"signs" proved true. Superstition, however, had a strong grip on slave
life. A fellow slave named Andy was a seasoned runaway and the overseer
usually set the hounds after him. (Going to a fortune teller Andy
secured a "hound" which caused all dogs to be friendly with him. There
after when the hounds were set upon him, he played with them, turned
their ears inside out, and sent them back to their owner.)
The attitude of the slaves toward freedom varied and as they were not
allowed to discuss it, their hope was veiled in such expressions as the
"LORD will provide". Some were even afraid to settle any statement and
silently prayed that their release would come soon. Some feared that
something might prevent their emancipation so they ran away and joined
the Yankee Army, hoping to be able to destroy their former master.
During this time masters suffered as well as their slaves, for many of
their sons went gaily forth to battle and were never heard of again.
Simpson Rigerson, son of "Marse" Jesse Rigerson, was lost to his
parents. A younger son, who lost his right hand while "helping" feed
cane to a grinder, is the only member of the family now living.
Sorrow did not break this slaves group and they soon learned to sing
away their troubles. One song which gives some light on their attitude
toward the government went as follows:
I. Jeff Davis rode the gray horse
Ole Lincoln rode the mule
Jeff Davis is the gentleman
Ole Lincoln is the fool
Chorus:
I'll lay ten dollars down
I'll count it one by one.
I'll give ten dollars to know the man
Who struck Peter Butler's son.
II. I lay down in my bed
I lay down in no dread
Conscript come and took me
And dragged me from my bed.
III. I went down a new cut road
She went down the lane
I turned my back upon her
And 'long come Liza Jane.
After freedom was declared, Bryant Huff's family moved several miles
from the Rigerson plantation to one owned by an elderly woman. They ran
from a mean master but their flight was a "leap from the frying pan into
the fire", for this woman proved even worse than their former master. At
the close of the war the K.K.K. was very active and their fearful
exploits made them the terror of the slaves. A band of the latter was
organized to attempt to curb the K.K.K. activities. Neither gang knew
who was a member of the other, but their clashes were frequent. One
night the K.K.K. appeared at the Huff cabin and when admitted took the
father, an uncle, and a man named Mansfield from the house. After
forcing the father to break a gun which he had borrowed from Mr.
Rigerson, they beat him so brutally that his arm was broken. The uncle,
a minister who preached a type of doctrine that they liked, was
unharmed. Mansfield, accused of being a member of the anti-K.K.K. gang,
was beaten unmercifully. While this was being done, two members of the
gang returned to the house where they searched the back room (men slept
in the front room, the women and children in the rear) to see if any
adults were secreted there. The small boys under the bed said "Don't
harm us, we're only children". After this outrage, done at the request
of the mistress, the Huff family moved back to the Rigerson plantation.
Mr. Rigerson's harsh disposition was broken after the Civil War ended
and he repented of his severe treatment of his former slaves. Daniel
Huff whom he had despised and feared, became his best friend who nursed
him until death. Huff's wife received three acres of ground and two
houses from her former master who also gave her an apology for his past
meanness and stated that he wished to provide her with a home for life.
During this period martial law prevailed in the South. The Yankee
troops, placed in every town, were the only police present and all cases
from the county were presented to them for settlement.
A few years after emancipation, Bryant then a young man, ran away from
home and apprenticed himself to a physician who became interested in his
thirst for knowledge and gave him an opportunity to attend school.
After several years of hard study, he went before the board of examiners
in order to teach. After 2 examinations he was immediately appointed to
teach at the school where he had once been a pupil.
Huff, now on aged man, is dependent upon local relief for his
sustenance. He is able to do light work like sweeping yards and is a
very good umbrella mender and shoe repairer, but is not able to go in
search of work. He has smoked since he was a young man and has never
taken especial care of his health, so his long life may be attributed to
a strong constitution.
PLANTATION LIFE as related by Ex-Slave:
[TR: Date Stamped May 13 1938]
EASTER HUFF
125 Rockspring St.,
Athens, Georgia.
Written by: Sadie B. Hornsby
Athens, Georgia
Edited by: Sarah H. Hall
Athens --
Florence Blease
John N. Booth
Augusta, Georgia.
EASTER HUFF
=Ex-Slave--Age 80=
Easter eagerly complied with the request for the story of her life, "I
done forgot a heap I knowed, but I allus loves to talk 'bout de old
times." She declared solemnly. "Dis young race lives so fas' dey needs
to know what a hard time us had."
"I was borned in Oglethorpe County on Marse Jabe Smith's plantation. I
don't 'zactly know how old I is, but I was jus' a chap when de war
ended. Easter is my right name, but white folkses calls me Esther. Mammy
was Louisa Smith, but I don't know nothin' 'bout my gram'ma, 'cause she
died 'fore I was born, and she done de cookin' in de white folkses
house. I can't tell you nothin' 'bout neither one of my gram'pas.
"Us slep' on corded beds what had high postes and ruffled curtains
'round de foot. De beds what had curtains all 'round de top of dem high
postes was called teester beds. When all dem curtains was fresh washed
and starched, de beds sho' did look grand. Chilluns slep' on pallets on
de flo'.
"Mammy was a plow hand, but us chillun didn't do nothin' much 'cept eat
and play and sleep in de grass 'til she got in from de fiel' evvy night.
De big old cook house had a partition 'crost it, and on one side Aunt
Peggy done all de cookin' for Old Marster's household and for de slaves
too. On de udder side of de partition was de loom room whar Aunt Peggy
weaved all de cloth and Mrs. Lacy Hines, what lived on another
plantation not far f'um us, made all our clothes.
"Chilluns didn't know nothin' 'bout gittin' no money of dey own 'til
atter de war. Mammy, she made her little money knittin' socks, and
patchin' clothes at night, and she had done saved up nigh $40.00 in
Confederate money. Dey called it Confederate shucks atter de war 'cause
it warn't no good no more den, and she let us chillun play wid it. De
shin plasters was Confederate money for as low as 25 cents.
"Victuals dem days warn't fancy lak day is now, but Marstar allus seed
dat us had plenty of milk and butter, all kinds of greens for bilein',
'tatoes and peas and sich lak. Chilluns et cornbread soaked in de pot
liquor what de greens or peas done been biled in. Slaves never got much
meat. Dey mixed butter wid home-made syrup and sopped it up wid
cornbread. Dare warn't much wheat bread for slaves.
"Dere was a good 'possum hound on de plantation what was a fine rabbit
dog too, and Marster let us use him to ketch us lots of 'possums and
rabbits. De mens went seinin' at night in Buffalo Crick what run thoo'
Marse Jabe's place. Dey used to put back all de little fishes and de
turkles and tarrepins. 'Possums was baked wid sweet 'tatoes and rabbits
was parbiled in a big old open fireplace in big pots and skillets.
Marster had one big gyarden whar enough was growed for evvybody on de
whole plantation, but some of de slaves was 'lowed to have deir own
little gyardens and cotton patches what dey wukked on moonlight nights.
"De gal chillun in dem days wore little slips, and de boys had shirts
split up de sides. Dey jus' wore one piece in summer, no drawers or
nothin'. In de winter us had good warm clothes, made out of coarse
ausenburg (osnaburg) cloth. Us wore de same clothes Sundays as evvyday,
only us was s'posed to put 'em on clean on Sunday mornin'. A colored man
named Clark Dogget made our shoes out of rough red leather what never
had been dyed or colored up none. Sometimes Manuel would have to help
him wid de shoemakin'.
"On Sundays Mammy would comb my hair and put a clean dress on me, and
den take me to de white folkses' church at Salem, whar dere was two rows
of benches in de back for slaves. Rev. Brantley Calloway was de pastor,
and Rev. Patrick Butler preached too.
"I never seed no baptizin's or fun'als in slavery days, but atter
anybody was buried Mammy tuk us to de graveyard and let us look at de
grave. Dey allus put a fence made wid pine poles 'round de grave. Some
few of de slaves might have read de Bible a little, but dar warn't none
what could write.
"I jined church 'cause I was converted and had done changed my way of
livin'. I think folkses ought to be 'ligious so dey can help others to
live lak de Bible says.
"Marse Jabe Smith was a good white man. He was a grand fiddler and he
used to call us to de big house at night to dance for him. I couldn't do
nothin' 'cept jump up and down and I sho' did git tired. Marse Jabe
warn't married. He raised his brother's chillun, but dey was all grown
when de war come on.
"I done clean forgot de name of Marster's overseer and I don't ricollec'
how many acres was in dat plantation, but it sho' was a big one. Dere
was 'bout 25 grown slaves, and a lot of Nigger chillun rompin' round. De
overseer got 'em up 'bout three 'clock and dey stayed in de field 'til
sundown 'fore dey started for de house.
"When dey got f'um de fields at night, de 'omans spun, mended, and knit,
and de mens wukked in deir gyardens and cotton patches. Winter nights
dey plaited baskets and made hoss collars. All de slaves knocked off at
twelve o'clock Sadday. Dere was allus somepin' to do on Sadday
night--frolics, dances, and sich lak. Dey picked de banjo and knocked on
tin pans for music to dance by. Sunday was a rest day. Slaves visited
each other or went to church if dey wanted to, but dey had to git a
pass.
"I seed dem patterollers on hosses jus' goin' it down de big road. I
seed 'em axin' Niggers dey met if dey had passes. Attar dey looked at de
passes, dey would let 'em go on. But if a slave was cotched widout no
pass dey would beat him mos' nigh to death. If us had patterollers to
keep Niggers f'um gallivantin' 'round so much now days, dar wouldn't be
so much devilment done.
"Some of de slaves jus' had to be whupped 'cause dey wouldn't behave. On
our plantation, de overseer done de whuppin'; Marse Jabe never totched
'em. Mammy told us 'bout seein' slaves put on de block in Virginny and
sold off in droves lak hosses.
"Didn't none of Marse Jabe's Niggers run off to de North dat I knowed
'bout. One Nigger named Barlow what was too lazy to wuk in de field
slipped off to de woods and made hisself a den to live in. He made
baskets, footmats, and brooms, and used to come out at night and sell
'em. Dey said he would steal de white folkses' hogs, chickens, and jus'
anythin' he could put his hands on. If dey ever cotched him, I don't
know nothin' 'bout it. Mammy used to skeer us pretty nigh to death at
night when she wanted us to go on to bed. She said if us didn't go to
sleep Barlow sho' would git us.
"Oh! us did have a time at Chris'mas. Dey would have plenty to eat;
eggnog and all sorts of good things, and sometimes mens and 'omans got
drunk and cut up. Marse Jabe allus give us a little cheese to eat
Christmas time. On New Year's Day all de slaves went to de big house for
a council. Marse Jabe would talk to 'em and counsel 'em for de New Year
and tell 'em how to live.
"Cornshuckin's! Yassum, I ricollects cornshuckin's. De folkses comed
f'um all de plantations close 'round. Atter dey was thoo' wid shuckin'
de corn, dey gathered 'round a long table in de yard. Marse Jabe had de
prettiest level yard you ever seed; it was swept so nice and clean. De
victuals was piled on dat table, and dey give us great kegs of apple and
peach brandy.
"Mammy used to tell us 'bout Raw-head an' Bloody-bones if us didn't go
to bed when she wanted to go out. Us sho' would pile in in a hurry den,
and duck under dat kivver and most nigh die 'cause us was skeered to
look out lessen he mought be dar atter us.
"Marse Jabe was mighty good to his slaves when dey got sick. I seed
Mammy sick once. Dr. Lumpkin Landon was sont atter. De slaves would git
fever weeds and sweetgum bark, bile 'em together, and take de tea for
colds, coughs, and fever. Dey wore little sacks of assfidity
(assafoetida) 'round dey necks to keep off disease, and strung hollow
treadsass (treadsalve) roots on strings lak necklaces and hung 'em
'round de babies' necks to make 'em teethe easy.
"Soon atter de surrender, Marse Jabe told his Niggers dey was free as he
was, but dat he didn't want nary one to leave him. He wanted 'em to stay
wid him he said, and he offered to pay 'em wages. Dere warn't nary one
what left. Mammy wukked and plowed right on lak she done before. Atter I
was big enough, I went to Lexin'ton to wuk for Mrs. McWhorter.
"When I married Bob Willin'ham, I sho' had a nice weddin'. I was married
in a blue merino dress. My underskirt was white as snow wid trimmin's on
it. I wore long drawers what was trimmed fancy at de bottom. Our white
folkses give us lots of cake, turkey, ham, and sich lak for de weddin'
feast. Our only child was named Minnie, and dere was five of our
grandchillun, but dey's all dead now but two. One lives in Cincinnati,
Ohio, and I lives wid de udder one what wuks at de chapter house here.
Atter Bob died, I married Lumpkin Huff, but us didn't have no weddin'
dat time. De preacher jus' come to my house and married us. I went to
Elberton wid 'im, but he was so mean I didn't live wid 'im but eight
months before I come back to Athens.
"Dey used to have a song 'bout Mr. Lincoln when I was a little chap, but
I done forgot it. No Ma'am, I don't know nothin' 'bout Mr. Davis and
Booker Washin'ton. Dem days I never heard much 'bout folkses away off
f'um here.
"I b'lieve I'se done told you all I knows 'bout back days. I don't know
nothin' 'bout dese fas' present-day ways o' livin'. When I was a chap
and got a whuppin' and Mammy heerd 'bout it I got another one. Now dey
takes you to de law. Yes Ma'am, for myself I'd rather have de old days
wid good Old Marster to take keer of me."
PLANTATION LIFE, AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE
Written By: Miss Grace McCune
Athens --
Edited By: Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
Athens --
and
John N. Booth
District Supervisor
Federal Writers' Project
Residences No. 6 & 7
Augusta, Georgia
Sept. 21, 1938.
=Lina Hunter=
Ex-Slave, Age about 90
270 Bailey Street
Athens, Georgia
Lina Hunter's weather-beaten house nestles at the foot of a long hill,
and several large chinaberry trees furnish shade for her well-kept yard.
As the visitor hesitated before the rickety front steps someone called
from inside the house, "Chile, do be keerful on dem old steps 'cause dey
might fall wid you; dey done went through wid some of dese chillun
here."
The tall mulatto woman who came to the door had tiny plaits of white
hair that covered her head in no apparent design. Her faded print dress
was clean, and she wore badly scuffed brogan shoes several sizes too
large on her stockingless feet. In answer to an inquiry she replied:
"Dis is Lina's house, and I is Lina. Have a cheer out here on de porch,
please, mam, 'cause de gals is ironin' in de house and dem fire buckets
sho make it hot in dar."
Lina readily agreed to tell of her life in the ante-bellum period. "I
'members all 'bout slavery time," she laughed, "cause I was right dar.
Course I warn't grown-up, but I was big enough to holp Great-granny Rose
look atter all dem other slave chillun whilst deir mammies and daddies
was in de field at wuk.
"Anne and Peter Billups was my mammy and daddy, and my granddaddy and
grandmammy was Washin'ton and Tiller Billups; all of 'em belonged to Old
Marster Jack Billups. Marse Jack stayed in Athens, but his plantation,
whar I was borned and whar all my folks was borned and raised, was 'way
down in Oglethorpe County. I don't rightly know how old I is, 'cause all
Marster's old records is done got lost or 'stroyed, evvy blessed one of
'em, but I'se been here a mighty long time.
"Honey, dat old plantation was sho one big place. Back of de big house,
whar de overseer lived, was just rows and rows of slave cabins. Dey
stacked 'em up out of big logs jus' lak dey made hog-pen fences. All de
cracks 'twixt de logs was chinked up tight wid red mud and, let me tell
you, Honey, dey was keerful to lay on so much red mud over dem sticks
dat chimblies on our place never did ketch fire lak dey did on some of
de places whar dey done things sort of shiftless lak. Dem cabins had two
rooms and a shed room 'crost de back whar day done de cookin'. Two
famblies lived in evvy cabin.
"Dey allus had plenty to cook, 'cause dere was plenty of victuals raised
on Marse Jack's place. Chillun was all fed up at de big house whar Marse
Garner, de overseer, lived. Deir mammies was 'lowed to come in from de
fields in time to cook dinner for de menfolks, but dey didn't git deir
chillun back home 'til atter supper. Granny Rose had 'em all day, and
she had to see dat dey had de right sort of victuals to make chillun
grow fast and strong. Chillun et out of wooden trays, and, Honey, dey
sho was some sight; dey looked jus' lak pig troughs. Dey poured peas,
cabbage, or whatever de chillun was to eat right in dat trough on top of
a passel of cornbread. For supper chillun jus' had milk and bread, but
dere was allus plenty of it. Marse Jack had lots of cows, and old Aunt
Mary didn't have no other job but to churn enough so dere would allus be
plenty of milk and butter, 'cause Marse Jack had done said milk was good
for chillun and dat us was to have it to drink any time us wanted it.
"Evvybody cooked on fireplaces den. I jus' wish you could see dat big
old fireplace in de big house kitchen; you could stand up in it. It had
long racks clear acrost de inside for de pots what dey biled in to hang
on. Bakin' was done in thick iron skillets dat had heavy lids. You sot
'em on coals and piled more coals all over 'em. Us had somepin dat most
folks didn't have; dat was long handled muffin pans. Dey had a lid dat
fitted down tight, and you jus' turned 'em over in de fire 'til de
muffins was cooked on both sides. I had dem old muffin irons here, but
de lid got broke off and dese here boys done lost 'em diggin' in de
ground wid 'em. Dem victuals cooked on open fireplaces was mighty fine,
and I wishes you could have a chance to see jus' how nice dey was.
"Evvy kind of vegetable us knowed anything 'bout was raised right dar on
de place and dey had big old fields of corn, oats, rye, and wheat. Us
had lots of fruit trees on de plantation too. Dere warn't no runnin' off
to de store evvy time dere was a special meal to be got up. Coffee,
sugar, salt, and black pepper was de most Marse Jack had to buy in de
way of victuals. Course dey was hard to git in war times. Parched corn
and okra seed was ground together for coffee, and us had to git up dirt
under old smokehouses and bile it down for salt. Dere was allus a little
sugar 'round de sides of de syrup barr'ls, and us had to make out wid
dat hot red pepper 'til atter de war was done over a good long time,
'fore dere was any more black pepper shipped in. Spite of all dat,
Honey, dem was good old days.
"Marster raised enough cows, sheep, hogs, chickens, and turkeys for us
to have all de meat us needed. He had lots of mules and oxen too. Dey
used de mules for 'most of de plowin' and for goin' to mill, and don't
forgit it took plenty of goin' to mill to feed as many Niggers as our
Marster had. Lordy, Lady! I never knowed how many slaves he owned. Oxen
pulled dem two-wheeled carts dey hauled in de craps wid, and I has rid
to town in a ox-cart many a time. Dem old oxen was enough to make a
preacher lose his best 'ligion. Dey had a heap of mean ways, but de wust
thing dey done was to run spang down in de water evvy time dey come to a
crick. It never mattered how deep it was, and you might holler all day,
but dey warn't coming out of dat water 'till dey was good and ready. Dat
happened evvy time dey saw a crick, but dere warn't nothin' us could do
'bout it, for Marse Jack sho never 'lowed nobody to lay deir paws on his
stock.
"Folks wove all deir cloth at home dem days. Dey made up plenty of
cotton cloth for hot weather, and for de cold wintertime, dere warn't
nothin' warmer dat us knowed about dan de cloth dey made out of
home-raised wool and cotton. Marster kept a slave dat didn't have
nothin' else to do but make shoes for evvybody on de place. Yes, mam,
Honey, dey tanned de hide evvy time dey kilt a cow. Leather was tanned
wid whiteoak bark. Chillun's shoes was finished off wid brass knobs on
de toes, and us was sho mighty dressed up Niggers when us got on dem
shoes wid deir shiny knobs. Little gals' dresses was made wid long
skirts gathered on to plain waisties. Dere warn't no showin' de legs lak
dey does now. Little boys had red and black jeans suits made wid
waisties and britches sewed together in front but wid a long buttoned-up
openin' in de back. Most of de other places jus' put long shirts on
little boys, but dat warn't de way dey done on our place, 'cause us
didn't belong to no pore folks. Our Marster had plenty and he did lak to
see his Niggers fixed up nice. Course in summertime none of de chillun
didn't wear nothin' but little slips, so dey could keep cool, but in
winter it was diffunt. Honey, dem old balmoral petticoats was some
sight, but dey was sho warm as hell. I seed a piece of one of mine not
long ago whar I had done used it to patch up a old quilt. 'Omans'
dresses was made jus' about lak dis one I got on now, 'ceptin' I didn't
have enough cloth to make de skirt full as dem old-time clothes used to
be." The old woman stood up to show just how her dress was fashioned.
The skirt, sewed to a plain, close-fitting waist, was very full in the
back, but plain across the front. Lina called attention to an opening on
the left side of the front. "See here, Chile," she said, "here's a sho
'nough pocket. Jus' let me turn it wrong-side-out to show you how big it
is. Why, I used a whole 25 pound flour sack to make it 'cause I don't
lak none of dese newfangled little pockets. I lak things de way I was
raised. Dis pocket hangs down inside and nobody don't see it. De
chilluns fusses 'bout my big pocket, but it ain't in none of deir
dresses, and I'se sho gwine to wear 'em 'til dey is wore out to a gnat's
heel.
"Chillun never had to wuk on our plantation 'til dey was big enough to
go to de fields, and dat was when dey was around 12 to 14 years old. Dey
jus' played 'round de yards and down by de wash-place dat was a little
ways off from de big house on a branch dat run from de big spring. On
wash days dat was a busy place, wid lots of 'omans bending over dem
great big wash pots and de biggest old wooden tubs I ever seed. Dere was
plenty racket 'round de battlin' block whar dey beat de dirt out of de
clothes, and dey would sing long as dey was a-washin'.
"Marster was sho good to his Niggers all de time. Course he made 'em wuk
'less dey was sick. Chillun never had nothin' to do 'cept eat, sleep,
and play. Evvy time Marse Jack come out to his plantation he brung candy
for all de pickaninnies, and, Honey, it warn't in no little sacks
neither; dere was allus plenty for 'em all, and it was a mighty big
crowd of us. Marster loved to come out on Sundays to see us chillun git
our heads combed. Honey, dere sho was hollerin' on dat place when dey
started wukin' on us wid dem jim crow combs what was made lak a curry
comb 'ceppin' dey warn't quite as wide acrost. When dem jim crow combs
got stuck in dat tangled, kinky wool, damn if dem chillun didn't yell,
and Marster would laugh and tell Granny Rose to comb it good.
"Granny Rose larnt me to keep clean and fix myself up nice, and, Honey,
I ain't got too old to primp up now. One thing dis old Nigger ain't
never done is to put hair straightener on her head, 'cause de Blessed
Lord sont me here wid kinky hair, and I'se gwine 'way from here wid dat
same old kinky hair. It's white now, but dat ain't no fault of mine.
Honey, I sho do trust dat Good Lord. Why, I 'member when I used to pull
out my own teeth; I jus' tied a string 'round 'em, laid down on my bed,
and said, 'Lord, I is in your hands,' and den I would give dat string a
hard yank and out come dem damn teeth.