkes, to see my ma's folkses. Ma tuk
a heap of ginger cakes an' fried chicken along for us to eat on de
train, an' de swingin' an' swayin' of dat train made me so sick I didn't
want to ride no more for a long time.
"Soon atter I wuz twenty years old, I married a gal from Washin'ton,
Wilkes, an' us moved to Athens, an' I been livin' right here ever since.
Us got here de last day de old whiskey house wuz open. Dey closed it
down dat night. I wukked a long time wid de Allgood boys in de horse
tradin' business an' den I wukked for Mr. an' Mrs. Will Peeples 'bout
ten years. Dey runned a boardin' house, an' while I wuz dar, Dr. Walker
come to board, an' I wuz mighty glad to wait on him, 'cause he wuz from
Monroe an' had done been livin' on de old Walker place dat I stayed at
when us wuz down dar.
"My uncle, Ambus Carter, wuz a preacher on Marse Jim Smith's place. He
b'longed to Marse Jim durin' de War, an' he never did leave him. Atter
freedom come, most of Marse Jim's Niggers lef' him, an' den he had what
dey called chaingang slaves. He paid 'em out of jail for 'em to wuk for
him. An' he let 'em have money all de time so dey didn't never git out
of debt wid him. Dey had to stay dar an' wuk all de time, an' if dey
didn't wuk he had 'em beat. He evermore did beat 'em if dey got lazy,
but if dey wukked good, he wuz good to 'em. Sometimes dey tried to run
away. Dey had dogs to trail 'em wid so dey always cotched 'em, an' den
da whippin' boss beat 'em mos' to death. It wuz awful to hear 'em
hollerin' an' beggin' for mussy. If dey hollered, 'Lord have mussy!'
Marse Jim didn't hear 'em, but if dey cried, 'Marse Jim have mussy!' den
he made 'em stop de beatin'. He say, 'De Lord rule Heb'en, but Jim Smith
ruled de earth.'
"One time he cotched some Niggers down at de Seaboard Station, what had
runned away from his place. He got de police, an' brung 'em back 'cause
he 'lowed dey still owed him money. I wuz mighty sorry for 'em, for I
knowed what dey wuz goin' to git when he done got 'em back on his place.
Dat whippin' boss beat 'em 'til dey couldn't stan' up.
"But he wuz good to my uncle, an' treated him just lak one of de fambly.
He helped him wid all his sermons, an' told him to always tell 'em to be
observerant an' obejent to de boss man. He provided good fer his help
an' dey always had plenty to eat. He used to try to git me to come an'
stay wid him, but I didn't want to stay on dat place.
"Marse Jim used to have big 'possum hunts for his Niggers, an' he would
sen' me word, an' I most always went, 'cause dem wuz good times den,
when dey cooked de coons an' 'possums, an' eat an' drunk mos' of de
night. Coon meat is most as good as lamb if you is careful to take out
de musk sacs when you dress 'em to cook."
Smithsonia, the Jim Smith plantation, covered thousands of acres, but
the words of the feeble old Negro showed that he could not imagine it
possible for any farmer to own more than one hundred acres.
"Marse Jim had a hund'ud acre farm, an' he had to keep plenty of Niggers
to look atter dat place, but I wuz 'fraid to go dar to stay, for it wuz
sho' just lak de jailhouse.
"Dey ain't but four of our nine chilluns livin' now an' dey's all up
Nawf. Dey done sont atter me when deir ma died, an' tried to git me to
stay wid 'em, but its too cold up dar for dis old Nigger, so I just
stays on here by myself. It don't take much for me to live on. In crop
times I wuks in de fiel' a choppin' cotton, an' I picks cotton too. I'll
just wait on here an' de waitin' won't be much longer, 'cause I'se a
living right, an', 'Praise de Lawd,' I'se a gwine to Heb'en w'en I
die."
Mary A. Crawford
Re-search Worker
Laura Hood
Ex-Slave
Laura was born in Griffin December 23, 1850 on Mr. Henry Bank's place.
Her mother, Sylvia Banks (called "Cely Ann" by the darkies) married her
father, Joe Brawner, a carpenter, who was owned by Mr. Henry Brawner.
Joe and Sylvia were married in Mr. Henry Bank's parlor by this white
preacher.
Mr. Banks, Laura's master, owned a tannery in Griffin and had "around
fifty slaves" according to Laura's memory. Most of the slaves worked at
the tannery, the others at Mr. Bank's home. Laura's mother was the cook
in the Bank's home for over forty years. Joe, Laura's father, was a
carpenter and the four little darkies of the family helped about the
house and yard doing such work as feeding the chickens, sweeping the
yards and waiting on the Mistress. Laura, herself was a "house girl",
that is, she made the beds, swept the floors and sewed and helped the
Mistress do the mending for the family.
When asked if the Master and Mistress were good to the slaves, Laura
replied that they certainly were, adding, "Marse Henry was as good a man
as ever put a pair of pants on his legs." As to the punishments used by
the Banks, Laura was almost indignant at such a question, saying that
Marse Henry never whipped or punished his darkies in any way, that he
did not believe in it. The only whipping that Laura herself ever had was
one lick across the shoulders with a small switch used by her Mistress
to keep her mother, Celie Ann, from whipping her.
Laura relates that the darkies worked all the time except Sunday. On
Sunday they could do as they pleased so long as they went to church. All
the Bank's darkies attended service in the "cellar" (basement) of the
First Baptist Church and had a colored preacher.
When any of the darkies were sick if 'ole Marster' and 'ole Miss' could
not "set them straight" they called in "ole Marse's" white doctor.
Mr. Banks, himself, was too old "to fight the Yankees" but young 'Marse
Henry' fought but did not "get a scratch" and when he came home all of
them were sure glad to see him.
"After freedom, when 'ole Mars' was gone, 'young Marster' was as good as
gold to all the darkies." Laura can remember when he gave her $5.00 to
$20.00 at a time."
She also recalls that when the slaves were freed that her ole Marse
called all of the darkies around him out in the yard and told them that
they were as free as he was and could leave if they wanted to, but if
they would stay 'till Christmas and help him that he would pay them
wages. All of them stayed except one Negro named "Big John" who left
with a bunch of Yankees that came along soon after.
As to what happened at the Bank's home when the Yankees came through,
Laura does not remember, but she does recall that the Banks family
"refugeed to Florida to get out of the path of the Yankees."
"No, mam," said Laura in reply to the question "Did your master have his
slaves taught to read and write?" "We never had any school of any kind
on the Bank's place. 'Marse Henry did not believe we needed that."
Laura has lived in her present home since 1867 and recalls when Griffin
was "mostly a big woods full of paths here and there." She recalls the
"auction block" which was on or near the site of the present Court
House.
The old woman is very feeble, in fact, unable to walk but is cared for
by a niece.
Laura Pood
432 E. Solomon Street
Griffin, Georgia
September 23, 1936
PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by Ex-Slave
CARRIE HUDSON
258 Lyndon Avenue
Athens, Georgia.
Written by: Sadie B. Hornsby
Athens --
Edited by: Sarah H. Hall
Athens --
Leila Harris
Augusta --
and
John N. Booth
District Supervisor
Federal Writers' Project
Residencies 6 & 7.
CARRIE HUDSON
Ex-Slave--Age 75
Carrie was asked to relate her memories of childhood days on the old
plantation. "I'se done most forgot 'bout dem days," she replied, "but if
you ax me some questions hit mought come back to me. Hit's such a fur
way back dat I don't never think 'bout dem times no more." After a few
reminders, the old Negress began eagerly volunteering her recollections.
"Slave traders fotched my Pa, he was Phil Rucker, f'um Richmond,
Virginny, and sold him to Marse Joe Squire Rucker. Ma, she was Frances
Rucker, was borned on Marse Joe's place nigh Ruckersville, up in Elbert
County, and all 10 of us chilluns was born on dat plantation too. Hester
Ann, Loke Ann, Elizabeth, Mary, Minnie Bright, Dawson, Ant'ony, Squire
and Philip was my sisters and brothers. Grandma Bessie done de cookin'
at de big house. Grandpa Ant'ony had done died long 'fore I got big
enough to know nothin' 'bout him.
"Miss, chilluns what was knee high to a duck had to wuk. 'Til dey was
big and strong enough for field wuk, little Niggers done all sorts of
piddlin' jobs. Dey toted water to de big house and to de hands in de
fields, fotched in chips and wood, and watched de cows. Me? I nussed
most of de time. If dere was any money give out for slaves' wuk de grown
folkses got it all, for I never seed none and I never heared 'bout no
Niggers gittin' none in slavery times.
"Us lived in log cabins scattered 'round de plantation. De biggest of
'em had two rooms and evvy cabin had a chimbly made out of sticks and
red mud. Most of de chillun slept on pallets on de floor, but I slept
wid my Pa and Ma 'cause I was so pettish. Most of de beds was made out
of poles, dis a-way: Dey bored two holes in de wall, wide apart as dey
wanted de bed, and in dese holes dey stuck one end of de poles what was
de side pieces. Dey sharpened de ends of two more poles and driv' 'em in
de floor for de foot pieces and fastened de side pieces to 'em. Planks
was put acrost dis frame to hold a coarse cloth tick filled wid wheat
straw. Ma had a ruffle, what was called a foot bouncer, 'round de foot
of her bed. Beds up at de big house was a sight to see. Dey had high
posties and curtains over de top and 'round de bottom of deir beds. Dem
beds at de big house was so high dey had steps to walk up so dey could
git in 'em. Oh, dey was pretty, all kivvered over wid bob' net to keep
flies and skeeters off de white folkses whilst dey slept!
"Warn't nothin' short 'bout de eats. Our white folkses b'lieved in good
eatin's. Dey give us bread and meat wid all de cabbage, colla'd and
turnip greens us wanted, and us had 'matoes, 'tatoes, chickens and
ducks. Yessum, and dere allus was plenty 'possums and rabbits cooked
'bout lak dey is now, only dere warn't no stoves in dem days. Pots for
biling swung on racks dey called cranes, over de coals in big open
fireplaces. Baking was done in ovens and skillets. Dere was allus lots
of fishes in season, but I didn't do none of de fishin', 'cause I was
too skeered of de water when I was a chap.
"All de cloth for our clothes was wove in de loom room up at de big
house. Little gal's dresses was made just lak deir Ma's, wid full skirts
gathered on to plain, close fittin' waisties. Little boys just wore
shirts. Didn't no chillun wear but one piece of clothes in summer.
Winter time us wore de same only dey give us a warm underskirt, and
rough red brogan shoes. Didn't no Niggers wear shoes in warm weather
durin' slavery times.
"Marse Joe Squire Rucker was de fust Marster of our plantation. Atter
him and Miss Peggy done died, his son, Marse Elbert Rucker tuk up where
his Pa left off. I can't call to mind nothin' 'bout Marse Joe and Miss
Peggy 'cept what old folkses told me long atter dey done died, but I
does 'member Marse Elbert and Miss Sallie and dey was just as good to us
as dey could be. De onliest ones of dier chilluns I ricollects now is
Miss Bessie, Miss Cora and Marsters Joe, Guy, Marion and Early. Dey all
lived in a big fine house sot back f'um de road a piece.
"Marse Elbert's overseer was a Mr. Alderman. He got de slaves up early
in de mornin' and it was black night 'fore he fotched 'em in. Marse
Elbert didn't 'low nobody to lay hands on his Niggers but his own self.
If any whuppin' had to be done, he done it.
"My brother, Squire, was de carriage driver and he was all time
a-drivin' our white folkses to Ruckersville, and sometimes he driv' 'em
far as Anderson, South Callina.
"To tell de truth, Missy, I don't know how many acres was in dat big old
plantation. Dere just ain't no tellin'. Niggers was scattered over dat
great big place lak flies. When dey come in f'um de fields at night, dem
slaves was glad to just go to sleep and rest.
"Dey didn't do no field wuk atter dinner on Saddays. De 'omans washed,
ironed and cleaned up deir cabins, while de mens piddled 'roun' and got
de tools and harness and things lak dat ready for de next week's wuk.
"I heared 'em say dere was a jail at Ruckersville, but so far as I knows
dere warn't no slaves ever put in jail. Niggers didn't have no chance to
git in devilment, 'cause de overseers and patterollers kep' close atter
'em all de time, and slaves what stepped aside allus got a whuppin'.
Dere warn't no time for to larn readin' and writin' on Marse Elbert's
plantation. Dem slaves knowed what a Bible was but dey sho' couldn't
read de fust line. Us went to white folkses church on Sundays, and while
I never tuk in none of dem songs us sung, I sho'ly do ricollect moughty
well how de Reverend Duncan would come down on dat preachin'.
"Lordy, Miss! Dere you is a-axing me 'bout folkses dyin', and I'se nigh
dead myself! Brother 'lisha done prophesied you was a-comin' here for to
write a jedgment, and hit makes me feel right creepy. Anyhow I seed a
heaps of folkses died out and git put in dem home-made coffins what was
black as sin. I sho' is glad dey done changed de color of coffins. I
'members how us used to holler and cry when dey come to de part of de
fun'ral whar dey sung: 'Hark F'um De Tomb, A Doleful Sound.'
"Dere was a heap of baptizin's dem days and I went to most all of 'em,
but I sho' warn't baptized 'til long atter I got grown, 'cause I was so
skeered of de water. I kin see dem folkses now, a-marchin' down to de
crick, back of de church, and all de can-i-dates dressed in de whites'
white clothes, what was de style den. Evvybody jined in de singin', and
de words was lak dis:
'Marchin' for de water
For to be baptized.
De Lord done lit de candle
On de other side
For to see his chilluns
When dey gits baptized.'
"Niggers on Marse Elbert's place never knowed nothin' 'bout no North; if
dey did dey wouldn't tell it to chilluns little as I was den. Dere was
some sort of uprisin' a good piece f'um Ruckersville, but I can't tell
you 'bout it 'cause I just heared de old folkses do a little talkin',
what warn't enough to larn de whole tale. Chillun back dar didn't jine
in de old folkses business lak dey does now.
"Sadday nights de young folkses picked de banjo, danced and cut de buck
'til long atter midnight, but Christmas times was when chilluns had deir
bestes' good times. Marse Elbert 'ranged to have hog killin' close
enough to Christmas so dere would be plenty of fresh meat, and dere was
heaps of good chickens, tukkeys, cake, candies, and just evvything good.
En durin' de Christmas, slaves visited 'roun' f'um house to house, but
New Year's Day was wuk time again, and dere was allus plenty to do on
dat plantation. Most all de Niggers loved to go to dem cornshuckin's,
'cause atter de corn was all shucked dey give 'em big suppers and let
'em dance. De cotton pickin's was on nights when de moon was extra
bright 'cause dey couldn't do much lightin' up a big cotton field wid
torches lak dey did de places where dey had de cornshuckin's. Atter
cornshuckin's, dey mought be dancin' by de light of torches, but us
danced in de moonlight when de cotton was picked and de prize done been
give out to de slave what picked de most. Logrollin's was de most fun of
all. De men and 'omans would roll dem logs and sing and dey give 'em
plenty of good eats, and whiskey by de kegs, at logrollin's. De
Marsters, dey planned de cornshuckin's, and cotton pickin's, and
logrollin's and pervided de eats and liquor, but de quiltin' parties
b'longed to de slaves. Dey 'ranged 'em deir own selfs and done deir own
'vitin' and fixed up deir own eats, but most of de Marsters would let
'em have a little somepin' extra lak brown sugar or 'lasses and some
liquor. De quiltin's was in de cabins, and dey allus had 'em in winter
when dare warn't no field wuk. Dey would quilt a while and stop to eat
apple pies, peach pies, and other good things and drink a little liquor.
"Us had to tote water and nuss chillun 'stid of playin' no games. Us
didn't know nothin' 'bout ghosties, hants, and sich lak. Our white
folkses would whup a Nigger for skeerin' us chillun quick as anything.
Dey didn't 'low none of dat. De onliest ghost I'se ever seed was just
t'other day. I seed somebody pass my door. I hollered out: 'Who dat?'
Dey didn't say nothin'. Brother 'Lisha here said it was a sperrit
passin' by. He must be right, 'cause whoever it was, dey didn't say
nothin' 'tall.
"Marse Elbert and Miss Sallie was sho' moughty good when deir Niggers
tuk sick. Castor oil and turpentine was what dey give 'em most of de
time. Horehound tea was for colds, and elderberry tea was to help babies
teethe easier. Yessum, us wore beads, but dey was just to look pretty.
"All I knows 'bout how come us was sot free is dat folkses said Mr.
Jefferson Davis and Mr. Abraham Lincoln got to fightin' 'bout us, and
Mr. Lincoln's side got de best of Mr. Davis' side in de quarrel. De day
dey told us dat us was free dere was a white man named Mr. Bruce, what
axed: 'What you say?' Dey told him 'gain dat all de Niggers was free. He
bent hisself over, and never did straighten his body no more. When he
died, he was still all bent over. Mr. Bruce done dis to sho' de world
how he hated to give his Niggers up atter dey done been sot free.
"When dem Yankees come thoo' dey stole evvything dey could take off wid
'em. Dey tuk Sue, my brother's nice hoss, and left him a old poor
bag-of-bones hoss. Us stayed on wid our white folkses a long time atter
de War.
"Edwin Jones was my fust husband and I wore a pretty dove colored dress
at our weddin'. Jenny Ann was our onliest child. All but one of our
eight grandchillun is all livin' now, and I'se got 24 great
grandchillun. Atter Edwin died, I married dis here Charlie Hudson what
I'se livin' wid now. Us didn't have no big weddin' and tain't long since
us got married. Me and Charlie ain't got no chillun.
"I jined de church 'cause I got 'ligion and I knows de good Lord done
forgive my sins. Evvybody ought to git 'ligion and hold it and jine de
church.
"De way us is a havin' to live now is pretty bad 'cause us is both too
old to wuk. Don't give me dem slavery days no more 'cause I would have
to wuk anyhow if I was a slave again! Us couldn't set 'roun' and smoke
our pipes and do as us please. I'd ruther have it lak it is now.
"I can't 'member no more to tell you, but I sho' has 'joyed dis talk.
Yessum, dem days was a fur piece back."
PLANTATION LIFE as viewed by Ex-Slave
[TR: date stamp: MAY 28 1938]
CHARLIE HUDSON
258 Lyndon Avenue
Athens, Georgia
Written by: Sadie B. Hornsby
Athens --
Edited by: Sarah H. Hall
Athens --
Leila Harris
Augusta --
and
John N. Booth
District Supervisor
Federal Writers' Project
Res. 6 & 7.
Augusta, Ga.
CHARLIE HUDSON =Ex-Slave--Age 80.=
Charlie listened with eager interest to the story related by Carrie, his
wife, and frequent smiles played over his wrinkled black face as her
reminiscences awakened memories of younger days. His delight was evident
when the interviewer suggested that he tell his own impressions of
slavery and the period following the War between the States.
"Miss," he said, "I been takin' in what de old 'oman done told you. Dat
was de beginnin' way back yonder and de end is nigh. Soon dere won't be
nobody left livin' what was a sho' 'nough slave. It's somepin' to think
about, ain't it?
"Anyhow, I was born March 27, 1858 in Elbert County. Ma lived on de Bell
plantation and Marse Matt Hudson owned my Pa and kept him on de Hudson
place. Dere was seben of us chillun. Will, Bynam, John and me was de
boys, and de gals was Amanda, Liza Ann, and Gussie. 'Til us was big
enough to wuk, us played 'round de house 'bout lak chillun does dese
days.
"Slave quarters was laid out lak streets. Us lived in log cabins. Beds?
Dey was jus' makeshift beds, what was made out of pine poles. De side of
de house was de head of de beds. De side rails was sharpened at both
ends and driv' in holes in de walls and foot posties. Den dey put boards
'cross de side rails for de mattresses to lay on. De coarse cloth bed
ticks was filled wid 'Georgy feathers.' Don't you know what Georgy
feathers was? Wheat straw was Georgy feathers. Our kivver was sheets and
plenty of good warm quilts. Now dat was at our own quarters on Marse
David Bell's plantation.
"Didn't evvybody have as good places to sleep as us. I 'members a white
fambly named Sims what lived in Flatwoods. Dey was de porest white folks
I ever seed. Dey had a big drove of chillun and deir Pa never wukked a
lick in his life--He jus' lived on other folkses' labors. Deir little
log cabin had a partition in it, and 'hind dat partition dere warn't a
stitch of nothin'. Dey didn't have no floor but de ground, and back
'hind dat partition was dug out a little deeper dan in de rest of de
house. Dey filled dat place wid leaves and dat's whar all de chilluns
slept. Evvy day Miss Sallie made 'em take out de leaves what dey had
slep' on de night before and fill de dugout wid fresh leaves. On de
other side of de partition, Miss Sallie and her old man slept 'long wid
deir hog, and hoss, and cow, and dat was whar dey cooked and et too. I
ain't never gwine to forgit dem white folks.
"My grandma Patsy, Pappy's Ma, knocked 'round lookin' atter de sheep and
hogs, close to de house, 'cause she was too old for field wuk. Ma's
Mammy was my grandma Rose. Her job was drivin' de oxcart to haul in wood
from de new grounds and to take wheat and corn to mill and fetch back
good old home-made flour and meal. I never did hear nothin' 'bout my
grandpas. Ma done de cookin' for de white folks.
"I don't know if I was no pet, but I did stay up at de big house most of
de time, and one thing I loved to do up dar was to follow Miss Betsy
'round totin' her sewin' basket. When wuk got tight and hot in crop
time, I helped de other chillun tote water to de hands. De bucket would
slamp 'gainst my laigs all along de way, and most of de water would be
done splashed out 'fore I got to de field.
"Marse David and his fambly most allus sont deir notes and messages by
me and another yearlin' boy what was 'lowed to lay 'round de big house
yard so us would be handy to wait on our white folks. Dey give you de
note what dey done writ, and dey say: 'Boy, if you lose dis note, you'll
git a whuppin'! All de time you was carryin' dem notes you had your
whuppin' in your hand and didn't know it, lessen you lost de note. I
never heared of no trouble to 'mount to nothin' twixt white folks and
Niggers in our settlement.
"Us et good, not much diff'unt f'um what us does now. Most times it was
meat and bread wid turnip greens, lye hominy, milk, and butter. All our
cookin' was done on open fireplaces. Oh! I was fond of 'possums,
sprinkled wid butter and pepper, and baked down 'til de gravy was good
and brown. You was lucky if you got to eat 'possum and gnaw de bones
atter my Ma done cooked it.
"Dey cotch rabbits wid dogs. Now and den, a crowd of Niggers would jump
a rabbit when no dogs was 'round. Dey would tho' rocks at him and run
him in a hollow log. Den dey would twiss him out wid hickory wisps
(withes). Sometimes dere warn't no fur left on de rabbit time dey got
him twisted out, but dat was all right. Dey jus' slapped him over daid
and tuk him on to de cabin to be cooked. Rabbits was most gen'ally
fried.
"Grown boys didn't want us chillun goin' 'long 'possum huntin' wid 'em,
so all right, dey tuk us way off crost de fields 'til dey found a good
thick clump of bushes, and den dey would holler out dat dere was some
moughty fine snipes 'round dar. Dey made us hold de poke (bag) open so
de snipes could run in. Den dey blowed out deir light'ood knot torches,
and left us chillun holdin' de poke whilst dey went on huntin' 'possums.
"Atter dinner Saddays all of us tuk our hooks, poles, and lines down to
Dry Fork Crick, when it was de right time of de year to fish. Sometimes
dey stewed fish for old folkses to eat, but young folkses loved 'em
fried best.