Interviewer's Comment

"Mother" Lindsay is a Bible-reading, neat and clean-appearing,

pleasant-mannered business woman, a little bulky, but carrying herself

like a woman thirty years. She runs a cafe on Ninth Street and manages

her own business competently. She refers to it as "Hole in the Wall."

I had been trying for sometime to catch her away from her home. It was

almost impossible for me to get a story from her at her restaurant or

at her home.

She doesn't like to sit long at a time and doesn't like to tell too

much. When she feels quarters are a little close and that she is

telling more than she wants to, she says, "Honey, I ain't got no more

time to talk to you; I got to get back to the cafe and get me a cup of

coffee."

Will Glass, who has a story of his own, collaborated with her on her

story. He has an accurate and detailed memory of many things. He is

too young to have any personal memories. But he remembers everything

he has been told by his grandparents and parents, and they seem to

have talked freely to him unlike the usual parents of that period.

Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden

Person interviewed: Rosa Lindsey

302 S. Miller Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas

Age: 83

"I was born in Georgia and I'm 83.

"My white folks was named Abercrombie.

"I don't remember my mother and I hardly remember my father. My white

folks raised me up. I 'member my missis had me bound to her when I was

twelve. I know when my grandma come to take me home with her, I run

away from her and went back to my white folks.

"My white folks was rich. I belonged to my young missis. She didn't

'low nobody to hit me. When she went to school she had me straddle the

horse behind her. The first readin' I ever learned was from the white

folks.

"I think the Yankees took Columbus, Georgia on a Sunday morning. I

know they just come through there and tore up things and did as they

pleased.

"I stayed there a long time after the Yankees went back.

"Old master wasn't too old to go to war but he didn't go. I think he

had to dodge around to keep the Yankees from gettin' him. I think he

went to Texas but we didn't go.

"I loved my white folks 'cause I knowed more about them than anybody

else.

"I come here to Arkansas with a young white lady just married. She

'suaded me to come with her and I just stayed.

"Biggest thing I have did is washin' and ironin'. But now I am doing

missionary work in the Sanctified church.

"I don't know 'bout the younger generation. Looks like 'bout near

ever'body lost now. There's some few young people is saved now but

they ain't many."

Interviewer: Thomas Elmore Lucy

Person interviewed: William Little,

Atkins, Arkansas

Age: 83

"I was born on the plantation of Dr. Andrew Scott, but my old ma'ster

was Col. Ben T. Embry. The 14th of March, in the year 1855, was my

birthday. Yes suh, I was born right here at old Galla Rock! My old

Ma'ster Embry had a good many slaves. He went to Texas and stayed

about three years. Took a lot of us along, and de first work I ever

done after I was set free was pickin' cotton at $2 a hundred pounds.

Dere was seventy-five or a hundred of us freed at once. Yes suh! Den

we drove five hundred miles back here from Texas, and drove five

hundred head of stock. We was refigees--dat's de reason we had to go

to Texas.

"Father and mother both passed away a good many years ago. Oh, yes,

dey was mighty well treated while dey was in slavery; never was a

kinder mas'r anywhere dan my old mas'r. And he was wealthy, too--had

lots of land, and a store, and plenty of other property. Many of the

slaves stayed on as servants long after the War, and lived right

around here at old Galla Rock.

"No suh, I never belonged to no chu'ch; dey thought I done too much of

the devil's work--playin' the fiddle. Used to play the fiddle for

dances all around the neighborhood. One white man gave me $10 once for

playin' at a dance. Played lots of the old-time pieces like 'Turkey in

the Straw', 'Dixie', and so on.

"We owns our home here, and I has another one. Been married twice and

raised eighteen chillun. Yes suh, we've lived here eighteen years, and

had fine health till last few years, but my health is sorter po'ly

now. Got a swellin' in my laigs.

"(Chuckling) I sure remembers lots of happy occasions down here in

days before the War. One day the steamboat come up to the landin'. It

was named the Maumelle--yes suh, Maumelle, and lots of hosses and

cattle was unloaded from the steamer. Sure was busy days then. And our

old mas'r was mighty kind to us."

NOTE: "Uncle Bill" did not know how he came about the name "Little."

Perhaps it was a nickname bestowed upon him to distinguish him from

some other William of larger stature. However, he stands fully six

feet in height, and has a strong, vigorous voice. He is the sole

surveying ex-slave of the Galla Rock community.

Interviewer: Thomas Elmore Lucy

Person interviewed: "Aunt Minerva" Lofton

Russellville, Arkansas

Age: 69

"Come in! Yes, my name's Minerva Lofton--at least it was yistiddy.

Now, whatcha gonna ask me? Hope you ain't saying something that'll git

me in bad. Don't want to git in any more trouble. Hard times' bad

enough.

"I was born in the country nine miles from Clarendon, Monroe County,

December 3, 1869. Father died before I was born. My mother came from

Virginia, and her mistress' name was Bettie Clark. They lived close to

Richmond, and people used to say 'Blue Ridge,' so I think it was Blue

Ridge County, Virginia. Mother was sold to Henry

Cargile--C-a-r-g-i-l-e.

"When they were expecting peace to be declared soon a lot of the

colored people named Parks took many of the slaves to Texas to escape

from the Yankees, but when they got to Corpus Christi they found the

Yankee soldiers there just the same, so they came back to Arkansas. I

sure used to laugh at my dear old mother when she'd tell about the

long trip to Corpus Christi, and things that happened on the way. They

stopped over at Camden as they went through, and one of the colored

gals who hated her played a prank on her to take out her spite on

mother: They had stopped at a dairyman's home near Camden, and she

sent my mother in to get a gallon of buttermilk. After drinking all

she could hold she grabbed mother by the hair of the head and churned

her up and down in the buttermilk till it streamed down her face, and

on her clothes--a sight to behold. I laughed and laughed until my

sides ached when mother told me about this.

"Old mistis' name (that is, one of the old mistis') was Bettie Young,

and my mother was named Bettie for her; she was a namesake--sort of a

wedding present, I think.

"I've been a member of the Pentecostal church for nineteen years.

"No sir, I never have voted and never expect to. Why? Because I have a

religious opinion about votin'. I think a woman should not vote; her

place is in the home raising her family and attending to the household

duties. We have raised only two boys (stepchildren)--had no children

of our own--but I have decided ideas about women runnin' around among

and votin'. When I see em settin' around the ballot box at the polls,

sometimes with a cigarette in their mouths, and again slingin' out a

'damn' or two, I want to slap em good and hard.

"Yes, the old time religious songs--I sure remember some of them! Used

to be able to sing lots of em, but have forgotten the words of many.

Let's see:

'I'm a-goin' to tell my Lord, Daniel in de lion's den;

I'm a-goin' to tell my Lord, I'm a-goin' to tell my Lord,

Daniel in de lion's den.'

Here's another:

'Big bells a-ringin' in de army of de Lord;

Big bells a-ringin' in de army.

I'm so glad I'm in de army of de Lord;

My soul's a-shoutin' in de army.'

"Modern youth? Humph! I think they are just a fulfilling of what

Christ said: 'They shall grow wiser as they grow older, but weaker.'

Where is it in the Scripture? Wait a minute and I'll look it up. Now,

let's see--where was that passage? It says 'weaker' here and 'weaken'.

Never mind--wait--I'll find it. Well, anyway, I don't know jest how to

describe this generation. I heard a white woman once say that she had

to do a little cussin' to make herself understood. 'Cussin'?' Why,

'cussin'' is jist a polite word for it.

"Good-bye, mister. You oughta thank the Lawd you've got a job!"

Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States from Interviews with Former Slaves, Volume II, Arkansas Narratives, Part 4 · 第 45 / 65 题