lived well en had plenty good ration to eat all de time cause my mammy
cook for she Missus dere to de big house. All she chillun lived in a one
room house right dere in de white folks yard en eat in de Missus big
kitchen every day. Dey give my mammy en she chillun just such things as
de white folks had to eat like biscuit en cake en ham en coffee en
hominy en butter en all dat kind of eatin. Didn' have no need to worry
bout nothin 'tall. My Massa had a heap of other colored peoples dere
besides we, but dey never live dat way. Dere been bout 80 of dem dat
live up in de quarter just like you see dese people live to de sawmill
dese days. Dey live mighty near like us, but didn' have no flour bread
to eat en didn' get no milk en ham neither cause dey eat to dey own
house. Didn' get nothin from de dairy but old clabber en dey been mighty
thankful to get dat. Oh, dey had a pretty good house to live in dat was
furnish wid dey own things dat dey make right dere. Den dey had a garden
of dey own. My Massa give every one of he plantation family so much of
land to plant for dey garden en den he give em every Saturday for dey
time to tend dat garden. You see dey had to work for de white folks all
de other week day en dey know when dey hear dat cow horn blow, dey had
to do what de overseer say do. Never couldn' go off de place widout dey
get a mit (permit) from de overseer neither else dey tore up when dey
come back. No 'mam, didn' dare to have nothin no time. Didn' 'low you to
go to school cause if you was to pick up a book, you get bout 100 lashes
for dat. No 'mam, didn' have no church for de colored peoples in dem
days. Just had some of dese big oaks pile up one on de other somewhe' in
de woods on dat whe' we go to church. One of de plantation mens what had
more learnin den de others was de one what do de preachin dere."
"My Massa wasn' never noways scraggeble to he colored peoples. Didn' cut
em for every kind of thing, but I is see him beat my stepfather one time
cause he run away en stay in de woods long time. Oh, he beat him wid a
switch or a stick or anything like dat he could get hold of."
"Didn' never know nothin bout doing no hard work in us chillun days.
When I was a boy, I mind de crows out de field. Oh, crows was terrible
bout pickin up peoples corn in times back dere. You see if dey let de
crows eat de corn up, dey had to go to de trouble of planting it all
over again en dat how-come dey send we chillun in de field to mind de
crows off it. We just holler after em en scare em dat way. Crows was
mighty worser in dem days den dey is dis day en time."
"I sho remembers when freedom was declare cause I was bout 16 year old
den. When dem Yankees talk bout comin round, my Massa take all we
colored boys en all he fast horses en put em back in de woods to de
canebrake to hide em from de Yankees. It been many a year since den, but
I recollects dat we was settin dere lookin for de Yankees to get as any
minute. Wasn' obliged to make no noise neither. Oh, we had big chunk of
lightwood en cook meat en hoecake en collards right dere in de woods.
Den my Massa take one of dem oldest plantation boys to de war wid him en
ain' nobody never hear tell of him no more. He name Willie. O my Lord,
when dey hear talk bout de Yankees comin, dey take all de pots en de
kettles en hide em in holes in de fields en dey put dey silver bout some
tree so dey know whe' dey bury it. Den dey hide de meat en de corn to de
colored peoples house en when dey hear talk of de Yankees gwine away,
dey go en get em again. Dem Yankees never destroy nothin bout dere, but
dey is make my Massa give em a cart of corn en a middlin of meat.
Yes'um, I look at dem Yankees wid me own eyes. Dey was all dressed up in
a blue uniform en dey was just as white as you is. Oh, dey said a lot of
things. Say dey was gwine free de niggers en if it hadn' been for dem,
we would been slaves till yet. Coase I rather be free den a slave, but
we never have so much worryations den as people have dese days. When we
get out of clothes en get sick in dat day en time, we never had to do
nothin but go to us Massa. Now, we have to look bout every which a way."
"My Massa ask my mother was she gwine live with him any longer after
freedom was declare en she say she never have no mind to leave dere. We
live on dere for one year en den we studied to get another place. I
believes heap of dem white folks died just on account of us get freed.
Dey never didn' want us to be free."
"I heard a 'oman say somebody had conjured her, but I don' believe in
none of dat. I knows I got to die some of dese days en dat might come
before me. I don' bother wid none of dat kind of thing, but I'll tell
you bout what I has experience. I had two dogs dere en somebody poison
em cause dey tell me somebody do dat. Oh, I know dey was poison. De
police say de dog was poison. A 'oman do it dat had chillun what was
afraid of my dog en dat how-come she poison it. I sho think she done it
cause it just like dis, anything peoples tell me, I believes it."
"I have seen dem things peoples say is a ghost when I was stayin here to
Lake View. I plant a garden side de road en one night I hear somethin en
I look out en dere was a great big black thing in me garden dat was
makin right for de house. I call me wife en tell her to look yonder. De
thing was comin right to de house en my wife hurry en light up de lamp.
I hear de peoples say if you didn' light up de lamp when you see a
spirit, dat it would sho come in en run you out. I had done paid some
money on de place but after I see dat thing, I didn' have no mind to
want it. Had de best garden en chickens dere I ever had, but I never
bother no worry bout dat. Just pick right up en leave dere to come here
en I been here ever since. I knows dat been somethin come dere to scare
me out dat house. Dat ain' been nothin else but a spirit. Ain' been
nothin else."
Source: Charlie Davis, age 88, colored, Marion, S. C.
Personal interview, July 1937.
Project #1655
Henry Grant
Columbia, S. C.
CHARLIE DAVIS'S MUSINGS.
Charlie Davis, now seventy-nine years old, was a small boy when the
slaves were freed. He lives alone in one room on Miller's Alley,
Columbia, S. C., and is healthy and physically capable of self-support.
"I has been wonderin' what you wanted to talk to dis old nigger 'bout
since I fust heard you wanted to see me. I takes it to be a honor for a
white gentleman to desire to have a conversation wid me. Well, here I
is, and I bet I's one of de blackest niggers you's seen for a season.
Somehow, I ain't 'shame of my color a-tall. If I forgits I is dark
complected, all I has to do is to look in a glass and in dere I sho'
don't see no white man.
"Boss, I is kinda glad I is a black man, 'cause you knows dere ain't
much expected of them nowhow and dat, by itself, takes a big and heavy
burden off deir shoulders. De white folks worries too much over dis and
over dat. They worries 'cause they ain't got no money and, when they
gits it, they worries agin 'cause they is 'fraid somebody is gwine to
steal it from them. Yes, sir, they frets and fumes 'cause they can't
'sociate wid big folks and, when they does go wid them, they is bothered
'cause they ain't got what de big folks has got.
"It ain't dat way wid most niggers. Nothin' disturbs them much, 'cept a
empty stomach and a cold place to sleep in. Give them bread to eat and
fire to warm by, then, hush your mouth; they is sho' safe then! De
'possum in his hollow, de squirrel in his nest, and de rabbit in his
bed, is at home. So, de nigger, in a tight house wid a big hot fire, in
winter, is at home, too.
"Some sort of ease and comfort is 'bout what all people, both white and
black, is strivin' for in dis world. All of us laks dat somethin' called
'tentment, in one way or de other. Many white folks and some darkies
thinks dat a pile of money, a fine house to live in, a 'spensive
'motorbile, fine clothes, and high 'ciety, is gwine to give them dat.
But, when they has all dis, they is still huntin' de end of de rainbow a
little ahead of them.
"Is de black man nervous or is he natchally scary? Well, sir, I is gwine
to say yes and no to dat. A nigger gits nervous when he hears somethin'
he don't understand and scared when he sees somethin' he can't make out.
When he gits sho' 'nough scared, he moves right then, not tomorrow. Lak
de wild animals of de woods, he ain't 'fraid of de dark, much, if he is
movin' 'bout, but when he stops, no house is too tight for him, in
summer or winter. If he sees a strange and curious sight at night, he
don't have to ask nobody what to do, 'cause he knows dat he has foots.
It is good-bye wid old clothes, bushes, and fences, when them foots gits
to 'tendin' to deir business. When you hears a funny and strange noise
and sees a curious and bad sight, I b'lieves you fust git nervous and
then dat feelin' grows stronger fas', 'til you git scared. I knows de
faster I moves, de slower I gits scared.
"From my age now, you can tell dat I was mighty little in slavery time.
All I knows 'bout them terrible times is what I has heard. I come pretty
close to them ticklish times, but I can't help from thinkin', even now,
dat I missed a 'sperience in slavery time dat would be doin' me good to
dis very day. Dere ain't no doubt dat many a slave learnt good lessons
dat showed them how to work and stay out of de jail or poorhouse, dat's
worth a little.
"I has heard my mammy say dat she b'long to de Wyricks dat has a big
plantation in de northwestern part of Fairfield County and dat my daddy
b'long to de Graddicks in de northern part of Richland County. Dese two
plantations was just across de road from each other. Mammy said dat de
patrollers was as thick as flies 'round dese plantations all de time,
and my daddy sho' had to slip 'round to see mammy. Sometime they would
ketch him and whip him good, pass or no pass.
"De patrollers was nothin' but poor white trash, mammy say, and if they
didn't whip some slaves, every now and then, they would lose deir jobs.
My mammy and daddy got married after freedom, 'cause they didn't git de
time for a weddin' befo'. They called deirselves man and wife a long
time befo' they was really married, and dat is de reason dat I's as old
as I is now. I reckon they was right, in de fust place, 'cause they
never did want nobody else 'cept each other, nohow. Here I is, I has
been married one time and at no time has I ever seen another woman I
wanted. My wife has been dead a long time and I is still livin' alone.
All our chillun is scattered 'bout over de world somewhere, and dat
somewhere is where I don't know. They ain't no help to me now, in my old
age. But, I reckon they ain't to be blamed much, 'cause they is young,
full of warm blood and thinks in a different way from de older ones.
Then, too, I 'spects they thinks deir old daddy would kinda be in deir
way, and de best thing for them to do is to stay away from me. I don't
know, it just seems lak de way of de world.
"I come from de Guinea family of niggers, and dat is de reason I is so
small and black. De Guinea nigger don't know nothin', 'cept hard work,
and, for him to be so he can keep up wid bigger folks, he has to turn
'round fas'. You knows dat if you puts a little hog in a pen wid big
hogs, de little one has got to move 'bout in a hurry amongst de big
ones, to git 'nough to eat, and de same way wid a little person, they
sho' has to hustle for what they gits. I has no head for learnin' what's
in books, and if I had, dere wasn't no schools for to learn dat head,
when I come 'long. I has made some money, 'long through de years, but
never knowed how to save it. Now I is so old dat I can't make much, and
so, I just live somehow, dat's all.
"President Roosevelt has done his best to help de old, poor, and
forgotten ones of us all, every color and race, while dis 'pression has
been gwine on in dis country. Is us gwine to git dis new pension what is
gwine 'bout, or is dat other somebody gwine to think he needs it worser
than us does? Dat's de question what 'sorbs my mind most, dese days. I
don't need much, and maybe I don't deserve nothin', but I sho' would lak
to git hold of dat little dat's 'tended for me by dat man up yonder in
Washington. (Roosevelt)
"Does I b'lieve in spirits and hants? My answer to dat question is dis:
'Must my tremblin' spirit fly into a world unknown?' When a person goes
'way from dis world, dere they is, and dere they is gwine to stay, 'til
judgment."
Code No.
Project, 1885-(1)
Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis
Place, Marion, S. C.
Date, January 21, 1938
No. Words ----
Reduced from ---- words
Rewritten by ----
HEDDIE DAVIS
Ex-Slave, 72 Years
Lizzie Davis sends word for Heddie Davis to come over to her little
shack to join in the conversation about old times and Heddie enters the
room with these words: "Sis, I gwine hug your neck. Sis, I did somethin
last night dat I oughtn't done en I can' hardly walk dis mornin. Pulled
off my long drawers last night en never had none to change wid. I can'
bear to get down en pray or nothin like dat, my knee does ache me so
bad. I gwine up town yonder en get some oil of wintergreen en put on it.
Yes'um, dat sho a good thing to strike de pain cause I heard bout dat
long years ago. Sis, ain' you got no coffee nowhe' dis mornin? God
knows, de Lord sho gwine bless you, Sis."
"What honey? No'um, I won' here in slavery time. I was just tereckly
after it. Well, I come here a Lewis, but I inherited de Davis name when
I married. Old man Peter Lewis was my daddy, en my mother--she was a
North Carolina woman. Oh, I heard dat man talk bout de old time war so
much dat I been know what was gwine fly out his mouth time he been have
a mind to spit it out. My daddy, he belonged to de old man Evans Lewis
en he been de one his boss pick to carry to de war wid him. Yes'um, he
stayed up dere to Fort Sumter four years a fightin en hoped shoot dem
old Yankee robbers. My old man, he had one of dem old guns en I give it
to his brother Jimmie. He lives way up yonder to de north en he carried
dat gun wid him just cause I give it to him, he say. He marry my younger
sister en she grayer den I is. Think dey say dey lives to Rockingham,
North Carolina. Yes, honey, my daddy was sho in dat wash out dere to
Fort Sumter. Lord, have mercy, I never hear tell of crabs en shrimps in
all my life till my daddy come back en tell bout a old woman would be
gwine down de street, dere to Charleston, cryin, 'Shrimps, more
shrimps.' But, my Lord, I can' half remember nothin dese days. If I had
de sense I used to have, I would give de Lord de praise. Honey, he said
a lot of stuff bout de war. Told a whole chance of somethin. Tell us
bout de parade en everything, but I is forgetful now en I just can'
think. De Bible say dat in de course of your life, you will be forgetful
in dat how I is. Just can' think like I used to. You see, I gwine in 70
now.
"Oh, I was born dere to Mullins in January on de old man Evans Lewis'
plantation. Den we moved dere to de Mark Smith place after freedom
settle here. Dat long high man, dat who been us boss. His wife was name
Sallie en de place was chock full of hands. No, mam, my white folks
didn' care bout no quarter on dey plantation. Colored people just
throwed 'bout all over de place. Oh, I tell you, it was a time cause de
niggers was dere, plenty of dem. Some of dey house was settin side de
road, some over in dat corner, some next de big house en so on like dat
all over de place. Oh, dey lived all right, I reckon. Never didn' hear
dem say dey got back none. Hear dey live den better den de people lives
now. Oh, yes'um, I hear my parents say de white folks was good to de
colored people in slavery time. Didn' hear tell of nobody gettin nothin
back on one another neither. No, child, didn' never hear tell of nothin
like dat. Seems like de people don' work dese days like dey used to
nohow. Well, dey done somethin of everything in dat day en time en work
bout all de time. Ain' nobody workin much to speak bout dese days cause
dey walks bout too much, I say. I tell you, when I been a child gwine to
school, soon as I been get home in de evenin en hit dat door-step, I had
to strip en put on my everyday clothes en get to work. Had to pick up
wood en potatoes in de fall or pick cotton. Had to do somethin another
all de time, but never didn' nobody be obliged to break dey neck en
hurry en get done in dem days. Chillun just rushes en plays too much
dese days, I say. No, Lord, I don' want to rush no time. I tellin you,
when I starts to Heaven, I want to take my time gettin dere.
"Lord, child, I sho hope I gwine to Heaven some of dese days cause old
Satan been ridin me so tough in dis here world, I ain' see no rest since
I been know bout I had two feet. My husband, he treat me so mean, if he
ain' in Heaven, he in de other place, I say. Den all dem chillun, Lord a
mercy, dey will kill you. I raised all mine by myself en I tell you,
dey took de grease out of me.
"My daddy, he was a prayin man. Lord knows, he was a prayin man. Seems
like de old people could beat de young folks a prayin up a stump any
day. I remember, my daddy come here to de white people church to
Tabernacle one night en time dem people see him, dey say, 'Uncle Peter,
de Lord sho send you cause ain' nobody but you can pray dese sinners out
of hell here tonight.' God knows dat man could sing en pray. Lord, he
could pray. Oh, darlin child, dat man prayed bout all de time. Prayed
every mornin en every night en when us would come out de field at 12
o'clock, us had to hear him pray fore he ever did allow us to eat near a
morsel. Sis, I remember one day, when dey first started we chillun a
workin in de field, I come to de house 12 o'clock en I was so hungry, I
was just a poppin. God knows, people don' serve de Lord like dey used
to."
"Sis, you wants dat one patch, too. Lord Jesus, dere ain' no limit to
dis one. Sis, I must be come here on Saturday cause everywhe' I goes, I
has to work. Hear talk, if you born on a Saturday, you gwine have to
work hard for what you get all your days. I been doin somethin ever
since I been big enough to know I somebody. Remember de first thing I
ever do for a white woman. Ma come home en say, 'Heddie, get up in de
mornin en wash your face en hands en go up to Miss Rogers en do
everything just like she say do.' I been know I had to do dat, too,
cause if I never do it, I know I would been whip from cane to cane.
When I got dere, I open de gate en look up en dere been de new house en
dere been de old one settin over dere what dey been usin for de kitchen
den. I won' thinkin bout nothin 'cept what Miss Rogers was gwine say en
when I been walk in dat gate, dere a big bulldog flew up in my head. I
stop en look at him en dat dog jump en knock me windin en grabbed my
foot in his mouth. Yes'um, de sign dere yet whe' he gnawed me. White
folks tell me I been do wrong. Say, don' never pay no attention to a dog
en dey won' bother up wid you. But, honey, dat dog had a blue eye en a
pink eye. Ain' never see a dog in such a fix since I been born. I tell
you, if you is crooked, white folks will sho straighten you out. Dat dog
taught me all I is ever wanted to know. Lord, Miss Mary, I been love dat
woman. De first time I ever see her, she say, 'You ain' got no dress to
wear to Sunday School, I gwine give you one.' Yes, mam, Miss Mary dress
me up en de Lord knows, I ain' never quit givin her de praise yet.
"Yes'um, de Yankees, I hear my daddy talk bout when dey come through old
Massa's plantation en everything what dey do. Say, dere was a old woman
dat was de cook to de big house en when dem Yankees come dere dat
mornin, white folks had her down side de cider press just a whippin her.
Say, de Yankees took de old woman en dressed her up en hitched up a
buggy en made her set up in dere. Wouldn' let de white folks touch her
no more neither. Oh, de place was just took wid dem, he say. What dey
never destroy, dey carried off wid dem. Oh, Lord a mercy, hear talk dere
was a swarm of dem en while some of dem was in de house a tearin up,
dere was a lot of dem in de stables takin de horses out. Yes'um, some
was doin one thing en some another. En Pa tell bout dey had de most
sense he ever did see. Hitched up a cart en kept de path right straight
down in de woods en carted de corn up what de white folks been hide down
dere in de canebrake. Den some went in de garden en dug up a whole lot
of dresses en clothes. En dere was a lady in de house sick while all dis
was gwine on. Oh, dey was de worst people dere ever was, Pa say. Took
all de hams en shoulders out de smokehouse en like I tell you, what dey
never carried off, dey made a scaffold en burned it up. Lord, have
mercy, I hopes I ain' gwine never have to meet no Yankees."
Source: Heddie Davis, colored, age 72, Marion, S. C.
Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Jan., 1938.
Project #1655
W. W. Dixon
Winnsboro, S. C.
HENRY DAVIS
EX-SLAVE 80 YEARS OLD.
Henry Davis is an old Negro, a bright mulatto, who lives in a two-room
frame house on the farm of Mr. Amos E. Davis, about two miles southwest
of Winnsboro, S. C.
In the house with him, are his wife, Rosa, and his grown children,
Roosevelt, Utopia, and Rose. They are day laborers on the farm. At this
period, Henry picks about seventy-five pounds of cotton a day. His
children average one hundred and fifty pounds each. The four together
are thus enabled to gather about five hundred and twenty-five pounds per
day, at the rate of sixty-five cents per hundred. This brings to the
family, a daily support of $3.41. This is seasonal employment, however;
and, as they are not a provident household, hard times come to Henry and
his folks in the winter and early summer.
"I was born on de old Richard Winn plantation dat my master, Dr. W. K.
Turner, owned and lived on. I was born de year befo' him marry Miss
Lizzie Lemmon, my mistress in slavery time.
"My mother was name Mary and took de name of Davis, 'cause befo' freedom
come, her was bought by my master, from Dr. Davis, near Monticello.
"I had a good many marsters and mistresses. Miss Minnie marry Dr.
Scruggs. Miss Anna marry Mr. Dove. Miss Emma marry Mr. Jason Pope. Marse
Willie K. marry a Miss Carroll up in York, S. C., and Marse Johnnie
marry Miss Essie Zealy. My brothers and sisters was Minton, Ike, Martha,
and Isabella.
"Who I marry and all 'bout it? How come you want to know dat? I 'clare!
You think dat gwine to loosen me up? Well, I marry de 'Rose of Sharon'
or I calls her dat when I was sparkin' her, though she was a Lemmon. Her
was name Rose Lemmon. Lots of times she throw dat in my face, 'Rose of
Sharon' when things go wrong. Then her git uppish and sniff, 'Rose of
Sharon, my eye! You treats me lak I was a dogwood rose on de hillside or
worse than dat, lak I was a Jimson weed or a rag weed.'
"My mammy and us chillun live in de yard not far from de kitchen. My
mammy do de washin' and ironin'. Us chillun did no work. I ride 'round
most of de time wid de doctor in his buggy and hold de hoss while he
visit de patients. Just set up in de buggy and wait 'til him git ready
to go to another place or go home.
"I 'member de Yankees comin' and searchin' de house, takin' off de cows,
mules, hosses, and burnin' de gin-house and cotton. They say dat was
General Sherman's orders. They was 'lowed to leave de dwellin' house
standin', in case of a doctor or preacher.
"Miss Lizzie had a whole lot of chickens. Her always keep de finest
pullets. She make pies and chicken salad out of de oldest hens. Dat
February de Yankees got here, she done save up 'bout fifty pullets dat
was ready to lay in March. A squad of Yankees make us chillun ketch
every one and you know how they went 'way wid them pullets? They tie two
on behind, in de rings of de saddle. Then they tie two pullets together
and hang them on de saddle pommel, one on each side of de hosses neck.
Dat throw them flankin' de hosses withers. I 'members now them gallopin'
off, wid them chickens flutterin' and hollerin' whare, whare, whare,
whare, whare!
"After slavery time, us live on de Turner place nigh onto thirty years
and then was de time I go to see Rosa and court and marry her. Her folks
b'long to de Lemmons and they had stayed on at de Lemmon's place. De
white folks of both plantations 'courage us to have a big weddin'. Her
white folks give her a trousseau and mine give me a bedstead, cotton
mattress, and two feather pillows. Dat was a mighty happy day and a
mighty happy night for de 'Rose of Sharon'. Her tells young niggers
'bout it to dis day, and I just sets and smokes my pipe and thinks of
all de days dat am passed and gone and wonder if de nex' world gwine to
bring us back to youth and strength to 'joy it, as us did when Rose and
me was young.
"Does I 'members anything 'bout patrollers? 'Deed, I do! Marster didn't
'ject to his slaves gwine to see women off de place. I hear him say so,
and I hear him tell more than once dat if he ever hear de patrollers a
comin' wid blood hounds, to run to de lot and stick his foots in de mud
and de dogs wouldn't follow him. Lots of run'ways tried it, I heard, and
it proved a success and I don't blame them dogs neither."
Project #1655
W. W. Dixon
Winnsboro, S. C.
JESSE DAVIS
EX-SLAVE 85 YEARS OLD.
Jesse Davis, one of the fast disappearing landmarks of slavery times,
lives with his wife and son, in one of the ordinary two-room frame
houses that dot, with painful monotony, the country farms of white
landowners. The three attempt to carry on a one-horse farm of forty
acres, about thirty acres in cotton and the remainder in corn. The
standard of living is low. Jesse is cheerful, his wife optimistic with
the expression that the Lord will provide, and their son dutiful and
hopeful of the harvest. Their home is about ten miles southwest of
Winnsboro, in the Horeb section of Fairfield County.
"Dere is some difficulty 'bout my age. Nigh as I can place it, I was
born befo' de Civil War. I 'members 'tendin' to and milkin' de cows, and
keepin' de calf off, drawin' water out de well, and bringin' in wood to
make fires. I 'spects I's eighty-five, mountin' up in years.