present. After the war Dr. Rose went back to England. He said he
couldn't stay in a country with so many free Negroes. Then his son Dr.
Arthur Barnwell Rose had the plantation. Those was good white people,
good white people.
"The colored people were given their rations once a week, on Monday,
they got corn, and a quart of molasses, and three pounds of bacon, and
sometimes meat and peas. They had all the vegetables they wanted; they
grew them in the gardens. When the boats first came in from Africa with
the slaves, a big pot of peas was cooked and the people ate it with
their hands right from the pot. The slaves on the plantation went to
meeting two nights a week and on Sunday they went to Church, where they
had a white preacher Dr. Rose hired to preach to them.
"After the war when we came back to Charleston I went to work as a
chimney-sweep. I was seven years old then. They paid me ten cents a
story. If a house had two stories I got twenty cents; if it had three
stories I got thirty cents. When I got too big to go up the chimneys I
went back to Rose plantation. My father was still overseer or driver. I
drove a cart and plowed. Afterwards I worked in the phosphate mines,
then came back here to take care of the garden and be caretaker. I
planted all these Cherokee roses you see round here, and I had a big
lawn of Charleston grass. I aint able to keep it like I used to."
Henry is intensely religious. He says "the people don't notice God now
because they're free." "Some people say there aint no hell," he
continued, "but I think there must be some kind of place like that,
because you got to go some place when you leave this earth, and you got
to go to the master that you served when you were here. If you serve God
and obey His commandments then you go to Him, but if you don't pay any
attention to what he tells you in His Book, just do as you choose and
serve the devil, then you got to go to him. And it don't make any
difference if you're poor or rich, it don't matter what the milliner
(millionaire) man says."
He seemed so proud of his garden, with its broad view across the Ashley
River, showing his black walnut, pear and persimmon trees, grape vines
and roses, that the writer said, "Henry, you know a poet has said that
we are nearer God in the garden than anywhere else on earth." "Well
ma'am, you see," he replied, with a winning smile, "that's where God put
us in the first place."
Project #1655
Augustus Ladson
Charleston, S. C.
EX-SLAVE BORN 1857
GRAND PARENTS CAME DIRECTLY FROM AFRICA
I was nickname' durin' the days of slavery. My name was Henry but they
call' me Toby. My sister, Josephine, too was nickname' an' call' Jessee.
Our mistress had a cousin by that name. My oldes' bredder was a Sergeant
on the Charleston Police Force around 1868. I had two other sister',
Louise an' Rebecca.
My firs' owner was Arthur Barnwell Rose. Then Colonel A. G. Rhodes
bought the plantation who sol' it to Capen Frederick W. Wagener. James
Sottile then got in possession who sol' it to the DeCostas, an' a few
weeks ago Mrs. Albert Callitin Simms, who I'm tol' is a former member of
Congress, bought it. Now I'm wonderin' if she is goin' to le' me stay. I
hope so 'cus I'm ol' now en can't work.
My pa was name' Abraham Brown; he was bo'n on Coals Islan' in Beaufort
County. Colonel Rhodes bought him for his driver, then he move here. I
didn't know much 'bout him; he didn't live so long afta slavery 'cus he
was ol.
Colonel Rhodes had a son an' a daughter. The son went back to England
afta his death an' the daughter went to Germany with her husban'. They
ain't never come back so the place was sol' for tax.
Durin' the war we was carry to Deer Pond, twelve miles on dis side of
Columbia. W'en the war was end' pa brought my sister, Louise, Rebecca,
who was too small to work, Josephine an' me, home. All my people is
long-lifted. My grand pa an' grand ma on pa side come right from Africa.
They was stolen an' brought here. They use to tell us of how white men
had pretty cloth on boats which they was to exchange for some of their
o'nament'. W'en they take the o'nament' to the boat they was carry way
down to the bottom an' was lock' in. They was anchored on or near
Sullivan's Islan' w'ere they been feed like dogs. A big pot was use' for
cookin'. In that pot peas was cook' an' lef' to cool. Everybody went to
the pot with the han's an' all eat frum the pot.
I was bo'n two years before the war an' was seven w'en it end. That was
in 1857. I never went to school but five months in my life, but could
learn easy. Very seldom I had to be tol' to do the same thing twice.
The slaves had a plenty o' vegetables all the time. Master planted t'ree
acres jus' for the slaves which was attended to in the mornin's before
tas' time. All provision was made as to the distribution on Monday
evenin's afta tas'.
My master had two place: one on Big Islan' an' on Coals Islan' in
Beaufort County. He didn't have any overseer. My pa was his driver.
Pa say this place was given to Mr. Rhodes with a thousand acres of lan'
by England. But it dwindled to thirty-five w'en the other was taken back
by England.
There wasn't but ten slaves on this plantation. The driver call' the
slaves at four so they could git their breakfas'. They always work the
garden firs' an' at seven go in the co'n an' cotton fiel'. Some finish
their tas' by twelve an' others work' 'til seven but had the tas' to
finish. No one was whip' 'less he needed it; no one else could whip
master' slaves. He wouldn't stan' for it. We had it better then than now
'cause white men lynch an' burn now an' do other things they couldn't do
then. They shoot you down like dogs now, an' nothin' said or done.
No slave was suppose' to be whip' in Charleston except at the Sugar
House. There was a jail for whites, but if a slave ran away an' got
there he could disown his master an' the state wouldn't le' him take
you.
All collud people has to have a pass w'en they went travelin'; free as
well as slaves. If one didn't the patrollers, who was hired by rich
white men would give you a good whippin' an' sen' you back home. My pa
didn't need any one to write his pass 'cause he could write as well as
master. How he got his education, I didn't know.
Sat'day was a workin' day but the tas' was much shorter then other days.
Men didn't have time to frolic 'cause they had to fin' food for the
fambly; master never give 'nough to las' the whole week. A peck o' co'n,
t'ree pound o' beacon, quart o' molasses, a quart o' salt, an' a pack o'
tobacco was given the men. The wife got the same thing but chillun
accordin' to age. Only one holiday slaves had an' that was Christmas.
Co'nshuckin' parties was conducted by a group of fa'mers who take their
slaves or sen' them to the neighborin' ones 'til all the co'n was
shuck'. Each one would furnish food 'nough for all slaves at his party.
Some use to have nothin' but bake potatas an' some kind of vegetable.
An unmarried young man was call' a half-han'. W'en he want to marry he
jus' went to master an' say there's a gal he would like to have for
wife. Master would say yes an' that night more chicken would be fry an'
everything eatable would be prepare at master' expense. The couple went
home afta the supper, without any readin' of matrimony, man an' wife.
A man once married his ma en' didn't know it. He was sell from her w'en
'bout eight years old. When he grow to a young men, slavery then was
over, he met this woman who he like' an' so they were married. They was
married a month w'en one night they started to tell of their experiences
an' how many times they was sol'. The husban' tol' how he was sol' from
his mother who liked him dearly. He tol' how his ma faint' w'en they
took him away an' how his master then use to bran' his baby slaves at a
year ol'. W'en he showed her the bran' she faint' 'cause she then
realize' that she had married her son.
Slaves didn't have to use their own remedy for sickness for good doctors
been hired to look at them. There was, as is, though, some weed use for
fever an' headache as: blacksnake root, furrywork, jimpsin weed, one
that tie' on the head which bring sweat from you like hail, an' hickory
leaf. If the hickory is keep on the head too long it will blister it.
W'en the war was fightin' the white men burn the bridge at the foot of
Spring Street so the Yankees couldn't git over but they buil' pontoos
while some make the horses swim 'cross. One night while at Deer Pond, I
hear something like thunder until 'bout eleven the next day. W'en the
thing I t'ought was thunder stop', master tell us that evenin' we was
free. I wasn't surprise to know for as little as I was I know the
Yankees was goin' to free us with the help of God.
I was married twice, an' had two gals an' a boy with firs' wife. I have
t'ree boys with the second; the younges' is jus' eight.
Lincoln did jus' what God inten' him to do, but I think nothin' 'bout
Calhoun on 'account of what he say in one of his speech 'bout collud
people. He said: "keep the niggers down."
To see collud boys goin' 'round now with paper an' pencil in their han's
don't look real to me. Durin' slavery he would be whip' 'til not a skin
was lef' on his body.
My pa was a preacher why I become a Christian so early; he preach' on
the plantation to the slaves. On Sunday the slaves went to the white
church. He use to tell us of hell an' how hot it is. I was so 'fraid of
hell 'til I was always tryin' to do the right thing so I couldn't go to
that terrible place.
I don't care 'bout this worl' an' its vanities 'cause the Great Day is
comin' w'en I shall lay down an' my stammerin' tongue goin' to lie
silent in my head. I want a house not made with han's but eternal in the
Heavens. That Man up there, is all I need; I'm goin' to still trus' Him.
Before the comin' of Chris' men was kill' for His name sake; today they
curse Him. It's nearly time for the world to come to en' for He said
"bout two thousand years I shall come again" an' that time is fas'
approachin'.
Source
Interview with Henry Brown, 637 Grove Street. He is much concerned with
the Scottsboro Case and discusses the invasion of Italy into defenseless
Ethiopia intelligently.
Project #1655
W. W. Dixon,
Winnsboro, S. C.
JOHN C. BROWN AND ADELINE BROWN
EX-SLAVES 86 YEARS AND 96 YEARS OLD.
John C. Brown and his wife, Adeline, who is eleven years older than
himself, live in a ramshackle four-room frame house in the midst of a
cotton field, six miles west of Woodward, S. C. John assisted in laying
the foundation and building the house forty-four years ago. A single
china-berry tree, gnarled but stately, adds to, rather than detracts
from, the loneliness of the dilapidated house. The premises and
thereabout are owned by the Federal Land Bank. The occupants pay no
rent. Neither of them are able to work. They have been fed by charity
and the W. P. A. for the past eighteen months.
(John talking)
"Where and when I born? Well, dat'll take some 'hear say', Mister. I
never knowed my mammy. They say she was a white lady dat visited my old
marster and mistress. Dat I was found in a basket, dressed in nice baby
clothes, on de railroad track at Dawkins, S. C. De engineer stop de
train, got out, and found me sumpin' like de princess found Moses, but
not in de bulrushes. Him turn me over to de conductor. De conductor
carry me to de station at Dawkins, where Marse Tom Dawkins come to meet
de train dat mornin' and claim me as found on his land. Him say him had
de best right to me. De conductor didn't 'ject to dat. Marse Tom carry
me home and give me to Miss Betsy. Dat was his wife and my mistress. Her
always say dat Sheton Brown was my father. He was one of de slaves on de
place; de carriage driver. After freedom he tell me he was my real
pappy. Him took de name of Brown and dat's what I go by.
"My father was a ginger-bread colored man, not a full-blooded nigger.
Dat's how I is altogether yallow. See dat lady over dere in dat chair?
Dat's my wife. Her brighter skinned than I is. How come dat? Her daddy
was a full-blooded Irishman. He come over here from Ireland and was
overseer for Marse Bob Clowney. He took a fancy for Adeline's mammy, a
bright 'latto gal slave on de place. White women in them days looked
down on overseers as poor white trash. Him couldn't git a white wife but
made de best of it by puttin' in his spare time a honeyin' 'round
Adeline's mammy. Marse Bob stuck to him, and never 'jected to it.
"When de war come on, Marse Richard, de overseer, shoulder his gun as a
soldier and, as him was educated more than most of de white folks, him
rise to be captain in de Confederate Army. It's a pity him got kilt in
dat war.
"My marster, Tom Dawkins, have a fine mansion. He owned all de land
'round Dawkins and had 'bout 200 slaves, dat lived in good houses and
was we well fed. My pappy was de man dat run de mill and grind de wheat
and corn into flour and meal. Him never work in de field. He was 'bove
dat. Him 'tend to de ginnin' of de cotton and drive de carriage.
"De Yankees come and burn de mansion, de gin-house and de mill. They
take all de sheep, mules, cows, hogs and even de chickens. Set de slaves
free and us niggers have a hard time ever since.
"My black stepmammy was so mean to me dat I run away. I didn't know
where to go but landed up, one night, at Adeline's mammy's and
steppappy's house, on Marse Bob Clowney's place. They had been slaves of
Marse Bob and was livin' and workin' for him. I knock on de door. Mammy
Charity, dat's Adeline's mammy, say: 'Who dat?' I say: 'Me'. Her say:
'Who is me?' I say: 'John'. Her say: 'John who?' I say: 'Just John'. Her
say: 'Adeline, open de door, dat's just some poor boy dat's cold and
hungry. Charity is my fust name. Your pappy ain't come yet but I'll let
dat boy in 'til he come and see what he can do 'bout it.'
"When Adeline open dat door, I look her in de eyes. Her eyes melt
towards me wid a look I never see befo' nor since. Mind you, I was just
a boy fourteen, I 'spects, and her a woman twenty-five then. Her say:
'You darlin' little fellow; come right in to de fire.' Oh, my! She took
on over me! Us wait 'til her pappy come in. Then him say: 'What us gonna
do wid him?' Adeline say: 'Us gonna keep him.' Pappy say: 'Where he
gonna sleep?' Adeline look funny. Mammy say: 'Us'll fix him a pallet by
de fire.' Adeline clap her hands and say: 'You don't mind dat, does you
boy?' I say: 'No ma'am, I is slept dat way many a time.'
"Well, I work for Marse Bob Clowney and stayed wid Adeline's folks two
years. I sure made myself useful in dat family. Never 'spicioned what
Adeline had in her head, 'til one day I climbed up a hickory nut tree,
flail de nuts down, come down and was helpin' to pick them up when she
bump her head 'ginst mine and say: 'Oh, Lordy!' Then I pat and rub her
head and it come over me what was in dat head! Us went to de house and
her told de folks dat us gwine to marry.
"Her led me to de altar dat nex' Sunday. Gived her name to de preacher
as Adeline Cabean. I give de name of John Clowney Brown. Marse Bob was
dere and laugh when de preacher call my name, 'John Clowney Brown'.
"Our chillun come pretty fast. I was workin' for $45.00 a year, wid
rations. Us had three pounds of bacon, a peck of meal, two cups of
flour, one quart of 'lasses, and one cup of salt, a week.
"Us never left Marse Robert as long as him lived. When us have four
chillun, him increase de amount of flour to four cups and de 'lasses to
two quarts. Then him built dis house for de old folks and Adeline and de
chillun to live in. I help to build it forty-four years ago. Our chillun
was Clarice, Jim, John, Charity, Tom, Richard, and Adeline.
"I followed Marse Robert Clowney in politics, wore a red shirt, and
voted for him to go to de Legislature. Him was 'lected dat time but
never cared for it no more.
"Adeline b'long to de church. Always after me to jine but I can't
believe dere is anything to it, though I believes in de law and de Ten
Commandments. Preacher calls me a infidel. Can't help it. They is maybe
got me figured out wrong. I believes in a Great Spirit but, in my time,
I is seen so many good dogs and hosses and so many mean niggers and
white folks, dat I 'clare, I is confused on de subject. Then I can't
believe in a hell and everlastin' brimstone. I just think dat people is
lak grains of corn: dere is some good grains and some rotten grains. De
good grains is res'rected, de rotten grains never sprout again. Good
people come up again and flourish in de green fields of Eden. Bad people
no come up. Deir bodies and bones just make phosphate guano, 'round de
roots of de ever bloomin' tree of life. They lie so much in dis world,
maybe de Lord will just make 'lie' soap out of them. What you think else
they would be fit for?"
Project #1655
Martha S. Pinckney
Charleston, S. C.
FOLKLORE
Approx. 660 words
INTERVIEW WITH EX-SLAVE
Age 88-90
Mary Frances Brown is a typical product of the old school of trained
house servants, an unusual delicate type, somewhat of the Indian cast,
to which race she is related. She is always clean and neat, a refined
old soul, as individuals of that class often are. Her memory, sight and
hearing are good for her advanced age.
"Our home Marlboro. Mas Luke Turnage was my
master--Marlboro-Factory-Plantation name 'Beauty Spot'. My missis was
right particular about neat and clean. She raise me for a house girl. My
missis was good to me, teach me ebbery ting, and take the Bible and
learn me Christianified manners, charity, and behaviour and good
respect, and it with me still.
"We didn't have any hard times, our owners were good to us--no over
share (overseer) and no whippin'--he couldn't stan' that. I live there
'til two year after freedom; how I come to leave, my mother sister been
sick, and she ask mother to send one of us, an she send me. My mother
been Miss Nancy cook. Miss Nancy was Mas Luke's mother--it take me two
years learning to eat the grub they cook down here in Charleston. I had
to learn to eat these little piece of meat--we had a dish full of meat;
the big smoke house was lined from the top down. (Describing how the
meat hung) I nebber accustom to dese little piece of meat, so--what dey
got here. Missis, if you know smoke house, didn't you find it hard? My
master had 'til he didn't know what to do with. My white people were
Gentile." (Her tone implied that she considered them the acme of gentle
folks). "I don't know what the other people were name that didn't have
as much as we had--but I know my people were Gentile!"
Just here her daughter and son appeared, very unlike their mother in
type. The daughter is quite as old looking as her mother; the son, a
rough stevedore. When the writer suggested that the son must be a
comfort, she looked down sadly and said in a low tone, as if
soliloquizing, "He way is he way." Going back to her former thought, she
said, "All our people were good. Mas Luke was the worse one." (This she
said with an indulgent smile) "Cause he was all the time at the race
ground or the fair ground.
"Religion rules Heaven and Earth, an there is no religion
now--harricanes an washin-aways is all about. Ebberything is change. Dis
new name what they call grip is pleurisy-cold--putrid sore-throat is
called somethin'--yes, diptheria. Cuttin (surgery) come out in 1911!
They kill an they cure, an they save an they loss.
"My Gran'ma trained with Indians--she bin a Indian, an Daniel C. McCall
bought her. She nebber loss a baby." (the first Indian relationship that
the writer can prove). "You know Dr. Jennings? Ebberybody mus' know him.
After he examine de chile an de mother, an 'ee alright, he hold de nurse
responsible for any affection (infection) that took place.
"Oh! I know de spiritual--but Missis, my voice too weak to sing--dey
aint in books; if I hear de name I can sing--'The Promise Land', Oh, how
Mas Joel Easterling (born 1796) use to love to sing dat!"
"I am bound for de Promise Land!
Oh! who will arise an go with me?
I am bound for the Promise Land!
I've got a mother in the Promise Land,
My mother calls me an I mus go,
To meet her in the Promise Land!"
Source: Mary Frances Brown, Age 88-90, East Bay Street, Charleston,
S. C.
Project #-1655
Cassels R. Tiedeman
Charleston, S. C.
FOLKLORE
INTERVIEW WITH AN EX-SLAVE
Mary Frances Brown, about ninety years of age, born in slavery, on the
plantation of Luke Turnage, in Marlboro County, was raised as a
house-servant and shows today evidence of most careful training. Her
bearing is rather a gentle refined type, seemingly untouched by the
squalor in which she lives. She willingly gives freely of her small
store of strength to those around her.
Her happiest days seem to have been those of her early youth, for when
she was questioned about the present times, and even about those closely
associated with her today she bowed her head and said: "Deir way is deir
way. O! let me tell you now, de world is in a haad (hard) time, wust
(worse) den it eber (ever) been, but religion! It eberywhere in Hebben
an' in de ert (earth) too, if you want em. De trouble is you ain't want
em; 'e right dere jes de same but de time done pass when dis generation
hold wid anyt'ing but de debbul. When I a gal, grown up, I had a tight
missus dat raise me, you hab to keep clean round her, she good an' kind
an' I lub her yet, but don't you forgit to mind what she say.
"My massa, he 'low no whipping on de plantation, he talk heap an' he
scold plenty, but den he hab to. Dere was haad time for two year after
de war was ober (over) but after dat it better den it is now. Dis is de
wust time eber. I ain't eber git use to de wittle (victual) you hab down
here. I lib ober Mount Pleasant twenty five year after I come from de
old place up Marlboro, den I come to Charleston.
"Dey were happy time back dere. My massa, he run round ebery way, spend
plenty money on horse race, he gib good time to eberybody an' tell us we
mus' tek good care of de missus when he ain't dere. An de wittles we hab
I ain't nebber see de lak no time. Dem were de times to lib. I old now
but I ain't forgit what my missus larn (learn) me. It right here in me."
Mary Frances was asked if she could sing spirituals. The following is
one that she sang in a very high pitched wavering voice and then she
complained of shortness of breath on account of her heart.
"We got a home ober dere,
Come an' let us go,
Come an' let us go,
Where pleasure neber (never) die.
Chorus:
"Oh! let us go where pleasure neber die,
Neber die,
Come and let us go,
Where pleasure neber die, neber die.
"Mother is gone ober dere,
Mother is gone ober dere,
Where pleasure neber die,
Where pleasure neber die.
Chorus:
"Father is gone ober dere,
Father is gone ober dere,
Where pleasure neber die,
Where pleasure neber die.
Chorus:
"Sister is gone ober dere,
Sister is gone ober dere,
Where pleasure neber die,
Where pleasure neber die.
Chorus:
"Brudder is gone ober dere,
Brudder is gone ober dere,
Where pleasure neber die,
Where pleasure neber die."
Chorus:
Source: Interview with Mary Frances Brown, 83 East Bay St.,
Charleston, S. C. (age--90)
Code No. ----
Project. 1885-(1)
Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
Place, Marion, S. C.
Date, July 8, 1937
No. Words ----
Reduced From ---- words
Rewritten by ----
MOM SARA BROWN
Ex-Slave, 85 years
"Oh, my God, de doctors have me in slavery time. Been here de startin of
de first war. I belong to de Cusaac dat live 15 miles low Florence on de
road what take you on to Georgetown. I recollects de Yankees come dere
in de month of June en free de colored peoples."
"My white folks give me to de doctors in dem days to try en learn me for
a nurse. Don' know exactly how old I was in dat day en time, but I can
tell you what I done. My Lord, child, can' tell dat. Couldn' never tell
how many baby I bring in dis world, dey come so fast. I betcha I got
more den dat big square down dere to de courthouse full of em. I nurse
13 head of chillun in one family right here in dis town. You see dat all
I ever did have to do. Was learnt to do dat. De doctor tell me, say,
when you call to a 'oman, don' you never hesitate to go en help her en
you save dat baby en dat mother both. Dat what I is always try to do.
Heap of de time just go en let em pay me by de chance. Oh, my Lord, a
'oman birth one of dem babies here bout two weeks ago wid one of dem
veil over it face. De Lord know what make dat, I don', but dem kind of
baby sho wiser den de other kind of baby. Dat thing look just like a
thin skin dat stretch over da baby face en come down low it's chin. Have
to take en pull it back over it's forehead en den de baby can see en
holler all it ever want to. My blessed, honey, wish I had many a dollar
as I see veil over baby face. Sho know all bout dem kind of things."