*Interview with Richard Jones (Dick Look-up), age 93 [HW: 125?]*
*County Home, Union, S.C.*
--_Caldwell Sims, Union, S.C._
Dick has an upward stare all the time, and holds his head as if he were
always looking up into the sky, consequently he has won the sobriquet,
'Look-Up'.
"Everybody dat knows me knows dat I was born on de Jim Gist plantation,
and it used to jine Mr. Winsmith's and de Glenn Peak plantations. Mr.
Winsmith was a doctor. Marse Jim sho was a good man to his darkies.
"My father was named Ned Jones and he belonged to Marse Berry Jones. His
plantation was across de forest, next to West Springs. Mother was Lucy
Gist, belonging to Marse Jim. My parents had de following chilluns:
Esther, Bella, Ephriam, Griggs, John, Penfield, me and Richard. Dey
married and so we was all Jones.
"De slaves in de Gist Quarter lived well. All nigger chilluns in dat
quarter had very small tasks until dey was seventeen or eighteen years
old. De quarter had nine houses. Dere was seventeen hundred acres in our
plantation; or dat is, de part where we lived and worked. We lived in
one-room log cabins dat had to be well kept all of de time.
"All de chilluns in de Quarter was well fed, clothed, housed and
doctored until dey was strong and well developed younguns. Den dey was
give tasks and learnt to do what de master and de mistress thought dey
would do well at.
"In de houses we had comfortable home-made beds and chairs. We had nice
tables and plenty to eat. Our clothes was kept mended by a seamstress,
and dese things was looked after by one of de mammies on de plantation
dat was too old to work.
"Ah yes, well does I 'member my Granny from Africa, and straight from
dere, too; Judith Gist, dey named her. Dat ole lady could not work when
she died, fer she was a hundred and ten years old. Dey had in de paper
dat I was 125 [HW: 93?]. It gives me notice to say dat I is de oldest
man in Union County. Can't 'member any of my grandfathers. Millie Gist
was my mother, and aunt Judith was her mother.
"Granny Judith said dat in Africa dey had very few pretty things, and
dat dey had no red colors in cloth, in fact, dey had no cloth at all.
Some strangers wid pale faces come one day and drapped a small piece of
red flannel down on de ground. All de black folks grabbed fer it. Den a
larger piece was drapped a little further on, and on until de river was
reached. Den a large piece was drapped in de river and on de other side.
Dey was led on, each one trying to git a piece as it was drapped.
Finally, when de ship was reached, dey drapped large pieces on de plank
and up into de ship 'till dey got as many blacks on board as dey wanted.
Den de gate was chained up and dey could not get back. Dat is de way
Granny Judith say dey got her to America. Of course she did not even
know dat de pieces was red flannel, or dat she was being enticed away.
Dey just drapped red flannel to dem like us draps corn to chickens to
git dem on de roost at night.
"When dey got on board de ship dey were tied until de ship got to sea;
den dey was let loose to walk about 'cause dey couldn't jump overboard.
On de ship dey had many strange things to eat, and dey liked dat. Dey
was give enough red flannel to wrap around demselves. She liked it on de
boat. Granny Judith born Millie, and Millie born me. No, I ain't never
had no desire to go to Africa, kaise I gwine to stay whar I is.
"Uncle Tom come 'long wid Granny Judith. Two womenfolks come wid dem,
aunt Chany and Daphne. Aunt Chany and aunt Daphne was bought by de Frees
dat had a plantation near Jonesville. Uncle Tom and 'Granny' was bought
by Marse Jim Gist, but dere marsters allus 'lowed dem to visit on July
4th and Christmas. When dey talk, nobody didn't know what dey was
talking about. My granny never could speak good like I can. She talk
half African, and all African when she git bothered. No, I can't talk no
African.
"After I was seventeen I did all kinds of hoeing and plowing and other
farm work fer my marster. He said dat by dis time, his little niggers'
bones had done got hard enough fer dem to work. We had a 'driver', a
older person, dat showed us how to do everything right. Marse never let
him over-work or hurry us. We liked him--'Uncle July Gist', we called
him and dat was his real name, too. His wife, Aunty Sara, was good to
us; dey both buried at Woodson's Chapel Baptist Church.
"Fer my first task I had 1/4 of an acre in taters, 'bacca and
watermelons de first year. Some of de boys had 'pinders, cantloupes and
matises (tomatoes) in dere task of a 1/4 acre.
"De next year, we made corn and sold it to our master fer whatever he
give us fer it. All de use we had fer money was to buy fish hooks,
barlows, juice harps and marbles. Boys did not use 'bacca den until dey
got twenty-one or over. Marse allus carried a roll of money as big as my
arm. He would come to de quarter on Christmas, July 4th and
Thanksgiving, and get up on a stump and call all the chilluns out. Den
he would throw money to 'em. De chilluns git dimes, nickles, quarters,
half-dollars and dollars. At Christmas he would throw ten dollar bills.
De parents would take de five and ten dollar bills in charge, but Marse
made de let de chilluns keep de small change. I tell you, I ain't never
seed so much money since my marster been gone. He buried at Fairforest
Presbyterian Cemetery as white folks calls it, but we calls it Cedar
Grove.
"When he died, he had sixteen plantations, you can see dat at de
courthouse in Union. All his darkies went in a drove of wagons to his
burying. He was killed by dem Yankees in Virginny. Uncle Wylie Smith,
his bodyguard, come back wid his body and told us dat Marse was kilt by
a Yankee. Marse Jim was a sentinel, and dat Yankee shot him in his nose,
but strange to say, it never tore his face up none. Miss Sara buried him
in his uniform and she wrapped a Confederate flag over de top of de
coffin. Uncle Wylie put Master's watch around Miss Sara's neck like he
had done told him to do when he got home. Miss Sara cried and us cried,
too. Jim never married and dat's why Miss Sara to do everything, kaise
she was his sister what lived wid him.
"Mr., I run on Broad River fer over 24 years as boatman, carrying Marse
Jim's cotton to Columbia fer him. Us had de excitement on dem trips.
Lots times water was deeper dan a tree is high. Sometimes I was throwed
and fell in de water. I rise up every time, though, and float and swim
back to de boat and git on again. If de weather be hot, I never think of
changing no clothes, but just keep on what I got wet. Five niggers allus
went on Marse's boat. One man steer de boat and of course he was de
steerman, and dat what he went by. I recollects two steermans, Bradley
Kennedy and Andy McCluny. Charlie Gilliam was de second steerman, by dat
I means dat he de young nigger dat Bradley and Andy had to break in.
"Sometimes Marster have three flat boats a-gwine down at one time, and I
has recollections of as many as five a-gwine from our plantation; dat
was not so often, though. Us had long poles to steer de boats wid; den
dere was some paddles, and some of de niggers was called privates dat
handled de cotton and used de paddles when dey had to be used. You knows
dat batteaus was what dey always used de paddles wid. Privates did de
shoving and other heavy work. De seconds and de privates allus shoved
wid de poles when de water was rough, and de steerman give orders. I was
allus a boatman.
"Charlie Gilliam acted as boatman, some; and den de other boatmen was:
Bill Hughes, Warren Worthy, Green Stokes and John Glenn. Dey made de
poles to suit de job. Some of de poles was longer dan others was. Some
of dem was broad and flat at de end; others was blunt and others was
made sharp. When de Broad River rose, sometimes de waves got higher dan
my house dar. Den it was a real job to handle one of Marse's boats. Fact
is, it was five men's jobs. Wid water a-roaring and a-foaming and
a-gwine round you like a mad tiger a-blowing his breath, so dat you was
feer'd (scared) dat all your marster's cotton gwine to be spilt, you had
to be up and a-doing something real fast. Sometimes dat river take your
boat round and round like a merry-go-round, 'til you git so
swimmy-headed dat you have to puke up all de victuals dat you done eat.
Den it swing from dat whirl into a swift stream dat take you a mile a
minute, yes sir, a mile a minute fer I don't know how fer.
"Den you see a tree a-coming right straight to you. If de boat hit dat
tree, you knowed dat you be busted into a million pieces. You had to git
your poles and somebody had to let a pole hit dat tree ahead of de boat.
Of course dat change de boat's course from de tree and you went sailing
on by. Once in a freshet us raced twenty-five miles in twenty-five
minutes. Marse Jim was wid us dat time, and he tole us so by his watch.
De water a-jumping real high and dat boat a-jumping still wusser made me
so skeer't dat I just shake in my knees and all de way up and down my
legs.
"On dis trip we had went plumb up in North Carolina. Us never had been
dat fer up befo'. I ain't never seed North carolina befo'; neither is I
seed it since. Broad River was real narrow when we went up and she look
like a lamb; but when we come down it had done and tuck and rained and
dem banks was vanished ... but dat water sho did rare up dar to git back
in its regular channel. De rocks up dar was mo' scary looking dat dey is
whar it run through Union to Columbia. Dat night we run into a nine-mile
shoal. Couldn't none de niggers keep dat boat off'n dat shoal it was so
powerful ... dat is, de water just tuck dat boat plumb smack out'n our
hands. But it throwed our boat in shallow water and of course dat made
it drag. Good dat it never drug over no sharp rocks--and dey was setting
all around us--but it happened dat it hit sand. We camped dar fer de
night. By morning we had done go a quarter mile from de channel.
"When we et (ate), we worked de boat out into de main channel again. Den
we staked her to a tree and tuck a look around befo' we started down
stream fer Union; dat seemed fer off right den. Finally de master
boatman give de order, 'Shove off, boys!' We shoved and we fell into a
clear open channel and our boat went a-skeeting down stream. We never
had to hit a lick, but she went so fast dat we was all skeer'd to take a
long breath. Finally Marster said, 'Boys, see dem willow trees down
yonder; well, steer her to run over dem so dat she will slack her
speed.' Us did, but it never deadened our speed a mite, dat us could
see. Marster shake his head and 'low, 'Bound fer hell, maybe, boys'.
"Got to Cherokee Falls, wid water so high couldn't tell no falls dar.
Marster say, 'Lay her to de right, we can't wreck dis boat widout
putting up a honest man's fight.' Den he say, 'If us does, us'll sho go
to hell.' We tried to swing her by grabbing to a big willow, and we
broke a lot of limbs in trying, but we did swing her and she run a 100
yards widout steering, and de boat landed on a little mountain of land.
Marse 'low, 'Ain't never seed sech a ocean of water since I was eighteen
years old, damn if I have.' He look at me and say, 'Don't know whether
Dick scared or not, but he sho is a brave man.' I was a-setting my feets
on land den, and I look at him and 'low, 'No sir, I ain't skeer't, why I
could come over dat little place in my bateau.' Truth is, dat I was so
skeer't dat I wasn't skeert. We lay over a day and a half. De water had
done receded back some, and we come 27 miles down to Lockhart Shoals in
dat one day. De water was still so high dat we run over de shoals widout
a tremor. Come sailing on down to Fish Dam and went over de Fish Dam and
never knowed dat it was dar. Den we landed at de road wid everybody safe
but still scar't.
"Dar was two Charlie Gilmores ... one was kil't right below Fish Dam. He
was hit in de head by a private. When de private was cutting de boat,
Charlie got in de way of de pole and it hit him in one of his temples
and he fell over in de water dead. When dey got him, wasn't narry drap
of water in his lungs, dat's how-come us knowed dat he was kil't
straight out. Some says dat he was hit in de y'er (ear), but anyway it
was on a tender spot and de lick sho done him up. Nothing wasn't done to
de private, kaise it was all accidental and Marse and everybody felt
sorry fer him.
"On river trips, we took rations sech as meat, bread and cabbage, and us
cotch all de fish dat we wanted and had coffee. We each took day in and
day out to cook, dat is, all dem dat could half-way cook did dat."